Felicity wasn't sure what she was expected to see when she slipped into Stiles' hospital room, a photo album tucked under her arm. It was early, but outside the room the hospital was already buzzing with activity. Inside, though, the room was still dark, sunlight peaking through the windows.

There was enough light in the room to see clearly, and Felicity came to an abrupt stop when she realised what she had walked in on.

Stiles was on the hospital bed, sleeping, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took, his eyelashes looking particularly long and dark against the pale skin of his cheeks. It made Stiles look years younger than he was, especially with the way his hair was sticking up. It wasn't what had startled Felicity though. She'd reflected numerous times during her brother's coma that he looked ridiculously young laying in a hospital bed with tubes going everywhere, so the observation didn't surprise her.

The surprising part was Derek Hale, sitting slouched in one of the chairs beside Stiles' bed, his hand resting on top of Stiles'. Derek's head was lolled to one side, and Felicity could hear him snoring softly.

"Derek" she whispered, not wanting to risk getting too close before waking him up. Even before learning Derek's true nature she would have been cautious. Oliver and Diggle had often told her to use caution waking anyone up, in case they turned violent. Felicity hoped that, if he was startled, Derek wouldn't accidently hurt Stiles, since their hands were actually touching.

Felicity let out a breath she hadn't even noticed that she was holding when Derek startled out of his doze, but didn't lash out at Stiles. Instead he looked sleepily over his shoulder at her, looking so much like the teenager he had been back before the fire.

"Felicity," he greeted with a yawn, moving to rise to his feet, but Felicity shook her head, reaching out a hand and pushing him back down gently, sitting in the unoccupied chair.

"Don't leave just because I'm here, Derek. John said that he left you with Stiles last night. Scott and the others decided that he looked tired and talked him into actually sleeping in a bed. Apparently Lydia can be very convincing when she puts her mind to it."

Derek nodded, "That doesn't surprise me," he commented, before he fell silent. Felicity bit her lip, trying to think of something to say to break the silence, which seemed to drag on and on. Laura had always been chatty, up until the fire. There had never been a silence between them, one of them always filling the quiet when the other didn't know where to say. It was very much like Scott and Stiles were.

"So..." Felicity commented eventually, breaking the silence, "bet you guys used to hate it when I came over when we were all kids...having to hide who you really were."

"I'm sorry," Derek abruptly apologised, and Felicity frowned.

"What for?" she asked in confusion. Derek looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness.

"That we never told you before. Laura wanted to tell you, before the fire, but mom wouldn't let her. They used to argue about it all the time. Laura considered you and Stiles to be pack, she wanted you to know the truth...and then the fire happened, and Laura realised why mom hadn't let her tell. If you knew...if you were told...you would have been in danger too. You and your family. Kate targeted the entire pack that night...if you and Stiles had been there that night you might have been killed as well"

"Hey, Derek...I'm not mad that Laura didn't tell me. Your mom did the right thing...we wouldn't have stood a chance if Kate Argent had decided to go after Stiles or me. I'm more annoyed with myself that I didn't figure it out in the, what, fifteen years Laura and I were friends, when Stiles had it worked out with 24 hours of Scott being bitten. I mean, granted, Scott's not the most subtle of people, but still."

Derek gave a small smile, "I don't think those two really have boundaries as far as one another a concerned." He admitted, "Scott seemed so out of character when Stiles wasn't around these last few weeks. I thought it was just because he wasn't comfortable around the others...he hasn't really been a member of my pack for long, but now I'm thinking Stiles being gone was more of the problem."

"Do you remember when we all used to go to the playground and the kids...Cora...Scott and Stiles...they all used to just run crazy...and Stiles and Scott were always the first ones to collapse...and I just resailed that was because of the werewolf thing...wasn't it?"

Derek nodded, "Cora and the others were all older and bigger than Scott and Stiles though...and Scott had his asthma, so it wasn't that obvious to somebody who didn't know."

"True. Thinking back there were a lot of times that hinted at the truth, wasn't there. I mean, you used to carry Stiles around like he weighed nothing at all...I mean, I know he was scrawny...he still is, but by the time he was eight I couldn't lift and carry him very far anymore...and yet you've carried him for miles without obviously getting tired."

Derek nodded, his gaze fixed on Stiles, still sound asleep on the bed in front of them.

