Disclaimer: This story was inspired by the 'Cup song' performed by Anna Kendrick. I claim no rights to it at all. I claim no rights to the characters of Teen Wolf. They belong to Jeff Davis.

Warnings: slash, explicit content, OOC, Magic!Stiles, Pack-mom!Stiles, Pack Dynamics, Angst, Drama

I'm taking this opportunity to thank Velena Velaryon for betaing this story! Thank you my dear! You're the absolute best!


Stiles swallowed as he looked around his room. Everything he had was packed, and he was ready to take off. No one but his father knew that he was leaving. Truth be told, he didn't think anyone would care. Scott was too busy trying to convince Allison that they could still be together, especially now that Gerard was gone and the supposed danger was over. Derek and Isaac were busy taking care of Erica and Boyd, and trying to ignore Peter.

Stiles couldn't find a reason to stay.

He told his father everything, unable to keep quiet any longer. Sheriff John Stilinski was not happy with the fact that his son decided to pack up and leave, but he knew he couldn't stop him. The teen needed to get away from it all and he would do everything in his power to make it so.

Stiles has had enough.

He has had enough of trying to help only to receive nothing in return. Scott ran off the moment it was over not even thinking to ask if Stiles was alright. Derek and his Pack were together now; and even though Stiles wanted to see them - even though he wanted to see if they were alright - he couldn't go there.

Derek hardly suffered him on a good day, and wanted to bite his head off on a bad day, so no-thank-you-very-much but Stiles - even though he wasn't exactly famous for that- knew when to gracefully step down. He took his bags and carried them down the stairs, stacking them in the hallway by the front door. He went back to his room to check if he had everything and nodded to himself.

He was leaving tomorrow at noon. His father was taking a day off so they could have breakfast together and John could take Stiles to the bus station where he would board a bus for South Carolina where his paternal grandparents lived. 'I need this,' he thought as he walked over to his table and took the bus ticket he bought earlier that day. 'I need to get away from here. I need to get away from everything.'

He swallowed difficultly and looked around again and thought, 'I need to get my own life'.


I've got my ticket for the long way 'round;
two bottles of whiskey for the way.


He walked down the stairs and into the living room. He twitched when his phone rang. Feeling hesitant he pulled it out slowly and threw himself on the couch. Stiles frowned when he saw Scott's name blinking on the screen and raised an eyebrow, pursing his lips.

"Two weeks of nothing and now a text?" he muttered trying to decide whether he should read it or not.

He huffed and shook his head. "No," he muttered and deleted the text.

Stiles threw his phone on the tea table and flopped back on the couch before he stretched to grab the remote. He turned on the TV and started flipping channels. 'Sorry, Scotty-m'-boy,' he thought as tried to find something decent to watch. 'But I tried. I really did. Seems you can live just fine without me.' He found the reruns of X-files and settled to watch them.

'You can continue to do so,' he thought haughtily.


You're gonna miss me when I'm gone.


Stiles jumped awake when his phone beeped loudly.

"What the fuck?!" he snapped and looked around. 'When did I fall asleep?' he thought as he grabbed his phone. 'Hell. I slept through - 15 missed calls and 26 texts?!' he looked through them, his eyebrows climbing higher and higher on his forehead.

"Well, spank me and call me Watson," he murmured.

Derek, Scott, Lydia and Isaac all left him texts. His father called him twice and then left a text. He opened that one immediately and smiled.

I'm ordering pizza tonight. Any specific wishes?

Stiles snorted and shook his head.

Make it unhealthy.

He wrote and sent it to his dad telling himself he could do this for him; just this once. Stiles went back to missed calls and texts and frowned in indecision, his legs hopping nervously.

"Fuck it," he muttered and opened Lydia's text.

Stiles, Scott called me. He says you're not answering his calls.
Would you please tell him to stop bothering me? I have better things to do than play matchmaker.

Stiles snorted and deleted the message. He opened a message from Scott and frowned.

Stiles, please answer your phone! This is urgent! I've been trying to reach you for HOURS! What the hell?!

Stiles grunted and deleted that text looking for the earlier ones.

He opened one of Derek's first texts.

I called Scott. There's a pack meeting tonight. Be there. He will.

He raised an eyebrow at that. Why would Derek call him in for a pack meeting? He could understand why he would call Scott, but Stiles was neither a werewolf nor was he part of the pack.

He opened another one of Derek's texts.

Stiles, Scott called. Text me back. Is something wrong?

His eyebrows touched the line of his hair as he moved on to the next one.

Stiles, answer me RIGHT NOW or I'm coming over!

The hyperactive teen frowned and opened Scott's first message.

Stiles, I just talked with Derek. There's gonna be a pack meeting tonight. I know we're not part of his pack but Allison-

"Oh, my God!" Stiles snapped and threw the phone on the table. He stood up and walked into the hall to slide on his shoes, grabbed his red hoodie and pulled it on almost too harshly before he stormed out of the house.

"Stupid werewolves." He growled as he jumped into his jeep.

He needed to calm down a bit. There was no way he would be meeting anyone, not after they ignored his existence for over two weeks. Not after he sent them all countless messages. Not after he finally gave up and made peace with the fact that they didn't need him; that they never needed him.

He was human.

He was breakable.

He was of no use.

The only thing waiting for him in Beacon Hills was – well – nothing. He had practically nothing but his dad here. And his dad could use a break from him.

Stiles squeezed the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He drove down the streets of Beacon Hills hardly keeping to the speed limit. He drove in the opposite direction of the Hale property - opposite direction of everything and everyone who all of a sudden had the marvelous idea of actually including him into anything.

"Fuck!" he hissed and hit his fist against the wheel. He took a sharp turn and got out of town. He shifted gears and floored it, speeding down the road much faster than was healthy.



You're gonna miss me by my hair,
You're gonna miss me everywhere, oh,
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone.


