Work Text:
Archie was crying again. Derek laid in the big king bed for a minute, anticipating the usual, “It’s your turn” so he could have a quick argument over who was supposed to get the baby before he inevitably got up, but as it had been for the past three months, the right side of the bed was silent. Derek pulled himself up and out of the large bed, barely feeling the cold that embraced him once he left the soft embrace of the comforter. He padded barefoot to the room next to theirs--his--and walked through the open doorway. He went straight to the crib by the window, and picked up his son, cradling him with all the love that currently resided in his heart.
Archie cried a little more, as if to say, “This is some wimpy-ass coddling, Dad,” but after a few minutes he calmed down, seemingly satisfied with Derek’s attention. Derek kissed his son’s forehead and set him gently back into his crib, where he was already snoozing and snoring the cute little snorts he sometimes made. It always reminded Derek of--
Derek went to the doorway of his son’s room, then paused to watch his precious pup sleep for a little while before retiring back to his room. He was greeted with disappointment and slowly crawled back into bed, a habit he picked up from getting back from late trips and calls, and drifted back to sleep not because he was tired, but because he couldn't stand to be awake longer than necessary. Because maybe when he woke up, he’d find out that this was all a dream.
Song: I Need Some Sleep, Eels
In the morning, everything was still the same. The right side of the bed was cold and silent, and Archie was screaming his fucking head off. Derek hopped out of bed and went to his son, changed his diaper, and carried him downstairs so he could start warming up the baby’s bottle. Archie cooed in his tiny baby swing, and Derek winced at the sound.
It had been three months since Stiles died, and nothing had gotten easier.
Well, maybe nothing was an overstatement. After the funeral, Archie would get inconsolable. Derek knew that he was longing for the smell of his papa, and Derek would have to satiate him with the old t-shirts of his dead mate. Derek rationed those like precious chocolate during an apocalypse, but the strong smell of Stiles escaped them after the first month. Since then, Archie had settled down, slowly getting used to a world without Stiles. The background scent of Stiles, though, was everywhere in the house. It was especially evident in his chair, or in front of the stove, or on all of the grocery lists and scatterbrained sticky notes that Derek couldn’t bear to rip off of the fridge. There was still a sticky note reminding them of the annual Beacon Hills Auction on May 5th, and it was currently August. Stiles’s favorite month.
The milk in the saucepan on the stove was easily hot enough, and Derek poured it carefully into a bottle. He scooped Archie up from his chair and fed him some. A bottle and sweet potatoes in the morning, carrots and apples for lunch, and a bottle and peas and soft graham crackers for dinner. Derek reminded himself of the feeding schedule every day, which was also written on the fridge day list in Lydia’s looping script.
She had been a blessing that first month. She was the Hale’s lawyer and one of Stiles’s closest friends, and she had been the one who sorted through everything after his death. She stayed and lived with Derek and Archie as they mourned, and she had been the one who taught Derek how to do everything Stiles usually did. She had been the one who helped him determine a routine, which was detrimental to getting Derek back on track. She had been the one who stayed up until 3am with Derek, sitting with him on his bathroom floor, slapping him in the face and reminding him that he had a baby to take care of now, and did he want to leave Archie without any parents? She’s the one who reminded him to live.
Derek hadn’t been to work since Stiles’s death. It was just too difficult to continue his research job at the museum after...well. His bosses understood, leaving him with an open invitation to return to work if he decided to. Derek didn't think he would ever go back: he had Archie to think about, and since Stiles wouldn’t be there anymore, he had to put the love of both of them into their son. He had enough money saved, anyway, to live comfortably and send Archie to whatever college he wished. Money had never been an issue.
Derek had already been left behind by so many people. Stiles...Stiles was the hardest. It wasn’t anything drawn out, like cancer. If Stiles had gotten cancer or anything like that, it would have been the worst of fates for him. No, Stiles died the way he would have wanted to: protecting his loved ones.
Song: People Ain’t No Good, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
His father had always said that he would ultimately cause his own death. That his flaw of too much loyalty and love would be his end. Derek was just glad that the old Sheriff never lived to see his son's demise. Noah Stilinski died six months before Archie’s birth, a week after Stiles and Derek told him the good news. A heart attack, fast and painless. Stiles had cried for a week. But Derek knew that Stiles never would have wanted his father to outlive his son like he did his wife.
