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Title: Underneath
Author: Groffiction
Rating: NC17 for the whole fic, though some chaps might be PG13 or R in rating
Pairing(s): Derek Hale / Stiles Stilinski, and many others….
Summary: AU, where Stiles gets bitten by a Cyger – a type of rare Weretiger around the same time Scott gets bitten by Peter. Confused and more than a bit freaked out, they both are naturally suspicious when Derek shows up out of the blue. Still, there is something about the moody, aloof werewolf that both intrigues and draws Stiles to Derek like a moth to a flame. But, everyone knows that if you get close enough to touch flames, you get burned. However, with the promise of love, is that burning sacrifice worth it? And how does a Weretiger and a Werewolf even work as mates? Very loose canon through season 1 and season 2 of Teen Wolf. Might have some things from Season 3, depending on where the story leads.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone, though I totally wished I could have Sterek. Period. I am broke, so please do not sue! All you will get is two hungry senile elderly cats and some hairballs.
Warnings/Notes: This is SLASH NC-17, meaning eventual sex between two males, rimming, blowjobs, frotting, scenting, claiming, bonding, kinkiness, lots of unresolved sexual tension, handjobs, marking, biting, nuzzling, pack feels, mates theme, bloodplay, vampirism, bondage, D/S themes, light BDSM. There is also gore, violence, attempted rape, torture, electrocution, arson, murder, and mayhem, some sterek underage sexual content but no intercourse until Stiles reaches 17. BAMF!Stiles, Weretiger!Stiles, Beta!Stiles, Werewolf!Derek, Beta!Derek, Alpha!Derek, BAMF!Derek. *When I say loose canon for season 1 and season 2, it means I pick and choose what I want to be in my story and twist it around a bunch. Also, VERY long story, therefore the timeline moves a bit slower, and I am a plot obsessive author. So, sorry about that. Derek is also a bit out of character. Don’t worry – he will slam Stiles into walls like normal, it’s just I have him thinking things through more, and he actually uses his words. Stiles is also a bit out of character, but I tried to make him as snarky as possible.*

Totally inspired by Adam Lambert’s song, Underneath. Hence the title. The lyrics can be taken either of Derek or of Stiles. I think it suits them both.

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Stiles Stilinski winced as he tried hard not to panic. This fucking sucked. He looked down at his hip, where his side was burning with a fire that he’d never felt before. It hurt to even breathe, much less assess what the hell had just happened to him. He bit his lip as he took note of how his shirt was practically ripped to shreds, and the whole blood thing wasn’t helping either. There was a huge wound on his right side, near his hip, and it was deep.

True, Stiles had had several broken bones, bumps, and bruises in his past, but nothing compared to how bad this one felt. It felt as if his whole side was just a mass of fiery pain. It was practically throbbing with pain. He tried to calm himself down, taking in that it was still nighttime, and that whatever-it-was that bit him was still out there. Stiles knew he needed to get out of there. And fast. He didn’t have to have a sixth sense to know that he was basically chopped liver for any predator out there, even if whatever-it-was that bit him decided he wasn’t all that tasty a dinner.

As he fought to stand, nearly crying out at the sharp pains lacerating his side, Stiles wracked his brain at the thought of what might have bitten him. All he could remember was lying to his dad about his best friend Scott McCall being out there in the forest with him, then heading back towards his jeep after his dad left him to go back to the “crime scene”, and then being attacked from behind. The creature hadn’t even given him time to get freaked out; the thing just tore into his side, ramming Stiles into the ground and roaring before bounding off into the darkness, leaving the boy bleeding, but so glad to be alive it wasn’t even funny.

Stiles could almost hear his dad saying in a resigned tone, ‘that’s what you get for sneaking off into the woods with your best friend just because you can’t leave well enough alone about crime scenes.’ Fuck his own morbid curiosity. The boy panted shallowly as he finally righted himself against a tree. Feeling a bit sorry for himself, he couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t his fault that he was naturally curious about this particular murder. Yea, Beacon Hills had murders, but what made this one different was the fact that they only found HALF off a body. As in, whoever – or whatever did this, must have been one very disturbed and psycho individual – human or not.

And he’d had to let his curiosity run ramped, even getting Scott involved. Speaking of his best friend, where did he go? Stiles looked around, again trying hard not to panic; well trying not to panic more than he already was. He hoped that whatever-it-was that bit him hadn’t gone after Scott. Biting his lip, Stiles tensed as he heard a growling howl off in the distance and then silence. After a few breathless minutes of waiting for something to attack him, when nothing did, Stiles fumbled with his pocket for his cell phone.

Hopefully the thing still worked, because he had to admit that whatever-it-was that bit him had thrown him down on the ground pretty hard, giving the phrase ‘feeling like a sack of potatoes’ a whole new meaning to Stiles. As Stiles brushed down the screen of his cell phone, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Shivering, the boy looked around, wondering if he was in some bizarre dream due to watching way too many horror films in one night. The pain in his side suggested otherwise, and if he didn’t get out of there soon, he knew things were going to go from terrible to fucking worse. A sudden awful terror driven feeling settled like a hard block of ice in his stomach.

So, Stiles started running. He had no idea why he felt the need to run, since it probably wasn’t going to keep him from being eaten, but he went with instinct. The instinct to survive was so apparent in his body, that Stiles ran as fast as he could, ignoring the screaming shoots of agony in his side. Stiles managed to get to his jeep and inside without incident. He then spastically locked the doors and curled in on himself, fearfully bracing himself for an attack, eyes clenched shut. When several minutes had passed and nothing had happened, Stiles opened his eyes and put his arms down, not even realizing that he had pulled them up to protect his face.

Taking a few minutes to calm himself down, Stiles unlocked his phone again and noted he had a few texts from Scott. And they were pretty recent. The sense of relief that flooded Stiles was short lived as he read the texts.

10:20 pm: Dude, thx for not giving me up to ur dad.

10:22 pm: I will see you tomrw?

10:45 pm: …Stiles… I thnk somthin bit me!

10:46 pm: OMG, somthin DID bite me!

10:48 pm: I am NOT kidding. Lookie:

Stiles looked at the picture, feeling a whole new sense of dread. He looked at the time as he started his car with trembling hands, noting that it was now 11:30. Trying to figure out if Scott had been attacked by the same creature that he had, Stiles looked around, taking more calming deep breaths. In, out. In, out. He was not going to get a fucking panic attack just because he and his best friend had been attacked.

He nearly shot out of his seat when his phone rang. Stiles answered it, trying to sound NOT worried, and failing miserably, “Are you ok? Where are you dude?”

“Hey calm down, I am actually ok. The bite stings like a bitch but other than that I am ok. I am heading on the road to the clinic. It’s closer than my house is to the woods, so I figured might as well get some bandages and stuff from there.” Scott said with a laugh.

“Dude that is so not funny.” Stiles said, nearly punching his steering wheel to get his point across, even though he knew that Scott wouldn’t be able to see what he was doing. He didn’t know why, but he was suddenly angry as hell. “You could have gotten killed! And I am heading to the clinic too, so I will meet you there in a few.”

“What for? It’s just a bite. I mean, I nearly crapped my pants when the thing attacked me, but it let me live, so it’s cool! No need for you to come meet me or anything.” Scott said, amusement in his voice.

“Damnit, this is not cool Scott!” Stiles cursed vehemently, shivering as his side twinged with pain. Thank god the wound wasn’t hurting as much, but still. “I am meeting you at the clinic. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

“Jeez, chill out, man. I will see you there.” There was annoyance in Scott’s tone, but then he asked, “Wait, are you ok?”

Stiles was silent for a moment before he gritted out, “Why do you think I didn’t call you when you texted me earlier about the bite?”

Scott breathed a sigh and guessed, “Because you were being chewed out by your dad?”

“No, you freakin’ loser. I didn’t call you because I got attacked as well, and I am fucking bleeding and shit all over my front seat!” Stiles said, finally pulling his jeep to the road and driving in the direction of the animal clinic, where Scott worked at part time. “So, yea, maybe I am being all pissy, but this is literally freaking me out.”

“Wait, you got bit too?!” Scott squeaked, and Stiles would have thought this was all a big joke to laugh at if it wasn’t for the fact that his side was still bleeding and aching.

“Oh my god, YES! Scott, yes I got fucking bit!” Stiles snapped before he hung up on his friend so he could concentrate on driving.

Once Stiles got to the clinic, he noted that Scott was already there, putting some alcohol on his own wound. The boy looked up as Stiles came in and quickly hopped off of the surgical counter to get a good look at his friend. Stiles looked, well, he looked worse than he did, and Scott knew that the other boy was holding onto reality by a thread, if not even less than that. Scott quickly helped Stiles get cleaned up, and the other boy mumbled, “I am still mad at you.”

“Why are you mad at me?” Scott asked in confusion, putting some rubbing alcohol on Stile’s wound. “Jeez, Stiles, this looks worse than mine, and I thought I’d gotten a huge one.”

“Guess you were lucky then. Besides, it could have been two animals.” Stiles said and winced as Scott accidentally prodded too hard at his side. “As for being mad at you, that’s sort of a given. You run off, get friggin’ bit too, and you were LAUGHING it off, as if it was some sort of sick joke.”

Scott winced at that, before shrugging, “Well, I didn’t want to worry you. Plus, I thought you were still with your dad, and didn’t get bit either. It seemed plausible that you were safe, so I just laughed it off. I mean, you gotta admit that the irony of both of us getting bit by some weird wild animal is too funny.”

Stiles regarded his friend for a moment before snorting, not being able to stay mad at him for long. After both boys bandaged themselves up, Stiles looked at the time and cursed. “I am so going to be in deep shit if I don’t get home soon. Do you want me to drop you off?”

