Waking up was something Stiles looked forward to. If it meant waking up to the one he loved most. Laying on his side, he watched Derek's sleeping form. Taking note of how peaceful he looked and the relaxed pose he took on. Today marked the one year anniversary of being married, and Stiles was going to make it perfect.

Slowly and carefully slipping out of bed, Stiles padded to the door, his face scrunching up in distaste for the door as it squeaked open. Slipping through the door, he quickly walked down the stairs two at a time and towards the kitchen. The kitchen had all the high end appliances to Stiles liking, in stainless steel, which finally ruled the modeled house as done. Getting out the necessary ingredients, Stiles began to work on the pancakes while the coffee brewed and the oven was heating.

It took an hour of burnt pancakes, and undercooked bacon for Stiles to put together the perfect meal. As he set the coffee on the tray, he took a moment to take pride in his masterpiece. A yelp escaped his lips as arms wrapped around his waist and lips pressed against the nape of his neck. "Smells good..." Derek slurred drowsily. Stiles turned around in Derek's arms to plant a soft kiss to the werewolves lips.

"It's for you." Stiles said happily. Derek gave a crooked smile that always managed to make Stiles' knees go weak. Placing his head on Stiles shoulder, Derek whispered a soft 'I love you' into the crook of the boys neck.

"I love you too." Stiles cooed, rubbing Derek's back soothingly, before turning his attention back to the tray.

Stiles awoke in a cold sweat, goose bumps rising on his skin. Furiously rubbing away the tears he already knew were there, trying to hold back the thick sobs in his throat. Bringing his knees up to his chest, Stiles tried to keep himself from having another panic attack, moonlight casting over his from.

"It's just a dream..." Stiles muttered to himself lamely. He felt hot tears rise behind his eyes. He knew what he tried to tell himself was a lie. It was more than just a dream, it was a memory. The last good and sweet and innocent one Stiles had of him.

Stiles needed to be strong, not for just the pack, but for Derek as well. Climbing slowly out of bed, the bed he and Derek shared for two years, and began to journey down the stairs, making sure to not wake up the pack, stepping out side. Stiles didn't realize he wasn't wearing any shoes until rocks sliced into the bottom of his feet nor the fact that he had short sleeve on as the frigid air breezed past him. But Stiles didn't care, as he made his way to his destination.

Stiles persisted that it be put a mile away from the Hale house, out of werewolf hearing rang. Though Scott tried desperately to get Stiles to change his mind, Stiles held his ground.

He felt his heart tighten as it came into view, after what seemed like hours of walking. Falling to his knees in front of it, Stiles let his head rest against the cool surface, the moonlight illuminating them both as if the moon was there for that one reason. Stiles began to sob, choking on them, his lungs begging for air as he sobbed harder. Placing a hand on the hard material, Stiles broke into a soft smile through his tears.

"God I miss you.." Stiles whispered, fingers tracing over the engraving of Derek's name on the gray, marble stone.