Work Text:
" You called?"
" Yes. 7 times."
" Sorry. Didn't hear the phone."
" Are you coming home tomorrow or not?"
" I don't think I'm going to be able to make it. I'll make it up to you when I get back."
" Which would be when exactly?"
" I don't know, Derek. I'll let you know when I do."
" The same way you were going to let me know you're bailing on me for the third time in a row?"
" It's not like I'm doing this on purpose."
" You're not? Really?"
" No, Derek, I'm not. Listen, I can't do this with you right now."
" Then, when, Stiles? When are you going to be able to do anything with me?"
" I don't know. I'm sorry, okay?"
" Not okay. Really not okay."
" I'll text you when I get home. I love you."
" Yeah. Love you too."
He didn't text him until it was 27 hours later. He told him it'd been a long day at work and that he would go straight to bed. He didn't mention their previous conversation or even coming home. Derek didn't know what to do. It'd been like that between them since Stiles had to turn down that permanent position working with Scott's dad for the FBI, because it was too far away and they knew they couldn't do long distance. Or was it after the sheriff's second heart attack? It could have been around the time that Stiles forgot his own birthday and didn't show up for the surprise party they organized because he was drowning in assignments and deadlines for his Masters. Derek couldn't trace it back to a single moment when it all started falling apart. He just knew that it was, and he had no way of stopping it.
Two more days of ignored phone calls and late text replies, Derek found Scott on the phone with Stiles and he had enough. He grabbed the phone out of Scott's hands, put it to his ear, and didn't allow himself to take in the sound of Stiles' laugh, because then he'd just end up missing it – missing him and it seemed like that was all he was doing these days.
" I'm guessing you didn't see my calls, right? You surely didn't read and ignore my texts as well?" Stiles stopped laughing, the happiness dispersing away from his voice, like Derek had taken that too from him.
" Derek, fuck, no, I was going to call you, I just – " It took him a bit too long this time to come up with an excuse, a justification to soften the blow of the disregard, the avoidance. But Derek had heard it all, had caught the lie every single time and still had chosen to believe it, because what else was he meant to do? He couldn't call Stiles out on his lies because what if he stopped bothering even with those? What if he lost him?
" It's – whatever. I'm going to hand Scott his phone back and you know where to find me, if, you know, you ever need or want to."
That night, Stiles ended up calling Derek. Three times when he didn't answer on the first two, as if he could feel him start to let go. Or at least, start to want to.
" Stiles," Derek sighed his name out, breathed out the last of his irritation that he was just too exhausted to cling to.
" Hey, did I wake you?"
" No, I was just taking a long shower."
" Oh. When I called you the first two times and you didn't pick up, I thought maybe you were ignoring me."
" I wasn't. I wouldn't do that to you." Derek held back on saying that Stiles had been doing it to him for so long now, he'd almost forgotten how it felt to be let in.
" So, how was your day?"
" It was okay. The usual, really. Morning shift at the library, then had lunch with Scott and Melissa at the hospital. How about you?"
" Kind of a slow day to be honest. I had to send in a draft for my Masters so I just stayed in, no work or anything."
" Did you make the deadline?"
" Yup. Sure did."
" That's – good. That's great, Stiles." Derek didn't know how to do this with Stiles. It'd been so long since they had to be cautious around each other, since they didn’t know how to co-exist, how to say what they meant without it sounding like something else, something worse.
" I know they've been a rough few days, and – " Derek's senses were taken over by sheer panic, knowing that once they started this conversation, it would end with their end, all lights would go out and the curtains would close. They would no longer be. And Derek couldn't bear the thought of it.
" I don't think we can talk about this on the phone, Stiles. I – how about postponing it till you get back?" Maybe him coming back would remind him of why he stayed so long, why he started this thing with Derek, why he made him all those promises like he had all intention to keep them, like he couldn’t possibly outgrow him, or fall out of love, or feel suffocated by his presence instead of grounded.
" Sure. Yeah. We can do that. I - I'm going to go now though, I have this little get together at my professor's home and maybe we'll go out after, I don't know. I'll talk to you later?"
