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4 October 2024
The dark sky looks bright tonight. Stiles knows it’s almost the full moon. It’s something you won’t miss when you have a kid that is a werewolf. Claudia is more active around this time of the month. Dad always says she reminds him of Stiles when he was that age. Only Stiles was like that all the time. He really has gained a lot of respect for his parents now that he has a little one of his own. Well, two little ones by now.
Stiles has quickly popped out of the house to buy some diapers at the 24-hour store. Those things seem to disappear like magic. Stiles suspects that Claudia makes them disappear on purpose. She’s been a naughty girl as of late. Having to share the attention of her dads with a little sister is new and she will need some time to get used to it.
He walks slowly towards the car, puts his groceries in the back and steps inside. Music starts playing as soon as he starts the engine. He sings along with the kids’ songs he knows by heart by now. Claudia was singing this one only moments before she went to bed tonight. Before Derek read to her out of the giant fairytale book. It warms Stiles on the inside. Derek is so good at reading stories. He always knows which voices to make, where to place dramatic sound effects. Stiles wishes he was home already, so he can show Derek just how endearing it is.
The trees of the forest pass by, while Stiles drives. It’s something he likes to do, driving around at night when the town is quiet and peaceful. They didn’t have any scary monsters or ready to kill hunters passing by in years. Nothing since the witches with their dragon. Maybe it’s the silence for the storm, but that doesn’t mean the pack can’t enjoy it. It had been a time for everyone to concentrate on their families, getting married, having kids, find jobs they like and actually have the time to show up at work.
Stiles gasps when two headlights appear out of nowhere on the passenger side of his car. Metal crunches when the car hits him. Stiles stiffs his arms, trying to keep a hold on the steering wheel. It’s no use, his car slides off the road and falls onto its side. Glass shatters next to Stiles' face when he bashes his head against the door. The airbags deploy. A coldness hits Stiles core, while his car slides, almost upside down over the bank of the road. His seat belt keeps him in his seat. He hears the metal of the car screeching. His face has turned ashen and his hands are clammy. His heartbeat races, it’s all going to quick, Stiles can’t think what to do. Tears roll over his cheeks. His breathing starts to become irregular. He knows what’s coming. He hasn’t had one in years.
“NO!” he screams. He’s not having a panic attack now. Derek knows where he is. When he doesn’t come home he will come looking for him. He will save him. He always saves him. He will be fine, just some scrapes and bruises, nothing serious. Before he knows it, he will be home with his sourwolf and their girls.
The tree seems to come out of nowhere. Stiles lifts his hands in front of his face. His girls and Derek flash before him when the car folds itself around the wood.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Allison leans against Isaac; her limbs are loose, and she enjoys the romance that is playing out on the TV. Isaac’s phone rings when the boy is just about to get the girl. Isaac kisses Allison on the top of her head and waist for her to sit up a little straighter so he can get up to find his phone. His walk is unhurried, and Allison doesn’t really pay attention to him, she’s still focused on the movie.
A loud bang shocks Allison out of the movie. Her hand jerks against her chest while she turns her head towards Isaac to see what’s going on. Her eyes widen when she sees him. Her husband’s muscles are rigid, his eyes closed, and tears roll over his cheeks. His hand still hangs next to his ear, but his phone lies on the ground. He’s shaking his head slowly, muttering something. Allison wishes that she had werewolf hearing, so she would know what was going on. Her body starts shaking and her eyes water up, something bad just happened.
Her voices trembles when she finds the courage to ask what is going on. Isaac jumps from the sound and seems to realize that he dropped his phone. He picks it up without looking at Allison. His free hand clenches into a fist, opens again and back to a fist. It’s one of Isaac telltale signs of stress.
“Sorry, I…” is all he says. Allison wishes time would speed up, so Isaac can tell her what is going on.
“Yeah, of course. We’ll take care of it.” Isaac says before he takes the phone away from his ear. He holds it with both his hands. The second's tick by. Finally, he places his phone back on top of the cupboard and turns towards the couch. He sits down next to Allison, his hands shake, and he still isn’t looking at her.
Allison takes his hands in hers. And at last Isaac looks her in the eyes. He has a pained stare.
“You need to get Camden out of bed.”
“Why?” Allison whispers.
“We need to go to Derek’s.” Isaac swallows. His shoulders curl over his chest and he turns his face away from Allison.
