A/n: This is a multi POV chapter.

Discovery

Derek watched them closely as the pair sat on their bunks, separated only by a set of iron bars. Every now and then, Parrish would lift his eyes to meet Derek's own, acceptance and sadness in their depths. He'd been dropping by every few hours for the past three days. Just on the off chance that the sheriff had somehow managed to get something out of them.

The sound of footsteps and tired groans caught his attention, and he shoved himself off the desk. The door to the cells opened, interrupting their silence, and one of the deputies dragged in an old man with blood spattering his chest, and bruising across his knuckles. Derek stared at him, nose wrinkled at the scent of blood and fury. In the past twenty-four hours the town had spiralled into chaos, as everyone began to panic.

He noticed Parrish and Braedon staring at the man as he was locked away, then Parrish looked over to Derek, a strange look in his eyes that sent a spark of fear through the Alpha. Almost as if the man was warning him of something.

Shaking off the feeling, Derek turned and followed the deputy out into the bullpen, where John was talking to the others. Everyone looked tired and worn down by current events, each sporting shadows beneath their eyes. Derek's nose wrinkled again at the scent of anxiety and sickness, though it was almost impossible to detect over the strong scent of burning rubber that had drifted in from outside. Where many of the town's cars had been firebombed, most likely by bored, possibly scared, teenagers. It had taken hours, and a fair bit of help from the pack, to get some semblance of order.

"Mr Teller said his old deasil truck was stolen overnight." Deputy Travis informed warily, leaning back against the wall, arms folded over his chest. "He suggested it was William and Grace Quincy."

"Yeah, same report from the Maddox farm. Old work truck. Though they have no idea who took it." Deputy Denning added, dropping down with a grunt onto her desk chair and rubbing at her neck. "Though Erik Shepherd's place was silent as the grave."

Derek watched stress tighten the sheriff's shoulders, "Okay. I want a door to door." At the simultaneous groan, John glared at them all. "I want everyone accounted for. Go street by street. No one goes home until every house has been checked." The tiredness was clear in his tone and not a single person present was willing to argue. "Make sure they all know they're will be an 8pm curfew." He added firmly, then turned to head for his office.

Derek waited a few seconds, watching as the deputies all piled around the large map of the town on the wall, and started dividing up the streets. Then he headed for the Sheriff's office, knocking lightly on the door.

His chest ached for John Stilinski. He was already stressed enough without all this madness going on around him. But then, this was his job, putting others before himself. – Just as Stiles did.

"Come in!" Came a choked out sound, and Derek shoved his way inside to find the older man in the middle off chugging down water, his face red and peppered with sweat. "Are you alright, Sir?"

When there was barely a mouthful of water left in the bottle, John lowered it, nodding, "Fine." He reassured. "Just tired." He tugged out his chair and took a seat, slouching lower he rubbed at his eyes, letting out a rough series of coughs.

"Are you sure? You don't look. .."

"I'm perfectly alright Hale. It's just a cold. "

Derek frowned, but ignored it. He was probably right, after all the sheriff hadn't exactly been looking after himself. Something that filled Derek with guilt. He should have been keeping an eye on him for Stiles.

"The pack could have done the head count," Derek said, lowering himself down into the chair opposite the older man. "We probably have a better way of finding out who's in town." He tugged at his ear while wrinkling his nose.

The Sheriff exhaled warily, "They need something to do, to keep them from going crazy too."

Derek gave an understanding nod and stared down at his folded hands, "They're still not talking." He muttered.

"I know." John grunted, leaning forward on his desk, "I had no idea Parrish could be so stubborn. - But then, so was Claudia." He huffed out a sad laugh.

"Stiles too." Derek added with a sorrowful smile.

"Must be a family trait." John said, then winced and dropped his head into his hands.

Ever since Parrish had revealed the truth of Stiles parentage, the Sheriff had been carrying around a near suffocating scent of hurt, anger and guilt. - The guilt was the strongest. It made Derek instincts whine with the need to fix it. To give comfort to a pack member. - And like it or not, willing or not, that was what John Stilinski was, pack. He'd earned the place, much as Stiles had.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me." John announced quietly. With no idea what to say in response, Derek remained silent. He probably wasn't supposed to have heard that in the first place anyway. "If only I'd known."

