"Stiles?"

The boy opened his eyes suddenly, feeling a little bit dizzy. He must've fallen asleep for a while. At first he had no idea where he was - the fatigue slowed his brain and there was only so much a 16 year old boy could take. The events of the last 36 hours slowly found their way to his mind, filling it up. He slowly turned his head to his injured father; the relief pushed him out of his chair and a second later he was sitting on the side of the sherrif's bed, holding his hand tightly.

"Oh my god, Dad," he breathed with a light smile and he barely heard his own thoughts from the rapid beating of his heart. "How do you feel?"

"I am tired as hell and I don't remember much but... Let's say I'm fine," sherrif Stilinski said wearily and through the blurry spots in front of his eyes he tried to find his son's worried glance. "I'll be okay."

Stiles was positive he's never felt so afraid and anxious in his whole life. This night has been way too long for his nerves and he still felt weak after being paralyzed by the Kanima. It wasn't something that a teenage boy would wish for. He didn't ask for any of this. Until now, he was tired of the constant knot in his stomach, the distress he felt everytime he thought about his father, the certainty that he would be the very first person who would die if it came to fighting. And yet, he was running back to his 'pack', helping them with everything he could.

Now, it was different. His father got seriously injured, Scott's mother knows about everything, innocent people died and apparently everything fell apart. He had no idea where the others were, and it pretty much looked like they didn't care about him either. He felt too exhausted to process all the information, but he knew one thing.

He would never risk his father's life again.

Ever.

"Everything alright, Stiles?"

The boy looked at the older man slowly, trying to figure out what should he do next. He would have to tell his father about everything sooner or later, but he couldn't do this alone. He needed someone, right now, but there was no one, and it forced a giant lump in his throat to fight its way more and more above.

"Yes, erm... You have to rest. I'm not going anywhere, 'kay? I just need some fresh air," he squeezed his father's hand once more, faking a tired smile, then he stood up to leave the room.

"Stiles."

His father's sapless voice stopped him at the door, and the younger Stilinski carefully looked at him over his shoulder.

"I'm glad you are here," he said after a little hesitation, and as weak as these five words were, they made Stiles just as happy. His father never said things like that unless he was drunk, but he was totally sober now, and it washed away all the bad feelings Stiles experienced within the last few hours.

"You need your Odin-sleep now, allfather." As he usually did, he made fun of this situation as well, but it just confirmed one thing. If there was anything to worry about, it wasn't Stiles.

He left the room quietly after making sure his father was fast asleep, and he was just about to buy a coffee and prepare for the rest of the day to stay awake when he heard someone clearing his throat right behind him. He jumped at least 3 feet high after looking straight into the dark eyes of the familiar sourwolf and he tried to collect himself desperately while leaning his back to the wall.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked hysterically, glaring at Derek incredulously. "You're a wolf and everything but you have a freaking mouth and it is there to be used!"

He expected that he would get no answer at all, but when the other suddenly grabbed the front of his shirt and smashed him onto the wall, Stiles forgot how to breathe. Maybe it wasn't the best time to insult him? Oh well, it's not Derek whose father was nearly killed by a psychopath. He shouldn't complain.

"You knew, didn't you?" Derek was angry, and not only his voice told that to Stiles. His eyes were burning in alpha red, and although the younger boy really hoped the other wouldn't kill him in front of his father's room, he wouldn't have bet on it.

"What are you talking about?" Stiles asked, his fingers rounding Derek's wrist. His efforts to stop the wolf from strangling him failed miserably, so he begged for mercy with his eyes instead.

"You betrayed me! All of you!" He was shouting now, only inches away from Stiles' face and the boy couldn't help but let out a dry snort. They were lucky that the corridor was empty.

"You have some serious trust issues. You're freaking out on the wrong guy here, I didn't do anything! Listen and tell if I'm lying!" Stiles shouted back and the longer he stared at Derek the less fear he felt. The situation was ridiculous, as well as the feelings that invaded his whole chest. He'd never felt so safe and within an ace of death than with Derek, and it wasn't right. Not when the wolf looked like he could've ripped his throat out in a blink. Not exactly the best timing for feelings like this.

