Three

"Derek!?" Stiles had not expected that to be who stood there. If it weren't Scott he wouldn't have even had a guess who it could have been. Though, admittedly, Derek was probably the last person he would have expected.

Now that he looked at the guy, Stiles realized he should have noticed it sooner. Scott never wore leather jackets, after all. And Scott's hair wasn't always perfectly coiffed. And Scott didn't have a beard. He was going to blame the panic for not having seen it. Yeah, that sounded right. Adrenaline and everything.

The not-bear must have run off after the fight, all the biting and snarling Stiles had heard. All that remained was a panting, wounded, and slightly bloody Derek on the other side of the Jeep. Swallowing hard in an attempt to calm his pounding heart he hesitated for a few moments longer with his hand on the door handle. Did Derek scare off the not-bear? Or did he hurt it? Or was there something more to all of this? How badly had it hurt Derek? Stiles didn't know; what he did know was that Derek was like Scott. Werewolf. The pointed ears, claws, tufts of hair on his cheeks, had all been pretty good indicators of that.

The other thing he knew for sure was that there was no way Scott knew Derek was a werewolf. If Scott had known, Stiles would have known. He and Scott had talked about it countless times: the fact that there was no one else inside of Beacon Hills like him. Stiles eyed the elder boy through both windows, wondering why-and how-Derek had kept it a secret from Scott. Unless.. Scott were keeping it a secret from him? No, he refused to believe that.

After another moments hesitation, Stiles released his grip on the door handle, his hands fell heavily to his sides. He'd wondered, briefly, if he were going to need to make some quick escape or dive in the Jeep to hide. Where the hell he was going to go with his tire blown out, he wasn't sure. If the decidedly vicious not-bear returned, however, he might need somewhere to hide. After a short pause he took a step away from the Jeep before walking around the front toward Derek. Who was now watching him closely, a strange look in his eyes.

Stiles looked over the wounds on the guy, the ones he could see anyway. A few deep slashes across his stomach that left his tight, grey shirt in tatters. He'd been cut somewhere on the top of his head and a small stream of tracked ran down his left temple, disappearing into his beard. Another trail of blood ran down his right arm from a wound Stiles couldn't see. Probably on his shoulder or chest. He knew his expression must had flickered somewhere between concern and irritation, just judging by the look Mr. Eyebrows kept giving him. "What the hell was that?" Stiles asked, waving a hand toward where the black mass had vanished, or where he'd thought it had anyway.

Those eyebrows danced upward in what Stiles could clearly read as 'duh'. "You already know what it was, Stiles."

That prickling sensation started on the back of his neck again. The sense of being watched by more than just Derek. The one that sent tingles down to his fingers and toes. Stiles swallowed thickly and turned his gaze around the space, into the darkness on either side of the road, though saw nothing at all. Nothing out of the ordinary anyway. "Why were it's eyes red? Wait, wait, wait. Who was it?"

"I don't know who it was, exactly." Derek took the time to peer around as well, like he could pick up on something Stiles couldn't see or hear.. or smell. It only furthered that paranoid feeling he had. "It's the Alpha."

Stiles stared back, eyes narrowed. Alpha. He'd done quite a bit of research into werewolves before he'd been convinced that was what Scott was dealing with. In all of that he'd learned that every 'pack' had an Alpha wolf. The one that the rest converged around, protected, followed. Until tonight, they'd thought it was some fluke that Scott had even been turned. "There's more werewolves in Beacon Hills besides Scott.." This was muttered to himself, a realization.

Derek raised his brows again, his attention shifting back to Stiles in an almost annoyed way. "A lot more." Looking at Stiles he seemed to read what the younger teen was thinking. He paused a moment, then said, "you cannot tell Scott that I am."

"Are you kidding me?! He needs to know. He's been freaking out thinking, thinking he's all alone in this, he should know that he's noo-oo-oot!" The word was drawn out in the form of a surprised yelp when Derek suddenly gripped the front of his shirt and shoved him forcefully against the Jeep. Which in turn elicited a whine. "Holy crap.."

"Scott doesn't need to know." Derek's eyes flashed that brighter blue when the worlds were practically growled out.

