Stiles felt the rain coming down on him, and he looked up into the sky. It felt like years ago that he had been in this position. Hell, it was just about six months, but it felt longer. He felt like he was free for the first time. He looked back at where his father was standing outside the courtroom doors. He was dressed in civilian clothes because he was no longer Sheriff. He had been brought up for impeachment, so he had just left. If the justice system was willing to declare him unworthy because his son was being suspected of a murder that he had been found to have not committed at all but also had been framed for by someone who had been found to have killed many deputies, well, he didn't want the job.

Hell, they had been living in a hotel for the last two months of the trial since they had sold the house and planned to move elsewhere. Stiles had completed his graduation requirements and made sure that he could just leave as soon as he was cleared of killing Donovan Donati.

Stiles looked to the side at the man who had helped them. He hadn't done much but a few spells to make sure that Donovan's death on camera didn't look supernatural and that someone could have the whole breaking Donovan out had been done by someone else. It was two birds with the same stone as Gerard Argent was going to go to jail for the rest of his newly cured life.

"You never did tell me who you are," Stiles said.

"I owe a debt to someone who cashed in on it, but after he had revealed what we were going to do, well, I gave him this for free, Mieczyslaw. I'll be escorting you and your father to your new home." Adam smiled at Stiles, and he bowed his head a little.

"Stiles," a voice called out.

Stiles turned to look at Malia, who was standing with an umbrella in her hand even if she wasn't using it. She was just as drenched as him.

"Take me with you," Malia asked.

"Why?"

"Because I learned the truth about a lot of things. My dad wants me out of here and safe. He's going to follow when he figures out where I'm landing, and I'm pretty sure you are going where the Hales all settled."

"We are. New York City," Stiles said. He looked at his father, who just shrugged.

"You are taking a private jet," Adam said. He took out his phone and started to tap on it.

His name was the only thing Stiles knew about him, other than he knew Polish very well for someone who obviously grew up in the States and in the south with English and Spanish as their first language.

"You are more than welcome, Miss Tate," Adam said.

"Hale," Malia said.

Adam looked up at her in shock. He looked at his phone again. "No, I was told that your name is Malia Tate."

"I was adopted without my biological father knowing about it. My dad helped me change my name. I've taken Tate as my middle name. The bias I was taught about Peter doesn't hold up to the light given what I've learned about Scott and what he's willing to do to someone he has been friends with as long as he has Stiles and called Stiles his brother. I can't be around him, and I would like to get to know my father."

"Peter has a child?" Adam asked.

That told Stiles, who had sent Adam to him, but he wasn't sure what made Adam help Stiles without taking the debt and clearing what Adam owed him.

"Yes, he does."

"I can see it. So, let's go. The plane waits for no one. Miss Hale, do you need help packing?"

"No, I have everything I need."

"And Malia, no cuddling in bed," Noah said.

Stiles looked at his father and laughed at him. It was the first time he had laughed in a long while. He wasn't happy, and he wasn't sure he would ever be.

---

It was raining again, the third time in four days, and Stiles found that New York City seemed all the better for it. The people were still there, and they were busy, but the sounds of them were muted. Stiles could almost believe he was alone. He knew he wasn't, especially when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Can't sleep?" Derek asked.

"Nightmare," Stiles said, but he knew that Derek knew it. The rapid heart rate had to be what woke Derek up from across the hall.

"Your aunt is going to kill me if you come to breakfast with tired eyes again."

"She gets no say in all of this," Stiles said.

Derek hummed, not wanting to start another fight. Stiles shivered a little, and he sighed before turning to bury himself in Derek's chest. They were both wet, but Derek was at least warm.

"She's trying," Derek said.

"I know. She thought Beacon Hills was safe but never checked that, even after hearing weird rumors. I still think about what could have been stopped if she had given a shit about Dad and me after Mom died. If the Nogitsune might not have happened. I never would have had to have done that ice bath. Deaton wouldn't have fucked up Scott, Allison, and I when he should have had access to the Nemeton anyway."

"Hey, don't spiral," Derek said.

"It's hard. It's so hard. I just can't stop thinking about it when I have nightmares."

"Then come to bed," Derek said.

Stiles shook his head. He didn't want to be alone with Derek in bed. He wasn't ready for anything more than the dates they were having that ended in a little bit of kissing.

"Malia's waiting for us," Derek said.

"Okay," Stiles said. He figured there had been a conversation that he couldn't hear. Everyone knew of his issues as he worked himself through accepting his life and everything that had happened in it. He was in three different kinds of therapy; well, Peter called the last therapy, but it was really just learning to defend himself, but he was finding peace of mind there.

The Hale loft had become home in a way that the place he shared with his father in New York City for a while hadn't. He was glad that the Hales had been more than willing to buy the place from Noah to allow him to get a smaller place when Stiles moved into the Hale loft. Stiles still saw his father most days, and he talked to him every single day.

Derek tugged Stiles to his bedroom, stopping to get him down to his boxers and then into a pair of sweats. Stiles was still a little damp, but that was okay. He felt like he needed to sleep for hours, and the damp wasn't going to hurt him, not with how fast he would warm up with two Werewolves in bed with him.

A few minutes after lying down, another person joined them. Stiles heard the soft conversation, and he knew that it was Peter. He was behind Malia. When the nightmares were at their worst, this was what he woke up to and for once, falling asleep with it made him feel safe, like no one in the world could touch him. He hadn't felt that since he had been arrested. Thankfully being the Sheriff's son meant that he was protected while in jail. No one needed him injured because someone was pissed at the Sheriff.

Yet, the feeling of safety hadn't come back until now. Stiles knew that he was safe, but he didn't feel it, but every day he felt a little safer. He was glad of that. The world was changing as he learned more about it than he had in Beacon Hills and his place in it. He hadn't known anything about his family's history, so he was glad to know that now. His mother's death had robbed him of being able to learn about this to stop shit from happening.

"Sleep," Derek said.

"Working on it. Takes a while to shut my brain down," Stiles said. He closed his eyes again and let his mind try and clear itself. He was getting better at it, and he was happy about that. He would get better. There was no option, but there was no time for that. He had all the time in the world.

The End