Authors Notes: Hello! Long time I know! I feel like these things always end up being a list of excuses but not today. For those who are worried about me not completing the story, don't fret-I will finish. If everything goes to plan the next is the last one. I will finish, I just happen to be a busy person so it takes time to sit and write, which you all know intimately because you all wait so long for these updates. I just want to say thank you to everyone for reading and sticking with this story-it's been a long process but it'll be coming to an end soon. The earlier chapters are unbeta'd so I am currently going through them, revamping them slightly and getting them edited so it's a better read-not with all mistakes polluting everything. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I always read them immediately, even if I don't respond right away- they keep me going. Big thanks to my bestie Richelle for being the beta for this chapter-you do an amazing job. Enjoy everyone and let me know what you think!

Chapter 16: Wanted

Stiles

Stiles tapped the wheel of the jeep nervously as he made his way to school. It was Monday morning and had just left Derek's after the whole weekend. Derek decided that it would be better if they both left separately, thinking it would look too suspicious if they pulled in at the same time… Well, suspicious if anyone was looking for them. At this point, it could be a whole host of people, but it didn't really matter to Stiles. He was sure that the school board and the Sheriff's department were waiting for him and Derek to show up.

The rest of the weekend had passed by in a surprisingly uneventful way. Stiles ran some errands with Laura on Saturday after he and Derek got back from their drive. He honestly didn't want to leave Derek's side; he needed him, like that day in the car after the graveyard. Stiles had been talked-out and was done going through the motions of what had happened—all he really wanted now was the comfort of being by Derek's side, but Laura pushed and practically begged. Stiles had trouble turning the woman down after that. He hung out with Scott the next day, just catching up on the lost weeks that, in some ways, felt like months.

It felt good to escape with Scott for a while. Scott had the ability to take Stiles out of his head and place his focus elsewhere. He did it for Stiles when his mother died, and Stiles knew that Scott was doing it for him again now. Scott surprisingly asked how Derek was and admitted that it was going to be awkward seeing the teacher in the halls, knowing that he was dating his best friend. He told Stiles he might go have 'the talk' with him, man to man. Stiles would love to have a front row seat to that show: Scott trying to intimidate Derek? Stiles had laughed at the thought.

He pulled into the school parking lot and immediately began searching for signs of a vehicle from the Sheriff's department. Stiles released a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he discovered that the coast was clear—on the outside. That didn't mean that there wasn't anyone past the school doors, waiting for him and Derek. Stiles got his cell phone out once he'd parked the jeep in his usual spot. He fired off a text to Derek letting him know that the coast was clear (so far.)

Stiles grabbed his bag from the backseat, thinking back to the conversation he had with Derek last night. If they did get pulled into an office and questioned, what exactly would they say? Would they deny it? Would they admit to having a relationship? Stiles anxiously told Derek that they should deny whatever the authorities accused them of. Other than Stiles' father, there wouldn't be anyone to really testify about seeing them together. The only other people who had seen them were Kate and Laura. Laura would go to the grave with their secret, and Stiles felt that Kate could easily be discredited in a court of law. Derek had been silent for a while before he finally admitted that he didn't want to hide it—If Stiles' father did decide to report Derek, he wanted everyone to know that he didn't believe their relationship was wrong, because it wasn't. Sure, there were boundaries as a teacher that he should never have crossed, but he could legally date Stiles. Derek told Stiles that he wasn't going to feel guilt or shame for loving him, and that he wanted everyone to know it, especially the people who were going to cast judgment onto them.

Stiles didn't know how to respond, honestly feeling conflicted. Sure, he was flattered that Derek didn't want to hide, but he could deal with hiding if it meant Derek got to keep his job. Hiding their relationship for a full year would be hard, but it would also be worth it in the end. But once he really thought about what Derek had said, he knew it was right. It was the principle of people accusing them, or Derek, of doing something wrong when that simply wasn't the case. Derek loved Stiles enough to put him first, instead of denying their relationship. Denial would make it out to be something that he was ashamed of—and that was not the case.

Either way, Stiles hoped he didn't get bombarded as he entered the school because if this was going down today, he really needed to have Derek by his side.

