Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or the characters.

Summary: There is a bittersweet stillness that settles over Beacon Hills after Derek slays the Alpha and Scott now has a silent treaty with the Argents. It's a week after that stressful night and no one has seen heads or tails of Derek since. Stiles can't help but fidget when his thoughts come across the new Alpha. He knows it's dangerous but something inside is pulling Stiles towards the tragic Hale property. He blames it on reckless curiosity now that things are "boring" again.

Pairings: Derek/Stiles, Scott/Allison, Jackson/Lydia, FRIENDSHIP! Danny/Stiles


AN: I put off watching the last episode of Teen Wolf for weeks but just last night I watched the hell out of that episode and then this plot kept poking at me. I'm not a hyperventilating fan of this show so facts may be twisted and thrown out the window all together but I'll do my best to keep to them and research what I don't remember. This IS a SLASH so beware and secretly enjoy! You know who you are! Also in this story I made Lydia come back to the living instead of staying bed ridden and comatose!

The Demon I Cling To


Stiles watched in slight disgust as his best friend threw a discreet note onto Allison's desk. They've been passing that same folded paper back and forth for half the class already and it didn't look like the two would quit until the end. Even though the love birds sat in the back, it didn't take binoculars to see that they weren't paying attention to the lecture taking place by the black board. Between Scott's shit eating grins and Allison's constant turning to look at him with goo goo eyes, they were quite transparent. But since it was Friday even the teachers were lax in their discipline.

Stiles' facial muscle developed a subconscious twitch as he noticed Scott began to twirl a lock of Allison's brunette hair around his finger. Truly a nauseating thing to witness.

Looking back at his notebook and surveying the half assed attempt at taking notes, Stiles held back a sigh that would've encompassed all the forlornness he felt growing inside him. Now that his best friend had his somewhat happy ending, the need for Stiles had grown small and with that their friendship was on the back burner. Unlike Scott the Sherriff's son didn't have a girl friend to possess his every waking moment nor did he have other close friends. It made Stiles long for Scott to need him again. To help save the day. Not that Stiles was praying for a new disaster to befall his friend or anything. He just wanted to be important to someone once more. Before Allison came, Scott was always by Stiles' side and vice versa. It was like Stiles was having withdrawal symptoms. But wouldn't anyone feel lonely if their only best friend in the world was occupied by love all the time?

But it wasn't entirely Scott's fault that the werewolf didn't notice the chasm he was unintentionally creating between the two of them. It was partially Stiles' fault as well. He could easily bring up that they don't spend enough time together anymore and maybe fix this whole lonesome feeling with one long discussion. But there was a part of Stiles that felt like perhaps he would be asking too much. Perhaps this is what's supposed to happen at this age.

Maybe hanging out with your best guy friend all the time was for middle schoolers. He didn't want to seem like a nag. It didn't help that his brain brought up the fact that the two only spoke during school hours now, maybe a few texts to make sure everything was alright on the werewolf/Argent front.

Stiles thought about trying to make some new friends and immediately thought of Lydia. His heart slightly ached when he brought his eyes over to her side of the classroom. Her blood orange hair was perfectly styled and make up done up professionally. She looked amazing for someone who was mauled just last Friday. Of course she had to take it slow and only started to attend school yesterday but she was back. And by back Stiles meant really back. She wasn't the slightly decent girl he had taken to the formal dance anymore. No. That was like the eye of a hurricane—deceptively peaceful and tranquil. Lydia was her old self now. Stiles had confirmed it when he had boldly welcomed her back to school. Her light brown eyes looked confused when he talked to her; her body leaning away from him in obvious discomfort of his presence.

"Who are you again?" She tilted her head but didn't wait for a reply as she limped passed him in her fashionable flats.

After that, Stiles didn't even bother. Despite him practically saving her life and being nice to her all those years Lydia Martin's friendship was out of the question.

