Fandom: Teen Wolf

Category: M/M

Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Summary: When John Stilinski drove past his house to make sure his son was where he was supposed to be, the last thing he expected was to see an all too familiar black Camaro parked on the street in front of his house.

When John Stilinski rushed through his son's bedroom door, he expected to find Derek Hale accosting Stiles. What he found was Stiles splayed on the bed—naked—ass in the air with Derek Hale's face buried...

Notes: This story evolved from this tumblr prompt: post/45043847269/someone-should-write-this
In which I begged someone else to write it for me, got no takers and therefore had to write it my damn self.

This is my first time posting a fic in a million years and my first foray into the Teen Wolf fandom. I can handle brutal honesty, but at least be constructive in your criticism. Thanks to my super awesome proofreader theonewho_ranwithwolves for doing such a great job of putting up with my crazy! Thanks to Jinxy who was kind enough to read this and tell me that it was post worthy!

This Is Gonna Hurt

When John Stilinski drove past his house to make sure his son was where he was supposed to be, the last thing he expected was to see an all too familiar black Camaro parked on the street in front of his house. John had let a lot of things slide where Stiles' behavior was concerned; the continual lying, breaking curfew, showing up at crime scenes. However, finding Derek Hale's car parked outside of his home at three o'clock in the morning, as if it belonged there, was the end of his patience.

John parked and exited the truck, being sure to close the door quietly; he didn't want to alert anyone to his presence just yet. Once he was inside the house inside the house John crept up the stairs slow and quiet. There were voices coming from Stiles' room but he couldn't make out what was being said. He maintained the unhurried pace to his son's bedroom until Stiles cried out Hale's name. Panic rose in his chest; he pulled his gun and ran the remaining distance to get to his son.

When John Stilinski rushed through his son's bedroom door, he expected to find Derek Hale accosting Stiles. What he found was Stiles splayed on the bed—naked—ass in the air with Derek Hale's face buried...

It only took a moment for the shock to pass and John was aiming his gun at the man who was currently defiling his underage son. "Get the hell away from my son." His voice was eerily calm, much calmer than he actually felt.

Derek jerked away from Stiles, spinning to face him and throwing his hands in the air once he saw the gun aimed at him.

"Dad!" Stiles squawked and flailed his way to the floor with a thump. He scrambled to his feet, pulling a sheet across the lower half of his body to hide his nudity, "Dad, put your gun away, it's not—"

"Not what it looks like?" John finished for him. His stance didn't falter and he stared hard at a mostly naked Derek, "What it looks like is a 22-year-old man engaging in a sexual act with my 16-year-old son." John responded, "What do you think it looks—" John took his eyes from Hale to look at Stiles and was shocked by what he saw, so much so he let out a small gasp and his gun arm wavered slightly.

Stiles was covered in bruises. His neck and collarbone were riddled with what he could only assume were hickeys; however, his arms, chest, ribs were covered in fresh and partially healed bruises. His face wasn't much better. There was a bruise on his cheek and a butterfly bandage on his forehead.

Feeling rage course through him John renewed his aim at Hale, "What the hell have you been doing to my boy?!"

"No Dad, stop! Derek didn't—it's not what it looks like." Stiles insisted.

"Stiles it looks like someone has been abusing you for weeks. You've accused him of murder more than once; why shouldn't I believe he did this to you?"

"Because Derek has been protecting me."

"Protecting you?!" he bit out, "Have you got anything to say for yourself Hale or do you plan to let my underage son defend your honor?"

"Maybe I could put some clothes on before we have this conversation, sir?" he said voice and face blank of any emotion.

John wanted to shoot him on principle.

"Dad please, let us get dressed and I swear I will explain everything. And I mean everything…including all of the stuff I've been lying to you about these last few months."

That caught John off guard. He didn't expect Stiles to admit he had been lying to him. He knows Stiles has been lying, and he knows that Stiles is aware that he knows he has been lying; however, neither of them had openly acknowledged it until now. John lowered his gun, but did not holster it, "Get dressed."

