So this was just something I came up with at 2am this morning. I have no idea where it was going or if it's any good, I just know it's turned out into a freaking monster of a oneshot.

This is set during season two, disregarding season 3 as much as possible. Matt had a thing for Stiles instead of Allison, so he's still a creeper. Jackson stayed in Beacon Hills instead of going to England. And Derek isn't as emotionally constipated as he was in the show.

So have fun journeying through this thing. I may make a second part it's deemed worthy.

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Stiles was one of the bravest people Derek knew.

Weird coming from an Alpha werewolf about a human, but not to Derek. Stiles could have run from it all in the very beginning when Scott was bitten, just totally disregard everything with blind eyes in go about his business. But what teenage boy going out in the middle of the night to find a body turned back on werewolves? It had taken a while for Derek to see the bravery through the stupidity and rash moves that only a human make - now he sees both.

But Stiles had proven time and time again that his humanity was not a hindrance, but in fact, an advantage. Because of Stiles' humanity he had more to fight for, more reason to ride that edge to push the limit and prove himself even when he didn't have to anymore. He just did what he deemed was right. Derek used to wish it was Stiles that was bitten that night instead of Scott who still complains about it. But in all actuality, he was glad it was Scott.

Human Stiles earned being a hero; it helped him grow into something great. He was still a fumbling, twitchy kid that talked too much and couldn't sit still. But those were all human characteristics that the bite would have fixed. They were all things Derek fell in love with and never would have gotten the chance to experience if Stiles wasn't human.

Derek didn't know when Stiles stopped being afraid when he or someone else wolf out. Usually, Derek only did it when he was mad, fighting with Scott, mad because he was fighting with Scott, or defending his territory and/or Mate.

When it happened, Stiles would always walk over and placed a hand on his shoulder with a casual "Hey, Big Guy, take a breather." Though his eyes were tracking Derek's every move.

There were still times when he and Stiles would get into all out yell offs and he threaten to rip out Stiles' throat with his teeth (and with love), and his canines would elongate.

Stiles would just chuckle and reach up to kiss him on the nose with a "Sure you will, Der. But we're still inviting Scott to the pack meeting tomorrow night."

Stiles had literally thrown himself Peter when he was still vendetta seeking Alpha to keep him from killing Lydia. He almost went through with cutting off Derek's arm with the bone saw to save his life. He faced the Kanima three times and lives, granted, he was paralyzed for two of those times - but he still count them as wins because he wasn't killed. And he held Derek's dead weight for two hours in the pool.

Derek would agree with Stiles and save the human was indeed Bad Ass. Though he refuses to give into saying that if Stiles was at Hogwarts he'd rock the shit out of Gryffindor. But, yes, his human was really something else. It made Derek proud to have such a brave and selfless Mate, his Wolf purred with pride. And then Stiles will call him out on his smug look and Derek would to nine with a soft smile as he pulled Stiles to lap.

Stiles was the bravest person Derek knew. Until he was taken.

Derek had noticed Matt's sudden interest in his Mate at one of the boy's lacrosse games. He didn't like the idea of Stiles out at night with the Kanima on the loose, so he showed up and sat with Scott's mom, and ended up enjoying himself surprisingly. Yelling along with the other spectators for Beacon Hills High School. He had gotten so ends the game that he had almost missed Melissa talking to a kid that looked to be in Stiles' grade holding a camera. That shouldn't have raised alarms. What did was when he saw the kid scrolling through the picture memory and he had more than just a few candid shots of Stiles in it. But then, Stiles was sent into the game to actually play instead of just warming up bench, and Derek forgot about everything else as he crosses fingers both for Stiles to do great and for him not to trip and break something while he ran.

Truthfully, Derek had forgotten all about the kid with a camera until the police department. Matt, as he came to be known as, kept raking his eyes down Stiles' paralyzed body like a man dying of hunger. If Derek hadn't been in the same boat as Stiles right next to him he would have clawed Matt's eyeballs out and use them as cue-balls for his pool table. You know, if Derek had a pool table.

