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The sky was too bright, the hot and familiar sun beating against the hazy sand-covered ground and Derek’s overly tanned skin. The desert was a hot son of a bitch, and he craved air conditioning and the winter months like never before. California winters weren’t “real winters,” but anything was cooler and more comfortable than this sand dune hell. His helmet was too heavy, the weight of it causing his neck to bend awkwardly. The strap dug into his stubble-covered chin, his clear glasses pressed too closely to his face, the lines too tight against his temples. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, the thumping practically felt outside of his body as his anxiety grew. The truck rocked and rolled across the path as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he waited for the pain. The voices of the others in the truck drowned out and away as he flew up, higher and higher before gravity took its course and pulled him harshly back down, his body landing awkwardly on the unpaved road. A scream comes across the sky as he falls, the sound mixing with the unstoppable ringing in his ears. A sudden moment of clarity washed over his pain-flushed mind as Derek realized the screaming was his own. The outside world was muted as his throat grew hoarse from the sound and the indescribable pain, his already hot body letting off a stench of charcoal and sulfur as his skin bubbled in the flames.
He heard it somehow, before he saw it, the low whistle replaced the ringing of his eardrums. It couldn’t be possible, a hallucination, maybe, a dream within a dream. Trying to roll and take cover, he stopped as he concluded that the point was moot as his body continued to protest his movements, a dry sob ripping harshly from his throat. Honey colored eyes comforted him with memories, flashes of a life once lived. It felt like so long ago, he’d seen those eyes, just another disappointment he didn’t want to think about. Not right now, not so close to the end. He’d accepted death with open arms, ready for her soft embrace. Derek had lived a good life, up until now. He could handle this, take it like fate had decided he should. As the whistle tone grew louder, his instincts fought to kill with the urge to give up and just accept for once in his damned life that he’d lost. He wasn’t going to win this battle, not like the ones that came before, no matter how much he craved to live just a few moments longer, just enough time to stop screaming. The high pitch got louder, closer, and closer, another roar ripping from his chest as he gave in to the inevitable.
The sound cut off on its own as Derek sat up in bed, his breaths heaving as he tried to focus on the environment around him, working to separate the two realities rapidly. For a second, he thought he heard two heart beats, two lives merging as one final thump-thump. His mind pieced together the rest of the nightmare for him, recalling that Boyd (or was it Lahey?) pulled him out of line of sight, stuffing a piece of something hard in his mouth to muffle his broken and choked out noises, radioing in to Reyes (or was it Argent?) back at base. He remembers the medical team, the sirens and the road, long and cracked and straining against his charred limbs, the stench of army hospital clogging his nose as he tried so hard just to breathe. The relationship between truth and memory was a messy one, so the memories, real and fake, overlapped together into a tangled mess of a single reality. His vision swam as his breaths once again labored, the familiar sense of panic settling deep within his bones once more.
He was alive, he remembered as he counted his breaths to himself, his heart was still beating, the muscle threatening to break out of its flesh and bone confines. A noisy police car passed by inconveniently, the sound of the siren making him jump, body rolling to the ground and cowering automatically in a corner for cover and escape from the noise. Derek looked up and around as it passed, naming colors and smells to ground himself back to this setting, to this life. Half of his mind was still there lost in the sand, disappearing into the desert, it’s warm and terrifying confines the only constant he could cling to while the other half, remained here, in Beacon Hills, listing the colors on the curtains Laura bought for him and his return. Confused and scared, he cried his dry tears silently, his large form curled into itself like a small child, mentally calling out for its mother in the dark. He hates feeling like this, so vulnerable, weak, dependent on others for the sake of his sanity. Derek never used to be like this, but part of his soul is still out there, somewhere, buried in the dunes under men who would never return.
While he was away, it was obvious that he missed home just like everyone else surrounding him on base. That was nothing special, not for a soldier. But when he was too homesick and racked with guilt, he didn’t think of his mother, his sisters, or honey-colored eyes, no, he thought of the nightlife in his small town. In his in-between state, it was brighter than the stars, and he missed the drunken adults stumbling in the streets, shouting into the night about god knows what as they ran from their problems down the neck of a cheap glass bottle. Of course, he missed his friends, his mother, and his sisters, but nothing compared to the mundane. When they were all younger, before Derek learned to fly, the three Hale siblings were close growing up as they aged. From small children playing tag to cover stories after sneaking off to a party in the middle of the night, they were practically inseparable, a trio of force that never turned their backs on each other. If one of them was in trouble, all of them were in trouble. It was a pact, a promise Derek threw to the side like it never even mattered in the first place.
Now, thought, they had all spread out, calling him every once in a while, but ultimately losing that deep connection they once possessed. It wasn’t their fault, not really. Derek blamed himself for leaving them, walking away during their most important high school and college years to travel half way around the world. It wasn’t as if what he was doing was unimportant, but he questioned sometimes if his sacrifice was really worth the loss in the end. Personal lives couldn’t exist, not really, not when everything was at stake the minute he signed up. Sometimes he regretted it, choosing one life over another and unable to see where they merged. He’d lost so much in the end, family being the most prominent in his mind. They were just kids then, but so was he. The girls were just starting their lives, still are in some ways, trying to make it up in the world. He failed them by leaving, no matter how heroic and brave they felt he was.
Derek was just a man; he couldn’t save the world on his own.
Derek’s family was good and wholesome, yes, but his friends radiated comfort and safety. He missed them like nothing else, longing for the days of schoolyard games and teenage drama to fill his mind with distractions from what was really going on, both in battlefield and in the rest of the world. They were an escape from the darkness of it all, even back then. Jackson, Scott, Stiles, all of the people he grew up with, he ached to see again. It was hard, now, adjusting to this world once again with no median or guide to ease the way for him. Feeling as if he’d just been tossed from an airplane with no parachute, everyday tasks were a struggle to get through. It didn’t help that he was insecure in ways he’d never been before, his body physically scarred from the trauma and emotionally scarred from the entire situation. He couldn’t keep people close, not when they could look into his eyes and see his jagged pieces not fitting quite right. Jackson and Scott were still around, however, they were busy with their own lives, growing and creating their futures while Derek will still chained to the past. He didn’t want to bother them with his useless problems, his inability to function properly. It was almost reluctant abandonment from them, and he felt Karma’s wrath upon him at the thought. They didn’t need that burden on their shoulders. The pair still called sometimes, when they could, which was every two weeks or so. It wasn’t as if they didn’t care, as if they wrote him off long ago as a story with an unhappy ending, but Derek let it roll off his back like he didn’t care either way. He felt he was better off alone, holed up in his apartment and away from the chaos and inevitability of the real world. Derek reminded himself, but Stiles, Stiles called every day.
The next morning, he was walking down the street, trying to shake off the remnants of last night’s panic as his eyes searched around the sidewalks for threats, an instinct that he didn’t think would ever disappear. He was home now, he should be elated, but all he felt was an overwhelming sense of foreboding dread and the phantom press of his old weapons against his hands, a weight he will never shake. This place, this apartment, this damned city didn’t feel at home anymore, no matter how many memories he cherished and held to his chest at night, or how many family members were located just past the edge of the forest. It was just another empty space he occupied, nothing to draw in and tether him here like before. The entire concept of home was an important one, since going without for so long. Alone, he felt like Eve without the Garden of Eden, floating endlessly in solitude.
