Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. If I did, Stiles would be the main character, not Scott.
A/N: Okay, this story had started out being something to keep me entertained at work but because of my friend Riina, it grew a bit and now it's a ten thousand word story. No Regrets. I will be posting this in two parts and will be updating the second part in two days time or so. Warnings for this fic are mostly some self-harm and the fact that Stiles is crazy. Also, this will be a Derek/Stiles fic. Also, as Stiles' dad hasn't been given a name, I've named him John. I think that's all. Enjoy!

PART ONE
Stiles is not the best person in the morning. He's not the worst; no that goes to his cousin Ted. Ted is like a monster in the mornings. But the fact remained that it was morning and Stiles had school.

He yawned as he scratched his stomach. Entering the kitchen he noticed the bright green post-it note. Blinking heavily, he trudged over. On the note was his father's messy scrawl.

"Remember to take your meds, you don't want a repeat of yesterday. And remember you have an appointment with Dr. Christy this afternoon. I've left a note for your school by your meds. Love you."

Stiles rolled his eyes as he made his way over to the toaster. Can't take his medicine on an empty stomach. Well, he can, but he shouldn't. Humming to himself, he knew that today would be better than the previous day. Few reasons for that, one of them being that he wouldn't be stuck in school all day. And yeah, another is that he'd remember to take his medicine.

Stiles didn't usually forget, but he had slept in and he had thought he had an extra bottle at school. The nurse was supposed to have one incase of emergencies but he had forgotten that he had used the last of the pills the week before.

He'd slept in that time too.

The thing is, Stiles thought as he ate the last of his toast and reached for the pill bottle, he isn't crazy. Not exactly.

He's not committed anymore.

He doesn't blame his dad, never did. He knew that it must have been hard for him, having just lost his wife and his kid goes bat shit insane. John had been able to handle Stiles' panic attacks, but when he started to get his episodes… That was another story. John had needed professional help.

And it's not an unknown fact, he idly contemplated as he got in his jeep. Everyone at school knew that he'd been in and out of hospitals and care centers, usually not staying long. No one really thought much about it since it started happening when they were in elementary.

Stiles had been nine when it happened. He and his mom were in the car when they got hit by a guy who didn't see them. Stiles always thought it was strange, that it was just some guy who didn't see them. He wasn't drunk or anything. Nothing to blame it on or campaign against. He couldn't take a stand to drunk driving and say that the reason why he fights so much against it because it killed his mom.

He had always felt a bit cheated out of not only having a mother for more than nine years of his life, but not being able to had a crusade. Only now he had one.

Werewolves.

Considering he was the one telling Scott that he was a werewolf, he had a hard time believing himself. Stiles thought that maybe he was having one of his episodes. But it wasn't ending and Scott wasn't telling him that he needed to think and figure things out, figure out what is real and what isn't.

So either he and Scott were having a shared episode, or werewolves were real.

Real it is then.

"You can't tell anyone." Derek glared at him. Stiles understood why Derek was threatening him over this. If Stiles was a werewolf he wouldn't want some high schooler with mental problems telling his sheriff father. And considering this is their second meeting, the first after Stiles started to actually believe that the werewolves weren't just part of his imagination, he had expected a warning of some kind.

Stiles had just shrugged slightly, his shoulders barely lifting, the rustle of his jacket minimal, "Who would believe me?"

He didn't know it at the time, but Derek was probably the only person in Beacon Hills who hadn't even heard a rumor about Stiles being mentally unstable. Peter Hale had probably heard, but no, not Derek. That would've made things easy on them.

"Why do you smell like medicine?" Derek asked when they had been stuck in the car for hours together. Stiles felt like he wasn't having an attack, he felt like this was real. But he always did. Then again, he doubted that his mind would've come up with the scenario that Derek would be shot by some sort of magic bullet and would slowly die while sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep.

"Uh, because I have to take medicine." Stiles said dryly. "You didn't think they let me out without some sort of pills did you?"

"Out in public?" Derek tried, wiping some sweat off his brow, "I don't know why they let you do that with pills."

"Oh ha ha." Stiles rolled his eyes, "Yes, let's make fun of the crazy person."

Derek's eyes narrowed as he looked at Stiles. "What?"

