Stiles didn’t realize how much he counted on and needed Derek’s protection until the day it was gone. And he had no one but himself to blame for the cold, empty dread he was currently experiencing. Because he was alone and pretty sure he was about to die. Alone. It fucking sucked. Derek was growling and yelling at Stiles about being reckless. Stiles wasn’t really listening since he’d heard it all before....

Chapter One Waking to a nightmare Xander was never able to quite remember what happened. He remembered the demons (because there were always demons when badness happened). Remembers rushing in to save the human sacrifice du jour. Can still hear the chanting demons and almost visualize the scene before the flash of light and everything going dark. The next thing he remembers is waking up and seeing uber-concerned Willow-face. This immediately worried him....

It’s after they’ve graduated and Stiles is about to leave for college when he comes to Derek’s loft. He knocks. Something he’s been doing and Derek can’t quite remember when it started. It still strikes him as odd, since Stiles always used to barge in. Derek opens the door. Stiles’ heart is elevated and he smells nervous. It makes Derek worried. “So, um, I’m heading off to college and I wanted to tell you something before I go… Okay, I’m just going to blurt it out....

It started with a very bloody and very dead rabbit on his front step. It said something about Stiles’ life choices that the sight of something that might’ve once made him throw up, just set off a low current of dread in his stomach. Hard to be super grossed out by a dead rabbit when you’ve been on the verge of cutting someone’s arm off. Or seen that same person gutted on his feral uncle’s claws....

The only time Stiles feels safe these days is when he’s with Derek. So, he’s been spending as much time with Derek as he can. He feels safest, no question about it, when he’s in Derek’s arms. He can’t tell if his favourite is when Derek spoons him. Holding him close with inhuman strength; a warm, solid presence at his back. Or when Derek lies on top of him; a warm, heavy, solid blanket....

Stiles once told Derek that sarcasm was his best defense. He hadn’t been lying. Problem was, that sarcasm wasn’t a really good defense against people (hunters) willing to torture ‘human traitors’, aka Gerard Argent. All his life, Stiles had been told to ‘shut up’. To be quiet. That he was noisy and annoying. All his life. It was why Scott was his only friend. Even Scott, though, got fed up once in a while....

Stiles is a virgin. Everyone knows this. Everyone knows because he whines about it at any given opportunity. He thinks it’s especially unfair given that he has a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend. So far, though, Derek refuses to sleep with him. Stiles would think it was about his age, except they kill people/creatures on a semi-regular basis. Fucking his hot twenty-two-year-old boyfriend when he’s seventeen just doesn’t seem all that bad in comparison....

All Derek wants is this one small thing. (Wants it, but knows he can never have it.) Of course, the thing about Stiles… (There are so many ’things’ about Stiles.) The thing about Stiles is that he takes up so much space. 147lbs. Pale skin. Fragile bones. (Flailing arms. Loud voice always talking. His scent…) And Derek has so many empty spaces in his life. (Mother. Father. Brother. Sister.) He was hollowed out and cracked open by the fire....

Stiles stares at the letter. It’s the result of his application to be a summer intern at the FBI. His dad has always been his hero. He’d set his sights on the FBI because, well, why not? He could be a hero. Just like his dad. Especially after surviving high school. He feels crushed. Like the last bit of optimism he had about the future just snuffed out. Long nights finishing his homework....

When Stiles came awake he was pissed. He almost wished he had a moment of disorientation instead of being perfectly aware of where he was and what had happened. Some asshole vampire had turned him. He was not going to let her get away with it. He looked around and several pieces of wood would work quite nicely as an emergency stake. Christ, but he was thirsty. Because he needed to drink blood....