Derek stared out the spider web of fractures as more trees blurred by too fast to separate. His fingertips tapped along the gouge marks in the arm rest inaudibly. He was calm. The ache in every muscle was manageable. Every instinct was screaming against getting further and further from his mate but Derek had to deal with it. It wasn't going to get any better. This was the way things were. It was nearly comforting not having a choice in the matter. Much as he'd had as they drove away, when his wolf had started tearing to the surface.
"Derek, I'm going to knock you out," Peter had said it very simply, one hand resting almost casually on the steering wheel. A growl had ripped out in response and Peter punched Derek's head into the window. It'd have to be replaced. He didn't care.
"We can stop for a bit," Peter offered now, "stretch your legs a bit maybe get some air." Derek shook his head.
"I'd probably make a run for it," he admitted, doubting Peter would hold it against him.
"It's not the end of the world," Peter told him. Derek scowled. Peter was silent a long moment before, "Are you excited to see everyone?" Derek's stomach curled.
"I wouldn't use those words no."
"I think everyone will be pleasantly surprised."
"You say that as if they don't know I'm coming," Derek let out, pads of his fingers pressing the gouges.
"They don't," Peter returned easily. Derek took a breath, tried to take another.
"They don't know I'm coming," he repeated.
"They don't even know I left to find you," Peter told him, looking to him for the first time since the conversation had started.
"But what if they're not ready to see me?" Derek challenged.
"Derek how many times must I tell you no one blames you for Laura's death?" Derek didn't answer, gritting his teeth and trying to quell the rage swelling in his veins. It was quickly misdirecting itself towards Peter. He dragged you away it breathed away from your mate. Away from him and for what? You don't even know if they'll take you back… Derek swallowed around a lump and forced himself to breathe. Peter had hardly dragged him away. He'd been willing to leave; part of him even wanted it.

"We grieved," Peter said, reminding Derek of his presence. "We tried to let you grieve. I told you already we thought you would come back. Derek you are part of us. We love you. We will alwayslove you. You will alwaysbelong with us." Derek shook his head a few times.
"I'm scared," he admitted finally. And it was hard, so hard, to let those two little words out.
"Scared of what?" Derek shrugged minutely.
"Scared they'll be mad, scared they won't be. And I'm scared that leaving him was the wrong decision. Scared that I love him, scared of not loving him." He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that thoughts of Stiles fused so seamlessly with thoughts of his family. They were not entirely separate entities. Peter was quiet again.
"If you want me to take you back I will," he said finally.
"No," Derek denied, almost immediately. "I'm no good for him and he should have a normal life."
"Do you want to stop for the night or keep going?" Peter asked then. Derek was glad he didn't push it, well aware the only reason he didn't was because he was getting what he wanted. But it worked out for everyone. Everyone's best interests. He could tell himself that at least.

Between the two of them they made the drive just over eighteen hours. Derek slept the last leg of it, Peter waking him with a gentle, "Look alive." Derek blinked rapidly, struggling with a yawn as he stretched. His stomach was suddenly twisting and turning in knots. It felt so weird, being back. He could already see the house about two miles in the distance. They were swallowed up by trees and Derek inched his window down, frowning when it groaned in protest. The air here was so sweet. His third favorite smell, maybe fourth. He thought he'd know by the end of the day. "Emily and I live a few miles north," Peter offered conversationally. Derek nodded to show he was listening, inhaling slowly and wishing he could taste the air. His stomach tightened further as Peter began to decelerate, rolling his window down too. The front door opened and Derek's heart seized in his chest as his father stepped out, one hand shading his eyes. His jaw dropped open after another second and he gaped at their continued approach. Derek found himself sitting up straighter, hand moving to the door handle, ready to yank it open. "Let me park the car first," Peter said airily. Derek didn't take his eyes off his father, couldn't really.
"Beth," his father called hoarsely, leaving the door open behind him. Derek imagined that his mother responded but his ears were ringing as Peter finally parked and he shoved the door open, climbing out on stiff legs. They stopped at the same moment, eyes still locked as seconds dragged by.
"What is it?" his mother was questioning, filling the doorway. She was still watching the plate she was drying and Derek's heart was beating so hard it hurt. There still wasn't an answer for her so she glanced up, plate crashing to the porch as her mouth rounded in shock. "Oh my god," she let out.
"Derek," his father exhaled, as if he wasn't sure Derek was really there in front of him. Derek's lips nearly smiled but they couldn't quite manage it.
"Dad." His father closed nearly all the distance between them the next second. Derek stayed as he was, still unsure what his reaction would be. They stood eye to eye now and Derek didn't know what to make of it.
"Son," his father corrected and Derek did smile then, just barely. He was crushed in a hug and Derek sagged into the contact, eyes squeezing shut as he wrapped his arms around his father.

