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His head hurts. Everything hurts. Does he have a hangover? He doesn’t remember drinking last night. But that’ll happen when you drink enough. There’s something digging into his back. It feels like a stick. And that’s definitely the feeling of earth under his hands. Fuck, he’s not even sleeping it off at home. His dad is going to be furious. Shit. He doesn’t even know what day it is. What if he missed school? That’s it. He’s going to stay here until he’s been digested by the earth, because his dad is going kill him.
‘Hey, wake up!’ The voice is unfamiliar. Please let it not be some new deputy that’s found him.
Stiles opens his eyes. And then needs to blink a few times. There is a bearded man leaning over him. A hot bearded man wearing a leather jacket. Oh god, is that blood on his face? Is he being mugged?
He tries to scuttle back a bit, but Hot Bearded Mugger Guy puts a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place.
‘Stiles, what’s wrong?’
‘What? How do you know my name? Who are you? Am I being mugged? Is that my blood on your face? Please say no.’
HBMG immediately removes his hand and moves back. There’s something in his eyes that might be hurt. ‘You don’t know who I am?’
Stiles shakes his head.
‘I’m getting Scott. Helena, stay with him.’ And with that the guy runs off. A cute girl steps into his line of sight. She’s petite with long black hair and big grey eyes. Not really his type, but cute. Why is there a cute girl sitting down next to him?
‘You really don’t remember anything?’ she asks. Her voices catches a bit and she’s frowning.
‘Nope. Wait, am I supposed to remember you? Are we…?’ He points from himself to her.
‘No,’ she says, smiling now. ‘I’m with Derek. The guy who just ran off.’
‘The guy who knows Scott, but who I don’t know?’
‘You do. You, uhm- You just don’t remember at the moment.’
‘Oh. Do I know you?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Do I like you?’
‘Yes, I’m pretty sure you do.’ She’s laughing a little. Stiles can’t help smiling back.
‘Do I like Derek?’
‘Not really. You two argue a lot. Probably because you don’t have a lot in common, except for Scott. You both like Scott.’
‘Everybody likes Scott,’ Stiles snorts.
Helena laughs again, her eyes shining with mirth. Well, he must like her at least a little. She’s laughing at his jokes after all.
‘Stiles?’
He looks up to see Scott walking toward him. He’s pretty sure it’s Scott. He doesn’t remember Scott’s hair being that short. Or his shoulders so wide. Or that his best friend has a tattoo.
Scott kneels in front of him. Looking at him with those concerned puppy-eyes. ‘What do you remember? How old are you?’
‘Lacrosse try-outs are soon. Tomorrow, I think. And I’m sixteen, dude.’
~
He’s not sixteen. And he no longer plays lacrosse. He’s twenty-three, lives with a bunch of his friends. No, pack, because apparently ninety percent of his friends are were-animals. He works as a deputy. And he lost his memory because he was hit with a spell. A fucking spell. It feels like he’s time travelled and landed in the middle of a Harry Potter book. Or an episode of The Twilight Zone, because Lydia Martin is cleaning the scratches on his arm and sticking Band-Aids on them. Lydia Martin knows he exists and she’s concerned.
‘I think I need to lie down for a bit.’
‘You can’t. You might have a concussion.’
‘Then wake me up in two hours.’
The girl, woman, purses her lips and squints her eyes at him. It’s weird, he would’ve paid good money for Lydia to even remember his name, before, but he just wants to roll his eyes and tell her he’ll be fine. Like they’re buddies.
‘Fine,’ she eventually says. ‘But you should wash up first.’
‘Thank you.’ He gets up and moves to the stairs, when he realizes something. ‘Hey, Lyds? Could you point me to my bedroom?’
‘I’ll do it.’
Stiles jumps when Derek suddenly appears next to him.
‘Dude, don’t do that.’
‘Sorry,’ Derek says, but he sounds a little pleased with himself. ‘And don’t call me dude.’