“Parish asked me to tell him.”
“Tell him what?” Allison has a sour taste in her mouth and is shooting up prayers to any god out there for an answer that is not going to hurt.
“It’s Stiles, he…” Isaac’s voice breaks. He takes a deep breath and looks at Allison. “He’s… he’s dead.”
Isaac wails while he falls against Allison, crumbling after saying it aloud. She pulls him close and cries with him. He’s dead. Stiles is dead. For the first time in her life, Allison doesn’t know what to do. It’s so permanent, so conclusive. No plan to make to save him, nothing. It’s just over. Allison looks at the picture above the cupboard. Isaac in his suit next to her in her wedding dress. Derek standing next to Isaac, hugging a smiling Stiles. Scott, Malia, Lydia, Jordan, Kira, they're all in the picture, but Allison only sees Stiles, smiling in Derek’s arms.
“If this is a nightmare, can we please wake up now?” Isaac asks, pulling Allison back to reality. She pulls her husband even closer and kisses his curls. She wishes they could wake up. Waking up right now would be the best thing ever.
-x-x-x-x-x-
The sheriff hears the sirens of police cars and ambulances. Without thinking he puts on his boots and pulls his jacket back over his shirt and steps out of the house. He might have the night off, he’s still the sheriff of this county and by the sounds of it, something serious happened tonight.
He walks the two blocks to the main road that runs by the preserve. The road is light up by the strobes of police lights. A paramedic is attending to a kid that sits quivering in the back of an ambulance. His car parked only meters away; the front crumpled like it hit something else. One of his deputies is securing the scene with yellow tape, while others direct the traffic around the scene. Noah can’t help the small smile that forms on his face knowing that his men are doing a good job.
The deputy securing the scene spots him and the sheriff stomach quivers. The young man’s eyes are filled with sympathy. Noah’s hands slip into his pockets while he walks onto the scene. None of his deputies stop him, but they also don’t look at him, try to avoid him. Something must be wrong. Noah swallows and walks on. He’s overreacting; his men are just busy with their work.
A path of broken glass catches Noah’s attention. His eyes follow it, passed the broken guardrail to where Parrish and a paramedic are crouched next to a car. The car is twisted around a tree, the wheels are still turning, and smoke is coming from the back. Noah takes a step backwards; his hands are sweating, and he feels ill. He knows that car. It’s the same care that has been parked next to his at the sheriff station for the last seven years.
Parrish and the paramedic stand up and Noah looks at them. The paramedic shakes his head and walks away. Parrish looks at Noah and Noah wants to vomit. Parrish his eyes are puffy and have an empty stare. All his facial features are downturned. The blue and red lights of the police cruisers light up the tears on his cheeks.
Noah runs, towards the car. Screaming. Parrish stops him before he can reach it. Noah fights against his hold, but Parrish is stronger and holds him in place. Noah sinks to his knees; Parrish follows him to the ground, holding him. Noah hits the man on his chest, his arms.
“NO!” he screams, “Not my son.” The pain overwhelms him; tears start to fall while Noah’s body shakes. “Not my son,” he cries. “Please, not him.”
Parrish holds him for minutes until Noah has calmed down a little. He helps Noah up and walks him towards Parrish his cruiser and makes him sit down on the passenger seat. Noah holds his head in his hands. Nobody told him, they didn’t have to. He had known the moment he spotted the brokenness on Parrish his face. He had seen parents crumble to pieces before a word had been spoken and had never understood how they had known, until today.
He hears Parrish talking on his phone. His voice is professional, soft. And then it breaks when he says it. Uttering the words nobody wants to hear. Stiles is dead. Parrish stays still for a couple of minutes and then says it’s okay. He asks Isaac to tell Derek. Noah heaves thinking of his son-in-law and his granddaughters.
