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“ You need to get out of here.” Derek stepped in front of Stiles, both arms spread open in an attempt to contain him, shield him.
“ What? No, I am not going to leave him. Dad, come on, it’s me, please just – are you okay? Talk to me.” Stiles was trying to move around Derek, push past him, but Derek wasn’t having any of it, seeing something unsettling across the sheriff’s features.
Deaton had called everyone to the Hale residence; sensing something threatening coming into Beacon Hills. He didn’t know what exactly, it just felt dark and heavy, like a storm of something they wouldn’t be able to control. Stiles and Lydia were doing their research when the sheriff showed up – uninvited – looking like something that was weathering away. His skin was ashy, greying like it was about to peel off him, his eyes so red, it reached the pupils. Even his voice was distorted, like someone was speaking through him. Derek and Scott were the first ones to jump to action; his altered scent hitting them. It smelled like he wasn’t even there at all.
“ Your dad isn’t here anymore, kid, I’m afraid.” The.. thing wearing the sheriff’s body as a suit spoke, ruby eyes lifting from the ground, smirk spread across his lips. Scott let his arms fall beside him, stepped away from what he still hoped would be the sheriff but very clearly wasn’t.
“ Wh – what? What do you mean? Dad.” Stiles whined, urgent and needy. No recognition crossed the sheriff’s eyes.
“ I will give you a few hints until everyone here can catch up to what happened.” The sheriff looked at each of them, stopped at Deaton for a beat too long before looking away.
“ You see, I am a creature that lives in dark, secluded places. I am usually harmless, until someone comes into my territory. You remember, right, Stiles? The night that the sheriff spent in the abandoned farm miles and miles to the South? With all signs of civilization in his rearview mirror?” Stiles managed to escape Derek’s protective grasp, standing beside him.
“ After those robberies around town, yeah. They found most of what was stolen buried around that farm, as well as the body of one of the bad guys. Apparently, the rest turned on him but he never told me why.”
“ Yeah, well, that’s not all they found. Your dad went roaming around until he ended up in the greenhouse; where I was. I am a creature that feeds on anger and fear and all this good stuff, and your dad was reeking of it. I don’t usually go for humans, especially when they are older, they don’t.. last. They’re mostly useless. But once I got inside his head, it was like I hit jackpot. Who would have thought this kind-looking, old man would have so much baggage?” The sheriff was moving, circling around them like they were his prey. Like he had them right where he wanted them. A chill went through Derek’s body as he followed the sheriff’s motion, his hand instinctively brushing against Stiles to make sure he was close enough to protect if necessary.
“ That was a week ago. You’re telling me you’ve been possessing him for this long and no one noticed?” Lydia questioned, eyebrows furrowed. Her firm and unbothered exterior still intact, although she took a few steps towards the circle of her friends, needing something of support.
“ Oh Stiles noticed. Parrish did too. But being the sheriff has its perks; I could send you on little missions here and there. Leave you fruitless clues. So, you go chasing your tails while I decide what I want to do next. Once doc noticed something shifting in the equilibrium of this town, I knew I was running out of time. This vessel wouldn’t have lasted me much longer anyway.”
“ Is he going to die?” Scott spoke, when Stiles’ lips parted but no words came out.
“ Probably. He had to make room for me when I came in, but his body is breaking apart all around me. I don’t think there’s much left.”
“ This – this can’t be right. Dad, if you’re in there, you gotta fight this. Please, I know it’s – I know you’re scared and – “
“ Oh kid, you know better than anyone that he doesn’t stand a chance. You know, he thought of the nogitsune right when I took over. He thinks about it a lot, but maybe when he sensed someone taking him over, the memory seemed more relevant. He remembers everything, Stiles. He told Parrish the other day when you went two days without sleep that he doesn’t know how to be sure it’s still you. That he’s scared he will miss it again and it wouldn’t be his son who is living under his roof. Do you know that when he had to work on Allison’s case, he contemplated reporting you himself? Can you imagine the internal turmoil you put him through, where he had to choose between his integrity and you? He wishes he’d let Chris kill you that day in the loft before you got his daughter killed. The residual bitterness is still all over him, you just don’t see it. Want to bet that if I get inside him next, I will find the same thing? Only probably, much worse.” The sheriff tilted his head towards Scott before turning back to Stiles. A choked sound of something sad and broken fell past Stiles’ lips, turning to his friend, and wanting to apologize until it stopped hurting. Until Scott stopped wearing the loss on his face.
“ No, Stiles, that’s not true. I don’t – I don’t think like that. And I’m sure your dad doesn’t either, okay?” Scott inched closer, wanting to comfort and to sooth, but he knew that there were more important things on the line. Like the sheriff’s livelihood.
“ I’m sorry.” It had been years since the nogitsune, but Stiles didn’t think he would ever stop being sorry.
“ I know, buddy, I know. It’s not your fault. We’ve been over this, nobody blames you for it.”
“ Oh but he does. You know what else he blames you for? Everything.” The sheriff’s voice was guttural, threatening, as he launched himself at Stiles, pushed him to the ground and fell on top of him. Derek went to throw him away, but Scott stopped him, told him that this was still the sheriff’s body, that they couldn’t hurt him.
“ He blames you for your mom. For everything that happened since. He thinks about how it could have been if you were the one who died and likes it. When you told him about werewolves then said that your mom would have believed you, he wished he didn’t have to be your parent. Every day, Stiles, he is pissed that he ended up with you. Every damn day.” Derek had enough, shifted and almost clawed the sheriff off Stiles, when Jackson scratched the back of the sheriff’s neck, and he dropped all his dead weight onto Stiles. Derek lifted the sheriff off Stiles, turned him onto his back, while Scott helped his friend back up to his feet. Stiles’ eyes were drowned in tears that he was desperately trying to blink away, his face crumbling onto itself with something like devastation. Scott pulled him into his arms, wished he could wipe away the imprint of the sheriff’s words that he could almost physically see on Stiles.
“ I’m fine, I’m okay. We just – we need to help him.” Stiles patted Scott’s back like he was the one breaking so far apart. Scott pulled away, let Stiles’ hands rest against his waist, as Jackson and Derek helped the sheriff to a chair.
“ He hates himself too. He feels like a shitty father because of the way you turned out to be. He sometimes slips and drinks himself to sleep again. He did it the day before he came to the farm; which is why he was unreasonably angry at himself that day. I think you had a little fight too, over college? He’s been waiting for years, since your mom died, for you to leave for college. Because he wanted to be something other than Stiles’ dad. He wanted space for himself, time where he wouldn’t have to worry about you doing something stupid and getting yourself killed. And then you were suggesting taking a gap year? Then studying something close by where you would be able to stay at home? He almost told you that he didn’t want that, didn’t want you. He is loyal to you, devoted because he feels like he owes it to your mom, but God, does he hate you sometimes. He hates everything about his life. He never even wanted kids, but his wife wanted to be a mom, so they had you, and then he got stuck with you.”
The sheriff’s head hung over the back of the chair, all his limbs loose and boneless, but his mouth was still viciously tearing through Stiles. Stiles stood there, nodding along like he deserved it. Like he’d always known it to be true. Derek groaned, tore through his own shirt and used the fabric to silence the sheriff completely.
“ That’s enough. Deaton, do we know what this thing is and how to get it out of the sheriff?” Derek walked around Stiles, towards Deaton.
“ I think I have an idea. Miss Martin might be able to help me out with the details. It’s called the Brollachan. It is part of the Scottish folklore; an ancient myth that is seemingly coming to life right in front of us.”
