Was Stiles taking the news well? Sure he was, it's not every day he found out he had an older brother. An older brother he's known for the past year and a half. An older brother he helped frame for murder. An older brother who…

Oh, who the hell was he kidding? He was freaking the hell out. Derek Hale was his brother. Derek freaking Hale was his freaking brother. He needed a drink, a big ol' swig of jack, something to help him magically become okay with this.

He wasn't mad at his dad or anything. He wasn't even mad a Derek. His father hadn't cheated on his mother, and Derek couldn't control how he was conceived. Hell, Stiles wasn't even mad. Mostly he was shocked, a little upset, but nothing he couldn't handle once he wrapped his head around being related to Derek.

He still couldn't believe Derek was his brother. What had this world come to where he can't even escape the freaking guy outside of pack meetings and the odd team up? He should have just stayed in Chicago. It may have been more chaotic, but at least Stiles knew what he was walking into… half the time. Here, he was just freaking the hell out.

He sat on the roof, legs dangling off the side, looking down at the ground. He wondered if Derek and his dad knew something was wrong. He did run out of the room pretty damn quickly, he may have locked his bedroom door behind him, and he may have been ignoring his dad as he tried to coax Stiles out of his room for the past twenty-five minutes. But he doubted they knew he wasn't taking the news well.

"I freaked out, too," a voice said and he jumped, whirling around to see Derek slowly walked towards him. Stiles should have known he'd use his stupid werewolf powers to get up here. Was this a normal brotherly relationship, being jealous of one brother because he had something the other brother secretly wanted? If so, Stiles figured they were off to a good start.

"I'm not freaking out," he lied, horribly, looked away from Derek, glaring at the ground again. "But if I were, I'd say that I can't believe you are my brother, and that the pack is going to flip when they find out. Oh, and that I'm a little surprised you admitted to freaking out."

"Anything else?" Derek asked taking a seat next to Stiles.

"That you better wear that damn t-shirt at least once," Stiles said quickly, swinging his legs. "And that you better not try to abuse your older brother powers because you already do that as an Alpha. Oh, and I am totally pissed that you told my… our Dad about werewolves when I've been begging to do that for the past few months."

"Are you done?" Derek gave him a questioning look, irritation and amusement flickering across his face.

"I'm not even close to being done," Stiles snapped getting to his feet. "I have tons more to say. Starting with who the hell your mother is and when she and my dad met. Oh and how did you find out exactly? Dad just saw the similarities. I mean, he's good but he's not that good. Did you guys even remotely talk about a blood test? Werewolf DNA or not, it's still similar to human DNA, and I just…"

"And we'll explain everything," Sheriff Stilinski said from the open window. He turned, noticing the older man leaning over the sill, the bedroom door wide open. He must have picked the damn lock. Stiles really needed to ask him how to do that. "Just come inside." He turned to Derek. "How the hell did you get up here?"

"The drain pipe," he answered with a shrug, getting to his feet.

"Of course you did," their dad retorted trying and failing to sound nonchalant. "Get in here both of you before one of you falls off the roof and breaks their neck."

"Highly unlikely," Derek and Stiles said together, sharing a quick look, and then started towards the window. As their dad stepped away from the window to let them inside, Stiles had a feeling this wasn't going to be so bad. At least now Derek had to acknowledge him completely at the pack meetings. He was his little brother.

Holy crap, he was someone's little brother. This was going to take some getting used to, and maybe some research. How did someone go about being a little brother? He'd better break out the Leave it to Beaver seasons. Did Netflix even have Leave it to Beaver? Was that even appropriate research material? Why was he thinking about television? He needed help.

The End…

Let me explain. I am taking down the sequel because I have no interest in continuing it. So, I took the beginning of it, fixed the POV, and just added it to the original. It gives the story an ending and lets me take the sequel down.

So, thanks for reading the last chapter, sorry for the inconvenience, and leave me a comment if you haven't read it... or if you can.

See ya

P.S. Thanks to everyone who reviewed this story or the sequel. You guys are awesome.