A/N: The songs Stiles sings this chapter are "Let's See How Far We've Come" and "Push" by Matchbox Twenty.

Chapter 2

"Hello? Hello? Hello?"

The automated voice echoed over the crowd and they roared with life. Derek stood just off stage, sizing up anyone who might jump the barricade.

"Hello? Hello? Hello?" the voice said again, and this time the crowd shouted it simultaneously.

On stage, Stiles had his head down in front of the mic, but Derek could see his grin.

Then the music started. Heavy drums. Stiles bounced his head. Then the guitar hummed into life, and Stiles' shoulders were going. He raised his head and leaned into the mic.

"I'm wakin' up at the start of the end of the world, but it's feeling just like every other mornin' before. Now I wonder what my life is gonna mean if it's gone."

Derek glanced at his watch. The concert was half over. He couldn't decide if he wanted to get the job or not for the full tour. On one hand, great business and he loved his job. On the other hand, he and Stiles hadn't exactly gotten off to a great start.

Glancing at his wrist, Derek was tempted to grab a jacket despite the hot temperatures this close to the lights on stage. Light or no light, though, he could see the zeros.

Someone's numbers were a joke sometimes, sure. People talked about it. There were entire shows dedicated to the numbers – whether fake dramas, reality tv where a bunch of zeros competed for one specific zero, science or health shows. They were a part of life, so of course people talked about them. But outside of bad reality TV? Saying something like that about a zero was not only insensitive, it was invasive. Stiles was barely out of being a teenager, but he should know better.

"I think it turned ten o'clock but I don't really know, and I can't remember carin' for an hour or so. Started cryin' and I couldn't stop myself. I started runnin', but there's nowhere to run to."

Everyone with zero was in a hurry to find their match, and statistically the only way someone wouldn't find their match would be if their match died that month from unnatural causes. To suggest Derek needed luck to find or keep his match was absurd and rude. To suggest he might not find his match? Who did Stiles think he was? Just because he was famous and probably met a dozen potentials every day-

"I believe the world is burning to the ground! Oh well. I guess we're gonna find out. Let's see how far we've come! Let's see how far we've come! Well I believe it all is coming to an end! Oh well. I guess we're gonna pretend. Let's see how far we've come! Let's see how far we've come!"

The coverings on Stiles' wrists. How would he ever know when he met the right person? Did he take them off ever? That morning when they saw him in the hall… he's been wearing the wristbands but not the wrappings. How many months did Stiles have left? He met so many people. He must be close to zero by now.

But it would be rude to ask. Inexcusable to forcibly find out.

The song ended with a surge in the crowd and Derek tensed. He shouldn't be thinking about this here. He was doing a job. He was protecting Stiles. He was making sure his men on the stage were doing their jobs while Laura managed the floor ops. So far, his earpiece was quiet. No major incidents… except for the one overly drunk guy in the back, but that had been taken care of.

"Thank you," Stiles said, breathless, into the mic. He touched his own ear piece and picked up a towel from the stage with his other hand. The sweat was visible on his face and neck even from Derek's distance, and he wiped it away for the time being. "You're a fantastic first audience. I love you guys!"

The crowd cheered as the next song started up, it was slower than the last one, and Stiles chuckled. Derek wasn't familiar with the song coming on, but Stiles found him in his spot just out of the public's view and smirked.

"She said I don't know if I've ever been good enough. I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in." Stiles looked back at the audience while he sang and gripped the mic in its stand. "And I don't know if I've ever been really loved by a hand that's touched me, and I feel like something's gonna give. And I'm a little bit angry. Well, this ain't over, no not here, not while I still need you around."

Derek frowned. It sounded like a love song… but it wasn't? It was a sour song. There were even some sour notes, but Stiles didn't seem to notice.

"You don't owe me. We might change. Yeah, yeah we just might feel good." And then Stiles' eyes were back to staring off-stage at Derek, head bent so it wasn't so obvious. "I wanna push you around, well I will, well I will. I wanna push you down, well I will, well I will."

Narrowing his eyes, Derek focused not on the words but on the sour notes. They didn't sound like any instrument Derek knew of. In fact, they sounded like straight metal.

Panic clenched in his stomach and his face must have look shocked because Stiles kept singing, but his face looked confused. Derek looked away a second later, stared up at the rigging with the lights. Were they moving?

