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The door to Stiles’ office opened and his latest client exited the room. The woman’s eyes were red-rimmed and her face was damp, but she was smiling as she thanked Stiles and left the building.
Stiles was emotional himself. The messages that he’d given the woman obviously weren’t for him, but he often experienced the emotions felt himself and a sort of jubilance at bridging the gap between people when at least one of them wasn’t in this living world anymore.
Stiles was a psychic medium. His dearest friend, Lydia, was a seer. Together they ran Messages from Afar, where they each used their gifts to give others advice or give them messages.
The two had finished high school with Lydia as valedictorian and Stiles as salutatorian, the most brilliant students at their high school. Everyone had expected great things from both of them. In college, they had each done wonderfully in their classes, Lydia as a math major and Stiles in criminal justice, but it had turned out that they’d had different callings in life than what they were good at in school.
Lydia’s grandmother had been a seer, able to see the future. The gift had skipped her mother, but Lydia herself had been able to see things occasionally since she was about ten years old. Rather than be frightened of the visions, Lydia had honed her skills at seeing the future. Seers tended to use various tools help with their visions. The one Lydia had the most skill with was the tarot cards. She shuffled and dealt out the cards while focusing on the person she was reading.
Stiles’ mother, Claudia, had also been a seer. She had been able to see the auras of people and through the auras could get visions of the future. Stiles could sometimes see auras faintly if they were particularly strong or if he was particularly close to the person. But his true gift was seeing and communicating with the spirits of the dead.
He had first noticed them as a six-year-old child. He could still remember the day he had discovered his gift clearly. He had been out with his mother, holding her hand while walking down the street in town. There had been an old couple walking in the opposite direction towards the two of them, but the man had been so much paler than the woman beside him. Stiles had even been able to kind of see through the man. “Mommy,” he had said, tugging on her arm, “why is that man there so pale?”
His mother smiled. “Ah, it seems you have a very special gift, Mieczyslaw,” she had told him. “You can see the spirits of the dead.”
In the way of children, he hadn’t been very quiet at all when asking his question, and the old woman had been very startled. “He’s here?” she had whispered in awe. “He’s really here, with me?”
“Yup!” Stiles had told her, beaming. “He’s right there next to you! And he looks really happy to be with you.” He pointed at where the old man stood.
When the old couple had finally continued on their way, the woman had shed a few years, but she had been gazing adoringly in the direction of her deceased husband. “You did a very good thing, Mieczyslaw,” his mother had told him. “That’s what a gift like yours is meant for, to help those who are living to know that the dead are alright.”
Eventually as he got older, Stiles had not only been able to see the dead spirits, but he’d begun to understand messages from the dead and pass those messages on to their friends and family. Rarely the messages had been spoken to him completely, but mostly the spirits had had to use hand signs with the occasional important, sometimes repeated, word to get their message across. In middle school and the beginning of high school, he had given out the messages freely, but after a few bad experiences from people who didn’t want to hear the messages Stiles had received for them, he had figured out that he should only give those messages to people who had actually sought him out for that purpose.
It had been around that time that Stiles and Lydia had begun discussing a possible idea for occult consultations, with Lydia reading tarot cards to see the future and Stiles speaking to the dead to give messages to the living. And now their business was flourishing. They were booked out for weeks, and when they weren’t working in the shop, Lydia was working on math theories and Stiles consulted on cases for his father, who was the town sheriff. But the occult shop was really their passion.
Lydia’s grandmother had been full of pride the day that Messages from Afar had opened. Stiles‘ mom had died many years before when Stiles had still been in elementary school, so she hadn’t physically been there for the opening, or many of the important events in Stiles’ life. But seeing her spirit being there during all those events, smiling and applauding, still gave him a great deal of comfort.
Stiles had finished his consultations for the day. It was 4:45, so there was a little bit more time before they both left to go home. Not for the first time, Stiles wished that he actually had someone at home waiting for him or for him to wait for.
Lydia had been lucky, Stiles thought. She’d actually married her high school sweetheart after they’d finished their first year in college. Stiles was truly happy for her.