“ I’ve read about this before, there just hasn’t been any recent encounters. Not within the last nine or so decades.” Lydia searched through her purse, retrieved an iPad where she seemingly had folders of every creature she’d researched.
While everyone was collecting around Lydia, Stiles was diverting away from the group, walking towards his dad. The man that had his dad’s face but nothing else. His dad never would have said the things that this man did. He never would have looked at him like – like he truly loathed him. Like he wanted nothing to do with him. His dad loved him. He had to believe that he did. He showed him repeatedly that he did, but now, Stiles was starting to doubt if it had ever been love at all.
“ Dad,” Stiles lifted his trembling hand, laid it against the sheriff’s cheek. The sheriff couldn’t move his head enough to be able to face Stiles, so Stiles took his face in his hands, tilted his head until he couldn’t look at anything but Stiles. “ I’m sorry, dad. I – I’m so sorry. I would do anything to take it all back. To fix it for you. And – I will, okay? I will fix this. You just hang in there. I love you, so much, dad and I’m sorry it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. I’ll do better. I promise I’ll be the best kid you’ve ever seen, I just – I’m sorry it was her and not me too.” He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t his dad staring blankly back at him, his features unmoving, like he agreed. Stiles shook his head, ran his fingers through his dad’s hair and leaned down to leave a kiss by his hairline. He didn’t know if he was kissing him goodbye, if these final words would be all he was left with, if he would be remembered as the boy whose dad couldn’t even love him.
Stiles cleared his throat, wiped his face down when he felt like he was going under, before walking to where his friends were. They stepped back, made room for him. Lydia paused, almost asked Stiles if he was feeling okay, but the look on his face told her not to. Told her that he wouldn’t know how to answer without tearing at the seams, so she looked back down on her iPad, relaying the information she had.
“ It hates fire and light in general, which is probably why you’ll find it in more secluded areas, like that farm. Explains why the sheriff showed up here; this is as secluded as it gets. It’s quiet and dark and there’s nothing in the surrounding area, not for tens of miles.”
“ But light can’t be that bad, since the sheriff went to his morning shifts as per usual even with this.. thing inside him.” Scott said, taking a single step closer to Stiles without having to say anything about it.
“ From my understanding, the scale and intensity of the elements matter. So, it can’t be a camp fire or a bit of sunshine. It needs to be grueling and severe for it to force the Brollachan out of the sheriff.” Deaton intervened, calm and collected, the way he always seemed to be.
“ The sheriff is human. He has no super healing powers or – how are we supposed to expose him to unbearable circumstances and expect him to make it through? He could die before that thing ever leaves his body.” Scott looked at Stiles like he was expecting him to agree – to fight. Stiles didn’t think he had it in him, couldn’t even remember whose side he was in. He should be fighting for his dad but he felt like he was fighting against him too. Like he had to fight those words still echoing in his head in order to get to the point where he could fight for his dad and not just roll into a ball and die along with him.
“ Unfortunately, that is a risk we have to take. I’m afraid we don’t have many options. If we wait, the Brollachan will dry the sheriff out completely, leave his body only when he is dead, and then move into any one of us. Humans, werewolves, kanimas, it does not care. We are all equally as vulnerable.”
“ A risk we have to take? I don’t have to do anything. I shouldn’t fucking have to. Wasn’t it your job to keep this from happening again? I mean, even after the nogitsune, this is still fucking happening? Didn’t you promise me in your goddamn clinic that we have taken all precautions and that we won’t have to go through this shit again?” Everyone fell silent when Stiles lifted an accusing hand and directed it towards Deaton. His voice was shaky, like he was holding something back, trying not to unleash everything all at once. Deaton barely seemed fazed at all.
“ This is the first time I have seen this creature for myself, Mr. Stilinski. I can assure you, all precautions were taken against the nogitsune and all similar creatures. This one, unfortunately, wasn’t on that list.”
“ So, now what? You expect me to greenlight this plan to set my dad on fire and see what comes out of it?”
“ I don’t like this any more than you do, Mr. Stilinski.”
“ Whatever, man. I need a minute.” Stiles turned to step away, everyone immediately having something to say about it. “ I said give me a fucking minute, Jesus Christ.”
Stiles didn’t look at his dad at all, as he walked out of the Hale residence, sitting by the stairs with his head buried between his knees. He thought of his mother, how she looked right before she died. He remembered when she almost threw herself off the roof of the hospital, crying out how Stiles was going to kill her, how scared she was of him, of what he wanted to do to her. He remembered his dad defending him that night, being so worried that he heard those words and would carry them forever. His dad let him cry himself raw, until he passed out in his arms. He didn’t move until Stiles started stirring awake the next morning. He didn’t care about the shift he had or how his wife probably needed him too. He cared about Stiles. And now – Stiles didn’t know if he would anymore. Didn’t know if his dad would come out of this the same. If he would love him the same. If he’d ever loved him at all.
Stiles knew what being possessed felt like. He knew about making it out of something and wishing you hadn’t. He knew the guilt and the emptiness and the unsettling feeling like he didn’t belong in his own body anymore. Like nothing was his and everything was detached and fake. Even after all those years, most days, he still felt just like that. Like they had just gotten the nogitsune out of him. He knew his dad was strong but – strong enough to beat this? To make it through surviving this? Stiles just didn’t know. He wished it was him. He wished it was him who’d gotten the dementia. He wished it was him who’d died and left his father a broken shell of a man. He wished it was him the Brollachan had possessed. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t have made it out at all.
“ It’s not true, you know.” Stiles startled, turned around so fast, it felt like he pulled a muscle or two. Derek was standing by the door, arms crossed against his chest.
“ What are you talking about?”
“ What that Brollachan said. You know your dad would never think that.”
“ You don’t know that.”
“ Yes. I do. And you do too.”
“ Do I? Because he sounded pretty convincing in there.” Stiles sat back the way he was, with his back towards the house. Derek sighed, dropped beside him, with enough space for another person between them.
“ It’s not him.”
“ I know that. I know that my dad wouldn’t say – he wouldn’t ever say this shit to my face. But would he think it? Maybe. Does he have every right to? Definitely.”
“ Stiles,” Derek groaned, having stopped himself from having this conversation with Stiles so many times before because it always felt like it wasn’t his place. Like his words wouldn’t count for much. Like there was nothing for him to do or say to help Stiles.
“ Remember that day at the station? Right after the nogitsune had separated from you and took Lydia? When Scott told your dad that it was you, finally? You remember the look on your dad’s face? How about the day you crashed your Jeep and still managed to save everybody from being sacrificed? Or the time you thought you were actually sick and your dad looked like a man tearing at the seams? That is your dad, Stiles. That is the love he has for you. When, uh, after Aiden died, I was wrecked. I felt like a failure. Like I’ve let someone else down, put someone else through – the kind of loss that you never come back from the same. But I looked at your dad when we took you home that night and – I can’t say it made it all worth it because Aiden didn’t deserve to go out like that but – you could tell it was worth it to him. You could tell he didn’t give a fuck about anything else because you were safe.” Stiles shuddered, aching to remember that side of the story, instead of all the blood he shed. All the blood he could still sometimes see, when he was somewhere between a nightmare and reality. Almost waking up but not quite.
“ I don’t know if I would have had that type of love, Stiles. I – I never got the chance to find out if my parents would be able to love me through some of the shit I did. But – you do. You have an incredible dad who loves nothing more in the world than you. You said he killed the ghost of your mom when it had you by the neck, right? What makes you think he would ever make a different choice? If it’s you against anything or anyone else, ten times out of ten, your dad will choose you. I have no doubts about it.” Stiles looked up at Derek, tears flooding his eyes.