"Come on, man." Stiles moaned, "I had hoped that you wouldn't make fun of me too. I've had enough of that. Do you know how often in school I find a straight jacket in my locker? Because, dude, that shit isn't funny after the first time."

Derek's glare hardened. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean? Man, I don't make fun of you for being a super broody werewolf. Well, okay, I do. But that's besides the point. I just never expected you to make jokes about—" he paused, "but you don't make jokes." Finally looking at Derek he said, "Did you make a joke or did you not know?"

"I didn't make a joke." Derek stated.

Stiles blinked, "You don't know? But everybody knows!"

"Know. What." Derek growled.

"About me." Stiles said as if that answered his question.

"What about you?" Derek yelled.

"I'm crazy." Stiles shrugged, "Like, legally and medically crazy. Man, how did you not know? Even Allison knew. As in, knew before we had actually met and spoke to each other. She greeted me with 'I hear that you're insane' and I just kind of had to nod and tell her that she heard right."

There was silence in the jeep for length before Derek said, "I've been out of town. That's how I didn't know."

Stiles nodded, "And I don't really see you as the type to host house parties and therefore hasn't heard the gossip. I get'cha."

Derek looked Stiles up and down, the ever present frown tugging at his lips, "Crazy like how?"

"I have psychotic episodes." Stiles shrugged.

"Isn't it strange for someone so young—" Derek started.

"I was triggered when I was nine. Head injury along with the trauma." Stiles answered. He then continued when he saw the blank look on Derek's face, "I was in a car accident with my mom, I watched her die."

Derek didn't really know how to respond to that, so he did the next best thing, "Call Scott again. We need that bullet."

Stiles was glad that after he told Derek about his illness, that Derek didn't treat him any different. He had continued to threaten him and push him into walls. It was comforting actually. To have someone not ask if he took his meds, to ask if he was okay, to ask if they needed to call the men in white because clearly he was crazy enough to get locked up.

Stiles was glad that, over all, Scott didn't act like Stiles was any different than anyone else. He'd also never needed much of an adjustment period where he fitted the idea of Stiles and medically insane together. Of course they were young, ten at the time. He'd only been having episodes for a few months.

He and his dad had moved to the nearest town when Stiles' doctor suggested that he probably wouldn't be triggered as often if he didn't have as many reminders of his mother. So they had moved.

And he picked up Scott as a friend.

There were a lot of people who were smarter than Scott. Or nicer, more thoughtful, more observant. But Stiles wouldn't trade his best friend for anyone because Scott didn't make a big deal of it. He saw how Stiles was and he was able to become the type of friend that was just what Stiles needed. Scott wouldn't panic when Stiles did, he had a grasp of reality that helped Stiles, he was there when Stiles needed him.

Stiles remembered that the first time he had an attack in front of Scott, Scott didn't know what to do. Which Stiles never blamed him for, because he hadn't mentioned that he was mentally ill. He was gaining a friend and he knew from the kids at his previous school that no one wanted to be friends with the freak. So he had wanted to have a friend as long as he could, never telling Scott.

Scott had kept a level head, upon realizing that his friend was acting out of sorts (and the way that Scott was able to tell when they hadn't known each other for long was another reason why Scott was clearly a good friend), he went to get his mom, knowing that she was more than an adult, but a nurse as well, and could probably help.

Stiles had figured that after that Scott would have nothing to do with him, but he was surprised when the next day he got a call asking if he wanted to learn how to play lacrosse because "Something is wrong when you don't know how to play that game, man, because it's the best game ever and if you're going to live here and be my friend you can at least learn the sport that I will be playing when we get into high school because I'm going to be on the first line and win all my games and what? No, my asthma won't get in the way because I rock."

Nowadays, Stiles doesn't have episodes as often. Often enough, yes, but he can go for a while without having one. For which he was thankful for. He would have to miss school sometimes, but he hadn't had to be hospitalized in a few years. Stiles has so few episodes that it took until after Peter had been dead for a month before Derek saw one.

Derek had acknowledged that, apparently, Stiles was mentally unstable. He'd heard about it a few different times. Usually Scott was saying that Stiles wasn't coming to their meeting because he had an attack earlier and was resting. Or Scott would warn him over text that "Yea, I kno u dn't c stiles evrynite but dn't go 2nite bc he had an ep". The first time Derek got that in a text he had called Scott up right away asking what the hell he wrote.

