"Stiles! Stiles, dude, I was calling you all last night. Where the hell have you been? Do you know how worried I was? Isaac said you got attacked by a pair of Alphas and Derek-" Scott was rushing toward Stiles where he stood at his locker.

"Hello to you, too," Stiles cut him off, sarcasm heavy in his tone. He wasn't in the mood for this. He'd woken up that morning confused, bruised and late.

Stiles shoved his backpack into the locker and pulled out a notebook and his geometry text. He took a deep breath and turned to Scott as he closed his locker. "Yes, I got attacked and yes, Derek saved my ass. End of story."

"End of story? Are you freaking kidding me? You could've died! Why were you even over on that side of town? You were supposed to meet us at the-"

"Look, can we talk later? I'm gonna be late for geometry."

Scott gave him a confused look. "Geometry? Dude, didn't you have your geometry exam yesterday? Because I'm pretty sure we have our econ exam right now."

"Econ-? Ahh, dammit!" Stiles then slammed his head against the locker. "Exams. We have exams today." Shit.

"Yeah. Didn't you study?" Scott hedged.

Stiles rounded on him. "No, I didn't freaking study, Scott. I was too busy running for my life through the woods and hiding in a labyrinth of tunnels underneath the forest. You could say it slipped my mind."

Scott backed down, shoulders slumping. He raised his eyebrows in that puppy-dog way that only he could. "At least it's the last day of school?" he said, making it a question.

Stiles deflated, taking a deep breath. "Yeah. Come on, let's go." They'd slid into Finstock's classroom right as the final bell was ringing, earning them a look.

The exam wasn't bad - multiple choice, and Stiles was pro at multiple choice. He spent the almost-hour left over trying to figure out what had happened the night before. He didn't remember much after he passed out, but he'd pieced together enough. Now he was just trying to figure out what compelled Derek to carry him home instead of just waking him up.

The bell rang and Stiles jerked up, almost toppling over. He caught his balance and looked around to see students who were scrambling to finish and others who looked like the bell had woken them up. He grabbed his exam and his books and answered Scott's pointed look with raised eyebrows.

After they'd handed in their exams to a grumpy Finstock, Scott dragged Stiles into the gymnasium. Stiles spent the walk trying to distract Scott.

"Question 37. You put B, right?"

"We had different versions of the exam, Stiles," Scott said flatly, not falling for it.

"Finstock, he look like he's gained weight?"

"Really? You're going there?"

"Allison's top. Was it new?"

"Yes," Scott growled out, grabbing Stiles' left arm and pulling him up into the bleachers. "Now, spill."

"Ouuuuch. Human, remember?" Stiles said, rubbing his already bruised arm. He tugged his hoodie back into place over his shirt and flannel.

Scott's eyes pinched together and Stiles saw him try to sniff subtly and fail. He leaned back, but Scott grabbed him by the shoulder and tugged the shirts up on his left side, exposing bruised ribs and stomach.

"Whoa!" Stiles jumped back just a second too late, breaking free of Scott's grip and shoving the clothes back down. "Dude, you can't just-"

"Stiles, what the hell happened to you?" Scott's eyes were wide. All of his body language radiated concern and Stiles knew he was seconds away from wolfing out.

"I – I fell down, okay? When I was running. I just – Okay, let me start from the beginning." Stiles sighed, and flopped back down unto the bleacher bench, head falling unto his hand. "I was on my way over to Lydia's after school yesterday-"

"Why were you going over there?" Scott asked.

"Because Jackson's finally gone and she's the only one that can translate that text," Stiles answered in an obviously tone.

"Oh. But I thought I told you to meet us at the rail station?"

"Yeah, well, I felt my talents could be more useful elsewhere," Stiles evaded.

"Stiles."

"Anyway," he said, ignoring Scott. "I took Maple, over by the Preserve, hoping to avoid traffic and well, that backfired." Scott raised his eyebrows when Stiles paused. "I noticed I was being followed by this big black SUV, and I turned into the Preserve to try to lose it, but well, that also backfired because they followed me and ran me off the road."

"You were being followed by a mysterious vehicle and, knowing that our town is full of killer Alpha werewolves, decided it was a good idea to hide in the woods?" Scott asked incredulously.

Stiles gave Scott his best not helping face and continued.

Scott didn't interrupt again, as Stiles told him about how he fell and the conversation that followed. Scott's eyebrows pinched together when Stiles told him about the twins and hardened into an angry line when Stiles told him that they "wanted" him, whatever that meant.

