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Derek wakes up in the dark with no memory of what happened to him. But he is alive and that’s something.
He tries to move but something is keeping him on place. What the hell? He has arms chained behind his back and... is that wolfsbane? Of course it is, damn it.
"Awake, I see," deep voice reaches his ears and Derek automatically tries to look behind him where the source of the voice is. He can't. Ropes are to tight for that. But he doesn't actually need to look, Derek already knows who it is.
"Stiles?" His voice is raspy and thick. Falling like a death weight into the darkness around him. He clears his throat and tries again. "Stiles?"
The tall figure with broad shoulders, narrow waist and long legs comes from behind him. Light flickers and Derek quickly closes his eyes. It still hurts, though. But eyes aren't the only hurting thing. His arms are burning from aconite rope and same his ankles, where his legs are being chained up. Chains and ropes together is pretty good way how to prevent him from escaping.
"Derek," smooth voice answers and werewolf opens his eyes. In front of him is Stiles, but not Stiles. This one is older than the boy whom he knows. Whom he calls his friend. This one has no warmth in whisky colored eyes. No impish smirk on his face. This one is cold and foreign. And Derek should never trusted him.
"What do you want?" Derek asks and frowns at the older man. Because he is older. Not just older than his Stiles, but also older than Derek.
Stiles chuckles. "Directly to the core. I like that about you."
Derek is just staring at him with his best bitch face. It has little or no effect on Stiles' more dangerous version.
They should never trusted him. None of them, not just him. They all thought that Stiles' older version traveling through time is for once something not completely terrible. Fools. Idiots, really. Of course it came back bite them in the ass. Bite his ass, specifically.
He was too coldblooded. He was way too fine with killing as an easy answer. And especially, he was a hunter. God fucking dammed hunter. But he explained everything about situation in future. How pack needed him stronger. How he just wanted to protect Beacon Hills and it's people. Well, bullshit.
"I want you dead."
Derek didn't freeze. He wasn't shocked. It’s just like every damn time. Worst possibility.
"So, get on with it," he growls annoyed with everything; their stupidity, this situation, fact that he’s dumbstruck with the vision of man Stiles could become. That he liked him. That he wanted him. That he hoped there maybe can be some future for them.
Stiles just laughs. Velvety smooth laugh that Derek hates because it makes his spine all tingly. He hates the fact he wants to hear this laughter for the rest of the eternity. Because it is Stiles. No matter how different or twisted, this is his laughter and Derek loves it.
"No asking why? I'm not even surprised, Derek. That's just not your style, right?"
"You still talk too much," Derek growls and face in front of him shines with wide smile.
"Some things just never change," future-Stiles shrugs. And then he steps closer to Derek, bending one knee, pushing it between Derek's. "You know, in the future? You're still pathetic excuse for a man. Wreck, crumbling inside with self-hatred and well deserved guilt, whining about how everything you touch burn and die."
Derek is biting inside of his cheek trying to not give away anything from what those words may be doing to him. Words that are burning so much worse than wolfsbane in his open wounds.
Stiles rises one hand and cups his chin. The touch is tender, almost hesitant. There is touch of a thumb on his lower lip, so soft and still so sinful. In the other hand Stiles’s holding dark blade, pressing it to Derek's ribs. Something in Derek brakes with cry of pain worse than he could ever imagine. Something he cherished, what he wanted to give away in the right moment to the right person. This tenderness was something he desired and yet, it was all just horribly wrong, now.
"But these eyes," Stiles says like there is nothing happening. Like Derek's world isn't crumbling down in pain and silence. "These eyes are still mesmerising. Now and then. Still most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Stiles flicks his own amber eyes from the left to the right eye and then smirks pulling himself away. One almost unhearable whine escapes from Derek's lips before he can stop it. And from the smug look on Stiles' face he knows he heard that.
There is a loud cracking noise when something, or most likely someone, burst through the door. There are voices. Scott. Kira. Malia. Stiles. They all stop on the spot with flash of light when they crush into the barrier from a mountain ash. Except Stiles. His Stiles. Gangly, lanky kid with moles and freckles everywhere. With long lashes and messy hair. With big heart so often bleeding for his father and his friends. Smart and dumb all at once.
"What the hell are you doing?!" he yells at his older version in the moment he is standing between Derek and his future self. Armed only with his anger. "Why did you take Derek?!"
