Author's notes: This chapter shows how the pack (some of them) spent their last day before the full moon. Complete fluffiness, just because this story needs some of that. For this chapter I decided to choose a theme song I thought fit it. I know I've gone off the deep end, but enjoy and look up the song.

All That I'm Asking For- Life House

Jackson was definitely up to something. He'd sent her the cryptic text message, telling her a specific location and nothing else. Lydia had almost called to chew him out, but her curiosity won out. Now she stood under the glaring sun on a secluded villa in the botanic gardens, waiting for him. He hadn't picked a bad place to do whatever he was going to do. The walkway was made of polished marble; hand crafted wooden benches lined the walk way every few meters; minute black fences lined the actual garden itself, but even they had dark green vines curling around them; white, wooden arches rose above her head; the canopy above filtered the sun's light, casting hues of green on the flowers. The sweet aroma of fresh blossoms wafted up her nostrils, singing to her senses. Whatever he was up to, he was doing his best to please her.

She lay down across one of the benches, slightly bending her legs so as not to expose herself. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Derek had told them all to relax that day, to enjoy a little down time before that night. Peter had been adamant about her continuing her normal routine, but Lydia was just tired. She was tired of the madness, of the constant fear of being hunted. Today was going to be about her and Jackson, nothing else. To assure them she'd meant it, she'd texted them all after receiving Jackson's text, then took out her battery. They could handle things without her couldn't they?

Her nose twitched and she sat up giddily, her imaginary tail wagging. Jackson stood under the last arch, wearing the black suit she'd bought him with the red tie. His hair was gelled back, accenting his cheekbones beautifully. His eyes seemed darker than usual, but sparkled in the way they only did for her. Flower petals were falling behind him, the sun's rays slanting at just the right angle to capture his perfect features. He took a step toward her, his teeth gleaming in the light. Lydia swallowed loudly; he was definitely up to something…and she was not complaining.

Jackson met her in the middle, his arm slipping around her waist, lightly pulling her against him. He pressed his lips softly against her lips, before placing smaller ones along her neck and jaw. Lydia couldn't help but sigh into his touch. He was never this gentle, but then again neither was she. She inhaled deeply, drinking in his scent and unconsciously thanking Peter for giving her that particular sense. It was making her head spin, her body going crazy.

With much difficulty, she pulled away, meeting his eyes determinedly. "Jackson what's this all about?" She couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her lips. He didn't say anything, just swayed in place with her, clinging in ways he'd never done before. His face was buried in her neck, nuzzling the soft flesh. She purred softly, enjoying the sensation. He was scenting her; she knew that from the way her scent mingled with his to create a unique aroma. She leaned her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They continued to sway in the spot, his hands running through her hair.

He stopped and stepped out of her embrace, but keeping their hands intertwined. "You're beautiful Lydia." He said in that husky voice he used whenever his emotions choked him up. Her skin flushed and she looked away. "I never did apologize for how I treated you before. I -"

Lydia pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't, just don't. I forgave you a long time ago Jackson, so let's move on from that." She slowly removed her finger and leaned in for another kiss, but he held her away. She couldn't help the spike in her heart, the fear pooling in her stomach. He wasn't breaking up with her was he? Not after everything they'd been through, after everything he'd said?

His eyes widened at the sudden change in emotions. "Oh! No, Lydia it's not what you think. I would never hurt you like that." He quickly bundled her against his body. She relaxed in his arms, but looked up at him curiously.

"Then what's going on? You said it was something important…" she let the sentence hang, waiting for him to say anything. He grinned and ran a hand nervously through his hair. He never did that, unless it was something that'd really piss her off.

"After…after I became a werewolf and Derek explained to me why I became a kanima in the first place, I decided to find out exactly who I was. The kanima is a creature that doesn't have a place, or a past. I- I did some digging about my adoption…" He ducked his head and took a steadying breath. Lydia gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth.

"You found your real parents? Congratulations! I'm so proud of you Jackson. But…why aren't you…?" She mulled it over in her head and felt the light bulb click. She dropped his arms and steeped away from him, anger clawing in her chest. "You're leaving. You're packing up and running off to meet them." She stamped her foot and turned away, feeling her eyes sting with tears.

"Yes, I'm leaving Lydia. But that's not what this is about. This is about us." He reached for her; she shrugged his hand off.

