AN: I'm really sorry this has taken so long, but a lot of shit has come up and i haven't had time to work on my writing. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Stiles startled awake by a hand shaking his shoulder. Blinking away sleep, Stiles groggily looked around.

"I fell asleep?" He asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah, when Loki was escaping," Peter answered, wincing as he stretched out his neck.

"Did I hurt you?" Stiles asked, turning his head to look at him.

Peter gave him a look.

"Yes, yes, I know, werewolf," Stiles rolled his eyes.

Peter was radiating warmth and Stiles felt way too comfortable to move, but he could see that the rest of the pack were getting restless and hungry. Sighing, Stiles got up, Peter's hand on his back to assist him.

"Alright, pups, I'll go make lunch and then we can go," Stiles said, heading into the other room.

He'd just gone to the grocery yesterday, so thankfully his fridge was fully stocked. After a few minutes of rummaging, Stiles finally decided on making sandwiches. While he was gathering ingredients from the fridge, he felt more than heard Peter come into the kitchen. Turning, Stiles dumped some of them into Peter's waiting arms.

"Let's just go with sandwiches, I don't want to take too long for lunch anyway," Stiles said, grabbing out the cheese and then shutting the fridge.

Peter, who had already grabbed out plates and was pulling out bread, simply "hm"ed at him.

"So what did you think?" Stiles asked, slicing a tomato.

Peter shrugged, "It was okay I guess."

"'Okay?'" Stiles exclaimed, "That movie is epic! It has everything!"

Peter just smirked at him as Stiles pouted into the bread he was slicing.

"I'll find something you'll like, wait and see," Stiles threatened, gesturing at him with the knife.

Peter rolled his eyes, "Hand me the bread, Stiles."

They worked in companionable silence until all the food was ready, and then called in the others. Stiles shuffled off to the side as his kitchen was filled with hungry werewolves.

"Hey!" Scott exclaimed from the middle of the pack, "This ones mine!"

"I got here first!" Isaac yelled, pulling at the plate in Scott's hand.

"Did not!" Scott pulled the plate back.

"Did so!"

"Did not!"

"Did-"

"Enough!" Stiles said, pushing the others aside to get to them, "Scott, take this one."

Stiles handed Scott another sandwich.

"But-" he said.

"No. Take this one and apologize to each other."

Scott and Isaac continued glaring at each other.

"Fine then. I'll just take these back…" Stiles began, reaching for the plates.

Isaac and Scott almost bit their tongues off trying to apologize and curl their bodies around the sandwiches at the same time.

Once everybody had finished their sandwiches Stiles was left with a kitchen full of discarded plates, crumbs, and an exasperated Peter lurking in the corner.

"Why Derek thought teenage werewolves were a good idea I'll never know," he said, shaking his head.

"Well, to be fair, he's not much better," Stiles said, grabbing the broom from the closet.

"Point."

"Who broke a plate?" Stiles sighed, sweeping up the white shards.

"Jackson and Erica. I think he wanted her crust."

Stiles snorted, "Of course he did. Remind me to get paper plates next time we go to the grocery."

"You have a list somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah. It's under my phone."

Peter went over to it and whistled, "That's a lot of food."

"You know how much you people eat? That's only half of what I need to get!" Stiles exclaimed, wetting a sponge and wiping down the counter.

"Can you even afford all this?"

"Not really. Why do you think I haven't fixed my headlights yet?"

"Stiles." Peter began, "You should have told me. I'm going to give you access to my credit card account."

"What? No!" Stiles shook his head.

Peter pulled out his wallet and handed him a card, "Here."

"No, Peter, that's your money."

"Fine. But next time I'm going with you to the grocery. You do more for this pack than anyone, we don't need to put you in debt."

Stiles grinned, "I knew you had a soft spot for me."

Peter snorted, "As if. You however have a soft spot for the pack. You take care of them, even when it's hurting you. So if I want to buy you groceries, you'd do well just to let me."

"All right, all right, you've convinced me."

"Good," Peter said, walking back towards the living room then pausing, "And for the record, Stiles, I still think you'd be a good wolf, but even as your human self you do an excellent job watching over the pack."