Then his thoughts went to Jackson Whittemore. The guy seemed off his rocker these days. He was still the most popular guy at school but Jackson had a haunted look in his eyes now when he thought people weren't looking. Stiles chalked it up to aftershock from what took place the night Peter was killed. The Co-captain of the lacrosse team was jumpy and lacked the ferocity he usually held towards others he felt were insignificant.

That Monday when they all returned to school Stiles did the humane thing and asked the boy if he was okay. That day Jackson looked as if he would keel over, all pale and sweaty with dark spots under his eyes from lack of sleep. And first thing in the morning that wasn't normal. But Stiles' well meaning concern backfired.

"Do I look like I need you checking up on me? Stay out of my way Stilinski!" With a weak but familiar shoulder brush that usually left Stiles fighting to remain on his feet, the jock left without one single glance back.

Jackson was out of the question as well. But somewhere deep inside of Stiles a strange content feeling washed over him when he noticed Lydia and Jackson were back together. In more ways than one the two deserved each other. He felt pity for them both for some strange reason.

The bell rung loudly, causing Stiles to snap out of his inner thoughts and listen as the thundering of teens with weekend plans gathered their belongings and headed out of their last class for the week. Stiles moved more slowly since he was in fact a teen without weekend plans. This time Stiles allowed himself to sigh.

"What's up dude? You look really down." Stiles hadn't even moved from his seated position yet so he had to look up at Scott who gave him a curious glance.

Stiles finally stood up and wasn't surprised to see Allison standing there, waiting for her boyfriend.

"Pft. I'm fine!" Shit.

Scott raised an amused eyebrow and Stiles knew why. Lying to a werewolf was a bitch.

Stiles dropped the fake smile and dropped his eyes to his books on the desk, picking them up.

"Just go have fun with Allison, Scott. We'll talk later." Stiles took up his book bag and exited the classroom, not even bothering to stop at his locker to drop off unnecessary text books. The jeep was waiting to take him home. His boring, uneventful home for two whole days and then the cycle of life would repeat itself.

Stiles slammed the driver's side door closed after getting in, turning up the music on the radio to drown out his self pitying act.

The drive home was barely memorable. It was like he was on autopilot and somehow he reached his driveway and put the jeep in park. His dad was still working and probably would be working until night fall. In some ways Stiles welcomed the empty house. He didn't have to be okay all the time in front of his dad. He didn't have to pretend so that his father didn't feel guilty for something that was beyond his control.

Stiles went straight to his room and didn't stop until he collapsed like a pile of bricks face first onto his bedding and groaned. It felt good but also torturous at the same time. How boring. Was homework and sitting his ass in front of the computer all he had to look forward to this weekend?

His back pocket beeped twice indicating a new text.

We r going bowling. Wanna come?

"And be a third wheel? I think not. Have fun." Stiles thumbed his message as he spoke it aloud, the phone held above his head since he still was lying down but now on his back. Throwing the phone on to the night stand next to his bed, Stiles sighed.

Maybe he should've said yes. But he could see himself in that situation totally regretting going, sitting as an odd number out and possibly in the company of both Lydia and Jackson which made it even more obvious he was single.

No, he made the right decision.

It didn't take long for Stiles to tire of his current activity of doing absolutely nothing before he got up and made his way to the window to look outside.

It was a nice day. The sun wasn't being smothered by clouds and the sky was amazingly blue. In other words, a great day to be out doing something. Stile opened up the window and poked his head out, looking at his roof which a certain werewolf used to frequently trek upon.


Stiles let an indescribable feeling wash over him at the thought of Derek Hale. The newly upgraded alpha werewolf hasn't made contact with Scott or even Stiles since they successfully took down Peter. What was he doing out there in that dilapidated house all alone? Surely it must be boring. But considering it was indeed Derek Hale he was thinking about, the man didn't look like one who actually partook in anything interesting. What does a guy like him find fun?