"Don't lie to me anymore. This is not about us Jackson. You know better than I do that this is not about whether or not you love me. I know you do. What I don't understand is why you'd do this. What if they want you to stay? W-will you stay with them?" Her hands were balled into fists, claws sinking into her palms. She tried concentrating on controlling the heat, but her mind was clouded with hurt and rejection.

Strong hands clenched her upper arms. She snarled viciously, her canines ripping through her gums. Jackson's mouth smashed against hers, working furiously to swallow her anger, which was now dissolving into sobs. She couldn't lose him, not when she just got him back. Whatever she may have said or done he was hers and no one else's. She crushed him with her arms, her nails digging into his shoulders. He winced but didn't growl.

"Lydia Martin, you're too smart for your own good. Yes, I'm leaving, but I'm coming back. I just need to know why they gave me away, what I left behind. I need to know, not just for me, but for us. I-I love you more than anything in this world Lydia. I brought you here because you are the only thing I stand to lose tonight, the only thing I'd die to protect."

"Then why am I here? Couldn't you have said this over the phone?" She couldn't stop the tear flow.

At this he laughed. "It wouldn't have been as romantic." She looked at him, bewildered. He held her stand as he sunk onto the marble ground, his eyes large and vulnerable. Lydia's heart stopped in her chest. She watched in astonishment as he pulled out a velvet box, covered in yellow ribbons. Her breath hitched, her world swaying. Surely he wasn't-.

"Like I said you are the most important thing to me. I don't want to ever see you with anyone else, not now, not ever. I know we're young; I know your feelings for me might change. All I'm asking Lydia is if you'll wait for me. Wait until I come back to you. Can you do this? Will you wait for me?" He untied the ribbon and opened the box. The ring was silver with gold bands winding around the base. The central diamond was surrounded by blue sapphires; the smaller ones by green emeralds. She examined it closer, almost dropping it in shock. Carved into the diamonds were the exact date they'd met, gotten together, and were both officially in the pack. There was an inscription in neat little scrawl: my love- never forgets.

Lydia was shaking as he slipped the ring onto her finger. Jackson stood and looked deeply into her eyes. "Say it Lydia. Say you'll wait for me."

Somehow, through the madness that was in her head she found her voice. "I'll wait until I die."

The cemetery was empty, save a few stragglers here and there. There was something strangely peaceful about being there among the dead, the souls at rest. Fresh flowers and decoration dotted the worn gravestones. Massive white clouds rolled across the sky, periodically casting the area in shadows and a light breeze.

The boy crouched in front of a fresher headstone, fingers tracing the letters. His face was darkened, eyes moist and downcast, lips pursed. He ignored the people milling around, the curious on lookers. They knew who he was, who he used to be anyway. They knew whose grave this was, what the man had done for years. He didn't care what they may have thought, nor did he particularly want to know. He had known his father before the abuse had started, before things had changed. Isaac sighed, wishing more than anything that his father was still alive.

Unlike the others, he didn't have anyone else to lose if this turned south. The pack had become his only family, the only people who cared what happened to him. He hadn't expected to allow anyone else into his life after his brother had passed away and his father became a monster. People asked why he had scars, why he sometimes had an unnatural limp or bruise. He played it off easily, because no one cared enough to dig deeper. He really loved his father and deep down he knew the man felt the same; he couldn't give the man up, couldn't lose him. But Derek had sought him out specifically, had rescued him from the torment. It had seemed too good to be true that anyone would come to his defense, would risk it all to save him. Then the pack had welcomed him into the fold without question; Scott had even mentored him from the beginning. They were his family, his friends; they were all he had left.

Isaac pushed from the ground, stretching his hands high above his head. His muscles loosened and popped. He shoved his hands in his pocket and walked away from the grave, swallowing down his longing for the past; the past didn't guarantee happiness. He kept his head down, ignoring the other mourners around him, not wanting to draw attention to himself or really converse with anyone. His sensitive ears picked up a few conversations, but otherwise the cemetery was mute. These people who longed for the dead to return had no idea what they were really asking for, or what it could bring.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts he didn't hear or see the bike in time. The front wheel slammed into his side, catching him off balance and sending him crashing to the ground. The backend spun and tipped the bike over onto its side, trapping the rider beneath. He winced as he assessed the cut on his shin and gaping hole in his jeans. Now he had to get out of there before anyone noticed his skin healing. He scrambled to his feet, but stopped, eyes on the stranger. She sat there rubbing her auburn hair and glaring up at him with hazel eyes. She was definitely pretty, prettier than Lydia even (though he'd never admit that; the chick was scary). Her hair fell to her shoulders in gently curled layers; her caramel colored skin was flawless, except for a tiny mole below her right eye; she had long lashes that swept over her cheekbones when she blinked; she was about his height, but curvy. He felt a lump form in his throat and his chest tightening. His palms moistened, throat suddenly becoming dry. Girls were dangerous.

