Zero.

Derek Hale sighed, checking his wrist for the fourth time in twenty minutes. The number glowing just under his skin did not change. It didn't blink or fizzle or wiggle. It was solid and steady.

Across the room, his sister rolled her eyes and glanced at her own wrist, only she was looking at a watch like a normal person, like Derek usually would be doing. They'd been in this room for almost an hour, and while there were two comfortable couches and a very tiny kitchen set up, they had been standing the whole time. They were waiting for their clients to meet with them, but a meeting or something must have run late because the Hale siblings weren't used to waiting this long.

On a normal day, Derek would be annoyed down to his bones at being made to wait. Business clients were supposed to be professional and prompt, not an hour behind schedule. An hour behind schedule could mean disaster or an emergency, and it was literally the Hale family business to stop disaster and emergency.

But today, Derek was distracted. Truth be told, he'd been distracted for a week, but it was no better today than any of the previous days. He glanced down at his wrist again, staring at the number.

"Derek, if you don't stop staring at your numbers, you'll burn them into your skin permanently," his sister warned.

"Good. Then they won't disappear and leave me guessing," Derek answered back. "Anyway I remember when your numbers zeroed out and you basically walked around shoving your wrist in front of every new person you met... not that I'm judging."

"Bite me, Derek," she growled.

"When and where, Laura?" he growled back. "I'm allowed to be a little nervous."

Every child was born with the numbers. Scientists had been researching them for as long as humans had the ability to care about the strange countdowns on their wrists. It had to do with the aura-sphere, an invisible but very real stream of energy surrounding the planet. Science had proven decades ago that all life on the planet contained traces of the aura-sphere, and the numbers on each person's wrist were caused by a high concentration of that energy.

"Not today, you aren't. Not now. We're meeting our clients any minute and I will not have you checking your wrist every five seconds like a love sick teenager or a horny old man. We're professionals." Laura pushed off from where she was leaning against the wall and straightened the shirt on her pant suit. Her long, dark hair was tied up so masterfully in an up-do that it appeared as though she only had enough for a neat bun. "We can freak out about your lack of time later."

"I'd kind of like to freak out about it never, but since you brought it up, we are about to meet at least twelve new people and-" Derek started but Laura shushed him and the door to the room opened.

Into the waiting room walked a curly haired woman with tan skin. Her black hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and her colorful shirt looked wrinkled, but it could have just been the pattern design. Behind her was a younger man with the same tan skin as the woman but his dark hair was cut too close to tell if it was curly or not. Laura gave Derek a look that meant she was thinking exactly what he was. They were related.

"Laura and Derek Hale," the woman greeted with a tired smile. "I'm Melissa McCall. Your mother and I spoke on the phone. Oh- that sounds kind of informal. Sorry. Your boss and I spoke on the phone. Better?"

Laura laughed. "Don't worry about it, Ms. McCall. We get it all the time. Family business. Just have to get used to it."

"Oh good. Well anyway, I'm pretty sure I swore your mother to secrecy about who you're escorting tonight, so as Tour Manager, let me be the first to welcome you to the 'Just My Style' Tour team," Melissa said, bowing slightly. "We are so thankful to have you with us."

"Just-" Laura's jaw dropped. "Wow, I'm not supposed to care because it's my job, but we're guarding a Stilinski? Someone give me a glass of water. I may need to go on a run." She had started breathing quickly and Derek tossed her a water bottle from the table beside him, which she caught almost without looking. After taking a few gulps, she sighed and looked sheepish. "I'm so sorry. I just-"

"Yeah forgive her," Derek interrupted. "The Stilinskis are just the only singers she has any interest in whatsoever. Separate or together. Mom probably should have warned her." He looked pointedly at his sister. "So unprofessional," he scolded. In response, she almost chucked the bottle back at him, but then she decided to drink the water instead.

Instead of glaring at their radically unprofessional reactions, Melissa was chuckling. "Oh, no worries. Talia told me all about it. I thought 'why not?' and requested you as soon as I heard. Not every day you get to meet your idols, right? And don't worry. Stiles isn't one of those self-obsessed stars. He's just... well he's a lot like a teenager."

"That's because he is one," Laura said, and she and Melissa shared some laughter and smiles before the forgotten occupant in the room cleared his throat and Melissa jumped.

"Oh, right! Sorry! Laura, Derek, this is my son, Scott. He's my assistant manager for Stiles. He'll be the liaison between you and most of the crew." She stepped back to let them all shake hands and nodded at Scott afterwards like she was complimenting his ability to do so. "And on a more serious note, this first show is sort of a trial run. The Hales are a very highly recommended security firm, but the Argents heard we were hiring you and they're offering to do the tour for half the price just to kick you guys out. Honestly, I'd rather use your family, but you know... you gotta impress more than just me tonight."