"You would have treated Stiles better?" Derek heard himself say, wincing when the Sheriff's head snapped up. "I..."

"What exactly has my son told you?"

"Nothing," Derek lied, shaking his head and moving to get to his feet.

"Don't lie to me son, I can see it right there in your eyes. Did he say I was a terrible father?" Before Derek could dispute that, John continued, "Because I was. I've been an awful father. I let Claudia down. I let Stiles down." His voice broke on the confession freely given.

Lowering himself back into the seat, Derek leant heavily forward on his knees, folding his hands in front of him. "Why?"

John frowned, "What?"

"Why were you so bad? - Why did you let him down?" There was a bite to his tone he hadn't intended to be there, "Did it really matter that he wasn't your son?"

"What? He is my son. "

"I meant before. When you thought he was someone elses..."

"Stiles is my son." John snapped angrily, "He's always been my son."

Derek flinched slightly at the furious venom in the man's voice, "Then why?"

John breathed deeply through his nose and shoved his chair back, getting to his feet. Slowly he paced over to the inner office window, parting the blinds to look out at the now empty bullpen. "He's been getting in trouble since the day he could walk." John sighed, "Fights, pranks. Telling it like it was." He turned to face Derek, "Always drawing attention to himself. Claudia was the only one who could handle him. The only one he'd listen to. The only one who could keep him safe? - When she died, I... - I had no idea what to do. I'm just a human. I knew that when they came, just as Claudia always said they would, that I had no chance of protecting him. I couldn't go up against genetically enhanced, fully trained soldiers. So I guess I just tried to pretend none of it was real. But then Stiles began having the seizures, he became stronger and faster. - I was scared."

"Scared?" Derek frowned, "Of Stiles?" A small pulse of anger rippled through him.

John shook his head, "No. Scared for him." He met Derek's gaze, almost pleading with him to understand and absolve him. "I was terrified. Always looking over our shoulders, always waiting for them to come. All I wanted was for Stiles to be normal. – I mean, pretend to be normal. To hide what he was, what he could do, but he never…" He exhaled a long breath. It began to eat away at me, so I worked more, I figured if I was around the office, or out there, I would see them first. – It was hard, the constant stress. – I - I started to drink. Did he tell you that? "

Derek shook his head.

"If I wasn't working, I was drinking," John confessed, "and Stiles was forced to care for himself. - By the time I sorted myself out…" He shrugged, unable to find the words for how fractured his relationship had become with his son. "I guess it's no surprise then that he kept...well, everything from me."

Lowering his gaze, Derek slumped back in his chair. "He was trying to protect you."

"It's not his job to protect me."

"He doesn't see it that wa..." Derek trailed off, turning his head to stare at the office window. Getting to his feet, he marched to the door, yanking it open. John hurriedly stepping up to his side. "Argent?" The pair said with surprise.

The hunter calmly looked between the two men. "Sheriff, we need to talk. - In private." He added, eyes fixed meaningfully on Derek.

Derek couldn't keep the irritation to himself, leading to a soft growl filling the silence, his eyes flashing red at the hunter. "What are you doing back?" He demanded, heightening his stance.

"Sheriff?"

"We've been trying to get hold of you for months, why are you suddenly showing up now?" John asked suspiciously, his arms folded over his chest.

Christopher looked between the two men and raised a brow. "You know?" he exhaled.

John's only reply came in the form of a stiff nod and a hard challenging look. As if daring the hunter to attack Derek.

"Well, that makes this a little easier." Christopher smiled, "I still need to talk to you in private."

Derek let out another low growl, and was surprised when the Sheriff said, "If it's about Stiles, Derek's entitled to hear whatever you have to say."

The room fell silent once more as Argent looked between them again, frowning in slight confusion, "You're not answerable to him simply because he's the Alpha."

Derek narrowed his eyes at the insinuation, "Unlike some people, I don't take over towns."

The jibe hit the right nerve, and Derek felt a small spark of satisfaction when Christopher flinched and the scent of guilt filled the air. The pack had gone through a lot at the hands of the Argents, and he wasn't going to just forgive and forget.

John looked between them curiously, "What's that meant to mean?"

