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Derek does expect to meet Scott at some point. One of the most important people in Stiles’ life, and one of the people who had been in it the longest. Their relationship is only a few months new, and they’re serious even though they haven’t used the big L word yet, and Stiles is much closer to Derek’s family thanks to working at the school, but he knows this is a big deal.
He just didn’t think it was going to happen like this. He doesn’t imagine the whole thing going down while he’s in a state of half-panic because Miguel can’t walk, and every time Derek touches his leg or his stomach, he whines and yelps. He doesn’t imagine carefully loading Miguel into the back of Stiles’ jeep and hauling ass across town to the vet clinic where Scott works.
So yeah, he’s kind of a hot mess the first time Derek meets the most important person in Stiles’ life.
Derek sits with Miguel while Stiles rushes inside to get a cart so they don’t have to jostle the dog anymore than they already have. It’s a blessing in a way, because they’re escorted in through the back door, one of the vet techs handling the cart, and Derek’s hand gripping the back of Stiles’ bicep so tight he’s probably leaving bruises. But it’s all he can do to keep focused and calm because Miguel is family, he’s…he’s been so much for Derek, and to Derek, for so many years, and Derek knows that dogs die, that it’s inevitable that Miguel wasn’t going to work forever but…
He’s not ready. He’s just not ready yet.
Thanks to Stiles’ connections, Derek and Stiles are immediately in a room with Miguel lying on his side on the exam table. The vet tech is taking all the vitals from the dog, and Stiles is carefully writing out the health information down. “I’ll have Becca up front call your vet office,” Stiles says, and squeezes Derek’s thigh. “You cool if I run this out there to her?”
Derek nods. “Yeah.” He doesn’t explain the rest—how the association who gave Miguel to Derek is supposed to handle all this, but the closest one is in San Francisco which seems too far to drive with Miguel like this. And Derek has money. He’s always had it, and he doesn’t care if he has to drop it all right now on this clinic and live out of his sister’s car if it means that Miguel will be okay.
Before he can really panic, Stiles is back, and he’s taking Derek’s free hand, since his other one is buried in the fur on Miguel’s neck.
There’s a short wait, and Derek’s grateful that Stiles doesn’t say anything during that time, because everything is just overwhelming. Then the door opens, and Derek stiffens as Miguel shifts, then whines in pain again.
“Hey there. Derek, right? I’m Scott. I’ve heard about a million hours worth of stuff about you and Miguel since Stiles started working at the school.”
“All terrible, I’m sure,” Derek mutters, understanding why Scott is keeping up friendly banter in spite of the situation.
“Nah. I mean he’s not the most trustworthy, but there’s some measure of truth to everything, right?”
“Rude,” Stiles says, and Derek can hear the slight grin in his voice.
There’s a pause, then Scott says, “You cool if I check over the dog?”
“Yes,” Derek says, his tone stiff, though he doesn’t mean it to be. He just…he just needs this to go well.
Scott hums, and Derek feels Miguel shift, and whine a little, but nothing bad. “Alright, he had surgery recently, right? To remove a growth on his leg?”
“Yeah,” Derek says. “It was benign.”
“Good sign,” Scott says. He does something else which makes Miguel yelp, but the pup doesn’t try to get away and Derek thinks it’s either a mark of how good Scott is at his job, or how sick Miguel is that he can’t get up now. He really hopes it’s the former. “So there’s probably an intestinal blockage, so we’ll want to get some xrays on that and see if he needs surgery. And I think there’s another growth on his leg which is pretty common for his age and his job. You use him every day?”
“No,” Derek says, then breathes out and frees his hand from Stiles’ so he can brush it through his hair. “Not every day. He’s been slowing down so I try to give him time off.”
“Alright,” Scott says, no judgment, just listening. “I’m going to have my tech come in here and tell me what she can see, then we’ll get him in to x-ray.”
Derek startles, having forgotten for that moment Scott is also blind, and he feels a weird sense of relief and solidarity about it. He sits back and lets Scott and the tech do some work, then Miguel is taken out for some x-rays and Derek and Stiles are alone.
“I told you he’s good,” Stiles points out.
Derek huffs. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We don’t even know what this is.”