When they finally made it to Deaton's clinic, it was pouring. There was so much water falling from the sky that Stiles was glad Scott insisted that he drive, because Stiles could barely see two feet in front of him. Swinging his long limbs out of the car, Stiles grimaced as he was immediately soaked from head to toe. They all ran inside, except for Lydia, Jackson, and Peter, who were apparently too dignified to do anything but walk quickly. Scott went to fetch Deaton while everyone else attempted to dry off. Stiles watched as Erica shook out her hair, smacking Boyd and Isaac in the face as she did so. He was glad when Scott and Deaton came into the room, because Stiles could only resist making a wet dog joke for so long.

"Good afternoon. I'm guessing this isn't just a friendly social call?" Deaton said, looking around at all of them.

"No, it isn't," Stiles said, stepping forward, "We need you to elaborate on the side-affects of us dying."

"Ah. Is there something specific you're concerned about?" Deaton asked.

Allison stepped forward before Stiles could answer, "I haven't been able to shoot my bows because my hands shake too much and make me miss everything. Lydia came with me into the woods so I could practice, but I thought I heard something and went to investigate and…I saw Kate. I shot at her and all the sudden Isaac was holding the arrow and Lydia was standing where Kate was. And I've been having dreams- nightmares -about her too."

"I've been having nightmares too," Stiles said, "And sleeping paralysis. And waking dreams. I'm starting to have trouble telling my dreams from reality."

"Unfortunately, I don't have the answers you need. The side effects are unpredictable." Deaton said.

"So we came here for nothing?" Jackson exclaimed, irritated.

"What I can do is give you something to help you sleep and stop you from dreaming altogether," Deaton said, shuffling around in a drawer behind him, "You won't be able to take it every night, but it will give you some reprise."

"I guess that will have to be good enough," Stiles said, taking the bottles Deaton handed them and then giving one to Allison.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be more help," Deaton said.

"More like no help," Jackson muttered.

Stiles glared at him, "Nobody has all the answers. Thanks for the pills."

With that Stiles turned and led the pack back into the stormy weather. Stiles ended up wedged in the backseat of his jeep between Boyd and Isaac, who was trying to inconspicuously rub his face against Stiles', while Scott took the drivers seat and Erica plopped in the passenger seat and began fiddling with the radio.

"Hey, Stiles?" Isaac asked timidly, "Can we go back to your place and watch more movies?"

"That sounds good Isaac. I'm ordering pizza for dinner though. I've done enough cooking for you lot today. Can somebody call the others and ask if they want to come?" Stiles responded.

"I got it," Erica said, pulling out her phone.

Stiles leaned his head against the headrest and shut his eyes. While he was glad he had pills, he had been hoping Deaton would have more information for them. Stiles supposed he could research it himself and see what he could find, but that could take awhile and he didn't know how much he could take. Tomorrow would be okay, but Stiles was dreading going back to school. Of course, being in a car filled with werewolves who smelled emotion, his thoughts were quickly interrupted by Boyd who bumped his shoulder with his own.

"You good?" He asked.

"Yeah," Stiles said, rubbing his hands over his face, "I'm going to have to figure out what to do about school if these pills don't fix my waking dreams."

"We'll figure it out, Stiles, and get through it," Scott said, looking at him in the rearview mirror, "just like we always do."

"Thanks, buddy."

"The others are in, by the way, but Peter's going to try and find Derek." Erica said.

"Great," Stiles grinned at her, "Now what movies should we watch?"

Scott, Erica, and Isaac instantly began shouting over each other, and Stiles would've been worried about Scott's ability to concentrate on the road if he weren't a werewolf. As it were, Stiles just met Boyd's eyes with an exaggerated eye-roll, and then rested his head on Boyd's shoulder. He liked Boyd. He was quiet, but solid like a rock. Nothing seemed to faze him. He wasn't shy, exactly; he just didn't have a lot to say. When he did speak, he was either saying something wise or cracking a joke. The day Stiles discovered Boyd's sense of humor was the day he decided that Boyd was officially awesome. Right now, however, all he wanted was to be able to rest on Boyd's shoulder and listen to his pack and the rain slapping against his jeep.

AN: Thanks for reading! Please review if you can and let me know if i have any spelling or grammar mistakes in here, because i don't have a beta! And i really don't hate Derek, i'm just nervous about writing him. I promise he'll be in the next chapter!