I really hope people like this. I'm still rather new to Teen Wolf, as I have just finished the second season. Thanks to Hurricane Sandy, I got to watch about twenty episodes of Teen Wolf and got addicted. This is STEREK meaning BOY/BOY, people. Don't like, don't read. Constructive critisism is welcome, as well as praise obviously;) ENJOY!

Keep Calm and Wolf On

Chapter One: Everyone Loves (Hates) Me

Derek Hale grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a lamp, and chucked it at the wall adjacent him. Anger boiled up in his veins and his claws extended. He shook with rage as his uncle, Peter Hale, watched on.

"You know they're coming. And they know where you live," Peter said, only half paying attention to Derek's hissy fit. "Why aren't you running?"

"You know why, Peter!" Derek shouted, the crumbling house's ashy walls shaking. "You know that once you start running, you can't stop. You know I told Boyd and Erica that, and now…"

"Now they're either dead because the Alpha pack killed them, or they died running. Either way, you couldn't have really thought they'd survive on their own. They were Omegas the minute they left you," Peter explained lightly. His head cocked to one side. "Well, you'd better put a shirt on and get this place cleaned up. We have company."

"Alphas?" Derek asked as he quickly threw on a dark grey t-shirt.

"No. Four teenaged lax bros," Peter smiled. "Lydia's teaching me slang. Reluctantly, perhaps, but I'm learning fast."

Derek rolled his eyes irritably. He padded quietly to the front door of the charred foyer and swung the door open to reveal Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey, and Scott McCall.

"What?" Derek snarled, and he swore he heard Jackson whimper in fear. Derek's lips twitched at the corners.

"I smell food, do you have food?" Stiles asked, pushing his way past Derek, who tipped his head, watching the boy pass him in a confused daze.

"It smells like a barbeque," Stiles mused.

"That's because the place burned down idiot," Jackson hissed, trying to make up for the pitiful sound he made when Derek answered the door.

"Oh, yeah…" Stiles muttered. "Whoops."

"Stiles, good to see you," Peter grinned.

"Ah, yeah, it's good to see…uh…myself… too. Yeah," Stiles mumbled, looking away from Peter carefully. Ever since Peter had offered Stiles the bite, he'd been wary of the older Hale man.

Isaac followed Jackson and Stiles' footsteps into the house and perched himself on the banister. He was silent, smiling softly at Stiles' jokes and Derek's annoyed banter. Scott talked quietly with Peter until another knock interrupted them.

"I GOT IT!" Stiles exclaimed. He scrambled to the door, where Isaac had already opened the door, looking at the porch with wide eyes and mouth agape.

On the porch were the bloodied bodies of Erica and Boyd. They were breathing, but obviously in pain.

"Alphas. They left us here," Erica gritted out, panting wildly.

With the help of Scott and Jackson, the boys carried the two injured werewolves into the house, laying them in the middle of the parlour.

"I think I'm going to take something from Stiles' book and say, 'I told you so' quite obnoxiously," Derek stated. "So… I TOLD YOU SO!"

"That's not very obnoxious, that's just kinda shouty," Stiles pointed out. "But I'm honoured that you tried to reciprocate the effect of my 'I told you so' on Erica and Boyd."

Derek growled at Stiles, who put his hands up defensively.

"Down, puppy," Stiles reprimanded. Peter snickered and Derek shot him an exasperated look.

Isaac was smirking at Stiles, who grinned back as if they had just shared a hilarious joke. Derek felt a tug in his stomach. Something like jealousy. He shook his head and grabbed Stiles' arm, pulling down hard, but not hard enough to break the boy's arm. Stiles collapsed on the floor and grumbled something none too dulcet.

Isaac helped Stiles up, who was still groaning about his arm or something stupid. Derek sneered at him. Stiles stuck out his tongue and Derek had to resist the urge to repeat the action.

"What are you four doing here anyway?" Derek huffed, slumping against the wall.

"Why shouldn't we be?" Stiles asked, shrugging.

"I hate to agree with Stilinski, but we are pack members. Except Stiles," Jackson stated.

"I think that might actually be the first time you've ever said my first name and not called me 'Stilinski' or, 'that weird kid'," Stiles muttered. Erica laughed.

"It's hard not to mock you, Stiles," she grinned. "You're like the pack baby."

"Or it's mother," Isaac stated. "He basically keeps us all sane."

"It's true," Scott sighed. "I dunno where I'd be without this dude."

"As much as I'd love to gush about how awesome Stiles is," Derek interrupted, "I think we need to train for a while. Erica, Boyd, you two can relax for a while. Join us outside when you feel up to it. So, you have thirty minutes to feel better."

The pack groaned.

