Boyd was sitting there silently when Stiles woke up, holding out a bottle of aspirin. There was a glass of water sitting on his nightstand.

"Thanks", Stiles managed, the growing headache preventing him from being more verbal.

"What happened?" Boyd asked, as Stiles opened the bottle and shook out some tablets, swallowing them dry.

"I don't remember much", he lied. "I think there was a cheeseburger. I know there was tequila."

"Cora called me, said that you showed up drunk at their hotel."

"Ah, so there was definitely tequila", Stiles confirmed, getting out of the bed. "Good to know."

"What happened to start it?"

"Not sure."

"Isaac left for practice about twenty minutes ago. He made some coffee before he went."

"Oh good", Stiles answered, heading into the kitchen. "Did anyone see you two?"

"Your Dad must have fallen asleep at the station", Boyd told him. "We haven't seen him."

Stiles nodded. He made a mental note to check on his father before grabbing a mug from the cabinet and pouring coffee into it. "You want some?"

"No, I'm okay. You still didn't say what happened last night."

"That's probably because I don't remember much." Stiles grabbed a teaspoon and unscrewed the sugar container, putting a couple of spoonfuls in his mug.

"There's something that Derek told us- me and Erica- before we left. I must have spent months thinking about it, wishing that we had made a different call, asking myself if he would come looking for us."

Stiles took a sip from his mug, trying not to think of the priest, wondering if he was going to be reported for the things he said. It was stupid, the whole thing was stupid. They weren't religious enough as a family to take his words seriously, there was no reason to start now.

He had been too grateful in thinking that room was a safe place, he had taken it too far. He had been too comfortable- it was a mistake he wouldn't make again.

"He told us that we were running. That once you start running, you don't stop, and that we would always be running", Boyd told him. "I promised myself that if by some miracle, Derek pulled us out of there, I would stick around for good."

"You're doing okay, Boyd", Stiles answered. "You're safe, you're alive. That's what matters."

"I'm worried about you", he told Stiles. "You were mumbling in your sleep. We couldn't understand most of it because it was in Latin. You scared the hell out of Isaac, by the way. He thought you were spellcasting- things in your room started floating around, I'm not sure if you realize that it happens."

He didn't want anyone to have seen that. "I'm aware."

"There was one part that we could understand you say. You said 'I can't fail them.'"

Stiles got up from his chair, heading over to the fridge and opening it, looking around. There wasn't much in there, he needed to do grocery shopping. He rested his forehead on the front of the inside, feeling the coolness instantly. He didn't want people watching him while he slept. He didn't want Isaac and Boyd hearing things he said.

It was a sign of weakness, something that leaders weren't supposed to show. Leaders were supposed to be fearless, unstoppable. If they had consciences, they weren't supposed to be shown. Emotions were meant to be filtered out and dealt with later- that was what Stiles had been trying to do. But he dropped the ball in that church, and he was dropping it now.

He grabbed some milk and shut the fridge door. "Thanks for letting me know", he informed Boyd. "I'm probably going to finish this", he said, pointing to the cup of coffee. "And then have a shower, maybe do some homework. I'm okay, you don't have to worry about me. You can go."

Boyd nodded, and was silent for a second. Why was he still there? Stiles poured some milk into the mug and put it back in the fridge, stirring, and putting the spoon in the sink.

"You're running", Boyd said suddenly.

Stiles let out a chuckle. "I haven't gone anywhere", he answered, bringing the mug to his lips.

"Maybe not physically, but emotionally. You're upset about what we saw."

"It's a little creepy, but I'm fine."

"You're sweating", Boyd pointed out. "Your pulse is higher than normal."

"I'm hungover", Stiles told him, even though the medication was starting to kick in.

"Which is strange, since you're rarely drunk to begin with."

"Can you at least tell me what we're doing out here?" Scott asked behind him in a frustrated tone.

"Yes", Stiles answered. "When your best friend gets dumped"

"-I didn't get dumped", Scott interrupted. "We're taking a break."

"Alright, well when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break?" Stiles held up the bottle. "You get your best friend drunk."

"I get drunk sometimes", Stiles answered stiffly.

Boyd studied him as he sipped on his coffee silently. "You know, sometimes if people ask me if I'm okay, I still get confused as to why they're asking? Because I was invisible for so long."