Stiles was going to have an anxiety attack any moment, he was like a ticking time bomb. There was a weight on his chest that only got heavier and heavier in each passing moment, with him not knowing when it was going to become too much for him to handle. It was already the period before lunch and there was no word about anything. Neither he nor Derek had been called to the office and there wasn't a police car in sight. But he felt like it was only a matter of time before the confrontation happened, and Stiles was seriously tired of waiting. If they were going to turn his life upside down, Stiles wished they would get it done and over with. He had actually been tempted to call his father and tell him to hurry up, because the suspense of waiting was literally going to put him in the hospital.

Stiles had ran into Scott several times on break and in between classes, and each time, the worry written in the lines across his forehead were deeper and more pronounced. Scott wanted Stiles to just go home and get some sleep—to separate himself from everything for a while. Stiles knew that it was probably the right thing to do, but Scott didn't understand that it would be worse for Stiles to just leave. He'd just sit at home and wonder what was happening back at school. As much as it didn't feel right, being in school and knowing it was coming was a lot better than sitting and waiting to hear the aftermath, wondering what was going on.

Stiles walked into Derek's classroom and immediately locked on to Derek's form, sitting at his desk, face resting in his hands. He glanced up, meeting Stiles' gaze, and it took everything in him to not go over there and comfort his boyfriend. Derek looked about as good as Stiles guessed he looked, but probably felt worse since it was his job on the line, wondering if each class would be his last.

Stiles gave Derek a small, private smile—trying to convey that he was here for Derek, although he physically couldn't be. Derek returned it, lips curling a little before turning and looking back down at the lesson book in front of him.

Stiles took his seat across from Lydia, and while looking over at the strawberry-blonde, commented on how awful Derek looked.

"No worse than you right now," Lydia replied quickly, her voice hushed. "But you've got bigger problems than whatever is going on between you two," she continued quickly. Stiles opened his mouth to argue, because she didn't know everything that had transpired over the weekend, and whatever she was going to say definitely wasn't going to trump his soon-to-be shit show.

"I was over at Allison's last night for supper," Lydia said before Stiles had a chance to respond. "Kate came barreling through the door screaming profanities, yelling about how they were still together. She barged into the dining room and sort-of realized that she wasn't alone, I guess, but when she looked at me—she literally snapped."

"Jesus, Lydia! Are you okay? What did she do?" Lydia held her hand up to silence Stiles.

"I'm fine, she didn't really hurt me, but she is sure as Hell going to be after you two—especially you, and even worse than before. She ran across the room and grabbed onto my blouse, got right in my face and told me that," Lydia used finger quotes, "'my little friend was going to get what was coming to him'. The whole house exploded then, and Allison's father actually had to drag her out of the dining room."

Stiles gaped at Lydia slightly, almost in disbelief for a moment, but the worried look across her face told him that she was telling the truth—and that it was something very serious.

"She's crazy, Stiles, and I don't mean the fun kind—she was deranged last night. This is starting to go above our heads; we're going to need to do something about her, and permanently, before she does something stupid and hurts you or Derek."

Stiles took a minute to process what Lydia had said, knowing Kate had already tried to do that over the weekend by tricking Stiles and Derek in the park. He guessed that she knew now that her plan hadn't worked. It certainly didn't surprise Stiles that she was going to step her game up and come after him, directly.

Since the start of this whole thing, it had always been about Derek—even when she had approached Stiles, it was always just a move in her plan for Derek, to hurt him and test him. Now, she was coming after him and Stiles realized that this was no longer a game for Kate, this was real. She wasn't just trying to get some satisfaction by tormenting Derek—she actually, desperately wanted him back. And now, she was willing to go through Stiles in order to do that. He took a deep, controlled breath when the feeling of dread started to wash over him. The pair had hoped that Kate would believe she had broken them up—at least until things with Stiles' father had blown over. They were wrong.

"That's not even everything, Lydia. It just adds to the mess that we're in right now." Stiles quietly explained how his father walked in on them over the weekend—that he got kicked out and now they were just waiting for his father to report Derek. And now, on top of everything, they had to deal with Kate once again.

Lydia contemplated everything Stiles had said and let out a loud sigh, "you're screwed." Stiles could only nod in agreement as he looked back up to Derek who was preparing to start the class.

"I don't know if I should tell him about Kate… Not with everything else that's going on." Stiles could tell that Derek was reaching a breaking point with the stress he was under. He knew that Derek was putting on a brave face for Stiles and for himself—trying to make them feel like everything was okay when they both knew it wasn't. Stiles just didn't have the heart to put any more chinks in the armor Derek had put up. It was his job to protect Derek too—it was just hard deciding how to go about doing that.