"Because he need to pay!" Answer is just as loud and angry.
"Pay? Pay for what, you psycho?" In different situation, Derek would probably couldn't stop silent chuckle, seeing Stiles call himself a psycho.
"He killed our father!"
And then there is silence. For few second no one move a muscle.
"What?" His Stiles breathes, his face stuck in a grimace of complete shock. Then he shakes his head. "No. No, that's fucking bullshit! Derek would never hurt my father!"
Older Stiles cocks his head to the left. "But he didn't save him, either. He chose his revenge rather than saving our father. He chose to kill Kate motherfucking Argent instead of saving my dad!"
Scott, and Kira, and Malia are still trying to break mountain-ash barrier but all they manage is surreal light show. Derek is still chained and Stiles is still standing alone and unarmed against his older, stronger and better trained version.
"Derek would never-"
"Stop defending him!" older Stiles yells angrily. "I've been there, you idiot! I saw him choose himself over dad! Stop constantly think he's a damn perfect because he isn't! He's just another selfish prick in your life. Just because you think you're in love with him doesn't mean he's worth it!"
Stiles' mouth is open agape and his eyes wide, when he takes one step back from the older man.
"I- You-"
Man from the future snorts. "Please, no one is that oblivious. Not even emotionally constipated werewolf like him," he jerks with his chin in Derek's direction. "It just doesn't mean anything. This asshole ruined our lives and I'm going to prevent that." He raises hand with dark blade. Kira jumps on the barrier with angry scream and the falls on the ground with pained hiss.
Derek thinks it could have ended worse. This is going to be quick and clean. Way better death than other possibilities. Kate is surely planing something much worse for him. It’s kind of satisfying that she never gets the chance.
"You're never going to make it out of this basement if you hurt him," Stiles hisses. "You must know that."
Older Stiles just chuckles. "I wasn't planing on it. See, that's the beauty of travelling through time. I kill Derek here and now and that is going to change whole time line, so even if you manage to kill me, it doesn't matter, because I will no longer exist anyway. From this point everything is tabula rasa. New future with our dad safe and sound."
"That's fucked up!" Stiles yells. "If you die, there is no way for you to come back and kill Derek."
"If I kill him now, there is no reason for me to come back, kid. Use your brain. Without him everything is going to be perfect."
"Do it."
All faces turns to Derek, all of them in different stages of shock.
"Are you insane?!" Stiles' warm whiskey eyes wide and horrified. And warm. Derek's heart literally swells with all that warmth focused on him.
"If it makes things right, Stiles? Just let him do it. It’s going to be easier for everybody." For me went unspoken. Derek is tired. So incredibly tired. He could use a break. Even permanent one like this.
"No." Stiles face goes hard and determined. "No. Way."
"You can't actually stop me, kid," older Stiles smirks. "Don't look at me like I was the one ruining your life, it's not like he's the only one you could love. There are people with less baggage the he has. Actually most of the planet. He's dead inside anyway."
Stiles is crying. His face crumpled with anger, but Derek can smell his horror and sadness. Those aren't angry tears.
"Don't you fucking dare touch him," he shakes his head at his opponent. Older Stile just signs.
"And here I was, thinking we could made it without all this teenage drama. Guess we can't," he says when Stiles makes his first step towards him.
Derek more hears then sees something fast fly over his head, before it buries itself into older man's chest. Another arrow flies uncomfortably close to Derek's head before it hit surprised time traveler. Two arrow ends are sticking out of man's chest, when he raises his surprised gaze to the stairs. Derek can't turn his head around but there is an another beating heart in the basement.
Older Stiles just wheezes and falls on the concrete floor covered with dirt and dust. There is blood leaking from his wounds and Derek scrunches his nose in disgust, when muscles of a dead man stops holding, well, everything.
"What?" familiar voice asks. "Allison thought me."
Lydia. Derek chuckles to himself with relief and many indefinable feelings floating through his mind. Stiles briskly kneels next to the body and takes his blade and keys to the chains.
With quick smooth moves cuts the ropes around Derek's ankles and wrists and unlocks the chains. Derek stands up and swallows hiss of pain. He feels lightheaded and kind of off. He’s pretty sure there is wolfsbane in his blood. But it can wait.
Stiles stands next to the corpse of himself and doesn't move. Or speak. Derek can't decide which one is worse.
"You okay?"
