Love. That's what Stiles wanted. He wanted the deep rooted, tingle your toes, head over heels, love. Did that make him sound like a girl? He didn't think so. He didn't enjoy being alone. He didn't want to be co-dependent to the point of weakness, but someone to hold him throughout the night would be nice.

In walks Derek Hale. When Stiles first saw Derek, his concerns over his sexuality were over. He was gay. But gay for Derek. Oh no.

Derek was beautiful, with his sly smirks, gentle laughs, and scars that lay within his mind. He was troubled, just as much as Stiles was, and Stiles wanted him. Guilt and all. He wanted to open his arms as wide as they could go and have Derek between them. He wanted Derek to hold him through the nightmares and tell him everything was going to be alright. He wanted love. Scratch that- he was already in love. He wanted to be loved BACK.

When Stiles first realized he was in love with Derek Hale he cried. He cried throughout the night over something he knew was bound to happen. Unrequited love was a bitch. No- he was unrequited love's bitch. And Derek didn't know any of this.

Stiles mourned the love he would never receive, he mourned over Derek Hale. Derek and him were friends, and Stiles knew that Derek could never love him. Derek wasn't ready to be in a relationship- he was still broken from Kate and the loss of his family, and Stiles respected that. But that didn't mean he accepted that without tears.

Derek was all he wanted, and having that just within his grasp was killing him slowly. Stiles tried dating other guys, but none of them filled the void in his heart. The only time that void was gone was when Derek laughed at one of his jokes or smiled at him like the amazing friend he is. No matter of kisses or hugs from others could make Stiles happy. He felt empty.

And so Stiles put up his mask. His mask of happiness and laughter, hiding his tears and broken heart. He had gotten pretty good at it too, but Derek still saw through it. Derek saw the tears building at Stiles eyes on pack movie nights, he smelt the underlying sadness to Stiles' scent, he heard Stiles ramble on but no true words come out. He noticed the shell of Stiles, but didn't know why.

Meanwhile Stiles mask was starting to fade. He was becoming numb to things. Jokes he would have bust a gut laughing at before barely made him smile. Songs he used to dance to weren't even worth the tap of his foot to the beat. Video Games were a bore, as was school. He kept his grades up, though, holding onto the order of school like a life preserver. If he couldn't be happy, he might as well keep his dad happy, right?

But slowly everyone noticed. He was receiving texts and calls from the pack constantly, as well as invitations to parties and other activities, attempting to make him smile or go back to his old self. He declined most, as holding up what was left of his mask was hurting him. He was hurting.

So he sent himself to a counselor, who directed him to a therapist. His dad immediately signed all of the required paperwork, handing over his credit card with a tight smile. His therapist coaxed Stiles fears out of him, and slowly Stiles felt like his old self. He was feeling less like shattered glass and more like an incomplete puzzle- possible to be whole again. He cried there, in that stuffy little office, over everything. Over his nightmares, his fears, his mother's death, his lack of love, everything. When Stiles picked up all his pieces, all that was left was his Derek problem. Through all of Stiles' sessions, through all of his self discovery, his love for Derek didn't fade.

And now here he stood. Freezing in the rain in front of the Hale house, at twelve o'clock midnight, ready to tell Derek his feelings. Ready to put his heart in Derek's claws and hope he doesn't rip it to sheds. Here he was, closest thing to being whole he's been in a log while, risking it all.

Derek stepped out of the house close to a snails pace, not knowing what he was walking into. He wanted to run up to the teen and grab him in a hug, but knew he shouldn't; he didn't want to scare Stiles away.

"Derek," Stiles began, shivering slightly, taking two small steps backwards, as if he were preparing to flee. "I think I love you. No, I do. I do love you." Stiles took in a ragged breath at that and when he saw Derek's blank face, he continued talking-rambling as if that could take away the shock of it all.

"I mean, you make me feel safe, and you make me feel like pack, even though I know I'm not. You struggle to speak your feelings and I do too, but somehow you drag them out of me and- and - and- you make the numbness go away. You-"

"No."

"What?" Stiles cried out, finally letting some of his tears fall.

"I said you are wrong. I don't make you feel like pack, you ARE pack. You wiggled your freckled face into our lives and there you will stay. Anyone who can do that- can make me FEEL- is worth the wait. Come inside Stiles." He held his arms out in a hug like motion, wanting nothing more than for Stiles to run into them.

Stiles gasped audibly, still making small steps backward, scared that this was just a joke. "Do you feel anything for me Derek? I don't quite know what is wrong with me but I know that you make me feel alive and normal and not like some teenage male version of Bella Swan. I'm so dependent, I wish I wasn't, and I have complexes, and I talk when I'm nervous, and- and- What are you doin-"

He was cut off by the press of Derek's lips to his own. A gentle, unhurried, passion filled kiss. Was this it? Was this his toe- tingling love? Was this his head over heels kiss?

Derek lightly growled. "Does that answer your question?"

It did. Derek did care. But mostly, it answered the questions Stiles didn't even know he needed the answer to. Stiles COULD be loved. He could have his once in a lifetime love. He could be happy. He could be put back together.

Stiles was whole again, all because Derek's claws didn't slice his heart when it was placed in his hands, they shielded and protected it. Derek saved Stiles from himself.