Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

***

After the battle with the alphas, there’s an exchange of looks between everyone. In the deep darkness of the forest you can still see how everyone is injured, some worse than others, but they’re all alive. They survived this and finally, the nightmare is over.

While the werewolves are slowly healing, the humans only have a few bruises. Allison has a few scratches, but they’re nothing to make Chris and Scott worry about. Chris on the other hand, got his arm hurt when he was thrown against a tree, but even that will heal. With Lydia properly dressed for battle, thanks to Allison, her scratches are nothing major either. Stiles probably twisted his ankle while running, but he’s fine too. Everyone is ok and everyone will finally have some peace to properly heal.

Derek, being the alpha, is healing faster than the others. So while his pack goes back to the train station, he drives Scott and Stiles home. There’s not much talk or anything at all. Stiles is on the back of the Camaro while Scott is on the passenger seat with his window opened. It feels good to have the wind blowing on your face, but Derek knows it’s not just that. The car reeks of blood, they all do. It’s that desire of getting everything behind their backs, of forgetting the horrors that happened tonight. Derek looks at the mirror to find Stiles a bit pale, but also tired, which is totally understandable. Even Derek feels tired and he’s scared to have a proper look at his own face too. Still, Derek can’t stop himself by asking Stiles if he’s ok. That startles Scott and he looks behind him to have a proper look at his friend.

“I’m fine.” And although they are used to these words a lot more than they should, Derek and Scott are still looking at Stiles. He does seem fine, but-

“Eyes on the road, please.” And that’s it. Derek rolls his eyes and turns his gaze to the road, while Scott gives Stiles one of his apologetic smiles and he too turns his back. Everything is at it should be. Everything is fine.

Derek drops Scott while Stiles jumps to the front to take Scott’s seat, gracious as ever. The way to Stiles’ place is silent, which should be uncomfortable except that tonight it’s not. The last days were filled with thoughts that some of them would probably not survive this, but they all did. So there’s that to celebrate. In silence, because if there are words for moments like this most of them are regrets on the next day.

***

They reach Stiles’ house and before opening his door to leave, Stiles faces Derek.

“Thank you” and only then he opens the door. It’s a slow recognition of what Derek did hours ago in battle and for what he’s doing now. Taking care of them. It’s not like Stiles to thank Derek, but he means it. Derek just nods as Stiles gets out and closes the door behind him. Normally, Derek would drive away now, but not tonight. He watches the dark house in front of him without any sign of the Sheriff being inside. Part of him doesn’t want to leave Stiles alone, not after all of what happened tonight, after what the boy saw tonight. So he doesn’t leave. He will, though. But he feels that the right thing to do now is to wait for Stiles to go inside. A place where he will be safe for the rest of the night.

Derek watches Stiles reach his doorstep and patiently waits while the boy tries to find his keys in his hoodie. Stiles starts to slowly lean down towards the ground and Derek thinks that he let his keys fall, so he sighs, because that’s so typical of Stiles. He only has time to blink once before he sees Stiles fall. Derek doesn’t breathe when he’s leaving the car and running towards Stiles. When he reaches the boy, he yells for his name. And yells.

“Stiles! Stiles! Wake up Stiles! Stiles!”

Derek tries to look for something. Something that tells him what the hell is happening. There’s the smell of blood, but there’s no blood dropping and apart from the damaged hoodie, he can’t understand what the hell is wrong with Stiles. His heartbeat is slow and after many shouts, Stiles finally opens his eyes to look at Derek. He’s pale, he’s so pale. Even in the dark night, Derek can see how wrong his skin color is. His eyes are not the amber color that Derek is used to, it’s like life is being sucked out from him. And Stiles is trying to talk, but he can’t. Derek watches him trying, but every time he does it’s like he can’t breathe.

“Stiles, you’re going to be ok. Please stay awake. Please! Stiles!”

And he’s out again. Derek needs to do something. His hands are all over Stiles’ body, but he can’t still feel anything wrong, so what’s happening?! There’s no wound, no blood- suddenly there’s blood coming out from Stiles’ mouth. Everything Derek lived in the past hours it’s nothing compared to this moment. This is a real nightmare. This can’t be happening. He thinks, he tries to think. He needs to do something. He decides that it’s best if he takes Stiles to the hospital himself, because he can’t wait. There’s a lot to lose and he can’t lose Stiles, not like this, not after everything they’ve been through. For fuck sake, they just won! A battle where some of them could have died or even all of them. There was no guarantee of winning, so how is this fair now? Why is this happening?

Derek holds Stiles in his arms and heads for the Camaro, his door still opened. He drives so fast like he never thought he would. One second his gaze is on the road and a second later on Stiles. It’s terrifying, because he can’t listen to Stiles breathing and the smell of blood is now too much. Stiles’ heart beat too slow and too low even for his werewolf senses. Derek doesn’t realize he’s still calling for Stiles’ name and he has tears coming down on his face. When Derek realizes he’s actually losing Stiles, he drives faster and focuses on the road. He calls Scott and maybe yells at him without wanting, but there’s no way he can tell Scott what’s happening with a calm voice. He yells like he’s mad at Scott, and he is. He’s so mad with everyone, with the world, with the alphas, with everything, because it’s everyone’s fault except Stiles’. Stiles didn’t ask for this, he should never have been involved and Derek knew that. He knew and that’s the worst, because he never once tried to keep Stiles away. It’s actually the opposite, because Stiles was never a liability on Derek’s mind, he’s a strong ally and Derek wants to keep him in his pack, but now… Now Derek is angry and above all he’s angry with himself.

***

They finally get to the hospital where Melissa is already waiting, because that was the first thing that crossed Scott’s mind when Derek called him. Scott was already rushing there, but like Derek told him: there was no time. Stiles had no time and every second mattered. As they take him inside, Derek ignores the voices around him telling him to stay back, to wait. To wait?! How can he wait? Stiles is dying and he can’t save him like he did so many times before. He can beat the crap out of supernatural monsters and drag them away from Stiles, but he can’t protect Stiles from what he is… a human. Stiles is human and Derek keeps forgetting about it, because Stiles is also strong, so strong. And if he could talk right now he would probably tell Derek that it’s going to be ok, but Stiles is not talking. Stiles’ eyes are closed and he’s paled like the white walls around them. There’s the blood coming out from his mouth and there are people undressing him, cutting off his clothes to look at his chest. That’s when horror comes to Derek’s face.

Derek couldn’t feel any wounds when he was alone with Stiles, but now with the strong white lights and his chest uncovered, he sees a big purple stain on Stiles’ chest. It’s so ugly and so not like Stiles. He realizes it was from the battle, the way Stiles was beaten, but Derek got there in time, so why?! Stiles was getting up while he was fighting the other alpha. He saw Scott helping him and he heard Stiles telling him he was fine, so why?! He is clearly not fine and Derek isn’t the only one to realize this. The nurses and doctors around him are also surprised with the sight. Melissa keeps yelling at him.

“What happened? WHAT HAPPENED?! Tell me what happened!” Derek could hear her, he could, but he had the same questions. How the hell did this happen? He got there in time, so how?

As Derek stood there, they took Stiles away down the hall and he saw him go. He probably stood there for quite some time, because the next thing he remembers is Scott bumping into him with the same questions as Melissa. He couldn’t bear to ask the most important question though. How is Stiles? From Derek’s face, Scott knew it wasn’t good and he was starting to panic and walking around in circles. Then he stopped with realization on his face.

“His father… We must tell him.” And that’s when Derek looked at him. How could he tell Stiles’ father that his son was dying? The only thing he had left in his world was dying a few rooms ahead. How could he even face him? And Derek doesn’t know if he said that out loud or if Scott just knew, because next thing he hears from Scott is: “We must tell him”. With that, Scott grabs his cell phone and calls the Sheriff.

Hours passed with no news. No news at all. At one time, the Sheriff went inside only to be brought outside again by one of the nurses, who was yelling at him that he should let them do their jobs and he couldn’t just get inside because he was the sheriff. Those hours looked like days and every time the Sheriff moved, Derek thought “It’s now; this is the moment where he will ask us why Stiles got so hurt. Why is Derek here? What will he do if Stiles dies?” Derek didn’t want to talk at all; instead he concentrated on listening what was going on. He knew Scott was trying to do the same and sometimes they would share a look that would say “there’s too much going on, I can’t listen properly.” And they really couldn’t, because there was too much noise.

***

It was almost morning when Melissa came out, obviously tired. The three of them stood up as she came to them. There were too many questions on everyone’s minds, but they let her talk, because they had to. Derek could hear her heart beating fast, despite being so tired. She was clearly choosing her words carefully. What do you say in times like this?

“Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please”, words that couldn’t leave Derek’s mind, like a prayer. Melissa breathed heavily and finally spoke.

“I’m not going to say he’s ok or that he will be ok. There was an internal bleeding and he already had blood filling his lungs when he got here”, while she said this, her gaze turned to Derek. “Time was crucial and if he had gotten here later…” She couldn’t say it and even though she was trying to tell them that Derek saved Stiles’ life, he felt like he almost killed Stiles. He was no hero.

“The surgery took hours and they did everything they could. You have to believe me, I was there the whole time.” Derek could see the tears forming around her eyes, because, of course after all these years, Melissa was the closest thing Stiles had to a mother. In front of him was a mother trying to save a son and keep her professional posture at the same time, but Derek could feel her pain and that was the worst. He hurt one more person, someone he barely knows, but who clearly loves Stiles.

“We’ll be watching him for the next twenty four hours. The doctors are afraid that if he doesn’t show any signs by then he might… We’ll just have to wait and see, ok?” her eyes stopped on the Sheriff and she was now holding him with her hands on his shoulders. Tears fell down the Sheriff’s face, the first ones Derek realized. The Sheriff showed up scared and angry, but so scared. While they were waiting his scared face turned into something with no emotions, like life had been taken out from him. But now those emotions were flowing and he started to cry. Derek could listen his heart beating faster and faster. Without thinking he was reaching for the Sheriff’s shoulder and that’s when Scott did it first, so Derek stepped back. Watching Scott lean into the Sheriff to give him support with Melissa in front of them doing the same… Derek felt out of place. He didn’t belong here, this was a family matter. No, he couldn’t leave. He would stay in the shadows like always, but he would not leave until he was sure Stiles would be fine.

Melissa let the Sheriff get into the intensive care to look at Stiles’ room through a window, while Derek and Scott stayed at the waiting room. Again the waiting. Then suddenly Scott, without taking his eyes off the ground said:

“You can go now… No point being here I guess. I’ll stay. No doubt the Sheriff will stay too.” Derek stilled for a moment. He didn’t want to leave. The last time he left Stiles, he fell on the ground, blood coming out from his mouth as he slowly lost his senses. No, he couldn’t leave – the same sentence repeating on his mind. A few minutes passed before Derek knew what to tell Scott.

“He would kill me” and Scott raised his gaze to look at him, confused. Derek met his eyes, looking for the first time at him after long hours of waiting. Scott’s eyes were so red. He had been crying and Derek didn’t even notice.

“He would kill me if I let you two here alone. I’ll stay”, with that Scott actually managed a smile, because it was true. That was so like Stiles. As they were waiting, Derek thought what Stiles would say if Derek left Scott and his dad by themselves. Then he realized that he would probably not say anything. If Scott left his dad alone, yes he would kill him for sure. But what about Derek? No, Derek knew his place. Stiles wouldn’t like the idea of having Scott and his dad alone waiting for news, but he wouldn’t get mad at him. When Derek did even showed him that he cared? That feeling was worse than having a bullet in his heart. Derek saved Stiles, yes, countless of times, but so did Stiles. And those were life or death situations, does that count for care? Derek realized that maybe Stiles wouldn’t mind if he left.

As those thoughts crossed Derek’s mind, he realized he did care for Stiles and he never once showed him that. This was his fault: the fight with the alphas, his pack getting hurt, Stiles almost dying and now waiting to know if he would be a vegetable his entire life or not. All of this was hurting Derek, though the fact that Stiles didn’t know that he cared… That Stiles might be gone even before Derek tells him or shows him that he does care. That thought right there was killing Derek.

***

Hours passed and soon the waiting room had more people. Allison, Lydia, Isaac, Danny and even Jackson. As soon as Derek saw Isaac, his tired face turned into worry, but Isaac assured him that Erica and Boyd were alright and keeping guard, waiting to be updated on Stiles’ state.

Allison and Scott tried to make the Sheriff to eat something. The man was pale and looked so tired. If Stiles was here he would strangle them all for not taking care of his father. Only Melissa with her motherly and sergeant look was able to make him eat a sandwich and drink some juice. The many times that she would walk into the waiting room, they would all flinch waiting for some good news, but nothing came.

Derek hated that clock in front of them. He hated it so much, because, yes the waiting felt like a hell of a lot time, but the idea of Stiles not waking up in twenty four hours made him want to stop that clock. To stop time. To turn back. Where would he go back though? Derek started to remember all the times Stiles should have stayed away and guilt rushed into him. He realized that all those times Stiles was in danger, Derek put him there. When Peter woke up from his coma, Derek sent Stiles to the hospital alone and he could have died right there. Yes, Derek didn’t know Peter was the alpha or that he wasn’t in a coma anymore, but did that mattered? He still relied on Stiles’ help. How about the pool accident? Derek told Erica to bring Stiles to him. So many events crossed his mind and the realization was the same. Maybe he could go back to when Stiles helped him when he had a bullet in his arm. Yes, maybe if he had never went to the school that day, because that was the first time and after that it was like Stiles saving Derek and Derek saving Stiles was some sort of crazy curse. Derek knows he would have died that day if it wasn’t for Stiles and Scott. To his own surprise, that didn’t matter anymore. So while looking at the clock, he kept visualizing that day, hoping that if going back in time is possible, it would take him there.

“You’re such a dumbass werewolf! Of course it’s possible! They’ve been testing that stuff for years and I bet the government already knows how to do it, but they’re keeping it a secret.” Derek could almost hear Stiles saying that to him and he would laugh now if the people that Stiles loves and love him back, weren’t sitting with him waiting for news.

***

As the night came, some of them fell asleep, because everyone refused to go home. Not until they knew what was going to happen. The hospital was now awfully quiet and although Derek had his eyes closed, he wasn’t sleeping, not yet. That’s when he heard steps and when he opened his eyes it was Melissa.

They shared a look for a few seconds, then she looked around the room while Derek turned his back too. If the situation wasn’t bad enough, this would almost look like a comedy. Everyone was sleeping and all of them in really awkward uncomfortable positions. Some were leaned to each other and others, like Isaac, were stretched around. The Sheriff was leaned against the wall, far back and only now Derek realized how far he was from the rest of the group. Derek swallowed, because he knew why. Being near the others would keep him wondering of why his son was in the intensive care when the rest of his friends were fine. Apart from Allison, who had a few visible scratches on her face, the rest of them were fine. It was like Stiles took the beating for all of them. The Sheriff was a good person, he did not wish for another person’s harm, but this was his son and Derek knew how selfish someone can be during a time like this. “It should have been him, not my son, my only son, my family.”

Derek almost forgot about Melissa when he heard a little cough behind him. She sat on her knees in front of him and quietly said:

“He opened his eyes for a moment”, her voice was so low to not wake up the others, but to Derek it was like the only noise in the room. He opened his eyes – those words didn’t left his mind until she spoke again.

“It’s a good sign, but they want to be sure, ok?” Derek could hear his own heart beat now. He slowly nodded as Melissa did the same, to assure him she was telling the truth.

“Will you tell them for me if they wake up? It’s not much and I don’t want to wake them now. I will though, if he shows any more signs” and Derek nodded again without saying anything. Just like that, Melissa stood up and presented him with a little reassuring smile before leaving him. Derek repeated to himself “he opened his eyes”, while staring at his shaking hands.

***

The next time, Melissa got back into the waiting room, it was already midnight. She was not surprised to see that Derek was still not sleeping and he knew the news were good when he saw her smile. She tilted her head to the rest of the group and with that, both of them started to wake up them up. Melissa woke up the Sheriff as Derek did the same with Scott, who, by moving, woke up Allison and so on.

“I have some good news. A few hours ago he opened his eyes for a few moments and since then he’s been showing more signs, like moving his hands and trying to breathe on his own.” Everyone flinched at that, but no one had time to ask any questions before Melissa continued.

“He still needs the tube to help him breathe, we want to be sure he will be able to do it on his own before taking it out. His lungs suffered a lot from this, so it’s important to be sure…” Her eyes averted to the Sheriff. “I know I’ve said you should go home to rest, countless times by now, but if you want to stay… I’m going to let you wait by his side.” The Sheriff’s face was so thankful and hopeful. “I think he will like to see you once he opens his eyes again.” Turning her gaze back to the others, she finished by saying “I’ll make sure to tell him you are all here when he’s conscious, but for now you should go home and rest. You will want to visit him when he’s allowed to, right? So go home and rest.” The tone was tender and motherly; something that Derek didn’t felt like he deserve.

***

Exhaustion won at the end of the day. They knew the Sheriff wouldn’t come out soon, not until Stiles woke up. Melissa promised to take care of him even when she didn’t need to, because they already knew she would. It’s funny how these kids that can never stop talking and babbling all day, are now silently looking at each other. Everyone is tired and Melissa was right when she said they would want to visit Stiles, so they needed some rest now. Derek stood up and turned to face them.

“Go. I’ll stay and keep you updated”, clearly meant for Scott, who would make sure everyone else knew if something changed. Of course Scott did not agree with this, but thankfully Allison was there to change his mind. They agreed about turns, Derek would be first, which Isaac protested, because he was worried about him. Though, Derek dismissed him saying he was fine, he wasn’t tired, not really.

He didn’t sit up again until everyone was gone. Now, alone, he finally let a big breathe out. His glance turned to the door where the nurses would come and go. Pain strikes him again. He also wanted to be there, in that room. He knew he didn’t have that right, but he couldn’t help himself by wanting.

He tried to imagine Stiles in that hospital bed, with tubes and machines around him. With that image on his mind, he closed his eyes hard. Soon as he did it, he saw Stiles’ bruised chest and his unconscious look. Derek took his hands to his face, pressing his fingers hard on his forehead. He wanted to see something else, something that would give him hope, a happy Stiles. Had he seen Stiles happy before? Of course he saw Stiles smiling and also mocking him, but happy? Was Stiles happy? A seventeen year old boy who lost his mother too soon; his best friend turned into a werewolf and he was now mixed with more werewolves who put his life at risk every day. No, Stiles couldn’t be happy with that.

This was killing Derek on the inside. He remembers the last time he felt like this, but not quite. When his family died his mind was full of “if’s” and Laura would tell him “It’s not your fault. There’s nothing we can do now.” That right there was true. He couldn’t do anything for his family, he couldn’t do anything for Laura. He couldn’t, because they were dead and you can’t bring the dead back. But Stiles wasn’t dead and Derek wants to do something. He wants Stiles to know he cares, that he really cares. He wants Stiles to know he’s thankful for Stiles saving him. He wants Stiles to know how important he is for the pack, for him. He wants Stiles to know he trusts him. He wants Stiles to know that he was scared to death for losing him. He wants Stiles to know that he would never forgive himself. He wants Stiles to listen everyday how much Derek likes him and how much… How much he wants Stiles to be happy.

He was now fighting the tears that wanted to fall down on his face, because it was true. Derek wants Stiles to know all of this, he really wants it and he knows he won’t be able to keep this for himself. He doesn’t want that either, but- and now he laughs to himself. What right does he have of Stiles? Sure Stiles deserves to know, he deserves to be happy, but Derek? Derek never makes anyone happy. That’s a very naïve thought when everything around him just turns out wrong. Although he wants to do the right thing now, he also knows he can’t wish. He can’t wish for Stiles to accept all of what he needs to tell him.

Chapter Text

***

“Stiles! STILES! Stay with me! Stiles! Come on, please! STILES!”

“Derek…” he tries to say, but he can’t. Suddenly it’s all black.

***

Stiles doesn’t know where he is. The constant beeping woke him up. He tries to breathe and that’s when he feels it. There’s a tube on his throat and he chokes, opening his eyes. As soon as he does it, he sees his father. Fear on his face while he’s saying something. Stiles tries to move, to get out from wherever he is. His eyes go wide and he chokes again and again. His dad is calling for him, but Stiles’ eyes leave him soon enough to study his surroundings. The hospital. I’m in one of the hospital rooms, he tells himself. Stiles can feel his father’s hands on him, trying to calm him down, so he looks back. His father is breathing heavily, like it costs him to do so. His eyes are so red and that’s when Stiles’ realizes for how long his dad has been crying. He wants to reach him, to hold him and tell him he’s fine, but he can’t. There’s no strength in his arms and he can’t talk. He chokes again, tears forming in his eyes.

“Stiles! Look at me! You’re fine! Son, you’re fine, just- I’m going to call a nurse. Stay calm, please!” Stiles blinks, letting one of the tears escape. He watches his father go and looks around again. Too many machines and he’s alone. He knows this is bad. It’s bad when you’re alone in a room, it means the patient is still in danger.

His thoughts don’t last for long, because when he looks down he sees his dad rushing inside with Melissa and a doctor.

“Hello Stiles. This is Dr. Smith, he’s going to look at you, ok dear?” Stiles watches Melissa pat his head, but quickly turns to the doctor. He greets him with a short sympathetic smile, but Stiles doesn’t want smiles right now. He wants to talk; he wants to know what the hell happened. Last thing he remembered was going home with Scott and Derek. He remembers dropping Scott off. He remembers being in the car with Derek. He remembers walking to his house and falling. He fell and Derek was yelling at him. Oh.

“You’ve gotten us all worried about you, you know?” Dr. Smith tells him while checking his pupils. Stiles doesn’t leave his gaze, maybe he can ask questions with his eyes only, but apparently he can’t. The doctor is now taking the sheets off from him to look at his chest and Stiles can’t help to look at it too. His eyes go wide with horror. From what he can see, his chest was opened and he can’t think of why. He turns his gaze to them, eyes hopeful to hear some answers. His father is looking at his chest, but quickly adverts his eyes with a hand covering his mouth. Melissa is still patting him, to keep him steady.

“It looks worse than it is, I can assure you that it was terrible when you got here.” Dr. Smith says while examining his chest. He takes his time, because obviously the only person trying to rush things here is Stiles.

“I think we can take that off, don’t you?” and Stiles wishes the doctor would stop smiling, because what’s there to smile? If he thinks this is keeping him calm, he’s wrong. He wants to move, to breathe and to yell.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you have to leave the room for now.” Stiles watches his father looking at Melissa, hoping that she can tell him to say, but she’s not the doctor. Melissa nods at him, reassuring him he can go and that she will look after Stiles. His father turns his gaze back at him. Stiles wishes he could reassure him too and tell him he’s going to be fine. The look on his dad’s face is killing him.

“I’ll be right outside, son. I’ll be-“, his father stops talking and almost chokes. He can’t bear to look at his son like this with his chest covered in bruises and stitches. Stiles knows this and guilt strikes him. His dad points outside the room with his fingers shaking as he walks, without taking his eyes off Stiles. As soon as the door closes, Melissa stops patting his head and straightens up on his left side turning her gaze to the doctor waiting for instructions. The doctor is writing something on his chart, while she’s getting some supplies ready.

“He’s been through a lot. Your father. He hasn’t left since he heard about you coming to the hospital.” Melissa starts what it looks like a report, because she knows that even in a hospital bed, Stiles is still worried about his father. “They’ve been here all this time.” And Stiles wants to ask who is they, but he can’t. Soon the doctor drops his chart and turns to him.

“This is not going to be pleasant, Stiles. And you have to promise me you won’t start talking as soon as we let it out.” At that, Melissa snorts, because she knows. Stiles not talking? He blinks twice and makes an attempt at nodding.

***

Not pleasant? This is awful! Stiles can’t stop himself from choking on his own breath and even after taking a sip at the glass of water Melissa brought him, he still feels the plastic tube on his throat. It takes him a few minutes and a lot of coughs before he feels himself breathing again. The doctor and Melissa keep telling him to breathe, to stay calm and to above all to not try to speak. Stiles is so scared that he obeys them and he focuses on Melissa’s eyes trying to breathe.

It takes him some time, but after a while he’s breathing and calm. His throat still hurts, a lot, but he tries to tell himself that it’s just like having a cold.

“Good. You’re doing good, Stiles.” Melissa smiles at him. “I’m going to clean up all of this and then I’ll call your father, is that ok? I’ll tell him you can’t talk right now, but seeing you like this is much less freighting now. He will be happy to see you.” She turns away to clean up the table where the tube and a few gazes are.

“Stiles, you probably have a lot of questions, right?” Dr. Smith sits on the chair next to him, but he’s quick enough to continue before Stiles can reply. He couldn’t do it to be honest; his throat still feels like spines are inside and for once, talking doesn’t cross his mind. “I don’t know what happened to you and I don’t think anyone knows for sure, but you got here with a severely internal injury on your chest. Blood was starting to fill your lungs, so to prevent you from drowning in your own blood, we had to operate. It was a very delicate operation and not an easy one. Everyone worked really hard to keep you alive. After we were done, no one was sure you would even survive the day and the only thing to do was to wait.” He stopped to study Stiles’ expression. “You have to know that we’re still waiting, Stiles. You’re still on observation. I can assure you that you almost died and I wouldn’t be lying, but seeing you like this is good. We hope that the worst is over now. I’m confident that you’ll be fine, but for now we must wait, ok?” As he gets up from the chair, he stops to smile at Stiles “You have to be strong for your father, right? I’m sure you’ll be out soon.” He then leaves and Stiles is left in his room with Melissa.

After she’s done, Melissa walks to his bed and grabs his hand. “I have to ask you something, Stiles. Your father really needs some rest, but he doesn’t want to leave. We need to make him leave though.” With that Stiles tries to talk, but is stopped by Melissa’s hand. “No, you don’t need and you shouldn’t talk. I’ll get him and tell him to get some rest, to go home. You just need to nod and reassure him that you too need some rest. What do you think?”

Of course Stiles nods. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, but it feels like a lot by how awful his father and Melissa look. He wants to ask for how long he was out, but not only should he not speak right now, he’s also scared to know the answer. Melissa gives him a quick smile while holding his hand with both of hers. She drops his hand carefully in the bed and tucks him in tight with the sheets. While she’s doing it, Melissa says one more thing:

“Maybe after your father leaves, he can leave too” and Stiles frowns at that. Who’s he? Scott? Melissa looks at him after she’s done stretching the sheets. “I’m sorry, I don’t really remember his name. A friend of yours and Scott. He’s here too, they all were. But I told them they should go home and rest, so they did. But your friend stayed behind. I think they’re taking turns” she laughs at that. “You have some really good friends there, Stiles.” She pats him on his leg and leaves, not closing the door behind her.

As Stiles looks at the light coming from the corridor, filling the room with a soft glow, he thinks about what he’s been told. He remembers Derek yelling at him, but after that it’s all blank. He now knows what the pain in his chest was. He stupidly thought that if he could get home and get some sleep, he would be fine. He would be dead by now that’s for sure. So he was brought here and operated, something that by the looks of it, took hours. Meanwhile his father was waiting and according to Melissa so were his friends. It’s a mixed feeling. He feels happy inside that he has people waiting for him, but he also feels awful for what they’ve been through because of him. Who are they, he doesn’t know. He knows about his father and Scott. Scott probably called Allison, so maybe she had been here too. She would have told Lydia, but Lydia wouldn’t come, right? Jackson would not come for sure. Derek was holding Stiles when he fell, so, logically, it was him that called the ambulance. But he would not be allowed to go on the ambulance, so he wouldn’t have been here either, right? He probably called Scott and that was it. Or maybe he didn’t and it was Melissa who warned Scott. She didn't know about their plan to get the alphas. Knowing about werewolves was bad enough, it wouldn't be fair to her to know the danger his son and his friends were diving into. His friends, he thought. Melissa mentioned there was a friend at the hospital right now, but if it wasn’t Scott, who was it?

***

Stiles is lost in his thoughts and only looks up from the light on the ground when a shadow enters the room. His father let out a sigh when he looked at Stiles. They shared a soft smile as he slowly sited next to him.

“Melissa told me you shouldn’t talk right now. You should rest, son. I’m-“

“No you won’t!” Melissa said as she entered the room with a blanket. As she landed it on Stiles’ bed, softly spreading it over his legs, she kept scolding at the Sheriff. “You too need some rest, go home. You saw him awake and Stiles is going to sleep now, I’ll make sure of it. You can come back in the morning, right Stiles?” He nodded, too fast for his own good, but he remembered Melissa’s words from before. He did not want this for his father. He looked so tired and pained. It was killing Stiles to look at him, to look at how worried his father was with him, again. He wouldn’t be able to sleep either with his father like that next to him.

Before leaving, his dad gave him a little hug. Usually they’re strong and not little at all, but Stiles figured out his father was afraid of hurting him. He knew he was weak right now, but he still couldn’t help to feel sad that his father would even think he could hurt him. If only, Stiles was the one hurting him, countless of times by now.

***

After his father stubbornly left the room with Melissa, Stiles was alone again, this time with the door closed. He looked around his room and thought about how much he hates hospitals. This is the first time he will sleep alone in a room like this. The last time was too long ago. Those times seemed so far away now and they were, but now they felt even more distant. He’s seventeen and he’s lived through things that no seventeen boy should. The sad thing, if you keep the werewolf stuff out, is that he’s still no ordinary boy. Although the werewolves shouldn’t be real and the fact that they keep dragging him to life threatening situations, he can’t help to feel useful to them. He is useful, right? Let’s pretend he’s not currently lying on a hospital bed right now. He’s proven that he can be useful, even though, right now, he doesn’t feel like that.