"It's not important anymore." Derek said easily. There was no need for the Sheriff to know just how deeply the Argents had infiltrated Beacon Hills. As far as John knew, Gerald and Victoria Argent were perfectly qualified to take up positions in the school.

No one spoke for a few more seconds until finally, John locked gazes with Christopher Argent, "Do you want to talk or not?"

With a lingering cautious look at Derek, Chris nodded. Exhaling a tired sigh, John turned and led the way into the office. "After you." Derek said, waving for Argent to precede him. Because like hell was he turning his back on the hunter.

Reluctantly, Chris followed after the Sheriff. Once in the office he made for the window, hovering in front of it while Derek closed the door and turned, arms folded as he stood guard in front of it. John strolled casually over to perch on the edge of his desk, mirroring Derek's defensive body language.

"So?" Was all John said, turning untrusting eyes on the hunter.

Christopher slid his hands into the pockets of his jacket and exhaled a long breath. "It's about Stiles. - Scott called me about him being missing, asked me to help."

John shot Derek a confused look, "I thought you said Scott couldn't get hold of him?"

"That's what he told me." Derek seethed, claws biting into the sleeves of his jacket. Chris shuffled on his feet, suddenly discomforted by the sudden tension in the room. "Did you find him?" Derek demanded, taking a small eager step forward.

Argent exhaled a long regretful breath, "I found where he was being held, but by the time I got there…" He shook his head, "The place was on fire."

Derek's stomach plummeted, twisting painfully. Staggering away from the door, he dropped down onto the couch, head in his hands.

"Oh my god." John moaned breathlessly.

"I'm sorry." Argent whispered sincerely, watching the Sheriff with tear filled eyes.

"Are you sure he was there?" John asked desperately.

Chris nodded sadly, "Yes."

Derek shook his head, he couldn't believe it. He didn't believe it. He'd know if Stiles were dead. He'd feel it. "No." He snapped, leaping to his feet. "No."

"Derek." John sighed tearfully, voice breaking around the name.

"No! He'd not dead." Derek practically roared, turning to Chris. Before the man could react, Derek had him pressed against the window, hand around his throat, features shifted in fury. "You're lying."

Argent held his gaze, calmly, "Why? Why would I lie?"

"Because you're one of them." Derek spat, fingers tightening around the hunter's throat. "You're working for them, just like your father and Kate."

Christopher frowned, "Who?"

"Derek, let him go." John ordered, attempting to yank Derek off the hunter. "Derek!"

"He's lying."

"I'm not." Chris wheezed, his face slowly losing its colour. "You know I'm not." He glared up at Derek, "Listen to my heartbeat."

As much as Derek hated it, he couldn't hear any hint of a lie. He let out a gut wrenching roar and tore himself away from the hunter, putting as much distance between them as possible. His heart tearing apart in his chest. He couldn't believe this was happening. Not again.

Ripping open the office door, Derek rushed out, ignoring the Sheriff's calls. He couldn't breathe. He didn't care who saw him as he burst out of the Sheriff's department, features still contorted. Turning in the direction of the woods he ran and ran. Tears burning at his eyes. It was his fault. He should have done more to protect Stiles. Just as he should have protected Paige and his family.

_(8)_

It never got any better waking up from one of his seizures. His body felt as if it had gone through a wood chipper, after being run over by an 18 wheeler. His head was pounding and his body felt so weak he couldn't even open his eyes.

As his brain slowly came back online, he began to register his surroundings. The warmth was the first thing he noticed. A cosy warmth that he usually associated with his grandmother's house. There was also the same scent of burning wood hanging in the air. If it weren't for the quiet voices and the smell of beans, not to mention the uncomfortable bed beneath him, he could almost believe that he was back in that small cottage. – There was also the fact that his grandmother had died three years ago, so nope, definitely not his grandma's house.

After the warmth, scent and voices, Stiles registered a weight against his back, snuggled up close. Smaller than him. Case. Obviously. That explained why he was on the edge of the bed, rolled on his left side.

As the heaviness of exhaustion faded, Stiles tried to force open his eyes. It took a few seconds, but eventually he was able to see blurry shapes and the bright soft glow of the fire.

"Looks like Sleeping Beauty's finally away." Theo huffed out.

