Author's Notes: How are you guys liking the multi-pov's? Not too many, I hope. I like seeing into everyone's head, as long as the story is still progressing. Enjoy some super sarcastic Stiles in this chapter. Review to let me know if you're liking the story. Going to try updating with a new chapter every Wednesday. We'll see how it goes. :) I don't own Teen Wolf, but sure wish I owned Stiles.

Stiles/Derek/Lydia/Erica *Stiles is getting some lovin' in this story* (Romance/Humor/Angst)

Synopsis: When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him. After Season 2 Finale.

Warning: Language & eventual sexy fun times. Mature.

Multi-POV

Stiles POV:

Dammit, how hard can it be to get an appointment before three months from now? Apparently, quite hard when you tell them you want to come in because of a headache. If he were to go to the hospital, he was sure his dad would find out before he'd actually be seen by a doctor, and that would be more of a confrontation than he could handle at the moment.

"Guess I'm sticking with you, Aspirin, my new, dear friend." He said out loud, sensing his own exhaustion from the bizarre, frustrating day.

"Now I'm worried. He's talking to inanimate objects."

Stiles let out a very manly scream, uh huh, not a girlish yelp at all, and turned around seeing that Scott and Derek had come through his bedroom window and were now staring at him with piercing looks.

"Right and you both slinking into my room watching me talk to inanimate objects isn't creepy and voyeuristic in any way." Stiles's sarcasm was his modus operandi when he was uncomfortable, or when he was feeling left out (cue lacrosse) and ignored (cue Lydia), or when...really it was pretty much his stationary attitude. Being sincere hadn't been his forte since his mother had died.

Suddenly, with Stiles not knowing how he got from A to B, he was up against his closet door being taken in as a large lungful by the hulking mass that was Derek Hale. Awkward.

"Sizing me up as an entrée for dinner tonight? I have some decent BBQ sauce in the fridge if I'm too bland a snack for you." Looking to Scott around Derek's head, Stiles asked, "Mind telling me what the hell's going on, buddy? Customarily, I'm not that opposed to attention, but yeah...this is a little out of my wheelhouse of touchy feely stuff."

Evidently, not concerned enough to answer his question, Scott disregarded him, asking Derek, "Well?"

"Well, fucking WHAT?" Stiles lashed out; he was getting irritated, his head now hurting worse than before.

"Come over here and help me smell it out." Woah. What?

"Yeah...if this is some kind of werewolf sexual moon craziness, or whatever, instead of smelling me out, why don't you two go rub one out. Go ahead and remove me from the equation, because as many a housewife has said, 'I've got a headache. No funny business tonight, Sweetie.'" Usually, sex of any kind, Stiles would want in on that action. Not that the opportunity had ever arisen, besides the world wide wonderful web. Tonight, or well, anytime recently, Stiles had been too run down to be his standard spunky, go for it, self, anyway; thanks to Allison being Scott's all-consuming focus as of late, Stiles hadn't had to try too much to hide his below par state from his best friend. Although, him feeling ill sure hadn't made his mind slow with lusty images of a certain strawberry blonde. Focus; stupid ADD.

"Shut up would you, princess." Derek whispered in his neck, then cocked his head back at Scott, lifting his eyebrow in a "why aren't you over here yet?" way. Scott lumbered his way over to them and positioned himself into Stiles unoccupied side of neck, taking a large whiff, whilst Derek did the same to the other side. Double, superbly Awkward.

Closing his eyes, Stiles stood as still as possible, not daring to breathe hard lest he shiver, letting them do whatever craziness this was, so that they could leave and he could go lay down. He was starting to get light sensitive, so closing his eyes was helping with that at least.

"How are you feeling, Stiles?" Derek asked him while his face is still in Stiles's neck, and his hand, that Stiles had noticed had been on his shoulder, was sliding down his arm slowly to rest on Stiles's wrist.

"Like you two don't know the meaning of personal space."

"It's definitely there, but I detect an almost absence of smell mixing with it. Strange." Derek said to Scott, sounding perplexed. Yeah, the absence of a smell is strange, not the fact that two dudes are smelling me. Glad we have our priorities straight. Colossal eye roll.

"W-what does that mean?" Scott stammered to Derek. Stiles had contesting thoughts of both wanting to know what was going on with his best friend and Derek touching & smelling him and not really being bothered, because he was starting to tire of this ménage à trois of weirdness infringing on his right to suffer in peace.

"You guys almost done having your olfactory way with me? I think I need to lay down." Stiles started attempting to wiggle his way out from between the two werewolves.

Noticing what Stiles wanted, Derek and Scott backed away leaving him to stare at them; seeing an expression of apprehension on their faces and not caring, he turned his back to them, hissing as his head pounded in his left temple, and walked over to his bed, dropping down, liking himself to a boulder.

"Turn off the lights, unless either of you can clarify for me in less than two sentences what the hell just happened. No, you can't do that? Well, when I'm not feeling like my brain is going to ooze out my nose from this wicked headache, don't think I'm going to magically forget this strange little pow wow you guys forced upon me tonight." With that Stiles reached over to his night stand, popped three more aspirin, and quickly fell asleep.