"I know you don't want to hurt him, but he deserves to know. This isn't the time for one of you to try and be a hero—you need to stay strong, together. Plus, it's only a matter of time before she tries something again—and if he finds out you were keeping something from him and one of you guys got hurt? He wouldn't forgive you for that. I wouldn't, at least."

Stiles sighed—he knew she was right, Derek deserved to know. Kate was such a wild card that hiding anything from Derek about her would give her the upper hand. They couldn't afford to give that away.

"Mr. Stilinski and Mrs. Martin—if you two are finished whispering back there—I would like to start my class." Derek spoke up and Stiles whipped around in his seat, facing forward and giving Derek an apologetic look.

Stiles spent most of the class lost in his thoughts, trying to find a solution—any solution—for the mess they had gotten themselves into. His father reporting them was inevitable; neither Stiles nor Derek could see a way of getting out of it. Kate was almost as worrisome as his father—someone who knew too much and could do a lot of damage, but the difference was that Kate was going to play dirty and do absolutely anything she could to hurt Stiles or Derek. It was like she was a cockroach that managed to stay alive, even with its head taken off. Stiles had no idea how to get rid of her, either.

The bell rang for lunch, so Stiles waited for everyone to file out—Lydia telling him that she would meet him in the cafeteria, with everyone. He nodded before grabbing his things and heading up to Derek's desk.

"How are you holding up?" Stiles asked when everyone disappeared from the classroom.

"I could be better… Sick of waiting for it to happen—I just want to get it over with." Derek sighed, and Stiles hummed in agreement.

"Me too, I have been on the verge of a panic attack all day. I just want to move on and figure out what to do next," Stiles muttered and Derek sat up straight, concern displayed across his face as he reached forward to touch Stiles.

"We shouldn't do that here," Stiles took a step back, feeling a sharp pain in his chest when Derek froze and looked down at the desk, nodding and slowly moving his hand back towards himself.

"I know what you're going to say, but I'm fine—I've got Scott worrying about me every time I see him. I'm well looked after! If things start to get worse, I'll be sure to go to the nurse," Stiles continued and watched as Derek nodded solemnly. He had to shove his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching over to the other man.

"Um, there's something else too, about Kate." Stiles started to say, but Derek sighed harshly, making Stiles flinch. "Uh, it can wait," Stiles backpedaled. "Let's just get through today and we can deal with that later," Stiles advised—to his surprise, Derek nodded in agreement.

"Sounds good to me. I don't think I could handle any more Kate drama on top of this—not with two classes left. Tell me when we're home, if we ever get through this. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. We've gotten this far—what else can she really do to us?"

Stiles only nodded. He really didn't know what else she could do to them, but he got the feeling that she was unstable enough to get extremely creative.

"You should go, I've got to get to a meeting in a few minutes in the teacher's lounge." Stiles nodded adjusted the strap on his backpack.

"I love you," Stiles spoke softly, just needing to get it out. He felt himself aching to touch Derek, to let him know that they were going to be okay—that they were going to make it through this, his father and Kate.

"Love you, too." Derek replied, a small smile spreading onto his face, a hint of light flickering back into his eyes, creating a warm fluttering in Stiles' stomach.

"Good, 'cause that's all that matters right now. We got this!" Stiles smiled, trying to convince himself of his own words just as hard as he was trying to convince Derek. The other man only smiled and nodded before beginning to gather his belongings. Stiles took that as his cue to leave, waving goodbye and heading to the door.

He looked back as he reached the door, taking in the other man's figure while he started shoving papers into his briefcase. They were going to pull through this. Stiles didn't know what kind of damage was going to be done, but he believed they were going to get through it. It was the one thing they were both sure about, regardless of what his father, Kate, or anyone did. Stiles trusted in their relationship to pull through whatever trials they were about to face.

It had to.

The rest of the day dragged on torturously slow, the kind of slow where you're in class and you feel like twenty minutes have passed, but you look at the clock and it's only been five since the last time you checked.

Lunch had been uneventful, nice, considering that everyone was sitting together again, Erica included. Everyone accepted her like she had been there the entire time. Scott had been more worried than ever, but Allison managed to get him to ease off, with Lydia appearing to be unfazed. Stiles went through the motions throughout lunch and for the rest of the day. He spent his time looking out into the parking lot and at the clock, so when the final bell rang, he figured he'd be relieved that it was over. Honestly, he somehow felt even worse. Today had been bad enough, and then he realized they would have to do the same thing all over again tomorrow.

