A.N. Sorry it's short but I will be updating more often and, as always, I don't own Teen Wolf or any of it's characters!


It only took two days for the next call from Melissa, summoning them out into her car again like a soccer mom gathering her little ducklings. And, in the grand scheme of things, two days wasn't very long. It had been much longer when Melissa first came for him, and he didn't doubt that it would be even longer than that once Stiles healed more. But it still felt like forever.

The Sheriff let them stay, under Melissa's watchful gaze, for the afternoon and he let Stiles invite them over more often-but always during the day, and never for more than a couple hours. It helped, indefinitely, but… it wasn't enough. Parrish hated to think it, let alone say it, but it wasn't enough. Every time the Sheriff elbowed them out of the house, he and Derek would hesitate on that ice cold porch in the fading light a little bit longer. Their eyes never met, but it didn't matter. No matter how much either of them wanted to say or do something about their situation, they both eventually just parted ways and retreated back their own empty apartments.

Sometimes, Parrish drank. Never that much, of course, but even a little was exponentially more than his usual sobriety. It relaxed him for a little while, enough to watch a movie or doze off, but when it wore off everything was a hundred times worse. Sometimes it was worth it, sometimes not. The nightmares came to life in his haze, and his whole body trembled and spasmed like some kind of fit. Usually, he threw up-or at least he tried to, even if he hadn't eaten anything in days. His body still heaved and lurched for hours, no matter what he did.

He hadn't been drinking that night… Or had he? He remembered drinking when it was still light out, enough to put him out of his misery for a few hours, and he remembered passing out. But, by that point, he'd either thrown it all up or used up whatever effect the alcohol was going to have. Now, he just felt weak. Every little noise thwacked in his chest like thunder, even though he didn't have the energy to flinch at it anymore. He was so jumpy it was damn near ridiculous.

Fuc-! What the! His mouth let out the scream before his mind even registered the sound but the knock at his door was enough stimulus, apparently, to get him off the couch. He stumbled and lurched like a drunkard but he made it to the door.

"Who-" He gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Is it?"

"It's me." Instantly, he knew the voice. It was low and breathy and desperate just like his own but it was deeper and more gruff, more… manly. He shouldn't have been thinking about- ah, what the hell. He was delirious, anyways, right? His hand gripped the cold metal of the knob and twisted, his mind still trying to think or not think about how strong and how powerful Derek was.

But Derek was. He looked like shit and the bags under his eyes might as well have been gucci but he was strong. Every inch of the man-wolf, whatever-just exuded power and strength, both of himself and of others. It made him even more irresistible. Parrish could imagine just stepping forward, falling into those muscled arms, and feeling them cinch and catch him. Was it so bad to want to be caught?

"Not sleeping." It wasn't a question but Parrish nodded and then, suddenly, he didn't have to take that step forward because Derek did. He didn't have to collapse to the ground because Derek wrapped him in his arms and held him steady. His mouth opened, trying to explain but…

"It's okay… I- I know… I know." Parrish tried to breathe, but his lungs just filled with the scent of Derek. "I can't… drive- Like this." But he just nodded, because he understood. Derek's hands shook against his lower back and Derek's breath trembled out against the hollow of his throat and he understood. He hugged and clung to Derek so tightly… Maybe he thought it would put them both back together a little bit.

But it didn't matter. A hug couldn't fix them and neither could lying awake staring at the ceiling for hours at a time. With his arms around Derek's shoulders, it only took a little nudge to drag them both backwards into the apartment and down onto the couch. Derek threw a pillow at the door, closing it, and Parrish pulled a blanket over them.

The alpha-god he loved how that sounded… the alpha-had been through more in that moment, though. Even if Parrish didn't have much energy or sense, he knew that. The drive over must have been hell and trying to figure out where he lived must have been even harder on no sleep… Just thinking about it was exhausting. So he tried to do what he could. He shifted them on the couch to pull Derek's arms out from under them so they wouldn't go numb. He pulled Derek to one side, and then halfway on top of him. He rubbed small circles between the alpha's shoulder blades, feeling the muscle relax beneath the thin layer of cloth. And, when he was ninety nine percent sure that Derek was asleep, he tangled his hand in the man's brown locks, gently… but then a little less gently. Until he was tugging at the strands, scratching lightly down to the base of Derek's skull. Derek moaned.

It was enough to make him stop. But Derek whined and nuzzled closer, against his stomach and then against his chest. Parrish couldn't help himself… He kept going, playing with Derek's hair and rubbing his back until he felt the man relax against him and lose a bit of his desperation. Really, that's all Derek was… A man. He may have been the alpha, and he may have been a werewolf, but the person huddled against his chest was just that: a person. A person who was hurt, and scared.

A person.

Just like him.


Thanks for reading! I promise I'll either make the next update longer, or sooner. As always, please review, follow, favorite, and so on!