A/N; Alright, so there seems to be heaps of confusion in regards to ages as well as teenage Derek. I've done a lot of research on how old everyone is and have come to the conclusion that Scott, Stiles and Lydia are about 17 in the beginning of the fourth season. Danny is four years older then them, she'll be turning 21 in October. In regards to Derek, his age is sort of a mystery in the show, (a driver license was shown at one point but then the writers stated it was a fake, why? Who knows) Anyways he's estimated to be somewhere between 21-25 and so, for this story I'm going to go with 24. Which all works out perfectly for me, I don't know about you guys, but I find it a little creepy when reading stories that have a 25 year old Derek dating a 16 year old.

Now, as to teenage Derek. As mentioned before, this fic is set in the beginning of the fourth season, right after the crew gets back from Mexico... Where they encounter the berserkers and find teenage Derek. This story will keep to the basic plot line, which by the end of the second episode, has him back to his tall dark and brooding 24 year old self again. I just had this adorable vision in my head of them meeting when he was young and her wet and covered in soap suds, in a cliche car wash scene. Hope that clears it up for everyone but do not hesitate to review with any questions if not.

Disclaimer; Teen Wolf and Derek Hale do not belong to me, not in the slightest. No matter how many 'accio' spells I try. He must be too far away.

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Stiles
Slamming the door, I grumbled as I made my way around to the driver's seat, cursing my best friend. Getting in I looked over at Derek, whose eyes were still on Danny. I scoffed, starting up the engine, "Don't even think about it, she's way too old for you, buddy."

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Chapter 4; Shadows of Scars

Danny

As I watched the jeep pull out and drive away, I couldn't help but stare after it. Standing there, dripping mitt in my hand, motionless and deep in thought long after it had turned the corner.

There was something, off about Derek Hale, and it had nothing to do with fact that he was a werewolf. Born and raised. I could tell that much from his deep blue aura, wolflike and pulsing it was embedded to his very core. That wasn't the unusual part, I had read plenty of shifters in my travels, all distinctive and very much their own. Although all very permanent, those who had acquired their nature through the bite appeared different to those who had been born a shifter. It was like a tattoo or brand across their aura, whereas natural born shifters were practically immersed within their animal counterpart, mirror reflections of the same soul. With Derek, the wolf twined within his very being.

His wolf was fine, a little restless but intact. It was the essence of his being, that was different. As if his aura had been scrubbed clean. Like a lingering whiff of bleach clung to him.

I shook my head, trying to make sense of it, explain it to myself in words. Not clean per say but buffed. As if someone had applied a fresh coat and his aura shock with the strain. Something like that anyways, my head hurt as I tried to describe an indescribable thing.

Finally turning back to my car, I walked around it slowly as I scrubbed off grime and bug guts. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, being a teenager was confusing enough without the added stress of the full moon and messed up auras. I made a note to ask Stiles about him, my mental checklist growing longer by the minute it seemed. I really should start writing everything down. I also needed to see Scott, check in. I cocked my head, another thought coming to mind, was the entire freaking town full of shifters? Seriously, if the mayor turns into a big snake I'm booking it to Alaska... either that or having myself committed.

I couldn't stop myself from thinking back to my encounter with Derek and was surprised when a soft blush graced my cheeks. Dark haired and lean, sporting a short sleeve green henley shirt and a pair of black jeans, he was maybe a year younger than Stiles, if that. Those pearly white teeth and that dashing grin, ugh and those adorable green eyes, boy was he going to be trouble one day. The girls of Beacon Hills weren't going to know what hit them.

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After my baby was scrubbed and polished to perfection I finally made my way inside, the growing darkness informing me just how late it was. My stomach growled, right on queue, as if it had been waiting for me to realize the time. Putting away the hose and bucket, I wiped my damp feet on the matt outside before stepping into the house. Walking into the kitchen I went over to the fridge,and upon opening it let out a dry laugh. Yup, just as expected, other than a few sparse vegetables and take out containers it was practically bare. Next I opened up the freezer, spotting a frozen container of tomato sauce. Perfect. I tapped it out into a pot before putting it on the stove. Reaching back into the fridge I pulled out three slightly mushy tomatoes and a small carton of mushrooms. Peeling back the cling wrap I looked them over hesitantly, taking them out one by one. After a thorough investigation I deemed them usable. Gently washing them and the tomatoes I chopped them up into chunky pieces, and tossed them in the pot when finished. Hopping up onto the counter I went through the spice cabinet, tossing in pinches of garlic and parsley, oregano and cayenne pepper. Leaving it there to simmer on low heat I headed upstairs.