"Peter, watch over Erica and Boyd while I take the others out for a run. Stiles, go home," Derek smiled mockingly.

Silence fell over the pack and the werewolves that weren't injured left, leaving Stiles alone with Erica, Boyd, and Peter.

"He hates me," Stiles said quietly, sitting on the worn couch across from Peter.

"No, he just doesn't want to admit how much he needs you," Peter explained with a small grin. "He's stubborn that way. He wants everyone to love him like they love you."

Stiles smiled. "Thanks, Peter."

"You sure you don't want the bite, kiddo?" Peter asked again. Stiles tensed.

"I can't say I don't. But, after everything that happened, I think it'll just make things more complicated," Stiles murmured.

"You're probably right. But, maybe for once you could do something just for you," Erica suggested.

"No. I can't. My dad needs me to be… well, human. I can't leave him every full moon. If I become a werewolf, I will have to face the same problems that you guys do, and if something happens to my dad, I don't know what I would do," Stiles said, standing. "I should go home, like Derek said."

Stiles slunk off, making his way to his Jeep in the yard in front of the Hale house. He spotted Scott, Jackson and Isaac all sparring, claws extended, but not completely wolfed out. Jackson was bleeding in several places, claw marks covering his naked torso, sweat shining on his forehead and across his chest. Not that Stiles was looking. Nope.

Isaac was grinning smarmily, Scott scrunching his eyebrows in the way he always did when he was focused. It must have been two against one, Isaac and Scott versus Jackson. Derek was barking orders at Jackson, who seemed to shake with rage and the desire to please his Alpha.

Stiles was halfway to his Jeep when he heard his name. when he looked over Derek was holding Jackson in a head lock, teaching him the proper way to get out. Scott and Isaac were walking over to the dark-haired human.

"Where are you going?" Scott asked, tilting his head in a puppyish way.

"Home. Derek doesn't really need me here, so I'm just gonna get started on the summer assignments we got," Stiles said with a small smile.

"Everyone knows you already finished those," Scott said quietly. "You okay, dude?"

"Fine. Go back and train. Derek looks pissed. Of course, he pretty much always looks that way," Stiles said.

Scott chuckled and left, heading back to Derek.

"I know what you feel. Lonely. Mad. Wondering if the next battle we have will be your last. I also know that you're tired of being the last one to know about pack things. You want to be like us, but you know Derek won't let you," Isaac stated.

"You're right, I do think those things," Stiles sighed, running a hand over his buzzed hair. "But you forgot one thing."

"What is that?"

"It could be worse for me," Stiles said with a weak grin. He hopped in his Jeep and drove away.

He parked at the curb of the sidewalk in front of his house and jumped out. His father's police car wasn't there, which wasn't unusual, but a familiar black Mustang was there in his driveway.

"Why are you here, Derek?" Stiles grumbled, mostly to himself, but he knew Derek would hear him. Supernatural werewolf powers seemed to entitle the pack to listen in on any conversation.

Stiles stepped into his house, shutting the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes. He could feel Derek's eyes on the back of his neck. He shuddered from a blast of icy anticipation rushing up his spine.

"Why did you leave?" Derek's voice asked. Stiles turned to face blood red eyes, Derek's Alpha form.

"Because you told me to," Stiles said.

"You never do anything I tell you to do," Derek said with an incredulous arch of his eyebrow. "Why did you leave?"

Stiles sighed. He shrugged and tried to pass Derek, but the older man's arm whipped out and caught Stiles in the middle of his chest.

Stiles went ridged as Derek circled him.

Like a wolf circling its prey, Stiles thought, his breath leaving his lungs in a gasp of realization.

"You think I'm going to hurt you." It wasn't a question. Derek knew exactly what he was saying, and what Stiles was feeling. Anxiety probably radiated off him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Stiles," Derek said. Something in his voice had changed and Stiles looked up at the taller man, whose hand had suddenly found itself on Stiles' shoulder. "You want the bite, don't you?"

Stiles yanked his shoulder away. "No. I don't want it."

Derek smiled condescendingly. "Yes you do. You're heart—"

"I know. My heart skipped a beat. Peter already told me that," Stiles grumbled.

"Peter?" Derek growled. "Peter tried to bite you?"

"When he was the Alpha and going on his crazy killing sprees, yes. He was trying to repay me," Stiles muttered.

"Repay you for what?" Derek snarled.

"For helping him find Scott. And you. I had to or he would've killed me and Lydia and probably my dad, too."

Derek paced around the foyer. "I know you wouldn't do it on purpose."

"It's funny 'cause you always act like I did something stupid, when in fact, I'm usually saving your stupid werewolf ass," Stiles snapped.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. "Not always."

