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Derek doesn’t trust anybody, especially not the Stilinski kid with his wiry frame and penchant for tripping over nothing. Is he good at finding information? Sure. But Derek has had to save Stiles' neck one too many times to trust Stiles would be able to save Derek’s if need be. Derek has no choice but to find out now since he is paralyzed from the neck down in a 7-foot pool, and the only reason he hasn’t drowned yet is that Stiles is holding him up. For now, at least.
They’ve already been in this position for an hour if the clock on the wall isn’t broken. Derek knows his arm is slung over Stilles’ shoulders and that Stiles has a hand on his back keeping him steady as Stiles uses his free arm and legs to keep their heads above water. “So,” Stile starts, out of breath already, “how you hanging there? Should we share tragic backstories as we wait, or…”
Derek lets out an annoyed grunt. “Not the time Stiles.”
Stiles snorts. “I feel like there’s not a time when your answer would be different.”
Derek doesn’t dignify that with a response. So what if he’s not trying to share his life story with these people? He’s just trying to rebuild his pack, rebuild his family, and he doesn’t need to share anything with Stiles or Scott to do that since they’ve made it abundantly clear that they don’t want to share anything with Derek. At least Scott has.
It’s silent for exactly five minutes before Stiles starts going on a tangent about his econ presentation. He’s not so much talking to Derek as he is talking at him about all his ideas for what he could do, and how he should speak. “Should I go Gekko in Wall Street or try for a smarmy Harvard grad?” He says random phrases in imitation of both his options.
If Derek could rub his temples he would, but he can’t. “Stiles, I swear to God-”
“Ah, so you believe in God.”
“It’s a figure of speech. If God existed, I wouldn’t be stuck in this pool with you.”
Stiles lets out a mocking gasp. “I am a joy to be around, Derek. The one being punished here is me. I’m the one who is somehow still keeping us above water with all your dead weight on me.”
They pass the time like this, bickering, until Stiles decides to try to call Scott. Derek pleads with him not to let go. Sure, there’s plenty of days when Derek isn’t sure he wants to exist anymore, but he surely doesn’t want to go out this way, suffocating as water engulfs him. He takes a deep breath in just before his head goes under. The chlorine burns his eyes as he sinks to the bottom of the pool like a rock. Typically, Derek can hold his breath for a pretty long time, but the added fact that he knows he can’t pull himself up and out of the water has triggered a panic he hasn’t felt in a very long time. His heart is beating hard, and he knows that he’s going to run out of oxygen quicker than he expected. He should’ve been nicer to Stiles, maybe he wouldn’t have left him to die at the bottom of this pool. If Derek could laugh, he would. That’s a lie, no matter how nice or awful he’s been to anyone in the past few years, they’ve found a way to betray him at one point. No reason why Stiles would be different.
Derek closes his eyes and tries to keep in as much air as he can, but he’s to the point that he has to let out at least a little bit through his nose so he won’t feel like he needs to explode anymore. Then, he’s suddenly being pulled up and out of the water. When his head breaches the surface, he turns to see Stiles is still there. He saved him. Stiles didn’t have to. He could have left Derek down there for longer or forever if he really wanted, but here he is two hours later, still saving Derek’s life.
That’s when Derek has this niggling feeling that maybe, just maybe, he can trust Stiles.