Chapter Text
Stiles stopped believing in true love when he was thirteen years old.
That was the year of his first heat. He remembered every agonizing moment of painful arousal and the emotional roller-coaster that had accompanied it. He remembered clearly focusing on the fact that three out of nineteen teenagers attempted to commit suicide during or in the week after their first heat. He remembered not wanting to become just another statistic in some lame tabloid aimed at scaring the populace into obeying the bureaucratic bullshit that politicians decreed.
Three years later and he still didn't believe in love, even after watching the blooming relationship of his best friend Scott McCall and his sweetheart Allison. To excuse his lack of interest in sex or relationships Stiles had made sure everyone thought he was in love with Lydia, with her long beautiful strawberry blonde hair, her perfect GPA and seductively delectable figure. It hadn't taken much effort to convince people he was lusting after the unattainable, at least people who didn't already know the truth believed his façade. Stiles sometimes got the impression that his dad disapproved of the attention he lavished on Lydia, who didn't even realise he was alive let alone male, and other times it was almost like his dad wished it was true so that Stiles wouldn't be hurt by the fact that his real mate didn't want him or, apparently, even want to be in the same state as him.
Derek Hale was currently residing in New York City, miles from where Stiles was. At first it had been a thing of necessity, Derek's family had died in a tragic fire and while his uncle Peter was recovering it was decided that Derek and Laura would be better off in New York with a relative. Stiles had missed Derek sorely but with the innocence only a nine year old child could feel. It had been expected that Derek would return home eventually, although once he finished with high school he decided to attend college in the city rather than somewhere closer to home despite the fact that Laura had returned to California to take up residence in the Hale House as Alpha's Second. People excused this as typical teenage antics, as Derek wanting to have his freedom for as long as possible before returning home to his mate and responsibilities. Other people, less kind, whispered behind Stiles's back that the alpha's nephew was off 'sowing his wild seeds' while he still could. Stiles hated to think of Derek as avoiding him, as thinking of Stiles as a weight around his neck, the figurative ball-and-chain, but it hurt far more that Derek was probably off fucking pretty girls and sexy boys while Stiles was at home waiting, growing heat sick three or four times a year. Worse was still to come, although not even sad lonely Stiles could have predicted the magnitude of his mate's cruelty. When Derek finished college, he still failed to return. Six weeks passed, and people were still hopeful, suggesting that he was enjoying the summer sun and spending some time saying goodbye to his friends and his home. Then before they knew it four months had passed, and then it was a year. The final mark for Stiles had been his sixteenth birthday, which had taken place a week before school started up. Derek still did not come home, and Stiles thought himself a fool for holding out even the tiniest molecule of hope that he would. Obviously their mate bond meant less than nothing to Derek.
Then Laura died.
Stiles was grief stricken. Laura had been his lifeline. She had made sure he took his meds, that he ate right when his dad was too busy working to even remember he had a son let alone what a vegetable looked like. Laura taught him how to surf, and watched cheesy horror movies with him on Halloween. She had also acted as a go-between for Stiles and Peter, because frankly the Beacon Hills Alpha was freaking scary. The idea of Laura not being around, not being alive... it was as hard as when his mom died, only this time he wasn't some lost kid wondering where his mom was and why she wasn't coming back. This time he knew.
“Have you called him?” Stiles asked his dad as he sat on the worn fabric couch in their living room, the same one he had sat in when they told him that there had been a fire at the Hale house, that Derek was leaving, and that his mom was dying. There had been good times too, but right now Stiles couldn't remember a single reason why he had ever smiled or laughed.
“He's on his way back,” his father confirmed. They both knew who they were talking about, there was no need to say his name.
“I'm going to go upstairs,” Stiles said.
“I could... stay home from work?” the Sheriff suggested awkwardly.
Any other day he would have called Laura to come over and comfort Stiles, to look after him while his dad went back to his dangerous job. Any other day Stiles would have begged him to stay home, just once, so Stiles wouldn't have to worry about losing his only parent.
“No,” Stiles said vehemently. “Not while the monster who... hurt her is out there. Please, dad, I'll be fine,” he insisted.
The Sheriff nodded silently. Stiles would be fine, but he wasn't right now, and there was nothing the Sheriff could do to make it any better.
*
When Stiles woke up, Derek was there.
Somehow, despite years of disappointment, he wasn't surprised.
“She's really gone,” Stiles said, and felt the pain all over again in fresh new waves. He didn't know what he had dreamed of, but his face was damp with salty tears and the sheets where a tangled mess around his legs.
Derek's eyes flashed brilliant blue and he growled slightly. Stiles pulled the leather jacket that Laura had left at his house three days ago closer, letting her scent waft over him and comfort him in her absence. Even that would eventually fade, like the memory of her laugh.
“Sleep,” Derek said, and Stiles glanced at the electric alarm clock on his bedside table. The LED flashed 3:11am but Stiles knew he wouldn't be able to sleep.
“Can't,” he told the other werewolf stubbornly. It was kind of arrogant for Derek to disappear for half his life and then return thinking he could just boss Stiles around and he'd just be obeyed. Of course Stiles expected nothing less from a Hale wolf. Laura had been the same.
“You will,” Derek promised although it could easily be mistaken for a threat.
Moments later Stiles' body betrayed him as his eyes fluttered close and he sank back into unconsciousness. This time he dreamed of happier memories, particularly at Stiles' seventh birthday party when Derek had insisted on sharing his plate and had finger fed Stiles a large slice of chocolate fudge cake and Laura had sat opposite them making 'ewww' faces at them.
This time when Stiles woke he was alone. And his heart ached all the more.