And then Stiles started feeling guilty, because even though he liked to think that he was nice to everyone at school, he had never gone out of his way to be friends with everyone. Scott had been his friend forever- Stiles was okay if it was just the two of them, that one best friend was all he truly needed. Maybe if he hadn't done that, Scott's death wouldn't still be a surprise when he woke up every morning. "I'm sorry."

"It's not about me, Stiles. It's about you. You have people who care about you who want to help and be involved, but you won't let us."

"Purity of the soul is the only thing that matters."

"Trust me", Stiles said quietly. "You don't want to be this involved."

He was sitting at a table in the library catching up on some homework a week later. Stiles figured that since he used the place as an excuse so often, he might as well actually be here from time to time to keep his face familiar to the librarians in case someone started asking questions. He was typing away on his laptop when he received a text message from Peter, telling him to go home.

Stiles asked if something had gone wrong, if anyone was in trouble. Peter replied, saying that if there was trouble, he wouldn't waste his time sending text messages. Stiles let out a sigh and packed up his things, getting in his Jeep and drove back to his house.

He went up the stairs and got to his bedroom when he saw them standing there.

"This is private property."

Peter looked incredibly smug, Stiles couldn't remember actually seeing Cora smiling widely. They both looked exhausted to him, but happy. Derek was standing in between them, his expression blank instead of grouchy.

"I just...I couldn't stop him", Scott said flustered. "He just went into that boiler room so fast, and I kept thinking that I should go in there with him, but I kept thinking about my Mom and how I couldn't leave her all alone, and I couldn't hear Derek screaming or growling or doing anything at all. They must have been slashing at him for hours, and all I could see when the sun came up was that he was exhausted."

Derek wasn't bruised, he wasn't cut up or injured in any way. He was wearing a beige shirt underneath his unzipped leather jacket, and it didn't look like there were any blood stains.

Derek was dead. Derek was dead. Scott told him that Derek was dead, he couldn't heal because Derek was dead. Isaac and Boyd were mourning the loss of their Alpha, and Derek was dead. If the police report was right and Scott's death was a suicide, Derek being dead was a factor of what pushed him. Stiles could feel his hands begin to shake. He needed to do something to keep them busy. He walked right past them to set his backpack down on his bed, pulling out his laptop and setting it on his desk, his back turned to the three of them.

He gripped the edge of his desk and took a deep breath before turning back to his bed and looking for the charger.

"Well, he's gotten rude since the last time we saw him", Peter said, crossing his arms.

"No kidding", Cora remarked. "He hugged me last time."

"I was grateful to see that you hadn't been eaten", Stiles pointed out, plugging the charger into the wall outlet and connecting it to the laptop. "But if you're hug-deprived, Cora, all you have to do is ask."

"No, I'm good", she told him.

"We had a policy on letting other people use the amulets to get in places", he told Peter. "I thought I made that clear."

"Stiles", Derek started, but Stiles ignored him.

"Seeing the house reject him was only funny the first time", Peter informed him.

Stiles let out a laugh. "You actually let it reject him the first time?"

"We've been away", Peter said. "I may have forgotten a few things."

"Getting forgetful in your old age, Peter?"

Derek had been looking at him and then Peter, and then back to Stiles again, his face a mixture of confusion and horror.

"So Stiles is still chatty", Stiles heard Derek say to Cora.

Cora let out a laugh. "Yeah, Stiles is still chatty."

"Don't do it again", Stiles told Peter.

"I figured you'd want evidence that he's alive. No better evidence than this."

"I appreciate that", Stiles said, ignoring Derek. "But it's a rule. We can't go around breaking them for everyone."

"He's the pack's Alpha", Peter told him.

Stiles wondered if that meant that Peter was going to take a step back in everything, if he was going to stand on the sidelines now that Derek was back, but that wasn't what Stiles wanted. He was only convinced that Peter was trustworthy recently- it would be wrong to go back a couple of steps.

"You're not going anywhere", he told Peter steadily. "That's not an excuse for you."

"Oh please", Peter scoffed. "I'm practically second in command around here. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry, what?" Derek sounded like he was having trouble processing the information.

It wasn't Stiles' fault that Derek wasn't here, that he didn't know what was going on.

Stiles nodded. "Don't tell Lydia. You should go home, take a shower, maybe take a nap."

"What, no reunion party?" Peter asked

"Didn't have one for Cora", Stiles pointed out. "No need to have one now."

"Well, that's nice of you, Stiles, thank you", Cora said.