It was almost 8 PM when Stiles finally parked in front of his house. His dad would be home in half an hour. He barely managed to calm himself enough as not to upset his dad. He took a deep breath, turned off the engine of his car and got out. He walked into the house and turned on the light. He stopped at the entrance into the living room, looked at the tea table and huffed with a smirk on his face. His phone was still there.

"Right where I left you," he muttered sarcastically and walked over to pick it up. "With all those threats no one showed up." There were no more missed calls or texts.

"So much for that," he grunted, pocketed his phone and made his way up to his room. He pushed the door open and stopped in his tracks.

"Not how I left you." He growled when he saw that his window was open. The line of mountain ash on the windowpane wasn't disturbed and Stiles breathed a sigh of relief.

"Stiles? I'm home!" he turned on his heel and closed the door. He ran down the stairs and grinned at John. The older man returned his son's smile as he hung his jacket on the hanger.

"Hey, dad," Stiles said and pulled John into a hug.

"Hey, son. I ordered pizza on my way out of the station. It should be here any minute."

"Great!" Stiles cheered as they walked into the living room. John looked at his son's bags in the hall and sighed.

"You're all packed up and ready to go, I see." John spoke in a heavy tone and Stiles nodded.


"Scott came by the police station two hours ago," John said and took a seat on the couch while Stiles practically crashed in the armchair.

"Yeah? What did he want?" John raised an eyebrow at Stiles, but answered him never the less.

"He came over saying he called you a hundred times and sent you texts, but that you didn't answer them. He also said that he came by our house and that your car was gone." Stiles shrugged.

"I was bored so I went for a ride. I'm leaving tomorrow so I thought I'd say goodbye to good ol' Beacon Hills." Stiles fibbed as he played with the seams of his left sleeve, and John hummed doubtfully.

"I was under the impression that Scott thought something bad happened to you."

Stiles chuckled morosely and rolled his eyes. "Please, dad. He just remembered that there were other people in the world other than his precious Allison. I mean she's a really good girl, and I admit that she's cute, but Scott's been thinking more with his dick than his head ever since she came to town."

"Stiles." John said exasperatedly and his son grinned at him. The doorbell rang and John stood up. "That must be our pizza." In that moment Stiles' phone signaled an incoming call and he picked it up with a raised eyebrow.

"Derek?" he muttered in confusion, Derek never called unless the world was ending. Stiles hesitated and watched his phone buzz in his hands and rejected the call. He threw the phone on the table and stood up when his dad passed through the living room on his way to the dining room.

"Two pizzas with double everything!" he said and Stiles grinned. He followed after his dad, leaving his phone in the living room. This was his last night here in Beacon Hills and he wouldn't spend it worrying about people who worried about him only when they needed him.


He would spend it with the only person who truly cared. The teen smiled at his dad as he placed his pizza in front of him and John returned it equally.

"Thank you, dad," Stiles said and his dad gave him a perplexed look.

"For what?"

"For everything," he said in a wavering tone, honey brown eyes glistening. "For everything."


You're gonna miss me when I'm gone.


Stiles enjoyed dinner and the better part of the evening with his dad; a welcomed change from running to and from the supernatural. That is until his phone decided to become the unnamed third party striking a wedge between them and their quiet evening.

"Son, it's been ringing for the past hour. Maybe you should answer it," John said and Stiles sneered.

"They just need me for some stupid research. They can do it themselves for all I care." He pressed out through his teeth making his dad frown in worry.

"Werewolf business?"

"Probably," Stiles said and shrugged. He stood up and picked up his and John's plates to carry them into the kitchen and growled in annoyance when his phone rang again.

"I swear to God I'm going to break it!" he snapped and heard his father snort.

He grabbed the phone not even checking who was calling.

"Would you stop! Can't you take a hint?" he shouted into the receiver, white-knuckled grip straining on the device.

"Stiles, I've been calling you for-"

Stiles ended the call with little to no care at all and tossed his phone on the couch then marched into the kitchen again. He paced the length of the kitchen, turned and bent over the counter to breathe then started pacing again. When he was in control of himself the teen started in on the dishes.

John was leaning on the kitchen door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, watching as Stiles started doing the dishes a bit too harshly. "I don't think those plates did anything to you," he commented airily.

John sighed and walked over to Stiles, reached over and turned off the water and slid his arm around his son's shoulders.

"Stiles, this is killing you. I can see that. Now, I'm not trying to make you stay. To be perfectly honest, I'm happy you're getting as far away from all this werewolf crap as possible, but as much as I hate this, Scott was your friend for years. You told me that you've saved Derek and he saved you many times. You care about them, no matter how much you don't want to."


"Don't," John interjected and Stiles sighed. "You're a good kid. I don't like the fact that you've lied to me for months. I don't like the fact that you've been in more dangerous situations than I have been during my time as an officer. But I can see that this is hurting you, Stiles. I know you heard no word from them since the last day of school and I know you're hurt. But Scott is your friend no matter how stupid he's been. At least – at least try to talk to him. Maybe it's important. Maybe he figured out what he did and he wants to apologize."

"And maybe some other supernatural bullshit came to town and he needs my researching skills." Stiles said and shook his head. "No, dad. I'm not answering that phone. I'm turning it off right now; we're going to continue with our Stilinski-men-bonding-time, and they can all fuck themselves for all I care," Stiles said and left the kitchen. John sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"He just had to inherit your stubbornness, Dia." He muttered and looked at the ceiling, thinking of his beloved wife. "What do I do, Claudia? What do I do?"


"Good night, dad! Remember we're getting up early! I'm making pancakes!" Stiles called out on his way to his room.

"Yeah, yeah!" John shouted from his room and Stiles snickered.

He entered his bedroom and grabbed his things as he moved for the bathroom. Running quickly through his nightly routine Stiles sighed as he caught his reflection in the mirror. The bruise on his face from Gerard's 'gentle' treatment was as good as gone and so was the cut on his lip.

