[ me, an empath, sensing that some of you are upset with the last chapter...

anyway, i feed off ur pain and i'm a meanie so sorry about that. but that was the trade off for having derek not cheat on willow/leave her for jennifer.

this is just a little filler chapter. i don't super love it given what happened — even though i'm the one that made it happen. but it moves a few things into place before continuing on with the show ]

☽︎

the funeral wasn't for boyd.

[ no episode relation ]

"Where the hell have you been?"

That was the first thing that Derek heard as he slid open the door to his loft. He held back an annoyed eye-roll as he spotted Peter sitting on his couch, a book in hand.

"Go home, Peter," Derek ordered, wanting to be alone.

"No, I don't think I will," he said with a touch of attitude in his tone as he shut the book. "It's been more than a week, Derek. You can't run off like that without your phone, especially with the Alpha pack and Darach still out there."

"You know I needed... time," he said, clenching his fist. "You and Cora both know what it's like to lose a pack member. Now imagine that it's your fault they're dead. The others will understand."

Peter tilted his head and studied Derek. There was a lot of news to dump on him, and Peter was trying to come up with the best way to do it. Perhaps it was best to just rip the bandaid off, but Peter couldn't help toying with him.

"You missed the funeral," Peter said, sighing.

Derek shook his head as he stared at his feet. "I didn't deserve to go. Not when I'm the one that killed Boyd."

Peter's next words had Derek's head spinning.

"The funeral wasn't for Boyd."

☽︎

Willow Worthington cried a lot. It was one of the hallmarks of her personality. And since being introduced to the supernatural world, only a handful of days ever went by without tears from the girl.

But Willow couldn't cry anymore. She didn't have the energy to do it anymore. She cried when they found him. She couldn't stop crying at the funeral. Even slow tears escaped in all the meetings to settle her father's affairs.

But as Willow laid on her bed, staring up at the dim glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling, her exhausted eyes ran dry.

"You know you've gotta eat something eventually today."

"Not hungry yet," she mumbled, turning her face to hide in his chest.

Jackson Whittemore let out a long sigh as he ran a hand through Willow's hair. Given that Mr. Whittemore was a friend of Warren's, and that Jackson wanted to be there for Willow, they had flown in from London for the funeral. Willow had been clinging to Jackson since the moment she laid eyes on him — he wouldn't dare complain.

Willow hadn't been taking the best care of herself since her father's death, but at least she had her friends to help. Lydia and Allison were the ones to drag her into the bathroom to get her to shower and brush her teeth each day. Stiles had to practically force-feed her a peanut butter sandwich on the second day just to make sure she got some food in her. And they all made sure that Willow was never alone.

Whether they slept in a spare room or on the couch or Willow's floor, she was surrounded by the pack. And Willow, too scared to be alone with her thoughts, was thankful. They kept the house from getting too quiet and they ate the overwhelming and endless supply of food that people kept dropping off.

But Willow didn't want mourning casseroles. She wanted her father.

"I can hear Stiles ordering a pizza. Do you think you could eat a piece of cheese bread? For me?" Jackson asked. He moved Willow's hair back so that he could see the side of her face.

"Not hungry," she answered, her words muffled by his shirt.

Jackson sighed, knowing he'd need to negotiate. "If you eat something, I'll tell you a secret."

Willow rolled her eyes. "You don't have any secrets from me. You even told me that you still have that gross tail."

"It's not gross. It's cool," he said, holding back a smile.

"It's gross. Please never show me again," Willow said, finally pulling her face out of his chest. Just thinking of how the long kanima tail came out of Jackson's back made her skin crawl. "Do you actually have a secret?"

"Who knows," Jackson replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Not you since you're not eating."

After a moment of studying Jackson's face, she gave in. Jackson and Willow told each other everything, so if there was something in his life that he was withholding, she wanted to know. Then again, even if Willow had denied the food, he'd eventually tell her anyway.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to eat a piece," she said under her breath. But Jackson's werewolf hearing caught it.

"Well, now that I've got all this shifting stuff under control, I actually went on a date."

Willow raised an eyebrow, surprised that he had decided to start dating again. After everything with the kanima and Lydia and being unable to control his anger, Jackson had repeatedly insisted that he wasn't ready to get back out there.

"Did it go well?" Willow asked.

"Really well, actually," he said, a small smile on his lips.

"What's she like? What's her name?" she questioned. "She's gotta pass the best friend test."

"His name is Camilo," Jackson told her after a moment.

