Dr Khatri didn't react to the news that Stiles had almost successfully killed himself in quite the way Stiles would have imagined.

While she was saddened that Stiles had felt as though that was the only option left for him she said it wasn't a surprise given what he'd been through and his state of mind. She'd thought she'd have a little more time given his injuries to hopefully talk him out of making the attempt, so she'd been very thankful to Derek for stopping him.

What threw Stiles though was how excited she was on two fronts:

The first was the magic he'd managed to do to get himself up to the roof un-accosted and how she believed that the equivalent exchange the magic was taking from it was the fact that Stiles had lived when he'd used it to help him die.

Both Stiles and Derek (who Stiles had demanded to be allowed to stay for the session even though it was technically against hospital policy) learned that morning that Dr Khatri and Deaton had been having extensive talks about the depth of Stiles' power but hadn't been able to agree on anything concrete besides the fact that Stiles was stronger than average for the stage he was at in accessing it.

Now though they would have spell length, strength, and numbers to work with while comparing it to Stiles physical, mental and emotional state at the time, which gave them much more to work with. Even before 'crunching the numbers' as Dr Khatri had referred to it with relish, she could confirm that Stiles was way above what was typical and if correctly trained might even be powerful enough to become a mage rather than a druid. (When questioned about the difference between the two Dr Khatri had dismissively said that Deaton would be the better person to explain it properly before jumping on to the other thing she was so delighted about.)

The second point the good doctor almost lost all professional decorum over when she excitedly explained the breakthrough Stiles had apparently had the night before.

"Now that you have not only admitted yourself just how bad you feel, but have also made such a connection with Derek and now know that you can rely on him to be there for you and vice versa is huge. A patient can go for years without making very much headway because they are unable to even admit to themselves what it is they're feeling and why, due in part the disassociation that they feel in connection to their emotions. You not only made one, but two enormous breakthroughs last night and I feel that I can move onto the next stage of your treatment now."

Derek and Stiles glanced at each other, Derek gripping Stiles' unbroken hand a little more firmly and giving him a proud smile. Stiles tentatively smiled back before turning to face Dr Khatri.

"Before we get started on that, Doctor, I really need to ask your advice on what I should do regarding my, er, suicide attempt. Both Derek and you now know, but should I tell Scott and my dad? Both of them have been really badly affected by everything that happened to me; they both feel that they've failed me, my dad especially, and both of them are in really fragile places because of it," he nodded towards Derek. "Derek here feels the same, but since we had such a revealing talk last night I think he knows that he can talk to me about his concerns without him having to worry that I'll buckle under the weight of them. We're both in many ways in a similar emotional and mental state, so I feel we'll be able to understand each other's difficulties better than most, whereas with dad and Scott I think they feel that I wouldn't be able to cope with them talking to me about how they're feeling."

He sighed, trying to come up with the right words to explain how Scott and his dad had been treating him.

"They've been basically treating me as if I'm made from bone china, and I get it," he gestured with his better arm to his near skeletal frame. "I look like a gust of wind would shatter me right now and up until today I have been in a very brittle emotional state. But they've been so careful around me, are spending so much time thinking about every word that comes out of their mouth and censoring it if they think it'll be too much for me, that they're hurting themselves.

"Maybe before last night I wasn't ready for them to lean on me a little, but now the more I think of it the more I think it will do me as well as them some good. I'm just scared and concerned that revealing such a big thing to them, that I came so close to killing myself, will hurt them in a way that I won't ever be able to fix. So should I leave this between the three of us here? Or should I tell them? I'd like to tell them, but I also don't want to hurt them any more than I already have."

Dr Khatri was quiet for quite some time, mulling over everything that Stiles just told her, and Stiles appreciated that she was taking the time to think on it rather than just quote out a section that she'd memorised from one of her psychology books.

"You're right in that this is a very delicate situation," she began. "And if this isn't handled correctly it could indeed end up harming them in a way that could cause long-term repercussions. I've been told by Dr Brillington that your father is awake and keeps trying to leave his bed so that he can come and see you, in which his plans are being continually hampered by nurse McCall. The thing that he is most focused on right now is not his own health but yours."