Derek was listening, and the seconds passed in silence. His eyes turned back to normal and his grip on Stiles' shirt slowly weakened. Stiles knew he was listening to his heartbeat which paced fast but not unevenly and it explained everything. Derek carefully released Stiles who put his shirt right and stared at the older guy with a typical 'I told you so' look.

"Now, would you be so kind and tell me what is going on? I was too busy helping my father to survive the night and couldn't really pay attention to the whole supernatural shit that's going on in this town," Stiles rambled and blinked a few before realizing he talked too much. Again. Surprisingly, the annoyance on Derek's face was much less than any other times before, but it was more worrying than felicific. "Who betrayed you?" he asked carefully, furrowing his brows, and he still wasn't pretty sure Derek would trust him enough to talk but he was optimistic.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to tell you," Derek chose to say at last and turned around to leave instead of explaining, but Stiles reached after him and grabbed his elbow. He knew it wasn't the best move, because you aren't nagging the fretful lion but he had a very bad feeling about this and he had to know. Although he just decided to stay out of this whole thing and rather protect his father, but the look in Derek's eyes told him that the wolf needed help. And it was a rare opportunity for being productive, and Stiles couldn't let it pass just like that.

"I know you don't trust me. I know you don't trust anyone, but you heard it. I didn't lie to you. I admit that I wished your death more than once but come on, it happens to everyone," Stiles shrugged and for a second he thought he saw a light amusement flash in Derek's eyes, but it disappeared quickly. "You can't do everything alone and... I don't say I'm by far the best at anything but... I'm a pretty good listener. And I think I'm good at imagining things, at least I could make a handful of fairy dust to last for a pretty long distance, and it felt like I was Merlin or something. But what I'm saying is that the only thing I want to protect with my life is my dad, and if someone betrayed you and we know him, he could mean danger to him as well and-"

"I will not let anything happen to you or your father, Stiles," Derek cut him off softly, and Stiles needed a few moments for the words to reach his brain. His jaw dropped a little bit and his arm fell back next to his side again. Somehow he knew Derek wouldn't leave now, but he was too shocked by the other's words to realize his inner anticipation.

"Well it's nice to know," he noted blankly and swallowed hard before tearing his glance from Derek. He suddenly felt naked from the other's look so he sat down on one of the ugly orange plastic seats and took a deep breath. "So, talk to me, Leuschen."

Derek was just about to sit down next to Stiles when he stopped and shot a confused look at the boy who just rolled his eyes and leant back on the chair.

"I suppose you haven't seen Underworld. Doesn't matter."

The werewolf didn't have to say a word, Stiles was well aware of the fact Derek had no clue what he was talking about. Seriously, these werewolves had no idea of their popular culture? It was ridiculous.

"So, what happened?" Stiles asked, curiously turning his head to Derek who stared at his lap. Stiles knew it wasn't going to be easy and it was probably going to hurt him as well but after a night like this he was prepared for everything. As long as his father was safe and sound, nothing else mattered.

"Scott works for Gerard."

The shock was tangible in the air and a bit of concern spread across Derek's face while he examined Stiles' reaction carefully. Well, Derek didn't sugarcoat it, that's sure as hell. And of course, Stiles wasn't going to blindly believe everything Derek said, but the slight pain of wasted trust sparkled in the werewolf's irises and Stiles felt like he was torn apart. He had many questions, many doubts, but he had to remind himself of the current situation before jumping to conclusions.

Why would Derek lie to him? Maybe he wants to dump on Scott, but it wouldn't make sense. Derek needs Scott to defeat the Kanima, and it would be useless to turn Stiles against his best friend. But still, why would Scott work for Gerard? Probably not because he wants to. Scott tried to keep a healthy distance between him and Allison's grandfather so far, why would it be different now? Gerard probably threatened Scott, but if it's the case, it still isn't clear why he kept it as a secret. From his best friend.

"Are you okay?"

