#lost wolf

•And I never minded being on my own

Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home

To be where you are

But even closer to you, you seem so very far

And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing

And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind

Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear

Lost Wolf (Curse of the Moon #1) by Stacy Claflin

Lost Wolf Stacy Claflin (Curse of the Moon, #1) Publication date: July 17th 2016 Genres: Paranormal Romance, Young Adult She’s hiding a dark secret. It already killed her once. Victoria can’t wait to start college, but there’s a hitch—she can’t remember anything before arriving on campus. Her memories spark when she sees her ruggedly handsome math professor, but she senses something horrific. The…

 He hasn't seen any of the Pack in a few days. He knows it's something wolf related, and not something that he can help with, because otherwise they'd have come to him for research by now. Which is why it is nearly two in the afternoon on the first Saturday of the summer after senior year when he finds himself wandering the far side of the Preserve. The farthest away from town, and the Hale house. His mother had brought him here as a child, sometimes on picnics, others on hikes down to the pool of water at the bottom of a hidden ravine. He used to come here all the time, but when Scott was bitten, he figured it was safer to stick to the parts that the Pack frequented. There hadn't been any issues in the past few months—everyone had managed to have a normal high school experience the last few weeks of senior year, which was thoroughly enjoyed and much appreciated on all of their parts. Even Derek had seemed to relax into the routine and even joined them all for Pack Nights.

So it is with a tremendous amount of surprise that he heard quick footsteps and loud rustling coming from ahead of him, in a path that appeared to be right in line with his. He prepared his hands for the magic that could spark from his finger tips, crouched slightly in order to take off running if needed. But what he got instead was a large, black, furry creature that leaped from the underbrush to tackle him to the ground. Stiles sputtered in shock, because while others may be scared of being mauled by forest creatures, Stiles recognized this particular wolf. “Derek?” he asked in shock. The wolf gave a short bark and pressed it's nose into his ear. “Ew! Oh, come on, man, that's gross!” he whined, trying to shove the large head away from him. “What's got you all furry, anyway?” Wolf-Derek pulled back and shook, then crouched with his rump in the air and wiggled. “The Hell, dude, you want to play?” he questioned, gobsmacked. He flipped onto his knees and mirrored the Alpha turned puppy and stared until he moved. Wolf-Derek jerked forward and then back, whining as he did so, before he rushed Stiles and pushed him to the ground.

Of course Stiles didn't take that well. “Come on, you jerk, just 'cause you're the Alpha doesn't mean you can push me around,” he grunted as the pushed the wolf over onto his side as he draped himself over it. Wolf-Derek squirmed away and backed up, then charged headfirst into his belly. Stiles got his leg around Wolf-Derek's back and went down, wrestling with the furry creature as sounds of panted breath and canine yips filled the forest. They continued to roll around in the dirt and leaves, sometimes along with burst of laughter from Stiles or disdainful huffs from Wolf-Derek for a good ten minutes, enough so that neither of them heard the approach of someone else until it's too late.

“Stiles?”

Oh no. Oh no ohnonono.

“Who is this, Derek?” he asked, one leg wrapped around the wolf's neck as one of his wrists was held gingerly between pearly teeth. Derek stood above them, utterly disheveled, perhaps more so than Stiles had ever seen him. His hair was a mess, he was wearing a dirty—but intact—shirt, and he had small cuts running up and down both arms. Stiles quickly disentangled himself from the wolf and flailed over to him, ghosting quick fingers over one of the cuts before Derek pushed him away. The wolf whined. “Dude! What the hell is wrong with you? Who the hell is this?” he demanded, gesturing towards the wolf, who took that moment to slink over and butt his head against Stiles' hip. Derek grit his teeth, ran a hand through his already messy hair, and muttered something that was completely missed by Stiles. “What was that?”

“That's my wolf,” he grit out.

“Isn't your wolf supposed to be, you know, inside you?” he asked.

“It usually is,” he grumped, voice less growly than it always was. “But now he's not, obviously. We're working on it.”

“We? As in, the Pack?” Derek nodded. “You didn't think that I could help, or what?” he questioned, stroking the wolf's head.

“Would you stop that?” Derek snapped, reaching for the wolf, who snapped back at him.

“What, touching him? No,” Stiles retorted petulantly. “Just because human you can't handle human contact doesn't mean that you have to subject your wolf to that, too. Do you need help or not?”

“Stiles,” Derek groaned. “No, I don't need your help, I'm going to Deaton.”

“You're just going to leave him here? Or are you going to walk a fully grown wolf into the vet's office and expect people not to notice?” Derek looked strained and Stiles softened. “I'll watch him while you talk to Deaton. We'll figure it out, and when you're done, you know where to find me.” Derek looked at him, then sighed.

“I'll walk you back.” The walk was almost silent, punctuated only by the wolf rustling through the underbrush and Stiles' laughter as the wolf tried to get him to chase him. He did, chasing the wolf a little way until it turned and chased him back to Derek. Derek, who looked more tense than Stiles had ever seen him. More tightly coiled, even if his super strength was currently tugging at the sleeve of Stiles' hoodie.