Derek didn't like that Stiles always had an slight smell of medicine about him. He didn't like to think that Stiles wasn't okay. He knew that Stiles didn't mind, or seem to mind. Though, apparently, he'd been that way since a child and he'd gotten used to it.

He had been almost surprised at how he enjoyed having a bunch of teens as a pack. His pack. It didn't matter that two of them had claimed he killed people more than once, that one of those two was ill while the other was obsessed with a hunter's daughter. It didn't matter that one of his pack had asked for the bite and sometimes Derek wondered if he regretted it, or that the woman in the pack was smarter than any of the men and would show off her intelligence only when pressed to do so. Then there was Danny and Derek wasn't sure how exactly he fit into the pack, but he had a place. They all did.

Only Derek was still new at being the Alpha.

He hadn't ever planned on being the Alpha, but it's what he was now so he was doing his best to get the hang of the title. Derek was somewhat glad that his pack consisted of new werewolves, because otherwise they might have noticed whenever he was struggling. Instead everyone was dealing with their new qualities.

It seemed fitting, somehow.

Because Derek wanted to be a good Alpha for his pack, he was practicing in his wolf form when he smelled Stiles. Stiles was at his house, probably dropping off some random piece of furniture that he thought Derek needed right away otherwise he'd die from not owning it. It wouldn't be the first time that Stiles stopped by late at night to do just that.

Only when Derek was walking closer to him, still in wolf form, he was able to smell something. He wasn't sure what it was, but he didn't like it. The smell twisted in his stomach and made him tense. Running now, towards Stiles, hoping that the smell wasn't a threat. He only noticed that the smell was coming from Stiles when he was within a few feet of him.

Derek froze when he saw that Stiles was on Derek's porch, sitting down, knees to his chest and was clearly frightened. Frightened of Derek, it seemed, as he wasn't looking away and the scent of panic was under that indefinable smell.

Changing out of the wolf form, Derek slowly walked up to Stiles, "Stiles?"

Stiles appeared to be having difficulty breathing, "Derek?" His voice shook and was quiet. When Derek was closer to him, he reached out and pulled him down, "Derek. It's Peter."

Derek's eyes narrowed as he let himself get tugged down, "What about Peter?"

"He's out there." Stiles eyes looked a bit different, as if he wasn't seeing things right. "I-I think he won't take 'no' for an answer."

Derek wondered what that statement was about, but he thought he could ask about it later. It was clear to him that Stiles must be having some sort of episode. Frowning, he held Stiles' arm, "Stiles, Peter is dead."

"No." Stiles shook his head, "No, because he's out there, I saw him and he has to know that I'm here too and I can't be a werewolf. It wouldn't be a good idea."

Derek cursed mentally. Stiles had seen him and it triggered an episode. It wasn't his first time seeing Derek changed, but he wasn't used to it. He probably still associated it with needing to kill the Alpha. "Stiles, listen to me. Peter is dead, remember?"

Stiles nodded, "I remember but he's back. He's out there and he—what if he goes after my dad?" His breathing started getting faster, "I can't—I need my dad. Derek, I'd make a horrible werewolf. Even worse if Peter is the one teaching me how to do it."

"Stiles," Derek's voice was a bit forceful, "Peter isn't back. It's just us. You and me." Derek tired to remember if he'd ever been told on how to deal with Stiles when he was like this. All that was coming to his mind was when Stiles was talking about Kate, "I'm crazy but she is insane. Bold and italics there in case you didn't hear them."

"You and me." Stiles said, gripping tighter, "You'll protect me from Peter?" His voice had a childish tilt as he asked this, his body quivering in fear.

"Of course." Derek said, putting an arm around Stiles. "But I can't protect you from Peter—" he ignored the noise of hurt from Stiles, "—because he isn't there. Peter is dead, he's still dead. He isn't coming back."

Stiles nodded and tried to breathe slower, but that smell was coming from him, so Derek knew that Stiles was still having his psychotic episode. "It's not fair, not fair at all, man. Because no means no and your uncle should learn that."

Derek sighed, "Let's go inside?" he didn't really want to sit out on his porch all night. He would, if he had to, but he didn't want to. And he thought that maybe Stiles would forget about the Alpha in the woods if he couldn't see the woods. Helping Stiles stand, he ushered the teen inside the house and sat him down on the sofa.