He smirked and made his way back to his room. He opened and closed the door only to stop in his tracks when he found himself face to face with an enraged alpha werewolf.

"D-" Derek slammed him against the door with his hand over his mouth and his red eyes diving into his with a warning clear in them. Stiles glared at him and pushed against his chest.

"Be. Quiet." Derek hissed and Stiles' eyes crossed at the other man's face being so close but once they adjusted his glare intensified.

"Derek, let him go!" Derek turned when Scott hissed behind him, and Stiles managed to look at him over Derek's shoulder. Scott looked stressed; his eyes were wide and his dark brown hair ruffled as if he'd raked his hands through it passed the point of being stylish.

Stiles cleared his throat and straightened his clothes pointedly when Derek let go of him. He threw a warning glance at Stiles as if he was the boss of him, and the teen sneered at him.

"What the fuck are you two doing here?" he hissed at them. "How did you even get in?"

"We used a branch to break the line." Derek growled and Stiles glared at him.

"It was there for a reason!" he had to try hard to keep his voice down as not to attract John's attention.

The two werewolves shared a glance and Stiles blew out an aggravated breath and rubbed his head with his hands.

"What the hell do you want?" he passed beside the both of them on his way to his bed.

"We want to know why you didn't answer our calls and why you snapped at Lydia when she finally got you." Derek said and Scott continued his impression of wallpaper, watching them with anxious eyes.

Stiles snorted as he moved the clothes he prepared for tomorrow off of his bed onto his chair. "I thought you guys would get the message after I didn't answer you."

"Stiles, stop." Scott reached out but Stiles managed to avoid his hand. In that moment Scott looked around the room and frowned.

"Stiles, what is going on here?" Derek asked in that same growly tone, hazel eyes finally looking over his packed things and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said. "I'm leaving."

"But – but why?" Scott cried out hands flying into his hair and Stiles grimaced at the loudness.


His dad's voice made all three of them tense up. Before anyone could do anything the door opened and John walked in and his face went from worried to angry in a second. It was a sight to behold and if Stiles weren't pissed himself he'd either be scared of impressed. It was a close call between the two.

"Okay, what the hell is going on here?" John was trying to maintain a calm voice but it was clear he was failing.

"Sheriff-" Scott stepped forward with wild eyes pleading for understanding and placating hands.

"What the fuck are you two doing in my son's room! Stiles, I thought you said they couldn't pass over that line!" The Sheriff exclaimed, pointing to the broken mountain ash line at the window.

"Sheriff Stilinski-"

"No." John snapped at Scott and looked at Derek. "You two will get out of this house right now. I think you've done enough to my son, do I make myself clear?"

"Dad!" Stiles snapped and John looked at him. "I can handle this, please-"

"Like you've handled the fact that neither one of them called or texted you for over two weeks? Stiles, you're leaving tomorrow as it is!" Derek and Scott tensed up at that and looked at Stiles who rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.

"Yes, dad, I'm leaving. Earlier you told me that I should at least talk to them. Well, now they're here, and I'll have that damn talk, so please calm down and let me handle this." John frowned at him and looked at the two werewolves.

"You have half an hour before I come back with my gun. I know it won't kill you but at least it will hurt," he said, turned on his heel, and left the room, slamming the door closed behind himself.

Not a second later Stiles found himself slammed against a wall by Derek.

"You told him?" Derek growled and Stiles glared at him.

"Yes. I told him. What are you going to do? Bite me? You're forgetting that I'd be your beta then, Derek, and we don't want that, now do we?" Derek looked like he would shift any minute now, and Stiles sneered at him when Derek let go of him and started pacing the room.

"Stiles, why – why are you leaving?" Scott asked brokenly and Stiles looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you? Deaf?" he asked and Scott flinched back, "And since when do you two work together?" Stiles asked and looked at the two of them.

"That doesn't matter," Derek said and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Sure," he nodded and moved some more clothes. It wasn't any of his damned business so no skin off his nose. "What do you need me for then?"

"Didn't you read my texts?" Scott asked and Stiles snorted.

"No. I deleted them. All of them," he stressed the word and even added in a gesture with his hand to drive the point home.

"I found out where Gerard is," Scott said and a smile pulled on his lips, excitement coloring his eyes. "I went with the Argents-" he stopped abruptly when Stiles groaned dramatically.

"WOW, Scott! Bravo! So you went off with two hunters, ignoring your supposed best friend for two fucking weeks! And what now?" Stiles shouted, stepping into Scott's space and forcing the other teen to back up. Scott and Derek looked at him as though he'd suddenly grown a second head.

"I – I called you so we could all go hunt him down." Scott said, completely confused. "I thought – I thought we could catch him sooner if we worked together on this. When you didn't answer my calls I got worried. I thought he got to you somehow or that something else came-"

"And after two weeks you remembered that your friend was still very much human and that maybe - just maybe - he needed to be saved. Wow, Scott. Such a good friend you are." Stiles groused and Scott flinched away from him as if Stiles had actually lashed out. "You know what? I expected it from Derek and his bunch." Derek blinked at sudden mention of his name.

"They barely tolerate me on a good day. Erica hit me over the head with a piece of my own car!" Stiles picked up a pair of his shoes not apart of the packed pile and threw them in the closet with enough force to make Scott wince. He turned and pointed at his supposed friend, "But you, Scott? I thought we were friends; brothers even."

Scott whimpered then, eyes glassy. "Stiles…"

"The thing is -" Stiles plowed on, "I was kidnapped by Gerard. You knew I was taken. You saw the bruises on my face, but did you ask if I was alright? Did you ask if everything was okay? No; you ran after Allison."

"Stiles, I'm sorry!" Scott whispered brokenly. "I just – I had to make sure she's alright! I had to make sure he's gone!"