“Hey, you jerk,” he laughed, swatting lightly at his head. “This is my favorite hoodie!” The wolf let go, but pressed around them, so tightly that eventually Stiles' and Derek's arms brushed. They emerged from the woods behind Stiles' house, and he let himself into the back door. “Go talk to Deaton, I'll be here,” Stiles said. Derek looked at the wolf, who was staring deeper into the house. “Don't worry. I'll take care of him,” Stiles said softly. “He'll be safe while you're gone.” Derek nodded sharply once, then stalked off back into the trees, probably to go find his Camaro so that he could make it to Deaton's without the people of Beacon Hills seeing that something was slightly off with the reclusive Hale.

Stiles looked down at the wolf who was sitting on his left foot. It woofed softly and beat it's tail against the floor, just like an overgrown puppy. He sighed and shut the door, then reached down to scratch behind his ears. “What am I going to do with you, huh? You like baseball? Or maybe a nap?” The wolf perked his ears and Stiles smiled. “Well, come on, then. I'm sure you know where my bedroom is, with your creepy buddy Derek coming in at all hours.” The wolf huffed unhappily as he trotted up the stairs, looking over his shoulder to make sure that Stiles was still following. He pushed open his door and flopped onto his bed, back first, and the wolf hopped up next to him, turned once before he collapsed down, head and front paws on his chest. Stiles groaned, but lifted a hand to dig into the fur at the back of the wolf's neck. “Jeeze, be little gentle with the poor weak human, would you?” The wolf let out a whine and nosed at his chin, and Stiles chuckled a little. “Nah, I'm not quite that breakable, honestly, even though everyone thinks I am.”

It was silent in the room.

“I mean, I'm pretty sure everyone thinks I am. They never let me help unless it's research, or I show up on my own. I usually end up saving the day, you know, but there's no credit. It's always Scott, and he kind of left me in the dust when he got turned,” Stiles sighed, playing with the wolf's ear distractedly. “I mean, they beat on me all the time, even though I'm easily breakable. Can you believe Erica bashed me in the head with a part of my Jeep and knocked me out? And she left me in a dumpster? Scott almost killed me when he first got turned, but I never got an apology for that, either.” He looked down at the wolf who was drowsing lazily, head sprawled across his stomach, cold nose just nudging the sliver of bare skin at his hip.

“Ha, don't let Derek catch you doing that, boy. He wouldn't want any part of himself that close to me.” He honestly only knew what Derek had given him, and that was that he wasn't interested and that Stiles was pretty much the wolfsbane of his existence. “Really, all he does is push me around. Which sucks, 'cause I really like the guy. When he's not being a complete dick. But hey, when he tried to save me from the kanima, that was kind of romantic, right? Even though I was the one who saved the day, he had the right intentions. And he never really brought up the whole being paralyzed on top of him, thing, either, which is kind of nice—except that I'd like him to bring it up because I'd like to be in that position with him again. Many different positions, actually.” The wolf lifted his head and Stiles shook his own. “I can't tell him that, there's no way in Hell that Derek Hale, muscled god among weres and men would ever be into skin-and-bones Stilinski.

“I mean, sure, I've bulked up, and kinda grown into myself, but it's not what people see—I stand next to werewolves and Lydia and Allison and all I am is some stringy kid who can't get a guy to save his life—what if it comes down to that someday? What if it's “this creature is going to kill anyone in the Pack who isn't either getting sexed regularly or has a significant other?” What do I do then? I mean, obviously, Derek could get anyone he wanted, but I, however, cannot, and I really don't like wallowing about it, but everyone else is happy, and I just want Derek to be happy, preferably with me, but you know, since that won't happen, I'd rather see him with someone else than alone for the rest of his life. He deserves to be happy. You both do,” he said, mussing up the fur on the wolf's head. “Because really, he's had a fucked up life, and I guess you have, too, losing your family and your Pack, and if you can't have anything else, that's what I'd want for you. To have a Pack and family and people that love you no matter what.

“I know what it's like to lose someone close to me. My mom may not compare to eight people, but to me, she was more than that. She was the one other family member I had, one third of my family unit. I was crushed, I was broken, I was guilty. I thought it was my fault, that I stressed her out and made her angry at me, and she died. It was partly stress, and she was angry, but she was angry at the cancer, and not at me. Sometimes she just yelled, horrible, ugly things, and my dad would make me leave as he talked her down. My mom wasn't perfect, as much as I like to think she is. She swore a lot, and she used to smoke, and she sometimes threw things around the garage when she was angry. I never saw it, but I heard it, and it scared me. But every time that happened, she would come in, tell me why she was angry, and then she'd bake cookies. A lot of people told me “she was such a sweet woman,” and I couldn't help but think about how wrong they were. She was sweet sometimes, yeah, and she was definitely a nice woman, but she was tough. It took the cancer almost a year to beat her. The doctor gave her three months when she was diagnosed. I think I have her stubbornness.” He sighed and swallowed thickly, feeling heat build behind his eyes.

