A/N: So, I'm going to attempt and update this once a day and just knock this thing out in the next week. That's prolly not gonna happen, but I'm staying hopeful and I'm rather excited about it. ^^ Anyways! Please R&R and listen to Carolina before/after/during reading!

He'd been so drunk and Kate Argent had been practically fondling him the whole night. Stiles was home sick and he was supposed to be there- taking care of him like a good boyfriend should.

Instead he'd been at some party, wasted, and taking more stock in Kate's words than anyone ever should. She was a crooked spider of a woman and somehow she'd convinced him that he was only blowing off steam- doing Stiles a favor since the other boy didn't want to be pressured into anything.

The hurt and betrayal that shone through those damnably large and expressive eyes when he found out a week later made it so very crystal clear what a lie those words had been.

And maybe Derek had known it all along- maybe he was looking for a reason to self-destruct, as he always was. Maybe he was just drunk and young. He hasn't quite decided yet.

But with the words that come spilling out of Stiles mouth up on stage- a decision has been made. There's no ignoring it this time, no running away. Stiles had made the first move, brought it out into the open, and when he got off that stage, Derek would have to have something ready to say.

He'd made it as far as Carolina before he turned back around.

He'd never told Stiles, but throughout all those years of the two of them dreaming of all the places they'd go, never bothering to think where and when they might stop, he'd had this secret dream of the two of them drinking sweet tea on some ramshackle porch, complaining about the heat, discussing a trip to the shore.

So he'd packed the bare minimum- a single suitcase that could fit on the back of his bike, but allowed himself the saddlebag space for a box of keepsakes he couldn't bring himself to leave behind, and left without saying goodbye, or how truly sorry he was.

He thought that he'd be able to take some refuge in the rolling hills and willow trees, forget the taste of blood and claim of love as each passing town brought with it a larger sense of safety. But he'd been there less than a week before he had to leave.

He tracked the mile markers, counted the days, traced the outline of the key in his pocket he'd never been able to give back. But when he made it, he'd gotten scared.

Derek realized by now Stiles had graduated, he'd probably left, done the same as he had and taken off to leave the pain behind. If he did- Derek would probably never be able to track him down, left to live with his guilt forever.

But even worse was the thought that he was still there- spirit broken or dream tarnished all because of him. And so he came here, and waited for the time when he was finally brave enough to face his mistakes and find out if he would ever get the chance to set them right.

And now here it was- standing in front of him.

So he continues to mix drinks, trying his best to pay attention to what he's doing though the gentle sound of Stiles' voice is constantly snagging his attention.

He waits for what seems like an eternity and the blink of an eye at the same time. But when the spotlight goes out, and the tables begin to clear and Stiles walks off stage and into the back room, he nearly starts to hyperventilate.

He'd always been sort of socially inept, but whenever it had come to Stiles, everything had just seemed easier. The other boy took him for what he was and even at some point seemed to love him for it. And now?

What if he hated Derek for what he'd done? What if he no longer felt anything towards him? At least anger meant that there were still feelings, still some kind of affinity, but if there was nothing? What would he do then?