Stiles headed to towards his jeep at the end of the day, opening his phone to text Derek and let him know that he was going to meet him back at his place, when a call from his father came through. Stiles stared at the phone for a few brief moments, wondering if he should actually answer. He sighed and decided to click the 'talk' button—not wanting to speak to his father, but if the man was calling about him and Derek, he needed to know.

"Dad," Stiles stated flatly, trying to keep emotion out of his voice.

"Stiles… I'm surprised you picked up." His father's voice came through the other line.

"Well, I figured it was going to be about Derek and me—I thought I would try and learn something from you, so I can tell my boyfriend when his career will come crashing down around him," Stiles replied, coolly. The Sheriff muttered Stiles' name under his breath.

"I need you to come to the station. We need to talk, you and me—about us. Not about Derek."

"And if I'm not ready to talk to you yet?" Stiles challenged.

"Then I'll wait 'til you're ready. You know where I'll be." The Sheriff replied simply, muttering a goodbye before hanging up. Stiles sighed heavily, leaning against his baby.

He was hurt. He was still hurting after what his father had said and done, and he didn't want to talk to him. He didn't want to fix things—he wanted to be angry because he deserved to be angry.

Stiles thought of Scott, then. He thought he deserved to be angry with Scott, too. He didn't bother to talk to his friend, and where did that get him? Nowhere. It had actually made things worse, because even though the situation was different between him and his father—the amount of time that Stiles let things go had only made things worse.

Stiles cursed under his breath and looked at his phone clutched in his hand. He fired off a text to Derek telling him that his father called and wanted to talk—that he was going to head down to the station to see what the man had to say. Stiles got into the jeep and turned it on. He didn't have to forgive his father, just like he didn't have to forgive Scott.

…He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. He was angry, fuck, he was a lot of things, but he knew that in order to move forward he was going to have to hear his father out. It wasn't going to magically fix everything—he and Scott were still trying to put pieces back together, but it was a step. His father had reached out and instead of batting his hand away like he wanted to, he was going to listen to what his father needed to say. There were no guarantees, but at least it was a step forward.

Walking into the Sheriff's station seemed almost foreign, which was an odd feeling for Stiles, because it had always felt like a second home—but it was really his Father's home. The deputy at the desk waved politely at Stiles and told him that his father was in his office and to walk right in. Stiles murmured a thank you and headed off.

When Stiles entered the office, his father was on the phone and he held one finger up to signify that he was going to be another minute. Stiles took a seat in front of the desk, slouched down and sighed. He really didn't want to do this; he wanted to get up, run out of the office and deal with things another day.

"Glad to see you came, Stiles," his father spoke as his hung up the phone.

"Glad to see you sober." Stiles returned, not thinking about the words that slipped out of his mouth. He watched as his father tensed for a moment, lips pursed into a thin line across his face. "So what did you want to talk about?" he asked quickly, giving his father no time to reply.

"I wanted to talk about what happened on Friday." His father said scratching his head—a telltale sign that he was trying to figure out just what he wanted to say, and having trouble coming up with the right words. Stiles thought it was pretty simple: apologize for being an ass.

"I said a few things Friday that I regret," The man finally spoke; there had been a lot of things said on Friday. Stiles decided to remain silent and wait for the other man to continue.

"I was justified in my reaction, considering what I walked in on… But I could have handled a few things a Hell of a lot better." The Sheriff spoke slowly, trying to pick the right words because he knew Stiles—he knew Stiles was going to rip whatever he had said apart.

"You think?" Stiles snorted. He could feel everything starting to bubble under the surface, make his skin crawl, ready to explode and start spilling out.

"Please, Stiles! I'm trying to apologize here—to own up to it and be a man." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Which parts are you trying to own up to, Dad? Huh? All of it or just those 'few things?'" Stiles spat his father's words right back at him. It was a lot more than just a few things that Stiles' father needed to own up to.

"Are you trying to apologize for treating me like a child, or for telling me that I'm so naïve that I wouldn't know if I wasn't being taken advantage of? Or what about when you made it about yourself, saying that people wouldn't trust you to keep the town safe, if you couldn't keep ME safe?" The Sheriff opened his mouth to respond but Stiles never let the words escape his lips.

