Here's 5! SO sorry it took so long to get up; I've had a hectic day. Thanks x

P.s. Swear words in this chapter, just a warning

Chapter 5

It was Saturday night, and Stiles once again found herself sitting in the Jeep with Derek near the gas station. It had been one week since her birthday and Spring Break began, and it was all over tomorrow. Back to school on Monday. Needless to say, she was miserable, not just because she had wasted her nights, but that she had allowed a certain sour wolf to get under her skin. He sat beside her, seemingly unaffected by her damp demeanour. She was desperate for him to say something so she could have it out with him, yet as usual he was silent, a statue. She purposely sat there, her arms crossed firmly over her chest, refusing to look in his direction, and willing her body to seethe with hatred. She knew Derek would smell it. She wanted him to notice it and say something so he could set it off, that way she'd have a reason for yelling at him instead of seeming like a tantrum-throwing girl. Her patience was wearing thin, and her tiredness thickening.

Derek could smell the fumes coming off Stiles. Anger, frustration, and a little bit of sadness. He had upset her last night, but an 18-year-old girl's feelings were the furthest thing from his mind. He wouldn't admit it, yet like Stiles, he was worried. Ever since his great transformation, there had been peace in Beacon Hills. Outsiders were not only scared of him; they respected him. He'd struggled to make the right decisions as a Beta and an Alpha. It wasn't until he became a Beta again, and Scott ascended as a True Alpha, that he really began to rethink is morals. He was inspired by Scott and the memory of his mother – a great leader – to become something better. Then his metamorphosis happened, and he felt like a completely different person. He had the power to be great, like his mother and sister before him. However, his power had been unchallenged since then, as the town was drama-free. If this Omega wolf situation led to something, it would be the first time his new self would be put to the test. He was anxious, though he would never show it, especially not to someone like Stiles.

Therefore, they both sat quietly, Stiles doing her best to omit her discontent, and Derek doing his best to ignore it. Hours ticked by, and Stiles grew more and more uncomfortable. Derek could sense it, she was about to explode. But, to his surprise, she didn't. She actually fell asleep, she'd given up. He stole a glance at her; she had slumped forward, her neck bent awkwardly, and was beginning to tip to the side – his side. Should he move her? She was going to have a horrible pain in the neck when she awoke.

Eventually her head fell to the side and landed on his arm. He let it rest there for a while, not wanting to touch her, but it soon grew uncomfortable and he used a hand to push her head away. Unfortunately, this woke her up.

She jumped, startled, and hit her head on the roof of the car with a loud thud. She cursed.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" she yelled, rubbing her head with one and smacking away Derek's hand that was still beside her body from moving her.

"I was trying to make you more comfortable!" he growled back. This argument was happening, and they weren't holding back.

"Since when do you care when I'm comfortable?!" she retorted, there was a hint of excitement in her voice. She'd been waiting for this all day.

"Since all you do is complain, and I didn't want to hear about your sore neck when you woke up!"

"Well maybe I wouldn't have a sore neck if I didn't have to sleep in my car for the past five nights! This is just ridiculous!" she spat.

"No Stiles, you're ridiculous," Derek's voice was lower now, but was still threatening.

"Then why am I here? You asked for my help, remember? So don't get all superior on me," she grinned, sensing victory. "I love being a part of the pack and helping out, but c'mon, you couldn't expect me – or any normal person for that matter – to not complain when they have to sit in a car each night with your moody-arse."

Derek laughed.

"What's so funny," Stiles demanded warily.

"You honestly think you're part of the pack? Please, that's just an honour Scott has bestowed on you because you're not special like us. You will never understand the supernatural because you will never be it," Derek ridiculed.

"How could you say that? Of course I'm part of the pack," Stiles said, her voice unsteady.

"No, you're just a hyperactive teenage girl who doesn't fit in the normal world, so she immerses herself in a world of craziness so she can blend in. You love the excitement and the chaos, because without it, you're out of place. Humans can never be a part of the supernatural world. You're too weak."

Derek's words cut through her like a blade. He regretted them as soon as they left his mouth, but he let them stale the air and watched as Stiles face dropped from anger to pain to despair. Her muscles tensed up, she wanted nothing more than to hit him, yet as he said, she was weak. She was nothing to him.

Her muscles relaxed and she immediately hopped out of the Jeep. Even though it was her car, she couldn't stand to be near him for another second. She began walking absentmindedly, letting her feet guide her. She couldn't think. There was a cloud in her mind. Surprisingly, she wasn't mad. She was just sad. Derek was right. She had been nothing before the supernatural had entered her life, all she ever had was Scott, and perhaps the reason why she had stayed loyal to Scott was out of her fear that she would be alone. If she had done the smart thing and gone as far away from Beacon Hills as any sane human would, she would have nothing. But Scott and her Dad were her life. She'd already lost her Mom; she didn't want to lose anyone else. Had everything Stiles done not because she was loyal or brave or smart, but because she desperate not to lose her only friend? She didn't want to let the thought that her only redeeming qualities were fake enter her mind.

Hands in her pockets, hood pulled over her head, the thicket grew too dense on her side of the road so she crossed over and continued walking, staring at her Converse shoes and trying to keep her mind from drifting toward the cloud. She was suddenly jolted from her trance when she slammed into something and stumbled backwards. When she looked up, she realized it wasn't something, but someone. Before her were two men, rough looking, in their early twenties. Possibly late teens. She was so conditioned by her father to observe the appearance of the others.

"Sorry," she said. They grinned at her perversely, and her anxiety began to boil. It was the middle of the night and she was alone and defenceless. Her baseball bat was in the Jeep. Shit, she thought. She quickly looked around to gage her surroundings. Relief overcame her when she realized that she was standing on the pavement next to the gas station. She decided to go in and use the payphone and call Scott to pick her up, she would get her car another time.

She threw the two men a polite smile and headed inside the station. As she suspected, they followed her.

It looked like Derek Hale was about to get what he wanted. She hoped that he was close enough to hear or see what was going on; otherwise it would all be for nothing.