"No problem, Ms. McCall," Laura said, capping the bottle. "You've never had a better crew than the Hale family."

"That's what I like to hear."

It looked like Melissa was about to say something more, but then someone crashed into the wall outside and there was a short cry of pain. Without missing a beat, Scott darted out into the hall, as though he were the security guard and not Derek or Laura. He was barely gone a second when he called out, "Mom!"

"Excuse me a second," Melissa said, but her face had fallen into severe concern and neither Hale could ignore that. Though her words had suggested they stay put, their instincts drove them to follow her quickly out into the hall.

Scott was kneeling by a figure on the floor, but he backed up as soon as his mother got near. Laura did her best to cover a gasp. There, leaning against the wall and panting in pain, was Stiles Stilinski. His brown hair was a mess, as though he'd pulled at it and run his fingers through it multiple times, and his already pale skin was paler. His brow was sweaty and he seemed unable to hold any air in his lungs. When Melissa gently touched his wrist, he whined and pulled away from her.

"Why are you out here if it's this bad?" the manager asked quietly, evidently trying to keep the Hales from overhearing too much, but Stiles was too close to them for them not to hear.

"S-Sorry. I just-..." Stiles grit his teeth and grabbed his right forearm tightly, head falling back against the wall. "I needed- It's worse than-"

"Scott, get him back to his room," Melissa ordered, pushing herself up. "I'm calling Yukimura. She'll meet you there."

"I'm on it," Scott said confidently, but when he tried to get Stiles to his feet, the singer just hissed and fell back down. The mother-son team tried together, but Stiles' legs were unwilling to cooperate.

Pressing his lips together, Derek stepped forward and pulled Stiles to his feet. Stiles complained with a cry of pain, but Derek didn't give him time to fall again. He scooped Stiles up in his arms, not surprised to find the younger man light enough to carry. The two managers gasped, but Stiles was too distracted to care much. He peeked out through squinted eyes to see who was strong enough to lift him, but then he just squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on breathing.

"Show me the way," Derek ordered to Scott, who took a half second to look affronted before pointing down the hall and taking off as fast as his legs would take him without running.

Laura stayed behind with Melissa when they left, and Derek could imagine why. Stiles looked awful – paler than usual and sickly. His face couldn't have shown more pain if he had a gunshot wound in his stomach. Laura really admired Stiles Stilinski. There was no way she would be able to handle herself around him in this state. Even Derek had been shocked into paralysis at first. But now he just wanted to get Stiles to this Yukimura person so they could help Stiles with whatever was wrong with him.

And just what was wrong with him?

Scott rounded a corner and let out a breath of relief. "Kira," he greeted.

A young Japanese woman waited just outside of a door marked with Stiles' name, rocking nervously back and forth on her heels. When she saw Scott, her face relaxed, and when she saw Stiles, her eyes grew serious. She opened the door for them and ushered the group inside.

"Hurry up," she said as Derek carefully maneuvered through the door, wincing at every moan and short cry of pain coming from Stiles. The girl half slammed the door shut behind them. "Oops. Sorry."

"Kira," Scott gently scolded and she shook herself.

"Right. Not important. Set him down on the sofa." She dug in her bag while Derek did as told. Then he stepped back and watched her force a pill big enough to choke a horse down Stiles' throat.

Stiles forced it past his gag reflex and then pressed his lips tightly together in a sour expression. Derek could only imagine how awful something that chalky looking must taste, and he wondered again what was wrong with Stiles. He'd never seen anyone act like they'd been mortally wounded without actually having the wound. In his job, he'd seen a lot of crazy things, but definitely never something like this.

After a few excruciating minutes, Stiles calmed. His vice grip on his forearm slackened and fell away, his shaking limbs stilled, and his pained expression calmed. His breath still came in tired panting, however. Slowly, his eyes opened and he looked up at a worried Kira.

"Thanks," he grunted and even smiled at her. Kira smiled back and then knelt by him to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Next time just call me," she scolded. "Don't just wander off."

"Sorry. You're right. Sorry." Whatever medication they'd given Stiles was draining him pretty quick. His open eyes were already drooping and his lips barely parted to let out words.

"You can pay me back with some coffee. Take a nap now and my father will stop by to check on you later." Kira stood and sighed as she gave him a disapproving stare.

