Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Out in the woods, alone, in the dark," Stiles muttered to himself, brushing himself off as he stood. "Because this always ends so well."

It looked for a second like there was a spell circle around him, but then it faded like a smoke ring and a flash of incredible pain shot through his head. He couldn't think, just stumbled forward and caught himself with one hand against a tree as he threw up until he felt hollow. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stood up again and tried to work out where he was and why.

"Stiles!" Turning woozily, he frowned as he tried to work out why Derek had sounded funny. Maybe it was because he was glowing. "Stiles, can you hear me?"

"Not deaf." It was a mumble, but it was the best he could do, and he was working on it. Using another tree to help hold himself up, he managed, "What's up?"

Derek stalked toward him, looking absolutely furious. "You have to end the spell, now. It's too risky--"

"What spell?"

Growling, Derek turned like he was talking to someone behind him. "Why-- What do you mean you can't hear him? What kind of druid are you if a kid--"

"Hey. I'm seventeen now. Remember, there was a party that you didn't attend?" Stiles reached out to thump Derek's shoulder and goggled when his hand went right through. "Uh. So. Tell me about this spell? Because I refuse for you to be a ghost. It's not allowed to happen."

Derek's eyes flicked between him and whoever he'd been talking to, and Derek said, "Look, you did something. Something powerful. Deaton's still trying to figure out what it was - your notes are titled 'wibbly wobbly,' does that mean something?"

His head still ached, but something came back to Stiles, and he whispered, "Time travel."

"You--" Derek's fists clenched, and Stiles found himself glad that he wasn't capable at the moment of using them on him. He didn't look anywhere near calm enough to remember about Stiles being breakable. "What were you thinking?"

"My dad..." Stiles couldn't remember exactly what had happened to his dad, just that something had, bad enough for him to risk everything. "I've gotta go see my dad."

Shaking his head vehemently, Derek said, "Stay where you are, don't do--"

He disappeared and Stiles looked at the spot where he'd been and shook his head. He might not have all the details, but he'd sent himself back through time - and it had worked! - so now he had to figure out what he was going to do here. Picking a direction, Stiles started walking.

"Over here!" Stiles couldn't tell exactly which direction the shout had come from, but there were running feet and then more shouts, so it didn't seem like anyone would be inclined to listen to any questions. Without thinking twice about it, he swung himself into a tree and started scrambling up into the branches when two guys broke through the trees, panting and bloody as they ran.

"Come on, we have to hide!" The older one was pulling the younger one along, both of their eyes glowing. "Come on!"

They skidded to a stop, sliding under some thorn bushes, and Stiles tensed as he waited to see why. It didn't take long; he could hear the hunters coming and started shouting. "Hey! Hey, are you guys search and rescue? I've been out here for hours and there was a fucking mountain lion the size of a horse running around!"

The first hunter kept a gun pointed at him and Stiles hesitated, but the second was Chris Argent and it gave him the nerve to slide out of the tree. There was a lot about the man that he didn't like or trust, but he would at least pause before shooting a teenager in the middle of the woods.

"Thank God. I don't even know how I got out here - my cousin took me to a frat party and the next thing I knew, I woke up out here." He tripped over a tree root and went down hard, finding himself staring at a pair of gold eyes under what were unmistakably Derek Hale's eyebrows. Shaking off the surprise, he scrambled to his feet and stepped towards the hunters. "Seriously, I am so glad to see you guys. Any chance I can get a ride to town?"

"I'm sure that could be arranged," Chris said, his eyes flicking over Stiles. "Where did you say you go to school?"

Drawing back, Stiles said, "I didn't, but it's Beacon U. Why?" Looking around, he pretended to notice for the first time that they were all carrying weapons. "What... Are there deer out at night or something?"

"Mountain lions," Chris said, with a smile that showed his canines. "Can't be too careful."

Stiles nodded, idly wiping at the leaf mold and rocks that had jammed into his palms when he fell. Hissing when he felt the trickle of blood from a cut, he said, "Any chance you have a first aid kit? I've had a tetanus booster, but God knows what's in this."

A wave of relief and impatience seemed to go through the three hunters in the clearing - and when had the third one gotten there? - and Stiles wished he'd thought of showing off his open, non-healing wounds sooner. The hunters broke ranks, one of them motioning for Stiles to follow while Chris and the other one melted back into the forest. Stiles forced himself not to look back, chattering about an entirely imaginary hazing process until the hunter practically shoved him off the back of his 4x4 outside Ruby's.

Stiles made a beeline for the restroom, thankful the all-night diner hadn't changed for decades, and used the phone he'd pickpocketed from the hunter to call the sheriff's department and report hearing gunshots out in the woods. He debated with himself but finally threw the phone in the trash and went out to order after checking that he had cash in his wallet. Once he had, it was simple enough to ask to use the diner phone to get directory assistance and then call the Hale house.

"Derek and another boy were almost caught by hunters out in the woods, about fifteen minutes ago. The sheriff's responding to a shots fired, so don't let any of the deputies get hurt when you go get them." He didn't give the person on the other end of the line time to talk, hanging up on the frenzy of follow-up questions and sliding back into his booth. He needed to figure out exactly when he was, and then what he'd come back to change.

Calling the police had been a risk, but the hunters would clear out when they heard the sirens, and the Hales wouldn't harm any of the policemen; his dad would be safe, even if he was out there. Which he wouldn't be, because he'd taken a leave of absence for--

He couldn't remember, and trying just gave him more of a headache. After finishing his food, he left a decent tip and made his way to the motel across the street. His license said his name was Tyler Blinski, and the amount of cash in his wallet was more than enough for a night. He found even more cash hidden in his clothes, all of them the older-style bills rather than the newer ones with more colors and watermarks, and he felt a spurt of satisfaction in his own planning skills even if he couldn't remember what his actual plan was.

That night he dreamed of the story Peter had told him about Derek's first love, the one he'd never worked up the nerve to ask Derek about, and he woke up with a fresh sense of purpose. Obviously, the plan must have been to work everything out so that the girl lived, Derek's life was sunshine and puppies, and Kate Argent never got to live out her firebug dreams. He could warn the Hales about Gerard, too, cut off the Alpha Pack before it even formed, and then Derek's alpha would trust him enough to agree to give his mom the bite.

Yeah, it meant everything would change, but it would be for the better. And he'd still become friends with Scott, they'd just skip the part where Scott got turned against his will. There was no universe in which he and Scott wouldn't be bros, and Scott would be happier without all the werewolf drama in his life.

His first step... Actually, his first step probably should be to get all this cash in a bank before he got robbed. Next he'd have to do some mild hacking and produce just enough paperwork to enroll in school for ease of stalking little Derek and his girlfriend, get the lay of the land before figuring out how to proceed.

***

School was an exercise in torture, no matter what the decade. He'd felt Derek watching him on and off all day, and he recognized the "going to make you talk" look even without the stubble. It was just as well not to bother waiting, and so at lunch Stiles sat down opposite Derek at one of the tables outside, following his gaze to a girl seated at another table. "That your girlfriend?"

"What? No!" Little Derek's scowl wasn't developed to the full majesty it would one day become, but combined with the blush across his cheeks it was kind of adorable. "I know you were lying."

"You do, do you?" Stiles grinned. "My name is Bozo the Clown and I was in the forest to sprinkle magic fairy dust on all the leaves."

Derek's eyes went wide and Stiles laughed. "Derek, my man, just because you can hear someone's heartbeat doesn't mean you should trust them. People have been fooling polygraphs for years, and what you guys do isn't really different."

With a pinched expression, Derek said, "What do you mean, you guys?"

"Don't play poker until you've had some time to develop that sour face some more," Stiles said, cracking open his chocolate milk. "You're a Remus and I'm a Sirius and... you have no idea what I'm talking about do you? Fine, you're a werewolf. Suck all the joy out of my life, again."

"I've never met you before." The kid was right, but it had felt enough like talking with the grownup Derek that he'd slipped. "Unless you count that thing with the hunters."

Stiles flapped a hand and said, "Which was not joyous, so there you go. I'm here to help you, so just think of me as your fairy godfather."

"Help me with what?" Derek looked around furtively, and Stiles looked over at where a tiny girl was sitting and reading a book.

"Is that Paige? She's pretty." Derek's eyes flew to lock with his and Stiles smiled reassuringly. "So, you want to meet after school? We can make out a plan of action for you - anything you need, I'm your wingman."

Bitterly, Derek said, "How about helping me not be invisible? Got any magic fairy dust for that?"

"Hottie Hale, invisible? Never," Stiles said firmly. "After school? We can go to the library."

That blush really was seriously adorable. If he ever ended up being friends with his Derek again - well, with the older version of Derek, whatever - he was totally going to irritate him with the knowledge of his blushes. "Yeah, okay. After school."

"Great. Meet you out front." Stiles ruffled his hair and stood, dumping his tray and wondering whether he'd get suspended for ordering a pizza to be delivered. Probably, since he had been in his first year of high school, which was still about six years away. Time travel really messed with your head.

As soon as the final bell rang, Stiles dumped all of his books in his locker and headed for the front with his hands in his pockets. He wasn't going to be here long enough to worry about grades, and homework was boring even when it actually mattered. He spotted Derek outside, carrying a backpack that looked heavy enough to explain the grownup Derek's shoulders all on its own. The kid was looking around anxiously, and Stiles perked up, trying to see if he could spot the girl from lunchtime. "Hey, so where is she?"

"Where's who?" Yeah, that was definitely a classic Derek scowl, although Stiles had no idea why he was trying to front.

"Your girl!" Slinging an arm around Derek's shoulders, Stiles said, "We, my friend, are going to make you irresistible. You're going to completely charm the socks off her and live happily ever after without any fires or need for a lifetime of therapy."

Derek craned his neck to look at him. The fact that he was being mentally fitted for a straightjacket could not possibly have been more obvious.

