Stiles The Teen Wolf
Episode Three: Pack Mentality

The second Stiles bolted up from his bed, head spinning, gut clenching, heart pounding, he knew something was wrong. His first instinct was to call Scott, tell the boy all about the weird nightmare he had about blood, a bus, and Derek, but he knew he couldn't.

Scott had betrayed him, made him betray Derek. Scott had given out information that wasn't his to give and got Derek arrested. He wasn't even ready to look Scott in the face much less tell him another secret he's friend could use against him. So he did the next best thing.

Pushing the covers off his sweaty form, he pulled open the window and reached for his phone.

It only took two rings before the gruff voice answered with the normal undertone of threat that Stiles heard on a somewhat daily bases. Apparently Derek Hale never slept.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Derek, do you…ugh do you ever sleep?"

There was a grunt from the other line, his only answer. Stiles decided to go with it. "You think you could come over?"

There was silence in the other end as Stiles took a seat on his computer chair. It lasted longer than Stiles was comfortable with, so he continued. "I mean, I know it's late, is it like what-" he pulled his phone away from his face to check the time and cursed. "Holy- wow, okay. I'm sorry man it's like six in the morning. You know what. Never mind, I can deal. Just…ugh, you know. Just go back to sleep."

He was about to just hang up again when Derek's voice came back, some of the threat gone from it.

"I'll be there in a few."

And then the dial tone.

Stiles didn't know whether to be happy or very very nervous. This could all be just an epic waste of time and effort on Derek's part. It's not like dreams even meant anything right?

So why did it all feel so real? The blood, the screaming, the body struggling against his for survival. It felt like he had killed someone. Like he had killed Derek. How much did he really want to tell Derek to his face that he'd dreamed of killing older wolf?

He really wanted to talk to Scott. No matter what the other boy did, it was a basic instinct to turn to his best friend when he was confused, or stressed, or nervous, or hell, even if he had something interesting it was all shared with Scott. Still, every time he picked up the phone to call his friend, Derek's voice echoed in his head.

"Can you? Can you trust him?"

I don't know, but I want to. I really, really want to.

He's thoughts were derailed when he heard Derek's approach. It was easier to pick up Derek's heartbeat than anyone except his Father's. He didn't know why but he just knew when Derek was around, when Derek was close. Like an instinct. Maybe all werewolves could sense each other like that.

"So what happened?"

No greeting, no 'good morning', no pleasantries. Cutting right through the bullshit. Right. Guess I better follow in his footsteps.

"Do werewolves dream?" Stiles flushed a little as he realized what had actually come out of his mouth. God that sounded so stupid, especially spoken out loud. When he chanced a look up at Derek, he was rewarded with a confirmation to his assumption that his question had been completely mental.

"Yeah, Stiles, werewolves dream. Why are you asking?" Obviously, Derek trusted him enough to still stick around to see if there had actually been any need to come all the way here. Stiles wasn't so sure anymore though, but he plowed on.

"I had this really vivid dream about…" Well, he didn't really know how to put it. Well you see man, I had this dream where I chased you into a bus, cut you up with my claws, dragged you back when you tried to escape, and basically gutted you right there on the floor. No. For some reason, Stiles didn't think that would go over too well at all. "About killing someone."

That got a more serious response than Stiles had been anticipating.

Derek bolted up from his seat on the edge of the bed and rushed to Stiles. His big hand was on the back of Stiles' neck in seconds and he was looking straight into electric blue eyes that glowed in the light from the moon. Wow, those really are a very beautiful color.

"Where? How real are we talking? Did you smell blood? Did you hear anything? Who did you kill?"

The questions came in rapid fire and Stiles was honestly thrown for a loop. Not to mention how distracting it was to have Derek's face seriously inches away. He was freaking out inside. It wasn't like he actually thought his little nightmare warranted this much distress from the man.

"Derek! Derek, man it was a nightmare!" He argued, breaking into the man's ranted questions.

"It wasn't just a nightmare Stiles. There was an attack tonight."

Stiles suddenly couldn't breathe. That had to be some kind of joke right? But then again, Derek's sense of humor wasn't that twisted. Okay, wasn't a joke, then what was it? An accusation? Did Derek think he had done it? What exactly was it? What did an 'attack' mean? Did someone die?