“ You’re telling me all of this and then I’m supposed to let them set him on fire? How – what the fuck am I meant to do here?”
“ You’re not going to set him on fire. We’re setting the house on fire.”
“ What?”
“ It burned down once before, and he’s already here, so.” Derek stood up, and Stiles had no choice but to follow.
“ Derek, what the hell are you talking about? You – how is this even going to work? It doesn’t matter where he is, my dad can not survive an actual fire.”
“ I am going to be in there with him. We’ll set the house on fire, wait till it’s hot enough to drive the Brollachan out, then I will get your dad out of there.”
“ What if it possesses you next?”
“ I can handle more heat than your dad. I’ll stay in there until I make sure it completely went away. And if it takes too long, then I will just let the house burn around it and get out.”
“ Are you hearing yourself? Derek, come on, dude, you can’t just stay in a burning house until you can’t anymore. I can’t ask that of you.”
“ You’re not asking, Stiles.” Derek turned to go back into the house, but Stiles’ fingers wrapped around his wrest, tightened as far as they would go. Derek paused, turned back to Stiles, his eyes moving between his gripped hand and Stiles’ eyes. Derek was almost trying to direct Stiles’ attention to their hands, in case he wasn’t aware of his actions, or what they could potentially mean.
“ You watched your house burn down once. I can’t put you through this again. This is – cruel, Derek. It’s not fair.” Derek stepped closer to Stiles, almost touched but stopped himself.
“ None of what’s happening is fair. I won’t let you lose your dad, Stiles. This time, only the house will burn. No one else.” Stiles shook his head, felt himself almost cry, as he wrapped himself around Derek, buried whatever was seeping through, into his shoulder.
“ I am so sorry, Derek.”
“ You have nothing to be sorry for, stop apologizing and let’s save your dad.” Derek held back until he felt like if he did it any longer, he would never be able to pull away. Derek smiled at Stiles like he was saying goodbye, before disappearing back into the house, giving him a few minutes to get himself together before he was able to face the crowd again.
“ Derek told me the plan, and I hate it, but it’s the best we could come up with. So, are we really doing this?” Stiles looked between his friends, receiving nods and shrugs in response.
“ I’m going to stay in the house with them.”
“ What? Stiles – “
“ He is my dad. And as gracious as Derek is being about everything, I am not letting him do this by himself. I’m staying.”
“ You can’t do this. Your dad wouldn’t want you to.” Scott gripped Stiles’ arms, started shaking him a little.
“ He also wouldn’t want to be possessed by some Scottish mythical creature but here we are.”
“ Stiles, you just said that we shouldn’t give it options of vessels to overtake once it’s out of the sheriff. You’re human and you’re more emotional than usual, so you would be vulnerable.” Derek spoke, softer than he would normally be, like he was barely making a suggestion, not an order at all.
“ Everyone here is vulnerable, Derek.”
“ True but – “
“ I am not leaving my dad behind. And I’m not letting Derek go through this alone. If we’re going to do this, I am going to be here for all of it, no matter what happens next.”
“ I’ll be fine. And I won’t let anything happen to your dad, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Derek promised, assured. Stiles barely smiled, like he didn’t quite believe him.
“ I trust you. I know you’ll do all you can for my dad and for me. And I will do the same. For my dad and – for you.” Derek breathed in a whispered inhale, that could have turned into a gasp, if Deaton didn’t clear his throat, take a step out of the shadows and into the crowd.
“ Very well. A few precautions to be taken; do not taunt it, if it gets angry, it has magical powers so it can cast spells or curses and we wouldn’t have the time or resources to stop it. Brollachans also have families, they aren’t individualistic creatures. So, let’s get rid of this one without giving any more of them reason to take over our town.”
“ Sounds like a plan.”
“ I will stay with you, to insure the exorcism goes smoothly and act if anything goes south.” Deaton said, nodding at Derek before going to gather any ingredients he may need.
“ Stiles,” Scott sighed, almost started down another argument over Stiles staying in the house, but Stiles threw his arms around him, held him like years hadn’t passed at all. Like they were still children with no clear understanding of all the things that were about to go terribly wrong in their lives.
“ I need to do this, okay? I’ll be alright. Don’t worry. But if anything goes wrong, you can’t – you have to do all you can to save my dad and Derek. Save everybody. Don’t let anyone die for me again, Scott.”
“ Stop saying that. You would die for any of us, you’re my best friend, Stiles. My brother. And you’re pack. No one is dying here today. I swear if you don’t come out of this house in one piece, I will never forgive you. I don’t usually hold grudges but I will this time, okay? Don’t make me lose you too.” Stiles nodded against Scott’s shoulder, felt his fingers tug at his neck, before he completely detached himself.
“ We’ll be right outside. If anything goes wrong, we’ll call the whole thing off.” Scott warned Derek, who silently nodded, knowing that if anything was to go wrong, they wouldn’t have the time to call anything off. It would all be too late. Lydia, Jackson, Malia, and Isaac all said their goodbyes, following Scott out of the house. Deaton formed a circle around the sheriff’s chair, moved everything too flammable away from it, before putting himself with Stiles and Derek inside a similar circle.
“ Those should keep the fire from getting to us.” Deaton explained, before standing up from his crouched position. He stepped out, took the piece of Derek’s shirt out of the sheriff’s mouth, before nodding to Derek that he could start the fire when he was ready. He took a shaky breath in, throwing a lit match onto the wooden floor of his family house, and watched the flames strip it slowly away from everything that made it a home. Again. Only this time, he was right in the middle of it all, not watching from the outside unable to get in. Derek wasn’t sure which was worse. But this felt like something out of his worst nightmares.
“ Stiles! Are you going to do this to me? Your own father? You’ll let them burn me alive?” Stiles was instantly moving, almost breaking the circle, but Derek put a hand to his chest, stopped him.
“ Dad, it’s okay, nothing is going to happen to you.”
“ You’re going to kill me too? Stiles, I – you’ll be just like Derek. He let his family burn and now you’re doing the same to me. You’re just like him, Stiles. You’re no better.” Something animalistic and inhuman fell past Derek’s lips. It sounded like agony. Like something was dying inside him.
“ Derek is a good man. I – I would be lucky if I was anything like him.” Stiles found the hand that was closest to him, held it down until Derek stopped looking like he could go feral at any given moment.
“ You’re every bit as pathetic as I think you are.” The sheriff scoffed, regaining control over his neck, as he tilted his head towards Stiles. “ You want to be like him? What good has he brought into the world? What would he be leaving behind? A trail of dead bodies and ruins that lead straight to him. He got his own family killed. And he didn’t stop disappointing people there. He fell in love with a hunter, then a darach. Making one bad decision after the other. Desperate for any kind of love that he would take it from the lowest of the low. He is weak. He is – “
“ Hey, stop. My dad would never say that about Derek. He loves him, I know he does.” Stiles was frantic, wanting to reach out to stop this thing wearing his dad’s face from tearing through Derek anymore, while also wanting to wipe that crumbling of Derek’s face all away.
“ You can’t believe what he’s saying, Derek. He doesn’t mean it. You – you’re not what he says you are. It wasn’t your fault.”
“ It doesn’t matter. Why the hell isn’t it working?” The floors were crackling beneath them, making that sound like it was about to fall away. The staircase completely turned to ash. Same for the basement, Derek assumed. The basement that had burned down all around his family, then took them along. The walls that he spent months rebuilding and repainting, were all blackened by the smoke, making room for all that fire that they were never able to contain.