Lost in his thoughts, headphones playing melodic music through the buds to block out the noise, he received a phone call. He looked down at the caller, seeing Scott’s name. Backing into an alley wall, he sighs to himself, he glanced around quickly as he tapped the green button on the screen.
“’Elo?” He said, keeping an eye on the man walking around the corner.
“Hey man, how are you doing?” Scott said, smile obvious in his voice as always.
“’M alright, how’re you?”
“You don’t sound alright, what’s up?”
Derek sighed through the phone, rubbing his eyes slightly from the lack of moisture. He didn’t know whether he should share, or keep his brooding to himself. Nervous of overwhelming Scott, he contemplated lying before immediately knocking that off the list. He always knew when he lied, phone between them or not. It didn’t used to be like this, not before. Scott and him were friends, of course, but they always argued over the littlest of things. Now, though, somehow, he understood Derek on a plane that no one else had. He treasured it, and knew he could tell him what was happening and someone would finally understand, but the guilt and tarnishing laid heavily on his mind as always.
“Derek?” He asked through the phone, tone curious and slightly alarmed.
“I-I just,” He groaned, “I feel so empty. This fucking apartment doesn’t feel like home anymore, and I can’t figure out why. My sister’s want nothing to do with me, not that I blame them, but they either ignore my existence or act as if I personally saved their lives. My mom, bless her, made me six fucking casseroles and I can’t eat them anymore or I will throw them up. I don’t feel like I have a purpose now, and I don’t know how to deal without one.”
Scott was quiet for a few moments, making him think the call dropped before checking the screen to see that they were still, in fact, connected. His nerves bubbled up, feelings of abandonment and isolation returned briefly before he stomped them back down, his mask sliding back into place. Scott’s sigh carried over the receiver before he chuckled slightly, gathering his words.
“First of all, you live next door to Tally’s, Hale, go get dinner there. They do takeout.”
Derek humphed, “You know your sister’s love you, they could never resent you or be shitty to you. You’re their hero, without the complex, they just don’t want to overwhelm you since you’re in a rough place. It’s all going to be okay, dude. They aren’t mad at you for leaving, since I know you’re thinking that. Always a fucking martyr.”
He groaned, mumbling an affirmative as he continued. Derek thought of saying something stupid, something jokingly sarcastic to get him to stop analyzing and helping him, but the words wouldn’t come. They never did, for Scott. They were like brother’s, and Derek needed that right now more than he could comprehend.
“For the home situation, man, I think you should take some time away from this place. Go stay with a friend and get away for a while, somewhere far away from here. Or, just travel. Either way, you won’t find what you’re looking for here, we both know that. The quiet will do you good, I promise.”
Derek was silent, taking in Scott’s words and rolling them over in his mind. There was a point to them, a good one, but he didn’t want to impose on anyone, especially when he was so useless nowadays. Just asking to stay seemed rude, inviting himself over for no particular benefit to the other person. His presence was an obvious disadvantage to his friend’s busy lifestyles. The idea of traveling was nice, until the reality of it sits in and he starts to panic, the idea making him anxious and out of routine. That will not be a good idea, not right now. Thinking for a bit, he listened to Scott’s breathing as an anchor for his wandering minds before he thought of Stiles once again.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “Maybe you’re right.”
Stiles.
Since Derek’s infamous and unexpected return, Stiles called every night before bed, no matter what either of them were doing that night, just to check in and repeatedly offering him solace in his cabin up north. He’d moved there about a year ago after a good sale on his latest book taking him to wonderful and high places. There weren’t any neighbors for miles, seclusion and quiet the main two selling points he’d listed when telling Derek about it animatedly over the phone a couple weeks ago. There was still work to be done on the property, since Stiles can’t because of his other obligations. It would be perfect for him, the mundane and repetitive work already starting to ease his thoughts. His mood had brightened that night from his enthusiasm, despite the pit creating in the center of his stomach at the mention of the distance between them both. Derek just wanted Stiles to be happy, whatever and whoever that entailed. Each call came with an offer of a room for Derek, however, he turned it down each time, opting to stay at his loft. Not that he was actively a danger to Stiles, but his nightly rituals of reoccurring terror and tears tended to evoke unsolicited violence and confusion, which made sense.
He’d seen some shit.
Not only could he be a danger to Stiles himself if he were to run in during a nightmare, but there was also Cassy, his daughter. She was six going-on thirty six, and she was the most beautiful girl in Stiles’ eyes. Derek adored her, obviously, the parts of Stiles shining through her even as a newborn, but he once again felt guilty for not being a larger part of her life. Although, he was there more than the poor girl’s mother, who left Stiles not long after the child was born. She was pregnant and giving birth before Derek’s first deployment, obviously not as excited and ready for this as her boyfriend was. Even though it wasn’t a sustainable relationship, Stiles was aware, he was still crushed after she walked away. At the time, Derek has stepped up to the plate, helping the soon-to-be father search for baby clothes and cribs, all the necessities the small girl would need after she finally joined him permanently. They both stood in the shopping aisles, cooing over small onesies and tiny little shoes, thinking of just how perfect she would be. It was almost domestic, almost right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place as they argued lightly over which colors to paint her room like the pregnant mothers weren’t trying to get to the formula behind them.
They went with green and purple.
When Cass was born, Derek had been whisked away barely a week later, unable to see her grow into the child she was today. It ate at his insides, wondering how she was and what she was like. It was a deep pit of longing in the forefront of his mind, begging to be unleashed as he thought about spoiling her and getting her whatever he tiny heart desired. One look into her honey-colored eyes, Derek was a goner for life. Either way, he was proud of his best friend, raising a kid and a growing career was not an easy nor dismissible task, but he did it with such grace and conviction it placed him in a state of wonder each time he thought about it. Maybe both of them could give him a sense of normalcy to hang onto.
“I’ll think of someone,” Derek replied, knowing he would ask him when they talked tonight.
Scott made a noise of surprise, “Good, dude, I worry about you. Let me know if you need anything, okay? Don’t be afraid to ask.”
“I will, man. Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
They said their goodbyes as Derek made the trek back to his apartment, contemplating whether or not he should call and ask now or wait until their regular talk this evening. His bones felt hyperactive, ready to move and get to a change of scenery right this very minute. He lifted up his right hand, shrugging his sleeve back and checking his watch for the time. It was about midafternoon, so he was certain Stiles was picking up Cassy from school right now. He could practically see it, her tiny hand in Stiles’ as they both looked both ways and waited to cross the street to hop into his old Jeep. The thought filled him with unexplainable warmth he hadn’t felt in so long, it was nearly foreign in his chest and mind. He smiled slightly to himself, unlocking the main door and pushing his way inside.
Deciding to wait on the call, he stopped to grab his mail before heading up to begin packing his things. He knew Stiles like the back of his hand, even after all these years apart, and was certain he wouldn’t say no to his surprise to stay with him. Besides, in the end, he’d offered before, even despite the constant rejection, so if anything it was his own fault. Maybe it was the blossoming father in him, but his loving and nurturing side was more obvious than before. His caretaker instincts sprouted as soon as Cassy popped out, only seeming to grow as time passed. That, or his hard-headed side was more delicate and lax than before, when things were normal between everyone. Derek admired than trait either way, something admirable he saw in Stiles all those years ago growing into what it is now was a sight to behold for young Derek before he deployed. Not long after he finished packing his things, as few as there were, his phone rang once more.
