A/N: Hurray for new chapters!

WARNING: TRIGGERING DESCRIPTIONS OF CUTTING AND DEPRESSION!

Also smut soon! MALE x MALE!

ENJOY!

Chapter 4

Nobody bothered Stiles for hours. He didn't fall asleep but he wasn't fully awake either. The cuts on his wrist itched beneath the bandage and every once in a while he'd brush his cold fingers over it, feeling the coarse gauze. Sometime during his haze someone had draped a blanket over his shoulders and he gradually felt his body relax, the shivers he didn't know was wracking his body slowly died away. He suspected Derek had done it since neither Scott nor Isaac would go near his bed.

When he finally decided to move again there was a painful crick in his neck and his back had started to ache. The other three weren't anywhere to be found and he figured they must be in the kitchen since there was no way they could go outside. Derek's phone lay next to his arm and he flipped it open to check the service. Still none. Slowly he got up on aching legs and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. The cold floor made him shiver but he ignored it as he went up the stairs to see what the wolves had gotten themselves up to. All three were huddled around the grill making small talk as two of the steaks grilled and one of the chickens was waiting to be put on. They quieted when Stiles entered.

"Ah, hey Stiles! How was your nap?" Scott asked, breaking the suddenly uncomfortable silence.

"I wasn't asleep." Stiles muttered. "I can leave again if you wanted to keep talking. Sorry to intrude." He mumbled and went to take a step backwards but ended up snagging his foot in the blanket and was on his way towards the floor.

Before the other two could react Derek had darted forward and gathered Stiles' shirt in his fist, jerking him upright but the counterbalance had been too much and Stiles ended up falling right into Derek's muscled chest with an oomph!

"Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean to." Stiles murmured over and over as he pushed at Derek's chest, trying to right himself.

"It's ok, calm down." Derek growled, shutting Stiles up.

For a moment or two it was uncomfortably quiet and still as Derek continued to hold Stiles to his chest, his arm around his waist where it had curled unconsciously to keep him on two legs. Stiles froze against Derek's chest, his hands curled in his shirt and time seemed to stop for just that moment until Scott cleared his throat and Isaac picked up the tongs to flip the sizzling meat over. Things suddenly started moving again and Derek slowly removed his arm as he steadied Stiles. His hands were so warm on Stiles' arms through the shirt they seemed to burn and brand him. The blanket had slipped down to the crook of his elbows and Derek slowly slid it back up around his shoulders.

"You can stay. We were just talking about the storm. You surprised us." He seemed calm almost nice as he handled Stiles.

Stiles sat at the table slowly as if in a daze again but it was different. His eyes tracked Derek in confusion as he moved to the stove and took over the meat once more. Scott and Isaac continued to stare back and forth between the two them then at each other before they shrugged and started dicing up the chicken and putting in the space the steak soon vacated on the pan over the grill. Stiles could see they were using the charcoal and matches he'd gotten yesterday. Well, waste not want not.

"Do you want anything?" Derek asked suddenly and Stiles jumped a little in his seat, not expecting the loud rumble of his voice.

"Uh, no, thanks. I'm not hungry."

"At least eat something. All you had was bread in butter and I can hear the emptiness in your stomach from here."

Stiles curled his arms around his stomach almost protectively and frowned.

"I just don't feel hungry. No appetite. Must be the weather." He tried to reason but Derek shook his head.

"You barely had anything in you yesterday or the day before that."

"How would you know that?"

He pointed to his ears but kept his eyes on the meat. Stiles sighed and figured he wouldn't be able to get away with not eating like he could with his dad.

"Fine. I'll just make another butter sandwich."

Scott and Derek scowled at him while Isaac took down plates from the cupboard by the sink. Stiles shrugged and looked away as if that'd get him out of the argument. There was another window above the sink and by the table but they were both hastily blocked off with blankets. There were no decorations and even the table and chairs looked temporary and cheap. All of Derek's eating utensils were plastic and he only had paper plates and plastic cups. He had real knives and a few metal kitchen wares like the tongs, a spatula, and a few pots and pans. There were two ceramic bowls and the rest were paper with wax covering. He looked ready to move at any time.