“Sure, but there’s something else I need to tell you first.” Scott said, this time looking a bit green and grossed out.

“Uh oh, do I need to get my big boy pants on? Because, you literally look like you are about to hurl. And I really do not want to clean that up.” Stiles teased before growing serious. “Ok, what do you need to tell me? I may have just taken a huge beating by a Werewolf, but I can handle it.”

“Werewolf? Seriously?” Scott smirked in amusement at Stiles.

“Well I mean, come on, I heard a wolf howling, and I don’t know about you but I’ve read somewhere that there hasn’t been any wolves in California for like 60 years.” Stiles defended himself, though now he was grinning.

Scott tensed a bit and mumbled, “Well, now that you mention it, I heard howling too. I thought it might have been a wolf, but I kind of just shrugged it off, you know?” At Stiles’ look he sighed and muttered, “Whatever.”

They cleaned up the area, Scott locked up and both boys were in Stiles’ jeep in minutes. They were almost all the way to Scott’s house, when Stiles asked him, “So, what was the big confession you were about to tell me before both of us got distracted on the subject of Werewolves?”

Scott shrugged, slowly smiling smugly, “I found the other half of the body.”

Stiles nearly swerved off the road at that and the act had both of them cursing softly. “Dude, chill out.”

“You are seriously telling me this?” Stiles waved his hand spastically as he explained, “I almost get killed, you almost get killed, by some weird unknown animal, which might or might not be the same thing that killed that poor girl, and you are telling me to chill out? Are you freakin’ nuts?!”

“Ok, ok, ok, sheez.” Scott had the grace to look sheepish before he finally tried to lift the mood, “At least we survived, right?”

“Yea, but something tells me there’s more to it than that. I mean, it seems like whatever it was that was out there, bit us, but then just let us go. It just seems weird to me, ok? Call me paranoid, but yea.” Stiles sighed deeply as he dropped his friend off.

After Scott shut the door, Stiles waved at him goodbye and headed home. Maybe things would look clearer when he got some sleep.

If he got some sleep….

Chapter One: Derek

Stiles rolled over and slapped aimlessly at his alarm clock. The thing was ancient, and he totally knew he could use his cell phone for an alarm, but the clock was sort of nostalgic. And Stiles liked keeping things that reminded him of his mother, who had passed away two years before. Though the piece of crap clock wasn’t really significant to him, Stiles still couldn’t seem to part with it. His mom had given it to him a long time ago when he first started grade school. It had put up with a bunch of beatings from both Stiles and Scott, whenever the other boy crashed there, but it still friggin’ worked, which was totally shocking, in of itself.

Still, Mondays always sucked. Today sucked big time already, even if it hadn’t been a Monday, because it was the start of a new school year. True, Stiles usually liked school. He liked learning, reading, and spending time on the Lacrosse team, even though he usually was pretty good at warming the bench. But, what Stiles really hated about today was the fact that he was tired. And not just the normal teenage-I-stayed-up-all-night tired. No, this was gut-wrenching, bone-dissolving tired. Managing only to get a few hours of sleep without nightmares plaguing him also didn’t help. So, Stiles finally turned off his alarm clock and nearly fell out of bed still trying to wake up. Ugh, why did the sunlight of this particular morning seem way too bright?

He squinted his eyes and finally untangled himself from his bed sheets, absently scratching his stomach as he tried to figure out what to wear. Stiles finally settled on a pair of blue jeans, a green Jawsome t-shirt, and a black hoodie. Matching socks and sneakers, and some plain white boxers topped it all off. He grabbed everything in a large pile and headed blindly for the bathroom. The boy didn’t pay much attention to the fact if his dad was home or not, not really caring since the Sherriff more often than not stayed overnight at the office.

Once washed and dressed, Stiles felt a bit more awake as he padded down the stairs to the kitchen, pausing to pull a box of Cheerios out of the pantry in his wake. He was almost completely through his bowl of cereal when he suddenly shot up and reached for the bandage at his side. It was damp, and he cringed at the thought that he’d been so out of it he hadn’t even remembered to take it off while bathing. Still, he carefully pulled the bandage off and nearly dropped it at the sight of bare, but healed skin. The wound was gone. In its place, there was a ring of small scars, but otherwise completely scab-less bite marks.

What the fuck? Stiles thought as he rubbed his fingers over the area, biting his lip at the feel that it was still tender. Throwing the bandage in the garbage bin, Stiles sat back down with a small thud, noting that his dad was there for once, only sprawled out on the couch in the living room, dead to the world and snoring louder than a bear with allergies.

Feeling sort of apprehensive, Stiles checked his phone. Scott had sent him two messages, making him both snicker, and feel relieved that he wasn’t the only one who had freaky healing powers.

6:30 am : Mrn-ing, sunshine. I feel mre rsted.

6:37 am : WTF?! My bite is gone!

Stiles quickly texted back: Mine 2, before he cleaned up the dishes, grabbed his backpack and headed out the door, passing his snoring dad as he went by. He put his stuff in his jeep and tensed. Something or someone was watching him. Stiles played it cool, and nonchalantly looked around, absently rubbing the soft fuzz on the nape of his neck. Seeing nothing but trees, houses, and the clear road ahead of him, Stiles shrugged and got into his jeep. Great, now he was paranoid.

Getting to school was a mundane chore, even though he’d gotten there earlier than most kids would even want to. He couldn’t help but want to please his dad this year, knowing that even though he got pretty good grades, he was still spastic and had the attention span of a gnat, so last year hadn’t been that great. Maybe this year he’d learn to actually focus and make something of himself. It was a futile effort to make himself feel special, but at least he tried.

Goals were good to have.

He knew that, even if he believed it for a totally different reason than what Finstock believed. The Coach of the Lacrosse team was weird, but in a strange way he cracked Stiles up, though he’d never tell Finstock that, even under the pain of most certain death.

Getting out of his jeep, and locking it up, the brown eyed boy again felt the nagging sensation that someone or something was watching him. Tensing slightly, he looked around and finally made a frustrated sound. Either his paranoid-ness was getting ridiculously out of hand due to what happened last night, or there was actually someone or something out there watching him. Feeling a bit apprehensive and creeped out, Stiles adjusted his backpack, snatched up his Lacrosse stick and headed over to Scott, who was waiting for him near the front of the school waving like a lunatic.

Once he reached Scott, they both smirked and showed off their healed skin, because it was freakin’ amazing that both were not maimed or hurt anymore. Stiles nearly flipped out when he spotted Lydia move right past him, and he sighed. “She’s ignoring me again.”

Scott gave him a sympathetic look before he smiled, “Hey, who knows, she might be in more of your classes this year? Let me see your schedule so we can see which classes we are sharing.”

Stiles snickered and rolled his eyes, “Dude, I showed it to you a few days ago when we both went for registration. We have Chemistry, Econ, History, English, and Algebra together. Plus Lacrosse.”

Scott scrunched up his face a bit in concentration before he grinned at his buddy, “Ok, I so don’t remember that, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” He patted Stiles on the shoulder as they walked into the big doors of the school. “This year is going to be spectacular. I can feel it.”


The first day of school was a pain in the ass to go through, and Stiles secretly thought their Chemistry teacher Harris was just a plain evil incarnate for giving them all homework. Seriously? Who even does that on the first day of school? Stiles was about ready to bang his head into his locker door by the time lunch rolled around. He spotted Scott coming towards him looking like someone had given him a bunch of happy pills. “How can you be so bright and cheery when it’s only LUNCH?” Stiles asked grumpily as he put some more books away into his locker.

Scott just beamed, “I gave a hot girl a pen.”

Stiles arched a brow, “Ok, so that’s a good thing?”

“She smiled at me. Her name is Allison and she is a new girl. But, that’s like not the best part.” Scott said with an even bigger grin. “I heard her talking to her mom outside the school on her cell phone while I was in CLASS getting ready to be bored out of my mind in Spanish.”

Stiles still didn’t get it for a moment until it finally dawned on him. “Oh my god, you have like super hearing powers?”

“I know, isn’t it great?” Scott suddenly reminded Stiles of a little puppy who had just received a toy for being good. “What about you?”

“Nope, no super –“ Suddenly Stiles cut off as he heard his name being murmured.

Looking around, Stiles noted that no one was staring at them or giving them weird eyes, but he couldn’t help feeling like someone HAD said his name. “That was weird.”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, getting a puzzled look on his face as he leaned up against the lockers.

“Just a few seconds ago I thought I heard, no I KNOW I heard someone saying my name. But, I couldn’t tell who it was.” Stiles then shivered, “And it was you know, my real name, not ‘Stiles’, which how anyone would be able to pronounce it, I have no idea.”

“Well, it could have been Miss Morrell, the new Guidance Counselor. I heard she has a degree in Latin or something, so she might be really good with languages?” Scott nodded in the other direction behind Stiles.

Stiles turned and spotted the Counselor across the hall, talking to a few other teachers and he shook his head. “No, I could have sworn over my dead body that whoever it was who said my name was a guy.” Then he chewed on his lip before shrugging and following Scott to the lunch room, deciding to puzzle over the mystery guy later.

As both boys sat down at their own abandoned table, most peeps avoiding them like the plague, Stiles changed the subject, “Ok, so after practice, you want to go try and find your inhaler?”

“That might be a good idea, since those things cost my mom eighty bucks every time she has to replace one. I don’t want to piss her off this early in the school year.” Scott agreed, pausing to munch on a peanut butter sandwich. “Plus I’d have to tell her how I managed to lose it running for my life in the woods.”

Stiles nodded, taking a sip out of a small water bottle. “Gotcha. A pissed off Mama McCall is a scary one.”