"Uh, maybe you could, um…"

"If you think I'm leaving you alone with him for even one minute you're out of your mind. Get dressed and then we'll go downstairs and have a talk."

Derek didn't hesitate to search out his clothes that were scattered on the floor and begin pulling them on. Stiles floundered briefly realizing that his dad was serious; he then pulled the sheet tighter around his waist before making his way to his dresser.

As he searched for a shirt for himself his fingers landed on a grey long-sleeved shirt. Stiles knew it would just add to whatever horror story was running through his dad's mind, but the shirt Derek had entered the house in was torn and covered with blood. This was the better option. "Derek," he called and tossed the shirt in his direction.

Derek caught it and then his eyes darted toward the sheriff. He was looking more dismayed with each passing second and Derek decided it was best to keep his eyes on what he was doing…which was putting on a shirt that his son had just given him…from his drawer. If he got out of this without a gunshot wound he would count himself lucky. As it was he knew things with Stiles would be coming to a very abrupt halt.

When they were both fully dressed, the sheriff hustled them out of the room in single file. Derek first followed closely by the sheriff, with Stiles in the rear. They went into the living room where Derek sat on the opposite end of the couch from Stiles while the sheriff sat across from them. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't drag you out of here in cuffs." He directed at Derek, but was Stiles who responded.

"It all started the night that you found me in the woods…"

First Stiles explained that werewolves exist with a physical demonstration from Derek to prove that he was in fact telling the truth. Once he was able to calm his father from the shock of seeing Derek turn into an actual werewolf, the man demanded to know the rest, "Because clearly him being a werewolf is the least of it!"

Stiles explained, in the most abridged version possible, the events starting from the night the alpha bit Scott up to tonight when he and Derek with help from Chris Argent, Alan Deaton—yes, the veterinarian—and Ms. Morell took down half of the alpha pack. The other half they beat into submission and sent running to spread the word that Beacon Hills was under the protection of the Hale Pack and the Argents.

"You mean to tell me you were actually crazy enough to fight against werewolves?!"

"Dad I—"

To Derek, "And you let him?!"

"It's impossible to stop him once he gets something in his head. I swear I did everything I could to protect him."

"You call that protecting him?" he asked motioning to Stiles' face.

"With all due respect Sheriff Stilinski, he's still alive."

The statement hit home, but before he could speak, Stiles interjected.

"Dad none of this was Derek's fault. He didn't kill his sister, the rogue alpha did." He explained, suddenly very happy they decided to keep the alpha's identity secret. "He came here to find her. He could have just left town and left us to deal with the alpha—left Scott to deal with being a newly turned werewolf all on his own. He's saved all of our lives more than once. Sure he's made some bad decisions, but he was doing the best he could with the hand he was dealt. So was I, Dad. Everything I did was to protect the people I love—you most of all."

John softened at that. "Well I appreciate that Stiles, but it's not your job to protect me. It's my job to protect you. And that includes from men who would pray on your innocence."

Derek noticeably winced at that.


"I know what you would say. You'll tell me that he didn't force you, that you wanted it, and that may very well be true but the fact still remains that the age of consent in the state of California is 18 and 18 you are not."

"Dad just hear me out!"

"No Stiles! Derek, thank you for keeping my boy alive, but I'll ask you to leave now and to stay away from him from here on out."

"What?!" Stiles exclaimed jumping to his feet.

"Don't come to him for research, don't involve him in any supernatural trouble; don't wave to him if you see him on the street."

"Dad please, you're being unreasonable."

"Am I Stiles? I walked in on you two… With what I witnessed, I am well within my rights to arrest him. Be happy I haven't put a bullet in him…yet!"


"Stiles it's okay," Derek stood, "Everything he's saying is right."

"What? Derek no! I love you." Stiles cried and threw himself at Derek.

Derek caressed his face lovingly, he wanted to kiss the tears from his eyes, but didn't risk it. A bullet would not kill him, but it would cause trouble for the sheriff—and him—and that would upset Stiles more than saying goodbye. "I know; I love you too." He said softly. "I'll wait for you." Derek tried relaying everything that he could not say with his eyes.