“I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. Probably because it won't get back to anyone and you still feel like someone I can talk to. I mean, I can let off everything that's on my chest right now, right? I mean, you probably don't understand me anyway. So sorry, buddy, but I'm gonna keep talking for a minute. I know I've already said this, but I like your...vessel. You. I like you both together. I feel like you're the playful side of Derek that he never lets out, which is a shame, because I think he'd be better off if he could relax and loosen up sometimes, and Derek without you is sort of empty, not whole. He's not him without you, just like you're not you without him. I mean, I'd probably be a different person without him.” He shrugged, making the wolf huff when his pillow was disturbed. “But I don't want to be without him. If I could I'd stay by that asshole's side forever. As it's going now, though, I don't think that'll ever happen, so I think eventually I'm going to have to try and move on. But hey, I'm eighteen, I think I have a few years left of pining, right?” he chuckled dryly. “So that's pretty much what's on my mind right now. What about you?”

---

“Derek! What can I do for you?” Deaton asked as he wiped his hands on a clean cloth. Derek shifted and opened the mountain ash gate that usually kept his kind out. Deaton raised a brow. “Should I prepare for an epic?”

“I've been separated from my wolf,” Derek said shortly. “I woke up and it wasn't...under my skin. I need to get it back.”

“And where is your wolf now?” Derek hesitated.

“With Stiles. We decided it would be safest.”

“We?”

“Well, he decided. I just...agreed.” Deaton's brow lifted again.

“Is that so? Why don't you tell me what led up to you finding out that your wolf was gone?” Deaton suggested, leaning against the sterile metal table in the center of the room. Derek sighed.

“I couldn't sleep last night. I felt like I was going to come out of my skin, like I used to, before I could control my shift on the full moon. So I went for a run; I got tired a lot more quickly that I would normally. I was tired and sore. I don't think I've ever been sore. I could barely smell anything, so I went back to my house to sleep. But when I woke up this morning...I was human. I guess I'm human, without my wolf. I don't have the sight, smell, or strength, I don't have the healing or the shift, or anything. The wolf was waiting for me when I woke up. The he ran away and now I'm covered in these,” he said angrily as he held out his arms so Deaton could see the small scratches that ran across both forearms.

“Do they hurt?” Deaton asked.

“No, they just itch,” he whined, then pulled back, obviously embarrassed by the admission.

“Well,” Deaton turned back to the cabinets. “This is quite rare, but definitely not unheard of.”

“So what does it mean?”

“It means that your wolf has recognized a willing and capable mate, but you haven't. In fact, this usually means that you are trying to avoid it,” Deaton replied reproachfully looking over his shoulder.

“It picked someone? But that's not possible. I'm not interested in anyone,” Derek protested. Deaton turned around with a bottle in each hand.

“I may not be a wolf, Derek, but I do know when you're lying,” he said reasonably. “I also have eyes. You seem to be the only one who doesn't know. So I cannot help you. That is for your wolf to do. You need to figure out what you want to do with this information on your own.”

“I don't know who it is.” Deaton looked as exasperated as Derek had ever seen him.

“Derek. Who do you trust above all else.” It wasn't a question. Obviously Deaton knew the answer. Derek considered. His family. He used to trust them. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica, to an extent. They were Pack. Lydia? He was more terrified of her personality than anything else. Allison? Sure, she was okay for a Hunter. Deaton sighed. “Who did you leave a literal piece of your soul with?” Derek swallowed. Stiles. Of course it was Stiles—the only one he actively kept from thinking about if it didn't concern the supernatural, because he was the Sheriff's underage (he thought) son, who only frequented gay clubs for the drag queens, and not for the prospect of getting into someone's pants.

“Stiles?”

“You two work really quite well together. Also, it's clear that he has had feelings for you for some time now. Apparently he's good at hiding it from you?”

“No, but Stiles...” he trailed off. He wasn't any good for Stiles, always dragging him into danger and getting him hurt, and why? Because Derek was a shit Alpha who couldn't do anything without the human's help. The human that he had, frankly, been tied up about and rude to exactly because of his feelings. He had thought that if he were mean, pushed him away, made him think that Derek hated him, that he'd back out of this dangerous life and settle down and be safe. Obviously that hasn't happened yet.

“Stiles?” Deaton prompted. Derek shook his head.

“I can't do that to him. I can't tie him down, I can't manipulate him into wanting that with me. He has to choose.”

“You seem to have missed the part about a willing and eager participant,” Deaton sighed. “Just...go see Stiles and your wolf. The best thing you can do right now is try and keep them both happy, which honestly shouldn't be too hard. I'll look into getting your wolf back in your body, but if my theory is correct it will happen on it's own.” Derek sighed and looked at his arms, then turned and pushed open the mountain ash barrier.

---

Stiles was laying in bed, half asleep, with the wolf under one arm when the doorbell rang. The wolf bolted up with a happy yip and bounded down the stairs. Stiles followed sedately, bare chested and yawning as he opened the door. Derek stood there, one hand raised as if to punch the bell again and the other was shoved into the pocket of his jeans. Stiles paused in the doorway, momentarily confused before his face cleared and he smiled.

“Sorry, I was still expecting you to climb in my window.” The wolf huffed and circled behind Derek to push him into the house. “Yeah, yeah, come in.” He turned, headed back inside and called over his shoulder, “can I get you anything? A drink? A snack?”