He thought about his father and what would be of him if he had lost him. The doctor was clear enough when he told him he almost died. He didn’t know how many and for how long, people had been waiting for him to wake up. Melissa said “they were all here” and he knew she didn’t mean just his father, Scott and Allison. She would have told him, but clearly there were more people than he imagined worried about him.

He let the tears fall down and cried. Now that no one was looking at him, he cried a lot. There was a rush of emotions flowing inside him. He was scared and sad. He felt more scared now than during the battle. He felt awful for not knowing who had been waiting for him to wake up. Panic stroke him as soon as his throat started hurting and he coughed. He tried to calm himself, because the last thing he wanted was to see more nurses and doctors around him. He started counting his breaths, slow and steady, trying to forget the uncomfortable feeling on his throat.

“I miss you...” he didn’t say it out loud, but he did moved his lips. The one he wished for did not need to hear him. If she was here, she would know. And soon enough he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

***

Derek was leaning against his chair when a familiar scent caught his attention. He turned his gaze to look across the wall, to see the Sheriff and Melissa talking. He tried to listen, but couldn't. He was too tired and his senses were failing on him, because, after all, he didn't even have the time to recover from the battle against the alpha pack.

Since he couldn't listen, he tried to read their movements. Melissa was sort of fighting with the Sheriff, who seemed too tired to fight back. Derek figured she was ordering him to go home once again. A lost cause, Derek thought. In the last hours he learned more about the Sheriff than in the last two years. From the times Stiles was afraid of being a disappointment to his father, Derek thought that the Sheriff might be a bit too hard on him, maybe to compensate his mother's presence. Now he knew that, as much as Stiles loved his father, the Sheriff loved him back. Both lived for each other and that was the reason Stiles was always scared of hurting his father with lies and more lies. The sentiment of guilt invaded Derek once again that night. Not only did Stiles keep risking his own life for the werewolves in town, he was also damaging his relationship with his father.

After what it looked like a vain attempt, Melissa seemed to have won the fight as the Sheriff reluctantly walked towards the hospital exit doors. As he was passing by, Derek couldn't help standing up. The movement took the Sheriff by surprise, like he forgot Derek was still here. The Sheriff looked around, but the waiting room was almost empty with just another young man sleeping on the back and a woman on her forties reading a magazine.

"You're still here." It wasn't a question, so Derek just nodded. If the Sheriff was going home, it was because he had some news about Stiles or no news at all. He wanted to ask, he really wanted to, but could he? Can you get your questions answered when the ones the Sheriff clearly has were not answered at all?

"Alone." That was a tone he couldn't really define. It seemed more like a surprise than an understatement. And of course it was surprise. If someone would be here alone waiting for Stiles, it would certainly be Scott. Instead, the Sheriff was now facing Derek. Someone that he barely knew; and what he did knew about him was nothing to be proud of. Derek needed to say something, to explain, but where to start? To tell the Sheriff why he was alone here would only lead to more questions. Questions that were not his to answer, that much he knew. Stiles would want to be the one to tell his father what happened. He would know what to do, because clearly Derek has no idea what to do now. He's not used to being afraid or holding back and usually he always knows what words to use, but not now. This is not a teenager, a hunter or a werewolf in front of him. This is a concerned parent, tired and most likely about to explode as soon as the bomb drops.

"How is Stiles?" Derek realized that, despite not having the right to ask, this would be the best approach to avoid explaining the Sheriff why he was here alone. The Sheriff took a sharp breath before replying.

"He woke up and didn't know where he was, as expected." He studied Derek's expression for a moment. "They took the tube off from him, so he should keep himself from talking. Let's see how that goes." Derek couldn't help to grin a little at that, but immediately froze when he reminded himself about who was standing in front of him. Unexpectedly, the Sheriff smiled back at Derek. A short shy smile, but still a smile.

"So you clearly do know my son."

"Yes."

"I see... I want to ask. I do. Part of me is afraid to know why you’re standing here alone and worried about the person who once made me arrest you. But I won't question that for now, because I also know you saved his life yesterday and that's all I can ask for now."

Derek curled his right hand into a fist and gave a little nod to the Sheriff. He didn't want to accept the praise, but this would be the best for now. Hopefully soon, Stiles would do the explanations and everything would go back to normal. There's no need to invade the relationship they have with each other.

The Sheriff gave one last resentful look at Derek before walking away. As he turned, Derek couldn't help himself and grabbed the Sheriff's wrist. He released it immediately when the Sheriff looked at him in disbelief.

"I'm sorry" and before the Sheriff could even ask anything, Derek continued. "Stiles should be the one to explain. It's- it's best to wait for him." They stood right there looking at each other for a few seconds. Seconds that seemed like so much more to Derek, because he knew Stiles' father deserved to know what happened to his son and yet he didn't ask anyone. Why, Derek couldn't understand. He, who yelled at the world and asked why was this happening so many times. This man in front of him knows deep inside, that he won't get the answers he needs from a bunch of teenagers. He knows where to get them and right now he can't.

When Derek thinks that they will just stay like this and that stopping the Sheriff was clearly a bad idea, the silence breaks.

"Should I be worried?"

"Not anymore."

"Well, I guess that will let me sleep for a few hours."

Now everything was clearer to Derek. A father, who sees his son like this, obviously can't stop thinking about who did it. Revenge. Derek knew that feeling very well and when nothing is left for you to hold on, you get almost obsessed with it. Doesn't matter where you have to go, you just can’t stop thinking about it. But this wasn't the Sheriff's case. He still had Stiles; he was still alive. While they were all waiting for news, he probably never stopped thinking about asking them. "Who did it? Where can I find them?" But he didn't. He didn't, because he knew he wouldn't stop. He would have left to seek them out. He would have left Stiles and for that, he didn't want to know. Derek is sure about this, because he would have done it too. He would have—

"You should do the same."

"What?"

"Go home. Rest. He's... Melissa said he would sleep now."

"I'll wait. I mean… I'm waiting for Scott." 

"Oh," a tired and understanding smile greeted Derek once again, making him finally feel a bit at ease. "It's good to know my son has such good friends around him." He waved a little, barely extending his hand and turned to leave.

As soon as the doors closed and Derek couldn't see his figure anymore, he sat again. He felt heavier than ever, like his legs couldn't carry him anymore. "Friends". The Sheriff would not call him that anymore once he knew. He would not wish someone like him to be a friend of his son. Someone who constantly puts the lives of these teenagers at risk. He thinks about Peter now, letting anger strike him. But he was right when he told him he failed to build his pack. Damaged kids, too young and inexperienced to know what they were getting into. Although, he did his best to give them a choice, his intentions were clear from the start and he failed. He hated to admit it, but Peter was right.

He needed a plan now. Since the alpha pack is no longer a threat, Scott will most likely leave him again. He was clear from the beginning; they're not pack, they just have a common enemy. So they gathered forces, but now the battle is over. It worked and they won. With Scott, his friends will also leave of course. Which means, he's left with Isaac, Boyd and Erica. He should focus on them, make them strong and be a better alpha. Someone who they seek for help and who doesn’t make them want to leave like before.

***

The idea of coming back to how things were makes him feel sad all of a sudden. He got used to it; to having so many people around. At first, things were a real nightmare. Scott and him were never on the same page, and then Stiles would not stop with the questions, always assuming Derek was hiding something. It got even worse when Scott brought Chris to help track the alphas. It was only after they rescued Erica and Boyd that everyone seemed to finally cooperate. The two werewolves told them about the atrocities they lived. Not just with the alphas, but also with Gerard. They told everyone about Stiles being with them at the basement, trying to help them escape. This took everyone by surprise, especially Derek. Stiles brushed it off, like it wasn’t a big deal. Though once Erica and Boyd started talking about Allison, things changed for the worse. She justified herself as being hurt by her mother’s death and blaming Derek for it. That’s when Scott told her how Derek saved him.

Trust didn’t come immediately after that day, but it would come later. They formed groups, each one with a mission. Most importantly, they would never, under any circumstances, be left alone. This helped creating new bonds and to gain each other’s trust. They had leaders of course, or they would never get anything done and decided on time. Derek, Chris and Scott would report to each other, putting on the table whatever information they had to share.

The idea of having groups was indeed a great one; he owed that to Stiles. Everything worked better this way and no one was hiding anything, because of how the groups were formed. Scott, Isaac, Erica and Lydia in one; Chris, Boyd, Jackson and Peter being the other one; and finally, Derek, Stiles and Allison. With the most obvious partners in crime separated from each other, everything was easier, especially when it came to trust.

Derek knew this was the main reason why they won the battle. Even against such a strong enemy and after Peter’s betrayal, they stood together and that’s why it worked. He was going to miss those nights when the groups would get together. When after everything was said and done, there was still time for a joke or even an hour of training. Mostly, he was going to miss his meetings with Stiles and Allison. Stiles, who he knew was smart and astute, but never imagined him to be a mastermind and brave. And sometimes he would forget Allison also carried the name Argent. To think that at first, he thought about being with them just because they were two of the most obvious liabilities. Allison, even with her bow skills, would always be on Scott and Chris’ minds distracting them. And of course Stiles, who wasn’t immune like Lydia and always seemed too fragile.

Fragile, annoying and an idiot. The three words Derek would have used to describe Stiles at that time. Soon, not only did he have more words, but even those changed drastically. The three of them were in charge of gathering the information from the other groups and come up with plans and theories. Derek was often speechless with Stiles’ talent. Not just that, but the boy cared. He cared not only for his friends, but also for everyone.

“No, if we go from here, we’ll put Erica in danger.”

“That’s a really bad idea. If Jackson and Boyd are waiting here, Peter and Chris need to move or they will most certainly be killed. Bam! Plan screwed, game over!”

He would point to the map with his long fingers like he was teaching Derek and Allison would momentarily laugh before having Derek’s eyes glaring at her. Some of the best memories from those days involve him laughing, like genuinely laughing. For example, when Stiles stomach started to rumble and he took a pack of Cheerios from his backpack; Allison commented on how disgusting it was to see him eat and soon enough she forbid him of bringing food again. Even Derek frowned at that, because that was a bit too extreme, he thought. But that was until she winked at him and his eyes widen in surprise. They both started laughing while Stiles was looking at them with his disgusting mouth opened.

Derek thought many times that maybe; just maybe, all of this could bring them closer. It sort of did, but not like how he wished. They would part ways. There’s no more common enemy or even a good reason to just stay. Actually, if he thinks about what happened with Stiles, there are plenty of reasons to leave. They always say they know the risks, that they know it’s dangerous. But that thought stops making sense when they see one of them almost dying. They’re just starting their lives; can it be expected of them to constantly risk their future? How about the Sheriff? That’s a bomb about to explode. Once he knows, every tie Stiles has with this life will be broken. Scott will remain around, but even that won’t be easy. Derek hopes; wishes that at least Scott remains a constant on Stiles’ life.

***

“Derek?”

He’s lost in his thoughts and memories, when Scott sits next to him.

“So? Any news?”

“He woke up.”

“He woke up?! Have you seen him? Were you-“

“No, I- no. The Sheriff told me.”

“Oh. How is he? Did he say anything? Did Stiles-”

“He’s ok. Scott, calm down. You’re making me dizzy.”

“Sorry. You do look awful. I need to check on my mom and ask how is Stiles. You should go home and sleep.” He turned his back even before Derek could reply.

“Scott, wait. We need to talk.”

“Can’t it wait? Seriously, dude, you need to go.”

“I’m fine.”

Defeated, Scott sat down again waiting for him to go on. Derek wanted to ask a lot of questions. Most of them about the future. Would Scott finally join his pack? He didn’t knew how to approach him about this and, with all honesty, now wasn’t a great time. But they would have to eventually talk about it. Right now, the only thing that Derek couldn’t avoid talking with Scott was about Stiles. They couldn’t let something like this happen again, not to Stiles and not to anyone else. As a father, Chris can control his daughter Allison. Lydia doesn’t need much of an incentive as long as Jackson isn’t in danger either. Now, Stiles was the problem. He would never do as asked and he would never remain still. The main proof? The events of that night.

***

After Derek took down Deucalion, he looked around to see Jackson and Erica struggling, but still standing while fighting Kali. He did not see the same thing when his glance turned to the fight with the twins. They were strong and very strategic. With Peter on the run and Isaac and Boyd on the ground, Scott was at a clear disadvantage. So Derek turned his back to Deucalion’s body and without hesitating, he ran for Scott. The fight kept going and together, they were able to throw one of the twins far away, remaining unconscious. Without his brother, Derek could smell Aiden’s fear and rage at the same time. He was strong, too strong even for Scott and Derek together. Bruised and tired, they missed the moment Stiles decided to get into battle.

When he turned to look, it was already late and Stiles was already running towards Deucalion, who was ready to get his claws on Derek. Stiles and his bat. He knew the day would come when Stiles would clearly do something stupid with it, like hitting an alpha. Derek stood there looking at Deucalion shaking his head and trying not to fall down again, until his eyes flashed red. It didn’t take long for Derek and Scott to react, but it was late enough for Stiles to be thrown against the nearest tree. The change of events seemed to wake up Boyd who was now stopping Aiden from getting back at Scott. Derek did not hesitate when he slashed Deucalion’s throat. His eyes settled on Stiles already being helped by Scott.

In the few seconds he stood there, many things came through his mind. The first thing he did was to take a proper look at Stiles. Nothing broken, no blood either. He wanted to be sure the boy was ok and alive. Then he wished he could yell at him. Every single synonym to idiot crossed his mind. A lot of questions too, like “Why are you even here?” “Why do you never listen?” “Why did you save me?” And a thank you too; for being here, for saving him, for being ok. He didn’t though, none of that. He went back to help Boyd and after Aiden was down, they united forces against Kali. For the seconds Derek was able to spare during both fights, his glance was always on Stiles.

So no, Derek could not wait. His insecurities about the pack would have to wait, but not this.

“This needs to stop.”

“Ok… what does?”

“This. Stiles getting hurt. He could have died, Scott. And next time could be Allison or Lydia.”

“There won’t be a next time, Derek. They’re gone now.”

Derek couldn’t help but snort. “Scott, do you really think that? Once the news is spread around, I’m sure we’ll have new visitors. And what about Gerard and Peter? Do you think they will never come back?”

“Well…”

“There will always be a next time, Scott.”

Scott sighed. “What do you propose then? Locking them all up?”

“That did cross my mind, yes.”

“You’re joking... You’re not joking! Oh my god, did you seriously thought about that?!”

“Well, what do you have in mind then? Ask them nicely to stay away?! I want to see you ask Stiles to do that.”

“You can’t just lock them up, Derek. I get your point, I do, but… Look, there are easier ways to—“

“Really? Like what? Tell me, Scott, how are you going to keep you girlfriend and friends away from danger next time?”

“I don’t know! It’s like it’s always there for them. Always too fucking dangerous and no place is safe!”

“So what? We just wait for it to happen?”

“No…” Derek could see Scott swallow back his words.

“We have to think of something. Some rules, something!”

“Rules? You want to set rules for Stiles, Allison and Lydia. Do you even understand what you’re saying?”

“I do. I’ve thought about this all night, Scott. I don’t know what we need to do, but something has to change. Stiles was lucky this time.” It hurt him to admit it, but it was true. Even after seeing him hanging by just a little thread of life, Derek knew it had been pure luck.

“I know… I’ll talk to Allison and Lydia, maybe they can… I don’t know, but after all of this they can understand. Maybe they can talk to Stiles too and maybe he will understand as well.”

“That’s a lot of maybes, Scott.”

“I know…”

They stood there for a while in silence. Scott leaned back on his chair, looking at the ceiling, while Derek was supporting himself with his elbows on his knees.

“We’ll talk about this later. Go look for your mother.”

“What about you? Derek, you need to rest and heal.”

“I already-“

“Derek, I’ll stay here. I promise to call you if anything happens.”

Derek pondered this for a while. He had been fighting sleep for hours now, but could he leave? Would it be ok? The last time he was about to leave, Stiles-

“Derek, go. Come on, we probably won’t be able to see him right away. You need to rest. Sleep. My mom's shift should be over by now, but I'll stay. And, yes, I will call you.”

“Ok.” They both got up at the same time, but before going Derek had one more request. “Scott, if he-“

“If he wakes up, I’ll call you. If something happens, I’ll call you. Derek, just go!”

The little smile Scott gave him was comforting. Like a friend and so much like a brother. He had always been on his own, especially if he wanted something. But right here at this moment, he wasn't. He trusted Scott would keep his word.

The feeling of trusting someone kept him at ease.

***

When Derek got to the train station, he didn't find anyone. It was better this way. Though, he texted Isaac before going to sleep, telling him about Stiles and that Scott was now at the hospital. He lay down and closed his eyes. Out of the hospital he would now be able to think more properly, but his body betrayed him and soon enough he fell asleep.

Though his mind did not let him sleep for more than five hours. With his eyes still closed, he tried to listen to his surroundings. He was still alone, which again made him feel relieved. He didn’t want to talk with his betas about what happened. He especially did not want them to see their alpha like this.

He sat on his cushion and looked around. Even though he’s been living there for a year, it can never feel like a home. A place to think and something familiar to hold his ground. Just like that, he stood up and got ready to leave.

When he got outside, the sun was settling in. What day was it? Wednesday? How many days have passed since the battle? He got inside his car and immediately opened the window before driving away. He didn't have a destination; he just wanted to feel the fresh air on his face. How many days? He knew the battle had been on Monday, but when he got to the hospital with Stiles he lost track of time. They spent all that night at the hospital and when Stiles got to his room they waited even more. One day and then Stiles woke up. So now, two days passed since the battle. Wednesday, he said to himself.

***

Of course this was where he was driving. Home. The mark of the alphas was still at the door, which made him want to take it down, but a house without a door at the front would only invite strangers. He didn't want that. Maybe he would paint it. Perhaps it would look weird; a fresh painted door contrasting with the burnt house. He stood there in front of the house, breathing it in and leaning his back on the car.

The contrast between something broken and something new. The contrast between him and Stiles. What could he do then? Paint the door, take it down or ignore it?

Chapter Text

***

The first time he opened his eyes again, it was barely for five minutes. He didn’t quite remember where he was until he got the smell of Hospital bleach. Stiles realized he was alone in his room, but couldn’t figure out what time it was, due to the lack of windows. There was still some movement going on in the corridor, so maybe it was still day. The constant beeping of the machines around the bed made Stiles fall asleep once again.

***

The second time, he felt someone touching him. As he opened his eyes, Stiles saw a nurse he didn’t know, adjusting his sheets. When she finally looked at him, he was greeted with a smile and a calming voice.

“Hello, Stiles. I’m Sarah and I’m here to check up on you. Are you comfortable? I guess you will be waking up from time to time. If you need anything just press this button.” She put the little device on his hand to make sure he got it. Stiles thinks he smiled back at her, but he's not sure. He felt himself drifting off back to sleep. “The doctor will probably lower your dosage in the morning, but until then you should enjoy these pain free moments and rest.”

Those were the last words he heard before slowly closing his eyes again.

***

Now, the third time he wakes up, Stiles thinks he’s dreaming. He immediately opens his eyes when a tray falls down to the ground, making too much noise. Right after, Stiles can listen to someone cursing and another one trying to shut him up? He looks down from the ceiling to see Scott getting up from the floor and Isaac near the door.

“We’re going to get caught if you don’t shut up, Scott!”

“But it fell on my foot!”

“Shh! I think someone’s coming.”

Stiles can’t help chuckling while the two werewolves immediately freeze, each one on either side of the door. It’s only when Isaac glances at the bed that he realizes Stiles is awake.

“Scott…” Isaac whispers while pushing Scott's sleeve.

“What?” Scott asks following Isaac's gaze and letting his eyes fall on Stiles. His eyes go wide and without hesitating he runs to Stiles side.

“Stiles! Oh my god, you’re awake! Hey, no talking! My mom told me you shouldn’t talk, so don’t.” He really wanted to, but having Scott here giving him his goofy smile was good enough for now.

“How are you feeling?” Isaac says while sitting on the other side. Stiles shrugs just a bit, enough for them to understand.

“Dude, we were so worried. It’s been like two days since you got here, so we had to see you.” Stiles’ eyes reacted with shock at those words. Two days?! How was that even possible? 

“Scott, we shouldn’t…” Isaac sounds a bit alarmed by Stiles’ reaction, because obviously this information was new to him.

“Sorry… I just─ I’m so happy to see you! You can’t imagine how it was, when Derek called me I─”

“Scott!” Isaac called him out in a whisper. Both of their heads turned to the door and a second later they looked back at each other. Isaac was getting up before Stiles could even look at him.

“We’ll be back, I promise,” Scott told him while slightly squeezing his shoulder. Stiles didn’t have the time or strength to reach Scott’s arm, because his friend was already at the door ready to flee. But before he left, Scott turned to face him with a stupid smile on his face and gave him a thumbs up. Isaac slowly opened the door and gestured for Scott to leave first. As Isaac was closing the door, he too gave him a smile.

The hospital seemed too quiet, so Stiles figured out it was probably still dawn. He was grateful for Scott’s ability to break the rules for him, because seeing his friend it felt like getting back to normal. Well, mostly. It was nice that Isaac had come too, though he was not really that surprised, since he and Scott were now close friends.

He remembered crying for hours when his father and Melissa left the room, because he was too scared. Though, this time he couldn’t help but to feel glad for seeing his two friends. A bit alarmed by Scott’s information, but it felt good to see them. He still had a lot of questions, and he knew Scott was the perfect person to give him a full report. So he would wait, there’s nothing much he can do for now.

Stiles gave one more look around his room. Hopefully he would get out of the intensive care soon. The room was too dark and too impersonal. As he settled his eyes on the ceiling, Stiles tried to recall the events from that night. He didn’t want to remember the fight with the alpha pack, but he had to know how much his mind was missing. Frustrated for not being able to keep track on certain parts of that night, Stiles fell asleep again.

***

Stiles sensed it was finally morning just by listening to the commotion outside his room. The door was open, so he could see the nurses walking around with trays and the intense smell of food invaded his room. He slowly tried to sit up by supporting himself on his elbows, and that’s when the nurse named Sarah entered his room, turning the lights on. As soon as Stiles’ eyes got used to the light, he could see she was carrying some gauzes, possibly to clean up his wounds. She greeted him with a sweet smile.

“Morning, Stiles”, she put the gauzes down next to him and turned to close the door. “Did you have a good night sleep?” Stiles nodded, without missing what Sarah was doing. “You need to lie down,” she said and he complied without a second thought. A bit frustrated at first, because of the effort it took for him to finally support himself. Though, most of all he wanted to see his wounds. Stiles knew they were far from being healed, but maybe by looking at them, he would be able to figure out how long it would take for it.

She took a small gauze and started cleaning his face from a few scratches. Stiles would tell her not to bother with it, if he could. But the fresh and stingy sensation was too good. He felt alive. After that, Sarah started to unbutton his hospital shirt. It was the second time Stiles had the chance to look at his bruised chest, now darker than before. Sarah couldn’t help to notice his glance and sharp breaths.

“It’s looking good, but we still need to clean this up. It will heal faster.”

He liked Sarah. She was nice and her smile was very comforting. She was probably in her thirties, brunette and long hair in a ponytail. Stiles knew he couldn’t always have Melissa nursing him, so he was glad to have someone like Sarah around.

He couldn’t help to bite his bottom lip, while Sarah cleaned up his chest. Stiles felt like stopping her multiple times. She was taking her time, which could be considered a good thing, except for the pain he was feeling. He closed his eyes hard, trying to think of something else. Stiles barely noticed when Sarah stopped, until he felt her spread some kind of ointment on his chest. That felt like heaven.

When she was done, Sarah went to wash her hands before coming back to button his shirt. As she reached the last one, Stiles grabbed her sleeve and, for what it seemed like forever, he finally spoke.

“Water… please?”

She didn’t reprehend him, which he was sort of grateful. His throat still hurt of course, but if people were expecting him to keep silent forever… they were wrong. Stiles knew he shouldn’t talk much for now, but he felt confident that a few words now and then wouldn’t cause much trouble.

“Of course,” Sarah said while tugging the sheets around his neck. “Let me just get you a straw; it will be easier for you.”

Well, that was true. Although he felt less sleepy, he knew his strength was still at minimum. Must have lost a lot of blood, he thought. Not just that, but whatever they were giving him mixed with the serum was very strong.

Sarah came back with a bottle of water and a yellow straw. Stiles choked a bit while drinking it, suited by the hands of Sarah at the base of his neck. But having water touching his lips felt like a blessing and after getting used to the pain of the water falling down his throat, he drank a bit more.

“You should sleep now. Dr. Smith will be here to check up on you around 10am. If you need anything, just use that button, ok? I’ll be around if you need me.”

Sleep? Even more?! He grunted, too low for Sarah to hear before she left the room. It was probably really early, but not so much for the hospital. He looked outside his room to find the corridors crowded with nurses and patients in their gowns. This was going to be a long morning.

He was glad his father hadn’t spent the night with him at the hospital, but Stiles couldn’t help wondering when he would come to visit him. His father or someone else, because, right now, he didn’t want to be left alone.

Stupidly enough, he looked down to his feet and tried to move them. Of course he was able to move his toes, but Stiles didn’t stop there. He slowly tried to move his entire body. It was silly, he knew it was, but it was like doing a checkup on himself. He felt fine, despite his throat, which was also kind of insane and more proof of how drugged he was.

Looking at the ceiling now, he thought about what he would tell everyone, mostly to his dad. Then he realized that maybe Scott and the others already said something, but what? Their stories had to be the same! He was worried, because after all, his father was not only the Sheriff, but also a Stilinski. He would not let this pass. Stiles needed to talk to Scott as soon as possible. Their versions needed to match. Stiles was safe for now, because he shouldn’t talk, but soon his dad and the doctors would start asking questions. Stiles knew he wouldn’t be able to get away by telling them he fell somewhere. Not when he almost died of an internal bleeding.

***

Just like Sarah mentioned, hours later Dr. Smith enters his room followed by his dad, who can’t help but to give him a strong hug this time.

“How are you feeling today, son?” His father still looks very tired, but he is glad to see him out of his uniform. Stiles knows how selfish it is of him to actually feel happy that his dad won’t be working today, but he can’t help it.

He smiles at him and nods. He gently ruffles Stiles’ hair. “Good, I’m glad,” he quickly grabs the chair next to the bed and sits. “Scott is outside too; maybe he will be able to visit you soon.”

“Yes, but first let’s see how you’re doing,” Dr. Smith interrupts. He grabs the pen from his pocket, though Stiles quickly realizes it’s not really a pen when the doctor turns it on to look at his eyes.  “Ok, let’s take a look at your throat.”

Dr. Smith grabs a small spatula, “open your mouth and hold your tongue down.” He keeps humming while examining Stiles’ throat with the lighting pen, which makes him a little impatient. The fact that his father can’t sit still on his chair is not helping much either.

“It’s a bit swollen, but that’s normal… considering. I’ll give you some meds for it,” the doctor says while writing something on Stiles’ chart. “Now about the medicine you’ll be taking…” He takes a quick look at Stiles’ IV before going back to write again. “I’ll be gradually lowering your dosage day by day, but be sure to tell us if you feel any pain. I don’t encourage you to talk for a few days, though the Sheriff already warned me about how difficult that will be...” This makes Stiles smirk a bit at his dad, who rolls his eyes. His smile quickly fades when he turns to Dr. Smith, who’s looking at him through his glasses. He doesn’t look very pleased.

“Stiles, at least try not to talk too much,” his father warns him.

“Yes, that would be good,” and Stiles sighs in defeat. “I think today you can try to eat some soup at dinner, but let’s not add anything more. If you feel any nausea, please call one of the nurses. Though, I think tomorrow your stomach will kindly accept some food.” On other circumstances, he would actually be thankful for it, but Stiles is not really hungry and hospital food is never part of his menu.

“Let’s take a look at your chest.” Dr. Smith lifts up the bed sheets and starts to unbutton his shirt. Stiles thinks he was never undressed this many times before, too bad it’s for the worst reasons ever. The doctor, unlike Sarah, barely touches him, “it’s looking very good.” Stiles glances down at his chest again and wonders how that is looking good. It’s still full of bruises, the stitches are ugly and very uncomfortable to look at, so how is this good? He doesn’t ask though.

Dr. Smith gets his stethoscope out of his neck and asks Stiles to breathe. A good two minutes pass before the doctor says anything.

“Did you have some trouble breathing during the night?” Stiles frowns, but quickly shakes his head.

“Is there something wrong?” his dad immediately asks while getting up from the chair.

“I want to run a few tests, but I wouldn’t worry. Stiles spent the last hours without any problems, I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

“But something is wrong,” it’s not really a question. His father just knows. Stiles thinks people can’t help forgetting his dad is the Sheriff when he’s not wearing his uniform. Can’t keep anything from Sheriff Stilinski.

“Well, yes. I don’t think his left ventricle is working properly, which can cause an edema and also be a risk to his heart. We’ll do some tests today, just to make sure.”

“And if you’re not right?” It’s not that Stiles doesn’t appreciate his father’s questions, since he can’t really ask them, but a bit of optimism could do him some good.

“It’s probably just some repercussions from his internal bleeding. Let’s not forget how serious it was. We can’t jump to conclusions until we make the tests.” Dr. Smith firmly says and quickly changes the subject.

“About visits,” and that gets Stiles’ full attention. “If the tests confirm there’s nothing wrong, you’ll be leaving this room after lunch. Your condition is fragile, but not life threatening anymore.”

“So you mean he’s not in danger anymore? I mean if─,” his father asks.