She stood up and went over to the window, gazing out with complete composure, as though she were going over her grocery list rather than discussing such a fragile topic.

"The problem with telling friends and relatives about something as serious as a suicide attempt is that if you to leave it a while, even if it is done with the best intentions, the friends or family members can feel like you didn't trust them with such important information. It can cause rifts in relationships that in many ways can be harder to repair than the knowledge of the suicide attempt itself. If they know straight away, while it might devastate them it can still give them a clear goal, a focus if you will, in which they can support you to the best of their abilities. They'll want to help you get better, of course, but they'll also want you to feel that you can go to them when you're at your worst as well."

She paused a few moments, thinking things over a little more before moving over to the table to pour herself a glass of water and taking a few sips.

"I think it would be in everybody's best interest if you were to tell them sooner rather than later. I think you'll find that even when they're like this they're still stronger than you might think, and I believe it will go a long way in getting them to admit to their own problems and to start actively trying to do something to counter them."

Stiles hadn't considered that. The idea she was presenting of this hopefully helping his dad finally facing up to his drinking problem out of denial of his depression, as well as Scott ending his half-heartedness in learning how to be an alpha. Well, if there was even a chance of that happening then Stiles had to try.

Dr Khatri gave him a small smile and nod in recognition of his rising determination.

"I'd like to suggest that you and I do it with them individually, so you can give the both of them your full attention. I will be there as firstly a medical professional and secondly a neutral party, but it will also give me a chance to offer my services to them for their issues. Frankly, I'd also like to get Scott's go ahead to start working with all of the pack," she paused for a second, her eyes sliding to Derek, who looked back at her a little warily.

Her smile this time had a slightly sharp, yet playful edge to it and Stiles found himself repressing a sigh. What was it about Derek that made older, powerful women want to tease the hell out of him?

"Considering the progress you in Derek have made in the last twelve hours I think it could be very beneficial to you if he were there too," the playful smile dropped and then she was gazing earnestly at them. "Of course these are just suggestions, everything is up to the both of you."

Stiles felt Derek squeezed his hand reassuringly again and he found himself nodding.

"I think your suggestion is better than anything we've been able to come up with, so let's go with that."

xXx

This time it had gone roughly as Stiles had anticipated.

Both his dad and Scott had at first been horrified then upset then grateful he was still there then almost falling over themselves to thank Derek, and then finally swaying backwards and forwards between bone deep relief, anger, and an intense stubbornness to never let things get that bad again. Both promised Stiles that he could come to them about anything, the matter how big or small, in the future. Both of them readily agreed to start getting treatment from Dr Khatri when she calmly suggested it, pointing out that their own issues were hindering their support for Stiles without coming across as patronising or aggressive.

If Stiles hadn't been head over heels for Derek he probably would have fallen a little bit in love with her as he watched her masterfully guide them in the direction they needed to go for their own sake, but were too stubborn to see.

It had been just as easy for Dr Khatri to gain permission from Scott to approach the rest of the pack. All he asked was that if they truly didn't want her help that she not try to force it. She had agreed and Stiles could all but see her doing the mental equivalent of cracking her knuckles in preparation.

By the end of the day Stiles had burst into exhausting yet cathartic tears no less than four separate times; the first when he was telling his dad and his dad had told him that he didn't hate him for doing such thing, the second time was when Scott told him exactly the same thing. The third time was when he and Derek had been left alone for a while to regroup and it had all simply become a bit too much. Then the fourth time was when the four of them had gathered together back in his room and Stiles had looked around and realised he was surrounded by people who loved him with every fibre of their being, and would do anything to protect him, and for the first time in a long time he allowed himself to believe it and know it to be true. So if the fourth time the other three hadn't held their tears back either, well, that would be something kept between them.

The days that followed were not easy, there is no 'easy' in any form of recovery, but they were better.