The smell of his father slid neatly into his place as his second favorite smell and Derek buried his face in his father's shoulder breathing in as deeply as he could. He was lifted off his feet for a few short moments and Derek felt all of six years old again. His mom was worming in between them the second his feet were back on the ground.
"Oh god let me see him," she was saying, her voice doing that thick tremble when she was trying not to cry. "Let me see him," she tugged Derek's chin down, eyes shining with tears as they moved over his face again and again. "Oh my god baby you're home," she kissed his cheek hard; wrapping him in a hug so tight she was practically climbing him. Derek 's throat closed over and he didn't even care that at the moment he couldn't breathe.
"Mom," he barely managed on a whisper. She laughed in his ear, giving him a squeeze that threatened to crack some ribs. Derek just squeezed her right back, lighter of course. His father squeezed his shoulder briefly before moving away.
"Peter," he greeted, "it's good to see you too." There was amusement in his voice and Derek smiled as his father and uncle embraced.
"You're so big," his mother exhaled, pulling back to look up at him again. Ridiculously enough Derek felt like blushing at the comment.
"Yeah I guess," he muttered. Tears leaked out as his mother grinned at him.
"Derek!" Aaron yelled, interrupting them.
"Wait your turn," his mother scolded, unheeded as Aaron tackled them both. He scurried between them the next moment, sitting on Derek's chest and pointedly ignoring his mother's glare as she stood and brushed herself off.
"Long time no see big brother," Aaron grinned down at him. Derek rolled his eyes quickly.
"And you're exactly the same as when I left," he teased gently, ruffling Aaron's hair. Aaron scoffed before preening.
"I am much more handsome thank you very much."

By the time Derek had pushed Aaron off and regained his feet, with a hand up from his father, Curtis and Amelia had joined them.
"You're still here," Derek told Curtis, a bit surprised. One shoulder lifted and dropped.
"Yeah," he said simply.
"He can't get Grace tied down," Aaron revealed. "Still." Curtis scowled at Aaron, reaching out to smack him which Aaron dodged easily. Curtis stepped forward then and offered his hand before yanking Derek into another hug.
"It's good to see you Derek," he breathed quietly. Derek could tell he meant it and his shoulders sagged just a bit further.
"Good to see you too. Sorry about Grace." Curtis laughed quickly.
"She'll come around. I'm not in a hurry." Derek forced himself not to think about Stiles. Amelia shoving Curtis out of the way was a relief. He really looked at her for the first time and she stole his breath.
"I know," she said quietly, tucking hair behind her ear and taking another moment to adjust her tank top, "I look just like her." Derek swallowed, feeling himself nod.
"You're so beautiful Amelia." She smiled a bit before finally pulling him in for a hug and Derek lifted her easily, turning in a quick half circle before setting her down again.
"You too Derek. I'm glad you're back." She bit her lip and Derek would have been apprehensive if he wasn't so stupidly glad that she still did that when she was nervous. At least some things hadn't changed while he'd been gone. "You're back for good right?"

Absolute silence fell around them and Derek tensed once again.
"You don't have to make any decisions now," his mother cut in. "We're just so glad to see you. So glad," she sighed, arms wrapping around his waist from behind. "We missed you," she breathed into his shoulder before kissing it. Derek relaxed again. This didn't have to be permanent. But it could be. He didn't know yet. For now he was home. That was what mattered.
"So you're back," Will spoke quietly from the porch, arms crossed as he leaned against the railing. Derek nodded once. They watched each other for several long moments before Will turned and went back into the house. His mother gave him another squeeze.
"He missed you too," she offered gently. Derek nodded again. He couldn't have expected his return to go any better.
"I'm going to see my girls," Peter said, "we'll come back for dinner?"
"We'll see you then," his father replied, hugging him again quickly. Derek's mother moved to hug Peter as well, kissing his cheek.
"Come inside," his father said, arm looping over Derek's shoulders. "We have so much to talk about."