“Yes, well, I still want to run those tests, but the night was calm for Stiles,” the doctor turns to look at him with a soft smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing to be worried about.”

“You hear that, kiddo? It’s almost over.” Stiles grabs his father’s hand and squeezes it. It’s almost over. “How many days will he have to stay in the hospital?”

“Oh, it’s still too early to say, but I expect him to be out of here after ten days. One week might be a bit too soon, but we’ll see how he recovers.”

Well, that’s a bummer. Ten days?! What is he going to do in a hospital for ten days? As if his father could read his mind, he says: “Don’t start, Stiles. You scared the crap out of me!”

It’s like taking a punch deep down to his stomach. A rush of guilt that doesn’t let him breathe for a few moments. It’s not just his fault, but that’s how it feels inside. For lying to his father, for worrying him, for making him be stuck inside these walls once again… It’s not fair for him, so Stiles doesn’t dare to protest to any of the doctor’s instructions. Dr. Smith tells him he will be able to get two visits at a time when he leaves the intensive care and that makes him happy enough.

***

After lunch, Melissa shows up followed by Sarah pulling a wheel chair. They take him to run the tests Dr. Smith asked. His dad wants to go with him, but Melissa orders him to wait. With Scott. Stiles never really expected his friend to still be here. Was he here all night? Was someone else here?

The tests take longer than he thought. Dr. Smith is always with him, and later for a very specific test he meets another one of the doctors who operated him. Dr. Williams seems to be a very strict woman. During the entire exam, Stiles doesn’t see her smile once. It makes him quite uncomfortable, but she sounds competent enough while talking with Dr. Smith.

Their suspicions are right, thankfully. Stiles’ heart is fine, but he will need to take his medication to get rid off that fluid still in his lungs. He will probably cough a lot more during the treatment, but that’s one of the side effects. Before leaving the exam room, Dr. Smith warns him once more to refrain himself from talking during these first days.

Sarah helps him to get back to the wheel chair, something that is still too weird for him. He wants to try and walk, but Sarah doesn’t let him. His legs are constantly trembling while he sits in the chair, which was proof enough for Stiles to see how weak he is.

“That’s not─ my room is─,” he looked up at Sarah, who was giggling. As he was getting ready to ask where they were going, his cough hits him once again in full strength.

“No talking, Stiles!”

He was still coughing, not so loud now, as they entered a room where his father, Scott and Melissa were. His face instantly lightened up with joy!

“Is this─,” he barely asked before coughing once again. “Shit!”

“Stiles!” Melissa runs to him with a paper tissue. “Are we going to have to put you to sleep again?” Stiles looks up at her, eyes wide and begging. “Good, so no talking. And yes, this is your new room.”

Windows! That’s the first thing he notices, but he feels like kissing Melissa when he sees the little TV up on the wall.

“How are you feeling, buddy?” Scott approaches him. Stiles is fast to give him a thumbs up back for last night, making his best friend smirk.

“Is Dr. Smith coming? How were the tests?” His father asks Sarah, who’s still behind him and the wheel chair.

“Everything went fine, Mr. Stilinski. I can take you to his office, if you want to.”

“Yes, please. Will you stay with Stiles, Scott?”

“Of course!” Stiles and Scott share a look that speaks volumes. Will they finally be left alone?

“Ok, you two,” Melissa turns to them “please behave. Sarah is going to take your father to Dr. Smith and I’m going to see if I can get you more pillows and blankets. Scott, don’t you dare to let him talk!”

“Mom!” Scott drops his arms to the sides and sighs. Stiles can’t help laughing at his friend. “It’s not funny, I would never do anything to make you worse…”

“I know,” it’s barely a whisper, because he doesn’t really need to talk out loud with a werewolf, but he still gets a violent glare from Scott. Stiles raises both his hands up in the hair, defeated.

“So… you’re ok now, right?” Scott asks, unsure, but Stiles assures him with a fast nod and a soft smile. To reinforce it, he gives him the thumbs up again. Thankfully, that makes Scott laugh.

“Thank god, we were all so worried. I didn’t see you, but Derek told me about the blood and─“

“Derek?!”

“Stiles…” Scott gives him one of those glares again. But Stiles would not fail to communicate during this talk. No way. He needed to know every single detail of what happened that night. More importantly what he was going to tell his father, because that was doomed to happen soon.

They didn’t have much time, so Stiles signed for Scott to keep going.

“Well, Derek called me. He was─ well, he was screaming at me. To be honest, at first I thought I did something wrong, but he kept saying your name and that there was blood. But then there was no blood, and he was hysterical.”

“Hysterical?”

“Yes! Stiles, shut up! Let me finish. The whole phone call didn’t make sense. He said you were breathing, but you were unconscious and there was blood coming out of your mouth. Which freaked me out, because he had just told me there was no blood! When I asked, he snapped.”

Stiles looked at Scott in surprise. Well, he’s not really surprised; he’s more in shock than anything else.

“Yeah, well, he was freaking out and not making sense, which also made me freak out. He told me he was driving you to the hospital and that’s when I thought it would be best to call my mom. When I got here, you were already inside. I kept asking Derek what happened, but he looked like…” Scott stops for a while, not just to let out a breath he was holding, but also to take a proper look at Stiles. His hand flies to his neck as he glances to the floor. “It was really scary to see him like that. I thought─ for a second─“

Stiles grabs his left hand and doesn’t let go until Scott looks at him again. “Hey, I’m here.”

“Don’t ever do that again. I mean it, Stiles. You could have died.”

He won’t point out to Scott that he did it to save Derek’s life, to save their lives. Even if it meant that… Stiles won’t say it anyway, at least not now, so he just nods at his best friend.

“You really have no idea how worried we were. Everyone was here, you know? At first, it was just Derek and I, then your father, of course. I had to call him. Then Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Danny and Isaac; they all showed up.”

“What did you tell my father?” Stiles’ voice was so low, that for moment he thought even Scott wasn’t able to hear it.

“Nothing. He didn’t ask, so we said nothing. What are we going to tell him? You should tell him, Stiles. The truth.”

“No!” Stiles almost gasps and he struggles in vain to keep himself from coughing. Scott waits for him to calm down.

“You have to. I’ll help you and we can ask my mom too. Maybe even Derek─“ Scott stops when he sees Stiles roll his eyes to the side. “Ok, maybe not Derek, but we can help you. You almost died, he needs to know.”

Stiles is ready to reply, when Scott gets a text.

“Allison is here. Do you want to see her?”

Stiles takes a proper look at himself. The hospital gown is not very nice, but the blanket Sarah put on his legs covers enough. It’s a bit awkward to have his friends see him like this, but he’s decent. Anyway, they shared too much during this last year to be shy around each other.

***

Soon enough, Allison gets to his room with a huge smile on her face.

“Stiles! It’s so good to see you!”

“He can’t talk,” Scott points out and Stiles would kick him if he had enough strength in his legs.

“He can’t?” Allison asks with a frown.

“I-“

“No, you can’t! He was intubated for hours, his throat is swollen so he needs to refrain himself from talking. As you can see, he can’t.”

Allison looks serious for a second, but then she quickly bursts out laughing. Scott can’t help himself either and Stiles follows him. But they quickly stop, once his laughs turn into coughs. He can’t help it, even when he tries so hard not to. Allison gets him a glass of water, which manages to ease up the attack.

They talk for a few more minutes. Stiles almost chokes again when Allison tells him about Derek. Derek, who had been here since that night and was the first one to take their shifts. Stiles wants to tell them there was no need for shifts, but that’s when his father gets back with Melissa. Allison and Scott quickly have to say goodbye to him and soon after Melissa tells his father to go too.

It’s dinnertime and Stiles wants to whine, because it’s still day outside. But then he remembers how different the hospital schedules can be.

Before leaving, his father helps Melissa to get him back to his bed. He begs his father to get some rest. “Rest,” he says and it’s only a word, but that doesn’t stop his dad and Melissa from giving him the looks. Stiles is used to being told to shut up, but not like this. It’s killing him.

A few minutes after his father left, Melissa gets back with soup. Spinach cream soup, not his favorite, but Melissa won’t leave until he eats at least three big spoons. He manages five, because it feels good to have something warm on his throat, but he can’t take more than that. Before leaving, Melissa turns on the TV and tells him to stay sitting for a little while, so that the soup can settle on his stomach.

The room is quite small, but Stiles doesn’t complain. Not only does he have a window and a TV, he’s also alone. Perks of being the Sheriff's son and a close friend to one of the nurses, he thinks. There are two chairs by the window and one more by his left side, next to a small brown couch. He hopes to have these seats occupied tomorrow. It’s a warm feeling to remember about the names Scott told him. They were all here, and now he finally knows who.

Derek. Scott said he was out of his mind. He remembers Derek yelling his name, how one of his hands was cupping his jaw and the other one was everywhere. But he never thought─ Derek saved him plenty of times by now, but it always seemed like an obligation. Like Stiles was only on his way; a nuisance he couldn’t get rid of. To make Scott believe Stiles had died, Derek must have looked horrified. He doesn’t recall seeing Derek like that, ever. Stiles wishes he could have seen it. It feels horrible to even wish for something like that, but this was Derek. The man who was always there to catch him, but Stiles never knew he actually… cared.

Chapter Text

***

Scott and I went to Stiles’ room. He was awake and he looked fine. Better than we expected. Thought you would like to know.

He’s been looking at Isaac’s message for what it feels like more than an hour. Derek doesn’t quite know how to reply. He wants to call instead, but he knows he would start asking questions that neither Isaac nor Scott can answer.

Ok. Thanks.

He replies and puts his phone back on his pocket. He’s sitting on the porch of the Hale house. The sky is too clear and the stars seem to be mocking him. Making fun of his tired face, his thoughts and desires. Derek lies down on his back to look at them properly. He remembers watching a cartoon movie where it was said that the stars were people from the past. So maybe that’s why he feels like they’re laughing at him now. Laura would tease him, but then she would look at him and ask a billion questions.

“Why are you here?”

“Why aren’t you with him?”

“Why are you always protecting him?”

“Why is he so special?”

Or maybe these are Derek's questions to himself. Though Laura would definitely still tease him about it. Josh would tell her to shut up and leave him alone. Breanne would tell him a story to make him feel better. Billy wouldn’t say a word, but he would bring a soccer ball with his hopeful eyes. His father would throw him a small smile before getting back to his book. But his mother would stop whatever she was doing to brush his hair gently, without a word.

He doesn’t quite remember their voices; only Laura. Even hers is starting to fade away. Their faces are blurred in his mind, so this is easier. Even if it’s just based on a stupid cartoon he saw years ago, tonight he will look at the sky and imagine that the most brilliant stars are his family. Not just looking over him, but laughing. He doesn’t need their protection, not really. But he needs their smiles… desperately. He needs to forget the nightmares and the horrors of these last few nights. He also needs guidance and stars are supposed to guide you. But he’s no fool. Derek knows what he needs to do; he’s just… scared. Afraid to face his own feelings and horrified of the moment he will need to put them into words.

Let them laugh.

Without wanting to, he falls asleep right there on the porch.

***

It’s day when he wakes up with a message from Scott. He’s still at the hospital, without Isaac it seems. His heart skips a beat when he reads that Stiles needs to go through some tests, because there’s still some fluid in his lungs. Derek changes his mind to run there when he reads the last part of the message. Scott is with the Sheriff at the hospital. It’s not that he’s afraid of the Sheriff, but Derek being constantly around his son, it will raise a lot of questions. Questions he’s not prepared to face or doesn’t want to.

But he really wants to see Stiles, though it’s not likely that’s going to happen today. Everyone will be there, but only a few will be able to actually see him. He’s not on the same level as the Sheriff and Scott. Those are the permanent rocks to Stiles’ life. Not him. And he’s not ready to face that yet. At most, they’ve become friends during the last year. It’s not enough to demand anything.

But that’s what Derek wishes. To see Stiles. The last image he has of him is too awful and Derek needs to erase it from his mind. But he will stay in the shadows and wait. He’ll wait. He’s used to waiting.

***

Derek leaves the car near the house and decides to walk around the woods. The thoughts about the Sheriff led him to the place where the fight with the alphas took place. It was still early in the afternoon, so the blood was clearly visible here and there. But not even that is enough to define that night. He brushes off some of the leaves, trying to cover up the blood drops. It’s not likely that the police will come here, but just in case, it’s better be safe than sorry.

Derek stops by the tree which Stiles was thrown at. The clear image of him on the ground with Scott next to him flashes through his mind. Little did they know that the boy was bleeding on the inside. It’s not your fault, a voice too close to Stiles’ tells him. But it is, he fights back.

Derek is lost in his memories, touching every inch of that tree, when he hears a twig break. He feels threatened all of a sudden. Whoever is coming towards him is not far. He can’t run.

Derek slowly gets up and turns around. Relief strikes him when the human figure emerges from the trees.

“Chris.”

“Derek,” Chris says turning his gaze around. “Are you here alone?”

“Yes, you?” Derek asks. He doesn’t ignore the gun Chris is holding, but he doesn’t feel alarmed by it. Surprisingly, he should. That’s what his instincts tell him. Be aware of the hunter. But this hunter risked his life to help them. A fight he joined with his daughter, but he didn’t have to.  And he did it anyway.

“Same,” Chris replies and adds “Allison told me about Stiles. How is he?”

“Still at the hospital,” Derek tells him and grabs his phone to check if there are any new messages. He knows he didn’t get any, but he can’t help to look just to be sure. It’s stupid. “We’ll have to wait and see.” It comes with an unwanted sigh, too close from desperation. Chris nods like he understands. He probably does, Derek thinks. “I see you took care of the bodies.”

“A necessary need,” Chris stares at him for a while. “Not all bodies, though.”

“Peter. No signs of him, I assume?”

“His trail ends at the end of the reserve. I have a group of hunters searching the area, but no luck yet.” Derek can’t help snorting when Chris finishes. His uncle is too meticulous to get caught by hunters.

“I have to admit you were right and I should give you some credit for it.” When Chris gives him a confused look, Derek continues. “Having a second plan in mind saved us all.”

“To plan ahead is what we do,” Chris claims.

“And trust our instincts is what we do.” A feeling of anger burns him inside and almost beyond his control. “I shouldn’t have trusted him,” Derek growls. It almost feels like a confession. Well, it is a confession, but he doesn’t make it sound like one, because this is Chris in front of him. Derek doesn’t even try to hide his fury. Peter broke that wall of trust again; his only family betrayed him once more. Anger is something that comes out quickly when he stops to think about it.

“If we find him, I’ll inform you,” Chris urges.

“You won’t,” Derek argues, but soon he realizes of what Chris is implying. “Thank you,” he hurries to say. Any other hunter would kill his uncle right on the spot, but unexpectedly Chris understands. Derek wants to be the one to close that chapter. He should have known there was no return. Derek was warned; by Deaton, by Scott, by Stiles. He ignored them all and he forgot about Laura; he’ll be sure not to the next time.

“Do you think he will come back here?” Chris asks with a frown.

“Not if he wants to live.”

“Point taken. Where could he go then?”

He doesn’t know the answer to that. Peter never mentioned anyone outside of Beacon Hills and why would he? If all this time, his plan was to kill him and to become the alpha again, he would never risk it. He sold all of them to the alpha pack without a second thought, so it’s not like Peter would feel the urge of sharing anything about his personal life.

By Derek’s silence, Chris figured him out. “I see,” he says. “As a lone wolf, his chances of survival are minimal. Maybe we’ll finally have some peace around here.”

“Yeah,” Derek agrees, but he doesn’t believe it. He wants some peace and quiet; he needs it. But that’s the thing. That’s when everything collapses again. Since his sister came back to Beacon Hills, it’s one thing after another. Like this place is cursed for them, for him. Maybe he should leave. It’s not like he never thought about it, but then there’s Erica, Boyd and Isaac. His pack needs their alpha and they wouldn’t leave their home and friends. Derek doesn’t want it either. Even when he knows that Scott, Stiles, Lydia and Jackson, are not his pack, they’re still his… what? Friends? He often lets that word slip in his thoughts, but it’s not right. It’s more than a friendship. It feels like more than that. Much more.

“I have to go,” Derek hurries to say. The sun is setting and he’s been around the woods long enough. He still didn’t have any new messages, but he needs to check for himself how things are. How Stiles is.

“Of course,” Chris takes a few steps towards him and puts a hand on his shoulder, not too firm, but not that loose either. “Be sure to tell the kid to stay away from danger the next time.” There’s a fond smile on Chris’ face when Derek turns his head to look at him. Derek nods and Chris walks away in the opposite direction he was coming before bumping into him.

No one ever questioned the truces between Derek and the Argents. Not like they did with Peter. Actually, now that Derek thinks about it, Peter was always the one making sure he couldn’t trust them. They burned our family alive. They tried to kill you. As if his uncle knew, he would end with “They tortured Stiles”. Derek never understood why just those words would make his skin crawl. Peter would always mention Stiles to get Derek’s attention.  His uncle realized that Derek’s mourning for his family would never leave him; he spent years living with it. So he would mention Stiles. Stiles and his time spent with the hunters. Stiles and his bruised face.

No, he will never forget. The manipulative Kate that planned the fire and had him chained for hours. His betas and Stiles trapped in a basement by Gerard. Victoria’s twisted plan to kill Scott. Allison’s arrows and Chris’ bullets. He will never forget. This family destroyed his and that’s something he will never get back. But he doesn’t need much to remind himself of what Allison and Chris gave him in return during these past few months. Scott might not be part of his pack, but Derek heard the Argents tell him that he should be, countless of times. Allison might have charged Boyd and Erica with her arrows, but it was also her who saved Erica from Kali’s surprise attack. Derek and Chris never had a reason to trust each other, but it was thanks to Chris’ planning that Peter’s scheme was uncovered in time. It was also thanks to one of Chris’ bullets that Isaac was probably still alive.

They both have people they want to protect. Being allies is far from being friends. A truce is something that Derek can live with, despite everything. But he will not forget and he doesn’t need Peter to remind him of that. Peter is the last person he needs.

***

When Derek gets to his car in front of the burned house, Isaac sends him another text.

Stiles left the intensive care and can also get visits. The tests came out good. Scott, Allison and his father are with him now. Are you coming?

Derek feels again the urge to call him, instead of sending a new text. He reads the message over and over again. The words are still the same, there’s no special meaning behind them, but he wants to know more. Before backing away, Derek dials Isaac’s number. It doesn’t take long for him to pick up.

“Hey, thought you might call.”

“Hey,” Derek pauses for a moment before asking. “Is he really ok?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know any details. Scott told me his mother was getting Stiles’ new room ready and that the tests cleared him of any… permanent danger.”

There’s silence between them. At some point, Derek nodded, forgetting that Isaac couldn’t see him or perhaps he was just assuring himself. He’s ok.

“Are you coming to the hospital tonight? It’s ok if-“

“I’m coming.”

“Ok, good. Do you want me to stay?”

“No, go home, rest.” Derek can hear Isaac chuckling. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. Did you?” Isaac asks.

“Did I what?”

“Rest?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Because you looked-“

“Yes, Isaac, I’m sure.”

“Ok,” Derek can listen to Isaac switching his phone to the other ear. “Scott and Allison are coming out. Are you sure you don’t want us to wait for you?”

“There’s no need. I’m not far.”

“Oh, ok. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yes, see you tomorrow,” he’s about to hung up, but then… “Isaac?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Wha─ for what, Derek?!” Isaac sounds genuinely surprised on the other side.

“For being there-,” he breaks to let a heavy breathe out. “For being there for Stiles.”

“Sure, I mean… Stiles is a friend. He’s…”

There’s a long pause on the other side. Derek would think that the call was over if it wasn’t for the small whispers on the other side. Then he remembers that Scott and Allison are probably next to Isaac now. Derek is about to say goodbye when-

“He’s pack. Stiles is pack, right Derek?”

It’s not just the words that surprise Derek, it’s the voice on the other side. To hear Scott say it feels… authentic. A rush of emotions flow throw him making it harder to breathe, to think, to talk-

“Derek?” Scott’s voice is unsure, like he said something wrong. Derek realizes that maybe Scott was scared about it too. Implying that Stiles is pack, also applies to him; his best friend. Scott, the boy he’s been trying to protect and guide since day one. The werewolf he most wanted to be part of his pack; Derek’s pack.

“I’m here.”

“Oh…”

“And yes, he’s pack. Stiles is pack.” It feels right to say it. This belief was stuck inside him for a long time now. But to put it into words makes it real. Acceptance that this is the right thing to do and say. They should all be together.

He doesn’t need to be in front of Scott to sense his smile on the other side.

“You know, after everything, I should be the one to thank you.”

“What?" Derek promptly asks. "Scott, no, there’s no-“ 

“We should talk about this later, though.” Scott interrupts.

Derek ponders it for a second, but he agrees. “Yes, later.”

“We’ll be here in the morning. If you need anything or- just call, ok?”

“Of course.”

***

As he leaves the forest behind, nostalgia strikes him. How Scott was abruptly turned that night and how he’s always been like a little imprecation around Derek; how he grew up as a man and a wolf. Derek knows Scott will never be one of his betas. He will always be something more; a leader, an alpha. But a pack that howls together stays together.

Instinctively they act like pack, but saying it, reveals a new world to their human side. Pack means family; friends who stay together. At the beginning, when it was mostly about power, Derek couldn’t help feeling threatened by Scott’s leadership. But now that they fought side by side, the feeling of pack and family was amplified. He’s been feeling like this for months. We’re brothers now, Derek remembers as the woods disappear from his rearview.

***

Before leaving the car, Derek rests his hands on the steering wheel to momentarily look at the hospital. Stiles is somewhere in this building and he’s fine. He’s fine, he needs to repeat it constantly.

When he’s about to enter the hospital, he crosses paths with Melissa. They greet each other awkwardly. It’s been a long time since Scott took Derek to his house. Melissa wanted to know more. She wanted to be part of Scott’s new life; understandable, but still weird when Derek explained things like wolfsbane, hunters, alphas… The fear she felt was not for her, every emotion dripping was because of Scott. Though, the arrival of Stiles that afternoon broke Melissa’s wall in a few minutes. Nobody could remain serious, when someone took a dog bowl from his backpack with “Scott” written on it. At first he was perplexed by it, but even Derek couldn’t help laughing. After that day, he never saw Melissa again. It was bad enough that the alphas knew about Scott’s home. If they saw Derek or the others hanging around his place, it would certainly put Melissa in danger.

“You know…”

“Derek,” he says with a shy smile.

“Right, sorry. It’s hard to keep track of all the names of the… Scott’s friends.” Melissa nervously tells him. “So, Derek, you know you can’t really see Stiles now, right?”

“I know,” Derek assures her.

She nods at him while chewing on her bottom lip.

“Well, wouldn’t you prefer to visit him tomorrow? I’m sure he would like to see you.”

“I—“ Stiles would like to see him? Derek knows that Melissa is just being polite, but the question still lingers on his mind.

“Don’t tell me, you’re all still doing the shifts thing?” Melissa interrupts him with a heavy sigh. “What? You don’t think we’re capable of doing our jobs?”

“No, that’s not—“ Derek is interrupted once again, but this time with Melissa’s laugh.

“I’m joking! I know you mean well. Scott was here all night yesterday. He told me he could sometimes find Stiles’ heartbeat when the hospital was more silent. Crazy, if you ask me. My own son is able to listen to the heartbeat of his best friend.” She pauses and fixes her eyes on Derek’s. “And I understand. I would definitely do the same.”

Melissa shares a soft knowingly smile with him, like she just took off his mask. She’s right; Derek wants to be here to track Stiles’ heartbeat. It’s not enough to know that he’s alive. He needs to feel it. Derek can’t really define why exactly, but he doesn’t need a reason when he remembers how he could barely listen Stiles’ heart that night. He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine.

He doesn’t enter the hospital until he sees Melissa driving away. Anyone else would think he’s just being nice, but instinctively he’s just making sure she goes home safe. That’s what they’ve been doing for months; making sure they could protect the people who are important for each other’s lives. Despite knowing that, for now, Beacon Hills is safe again, Derek still feels like the world around him is under threat. It still is, because not everything is as it should be.

***

It’s now dawn and Derek is positively sure he already read every single magazine and flyer inside the hospital. He can’t smell Stiles, but he can track his heartbeat when someone opens the door down the corridor. The night is peaceful, which is expected from a place like Beacon Hills.

Around 3AM, Derek notices that there are less and less people around. Two nurses are at the reception desk, and as one of them leaves to go outside to light up a cigarette, the other one stays typing something on the computer. Derek doesn’t stop to think twice. He slowly gets up from the chair and walks towards the vending machine. When he’s sure that the nurse at the desk doesn’t even bother to look at him, Derek escapes to the hospital ward.

He’s now facing a long dark corridor that leads to many rooms. Derek tries not to hurry his footsteps, so he can focus on that heartbeat he’s looking for. He wishes he could smell him, but the hospital bleach is too intense. After passing by a lot of rooms, Derek abruptly stops. That distinctive thump is now stronger than ever. He’s here. He’s fine.

Even before reaching for the knob, Derek knows Stiles is sleeping. He knows it, but his heart doesn’t. He takes a long breath before slowly opening the door.

The room is darker than the corridor, so he quickly shuts the door behind him without making any noise. It’s too dark, but there he is. Thanks to his werewolf vision, Derek has a clear picture of Stiles. He’s lying on his back with his head tilted to the left. He doesn’t look comfortable, but who would be? The bed is not the best and with the stitches on his chest, Derek is sure it must be painful for him to sleep in any other position. But he’s here and he’s fine. Stiles is alive.

Derek doesn’t realize he’s moving forward, until his foot touches the chair next to Stiles’ bed and a screeching sound fills the room. He freezes, but nothing happens. Stiles is still sleeping and no one else is coming. He lets out a breath and his eyes go wide at what his senses pick up. Stiles’ smell.  It’s not as intense, but Derek can still pick up the spicy and sweet smell. It’s always like this with Stiles; the contrasts are the best to define him. He smells like earth, but also like the spring rain.

The sudden urge of touching him is too strong. Derek considers it for what seems like a long time, while his eyes browse Stiles’ shape. His legs crossed in a way the he can’t really define and his arm barely touching his chest. The other arm is on his left side and on top of the sheets. Derek moves around the bed to Stiles’ left side.

An overwhelming feeling stops his heart for a second, when he catches sight of Stiles’ face. He was not prepared to see his face. It’s like meeting Stiles all over again. It’s not bruised or anything, Stiles is just… sleeping. The long eyelashes and the partly open mouth, make him look like someone else. Yet, it’s still Stiles. It’s a new side of him that Derek was never able to see before. Stiles looks peaceful, which is probably the main reason why he never saw him like this. How could he? Since the first day they met, there’s always some kind of danger ready to take care of their lives. It’s not right, he thinks. Derek wishes he could keep Stiles like this, where no one or anything could harm him again.

He slowly raises his hand above Stiles’ face, but doesn’t touch. Derek just stays like that for a while, feeling the heat coming out from him. The energy that still prevails on him; that liveliness that Derek always hated and now he misses it. Badly.

It takes longer than he thought to move his hand away. Derek knows he needs to leave, before someone comes to look for him or worse… before Stiles wakes up. How contradictory can someone’s mind be? He wants Stiles to wake up, but part of him doesn’t. How can such a fragile human being make him feel so small and so scared? Derek wouldn’t know what to say to him. He breathes him one last time, before carefully touching his arm and putting him under the sheets. It’s a simple gesture, but he does it so slowly that it makes Derek feel like he shouldn’t be doing it. It feels intimate, it’s too much and it burns as he doesn’t take his eyes off from Stiles’. His arm is so light and delicate, that Derek could break it in a second if he wanted to.  Stiles is breakable. This whole time he should have known.

Derek reaches for the door and before opening it, he can’t help himself to take one more look, to breathe him in and to repeat to himself again: Stiles is fine.

As Derek leaves, he feels Stiles moving and the bed creaking, but he can’t bring himself to look back again and shuts the door behind him.

***

In the morning, Derek is outside the hospital sitting on the stairs when the Sheriff, Scott and Melissa arrive together. Melissa goes inside with the Sheriff, who is wearing his uniform. Derek realizes that he’s probably just passing by. It’s hard to pretend he didn’t notice the Sheriff’s surprised look when he spotted Derek. Scott stops to sit next to him. It doesn’t feel weird that the only exchange between them is a nod and a small smile.  The sense of belonging is something that Derek couldn’t afford before while sitting next to Scott, but he doesn't fight it now. He welcomes the sun on his face, but it’s the foreign feeling coming from the inside that keeps him warm in this cold morning.

Scott gets up the second the Sheriff rushes through the door. Derek doesn’t hesitate to do the same.

“How is he?” Scott asks.

“Complaining about his tasteless breakfast and the lack of cable,” the Sheriff teases.

“Typical Stiles,” Scott’s face brightens with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah. Now that his throat seems to be a bit better, how the hell am I going to shut him up?”

Scott snorts and Derek tries not to do the same.

“I have to go to work. Are you two staying?” The Sheriff asks.

“Yeah,” Scott replies and Derek just nods. He needs to stay away from the Sheriff’s radar as much as possible, at least until Stiles is out of the hospital.

The Sheriff’s expression is fond and kind, especially as how Scott is still smiling at him. Derek never really thought about this until now. The way they look at each other is very touching; like father and son. It makes sense, he thinks. How could he have never realized that, for Scott, the Sheriff is probably the closest thing he has to a father? Just like Scott and Stiles are no ordinary friends. They’re very much like brothers.