Willow could feel how tense Jackson was from underneath her. She turned her head to look up at him and smiled softly — her first smile since her father's death.

"Well, what's he like? He's gotta pass the best friend test?"

Jackson sighed in relief, not knowing why he had been so nervous. Even though Danny was always around and Willow herself was bisexual, Jackson hadn't actually admitted it to anyone out loud. And though he didn't particularly care what others thought of him, having Willow know was like a great weight was lifted off his chest.

"I love you so much, Willow," Jackson said, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you too, Jack."

☽︎

Derek's hands were shaking as he opened the front door of the Worthington estate. Several cars were outside, all ones that he recognized. But even without the vehicles, his nose told him exactly who all was inside.

Willow, Jackson, Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Cora, Natalie Martin, Noah Stilinski, Melissa McCall.

Boyd.

The pack of teenagers were all sitting around the living room and eating pizza while the three adults were elsewhere in the house. Willow and Jackson were missing as well, and Derek could smell them up on the second floor.

As much as he wanted to run up to Willow to find her and comfort her, his feet were planted to the ground, his eyes never leaving the beta that up until thirty minutes ago, he thought was dead.

"Boyd?" Derek's voice was barely above a whisper, but they all heard him. All chatter ceased as they looked at the alpha that had been missing for over a week.

Boyd stood slowly, letting Cora take his plate of pizza. "Long time, no see," Boyd said with an easy smile as he walked over to Derek.

"H - how?" Derek asked, finding it difficult to breathe. His eyes searched and searched but couldn't find anything wrong with him. "Y - you were dying. I fe - felt your power leave you as you did."

"You've got one hell of a girlfriend," Boyd said, shrugging his shoulders. "I can tell I'm not as strong as before — don't heal as fast either. Guess you've still got that. But something tells me that's a non-refundable exchange. I don't really care though. I'm just glad to be alive."

"Boyd, I'm so - I'm so sorry," Derek said, feeling himself get a little choked up. "I—"

"It wasn't your fault, Derek," he interrupted, shaking his head. "Even when I thought those were my last moments, I never blamed you. So don't blame yourself. Blame the alpha pack. Blame Kali."

It would undoubtedly be difficult for Derek to actually forgive himself. Almost every single one of them had a horrible habit of carrying around unnecessary guilt and shouldering heavy burdens. But seeing Boyd alive was a start.

Derek couldn't stop himself from surging forward and hugging his beta tightly. Boyd was happy to hug back — though he was pretty sure he'd never seen Derek hug anyone but Willow.

Once they parted, Derek's eyes fell on Scott. "Peter... Peter told me he was sacrificed."

"Yeah," Scott said, sighing. He rubbed his face tiredly. "Yeah. We think the Darach took him as soon as we figured out where Deaton was being held. That way it had a backup when we saved him. Mr. Worthington finished out the healers."

Derek clenched his fist angrily. In that moment, he — all of them — wanted the Darach dead more than they wanted to focus on the Alpha pack.

"And Willow?"

"Upstairs," Isaac said, telling Derek what he already knew. "She's been clinging pretty tight to Jackson ever since he got here."

"And if not him, it's Stiles or Isaac," Lydia added. She was clinging to those that had lost one or both of their parents.

"But she's wanted you," Stiles muttered. "She needed you, and you weren't here."

"Stiles, it's not his fault," Cora told him. "He didn't have his phone and he thought that Boyd—"

"It doesn't matter," Derek interrupted. "This has been the most painful week of her life, and I wasn't here for her. I shouldn't have left, not with the alphas and the Darach both out there."

"But you're here now," Scott said softly. "And I'm sure Jackson won't mind sharing Willow for the last day and a half that he's here."

"He might mind a little," Lydia said under her breath, knowing how close the two were.

Back up in Willow's room, Jackson was telling her stories about living in London while she quietly listened. One piece of cheese bread had turned into half the order and a bottle of Gatorade, which Jackson considered a high accomplishment.

But Jackson trailed off, ending his story about getting stuck on the London Eye for three hours when he heard the approaching werewolf.

"I think you've got a visitor," Jackson whispered, brushing Willow's hair out of her face.

"I don't want any visitors," she mumbled, shutting her eyes. "I don't want more meals and flowers and 'I'm sorry about your father's."

"What about an I'm sorry for running off?"

Willow's head snapped up and she instantly spotted Derek. He was standing in the doorway, his head down and not stepping fully into the room. With just one look, she could spot the guilt that washed over him from how his shoulders were sagging.