Following a quick but much needed shower, I threw my hair up into a neat bun, a long perfected hairstyle from my brief days as a ballerina. Throwing on some blush and a quick swipe of mascara I went back to my room to change. I pulled on a pair of stretchy black work out tights and a loose cable knit sweater, sliding on my flip flops before making my way back down to the kitchen. The mouthwatering aroma of sauce hit me before I even made it down the stairs. Smiling to myself I stirred the sauce before filling a second pot up with water and sitting it on the stove. Luckily, there was a package of spaghetti noodles in the cupboard because I hadn't even thought to check before.

Twenty minutes later a steaming pot of spaghetti sat in front of me. I made myself a small bowl, devouring it quickly like a starving animal. Luckily no one was around to witness that. Next, I cleaned out the pots and set them on the rack to dry before filling up a medium sized container. I found a brown paper bag and placed it inside along with a fork, napkin and bottle of water. Throwing in the last bun from the bread basket I rolled it up and set it by the door. Grabbing my keys from their place by the door, I snatched the bag off the floor and slipped out into the night.

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I walked into the station and headed straight for the front desk. Seeing a middle aged black woman behind the desk, filing papers, I grinned. Fabulous. Leaning forward, I rested my chin in the palm of my hand.

"Special delivery for the Sheriff," I said in the sweetest voice I could muster.

The woman looked up, eyeing me steadily. I batted my lashes.

"Hayden Stilinski! Is that you?" she cried, coming out from around the desk and pulling me into her arms.

"Amelia," I smiled broadly, "It's good to see you."

"Lord, look at you," she said, twirling me around, "Now aren't you a vision... Though you still as skinny as a bird."

I rolled my eyes, every since I hit ten years old she'd been telling me the same thing. In the beginning she used to think I didn't eat. That was put to bed quick the first time she came over for a backyard barbecue. Her eyes practically rolled back in her head as she watched me pack away a cheeseburger, hot dog, a giant helping of potato salad and two slices of pecan pie. I swear I thought she was gonna fall right out of her chair with the way she was looking at me.

I smiled and shooed Amelia back to her work with a strict promise to catch up later. Then I made my way to uncle John's office, weaving in between desks and dodging deputy's going about their typical week day business. Which categorized a whole lot of nothing by the looks of it. Seeing my uncle sitting behind his desk, I gave a quick tap on the door before walking in.

"Yeah?" he asked without looking up from his reading. There were case files stacked beside him and papers spread out amongst various office tools. Coloured tabs categorized clear piles as he sorted through documents. No doubt he was going crazy looking at old case files with newly opened eyes. The silver travel mug I had left for him this morning looked to have been refilled countless times throughout the day. I plopped the bag down in front of him and took a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk.

He groaned, opening the bag and pulling out the container of spaghetti, "You're spoiling me, kiddo."

"Hey," I said, scrunching up my nose at him, "Sheriff's gotta eat."

I sat with him while he ate, rambling about my day when he asked. Which, as I informed him was productive but by know means exciting. Immediately I pushed down the image of Derek Hale as it rose to the forefront of my mind.

"So no time for job hunting in town, huh?" he asked me, a strange glint in his eye.

"No. Whyyyyy?" I asked him, leaning forward.

"Well," he started, clearing his throat, "I had a thought."

He paused, building suspense.

"Yes?" I said, urging him on.

"Why don't you work here? We could use someone at the front desk. You'd be answering phones, filing and making photocopies, typical office stuff." He bit into his bun, then used it to soak up the leftover pasta sauce in the container.

Hm. Not exactly what I was thinking of but the notion did have clear advantages. Especially with everything that seemed to be going on in this town.

Watching me think it over, he added to his proposition. "I reckon it's a better paying job then any you'd find in town. Besides we could use someone with your... Talents, around here."

Ahh, I suspected that might be what he was getting at. My eyebrows rose, "Meaning what exactly?"

"Meaning we've locked up a couple werewolves on the full room before, not just once either. It didn't end well. With this town becoming a hotspot for the paranormal... supernatural... Whatever you want it call it, we could use all the help we can get."

I had to admit that he was right. Especially if there really was some hellmouth thingy drawing the creepy crawlies into town, I'm sure things would be getting hairy again soon.

I sighed, a small smile coming to my face, "When do I start?"

He beamed at me, relief evident behind his eyes, "Eight o'clock sharp."

I was smart enough to realize that the relief I saw wasn't just for the extra 'super' help he would be getting at the station.

Collecting his container and fork, I dropped them back in the bag. Heading towards the door, I turned back to look at him, testing my theory.

"This isn't just a ploy to keep me close, is it? Keep me safe?"