Derek didn't answer for a moment, he was too distracted by the smooth expanse of Stiles' back, pale skin dotted with dark moles and strong contours of his spine and muscle.“A drink, thank you.”

“We've got juice, juice, and water,” Stiles said with a grin in Derek's direction. “Cranberry and apple. I'd like to say that we've got something stronger, but unfortunately that isn't good for my dad's heart and I'm trying to keep him alive as long as possible, you know? But I think with all the supernatural stuff that's not gonna happen...” he trailed off and shook his head before he poured two glasses of juice and handed one to Derek. “So what did Deaton tell you?” Derek's eyes flickered towards the stairs and he shrugged. Stiles rolled his eyes but tugged gently on one of the wolf's ears and led the other two up the stairs. Stiles flopped onto his bed and the wolf hopped up next to him.

“He said he couldn't do anything about it. If everything goes according to plans, it...should go back on it's own,” Derek eventually said, looking at the wolf on the bed. “If not, I guess I'm stuck human forever.”

“Human forever? Derek Hale, Sourwolf, human forever?” Stiles questioned, he lifted his head and looked down his body at the older man in his doorway. “No way. I'm not gonna let that happen. We'll figure out to get you back to normal.”

Derek looked down at Stiles, face unreadable. Suddenly he stalked over and sank down next to the bed, back pressed against the edge. The smell of Stiles filled his nose, though not nearly the extent that it did when he was a wolf. With this new perspective he could smell the different scent that was Stiles, the darker musk that was unwashed sheets and dirty clothes, the slightly fruitier scent of the handsoap that he knew was in the bathroom. He couldn't smell the spicy arousal that always seemed to cling to him. He couldn't smell the faint resignation/sorrow smell that clung to him all the time.

“What if—what if we can't, though?” The words were dragged out of him, almost involuntary, and he crossed his arms and propped them on his knees. He heard the bed shift and suddenly his shoulders were bracketed by Stiles' knees and he had a wolf head thrust between his legs, wet nose pressed against the hollow of his throat. Something heavy settled around his head and the unobtrusive scent of Stiles filled his nose. Stiles' biceps were cradling his head, his hands slid down under the wolf's chin. Derek was startled by the contact, but relaxed into it slowly.

“Derek. I don't care what we have to do, I'll make sure we get you back in one piece.” Derek was relieved he didn't say “we'll fix you.” There was nothing needing fixing, just to be put back together. “So don't worry. Actually, I wouldn't blame you if you did, but just, trust me, okay? Trust your pack?” Derek leaned his head against one of Stiles' arms.

“I always trust you.” He heard a soft exhalation and felt the breath stir his hair.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, lips dragging against the crease of skin at Stiles' elbow. “If anyone can do this, you can.” Nevermind the fact that Stiles was literally the only one who could help him, if what Deaton said was true. However, it did seem that Stiles was okay with him. The touching was nice, and he relished it, because Stiles was Pack and the Pack was his. They sat silently until they heard a car pull in the driveway.

“That'll be my dad,” Stiles muttered as he pulled his arms away and stretched. Derek tried not to feel the loss of warmth as he scratched his wolf behind the ears. “Did you want to stay for dinner? Or would you rather go?”

“I'd better go,” Derek said softly. “Did you want me to take him?” he asked, gesturing towards the large canine between his legs. “Or will you be fine with him?” Stiles smiled and pressed himself against Derek's back again to scratch the wolf's chin.

“We get along just fine. I think we'll be fine if you want to keep working on getting him back where he belongs.” Stiles pulled his legs back and rolled off of his bed, then padded over to his desk. “I looked up some stuff online, there's a few things about souls missing, but I don't think it is, more likely that it's split or something, which I can work with. There are a couple of herbal remedies that I noted for you, and Deaton should have the ingredients, and there's a spell that I can set up if nothing else works. Also, there was something on the third page about prolonged exposure to the quote, “center of the world-heart, the holder of life,” which I can't really help you with, because I don't know what that is. But I'll keep looking into it,” he said, finally pausing to breathe. He stopped when Derek chuckled.

“I've got to go, Stiles.” He collected the papers from Stiles' hands and shouldered past him towards the door. Gently, of course. Stiles followed him down the stairs, as did the wolf.

“Is that you, Stiles?” they heard the Sheriff call from the living room.

“Yeah! Derek's here, too!” he replied as he nudged past the older man as they got to the bottom of the stairs and poked his head around the door frame to see his father. “He needed some help, so he came to me.”

“That all he came for?” he asked dryly as he eyed the wolf that came into the room first.

“Ha, that's not Derek. Well, it is, but it isn't. Get in here! And yeah, I'm pretty sure that's all he came for.” Stiles watched Derek come around the corner, hands shoved into his pockets face closed off more than it had been in Stiles' room.

“Sir,” he said, head held high and eyes on the Sheriff's.

“Well, hello, Derek. Something I can help you with? Who's this? Transformation gone wrong?” Derek shook his head.