“ I am not sure.” Deaton honestly responded, eyes firmly watching the sheriff, as he thrashed around like a fish out of water, like he was caught somewhere between escaping and latching on. Sounds like nothing any of them heard before were released into the air, echoing along with the fire as it took pieces of Derek’s home away. No one could tell which was worse. Stiles put both hands over his ears, knowing that he would never be able to shake the sound of his dad so wounded and agonized. He squeezed his eyes shut, willed himself to breathe through it. He just had to ride this out.
But his dad was screaming, wailing out and pleading for Stiles’ help. For some sort of release. Stiles felt like his dad had been making those same sounds for years now, since his wife was ripped out of his hands, and he was left with a heart that would never fit quite right and a son that he didn’t know what to do with. Didn’t know how to love, past the panic attacks and the ADHD and the inability to pause, even when all the sheriff needed was a single moment. A moment to catch his breath, to keep up, Stiles never could give him that. He was always moving, always running and pushing and shoving his way into things that didn’t concern him. He almost cost him his job at one point too. Stiles took everything from the sheriff, and he never stopped taking. Even now, he was willing to put him through all of this, just so that he wouldn’t have to live without his dad. So what if the sheriff was never himself again? So what if he spent the rest of his life feeling wrong, like he no longer belonged? So what if the trauma followed him like a shadow and he continued to be scared, forever?
When Stiles started dropping to his knees, curved with the weight of it all, Derek put his own hands over Stiles’, buried his head into his chest and fell with him. He was trying to muffle more of those sounds out, wishing so desperately that he could spare him somehow. Could hear them for him and let them haunt him instead. Derek was sure they still would anyway. It was hard to forget something like this.
“ Do something!” Derek roared, sounding like he was on the verge of clawing everyone open and then himself.
“ I think the fire is meant to drive the Brollachan away once it is without a vessel. I am not sure it can exorcise it, which is why it isn’t helpful in our case.”
“ So we did all of this for nothing?”
“ Mr. Hale, this is an extraordinary situation. I am doing the best I can.”
“ Do better! What the hell are we going to do now?”
“ I have this potion prepared. Not specifically for Brollachans, but it should work on most creatures. We can each take a drink, but we have to get some to the sheriff as well. Do you happen to have your phone on you? I would like Miss Martin to research something for me.”
“ Research? Now? The sheriff isn’t going to last much longer.”
“ I know that. Hand me your phone, please.”
Derek did, allowing Stiles to bury himself further into him, make himself smaller, his entire figure trembling like it had something to sweat out too. Deaton called Lydia, asking her to research a certain spell to be said that would aid the drink in expelling the Brollachan. She seemed to have the answer, almost immediately reciting it back to Deaton, who politely thanked her before handing the phone back to Derek.
“ Drink this.” Deaton handed Derek a bottle small enough, it could fit in his pocket. He took a sip, then gave it to Stiles, having to put some pressure on his arm to get him to reopen his eyes and see what he was supposed to do. Stiles didn’t ask any questions, took a sip of his own. His eyes couldn’t steer away from the sheriff for too long, so with a bracing inhale, he looked at his body that was still moving but nowhere near as aggressively as it used to. It was tiring down. His dad was drained, on the brink of giving up. Stilling forever.
“ I will go give this to the sheriff. You can recite your spell from here, right?”
“ I would assume so, yes.” Derek was getting really tired of how unsure everything felt, but he nodded, almost stepped out of the circle but Stiles stood, took his arm to stop him.
“ Derek, no, no please. You – you can’t. The house is on fire and you’re not safe outside this circle. Please, you can’t do this.”
“ Stiles, it’s okay – “
“ No, it isn’t. None of this is fucking okay. You can’t – let me do it, okay? I can get to my dad.”
“ Absolutely not. You’re human, I can heal, you won’t.”
“ But – “
“ Stiles, we’re running out of time. I have to do this. I’ll be okay.” With a hand brushing against Stiles’ cheek, wishing it could do so much more, Derek moved out of the circle. The fire was hot and unforgiving, roaring once like it knew there was more that it could strip at now, pierce right through. The smoke was suffocating, taking over all air particles, leaving nothing to breathe in. Derek put his face into his elbow, tried to push through. This house – this fire – had taken too much, he couldn’t possibly let anyone die again.
He could feel layers of his skin peeling away as the fire closed in on him. It was the type of pain that people don’t come back from, can’t endure. He hissed, the sound of Stiles calling out for him somewhere far, far away. Where no fire was burning and no people were dying. He tilted the sheriff’s head back, drained the last of Deaton’s herbal drink into his mouth, before yelling out for Deaton to start with his mantra. Deaton’s voice carried through the fire, as he spoke in a language that Derek wasn’t familiar with, so loud and clear, it almost overpowered the sound of the fire. But it did nothing for the gargling sounds forcing their way through the sheriff’s convulsing figure. Derek almost put his hands on the sheriff’s shoulder, wanting to soothe his pain, to console him but Deaton shook his head, silently telling him that he couldn’t. That it would do more harm than good. So, Derek closed his hands even when claws started creating holes through his skin, watched as the sheriff screamed himself raw, moving like he was running away from something, like he was the one trying to get out.
When Deaton’s chanting stopped, almost everything else did too. The sheriff stilled, like he’d died. The fire fell completely silent, pulling away around them, hiding between the walls. Derek looked up, caught the devastation on Stiles’ face, before everything imploded. A dark cloud came out of the sheriff’s mouth, the fire blowing through every wall, every floor, closing in on them before following that cloud through the carved out roof above them. Then, the house gave way all around them, and they were left in the ruins. Everything went so dark so fast, Derek couldn’t do anything to stop it. To save anyone. The house had taken everyone away again.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
When he came to, it was abrupt and un-gradual. He startled awake, breathing ragged and loud. He looked down, and there were arms around him, a chest against his. He was held. He didn’t have to breathe in too long to know that it was Stiles, wrapped so tightly around him. Derek put his head in the crook of Stiles’ neck, closed his eyes around the feeling that filled him up to the brim. The feeling of safety. Of home. He thought he’d never feel like that again. He thought he didn’t deserve to. But now, he couldn’t not melt into it, take from it what Stiles was willing to give.
“ Are you okay?” Derek whispered, his throat itchy. The smoke really did a number on him.
“ Yeah, I’m – fuck, you were laying there and I didn’t – I thought you were – “ Derek’s eyebrows furrowed, as he pulled away, putting his own hands around Stiles’ arms.
“ I’m okay. Don’t worry. Where is your dad? Where are we?”
“ I don’t know. I – I passed out in the fire and then I woke up and we were here and – you weren’t waking up. There is no one around. It’s just – empty, deserted, land.” Derek stood to his feet, looked around to see that everything that Stiles was explaining was true. There were no houses, no roads, no signs of civilization at all. The sun was burning too hot for Spring, and it had been night when they were at the Hale house. Derek remembered that he had his phone on him, but when he got it out of his pocket, it was dead. Also another thing that changed from the last time he’d seen it. How long were they passed out for? And how the hell did they get to wherever they were?
“ Stiles, we should – “ Derek hesitated, when he turned to find that Stiles was still on his knees on the sandy ground, figure trembling so aggressively, Derek could hear it every time his bones hit against one another.
“ Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” When Stiles looked up to meet Derek’s eyes, it was like all the sadness in the world had morphed itself into his features. He had the anguish of losing his mom between his eyebrows, the remorse of the nogistune in the area between his mouth and nose, and the sorrow of watching his dad almost die right by his eyes. It was one of the worst things that Derek had ever seen, and he’d seen a lot of bad.
“ Stiles? What’s going on?”