The last thing is said as an afterthought. Like it’s something he says all the time. It makes something in Stiles chest squeeze tightly. It makes him want to smile.
He quickly coughs to hide his reaction. ‘Lead the way, big guy.’
He follows Derek up the stairs. When they reach the landing, Derek takes his hand. Stiles’ first instinct is to lace their fingers together, but then he remembers Helena and quickly pulls his hand back.
Derek turns towards him, looking confused.
‘Wha-‘ he begins. He reaches out a hand as if to caress Stiles’ face, who quickly ducks away from the hand.
‘Wow. What the hell? I am not that kind of guy. And if I was before, I am not anymore. Just point me to my bedroom.’
Derek drops his hand. The dejection and hurt on his face make Stiles want to take his words back and pull the guy close. But he’s not a home wrecker. He’s not someone who’d betray a friend like that. Right?
He watches Derek turn and open one of the doors with an ache in his heart.
~
Over the next few days Stiles realizes that he doesn’t really hate Derek. He is annoyed and frustrated by him. Derek makes his favourite foods, is always there when he needs something. He makes Stiles his coffee in the morning. And he does it perfectly. When it’s determined that he doesn’t have a concussion, Derek watches his favourite movies with him. He even shows Stiles all the movies he doesn’t remember. It’s like Derek is wooing him and it makes Stiles want to punch a hole in through the wall. Because he wants to say yes, so badly. But he can’t because of Helena. Helena, who laughs at his jokes and always sits close to Derek. Helena, who is Derek’s girlfriend, or rather mate, since they’re werewolves.
It’s not really the wooing that makes Stiles want to say yes to Derek, though. It’s all the other things. It’s the way he always, gently directs Scott away from any of his bad ideas. The way he hugs Lydia whenever her banshee powers overwhelm her. The way he smiles like an exasperated brother when Erica comes home with another outfit that most girls wouldn’t dare to wear. It’s because Derek hums at his first sip of his morning coffee. Because he looks very cuddly in that stupid sweater with the thumbholes.
He sighs and closes his book. Allison was right that Divergent is awesome, but he can’t focus on it when he keeps picturing Four looking like Derek.
‘You okay?’ Helena asks, dropping next to him on the couch.
‘Yeah. Just bitter about being seen as the “fragile human”.’
Helena frowns. ‘That’s not why they had you stay behind, Stiles. You’re part of the pack and you’re hurt. And as long as you’re hurt, you don’t fight. We were all a little surprised that you gave in so easily, actually.’
‘Yeah, well, I just didn’t feel like arguing.’
‘Which is proof that you’re not entirely yourself yet,’ the girl smiles triumphantly.
‘Okay, fine. Aren’t you pissed at having human-sitting duty, though?’
‘No. I’m new to the pack and I still need training. The others fight like a well-oiled machine. If me staying means that you’re safe and the other come back alive. I don’t mind.’
Stiles nods. Helena’s former pack had kicked her out because she’d made too many mistakes in the field. She’d nearly gotten their Alpha killed. Apparently, some werewolves were dicks and instead of training their packmembers properly kicked them out whenever they did something wrong.
‘I’m gl-‘ But he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.
The backdoor bursts open and the others stumble in, carrying an unconscious Derek. Allison shoves everything off the kitchen table so they can lower him onto it.
‘What happened?’ Stiles can feel his heart squeeze in fear. Please, don’t let him be dead. He balls his hands into fists to stop them from shaking.
‘Wolfsbane. And lots of it,’ Erica grits out, pulling off Derek’s shirt. There are several entry wounds on Derek’s chest and arms, the veins around them already turning black.
And then Stiles is up and running. He sprints upstairs, to their “supply room”. It’s the room where all their weapons, artefacts, books and herbs are. He pulls open one of the cupboards and pulls out a small chest. There’s a triskelion engraved on the lid, the inside is filled with purple powder and small purple flowers. And a lighter. He sprints back to the kitchen, grabs a small plate and moves next to wear Derek is lying on the table. He shoos away the rest of the pack, telling them to clean themselves up, and gets to work.
