It's raining. The type of rain that pelts down on the roof to the point where you swear there are buckets of water being dropped rather than individual rain drops.

The type of rain that has the lightning that blinds you for a few seconds before your ear drums are attacked by a sudden boom of thunder.

The type of rain that makes you want to turn of all your electronics and just light a lot of candles so that you know you're not in danger of a power outage.

The type of rain that makes you want to burrow under a blanket because in your mind, that useless piece of fabric will keep you safe from everything. Even werewolves, murderers, vampires, and anything else that may be lurking around at night.

The type of rain that Stiles watches as he curls into a ball in front of the wall of windows in Derek's loft and just...waits.

Peter had long since stopped trying to get him to talk.

He'd just sighed and wrapped Derek's bed cover around his shoulders before walking off.

And even then Stiles doesn't bother to snap out of his trance.

Because no matter what he does, no matter what he thinks, his mind is still whirling in a frenzy that leaves Stiles just...starring off into space.

His brain is an old fashioned type writer and it's just clicking away a hundred miles an hour and he can just sit there...listening to the clicking.

He's thinking about anything and everything.

He's thinking about Scott's mom and how it's not fair that she got dragged into all of this.

He's thinking about Lydia and how he's not supposed to be trusting Peter right now.

He thinks about Boyd and how the guy's going to react when he comes to.

He's thinking about Cora and how she's going to react to Derek.

He's thinking about his father.

He's thinking about Scott.

He's thinking about Derek.

And most importantly...he's thinking about himself.

About how he could have been a sacrifice, had he not gone to get a condom.

About how he was so close to death...and he just cheated it as if it were nothing.

About how because of him...an innocent girl died.

About how he's still in danger.

About how none of this if fair because just a few short months ago...he was normal. His life was normal and the worst thing going on in his life was the low B he was getting in his Biology class.

And suddenly the clicking of the type writer stops.

Because the Loft door is opening and creaking shut.

Because there are heavy foot steps coming his way.

Because for the life of him, Stiles can't snap out of his terrified state in order to turn around or run or do something.

"What are you doing here?"

And everything's okay.

It's just Isaac.

"...couldn't sleep."

"And the best place to come is here? Why aren't you at Scott's?"

"...I don't know."

"What's wrong? Your heart beat is insane."

"...they found Heather."

"...that's good...isn't it?"

"Not when she's dead. Not when she was killed three different ways, not when she was a sacrifice."

"Hey. Stiles, calm down." Isaac's there. Kneeling beside Stiles with wide eyes and a surprised look. "Slow down...and explain."

And so Stiles does. He explains everything just like he did with Scott.

And he lets Isaac drag him over to a make shift kitchen and he takes the mug of disgusting tea the other guy gives him and he just...speaks.

He talks until he confesses what happened that night at the party and what was going to happen.

He confesses that he thought he'd been ditched.

He confesses that the reason he came to the loft was because he was terrified to be in his house alone.

He confesses everything until he's crying and he clutching Derek's cover to his body like a safety blanket or a life vest.

He confesses until he hears the door creak shut again and Derek walks in.

Because then, he wipes away the tears, quiets his breathing, and just...sips his tea silently.

"What are you doing here?" the Alpha asks as he peels off his bloody and tattered shirt.

"What happened to you?" Stiles retaliates with a frown.

"...it's a full moon. Did you expect anything other than horror?" the older male asks as he walks to the sink in the make-shift kitchen.

"I expected maiming, out of control werewolves, and blood. I was right."

"Funny." Derek mutters as he drags a wet rag over his bloody torso. "Shouldn't you be heading to school?"

"...it's Saturday." Isaac states before sighing and pulling his scarf off. "I'm going to bed." the young werewolf mutters after slipping the piece of fabric around Stiles' neck.

"You're not going to be able to reach." Stiles states after watching Derek attempt to wipe off the center of his back.

"Are you just going to stand there?"

"Why should I help?"

