The drive to Washington was quiet, for the most part. Stiles insisted I listened to the entirety of his "Road Trip Jams" playlist. Surprisingly, it wasn't terrible. Not my kind of music, but watching him dance was... entertaining. His ability to retain a semblance of serenity during such a stressful time is amazing. But he's good at this. Its what he does.

He takes care of people. He sets himself aside, every time, for the sake of everyone around him. His needs, his desires, his feelings. They always come second. I don't think he's ever put himself first. It makes me feel a little sick. Like it should be the other way around. Like for once in his life, someone should be taking care of him. Tending to his needs. Fulfilling his desires. Nurturing his feelings. But instead, he's here. Sleeping on a shitty couch in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, helping me escape from certain death or torture. Of course he is.

My room is quiet, dark, and cold, but I feel safe here. The bedsheets are stale, there's a suspicious mold growing in the corner of the ceiling, and I'm pretty sure there's mice, but nobody knows where it is, and nobody would suspect us to be here if they caught on that we weren't in Beacon Hills anymore.

Laura and I used to come out here sometimes when life got particularly shitty at home. Back then it was a lot nicer. There were beds of flowers in the front, full of blanket flowers and dahlias. She used to sit out on the porch and watch the butterflies flit across the yard, usually with a cup of coffee in hand or a joint. They had no affect on her, but she still liked to pretend. She'd cook elaborate meals and go on walks, paint and sing and dance. She loved it. It made her feel small. Like she was normal. Like this was her house, and that her life was simple and easy and all she had to worry about was thunder storms and what she wanted for dessert. But none of it was true. It wasn't her life, and reality was hard, and life was difficult. Going home was the hardest part for her. The first few days back she was always nowhere to be found, in the woods somewhere, moping.

Now the house is empty, save for a few pieces of furniture and some basic essentials for when I need to hide out for a little while. I don't come here often. It hurts, and emotions don't do anything but hold you down. The peeling wallpaper and cobwebs are the only decoration around here now. But it works for its purpose, and that's all I need.

"Derek?"

Stiles? He must have woken up at some point while I was daydreaming. Kind of shocking, considering that he drove the full fifteen hours to get here, only stopping to pee and buy beef jerkey. He kept trying to get me to eat some but watching him chew on a single piece for ten minutes was better than having any myself.

I opened the door and peeked out, seeing him standing across the hall.

"Stiles, why are you up?"

"Its cold as hell Derek. I don't have super werewolf toaster genes like you."

He scoffed and shivered a little. His skin was a little pale, and his teeth chattered ever so slightly.

"I left you a blanket."

I started to shut the door, but Stiles spoke up again before I could get it closed.

"Derek I'm gonna die out here. How am I supposed to keep your ass alive if I'm an ice cube frozen to the couch?"

I let out a hard sigh and placed my head against the door. Fuck. What was I supposed to do? Cuddle him into my chest like a little baby? Run my hands up and down his arms to soothe the goose bumps? Absolutely not. Absolutely. Not. That would be... bad. Touching him... having him right there, in my arms... no. No. No.

"Alright, Stiles, listen. Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna come lay on the bed, I'm gonna lay the opposite direction by your feet. If you touch me, I'll fucking kill you. If you ever mention this to anyone, I'll fucking kill you. If you so much as look at me at all, I. Will. Kill you. Got it?"

"Dude, are you serious? You want us to cuddle?"

Yes? NO. No.

"Stay on the couch then."

I started to close the door again but Stiles put his hand on the other side, pushing on it just a little.

"Okay okay, fine. But if my feet stink its not my fault. Fifteen hours is a long time to wear shoes."

I grumbled, letting him in the door. He walked to the side of the bed, throwing the covers back so he could crawl in. I followed, laying with my head to the foot of the bed, trying to distance myself as much as I can. Thank god its a queen.

