Final Chapter: Thanks so much for reading, this will be the last chapter of Distance…I think as the show goes on I'll be writing a second part.

"I think we should stop this before we both get hurt," The words rushed off Derek's tongue the moment they faced each other outside the library. Stiles stared open-mouthed, he thought that this was what he wanted to hear, until he actually heard it. Also, was it him or did the ground suddenly disappear from beneath his feet?

"No," Stiles whispered.

Derek looked confused, "No?"

Shaking his head Stiles raised his voice and repeated himself, "No."

There was a long silence from Derek before spoke, "No?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Oh my God, is this what being in a cave feels like?"

Derek huffed out a bitter laugh, "You ran away Stiles. You ran away and then you turned off your phone. What did you expect me to think about that?"
Desperate to come up with a good excuse he shrugged, "I was just pulling a classic 'Stiles'. Ignoring my problems until they go away," but what he had failed to take into consideration was Derek's feelings about the matter.

"So that's what I am then, a problem?"

Alarmed, Stiles stood there wishing he had a better filter, "That's not what I meant. I'm the problem, I got scared."

Derek nodded his head as he tried to come up with the right words. Putting both hands on his hips, Derek breathed deeply. This was a struggle for him, and one that had quite honestly blindsided him. How could he have not seen Stiles coming?

"Do you think you're the only one that's scared?" Derek's voice was low and so obviously filled with whatever pain he had been going through on his own, "I'm scared too. Do you think I know how to handle this? If I were strong enough I would ignore you, let you finish high school and get on with your life. But all I can ever think about is how anxious I get when I don't know where you are or," Derek stopped himself suddenly, as if he were afraid of what other secrets he might spill.

Suddenly Stiles felt selfish, did he really think that he was the only one having a hard time dealing with all of this? This was a lot more than Stiles had expected from Derek Hale and he had no clue what to do.

In the steadiest voice he could muster, he asked "Can you take me home?" And with that question he turned and walked over to Derek's car, climbing into the passenger's seat he tried desperately to hold back the tears.

Stiles didn't see the slight nod of Derek's head or the way he rubbed at his face aggressively as if to rid himself of the previous emotional overload. He didn't want to see it because every part of Stiles wanted to fling himself at Derek and kiss the frown off his face and hold him and tell him that they could figure this out.

But the mildly-depressed and self-destructive part of Stiles would not let him and he couldn't help but think that he was not worth all this trouble.

So he sat silently in the car, picking at his nails. It was a good minute before Derek hopped into the car beside him, stony-faced and silent. Both men kept their eyes stubbornly fixed on the road ahead and Derek ignored the way his gut twisted when he realized how easily he drove the route to Stiles' house. He also tried to ignore the irritating sound of Stiles nervous little habit, that is until the scent of blood suddenly filled the car.

Derek's hand shot out and grabbed one of Stiles', "Stop that, you're bleeding."

Stiles nodded and whispered an "Okay," but did not attempt to take his hand out of Derek's grip. Instead, he slowly laced their fingers together. Stiles smiled when Derek's thumb began rubbing circles on the back of his hand.

About five minutes later, Derek was pulling up in front of Stiles' house, neither of them moved from their position.

There were still so many unspoken things between them and no one knew where to start.

Derek turned in his seat and Stiles could feel the Alpha's eyes boring a hole in the side of his face. He ignored both that and the way his hands were beginning to sweat from the prolonged contact with Derek, but he refused to be the first to let go. On the contrary, Stiles tightened his grip and prayed Derek would not pull away.

Derek's left hand suddenly reached out and grabbed hold of Stiles' chin, forcing the teen to face him.

They looked at each other and was almost unaware of the way they drifted together until their lips touched and all that was left was barely restrained groping and heavy breathing. Stiles was fumbling with his seatbelt while simultaneously trying to keep his lips on Derek's when a knock on the window startled them both.

Derek jerked back, hitting his head on the window in the process, before he stared past Stiles in horror.

"What, who is -," Stiles' sentence was cut short when he turned to get a look for himself. Staring at them were Sheriff Stilinski and Scott, both had unpleasant looks of shock on their faces that no doubt matched whatever thoughts they were having about the current situation.

No words were exchanged for about 13 seconds during which our blossoming couple had successfully managed to pry themselves apart. Derek glared at Scott and refused to look at the Sheriff while Stiles was busy trying to decipher his fathers' current expression.

Could that be called an accepting sort of pained look? Or more along the lines of disappointed.

"Out of the car," the Sheriff said sternly before turning his back and walking towards the house. Scott, who was holding several grocery bags in his arms, did not budge as Derek and Stiles sheepishly made their way out of the car.

"You know, Scott, it's considered impolite in most cultures to stare," Stiles mumbled as he brushed past his best friend.

