Chapter Text
1.
Derek stumbled to a halt against a tree and tried to catch his breath. The wet, rattling sound it produced made him grimace, but he didn’t have time to wait before it healed. This place was too open, the woods too strange after so many years. He just had to get somewhere safe, so he could rest and heal. The biggest problem was that he didn’t feel safe anywhere near Beacon Hills. He hauled himself up, his mind forming vague plans to just hole himself up in the Camaro until he felt healed enough to drive away, when there was movement further between the trees. He froze, thoughts whirring through his head. Was it- but no, it couldn’t be the Alpha. He’d felt the rush of power when the Alpha died. There was no way to fake that. Who else would walk through the woods at night? Hunters, maybe. The Alpha had been obvious; there had been too many deaths. Probably hunters. Derek stepped back behind the tree and tensed, trying to be ready for a fight he knew he couldn’t win in his condition.
The guy that stepped from between the trees didn’t look like a hunter, though. He was weaponless, for one. He also moved in a way that suggested he tended to walk into things a lot. And he looked too young to be a hunter, though that didn’t really mean much. Hunters were merciless, even with their own children. Still, he looked too wide-eyed to be threatening. Derek felt himself slip against the bark of the tree, weak with something that wasn’t quite relief. The movement brought him back into the light of the half-moon. It was obvious when the kid spotted Derek; he flailed forward and fixed startled eyes on the growing wet spot on what was left of Derek’s shirt.
“Dude!-”
“What are you doing here?” Derek interrupted him. He dug sharp claws into the tree to halt his descent and turned the full force of his glare on the guy. The fact that the other barely blinked was a testament to how weak Derek was feeling.
“There’s cops in the woods,” the other said, though that wasn’t really a reply. He was carefully edging closer. Derek snorted and then blinked in surprise when he realized he was sitting on the ground. When did that happen? He couldn’t- He jerked when he felt a touch to his shoulder. The kid was crouched in front of him, bringing with him the rapid thud of his heartbeat. Derek frowned and tried to concentrate. He couldn’t smell him.
“Why can’t I smell you?”
“I don’t think I’m really here,” the kid answered and carefully laid his hand against the wound on his torso. His skin was cool against the heated flesh and felt solid enough. Derek made a doubtful sound that turned into a hacking cough. Small droplets of blood flecked his hand, but he could already feel his flesh knitting together. He took a few experimental breaths. The twinges of pain were already fading and after a couple of deep inhalations he couldn’t feel anything at all. His head cleared and Derek felt almost jittery with the sudden influx of energy.
“What did you do?”
The kid blinked back at him and shifted back on his heels. His hand was free of blood, even though Derek’s shirt was sodden with it and he’d been touching the wound. “I don’t like it when people are hurting.”
“That’s not what I asked. What did you do!” Derek snarled and let his eyes bleed blue - no, it was red now - hoping to scare a reaction out of the kid. He faltered when the other only looked fascinated.
“That is so cool.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Derek asked, somewhat indistinctly because of his fangs.
“Oh, there are many things wrong with me. But I’m more interested in your deal. What’s with the face, dude? Are you a vampire?”
“What,” Derek said flatly, not even bothering with inflection.
“Oh come on dude, you must know Buffy. That is like, a staple of modern supernatural culture. Where do your eyebrows go?”
“I’m not a vampire,” Derek said. “Don’t be stupid. And don’t call me dude.”
“Whatever you say, man.” And then the other reached out and prodded his forehead. Derek felt his features shift back in surprise at the pure gall of him. The completely out of his mind guy took his hand back and sighed, sounding supremely disappointed.
“You know, I just fixed the gaping hole in your gut for you. The least you can do is indulge my curiosity.”
Derek thought a moment about making a crack about cats, deemed it too easy and resorted to his default reaction; scowling. He also pushed himself to his feet, so he towered over the guy instead of the other way around. The other followed easily and pushed his hands into his pockets. They were nearly of a height; when the other rocked onto his toes he was taller than Derek again.
“Okay, no vampires. What is it then? Werewolf?”
Derek kept quiet and surreptitiously tried to sniff the air. Still no scent, apart from himself and the woods. And then, faintly, the scent of someone else. Male, older, mixed with coffee and paper and gunpowder. He glanced away, distracted. “Cops,” Derek muttered. “You said there are cops in-” He cut off abruptly. There was no one else amongst the trees.