"Yeah, just... forget I said that. Let's just start with how we're getting to the library." Stiles needed to work out the transportation situation sooner rather than later, because hoofing it everywhere was just not a happy thing.

Gesturing to the parking lot, Derek said, "My uncle will give us a ride."

"Yeah, okay." Stiles wasn't sure what he actually thought of meeting the younger Peter, but there didn't seem to a non-psycho option for refusing. He'd already spooked the kid enough. "I think I'm going to have to get a bike. Walking sucks."

"I'm getting a motorcycle on my birthday," Derek said, jamming his own hands in his pockets as they ambled to the parking lot.

Nodding absently, Stiles said, "It'll go well with the leather jacket."

"What leather jacket?" Derek had to take a hand out of his pocket to hitch up his bag, which made Derek focus on what he was wearing.

"The one you're going to get to beef up your bad boy persona." Stiles felt a spike of unholy glee at the thought of being the one responsible for the ever-present leather.

Derek gave him a dubious look. "I don't have a bad boy persona. I'm a mathlete."

"I keep telling you to join the basketball team." Peter was leaning on the hood of a sports car, wearing douchebag shades and a polo shirt. He looked like a total dudebro, and Stiles was willing to bet money that there was a puka shell necklace under the collar. At least it wasn't popped. "Sports get you noticed."

"Maybe I don't want to be noticed," Derek muttered, slinging his bag into the backseat before crawling in. "You can drop us off at the library, I can get home from there on my own."

Lowering his shades to look at Stiles, Peter said, "Excuse my nephew, he was apparently raised by wolves. You are?"

"Tyler." Smiling tightly, Stiles said, "Do you always flirt with teenagers, or is the skeeviness something you're putting on for my benefit?"

Peter's smile barely twitched. "I'm being friendly, that's all. Derek's never brought a friend home before."

"I wonder why." He got in the car because there wasn't a reason not to, and flashed a reassuring smile at Derek. He was beaming in return and Stiles was very glad that his Derek had never had a facial expression even close to it, because damn. Happy was a good look for Derek Hale.

"So, Tyler," Peter said as he slid behind the wheel. "What were you doing out in the woods at night, all alone?"

Thinking of a lie was enough to make his heartbeat change slightly as Stiles said, "Performing black magic." Although, technically, it might have been a lie. Stiles couldn't remember the spell he'd used, and anyway black versus white magic was really an archaic social construct.

"Interesting. Where did you find the spell you were using?" Peter flashes him a sidelong look, apparently thinking the sunglasses gave him some cover.

"You'd be amazed what you can find at the public library," Stiles said with complete truthfulness. Granted, not about the question he'd been asked, but it counted. "Knowledge is power."

Teeth flashing, Peter said, "Power is power. Knowledge just helps you acquire it."

"Of course you'd say that," Stiles said. "I don't know why I'm even surprised."

"You feel you know me that well already?" Peter lowered his sunglasses to give Stiles a once over that made him feel like he needed a shower. "I'm flattered, although maybe you should come to dinner so that we can see how much you really know."

Rolling his eyes, Stiles said, "Sorry, I'm busy. Forever."

"Just drop us off here," Derek said from the backseat. "I want to get a snack before we hit the books, and you know you don't allow eating in your car."

There was a tense stare-off between the Hales for a moment, but then Peter pulled over and let them out, barely waiting for Derek to close the door before he peeled off back in the direction of the school. "Man, next time, we ride bikes. Or hang out in the school library or something."

"Everybody likes Peter," Derek said, shrugging his backpack on. "He was captain of the basketball team and valedictorian and always smiles."

Curling his lip in disdain, Stiles said, "Of course he was."

Derek gave him a small smile at that and hiked up his bag. "So, you want to eat something or just go? Travis gave us a ton of homework."

"Yeah, no, food," Stiles said. "And then we're going to talk about your game."

"I don't have a game," Derek said, following him to the diner. "Remember? Peter's the jock."

Shaking his head, Stiles said, "That's not the same thing, and you definitely don't have any game whatsoever if you don't even know what I'm talking about. It's a good thing you're pretty, that's all I've gotta say."

Derek's ducked his head, but the bright red of his ears gave away that he was blushing again. Stiles grinned at the mindboggling adorableness of it all, feeling heartened by the likelihood that he really could make the happily ever after happen.

***

The problem wasn't that Derek had no game. The problem was that, when faced with the girl that was the love of his life, Derek had negative game. He'd had a few awkward conversations with her, although Stiles could only tell they were awkward because of body language. If Stiles was close enough for werewolf hearing, Derek would clam up and refuse to talk to Paige at all. He tried sending texts with advice, but Derek just turned the ringer off and then gave him death glares when they met up afterward.

That would've been enough to try to overcome, but then there was the fact that Peter kept showing up, despite being way too old for the 21 Jump Street routine. He'd lurk around Derek, which was bad enough, but then Stiles started seeing him around even when Derek wasn't anywhere nearby. Stiles started watching out for him in return and making some plans.

"Tyler? Tyler!" Stiles shook himself out of his thoughts to focus on Derek, sitting across from him at a table in the media center and looking ready to combust. "Why were you staring at that guy?"

Blinking hard, he focused to realize there was indeed a guy in front of him. "I wasn't. Cute enough, but not my type."

Derek was barely breathing but trying to sound casual when he said, "What's your type, then? Someone like Lyn or like Scott?"

"What? No, dude, Scott's like my brother." And Derek was too easy to talk to, hence why he'd slipped and mentioned him without having come up with a fake name first. At least with Lydia and the others, he'd managed to assign them names before they came up in conversation. The older Derek would've given him murder eyes at the return of 'Miguel.'

"So it's just Lyn, then?" Again with the careful casualness, and Stiles put his hand on Derek's shoulder comfortingly. Derek shrugged it off with a scowl and said, "Whatever, I was just wondering. You're here now, so it's not like it matters."

Stiles was pensive for a moment, wondering if he'd get to be friends with Lydia here, but he shook it off. This was important. He wouldn't have sent himself back in time if he hadn't thought it all through and decided this was the best option. "I guess not. Anyway, I don't know what my type is, really. I'll figure it out when I find someone who's actually into me."

"Maybe someone already is." Derek was looking at a poster with READ printed below the cleavage of what Stiles assumed was some one-hit wonder from before his time. "If you opened your eyes, maybe you'd see--"

"Aw, kid, I know you're frustrated, but she'll fall in love with you, I promise." At the incredulous look Derek shot him, Stiles said, "Come on, we're going to be late to class. After school we'll get you some new clothes. Not everyone can rock the plaid like I can, and I'm thinking you'll look perfect in some tighter jeans and a henley."

Derek growled and bashed his head against the table, hard enough that Stiles was worried about something cracking. Putting his hand in the way when Derek pulled back to do it again was as stupid as it was reflexive, and he might have whimpered a little when he realized that what had cracked was definitely a part of his hand. "Oh my God! Tyler, are you okay? Why would you do that?"

"Fine, I'm fine," Stiles said, wincing as he looked at his hand. "Yeah, that's broken. Ow, yeah, that's really broken. Ow, ow, ow. I need to get some ice and then just buddy tape it, it'll be fine."

"How do you know?" Derek's eyes were wild as he pulled Stiles to his feet. "Come on, we need to get you to the nurse, she'll call the hospital. Or I could just carry you, it might be faster."

No matter how old he was, apparently Derek still freaked out over the concept that humans, specifically Stiles-shaped humans, could break. "Slow your roll, dude. I've had plenty of breaks - this one isn't even that serious. The hospital's not going to do anything I can't do, but they'll charge me my firstborn child instead of the ten bucks of supplies I can get at the pharmacy."

"You get hurt a lot?" Derek looked like he was about to hyperventilate, and Stiles wanted to ruffle his hair. He could see the echo of his Derek in the turn of his lips and the way his body was so tense, but this version hadn't learned yet how to hold things in so he didn't bleed from feeling too much. "You can't do that!"

Patting his shoulder with the hand that wasn't hurt, Stiles said, "How about you run to the vending machine and get me a soda - the cold will keep the swelling down enough for now and we'll just ditch the rest of the day."

He went off at what was probably too fast a run, and Stiles looked at the books and papers that Derek had out, and his heavy-ass backpack, and made an executive decision. Tying off his fingers with a rubber band from Derek's scarily well-stocked pencil case took about half a minute, and then he gathered everything up and practically ran to shove it all into his locker. His Derek never took any breaks, but this was going to be a new Derek, a happy one who got good things instead of a constant rain of shit, and he might as well learn now about taking a break to just enjoy life.

He jumped when he spotted Derek over his shoulder, but it was his Derek, the older Derek, and Stiles felt his eyes go wide as he snuck in a test swipe and confirmed he was still incorporeal. Jerking his head for him to follow, Stiles ducked into the men's room and shut the door. "What the hell, man?"

"Do you have any idea how much you've screwed up? Everyone else is forgetting things, especially about you!" Derek's hands were squeezing open and shut, and Stiles was pretty sure he'd be up against the wall with a finger waving in his face if Derek could touch him. "I've got two sets of memories, and in both of them you disappear!"

Shaking his head, Stiles said, "No, we're making good progress! You're going to hook up with Paige soon and it'll--"

"What is your obsession with this girl? I never figured it out before..." Derek stopped and swallowed hard. "Before you left. In the new set of memories I didn't have before you screwed things up."

"She was your girlfriend," Stiles said numbly. "The one you tried to turn, and she died, and that's why you were all screwed up and then your family got killed and... Help me out here, man. Your one true love?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Derek said, "For someone so smart, you've always been an incredible idiot."

"Hey! Look, it was a brilliant plan, okay? I just kind of forgot parts of it when I came back." Stiles rubbed the back of his head and said, "Any chance you could give me some inside information?"

"Look, forget about Paige," Derek said. "Something you did got Chris Argent killed off right around when you disappeared, and his dad was always running the show here. Things... things didn't go well."