He must have gotten lost in thought because the slap of a plate in front of him brought him back down to earth. In front of him sat a butter sandwich but beside that was about five pieces of the chicken they'd just cooked. He looked up at the wolves and Derek was concentrating awfully hard on cutting up his steak while Scott and Isaac were looking back and forth between the two again. Stiles didn't argue and picked up the sandwich and took a bite. There was less butter than he'd have liked but he didn't really care. He took another bite, and then another until it had disappeared from his fingers. The chicken was good as well. Plain but good. Soon that was gone as well and he was left staring at the crumbs on the white plate.

Stiles stood and tossed the plate in the trash bin beside the counter and nodded at the werewolves. "Thanks for the food. It was good." He mumbled and they all grunted one after the order starting with Derek.

After that he plodded back downstairs and pulled his chair over to the window and peeled back the edge of the blanket beside the cold window. There was absolutely nothing to do to distract himself so he just stared out the window as the clouds continued pouring rain and for a bit he could drown himself in the noise of it instead of the silence he seemed to surround himself in. The storm had given him the company he'd wanted but there was still that emptiness. He just couldn't seem to get rid of it and he felt like he was suffocating under it. The only thing that filled it seemed to be the pain that sparked every time he ran his fingers over the new cuts.

The bandage was becoming a problem for his cuts. There were too many cuts for such a small strip of gauze and he wondered if he'd have to overlap some of the older scars with new ones. He pushed the thought away. He'd get there when he'd get there. No use dwelling on something not in the present. It just didn't seem important enough at the moment. Nothing did.

The storm distracted him for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening when the sun started setting behind the clouds, draining the light from the sky once more and leaving only cold blackness behind. The inability to see anything beyond the rain spattered window began to urk Stiles and finally he moved away from the cold window and back into the semi-warmth of the loft, making sure to replace the blanket from where he'd pulled it back. The others were also distracted doing their own thing.

Once again Derek was reading, using a small book light while Isaac was busy folding computer paper into random shapes. Scott had fallen asleep and was most likely out for the night. Stiles stared at Scott's sleeping form and wished he'd be able to sleep as effortlessly and deeply as he seemed to. Stiles watched Isaac fold paper for a while longer until Isaac got bored and decided to sleep along with Scott. After the two had been asleep for about twenty minutes Stiles sighed and wrapped the blanket even tighter around him and leaned back in the chair, getting ready for the long wait until dawn.

"If you're going to sleep come over here." Derek's voice cut through the dark and startled him.

"Ah, no. I'm not sleeping." Stiles assured him and sat back once more, relaxing as much as he could with a numb butt.

"I don't want you falling off the chair again. Just get over here." Derek commanded. Stiles was about to argue once again but Derek cut him off. "Do not make me get up and get you."

With that note of finality Stiles got up and scooted his feet over to the bed before gingerly climbing atop the dark covers. He sat right atop of them and sat there instead of lying down. Derek didn't say anything more since he was on the bed and went on reading. Stiles slouched until he was able to relax a little and sat that way for the next few hours, listening to the sound of the storm and Derek's page turning. After Derek had finished more than half the book he set it down and turned off the light. He stretched and crawled under the covers.

"You going to sit like that all night? Hurry up and get under the covers so I can sleep."

Again Stiles didn't argue and crawled beneath the covers, his frozen feet finally getting some proper warmth. Tonight Stiles kept his distance from the werewolf. He didn't want to annoy him anymore than he had previously. In the comfortable embrace of downy pillows and fluffy, warm blankets Stiles unfortunately found himself slipping into sleep. The nightmare this time was different and honestly Stiles wished it was the usual nightmare over this horror.

