Derek wasn't as prepared as he would have liked when they pulled up to the visitor's entrance of the hospital only ten minutes later. He both loved and hated that they lived so close, and right now it was more on the hate side of things.

Peter being out all night had really thrown him for a loop, and he hadn't realized how much he had come to depend on him being a phone call away at all times. And most of the time it wasn't even that far. Usually he could reach out and touch him, like now, but last night had been different. And it had felt different.

A situation he didn't want to repeat.

They got out of the car shortly after they parked, again leaving Derek no time to collect his thoughts, and Peter stretched wide and yawned loudly as he stood up to his full height again.

"We should've waited until you had a nap," Derek insisted as they walked toward the entrance. "This was a bad idea."

"You need to chill out," Peter said, another yawn threatening to take over. "I can handle myself just fine. I'm not that old."

He gave Derek a wink, which only caused him to roll his eyes in return, as they stopped outside the sliding glass doors just enough not to set off the sensors. They both peered through, trying desperately not to look like creepers, as they assessed the situation.

"That's Scott's mom at the front desk," Derek explained.

"I always thought she was pretty," Peter said absentmindedly. Derek was sure he didn't need to be here for this part of the conversation, but it wasn't like Peter even really noticed anyone else was around when he spotted a gorgeous woman. "I can get us past her."

Derek snorted his laughter. "Melissa McCall is a badass. You are not going to be able to flirt your way past her."

This time it was Peter's turn to roll his eyes. "Well, if you prefer, sneak past me while I'm horribly failing at flirting with her and let me in the back."

"Better," Derek said with a chuckle. "But I will admit it's going to be fun watching you crash and burn at this. Been a minute."

"How much are you willing to bet on it?" Peter asked, straightening out his shirt.

"Dinner from that expensive Italian place one town over," Derek offered with a smirk. "Werewolf-sized dinner. For me, you, Scott, and, hell, even Stiles."

"You're on," Peter conceded.

Derek reached out without hesitation and shook Peter's hand in agreement as they both sauntered forward slowly, Derek a few steps behind intentionally.

"Have fun at your funeral," he whispered. "I'll be right behind you."

Peter stood up as tall as possible, briefly squinting at his reflection in the window as he passed it to check his overall appearance, before heading inside finally. He had been out all night, was working with no sleep or even a shower, and yet he still looked like he always did. One of the many reasons why Derek Hale had a confidence problem.

As he watched his uncle loiter next to a sign while he waited for Melissa to be free, he took stock of him for the first time since this morning. He had been too distracted by the fact that he wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere, so he hadn't paid that much attention.

To start, his arm was sporting a few bruises, which meant that earlier that night it had been much worse. He knew better than to ask, though. Peter had always had a habit of keeping the worst from Derek, citing the fact that he was supposed to shield him from the bad stuff. Not that Derek needed him to anymore. But it didn't matter. Old habits died hard in the Hale Pack, and they were both living proof of that.

The minute Melissa was free, Peter sidled up to the desk and plastered on his best smile. It was the one Derek had seen work very well over the years, and he prayed it would again. Or, at the very least, he'd get a good show out of it when it didn't work.

"Pardon me," Peter began softly. "I'm hoping you can help me."

Melissa looked up at him slowly, from where she had been shuffling papers around on the desk that Derek couldn't see from where he stood.

"Of course. What can I do for you, sir?"

"Sir makes me sound so old," Peter complained playfully. "And I'd hate to be too old for a woman as beautiful as yourself."

Melissa laughed heartily, wearing the same smile Derek had seen on Scott many times when he was messing around at practice with Stiles. "You must want something I'm not supposed to give you," she observed astutely.

"I don't even remember what I wanted anymore," Peter answered with a shrug before glancing at a pamphlet display beside her. "Maybe, uh, a pamphlet?"

"In the market for a pamphlet, huh?" she asked politely, raising an eyebrow. "Menstrual cycle? STDs? Oh, I got it. Vasectomy?"

She grabbed the last mentioned brochure and plopped it down on the counter between them, daring him to be more outlandish than he had already been, and Derek was eating it up. He knew he needed to sneak past, but he was having way too much fun now.

Peter wrinkled his nose. "No thank you. How about this one?" he picked one up and Derek nearly burst out laughing. "Safe sex. Always important. Especially when I ask you to dinner and back to my place afterward."

"You know, I bet that pretty face and tight v-neck get you almost everything you want, don't they?"

Derek had to hand it to her, she really wasn't a woman to be trifled with. And if Scott had even half as much of that spunk, he would be just fine during his transitions and training sessions. She actually reminded him of his own mother. Strong, a little sassy, and definitely possessing the ability to see through anyone's bullshit. It was nice to know that hadn't disappeared entirely from Beacon Hills when his mother, Talia Hale, had vanished from his life.