When they were alone, John held his hand up silencing any protestations his son was gearing up to make. "I don't even know what to start with. You've been lying to my face for months, you've been regularly putting your life in danger, you've aided and abetted in Lord knows how many crimes, including, but not limited to murder and sleeping with an older man who you've accused of multiple crimes—"

"I haven't slept with Derek!" he exclaimed.

"That's what you latched onto?!"

"Dad, I know what it looked like upstairs—"

"I don't even want to get into that conversation yet. Let's talk about all of the other stuff you've been up to, such as your foolish antics getting your best friend turned into a werewolf."

Stiles flinched as though he had taken a physical blow. It felt like he had. "Wow, Dad, let's not pull any punches."

John immediately felt guilty. "Stiles—"

"You think I don't regret it every day that I dragged Scott out into the woods that night? And as much as I don't want to be a werewolf I wish that it had been me the alpha bit. I ruined Scott's life that night, so you'll have to forgive me for wanting to do anything within my power to keep him safe."

"Stiles I…I didn't mean that."

"You did, but it's okay because you're right. I am the reason Scott and I have been caught up in this supernatural craziness. And Derek… Dad I know I haven't been honest with you recently, but you have to believe me when I say that Derek has only ever tried to do the right thing. He's made a lot of mistakes, but he's trying dad. And our relationship—"

"What relationship?! Stiles, you're a child!"

"Maybe in age, but not in experience—not emotionally."

"The law says you're a child. He's six years your senior. He may or may not be guilty of any crimes, but I know that boy isn't right here." he asserted motioning to his head. "Look at the life he's led and the things that have happened to him. He just lost his sister and was accused of her murder. There is no way he's capable of being in a healthy relationship with anyone let alone my son."

"I can't help but wonder if you would care if it was Lydia who was six years my senior."

John balked, "Hey now, Stiles, I know I didn't exactly believe you that night outside the club, but I don't care if you're gay; it doesn't change anything between us."

"That's good to know but it isn't what I meant. If I was with an older woman I'd be a stud and she'd be a cougar, but because Derek is an older man he's a predator and I'm prey."

"Stiles he's a werewolf, I'm pretty sure he is a predator!"

Stiles scoffed at that, "Trust me dad, a 16-year-old Lydia Martin is twice the predator Derek is, at least in the way you mean."

John didn't know how to respond to that.

"I'm not just in love with Derek Dad; there is so much more to it."

"I'm sure in your head you are in love, but in a few weeks or months you'll be in love with someone else."

"Are you hearing yourself? I was devoted to Lydia for like seven years! How I feel about Derek…Lydia who? This isn't going away Dad. I love and respect you, but I won't give him up."

"Oh you'll give him up or I'll put him in jail. I've let you get away with a lot these last few months because I thought it was a phase you would work your way through. Well no more! You're on house arrest until further notice. I'm taking the keys to your Jeep; I suggest you notify any and all acquaintances by the time I get home because then I'll be confiscating your phone and computer. Don't even think about leaving this house tonight."

"Dad you're being unreasonable!" Stiles argued.

"You have yet to see unreasonable. You'd better get yourself good and comfy Stiles because you're in for a long, boring summer. I'll be home this afternoon after I've had conversations with Argent and Deaton."

"Don't forget Mrs. McCall; she's in on it too." Stiles sniped but John didn't rise to the bait.

"Get to some rest because we're not done talking about this."

"We are so done talking about it!" Stiles grumbled at the closed door.

Stiles stomped his way up the stairs and felt his stomach flutter when he saw Derek sitting on his bed. "Derek!" he breathed in relief. Derek stood as Stiles moved toward him, wrapped his around his neck and pressed a heated kiss to his lips. "I'm so sorry about my dad."

"Stiles you don't have to apologize; he's only trying to protect you. I don't blame him; I'm not exactly a prized catch."

Stiles sighed. Derek was going all self-depreciating on him again. "I thought we talked about this Derek." He muttered and sat down on the bed.