"Stiles."

He knew what he had dreamed, the memory was clear the blood still soaked his hands and his claws were still buried deep in Derek's gut as he growled like an animal. Was that what had happened?

"Stiles!"

He could feel Derek's hands on his cheeks, holding his face and lightly slapping there to get his attention. "Come on Stiles, you got to tell me what happened. What did you see? Stiles?" The blue eyes were gone and Derek's natural green were back. Okay, I think that one is actually prettier than the other one. He took a deep breath, his nose filling with the scent of Derek's worry, almost fear, and then there was just…Derek. All of his senses were filled with the larger wolf and it brought the calm back to his head, to his heart. Thing is, it actually brought some of the nightmare back clearer too.

This hadn't been the scent on the bus, it hadn't been Derek's blood. It had been Derek's face, but not his presence and Stiles could suddenly tell the difference very clearly.

"It happened in a bus. Back of the School, a man, older and scared shitless." Stiles said through the sudden haze of overflowing Derek.

The green turned blue and Derek backed off. Stiles could finally breathed fresh air and get his hand on straight.

"You don't think I did it…do you?"

Derek's answer came quick. "No." Like a reassurance that Stiles really hadn't been expecting. He'd expected some skepticism, not the instant denial of Stiles guilt. But then Derek went on. "You've been in your house all night."

And then Stiles' thoughts screeched to a halt all at once only one very loud very lard part of his brain kicked in. He was stalking me?

"You were stalking me?" Stiles knew he sounded accusing, and edgy even though he was the one that had called Derek over tonight, but that didn't matter. Derek was stalking him! The bastard didn't even look guilty, didn't even have the decency to blush and stutter like Stiles himself would be doing if he was caught watching someone sleep!

"No, genius. Your scent wasn't outside tonight and the traces of it that were had to be several hours old." That raised eyebrow and the look that stated just how stupid Derek believed him to be had Stiles choking on his earlier accusation.

"Oh." It was really the only thing he could think of to say considering the situation. Time to change the topic. "Then who do you think did it? Are there any other wolves in Beacon Hills?"

Derek's expression when from skeptical amusement to dim and grave in point two seconds and looking at it, Stiles knew exactly who the culprit really had to be. The Alpha.

He hadn't noticed he'd said I out loud until Derek nodded his head. Then again, maybe he didn't say it out loud and Derek was just answering his earlier question. He would never really know because in one instant, Derek was up and away from him, standing by the open window ready to go.

"Check out the bus tonight. It's too early today and you have school in an hour. Anything you remember, you tell me."

And just like that Derek was gone, his scent the only thing left behind to prove to Stiles that at least the last couple of minutes hadn't been a dream too.

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Stiles did talk to Scott. Or actually, Scott talked to Stiles.

That morning he found his friend waiting for him in front of the school, no Allison nearby. That in itself had been a bit of a surprise, seeing how much time Scott spent with Allison now a days. Hell, Scott had basically been initiated into 'Lydia Martin's clique' do to his relationship with Allison who had actually become Lydia's best friend since that first day.

Still, for the first two minutes, Stiles had managed to ignore him as the human boy followed after him, running his mouth in apologies and promises Stiles honestly didn't believe. But then he had seen the bus. The bloody, scratched up bus where his nightmare had taken place. Apparently not a nightmare at all. So he broke down.

When Scott asked him why he'd turned even paler than usual and why he was breaking out in a cold sweat and 'Dude, your eyes are yellow!', Stiles told him everything. Well, everything except what had happened with Derek that morning and who the older wolf suspected actually committed the attack. Of course, he should've guessed Scott's answer, he was actually disappointed in himself that he didn't see it coming in the end.

When he had finished recounting his dream and when Scott looked over at the bus, the fear radiating off of Scott really wasn't a surprise. It shouldn't have been anyways, but it actually was. Stiles felt the sting of betrayal all over again. Scott actually believed he did it.

He was being stupid, he knew, he had believed he did it himself this morning too until Derek had shot the idea down firmly and soundly with a very convincing argument. And then Scott opened his mouth.