"Do...do you remember the night Stiles ran away from home?" Derek asked. Felicity closed her eyes in pain at the memory. It had only been a few weeks after their mother had died, and Felicity had still been reeling from the loss. John had been finding solace in the bottom of a bottle of whisky, and Stiles hadn't spoken for ten days straight, was barely eating, and hadn't slept through the night in God knew how long. At Melissa's encouragement, Felicity had gone for a sleepover at Laura's, leaving Stiles at home on his own with John. All had been okay, until Felicity had gotten home at ten o'clock the next morning to find that Stiles had slipped out at some point of the night while John was passed out, and now John frantically searching the surrounding neighbourhood looking for his missing son.

Terrified that something had happened to Stiles, especially as it had been a very cold and wet night, Felicity had called as many people as she could. Melissa had arrived with Scott and tried to calm John down, and Laura, Derek, their parents, and their uncle Peter, had all come to help search the woods, along with some of the deputies who were off duty, and all of the Stilinski's neighbours.

Three hours later Laura and Derek had come striding out of the trees, Stiles cradled in Derek's arms, limp and unconscious. Aside from a case of mild hypothermia, a few shallow cuts and bruises and a bump to the head Stiles had been okay...but it had been a lesson learned. From then onwards John stopped drinking to the point of passing out and Felicity either took Stiles out and about with her, took him to Scott's, or Laura came to Felicity's house so that Stiles wouldn't feel so alone.

"You scent tracked him, that day, didn't you?"

Derek nodded, "it rained that night, which made it harder, but yes...Laura cried when we found him alone in the woods. She said it hurt to see three people she considered to be pack so upset." His eyes were filled with pain as he spoke, and Felicity realised that Derek was lost in his memories of Laura, and probably wallowing in his own pain from losing his sister.

"I want to show you something," Felicity offered, seeing Derek's distress, and hoping to cheer him up a little, picking up the photo album from where she had put it down on the floor with her handbag. She put it in Derek's lap, watching as Derek moved to hold it so that it wouldn't slide off.

"It's my photos from back in Beacon Hills...pretty much from when my mom died up until when I left to go to college." She explained when Derek began to flick through it, noticing how his eyes lingering on the images of Laura in the book...and the ones of a much younger Stiles than the one lying in front of them, oblivious to their presence.

Felicity bit her lip when Derek found the photo of him carrying a sleeping Stiles...that Halloween that had been less than a year before the fire. His expression softened, and she could see his eyes misting over, although no tears fell from his eyes

"He was so tired that night," Felicity recalled softly, and Derek nodded before she continued, "Of course...he was trying to keep up with werewolves all night...and he'd been hyped up all day, so I wasn't surprised when he flaked like that. I think I crashed when I went to bed that night just from trying to keep up too. Laura took trick or treating very seriously."

"She did," Derek nodded, "how much do you think Stiles remembers of...of before the fire? He's never said anything to me about how he used to follow me around...and how he used to play with my younger siblings. He knew who I was, when I met him and Scott in the woods the day after Scott got bitten, but that's been the extent of it."

"It was only six years ago, Derek," Felicity pointed out... "And just after he got here I came home from work and found him looing in this album, at the photos of all of us together...and he was crying, so yeah...I'd say he remembers...I wouldn't think he'd mention how you used to carry him around and all that...he is a teenage boy after all. I know, it is Stiles we're talking about, but he does have some concept of pride...and from what I've heard you guys haven't been close enough to talk about that kind of thing for very long. He probably didn't want to risk annoying you by mentioning your family."

Derek snorted and nodded, "I remember him at the funeral. You were hugging Laura and he just came up beside me and stood there...not saying anything...not touching me or trying to hug me...just standing there if I needed him. I never told him how much that meant...to have him there beside me...I mean, I know he was only ten...but..."

"It meant a lot...I get it," Felicity smiled. She did. Stiles often had a way with people, of making them feel better...even if he wasn't saying anything. Felicity had noticed it first when their mom was sick and she felt at her worst, and Stiles would be able to cheer her up.

She and Derek fell into another silence, although this one was far more comfortable than the previous. Ten minutes passed before Felicity spoke again.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Derek shrugged and nodded, and Felicity bit her lip and glancing at Stiles, before she built up the courage to ask.

