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In the end, it’s not a gun-toting murderer or any supernatural being that ends his dad’s life. In the end its the inglorious and plain thing Stiles has been worried about since the doctor first brought back his dad’s test results. It’s a heart attack that kills Stiles’ father, one regular Thursday evening when nothing much else was going on. In true Stilinski fashion, it takes 2 months for anyone to figure out that something is wrong.
----
It’s Saturday night when Derek comes back to his newly remodeled house to find someone else in his home- more specifically, someone else in his bed.
“Are you trying to replay every fairytale you can think of?” He asks, as he roughly shakes Stiles’ shoulder to wake him.
A sleepy “Huh?” is all he gets as a reply.
“What are you doing here?” Derek nearly growls. “And why are you in my bed?”
The reminder of where he is jolts Stiles into consciousness and his head whips around, taking in his surroundings.
“I was looking for you?” Stiles doesn’t sound certain. He scoots towards the edge of the bed, as if trying to prepare for a quick getaway. Derek approves of this plan wholeheartedly.
“Unless it is extremely important, get out.” Stiles doesn’t move and Derek inwardly sighs.
“What is it?” He allows exasperation fills his voice.
Stiles seems very small as he poses his question. “How do you deal with it? Being alone?”
“I don’t.” is Derek’s terse reply. “Now would you please leave?”
“Yeah, right. Obviously. You don’t want me here.” Stiles is muttering to himself, talking more than he has since he woke up. “I just didn’t know where to go.” Derek glares at him.
“Right, going.” Stiles rushes from the room and stumbles down the stairs. Derek hears the door slam and a car start before he turns his senses back inside the house to start unpacking his groceries.
-----
Over the next few pack meetings, Derek notices Stiles acting differently. He isn’t talking as much as he normally would or eating as much either. He even misses one or two of the meetings before Derek really notices that something is going on.
A month after the bed incident, Scott finally notices something different about his best friend, though not the things Derek has been quietly noting.
“Dude, you smell!” he exclaims as he sits next to Stiles on the couch. “No, like seriously, what the hell?” He says, not noticing that his question doesn’t really constitute a full statement. Baby steps, Derek thinks, at least this time he actually got to the question before looking confused.
Stiles sighs, not even bothering to look offended or dispute this claim. “Werewolves. Derek, can I use your shower so that I don’t bother Scott’s sensitive nose?”
Derek, stunned by this request-- really, his shower? Not something he expected his pack to be borrowing-- nods quickly and points up the stairs in the vague direction of the bathroom. Everyone else is too enthralled by the order-in chinese food to wonder about Stiles for very long.
Stiles returns from his shower and the pack meeting finishes. Everyone goes their separate ways, except Allison and Scott, who are, of course, joined at the hip. Derek wouldn’t be surprised if they started fusing together, simply from spending so much time trying to occupy the exact same space and failing. A few hours pass, during which Derek acts like a housewife and resolves never to tell anybody. Because, being totally honest, the pack are teenagers, and teenagers, god do they make one hell of a mess. During this time, it takes Derek revisiting today’s events with Stiles and his behavior in the past month for him to realize he is worried about Stiles. Like, really worried. Granted, the kid is a pain in the ass, never shuts up (or used to) and totally human, but Derek’s pack had had humans in it before and they had always been considered just as much a part of the pack as the wolves. Stiles had sort of grown on Derek, as much as he was disinclined to admit it to anyone else. So yeah, he was worried about Stiles. And it couldn’t hurt to just pop by Stiles’ house and make sure he was okay. So that’s what he decides to do.
---
When he finds Stiles’ house silent and more than empty, Derek starts to get suspicious. There are no cars parked in the driveway, not Stiles’ beloved Jeep or the Sheriff’s cruiser. Derek assumes the Sheriff is at work, but has no idea where Stiles could be, especially since Stiles’ bed smells like it hasn’t been slept in in a really long time. There’s dust gathering on surfaces on the house and Derek really doesn’t know what to make of it. The Sheriff must be working long hours, and Stiles must be... somewhere else. He knows Stiles isn’t with Scott, Scott has smelled too much like Allison and sex recently to be spending a lot of time with Stiles. Derek isn’t left much of a choice- he doesn’t know where Stiles is and he is starting to get more than a little worried- so he does something he’s not proud of. He goes outside and starts to search for Stiles- using his nose.
Eventually he comes across Stiles, Derek becomes even more confused. He followed the scent of Stiles-and-Jeep into the forest, on one of the few forgotten dirt roads that is actually passable by car. He finds Stiles three miles into the woods, parked in his Jeep, toothbrush in hand. Derek takes a moment to take in the surroundings as comprehension floods through him. The area around the truck has been well travelled recently, grass and undergrowth trampled low by tire tracks and many footprints. Off to the side, Derek can smell urine and toothpaste- having a super sensitive nose isn’t always a glamourous thing. Watching Stiles from the shadows, his suspicions are confirmed. Stiles hops out of his car, walks to the edge of the clearing where he brushes his teeth, spits, before crawling into the back of his Jeep and into a sleeping bag. Stiles has been camping here for who knows how long, but Derek can tell it’s been a while. He doesn’t understand why, but all the other clues add up- the dusty room, the slightly stronger Stiles smell (Scott was the only one oblivious enough to mention it), and also, Derek remembers the quiet ‘I didn’t know where else to go’. That last one gives him unexpected feelings- his stomach clenches and he feels a flash of shame. Maybe if he would have taken the time to listen, this clearing wouldn’t be so well used. He silently backs away into the forest. He’s going to fix this.