"Stiles, I think Derek did it."

Stiles recoiled like he'd been slapped right across the face and he felt his claws and fangs coming, and by the look on Scott's face, his eyes had shifted too. His best friend was quick to take it back, they had only just reconciled after all.

"I mean, you don't think you did it do you? Is there any other wolves in Beacon Hills we should know about? Is there like a pack of them or something?" Scott waved his hands around as they walked. It was a very 'Stiles' move of him and Stiles actually appreciated the level of enthusiasm and flail in which Scott copied his signature movements.

"Personally, I am taking this really well for a newly turned wolf. I just want you to appreciate that for a second. And yeah there is at least one other wolf in this town that me and Derek know of, we just don't know who he is."

Scott didn't say anything about Derek for the rest of first and second period. Even when the body of the man who had been attacked was found during their Chemistry class. The whole class was startled into frightened yells when the body bolted up screaming, although Stiles was the only one who breathed a sigh of relief. If Derek was wrong and it had been Stiles, at least he hadn't killed the man.

And then Scott started talking about Derek at lunch.

"What makes you think Derek has all the answers? So he's helping you control your wolf, maybe that's just to cover his own ass. Hunters are out there and now that they know he's back in town, maybe he needs a pack to protect him and he wants you in it. Ever think about that?"

Actually, he had but he hadn't thought of it in the tone that Scott so clearly did. In Stiles' mind, he was already a part of Derek's pack, whether or not they had an Alpha. He thought of it as a good thing really, as a place beyond his home where he really belonged. Someone who would have his back, even when he fucked up. So what if Derek was running from Hunters, Stiles would stand next to him just like he stood next to Stiles when Allison's father – still don't know if it was actually him, Argent could just be a very popular name – had shot him in the arm with a cross bow.

"Scott, I've thought of that okay? It wasn't Derek. I saw him this morning and there was no blood, not even a trace of a scent, and scents linger man. A werewolf can always tell where you've been just by how you smell, especially if we concentrate." Stiles said, smiling a bit when Scott scrunched his nose up in a look of mild disgust.

"That has got to be unpleasant." Scott remarked, setting his tray down and taking a seat on one of the cafeteria tables. Scott sat down across from him.

"Not always." Stiles admitted. "It helps me monitor my father's heart you know? What he's eaten, if he's stressed, whatever. It helps me take care of him a little better." And that was true, it was one of the parts of becoming a werewolf that he thanked every day. "Anyways, it wasn't Derek man. You have to let it go and help me out. If we all worked together on this I think we could figure it out."

"Figure what out?"

Lydia Martin's voice came at Stiles like a bucket of cold water and then her perfume hit him like a punch to the nose making his flinch and sneeze. Holy shit he had never been this close to her in his life and now he found himself wishing she would actually back up a bit more. He kept his mouth shut as she sat down next to Scott, but he couldn't hold it that way for long.

"Why is she sitting with us?" He mouthed as silently as he could to his best friend.

When he saw Allison take Scott's other side, suddenly it was clear. Scott really was part of Lydia's clique.

A girl took the seat next to his and a boy to his other side. He felt so out of place, he was much more used to sitting alone with Scott, able to talk and laugh without the eyes of judgment so close. He wasn't sure how much he liked this new set it.

It got even worse when he gave the girl beside him a smile and a nod and was snubbed off like she hadn't grabbed the seat next to his.

He turned to the boy and noticed Danny, strong and gay Danny. Stiles tried sending him a smile and when the response was the same, his feelings of being out of place were actually confirmed. When Jackson came striding close, Stiles honestly just wanted to get up and away from the table of artificial smells and even more artificial smiles.

"Get up." Jackson's voice was ice cold and Stiles wanted to snarl.

"You never ask Danny to get up." The guy at the head of the table complained, gathering his stuff anyways.

"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot." Danny responded with humor and a smile. Okay, maybe not all the smiles in the table were artificial.

That's when Stiles noticed that he hadn't once looked at Lydia's boobs. Yeah, okay, kind of a perverted thought, but he used to drool over her for hours on end like some long lost puppy. He hadn't been doing it anymore for a while. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been jealous of Jackson having his arm around Lydia.

