Derek sighed as he saw Dean's Impala pulling in. He kept his head down hoping Dean would just ignore him, as he really wasn't in the mood after what had just happened. No such luck.

"Turn around, pal, we need to have a talk." Derek rolled his eyes, letting his head loll back in done-ness, as Dean didn't bother to not bump into him as he passed.

"Can we do this another time? I'm not in the mood for another threatening speech right now." Derek asked, exhausted. But Dean stopped a few feet away, evidently waiting for him.

"Nope." Derek's sigh was almost a growl, as his irritation grew. "Don't worry, most of it won't be threatening." Derek just shook his head, turning to Dean.

"Look, I'm exhausted, I just want to head home and take a nap in my car. Okay? Whatever it is, it can wait." Derek didn't want to be rude, but he thought maybe a bit of insistence would get through to Dean.

"Isn't that gonna be kinda hard without your keys?" Dean jingled a set of keys in his hand. Derek checked his pocket, and of course, his keys were gone.

"The hell, man!" Derek spat with annoyance as Dean walked off towards the house. "Dean, seriously!" Derek shouted as he followed. Dean turned back to him once he opened the door, making him stop in his tracks.

"Just shut up and get in here for five freaking minutes and you can do what the fuck you want." Dean stepped in, leaving the door open for him to follow, and after a few seconds he gave in, not really having a choice. He shut the door behind him.

"What's up?" Stiles asked inquisitively, looking between them. Derek gave an annoyed look.

"He stole my keys."

"Dean!" Stiles cried as if scolding him. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Will you both calm down for a damn minute?! Jesus, you act like I want him in my house!" Neither were any less annoyed, but stopped to listen. "Now. Stiles, we were very much hoping you wouldn't need to know about this anytime soon, but it's pretty apparent that's not the case…" He looked to Derek. "And since you are apparently going to be spending time here, we figured you should have access too. Both of you, follow me…" Dean headed for the dining room. Derek and Stiles looked to each other before reluctantly going after him. By the time they caught up with him, he was standing at the basement door. "Listen up. I've had keys made for you both. There are only keys for the top two. There's no key for the other two. Not even me or Cas have one. When you leave, as long as you're sure no one's down there, lock all three locks that you can. The last one only locks from the other side. Lock it and the only way to open it from this side is to pick the lock. Only use it in an emergency when you think who or whatever after you could have a key. We clear?" Stiles nodded, but Derek stared, brows furrowed in confusion. Dean looked at him. "What?"

"N-No, I-I get it, I just- What the hell is this?" He asked non-rhetorically. Dean just rolled his eyes.

"That's next. Come on." The light came on the second Dean unlocked and opened the door, and once the two of them were in, Dean turned and locked two of the locks. Dean went by them to go down first, and they shared a glance to each other before following him still. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they saw two archways, a metal door right beside them at the bottom, a doormat under their feet, and besides the strange rooms surrounding them and a drain in the middle of the floor with a reddish-brown stain that Derek thought vaguely smelt like blood, it seemed like a normal basement, with normal basement things. A step stool, some rotating fans, a hot water tank, a fuse box, and so on. Dean took a look through the two archways then turned back to them. "This... is the safest place on Earth. The president doesn't have a safe room this safe. Down here is anything you could possibly need to protect yourself." He motioned them over to the archway next to the metal door. Inside that room was a large table with laptops at each seat, a number of wardrobes and dressers, and shelves of books on the walls. "This is the research room. Books on just about every creature across just about every folklore on the planet and then some. We even have a book to help you find the book you need, indexed by creature name, MO, and appearance." Dean patted a thick grey binder sitting on the table. Dean moved over to the other archway, which they could already see, a room full of storage containers, cabinets, safes, weapon racks, and more. Derek noticed more of the reddish stains around the room too, but the drain in the middle of that room was unstained. He was sure it was blood now, though from what he couldn't discern. He decided to just stick to Stiles' side. Stiles didn't notice the blood stains, and took Derek's hand, figuring he was getting jumpy because of the guns. Dean nodded to the room. "This is basically our armoury. In here is everything you need to kill or ward off anything or anyone who might be trying to kill you for any reason." Dean walked in, over to a white binder, just as thick as the other, sitting on a filing cabinet. "We have another directory for in here. It will tell you what effects what you're using has on various creatures, but they aren't indexed by it, so if you need to know what to use on something, use the directory in the other room, any books highlighted red will have info on how to kill the specific creature." Dean opened a large first aid cupboard on the wall above the filing cabinet, pulling out a box of dust masks and a pair of safety goggles. "Some of the stuff in here will be dangerous to get anywhere," He nodded to Derek. "Especially for you and Scott. We have gloves too. General rule is, if you don't know it won't hurt you, use protection…" Dean gave a thinking look. "Which is honestly just a good rule in general." Dean motioned for them to come in as he went over to a storage cabinet and opened it. "Basic stuff you'll probably need to know: We've got bags of salt in here, make a ring of it or spread it across entryways and it'll keep out ghosts and demons. That's why all of the doors and windows in the house are salted." Derek and Stiles followed him over to a set of smaller cupboards, Dean took out a few big labeled jars of colored powder, he patted the jars. "Humans should not ingest these at all ever. Do not inhale them, do not eat them, I'd suggest not getting them anywhere. They will do terrible things to you. Mostly death. For werewolves and shit, the effects are a bit more varied, details on the jars, yada yada." Dean paused for a beat to put on his best stern attitude, pointing at Derek warningly. "I'm gonna tell you this right now, and I'm sure as hell gonna tell Scott later. Do not use any of these to get drunk or high. It's dangerous and unhealthy, and I can and will lock you in in the safe room alone til you sober up."

