If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. But you need to not bait people and then shut them out.

[He's on the cusp of closing off again and darkening behind the eyes, feeling that itch down his back that reminds him of the shed. Of not being privy to something - of... the fact Stiles probably knows what Derek is. Could he? Why would they be so secretive if not to protect one another. He wonders if Stiles is whatever Derek is, too. Something that could be killed with fire? Why can he only think of goddamn witches.]

I'm not going to go telling people. I'm not stupid.