"Stiles." Derek turns to the human with raised eyebrows.

"A 'please' would have been nice." Stiles shuffles over and takes the pink tinted rag.

"Just do it."

The blood is dried and it flakes off on some areas. Others, he has to scrub in order to rid the werewolf of the thick liquid.

"What happened?" Stiles asks as he moves from Derek's back over to the man's neck.

"...nothing. Why are you wearing my cover?"

"...no reason." Stiles keeps wiping and eventually gets to the werewolf's face.

"We got to the school. A teacher, she was there and was caught in the cross fire. I had to help."

"...Peter gave it to me. I think I was shivering."

"Why are you here, Stiles?"


"No...lie to me."

"...I can't go home?"

"Why no?"

"...I'm scared."

"Scared? Boyd and Cora aren't-"

"No. It's not them."

"Then what?"

"Scott doesn't tell you guys much, does he?"

"What's going on, Stiles? What's wrong? And don't you dare lie to me. You and I both know that never works."

"...Boyd and Cora didn't kill anyone."

"What are you talking about?"

"That guy at the pool? That wasn't Boyd and Cora's doing."

"...then who?"

"I don't know. But whoever did it...they were human."

"How do you know?"

"No werewolf would need sacrifices. Especially not three teenage virgin sacrifices."

"What are you talking about?"

"I just explained, Derek. I can't go home. I can't be alone."

"...you're scared you could be next."

"I should have been one of them. I should have been killed with Heather but I wasn't."

"Heather...what are you talking about?"

"Derek...I'm scared." Stiles mumbles as he tosses the rag into the sink. "I scared because these people aren't werewolves or Kanimas or anything like that. I'm scared because these people are humans. Like me. And they're running around killing people- innocent people- without a care in the world. And despite what everyone seems to think, I'm not indestructible. I'm human, I bruise easy and I die just ask easily. And you all are expecting me to run around as if I'm not on the verge of breaking down. I'm not Allison. I'm not a bad ass. I'm...I'm Erica before the bite. I'm Isaac before his dad was killed. I'm...I'm weak and I'm scared and I don't want to be alone because I'm terrified of what's out there."

" No one is going to hurt you, Stiles." Derek sighs as he walks towards the bed.

"I pour my heart out to you and you walk away?" Stiles scoffs as tears streak down his cheeks.

"No one is going to hurt you, Stiles."

"You're right. Because I'm not taking chances. I'm not going anywhere alone. And you can't make me."

"Stiles..." Derek sighs as he opens a bedside drawer to pull out a new shirt.

"You don't get it." Stiles mumbles as he crawls over to curl up against the bed's head board.

"No one is going to hurt you because you have me. You have your werewolf boyfriend and your werewolf best friend and your werewolf friend who is dead set on protecting you, especially when Scott won't." Derek mumbles as he sits down in front of the teen. "Okay? You have us. Nothing is going to so much as touch you"

And with that, Stiles is kissed.

It's not an open mouthed kiss. It's not sexy or sloppy or passionate.

It isn't what Derek normally kisses like.

But it's nice. It's reassuring.

"What was that?" Stiles asks with a sniffle.

"It's a promise. Now move over, I'm going to bed.

"...what is the promise, exactly?"

" No one is going to hurt you. You have me."

"Um...does that mean that you're going to take my-"

"No." Derek dead pans before chuckling. "Not yet anyway. I understand that we have a problem with these killings. But that doesn't give you a right to toss your virginity out the window like a a candy wrapper. We have an agreement. Okay?"

"...so...then what?"


"How are you going to protect me? You can't be around me all the time."

"It's simple."

"How?" Stiles asks as Derek tugs the cover around the both of them.

"I'm the Alpha."

Stiles smiles slightly when the familiar red glow brightens the room.

"Can I go to sleep now?" the werewolf asks as his eyes dim.

"...Can I sleep here?"

"As long as you aren't gone when I wake up."

"Trust me, that's no problem." Stiles smiles as he settles in.