Stiles didn't let go of Derek and he pulled him down next to him once more. "Because if I was a werewolf, I would probably kill someone or something because I'm crazy." He nodded, eyes not blinking as often as they should, "I don't want that to happen."

"Stiles, it's okay." Derek tried to say soothingly, "I won't let you become a werewolf unless you want it."

"It'd be a bad idea. We should text Peter and tell him it's a bad idea." Stiles stated.

Derek sighed and moved Stiles so that he was laying down on the sofa, Derek shushed him when he made noises of protest and then Derek sat down on the floor in front of the sofa, their heads near each other. Derek leaned against the cushions and didn't think anything of it when Stiles' hand gripped Derek's shoulder tightly and didn't let go. He just listened as Stiles spoke, the topic changing but always coming back to the fact that Peter was out there, still alive and wanting to hurt Stiles or his friends. Derek decided he could wait.

It was a few hours later that Stiles had fallen asleep, Derek hoped that when he woke he would be of sound mind again.

In the morning, when Stiles woke up, his episode was over, but he jabbered on about something and blushed and made excuses to leave, only yelling out a loud 'thanks' as he shut the door.

Derek shook his head and started making himself breakfast.

Stiles went home, embarrassed and pretty sure he had an episode in front of Derek. He hoped he hadn't said anything too revealing. He remembered being frightened mostly. But then he woke up next to a naked Derek.

And that was something he thought he'd never do.

At least he can cross it off his bucket list.

Sneaking into the house was easy, he was used to sneaking in and out. Quietly he went into the bathroom, to shower and change. It would be a better idea if his dad didn't find out that he'd been out all night as well as had an episode. He probably would make Stiles stay home from school.

And Stiles thought about it, he was tired and wanted to sleep. Ignore that he woke up next to Derek, ignore those feelings he had for him. Stiles knew that they wouldn't lead to anything.

Derek wouldn't want to date Stiles. For a few reasons. Age difference, the fact that Stiles had just turned seventeen, the way that Stiles looked. It was clear that Derek was out of his league. And that's without adding to the fact that Stiles was crazy.

He looked at his reflection and frowned at it.

No one would want to date him. Why would they? With his baggage? His problems? Who would want to take that on? No one.

Not even a broody werewolf.

It's all well to be friends with someone who has psychotic episodes, but why would want to date them? That would be an ugly mess.

Because Stiles was fucked up.

And he wouldn't be fixed.

Glaring at his reflection he suddenly was filled with ugly self hate. His life would never be okay, he would always have that hanging over him. And yes, at the moment, his episodes have slowed some, but chances are when he got older — hitting his thirties and forties, they would come back with a vengeance. That's the age when they probably would've hit him if he hadn't been triggered in the car accident.

Growling under his breath, Stiles' fist flew out and hit the mirror right where his face was looking back.

"Fuck. Oh, that hurt." Stiles sighed, as he felt the anger leave him. Looking at his hand he was sad to see that it had bits of mirror stuck in it. Putting the toilet seat down, he sat down with some teasers and started to pick out the bits.

"Stiles!" He heard his dad yell, "What was that? I'm opening the door, son." Stiles didn't raise protest when he dad came in. John looked at Stiles' hand and then the mirror, "What happened?"

Stiles shrugged, not wanting to voice how he had let negative feelings get to him (Dr. Christy preached often and how to not do that), he said, "I think I had an episode." Which was true enough. Only he had it the previous night.

John ran a hand through his hair, "Okay." His eyes landed on Stiles' hand, "Need some help? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I should be able to pick it all out." Stiles said, "No need to go to the hospital."

John started getting bandages ready, "No school today. Okay? You stay home and take it easy. We'll have Scott pick up any school work you missed."

Stiles nodded. Speaking quietly he said, "I'm sorry."

John got down in front of his son, "No. Stiles. I know you're blaming yourself for something, and I don't want you to do that. There is no reason for you to be sorry."

"But I'm—"

"You're my son." John stood up then, "That's the end of the discussion, okay? You are my son." With that he turned and as he was shutting the door, he added, "I'm going to call the school. You call me if you need any help or decide that need to go to the hospital."

Stiles leaned back, it wasn't like he had actually wanted to go to school anyway.