Hey guys! I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in what seems like decades. I only hope you can forgive my absence. I found this really cool app that allows me to edit documents from my phone, so my updates will continue as planned.

Chapter Two: Ashes Part One

One of the good things about being with Derek Hale was that Scott's training became more in depth…for me; he would explain things loud enough so I could hear. His gruff and overly violent exterior wavering ever so slightly and I do mean slightly. It disappeared completely whenever everyone was gone. It was during one of these moments when there was a knock on the door of the old Hale house.

"I've got it." Derek whispered before rising and looming sexily over me.

"You thought I would actually move after what you just did to me?"

Derek grunted and walked away, giving me a full view of his bare bum. "Haha, bum."

Derek whipped around and jumped over me. He must have heard me laugh because he drew his jeans quickly onto his body. I heard the creak of the door, then the whoosh of the wind, swiftly followed by silence.

"Derek?"

I pulled on my jeans and hoodie, and slowly made my way to the front room. Derek was standing in the doorway, his head slightly tilted up.

"Derek?"

"Stiles. Get out of here."

"What?"

"Get the fuck out of here!"

Those were my last words to him. "Get the fuck out of here." Stiles has been missing since he left through the basement. That night, I could smell the silver in the air. Hunters had shown up at the house and Stiles, Stiles was in danger. Anyone there would have been in danger.

The battle had been drawn out. They were toying with me, and I was too blinded to see it. I should have run and grabbed Stiles; he'd be at home. He'd be safe.

That dawn, after searching the entire night, I ran to the Sheriff, regret, disappointment, and shame flushing out of my body. Head down and sorrow cast, I gingerly knocked on the door. The Sheriff didn't even know we were together, how could I tell him I had broken an unspoken promise to him that I would protect his only son at all costs?

He opened the door, ready to head out to his patrol car, and spoke.

"Hello Derek. Hey have you seen Stiles? I've been calling all morning and he hasn't picked up."

Those were the words. Those words broke every branch of the tree that held me. I fell to his feet, words escaping me. The terror he would go through; the hatred he would have toward me. He'd never allow Stiles to be with me, never.

Words came in croaks; mere shells of what they should be.

"He's…he's…I…"

"Derek, what happened to my son?"

Stiles groaned as he awoke from his night out in the thick forest behind the Hale house; surprising himself that he hadn't died. The morning sun filtered and danced through the leaves of the looming tree tops above and speckled his form with golden spots.

"Spots," he chuckled, "Note to self and surrounding trees: call Derek Spot."

He rose shakily and started his stumble towards what he was sure was complete opposite direction he should have been going.

"Way to go Stiles, you run away from possibly dying in a nicely remodeled house, to most likely dying in the middle of a field of trees. No, wait, this beyond a field, let's be a little realistic. I wonder how far Narnia is. Oh wait no snow. Do they have spring in Narnia? Maybe I'll meet that that talking lion. Ooh! Who would win in a fight: Derek, or huge talking lion thing?"

"Okay, so we know why we ran, because the big, bad, brooding, buff wolf told us to, but umm, Stiles? Yes, Stiles? Tell me, how are expecting to, oh, I don't know, put and end to fucking being lost? Oh shit, no Adderall…no brain focus… no…wolf…pizza…tornados..."

"Oh, oh, oh" Stiles started jumping, "What did Derek tell Scott about if he ever got lost?"

Stiles shut his eyes and tried to focus.

"Derek. Scott. Lost. Training." He began to repeat the mantra until he forgot what he was doing and sat down and the cold Earth below. His hands gracefully moved underneath leaves and twigs on their own accord. He began to gather them in front of his crossed legs, as well as the grass he unconsciously plucked from its rooted home in the dirt, and moved them, intertwining them with damp dirt.

"Maybe a bird will live in here. Stiles, why would a bird live in a nest made by a human that is literally not in a tree. So glad you asked Stiles, you see, his name is Randolph, and he used to be owned by a human, so he naturally likes the scent. On top of that, he's afraid of heights. He's a bird. I know, but he fell from his cage one day, so he's traumatized. Oh, that makes a lot of sense; you're a genius. Thank you, Stiles. You're welcome, Stiles."

