So this story is just going to be bromantic. If you squint really hard, you might see some Sterek, but that wasn't my intention :) I just love the bromance between them. Also, the pack is not the main focus, the bromance is. So don't expect much pack action. HAVE FUN!

CHAPTER 1

The pack was relaxing and enjoying their Sunday evening in the woods. The wolves had been play-fighting with one another for hours. When he wasn't playing on his cell phone, Stiles cheered on whichever wolf seemed to be winning at the moment. Derek was content watching his pack, and making mental notes on how to improve their fighting strategy.

Derek had suggested they go deep into the forest rather than staying on the outskirts, in an attempt to lay low and refrain from drawing attention to themselves.

They'd agreed, and spent a good half hour walking aimlessly, claiming to be searching for the perfect place to train, but actually joking, tripping, and playfully pushing each other around. They were bonding, and Derek was proud.

When they'd finally gotten tired of wandering, they chose a secluded part of the woods with little foliage so they'd have a clear battleground.

It was the fourth time Erica and Boyd were loudly and viciously battling, that the gunshots rang out in the woods, about a mile from where the pack was currently situated.

Erica was the one to silence her pack mates, with a low growl. "I think we've got ourselves a group of hunters." She practically snarled, looking to Derek for confirmation.

Derek's face tightened, but he curtly nodded, leaning his head a little bit more to the side, as if it would help him hear them better. Apparently, it did, for his next words jolted his betas out of their semi-relaxed state. "Judging by their scent and the amount of noise they're making, they aren't coming this way for a friendly chat. We've got to get moving; we've got less than ten minutes."

"How could they possibly know we'd be here?" Isaac questioned, looking confused.

Derek solemnly shook his head. "It's possible someone heard us fighting and tipped them off. Or we just got lucky and they randomly chose to head this way. It doesn't matter now either way; we've got to go."

Scott leaped up to Derek's side, eyebrows furrowing in concern. "Is it the Argents?"

Derek shook his head and Scott visibly relaxed. Allison was visiting her godmother in Florida this weekend, and Scott would hate to get into a confrontation with her family while she wasn't even in the state.

"No," Derek spoke quickly, "these hunters sound rowdy and untrained. I don't think they have a plan. And that makes them even more dangerous."

At this point, Boyd, Isaac, Erica, and Scott were on their feet, awaiting instructions from Derek. He opened his mouth to speak, when he realized Stiles was not in front of him.

He turned around to see Stiles relaxing on the floor, leaning up against a tree, tongue sticking out of his mouth while he concentrated completely on something that was on the screen of the cell phone in his hand.

"What are you doing?" Derek growled, eyes flaring red. Stiles didn't even look up when he waved Derek away with his hand, muttering something about "found my dad's old cell yesterday" and "have you heard of this game?...it's called Snake."

Derek closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened them again, the red was no longer there. He crossed the space between himself and Stiles in less than a second, snatched the phone from the teenager, and threw it to the ground.

"Hey-!" Stiles started to protest, but was cut short when Derek grabbed him by the scruff of his red hoodie, lifted him off of the ground, and dragged him across the field to stand next to Scott.

"As I was saying," Derek continued, looking pointedly at Stiles, "we need to move. We stay in pairs; no one is left alone. We need to watch out for each other. Since its getting dark out, we will have the advantage of being able to identify hiding places the hunters won't be able to see. I want to surround the hunters from all angles and find out what they're carrying and why they're here. If we split up, we can cover more ground and hopefully even throw them off of our trails. If you can evade the hunters without hurting them, do so. But if you think you're in any danger, protect yourself however you must. Whatever you do, stay with your buddy. And don't get trapped in one big group; if we stay away from each other, they won't be able to surround us."

Derek took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. "Erica, I want you to buddy up with Boyd. Scott, stay with Isaac. Stiles, you're with me."

The betas all nodded, while Stiles stood next to them looking horrified. "Why me?" he whined. Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the teen's dramatic reaction, but explained his reasoning anyway. "Boyd is strong; Erica is smart. They mesh well. Scott is fast; Isaac is stealthy. They make a good team. You are human; I am the alpha. If anyone's going to get you out of a deadly situation, it's going to be me."

Stiles looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "I see your point."

Another gunshot rang out from the woods, much closer this time.

"Time to move." Derek growled.

The three groups split up in all different directions, moving fast.

Well, two of the three were moving fast.

The third was moving at a slow but steady pace.

Stiles was running as quickly as he possibly could, but he could tell they weren't making much progress.

"I think I should find a place to hide." Stiles huffed out, head bowed to the floor, hands on his knees, and his heart pounding incredibly loudly in his chest.