"Whatever", Stiles shrugged. "Just keeping things fair and all. Get out of here."

"That's it?" Derek asked

Stiles didn't say anything, didn't even look Derek in the eye. "Cora, Peter, I'm sorry for not believing you before."

"Yeah, yeah", Peter said, walking towards the window. "We're going." He placed his hands on the windowsill and backflipped out the window, landing gracefully on his feet.

"He just had to be a showoff, didn't he?" Stiles asked

Cora shrugged. "We found him in a hotel in Seattle. Third from the bottom of our list. You two should talk."

Stiles watched as she jumped out the window too, curling her legs so she rolled on the ground in a somersault and jumping up from the ground into a run to catch up with Peter.

He backed away from the window, pulling out some textbooks and notebooks, setting them to the side.

He didn't want to talk. He wanted to be alone, he wanted to process all of this.

"You're angry with me", Derek said bluntly.

Angry wasn't even covering it.

Stiles was shaking his head, pulling out his list of assignments due and reading them.

"Cora told me Scott died", Derek tried again. "I'm sorry. I would have been here if I had known."

Would he have been? Would he really? It was nice of Derek to say, but he didn't get to bring up Scott like this, so casually. Stiles stopped unpacking his things for a couple of seconds, staring at the wall in front of him. "Unless you came back to tell me that all of this isn't real? That it's all some twisted reality crafted by some crazy Alpha werewolf magic and that Scott's really alive and you want to pull me out of this crapfest into the real world? I really don't want to talk to you right now, okay? You need to go."

"Stiles"

"Don't be such a sourwolf!" He said cheerfully to Derek.

"-Get out", he said lowly.

"Let me explain", Derek said, putting a hand on Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles looked at Derek's reaction, him looking down at his hand and then up at him again. "I'm taking my hand off", he told him.

Stiles looked at the hand. "I said get out." His eyes turned white and for a split second, he didn't hold in his anger. Derek was lifted up into the air and thrown out of the window. Stiles watched him get up outside to make sure that his neck didn't snap on the way down, before closing the window and sitting down at his desk, ignoring the smell of Derek's cologne in the air.

"Should I be worried that we had a visitor sleeping outside all weekend?" His father asked him. "That said visitor was wanted for murder?"

"He was exonerated", Stiles told him.

"That doesn't mean that he's not dangerous", The Sheriff pointed out in between bites. "Have I mentioned how much I appreciate that you made waffles?"

Stiles shrugged, putting dirty dishes in the sink. He needed to keep his hands busy this morning, needed to keep his mind off of things. "Felt in the mood."

"Is that Hale kid threatening you?"

It would be easy to lie in order to get him out of there. It'd be easy to tell Derek that he was trespassing. It'd be easier for Stiles to be able to deal with it all. But he didn't.

"No, he hasn't threatened me."

"What's he doing here, then?" The Sheriff asked.

Stiles looked out the window. "I'm not sure", he said honestly.

"He hasn't moved from that spot in days. If he's not threatening you and you don't think he's dangerous, then maybe you should find out. Or at least invite him in for some breakfast. He's probably hungry."

Derek didn't have an amulet yet. If his father tried to invite him in without one, questions would be asked when he was thrown in the opposite direction.

"I'll toss him a breakfast bar on my way out", he promised.

"Get the paper too, would you?"

"They have apps so you don't have to deal with a subscription and delivery", Stiles told him, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

"It's not the same", his dad waved him off. "Go on, get to school."

Stiles opened the pantry and grabbed a couple of breakfast bars before heading out the door. Derek snapped up from his sitting position on the grass and caught the bars that were tossed his way.

"Thanks", Derek said.

"From my Dad, not me", Stiles answered, grabbing the paper from the lawn and carrying it inside. He didn't look at Derek when he came back out again. He just got in his Jeep and pulled out of the driveway.

"You're really bad at keeping me in the loop", Lydia said, sitting down across from him at the table in the library.

Stiles pointed at the sign to his left.. No food, no drinks, no talking. He turned back to his textbook, highlighting a passage.

Lydia on the other hand, pulled a water bottle out of her purse, screwing open the cap and leaving it open before she pulled out a tupperware of salad, opening that too, but not touching it. "I'm a rule-breaker", she shrugged. "Why

didn't you tell me that Derek faked his death and that he's in town?"

"What?" He looked up from his textbook. It wasn't like Lydia and Peter were on close terms, and he doubted that Lydia and Cora had sleepovers or nightly phone calls. "Who told you?"