Within seconds of agreeing, Stiles was evidently asleep. His breathing had evened out and his head dropped carelessly to the side on the arm of the couch. Derek watched the steady rise and fall of Stiles' chest for what felt like not nearly long enough before Scott and Kira said goodbye to each other and then Scott was dragging Derek from the room.

Once in the hall with the door securely closed behind them and several feet away, Scott turned and faced Derek. "You can't tell anyone what just happened."

"I don't even know what happened," Derek pointed out. "What's wrong with him?"

"If I say it's above your pay grade, will you drop it?" Scott asked hopefully. Derek just gave him an intense look that he knew communicated every version of 'no' possible, and Scott sighed. "Look, he doesn't want other people to know, so I'm not going to tell you. It's not usually a problem, so you won't have to worry about it to do your job right. The Yukimuras take care of him. Not you. So... drop it, alright?"

"Fine," Derek agreed, but he didn't plan to drop it at all. "But if it starts to interfere with my ability to do my job, I expect to be fully informed."

"That's-... logical," Scott said after a short pause. "Fine, alright. If it starts to be a problem, I'll tell you what you need to know. But nothing more, deal?"

"Deal," Derek agreed and they shook on it.

Derek would figure out what was going on, sooner or later. A condition like that one had to be serious enough to be documented somewhere. He would just-

Except he should just let it go. Scott had a point. Stiles having some kind of medical condition wasn't relevant to Derek's job as long as it wasn't going to make Stiles pass out in front of fans or something, and according to Scott it wouldn't. He should ignore it like he would for any other client.

Casting one last look back at Stiles' room, Derek nodded and headed to find his sister.

It wasn't until roughly the thirteen century that people realized exactly how the countdown worked.

What it counted down too was rather well known already, although nothing official had been recorded.

Soul mates.

Every person on the planet had one true soul mate. This did not mean you couldn't date and find love on your own time. Many people got married to their not-soul mates and had happy families, but there was always the stress of the true soul mate lingering in the background. Because those numbers on every single person's wrist counted down the number of months until you met your soul mate.

It was odd science, and some biologists were still trying to figure out if the numbers could be honed to be more accurate, but as it stood there was up to a month of difference between when your numbers zeroed out and when you met your soul mate. It all linked back to the aura-sphere, of course. The energy in each person's body matched the energy in another person's body, originating from the same strand of parent energy in the aura-sphere. Your numbers were a countdown to when your energies were properly matured and aligned.

Some people met their soul mates the day after their numbers zeroed out. Some people ended up meeting theirs a full thirty days after. A lot of factors influenced the length of time – physical distance from each other, emotional state, geographical location, some even argued that sexuality played a role. But the point was that after your wrist said zero, you had a thirty day countdown. It was a guarantee, proven by centuries of human history.

And that was why Derek Hale couldn't stop looking at the small glowing zero on his wrist. He was within his month, so everyone he met was filled with potential.

Finding your soul mate was a tricky business, and the whole month countdown thing was a serious design flaw, to be quite honest. Why couldn't it be days? Or hours? Or minutes? That would clear up so much confusion. But no. It was months.

And Derek's wrist had been zeroed out for ten days.

Was it possible he'd already met his soul mate and just hadn't noticed? He had bumped into a lot of new people... but that was sort of his job. He was a body guard – a security guard. He basically told people to move a lot and tried not to be too personable.

When people said you'd "meet" your soul mate within thirty days, did they mean meet as in introduced and everything or meet as in "I told them they couldn't wait outside the bus for the band to come out and they walked away glaring at me"? What a shitty first impression. Was that what happened? What if-

"What about this?" Laura asked, reminding Derek that he was working.

As his eyes came back into focus, he realized he'd been inadvertently glaring at a temp worker that was mopping the floor. The poor guy looked wrecked as he kept glancing nervously over at Derek. When Derek looked away, the guy relaxed, and Derek tried to figure out what his sister was talking about.

Her finger was aimed at a junction point in the hallways. Normally, this wouldn't be anything interesting, but just inside the hall that led backstage was an alcove. There was nothing in the cut out of the wall, but it was shadowed, and it would only be worse at night during concerts. While guards and ushers moved people along the adjoining hall, someone could take advantage of the chaos and slip into the backstage hall by hiding in the alcove.

"Noted," Derek said, marking it down on the notepad he carried. "We'll stand a guard at the corner specifically so no one slips by. Now we should go into the main hall. I think we need to consider posting someone in the balcony. There's a window on the left side, and I think someone could easily get to it from the outside if they had a tall enough ladder to get them started."