Stiles' body started responding positively to all the medicine and the healing he was receiving, both from the hospital and from Deaton, which delighted everyone. Derek had been able to coax him into starting to eat again, and allowed Stiles all the grumbling he wanted about the foul taste of the porridge/gruel/soup horror. If anything Stiles' body, now his mind was on board with getting better, started healing so quickly that Dr Brillington almost started to get suspicious.

Dr Khatri did as she said and stepped her therapy with Stiles up to the next level, which was now that he had acknowledged how bad he was feeling he could start to learn how to channel the emotions and the long stretches of time when he was still apathetic into something if not more positive, then something that wouldn't drag him any deeper. The doctor didn't try to sugar-coat just how difficult and long the process would be, which Stiles was grateful for even though he already knew that there would probably be times in the future when he would curse her over it.

One thing that he was already finding both frustrating and rewarding was his trying to open up emotionally to the rest of the pack outside of Derek.

With his dad it could quickly become overwhelming for one or the both of them, whereas with Lydia it was almost too easy since she always remained so calm, supportive, and had also read every psychology book based on recovering from an abusive relationship that she had been able to get her hands on in such a short amount of time. So, for example, Stiles would become exacerbated to the point of tears with something as simple as not being able to reach the remote his bed and once he had calmed and opened his mouth to apologise, Lydia would already be there breaking down how she understood exactly why he would react in such a way to things so there was no reason for him to apologise or try to explain it away to her.

It was sometimes infuriating, but when Lydia had tentatively started to talk to him about her own sessions with Dr Khatri, and how it was how she was coping with coming to terms with her guilt over letting Stiles down due to having been unable to let go of her grief over losing Allison, nor the horrific events she had been dragged through over the past almost two years, well, Stiles just couldn't stay mad at her; he still loved her after all, just not romantically anymore.

Scott on the other hand was another story.

Perhaps it was because he was so bighearted, or it might have been because he was still trying to wrap his head around how he had missed the fact that his oldest friend, his brother, had been abused for months without him realising, but Scott was continually either too over-emotional or too under-responsive. He was trying though and after several very frustrating days for the two of them they had sat down (or in Stiles' case remained lying down,) with Dr Khatri and at her gentle prompting talked it over. It ended with them coming to the agreement that if Scott felt lost in how to treat Stiles he could ask Stiles what he wanted him to do, or to ask Stiles to describe what it was he was feeling in a way he could comprehend.

After agreeing Scott had asked almost instantly for Stiles to explain the apathy that he was still experiencing most of the time, finally admitting that when Stiles got like that Scott felt as though he was talking to a stranger in his friend's body and found it a real struggle. He didn't mention the Nogitsune, but he didn't need to.

Knowing that Scott responded best things explained in a very visual manner, Stiles had responded by saying it was as though he were sitting on a dock, watching the water, and his emotions were fish; one would rise close enough to the surface that the sunlight would catch it, drawing Stiles' eye, but just as he was starting to appreciate its beauty it would be gone, swimming back down into the murky depths and out of his reach.

Scott, to everyone's delight, finally understood, saying that he'd experienced something similar after Allison's death that had significantly decreased as the months had passed, but still surfaced from time to time. Stiles, with Dr Khatri's help, explained that it was called disassociation, and they had spent the rest of their time together puzzling over the intricacies of human emotions, which had prompted Scott to explain why he'd draw away from Stiles so much.

(Dr Khatri by this point couldn't help beaming ecstatically every now and again, over the moon at the progress they were making.)

It had turned out that he hadn't been blaming Stiles for Allison's death at all. Rather, he had been stressing out so much over how to help Stiles, who he could see was suffering (from what he thought was merely the aftereffects of what had happened with the Nogitsune), while struggling to manage his own depression, that it just got to the point that he'd panic whenever he saw Stiles and would run away. Then when Stiles didn't try to approach Scott in return, Scott had thought that Stiles was the one who wanted him to stay away. The next thing he knew he hadn't even been able to meet Stiles' eyes anymore, and even while he realised how much their relationship had deteriorated he just didn't know how to fix it.