“Stiles.” He said, flipping the phone open.
“Derek,” a deep voice rang out, the clank of pots and pans following behind his greeting, “Hey.”
Derek’s stomach stirred at his voice, his brow furrowing as he glanced down, blinking a bit owlishly. He hadn’t felt that in years, the fluttering of his belly like something was stuck inside seemed almost juvenile now. Pushing it down, he cleared his throat.
“How are you doing, Der?” Stiles prompted again at the lack of response, frown evident in his voice.
“Not too good,” he croaked out finally, his focus still split between the odd feeling in his abdomen and the call. He forced the curiosity away again, focusing on the voice at the other end.
“What’s wrong, Sourwolf?” He questioned softly, humming into the phone as he continued with his nightly routine. The sound was so soothing, such a calm and gravitating noise for Derek.
“I-uh. Well.” He coughed, “I think I need a break, a change of scenery, I guess.” Stiles hummed in affirmation, waiting for him to continue, “So I was wondering if that offer to stay with you is still open? Just for a bit, if it is.”
“Oh my god, of course,” Smile evident in his voice, “Cass and I will have your room ready for you whenever you want. She’ll be so excited, she’d been waiting for you to say yes.When do you want to come up?”
Derek grunted, “Tomorrow, if it’s not too much trouble. I should have let you know before I packed my stuff, shit.”
“Der, it’s okay.” Stiles chuckled, “I almost always have your room ready to go, just have to get a few things out of the closet. Again, Cass will be ecstatic, she can’t wait to hang with you again.”
“She remembers me?” He questioned, voice soft.
“Of course she does. I show her pictures all the time, and tell stories. Most of her bedtime ones are tales of the stupid shit we did in high school. Child appropriate version, of course. She knows exactly who you are. I wouldn’t let her forget you.”
He hummed himself, trying to cover up the emotions that were surfacing, “Speaking of the little princess, where is she?”
“Oh, man, don’t let her hear you say that. She’s totally a Jedi, not a princess. Don’t even try it. She’s supposed to be washing up for dinner, but she’s being quiet. Almost too quiet. I should probably go check on her.”
“The last Jedi, got it. That’s fine, I should probably try to sleep anyway. I’ll be there around lunchtime, that okay?”
“Sounds perfect, man. We’ll both be home all day, so take your time on the roads.”
“Will do. See you tomorrow?” Derek smiled, a real smile, already feeling a fraction better than he did before.
“Definitely.” Stiles said, both of them getting their goodbyes out quickly before he had to go. It was almost scary, how quick Stiles can flip that switch inside of him, make him feel just a little bit more whole again. It had to be dark magic. Either way, the smile on Derek’s face couldn’t be wiped off, the happiness untouchable even in the confines of his night terrors.
The drive up to Stiles’ cabin was nostalgic for Derek, the scenery reminding him of trips he took with his family up north and to the east, little road vacations during the winter months or before school started. All the Hales piled into one car, the three siblings stuffed into the back were some of the best memories he possessed, holding the small trips near his heart. This solo trip reminded him of the one they’d taken to New Mexico, the route through Flagstaff was a spitting image of the one he was currently traveling. The plains and hills turned into wooded areas, the forest so massively thick compared to the one back home he couldn’t see through it. The greenery and the roads wound and went up while the temperature went down the closer he got to the northern border. The mountains surrounded him and the highway, enveloping him in a small cocoon of safety and comforting insignificance. Normally, Derek loathed feeling so powerless against the currents of fate, but after so long of trying to stop the inevitable and to be greater than the universe, just accepting how small he was in comparison was calming. It was nice, in a sense, to think about how little his decisions and movements meant to the rest of the world as a whole.
Derek used part of his last army cash bonus to pay off his rental contract and left before the sun was up, bringing with it the incoming morning rush. Leaving early enough that the sun was now finally peaking over the horizon so the headlights wouldn’t send him into an episode on the edge of a mountain, he gave himself a pat on the back. He was learning his triggers and what would or wouldn’t help if one were to happen. His old therapist would be proud. Derek was getting better by himself, but not enough that he felt okay enough to be alone in the city areas, or at all, really. Not that he needed a babysitter or a caretaker, but his quirks and issues had changed. He found no routine there, and for now, he just needed to find one and get back on his feet. Hopefully, Stiles would help with that. He always did give Derek a sense of comfort as children and later as teens, a feeling of safety and tranquility, like nothing could touch him if Stiles didn’t let it.
He drove carefully, happy that there were no other cars on the road yet. The back of his old Camaro was filled with his minimal amount of things, his entire apartment shoved into one box and cleaned out before he left. Stiles did offer a permanent stay for him, and he figured none of his friends had the time, nor the desire, to travel back for his items he could load the first time if he ended up staying for good. If not, he was used to being a drifter by now. He could do it again.
After an hour or five of driving, he pulled up into the driveway, looking out the windshield and onto the property Stiles owned. It was gorgeous, the cabin itself built at the foothills of the mountains, the grass covered in a blanket of snow that never seemed to end. It was infinite and startling all at once. He was in awe. The view was breath taking, something Derek figured he could get used to pretty quick. Leaning back and letting out a deep breath, he pressed his palm on the horn of the car obnoxiously, making everyone aware of his presence. He watched as the front door opened, Cassy and a large dog running out at full speed. Stiles was running after them both, hot on her heels with a hat in his hands as he tried to chase down his daughter. Finally catching up to her, Derek smirked lightly as he watched him shove the cap onto her head, rolling his eyes slightly. After he was satisfied with her little ears being covered, he put her back down, wrapping his arms around his torso for warmth and walking closer to the car. Derek turned off the engine and hopped out, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. The large dog, a tan pit bull, ran straight toward him and looped between his legs. The animal sniffed him before trying to take off running again, nearly tripping Derek in the process.
“Spock, what the hell,” He said, pointing at the dog, “Quit that, you’ll scare him off.”
Cassy giggled as the dog turned and ran circles around her now, his tail smacking against her legs in happiness. Derek smiled slightly at the sight, crouching down to her level to talk to her. She was a spitting image of Stiles, a bit of a shock to how much she’d grown. There were obvious things, of course, like her eyebrows that were thick and obviously her mother’s, but overall she looked more like Stiles than anyone else. It was always very real to him that his best friend was now a grown man with a child, but seeing it after so long, especially catching his first glimpse of him in dad-mode sent a tingle through his body.
Before he could question the feeling and it’s purpose, Cass opened her mouth.
“Hi Mr. Derek,” she said, giggling slightly, her toothless gap front and center making her lisp more prominent and adorable.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said in awe, “Just Derek is fine. How are you doing?”
“Okay, Derek. I’m okay. Daddy missed you. Can I go play now?”
Derek bit his lip, stifling a laugh before nodding slightly, making an affirmative motion with his hand.
Cassy ran toward the pile of snow by the side of the house, Spock following closely behind like a personal body guard. Derek watched as the pair rolled around in the snow, the pup keeping a close eye on his human companion as if his life depended on the task. He smiled softly, turning to Stiles and finding him already watching Derek with a curious and unreadable expression on his face. He watched him back, looking at the laugh lines around his mouth that probably matched his own, the slow curve of his nose, the freckles along his skin like focal points, the way his body had morphed and grown just like Derek’s had. Looking at him, he noticed how both of them had really aged over the years. It was nice, a welcomed fact in the face of the inevitable.