Stiles felt cold and shaky. "My dad? Scott? Derek, you have to tell me!"

His mouth moved like he was talking, but Stiles couldn't hear him and then he was gone, leaving Stiles feeling sick and shaky. He ran some cold water to splash over his face and try to wipe away the shock of knowing he'd put his dad in danger and he didn't know how to fix it. So now he didn't just have to protect himself, he had to figure out a way to save Chris Argent's life - and figure out the timetable for Gerard's ambush, since he'd been counting on it not starting until Derek had started successfully macking on his girl. Who was, apparently, a stranger.

He really was a fucking idiot.

"Tyler!" It was somehow a whisper and a growl and a yell all at the same time. "Tyler, if you don't let me in there--"

He barely had time to flip the lock on the door before Derek burst through it, looking ready to wolf out any second. "Who was in here? Who was hurting you?"

"Nobody," Stiles said. "I was just talking to myself. I do that."

"Your heart was racing," Derek said, grudgingly standing straighter, no longer in his fight-ready stance. "Like, a lot."

Holding up his injured hand, Stiles said, "I just realized this was swelling already, but it got better with some cold water."

"Oh. Here." Derek handed over the soda can quickly, hovering as Stiles wrapped his fingers around it carefully. "Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?"

Stiles shook his head. "No, but come on. We're going to take the afternoon off. Catch a movie or get something to eat or something."

"What about buying clothes, like you said?"

With a shrug, Stiles said, "I decided that anyone who doesn't like you the way you are doesn't deserve someone as awesome as you."

Seriously, Derek's broad, happy smile could cause heart attacks amongst the weak and/or elderly. As it was, Stiles wondered if he should schedule himself for an EKG at some point, because he could've sworn his own heart took a pause for a moment while receiving the full effect of it.

***

Hanging out with Derek had been surprisingly nice. It probably shouldn't have been surprising, since he liked Derek whenever he wasn't being all growly and threatening murder or maiming, but it somehow was. They'd gone to a movie and then Derek had said at the diner afterward that he'd never seen Star Wars, so they'd gone back to his crappy motel room after Derek had made a quick phone call for Peter to cover his absence at home.

Derek fell asleep sometime during Empire Strikes Back, and Stiles turned the dvd off and pulled the covers over himself. Stupid werewolf furnaces could do just fine without blankets.

If Stiles had ever been asked - because obviously he wouldn't have thought of it without being specifically asked - he would've said that Derek would be the big spoon in any kind of cuddling scenario. Apparently not, given he woke up with an armful of teenage werewolf happily snuggling against him. He wondered if maybe the poor kid had gotten cold, and carefully eased himself away while leaving Derek snuggling with a pillow with the blankets pulled into a burrito around him.

The fact that he had morning wood was going to be blamed completely on the fact that it was morning. Because, yeah, this Derek was a kid compared to Stiles, and the older Derek would literally rip his head off. Either or both of them.

He was brushing his teeth and wondering idly what he was going to do for money, since even this fleabag of a motel was rapidly draining the money he'd brought with him when the door burst open and an honest-to-God wolf burst in, snarling and red-eyed. Stiles dove for the bag where he'd stashed a few baggies of wolfsbane, cursing himself for not having worked out the whole weaponry situation earlier. "Derek, run!"

"Mom, no, wait!"

Derek's shout was enough to stop Stiles in his tracks, and he held up his empty hands, wondering if he was supposed to bare his neck or his belly or some other gesture that said 'please don't kill me' in werewolf language. The fact that Derek threw himself protectively in front of Stiles was a teensy bit humiliating, but he'd had enough time to get used to that sort of thing with the older Derek and so it wasn't too bad a sting.

Suddenly there was a very naked woman in his room and Stiles slapped a hand over his eyes, gesturing to the bed. "Help yourself to... Well, anything, but the sheets might be the fastest option."

Claws were at his throat and his back was to the wall and it all felt horribly familiar. "Your son really takes after you. A lot."

"Why did you take my son?" She snarled and hello, there were fangs. "You smell like the missing boy."

"Mom, it was just a sleepover! Plenty of kids have sleepovers - we watched movies, see?" Derek was holding up the cases for the rentals, but his mom's grip on Stiles's jugular didn't shift in the slightest. "Peter was supposed to tell you."

That at least got the claws put away, and she held out her hand. "Show me. You'd have texted him, you text everything these days."

Grumbling, Derek flicked to the sent messages and showed her the exchange with Peter. "Can you let Tyler go now? You're embarrassing me."

"You and I will talk about this later." Still holding Stiles up against the wall - she seriously seemed like she could do it all day, while getting a manicure on the other hand - she said, "Go home."

Growling, Derek said, "Not until you promise not to hurt him."

"Derek, it's okay." Stiles did his best to smile reassuringly. "The claws are in, it means she's willing to listen. This actually isn't the first time I've been in this position with an alpha, it'll be fine." Or with a Hale, but that would require more explanation than he was currently willing to give.

He hovered, clearly reluctant, but his mom gave a subsonic growl and he shuffled off, grumbling the whole way. She waited, and then called out, "The parking lot is not where I told you to go."

"Kids, huh?" Her hand tightened and Stiles gulped. "And, you know, I'm one, too. Totally harmless. We watched Star Wars because, come on, it's practically criminal--"

"You smell like the policeman's son," she said on a growl, putting her nose against his neck and breathing in deeply. "Explain."

Frowning, Stiles said, "Well, my dad is a policeman, but..."

"Stiles, you-- Mom." It was the older Derek this time, and when his hand went through his mother's face instead of touching her cheek, Stiles really thought that he and Derek might just burst into tears simultaneously.

Her head turned and she frowned before looking back at him. "What were you looking at? Are you a hunter?"

Shaking his head, Stiles said, "I'm sort of training to be an emissary, but... It's complicated. I mean, seriously, it's a really long story."

"I have time," she said, but gradually released her hold. With a swirl of fabric, she pulled a sheet around herself and sat down on the edge of the bed. "And, no matter what my son might think, if you're responsible for the disappearance of the Stilinski boy, I will kill you."

"Holy shit, I'm missing?" Frantically, Stiles turned to Derek. "What the hell was that spell I used? Why would I be missing? My dad - my mom! I've got to go, I've got to--"

The weirdness of literally running through Derek stopped him in his tracks, and he groaned. "How am I going to explain this?"

"Tell her everything," Derek said. "She'll help you - she was always really good at fixing things when I screwed up."

"Yeah, like you ever did anything wrong," Stiles muttered. "Have you met you? He's a choirboy - seriously, he even said he'd never skipped school before, and he wanted to bring his homework! Who does that?"

Drily, Derek's mom said, "A very sweet, well-behaved boy who takes on too much of the world's burdens onto his own shoulders."

"Oh, you can say that again." Stiles was not going to notice the crazy. Once he noticed the crazy, he was beyond hope. "If he can blame himself for anything, he will. He'd blame himself for sun spots if he could, although he also wouldn't notice that he'd, say, dropped a freaking bag over your head."

"You're making my mom think you're a lunatic," Derek said. "And the bag thing was only one time."

Stiles almost flopped on the bed, but stopped and sat up absolutely straight at one raised eyebrow from Talia Hale. Who, yeah, probably thought he was insane. "So, your son says I should tell you everything and that you're good at fixing things."

"Paladin," Derek said. "Tell her I said paladin."

The word had an electrifying effect, Talia looking around with her claws out. "Start explaining. Now."

"So, um, I'm from the future, and Derek-from-the-future is here, and I wanted to fix things and it's, the Argents are going to kill everybody and Deucalion's blind and crazy and it's just all a mess."

Derek paced as Stiles explained, occasionally interjecting to clarify something which Stiles would then repeat. Talia would wait, following Stiles's gaze when he was obviously listening, except at one point she said wistfully, "My beautiful boy. I wish I could see him."

"You will," Stiles said firmly. "You will, because we're going to fix things."

"It was my fault," Derek blurted out. "Kate Argent... I had sex with her and I answered all her questions and she used my answers to figure out how to trap everybody inside."

Eyes wide, Stiles said, "You... Man, how old were you? She's, like, a good ten years older than you are."

"Tell her," Derek said, his jaw set. "Tell her, so she can make sure... Just tell her."

Pulling his hand back when he would've reached for Derek, Stiles said quietly, "He wants me to tell you that the fire was... will be his fault. That because Kate Argent molested him and got him to answer some questions, he's to blame for all of you dying in the fire."

"Derek, look at me," Talia said. "Look into my eyes, because you know I would never lie to you."

"He is," Stiles whispered, and Talia gave a brief nod.

"You made a mistake in seeking to be loved," she said. "And you won't do it again. I forgive you, if you need it, and I will always, always love you."

The noise Derek made was indescribable and he sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands as his shoulders heaved and shook. Stiles knelt down in front of him, leaning forward until he was wrapped around Derek, even if he couldn't touch him. "I told you, didn't I? I told you no one else would blame you. You should always listen to me, I'm always right."

It frustrated him beyond belief that he couldn't touch Derek, couldn't tap their foreheads together or squeeze his shoulder or anything. "Man, I am giving you the biggest hug ever the second that I can. We're talking ribs creaking here. I might even have to just hug the young you until I get to the you-you, and won't that confuse the shit out of him? Just a random, spine snapping hug, boom, out of nowhere. Poor kid will probably run like hell."

"Idiot." Derek's voice might have been rough, but it had the level of almost-fondness that took any sting out of the insult, and he was almost smiling as he looked up at Stiles. "He wouldn't... I wouldn't--"

He disappeared between one word and the next, leaving Stiles feeling incredibly awkward as he knelt on what was, upon reflection, an incredibly grody carpet. Taking a deep breath, he hauled himself to his feet and said, "So, my parents. They need to know I'm not dead, like, yesterday."

"Pack your things," Talia said. "You're not staying here anymore."

