Author's Note: So I promised that I would start posting the sequel to Stiles and the Flawless Plan some time in February. Thanks to the powers of procrastination, you get to enjoy the first chapter at the last possible moment! Technically, the last day in February still counts. My beta tells me so, therefore it must be true.

This story is pretty much just an excuse to write pining Derek. Because pining Derek is my favorite.

Beta'd by the fantastic percygranger. Cheerleading provided by desiderii. Much love to both of you. MUAH.

I'm planning on posting once every three days, on a rotating day-of-the-week schedule. (We'll see how that actually works out.)

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Chapter 1: Back to Bacon Hills

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The blog had been Scott's idea, actually.

"It'll be a good way to keep in touch while you travel," he'd said, his face earnest, eyes bright.

Derek hated him in that moment.

"I don't know how to start a blog," he had said, but Cora had set up the Wordpress site for him.

She refused to write anything. "I'm not a writer," she'd said, one eyebrow raised. She looked so much like Laura in that moment, it made Derek's breath catch.

"I'm not a writer, either," he'd replied, and didn't miss the way Cora's face crumpled in on itself.

He remembered, before the fire, how he'd sat with Cora and Andrew before bed, telling them stories of pirates and fairies, magicians and spaceships.

"Fine," Derek said, if only to wipe the pain from Cora's face. "But I can't promise it'll be any good."

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Scott commented on every post. Usually something insipid like "Sounds like fun!" or "Glad I've never been stuck on a road trip with you," or "Is that really the only thing you noticed about Kansas?"

The rest of the pack commented sometimes. Peter left a few cryptic responses. Isaac commented on one of Derek's Colorado entries to say he'd never gone skiing before. The twins commented on the first entry jointly, saying "Have fun! Looking forward to the Vegas post!" Derek had spent a long few minutes deciding if he wanted to delete it.

Even the humans left comments. Allison left generic cheery responses. Danny commented on the Boston entry, when Cora had dragged Derek to a male strip club. Lydia would correct his typos and argue about his grammar.

Stiles never commented. Derek tried not to think about it.

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Four months into their road trip, Cora and Derek stood on the observation deck on top of the Seattle Space Needle, staring out at the city below as wind ruffled their hair, and Cora said "I'm sick of this bullshit."

Derek just shrugged.

He was ready to come back to Beacon Hills. He missed… things. Of course he would miss Beacon Hills. It held the home where he had grown up, the graves of his family, his new alpha.

He could say that he wasn't looking forward to seeing anyone else in the pack, but lately he hadn't been as good at deceiving himself. It may have been the dreams that tipped him off: dreams of brown eyes and long fingers. Cora had finally stopped giving him the side eye during breakfast, which either meant that he'd stopped talking in his sleep, or, more likely, that she'd come to anticipate his midnight mumblings.

They never talked about it. They didn't talk about the years Cora had spent in hiding, either. Once Derek had asked her if there had been anyone. Cora's eyes had grown dark, and she set down her spoon, unable to finish her oatmeal. Derek had waited, picking around his raisins (Cora insisted he eat fruit, but Derek hated them), and finally, she got up, said, "Yes," and exited the diner. Derek hadn't seen her for the rest of the day, but when he woke up the next morning, she was in her bed in the motel room. He never brought it up again.

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His phone buzzed four days after he'd posted his latest blog entry, the one saying that he and Cora were thinking of coming back to Beacon Hills. He fumbled it out of his pocket while Cora was in the bathroom of some crappy diner, indistinguishable from all the other crappy diners they'd visited in the four months they'd been traveling.

It was from Scott, and simply read,

From Scott: When you coming back to bacon Hills? Planning a welcome back party :)

Derek snorted at the typo and thumbed back a response (Tomorrow.) before sliding the phone back in his pocket. Cora looked at him suspiciously when she got out of the bathroom, but he just took another forkful of eggs, and raised a judgmental eyebrow when she stole one of his pancakes.

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"They're throwing a party for us?" Cora snorted as she pushed open the front door of the loft and dropped her duffel in the entryway with a solid thump. "Right, because they were so sad to see us go."

Derek shrugged, tension thrumming through his shoulder blades as he followed her inside. "I think Scott just wants the pack to be closer."

"Than it was when you were alpha, you mean?" She plopped down on the sofa, sending up a puff of dust and the scent of dried leaves, and propped her feet up on the coffee table. "It would be hard to do worse."

Derek sighed and swatted her ankles off the table. "Thanks."

"Whatever," Cora retorted, putting her feet back on the table.

He frowned down at his sister. "Your confidence in me is always appreciated."

"You're a great brother, an awesome wolf, and a good person. Doesn't change the fact that you're a terrible alpha."

Derek winced. "I'm not a good person."

"Shut up. Stop oozing your insecurities everywhere and sit down with me." She patted the couch cushion next to her.

Derek crossed his arms over his chest and remained standing.

Cora rolled her eyes. "We need to talk about Scott."

"What's to talk about?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe about how he's your alpha now, but not mine?" She shot him a sidelong glance. "Unless you'd rather talk about Stiles."

Derek bared his teeth, letting his fangs elongate, and flashed blue eyes at his sister.

She appeared unfazed, but she did bare her neck minutely when she said, "Fine, big bro. We won't talk about it. But you better make sure Scott knows I'm not joining his big, happy family. Not now, maybe not ever."

"It won't be an issue."

Cora rolled her eyes. "So that's a, 'No, I won't bother to tell Scott.' Thanks, Der. You're the best."

Derek let his arms drop to his sides. "We done here?"

"Yeah, yeah." She waved her hand at him. "Feel free to go off and brood in a corner, bemoaning your meaningless existence."

Derek scowled before stalking away.