It was something supernatural, because of course it was. Stiles had been learning some basic vigils and charms, small things that normal humans could do. He had also taken the role of pack emissary upon himself, which meant that he was in charge of all pack politics and meetings. He was good at it: had a level head, a kind demeanor, no supernatural powers, and a mediator’s mouth. Derek never quite liked it, but as long as Stiles was with someone from the pack, he could live with it.
What Derek didn't know was that Stiles had recently been dealing with a particularly difficult pack. They had become enamored with Beacon Hills and the diversity in creatures the town had attracted, and wanted the territory and Derek/Scott’s pack members for themselves. Stiles had been meeting with them regularly to make arrangements for a compromise. At first, it seemed like an agreement was going to be made. And then Stiles disappeared. Derek got a phone call one night, Stiles on the other end.
“I love you, I love Archie, I love our pack. Whew, now come and get me, you big oaf! This dumbass alpha thinks that he can use me as leverage against you, and he’s forcing me to make this call. If you want to save me, you’re supposed to come to come to the old preserve, like, now. I think these assholes are bluffing, but his claws do look pretty sharp, so please hurry! Love ya!”
They had hurried there to see some ‘wolves holding Stiles captive, the man himself untouched. He had waved happily. “Hi, honey! Thanks for coming!” Derek had rolled his eyes, and once Scott’s attempts at a civil conversation failed, the all attacked. Derek had made his way to Stiles immediately, but his husband had been holding his own. “Go help Liam! He needs backup. I’ve got this douchebag, go!” Stiles knocked the ‘wolf down with some well-concealed wolfsbane. Derek had nodded and followed his orders.
They had all been so caught up in the fight they didn’t even realize when Stiles and one of the betas went missing. Long after they had won, hours maybe, they were searching the preserve trying to find Stiles. He wasn’t answering his phone, wasn’t howling, wasn’t talking. They couldn't smell him anywhere. It took five hours for someone to finally catch his scent.
Scott’s initial howl still haunts him to this day.
He had sprinted as fast as he could, and once he had arrived at a particularly large tree, he had fallen to his knees in horror. There was no heartbeat, no pulse. Derek hadn't been able to tear his eyes away as he howled. He was later told that his howls were so horrible, Parrish had been called from the police station to make sure someone wasn't being murdered up on the old preserve. Derek had carefully untangled his mate from the tree’s branches, soaking himself in Stiles’s blood in the process. The kill was fresh, and he had vaguely heard Kira barking orders to the betas to find the person who had done this.
Derek had cradled Stiles’s limp body in his arms, desperately throwing him to the ground and attempting CPR. “Derek, stop!! Stop!” He had faintly heard Scott’s cries of horror and pain. “He’s gone. Oh god, please, stop.” Kira had to electrocute him to get him to stop, and once he did he just buried his face in Stiles’s neck and sobbed uncontrollably.
Derek doesn't remember how long he held onto Stiles’s body. No one bothered to tell him. He just remembered passing out from exhaustion and Stiles not being there when he woke up. He never was again.
Derek had spent countless nights wondering why then, why him. Why Stiles had to go at that moment, because of that dispute. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t helped Liam, or if he had forced Stiles to go with him, or if he had put a stop to the emissary business the second Stiles started talking about it. The thoughts tortured him every waking moment. The Sheriff’s department ruled it a murder-suicide, in which the beta that had murdered Stiles committed suicide almost immediately afterward by jumping from a nearby cliff. His body had been so shredded by wild animals that they had to identify him by his dental records.
It wasn’t much retribution, but then again, nothing would have been.
Song: Here Today, Paul McCartney
Throughout life, Stiles had always looked out for Derek and the pack. That’s why, when Derek saw something odd peeking out from behind one of Stiles’s favorite books while he was in the living room, he was curious about what Stiles might have done to look out for them in death. He made his way over to the bookshelf Stiles had insisted they build, hesitating slightly.
He reached behind the book, grabbing the dark yellow packet. It crinkled in his hand, not only implying age, but also misuse. He set the book down and held the folder in his lap. On the front, in Stiles's scratching script, was a single phrase.
In the event of my departure...
Derek stared down at the envelope/folder/packet and fingered it lightly. Was it right to open? He didn't even know that this existed back when Stiles was alive, let alone....
Derek shook his head. It was obvious that he was supposed to find this if Stiles left, why else would his husband have put it in such a meaningful spot? Derek flipped it over and pinched the tiny metal tabs on the side of the envelope so he could flip it open, and then slid out the thick packet of papers inside. One bundle was a large stack of envelopes, all rubber banded together. Derek took off the rubber band slowly, flipping through the envelopes.