" Yeah. Have fun. I'll just – " Then there were sounds of people barging into Stiles' room, and he was trying to speak over them, trying to listen in for anything else that Derek was willing to give, but the tide was too aggressive and it washed Derek out, dragged Stiles away. Derek didn't understand how he was pushed so far out of Stiles' life, why he had to squeeze himself into all those things that he felt like he didn't belong to, no longer had any right to.
They texted almost regularly after that, with occasional phone calls every few days, filled with.. pretty much nothing. They were some of the most vacant, pointless conversations Derek had ever had with Stiles. And he hated it. He hated it almost as much as he hated Stiles dodging his calls all together. Until Stiles stopped reading his texts or answering his calls for two days straight, and he hated that too.
It was almost midnight, when Cora came knocking on his door, looking like something had gone terribly wrong, like she was about to set his world on fire and watch him, watch it burn. She told him to grab a jacket, that they needed to move immediately, that Scott was already on his way.
" On his way where? Where are we going, Cora?" Derek did as he was told anyway, collecting the few belongings that he was bound to need, before getting in his car and driving with no clear idea of his destination.
" It's Stiles." His heart did this thing in his chest, like it was breaking apart, or trying to break through it.
" What about Stiles?"
" The pack he was helping out with got attacked when he was there. He'd been held hostage for – "
" Two days." Derek finished for her. Of course. He should have known better. Stiles wouldn't just ignore him like that, not for this long, not when there were this many pieces between them that another tear in their relationship, another crack, and they would just free fall through it, and keep falling with no clear crash, no relief in sight. They would never stop falling – never stop ending.
" Fuck, how did I not pay attention earlier? Is he okay? Did they hurt him?"
" He says he's fine but Scott doesn't quite believe him. He doesn't think it's anything too bad though, I mean, he was alert and coherent so that's something." Derek nodded, swallowed whatever was blocking his throat, his fingers tracing the scars on Stiles' back that he'd felt through every night until he fell asleep across the steering wheel, trying to find all the empty spaces that could fit new ones, trying to remember how they felt when they were still raw and angry looking. He always hated how fresh wounds felt. He hated how all wounds felt when they were on Stiles' body.
The drive wasn't that long, but Scott had taken a plane anyway to get him there faster. By the time Derek knew what was going on, they couldn't find any flights to follow, so Scott got there a couple of hours before Derek and Cora did. Derek didn't even know if he'd put the car on park, and he didn't care much, as he pushed his way into the alpha's house, sniffing out Stiles, before he found him, leaned against a bloodied wall, his clothes torn off him revealing a vicious-looking open wound across his stomach, exactly 3 pierced holes in his chest, and face so swollen, Derek could barely find his eyes. Could barely find him.
" Jesus Christ, Stiles," Derek heard it, but didn't realize it came out of him, hadn’t thought he'd be able to find anything to say, or the voice to say it. Derek took 2 steps closer to Stiles, Scott left his position in front of him, and Stiles wrapped around Derek before he could even ask him to, like he needed it – like he needed him again. And Derek held and touched and comforted like he'd been waiting for it.
" Are you okay? Fuck, what did they do to you?" Derek laid a hand on Stiles' cheek, careful not to press too hard.
" I'm okay, it's not as bad as it looks."
" Really? You're in a house filled with two different packs of werewolves and you still want to try this?" Stiles kind of smiled, but it looked all wrong across his face, like he couldn't commit to it.
" No, seriously, it might be the adrenaline and I might crash pretty soon, but for now, it doesn't hurt as much as you'd think."
" Which part?" Derek moved his eyes from Stiles' face, passing by his chest, down to his stomach, before going back to meet Stiles' eyes again.
" All of it. It's not so bad, I'm okay." Stiles' head moved into a reassuring nod, that dissolved into Derek's shoulder, as he breathed him in, felt the constant anxiety he'd been battling subside a little, allowed himself to just – love him and not feel like he was losing him every minute of every day. He allowed himself to have Derek, to be held and surrounded and – loved by him, like he assumed no one else would ever again.