"And what about me!" Stiles roared and made an aborted move when it looked like he might hit Scott. "What about me, Scott? After everything I did to help you, after risking my life and sanity, you run after the girl that shot you! You ran after the girl that shot Derek! The girl who tried to kill the both of you!"

"She didn't-"

"She didn't what, Scott?" Stiles thundered, leaning forward and cupping a hand around his ear to listen but Scott whined high and canine-like.

Stiles shifted on his feet and looked to Derek who'd stepped back to allow him and Scott to have their talk of sorts. He directed his next words at the older male. "Whatever researching you need done you can do yourself. After all, you have Lydia now, as far as I can see. She's smart enough to do the research for you. I'm leaving tomorrow and if I have it my way, I'm never coming back."

"Okay, but Stiles-"

"Your half an hour is over." Stiles cut Scott off and turned his back on him. The teen wolf launched forward and grabbed his wrist. The move was quick. Stiles turned on his heel and Scott's head snapped to the side his hand dropping Stiles' wrist. Stiles shook his hand after dropping it from its extended position, the pain he must have felt not showing on his face.

Scott barely felt the hit but he raised his hand on impulse to hold his cheek.

"Goodbye, Scott." Stiles bit out and turned away once more. Scott looked to Derek with teary eyes and a whimper then disappeared out the window. Stiles moved his covers harshly and threw himself in his bed, completely ignoring Derek's quiet presence.

The alpha werewolf looked at Stiles' back and swallowed thickly.

"I think I told you to leave." Stiles muttered and Derek tensed up. He looked towards the window and then at Stiles again. Something was strange but he couldn't pinpoint it, and it wasn't the fact Stiles was leaving. It was the way Scott flinched away from him even though he was only human.

A very strong and quite terrifying human when he wanted to be, but human nevertheless.

Derek wasn't a fool. He knew Stiles wasn't someone to piss of, and it wasn't because of his dad. He knew that Stiles was the brains where Scott was the muscle and he knew they wouldn't have gotten this far if Stiles wasn't around. He knew that Stiles was more than just useful.

He knew he was strong.

One of the reasons he never offered him the bite.

He feared what Stiles would become if he ever became a werewolf. He was a force to be reckoned with now. He would be a straight out demon if he became a werewolf. Derek tried damn hard to push Stiles away. He tried damn hard to make him stay away from everything that was going on, because he saw.

He saw Stiles' darker side.

He saw it when he didn't hesitate to throw a Molotov at his Uncle, knowing it would probably kill him. Stiles was in no way weak, but Derek saw him as a teenager; a human teenager who had nothing to do fighting monsters that could easily kill him.

"Derek, what are you still doing here?" Stiles asked tiredly and Derek's thoughts came to a stop.

Stiles sighed and sat up in bed. He looked at Derek with weary eyes, and the alpha's mouth twisted again when something heavy settled in his chest.

"Why are you leaving?" Derek asked, blunt as always and Stiles frowned.

"I told you-"

"No. That's just an excuse. Why are you really leaving?" Derek pushed and Stiles' honey colored eyes focused on his.

"I'm leaving because I'm sick and tired of risking my life for a bunch of people who wouldn't hesitate to leave me behind." He spoke in a flat tone and Derek tensed up.

"You were never-"

"Don't try to sell me that shit, Hale." Stiles jumped in sharply and Derek grimaced. Stiles never called him by his surname and he knew it must have grated on Derek's already frayed nerves. It was either Derek or Sourwolf; never Hale. "Should I list all the times the two of us faced something together only for you to run off without a word? Should I mention Jackson despises me? That Lydia hardly acknowledges me? That Erica and Boyd look at me like I'm infected with some plague?"


"Come on, Hale." Stiles drawled while flapping a hand in the air dismissively. "You can hardly tolerate me. You threatened to bite my head off more times than I care to count. So why don't you do the both of us a favor and just leave."

Derek shook his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of that damned leather jacket. "That's not true." he said before he managed to think it through.

Stiles frowned at him. "What?"

'No backing out of this one.' Derek thought. "I do tolerate you," he ground out loud and then thought better of it once the words were out in the air. 'That didn't come out right."

Stiles raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him, prompting him to explain in a hurried manner.

"I – I kept pushing you away because I didn't want you to get involved into this more than you already were." Derek finally admitted and Stiles snorted.

"I got involved because of Scott. Fat load of good it did to me," he muttered and Derek snorted this time, making Stiles squinted suspiciously at him as though he was trying to read him. "What do you want, Derek? Why are you still here? We're not friends. We're barely acquaintances. Shouldn't you be with your pack teaching them how to survive?"

He looked Derek over again then asked with a sigh. "Why did you even come here?"

"I guess – I was worried." he said and looked in Stiles' eyes. The level of sarcasm and irony Derek found in them left an almost physical impact on him.

"Yeah, right." Stiles was about to turn on his side when all of a sudden Derek's hand was on his wrist and the alpha was kneeling on Stiles' bed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Derek pressed out through his teeth and Stiles glared at him because why the hell was he mad all of a sudden.

"You? Worried about me? Should I remind you of all the times you threatened-"

"I told you why I did that. I thought that if I frightened you enough you would choose to stay away from everything." Derek spat and Stiles' frown deepened. "Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, you're not that easy to scare off."

"Fortunately?" Stiles laughed bordering hysteria and Derek's glare intensified.

"Stiles, no one's denying that you've saved all of us a few times. Isaac and Erica would be dead if it weren't for you. And-" Derek's mouth snapped shut and Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"And?" he bit out, although there was a part of him that really wanted to know. 'What the fuck's wrong with me?' he thought when a spark of honest to heart interest and -dare he say hope - light up in the smallest corner of his heart, 'I was angry at him just a moment ago!'