"You never told me," Scott started speaking but shut his mouth suddenly. It was something to be left to discussion later on.

There was a clanging noise coming from the kitchen which the trio followed. Derek trailed a little behind the best friends and observed the way Scott comfortably made his way through the house. Stiles, on the other hand, was racking his brain trying to figure out how to deal with this. It seemed that he had chosen the most obvious way to come out to his father.

Upon entering the kitchen, Stiles' father turned around, greeting the three with a harsh look of displeasure. It seemed that the noise had been coming from his search for cups and mugs. Stiles glanced over to the counter top to see that the coffee was being made which meant that there were long conversations to be had which meant bad.

"Sit," was the only thing the Sheriff said. Stiles and Derek obeyed, taking seats as far away from one another at the kitchen table, Scott, however took up a kind of supportive position behind the Sheriff, arms crossed and face fixed in disapproval.

"Dad, you look upset," Stiles figured he may as well start, it felt like the best thing to do.

"Oh, do I? What the hell Stiles, you told me you two weren't speaking."

"Well, we spoke,"

"That was a lot more than speaking going on out there!" Scott interjected but stopped when the Sheriff fixed him with a particularly pointed look, "Sorry, I'll get the coffee."

The Sheriff took up his interrogation position, leaning against the counter, crossing of the arms, all very threating stuff.

He turned his attention to Derek, "So Mr. Hale, what exactly are your intentions for my son?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Intentions? What is this, a '90s sitcom?"

"Quiet, Stiles. So Derek?"

Until then, Derek's eyes had been very focused on the pattern of the table, "I have nothing but good…intentions for your son sir."

Scott was pouring coffee into the mugs the Sheriff had placed out earlier

"Good intentions? I know for a fact that you've hurt him before, Derek Hale. You don't exactly have a good reputation in this town."

"Dad, stop-,"

"No, Stiles you don't understand because you're distracted by whatever hormones are taking over your life right now."

"If you have a problem with me being gay, dad, just say it," Stiles said, his words quiet and heavy in the room.

His father's face took on a look of profound sadness, "You know that's not the problem I have here, Stiles. It's him I don't trust."

Derek chose this moment to speak up, for it seemed to him that the conversation was spinning away from them all. Soon, irreversible things would be said.

"I won't hurt him…anymore," his voice was soft and filled with regret. He knew that he was behind some of the pain in Stiles life recently, and he hated that.

"You better not. I'll be keeping an eye on you, Derek Hale."

At this, Stiles smiled a little and then turned his attention to his friend, "You can put the pot down now, Scott."

Scott jumped a little, he had been watching this whole exchange nervously while clutching the coffee pot tightly, "Huh? Oh right, sorry," he cleared his throat, "So is this all sorted then?"

"For now," the Sheriff grumbled. Stiles was all he had left ever since Claudia died, naturally he got worried.

Stiles noticed that Derek had barely moved for the entire conversation and despite the vaguely positive turn of events, he pitied how nervous his…guy-making-out-buddy, seemed. Honestly, did they really need to label what they were?

What Stiles failed to realize, however was that despite the momentary lack of speech Derek was a werewolf at the core, an Alpha no less, and he knew when to assert himself.

Reaching out, Derek grabbed one of Stiles' hands in his own and meeting the Sheriff's eyes said, "Nothing bad is going to happen to him, Mr. Stilinski." It was a bold promise, he knew that, but it was one that needed to be made. Plus if Stiles' father's expression was anything to go by he had said the right thing, this new chapter in Derek's life needed to start off the correct sort of way.

Stiles looked at Derek, too stunned to speak, he had never thought that the Alpha was one for such sweeping gestures of good will. Ignoring the immature giggling that was coming from Scott, the Sheriff eyed Derek a moment more before briskly walking over with an extended hand that Derek accepted with a grateful smile while Stiles remained fixed in his state of incredulity.

It was not until his father offered Derek coffee that he snapped out of it, "Okay," Stiles exclaimed, successfully speaking over the conversation that Scott had also managed to join, "As lovely as this all is, Derek has to go! He has …things to attend to."

"Actually," Derek began, but Stiles was already dragging him to the front door with their still-clasped hands. The Sheriff and Scott shook their heads but let them go.

"You're kicking me out?" Derek asked with the sort of face that would melt anyone's heart if they looked at it long enough.

But Stiles ignored the sorrow-filled eyes and answered, "Yes, I still need to talk to them. Plus I know I'll be seeing you tomorrow." He ended that sentence with a goofy grin, the kind he couldn't control in the presence of such a pleasant situation.

Derek smiled, "Yeah, you will," he whispered as he leaned into Stiles' space and planting the sweetest of kisses on his boyfriends lips. They stood like that for a while on the front porch, leaning against the door. sharing kisses and mumbling words of affection that only they knew the true meaning of.