And then then they started discussing the attack and Stiles felt his stomach fall. If they knew the truth they wouldn't even be sitting here with him and Scott…actually. If they knew the truth, he'd probably be the only one avoided, Scott would be off with all of them living the life he'd always dreamed of during his dorky days. The sudden resentment for Scott's bettering asthma and his friend's determination to get better during the summer was shocking and Stiles tried to ignore it fiercely, going through his phone in hopes of finding any new information he could share with Derek later in the night.

He'd found, instead, who the victim was.

"Actually I just found out who it is. Check it out."

Garrison Myers, Scott's old bus drive from when he lived with his dad. What a random connection. Had that just been chance or something? Garrison had been the only man out last night, or had it been planned?

After that, things got a tad bit more interesting for Stiles.

Now, he'd never admit to enjoying the pain and torment of anyone, but Scott was kind of an exception. Watching his best friend struggle with the loss of his 'date' to the status of 'hang out' and the added bonus of Lydia and Jackson AND bowling. It was entertaining, he wouldn't lie.

"You're a terrible bowler!" Stiles called with a slight smile.

"I know!" He heard Scott groan. "I'm such an idiot."

"God." Stiles said, trying so hard not to laugh at his friend's misfortune. "It was like watching a car wreck except ten times more painful. I mean, first it turned into the whole 'group date' thing and then out of nowhere comes that phrase-"

"Hanging out!"

"You don't hang out with hot girls, okay? It's like death. Once it's hanging out and then you might as well be her gay best friend. You and Danny can start hanging out." God he wanted to laugh so bad, but it would be so unsupportive. No matter how Scott had treated his own problems, this was dating. Stiles could understand and sympathize on some level about how important it was at their age. He may be a werewolf, but he is a teenager first, so he keeps his amusement down. And then his thoughts started wondering.

"How is this happening? Why did she have to call it 'hanging out'?"

"I don't think Danny likes me very much." Stiles confided.

Scott was still on his own train tracks. "I asked Allison on a date and now we're hanging out."

"Am I not attractive to gay guys?" For some reason the thought really bothered Stiles. He knew he wasn't that attractive to most straight girls, but gay guys had to be different right? He had to be considered 'attractive' so something, even if he didn't swing that way, otherwise life would just be unfair.

Scott still wasn't listening though. "I made first line and the team captain wants to destroy me, and now…now I'm gonna be late for work." Scott's footsteps went faster, farther away from him and Stiles was disheartened.

"Wait! Scott! You didn't an- Am I attractive to gay guys!? You didn't answer by question…" frustration kicked in as once again he was ignored by his best friend because of Allison.

He felt bad for hating her to some level. Really wasn't her fault that Scott wasn't a loyal trust worthy friend, but still…he couldn't help the white hot surge of anger he wanted to direct and both her and Scott. He felt his claws come and decided to walk away from this. He needed to cool down.

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"Orange and blue."

His eyes raked across the landscape from the very edge of the park, almost hidden by woods as he sat on the fallen-leafs covered floor. "Detail?" He called out to the man standing against a tree just behind him.

"Misaka logo." Derek's voice called out.

That's when Stiles spotted it. "Volleyball, two miles out. Come on Derek, you aren't even trying anymore."

Stiles could practically feel the smirk at his back but he refused to be distracted. They'd been playing this game of theirs for almost three hours, each one calling out the colors of an item so the other one could find it. It was like a long distance, werewolf version of 'I Spy'. The only catch was gauging distance. Stiles had been completely terrible at that part at first, but now it as second nature. He had keen eyes, but depending on the distance, Derek trumped him easily. His better sense, believe it or not, was smell. Given just a couple hours he could track Derek down wherever the older wolf was.

When he found the man sitting on the bench of a park, he'd been a little surprised, he didn't think Derek was one for parks, until Derek explained that it was where he'd take his youngest sister to play.

After that conversation had been tense until Stiles started up their natural game, even going as far to move farther into the tree lines to create more distance between them and the many town life objects.

"Fine then hotshot. Green and red." Derek called again, skipping Stiles turn.