Stiles knocked lightly on Lydia’s office door. He heard a “Come in,” murmured from inside, so he opened the door.
Lydia was sitting at her high-backed chair, laying out tarot cards in the ten-card spread. She had a far-off look in her eyes that Stiles recognized as when she got her visions, and she placed each card with precision. Stiles stood there silently so as to not disturb her further than he already had.
Finally, Lydia looked up at Stiles and smiled. “Finished early?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Stiles answered. “What were you reading for there?” He nodded at her ten-card spread.
“Just the general future,” Lydia said mysteriously. “I didn’t get a clear picture, but I saw a large group of people coming here.”
“Large group?” Stiles mused, then grinned. “Sounds like business is booming like usual!”
Lydia rolled her eyes, but shot Stiles a small smirk. “Well, we are definitely the best in the business here.”
“Of course we are,” Stiles said.
He wandered over to Lydia’s small window, pushed her dark, gauzy curtains to the side, and enjoyed the light coming in. While Stiles’ office had large windows letting in plenty of daylight, Lydia preferred to keep her office mostly dark dimly lit by candles with the one window blocked by curtains. Since Lydia was finished with her day as well, Stiles didn’t feel bad about letting a little light in.
Then Stiles’ eyes lit up. He was walking by outside.
Stiles had no idea what the man’s name was, what he did, or what kind of person he was. He only knew two things. One, that he was the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his entire life, but he always seemed to have such a sad look on his face. Lydia would call him melancholy. And two, that he was constantly followed by at least half a dozen spirits.
Lydia peered out the window herself. “Oh,” she said knowingly. “It’s that man again. Why don’t you just go outside and talk to him?”
“Nooooo,” Stiles sighed. “What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? What if he doesn’t like guys? I don’t know a thing about him, just that I get a good feeling just looking at him.”
“And if I recall,” Lydia said, “he’s looked at you, too. Maybe you don’t remember, but he’s sent a small smile towards you as well, so I think there could be a chance.”
She swept back to her table, collected her tarot cards, and immediately began shuffling them, murmuring to herself so softly that Stiles couldn’t understand. She laid out the cards in a different, smaller pattern. “Yes, yes,” she muttered a little louder. “Talking to this man could be very good. Happiness is very possible with him. The Lovers. Soulmates. And he needs your message. His family has much to tell him.”
Stiles felt goosebumps go up his arms the way he always did the few times Lydia had done a tarot reading for him, no matter how brief this reading was.
“Do it, Stiles,” Lydia said, her voice back to its normal volume. “You will be so happy you do. Trust me.”
**********
Stiles wasn’t really intending on taking Lydia’s advice, despite how convinced she was and how she would likely be right about it all. He was just way too shy. He’d never really dated much in high school or college because he was always the weird kid who saw dead people. So he’d never had that much experience and lacked confidence in himself and his ability to attract people beyond maybe a few dates.
He was in the grocery store picking up a few necessities that he’d run out of. He ran through his small list while he walked up and down the aisles, dropping what he needed into the basket on his arm. He was so lost in thought that he ran right into what felt like a brick wall. “Whoa!” he yelped out. Thankfully, he didn’t fall over, possibly thanks to a couple of hands steadying him.
“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked.
Stiles brushed himself off. “Yeah, I think…” he started, looking up at who he’d run into, but then he froze.
He’d run right into the mysterious and beautiful man. He was even more beautiful up close. His eyes carried sadness in them, but also kindness. And those hands holding him up were attached to some gloriously muscular arms that Stiles was going to dream about for the rest of his life.
But he didn’t have more than a few seconds to enjoy the glorious specimen in front of him because the group of spirits behind him started talking. All of them were talking over each other in an effort to be heard. And they were loud!
Over the cacophony of voices, Stiles came to a realization. These people, most likely including the mysterious man, had some sort of supernatural blood.
The vast majority of Stiles’ clients were just regular humans. He could see their spirits and occasionally he could hear an important word, but for them to pass messages over, they had to sign something to him because in general, he only heard incomplete thoughts. Supernatural creatures, on the other hand, were the ones who could communicate to him in proper sentences, and the more powerful they were, the better their spirits could communicate with him. This group in particular had to have been very strong.