For Archibald on his Sixteenth birthday
For Archibald on his Seventeenth birthday.
For Archibald on his Eighteenth birthday.
And so on until his thirtieth. Derek opened the first one, which was the only unsealed one: Archie's sixteenth birthday.
My dearest Archie,
If you're reading this, I never lived to see this day. Oh, how I just ache at the thought. You're only a few months old as I'm writing this, but god I love you so much. I love you more than I ever thought I could love something, and that's why I'm writing to you. You are a gift from somewhere amazing, and I hope that you enjoy your life with your father and I.
I'm sorry I could never live to see this day. You are undoubtedly my pride and joy, and everything you have done makes me so proud. You will have trouble with romance, but this is all a part of growing up. If you would believe it, your father and I hated each other the....
The letter continued for pages and pages, giving advice and telling funny little stories and reminding Archie how much Stiles loved him.
With all my love forever and ever,
Papa
Derek hiccupped a little and placed the letter back into the envelope before rolling the rubber band back on. Stiles must have easily predicted that Derek would want to read the first one and left it open purposefully, so Derek licked and sealed the envelope before putting them all aside. The next stack was a stack of pictures. Some of them Derek had seen before, and others he had never laid eyes on or was even aware of their existence. There was Derek, sitting in his chair reading, Archie perched lovingly in his arm; Derek, making breakfast in their pre-Archie days, a small smile littering his face; Derek, sitting at the kitchen table half asleep. But then there were the ones of Stiles. Ones that Lydia obviously took with her eye for all things bright and beautiful: Stiles sitting on a curb in the rain, a single umbrella keeping him from getting wet; Stiles, soaking, a wide smile on his face; Stiles, fresh off of a roller coaster, eyes alight and hair wild; Stiles, in his garden, a loving look on his face as he caressed a rose he bred himself; Stiles, the same look on his face as he looked down at Derek holding their child, eyes moistened even in the still of the shot.
Song: Left Behind, Spring Awakening
He only remembered bits and pieces from Stiles’s funeral. Melissa’s soft caress of Stiles’s cheek. Kira’s lips crackling with electricity as she kissed his forehead. Liam’s hand scratched to hell as he did nothing but stare and choke back tears. Lydia’s delicate touch when she placed a flower in his dead hands, “You were the brightest thing in this town.” Scott’s sobbed whisper of “You always were Batman. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you, my brother.”
When it was Derek’s turn, he couldn’t speak. He had stood at the coffin, choking on his emotion. He was beyond tears. Beyond everything. Breathing hurt. Blinking hurt. He didn’t even know if he still had a heart, because as he watched Stiles’s body being lowered into the ground, it felt like everything good inside of him had been buried with him.
Scott was tasked with giving the eulogy. It seemed appropriate. “Stiles was my best friend for all of my life. He was beside me when it mattered, he was beside me when it didn’t. He...he was my brother, and...and what happened...it wasn’t…” Scott had continued for maybe two more minutes before Lydia, tears running down her face, had taken over. Scott had run off the stage in his sorrow.
“What Scott was trying to say,” she began, “is that Stiles was a brother, a father, a son, and a friend to all of us. There isn’t anyone here he wouldn’t have died for. You could see his determination and love in everything he did. He loved with all of his heart. His biggest regret in life was that he couldn’t give more. If that doesn’t tell you what kind of person Stiles was, I don’t know what else could. Stiles was...life. He was hope, he was family. He was pack. And you all meant more to him than you could ever imagine.”
He knew that Stiles would have hated it. Everyone was crying and throwing flowers, but they were all too numb to actually celebrate much and give Stiles the joyful goodbye he deserved. Stiles’s favorite flower was lilies. They each had a handful of the flower, and they let the flowers follow Stiles into his grave. The little white flowers fluttered down the dark hole that would be Stiles’s tomb forever, in the plot beside his mother and father. One day, Derek and Archie would join him.
Derek put down the pictures before he even got halfway through them: they were too painful. When he set down the last one, a picture of a beaming Stiles appeared. He had his arms wrapped around two kids, one on each side of him, and the kids were donning graduation caps and gowns, smiles almost as large as Stiles's.
They say those who can't do, teach. That wasn't the case with Stiles. He could do anything, and he did it so well, but he preferred to teach kids to do greatness. Stiles had two funerals: one for close family and friends, and one for the high school he taught at. Almost the entire school showed up to pay their respects. Derek still has the invitation to “Mr. Stiles’s” Celebration of Life deep in his computer drawer. There was news coverage and everything because of how big it was, but Derek never went. The original funeral was hard enough.