"Whoa, hey, wait for your turn." He argued, even as his eyes scanned over the scenery as fast as he could. It took him longer to find the objects then it had when they played from the Hale house front steps. At least there wasn't much distraction from the Hale house. Here, the park filled with kids and the sheer amount of possible objects were a distraction.

"Detail?"

"Plant."

That gave Stiles something to focus for. A plant. Fruit maybe? He scanned everything still green but found nothing red along with it. "Nothing grows at this time of year." Stiles protested, but that was a shitty excuse.

He was glad when Derek tossed him another bone. "It's in doors."

And that was all he needed, he found it seconds later. "Tomato, four miles out, blue house, dark gray roof. Woman's making salsa." It was more information than he needed for the game, but he figured he would toss in all of that to save some face. He'd needed a second clue after all.

Derek snorted from behind him before a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Yeah, alright. Come on, let's get out of here. It's starting to rain."

"Okay." Stiles used the hand Derek held out to help him up. "I got to get going anyways. I'm checking out the bus tonight."

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. "Want me to come along?"

Suddenly Stiles felt guilty.

"I kinda…I asked Scott to-" and just like that the friendly feeling he had with Derek was gone and just like a wall coming down, the apathy overtook Derek's features.

"Alright. Make sure you know what you're doing." Was all he said before he was gone.

Stiles was left a little empty as he made his way to his jeep. He wasn't sure why, but he hated the feeling of letting Derek down. Of disappointing Derek or anything negative like that. Maybe it was just because all Derek was trying to do was help him and Stiles kept on going back to a shitty ass friend who could never see past his own problems. Come on Stiles, Scott isn't that bad. He's a good friend, he's got a life too it's not all about you.

But sometimes it started to feel like nothing was about him.

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When he called Scott about picking him up, Scott was confused. Stiles had to explain again about the bus, and the driver, and the wolf, but once Scott got it, everything was fine. Until he got there.

"Hey dude, think we can drive Allison home?"

Innocent question really, he couldn't blame Scott for it, he wasn't even opposed to doing it, they had time after all. He regretted his decision the moment they got in the car. Scott didn't sit up front, and neither did Allison. No, both of them were in the back, talking softly and making out. Stiles felt more like a chauffeur than a friend and that was so very irritating.

He felt his claws coming in and out as he breathed. He could only focus on his own breath or the road because if he expanded his senses anymore he would be listening to Allison giggle and argue that they were in Stiles' car and it was rude, and Scott would be saying that it was all okay, Stiles was cool, and Stiles would be about ready to rip both of them to shreds because Allison was right. It was rude and mean and really insensitive.

Scott made first like, Scott got a hot girl, Scott got the popular friends and what was Stiles left with? A werewolf bite, dead bodies, weird dreams, a horny unhelpful best friend, and Derek.

Derek was the only good thing in the whole mess.

Soon enough, they were at Allison's house and Stiles finally confirmed that, yes. Chris Argent is her dad. Her dad shot him in the forearm with a cross bow. His hate for her was rising every day, until…

"Thank you Stiles. I'm sorry about this okay? I'll just drive my car next time. Go spend some time with him." She leaned over the open window and kissed his cheek, and just like that, his anger deflated. He couldn't hate her. She didn't know anything, she obviously didn't know about her father, and she wasn't responsible for the way Scott treated him.

That didn't mean he wasn't mad at Scott though.

The ride to the school was silent and there was tension in the car though mostly it was coming from Stiles. Scott for his part, kept silent because of the way this had gone for him the last time he'd run his mouth off in his friend's car. Being thrown out and having to walk back home wasn't something Scott wanted to repeat any time soon.

When they go to school, it changed.

He had been there. Derek had been wrong, he had been out that night. He had been there because he remembered it, remembered protecting the man and fighting off a beast with glowing red eyes. The Alpha.

They had nearly been caught but that wasn't a big deal. The second they were out of range Stiles had taken the wheel from Scott who gave it reluctantly.

He didn't say anything. Didn't share what he had found out with Scott, even if the human boy kept asking the whole way home. He didn't trust Scott enough, Scott would think Derek had done it. But Stiles knew what had happened, he finally remembered all of that night.