“Uh huh.” Scott then changed the subject to Lacrosse, about hoping to make first line this year.

Stiles tuned him out for the rest of lunch, but only because he’d heard the other boy moon about making first line for the past summer, so he really didn’t feel bad about not paying much attention to the conversation. He had to admit though, when Scott wanted something, he usually got it. Stiles almost felt envious for that sort of drive. He’d never been that driven for something before, even before his mother had passed away. Stiles was more of an ‘ignore the problem until it goes away’ sort of boy, but h figured that he’d eventually grow out of it.

He knew that it was pretty pathetic, pining over Lydia Martin since the third grade, especially since he knew for a fact that the beautiful strawberry blonde would never even spare him a second glance. But, he couldn’t help it. So, maybe he was driven; aka: driven to being a masochist, but it was irrelevant. Stiles was content to watch Lydia from afar. At least for now.

Unfortunately there wasn’t much else out of the ordinary for the rest of their classes for the day, so practice should at least give the boys some much needed interest before they both fell asleep from boredom. Scott got pushed around roughly in practice, while Stiles got to warm the bench for today. Stiles sighed, feeling more bummed out than usual about the thought of not getting a chance to practice. Apparently the coach thought Scott would do better against Jackson or any of the rest of the team. Turns out he might have been right.

Stiles gaped in shock as his buddy started catching the ball, not letting anyone take an actual goal in the net behind him. Woa, now this was interesting. Stiles watched as Scott continued to flourish, and eventually Finstock had Scott run the ball for a change. Scott then practically did a few flips and weaved in and around the players, making the sport seem really easy, before slamming the ball into the goal, grinning big. Stiles let out a celebratory whoop before his eyes flickered to something dark on the other side of the field.

Stiles’ eyes widened as he caught sight of a very attractive, but moody looking young man, who looked to be in his early to mid-twenties. Something twinged in the back of Stiles’ mind, as if telling him that he should know this guy. The guy caught his eye and held it for quite a while. It could have been minutes or hours, Stiles couldn’t tell the difference. All that he knew was that this guy had the hottest hazel eyes he’d ever seen on anyone, boy or girl. Feeling his gut clench in a weird way, Stiles got distracted by Scott, who was waving at him. Stiles waived back with a goofy smile before turning to look at the guy again. Unfortunately the black haired hot guy was long gone by then, and Stiles didn’t know why, but he felt both dismayed and relieved.

That dude had had an intense stare, almost like the knowing gaze could burn into his soul just with one look. Feeling a bit creeped out by everything, Stiles got off of the bench to go congratulate his buddy for making first line. And though he was happy for Scott, and supported him one hundred percent, Stiles couldn’t help but draw his thoughts back to the mysterious hazel eyed man who had watched practice for a bit.

It wasn’t until both Stiles and Scott were in the woods looking for the other boy’s inhaler, when the resemblance of the hot guy triggered a memory - a memory of a fire engulfing a house, and a sullen teenaged boy clinging to his older sister. Hale. That was his name. Derek Hale. Now that Stiles had a name to go with the face, he felt a bit calmer, though he couldn’t understand why. Instead of messing with these strange feelings and emotions, Stiles turned his attention to Scott, who was crouching down looking around an undisturbed pile of leaves on the forest floor.

“Dude, I swear I left it around here somewhere. And the other half of the girl’s body was like right there.” Scott pointed a few feet in front of him. “God, I can still smell it.”

“Not the only one. That stinks.” Stiles commented, scrunching up his face in disgust. Ugh, it smelled like blood and rot, and he didn’t like it.

Scott looked up at him, brown eyes wide with shock before he grinned, “Stiles, you have like the same strange things going on with you too! I mean, I can see, hear, and smell things I shouldn’t be able to see, hear, and smell. Sounds like you have it too!”

Stiles rolled his eyes and grinned, in spite of himself, “Yea, but I am still trying to totally figure out if we got bitten by Werewolves last night, or if it was just some sort of wild animal, who probably took the other half of the body to its lair or something.”

Scott snorted at that before he shrugged, “Well I don’t know about any animal being a Werewolf, but it could have been a real wolf. I know you said that wolves haven’t been sighted in like 60 years, but maybe a few stray ones got loose from the local zoo or something?”

That was a plausible explanation, but Stiles’ attention snapped to someone who just appeared not even a hundred feet in front of them. He reached down and yanked on Scott’s grey hoodie, motioning to the figure standing with a determined scowl on his face. Derek did not look happy. Nope, not one bit. Then again, they were probably trespassing. Or were they? This was government seized land now, wasn’t it?

Stiles tensed slightly as the man started towards them, and he couldn’t help but size him up. Derek was wearing black jeans, black boots, a grey t-shirt, and a black leather jacket – the same apparel as earlier during practice. But, now that he was a bit closer, Stiles could really take in Derek’s appearance. His black hair was spiked slightly, and his skin was pale, but a good pale. There was a slight hint of five o’clock shadow on his face, but it just added to the hotness and dangerous look he was permeating. Yep, Derek was one scary looking dude, though Stiles had to admit the guy had taste.

“What are you doing here?” Derek demanded with a soft, but determined tone, “This is private property.”

He came to stand not even ten feet away from Scott and Stiles, and all Stiles could think of was the smell. And before he could stop himself, he was sniffing the air, taking in the older man’s scent. He didn’t know why it smelled so fucking good, but it did. It made his mouth water just from taking one breath. Derek smelled like a cross between fall leaves, damp mist, worn leather, and something else that was all unique to the man himself. Before Stiles realized what he was doing, he’d stepped closer to Derek.

Derek’s unwavering gaze caught his own, and Stiles flushed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable lust rising in his veins. Shivering slightly, and trying not to totally have a sudden freak out moment, Stiles broke the tense stare. Why was he getting turned on by Derek? True, Stiles had always been curious about both sexes, but still! He hadn’t even met the guy before today and Stiles was already contemplating tackling Derek and rutting up against him like some horny fuck-crazed animal! Feeling more than a bit confused by how his body was reacting to Derek’s scent and presence, Stiles turned his attention to Scott, who was trying to look as harmless as possible.

“Sorry about that. We were just looking for something.” Scott said, before instinctively sniffing the air. His eyes became puzzled as he tried to figure out why Derek smelled sort of familiar.

Derek narrowed his eyes at both of them as if contemplating either squashing them both under his feet like bugs, or eating them. Stiles didn’t know which mental image made him more squeamish. Though Stiles wasn’t looking at Derek anymore, actually trying hard NOT to, the boy was acutely aware of the man’s gaze. It was intense, as if Derek was trying to see into both boys’ souls. True, Stiles had a vivid imagination, and he’d been playing on his online roleplaying games way too much, but he couldn’t help but think that Derek had a connection to both Scott and him. Still, Stiles was never one to cower in the face of danger. And Derek was dangerous. Totally. Dude, even the guy’s looks alone should be outlawed. And Stiles should really keep his attention on what was happening at this very moment and not how Derek could totally Dom his ass and he’d have no problems with it.

What the fuck? Why am I even thinking about this now? Stiles thought in aroused horror. Not being able to distract himself from smelling the air again, Stiles caught onto something odd. Derek had a scent of a predator. Not like a villain or murderer, but of an ANIMAL predator. Though Stiles had no clue how he knew now what a predator smelled like, he blurted out, “Are you a Werewolf?”

Scott gaped at him as if he’d lost his mind. But, no matter how much Stiles wanted to put his foot in his mouth, what was done was done.

Derek regarded him for one long tense moment before he answered with a question of his own, “If I said I was, what would it matter to you?” Mentally, Derek was trying to figure both boys out.

The one to his right that was brown haired and brown eyed, and was wearing grunge clothes with beat up sneakers smelled like a new wolf. He had instantly sensed it coming from the boy when he had watched the Lacrosse practice. Now he knew at least who had been bitten by the mysterious Alpha wolf he had smelled in the area last night. As for the boy on his left, the one who had not even met him for five minutes before cluing into that Derek was a Werewolf; this one he couldn’t place. He knew that two had been bitten last night, but he hadn’t been sure if it was by the same Alpha, or if there had been two animals out in the Preserve turning humans. Regarding the boy carefully, Derek noted the regular grunge clothes with slight interest before he took in the boy’s features. Moles and freckles dotted the boy’s pale skin; he was lanky, lean, and had short buzzed brown hair and soft honey colored brown eyes. And any person with half a brain would get distracted from those long eyelashes and full lips.

And his scent. God, he smelled good. Like freshly put on deodorant, spearmint, lemongrass, and his own unique scent that was currently driving Derek crazy with sudden arousal. He could smell the boy’s arousal as well. The teen was trying to hide it by looking elsewhere but in Derek’s direction. Feeling that he was staring too much, and was paying too much attention to a damned teenaged boy that could easily be six or seven years younger than himself, Derek forced his gaze back onto the other boy, who looked more confused than a bunch of chimps playing chess.

Scott was lost. Stiles could practically sense his brain oozing out of his ears from realizing that Derek was basically telling them that he was a Werewolf. So, Stiles figured it’d be best for him to do the talking until Scott got his head out of his ass.

Unfortunately that meant Stiles had to look at Derek while speaking. Damn. Before Stiles lost his nerve, he started babbling, “Well, Scott and I both got bit last night and we were trying to figure out what sort of animal did it. But, it wasn’t a normal wolf, was it? Even if they got loose from the zoo, they still wouldn’t attack humans, right? And if they had, they would have eaten us. But they didn’t, so whoever it was that bit us must be something else, right? Someone who had enough thought process not to eat us alive. So, it might be a Werewolf….” He trailed off as Derek started looking annoyed.

