When I got home Derek still wasn't in the bed. My mind was torn two different ways. One side wanted to go and beg him to return to bed, to me. The other side was determined to go to bed and prove that this changed nothing. I decided on the latter, though my mind seemed to still fight back and forth into the later hours of the night.

Waking up without my warm werewolf with me was weird. There was just something missing in the large bed. I wandered down into the kitchen and Derek was nowhere to be found. I sighed and started making coffee. You don't seem to realize how important a person is until they are removed from your daily activities.

The coffee finished fairly quickly and I grabbed a cup before I plopped down into one of the bar stools. I was caught off guard when Derek walked in from outside.

He stopped in front of me, meeting my gaze head on as he placed his palms flat on the counter. "What else are you lying about?"

I stared at him blankly for a few seconds before I could gather my thoughts together. "What?"

"You've been doing this for weeks, running out in the middle of the night to commit crimes yet you've seem to forget to mention this to me. So my question is, is there anything else you're not telling me?"

I leaned forward, looking him straight in the eye. "No there's not. Derek I had to do this...and I knew that if I told you what I was doing you...you wouldn't allow it."

"So it seemed like a good idea to just do it anyway?"

I sighed, running my hand through my hair before I spoke. "Derek we've already already discussed this," I mumbled and stood up from the bar.

"No. I tried discussing it with you and you shut me down," he stated, the end tapering off into a growl.

"Yes...and this is me shutting you down again," I couldn't help the raise in my voice. I couldn't help how fast I got out of that kitchen. Whether Derek liked it or not I was going to do this.

Derek wasn't the only person who seemed to disagree with my tactics, the cops were searching endlessly for the black wolf. I couldn't count how many times I had heard police sirens in the distance as I finished my runs. I was very careful though, timing everything perfectly.

This run was no different. I held my bat in my hands carefully, stepping over the destruction I had just made of this woman's house. It was a huge house, many of opportunities to get the point across. I don't know if I got caught up in the destruction or I just became to confident in my time managing skills, but I had stayed way longer than expected. I was rounding the corner into the kitchen when I heard the front door click open.

I stilled and switched plans, deciding to take the back door to avoid confrontation with the owner of the house. I kept my movements light, my feet barely touching the wood as I snuck towards the glass door. I could see the panes of it letting in moonlight, I was so close. I reached out my hand. That's when I heard it, the sound of a pistol being cocked. I froze, my hands naturally rising in the air.

"Move and I shoot."

I would never mistake that voice for someone else's. I don't know which was worse: the fact that I had a gun pointed at me or the fact that my father had just caught me red handed.

"Turn around slowly."

I obeyed, keeping my hands high in the air as I turned to face my father.

He held the pistol in a death grip, his eyes dangerous and focused. I had seen him like this before, but never aimed at me. He looked way more terrifying from this end of the barrel.

"Please don't shoot," I pleaded, my eyes connecting with his through the holes of the mask.

His expression faltered, his brows knitting together as his eyes looked me over. He stepped forward, his gun lowering. When he neared me his hands found my mask and gently pulled the metal off my face. "Stiles?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Hey dad."

"You've got to be kidding me," He sighed. "Stiles what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Um just house sitting for an old friend," I supplied with a smirk.

"Yeah because lying is going to help in this situation. You know what I don't have the patience to arrest my own son tonight so you need to get as far away from here as possible. If I see you doing this again Stiles I'm going to have to take action, got it?" he stated.

I nodded quickly and grabbed the mask from his hands. "Got it dad,' I mumbled and backed out the door behind me.

I should've listened to my father. I really should've thrown away my equipment and called it quits. Of course I didn't though, I don't have enough common sense for that.

I was going to help the weres and if no one was going to help me then I was content doing it on my own. That was easier said than done. Derek continued to distance himself from me. He made a permanent room in the guest room. It felt wrong. It felt like before, when he hated me. When he couldn't stand me and I hated every second of it. Was it worth changing things if Derek wouldn't even talk to me? My movements became mechanical. The swing of the bat, the sound of red spray paint, was nothing to me. For some werewolves it was everything. A beacon of hope in the darkness that is their life. That's what kept me going and pushing forward.

The nights were bed always felt empty and cold. It never felt right. For the fifth night in a row I was tossing and turning. I couldn't get comfortable and I knew a different position wouldn't help that. It was that I was missing someone there with me.

I was about to give up on sleep when I heard the door open slowly. I opened my eyes to see Derek standing in the doorway.

He hesitated for a brief second before he made his way over to the bed. He slid in front of me, his face inches from mine. "Stiles?"

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking about it and...you're right," He mumbled slowly, his eyes dropping for a few seconds.

"About what?"

"About this being a lot bigger than you and me. We might not be able to save everyone, but we can try...I want to help Stiles," he stated and found my hand and entwined his fingers with mine.

I smiled. "Really?"

He smiled at me before he pulled me into an embrace. "Really."