Derek POV:

Climbing out through the window onto the roof and quickly sidestepping Scott before he'd be promptly tackled with questions he wasn't ready to answer yet, Derek tried to factor in his mind the various emotions he was feeling at the moment, and frankly was extremely glad he had learned to control his facial expressions and body language to not reveal his emotions so well over the years; thus Scott, and thank god Stiles, hadn't witnessed him having such perplexing reactions.

He didn't know what to tackle first. When Scott had come to him today with the news that Stiles might be ill, he hadn't had the time to deal with the reality of the situation; Derek's thinking had been: do now, agonize later, alone. Ah, identified emotion #1, agony.

Derek had never let on that he had a fondness for Stiles, and if he were more truthful with himself, he would know it was quite a bit more than fondness. During the time he'd known Stiles, since Scott's transformation, Stiles had shown himself to be trustworthy, loyal, strong, and has shown that his aptitude with the supernatural was beyond anything Derek could imagine. Stiles was good through and through, even if he did have one hell of a mouth on him. Nevertheless, as Alpha, Derek could not show his weakness for liking the human; it could put him in even more danger than he ordinarily got into being friends with Scott. Having to do this, go through each day acting either indifferent or to some extent cruel to Stiles, depressed the fuck out of him. Now, illness posing a potential threat to the human, depression was definitely forefront in the running for emotions consuming him now. Identified emotion #2, depression.

Derek had to stop this. He couldn't evaluate what he was feeling anymore right now, because if he did he might possibly break down, and he couldn't do that in the vicinity of Scott. Or anyone, especially with werewolf abilities.

So, with Scott, lurking behind him, obviously looking for Derek to give him some reasoning as to what was occurring with Stiles, he steeled himself for the onslaught and leaped off the roof waiting for Scott to do the same.

Scott POV:

Scott could clearly tell Derek was not alright. As well as the Alpha could usually hide it, Scott had noticed Derek touching Stiles's arm while they were trying to comprehend the damage and cause for said damage in Stiles's body. And now Derek seemed as if he were smothering inside himself; he even smelled...like despair? Scott still wasn't very good at smelling emotions, but it wasn't too hard at this very moment to make out what was going on internally with Derek, seeing as Scott had been going through the same thing for the past week.

Scott had stayed back from him when leaving Stiles's room. Somehow sensing the Alpha's need to momentarily compartmentalize before being questioned about what was going on with Stiles.

Watching Derek hit the ground, he did the same, and finally allowed himself to ask his questions after Derek seemed to finally acknowledged him.

"So what do you think? Did you pinpoint anything?"

"I think there's a definite smell of decay there, but the cause, I'm not sure about. And that's not sitting well."

"So, you can confirm it's not cancer, right? 'Cause you know his mom died from it several years ago, and I've been worried that..." Scott let the sentence hang in the air.

"No, it's not cancer, but..."

"But?"

"I think we need to call a pack meeting, because something is killing him, and I can't smell what's causing the damage. This is making me think that an external agent is what we're looking for, something he's coming in contact what or..." Derek didn't finish his sentence, suddenly looking as though he had thought of something that angered him; his eyes shifting to a glowing red.

"What? What are you thinking?" Derek growled menacingly, though it wasn't directed to be threatening at Scott.

"Could someone want Stiles dead?" Scott blanked. Why would anyone want to hurt, let alone kill, Stiles? Sure, he could be hyper, talkative, and a sarcastic little shit at times, but that's not enough to want him dead. Derek seeing him falter in giving him a response, growled his impatience.

"Like I said, we need the pack together, without Stiles finding out just yet. We'll need to establish a way to keep Stiles accompanied by a pack member at all times. Watch for any person slipping him anything or see if he comes in contact with anything. We need to be taking more precautions anyway. Agreed?"

Scott gradually nodded his consent knowing that it was going to be difficult to keep Stiles out of the loop, especially if they were going to have to pull shifts to watch him. Scott knew stuff like that wouldn't go unnoticed by Stiles for long. They had established one thing for certain, Stiles needed protection.

"I'm telling Allison; she'll want to come to the meeting." Scott wasn't asking permission. Talking with her earlier, it seemed she loved Stiles too, and after the way Derek had acted today, Scott was under the impression Derek might also, granted it wasn't probably the brotherly and sisterly love that himself and Allison shared with Stiles.

Derek nodded his head, his eyes still glowing. "Pack is pack, werewolf and human, alike. Call them, Lydia, as well. I want everyone on this. We're not losing Stiles." Derek gave a final growl and ran off into the woods leaving Scott to his task.

Before departing, Scott glanced up at Stiles's window thinking that Stiles didn't deserve this, didn't deserve having to deal with Scott's problems this past year either. Right now, Scott wished for simpler times; or, at least, Stiles to be safe and happy. Safe, ha. Like Stiles would ever not get himself and me into trouble. Still, they were going to fix this; all of them, together.

***Chapter Music Playlist: "Sirenna (Today We See Colour) (Ou Est Le Swimming Pool Remix)" - Losers, "Sea Shanty - The Dogs, "Old Friend" - Sea Wolf, "All Those I know" - Eric & Magill, "Warnings" - Sohn

Thought I'd mention an excellent fanfiction story I've been reading by DeCaStDe called, "I Run The Risk of Losing You, And That's Worse". Reading it has made me feel a little despondent in my hopes of writing something as good as it, but I'm trying to push through. Brain don't fail me now.