Stiles had loved Derek for so long now. He'd only ever known family love before, the kind he had for his dad or Scott. He'd had this briefly confused moment when he'd thought that he might have been in love with Lydia, but then Scott had been bitten and Stiles had that oh moment. Like, oh what I feel for Lydia isn't anything more than the safety of a long-term friendship and the need for reassurance that I am capable of feeling anything romantic towards someone if I choose to. And oh this is what Scott talks about every time he talks about Allison and this is why he looks the way he does and his eyes do this thing they do. And oh this is what it is supposed to feel like, only, so much more, so much better than anything I would have thought, I almost felt like he didn't deserve it, like most of the time I can barely handle being around Derek without imploding with all the mushy feelings in the world. And then it'd started. They'd stacked up their cards one at a time, one for the trust they had for one another. A card for the accountability they expected and depended on. Another for the ache they felt when they were apart. A card for the love and the need and the promises and the future they didn't see outside each other and the past that faded when compared to all the lifetimes they could see in the other's eyes. Stiles had known it was damn near impossible to find a love like that, so he'd held on. Derek had too, just as desperate then as he was now, as he held onto Stiles like he was keeping him there, like he too could feel another card crumbling, their paper house being blown away by a storm they didn't see coming, but could feel, deep in their bones.
" Thank God," Derek breathed out, and it sounded weak, terrified. Stiles tightened his grip around him, choosing to let him decide when to let go.
" Does your dad know? Or do I need to call him?" Derek questioned into Stiles' hair.
" I'm not sure. I think Scott probably told him."
" How did Scott find out anyway? Did the alpha of that pack tell him?"
" No, I did, I – "
" Wait, what? You called Scott?" Derek pulled away, didn't know when – if ever – he'd be able to cling on again.
" Technically, I answered his phone call, but – "
" I called too. I called and I texted and I did everything to try to reach you. How come you chose his phone call to answer? Why do you keep doing this to me, Stiles?" Derek's voice wasn't angry yet, it was barely accusatory. It was just hurt. Plain and simple.
" I didn't choose to answer his phone call specifically, Derek, it just so happened to come when I had my phone in hand. It could have been anybody." Stiles frowned, feeling the headache intensifying with the sound of another card falling, another wall to their house collapsing, and a wall of broken pieces rising between them.
" Could it have been me? Would you have answered your phone if it were me?"
" Probably. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"
" Because I'm a werewolf and I can hear your fucking heart and you're still lying to me, Stiles."
" I'm not lying, I didn't choose to tell Scott first, it just happened that way. What was I supposed to do?" Everything went quiet, except for the sound of Derek snapping, losing.
" Call me! Talk to me! Come to me for help! You were supposed to fucking choose me, Stiles. I don't know what I've done to make you think that you can't do that. I don't know what to fucking do anymore." Derek's arms fell beside him, everything about him seemingly giving up. Stiles blinked, unable to keep up with how quickly everything had gone to shit. He was tired and in pain and he was in no way prepared for all those words loaded with goodbyes.
" I don't think we can do this any longer."
" What?" Stiles didn't mean to say those words out loud. He didn't even mean to think them. He was just so.. tired.
" I'm sorry for how I've been acting lately, Derek. I know it isn't fair to you. I know you didn't do anything to deserve me unloading my shit on you, and I'm sorry. I'm breaking your heart, I can feel it, I see it on you, but I – I don't know if there's anything more that I can offer you here. I don't know how to come back from this."
" I don't understand." Derek shook his head. He'd assumed he would be expectant of this whenever it came, he'd seen it coming a long time ago, he'd felt it and heard it in the quiet that filled the spaces between their far apart conversations. But standing there in front of Stiles, he couldn't bear the thought of never holding him again, of having to just fall out of love with him when all he'd done for years now was fall heart first in love.
" I don't see another way out of this. I don't – I don't want to lose you, Derek, and – "
" Don't you love me? How can you just – stop?" Stiles fell back against the stairs, like his cords had been cut off, like he was being released.
" I didn't. I would never. You know that you taught me how to love like this, you showed me something intense and brand new and – I love you more every day, I find new ways to fall in love with you, different forms and feels of love. This isn't about love. I love you and I always will. But – it's a lot. Between school and work and dad's health and the pack, it's been piling up for a while now and I feel like I'm drowning. I can't breathe most of the time just thinking of all the shit I have to come home to, so I don't, and it drives us further and further away from each other and – I feel like I'm failing. I've been failing you and you've been too nice to call me out for it, but – this isn't a relationship that you deserve to have, and I don't know if I have it in me to give anymore into it. I'm exhausted, Derek. And it shouldn't feel like it's draining me, not like this, not all the time."