Stiles had loved his seniors. He still exchanged emails and letters with the ones he wanted to keep in contact with, and he had social media pages to connect with his students. Now his social media sites were peppered with loving messages from his students, Rest In Peace's, and lots of heart and crying emojis. Derek opened Stiles’ Instagram page once to delete it, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He spent three hours crying on the bathroom floor as he scrolled through the comments and stared at the pictures of Stiles’s most hilarious and ugliest faces until he was laughing and crying again with the pain of it.
Memories of Stiles were still followed by the feeling of Derek’s heart being ripped from his chest, but instead of his heart being stepped on it felt as though it was returned after he held Archie, or received a hug from a pack member, or got another letter from one of Stiles’s former students. He was slowly being healed, maybe.
Song: Beautiful-Acoustic Version, Julian Lennon
Derek is standing on his front porch, where he was the first time he and Stiles kissed. He's standing in his doorway, watching the horizon for...something. The sun is setting, but it doesn't look particularly beautiful. It doesn't look particularly anything, really. It's just there, like it's a fact of life, like it's always been there. The sun finishes its descent and the sky turns a light, milky gray. The grass on his property rustles, and Derek watches as a figure begins to walk into his view. Finally, the thing he's been waiting for arrives.
The figure walks in slowly, treading so lightly it's almost as if he's floating on clouds above the grass. The figure is slow at it ascends, until it finally comes to a stop in front of Derek on the porch. It's Stiles, the man he feels everything with. Black-and-white Stiles smiles his beautiful smile, then brings up his hand to cradle Derek's cheek.
"I've been waiting for you my entire life," Black-and-white Stiles says, and he brushes Derek's face with his fingertips. He brings his lips to Derek's cheek, and they're soft and cold. When he pulls back, there are fat tears rolling down his face.
"Why are you crying?" Derek asks, holding Stiles's face in his hands. Stiles's tears are streaming now, coming down in uneven rivers of rainfall. It takes Derek a second to realize that it's also begun raining above them.
"I can't stay," Stiles sobs quietly, beautiful eyes never leaving Derek's.
"Why not?" Derek is frantic, searching. They are in love, why must they part?
Stiles embraces him softly, and Derek clasps onto him desperately. "Why are we saying goodbye? Stiles?"
Stiles pulls back, smiling softly through his salted tears. "You have to wake up," he whispers. He begins to walk away slowly, and Derek's eyes follow him.
"Stiles! Stiles, don't go!" He makes a move to follow him, but no matter how fast he runs he can't get to the retreating back of Stiles.
Song: Those You’ve Known, Spring Awakening
There were more letters, ones Derek couldn't bring himself to read until a few months later. After storing Stiles's letters to Archie on his own personal bookshelf, he had left the rest of the folder on his desk, and he turned to it now. There were more photos, ones Derek still couldn't stand to look at, but there were also the letters. All of them were addressed to one person: Derek.
He listened for Archie, heard his baby boy's steady breathing in sleep, and then sunk to the floor with the first letter, which was also the longest. None of them were very long, but there were so many. He opened it slowly, inhaling the old scent of Stiles.
My dear, it began.
I'm sorry. With the lives we have lived, I knew there would be a chance I wouldn't live long enough to give you the world. I wrote these not because of my lack of faith in you, but because I do not trust the evil we encounter almost daily. We are a special breed of people (haha, BREED), and there's a good chance either of us will die any second. I hope you never read this, but if you do:
I love you, and I'll always be with you. When we meet again, it will be in a better place, surrounded by our loved ones. Ours was a short love. We met too old, we lost too young. A lifetime still wouldn't be enough time with you. Our love is soft, and gentle, you're sweet and kind, and we're domestic, can you fucking believe it!? We began raising a child. Anything I've ever said to you in love, I meant, and anything I said in hate was not from my heart.
Derek, before we met you were a homebody. You never took chances, and you always blamed yourself. But honey, the time is always now. You have to fight your own mind and give yourself credit. You are an amazing man. That's why I married you. You are an amazing alpha. That's why I picked you. Our child is lucky to have a father that is you. You can't blame yourself for me being gone.