Eyes that had run dry filled with tears again as Willow scrambled out of her bed and rushed to Derek, throwing her arms around him. She buried her face in his chest, sighing in relief as he held her tightly, burrowing his own face into her neck.

"I m - missed you," she told him. "But I know - I know you had to leave."

"I'm not leaving again," Derek whispered. "Never again."

☽︎

Things stayed quiet for a few more days after the death of Warren Worthington.

The Alpha pack had yet to learn of Boyd's survival, which would no doubt anger Kali — and thrill Deucalion, as it was a sign of Willow's power. And the Darach hadn't begun its new round of sacrifices — though no one thought for a second that it was because it was giving them time to mourn. It was planning something.

But just because things were quiet didn't mean that everyone wasn't busy.

Willow quickly learned that she couldn't stay in her house any longer. Everything was a reminder of her father from the kitchen that he loved to cook in to the height marks on the wall he made as Willow grew to the countless memories they made in the home.

It was too painful, and everyone could see that.

"I know you're eighteen and don't need a legal guardian," Noah had said, sitting on the front porch with Willow one afternoon. "But if being in this place all by yourself is too much, well, we've always got a spare room at ours."

Willow had hugged him tightly and took him up on the offer.

So, as the weekend came, Willow packed Scribbles and what was necessary and threw sheets over the rest of the furniture in the Worthington estate. There was no telling when she'd return.

"Isaac, Scott, Cora, and I are headed back to get the last of the boxes," Boyd told Willow, setting down a heavy plastic bin with all of Willow's shoes in it.

"Thanks," she told him, looking inside the bin. "You know, you don't have to help. This has eaten up a lot of your weekend."

Boyd had practically done anything and everything for Willow. He would bend over backward for her, especially after saving his life. And he made catching and stopping the Darach his top priority. He spent almost every free moment with Stiles or Deaton trying to solve the mystery of who it could be.

"I want to help," he assured her. "And I will also drag Cora along, who may not want to help, but she can't tell me no because I almost died."

The mischievous smile on his face made Willow smile as well. No one had confirmed the relationship between Boyd and Cora, but after Boyd nearly died, Cora was practically glued to his side. And Boyd certainly wasn't complaining.

After Boyd left with the others, Willow was in her new room with Lydia, her mother, and Allison who were all helping her unpack. One of the first things that Lydia had done was place a bright red lipstick print on Willow's mirror so that it matched the one from her old room. Allison was standing on the bare mattress and hanging string lights, and Natalie was organizing Willow's closet by color how she liked it. Willow was delegating while also setting up the corner of the room specifically meant for Scribbles and his things.

"Hey, Will," Stiles said, poking his head in the room. "Dad and I finished putting the new shelf in the bathroom together. So you can put your stuff on it whenever."

"I can take them," Allison offered, finished with the lights and moving to find the cardboard box marked Bathroom.

"Thanks, Stiles," Willow said, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm surprised you're not sauntering around in a tool belt and hard hat."

"I had a plastic one meant for children, but Dad ripped it off," Stiles mumbled, a pout on his lips. "Need any help in here?"

Willow glanced around the room that was slowly coming together. Most of the heavy lifting was done and all that was left was unpacking and decorating. But it'd still be a while before it felt like her room.

"I think we're alright, but if I need you, I'll come bother you. You are just down the hall after all," she said, a small smile on her lips.

Though the circumstances were horrific, Stiles was kind of excited to have Willow living with them — he was even the one to suggest it to his father since they had an extra room.

"Gotcha," he said, nodding his head as he drummed on the door. "I'll get out of your hair. Also, expect a bat in your near future. We keep one in every bedroom."

Willow decided to keep the fact that Derek would be sleeping there practically every night to herself. He'd certainly be more useful than a bat in the event of an intruder. But Stiles would probably start yelling if he knew that Derek was sleeping in the room next to his.

Stiles soon departed, leaving Willow alone with the Martins. She quietly watched Natalie sort through clothes, nervously fumbling with the item in the pocket of her sweatshirt.

"Uh, Natalie," Willow called, just loud enough to get her attention.

"Yes, sweetie?" she asked, taking a break from putting clothes on hangers to pay attention.

"I know we boxed up most of his stuff," she began. "But - but there's something that I think you should have. Not me and not some storage container."

Willow took a seat on the mattress, and Natalie followed.

"What is it?" Natalie asked with a frown. She could see that Willow was upset but couldn't understand why just yet.

"I, um, well, I understand if you don't want it," Willow stated.