Something small tumbled down and hit the ground with a sound too soft to hear over the music, but it was in Stiles' view, and the singer trailed off with his song to look at it. It didn't take the band long to notice and then the music died away too.

The sour notes didn't stop, though, and now Derek could hear them clearly. It was the creaking of metal. Someone in the audience screamed and Derek ran out on stage just as the light above Stiles detached and fell from the rigging.

"Holy-," was all Stiles got out before Derek plowed into him, and they tumbled five feet to Stiles' left.

The light collided with a booming crash, and now the whole audience was shrieking. Pushing himself to his knees, Derek looked out into the crowd and saw Laura and her men herding the people out the doors. Good.

"Get up in the catwalk!" Derek ordered on the radio. "Lights don't fall by themselves."

Under him on the stage, Stiles groaned and shoved a hand into Derek's stomach. "Shit," he said, finishing his previous statement.

"Are you alright?" Derek asked, moving off and snatching Stiles' wrist to pull to his feet.

"I'm fine. What the hell?" When Stiles regained his footing, he looked over where the mic stand had been crushed by the light. "Oh my god."

"Come on. We need to get you out of the area," Derek said and pulled Stiles away from the wreckage. He didn't release Stiles' arm until they were all the way back in Stiles' room.

Although Stiles looked a little worse for wear, Derek didn't stay with him. He escorted the singer to his room and checked every possible hiding place inside. The room was neat – barely anything had been taken out of bags and most of it had already been repacked for their exit that night – so he was able to scan for dangers rather quickly.

"Stay here. I'll be back after we clear the building," he ordered, heading back out. Pushing his walkie, he called for someone to come watch Stiles' door. "Jordan's going to come keep an eye on you," he said after he got an answer. "He'll check on you when he gets here, but then he's going to stay outside."

"Are you serious? That is just-That is the worst idea-," Stiles stammered out and grabbed Derek by the shoulder to stop him from leaving. "You're acting like the building's gonna blow up. Oh my God! Is the building gonna blow up?"

"I don't know." Derek grunted and pulled Stiles' hand off.

"And Scott and Mom?" Stiles asked, his fingers twitching like he wanted to grab Derek again.

"I'm sure there's a detail on them. I'll call to check in a minute, but I need you to stay here." Derek tried to impress the seriousness of his request by giving Stiles the most intense stare he could manage. "I can't go check everything if I think you're running around somewhere trying to play hero. I need you safe. Understand?"

"Understand?" Stiles asked, and his voice seemed half-hysteric.

Derek raised a finger and pointed it at the singer, an inch away from poking him in the nose. "Stay here while we check things out. Do. Not. Go. Anywhere."

And then he left before Stiles could get hold of him again. Jordan was there in seconds, and then Derek hurried off to check the building. Generally speaking, protocol demanded they evacuate Stiles and the team entirely, but since Derek was relatively positive this was an attack and not a coincidence, he didn't want to risk letting Stiles wander around.

"Is Stiles safe?" Laura asked over the radio.

"Jordan's got him. He's good. The McCalls?" Derek asked back.

"On the bus. It's been checked. All clear," Laura reported.

"And the stage? Find anything? Anyone?"

The theater was cleared of guests by the time he got back out there and multiple voices rang back to him on the radio to clarify the areas that had been checked for saboteurs. The catwalk, the hallways backstage, the immediate backstage, all closets, and the lobby were clear. So far it sounded as if their wannabe assassin had long since fled, but Derek wanted to be sure.

They searched for the better part of an hour before they decided the building was safe. No assassins in hiding. No mysterious packages left behind. The only sign of anything was the odd scratches by the lock for the balcony window.

"Laura, balcony window," Derek called over the radio.

By the time she got up to him, Derek had his phone out and had taken several pictures of the damage. "What the hell?" she asked and bent down to get a closer look.

"Appears that someone pried it open from the outside, taking a few chunks of the paint with them." Derek sent the photos to his mother and then slid his phone into his pocket.

For a second, Laura was silent, and then she sighed. "You just sent those to Mom, didn't you?" she asked.

"Yeah. So?"

"Man, I was really hoping to do this without her help," Laura said and stood back up. Pushing her hair over her shoulder, she surveyed the area around the window and then crossed her arms. "Well at least it was a quick in and out deal. And if they keep us, we'll be sure to put details on every possible entrance, no matter how out of reach."

