Scott's reaction to the news was both more level headed and more pragmatic than Stiles'. But then, Stiles had hardly laid a high benchmark.

He demanded Derek explain a dozen times. Then he demanded to know more. How long Derek had known, why he didn't explain to them all the moment he realised, whether there was anyone else who might know what the creature was, whether he knew how they might find it.

Stiles had fallen into a miserable silence. He was aware of every person in Derek's loft (because apparently when you asked Derek to go home, he took you to his home) staring at him with open confusion and concern. Silence was not something Stiles liked, nor was it a something he found easy to handle, but inside his head his thoughts were having a riot.

Lydia was trying to be practical. She too was asking questions, and hers were more probing than the ones Scott was focusing on. She wanted descriptions from everyone, how not-Allison had seemed, what the creature at Derek's house had looked like and smelt like and sounded like and what it had done. Then she demanded what Peter knew.

Peter wasn't actually there, so she got a blank look from the gathered group.

"Seriously, we need to talk to him!" she said.

No one answered her.

She gave them all a slightly annoyed look. "Look, I know he doesn't just help out of the evilness of his heart, I know he only does things if he knows how it will benefit him, but this is about keeping Stiles safe! We have to try."

"What if it isn't?" said Stiles.

They all turned to him again, faces painted with frowns of concern and pity. Stiles blocked that all out.

"What if it isn't about me?" he clarified, "Derek saw an eight year old boy in some memory. We don't know it was me, we don't even know if it's a real memory…"

The eyes dotted to Derek, who was being very monosyllabic in his answers to questions now. He kept his own eyes on Stiles, maybe wondering where he was going with this, how far Stiles was prepared to insult Derek.

Stiles was trying to make the same point he'd been making since Derek first told him, "I mean, Derek was only a kid himself, right? And I know the general consensus is that puberty passed me by, but I seriously doubt I look the same as I did when I was eight. Right? And if Derek's mom could take memories, who's to say something else can't make them. Fake ones, right? I mean, Peter put himself into Lydia's mind! Maybe this is all him, messing with us?"

They looked at each other, the few that were left. Scott, Kira, Isaac, and Lydia. They were uncomfortable at the change in the tension Stiles had just created. Derek may not be the alpha anymore, but everyone was still uncomfortable outright calling him wrong.

"It was you, Stiles," said Derek, quietly.

Stiles kept challenging him, "How can you be sure? Did I say, 'Hey there, grumpy eyebrows, my name's Stiles Stilinski, where are your impossible creatures?' Did you I show you any ID?"

"I just know," said Derek.

"But, dude, there are three guys in this room who were all kinda weird, skinny kids. There must be hundreds, if not…"

"I know it was you, Stiles," snapped Derek.

"How?" Stiles demanded.

"You said your name, but I couldn't remember it," Derek grumbled, "I think Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey wouldn't have given me that much trouble."

"But I never tell anyone my name!" Stiles snapped.

"Er, Stiles?" said Scott, "when your mum was alive, you always told people your real name. You only decided you wanted us to call you Stiles when we were in third grade. Before then I used to call you…"

"Yes, right!" snapped Stiles, "No need to out me as the guy with the weird name!"

Scott raised his hands, "OK, dude, I'm just saying, you might have told Derek your real name back then."

Stiles glared at him, "OK, but that still doesn't mean it was me! There are loads of guys with weird names!"

Derek grumbled a low growl, "I know it was you, Stiles."

"How?" Stiles demanded again, frustrated.

Derek's eyes were like fire, "Because you were so annoying!" he said. But there was a quiver in his voice, and both Scott and Isaac shifted uncomfortably.

"That was a lie," said Stiles, "you're hiding something!"

"How do you…?" Derek started.

"Scott and Isaac spotted it. Didn't you?" Stiles demanded, turning to the younger werewolves, "Didn't you?"

"Er…" said Scott, as Isaac shrugged.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," said Lydia. "Even if it isn't Stiles, we've still got to investigate. Some teenager might be about to get kidnapped."

"Right," said Kira, "we need to check out the bowling place, see if there are any clues…"

"I'll sniff it out, again," said Scott, "and maybe Lydia and Kira could check out this girl? Chloe, right?"

"It's not Chloe!" Stiles groaned.

"You didn't hear, her, Stiles!" Derek growled. "She was claiming you!"

Stiles couldn't help but scoff, "Seriously? Chloe claimed me? She wouldn't have the confidence to claim anything! She's like a nervous little puppy!"