“She’s right, you know,” Stiles said, smiling softly at him. His eyes were practically in awe as he looked Derek over once more, obviously noticing how his muscles in his chest and arms were more noticeable than ever before, his body an alpha male stature like it never was in high school. He subtly glanced over Derek’s covered right arm, careful to avoid looking too long before looking at his face, watching as Derek grinned smugly.
“About what?” He asked, stepping closer.
“About me missing you.” Stiles looked down at the ground, shrugging. Derek continued stepping forward, the warmth of his body heat traveling in the space between their bodies and radiating into Stiles’ own shivering frame. He finally looked up, seeing him smiling down even bigger and closer than before.
“Is that right?” He said, arms coming up to wrap around Stiles, pulling him closer to his chest. His hands landed on his hips, pulling him flush against his body and forming into fists as he willed them both to stay like this, where no one was hurting and afraid. Where he wasn’t a wounded vet, where he was just Derek once again.
“Of course,” Stiles mumbled into his neck, shaking his head slightly, “I’m so fucking glad that you’re back.”
“Me too,” Derek whispered, squeezing him once before reluctantly letting go. The touch was almost romantic in nature, confusing him before he brushed it off, turning his attention to Stiles again.
“Hungry?” He asked, quirking a brow. Derek nodded, moving to the side of his car to grab his few boxes of things as he whistled, calling Cassy and Spock. They both perked their heads up, scrambling and running into the house.
Derek followed the three of them inside, observing the familiarity and domesticity between them all. It was as if they orbited around each other perfectly, a sign of habits and man moments falling in this exact same way. It wasn’t excluding however, as they always found a way to bring Derek into their gravity as they all moved about the living room. He placed his things down as they all migrated to the kitchen, Spock trotting along before collapsing on her bed in tiredness, his tongue popping out as he panted softly, a sort of smile taking over his face. Cass followed shortly behind him, climbing up the side of the kitchen chair and upon a phone book for an added boost.
He watched from the doorframe as Stiles gave Spock his food before giving Cassy hers, sitting next to both of them with his own. He then looked up at Derek softly, motioning with a flick of his eyes to the seat across from him before smiling invitingly. Derek nodded, sliding off his jack and right glover as he joined them all, hands going straight for the spoon next to his bowl. Easy conversation followed thereafter, Stiles obviously being careful to avoid confrontational questions as they talked about Derek’s family, his sisters, Scott, Deaton, anything they could think of.
Derek was grateful for that, so glad he wasn’t asking him about his time away like most people did, poking and prodding at the poor man until he gave up details he really didn’t care to share. The anxiety was still there, but was overcome with a sense of tranquility and pure happiness as he continued to speak.
After a bit of silence, however, Derek’s eyes started to droop, as did Cassy’s. Stiles laughed silently, stacking their bowls and heading to the sink.
“I think it’s time for the kids to take a nap,” Stiles smirked, winking at Derek as he glared at him.
“No,” they both said before Derek continued on, “I’m fine, really.”
“Me too, Daddy, I fine.”
Stiles leaned over, kissing her forehead lightly before ruffling her hair, telling her to go put a movie on, knowing he’ll fall asleep within the first ten minutes. Derek smirked as she scampered off to the living room, turning to Stiles and lifting a brow. He shrugged, taking a towel and wiping down Cassy’s mess.
“I think I’m going to take you up on that nap,” he grumbled, stretching his back out on the chair.
“Oh yeah, dude, whatever you need.”
Derek stood, walking back to the living room to grab his box, grunting as he picked it up and shoved it atop his shoulder. Wincing a bit, he adjusted the cardboard’s edge as Stiles subtly looked away, focusing on cleaning Cassy up. Derek made his way to the stairs before turning toward him again, looking fondly at the pair before clearing his throat.
“I’ll take the guest room,” he said, smiling genuinely again for the first time since his return. He hadn’t done that in so long, his face muscles ached from the amount of it today. It had to be some sort of record for him.
Cassy waved, saying goodbye before Stiles stopped him again, the box tumbling and nearly falling to the floor as he turned around, catching it in time. He scrunched his nose as Cass giggled, watching as Stiles gestured up the stairs. She composed herself quickly, nodding once at her father before running around them both and disappearing upstairs, calling for Derek to follow her.
Stiles laughed at the both of you, arms crossed, as she ran back down and grabbed his left arm, careful to avoid the left, pulling him gently up the stairs and into the bedroom across from her own. Cassy let go of him as her dad walked to the top, leisure and less frantic than the other two. Opening the door quickly, she ushered him inside and stood in the middle, throwing her hands up in a grand display. When Stiles entered, Derek’s things were already laying in a heap on the floor as he looked around, trailing his fingers along the walls and frames lining them.
“Do you like it, Derek?” Cass asked, tugging gently on his pant leg.
The lump in Derek’s throat was cleared quickly, unable to show his emotions and just cry in fear of frightening her and Stiles both. He nodded softly at her instead, words getting stuck in his throat as he patted her softly on the head, brushing her hair out of her face. Turning, he tried to compose himself, posing it as taking off his coat once more. He hung it graciously on the hook placed on the wall, admiring the pictures along the paint, the frames surrounding the wooden cut-out letters than formed his name.
There were photos of them as kids, looking ridiculous in the California sun as it shined in their toothless faces, pictures of them in their lacrosse jerseys at the homecoming game. Pictures of his sisters, his mother, his grandparents, uncles, and aunts all lined the walls and strategically placed around the room like a collage. Shots of Beacon Hills over the years were scattered about as well, the town never too far out of reach. It filled his heart with more comfort than he felt before, something he didn’t think he could feel, knowing Stiles did all of this for him. He glanced by the bed, seeing the side tables as bookshelves lined with what he guessed were his favorite novels, making a mental note to scope those out later. The trunk at the end of the bed, a dark oak, was topped with a picture of Derek and Stiles looking at a baby Cassy, cradled softly in Derek’s arms as Stiles stood by and watched them both, a soft smile on his face.
“Sorry about her, she was just so excited to show you your room.” Stiles said, pulling Cassy closer to him.
“My room?” Derek croaked, blinking.
“Yeah, man. We had this room set aside and ready since we moved in. We’ve worked on it a bit over the years, getting little things here and there. It’s been a work in progress for a bit. But it turned out okay, at least, to me it did. We probably have completely different tastes now, but I mean, I don’t know, I just thought,”
“Stiles, it’s amazing,” Derek whispered, hand hesitantly reaching up to grasp his shoulder softly and squeeze. Stiles looked down at him shyly, smiling to himself.
“I think Derek likes it, Cass.” He brushed the little girl’s hair out of her face, “We did good, right baby?”
“Right, daddy!” She smiled, running over to hug Derek’s legs and squeezing, before pulling back quickly, worried about touching him. Stiles laughed softly at her, shaking his head fondly.
Both of them got up, ready to leave Derek to his own devices before Cassy yawned, obviously ready for her nap. Stiles picked her up expertly, balancing the girl on his hip like a professional before turning back, smiling at Derek.
“I’m going to go lay her down, but let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Derek nodded quickly, watching as they both walked out the door. His heart beat steadily in his chest, another wave of warmth and almost uneasiness floated through his chest and his stomach as the door shut, leaving him alone once again.
