the wolves all cry

There's been an itch just under Derek's skin all day, but he's been too busy to really place it. The restaurant is opening soon, incredibly soon, and he chalks it up to nerves. It's late by the time he leaves the restaurant and he lopes through the woods, eager to be home. There's a quiet, welcome cabin waiting for him. Not to mention the man inside of it.

When Derek walks through the door, he's greeted by a very welcoming sight indeed. Barry is lounging on the soft rug in front of fire in nothing but his underwear. He's on his stomach, arms crossed over a book that he's dozing on. His skin is practically golden in the flickering light, and Derek's blood burns under his skin.

Maybe this is what he had been itching for all day.

Derek toes out of his boots and hangs up his leather jacket before padding quietly across the floor, careful not to wake Barry up as he sinks to his knees at his side. A hand curls around the back of Barry's thigh and Derek leans over to press a soft, open mouthed kiss between his shoulder blades. Barry's skin is warm from the fire and Derek grins, dragging wet kisses up to the back of Barry's neck.

"Sleepy hummingbird," Derek breathes out, somewhere between a whisper and a growl.

This can't be happening again. It was so stupid to think that Barry would be safe with Derek, that old patterns wouldn't repeat themselves. How could he have been so foolish as to think that he could open his heart up to someone like that again, and they wouldn't get hurt?

He rushes through a darkened alley, eyes red and fangs extended, and remembers what it was like to fight that copy of himself in that other Darrow. Your love is a curse, Derek.

The scent of Barry's blood stings his nostrils, and Derek thinks about finding it smeared across brick. All he found was that and Barry's scent, thick with anxiety and pain. Fear. Derek followed the trail until it ended, vanished into thin air.

It's horrible, so horrible to think, but at least the blood told him that Barry is most likely still here somewhere in the city. He may be somewhere that Derek can still reach him. Maybe he can fix this.

He needs Luke, and he needs Oliver. He needs anyone who could help, but first on his list is someone with a nose nearly as good as his. He's on his way to Luke's when he runs right past Reid, who smells like anger and grief, and Derek skids to a stop. Whirling around to face him, fangs and claws extended with eyes glowing red in the darkness, Derek feels his heart drop into his stomach. Reid looks awful, like he just lost his whole world.

"Reid," he rasps out around his fangs. "I was just going to get-- is Luke gone too?"