When Stiles vision finally cleared, he was able to see that the dick-wod was sat on the floor, back to the wall, sharing a ratty old grey blanket with Malia, and Liam. There he was, smirking his obnoxious grin, between the pair, their heads resting on his shoulder, Liam fast asleep while Malia looked over at Stiles.

If Stiles hadn't been so completely wrecked, he had rolled his eyes harder than anyone has ever rolled their eyes in all of existence.

As it was, he just sighed warily and looked away, seeking out Kira. His gaze found her instantly, her worried face turned to him as she scrambled to her feet, Joshua helping her with a slight push. She'd clearly been snuggling close to him, which for some ridiculous reason, made Stiles happy.

"Stiles? How are you feeling?" She asked, hurrying over to him and crouching down beside the cot.

Exhaling a long breath, he let out a soft groan and forced himself up, careful not to disturb Case, who was indeed sleeping behind him. He looked down at the boy with a soft look.

"He wouldn't sleep anywhere else." Kira said apologetically.

Stiles smiled warmly and shook his head, "Its fine." Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Stiles leant forward, letting his head fall into his hands. "Fuck, my head." He muttered, rubbing at his temples.

"Here." Kira said gently, handing him a glass of water and two pills. "Found them in the med kit under the bed."

Looking up with a grateful smile, Stiles took the painkillers and swallowed them down. "Where's Alec?" he asked, looking around the cabin and finding no sign of the man.

"Patrolling." Malia answered from across the room.

"He dragged your ass back here and sent me and Mal to grab the wood." Theo informed him, clearly disgruntled at having to actually do something.

Stiles inclined his head at Malia, completely ignoring Theo, as usual.

"He said you had a seizure?" Kira asked quietly, kneeling in front of him.

Stiles shrugged, "It happens, sometimes."

Kira nodded, "Me too. Usually when I'm stressed or worked up about something."

It was pretty obvious that Kira, and probably the others, would suffer from the seizures too. They all came from the same fucked up recipe right? However, Stiles couldn't help but feel a little surprised at the announcement. He smiled down at her. "Sucks, right?"

Kira smiled, nodding.

"You eat." Joshua said, thrusting a bowl in Stiles face. "Need to be strong. I go tell Alec you awake."

Despite feeling famished for the past few days, Stiles wasn't all that eager to fill his stomach. He took the bowl anyway with a grateful smile and watched as Joshua marched to the door, his hand brushing over Kira's head as he passed. "How long was I out?" Stiles asked, feeling as if he'd missed something important.

"Just a few hours." Kira smiled. "He's right, you need to eat."

Stiles looked down at the bowl and felt his insides squirm, "Thanks, but I'm just…"

"You need to eat. We can't hide out here forever."

"Yeah. Alec didn't want to stop in the first place." Theo reminded him with a challenging look.

Stiles glared over at the other teen and narrowed his eyes. Theo simply smirked, stretching his arm around Liam, pulling him a little closer. Stiles looked between them for a long minute before shaking his head and focusing on Kira. Whatever was going on with those three, wasn't his problem. All he cared about was getting home to Derek and his pack. Which was why he reached down and lifted the bowl of cold beans and began to force them past his dry chapped lips.

It didn't take him long to empty the bowl, once he'd gotten past the taste of congealed tomato sauce. It was almost as if his stomach suddenly remembered what food was. By the time Kira was taking it to fetch him another, the wooden door was swinging open, filling the warm cabin with a burst of icy cold winter air. Alec marched in alone, his eyes instantly falling on Stiles. Making his way over slowly, he stared down at him. "How are you feeling?"

Stiles looked up and nodded, "Fine. Better."

"Good." Alec said stiffly. "I'm – I'm sorry, for what I – I shouldn't have dropped that bombshell on you like that."

Stiles shrugged, "I asked." Over the past twenty minutes or so, the conversation with Alec had begun to play over in his head. His father wasn't simply the man who raised him, but was his honest to god father. They shared DNA. Stiles couldn't quite figure out how he felt about it. On one hand, there was no reason for his dad to hate him anymore. On the other, Stiles wasn't sure he could just forget everything that had gone on between him and his dad. All the looks and drunken allegations. All the secrets and lies that had passed between them over the years.

Alec stared down at him for a few more seconds before turning to face the whole room. "We're leaving at dawn."