Time seems to stand still and go way to fast at the same time. Three fireman work on the car. They’re bending it so they can lift Stiles body out of it. They place him on an ambulance stretcher. Noah holds his breath when a paramedic checks his pulse one more time. His son looks like he’s sleeping, and Noah prays that they will find a trace of life. He stands up and steps towards the stretcher. Only to stop when they pull a sheet over his son’s face. Noah loses all his energy and stumbles forwards. He kneels next to the stretcher. His hands shake when he removes the sheet from Stiles’ face. There are scrapes and cuts on his left cheek. A twig is twisted in his hair and Noah delicately removes it. A small smear of blood is dried up next to his ear. Noah caresses his hand over Stiles his unharmed cheek. Thirty. He’s only just turned thirty. His whole life was still stretching out in front of him. He had so much left to live for. Even his mom had lasted longer than this, had seen her kid grow older than Stiles will ever do. Noah closes his eyes and pleads with himself to wake up now.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Her pen keeps scratching nonsense in her notebook, while Lydia reads the same line for the hundred time. She shifts around in her chair, trying to concentrate. She’s been on edge ever since Jordan left the house. She leans away from her reading and checks her cell phone. A small sound comes from the baby monitor. She listens closely, only to hear that Aiden is just playing around in his crib. Lydia clears her throat and starts reading again, her pen still drawing things in her notebook.
Was it this hard to get back to work the last time? Lydia can’t remember. It was a hectic time, with the witches and their dragon causing havoc. So, it should be easier this time around, no monsters, no people dying, just peace and love all around. Still, Lydia is tense; she consciously has to force herself to relax.
Aiden makes another noise upstairs. Lydia needs to leave this room, stop worrying about the case in front of her. She gets up and walks upstairs. She checks in on Ariel. The little girl is sleeping in her pink bed, her stuffed pony in her hand. Lydia carefully kisses her temple and walks out of the room.
A dim light is shining in the nursery so Lydia can see Aiden lying in his crib. His hands try to catch the cars that hang on his mobile above his crib. It was a gift from Ethan. He was so proud that this little one would carry his brother's name. He almost broke Lydia’s ribs when he hugged her when they told him.
Aiden coos when he spots Lydia. She smiles at her little boy, only weeks old and already the man she loves more than any other. She was planning to just say hello and smile at her baby boy, but now that she’s here, she just needs to hold him. She picks up Aiden from his crib and holds him close.
“I love you, little one.” She strokes his soft hair and walks towards the stairs, picking up one of his toys before she leaves the room. Her phone is ringing down in the study.
“I think we need to answer that. It’s probably daddy calling to tell that he’s going to be out all night,” she tells Aiden. Jordan was called in because of a car accident. Lydia walks back into the study and reaches for her phone. Her hand stops midair when her eyes slide over her notebook. Her chest aches. The page is filled with one name. In capital letters, in small letters, spelled backwards, in bold letters. She’s been writing down his name since moments before Jordan had gotten his call.
Her phone has stopped ringing and the silence is deafening. Even Aiden is quite like he can sense something is wrong. A single tear escapes Lydia’s eye, rolling over her cheek. She doesn’t feel like screaming, but she can feel it in her bones. She pulls Aiden closer to her and tries to look away from the piece of paper filled with Stiles his name.
Her phone starts ringing again. She forces herself to look at the damn thing to see who’s calling her. It’s Jordan. Her hands shake when she reaches for the phone. She had started scrolling down Stiles name moments before he was called out to the car accident. He had said that there was a possibility of fatalities before he left. She answers the call.
“Stiles is dead,” she says without wavering. She’s sure of it. Silence greets her, her husband lost for words. “He is, isn’t he?” she asks. Maybe she’s wrong, for once let her be wrong. Jordan clears his throat. He sounds broken when he answers her question.
“I’m sorry sweetheart.”
They both cry, not knowing what to say next. She wishes Jordan was home right now, so they could hold each other, cry together, and not over a phone. Lydia walks towards the living room and sits down on the sofa; her legs feel heavy and she’s afraid she will fall over if she doesn’t sit down.
“I can’t leave,” Jordan says after a while. “It’s going to be a long night. The sheriff… He’s here and…”
Jordan sniffs, not able to finish his sentence. Lydia can’t imagine how hard this must be for him, knowing he needs to step up now, that he can’t break down. He’s the second in command at the country. He’s responsible for the aftermath, needs to make sure the other deputies do their work. Even though the victim is their friend, his partner, his boss’ son. A friend of most people picking up the pieces right now.
“Jordan, I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
“I’ll be fine. And waiting for you at home as soon as your job is done.” And she isn’t lying, she will be fine. The feeling of losing a loved one isn’t new to her. She has survived Jackson’s death, Aiden’s, Malia’s. As long as she has Jordan and her kids, and the pack, she will be fine. The pack will heal like it had before. The pack will, but Derek…
“Does Derek know?”
