The funeral was 2 weeks after Stiles' suicide.

A lot of people showed up, more so than Derek expected. From Isaac, he'd gotten the impression not a lot of people really liked Stiles, just tolerated him.

Guilt.

Derek could relate to that, after seeing Stiles' dead boy with that small smile he'd felt sick and overwhelmed with the urge to apologise over and over for not being nicer to him or telling him how he felt or for listening to him more. Instead he took his phone and hurriedly dialled 911, dropping the phone in his haste to type the numbers in fast enough even though from his werewolf senses that Stiles was dead.

Derek had, in fact, been over to get Stiles to research something for him. And after reading Stiles' letter, seeing the you're official researcher for the pack now he had wrote for Lydia, Derek had nearly ripped the paper in anger. Not anger at Stiles, but for himself. That's all Stiles thought he was, a researcher for the pack but he was more than that. So much more and Derek could have kicked himself for not making sure Stiles didn't know that.

From his position at the back of the church, he could see his pack who were all seated at the front, over the crowd. The priest was talking something Derek wasn't listening to. He was focusing on his pack, who were radiating pain and loss. The whole place smelt of it.

Pain. Grief. Despair.

It made bile raise in Derek's throat, but he swallowed it down. From here, he could see Allison leaning her head on Scott's shoulder, crying quietly. The boy was openly crying and sobbing, clutching the hand of Isaac who wasn't showing any obvious signs of grief but kind of curled in on himself. Boyd sat next to Isaac, sitting straight and forward, stoic as ever but Derek could see his hands curled into tight fists in his lap. Lydia was staring straight ahead, tissue in hand and wiping away tears discreetly.

"Now, the Sherriff would like to say a few words." The priest said, moving from his stand to allow John to take his place. The man looked terrible. His eyes were red and looked sore, and he stunk of alcohol.

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat before beginning to speak: "Thank you all for coming today. I-Stiles was a special boy. He was bright, talkative and so damn hyperactive it was hard to keep up with him sometimes," a few people in the crowd laughed along with the Sherriff whose eyes had filled with tears. Derek himself smiled a little in agreement. "He was always looking out for people, even me. He'd come down to the station to check on me, make sure I was eating right and he'd never let it go, no matter what I said. I'd always grumble and complain but I was so proud of him and I never got to tell him that. Always thought I'd have more time to tell him," a tear fell down Johns' cheek. "Stiles will never be forgotten. I-I'll live with this guilt until the day I die, I failed my son. But I know- I know – that right now, he's with his mom, looking down at us today and that, that fills me with peace." Everyone clapped, most wiping away tears. The priest moved back to his spot.

"Next, Scott McCall would like to say something." He said.

Scott stood up and slowly made his way up the podium. "Stiles is-was my best friend; my brother. I haven't been a good friend lately, always preoccupied with something or someone and that was wrong. I didn't notice that something was wrong and I'm kicking myself for it. Stiles wasn't like that; he'd put others before himself and he'd always notice if you were down or upset and he'd try his best to help. Stiles left a note and in it, it said," Scott took a shaky breath. "It said 'I know you'll think this was your fault; try to blame yourself in some way. Don't.' and I remember thinking, through the confusion and tears that even though he was about to die; about to take his life he was still thinking about others." Maybe Derek should have been surprised that Stiles had wrote that for Scott, but he wasn't. It was so typically Stiles that he didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. "Stiles thought he was no one, and that was the furthest thing from the truth. He was the glue that kept everyone together; the one who knew everything and the one you could go to for anything. In our group, we had this joke that he was the pack mom; he'd help us with homework, me especially," Scott smiled fondly in memory. "And he'd always be there if you wanted to talk or needed a shoulder to cry on. Everyone loved Stiles; it was impossible not to. No one could replace him, not ever." A tear fell as he finished his speech and he wiped it away quickly as he went back to his seat.

There was a pregnant silence.

"Well-" the priest cleared his throat. "Would anyone else like to say anything?"

Derek itched. Should he go up and say something? As Alpha, it'd be the right thing to do; the proper thing to do. No. Derek couldn't do it. He couldn't go up in front of all those people and talk about Stiles to them. He just couldn't. Suddenly it was all too much. He had to get out of there. Thankful he was at the back, Derek quietly slipped out and ran straight into his uncle.

"Peter?" Derek asked, confused. What the hell was he doing here?

Peter held up a bouquet of flowers; Derek recognised Anemone flowers, white lilies, Orchids and a single black rose. "I came to pay my respects." He replied stiffly.

"Why?"

"Stiles was a fun human. Not like the others." Peter finished the conversation by walking away, creeping his way into the church.

Derek left quickly, he couldn't take much more of this.

It took a week until Derek could go to visit Stiles' grave. Every time he thought about it, he felt sick and got a little dizzy.

When he arrived at the cemetery, he sat in front of the gravestone. It read:

Here lies Genim Stilinski

1997-2013

Loving son and friend

Gone but never forgotten

Derek sat there for what felt like a long time but was actually 10 minutes before he opened his mouth and began to talk. "I'm sorry it's took me so long to see you. And I'm sorry I walked out during your funeral but it was too hard. I couldn't stand there and listen to them talk about you like you were dead- even though you are. Why did you do that, Stiles? Why? Didn't you know how it would affect everyone? Affect me? I guess you wouldn't. I was never good at expressing my feelings; not after Paige and Kate. You remind me of Paige. She was feisty and never backed down, like you. She died in my arms and it was my fault. I let Kate in and she burned my family alive, which was my fault to. I-I liked you, but I couldn't hurt you. Everyone I love gets hurt…" Derek trailed off sadly.

"It's hard to believe you're not here anymore. I'll find a book and I'll think 'I must show Stiles this; he'll love it,' and then I remember you're gone… and I just can't do it. I can't think about you being dead and that I can't go to your place when I miss you with the excuse of research or push you against something just so I can touch you. Dammit, Stiles, why would you do that?" Derek ran his fingers through his hair and pulled with frustration. "You were fucking perfect. So perfect it almost hurt and you went and- I found you, you know. I couldn't believe it at first. I thought you were sleeping, fought so hard to believe you were sleeping but I knew. How could you? How am I supposed to go on without you here?" Tears were falling from his eyes but Derek couldn't be bothered to wipe them away. He was sobbing quietly and he knew this would be the only time he'd allow himself to this. After, he'd have to be strong for his pack.

But just as he thought that, a hand was on his shoulder and suddenly his pack was sitting around him, crying with him. Surrounded by his pack, Derek threw his head back and howled. It was chilling and heart-breaking. Goosebumps raised on the arms of everyone who heard it. His pack followed suit, howling in unison.

After they'd quietened and silence has fallen, Derek swore he heard a small howl back. And Derek knew Stiles was still with him, and he always will be.

Got a few requests for this and I thought "why not?" *shrugs* A big thank you to everyone who reviewed No One, I smiled for at least an hour after reading each one. So yeah, thanks for reading. Bye now! Until next time. x