Derek felt for the kid, but he needed to put some distance between them and the approaching hunters. "No, we haven't gotten far enough away yet, Stiles. They'll find us in an instant. I don't know what kind of weaponry they're carrying, and until we have the upper hand, I won't know how to keep everyone safe." Derek explained, surprising Stiles with his moment of honesty. "If we can wear them out and wait until dark...I'll be able to see the hunters without them seeing me. Or you. While it's still light out, we've got to keep moving."

Stiles groaned but obliged, straightening himself up. Derek gave the teen an appreciative nod, and turned to lead the way. Stiles had only walked a few steps when his toe caught a protruding branch and he was sent sprawling on the forest floor.

"AAH!" Stiles cried, chin slamming into the ground. Derek whirled around, eyes wide, looking for signs of danger he must have somehow missed. When he spotted Stiles on the floor nursing his chin, he chuckled, but leaned down to match the boy's height.

"You okay?" The Alpha asked, smirking, yet somehow managing to look sympathetic.

He stood up and reached out a hand to pull Stiles from the floor. Stiles took Derek's outstretched arm and righted himself, but it seemed like a millisecond later that everything happened simultaneously.

Stiles heard a branch snap. Both human and Alpha looked up. Derek roared louder than Stiles had ever heard before. Stiles felt himself being shoved sideways by the Alpha.

"GO, STILES, RUN! NOW!"

It was a miracle Stiles stayed upright. He sprinted the way Derek had pushed him, and it was mere seconds later when he heard at least a dozen gunshots ring out, and a pained grunt emitted from Derek.

Stiles stopped dead in his tracks and spun around, his wide eyes finding Derek's.

Derek roared at the stupid teenage boy. Why couldn't he ever listen to what he was told? Didn't he know that Derek only does what he does to keep him safe?

Apparently not, since Stiles was inching his way back into the line of fire.

"STILES, I'M FINE. THEY'RE REGULAR BULLETS. GET OUT OF HERE, NOW. I'm going to hold them off."

Stiles hesitated, seemingly having an internal struggle. In the end, he locked eyes with Derek, with a look that said "I'm sorry," and he ran in the opposite direction of the Alpha.

The rest of the pack heard the commotion, but could not help their leader, as they were having trouble of their own and had specific instructions to stay away.

Apparently there were more hunters than they had anticipated.

Whether they showed up to the party late, or the wolves hadn't interpreted the situation correctly, they couldn't be sure.

But they knew they were outnumbered, and if Derek wanted these hunters alive, the pack was going to have to lay low and find a place to hide.

They could only hope their Alpha knew what he was getting into.

Derek was healing, and fast. But not fast enough. He had been shot multiple times at a close range, he reminded himself.

But as soon as he heard a muttered "find the human" from one of the hunters' mouths, he was back on his feet, springing into action.

He took a step toward the group of hunters, but before he could get any closer, one of the younger men in their group whipped out a taser and shocked Derek back into submission.

The electrical voltage on the weapon was immense, and Derek was struggling to keep conscious.

The hunter holding the taser grinned at Derek. "Well, well, well, wolfman. Now that we know the kid means something to you, we've got to go find him. Thanks so much for that helpful information."

Derek couldn't believe it. His blind fear for Stiles' safety was going to be the same thing that got Stiles killed. He wanted to kick himself. He had to get out of this situation immediately and go help his human pack member.

But the moment he made a movement, he found himself lying flat on his back, having been shocked once again.

"BEN! EMILIO! Go find that kid!" Derek vaguely heard a gruff voice, belonging to the male holding the taser, shout to his fellow hunters.

Derek wouldn't allow it.

He wouldn't let them hurt Stiles on his watch.

If he could only just regain enough strength to fight off the hunter with the taser...

But all thoughts of this were diminished when the hunter shocked the already weakened werewolf fully into unconsciousness.

Stiles was so tired.

He felt like he'd been running all night, but he knew in actuality he couldn't have run more than a half a mile. A mile at most.

He slowed to a walk, looking at his surroundings, and gulped.

It was getting dark, and he was starting to worry.

Was Derek okay? Why hadn't he come to find Stiles yet?

Where was the rest of the pack? Were they okay wherever they were? He hoped they were hiding.

He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear someone approach him from the darkness of the trees.

"Well, look what we have here. You must be the boy who runs with wolves. And what an ironic fashion statement you seem to be making." Said an older, graying, man, pointing a shotgun right at Stiles' chest.

Stiles' eyes widened impossibly as he took a step back.

"I-no-look, I don't know what you want, but we don't want any trouble. So if you could just-"

Stiles was cut off when the older man started to chuckle.

"Don't bother pleading. You might be human, but you are protected by wolves. That makes you one of them. You're as good as dead." The hunter smiled evilly, pushing the shotgun hard into Stiles' chest, making the boy stumble a bit. Stiles knew he had to think fast. He was either going to be held hostage or killed.