Silence filled the air, thick and heavy and awkward, but eventually, hushed snores took place. They're slow and peaceful. Soothing almost. I don't remember the last time I slept well enough to snore. Usually it would irritate the shit out of me, and if it were anyone else, I'd be smothering them with a pillow right now, but instead I'm just listening. I can see his arm move up and down silently, rising and falling with each breath. Up. Down. Up. Down. For hours I do this. Is it creepy? Probably. But I can't look away.

Eventually, my own eyes closed. But, as usual, the sleep wasn't as peaceful.

...

"Is there ANY food in this dusty shack? Should I go out and hunt for mice or lizards or something? Maybe start a fire in the middle of the living room so we can barbeque our rodents on a stick?"

Stiles had just barely been awake, already whining. I'm guessing he slept well enough, considering how fucking annoying he was being this morning.

We slept all day yesterday and into the early afternoon today. Its the first time in weeks anyone has felt like they aren't being watched. The game of cops and robbers has finally come to a halt. Temporarily, but its a break, and I'll take it.

"There's peanut butter in the cabinet. I think there's some crackers in there too."

Stiles looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

"Food, Derek. I need food. Real food. A burger. A huge, juicy burger. With greasy french fries and piece of pie. I almost froze to death and now I'm going to starve to death."

He's so dramatic.

"Okay. Listen to me. There are hunters all over the west coast looking for me right now. If we go into town and get a burger, someone could see me, and you, and your juicy burger will be for nothing because they will kill us."

"Well what are we supposed to do then, America's Most Wanted? Hide until we starve, or go to town and at least die with a full stomach? I don't know about you but the second option sounds pretty nice to me."

I sighed, clenching my fists and taking a deep breath. Once again, he was right, and that is really getting on my nerves. Damn him.

"Alright. Fine. You are going to go to town and get some groceries. I'm going to stay here and secure the area. There's some cash in my wallet. Do not use a card for anything, do you understand? If I find out you went anywhere other than to the store, don't come back, because I will kill you."

"Okay, definitely a sourwolf today. Do you want anything specific? Multivitamins... carrots... oh, maybe a rotisserie chicken?"

Stiles held up his hands and flicked his eyebrows up, grinning at me hopefully. I almost smiled back, but that would be far too much of a shock for either of us to handle right now.

"Go. Now. Before I change my mind and let you starve."

"God, okay, fine. I'll be back in an hour. If I'm not then assume I'm captured and run for your wolfy life."

I didn't say anything. Just stared as I watched him walk out the door, get in his Jeep, and drive away. If he did get caught, I wouldn't be running. I'd be hunting.

...

The area around the property was still relatively safe. We're far out enough that people don't usually come by here, and trees surround most of the land. There's a little pond towards the back, and if you catch it at just the right time of the day, the light hits the water and turns it into a pool of jewels. Its my favorite part of this land. I come here a lot when I'm around. Its peaceful. Secret. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who knows about it.

I spend a couple hours setting up traps around the border of the woods. Intruders will be stuck with no help for miles, or I'll get an animal for my dinner plate. Either outcome is good with me. Win win.

The leaves crunch under my feet, and somewhere in the distance, an animal is scuttering away, not loudly enough for a normal ear to hear, but loud enough for me to know where its going. I'm not going to hunt it. There's no use. Stiles will be back soon with groceries. I kind of hope he does get a chicken. I'm starving, but that was lower on my list of priorities than his.

Walking along a path, I hear another noise. Footsteps. Soft. Hushed. Slow.

I stop, making myself very still, honing in on my hearing. They have stopped too. Whatever it is knows I'm here. Its following me.

I turn around quickly, already shifting into the wolf form. My eyes dart around, finding nothing. Spinning around and around, I still can't place it. Its gone. There's nothing there.

I start running at full speed towards the cabin, constantly checking around me to make sure I'm not being followed. Maybe it was a deer, or a bear. But I wasn't sure, and that was dangerous. Not knowing, being caught off guard, that's what gets you killed. You can't defend yourself from a blow you don't see coming.

Stiles. Stiles is going to be home soon. Fuck.

I force my legs to carry me faster, my calves burning all the way up to my thighs. My lungs burn like fire, but I keep going. They can't get to him.