"It was an act, Stiles!"

"Right," Scott interrupted, "I'm thinking maybe Derek should come with me, check out the scene again, and Stiles can go with…"

"No," said Derek firmly.

"No, what?" Stiles snapped at him.

"No, you're not going anywhere," said Derek, simply, face tinting a shade of pink which Stiles assumed was a sign of some sort of hitherto unforeseen level of Derek anger.

"Are you kidding me?" Stiles grumbled.

"Stiles is in danger," said Derek, turning to Scott now, "he's being targeted by a supernatural being, and I believe that being is Chloe. I don't think Stiles should be going anywhere near her right now, not to visit her and not to her workplace. Until we know more, Stiles needs to be as far away from her as possible."

"Oh my god!" Stiles cried at him, like he could make the phrase be somehow accusatory.

Derek ignored him, and kept on with his instructions to Scott, "We need someone who can fight to stay with him, too. You would be too easily distracted by him, Isaac doesn't have the experience, which leaves me."

"Or Kira," said Stiles.

"…who's only just learning about her own abilities," Derek finished for him. "I'll stay and watch Stiles. Isaac, you and Lydia investigate the scene, then check out the Argent bestiary, see what you can find. Scott and Kira check out the girl, and go to Deaton, ask him what he knows. Then in the morning, if nothing has come after him, we'll regroup and make a new plan."

Stiles saw the flaw in this plan, "So, what do we do, sit about twiddling our thumbs while our friends visit people you claim to be dangerous?"

"We research," said Derek. "Find out what has the ability to change its face. And we talk to Peter."

"Eugh," said Stiles. "I get all the fun jobs."

Derek raised his eyebrows, "And you have to call your dad, explain why you're not at home. And why I had to kidnap you from a public place in broad daylight."

"I think you secretly hate me," said Stiles, "Actually, maybe not so secretly."

"Ok," said Scott, "so we're going. Leaving you two to this weird… whatever it is you got going on."

Stiles realised Scott might have been losing his grip on reality. The only thing 'going on' between Stiles and Derek was an argument, not an excuse for them all to leave Stiles alone with a werewolf who had already kidnapped him once that day.

With a handful of awkward 'bye's, the rest of them filed out. Stiles watched them go, wondering if begging would change their minds. It probably wouldn't.

"So," he said, "just the two of us. Again."

Derek sat down and crossed his arms.

"You know," said Stiles, "This could have been easily avoided. We could both be off investigating. Separately."

Derek took out his phone and began poking at the screen.

"Yep, I could be out with Scott, checking out leads, providing the brain power he needs. You could be out looking moody on roofs and shit. But nope, here we are, stuck together, not quite talking to each other."

Derek just continued texting. Which, Stiles knew, was simply an obvious invitation to keep complaining.

"Derek! You don't even like me!" Stiles moaned, "Why are you doing this to us? In fact, I think 'not like' is too mild a term for you feel about me. I think it's verging on hate."

"No," said Derek.

"So why are you making... wait, what?"

"No," Derek repeated.

"No, what?" said Stiles.

"No, I don't hate you," said Derek, that tinge of pink appearing on his face again. Though he didn't seem angry.

"Well, there are bruises on my back that suggest otherwise..." said Stiles.

Derek kept looking at his phone, even though it was obvious that he'd finished texting, "I ... find it difficult..." he said, "talking to people. Trusting people."

"Yeah, no shit," said Stiles.

Derek shifted, "It took me a while to know you and Scott weren't out to get me."

"Well," said Stiles, "we really aren't organised enough to 'get' someone. We don't really have long term objectives and stuff."

Derek gave him a look at that.

Stiles gave him a small smile back. "I'm sorry," he said, "for what I said in the car. I don't really think that stuff. I was just panicked. You know?"

Derek shrugged, "A lot of it was true."

"Well, yeah, Peter's a creep and I seriously don't know why you let him into your building let alone your pack, but... it was not OK to talk about your Mom. I know that. I'd have punched anyone who said anything about mine."

Derek nodded. "I know she wanted to do what was best for everyone," he said. "But I know why you're angry."

"I'm not," said Stiles, and it was kind if true, "not really. I mean, can you imagine what my dad would have said? He'd lost Mom, and then you lot show up and put a time bomb on my head?"

Derek seemed to shift closer, finally letting his eyes meet Stiles' "I'm not going to let it take you," he said, confidently.

Stiles' heart skipped. He had to force himself to remember that Derek meant that as his pack, not because he felt for Stiles anything he didn't feel for Scott and the rest. "Thanks," he said.