He empties a vial of the purple powder onto the plate and lights it.
‘Come on,’ he urges the flames. After what seems like hours, the flame burns out. He carefully starts pouring the wolfsbane ashes into the wounds. The effect is immediate. Derek arches off the table, growling, and purple vapours rise from the wounds.
‘Scott! Isaac!’ he yells. ‘Hold him down!’
The two wolves come running. One grabs Derek’s shoulders and the other the Alpha’s legs.
Stiles burns the contents of another vial, all the while muttering under his breath.
‘Stupid protective werewolf. I’m the Alpha, Stiles. It’s my job. I heal a lot better than my Betas. Well, you’re not going to heal from what I’m going to do to you, you stupid Sourwolf.’
When he looks up he sees Scott and Isaac sharing an amused glance. He ignores it and starts bandaging up the wounds. It’ll take Derek a little while to heal completely when there’s this much wolfsbane in his system.
‘You remember?’ Scott asks later, when Stiles is washing the ashes from his hands.
‘No. Why?’
‘You immediately went for the right kit. And you called him Sourwolf.’
‘Oh. I didn’t even really think about it.’
‘Well, I’m glad something is coming back to you,’ Scott says, clapping his shoulder.
Stiles sags a bit under its force. After all this time the guy still doesn’t know his own strength.
‘I wish it was more, though. Deaton really doesn’t have a clue how to fix this?’
‘He says there are too many variations on memory spells. Most have a key, but if we use the wrong key, we could make things worse.’
‘Right. It’s just getting annoying,’ he sighs. He looks towards where Derek is now lying on the couch, still unconscious, but at least he’s healing. He wishes he remembered they’re entire history. He knows Derek is with Helena, but he can’t help but feel there’s something he’s missing.
‘He’ll be fine.’
‘I know.’
~
He’s pouring himself a cup of coffee, humming under his breath. Derek is still on the couch. He’s woken up a few times. Each time he’d started swiping his claws at people, eyes flashing red, until Stiles managed to grab his hands and hold them down. After the second time, he’d send them all out of the house. Isaac, Allison and Scott are at the movies. Boyd is doing some gardening, because apparently he loves that now. Erica, Malia, Lydia and Helena are shopping, buying clothes to replace the ones destroyed in the fight.
‘I always feel like, somebody’s watching me,’ he sings under his breath.
Strong hands spin him around and he’s looking into Derek’s hopeful face. He still looks a little pale. But if he can manhandle Stiles, he’s definitely on the mend.
‘What did you just sing?’
‘It’s just a song that’s been stuck in my head,’ Stiles shrugs. He swallows when Derek presses a little closer. God, he wants to climb that man like a tree. He wants do really stupid stuff, like scratch his beard. He thinks Derek would like that. He hopes Helena scratches his beard. Right, Helena, the reason that Stiles is not allowed to scratch Derek’s beard.
‘It’s not just a song, Stiles,’ Derek says, voice low. ‘It’s- There was trouble on campus, your second year of college. I came to keep an eye on you and you started singing it whenever you realized I was around. And later- Later you started singing it whenever I watch you sleep, or when I’m watching you cook, or read, or-‘ Derek sounds out of breath, but Stiles doesn’t think it’s because he’s in any physical pain. ‘It’s not just a song. It’s our song.’
Stiles’ breath feels like it’s been punched out of him. He’s a terrible person. He has a song with a guy that’s in a relationship with someone else.
‘We can’t have song,’ he whispers. ‘We’re not supposed to have a song.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because we’re not together, Derek! You’re with Helena.’
Derek stumbles back, looking shocked and confused. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘Because she told me.’
There’s the sound of a struggle by the back door. Derek spins around, eyes flashing red. He moves in front of Stiles in a protective stance.
Stiles goes to stand on his toes, so he can look over Derek’s shoulder.