The spirits were still jabbering away and Stiles couldn‘t stand it anymore, even though it couldn‘t have been for more than fifteen seconds. “Oh my god, shut up!” he blurted out angrily.
That did have the desired effect of the spirits quieting, but the beautiful man frowned and started turning back to the cart beside him.
That was not what Stiles wanted. Despite not actively seeking the man out, he wasn’t about to squander the golden opportunity right in front of him! “Wait, wait!” he cried out. “I didn’t mean you!”
The man glanced around as if looking for the mysterious person that Stiles had been speaking to. When no one came into view, he merely raised an eyebrow at Stiles as if questioning his sanity.
Oh, those eyebrows. They were so thick and expressive. Stiles imagined having conversations just with those eyebrows. But the man still hadn’t actually moved, so maybe Stiles had a chance at keeping those eyebrows, along with the man attached to him. “Um, anyways, I’m Stiles!” he introduced himself, holding out a hand towards the man.
The man took it. “Derek,” he said.
Stiles grinned. “Hi, Derek. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve seen you from my office.” Oh, god, did that make him sound like a stalker? This meeting was not going well at all. Stiles wished he could just press a restart button just like on his video games.
But the man didn’t seem perturbed. Instead he nodded and even gave Stiles a small cute smile. “Yeah. I’ve seen you, too.”
“Oh, my god!” blurted out one of the spirits, a woman who looked around the same age as Derek, maybe a little older. “Enough with the meet-cute, because you guys are very adorable, but we want--no, we need to talk to him!”
“Don’t mind Laura, dear,” another woman, older than the first one, said. Stiles had the impression that she was the leader of the group of spirits, shook her head with a smile. “She’s just impatient after all these years.”
The other spirits all started talking to them.
“We miss Derek!”
“We wish he knew we were here!”
“It’s not his fault!”
“It’s not!”
“Please,” the female leader said. Stiles wondered if she was Derek’s mother. “He needs to know. He needs to. He can’t keep blaming himself. It’s not healthy for him.”
“Whoa, stop it!” Stiles shouted out again, and suddenly it felt like the world had stopped.
What followed was something like a vision. He could see in his mind memories shown to him by the woman and the rest of the spirits. A younger Derek, maybe around high school age, and a beautiful blonde woman who was clearly older than him kissing in the shadows. The blonde woman and other people setting a house that could only be called a mansion on fire. The spirits when they were alive stuck in the fire, terrified and unable to get out. Derek looking on in horror as he tried to run to the house but being stopped. And through it all, Stiles could smell the smoke and feel the intense heat that the family had undeniably once felt and died from. Before the vision ended, two more images appeared. The first was a group of beautiful wolves, and the second was a group of guns and bows of various sizes.
Stiles shook his head as if that could make him forget the horrible vision he’d had. He knew in an instant that this was how the family had died. The family of werewolves before him, killed by hunters.
Derek was looking at him with both eyebrows raised even higher than before and he was looking like he might run out of the store without his groceries and keep on running.
“Wait!” Stiles blurted out. “I’m not talking to you!”
He was about to break the one rule he had set for himself. Don’t give the messages the spirits had for the living unless the living person asked. But this message needed to be given. The blonde woman set the fire, not Derek. Had he been taken advantage of when he was younger? Stiles was disgusted and he wanted to give Derek a little bit of peace, even if they never saw each other again once they left the aisle in the grocery store. He clearly deserved it.
Derek still hadn’t moved thankfully, though he looked confused and more than a little annoyed, so Stiles just decided to get it all out.
“Derek,” Stiles began. “I know this is gonna sound totally crazy, but I’m a psychic medium and I can see spirits.”
Derek’s eyebrows shot way up and he glanced around himself while biting his lip. Maybe he’d suspected his family was around before even meeting Stiles.
“Yeah,” Stiles whispered. “I see a lot of people around you. They really want you to stop blaming yourself.” Short and sweet. Probably the best way to handle it, Stiles figured. If he wanted to know more, he could ask. The family was all nodding as well, and Stiles bit his lip and hoped Derek wouldn’t be upset.