"When Derek showed up, I was like, shocked. And remember when Isaac showed us that flashbomb thing Derek has them all carrying around?" Scott nodded. "Well, I saw that Derek had one in his hand. They bitched about territory and one of the twins attacked Derek, slicing up his leg. But like, dude didn't back down. They told him if he didn't get out of the way they were going to kill him and he just stood there."

Stiles paused, thinking about that and the conversation that he and Derek had later. Derek was ready to die for him. He thought Stiles was pack.

"Stiles? What happened next?" Scott asked him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, um." Stiles thought back. "The flashbomb." He continued the story, telling Scott about the tunnel system and what Derek told him about its history, and how they'd had to wait for Derek's leg to heal.

He didn't tell Scott what Derek said about why he saved him. Stiles wasn't really sure why, he just felt like that was private. And he also wasn't sure how Scott would react to the pack comment.

After Stiles was done with the story, they were both quiet for a moment. Stiles was tense, leg bouncing up and down and shaking the bleachers. He ran a hand through his not-so-buzzed hair. Hm, he needed to do that soon.

"Why do they want you?" Scott asked suddenly. It was obvious he was freaked out.

Stiles shrugged. "Isn't it obvious?" Scott looked confused. "I'm awesome!" Scott didn't look amused. "Look, I don't know why. But it doesn't matter, they didn't get me."

"But that doesn't mean they're gonna stop trying!" Scott's voice rose to a shout.

Stiles just sighed, shoulders slumping and head falling into his hands. His chest was clenching, Scott's worry starting to bring up fears he'd been refusing to acknowledge. "I know."

"Stiles. . . what are we gonna do?"

Stiles shrugged. "Nothing. It's not a big deal."

"Stiles, you were attacked by Alpha werewolves. You can't just ignore this."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not gonna let you."

Stiles was about to protest more when the lunch bell rang. He leapt up, almost slipping, arms flying wildly to catch his balance. Scott just laughed and hopped to the floor, waiting while Stiles stumbled down after him. He gave Scott a small shove and they started towards the cafeteria.

"This conversation isn't over," Scott warned him. Stiles made a face, but didn't respond.

When they'd gotten their food and were headed to sit down, Isaac waved them over. Stiles started in the opposite direction, but Scott just rolled his eyes and pulled him back. Stiles huffed but gave Scott a lead-the-way gesture with his tray, who headed over after a longing glance at Allison and Lydia's table.

Isaac was sitting with Erica and Boyd, and Scott and Stiles plopped down across from them. Stiles hadn't even picked up his fork when Erica started in on him.

"What the hell are you playing at, Stilinski? Your stupidity almost got Derek killed! Why were you even-" She was half out of her seat, bracing arms on the table, when Isaac cut her off.

"Erica," Isaac said evenly. He laid a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down into the seat. Stiles had drawn back and was glancing back and forth between the betas.

Erica huffed and pursed her lips, but kept quiet. Scott jumped in.

"So, now that we're all caught up on what happened, what are we going to do about it?" he asked.

"Wait wait wait," Stiles said. "I'm not caught up." He was met with a round of scrunched eyebrows. "Why did Derek want us all to meet at the rail station yesterday?"

"You'd know that if you'd shown up," Erica said icily.

"I had somewhere else to be," he shot back in the same tone.

"And how did that work out for you?"

"Guys!"

Stiles swallowed his reply and gave an apologetic look to Scott. Boyd was smirking.

"Derek wanted to fill you both in about Jackson. He's not happy about the punk skipping town," Isaac said, his tone making it obvious he wasn't losing sleep over it.

"Why did he want to talk to us about it?" Scott asked.

The three betas shared looks; Boyd shifted uncomfortably.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"I'm gonna leave that to Derek. It's. . . complicated." Isaac twirled a fork in his fingers as he spoke.

A thought struck Stiles. "Wait. If Derek was supposed to be meeting you all at the rail station last night, what was he doing in the south side of the Preserve? That's like, nowhere near there."

Boyd answered this time. "He was looking for something over at the Hale place. On his way back, he caught a whiff of the Alphas and followed it to your Jeep."

"How'd he know it was – oh." Stiles cut himself off at the look in Boyd and Erica's eyes. "Right. Well, speaking of my Jeep, how did it end up in my driveway this morning? Last I remember, it was sitting wide open in the middle of the woods about five miles from my house."

"Derek called us and sent us out to get it. Made all of us go. At 1am." Erica didn't sound too pleased about that fact.

"Right." Stiles glanced at her warily before turning his attention to Isaac. "Sorry about that. So, when Derek didn't show up yesterday. . . ?"