Stiles, for his part, never lost his cool, nor missed a beat for a sarcastic remark. But it just seems to fuel not fire, his eyes growing darker and darker with lust, even after Stiles stated again and again he wasn't interested and was with Derek. But Matt just turned a deaf ear and looked at Derek as if it was Derek that was feeling his lover. Luckily, all hell broke loose and Scott got Stiles away from that lunatic. When Matt drowned, Derek held Stiles tight, looking on as the moonlight rippled across the water. It should have been the last of their problems, even Gerard was relatively easy in styles and Lydia came crashing into the warehouse, and Jackson was saved. A werewolf at last.

But Derek should have known better. The universe doesn't allow him nice things.

When Jackson finally became a Wolf, something happens that only happens to a certain few lucky wolves in their lifetime. He found his Mate. Found his Mate in one Scott McCall.

Scott Allison and had already broken up at that point, that didn't mean that he was willing to run into the arms of the guy who mocked and bullied him and his best friend for years, no matter if Scott could feel that Jackson was his Mate too. Scott had gotten really good at ignoring what his wolf wanted. Though Derek knew from experience that you could only ignoring your Mate for so long, especially if they won't leave you alone nor shut up.

But because Jackson was the one being denied instead of being the denier, he fell into a haze of sorts. Always out in the woods, exploring it with his newfound wolf senses since it hurt to stay anywhere else till Scott pulled his head out of his ass. Scott didn't fare much better, according to Stiles one night he and Derek were crawled up together.

But neither Scott nor Jackson would be the first to bunch, too stubborn. Stiles dubbed them Awkward Potatoes. It started getting later and later when Jackson came back to the renovated Hale house he was staying at, enough to where he was gone at least a week at a time without checking in and no phone on him.

Scott had a fever and symptoms of the flu, which was enough to tell Derek that Jackson went out smiled the way it is Mate was reacting that badly the distance. He had planned on talking to Jackson the next time he saw him. If he saw them.

Stiles wasn't answering his phone.

Stiles wasn't home, the Sheriff said he didn't make it home the night before, and figure he had gone to check on Scott and just ended up staying the night like he normally did.

Stiles wasn't at Scott's, and Scott wasn't conscious to question him.

Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Lydia were at the Hale house, no one had seen Stiles since the day before.

Derek even went to ask Allison he was so desperate, though Chris was much more laid back then his father and sister so he didn't shoot Derek on site. He did promise to let him know if he saw Stiles or heard anything.

It was on his way home that something clicked and Derek's head. Last time he saw Jackson last night to.

Calling a pack meeting together, Eric split them up into groups, telling them to keep their phones on and you call if they even got the faintest trace of Stiles or Jackson. They ended up with nothing. Fifty mile radius around Beacon Hills and nothing fresh within the last twenty-four hours. There was something familiar that tickled Derek's nose unpleasantly, but he past it off as a stray hiker. When they got, Derek knew what he had to do. Tell the Sheriff.

Two weeks. Stiles and Jackson had been gone for two weeks.

The pack couldn't pick up on anything, and Scott had been admitted to the hospital having slipped into a coma. The Sheriff had started to contact other counties, telling them they had two missing children and asking for assistance. Derek had divided his time between helping the Sheriff head search parties, sitting by Scott's bedside to leach some of his pain away, and spending the night in Stiles' room where his scent still clung even if it was a little stale.

He knew got wouldn't last much longer, eventually he would slip farther into his mind and his body will just give out, stop breathing as his heart had nothing to before. What scared Derek the most, as he watched the boy, was that he knew that would be him if Stiles was never found. Granted, he had more time than Scott did since he and Stiles accepted the bond and mated, but it didn't make Derek immune to it.