The hunt.

It was the pack initiation that Derek had talked about, the first kill that would change his eyes. The Alpha wanted him in the pack. He almost wanted to be sick.

But he hadn't done it. He hadn't killed, he had protected.

He needed to tell Derek, and so that was where he went the second he dropped Scott off.

"I was there. I was out that night."

His first words as he walked right through the Hale House front door were hardly considered a greeting, but it wasn't like Derek needed one. The older wolf was down the stairs and in front of him in less than a minute and for some reason, Stiles felt like reaching out and touching the other wolf. He needed to reassure himself that this was his pack. Not a psychotic murdering nut job who wants to maim and kill. This person, this other wolf in front of him was pack.

Derek's eyes were frantic and worried. "But your scent wasn't-"

"I think I used my car." Stiles explained. "I didn't use the window, I knew exactly what was going on and I needed to stop it. The Alpha Derek, he wanted to hunt, he pushed me into going for the first hunt. I was supposed to kill that guy."

Maybe Derek saw how shaken Stiles really was. Maybe it was just the thought of someone else claiming his pack mate, whatever the case, Stiles soon found himself once again in Derek's embrace. This one didn't feel nearly as weird and awkward as the first, so he didn't hesitate to wrap his own arms around Derek, rubbing his forehead on a leather clad shoulder. A part of him, the wolf part he realized, was finding a way of getting Derek's scent on him and his scent on Derek. He needed his pack, all one member of it. So he didn't fight it.

He got his hands under the leather jacket, but not the tight black t-shirt, and he rubbed his palms over Derek's back, keeping his face against the man's shoulder.

Derek must have felt the instinct too, because his cheek was rubbing at the side of Stiles' head. Stiles could feel the stubble in a not entirely unpleasant way. Derek's own hands had reached under his own jacket but not his t-shirt.

"He wants you in his pack." Derek's voice was a low growl, his wolf probably close to the surface. Stiles understood why. Pack was family, the loss of a pack member was like the loss of one's own limb, which is what Derek had told him during one of their training sessions. He remember how sad it made him when he thought about how Derek had lost his whole pack, his whole family all in one night. Now he knew what the threat of it felt like.

He didn't want to belong to a pack with a murderer as an Alpha, a pack with no sense of 'family'. That was one of the only things he really wanted now that he was a werewolf, a 'family' oriented pack.

They passed a good amount of time like that. Wrapped up in comfort and support. Neither one really willing to pull away until the other one does. Sure, this pack wasn't really perfect. Hell, they were basically just two Omegas clinging to each other in the hopes of making their situation make some sort of sense, but still. Derek had, in some ways, become a better friend than Scott as of lately. Not to say he could ever forget Scott. They had been through a lot, but it all felt so far away now. Now that Scott had Allison.

"I should-ah…probably go home." Stiles said into Derek's shoulder. He was forcing himself to pull away, slowly as it was. Derek too was retreating, a little faster than Stiles. "My dad's probably wondering where I man and all."

God why was it back to being awkward. So he hugged a dude, big deal, he hugged Scott all the time. Not like that…but maybe that was okay. I used to hug Scott like that.

"Yeah." Derek agreed, his voice not growling but gruff. "Next time you know what's going on, don't go into it alone. Call me. I'll answer. We are pack."

And that word held a lot of meaning in it. That word was both comfort and danger, that one word was the best and the worst thing to Stiles. It was being offered by two different people and while he wanted one, his instinct called for the other.

"Okay." Stiles shook his head. Giving Derek a grin. "Okay."

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The next night, Stiles found himself once again, thanking the gods for creating the darkness. Climbing through Scott's window as so much easier as a wolf, upper body strength or not, his claws helped keep him stead as he pulled the window open just a little more and rolled his way inside. The lights were off and Stiles knew that Scott was on his 'date' with Allison, Lydia, and Jackson, so he would wait. He would sit there in the darkness of his best friend's room in sadness in wait.

What he wasn't expecting was the tall figure standing above him with a bat. He was screaming before he even realized he was, hiding his face so he didn't get hit in an obvious place least he heal standing right there in front of Scott's mom. The screams from Melisa were deafening though, a high pitch that send his head reeling and his eyes shifting. He held it back as best he could until she stopped.