"We waited around for him for almost an hour and when he didn't show, we went over to the mansion to look. Ran in to Peter," Scott explained.

"Yeah, that's always an adventure," Isaac piped in.

"What happened?" Stiles asked.

"What always happens with Peter," Scott said, rolling his eyes. "He was cryptic, creepy and absolutely no help."

"Helped us waste nearly three hours," Boyd said.

Stiles raised his eyebrows in question.

"Don't ask," Scott said with a little shake of his head.

Stiles was tempted to ignore Scott's request, but then he caught an odd little look between his best friend and Isaac. He knew Scott, knew to leave well enough alone, but he catalogued it for a later conversation.

"I have a question," Boyd said suddenly, looking right at Stiles, who gave a questioning expression. "What do the Alphas want with you?"

"My dashing good looks and charm," Stiles replied with a wink.

"No, no, he has a point," Isaac said. "This is the first time they've targeted a human."

"Did they say anything to you before Derek showed up?" Erica asked.

"Well, they expressed an interest in kicking my ass, but that's pretty much par for the course for the werewolves in my life," Stiles told her pointedly.

"Did you ever think maybe it's just you?" she asked snottily.

"Hey," Scott cut in again. He leaned in and dropped his voice to a soft whisper that Stiles could barely hear. "Watch it with the werewolf talk. We have ears on us." He jerked his head over his left shoulder and they all glanced back to where Danny sat by himself at the next table, head tilted slightly in their direction.

At the sudden quiet, he turned to glance briefly to find all their eyes on him. He immediately busied himself with his food, head falling down and shoulders hunching up.

Stiles asked a random question about their exams to change the subject and they made almost painful conversation with each other until the end of lunch. Just before the warning bell rang, all four of the werewolves' phones buzzed at the same time, all with the same message. Come to the rail station right after school –Derek. Stiles frowned, grabbing his tray and standing with the rest of the group to head to their next exams. Was he not invited this time?

Just as he reached his locker though, his phone buzzed. Yes, you, too. Actually show up this time. Stiles quirked a half-smile, grabbed a notebook and pencil and headed to English.

The English exam wasn't quite the breeze that Econ had been. Twenty short answers and an essay. How could this possibly go wrong?

It took all his will power to focus through the short answer portion, mostly questions about motifs and transcendentalism and Shakespeare. In the rush, he'd forgotten his Adderall this morning, and his mind was trying to pull him in several different directions. When he got to the essay prompt though, something about Julius Caesar, he lost concentration, his mind automatically jumping to the Latin texts that were really to blame for yesterday's fiasco.

Every time the Alphas had made a move, they'd left behind something for the pack to find. The first was found on Erica when they'd returned her and Boyd to the front porch of the Hale mansion, sans memories. Using some kind of wolfsbane ink, the Alphas has burned the text into the skin of her forearm. Hoc patriumst, potius consuefacere filium sua sponte recte facere quam alieno metu. It had taken weeks for the marks to completely fade.

The second had been written in blood. Foreseffregitatqueinaedesirruit. It was on the back door of Isaac's house, just before the Alphas blew it up. Erica had managed to capture an image of it on her phone before the flames consumed it and the house collapsed.

The last had been just a couple of weeks ago. Lydia got in the way of an attack on Jackson, resulting in a bite to her upper arm, so they'd taken her instead. The Alpha female left Jackson's memory of the attack, which Stiles secretly thought it was to make him feel guilty, along with a message. Quid illi tandem credits fore animi misero quicum illa consuevit prius, qui infelix haud scio an illam misere nunc amat, quum hanc sibi videbit praesens praesenti eripi, abduci ab oculis? Thankfully, the Alphas had returned Lydia the next morning, dropping her on the side of the road just outside of town. She'd been found and taken to the hospital, where she was treated for the same "allergic reaction" as last time. They weren't sure if the Alphas had known about her immunity or not, but they seemed to have figured it out.

Stiles had spent hours scouring the internet, searching for a way to translate the texts, but he found nothing. It was in the same Archaic Latin as the Argent's bestiary, which meant Lydia was the only one that could translate it.

Derek had been strict on leaving her out of it after Jackson's threats, trying to extend an olive branch, get him to cooperate. But now he was gone, so maybe Stiles would make another attempt to talk to her after the meeting tonight. He would avoid Maple St.

Stiles sighed. The key to what the Alphas were after had to be in those messages. They were leaving them for a reason. Or maybe they were just toying with them, trying to distract them from the bigger picture. Either way, they wouldn't know until they had them translated.