The next couple of days passed much the same way, Derek’s anxiety running wild before nearly vanishing, as he grew more comfortable around them both. Neither of them seemed to hold his absence against him, although he took care of that all on his own. His nightmares had calmed slightly as he became familiar and settled in his new routine. On the nights he did have them, which was often, both Stiles and Cassy never brought up his screams that he just knew echoed around the house all through the night.
He knew Stiles, though, knew he wanted to help and nurture like he’d done when they were kids, but he thanked whatever luck and grace he owned that he didn’t. Derek was happy to avoid that conversation, the nightmares and helpfulness seemed to settle between the trio on their own, though his mind always whispered vicious words of disturbance and inconvenience. He ignored them as much as he could, his comfort was his crutch, and he was happy he took Scott’s advice.
Cassy and Stiles had both been just so, so incredible since he’d gotten there. Stiles stayed close, but kept enough distance to not overwhelm him. He was a professional at the subject, making sure to confirm that Derek was wanted there while not getting in his space. The small girl followed her father’s example every time, making sure not to hover or stray too far away. Neither were too far away, making sure to include him in their orbit. It was a delicate balance, he himself having trouble finding it, but they both took to it like they were born for the position. It was perfect, and he couldn’t have asked for anything better.
But nothing lasts forever, no matter how much one wants it to. Derek figures he forgot about that, with the warm welcome and the sense of belonging that surrounded the small family. Stiles returned to work a week later, though, and Cassy followed with her little backpack strapped across her chest and ready for the school week. Being alone was what Derek was used to, what he was accustomed to in Beacon Hills. He felt so at home here before, and didn’t quite understand why he wasn’t feeling that same comfortable and warm feeling now. Being alone was never a truly bad thing for him, considering he usually preferred it. Now, it just seemed like a different story.
Derek’s eyes widened as he put it all together. The feeling of safety, the tranquility, the reason he’d never felt at home anywhere near Beacon Hills, including his own house, until he’d gotten here. His house was just that, a house, just another place to lay his head. But Stiles, Stiles was his home. He was the only person, living or dead, who Derek could travel the world with, could go anywhere on the planet and still feel the comfort and warmth of home, like he was on the couch, wrapped up in blankets of happiness and love.
Stiles was, and always had been, his home. When Derek was younger, he was always there. Beacon Hills was his place going up, but he made it somewhere fun, somewhere he could see himself forever. Derek had built a house in Stiles’ ribcage at such a young age, settling deep within the bones like a lounge chair so long ago he didn’t even notice. He always found a way to make sure Derek was comfortable, regardless of the situation, and now it was just amplified. Hell, Stiles had even found the one bed that was so hard he could actually sleep for once, reminding him of the desert floor he’d called a room for so long.
Derek runs over memories that felt warm in his head and his heart, seeing Stiles in every single one. The pair were like two peas in a pod, Scott, Jackson, and their other friends falling close behind every time. He doesn’t remember a time where he wasn’t aware of his presence, like a planet to the sun, constantly just close by. He ran over what this meant, the different reasons filtering through his mind. Dense, as always, found none. Stiles’ voice rang out over his thoughts, the door shutting behind him as he finally arrived home.
“Der? Can you come down for a minute?” His heart skipping a beat at the sound, the heat and fluttering returned once again and settling deep in his soul.
Derek was in love with Stiles.
He suffocated the thought immediately, scoffing to himself. He plucked that stupid sentence from the front of his mind and threw it to the back, practically tossing it in the file cabinet of things he refused to think about again. It was filled with forbidden thoughts, mostly about Stiles, that he wouldn’t entertain for a moment longer. Stiles was his best friend, someone who was giving him shelter and practically putting him back together again. It was like some White Knight syndrome, and he refused to that to him.
He shouted back, “One second!” before heading downstairs, finding Stiles sitting on the couch. He looked nervous; his hands wrung together, thumbs twiddling anxiously in his lap. Derek had noticed the mood shift over the past couple days, figuring his presence may be the cause, like he had overstayed his welcome. His stomach swooped once again as he saw Stiles’ work uniform, knowing he still picked up shifts at the local station despite the payout from his novels. The navy fabric hugged tight against his biceps, his eyes vibrant and face looking as beautiful as ever from the color, sending his heart into overdrive like a teenager with a crush. Once again, he stomped that down and away before trying to focus on what Stiles was saying.
“So… I have a question, but feel free to say no and not do it. I know things are still adjusting and you’re still trying to get comfortable here, and I don’t want to pressure you to do anything,”
“Stiles,” Derek said, smirking fondly, “Just tell me.”
“Uh, well. How would you feel about a welcome-home party?”
The question stumped him, the immediate thought of a frat-like party filled his thoughts with the smell of alcohol and the sounds of ping pong balls clonking on a table.
“I was thinking just Jackson, Lydia, Scott, maybe your parents. I wasn’t sure if you wanted-“
“Yes. Yeah, that sounds good.”
Stiles watched him for a moment, probably looking for any sense of hesitation. When, apparently, he didn’t see any, he nodded and smiled slightly before slowly making his way closer and closer. He stopped right in front of Derek, looking up at him softly before opening his arms a bit. Derek, being a good sport, rolled his eyes and smiled, stepping into Stiles’ arms easily, like breathing.
“Okay,” he sighed, “This will be great.”
Derek squeezed him slightly in response, letting him go with a bit of difficulty before watching him turn and head to his office, probably to make phone calls and plan, stopping occasionally to write something down on his desk calendar. Watching unnoticed, Derek saw him walk back and forth on the phone, arms gesturing wildly as he explained what was going on. It felt domestic, almost right, in the sense of where he was supposed to be. This felt good. Smiling as they both made eye contact, Stiles grinned back, making a face. He laughed silently, moving to clean his messes before Cassy got home. He picked up extra chores around the house for the next couple of days as Stiles tried to get everything ready for the get together. He was frazzled the entire time, running about and trying to make everything look as presentable as possible. Even after high school and a small child, Stiles never really did get the concept of cleanliness. He found it endearing, the mess he was left to tidy far from his mind as he thought of all the effort Stiles put into this small thing just for him.
Not having a party for anything since high school, Derek was a little nervous. His last party was his sixteenth birthday, where nothing went right and everything went absolutely wrong. His mother had tried her hardest, and he appreciated her for it, but somethings just don’t work out. He hoped this wouldn’t be the same way, just a new moment to make memories, good ones, out of. When the day of the party came, he honestly expected streamers, a big cake, maybe some noise makers. It wasn’t his birthday, sure, but Stiles had Lydia for a friend, and he knew they both liked to go all out. Derek really did expect a huge blowout, considering all the stress Stiles put himself through for this for the past week and a half. The Saturday of, he sent Derek and Cassy upstairs to watch movies while he settled stuff around. The secrecy of it didn’t ease his nerves at all, only adding to the slight anxiety of what was to come.
Derek hated not knowing things.
Stiles returned that evening, smiling nervously as he escorted them both downstairs. When he descended, he was slightly surprised to find no streamers, no ping-pong tables or alcohol. His mother, bless her, was sitting on the couch when a can of diet soda like always, watching the television while Jackson, Lydia, and Scott all gathered around the fireplace, watching as Derek came down the stairs. It wasn’t flashy, or too much, it was perfect for him. The calm atmosphere eased his nerves tremendously, even surrounded by so many people at once.