Derek tried to give her a disbelieving look, eyebrows raised and head tilted down, but she wasn't looking at him. In fact, she purposely spun the long way around to make her exit just to avoid seeing his face. Fine, so Derek couldn't brag right now, but he'd get her later for it. There was no denying her pride must be hurt after Derek pointed out this window as a safety issue and she chose to ignore it. It was her call, but Derek wasn't gonna be a jerk about it and rub it in her face… much.

At least this time the oversight hadn't resulted in someone losing their life.

The first thing they did after clearing the building was head to the tour bus. The man standing watch out front waved them down upon arrival and assured them that no one had attempted to come near and that the bus had also been checked and cleared of damages or suspicious items.

Inside the bus, Scott and his mother were close together, but Scott jumped up as soon as they came into view up the stairs.

"Stiles?" he asked.

"Safe with a guard. We were about to go grab him. But we wanted to debrief you first," Laura said, stopping Scott from pushing past her. "The light was tampered with. This wasn't just an accident, Ms. McCall. Someone targeted Stiles tonight."

"I thought you did a sweep of the building before the show started," Melissa said, standing as well, hands on her hips and posture distressed.

"We did. That's what worries us. If you keep our services, we fully intend to double the staff for all remaining shows. An incident won't happen again," the older Hale promised.

In front of her, Scott was bouncing anxiously. Derek knit his brow, wondering about the jitters in the guy who usually seemed so calm.

"We think they got in through the upper windows," Derek explained. "They were locked when the show began, but someone must have broken in during the opening acts. There were scratch marks by the lock. Mr. McCall, are you alright?"

"No. Stress makes it worse," Scott whined and motioned to the door. "I need to get Stiles."

"Makes what worse?" Laura asked, adopting the inherited Hale crease in her forehead.

But Derek could picture it – Stiles pale and sweaty and acting like he'd been shot. He locked eyes with Scott and then gently moved Laura out of the path. Scott's face was five times relieved as he nodded to Derek and then hurried off the bus. Almost immediately, Melissa rubbed her hands together and cleared her throat.

"I'm just- Well, I think this was a great first run aaaand I'll definitely count saving his life in your favor when Stiles and I discuss your contract," she said, obviously trying to keep the situation calm and normal.

"Thank you," Laura said, and Derek turned and left. He could hear her call after him and then subsequently apologize to Ms. McCall about his behavior, and he really wished she'd stop doing that, but at that moment he didn't have time to scold her.

Stress made it worse? Did Scott mean Stiles' condition? Had Derek accidentally left Stiles somewhere with a medical condition flaring up? Damn it. Now they definitely wouldn't get the job. Save his life just to leave him in pain?

Scott got to the room a minute before Derek, but Jordan was just conceding to letting him pass when Derek rounded the corner. Usually the rule was not to let anyone in until Derek or Laura said so, but Jordan probably recognized Scott from the mini-orientation that'd had earlier, so Derek wouldn't hold it against him. When he saw Derek, he shrugged. Stiles must not have made much of a fuss in the last hour if his guard was that calm.

The door opened and Stiles leaned on the doorframe, upper forearm in a death grip.

"Next time, I'll drop a stage light on you," he said, staring over Scott's shoulder at Derek.

"Oh he's fine," Derek grunted. "He's still sarcastic."

"We'll see how sarcastic it is when you're squished to death," Stiles shot back.

Scott put on hand on Stiles' shoulder and drew away the singer's attention before Derek could make a comeback. The two young men stared intently at each other for a long moment before Scott murmured, "Be honest. How bad is it?"

Stiles pressed his lips together, but didn't get a chance to answer. Kira Yukimura came trotting down the hall, messenger bag on her shoulder. Her boots didn't grip the tile floor, but she still managed to slide into position by Stiles as though she'd planned it.

"Wh-Whoa. Sorry. Um, here." And she pulled a medicine case from the bag. "Dad thought you, uh… might need this." But while she was handing the pills to Stiles, her eyes were on Scott.

"Thanks, Kira. But you don't need to use me as an excuse to come see Scott," Stiles said, popping the case open. While Kira and Scott flubbed for an answer, Stiles just smirked and dry-swallowed a much smaller pill than last time. Then he motioned to Derek with the case. "Say – were you worried about me?"

"No," Derek shot back a bit too fast.

"That's right," Stiles said, and though he was smiling, Derek was sure there was a hidden threat there. "Cause there's nothing to worry about, alright? I'm safe and healthy as a horse."