***

They stay at the hospital all morning, but Scott momentarily leaves to pick up some food for them and his mother. Right after, everyone comes to the hospital. Just before visiting hours, Melissa comes to meet them reminding that only two people at a time can enter the hospital ward. It would be expected that everyone would want to go, but judging from their faces, that’s not quite true. Stiles is fine, of that much they’re sure, mostly by how Scott seems so cheerful. It’s the fear of facing the friend that they almost lost. Derek understands, because he’s feeling the same way. And this time, Stiles won’t be sleeping.

Naturally, Scott and Allison go inside first. They promise to not take long as they were both with Stiles yesterday. You would think that they’re a couple just by looking at them. They should be together, Derek knows and feels how much they love each other. But it’s complicated. Everything is always too complicated. Like when Scott comes back without Allison and tells Derek to go next. It’s complicated to say no; it’s very complicated, because he wants to go but his legs don’t make a move. Gladly, Lydia steps forward and “offers” to go next. Despite Scott’s confused look, Derek is able to breathe again.

As the sound from Lydia’s heels fade to the hospital ward, Derek tries to regain his control. He needs to be able to do this. And there’s absolutely no reason for the panic that is flowing through him. He’s here. He’s fine. He’s alive. No reason at all.

Allison comes back shortly after. There’s no escape now. 

Chapter Text

***

“I remember,” he replied.

After Allison left his room, Lydia appeared by the door. Stiles’ face instantly brightened, but something was off. Lydia had that look on her face. He knew that look too well. Her expression was sad and unsure, things that were not common with Lydia Martin. His smile dropped as she sat down next to him. Lydia’s shy smile faded too once she looked at Stiles’ hospital bracelet. He greeted her and chuckled nervously, but nothing changed on Lydia. When she reached for his hand, it was unexpected. Stiles looked down at their hands and was about to ask her what was going on, when he met her eyes. Lydia’s beautiful and green eyes shouldn’t look so distressing and tearful. Stiles’ breath was caught in chest, because he couldn’t stand to see her like this. He didn't understand what was happening, but─

“Do you remember,” she started, “what you told me when I was ready to do something foolish?” Lydia paused and closed her eyes for a brief second. “I didn’t care about anything or anyone, if it meant I could save Jackson. I was so mad at you, so mad that you didn’t understand.” She stopped again, this time to prevent the tears from falling, but she didn't wait for Stiles to reply either. “I was really angry,” she told him with a nervous laugh, “even after you came to help me. But when we were all out there waiting for some news, I was furious at myself. I’m pretty sure every werewolf in that waiting room could feel it.”

He flinched and jerked his head towards her. Stiles wanted to reply and to take his hand away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Tears that didn’t dare to fall off marked Lydia’s eyes. He could feel the strong emotions coming from her as she gripped his hand tighter, like she was afraid that he was going to run away.

“You were right,” she continued with a steady voice, but her eyes showed something else, a deeper meaning to her words. “When you told me that death doesn’t happen to you, but it happens to those around you.” Lydia’s voice cracked when she dropped her gaze back at their hands. “You didn’t understand my pain, but I couldn’t feel yours either. I mean─ I did, at the time, but I couldn’t really… accept what you were saying.” She said and stayed quiet for moment. When did her grip soften? Stiles hadn’t realized. “That’s what made me so angry while you were lying in a hospital bed.” There was a long pause while the unfamiliar silence filled the room. “Do you remember that?” Lydia asked, gauging for Stiles’ reaction.

This is when he finally spoke, like he was finally allowed to interrupt her speech. Stiles does remember it, like it was yesterday. Since Scott was bitten, that was the day where Stiles figured out how involved he was in all of this. It wasn’t just about Scott anymore. Stiles wanted to protect everyone, but he couldn’t. Gerard made him feel useless, like what he really is among werewolves: a human. A helpless and fragile human. But thanks to Lydia and his father, that night he also realized how they expect him to stand back and fight. Doesn’t matter if it’s during a lacrosse game or while fighting a supernatural creature. He can’t give up, because that would be a disappointment for them.

“That night,” Lydia says shyly, “I was listening to my heart only. I had to follow it, Stiles.”

“I know,” he replies.

“I know you know,” she urges to say. “That’s why I want to tell you I’m sorry.”

“Sor─ what? Why?” Stiles asks, honestly surprised. He chokes in the middle of it, but tries to hold it. Why is Lydia so upset about something that happened months ago? If only, he should be the one to apologize for yelling at her.

Lydia hesitates and for a moment Stiles regrets questioning it. “Sorry for staying angry at you for so long. You were just doing the same thing I did and I have no right to judge you.”

“Yeah, I─ wait. What did you just say?” Stiles’ eyes go wide and Lydia just glares at him, bringing up the girl he’s known for years back to the surface.

“Look, Stiles, you’re a fool. A brave one, but still a fool. I’m not going to yell at you like you did with me,” she pauses to enforce her gaze on him. Stiles can’t help to swallow, because if eyes could kill… “I’m here to remind you about what you said. Or does that only apply to others and not you?”

It’s like taking a punch on his face. “Lydia, I understand what you’re saying, but this is different. I was just trying to prevent Derek from─ Derek?” Stiles feels his heart pounding harder against his chest as he spots Derek by the door. He heard them, that is his first thought. The second one is that Derek can hear the way his heart is beating faster. Stiles struggles to keep his breathing under control, but his heart is not calming down.

“Good, now you can yell at him yourself,” Lydia counters as she turns to look at Derek. Stiles unconsciously straightens himself when he notices Lydia getting up from the chair. Please stay, he begs.

“I’m not going to yell at him and you don’t have to leave,” Derek replies promptly.

Stiles tries to say something, but the words don’t come out. Derek looks tired, like he just came back from a fight, but without the visible blood on his shirt. It breaks him apart to see Derek like this and Stiles wants to ask so many things. He can’t, because once he starts he won’t be able to stop and he will regret it later. Do not ask anything, Stiles. Derek is not even looking at him in the eyes, which is confusing. Why is he even here if he can’t face him properly? If he’s not here to yell at him, is he here to thank him? Yeah, right. Not a chance. But then, Scott told him about Derek. How he saved him and how he stood at the hospital for hours… Derek is a puzzle that Stiles was never able to solve. It’s like having a little bug crawling under his skin that finds his way to his lungs and heart making it impossible to breathe and think. There are pieces missing and he was never able to find them during these years. Despite all his research, the biggest mystery is right in front of him.

“I already said everything I wanted to anyway,” Lydia flatly says. “Besides, as an alpha I expect you to have a stronger influence on him.”

“What? He’s not─“ my alpha, he thinks, but doesn’t dare to finish the sentence. How many times did he saw Scott blurting it to Derek? He lost count, but he did not miss how Derek’s eyes looked when Scott said it. It was heartbreaking and even though he was always on Scott’s side, there were times that he felt like they should just give in. Not for their sake or because it was the best thing to do, but to give Derek that bit of happiness. He would not show it, but it was clear for Stiles that having Scott on his pack was what the alpha wanted the most. Besides, yes, Derek is not his alpha, but if he says that, it will come out wrong. Derek is more of a… What? “I don’t need anyone to yell at me,” it’s what he ends up saying as he quickly crosses his arms.

“Maybe you’re right. When you put yourself constantly in danger, maybe yelling is not enough.” Lydia is still hurt and heated. Stiles doesn’t quite understand if all that is aimed at him or herself. But he knows how stubborn she is and unless he agrees with her, she will never drop the subject. It’s not like he does it on purpose, and maybe if everyone else wasn’t about to die all the time, he wouldn’t try to save their asses. That’s what he wants to say, but that would only anger Lydia even more. He’s already dealing with the sourwolf puzzle in the room, he can’t deal with Lydia Martin’s fury.

“Fine,” Stiles sighs.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” and turns away passing by Derek.

“Wait!” he calls out and a cough follows. He takes a quick glance at Derek, who seems to be looking at him, but he really isn’t. Stiles wants to ask Lydia to stay, mostly to avoid the awkward atmosphere that will prevail in the room once she leaves. It’s not that he doesn’t want to stay alone with Derek, well, they’ve spent a lot of time by themselves, but there’s always something to discuss or plan. Now it’s different. Stiles is in the hospital and alive thanks to Derek.

Lydia is staring at him, waiting and frowning. Despite his insecurities, there’s something more important that he needs to tell her: “Thank you.”

She puts her hand on her hip and with a smug smile on her face, she says: “Anytime,” and leaves.

Stiles stares at the door for what it seems like an eternity, completely avoiding Derek’s presence. From the corner of his eye, Stiles can see him reach for the chair where Lydia was sitting. Derek seems very tense too, which gives him some courage to─

“So, you can talk now?” Derek asks.

“I─ what?”

“Scott and your father said you couldn’t talk, because of,” he gestures for his throat, “the tube.”

“Oh. Wait, you spoke with my father?” His eyes go wide with surprise and Derek actually mimics his expression, like he just spilled the words without noticing.

“He’s been here since… Yes, I did.”

“That is all levels of awkward. Oh my God, please tell me he didn’t threaten you or anything.”

“What?” Derek goes still in the chair. “Why would he do that?”

“Good question. It’s just… didn’t he ask what you were doing here?”

“He will.” Derek replies and casts a quick glance at Stiles.

“Oh.” Stiles nods. He knows what Derek is implying, but he chooses not to talk about it.

The silence stretches for a couple of minutes. Stiles was expecting someone else to come after Lydia, instead it's still just him and Derek, with the background noise from the hospital being the only constant thing in the room. He’s fidgeting with his fingers, playing with the edges of the sheets, not really sure if Derek can see it, but he can’t stay still. For the first time since he woke up, he can’t stay still. Stiles squeezes one of his own fingers with all his strength, trying to cause himself a little pain to remain calm. He learned that with all the time he’s been spending with werewolves; it turns out it also works with humans. Your brain picks up that pain and stops focusing on other things. If Derek can sense him doing it, he doesn’t say anything, which Stiles is grateful for.

“Thank you,” Stiles finally lets it out. His voice comes out lower than he expects, but at least it sounds firm. Even with his heart racing faster, Derek will know he’s telling the truth.

He takes a glance at Derek and is surprised with what he finds. Stiles’ eyes go wide and he stops squeezing his finger; like his whole body just froze. The expression on Derek is like Stiles just throw him off a cliff. He looks too unsure and vulnerable. It’s not an expression you often see on him. Actually, Stiles himself only saw it twice. This is when Derek wants to say something, but at the end he never does.

The first time was at the school, after spending nearly two hours trapped inside the pool. They never talked about it since. The second time, Stiles wishes he could forget about, because every time he doesn’t, he is also reminded of how much of a coward he really is.

***

It was after a meeting and everyone was there. They all left except for Scott and Isaac, who were talking about something with Derek. Stiles was sending a text to his father and didn’t even notice when he was the only one left. He sighed as he packed some stuff into his backpack. Stiles cursed when he saw the pile of papers he brought from his research mixed with others inside one of the trails. As he was flinging over the papers and sorting them out, he stumbled into something he probably shouldn’t have. It was a small letter and from what he could read, it had nothing to do with the alphas.

He jumped when he saw Derek behind him. That’s when he realized he was putting his nose in Derek’s personal stuff. Stiles was about to apologize, but his eyes betrayed him. He took one more glance at the letter on his hands and that’s when he read the signature name: Laura Hale. He quickly met Derek’s eyes again, ready to be yelled at, but there it was. The same defenseless look on his face. Stiles swallowed, put the letter back where it was and grabbed the rest of the papers. He murmured something about Scott waiting for him and left. For days, Stiles tried to keep his distance from Derek, but eventually everything got back to normal. Just like that night at the pool, they never talked about it.

So, Stiles does not expect Derek to be the first one to break the silence. He also does not expect to see Derek snort at him. It stings a bit beneath his heart.

“Lydia is right,” Derek says followed by a sigh. Stiles is mad, because he just thanked Derek. And Derek, well, he practically laughed. At his face. And now he says Lydia is right. What the hell?

“Excuse me?” It’s bitter and Stiles knows it. He doesn’t care.

Derek sighs again, this time more intensively. “You don’t listen, you just… never listen.”

When their eyes meet, Stiles is taken aback. For someone who was sarcastically laughing at him seconds ago, Derek is the one who’s angry now. Angry with him. Unlike the constipated look, this one he has seen many times, but not directly at him. Derek would be annoyed and tired at him, but never angry. Why is Derek angry with him?

“This,” Derek spits the words like it pains him to do so, “cannot happen again.”

“What─“

“No, listen to me, Stiles. This. Cannot. Happen. Again. I swear that if you ever even think about disobeying orders again, I will─“

“What? You will what? Oh, wait, I know the answer for that, Derek. You will die. If I hadn’t been there, you would have died.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Please, mercy was never on Deucalion’s vocabulary and you were his target. You would have died.” Stiles slowly repeats, like the words will finally enter Derek’s brain this time. It’s like talking to a mule every single time. A rush of emotions flows through Stiles and there’s no way of controlling them now. “I saved your ass! For the other times you never ever said thank you, can you at least consider doing it now?!”

“You─“ Derek looks at him speechless, his mouth still open and ready to spill something. He doesn’t say anything. Stiles is sure that his heartbeat must be hurting Derek’s ears by now, because even he can hear it. “I can’t do this,” it’s what comes from Derek. And just like that, he gets up from the chair, making his way out.

“What?! You can’t say “thank you Stiles for saving my life again?” The emphasis on the last word was harsh and he knows it, because Stiles never saved him expecting something in return. Never.

Derek quickly turns around and moves towards him. In that same second, Stiles has his wrists wrapped with Derek’s hands. They stay like that for a minute. His heart most likely stopped and the only thing he can hear now is Derek’s breath. Stiles can feel his anger, but not quite. Derek is not hurting him, his hands are just holding him, there’s no strength there. Which makes Stiles furious, because Derek is probably holding himself back. Stiles tries to get himself free by kicking with his legs under the sheets. When he doesn’t even touch Derek, he tries to move his arms.

He fails, of course. And Derek, as if to remind him that he’s not stronger than a werewolf, lifts his wrists and pulls them down again. This time his grip tightens. It doesn’t hurt him physically, but it smashes his pride.

“We thought you were going to die.” Derek sounds desperate. “I saw your father barely holding on. I saw Scott crying, because he thought you wouldn’t make it. Melissa took more than one shift so she could keep an eye on you. I’ve never seen Lydia like that since Jackson practically died. You have a bunch of people outside that want to see you, but they’re scared. You know why, Stiles?”

“Let me go,” he orders him, because he can’t do this. Derek has no idea about how many times Stiles has blamed himself for─

“Do you, Stiles?” Derek shakes him and his words come out as a yell.

“Let me go!” Stiles shouts back, trying to release himself from Derek’s grip. He can hear the voices coming from outside the room.

“Because you almost died,” Derek snaps. Only then he lets him go and stands up. “Don’t forget that.”

Stiles hides his face to the right, but he knows Derek’s eyes are still on him. People are whispering and he tries to ignore it, but he can’t. As if Derek could read his mind, he walks away and closes the door behind him. Stiles lets out a breath he was holding.

“I’m always scared you’re all going to die on me,” he says out loud. Stiles doesn’t know if Derek heard him. A part of him hopes he did, but the angry frustrated part doesn’t really care.

He looks at his wrists. He can still feel the ghost of Derek’s fingers burning his skin.

Chapter Text

***

As Derek closes Stiles’ door, he starts walking towards the hospital exit in a hurry. He does his best to ignore the looks on him. Clearly everyone could hear the commotion between him and Stiles. As he passes by the waiting room, Scott comes at him yelling and asking what happened. He ignores him too, because he needs to leave that hospital right now. Scott grabs his arm and tries to make him turn around. It takes him a lot of willpower to not knock him out in front of everyone. Derek takes Scott’s shoulder and pushes him away, harder than he wanted to. Isaac is fast to catch him before he falls on the ground.

“Dude, wh— what the hell is wrong with you?!” Scott shouts, but Derek is already on his way out.

He doesn’t have time to get to his car, before Erica tackles him down, pinning him hard against the ground. Derek is stunned for a few seconds. How did he not sense her coming at him? When Erica realizes that he’s getting back to himself, she tightens her grip and pins him even harder. This is a first for them. Erica was never able to get him to the ground. Boyd could and Isaac got him once, but not Erica. And any other time she would look at him with a smug smile, but not now. She’s determined to not let him go. She has the same expression he had when he was holding Stiles to that bed. Blame and remorse strike him and Derek gives up. His head falls back to the floor and his claws fade away. He doesn’t try to budge anymore.

“Derek…” Erica calls him, but Derek doesn’t look at her. He’s having a fight inside his brain about how peaceful the sky looks beyond them when everything else is so screwed up. Derek grins, mostly at himself. Quickly, the little grin turns into a loud laugh.

“Derek? What the hell…” He can hear Erica just fine, but he can’t stop laughing. How is it possible that when the world goes back to normal he manages to ruin everything again? When Derek got into that room, his mind was settled to just be with Stiles; to enjoy his company, to talk with him about anything and everything. But when the boy thanked him for—

Erica suddenly punches him. Instinctively, his eyes go red and he grabs her wrists with his claws. She doesn’t even flinch.

“That’s more likely. You were acting like a maniac!” Erica scolds him.

“Get off of me,” he demands.

“Not having fun?” Her tone is sarcastic, but not playful and Derek can’t help but frown, because Erica obviously has a death wish. “I heard, you know? We all did! What the hell were you thinking, Derek?” Her grip on him tightens as she spits the words. “You’re tired, I get it, but that scene was stupid and so not like the Derek Hale I know.”

“He was not list—“

“He never does!” She yells and Derek feels her words piercing right through his heart. There’s a moment of silence where they just look at each other, until Erica rolls her eyes and releases him. Derek doesn’t move as she gets up from the ground. He keeps looking at her, astonished. She places herself next to his thighs and stares back at him.

“But, sometimes, he actually does listen. To you.” She reaches her hand down to help pull him up. Derek doesn’t actually need the help, but he doesn’t hesitate to accept the offer. As he stands up, Erica smirks.

“Let’s go out for a run. You and I.” Erica doesn’t give him time to reply, just turns around and starts walking to the passenger side of the Camaro. She catches his gaze and throws him back his keys.

“When did you—“, she winks at him and pops into the car. Derek lets out a painful sigh. He lost control and that was the reason why his reflexes were down to a minimum. Maybe Erica was right when she said he was tired. Not physically. The last few days, Derek couldn’t stop remembering each second of the night Stiles almost died. It was slowly draining him.

***

They leave the Camaro parked near the Hale house and run around the preserve. Erica went first, but shortly Derek catches up with her. At some point he actually lost himself, letting the smell of the forest invade him. It felt amazing to just be captured by all its beauty. He was outrunning himself and his mind. Above everything, his heart, which was probably still lying around that hospital room. Shattered.

“Derek! Slow down, I can’t—“ Erica shouted, but soon stopped to get some air in her lungs. Despite being at a fair distance from her, Derek was able to hear her. For once, the forest was silent and peaceful. He turned around to go and meet her.

***

They were now standing on a cliff, which gave them a perfect view of Beacon Hills. The night was settling in and it was dazzling to see the lights popping out here and there. They stood there catching up with their breaths, until Erica promptly broke the silence.

“I had a brother,” Derek turns to look at her, surprised. “No one knows, I think.” Erica drops her hands on her knees, but never stops looking at the horizon.

Derek is not sure of what to do or say. He thought he knew everything about his betas, but clearly he doesn’t. They always manage to surprise him with their choices. He has no idea as for the reason of why Erica is telling him this now, but there must be one.

“What happened?” He asks before the silence stretches for too long.

“I was twelve and he was seventeen. The perfect son,” she says with a shy smile. “Their favorite of course. No seizures or embarrassing stories to talk about at family dinners. It was the exact opposite: good grades, awesome at sports and always surrounded by friends. Everyone was devastated when he decided to study abroad.” Erica picks up a twig from the ground and starts fidgeting with it. “He was also the perfect brother and probably my only friend. Brothers are meant to make fun of you, but he never did.” Her voice almost breaks and Derek wants to reach her, but he backs away curling his fingers into a loose fist.

Erica smiles at him sideways. “Stiles reminds me of him.” At the mention of Stiles, Derek’s heart literally skips a beat. He knows Erica picked that up, but she restrains herself from saying anything. “Joseph, my brother, had a heart too big for himself. That was his only flaw. He would get himself in the middle of a fight just to protect his friends. Reason why he got himself hospitalized twice. The only time he got a detention was when he went to pick me up at school and saw a kid making fun of me.”

“Why does he remind you of Stiles?” Derek can’t help to interrupt, but as soon as he does it, he can’t help feeling embarrassed.

“Brilliant minds think and act alike, I guess? Joseph was brave, but stupid. You would think that everything he did was for him and for him only, but if you looked closely you would see his true colors. He would joke about it, brush it off, but at the end, he was constantly caring about the others.” Erica stops to look at him in the eyes. “Like Stiles.”

Derek nods, slowly. Not because he was missing the connection, but his mind was rewinding every memory of Stiles jumping into the most dangerous situations to save others. He keeps looking at Erica, still on her spot and embracing the cold night air.

“He died saving a friend from drowning,” she says finally. “Apparently they were all drunk and decided to go for a swim in a river close to the dorms. Not a good idea. His friend lived, but Joseph died.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispers. He was never good with these kinds of situations. Besides, he hasn’t seen that expression on Erica since he gave her the bite. She’s too vulnerable and human like this, which makes him feel uneasy. He took that life from her, without measuring the consequences. How many times had Erica asked herself if her brother approved of her decision? A decision that Derek practically made for her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she tells him.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m broken,” Erica stretches her legs and lies back to lean on her elbows. “I’m not.” She’s now looking at the starry sky and Derek can see her watery eyes. He regrets not being able to comfort her, when she’s been trying to distract him from what happened. While Erica is silent, Derek turns his gaze back to the town. A place he would have never come back to if it weren’t for Laura. Fate is a weird thing.  He can’t help to feel powerless against it.

“Your turn,” Erica urges to say while straightening up. Derek looks at her confused and surprised by the sudden words. She gestures for him to move on.

“What?” Derek asks which makes Erica roll her eyes at him.

“I shared something personal, now it’s your turn.”

“No,” he snorts.

“Come on, Derek. That’s not fair.”

“I must have missed the memo that said we were bonding today,” he says and throws a rock down a cliff. Erica scoffs.

“Fine. See if I share anything with you ever again.” Before she gets up, Derek grabs her wrist.

“Wait,” he pauses to look at her in the eyes. “I- what do you want me to say?” Derek asks frustrated and immediately lets her go.

“We can start by Stiles?” Erica replies as she sits and relaxes again.

“No, I’m not talking about him.” Derek argues, not pleased at how this conversation is going. He throws another rock, with more strength now. He thought that Erica’s point was to distract him. This is the opposite of distraction.

“Why not?”

“Because.”

For a moment, they stay quiet, but Derek can feel Erica’s gaze on him. It’s unsettling, especially because she can feel his distress.

“Ok,” Derek thinks she will definitely leave this time, though after a few seconds she adds. “I think you like him and—“

“What?” Derek promptly questions, his voice caught in his throat as Erica turns his head at him and huffs a small laugh. Her knowing eyes drop to his chest. Only then Derek realizes that his heartbeat is faster than usual. Much faster.

“As I was saying,” she continues, clearly amused by Derek’s expression. “I understand why you yelled at him at the hospital.”

“Please don’t,” just the memory of it makes him wince in pain.

“Derek, you’re scared.” She looks at him, pity in her eyes. Derek hates that look. It’s always present when people talk with him. “This is Stiles we’re talking about. He’ll forgive you for your… impulses.”

“Impulses.” He repeats.

“Yes! You are constantly saving each other by impulse.”

“Impulse?”

“What do you call it then?” Erica asks in frustration. Derek doesn’t reply. He has tried many times to define what keeps bringing him and Stiles together, but he never—

“See? You li—“

“Stop! I know what I feel,” Derek confesses, which makes Erica almost squeal. Derek closes his eyes, hard, but he can still feel Erica’s smile blooming in her face.

“Oh,” she exclaims. It’s barely a whisper, but of course Derek didn’t miss it. She knows.

***

Derek doesn’t drop by the hospital the next day. He’s probably not welcome by anyone, but especially by Stiles. He feels bad as it is, so Derek doesn’t need to have that kind of confrontation when Stiles is still lying in a hospital bed. It will only make him feel more miserable.

He spends the day at the train depot, reorganizing the books he brought from the house. He purposely leaves the notes and papers that Stiles got him for last. Derek is not surprised when neither Isaac, Boyd nor even Erica show up. Only a few things can actually surprise him and one of them is walking right towards him.

“Scott.” Derek says only to acknowledge his presence. He doesn’t even lift his head from the book he’s not reading.

“I’m not going to go soft on you.” Derek has to admit that despite all the time they spent together, some things will never change. That look will always be “Scott is mad at you”. He’s literally boiling from every corner of his face, like a little pan. It’s kind of amusing to see him like that on some occasions; clearly this is not one of those. Derek knows he screwed up big time. He also knows that it’s the end of the afternoon and Scott’s scent is mixed up with hospital bleach. This means he was with Stiles, of course he was. And he’s mad at Derek. He knows too well what this means.

“Did you come here to hit me? Go ahead, try.” Derek tempts him and drops the book to the side. He doesn’t take a step forward, but Scott does. Several steps, actually. It’s so easy to read him. Scott really wants to hit Derek, but something is restraining him. He stops right in front of Derek. It’s uncomfortable, because he’s looking right into his eyes, searching. That’s the most admirable thing that Derek finds on Scott. He never diverts his eyes to look away. For Derek that’s not always that easy, he does it to appear strong and fearless. But not Scott, he’s just genuinely honest. If this was a competition, Derek would lose and he doesn’t want to go there, so he frowns. That seems to wake up Scott from his private search of Derek’s eyes.

“What were you thinking yesterday? What? Just because he saved your ass, it gives you the right to speak your mind?!” Scott shouts back at him. Derek takes a deep breath. Sometimes it’s like he’s talking to a bunch of five year old kids.

“Look, it’s exactly the fact that your friend jumped to save me that I tried to make him realize how dangerously stupid that was.” He reinforces too much on your friend, me and stupid. It’s sarcastic and childish, but hopefully Scott will understand.

Obviously, he doesn’t.

“Your friend?! Unbelievable. You’re a jerk, Derek.” Scott raises his index finger and presses it against Derek’s chest. “My friend almost died trying to save you! Do you remember that?”

“Of course I do!”

“Oh, yeah? Did you forgot about the fact that he’s still lying in that hospital and he doesn’t need to know that all of his friends and his only family were worried sick about him?!”

Derek scoffs. “Lydia started it.”

“Lydia did not tell him about his father or me! What right do you have to do that?” None, Derek thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud. Scott is right and through his yells and shouts, it’s like bringing him a message from Stiles. You have no right.

“Scott, I—“

“No, you don’t get to talk or explain or whatever! I’m sick of that! I spent the day trying to cheer him up. Do you know how crucial it is that a patient is emotionally stabilized for his fast recovery? Do you know how much Stiles wants to get out of that hospital? It’s not because he’s missing his room, his computer or PlayStation. He hates hospitals. Do you know why, Derek?”

“I think I have an idea,” Derek mumbles and looks away from Scott.

“Yeah, you are full of ideas.”

Derek can feel the rancor and disgust coming from Scott’s words. Harsh, but close to the truth and piercing him right through his heart. The silence that follows between them is unfamiliar and unnerving.  The water drops falling from the lamps that illuminate the space sound like a clock ticking; a countdown to Derek’s punishment.

“I’m sorry,” Derek’s voice cracks, but he doesn’t turn away. Instead, he meets Scott’s brown eyes. Scott remains quiet and perfectly still, but his expression shows that something is going through his mind. He seems to be scanning Derek, searching for the truth. Derek doesn’t shift, but doesn’t say anything more either. He truly is sorry, Scott will know he’s being honest, but that’s not it. Scott is pondering something.

Derek watches him shove his right hand into his pocket. He grabs something, but before pulling his hand away again, Scott takes one more look at Derek. His expression is solemn for a few seconds, until he closes his eyes and breathes out.

“Here,” Scott extends his arm to give Derek a small envelope. He studies it carefully, subtly picking up the scent.

“It’s from Stiles,” Scott tells him. Derek lifts his head and looks at him widely. He lets his head slowly fall back to the envelope. Derek holds it like it’s going to vanish into ashes, caressing the sides with both his thumbs.

“Did you read it?” Derek asks. Of all the questions running through his mind, he picks this one.

“Didn’t need to, “ Scott replies with a shrug. “He wrote it in front of me.” Scott must pick up how nervous that makes Derek feel, so he’s fast to add, “Read it.”

Derek looks at him and then back at the envelope. “I— why did he—,” he turns to Scott again. “Why?”

“Who knows? I’m pissed at you, he’s not. That clearly shows how—“

“He’s not?” Derek asks, wondering if he just misunderstood.

Scott glares at him, his anger coming to the surface again. “Derek, I swear… if you hurt him again, I will—“

“I won’t. I promise,” he replies calmly.

“Don’t make me regret giving you that,” he points to the envelope that Derek is holding like his life depends on it. “You passed the test, but barely!”

Derek scoffs weakly, “You were testing me?”

“I had to make you feel miserable,” Scott raises an eyebrow at him and in slow motion a big grin pops into his face,  “at least for a while.”

All the tension vanishes right in that moment. Derek rolls his eyes and brings a hand to mess with Scott’s hair, who brushes his hand away and pushes him hard. Derek quickly falls flat on the ground.