"Your face just now", she answered. "That and him standing out in the parking lot. How security doesn't kick him out is a miracle."

Looked like Derek followed him to school. Kali was following him around too. He wondered if this meant that Kali knew that Derek was alive. Stiles let out a frustrated sigh.

"So what happened?" Lydia prompted. "Where was he? Why'd he fake his death?"

Stiles shrugged.

"You didn't ask him?"

"Nope", Stiles answered, turning the page in his textbook.

"Okay", she said slowly. "What did Isaac and Boyd say when you told them he was alive?"

"He's been back a day, alright? I haven't had the chance to have that conversation with them. And I guess now that Derek's hanging around everywhere, the cat's out of the bag."

"They should have heard it from you."

Stiles let out a bitter laugh, tilting his head to the side. "Yeah, well, they shouldn't have to hear anything about this. Because Derek shouldn't have left to begin with."

Lydia grabbed a walnut from her salad and stuck it in her mouth. "Maybe you should tell him that."

There was a part of Stiles that wanted to see Derek coming back as a sign of hope. He wanted to think that it was really good timing, that a week ago, he was looking for a way to get rid of this constant burden on his shoulders, and now maybe there was someone that could help him.

But he couldn't. He shook the idea out of his head. He needed to see this for what it was. Peter and Cora started a project, like a powerpoint presentation or an essay. They believed that Derek was alive, and Stiles told them to do whatever they wanted to ease their minds. Stiles didn't send them on a mission to look for Derek because they needed him. It was an assignment that they created and executed themselves. Stiles had his own assignment, to find the Darach and kill it. Nothing had changed other than the number of people in their group. That was it.

"There's no point", Stiles told her. "We need to focus on the Darach, on Deucalion. We don't have time to focus on Derek."

"You're at a standstill", Lydia said flatly. "We don't have a way to track it down, a way to figure out who it is. Girl, guy, or thing, we've got nothing."

"Not necessarily."

She raised an eyebrow.

"The last time I...saw Gerard", he worded carefully. "He told me about a spell that he had in his house that could help us track down what we're looking for. And even though I know the bad guys lie to save themselves, I think it's worth a look around."

"Do you think there's such a thing as an anti-magical barrier?" Lydia asked. "If there's one in that house and there's some sort of trap, you won't be able to pull yourself out of it."

"I think it'd fine", he answered. "They're anti-werewolf in that house, not really anti-magic. I think the worst thing I'll find is a barrier of mountain ash and wolfsbane in vases at the dinner table."

"You don't know that", Lydia told him. "They could be against anything supernatural."

"Gerard wanted the bite to fight his cancer for him. I think the circumstances changed."

"Okay", she nodded. "Say you find it and you get out of there safe and sound. Are you going to cast it? You don't know what side effects it'll have."

"I'll make sure I read the fine print", Stiles answered. "We've got to give it a shot."

"I'll come with you after school if you want."

"No", he replied immediately. "No, I'm good."

"Oh my God", she rolled her eyes. "Are you doing that overprotective Papa Bear routine again? If it's safe for you to be in there, it'll be safe for me to be there too."

"Go home and read about String Theory or something."

She shrugged, closing the salad and putting it away. "I got bored with String Theory, but suit yourself." She got up and left the open water bottle behind.

"Of course you did", he muttered as she walked away. Five minutes later the librarian walked over to his table. "There's no drinks in here."

Stiles looked at the bottle of water and scowled.

Derek was there next to his car after school. He stepped out of the way when Stiles reached in with his key to unlock it.

"Unbelievable. No word for five months, and now I can't get rid of you."

He tossed his backpack in the trunk before opening the driver's side door and getting in. "You might as well get in the car and stop being creepy about it."

He stood up straight, staring directly in front of him as Derek walked around car and got in the passenger seat. For the first time in a while, Stiles didn't feel like hitting the person sitting shotgun.

"You're different", Derek told him.

"That happens", Stiles answered roughly, shifting gears and pulling out of the space, heading towards Gerard's old house. Lydia remembered going there a couple of times with Allison a year ago to get supplies- she gave Stiles directions.

"You're going to talk to me?" Derek asked "Let me explain myself?"

"Sure", he forced out the word. "Let's talk. Go ahead, I'm listening."

"I thought it was the right thing to do", Derek said. "I thought it would keep everyone safe."