When Derek had first confessed his feelings for Stiles—after the pool incident—his declaration had also come with an assortment of reasons why Stiles should turn him away. Stiles met Derek's admission with a clumsy, sloppy first kiss. He had been attracted to Derek since the first time they meet in the woods. He realized that he was developing feelings for him when Derek put himself between Stiles and Peter and made sure Stiles got out of the hospital unscathed. He acknowledged that his 'feels' had morphed into love when Derek turned his back on an unknown enemy, the kanima, in an attempt to push Stiles to safety. Stiles had never in his wildest imaginings thought that Derek would return his feelings.

After that first awful, awkward kiss, when Derek couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his beautiful face, Stiles assured him that his reasoning was fucked and that Stiles was lucky to have Derek's affections. Derek was beautiful, honorable and strong while Stiles was just a goofy kid who was too smart for his own good and talked too much.

It took some doing on Stiles' part but Derek eventually accepted that Stiles was sincerely interested in Derek as not only a hot piece of ass, but as a person; that he wanted a relationship. Then he sat Stiles down and explained about werewolves and mating.

Stiles was Derek's mate. The man in him was attracted to Stiles almost immediately. And the wolf in him decided that Stiles was an acceptable candidate for mate when, even after threatening to, Stiles did not let him die from the wolfsbane bullet. He had been willing to cut off Derek's arm to save him. The animal side of Derek had bonded with Stiles that night. If they moved into a romantic relationship, Stiles would have to acknowledge the bond for it to tie them to one another. Eventually, after things settled down and if Stiles was sure it was what he wanted, Derek would truly lay claim to him, cement the bond and mate them for life. The bond would be magical for both of them. Derek would love and desire only Stiles until one of them died and the same would be true for Stiles.

It was too much to ask of him so Derek promised to never do more than acknowledge the bond until Stiles was ready. Plus, at the time, they still had to deal with the kanima and he had yet to drop the bomb about the alpha pack. Stiles agreed to go slow until things settled in Beacon Hills but after that they would cement bond. Stiles already knew that Derek was it for him. He told Derek as much, but promised to humor him and give them time—give himself time. Either way they were going to be okay.

So when Derek suddenly confessed to contemplating leaving Beacon Hills, Stiles was gutted. "I should have never stayed." Derek said as he paced the room. "I was only supposed to find Laura and then go back to New York. And then…then it was about catching and killing the alpha to avenge Laura and return the Hale power to its rightful place. But then you…I couldn't stand the thought of being away from you so I stayed and…"

"You knew the alphas would come so you started biting teenagers to build yourself a pack."

It was more than that. Derek—all of the Hales were raised to be scholars so that they could avoid conflicts by using their heads instead of their claws. But for times that called for nothing less than teeth and claws, the Hales were raised as warriors. It was always known within the family hierarchy, that Laura was the best suited to take over as alpha, but they were all taught how to lead.

Being an alpha was more than red eyes and a full-bodied shift. The power was intoxicating and harder to control. The desire to build and expand their pack was pure instinct for an alpha. While Derek had been raised to be an alpha if necessary, his lessons had been cut very short thanks to Kate Argent. Laura hadn't received all of the lessons needed to be an alpha which was one of the reasons they had left Beacon Hills. They went to a sister pack in Oregon. It was the pack their mother had grown up in before meeting and mating with their father. The alpha there was family and more than happy to take them in, give them the stability of being with a pack during such a troubling time. They taught Laura how to control her powers and how to care for Derek and a pack as an alpha. It's where Derek should have gone the moment he inherited the alpha powers from Peter.

"And you could leave me behind just like that?"

"It wouldn't be easy! It will drive me crazy to leave you. Right now just the thought of it is making the wolf in me beg to lay you out on that bed and claim you right now."

"And the man?"

"The man wants to beg you to come with him."

"Are you—what?"

"I won't—can't—I shouldn't have said that." He ground out, raking his hand through his hair frustrated.

