No, Mr Hale. [Sterek] (Boyxboy)

-Chapter Thirty-One-

"I've got a problem." Letting the shopping bags drop to the kitchen floor, he reached down and pulled out a bunch of screwed up images which he had previously taken from the billboard at the supermarket. Laura and Cora were previously laughing but they knew their brother and all of his seriousness.

"What's up?" Laura asked, her protective pact instincts kicking up. The pair of sisters got up to see what Derek's face of fear was for. Cora bit her lip.

"Somebody has printed them all over the billboards." Laura snatched one of the photos from Derek's hands and grimaced at the photograph. His sisters gathered together and stared at the photo.

"I ship it so hard." Cora yelled but then was met by a slap on her wrist by her older sister.

"I can't leave the house." Derek announced. He had entered the panic frenzy and was not prepared to take any risks.

"Der-bear, calm down...we can fix this and sort it out. I mean if you escaped the Sheriff's wrath then surely-"

"My life is ruined. People are going to come after me, hell even you two!" Derek bit his lips and shuddered.

"Don't be stupid. We won't let that happen, Der."

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Meanwhile across town, Stiles lay in bed with his head spinning. He was still severely concussed but his thoughts were now just about logical. Cringing at the thought of him throwing himself over Mr Hale at prom, he thought it couldn't possibly get any worse than him outing himself at prom. Little did he know.

"Dad!" Stiles yelled. "I need some aspirin." He sighed heavily as he knew his dad probably wouldn't hear him. He got up feeling like he was on a boat and headed down the stairs, almost tripping multiple times.

After a rummage through the cupboards he discovered that there was no aspirin. He slammed his fist into the counter top.

"Dad! Where are you?" He grumbled in frustration, it was surely illegal to drive in such a concussed state but it didn't seem like his father was home.

Staggering down the street, he head to the nearest shop he could find, anywhere that sold aspirin. He came to a halt when he noticed strange papers slapped all over nearby trees and lampposts.

"What's this?" He walked over and leaned onto the nearest tree for balance. As dizzy as he'd ever felt, he stared at the image slapped upon the tree. For a moment, he almost didn't recognise himself and Derek, since he'd never seen them from another person's point of view but then he cringed really hard. "Oh, Christ."

He tore down the image and ran to tear the rest of them down. His heart thumped in his chest and he breathed heavily.

"Son?" The Sheriff stopped and stared at Stiles, frantically tearing the images down. He had barely even made it halfway down the street and there were still hundreds of images in the near and far distance.

"Dad!" Tears trickled their way down Stiles' face. He had fists full of scrunched images and he tossed them into the nearest bin along the boulevard. His dad welcoming him with open arms and he broke down. "I just outed myself. Derek-he's...he's going to get locked away for years and-"

"Hey, hey, listen. Derek knew what he was getting himself into, he should have never got involved with you in the first place. That being said, I will do my best to protect him from my station. I know how much it would break your heart, Stiles." The Sheriff slapped Stiles' back lightly and rubbed it, as a way of comforting his upset and concussed son.

"This is my fault, Dad."

"Don't you dare say that, son. You need to stick to your story, that you were concussed and you threw yourself onto Derek, do you understand? This is the only way you can protect him." The Sheriff seemed like he was confident that the story would work but in reality, he was deeply troubled by the loss that Derek's being thrown in jail would cause Stiles and partly his own reputation. He may have the Sheriff title removed from him if anyone knew that he allowed his own son to continue a relationship with his teacher.

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A short while after, Derek had began frantically pacing around the house.

"What do I do?" He asked his sisters, who sat patiently and mimicked each other with tapping left feet against the wooden floor. "I can confess and face years in prison or I am hunted down."

"A confession would be the most noble." Cora unhelpfully answered.

"No." Laura rolled her eyes at her sister, who always seemed to make everything sarcastic or funny at the completely wrong time. "You told us he fell and was concussed, right?" Derek hummed and nodded. "Well there's your answer. You did absolutely nothing wrong."

"What if they start digging further into it?" His forehead creased with worry. "They're going to find Stiles' finger prints all over my desk and-" Derek's stomach dropped. "My prints in his bedroom. Oh god."

"Derek, you're gross." Cora added.

"They won't Der, stop stressing over nothing." Laura stood up to stop her brother and his pacing. She placed a hand on his arm and he felt some kind of relief. "You stick to your story and we clean up this mess, okay?"

Derek was not convinced and he was definitely concerned. He headed up to his bedroom, through the hallways and past his sisters' rooms and the bathroom. His body sunk to the floor, where he pulled out a gym bag from under his bed using his long muscular arms and unzipped it. He sat up and sighed before standing suddenly. He knew what to do next, he went to his wardrobe and chest of drawers, taking arms and fists full of clothes: socks, boxers, t-shirts, jeans, joggers, even pyjamas. Finally, he dumped them into the gym bag.

Then he begun planning his escape.

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I'm a terrible author I know. It's been like 5 months. I'm sorry:)