-----
When Stiles gets out of school the next day, he’s a little surprised to see Derek standing by his car with shopping bags, but not very. It says something about his life that Derek Hale randomly appearing doesn’t surprise him anymore. Stiles isn’t sure what it says, but honestly, he’d rather not know. Stiles gets to his car and stands there, staring at Derek, not willing to make the first move.
“I need you to drive me home.” Derek says.
“No.” There isn’t really any fight to the opposition, just the pretense of an argument. Stiles thinks Derek might sense this. Either that, or he’s just barreling on with his demands like usual. Werewolves.
“Can’t exactly run with these,” he holds up the groceries and then opens the car door. Shit, Stiles forgot to lock it again. That should be incentive for him to lock his doors from now on- no more creepy, anger infused werewolves gaining entry to his car. Nah, it’s pointless, Stiles will forget again in a week anyway. Stiles sighs and gets into the car. Honestly, his life.
When they get to the house, Derek shoves a carton of milk in his hands. “Bring this into the house.” Stiles does because he’s given up trying to ignore Derek’s orders, overall it’s led to 85% less sudden acquaintance with objects like walls and steering wheels. Stiles walks into the kitchen, coming face to face with Derek, who is lurking by the fridge. Derek corners him before he can put the milk away and make his escape. Stiles isn’t going leave without putting the milk in the fridge, that’s just rude. But he’s not worried about that right now because Derek is very very close in his personal space and he is trying to do his best to look off into the distance and not think about anything remotely related to how much heat Derek’s body is putting off or how this is the most normal he’s felt since his dad died or how he honestly cannot stop rambling in his head because Derek is RIGHT THERE OH MY GOD and--- “Stiles.”
“Mghhh?” He manages.
“Your car smells like you’ve been living in it. I can’t help it, I could smell it. You can’t have my bed, but you know, I do have a lot of empty rooms in this house. No questions asked. Probably more comfortable than your Jeep.” He backs away, but Stiles stays frozen in the corner, shocked. “I’m going out.” Derek announces, and that is that, he’s gone.
----
Derek thinks that the least threatening way to make this offer is to make it and then flee. Stiles can think on his own, without being rushed or watched. Derek is happy to see, when he comes back a couple of hours later, that Stiles’ Jeep is still sitting in his driveway. Stiles is no where to be found inside the house, but one of the previously empty rooms is now closed and the shower has been used. Alright, Derek thinks, at least it’s better than the Jeep and the clearing.
They form a tentative living situation over the next few days, skirting around each other, talking a little. They never mention the fact that Stiles is living in Derek’s house, or the reason behind it. Derek thinks he has an idea of what is going on, but he squashes it before he can explore the idea. He doesn’t want to know- Stiles doesn’t want him to know, and the idea has a sad tint to it that Derek is happy to ignore.
----
Another month passes. Stiles and Derek live together more comfortably, becoming unlikely friends. Derek started this off to take care of one of his pack, but instead found that he liked Stiles more than he could have ever imagined. They still didn’t talk about why Stiles was living with him, but Derek was beginning to see that the non-questions were making Stiles jumpy and restless. He didn’t understand that Derek was perfectly content to not know why Stiles chose to live with him. Derek knows that soon, he wont have that luxury anymore.
A week later, Stiles says out of the blue “I couldn’t go back there.” And Derek just looks at him. Looks at him and sees that while Stiles still isn’t back to his normal self, he’s certainly much better off than he was two months ago. “Come on.” Stiles says, and walks out the door. What choice does Derek have but to follow?
They end up at the cemetery. Stiles walks the rows like he knows his way (he does), like he’s been here hundreds of times (he has). He pulls off to the side and stands in front of two headstones, set apart from the rest of the row and clearly together. Derek knows what they will say. He comes to stand besides Stiles, looking down at the graves of Mr. and Mrs. Stilinski.
“When?” is all he has to ask before Stiles is pouring out everything. It all comes rushing out of him- how his father had a heart attack, how he asked Mrs. McCall to file the papers that were necessary, but to not tell anyone, even Scott. He visited the station and asked them to please, please keep quiet. He’d finally lost everyone and he just wanted to be alone, just for a while. They agreed not to tell people, after all they had known Stiles since he was six years old, they had seen him after his mother’s death, they understood he wanted to grieve. It was plain Stiles had told no one else this- he wasn’t close enough to anyone in the pack to tell besides Scott, and Scott was off in Allison-land. Stiles had no one to talk to- and then Derek remembered that Stiles had tried to talk to him, that day in his bed, had asked him how he dealt with being alone. And Derek had shrugged him off with a frivolous answer and practically kicked him out the door. It had taken him another month to notice Stiles was living in his own car.
“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say, and it definitely wasn’t enough. He tried to put every thought and feeling of remorse into the words. He hoped they helped. If not, he did what he could by standing at Stiles side as he looked down at his parent’s graves. Not touching, but being near, so maybe Stiles wasn’t so alone anymore.