"Why do you think Stiles has never wanted the bite? When Officer Lance asked last night about injuries he said it didn't make any sense. Apparently the warehouse was covered in blood, but aside from Stiles and the people in the other...gang...that were dead, nobody was obviously injured other than being unconscious. You said that werewolves have advanced healing powers...if Stiles was a werewolf he would have been fine."

Derek sighed, "Stiles has never wanted the bite, as far as I know. I considered offering it to him when I was putting together my pack...but before I had a chance he approached me and said that if I even tried to bite him he'd find a way to kill me slowly and creatively. He's resourceful enough to be able to follow through with that threat, so I decided that he was better off as is. He even put his desire to remain human, no matter what happened, on paper and made me sign it, promising that I wouldn't bite him...even if he was dying."

"Kind of like a do not resuscitate?' Felicity asked for clarification, and Derek nodded.

"A well balanced werewolf pack has a few humans in it to keep the werewolves anchored and still in touch with their humanity, so it wasn't an issue. Getting the bite isn't without risk. It doesn't always work."

"Like with Jackson becoming the Kanima, and Lydia being immune?"

"Those are the better case scenarios," Derek said softly, "We still don't know why Lydia is immune but...but if the body of a normal human rejects the bite it useually means a very slow and very painful death for them. I had enough werewolves to stabilise the pack, especially now with Jackson and Scott, so I didn't want to take the risk with Stiles. If he died because of me then Scott would have killed me, and if he didn't the Argents would have had another reason to want me dead, and then, if Scott told your dad that i was involved in Stiles' death, he would have wanted me dead too...and I didn't want any more enemies, not with everything else that was happening at the time."

"So...if you had the chance, ignoring the fact that Stiles made you sign a do not bite, would you have bitten Stiles that night...at the warehouse?"

Derek hesitated before he spoke, "I would have still respected his wishes and not bitten him...but I would have regretted it for the rest of my life if he died. The bite probably wouldn't have worked...he was too badly injured. Becoming a werewolf takes a lot out of you, I've been told. People who are bitten to save them from death because of injuries or advanced illnesses often die because their bodies physically don't have the strength in them to handle the transition, despite how mentally strong they are, and how much they want the bite."

"So...no guarantees, huh?"

Derek nodded, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb against the back of Stiles' hand. Felicity was fairly certain Derek wasn't even aware that he was doing it.

"It doesn't matter now; the doctors think he'll physically make a full recovery. John...John's more worried about Stiles' mental health now," she told him.

"We'll look after him," Derek told her, "It's what pack is all about...protecting and looking after one another. It's thanks to Stiles that the pack exists in the first place...we won't let him suffer. We'll get him through this, I promise."

Felicity smiled as she surveyed Derek as he spoke. She wasn't exactly sure if he was talking to her or to Stiles, but she got the message. Between his family and his pack...and really, it was basically all the same thing, Stiles would be well looked after.

"I think Laura would be really proud of you, Derek...of the man...the alpha...that you've become. You've come a long way from the little kid who used around in the trees naked and refuse to put clothes on. Your mom would be proud of you too," Felicity told him, honesty in every word.

Derek blushed when Felicity mentioned the naked running in the woods...something she'd been told about extensively by Laura...and even witnessed once when Derek was six, and his eyes filled with grief at the mention of Laura and their mother. Felicity didn't hesitate, putting her arms around Derek and pulling him into a bear hug. He stiffened at first, rigid in Felicity's arms, but then he slowly relaxed into the embrace, his head lowered so it rested on Felicity's shoulder, tears leaking out of his eyes as Felicity hugged him...the last living piece of Laura left walking on this earth other than herself and Peter.

"Did I actually die and go to some weird alternate reality or something?" a hoarse voice asked, and Derek and Felicity sprung apart, looking at Stiles, who had his eyes open and was grinning weakly up at them.

"Stiles!" Felicity mock whined in protest, while Derek gripped Stiles' hand.

"Don't you ever come that close to dying, again...you got that?" Derek growled, although his cheeks were still damp with tears and his voice rather choked up with emotion. Felicity almost flung herself on top of Stiles as she pulled him into a hug, remembering at the last moment to be gentle.

"You're an idiot and I love you, but the next time you get involved in something potentially dangerous I do not want to only find out about it after you've almost been killed."

"Sorry, Felicity," Stiles apologised sheepishly, before he glanced at Derek, "and Sour wolf I am making no promises."

"I don't suppose you'll promise to never step in the way of a bullet that was meant for me either?" Derek asked. Stiles shook his head.