"How about when you ignored every word that came out of my mouth when I tried to explain things? When I pleaded with you to understand—to make you understand that this wasn't just some 'thing,' that it was a real relationship and that what Derek made me feel was real? All you could do was order me around, and forbid me to see him!" Stiles took a deep breath; his skin was burning hot, heart pounding in his ears—eyes starting to burn.

"What about when you told me Mom would be disappointed in me?" Stiles' voice broke. "You don't think I didn't know what you'd think? What other people would think? That they wouldn't understand, or that they'd think it was wrong? But telling me she would be disappointed—that she'd think it was wrong, you can't fix that! You can never make up for that!" Stiles stopped trying to hold back the tears and just let them come.

"Are you going to apologize for every moment of weakness that I have when I think in the back of my mind that she would be disappointed—that she'd think this thing between Derek and me was wrong, no matter how good and how right it felt? How can you apologize for that? She's not here to tell me any differently! She'll never tell me how proud she is of me, because I found someone like him!"

Stiles watched the Sheriff wipe the tears from his eyes and it took him a moment to realize that he was now standing in front of his father's desk. He wiped his face with his shirtsleeve and sat back down, hunched forward and face cradled in his hands.

"Son," the Sheriff spoke after a long pause, his voice thick. "I was wrong." Stiles heard his father get up from his chair, walking around the desk and pulling the adjacent chair closer.

"Stiles, please look at me." The Sheriff grabbed his son's hands from his face, keeping them in his and gripping them tightly, encouraging Stiles to look up. Stiles blinked at his father through his blurred vision. His father's face was wet with tears, his eyes red with a look of regret that almost made Stiles too uncomfortable to keep his gaze.

"You are right," the Sheriff paused. "You're not a child and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I treated you like one. When I saw you and Mr. Hale—I felt like you were being robbed of something, of your innocence, and that he stole it from you. I was so blinded by the need to protect you from what he had done, I just couldn't hear you, couldn't process what you were trying to tell me. That it was something you both had done—not just him."

"But please, please promise me that you'll never think your mother would be disappointed in you. If she would be disappointed with anyone, it would be me, because you're right—I've been so lost without her. So lost, that it took me a long time to realize that I didn't have to be alone through it all. I didn't have to protect you from anything, because there is no protection from something like that, like losing your Mother. I am ashamed that I couldn't be there for you in the ways that I should have been, both after her death and a few days ago. I was so focused on what I thought was right, but not right for you and what you needed. I didn't listen and I reacted badly. I was wrong—not you."

Stiles had never seen his father so raw with emotion before in his entire life. He felt himself become overwhelmed at the usually so guarded man baring everything to him, as he continued on,

"She would be so proud of you. You turned into everything we ever talked about you becoming: a strong, independent young man who loves with everything he has and isn't ashamed to show it, or let himself believe that it is a weakness. A man that fights for the things he believes in, the people he loves and who defends what he knows to be true and right; someone who is smart, loyal and braver than she could have ever imagined. Please don't ever let what I said in the heat of the moment make you think that she wouldn't be anything less than proud of you. I was trying to protect my little boy, my child so badly that night that I couldn't see the grown man in front of me, and I am truly and eternally sorry for that."

Despite what Stiles had said earlier, he felt a weight come off his chest, relief flooding throughout. He felt that maybe his mother wouldn't think he was wrong—that his and Derek's love wasn't wrong.

"Where does that leave us?" Stiles asked after a long moment. He looked up at his father, who looked as raw as Stiles felt in that very moment. He didn't know where that left them. He wasn't okay with his father, and he knew he wasn't going to be okay for a while—not until he could process things and figure out how he felt. He was still so angry and hurt and he just couldn't just turn that off, couldn't forget it—the situation with Scott was different. He had been angry but he'd had the time to work through it. There was also a difference between two friends slowly drifting, and your father kicking you out of your home.

"I don't know, son," his father admitted halfheartedly.

"You are welcome back home, it's yours and has always been yours. I should have never told you to leave. But if you need to stay at Derek's for the time being, I understand that as well." Stiles nodded. He wasn't planning on going back home with his father, not yet. Things needed to be better, needed to feel better. He didn't feel welcomed, anymore.

"What about Derek? Why haven't you reported him already?" Stiles finally asked. He needed to know, he just couldn't go through another day like today—and neither could Derek. His father sighed, finally getting up and returning to his desk.