He couldn’t help it. Stiles was a motor mouth at the best of times, and it was even worse when he felt threatened or under intense situations.

Fuck, the kid talks more than Laura does. Derek thought before grief took hold of him momentarily. Did. Talks more than she did. Crap, this was something Derek knew he had to get used to. But he so did not want to get used to knowing his sister was dead.

Crushing loneliness and guilt overtook him, but Derek forced his way through it, hardening himself. He knew he didn’t have time to grieve. There was probably a loose Alpha out in Beacon Hills somewhere and he needed to find it before anymore random people got turned.

Stiles and Scott warily watched the other man for a minute before Derek seemed to come to an inner conclusion to a silent war. He nodded slowly, “I am a Beta Werewolf.”

“Beta?” Stiles asked, ignoring Scott’s startled curse.

“Yes.” Derek nodded again, this time gesturing to Scott, “He got bit by an Alpha. Only Alphas can turn humans into Werewolves by biting. They are more animal, and stronger than Betas.” He then looked puzzled as he regarded Stiles, “You… are different.

“Oh, gee, make a guy feel better that his whole life is shot to hell.” Stiles muttered softly under his breath before he spastically waved his arms around, “So, what did I get bitten by? The fucking Tooth Fairy?”

Derek fought to hide his smirk at that comment. The kid was amusing. Annoying, but still amusing. “No, you smell like cat. I am still trying to figure out what type.” Derek shrugged. As an afterthought, he tossed Scott his inhaler before saying, “I doubt you will need that in the future.”

Scott blinked at the inhaler now in his hand before he said, “How… why did that Alpha bite me? And do you know who it was? And who bit Stiles?” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit, how am I supposed to believe all this?”

Stiles suddenly muttered, “Figured I would have to be bitten by some sort of Werecat. Meow.”

Derek ignored Stiles and answered Scott’s question, “No, I don’t know who it was that bit the both of you. Only you two have the ability to find that out right now. As for being bit by a Werewolf, you should be thankful. It’s a rare gift to be offered by any Alpha to any human.”

The older Werewolf stiffened as Scott gritted his teeth and bit out, “What if I just wanted a normal life for once? I didn’t ask for this!”

“Scott, stop being an idiot.” Stiles rolled his eyes and playfully jabbed his best friend in the shoulder. “What’s done is done. It’s not the end of the world. Seriously. Plus it’s not Derek’s fault. It’s not like he bit you or me, even though he’d have to be some sort of cat in order to have bitten me, but that’s besides the point.”

Stiles never felt like putting his foot in his mouth that much until now. Too late he realized his slip up. Uh oh. Derek had advanced to stand not two feet in front of him, eyes suddenly blazing electric blue and narrowed. “How do you know my name? We’ve never met before.”

His wolf came to the surface, but Derek held it back barely, knowing it wouldn’t serve anyone good if he lost control and scared the two boys. Damn, he was better than this! He was a born Werewolf, not a turned one, and he’d been in control of his inner wolf for longer than these two had been alive. Still, he couldn’t help feeling threatened by the thought that the Stiles boy had info on him. Information he wasn’t sure he was willing to have anyone knowing just yet.

“Woa, blue eyes glowing. Um, that shouldn’t be so cool looking, but it is.” Stiles gulped as Derek fucking GROWLED at him.

“Just answer the question, idiot.” Derek gritted out, fury making his glowing eyes seem way hotter to Stiles than they should.

Still, Stiles did have SOME sense of self preservation and held up his hands in mock surrender, “Um, I know it because my dad is the Sheriff and I read the police reports of the fire. You look different than you did back then, but I still recognize you.”

“What fire? Stiles, what the hell are you talking about?” Scott asked, being mule-headed and slow on the uptake.

His friend gestured to Derek, “This guy is Derek Hale. He’s only like six or seven years older than us, and he used to live here until a fire burned his house down about six years ago.” He then took note that Derek’s eyes were still flashing a hot, but dangerous blue and he shrugged, “I can’t help it! Stilinski’s are known for their curiosity. Maybe that’s why a Werecat decided to snack on me instead of a Werewolf?”

Derek seemed to get a bit annoyed, but then he sighed, letting go of the wolf inside. As Stiles had mentioned before, what was done was done. There was no going back now. Eyes flickering back to hazel, the Werewolf crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “Stiles Stilinski.” He murmured, as if testing his name out with his mouth. Derek looked over at Scott, and muttered, “And you must be Scott McCall.”

When both teens looked suspicious and a bit creeped out that Derek knew Scott’s full name, the older Werewolf said softly, “Lacrosse practice?”

Both teens looked at one another sheepishly before Scott asked, “Hey, so you watched us play?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Of course he did. I spotted him standing on the other side of the field, using the eyebrows look of doom at us.” He then looked puzzled. “Why were you there in the first place?”

Derek grunted, which Stiles assumed that was a Werewolf gesture of the word ‘meh’, before he said, “I was keeping an eye out for you two. I know there were two bitten last night. I could smell the blood, but I wasn’t sure who it was. Now I know.”

“Oh.” Stiles and Scott both said in unison.

They were all silent for a few minutes before Derek said to Stiles, “You seem to be taking this whole thing rather well.”

“I am not sure if that’s a compliment?” Stiles said hesitantly, before he shrugged, “I am just adapting. Believe me, once I get home I will probably freak out about all this.”

“You already are freaking out, you just aren’t showing it.” Scott chimed in before he blushed and muttered, “Or at least I am.”

Stile chewed on his lower lip but didn’t bother to comment. Derek narrowed his eyes on both of them, which caused Stiles to feel a tightening in his gut, before the older Werewolf sighed deeply, as if coming to a decision.

Derek murmured, “Both of you, meet me at my house at six tomorrow night if you want to be trained. There is much I am going to need to teach you both before the full moon on Friday.” Crap, someone should totally duct tape his mouth shut from spewing off decisions before they were actually thought through. Derek grunted softly, covering his frustration at himself with a normal characteristic poker bitch face.

Scott’s mouth dropped in astonishment before he laughed almost hysterically. “Can you believe this guy?”

Derek ignored the outburst and regarded Stiles before deadpanning, “Is he always this brain stunted?”

Instead of defending his friend like he should, Stiles had the grace to snicker and he shrugged, “I guess some peeps aren’t as open about supernatural shit like I am. But, don’t worry. I will see to it that he gets to training on time.” Then he narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Your house? Oh, you mean the Hale house. Kind of a strange place to meet, eh?”

“It’ll suffice for now.” Derek said before turning to leave.

He winced slightly as Stiles asked, “Um… you didn’t happen to see half of a body running around here lately?”

Derek took a deep breath of pain and loss before he was able to grit out, “She’s buried.” And with that, he walked off, leaving now not just one brain stunted teenager, but two.


Derek sighed deeply as he started his early morning ritual of working out. He was in his old burnt out shell of a house, trying to fathom why the hell he’d offered to train the two new Weres. Granted, the new Werewolf could lead him to the Alpha, who might or might not have killed his sister, Laura, but why had he included the Stilinski boy? Grunting softly, he hoisted himself up to do some pull ups on a sturdy wooden door frame in the broken down house as he mulled things over.

Feeling another spike of grief at the thought of his sister, torn in half, and buried near the side of the house, he tried to focus on something else besides guilt and agony. His thoughts unfortunately turned back to the loud mouthed kid, and again he wondered why he’d decided to spontaneously take up the mantel to teach Stiles alongside his Werewolf buddy.

Was it loneliness that had spawned him to include the Werecat? After Laura had left three weeks ago to come to Beacon Hills, Derek hadn’t really felt alone in her absence. It wasn’t until he’d found her body desecrated, mutilated, and so void of life that it all came crashing down upon him. The loneliness had hit him then. So, had that loneliness and guilt overrun his instincts to exclude the Werecat…or had there been another reason? He shouldn’t care less what happened to the odd talkative boy. Stiles was a Werecat for god’s sake! Werewolves and Werecats of any type did not get along by a long shot. True, their territories often mingled with one another, but both sets of animals usually avoided each other like the plague.

Dropping down to do push-ups on the dusty, glass littered floor, Derek finally decided it must be something else. By the time he got done with his normal routine for working out, he had come no closer to understanding the reason behind offering to train both boys. Scott was solvable. He was a Werewolf and therefore needed help in order to not turn into the Alpha’s plaything. He probably wouldn’t have bothered if not for the fact that Laura’s torn up body had smelled like a strange Alpha, almost like a rabid Alpha. And if this particular Alpha was the same Alpha that bit Scott, then the poor kid needed all the guidance and help he could get. The benefit of the boy possibly leading Derek to the Alpha for confrontation was a plus. If the Alphas were one in the same person, then Derek would make sure that the Alpha paid with his or her life for what they had done to Laura.

It wasn’t simple petty revenge. It was justice, as most Werewolves knew it. You hurt my pack, you pay.

Derek’s thoughts returned to Stiles. What even is a Stiles? He knew for some odd reason that that wasn’t the kid’s real name. It was a fond nickname. And if that nickname was better than his real name, then Derek didn’t even want to know what the poor kid’s real name was. Flopping down on his back, taking care to do so on the least debris covered bit of wooden flooring, Derek mulled over the strange conversation between both Weres and himself that had happened the day before.

In truth, Derek was surprised and even a bit impressed that the Werecat hadn’t flipped out. The normal reaction with recently bitten Weres usually came across as one of two things. Scott’s reaction would be the first type: disbelief, scorn, and finally horrified realization. The second type would be if the human actually wanted the bite. And if that happened then the new Were would adjust accordingly with minimal conflict. At least, that’s what he’d heard from his Uncle Peter before the fire when the fun loving Werewolf used to teach the cubs about Werewolf lore and history.