"And – And you saved me." Derek continued looking into Stiles' eyes to relay the honesty in his words. "You're the only one who was never really afraid of me, the only one who constantly dares to defy me. You challenged me on every step I made and you keep doing that." He stressed out only to feel like biting his tongue off when he saw Stiles' eyes darken.

"Well that will stop tomorrow." Stiles swallowed difficultly and ripped his hand out of Derek's hold. "As a matter of fact, it will stop right now. We've had our talk. My dad is in front of that door listening in. I would bet he has his gun in hand-"

"He left five minutes ago." Derek jumped in and Stiles gulped when the werewolf leaned closer.


"You're still challenging me." Derek spoke as though the fact amazed him, and Stiles leaned back a little. Only then did he realize that Derek was frighteningly close to him.

"Derek, what are you doing?" Stiles murmured and swallowed over a lump that suddenly appeared in his throat.

"I don't know." Derek answered. His eyes were boring into Stiles' looking for something. Stiles didn't know what, but he was willing to bet neither did Derek.

"Derek, I think it's time for you to leave." Stiles blurted out in a raspy voice.

Derek's nose twitched and in the next moment his eyes widened. Not even a second later he was standing by the door, looking at Stiles as though he was seeing him for the first time.

"Derek?" Stiles called out warily. "What's wrong?" The alpha took a step back from him and gave him a peculiar look Stiles had never had directed at him before.

"Nothing." Derek denied quickly.

"Look, big guy. I know I'm leaving tomorrow, but I'd rather not have you on my conscience." The teen took a step forward only to frown in confusion when Derek shook his head.

"You're not leaving."

"I do believe that I am, Derek. My ticket's in my pocket and the bus leaves tomorrow at noon. I am leaving." Derek shook his head and took another step back.

"No," he concluded. "You're not." And in the next moment Derek was gone.

Stiles raised his hands and looked around in wonder. "Okay." He muttered and brushed his fingers through his hair. "What the fuck just happened?"


"You don't have to leave, you know?"

"Dad, we've been through this." They stopped on the parking lot of the bus station, and Stiles rubbed his thighs with his hands and took a deep breath.

He got out of the car and went to grab his bags while John locked it. He looked at Stiles when the seventeen year old walked over to him with his bags in hands and smiled sadly.

"I'm not happy about this, Stiles." John said and the teen huffed, shifting his weight as he glanced around.

"I know, dad. Neither am I. But I can't stay." John sighed, nodded and took one of the bags to help his son carry them.

"Yeah, I know," he said and they made their way towards the platforms. The moment they stepped around the corner they stopped in their tracks, their eyes wide open and mouths hanging.

"What the fuck?" John muttered as they looked at the huge crowd. "Hey!" John called over to a station officer and waved at him. The middle-aged man ran over to them, looking like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. "What is going on here?" John asked.

"I have no idea, Sheriff. Either I'm going insane or there's something really wrong going on." John looked at Stiles.

"Well, what happened?" Stiles asked.

"The tires on every single bus here were torn apart. Every time a bus arrives its tires are torn minutes after the passengers get out. We've checked our storage; same thing there. Not a single tire was left whole."

John and Stiles looked at each other.

"Do you think-"

"Oh my god." Stiles groaned and his bag fell out of his hand. He looked around as he brushed his fingers through his hair only to tense up.

Behind the crowd, at the very end of the station, was the whole pack plus Scott. Even from here Stiles could see Erica and Isaac smirking at him, Scott looking both ashamed and happy, Boyd looked like he would rather be on the bottom of a lake than there, Peter looked both aloof and smug while Derek's whole countenance was challenging.

"That's it." Stiles growled and stomped forward.

"Stiles!" John snapped when Stiles marched beside him in a quick stride. It soon turned into a run.

Derek frowned when he saw the enraged expression on Stiles' face. The human broke into a sprint and threw his body into a punch that caught Derek off guard. Instead of snarling about the hit Derek clamped a hand around Stiles' fist and swung him around a corner, out of public eye.

"What the fuck is wrong with all of you?!" Stiles roared. "What is this; fuck-with-Stiles-week!"

"We don't want you to leave, Stiles!" Scott cried out and the human rounded on him.

"Well, I don't want to stay!" Stiles' voice was shrill as he threw his hands into the air, and Scott skipped back to avoid the limbs.

"Stiles?" John ran around the corner and halted in his step when he saw his son facing off a pack of werewolves with a glare which could kill a man.

"Just because you did this doesn't mean I won't leave."

"If you're talking about your car-" Erica answered with a smirk. "I'll just run in front of you and pull out another piece of it. Maybe I'll take the engine this time." Stiles clenched his hands and something resembling a growl rumbled in his chest.

"You can't do this every day." Stiles pressed out through his teeth. "Nothing you do will make me stay here." He warned, turned on his heel and stomped away hissing under his breath.


"Dad, we're leaving!" Stiles snapped and John sighed as he shook his head.

"He's right. You can't keep doing that." He looked at the pack and all of them shifted their weight - except Peter. The oldest werewolf among them gave the good sheriff a slick smile and obvious once over.

"Don't try to pretend you're not happy we did this, Sheriff," he leered and John barely contained his perturbed expression.

"Erica, go," Derek said and the girl disappeared in a whirl of blonde curls and a smirk.

John sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "You can't stop the traffic between towns for long."

"Not for long." Derek countered. "Only long enough. We can't let him leave. No now." John took a step closer to Derek and looked in his eyes.

"I wasn't under the impression that you cared for my son, Hale."

"I don't know what I feel for him. I do know that I don't want him to leave," answered Derek rolling his shoulders.

"You do realize that you'll all just push him away if you continue doing this." John looked at the others and Peter took a step closer to him.

"Let's make a deal, Sheriff." John frowned at the werewolf. "We both know that we won't let Stiles leave, and that we'll do whatever is necessary - except causing him bodily harm - to stop him. If he refuses to cooperate, you will turn a blind eye on everything we'll do to stop Stiles from leaving for a week, and we'll make him stay."