"Wow. Are we guarding him from assassins now?" Laura asked with a teasing grin. "So what if someone sneaks in the top window?"

Shaking his head, Derek slipped his notepad into his jacket pocket. "We're being tested, remember? If we don't impress them, we lose the job to the Argents. Beyond that, imagine Mom's face if we couldn't even properly protect one teeny bopper."

Agitated didn't begin to describe the reaction he got from his sister. "Teeny-? Listen here, caveman. Just because you don't listen to the radio or anything made after 1980, doesn't mean Stiles is a teeny bopper. He's a seriously talented singer. Stop smirking before I rip the lips right off your face."

"Such a threat," Derek taunted.

Before he could continue their banter, however, a young woman raced over to the siblings, her eyes wide and fixated on Derek. Big blue eyes glanced desperately between Derek's hazel eyes and his wrist again and again before she clapped her hands together.

"Hi, my name is Emily. What's your name?" She asked quickly.

After a short pause, he answered, "Derek."

"Great to meet you," Emily said, still speaking quickly. Without asking permission, she snatched up Derek's wrist and showed off the glowing zeros to the ceiling. Before Derek could do more than grunt in disapproval, she pressed her own wrist over his and took in a sharp breath.

Derek didn't make any noises because he didn't feel anything. No tingling. No sparks. Nothing. It only took a short moment to discover Emily had gasped in anticipation and not out of any physical reaction either, because her gleaming smile dropped instantly into a frown.

"Dang it," she muttered, releasing Derek's arm. He pulled it back quickly and rubbed it against his side.

"What the hell was that?" Laura asked. Emily's lips parted to answer, but Laura held up a finger to silence her. "No. Let me stop you there. The answer is inappropriate. Ms., I don't know your job within the arena, but I'm going to have to request you give me the name of your supervisor and then step outside."

"Wh-What?" And now Emily looked clammy. "N-No! Please, I'm just-"

"Desperate. I know you think it was harmless, but it's our job to limit random variables like over-excited workers from the roster." Laura was so professional and cold that Derek was almost surprised, but he'd seen her get this way before over equally small events that ended up being really good calls.

"No, I need this job. I'm sorry!" Emily squealed, and the color of her skin reminded Derek too intensely of Stiles in the hallway.

Before Laura could continue to scold and dismiss the girl, Derek stepped between them slightly. "Let this one go, Laura," he said and stared intently into her eyes.

For a moment, they had a staring contest, a silent battle of wills, but in the end it was Laura who finally caved. Her lips pouted and then she groaned unhappily.

"Fine," she said. Emily looked so relieved she may pass out… until Laura turned on her once more. This time when Laura spoke it was with a much gentler tone. "Understand what would happen if you, or someone like you, ran in the middle of a crowd and did that to Stiles. I won't be dissuaded next time. Do you understand?"

"I understand." And Emily actually bowed to Laura. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing. Zeroing out always messes with people's hormones. Just get back to work and try to keep it together." Laura waved the girl off, and Emily wasted no time in hurrying back the way she'd come.

They watched the girl until she was out of sight and then Laura turned to face Derek instead. He chose not to look at her, though. Past where Emily had disappeared, the sunlight was turning everyone and everything into silhouettes. Vaguely he wondered what he might have done if he'd noticed Emily first, walking by with those glowing zeroes on her wrist. Derek had no idea what gender his soul mate was, only that he was supposed to meet them soon. Would he have been tempted to call her over and do the same thing?

"You too. Get your shit together," Laura grunted when she realized Derek wouldn't be indulging a second staring contest. Instead, she reached up to tap her bun and check it wasn't coming undone. "God, was I that bad when I zeroed? You better find your match soon or I'll have to start guarding you too."

"Well that would be something," Derek conceded. "Or maybe I'll just start wearing company wrist bands."

A laugh started in Laura's throat, but before she could comment, they heard something clatter and clang all over the floor behind them. Spinning around, they saw a cluster of expanding barricades had been knocked over – which was a feat considering they were pretty much designed to stay upright.

"Oh man, no one tell Scott I just did that. Better yet, don't tell anyone."

It was Stiles, hovering over the rolling pillars like he was trying to give them an air hug. His arms flailed slightly as he regained his normal footing and then he smiled sheepishly. Narrowing his eyes, Derek walked over and helped the singer stand all the barricades back up. Laura did too, but she was having trouble taking her eyes off Stiles.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked, and he meant 'out of bed' but Stiles didn't look ill in the slightest now. In fact, he looked in perfect health.