Eventually, utterly lost, Scott had just gone along with it, too lost in his own problems to try anything more than telling himself occasionally that it would all work itself out somehow.

Then Derek had told him about the pack bonds and Scott had thought that if he fixed them, that it would fix things between him and Stiles as well and he'd thrown himself heart and soul into it, all but forcing Derek to help him around the clock. However, once he'd achieved control over the pack bonds and had seen improvement in the others, Scott had had to fact the grim realisation that his pack bond to Stiles was so faint that it didn't seem to have any impact on Stiles at all. So he'd despaired and lost himself in denial again.

Scott had been in tears by the end, apologising over and over again for being such a terrible friend, and Stiles had found one of the easiest things he'd had to do in a long time was to slide his good arm over and take Scott's hand, while giving him a small smile and telling him that he was forgiven.

So far their agreement was working well.

The situation between Stiles and Derek was one that they didn't look at too closely for the time being. Both now knew where they stood with each other and so there wasn't any pressure to rush into anything. So far nothing has progressed past a few forehead kisses, nuzzling, and handholding, and both were more than happy with that.

They continued to talk a lot and very openly about anything and everything under the sun, so when after almost a week to the day since Stiles' suicide attempt and subsequent love confession, Derek had stumbled into Stiles' room in the afternoon during Parrish's shift and collapsed into a shaking ball on the edge of Stiles' bed, somehow managing to safely burrow under or over all of the wires and drips without disturbing anything, Stiles did nothing more than wrap his good arm around him, plant a gentle kiss on his head, and tell him he was proud of him. He did nothing more, returning unfazed to the book he had open in his lap, until Parrish couldn't help voicing his concerns over whether Derek was okay or not and if they need to do something.

"I know what this is," Stiles had said. "He needs to come through this on his own; he'll talk when he's ready," and Parrish had to leave it at that, even though the frustration in doing nothing and knowing nothing was clear on his face.

Derek didn't move for the rest of Parrish's stay, although he gradually stopped shaking. He kept his head buried against Stiles' side in a way that he wouldn't have been able to a week ago, one arm wrapped carefully even now around Stiles' waist, and his legs tucked up as close to himself as possible with his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. He didn't speak, didn't do anything, not the tiniest twitch, until long after Parrish had left.

When he finally stirred the evening was drawing in, painting the room gold.

"How are you feeling?" Stiles asked gently, his hand stroking softly through Derek's hair, quietly delighting that his fingers were now sensitive enough to feel it.

"Raw," Derek muttered into his side. "Like every part of my insides have been scratched half to death and then had lemon juice poured into the wounds."

Stiles winced in sympathy.

"It hurts," Derek continued. "But in a way that feels somehow clean, as though now the infection has been washed out everything can actually start to heal."

Stiles dropped another kiss on to Derek's head and continued to run his fingers through his hair. They remain silence as the sun fully set, the sky continued to darken to a rich blue, and the stars started to appear.

"When I get out of here I'm going to take you stargazing," Stiles whispered into the quiet room.

"I'd like that," Derek said as he shifted, turning his head and lifting it to rest against Stiles' bicep so he could look out of the window as well.

There was silent for a while longer, both utterly comfortable with the other and under no pressure to be anyone but themselves.

"I think I always knew that the first therapy session would be awful to experience, which was why I probably put it off for so long and tried to fool myself into thinking that it was perfectly okay to wake up and be disappointed that I'd woken up."

"Yeah, Doctor Khatri pulls no punches," Stiles smirked.

"You're right there. I think there was a couple of times when I was more afraid of her that I was of my memories," Derek chuckled before becoming serious once again. "I'm glad I did it though. I think it'll be hard for a long time yet, but I think that with her help we'll both get there."

"Did she get the chance to talk to you about the different types of therapy that she offered?"

Derek nodded.

