Author's Notes: This is my first time writing fanfiction, so if you have any criticisms that can help me better my writing, then please leave a review telling me so, or if you would like to suggest a plot point for the story, I'll take it into advisement. (Will give you credit, if you like.) - I don't own Teen Wolf, but I sure wish I could own Stiles. ;)

Stiles/Derek/Lydia/Erica *Stiles is getting some lovin' in this story* (Romance/Humor/Angst)

Synopsis: When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him. After Season 2 Finale.

Warning: Language & eventual sexy fun times. Mature.

Multi-POV

Scott POV:

"Dude, you been hanging around a skunk lately?" Scott had noticed that the past two weeks Stiles had been reeking more than usual for a teenager. He didn't want to think about it, but couldn't help remembering how the weel before when he was at work, he had realized that Stiles was starting to smell like the dog he'd been helping treat at the clinic who was dying of cancer. No, that could never be. Scott and Stiles had been joined at the hip since forever. Stiles with his inappropriate, sardonic humor was invincible, as far as Scott was concerned. You keep telling yourself that, he thought.

He caught another whiff when the breeze shifted. Deflect, his denial all-consuming. Make a joke, he thought.

"You're never going to get a date if you don't chase that smell away."

"Haha. I don't smell. Maybe it's you. Blaming me won't help you when Allison's around." Stiles smirked.

"Or you when Lydia's around." God, I'm such an ass. Scott knew if he didn't face the reality that something might be seriously wrong with his best friend, that he'd go out of his mind worrying or worse Stiles not getting the help he might need. How he would go about aiding Stiles, he didn't know. Many of his friends and fellow wolves didn't know he could smell decay, death, and he hadn't alluded so.

"Why did you just shiver? Is the big bad wolf cold?"

Ignoring Stiles, Scott thought maybe he should ask Allison what he ought to do. Then again, possibly Derek would be the better choice, after all he was the Alpha now. Do all werewolves possess the ability to smell if something's off? Scott decided to quit thinking so hard, get his shit together, and man up to either help his friend, if he is sick or squelch this paranoia once and for all.

Stiles POV:

This was getting ridiculous. Here they are finally getting some time to hangout just the two of them, no Allison, and Scott has barely said two words to him, unless you count telling him he smells. Stiles had been looking forward to "guy time" all week, but Scott seems to be in thought about who knows what. Probably Allison related. He hadn't even had time to tell Scott about all the different ways he'd fixated on Lydia this past week.

Stiles noticed his head started throbbing again; this would be, what, 11th time this week? He'd become accustomed to carrying a bottle of aspirin in his backpack. He guessed, with Scott distracted and his head killing him, he should call it quits on "guy time"; maybe look into finding the number for a doctor. Since his mom had died eight years ago from cancer, Stiles' household hadn't really been into medical anything. It was a much avoided topic between him and his father, but the headaches were starting to be too much.

"Hey Scott, you seem to have things on your mind, and I'm not feeling all "super-duper"(yes, he actually used finger quotes), so I think I'm going to head on out."

"What! What's wrong?" Scott asked in a shrill voice, which severely hurt Stiles' growing headache, and made him wince.

"Tone down the volume, dude. What's wrong with you? You've barely spoken to me and now you're screeching at me."

Scott ignoring him yet again said, "Yeah, yeah, what's wrong with you?" With werewolf fast reflexes, Scott grabbed Stiles' head and looked deeply into his eyes as if he was searching for something.

"You are seriously freaking me out. Oh, and quit using your super powers; it's not fair for us normal people when we can't escape interrogation. Anyway, I'm fine, or will be fine. It's just a mild headache." Could Scott tell something was wrong with him? Something he couldn't tell himself.

"Whhyyyy, does your wolfy-senses detect something amiss?" Stiles said sarcastically, yet truthfully.

"Uh, gotta go."

"No you don't. Scott, what the hell is going on?"

"You, um...you..." Stiles saw Scott become a blur by taking a step back, do a 180, and shooting off in the opposite direction all at wolf speed. This most definitely did not instill Stiles with "good feelings". Sighing, he opened up his backpack, popped four aspirin and sighed again. With the knowledge of Scott acting more weird than normal, Stiles was now filled with the urgency to go home and call a doctor. Maybe the doctor could also give him something for his werewolf induced stress; after all, that's most likely what's giving me headaches.

Allison POV:

"What a strange text."

"Oooo, who's it from, and what's it say?" Lydia enthusiastically asked as she was painting her nails with a color called, "Poppy Love". Sometimes Lydia was just a bit too on the girly side for Allison, but she loved her anyway.

"It's Scott, and I'm not sure I understand what it says."

"Hand it over. I'll decipher it." The inner workings of Scott, we're probably not in need of a cryptologist was quietly mumbled by Lydia as Allison gave over her cell.

