It was night, the sun had just fell victim to the horizon, laying to rest for everyone else to as well. Stiles couldn't sleep. He felt lonely, like he did on many nights when he'd lay in bed, wishing someone was there with him, someone to keep him warm and stay with him. Nights like these sucked in his honest opinion. He would call Scott on occasion, asking him to just stay up a little longer and talk to him, especially just after his mother had passed.

When he didn't, he'd either be crying himself to sleep, or staying awake and setting a pillow on the ground next to his bedroom window to see the stars, thinking she was up there and twinkling down at him. He'd even go into their room and lay with his father, and he didn't mind when he had his back to him. His dad didn't like to cry in front of him, and he understood that. He didn't like calling Scott, though, it made him feel bad when he'd see that his best friend hadn't gotten enough sleep, seeing the dark circles under his eyes and hearing him yawning most of the day. He wasn't going to call tonight. His phone was sitting on the table next to his bed, and he wasn't going to touch it. With all this wolf stuff, a lonely and needy best friend was the last thing Scott needed.

He sighed and turned to lay on his stomach, shoving his head in the pillows and groaning out of annoyance. He wanted to sleep so badly, just to get some rest and feel better. He knew his Adderall was in the drawer of his desk, along with the other bottles he'd hidden around the house, but Derek had told him to lighten up on his drug habit, and he didn't want to make the werewolf angry... Well, more angry than usual. It was like Derek acted hateful toward him, but scolded him to make him better, and to keep him safe. He didn't know what to think of him... Even though he thought about him a lot. More than he should, really.

He was so curious about Derek. He wanted to know about werewolves, sure, but he also wanted to know what his life had been like; and where he learned everything and how old he was when he first shifted without control. How did it feel, and what did he do? Those were the questions Stiles wanted to ask, along with the simple 'What's your favorite food? How do you live in that house? Do you get cold at night? ...Do you want to sleep over at my house?' Okay, maybe that wasn't simple. He liked Derek more than he should have. He was supposed to be scared of him, and he was, he really was; but he kind of liked when Derek would force him up against walls and doors, leave bruises that he wouldn't want to cover up. He wanted to be something to Derek; someone to him. But how would he do that, and why would Derek want him, anyway? He huffed and rolled back to stare at the ceiling, jumping a bit when he heard a knock at his bedroom door.

"Yeah, Dad?" He watched as his door opened, his father's head poking in. He was glad it was his dad's night off, or he'd be worrying about him, and then he really wouldn't be sleeping.

"That stray's here again, and he ran right up here." Sheriff Stilinski said, looking down to where a familiar dog was pushing his way in the room. He gave a shrug and a smile to his son when he looked back up, then left the room, going back downstairs.

The big, black dog had been coming around for the past two weeks, visiting every so often, Stiles noticing he came around when he was feeling overly lonely, and it always made him feel better. Even if the dog couldn't talk back, Stiles would talk to him, get what he thought were knowing looks, and he'd feel better. The dog would always be gone by morning, but he didn't mind.

"Hey, Ben." Stiles smiled, patting the bed for the dog to come up next to him. He chuckled softly when the Ben took the invitation, laying down next to him and nuzzling into his side, head settling on the teen's stomach. The dog looked up at him expectantly.

"Yeah, okay," He set one arm behind his head to prop his head up, the other going down and petting Ben's head, "I'm glad you came around tonight. I have stuff to talk about. It's mostly about that Derek Hale guy I told you about last time."

The dog perked up, blue eyes looking at Stiles intently, ready to hear whatever he had to say. Stiles smiled, and started off, "Well, I've been thinking about him a lot lately, and I don't know what to do. He hates me, but it's like he wants me to be better. He told me not to pop Adderall all the time... Scott hasn't even said that to me before. And speaking of Scott, I don't want to call and bother him. I don't want to with my dad, either. He's finally getting into a routine without her."

The dog whined, nuzzling his head into Stiles, paw reaching up and gently scratching at his chest, and the teen could tell he was sensing how upset he was getting. He pet Ben's head again and took a deep breath, "Okay, let's stay focused on Derek; a subject filed under 'what the hell do I do'."

He felt the canine relax, and he continued to talk about Derek; telling him everything he'd thought about that night, all the questions he wanted to ask, his curiosity, and his feelings for the older teen coming out as well. He talked for a while, stroking the dark fur of Ben's, which was a name he'd given to the stray mut upon not knowing his real one. He wished he knew, though. It was like a name on the tip of his tongue and he just couldn't remember. He also talked about Scott, and how he wondered what shifting felt like. Was it painful, or was it like another person trying to take the television remote when your favorite shows are on? Stiles wanted to know, maybe adapt so he could say and do the right things so maybe he wouldn't almost be killed again. He sighed when his train of thought gave out, looking down at the patient dog, feeling better than before, a soft smile gracing his lips as Ben looked up at him.

"I can always talk to you. It's like you're not just a big dog." He said, a small growl escaping Ben before he shook his head slightly and cuddled into Stiles, just like he did when the teen would be getting tired.

"Time for bed? Really? How do you know I don't have more to talk about?" The teen asked, feeling the dog inch closer and settle down, paw being put over his eyes to make him close them. Stiles accepted it; he couldn't talk about Derek forever. He shifted a bit to get comfortable, and within a few minutes, he was drifting to sleep.

The dog waited until he knew Stiles was asleep, then carefully moved out from under the teen's arm, jumping down from the bed and making his way over to the door, nosing it open and going down the stairs, past a sleeping sheriff on the couch and up to the front door. He leaned up on his hind legs and got the door open, running out after and striding into the woods, stopping when he got into the trees, closing his eyes and feeling himself get taller, fur fading away.

Derek ran a hand through his hair and sighed at how cold the night air was now, picking up his jeans and slipping them on, redoing the button and zipper, along with his belt. He looked back up to the Stilinski household and thought about everything Stiles said, everything about him standing out. He didn't know the younger teen was that curious, and he wasn't aware that he was someone to "crush" on. He slipped on his shirt and grabbed his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder. He wanted to tell Stiles everything he wanted to know, and more, even. But "Ben" was someone who the teen trusted, and he didn't want to stop that just yet, for more than one reason.