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It had been 4 years of coming home to arms so willing to love and hold and need, and it still caught Stiles completely off guard, brought him so close to tears he started doubting if he'd ever known happiness before, if anything he'd felt for anyone other than the little girl he had with Derek could be called love. And that day, he was exhausted in ways he couldn't shake, but as soon as he opened the door, she was wrapped around him, and he loved her a little more, cared for everything else a little less.
" Hey sweetheart, I missed you so much." He whispered into her hair, dropping everything in his hands just to cling onto her.
" I missed you too. Dad is in the kitchen, but I don't think he's feeling okay."
" No? Why do you think that?" He moved most of her weight to rest against his left thigh, using his other hand to take off his jacket.
" I don't know, he's being really quiet."
" Your dad? Quiet? That's shocking." Stiles feigned surprise, earning a giggle from his daughter.
" Don't make fun of my dad." She jokingly threatened.
" Hey, I'm your dad too."
" Yeah, I know, and I love you," She planted a loud kiss onto his cheek, holding their heads together, " Now, put me down because dad said I had to freshen up if I wanted to have dinner, and I'm hungry." He went in for a quick kiss right as she started thrashing around and lovingly pushing against him. So, he put her down, and found his way to the kitchen, where Derek was sitting on a bar stool, with his elbows rested against the kitchen table, and his head bowed down like it was heavy, like he was carrying something he couldn't bear the weight of. Stiles hadn't seen him like that in a long time, he'd almost forgotten how it looked on him, to be so sad, so... defeated.
" Hey, handsome." Stiles leaned in for a kiss, his hand on Derek's cheek in silent consolation.
" Hey. How was your day?" Derek kissed back, momentarily lightening up, as he circled his arms around Stiles' waist, resting his head against his chest.
" Good. Tiring but it was good. What about yours? Everything went okay with the little one?"
" She's great. You know I love spending time with her." Derek stood, walked back towards the oven, as if reminded that he still had a role to carry out, a space to fill, regardless of how wrong everything felt to him.
" I would be jealous if seeing you with her wasn't the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life." Stiles started tasting everything that was on the stove, immediately whining about how hot it was – which was the whole point of stoves but Derek was far too out of it to hold it against him.
" We have that thing with Scott tonight. Are you still up for it?" Stiles questioned, noting the hesitancy in Derek's features, the instantaneous anxiety that came with the suggestion of being around people, leaving the house and doing stuff, when he was struggling to exist within himself.
" Sure. Whatever you want to do." Derek shrugged, knowing how happy his time with Scott made him, how much he needed to maintain that connection with the life he had before everything changed. Whether that change was for the better or not, Derek wasn't sure anymore. Everything kind of felt like it was worse than it had been in a while.
" Are you sure – " Stiles put a hand against Derek's back, but he kind of dodged it.
" Dinner is ready. I think I'm going to take a nap while you two eat. Wake me up when you're ready to go." Derek walked out of the kitchen before Stiles could ask him to stay or question his eating habits. Margot – their daughter – was running down the stairs when he was headed to their bedroom, and he patted her hair, tried to smile for her if only to keep from crying. The last thing he heard before he closed the bedroom door was Margot chanting for food and Stiles warning her that she'd burn her mouth if she ate too fast. She did it anyway and then whined about it. She was definitely her father's daughter.
Derek didn't know how long he'd slept, before Stiles was brushing his fingers through his hair, sliding them down his face, resting them against his chest and tapping along to his heartbeat. Derek didn't really speak, just let himself be touched by Stiles. He was still so fucking tired.
" Want to tell me what's going on with you, Derek?"
" I'm okay. When do we need to leave to Scott's?"
" I called and told him we won't be able to make it."
" Why not?"
" Because I can tell you're going through something. And you've been trying really hard to keep it to yourself, but I don't want you to. You're my husband and I love you and you never have to do anything alone ever again." Derek blinked, looking up at Stiles' features, everything about him aching with the need to be trusted, to be let in. Derek wondered what he'd ever done to deserve to be looked at like that. He turned on his side, his back touching Stiles' front, Stiles' arms still surrounding him, his grip barely wavering at all.
" I love you too." Derek whispered.