"Stiles! What the hell are you doing here?!"

Stiles was on the edge of his emotions right now. So he snapped back. "What am I doing? God! Do either of you even play baseball?!"

Melisa opened her mouth as if to speak, but the lights turned on and Scott walked in.

"Can you please tell your friend to use the front door?" She rounded to Scott who shrugged his shoulders.

"But we lock front door. He wouldn't be able to get in." He said it like it was obvious, but Stiles actually would have been able to get in, just not quietly.

"Exactly." Melisa argued. "Do either of you even care that there is a police enforced curfew?"

Well, at first, yes. Allison wouldn't have been able to go out with Scott because of it if it weren't for Lydia pushing her to defy her father's orders. So at that moment, the answer was the same for both of them.

"No."

Melisa looked frustrated, but she gave up, like she always did when it came to Stiles and Scott.

"That's enough parenting for me for one night. Goodnight."

Both the boys echoed her sentiment before Scott pulled up his desk chair and asked why Stiles was there. So Stiles told him what he hadn't the night before. Told him what he'd told Derek.

The attack of the man who drove Scott's bus had in fact involved Stiles, but not in the way they had thought. Stiles had been there to protect, in fact, most of the blood in the bus was Stiles' not the victim. He told Scott about pack initiation and the first hunt and the first kill together. Of course, Scott's answer was predictable.

"It was Derek." Scott concluded and Stiles almost gave up right there, but he figured he'd give it one last try.

"Derek's eyes are blue. I've seen him wolf out Scott. These eyes, they were red. Blood red. They were Alpha's eyes, the person who bit me."

"So that's the other wolf you said was in Beacon Hills. Is it only the three of you?" Scott's brows were furrowed and he was giving the whole subject serious thought and Stiles was grateful for that at least.

"Yeah it's just the three of us from what I know. Omegas pass by every once in a while but no other werewolf stays or kills in pack lands that doesn't belong to them. This Alpha, he thinks Beacon Hills is his territory." Stiles explained before sighing deeply.

It didn't go unnoticed and Scott actually asked him what was wrong for once. Stiles felt close to Scott again. Scott was actually listening this time, actually hearing him out and being here, this was what he needed.

"My dad left for the hospital fifteen minutes ago, it's the bus driver. They said he 'succumbed to his wounds'."

Scott's face was sympathetic and shocked all at once.

"Succumbed?" Scott echoed. Stiles felt a little sick to his stomach as he played with his hands. His mind was moving at a mile a minute, he was over-thinking all of this. He felt weak.

"Scott..he's dead."

And suddenly his best friend got it.

"You're not a murderer." Scott said firmly, his eyes hard and trained on Stiles like they were meant to burn him. But Stiles just felt cold.

"Yeah man…I am."

Scott shook his head fiercely, "You're not! Derek is! He killed the guy, he killed his sister! He's going to kill you too Stiles you have to-"

"Derek didn't do it Scott!" He growled at his friends face, his teeth bared, his claws out and his face furry.

Scott was surprised at first. Scared and confused, but then he looked closer at Stiles as the werewolf inside of him calmed down, and suddenly Scott was smiling.

"You didn't kill anyone." He said breathlessly. Certainty and conviction in his voice.

"How do you know?!" Stiles growled back.

Scott pointed to his face, no wait, his eyes.

"They aren't blue man. You haven't killed anyone or anything, your eyes are still golden yellow."

It was disarming. The moment of devastating silence before his body sagged in relief like the breathe was knocked out of him. Scott was right, his eyes would change if he had killed. If he was part of the murderer Alpha's pack, his eyes would have changed. And just like that he flew towards his friend, his arms coming around Scott in a bone crushing hug before he pulled away and was gone, a quick whispered "Thank you." On his lips.

He made his way straight to Derek.

But when he found him to tell him, Derek already knew. In fact –

"I think I killed him." Derek's expression was odd and it took Stiles aback.

And now it was Scott's turn to echo in his mind.

"He killed the guy, he killed his sister! He's going to kill you too Stiles"