Stiles was sitting on his bed, head in his hands. The same position he had been in since the two girls left. He shouldn't have said that. He shouldn't have placed that on them. They didn't need to know just how screwed up he really was. He should have kept his mouth shut.

A soft whine came toward him, muffled by the closed window. Stiles moved instantly, lifting his head and jumping to his feet, before he realized he didn't have to open it.

"Stiles," Derek's voice. Derek. Derek talking with a soft voice. A voice that sounded almost as broken as Stiles felt. So not Derek then.

"What?" Stiles asked hesitantly. There were so many possibilities here. It could be Derek. It could be an evil twin. A trick. Hell, as far as Stiles knew, this could be a dream.

"Let me in," Derek continued, his eyes meeting Stiles. Stiles froze. Derek always wore a mask. But the pain in his eyes…

"Are you hurt?" Stiles asked quickly, his mind flashing to Derek bleeding from multiple wounds. He moved toward the window, unlatching the lock.

Derek was in his room and wrapped around him before Stiles could even process he had moved. "What the-"

Stiles froze as Derek let out a high pitched whining noise and his arms tightened. Derek's arms were wrapped around his waist, his face buried in the hollow between Stiles neck and shoulder. He was breathing deeply, still letting out the whining sound.

Stiles mind was racing. What the hell was going on? "Derek?" Stiles asked hesitantly, moving his right hand up to rest on Derek's back. He swallowed hard as his hand met pure muscle. "He big guy. Want to tell me what's going on and why you've suddenly attached yourself to me?"

Stiles felt Derek shudder against him before taking another deep breath. "Stiles," Derek whined, shaking his head against Stiles shoulder. Stiles free hand moved on its own accord, coming up to softly run through Derek's hair.

"Derek? You're freaking me out a bit." Stiles grimaced at the panic he heard in his own voice. How did he end up being the one comforting someone? How did he end up comforting Derek?

"I didn't do it. I told them not to. Don't be mad. Don't, don't, don't…" Derek continued to whine.

Stiles continued to run his hand through Derek's hair, but a fell over his face. "You're going to have to be a bit more specific."

"No, no, no, no…"

"Just hold him for a moment, Stiles," a silky voice broke in to Derek's rambling. "He'll be fine in a minute."

Stiles turned his head toward the window quickly, making Derek let out a loud whine. Peter winced, but kept a smirk on his face as he looked at his nephew. "You're going to be furious with yourself when you pull it together." He informed him.

"What the hell is going on?" Stiles demanded, though his kept his tone light and his arms around the alpha werewolf.

Peter chuckled lightly, "Unfortunately, that's up to my nephew to tell you."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Really?"

Peter shrugged, his eyes moving back to the alpha. "Give it a few seconds."

It didn't take a few seconds. Derek stopped muttering and stiffened. Then he broke out of Stiles arms and moved backwards, his mask firmly in place. "Welcome back," Peter chided.

Derek flashed his eyes at his uncle, letting out a soft growl as he moved toward the window. Stiles moved in front of it instantly, his own eyes narrowed on the other man as he tried to ignore the feeling of loss that flooded his body as soon as Derek let go of him. "Oh, I don't think so. What the hell was that?"

"Stiles, move," Derek snapped, ignoring the chuckles coming from his uncle.

"No. Not until you tell me what that was," Stiles replied, folding his arms over his chest. This was absolutely ridiculous.

Derek closed his eyes as if praying for strength, and when he opened them, Stiles saw resignation. "This should be interesting," Peter commented lightly.

"Nuh uh. You, out." Stiles demanded, moving away from the window and glaring at the laughing zombiewolf.

Peter didn't bother arguing, instead moving toward the window with a smirk across his face. "This should be fun."

He disappeared out the window. Derek didn't look at Stiles, instead he started walking in a small circle, letting out a small growl every few seconds. "Derek? Seriously, you need to talk. Now."

Derek stopped. "Okay, maybe you should – should sit down."
Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Derek pointed to the bed and Stiles sat with a huff. "Okay. Go."

He didn't go. Stiles watched as Derek once again started pacing. "Derek, seriously-"

"You're my mate."

Stiles stared. Those words could not have possibly – he couldn't have just said – "What?"