“No, no transformations. We think it's a spell gone wrong,” Derek said, and Stiles smiled at the sort of lie. His dad had known about the werewolves since the Alpha Pack incident, and Stiles loved that he could talk to his dad about the supernatural shit that tended to go down, but he still didn't tell him everything. And since this wasn't life threatening, and probably not a huge deal, so it didn't have to be talked about. It sometimes worked better that way. “Stiles is helping.”

“The wolf is going to be staying, dad,” Stiles said with a smile. “You can both have steak tonight if you agree.” His dad snorted.

“Bribing your own father, huh? Fine, fine, but I'm holding you to that. You staying, Derek?” Derek shook his head and jerked a thumb towards the door. “Alright. Some other time, then. Have a good night, Derek.” Derek nodded and Stiles rolled his eyes before he walked the other man to the door.

“You'll call me if you find anything, right?” he asked as he looked up at the scruffy human Derek. “You won't just have your betas take care of it?” Derek shook his head.

“I don't think my betas could do much, if anything about it. I'll call you.” Stiles watched him climb into the Camaro before he shut the door and went to the kitchen to start dinner. His dad was standing in the kitchen, holster and gun laid out on the table and questioning look on his face.

“Care to tell me what this is about, son?” Stiles groaned.

“I told you, spell gone wrong,” he said, which is actually probably the truth.

“I meant,” his dad sighed, “there's something off about Derek. And I know how you feel about the guy—I've known since you climbed into my squad car with him. And now I think you're actually going somewhere with it.” Stiles dropped his red face into his hands and moaned pathetically.

“Dad! It's not like that. Derek isn't interested in me, okay? I mean, sure, we're touchy, but that's a Pack thing. I think. I mean, not like I don't think he wouldn't be interested if I tried, but I haven't given him much of a reason to think I'd be interested—”

“Kid, you've given him every reason to think you're interested in him. You helped him when no one else would, you give it to him straight when he needs to hear it, and you practically gravitate towards him when you're in the same room. If he's any sort of intelligent, which I know he is, then he should get it together soon, before you go off to college and meet someone who isn't afraid to ask you out. Who I will also be considerately more wary of and will probably disapprove for the first two years of your relationship, just like I did with Derek.”

“Dad, you can't have disapproved of him, we weren't in a relationship.”

“I can disapprove of the older man who hung around my jailbait son and his friends who also happens to be a werewolf even if you two weren't in a relationship,” the Sheriff countered. “Now, I think you promised steak tonight?” Stiles sighed and pulled the two slabs of red meat that he had been saving out of the back of the freezer.

“Yeah, yeah, but if you keel over tonight, it's not my fault. I'll blame something supernatural. The Pack will back me up, give me an alibi.” He did snorted.

“I don't doubt it. You're all a bunch of hoodlums.”

“But we're your hoodlums,” Stiles replied as he batted his eyelashes. “How many cops can say they've got walking talking lie detectors and sniffer dogs who happen to be versed in the supernatural?”

“Probably not many,” his dad grumbled. “And I appreciate it. But only when you aren't stirring up things that would be best left unstirred.”

“Unstirred, dad? Go shower.”

---

“Hey, Derek!” Said Alpha jerked in surprise and whipped around, an unsatisfying growl on is lips. Isaac stood there, looking stunned. “Did I scare you?”

“No,” Derek grumbled as he crossed his arms and sank deeper into his couch. “I was distracted.”

“You're always telling us to be vigilant, that we can't let anything distract us,” Isaac said with a frown. Derek sighed, he knew his beta wouldn't give this up without a fight.

“I'm dealing with an issue right now.”

“Is that why you're holed up here and Stiles is the only one that's seen you in three days?” he asked with a smug grin, hands shoved into the back pockets of his jeans. “Because he definitely smelled like you yesterday. Pretty much like you two rolled around together.”

“We went to see Deaton. Who can't give me any information on what's wrong.”

“What is wrong, Derek?” Isaac asked as he sank onto the couch next to the older man. “Can we help you with anything?” Derek shook his head.

“I don't think so. According to Deaton...” he sighed. “According to Deaton only Stiles can help me.”

“What, with his magic dick or something?” Derek glared at him and huffed.

“No, not with his dick. I'm not sure how he can help, exactly,” Derek admitted. “My...wolf and I have been separated,” he muttered. “I don't have any of my usual powers. I'm human for the first time in my life and I'm having problems...getting used to it.” Isaac sat next to him in silence for a few moments.

“How long has this been happening?”

“It's been a few days,” Derek shrugged. Isaac growled and Derek whipped around. “What?”

“You don't think that this is something your Pack should know? We could have been around, made sure that nothing came after you!” he exploded. “What if something happened to you while you were human? What if you get shot and can't heal? What if Hunters come?!”

“We have a treaty with the Argents,” he replied indignantly. Isaac rolled his eyes.

“There are more hunters that just the Argents, and you know it. What if some other creature came and wanted to off our Alpha? You couldn't do anything! What do you think we'd do without you?”

“Find another Alpha?” he grumbled as he crossed his arms and refused to look at his beta. Without his wolf, he knew that any of his betas could take him and that scared him. Not that he thought any of them would do that, but the possibility was frightening. Sure, he knew how to handle himself, but Isaac was right, without his healing abilities, he wouldn't know what to do. There was another growl from the young beta.