He gave me a pensive meaningful look, "I'd be lying if said that thought wasn't at the back of my mind, kiddo."

I turned towards the door, half way out, before he spoke again. Voice low, almost a whisper, it stopped me in my tracks.

"Besides, I don't think there's anywhere safe left in this town."

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I drove home with the radio off, deep in thought. The sky stretched out from horizon to horizon, like a dark billowing sheet it swirled overhead. Soft shadowy clouds danced across the atmosphere, hiding stars that appeared to be twinkling in the rolling waves. The skyline was uninterrupted by sky scrapers, billboards and condominiums but lush with trees and nestled with small businesses and homes. It was nothing like the smog filled cities I was used too, with grey ceilings and littered alleys. The streets here were quiet, almost empty in the late night, peaceful. Or... was everyone just hiding inside? Did they rush to their cars and drive straight home, not venturing out unless necessary? Had the people of Beacon Hills ultimately learned to fear the dark? I replayed the last few words my uncle had said, over and over again in my head. What the hell had happened to this town? Had it really changed that drastically? Supes usually coexisted underneath the mortal sphere, normal ones at least, going about their day to day business, almost indistinguishable from humans. Even when something big and bad rose up, the supes usually took care of it on their own, under the radar. What had caused the flux of ordinary goings in Beacon Hills to change? I needed to speak to my cousin, maybe Scott too, get the entire story, the whole lowdown.

When I arrived home the jeep wasn't there, just perfect.

I made herself a quick cup of peppermint tea before retreating to my room. Setting the mug down on the bedside table I opened up my laptop and put on some quiet music. I took my hair out and changed into my pajamas, which consisted of a pair of blue checkered boxer shorts and a loose fitting black tank top. Making a quick stop in the bathroom, I washed up, cleaning my face and brushing my teeth. I desperately needed a face mask. One more thing on the shopping list. As I finished up, I reached down under the sink, digging through my toiletry bag.

"Ah ha!" I shrieked, pulling out a bottle of nail polish, "just the one I was looking for."

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Not even half an hour later, the front door opened. Signaling Stiles' arrival home. I was just putting the final touches on the second coat when he opened the door to my room. I wiggled my deep burgundy toe nails at him, as he stuck his head in, "What do you think?"

He rolled his eyes, ignoring the question as he came in and flopped down beside me on the bed. Rolling over he caught site of the picture on my end table. He reached out for the paint splattered frame, a sad longing look on his face.

"I remember this day," he said quietly, "It was a good day."

I reached up, grasping his hand, "It was a perfect day."

He cleared his throat, wiping his face before delicately placing the frame back on her side table.

"I need to know what happened, Stiles. To this town. To you. To Scott."

"Are you sure?" he asked me, "You can't go back to ignoring it once you know... believe me, I've tried."

I gave him a long hard look, wrapping my arms around my legs as I rested my head on top of my knees. "Ignoring it has never been an option for someone like me."

He took a deep breath and started from the beginning.

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It took him two hours to fill me in on everything. It was far worse than I had ever imagined.

From that first night in the woods, to meeting Derek Hale. Scott becoming a werewolf and his romance with Allison. The argents, specifically Kate and Gerard along with the alpha, who turned out to be Derek's comatose uncle. He spoke about Derek building up as well as losing his pack. The kanima switching masters and leaving bodies littered around town. The arrival of the alpha pack was a shock to me, something I had never heard of before. Scott becoming a true alpha was a pleasant surprise though. The alpha twins. Things got even more bizarre as he got into the the ritualistic murders and their english teacher turning out to be a Darach. Lydia coming in to her latent powers as a banshee and them having no choice but to sacrifice themselves to restore the nemeton.

I interrupted him, putting up a hand to silence him. My eyes watered as I stared at him, unblinking. "You died?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Hey," he said putting his arm around me and pulling me in close, "It was only for like, five minutes."

"Five minutes too long," I whispered leaning my head on his shoulder. I couldn't believe I had lost him. Unknowingly. Even if it had only been for a second, he had been gone. Not for the first time I hated myself for not telling him, not trusting him enough to be able to bear the weight of my gift. Could I have prevented all of this bloodshed? Prepared him for what was to come?

He took another deep breath before continuing the story, this time almost struggling to get the words out.

The nightmares and hallucinations, him, Scott and Allison were forced to undergo. A side effect of the ritual they had used to find their parents. He smiled when he spoke of them finding Malia and meeting Kira. Then learning of her kitsune powers just as Stiles began to lose time, going crazy as the nightmares bled into his waking life. The oni showing up.

"Demonic ninjas?" I interceded.

