When Stiles tagged along with Scott to a meeting in Derek's lot so they could plan a strategy for going at the Alpha pack, he wasn't really sure what he had expected. He does know that he wasn't expecting to see their English teacher, standing awkward and curious by Derek's side. And he sure wasn't expecting the hot rush of anger when he noticed their fingers were loosely intertwined.

Scott's shoulder brushed his and Stiles looked up, startled, catching his friend's confused expression.

Stiles shrugged, playing it cool as he tamped his sudden anger down. "Just wish Lydia had come with, but she's out with Max. So…" he trailed off, shrugging again.

Scott still had a worried and confused look in his face, but he let the lie go and Stiles had never felt so glad to have him as his friend.

They had bigger things to worry about than Derek's new love life, though. Even if looking at it made him feel like he'd just taken a punch to the gut.

And for the life of him, Stiles didn't know why.

After that meeting, Ms. Blake showed up again.

And again.

And again.

Every time there was a werewolf-related powwow that included Derek, inevitably she would be there too. Which was great right? Because not only did Stiles get to see her every freaking school day, he also got a refresher course on how great the new couple was doing on the nights the pack got together to try to deal with the Alpha situation.

A few weeks after tending to his bruised pride day after day, Stiles had been forced to analyze why his stomach cramped when Derek's gaze softened at the sight of Jennifer, or why he got the overpowering urge to leave whatever room the woman was in whether it was Derek's loft or her classroom, or why his appetite would fall off at the thought of them together, kissing, touching, fucking…

Stiles was jealous.

He had slowly developed something of a crush on Derek over the past year. It was small, always had been, and Stiles had done his best to keep it quiet and to himself, hardly acknowledging it except for in the darkness of his room when his hand was wrapped around his cock.

But Stiles hadn't said anything.

Hadn't dared to, really. And why would he? Derek was tall, dark, and sexy in a brooding way that made heads of all orientations turn. And Stiles? Yeah, he was starting to fill out his lacrosse pads a little better, but he was still an awkward, gangly kid who laughed off his pain with a near unhealthy dose of sarcasm. He wasn't anything like Derek, who was strong and confident and didn't have to bend over backwards to get what he wanted.

So, yeah, Stiles had kept his lips zipped around the Alpha about whatever feeling he may or may not have had about him because rejection wasn't fun and he was pretty sure that having his pride crushed would get old if he had to be reminded of it every time he looked at Derek.

Though, it didn't really seem to matter now, as each time he walked into the loft Stiles was forcibly reminded that someone else could call Derek their own. Someone else got to touch and taste what he had been dreaming about for months and damn did it feel like rejection anyway, a sharp slap in the face with every secret smile of theirs he witnessed.

So Stiles stopped coming round to the loft, contend simply to have Scott relay the pertinent information to him. He still had to grit his teeth in Ms. Blake's class because there was a happiness that floated around her and a subtle air of satisfaction in her walk and Stiles knew what was causing it, what had transformed her from the shell-shocked woman he had comforted after the freak bird attack months ago.

Stiles skipped her class as much as he dared, when he couldn't handle the reminder that Derek was hers.

Slowly, it helped, distancing himself from the cause of his pain, blatantly ignoring it when he couldn't.

It helped.

Little by little, Stiles felt himself start to ease back into his own skin. He ate a little more and his laugh was less and less forced. The twist in his stomach was still there when had to look at Ms. Blake. In the beginning, he had focused his gaze on anything but her and had endured her calling him out on his 'inattention'—until he found that staring at the wall a foot away from her face gave the impression that he was looking at her and that had stopped that.

He made sure to keep his grades up in her class, too (she was the kind of teacher who tended to single out the failing kids in her class discussions).

His little tricks didn't work all the time, but…they helped.

But there were still Bad Days, days that Stiles had fought with his dad or when his friends had run-ins with the Alpha pack or when something pissed him off. And then, just like that, he'd be stuck in a rut for the rest of the day, unable to keep the bad feelings out.

It would figure that Derek would call on him on a Bad Day.

Stiles had just walked into his room, had slung his backpack moodily at his bed—and found that his desk chair wasn't as empty as he'd left it.

Derek was half sprawled in it. His fingers were laced over his abdomen as he stared at Stiles grimly, his jaw set.

I bet he doesn't look at Jennifer like that, Stiles thought and his irritation ratcheted that much higher, already having stewed in his own resentment most of the school day. He'd had to skip English again too because he hadn't trusted his mood (and there went the quiz points he'd needed to maintain his 'A').

"I need you to run surveillance tonight," Derek said tersely. "We're going to break into the Alpha's apartment and we need someone to let us know when one of them's coming. Don't use the Jeep. The twins know what you drive. Jennifer's agreed to let you borrow her car so long as you don't mess up her interior." He dug a set of keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Stiles.

Stiles caught them on instinct and he looked down at the jumble of keys in his hand. One of the key chains on the ring was old and worn, a braided twist of pink and purple cord with a battered daisy pendant at the end of it. There was also a charm in the shape of a miniature wolf clipped onto the set.

It looked new.

Stiles glared down at it, like the stupid little figure was taunting him. He fisted the key set and looked back up at Derek. "If it's her car, why can't she do it?" he said jerkily, his whole body taut in an effort to keep from yelling at Derek.

Derek's frown deepened, like he could tell Stiles was angry (which he could) but didn't understand the cause. "It's dangerous. I don't want her involved in this, especially if shit hits the fan tonight. And you know what to look for."

So it was fine if Stiles was in danger, but not his precious girlfriend.

Stiles snorted derisively. His jaw hurt from how hard his molars were grinding together. It was taking all he had not to fling the revolting key set at Derek's face (with the Alpha's super speed, it wasn't like they'd hit their target anyway).

He didn't like the way Derek was looking at him, studying him like a bug under a microscope. Or like a stubborn piece of gum that wouldn't come off his shoe. Not like something that mattered to him, not like something of value.

Stiles was convenient.

Which was why Derek was here, wasn't it?

Stiles wasn't in second place or third place or any place at all. He was just there.

Disposable.

Tears prickled in his eyes. He clenched his fingers around the jagged edges of the keys until they dug into his flesh, using the physical pain to push away his emotional anguish.

"I'm busy," Stiles bit out, not trusting his voice to stay steady for a more elaborate excuse. His tears were held at bay for now, but he was angry and hurt and he didn't know how long he could keep himself together (and he really didn't want to find out how long it would be until he flew apart). He wouldn't do this, jump through Derek's hoops, hoping that the Alpha would finally see him.

He wouldn't.

Derek's gaze narrowed suspiciously. He stood and approached Stiles, stopping a few feet away from him. "Well, un-busy yourself. I need you."

I need you.

The words rang hollow, but a part of Stiles that hungered for any recognition from Derek at all clutched at them like a lifeline. His resolve splintered and Stiles absently wondered if Derek could hear it, if he knew what it cost Stiles to swallow roughly around the lump in his throat and nod, his eyes cast down to the carpet.

Derek didn't say anything so they stood in silence for a few moments before the Alpha finally turned and left out the open window.

Stiles didn't raise his gaze from the floor for several minutes after Derek had left. He had stood there, motionless, because on the inside he was shattering to pieces. The bite of metal in his palm lost its strength and the tears he had been holding back since he'd first learned about Derek and Jennifer's relationship streamed down his face.

But it didn't matter, did it? His pain?

It didn't matter. Stiles didn't matter. Except for this. Derek needed him for this.

And Stiles knew he'd do it, knew he'd show up and do his part because Derek needed him for something and something was better than nothing.

Even if it hurt.