2.
“Hey. You’re still here.” The voice came from behind him. Derek whirled around and mentally cursed the fact that he, apparently, still couldn’t smell the guy. To be taken unaware like that… Especially in the woods surrounding the remains of his childhood home, it made uneasiness settle like a heavy blanket over his shoulders. He straightened, trying to shake the feeling off.
“This is my property. That means you’re trespassing.” And it was his property, even if it didn’t really feel like his anymore. There were always policemen calling to get his statement, when was the last time he saw his sister, why did they come back. (Why didn’t they come back together?) When was the last time he saw his uncle, did he know where he might have disappeared to. There was the looming shadow of the burnt house. There was his sister’s grave, holding only half of her. Just him and his ghosts, Derek thought mirthlessly. Even more so, now, with this new apparition. Who had decided to ignore what he said, it seemed.
“I had begun to doubt you’re real, actually. But there’s talk in the town about some scary hot guy lurking around in the woods. I figured they’re talking about you.” He smiled easily. “You’ve got the lonely housewives here in quite a tizzy.”
Derek scowled with distaste. The other laughed at him. “Sorry, dude, but you do have that bad boy vibe going for you. Maybe you should ditch the leather.”
“It’s functional.” He paused. “What are you doing here.”
“I feel like that sentence is missing a question mark somewhere. And like I said, I was curious. I mean, werewolves, man. I had to rearrange my entire worldview. This is huge. I have so many questions.”
Derek sighed deeply, but truthfully – he couldn’t really gather the energy to mind. The kid had healed him after all, and while that didn’t mean Derek could trust him, it at least meant the other wasn’t actively being a threat. And if he was going to hang around, it might even be… nice. Something like that. Answering some general questions about werewolves would be a relatively small price to pay for some friendly company. The other had to be some kind of supernatural creature anyway, so it wouldn’t even do any harm.
So he sighed again, picked a spot in the moonlight to sit, and prepared to act social. The other flopped down on the grass and grinned guilelessly up at him. It would be alright, for now.
3.
Consider the fact: Derek had grown up in a family pack. Until their deaths, he had never had a lonely day in his life. He had a number of casual friends at school (and maybe sometimes Derek wished he could get closer to someone, but well… werewolves had to be careful who they let in. Derek hadn’t always agreed with the caution, but he had certainly learned his lesson). And even after… that day, he had his sister. They may not have always gotten along, but she had been his Alpha and he her only pack. They had never felt the need to add other people to the pack, shared grief pulling them tighter together. Now though, he had also lost his sister, the last of his pack. The last person who truly knew him. He didn’t know how to integrate in the town - didn’t really want to either - but he was so very lonely. So it was with a sense of anticipation that he awaited the next visit of the mysterious guy.
At the very least, it was a welcome puzzle, to distract him from the fact he was an Alpha without a pack and so basically useless. It was hard enough to integrate the new Alpha instincts with a lifetime of being a beta. He had no one to teach him or act as support. He didn’t know what he was doing.
4.
The other didn’t come every night, and never when the sun was up. Sometimes he stayed away a couple of night. He always looked surprised to see Derek waiting for him. Most nights he bombarded Derek with questions. It mostly served to show Derek how much he didn’t know, both about werewolf culture and about the other guy. He broke in halfway through one of the kid’s questions.
“What’s your name?” The kid blinked at him for moment. Derek already opened his mouth to ask again when he frowned and said, “I don’t think I can tell you.”
He frowned right back. “Why the hell not?”
“It’s just… this feeling. Like a, I don’t know, a block or something. I don’t think I am actually capable of telling you. I can try, though, if you really want me to? I don’t think it’ll do any harm to try.”
Derek nodded, not really sure what to expect. He watched as the other took a breath, opened his mouth, and blinked out of existence. Derek took an involuntary half step forward and waved a hand through the empty air. Nothing. He ruthlessly suppressed the worry that tried to settle in his ribcage. Then he sat down to watch the journey of the moon across the sky and, when he was sure the other wasn’t coming back that night, got up again and went home. The worry had settled anyway.
Sometimes it made him angry that the other had barged into his life and made him care, but mostly, if he was being honest with himself, he was thankful. He was thankful he wasn’t left completely alone. He was thankful he had some kind of purpose, however small it was.