His chest tightened at the thought of his Uncle, of what he’d once been. Now, the man was a half burned husk of the Werewolf he used to be, being barely alive and catatonic. Derek rubbed his face tiredly and tried to think of a game plan. Laura had always been the one to plan things out, being the Alpha of their two person pack; it had been her responsibility. Now that she was gone, Derek had to fight through his grief to try to remember how she dealt with strategy. She always used to say that if any self-respecting Werewolf played their cards right, then the money would fall into their hands.

Forcing the pain and guilt that riddled his already battered heart into the back of his mind, Derek tried to come up with a plan. Since he had offered to train both new Weres he needed to figure out how to actually do that without seeming like an impatient asshole. He ironically thought of Yoda and smirked slightly. Though Yoda was a good example on how to be a great teacher, Derek knew that he’d never be able to be as patient as the famed Jedi Master. Still, he could always try.

Standing up and stretching, feeling a bit better that he had an actual goal set up, he went for a jog around the perimeter of the Preserve. It took him most of the morning, but it had done wonders to clear his head, and make him feel actually useful. The guilt and pain of losing his sister was still there, but it wasn’t as prevalent as it had been. Derek still wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with having two new Weres to be responsible of, but he at least understood that if he did succeed in teaching the two newbies, then he’d at least know that he’d saved a few lives in the process. Having a makeshift pack in the makings also sounded practical, if not very pleasant. Werewolves were stronger in packs.

He took a quick dip in the fresh running creek near the middle of the Preserve and headed back to the house, ideas spinning around in his head, still able to keep a wary eye out for hunters or any other dangerous creatures as he went. He caught a strange scent near the road and crouching down to examine the area; he finally noted that this was where Stiles had been attacked. Derek had been so anguished by finding and burying his sister that he hadn’t really paid attention to this area of his territory.

Now though, he lifted a few leaves and scented them, trying to discern what had happened to Stiles. What type of Werecat had bitten Stiles? Scowling in thought, he put the leaves down back on the forest ground before smelling the surrounding area for clues. Images flashed by in his thoughts of the Werecat’s attack, and suddenly his eyes widened as he finally scented a few drops of Stiles’ blood that had been spilled from the bite. It was like he’d been socked in the gut by a cannon ball. Shivering, he bit his lip as emotions swirled inside of him. He felt his fangs lengthen in response to the smell of Stile’s blood, eyes starting to flash and burn with fire.


Rocking back onto his heels, Derek shuddered as he tried to hold the wolf in. Fuck. This would have to happen to him. He couldn’t ever catch a break. He laughed softly at the stupid thought. It wasn’t like he deserved to have a break from anything nature wanted to swing his way. He’d caused his whole family to die in that fire. And because he hadn’t taken extra precautions, now Laura was dead. His life was fucked.

It was best to just deal with the torment. It’s what he deserved.

Well, at least he understood now why he’d included Stiles in the training offer. It was kind of hard for a wolf not to want to help it’s mate.

Standing up and trying hard not to give into the wolf’s instincts to go find his mate and protect him, Derek continued on his way back to the house. Taking deep calming breaths, he clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to clear his head from the scent of Stile’s blood. It had smelled wonderful, yes, but the inner wolf of his was not liking the thought that Stiles had been in pain, even if the boy was now completely healed.

He forced himself to go back to where he’d found Laura’s upper half. Determined to try and find out if he might have missed a clue, Derek came upon the area and breathed in the scents around him. The decay of forest leaves and Laura’s blood was still prevalent. However, as he sniffed the outskirts of the area, where he knew Scott had been attacked, he growled. Maybe he hadn’t been as thorough as he’d thought in scenting the area the day before. The scent of the strange Alpha was still there, but now it was mingled with Scott’s scent from the day before. Stiles’ scent was there too, but not mingled with the strange Alpha like Scott’s was. There was a slight shift in the wind and Derek caught the scent of Scott’s blood from two nights before when he’d been attacked. The strange Alpha’s scent was so intermingled with Scott’s blood that it only could mean one thing.

The strange Alpha that bit Scott was almost certainly the same Alpha that had killed his sister. Knowing that he’d have to investigate further to get one hundred percent proof, Derek stood and sighed deeply. At least now he had a lead on his sister’s killer. Maybe training the two boys had been a good choice after all on his part.

Looking up at the sky, he figured he had at least six more hours until the two boys came by… if they actually turned up. Turning his thoughts back to his new found mate, Derek figured he now had some researching to do about Werecats. Despite just finding out that he actually had a mate, Derek was surprisingly calm about this whole thing. Maybe it was his inner wolf’s instinct to protect his mate. And the only way to protect his mate was to learn all he could about Werecats. He knew that there were some old books back in the cheap hotel he had rented for the past few days. The heirlooms were the only things he had left from his family. And now he would treasure them even more, since he was now the sole Hale fit enough to take on his family’s legacy.

It seemed strange that he hadn’t recognized his mate’s scent when he first smelled him the day before, but that could be because Derek hadn’t thought he’d had a mate in the first place. Now that he thought back on that moment, he remembered the look on Stiles’ face as he sniffed the air to scent him. There had been a longing, pleased, but confused look on his face, and the boy’s scent had hit him like a ton of bricks. The scent of arousal coming from the boy had almost been enough for Derek to lose control. But, Derek had brushed it off as the boy just smelling good, and now he realized that the boy had smelled better than that. The scent of Stiles he could still taste in the back of his throat, causing him to rumble softly in arousal.

Trying to concentrate on the task at hand, Derek roughly pushed his wolf instincts to the back of his mind and headed back to the Hale house. Once there, he quickly got into his Camaro. With an aching feeling in his chest, Derek knew that he wouldn’t be able to take claim on the boy, nor did he have a right to. Images of Kate flashed in his head and he willed them away, knowing that he wasn’t going to be her, even if it killed him to not take his mate until his mate was ready, if he ever was. Sometimes fate was a bitch, but it’s not like Derek didn’t deserve all that he was getting. Again guilt and sorrow filled his thoughts and being until he roughly pushed those thoughts away too. Now wasn’t the time for grieving. Despite the spastic reasoning behind offering to teach the two new Weres, they were now dependent on him. And Derek felt he could deal with being needed for once in his life. It felt good to be needed, if not wanted.

He was going to have to focus on being a good teacher to those two, even if he had to go through literal torture being unattached to his mate. Fingering the firm steering wheel of his car comfortingly, Derek pulled the Camaro out from behind the burned house and headed towards the cheap hotel. Now that he knew that he had a mate to look out for, Derek realized it’d be best to possibly search for an apartment.

It wasn’t because he wanted to have a possible wolf den to show off for his mate, he tried to tell himself. It was being practical. An apartment would be more stable than living in his old burned house that held too many buried memories. Plus, it’d be nice to find something to call his own for a change besides his Camaro. Lord knows he could afford buying the whole city of Beacon Hills due to the fact that his family had left both Laura and himself extremely wealthy, but Derek and Laura both had refrained from using hardly any of it.

The only things that they seemed to spend on were necessities and food. That is, until Derek got old enough to go to College. Then it had been for tuition, books, classes, that sort of thing. And when Derek had received his degree in Computer Sciences just this past Spring, Laura had been so proud of him that she had bought the Camaro for him as a graduation present. He would have protested if not for the fact that for once in his life Derek had felt like he’d accomplished something for himself and if his sister wanted to buy him the car, who was he to complain? The only reason why she had bought the car in the first place was due to the fact that she had caught Derek eyeing a black Camaro, not unlike the one he has now, at the Auto shop when they had to take Laura’s car in for a regular checkup.

Feeling pain flare up again into his chest, Derek pushed those thoughts away. The Camaro had been expensive and he’d treated it like it was his baby ever since Laura had given it to him. But, now that she was gone, it was one of the only things left that he had of her. And that made it priceless.

Drawing his thoughts back to reality, he pulled into the hotel’s parking area, wanting nothing more than to shower, eat some grub, and get to work on looking through those old books. He had brought them with him on the trip down from New York, only because he never liked the thought of leaving them anywhere for too long without supervision. And now he was glad he had brought them. Maybe they would give him some hint of info on the type of Werecat that had bitten Stiles. Plus, there was an old book on Werewolf defense, which would be good to look over and take notes on before the training tonight.

He’d already read the books practically frontwards and backwards, all except for one book. It had been a sort of Bestiary, but it had been encoded in Latin. Only his sister had been able to read it. But, that’s why he had his laptop to download things onto and fortunately for him, he was efficient in using deciphering systems on the internet. It had been sort of a random hobby of his when he’d been in college. He’d never thought that it would come in handy this soon after graduating.

Shutting the engine off, Derek got out of his car, clicked it locked, and went into the hotel room, wrinkling his nose at the stale scent of previous humans and bad cleaning supplies. Yep. He was so going to have to find an apartment. And soon.


“I don’t trust him.” Scott said again for the fifteen-hundredth time that day.

They were currently leaving the school parking lot, it being a rare day without Lacrosse practice. They would have left earlier if it had not been for the fact that both Stiles and Scott got detention from Harris due to talking too much in the classroom. Fuck, their second day of school and Harris was already handing out the pink slips. The detention had been boring and had sucked majorly, but they had dealt with it. Now it was five thirty and they were going to have to boogie it to make it on time for training.

It was also an odd day that Scott didn’t have to work at the clinic, and Stiles didn’t have to work at the Papa Mama’s pizzeria for a change. Stiles felt that it was really ironic that Derek had asked them both to come by on a day where there were not going to be any conflicts. Oh, Stiles knew for a fact that Derek probably had no friggin’ clue that both Scott and himself had a rare free evening, but it still was ironic. Maybe it was just a random coincidence, and maybe he was just putting too much thought into this whole thing.