"What?" Stiles snapped, "Come on, man. I've just woken up. I've only had…"

"We're leaving." With that, Alec turned on his heels and marched out of the cabin once more.

Stiles sighed and accepted the fresh warm bowl of beans from Kira. "Thanks."

_(8)_

Derek had felt heartbreak before. He'd felt rage. The way his insides felt as if they were being torn apart, was an old friend. His heart pounding in his ears. His blood racing through his veins at such a speed, it burned. Everything around him was red and deafening.

As he ran through the woods, putting as much distance between himself and Argent as he could, because if he stayed, god, he didn't think he'd be able to control the blaze building up inside him.

What had taken the man so long? Two months he'd had to locate Stiles. Why so long? Was it punishment for what he'd done to Argent's wife? Had he really been too late, or had he stood by and watched the place burn? Just as Kate had done.

He was cursed to lose those he loved to flames.

Running on and on through the dark, Derek allowed his instincts free reign. Ignoring the cry within reminding him that he still had people who loved him, people who depended on him. He didn't care. They were better off without him. Safer.

The sky darkened above him the further into the woods he went. No idea where he was going, and not caring. The dark and cold could have him.

He felt earth shift beneath his feet as a white hot pain shot through his body. Stealing his breath and making his mind implode.

"Not that you were much of an Alpha to begin with. How could you think to lead when you do not even understand your enemies, nor the power that courses through your veins? You are weak, and thus, were never a match for me."

A howl ripped through the air, silencing the chaos in his mind.

_(8)_

The sky was a greyish blue, tainted with dusty pink as they all piled out of the cabin, wrapped up once more in their stolen clothes. Stiles stared sleepily up at the heavy dark clouds with a sense of doom. He'd barely slept, at least not since waking up after his seizure. But that was the thing, despite being unconscious, he'd woken feeling more tired than he had in days.

When he had attempted to get some proper sleep, curled up beside Case, he'd been troubled by dreams. Tormented by both the plane crash, and the murderous chaos he'd left behind in Beacon Hills, with Derek at their center.

He'd woken with a start. A violent shiver passing through his whole body and the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. His ears had continued to ring with the sound of an agonized roar that caused his heart to race uncontrollably, tears rolling down his cheeks.

There had been no getting back to sleep after that. Instead, he'd found himself a space by the window and watched the sky grow lighter with each passing hour. By the time Alec had returned a little before the sun had broken through, Stiles whole body felt like it was once again a lead weight.

Now, he and the others were traipsing through the thick snow, following their self-proclaimed leader. Alec had returned that morning, antsy and eager to leave. – More eager than usual. – He'd hurried them through collecting their things, not that they had much, and then practically marched them at speed out of the cabin. All Alec had said, was they needed to hurry, which filled them all with fear. Stiles had attempted to get answers out of the X5, but Alec, as always, wasn't particually keen on answering them.

They hadn't been walking long before Stiles realise that instead of heading deeper into the woods, they were heading towards civilization.

"Hey, I thought we were meant to be avoiding people."

Alec didn't answer, continuing to march forwards, his weapon clasped in both hands, ready if needed.

"Where are we going?" Stiles demanded loudly, jogging up to the man's side. "Hey, what's going on?"

Finally Alec turned to regard him, cool and composed. "We're taking too long." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Okay." Stiles dragged out, confused. "So?"

"So, we're taking a bus."

Stiles gaped at the man, eyes searching his face, looking for a hint of a joke and seeing nothing. "Are you – serious?"

Alec gave him a sharp nod.

"A bus?"

Rolling his eyes, Alec focused ahead of him. "We won't all fit in a car."

"Right. Of course. Obviously." Stiles muttered, frowning at the man, then looking back to the others. He met Kira's gaze and she shrugged, shifting Case on her back.

"Won't we all be a bit…conspicuous? Especially…?" he jerked his thumb back to Joshua.

Alec rolled his eyes and exhaled. "We're not taking a public bus, moron." He grumbled, obviously frustrated, "I found an old school bus."

"Found?"

The look on Alec face told the truth of the batter. "Oh, you mean you plan to steal a school bus?"

"You have a probably with that?"

Stiles made of show of looking thoughtful, then he grinned, "School bus. Cool. – At least we'll be out of the cold."

A/N: sorry it's been so long, but I've been struggling with this chapter.