The bell rang and Stiles nearly jumped out of his seat in a flail of legs and arms. Fuck. He was out of time with no essay.

Except, when he looked down, he saw that he'd been writing through all of his musings. Well, um, that would just have to work. He did a quick scan to make sure he hadn't written the word werewolf anywhere and handed it in.

When he and Scott walked into the chemistry classroom, he took a deep breath. One last exam stood between him and summer break. Of course it had to be Harris.

He sat down and was about halfway through his exam when it started with a whisper from behind him. "Stiles."

Stiles paused, eyes narrowing. Was that Danny's voice?

"Stiles." Definitely Danny. He desperately wanted to turn around, but Harris was glaring right at him.

"Hey. Stiiiiles." Stiles was trying to ignore him and finish his exam, but he couldn't focus. It was taking all of his concentration to keep from responding to Danny. Harris was looking at him with this expression that was almost begging him to give him a reason to put Stiles in detention.

"Hey, I know you can hear me." Letting out an angry breath, Stiles closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. What the hell could be so important it couldn't wait until after their last exam?

"Dude, please, can we talk?" Danny sounded upset.

Harris finally looked down, shuffling at his papers, but Stiles still didn't want to risk it.

"Stiles." How the fuck did Harris not hear him? "Stiles, please."

"Oh, my God, what?" Stiles snapped, turning, leaking as much annoyance as he could into the whispered words.

"Detention, Mr. Stilinski. There's no talking during an exam."

Stiles turned to gape open-mouthed at the teacher, whose grin was showing through his stern expression.

"Wha- No, it was Danny-"

"I would advise you stop talking before I flunk you for cheating."

Stiles' eyes widened, but he bit back his words. He turned to glare at Danny. The dude was definitely on Stiles' shit list.

And then he raised his hand. "Mr. Harris, it actually was my fault," Danny said, voice remorseful.

"Well, then, Mr. Mahealani, you can join him in detention. Now everyone, get back to work," Mr. Harris said, turning his glare to the rest of the students.

Turning back around to throw one last glare at Danny, Stiles' eyes narrowed as he noticed the quirk in the corner of his lips. Was he-?

You know what? No, forget it. He still had an exam to finish. He exhaled slowly, seething, and then turned his attention back to the chemistry exam.

When the bell rang, Stiles was looking over his answers, praying he didn't fail so he wouldn't have to spend another year with the monster at the head of the classroom. He rushed out of the classroom, shooting a text to Derek. Detention. Then he headed to grab his bag so he wouldn't have to later and Scott met him at his locker.

"Only you could manage to get detention on the last day of school," he teased.

"That was not my fault and you know it," Stiles said, gesturing with his arm, pointer finger out.

Scott laughed. "Yeah, I do. Wonder what's up with Danny."

"I don't know, but dude's pissing me off. I think he got me detention on purpose," Stiles told him, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Scott's eyebrows rose at that, but Stiles continued before he could ask. "Listen, I've got to go. I'll come by the after detention."

He ran into Erica on the way back to Harris' classroom. Well, actually, she ran into him. Hard. He stumbled back but managed not to fall and gave her a scowl in response to her sweet smile.

When Stiles walked back into the classroom, he took a seat in the very back as Mr. Harris watched him with amused eyes. Danny walked in and looked around a moment before walking over to take the seat right next to Stiles, who just glared at him and scooted his chair as far over as possible.

"Boys, welcome to your final detention of sophomore year. It's unfortunate that we have to spend the first hour of your summer vacation sitting in here, but maybe this will teach you not to talk during an exam," Mr. Harris told them, voice smooth and flat.

Stiles' face scrunched up and he grumbled nonsensically for a moment before dropping his head onto his forearms, looking out the window. Maybe he would just take a nap.

"Jackson came to see me just before he left," Danny said quietly from next to him after a while.

Stiles ignored him, determined not to respond.

"He told me everything."

Stiles' head twitched slightly in Danny's direction, eyes narrowing. Everything?

His voice dropped to a whisper. "Werewolves, kanimas, hunters. All of it."

Stiles snapped up, staring open-mouthed at Danny. "I- um. I mean, what?"

"C'mon, I know you know. I'd already figured out some of it just from overhearing you in chemistry. That's why I wanted to talk to you." Stiles opened his mouth to deny, then caught the look in Danny's eyes. His anger at Danny evaporated; it wasn't fair that Jackson had just dropped this on him and left.

He swallowed. "Why me?" he asked, voice low.