Derek looked at him hard. He had stupidly beautiful eyes.

Stiles clutched his hands together and bit his lip, wondering when he'd began to trust Derek to look after him. How long had it taken for him to stop expecting a gruesome death at the werewolf's hands, and start expecting him to put himself between Stiles and danger?

"I still think you're wrong," said Stiles. "I think that you just met the awesomeness that is me about a year ago, as we all knew, but felt so much pure adoration that you figured you must have always known me. Put my face on some random kid."

Derek raised an eyebrow, but a smirk played around his lips, so Stiles continued.

"But you gotta face it Derek, every once in a while you will just meet someone so incredibly perfect you will just want to worship the very ground they walk on. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Go with the flow."

"Shut up, Stiles," said Derek.

"It's not my fault you can't handle my awesomeness," Stiles replied.

"Shut up!"

"Make me!"

"Stiles..."

"The genius, the wit and the beauty that makes up Stiles Stilinski is an acquired taste, but few who have become accustomed can, thereafter, resist."

"So you're talking about yourself in the third person now?" Derek sneered.

Stiles grinned at him, "Admittedly, the church of the Stiles was slow to gain a flock at first, but after just nearly eighteen years, the congregation had more than doubled, to a dizzying figure of dedicated followers who could not love their idol more."

"We've got to call your dad," said Derek, but his smirk was definitely morphing into a smile now.

"First, there was Scott, a plucky young boy, searching for a leader of wit and effortless cool, to guide him through the darkness of his high school years."

"Where's your phone?" Derek asked.

Stiles got off the couch, took a step away from Derek and put his hand over his pocket to protect said phone. "Later came Lydia, though it took her a number of years to realise how much she adored the Stiles. In fact, she still takes some convincing."

"Stiles..."

"Then there was Derek Hale. He did not know he was searching for a leader before he found the Stiles. In fact he thought..."

"Give me your phone Stiles!"

"He thought he was made to be leader himself. But the Stiles showed him the true meaning of leader...ship."

Derek lunged at Stiles, who darted away. Derek caught him, of course, (darn werewolfy cheating agility,) but Stiles was already laughing. Even as Derek pinned him against the wall with hands on his shoulders.

Derek appreciated the joke though. He was doing his pretending to be angry with Stiles thing, but Stiles could tell.

"The Stiles?" Derek smirked, "Seriously? Third person and the definite article?"

Stiles smirked back, "Well, when someone's this awesome, they need all the grammar..."

"All the grammar?" Derek repeated.

"Absolutely all the grammar," Stiles confirmed. "As a mark of respect."

"Respect?" Derek repeated, bemused, "give me your phone."

Stiles smirked, "Not until you admit how awesome I am."

"Really?" said Derek, eyebrows at their highest, but twitches about his face giving away his humour, "you think you're in a position to negotiate?"

"I know to a casual observer, this totally looks like you've got the upper hand, but the casual observer is not aware of my super-secret ninja skills."

"Super-secret ninja skills," said Derek, "those super-secret ninja skills that you've never shown anyone. Ever?"

"Or they're just so super cool and secret, they're too fast to see," said Stiles.

Derek observed him. "Ok," he said, "get free."

"What?" Stiles laughed.

"I wanna see these super-secret ninja skills in action," said Derek, "Maybe I could learn something."

Stiles had a couple of problems with that. Firstly, he had absolutely no way of getting free from Derek's grasp. For a second he had no desire to. But he went with it.

"Oh my god!" he cried, looking over Derek's shoulder.

Derek raised his eyebrow again.

"Seriously Derek, there's a zombie approaching!"

Derek shook his head.

"Eugh, fine," said Stiles. He tried to tickle Derek. It didn't work. Because solid walls of muscle may or may not be ticklish, but Derek was faster and had longer arms. He grabbed both of Stiles wrists and pushed them above his head.

Stiles tried to hold in the gasp.

"That all you got?" said Derek, "I could hold you with one hand."

He demonstrated by taking both of Stiles' hands in one of his. Stiles wondered if Derek knew how quickly this had gone from teasing to a beautiful man holding him helpless against a wall and giving him a significant pant-related problem.

"Ung," said Stiles. Which wasn't that impressive.

"So, I was after your phone," said Derek, smirking. He waved his free hand in front of Stiles, then slowly crept it towards Stiles' pocket, while Stiles squirmed And tried to remember about breathing and how it was necessary even her pinned to walls by gorgeous older men.