"Get away from me," Stiles muttered, barely audible for any human to hear, but crystal clear for Derek.

Derek's hand froze in midair. At that moment he became aware of just how much he was hurting Stiles. He had to break up with him though—it was the only way to keep him safe. If they continued to see each other, the Alpha pack would only use Stiles to get to him.

"Look, just get in the car," Derek ordered.

He didn't want to leave Stiles out in the middle of the woods without protection. Stiles, however, seemed to have other plans for he just stood there. His back was turned to Derek and he was unmoving. When it became apparent that Stiles wasn't going to move, Derek growled and grabed Stiles' arm. This only served to release a scream from Stiles, "Castiel!"

Derek gripped tighter at Stiles arm and spun him around so they could face each other. Stiles response? To scream even louder of course, "CASTIEL!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Derek growled.

Stiles finally tore his gaze from the sky, eyes red and watery from trying to hold back tears, only to give Derek the worst death glare there ever was in existence. Which is saying something, since Derek thought he was the king of death glares.

"Don't touch me," is all Stiles said before turning his gaze up at the sky and shouting again, "Castiel!"

Derek let go hesitantly, eyes wide with shock. He took a step back and looked up at the sky, but saw nothing.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Derek asked.

Stiles made no motion to answer, which only aggravated Derek even further.

"Will you just tell me who or what the hell it is you are screaming about?!" Derek shouted.

"It has nothing to do with you," Stiles stated coldly—never taking his eyes of the sky.

He turned his back to Derek and began shouting at the sky again, "Castiel! Dammit, you son of a bitch, we had a deal!"

"Casti—" Stiles began, a tear slipping from his right eye.

"Sorry. I was…preoccupied," Castiel appeared, cutting Stiles' screaming short. He seemed perplexed at Stiles' now tear stained face. His trenchcoat was still flapping when Derek appeared in front of Stiles, eyes blazing red, claws out, and ready to attack.

"Who are you?" Derek demanded.

Castiel's brows furrowed as he tilted his heat to the side, pondering Derek's question for what seemed like an eternity, only to state" You are a werewolf."

While the statement pissed Derek off to no end, it made Stiles burst out into a fit of laughter. To which Castiel responded, "Stiles, it seems like you were right."

This only made Stiles laugh even harder. To say Derek was confused was putting it mildly. He could not comprehend how this guy, whom he had never seen or heard of before, could make Stiles laugh so hard. Hadn't he just broken Stiles heart a moment ago? How could he be this happy?

"I told you," Stiles finally responded while gasping for air and wipping his tears away. He made a move to go around Derek, but was stopped abruptly by a muscular arm. Stiles just glared at it and made a second attempt to go around Derek, which was denied by Derek's arm for the second time.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on? Who is this guy and what do you mean 'told you'?" Derek's voice slowly raising after each question.

They stood, glaring at each other in silence, until Stiles finally caved "This is Castiel. I said 'told you' because I told him trouble always finds me, I don't find it. All because I'm a magnet for bad boys—inside joke. And as for where I'm going, I believe it's not any of your God damn business because like you said, this" gesturing with his hand back and forth between them "is over."

Derek's nostrils flared, "Just because—"

"Stiles, we must go now. I left Dean in a time of need," Castiel interjected.

Stiles nodded.

"Wait. You can't just—"

Again, Castiel interjected by grabbing hold of Stiles and vanishing. Leaving their imprints on the damp ground where they once stood.