"Uh." Okay, apparently Derek came by the stinkeye honestly. Or, more accurately, the do-what-I-say-and-you'll-probably-live eye. Stiles scurried around, stuffing everything in the duffel bag he'd bought. "So, um, my parents?"

She shook her head and picked up the room phone, punching in a number and pausing. "Mrs. Stilinski, this is Talia Hale. Is your husband at home?"

Stiles held his breath as Talia listened to the response. That was his mom on the other end of the line, still young, not sick yet. He'd wanted to go see her so much that it hurt, but he'd blocked out the thought because he couldn't stand it, couldn't have her look at him like a stranger. Worse, if this didn't work, he didn't think he could keep breathing if he lost her again.

"Your son is alive, but in danger. Be discreet - we don't know who might be watching." She gave the room number and the name of the motel before hanging up and looking at Stiles critically. "I'm still not sure what to do about you, but no parent should have to go through what they've been enduring."

All the air went out of Stiles at that, and he sat on the edge of the bed, his head down and his hands dangling limply between his knees. Talia just watched him, the sheet wrapped around her like a toga, until she opened the door and then his parents were there and Stiles didn't know what to do or say. They'd never looked so drawn, so worn out and defeated, not even at the end of his mom's life when they'd all felt like shattering and none of them had dared speak about it.

"Malpko!" As soon as their eyes met, his mom was hugging him, crying and whispering Polish endearments as she rocked back and forth with him in her arms. "It's you, it's you, you're safe!"

It was too much, he hadn't even had a break after Derek's emotional storm, and now she was here and she was holding him and she knew him, and he couldn't stop himself from cracking open and letting every bit of pain he'd ever held in escape in a painful rush. Burying his face against her shoulder, he cried and let himself breathe her in, choking as he felt his dad's hand on his shoulder and grabbing onto it, clinging desperately until his dad swept them both into a hug.

"I got no idea what's going on here," his dad finally said. "Because I could've sworn that I had a nine year old."

"Almost ten," Stiles said with a watery laugh. "I turned ten when mom got s--"

It was too late, and he slumped. "I had a plan. It was going to be good."

"Yeah, you're definitely my kid." Stiles looked up and wiped his face with one hand as his dad ruffled his hair. "Christ, but you look like your mother."

Still watching them, Talia said, "I hate to interrupt, but there's a lot that you need to understand, and there's enough going on that it'd be better to understand it quickly."

"Wilkołak." The word sounded heavy and strange from his mother's lips as she looked over Talia. "Werewolf. It's why I asked you to look for him."

The only comfort Stiles had in his utter shock was that his father shared it. He wasn't prepared for a world where none of this surprised either parent. "Mom, what the hell? You knew?"

"Language!" Smoothing her skirt down, his mom said, "You never did listen when I talked to you about the old stories."

"Perhaps I could start with what Stiles has already told me," Talia said. "And then he can fill in the details, such as exactly why he was having a sleepover with my son."

Defensively, Stiles said, "He'd never seen Star Wars!"

With a tug at his hair, his mom said, "That's not actually child abuse, Stiles."

"We're friends, okay? Back then and now, although the older one knows about the younger one but the young Derek just kind of started putting up with me because I was around, but I think he sorta trusts me, and we needed a day off, the kid could make diamonds with how tightly wound he is." He stopped abruptly and glanced over at Derek's mom, not sure how she would take the assessment of her son.

"Socialization has always been difficult for Derek," Talia said, giving Stiles a hard look as he snorted.

Stiles opened his mouth to apologize but closed it again. "All right. I'm just going to go straight through, okay? Save all questions for the end, keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times, no flash photography."

It should've at least gotten a smile, but no one was even a little amused. He sighed and started talking, getting a bit muddled from time to time - ha! - but mostly getting the information across. He left some things out, but he didn't think they were noticeable around the giant info dump of his entire life for the past several years.

The silence at the end of it was deafening, and Stiles held out his hands like a gymnast sticking the landing. "So, yeah, that's been my life. Thrilling, huh?"

"Are you telling me you spent years lying to me and then didn't even consult me about risking your life with a dangerous spell?" His dad stopped the pacing that had started sometime around when Derek had been arrested for Laura's murder and pointed at Stiles. "Do you know what your mother's been going through while you were playing around with all this?"

"John." It was enough to stop his dad in his tracks and he kicked the wall before sitting down. "You left something out, malpko. Why did you want to do this?"

Sullenly, Stiles said, "I'm not a monkey, Mom." She just gave him a stern look and he spasmed, throwing his arms up in resignation. "Oh my God, fine, seriously? You died. You died and you took both of us with you because we just couldn't function, because I couldn't stand the thought that I could lose Dad too and then I was, and I couldn't find a way back, and the only one that understood any of it was Derek, because he'd lost everyone, all of them, and I wanted to fix it, okay? I wanted things to be better. Because he deserves to have his mom and his sisters and even his creepy-ass uncle if that's what he wants, and because Dad needs you. He always needed you."

Talia's voice cracked through the silence that followed his outburst. "Did you intend for your mother to get the Bite?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "I was going to fix things for Derek and then explain and ask you... We need her."

"The Bite is a lifetime commitment," Talia said. "For both parties. It's not something we offer lightly, and it's a risk."

Crossing his arms, Stiles said, "Stage three ovarian cancer? Not a picnic. You don't want to do it, fine - I'll catch Deucalion before Gerard goes all scorpion on his ass and get him to owe me one. Did you know, by the way, that if a werewolf breathes in a gas, the healing actually works against--"

"Stojgniew! I will not have Mrs. Hale believing that I raised you to be disrespectful to your elders." Stiles closed his mouth but didn't stop glaring at Derek's mom. If she thought he was going to watch his mom die, again, when she could save her... "Weren't you listening? It's a commitment from both parties, and I haven't agreed."

The thought that his mother might refuse had literally never occurred to him, and he couldn't get past the shock to even say anything. His dad resolved his temporary BSOD of the brain by clapping a hand on his shoulder. "It's a lot to take in, for all of us. Can we maybe have a minute to think?"

There'd never been any hope of getting around that tone in his father's voice and so he gave in, but he didn't have to be graceful about it. "Fine. But you can't tell anyone else all this - I don't even know how much I screwed up the timeline by telling you three."

"You'll stay at my house," Talia said. When it looked like the Stilinskis would object en masse, she lifted a hand and added, "It would be too suspicious if a teenager suddenly moved into the house where there's a boy missing. I've taken in strays before, no one will think twice about it."

"How're you going to explain that to Derek? I don't want him to know about any of this stuff - ever, if I could manage it." Okay, maybe it would suck to never get to know the Derek Hale he'd known in the future, but if it meant he was happy, Stiles could deal.

With a withering glance around the room, Talia said, "I'll mention that no one should have to live in a sewer like this."

"Hey, it's a good value for the money! I don't have an endless supply, you know." It was a weak protest, and they all knew it.

The adults exchanged contact information while Stiles finished packing, and then he was pulled into another desperate hug before his parents left and Talia gave him a hard look. "Ride your bike. I'll follow to protect you and send someone back for your things. And if you're lying, or if you harm my son--"

"Death, dishonor, dismemberment," Stiles said. "I get it. And I'd find a way to do the same if it was one of mine, so."

The nod she gave him at that was so much like Derek's that Stiles felt the weird urge to cry.

***

He ended up on a pullout couch in the basement, which gave him both the willies and a sore back. The Hales were... They were nothing like what he imagined, like the normal suburban family that just happened to grow really special orthodontics once in a while. They definitely had a hierarchy, almost like a caste system, and Derek was firmly in the "take orders quietly" group. The weirdest part is that he didn't seem to mind, even when it was Peter bossing him around. It happened a lot, because Peter was the only one who gave orders just to give them.

"Seriously," Stiles told Derek at lunch in the school cafeteria. "What is with the whole 'yes master' routine you've got with Peter? He had you get up in the middle of the movie to go get his socks."

"It's just the way he's always been," Derek said with a shrug. "Fighting about it is never worth the hassle. I always end up doing it in the end anyway, it doesn't make sense to waste time arguing about it."

Shaking his head, Stiles said, "But he's so fucking creepy. Why doesn't your mom do something to make him stop?"

"You think she can make him less creepy? Hate to break it to you, she doesn't actually have superpowers."

Stiles drew back, craning his neck around to look at Derek incredulously. "Was that sass? When did you become sassy?"

"Nobody says sassy, dork." Derek nudged an elbow into his ribs and said, "And I've always been this way, it's just no one ever listened enough to know."

"Dude, your family is huge. The amount of people living under your roof is unfathomable to me. Surely someone was paying attention to the awesome one."

Derek blushed a little, ducking his head. "You keep saying stuff like that."

With a shrug, Stiles said, "I'm an only child, and don't have a time of the month. I'm not kidding when I say I don't understand how your family works."

"Not that, dumbass." Derek chewed on the cardboard pizza like the cafeteria had actually started serving real food. "Whatever. It doesn't matter."

"Hey, I--" Stiles broke off with a frown. "What's Peter even doing here? Again?"

Derek's eyes flickered up, but he wasn't even a little bit concerned. "He's always around. I think he misses being a basketball star."

From across the courtyard, Peter put two fingers together and kissed the joined tips before flicking his hand in their direction. Stiles rolled his eyes so hard that he wondered if you could dislocate your eyeball. "Could he be any douchier?"

"Yes." The fact that he didn't feel the need to say more made Stiles laugh so hard that chocolate milk came out of his nose. Derek just looked at him, finally saying, "I have no idea why I like you. You don't even tell me things."

"I grow on people," Stiles said. "I hang around for a couple of years and eventually people give in to my charms and stop telling me to go away."

Derek snorted and gathered up the trash. "Don't forget, after school."

"Yes, yes, I'll be there," Stiles said dismissively. "I know you're all excited about baby's first detention, but I'm an old pro."