But Derek’s eyebrows quickly drew down. “Shut up!” he practically roared at Stiles, which made sense if he was a werewolf like the rest of the family. “You have no idea what you’re talking about! Leave me alone!” He abandoned his cart of food and stormed off down the aisle, his family yelling at him to wait or come back. A few seconds later, the tinkle of a bell sounded, meaning Derek had most likely left the store.
Stiles‘ shoulders slumped. “Well, crap,” he said. He almost felt like abandoning his own food, but his pantry and refrigerator were pretty much empty, so he continued on, but his heart wasn’t really in it.
Anything that might have started with Derek was definitely out of the picture now.
**********
“You were so wrong, Lydia,” Stiles told her as he entered her and Jackson’s house the following night. “That was a complete and utter disaster.”
“What happened, Stilinski?” Jackson drawled, coming into the room. “Strike out again?”
“Shut it, Jackson!” Stiles glared at his best friend’s husband.
While Stiles and Lydia had been great friends in school and beyond, Stiles and Jackson had not had the best relationship. In fact, the first couple of years in high school, they hated each other. Jackson had been the ultimate jock, playing football and lacrosse. Stiles, however, had not been blessed with athleticism and had only been a bench warmer for the lacrosse team. Fights had nearly broken out between them at least several times. Somehow, maybe because of Lydia’s influence on both of them, they had managed to settle their differences and actually tolerate each other. Now, Stiles considered Jackson a friend.
“Boys, boys, calm down,” Lydia stepped between them, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, you two act like you're still in high school.” She turned to Stiles. “Now, what happened?”
“Well, I ran into him at the grocery store,” Stiles began. “I found out his name. It’s Derek. And all those spirits are his dead family. They died in a fire.” His voice cracked. Crap, he didn’t want this relationship to be over before it had even begun. After seeing him up close and talking to him, he wanted a chance so badly.
“Oh, Stiles,” Lydia looked sad. She put an arm around him.
Stiles cleared his throat. “Anyways, his family started talking almost immediately. All of them. I had to tell them to give me a minute. Not exactly the best first impression, talking to people who aren’t there.” He sighed dejectedly.
“Talking.” By the glint in Lydia’s eye, Stiles knew that she had immediately come to the correct conclusion. “So they are supernatural.”
“Yeah,” Stiles affirmed. “I think they’re werewolves, and they were killed by hunters.”
Lydia and Jackson both winced. They both knew how vicious some hunters could be, going after innocent beings just because they were werewolves or werecoyotes or were-whatevers. Their shop and houses were warded against anyone who would hurt them or anyone visiting.
“So what happened?” Lydia prompted.
“Well, you know how I vowed that I’d only give messages to people who actually ask me for them…?” Stiles asked sheepishly.
Jackson slapped his hand to his face. “Stilinski, you didn‘t,” he groaned.
There was a pause. “I did…” Stiles admitted.
“You made that vow for a reason, Stiles,” Jackson scolded lightly.
Jackson might not show it often, but it made Stiles smile to know that he had kind of grown on his old nemesis. But the smile quickly faded at the memory of Derek’s glare and angry words. “I know,” he sighed. “But I had to try and help him. His family wanted to get through to him so badly. I would have done anything…”
“The fact that you have a crush on him probably influenced your decision,” Lydia eyed him knowingly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed too hard. Maybe my vision won’t happen anymore. I’m sorry, Stiles.” And she hugged her friend.
Stiles hugged her back tightly. “I don’t even know if he’ll avoid the area around the shop either. Then I wouldn’t even see him. Though if he’s avoiding me that badly, it’s probably better to just rip him out of my life like a band-aid.”
Jackson laughed at Stiles’ ridiculous but true analogy. He clapped Stiles on the back. “You never know,” he said. “Lydia’s visions are pretty accurate. Maybe he really is the one who’ll put up with you for life.”
“Hey!” Stiles frowned.
“If you get to see him, apologize,” Jackson said seriously.
And Stiles remembered how their truce had first begun when Jackson had apologized to him years ago in high school. “I will,” he said. “If I ever see him.”