“Payback from yesterday,” Scott teases before giving Derek his hand. When he looks at Scott’s hand, he thinks for a second how two people from his pack crowded him to the ground, but helped him to get up right after. He smiles. Months ago, Derek would always be expecting the fall, but never the help.

***

When Scott leaves, Derek takes his time to open the envelope.  He walks around in circles looking at the small paper, like it’s going to reveal itself. He feels better after talking with Scott, but not less nervous. He said he’s not pissed at you, just open it.

Derek sits, takes a deep breath and starts opening the envelope. He can feel his heart throbbing hard on his chest as soon as Stiles’ smell becomes more intense. The piece of paper inside is small, but was folded four times.

Derek reads it over and over again until his hands stop shaking.

***

He didn’t stop to think or clear his mind. It’s too late to back away as Derek reaches Stiles’ hospital door room, envelope shoved inside his jacket.

He stills himself, closes his eyes and tries to slowly relearn how to breathe. Suddenly, there’s noise coming down the corridor and Derek only has time to quickly open the door and get inside. He does his best to close the door without making a sound. There are voices coming from a few rooms ahead and a cart clattering the entire ward. Derek was so busy trying to pick up the sounds, that he missed the most important one. A very much awaken teenage boy.

“Derek?”

He practically jumps out of his skin. Derek promptly tries to adjust his eyes to the darkness of the room, only to find a pair of eyes looking straight at him. There’s a moment of silence where none of them dares to move. The dim light coming from the moon outside the window fills the room, but doesn’t let him face Stiles properly. He can listen to his heartbeat slightly faster and his legs yanking the sheets as he tries to sit up.

“It really is you,” Stiles echoes. Derek nods, or at least, he thinks he does. His brain is too busy trying to find an escape.

“Now there’s something I need to scratch from my bucket list,” Stiles says clearly amused.

“What?” Derek blinks.

“To scare Derek Hale.”

He can’t really see Stiles’ smile, but he doesn’t need to. As the words come out, Derek knows that the boy is grinning like an idiot. Fine, he’ll give him that to savor. To debate that Stiles could never scare him is not important right now. There’s something far more significant in those words.

“Why do you have my name on your bucket list?” Derek questions and doesn’t miss how Stiles’ breath hitches just a little.

“Well,” he starts, “at first I wrote, to scare a werewolf, but then it occurred to me that Scott is a werewolf and that would be too easy to accomplish.” Derek snorts. “So I picked the creepy alpha.”

“I’m not creepy,” Derek argues, but he feels the tension easing and he encourages himself to take a few steps closer to Stiles.

“Really? So you being here while I should be sleeping is not creepy at all.”

“I—“

“Or were you going to wake me up?”

Derek remains quiet for a while. “No,” he murmurs. The silence breaks with Stiles’ sustained laughter, a sound that penetrates Derek’s heart in the best way.

“See? Creepy!”

When their eyes meet, Stiles’ doesn’t drop his smile. It’s too much; too overwhelming. As he keeps staring at Stiles, his face feels like it’s burning, his insides twisting and his heart knocking in his chest. Every second is consuming him, making him feel anxious and unsafe. Trapped in those amber eyes that are looking straight at him.

“I should go,” Derek says turning his gaze away from Stiles.

“What? No!” Stiles reaches for him and his fingers brush the sleeve of his jacket as he pleads.  The moment he’s about to grab it, Stiles hisses and retreats his hand closely to his chest. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Without a second thought, Derek turns to his side again.

Stiles lets out a frustrated sigh before replying, “Surgery, still hurts a bit. I should be careful to not open the stitches.”

“Yeah you should,” Derek adds and can’t help to look at Stiles’ chest where he’s safely holding his hand. Maybe he could take some of his pain away. Maybe just one touch… Without meaning to, he licks his lips, but as soon as Stiles lets his hand drop to the side, Derek comes back to himself. Don’t. When he lifts his head, Stiles is looking at him with wondering eyes.

“You can stay.”

“You should rest.”

“Dude, I spend almost all day in bed craving for visiting hours. I can sleep and rest when I want and don’t want to.”

Derek frowns in wonder, because that image is not suitable for Stiles. Even if he tries, he can’t really imagine the hyperactive teenager still in a bed for an entire day. But then he remembers why Stiles needs to stay in bed and swallows hard. Something dragged him here tonight. Something real. Impulse. He thinks about Erica and everything they talked that night. Unexpectedly her words become clearer with Stiles in front of him. Derek was looking at the person he wanted to protect the most.

“You wrote me a note,” he blurts out.

Stiles eyes go wide in surprise like he wasn’t expecting Derek to bring that up. His heart jolts, he folds his arms together and quickly turns his head down, facing the sheets.  “I— yes?” Stiles chews on his lower lip before letting out an embarrassed chuckle. “I bet Scott was a pain in the ass. But I hope he didn’t— I didn’t— I—“

“I’m sorry,” Derek says not letting a single word stay in his throat. Stiles can’t pick up lies like him, so hopefully he will believe in his words only. Please listen. He waits for Stiles to look at him. It’s unsettling to see Stiles’ surprised expression. Derek doesn’t apologize. Mostly because he expects to be hurt or betrayed sooner or later, so he doesn’t. Despite trusting Stiles, he doesn’t know the outcome of this alliance that has been going on for months. But his heart feels warmer since he ever allowed himself to. It’s like he found another family; people to protect, to fight with, to hold on to, to embrace and cherish — a pack. And then, there’s Stiles.

The weight of Stiles eyes on him makes his throat dry, but he doesn’t hesitate. He can’t.

“I shouldn’t have acted that way and I’m sorry.”

“Derek, it’s—“

“No, it’s not okay.” Derek takes a deep breath before adding; “It was not my place to tell you about your father and everyone else. I—“

“That was a low blow,” Stiles gently admits at the same time as Derek confesses, “I should only talk about myself.”

Silence falls for a few seconds. Seconds that feel like agony. Stiles is looking at him with his open, naked eyes. Derek can see the creases in his face, the nightmares he’s been through, the lies he's told, the worries that kept him from sleeping… Sometimes, Derek is selfish enough to wish that he could take all of that away.

“This is awkward,” Stiles lets out a nervous laugh.

“Why?”

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Stiles turns to meet his gaze and grins widely.

Derek smiles back, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he puts his finger on Stiles’ forehead and presses, forcing him to lie down.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asks looking straight at Derek’s hand.

"Stop thinking and go to sleep,” Derek simply replies, his lips still curled as he slowly puts his hand away. Stiles smells content, even though his heart is racing like a rabbit and Derek is pretty used to it by now. Stiles gets himself comfortable in the sheets and Derek takes a few steps back, without driving his eyes away from him.

As he reaches the door knob, Stiles calls him out, “Will you come back tomorrow?”

For a second, Derek gapes for air; the hopeful question lingering around the room. But he doesn’t allow himself to be encouraged by his thoughts. Derek tries to ignore the way Stiles' voice comes out with anticipation and reverie. Instead, he frowns in surprise.

“It’s already tomorrow,” he argues. Obviously, Stiles rolls his eyes at him. He doesn’t know when Stiles became predictable for him. Sometimes Derek likes to do these things, just to see if Stiles will react the way he thinks he will. Just to see if he still knows the boy. It makes him happy that more and more, Stiles always acts like he expected.

He lets out a smile, “I will.”

Stiles’ eyes crinkle at the edges as he gives Derek one of his wide smiles. “Promise?”

“Promise,” and he leaves.

Chapter Text

***

Stiles sleeps like a baby that night. He really can’t explain the warm and fuzzy feeling that flows inside him. Or how eager he is for visiting hours. Promises are fragile and can be easily broken, but Derek wouldn’t do it… right?

As the day passes, that warmhearted feeling turns into something scarier. He flicks through the channels on TV and after lunch he tries to read one of the magazines that Scott brought him. Stiles lets it drop on his lap as he looks out the window. The sky is clean and peaceful; the wind not so strong, but still makes the trees dance. He lets out a heavy sigh and wonders how can he keep his mind from thinking about the possibility of Derek not coming after all or why he is even giving it so much importance. Even though he saved him that night, even though he was worried about him, even though he yelled at him, even though he came back, even though he promised… Even though Stiles should know better. He can’t expect Derek to stay in his life, so why would he even make him promise to come? Not everything is perfect right now, but the alphas are gone. There are no reasons for Derek to be hanging out with them anymore. What if he decides to leave town? No, please don’t, he begs inside his mind. Stiles tries to shake his thoughts away and lets his gaze drop back to the magazine without really looking at it.

His heart feels like it’s shrinking and it hurts. Is it that bad that he wishes the alpha pack wasn’t dead and over with? Or that maybe a new creature could find its home in Beacon Hills? But then he thinks about the deaths and how he’s such an awful person for wishing these things. Anything to prevent him to being set apart from those moments he had with Derek during these past few months... It’s not like being with Scott, he thinks. They’ve known each other for years, his constant presence and his friendship is something that already lives with Stiles. Not with Derek. With him it’s different… it’s breakable. It’s not like they met in school, bought ice cream together and read comics until dinner. That’s the bond he has with Scott, his brother and partner in crime that will always drive his father and Melissa crazy, no matter what age.

Derek and Stiles were forced to become allies and pass through events that most teenagers will only see in the movies. Stiles may not know much about friends, but he recognizes that this is not the ideal way of creating a solid friendship. So, he’s scared of what the future might bring. But why?

He’s not worried about Allison, because he believes that this little Romeo and Juliet story that she and Scott have been living will not end tragically. Lydia, Jackson and Danny, well, it’s not like he’s part of the cool gang now, but he knows they will stick around too. No, he fears mostly about the group of outcasts; more precisely, the Hale pack. Even though Isaac has become a good friend of Scott. And sometimes they would bring Boyd to play some video games, even knowing he would just sit and watch. Erica would tag along too and despite being all fierce and sexy, Stiles can still see that fragile girl in her sometimes. During those days, where they would take a break from all the alpha craziness, Stiles felt like he was living a normal teenage life. He has made some really nice new friends this past year. And then there’s Derek.

***

The first time he saw Derek genuinely laugh, it was like the whole world had stopped. Isaac said something funny at Boyd that Stiles barely registered, because seconds later Derek was laughing and they were all smiles. He remembers just being there and staring with Allison calling him out, while he kept thinking how Derek should always be smiling.

Derek would still be "broody Derek" around him and Allison. Not mad or bored, he was just… serious and concentrated. Stiles tested him a few times. He would crack a joke or two in the middle of their meetings, but only Allison would let out a contained giggle, while Derek would roll his eyes and continue with the research. But then there it was, Isaac, Boyd and Derek laughing. Stiles thinks that maybe he felt a bit jealous at the time, even though that’s a really strong word that he doesn’t want to think about. He eventually gave up trying to make Derek laugh, when he snapped at him and told him to please pay more attention.

That was until one meeting, where Allison texted Stiles that she was going to be late. There he was alone with Derek at the train depot, fidgeting with a pen and unable to be still. While Derek was looking around some boxes, not even paying him much attention. So Stiles started drawing on the notebook that was placed in front of him. He had no idea what he was doing and it’s not like he knew how to draw either. He was just bored and tired of waiting.

His primitive drawing started as a wolf, because of course that was the first thing that came to his mind with all the alpha information lying around the table. Then the wolf won a cape and as a final touch─

“What the hell is that?” His whole body startled when Derek appeared behind him and let out a small incredulous chuckle.

“Hmm,” he pondered for a while looking at his drawing. “Batwolf?”

“Batwolf,” Derek repeated with a snort. “You’re ridiculous,” and he turned away, but not in time for Stiles to miss his smile.

“You’re smiling!” He practically jumped from the chair where he was sitting, ever so gracefully, that his leg hit the table letting some papers fall on the ground.  “Oops, sorry,” he bent down to get them as fast as possible. He felt his cheeks burn, but his smile widened, because he could sense the alpha laughing behind him.

From that day on, it felt like a wall had been broken between them. Stiles felt victorious and a little too smug for his own good, every time he was able to make Derek crack a smile. It felt a bit disappointing that Allison couldn’t pick up the importance of this. Actually, no one seemed to care. For a while, Stiles thought that maybe he was seeing things, but no. Why was he the only one feeling good about making Derek Hale, the moody alpha, smile? Or maybe he was going crazy, because for a while he would seek out his smile even with bad jokes. Derek wouldn’t laugh, but he would still see his lips curl. For Stiles, that still counted as a win.

Stiles wants to keep doing that and more. He wants to have inside jokes like Derek has with Isaac and Boyd. He wants to joke about a movie that they both watched, because maybe wanting to watch a movie with Derek is crossing the line. Though, maybe he could invite them all and it would stop being weird. Maybe Derek likes to play games too and they could team up against Scott and Isaac. Maybe he likes comics or… Maybe, just maybe, Stiles should stop thinking about an ideal future of everyone together and happy. Maybes and promises can’t help him bring his past back, where he lost a piece of himself. Stiles should feel grateful for having people around him that manage to fill that empty part of his heart, but he doesn’t. And he feels too selfish for wanting more.

***

When the commotion starts outside his room, Stiles knows that visiting hours just started. It doesn’t take long for his father to come rushing inside his room. And as soon as he approaches his bed, Stiles can’t believe who’s right behind him.

“Hey son,” his father greets him and pulls him in for a hug. Not a tight Stilinski hug, softer, but still feeling like home and safety. While he’s greeting his father back, Stiles side glances back at Derek, who’s still standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

“Hi Derek!” Stiles exclaims and even he can feel his own face brighten. His father eyes him in a skeptical way, which makes him shift uneasily in his sheets. But it was worth it, because Derek is finally stepping inside waving his hand awkwardly.

“Scott is outside too with the Argent and Martin girl,” his father prompts while sitting in the chair next to his bed. “But they let Derek in first.” If Derek looked out of place before, he looks like he’s ready to flee now. Stiles is about to say something, but his father interrupts him.

“How are you feeling today?”

“Bored,” he sighs dramatically, “Forever, always and so, so bored. I’m going nuts here, when can I leave?”

“Stiles,” his father warns him, “we talked about this with the doctor. At least one more week and that’s only if the exams show you’re good to go.”

“But dad… I feel fine,” he lets his arms fly in desperation, but flinches halfway when a jolt of pain hits is chest and he hisses.

“Right. Hale, back me up a little here.”

Derek looks startled, not quite expecting his father to address him. Stiles wonders if they ever talked about… well, anything. What if they talked while he was unconscious? Though, just by looking at Derek, Stiles would bet they didn’t.

“He’s right, Stiles. You─ you should rest.”

“Why don’t you ask Scott to bring you some homework? That will keep you occupied,” his father points out.

Stiles rolls his eyes and grumbles something that probably only Derek could pick up. But his father looks amused, so it’s worth it. He momentarily looks at both men in his room, thinking how odd this must be for them as it is for him. So he instantly decides to break the silence.

“So, any new exciting crimes to solve?”

His father’s smile quickly vanishes and from the corner of his eye he can see Derek flinch.

“Stiles! Don’t think you got into enough trouble?” His father scolds. So maybe that wasn’t the right way to break the tension.

“I’m just curious! It’s not like I’m going to do anything from here,” he replies.

“Fine,” his father lets out a heavy tired sigh. “You don’t need to worry though, there’s nothing going on.” Stiles’ gaze drops on Derek and he can see his eyebrows ease up a little, not like they both don’t know the reason why the town is much calmer now.

“But the police chief in Sacramento called me yesterday warning us about some strange events.” Both him and Derek perk at that. “I’m supposed to go there for a few days once you leave the hospital.“ When Stiles is about to open his mouth to say something, his father lifts his hand to stop him. “Only when you leave the hospital.”

“But what kind of events?” Stiles asks and his father can most likely sense how eager he is about this. His father’s eyes turn to Derek, probably wondering if he should actually share information with him in the room. Derek is smart enough to take the hint.

“I’m─ I’m going to leave. And tell Scott to come in,” he rushes to the doorway, but comes to a stop nearly a second after and turns back to face Stiles. “Take care Stiles,” and leaves without letting him reply. Take care?

It took him a few seconds to get back to his dad, who looks at him a bit too curious.

“Dad, what events?” He asks again.

His dad frowns, but eventually gives away. “Just some animals being attacked, nothing too serious. Could be worse, considering what this town has seen on the last few months.”

Stiles snorts, “Yeah.”

After a minute of silence, the bomb explodes. Stiles was already expecting it and to be honest, he doesn’t know how his father took so long to ask.

“Stiles,” his father starts, “don’t think I’m stupid or blind. I’ve been patient, because you’re still… here. But I’m going to ask, and you will tell me the truth.”

“Dad…”

“The truth, Stiles.” His father leans back in the chair, fingers pressing hard on his eyes. “I swear to God if you tell me one more lie…”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the only thing he can say right now. As his father looks at him, Stiles just wants to curl in bed and cover himself. To hide from his father and of all the lies he’s been telling him. They stay quiet for a moment and Stiles wonders how long is going to take for Scott to break in; to please get inside and cheer up the room.

His father lets his elbows rest on his knees without dropping his gaze. He looks at him like Stiles is broken and lost. “I just want to know why my son almost died,” his voice is shaky and Stiles knows that if he keeps looking at him the tears will start flowing, so he faces the other way. “I’m not asking for much. Just the truth.”

“I’ll─ you will,” Stiles assures him, “Just not here, please?” He finally lets the corner of his eyes fall on his father’s figure, who’s slowly nodding. A understanding and hurtful expression covers his face. Why does he understand? He should yell at him, but instead he pats his hand and gets up.

“I have a late shift tonight. Do you need something from home? I can pass by later and leave it with Melissa.”

Stiles relaxes just a tiny bit and ponders. He just wants to go home.

“No,” he replies with a forced smile.

“Okay,” his father leans over him and ruffles with his hair before placing a soft kiss on his forehead. A small gesture that he barely receives from him anymore, but it was so common with his mother. A rush of guilt and sadness invades him, because Stiles doesn’t deserve any of this from his father. He can’t help to remember the heated words Derek shouted at him. For how long has his father been tormenting himself over what happened? They only have each other, yet, Stiles can’t tell him the truth. He just can’t.

His father stops himself on the same spot where Derek was standing moments ago. “One more thing,” he quickly turns to look at Stiles again. “About Derek… should I worry about him?”

Stiles eyes widen in surprise, “What? Why would you─ why?”

“Well, does he have anything to do with this?”

The thing is, he can’t say no or yes either. It’s not Derek’s fault, but to say he’s not involved… it would just be another lie. “Dad, you know he was the one who brought me to the hospital. You told me yourself.”

“Another reason to make me feel suspicious about it. Why was he there in the middle of the night with you?” His father frowns and crosses his arms.

Stiles is caught off guard by the question. He doesn’t want to lie, but how can he tell him the truth without spilling out the rest? What would he say when most of his friends are werewolves and his best friend is right down the hall? What would his father do?!

“You don’t need to worry about him,” he starts, “he’s a friend. My friend. Scott’s friend too. You just─ don’t worry, he’s a good person.”

His father remains still for awhile before saying, “I’m glad I can still tell when you’re not lying. Especially when you and Scott were the ones─“

“That was a mistake! You know that, dad,” Stiles tells him desperately.

“I know. I’m just relieved I don’t have to arrest him again.”

“You don’t.”

“Good. All is good then,” his father promptly says. “I’ll see what’s keeping your friend Scott. Get some rest, son.” He smiles at him before leaving the room. A sad and tired smile, that Stiles won’t be able to brush off from his mind later at night.

***

During the night he wakes up with every little noise, hoping that someone will come see him again. When Scott came to visit him, he was with Allison and they were laughing together for the first time in a very long time. Stiles couldn’t bring himself to spoil the moment. So he forced the smiles until they were out of the room, but during that time all he could think about was his father’s sad expression.

That night was the longest one, since he woke up at the hospital. He wanted to talk with someone, even if for just a brief moment. Yet, no one came that night and soon enough it was morning again.

Melissa was the first one to greet him as she entered the room with a small tray. Just like yesterday, porridge is on the menu. It makes him nauseous, but Melissa tells him that she can fetch some milk if he eats at least half of it. He starts eating after she leaves and turns on the TV; to make the digestion a bit more tolerable.

“…the police are still trying to find a connection. Meanwhile, we still don’t know the identity of the girl or why she was alone in the woods. The police chief told us that her face is now unrecognizable, but the investigation will keep going. This was Jessica Melville from Sacramento. Back to you Carl-“

“See? That wasn’t so hard. Here’s your─“

“You need to call Scott,” Stiles hurries to tell Melissa, who just got into his room again.

“Why? Do you need something? Your father is on his way here, I can─“

“What? My father? But it’s so early…”

“He told me he needs to go out of town, but he wants to see you first,” Melissa informs him. “Is there something wrong, Stiles?”

“I─ I honestly don’t know, but─ have you seen the news?”

“No, what happened?”

“I don’t know, but you need to tell Scott. I think─”

“You think it’s a…” she comes closer to him before whispering, “werewolf?”

“It might be?”

There’s a pause and Stiles can see how Melissa’s expression quickly changes.

“Okay, I’ll call him. I’ll send your father in, once he gets here.”

He nods and watches Melissa leave again. Stiles browses all the TV channels available, hoping to find out more about the murder in Sacramento. It sucks to not have his computer.

***

Stiles tries to get some information from his father too, but it’s in vain. All he gets is the same speech that’s been going on the news all morning. His dad assures him that he won’t stay more than one day away, because his son is far more important than a crime out of his jurisdiction. Stiles can’t stop his thoughts from telling him that he’s unworthy of the trouble, but he manages a smile before his dad’s departure.

To his surprise, Stiles gets the visit from Scott right after his father left.

“Scott, five minutes,” Melissa tells him before closing the door.

“Do you know what happened?” Stiles asks right when his best friend sits on the chair, still on the same spot next to his bed.

“Nope, just some girl that was attacked,” Scott replies. “It’s not far from here, so Derek thinks it might be Peter.”

“I thought about that too! What if it’s really him? What is he going to do?”

“We’re going there now to see─“

“What? You’re going to Sacramento?”

“Yes, we’re─“

“Dude, my father is going too! You can’t─“

“I know! We’ll be careful. He won’t see us. Trust me.” Scott reassures him.

“Who’s going?”

“All of us. Well, except Allison.”

“But─ why?” Stiles asks him curiously.

“We talked about it and Derek said─ well, we don’t want to leave you alone. So, she’ll be staying with you.”

“Seriously?! I don’t need a babysitter! Besides, I’m in the hospital. What can possibly happen here? Nothing happens here, I can tell you.”

Scott is fast to roll his eyes, “What if it is Peter and he decides to come back here?”

“He wouldn’t do anything to me in a hospital.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Scott claims.

“Okay, granted. But what could Allison do alone?”

“She’s─ Stiles, it’s just a precaution! And this way, she can also keep you informed.”

“Low blow, man. Very low,” Stiles glares at him. “Why not Lydia then? Wait, is Lydia going too?!”

“Yes, she is.” Stiles can’t understand why Scott is so calm about this. “We thought about everything, Stiles. We need someone who can use mountain ash if needed. Besides, Lydia is immune. We have werewolves, hunters─“

“But she had this crazy weirdo connection with that psycho! You can’t let her─”

“Stiles, she was the one who volunteered to come. She knows the risks.”

“You’re only saying that, because Allison is the one staying behind,” the words are out before he even realizes. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought you didn’t like Lydia anymore,” Scott simply says.

“What does that have to do with anything? She’s my friend!”

“Well, she’s my friend too and we won’t let anything happen to her. I promise,” Scott clarifies before bumping him softly on the shoulder. “Jackson would go crazy,” he says with a grin.

“Yeah,” Stiles snorts. “So you’re all going…”

“Yes. Derek is waiting outside in the car with Isaac. Chris is coming with us too, but he’s already on his way with the others,” he tells him before standing up. “I have to go.”

***

Stiles is lucky enough that Dr. Smith comes by an hour later. He tells him that he will start some simple physiotherapy today, just to prevent muscle atrophy. Stiles is thankful for the distraction, but mostly to be out of that room. It actually makes him so tired, that after lunch he falls asleep with the TV on. Minutes after he wakes up, Allison is there as Scott told him.

“How are you doing?” Allison asks him. Typically, Stiles would shrug and tell her he’s fine, but he’s known Allison for almost two years now. During this time, he saw her at her best, but mostly at her worst. Since they were put in the same group together, Stiles feels strangely close to her. Allison has this calm aura around her that makes him want to confide in her. Though, Stiles could never tell this to his best friend.

“I’m worried about them,” he confesses.

“Don’t be. I talked with Lydia before coming and they still haven’t found anything.”

“That’s not very reassuring,” he frowns.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right, but they’re safe,” Allison smiled. He returns the gesture, but shortly lets his gaze turn to the TV, now with a much lower volume.

“Sorry that they made you stick with me,” he blurts it out.

“What? Stiles, no one made me stay. We all agreed to do it like this,” she says before grabbing his hand to hold it tight. Stiles looks at her. “Besides, are you saying you don’t enjoy my company?”

It’s a question with a playful tone, which makes him laugh because she knows too well that’s not true. Allison laughs too and when silence falls again her smile doesn’t drop.

“It’s good to see you smile again.”

“I’m always smiling,” he argues.

“You weren’t yesterday.”

“I─ I was, but─ how did you notice?”

“I just know you, that’s all,” she replies with a shrug.

Stiles can’t help smiling again, “I guess that’s good?”

“Well, someone needs to see through our knight in shining armor,” she winks and Stiles laughs loudly at the words.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I think you saved us all at least once, so that makes you our knight. Oh, but maybe you prefer Batman?”

Stiles snorts, “We’re always protecting each other. I just do what I can, I guess,” he shrugs, “Besides, I’ve been saved many times by─“

“Derek?” Allison promptly asks.

He frowns at her, “Yes, Derek. And Scott too. You also helped me with Ethan that time, so…”

She smiles, “That’s true,” she pauses for a brief moment and starts playing with her fingers on a strand of hair. “But Derek has a much bigger record against us.”

“I guess,” Stiles ignores the way his heart stutters, but Allison is still holding his hand, so he wonders if she picked up something. He could tell her. He would feel so much better if he could talk to someone about these… feelings. Stiles doesn’t even know what to think of them, but maybe Allison could help him figure them out. He trusts her. She wouldn’t tell anyone or judge him. Maybe he could…

“Do you still love Scott?” The question clearly takes her by surprise and Stiles regrets it immediately when Allison lets go of his hand. She places both of her hands in her lap, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Yes,” she breathes out and laughs nervously seconds later. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m sorry I asked. I shouldn’t─“

“No, it’s okay. But… don’t tell him?” She begs while anxiously biting her lip.

“Of course not,” Stiles replies.

“Why the sudden question?”

“I─ well, I was just wondering… How do you know that you still love him?”

“Hmm,” her eyes fix on him, “Is this about Lydia?”

“No, no. Definitely not about Lydia. I just─ it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

“There’s no way to know for sure,” Allison starts. “Like when you fall in love? You don’t realize you’ve fallen for that person, until everything is too much.”

“Too much?”

“There’s no way of explaining that feeling. You’re constantly smiling, you put that person’s happiness before yours, you get jealous, you defend them, you accept their flaws, and you always want to be with that person. And then there’s also pain. It hurts, because you care about them,” she pauses to look down at her entangled hands. “You said you were worried about them, well, I’m worried sick about Scott, because he’s a fool and sometimes he does foolish things. That’s part of why I love him.” She raises her head again and Stiles can see some tears forming in her eyes. He extends his arm, so she can hold his hand again.

“Sorry, I’m being silly,” she says when their hands meet.

“No,” he shakes his head; “you’re being honest with your heart. I wish I could do the same,” he mumbles the last part.

“I thought you knew all this? I mean, you and Lydia…”

“Lydia? No─ Yes? I’ve had a crush on her for years, but─“

“Not like this?”

He shakes his head again, “No, I actually felt everything you just said, but now it’s more… intense." Stiles momentarily glances at her, restless and unsure, when Allison stays quiet for too long.

“You like someone!” She practically squeals when their eyes meet, almost flipping out of the chair.

“It’s no big deal,” he says shyly.

“Of course it is! Who is it? Do I know her?”

Stiles gapes and for a moment he really doesn’t know what to say. Obviously, Allison thinks it’s a girl, which makes this even more awkward.

“I don’t even know if it’s like that... These─ these feelings, I don’t know if─“

“If it’s love?” Allison asks and Stiles slowly nods. The word love makes his chest ache.

Allison grips his hand tighter and smiles before saying, “Don’t worry, you will.”

Half an hour later, when Allison is about to leave, her phone rings.

“Scott?”

“Yes, I’m here with him. Have you found anything yet?”

“Isn’t that a bit too dangerous?”

Stiles watches her closely. He doesn’t like how she frowns and quickly tries to say something, but Allison raises a hand up to stop him.

“Just make sure you all stick together.”

“I know, but it’s important!”

“Yes, I’ll tell him.”

Allison is about to hang up, when Scott on the other side makes her change her mind.

“Hmm?” She looks at Stiles attentively, “Okay, hold on just a second,” he hears her say before she passes him the phone.

“Scott? Please tell me you’re not about to do something stupid,” Stiles says.

“Not Scott,” a voice he knows too well says, “though, I can’t really promise he won’t.”

“Derek?” Stiles stiffens.

“You got it right this time,” there’s a chuckle on the other side that makes the butterflies in his stomach go wild. “How are you today?” Derek asks, voice so soft that Stiles could almost melt.

“I’m─ I’m fine. I started physiotherapy today. They let me walk for some time and even do some exercises with my arms.” Stiles wants to punch himself, because it’s like he’s reporting his day to his father, but the sensation immediately goes away when Derek replies.