" I know you do." Stiles rested his chin against Derek's shoulder, wanting to be felt.
" Where is Margot?"
" I drove her to my dad's. She's staying there for the night. Maybe for a bit longer than that, depending on how we're feeling tomorrow. For now though, it's just you and me. All alone. Together." The we in Stiles' words almost brought Derek to tears. Everything felt like it could these days.
" I don't know what's wrong." Derek admitted, squeezing his eyes shut like something was hurting. Like everything was.
" You trust me, right? You know that nothing you choose to tell me will ever change how I feel about you. You've got me, forever. And I've got you, Derek."
" I know," Derek hiccupped, choking on a cry that so desperately wanted out, " I shouldn't feel like this. I – you're great and we have Margot and I – I have so many good people in my life, things are perfect and – I'm so fucking overwhelmed, I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know what's wrong with me, I just – I'm sorry, Stiles, I – " And Derek – ever so strong – fell so viciously apart. It was something Stiles never thought he'd have to see. He hated everything about it.
" Hey, it's okay, you don't have to have a reason to feel sad, Derek. I know you love us, I know you're grateful for everything you have, what you're feeling now doesn't take away from that. Just – breathe for me, babe, and we'll talk it all through. It's going to be okay. I love you so much, Derek."
So Derek cried and cried, feeling like he'd never be able to stop, like it'd never end. Every sound pulled out of him sounded worse than the last. It was stuff out of nightmares. Stiles didn't know if he'd ever stop hearing it, if he'd hear anything that wouldn't sound like Derek unraveling. Gradually though, like a long-awaited release, his cries turned into distant sniffles, his heart skipped less beats, settling into a somewhat healthy pace.
Stiles only let go to turn off the lights, noticing him wincing weakly when he tried to open his eyes, like his head was pounding with the residue of his coming apart. Derek melted into him as soon as he was laying back in bed, kissing the palm of the hand he held between his own.
" Do you want to get some sleep?"
" I haven't been sleeping that well lately. I either want to sleep through the day, or I'm having nightmares that keep me up all night."
" Your nightmares are back? Why didn't you say anything before, Derek?" Stiles wasn't mad, he didn't blame Derek, he just kind of hated how he hadn't noticed this when it'd started happening. He hated the thought of Derek carrying all that so bravely, so silently.
" I thought they'd go away on their own. I was – I was embarrassed, I guess? I don't know. I didn't know how to navigate it, and I – I felt bad all the time and didn’t know why, which made me feel even worse about everything and I didn't want to dump that on you. Or I – didn't really know how to." Stiles sighed, burying his nose in Derek's hair, breathing him in.
" I get it. I – you know I've been dealing with anxiety and depression for a longass time, and I know how insane it can feel at times, so I understand. Depression isn't the same for everyone and how it feels to you doesn't have to match up with how it feels to me, and that's totally fine. You can share as little or as much as you want to, it doesn't have to make sense to me, if it does to you. I just want to be there for you. You can tell me anything, I won't love you one bit less. I promise. I love every part of who you are, Derek. All of it. Forever." Derek could have cried some more, if he wasn't trying so hard to keep it together.
" I don’t deserve you."
" Sure you do. You deserve everything good in the world, Derek."
" Is it – like that? For you too?"
" What? The self-doubt and the paralyzing fear of not being enough and disappointing everyone I care about? Dude, that’s my teenage years in a nutshell."
" I hate it when you call me dude." Derek rolled his eyes, settling on his back, if only to have a better view of Stiles.
" Look at you, emoting and everything." Stiles joked, earning himself another eye-roll from Derek.
" Is it better now? Does it still feel like that?"
" Not always. It's definitely gotten better. But, there are still days when I hide in the bathroom at work to not have a complete meltdown in front of everyone. Or I spend too long in the shower because I can't physically get my body to move. Or I worry myself sick over Margot because there are too many things that could wrong, too many ways for me to fuck her up for the rest of her life. Most days though, I feel like I have everything I need, like things can't possibly go wrong. And then they do."