“ My – my dad looked dead, right? Before we – he wasn’t moving and I am not sure he was breathing and – I think he was dead. I think my dad died and – he died hating me.”
“ No, Stiles, your dad could never hate you. And I was standing right next to him, the Brollachan left him before everything went to shit. I – I’m sure he’s fine.” Derek crouched down, his hand falling on Stiles’ shoulder.
“ How can you be sure? We – we got knocked out before we could check and – now we’re here and we don’t know if we will ever go home and – I will never know for sure what happened to my dad. I will just – fuck, we need to get out of here. We need to figure out a way to get back to your house because I – I need to tell him how sorry I am for everything and – “ Stiles stood abruptly like he’d only just made the decision to. Derek followed, hand still left where it was.
“ Calm down, Stiles, we’ll figure this out. Just – “
“ You’re hurt.” Stiles noticed the burn marks on Derek’s face, the angry looking skin on his palms.
“ It will heal. It probably needs a bit more time because of the whole magical aspect. I’m more worried about you right now.”
“ Derek,” Stiles whined, overcome with something so unkind, as he buried himself into Derek.
“ What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Stiles, please just tell me what’s wrong.”
“ My dad was hurt really bad, Derek. And – you’re hurt and we don’t know where we are and have no way of communicating with anyone and – I can’t breathe.”
“ Woah, what do you mean? Is it because of the fire? Smoke inhalation?” Derek wanted to put some distance between them, to get a closer look at Stiles. Stiles didn’t even resist at all. Derek didn’t think he could.
“ No, I – I’m having a panic attack.”
“ What? What do I do, Stiles? How can I help?” Stiles groaned, his body dropping like his threads had been cut off, like all his cords were released at the same time. Derek held from his weight what he could, but he was still weak after everything that had happened and his body was focusing all its energy on keep him in one piece.
“ My dad, Derek. He – he doesn’t deserve this. I – this is all my fault. Everything is my fucking fault. I’m sorry. I need him – I need him to know I’m sorry, Derek. For – for everything.”
“ It’s not your fault, Stiles, you did – “
“ Yes, it is!” Stiles panted, his head lifting off Derek’s shoulder, like he was desperate for him to believe that he was truly as horrible as he perceived himself to be. That he shouldn’t be trusted. That everyone should be blaming him too.
“ How is your dad being possessed by a Scottish mythical being your fault?”
“ I made him vulnerable. I – I fight him over everything and – I ruined his life, Derek. I make everything worse, I – fuck, why couldn’t it just be me?”
“ Stiles, your dad loves you. He could never survive losing you. I know this for a fact just by watching him love on you all those years. You’ve been living it, with him. You can’t tell me you honestly believe he wishes it was you instead of your mother.” Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, feeling everything slipping through his shaky fingers.
“ I – I hurt everyone I love. My dad is in this situation because of me and now – you’re hurt too. It’s not worth it. I – I’m not worth it.” Derek resituated himself and Stiles, without letting the rest of his weight drop. He opened his palm, gave Stiles’ head a nudge until it left his neck, allowing him access to Derek’s pulled out hand.
“ Look, Stiles, see? It’s healing.” And it was, the skin slowly fading back to its natural texture. Stiles laid his hand over Derek’s, touched everywhere he saw a blister before. Tears fell down his face, some of them collecting in Derek’s hand. Stiles was still breathing like he didn’t know how to, his eyes taking too long to reopen every time they blinked. Derek was sure he would pass out again if he kept it up. So, without thinking too much about it – or at all really – he leaned in, let his lips fall against Stiles’, and didn’t kiss until Stiles started to.
It was unsure at first, like everything about them. They didn’t know how the other felt, if they would welcome it or cower away. They didn’t know when it started changing for them; from pack members and acquittances, to people who fight for one another not just with. Who stay behind to make sure the other was okay regardless of how many things were happening at the same time and the overwhelming sense of doom chasing them around. Who called when they were having a bad day, just because they wanted to feel heard. Who spread themselves so wide open, spilled everything they had into the other’s hand, and waited for them to make sense of everything they were, fill up all the gaping holes in them.
This felt like the closest they would ever get to that; as whole as it got for them.
“ Wh – why did you do that?” Stiles questioned, his breathing clumsy as it found its way back down to a normal pace.
“ I, uh, asked Lydia once about what to do if, you know, this happened. She mentioned doing the same when you were panicking because of the sacrifices.”
“ You asked her for advice on what to do if I get a panic attack around you? But, why?” Stiles’ eyes were wide and wondering. Derek gave a small smile, shrugging his shoulders. He stood up, allowed Stiles the space to gather himself.
“ Do you think you can move now? It’s okay if you need a bit more time, but we still need to figure out how to get back to Beacon Hills.” Stiles nodded, lifted to his feet with a bit more effort than Derek.
“ I’m okay. Let’s go.”
“ Let me know if you need a break, or if – if it gets too much, we’ll take this at your own pace, Stiles, okay?” Stiles didn’t know if he was talking about their journey back home or whatever that kiss had unlocked between them. He nodded anyway.
They walked through the empty space that was so widespread, they saw no end to it. The sun seemed to only be getting hotter, the air more humid, leaving less room for either of them to properly breathe. It felt like they were breathing through a hot, wet towel. Nothing was coming easy to them. Derek didn’t think the excruciating heat helped with the healing of his burn marks but they had nowhere to escape. There were no trees to hide in the shadow of, no roofs to bear the temperature for them. It was just the two of them, and the big, scorching land.
“ I – I think this is the spell that Deaton warned us about. I think when the Brollachan was exorcised, it teleported us to some other plane of existence.”
“ So what? How do we get the hell out of here?”
“ I don’t think we can.”
“ Wh – what?” Derek squinted his eyes, folded with his hands on his knees to keep himself from collapsing.
“ We need magic to reverse that spell or at least open up a portal to take us home, and we – we don’t have that. All we can do is stay here, stay alive until somebody can get to us.”
“ Just – just stay? That’s it?” Stiles helplessly spread his arms out, shrugged, like he had nothing left to offer. Derek groaned, fell to his knees, but Stiles’ hands stopped him from face-planting into the sand.
“ Shit, Derek, are you okay?” Derek tried to swallow, to dig up something from deep inside that wouldn’t be a cry, but everything was so dry. It felt like there were cracks forming inside him, like everything was on the brink of breaking apart.
“ I don’t – the heat. I can’t – “ Derek fell onto his back, legs folded underneath him. Stiles appeared over him, sitting on his stomach, with his head momentarily shielding him from the direct sun.
“ I know. I know it’s bad. Almost fucking intolerable. But you’re a werewolf, dude, you can’t let a bit of sun get to you.”
“ It’s – because I’m a werewolf.”
“ Oh fuck. You already run hotter than humans and now – shit, Derek, okay. We’re going to be okay. I’ll figure something out.” Stiles started moving away from Derek, searching the surroundings like an answer to their problems would appear all of a sudden.
“ Don’t. Don’t leave me. Stay.”
“ Derek, I can’t just – “
“ You said there’s nothing to do. You’re just going to tire yourself down and – please. Stay with me.” Now that Derek felt himself standing on the edge of certain death, his mind was too jumbled up to process any of it. He didn’t know how he felt about dying. A part of him was scared, terrified of leaving Stiles to fend for himself. Another was just – sad. He was young, still. He thought he would have more time. He never even got the chance to say goodbye to Cora. But then, there was the thing in him that felt a lot like relief. How sad of a thought to have; to feel like dying was the only way to end your suffering.
“ You said we will be alright. You promised that this would pass, and I believe you, okay? I trust you. So, just – hang in there. You can’t die on me, Derek. I know you’re tired, but – don’t make me do this without you.” Derek shakily nodded, coughed out when he tried to breathe.
