Alrighty everybody here is chapter three. I'm hoping I will quell some of your sterek appetites here but we'll see how this goes. Please continue to comment and review. It is all incredibly helpful! (P.S. and Btw's: if I reply to one of your comments, can one of you lovelies reply back to me so I know you got it? I don't know how that whole thing works with the messaging because I'm technologically challenged, so I wanna make sure y'all get my responses.)

Okay, without further ado, Chapter 3!

3

Stiles stored the bleach back under the sink in his bathroom. After thoroughly rinsing the cloth he had used to clean the blood on the floor, he threw that in the washing machine down the hall with a load of whites.

Back in his room, Stiles collapsed on his bed, wincing as the new set of gashes stung against his lower stomach. The bandages pulled uncomfortably at the scabs from last night's injuries as well. Why do you do this to yourself? Stiles questioned himself. Isn't it obvious? You must be perfect to be of any importance to anyone. Right now, you are nothing more than a waste of space, a burden on everything and everyone around you. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, trying to silence the voice that echoed through his head again and again. Worthless…Imperfect….Worthless…Imperfect….Worthles s…

The buzz of his cell phone distracted him yet again. Stiles pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. Seeing it was Scott who was calling for the nine billionth time, he once again slid the red bar to the right, ignoring the call. He immediately threw his phone across his room where it landed with a dull thud on the wooden floor. The phone buzzed again.

Leave me the fuck alone. Stiles cursed at his phone, hoping by some miracle it would actually obey his command. The phone continued to vibrate against the floor defiantly. Scott is annoyingly persistent, Stiles thought. Am I being a bit immature about this? Shouldn't I at least hear what he as to say? Then Stiles shook his head. Wait a damn minute he is the one who fucking punched me… Fuck him.

Stiles continued to let the phone vibrate, and after what seemed like an eternity, the phone fell silent. Stiles sighed in relief, only to be startled by a pounding knock at the front door.

"Stiles, open up I know you're in there!" Scott's dampened voice sounded from downstairs. "C'mon let me in, I wanna talk to you."

Stiles remained where he was, keeping his resolve to not accept his best friend's apology. Yet to his dismay, the knocking continued, along with Scott's pleas. In addition, his phone started vibrating again against the wooden floor.

"Stiles! Just answer one of them! Either the phone or the door, I don't care! I just wanna talk to you! C'mon man, stop being a kid about this! I said I was sorry!" Scott yelled, and the knocking grew more intense.

This continued for several more minutes, and then a blissful silence filled the house. No buzzing of the cell phone, no knocking at the door—nothing but silence. Stiles waited for a few moments more, waiting to see if Scott would resume his yelling and calling. No such thing happened. Huffing a sigh of relief, Stiles slowly got up from his bed, gripping his injured side as he did so, and lumbered downstairs to the kitchen. Rummaging through the refrigerator, Stiles settled for pouring himself a glass of orange juice and sipped it lightly, wincing as the acidic drink stung his busted lip. Thanks again for that Scott. Love that friendly gesture.

Leaning against the counter, Stiles really got to thinking. How the hell did all that come out of me…Stiles thought, thinking back to the way he blew up at his best friend. I'm usually so good at controlling it all. Stiles pondered that for a moment. If anyone were to get hurt from his emotional rampages, it was himself. Stiles was not one to just let his feelings out like that, especially at other people. God, I must be pretty fucked up. Then he laughed to himself. Of course you are. Look at your side. Twice in two days. Keep it up, and you'll be an ugly cross-hatched scratchboard. The voice inside his head darkly whispered. Well, I've already got that ugly part on lock, Stiles told himself. He sighed and took another sip of orange juice.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Sweet mother of—"Stiles jumped and the glass in his hand shattered on the linoleum floor, sending orange juice in all directions.

In an instant fit of anger, Stiles stormed to the front door yanking it open. "Scott, if I fucking wanted to talk to you I would have returned one of your gazillion ph—"

Derek looked up from the porch with those glittering hazel eyes. "Is this a bad time?" He said softly.

"Derek…" Stiles was at a loss of what to say. "Since when do you use the front door…or even knock?" Good one Stiles…He mentally slapped himself. "I mean, hey. No it's not."

"I heard something break, are you okay?" Derek stepped across the threshold.

"Oh yeah, sure, fine, come right in, no biggie. Just my house." Mental slap. "Yeah sorry, I was just thinking about something and you scared me."

"Thinking about Scott?" Derek pressed.

Oh my god, he is so close… Oh my god he smells so good I…Stiles pulled himself together. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh just the way you ripped my head off opening the door." Derek's eyes flashed.

"Oh… That. Well I mean... I didn't technically rip your head off. That's you. I'm not the big, bad alpha wolf thingy. Just plain old Stiles. Nothing special, you know… Just plain old hundred forty-seven pound Stiles with nothing but sarcasm—"

"Stiles…" Derek stepped forward, seriously encroaching in Stiles' personal bubble, and Stiles loved every second of it.

"Sorry." Stiles looked down.

"Are you alright?"

Do I look alright? And since when do you care? "I'm fine. We just got into a small argument."

"Yeah, Scott called me. Said you were pretty upset today, and then you just blew up on him, and he overreacted a bit and now you're mad at him. He wants me to talk to you, since you're scared of me, and you'll listen."

"I'm not scared of yo—okay well he didn't overreact a bit. He overreacted a lot."

"I noticed." Those gorgeous eyes flicked to his mouth, and then back to his brown eyes. "I'm sorry."

Da fuck? Derek Hale… sorry? "Um… It's no big deal. I mean I said some things I shouldn't have because I was in a bad mood and all. I'm in the wrong here so I deserved it. I mean you know how I get once I start talking, I can't stop. Then there was this whole not sleeping thing for the last couple of days and I was really tired and angry and irritable and Scott rubbed me the wrong way but I'm fine now and there's no need to worry I fucked up and—"

"Stiles!" Derek's eyes flashed again.

Why do they do that? It's almost as if he…cares? Stiles pondered. Ha-ha who are you kidding? Derek? Care? We've been over this Stiles. You're nowhere near good enough to be cared for by him. "Sorry. Did it again, didn't I?" Stiles blushed and looked down. "Sorry."

"Dammit Stiles stop apologizing!" Derek gripped his shirt and slammed him against the foyer wall.

Once the shock left the boy's face, a dark, almost sad expression clouded his features. "Your turn, huh?" Stiles' voice wavered quietly. "Need your daily dose of beating Stiles too?" This is the closest you'll ever get. Just take the beating. That's all you'll ever get from him. Close enough for him to hurt you. Stiles trembled against Derek's close proximity, all in fear, sadness, pain, and want.

"Stiles…No…Look, I… I didn't mean…" Derek's instantly turned ruby eyes reverted back to an almost hazel shade—something different tinting the beautiful color. Worry? "I should go." Derek paused for a glorious second, eyes glancing over Stiles' face. Then he was gone.

After a moment, Stiles slid down the wall, his breathing becoming quicker and shallower, while his heartbeat escalated to an alarming rate. Gasping for breath, Stiles pulled his knees to his chest and fell into the fetal position. His mind riled in a hurricane of thoughts. It was getting harder and harder to breath, and finally Stiles gave up his mental fight, and succumbed to the panic attack.

So I know this didn't turn out as Sterek-y as we all want. But hey, I need to keep you guys interest somehow! More to come!