“Derek! We don't want another Alpha,” he said firmly. “None of us. So you're going to have to suck it up and realize that we're here to help, however we can, and if that means leaving one of us with you at all times, then so be it,” Isaac stated. “Just like you make us do with the humans if something's up.” Derek jerked indignantly.

“No, I won't be watched over like I can't take care of myself.”

“Oh, really?” Isaac lunged and managed to flip Derek over his hip and pin him on the floor in the span of a blink before he let him back up. “You can't, actually, and that has nothing to do with your skill as a werewolf or an Alpha. It's just the circumstances. So please, Derek, let us do this for you,” he asked softly, his hand came to rest clenched in the fabric of Derek's stomach. Derek let out a breath and brought Isaac's head down to rest on his shoulder. They didn't talk, but Derek gave a short nod into the younger man's hair. “Thank you,” Isaac breathed.

The next day Jackson showed up with a smirk and a box of Band-Aids.

---

“Come on, Wolfy, we're going for a run,” Stiles said as he pulled on his sneakers. The wolf on the bed let out a huff and rolled over so it faced away from him. “Or, you know, you could stay here. Alone. And I'll go out. I mean, I don't know when I'll be back,” he teased as the wolf rolled back over and gave him a curled lip. “Come on, it can't be that bad. You like running! Maybe we'll go see Derek.” At that, the wolf hopped off the bed and circled him. “I thought that might get your attention.”

Stiles made his way past his dad—the wolf stopped to nose at his hand—and out the front door. His neighbor, Mrs. Finch, was outside and gave him a look. “Dear, that dog seems like too much,” she began. Stiles just laughed and crouched to cuddle up to the wolf. “No, really, young man, I don't think that thing is safe to keep around!”

“He's a big softy, Mrs. Finch!” he laughed as he pressed his nose against the wolf's. “He'll only get rowdy if someone tries to hurt me.”

“But what if it doesn't know? What if someone isn't actually trying to hurt you and he attacks them?”

“He won't,” he replied confidently. “He's smarter than that. Plus, I can't just get rid of him! I love him, I could never do that.”

“You've had him for two days, Stiles,” she said with a frown.

“But I've known him forever,” he snarked. “Now, I'm going for a run. Have a good day, Mrs. Finch,” he said over his shoulder as he trotted away, the wolf on his heels. He had picked up running the beginning of Junior year, after the Alpha Pack incident. It had started off as training, because really, if he could keep the Alphas off his tail for longer than a minute, he'd count that as a success, but he had come to enjoy it and it was something that calmed him down. He'd run with Derek once, when he had run into him at the Preserve, and that was one of his best runs to date. He never had a set route, he runs until he's tired and then walks home. Or, if he's run far enough, walks until he's recovered and the runs the rest of the way home. Today he feels great, so it's going to be a hell of a run. “You ready boy?” he asked with a laugh as he leaned into his pace.

The wolf yipped and followed him to the park, then through the gate that led to the running trails. It's a quiet day, and relatively cool for sunny California, but Stiles didn't care as he padded down the well worn trail. The wolf ran ahead of him and sniffed things before he circled back and ran alongside him for a few minutes. He then proceeded to pace next to him and up his pace every few minutes, which caused Stiles to do the same. He knew that he was pushing his usual pace, but he couldn't find it in himself to care as he passed the sign that let him know that he had entered the Preserve. He'd make a run by the old Hale house, then loop back around to the industrial district to head to the loft. They'd been trying to rebuild the Hale house for a while, but things kept getting in the way. Now that it had been quiet for a few months, renovations were back on, and he wanted to see the latest developments.

The woods were relatively quiet as he made his way through them, the occasional bird chirped and he heard a squirrel chatter above him. It was a calm run, nothing too strenuous or nerve wracking, and he rather enjoyed having the wolf with him. The house came into view presently, the one charred structure was gone, replaced with the beginnings of a beautiful Edwardian style home. The walls were up and the siding was going on soon, after which the roofers would come in and finish up. There were whisperings among the Pack of group furniture shopping. There were a few things in storage somewhere in New York that Derek wanted to go back and retrieve, and that was exciting, yet sobering, for everyone. “You remember what it looked like before?” he asked softly as they approached the house. The wolf huffed and trotted forward to pee on the bottom step. “Hey! Come on, man, not cool!” he laughed as he circled the house slowly.

There was a wrap around porch that opened into the backyard, which right now was just churned up earth, but would soon be covered in grass. In the back corner near the forest Stiles was promised space for an herb garden. Derek had nixed a zip line in favor of a tire swing. Set apart from the rest of the yard was an untouched patch of earth, from experience Stiles knew that it was where Laura was buried. Derek had decided to start a cemetery for the Pack, where he also laid Erica and Boyd to rest years ago. They all had beautiful headstones, personally carved by Derek's claws. A sprig of wolfsbane was planted above each grave. The wolf whined as he rounded them, then sat down next to Stiles as he paused there. “You miss them, too, huh? They were pretty great, while they were around. Even if Erica did bash me in the head. And Boyd just kind of stared at me. I miss them.”