The man has already lost so much in his life. His parents, his first pack, his sister, his beta’s, his niece. Will he be able to survive this? Now that his rock is gone. The only person that had been able to heal his wounds?
“I called Isaac, he’s on his way to him as we speak. I couldn’t tell him this over the phone. He needs to hear this from someone that can control him if he loses it. I was afraid if I would send one of the deputies he would hurt them.”
Lydia makes an agreeing noise.
“I still need to tell Scott… and Cora.”
“I’ll call them.” Lydia offers without hesitation. Jordan should focus on the aftermath at the crash site, not about telling their friends and family.
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
Silence follows.
“Maybe you should also call Danny and Ethan. I know they are on holiday…”
“I will, don’t worry about it”
“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“I know, I’ll be here when you do.”
Jordan tells her one more time he loves her before he hangs up. Aiden stirs in Lydia’s arms. She puts him down in his playpen and looks at him with tears in her eyes. Little Talia is only two weeks older than Aiden. She’s not even four months old and already she has lost one of her fathers.
Lydia sits back down and hides her face in her hands. She cries.
After a while, she takes some deep breaths and tries to calm herself down. When she feels she can talk again she picks up her mobile and speed dials Scott. The phone rings, but nobody answers. After a while, the call goes to voicemail. Lydia hangs up and dials again. She wishes that she didn’t have to be the one to tell Scott that his best friend died tonight. And how is she going to tell Cora that the father of her daughters is dead? Scott still doesn’t answer his phone, so Lydia phones again, wishing she would wake up from this nightmare.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Derek sits at the dining table, his plans for the basketball try-out spread out around him. It’s always a surprise what new talent the freshmen will bring to the team and who will fill the spots of the seniors that graduated last year. The plan is to finish these tonight so Stiles and he can have a relaxing weekend with their girls, before the chaos of work, school and a baby take over their lives again on Monday. Stiles just popped out to get the diapers and milk Derek forgot when he did the shopping after work today. He had kissed him on the cheek before he left, promising he’ll be back soon. The girls were both sleeping, their heartbeats slow and calm. How Isaac handles a soundproof house is a mystery for Derek, he would go crazy if he wouldn’t be able to hear his kids.
The doorbell rings. It’s probably Stiles; he tends to forget his house keys when he pops out. Derek looks up at the clock and sees it’s already half past ten. Did Stiles really take this long to buy some diapers and milk?
Derek walks towards the front door, a soft smile on his face. Until he hears Camden complain.
“I’m cold mommy,” he yawns.
What is Allison doing here, with Camden and Isaac? Derek takes two more steps and focuses on their heartbeats. They’re too fast. Derek rolls his thumb over his wedding ring. Sweat tickles over his back. He stops moving, even takes a step back. Stiles has been gone too long and now Isaac is here, in the middle of the night. Something must have happened. His heartbeat speeds up. The world starts spinning.
“Derek, open this door, or I’m kicking it in,” Isaac says from the other side. Derek drags his feet towards the door. His hands tremble when reaches out to the door handle. He doesn’t want to open it, he wants to run away and never find out why they are here.
Isaac pushes the door open when it unclicks from its lock, and Allison walks in with Camden in her arms. She doesn’t look at Derek when she walks towards the guestroom at the end of the hall. Isaac also avoids Derek’s questioning eyes when he walks in, going straight for the living room. Derek closes the door in slow-motion. Did the temperature in the house just drop a few degrees? It’s cold and Derek can’t stop shaking.
His eyes are fixed on the floor when he follows Isaac into the living room. His hand plays with his wedding ring, while he’s listening to the traffic outside, looking for the familiar sound of Stiles car.
Isaac is standing in the middle of the room, his back turned towards the door. Derek picks up the smell of grieve and tears. With a quiet voice, Derek asks what’s wrong. Regretting the question as soon as he asks it, not wanting to hear what the reason is they are here.
Isaac turns around and Derek looks up at him. Isaac’s eyes are red from crying and pity is written all over them. Derek clenches his jaw, his hands clench into fists and his head is shaking to the sides.
“I’ve gotten a phone call from Parrish,” Isaac says in a hoarse voice. “It’s about Stiles.”
Derek shakes his head more prominent. No, Stiles is just at the shop, he’ll be home soon. There is no reason for Parrish to call Isaac about him. Stiles is fine. He’s okay.