The night before after Stiles had dropped Scott off at the clinic, the Werecat had gone home to research. He also had had a random off day from work Monday, so he’d had plenty of time to Google practically everything under the sun and the moon and the stars about Werewolves, Werecats, shape-shifters, and everything paranormal. Everything he’d managed to pull up was either way out of this world, or way too creepy to even think about. Seriously, some people were creepily into bestiality, of which Stiles really did not ever want to glimpse at ever again. The porn wasn’t just bad porn, it was disturbing on a whole new level of disturbing.

Stiles had managed to go through most of the evening reading through old myths and legends on a few sites that actually weren’t as weird as most of the sites on Google and came to the conclusion that being a Werecat sucked. For one thing, there was way more info on Werewolves than on Werecats when it came to myths. Most of the Werecat stuff he had managed to glimpse at had origins in Egypt. They were supposedly descendants of either the Goddess Bast, or Bastet, which was depicted as a fierce lioness goddess at one time but then started looking more like an average black cat goddess, or the Goddess Sekhmet, which was also a fierce lioness goddess. So, on the full moon, was he going to turn into some lion type Werecat?

The boy had then also looked at other cultures, and of course there were several other different kinds of myths on what a Werecat looked like. Some even had similarities to Saber Tooth cats and Siberian Tigers. He had pretty much fallen asleep, face plastered on his keyboard after about two hours of researching and had startled awake with a flailing squawk when he’d heard his phone ringing. Scott had been on the other line saying that Allison had come by the clinic due to accidentally hitting a stray dog, and one thing led to another and now both were going on a date Friday night at Jackson’s party.

Seriously? Jackson, as in asshole Jackson? How did that even happen? Jackson hated Scott and Stiles. It was like a mutual “hate the nerdy asthmatic and the flailing buffoon” hatred of them both. And on Friday of all times? Friday was the friggin’ full moon. From what Stiles had read on the Werewolf and Werecat myths was that the full moon DID cause both species to shift into their baser, animal selves, and it DID cause them to want to hurt things. Badly. As in ripping anything breathing to shreds and treating all the corpses like buffet cuisines. And Stiles really didn’t want to think about the whole blood thing either.

So, it begged to reason that Stiles just knew that Derek wasn’t going to be happy if he found out about the party, if either one of them told him about it in the first place.

Fuck, the dude probably would find out anyways even if the boys never told him about it.

Stiles rubbed his face and tried to keep from flailing all over the place and to actually drive instead of crashing his jeep. Granted, his jeep was a piece of shit, but at least it got him places. And it’s not like he was loaded with cash like Jackson’s family was, so the jeep was pretty precious to him since it was either drive the leaky, beat up thing or walk. Scott mumbled, “Shit I don’t trust him. I don’t think this is a good idea, Stiles.”

“Will you fucking quit it, asshat?” Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. At Scott’s wounded puppy look beside him, Stiles chewed on his bottom lip and finally gave up on being irritable. Scott’s puppy look always got him, even when Stiles had a right to be pissed at his buddy. He just never could stay mad at him. “Look, I don’t trust him either. I mean, he just shows up out of the blue, and offers to help us out.”

He then sighed again, “But, Scott, it’s not like we have a choice not to at least LISTEN to what he has to say tonight. I mean, trust me, dude. I researched for a long time last night and everything I read about this whole Werewolf-cat deal is not cool. The whole extra senses are pretty awesome, but there is always a price to pay for it.”

Scott nodded, though he had this confused look on his face, which made Stiles want to smack him upside the head at least to get his buddy to not look so much the idiot. Instead, Stiles explained, “Ok, so, let’s say that some of the myths and legends are right about being turned into a Werewolf or Werecat. That means that on the full moon, both of us, and I mean BOTH of us, are going to lose complete control of ourselves, turning into really freaky strange beasts. But, that’s not the best – horrible part of it. The full moon just so happens to be the time when both of our bloodlusts are at their highest. Meaning we will maim and we will kill.”

Scott looked a bit queasy as he digested Stiles’ words, but then he rubbed his face and muttered, “How do we even know that this is all going to happen, Stiles? I mean, seriously, what if we weren’t bitten by any Werewolf or Werecat? What if this is just some sick joke made up by Derek to scare us?”

Ok, now Scott was being utterly mule-headed. Stiles pointed out, “Are you kidding me? Scott, look, I know you don’t like Derek. But, there’s the whole thing that I, for one, do NOT want to be the person who takes a chance and ignores this and ends up getting his friends or his family killed. I would rather play it safe and go ahead and at least listen to Derek for now. Ok?”

Scott nodded sullenly before he mumbled, “If he tries to tell me I can’t go to that party with Allison this Friday, I am going to punch his stupid face.”

Stiles had to snicker at that one. Just the image of Scott trying to manhandle the older Werewolf was pretty fucking hilarious. Scott would have his ass handed to him in a heartbeat. He wasn’t sure why he knew that, he just did. “Well maybe he can help us learn to control ourselves before Friday, hm?” Not that Stiles believed that they’d be trained completely by that time, but he wasn’t going to be the one to burst Scott’s bubble.

“Maybe. I hope so.” Scott got his puppy expression on his face again before he grinned, “Dude, I can’t believe Allison said yes to the party. I mean, she’s so gorgeous, and smells so good, and I just… can’t believe it.”

Stiles arched an amused eyebrow at his buddy before he just sighed and continued to drive. Sometimes Scott was such a puppy. But, then again, maybe that’s why the Werewolf Alpha chose Scott to bite the other day. Something was nagging in the back of his mind though. Stiles knew there was something important he was missing about the whole attacks on both him and Scott, but for the life of him he couldn’t put his finger on it. He mulled on it for a while until they turned off of the main road and onto a strip of gravel road that had seen better days. Thank god they were in his jeep. Scott’s mom’s car would have busted a few things going over some of the tall weeds spattered all over the place.

Finally pulling up in front of the burned Hale house next to a sleek black Camaro that oozed sexiness, Stiles turned to look at his still blissed out friend. “You ready for this?”

“Yea. I guess.” Scott nodded.


Derek surveyed both boys through a fractured window from an upstairs room in the broken down house. It was one of the more stable rooms on the second floor, and he probably was going to use it in the future as a good vantage point to observe the goings on outside the house from higher up. This also had been his old room, or what was left of it. Nothing much had changed in the room since Laura and Derek had looted the area six years before, searching for anything that might be salvageable after the fire. There hadn’t been much that they’d found, but from the looks of things, and the smell of things, Laura had created a temporary hideout in this room. It made sense then why when Derek had checked earlier at the surrounding hotels and motels that he hadn’t found Laura’s scent in any one of those places. She must have figured it’d be best to stay at the Hale house for now. She had gone mostly on foot, or took the bus, since the local rent-a-car places didn’t have anyone registered under her name. Derek found that was a bit odd that Laura would not at least have a car to drive around town in. Maybe she had figured to leave less traceable evidence of being at Beacon Hills? But, if that was the case, then that would mean she knew that she might be followed.

But, by hunters? Or the other Alpha? It all confused Derek.

And why did Laura want to use his room for a temporary den? Why not her own room? Laura’s room had been located just across the hall from his own, and was just about as sturdy as this one. The only reason Derek could think of was the fact that this room faced the road and the driveway, whereas Laura’s faced the woods.

After downloading and deciphering most of the titles of the Bestiary, Derek had come no closer to finding out what sort of Werecat his mate had been bitten by. He knew there was a whole section on Werecats in the Bestiary, but unfortunately he hadn’t had the time to decipher any of it. Now that he knew that Stiles was his mate, he had wanted to go check up on him after searching the surrounding hotels, motels, and rent-a-car places for Laura’s scent. So, he had stopped by the school on the way back to the hotel. He hadn’t got out of his car, trying hard not to seem the creepy stalker type of guy, but he had been able to focus in on Stiles as he was conversing with Scott for the last hour of class. The boy really did talk too much. Strangely enough it didn’t bother him as it should have. Maybe his wolf found Stiles endearing or something like that. He had listened to them for that hour before he figured he’d best go, and at least his wolf was satisfied with knowing the boy was ok.

He had gone back to the hotel and searched for apartments in the local area this time online. He knew he was going to have to eventually call his landlady in New York to settle his lease, and therefore go for a quick trip up there to get all of his and Laura’s things to move down here. But that all would have to wait until he at least got Scott and Stiles trained to go through their first couple of full moons without tearing apart everything in the near vicinity that had a heartbeat. Even after he had left the hotel, he’d managed to arrive here at the Hale house thirty minutes early and since he hadn’t much else to do for now besides wait for the two to show up, he started actively searching for any clues behind Laura’s death. What had she been searching for here?

All he remembered from their last phone conversation six days before hand, was that Laura said she might have found something important, and for Derek to get his ass down there to help her out. He couldn’t help the throbbing pain of guilt ride his gut that he hadn’t just flown out here instead of driven all the way from New York to here. If he’d been quicker, he might have been able to help her not get killed.

Derek had pushed the thoughts away as he had continued to sniff and root around the house, finally making his way to his own room where Laura’s scent had been the strongest. There was a small nest of blankets and an old mattress shoved next to the wall, and a few print outs, but nothing much else to go on. Derek couldn’t have helped the urge to curl into his sister’s blankets, and bask in her familiar scent, but he knew that he had the two teens coming to be trained by him soon. So, the cuddling would have to wait for now.