Stiles snorted. Working out for one. The werewolf was a bear underneath those nicely fitted shirts he wore. Derek did look like the reading type, so maybe he kept a secret stash of Twilight and other fantasy novels. Stiles laughed a little at the thought of someone as manly as Derek reading love stories. Derek also seemed like the type who would take up meditation. Stiles imagined with ease Derek sitting in the middle of the woods Indian style with his green eyes closed; a relaxed but focused look on his face. And for some reason, he was shirtless.

"I am so messed up." Stiles admitted to himself as he closed the window, his hand hovering over the lever as he thought of locking it. Should he? Any normal person would. But it made Stiles feel hollow as he pondered not having the werewolf dropping by in his room uninvited.

He left it unlocked and blamed it on being too lazy.

Taking out homework, Stiles decided to get it over with so he will have the rest of his weekend to do nothing. He was able to read one paragraph of the history assignment before his thoughts began to wander back to Derek. Was he even in Beacon Hills anymore? The man got what he came for. Revenge was accomplished so why would he bother to stay? But would he really leave without saying anything to Scott? Even Stiles felt as though the werewolf owed him at least that much courtesy since they were somewhat allies.

Did the tragic werewolf really leave his past for good this time? It was a possibility.

Shooting up out of his desk chair, Stiles knew what he was doing today and it had nothing to do with The Great Depression of 1929.


Drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel, Stiles felt his heart beat pick up in speed when he reached the familiar road leading to the Hale property. As soon as the idea struck him at home, Stiles felt possessed as he immediately got in his car and started to drive. Maybe he should've texted Scott, letting his friend know where he was going because Derek Hale was now a badass alpha. Despite Stiles suspecting the werewolf to have already vacated the premises, there was still a good chance a very powerful and uncontrollable creature of darkness was presiding there.

Stiles tried not to shiver at the thought of pissing off an even more potent Derek. But this felt like something Stiles needed to do. He had to see for himself if Derek was still in Beacon Hills. Slowing his jeep down to a crawl, Stiles procrastinated in parking once he reached the charred remains of the Hale house. A violent shiver did wrought its way down Stiles' spine. Part of him hoped that Derek was living in a better place than this. Once upon a time this house was gorgeous from studying the remains but now it was a shell that held painful memories.

Finally stopping the car completely, Stiles put it in park as his heart beat grew even faster. He was really doing this. God he must be desperate for something to do because he wasn't putting his jeep in reverse. Instead, he was getting out the jeep and shutting the door trying not to slam it shut.

It felt weird being there after that night. Seeing the newest damages inflicted on the already broken house in the daylight made it seem surreal. But Stiles always was able to adjust to the unusual better than others. But that night things had changed. Decisions were made. Derek became alpha, Scott was now a permanent werewolf, and the Argents were no longer a threat.

Stiles tried to breathe in deeply but his heart was making it difficult as he approached the porch, taking the stairs and stopping in front of the old wooden door.

Stiles decided to knock even though he was sure if Derek was still there that the incredible hearing he had would've alerted him to Stiles' presence. He heard the solid knocks echo through the cavity of the house. Moments later only the sound of nature greeted Stiles. He wanted to deny the slump in his shoulders and the dropping of his stomach. Was Derek really gone?

Surely the werewolf would menace Stiles in some way if he were here. It seemed like another pastime Derek would enjoy. Threaten Stiles. Manhandle Stiles. Insult Stiles…

Deciding to take liberties, the Sherriff's son turned the knob and pushed the door open, stepping inside.

Stiles looked around and took in all of the inner workings of the house. There was a partially blackened chandelier that still hung from the ceiling and beneath it was the charred wooden flooring which still had amazing strength in it. He looked at the walls which sported many varying sizes of holes in them from what could be fists and right in front of him were the stairs leading up to the second floor.

"…Derek? You here buddy?" He called out, wondering if he should just abandon this crazy little venture out of the boring he faced all week. There were shadows gathered all over the house in spots where the sunlight couldn't reach. It made Stiles nervous as he looked up at the top of the stairs where it grew darker.