She stood, fixing him with an icy glare. "Do you mind watching where you're going next time? That actually hurt."

He was startled by how threatening she sounded even with a soft voice. It reminded him of the wind chimes his mother used to have outside the house and how when the wind blew he'd sit outside and listen to them twinkle in awe. This was the same thing. "I-I'm sorry. I'm Isaac by the way." He extended his hand to her, biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

She narrowed her eyes at it suspiciously, but grasped it all the same. She had a firm handshake and an unwavering gaze. He was captivated. "Nice to run into you I guess. I'm Iris." Her frosty features melted into a glowing smile. She had dimples in both her cheeks that softened her face. His heart skipped a beat, his breathing quickening. This girl had to be the most beautiful girl in town. He inhaled gently, capturing her scent. She smelled of honey, cinnamon, and magnolias; it took him back to when his mother baked during Christmas and imported fresh flowers for Easter.

Iris giggled and bashfully pulled her hand from his. She allowed her fingertips to linger against his for a moment, but eventually dropped her hand to her side. Her cheeks had reddened a tad. "Ummm… yeah I guess I kind of over reacted a second ago."

"No, no, it's okay. I was a little too oblivious for my own good." He said hurriedly, hoping to draw the conversation along. Isaac felt the attraction to her, felt her curiosity about him; but she was guarded, playing it safe.

They were quiet for a minute, awkwardly looking about them. He wasn't sure what he wanted, but Iris had a grip on him already. If he could really get to talk to her…but he wasn't bold like Jackson to ask. He'd never been the ladies man, never had an actual girlfriend. To be honest he'd been fearful of the opposite sex, appreciating from a distance, but never approaching. Iris seemed different though. She scared him, but in a healthier way. He was afraid for her, which was strange considering they'd just met. She was a mystery, not putting her cards on the table and forcing him to stay on his toes. He enjoyed the sensation, but was also weary of it. He couldn't even gauze her emotions correctly, his own interfering. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead; he nonchalantly brushed them off.

"So I… I guess I should go then. See you around Isaac." She offered another dimpled grin, before picking up her bike. His wolf panicked at the sudden dismissal. He wasn't ready for her to leave yet, wasn't quite ready to say goodbye.

"Wait! Uh, how about we go get lunch sometime or see a movie?" he blushed, voice faltering under her intense scrutiny. Her eyebrows raised just a little closer to her hairline, but the smile remained fixated on her face.

"Sure thing; I live next door to Stiles Stilinski, just drop by and visit." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and pedaled away. Isaac waited until her heartbeat faded in the distance. His own heart fluttered in his chest, suddenly feeling warm. He just made a date with a girl completely out of his league. And she was perfect in every way. He briefly wondered if this was how Scott felt about Allison when they'd first met. If so…he had a lot more to lose than he'd thought.

Allison was certain that this was karma's way of getting her back for all that she'd done since moving to Beacon Hills. Her leg was on fire, wrapped in a heavy neon green cast-her choice- and her wrist was in a brace. She had bandages on her face, chest, and arms, though those would be off soon. Morphine dripped into her arm through the IV they had set up beside her bed, her heart monitor beeping steadily. It was hard to believe that she'd almost died, even though she'd subconsciously accepted that she would. She hadn't expected to beat the alpha at all, had expected her to finish the job and leave her for dead.

She traced her thumb over Scott's hand, watching him sleep. He had come overnight and had sat beside her ever since, watching diligently. It had gotten dicey when her father demanded only family be allowed in her room, but she'd shouted him down until he consented. She hadn't seen him since, and that was four days ago. Chris had to realize she wasn't a little girl anymore and therefore he could not get away with treating her like a child. She loved him to death, but the man was insufferable and prejudice. He still viewed the pack as evil creatures that would turn rabid and kill her one day. They had come to her rescue, had even exposed themselves to the sheriffs in order to protect her better. How could he look at them as monsters? They were human beings, gifted in supernatural ways, but still human. Did he expect her to turn them away?

