Set after Season 3A finale

He had found them. I knew he had found my secret stash the moment I pulled up. For one he was home in the middle of the afternoon and two he was in normal clothes instead of his sheriff's uniform. So yeah, that meant that he had not only found them, but he wanted to talk about it and had taken the day off to do so.

I sighed and put my head on the steering wheel, careful to avoid the horn , because I had done that before and I did not need a mini heart attack on top of what was about to happen and what had already happened. I didn't want to get out of the car and I definitely didn't want to talk about it. Talking would turn it into something else, make it something it wasn't. Make it feel wrong. But it had never felt wrong at least not to me. If anything it had been the only thing that was right. When I did it, everyone and everything faded away, and for a split burning second all of the pain was finally manageable and at last I felt okay.

But no one would accept that. The fact that I needed to do this in order to feel the slightest bit of okay about everything that had happened. Because everything wasn't okay. Everything was pretty shitty truthfully and I seemed to be the only one who was actually reacting to that fact. And I guess everyone else was okay because they weren't as close as we had been and they look at me some type of way because they had no idea when or why we even got close in the first place. Which was something I was actually okay with. Unlike Scott, I didn't feel the need to broadcast my laundry, dirty or otherwise, to anyone willing to listen. Because what we had was something I wanted to keep to myself. Which was another glaring reason why I so didn't feel like having this conversation, because Dad was going to ask questions. Questions that left me with no choice but to explain us and then someone would know what we had shared and what I had lost. But I could tell from his stance alone that my dad wasn't about to let this go and I was going to have to suck it up and deal with it.

Sighing again I picked my head up off the steering wheel, and made to slow walk to the porch steps. I looked up at him and gave him a small smile. It was an attempt to do something that was remotely like myself and break the ice, but it only made his frown deepen so I quickly abandoned the gesture. He wasn't going to crack, so I may as well fuss up to what he already knew and start begging now.

"Dad, I-" I tried, but he still wasn't having it.

"Inside now Stiles. You have some explaining to do." he said cutting me off and retreating into the house, giving me no chance to respond and no choice but to follow. He led me into the dining room and we sat down at opposite ends of the table. A familiar pouch sat by his elbow and dread began pumping into my heart. We sat there in silence, him staring at me, me staring at that pouch, before he decided to end the silence.

"I found this when I was going through your room. And before you say anything, I, one, have the right as a homeowner to do so, since this is my house and , two, I've been worried about for a while. I thought I could find something to help explain why you've been acting like this and it looks like I have."

I knew he was saying something. I could feel his words hitting my eardrums, but I didn't hear a word he said. I couldn't tear my eyes away from that pouch that housed my secret stash. I itched to snatch it away from him, to run away and hide it again. This time better. This time away from everyone and anyone who wanted to try and make me stop, who wanted to take away the only happiness I had left. Because I couldn't bear to lose anymore.

I shifted my eyes to glance at my dad, when I couldn't feel the words hitting me anymore and I met his sad gaze. I realized then that he had noticed the true object of my attention, while I had been caught up within my own mind. Silently berating myself, I turned my entire body to face him and forced myself to stay that it was too late, because before I knew it he had already asked the very question I didn't want to answer.

"Stiles what is going on?"

I froze at those words. I knew I should have instead been furiously searching for some type of excuse but I couldn't keep my entire body from immediately tensing up the instant those words hit my eardrums.

"What do you expect me to say?"

The words tumbled out in a broken tone before I could even correct it and my dad's face feel the slightest bit at the sound of it. I knew I was hurting him like I always did and I wanted to stop, but how could I ease his pain when I had no idea how to deal with mine.

"The truth Stiles. Just tell me the truth." he begged. That too posed a dilemma. How much of the truth did he need to hear and how much did I want to tell? Taking a deep breath, I decided to stick with the bare minimum. As I spoke, I started rolling up the sleeves of my hoodie to reveal what we both already knew was underneath.

"D-Derek and I were dating." I stumbled over his name, but I was proud of myself for at least getting it out after so long.

"Derek, who? Derek Hale?". The sound of his full name hit me harder than expected but I kept rolling up my sleeves.

"Yes Derek Hale." I said as my sleeves reached my elbows. I stopped rolling and kept my eyes trained on my arms, on my scars. I knew my dad was staring at them too, and I refused to look up to see his reaction. Because I knew this was hurting him, just like everything else I didn. But strangely in that moment I wasn't ashamed. I was proud of the silver slits that littered my arms. They made me happy. They brought me peace and I was going to relish in the feeling that I so rarely felt now a days. Consequences be damned. I knew that I was going to have to give them up, especially now that my dad knew, but I was going to savor them as long as possible. So I twisted my arms around so the scars on both sides were visible and looked up at my dad, this time with a real smile on my face

"Yeah Derek and I had been dating, but he left me and I…" I broke off looking down at my masterpieces.

"I haven't been coping well."