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He thinks it should be black when he finally passes. He thinks it should be dark and hot and scary and not at all good because good is not what he deserves. Good is for people like Scott who has a pure heart or Allison who tries to do the right thing despite her family or Danny who always has a smile and kind word. Good is for people like Stiles who’s kindness and love know no bounds, who would do anything for anyone no matter what it costs him. Good is not for Derek.
But it is good. The first thing he registers is that he’s lying on a cool surface, soft. There’s a brightness behind his eyes and he opens them slowly. Sunlight streams through branches, filtering into the meadow in golds and pale greens. There’s a cool breeze that flows over his exposed skin and he realizes he’s only in a pair of jeans. The wind soothes the heat that the sun sends down and it’s a nice combination. He blinks a few times before he sits up.
He’s in the forest, yes, but…its not his forest. It’s not his family’s forest. This place is beautiful, flowers of all colors sprouting around him. He sees bright violets, snow white daisies, pale lavender blossoms, dark indian paintbrushes, bloody red corn poppies, and bushes of bleeding hearts towards the edge of the clearing.
He hears rustling and is immediately on his feet, eyes sweeping the perimeter for the threat. That’s when he sees her. Laura steps out from the tree line gracefully; feet bare, dark hair loose and shrouding her shoulders, and dressed in a bright red sun dress.
“Hey, little brother,” she greets softly as he straightens out of his defensive stance.
“Laura?” he asks softly, not quite believing.
She gives him her signature smile and nods, reaching out when she’s close enough and running delicate fingers over his jaw.
“Am I dead?” Derek whispers, afraid for the answer even though he knows it was what he had wanted.
“Not yet, no. The boy, the spastic one, he found you. He’s trying to heal you as we speak so we don’t have much time,” she replies easily. “Why don’t we sit?”
A wooden log bench appears out of seemingly thin air and she gestures him towards it. He follows her and perches carefully on the bench.
“I just…thought that it would be better for everyone involved,” Derek tries to explain, his voice low and soft as his shoulders hunch in on themselves. “I didn’t want anyone to hurt because of me.”
Laura rolls her eyes and smacks his forehead with the flat of her palm. “You’re an idiot if you think that offing yourself wouldn’t hurt that boy,” she tells him, giving him a stern disapproving look.
“I made him cry, Laura. And everything is just so…fucked. I feel like I’m drowning in…in tar or something. It keeps dragging me down every time a piece of me breaks free. I didn’t know what else to do. Sure, he might miss me but…he’ll get over it and move on and not be dragged down by me.” Derek feels like he should be crying or something but he can’t muster up the energy.
“Derek, sweetie. Don’t you see it? Stiles loves you and there’s no way that’s changing, regardless of whether or not you live. Which, ahem, you will live because it’s not your time yet and I’m kicking your sorry ass back to reality.” Laura runs her fingers through his dark hair. “I know it’s not been easy, Bear. Trust me. It hasn’t been easy for the rest of us either. We miss you so so much. And I know that sometimes joining us seems like the only way to feel okay again. But it’ll get better, I promise. Not right away, nothing happens right away. But slowly, eventually, things will be okay.”
Derek sees her form shimmer in front of him and he reaches for her but she’s no longer corporeal. “Derek, I have to go and so do you. Listen to me carefully, okay?” she says even as she starts to fade away. “Trust Stiles. He loves you and he just wants you to be happy. Let him in. Don’t push him away. I love you, Bear. We all love you. Take care of yourself!”
And just like that she’s gone and the forest floor drops from underneath him and he’s coughing and gasping, writhing on the hard ground and wet and naked and there’s so much pain. It’s like fire in his veins and he wants to rip it out, smother it with cool water. It’s everywhere though; in his chest, his arms, his legs, his head, and he can’t register anything else. But slowly it starts to recede, from his fingers and toes first, drawing closer to one point in his forearm until its gone and he feels okay.
He notices the warm hands on him first and then the salty droplets falling on his face and he opens his eyes to meet Stiles’ gaze. Stiles is crying, broken but relieved sobs wracking his body and making him spasm randomly.
“God, Derek,” Stiles chokes out and then drags Derek into his arms against his chest, hugging him tight and running thin fingers through his hair like Laura had moments before. Only it’s different and Derek wants to be okay for him. He decides then that he’ll do whatever he has to just to be okay, no matter what it takes, or how much time has to pass; and maybe he’ll never be okay again. But he wants to try and he wants to be his best for this boy who saved him and has been saving him since they first met.
“I’m so sorry,” Derek whispers as he hugs Stiles back. “I’m so sorry.”