"This is why people say you're a bad influence."

It was a good parting shot, and Stiles let the kid have it, although not without flipping him the bird as he walked off to get to his locker before class. He probably should've started paying some attention in school again, but it felt like the most useless possible thing to do since he was never going to be graded for it and he already knew the material. Besides, the sun was shining and it felt nice to just sit back and take a break from worrying about literally everything.

"Not over here." He cracked an eye open to see why Peter sounded a bit worried, but wasn't willing to commit to actually paying attention without more to go on.

A light giggle followed, and a girl's voice saying, "I have to go this way for class. But, if you don't want to walk with me..."

Peter said something back and their voices started getting softer as they walked away, but Stiles had seen and heard enough to identify the girl as Paige, the girl Derek had been supposed to fall in love with... If Peter had told the story correctly. "Son of a bitch."

Great. So apparently he'd ripped apart the fabric of time and space based on the assumption that Peter had told at least part of the truth. No wonder Derek had called him an idiot. It was nowhere near a strong enough word.

All right, he could do this. He could figure out a new plan. It'd be nice if the older Derek did one of his mysterious appearances, because he kind of missed the stubble and if he was calling Stiles a dumbass then Stiles didn't have to handle it himself, but he could totally do this.

Sadly, the universe responded to his confidence by having his wardrobe malfunction, again. His clothes had started becoming baggier and looser, probably because he hadn't been eating much before moving in with the Hales, but this time his pant leg slipped over his foot just in time to trip him and send him careening down a flight of stairs. Head first because, obviously. The last thing he saw before passing out was Derek's horrified face as he ran towards him, a lot faster than he should have in any kind of public setting.

The first thing he saw when he woke up was Derek's horrified face, which he would have commented on as a neat bit of symmetry if he didn't have a splitting headache and someone in scrubs shining a light in his eyes. "No concussion, but you're going to have some spectacular bruises. You're lucky - a couple of inches off and you'd have cracked your shoulder apart or broken your neck."

"There goes my master plan for excused absences," Stiles muttered. "I was counting on the sympathy to help my GPA."

"From what I hear, you don't have one of those," the nurse said drily. "You realize you can be expelled for failing too many classes, don't you?"

Waving a hand dismissively pulled too many of his bruises, and Stiles winced. "Pencil me in for some more witty repartee when I'm less broken."

Derek's face was twisted into a snarl as he burst out with, "Don't joke about it, you almost died!"

"If I ever stop being hilarious, it'll be because I already did die." Forcing himself to sit up, Stiles said, "Am I free to go?"

"You can wait here for your ride," the nurse said. "We couldn't get a hold of your parents, but Mrs. Hale is on your emergency contacts and so she's picking you up."

Stiles nodded, laying back and closing his eyes for a minute. Poking at where he remembered Derek to be sitting, he said, "You should get to class. They might mark you as skipping."

"Fuck class." Derek grabbed Stiles's hand and held on to it, resting their joined hands against his thigh. It was actually kind of nice.

"I really am a bad influence." Cracking his eyes open to look at Derek's worried face, Stiles said, "Really, it's fine. This isn't even the worst spill I've ever taken down those stairs. At least this time nothing got broken."

Derek's throat produced a little whining growl and his hand tightened so much that Stiles couldn't tug his own hand free. "Hey! Recently broken finger, doesn't need to be mashed to a pulp, thank you."

Horrified, Derek dropped his hand and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay. I promise, I'm okay." Derek didn't seem to believe him, especially when he gave Stiles one last wild-eyed look and then ran out of the nurse's office like his shoes were on fire. That seemed a pretty clear indicator of someone not believing in the general okay-ness of the situation.

Mrs. Hale just seemed amused when she picked him up, shutting herself in her office for a conference call and leaving him to his own devices for the afternoon. Fine by him, since it gave him time to read more about casting silver and about time travel theories and about fighting stances with various weapons. He didn't think about time passing until his phone rang and he frowned at the unknown number before picking it up anyway.

"Tyler, I think... I think I did something bad."

Instantly on alert, Stiles started pulling his shoes on even as he said soothingly, "Hey, Derek, it's okay. I promise, we can fix it."

"Don't come to the school tonight," Derek said. "Just don't, okay? I don't care what the text says, you need to stay home."

Freezing in his tracks, Stiles said, "Derek, what did you do?"

With a break almost like a sob in his voice, Derek said, "I didn't want you getting hurt and Peter said-- It's supposed to be just to talk, but--"

"Where are you now?" Grabbing the baseball bat he'd half buried in wolfsbane petals to absorb the oils, he went downstairs and didn't hesitate in taking Talia's keys off the hook in the kitchen. If she hadn't been paying attention to hear the phone call, then she wouldn't hear the car, either, and this needed to be handled immediately. "Are you at the school? Is Peter there?"

"I don't know, he said to wait in the locker room." Derek took in a sharp breath as Stiles started the car and peeled out, the accelerator almost to the floor. "Tyler, I told you to stay away!"

Grimly, Stiles said, "Not happening. Tell me when this thing is supposed to go down."

"I don't know, he just said to wait." Stiles was almost at the school now, the car fast and responsive as he broke just about every law of safe driving on the books. "I hear something."

"I'm almost there," Stiles said. "Derek, talk to me. I'm almost there and then we're going to get home and your mom's going to flip her lid at my stealing her car, so just talk to me."

When the silence was finally broken, it was Peter's voice on the end of the line. "Derek's busy."

The connection cut out and Stiles threw the phone at the passenger seat, cursing up a storm at the thought of whatever sick plan Peter had and what he was doing to Derek. Worse, what he might be making Derek do, because the last time this story ended up with a dead girl and a traumatized Derek and Stiles was not letting that happen, not again.

There was another car in the lot and Stiles grabbed his phone, shoving it in his pocket before taking his bat and heading inside. The school was no less creepy in the evening than it had been - would be - when it was Peter in his alpha form stalking kids through the hallways.

"Hey! Big bad wolf! Sorry I forgot my red hoodie, but I'm here and ready to go." Stiles banged his bat against the lockers, deliberately making as much noise as possible. "Come out and play, asshole."

"There's really no need to be so crude." Peter stepped out of a classroom, his clawed hand on Derek's throat. "Just like there's no need for either of you to be involved."

Stiles locked eyes with Derek. "You okay?"

Trying to nod despite the claws at his jugular, Derek said, "You shouldn't be here."

"So we'll leave," Stiles said, holding his hands out to his sides. "Me and Derek, we'll just go home. So what if you and Ennis rape and murder a teenage girl? None of my business."

He would've laughed at how shocked they both looked if he couldn't hear the sound of footsteps. "The bite's only a gift if you choose it, asshole. That's Paige, right? She gets the bite, she dies. Good job, fucker. Because it's so much easier for her to beg for death--"

Peter let out a wordless snarl, throwing Derek to one side as he leapt for Stiles with his claws and fangs. Stepping to one side, Stiles got into the stance he'd been taught in Little League, wound up and swung. The impact was enough to make the bat vibrate against his hands, but he tightened his grip and pulled the bat back for another swing, this time aiming low so that he caught Peter's knee and smashed it to pieces.

"That's for Lydia," he snarled, hitting him again and again to keep him from healing. "That's for Scott, that's for me, that's for Derek, you asshole, you fucker, he's your family!"

He had to stop, panting for breath, pushing a blood-slick hand over his forehead to push his hair back. "Ennis. We need to find Ennis."

"I was just enjoying the show." The huge alpha was leaning against the lockers, his eyes gleaming as he watched. Derek was on the ground, clutching his ribs and staring at Stiles with his eyes wide. "You're my new beta."

"Fuck no." Stiles shifted his weight, hands tightening on the bat again.

Ennis smiled, the light glinting on his only slightly elongated teeth. "You need to work on following orders."

"I've been told that before." Stiles moved, keeping his back to the wall while still giving himself room to swing. He needed to get Ennis away from Derek before he tried something heroic and got himself hurt.

Easily matching his pace, Ennis moved forward, lurching as if he was going to attack and laughing when Stiles flinched and swung. "You're going to be a good one. Even better than Peter promised in exchange for biting his little girlfriend."

"Hey, yeah, anyone ever talked to you about consent?" He'd backed up to an intersection in the hallway and tried to look around, to see if Paige had been bitten and was bleeding out somewhere. To see if there was any escape, because Ennis wouldn't go down like Peter had, distracted by rage and clumsy with it. Stiles was looking at the end, but it would be okay. Derek would be okay. "Man, Mama Hale is going to be so pissed."

That was enough to trigger Ennis leaping, wolfed out and snarling. Stiles tried to swing but Ennis caught the bat, his flesh sizzling from the contact with the wolfsbane but not enough, not enough to stop him. Letting himself fall to the floor, Stiles tried crawling after it only to be hauled up by the back of his shirt, the collar digging painfully into his neck as he scrambled to break free.

The shirt ripped and Stiles had never been so grateful for itchy, cheapass cotton in his entire life. He was on the ground again, closer to the bat, and he scrabbled to crawl backwards to it while still keeping Ennis in sight. The alpha grinned, bringing up a clawed hand to swipe down, and that was it, game over, but then Ennis was stumbling as Derek landed on his back, snarling and clawing and biting, until there was a gush of blood and holy shit that was arterial spray and it was kind of cool except this wasn't the time because Ennis was falling and Stiles scrambled to get out of the way as he went down, Derek still on his back and clawing at him.

"Hey! Derek, hey, stop!" Stiles crept closer, trying to avoid the flying claws while still getting a hand on Derek's shoulder. "Stop, he's... You did it, you saved everybody."

Derek shuddered and turned to face Stiles, his eyes glowing a deep, startling red. "I saved you?"

"You did." They were both covered in blood, Derek was still wolfed out, but Stiles didn't even care a little bit about that as he pulled Derek into a hug. "You always save me. You're my alpha, my pack. We keep each other safe."