"Nope,' he replied. Derek sighed and rolled his eyes, moving his eyebrows at the same time in a look of exasperation that Felicity vividly remembered seeing on Laura's face numerous times.

"One of these days I'm going to rip..." Derek began to growl, although it was obvious to Felicity that it wasn't serious

"My throat out," Stiles interrupted, "with your teeth. Yeah, heard it all before. I love you too Sourwolf."

Felicity narrowed her eyes, looking from her brother to Derek, a budding suspicion building in her mind.

If it was real, then Laura, had she been alive, would have been in hysterics.

TW/A

Lydia wasn't expecting Stiles to be awake when she walked into his hospital room, so when she heard a voice say "Hi Lydia" when she walked into the room it was a surprise.

"Stiles...I didn't think you'd be awake," Lydia smiled, sitting down beside him. Now that Stiles was doing better the roster had been eased off, which meant that Stiles was alone for short periods of time (about an hour, no more than ninety minutes, and sometimes only half an hour, but Stiles was never alone at night time.) It had given the rest of the pack more freedom to explore Starling City before they headed back to Beacon Hills.

Stiles' doctors had guessed that Stiles would need to stay in hospital for at least four more days, although it would probably be about a week, and then it would be another four or five days before he was well enough to fly back to Beacon Hills and finish off his recovery there.

For the moment though Stiles was bed bound, and getting increasingly bored with being cooped up.

"I woke up not that long ago," Stiles said with a shrug, a slight wince crossing his features when the gesture pulled on the stiches holding his back together, "Dad and Officer Lance are having a buddy cop day. Where's Jackson...you guys are normally joined at the hip?"

"He and the rest of the werewolves went for a run. Apparently there is a big wooded area out behind the Queen property that they were going to check out. Felicity said it would be fine; no-one goes out there, so they won't be seen. They'll be back later this afternoon or early in the evening," Lydia offered in explanation, smoothing out Stiles' blankets busily.

Lydia didn't mention Allison, and Stiles didn't ask about her. They both knew that Allison and Scott had stayed with Stiles the previous night, there to reassure him and calm him back down from the nightmare induced panic attacks that left him once again struggling to breathe. It was why Stiles wasn't alone at night time, so that he had someone there in case he had a nightmare or a panic attack.

"Can I ask you a question?" Stiles queried in a soft, uncertain voice. Lydia frowned and nodded

"Yes, of course you can."

"Me not telling my dad and my sister about the truth and getting Scott and Derek and Allison to do it for me, does it make me a coward?"

Lydia quickly shook her head, "No, Stiles. They needed to know the truth, and you physically weren't strong enough to do it. Your throat is still sore from the breathing tube, you could barely speak without pain, and you could only stay awake for a few minutes at a time. Nobody thinks you were a coward for asking them to do it. Scott told me what you said, and it's so true. It's their bombshell to drop. I think you made a smart choice there."

"It must be the painkillers, did Lydia AMrtin just compliment my intelligence?" Stiles joked with a smile, and Lydia grinned.

"Don't tell Jackson. You might be in the same pack, but that doesn't mean he'll go easy on you once Lacrosse practises start up again."

Stiles groaned at the thought, dropping his head back onto the pillows, missing his favourite pillow from back home.

"Were you annoyed that you missed out on the big reveal?" Stiles asked curiously after a short pause.

Lydia shook her head, "no...Felicity and your dad needed to hear it from Scott...he's the one that they know the best out of all of us except for you. Allison and Scott told me what was said the next day. I think having Scott's mom on speaker was a good idea...I think hearing her talk about it would have helped your dad."

Stiles nodded in agreement and Lydia hesitated, strangely uncertain all of a sudden. Something had twigged in her brain when Scott and Allison had told her what had been said to Stiles dad, and she wanted to ask Stiles about it while they were alone.

"Whenever I've asked, whoever I've asked, I've always been told that it was Jackson that saved me the night...the night I was attacked by Peter."

Stiles nodded, "he was the one with you when the ambulance came," he agreed.

"I never spoke to Jackson about it...I never asked him what happened...but then, Scott and Allison told me that it was you...you were the one that got between Peter and I, you were the one that protected me and made sure he didn't kill me. You risked you life to protect me, going face to face with the same Alpha werewolf that had been killing people all over town...the one who bit your best friend and who chased you both around the town for the previous few months."