It was just past four in the morning and Derek was in the kitchen drinking a beer with his parents. They were scattered around the old dining room table that also still looked the same it always had. It was weird drinking with his parents but yeah…this was good. Curtis was out. Amelia had gone home with Peter, Emily, and Annabelle for a sleepover. Aaron had disappeared about an hour ago and Will was seated on the steps, probably listening to them. Derek didn't comment. Neither did his parents. They'd all been talking for hours and Derek was surprised at how easy it was. But then again he supposed you didn't run out of things to talk about when you hadn't seen each other in years. Now it was quiet and Derek found himself reveling in the comfort of it. His mother laid a hand over his, smiling softly at him.
"You smell of another," she murmured, "you smell quite a bit of another." Derek felt his face heat as his stomach twisted brutally. He couldn't smell Stiles on him, not smothered by his family as he was, but it was comforting in an odd way to know his scent was still there.
"I took a mate," he admitted very quietly. His father choked on his beer, coughing quickly.
"A mate?" his mother echoed, tone matching his father's expression. "That's…wonderful uh. Yes. Wonderful. Where…is she?" Derek could practically feel as his face closed off centimeter by centimeter.
"It didn't work out," he admitted even quieter.
"Oh well that's all that needs said I suppose," his mother exhaled. "Unless you…want to…?" Derek looked down to his beer, fingertips peeling at the label.
"I don't think I can." His mother squeezed his hand again and he inhaled slowly around the sudden pinch in his chest.

It wasn't much later that Derek was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. The bed was soft and big, nothing wrong with it. It smelled good but not right. It was too big. Too empty. How did he used to sleep alone? He used to every night. He remembers doing it. But it's as if only his brain does. His body nearly aches with the alien sensation of it. With a long sigh he finally gave up lying still and climbed out of bed, crossing to his bag. He had the zipper open, hand searching when he froze. The footsteps in the hall froze too. Derek knew, just knew, that it was Will. He moved to the door, feet skipping over the squeaky boards automatically. Will's arms were crossed tightly across his chest, eyes shining wet. He uncrossed his arms and swiped at his eyes.
"You can't leave again. You c-can't." Derek yanked his baby brother into a tight hug.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to him. "I'm sorry Will."
"Can I stay with you a bit?" Will mumbled into his shoulder. Derek smiled softly.
"Get in here." It was such a relief to curl up with Will just like they used to. It made parts of him ache with the thought of Stiles but at the same time just to have a body close to his felt like it might be enough.
"You really had a mate?" Will questioned softly. Derek's heart slapped into his chest.
"Yes," he said when he could speak again.
"What were they like?" Derek wanted to smile so he did. Leave it to Will to figure it out.
"He's amazing."
"Tell me," Will said. It was enough of a question and Derek knew he didn't have to. Still. This was Will. He sort of owed him whatever he wanted.

"What's a Stiles?" Will questioned moments later, smiling loosely. Derek returned the smile and god he missed this. He missed Will. He missed sharing secrets. He missed feeling young. He hopped out of bed and went back to his bag, opening the side pocket.
"This is a Stiles," Derek told him, handing over the thin stack of pictures. Will flipped through them slowly. Two were of he and Stiles in Seattle, one serious and one goofy. Stiles had been delighted that Derek had never taken a goofy picture. One was of Stiles sleeping in his car. Three were of Stiles asleep in bed; they'd been the last pictures on the camera.
"You look good together," Will said absently. Derek fought the urge to blush.
"He drives me crazy."
"Yeah I can tell," Will teased, offering the pictures.
"He's human," Derek sighed softly, flipping through the pictures slowly. Will was quiet a long moment.
"Oh," he exhaled. "But did he love you too?" Derek stopped and folded the pictures to his chest. He noted Will never asked if Derek loved him. He must still know him that well. Another time, another thought, Derek might have smiled.
"Yeah. I think he did."
"Oh," Will repeated. Derek fell asleep with Will beside him, feet tangling for space at the end of the bed and pictures still curled to his chest.