“You're not the only one,” came a voice from behind him. Stiles jumped and flailed as Derek appeared next to him. “Christ, how can you still do that when you're not even wolfy?” he asked with a half hearted glare as the wolf jumped on Derek. Derek just shook his head.

“I'm not as loud as you are. Ever.” Stiles just nodded and glanced back at the house.

“It's coming together.”

“It is.”

“Did you drive here?”

“I walked. It's different as a human.” Stiles gave a slight smile.

“Well, I was going to finish my run. You're welcome to join us, if you want,” he said as he gestured to the wolf. “He really likes it.” Derek paused, and the wolf huffed at him. “Haha, he wants you to. Come on, Derek, it'll be fun! See if your stamina is still the same,” he teased as he took off. The wolf barked happily and bolted as well, he passes Stiles in a few strides. He heard a huff and then footsteps behind him and Stiles laughed as he kept a few steps ahead of Derek the entire way out of the Preserve.

---

“Come on, dude, you'll be fine, just breathe,” Stiles muttered as he pushed a glass of water towards the ex-werewolf. “Wolf you seemed to like it.”

“I like running when he's with me,” Derek grumbled around the water in his mouth.

“He was with you. On the trail, at least.” Derek snorted at Stiles' grin as Wolf-Derek nudged him behind the knees. Stiles dropped down to scratch him behind the ears, flopping them back and forth over his head as his jowls flapped. “Aren't you a good boy?” Stiles murmured as he pressed his face into the fur of Wolf-Derek's neck.

“I, uh, I'm impressed with you,” Derek blurted from above them. Stiles looked up at him in shock.

“What?”

“I mean, with the running. We're pretty evenly matched when I don't have superpowers,” Derek said quietly.

“I have been training,” Stiles snorted. “Mostly for you guys.”

“What do you mean?” Derek asked, cocking his head like he did when he still had his wolf.

“Duh, I've been running. Going to the range with my dad. Hand to hand stuff with Chris. Magic with Deaton. So I'm not the weak link,” Stiles shrugged as he ducked his head into Wolf-Derek's fur. A warm hand landed on his shoulder and pulled Stiles' upper torso away and used his other hand to turn his face towards him.

“Stiles.”

“What?” he huffed as his eyes darted down to Wolf-Derek, who licked Derek's hand and consequently, Stiles' face.

“You're not a weak link. You're not weak,” Derek said.

“What about when Gerard beat me up? When Scott had to pull us out of the pool? Or when you make me stay behind when you're going to fight the Alpha Pack?” Stiles asked as he pulled his face away from Derek's hand. Derek closed his fist as the skin around his eyes tightened.

“I just don't want you to get hurt.”

“I'm a part of your Pack, Derek,” the younger man argued. “Aren't I?” Derek squeezed the shoulder still under his other hand, his thumb pressed against the hollow of Stiles' collarbone.

“You are. One of the most important members of it.”

“I can't be. I'm just a human.” Derek crouched down in front of Stiles and his wolf before he settled in front of them.

“There are humans in a lot of packs. But usually the strongest packs are the ones with humans. I have three humans and a banshee in my pack, Stiles.”

“That means you're a strong pack? Because you have fleshy bits?” Stiles asked in an attempt at humor. Derek took a moment to collect his thoughts before nodding.

“Humans help keep our wolves under control. We are stronger as a unit because, once we've bonded to you, we, and our wolves, will fight harder and longer to keep you safe. What others see as a weakness my family has always seen as a strength.” Stiles blinked, then grinned.

“I think that's the most you've said to me ever.”

“No, it's not. We talked about adoption and Marvel for three hours one time,” Derek snorted as he slid his hand down Stiles' arm and into his wolf's fur. Stiles' didn't even flinch, seemed to lean into it fractionally.

“Well, yeah, but this is important stuff!” Derek raised a brow.

“Are you telling me that adoption and Marvel aren't important to you?” It was so different talking to Stiles when he couldn't rely on anything except his words and body language. There was no scent to tip him off to the underlying emotions, no heartbeat to give away a lie, nothing to give away any more than what Stiles was willing to tell.

“No, that's all important, but this is for the Pack! Anything concerning the Pack is like, my number one priority.” Stiles' knee knocked against Derek's before he stretched his legs out in front of him, thighs pressed against Derek's shins. Derek didn't pull away, just stared at Stiles for a long time. “What, dude? Did wolf you get slobber on me or something?”

“No.”

“Then what's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong.”

“You're human, dude, that's a little wrong. Not that I'm saying human you is a bad thing!” he hastened to say. “I just mean that,” he paused to catch his thoughts. “You're my Sourwolf, you know? You being a werewolf is totally cool and that's just who you are to me. Even if you never become one again I'll still think of you as a werewolf, because that's how you were born and that's what you've been, and I'm guessing that you'll always want to be a werewolf, right? So yeah, this is a little awkward,” he said as he stood up quickly. “I'm just trying to say that you're right, there's nothing wrong with you, because you're pretty awesome no matter what.”

