The next morning, Stiles woke up earlier than he was used to. Thankfully, it was Friday and he would have the entire weekend to himself. He got dressed in record time and went downstairs to find his dad in the kitchen.

"You're up early." His dad said between sips of coffee.

"Yeah." Was all Stiles said in response. "I, um, I'm going to head to school now."

His dad eyed him suspiciously, but just nodded. Stiles slipped on his shoes and headed toward his Jeep. The whole BioCorp. Thing really bothered him. Why would a company like that be experimenting with werewolves? Stiles feared for the pack. Sacramento was only an hour or so away. As he drove, his thoughts became more erratic. He needed to talk to Derek. It was the alpha's job to protect the rest of the pack. Instead of heading straight for the school, he steered his Jeep in the direction of the Hale house.

When he got there, the place seemed abandoned. It didn't look like there was anyone home, but he got out of his Jeep and jogged up to the front door. Before he could knock, the door opened. Mr. Dark and Broody himself stood in the doorway. He must've just gotten out of the shower because his hair was damp and he was shirtless, of course. Stiles looked away and his cheeks turned slightly pink.

"I-I wanted to, uh, talk." Stiles finally stammered out.

He could've sworn he saw Derek smirk, but the werewolf stepped aside and let Stiles inside the house.

"What about?" Derek asked nonchalantly.

"About the whole 'werewolf-gene-splice-thing'. How do you know you guys are safe? I mean Sacramento's not that far away."

Stiles would've kept talking, but Derek put up his hand. "That's not for you to worry about. I'll take care of the pack. You just focus on," he paused and motioned toward the boy. "Just focus on whatever you usually focus on."

"What about Scott, and the others? They deserve to know if they're in trouble." Stiles argued.

Derek shook his head quickly. "No. You said you wouldn't tell them. I will tell them, but I can't yet."

"If any of them get hurt," Stiles started, but his voice trailed off.

"I won't let them get hurt." Derek said, seriously. "Shouldn't you be in school? What are you even doing here?"

Stiles shrugged. "I don't like first period much anyway."

Derek chuckled. "Well, you still need to get to school. Besides, I have stuff to do. I can't babysit you all day."

Stiles face contorted into mock hurt. "Babysit! Why I never!"

"Go." Derek said, but there wasn't a hint of command. It was more like a suggestion.

Stiles left with a smile. He actually liked Derek when he wasn't acting like a psychopath. He felt a lot better about the whole situation when he finally reached the school parking lot. He parked his Jeep and grabbed his backpack. As soon as he entered the school, the bell rang and second period started. The day went by fairly quickly until lunch.

"Hey dude, you missed first period." Scott said from behind him. Stiles turned to see Scott scrunching his nose. "Ew. You smell like Derek."

"Yeah, I stopped by his place this morning." Stiles said without realizing it.

"Really? Why would you do that?"

Stiles froze. "He, uh, needed to barrow my laptop."

Scott narrowed his eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. I didn't ask why. He threatened to punch me, so I let him."

Scott rolled his eyes. "That guy needs to get a grip."

Allison and Lydia were standing at the edge of the cafeteria. Scott started toward them, but Stiles didn't follow after him.

"C'mon dude, aren't you eating?" Scott asked, turning towards his friend.

Stiles shook his head. "No, actually I think I'm going to head home."

Scott shrugged. "Okay, see you later. We're still on for that English project right?"

Stiles nodded and left the cafeteria. He knew he would probably catch hell from his dad for skipping, but he didn't care. For some reason, he found himself driving towards the Hale place again. When he got there, he went straight to the door. He knocked, but no one answered.

"Looking for my nephew?"

Stiles turned around quickly to see Peter lounging against his Jeep.

"Yeah." Stiles said.

"He should be back soon, if you care to wait."

Stiles nodded. He didn't really want to stick around with Peter, but he also didn't want to leave. "Don't fret. I'm not sticking around. I just need to get some things, then I'll be out of your hair."

Peter went into the house, but he left after a few minutes. Stiles was glad. He didn't want to hang out with Uncle Creepy for too long. Stiles knew he could've gone into the house, but he decided to wait outside. After a half hour, Stiles began questioning his motives on being here. Maybe he should just leave. Just as he stood up, he heard something move within the woods. He looked around, but he couldn't see anything.

"Derek?" He shouted.

He could feel his heart beating faster. "Seriously dude, this isn't funny."

Out of nowhere, a flash of black raced through the woods around him. Stiles brain was trying to process what the hell the thing was. Then he starting formulating an escape plan. He had two options. Option A: he could run to his Jeep. The Jeep was only about twelve feet away from the porch, but whatever was out there was fast. Option B: was to run into the house. He knew he wouldn't be entirely safe in the house. He also knew he wouldn't be able to barricade the house before the thing got inside. Option B would buy him a little more time at least.