From the beginning Stiles had made it abundantly clear that his father was his number one priority with Scott coming in a close second. Asking him to leave would mean literally running away from home and leaving the two most important people in his life behind. Derek couldn't ask him to do that; wouldn't make him choose. But he needed to go. Being close to Stiles without being able to claim him; knowing that he returned Derek's feelings would drive Derek slowly insane. With a lot of space and time between them, Derek could (possibly) survive the separation with his sanity intact.

And he needed help with his powers. Having been born a werewolf and learning to control the shift from a young age was what kept him from going insane from the sheer power of the alpha. And if it hadn't been for Stiles, Argent, Deaton and Morell, Derek probably would have died at the hands of the alpha pack. He had much to learn and while Peter wasn't the same man who woke from a six-year coma and went on a killing spree, he also wasn't the man Derek had practically worshipped as a child. Derek didn't fully trust Peter and therefore couldn't learn from him. And he needed to learn. He was a terrible alpha; Stiles deserved better than him.

"Even if you don't ask, I will beg you to take me with you."

That brought Derek up short. He looked at his love in surprise and confusion. "You would? But your dad—Scott…"

"It's safe to assume that Scott has made it to the bottom of the list of people whose opinions count for anything in my life. Between the many times he ditched me for Allison or Isaac and the many times I nearly died because he couldn't be bothered to answer his phone, or how about when he betrayed the pack for Gerard—"

"Okay, Scott's not a factor in your decisions making process, I get it. What about your father? You've worked so hard to protect him and leaving—"

"I think it's about time I did something for myself."

"I don't understand."

"I've done everything to protect my dad, to keep him safe. I've given up so much for him and Scott and this whole damn town. Now I want something for me. Derek, I love you and the idea of you leaving is making me physically ill. Maybe you haven't officially claimed me, but I'm already yours and you're mine. I won't be parted from you and if that means running away because my dad can't see reason then so be it."

"Stiles this isn't a decision you can just make on the fly. I've been thinking about leaving since I became alpha."

"I get that. I suspect leaving isn't something you were just gonna do in the middle of the night. There are things you need to take care of first? Arrangements that need to be made?"

"Yes, I'll have to contact the pack in Oregon, arrange things with Peter and Argent to keep the territory safe until I'm ready to return…maybe a week."

"Okay so I have a week to sleep on it or to get my father to reconsider things. I'll think about it, really think about it, but you should know that from now until forever, my answer will always be you."

Derek stayed with Stiles wrapped in one another's arms. He didn't sleep; he was too wound up by Stiles' declaration. He knew it was probably the worst idea in history of bad ideas to take Stiles with him to Oregon, but at the moment he couldn't seem to make himself care. He had lost so much—everything. Why couldn't he have this? Why shouldn't he have Stiles?

Derek left the Stilinski household just as the sun was rising, not wanting to chance any of the neighbors seeing him. Stiles was in enough trouble already without adding Derek being seen sneaking out of his room to the list of his offences.

When Stiles woke it was nine o'clock. His father wasn't home yet, and if he had been serious about having conversations with Chris Argent and Dr. Deaton, he wouldn't be home until at least noon. The little bit of sleep he managed to get did nothing for him. He was mentally and physically exhausted, sore and completely wrung out. Stiles knew he was in for a fight with his father so he tried to refresh himself by taking a shower. After pulling on clean clothes, he headed for his desk. Stiles spent the better part of two hours clearing away any incriminating evidence and backing up the files that he thought were of import. He saved the files and the ever-growing bestiary to an external hard drive, which he kept hidden beneath the floorboards of his closet.

When the laptop was clear of everything except old homework, and porn just for shock value, Stiles removed the security code and cleared the call history and text messages from his cell phone. He then changed the voicemail message to state that due to his father being an unreasonable asshat, Stiles would be unavailable to take calls until further notice. He was pushing it, he knew, but he was pissed. He also didn't really think the message would be heard because the only person who called him was Derek, who already knew that his father was planning to confiscate his phone. Stiles suspected that Scott wouldn't even notice until he was already gone and he didn't have any other friends.