They were woken rudely the next morning when Amelia crashed through the door, jumping on the bed. Her elbow landed solidly in Derek's stomach, knocking the still asleep breath from his lungs.
"Jesus Amelia!" Will complained, shoving at her. It only succeeded in pushing Derek off the bed as she ducked it easily. Derek thumped to the floor, waking suddenly at the feel of smooth paper under his fingertips. Amelia was giggling as he shot up, eyes racing over himself and the floor in an effort to gather all the white rectangles. He smoothed down a bent corner and forced himself to breathe. Everything was fine.
"Who's this?" Amelia questioned, showing Derek the photo of Stiles and him at the Space Needle. Derek shoved to his feet and snatched it from her with his free hand, crossing to his bag in the next second.
"He's a friend," he returned as soon as they were safely zipped back in his bag. Amelia was pouting when he turned back around.
"I will always know when you're lying big brother."
"Would you like a gold star," Derek muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. Amelia's pout twisted to a frown.
"Fine," she huffed, flipping her hair quickly, "breakfast is ready just so you know. Hope you don't choke on it." He snapped his teeth and Amelia grinned suddenly, bounding off the bed to hug him. "I missed you," she breathed into his chest, squeezing him harder. Derek's arms wound around her as he buried his nose in her hair.
"Me too." Will threw a pillow at them, earning a quick growl from Amelia.
"I'm eating your bacon," she declared, slipping from Derek's hold. Will's eyebrows shot up.
"You are not!" Amelia rushed out of the room with another laugh. Will was hot on her heels and Derek wondered if they would manage to eat all the bacon before he got there. He was guessing not.

By the time Derek made it to the table everyone was already eating, Will and Amelia shoving strips of bacon into their mouths as they continued arguing. Derek couldn't help but chuckle as he dropped into the chair he always used to occupy, eyeing the empty plate that still smelled like bacon. He couldn't bring himself to mind. Instead he dug into the scrambled eggs and grabbed some toast, shooting Aaron a quick smile when he poured orange juice for him. Amelia passed the jam before he'd said anything and Derek had to pause as his chest warmed and then pinched in rapid succession. He'd never stopped to fully admit to himself how much he'd missed being home. Home. His mother slipped from her chair on his left and Derek forced himself back into motion, freezing again when she set a plate of bacon next to his plate. She smiled at his shocked gaze, dropping to kiss his hair before returning to her seat.
"You think I'd let you go without bacon your first breakfast back?" she teased quickly. Derek smiled at her so hard his cheeks ached with the effort of it.
"I missed you," he told her, emotion saturating the words.
"Me too." She touched her eyes quickly before picking up her fork again. Derek scraped most of the bacon onto his plate before passing some to Will, who stopped arguing with Amelia abruptly and grinned. Derek had to stab Amelia's hand to protect the rest of the bacon but they were both smiling as he did.

"We're going to have a meet tonight," his father told him as he helped Curtis with the dishes. He paused significantly, mouth twisting bitterly for just a moment. "Will you come?" Derek was so shocked by the question the cup he was drying dropped from his hands, Curtis shooting him a look as his hand snatched it from a freefall.
"Yes," he forced out, "of course." His father was visibly relieved; smiling so fast it was gone by the time Derek had blinked.
"Good. I'll go spread the word." Derek went back to the dishes slowly, eyes gazing out the kitchen window, noting Will and Aaron headed across the field and towards the woods blankly.
"The pack's been expanding," Curtis told him. "He probably won't be back before lunch."
"Wow," Derek returned. He'd forgotten about this. His father was very involved with their pack. He visited everyone once a week at least. Derek's chest hurt again. He leaned against the counter and for a moment even struggled to breathe. Growing up it hadn't been a huge deal, their pack had hardly been a handful of families. But they'd been growing, apparently at a steady rate.
"It's almost scary," Curtis said then, "how strong we are now."
"I'm not ready," Derek told him honestly. He knew that tone. Curtis was about to launch into something he knew Derek didn't want to talk about. Curtis blinked at him a few times, face blank.
"Alright," he agreed finally.

Derek tossed his towel to the counter before all but fleeing the kitchen. He ended up back in his room, staring at the bag he'd brought with him. He crossed to it slowly, hand hesitating over the zipper before opening it. The dresser drawers filled slowly, pictures carefully tucked under his socks. He didn't have many clothes anymore and the dresser wasn't half full before he was staring down into the last item in the bag. The house was nearly silent and Derek tried to focus on that as his shaking hands reached down. He could already smell it and his mouth began to water. His chest ached again and Derek wrestled with the pain. Part of him wondered if Stiles would notice the shirt missing. It hadn't been enough of a worry to stop him, especially with how many shirts Stiles had lost to Derek's claws. Derek wondered when he'd become such a masochist as his hands brought the fabric to his nose as if there was no other option. Even inhaling slowly he wasn't prepared for it. Pain spread through him, numbing every inch it crossed with the sheer intensity of it. Derek sank down slowly, still breathing Stiles in. His wolf writhed with want and his hands clutched at the fabric. He could feel the change coming over him and he didn't stop it, he didn't want to stop it. His family would just have to understand the scratch marks raked into the floor.