Scott wasn't the only one falling apart. Melissa never left her son's side, the hospital gave her full leave with pay, but she never left as long as Scott with that the hospital too. She looked older than she was, as if she aged in years just in the few hours in between when Derek had seen her last, though she would always smile when Derek walked in. She would talk to Scott, saying that he needed a voice there to let him know he wasn't alone, it made Derek smile a little is only to hide the sad sick feeling in his gut. He would then bleed away Scott pain as Melissa turned to him and started telling stories of Scott's youth, which Derek would nod and play the audience. It was the least he could do for the woman who was about to lose the only thing in this world that she still held of value.

It literally hurt Derek to think about the Sheriff during this time. During the day he was Iron-Hammer Sheriff Papa-Bear Stilinski, willing to move hell on earth to find his son. At night, or at least when the sheriff could no longer hold himself up on his own two feet, and his badge was off, gun holster Hong up he was just John Stilinski. Sitting at the kitchen table during the early hours in the morning, a bottle of Jack a quarter full, and head held in his hands, and nothing but the two empty chairs to his left and right left watch him fall apart the pieces as his shoulders shook.

Sometimes, when Derek was in Stiles' room at night, trying for the trillionth time to see if he missed anything that would indicate where Stiles could've gone, he would hear John stagger his way to his own room, flopping like dead weights on his bed. Derek could then hear slurred and exhausted words laced with such pain as if John was physically hurting. He knew who John was talking to as soon as he heard her name - John was asking his wife for forgiveness for letting her down, for letting Stiles down, promising he could do better, vowing he would do better as long as she sent their baby boy home.

Derek knew he should leave when John was having a private conversation, that it was too intimate, full of words not meant for his ears But Derek made himself stay, laying out on Stiles' bed and looking up towards the ceiling as he listened to John's words get lost in his sobs. It wasn't until he knew John had finally passed out from sleep deprivation, booze, and emotional strain did Derek send up a few prayers to Mrs. Claudia Stilinski as well.

Three months.

That's how long Stiles in Jackson had been gone. Scott had been moved to the ICU when he stopped breathing on his own. Luckily, his heart was still going, even if it had slowed down significantly. Doctors gave him one more month at least at the rate his body was deteriorating. Derek still stopped by to take pain away. Human medical equipment only picked up on human pain; Scott wasn't in pain so they didn't give him drugs. Scott's wolf was thrashing and screaming in agony. Derek knew as his wolf sensed Scott's, but also because Derek was starting to feel himself since they had been so long since he'd seen his own Mate.

Melissa had a few more gray hairs and worry lines etched in her face, but she was still beautiful. Still diligently by her son's side, still talking about Scott waking up, but Derek could see in her eyes that she was starting to not believe her own words. She was so strong, such an amazing mother. But Derek knew that losing her son would probably be her undoing.

Derek knew it would only take one more time for the sheriff to completely unravel. He had lost weight, and his skin had he come ashen, but still he held strong until darkness fell. Nowadays, all Derek could hear from John's room at night with the word "Please" over and over again like some mantra. Derek made himself stay and listen to it, chiming in with his own beg of a prayer.

They found the body of the end of the third month a county over.

Described as a Caucasian male, between the ages of 15-20.

Derek rode in the cruiser with the Sheriff, hands clenched in his jacket pockets. Neither of them spoke, letting the noise of the cruiser's sirens be an excuse between them. Though Derek knew they were thinking the same thing - Was it Stiles or Jackson? Please let it be Jackson so it means that Stiles could still be alive.

It was down the creek, by a light stream of water. Law officials and medical personnel were already there when the sheriff and Derek checked their way down the flick, muddy earth. Derek's eyes immediately went to the face, breathing ceasing as distances computed.

It was Jackson.

He was shirtless, the lower half of his body in the water, jeans torn, caked with mud and blood. EMTs surrounded him, stethoscopes out trying to see if they could find a pulse while three others brought down a stretcher. Derek closed his eyes, blocking everyone out and concentrated.