“He was involved in a car accident.” Isaac continues.
“No, no, no, stop talking,” Derek begs. He needs Isaac to stop talking. Parrish would have called him if Stiles was hurt, on his way to the hospital. Tears start to form in his eyes. There is only one reason why Parrish would send a wolf to his house. But he can’t be. Not his Stiles.
“There was nothing… Derek, I’m so sorry.”
“Stop talking!” Derek screams. “Don’t do this Isaac,” he pleads. “Please don’t.” He needs him to stop. He needs a way out of this, a way to save him. As long as Isaac doesn’t say it, he will still have a chance to save him.
Isaac walks towards him, holding his hands in front of him.
“Stiles didn’t make it, Derek, he’s dead.”
“NO!” he screams when he falls to the ground. He’s cold and shaking. He plaids: “Not Stiles, please not my hyperactive spas.”
Isaac is sitting next to him in seconds, his arm embracing him. Derek his head falls onto Isaac's shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” Isaac repeats.
Derek doesn’t really hear him. His heart has just shattered into a million pieces. His Stiles is dead. His idiotic fragile hyperactive love of his life. The only thing he can do is scream for the pain that’s eating away at him.
-x-x-x-x-x-
He runs as if his life depends on it. Because Lydia must be wrong. He must have misheard her. Stiles can’t be.
The night had been so good. He and Kira had been sparring in the garage, Liam asleep in his small bed upstairs. It had been a fun sparring match, with little physical contact. Because that afternoon Scott had been surprised by the extra frantic heartbeat coming from Kira. She was expecting. Scott was going to be a dad, again. He had been so happy, so excited to tell Stiles the next day. And then Lydia called.
Kira had answered when the phone started ringing for the third time in a row.
“It must be important,” she had said. Lydia had her business voice on when she told Kira. Scott could hear every word. Stiles had been in a car accident, he didn’t survive. Scott had stepped away from Kira when she had gone pale. He had been holding up his palms towards her. She had asked if Lydia was sure.
“Yes, he’s dead Kira.” had been her response.
Scott had turned around and was running before Kira could say a word.
And now he was approaching the commotion on the street, people are standing behind a yellow tape, trying to catch a glimpse of the wreckage. Scott slows his run and walks up to the tape. One of the deputies lifts the tape to let him pass. Scott smiles softly, the action falling in seconds when he sees the tears in the others man eyes.
The smell of gasoline and oil hangs in the air. Some firefighters are talking softly next to their fire truck. An empty ambulance stands next to it. Nobody is rushing to help, to make sure everyone is okay. Scott turns around, looking for a sign of Stiles. His eyes widen when he spots Stiles his car, just off the bank, crumpled around a tree. Scott’s arms hang limp next to his body, his eyes water up and tears start to roll.
“Sheriff, you need to let go, please,” Parrish begs to his left. Scott turns to face them. Parrish is crouching next to Stiles dad. The sheriff sits on his knees, hugging Stiles close to him. His face is hidden in the sheriffs’ chest. Tears stream over the sheriffs’ face. Scott takes a couple of small steps in their direction. Why is nobody helping Stiles? Where are the paramedics? He looks around, but nobody makes a move to do anything.
Scott takes another look at Stiles; his legs lay on a stretcher and his body doesn’t move or twitch. His arms hang next to him, without moving. The only thing making him move are the back and ford motions of the sheriff. Stiles is quiet, too quiet. His friend normally always makes noises, even when he isn’t doing anything. Scott listens for his frantic heartbeat, only to discover it isn’t there.
He doesn’t know what to do, he’s numb. His footsteps have haltered. He stares into the distance, not seeing anything anymore.
“Scott?” Parrish questions. Scott closes his eyes before he looks at the man.
“Can you help?”
Scott nods and walks the rest of the distance to join them. He crouches down next to the sheriff. Scott can smell blood on Stiles this close to his body. His friend is paler than he’s ever been, even paler than when he spend two months comatose in the hospital. Scott is lost for words. He had failed his friend, even with all his powers and abilities he had been powerless in stopping this from happening.
Together with Parrish Scott gets the sheriff to let go of his dead son's body. They help him up, supporting him when they walk away from Stiles. The sheriff makes it only a couple of steps before he sinks to the ground. Scott goes down with him. The sheriff pulls him into a hug and cries. Scott looks back at Stiles body and sees one of the paramedics replace a sheet over his body.