Now, though, as he watched the two boys get out of Stiles’ banged up jeep, he wondered if this was going to work at all. True, both boys needed direction and teaching, but did Derek have the skill to be the teacher? Flickering his troubled hazel eyes from one teen to the other, settling on his mate, he sighed deeply, but silently. Now that he took a good look at Stiles, he knew without a doubt that he had to be the one to teach both boys. He really didn’t have much of a choice. Besides, his inner wolf would want to insure that Stiles and everyone around him was protected. No, it would demand it.

There was no point in stalling the inevitability. Derek turned and gazed longingly at his sister’s stuff before he went without a backward glance to go downstairs to meet the newbies. His sister would have to wait for a little while longer.


“Um, you sure he said to meet us here?” Scott asked softly, trying to scan the whole house to see if anyone was in it.

Stiles gave his friend an incredulous look before he said sarcastically, “No, I am not sure.” Then he spastically waved his arms. “Dude, you were fucking there with me. You heard him tell us to meet him here!”

Scott blushed slightly and shrugged, “Calm down. I was kind of freaking out yesterday. Seriously, it’s not every day someone drops the whole ‘you are a Werewolf’ thing on you.”

Stiles figured he was right, but that still didn’t excuse the fact that Scott was being absent minded. Like usual. Stiles rolled his eyes at his friend before he said, “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Scott followed him nervously to the burnt porch of the Hale house, absently rubbing his arms. “Dude, this place gives me the creeps.”

“Yea, you and me both.” Stiles muttered before he folded his arms across his chest, turning to look at his buddy expectantly.

“What?” Scott asked, confused.

“Dude, you are a Werewolf, Derek is a Werewolf. I am a Werecat. So, that makes you bro to Derek whether you want to be or not, and it makes me probably left over sludge.” When Scott looked more puzzled, Stiles sighed, “Oh MY GOD! Scott, cats and dogs usually don’t get along. It’s one of the oldest stories in the book. So, obviously, you will, I don’t know, BOND better with him if you take the first initiative. Knock on the door, call him out, or whatever. Just do it.”

Scott rolled his eyes but did what he was told. He reached up and knocked on the rotted front door and both boys waited for a bit. It didn’t take long for Derek to open the door and come outside to join them. Stiles couldn’t help but almost drool at Derek’s presence. Seriously, how could any man look so hot in just a plain long sleeved grey shirt, black jeans, and combat boots? Stiles sniffed the air, not being able to help it and nearly melted into an orgasmic puddle of goo at the scent coming off of Derek. It oozed sex and a wildness that Stiles knew was all Derek. Yep, he was screwed.

Despite sensing that his mate was trying his best not to drool all over the place with arousal, Derek’s eyes narrowed at both boys. “That was ridiculous.” He deadpanned.

When both Stiles and Scott started to protest, he shut them up by saying, “It took you both five minutes to get the courage to come up and knock on a stupid door.” He lifted his eyebrows when both looked a bit sheepish. He looked at both for a few minutes before he finally turned his attention to Stiles, who was trying very hard not to fidget with the hem of his red hoodie.

“Stiles.” He said softly, causing the boy to look up at him nervously. “You need to have more confidence in yourself and your abilities. Just because you are not a Werewolf, does not mean that you are not still considered pack. What this means is that you and Scott are both equals. You should not sell yourself short just because you think – wrongly I might add – that Scott will be more able to bond with me than you. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Hey, lay off of him. He doesn’t know much about anything, and neither do I.” Scott defended Stiles, of which the Werecat was torn between being grateful that his friend was very loyal, and wanting to smack him upside the head for thinking that he was some sort of damsel in distress.

“And you.” Derek pointed his finger at Scott. “You need to get your head out of your ass.”

At Scott’s affronted look and Stiles’ snort, Derek elaborated, “That’s right. I know all about your little secret date for the not so secret party for this Friday, of which just so happens to be on the full moon. And it’s not just any full moon. This is both of your guys’ first. That means both of you will be not only more driven to kill, but also you both will be at your most vulnerable.”

Scott looked like he was about to protest but Derek didn’t give him the time to, gesturing both boys to follow him off the porch, saying in his wake, “You know, I am beginning to wonder if you both are serious about being trained.”

“Wait, were you stalking us today?” Scott asked, incredulously.

Stiles rolled his eyes for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day. “Scott, seriously?” He nearly rammed right into Derek as the older Werewolf just suddenly stopped walking.

Stiles sniffed the air and maneuvered himself around Derek before he finally noted what he had smelled. “Dude, you have a dead body buried here?” Was that the same girl that had been cut in half? If so, why had Derek buried her here of all places?

Scott forgot his recent line of thought and came to stand next to Stiles, looking at the grave in wonder. “What’s going on?”

Derek sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face before he crouched down next to the grave and gently ran his fingers through some of the fresh dirt. “If you don’t want to be trained, then you shouldn’t be here.”

Stiles saw the tense, almost defeated look on the older boy’s face and something inside him melted. Practically melted. He was so going to regret this. “It’s not like we don’t want to be trained, Derek. We just don’t know what to expect at all. I mean, both of us haven’t really shifted before, and well, we –“

He was cut off by the Werewolf. “Want to be shown.”

“Dude, I still think the flashy blue eyed thing yesterday sold me completely, but Scott here wanted more proof.” Stiles gestured to Scott.

Scott still was looking at the grave apprehensively but muttered, “Yea. Showing would be nice. And please tell us why you have a dead body buried here!”

Derek rolled his eyes and turned to look the other way, shielding his face from the others. He continued to sift his hands through some of the dirt. “She was my sister. She would have wanted to have been buried here.”

“Your sister?!” Scott gaped in horror. “This is a fresh grave, when did she die? How did she die?”

Leave it to Scott to be very insensitive at times like these. Stiles regarded Derek’s hunched form and sighed deeply. “Scott, shut up for once and let the man grieve. I bet he’ll tell us in a bit, so calm down.”

Derek, knowing that his mate couldn’t see his face, allowed himself to indulge in a small smile. He had to admit, Stiles was full of compassion. Still, it’d be better to get this over with so they could start training. He didn’t have the luxury to grieve. Not right now. He still had to find Laura’s killer, get these two Were’s trained, and search for apartments. Once things settled a bit, then he might be able to grieve properly. But, for right now, he couldn’t.

“It’s ok, Stiles.” Derek murmured softly, before he explained, “About three weeks ago, I think my sister came down here looking for clues into what happened the night of the fire. After six years, I thought she’d given up on this place, but I guess not. Almost a week ago she called me and told me that she had found something, and wanted me to come here to help her out. She wouldn’t say what she’d found over the phone, and I if I had known what I know now, I would have pushed harder to get answers. I would have jumped on a plane and been with her so I could help protect her. But, I figured it was nothing too serious, so I just drove down from New York, figuring it’d be a nice reprieve to drive. I got here two days ago, and by then I knew it was too late. I could smell her blood from the driveway here, but she had been drug out into the middle of the Preserve, cut in half, and left as bait to catch me.”

Derek suddenly growled lowly in his throat, trying to fight back the pain and the guilt. “I only was able to find half of her, the other half found by the police. I knew I couldn’t do much for her other half, but the half I did have, I buried here. I knew she would have wanted to be close to the house.”

He felt a firm, but gentle long fingered hand light on his shoulder. Derek knew that Stiles was just trying to comfort him, but even though he relished it, he still knew that he didn’t deserve it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Scott seemed to wrap his head around what Derek had said before he finally asked, trying to be gentle, “Why would someone do that to her?”

Derek leaned into his mate’s touch a little, trying hard not to nuzzle that hand that was on his shoulder. It had been a very long time since he’d felt any sort of comfort from anyone. Even his sister hadn’t been as cuddly as she used to be. That probably had been partly his fault, being defensive and drowning in his own guilt. Forcing himself to answer Scott, Derek said, “Why do you think? At first I thought it might have been hunters, ones whose sole purpose in life is to hunt down Werewolves, since I caught the scent of some that had been here recently. But, then when I took a good look at her top half and sniffed her wounds, I realized that the hunters had dragged her two halves out into the Preserve to bait me to possibly go into a rage and attack them. Some hunters live by a code to not hurt a Werewolf unless the Were tries to kill or harm them. But, regardless of all that, the hunters did not kill my sister.”

“Do you know who did?” Stiles asked softly, ignoring Scott’s soft ‘there’s hunters?!’ exclamation, gently kneading his fingers into Derek’s shoulder. He knew the guy probably really didn’t want this attention, but Stiles couldn’t help but want to comfort him. God knew that he’d needed comfort during the time of his mother’s passing, and had been grateful that at least he’d had his dad. Derek didn’t have anyone though. And Stiles guessed that if they had to get trained by the older Werewolf, then it might be good to try and get to know him better, even if he still wasn’t sure if he liked the guy yet. Granted, Derek was insanely attractive, and his scent drove Stiles crazy with want and lust, but he knew next to nothing about him besides what the Werewolf was telling Scott and him now.

“I have my suspicions.” Derek turned slightly to look over his shoulder at Scott and narrowed his eyes.

Scott chewed on his lip awkwardly before he asked, “What?”

“I think the person who murdered my sister might be the Alpha that bit you.” Derek confessed bitterly.

Scott’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?!”

“Very.” Derek deadpanned.

“What are we going to do?! What if he or she comes looking for me? What if – OH MY GOD, I can’t believe this shit.” Scott protested, getting all defensive and panicked.

Stiles rolled his eyes, and removed his hand from Derek’s shoulder. If Scott got his ass handed to him by Derek right now, Stiles would so not be surprised. Sometimes Scott was denser than a brick wall. He walked over to his friend and muttered, “Real smooth Scott.”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, arching a brow.

“He’s obviously telling the truth.” Stiles gritted out. “I don’t know how I can tell, but I can.”

“Still!” Scott protested.