"He's still alive." He declared, making eye contact with the Sheriff, "He needs to get to Beacon Memorial. Tell them to put him and Scott's room."

"Derek, that's half an hour away. He needs medical attention now."

"John," Derek started, urgency in his voice, "He needs to be in Scott's room. Now."

He could see it slowly dawned on the Sheriff's face, who nodded before taking charge of the situation.

Two hours later, Derek was outside Scott's room, looking in through the window in the door. Jackson was in the bed next to Scott's, hooked up to machines. Melissa agreed to help Derek and pressed their beds together before locking Jackson's arm with Scott's. It'll help now that they were together, yes, but physical contact with help even more and they should now heal together. Already Scott's heartbeat had started to rise to a safer range, and some color was starting to come back the Jackson's face. Melissa had been overjoyed when they brought Jackson in and Derek explained what was happening, what should happen now. She threw herself at Derek, pulling him into a tight hug, whispering a watery thank you.

Derek looked on at the two stubborn Mates, rubbing on his chest over part at the flare of pain that went through him at the thought of his own Mate and hadn't come back from yet. Soon it will be him in a hospital bed on Death's welcome mat if they didn't find Stiles. His only saving grace was that Stiles didn't have to feel that our have his body give up on him and he was still human.

He was brought out of his thoughts as the sheriff joined him by the door. Judging by his posture he was thinking along the same lines as Derek - Where was Stiles? And could he still be alive to?

A week later Scott opened his eyes for the first time since he was admitted.

Melissa was ecstatic and jumped on Derek as soon as you walk then about an hour later. Scott was still groggy in couldn't talk with a trac-tube still down his throat, but he was allowed a whiteboard and the marker to write down what he wanted to say. Of course he asked what happened, and Derek had to tell him what an idiot he was for denying his Mate, that he almost died. Scott had the decency to looks sheepish, then he asked when Stiles was stopping by. Derek remembered with a jolt that Scott didn't know his best friend was missing since he had been unconscious most the time. So he had the not so lucky job of explaining what happened, how long it had been, and the Sheriff getting a call about a body and turning out to be Jackson. Derek noticed Scott's free hand never let go of Jackson, and it tightened its hold as Derek's tale went on. Scott looked the closest to crying Derek had ever seen him.

"What about you?" Scott wrote, flipping the board for the Alpha to see.

Derek knew what he was asking, Scott could connect the dots when he stopped putting so much energy into being an idiot, "My body will slowly start to deteriorate, and I'll end up right where you are." He answered truthfully.

John knew this, Melissa knew this, and the pack knew this. Scott looked as if he feared it having been there already. Derek just shrugged, playing it off casually.

"We'll find him. As soon as I can get up and get out of here all help too." Scott wrote furiously.

Derek gave him a tight smile and nodded, "Just concentrate on getting better, Scott. Jackson will take a little longer to wake up since you were the one to deny him. But if you accept that you're Mates now it will help too."

Scott flushed a bit but understood. "Was it hard for Stiles to accept yours?" He wrote to Derek.

Derek pause, fighting off another flare pain as he tried to remember, "He was… cautious about it. Not sure how it would work if he was still human. I told him that's what made our bond so unique. I'm still glad he was human so he wouldn't have to feel what you did or I am from being away from your Mate for so long. It would never kill him."

Scott didn't move, looking away with a serious thoughtful face. When he did finally write something it was just five words, but they were worth their weight in gold, "I'm glad he's human too."

Two weeks later Scott was up walking around the room, he was shaky, and mainly only used the wall or Melissa's offered arm to help him stay up right.

Jackson was still in a coma, though his vitals were regular again, they expected him up any day now. Scott had taken to sitting on Jackson's bed and stroking his hair or his arm as he talk to him, much like Melissa did the Scott when he was asleep.

Derek still stopped by, though neither boy's wolf was in pain like they were before, he still cared. Scott started to smile at Derek every time he came, which was a first, but not a bad change. If only Stiles could see them now, he'd never believe it.