Kidneys, it turns out. Miguel has stones, and that’s what’s causing the pain. The growth is also back, but Scott thinks they can lance it and drain it since it’s fluid-filled, and not put Miguel through the surgery. “He just needs to pass the stones, and we can give him something for that, and for the pain. But there is something you need to consider,” he finishes, and then Derek’s stomach is in his feet.
“I know,” he says, his voice very quiet. “I…I’ve…been aware of it for a while, I was just hoping not yet.”
“Not yet what?” Stiles all-but demands.
“Retirement,” Scott fills in, and Derek is grateful again that he doesn’t have to say it aloud. “Guide dogs don’t work that long, ten years max, and I think Miguel is pushing that.”
“Nine,” Derek confesses. He would have retired him earlier, but he’d been doing so well, and Derek just wasn’t ready.
“What does that mean?” Stiles asks, and still sounds kind of panicked.
“It means he’ll get to lay around and be lazy and get soft and spoiled,” Derek manages to say. It’s a small comfort, that even though Miguel can’t work for him anymore, he’ll still be there for a while.
Though with the way he’s been getting sick lately, Derek knows he’ll have to start preparing. The thought makes him nauseated, and he wishes he could just take Miguel and go home and pretend like none of this ever happened.
Instead he agrees to let Miguel stay over night so that way Scott can set him up with an IV, drain the cyst on his leg, and get his kidneys going so the stone passes. It’s not the worst thing.
Derek pays, and then he gets into the jeep, and he says very little as Stiles pulls out onto the road.
He’s quiet for a bit. “Does this change plans this weekend?”
Derek frowns, then remembers. Rosh Hashana. He was bringing Stiles to the preserve for the first time to celebrate the new year with his parents, to meet everyone properly, and stay through the weekend. “No,” he says. “No that’s…I mean, I’m still going. Of course I want you to come with me.”
Stiles lets out a breath. “Okay. I mean, if you need space…”
“It isn’t that. Retiring Miguel just means a pretty big lifestyle change, and that’s…a lot to deal with. I’m just worried,” he adds quietly.
“Scott’s the best in the biz,” Stiles insists.
Derek doubts that—but then again he trusts literally no one with the life of his dog so… “It’s not that,” he says.
“No, I know,” Stiles goes on. The jeep takes a kind of shaky turn, and Stiles barrels on. “But it’s not the end of everything right? I mean, you can get a new dog once Miguel retires. I’ll do some research when I get to my laptop, and we can get started on sending some emails or whatever you need to do to…”
“Stiles,” Derek barks, and his boyfriend goes quiet. “I don’t want to do this right now.”
“I get that,” Stiles says, “which is why I’m offering to help.”
Derek feels a familiar turn, and he knows his place is only a few houses up. “I don’t want your help,” he says honestly. He doesn’t want to think about any of this right now. He’s not an idiot, he know what to do, and who to call. He’s got a contact, and when he’s ready…but Stiles doesn’t get that. Doesn’t get that it’s not like a new pair of shoes. You don’t put one dog out to pasture and then immediately welcome another one into your home. It’s complicated and it’s hard, and there’s no guarantee you’re going to find a dog that bonds with you and can work with you. It’s a lot of frustration and heartache, and on top of that, he’ll be mourning losing Miguel.
And that’s not to say anything of how long it will take him to really trust a new dog, because with Miguel it had taken him almost a year to feel really sure he was safe near busy streets and unfamiliar neighborhoods.
Stiles stiffens though, and his voice is tense as they pull up to the house. “You don’t have to be a dick about it.”
“And you don’t need to put your nose where it doesn’t belong,” Derek snaps. His pain and anger are ramping up, and he gets out of the car, setting his cane in front of him. He hears Stiles’ door shut, so he waits. “This isn’t your business.”
“Derek,” Stiles says, his voice stubborn as ever. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like you can’t get a new dog. It’s not like…”
“Shut up,” Derek snaps. “Just…shut up. And go home. I…I need some space.” He doesn’t wait for Stiles to respond, instead just turning on his heel and heading for the house.
He gets in a minute later, then stands by the closed door with his forehead pressed to it, and he doesn’t breathe out a sigh of relief until he hears Stiles’ jeep puttering back down the street.
