A/N: I actually got this chapter done a couple days ago but I forgot to post it! I'm so sorry for my negligence!

WARNING: Explicit male on male action. Triggering descriptions of self-harm and violence and language.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Teen Wolf or the characters.

ENJOY!

Chapter 17

"Stiles, wake up. You're dad's setting the table."

A hand was clasping his shoulder and shaking him vigorously to rouse him from his sleep. It worked. Grumbling he swatted at the disturbance but missed every time and simply provoked greater shaking.

"Ok, ok, I'm up. What time is it?" he asked with a yawn, stretching his body out to its fullest before deflating again.

"9:53. He let you sleep in this long, now get up." Derek's voice was right in his ear.

"Yeah. I'm getting there."

Finally he sat up and rubbed his eyes, not wanting to open them yet since the room was already bright behind his eyelids. After sitting there for a couple minutes he slowly opened his eyes and took a peek at Derek. His dark hair was mussed from sleep and he had a fading crease mark on his cheek. It was probably the most disheveled he'd ever seen Derek. It was actually a pretty good look on him. Too bad the usual scowl was back in place mixed with a little annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm awake now." Stiles shooed Derek's grumpy face away and climbed out of bed.

He immediately stumbled to the door and Derek gave him a weird look. "Aren't you going to get dressed?" he asked, gesturing to Stiles' pajama clad figure.

"Nah, I always end up going back to bed after or just lazing around the house so there's no point in getting dressed."

Derek just shrugged and got up to follow him but paused when he'd stood up. "Um, should I wait here? I don't think I'm invited to a family…thing." He finished lamely.

Stiles just rolled his eyes and tugged open the door. "Come on. My dad would scold me for bad manners if I let the guest miss out on breakfast. It's just a tradition my dad and I like to keep since my mom started it when I was seven." Derek could smell the sadness radiate from Stiles when he talked about his mom. "She said it was a good time for the three of us to be a family since we hardly ever spent time together." Stiles kept talking as he walked down the hall to the stairs. "I was always at school, my dad was always at work, and my mom worked a part-time job so our times never matched up except for on Sundays."

Derek didn't say anything and Stiles didn't expect him to since family was a rough subject for the both of them and they walked down the stairs to the kitchen in silence. The scent of cinnamon waffles and chocolate chip pancakes wafted to them from the kitchen and Stiles' scent immediately brightened, though the sad edge was still there. A large smile took over his face when his dad looked up to see them standing by the table.

"Mornin' boys! I hope you're hungry. I made enough for a small village."

"My stomach's a little wonky this morning but I could definitely eat a couple!" Stiles said and it made Derek's mouth pull down in the corners to hear the false cheer and lies in his tone but he kept that to himself.

"I'm starving, sir." Derek says gruffly and takes a seat at the table right after Stiles, sitting next to him since he recalls the Sherriff sitting across from Stiles on nights where he's checked up on them.

Papa Stilinski set the plate with the tower of pancakes in the middle of the table alongside the waffles he already placed there. The butter and syrup were placed beside that and Papa Stilinski finally took his seat, already reaching for a stack of three pancakes. The plates had already been all set in a stack so Stiles and Derek reached for theirs along with a knife and a fork and began grabbing their own breakfast.

"So, dad, how are things at the station? Find anything out?"

Papa Stilinski nodded, his eyebrows lifting high on his forehead as he finished the bite in his mouth. "You know how I put out that order for anyone with a number to come in?" Stiles nods as he butters up his pancake. "Well, so far we have the numbers seven through ten and thirteen."

Stiles freezes everything he's doing and stares at his father, his mouth hanging open a little. "That many?"

The terror that sours the air makes Derek growl. He hated that the brave, head-strong Stiles was so easily scared now. What the Hell had caused that? Derek shook his head. He knew what caused it. He'd caused it. The supernatural shit that has been going on has caused it. Been possessed and not being able to control his own actions and having to remember had caused it. The horror of what was to come had caused it. There was so much that Derek could have done but had been too blind and stupid to do anything about it. The sound of a fork clattering on a plate pulled him from his thoughts and his head jerked up from his soggy pancake to see Stiles shakily reaching for his fork that lay on the ground.