"It's not that scary, I do it with Derek all the time." Stiles shrugged, and Lydia sent him a pointed glance.

"Stiles...were you the one that saved me that night?"

"Jackson would have done it if he'd been there," Stiles defended himself; "I was just looking for you in the right spot. It's not that big a deal."

"Stiles...it is a big deal...why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Because it wouldn't have made a difference, and I didn't want how you felt about me to be affected by that night. Like I said, anybody would have done it...even Jackson."

Lydia shook her head at how selfless Stiles was, brushing aside his own achievements and actions as if they meant nothing. She adopted a stern tone of voice as she focused on Stiles' face, her eyes locked onto his, making sure he was paying attention to her.

"I know that you think that you're the weakest member of this pack...because you're not a wolf and you're not trained to kill werewolves...but I think that your humanity is what makes you the strongest member of the pack. You see these things happen...Peter about to kill me, Derek about to get shot at the warehouse...and you dive in and save the day. I think you're the strongest member of the pack...you know that? You're a hero...and don't you ever doubt that."

TW/A

Lydia's words had given Stiles something to think about. It was scary how well she'd been able to read what thoughts were going through his head...and how accurate she had been.

Stiles had never regretted his choice to turn down the bite when Peter hale had offered it to him, but he could not honestly deny the fact that he felt like, of the pack, he was the least useful, especially now that Lydia and Danny were both involved, giving the pack alternative options when it came to researching. Even Peter, as much as Stiles didn't trust him, would know a hell of a lot more about the supernatural than Stiles did.

For a long time Stiles hadn't even known where he stood in relation to Derek and his pack. Sure, Stiles knew he was a member of Scott's pack, like Allison was, but Stiles hadn't known what Derek and his betas had thought of him. He'd liked to think that they thought of him, at least, as an ally and a friend.

Now he knew that they considered him to be pack, and that, for the moment at least, two packs had become one, even after what Allison had done under the influence of her grandfather's hate filled words.

Knowing that the pack had come to his rescue...and Derek's words to him in the warehouse, which Stiles still remembered, even though he'd been in a lot of pain and about to pass out at the time, had reassured him that he belonged in the pack...he was one of them, but it hadn't really done much about Stiles' thoughts about being the weakest member of the pack. Sure, Lydia wasn't trained either...but no one could ever describe Lydia Martin as being weak. Besides, Lydia was Jackson's anchor. Anyone who messed with Lydia would also be messing with Jackson...which would be a fatal mistake.

Lydia's words, however, had helped, although Stiles knew that it wouldn't be the end of it. He knew his head, and he knew that it would take a long time for his feelings of inadequacy regarding the pack to be resolved. Stiles had far too much history with having self depreciating thoughts, as well as more anxiety than was healthy, to mean that he would have a quick recovery.

"Stiles?" a voice broke through his thoughts, and Stile blinked, having been so absorbed in his own turbulent thoughts that he hadn't noticed Scott and Derek walk into his room. Stiles blinked and rubbed his hand over his face, glancing at the clock at the wall and noticing that several hours had passed

"Hey...Lydia said you guys went for a run earlier...was it good?"

"It was nice to be able to get out and use a bit of energy," Scott nodded.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "I feel your pain...I'm going nuts in here...seriously."

"It won't be for much longer...It won't be long and you'll be back at home with us." Scott told Stiles, sitting on the edge of Stiles' bed and putting his hand on Stiles' wrist. Stiles flopped his head back on the pillows with a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked, and Stiles could hear the concern in his voice.

"Nothing...I'm...I'm just frustrated...and bored. They're not letting me take my adderal when I'm on the pain meds, so I literally cannot focus on anything." Stiles was telling the truth. He hated not being on his meds. It made it impossible to keep his overactive mind focused on one thing...even watching TV couldn't keep his mind occupied for long, much to Stiles' distress.

"You seemed pretty intent on something when we walked in," Scott pointed out, and Stiles gave a small shrug, wincing when the gesture pulled at his stiches. He really needed to remember that he shouldn't shrug his shoulders like that.

"Just thinking about stuff," he told them. This time it was Derek rolling his eyes at Stiles' evasiveness, but neither of the werewolves pushed for details...something for which Stiles was extremely grateful.

Some things he was happy to be open about...but others he wasn't ready to talk about just yet.