"Damnit, if I were a wolf, I could just wolf my way out of being lost." Stiles' level of excitement grew as he stood hurriedly, accidentally crushing Randolph's new nest. "Crap, I ruined it. Oh wait, no, I'm lost! That's right, I remember, I'm lost! Oh! That's what Derek told Scott! When you get lost, use your wolf senses! Yes! Shit, I'm not a wolf."

He crumbled back down to the dirt and pulled legs in, sighing at his realization that he wasn't going to be able to survive alone. The leaves cringed in front of him, and at his feet he saw two white paws. His gaze and face shifted; from down to up; from despair to fear.

"You're a wolf…and so are the six behind you. You aren't werewolves. Really now? I can't get a break?" He shouted to the filtering sun above. "At least werewolves have a human side you can appeal to…most of the time…okay; not full moons, but you know what I mean!"

There was low growl and Stiles' eyes widened.

"Derek, your eyes." Scott whispered.

"He knows."

"You told the sheriff? Why?"

"Probably because his son is missing!" Derek's hand swung swiftly across the back of Scott's head. "How dumb are you?"

"What got you so pissed? Gum in your fur? I told you not to swallow."

"Scott, it'd be best for Allison's future, as the possible mother of you most likely rock children, if you shut up."

"She's not pregnant."

Derek shot a glare that bore so deep, the word "castration" was branded in a not too friendly place on Scott's anatomy.

They stood at the edge of the forest waiting for the sheriff to arrive so they could begin their epic poem worthy search for the missing teen.

"Can I ask you something?" Scott evenly said above a whisper. Taking the greeting silence as a yes he continued, "Why was he even at your house at midnight? What were you guys doing?"

"I find your skill, or lack there of, with deduction offensive."

"I'm just wondering. I'm worried."

"Not nearly as much as I am." Derek breathed.

"What's that supposed to mean? He's my best friend. How the hell are you more worried than I am? You don't even care about him. Hell you don't even care about me and you train me."

"Don't care? Let's do some math, Scott. I'm worried; went to his father; tried finding him all night; haven't slept since he left; my eyes haven't stop glowing red; brought you along; admitted to needing help; cried; and came to you asking for help. So if we take all of that, multiply by being a werewolf, divide it by the number of times I've stopped myself from hitting you, carry the two, add the number of tears in my clothes, divide that by the missing shoes I haven't bothered to replace, we get find that x equals I love Stiles. And yet again, we're left a remainder of me being offended by lack of deductive skill."

Before Scott could voice the breathy stutter caught in his throat, Sheriff Stilinski pulled up in his patrol car.

"No offense meant boys, but I figured these could help." He brandished two hoodies Derek recognized from Stiles closet.

"Why use dogs when you've got wolves; smart Mr. Stilinski." Scott said as he reached for one of the garments.

Derek starred at the side of Scott's head as his hand claimed the fabric, waiting for Scott to notice. After a minute or Scott turned his head and gave Derek a puzzled look.

"You can figure that out, but nothing else? Does Allison have cancer? I just don't get it. What the hell is she seeing? She's legally blind isn't she? A walking vegetable?"

"Let's get a move on. We can discuss Scott's three brain cells later."

Derek smirked and brought the sweater to his nose, almost losing himself to tears as the scent swam through his system. He forced the pool of strength that held him together on any other occasion and darted into the trees, knowing Scott was but a log behind him. Frantically he searched the air, hoping for the slightest glimpse of Stiles' scent. Then, as if by magic, the wind stirred ever so slightly and he caught it. He veered left and followed his nose, knowing it would be a short time until he was holding that babbling buffoon of his once more. His ears perked at the rapidly increasing sound of rushing water, relatively increasing the deafening pounding of his own heartbeat. He collapsed at the waters edge and released his tears at the loss of the scent, and even worse, the loss of Stiles.

Again, I'm sorry for being absent. I bow to you in submition and unworthy humble mind. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Two down; one to go.