Stiles looked at the door and sprinted toward it. He was able to get inside and lock the door before he heard growling coming from the porch. He ran upstairs and hid inside the first room he came to. He went to move a dresser in front of the door, but before he was able to, he heard a crash downstairs. The thing had gotten inside. Stiles' mind went into overdrive. He heard something pawing up the stairs and it rammed into the door. The wood splintered, and he saw a flash of claws and fur coming toward him.

He fell backwards and felt his head connect with something. He didn't have the energy to fight the thing, and his body was limp. Suddenly, the weight was off of him. His vision was clouded, but he heard a crash, a series of growls, and finally a yelp before everything went black.

Stiles opened his eyes, but immediately shut them. He had a blinding headache, and the light in the room was not helping. He groaned and his hand went to the back of his head. He winced when his hand fumbled over the tender spot. There was a rather large knot, and the area was wet.

"Glad to see you're awake."

Stiles opened his eyes to see Derek standing at the foot of a bed. Wait, why was he in a bed? He moved to set up, but Derek pushed him back down.

"I don't think so. You're stuck there for a while."

"Wha-what happened?" Stiles asked. His throat was dry, and his voice croaked.

"You were attacked, but it wasn't a regular werewolf."

Great, Stiles thought. First he had been attacked by regular werewolves, and now he had to deal not-so-regular ones. Could his life get any better?

"Here," Derek said while holding a glass of water. Stiles went to grab the glass, but his hands were too shaky. Derek sighed and pressed the glass against his lips. Stiles took several large gulps before he weakly pushed the glass away.

"Thanks."

Derek nodded and put the glass down.

"Do you realize how incredibly stupid you are? I mean, I thought you were an idiot, but now I know for sure."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "How is getting attacked my fault?"

"You were alone." Derek said plainly.

"So what? Now I need a chaperone everywhere I go?"

"That can be arranged." Derek replied sharply.

"If I didn't come when I did, you would be dead. Don't you understand that Stiles?"

"Why do you care?" Stiles asked bitterly. His tone made Derek blink. "You were the one threatening to kill me last night, remember."

Derek flinched at the words. "I never threatened you." He spat. "I just said I could kill you if I wanted."

Stiles gave a wry laugh and went to sit up. He swatted Derek's hands away when the wolf tried to get him to lay back down. "Stop." Stiles yelled. "I'm fine."

He sat up and only felt a tiny wave on dizziness. He waited a few moments before carefully swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. As soon as he stepped away from the bed, a large wave of dizziness overcame him and gravity took over. Before he could hit the ground, he felt arms wrap around him. Derek growled and put the boy back on the bed.

"You're not fine. You're hurt and you need to rest."

"What about my dad? I can't stay here, he'll freak out." Stiles objected.

"I'll call Scott. He can call your dad and tell him you're staying over there."

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "How about I call Scott and he can come get me and take me home."

Derek rolled his eyes. "If you go back to your house, you'll just be endangering your father. I couldn't kill that thing. It got away and I couldn't go after it because I couldn't leave you."

Stiles eventually relented. "Fine! I'll stay here tonight, but I'm not wasting my entire weekend here."

Stiles calmed down and several thoughts raced through his mind at once. "Who's bed is this anyways?" He questioned, looking around the room.

"Mine." Derek replied simply. Stiles' face tinged pink and he started to panic as thoughts of him having to share a bed with Derek filled his mind.

"Don't worry," Derek started, sensing his concern, "I'm sleeping on the couch."

Stiles shrugged weakly and looked away. "I wouldn't have cared anyway." He said, trying to cover his embarrassment.

"Oh really?" Derek asked and stepped in front of Stiles.

"Well, I would prefer to sleep in my bed, and since you don't mind…" Derek's voice trailed off and Stiles' heart sped up.

"Your heart's beating fast. I can't tell whether you're excited or worried." Derek continued, his voice sounded low and dangerous. He was close enough that Stiles could feel his heat.

"Definitely worried." Stiles joked. "Sharing a bed with a psychopathic werewolf is not on my list."

Derek smirked. "Well, the couch it is then." The older man walked away and rifled through a nearby dresser. He grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants and tossed them towards the bed.

"If you feel like it, you can change into these. I don't think you'd actually want to sleep in those." He said while motioning toward Stiles' somewhat ripped and bloodied clothes.

"I'll go call Scott."

Stiles nodded and reached for the clothes. After he was sure Derek was gone, he changed as quickly as he could. His shaky hands fumbled with his jeans, but he was eventually able to get them off. Derek came back into the room only minutes after Stiles had changed. The werewolf picked up Stiles' discarded clothes and balled them up. Although Derek's clothes were too large on him, Stiles had to admit they were much more comfortable than his other option.

