In the dead of night, amongst the darkened skies and thick foliage, Scott and Stiles wandered aimlessly – looking for a single place they'd never hoped to find. They had been trudging through the sticky mud for hours and it was wearing a bit thin.

"Who lives out here anyways?" Stiles grabbed a thin tree for support as he walked, "Whotruly chooses to live out here?"

"Derek apparently." Scott solemnly replied, eying his best friend as he caught his breath; his warm breath ascending into the cold night air like a puff of white smoke.

"This better be the best damn house I've ever been too," Stiles grumbled as he pushed of the tree and moved forward, "Like a mix between the Playboy mansion and –"

"Wait," Scott grabbed Stile's slim shoulder, "This way."

He'd picked up Derek's familiar scent; an odd mix off burned wood and Axe Body Spray. He never really understood… but that didn't matter now. All that mattered was they were going to finally see where this mysterious man spent his nights. Maybe that would help answer some of their outstanding questions Derek seemed to continuously avoid.

Stiles and Scott approached an opening in the brush, perched in the middle of which was a house that had seen better days,way better days. It was clearly apparent to both boys that there had been a fire here. The house was a mix between the colors of black and grey, the wood so weak that it was crumbling in multiple places. The ceiling was completely caved in, with the exception of one small corner. Most of the walls and windows were long gone. Scott didn't know much about architecture – but it seemed like some kind of miracle that this house, if you could call it that, was still standing.

"No." Stiles demanded before putting crossing his arms before shaking his head, "Nope. Nah. No."

Scott moved forward, "No, this is definitely the place."

Stiles shuffled awkwardly behind, tripping over something lightly before regaining his footing. "You mean to tell me that this is where Derek has been living. This burnt down shack; this pile of wood on a foundation; this Orphanage for sad British children. "

"Well," Scott pointed to the familiar black Dodge Charger that sat in a makeshift driveway, "That is his car."

Stiles made a noise of disgust before shaking his head and following Scott to the front door. As they approached closer to the house, it appeared to get even crappier… if that was even possible. The thought of Derek squatting in this hobble was making Scott start to judge his character, maybe it explained why he was so pissed all of the time. Scott put his right hand in a fist and prepared to knock, needing some serious answers for this. But Stiles quipped in to quickly interrupt,

"You're knocking? Seriously." He waved his arm to the hole in wall next to the oddly functioning front door. A hole that was big enough for them to both walk in side by side.

"It's still a house."

"Is it?"

"Can I help you?" Derek popped his head out of one of the holes in the house to the right of where the two curious boys stood. Stiles threw Scott a look of complete and total disbelief before shaking his head and running a hand through his dark hair.

"Well you can start by explaining what the hell is going on with this house." Stiles demanded.

"What about it?" Derek asked as he moved back in. He had taken upon himself to bring his head back through the hole of the crumbling wall to come and unlock the front door.

"He just unlocked the door." Stiles said more to himself than anyone else, "He unlocked the door..." He threw his hands up in utter shock – he'd now seen everything. And he thought he'd seen everything when he saw that squirrel waterskiing on YouTube.

"Come in," Derek motioned with a wave of his hand, holding the door open. Stiles had decided it was his civic duty to mankind to show Derek that the door was not necessary. He took a large step and walked through large opening in the wall.

Derek instantly changed moods, his eyes narrowing in Stiles' general direct. Derek moved forward, planting his large hand on Stiles' chest.

"Use. The. Door."

"But –"

Derek gave him a shove, causing him to stumble back on to the dirt outside. Stiles stood for a moment in disbelief, contemplating using one of the many other holes in the walls to enter the house. But then he decided against it, submitted, and walked through the front door. Derek shut it after him, snapping the lock back in place.

"What." Stiles breathed out before shaking his head once more before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So, you found me." Derek said lightly before leaning up against one of the walls in the room that may have been the foyer at some point. "What do you need?"

"We need –"Scott started, planning on completely skipping over the part about Derek's house and going into the real reason they came here. Stiles couldn't have that. He wouldn't be able to sleep at night, eat, or let alone live a functioning life until he knew what was going on with this house.

"Wait," Stiles stopped his best friend before moving into the next room over, "What… How… Why." He took a deep breath, he couldn't even muster up a sentence to ask about the house. "This house."

"Why do I live here?" Derek asking, shooting up a thick dark eyebrow. "This is my house. I couldn't much leave it behind."

"Leave it behind?!" Stiles questioned before spinning around the main room, "There is nothing to leave behind. What do you do when it rains?"

"I stand in that corner."

Derek pointed to the one corner in the house that had a complete ceiling; which was only big enough for one person to stand under. Stiles was beginning to think this was a massive joke. A complete a total made up story to throw Scott and himself off from the real reason they were here. It had to be.

"It rained for 5 days straight last week…" Scott finally quipped in, his curiosity getting the best of him. Stiles gave him an appreciative jester with his hands before his dark brown eyes settled back on Derek, yearning for a response.

"Yes – I stood there for five days."

"What." Stiles laughed before shaking his head, "You stood there for five days."

"Yes?" Derek replied with a question, as if Stiles response was irrational. Stiles shook his head again before continuing his line of thought,

"This is a joke. It's not like you don't have money. Your car is worth at least – at least $20,000."

"No," Derek shook his head, "You're right. Money isn't a problem."

"Then why, for the love of all that is holy, do you live in a house where you have to stand in a corner for five days when it rains." Stiles pushed on, trying to get anything out of Derek that would close this mystery.

"Because it's my house…" Derek said, giving them a look of confusion. "I don't understand the issue here."

"Do you want me to list them?" Stiles asked.

"You're being quite a rude house guest right now Stiles," Derek replied with a huff. He moved from the wall he was leaning on to join them in the main room.

"That would be true – if this was a house." Stiles countered.

"I think you two should go," Derek sighed before shaking his head, "To disgrace a man's house is to disgrace the man himself."

"What?" Scott asked, as confused if not more confused than Stiles at this point.

"Please leave," Derek walked towards the door. He stopped and turned the lock before opening it.

"I just can't," Stiles whispered to Scott as the moved towards the door, "I can't handle this."

"And please, next time you decide to come over, wipe your feet before you enter." Derek sighed again, his eyes scanning the black and charred floor boards. Stiles bit his fist, to avoid saying anything else.

Scott gave Derek a nod as they passed through the door, walking out into the night once more. Derek shut the door, snapped the lock, and walked into the main room. Stiles watched the grown man through the many holes and cracks in the walls. He watched him move into the rain corner and stand there, putting his head into his hands.

"It's not even raining!" Stiles whispered harshly.

"I think we really hurt his feelings…" Scott replied before shaking his head, "We need to apologize. Tell him his house is … nice…"

"You and I both know I don't like lying to anyone other than my dad," Stiles replied before turning on his heels, "Can we please just go? This place is making my brain hurt."

"Yeah," Scott replied with a huff of breath, "Let's go."

And together, the boys moved back into the woods. Both more confused now than they were when the first started their journey. And they knew, deep down in the depths of their souls- that this was one mystery in Beacon Hills that not even the greatest minds could solve.

Scott gave his disappointed friend a pat on the shoulder. And like a true leader of the pack, provided hope in a place that there was none. Like a candle in a place of total darkness.

"Maybe someday Stiles," He continued patting his shoulder, "Maybe someday we will know the truth."

And at least, Stiles could hold on to that.