"Two days." John bargained.

"Six." Derek countered and John peered at him.



John frowned thoughtfully and Derek licked his lips as he took a step closer to the Sheriff. "All I ask is for five days. Give us five days and Stiles will stay." John looked deep in Derek's eyes as though he was searching for something. Just as he seemed to find whatever he was looking for his phone rang and he answered it.

"Dad, stop threatening those idiots and let's get a move on." Everyone heard the annoyance and anger in Stiles' voice.

"I'm coming." John answered and hung up. He looked at Derek and pointed a finger at him.

"Five days. You have five days to find a good enough reason for Stiles to stay. Five days from this moment, if he still wants to leave, I'm personally driving him to his grandparents and then I'm arresting all of you for destruction of public property."

Derek nodded. "Five days." He agreed and John nodded before he turned on his heel and left.

"What's the plan, Derek?" Isaac asked and Derek hummed in thought for a few moments.

"We'll meet up with Erica. We need to think this through carefully," he said looking up when Erica sidled over and smirked at him.

"You're really into this, my dear nephew."

Derek gave a weary sigh, "Why are you even here?"

"I am wherever mischief and mayhem are to be done." Peter shrugged innocently.

Derek snorted with a shake of his head and started to walk away. "Let's go. We need to make a plan."


"So, what's the plan?" Erica asked, the first to cut the bullshit and just jump right in.

"You still didn't tell us why you called us here." Lydia spoke as she glared at Peter who was smiling at her from the other side of the room.

They were all seated around Derek's new apartment. Derek called Jackson and Lydia on their way from the station and now they were trying to decide how to handle this 'crisis.'

"Stiles is leaving," Derek said words carrying over the voices of the pack. Lydia looked at him wide-eyed.


"You would know that if you two weren't too busy screwing last night to answer your damn phone." Erica said and Lydia sneered at her. She looked at Scott and the teen winced.

"Is it true?" she snapped and he nodded.

"We managed to stop him today by cutting the tires of every single bus on the station. We made a deal with the Sheriff to turn a blind eye on everything we might do to stop him from leaving. The problem is we only have five days." Derek said.

"But why?" Lydia insisted. "Why is he leaving?"

"Because apparently we all suck as friends." Isaac said slinking down on the couch and outright looked at Scott.

"Care to explain?" Jackson drawled intentionally being obtuse.

"Can anyone here tell me when the last time was when they talked with Stiles?" Peter asked, taking the reins from Derek for a bit. Scott shifted guiltily and Derek bowed his head while he rubbed his neck. Isaac, Erica and Boyd exchanged a glance then shrugged; Lydia and Jackson looked at Peter like he was insane - mostly Jackson because he never spoke to Stiles willingly.

"Scott and I talked to him yesterday. Before that we last talked with him when we saved Jackson." Derek informed the group of teens and his uncle.

"I don't even remember." Erica admitted, Isaac and Boyd nodding with her in agreement on their parts as well.

Lydia swallowed and looked at the ground. "So, what? He sulking because we were all busy?" she asked in a small voice no one would usually associate with her.

"Busy with what exactly?" Derek asked. "I know Isaac, Erica, Boyd and I were busy with training, but that's not an excuse. Scott was too busy running with hunters to text him. Peter had no reason to talk to him. What about you, Lydia? I thought you two were becoming friends." Lydia looked like she couldn't decide whether to glare at Derek or look at the ground in shame. Jackson just looked constipated.

"So he's leaving because-"

"…because he saved all of our lives several times, and we didn't think him important enough to text him." Isaac interrupted Lydia and the others nodded.

"But – but then he believes we don't care. He might even start hating us if we try to stop him from leaving." Lydia cautioned the others.

"We can't just let him go!" Erica snapped at the strawberry-blonde.

"What do you suggest we do?" Lydia snapped. "If he's determined to leave he'll find a way. He can jump on a train, or a plane. He doesn't have to wait for you to give up on cutting the tires on the buses, or for Erica to give back whichever part of his car she stole."

"That's why we need a plan," Derek said. "We need to convince him that he has to stay. We need to convince him that we want him to stay."

"Why should he believe you?" everyone looked to Peter who looked comfortable if a bit bored with this crisis. "You hardly even acknowledged him. Each time you called he answered immediately. When he was the one calling you all conveniently forgot about him. You only noticed him when you needed him and he didn't answer your texts and calls. If Derek and Scott hadn't decided to pay him a visit last night he would be gone already." Peter let that sink in while he rearranged his limbs on the chair he occupied then he continued.

"The Sheriff can't guarantee us that Stiles will stay here for the next five days. Stiles is the most resourceful person we know and he's determined to leave. We need a plan and it needs to be a good one. Apologies won't work. He'll know we're just trying to stop him. What we need to do is convince him that things will change, not just for the next few days, but forever."

"He's right." Derek agreed before anyone could refute Peter's words because of hurt egos. "The Sheriff was right when he said that Stiles might start hating us if we continue doing what we did today. We need to find a way to convince him that he needs us just as much as we need him."

"We, Derek?" Isaac teased. "Is there something you're not telling us?" Everyone looked at the alpha and Derek's eyebrows did that angry wiggle that usually shut them up.

The pack watched as Derek seemed to debate with himself on a matter before he let loose a large gust of air. He crossed his arms over his chest, a stance that was equal parts defensive and authoritative.

"I noticed something strange about Stiles," he finally admitted- albeit hesitatingly - and everyone blankly stared at him.

"Strange how?" Scott asked, and Derek looked at him with a small frown.

"Didn't you notice?" Derek asked and the beta frowned, bowing his head with a thoughtful expression. "Scott, when Stiles snapped at you, you flinched away from him; and not because he was shouting." Scott looked at him, his mouth slightly open and eyebrows furrowed in a confusion.