“That’s great, Stiles.” Stiles doesn’t know if Derek is smiling on the other side, but he imagines he is and because of it he can’t fight the smile that forms in his face. It’s only when he remembers that Allison is still by his side that Stiles realizes he didn’t reply to Derek.

“Please be careful to not cross paths with my father.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep it low profile from the police,” Derek says, voice so calm that Stiles knows he can trust him. But…

“And Derek?”

“Yes?”

“Please be safe,” Stiles says, voice caught in his throat. If Derek were here, he probably wouldn’t say it. It scares him to think about it.

On the other side, Derek lets out a small chuckle, “We’ll be back in no time.”

“Okay.”

“Bye Stiles.”

“See you later, Derek,” because he doesn’t like to say goodbye. Derek seems hesitant to hang up, but eventually the line drops a few seconds later.

***

Allison tells him that they’re going to stay in a motel and while some are going to search around the city, the others will go to the forest. Stiles figures that she doesn’t ask him about Derek, because the whole plan makes her worry. But he doesn’t miss her knowing look when he tells her that Derek will take care of Scott and that her father is an experienced hunter.

Melissa enters the room shortly after and they keep her updated, but avoid talking about how splitting up seems a bit dangerous. Although he feels less in the dark, Stiles can’t help worrying too.

At night, he lies down facing the window. It takes him a while to fall asleep and looking at the starry night makes him think about his friends. And Derek. He mostly keeps thinking about Derek and how he can’t seem to shake him off from his thoughts. He remembers Allison’s words: “It hurts, because you care”. And once he does, sleep comes easily.

Chapter Text

“We’re lost,” Scott remarks.

“We’re not lost,” Derek retorts.

“Are you sure?” Isaac asks. “I could swear we were here before.”

“It’s a forest! Everything looks the same.” Derek tells him at the same time as Erica scolds, “Would you two just shut up? How can we scout this forest if you two keep making noise?”

Scott and Isaac reluctantly shut up, while Derek moves ahead.

The forest is dark and dismal, lifeless compared to the one in Beacon Hills. No sounds from animals, just their footsteps as they walked further in. The moon is bright tonight, but even then its light is not allowed to penetrate the dense walls of the forest as they walk deeper and deeper. It’s probably the same during the day, making it impossible for the sunrays to warm the atmosphere. The branches of the trees casted weird shaped shadows, but there’s no wind and the forest is unnaturally silent. It makes them instinctually walk closer to each, as if something is lurking around and breathing down their necks.

After almost half an hour, they finally find the crime scene. The whole place screams evil to its very core. The smell of blood and wet dirt is too intense, but Derek picks up another smell. He knows this scent too well.

“Peter was here,” anger sweeping through him as he announces to the rest. “Something is off,” he notices seconds after.

“What is it?” Scott asks him.

“I don’t know, but stay close to each other.”

As his words come out, a living shadow appears among the trees, only a few feet ahead them. Derek doesn’t think twice. The others follow him closely; Erica right behind him. He runs faster, ignoring the branches that caught his jeans and scratch his skin. The fog from afar almost blocks his vision. Derek wolfs out as the smell of Peter gets closer and closer, but the shadow keeps moving faster until it fully disappears in the middle of the very dense mist. Something is not right.

“Scott!” Derek abruptly comes to a stop as Erica yells Scott’s name. He looks to the left to see Scott chasing the shadow. Another shadow? It can’t be the same shadow, he thinks. They try to catch up with him and call him out, but Scott ignores them as if he’s not listening anymore. Derek’s breathing quickens, but he feels like he’s suffocating with Peter’s scent, disturbing all of his senses. Scott is leaping further and further away, a tiny dot that’s fading by the second. The mist surrounds and traps them. They lose sight of him.

“Don’t wander off!” Derek desperately begs Isaac and Erica. He takes out his phone to call Scott, but shortly Isaac spots another shadow. He hesitates to run, but only for a millisecond before Derek meets his eyes. They chase after it, Isaac not too much ahead of them. The steady thump of their footsteps echoes in Derek’s ears. It’s the only sound besides the air rushing in and out of their lungs. He forces his senses to keep up with the rush. The smell of Peter is so nearby, that Derek can almost feel his breath on him.

The mist slows them down, but it’s better to not get separated. When Erica falls behind him, Derek freezes. It only takes him a few seconds to make a decision, but Isaac is already a blurred shape and far-gone. When Derek leans down next to Erica, she’s sobbing and hurt, her foot caught in some kind of animal trap.

“Derek, what’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” he replies. Derek looks around. No signs of Scott and Isaac. As he’s helping Erica out, the mist that’s been surrounding them becomes even denser, trapping them even more. Derek’s breath hitches in his throat. The smell makes Derek’s lungs scream even louder.

“This smell…” Erica says between coughs.

“Wolfsbane,” Derek can’t forgive himself for missing it. He was too obsessed chasing Peter. Why, is the first question that pops into his mind. Chris assured them that the local hunters were going to cooperate. Why is this forest drowned in wolfsbane? What have they been chasing all this time? Hunters? No, Derek is sure that he picked Peter’s scent.

He helps Erica to get up and doesn’t let go of her hand.

“Stay close to me no matter what,” Derek says in a whisper. She nods and tightens her grip on his hand. They opt to walk instead of running, cautiously avoiding the places where the wolfsbane mist seems ticker. His heart is pounding hard, sweat crossing his forehead. The surge of adrenaline he felt before is now turning into pure fear.

But it’s Derek who bolts first this time, as another silhouette flashes only a few trees ahead. He doesn’t let go of Erica’s hand, dragging her out to an even darker place of the forest. Derek looks over his shoulder long enough to catch Erica from the corner of his eye, just making sure. She tightens her grip in his hand as they sprint further into what seems like a deadly maze, the angry pitter-patter of their shoes hitting the leaves on the ground. The walls of the forest seem to close around them. They stay together, until they’re not. He holds his breath when he stops feeling her hand.

“Erica? Erica!” How could she just disappear? Derek looks around, there’s nothing but trees and a darkness that sends chills up and down his spine; the wolfsbane mist making it impossible to even see his feet. He takes his phone out, dials Scott’s number, but there’s no signal. It’s like he’s suddenly inside a void, lost and alone with no sounds whatsoever. There’s no life here. He can go either way, but where?

“Scared?”

A voice he knows too well rips him apart. Peter doesn’t show himself, but Derek knows he’s looking right at him. He stands still and tries hard not to breathe out loud, ready for an attack at any second.

“What have you done?” Derek growls.

Peter laughs. An evil laugh that circles him. And then screams. Erica. Isaac. Scott.

He starts running as fast as he can in their direction, without thinking. No hesitations at all as their screams become stronger and painful. He can barely even breathe, but he forces his legs to move faster and faster. He gnashes his canines ferociously; clawed hands snapping at any obstruction in his path. The branches and bushes paint grim scratches all over his arms and face at the speed he’s dashing through the forest. It stings and he’s bleeding, but fury and despair make him lose control. Derek doesn’t know for how long he’s been running. He doesn’t realize that the screams are gone and then he’s falling. As he hits the solid ground, bones break everywhere; a pain that makes him cry out and then everything is pitch black.

***

He doesn’t open his eyes right away. He wants to claw his eyes out because of how bad his head is spinning. Derek tries to get up and hisses at the pain on his right leg, most likely broken. He hits with his other foot on a wall, which immediately puts him on alert. He looks around, but there’s not much to see. A big wall made with dark bricks that surrounds him and seems to have no end. There’s moss all around him and the floor is too cold and wet. He’s inside a well. Very much deep inside.

Derek looks up once more. He can barely see the trees around the well, because of how far deep he is. He tries to get up holding on his left leg, reaching out with his hands to the mossy wall. The bricks are uneven enough for him to climb the wall, once his leg heals. But he panics once he hears someone approaching. Not just anyone. Derek takes a deep breath, before looking up.

“My dear nephew. I see you finally woke up,” Peter practically purrs. Derek is now his prey, deeply trapped inside a well. He will not give him the satisfaction of showing how petrified he feels. Instead, he focuses on anger.

“I honestly didn’t expect it to be this easy,” Peter starts. “That girl was such a perfect bait. She was quite thrilled for it. Well, for the most part. You see…”

Derek almost chokes when Peter’s sharp eyes turn red.

“You—“

“Yes. An alpha,” and his smile is so evil and twisted that Derek feels like throwing up. Flashes of his sister being killed by this— this monster rush through his mind.

“How?” Derek asks him, not quite prepared for the answer, already feeling terrified.

His uncle gives him a predatory smile. “I traveled north after I left. I was not really looking for a pack, but I found these two kids… So alone and defenseless. Just like you!” Peter’s smile got wider and Derek could almost taste the blood in his words. “Long story short, their pack was useless. I did them a favor.”

“Of course,” Derek growls, teeth grinding and anger seeping through his voice. He doesn’t take his eyes from Peter, who’s still smiling and staring at him with red eyes. “Why did you come back?”

Peter chuckles, a sound that torments Derek even more.

“Derek, Derek. Did you know”, he starts while pacing around the well, “this well was built centuries ago? I’m sure you studied the classical period of witch hunting,” Peter pauses briefly to take pleasure on how Derek’s heart stutters. “Some people believed they were women possessed by the devil, but how could you be sure?” Peter stops walking and smirks. Derek’s fingers itch with the uncontrollable desire of smacking the smug look off his face. “This well was built to prove that theory,” Derek sees his uncle move a handle down. Immediately after, a rusty noise circles the walls. The sound of water flushing through old pipes. “They would drown them first and wait patiently.” Some of the bricks start moving. “If they survived the drowning, they believed it was because of the devil’s help.” Derek can see the water slowly coming inside. “Obviously, they would be burned alive right after. But the people believed that the innocent ones were given a chance to be purified by God.”

“What are you doing?!” Derek shouts panicked.

“Don’t be scared, nephew. It’s much better than being burned alive. Trust me.”

“You’re insane!” Derek looks down at his feet, splashing a bit of the water around. His leg is still healing, but— “I’m going to kill you when I get out of here.”

Peter makes a dark inhumane chuckle that gradually gets louder as his smile widens.

“Oh yes, I was almost forgetting the best part!”

He leaves momentarily and through the clatter of the water filling the well, Derek can hear the sound of rusty metal moving… like an old wheel. Suddenly, some of the bricks on the top fall next to him and some more mechanical noises echo inside the well. When Peter shows his face again, Derek stops breathing when metal bars burst from all sides, encaging him even more.

“As you see, only the devil could help those women,” Peter says delighted.

“You’re the devil!” Derek barks. “I can’t believe I trusted you.”

“Oh. That’s quite adorable, but you see…” he cautiously leans down his head inside the well, “I never did.”

 Derek stares at him with wide confused eyes.

“I want to destroy you and everything you have,” Peter simply says, no hesitation whatsoever in his voice. Derek shivers at how calm his uncle seems. His uncle and the only family he has left.

“I don’t have anything,” Derek replies, trying to brush off his panic.

“We both know that’s not quite true, but if it helps you to die peacefully…” Peter stares at his hand and takes his claws out, like he’s admiring them for the first time. “I saw Stiles’ father in town. What do you think if I turn him first and then send him to kill everyone else?”

“Don’t you d—“

“I was never a fan of getting my hands dirty, but—”

“If you touch him—“

“I think he would actually appreciate it. Being kept in the dark for so long must be so hard. All parents like to know the truth,” only then Peter turns to look at him, sharp teeth showing around the edges of his mouth.

“Peter,” Derek warns him once more.

“Do you think Stiles would want the bite with his dad as a werewolf?”

“I swear if—“

“Then maybe Scott would want to join my pack.”

“You better pray that I don’t get out of here.”

Peter laughs again, louder than any of the other times. Derek snarls at him, but it’s almost pathetic from where he is.

“Your betas are useless though. I don’t need them,” Peter muses.

“Those betas killed your alpha friends,” Derek argues.

“Just some chess pieces. I can always replace them,” he tells him. “I’m not following a schedule here, but it’s sweet to finally have my revenge.”

“What revenge? What did I ever do to you?!”

“How dare you to ask me that?!” Peter growls. It’s so loud and scary, that it makes Derek take a step back until his back hits the wall.

“They all died in that fire. The fire you caused, the fire you—“

“No, I—“

“SILENCE!” Peter snaps and his words echo through the well for what an unbelievable amount of time, like every one of his ancestors just yelled at him. Peter is fuming and for the first time since he fell in that well, Derek is thankful for the bars that separate them.

“I’ve lost everything on that night, even my own sanity. I couldn’t breathe or think. I was burning and scared for my life, watching everyone I loved burning and screaming with me. The smoke choking us all, as every single exit was sealed.” Peter’s voice breaks, but it comes back louder and steady after a few breaths. “There was no escape from the fire, from the smoke, from the screams! Every cell of my body that survived spent years screaming for revenge. You are the last one.”

They stay silent, with only the sound of water rushing in, now almost above Derek’s ankles. He doesn’t know what to do or say. His leg is healed; he could climb the wall and try to break the bars. Peter wouldn’t let him. Peter wants to watch him die, just like he watched his whole family die years ago. Derek closes his eyes to think. He needs to think about the others. Peter can’t hurt the others.

“Leave the others out of this. I beg you,” because right now it’s the only thing he can do.

“Why should I do that?” Peter snorts.

“They have nothing to do with this,” Derek says and adds after a pause: “Besides, what’s the point of going after them when I’m already dead?”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” He spits the words out. “This is why you were never meant to be an alpha, Derek. Lesson number one, don’t beg to your enemies. Number two, don’t show them your weaknesses.” Peter tells him with a smirk. “Your friends are your weakness and I’m going to make their lives a living hell, even when you’re deeply buried in a pile of dirt.”

Derek drops his gaze to the floor and the water is still coming inside. He puts his hand to his right pocket and takes his cell phone out. No signal. Hope is something that he barely has. A luxury he was never able to afford. But he dials Scott’s number anyway. Nothing. He tries them all. Even Stiles, who he knows doesn’t even have his phone with him. Stiles and Allison are the only ones who are safe right now. Derek wants to warn them. To warn everyone to stay away. Surprisingly, he doesn’t wish to be saved, but to save them.

Derek glances up again. Peter is still lurking on the top and behind him the sky changes to a gradient of colors from dark blue to a warm orange. Even with the morning approaching, his nightmare is far from ending.

He does the only thing that he can. He howls loud and fierce, but still sounding like a miserable cry. A desperate howl that never seems to reach the surface and is muffled by the thick brick walls of the well.

Peter laughs again.

Chapter Text

Stiles dreamt about the forest that night.

***

It was a bright sunny day and he was running up the hill. But he wasn’t alone. Among the trees you could see four wolves following him. Two brown ones, one white and the one closer to him was black. He wasn’t scared, Stiles felt happy and alive. They were playing with him, trying to catch him. The black wolf tackled him and he fell among the golden leaves; his laughter warming up the whole forest. The other wolves gathered around him as he stood still, looking up to the blue bright sky. The brown wolves were quiet by his feet, while the pure white wolf stayed closer to his left. The black wolf seemed quite fond of him, as he put his head resting above his chest by his right side.

Stiles lay there listening to the birds singing and the stream of the lake not too far from there. It felt like the forest was glowing above him with the sun light coming through the trees. He couldn’t get tired of the earthy smell and the wind blowing softly on his cheeks.

Everything felt so real and so peaceful. The quietness of the forest and the warmth coming from the wolves made him feel at home. He closed his eyes and continued petting the wolves by his sides.

Seconds later, there was a howl. A lonely scared wolf crying. When Stiles opened his eyes, the golden bright forest transformed itself into a dark, gloomy, terrifying scene. The sun was gone and so was the black wolf, while the rest of the wolves remained by his side. He realized that he was no longer at the preserve of Beacon Hills. The wolves started howling back as Stiles stood up from the ground. The lone wolf cried again; and again. The desperate sound was tearing him apart.

Stiles kneeled before the wolves, “Go help him, please.”

The brown wolves parted, but not the female white wolf. She stood by his side as they watched their friends leave. Stiles kept petting her white thick fur as tears started forming on his eyes. The lone wolf kept howling, leaving Stiles gasping for air. He was terrified for him.

“Don’t worry, dear,” a too familiar voice made him jump and turn his head to the left. Instead of the white wolf, there was now a woman. She was beautiful and smiling at him brightly; a big contrast to the horrible forest around them.

Stiles knew this woman, but how—. Once he started crying, there was no way to hold back the tears. His mother gripped his hand and squeezed it tight. She didn’t try to wipe off his tears. Everything was so overwhelming that he couldn’t breathe or move. He couldn’t—

***

“Stiles!”

“Stiles, wake up!”

He wakes up in the middle of a panic attack. Fear crushing him as he desperately gasps for air. His vision is blurred, but he knows he’s no longer in that dark forest. Melissa is right next to him, holding him still. He tries to focus on her voice and her soothing hands. As he tries hard to keep his breath steady, he glances over to the window. It’s not night anymore.

He tries to talk, but his words are barely a whisper.

“What?” Melissa asks, “What do you need, Stiles?”

“Do you—“ Stiles tries again, but he can’t. It’s like someone is pressing on his chest and throat. His hands trembling as he tries to reach for something to pull him up. He takes several deep full inhales and exhales.

“Yes, like that. You’re doing great, Stiles,” Melissa murmurs.

Several minutes pass until Stiles is able to lose the grip on his shirt and sink deeper on his pillow to look up at the ceiling. Last night it took him hours to fall asleep and when he finally did, nightmares were right in the corner waiting for him. His mind is too far away from Beacon Hills. Stiles can’t stop thinking about his friends and their safety.

“Do you have any news?” Stiles asks as soon as he feels calmer.

“It’s still too early, Stiles. We just turned on the lights.”

“How early?”

“Almost 7AM,” Melissa tells him, while pulling the sheets up to his neck. “You should sleep a bit more. I’ll wake you up for breakfast.”

“It’s morning though,” Stiles says apathetically while looking out the window. Melissa frowns, waiting for him to continue. It takes him a while. “Do you think they’re back?”

“Back? Back home?” She asks him. Stiles swallows and nods slowly.

“No. Stiles, the last time I talked to Scott it was 1AM and they were driving to the woods. They had to wait until late, because of the police.”

Stiles is still looking outside the window. He doesn’t miss the deep sigh that Melissa lets out.

“They must be resting now. I’m sure they will come back soon.”

She holds his hand and waits for him to meet her eyes. Melissa gives him a reassuring smile.

“Try to rest some more. I’ll be back later with breakfast.”

Stiles closes his eyes, but doesn’t sleep.

***

After breakfast, Melissa came into his room with a surprise. The doctor agreed to let Allison visit him during the morning. A privilege that was only meant for close family members. He had no news from his father, but Melissa promised to give him a call before lunch. Sadly, neither Allison had news from their friends.

“Look what I brought with me!” Allison cheers and shows him a...

“A notebook?” Stiles frowns.

“Hmm, hmm, we’re planning something special today.”

Stiles ponders while Allison takes a pen out of her purse and opens the notebook. She draws a few lines and then stops to look at him.

“So, who are we going to invite?”

Stiles looks at her surprised. “I’m sorry, but I’m still a bit lost here. What are we planning? And what is this about invites?”

She stares at him for a while. “Are you serious?” Allison asks perplexed.

Stiles shrugs because he has no clue about what she’s plotting.

Allison looks surprised and then somehow annoyed, “What happens next month?”

“I— give me a break. I’ve been here for so long, you can’t blame me for not keeping up with the calendar,” he says, but Allison just forces her stare. He rolls his eyes and tries again. “April’s fools? Easter? My bir—“ he freezes. When he turns to look back at Allison, she has a wide smile stamped on her face.

“No, we’re not planning my birthday,” Stiles declares.

“Of course we are. You’re turning 18! It’s not open for discussion. Lydia and I talked about throwing you a surprise party, but Scott told us that with everything that happened it would be best to keep it... simple.”

He whines at the mention of Lydia’s name. If she’s involved in this, there’s really no other way around. But thankfully there won’t be a surprise party. Still, with Allison and Lydia, Stiles wonders how much he will have to say about this plan.

Allison starts writing what Stiles assumes is a list of names, “I assume you want to invite the whole pack. Anyone else?”

“Define pack.”

“I mean everyone?” She replies unsure.

“Ok,” Stiles sighs deeply, “Also add Derek, Erica—“

“I already did,” she shows him the notebook. Everyone’s there.

Stiles jerks his head at her, “Don’t look at me like that, you only said pack. I didn’t know you were including Derek’s too.”

Allison returns the book to her lap and stares at it for a few seconds. She bites her pen nervously and laughs. “You’re right. Force of habit I guess?”

At first, Stiles is not convinced, but then he realizes how weird it feels to think differently. Maybe they can still all be together during special occasions. Maybe they won’t drift apart after all. It’s totally possible, right? Suddenly, the idea of a party doesn’t feel such a pain anymore. Even if it’s just his birthday.

“Add Danny too, but no one else. Just in case something happens and claws are needed,” Stiles says.

“Nothing is going to happen,” Allison tells him at the same time she writes Danny’s name.

Stiles simply snorts. Last year, only Scott knew about his birthday. Everyone was still coping with the Kanima situation and how so many people watched Jackson die in the field. Scott and Allison broke up, Erica and Boyd were missing and Derek and Isaac... well, for a whole month no one even heard about them. But celebrating his birthday with just his dad and Scott was something he always did since his mother’s death. She was the last person to throw him a birthday party. Exactly nine years ago.

“I saw him today by the way. He might pass by later during the afternoon,” Allison says.

“Danny?”

“Yes,” Allison replies with a smile.

“Did he talk to Jackson?” Stiles asks a bit too eager.

“No... I don’t think he did.”

“Allison, you’re biting your lip. What’s wrong?”

“What?! No. I’m—“

“You are. And you never do it unless you’re nervous.”

Allison stays silent, playing with the pen in her fingers. Stiles doesn’t take his eyes off her.

“Please,” he begs, “if you know something, anything... Just tell me. Please, Allison.”

She looks at him sheepish, opens her mouth to say something, but quickly hesitates.

“Allison, please. I’m stuck here, I just want to know,” Stiles pleads again.

“Danny talked with Jackson. They haven’t heard anything from Scott, Isaac, Erica and Derek,” she turns her gaze to the floor and startles again. “I’m so sorry, Stiles. I didn’t know what to tell you, because I don’t know anything either. I talked with my father as soon as I heard. They’re looking everywhere for them, but the forest is much bigger than the preserve and—“. Allison finally meets his eyes and grabs his hand, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you even more.”

Stiles scoffs, “I think I already knew.”

“But— how?”

“Doesn’t matter. When was the last time you talked with one of them?”

Stiles tries to remain calm. It’s a big forest. It was night. They suck at planning, so they probably decided to cover up the whole forest. Stupid werewolves. Stupid, so so stupid.

“Around 10AM,” Allison tells him, “When I was on my way here I called my father and they had just arrived to the forest.”

Stiles runs his hand down his face.

“They’re fine, I’m sure they’re fine,” Stiles doesn’t know if Allison’s words are trying to reassure him or herself. “Four werewolves. Not even Peter would attack them, right?”

“Call them again,” Stiles says.

“But my father said he would—“

“I mean Scott. Try calling him or the others.”

“Stiles, I’ve been trying that since—“

“Just do it. Again. Please, Allison,” he stares at her. “Maybe they’ll answer this time.”

She places the notebook on top of the bed next to his legs, before taking her cell phone out of her purse. Allison takes a moment to glance at the screen, then after dialing the number, her gaze meets Stiles’, and gives him a hopeful smile.

After what it seems like forever, Allison jumps out of her seat. The chair bounces and almost falls to the ground.

“Scott?!”

But her startled expression quickly fades to a confused one.

“Lydia? What—“

Allison stays quiet for a long time. Stiles can’t stop squirming in his bed, gesturing for her to tell her something. Why is Lydia picking up Scott’s phone?!

“Okay,” she says finally with a desperate sigh. “Thanks.”

After hanging up, Allison stares at her phone for a few seconds.

“What happened? Why is Lydia with Scott’s phone?” Stiles asks her, but Allison’s eyes don’t drift away from her phone.

“Allison!” He calls out to her, worried. She finally looks at him with teary eyes. Stiles tries to swallow the lump on his throat.

“They found his phone, but there are no signs of him… or the others,” her voice sounds like it was taken away from her. She’s there, but then she’s not. She’s clearly miles away from this room. Stiles drops his gaze and grips the sheets of the bed. He feels so utterly useless.

“They’re okay,” Allison says a few minutes later, but her expression is still blank, her red cheeks now white as the hospital walls. If Stiles is feeling useless, he can’t imagine how Allison must feel. She could help; he’s the one who can’t do anything at all in this stupid hospital bed.

Time seems to freeze inside the hospital room as silence takes over. But it comes to life again when Allison’s phone rings. They both jerk their heads to look at each other, eyes wide. She’s trembling when she picks up the phone, clearly fearing for the worst.

“Yeah?”

Stiles stares attentively at Allison and doesn’t miss the way she stills. Seconds after her wide eyes are filled with tears and she’s smiling.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says. And Stiles doesn’t have to ask. He knows this is Scott on the other side.

“What happened?” Allison asks.

“Put him on speaker,” Stiles begs.

Allison turns her glance at him and nods with a genuine smile. “I’m here with Stiles. I’m going to put you on speaker, okay?”

Allison stands up and closes the door, before placing the phone on the bed.

“Scott?” Stiles asks.

“Hey, buddy,” Scott greets him. His voice is so wrecked and so far gone, like he’s been running for miles and miles without stopping.

“What the hell happened? Are you okay? Where are the others?” Once the questions flow inside his mind, Stiles can’t stop.

“I honestly don’t know,” he pauses to breath in deeply. “We were all running, but then I was all alone. It was— Chris says we were affected by wolfsbane.”

Both him and Allison question him at the same time, “Wolfsbane?!”

“Yes, our symptoms seem to indicate that,” Scott replies.

Stiles and Allison change looks before Scott continues, “Isaac doesn’t know more than I do either. When I found him, he was even more disorientated. But shortly after, I think both of us fainted.”

“Wait,” Stiles says with a frown, “it’s just you and Isaac?! Where are Derek and Erica?” Stiles asks frantic with worry.

“We don’t know,” Scott says with a heavy sigh on the other side, “Jackson and Boyd are searching for them.”

Stiles zones out. The possibility of something happening to Derek and Erica… He doesn’t want to think about it. They’re okay, just like Isaac and Scott. They’re probably lying somewhere in that forest. He’s going to yell at Derek so much when he sees him again. Stiles startles when Allison puts her hand on his.

“Tell us when you find them,” she tells Scott.

“I will. Don’t worry I’m sure they’re—“

“Scott?” Allison asks.

Stiles leans down to look at the phone. The call is still on. “Scott, what happened?”

“It’s Erica,” Scott says, both Allison and Stiles flinch. “Boyd is carrying her, I don’t know if she’s—“

No, Stiles thinks. Not Erica, it can’t be.

“Scott,” Stiles pleads, “please tell us what’s happening?”

“She’s unconscious, but she’s alive,” they hear Boyd saying.

“She’s fine. She’s just—“

“We heard,” Stiles interrupts Scott. “What about Derek?”

“Anyone seen Derek?” Scott asks at whoever is on the other side. Allison is still holding Stiles’ hand as they’re waiting for a reply. Stiles is barely breathing, while he tries to pick up any sound from the phone. Anything that tells him that Derek is okay too. He’s okay.

“That’s definitely Derek’s,” they hear Scott say.

“What is?” Stiles practically jumps in the bed, as if he could be swallowed down by the phone.

“It’s a— this is normal. We were running and—“

“Scott,” Stiles warns him, “what did you find from Derek?”

“A piece of cloth. Most likely from his shirt. There’s— there’s blood, but—“

“I’m going to kill him,” Stiles leans down on the bed, letting his arms fly to the sides. He doesn’t even flinch at the pain that strikes his chest. Fear and despair taking over his physical pain. He can feel Allison’s gaze on him.

“Can’t you smell him? He can’t be far, right?” Allison asks.

“I— I don’t know,” Scott confesses. “We’ll keep looking,” he adds after a pause.

“Scott, when you find him—“ Stiles if fuming. He doesn’t know if it’s anger or panic or both. “Just find him,” he finally says.

“We will, don’t worry,” Scott tells him and Stiles actually laughs. Allison side-glances at him, the laugh probably made him sound crazy. “Allison,” Scott calls her out.

“Yeah?” She flutters in her seat and picks up the phone with both hands, like she’s holding a treasure. Stiles looks at her with fondness. It’s clear like water that they love each other and yet… Why are their lives so screwed up?

“I—,” Scott pauses briefly, “remember what I asked?”

Allison smiles, the most genuine of smiles since Scott called them. “Don’t worry.”

Seconds later, Scott hangs up and the room is silent again.

“What was that?” Stiles asks, mostly because he needs a distraction.

“Nothing,” Allison prompts, “he’s just worried.”

Well, Scott McCall does worry about a lot of things. Mostly about others; mostly about Allison. Stiles doesn’t want to pry, but he sure hopes that this means they will leave their problems aside when Scott comes back. He wishes that for both of them. He likes Allison a lot and Scott is miserable without her. If his best friend’s happiness means he needs to give up on some of their bro time, then so be it. He has more friends, more—

Why does everything in his mind turns into the direction of Derek Hale? Why can’t he just leave him alone? Why can’t he just stay in Beacon Hills forever? Why can’t he just stay out of trouble? Be safe? Please be safe, that was the last thing he said to him. And if Derek doesn’t want to see him shout at him, he better keep that in mind wherever he is now.