“ Let me just rest for a while. I’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.” Derek promised. Whether it was for his own peace of mind or Stiles’, he wasn’t quite sure. But Stiles lifted his legs off him, laid down beside him instead, and entangled their fingers together. It could have been romantic, if it wasn’t so damn morbid.
“ So, that kiss, huh?” Derek huffed, attempting a laugh but not having it in him to commit.
“ Is that your idea of resting?”
“ I either talk too much or have full blown panic attacks when I’m this nervous. Take your pick.” This time, Derek really did laugh.
“ Are you okay? After all that.” Derek lost most of the humor in his tone, tilting his head to the side to be able to see Stiles for himself.
“ I get panic attacks all the time, it’s not a big deal. I’m alright as long as you’re alright.”
“ Me?”
“ Yeah, dude. You’re all I have left right now. And we’re only in this situation because you wanted to be a hero and save everybody, which, you didn’t have to do by the way.”
“ It’s your dad. I couldn’t just not do anything.”
“ Because it’s my dad? Or because of me?”
“ Both.” Derek figured he had nothing more to lose. He was going to die anyway.
“ Are you saying that because we’re royally fucked? Because I would get it, if you are.”
“ I’m saying that because it’s the truth. It always has been.”
“ Since when?”
“ Probably since Gerard. When, Scott made me bite him. It was the first time that someone fought for me. Defended me. Made it seem like I deserved more than to just be means to an end.”
“ You do. You’ve always deserved more than anything you’ve ever gotten.”
“ No one in the world believes this about me but you. Stiles, even I don’t really think of it that way.”
“ Because you’re you, and you have this complex where everything is your fault, and you don’t deserve good things because of it. Want to bet that’s why you didn’t say anything to me before we were almost dying?”
“ You would win that bet.” Stiles smiled knowingly, nodding once in understanding.
“ Do you think you can get up now? Maybe if we walk a bit further, we will be able to find some water or something.” Derek looked away from Stiles’ ridiculously long lashes, examining his legs that were loose with exertion, his skin that was blistering all over again, now because of the sun rather than the fire, his body drenched in sweat, that there was no water left in him.
“ I think so.” When Derek sat up, everything darkened around the edges of his eyes, but he shook his head, started slowly standing, with Stiles’ hands hovering nearby, just in case. Once he was fully standing, he nodded to Stiles, taking a single step before almost crumbling again. So, Stiles circled his arm around Derek’s waist, taking one of Derek’s arms and holding it over his own shoulder with the other.
“ I got you. It’s okay.” Derek didn’t have to follow Stiles’ heartbeat to know that he meant it.
“ Earlier, when you were having that panic attack, you said that – that you hurt those you love. Then, you mentioned your dad. And me.”
“ Oh. Yeah, I did, didn’t I? And – how did that make you feel?”
“ This isn’t about how I feel. I already told you how I feel. This is – I want to hear from you.”
“ Well, although panic attacks usually send me spiraling, I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
“ Yeah? You – you really feel that way?” When the most genuine smile took over Derek’s face, Stiles couldn’t help but smile back.
“ Have I ever lied to you before?” Derek furrowed his eyebrows in mock contemplation.
“ Don’t answer that. Now, shut up and save your energy because I couldn’t hold you up for long in that pool and that was before you gained those extra pounds.”
“ Rude.” Derek said under his breath, with no real bite behind it.
Stiles led them through almost an hour of aimless walking through the land that extended beneath their feet but didn’t change at all. It was all the same. There was nothing else to find. Eventually, Derek was able to hold less and less of his own weight, exhausting Stiles even more than usual. This time, Stiles managed to put Derek down instead of letting him suddenly drop to his knees. That was something at least. Once he made sure Derek was on the ground, he fell beside him, front facing the sun that hadn’t wavered at all.
“ I’m – I’m sorry, I can’t – Jesus, I can’t walk anymore. I will just – I need to catch my breath.” Derek didn’t have the breath to respond, so he nodded, closed his eyes around the feeling of getting burned alive. He wondered if his family felt the same right before they died, if actual fire was as bad as the unexplainable sun. If this was karma, for causing their death. It would make sense if it was, but what did Stiles do to deserve this? Why did he have to die for it too?
“ What is taking them so long? Why haven’t they found us yet?”
“ Too many places to look. Too little time.” Derek’s own voice sounded distant, like it wasn’t really coming from him. Like he wasn’t there anymore. Wasn’t anywhere.
“ Hey, you can’t pass out. You have to stay awake, Derek, come on.”
“ Sorry. I’m sorry.” When Derek felt hands against his face, he couldn’t help but melt into them, take in the feeling that he knew he would have to lose soon.
“ It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“ I’m so sorry, Stiles.” It all started to hit him at once. The sheriff saying all he said. The sheriff almost dying. Having to set his house on fire and watch it burn again. Ending up in this place with Stiles slowly withering away with him. He was dying. Derek was going to die.
“ Why are you sorry?”
“ For not getting you back to your dad. For – for bringing you to this fucking place with me. For – for dying and leaving you alone.”
“ You’re not going to die, Derek. You can’t. You promised.”
“ I – I never should have let you inside that house.”
“ You couldn’t stop me if you tried. I wanted to be there. This was my choice, Derek.”
“ No, but – it isn’t supposed to work out like this. I should have told you all along. I should have told you everything.”
“ Okay, what would you have told me? If this hadn’t happened, what would you have said, Derek?” Derek moved his eyes when he couldn’t quite tilt his head, until they found Stiles. And then, he couldn’t possibly look away.
“ I – I would have told you that when Chris had a gun aimed at you when the nogitsune was in control, it was the first time that I felt like I was about to lose control since the fire. I felt like I could kill Chris if it meant saving you. Nogitsune or not. I would have told you that after Boyd, I never would have let anyone see me like that except for you. I was almost out of my mind with grief but I – I knew I needed you to ground me. I would have told you that – that when you called to tell me that everyone forgot about you and you were crying, I made the trip back to Beacon Hills without a second thought, although you still don’t know that I did. I came back for you, Stiles. I – I never stopped coming back for you and – I would have told you that I – that I love you, and I don’t know what that means anymore but I – “
Stiles’ lips fell onto his, this time feeling completely different than the last. The first time was to pause Stiles’ breathing and reset it. For his physical well-being. But this time – this was the kiss that romantic movies always showed in slow motion. The one that they chose some dramatic music at the background of, that the entire movie normally led up to. It was just – them. It had no alternative motives. No explanations or interpretations. It was a kiss because they wanted to kiss. Because they were dying and it was the one thing they wanted to do with the time they had left.
“ That probably would have been nice to hear.” Stiles whispered into Derek’s mouth, felt it curve into a smile.
“ And I love you too.” And the expression on Derek’s face was something like a dream. It was the calmest, most serene, loving thing Stiles had ever seen.
“ We – we’ve settled why I didn’t say anything sooner, but why didn’t you?” Stiles sighed, suddenly feeling more tired than anything else, as he put his head against Derek’s chest.
“ So much was happening at all times. It was hard to take a moment to digest those feelings and then express them to you, without knowing if you would be interested or not. Like, I knew there was something there, I could tell that something was shifting between us, in a good way. But I didn’t want you to feel cornered, or like, you have to like me back or something. I guess I just wanted it to be on your terms, whenever you were ready. Does that make sense?” Stiles took note of the slowing of everything, like the chest on which he rested, the breathing that was right on top of his head. And it wasn’t simply because he was sluggish and hazy.
