Authors Note: Just watched the High Road as one of my reviewers recommended it to me ages ago. I don't smoke weed and the plot was bland… but DYLAN O'BRIEN WAS IN IT. That was the sole reason I watched that movie. For him. God I love him. That's the actor that plays Stiles, in case you didn't know.

Also, I've got another teen wolf story out now. Peter/Stiles with minimal actual slash. Check it out! It's called Tracing the Moonlight. s/8395910/1/

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"So what is going on exactly?" He rubbed his tongue on the upper ring of his teeth as he waited for an answer.

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That was a loaded question. It was loaded with sadness and the things that Derek had tried so hard to shelter Stiles from. He already tore Stiles from Scott, but he didn't want to tear him away from anything else. It killed him; it really did, to see the boy suffer in confusion and sadness. Whenever there was something Stiles didn't know, didn't understand, he would look it up and research it until he understood every last detail of it. Not knowing, that sick state of ignorance, was Stiles largest pain. And as Derek looked at the brown beady eyes that stared up for an answer, Derek shook his head, giving in.

Stiles scooted across the bed and Derek sat down gently next to him. His eyes slowly rolled around his head and he pressed his fingertips to his sweating brow. Sweating. Derek thought with disgust as he felt the damp layer that coated over his skin. Why the hell am I sweating from this?

And as Derek looked across the bed at Stiles he knew why. He was afraid. The big bad wolf, leaping from roof tops and jumping before bullets and dodging paralytic Kanima toxins and standing down Argent hunter glares, was afraid. He didn't want to break the kid. He didn't want to tell him all the problems Stiles was causing; he didn't want Stiles to believe anything was his fault. None of it was.

"Is there like a magic word you're waiting for to start?" Stiles interrupted through the silence. The patience was leaving him, he was desperate for answer. Stiles stared hard at the wolf. He tried to ignore how Derek looked at him, how much the wolf looked in pain to open his mouth.

Derek shot him a brief look of annoyance. Part of him wondered why he cared this much. Why his wolf scraped at the edges of his mind every time he saw that stupid grin on his face. But Peter's wolf had sensed something in Stiles and that same feeling sprung up in Derek. It was the way he put others ahead of himself, his determination, his loyalty, and all those things that appealed to the pack. But it was scent that drove Derek crazy. So close to his, coated in his scent, especially sitting here in his sheets, Derek could smell himself on Stiles. He could smell himself on all of his wolves, even in Scott as the force of an Alpha flowed through his veins. But under Stiles was the scent of a human. So close to the scent of the werewolf, but corrupted with the putrid stinging scent of humans.

"Seriously," Stiles started again, "Whatever you're going to say, just say it. I can handle it."

"You're in a lot of danger Stiles." Derek began.

Stiles coyly rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that new information. Really, I had no idea." All the werewolf fights and bruises weren't obvious enough.

"Then why do you do this? Why do you let yourself be put in harms way? You're not a werewolf or a hunter, this isn't your battle."

Stiles sat in a moment of silence. Why. Why do I do this? Why do I, the human, even involve myself?

"Is it because of Scott?" Derek asked, looking into Stiles eyes and feeling his heart rate rocket up at the name.

Yes. It was Scotts romp through the woods that brought the crushing reality of mythical creatures called werewolves into Stiles lives. And it was for Scott that he stayed through all the fights. Stiles fidgeting on the bed, enough of a response for Derek.

But it was more than just Scott. Stiles hated the moment he found out the grand secret that werewolves existed. This massive secret, kept hidden, lurking right under the worlds nose. He wanted to know more about this world, even if he was just an outsider looking in.

And he couldn't go back. He could never go back. He could never forget werewolves, and he didn't want to. He didn't ever want to live in ignorance of the world.

Why do I do this?

For myself. At first it was for Scott. But gradually, this became the one thing that made him different. He was the sole human in the group, and Matt could make as many werewolf bitch comments as he wanted, but Stiles enjoyed the drama, the action- just being a part of it. He didn't want to find himself left out again and again.

But instead of the truth he came up with a sarcastic response- that was always better than the truth and safer too. "Unlike other teenage boys I prefer chasing werewolves, not watching porn or going to crazy parties."

Derek couldn't help as a small smile peaked at the edges of his lips. There was always more going on in that humans head than he would ever say, always laced hidden under the blanket of sarcasm.

"And unlike other teenage boys," Derek mimicked with a smart expression, "You enjoy hanging out with werewolves but not actually being one."

"It makes me stand out as an individual." Stiles replied. I should put that down on my college applications.

"It also makes you a very…" Obnoxious Derek thought, "Complicated person."

But Stiles couldn't quite hold back the sarcasm and unleashed a quick interruption "Me and teenage girls. We've got that whole confusing and complicated category down."

"Yes, well, teenage girls smell of cheap perfume." Derek responded. 'Where as you…" He paused, trying to think of the words.

Stiles gave an incredibly fake and offended look, leaning back away from Derek and a wide shock going through his face. "Are you saying I smell?"

