Chapter Text
Stiles roughly sat up from bed, eyes wide and panic filled, sweat running down his face in beaded lines. With a huff, he turned to face his alarm clock, 4:32 shown in red numbers, wide awake, he might as well just get up and get ready. “Another nightmare filled sleep, just what I need” Stiles thought as he pushed himself to get out of bed. Stepping into the bathroom to quickly wash his face, brush his teeth and relieved himself, he looked up into the mirror. “Great…” he sighed aloud, “I look more like a zombie than Peter…heh”. Stiles was met with tired looking eyes surrounded by bruised circles from not enough sleep and too pale skin.
Shaking those observations from his mind, he left the bathroom and changed into a pair of tight fitting joggers and a tank. Slipping on his sneakers he made his was downstairs and out of the house to start his morning run. If you asked Stiles about running a year ago he would have laughed in your face and told you to fuck off but it turns out running is therapeutic along with working out in the gym and he actually enjoyed it now. Turns out he’s a decent runner and really good with a punching bag. Finally, ready, earbuds in and music playing, he starts his run, forgetting blood stained hands, screams so loud they hurt your ears, and a sinister voice whispering in his head.
Nearing the halfway point of his run, passing through a trail in the woods, Stiles noticed something. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a shadow following him, turning around to catch whatever or whoever it was, but nothing was there. Repeating this a few more times Stiles was growing irritable, “Great either I’m seeing shit …again… or this thing is faster than my reflexes, I don’t know which one would be worse”. Continuing his run, faster than before, he got the feeling of being watched again. Deciding he wasn’t going to play these games with whatever is behind him, he comes to a quick stop, spinning out his leg to try and kick the perpetrator his foot making contact with a muscled calf and heard a thump. Looking around towards whoever, his kick took down, Stiles wanted to laugh. Laying on the forest floor looking grumpy as he always does though there was a slight pout to his lips than a firm line, was Derek Hale. Stiles nearly cried in relief but didn’t let it show, only looked down at Derek with amusement, and a hint of annoyance. “Is there any reason you were being a creeper wolf?” Stiles asked with a teasing grin. With a huff and a low growl, Derek replied “…I wasn’t creeping, you’re running through the forest by yourself at 5:00 am, it’s dangerous.”, “…Oh, and what did you mean seeing stuff again?”. Stiles trying to ignore the last part, quickly answered with a smirk, “And just how did you know I was up and running at, what did you say, 5:00 am?”. A blush rose on Derek’s cheeks before he schooled himself in his usual manner, “I was out doing patrol, and I heard you.” “Uh huh…I’m sure.” Stiles answered, “well I’m going to continue my run since you know… no danger, well besides the creeper wolf” he added with a laugh. Turning to start running again Stiles took a breath and a step forward.
“Wait!” Stiles froze, not turning towards Derek but tilting his head in a manner that showed he was listening. Derek was glad Stiles decided to face away from him, his face now a deep red from embarrassment but he couldn’t just let Stiles leave he needed to talk to him. Just because Stiles may have gained some nice muscles doesn’t mean Derek can’t see the tiredness and sadness is his eyes and how gaunt his face looks, almost like he’s being haunted. “Are you coming to the pack meeting, I… we miss you at them, you haven’t shown up all summer. School starts tomorrow and we just… why haven’t you been coming?”
Stiles frowns, finally turning towards Derek. “I didn’t think you’d want me there…” it’s said in a whisper, if Derek didn’t have werewolf hearing he would have missed it. Derek looks at Stiles then, looking like he’d been slapped, “Why wouldn’t we want you there?! Why wouldn’t I want you there?!” Derek’s practically yelling but he needs to know, he needs to understand. He’s been so worried about Stiles and now he’s being told that Stiles thinks they don’t want him. He’s never been so wrong. Stiles’ frown turns into a thin, tight lipped line. “Why do you think Derek… I’m not … I’m not good. Isn’t that what your pack is all about, especially now that you and Scott are working together to be one big happy family? Save lives, be merciful and all that other shit.”
“Stiles…” Derek stares, wondering what to say. Stiles isn’t bad or evil or whatever that fucking demon made him think but how can he convince him, how can he make Stiles see himself how Derek sees him. “I got to go, it was ‘nice’ talking to you. See ya around Der” Stiles says as he quickly turns and continues his run. Derek stands there watching Stiles’ retreating form, he’ll make this right, but he might need a little more help.