“Do you want to call your dad?” Allison asks him.

He looks at the ceiling and thinks about it for a while. Maybe he should tell his father about Derek. Get more people out there looking for him. But then how would they explain their presence in Sacramento? No, he can’t do that.

He shouldn’t call him just to say hello either. His father would most certainly feel guilty about being away. Melissa told him she would call him. That’s the best way to show that everything is fine and normal. Stiles doesn’t want to worry his father anymore than he already did.

“No, I think it’s best to wait for Melissa to do it.”

Allison nods slowly.

“We could watch some TV if you want to? There’s still some time until lunch.” Allison proposes. Stiles adjusts himself on the bed and picks up the remote. He settles on a news channel and Allison doesn’t dare to question him.

***

Minutes pass and the news become even more worthless. It doesn’t stop Stiles’ mind and heart though, running a mile a second. There’s no clock in the room, he doesn’t have his watch either, but the news channel has the time on the right bottom corner. Each time a minute passes, Stiles flinches. His gaze takes turns between the TV and Allison’s phone. He remembers the dreams he had during the night. Especially the last one with the wolf howling for help. Stiles doesn’t believe in these things, but now he knows the wolf must be Derek. What if Derek needs help? How many times has Stiles saved him now? What if Derek needs him?! And he’s here. He’s so far away and so helpless. Stiles can’t breathe; he tries to get some air, clutches his shirt and closes his eyes firmly. He can’t take it anymore.

It happens in a second. One moment he’s quiet without alarming Allison, the next he’s pushing the sheets out of him and trying to sit on the bed. Allison jumps out of her seat, her arms extended for Stiles, but without touching him.

“What’s wrong, Stiles?” She asks him confused. “Do you need help? I can call—“

“I need to go,” he simply says as he looks around. The serum attached to his hand. He thinks about the best way to take it out. It’s going to hurt if he pulls too quickly, so he—

“Are you insane?! You can’t leave!”

Allison is now holding him, trying to push him back to the bed. A déjà vu flashes through his mind. Derek. And just like that, he slaps her arm away. She freezes at the gesture.

“I have to — I can’t— Allison I can’t stay. What if—“

“He’s not alone Stiles, not anymore,” she reminds him.

“I know, but—“

“I’m not letting you leave that bed.”

Stiles refuses to look at her anymore. If he does, he might give in. He can’t.

“Please, Allison.”

“No,” she simply tells him.

The following seconds seem to drag on forever. Stiles clenches his fists.

“You don’t understand. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t breathe. I think I even dreamt about this, which is crazy. I know how crazy that sounds, but I did. And he’s out there, God knows where. Alone. He’s alone. And he’s probably thinking no one is looking out for him. Because that’s Derek. That’s who Derek is. I can’t let him think like that. I can’t— I have to find him and tell him— I have to tell him this. He’s not alone and I will—“ Stiles sucks in a huge breath. He doesn’t understand why his vision is so blurry, until he scratches his eyes and feels the tears.

Allison kneels in front of him, both of her hands on his knees. Stiles doesn’t want to meet her eyes, she must think he’s crazy. And he is. He’s so close to being crazy.

“Derek is strong,” she begins, “and he knows he has a pack now. A strong pack. They’re looking for him; they won’t rest until they find him, Stiles.”

“I know, I know,” he shuts his eyes, “I don’t even know why I’m crying. I—“

Words form in his mind, but they don’t come out. There’s not enough air in the room. Tears keep falling down his face and he doesn’t understand why he can’t just stop.

“I can’t lose him,” he whispers. He thinks that Allison didn’t even hear it, because she remains silent. Stiles slowly moves his head up and is surprised with what he finds.

Allison’s brown eyes are glittering and she’s smiling, like he just complimented her dress. Her lips curled like she just figured it all out. When she talks, her voice is soft and calm, but it strikes Stiles like an arrow.

“He’s the one you’re in love with,” it’s not a question.

His body starts shaking, as he can’t keep himself together any longer. He slowly nods his head and struggles to breathe. He’s not just scared about Derek being missing; he’s scared about what he’s feeling because of it. It doesn’t make sense to him at how much he needs Derek to be okay; to be alive and to be here. Stiles can see the truth in Allison’s words. And if possible, it leaves him even more terrified.

Her arms wrap around him and Stiles lets his head fall on her shoulder. He keeps crying, but Allison’s soothing hands on his back are helping him to breathe again. She’s saying something, but Stiles’ own cries cover his ears.

After what it seems like forever, he can finally listen to what Allison keeps saying:

“Everything will be okay.” 

Chapter Text

The morning comes, but it never reaches Derek.  Long agonizing hours pass as the daylight outside the well becomes stronger behind the shadow of Peter. He sits by the well and talks the whole time. He mentions their family, like he and Derek are socializing over dinner. Stories of his parents long before Derek was even born and about Laura from when Derek was just a baby. His body shivers with a burning sensation in his throat. Derek feels like throwing up with each word.

Desperately, Derek has been trying to ignore Peter and think of a way to escape this hell. The iron bars have been within reach since an hour ago, while his feet are way beyond the ground of the well. But right now, the water is already above his neck; his face only a few inches from the irons bars. He’s tired and doesn’t know how long he can last. Minutes maybe.

The memory of the last time he was like this seems so distant now. It’s ridiculous to think about it now, but he does. He thinks about Stiles and how he was so devotedly trying to save him from drowning. Derek lets out a relieved sigh as he thinks about Stiles in the hospital. He doesn’t know what he would do if Stiles had come with them. Peter’s threats are still fresh in his mind. The thought about Peter turning Stiles or even so as much as touching him makes his blood rush through his veins.

Sometimes he glances up to see Peter talking and talking. Sentences like, “Drowning is much better than burning” manage to get his full attention.

“You should thank me for such a peaceful death,” Peter teases.

Derek is starting to choke in the musky water. Every time it slips into his mouth, he tilts his head up to try and delay the inevitable as the tip of his nose touches the iron bars.

He tried to break free, thinking that even if Peter lunched forward to stop him it would always be better to die while fighting. But he’s weak and the bars are too thick and strongly place in parallels. The rusty metal is almost glued to the bricks that circle the well, probably because of how long they’ve without use.

As he relaxes his grip on the rusty bars, Derek knows he has given up. In a few minutes the water will cover his head and pass through the bars. Peter must sense the change as he stands up and claps the dust away from his hands.

“This was good, Derek. We should do this again some other time… other life perhaps?”

Derek doesn’t even have the strength to look up at him. He doesn’t want to either. Peter can’t be the last thing he sees. His next words are muffled as his ears are completely covered in water.

Resistance is futile. He closes his eyes and lets go.

The sound of the water coming in is now clearer than before. It never comes to a stop; it just keeps flowing and flowing. His throat burns with trapped air and his ears keep pounding. Screaming is not an option anymore, even though he’s scared and his head feels like it’s going to explode at any second. His heart beats fast against his chest as he keeps going under. He hits with his legs on the walls while he’s floating, but he keeps his arms still. He’s tired. He’s so tired. All hope is gone.

With his eyes closed, he dreams about a howl that echoes in his ears, but it’s still too far away. Then there’s also the sound of growls and snarls; the sound of wolves. He’s been close to death before, many, many times, but nothing as final as this. It’s a good sound, a sound of a fight. Even though, he’s not fighting.

It doesn’t feel like he’s sinking anymore, but the pressure on his lungs makes his consciousness slowly slip away from him. His whole life dimming all around him. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

Someone calls out his name, repeatedly. Maybe this is what happens when you’re dying. You start listening to the things you want the most. Maybe if he wishes harder, Stiles can pull him out of the water once more. Derek concentrates on that night; the night that made him trust in someone again after so long. He wishes it so hard that he actually feels his arms being pulled out. His head is out of the water, but there’s still no air filling his lungs. He can feel the steady and strong arms carrying him, the cold wind brushing against his wet cheeks. But Derek doesn’t open his eyes, afraid that he will stop dreaming.

The voices around him are muffled, which makes sense because he’s drowning. His name keeps being called by a desperate voice; much closer now. He’s dropped on the solid wet ground, where he can almost smell the leaves and grass around him. Maybe he will wake up at the forest. He doesn’t expect to find his family there, but this is his dream and he can still wish for it.

There’s a strong pressure on his lungs; a steady rhythm that mixes with his name being called repeatedly. Voices that he recognizes, but still seem so far away. Where are they?

As he starts drifting away from his dream, Derek picks up another scent, the very intense and fresh smell of blood. It’s enough to make him feel nauseous and to wake him.

When he tries to open his eyes, drops of cold water blind him, followed by the sudden daylight that burns his eyes. His name keeps being shouted by the same voices. If only they would stop calling him. Everything is making him feel dizzy and sick. He coughs non-stop while impossible amounts of water come out of his lungs. There are firm hands holding his back, trying to help him; hands that don’t leave him. And when he finally succeeds to open his eyes, it’s still hard to recognize the blurred shadows around him. But there they are.

“Derek!” Scott calls him, frantic; he’s the one holding his back. Isaac is right next to him and in front of Derek is the rest of his pack, looking at him worriedly.

“Is he awake?” Chris comes into his line of sight, followed by Lydia who’s talking on her phone. She mumbles something that he can’t understand. He can still hear the water rushing inside his ears.

Derek slowly turns his head to the side, where the smell of blood is stronger. Peter lies flat on the ground; still breathing, still alive. He panics before glancing up. Only then he sees that Chris is firmly pointing a gun at Peter. Though, that’s not the only thing that makes him scared.

Scott places a strong hand on his shoulder, “You’re okay.”

Isaac and Scott help him to get up. His legs are aching and shaking, but their grip is strong and it definitely makes him feel safer than he’s been in weeks. His betas surround Peter’s body. Both Boyd and Jackson with their claws out, while Erica is further on the back with her eyes fixed on Derek.

Only when he’s standing next to Chris, he can see how damaged his uncle is. His clothes are ripped apart with bloodstains everywhere. There’s at least three bullets burning his flesh and his face is marked with the claws from one of them. It wasn’t a dream, Derek thinks.

He takes a closer look at the people around him. Lydia and Chris with no damage whatsoever and even the others are already healed, with just some shredded clothes. Peter didn’t stand a chance against such a large number of wolves and a hunter with wolfsbane bullets.

When he glances back at Scott, their eyes lock for a brief moment. Derek wants to give him this. Scott is much older now, he can— he can definitely do it now. They’re both Peter’s prey; both of their lives changed drastically because of the insatiable desire of revenge. But in those brown eyes there’s no desire to take a life to become an alpha. Scott’s hand stays on his back while he nods in agreement. It’s his choice; his choice to keep Derek as his alpha. And as his alpha Derek must be the one do this. He’s still panting, but he needs to see the end of this. Now.

As Derek kneels down next to Peter, it feels like turning back time when his flesh was burned out, his eyes were wide opened and he kept smiling and challenging him. Not this time. The image is eluding him to think that this was all just a nightmare. Peter is gasping for air, there’s blood in his mouth and his eyes are closed.

Derek looks at him for an insanely long amount of time, he shuts his eyes and thinks about everything that happened that night. The way his pack was in danger, the threats he heard, the insanity of his uncle and unstoppable feeling of revenge that was always there at the surface. And then there’s Laura. The memory of her smile could now belong to a stranger. He doesn’t remember her anymore. There’s no forgiveness, he knows. He opens his eyes and raises his arm up in the air against the sky. Claws come out in a split second and that’s when Peter finally opens his eyes. Red eyes not from an alpha, but from someone who only sees blood in his darkest dreams.

For the second time, Derek slashes his uncle’s throat.

He feels numb and stumbles back as he gets up. Derek almost falls as he steps on the wheel used to trigger the water inside the well, but Isaac and Boyd are there to support him. His glance falls down to the well. The water is now way above the bars and still bustling inside. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

The nightmare is over. At least this one is. It will hunt him down at night, but it’s not real anymore. Soon his clothes will be dry and he will be back to his forest.

When he opens his eyes back, Lydia is standing right in front of him with a shy smile. She reaches out her arm, cell phone still in her hand. And he just knows. He knows who’s on the other side.

Isaac releases the grip on his right arm, but keeps a steady hand on his back as Derek reaches for the phone. His arm is still feeling like jelly, but his will is stronger. Lydia doesn’t wait for him to grab it; instead, she places it on his hand and gives him a nod.

They’re all looking at him and suddenly he feels nervous. He didn’t say a word since he came out of the water. His voice is probably a wreck and he doesn’t want to send panic waves over the phone. It’s not worth it. Everything that happened it’s not worth it.

Though, his raspy breath is easily detectable on the other side as he raises the phone to his face.

“I hate you,” Stiles simply says.

“Stiles!” he hears Allison squeal on the background.

Any other person would take it wrongly, but it only makes Derek laugh. Genuinely laugh, despite the pain and soreness of all his muscles. It should make him feel terrible, but on the other side Stiles is laughing too, between sniffs and insulting names. He cares. He seems to care so much, that it makes him feel hopeful again when everything that happened today made him think otherwise. He feels safe again with his pack beside him. Stiles’ warm laughter is his hope. And he longs to go back.

***

The return to Beacon Hills is quite peaceful compared to the previous events. They have at least six hours ahead of them, where they will stop at least twice to switch drivers. Despite his protests, no one lets Derek drive. Erica sits beside him the entire journey, while Scott is driving his Camaro and Isaac is sitting next to him.

They stop at the first station they see when they reach Redding. Derek catches sight of the beautiful sunset, while the rest sort out who’s going first to the bathroom. They eat mostly in silence, worried eyes always fixed on Derek. Scott and Erica are constantly asking him if he needs something, while the others keep talking about going back home.

Home. He just wants to go home. But where is home? Derek hasn’t known what home is for years. He doesn’t know for how long he’s been wishing to go home, even without knowing where that is.

Erica falls asleep the rest of the trip with her head resting on his shoulder. Jackson is the one driving this time. Scott dozes off while still holding his cell phone.

Even though he’s tired, Derek can’t bring himself to close his eyes. He doesn’t remember the last time he slept, but he knows that if he closes his eyes he will be back at that well. He will see Peter and his red eyes while everyone he cares about screams for help. He tries to clear his mind as the desert road flashes through his eyes with sparkling stars up in the dark sky. Jackson looks at him from time to time, but doesn’t say a word. Derek doesn’t say a word either.

It’s past dinnertime when they finally arrive to Beacon Hills; a place that was once home, but doesn’t feel like it anymore. Sadness embraces him as Derek looks around town and to the people that saved him. This place will never feel like home again. The certainty of it only makes him sad and desperate to run away.

The group gets smaller as they pass by each other’s houses, leaving only Scott, Isaac and Derek at the end. Scott drops them at the train depot and asks twice if Derek is sure that he doesn’t need anything. Scott can’t quite help him right now, so he assures him that he’s okay. He will be. Hopefully one day this nightmare will hurt less.

Isaac sees Scott off, leaving him alone for a couple of minutes. This place doesn’t say anything to him at all. It’s not home; it’s nothing. It’s absolutely nothing. Even when he crawls back inside and sees his stuff, it still feels distant. Like he doesn’t belong and did he ever? Did he ever have his home back when he returned?

The pile of books and papers are still in the same place. Everything is still in the same place, so Derek doesn’t understand why suddenly all feels so different. He picks up a small box next to his books. Inside it, he grabs the only picture he has from Laura. It’s a smudged portrait picture that he cut out of a newspaper, the one that gave away the news about the Hales. It’s not even his Laura; it’s someone else, someone broken and sad. She’s not smiling. How could she? It makes his skin crawl that he can’t really remember her smile anymore. How can he not remember the smile of his own sister? But then, he can’t even properly draw the faces of his parents in his mind either.

He saves the picture in his pocket when he hears Isaac coming down.

“Are you sure you—“

“I’m fine,” he replies. It’s not even a lie. He’s just numb and empty on the inside.

“Okay,” Isaac stays by the door for a while before adding, “I’m going to sleep, but if you need anything at all just tell me.”

Derek shakes his head, “You should. You must rest. It was… a long journey.”

“You should sleep too,” Isaac says before leaving.

“Thanks,” Derek murmurs, but he knows Isaac heard him.

***

This feels more like home, he thinks as he steps into the Hale house. Derek tried to sleep, but after hours of being quiet looking up at the ceiling barely even blinking, he decided it wasn’t really working. So he came to where he always ends up, like he just ran a mile and this is the finishing line. But the view is not pleasant and there’s no rewards or cheering, just ghosts of the past that hunt him day and night wherever he goes and a house that is falling apart. It’s not even a house anymore, but it still calls to him. Calls out his name like he needs to be here, he needs to see and to remember.

Derek goes upstairs and walks to his favorite place in the house. The room of his parents remains surprisingly intact with most of the clothes burned out, but the furniture still together. Derek sits by the window to look at the night sky. He’s invaded with memories of how he used to sneak up to this room almost every night. It wasn’t because he didn’t like the view from his room or the rest of the house, but this place always felt safer with his parents sleeping by the bed. The sound of their heartbeats would always calm him down.

He’s so engaged with his thoughts that he doesn’t hear the footsteps outside the door until it’s too late.

“I had a feeling I would find you here,” Scott says.

Derek lets out a frustrated sigh, “Shouldn’t you be at home sleeping?”

“I should. And so should you,” Scott replies while taking his cell phone out of his pocket, “Isaac was worried when he didn’t see you and texted me.”

A guilty feeling crosses his mind when he remembers that he didn’t care to leave a note.

“I’m fine,” his voice trails off. Derek turns his gaze back to the window and says, “You and Isaac don’t need to worry. I— I guess I just needed some space.”

Scott murmurs in agreement and steps closer.

“Where is Isaac?” Derek asks when Scott reaches him.

“I told him to stay at the train depot, in case you came back.”

“And you? Weren’t you sleeping?”

Scott flinches, which makes Derek frown in response and properly look at him.

“I— I was with Allison. She was worried and—“

“You don’t need to explain,” Derek says with a soft smile.

“It’s not what you think. We were just talking, nothing else.”

“Scott,” he lets out a sigh before turning on his sit to face him, “This room was my parents’,” he starts and continues despite how Scott’s heart stutters with the words, “The room next door was Laura’s. I came here tonight to try and remember them... But I can’t,” his gaze drops to the burned floor, “I can’t because everything happened too fast. There was… no time for goodbyes,” Derek swallows the lump in his throat, “In a second your whole life can fall right in front of you and there’s nothing you can do.”

When he glances up at Scott again, he’s shifting uncomfortably but still looking at Derek with those genuine brown eyes.

“If you love someone… you should tell them, Scott. You need to tell them even if you’re scared about what might happen next. You need to tell them before your whole world burns to the ground. You need to tell them in their eyes, loud and clear, because they deserve to know. They deserve to know that you love them.”

They stay there looking at each other for a moment, while the moonlight casts weird shadows around them.

“I— I’m sorry for…” Scott says while he’s looking around the room, “I hope to never know how that feels,” he ends up saying.

“I hope so too,” Derek admits. “You love Allison, you should tell her that.”

Scott brings a hand to his face, “I know, it’s just— Sometimes I’m about to tell her, but then I— I don’t know—, “ He stops for a while and then he starts laughing.

“What?”

“It’s just… funny.”

Derek looks at him with an uncertain expression.

“Like a year ago you were trying to make me break up with her and now… I never thought I would be here talking with you about… this sort of stuff.”

He smiles fondly at Scott, who grew up to be a lot more like a brother than he thought.

“If it helps,” Derek stands up, “I don’t really follow what I preach.”

Scott looks at him baffled and only reacts when Derek is already at the door.

“I know!” He scoffs. “You should work on that.”

They’re standing by the porch, when Scott suddenly comes to a stop and turns to look at him.

“You and Isaac could stay at my house for a few days. I mean, there’s really no reason to stay at the train depot any longer, right? My mom would be totally cool about it. We have a guest room and a comfortable couch, so— yeah, you should.”

Derek waits for Scott to stop talking and fidgeting, before placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks,” he says. “Isaac should go. He needs a home. I— I’ll sort it out, don’t worry.”

“But Derek, really you—“

“Thank you for tonight too,” Derek promptly interrupts him. “Actually, thank you for everything today.”

Scott nods, “You would have done the same too.”

Derek nods back and releases the hold from him.

***

Scott doesn’t convince him to accept his invitation, but Scott together with Isaac manages to corner Derek with arguments that he can’t fight back.

Not surprisingly those arguments are dropped once they get to Scott’s couch at dawn. He makes them sandwiches and puts on a DVD since nothing interesting was playing at that hour. Isaac tries to hide his excitement and Derek wonders for how long Isaac hasn’t even watched TV. And it’s with the voices of Scott and Isaac chatting about the movie, that Derek finally scares his ghosts away and falls asleep.

***

Derek wakes up with the sun burning his eyes and the smell of coffee floating in the air. Only when he sits up straighter he notices the blanket on top of him. Cozy and warm and smelling like home. Safe. He jerks his head when he hears the voices and laughs coming from the kitchen.

“He woke up,” he hears Scott say just before Derek enters the kitchen.

“Morning, Derek,” Melissa greets him with a smile.

“Morning,” he replies.

Twenty-four hours ago he had his life hanging by a thread and now he’s sitting in a table carefully arranged for four people. There’s homemade coffee, a bottle of milk and a big jar with orange juice. Isaac is delightfully eating a toast with strawberry jam, while Melissa finishes a toast with butter.

When he glances back at Scott, he’s smirking and hands him the plate with hot toast. Derek is still in a daze when he accepts the plate. He kicks Scott under the table and mutters a “Thank you” before smiling.

It’s not home, but it’s a start.

Chapter Text

***

“Hey, son, ready to go?”

“So, so ready!”

“He’s been asking for you all morning,” Melissa says as she enters the room.

“Sorry, kid, I had some paperwork to do at the station.”

“It’s fine, totally fine. Completely fine as long as we leave like this very instant,” Stiles leaps from the bed with a wide smile, completely brushing off the soft pain still lingering on his chest. They took some of his stitches out yesterday, leaving only five that he will take off next week if it keeps healing well.

“You’ll probably going to need this,” his father gives him a bag with clothes. Oh my God, he’s going to wear his clothes again. After so long, that alone makes him extremely happy. “I’m going to talk to your doctor while you get ready.”

Stiles grunts, “Okay, okay, hurry up!”

When his dad turns, Scott sprints inside his room forcing his dad and Melissa to stumble back.

“For how many years more am I going to have to tell you that you can’t run in the hospital?” Melissa gives him a knock in the head and his dad rolls his eyes.

“Sorry,” he manages, looking sheepish. When both parents leave and Scott turns his glance at him, Stiles can’t help to smile to a point where his face starts to hurt. He’s finally going home.

“You’re going home!”

“I know, dude! Now please, shut that door so I can get dressed,” Stiles starts taking his hospital gown off even before hearing the click of the door. “You have no idea how good it feels to step into your own clothes after so long,” he says when Scott practically jumps to sit on the bed.

“I think I can imagine,” Scott chuckles.

Stiles abruptly stops dressing when he notices how Scott seems… too happy.

“Okay, you’re creeping me out. Are you falling for me?”

Scott doesn’t stop smiling, but he still kicks him on the knee.

“Ouch! Do you want me stay here longer?”

Scott rolls his eyes without dropping his goofy smile.

“No, seriously, shoot. What happened?” Stiles asks him at the same time as he resumes his dressing. It’s embarrassing how he actually still winces while raising up his arms to put his shirt on.

“I have to tell you something,” Scott pauses, “but you can’t tell anyone!”

“Oh boy.”

“Stiles, this is serious. You really can’t tell anyone!”

“No problem, I— ouch!”

“You want help?”

“What? Oh. No, I can do this. Go on, tell me.”

“Allison and I are back together,” Scott’s entire face beams.

Of course. What Scott doesn’t know is that Stiles already knew about it since yesterday. The funny part is how Allison begged him to not tell anyone either.

“I’m happy for you. For both of you. It was about time!”

“Yeah, well, I think I— we needed some space. But I love her and I had to tell her, because what if something happens, right?”

Stiles snorts, “I think Allison already knew that.”

“But it’s different when you say it. It changes when you say it out loud. I guess.”

“What have you done to Scott McCall?” Stiles asks with a sneaker in each hand. “Move over,” he says before sitting on the bed next to his friend.

Scott shrugs, “After what happened with Peter, I think everything came into perspective. Derek helped me see that we were both just losing time. Our time and—“

“What? Derek? Derek Hale helped you?” Stiles looks at him incredulously. “No wait, you let Derek help you? My brain is still deciding on what sounds weirder.”

Scott shrugs, “He was pretty cool.”

“Sounds like you’re living the perfect life. You and Allison are back, and you’re finally having some brotherly time with Derek. This is when you break up with me, right?”

Scott kicks him on the shoulder lightly, making Stiles drop one of his sneakers.

“Very funny,” Stiles says sarcastically, but Scott is already jumping out of the bed to catch it.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily.” And Stiles doesn’t need to be a werewolf to know that Scott is telling him the truth. He wishes he could be honest with Scott too. The secret is boiling on the tip of his tongue; ready to say it out loud to the person he always tells everything. Yet, he doesn’t. It scares him to think about the consequences, because this is not about another Lydia. It surprisingly feels more serious than any Lydia he’s come across. Which is scary. But he also knows that Scott won’t be able to be partial about it. Actually, things might even get awkward after it. Why bring one more problem to the table when some wounds are not even healed yet?

If he’s being honest, it’s surprising how things are getting back to normal in a space of a week. A lot of things happened since they all came back from Sacramento.

***

The first person he saw after the storm was Scott, who practically dashed into his room and closed the door in the same second.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“I have no time to explain. Derek and Isaac are on their way here. You must not ask anything about what happened, okay?”

“What?! But why?”

“Just trust me. I’ll tell you everything when we’re both alone.”

“But—“

“They’re coming.”

At the time, Stiles didn’t get it at all. He wanted to ask a million things, so many that he didn’t know where to start. But at night he understood perfectly once Scott told him what happened between Derek and Peter. It wasn’t fair. Stiles never liked Peter, but he didn’t think that he would be capable of doing something so horrible to his own nephew. With each word that came from Scott, it was like listening to a horror story. A story that not even Scott knew well. Derek never talked about it and all of them were sensible enough to not ask any questions. Scott was just thankful that he got there in time to save Derek. And so was Stiles.

But even before his chat with Scott, he knew that Derek had been in danger. They all were, but when he saw Derek his heart launched like a rocket. In a room with three werewolves, there was nothing much he could do to disguise his heart beating.

“Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re all alive!”

There was a battle going on inside his mind. Stop beating so fast, stop, he’s alive, he’s okay, he’s here, he’s back. They all smiled at him, but Scott kept staring at him with a funny look that Stiles managed to translate “Stop being so obvious, Stiles,” but Scott was miles away of knowing the real reason why his heart kept beating like a mouse.

“How are you feeling?”

Once Derek asked about him, he decided it was best to babble. Talk was something that he could definitely do. He told them about how physiotherapy was helping him; how Melissa would sometimes give him treats, because hospital food sucks; how Sarah was really nice and even brought him some comics yesterday; how Allison was planning his birthday with Lydia and his worries about that; how he actually liked to watch Oprah in the morning, making them all laugh about it; about his talk with his father on the phone before lunch, which was the only time he mentioned something related to Sacramento; and that Dr. Smith told him today he was confident that Stiles would be leaving the hospital soon. Stiles decided he had chattered enough when Isaac and Scott shifted on their seats.

Scott started talking about how Isaac and Derek slept at his place, which was definitely a subject of major interest to Stiles. Isaac sounded really excited about the movie they watched and Stiles didn’t miss how Derek was smiling fondly at his beta. But something wasn’t right about Derek. Stiles didn’t know what it was, but he seemed far away from that room. He wanted to reach him, touch him; tell him that he was glad that he was here, that he was glad that he was alive, that everything was going to be okay. But he didn’t. He kept listening to Scott and Isaac talk, casting from time to time some side-glances in Derek’s direction. His chest hurt, not because of his stitches, but how Derek seemed so distant. I can’t tell him, he realized.

The rest of the week felt like an eternity. His father came back and took some days off. Stiles was also allowed more visitors inside his room and, although this would normally cheer him up, sometimes he felt like being alone with just one person.

Allison came by earlier from school once and he was relieved to finally be able to assure her that he was not crazy. It was just because of what was happening, the heat of the moment. Stiles apologized and tried to explain, always avoiding the real subject, but Allison… Well, Allison is smart.

“Don’t worry. I would never tell him or anyone. That’s your secret to tell.”

She is also a good friend.

“Are you going to tell him?” She finally asked him.

“No,” he snorted, “How can I?”

“Stiles…”

“No, really, why would I even ruin what we have now because of a crush?”

“A crush,” she mocked him.

“Okay, maybe it’s starting to feel more than a crush, but when he comes to visit… I’m always scared that he will just walk away.”

“Derek wouldn’t—“

“He would. He would definitely walk away.”

This was the only time he was alone with anyone; except for the times his father would come to visit him during school time. Everyone would visit Stiles after school, sometimes with too much junk food that Melissa had to confiscate. But it felt good to have his room filled with laughs and stories about the Coach and the evil Mr. Harris. Funny enough, all the subjects were as normal as they can be.

Not everything about Derek made him sad and heartbroken. It was good to see him smile and joke about his betas. One day, he and Isaac came with a big announcement. They both had started looking for a place to live. Not some junky warehouse or old ruins. They were talking about an actual house to live, where they could also gather the rest of the pack or just as a shelter. Stiles was thrilled with the idea and Isaac couldn’t hide his excitement. Once they found a house, Stiles could practically feel the sparks coming from Isaac’s eyes while he was describing every single detail. Derek couldn’t take his eyes from Isaac. He was clearly happy and at peace. Finally, Stiles thought. You deserve it, he wanted to say. But the words stayed with him.