Once Stiles finished with his electronics, he pulled out a duffel bag and began packing minor essentials. The external hard drive went into the bag as well as a few of his favorite items of clothing—things his father wouldn't notice were missing. His plan was to give the bag to Derek later that night. Over the next few days, he would pack anything he thought he could not replace, but not enough of his belongings make his father suspicious. Anything that would tip his father off, like the framed photo of his mother that sat on his nightstand, Stiles would take the day he left with Derek.

When he had packed all he could think of into the duffle, he hid it beneath the floorboards of his closet. After that, Stiles was left with nothing to do. He was suddenly very antsy and walked around the house searching for things he would need to take with him to Oregon, making a mental list of what to pack in the next duffle and what had to wait until the day of to pack. Eventually Stiles settled on making lunch for himself and his father, knowing that the man would be exhausted and having likely binged on fast food. Though he was angry with him and felt that he was being obstinate, he still loved the man. When he left Stiles knew his father's diet and health would take a nosedive. He felt guilty for that, but it didn't change his mind about wanting to leave. Stiles loved Derek more than he thought could be possible. And he had been serious when he professed the need to do something for himself.

Stiles was the epitome of giving. He gave of himself unto a fault; a trait he inherited from his mother. She always gave to anyone who needed help no matter the cost to herself. Stiles could not do it anymore. He was unable to keep track of the number of times he had faced death in the last several months. And he knew that the number, whatever it currently was, would only increase. He was intimately involved with supernatural beings, and more often than not, they were at war. If he was destined to stare his death in the eyes on a weekly basis, he aspired to live—truly live. Stiles wanted to experience everything he could now, because later was promised to no one. He wanted Derek to experience everything with him. He deserved it; they both did.

When his father came home at half past noon, he looked dead on his feet. It was clear from his expression that he had not had pleasant conversations with Argent and Deaton. Stiles was just finishing up the chicken stir-fry when his father came into the kitchen and laid his gun belt on the counter. "I take it you didn't like what you heard from Mr. Argent and Dr. Deaton?"

"I honestly can't believe the number of people that know about the supernatural activity in this town while I was completely in the dark." He sighed.

"It wasn't done maliciously, Dad. I never told you because I wanted to keep you safe. And once you know about werewolves, you kinda get sucked into all of their wolfy shenanigans."

"Yeah well, I know now."

Stiles turned the stove off, "I'm not sorry you know," he began as he moved to the counter and began dishing the food onto plates, "We were going to tell you after we got rid of the alpha pack." Stiles turned to the sink where he filled the wok with water and left it to soak.

"You did tell me after defeating the alpha pack." John reminded.

Stiles brought their plates to the island counter where his father was seated and set them down, pushing one toward his father. "Yes, but I didn't plan for it to happen quite the way it did." He responded refusing to verbalize what his father had walked in on in Stiles' bedroom.

John gave his son a nod of understanding and thanks before turning to the refrigerator to get a bottle of beer. When he turned back to the counter, he observed that Stiles' phone had been discreetly placed on the counter beside his plate. He noticed it and made sure that Stiles knew he noticed it but did not make mention of it. They ate in silence—a first for them—until their food was gone, then Stiles cleared the dishes while John moved to the living room.

He found his father lounging on the couch with his socked feet crossed at the ankle resting on top of the coffee table. Stiles sat in the armchair across from his father, leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and waited.

"So tell me about you and Derek."

So Stiles did.

Stiles told his father about the first time he and Scott met Derek and of the instant attraction he had felt the older man. He told him all the things that made him fall in love with Derek. He told him that when Derek confessed to loving him that he tried to convince Stiles that it was a bad idea to accept his love. In Derek's eyes, he wasn't good enough for Stiles, but loved him anyway. Stiles didn't believe that; he knew what kind of man Derek was. He was a man whom had been through a terrible tragedy at a young age, a tragedy that he felt responsible for and it ate away at him for six long years. He was a man that no matter how much anger he held inside, he always tried to help others— always tried to do the right thing. He had saved Stiles' life more than once even when he thought Stiles was an annoying pain in the ass kid. He had saved Scott even when Scott had been difficult about training; when he wouldn't listen to Derek about the dangers of being involved with a hunter. He explained how Derek was more than willing to wait until he turned eighteen and that it was Stiles who pushed the issue. At sixteen, Stiles had been through more craziness than anyone three times his age. He believed that gave him the right to choose whom he wanted to love; choose whom he wanted to sleep with. If he could be trusted to drive a car, why couldn't he choose who he wanted to have sex with?