…

Stiles stretched his legs slowly. He gave the pictures in his hand one last glance before sitting up and sliding them back into the envelope. It still physically ached like a hole punched through his chest. But it was better. It'd been four days since Derek left. Stiles still couldn't quite kill the hope that he would come back. Somehow. He had the feeling that hope would be with him for a long, long time. But that was okay, he guessed. It was…bearable. He could easily remind himself that it could be worse because it had been worse. There was Derek actually leaving. Then there were the cruel moments between doses. At least he didn't still want to be drugged. But for a while it had been so easy to just lay back, close his eyes, and shut everything down. Drugs were good he'd decided. But the offer only extended until the month was over. The last thing Stiles needed was to be strung out and have to deal with the repercussions going home would bring him. So he sucked it up, sort of, and spent the first day off drugs in bed crying. He'd probably ruined a pillow just with the amount of snot he'd produced. At least he didn't have to worry about being quiet. Everyone in the building heard him anyways.

He couldn't go back to Derek's house. Not without him. So the infirmary had become his temporary home. Stiles did a lot of pacing. He also did a lot of sitting. He tried to come up with any sort of story that might even be plausible. Hands digging into his scalp he'd wondered how far his dad was going to push this. Stiles highly doubted he'd just welcome Stiles back with open arms and lay it all down to rest. He'd want answers. He'd want someone to hold responsible. Hell he'd want someone to slap the handcuffs on and escort down the center of Main Street himself. If the situation was different Stiles would probably want the same. For just a moment he pictured his father walking Derek down the street in handcuffs. The brief image ended when he saw himself latching his lips to Derek's and refusing to let his dad yank him off. He couldn't stop a wistful sigh, sagging back onto his bed. There was a quick rap on the door, Stiles was again glad he'd gotten his own room, they must feel really bad for him-but then again how much does an infirmary for werewolves even get used?-and Aiden poked his head in.
"Feeling up to a chat?" he questioned. Stiles forced his lips to curl before nodding.
"Yeah."

"How you feeling today?" Aiden questioned and Stiles mustered another smile for him.
"I'm better." There. It wasn't even a lie. Stiles had learned not to say I'm okay or even I'm fine. At this point, those still were lies. Stiles didn't think he'd know what to do returning to humanity where not everyone could tell when he was lying. He didn't think he'd know what to do at all.
"Thinking about going home?" Aiden asked next and this caught Stiles off guard. There was still roughly a week left in the three month period. Just a smattering of days for his strained bond with Derek to live. He wondered if the death would be quick or slow. If it would just turn off or if it would shadow him for months to come.
"Not really no." He paused awkwardly, fingers curling and uncurling as he bit at his lip. "Should I be?"
"Well," Aiden exhaled, scarily like Ross, "here's the thing." He crossed the small room and grabbed the chair by the window before hauling it back to the bed and sinking into it. He took a moment to cross his legs and fold his hands carefully over his knees. Stiles wondered why Aiden was taking on more of his father's responsibilities. When had that happened? Because this was a discussion he and Ross would have had. He could feel it. "When you return home," he smiled around the words and Stiles nearly shivered because damn why had he never noticed the similarities before now? "Your story is going to draw some attention," Aiden continued, unfazed by Stiles' internal dialogue, even though it was visible on his face. "Somewhat unavoidable really I mean you went missing and you'll return home safe and sound it's the happy type of stuff everyone likes to hear. But if you're gone for three months, or just over three months it's…riskier." Stiles arched an eyebrow. "Which is not to say it's dangerous. Not at all. It's simply well riskier."
"So you said," Stiles pointed out dryly. Aiden was silent a beat and Stiles being Stiles his mouth went ahead and filled it. "Your Rossness is really creeping me out just by the way."
"My Rossness?" Aiden prompted, lips flickering over a smile.
"It's like he's using you as a meat puppet."