He continued, waiting for the waves of family and friends to embrace him, but Stiles, obviously, had gotten to them before he did, as they maintained their distance. They stayed in their spots, smiling at him from their places before continuing with what they were doing, just saying hi and moving on. All of them kept their space, something he was incredibly surprised to see. It was almost overwhelming with the understanding he felt in the room with him in that moment. He very nearly wanted to cry. Slowly, he made his way to one by one.
“Hey man,” Scott said, smirking as the pair side-hugged, “I knew you’d pick Stiles’ house.”
Derek rolled his eyes, mumbling for him to shut up as he moved toward Lydia, who was hanging on to her girlfriend, Malia, a woman he hadn’t seen since high school graduation.
“Hey, Derek,” She said lowly, giving him a one armed hug, hand still on Malia’s arm, “I’m glad you’re back and safe.”
“Me too, man,” Malia said, lifting her beer and nodding once. Derek did the same before pressing a light and friendly kiss to Lydia’s cheek, watching them look at each other. He smiled softly, moving to Jackson, who embraced him heartily. He remembered a time when this never would have happened, Jackson’s past wound him up tight before his summer trip to Europe between their junior and senior years, something loosening within the boy and letting him fully embrace himself. Derek was happy for him then, and happy for him now, only wishing he, too, could feel that freeness.
“My man,” Jackson said, pulling him back to look at him, hands on each of his shoulders, “I missed you. How’re you liking the mountains?”
“They’re alright,” Derek grinned, clasping him on the shoulder lovingly, “How’s Seattle treating you?”
“It’s good, you know how it is.” Jackson winked at him, nodding his head toward the woman off to the side.
“Mom,” Derek croaked, watching Talia’s eyes tear up softly as she noticed how much better he was doing since coming here. She wiped her eyes subtly before winking at him, making grabby hands with her fingers. He moved closer as she finished talking to Cassy, who was giving a very detailed account of the aquarium and the sharks there. Grabbing his face in her hands, his eyes rolled as she moved his face from side to side. Scoffing at each other, their arms wrapped around and held tightly to one another, like either one could disappear in the blink of an eye.
“My boy.” Talia cleared her throat as she pulled back, looking at him steadily before nodding once and patting him on the cheek, moving her attention back to Cassy.
He turned his head, seeing Stiles there at the edge, watching him with worried and anxious eyes. Derek smiled and winked at him softly, moving closer to the corner he occupied. His arm lifted, Stiles’ body automatically moving closer to his. He moved closer to his chest, wrapping his own around Derek’s waist as he watched Cass and Talia for a bit longer, finally looking back up.
“This okay?” Stiles asked.
“This is great, perfect.” Derek leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his hair line. His eyes closed at the contact, missing the lingering looks from the other party-goers. Derek pulled back slightly, Stiles’ head resting on his shoulder with closed eyes. Glancing down, his heart constricted in his chest, body tensing as he thought of kissing him, holding him closer to his body at all hours he could get away with. He thought of watching him sleep, soft snores falling from his lips as they lay in bed together and panicked. Derek pulled back, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder.
He smiled tightly down at Stiles, “I’m going to step out for a bit, okay?”
Stiles frowned, nodding slightly. He turned abruptly, walking to the sliding door, out, and shutting it behind him quickly. Walking over towards the chairs, he inhaled the cold air, feeling it bite at his lungs before sitting down. He grunted as his thighs hit the cold hard metal, looking towards the sky. Derek shouldn’t have run off like that, shouldn’t have left Stiles there thinking he’d done something wrong. It was shitty of him, he’ll admit, and the guilt stirred up again, starting to gnaw at his core. Stiles probably thought the party wasn’t good enough, that he wasn’t good enough, no matter how much he tried for him. He’d never wanted him to think that, but the way he just molded against Derek’s side like he was meant to be there, the way he smelled and felt against him, it was too much for his heart to take.
His thoughts were interrupted as the sliding glass door opened and shut again, Lydia coming out. She rubbed her hands against her denim covered thighs, plopping down gracefully to sit next to him.
“You seem off, everything okay?” She asked, bumping shoulders with him.
Derek scoffed, shaking his head, “No, I’m good, really.”
She looked at him, lips pursed for a while, “Yeah, that’s not true. So, you can either tell me what’s up, or I can get your boyfriend out here and he’ll worm it out of you, once way or another.”
“Okay, one,” Derek starts, irritable, “He isn’t my boyfriend. Two, don’t talk bad about his ability to do that, it’s what’s gotten me through the past couple of months and I’m grateful, so I don’t need that negativity. Neither does Stiles.”
Lydia held up her hands in surrender, but signaled for Derek to keep talking, waving her hand at him encouragingly. They both moved over in their chairs, getting more comfortable and looking out onto the property for a bit. The edge was covered in trees, reminding Derek of his mother’s house on the Preserve. It was an immediate comfort for him as he thought of her and the courage she showed throughout her life. Deciding to harness that same courage to finally talk about his minimal issues, he spoke.
“I’m such an idiot.” He said, taking a swing of his beer.
Lydia’s eyebrow arched, cocking her head slightly, “What’d you do now?”
Derek was silent again, rolling his words over in his head. He didn’t want to say it out loud, making it real and unable to take back. The feelings were already eating away at his conscious, plaguing every thought and aspect of his life now. He’d never done this before, not really. Before the army, sure, he’d thought he was in love. He’d had significant others before, but none of them felt like this. They didn’t awaken such a deep ache in his bones to be close to them, they didn’t give him such a sense of happiness, or longing for things he’d never had. Like children, for instance. He didn’t necessarily think about it before or during his army years, not with his life on the line like it had been for so long. But with Stiles, with Cassy, it felt so right. It felt like the warmth of hot coffee on a cold morning, a sense of peace settling in his bones right from the start. It was a terrifying wave of unexplored emotions, and he was scared of drowning under the current.
“I made the mistake of falling in love with my best friend,” he whispered finally, eyes closed in concentration.
Lydia cleared her throat slightly, nodding her head and sitting up straighter. Silent for a few moments, she mulled it over in her head. She had to have known, had to have some idea before he even thought of it himself. She knew everything, and everyone better than they did themselves. It was like a gift for her and a curse for the rest of the world.
“Well, first of all, I wouldn’t refer to it as a mistake when you tell him, people don’t tend to enjoy hearing that.”
“I’m not telling anyone anything,” Derek scoffed, “Plus you both dated, I’m not going to do that to either of you.”
Lydia laughed lightly, her head tilted up as she shook her head. It startled Derek a little bit, making him nervous and his palms slightly damp, “We were children, Derek. Literally. I’ve moved on, and so has he. Multiple times a piece. Neither one of us has any plans of getting back together, nor do we have residual feelings. We’re friends, and that’s all.”
Derek shook his head slightly, eyes looking down as his fingers fiddled with the paper label on the bottle. His gloved hand caught on the corner, the tip getting caught in the worn ridges. Sighing, he knew the real reason he couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t Lyds, or Cassy, or any other useless excuse. It was all because of him. He was to blame. Derek was damaged, worn and scarred from years of seeing things he never wanted to see. Stiles deserved the world handed to him on a silver platter, Cass too, all of their wildest dreams to somehow come true. He couldn’t do that for either of them, that was never in the cards for this life. The more he thought about it, the more he was suddenly uncomfortable in his skin, still tortured from the flame as he grew hotter and hotter. His breathing picked up, his mind clouding over slightly as he started to dwell on things he couldn’t control.