Then she pulled out the velvet ring box and placed it on the mattress in between them. In the background, they could hear Lydia let out a surprised and pained gasp, knowing just what it was. Tears welled in Natalie's eyes as she picked up the box and slowly opened it, seeing the engagement ring.

"He showed it to me the morning that—" Willow cut herself off, not wanting to think about that day. About her last moments with her father.

"Oh, Warren," Natalie whispered to herself, her voice cracking a bit. Lydia came up behind her mother to hug her.

"He really loved you a lot," Willow whispered, looking down at her lap.

"I loved him too," she said, wiping under her eyes. Then she pulled Willow into the hug with Lydia. "And I love you too, sweetie. So much."

☽︎

Willow sat on her new bed alone, staring out the window. Unlike her house, the Stilinskis lived on a busy street with plenty of other houses. As she took in the kids playing basketball with the hoop attached to the side of a garage, her mind drifted to Jackson, who was now settled back in London.

"Have you ever thought about leaving?" Jackson asked. He was laying at the feet of Willow's bed while she sat against the headboard. She had just returned from a meeting at the bank that Natalie took her to where they settled all of Warren's accounts.

"What do you mean leaving? Like the house?" she asked, nervously picking at her chipping nail polish.

"Not just the house. I mean Beacon Hills," he clarified.

Willow instantly shook her head. "I couldn't leave."

"You could. It might even be good for you," Jackson told her. "I wasn't thrilled when my family made me move, but now I'm glad. I'm glad I'm not stuck here."

"I'm not stuck here, Jack," she stated. "But Beacon Hills is my home."

"And look what your home's done for you. You've been kidnapped — multiple times — got shot, paralyzed, bitten. I just worry that one day I'll get a call telling me that your funeral is next," Jackson said quietly. There was a bit of fear swimming in his eyes. Fear that Willow wouldn't survive if Beacon Hills continued to be so catastrophic.

"Where would I even go?" Willow asked, only slightly entertaining the idea. "To London with you?"

"We'd take you in a heartbeat," he assured her. Then he shrugged. "You could go anywhere. Be anything. I mean, you're so smart, Wills. You and Lydia could both graduate this year, but I know she's choosing to take an extra class so she stays with everyone. But for you, that could be an early ticket out of here."

"Jackson," Willow said softly, taking his hand in hers. "I can't just leave. I have too many people here even if - even if I don't have my dad."

"And what if not leaving means you die? What if the alphas or the Darach or whatever comes next is the thing to kill you?" Jackson asked. "What then? Will staying really be worth it?"

Willow's eyes began to fill with tears. "You won't lose me, Jackson."

"You know better than anyone right now that you can't promise that."

Willow wouldn't leave Beacon Hills any time soon. Just leaving her house was enough. But Jackson's questions were constantly flying around her mind.

Would this town, like her father, cause her death?

Her gloomy thoughts were cut off by a soft knock on the other window in the room. Willow quickly turned to it and saw Derek outside, waiting for her to unlock it. After getting off the bed, she let him in.

"You know this place has a front door too," Willow reminded him, stepping back so that he could get his feet on the carpet.

"Yeah, but I didn't want to run into Stiles," he muttered, rolling his eyes. Stiles had already given Derek an annoying lecture about how there was to be no making out under his roof. He didn't even entertain the idea of other activities happening. "I know I'm a little later than I said I'd be, but I stopped to pick something up."

"That's fine. Not like we had actual plans," she said, shrugging.

"Um, watching movies with you in my arms is an actual plan," he stated. "But first, I have something for you."

Willow followed Derek's hand as he reached into the pocket of his coat. What he pulled out brought tears to Willow's eyes — happy ones this time.

It was a pack of glow-in-the-dark stars.

"I already checked with the sheriff to make sure he was alright with us sticking them on the ceiling," Derek told her.

She hugged him tightly, whispering a small "thank you" that his ears easily picked up on. Derek tossed the pack of stars onto Willow's desk before hugging her back. He knew how much such a small gift meant to her.

"I love you," Willow whispered, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.

"I love you too," Derek said, brushing her cheek with his thumb as he cradled her face. "And I'm here for whatever you need — stars or a shoulder to cry on or to just hold you when you need it."

"I always need you to hold me," she said softly.

"Then I'll never stop."

"Good. You can hold me while I climb on your shoulders to get these on the ceiling," Willow said, reaching for the stars.

Derek shook his head as he let out a chuckle and grabbed the pack of stars from her. "Or we could get a ladder."

"That's just no fun, Sour Wolf."