When Stiles began to explain the supernatural side of their relationship, John decided he had heard enough. He did not want to give thought to the idea of his son being in a permanent, supernatural relationship with no way out save death. With regular relationships, there was always the option of divorce and with werewolf mating, there is no such thing.

That comment struck Stiles as oddly hypocritical and he told his father as much. The purpose of marriage was to enter into a union that was meant to last, "Until death do us part" and yet divorce rates were higher now than they had ever been. Mating with Derek would mean they would be together forever; they would remain faithful to one another forever. How was that a bad thing?

John stopped the conversation there. He was tired and there was too much information for him to process. He had taken the night off so after he had a nap they could revisit the conversation. For now Stiles was welcome to spend time in his room or in front of the television, but he had better not step foot outside of the house. When John got up to go to his bedroom Stiles noted that he had his cell phone in his hand.

To say that Peter's reaction to Derek leaving was surprising would be an understatement. He was agreeable; thought it was a good idea. Peter even went so far as to admit that he was unfit to teach Derek control or leadership. He would stay and keep the Argents in check while also keeping Beacon Hills safe until his return.

Derek spoke with Isaac away from the house where Peter couldn't hear. He explained about the gaps in his education and the need to go to Oregon, but he also informed him about Stiles, something he chose to conceal from Peter. He assured Isaac that he wasn't leaving him forever and that he would always be his alpha. Considering everything Isaac had been through in his young life, he deserved to have the best alpha Derek could be. He gave Isaac the choice to stay in Beacon Hills, to look after the territory and continue to build his relationship with Scott; however, he could choose to go to Oregon and learn with Derek. No matter what he decided Derek vowed to accept and support his choice. All the same he was under strict orders to keep everything a secret from Scott. Scott didn't understand the bond between an alpha and his betas and he didn't want to understand. Telling Scott would endanger not only Derek and Stiles, but the entire Oregon pack.

Much to Derek's astonishment, Isaac agreed to keep the secret from Scott without hesitation or argument. Though he was new to being a wolf, Isaac was quick on the uptake; he knew what Stiles meant to Derek. Whatever his relationship with Scott was becoming, his loyalty remained with his alpha; with Derek. He promised to give Derek's offer some thought. Isaac wanted more than anything to be close to his alpha and to learn to be a good beta, but he also had ties to Beacon Hills.

Derek's talk with Chris Argent was very cut and dry. The veteran hunter agreed that Derek learning to control his alpha powers was best for everyone. They had a peace treaty now and Chris was acquiring a better understanding of the difference between supernatural beings and monsters. He didn't want to have to hunt Derek if he felt the alpha was heading into rogue status. Chris consented to looking after the Beacon Hills territory; to keep it free of rogue werewolves and hunters alike. Keeping an eye on Peter was also something he would have done without Derek requesting it. While he had set aside his yearning to avenge his sister's death, he would never forgive or trust Peter Hale. Chris was just smart enough to know that the killing had to stop somewhere or the Hales and Argents would eventually wipe one another out.

Contacting his aunt was probably the hardest thing Derek had to do. He had to tell her about Laura. Derek was fortunate that his aunt stopped his explanation as soon as he admitted that Laura was dead and he was now the alpha. "You can tell me everything when you arrive. When should I expect you?"

Hearing the words gave Derek and sense of relief; some of the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders. He never thought that she would turn him away; she would never turn family away, but he was worried about how she would take Laura's death. He was still worried since eventually he would have to tell her about Peter. "I'll be there in about a week. Aunt Laura…I won't be coming alone."

"No worries Angel, we'll be waiting for you. See you soon. And Derek?"


"I'm glad you're coming home."