The other seemed very sad, most of the time, but he was also very smart and wickedly funny. Derek had the impression he was happier every time he faded again and that felt… good. He was doing something good. It had been such a long time since he felt capable of doing that. He could even ignore he was living in a burnt out husk, sometimes, and the way people in the town eyed him with equal parts wariness and pity. He didn’t quite know why he didn’t just leave, but then again, he didn’t know where he’d go either. Besides, he couldn’t be sure the other was still able to find him if he wasn’t in the woods near his house anymore. Their meetings weren’t something he was willing to lose.
5.
“Hey, sourwolf.”
Derek scowled through his relief at hearing the other’s voice again. “Why are you calling me that?”
“You’re so grumpy,” he teased. “Sometimes I’m afraid your eyebrows will jump off you head and attack me. Which is really weird, because that sweater you’re wearing is making you look super cuddly. And, dude, did you ditch the leather jacket? Are you trying to get rid of the lonely housewives? Because, sorry, but I don’t think this is the right way to go about that. Because of the whole… cuddly thing.” He made a vague gesture towards Derek’s torso.
“Cuddly,” Derek repeated. Which- what?
“Yeah, I’m feeling very conflicted right now,” the other agreed brightly. “You’re triggering my hug or flight response.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about fleeing,” Derek said drily. “With that whole disappearing act you’ve got.”
The other sobered. “Yeah, that’s annoying alright. But it’s not… too bad, is it? That I can’t tell you stuff? I mean, I’m not very interesting.” He perked up again before Derek could interject. “You could give me a name, you know. Something to use when I’m here with you.”
Derek shook his head. He knew there was power in names, and naming something made it yours, however little. He didn’t deserve owning even so small a part of someone.
“Why not?” The other swayed closer en ducked his head to catch his eyes when Derek tried to look away. “I wouldn’t mind, not unless you suck at names. Do you?”
“Give yourself a name, if you want it so much,” Derek scowled. “You certainly enjoy doing it to me.”
The other blinked and took a step back out of Derek’s personal bubble. “Do you mind that I do? You could’ve said something if you minded. I mean, you did say something, but I didn’t figure you were being serious. Also you haven’t told me your name either and it’s super weird to use someone’s name when they’ve never told you.”
“It’s Derek,” Derek said and then immediately backtracked. “But you could- I mean- I don’t mind if you do. Give me names. That’s okay.”
“Hey Derek,” the other said and smiled warmly. Derek could feel the tips of his ears heating up and scowled fiercely to try and hide it. By the way the other’s smile turned into a grin he probably failed. He desperately cast around for something to change the subject with and seized something the other had said.
“So does that mean you did know my name before I told you?”
He instantly regretted asking about it. Because there was a reason most of Beacon Hills remember the Hale name and that reason was the fire. And if he was visiting the town often enough to hear the gossip about Derek’s return, he’d most likely also heard the gossip about why he left in the first place.
The other lost his grin and cocked his head. “Well, it was big news what happened. Also…” And then he hesitated for a moment. He continued with the air of someone carefully picking out their words. “I could sometimes overhear things, hanging around.”
“Hanging around what?” But the other shook his head. Something else he wasn’t able to say, then. Derek wondered why it was, that the other couldn’t say places and names. It was as if he wasn’t allowed to say anything that could lead to answers, but Derek didn’t know what the question was in the first place. Maybe it was something about how the other had died, but Derek hadn’t heard anything about unexplained deaths. Apart from the ones that had called Laura back to Beacon Hills, of course, but none of them could’ve been this guy. Unless he wasn’t-
It took him three more meetings to gather his courage, but then he finally asked, “So are you like… a ghost?” The other frowned at him, but didn’t leave, and Derek took that as the victory it was.
“I’m not dead. I wake up when I leave here.”
It was relief that flooded his chest and swelled his heart. Derek tried to ignore it. “Where do you go?”
He shrugged. “It’s… vague when I’m here with you. I’m sure it’s some kind of institution, because that’s logical. But other than that… Only some impressions like white hallways and a room. I don’t know.”
“What kind of… A mental institution?”
He nodded. And that was anger lighting up Derek’s nerves. “You’re not crazy!”
He hummed and said, “Everybody tells me I am. My father thinks I’m crazy and it hurts him every time he has to visit me.”