"For the meantime she wants me to continue with the normal counselling, but she suggested that Cognitive Behaviour Therapy and Mindfulness could really work for me in the future."

Stiles hummed an agreement.

"She said the same thing to me but that I might also benefit from something called Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing therapy, or something like that, she also referred to it as EMDR which is much less of a mouthful."

"What the hell is that?"

"I'm not entirely sure, she explained it to me but honestly it kind of went over my head. As far as I could make out it's something that can really work, but no one's sure exactly why it works. I'll look into it once I can research it more but right now that's impossible for me, so I've set Lydia on it. I'm sure she'll get back to me with an encyclopaedia's worth of knowledge about it and will want to try it herself on me."

Derek gave a small chuckle.

"I'm sure she will. She seems to really be thriving now that you're asking her to help with things for you."

"Do you think so?"

Derek shifted so he could look up at Stiles a little more, his eyes catching the moonlight shining into the room.

"Yeah, when you were first admitted and she realised that she had missed all of the signs of abuse she almost completely shut down. Scott told me that she seem to spend most of the time beating herself up about it. When he tried to help her, she in her typical Lydia way almost bit his head off, saying something about how she should have been smart enough to realise what was going on."

"Dammit," Stiles groaned, wishing he could rub his bad hand over his face in frustration as his good hand was still occupied stroking through Derek's hair.

"It's okay. I think when you're out of here, and emotionally in a better place it will be good for the two of you to sit down and talk about it, but right now she's just delighted that you are doing better and that she can be useful to you."

Stiles did want to talk to her about it immediately because while Lydia had admitted her guilt to him, she had been purposely vague over how she'd been directly after Stiles had been put in the hospital. All he could remember was her pale face fixed in a determined expression as she'd flicked through his chart, memorising every broken bone and abrasion to torment herself with. It was the only bit she'd come clean on since he'd pressed her about so blatantly doing something that could get her into serious trouble. Knowing that there was more bothered him, but he saw the sense in Derek's words.

"Fine," he grumbled. "I'm doing it as soon as I can though."

Derek smirked.

"Well you wouldn't be you if you didn't."

They fell silent again and after a while Stiles noticed that Derek's breathing had evened out into the familiar pattern of sleep, leaving him to the thoughts racing through his mind.

He really did have to sit down and have individual talks with his pack mates once he was out of the hospital; Lydia, Isaac, and Kira especially. Strangely enough he also felt he needed to talk to Peter, but the man was still missing and no one was sure if he was even in Beacon Hills anymore. Stiles had the feeling that he would be back though given what was said in their last conversation.

Things with his dad was still very fragile, but Melissa had assured him that she was keeping a close eye on the Sheriff and had hooked a more than willing Parrish into doing the same thing at the station as well. Stiles was going to have to sit down and have a long talk with her as well, she more than deserved it.

Scott was both easy and hard, and would continue to be for a long time to come. Their relationship had deteriorated to a level it had never been to before and neither was sure that they would ever be able to bring it back to what it once was. Relationships changed naturally though, and if everything went according to plan and Stiles managed to ensure that he didn't have to repeat junior year they would both more than likely be heading off to different colleges in a little over a year's time.

There had definitely been a shift in their relationship, even before the whole mess with the Nogitsune and Malia. They were both older, wiser, and had gone through so many life or death situations both together and apart that things couldn't help but change between them.

Stiles didn't think that there was anything that Scott could ever really do to make him hate him, but they were learning to stand on their own and settle into the men that they would soon be, no longer needing to continually lean on each other for support, too afraid to face the world alone, and while it stung a little that was the way it should be.

Finally there was Stiles' relationship Derek.

While admitting how they felt about each other had helped the both of them enormously, the two of them were still only in the early days of learning how to live with the debilitating traumas they had both been through that left deep scars on their psyche.

They were both having to learn each other's triggers, and they would both have to learn how to deal with each other on the bad days as well as the good. They would have to learn how to not only give support but to also lower their barriers enough to receive it. It was entirely possible that this tentative, fragile thing that was growing between them would not be able to cope under the strain of it all and shatter, but Stiles knew if they didn't take this chance, if they didn't try, then that would be the greater tragedy.