Derek turned his face up towards Stiles, the wolf fading away as he whispered, "I'm scared."

"We'll get through it together." Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek's forehead and then they were kissing, hard and desperate with tears washing the blood away as they clung to each other.

***

To say that Talia was pissed was such an enormous understatement that Stiles was kind of afraid to even think it. He and Derek sat in silence on the living room couch, hands clasped together as she raged. The main theme was on the sheer stupidity of children thinking they could handle everything on their own, which was fair enough. It was when she started in on Derek for going along with Peter that Stiles shot to his feet. "Hey, lady, that's your fault! What the hell do you think you've been training him to do?"

"Oh my God, Tyler, shut up!" Derek still had a grip on his hand, trying to pull him down, but Stiles wasn't having any of it.

"You run this place like... I don't even know, but it's like you either take orders or you give them, and Derek's got no fucking clue how to do anything except what he's told." Stiles was shaking a finger in Talia's face, and a small, distant corner of his mind whimpered at the likelihood that he was going to be broken into little pieces for the audacity. "What about that triskelion, huh? He's a fucking alpha and he's going to suck at it because you kind of forgot that anyone can rise or fall."

Derek yanked hard enough to pull Stiles back onto the couch, and the breath went out of him in a whoosh. In a harsh whisper, Derek said, "You don't know that I'm going to suck."

"Dude, you think with your claws and follow orders," Stiles said. "Just because I love you doesn't mean I don't see your flaws."

Derek's eyes were shining like stars, like motherfucking suns, and it made Stiles internally review what he'd just said and wince even before Derek breathed out, "You love me?"

"Boys." Forgetting the presence of a badass mama werewolf wasn't something Stiles would've predicted he'd do in this sort of situation, except he'd never really predicted anything like this sort of situation. "We'll be making some changes, starting immediately. Stiles, you'll be moving in with your parents; Derek, you'll be training immediately while we sort out what to do with the pack you inherited."

"He doesn't have parents," Derek said, his hand clutching tighter to Stiles's. "Mom, I need him!"

Her voice like a whip, Talia said, "He almost killed a member of my pack, and almost got you killed. He will not stay under my roof."

"It was all my fault he was there in the first place, he just went after Peter because Peter threatened to kill me!" This time it was Stiles trying to tug Derek back down, and not really doing all that good a job at it. "It's my fault. If I hadn't listened when Peter said we needed to turn him--"

He broke off, looking haunted, and Stiles stood up to wrap his arms around Derek's back and just hold him. "Hey. You did a bad thing, yeah, but you realized it and tried to make it better. It'll be okay."

In a small voice, Derek said, "I thought he was just coming to talk. Peter said we were just going to tell Paige about us and then give you both the option of getting the bite."

"S-- Tyler. Go pack your things. We'll work out when you can visit once we've settled into a schedule for training." Talia put a hand on Derek's chin and tilted his face up to face hers. "I should have taught you more. If it's your fault, then it's also mine."

"Mom, I..." Derek trailed off before throwing himself into his mother's arms, his shoulders shaking even though his face was dry.

Over his shoulder, Talia cut her eyes toward the door and Stiles nodded. He was going to be checking on Derek, there was no doubt about that, but if he trusted Talia enough to know about the time travel, he should probably give her a chance with the whole alpha thing.

If it meant that he also got a delay before having to explain to Derek what he'd meant with his comment earlier in the conversation, well, at least it would give him time to figure it out himself.

***

Stiles was having the best dream ever. Derek was giving him his soul-melting smile and kissing him, scraping his stubble over his neck, trailing his lips down his chest, and whispering his name. Suddenly they were both naked and Stiles was getting his mouth all over the abs he'd be prepared to swear had been carved by angels, and Derek was getting louder, shouting his name as Stiles licked his lips and smiled dreamily. "Yeah, you want my mouth?"

"Stiles, wake up!" That was not a sexytimes shout. That was a pissed off werewolf shout, and it was right next to his ear.

The good news was that flailing awake did not involve giving someone a broken nose, as had happened in the past. The bad news was that, since Derek wasn't actually there, he fell right through and landed on the floor, ass first. "I am totally blaming you if I can't sit down."

"Maybe later," Derek said drily. "When we end this spell, since if I'd gone that far with Tyler, I'd remember."

"I wonder how that's going to work," Stiles said, rubbing his face. Would he just disappear from here again and reappear in his own timeline? Would his parents just have to deal with having a seventeen year old instead of a nine year old? How was he going to make friends with Scott?

He was knocked out of his thoughts by Derek saying, "I've got an annotated list of things to try. Both versions of me worked on compiling it."

Stiles froze, his mind completely blank for a single endless moment. Did he mean killing or sex or possibly neither? Or both. Some days, Stiles could see the appeal of both. "You..."

"The first step is getting you back," Derek said. "Because right now you still disappear, Chris Argent still dies, and I never see you again. No one remembers you except me."

"That's... bad." The derisive snort from Derek was totally unnecessary, and Stiles shook his head. "When? What happened?"

Jamming his hands into his pockets, Derek said, "While I was still grounded. I never got a straight answer, and neither of your parents will talk about it. If I had to guess, knowing both timelines, I'd say it was probably when the distillery was set on fire. That's what took out Chris and most of my family."

"Seriously? What is it with your family and fires?" Stiles buried his face in his hands and said, "Sorry, that was... Wait, my parents? Both of them are alive and well?"

Derek shook his head, looking tired. "They're alive, but they never got over losing you. Your mom ended up with the alpha pack, and your dad... He hasn't been a policeman for a long time. Since the divorce."

After a long moment, Stiles said, "Lift your shirt."

"Is this really the time?" Derek lifted the shirt anyway, showing off the abs that Stiles had recently been dreaming about. Unfortunately, there wasn't time to appreciate the view.

"Get the spellbook I used. If you can't hold it open for me to see, you're going to copy things onto your skin, since I can definitely see that."

It took a long time, with Derek shirtless and writing all over his arms and torso with a grease pencil, but they narrowed it down to two spells that Stiles might have cast, based on what he could remember of the circle he'd woken up in. Derek had flickered in and out more than once, and by the end he looked paler than Stiles had ever seen him, even when he'd had a wolfsbane bullet inside him. "What's the spell you're using to be here?"

"It doesn't matter, I need to see you," Derek said. "I'll be fine, I'll heal."

A flash of memory went through his mind and he poked at a spot near Derek's hips. "That's the spell you're using and it fucking drains your life. Five minute maximum from now on, and only if I change something or you find something out."

"Stiles, I..." Looking away, Derek said, "I need to see you. The memories... I need to know they're real."

"And I need you to be okay," Stiles said. "Because if I do all this and you're not, what's the point?"

Derek scowled but gave him a brief nod before disappearing. As soon as he was sure Derek was gone, Stiles flopped back on the bed and pulled a pillow over his face to scream into. What the hell had he done to his life?

His moment of heartbreak and angst was cut short by his mom coming in after a brief knock, her skirt rustling as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "I heard you talking to yourself, but it sounded too important to interrupt."

"You are so weird," Stiles said, voice muffled by the pillow still over his face. "I never really appreciated how much of me is hereditary."

She snaked her hand under the pillow to run her hands through his hair, the gentle scratch of her nails on his scalp so soothing that he wanted to purr. "We come from a long line of lunatics."

"Ha ha, lunatics, with the moon and the werewolves and everything." She laughed and pinched the top of his ear. "Mom, I don't know what to do. Everything's so crazy and Derek..."

"First love is always complicated." He choked and she patted his head, careful not to dislodge the pillow. "Although you've done a better job than most in making a mess of it."

Groaning, he said, "I don't... It wasn't supposed to... This is some serious Back to the Future bullshit, seriously."

"Language! And he's not your mother, so the analogy is not a good one." Pulling the pillow away, she said, "Get dressed. Nothing helps with woes of the heart like a good meal."

He mumbled something unintelligible and she grabbed his hand, dragging him out of bed just like she'd done a thousand times when he was little. It was still so strange to have her with him, not just a faint memory, and he couldn't even conceive of her joining the alphas. "I think I've got to figure out where Deucalion is."

"Who's Deucalion?" It made him draw back, because he knew he'd told her. "And you complain about your own perfectly good name - at least you're not stuck with something so pretentious."

"Perfectly good isn't the same as awesome," he said automatically, since it was an exchange they'd had many times before. "Did you talk to Mrs. Hale some more about the bite?"

Putting her arms on his shoulders, she said, "I promise, whatever choice I make, it will be mine. This isn't something I ever wanted for myself." She seemed taller, looking him straight in the eyes and not flinching at all, where the last time they'd talked about it she had kept looking away and he'd been struck by how tiny she was, the top of her head barely on a level with his shoulders.

"Mom, the cancer--"

She cut him off by putting two fingers over his mouth and said, "It's my body, sweetheart. You and your dad can make suggestions, but you can't decide."

Stiles had no idea what to say to that and she knew it, smiling again and giving him a hug. He slumped into it, feeling completely out of control. Nothing was going right, and he didn't know how to fix it.

***

On a scale of one to ten, how likely is it that I could sneak over to see you? You're the mathlete, work out my odds.

I'd have to invent a new kind of math to figure out a number so close to negative infinity.

Werewolves suck.

Are you being racist or making a dirty joke?

... Holy crap, was that evidence of a sense of humor?

You're a dumbass.

There's my grumpypants. I knew you wouldn't have gone far.

Could you be any lamer?

Not without surgery.

Will you be at school tomorrow?

Is your mom letting you go back? There's no point if you're not there.

Yes.

So she's calming down?

I don't know. She hasn't mentioned it or you, and she's been spending a lot of time talking to this British guy about a big meeting.

WITH THE ARGENTS?

I don't know, I think so. Why?

asfdewrtfn

English. English is a good language.

I'm coming over.

No! My mom's still furious!