"Explain." Peter intoned, suddenly very serious.

"It wasn't just Scott," Derek said and looked at his uncle. "We're both werewolves. We're both stronger than Stiles. But yesterday, when we confronted him and he snapped at Scott…" Derek stopped as though he was looking for the right words, "Scott, he - he looked as though he was showing submissiveness to his alpha." Derek stressed out and the others frowned in confusion.

"Now that you mention it." Scott murmured drawing the attention back to him. "I don't know what came over me, but when Stiles came at me I felt like – like I should crawl in a corner and show my neck to him," he said and looked at Derek with confusion written all over his face.

"If I think about it…" Erica muttered and looked at Isaac. "Remember when we went after Jackson at that rave? When we managed to trap him? Stiles stood in front of us. We are the werewolves. We were supposed to be the ones protecting him. And yet it seemed almost natural to stand behind him; let him take the lead."

"You're right," Isaac looked at Derek. "I didn't give it much thought then, but it felt like – like we were standing behind you." Derek frowned.

"Was there anything else?" Boyd inquired.

"Yes. His scent." Derek murmured thoughtfully and his eyes shadowed. "I never noticed it before. I even dare to say that it changed."

"His scent changed?" Peter leaned forward in interest. "What was it? I know he usually smells like chemicals, sandalwood and paper ink."

Derek nodded and studiously did not question why Peter knew of Stiles scent intimately. "Yes, but this time there was more. For once the scent of chemicals wasn't as strong."

"I remember him mention some two months ago that he stopped taking Adderall." Scott jumped in.

"That would explain the lack of the scent of chemicals." Peter commented. "Could it be that they were hiding his natural scent?" he looked at Derek and his nephew frowned at him.

"Why was he taking them either way?" Isaac questioned, kicking a leg up on the coffee table.

"ADHD." Scott chimed in quickly. "He's been taking Adderall for as long as I can remember. It was the only medication that helped balance him out. The other medications had bad side effects for him."

"Why would he stop taking his pills?" Jackson asked.

"Maybe he found out that he doesn't need them anymore," Erica said.

"You don't just stop needing pills for ADHD." Lydia admonished and Erica glared at her.

"Then how do you explain it?" she asked. "Stiles wasn't bitten, and nothing says his ADHD would disappear if he was-"

"Stiles was always special." Peter jumped in. He pursed his lips, sniffing haughtily at the blatant staring. "What? Don't tell me that not one of you noticed." He wrinkled his nose at them.

"Notice what?" Jackson asked.

"You mean-"

"Derek, he threw a Molotov on me without hesitation. Even Jackson hesitated and he thinks he's all high and mighty. He directly rejected the bite from me even though he was in a life threatening situation. He faced a kanima and stood in front of two werewolves without a second thought. He defied a codeless hunter. He ran his car into Jackson, and countless other things." Peter counted on his fingers before he looked at Derek. "He challenges you, every chance he gets. Now, what does that say to you?" he finished and tilted his head to the side, squinting at them with a small smirk on his lips.

Derek frowned in thought while the betas stared at them in confusion.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Peter smirked and clasped his hands behind his back. "His spark is strong enough to manipulate mountain ash."

"His spark?" Lydia asked in confusion.

"Yes. It's something very few humans have. It helps them manipulate natural things to their will. To have the spark, means to have power. Think of it as him being a Jedi." Everyone raised an eyebrow at him.

"A Jedi?" Erica muttered to Boyd in distaste and Peter sighed in a long-suffering way.

"What do they teach you kids these days?" he asked heavenward and rubbed his forehead with his left hand.

"So what does that mean?" Derek asked. "Yes, Stiles is strong. It's one of the reasons I didn't offer him the bite. He's stronger than any of us."

"Yes, Derek. He's strong." Peter rolled his eyes. "But what does that tell you?" Derek growled at him.

"It tells me that maybe you should stop speaking in riddles and just tell us!" Derek bit out and Peter rolled his eyes.

"He's an alpha." Scott whispered before Peter could answer Derek, and everyone looked at him. His eyes were wide and his face pale, and looked up at Peter as he gulped. "Deaton once told me that there are people who are natural born leaders. Stiles is an alpha."

"Close." Scott frowned while Peter looked at Derek who sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"He's an alpha mate." Derek concluded and Peter chuckled.

"Correct. You remember Talia?" Derek licked his lips and bowed his head.

"Who's Talia?" Isaac asked.

"My mother,." Derek said. "She was my father's mate." He looked at Peter at that and the man nodded.

"So what?" Erica asked testily, not understanding just what was happening. "Stiles is an alpha mate? What does that mean?"

"It means that next to the alpha he is the most powerful member of the pack, in some cases even more powerful than the alpha, because the alpha mate is the only one who can calm an alpha."

"So he's Derek's mate?!" Scott exclaimed and Derek's face grew ashen.

"But they can hardly stand each other!" Isaac exclaimed.

"Opposites attract." Peter shrugged, uncaring. "Besides, it doesn't necessarily mean he's Derek's mate. It just means he has all the characteristics of an alpha mate." Derek growled at him and Peter smirked.

"So if some alpha were to meet Stiles..." Lydia wondered. "He could claim him for his own?"

"I knew you were smart." Peter teased dryly and Lydia glared at him. Everyone looked at Derek when he growled again and Peter chuckled at him. "I think someone's not happy with that though."

"Of course we're not happy with that!" Erica cried out, her brown eyes flashing beta-gold in distress. "Stiles is ours!"

"Well you didn't exactly try to keep him, did you?" Peter quipped.

"We didn't know!" Isaac looked at Derek with desperation.

"Exactly!" Peter snapped then. "You've ignored him all this time and now that he's packed up and ready to leave all of a sudden you care. Let me tell you, if it were me I would have left a long time ago."

"That just means we have to convince him that we've changed," Derek said and his eyes met Peter's.

