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It’s always like a low grade pressure. Pushing down on his temples; settling on his chest; wrapping around his wrists like shackles.
The grief.
Knowing your entire family burned alive because of a mistake you made will do that to you. That’s a lot of guilt to carry around.
The pack doesn’t know the full extent. Well, the betas don’t. Allison has some idea, especially if the looks she’s been giving Derek lately are indicators of anything.
Stiles knows.
That had been a particularly horrifying conversation. Telling your boyfriend that the last person you were in a relationship with lit your house on fire and burner your entire family alive is hardly stellar foreplay. But Stiles took it like anyone would have expected – he took Derek by the hand, forced him to lie down with his head in Stiles’ lap; fingers winding through his hair, and explained in excruciating detail how none of it was Derek’s fault, and if he continued to think it was then he was a colossal idiot.
But the grief was still there.
Especially on Laura’s birthday.
Those were the worst days.
Because they’d cried together. They’d mourned together. And Peter had taken her away from him. She wasn’t there to call him names anymore; wasn’t there to roll her eyes whenever he did something stupid. But it wasn’t what she couldn’t do anymore that stung so much. It was what she wouldn’t get to do.
She would never have kids. She would never get married. She would never meet Stiles. She would never get to just live.
“She would’ve loved you, you know?” The words floated softly across the air, startling Stiles from where he was standing in the right corner of the room, staring idly into the closet still shirtless and with his pyjama pants low on his hips. “Laura. She would’ve loved you. The two of you would’ve teamed up against me, teased me about how I need to lighten up.”
Stiles had turned fully around by now, the celtic triskele across his ribs fully visible and stark against his pale skin. It was always times like this, when Derek talked about his family that Stiles’ brown eyes melted into something a little softer. His now molten gold irises were fixed intently on Derek, not saying anything to disturb the sombre serenity that filled the room.
“The two of you would’ve made my life hell actually,” Derek chuckled, “but I would’ve put up with it because both of you would’ve been ridiculously happy.” Derek felt more than saw Stiles move. He glanced up just as Stiles grabbed his phone.
Pushing his speed dial, Stiles brought the phone to his ear, “Hey, dad. Look, I’m gonna have to cancel on today. Yeah, everything’s fine. Yeah. Thanks dad. Love you too, bye.”
Tossing his phone onto the bedside cabinet Stiles nudged the closet door shut with his hip and shuffled back to the bed. Crawling up the mattress, he leaned over the headboard and pulled the blinds closed, already arranging the pillows to his liking. He leant back against them whilst simultaneously burrowing further under the covers and reaching for Derek.
Derek threw a leg in between Stiles’ and snuggled his face into the junction where neck met shoulder, throwing an arm over Stiles’ bare torso. One of Stiles’ hands settled in Derek’s hair, his fingers scratching idly across his scalp whilst the other trailed up and down Derek’s spine.
Derek shifted and let the memories of Laura completely wash over him. He took a deep breath and titled his face up, finding Stiles already gazing at him from under his eye lashes.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.”