"Yes, I mean no," Derek stumbled over his tongue. Stiles let out a laugh. Derek hated that. It could be the most intense mood, full of seriousness and death and Stiles could make one little sarcastic comment and everything would suddenly be awkward. But that awkward was technically the same as going back to normal. How he could just change moods like that, shift the entire environment around him, Derek hated that. Hated it, he told himself.

He felt his claws sink into the thin cushioning that filled the bed. "I mean you smell like a wolf."

"I hear that has a very natural scent. Very mystique and sort of smells like dead bunnies in a moonlit field."

Every bit of sarcastic tone grated on Derek's ears, but he still couldn't help but let out a contradicting smile and groan at the response. Maybe if I just keep talking he'll shut up.

"Look," Derek said in a serious tone, "You smell like a werewolf, but you're not a werewolf."

Hello, ladies, look at me, now back to a wolf, now back at me, now back to your wolf. Sadly, I'm not him, but if I started running around naked in the middle of the night, I could smell like a wolf. Look down; back up, where are you? You're in a forest with blood and fangs with the wolf your man could smell like. What's in your hand, back at me. I have it; it's a human organ and the sound of people screaming. Look again, the organs are now wolfs bane. Anything is possible when your man smells like a werewolf and not a Stiles.

Stiles ran through the entire Old spice commercial in his mind as it failed to grasp onto what Derek was saying.

After the commercial finished in his mind he casually lifted his underarm up and sniffed slightly. Nothing.

A look of disappointment crossed his face. He couldn't even smell the sweat that he was sure was clinging to every inch of his body.

Did he just sniff himself- Oh never mind. Derek gave up trying to understand the things that the teen did. "You can't smell it, but trust me, it's there. We can all smell it."

"And what, the smell bothers your precious little dog noses?"

"Yes, actually." Derek answered. "It's our scent, the scent of the pack, of the wolf. But underneath it is your human stench."

Stench. Stiles thought with a grimace. Good word choice Derek. Human Stench.

"It's rather disturbing to the pack nature."

Disturbing.

"You're with us all the time. And eventually our scent has rubbed off on you. So yes, you reek of a werewolf."

Reek.

"But you're not one of us."

Those words stung in Stiles' ears. You're not one of us.

Derek continued on, ignoring the flinch on Stiles face. "Underneath that scent of the pack is that crippling smell of human. It's a rotting kind of smell that burns."

"So my scent is the problem?" Stiles asked, squinting his eyes and tilting his head slightly.

Derek paused. "Yes. Every time you're with us it smells… wrong."

"And so you kidnap me and destroy my relationship with Scott because of that?' Stiles shouted, his voice rising in frustration. "I'll wear more deodorant and get some spray cologne!"

"It's what your scent does to us that's the problem. Particularly with Scott."

"Why? What does it do to Scott?"

"It's his, I suppose you could just call it his wolf senses. All of ours really, but he spends much more time with you." Derek heaved out a sigh. "The scent confusion irritates the senses."

"I irritated his senses before any of this wolf business started." Stiles interjected. "What does it do to him, exactly?" He emphasized the last word.

And you still irritate now. Derek thought in response to the sarcasm. "It's torturing to the wolf. In a way, it makes Scott loose control of his wolf."

Stiles eyed Derek, signaling that he wanted more.

"In a way you're turning him into an alpha."

"Wait, when we were at Lydia's you said he was like an alpha." And now you make it sound like it's a bad thing.

"Yes," Derek said. "That was before I knew how true it was. He can't be an alpha without a pack. Not just a pack of teenage humans and hunters. But a pack of werewolves. That's what his wolf craves."

"And…" Stiles brain began to process the information.

His wolf wanted a pack- A real pack.

His wolf wanted Stiles. "He would have turned me…"

Derek nodded roughly. "And he wouldn't have asked like Peter or I. You wouldn't have a choice in the matter. He would've turned you. He was close."

"No, no, no, I would have noticed. I would have turned around at some point and seen him eying my neck like candy. I would have noticed that!" Stiles said.

"I'm certain Scott didn't understand what was happening. Hasn't he seemed angry, over protective, clingy?" More so than normal… That boy has need issues.

"No." Stiles responded. Yes. He thought though. He had pushed off Scott's aggressive behavior on his girlfriend problems with Allison. Any teenage boy would have emotional troubles with the entire situation of the love of his life trying to kill him.

It was one day after lunch, as Stiles remembered it, pizza day in fact. He remembered Stiles talking about how he didn't want to tag along on Allison's and Scott date. He tended to get stuck in the booth watching them make out or make puppy eyes for an hour and then pay for dinner as Scott would always forget enough money. He told Scott no, it was probably the first time he did. And the last time. Scott slammed his fists on the beaten up lunch tables, leaving a sizable dent. He shouted some things about friendship, about being there for one another, and Stiles caved in, not really paying attention to the things Scott shouted.

Was this why? He needed me close as his pack… if I got to far away would have he turned me? Stiles swallowed hard and felt his brow crease under the weight of the information.

