Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own Teen Wolf.
A/N: I need to stop this. It's a problem. I accidentally fic, again. It won't stop! Oh god. I don't care. No regrets! Anyway, another AU (because of reasons). Hope you enjoy it.

When Derek opens his door, he is greeted with a very cheerful, "Hi!" Derek blinked at him.

"I'm Stiles." The kid said, "I just moved in across the street. And I wanted to give you this casserole I made."

Derek found himself holding a pan with tin foil over it, a drawing of a sun battling a raincloud was written in permanent marker on the foil. "Isn't it usually the people who have lived here doing the meet and greet with food to the new neighbors."

"That wasn't a question." Stiles' eyes narrowed, "You're magic if you can ask a question by using a period. What's your name?"

"Derek." Derek grunted out. "Thanks for the," he looked down at the drawing again, "casserole."

"No problem!" Stiles said.

"See you later." Derek said, slamming the door in Stiles' face and putting the casserole in the fridge.

Two days later Derek walked across the street to Stiles' door and rang the bell.

"Derek!" Stiles grinned.

Derek held the empty pan in his hands, "I know that it's the social norm to back something in your pan to give it back but it's also the social norm not to kill your new neighbor with horrible food poisoning."

Stiles laughed, "That's true."

Derek looked up and saw that Stiles was a mess. He had dirt and grease all over him. "You have some grease on your forehead."

Stiles pouted, "Yeah, I'm having some trouble with my dish disposal. I mean, when I moved in they said that it worked but that was a lie. They are lying liars who lie."

"Clearly." Derek said. After a few seconds of silence, Derek sighed, "I can take a look at it, if you want."

"Could you? That would be great." Stiles showed him to the kitchen. "Man, I don't know anything about this stuff. And I know only a little bit about cars. But I know other things, dude. It's all good. We can't all know everything. Think about how that would be-"

"I'm a mechanic." Derek said.

"Awesome." Stiles said, eyes growing, "I am not. I am actually a paramedic specialist. Which is part of why I had to move here. Because like, I took extra schooling to add that specialist at the end of my paramedic but not all states have that job and so some states - the whole state, Derek - they won't hire me. I'm either over-qualified or under-qualified. But I'm happy here, in this state. I met you!"

Derek grunted as he looked over the disposal.

It didn't take long, and Stiles never let the conversation quiet. But Derek stood up quickly, and ignored Stiles shriek of surprise as he washed his hands in the sink. "It should work fine now."

"Dude, awesome." Stiles said, "You didn't even have to say you needed to get a part and oh God, I am going to bake you a cake."

"What."

"Again with the magic." Stiles said before shaking his head as if to clear it, "You did me a solid, man. Do you not like cake? I can make something else. Or did you not like my casserole?"

Truth was, Derek ate all of it on the first day but waited for what he thought was a reasonable amount of time for one man to eat the casserole. "It was good. I like cake."

"Awesome." Stiles said, grinning like an idiot.

Derek nodded and then just walked out.

A few hours later, Derek opened his door to a cake. With purple icing and pink pig sprinkles. "Cake!"

"I see." Derek got pushed aside as Stiles helped himself inside. "You can put it on the kitchen counter, I guess."

Stiles nodded, "It should go in the fridge though, because of the type of icing." He opened the fridge and gasped, "Why do you only have condiments in this? How are you alive?"

Derek shrugged. "Sheer willpower."

"You, sir, are a mystery." Stiles said, setting the cake in the fridge. "But yes, thank you for helping me with my disposal."

"Anytime." Derek replied.

Stiles smiled, "You bet. Well, I actually have to go to work now, I don't get off until two am. Can you believe that? I can. Anyway, I'll see you later, dude."

The next day Stiles showed up at his house with a kid's red wagon full of tupperware. "Stiles?"