Stiles nearly shuddered under the weight of that glare. Instead, he inhaled sharply and reached up. He tapped at Derek's hands while staring at the bearded face that was much, much too close. Yet, somehow Stiles found he wouldn't have complained if the guy were even closer. A thought that was shoved determinedly toward the back of his mind. "Look, big guy. Unless you intend to maim or kill me. I'm telling him." His voice came out much stronger than he currently felt.

Derek stared back, but didn't let go. If anything Stiles was sure he felt the grip tighten just a bit more. Perhaps that was his imagination. What did happen was that Derek's glower darkened before he suddenly bristled. His pale gaze snapped away from Stiles to look somewhere over his shoulder, as though on high alert. "You need to get out of here, Stiles." His voice low, almost a whisper.

"How? Did you forget that I don't have a freaking tire?"

A growl resonated in response from the other male. Stiles tried to ignore the sudden uptick in his heart at the sound. "Call a tow truck."

Derek wasn't looking at him, scoping out there surroundings, while he released his hold on Stiles' shirt and took as minimal of a step back as he possibly could. Which still left him insanely close. Even now, he appeared to be searching for something that Stiles couldn't detect. That knowledge sent another little chill up his spine. He plunged his hand into his pocket to grasp his phone, then scrolled through google to find someplace still open to tow him.

As he recounted the need for assistance to the operator his gaze didn't leave Derek. Watching the way that he stood almost on guard, with his eyes narrowed into the distance. The call, in total, only lasted about three minutes. Just long enough to make sure the woman knew where he was and what sort of vehicle they were looking for. Not like the Jeep could be missed in the middle of the freaking road.

"She said it'd be about twenty minutes."

"I heard." Derek glanced back toward him, a hint of amusement in his, once more, green eyes. Stiles brows furrowed for only a second before it dawned on him. Again.

"Right, wolf hearing." He looked back at his phone, staring between the contacts 'Dad' and 'Scott'. The urge to call either, or both, of them strong. Lips twisting in a frown, his thumb hovered over 'Scott'. Just before he could drop it onto the screen, however, Derek reached out and pulled it from his hand. Had he anticipated that he might have had a more firm grip on it.

"Not Scott." Derek's tone much firmer than Stiles' hold had been.

When Stiles made a move to take his phone back Derek lifted it over his head in the worst game of keep-away ever. He and Derek were nearly the same height, but he knew the wolf was faster. By far. Not to mention stronger. Still, Stiles' made an futile reach for it and Derek only held it higher.

"Give me one good reason. And it needs to be an insanely good one. Scott's my best friend. Besides," a thought only now occurred to him, "who's to say you're not the one who turned him?"

The indignation apparent as he fully settled his attention on Stiles. "Only an Alpha can turn someone." Derek didn't allow his eyes to linger much longer than that before they were once more swiveling about. "I want to be the one to tell him. In my own way. In my own time. I was trying to find out who the Alpha was first, figure out if it was someone trustworthy. Though given its history, I'm not inclined to think so." Derek released a sigh of annoyance. After a few moments he gave Stiles only the barest warning glance then held the phone out to him.

Confident that it would be taken away again if he tried to call Scott, he instead called his father. Stiles looked up and down the deserted street as he spoke to the man, who was currently busy dealing the break-in at the Pharmacy. After reassuring his father that he was fine, that a tow truck was on the way, and that there wasn't a need to worry he hung up again. He may have lied to his dad, too. Told him the tire had just blown out, that he was alone. He didn't need him worrying any more than he already did. That could only make things worse.

When he'd hung up this time, he noticed that Derek was still standing almost uncomfortably close. So much so that he could smell the guys soap, tinged with the blood that still seeped in varied places. The faint coppery smell caused him to inspect Derek a little more intently. "Shouldn't, uh, shouldn't those have healed already?" He asked, leaning closer to him so he could see the wound at his shoulder more clearly. Stiles had seen plenty of Scott's wounds heal over in a matter of minutes. They'd been standing there for nearly a half an hour and blood still oozed from them.

Derek responded by angling his body away so that Stiles couldn't see them as easily. "Wounds from an Alpha take longer to heal."

"Then, I don't know, maybe it's not a good idea if you're standing here when the tow truck pulls up? Might raise some questions about what happened to you."

He stared back incredulously. "How are you planning to get home?"

