Okay, yet again I would like everyone reading this to take a step back. Are you in a bad mood? Are you recovering/ suffering from depression, self-harm or any eating disorder? Will reading this hurt your recovery? If this story is just going to make you feel worse then don't read it. Go and find a story which will help you. No story is worth feeling bad about yourself over. Sure, I don't know you and statistically we'll never meet. However you deserve happiness. So basically please do not read this if you can't cope with it.

When Kira let herself into her house the next day she crept upstairs, trying to not alert her parents to her presence. She sat down on her bed and rifled through her bag until she found the set text for English. She turned to throw her bag down and nearly screamed. There, sitting cross legged on the floor was Isaac.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm reading" he held up a book which she didn't recognise.

"I meant what are you doing in my bedroom?"

"Oh, that! Yeah, I got bored. Also I believe that you promised me a story."

"Not now!"

"If not now then when?"

"When this whole thing has settled down a bit!" he cocked his head to one side

"That's going to be too late though."

"What do you mean?"

"Whatever's going on has to do with Stiles' current issue. So if I waited then you'd say the time had passed and ignore me."

"Well maybe it's a good thing I wouldn't tell you then"

"I have an idea, a story for a story"

"What do you mean?" Rather than responding he allowed his eyes to glow blue

"I don't want to tell this story to make the rounds just yet. First I'd need to tell Scott. He's still technically my Alpha. So, I tell you my story and you tell me yours?" Kira looked down, into her hands. She should tell someone, but couldn't she just wait until tomorrow? Or, better yet, never?

"No, I'm sorry Isaac but not yet."

"Then let me guess," Kira looked up, breath catching in her throat. She couldn't let everyone know again, last time it had been so terrible. Everyone stared silently, at mealtimes they all held in their breath while she struggled to eat more.

"You had an eating disorder, it got worse and you got better at hiding it. By the time it was discovered it took a lot of work to get better. You were put into a hospital and you hated every second of it. Now you're slipping again looking at Stiles. You saw the warning signs but brushed them off. I bet you told Scott and he told you it was just how Stiles behaved."

"Why do you say that?"

"There are a lot of things I can say about Scott, paying attention isn't one of them. So, how close was I?" Kira nodded, her throat constricting. She wanted to keep quiet, keep it bottled up but then again, that was how she'd gotten into the mess.

"Like you said, um about hiding. But my parents didn't find out, I told them" she took a few breaths, refusing to look at him "My mum went and trained herself to look after me, my dad went down to a part time teacher. I wasn't put into a hospital, because that was the only condition I gave before I told them. It took me about a year before I was better. When I began to get more sociable after it was really hard. Everyone treated me as if I was going to break at any second. Soon after we moved to Beacon Hills because I couldn't stand it there any longer."

Isaac nodded and waited, the silence thickening in the room until she continued

"About Stiles, yeah I had guessed that something was up but I thought it was nothing. Scott knew him well so he'd have noticed anything strange right?"

"Do you know what question is very important now?" Kira shook her head, confused. She had hoped for a reaction, but then again Isaac had already guessed it all. "If Stiles didn't change then how long has he been like this?" He stood up and was in the doorway before Kira spoke

"What about you?" He turned slowly, fingers beating out a rhythm on the doorframe.

"I killed an innocent person" he sighed and turned to face Kira "To forget" he paused "her, I left. I couldn't stand being here. After all this time it's not much better. I lived however I wanted to. One week I'd live out in the woods, half transformed, the next week I'd get a room at a hotel and work. I had nothing to pin me down except Scott.

If I found another pack I'd steer clear. But one time I got into a tussle with a pair of hunters. They shot me with an arrow through the chest. It takes a while to recover from that even for us. All the while I was being chased. I found a pack and explained what was going on. They looked after me until I was healed and then I stayed for a bit. The hunters moved on and I thought about settling in the pack and never coming home. Then one day I was out in the woods and I heard a small girl crying. She was covered in bruises and scars made from a belt." Isaac opened his mouth as if to speak but merely ran his tongue over his teeth as he searched for words.

"I figured, I had the power to stop whoever had hurt her. I asked her and she said it was her uncle. He was looking after her and had snapped. She'd been in the woods for days. He was at her house, waiting for her. So naturally I took off."

"You killed him?" he nodded and cleared his throat before continuing

"But, it wasn't him. The hunters had set it up. They attacked me and I only just got away. When I got back to the den the Alpha fought me, she didn't want hunters coming to her pack. So I ran and they chased me. I was worse off than the first time I'd met the hunters, the Alpha had tried to kill me. I smelt someone familiar and found Argent. He had heard a werewolf was in the area and was trying to make sure it didn't kill again. He looked after me and told me who I had killed. He told the other hunters I was dead and talked to the pack. I left after a few days, I couldn't stand being around him after her. I got the text and came straight here"

"And the cuts you had were from the Alpha?" Isaac nodded before straightening and moving to leave

"Who was he? The man you killed"

"Would it help if I told you? Would it bring him back to life? Leave the dead where they are"

"Scott will ask" Isaac nodded, resigned

"It was the girl's father. The uncle was one of the hunters. He'd used her as live bait for me. A werewolf who's killed someone is fair play."

"Will you tell Scott?"

"Depends, will you?" with that Isaac left the room, as silently as he'd come in.