"Scott said he'd call your dad." Derek said with disinterest.

"What else did he say?" Stiles asked and Derek's head shot up.

"What makes you think he said something else?"

"Dude, you were gone for like, twenty minutes. Besides, I know Scott. He wouldn't have just accepted something you told him to do without an explanation."

Derek chuckled and looked away. "He wanted to talk to you. He said that if I hurt you, he'd kill me himself."

Stiles shook his head and smiled slightly. "Whoa. You have some serious pack drama."

Derek shot him a wary glance and Stiles' smile disappeared. "Relax, Scott's not gonna do anything. Just don't accidently kill me or anything."

"You need to sleep, Stiles." Derek said, almost as if he didn't hear him.

The werewolf stepped toward the door and shut of the light. "Hey! I'm not a baby." Stiles objected.

Even in the darkness, Stiles could tell Derek was glaring at him. For once, the boy actually did what he was told and shimmied down under the blankets. Derek closed the door behind him and Stiles' mind began to race. He was in Derek Hale's house, wearing his clothes, and was sleeping in his bed. Never in a million years did he imagine himself in this situation. Then again, he would've never imagined his best friend as a werewolf. He sighed and breathed in the scent that was solely Derek Hale. It was a mix smells that Stiles couldn't quite put a name to, but if he had to he'd say they were a mix of leather and fresh cut cedar. He inhaled more of the teasing scent and found himself wishing that Derek was actually in the bed. He quickly shook the thought from his mind and scolded himself for being ridiculous. He lied awake for a while until his eyes finally fluttered closed and sleep overtook him.

Only an hour later, Stiles woke up screaming. His mind replayed the visions of him being attacked over and over in his sleep. Once Stiles was awake, he was able to calm down. He had to keep telling himself that it wasn't real. He had been having more and more of these dreams lately. They had started when he was taken and tortured, and have only increased with every other attack. The door to the bedroom burst open and Derek stood in the doorway. Stiles quickly noted that he was shirtless, of course.

"Are you okay?" The werewolf asked, taking several careful steps toward the bed.

Stiles nodded and calmed his erratic breathing. "Just a bad dream." He said quietly. He was embarrassed to admit that he was plagued by nightmares. He wasn't a kid anymore. Derek nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.

Stiles strained his eyes to see Derek in the darkened room. The light from the hall had illuminated him while he stood in the doorway, but now he moved like a shadow. It took Stiles' mind a few moments to process the fact that Derek was slipping into the bed next to him. Stiles' heart raced and a lump formed in his throat.

"Calm down, Stiles." Derek said, with only a hint of annoyance.

"This bed is plenty big enough for the both of us. I'll just stay here and make sure you're okay." He continued.

Stiles nodded, even though he wasn't sure if Derek could see him in the darkness. Stiles moved as far as he could to the other side of the bed to make room for the werewolf. Derek laid on top of the comforter and was situated as far as he could be from Stiles. Even through the covers, and with a good foot of space separating them, Stiles could still feel the heat radiating from him.

"Sleep." Derek commanded gently, and in only a few moments Stiles was silently storing.

Stiles slept rather soundly for the rest of the night. Derek, however, did not. Even in the darkness, Derek's eyes could register the softness of Stiles' features. The werewolf's eyes traced the boy's jawline and the soft curve of his lips. He watched as the boy's chest rose and fell with each intake of breath. He seemed so… delicate, yet Stiles still risked his life for the pack time and time again. Derek knew he should've woke Stiles up when he rolled over toward the werewolf and curled up against his body. Derek didn't mind, in fact, he secretly relished the feeling of Stiles' body next to his. At that moment, the wolf became extremely possessive of the boy. Derek knew that if anything ever happened to him he wouldn't forgive himself.

Without fully realizing it, Derek had let his wolf claim Stiles. The word 'mine' circled around and around in Derek's mind. He inhaled Stiles' scent and stored it in his memory. The boy smelled like soap and fresh snow when it first fell. Derek's own earthy scent was intertwining with Stiles' and the werewolf couldn't help but to smirk. Their scents combined made Derek extremely happy. His arms circled around Stiles' waist, almost reflexively, and the boy sighed. Derek knew he couldn't allow Stiles to wake up like this, but he figured he had a few hours before he had to move.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Stiles remained in his deep sleep, and Derek memorized every sound and movement he made. When the first light began filtering through the windows, Derek reluctantly slipped out of the bed. As soon as he moved, Stiles began tossing and turning. Derek wanted to slide back into the warmth of the bed next to Stiles, but he knew it would be hard to explain when Stiles woke up. Derek figured he'd spare the boy the embarrassment. He found himself smiling at the boy in his bed. It was a sight he knew he could get used to.