"You ok son?" Papa Stilinski asked quickly, worry etching itself in every line of his weathered face.

"Yeah dad, I was just kind of shocked. This thing, whatever or whoever it is, has obviously been planning this for a while. It's sick and twisted and…just…" he couldn't even finish his sentence.

Derek's hand made a decision without his brain telling it to and reached out and slid across the back of Stiles' neck and grabbed on gently, petting the hair at his nape soothingly. Derek's brain kicked in and he almost jerked his hand back except Stiles relaxed into his grip, shoulder's slumping. He could smell the panic slowly subsiding as he continued stroking his hair at his nape ever so lightly.

"It'll be ok Stiles. My deputies and I are doing everything we can to find this guy. We've made a call to the big guns so they're aware of the situation going on here."

Incredibly Stiles let out a small snort and an even smaller smile as he looked at his dad. "I thought you hated those guys."

Papa Stilinski straightened a little in his chair and pinched his face into a determined look. "It's not that I hate them, it's just that I think they're arrogant and push people around too much and never listen when I try and talk to them. They're a frustrating bunch that's for sure!"

Stiles huffed a small laugh and stabbed his pancake and tore a piece off, shoving it into his mouth. The mood lightened again and Derek finally pulled his hand back so he could use his knife to cut up the rest of his pancake and start eating again. He was on his third pancake and second waffle by the time that Stiles spoke again.

"So, anything else? No more bodies? No leads?"

Papa Stilinski shook his head as he polished off his waffle that had followed the three pancakes. "Not so far."

Stiles relaxes a bit but there's still a bit of tension. "I just hate the waiting. That's the thing that's going to kill me first."

"Nothing is going to kill you." Derek growls, cutting his fourth waffle with unneeded force.

Out of the corner of his eye Derek sees the tired smile Stiles gives him. Papa Stilinski pauses in his sipping of his coffee as he watches these exchanges between the two but doesn't say anything and watches as Stiles finishes his one pancake and Derek finishes most of the pancakes and waffles. After letting his breakfast settle a bit he checks his watch and almost chokes on his coffee.

"I have to get to work. If I blare the sirens I might make it without being too late." He says and quickly gets up to put his dishes in the sink and down the rest of his coffee and place the mug in there too.

Stiles looks at the clock on the oven and nods. "You might be right about that. I'm guessing five minutes late since it's already ten to 11."

"Right you are kiddo. I'll call you around dinner time and I won't forget this time." Papa Stilinski promises as he holster's his weapon and shrugs on his jacket.

Stiles get up and follows him to the front door and is surprised when his father pulls him in for a tight hug and drops a kiss to his forehead. The comforting scent of coffee and his dad washes over him and he leans into it, needing the comfort.

"Stay safe son."

"I will. I love you."

"Love you too. Make sure to lock everything up! And call me if you need anything! Anything at all!" Papa Stilinski calls as he walks out of the house to his squad car.

"I will, promise! Don't spend all day worrying about me and do your job!"

Papa Stilinski waves from the car and Stiles waves back until he's out of sight and then he's shutting and locking all the locks on the door. Stiles let out a long sigh and slumps against the door. There's sudden warmth pressing against his back and arms pull him away from the door and back against a body and Stiles leans into Derek.

"Derek…I don't know what to do. I can't research anything. I can't help out in the investigation. I feel so useless." He whispers and the arms around him tighten.

"I don't know how to make you feel better." Derek's voice rumbles into Stiles' ear, making him shiver.

They're silent for a bit and Stiles revels in the warmth of Derek and the steady beating of his heart.

"Derek? Can I ask you something?"

There's a rumble of affirmative against his back.

"When you touch me do you feel anything at all? Or were you just swept up in my feelings last time?"

Derek's silent for so long that Stiles can feel the flare of pain of his breaking heart again but then Derek's arms tighten around him.

"I…I don't know. I just know that I hate the scent of sadness and pain on you all the time. I hate the way you fall into depression and when you hurt yourself. I hate when you're hurt. And I hate that I don't know what to do. When I touch you…" Derek paused and tries to find the appropriate way to phrase this. "…it feels like I'm taking away some of that pain. I like it when you feel good. It makes me feel good. I don't know if what happened while you were at my place was what made me feel like this or if it's been growing or if it's because my pack mate is in danger."