Tyler! Answer me right now.

TYLER

It wasn't really a surprise when the phone started ringing, but he was already on his bike and it was hard enough to stay coordinated without taking a hand off the handlebars to answer the phone. The seat was grinding into some very personal places, but Stiles didn't have the time to stop and adjust it. The phone rang again and again, but it stopped when he was almost to the edge of the woods around the Hale house. He barely had time to brace before a dark shape leapt out at him and he shrieked as he wiped out on the gravel shoulder.

Derek untangled him from the bike while Stiles was still cursing and slapping his hands. "What the hell, you're grounded, your mom's really going to think I'm corrupting you."

"Better that than the guy that beat up my uncle just showing up," Derek said. "It's weird, she forgot everything else about you, but she still remembers that. Well, and that you told her off."

"What do you mean, she forgot?" Stiles stood up straight, forgetting about dusting himself off as at least three separate scenarios vied for the position of worst case.

Derek frowned and looked him over. "You're shorter."

"Maybe you got a growth spurt," he snapped. "There's actual lives at stake, we don't have time for all this."

Grabbing him by the shoulders, Derek shook him and said, "You are the only thing that matters."

"That..." Stiles swallowed hard, trying to look away from Derek and not able to. "That is so very much not true."

"You're an idiot!" Derek's fingers were digging into his shoulders, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "You're an idiot and you never shut up and I know you haven't been telling me the truth since you first showed up and your name isn't even Tyler and I know you don't love me like I love you, but I need you to be safe because I can't be without you, you asshole."

"I love you," Stiles said, his voice distant, like it was from somewhere far away from even him. "I love you so much that I broke time for you, and that's the most you've ever spoken to me, ever, because there's two yous and it's confusing."

Derek frowned, clearly confused, and Stiles only knew that he was crying because he heard it in his own voice when he laughed. "I fell in love with you when I was sixteen."

Cautiously, Derek said, "How old are you now?"

"Nine." He laughed again and it felt like something clawing him up inside. "I'm Stiles Stilinski. I really am staying with my parents."

"You..." Derek dropped his hands, stepping away from him. "If you don't want me--"

Stiles cut him off with a kiss, sharp and quick and clumsy. "The future... Your life is a shitstorm, and I wanted to make it better for you. For me, too, it wasn't just for you, but... I want you to be happy."

"So go home," Derek said. "Be safe, don't go near my mom or the Argents or anybody that could hurt you."

"Can't do it." Stiles was almost giddy from having told him, from just how fucked up everything was but Derek's concerned scowl was still the same. "I need to get to your mom and I need to tell her, again, because otherwise people are going to die and a psychotic old bastard is going to beat the shit out of me in about six years."

Grimacing, Derek said, "You realize you sound completely insane, right?"

"But you believe me," Stiles said. "You know I'm really from the future."

"I wouldn't go that far." Derek looked into the woods and then looked back at him. "Come on, we can at least go look at the distillery. They're not meeting there until later."

Stiles huffed out a breath and said, "Why is it everyone around me is a freaking werewolf but somehow I'm always the crazy one?"

"Uh, because you're crazy?" Derek picked up the bike and frowned. "The seat's too high for you."

"Yeah, I thought my junk was going to be permanently impaired." When he looked up from adjusting the seat, Derek was bright red and looking incredibly guilty. "Dude, you were totally thinking about my junk just now!"

"Shut up." When Stiles just grinned, Derek crossed his arms and said, "Weren't there lives to save?"

Stiles nodded. "There always are. I've just usually been on the other end of that little scenario, so I wanted to enjoy the moment."

He set off, pedaling hard to get up to speed. It was a little annoying that Derek not only ran fast enough to keep up, he wasn't even out of breath. "Before, you... Whose junk?"

"Yours," Stiles said, panting. "Although you were older. It's kind of weird, with baby you."

"I'm not even two years younger," Derek growled.

Seriously, not even sweating? Werewolves were so unfair. "Six. Older. Fuuuuck."

They were most of the way there when Stiles noticed that he was having trouble with the seat again, his clothes sagging as he had to lean closer to the handlebars to hold on. Derek kept shooting him increasingly wide-eyed looks, until Stiles was finally forced to skid to a stop. "I don't have time for this bullshit!"

"We'll get there faster through the woods," Derek said. "Climb on my back."

Grumbling, Stiles tightened his belt, adjusting the knife sheath strapped to it, and grabbed the bag and bat that he had strapped to the bike. "This is so undignified. If you make a Twilight reference, I will knock your fangs out."

"Just do it." Derek rolled his eyes, turning his back to Stiles to hoist him up. Clinging to his neck, Stiles bit his lip and tried not to think about how fast Derek was running, or how it was kind of cool to go through the forest that way. The older Derek would throw him in a tree before giving him a piggyback ride.

There was a spiral carved in one of the tin walls of the distillery, and it made Derek flinch. "That's the symbol for--"

"Vendetta, I know. You told me." Sliding off Derek's back, Stiles looked down at himself and groaned. "If I have to go through puberty again, I'm going to be pissed."

Derek looked at him and winced. "I feel dirty now."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Stiles adjusted his hold on the bat and hoisted his bag up. "Come on, let's check the place out. If they're meeting soon, the ambush is probably set up already."

"I'll look," Derek said. "You hide."

"You really picked up those protective instincts early, didn't you?" Stiles pushed the door open and looked around, scoping out hiding places because, duh, human and breakable, but also vantage points for offense. "There was a chemical agent, I know that. Are there sprinklers?"

They explored, finding the suspiciously well-oiled valves and a cloth which Derek said smelled repulsive. Grimacing, Stiles covered his hand with his sleeve and lifted it to peek underneath. He dropped it quickly, his stomach heaving. "That bastard is sick."

"What? What's under there?" Derek got closer and Stiles waved him back. "Ty-- Stiles?"

"Stick to Tyler for now. I'm still not nine, and I might need to disappear." Brain working furiously, Stiles said, "We have to let him spring the trap. If your mom forgot me telling her about it, nobody's going to listen to us if we try to tell them. Gerard will just blame someone else - probably Chris, since he's the only one who even bothers to think about the Code."

Derek nodded, his eyes flashing. "What was under the blanket?"

"A bat," Stiles said absently, still trying to work out the angles. "With claws hammered into it. I'm guessing that's why the bodies had signs of an animal attack on them. The police file didn't have a lot of information, it's from right when they were digitizing."

The silence went on too long, and Stiles looked up to see Derek, pale and shaky, glancing between Stiles and the rank cloth. Stiles scrambled to give him a hug. "Hey. What's wrong? We'll fix it, I promise. With my brains and your stunning good looks, we can do anything."

Normally that would've gotten him a derisive snort or a blush, but Derek just looked sad as he stood stiffly in the circle of Stiles's arms. "Do you think I'm an animal?"

"What are you, high?" Derek rolled his eyes and stomped away, obviously hurt. Stiles kept his sighing on the inside, although he did wonder at himself for apparently having fallen in love with the world's biggest drama queen. He couldn't even comfort himself by pretending that Derek would grow out of it. "I promise I will give you an epic dissertation later, but the short answer is no. Gerard Argent is a fucking animal, not you."

Derek gave him a quick glance and a nod, which was going to have to be enough. "Now. Plans."

"You're going to hide in the woods," Derek said. "Call my mom and your dad and--"

"I'm going to hide up there," Stiles said, pointing to the rafters. "Come on, I have my supplies in the bag and we don't know when they're coming."

Goggling at what he could see of the contents, Derek said, "How... What... Why?"

"Sneakiness and shady connections, weapons and defense, and because the world is a dangerous place," Stiles said, waving a squirt bottle. "Hold still, this will neutralize our scents. When Gerard strikes, your job is to turn the valves back off. Hold your breath as long as you can, keep your shirt over your face, and don't let whatever it is hit you. Once they're off, get out. I'll be right behind you."

Derek insisted on carrying Stiles up to his hiding place which, okay, was probably a good idea. Stiles had enough room to sit comfortably, even if he couldn't move much, and he amused himself by randomly whispering things to see if he could make Derek laugh. He only stopped when Derek hissed, "Someone's coming."

Deep breath, in and out. Check the magazine, check the safety, check the sightline, round in the chamber and finger outside the trigger guard. He wished he'd been able to get a second gun for backup, but the drug dealers at the motel he'd stayed at hadn't wanted to sell him more than the one; it'd been hard enough to convince them he wasn't going to go shoot up the school when he'd first approached them. The spare clips were close at hand, the one with wolfsbane bullets clearly marked.

He had to stuff his hand in his mouth when his parents walked in, his dad in uniform and his mom standing next to Laura. Most of Derek's family was there, everyone except Peter and the little kids, but when the hunters came in Gerard was missing. Carefully, Stiles eased his phone out of his pocket and started entering a message, trying desperately to make eye contact with Derek.

He couldn't, but the noise of Gerard arriving, looking entirely too self-satisfied, was enough cover for him to send the message he'd written: Check on the house. Argents like fire.

That was enough to make Derek look at him, wild eyed and desperate, but before he could scramble away there was Kate Argent, pointing a gun at Derek and laughing. "Looks like I found a stray puppy. Can I keep him?"

"I had thought we were negotiating in good faith," Gerard said, and started in on a monologue about negotiation or Genghis Khan or something. Stiles was busy quietly dialing 911 and pressing the phone to his ear as he got the gun in his hand and wrapped his shirt around it.

"There's a fire at the Hale house, kids trapped in the basement." Talia's head snapped up first, spotting him immediately, the other Hales following her gaze. "Hurry. They can't get out."

Talia shifted into her wolf form as she sprang for the door, howling as it got slammed shut from the outside just in time for her to batter against it. Deucalion was protesting and Chris was demanding to know what was going on, but Gerard just gave a hand signal and half the hunters pulled out masks as he turned the wheels on the valves, sending out a cloud of gas that had everyone retching and coughing.