Derek took a couple of deep breaths and said through gritted teeth, “I think I’m a werewolf. Am I crazy too?”
“Maybe,” he answered. “Or maybe I am dreaming right now and nothing that happens here is real. Or maybe you’re right and this is real and I’ve spent the past years locked away for nothing. But I don’t want to believe that either. The most important thing is that I don’t cause my father more problems.”
Derek couldn’t keep his anger inside anymore. “I don’t give a fuck about your father!” As soon as the words left his mouth Derek knew it was a mistake. The other faded away without warning and Derek spun around and punched a tree. The splinters dug into his knuckles, but that was okay wasn’t it? That pain was familiar. He punched the tree again and let his eyes flare. Then he lowered himself to the ground and carefully picked out the pieces of wood with his claws.
6.
The next time he visited Derek in the woods at night, he opened with, “It’s not my dad’s fault.” Derek shook his head and took a few large steps so they were standing right in front of each other. Then he took a deep breath, trying to chase the smell a human body carried with it, but there was only himself and the earthy smells of the forest. He knew that of course, but couldn’t keep himself from trying. It was instinct for him, supplementing visual impressions with sounds and smells. Proximity would have to do though, so he could hear the breathing and thumping of the other’s heart and feel the slight chill he always emanated. Derek shook his head and paid attention to the other again. He was waiting patiently, though with a twist to his lips, and repeated, “It was not my dad’s fault. I was a difficult child. Too much energy, not enough attention. And… I saw things sometimes, that… Well, my dad handled it. But then I accidentally set something on fire and I couldn’t remember how. They said I was a danger to myself and my environment and my dad- he couldn’t deal with something like that. Not without my mom and with his job taking up so much of his time. And I didn’t want to make more trouble for him, you know.”
“He shouldn’t have said you were trouble,” Derek said hoarsely.
“He never said that, but I’m not blind. Look, I know my father loves me, alright. It’s just better for him if he can love me from a distance. Professional help, and all that.”
“So is he doing better? Your father?” Derek asked. Not that he really cared about a person who just shipped his son away (you don’t do that to pack. You don’t leave each other alone like that. He firmly ignored the memory of leaving his uncle, bearing the scars caused by Derek’s mistake), but the other seemed to enjoy talking about him. And well, it was a kind of peace offering too. He probably knew, by the way he side eyed him, but also accepted it.
“Yeah, I guess. He drinks too much and doesn’t eat healthy enough, but my friend’s mom checks up on him sometimes and his colleagues take care of him, somewhat.”
“Does he tell you that?” Derek asked and didn’t ask ‘you have a friend?’ Because of course he has friends, even though he’s locked away somewhere. His friends probably visit him and maybe they write each other or call. It was stupid to think Derek was his only friend, even though it was true for him. But that was okay, it wasn’t like Derek owned him or anything. It was enough that he spent most nights with Derek in the forest.
“I check up on him sometimes. It was how I first found out I could do this, actually. I didn’t want to leave my father without someone to care for him or knowing he’s safe. And at first I thought I was just dreaming about it, but sometimes I saw things that turned out to be true when he visited me. Like I saw how a knife slipped when he was making food and when he visited he had a Band-Aid on his thumb.” The other fell silent for a moment and then added “he can’t see me though, or touch me, or hear me. You’re the first person I met that can. I think it’s because you, you know,” and he made a claw with one hand and pretended to slash something. And maybe that should’ve satisfied the jealous side of Derek, the territorial part of him that didn’t like to share with others, but it just made him sad. Here was this amazing person, who had found a way to escape whatever place he was being kept in, even if not physically or permanently. And he still couldn’t talk to the people he loved or hug them. He was basically stuck with Derek if he wanted to interact with somebody and he was sorry for that too. Derek knew his own shortcomings, that he was too reticent and frequently irritated. Derek couldn’t stop the arm slung around the other’s shoulder if he wanted too. He did still for a moment though, wondering if it was okay. Werewolves were physical beings by nature, but he knew many humans jealously guarded their personal space. The other merely turned into the half hug however and grinned up at him.
“I’m glad you can see me, big guy.”
The moment hit Derek like a punch in the gut.
He was happy.
He was happy, just sitting here with a guy whose name he didn’t even know. Sharing some of himself and getting so much more in return. And the only thing he could wish for right then, was that the other would be able to actually, physically, be there with him.