And it was true, Stiles had no problem loving Derek, he just felt like he was being rushed through it, like he couldn't save up the time and energy and emotional capacity required to properly love him, the way he deserved to be loved. As cliché as it was, time just wasn't working in their favor, there wasn't enough of it to.
Derek sighed, falling next to Stiles, missing him, not yet ready to get used to always missing him.
" I don't know how to be without you. I don't remember how I did it before." Derek whispered, all those years he spent with Stiles seeming to play in his head, up until that very moment, where they were saying goodbye in every other way except for actually saying it. Stiles rested his head against Derek's shoulder, doing everything for the very last time.
" Tell me about it. That's young love for you, once you have it, it feels like it resets your life, things before it blur, and things after it just – "
" Suck." Derek finished for him, earning a weak snort from Stiles.
" Yeah. Things are going to suck without you, Derek."
" You've been pretty distant lately anyway. You've been without me, you know how to do it." Derek wasn't blaming Stiles, he wasn't angry at him, he just didn't feel the need to filter himself now that everything was in the open, now that it was all over. He had nothing left to lose anyway.
" I always knew that I can come back whenever I choose to. I knew you were waiting. I was such a dick, taking you for granted like that, using you to make myself feel better. I really am sorry, Derek. I just didn't know what else to do. I felt trapped, suffocated – "
" By me?"
" No, not necessarily by you, but by everything else. Everything started feeling like a pressure point, I was coiled too tightly, and it was making me angry. At you, at dad, at myself. I was angry at dad for being unwell in a time in my life where everything was already going to shit, how fucked up is that? So, I withdrew, I shut down, and I should have been more honest but I didn't know how to say it without you feeling like I was leaving you."
" But you are."
" I didn't plan to. I don't mean for it to feel that way. I just – I wish I could handle more, I wish I had less on my plate. I wish we could still do this, Derek, you have no idea. I'm going to miss everything about you, about us."
" I'm going to miss you too." Stiles' lips fell on Derek's bicep, moved upwards until they reached his neck, then his cheek, and Derek's head bowed down to keep from leaning in for a proper kiss. One more time.
" Would you change anything?"
" This part, probably. But nothing else. I loved every last bit of it. We had a good thing, Derek."
" The best."
" Yeah. We did."
" Do you think we went too far, too fast? Do you think we bet too much on this thing?"
" No, I think we bet just enough. We just – lost."
They stayed leaned against each other until Derek heard the ambulance sirens approaching. He helped Stiles to his feet, walked him to the ambulance, and got in without addressing any of what had happened. The doctors fixed Stiles up, and the sheriff pushed his way into his room a few hours later, and when he hugged Derek, he held on a bit longer, well past the point of discomfort, but Derek didn't care. Derek put his hand in the air, waving goodbye to Stiles, and none of them knew the weight behind it, even the werewolves who could smell the agony, could see the tears forming in Stiles' eyes, as the door closed behind Derek.
The sheriff came back to Beacon Hills with Scott and Cora but no Stiles. He stayed behind for a few more weeks, before running out of things to do there to further delay his return. Derek packed his things for him and left them outside the sheriff's home. He felt like an asshole, leaving without properly greeting the sheriff, but if he pushed himself any more, he would just tear at the seams, fall completely apart. He wondered if Stiles felt like that too, if he too, was struggling to feel like himself, feel anything past that loss. It was an odd concept, that they could both be spreading their pain across borders, losing and hurting in two different ends of the world. All their previous burdens seemed to be shared, divided between them, like it was them against the world, and now they each had to bear the weight of it all on their own, Derek felt like he wouldn't be able to do it. Until he did.
It started with easier, lighter breathing, less nightmares through the night, more regular sleep. Then, it was going out with his friends without leaving an empty space beside him in case Stiles decided to show up and take it all back. Then, it was dinners with the sheriff and lunches with Melissa and the name Stiles rolling off his tongue without the choking sounds that followed. He still had his moments of course, when he wanted to text Stiles and tell him he missed him and he would wait for him even if he never decided to come back, but instead he'd text him something sheriff related or pack related and tell himself it wasn't pushing it too far if he was keeping it neutral. These were need-to-know things. He could do that with Stiles without feeling like he was losing him, over and over again. Sure. They could be just friends. Totally.