"Okay, dude. I know this might sound weird and everything, but you have no food in your house and I feel like I have to feed you now that I know about it." Stiles said, handing over the handle of the red wagon, "So I made you enough food for a while. Let me know when you eat through all of it, or if you don't like anything."

"But-"

"No." Stiles held up his hand, "I don't want to hear about it, okay? You take the food."

"Why do you feel the need to take care of me." Derek said.

"Because otherwise you'll die, clearly. Also, you speak magic. Everytime. Did you never learn what a questionmark is? Did you like, miss that lesson in school or something?" Stiles said.

"I won't die." Derek replied, staring at the rainbow lids on the tupperware, "I haven't died yet."

"'Yet' is the key word." Stiles said before waving, yelling a goodbye and sprinting across the street.

Derek shook his head and took the tupperware inside, peaking in to see what all was made. Most of it looked amazing. Actually, all of it did. The cake and the casserole had been very good, so he had high hopes for the food.

Later that day, there was a knock at Derek's door and he opened with a sigh and a, "Stiles-"

"No, dude. I'm Jackson." Jackson said, standing at his doorstep. "But this is about Stiles."

"Who are you." Derek said, crossing his arms. Stiles had moved in earlier that week, why was his only visitor who wasn't Stiles, visiting because of Stiles?

"I just told you." Jackson glared, "But Stiles is my," he paused, "friend." He didn't sound sure of himself. "I'm the only person he knew before moving here. And listen, I appreciate that you haven't yelled at him for shoving food down your throat. I did that as soon as he showed up at my door with his stupidly good casserole."

"It was stupidly good." Derek agreed.

"Of course it was." Jackson rolled his eyes, "Stiles made it."

"And you yelled at him." Derek blinked.

"I don't need him to make me food. I don't need anyone." Jackson said forcefully. "But that is not the point. I just want to," he paused, thinking, "thank you for letting him do that."

"Why is it so important." Derek said.

Jackson sighed, "His dad had an accident with his job a few years ago and Stiles took care of him. He's dead now. Stiles needs someone to take care of." He looked Derek up and down, "Which apparently you don't do because he has attached himself to you like a leech."

"A leech." Derek repeated.

"Yes, moron, that's what I said." Jackson shook his head. "So just let him continue doing his thing because his old man has only been dead for two weeks and if you make him stop taking care of you, he'll break and I can't have everyone showing up to yell at me for letting him get broken." He nodded, "Good talk." With that, Jackson left Derek standing in his doorway.

Derek frowned as he closed the door and sat down on his favorite chair.

Stiles seemed to be a force of nature. But if he was replacing his father with him? That wasn't healthy. But everyone had their way to dealing with things, and at least throwing himself into taking care of someone was better than some of the other options.

Derek was checking his mail when he heard Stiles yelling across the street. Frowning, he looked over and saw him by his jeep with no one else around. Shrugging, he made his way over, "Stiles."

"Derek, hey." Stiles glared at his jeep, "Probably heard me yelling, right? Well, my jeep broke and I have to go to work, y'know? Peoples lives depend on me. Lives, Derek. Serious shit. And-"

"I'm already back from work." Derek said, "You can take my car and I'll work on this."

"You really-? Seriously?" Stiles asked.

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't mean it." Derek threw his keys at him. "Just be careful."

"Of course, thank you, Derek. Oh my god." Stiles said. Taking the keys, he ran out of the garage.

Derek shook his head and and got to work on the jeep.

Things continued on that way and Derek was surprised that he was friends with Stiles. Stiles would come over and hang out some, always bringing some food. He was also always thankful when Derek would fix some sort of mechanical or plumbing problem in his home.

What surprised Derek even more than the friendship, is that sometimes he wondered what it would be like if they actually dated. He realized that they were basically dating as it was, just without the sexual parts. And that was sad. He hadn't seen Jackson again, but sometimes Stiles would complain about him and talk about how much of a douche-canoe Jackson was.