Both of them were adult enough to admit that them saying 'I love you' to each other didn't fix things. It didn't just suddenly magically make either of them stop wanting to die, but they both had a clear reason to hold back now, whereas before everything had been a murky uncertainty at best.

Truly knowing Derek's feelings and finally welcoming his support open Stiles' eyes to how badly he'd unintentionally hurt everyone.

He could finally see how his depression had twisted his reality so much, and now he knew for sure that everyone wouldn't be happier with him gone he promised himself that he'd never do that to them again. No matter how badly he might want to die in the future, he'd never again try to take that final step for them.

There was still so much for Stiles to work through: his depression, his panic disorder, physically recovering from his injuries, putting on weight, his PTSD about Malia - such as the nightmares, the flashbacks, the fact that he kept on thinking that he was seeing her everywhere, his near complete inability to cope with women touching him, and so much more.

If Stiles still felt that he were alone he would crumple at the first hurdle, but he didn't feel that way anymore.

It was a good start.

xXx

With all of the therapy and repairing bridges Stiles was doing, he completely forgot that he still hadn't given his statement on what had happened the night Malia had attacked him until two deputies who Stiles had known since he was in diapers had turned up, both looking apologetic but determined.

Derek had already been in the room and had snarled when they had suggested he leave. The deputies' hands had remained hovering by their belts every time Derek twitched after that.

Understanding why the statement needed to be done, but also unsure if either he or Derek would be able to make it through with only each other for support, Stiles had been quick to ask for Dr Khatri to join them.

She had unsurprisingly been the calming balm everyone had needed, but even with her there it had still been very difficult for Stiles.

It was only when he was almost half way through that he remembered that the 'official' version of events they were going with was that Malia had attacked him and then set a feral dog on him to explain away the bites and howling the neighbours had heard.

He'd managed to recover from it by explaining that his memory of the night was understandably more than a little hazy, and the officers had eaten it up with sympathetic nods.

They were as gentle and as quick as they could be and had left with heartfelt wishes from the entire department for him to feel better soon, as well as a few jokes about how much they'd missed Stiles' cooking at the bi-monthly department parties. Stiles had shakily promised to be back on form for the next one and then had almost had a panic attack as soon as they were gone.

Derek had praised him for getting through it all so well, covering his almost healed face with kisses while Dr Khatri had given them a moment.

When Stiles was calmed enough she had told him that he had significantly improved in the short time she'd been working with him for him to get through all of that without a flashback or panic attack.

Stiles had absorbed their words like a sponge in water and had been shaky but feeling lighter somehow for the rest of the day.

xXx

A couple of days later Stiles was finally discharged from the hospital, which caused much celebration both with his pack and the hospital staff, who had all been a little overwhelmed by the insanely overprotective stream of people who were constantly visiting the Sheriff's son, even out of visiting hours.

One of the first things that struck Stiles as soon as he'd been wheeled back into his home in a hopefully very temporary wheelchair was that there was no way he was going to be able to go into the kitchen, the dining room, or his own bedroom in the near future.

He immediately made it clear that for the time being he would be staying in the guest bedroom and thankfully no one even thought to protest.

As Derek had been getting him settle into the guest room, John had slipped into Stiles' old room to grab a few necessities for his son and had walked in gripping Stiles' laptop and a few changes of clothes.

Stiles was then treated to his second realisation of the day, in that while he was more than happy to see his laptop he would not be able to wear any clothes that Malia had touched, which basically meant all of them.

Once again neither Derek nor his dad had put up any fuss when he had haltingly told them so. Derek had simply said that he bring him some of his own clothes and John had momentarily ducked out of the room then reappeared with several pairs of sweats and old police academy T-shirts.

Stiles was a little embarrassed to say that he was reduced to tears.

