The rain was coming down in sheets. It figures. Stiles wasn't sure he believed in omens, but – as a loud crack of thunder sounded above his Jeep – he was pretty sure this was one.

He pulled up to Derek's loft early, hoping to beat most of the pack there so he could get in without a fight. Derek didn't seem to have any issue with him… strange as that was. He hoped the wolf would let him in so he could plead his case to the rest of the pack.

Stiles jogged up the steps to Derek's floor, knocking on the large sliding door.

"Stiles."

Stiles jerked around to see Derek standing behind him, soaking wet, "Jesus, Derek. Warn a guy." He let out a heavy breath.

Derek quirked an eyebrow, "Isn't that what I just did?"

"No." Stiles crossed his arms, avoiding watching the droplets of water drip from dark hair, "You totally just ninja wolfed me." Derek walked past him, pulling open the door to his home, "Dude. You literally smell like wet dog."

"I'm assuming you want to come in." Derek said, blocking his path, "Probably not a good idea to insult the guy with the keys."

Stiles let out a dramatic sigh, "Aw, come on sour wolf. You know I literally have zero control over what comes out of my mouth."

"Unfortunately." He said, stepping out of the way and allowing Stiles through.

Stiles pulled off his jacket and hung it on a rack, running a hand through his wet hair, "Thanks, man."

Derek shrugged, walking swiftly to the back room. He heard the shower turn on a moment later and felt a twinge of guilt for saying anything about the wet dog smell.

"You didn't smell that bad!" He called out. Out of nowhere a pile of soaking wet clothes knocked him in the back of the head, "Oh my god!" Stiles glared down the hall, holding back a blush, "I take that back! You reek!"

He could swear he heard a laugh coming from down the hall.

Stiles tossed the clothes in the sink, not giving into wandering around to find the hamper like he wanted.

When he walked back into the main room, Scott was standing in front of the open door, arms crossed over his chest, "What are you doing here, Stiles?"

Stiles frowned, "Hello to you, too."

Derek came out from the bathroom then, dressed in dry clothes, "Scott." He nodded.

Scott's eyes tinged red, "Why did you let him come here? We were having a meeting."

Derek's eyes flashed a familiar blue in response, "Last I checked, this is my loft."

Stiles never understood why Derek chose to join Scott's pack. He didn't strike him as the submissive type, and right now, he could see their ranks being tested.

Wiping a weary hand across his forehead, Scott leveled Derek with a pleading look, "You know why he can't be here. It's for his own good."

"My own-"

"And it's hard enough for the pack as it is. Seeing him – smelling him… It'll be too much." Scott ignored him, continuing his reasoning.

He felt sick, "Scott." Stiles raised his voice enough to get the alpha's attention, "I want to have an official meeting with everyone. There should be a vote. If you're truly as fair of an alpha as you say, you'll grant me and our pack this choice."

Scott pursed his lips, "There was already a vote, Stiles."

"It was far from unanimous." Derek grunted.

Stiles took in a steady breath, "So this is it then. You're banishing me from the pack because I'm human and it's too dangerous?" Scott nodded, "Isn't it more dangerous to not keep me in the pack?"

"We will protect you just like we protect everyone else in town. We won't let you get hurt, Stiles." Scott promised.

"This is hurting me!" He yelled, snapping his mouth shut before he said any more.

Scott had the audacity to look upset, "Stiles-"

"Yeah, fine, you guys don't need me. Maybe a few of you even don't want me… But did you ever think that I need you?"

After a full minute of silence, Scott finally made eye contact, his eyes glowing red, "This is for your own good."

Stiles nodded, his lips pulling down, "If you were ever my friend, you'd understand."

With that, he side stepped Scott and left the loft. The rest of the pack was standing outside in the halls, wearing various emotions across their faces. Lydia made an aborted gesture, as if to reach out to him, but Jackson placed a hand on her shoulder and she dropped her arm.

He wanted to say something. Tell them they're wrong, that they need to defend him, explain himself, tell them he'll miss them, something… But he dropped his eyes and pressed past them, taking the stairs down one at a time.

What was he going to say to make them take him back? It wasn't up to them. That was probably another reason why Stiles was ousted from the pack, something building up over time… He was human, therefore he didn't have the bone-deep need to obey the alpha. Stiles was loyal to the pack, but he had the ability to go rogue if he didn't agree with the alpha's final word. Which he proved tonight when he showed up unannounced and unwelcome to a pack meeting.

He was about to walk out of the building when the arguing started above him. Stiles could make out his name amongst the growling.

Good, he thought bitterly as he stepped out of the double doors and into the pouring rain. Stiles wasn't sure how long he stood there, getting soaked through. He couldn't hear much over the hiss of the water splashing the pavement, so he startled when he felt something nudge against his leg. He glanced down to see the same black dog from before pushing him forward, blinking blue eyes against the rain to see him.

Without much light around, Stiles could tell that the strange blue glow to the dog's eyes wasn't a reflection or a trick of the light. He still hadn't made his mind up that this wasn't all some hallucination, but what if there was a shifter trapped inside the dog like Malia had been?

Stiles cautiously reached out a hand, surprised when the dog pressed up into his palm, leveling him with a strange look. Though he shouldn't be surprised. If this was indeed the same dog, it had taken a vested interest in him since he'd first seen him outside the hospital.

"Come on, boy." He said and he could swear the dog rolled his eyes. Maybe there was a human stuck in there.

The dog followed Stiles to his car, hopping in when he opened the passenger side door.

Stiles got in and drove the two back to his house. It was barely sprinkling by the time he got there and he was thankful his dad wasn't home.

Stiles turned to the dog, studying it for a while, "Well, if I'm gonna keep you, I should probably give you a name until I can figure out a way to help you." The dog's eyes narrowed just slightly, "What? Do you just want me to call you dog?" The dog huffed, "Alright, Derek." If it was possible, the dog did a double take. He'd meant it as a joke, but judging by the strangely human reaction the dog had towards that name… "Derek?"

The dog – Derek? – pressed down on the door lever and escaped the Jeep, running for the woods.

Still reeling from what he thought had just happened, Stiles jumped out of his Jeep and started towards the forest line.

Before he could get there, Derek came walking out, dressed in a dirty t-shirt and jeans. Stiles stood there, jaw agape.

"Let me explain." He said, holding his hands up towards him, eyes glowing blue.

"What… the… fuck…"