Stiles wouldn’t want him anymore, not that he ever did in the first place. How could he want someone so ruined, so broken, in his bed? How could he ever want someone like this around his daughter? Derek used to be so put together, so happy and content with who he was before. That was the partner he deserved. Stiles needed someone who would hold him tight when he got sad about his mother’s anniversary, someone to argue with over what milk to buy and not worry about inducing a panic attack, someone who would take his daughter to school and help her with science projects, not having to worry about to minimal blasting sound from an artificial volcano throwing him into an episode. He would never be able to sleep soundly next to Stiles without waking him up with a choked off scream, he would never be able to play hide and seek with Cass or have surprise breakfast in bed on their anniversary. He would never be able to have those cherished memories with either of them. Was it worth the pain that caused?
“He deserves someone better,” Derek choked out, hands dropping his beer bottle on the patio and pulling at the collar of his shirt. The smell of charcoal and sulfur filled his nose as his skin over heated, the popping of the bubbles and the whistling was too much as he cried out slightly, careful to be quiet for Stiles before a cool hand touched his shoulder.
“I need you to open your eyes and focus for me, Derek,” It was Lydia. Why was she out here? She didn’t need to be out witnessing this, lost and alone like himself, “I need you to find things for me, yeah?”
Derek nodded through the pain, eyes opening slowly. The world was still hazy as he tried to focus on the reality he was currently in. He counted the panels on the roof, noticing the colors and the design as his heart rate calmed down, his breathing heavy as it returned to normal. Lydia noticed this, patting him lightly on the shoulder before returning to her spot next to him.
“You know, you had this same freak out when we were all fifteen and drunk on your aunt’s liquor,” she said, “I said it then and I’ll say it now. There’s no one better for him than you. You have to quit putting him on a pedestal. You’re not the only slightly bent person around here.”
Derek nodded, watching as Lydia motioned over toward the window, seeing his mother and sister’s backs to the window as Stiles and Cass distracted them with something cute she was doing that needed an audience, adorable and childlike. He glanced back at him then, and Derek knew. It was on purpose, and for him. Stiles smiled slightly, watching his wide eyes as he struggled to smile back. He watched as him turned back around, offering his mom a refill before disappearing. He questioned it before, but now, it was certain.
Derek was definitely in love with Stiles.
Nothing works the way it should, however, so his revelation wasn’t followed by some huge declaration of love and a flash mob. He crawled into himself, turning the thoughts over and over in his mind, trying to make sense of what was happening. A couple days after the party, Derek started ignoring Stiles as much as he could. Thinking he was protecting Stiles, he tried not to be rude, so he still spoke to him when he needed to, but running from his feelings in a partially isolated cabin with the one person he had those feelings for was turning out to be very difficult. He mostly focused his attention on Cassy, trying to ease the guilt in his mind. He continued doing his part in helping around the house, assisting Cass on her homework as much as he could before sneaking off every time Stiles came in to check on them. The nature of the three’s home felt off, the gravity slightly shaky between all of them as he continued ignoring his best friend. Weeks went by to no avail. He’d been trying so hard to still come off as grateful, he just needed time to sort through these complex emotions.
He’d never really been in love before. Everyone, everything else before this was just a lie, some kind of puppy love. Nothing was real after, maybe even before, Stiles.
Today, Stiles was in his office, doing some last minute editing on a piece about endangered animals when Derek took it upon himself to begin dinner. He still hadn’t cooked a real meal since returning home, deciding to start back with something simple. Spaghetti was Cassy’s favorite, as both of them knew so well, and he loved watching Stiles cook it normally. Since he wasn’t around yet, Derek brought her and her homework to the island, keeping an eye on Cass while he made the sauce. After a bit, she got bored, her hands smacking on the table as he tried to get Derek’s attention. Spock’s ears perked up as she attempted horribly at whistling to himself, finally deciding to get Derek’s attention directly.
“Hey papa?” Cass asked, her gaze sat on him.
“Yeah, munchkin?” Derek asked, tilting his head to look at her, freezing slightly as he realized what Cass just called him.
“I’m bored,” she said, collapsing dramatically on the counter, “Can I go play?”
Derek, who was still mostly frozen, grasped the spoon even tighter as he tried to think of something to say. His mind was clouded papa, papa, papa as he continued stirring what was in the pot. He nodded as he finally regained his movements, mumbling a yes as Cassy took off to go play in her room.
“Wait!” Derek called, remembering where he was. “You should probably ask your daddy first, just in case.”
He winked at Cass before turning back, trying to act as normal as possible as he heard Stiles’ footsteps coming down the hall. Knowing he heard nothing, he sighed shakily and continued baking.
“Dad!” Cass cried out, running toward him and wrapping her arms around his legs, “Papa said I can go play, is that okay?”
Stiles’ eyes widened slightly, staring at Cassy in shock and almost embarrassment, before plastering a less-petrified smile on his face. His hand came down from his shoulder, brushing her hair out of her eyes.
“Why don’t you go wash your hands before dinner, yes? You can play after we eat.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, laughing lightly as she groaned before running off to the bathroom.
His arms were crossed as he watched Derek, handing him spices from the rack as they both tried to recover from what just happened. Silence followed them from the kitchen to the table, Cassy’s voice and Stiles’ occasional murmurs of response were the only sounds made during dinner. As all of them finished, Stiles told Cassy to go play as he cleaned up the table as quick as he could, moving back to his seat.
"Why do you do that?" Derek asked quietly.
"Do what?"
“That,” he said, nodding his head toward where Cassy was, the entire situation making dinner stilted and awkward, “You’re constantly deflecting things, and acting like certain stuff isn't a big deal. I know you, Stiles, you're not this calm. You've never been this calm and collected. If it's parenting, fine, I get it, but if it's not? Something's wrong."
Stiles was quiet for a moment, looking at him with an unreadable expression. He was growing anxious as he stared, worried that it had something to do with him. Maybe he was frightened of something he had done, or Stiles was closing himself off to Derek. The guilt was starting to eat him, his mind racing over things he had and hadn't done.
“I’m worried about you, and I don't want to overwhelm you. Raising Cassy,” Stiles whispered, sighing “I don’t know what I expected with raising a child by myself but this wasn't it. When mom died, I was a kid, I was never thinking of how I would raise a child, let alone a girl. Dad's gone too now, so I can't ask him things either. It's like I'm going at this blind, and I'm so terrified of fucking up my kid. And making you upset when you're here, too. There's like a million things at once, and I'm trying to balance it all and my emotions. It's just a lot, you know?”
His heart lurched as he listened, completely understanding. Derek's father wasn't around much, and he knew how much trouble he caused for his single mother, especially as the only boy in the house. “I do,” He whispered back, opening his arms, "But you don't have to be alone in that, you can always lean on me for stuff. I practically raised my sister's, so I know some things about being a girl."
Stiles walked into Derek's arms, settling in next to him like he always belonged there. As the silence folded over between them both, Derek thought of how Stiles shared his issues but he shared none of his own. That didn't seem fair, but he wasn't ready. He didn't think he would ever be ready to tell the story, too many visions of people lost and lives ruined plagued his mind when he even suggested bringing it up to himself. Unable to share his worst nightmare, he figured he'd have to say something.