The next night Stiles found himself lying awake, long after Scott had fallen asleep. He felt too full. Stiles shakily felt around for his wheelchair and grasped it, pulling himself into it in a well-practised motion. He could feel his hands shaking ever so slightly. He wanted to go to the restroom but he couldn't. Scott would smell it on him and that wouldn't end up well. No matter how bad it got Stiles refused to be put back in Eiken House. He would rather be completely useless than that.

Stiles took a few deep calming breath. He ran his hands down his face and reached into his desk which had finally been moved down. At the bottom of the drawer sat a half dozen boxes of matches. He withdrew the seventh, identical except for its contents. As soon as he lifted it he knew something was wrong. Opening it all the way he saw that its metal contents were gone. He shoved it onto the floor and grabbed the others, rifling through them there was nothing but matches in them. He took a breath to calm himself, it probably wouldn't have worked anyway, Scott would have noticed.

But in that moment it didn't matter, the next day didn't matter. His father, Scott, Lydia everything ceased to matter. All he needed was the thin pieces of metal. He opened another drawer and took it out. Flipping it upside down he scattered pens and pencils over the floor. At the very bottom was a tiny piece of paper, he pulled it and the bottom of the drawer came away. Inside was nothing. The pills, the razors, the plasters, all of it was gone. He took a deep breath again, ignoring his heart speeding up. He didn't need it surely? He just wanted it. But he didn't have to be a werewolf to hear the lie.

He wheeled into the kitchen and grabbed one of the knives. He placed it across his forearm. Why should he care it was visible? He needed the release. That was all he needed. In that moment nothing mattered. Just as he began to press down he felt a hand land on his own, covering the handle of the knife. He glanced up, expecting Scot. The man was taller, his hair was shorter and in lieu of the glaring red eyes there was piercing blue eyes. Stiles jerked back as he recognised Derek. Derek's face was murderous. He took the knife and threw it, it sunk into the wall a few inches above the floor and hung there, immobile. Stiles took a deep breath as Derek turned his gaze to him. All the threats floated to the top of Stiles' mind and wouldn't budge.

"Where's Scott?" Stiles frowned for a moment, why would Derek want Scott? Then it hit him. All Derek cared about was showing off to Scott. Saving a friend would be perfect.

"Upstairs" Stiles muttered, already turning back to his room.

"You're staying here"

"What's the point?" Derek squinted at the teenager for a second before coming to a conclusion. He grabbed Stiles around the waist and hoisted him over his shoulders. Stiles hit Derek's back to no avail. He was set down gently on one of the chairs in the living room. He then turned and walked out of the room. Stiles opened his mouth to complain but then shut it, Derek was in control freak mode.

After a few minutes Derek walked back in with two cups. He placed one on the table in the middle and handed the other cup to Stiles.

"Drink" Stiles took a sip of the hot milk without thinking.

"Have you told Scott?"

"No and I'm not going to" Stiles glanced up, surprised

"Why not?" Derek sat back before answering, he looked as if he chose every word carefully.

"Because he doesn't need to know just yet."

"Okay, how come you got here so fast then?"

"I was on lookout tonight"

"Lookout?"

"If I'm honest, it's just me. Everyone else needed sleep so now I come up here"

"I thought you were still recovering" Derek shrugged, taking another long drink

"The last of the wolfs bane left last night so I'm better now"

"So why are you here?"

"I just told you Stiles"

"No, I mean why are you like, here?"

"I don't follow" He set the empty cup down on the tale again and crossed his eyes, fixing them on Stiles.

"If you wanted Scott to know then you'd have woken him up" Derek frowned in confusion "If you wanted anyone to know then they would have been here. Scott would never have allowed you to stay on watch while you were healing. What could be more important than you healing after Paris?" Derek sat back and closed his eyes as he understood.

"I'm here for you Stiles. That's what friends do, they help each other"

"But, we're not even friends. Every time we meet you threaten to kill me"

"Stiles, at this moment there is nothing more important than protecting you. No one else seems to notice that. I could list everything that they've failed to do or done wrong. For Christ's sake, they left you alone to save me"

"You needed help" Stiles muttered, too quiet to be heard, well unless someone was a hybrid animal mix.

"So did you." Stiles looked up from his cup to meet Derek's brown eyes. "One thing you seem to not realise Stiles is that we care for you. We want you to be happy. I'm not here to show off to Scott or anyone else. I am here for you. If you talk to your friends then things will get better, I promise you."

"How can you promise me that?"

"For years I didn't trusted anyone outside my pack. Now" Derek breathed a long sigh "It's better, having a pack, having people who'll help me." Stiles nodded "Just think about it"

"Sure" Derek smiled and left the room, emerging after a moment with Stiles' wheelchair.

"Here" he turned to leave

"Wait!" Derek turned "Could you maybe, I dunno, camp on the couch or something? It's cold out and hypothermia on top of everything else that's going on wouldn't be very good and"

"I'll stay, just stop babbling" Stiles nodded, half smiling

"So, wanna watch anything?" Derek rolled his eyes as he sat next to Stiles on the sofa. After an hour or two Stiles was fast asleep. Derek carefully placed a blanket over the teenager before leaving the house to resume his normal post. But as he sat in the cold air he felt hope, maybe with work and a lot of help they could actually help Stiles. And Derek realised that he couldn't imagine the alternative, Stiles Stilinski being lost to the world forever. Derek shook his head, he didn't need to think about that because he would not allow it to happen.