"That's it?" Stiles let out a laugh. "Seriously, that's all you've got?"

"Isaac and Boyd are alive, aren't they?"

Stiles shifted to a higher gear. "You have nothing to do with why Isaac and Boyd are still alive."

"Peter said you've taken it upon yourself to do a couple of...unsavory things recently."

He knew that Derek was watching him, studying him, trying to understand something. At least it looked that way.

"Is that the word he used? Unsavory? Old terms for the old man."

"He's not really second in command, is he?" Derek asked

"Why?"

"Stiles, you know you can't trust him. Not after what he's done. He will twist and manipulate you."

"Funny", Stiles tossed back. "I could say the same thing about you."

He felt his stomach twist when he turned his head to look at Derek. In that split second, he could see the defeat in his face, the guilt, but he wasn't going to take back the words.

Peter had changed. He became more reliable, he was trying to be a team player, he was trying to move past what he had done. Through it all, Peter kept the humor alive in himself, despite the tragedy. It was something that Stiles had trouble with.

"You just don't know Peter the way I do."

"No", Derek answered solemnly. "I guess not."

They drove in silence for the rest of the way until they pulled into the driveway.

"What are we doing here?" Derek asked

Stiles shut off the Jeep, and opened the door. "Running an errand", he answered, getting out of the car.

"You're not going in there", Derek told him, closing the door after he got out.

"You're giving me orders now?" Stiles asked

He felt Derek pull him back, turning to face him. "What happened to you? How can I fix this?"

Stiles blinked. "You want to know what happened? You want to fix me? Maybe you should have done something five months ago. Did you ever think of that? What were you doing in Seattle, huh? Brooding around in some coffeeshop? Did you ever think of what you were leaving behind?"

"I don't know, I just"

"-Of course not", Stiles interrupted. "Of course you didn't think of the consequences. You want to know what happened to me? I thought that you and Scott were dead. But guess what? Scott's dead, Scott's still dead, but you're alive. He was killed by the Darach, and I bet that if he had the chance that you did? If he had the choice to risk his life to stick around and live with us, he would do it in an instant instead of leaving and abandoning the people who cared about him."

Derek was dead silent, his jaw clenched. Stiles continued anyway. "You know, I thought about you? Cora and Peter told me again and again, 'Derek's still alive, we're going to find him and bring him back.' And you know what I did? I called them crazy. I thought it was the most ridiculous idea I had ever heard, because I thought I knew you. The facts were right in front of me, nobody took over as pack Alpha, nobody started sporting flashy red eyes, there was no body, but I ignored the logic and the facts because I thought I knew you. Your sister was killed and you had every reason to run, especially with the police after you, but you stuck around. You avenged her death, and you could have left this all behind, but you stayed and you built a pack?"

Stiles took a breath, hoping for the emotion filter to kick in, but it didn't. "And then the pack essentially left you, they ran away, and you could have left then too, but you stuck around to look for them even though you had a feeling that they didn't want you. But you leave now? After you find a sister you thought was dead and after you rescued someone you spent a summer looking for? And the only explanation you can give me is that you thought it was the right thing to do? You abandoned us. You left us behind to deal with the mess. What did you think was going to happen, Derek? That the Alpha pack was just going to back off because they thought you were dead?"

"I-" Derek's mouth was open, but words weren't coming out.

"Did you think that you could leave us all alone and we would be okay with it? You think that an Alpha could leave a pack of werewolves, and that the one human that was around with no abilities and no way to defend himself at the time would live? What did you think was going to happen when you came back, Derek? That we'd hug it out and everything would be okay? You abandoned us, you abandoned me. You left me to die."

Stiles turned away from Derek and walked towards the house, using his sleeve to mop up the tears that had fallen down his face. His hand was on the doorknob when Derek caught up to him.

"I'm sorry."

Stiles had heard the words so many times over the past five months, and it was one of the first times it was truly genuine. But he couldn't forgive Derek, not in an instant. It didn't work like that.

The palms of his hands were suddenly holding fire, and when Derek saw them, he stepped back, like the memories were going through his mind. Stiles felt like a jerk, but the magic was involuntary. They were tied to his emotions.

"Derek, you need to wait in the car", he said lowly.

"It's not safe in there."

"I'm not safe for you right now. You need to wait in the car."

Stiles opened the door, leaving marks of melting metal behind. He tried to avoid looking at Derek as he closed it.