Stiles snorts, but doesn't turn to Derek. "I just tried to kill you."
Derek frowns. "No, you didn't."
"Yeah, I did. Him? Me? We are the same person."
Derek catches Stiles' left arm and turns him to face him. "No, you didn't," he repeats. "And no, you're not."
"But-"
"Listen!" Derek feels urgent need to explain... to tell Stiles... He can't bear the look in young man's eyes. That guilt. There is no reason for it. "He lived life you yet have to live. He made choices and lived through things that didn't happen, yet. There is no way he could be the same person you're now."
"Yeah," Stiles says, nodding after a while, "guess that's the reason why he came back in the first place. For not living through some things."
Derek takes a step back, letting Stiles' arm go. Everything that happened came to him in one terrible second. He caused death of just another person in his life. This time someone who is the most important for Stiles. His dad.
"Derek. Derek, don't!" Stiles catches his hand before Derek can take another step away from him. Big brown eyes so earnest and full of urgency. "My dad's fine. He's okay."
"For now," Derek manages with strangled voice.
"Yes, for now and for later."
"You can't know that."
"Yes, I can."
"No, you can't," Derek scowls at him, but Stiles just returns it.
"Yes. I can. Because," he says emphatically, "now we know. We can change that. When it comes to decision, you can do something else. Or, maybe, there isn't going to be any choosing, because timeline can be already changed."
Derek is silent. Is that possible? Can he change things older Stiles said it happened without dying?
"I don't understand why would I-" he falls silent. Why would he choose Kate over saving Stiles' dad? That doesn't make any sense.
"We should rid of the body," Scott says behind them and startles Derek for a second. He’s completely forgot about others. And if he could read Stiles' look right, he wasn't the only one.
"Sure, Scotty," Stiles nods shortly and takes another look on the body. "It's fucking strange, you now? I kind of hoped that one day I'm gonna be total badass. But this one was total psycho. Badass, but man, total psycho."
Alpha chuckles clapping on his bestfriend's shoulder. "He was kind of terrifying. I could live without my best friend being a half nightmare."
"Sure thing," Stiles smirks. "Anything for you, buddy."
Derek watches others taking body outside because they won’t let him help. You’re injured. You need to go to the clinic. Right. He doesn't bother with protesting when Kira pushes him up to the stairs.
“Stiles can you drive us?” she asks without any hesitation.
“Sure.” Stiles’ voice sounds almost hollow. Like he’s trying too hard to not give anything away. Derek is not sure, what that anything could be, but there were things that future-Stiles said. Things that Derek always tried really hard to not think about. Ever.
Clinic is close. Just few minutes of silent driving. Kira bolts out to give Deaton heads up, letting them in silence stretching with every second. Stiles is first who makes sound, letting out breath he was holding. “Wanna help?”
Derek shakes his head, but Stiles ends up helping him anyway. Derek just tripped, okay? He’s fine. He can walk. But every protest is shut down by Stiles’ presence in Derek’s personal space. He can feel the warmth of that lithe body. He can smell it.
“Stiles?” When he’s this close, Stiles’ eyes looks even more golden. Or maybe it’s the setting sun reflected in them. He’s not sure. Boy gives him incredulous look, when Derek opens his mouth and then closes it again. “Thanks,” he manages at last.
“What for?”
Derek just gives him a look. Stiles snorts.
“Don’t mention it, Sourwolf.”
“You saved my life.” Again. How many times they are going to not mention it?
“You’ll repay that favor sooner or later, I’m sure. It’s fine. It’s not like it wasn-”
“Stiles!” Derek hisses. “I’m trying to say thank you, could you shut up for a minute?”
Stiles looks surprised. “Okay?”
“Thank you for coming for me.” Derek tries but it comes out grumpy and not exactly enthusiastic.
But Stiles smiles at him. Real full blown wide smile. “Anytime.”
“Don’t stand between me and the knife next time.”
Small laugh escapes from that ludicrous lips of Stiles’. “Yeah, dream on. Now shut up and let Deaton fix you. You look like you’re going to throw up on me again.”
“I've never throw up on you.” Derek suppresses his smile almost violently. Everything should be falling apart, right now. Instead there are jokes and laughter. Maybe this really is a new chance. They can choose direction for their lives and make their own decisions.
And Derek made his decision right now. He’s not going to mess up this time. Not just for him. Or for Stiles. He’ll manage it for them.