Stiles nodded when it was obvious Derek wasn't going to continue. "So, you'd do this with your other pack mates? Scott? Isaac? I don't even want to say Peter because ick."

Derek actually growled at that and let Stiles go except for his wrist so that he could drag him up the stairs and back into the confines of Stiles' room.

"I don't like just standing there talking about something like this." Derek says as he sits down on Stiles' bed and pulls Stiles into the space between his thighs.

Stiles stiffens and folds his fingers together since he doesn't know what to do with them.

"To answer your question, no I wouldn't do that for Scott or Isaac and certainly not Peter." Derek makes an ick face in agreement even though Stiles can't see him. "I guess it's just limited to you. I try not to think about things that involve…"

"Feelings?" Stiles supplies when Derek struggles for the right word.

Derek huffs in slight exasperation. "If that's what you want to call it. So, since I don't really think about it, I don't really know."

Stiles nods and tries to process what he's just been told. "So, if I were to come onto you right now would you feel aroused because you want to or because I'm aroused?" Derek stills and goes rigid behind him. "Not that I am! You don't have to worry about that. I won't make you do that anymore."

Derek growls and wraps his arms around Stiles' torso. "That's the part I hate right there. The scent of pain and sadness on you. If you were to come on to me right now I don't think I'd become aroused simply because you were. At the moment I don't think either of us should feel aroused with the danger towards your life."

Stiles laughs a humorless laugh. "It only takes my life being endangered at every turn and severe depression and self-harm for you to talk to me like a real person."

Derek seems to choke behind him. "I don't mean to." He says, each word halting. "I just don't know what to say or how to act and I hate letting people get close to me because they could hurt me. It's…hard to trust others."

"Yeah." Stiles turns sideways in Derek's lap so that his legs are over Derek's leg and he's leaning against his chest. "I understand. After what Kate did…if that ever happened to me I don't think I'd be able to trust anyone either."

Kate's name was a sharp blade of anger between Derek's shoulder blades but then Stiles was petting his chest lightly as if he knew of the hurt it caused and slowly the anger and hurt slid away. Stiles continues to pet him and Derek's fingers start mimicking Stiles and brushes against his side rhythmically. They stay like that for a long while and the change in the atmosphere is so subtle and spread out that it takes a while for Derek to notice it. When he does he looks down at Stiles who had been looking up at him with half lidded eyes. As soon as Derek lifts an eyebrow at him Stiles' face goes red and he's looking away fast.

"Uh, sorry. Sorry, I know you said it's a bad time and it really is but I haven't…it's been a long time and you're here and…sorry." He finishes lamely.

"Quit apologizing. You're not doing anything wrong." Derek demands and his arm draped over Stiles' legs moves and he smooths his palm over Stiles' calf to his thighs.

Stiles sputters and quickly stops Derek's hand. "No, no, no. I don't want you to do anything about it. I just want to stay like this."

Derek puts his hand back down and under Stiles' legs pulling him closer so he can grab and lift him while he swings his legs up as he lies down on the bed, settling Stiles next to him. They both settle on their sides, looking at each other. Derek reaches up a single finger and gently traces the still prominent shadows underneath Stiles' eyes.

"They're still there after all the sleep you've gotten the past couple of days."

"When I'm asleep all I see are monsters so I don't think that can be counted as rest."

Derek's eyebrows furrow. "But I'm with you all night and you barely even move. When you were at the loft during the storm you'd wake up screaming."

Stiles shrugs and looks away from Derek's eyes, downcast. "I've kind of accepted them these past weeks. After…being rejected I didn't see any point in waking up from it since everyday was just another nightmare. And eventually I did stop waking up. Well, on the nights I did manage to sleep."

"Stiles…" Derek's voice was choked and Stiles looked up to see the pain fixed in the lines of Derek's face.

Stiles wanted to give him a reassuring smile or words to dispel that pain but in truth he was hurting too and Derek could see right through his bullshitting so he didn't.

"How?"

Stiles was startled by the question and the sudden ferocity in Derek's voice. "How what?"

"How do I make it better? Tell me what I need to do."