Derek, on his part, has started to get pounding headaches, and severe chest pains that didn't go away. He was starting to cool shakes when he had a fever; his symptoms were mirroring Scott's before he became comatose.

Derek set out on the front porch at the Hale house the night of the fourth month anniversary that Stiles disappeared.

His fists were clenched on his thighs as he fought with the pain his wolf was going through, trying to ignore its whines and calls for its Mate. It got to be were Derek couldn't take it anymore, sitting there and just waiting for his absolute, ready to roll over and take it like a bitch.

It was there, on the night that marked his Mate's disappearance, that Derek decided to run. The sun was quickly setting behind him, but he didn't care, he just had to get out of there. It would have been faster if he shifted, but his wolf was in too much pain for that, but he didn't let that slowing down so. Deep into the early hours of the morning, Derek was almost to the Oregon state line. He knew should turn back and head home, he was using energy he couldn't afford to burn right now and his wolf was starting to feel it.

He would make it to Oregon he reasoned, just to say that he actually left home, that he accomplished what he wanted, and then he would go home and face his death sentence. Surrounded by Stiles' scent that still lingered in the most innocent of places. Derek decided last week that he didn't want to be sent to the hospital when his body gave out along the torture and be hooked up to machines not meant for his kind. He wanted it to be fast, clinging to Stiles' pillow in a weak attempt of comfort. Maybe then, if Stiles was really de-uh, gone then Derek would get a chance to finally be reunited with him.

It was he sets foot into Oregon that he caught the smell. At first he thought he had just imagined it, some masochistic hallucination, but he ran toward the anyways since he had nothing left to lose. The coppery-sweet smell of blood got stronger as he weaved through the trees, mingling with the smell he never thought he would catch as strong ever again. Stiles.

He got to a small clearing, and the wind blowing around him in such a way it modeled the direction the since was coming from. He growled, four months of frustration and fear building up as he yelled "Stiles!" At the top of his lungs.

Though there was no answer back except for the wind blowing past his years as if it were laughing at him. He was about the turn around and begin the long journey back home, when he heard a twig crack somewhere off to his left, back in the thick of the trees. Derek listened to the footsteps - too heavy to be an animal's.

Then he heard it, the sound he missed most in the world. Stiles' heartbeat.

Derek took off like a bullet, his wolf pawing at the front of his mind in anticipation. He stopped in front of a rotting fallen tree, gazing around in the pale moonlight to see if his senses were right. There was nothing for a few beats, but Derek knew he was here. His efforts weren't fruitless one of pale figure walked by effortlessly walking past as if they didn't see Derek. They were naked, not a thread on them, but were covered in blood and dirt instead, they were also littered with moles birthmarks. But what really got Derek moving was the marked on their neck - it was his Mating Mark. It was Stiles.

Derek moved slowly, not wanting to startle him, Stiles looks to be an a days of sort, "Stiles." He called softly, stepping out of the shadows in front of his Mate. His Wolf was purring with relief, already feeling their bond strengthening once again now that they were in front of each other.

Stiles just froze in order not to run into Derek, blinking up at the Alpha as if a confusion. There was a wild look in Stiles' eyes, something raw and wrong there. Derek also noticed the boy was shaking and covered and scratches and bruises, and close up Stiles' smell was off.

It wasn't until Derek placed his jacket over Stiles' shoulders, and stroking his Mate's cheek, did Stiles finally speak,"D- Derek?" He asked as if he just now noticed the wolf.

Derek just shushed him, "It's going to be okay. I'm going to take you home now."

Stiles had just enough time to not before passing out strictly into Derek's arms.

It wasn't until after Derek called the sheriff, agreeing to take Stiles to the nearest hospital and wait for John to meet them, that Derek realized what he saw in Stiles' eyes. Fear.

Stiles was the bravest person Derek knew, until someone showed him how to fear.