Stiles left Scott's office when it was made abundantly clear that Scott was trying to cheer him up by talking about Allison. So as he blocked out Scott's inane chatter, he made up his mind to head down to the basement where the shooting range was. He couldn't think of a better way to let out his frustration at the entire situation.

He made the trek down the dark and rather dirty stairs and made his way into the shooting range. Just the smell of the room calmed him down a little. It smelled familiar; like he was somewhere uncomplicated where he didn't have to worry about the issues of his life. Here Stiles could bleach the image of the mutilated body from his mind. Here he wasn't concerned with werewolves or attacks, grumpy new partners or memories that still haunted him. Here Stiles was just Stiles. He was in his element and there was no gray area to navigate or mysteries to solve.

Grabbing ear plugs and goggles, Stiles pulled out his handgun and shut out the world. The anger and the indignation bled away as each shot rang out in the room. In their wake they left just confusion and sadness. After emptying three clips into the target, Stiles dropped the still hot gun on the counter and tore out his earplugs. He let his body slide down the wall until he was sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees as he stared into space and fought to hold back the hysterics that sought to claim him.

Anger was better he decided. Anger stopped him from thinking too hard about his life. It stopped him from recalling the things better left hidden. More importantly anger had helped him focus so that his life felt a little less out of control for a brief moment. Stiles let out a sound that was almost a laugh but sounded more like a sob when it occurred to him that maybe he should thank Derek for being such a dick. Who would have thought that some asshole strolling in acting like he was better than everyone would be such a good distraction?

Derek sat in the office for twenty minutes or so before he angrily stood up. He wasn't even sure anymore who he was angry at. Mostly himself. However when Derek got mad he exuded an aura of anger that seemed to be directed at everyone at once so sometimes even Derek got confused about who the anger was actually towards.

He stalked to the front of the station and practically demanded to know where Stiles was. Danny, who was apparently on desk duty that day, didn't even react to the hostility coming off Derek in waves. Instead he answered, "I don't know. Maybe if you hadn't insulted him you wouldn't have lost him. What I do know is that when you find him, you should try to actually get to know the guy. I don't care if you like Scott, Isaac, Jackson or the Sheriff; I don't even care if you like me, but Stiles deserves a partner who respects and likes him. If you can't deliver that then you and I are going to have some issues." With that, Danny turned his back on Derek and resumed the paperwork he had been doing when Derek stormed in.

Derek stood frozen for a moment. Danny's words had effectively cooled off the remaining anger Derek had harbored and now more than ever he wanted to apologize to Stiles. "Would you know where he was if I told you I was trying to apologize to him?"

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"And will it be a good apology that actually makes Stiles realize that you mean it?"

Derek was silent. He honestly didn't know. Instead of answering properly he said, "I'm not good at apologies."

Danny sighed, "He's probably in the basement. He goes down there to shoot when he gets stressed out."

Derek almost said thank you, but he wasn't good at thank you's either so instead he just nodded his acknowledgement and left.

He slowly walked down the steps, wondering as he went whose job it was to clean them, and opened the door to the shooting range. He stopped in the doorway when he saw that Stiles was indeed in the room. Derek stared for a moment as he tried to reconcile his image of Stiles as a young and slightly idiotic detective with the man he saw in front of him. Stiles stood with perfect form and even better aim. One shot after another rang out and each bullet found its target as Stiles expertly ejected the case and shot off another round.

For the first time, Derek truly considered that perhaps his new partner actually had some talent. Maybe, this annoying kid had more to him than just being the son of the sheriff. Derek found himself mesmerized by the precision and grace that Stiles moved with. There was only one word Derek could really use to sum it up. In that moment, Stiles was beautiful.

As the last echoes of gunfire faded, Derek started to approach Stiles, fully intending to give an apology. One that he suspected may be a whole lot more sincere than he had originally thought. Stiles' actions halted him though. Stiles hadn't noticed Derek and instead of heading towards the door he appeared to crumble against the wall. The strong powerful man from just seconds ago turned instantly into a broken looking one. His arms curled around his legs and his face was buried in his arms. Derek was at a loss; he had no idea if he should approach Stiles or let him be. When an anguished sound halfway between a sob and a laugh tore out of Stiles' throat Derek decided to quietly leave the boy in peace.

Derek quietly returned to his office. His mind was reeling with all these new images if Stiles. This almost stranger who had seemed so carefree and naïve was starting to change in Derek's mind. He resolved then that despite disliking Beacon Hills, he wouldn't hate its people. Stiles was a mystery in every sense of the word and Derek yearned to solve him. Derek needed to solve him. More importantly, Derek felt an inexplicable desire to never hear that broken sound come from Stiles' lips again. Instead he wanted to see the confidence and power that he had seen as Stiles peppered the target with bullets.

