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Derek looked through bleary eyes, his heart stuttering painfully in his chest. Stiles stood by Kate, just like she said he would. He didn’t look hurt, and he didn’t look like his husband. His face was totally blank, eyes assessing and cold.
“As I said,” Kate sounded smug, “Not a hair out of place.”
“Are those burn marks?” Stiles— no. This was the Nogitsune— asked, interestedly.
Kate shrugged, “We had to know how much he knew.”
“And how much is that?” The Nogitsune looked at her.
“Not a lot,” Kate eyed Derek, a smile slowly growing, “But we figured you’d like a turn.”
“You’re so kind.”
“We try,” Kate replied modestly, “And you won’t mind if I stay? Watch the professional do his work?”
The Nogitsune studied her then before nodding, “I don’t see why not.”
“Thank you,” Kate raked her eyes over the assassins body and Derek couldn’t help doing the same. Stiles— Stiles looked so calm. Laid back. Assessing the room, the tools on the small table, Derek himself. Derek felt like he was going to throw up.
“Do you have any medical files on him?” Stiles asked.
“No,” Kate gave him a weird look, “I figured as his husband you wouldn’t need them.”
Stiles’ smile turned dangerous, “I never go in blind, Kate. Even with people I know… intimately.”
Derek couldn't look any more, hanging his head as low as possible, trying to block everything out.
There was a moment of silence, then slowly, “Okay… I’ll go hunt them down.”
Stiles didn’t answer as she left. Derek refused to look up, but listened intently as Stiles moved forward. He turned his head away when Stiles was right next to him, breathing hard through his nose, trying to dissociate from the coming pain.
“Stay calm,” Stiles said quietly, picking up a scalpel and weighing it in his palm, “I’m getting you out of here.”
Derek couldn't help his head snapping up. Stiles considered the scalpel a moment more, before glancing at Derek and there. There was his husband. His hands weren’t shaking like they usually did when he was mad, but there was ice in his eyes. Cold rage Derek had never before witnessed, and something broken, something that hurt Derek’s heart to see, even if this man was no longer his husband. But there was also determination, and cool confidence.
Kate was back, slowly closing the door behind her and looking between Stiles and Derek, “Getting comfortable?”
“Yeah,” Stiles’ face morphed in front of him, eyes becoming calculating, “Just trying to figure out where to start. He has such a beautiful face, you know?”
“Oh I’m well aware,” Kate smirked, handing over the file. Stiles flicked the scalpel still in his hand between his fingers and took the papers, flipping through them easily, pausing every once in a while to read a passage before continuing. Kate waited, becoming more impatient.
“What exactly are you looking for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light even as it dipped toward deadly.
“It’s an old trick, you see,” Stiles moved close to her to show her what he was looking at, “You go under the rib, here… if you get the right trajectory you can puncture the lung. Very painful, definitely not a good time. Example.”
Stiles dropped the file, driving the scalpel into Kate’s side and twisting it up. She screamed into Stiles’ palm as he shoved her back against the wall, keeping the scalpel steadily between her ribs.
“See, after you deflate the lung,” he continued calmly, “You have many options, but not much time. You can continue to carve into their lung, like so,” he twisted his hand, making her scream again, “You can cut into their trachea,” he deftly pulled out the scalpel and sliced into the base of her throat then paused, “Or, you can end their suffering quickly,” then he plunged the small knife into her jugular, letting her drop to the floor with a dull thud.
Derek was horrified, he stared from the crumpled body to Stiles. He turned and Derek couldn’t stop his flinch. He was crying through the blood on his face, but Stiles didn’t make a move to come closer. For one heart stopping second, Derek thought he was going to be next. Then it was like a damn broke; the fog cleared from Stiles’ eyes and he jumped into action, dropping down to search Kate’s corpse for something to unlock Derek. He came up with a ring of keys and stumbled over, refusing to make eye contact even as he gingerly helped Derek lower his arms.
“Can you walk?” he asked, and the man before him sounded so much like his husband he couldn’t stand it. He pulled away, slumping against the wall to try to keep his balance.
“Get the fuck away from me!” he growled, his voice hoarse and raw, “Please, just—“
“I know,” Stiles held his hands out to show no danger still not making eye contact, “I know you never want me near you again, I understand. But I need to get you out of here first, okay? Let me get you out and you’ll never see or hear from me again. You can change your name, you can leave the country, whatever. I promise I will never find you.”
You’ll never look for me, Derek thought, wave after wave of emotion crashing through his chest. Stiles looked up, over his shoulder, then turned back, “We need to go, Derek.”
“Don’t say my name,” Derek took his hand. Something in Stiles’ face closed, but he nodded, throwing Derek’s arm over his shoulder and leading him out of the room. Two guards were on the ground outside, the rest of the hallway was empty.
“How did you…?” Derek started to ask.
“What, you think I came in without backup?”
“The Nogitsune never uses backup,” Derek grunted as they made their way down the hall.
“Yeah, well,” Stiles peered around the corner, “I’m a little out of practice. Besides I promised an old friend she could tag along.”
“She?” Derek asked, startled.
“Two she’s,” Stiles replied, pulling them the rest of the way to the exit, “This is where I leave you.”
“What?” Derek tried not to sound panicked, “Where are you going?”
“Away,” Stiles said, checking around one last corner, “For now. I’ll come back.”
“I’ll arrest you if you do,” Derek said, not sure if it was a threat or a warning.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Stiles met his eyes, fierce heat and love radiating like sunlight, “I need you to listen carefully: you’re in Mexico—“
“What?”
“—around this corner is the exit. You walk out of here and you keep walking straight for as long as you can. When you can’t walk anymore, you press this button and help will come, is that clear?”
Stiles pressed what felt like a modified garage door opener in Derek’s hand but he ignored it, “Where are you going?”
“Repeat it back to me.”
“Walk out the door, keep walking, when I’m tired press the button. Where are you going?”
“Some not so great people know I’m head over heals for this FBI agent,” Stiles said, trying to pull on a charming smile, “I just want to make sure they know he’s off limits.”
“Hey,” Derek grabbed Stiles collar, for the first time noticing the blood on his face. Kate’s blood, “Don’t come back. Please don’t come back. I can’t lose you again.”
Stiles face morphed too quickly for Derek to catch what he was thinking, but he placed both hands on either side of Derek's head and said firmly, “I love you. I love you with all my heart, with everything I have. I’m sorry I lied to you about so many things, but I swear to God I didn’t lie about this. I love you, Derek Hale. You are the best thing that ever happened to me and I will keep you safe as long as I can.”
Stiles leaned forward, pressing dry lips to Derek’s bruised forehead before bolting up and away. Derek watched him go, wanting to call him back. Instead he turned the corner, shuffling toward the heat and light, stumbling into the aired desert. He looked around, looked back at the decrepit building he’d come from, looked at the sun, just breaking the horizon.
And started walking.