"You think five days will be enough? You've ignored him and put him down for almost a year. You think he'll believe that you've changed over night? It would be a miracle if he even let you close enough to talk, let alone spend enough time with him to convince him things would be different from now on. Even if you went over there and apologized on your knees, he has every right to smack every single one of you over the head with a mountain ash bat."

"What about you?!" Scott turned on him, shooting up from his seat on the arm of the couch.

Peter snorted and tapped his fingers on his thigh idly, "Excuse me, but I have very little to do with him. He knows what I did just as much as I do, and he never even tried to contact me. I'm not the one who should be trying to keep him here."

"So what, we should just give up?!" Scott cried out.

"No." Derek bit out and his eyes flashed red. "We'll find a way. We need to prove to him that things will change. We need to make him believe that we need him, and that he needs us."

"But do we need him?" Jackson asked and everyone looked at him incredulously. "I mean he's human. Okay, he's not exactly useless, but Lydia's better at research than he is and she has this spark as well. The way I see it, we don't exactly need two researchers."

"Stiles is better than Lydia." Isaac insisted and Jackson growled at him while Lydia raised an eyebrow at him but Isaac wouldn't be bullied into changing his opinion. "He's better than all of us in a lot of things."

"Oh yeah? Name one." Jackson challenged.

"Well for once he's better than you in almost everything." Scott growled.

"Not at lacrosse, he isn't." Jackson snorted and crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk on his face.

"If you didn't notice, Jackson, the only reason Stiles never made it first line was because of his ADHD." Scott glared at Jackson. "He's faster and smarter than you'll ever be. Should I remind you that if he didn't have problems concentrating, he would be at the top of our class?"

"He's right," Lydia said and Jackson looked at her with a frown. "Stiles' only problem is his lack of concentration."

"He's a quick thinker and doesn't hesitate to do what needs to be done." Peter commented. "Not to mention he's a natural born leader. You're good Lydia, but you don't have what he has."

"And what would that be?" Jackson pressed out angrily.


Everyone looked at Lydia when she spoke up. She raised her head and looked at Peter. "I can make people do what I want them to do, but Stiles doesn't have to force anyone into anything."

"All he has to do is ask." Scott finished in confused wonder.

"We need to find a way to keep him here." Derek murmured and looked at everyone. "This is where he belongs."

"That's easier said than done." Boyd sighed wearily.

"We'll talk to him," Erica said and looked around with wide hopeful eyes. "He'll listen to us, he always listened before. He'll listen now."

"Maybe it's time we changed things," Lydia said.

"We are changing things!" Erica snapped.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Lydia answered. "I meant that maybe instead of him listening to us, we should listen to him."

"But – But we listened!" cried Scott.

"Did you?" he looked at Peter when the older werewolf countered him, "Did you listen to him, Scott?"

"He told you he found Matt suspicious," Isaac said. "You didn't listen to him. You were too taken by Allison to pay him any attention. Maybe you listened to him before you met her; before you became a werewolf. Maybe if you did listen to him, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

"We thought he was your pack." Boyd accused and Scott winced.

"I know I failed him." Scott whispered. "I know I need to fix this. But I'm not the only one." He looked at Derek and the alpha frowned at him. "We're all to blame."

"In case you missed it." Derek interrupted. "We thought he was your pack-mate. We thought you'd be there to protect him. We thought you'd be there to watch over him! I admit that I was pushing him away every chance I had. I thought I was doing the right thing by trying to keep him as far away from this as possible. You were the reason he got involved in everything!"

"So what? I'm the only one to blame?" Scott yelled incredulously.

"There's no sense blaming one another!" Lydia shouted back. Derek and Scott looked away from each other. "Stiles is leaving! He's already packed up and ready to go! What we need to do now is find a way to stop him, and we won't achieve anything by stopping buses and trains and planes!"

"Well then what do you suggest, oh wise one?!" Erica shouted at Lydia.

"I already told you, didn't I? We need to listen!" Lydia stressed out and the others frowned.

"How do we listen if he doesn't want to talk to us?" Isaac pointed out the obvious elephant in the room.

"We make him." Everyone looked at Derek and he met their eyes from under his messy fringe.

"He'll be angry." Peter commented drolly, scratching at his eyebrow.

"Let him." Derek nodded. "I'm under the impression that when he's angry he says more than he does when he's calm."

"He may try to fight us." Erica smirked flipping a few locks of blonde hair over her shoulder.

Scott winced. "Even though he's human he does pack a punch," he admitted with a grumble and rubbed his cheek. "I couldn't believe it actually hurt when he hit me yesterday."

"We'll heal." Derek said matter-of-factly and raised his head. "We have five days. We need to make sure we spend every moment with him, from morning till nightfall. He'll try to push us away. We need to be persistent."

"What if it won't work?" Isaac asked looking just this side of uneasy.

"Push him to talk to you." Peter grinned looking every bit the wolf he was. "Be annoying. Piss him off. Then once he's done, show him you listened. Show him you care."

"He listened to us." Derek added almost comfortingly. "It's time we listened to him. We have 5 days." He looked around and his eyes settled on Lydia and Jackson. "I don't know about you two, and honestly we don't need people in the pack who'll try to work alone all the time. This is a pack. We work together. Everything will need to change, not just our relationship with Stiles."

"A lone wolf never survives for long," Lydia said and Jackson looked at her.

"I only need you," he muttered, utterly petulant and Lydia sucked her teeth.

"You never needed me, Jackson. Not for real. You needed acceptance and affirmation. Not me." Lydia looked at Derek. "I'm in," she stated and Derek nodded before his eyes met Jackson's.

"Me too." Jackson said grudgingly and Derek wasn't about to call him out. They needed numbers not division of the pack.

"Alright." Derek called loudly to draw all side conversations to a close. "This is what we'll do..."


Hope you liked it!

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