“ Derek?” Stiles lifted his head, still hopeful, eager. Derek’s eyes were closed, all expression falling away from his face. He looked.. asleep. Rested. Finally, he looked peaceful. Stiles’ wobbly fingers touched by his mouth, moved up to his eyes. He could feel the abnormally heated skin beneath his touch, the harsh texture everywhere that was burned from the sun. Underneath it all, he just felt Derek.
A harrowed sob rocked through Stiles, as he leaned in for a kiss that Derek would never get to know about.
“ Okay. Sorry for keeping you up. I know I talk a lot, but – you can rest now. I got you. It will be okay. We’ll be alright. I love you, Derek. Rest up now.” Stiles left a sloppy kiss on Derek’s jaw, resting his head back against the chest that he couldn’t quite hear the heart beating through anymore. Everything suddenly felt a lot emptier, a lot quieter. He was all alone.
It didn’t take him long to close his eyes too. He didn’t have to keep up that front anymore. He was tired in ways he never had been before. He didn’t think anyone could be quite this tired. He figured he’d earned his rest too.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Waking up was slow. He became aware of his dry mouth first, then the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach like he was hungry. It wasn’t as hot as he last remembered it to be. There was still direct light all around him, but it didn’t have that sunny feeling. He smacked his mouth a few times, trying to get rid of that sensation, like he had cotton balls at the end of his tongue. He opened his eyes, one at a time, looked around. He was in a hospital room, with a machine beeping steadily in the background. He was alive.
He moved his head to the door when he heard approaching steps. Scott was standing there with a cup of coffee in hand and a frown itched between his eyebrows. Scott lifted his eyes from the ground, and they fell on Stiles, widened instantaneously as he let the cup fall away from his hands that were too busy wrapping around his best friend.
“ Holy shit, Stiles. You had us all worried. How are you feeling? Are you okay?” Stiles huffed against Scott’s shoulder, still kind of sore all over.
“ I’m thirsty as hell, but I’m okay.”
“ Oh shit, yeah, of course.” Scott pulled away, went into the bathroom to get Stiles a plastic cup of water, before slowly helping him drink it. Most of it got onto his hospital gown, but the water going down his throat felt too good for him to care. When the cup was empty, Scott threw it away, his eyes finding Stiles again, looking at him like he almost lost him.
“ What happened?”
“ Dude, it’s a long story, but when that Brollachan left your dad’s body, it teleported you and Derek to another dimension. The – “
“ Wait, Derek. Is he – where is he? He didn’t – “ Stiles was trying to move, away from this bed and towards wherever Derek was.
“ He’s not dead if that’s what you’re asking. He came pretty close. He wasn’t even breathing by the time we got to you, but he’s healing.”
“ And my dad?”
“ It took him a while to wake up. We brought him to the ER because he had some pretty severe smoke inhalation. He spent the day here, then discharged himself to join the task force to find you and Derek.”
“ So he’s okay? We all made it out?”
“ You did. You almost didn’t, but – yeah. Everyone is okay.” Stiles let out a long breath, leaning back into his bed, ready to go back to sleep.
“ When, uh, when I found you and Derek laying over each other like that, I thought – I thought it was too late. Those few hours while Deaton was trying to locate you sucked. I was losing my mind, worrying over you and your dad and Derek and – you can’t keep doing this to me, dude. I thought you were dead and that’s not something I can live with. I can’t do this without you, Stiles. None of it.” Stiles kind of wanted to cry because he knew how close he got to losing everything, but he cleared the choked feeling away from his throat, gave it his all to smile at his friend.
“ I love you, Scotty. Thank you for always having my back.” Scott nodded, with a proud grin breaking through the tears hanging onto his eyelashes.
“ Get some rest. I’ll call your dad to tell him you’re awake.” Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, closing his eyes as soon as Scott stood to make that call.
When Stiles woke up, however many hours later, he found Derek and the sheriff talking among themselves, with the sheriff on a chair and Derek standing by the window, arms crossed against his chest. He looked tired, but there were no more burn marks on his face. He just looked like he hadn’t slept in a year or two.
“ Dad,” Stiles whispered, causing both their heads to immediately turn towards him. The sheriff stood, moved first, but it looked like Derek could have beat him to it if he really tried to.
“ Hey, kid, we didn’t mean to wake you, but I’m glad you’re up. How are you feeling?” Stiles didn’t think he would be this overwhelmed seeing his dad again, but he was bombarded by all the things he couldn’t unhear and the fear he felt not knowing if he would have to lose his dad too. His lip started wavering, his eyes drowned in tears.
“ What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Do I need to call the doctor?” Stiles bit down on his lips, trying so hard to keep it together for his dad, who was looking at him with more love than he probably deserved.
“ I just can’t believe you’re here and – I’m sorry. I’m okay, it’s okay.”
“ Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?” The sheriff kindly smiled, his fingers running through his son’s hair. “ I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. I had to sort things out with Derek since his house burned down. Insurance and a shitload of paperwork, you know how it is.” Stiles looked away from his dad then, his eyes falling on Derek who was already looking back at him. Awaiting his turn.
“ You okay?” Stiles asked, receiving an immediate nod from Derek back, his arms falling beside him, as he took a step or two towards the bed.
“ Come here.” Stiles urged, making grabby hands like a child. Derek smiled to himself, found his way into Stiles’ embrace, where he hummed in relief, absorbing Stiles’ scent. Derek didn’t say anything – didn’t know what to say after dying in each other’s arms. After a few seconds of desperate holding, Stiles’ grip loosened, so Derek pulled himself away.
“ I’ll let you two be. I’m glad you’re okay, Stiles. Sheriff.” Derek bowed his head a little in respect, turning to leave when the sheriff called on him. Derek tilted his body back towards him, but didn’t walk any closer.
“ Wait, Derek, I would like you to be here for this. I need you both to know the same thing.”
“ What is it, dad? Did something happen?” Stiles sat up, winced from the general strain in his body. It felt like all his bones were broken at the same time, like he was in pieces and his body didn’t know what to fix first.
“ No, it’s not like that. It’s just – you know it wasn’t really me, right?” The sheriff suddenly looked unsure, of himself, of pretty much everything else.
“ What do you mean?”
“ I remember what I.. or that thing said to you. To both of you. And I wanted to make sure you knew; I would never say anything like that to either of you.”
“ Dad – “
“ I said some pretty horrible stuff. Unforgivable and I – I understand how devastating it must have been to be on the receiving end of some of the things said and – Derek, the fire was not on you. You were a teenager, a kid, and you didn’t know any better. I’m sure if your parents were here, they would tell you themselves that you shouldn’t blame anyone but that.. bitch who did it. Who took advantage of your young and naïve idea of love. And you’ve grown into an incredible man, whom I am proud to have in my corner. I trust you, with my own life and with – my son’s. That’s not something I take lightly, okay? You can’t let any of what I said get to you. I wouldn’t even think that of you. And I don’t.” The sheriff stood somewhere amidst his speech, because this was far too urgent to just sit through. He put both hands to Derek’s shoulders, making sure he could see the sincerity in his eyes. Derek looked like he could cry, so the sheriff pulled him into a kind, comforting, hug. There were occasional sniffles but no one knew what their source was. No one needed to know.
“ I’ll, uh, head back to the station. I think Parrish needs me for something.” Derek cleared his throat, but his voice still didn’t really sound like him. The sheriff gave him a gentle smile, watched as he left the room and closed the door behind him, before he went back to his seat next to his son.
“ I am – so sorry, kiddo.”