"Guess Ms. McCall didn't warn you. I'm a spaz. You're the new security leads, right? Sorry – you'll be protecting me from myself more than anything else," Stiles said, but he didn't actually sound sorry. When everything was standing again, Stiles stretched his arms to the ceiling and grinned. "There. Nothing happened."

He was dressed in jeans and a plain white shirt with a blue rim collar. If he bumped into Derek on the street, Derek probably wouldn't name him as a twenty-year-old chart-topping singer. But the whole civilian get up looked good on him regardless.

Oh damn. At this rate, Derek would turn into Laura. He closed his eyes for a second and banished all ideas of admiring Stiles from his mind.

"Oh, so hey." Stiles turned then and extended his hand to Laura. "I'm Stiles Stilinski."

He was acting like the episode in the hall had never happened. His smile was beaming. After shaking Laura's hand, he offered his to Derek, and his grip was strong. Even looking straight at Derek, he didn't make any notion that he recognized Derek as the one who'd carried him to his room.

"Derek Hale," Derek said automatically when their hands touched and felt his breath go tight.

"Nice to meet you." Stiles broke their handshake halfway and fist bumped Derek before pulling away entirely. He pointed at Derek's arm and gave an impressed look. "Zeroed, huh?"

"What?" Derek looked down and then felt silly for doing so. "Yeah. So?

"Good luck with that, buddy." Stiles put one hand on his hip and waved the other in motion to all of Derek. "I hear that can be troublesome. I mean, you've got the looks, so no issues there, but you gotta work on that serial killer stare. Seriously, we just met. Did I do something wrong already?" He paused, looking up as he thought, and then he grinned. "Well besides the barriers."

But Derek wasn't listening to the analysis anymore. His forehead knit together when his eyes landed on Stiles' wrists. General curiosity had drawn Derek's eye at the mention of his own zero, and he really shouldn't be surprised, but he still was.

Both of Stiles's wrists were bound in white cloth from the base of his hand to three quarters up his forearm. As if that wasn't enough, he wore a red wristband on his right arm and a black one on his left. Under Derek's scrutiny, he subconsciously rubbed his fingers over the red one.

"Uh, sour puss?" Stiles tried again and Derek jerked his eyes back to look at Stiles' face. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Laura giving him an agitated look.

"Thanks," Derek grunted. "I'll work on that. In the meantime, maybe I'll even find time to guard you."

Lips parted, eyes narrowed, arms out, Stiles was both the picture of disbelieving shock innocence. Derek wished the awkward expression would at least make Stiles look less appealing, but apparently today was not his day for wishes.

"Okay, okay." Stiles was shaking his head, but at least he was smiling while he did it. "Your brother's kind of an ass, you know?" And now his smile was on Laura. She looked embarrassed, and Derek felt embarrassed… not over his actions, but over his jealousy that Stiles wanted to talk to Laura instead.

"Oh, trust me. I know," Laura said and smacked Derek in the shoulder.

"Ow," he complained, but neither other person paid him any mind.

"Sorry," Laura said, but it was at Stiles. "I promise your shows will never be safer than under our watch. We're fully dedicated to supporting you on this tour if you give us the chance."

At that, Stiles shrugged, but he was still smiling. In fact, his incredulous look at Derek had been the only time the smile had left his face. "Well canvassing like police is a good sign. But the show tonight is the real test, right?" He took a step backwards and winked at Laura. "I wanted to officially meet you, but now I gotta go get ready. I'll see you guys later." He pointed at Derek's wrist. "You're gonna need that luck," he said, and then he was jogging away down the hall.

Derek's hand instinctively covered the numbers on his wrist as he glowered at Stiles' back. But he didn't get much time to think about how horrible that first introduction had gone because Laura was there to scold him out loud.

"Oh my god, you're such an embarrassment," she groaned and smacked his arm again. "Is it too late to give you up for adoption?"

Preview Chapter 2:

The crowd cheered as the next song started up, it was slower than the last one, and Stiles chuckled. He bounced his head. Then the guitar hummed into life, and Stiles' shoulders were going. He raised his head and leaned into the mic.

Panic clenched in his stomach and his face must have look shocked because Stiles kept singing, but his face looked confused.

Stiles grabbed Derek by the shoulder to stop him from leaving. "You're acting like the building's gonna blow up. Oh my god! Is the building gonna blow up?"

"I'm just- Well, I think this was a great first run aaaand I'll definitely count saving his life in your favor when Stiles and I discuss your contract," Ms. McCall said, obviously trying to keep the situation calm and normal.