It started off nice. There were people around him in a room he couldn't place where he'd seen before. The people were faceless, identity-less people. Stiles watched as the just milled about. There was no order in the room. Some people were sitting, others were standing or walking about but none of them were talking. Suddenly a little girl came up and grabbed his hand. When he looked down at her he saw water dripping down her face as if her entire face was crying.

A huge gash appeared where her mouth should be, just tearing open with an awful, sick sound of ripping skin.

"Why are you doing this?"

He stared at the girl in horror as the water turned to blood.

"Why are you doing this?!" she demanded louder.

"I-I don't understand." He whispered back in horror.

The entire room stopped and turned their faceless bodies towards him. Their skin began to turn grey and the smell of rot filled the air. Suddenly the people weren't so faceless. Lydia, Scott, Allison, Derek, Deaton, Chris, Danny, Ethan, Aiden, Heather, Malia, Peter, Melissa, his dad, his mom, Scott's dad, Laura, Cora, Jackson, Gerard, Erica, Boyd, Oliver, Kira, Finstock… everyone he'd ever met, everyone he'd ever loved or hated was there. Their skin turning black as they walked or crawled towards him. They were dying. They were dead. All because of him. It was his fault.

The little girl's grip on his became nearly unbearable, crushing the bones in his fingers and he screamed. He screamed until his throat was hoarse.

"STILES!"

Derek's yell of his name cut through his consciousness and broke the dream until it shattered. Finally he wrenched his eyes open and bolted up in bed. He was shivering and his throat hurt. Tears were pouring down his face, wetting his cheeks and soaking the collar of the shirt. His hand still hurt and when he looked at it in horror, expecting the decaying girl's hand to still be crushing his fingers, he saw instead Derek's firm grip holding tight to his hand.

"Stiles." Derek's voice was calmer, quieter now that Stiles was awake. "You awake? You with me? Come on Stiles answer me."

"I-I'm awake. I'm fine. Let go." He said hoarsely, tugging on his hurting fingers.

Derek let go but leaned forward so his face was in Stiles, staring at him intently.

"What happened? What kind of nightmare was that to have you screaming?"

Stiles backed away and looked around the dark loft. He could see Scott and Isaac's wide eyes even in the dark where they were staring concerned for him from the couch.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you guys. It was just a nightmare. I get them all the time. This just seemed…worse somehow. You should go back to sleep." He said, trying for off-hand nonchalance but instead got something like desperate and panicky.

"Stiles, answer me."

Derek's voice was low, almost threatening, and Stiles shivered for a second before turning to meet his piercing glare.

"It was just a nightmare. There was a lot going on and I don't really remember. Can we just go back to sleep please?" he was starting to get anxious.

Derek stared, and stared, and stared at Stiles until he was practically writhing in his spot with discomfort. Once he was satisfied with his staring, Derek scooted back under the blankets while Isaac and Scott lay back under theirs, quietly whispering amongst themselves.

"Are you going to lie back down?" Derek asked.

Stiles swallowed noisily, a little winded still but nodded all the same. When he scooted back down the comforter and blankets were tugged up around him and he could feel the heat of Derek on his back. He froze and his heart seemed to thunder in his chest.

"It's ok. Nothing's going to hurt you." Derek murmured softly into his ear, so quiet the others couldn't have heard.

"The dark hurts." Stiles whispered his words honest for the first time in ages and it'd been on accident. He'd only spoken his mind.

Arms made him jump as they snaked around his torso and pulled him in tightly to Derek's chest. Stiles' heart hammered in his chest and he knew Derek knew as well. He just wants to go back to sleep. That's all. He's not doing this for you. Stiles calmed himself by pushing away any sort of meaning this action could have. If he started to hope now then the disappointment would be greater later. Finally sleep overcame the three wolves and Stiles was left awake but warm in the odd comfort of Derek's arms. Stiles didn't sleep after that but he didn't fall into a trance-like haze either. The hours actually seemed to feel like hours, passing by a minute at a time. The steady breath on his neck kept him distracted and he passed the night focusing on each breath and each movement of the rise of fall of Derek's chest on his back. In the morning the storm broke just a little and the early morning sun burst through the heavy clouds.