While to the outside viewer, Lydia may look like one of those shallow, insipid, I've got nothing going on up under this beautifully coiffed hair kind of girls, but to those who got to know the authentic Lydia, you would know better. She'll almost certainly be someone of great import later in life, if only she would realize that her brain should come before everything else she values most about herself. That was one reason Allison really liked Stiles. He always saw Lydia the way she actually is; not just the shell. Although, he notices that, as well; quite often, in fact. Allison had kept trying to figure a way to get the two together, but hadn't entirely figured out how to get Lydia to regard Stiles in a non loser-like manner. With him continually making an ass out of himself, it had been a difficult task to go about.

"Well, either Scott is on crack or he says he's going to crack. Does he mean 'crack under pressure'? Does Scott even get pressured? Doesn't seem the type." Oh, if Lydia only knew about the daily pressure Scott had to deal with being a werewolf, and having her family hunt werewolves, and dealing with a infinitely irritable Derek. Yes, Scott was sufficiently stressed. Allison wondered which it was now.

"Here, let me text him back to meet me in 30. He most likely needs me for something."

"Oh, I bet he needs you for something." Lydia grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Allison laughed, "Not this time...at least, I don't think so."

Scott POV:

As soon as Allison had texted back, Scott felt marginally better. Going to Derek to get information was probably the logical thing he should be doing, but he didn't feel very logical right now. No, emotional was what he was, and the best person to help him figure out how to deal with himself and the Stiles situation was Allison. When Stiles had asked him if he could sense something wrong with him, Scott had freaked. He couldn't tell Stiles anything until he had some semblance of answers himself. And to find out his answers, he would have to deal with Derek. Everyone thought of Derek as broody and lethal, as did Scott, but Scott was also aware of Derek's fondness for Stiles. It was almost imperceptible to see, but Derek was minutely less moody and violent when Stiles was around. At first, Scott had assumed that it was a kind of brotherly affection (if you could call a less aggressive Derek, shoving Stiles into walls, affectionate), but over time he had guessed maybe it was something more.

At present, he hoped this was the case, because perhaps Derek would be more forthcoming than usual.

(30 Minutes Later)

After Allison had arrived, Scott told her everything, all of the paranoia and fear that he'd been bottling up for the past week and the conversation with Stiles that had taken place earlier in the day. At first she just looked at him with an astonished expression, then she said something he really hadn't imagined her saying.

"Fuckin' hell." Yep, wasn't expecting that to spill out of her at his confession. Nor did he expect her to start crying.

"Why are you crying? I'm already freaking out and you're not helping." He said as soothingly as possible in his mental state.

"I've been getting attached to the idea that I could possibly get Stiles and Lydia together, but now you spring this on me. I...I never imagined...this...this is wrong. You have to be wrong, Scott."

"Maybe I am, but in order to find out I've got to go talk to Derek, and, yeah, not looking forward to that."

That seemed to sober her tears.

"Scott, get your ass over to Derek's now. I've grown to really care for Stiles, and I know if something were to happen to him you would be devastated, so suck it the hell up and go help our friend. If he is sick, we will find him the help he needs, medical or supernatural."

God, he loved this girl.

He'd gotten as pumped up for confronting Derek as he was going to. Making his way up the drive to Derek's ramshackle, half burned down house, he realized that though he was ready to face Derek, he hadn't come up with a way to coerce Derek into answering all his questions without spilling the beans on the Stile's situation. Scott figured it was all or nothing; he'd go say his peace and they'd be able to move forward to help Stiles.

Climbing the front porch steps, he heard heavy breathing coming from the house; Derek must be working out. What else did the guy do all day? Scott opened the front door without knocking.

"What the hell do you want?" Derek said nonchalantly, not interrupting his push ups.

"I've got some issues that I need to discuss with you."

"Oh, I know you've got issues, but can't you whine them out to Stiles? I'm busy."

"It's Stiles that my issues concern." Derek halted midway through his 32nd push up when Scott said this, then continued on to number 33.

"What's going on now?" He sighed.

"Can all werewolves smell if an animal or person is dying, because I sortofcan." Scott mumbled and sped his way through the last of the sentence. Derek immediately looked at Scott with glowing red eyes.

"Why? Can you smell it on Stiles?" Derek growled out.

Scott halted a minute before weakly saying, "Yes."

"For how long?" The Alpha was up on his feet and now nose to nose with Scott.

"Past week." Scott had to turn his head and look away. "I'm guessing that was a yes to my answer about smelling death." Scott felt a terrible weight starting to get increasingly heavier in his chest. Derek seemed to notice the sadness seeping off Scott by backing away slightly and lowering the glow of his eyes.

"We'll fix this; first, we both need to go visit Stiles. See or I need to rather smell out the damage."

"I was hoping it was just my paranoia." Scott said quietly. He then steeled himself, looked at Derek, and said, "Let's go."

Music listened to whilst writing this chapter:

"Slow" - Grouplove

"Hanging On - Active Child

"Skin" - Zola Jesus

"Won't You Stay" - Indivision & Livewire