Derek's voice pulled Stiles back from his thoughts and he nodded as a response. It doesn't matter how you looked at it and from what angle, if what Derek said was true, Scott lied to them and Stiles' father's injuries would've never happened if Scott didn't co-operate with the hunters. It was enough to get pissed-off. Not slightly.

"Are you sure?" It was the only thing Stiles could ask at the moment, and he didn't have to look at Derek to see the slow nod. It burned a hole into his heart but he still had a tiny little piece of hope that there was a decent explanation to all of this.

Stiles didn't even have the chance to answer properly, Derek turned his look to start staring at his knees and took a deep breath.

"And that's not the only thing," he said slowly, and for a second he seemed utterly small and helpless, but luckily Stiles knew the other side of him, the normal side, that usually scared the hell out of him, so he didn't start to feel sorry for him too soon.

"What on Earth can be worse than that?" Stiles asked with a sarcastic laugh but from the expression on Derek's face he could tell that the thick of the story only comes now.

"Peter returned," Derek said seriously, looking at the stunned Stiles. "And he can control Lydia."

Stiles always considered himself as a really strong, patient person who could take anything in and process even the roughest situations. (And he used it well when his mother died.) However, after long hours of being paralyzed and worried to death because of his father and no sleep and no food and no rest or anything like that, news like this could be possibly make him freak out.

And a little bit... He actually did freak out.

"What the hell is going on in this freaking town?!" he yelled incredulously and jumped to his feet, staring down at Derek with burning eyes. "Ever since that night your sister died everything has been like a crappy Halloween show, and ever since Scott turned, shit is pouring down on us, especially on me! But who cares? Stiles is smart, Stiles can handle everything, Stiles has nothing to lose so he can help us with our little werewolf rampage, who the hell gives a damn if his dad nearly dies? Scott, go and look after Allison because she's the meaning of your life! Who minds! Lydia thinks I'm an invisible little ant and you? You want to rip my throat out once in a while, but at least you notice me!"

Stiles stopped only because he ran out of oxygen, but when he saw the shocked Derek staring back at him, he changed his mind and didn't continue. It felt good - to tell him everything (or rather shout, but he didn't notice that). It was another kind of subject how Derek would react, but to be honest, Stiles wasn't in the mood to die tonight, so he decided to not start an arguement. If Derek was about to attack him, he will let him. Not like Stiles stood a chance against him. He really was an invisible little ant, wasn't he?

"You don't have to say anything," Stiles breathed out resignedly and turned away from Derek, running his fingers through his hair. Not like he had so much hair or so long, but... It was a reflex action. "Let's just forget I said anything."

"Don't forget any of this." Stiles could hear Derek forcing himself to sound sympathetic and soft, and he didn't know why he did it but it kinda resolved the tension that built inside of him. "You have to remember how you feel right now, because you can change it only if you know what you want to change."

"Since when are you this wise?" Stiles asked with a snort but when he turned back to Derek and saw the grim determination in his eyes, he felt both scared and stunned at the same time. "Okay, someone looks like he has a plan."

"I said I didn't trust anyone," Derek started slowly, not removing his eyes from Stiles even for a split second. The younger boy just nodded in understanding with a confused expression and waited for the other to continue. "But you were right. I can't do this alone. There is a great chance the Argents are going to come after me and they will force Scott to take me down. Also, there's the Kanima and Peter. I won't be able to do it alone, Stiles."

"I think I've never heard you talking for this long before," Stiles stated with wide eyes, but when Derek didn't answer and stared at him with a dark look, he suddenly started nodding. "Sure, yes, I'm going to help you. If it means everything's going to be alright."

"Stiles, you have to take it seriously." Derek put on his deadly serious voice which never meant any good so Stiles tried to restrain himself and looked at him straight in the eyes.

"You can trust me, Derek. I'm on your side. I'm in your... pack."

Stiles knew Derek wasn't looking for clues in his eyes, but in his chest, listening to his heartbeat carefully. It was steady and as even as it could be, and when a light smile appeared in the corner of the sourwolf's mouth, Stiles didn't feel like an ant anymore.

He was more like a baby wolf now.

Compared to Derek at least.