“I think, sometimes, you're the only one I can talk to about this stuff,” Derek whispered, "You'll get the full story out of me someday, I promise, but now isn't that time. I don't know when it will be, and I know I ask a lot of you already, but please be patient with me. I'll tell you if something is wrong or upsetting. I promise."
The words brought a low whine out of Stiles, the sound getting caught in his throat before cracking. His nose burned as he tried not to cry, Derek watching patiently as Stiles tried to catch his breath once more. The pitter-patter of feet brought him slightly out of Derek’s arms. Cassy stood in the doorway, her lips in a small pout.
“Papa, why is daddy crying?”
Derek paused for a moment, “Daddy’s just sad, sweetheart. Sometimes people just feel sad, yeah? Why don’t you come give him a big hug to help?”
Cass nodded, running up to them both and wrapping her arms around Stiles’ back. He smiled against Derek’s chest, turning in his arms and pulling his daughter closer into their embrace. She settled against their chests, caught between Derek and Stiles perfectly. Like a family. Derek’s heart ached as he held them both, wanting nothing more than to be a real part in this, to be more than he was. It was selfish of him, wanting this to himself constantly. But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t help the longing for a family that was his own. It wasn’t always the end goal for him, even from a young age he knew he didn’t want to be a father. But now, that had changed and so had he.
It just wasn’t meant to be, he guessed.
Stiles pulled back suddenly, brushing the hair out of her face. He kissed her forehead gently, making eye contact with Derek over his head. He smiled at Stiles softly, his eyes closing momentarily before pulling back, looking down at her.
“Why don’t you get your jammies on, and I’ll read you a story before bed?”
She nodded, kissing his cheek and Derek’s before running off upstairs.
He turned to Derek, clearing his throat slightly before looking at him through his lashes, “Thank you. For trusting me with that, I guess. You don’t have to, you never have to. But I think it will help, eventually.”
“You’re the only one. So, anytime, I mean that.” Stiles nodded before opening his mouth once more and closing it again. He looked to be contemplating his thoughts for a moment, deciding against whatever it was as he turned around abruptly and walked away.
Derek watched him practically zoom into the other room, thinking over the back dad situation. He’d never seen himself as someone’s father figure before, besides his sisters when they were young. They’d been so reckless, they put him off children for years. But Cass, she was different, she was charismatic and joyful. She was a miniature Stiles, a piece of him that Derek had always secretly loved as his own. That thought was locked in the same Things Never to Think About Again box he kept in the back of his mind, the thought of dying before really meeting the child he wished was his was too difficult to think about. Thus it was thrown away, never to be thought of again. Until now, that is. He recalled Stiles’ face, noticing the petrified look in his eyes when Cass said it. Maybe Stiles didn’t want her to do that, want Derek in their lives like that at all. It was a big jumbled mess he couldn’t control, and he was growing tired. He grabbed a glass, pouring his drink and heading out to the porch.
Upstairs, Stiles shut the door quietly, careful not to wake Cass before heading to the kitchen. Before entering, he glanced out of the large back windows, noticing Derek sitting on the deck. He was shirtless, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he looked out onto the snowy property. Stiles sighed before muttering to himself, knowing he was definitely cold. Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch, he took a deep breath before opening the door. Derek had known he was coming as he tossed his shirt over his head, covering the raised and scarred skin.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Stiles said as Derek pulled his shirt the rest of the way down, covering his arm. He tossed the blanket to him quickly, watching as Derek covered his slightly shivering body with it.
“I do,” he said, “No one wants to see that ugly shit.”
“Derek,” Stiles scolded, “It’s not ugly. Nothing on you could ever be ugly.”
Derek scoffed slightly, shaking his head before looking back out onto the property. A lot of things about him were ugly now, the scars on his body weren’t even the worst of it. The silence dragged on for a bit, the both of them sitting in an almost uncomfortable silence.
“I’m sorry about the ‘dad’ thing, I can have her stop if you want.”
He looked at Stiles oddly before facing back toward the forest behind his house, “It sounds like you’ve dealt with this before.”
“Oh, kind of,” Stiles laughed tensely, sounding strained and anxious, “She got it into her head a bit ago that you were his other dad. At school, I guess, this boy’s parents are two women so Cass told everyone she had two dad’s too, but one of them was out protecting her from the First Order while she completes Jedi training. I tried to tell her differently, but she still wanted it to be you. It just stuck, I guess.”
“Do you have a problem with it?” Derek asked quietly, watching him from the corner of his eye.
“Do you?” Stiles shot back.
He was silent as Stiles watched him, the tension rolling off of him in waves. It covered both of them in a blanket, causing Stiles to wrap his arms around himself once again.
“I hate it when you do that,” Derek whispered into the night.
“I know,” Stiles whispered back, “I just can’t help it. You’re not the only broken one around here. I get defensive and awkward with emotions, you know that. I get scared and anxious too, and I know yours is probably worse and I’m not trying to erase that, but, just, don’t forget about me too.”
“I want to be that safe space for you, like you are for me,” he shook his head at himself, “But I can’t be that. Not anymore.”
“Says who?” Stiles moved closer to him, pulling the blanket over his legs as well. Derek pulled him closer to his side, tucking him under his arm comfortably and giving him more of the blanket.
“Says me, that’s who.” Stiles scowled at his profile, waiting for him to look down. Derek sighed, feeling the eyes on him and turning to look, lifting a brow in question. Stiles was stern, yet gentle, “You have no right to choose what is right or wrong for me, only I can do that. If I thought you were as awful as you think you are, I wouldn’t let you around my child.”
“I know,” he whispered, eyes not leaving his as his hand lifted, brushing a piece of hair out of his face.
“Then don’t try to.” Stiles leaned forward, resting their foreheads together. Their noses brushed intimately, Derek listening as he continued to whisper, “I don’t have a problem with it. I know you need your space. But why have you been ignoring me?”
He sighed out, their breaths mingling, “I’m so torn, over all of this, over you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I… am in awe of you. The person you were before, and the person you are now, I love them both. I’m so in love with them both. I want to be that crutch for you, for Cassy. I want to be her dad, always. But I can’t be.”
Stiles chuckled into the air between them, rolling his head from side to side, foreheads still connected, “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Hey,” he whined, “what’d I do?”
Stiles pulled back a little bit and smacked his arm with his left hand, the right coming up to clench his shirt in a tight grip, “I’ve been in love with you since I hit puberty, dumbass. It’s always been you for me. I was just waiting for you to get with the program. Fuck, we’ve been practically married for months. No sex and everything, we’re really up there in domestication.”
His laughed as his hand came up to cradle Derek’s jaw, pulling him closer and slotting their mouths together.
Derek’s heart practically burst in his chest, another piece of the puzzle sliding together in harmony. It wasn’t perfect, not yet, but it was one thing Derek had done right since his return, something he almost managed to fuck up, but didn’t. It felt good, like a sure thing. Of course, both of them were still broken, but they had each other as motivators to make it through. They had a daughter to take care of, the glue to hold them both together in this happiness if things ever got rough. All along, he was just wrong. There wasn’t a place he needed to be or a task he needed to complete to feel normal again, because normality was relative. Neither one of them would be sixteen again, their attitudes and experiences with and away from each other were enough proof of that. But, as long as Derek had a support system he trusted, could confide in, and a shoulder to lean on, he knew, unquestioningly in this moment, that he would be alright. Because this? This was his Eden, his promise land.
This was home.