Stiles didn't come back upstairs for almost an hour. When he finally did Derek was gone. What Stiles found instead was a small yellow sticky note with the words, "I'm sorry. – Derek"

A small smile crept onto Stiles face and he pulled a blank sticky note out of his own desk. On it he wrote, "I forgive you. – Stiles" And he stuck the note on Derek's computer screen. After a brief second of thought, he decided to add a second note. Stiles recalled Derek accusing him of only joining the force because it was easy and Stiles wasn't the sort of person to just let a misconception stand. He wanted to correct Derek's view of him. "It was for my mom by the way. I joined the force after she died so that I could try to make sure no other child ever had to watch their mom get murdered. - Stiles"

What Stiles hadn't expected was for those two sticky notes to start something between Derek and him. When Stiles arrived at work the next day he had found another note, this time on his keyboard. On it was scrawled, "I may have judged you unfairly."

Stiles looked across the room at Derek where he sat hunched over his own desk. The amount of effort Derek put into trying to look like he had nothing to do with the note was almost amusing. In truth, it touched Stiles with a hint of sadness. He wondered what in Derek's life had made him unable to admit these sorts of things out loud. Stiles made the decision to respect the fact that Derek clearly didn't want to talk in person about anything so with sticky notes and silence they formed a strange friendship.

"Everyone makes mistakes. I'm sorry too for not telling you everything I know about the case. I get why you're frustrated at me for that. – Stiles"

"Does that mean if I asked again you would tell me more? – Derek"

"No. Now we have a new case to work on. I can finish off the old one. – Stiles" Stiles noticed the distinct frown on Derek's face when he read that note.

"Will you at least tell me if there have been any more attacks? – D"

"None. It's been quiet lately. – S"

"How are the people doing that got attacked? – D" Derek stared in confusion at Stiles as he read the note. Stiles looked crushed for a moment and then he had stood up abruptly saying he was going for an early lunch. Derek quickly jotted down a second note for Stiles to find.

"I'm sorry for whatever I said wrong. – D"

"No. Don't apologize. It's just that I knew a few of the people who got attacked. I knew the one who died. He was my partner. Boyd. He was a good man. – S" Until that note, Stiles hadn't realized that he was just like Derek with these notes. Both of them were using them to say the things they couldn't voice out loud.

"I'm sorry, Stiles. Losing people isn't easy. – D" Stiles audibly gasped when he read it. It was the first time Derek had used his name. For once he was 'Stiles,' instead of, 'Stilinski,' and it felt amazing to finally be just Stiles.

Stiles stared at his computer screen with displeasure. He had finally come across an answer to one of the many questions they had about the murder and it wasn't good. More specifically it wasn't one he could share with Derek. The mysterious way the man had been killed was apparently a three-fold death. Also known as a sacrifice. The sort that involved magic. Magic of course falling into the category of things that he couldn't talk to his partner about. At least he couldn't be completely open about it.

Stiles cleared his throat to get Derek's attention. "So, I've got something." Derek stared at him in what Stiles assumed was a signal to continue. "This murderer, I think they may have been going for a sacrifice. They may actually believe in that sort of thing."

"So we're dealing with a crazy person?"

"Most likely. Yeah." Well it wasn't a lie. The person probably was crazy. That didn't mean they weren't actually magic. Stiles made a mental note to talk to Deaton. Deaton knew about magic.

"Well at least it's a starting point. I was getting really sick of dead ends."

Jackson had come back a few days ago and Stiles was starting to notice that Derek acted strangely around him. Granted most people did because Jackson was kind of a jerk, but Derek was just being downright weird. He was practically stalking the guy through the building at times as if he was trying to catch him doing something. What he thought he would catch Jackson doing was a mystery.

Stiles was actually pretty proud of Jackson and the way he was handling his new werewolf powers. Even though he was constantly mad at people, he didn't seem to lose control much. There had been a few times that Stiles thought perhaps he'd seen a flash of yellow in Jackson's eyes or a slightly pointier tooth but for the most part he remained completely human. Stiles was almost positive that Derek hadn't noticed any of the wolf moments Jackson had.

Derek had noticed some strange things around Jackson. Twice he had been positive that his eyes changed color when he got mad. Once he had lifted a full filing cabinet when he thought no one was looking. Neither of these things was even close to normal. What was worse was that Stiles clearly knew what was happening. He had been standing right next to Jackson one of the times his eyes had changed and he hadn't even reacted.

Derek found himself quite enjoying the strange written friendship he and Stiles had struck up and he didn't want to ruin it by calling Stiles out on what was happening but he was getting tired of not knowing.

Before he left work he left a note that said, "Whatever is going on in this town, I promise I can handle it. I need you to trust me, Stiles. – D"

All he got back was, "I'm sorry, Derek. I can't. – S"