A dying horse, Derek thought, but kept his mouth shut. Why was Stiles so determined that no one know he was ill? What the hell was wrong with him?

The tour bus carted them all back to a hotel for the night, and they posted a man outside of Stiles' room for extra safety. Between the two of them, Derek and Laura weren't sure if they'd have a job in the morning, so sleep was little rough. On the one hand, Derek had saved Stiles from being crushed. On the other, someone had slipped in undetected and tried to kill him. Great work. Really stellar.

The Argents would probably have a party when they heard the news.

"The Argents will never let us live this down!" a sour voice shouted over the speaker of Laura's phone for all to hear. "How could you let this happen?!"

Derek winced and tried to glare at the same time, despite the person being unable to see him. Laura gave him an apologetic look and then pressed her lips together.

"Now, now, Peter. Calm yourself. The Argents have had worse, and they know it," their mother's calming voice spoke, instantly easing some of the tense out of both siblings' backs. "The important thing is that Derek saved Stiles. That will count for more in the long run, I'm sure of it."

"Talia, how can you say that? We've been fired for less!" Peter continued, and Derek could just see him pacing and throwing his arms dramatically like the metrosexual drama queen he was.

"You've been fired for less," Talia corrected, and Laura had to cover her mouth to block out her laugh. "Derek and Laura can handle this. And I spoke with the manager. She seems very agreeable. I have no doubt that they can all find a way to work together."

"You're too easy on them," Peter growled and then they heard a distant door slamming shut.

After a moment of silence, mostly caused by the source of most of the noise no longer being present, Laura decided to speak. "You really think we can still salvage things?"

"Darling, I believe you two can do anything. I would not have sent you there if I didn't." There was a lightness to her voice, as though she could see their souls even across a phone call.

No one fully believed in psychics, although plenty of people claimed to be one. Everyone knew about the aura-sphere and it was common knowledge that the aura-sphere effected everyone's lives, but to be psychic? That was ridiculous. Unless you were Talia Hale. The woman never claimed abilities or powers, but she had skills… magical or not. Their mother could read people with uncanny accuracy and was considered wise even by people many years older than her. Even now, so far away from her, Derek could feel the charge in her deep breathing, could tell she knew something beyond explanation.

"I think you two should get some sleep," Talia finally said. "The morning will bring good news. Don't worry yourselves. You've done a wonderful job."

"Thanks, Mom," Laura answered and then paused with her finger over the 'End Call' button. Knitting her brow, she looked at Derek.

He realized a moment too late what she wanted. "Thanks, Mom," he echoed, and Laura's expression was exasperated.

"Anytime. Goodnight."

And they hung up. The siblings didn't talk afterward, not even to say their own goodnights. Instead, they just settled in to bed and turned out the lights and hoped their mother was right… as she often was.

In the morning, the siblings packed their bags and headed to meet the crew in the lobby. Stiles was sitting in a chair sideways, legs hanging over the arm and head back like he wanted to still be sleeping. Scott was saying something to him that made him snort and kept him from nodding off, and it was curious why Stiles being conscious was even necessary. It wasn't like he had a gig today.

"Morning," Ms. McCall greeted when she saw them, her smile welcoming and warm. "We discussed your performance last night at the concert and have come to a decision."

"We do apologize for our lapse," Laura began, but Ms. McCall held up a hand to politely quiet her.

"We've decided to hire you for the length of the tour," she said and Laura's face became the sun.

"Really? Oh, thank you so much. I promise you won't regret it." And the two women shook hands. There would be an official contract to sign and they'd have to fax a copy to the home office, but a handshake was almost as good at the start.

Derek was confused though. Stiles had seemed genuinely upset with him the night before. "Why?" he asked.

Ms. McCall shrugged while Laura shot him a look that told him to stop questioning their second chance. "Stiles vouched for you," she said, motioning at the two boys a few feet away.

It seemed that, despite Scott's efforts, Stiles had still managed to nod off. Scott was poking him in the face and trying to rouse him, but Stiles just turned his head away and grumbled. It didn't make a lot of sense to Derek. Sure Derek had tackled Stiles out of the way of death, but Derek was also the two time witness to whatever was wrong with the younger man, and that didn't appear to sit well with him.

So why keep Derek around?

Preview Chapter 3:

Derek talks with Jordan Parrish, a man with no numbers or marks on his wrists, and has a run in with Stiles' liaison, Scott. And despite conflicting schedules, Derek and Stiles manage to have a decent conversation.