Derek rolled his eyes, wondering again why he’d decided to teach these two. “Fine. You want proof, then you will get it.” Derek stood and rubbed his hands together to get the dirt off of them. He turned to look at them, and said, “If I show you, then there is no going back. You won’t be able to just walk away from this. That means you are going to have to start taking this more seriously.” He pointedly looked at Scott when he said this, knowing that it wasn’t Stiles that was having issues believing in Weres. It was Scott.

Scott shifted under his knowing gaze and muttered, “Fine. But, you have to like, not hold back or anything. If we are going to be taught, we need to know everything you know.”

For once Stiles agreed whole heartedly with Scott, but he did add for safe measure, “And, if we are going to be part of a pack, we need to know how to reach you.” Yep, and Stiles was totally trying not to think of other certain personal reasons as to why he wanted Derek’s phone number. If Derek even had a cell phone. Or a phone in general.

“Fair enough.” Derek conceded.

“Pack?” Scott was confused, “Derek, you said that word before. What does it mean?” Stiles gritted his teeth. Sometimes he wished his buddy had more common sense.

“Yes, pack. As in wolf pack. Werewolves travel in packs, right?” Stiles broke in, looking at Derek for confirmation.

The man nodded curtly before elaborating, “Werewolves have packs, or groups that they band together with. Packs are stronger in numbers. Sometimes they are made up of families, other times it is made up of just friends or close acquaintances. Since I am going to be teaching you both how to survive, and how to defend yourselves against hunters and possibly other Weres, we are connected. Call it a teacher, student relationship or whatever you want to call it. I don’t care. Most times Werewolf packs are made up of one Alpha, or if there are two, Alpha Mates, and three or more Betas. But, in some cases, like ours, we are just Betas. Since I am teaching you, I am going to be pack leader, but that doesn’t mean you have to do everything I say. It just means that you have to defer to me for loyalty and good judgment. I have been a Werewolf for longer than either of you two have been born, since I was born a Werewolf, therefore I have experience and the skill to protect. So, even if you don’t have to obey my word, you will have to listen, and you will have to understand. Is that clear?”

“Crystal Clear.” Scott said, still looking a bit wary of Derek. “But, one thing bothers me though. If we are, as you say, Weres, then why do you want to teach US? What’s in it for you?”

That actually is a good question, Stiles mentally commended his friend. He had been wondering the same thing.

Derek mulled over what he should tell them, and finally decided to tell them the truth, leaving out only a few things. “As I said before, Werewolves are stronger in packs. Besides, I don’t think it’d be wise to have two new Weres that have no clue what they are doing manage to get people maimed or killed. However, if the Alpha that bit Scott is the Alpha that killed my sister, I am going to need all the help I can get to kill him or her.”

“Kill him or her? Like some personal vendetta? Are you fucking insane?!” Scott stared at Derek incredulously. “And why can’t you just find them and kill them? Why do you need our help?”

Stiles sighed deeply and assumed, “Scott, don’t be a dumbass. Derek just told you that Weres are stronger in packs. And from what he said yesterday, Alpha’s are stronger than Betas, so it stands to reason that he needs our help to kill the Alpha. Besides, if the Alpha is trying to make a pack of Werewolf Betas, then maybe it would be a good idea to kill it before it bites anyone else. Right?”

Derek nodded, taken aback by how astute the teenager was. He had to admit, his mate was smart. Of course Stiles was leaving out the whole ‘vendetta’ that Scott had mentioned, but he wasn’t going to push on that one. He was beginning to understand that Stiles knew what he was doing when talking to the other teenager. So, he let him have the ball, and rolled with it.

Scott sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“Super Green. Now that that has been settled, shift please.” Stiles piped up at the same time. Not knowing why, but Stiles was starting to get a bit excited about this whole training thing. And plus, he’d get to see Derek all wolfed out pretty soon! (If Scott stopped being a dumbass btw) It was totally academic of course! And Stiles could totally lie to himself, but he didn’t care.

Derek rolled his eyes briefly for what seemed to be the thousandth time at the actions of both boys before he carefully looked around. Noting that they were indeed alone for the most part except for a few birds in the trees surrounding the old broken down Hale house, he decided that if he had to shift to show the two boneheads – no just one, Stiles believed he was one already – that he was indeed a Werewolf, and that no, he was not making this up, so now would be the time to do it. Feeling a bit apprehensive as well as a bit annoyed at having to do this, Derek ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply.

Stiles was about to say something, but he stopped himself as Derek shifted. It was a slightly slower process than Stiles would have thought it’d be, but maybe Derek was doing it at that pace to make it more gruesome. Or maybe to show both Scott and Stiles that he wasn’t doing any stupid magic tricks. This was totally for Scott’s benefit then, since Stiles had already told Derek truthfully that he already got the proof yesterday with the flashing hot blue eyes. This time though, once Derek was done shifting, and was now regarding both of them with those same hot blue eyes, Stiles felt fascinated.

Not just fascinated, but also a bit aroused. Damn. How could Derek be so hot even as a shifted Werewolf? It seemed a bit unfair, unless both Scott and himself would turn into hunks after they shifted too? Suddenly, bestiality – though it still wasn’t his thing, he could totally see the appeal. And Derek wasn’t like a full wolf shifter, so he did look like a human hybrid of some sort, so even if he was aroused by this new Derek look, it wasn’t bestiality at all, for the most part! Shaking his thoughts from that strange path, Stiles took in Derek’s features. Derek’s face seemed more blunt, with a raised nasal area and forehead, his ears had grown into elf like appendages, there was some furry scruff on his cheeks, and his fangs. Oh his fangs.

Yep, Stiles was learning that fangs were now on a list of kinkiness he was mentally filing into the back of his perverted mind. Dude, Derek had like fangs on both sets of canines, and somehow that made Stiles more aroused and intrigued than those old scary vampire movies he used to watch. Even Lon Chaney Jr. had nothing on this guy. Biting his lip, he forced his eyes to move to Derek’s hands, of which he somehow knew were going to be clawed.

He was correct in his assumption, and before he could stop himself, Stiles was walking up to Derek and reaching out to grab his hand. Turning the hand over, Stiles examined the claws, murmuring finally, “This is so friggin’ cool!” Yep, totally not into bestiality. Nope. Not one bit.

He absently turned his attention to Scott and laughed, “Scott, you should see these. These totally beat Batman by a longshot.”

Stiles caught Scott’s horrified, if not strangely amused look and rolled his eyes. “Scott, I am fucking serious! This is awesome.”

“I am glad you think so.” Derek growled out with an annoyed huff, but made no move to withdraw his hand from Stiles’ grasp. He tried to ignore the feeling of how much his wolf was loving the attention, but failed slightly when Stiles suddenly dropped his hand as if it’d burned him.

Stiles blinked a few times and blushed scarlet in embarrassment, backing up a bit and apologizing, “Sorry dude, I totally blame Adderall.” He then smiled a bit hesitantly, “But, with all due respect, your Royal Sourwolfness, you look fucking spectacular as a Werewolf.”

Really? Sourwolf? Derek hoped that wasn’t going to be an often occurring nickname. He had every reason in the world to be sour. But, still, it was degrading to have a nickname like that. Fair enough that Derek had heard way worse nicknames, but REALLY? Derek rolled his neck and shifted back into his human form and sighed, not really sure how to answer that backhanded compliment. Finally he rubbed his left shoulder and said sarcastically, “Thanks for your approval.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but inwardly beamed. Derek wasn’t bashing him into the ground for totally going fanboy on him, and was actually being well, normal Dereky, so he’d take that as a good sign. The previous tenseness and heaviness of talking about Laura was gone. Scott however, ruined it by saying, “Damnit! How am I going to be able to go out with Allison to that party? I have no idea if I am going to hurt someone on the full moon.”

“Maybe it’d be a good idea if you reschedule? Yes, you will hurt someone if you go out on the full moon.” Derek nodded seriously, folding his arms over his chest.

“Dude, you just got proof that we are actually NOT human anymore and you are spazzing out about ALLISON?” Stiles face palmed.

“Well I can’t help it!” Then Scott narrowed his eyes at Derek, trying hard not to panic, and failing miserably. “Can I kill someone?”

“Yes.” Duh. Hadn’t he just told Scott that he was training them both so they wouldn’t kill anyone? Derek really was thinking Scott had an issue with using his head for common sense… or any sense for that matter.

“Will I kill someone?” Scott asked desperately, totally freaking out

“Probably.”Derek deadpanned.

“Fuck.” Scott put his hands over his face and took a few deep breaths. “Dude, what am I going to do? I can’t just reschedule. I mean I can’t believe a girl like her would give me a second chance.”

Derek forced himself not to roll his eyes and fought for patience. Stiles saw that look and tried to reign in his melodramatic friend. He went over and wrapped an arm around Scott’s shoulders, saying, “Stop freaking out, buddy. We still have some time. And even if you can’t go to that party on Friday night, I doubt Allison would just blow you off for someone else. She digs you.”

“She does?” Scott sounded hopeful, and so obviously overkill cuteness that Stiles really wanted to hurl in the next bush, and from sending a glance over at Derek, the guy felt the same way. Still, Scott was his best friend, so he’d might as well get him to calm down.

“Yes. Otherwise she would have said no to that party, right? So just call her and tell her that something came up and that you will be able to go out on a date on Sunday or sometime like that, since you have an off day at the clinic.” Stiles patted his friend on the back before turning his attention completely to Derek.

Derek saw the boy’s nervous stance and arched a brow, curious to see what his mate was going to say next. He didn’t have to wait long for Stiles to finally meet his gaze headlong and say, “Ok, I am in. Teach away, Yoda.”

Scott was still mooning about not being able to go out with Allison on the full moon, but he nodded and said, “Yea, me too.”