"Yes I do! I'm constantly helping—"

"I mean," Derek cut in sharply, "that I don't always think you do stupid things. You're usually the only level-headed one when something goes wrong."

Stiles opened and closed his mouth a couple times. "I— thanks."

"Just don't expect me to say that ever again," Derek grinned. "It took a lot of energy to conjure that statement and still have my badass, brooding persona."

Stiles chuckled, running his hand over his hair. He heard brakes squeaking on the pavement outside.

"It's probably my dad, you should go," Stiles said, managing to keep his hands at his side even though they were itching to shove Derek out the back door.

Derek shrugged. "Technically, I'm not an alleged murderer anymore, so… no thanks. I think I'll stay here with you. Plus I can smell Scott and Isaac coming. We'll have a nice big dinner with your dad."

"What I meant was, 'please leave or I'll shoot you myself'," Stiles said, forgetting politeness and shooing Derek out the back.

"Fine. Bye, Stiles," Derek huffed, leaping out the back door just as the front door opened with a click.

"Stiles?" Sheriff Stilinski called.

"In the dining room, Dad," Stiles called, grabbing his Chemistry book and pretended to read from it.

"Ah, still doing your summer assignments? I thought you'd have had it done by now. Teacher gave you more than usual?" Mr. Stilinski asked, grabbing a glass and filling it with water from the tap.

"Ah, yeah. Mr. Harris hasn't exactly forgotten that time that you kinda arrested him," Stiles muttered with a wry grin.

"Oh, well, oops," Mr. Stilinski shrugged, taking a gulp of water. "Are you almost done? I was thinking we could watch that movie you were talking about. The Revengers?"

"Avengers, Dad, but you're close enough!" Stiles said grinning. "I'm basically done. It was just reading stuff. like, eight chapters , you know."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Mr. Harris had gone a little overboard with their summer assignment, but Stiles had already finished all his summer work in the first week.

"Alright, you get the popcorn, I'll get the M&M's," the Sheriff smiled.

Ringing filled the room and Mr. Stilinski checked his pocket. He answered.

"Sheriff Stilinski… yes… okay… do you know who? Not yet… no…"

Stiles waited for the impending, 'be right there'. It always came sooner rather than later.

"Alright, I'll be right there," Sheriff Stilinski sighed, hanging up. "That was Angela from the station. There was an accident on the highway. I'll call you if I get the chance to come home, okay, kid?"

"Yeah, fine," Stiles mumbled, dropping the popcorn packet back in the pantry.

"I'm real sorry, kiddo. I'll—"

"—make it up to you. I know, Dad. See you tomorrow," Stiles said.

Sheriff Stilinski left with a sigh. The minute the door closed behind his father, Stiles let the tears fall. Every night. Same thing happened. There was an accident, a murder, homicide, something.

"When did this town get so exciting?" Stiles sighed, chuckling dryly to himself.

"Tell me about it," Derek's voice moaned.

Stiles shook his head. Of course Derek would stay right outside his back door and come right back in after Stiles' dad left.

"Leave me alone, Derek," Stiles hissed, walking away from the older man's voice and scrambling up the stairs. He slammed the door to his room and slid down the carpeted floor. He sobbed quietly, his head in his hands, his lips trembling with the effort to keep quiet.

Derek's head hung down, his shin touching his chest as he listened to Stiles' heartbreaking sobs. He knew the boy wanted to be alone, but he didn't want to leave.

Upstairs, Stiles was searching for his phone. He found that he had one text message from Scott.

'Hey, man, Allison wanted to talk to me. Wish me luck! We can do a Halo marathon tomorrow or something, okay? Later!'

With a gut-wrenching sob, or maybe it was a shriek, Stiles hurled his phone at the wall. He heard the screen crack, but he felt too angry to care. He was alone. Scott had Allison, Lydia had Jackson, his dad had work, even Derek had Isaac and Peter, possibly even Erica and Boyd. He was just the little human tag-along. He was just the useless, annoying, ADD and hyperactive little pisser who decided to follow at the heels of Scott and Lydia and, fuck, even Derek.

Stiles cried. He cried until his heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest. He cried like it was the day his mother died. Sobbed until his eyes were red-rimmed and lifeless.

Downstairs, Derek waited until the sobs tapered off. Till he could hear Stiles' steady heartbeat in his head, telling him the younger boy was fast asleep. Only then did he venture upstairs, finding Stiles in a huddled heap next to the door, his cheeks tear-stained and blotchy. He picked up the boy carefully, paused as Stiles nuzzled closer to his body, and set the teenager on his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

He didn't leave until he heard the Sheriff return home at four in the morning.