"Oh! Uh. I guess I hadn't thought of that..? I could, maybe, call my dad back?" Or Scott. Apparently that thought must have shown on his face because Derek stared at him in a way that said he could read right into his freaking soul. It sent a little shiver up his spine.

"I'll make sure you get home safely." Derek almost grunted the response.

No other vehicles had passed since they stood there, so when Stiles saw headlights in the distance he assumed it was the tow truck. Sure enough, only a few moments later and the low rumble of it announced its approach, along with the decal reading Snyder's Towering across the front. Stiles turned his attention toward it before glancing back to Derek. Or. Where Derek had just been standing. Dude was a freaking ninja. Stiles could see Derek's Camaro parked a short distance away and the soft purr it emitted suddenly told him that the guy was already inside and waiting. The truck pulled ahead of the Jeep and it's driver climbed down. A middle aged thin brunette with a cigarette between his lips. Stiles wrinkled his nose at the smoke that was blown toward him.

"Got a place in mind you want it towed?" The man asked while writing on the silver clipboard in his other hand. He looked at the tire, then leaned toward the windshield. Collecting the VIN, Stiles ascertained.

"Wherever is closest? And preferably cheapest..." Stiles countered, the bill for towing alone was likely to wipe out what little savings he had. A frown etched onto his lips as he looked back at his precious Jeep. So banged up. Of course, it was always a bit dinged and in need of serious repair. Stiles had been attempting to learn how to fix it; for the most part he didn't think he did too horribly with it either. Although duct taping everything didn't qualify him as a mechanic in any way.

After discussing his insurance information with the driver, learning where it would be towed, and forking over the deposit fee-the rest would be billed to him-Stiles heaved a sigh and walked the short distance to Derek's car while the driver hooked the Jeep up. With a resigned stare in the mirror at his Roscoe he turned away as Derek put the car into drive and hit the gas.

–

The drive to his house was short enough, though it seemed profoundly longer as Derek sat stoically silent the entire way. Stiles drummed his hands on his thighs to have something to do with them. A tuneless rhythm that made sense in his head. He didn't realize it was bothering Derek until the elder teen looked over at him with widened eyes. "Stiles." His tone was a little harsh.

Stiles jumped, startled since Derek had been so quiet. "Hmm?" Oblivious to the fact that he was being irritating. Although he shouldn't have been. Many people thought he was.

He glared pointedly between Stiles face and tapping hands."Do you ever stop moving?"

"Um.. no. Not really. No. Even the Adderall doesn't seem to help. The last doctor was astounded that I'm on such a high dose and it barely seems to affect me. Although, that's probably bec-"

"Stiles. Shut up." It wasn't said maliciously, so that was something.

"I, er.. right." He pursed his lips before dropping heavily back against the seat just as they pulled into his driveway. Finally, he thought. Derek was great to look at, but seemed to be shit when it really came to actual conversation. Heaving a sigh, Stiles reached for the door handle but just before he could open it Derek locked the doors. "Ummm, kinda need to get out, man. Oh, right, rude. Thanks for the ride, Derek."

Those expressive eyebrows went up, green eyes staring at Stiles as though he were an idiot. After only a second Derek shook his head. "I just want to make sure you're not going to talk to Scott before I have a chance to."

Stiles stared in open-mouthed frustration. He wanted nothing more than to tell Scott, but Derek had saved his ass tonight. And Derek was asking nicely. Or as nicely as he seemed to be able. An exasperated sigh escaped him as his hands flopped uselessly into the air before smacking loudly against his thighs. "Okay! Okay, I won't tell him. But you have one week, that's it, one before I do."

Derek eyed him skeptically, as if debating whether or not he could trust him. Stiles had a feeling that the guy didn't often have faith in much of anyone. After a minute of silence he nodded and unlocked the door but Stiles didn't immediately make a move to get out. Instead, he stared up at the house then shifted his focus back onto Derek's angular features.

"I have questions."

The elder male exhaled a resigned sigh, like he should have expected it but was hoping it wouldn't come. Stiles was far too used to that sound from his father, indulging him when he would rather be doing anything else. Derek shifted in the drivers seat to rest his back against his own door door. A hand waved, signaling Stiles to ask whatever he'd wanted.