Stiles shook his head. "I've already told you everything you need to do. Just don't leave me and I'm sure that eventually I'll start getting better. Maybe. I don't really know."

The hot palm of Derek's hand pressed hard against the small of Stiles' back and pulled him even closer. "Never leaving you again." Derek growled and Stiles felt his stomach tighten at the truth and determination in his voice.

Stiles couldn't help himself. Quickly he darted forward and pressed a hard, chaste kiss onto Derek's lips before withdrawing again.

"Don't leave me." His broken voice pleaded to Derek in a breathless whisper.

Derek slid his hand up Stiles' back to settle the back of Stiles' head in the flat of his hand and brought him forward again, pressing his lips firmly against Stiles' like a promise. Derek's lips were a so gentle even though they were pressed so hard against his. Stiles felt like he could cry but instead kissed Derek back with just as much need. They needed this. They both needed the other for so many reasons to keep them from the pain of loneliness. This kiss wasn't sexual in the slightest. It was a promise, a reaffirmation of their needs and permission to each other. It was bliss.

When their hard pressed kisses finally came to an end Stiles lips were plump and swollen, shining slightly. Derek's were a nice, blushing pink and shining like Stiles'. They both looked at each other with satisfaction and finally Stiles gave a smile that wasn't full of pain or fake.

They lay there like that for a long time, breathing lightly and resting against each other, basking in their combined comfort. Soon Stiles' eyes began taking longer to open after every blink and yawns interrupted every other breath. Derek's hand that had settled on his waist gently stroked soothing strokes against the sliver of exposed skin on his hip. Stiles slowly sank into sleep with Derek watching over him.

Derek watched him sleep for a long time, not moving in case that woke Stiles and instead listened to the little sighs he let out, the slight hitch in his breathing every now and then, watching the fluttering of his eyelids as he dreamt. He really honestly hoped that he'd be able to help Stiles. He'd tried everything. Anger, silence, avoidance, even begging when everything else had fallen through and he was just done with it all. Yet still, nothing had worked.

Stiles had always made fun of his inability to simply talk but it was a really hard thing for him to do. Derek had been hurt and angry at the world and truthfully he still was. Yet here was Stiles, put through Hell over these last couple of years and he was just as broken as he was. Seeing and finally realizing that Stiles was so broken had opened something inside of him. He just knew that there was no way that he'd be any help at all if he didn't do something. This was his last resort.

He didn't know if he loved Stiles, didn't even know if he liked him but he certainly didn't hate him. Not anymore. Looking at him now, fragile and hurting, lying in his arms asleep and vulnerable, it made his wolf howl in agony and sadness and that made him confused, hurt, and more than a little panicked. He didn't know how to do this whole 'feeling' thing that Stiles has so eloquently pointed out earlier. He hasn't since he shut off his feelings so many years ago. They were rusty and he was afraid he'd hurt Stiles more than help if he did the slightest thing wrong.

Derek sighed and shuffled up the bed a little so he could tuck the top of Stiles' head under his chin, holding him tightly. Stiles mumbled something Derek didn't catch and his arm twisted around Derek's torso, pulling him tight against himself before sighing.

The afternoon quickly turned to evening and Derek found himself dozing off. He wasn't used to this much inactivity. The sun was dancing on the horizon by the time that Stiles stirred, rubbing his face against Derek's chest and smelling of contentment and faintly of arousal. Derek gently ran his hand over Stiles' hair until Stiles yawned and opened his eyes.

"W'at time's it?"

"5:22. You got some good sleep this time."

Stiles sniffed and rubbed his face against Derek's chest again before letting out a long sigh. "Yeah. It was…good." He said, almost surprised.

"Good."

Stiles was so warm wrapped up in Derek's arms and pressed against him so completely. Sometime during his nap he'd wrapped his legs around Derek's but he made no move to untangle them.

"We should cuddle like this more often. It's nice. And warm."

"Whenever you want."

Stiles lifted his face to stare into Derek's, one eyebrow raised. "Really? Even if Scott's over? Or Isaac? What about my dad?"

Derek sighed. "If you must."

Stiles bites back a smile and sighs again before nuzzling into Derek's chest. "Yeah right. I won't do that to you."

"That would be preferred but if you must then I can manage."