Despite the uneasy feeling, the house felt empty. Stiles didn't think he could climb those stairs anyway.

Walking out of the front door Stiles went down the porch stairs but didn't return to his car. Instead he walked to the right side of the house, eyes growing wide at the sight of Derek's black Camero. The black paint was oddly dusted over with dry dirt and gathered on the hood were leaves which indicated the car hadn't been tended to or used for a while.

That meant Derek was still here right? Stiles' hope soared unexpectedly at the new found evidence of the werewolf's presence. But where was he? He wasn't in the house but he's not far enough away that he needed a car to get there…

"Underground maybe?" Stiles remembered Scott recapping how he was able to find the captured Derek. It was quite amazing that the Hales had built an underground cellar. Now to go about finding it.

It took thirty minutes of persistent searching to find the heavy door, but not once did the teen feel deterred in his efforts. Looking at the secluded door in triumph, Stiles felt accomplished. It was well hidden under a large hill in the earth with tree roots and mangled leaves and dirt hanging down in front of it. Stiles had to use all his might to slide the metal door open, the loud grating sound surely to alert whoever may be lurking inside the shelter.

Wishing he had a flash light, Stiles walked inside, leaving the door wide open to let as much light in as possible.

Stiles let his hand graze the cement wall to his right as he walked, his eyes trying hard to adjust to the darkness before him.

"Derek?" He spoke uncertainly; hope still wiring through his veins as well as rushing blood from his accelerated heart beat.

There was a faint growl, the sound made Stiles stop his progression forward. His breath caught from surprise and his eyes were wide in slight fear.

"Derek, please say something. Y-you're freaking me out!" Stiles called into the dark passage.

There was a louder growl that resounded through the narrow hall and a light tapping of feet against the cement floor. It was getting closer. Stiles' heart was hammering now fighting to break out and run away unlike Stiles who stayed put; hand clutching the wall rigidly as he continued to peer into the black.

Stiles finally felt his feet again as he stumbled back at the eyes now glowing on him were blood red. The pattering of bare feet stopped and came no closer, but the eyes stilled burned through the darkness.

"Leave." It was more of a growl than a human voice. But Stiles heard the familiar disdain in that one word that only one Derek Hale could muster.

For the first time in a while, Stiles sported a real smile.

"No." Stiles replied back just as shortly, making sure to sound obstinate.

"Leave or I will kill you! Do you not get how dangerous it is for you to be here? Go!"

Stiles jumped as the foundation shook when something hard impacted it. This was Derek's attempt at scaring Stiles off, he knew. And man was it on the verge of working. Those ruby eyes were more intimidating than the ice blue that Stiles was surprised he was now in favor of.

"You know, you are like that kid who cried wolf too many times. I don't believe you'll hurt me. You're not that kind of…um werewolf or person. Were-person!" Stiles failed at eloquence.

There was an irritated and exasperated growl that followed his words that was very much a Derek trademark when it came to talking to either Scott or Stiles.

"I'm not...I'll never be the same person I was before I slit my uncle's throat. Look at me." The red eyes blinked slowly, darkening the passage for a split second before opening again. If it weren't for those eyes being at the height of a man, Stiles would have thought a beast was right beyond his sight.

Stiles slowly started to back away into the light of day coming into the shelter through that one entry way.

"Come into the light, I can't see you like I know you can see me."

There was a low growl and an immediate thundering of feet. Before Stiles knew it, Derek Hale was right in front of his face. Snarling with fangs bared and eyes still glowing red even in the daylight, Derek looked…wild. Dirt was smeared all over his badly tattered clothes and face, his usually tamed stubble now thick and on the verge of being a beard, and his hair was covered in dirt and unkempt. Not to mention the guy was bare foot.

Breathing heavily from the shock of having an alpha werewolf hovering over him, Stiles had to force himself to stay put.

Derek indeed wasn't the same.


AN: Sorry for the mistakes. Review if you liked it!