Stiles's eyes were watering but he slid the safety off and aimed carefully, breathing harshly as he forced himself to remember his dad's lessons at the range rather than the feeling of helplessness and rage when Gerard had him bruised and bleeding on the ground. He aimed for the center mass and fired.

Someone screamed and another shot rang out, forcing Stiles to stop shaking as he realized that the shot had gone wide and he'd missed, except he hadn't, because the shot went into Gerard's forehead and the hole was small and clean and it didn't look real, but he still fell. The wolves were struggling, some of the hunters trying to fight them or each other, and Stiles fired again as Kate swung her gun around to point in his direction.

"DEREK!" He couldn't see who shut off the valve, but the wolves and hunters had all looked up at his scream, and Stiles tried to figure out how to get down without breaking every bone in his body. He saw Laura almost directly underneath him and jumped, counting on her catching him. "Derek! We need to go to your house, we need to check that the kids are safe!"

Talia had already flung the door open, howling as she ran, and the people who were upright started dragging out the ones that were lying on the ground. Stiles saw it happening, saw his mom and dad trying to reach him, but all he could see was blood on Derek's chest. Stiles didn't breathe, didn't know how he moved until he could put his hands on Derek, feel that he was still breathing.

"He'll be okay," someone was saying, and Stiles nodded dumbly. There were black lines crawling up Derek's arm, but Derek's eyes had fluttered open and he was giving Stiles a smile that looked sleepy and soft.

"Love you," Derek said, and Stiles nodded before the world collapsed into a black tunnel. The last thing he saw was the flash of Derek's red eyes.

***

Stiles woke up with his head throbbing, all his muscles sore as he fought to open his eyes. Derek was looking down at him, his concerned face on and his lips moving despite Stiles not being able to hear any actual sounds. Licking his lips to try to get his own voice to work, Stiles croaked, "Did it work?"

"If you ever risk your life like that again, I'm going to kill you." Derek's voice was rough, like he'd been gargling rocks. Stiles vaguely tried to get up to check on him, but slumped back down to curl up on Derek's lap without any protest when his arms tightened around him. "And then I'm going to bite you and never let you out of my sight."

"Sexy." Stiles coughed, his body bending with the force of it.

Easing him up to sit across his lap, chests pressed together, Derek rubbed his back in small circles and murmured, "Don't say sex for a couple of years, please. You're tiny now, and it's uncomfortable."

"This sucks." Clinging to Derek, Stiles let his eyes drift closed. "Either I go through puberty again with all these memories, or I start forgetting. Maybe you'd forget me, too."

"Don't be stupid, I couldn't forget you." Derek kissed Stiles on the forehead, rocking them back and forth, just enough to let Stiles focus. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Stiles laughed, and felt the pain of it like a dagger in his chest. "Not the time for jokes, wolfman."

"Don't have a sense of humor, future boy." That time when he laughed, it didn't hurt. Stiles dragged his eyes open to look at Derek, who blushed and looked sheepish. "I'm not supposed to be taking your pain, since the ambulance is going to be here any second."

"Fuck 'em. You take as much as you want," Stiles said, leaning into Derek's touch.

They were quiet for a minute and Stiles's eyes started to drift closed again, but Derek rocked him a little and murmured, "Hey, stay with me."

"I want to," Stiles mumbled. "Want you forever."

"You're stuck with me." Derek ran his hand over Stiles's hair, making him shiver. "I'll make you fall in love with me again if I have to. When you're sixteen."

Lifting a hand to cup Derek's cheek, Stiles said, "I like this you. I like both yous, but I only knew the leather and stubble and grr and pain and muscles on muscles you, before. The mathlete's pretty cool, though."

"Stiles." Was that the first time he'd said his name? It was hard for Stiles to remember, and he blinked hard, the light changing from the darkness of the old distillery to the bright white of a hospital room and then back again, each change punctuated by a sweep of his eyelashes and a Derek calling his name, one then the other, until he couldn't tell which was the fifteen year old Derek's voice and which one was the twenty-three year old. They blended together, and Stiles had the vague thought that they should, since they were one and the same.

He tried to pull up his hand to touch Derek's face, but his arm seemed to be pinned down and he grunted with the effort of trying to move it. "Stubble's back."

"It's not new," Derek said drily. "Only you could manage to knock yourself out in the middle of the woods, at night, by yourself."

It felt like his head was splitting open, and Stiles brought his hands up to cover his face. "It was like I was hypnotized. I just had to go out there - except that I'd gone out there to cast a spell. Why would I cast a spell?"

Derek caught his breath so sharply that Stiles could hear it. Stiles didn't think he'd ever seen him look so pale. "We won, didn't we? We kept the hunters from... Oh my God, I killed Gerard, I shot him, I..."

"You remember." Derek leaned over him, his eyes intense as he gripped Stiles's face with both hands, fingers splayed through his hair and pressing in just enough that it felt like he was holding Stiles's skull together even as all his thoughts tried to fly in different directions.

He let himself lie there, staring into Derek's mutable eyes as he tried to sort through the contents of his head without screaming. Yesterday he'd hung out at Scott's, trying to pretend he wasn't thinking about Boyd and Erica and the alphas. Yesterday his mom had told him she wasn't sure about taking the bite. Yesterday he'd gone to the beach with Derek and a bunch of other friends, trying to work up the nerve on the ride back to tell Derek that he liked him.

"Fuck," Stiles whispered. "I should've gone for it, you totally would've let me kiss you last night by the bonfire."

"That's what you're getting from all this?" Derek bent down and kissed his forehead, pulling away when Stiles tried to reach for him. "Not until you're cleared by the doctor."

"Get them in here, then." Crossing his arms huffily, Stiles said, "I have too many memories and not enough, but there's definitely too many needles in my life right now."

Derek pulled his chair around so he could sit comfortably, close enough to look at Stiles and hold his hand. "You're dehydrated and being held for observation. Again."

"How often does this happen?" Fighting to remember specific things just made the memories slip away, and Stiles grunted with frustration. "Is Scott with Allison or Isaac? I can't tell if we met in school or if you introduced us - oh my God, you did that deliberately so I'd have my bro! You're awesome, but I so need a filing system for my mind."

With a small smile, Derek said, "I've got sad Stiles, Tyler, and this Stiles, all in my head. It's going to take some getting used to, having all of you here. It was kind of... lonely, when I was the only one who remembered our other selves."

Stiles wasn't sure how to process that, to think about how Derek would have felt when Stiles forgot everything about the two of them. Hazily, he could just about remember waking up crying in a stranger's arms and confused about why his mom and dad had flashing gold eyes. "You were..." It was too much to deal with, the thought of the pain and loss that Derek must have felt, and Stiles licked his lips and changed the subject. "My mom and dad... Both of them?"

"Your dad was dying from the gas in the distillery. Your mom had already taken the bite, and my mom wasn't about to deny your family anything." Derek smiled wryly. "You were kind of a hero."

Memories filtered through more easily now that he was just letting them come, and he whispered somberly, "Peter burned."

"He protected the kids," Derek said. "Whatever he did before that... He saved the kids."

Stiles closed his eyes, thinking of the Cora who'd listened to Peter's fucked up story with him, and of the one who'd been a year behind him in school and hung out with him when Derek was babysitting. "Oh my God, you were my babysitter. I feel so dirty right now."

"That got kinda awkward. Catching you jerking off when you were still young enough to be gross was not fun."

"Hey, I was never gross!" Stiles pulled his hand away from Derek's, waving it for emphasis. "It was a normal exploration of my beautiful growing body."

The look Derek shot him made his position perfectly clear on being more than completely done with the topic. Snickering, he said, "Kid Derek would've been all over that. He liked me."

"Took you long enough to figure that out. Laura and Peter were assholes about how obvious I was, and you still just blithely tried to set me up with some random girl."

"I think she might have been Peter's girlfriend," Stiles said. "Or maybe she would have been yours, if I hadn't seduced you with my... Whatever it was I did."

"The other Derek's memories of that time are blurry. I don't know if that means his memory got changed or if he just didn't know her." A nurse came in to check on Stiles and the conversation stopped while she updated the chart with his vitals and avoided giving a straight answer about when he'd be able to leave.

When she left, Derek had a piece of paper in his hand, worn out from having been folded up for so long. Stiles recognized it, but it took a minute to realize it was because Derek had kept it in his wallet for as long as he could remember. "Am I finally going to get to know what that is?"

"Remember I mentioned I had an annotated list? I managed to boil it down to one bullet point." Derek smiled, the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks, and Stiles thought he might just spontaneously combust from how hotadorablesexy it was. "And you just... You saw me, you got me, you didn't take any shit, and you were incredibly hot. That's all."

"I recognize the technique," was what Stiles intended to say, but the words died in his throat when Derek leaned over the bed and kissed him, a slow touch of lips that was sweet and dirty and hot, lips and tongues and teeth meshing like the end of a fairytale. Stiles sank his hands into Derek's hair and whimpered, pulling him closer, anchoring them together as he tried to get more because it was everything and it was never going to be enough, he was always going to want more because this was Derek and he was something better than perfect.

He moaned as Derek pulled away, and he would've been embarrassed at how needy he sounded if he'd had the brainpower to spare for it. Derek's mouth was red and it made Stiles want to lick his stupid perfect lips and then bite them again. The nurse came in again, scowling at Derek as she shooed him out, telling him not to come back if he couldn't behave himself, and Stiles was forced to lie back and watch him go.

The paper in his hand crinkled and Stiles opened it carefully, wondering when exactly Derek had given it to him.

What I'm Going to Do With the Man I Love Once I Get My Hands On Him:

• Love him

•  In every way
•  In every position
•  Forever

"Oh my God, I am going to have so much sex with that goober."

The crashing noise outside the room seemed a pretty clear indicator that Derek hadn't actually gotten that far away yet, and Stiles laughed until he ran out of air.