After a few agonizing minutes, the cabin comes in to view. The front door is open, but I don't see anyone inside. What if they're already here? What if someone wanted to wait until we were separated and attack us while we were alone? Stiles is an awkward little human without any coordination or fighting skill in his entire body. He couldn't fight anyone or anything off. Shit shit shit. I knew this was a bad idea.

Coming up to the front of the house, I see the Jeep parked off to the side under some trees. The driver's side door is open.

"STILES!"

I scream as loud as my lungs will let me. I'm out of breath and my entire body is about to collapse.

"STILES!" I scream again, trying my hardest not to pass out.

"STILES, WHERE ARE YOU."

Silence.

I walk through the door slowly, observing the kitchen and living room. There's no groceries. The keys aren't on the counter. My wallet is still gone. There's no sign of him anywhere.

Slowly, I creep through the house, making sure to avoid the rotting floor boards. Still no sign of anyone, or anything, which is good, but still no sign of Stiles.

A small squeek sounds from the corner of the house. There is someone here. They have him.

Slowly, I round the corner, teeth bared. I'm about to fucking rip their throat out. But not before they tell me where he is. I'll kill them. I'll-

"Thank god I got toilet paper while I was there. You didn't have any-"

I whirl around, seeing Stiles standing in the doorway of the bathroom. He sees my face and immediately tenses up.

"Oh shit, did I miss something? Is someone here?"

I let out a deep breath, feeling the rage build up inside me.

"Stiles, what the FUCK. Why is the door to the Jeep open? Where are your keys? What are you doing? Did you even get groceries?"

He stood there for a moment, stunned. I don't think he was expecting to come back to me in full murder mode, ready to attack him and break his neck into a thousand tiny pieces.

"Uh, I... I really had to pee. The groceries are in the car still. I jumped out and ran for the bathroom because... well... I really had to go."

Jesus Christ. All this because he has a weak bladder. I could choke him to death still, for stressing me out so bad and making me think he was kidnapped and we were both about to die.

"I uh... I got a chicken..."

He smiled nervously, dropping his hands to his sides and fiddling with the hem of his flannel.

"Let's just go get the groceries before they freeze."

I barge past him, shoulder checking him on the way out.

Coming to the door, I barge out without checking. A few steps across the yard, I'm almost to the Jeep when I hear them again. The footsteps. There is someone here. There's someone on the goddamn property. There's- a deer. A deer.

I stand there, waiting for the enemy to strike, and am absolutely dumbfounded by the fact that I've been had by an innocent forrest creature. A fucking deer.

It peeks its head out of the brush, still completely unaware that I'm standing there, watching its every move. I want to tackle it and throw it into a tree.

"Aww, how cute. Look at its little nose."

Stiles stands beside me, completely awestruck by the doe yards away now. He steps a bit closer, his foot landing on a twig. The deer's head immediately snaps up, finally noticing us standing here. And just as soon, darts away back into the trees.

It has to be the paranoia, the lack of sleep, the fog Stiles has me under right now. It has to be. I've never been scared of anything. Why now? All of the sudden, I feel it. Bubbling into my chest. Fear.

"So, we should uh... grab those groceries now. Its pretty chilly..."

Stiles gives me a glance and then heads to the Jeep, taking the keys out of the ignition and closing the driver's door. He's got at least a hundred dollars worth of snacks. He seriously eats like a twelve year old.

I grab two fist fulls of bags, headed back for the door. My stomach is growling ferociously. I burnt off a lot of calories during my wild goose chase just moments ago. Food is good. At least one thing is going right. Maybe a nap. Sleeping next to Stiles all night was... not easy. Every time I closed my eyes, I thought about what it would be like if I slept at the head of the bed too.

No. Nope. No.

"I'm eating and taking a nap. You are putting the groceries away and sitting on the couch. Understood? If you move, I will hunt you down and you will be sorry."

"Sir yes sir."

"Good."

With a final stare, I turn and head for the kitchen. Food. Sleep. Exercise. That's what I need. That's what will make things more sufferable. Food. Sleep. Exercise.