His third, and frankly the worst, realisation had come that evening, after Stiles had nodded off after a simple but tasty soup. Almost immediately he was inundated with nightmares and quickly began to drown under the weight of them before Derek shook him awake, fear leaving his face drawn and pale as he shakily explained Stiles had stopped breathing again.

It hadn't taken Stiles long to work out (after a quick phone call to Dr Khatri, who was surprisingly nonchalant about being disturbed so late and promised to visit him tomorrow morning,) that the hospital had lulled him into a false sense of security. Being back in the house where the majority of his abuse had taken place had been a bleak reminder in just how far he had to go before he felt the slightest bit free of her.

He had drawn into himself after that, going back to refusing to speak, but he'd almost become hysterical as soon as Derek had tried to leave the room.

In the end Derek had had to let John take his keys and go out his car to get his bag, but he hadn't seemed the slightest bit upset or angry with Stiles while he patiently waited.

After John had returned with his bag and had said good night to Stiles, Derek had stripped down to his boxers and then dug through the bag before pulling out a worn and very soft looking pair of pyjama bottoms along with a threadbare T-shirt.

He quickly put them on, didn't bother trying to turn off the small bedside lamp, and then crawled into the bed next to Stiles.

While he couldn't bring himself to talk at that moment, Stiles didn't think that even if he could he would be able to express just how grateful he was to have Derek in his life in that moment.

Derek didn't say a word as Stiles carefully turned and snuggled himself into his side, even though it meant he would have to put up with an uncomfortable cast slung across his chest for the rest of the night.

Stiles wasn't bothered by any more nightmares and felt up to talking again the next day.

xXx

After that Derek didn't even bother to try to go home in the evenings, and neither Stiles nor his dad tried to suggest he go.

Within a few days most of Derek's possessions that he'd had in his bedroom at the loft had made their way into the Stilinski's guest room. Bits and pieces from Stiles' room had made their way in as well and it was almost surreal how quickly they as well as everyone else started referring to it as 'their' room.

Stiles, still being wheelchair bound, had not been able to go to buy any more clothes. While he'd bookmarked a few things online he hadn't been able to bring himself to order any so he was currently dividing himself between wearing his dad's clothes and Derek's.

His dad and Derek didn't seem to mind, if anything it seemed to develop into a little bit of competition between the two of them to see who could get Stiles to wear their clothes the most, which usually consisted of leaving them within grabbing distance of Stiles when he first woke up. Currently Derek was winning, much to his satisfaction.

xXx

Before the end of Stiles' first week back home, John, who had been taking the time off to ensure that he could look after Stiles along with Derek received a call from the Sheriff's Department from Parrish. Malia's adopted father had turned up their asking to speak with him.

Since Malia was still missing, meaning that Stiles needed to be guarded round-the-clock, it wasn't something that could be overlooked and John reluctantly headed in.

Twenty minutes later he called Stiles' cell, and thirty minutes after that Malia's adoptive father was settling himself onto the couch in the Stilinski home.

If Stiles was apprehensive, his dad was grim, and Derek paced like a caged wolf around the edges of the living room, constantly checking every doorway and window with a burning intensity.

Mr Tate, no longer the fanatically driven wreck of a man they'd first met, but instead a grieving father and husband, began by apologising to Stiles for not coming to see him sooner. He explained that he had not known what his adopted daughter had been doing until he was called into the station for questioning after she had gone missing, and he had been advised to avoid seeing Stiles until he was more settled in case the sight of his abusers father made things much worse.

Mr Tate had been the furthest thing from Stiles mind while he was in the hospital and so it was little to no trouble for him to accept the man's apology.

Emboldened by Stiles' acceptance, Mr Tate went on to describe how much his life had changed after Malia had been found:

At first he had thought that all of his prayers had been answered, but his sense of relief had been stripped away in a matter of hours as it became more and more apparent how damaged Malia was and how little he could help her.

He talked of how she'd been unable to comprehend even basic things and that whenever he'd tried to teach her she would quickly become so violent that he'd feared for his life several times.