---
On the couch at Scott’s, Stiles has his arms over his chest, pouting as Scott shoves pizza into his mouth and says nothing during Stiles’ rant. Stiles has been there for hours, since Scott got off work, and he knows he’s being an unpleasant house-guest, but his boyfriend—the guy he was supposed to be spending the weekend with—told him to shut up and basically kicked him out.
So yeah. Things weren’t exactly going well.
“…and I just … like fuck him, right? For being such an ass. I mean, I’m trying to take some of the pressure off and he’s out there being a dick…”
“Can I say something without you like…ripping my head off?” Scott asks. He sits back against his corner of the couch, and he’s got his face turned toward Stiles, but his eyes are closed.
Stiles sighs. “Yeah, I guess. But if you’re taking his side…”
“Dude, you know we’re ride or die bros for life. You’re the reason I got to drive, and you know I’ll ride in on my fake-ass steed and fight anyone for your honor and shit. But also you’re not…exactly right on this one.”
Stiles’ mouth drops open. “How the fuck…”
“It’s because you don’t get it. And you know I try not to pull the, you’ll never get it cause you can see thing on you, but in this case it’s pretty freaking true.”
Stiles clenches his jaw hard, and huffs, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Am I being a huge dick if I ask you to explain?”
“No,” Scott says, and grins at him. “But you still might not get it. It’s like the same reason you ranted for two hours at me because of Derek’s shitty attitude about you working at BHHS. It’s kind of the same deal.” Before Stiles can retort that it’s not the same because it’s not like he’s giving guide dogs to people who can see, Scott says, “Derek spends probably seventy percent of his day trusting things he has no guarantee won’t fail him.” That shuts Stiles right up. “Like okay, his sisters, right? He can ask them what color his shirt is. And they’ll probably tell him the truth, but he has no actual way of verifying it himself. He can ask a hundred people who can see what color his shirt is, and they can all tell him black, but it could still be pink and he has no way of knowing. So then imagine that he has to put that kind of trust in a dog. Who can’t talk to him, who literally keeps him from walking into traffic or off a cliff…”
“Dude, when is he going near cliffs,” Stiles says, for lack of anything else to say, mostly because he feels like the world’s biggest asshole right now.
“You know that’s not the fucking point, Stiles,” Scott says, just a hint of impatience. “The point is, the place he’s at with Miguel took nine years of work. And being like, oh you can just get another dog, isn’t what he wants to hear. He probably just wants to be sad about it, and process the fact that for a while—and maybe for like…a long while, he’s not going to have that. It means relying on other things. It means giving up some measure of independence because his cane can’t do what a dog does.”
“He’s got me,” Stiles grumbles.
“You’re a boyfriend, not a guide-person,” Scott reminds him. “He knows you don’t mind, but that’s not…feeling dependent on another person for those things…”
Stiles bows his head and stares hard at his lap because he knows this. It’s why Scott and Allison broke up, because she couldn’t separate herself from what she thought Scott needed from her, and it just got messy and complicated. And Stiles had spent years watching Scott navigate those complicated relationships with women who could see, and couldn’t seem to understand what Scott needed from them. He spent years bitching with Scott about how much sighted people suck and now he was just one of them. To his boyfriend.
The guy he loved.
God, he was the worst.
“I need to go over there,” Stiles said, trying to get up.
Scott, who knew his friend way too well, dove at him and caught him by the edge of his shirt. “You need to chill out, and play some Mario Kart or something, and then tomorrow when he’s had space, then you go talk to him.”
“We were supposed to spend Rosh Hashanah with his family,” Stiles mutters. “We were leaving in the morning.”
Scott snorts a laugh. “Then you’d better make that apology real good, dude. But I can tell he loves you. He’ll forgive you.”
Stiles wants to believe that, but he’s feeling very unsure.
---
Derek’s sitting on the porch steps, listening to the quiet sounds of the preserve, enjoying the weather before it starts to get truly cold. But it’s hard to really feel at peace when his insides are at war with himself. Being here feels wrong, his impulsive decision making was just…it was wrong, and immature, and there’s almost nothing he hates more than this kind of regret.
The door opens a minute later, and there’s a quiet shuffling of slippers on the wood floor. Then a warm body beside him and he recognizes Laura. “Well,” she demands.
Derek sighs. “Well what?”
“Well, you’re brooding, so do you want to talk about it, or do I have to beat it out of you?”
