OKAY SO, okay, I sat down to write this for the Sterek Valentine’s Meme – which is wayyy late, I know, I’m so sorry! – and it became this huge, 9400 word monster of a fic. But I started writing it and I. couldn’t. stop. It is now 1:25 AM and it is done, and I hope you like it, it probably got out of hand, but here it is! <33
Warning for mentions of violent situations/blood. I don’t go too detailed into most things, but there are still details of violence, so be warned of that going forward if you wish to read.
~*~
Derek Hale was sitting across from him, every inch of his face tight, controlled, unemotional. He was dressed in a finely pressed black tee, dark jeans, and black boots. Reyes, who had brought him from holding to the interrogation room, had tossed his black leather jacket haphazardly on the table between them, and Hale, being handcuffed behind his back, couldn’t touch it. Hale kept eyeing the jacket with narrowed eyes, as if annoyed that his precious jacket was touching such cheap, rusted metal.
Stiles continued to shuffle around some papers to look as if he was busy, as if he had important things to do but instead he was stuck here with Derek Hale, as if it was merely an annoyance. Hale didn’t look impressed.
Stiles sighed, closed the file, turned his chair slantways in order to lift his leg onto the table, as if he was bored with the proceedings. Hale eyed Stiles’ black converse in distaste.
“A New York detective wearing converse?” Hale finally spoke, eyebrow arched.
Stiles snorted. “There’s no dress code other than showing up to work with clothes on.”
It was Hale’s turn to snort as he rolled his eyes and looked toward the two-way mirror situated to his left, and Stiles’ right.
Stiles rested his finger tips on top of the case file, started to spin it around, around, around. Hale eyed the movement with distaste as well.
“So, here’s the thing, Hale,” Stiles said, causing Hale to look up from Stiles’ preoccupied hand and to his face. Stiles smirked slightly as Hale glared at him. “We’ve got enough to convict you. We don’t just have this one B&E on you. We’ve got too many petty thefts to count, DUI’s, three arrests for aggravated assault, several more B&E’s….” Stiles drifted off, head tilting this way and that as he lifted off Hale’s record. Hale just continued to stare blankly at him, looking bored. Stiles sighed, “And although we can’t prove it quite yet, at least two counts of murder in the first degree we’re suspicious of,” Stiles concluded, and that got Hale’s attention. He looked up at Stiles, eyes widening slightly, before Stiles saw his whole frame tense up, his lips purse, his eyes harden. Oh yeah, Derek was guilty, Stiles was positive of it. “That’ll give you two life sentences when we prove it if we have our way. A solid forty at the very least if we don’t get our way…you’re life will practically be over by the time you get out,” Stiles tsk tsk tsk’d, taking his leg down from the table and straightening, turning to face Hale directly, who hadn’t moved a centimeter since Stiles had brought up murder. “But…I’ve been tailing you for a long time now, Hale,” Stiles said, and watched the surprise flow through Hale’s eyes before he controlled himself. “And sometimes I don’t know whether you’re just trying to survive in your world or you really are a psychopathic bastard.”
Derek lowered his eyes to the table, the only movement he gave, and the only indication that he’d heard Stiles at all.
“So, this is how it’s going to be. We have enough on you right now to put you away for up to a year, probably a few months shy of that. In that time I’d be free to gather all the evidence I can get on those murders, and then I could put you away for life,” Stiles leaned forward, shoving the file aside as he laced his fingers together on the table, getting as close as he could to Hale, who hadn’t looked up from the table. “Or…” Stiles started, tilting his head to the side, eyeing Hale, who slowly raised his eyes from the table to meet Stiles’. Stiles ignored the way he heart sped up slightly.
“Or,” Stiles started again, clearing his throat. “We can make a deal.”
<3 protect you
Published
shealwaysreads 