"I'll keep that in mind."

They stayed like that for a while longer, the sun settling below the horizon and casting the room in shadow before Derek's stomach growled beneath Stiles' head.

"Dude, that was impressive. Do you have a little wolf in there?"

Derek rolled his eyes and Stiles snorted. "Hilarious. We should eat though. You only had one pancake this morning."

"Yeah, yeah. What do you want, I'll make us something."

"No, I'll make us something. You can go watch TV or something."

They both sat up and Stiles gave Derek a weird look. "Why? I am perfectly capable of handling food."

"I didn't say you weren't. I just want you to take it easy. I'll make a few sandwiches." Derek said and stood up, pulling Stiles up along with him.

"O-kay then."

Instead of going to the living room and watching the television like was suggested Stiles stood next to the counter and watched Derek put together four sandwiches with lettuce, tomato, cheese, ham, pickles, mayonnaise, and mustard. Watching him work made Stiles' mouth water which eventually made his stomach growl, both for entirely different reasons.

"I'm probably only going to eat one."

"I know." Derek nodded and separated the sandwiches onto two plates, one on one and three on the other. "These ones are for me."

Stiles smiled and took the plate from him. "You know me well."

"You used to be able to devour all four by yourself."

"Yeah well, I haven't got much of an appetite lately." Stiles said while sitting down.

Derek sat across from him and picked up a sandwich. "I know." He said and took a big bite from his sandwich.

Stiles smiled once more before taking a smaller bite out of his. The sandwich was devastatingly good. The food felt good settling in his stomach after not eating since the morning. By the time Stiles had taken his second bite Derek was already on the last bite of his first and moving quickly towards his second sandwich.

The phone in Stiles pocket began ringing and Stiles didn't have to look at it to know that it was his father. He flipped it out and hit the answer button.

"Hey dad, you actually called at dinner this time. Great timing!"

"Stiles, is Derek with you?" The panic in Papa Stilinski's voice made the last bite sink into his stomach like lead.

"Yeah, he's right here. Dad, what's wrong?"

Papa Stilinski let out a shaky breath and his voice was even more strained as he said his next sentence. "We found number four."

The sandwich slipped from his fingers and fell apart on his plate. Derek's eyes were wide and his brow furrowed. He too had set his sandwich aside half-eaten. Stiles was staring at him with wide, scared eyes and without thinking Derek's hand darted out and grabbed his shaking one in a tight grip.

"Did you find anything?" Stiles asked, his voice shaking.

"So far nothing new. The victim is another female but she's only sixteen Stiles. She's only a year younger than you."

"Dad, Dad, it's ok. Calm down. I think you should come home." Stiles meant for the words to come out more soothing but instead sounded pleading and slightly panicked.

"I'm on my way Stiles. Don't let Derek out of your sight."

"I won't." Stiles choked out before the line went dead.

Stiles hung up on the dial tone and sat staring at the phone for another minute before looking up at Derek again with horror written all over his face.

"She was only sixteen Derek. She was so young."

Derek nodded, not saying anything. He was just as horrified as Stiles was. Stiles was starting to shake like a leaf so he calmly scooted their abandon plates over to the other side of the table and got up, not letting go of his hand. Calmly he pulled Stiles up out of his chair and Stiles followed him on autopilot to the couch. Derek sat down and carefully pulled Stiles into his lap, arranging him with delicate hands as if he were about to break. Maybe he was.

"I'm next." Stiles whispered and Derek's arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

"No you're not. I won't let anything happen to you. Neither will Scott, Isaac, or your dad. This sick, twisted thing isn't coming anywhere near you." He growled angrily and possessively.

"It's already killed four times and no one has even gotten a glimpse of it. I'm going to die Derek." Stiles said this so coldly and matter of factly that it made Derek growl. "I'm going to die."

A/N: All of those who review are so wonderful! I finally got 100+ reviews for this story and it's the most for any story I've ever written! I'm so happy! Yays! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I read every single one individually and I am so heartened by each one. It's kind of ridiculous really, all butterflies and happy feelys in my tummy. -.-

I'm building up to the finale! Only a few more chapters! I wanna reach 20 at least! Please continue to support me! Thanks! ~hearts~