A/N: Okay so I was going to write a really long chapter that went through the whole first episode of season two but before I could finish some things happened tthat ends with me having a splint on one wrist and too much to type with one hand. I hope you guys like this chapter anyway and I'll try again next weekend!


Three days. It had been three days since Peter's death and Stiles felt horrible. He wasn't eating or sleeping. Every night he laid in bed and felt his tether stretch into an abyss, an abyss that felt as if it was getting larger and larger as time passed. Stiles was a little scared that it was going to swallow him up but something inside him thought that it would be better that way. Sometimes the only thing he could focus on was that abyss because he knew that that was where Peter was. All that really mattered, though, was that Peter wasn't here with Stiles.

"Stiles."

At the sound of his father's voice, Stiles turned away from where he was staring blankly at his laptop screen. He could see his dad wince at the sight of ever-growing dark circles underneath his eyes; he knew that he looked awful but also knew that he felt even worse. "What is it?"

The sheriff hesitated in the doorway, his eyes tracing all over Stiles's form. "Scott called again. He wants to come see you."

"No," Stiles said firmly, trying to ignore the sharp burst of blame that shot through him at the mention of Scott. "No. I don't want to see him."

"I don't know what happened between you two, son," the sheriff sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "However, I'm sure it's not as bad as you're making it out to be."

Stiles turned back to his laptop, focusing on an article about mythical creatures, his heart pounding quickly. Scott being the actual werewolf didn't mean that his lycan actions only affected him. Being unfair to his dad was all on Stiles though, so he tried to end the conversation as quickly as possible. "Please go away."

"Stiles-"

"Please."

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a loud chirping coming from the sheriff's hip to signal a phone call. Stiles's dad sighed and answered it reluctantly.

"Stilinski."

Stiles ignored his father's phone call, keeping his eyes trained on an article that he'd already read, back when Scott had first been bit. It wasn't very informative but there was a particular section that had stuck out the first time that Stiles wanted to take a second look at. It had some bits that Stiles hadn't understood then.

"A werewolf's mate is essential to their sanity and control. Should a werewolf lose their mate, they would become a vengeful beast. In the case of true mates, the werewolf would be able to focus on nothing but its strong bloodlust. When werewolves mate within their kind, both wolves are able to initiate the claiming or mating bite. When werewolves mate with other creatures, including humans, only the werewolf itself can init-"

"Stiles, Lydia is missing from the hospital."

At his father's urgent tone, Stiles looked up at him despite his disinterest. He knew his father would only be more suspicious if he acted as if he didn't care about Lydia. Which he did, of course. She just wasn't what was important right now. "Do they have any leads?"

The sheriff shook his head, distressed. He turned to make his way down the stairs, but stopped and sighed. "I'm heading to the hospital. Do you want to come?"

"No," Stiles answered absently, turning back to the article. "No, I have to stay here."

"Are you sure? I mean, this is Lydia we're talking about," his dad said, watching Stiles closely. He kept his eyes on Stiles's face as he answered, surprised at the anger and sadness in the amber depths.

"Lydia doesn't matter!" Stiles exclaimed, flailing his arms in emphasis before pulling them in and wrapping them tight around his body. "Nothing matters. Don't you get that?"

Shaking his head slowly, the sheriff replied, "No, son, I don't get that. I get that the life of a sixteen year old girl may be at stake, I get that she is missing and severely injured, and I get that it is my duty as Sheriff to find her. That matters."

As his dad finally walked away, Stiles turned back to the screen and read the most important bit of the article in front of him.

"No one is certain how exactly a human is affected by mating with a werewolf, but some common traits are shared in every mating between a human and werewolf. The human will experience slightly heightened senses as well as a dampened scent. Both the human and werewolf will experience a sort of bond between them that keeps them attuned to one another. Most advisors of the supernatural theorize this to be because the human cannot experience the bond between wolves in the way another werewolf would be able to. However, the only true certainty they can count on is that should the werewolf die, the human will follow shortly after."

"The human will follow shortly after," Stiles repeated to himself, his voice hollow and quiet. He was so focused on those words that he didn't realize he was no longer alone. Someone had joined him.

"Stiles!"

Stiles moved so quickly that he fell out of his chair. Once he managed to pick himself up off the floor, he looked up at his visitor and froze. At the window stood the one person Stiles never wanted to see again.

"Derek Hale," Stiles greeted coldly, tightening his arms around himself again in a desperate attempt to keep from shaking apart with anger. His heart, unusually slow and steady these past few days, was rocketing up to an uncomfortable rate, pumping so fast that Stiles was worried it might beat right out of his chest. "What should I attribute this unfortunate visit to?"

Frowning deeply, Derek ran his eyes over Stiles, taking in all the little details. The boy in front of him was still as defiant as ever, but instead of standing tall and in his face, he was careful to stay on the opposite side of the room. "Stiles."

"What?!" Stiles snapped. "What do you want?"

"Scott says that you won't see him. Why?" Derek asked, trying to move closer but freezing when he saw Stiles flinch back.

"That's none of your business," Stiles said. "That's between me and Scott. It has nothing to do with you."

"Doesn't it?" Derek asked, watching Stiles track his every movement. "It looks like it has a little to do with me."

"It has nothing to do with you," Stiles repeated, keeping his voice firm.

"You keep moving away from me. Are you afraid of me now that I'm the Alpha?" Derek asked, masking his surprise at the darkening of Stiles's expression.

"Don't make me laugh," Stiles hissed, heat and anger lacing every word. "You may be an Alpha, but that doesn't mean I'm scared of you. It means I don't want anything to do with you."

"You can't avoid me, Stiles," Derek explained. "I'm Scott's Alpha now since I killed Peter."

Stiles froze. He had known Peter was dead, Scott had told him that, but he hadn't known that Derek was the one who killed him. He had just figured that Kate and Peter had torn each other apart in some hunter/werewolf showdown. Sure, he'd blamed Derek and Scott a little for not helping Peter, but now? Now he was just pissed.

"That's Scott's problem," Stiles spit out. "Me, though? I'm not a werewolf so that means that you mean nothing to me."

"You're Scott's best friend," Derek said calmly, panicking on the inside at the thought of Stiles refusing him. "If you wanted to be a werewolf, I could Bite you."

Stiles's face paled in an instant and his muscles went lax in fear. "Don't you dare. Don't come anywhere near me."

A sharp spike in Stiles's scent, something Derek had been having trouble deciphering this whole time, alarmed Derek and he stepped forward as if to comfort the boy in front of him. "Stiles, I'm not going to hurt you."

Moving quickly, Stiles went around Derek and put his back toward his bedroom door. "Get out."

Derek's forehead crinkled in confusion. "Stiles-"

"Get out!" Stiles yelled, throwing his hands out in Derek's direction. He froze and watched in shock as Derek was forced out the window shortly before the glass slid down and slammed shut, the lock flicking to the side. Before he could look down at his hands fearfully, his fingers twitched suddenly and the blinds fell while the curtains slid together, blocking out any and all view of outside.

"What the Hell. . ." Stiles whispered, staring at the completely covered window. He was so shocked that he barely felt the knot around his heart tugging wildly.


A/N: If you liked it please review! thanks!

~S.