The final straw came when she had exploded into yet another fit of anger, repeatedly put her fists through the wall as though it were paper, and then he had seen her features shift into something inhuman.

He'd thought that he was finally going mad, and he hadn't felt that he was fit to look after any child let alone one with as many problems as Malia. Then he admitted that even if he hadn't been going mad, the experience had made him accept that Malia needed serious, full-time support that he couldn't give, which was why he'd ended up sending her to Eichen House.

Ignoring the coffee that John had set in front of him, Mr Tate continued on, going over how Malia had very slowly started to learn a few of the more basic human concepts but that the doctors there had explained that even if she would ever be mentally fit enough to leave, it would be a process that would take years to get her up to a basic functioning level, and that she'd probably never be able to develop much past that.

It had been a bitter pill to swallow, so imagine Mr Tate's surprise when a couple of months later she herself had called him seeming significantly better and excitedly going on about meeting someone who would be able to help her more than all of the doctors. He had been so excited, so happy at hearing her talking like a normal teenager that he had immediately agreed for her release, ignoring the wary advice of the doctors and his own common sense.

While she had initially moved back into her bedroom it had become apparent almost straight away that she wasn't staying in there. He'd tried to ignore what that was telling him and focused all of his efforts into getting Malia into the local high school so she could become even more like a 'normal' teenager. She'd been very insistent about attending there; saying that the person who was helping her was also going there.

Pretty soon she was gone more often than not and it became apparent to Mr Tate that while she had improved enough to pass as a normal teenager at a glance, all someone would have to do was talk to her for more than a few minutes to realise how wrong that impression was.

The last time she'd turned up he'd confronted her about it, saying that he'd been getting worrying reports from the school about her failing grades and aggressive attitude and that he thought it was best that she returned to Eichen House.

Her response had been to lift him with one hand over her head, her eyes glowing a terrifying blue and the rest of her face shifting into something much more animalistic, and literally roaring at him through her fangs that no one would tear her away from her mate. After that she thrown him into the wall so hard that he'd been knocked out and when he'd woken up she had gone.

He hadn't gone to the police because who would believe him? And even if they had what hope did normal humans have against containing something like her? Then after a while he had convinced himself that it must have all just been a product of his own insanity and that his daughter was safer and happier without him around.

A few months later Mr Tate was called into the station about the attack and had to face up to his own devastating guilt over the fact that he could have stopped it all from happening and did nothing because he'd refused to accept that his daughter was a monster.

A couple of days after hearing about the attack and finally crawling out of his drunken stupor he'd found a thick envelope waiting for him on his doormat. Inside was a very thorough series of forms that if signed would renounce all his parental responsibility towards Malia, giving her biological parents back the right instead.

Along with the forms was a letter stating that Malia's birth mother would be looking after her from now on, that she knew what Malia was and how to control it, and that Malia would not be returning to California, let alone Beacon Hills, again.

After going over the letter and forms repeatedly for the next few days, Mr Tate had finally signed them with a combined sense of loss and relief and had then sent them off with the pre-addressed envelope that had been sent with them.

"So I would like to apologise yet again from not getting in touch with you sooner," Mr Tate ended his story. "I just wanted you to know that you'll never have to see her again. She's gone."

Stiles was left speechless with the revelation, something that Mr Tate didn't seem surprised by as he stood, thanked everyone for their time and excused himself, leaving the frozen tableau in the living room.

Eventually, Stiles managed to open and close his mouth several times before he managed to get out a shaky "she's gone?" which broke the frozen moment and caused the other two to rush to his side.

"I'll have to look into it but I think he was telling the truth," his dad said in a rushed wave of eagerness, one trembling hand pressing against Stiles' shoulder before he was up and heading out of the room, already speed dialling Parrish as he went.

Derek knelt on the floor in front of Stiles, gazing up at him with eyes more full of hope than Stiles had ever seen before.

"I can really finally be free of her?" Stiles looked to him from reassurance and Derek gave it wholeheartedly.

"I think so, Stiles. I really think so."