"Okay, so the alpha has red eyes. Why are Scott's yellow and yours are blue?"

"Betas have golden, not yellow, eyes. When we take an innocent life they turn blue to reflect the impurity."

Stiles head canted to the side, studying the other male. For a moment he contemplated whether or not he should be afraid since the guy had just basically admitted to murder, but nothing about the way Derek observed him incited fear. "Who-" he immediately thought better of it-because really, he didn't want to know-and instead asked, "were you bitten like Scott?"

"No, I was born a wolf. My whole family was wolves."

Stiles was painfully reminded that Derek had lost almost all of them. His raised hand raised so that he could chew at the skin around his nail for a second. "How many other wolves are in Beacon Hills?"

"I don't know. Some werewolves can hide their scent from others so it's impossible to tell right away. Besides myself and Scott? I know of at least 5, including the Alpha"

"Wait, hide their scent. How? Is that how Scott doesn't know you're one?"

"No." He actually chuckled. Stiles couldn't help noticing the way Derek's green hues lit up when he did, coupled with the gleam of white teeth against the dark beard around his mouth. It was almost a mesmerizing combination. Thankfully he didn't gawk. "Scott still hasn't learned how to tell much of anything without seeing or hearing anything that gives it away. I can't describe how it can be done.. because I haven't learned how to do it."

Nodding, Stiles shifted himself a bit, fidgeting with his hands. His warm gaze looked over Derek while thinking about the next question. "So, the Alpha tonight.. you, uh, you don't know him? Like, you couldn't pick up a scent or something?"

Derek went quiet now, either because he was unsure of the answer or didn't want to give the one he had. He looked out the window behind Stiles, watching the empty street. Another minute passed before he finally shook his head. "The only thing I picked up from it was anger. Pure, raw fury. I don't know who it was, though, it wasn't a scent I'm familiar with."

Stiles already knew that werewolves could detect certain emotions through scent, Scott had told him about it before. What he did know was either from Scott or his own research. Which, still wasn't much. Reading through the many articles and postings online were hardly counted as fact. Especially considering none of them even mentioned the glowing eyes. Besides that, he was willing to bet that the majority of them weren't written by anyone who actually knew about werewolves.

"Anything else?" Derek asked, bringing Stiles back around.

He didn't realize that he'd spaced out. Although it was something he was prone to doing. There was another question that had been burning in him since he'd found out it was an Alpha who'd attacked his poor Jeep. Stiles refused to admit that it was fear that had kept him from asking it. Now that he had the ability to ask someone, how could he not? "Why did it come after me tonight?"

If Stiles thought Derek had fallen silent before it was nothing compared to the one that stretched between them now. The elder teens eyes had taken off a far off quality, like he was really thinking about the answer. For the first time since he'd met him the guy actually looked uncomfortable. Was it because he knew something or the lack of knowledge bothered him. Stiles flicked a glance toward the clock on the dash, it'd been nearly three minutes since he'd asked.

It was also getting late. Then again, being summer, it wasn't as though anyone had any plans to turn in at any sort of decent time. Now that the adrenaline was wearing down, Stiles found he was actually feeling a little drained. Finally, Derek gave himself a soft shake that Stiles caught out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know. It might be looking for a new beta, or maybe it just wanted to rip and tear into something. Maybe it liked the way you smelled or the sound of your Jeep annoyed it. I don't know why It came for you." Derek looked toward Stile's fidgeting hands instead of focusing on his face.

Stiles pulled a face and shook his head. "I wish I had some idea. Having some beast just barreling at me was more than a little unsettling." Seeing the way Derek prickled at that made him frown, "I didn't say you."

Derek's tone was harder this time. "It's the same 'beast' as I am."

Stiles scoffed, "really? Because it looked, to me, like that thing was ready to try and tear my head off with the damage it did to my Jeep. If you didn't notice, you were there to make sure it didn't. I don't quite think that's the same thing." He noted that Derek's expression didn't change. Which caused him to roll his eyes before a thought struck him; he instead scrutinized the guy across from him. "Wait. Why were you there?"

After flashing a glance at the clock Derek cleared his throat and adjusted himself in his seat, this time sitting in a way that suggested he was ready to drive away. "It's late, Stiles."