“ I’m the one who should be sorry, dad. I – “
“ No. You – you saved my life, Stiles. You are the only reason I am here today. The only one. Losing your mom broke something inside me that I am not sure will ever get fixed, but – you pulled me through. You gave me something that no one else could have given me. You were the best goddamn son in the world even when I wasn’t much of a father. You forgave so much, that you didn’t have to. You let me wallow for as long as I needed to, and then took me back like it never happened. And – I know some of it still lingers, Stiles, I’m not completely hopeless, but you never held it against me. I wasn’t a nice drunk, I was – I mean, I didn’t lay a hand on you but I put you through so much shit when you’d already lost the one person that could have defended you in all of this.”
“ You were grieving, dad. I am old enough to get it.”
“ I know you are, but you weren’t then. You didn’t know why I did half the things I did. You didn’t know why I wasn’t the same father you always knew. You could barely understand that your mom wasn’t coming back. And still, without ever realizing it, you gave me little things to hold onto with all I had left in me. And I did, which is why I am the man that I am today. I never would have done any of it without you and the fact that – that I said those things to you, breaks my fucking heart, Stiles.”
“ Dad, I love you. So much. You are the best thing that could have ever happened to me. It’s okay, I know that it wasn’t you, and – “
“ But it affected you, Stiles. I know it did. Be honest.”
“ Okay, yeah, I won’t lie to you, it definitely hurt. But – that’s because I was already thinking all of those things about myself. I – I’ve always blamed myself; for mom, for Allison, for Aiden. For getting you into this messy world that you had nothing to do with. I don’t – I don’t hold whatever was said against you because you just spoke my greatest fears out loud. You brought something to life that I was trying to run away from.”
“ Your mom got sick, Stiles. A human, physical, illness that no one could do anything to attract. It wasn’t your fault. My drinking wasn’t your fault. As for Allison and Aiden, I know it’s damn near impossible to get you to believe that it wasn’t on you, but it could have been anyone. I – I could have shot through you or any of your friends. Scott could have gotten possessed, or even Allison herself. You aren’t weak for being taken over by a thousand-year-old fox. You came back, Stiles. You fought to do it too. It wasn’t easy, and – I am the proudest man in the world that I get to be your father, okay? I love you. Beyond anything that you can possibly imagine.”
“ I love you too, dad. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you.” And then, the sheriff folded over his son, completely enveloping him, as they both cried into one another. The sheriff was crying for the young boy who’d lost so much, who had every reason to be the exact opposite of everything that he was. He cried for the loss he’d endured and failed to appropriately cope with. For the things he said that he couldn’t take back. He cried for himself too; because he’d lost all control over himself, over his own body and words and even thoughts. He’d also almost lost his son. While Stiles cried because his dad was saying everything he needed to hear and looked like he meant it. He was crying because he truly couldn’t picture life without his dad. And also, he kind of almost died after watching Derek kind of die and it was all just too much for his heart to handle without shattering a little.
The sheriff stayed with Stiles until he was released the next day. He drove him home, showered and changed, then had to go back to the station. Lydia and Scott showed up so that he wouldn’t be left alone. They told him about Deaton’s attempts at locating him and Derek, and how he had to open up a portal three times before it actually took them to the realm that they were in. Scott told him about the CPR they had to do on Derek before taking him to the hospital too, and how long it took them to get Stiles off him since they were so entangled together. Lydia told him that his dad asked about him as soon as he opened his eyes, that it was a lot to explain but he took it like the champ they knew he was. She noted that he would need a bit more time to adjust to the fact that he was possessed, that he probably shouldn’t be left to his own head. Apparently the drink that Deaton gave them was supposed to prevent any Brollachans from using any of them as vessels, which was why it was given to everyone involved, even those outside the house, just in case. They even gave Derek, Stiles and the sheriff extra dosages through their IVs, because there was no such thing as being too careful.
That night, when Lydia and Scott eventually left to go home, and his dad had to take on the night shift too, Stiles went out on a walk, appreciating the time he was finally allowed to be by himself, to process everything that had happened. It was chilly but not quite cold. He had a hoodie that he zipped up anyway, because he couldn’t deal with the flu on top of everything else. His dad getting possessed and then getting thrown into a different dimension where he almost died and Derek pretty much did was one thing, but a flu would be too damn much. The irony wasn’t lost on him, he was just too out of it to enjoy it yet. He found himself in front of the Hale house. It was burned even worse than the last time, because apparently burning a house once was manageable, but twice; that was pushing it. It looked like it’d been abandoned for decades, like no one had lived there for a long, long time. Stiles didn’t know how Derek would ever be able to rebuild that or make it back into something he would call a home. There was a pit in his stomach, thinking of Derek lost and alone in the world, with nowhere to go back to, no sense of safety or direction or sanctuary.
Stiles got his phone out of his pocket, looked at the time and saw that it was almost one am, before deciding to call Derek anyway. He told himself that if he didn’t respond by the third ring, he would just hang up. But he didn’t, because he just wanted to hear his voice, and he cared more about that than the lack of courtesy.
“ Stiles, is everything okay?”
“ Yeah, I’m – I’m good. Where are you?”
“ Huh?”
“ I mean – I am at your house in the preserve, and I realized that I never asked you if you had another place to stay.”
“ You’re out there alone? What the hell are you doing there anyway?”
“ I’m not really sure, I was out on a walk and I ended up here.” It was silent for a minute or so, before Derek started cursing under his breath.
“ Weren’t those fucking potions supposed to keep you safe? I’ll grab Deaton and – “
“ No, no, it’s not like that. I am fine, seriously. It wasn’t that type of thing, I am fully aware of how I got here.” Stiles thought back to the nights he would wake up in places he couldn’t recognize, with bloody, bare feet and bluing limbs because apparently, he was never dressed for the occasion.
“ Stay there, I am on my way.”
“ Derek,” Stiles sighed, almost started rambling but Derek had already hung up. He started moving around the house, trying to find a spot that wasn’t as affected by the fire as everything else. He knew that Derek had probably already seen all of this, but he didn’t want to put him through it again if he could help it. It took Derek less than fifteen minutes to get there, sniffing Stiles out until he found him.
“ Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Derek seemed slightly out of breath, putting a hand to his waist and the other somewhere by his chest.
“ I told you I’m okay. You didn’t have to come all the way here.”
“ I wanted to make sure for myself.”
“ Well, now that that’s done, let me walk you back to your car.” Stiles started walking away, eager to get Derek as far away as possible from that house.
“ I didn’t drive here.”
“ What? Why not?”
“ I figured I’d run here faster, and I didn’t want to risk getting pulled over if I drove.”
“ Why were you in such a rush? I – “
“ I know you said you were okay, but – I don’t know, I worry.”
“ You worry? How do you think I feel after you died on me like that?”
“ Fair enough. At least it was with you though.”
“ What?”
“ I just – I’ve always had that fear of dying alone. Of no one noticing I was actually dead. And – you were there with me. I could feel you until the very last moment.”
“ I would have noticed even if I wasn’t there for it, Derek. I – the only thing that kept me from completely losing it after you closed your eyes was knowing that I was on the brink of death too. That I wouldn’t have much longer to live with the thought of losing you.”
“ Is – do you still feel the same about everything we talked about back there?” Derek stepped closer to Stiles, knowing his answer but just wanting to hear it from him.
“ Yes.” It was quick and certain. And that was all it took, for Derek to put his hands on Stiles’ waist, pull him in until their lips connected. And it was effortless from there, they didn’t have to think twice. They knew exactly what to do. They knew exactly how they felt. They knew that nothing else was guaranteed; that the world could end again tomorrow, but for that single moment in time, there was an assurance that no matter what came next, as long as they had this; they would be alright.