Derek had just sat down, tupperware and fork in hand when his window burst open and a man wearing a mask climbed through, gun glinting in the dim light from the television. "Stay where you are." The man yelled, aiming the gun at Derek.

Derek put down his fork, "Listen, if you're sure you want to do this, just take what you want. I won't stop you." It was a lie, he would try to stop him, or at least get the gun away.

"Don't be stupid." The masked man shoved the gun in Derek's face, "You stay right there and call no one."

The man grabbed a few things from his house, but Derek wasn't having any of that. Sneaking out of his chair, he quietly walked up behind the robber and went to take him out, but he stepped on a squeaky floorboard and the man turned. Panicking, the man's finger twitched and a shot rang out.

Derek gasped as he heard the man muttering curses and running out of the house. Falling down, Derek saw that he was shot in his stomach. Frowning at it, he glared at how his blood was spreading on his shirt. Which his shirt had a whole in it now. No way he could save it.

Before Derek could do much else beyond lamenting his shirt, Stiles was in his face yelling at him about something. "Huh?"

"-Yes, he's been shot. Shouldn't have hit his lungs, but close." Stiles was talking into a phone. Oh. He was probably calling for an ambulance.

"Stiles?" Derek asked.

Stiles looked down at him, "This is going to hurt, Derek. I have to put pressure on this, but I want you to stay awake okay?" He pressed down on the wound and Derek howled. "Shhh. Please, Derek okay? You can't die, I won't let you. I won't let someone else die."

Derek woke up later, instantly knowing he was in a hospital. He looked around and saw that Stiles was in a chair near his feet. Stiles was laying over his legs, hands curled possessively around Derek, face looking away but talking nonetheless.

"-and I know we haven't known each other much but when I heard that gunshot, and I know that sound, my dad was a sheriff, y'know. But when I heard it, I knew and my gut dropped out. I saw some guy running from your house and I swear there were tears before I reached your house. I'm glad you're alive, dude. Because I seriously wouldn't be able to handle my two favorite people dying within three months of each other. I just wouldn't be able too. And I had been in the middle of baking you some cookies and I was going to spell out 'will you date me' on them and I had to call Jackson and tell him to go to my house and shut off my oven because-"

"Yes." Derek said.

Stiles shot up and looked at him, "You're awake. Oh my God. You're awake." Stiles said, eyes watery but smile on his face. "I need to get your doctor, I need to make sure you're okay and-" he paused, "Did you say yes? Yes to what? Yes you're awake?"

"Yes, I'll date you." Derek said.

"No." Stiles said, "You can't answer that, I didn't give you cookies to swade you. Also, you're high on the good drugs."

"Yes." Derek replied. "I am on good drugs. I feel it. But I want to date you."

Stiles grinned, "We will discuss this later. When you can think right. Also, oh God. Derek," He leaned down and had a serious face on, "You aren't allowed to date me because I saved your life."

"I'm allowed to date you because I want to." Derek said before reaching up and poking Stiles on the nose.

"Right. Doctors." Stiles stood up and walked out.

Derek smiled, but as soon as Stiles left, Jackson came in.

"I was hiding from him." Jackson said, leaning over Derek threateningly, "But it's a good thing you didn't die. That would have broke him." He raised his eyebrows, "And we had that conversation about how you can't do that. But now you aren't allowed to break up with him either."

"You," Derek said, "are a douche-canoe. Stiles says so."

Jackson sighed, "I'll threaten you again later." With that he gave Derek a disgusted look and walked away.

Derek was able to leave the hospital sooner than he should have because he was growling at everyone and he said he would let himself be in Stiles' care. Turned out dating a paramedic specialist was very helpful when leaving the hospital AMA.

"You're going to have a cool, sexy scar now." Stiles informed him.

"Of course." Derek agreed sarcastically. "Why wouldn't I want one of those?"

"Oh my God." Stiles said, turning to look at him with awe in his eyes, "You used a question mark."