Derek sat in silence as he watched Stiles stand, face open and soft in a way that Stiles hadn't seen before. The lines in his face seemed less severe and his lips were slightly parted. “I...I don't understand?” Stiles flushed lightly and sighed.

“I thought I was pretty clear,” he said as he bent over to press his lips to Derek's. A startled whine came from both Derek and the wolf, and Stiles pulled back. “I'm sorry, I didn't ask. That was stupid,” he muttered as he pulled away to step back. A hand caught him around the back one thigh and the other caught his wrist. Stiles looked down at Derek with a confused smile. Derek pulled him down and into another kiss, this one at the right angle and all parties actively involved. Stiles pulled away for air a few moments later and grinned down at the still sitting Derek. “I am so in love with you, dude, you have no idea.”

“How long?” Derek croaked as he looked up into the bright whiskey eyes of his mate. Stiles smiled and stroked his fingers across Derek's stubbled cheeks and chin.

“I dunno. Probably around the end of sophomore year. I just wanted to help you. I wanted you,” he said as he ducked his head to kiss Derek again. It was Derek who pulled back this time.

“I think I've loved you since you kept me from drowning.”

“Scott saved you,” Stiles replied with a frown. Derek shook his head.

“I would have been dead long before Scott showed up if it wasn't for you. You kept me above water, you kept me alive. And I love you for it.” There was a happy bark from behind them before a bright light filled the room. The men clung to each other as they squeezed their eyes shut, and in an instant the light was gone.

“What was that?” Stiles asked. “Does that mean you're wolfy again?” He glanced around the room, but saw no trace of Wolf-Derek. He turned back to the real one, who was frozen where Stiles had left him. “Derek? Hey, Derek, come on wake up!” Stiles muttered as he shook the werewolf. When he got no answer, and slapping did him no good, Stiles called Deaton.

“Stiles?”

“Doc! Derek got his wolf back but now it's like he's in some sort of trance thing!” Stiles huffed into the phone as he stared at his unmoving lover. Deaton hummed over the phone before he replied.

“Derek and his wolf were separated for a few days, correct?” Stiles affirmed. “Then it is possible that he could be like this for a few hours. It isn't harmful, it's him and his wolf becoming one again. Sharing experiences and knowledge.”

“Uh, doc? You don't think that it transfers conversations verbatim, does it?” Deaton gave a soft laugh.

“You will have to tell me, Mr. Stilinski. Perhaps it would be good if you moved Derek to a more comfortable location? I wish you both the best.” The vet hung up before Stiles could get anything else out, and he he sighed before looking at Derek on the floor.

“You think I can move your muscle butt myself? Probably not.” But he tried anyway, and after much struggle, managed to heave Derek onto the bed. “You're even heavier now, dude.”

Stiles sank onto the bed next to Derek's sleeping form and sat against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of his body, pressed against Derek's side. He pulled up his best references on his phone and skimmed everything he could that might have anything to do with Derek's condition. Eventually Derek began to move and Stiles set his phone on his bedside table.

“Oh God,” were the first words out of Derek mouth. Stiles winced and kept his mouth shut. “Stiles?”

“That's me,” he said.

“What the Hell.”

“That's a strangely accurate statement about the last few days,” Stiles said as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry about all that.”

“About what?” Derek asked, rubbing his side where Stiles had been pressed against him.

“Uh, anything that you may have seen or heard?”

“Was it true?” he asked as he rolled over onto his back, looking up at Stiles, who was leaning against the headboard.

“I guess? I don't really know what you're talking about. I didn't lie to wolf you at all, if that's what you mean.”

“That's what I mean. You didn't lie to me because you didn't think I would know?”

Stiles winced and pulled at the leg of his jeans. “Uh, yeah, that's pretty much why.”

“You wouldn't want me to actually talk to you about those things, would you?” he asked. “You're generally just growly and moody in my presence most of the time.”

Derek sighed and pressed his head farther back into the pillow. “I didn't want to embarrass myself,” he muttered. “I may be Alpha but I'm not immune to rejection.”

“Dude, I wouldn't have—wait, rejected you? What do you mean? Were you actually in love with me?” he questioned, rolling onto his side to face the older man. “Or is this more like an “I know what you think about me so now I'm attracted to you solely for that reason” kind of thing? Because I'm not really into that, I'm totally a commitment kind of guy, just so you know. So if you wanna hit it and quit it you can forget it, Derek Hale.”

“I think I want to kiss you again.”

Stiles stared down at the stubbly face of the recently re-put together werewolf with pursed lips and questioning eyes. “You're serious?”

“If you don't get down here in five seconds I'm rescinding my offer,” Derek growled, eyes glowing red momentarily. Stiles grinned and ducked his head, hand twisted in the fabric of Derek's shirt as he peppered dry kisses across his chin and cheeks.

“You know, I'm kinda glad this happened,” Stiles said as he pulled away and settled his body half on top of Derek's. “I don't think I would have told you I loved you for a long time, if ever.” Derek gave him a hurt look and Stiles pinched his side. “Hey, you weren't giving me many clues, man. You could have said something.”

“You're better with words,” Derek replied, pinching him back.

Stiles squirmed away with a laugh.

“Yeah, but you're the Alpha,” he teased.