"You guys. I just realized that the full moon is this week." Scott said at breakfast that morning.

Everyone looked at him as if he'd just said something really dumb.

"Uh yeah, we know. We kind of have to keep track of that, being werewolves and all." Isaac said, the duh at the end of his sentence silent but implied.

Stiles munched on his scrambled eggs as he stared out the window next to the table. They'd thrown back the blanket to look at the sun that peaked through a couple gaps in the clouds. It was already day three of the storm and the wolves were absolutely stir-crazy. Even Derek seemed restless as he busied himself with cooking and tidying up.

"We should go out today. Run around and get all the pent up energy out while we still can. The storm is finally calm enough to let us outside." Scott said once he'd joined them and stared out the window with Stiles.

"Yeah. That's a good idea." Derek agreed and shoved an enormous bite of eggs and bacon into his mouth.

With plans set they finished breakfast quickly and went downstairs to tug on their sweaters and sneakers before running out the door. Stiles was second to last since Derek had to lock the door.

"Are we driving anywhere or just walking?" he asked.

"Walking. It's better to get the energy out while the sun's still shining."

Stiles nodded and plodded down after the hurried group. He found them waiting in the sun outside the parking structure and once he caught up Scott and Isaac took off running and whooping in the slight sprinkle. There were massive puddles everywhere that they had to avoid since it was too cold to splash through them. Derek walked along side Stiles silently. Stiles knew it was simply because he couldn't keep up with the three of them.

"Why don't you go run with them? I'll be fine. I'll walk the road towards the store and if the storm returns I'll turn back." Stiles reassured him and Derek gave him a curt but eager nod as he ran after the other two with vigor.

The air was frigid, biting at Stiles through the layers of clothes. His breath clouded the air in front of him as he walked over the slightly slick sidewalk. He could no longer hear or see the others but he didn't mind. It was finally quiet except for the slight sound of the still sprinkling rain around him. A warm patch of sun lit his back and he shivered at the warmth as he continued walking. It reminded him of the heat of Derek's body last night against his back and this time he shivered from the memory. Again he had to remind himself that it wasn't for him that Derek had done that, it was because he needed to sleep and Stiles was too obnoxious and kept waking him up with his stupid nightmares. Stiles sighed and focused on his walk.

The wind picked up after forty minutes of slow walking but the sun was still bravely poking through the clouds so Stiles didn't turn back yet. This stretch of road was mostly empty, trees on both sides. Stiles slogged through the water on the ground and stared ahead, getting lost in thought, wondering where the others could have gone but tossed that thought aside, knowing they were safe. After a while he stopped thinking and just walked mindlessly forward. He had no idea how far he'd gone or how far he still had to go until he reached the store and turned back. Yet, he was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice that the rain had picked up as well. All he knew was that the sun was still shining so he was still going to move forward.

The wind whistled in his ears and he hunched down into his jacket to give himself some more warmth but it did little to help. His hands were stuffed in his pockets but they were still frozen. His toes inside his shoes were wet and cold and his legs even seemed absolutely chilled. There wasn't a single place on Stiles that wasn't cold. His body, his mind, his heart, all frozen. He reached the end of the straight away and the road curved but he stopped at the corner. He didn't want to keep walking. He was tired and cold. When he looked up again he saw very little sun and realized the storm was almost back in full swing. He'd missed the entire pick up of the storm. Cold realization settled into him and he quickly turned back, facing directly into the storm and slowly began the difficult way back.