Figuring out his connection to Barrow, planting the bombs and sleeping walking miles from home. His MRI, to checking himself into Eichen House, Malia his only silver lining. Finally he came to the nogitsune making itself known, losing all control of himself. I could tell it was painful for him, looking back at his part in all of it. Even after the dark spirit split from him, walking around tormenting his friends, all the while wearing Stiles' face. His voice cracked as he spoke about losing Allison and Aidan.

"I mean, you'd think we'd be used to it by now. Heather, Tara, Erica, Boyd, Aidan, Allison..."

My eyes softened as I reached out to him, my heart aching as I recognised a couple names from our childhood. "You never get used to loss Stiles, ever."

He finished the story with their recent trip to Mexico. Where they encountered the Calaveras and the Berserkers, finding Derek Hale and discovering Kate Argent, back from the dead.

"And well tonight she used him to get into the Hale family vault. Though apparently it was all part of some grander scheme to steal a hundred and seventeen million dollars worth of bearer bonds."

"That's so sad. He's so young to have gone through so much."

It seemed almost every other sentence revolved around Derek almost being impaled and almost dying to being thrown in jail or disappearing for days on end. I thought of the charming teenager I had seen only this afternoon, what a weight for such a young person to shoulder. I stared at Stiles, realizing the subtle changes in him that I had not noticed before. He too had had to bear so much. The echoes of tragedy behind his smiling eyes, the horrors he has witnessed, been apart of, that would never desert his mind. Even his aura was different, darker in places as if stained by the darkness that he had encountered. But also I couldn't deny the strength that was written across ever fibre of his being, to have come so close to the abyss and not tumble over its edge would leave its lasting mark on him.

I was broken out of my dark brooding thoughts by Stiles' laughter.

"Who Derek? He's like old."

I deadpanned, "We are talking about the kid I met today aren't we...?

"Yeah. Oh.. Oooh! No. He was just transformed back to his younger... Teenage self. It was a whole thing. I must have forgotten to mention that."

"Yes," I said, "It seems you did."

I looked off, lost in thought, "That was why his aura was so clean..." I whispered to myself.

"Huh," Stiles asked, "What about Derek's aura?"

"Well, I could tell he was a werewolf, immediately. Being born a shifter as opposed to bitten, it's in his very nature, his being. But... something was off, as if someone had buffed off, or over, a layer of his essence... It's hard to explain."

No, no," Stiles supplied, gears turning, "It makes sense. She changed who he was but not entirely because it was who he was at some point.. Just not anymore."

I laughed at his choice in words, "Would you believe that I actually understood that."

"Of course," He beamed, "I'm a genius."

I rolled my eyes, reaching out to my now cold mug of tea. Downing what was left.

"So," my cousin started, "What brings you here? Not that I'm not happy you are!" he interjected quickly.

I sighed, leaning back against the headboard.

"I just got tired of it all. Tired of following her around. Of not being as important as her headlining stories. I left a couple times throughout the years, or well stayed I guess. You know I was in boarding school in London for most of high school, until they kicked me out. She had no choice but to tote me around after that. I transferred from school to school but eventually managed to get my diploma."

"Yeah, I remember something about that, one of the last full summers you spent here was just before you finished," he supplied for her.

"Yup. After that, I mostly just followed her along. Taking college classes and bar tending whenever we stayed long enough in one place. Sometimes she'd just leave. I'd wake up to find a note or come home from school to find her gone. Just like that, as if she had forgotten about me. There were times when I followed her but a lot of the time I just stayed. Crashing on friends couches or renting a place, to finish the semester. Once I had my very own dorm room, stayed for a full term. It was rough at times... but I got buy. I sold some pictures," I exclaimed. Changing my tune I gestured to my strip of photos hanging on the wall, causing Stiles to get up and go over to them.

I followed him, pointing out the photo of me with my friends at the UT Dallas homecoming game. "That was one of the times I decided to stay. Ran with a pack of wolves actually. Spent a year and a half there, finishing my Bachelors Degree in Photography. Didn't stay for graduation though."

"Ran with a pack of- Wait, why didn't you go to your graduation?"

"From time to time Mum decides to be... Motherly and sends for me. Usually after wining some prize or award for one of her pieces. She buys a plane ticket and promises things will be different. That usually lasts about a month at times. Maybe two. Until, she sniffs out a new 'Third-World in Turmoil' piece or some corrupt authority exposé."

I turned back to the bed, sitting down cross-legged.

"I just got tired of it. Tried of living out of my duffle. I wanted-"

Stiles walked back over to the bed, crouching down in front of me, "You wanted to come home."

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A/N; I hope that clears up a lot of question that you all might have had. Sorry about the no Derek, it hurts me too. Remember to review! xx