"Maybe," Peter agreed finally. "Did it work?"

Melissa shook her head with another gentle laugh. "You are far too young for me, sir. But is there anything I can help you with? For real?"

Derek walked past quickly, realizing the fun was over, not looking back but keeping an ear out to hear the end of their conversation as he headed to the back door where he needed to meet Peter.

"No. I know when I'm beat," Peter acknowledged. "As much as it hurts me."

One last look from Derek as he rounded the corner saw Peter with his hand over his heart as he gave Melissa his best puppy dog eyes, making her and Derek both laugh and shake their heads again.

"Points for persistence," she confessed. "I can help the next person."

Derek wasted no more time as he made a beeline for the door in question, knowing if he wasn't careful Peter would end up beating him there and then he'd know that Derek had witnessed the pitiful display. Probably the last thing he wanted.

Thankfully, when he made it, Peter had just shown up, and Derek shut the door behind him as they both headed for the morgue just down the hallway they were already in.

"So...," Derek said slowly. "When's dinner?"

Peter huffed lightly. "Pick your night," he mumbled.

Derek chuckled again as they headed into the familiar room, holding the door open for Peter as he went first. In all honesty, Derek hated this room, but right now it held the key for their latest mission. Right now, he reminded himself, it couldn't be the place he had identified his mom and sisters' bodies.

Peter didn't falter as he made his way to the wall of cadaver refrigerators, obviously not weighed down by the memories that were plaguing Derek.

He opened the one drawer with a tag on the outside and pulled the tray out, unzipping the black body bag. Derek wanted desperately to stay present in the moment, but he knew it was impossible. Leaning into it, and letting it take over fully, wasn't an option either. So he closed his eyes and let himself have one full second as that awful night washed over him, threatening to pull him under.

"Definitely right for a werewolf attack," Peter commented, jerking Derek back to the present.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back where he should be, and he walked forward quickly to stand next to Peter. "Are they a little... too clean?" he asked, observing the wounds.

Peter shrugged. "A werewolf with suitable control could make cuts that clean." He tilted his head to get a look from another angle. "I can make cuts this clean, for instance. When I concentrate."

Derek nodded. "Yeah. I've seen you do it," he assented. "I guess I'm just hoping for something to be off, ya know?"

"Understandable." Derek could feel Peter's eyes on him as he studied the body, his brows furrowing deeper. "You still think something is off, don't you?" he questioned.

"It just doesn't... feel right," he admitted.

"What makes you say that?"

"I do smell a werewolf on the body, but it's... light, I guess is the word I'm looking for," Derek added.

"And if he was slashed from a distance, the scent wouldn't be strong," Peter argued. "The body's also been sitting in here for a while. And has been handled by multiple people."

He listed off each reason like it made perfect sense, and Derek knew that it did, but his gut was telling him something different. Something he couldn't quite articulate.

Peter took a long whiff and then started to cough. "Plus this guy absolutely reeks of ganja," he said, covering his nose.

Derek couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I got that too."

"Clearly the video store doesn't drug test in Beacon Hills," he said, waving his hand around to break up the smell. "Good to know."

They both stared at the body for a solid minute before Peter reached over and zipped the bag back up and closed the drawer.

"Well, without any other theories," Peter piped up, "I'd say it's a wolf. Maybe even the same one that bit Scott. Which means we have a problem on our hands. Possibly a big one." He stuffed his hands in his pockets as they walked back the way they came. "If this... let's call it a rogue since we have nothing else to go on here. If this rogue continues to get out of hand, regardless of the reason, we need to start training Scott. Like...yesterday."

Derek pushed the swinging door back open as soon as it was clear. "You're right," he answered with a deep sigh. "I'll talk to him after practice."

"You can't take no for an answer this time, I'm afraid," Peter emphasized. "Whatever did this isn't going to hold back, so we can't either."

Derek gave him another nod, but didn't say anything else. He had been afraid of hearing those words since Stiles had called him, and now that it was all but confirmed, it did little to make him feel better. He had always assumed knowing would set him free in these instances, and they never did. It made it worse somehow.

But Peter put his arm around Derek's shoulder, and he was reminded that no matter what happened, no matter who came after them, he wasn't in this alone. That's all that could mean anything. That's all that ever had before, anyway.

As they walked back out into the bright sunlight, each off to do their own thing, Derek to teach and Peter to sleep, he knew that they were at least going to have something to come back to at the end of the day. And with as bad as it had been in the past, it was nice to know they had that.