They sit there on the pavement, hugging each other. The sheriff holding on to him like his life depends on it. Scott’s stomach is upset, and a pain fills the back of his throat. He looks away from the sheriff in his arms. He wants to run, get away from here, from the sheriff, from Stiles dead body. Because he had been too late. He hadn’t been able to save him. He died. Stiles died. His best friend, his brother died. He died. His breathe hitches before the tears start to flow. He threw his arm around the sheriff and lets the pain wash over him. This isn’t a nightmare, he didn’t mishear Lydia. He’s not going to wake up from this, it’s real, even though he wishes it wasn’t.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Chills go over Allison her back when Derek starts screaming from the living room. She looks at her son and is glad he’s already fast asleep. She would do anything to take the pain from Derek. Her own heart is broken and it’s hard to function, and Stiles was just her friend, not the man she was sharing her life with, her anchor.
Allison steps out of the guest room, just in time to see a little girl walk down the stairs. Claudia’s little hand holds the railing, while her other hand drags along a big black rabbit by the ear. She’s wearing a nightgown with some Disney princess on it. Her brown hair is tied up in a loose braid. She doesn’t seem to notice Allison standing in the hallway; she’s completely concentrated on getting down the stairs as quickly as she can. As soon as she reaches the floor she starts running towards the living room.
“Papa,” she cries out.
Allison swoops her up as she tries to pass by her. Claudia fights her hold a little. “Papa,” she sobs.
“Shh, it’s okay.” Allison tries to calm her while she starts walking towards the living room. Claudia relaxes a little when she sees that they are moving towards her papa. Allison strokes the girls back.
They turn the corner and Claudia hides her face in Allison’s shoulder when she sees her papa. Derek is sitting on his knees, his claws scraping over the floor. His head is resting on Isaac’s legs, who is sitting in front of him. Derek screams again, lifting his head a little. His eyes shine bright blue and his fangs are out. Isaac strokes over Derek’s hair and forces his face down again.
Allison walks around them and sits down on the big leather couch. She grabs one of the fuzzy blankets and rolls it around Claudia. Her big amber eyes are focused on Derek.
“What’s wrong with papa?” she whispers fearfully.
Allison is lost for words by the little girl’s question. She tries to think of a way to answer the question without upsetting her father even more.
“Auntie Allison?” Claudia sobs, without moving her eyes from her papa, who seems to calm down a little on hearing his daughters voice. He’s slowly turning back to his human form.
“He’s going to be okay,” Allison answers in a soothing tone. “He just needs a little time and then he will tell you.”
Derek looks up at Claudia, his chin trembles. He leans back and sits down on his backside; he pulls his legs up, close to his chest and holds out his hand towards Claudia. The girl slides off Allison’s lap in seconds and runs towards Derek. He pulls her close and pushes his face into her hair. Claudia her little hands grab onto his shirt and she buries her face in Derek’s shoulder.
“You’re…” Derek starts with a hoarse voice. He forcefully shakes his head. “You’re lying… He just popped out for some groceries. He’ll be home soon.”
Isaac opens his mouth and then closes it again. His eyes beg Allison to say something.
“Derek, he’s not coming home. He’s…”
“Don’t!” he shouts, “You’re lying.”
“Listen to my heartbeat, Derek, I’m not lying. I wish I was, I really wish I was…” tears start to fall from Allison’s eyes again. “He’s dead, Derek, you have to believe us.” She continues mournfully.
“No, he can’t be, not my Stiles,” Derek says pleadingly. “Just say it isn’t true, tell me I’m dreaming, please… Isaac, please don’t do this to me.”
“I’m sorry, Derek,” Isaac cries.
“No, no, no, no…” Derek yammers.
“Derek?”
With a roaring sound, Derek answers: “It’s not true, it can’t be… You’re lying.”
Allison can see that Derek is not open for reason. He will never believe them. Claudia is crying in his arms, not understanding what’s going on. Allison needs to get her out of here and get Derek to see it for himself. She’s afraid that will be the only way to make him believe. So, she takes out her phone and rings Parrish. When he answers she dives right in.
“Derek needs to see for himself.”
“We’re almost at the morgue.”
“Okay, Isaac and Derek are coming your way.”
With that, she hangs up and walks towards Derek. She crouches in front of him.