Scott shifted positions, mumbling her name contentedly when he was comfortable. Allison marveled at how lucky she was to have him. He lay curled against her body protectively, but he himself looked as innocent as a child in sleep. You would never imagine he had risked his life numerous times, had battled horrors only told in stories. When he was awake he was always on edge, watching, waiting for an attack that never necessarily came. But in sleep you saw the boy beneath his man exterior. He looked like a puppy, so loveable and gentle.

She absently ran a hand through his hair, remembering when she'd first realized she loved him. It was that night in the school when Peter had trapped them all. He'd locked them in that classroom in order to keep the deranged alpha away. She'd watched him walk out of that room and saw her life walking away. It scared her more than anything to be in that situation when she was powerless to hold on to the person her life revolved around. So she'd broken up with him, hoping that would erase the feeling of being welded into the boy. The agony Scott had experienced was nothing compared to hers. Her insides were ripping apart trying to piece her heart back together. Every night she woke screaming from nightmares she played off as fear from that night, but it was a lie. In every dream she'd watched him walk away and no matter how much she pleaded for him to stay he locked her in that room and left her crumbling and bleeding. She'd even tried flirting with Jackson in hopes of pushing the emotions away, but if anything it made things worse. She found herself questioning his motives, not like she'd done with Scott; found herself looking into his green eyes and suddenly seeing Scotts milk chocolate ones; compared the way he hugged or talked to her against Scott's gentle kisses or reassuring words. It was after all of this she'd finally understood that she was in love.

Allison was no fool. She knew in her heart when she had crossed an invisible line, knew when she'd fallen so far there was no return. But with him…there was no limit. She continually ran him through, but he waited patiently for her to come back to her senses and was never bitter for it. It's as if he honestly couldn't dismiss a person from his life. He'd even accepted Peter, despite the hell he'd put them through. Scott truly was an honest, good hearted person. Was he a saint? Certainly not; he had done his fair share of bad deeds, but they had all been an effort to keep the ones he loved safe. She was lucky to have him all to herself. She was grateful he cared so much, for if he had walked away the last time and ended up with another girl…she would have succumbed to the pain killing her and die.

She bent forward and kissed his forehead. He purred in his sleep, snuggling closer. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" she whispered fondly.

Stiles was certain that things couldn't be better than they were at that moment. It wasn't everyday he got to lay with a hot alpha werewolf pinning him beneath his body. Had anyone told him a year ago that he'd be the mate of a werewolf he would have died laughing. Had they told him said alpha would be Derek-freaking hot-Hale he would have asked for whatever they were on. He'd never imagined in a million years he'd be attracted to a guy; sure he was persistent in trying to get Danny to admit he was attractive to gay guys, and yeah, maybe he offered to make out with Scott on occasion, but that had been harmless. He'd pined after Lydia for so long he couldn't fathom finding guys attractive, but then he'd met Derek. It wasn't his looks that captured his attention, though that did play a major part. It was the look in his eyes, the way he tried to hide the smoldering fire burning within his soul. Stiles had been drawn to it like a magnet, reading the brooding wolf while he'd done his best to keep it hidden. That wall was impenetrable with everyone else, but Stiles saw the chinks when they were alone, saw the real person under the surface. It was that man that Stiles had fallen for, that man was his.

He stared into the hazel eyes above him. They were watching him; clouded with an emotion he couldn't identify. It made his body flush with heat, his chest swelling. Would he ever get used to having Derek touch him? Probably not, every time their skin touched electric currents ran rampantly through his body. It was as if the wolf had some kind of control over him; he would argue with him all day, but otherwise he submitted to Derek's will. Had it been anyone else that would not have gone on very long; he was too free spirited and thick headed to be under someone else's thumb forever. But Derek was different; he just knew how to get his way.