Derek snorts, and sips his coffee which is starting to get kind of cold from the early morning air. “I was an idiot.”
“Yeah, what’s new,” she says, and she knocks into him playfully.
“I’m not supposed to be here alone. I mean…me and Mimi. We weren’t supposed to be here alone.”
“I’m aware of that. I was there when you invited Stiles,” she says softly.
Derek drags a hand down his face and contemplates how much crow he’s going to eat if he asks her to drive him into town.
“It’s more than just that, isn’t it?”
He hates how well she can read him. “I don’t want to be able to kick him out,” he admits.
“…what does that mean?”
“It means, I don’t want the option of kicking him out. I don’t want…I don’t want him to have another home to go to. And that’s kind of freaking me out because we’ve only been dating three months.”
“But it’s how you feel,” she states, not a question.
Derek sighs, leans into her and smiles when her head rests on top of his. “It’s how I feel.”
“Cora texted you. Your phone was buzzing like the world was ending, so I checked it. She said Stiles was lurking outside your house, so she took him inside and she wants to know what she’s supposed to do with him.”
Derek stiffens, and he feels an intense urge to call Cora right now and demand she get in the car and drive him here. But it’s early. And it’s so like Stiles to be stalking outside his house waiting for him like that. And he can only imagine how pissed off Stiles is going to be that Derek came here without him.
He needs a gesture.
“He could run screaming for the hills if I ask him to move in with me,” he confesses.
“Yeah. But he could also say yes. Or he could say no, that he wants to wait a while, and that’s fine too. Maybe you could start with giving him a key.”
It’s an idea. A pretty good one.
“Can you go text her back and tell her to bring Stiles. Also tell her she doesn’t need to get his stuff because I uh…I brought it with me.”
Derek feels his cheeks get hot as she laughs at him, then kisses him on the forehead and goes back in. Derek lets himself brood for a little while longer, then heads back in to shower so he’s not a total garbage dump by the time his boyfriend gets there, and he’s ready to ask forgiveness.
---
He doesn’t need to, as it turns out. Or well, he doesn’t need to beg, at least, because Stiles is already doing that. They’re out front near Cora’s car and Derek is listening to the crunch of pine needles under Stiles’ chucks as he paces and rambles on about how he was an insensitive asshole, and that Scott is a god for knocking some sense into him over it.
Derek lets him for a while, then just holds out a hand and Stiles goes quiet, then walks into the embrace and lets Derek crowd him up against the car and kiss him. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to leave you. All of this felt like a lot, and I didn’t know how to handle it, or to stay calm enough that I could get you to understand what I needed. I’ll try harder.”
“Wow,” Stiles breathes, then puts a warm hand on Derek’s cheek and kisses him long, and lazy, and slow. “I forgive you.”
“I forgive you too,” Derek says. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls the key out that Laura ran off to Ace to get copied, and he grabs Stiles’ wrist, feeling to make sure his palm is open before pressing the metal there. “This is for you.”
“I. Uh. What.”
Derek clears his throat and tries not to panic. “For you to have. Because I don’t want to…I want my place to be like your place. I don’t want to have the right to tell you to just go like that. I might need space some days, I might need you to take a drive or something. But I want you to come back. I always want you to come back.”
Stiles breathes, and it’s shaking a little, and his voice is tight when he says, “Yeah. I want that too.”
“And maybe when your lease is up we can. Uh. Revisit?” Derek offers.
Stiles kisses him, surprising Derek, but he recovers quickly and holds him tight, and kisses back. “We can definitely revisit that. Right now I’d like to revisit a lot of things, but it’s new years and we have other stuff to be doing and what I have in mind is pretty freaking not kosher. Plus like, we’re at your parents’ house. And that is…yeah.”
Derek laughs into his mouth, then digs his hands through Stiles’ hair and holds him tight. “Mimi always goes to bed early. And you know that old saying, ring in the new year with what you want to spend the rest of the year doing…”
“Parents house,” Stiles reminds him.
Derek huffs. “I just meant being with you. Because you’re important to me. Now, come on, you have to meet my family.”
“Does this mean I’m destined to spend the new year in hella awkward situations?” Stiles asks as he lets Derek drag him up the porch steps.
Derek can’t help his grin as he yanks Stiles inside, exactly where he’s supposed to be.