So this is the 'last' chapter. I say that because it was where my mind ended it when I imagined the story. I have had requests for it not to end here, and I would like to request your opinions. I also would like to see where the show goes, because I like to stick to canon as much as I can.

Stiles just sat. He was so very done with people, fighting, and his 'imagination.' At least when he was useless he knew where he stood. He would run away, and/or save Derek's dumb self. Now that he was 'useful' there were choices and decisions. He didn't like those in the mundane side of his life, the supernatural ones sucked worse so far. Sitting in the middle of the dirt road in front of his jeep was probably weird. He didn't care. He didn't want to care. He did notice when someone was standing just off the field. He felt the shift. He didn't even turn to acknowledge Derek as he approached.

"Stiles? What are you doing?"

"Ignoring the world. You're not helping." Stiles said dryly and with seriousness he didn't often intone.

"Oh. Sorry." Derek said, slightly confused.

"Yea. No." Stiles wasn't even sure if his response made sense.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Derek had concern in his voice. Stiles wasn't sure how that made him feel. He felt broken and it hurt. Derek could heal his physical wounds, but his mind was scarred by years of pins and needles and the most confusing painful week he had ever had. Stiles stood and slowly turned to face Derek. He registered the trademark tight black shirt, and a pair of rather tight fitting jeans. Stiles eyes danced up Derek's body quickly, lingering in key places, until they locked onto Derek's eyes. Briefly he wondered about his options. However. He had decided. He knew what he wanted to do.

He lunged forward and swung his fist at Derek's jaw. Derek's hand caught his, and all but dangled Stiles. Stiles felt tears wall up in his eyes, but despite the pain he refused to cry. It would solve nothing. Hitting Derek, only a mildly better option, was what he wanted to do. Derek seemed to register a lot as he searched Stiles' eyes.

"Hitting me won't make it better." No shit. Stiles knew that. He logically knew it wouldn't solve anything but he didn't want to think. He wanted to pretend he was strong enough to handle things. "But, if it makes you feel better, I do heal faster than most." Derek's smile was sincere, and after letting Stiles arm go, he stood still waiting.

"I wouldn't want to hurt that pretty face." Stiles said with a smirk.

"Oh I doubt you could." Derek chuckled. Stiles felt his own eye brow arch. He tapped into his own imagination, and let the idea of Derek flying across the road fill him as he swung again. Derek was mid chuckle as Stiles fist connected and all the power behind his punch sent Derek sprawling across not only the road but tumbling into the bushes at the edge of the woods. Stiles smirk was genuine this time as he struggled to keep from laughing. Derek stood defensively, wolfed out, looking livid.

"Oh no…you taunted me…that's you're fault." Stiles held up his hands defensively. Derek's speed blurred him as he raced to stand in front of Stiles. He gripped Stiles hands which forced him to cringe a second. "Get control of yourself. You're the one who healed my bruises, you're going to cause more work for yourself." Stiles tried to smile, but Derek was lost in the rage for this moment. Stiles registered his eyes were almost entirely red; no longer did they hold any humanity that normally kept Derek sane. Stile's hit had forced a near full moon reaction.

"Derek," Stile said, his voice mixed with fear, guilt and sadness. "Derek. Listen to my voice." Stiles felt his own emotion filling the void he had left after keeping the alphas at bay. Derek's hand loosened only for a second. Quick enough that Stiles was able to reach up and put his hand on the side of Derek's face. A gentle push, a stroke running through all of the wolf hair that had mixed with Derek's own. A visible shudder ran through his body and the red in his eyes seemed to waver. Stiles willed his hand to brush away the wolf, to push it back down to where ever it stayed when Derek was sane. Each stroke seemed to remove more hair. It simply melted away, or retreated back into his body, every time Stiles moved his hand. Derek's hand dropped to the side of his body, and his head hung limp as he gained more and more control back. Stiles' hand continued its motion, gently stroking Derek's hair.

"Stiles…" Derek whispered.

"Derek its ok…" Stiles shushed him gently.

"Stiles…" His voice a little louder now. "Stiles, are you petting me?"

They both froze. Derek shook with silent laughter, and Stiles not-so-real anger bubbled forth again. Stiles snapped his hand back to his side.

"I was trying to keep you from ripping me apart; I like living, kinda addicted to it actually. You seemed to have broken that control you're known for."

Stiles went to step back, to move away from Derek, to leave. An arm reached around him before he could get too far.

"I'm sorry." Derek pulled him closer. Stiles' panic rose. His imagination firing off wild scenarios. "One of the things that anchors me just threw me across the field. That tends to cause the opposite reaction." Derek and Stiles were touching. Derek was looking down at Stiles who was dazed in the moment. "For the record, I liked the petting…" Derek leaned and kissed Stiles gently. Stiles' panic froze, and vanished suddenly, replaced by comfortable warmth.