Even with the clear dismissal Stiles didn't make a move to get out. He was used to people deflecting questions. And also used to pestering until he got an answer out of them. "Why were you there, Derek?"

"Get out."

"Why were you there?"

A growl resounded from the man, his eyes flashed brighter. Still, Stiles didn't get out of the car. His heart did beat a little faster, an anatomical response to the threat, but he didn't truly feel afraid. He knew he should have. He'd seen the claws and fangs. Derek could shred him to pieces with only a few swipes of his hands. It was nothing short of stupidity that kept Stiles firmly planted in that seat, his jaw set and eyes narrowed. Honestly, it was like looking death in the face without reacting. He was betting that his refusal to move coupled with the lack of fear irked Derek more than the guy would admit.

"I have other things to do, Stiles. Get. Out."

"Not until you tell me why-"

Derek let loose another growl, glaring in Stiles' direction. "Don't make me force you."

His nose wrinkled angrily before throwing his hands up. "Fine! Fine." Without further protest he shoved the door open and leaped out. After he'd slammed it behind him Stiles started the walk up toward his house, as he walked he said, "wonder what Scott's up to right now.."

His foot had just hit the bottom step on the porch and the next thing he knew he was spun around and pushed roughly against the front door. This was the second time tonight Derek had manhandled his way into Stiles' personal space. Between that primal growl from the elder teen and their close proximity it sent a chill through him that had absolutely nothing to do with fear.

Good, god, there was no reason he should have enjoyed that. Stiles found his gaze darting back and forth from Derek's bright eyes to his lips.

"Kidding! Geez!" Stiles put his hands up in surrender, unable to stop the higher pitch his voice had taken.

A quiet snarl escaped Derek before he shoved just a little harder at Stiles' chest. Derek huffed, then stepped back. "I was keeping an eye on you."

"Why?" His hands came up to straighten his shirt once more. The elder males hands balled up at his sides, Stiles noticed. He also saw that Derek had tensed considerably. This made him watch the other a bit more skeptically, a brow shifting upward as his eyes narrowed. "Derek..? Why were you keeping an eye on me?"

"Because I think the Alpha is targeting you."

"Hold on. Let's take that back about three freaking steps because.. what?! Me? Targeting me? Why?"

Derek's expressive brows knitted together while shrugging one shoulder upward. "I don't know, but I've noticed that scent around you since the moment you moved here."

Stiles shook his head in confusion. "What scent?

"That fury that I picked up from the Alpha tonight, I sensed it the same night we were moving you in, I picked up on it when I saw you and Scott at the diner a few days ago, I've noticed it around the lacrosse field when you've been out there." Derek recounted each time with ease. He apparently didn't notice the growing horror that flooded Stiles features.

"I'm sorry. You mean to tell me that you've been following me around?" Somehow it was easier to focus on the fact that Derek had been trailing him versus the Alpha. At least this person had a name and a face.

Derek's eyes rolled ever so slightly, as though Stiles had asked a stupid question and he were begging the universe for patience with him. "Not you specifically. I'm trying to track the Alpha."

Stiles brows perked in amusement. Perhaps it was the sheer terror at the idea of the Alpha tracking him that sort of forced his mind to find something comical in all of this. It alleviated the dread a little. His tone dripped in sarcasm, that classic Stiles Stilinski default. When things got bad or hectic or even the slightest bit inconvenient, turn toward sarcasm. "Who is currently tailing me. Awesome. Because I needed some other reason not to sleep at night!"

"It's also one more reason for you not to involve Scott."

"Really? Because I think it sounds the prefect reason to involve him!"

"Not until I know more." Derek turned and walked quickly down the steps. He made it to his open car door before he looked back and glared at Stiles. He raised a finger to point threateningly, "I mean it. No Scott."

Stiles frowned, then rolled his eyes upward in defeat. "Fine!" His arms flung outward, then flopped at his sides again. He'd barely gotten the word out and Derek was already dropping into the Camaro. After watching the car pull out of the driveway and drive off down the street he released a heavy sigh. Shaking his head, Stiles pushed open the door, making sure to lock it behind him. He had a pretty good feeling that sleep wasn't going to come easy again tonight. Regardless of how tired he might have been earlier.