"Let's say you're right and I have the smelliest smell that has ever been smelt by a dog's nose," Stiles said. Derek was about to growl out a dog comment but Stiles continued on over the tremor of his voice, "Why the kidnapping? Why did you make him chose between Allison and I?"

I wanted you to see how little you mean to him. And really, how little he means to you. Derek though sadly at the crushed teen face. But he couldn't say it.

"He would have killed you." Derek said bluntly. "He wouldn't have just turned you; he would have sunk his teeth in and killed you if I hadn't done anything."

"But why did you have to make him choose!?" Stiles shouted. The sick salt of tears began to sting in his eyes again. Couldn't you have just neutered his alpha senses? Put a muzzle on him? Swat him with a newspaper and spray him with a spray bottle and tell him NO, NO, NO, no turning Stiles. Or killing him. Oh god, killing. Scott wouldn't have killed me. Scott wouldn't kill anything.

"It had to be Scott's decision to let you go!" Derek exclaimed back. He hated seeing the teen broken hearted like this. "His wolf needed to be convinced how wrong you were for his pack, how much you didn't want to be a part of his pack, and how little Scott actually cared for you. Your bond had to be broken."

Break our bonds… We aren't atoms and this isn't science. This is our fucking friendship. And you ruined it to save my life? I don't even know if that's worth it! Stiles thought viciously.

"I still don't understand…" Stiles muttered out after a pause. His tongue swished anxiously around his mouth.

"What don't you get?" Derek tried to ask nicely, but he could feel his patience slipping away as the clock blinked a dull morning time.

"Why are you doing this?" Stiles asked, turning to stop staring at his hands and faced Derek directly.

"Do I seriously have to explain all of that again?" Derek didn't even try to hide his annoyance.

Stiles shook his head and made contact with the light blue eyes. "No, why are YOU doing this."

Derek swallowed and blinked away the eye contact with Stiles, turning to look outside the dingy window that lacked any glass.

His wolf nudged at his rib cage. There it was. The urge to claim again. How easy it would be to push the boy down, hold him down like he did in the nightmare. A small bite, he would survive it without a doubt. Derek mentally shook his head, he already asked. He tried and tried to push the thought out of his mind. Why am I doing this? He repeated Stiles question.

He needed Stiles. It was as simple as that. The boy was a constant thing in is life, and after Scott's flakiness, his family's deaths, there was nothing to anchor Derek. Except Stiles. Except the endless sarcasm, the stupid grins and the pathetic one lined jokes.

It was funny how much Stiles reminded Derek of his sister Laura. Both were quick on their feet and had a mouth with humor too loaded for their own good. He was just like her. He was family.

I could just say this was a return favor, for him constantly saving my life. But it's more than that. I want him to be safe- no; I need for him to be safe.

"It's my job." Derek looked back up, meeting Stiles eyes.

And somehow Stiles understood. It was his job as an alpha. His job as the protector of the pack that Stiles had wormed his human self into. Even though he wasn't a werewolf, it was still the alphas job to keep him safe.

Stiles ran his hand through his shaved hair, ruffling the fingers through the thin strands in frustration. "You need to find a new job." He muttered out under his breath.

Derek could feel his frustration at the teen building. "Do you at least get what's going on?" He gritted out between clenched teeth.

"Well enough." Stiles looked up. "How do I get rid of it?"

"Get rid of it?" Derek asked, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

"The scent. I was serious about the deodorant comment. I will bathe in the stuff it restores my friendship with Scott."

"You seriously want that friendship back?" Derek couldn't hide his shock. Why would Stiles go back? Even if the scent problem hadn't occurred, Scott still wasn't a true friend to Stiles.

Stiles paused and nodded. "He's still my best friend. I know he's a prick. And it I get that he just never actually thinks about anything, especially me. I get that, now more than ever. But he's still my friend. And if my smell is causing him as much as pain you make it sound like, then I need to help. So tell me, how do I fix it?"

Derek had seriously hopped it wouldn't come to this. There was a reason packs did not have human betas. His family contained a few humans, but they had the werewolf gene scent, it was just simply dormant. They never really smelled human, always like werewolves.

But Stiles was different. He was human, down the very core. And the werewolf scent only floated off of his skin, nevertheless burning with the scent of putrid mixing.

"You can't." Derek said and watched as Stiles' face fell dramatically. "No, that's not true. You can, but you won't like the options."

Stiles perked up, raw seriousness flooding his eyes. "Tell me. Derek. Tell me."

"You can either accept the bite," Derek answered. "Or leave."

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Authors note: 2 more chapters after this and an epilogue! I've even got them sort of drafted out. This isn't quite how I expected this story to turn out; I was honestly hoping the season 2 plot would have given me more to work with. I loved my first 8 chapters, this one being my least favorite so far. The writing wasn't great; I just tried to get it finished. Hope you all didn't find it too horrible as Derek was slightly OOC

Anyways, I have a new teen wolf story out! Stiles/Peter. Check it out please!

Review, review, review!