Aiden glanced to his laced fingers, shoulders sagging after another moment. His hands went to the arm rests and he uncrossed his legs, relaxing into the chair. Stiles couldn't help but relax too. Now he was just Aiden.
"He would have come himself but he…doesn't feel well," Aiden began haltingly; "he blames himself for how things happened." Stiles frowned at that.
"Why? It's not like he made Derek claim me. He didn't make me fall in love with him either." Stiles' chest burned admitting it out loud and he forced a deep breath, trying to relax again.
"Derek was pack," Aiden said in response, brow furrowing. He paused a moment and shook his head before clearing his expression. "You are pack-for now. It's my father's responsibility to take care of you."
"I don't understand," Stiles admitted. "Ross has a huge pack. Why is he so affected by this? You guys have to have stuff sort of like this happen all the time."
"Stuff like this?"
"Well yeah. Humans leaving. Going home."
"No," Aiden said, "not after being claimed." Stiles blinked at him. He could feel himself gaping.
"How is that…possible?"
"Bringing humans in is a relatively new development for our pack. Really new actually. Within the last decade." Stiles nodded because that made sense. It wasn't like they could track people online before then. His body gave a quick spasm at the residual creepy factor. "Humans being claimed hasn't worked as well as we'd hoped. Usually only one was claimed, if any at all. Three being claimed on the last run was our highest number."
"Huh," Stiles let out.
"Until now they've made the decision to stay." Stiles bristled somewhat at the statement, though he was sure Aiden hadn't meant any offense. "Been able to stay…you get what I'm saying." Stiles nodded again.
"So I'm the first person to leave the settlement after staying more than a few days." Stiles honestly wasn't sure whether he was saying it to Aiden or himself.
"If you're not counting Derek," Aiden murmured. Stiles huffed out something like a laugh.
"Well isn't that ironic."

"So how many humans are here?"
"Eleven. For now."
"Oh." Stiles supposed he shouldn't really be surprised. It wasn't like he had any way to tell the difference between humans and werewolves while werewolves were playing humans.
"You guys should have like some sort of integration program or like…a humans mixer." He was going over his first few days here in his head. Remembering how alone he'd felt. How off balance he'd been.
"Mm," Aiden allowed, barely, "mates can get a bit territorial."
"Oh right." Stiles remembered Shane's sweatshirt then. "It's weird though. As long as I was here I hardly know anything about you guys."
"Half precaution, half Derek being incredibly antisocial."
"Hey," Stiles was saying before he could stop himself, "he tried." Aiden held up a hand in defense.
"Didn't say he didn't." Stiles' cheeks heated slightly and he looked away. "Speaking of precaution, we should get back on topic." Stiles looked back to him warily, expecting the return of Ross 2.0. "You'll be asked questions when you get home," Aiden said. "You'll need a story to tell."

They'd been going back and forth for about twenty minutes when Aiden leaned back with a huff of breath. His fingers tugged at his collar and he fanned his face quickly. "Okay so," he paused at Stiles' look. "What?"
"Are you alright?" Aiden squinted at him, as if he was missing something obvious. Stiles took a moment because maybe he was missing something obvious. Yeah…he was. Aiden was sweating. It was like an all over glisten on his face and throat and Stiles wondered how the hell he'd missed it. "You're not sick are you?" Stiles winced as he asked it. Did werewolves get sick? Aiden smiled at him before running a quick hand through his hair.
"Dude it's like ninety degrees in here." Stiles glanced down to himself which was sort of ridiculous because his body was not a thermometer.
"Wait really?" He felt fine. He even did a quick check for sweat. Nothing.
"Your body temperature has dropped significantly Stiles." Stiles winced just a little at the way it was said. Like he was breaking it to him gently.
"I hadn't noticed," he muttered, trying not to sound petulant.
"Well you wouldn't." Stiles supposed it was supposed to be a comforting tone. He wasn't comforted.
"Okay so you're not sick I am. Good to know."
"You're not sick your body's adapting to a change." Stiles didn't bother not glowering because like he needed reminded seriously. It was plain in his face because Aiden cleared his throat, loudly, before looking away. "Anyways I think I hear the lunch cart. We can continue this later?" Stiles nodded before scratching at his head just to give himself something to do.
"Not like I'm going anywhere." Aiden still had a long way to go before he was on Ross' level. Stiles couldn't decide if it was a good thing.

A/N: This is Dylan's fault.

No seriously.

Why did that massive photo shoot get released today?

It ruined me.

I would have been on time.

I really really hope you guys like the Hales because I just aksnlaskdnlsdknf.

Also for a little bit we're going to be operating in two different times but I'll try to line it back up as soon as possible to be less confusing.

Do you guys mind the half and half chapters? Or do you prefer one whole chapter being one character specifically?

Let me know and I'll try my best to be accommodating.

Finally thank you all so much, seriously, for all the love and feedback.

Most success I've ever had plus the longest story so there's that too.

Anyways it's the same old thing you always hear from me.

Wouldn't have gotten here without you.

So thank you.

I'm sure you'll hear it again before everything's said and done.