Derek pressed their foreheads together, his hands cupping his face. Stiles swallowed, feeling the man's body pressing all too close against his. He silently prayed that he wouldn't notice the bulge forming in his pants, or the heat creeping into his face. His teenage hormones weren't helping the situation at all, as the man's mouth gently caressed his. He opened his mouth, inviting him in. Their tongues battled; his arms tight around Derek's shoulders. The man released his face and ran his hands down his body, stopping just at his hips and squeezing lightly. Stiles couldn't help the little moan that reached his lips. He pulled him tighter against him, until the wolf's weight was practically crushing him.

They had never gone farther than intense make out sessions, Derek adamant about protecting his virtue at all costs. Stiles was rather miffed that he was being the responsible one, considering that Stiles was currently a human member in a wolf pack. The man said it would be too dangerous for him until he had better control over his wolf; apparently he wasn't as stable around him. Yet despite his over protective instincts, the alpha had brought him to a reserved hotel just outside of the town so they could be alone. That screamed opportunity in Stiles' head.

They continued to kiss passionately, until Derek pulled back, breathing heavily and chuckling softly. "Stiles calm down. I know exactly what you're trying to do."

Stiles feigned innocence, smirking. "I have no idea what you are talking about. I'm just making out with my boyfriend."

"Yeah, your boyfriend who has made it clear that we are not having sex until you turn eighteen." He deadpanned. He raised an eyebrow as if daring Stiles to contradict him. Stiles sputtered for a moment, trying to find a way to wiggle out of the situation.

"Technically, I am a man, because part of my family is Jewish and they become men at thirteen sooo…..yeah I don't see the problem."

Derek rolled his eyes. "The problem is that a) your father is the sheriff and will therefore kill me, b) I'm an alpha werewolf who isn't as capable of controlling himself as you may think, and c) I don't want to claim you in that way until these alphas are gone."

"Ha! I knew you were scared of my dad. But dude seriously, why bring me out here if we weren't going to…" he let the sentence trail off, seeing the strange expression on Derek's face.

"I'm only doing it to keep you safe Stiles. I could really hurt you in the process. I could bite you accidently and then what? Besides, you're still young. In a year or so you'll be heading off to college and who knows what's going to happen."

Stiles felt his jaw drop. This had little to do with his father than it did that Derek was scared to be in a relationship. He was afraid that he would hurt Stiles or that Stiles would hurt him as Kate had done. It shouldn't have been that much of a shock, considering he had blamed himself for years, never telling a single soul his participation in the Hale fire. He was insecure, thinking that Stiles would move on, thinking that this was just a silly teenage crush that would fade over time. He furrowed his eyebrows and slapped him upside the head. "You really are a clueless bastard aren't you?"

Derek said nothing; just closed his eyes and looked away. Stiles ignored the hurt; Derek was still in pain, in doubt of his own feelings. That wasn't something that could be changed in a few short months. He tried a subtler approach. "Derek, I'm not Kate Argent. I would never hurt you or the pack. You guys are my family; you all mean more than anything else to me. Do you really believe that I or any of the others would leave you when we got the chance? We wouldn't because we are a family and need each other. Please stop blaming yourself for something that was out of your control."

He kissed Derek's cheek, no longer thinking about his fantasies and focusing instead on what was needed. Derek turned smoldering red eyes on him. He whined softly through his teeth, the sound breaking his heart. "Stiles…" then his lips were devouring Stiles with such intensity he lost his breath. Derek buried his head in his neck, nibbling along his skin. He growled deep in his chest, Stiles clinging on to him. The man's body was pressed so tightly against him he couldn't think straight. The wolf was so far gone; his hands sliding up his shirt, the warm hands pressed against his chest. Stiles mind was seriously frying, but he had to stop this before it went too far. Derek wasn't thinking clearly; and Stiles did not want his first time to be like this.

"Derek, stop. This isn't the time. Not when you're hurting." He gasped. Derek pulled back, looking at him quizzically. "But I thought…"

He shook his head. "It's not just about me. I'm not having sex with you if you don't trust yourself. I can wait dude, I have for about sixteen years now."

They looked at each other, Stiles trying to control his heart beat, Derek trying to reign in the inner wolf. Things weren't going to be easy, not yet at least. They would make it work though, of that he was certain. He was determined to make the wolf see that they all loved each other in weird ways, that they were family. If their relationship was going to go anywhere Derek had to let go of the past. Finally, Derek rolled off of him, but hugged him to his side. " You mean so much to me Stiles."