Derek walked through the door of his house, throwing his leather jacket on the stairs before face planting on his makeshift bed. He had just shoved wolfsbane ashes into the excruciating bullet wound in his arm and spent a whole day with the annoying Stilinski kid, so he figured he can just relax and take a break for a few.

But of course that couldn't happen. Not after the amount of sarcasm the boy was throwing at him all day, because that meant he had to throw it right back, facial expressions and all, just to keep up. And that meant a very sleepless night in his near future.

He just lay there for a few minutes, staring into the dark sheets, waiting for the inevitable. After about ten, his left eyebrow lifted slowly, crawling halfway up his forehead before suddenly dropping back into place.

Derek groaned. He knew this was going to happen, but a guy could hope, right?

His right eyebrow slowly, millimeter by millimeter, began inching its way over to the center of his face, barely brushing his left brow before snapping back into place again.

"Seriously. Seriously? You can't give me one night to just relax?"

In answer, both eyebrows wriggled in a wave across his face. Derek let out a long sigh.

"Offff course not."

The left bush began working its way up his forehead again, but before it could make it to the top Derek reached a hand up to grab it.

"Stoppppppp." He groaned loudly, pinching the skin around the brow in an attempt to hold it still. The right took this as an opportunity to taunt the left, and started lifting up and down as quick as it could go before Derek's other hand shot up and grabbed it as well.

He pinched hard, causing both brows to sag slightly on the ends. "I need sleep. You guys have kept me up every night. FOR. A. WEEK. And I'm grateful that you control yourselves-" he stopped momentarily to reconsider- "-mostly, during the day. Really, I am. But I can't take another night without good sleep. So please. STAY STILL."

He loosened his grip, dropping both hands to his lap before laying back down on the bed. And for a few beautiful moments, his face was perfectly still.

Until the right eyebrow decided to twitch violently to the left.

"OKAY. I SEE I CAN'T GET TO YOU THROUGH REASON, LITTLE FUCKERS."

He jumps up, running into the bathroom and grabbing a razor, holding it up to his face in the mirror.

"IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?! BECAUSE I WILL, I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL DO IT!"

Both eyebrows slunk down his face, resting so low that they were brushing against his dark eyelashes.

"Good choice." He walks out of the bathroom, carrying the razor with him this time before lying back down on the bed, mumbling something about furry little bastards running his life.

He didn't realize he was finally starting to fall asleep until his head jerked up from its position hanging off the edge of the bed. He shifted so that he was under the covers, cocooning himself in the warmth before slowly drifting back into glorious sleep.

Until half an hour later, when they decided to start bumping each other in the middle of his face.

"That's it. I'm done." He got up and stalked over to the dirty mirror propped up against the wall in his room, bringing the razor with him.

Which is how the pack found him the next morning, wrapped up in his blankets, out cold with a small blue razor in his hand.

Also with no eyebrows.