Erica has Helena pinned to the wall, claws at her throat. Malia is visibly bristling, ready to help her girlfriend tear the other wolf apart. Lydia has that look on her face that Stiles remembers from high school. It means that she’s about to make someone’s life a living hell.
‘You bitch!’ Erica growls. Her claws dig a little deeper into Helena’s throat, puncturing the skin.
‘Explain,’ Derek commands.
In that split second the girl’s face transforms into something that Stiles doesn’t recognize. Her mouth forms an ugly sneer, and her grey eyes are burning with fury.
‘Because you deserve better than some lousy human. He’s weak. You can’t build a strong pack with- with that. I am the mate you deserve. I’m strong. I can give you children. He can only give you worry. He’s nothing but a bag of meat. I’m a werewolf.’
By the end of her speech Stiles can barely hear her over the growling of the three were-animals. He can see Derek and Malia starting to shift, ready to tear the girl to pieces. He places a hand on Derek’s shoulder. The Alpha relaxes his stand, but he doesn’t step out of Stiles’ way until Stiles prods him in his side.
‘Erica, let her go.’
The blonde throws him an uncertain look, but pulls her claws out of the girl’s throat, one by one. Helena sags against the wall, but quickly recovers and turns towards him. Erica, Malia and Lydia block her path and force her out of the backdoor.
‘Leave,’ Derek growls.
‘I’d run if I were you,’ Boyd says. Stiles hadn’t even noticed him until now.
‘And don’t stop until you’re at least three states away,’ Erica adds.
Helena looks from the women in front of her, to the man behind, and then to Derek and Stiles. Her eyes flash, but then she takes off, through the preserve, away from them.
When she’s out of sight, Stiles turns towards Derek.
‘So we’re together.’
‘Yes.’ There’s still a bit of a growl in that voice.
‘So it would be totally okay if I kissed you.’
‘Yes.’ This time there’s a hint of a smile on Derek’s lips.
Stiles moves forward, pushing Derek back against the kitchen counter. He presses himself flush against the man’s chest, moves his hands up his arms, over his shoulders, and slides them into Derek’s hair.
‘Thank god,’ he whispers. He closes the small gap remaining between them and connects their lips. It’s better than he’d hoped. He can feel a heat traveling through him, starting from his lips, going all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. Something in his head slides into place.
He pulls back with a gasp.
‘I remember,’ he says, grinning.
‘Really?’ Derek sounds so hopeful it breaks his heart a little.
‘Really, big guy.’
He kisses Derek again. He switches their positions, so his mate can lift him onto the counter and he can wrap his legs around his mate. Holy shit, Derek Hale, Alpha werewolf, is his mate.
He slides his hands down to Derek’s chest and brushes over one of the bandages. He pulls back again. But Derek isn’t happy with the loss of contact and moves to his neck.
‘You still need to rest,’ Stiles admonishes him.
‘I’m rested.’
‘You can’t exert yourself, yet. You’re still healing.’
‘But I want to exert myself,’ Derek grins. He moves in for another kiss. The gleam in his eyes telling Stiles that he won’t be able to say no once their lips touch.
‘You can exert yourself later. On me.’
Derek pouts a little, but he does move back.
There is a chorus of groans from the direction of the backdoor.
‘Not again,’ Boyd mutters.
‘Last time the house stank like sex for three days,’ Malia says darkly. ‘I don’t want to know that kind of thing about my cousin.’
‘I think it’s cute,’ Lydia points out.
‘I think it’s hot.’ Erica doesn’t look like she’s planning on moving any time soon.
‘And you are all leaving,’ Stiles tells their Betas.
They all turn, except for Erica, who has to be pulled out of the house by Malia.
‘And tell the others to stay away, too,’ he yells after them. He pushes Derek back a little and hops off the counter. He grabs his mate’s hand, leading him to their bedroom. ‘Come on. Sleep first. And when you’re healed you can exert yourself any way you want.’