After only ten minutes his face was stinging with numbness and the barrage of rain needles. He hated the cold. It seemed to penetrate everywhere and he could never warm up all the way. A hidden patch of slick ice surprised him as he slid right on it. His arms flailed, trying to get out of his pockets and only managed to free the left one with which he caught himself on. The bandage was ripped off as he skid and he jolted as pain tore through him. When he looked down he saw bright red being rinsed away by the cold rain. His wrist seeped blood as all his new cuts tore open once again and even an old one had split a little. He had nothing to wrap it in now that the bandage had been washed away by the rushing rain.

"Just what I needed." He mumbled to himself and slowly got to his feet.

He was soaked and miserable as he made his way back, slower and more carefully this time. His warm blood was trickling off his fingertips and he held it away from him to keep the blood off as much as possible. There was no telling how long he'd been walking. The straight road was coming to an end as he made his way back but there was still a ways to go. He hadn't realized how far he'd really gotten. The sun was completely gone now and the ominous clouds hung over head and rained down upon him and the entire city mercilessly. Stile wanted to cry but he just couldn't. He was too cold and too tired to waste any more effort.

"Stiles!"

The wind carried his name on it and for a second he thought he'd hallucinated.

"Stiles!"

There it was again, this time louder. He definitely wasn't imagining it. Was he? He held up his right hand to shield his eyes from the rain and looked around franticly, searching for the source of the sound.

"Stiles! Over here!"

He turned to his right, looking into the trees across the road but saw nothing but rain and blurry trees. Then he turned to the left, looking into those trees but still it was too blurry to really see anything.

"Stiles! Over here! To your left!"

He looked all over to his left. Looking back the way he came then scanning forward until he saw a hazy figure making its way towards him. Slowly he began to move forward again, not realizing he'd stopped and walked towards the figure. He knew that voice.

"Stiles! Hurry!"

He tried to pick up the pace but his foot slid a little so he went back to the slow, careful slide he'd begun earlier. Inch by inch the figure moved closer until he was standing toe to toe with Derek. They were both soaked and miserable.

"I thought you said you were going to head back once it got bad! We went back but you weren't there!" he shouted over the storm.

"Sorry! I went too far and when the storm hit again I wasn't ready for it! It's hard walking through this!" he shouted back.

Derek's face was near his so they could hear each other so Stiles could see when his expression stiffened and his nose flared. Quickly Derek began looking him over, his expression severe.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

Stiles yanked away from him and tried to pull his arm behind his body but Derek caught the movement. Quickly, with strength and speed Stiles couldn't match, Derek pulled his arm back in front of his body and held it up, taking in the sight of Stiles' bloodied wrist. The shock on his face was evident. It quickly turned to rage and Stiles suddenly found himself being tugged off the sidewalk and into the forest where the leaves of the trees canopied over them to shield them from some of the storm. It was slightly quieter but still quiet loud. Derek pulled Stiles forward despite his half formed protests that died on his lips when he saw the absolute fury in Derek's glare. Derek shoved him against a tree and held him there.

"What the hell is this?" he hissed out furiously as he held Stiles' wrist up to his face.

"Um…" Stiles didn't even have an excuse.

"Why would you do this?! What sort of sick, twisted game do you think you're playing here?!" Derek yelled at him, shaking his arm harshly.

Stiles grit his teeth on the pain he felt, both in his wrist and in his chest. He said nothing.

"Why Stiles?! Answer me!" Derek yelled right in his face, so close the warmth of his breath washed over Stiles cheek.

Stiles stared at Derek sullenly; finally letting the pain he felt show on his face. Why hide it anymore when it had been so thoroughly exposed. Finally the tears he'd kept inside slipped past his eyes and down his cheeks, flowing uninterrupted. Derek stared at him, the look on his face transforming from absolute anger to confusion to surprise to concern.

"Stiles, whoa, take it easy. What's wrong?"

The gentleness in his voice made Stiles heave a shuddering sob and he tossed his head back against the tree, feeling the rough bark against his scalp. His cries weren't loud but it was enough. Derek let go and he fell, his knees giving way as he let his anguish out. Before he could fall to the ground Derek's arms were there, his body was there, supporting him and carrying him since he had completely given up on holding himself up. His silent sobs seemed to break through whatever shock Derek had been in.

