Derek reread the text he'd entered.

Stay away from the house, and out of the woods. Something's going on, I'll let you know when I find out more.

He sighed and keyed in Isaac and Scott's numbers, then added Erica and Boyd, although he hadn't heard from them in months, and pressed send.


Oh God, Stiles thought as he walked up to the Argent's door and rang the bell. What am I going to say? Hello, Mr. Argent! My, you look terrifying tonight. I don't know if you remember me, I'm Stiles. You once poked me in the head and told me about your dog. You aren't thinking of killing Derek Hale, by any chance, are you? Because if, you know, you could not do that, it'd be great. Thanks!

Chris Argent opened the door and gave Stiles a dismissive once-over. "Sorry, Allison's not home now, but I'll let her know that her skinny friend stopped by."

"Heh," Stiles laughed, trying not to shake. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you, sir. May I call you 'sir'?"

"Come in," Argent said with a sigh. "He wants to talk to me. Great." he muttered under his breath, stepping aside to let Stiles into the house.

"Mr. Argent, I just wanted to-" Stiles began, but was quickly cut off.

"I know what you are," Argent grunted, "Don't think I forgot."

"Oh?" Stiles gasped, backing away slowly, "Oh! No! I'm not…" he laughed nervously, opening his mouth wide so Argent could see inside, "'Eee? No 'angs."

"You're a traitor to your kind, you run around with these things. You think they're alright, but eventually, those wolves are going to turn on you. When they do, you'd better hope someone like me is there to save your sorry ass."

"I would be honored if you saved my sorry ass, sir, honest. I have no doubt that you would do a fine job."

"Why are you here, Stiles?"

"There's a truce between the Hunters and the Wolves. It makes sense, neither of you want trouble, and you both want to keep this town safe, right?"

"Right."

"You're not thinking about breaking it, are you?"

"I gave my word, Stiles. If the truce is broken, it won't be broken by us. You can run along and tell your Alpha that."

"Right away, sir." Stiles probably could have gotten out of the house faster, but not much faster.


"That man is horrifying!" Stiles muttered as he got into his Jeep.

"I told you I should have talked to him," Derek replied, stretched out across the back seat.

"God damn it, Derek! You won't be happy until I drop dead, will you?"

Derek tilted his head and narrowed one eye. "It'd be a start. What did he have to say?"

"Just like I thought, he's going to keep the truce. He assumes you're going to break it first." Stiles turned and glared at Derek.

"What? I'm not planning anything!"

Later, Stiles parked the Jeep in front of his house. "You want me to let you in, or are you going to stealthy-ninja yourself inside?" He asked as he walked toward the porch.

"Stiles! Wait!" Derek shouted, roughly grabbing Stiles' shoulder and pulling him back. Stiles stumbled, but Derek held him up.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Derek pointed at the ground. There was another sign etched into the dirt, right in Stiles' path. "That wasn't there when we left," Derek said, sniffing the air, "Nothing. Do you know what it means?"

"What's this one mean, Mommy?"

"That one? That's a very special sign. It means 'You can stay here, it's safe'."

"Like home, with you and Daddy?"

"Just like that. Honey, why don't you take your chalk and draw that sign in the driveway? Make it nice and big so Daddy can see it when he comes home. Mommy's tired all of a sudden, I need to go lay down."

"Stiles? Did you hear me? I asked if-"

"I heard you," Stiles snapped, turning his back to Derek. He rubbed his face vigorously and took a deep breath. "It means it's safe for you to stay here." Stiles headed to the door and unlocked it. "You coming?" He asked over his shoulder.

Derek shook his head and followed Stiles into the house. He couldn't detect any trace of whoever had left the sign in the dirt, but he didn't need to be a werewolf to pick up that something was wrong with Stiles. Sitting down at the kitchen table, Derek shook his head when Stiles offered him a cold slice of pizza from the fridge.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," Stiles grumbled, taking a bite of the pizza.

Derek raised his eyebrows.

"Okay, you know what? You asked. No, I'm not okay. Every time I see your face, I just know that before too long, there's going to be blood and yelling and… teeth! It's never a good thing when you're around! Why do you keep dragging me into this?"

Derek sighed, "You said it yourself. When it comes to people I know will help me, you're pretty much it, Stiles. I piss you off, you piss me off, but we help each other out, because that's what we do."

"You big softy," Stiles scoffed, "You don't piss me off that much, most of the time."

"How did you learn about these hobo signs? That's a weird thing to know, even for you."

"My mom taught me," Stiles began, "It was a game we played, she'd hide things, leave me clues, and I'd have to go find them. It was kind of stupid, but I had fun."

"Nah, it's not stupid," Derek replied, a ghost of a smile on his face, "It's nice. My mother did the same sorts of things. Probably a few more deer carcasses involved…"

"Deer… That's disgusting." But Stiles laughed all the same. His eyes found the clock over the stove, and he suddenly felt like yawning. "It's getting late, I'll grab you some pillows and a blanket. There's an air mattress on the shelf of my closet, if you huff and you puff, it shouldn't take too long to blow up."

The next morning, Stiles rolled onto his back and hung his head over the edge of the bed.

"How'd you sleep?"

Derek glowered. "You. Snore. So. Much."

"I do not!"