“Derek, I need you to listen to me. I know you don’t want to believe us and I get that, but you’re scaring Claudia.”
Derek looks down at his girl. Guilt is written all over his face.
“You need to let me take her, so you and Isaac can go to see Stiles.”
“Not without her.” He responds.
“No, Derek, she can’t come. You don’t want her to see that. Trust me, its better if she can remember him without seeing him like that.”
Derek nods, Allison hopes he understands.
“You can tell her when you come back.”
Derek doesn’t answer; he just gives Claudia to Allison and stands up slowly. His back is arched, and he looks so broken. He walks out of the room without saying a word or looking at them. Isaac mouths the words I love you before he also stands up and follows Derek out of the house. Allison releases her breath as soon as the front door closes.
-x-x-x-x-x-
They don’t speak while they drive to the hospital. Derek stares out of the window. He’s holding his arms around his chest. They will see, he will be fine, Stiles will be fine. He has to be.
Isaac parks the car close to the main entrance of the hospital. They get out and walk towards the entrance. Melissa is waiting for them outside. She paces next to the little bench until she sees them. Her eyes are puffy, and her hair is a mess. She’s still in her scrubs. She pulls Derek into a hug when he passes her.
“I’m sorry.” She says. Derek doesn’t respond. There is nothing to be sorry for, this is all one big mix-up. They're all wrong. Derek would know if Stiles was dead, he would know.
The three of them get into an elevator and Melissa pushes the bottom for the basement. Derek needs to look away, pretend he didn’t see that. He needs to believe that Stiles is fine, alive and breathing. He needs him to be.
The elevator pings and opens its doors. Melissa and Isaac step out. Derek can’t move. He just stands there, clenching his hands. He could just go back to the house, crawl into bed with Claudia and wait for Stiles to come home.
Isaac holds his arm in front of the elevator doors so they won’t close. He’s pleading with his eyes for Derek to come. Derek steps into the hallway. The sheriff and Scott sit on two of the orange chairs in the hallway. Parrish is talking somewhere in the distance, Derek hears him pacing up and down. Derek doesn’t look at any of them.
Melissa opens the door to the morgue and steps inside. She holds the door open until Derek follows her. The room is cold and brightly lit. Antiseptics and bleach fill Derek’s noise. Derek’s eyes go over the small cabinet doors of the cooler on the wall, afraid to look to the place where Melissa is standing.
Melissa doesn’t say a word, she just waits. She sniffs and plays around with her bracelet. He will have to look at her at some point. Face the truth. He closes his eyes for a second and then turns his head towards her.
She’s standing next to a metal table. On the table is a body covered with a white sheet. Derek steps closer and raises his arm towards the sheet. He stops midair and lets it drop again.
“Derek,” Melissa starts. Derek tears his eyes off the sheet before him and looks at her. “Do you want me to uncover him?”
“No,” he sniffed. “I need to do this.” He takes a step closer to the table while Melissa steps back.
Derek just stands there, the clock on the wall keeps ticking. It’s the only sound in the room next to his and Melissa’s heartbeats. He doesn’t want to lift the sheet of the body, knowing what he will find underneath. He can still believe that it isn’t true as long as he hasn’t seen it with his own eyes. He can still wake up from this nightmare and be back at home with his love; the man that makes his life worth living. How is he supposed to go on without him? He’s the one that braids Claudia’s hair, sings little Talia to sleep, gets Derek to smile on an off day. Who is going to be their rock now?
With shaking hands Derek finally reaches for the sheet. He has heaviness in his chest and his vision is blurred. He pulls the sheet down a little, revealing Stiles' face. Despair floats through Derek’s body while the tears start flowing again. Stiles looks so peaceful, like when he sleeps. His eyes are closed, and his mouth is relaxed. For one moment Derek believes he’s just sleeping, only Stiles frantic heartbeat is missing, the usual sounds he makes while sleeping are also absent.
Derek strokes his hand over Stiles’ wounds on his left cheek. It breaks his heart to feel how cold he is. His usual heat disappeared. Derek rests his forehead on Stiles and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath, only to smell the start of decomposition and blood. There are no traces of pinewood or cinnamon. None of the familiar scents Derek loves waking up to.
“I love you,” he quivers before he kisses Stiles lips for one last time. He’s dead. He won’t be coming back. His Stiles will never wake up again.