But the texts started becoming further apart, and the responses weren't cautious but it wasn't them either. So, they exchanged texts for Christmases and birthdays and sometimes even on dates of traumatic events just to tell the other they were there. Derek also left him a voicemail - calling in when he knew Stiles would be sleeping just to avoid having to hear his voice and have nothing to say back - telling him how proud he was when Stiles excelled in his Masters and finally got the degree, and that was just that.
Derek started dating before Stiles, which made sense since Stiles was the one in need of time for himself, so he didn't really mind it that much. Or at least, he tried not to. He continued to dodge any situations where he might accidentally bump into Derek, not because he didn't miss him as all hell and wanted nothing more than to see him, but because if he saw him, he didn't know if he'd be able to walk away again. But two years after the break-up, it was Cora's wedding, and Stiles couldn't sleep for maybe a week before that. He saw Derek before Derek saw him, but when they connected eyes, Derek lifted his hand, waving in the air, and it felt familiar, like something Stiles had seen in a dream. Only, it wasn't a dream. Derek had waved at him like that, the last time he'd walked away from him. There was an irony there that Stiles couldn't quite appreciate yet, as he waved back, and disappeared into the crowd. Derek ended up finding him again during the reception, after losing the tie and the jacket and loosening the buttons of the vest and shirt. He looked like he had a few drinks, and Stiles did too, and they fell into the most comfortable conversation they'd had, maybe ever, definitely since the sheriff's heart attack. Derek talked and talked like he was trying to compress the last few years into his words and give them all to Stiles, like he wanted Stiles to know everything. And every time Stiles tried to remind Derek that he had a date for the night that was probably looking for him, he'd completely disregard it, push through his story like it was the only thing that mattered. So, when Stiles put his hands to his cheeks and held his face to take him in, to trace all the changes in him that he'd missed, Derek leaned in for a kiss and Stiles gave it to him, and there was little to no regret between them. Derek was still looking at Stiles like nothing had changed, like he still loved him the same, as he explained that Cora had forced Derek to not come alone so he asked the bartender from the bar where he had his last birthday to come with for free booze and good food. Stiles kissed him again then, just because he could.
" Are you back? For good?" Stiles couldn't believe that Derek would be willing to let him in again, to take him back, just like that. He didn't know what he did to deserve this kind of loving.
" I still have to occasionally go to New York to help out with FBI cases, and – "
" No, Stiles, I don't mean Beacon Hills, I mean, back to this? To me? Because I can't do this loving and losing thing again, regardless of how much I miss you. I'm already loving, I'm always going to be loving, but it's the losing part that I just – can't go through again. So, if you still have a lot on your plate, then that's fine, you go back to what you're doing, and I will too, and this will be a one-time thing, but if not, then, I'll build the hell out of this thing with you, and I won't push for more and – " Derek could see it in Stiles, all the ways he'd changed, all the betterment he'd found for himself. He could tell that he'd needed the time and space, it'd done him good, and he wouldn't want to take that away from him. But he wished it'd taken him less time, he wished he'd come back to him already.
" You'd want that? With me? You'd want to try this again?" Derek blinked at Stiles' absurd question, like he couldn't quite understand.
" What part of it all starts and ends with you do you not understand, Stiles? I'm all in. I've been all in, I was just waiting for you to catch up." Derek shrugged, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Stiles snorted, melted against Derek's side and kissed the side of his neck. So ironic, to have the start look so much like the end, yet feel so incredibly different.
" Alright, then. Want to go on a date tomorrow?"
" Why tomorrow? Why not now?"
" Now? Your sister is getting married, Derek."
" My sister is already married, give her like an hour and she'll get over this whole thing real quick and want to go home. Then, we can go for some ice-cream? I have so much to tell you."
" I have so much to tell you too. Sorry it took me so long."
" It's okay. You're here now."
" And I'm going to be here, from now on, I'm always going to be here, with you, okay?"
" Yeah, okay. I believe you."