"If I report him, what does that mean for us?" His father asked cautiously. Stiles honestly couldn't answer. He really didn't know what it meant for them, if they could get past it or not. Stiles had expected it to be done already, either way. It didn't change anything.

"It means you're doing your job as the Sheriff," Stiles stated simply.

"…But?"

"But, not your job as my father." Stiles caught his father's gaze and kept it. He understood that Derek wasn't the ideal partner, to his father—for his career and for his son, but he was ideal for Stiles and that should be enough.

"You realize what you're asking me to do, Stiles?"

Stiles knew. He knew that his father wasn't perfect but had a strong set of morals—and that Derek and his relationship was going against everything his father believed in.

"I'm not asking you to do anything. I expected you to have done it already," Stiles said, his voice, hardened.

"But you are asking, Stiles. You know you are."

"Dad, I realize that my relationship with Derek is difficult for you to understand and it's something, I realize, that you may never understand. It's not your job to get it. It's your job to support me and my choices, even though you may never agree with them." Stiles tried to explain—maybe he could reason with his father.

"This is different, Stiles."

"Is it really? If Derek wasn't a teacher, would that make the difference? What about if he was a year or two younger? 'Cause those things don't matter, Dad." Stiles leaned forward, his voice losing the forcefulness it had earlier and turning into something softer.

"He's a great man, Dad—he is a good person. You're punishing him for loving me. That's his crime: loving your son and sticking by him despite what he's about to lose." Stiles shook his head gently.

"Do whatever you feel is right. I can't ask you do anything more." Stiles sighed, looked at his father and gave him a weak smile, starting to stand and leave the office to head back to Derek's.

"Nobody else knows?" His father spoke up, and Stiles gave him a confused look.

"If I look the other way—if I pretend that I didn't walk in on you two… And no one else knows, you two can go on pretending, like you have been." Stiles couldn't believe what he was actually hearing.

"Are you saying that you're not going to report Derek?" Stiles asked, keeping his gaze until he saw him nod. Stiles still couldn't believe it.

"It has to stay a secret until after graduation. If I hear even a whisper about it, Stiles, I will not hesitate to make that call. And I don't want him around the house." Stiles' smile halted at his father's words.

"Don't give me that look, Stiles," his father responded. "I don't understand your relationship, so until I can work through it and accept you two—it just can't be in my face, is all." Stiles nodded. He didn't like it, but he understood. He knew better than to fight this, so he needed to take this victory as it was.

"I understand. I'll let Derek know what you're doing." Stiles nodded at his father, finally getting ready to leave. He didn't know what the etiquette in the situation would be—Stiles was happy with his father's decision but it still didn't change what happened. It helped that he was trying to make things better, but what's done was done, and he didn't know where, exactly, they stood with each other.

"Stiles, don't mistake this as me doing Derek a favor. It's had nothing to do with Derek—I'm doing this for you and for us." Stiles nodded, swaying awkwardly in front of his desk. He didn't know what to do from there, and he felt helpless. He wanted things to be better between him and his father—he wanted to show his father how thankful he was, but it just didn't feel right. Stiles couldn't tell if it was his pride, or his feelings, or the whole thing.

"Dad," he started to speak, but didn't know what to say after that. He couldn't put what he was feeling into the right words, if there were even words for it.

"Thank you, for what you're doing for me—and for Derek, even though he isn't the reason. I can understand it is hard for you, to do this and ignore this, so I just want to say thank you for that." The sheriff nodded and motioned for Stiles to continue, sensing that he had something else to say.

"It's going to take time, for me to—get past what I'm feeling, to accept everything and work through it. I forgive you, for what you've done and said—but I still need time. It doesn't fix everything, as much as I want it to." Stiles tried to explain and the Sheriff only nodded and smiled a sad smile.

"I understand, son. You know where your home is—and it's always going to be there when you are ready to come back to it." Stiles nodded, giving his father a small smile before turning around to leave.

Stiles froze, something catching his eye on his father's bulletin board. He felt a cold dread come crashing down over him.

"Stiles?" His father questioned, an intonation of concern in his voice. Stiles pointed to the police sketch tacked above several memos.

"I know who this is," he said almost breathlessly. Stiles reached forward with shaky hands, pulling down the sketch of Kate and turning around to face his father.

"We need to get Derek here, now," Stiles managed to find his voice, hands tightly clutching the 'Wanted Poster' in his hands—Kate's dead eyes staring up at him.

"Kate Argent

Wanted for murder."