"What is this?" The question was softly spoken, more of a comfort than a real question. "What made this happen?"

Stiles shook his head slightly and he felt his body slowly hefted into strong arms and he just let himself be carried in Derek's arms as if a child through the woods. Once they'd cleared the forestry the cold, raging storm hit them full force once more and Stiles leaned up from Derek's shoulder.

"Don't tell Scott or Isaac. Please." He whispered and felt the arms around him tighten.

Derek wasn't an emotional guy but feeling the pain and anguish and clouded emotions pouring out of Stiles made him feel like he was dying. He hadn't felt this since his family died and he'd wondered why he'd survived but not them. It made him wonder what had driven Stiles to this point and how he'd kept it a secret for so long. Those tracks on his arms where already scarred or were scarring over. Yet there were new ones too that smelled only a day old. That meant that he'd managed to cut himself while at Derek's place as well.

Derek growled as he realized he hadn't been able to protect Stiles, his human pack mate. He'd had no clue that he'd been hurting. Sure he'd noticed the odd behavior, the not eating, the nightmares and the strange dazes he went into but he'd thought it was simply because of the storm.

"I yelled at him too." He seethed aloud and felt horror wash through him.

Stiles didn't hear what Derek had said but felt him pick up speed as his arms tightened around him some more. They were close to his loft now, the strength of the werewolf much greater than his own meager, human strength. When they were in the parking structure Stiles moved, pushing against Derek's chest to make him let go. His tears had been forced to a stop and now the feeling of emptiness and exhaustion washed through him.

"Let me go." He mumbled against Derek's shoulder.

"No. I'm not letting you go." He growled into Stiles' ear.

"The others will wonder why you're carrying me."

"I'll just tell them you're tired." He reasoned and stubbornly kept hold of Stiles as he clomped up the stairs.

Derek wrenched the door open with one hand while he held Stiles with the other. The other two whined at them as they stepped inside and Isaac shut the door behind them. Questions flew from the two before they'd made it four steps inside.

"What happened?"

"Where was he?"

"Is he ok? What's wrong with him?"

"Why are you carrying him?"

They ignored the both of them and Derek carried Stiles into the bathroom and shut the door in the other two's faces. Finally he set Stiles down on the closed toilet lid and knelt beside him, opening the cabinet beneath the sink.

"Isaac grab two pairs of sweats and two thick shirts." He called as he pulled out the first aid kit from the back of the sink.

There were hurried footsteps and after a bit a knock on the door. Derek left the open kit on the counter and yanked the door open a crack before pulling the clothes inside and locking the door. Stiles felt just a tad bit grateful that Derek was keeping this a secret for him.

"I can do this myself." He said, his voice cold and blank.

Derek flinched at his tone and shook his head sharply.

"No. I'm partly to blame for this." He growled and tore off the backing to a large Band-Aid that could cover all of his track marks easily.

"No you're not. I am. I did this to myself." Stiles whispered and looked at the door where the others were undoubtedly gathered, their ears pressed to the door and holding their breath to hear what was going on.

Derek went to the tub and plugged the drain before wrenching the handle onto the hottest setting and the sound of running water blasted through the silence.

"Take your clothes off. You need to warm yourself up."

Stiles just stared at him like he'd said something absolutely bonkers. "Um, I'm not taking my clothes off with you in here."

"It's not like I haven't seen a naked male before. Now hurry up and get out of those wet clothes or you'll catch a cold."

"What about you? You're still in wet clothes." Stiles argued.

"I'm a werewolf, I won't get sick. Now, either you take your clothes off yourself or I'll take them off for you." Derek threatened and Stiles' eyes went wide.

"Fine, fine. I'll take my damn clothes off." He mumbled and began pulling his layers off.