"Jackson said you're normal. And I could kind of use normal right now," Danny told him, eyes looking down.

"You know, it's sad that in the current state of my life, I'm the normal one," Stiles mused with a smirk. Danny gave him a flat stare. "Okay, not funny. So, um, what'd you want to talk about?"

Danny looked back down, sighing. "How do you deal with all this?" he asked.

Stiles drew back with an exhale that ended in a little laugh. "Um, I just do? I don't know, man, you find out your best friend's a werewolf and you gotta kind of just roll with it."

Danny gave him a weird look. "How did you find out?" he asked.

Stiles thought back to that day. "Well, actually, I told him." Danny looked up, a confused expression on his face. "Long story. Not important. You just, you have to get over thinking you know anything about anything and you'll do just fine."

"That's pretty much how I feel right now."

Stiles smiled, arms open. "See, you're already off to a great start."

Danny quirked a small smile before his face fell again. "He's not coming back."

"Who's not coming back?" Stiles asked, caught off guard by the change in subject.

"Jackson. He's planning to ditch his parents and take off."

"Oh. Well, I mean, can you blame him?" Stiles asked. Danny's head snapped up to look at Stiles, eyebrows scrunched. His voice dropped low and he threw a glance at Harris to make sure he was still occupied. "Dude killed, like, a lot of people. And I know it wasn't really him, but that's a lot of guilt to have to keep reliving, walking around the same town every day, seeing their families," Stiles explained.

"That doesn't mean he had to just leave!" Danny snapped. Mr. Harris looked up, raising eyebrows at the boys. He gave a stern look in both their directions, then returned to the exams he was grading.

When Stiles spoke again, it was quieter. "I think he needed to, Danny. Maybe he'll come back once he's sorted through his shit." Hopefully not, but it seemed like Danny needed to hear this.

Danny met his eyes, and then nodded.

"But I don't get it. Why did he tell you now?" Stiles asked.

"He said it was to protect me, I guess. Said knowing was safer than not knowing what was going on," Danny told him.

Stiles snorted, causing Danny to look confused. "Dude, I spent last night running and hiding from Alpha werewolves. Safer is not exactly how I would describe my experiences."

Danny quirked an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

"Wha-? I – it wasn't my fault! I wasn't doing anything, I was just driving down the road!" Stiles sputtered out.

"Sure," Danny responded. "Then why were they after you?"

Stiles looked down, playing with his fingernails. "I – I don't know."

"Oh." He seemed to catch the tone in Stiles' words and grew quiet.

They sat like that for a little while. Stiles was trying to swallow down the fear and uncertainty that was clawing its way up his throat. He was also kind of pissed at Jackson. How could he drag his best friend into this, and then just leave him defenseless?

Unless he actually believed it would keep Danny safer; then he was just a dumbass. At least he and Scott had each other. Danny had no one to help him deal with this.

They must have sat in silence longer than Stiles realized because suddenly Mr. Harris was dismissing them with a snide comment and a fake smile and they were heading out the door. When they reached the front doors, Stiles paused, putting a hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Look, I know we're not like, friends or anything, but if you ever want to talk about this stuff or whatever, just call me." Danny should still have his number from when they were lab partners.

Danny looked at him a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, okay. Thanks."

At that, they opened the doors and headed towards their respective vehicles. Except Stiles' Jeep wasn't there. In its place was a sleek black Camaro with a certain Henley-clad Alpha leaning against the hood.

Stiles stormed over, throwing arms in the air. "Dude, what the fuck? Where's my Jeep?"

"I had Boyd drop it off at your house," Derek told him flatly.

"What? How did he even-" Stiles cut himself off, remembering Erica's shove in the hallway. He pursed his lips, exhaling sharply out his nose. "Really? Don't you think that's a bit excessive?"

"Stiles, there is a pack of Alpha werewolves after you and we don't know why or if they'll try again. So, no, I don't." Derek pushed off from the car and walked around to the driver's door.

Stiles just stood there. "Dude, you can't just – it's not like you can follow me everywhere."

Derek raised his eyebrows at that in what Stiles liked to call his "bitchface." "Get in the car, Stiles." He threw his eyes down to indicate the car as he pulled open the car door and then got in.

Stiles briefly considered just walking home to prove a point, but Derek would probably just follow him and manhandle him into the car. He sighed and stalked forward, grumbling as he threw himself down into the passenger seat.

"Happy?" Stiles snarked.

Derek didn't respond, giving him a side-eye and Stiles would've sworn he saw a twitch of Derek's lips as he started the car and whipped out of the parking lot.