"Sounds like something you've had to do before…" Derek said, brow raised. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Cas' vessel's daughter thought it would be fun to try. It wasn't. She tried to pick up a full library sized bookshelf." Derek was a bit surprised Dean actually had werewolves he was friendly with, but nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry, I have my own ways, and I really don't drink much…" He looked around, shifting uncomfortably. "Are we done here then?" Dean shook his head, unfortunately.

"We've still got the safe room, come on." Dean slipped past them, and Derek tried not to sigh in aggitation as they followed. In all actuality, this was a pretty nice gesture considering this was Dean Winchester. The least he could do was stick around a bit longer. But the hairs on his spine were still all prickly. Dean stopped at the thick metal door next to the research room, and opened it with the large circular hatch like handle that made it look it was ripped off an old boat or submarine or something. Inside was a bed, and a small desk. The room wasn't very big. "The door and walls are all iron, treated with holy oil, salt, and other shit to ward off just about anything. It's basically impossible to get in or out of. Inside there's a switch just like this one." He pointed to a circular switch, a pentagram carved into the metal under it. "They seal off the door so the handle can't open it. And that's about it. Only a handful of beings can get into this, and we're friends with most of them." Dean closed the door. Stiles crossed his arms, sighing.

"Are we done now?" He asked impatiently. Dean crossed his arms back at him, looking between them.

"Okay. What the hell's wrong with you two? You were supposed to go out and have a nice fun time. Why're you both in a mood?" Dean asked with a health amount of irritation and concern. Derek looked to Stiles as Stiles sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Nothing, we're not-" Stiles shook his head, too exhausted to bother at this point. "Some idiot was driving on the wrong side of the road on the way home and almost hit us. We're fine though, by some miracle we got out of the way." Dean took that in for a moment, waiting out the outrage of them almost getting hurt, until he was calm enough to just be glad they were alright. He nodded to Derek.

"Well, at least you put those reflexes to good use, huh?" Dean noted the suspicious look the two gave each other, but didn't say anything.

"One use for them. Can I get my keys back now?" Derek sounded a bit more exasperated than polite, but Dean slipped a smaller keyring onto his, two new keys hanging off it. He handed them back,only to turn and head for the stairs. Derek and Stiles looked to each other, but both decided it was best not to question it, following back to the door gladly. Dean looked over his shoulder as he took out his own keys.

"You should really get a motel room or something if you're gonna be sticking around." Once he realized Dean meant him (obviously), Derek shrugged uncomfortably at the subject.

"Been thinking about it." He lied. He had no interest in getting a guest room anywhere. He didn't know why, but it made him tense just thinking about it. He didn't want to feel like a visitor in the town that was supposed to be his home. That should have been his home. Staying in a hotel would be even more uncomfortable than sleeping on whatever he could in his burnt down home was. He'd considered an apartment, but he hadn't had much time to look yet. Dean pulled at the knob, but it didn't open. He stared confused at the locks, then put his key back in the top lock. He pulled again. Still locked. He unlocked the top lock again since it obviously wasn't the problem. He examined the set of locks again before taking out his phone.

"Who's home right now? B'sides us." Stiles scratched the back of his head, as Derek just tried to wait patiently.

"No one? Well Luc, I guess, but he's off in the backyard somewhere I think." Dean sighed, putting his phone away and pulling at the door again before calling past it gruffly.

"Lucifer! Unlock the damn door, you feathery dick!" There was no response, and for some reason, the silence felt creepy. The return of Dean's yelling nearly made Derek jump. "Lucifer! Open the fucking door!" Just a second later, Derek could hear footsteps in the house. After a few more, a voice answered.

"Dean? Where are you?" Dean just gave an annoyed shake of his head and yanked at the handle again. The steps to the door were quick. "Hold on a second." The locks were messed with a bit before the door finally opened. Dean was quick to storm into the dining room in a huff. Stiles and Derek followed pretty swiftly.

"That's not funny, asshole. Don't fuck with the basement door."

"What?" Lucifer's face was 3 parts confused and 1 part offended. "What are you even talking about?" Dean scoffed.

"Don't play dumb, okay? You finally figured out pranks. Adorable. But don't fuck with the basement door."

"I didn't do anything to your door. I wasn't even here, you ignorant little ape!" Lucifer motioned to a small bundle of flowers on the table to prove his point. The two continued to argue as Stiles pulled Derek into the living room, apparently more used to that than him.

"That-... Should we tell him about…?" Derek asked apprehensively. Stiles just sighed.

"Yeah, I'll tell him. Sorry again, for the stress."

"You don't have to apologize, Stiles. I had a great time." Derek lazily pet Juliet as she came over to them again.

"Besides almost dying and literally getting locked in my creepy murder basement?" Stiles asked, quirking a disingenuous smile.

"Well," Derek chuckled. "It could've been worse… At least we got to spend some time together. Right?" Stiles' smile got wider, and a little more genuine. He stepped forward, arms quick to rest around Derek's neck, and Derek wasn't sure which one of them actually leaned in for the kiss, but his hands were on Stiles' hips, and they were both smiling, and it only stopped because they both laughed like idiots.