Stiles was groaning lightly as he scaled the stairs to his room. He silenced his pain as he passed by the door to his dad's room. The man had a stressful day. He hadn't meant to worry his father. If he could have hidden the bruises on his face he would've done it. The old bastard Gerard could have at least hit him where he could have hidden the bruises. And as a result to being hit in the head so many time he could feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on. He had went downstairs to get painkillers only to find that there were none in the house. Looks like he'd be sticking out the pain for the night, besides, what was one more sleepless night?

He opened his door and slid into this room as quietly as he could. As he turned to close it movement to his right caught his eye and he nearly screamed like a little girl before realizing who it was.

"Derek?" He hissed quietly. He closed the door swiftly. The last thing he needed was his dad seeing Derek Hale creeping on him in his bedroom.

The Alpha had a deadly gleam in his eye and Stiles was starting to think it was aimed at him. He mentally went through the what he could think of that he did to bother the werewolf so much and drew up a blank.

Derek silently approached him and Stiles could tell he was looking at the marks on his face. Then, before Stiles knew it, the man's fingers were at his chin turning his head to the right to get a better look at the wounds on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked softly, not moving his head from Derek's grasp as he was examined. He didn't know why but he was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of calm. That was a feeling that had been foreign to him for awhile and despite his escalating headache he felt himself relaxing slightly.

"Gerard did this?" Derek asked curtly. Stiles hadn't talk to anyone about this other than Scott. Although, he supposed it didn't take a genius to figure it out.

Stiles nodded his confirmation.

"I didn't know he had taken you." The Alpha stated.

Stiles' face pinched in confusion.

"I guess no one thought you'd care?"

Derek let out a growl before replying, "I always want to know when my pack it hurt."

Stiles started at that. Pack? He wasn't even a were wolf!

"Okay, Derek, I think you have me confused with Scott." He reasoned as he moved out of the Alpha's grasp and turned to move away. Derek was having none of that though as he grabbed the teen by the arm and spun him back to face him.

"No, Stiles. Werewolf or not. You're my pack." He replied firmly.

Stiles pulled from the werewolf's hold and stepped back. He wasn't afraid of Derek anymore but he wasn't sure what to do with this side of Derek...this...protective side.

"Even if I were in a pack, don't you think I'd be in Scott's instead of yours?"

Derek sighed frustratedly and paced a small space in the room.

"You should be. I used to think you were...But you're not."

Stiles threw his hands up.

"What are you talking about?" He asked exasperatedly. His migraine was slowly reaching his peak and he was rubbing his temples to try to follow the conversation.

Derek glared at him for a moment.

"Sometimes, Alphas can't help who they see as their pack. It's just a feeling that won't go away. You feel the need to help them, no matter who they are and apparently no matter what they are." He answered, looking at him accusingly. He didn't know an alpha could feel this strongly over someone who wasn't even a werewolf.

Stiles bit off a strained laugh.

"Are you really judging me because I'm human and not a werewolf? Cause, buddy, if anyone is going to be a supernatural bigot here it's going to be me." He replied backing up to sit in his computer chair and rest his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his temples and closed his eyes to fight the pain. The last thing he needed was this guy seeing him in pain.

Derek sighed.

"It's not that you're human it's that I just don't understand this. You're a human you wouldn't bring anything to my pack. And yet, here I am, making sure you're going to be okay. I guess I just don't understand why I'm struck with this need to bring a liability into my pack." Derek hadn't meant for these words to sound so harsh but he couldn't help it. Why was he feeling this way toward, Stiles?

Stiles bristled at the comments.

"No one is forcing you to be here, Derek! I'm fine! You can go now. And thanks, but you can take your "We're a pack" speech and shove it up your ass! Just leave!" Stiles said standing up and aiming a painfilled glare at Derek. He couldn't help a groan escaping his mouth as his loud words rattled through his head.

Derek caught the groan and he stepped closer to him.

"You're in pain." He said obviously.

"Good deduction there, Sherlock. It's called a migraine. Being hit in the head by an old dinosaur repeatedly will do that to you." Stiles replied as he took a step towards his bed before swaying dangerously to the left only to find himself being held up by Derek.

"You should've said something." Derek said sternly as he guided him to the bed.

"I don't need your help." Came the muffled reply as Stiles buried his head in his pillow to block out the offending light that was burning his retinas.

"Yes, you do." Was Derek's only reply as he took off his leather jack and pushed his sleeve up. "Turn your head to me." He demanded only to have Stiles raise a hand to flip him off.

With a glare Derek grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him to face him and ripped the pillow away.

Stiles groaned painfully before Derek put his hand on his head and slowly black veins went up his arms as Derek siphoned most of the migraine from Stiles' body and only wincing as the pain entered him briefly.

He saw Stiles heave a grateful sigh before sinking back down into his bed, exhaustion creeping up on him.

"I forgot you could do that." He mumbled in near sleep.

Derek only slipped his jacket back on and sighed himself.

"Get some sleep," was his last order before slipping from the room.

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Peter was waiting for him when he got back to his house.

"Where were you? I've been here for three hours." Peter asked curiously.

"Out," was Derek's only response.

Peter shrugged and sniffed the air as Derek walked by. He picked up one distinct scent.

"The Stiles boy? What were you doing with him?" He asked.

"You tell me. You know, sometimes these Alpha senses kinda suck." Derek grumbled.

"What are you talking about here?" Peter asked in confusion.

"I'm talking about the fact that I just went all the way across town to make sure that Stiles was okay because I found out Gerard had used him as a punching bag. Why am I seeing a human as my pack? Stiles shouldn't be in this. He's a human. He just follows Scott around because he's worried about him but he doesn't belong in my pack."

Peter shook his head. "You don't. Alphas don't see humans as a pack. Only werewolf are a pack. I mean, sure, you can have those little makeshift 'packs' like the McCall kid has but only werewolves share the link to a pack."

Derek looked at his uncle blankly.

"What?" He asked dumbly.

Peter gazed at the man before him before breaking out in a laugh.

"Oh, boy." He mumbled through the laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" Derek demanded.

Peter composed himself but still had the smug smile on his face.

"It looks like someone is having trouble distinguishing the difference between his Alpha senses from his human feelings. You do remember what a feeling is, don't you?" He answered.

Derek opened his mouth to reply but stopped and for a moment he looked like a fish out of water.

"Are you trying to tell me that I'm having feelings for Stiles? The guy who's generally a pain in my ass twenty- four seven?" He finally asked in disbelief.

"All I'm saying is that you just went all the way across town to check on someone and I can assure you it's not because you see them as your pack. We can't help who we fall in love with, Der'." Peter teased.

"I do not have any sort of feelings for Stiles!"

Peter winced and made his way to the door.

"Denial is a horrible place to be in. I'm gonna go. It seems as though you have some feelings to sort through. I'm glad to see you're starting to have those again!" He said before exiting the house before Derek could find something to murder him with...again.

And that just left Derek...alone. He didn't like being alone not matter what he told anyone. He was a werewolf. He needed a pack. But, as a picture of Stiles popped in his head on it's own accord, he had a feeling he getting something deeper than a link to a pack.

A/N- okay, this is the first thing of Teen Wolf I've ever written so please be gentle with mexD

Let me know what you think though!