Days later Derek visited Stiles well after midnight when everything in the neighborhood was quiet. He had run there, because he was fairly certain that the sheriff had deputies keeping an eye out for the Camaro; he couldn't risk anyone spotting it within in a five mile radius of the Stilinski home. He had brought Stiles a prepaid disposable cell phone. It didn't sit right with Derek that Stiles didn't have instant access to him in case of an emergency. Plus, if Stiles decided to change his mind about Oregon, he wanted him to be able to contact him without there being evidence for his father to find. Stiles was thankful for the phone, but mostly he was just happy to see Derek. They curled up in one another's arms for a few hours, relishing the contact before Derek deemed it was dangerous for him to remain any longer.

That same day Derek drove Isaac to a city sixty miles outside of Beacon Hills. He bought a nondescript dual cab pick-up truck. When Sheriff Stilinski finally noticed that his son was missing, Derek knew the first thing he would do was have local and state police search for his Camaro. He planned to leave it in Isaac's care until he returned to Beacon Hills.

Since he felt responsible for Isaac as his alpha and as possibly one of the few people in Beacon Hills that actually cared about the kid, Derek set up a bank account for him to use for emergencies as well as everyday necessities. He knew Peter had promised to care for Isaac in his absence, but Derek wanted to make sure that Isaac could care for himself if need be.

After packing his and Stiles' belonging in the truck—he wanted to be ready to leave at the drop of a hat if need be—Derek's last order of business was to purchase two bus tickets to New York. It was Derek's hope that this would throw the Sheriff off their trail. No one in Beacon Hills knew of his relatives in Oregon. They had tried finding next-of-kin to notify after the fire, but their research had been less than fruitful. By sending the Sheriff looking east, they would be safely in Oregon before anyone realized the bus tickets were a ruse.

Derek was ready to move on and take his mate with him. His only concerns were that Stiles would change his mind, or that Isaac would fold under the pressure of questioning from not only the Beacon Hills police department, but from his new best buddy Scott. He had to hope that his loyalty to Derek would keep Isaac from spilling any secrets. It was a risk both he and Stiles were willing to take.

"…You can still change your mind."

"Not gonna happen Sourwolf, and I wish you'd stop trying to convince me."

"I'm sorry, I just don't want you to get to Oregon and change your mind."

"That won't happen. All I want is to be with you; to be your mate. And if I can sacrifice my happiness to make sure everyone survived the werewolf invasion of Beacon Hills, I can damn sure sacrifice their happiness so I can finally have some. Fuck everyone else and their issues and hang-ups and needs. This is about you and me. I want this Derek. I will see you at the bus station tomorrow."

Derek closed his eyes and let the words wash over him, "See you tomorrow." He said softly before ending the call.

Derek was parked in the back of the bus station where there were many cars, buses, and people coming and going; where no one would notice one more parked vehicle. Derek stayed inside the cab of the truck wanting to remain out of sight. His heart was in his throat for the duration of the wait. He knew Stiles had been truthful every time he said he hadn't changed his mind, but Derek wouldn't believe it until he was sitting in the seat beside him and they were on the road to Oregon.

There was too much going on and he was much too wound-up to focus on any one thing. His heart was beating so fast and loud that he couldn't hear anything else going on around him. He gripped the steering wheel tightly and laid his forehead against it, making an attempt at taking calming breaths. The more he tried to calm himself, the more anxious he became, until the door opened and Stiles was sliding into the seat beside him.

He dropped his backpack on the floor at his feet and leaned over to press a kiss to Derek's temple. Stiles placed his hand on the back of Derek's neck and squeezed gently. "You okay?"

Derek smiled up at him, "I am now."

He leaned over, pressed a deep kiss to Stiles' lips before starting the engine and driving away from Beacon Hills.

Cause I've been through way too much

And we've grown so out of touch

Now we can't see eye to eye

It's time to kiss it goodbye

This is gonna hurt

This is gonna hurt you

This is gonna hurt you

More than it hurts me

The End

Notes: The title and lyrics are borrowed from a song on Hoobastank's Fight Or Flight album which has pretty much been the soundtrack while writing this fic.