His wrist hadn't been bandaged yet so he carefully removed all three shirts and began tugging off the jeans and then the sweatpants he'd put on to try and keep himself warm. His feet were rid of the two pairs of socks and finally he stood there naked. He hadn't put his boxers on since they were dirty and stiff and would've been completely uncomfortable to wear. Feeling indignant he covered his junk with his hands and stood there awkwardly while Derek adjusted the temperature of the water in the bath so it didn't scald him when he got in. When he turned back to Stiles he barely batted an eye at his pale nakedness.

"You've gotten thinner." Derek mumbled and got the antibiotic salve out of the kit and smeared it over the bandage. "Hold out your arm."

Stiles did as he was told while keeping his other hand firmly over his junk and let Derek wrap the water-proof bandage snuggly around his wrist. Once it was all smoothed out Derek began putting the kit away.

"Why do you have a first aid kit when you heal ridiculously fast?"

"After the fights with the Alphas I realized it might be a smart idea to keep one around just in case the wounds didn't heal as fast just like when I'd gotten hurt before."

"Oh. Ok." It made sense.

Derek looked at him quickly, giving him a questioning glance before shrugging and checking the temperature of the water. He flicked the water off his fingers and turned the water off. The silence weighed heavily in Stiles ears and he felt a bit of panic seep in once more. Derek felt it run through the air and put a gentle, warm hand on Stiles arm, pulling him towards the tub.

"It's alright. Come on, get in." he said calmly as if talking to a pup.

Stiles nodded and swallowed thickly as he carefully put one foot in and then the next. The water was so warm at first that Stiles felt like his frozen skin was burning off but once he sat down and his body adjusted to the temperature change he shivered at the comforting warmth. Derek handed him a washcloth which he took and covered his waist so his hands would be free.

"Thanks." He said quietly after a few minutes of silence.

Derek gave him a long look before slowly nodding. Stiles didn't know exactly how to feel. Derek was being so nice to him and he didn't have any excuses to give himself to explain it. There wasn't any benefit for Derek in helping him.

"Um, can I ask a question?" he asked tentatively.

He looked up from staring at the rippling surface of the water to catch Derek's nod.

"Well, why…why are you helping me? Don't you hate me?"

Derek looked completely taken aback as if Stiles' words had slightly wounded him. It took him a bit before answering.

"Why wouldn't I help you? I'm not completely heartless and unfeeling. I can physically feel the pain you're feeling right now. I absolutely hate that I didn't notice it before. You were right here for so long and I didn't even notice. Why Stiles? Why are you like this?"

Stiles shrunk at the question and Derek quickly set one hand on the back of his neck in a soothing, gentle hold.

"No, no. I'm not mad at you. Well, I'm not that mad at you. I'm only mad because you didn't tell me. You didn't even tell Scott and he's your best friend."

Stiles sent the door a scared look but Derek shook his head. "They've given us some privacy and are up in the kitchen."

Stiles nodded and looked back down at his twiddling thumbs beneath the water.

"You guys didn't need me anymore." Stiles said before looking back up in pain at Derek's face.

"What do you mean?"

Stiles gave him a sad smile and shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

They sat there in silence. Derek had no idea what to say to that. He wasn't good at comforting or interrogating without hurting someone and right now Stiles needed to be handled delicately. So they didn't say anything more. After a bit of warming up Derek took the shampoo and conditioner bottle and drizzled some into his hand and ran it through Stiles' disheveled hair and lathered and cleaned him up. He let Stiles soap himself and after he was clean and rinsed he held out a towel.

"I'll let you tell me when you want to but from now on I'm not letting you out of my sight." Derek said sternly and saw Stiles give him a small, sad look that seemed to make his heart physically ache.

"If that's what you want." Stiles whispers.

A/N: A sad chapter! There was no smut in this chapter but there might be within the next two chapters! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and hope to see you in the next one!

I'm tired so I'm going to sleep. ~hearts~