And neither of those options sounded too terribly exciting to him at the moment.

Feigning a clumsy misstep due to the gun being pressed into him, Stiles purposely fell backward onto the ground, clutching at the forest floor.

He grabbed a fistful of dirt, and tried to bargain with the hunter once more, as a distraction.

"I'm serious dude, don't kill me. These werewolves are nothing if not loyal, and man, they would be so pissed if I died." Stiles shrugged his shoulders, standing up, hiding the fist full of dirt behind his back.

The hunter tilted his head back and let out a hearty laugh, but as soon as he looked down at the teen again, the man wielding the shotgun was temporarily blinded by Stiles' ingenious idea.

The hunter was coughing and choking and screaming about not being able to "SEE SHIT," so Stiles took the opportunity to run as far from the man with the gun as he could.

From behind him, he could hear, "BEN! GET THE FUCK OVER HERE! THE BRAT IS TRYING TO ESCAPE!"

Stiles took that as his cue to run faster.

Every few seconds he would peek behind him to see how much space he'd put between himself and the hunters. Stiles couldn't see them, but he could definitely hear them.

And if he could hear that, in hindsight, he should have been able to hear the loud ass river that just happened to be directly in front of him, thirty feet down. The water was moving fast, and at this time of the year, he could be certain it would be cold as hell.

Stiles was forced to stop at the edge of the cliff, unwilling to jump into that watery death trap, but unable to go back the way he came. When he heard the sound of footsteps slowing down right behind him, he closed his eyes, resigned, and turned around to face his assailants.

"HAH, we've got you now, boy. Did you really think you were gonna get away?" said a new hunter, one Stiles had not yet had contact with.

The one with the shotgun was right behind his friend. "You are gonna pay for what you pulled back there, you little shit." he growled, cocking the shotgun.

It went off.

Stiles felt a pain in his leg unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

He screamed.

It was an utterly heartbreaking scream, and it seemed to shake the entire forest.

It shook Derek to his core.

He could hear Stiles' pain, resonating in his head.

The boy was distraught, for what reason, Derek did not know.

But he knew he had to get to him, and fast.

With a strength he didn't know he possessed, he changed into his full Alpha form, tearing himself away from the electrical current that was previously incapacitating him.

And he ran.

He ignored the hunters' yells of protest, ignored the bullets lodging themselves in his body, and ignored that horrible little voice in his head saying "you'll be too late. you've lost Stiles."

He ran faster.

Stiles was breathing heavily, trying not to throw up. His face was too pale, and if any werewolves were around, they would probably be able to hear his heart beating out of his chest. There was so much blood spilling from the gunshot wound on his thigh that he was sure he would pass out at any second.

But he couldn't give these hunters that satisfaction.

Stiles struggled to his knees, feeling proud that he hadn't screamed in agony when the hole in his leg strained more under the pressure.

The hunters had a shocked look on their faces, seemingly stunned that this boy was still trying to stand up to them.

Stiles grimaced, but made sure to smirk as well. "You two are terrible werewolf hunters. You barely managed to catch a human, and it looks like you didn't even do that right, doesn't it?"

The look on the faces of the two men in front of Stiles were priceless.

The shotgun toting hunter had a look that was a mixture between fury and indignation, but in the end, it just turned into a snarl.

Stiles should have kept his mouth shut. It had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.

On more than a hundred occasions.

And this was one of those occasions.

Both of the hunters stepped menacingly closer to the teen.

Stiles managed to lean all of his weight on his good leg, and he stood up a little bit, holding his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. He looked backward, as he was almost at the edge of the cliff, and running out of space to get away from these guys.

"Woah, woah, okay, you guys are great hunters. The best I've ever seen. If you guys were in a werewolf hunting competition, you'd come in second. Third, at worst!"

They looked angrier, if possible. And that gun was aimed a little bit too close to his heart for him to feel comfortable.

Stiles gulped. "Shit."

He thought of all the options he had to get out of the situation he was in.

Maybe it was the pain clouding his mind, or maybe it was fear, but he could only think of two ways this could go. Stiles could:

1) Get shot by the hunters and definitely die.

2) Jump into the river and probably die.

If he went with option 1, he would be gone. He wouldn't have to worry about how people would react to his choice, since he wouldn't be around to deal with the aftermath.

If he took the second route and jumped off the cliff into a freezing river with a bleeding leg and survived, Derek would kill him.

Not literally, but you get the point.

Either way, Stiles was trapped.

Figuratively and literally.

In the end, it came down to who he was more scared of...the hunters in front of him with the loaded gun, or the sourwolf who threatened him at every turn, but saved his life just as many times.

Yeah, right.

As if there was actually any debate.

Stiles jumped.