" I'm sorry. I feel like I haven't done enough to – "
" You have. You do. You're the best fucking husband anyone could ask for. Besides, this is about you for now. It can sometimes be about you, Derek. It's okay." Derek buried his face in Stiles' chest, hummed like he was getting comfortable.
" I love you."
" I love you too. Do you think I should see someone? You know, like, therapy."
" Would that be something you'd feel comfortable trying?"
" I don't really know. But I don't think I can keep doing things the way I have been. It's exhausting and – Margot deserves more from me. You do too."
" You deserve not to feel exhausted all the time. If you choose to do this, do it for yourself."
" And for you. And Margot. I would do anything for you."
" I know you would. We're so lucky to have you." Derek squeezed Stiles, hoping he'd understand what he didn't have the words for.
" What if they tell me to go on meds?"
" What if they do?"
" The side effects of that, I hear things can get quite ugly and you can get hooked for life, and I – "
" I take meds for ADHD and anxiety. I used to take stuff for depression too, but I slowly eased off them. I still have them in the cabinet, just in case. Sure, it took a bit of trial-and-error at first but I got there eventually. I'm not saying you have to agree if they suggest going on medication, I'm saying you can. It doesn't take away from you. You won't be any less you. But I'll support you either way. I've got your back."
" And I've got yours. Always. I don't want you to shelf anything you go through for my sake. I want to be there too and I can be. I don't care how bad things are for me, don't hide from me, okay?"
" I would never. Promise."
" What about Margot? What will we tell her?"
" That's all you, babe. You take the lead on this, and I'll follow."
" Do you think – I mean, I read that kids with mental health problems running in their family, are more likely to suffer from them too, and – "
" Derek. I had 2 perfectly healthy parents, mentally at least, and I still struggled a lot. Just because she's ours, doesn't mean we'll fuck her up. And maybe we will, maybe something else will, who knows. For now, we have a perfectly healthy child who adores us for all that we are. Just try to enjoy it while it lasts, because teenage years she's going to hate our guts."
" Stop, she's never going to grow up, she's my little baby." Derek groaned, his voice vibrating off Stiles' chest, tickling him slightly.
" Yeah, well. One battle at a time."
They stayed like that for the rest of the night, drinking each other up, whispering like they were pouring out all their secrets, baring their souls. Derek slept through the night for the first time in a month. Stiles struggled a bit because he was too busy creepily watching Derek sleep, fascinated and protective and so in love. Derek woke up before him, contemplated staying in bed, but willed himself to go to the bathroom, shower and make coffee, before crawling back to the safety of his bed, of Stiles. When Stiles woke up, he asked Derek if he was up for some breakfast. He considered it for a few minutes, before shaking his head, admitting that he didn't feel like leaving their bed for the day, which was totally fine with Stiles. Around 6 pm, Stiles ordered them some pizza, and they ate in bed, before deciding to make an appointment for Derek to visit his first therapist. They asked the sheriff to keep Margot entertained for that night too, and the night that followed, but then they missed her too much and drove there to get her. But Derek's little energy was drained out of him, so they spent the night at the sheriff's, all 4 of them sleeping in Stiles' old bed.
Derek's first session went about as catastrophically as it possibly could have. He hated his therapist because she asked all the wrong questions and gave him odd looks every time he attempted scratching the surface of what he was truly feeling. He skipped his second appointment and by his third, he was ready to change therapists. So, Stiles spent the weekend looking up recommended therapists in their area, until he found one that Derek actually enjoyed speaking to. Almost, looked forward to visiting. He wasn't put on meds until he had a rather severe depressive episode, where he became so detached, he was unresponsive no matter how much Stiles begged and pleaded for him to say something, react in any way. Meds worked for him though, and he became more like himself than he'd ever felt. Stiles almost cried with pride every time he heard Derek laugh like he used to; all bright and loud and fearless. He still had his days though, weeks even. So did Stiles. And sometimes it felt like their life was one depressive episode after the other, separated by a few, brief, naïve moments of peace, but those moments made everything worth it. Gave them what they needed to get through the depressive episode that they knew would follow. It wasn't perfect or easy, but every time they cried themselves raw, they knew they would open their eyes and they would still be surrounded with so much love, so many people to love, and they learned all the ways for that to be enough. At least most of the time.