**********
The Monday after Stiles had gone to Lydia and Jackson’s, the first thing Lydia did when she arrived at the office was to sit down and immediately start laying cards out. “I think he will come,” she told Stiles thoughtfully.
Stiles waited anxiously, trying not to let his nerves affect his ability to communicate with the dead. It didn’t, thankfully, but Derek didn’t pass by.
He didn’t come by the rest of the week either.
Stiles tried not to let it make him sad.
He ended up moping anyways.
**********
Stiles was sitting in his office a few weeks later. He had one more client left for the day, someone named Peter Hale.
There was a soft knock at the office door. Stiles got up from his desk to open the door and welcome Peter in.
But there wasn’t a person named Peter Hale standing at his door. It was Derek, followed by his usual entourage of spirits! Maybe Derek had just been an alias…? But it seemed more likely that Peter was the real alias.
The spirits with Derek were surprisingly silent. Some of them did wave at him. The woman called Laura opened her mouth as if to start talking, but she closed it immediately upon a glare from the older woman.
“Um, hi,” Derek greeted shyly. “I’m sorry for running off that time in the grocery store. I was just really surprised and not ready to hear what you had to say. My uncle Peter said I should come here.”
Stiles‘ jaw was probably still on the ground. Derek was here! Derek was here and talking to him, way more than in the grocery store! “No worries!” he managed to respond. “I try not to tell people what the spirits want to tell them unless the person asks me, but your family was really, really insistent! I’m so sorry!” He scratched his head sheepishly.
“That’s what my uncle said,” Derek said. “Well, he said more, but…” And then the man blushed.
Stiles wasn’t sure he was going to survive this session. His only consolation was that he would die a very happy man to be in the presence of such gorgeousness. But he would do his best to stay professional. “Alright,” he said, “let’s go sit down.”
Derek sat down across from him and looked nervous.
“Okay,” Stiles began. “So I’m a psychic medium. I can see the dead and communicate with them. Most of the time, they have to talk using signs or a few important words. But supernatural people, the stronger they are, the better I can understand them. They can actually say whole sentences and I can convey their messages much more accurately.”
Derek paled. “You mean, you know….”
“Yes, I know you’re a werewolf,” Stiles confirmed. “Your family actually showed me a vision of them as wolves. That is the coolest thing ever.”
Derek, who looked nervous when Stiles identified him and his family, looked relaxed again when Stiles didn’t react badly to the reveal.
Stiles knew why Derek reacted like that. “They showed me what happened to them,” he said softly. “The blonde hunter who took advantage of you.”
“Kate,” Derek mumbled. “Her name was Kate.”
Stiles nodded. “Kate. She took advantage of you.”
“It’s my fault,” Derek said, shaking his head. “This was a mistake, I know it.”
“It’s not his fault,” the female leader said.
“Please make him understand we don’t blame him,” Laura begged.
“No, please stay. Your family really doesn’t blame you at all, I promise,” Stiles begged.
Derek didn’t move, thankfully, but his eyes were darting around as if looking for his family. “Are they really saying that?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Stiles nodded. “They really are saying that.”
“And… how many of them are here?”
“There are…” Stiles counted as they all waved at him, “eight people. There’s one woman in the front. She seems like she definitely in charge. She tries to help keep everyone quiet for me.” He chuckled. Then a flash of red shot through his mind. Oh, of course. How stupid of him to not realize it before! “Is she… the alpha?”
“Yeah,” Derek nodded. “My mom, Talia.”
The woman, Talia, smiled and nodded. She went over to Derek and hugged him, despite the fact that he wouldn’t feel it. “She’s hugging you right now.”
Derek’s eyes widened. He looked longingly at Stiles. “I wish I could feel it… Mom, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” His voice quavered.
“I know,” Talia crooned. “You don’t have to be sorry. You were tricked. You were used. I love you so much!”
As Stiles conveyed Talia’s feelings to Derek, Laura joined in on the hug. “Oh! And there’s a woman hugging you too who looks about your age, says her name is Laura.”
“Yeah, she’s my big sister,” Derek said, a tear falling from his eye but his voice was a little stronger.
“Tell him I love my Der-Bear!” she said.