That being said, please don't blame me for leaving you alone. How could I know I would have to leave you? Or that I would have to hurt you so unimaginably? We were made to love each other, and I already miss you. I want you to find happiness always. It's hard because I'm writing this while I'm still alive, and how can I say to go on without me? You still need me, you still need me. Derek, I'm so sorry. Can you forgive me for leaving you? How can I say not to dream about me? How can I ask you to forget our time together? You'll have to find a new way to love me, so love me through Archie. Please, care for the child of our love and I will always look down on you and smile, will never stop waiting for you. I'm sorry, I'm rambling, and it doesn't even make sense. Forget me, remember me, don't dream about me, don't let me leave your dreams. Writing this is so confusing, because you're in the next room and I can hold you, but if you're reading this you can never hold me again.
You are stronger than I ever could be. I never had to live without you. And you...you have to raise the child that is half me. You have to receive the consoling pats and hugs and watch my students, most of whom you never knew, cry about me. You're probably so mad. They don't understand what you feel like, yet they're still allowed to show sorrow. Let them, Derek. They loved me too, and I loved them. Maybe not all of them, but they're seniors. All they know is that they lost someone close to them, some of them for the first time, and they don't know what it means until they go into school the next day and I don't come back. I will never come back. You understand that loss: they have yet to experience it.
I can already see you raising Archie to have your heart. He will be an extraordinary man, and that will be because of you. I’m already weeping about the fact that I won’t watch him live his life by your side, that I won’t see you intimidating his first girlfriend or boyfriend, that we’ll never stay up late together, swaddled in anxiety as we wait for him to come home in time for curfew after his first school dance. I’m trying not to think about all of these moments we won’t have, because the moments we’ve already spent together have been, without a doubt, the most precious of my entire life. Remember our moments in dear times, and forget me when it’s necessary. Be strong for Archie. I know you will be.
One day, my love, we’ll be reunited. I mean, we were the fucking best couple ever in life, can you even imagine how much we’ll dominate death? Until then, I’ll be keeping a close eye on you and Archie. Some nights, I imagine that you’ll feel my embrace. Some days a gentle brush of my fingers against yours. I’ll never leave you for as long as you may live. I’ll be waiting here for you, but don't hurry on my behalf. Enjoy the life you have left. God knows you’re living for both of us now.
I don't know if these words are making it harder or easier to come to terms with my death, but I hope that you can forgive me for leaving you and Archie, Derek. I promise that I never wanted to. I don't. I never want to leave your sides. I want to see Archie grow up, I want to chase away boys and girls, I want to have another child with you, maybe get a few rabbits just because it'd be ironic and hilarious. God, I'm going to miss your smile. And your laugh. And your adorable bunny teeth and sparkling eyes.
Move on, but don't forget about me. Be happy, live. Love again if you want to. Take care of Archie. And don't blame yourself. We'll meet again, my wolf.
Forever yours,
Stiles.
Song: Go On, Jack Johnson
From experience, Derek knew that the death of a loved one never stopped hurting. He felt his losses every day. He could feel the empty places where his parents, Noah Stilinski, Laura, and Stiles were supposed to be. Some days, he couldn’t get out of bed. Some days it was hard to look at Archie, because he was so much like Stiles. Some days, he wanted nothing more than to be dead. Others he was so happy to be alive.
Keeping Stiles’s memory alive was easy. Stiles was in everything he did: the way he made pancakes, the way he taught Archie to tie his shoes, the sticky notes he left for his son every morning. From the moment he realized most of his friends had two parents and he noticed the pictures of a strange man scattered throughout the house, Archie was asking questions about his papa. The first one took Derek by surprise, and he couldn't bring himself to talk about it. By the time Archie was six, he knew enough that he told everyone he met that his name was Archie, he had two daddies, and one of them was dancing in heaven.
And after a while, the pain faded. It never left, but sharing the memory of the father he looked so much like with Archie made it so much easier. At night, he would ask Derek to “sing one of Papa’s songs” to him. Derek would croon the songs that Stiles made up: lyrics that talked about how much he loved Archie paired with the tune of nursery rhymes. Sometimes their son would catch a whiff of Stiles on an old thing that hadn’t been touched in years, and ask if it was his Papa. And as he grew, he read the letters and understood the depth of love his papa had had for him. Derek made sure their son never forgot how much he was loved, and the pack was never short on stories about Stiles.
Although Stiles had never lived to see his son grow, his son grew to know him because of the legacy he had left behind. And for Derek, that was one of the most precious gifts Stiles could have ever left for him.
Bonus Track: How Could I Ever Know, The Secret Garden