“?!” Stiles blurted out. That was actually kind of hilarious.
“Oh, god.” Derek kind of shrunk into himself as if trying to hide while sitting in the open. Apparently no one could embarrass someone quite like a big sister could. Stiles was thankful that he was an only child.
A quiet but loving man was next, who Derek identified as his father. “You’re growing into being a great alpha, just like your mom,” he said proudly.
Stiles conveyed everything said to him as one by one, they talked to Derek and tried to hug him. There was even a message for the mysterious uncle Peter from his wife, too. Stiles’ own voice was starting to break. It was obvious that this family had so much love for Derek. It was making his own feelings for the man grow. And they were so encouraging to him as well, sisterly teasing aside.
“Thank you,” Derek said when each family member had said their piece. “Thank you so much.” Tears were falling down his cheeks again, but he was smiling. It was beautiful and genuine and Stiles loved it so much.
Stiles nodded, a soft smile on his face. “It was my pleasure. I had wanted to do that ever since I first saw you walk by our window here. So many people were following you and you looked so sad. My heart just totally went out to you.” His heart… Lydia had been right that Derek would come again. Maybe it was the right time to confess to him, too? He looked into Derek’s eyes. “I have such a crush on you, you know.”
And there was that adorable blush again, and a smile that revealed bunny teeth. How was Derek getting even cuter? “Me, too.”
Stiles almost fell over in shock. “You do?” he got out.
Derek nodded. “Yeah. I liked going by your store. I always hoped that I would get to see you, but I was too afraid to go in. Uncle Peter gave me the kick I needed to face you again.”
Stiles grinned. “You wanna go out with me?” he asked. “I’ll wine and dine you and make your life awesome!”
Derek laughed. “That sounds amazing.” And then he hugged Stiles.
Oh, it was so warm and wonderful. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek as well and just buried his head in Derek’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Stiles.”
Stiles looked up from where he’d buried his head in Derek’s shoulder.
The Hales were all gathered around the pair, Derek’s mother, Talia, in the front. “Thank you for giving him peace,” she continued. “We’d been wanting to tell him all this from pretty much the moment we’d died, but he never could hear us. You are a gift.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Stiles murmured, smiling softly up at her.
“Now that Derek is going to be okay, we can finally move on,” Talia continued.
Stiles felt cold in his chest and he pulled slightly away from Derek, who looked confused. “Move on? Already?” he asked. He had never known them in life, but he didn’t want Derek to lose his family even more than he already had.
Derek’s eyebrows raised in alarm. “No, they can’t move on,” he murmured. “This is the only time I’ve heard from them in years…”
He looked so brokenhearted that Stiles would have move worlds to make him happy again. “See?” he said. “You can’t leave him! Plenty of spirits still hang around! My mom even comes by sometimes!”
Laura laughed. “No, no, silly! Moving on doesn’t mean we’re gone for good! Just that we won’t be there every second of the day trying to communicate, just like your mom does! We’ll come around to check to make sure my baby brother’s okay! And we want to see you two get married! I’ve got dibs on Best Woman!”
A chorus of “Aww”s burst out from the other relatives except Talia, who beamed at them with pride.
**********
“I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss,” the officiant said with joy.
Stiles and Derek gleefully kissed. As the kiss deepened, wolf whistles and cheers burst from the crowd. Derek dipped Stiles low as they exchanged a few more little pecks.
To most of the crowd, it looked like the first couple of rows on Derek’s side and the space next to Derek himself, the Best Man’s position, were empty, as well as the seat next to Stiles’ father in the first row on his side. Stiles knew better, however. Laura stood happily next to Derek as the Best Woman and the rest of Derek’s family sat in the first two rows. And Stiles’ mother sat beside her husband as she beamed at the happy couple.
An hour later after the photos had been taken, the reception tables were packed full of people. Stiles and Derek both had plenty of people they were celebrating with. Except there was one table that looked completely empty to most everyone.
But in the photos that they proudly displayed in the house they bought together, there were nine blurs surrounding them. A perfect image showing that their lives were full of love, not just from each other, but from their families, too, both living and departed.