Stiles didn’t know if anyone asked about the Hale house. He was dying to ask about it, but he never did. He always thought that Derek would want the territory back and possibly rebuild the house. It looked big enough for everyone. Maybe he could ask Derek once they were alone, but that never happened. Derek would still visit him with the rest of his friends, but not as often as before he found the house. Stiles should be happy that both Derek and Isaac spared some time visit him. They did it every day, but with Isaac at school during the day, obviously there wasn’t much time for him. But that was not what made him sad. It made him sad to know that everyone was participating on this move, except him. The room and the bed felt more like a prison each time someone would tell a story about the move.

Faking smiles was not an issue for him, but the highlight of his day was definitely to see Derek. He looked good, relaxed, and happy. Stiles thought about how this was probably the first time Derek was going to have a house since… Well, he probably lived somewhere with his sister. Stiles had no idea. It made him think about how little he actually knew about Derek’s past, even when the news about the fire was still so present in his mind. It was hard to say what was making Derek happy, if the house itself; the pack working together just for fun; or the idea of giving a safe place to Isaac.

At the end of the week, Stiles decided that he would not let his feelings for Derek ruin this. He was content with how things were now. For someone who spent years crushing over Lydia Martin, this was actually an improvement. He would be able to handle an emotional werewolf for God knows how long.

***

Stiles stops by the doorstep when they get home, where you can still see dry blood on the floor. He takes note to try and clean that up as soon as possible.

Scott has lunch with him and his father, who lets them play games and watch movies all afternoon. But everything ignites once Scott leaves before dinner.

He’s actually tired and full from all the junk food he ate with Scott, but his father objects and brings him soup so he can take his meds. But even when Stiles reluctantly finishes his soup, his dad doesn’t leave. He sits by the bed and waits, weary eyes always fixed on Stiles, who’s already comfortably under the covers.

“We have to talk,” there’s an awkward pause that lingers around the room. “About what happened to you.”

There’s nothing he can do more to delay this. It’s come to a point where he doesn’t even have more strength to lie. He owes this to his father, but he also owes as much to his friends. Stiles shifts in the bed and sits with his legs sprawled next to his father.

“I understand,” he tells his father without averting his eyes. “But I’ll have to ask you to wait for tomorrow.”

“What? Stiles, no. You’re going to tell me what the hell happened to you. Right now.”

Stiles sighs, “I can’t, dad.”

“Stiles,” his father warns him.

“Just listen, okay?”

“I’m listening.”

“I need Scott here for this,” he pauses, “and Derek.”

“Why?”

“I just— it’s for the best, believe me. I promise that I— we, we’ll tell you what happened.”

“Well, I know that Derek was the one who brought you, but Scott? Why do you need Scott here? What are you hiding from me, Stiles? I can’t— Jesus, I don’t know what to think anymore.”

It hurts. It hurts so much to see that painful expression stamped on his father’s face.

“Dad…”

“Don’t. I’m sick and tired of this. I don’t know what you’re doing with your life. And I don’t even want to ask how you and Scott got suddenly so friendly with two former criminal suspects—“

“Dad, they were proven innocent. That’s not fair…”

“Not fair? Not fair, Stiles?! Tell me what’s fair about waiting hours to know if you’re going to live or die. Tell me!”

“I— I’m sorry…” his voice so low that even he couldn’t hear it.

His father’s face is flushed red. Stiles thinks his father is about to break, but he holds. A heavy sigh comes out from him as he takes both hands to his face. It’s visible how much this frustrates him.

“You have one day,” he finally says. Stiles nods in consent.

“I swear to God, Stiles, if you— I don’t even know what I will do, but your life will change drastically as long as you live under my roof.”

“I promise, dad. I’ll text Scott and tomorrow—“

“I don’t care who you call.”

And just like that his father storms out of the room without even taking the tray with him, the sound of the door slamming making Stiles jump along with his heart. He’s the worst. Tears fall down his face as he curls himself inside the sheets, as if he could hide there from the rest of the world. The tears don’t stop even when he’s texting Scott. Stiles can hear his father downstairs from time to time and hopes that he’s not drinking.

When his phone lights up with a message, Stiles doesn’t even move to read it. At the same time, he hears his father down the hall and his bedroom door close. He should get up to wash the dry tears from his face, but he doesn’t bother. Tomorrow is another day and maybe this nightmare will be over too.

Stiles is not even close to fall asleep, when he hears a small thud by the window.

He sighs and whispers, “Scott, not now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

But Scott knocks again and Stiles just kicks his sheets in frustration. He moves the curtains and actually stumbles back when he sees Derek by the window. Stiles just stares at him for a while until Derek points to the lock.

“Shit,” he mutters, “Sorry.”

It takes him a moment to finally open the window, because of how much his fingers are shaking. He wants to curse at how stupid he looks right now, for no reason at all.

“Is something wrong?” Derek asks him.

“No? I should be the one to ask you that. I mean, it wouldn’t surprise me if hell broke loose again and you—”

“You were crying.”

“Wh— what? Were you spying on me? Dude, that’s—“

“Your face, Stiles.”

Oh.

“Oh. Yeah, just— give me a second,” he moves away from the window, but stops in the middle to add, “Wait here.”

He storms to the bathroom and— well, he definitely looks like shit. His eyes are red and his face is the same color as the sink with tear marks everywhere. Stiles washes his face roughly, like he’s dirty and ashamed. He is; that much is true.

When he comes back to his room, Derek is already inside, but still too close to the window. The image only makes him want to tell him to stay, to just stay.

“Sorry, I— I’ll just pull these sheets and you can…” he stops to look at Derek, “If you want to of course. I mean, I didn’t even ask you what—“

“Scott texted me,” he says, “About tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I should have texted you too, but I was kind of… I’m sorry,” he scrubs a hand through his hair as he sits on the bed, “I should have asked first… Can I tell him? Can you— Can you come tomorrow?”

“Stiles…” Derek lets a long breath out before sitting next to him. “Of course I’ll come. He should know. Do you have any idea of how you want to tell him?”

“No… I just— I want to finish this. I want to stop lying. So, I guess, the truth. Just the truth will be enough. I hope.”

Derek nods beside him.

“Your life will probably change after tomorrow,” he says, not really looking at Stiles.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll still help you all and— I mean, he can’t really take that away,” he shrugs, “Besides, I’ll be eighteen soon.”

“He’s your father. And you almost died,” Derek tells him and Stiles doesn’t miss how he grits the last words.

“Did I ever thank you?”

“About?”

“Saving me. That night.”

“Did I ever thank you for saving me?”

Stiles snorts, but it stings a little. “Guess not?”

“Well, you did, back at the hospital. But I didn’t.” Derek turns his gaze at him and Stiles is taken aback by the vulnerability of his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” the word buddy doesn’t come out, because somehow his mind tells him that’s wrong. But Stiles can’t suppress the grin that spreads all over his face. The night doesn’t feel too cold anymore.

“Remember when you told me about panic attacks?”

The question takes Stiles by surprise, “Yeah?”

It happened months ago when he and Lydia had been trapped by the alphas inside an old warehouse. Lydia was unconscious and he knew the rest of his friends were out there looking for them, but Stiles couldn’t control his fear. He knew what it was even before it hit him hard. It was his first panic attack since his mother died. He couldn’t break the door, he couldn’t help Lydia, he couldn’t call his friends; he couldn’t do anything! As the air was sucked from his lungs, he panicked even more. He knew the rules so well, yet he couldn’t follow any of the steps. He couldn’t calm down, not even when he embraced Lydia tightly and just stood there trying to breathe. Stiles didn’t even notice Scott and Derek breaking the door. At first he couldn’t even feel Scott’s hands or listen to his voice. He just felt Lydia being taken away from him, which made him feel even more frightened. But they eventually managed to calm him down. The next day, Derek asked him to carefully describe his panic attacks and how they could help him in case it happened again.

“I had one recently,” Derek tells him and Stiles immediately thinks it’s about Peter. Every cell of his body tells him not to ask, but what if this is Derek trying to actually talk to someone?

“Peter?” Stiles asks barely in a whisper, but Derek doesn’t even flinch. He shakes his head and turns his whole body to face Stiles.

“The night you almost died.”

The silence stretches for far too long, both of them quiet and staring at each other. Though, Stiles knows that for Derek the room is not so silent. His heart is beating fast and his breath is sharp and loud. Like words were taken away from him. What does he say to that? It’s the second time today that someone he cares about reminds him that he almost died. And he knows it was only partially his fault, but he can’t help to feel guilty for worrying people. Especially his father and Derek, who have been through so much already in their lives… They don’t need— they shouldn’t have to worry about Stiles.

“I can almost hear your brain,” Derek teases him.

“Oh God,” Stiles grunts taking both of his hands to his face as if he could hide his embarrassment. Stupid werewolves and their stupid senses.

“I don’t blame you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I’m sorry for worrying everyone.”

Derek sighs, “You should. You’re too reckless, Stiles. It’s like you don’t even think before you act. You’re constantly forgetting that you’re human and we’re not. We heal.”

Stiles murmurs in frustration, “I know, but—“

“It doesn’t matter for now. I’m sure that tomorrow will be enough for you,” Derek looks so tired. Probably tired of constantly saving Stiles and his friends. Who could blame him?

“I know it’s late and you should sleep, but…” Derek pauses and his gaze momentarily drifts to the side, his mouth thin like he’s fighting for words and when he glances back at Stiles, his eyes seem lost and defenseless. “I want to talk to you about something. Before tomorrow.”

Unconsciously, Stiles shifts on the bed to sit cross-legged. In a way, he tries to look comfortable and relaxed, the opposite of how Derek looks, but he’s scared of what he’s about to hear. His first thought is that Derek is leaving town, but that wouldn’t make much sense with the new house, right?

“I had plenty of sleep at the hospital. Believe me, this is awesome. I mean, talking with someone at this hour is like getting back to normal.”

Derek smiles softly at him, “I’m glad you’re finally out of the hospital.”

“Me too,” Stiles smiles back. “So, what is it that you want to tell me?”

Despite the many breaks on Derek’s speech, Stiles never says a word. How could he? Nothing could have prepared him for this.

Chapter Text

***

Where to start? How to say it?

Derek rehearsed this moment many times in his mind, but no matter how many he will never feel ready. It’s a scary step to take when his world fell apart the last time he shared his feelings. But this is Stiles, the exception in his life. He knows he shouldn’t even think about Kate; there’s no comparison. There never was. Not even when she said she loved him or the first night they spent together. There was passion and desire. The insatiable feeling of want blinding him from all the rest. The naiveness of his age calling it love. Even after witnessing hell and even after knowing the true side of Kate, he still thought he was in love with her. He suffered just like any other heartbroken teenager. But once he met more people as beautiful as Kate, he realized it wasn’t love after all. The adrenaline and heat he felt with Kate was easily found on other people. People he never met before, people he disposed after one single night. That’s not love; it never was.

During these last few years, he was so focused on fighting that feeling that he never realized how Stiles’ warmth reaches his heart even in the worst days. There’s never the need for pretty fake words with him. Everything just is. When everything is so complicated and exhausting, this feeling is easy and natural. Derek has lost many fights and this is one of them. It’s probably the biggest of them all, but unexpectedly the fall doesn’t hurt as much.

It took him a lot of courage to come here tonight, but his heart has settled on the matter. With death always around the corner, when will he have another chance? This night may be the last time he sees Stiles like this. The boy sitting in front of him is silent with his fingers fidgeting around his ankles, marble brown eyes flickering with the moonlight that enters the room. Derek could stare at those eyes forever. But there’s no such thing as forever. Everything will change tomorrow. But today, tonight, he owes this much to the person who saved and keeps saving him from his darkest thoughts. He doesn’t want to run from this anymore. He’s tired of running.

Derek takes a deep breath, drops his glance to the blue sheets and like a melody that climbs and then falls he puts his feelings into words.

“I never thought I would be returning to Beacon Hills,” he pauses to hear Stiles’ heartbeat, fast and steady, here and alive. “I don’t think my sister wanted to come back either. But being an alpha is not just about power; it’s also about responsibility.” The words remind him too much of his mother and he quickly tries to push those thoughts away. “I was willing to leave after I found her, but then Scott was bitten,” Derek takes a quick look at how Stiles’ fingers instantly freeze with the words. “I’m not sure why I felt that it was my responsibility to help him, but, as an alpha, my sister would have never turned her back on him. So I didn’t.”

“I used Scott’s weaknesses at the time to help me avenge her. Peter…” he stops to look outside the window, the bright moon up in the sky watching them both, “Things could have been gone different if I had left. He would have completed his revenge and probably left town afterwards, but he would have forced Scott to go with him as part of his pack. In the end, it wouldn’t have made much difference to leave or not.”

Derek turns his gaze to Stiles, who barely flinches when their eyes lock.

“You, on the other hand… I’m sure you would have followed Scott anywhere.” He has known for a long time that Stiles will never abandon his best friend. “There were some humans in my family. It’s a common thing, especially if… Well, if one werewolf is dating a human, he usually brings him to meet the pack. But there are also stories of people who can’t handle this life, because of the danger of always being watched by hunters and other packs. They eventually leave, some even move to different cities. To try and forget, I guess.”

He scrubs a hand through his hair, because he knows where this is going. And it’s scary. Terrifying. Derek closes his eyes and lets his other senses find Stiles. Underneath the smell of hospital and medicine, is the strong smell of fresh rain that cleanses his fears away. It’s like a thunder that pulls him to a whirlwind, making it impossible to hold back. A sweet and comforting fragrance that also feels like a trap. But it’s Stiles’ heartbeat, the very distinctive melody he almost lost that night, which makes him go on. Try, he whispers to himself. He needs to try and release everything once and for all.

“I never heard of someone like you, Stiles; someone that constantly invites himself to danger. The first thing you said to me was that you weren’t afraid of me,” he smiles at the memory, “but you were. Yet, you kept coming. Until I had no choice to accept that you and Scott were a package. Still are,” Derek pauses to embrace Stiles’ timid smile at those words. “Then you saved me, helped me, tried to kill me, saved and helped me again. And again. For a long time, I couldn’t figure you out,” he sighs deeply. “I like to be able to read people, to understand them. But you? Most of the times you’re an open book that I can’t translate at all.”

“That night at the pool, we were lucky that Scott got there in time. You could have died while trying to save me. And I know— I remember what I said that night,” Derek tries to swallow the lump on his throat, in vain. “I told you the truth. I wasn’t lying about not trusting you. But— When you let me go I thought that I was right. Finally, I had been right about you. And then you came back to show how wrong I was.” Derek stops to look at his hands, slightly trembling.

“I saw you struggling to keep us both alive. You could have easily let me go and hold on for at least one more hour. You didn’t,” he curls is fingers into a fist. “When I saw us both drowning, you were still grabbing my shirt and trying to swim to the surface. You kept desperately trying. No one has ever sacrificed themselves for me. I— I’m not sure for how long I tried to figure out your reasons, until… until I gave up,” he says finally. “You— It’s just who you are,” he stops to look at Stiles, momentarily shocked by his wide eyes. “And that was enough for you to win my trust.”

His chest flutters when he senses Stiles’ heartbeat increasing. “But trust comes with a price. Trusting you comes with a huge price that I wasn’t ready to pay.” He steels himself and breathes out. “I’m still not ready for it,” he finally admits.

“You got beaten by Gerard; you tried to save my betas; you were kidnapped by the alphas; you saw your friends almost dying; you kept lying to your father; and still, still you came back every time to those meetings,” he drops his gaze unable to face Stiles. “Any human would have turn their back, move on; forget this life to live a normal one. But you—,” his voice caught in this throat, “you didn’t.”

Silence falls and Derek can properly listen both their heartbeats. A synchronized sound that fills the entire room and his heart.

“You didn’t leave and even when our world was falling apart, you— you kept smiling. You made me smile,” he doesn’t add again, but his mind does. “I learned how hard it is not to laugh around you. I saw how easy it is for you to keep everyone together. Even when everyone was tired and scared, you kept them all on track. Overwhelmed. I was constantly overwhelmed. Each day was overwhelming...”

Derek can feel the familiar weigh of Stiles’ eyes on him. It’s surprisingly comforting, but it doesn’t manage to slow down his heart, on the contrary. It’s like being on a race and he’s so close. So close to the final stage that he can barely hold his breath.

“The fight with the alphas was suffocating. Everyone was in need of help, everyone was screaming and bleeding. You were safe, you could— you should have run away. The choice you made didn’t just put your life on the line, I— it was also my life. I couldn’t even breathe when I saw you lying there with Scott. And I wanted to yell at you, make sure that you were alive. But— I was so relieved when I heard your heart beating, when I saw your eyes open and— you were breathing…” He struggles with his breath as he feels his whole body slightly shake at the memory of that night.

“I’ve spent the last years of my life knowing how it feels to have someone taken away from you. Everyone—,” he breathes out loud as he stops, “It doesn’t matter.” His voice barely a whisper, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. Not now. “What matters is— I thought— No, it did felt like I lost you that night. There was so much blood coming out of your mouth, your eyes were— they had no light, no life. Panic. I panicked. I don’t remember feeling so much panic in my life,” he feels his heart shake in his chest as much as his voice. “I was— the night of the fire… we never saw it. It was too late. I was never in time to save Laura either. It was always too late. But that night… That night I was there. I was there and I couldn’t— I couldn’t do anything!”

“At the hospital, I realized how much I wanted— I wished that you never saved me. I saw Scott beside me and the painful expression on your father, the hours dragging out and I wished— I would have given you my life that night if I could.”

“Derek, I—“

“No, let me… Please let me finish,” he doesn’t even look at Stiles. He doesn’t dare to look. It’s over if he does. And there’s still… “The more people I saw coming to that hospital to see you, the clearer it was how important you are to them. They need you. I’m not— it’s not the same and they don’t—,” he sighs in despair, “I— I need you too. You are important to me.”

“I— Derek, what—“

He interrupts Stiles as soon as he hears a noise outside the room, a door opening and barefoot steps getting closer to Stiles’ bedroom. Derek freezes just like Stiles, when they realize that Stiles’ father stops right beyond the door. Derek stays on the bed, holding on for the moment where the Sheriff will turn the knob. There’s a frustrated sigh on the other side, too low for Stiles but loud enough for Derek. Seconds later, the Sheriff moves away from the door and walks away.

They stay in silence while Stiles’ father is in the bathroom. Derek doesn’t avert his eyes from the door, but he can feel Stiles’ eyes on him. He tries to filter Stiles’ heartbeat and panicked waves. He fails. Maybe this was—

The bathroom door suddenly opens and this time the Sheriff doesn’t stop by Stiles’ door. As soon as he listens the sound of the bedroom door close, Derek immediately gets up from the bed.

“I should go,” he whispers, but his eyes look everywhere except Stiles. When he does take that risk, Stiles is looking straight ahead lost in his thoughts. Nothing was left unsaid and when their eyes don’t meet, Derek knows it’s time to go.

As he steps away from the window, a strong hand holds his wrist.

“Derek…”

“You should rest,” he simply tells him without turning to look at him. Stiles’ grip tightens. The touch burns, disarming him from all his weapons.

“Just— what you said… I—“

“I’ll be here tomorrow. With Scott,” he adds. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, not just from Stiles who doesn’t let go, but also from Derek who desperately wants to stay. He doesn’t know what to expect from Stiles. Frankly, he shouldn’t expect anything. But he’s more human than he thought.

Eventually, Stiles lets him go.

***

Derek wakes up with the muffled voices of Isaac and Scott coming from downstairs. He checks his phone: 9AM and no messages. Derek kicks off the sheets and heads for the bathroom. A cold shower will be the first step to let him go through the events that are waiting for him.

Scott and Isaac are doing a picnic in the middle of the room when he gets downstairs, which Derek chooses to ignore.

“Hey, Derek. I brought some coffee and muffins. You should consider buying a coffee machine soon, though.”

“Thanks,” he replies when he sits on the small couch.

“A fridge would be more important right now,” Isaac remarks.

“Oh, can we buy drinks when you get one?” Scott asks.

Derek narrows his eyes, “Why do you want to buy drinks? You can’t get drunk.”

“We can’t?” Isaac looks at them with wide eyes.

“Nope,” Derek says as he takes a sip from his coffee.

“But it’s the thought that counts.”

Derek snorts, “Scott, you’re still underage. Even if you could get drunk, I wouldn’t buy you drinks.”

“Why do you have to be so boring?” Scott barks and Isaac laughs.

“Why do you still act like a child?” He sighs. “Are you ready to go?”

“Already? Have you met Stiles? The guy likes to sleep for as long as he can.”

“I doubt he will sleep much today,” Derek murmurs.

“He’s probably too eager to get out,” Isaac says.

“Maybe some other time.”

“How do you think his father will react?” Isaac turns to Scott. Honestly, Derek could use an answer for that too.

“I don’t know… He has a temper, but he loves Stiles. I’m more worried about what he will think of us. Of… me.”

“But he knows you,” Isaac points out.

“I think that’s what scares me the most,” Scott sighs. “To see the same expression I saw when my mom looked at me.”

Isaac nods and takes one more muffin.

“So you’re not worried about Stiles?” Derek asks without taking his eyes from the coffee on his hand.

“He’ll be fine. They have their moments, but at the end of the day it’s only the two of them. The Sheriff is always the first person to be in Stiles’ thoughts and vice versa.”

“Must be nice,” Isaac murmurs between bites. Scott pats his shoulder, while Derek chooses not to comment. There’s nothing he can say that will change Isaac’s past. Derek has given him a home now, a place where he can stay and be free. Be himself.

“We should go,” Derek says as he gets up.

“Can you drop me off at Boyd’s?” Isaac asks.

Derek smiles, “Of course.”

***

After they drop Isaac, Derek can feel Scott fidgeting on his seat, nervous and thoughtful. It’s only when they arrive that he decides to say something.

“We don’t have to do this,” Scott murmurs while looking at the Stilinski house. “We shouldn’t do this. Not today.”

Derek sighs, “We talked about this. It’s for his own protection.”

“But— Derek, you told me we’re stronger in numbers, as a pack. Besides, there’s no danger now…”

“Lydia is immune, Allison has a hole army of hunters behind her. Stiles only has us to protect him. It’s not enough. You know it’s not enough.”

Scott takes a deep breath and turns his gaze back to the house. “He’s going to hate me for this.”

“No, he won’t.” Even after a long pause Scott doesn’t reply. “You two are attached to the hip, maybe he will be upset for a week, but you won’t stop being friends.”

“Maybe,” Scott replies and turns back to look at him. “Are you sure?”

“Scott… If we don’t do it, the Sheriff will. He won’t let his son risk his life again. It’s better if we cut the rope.”

“Because it’s dangerous,” Scott says, lost in his thoughts. It’s not a question.

Derek slowly nods, “Because it’s dangerous.” He repeats it, more for himself.

From the outside, the house seems quiet, but to Derek it is starting to look like a battlefield filled with mines waiting for him to step in. He tightens his grip on the car wheel and lets his eyes close for a brief moment.

“We should go,” he tells Scott who nods and promptly opens the door to get out of the car. Derek follows his steps to the Stilinski house.

***

The Sheriff is the one who opens the door for them. Even behind the glasses, Derek can see the tired lines on his eyes.

“Scott. Derek,” he greets them and invites them inside.

Scott goes straight to the living room and Derek doesn’t have another choice but to follow him. The TV is on and the smell of coffee is still intense around the house.

“Stiles is upstairs. I’ll call him. You two can sit down,” the Sheriff says before walking to the stairs. He doesn’t stop when he adds: “Suit yourselves if you want some coffee. Scott you know the way.”

“Thanks, sir. I think we’re fine,” Scott answers him, but the Sheriff is long gone. He sits down in the middle of the big couch and Derek goes to sit next to his left, the closest place to the window and the farthest from the single couch, where he assumes that’s where the Sheriff will sit. While they wait, Scott flickers through the channels and Derek lets himself study the room.

Behind the TV screen, there’s a shelf filled with DVDs with some titles that he recognizes. There’s also a stereo far to the right with only a few CDs on top of it. The small display cabinet to his side gets more of his attention. It’s filled with little bird figurines, all shapes, colors and sizes. The five shelves can barely hold the collection. He leans down to see them more properly, each one is different from the other, but they’re all extremely beautiful.

“They’re from Stiles’ mom,” Scott startles him, but when Derek turns Scott is not even looking at him. “It’s one of the few things they kept on display around the house. Stiles told me he bought the last birds for her.” Scott turns to point to the last shelf. “See those three over there? He bought them with his allowance.” Derek takes a closer look and realizes how those three birds stand out from the rest. They don’t look as expensive and handmade like the others.

He straightens up on his seat when he feels his thoughts drifting away to Stiles as a child counting his money to buy one last present for his mother. His eyes land on a big picture on top of the shelf in front of him. He recognizes Stiles immediately, smiling and carefree, holding a red ball above his little arm. The Sheriff, much younger and lean, is not looking at the camera, but he’s smiling fondly and his right hand is ruffling Stiles’ hair. It’s the woman on his knees right next to Stiles that he pauses to look at closely. Her eyes are similar to Stiles’, big whiskey eyes, followed by a huge smile that makes her nose wrinkle just like her son. Derek looks around for more pictures, but doesn’t find any. Shortly after, there’s a door opening upstairs.

Derek doesn’t dare to look at Stiles, but he recognizes his heartbeat as soon as he gets downstairs.

“Hey, buddy,” Scott gets up and Derek politely follows his lead. It’s strange and suddenly it feels like he has never been here before.

Scott gives Stiles a tight hug, “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m good,” Stiles says, but Derek hears otherwise. “Hi, Derek.”

When he turns to look, there’s a hint of a smile on Stiles’ face. It makes his stomach twist. Now that he’s standing only inches away, Derek can feel the panicked waves coming from Stiles.

“Hi,” he replies and lets his lips curl. It’s easy to not miss how Stiles’ shoulders seem to relax. With the daylight and the oversized t-shirt, Stiles looks even more fragile than when he was at the hospital.

“Here,” the Sheriff gives Stiles a glass of water and some pills.

“Thanks, dad.”

The Sheriff grabs the remote from the round table and turns off the TV. Just like Derek predicted, he sits on the couch far ahead.

“Let’s start this,” he says.

Stiles sits next to Scott, still holding the glass. Derek waits for Scott before sitting down as well. The room is now terribly quiet without the TV playing.

“Well, where should I start…?”

“From the beginning, Stiles,” the Sheriff says.

Stiles nods, “Yeah, okay. The beginning… Remember when—,” Stiles tightens his grip on the glass and turns his gaze at Derek, wondering. But he quickly goes back to the Sheriff. “Remember when Laura Hale’s body was found in the woods?”

The Sheriff frowns, “That was two years ago,” he pauses, “But yes, I remember.”

“Well, as you know, Scott was with me that night. But when you found me I told you—“

“You lied to me,” the tone is bitter.

“Yes… So, Scott stood there alone in the forest.”

“Does this have a point, Stiles?”

“I was bitten that night,” Scott says.

The Sheriff’s head jerks back at Scott, surprised. “Bitten? By what?”

“Well, at the time he thought he saw a wolf,” Stiles replies.

“And you didn’t report this. Any of you,” the Sheriff scolds them. “What does this have to do with Laura Hale’s body?”

“That part. Well, the reason why…” Stiles’ voice trails off and he looks back at Derek again. Derek nods, as if Stiles needs permission to talk about his sister. Stiles inhales sharply before continuing, “There’s a reason why she was cut in half.”

The Sheriff straightens up on his seat, “I’m listening.”

“She was— She wasn’t… human. The people who cut her— they kill them like that. It’s some kind of tradition or whatever.”

“What?”

“Werewolves,” Stiles lets it out finally. “Dad, Laura Hale was a werewolf.”

The Sheriff’s eyes go extremely wide, like they’re going to pop out at any second. His heartbeat races, but Derek can’t quite place the emotions coming from him. There’s a long pause where none of them says a word. Stiles has his eyes fixed on the water inside his glass, while the Sheriff keeps looking at him, then at them. Derek doesn’t avoid him when the Sheriff’s eyes land on him.

“Is this true?” The question is directed at him, but both boys beside him glance up. The three of them nod as a consensus.

“Is this some kind of joke? Is this why you wanted them here?!”

“No! And yes,” Stiles voice stutters. “They’re here to prove to you I’m telling the truth. I know it’s a lot to—“

“You can’t expect me to believe this,” the Sheriff interrupts him, his face getting red, angry, just like the tone of his voice.

“Show him, Scott,” Stiles whispers.

“Stiles, I’m not sure if—“

“Please, just— just do it.”

Scott hesitates, but he moves his hand to the front where the Sheriff can see it. The Sheriff’s heated expression immediately changes when claws come out.

“What the—“

“Scott is a werewolf too. He was bitten by one that night. Not Laura, she— she was already a werewolf. A born werewolf, like Derek. Peter Hale was the one who bit Scott and— well, the mountain lion attacks were actually caused by him. He’s dead now, so you don’t have to worry about him,” Stiles stops to breathe, “I— We can tell you everything that happened, but I guess the most important part is the fact that werewolves are real.”

“Werewolves,” the Sheriff repeats, his eyes glancing up everywhere except them.

Stiles places the glass on the table, “Dad, I know it’s a lot to take, but this is the secret. This is the reason why I’ve been lying to you. And I don’t want to lie anymore.”

The Sheriff seems taken aback with the words as he turns his gaze back at Stiles.

“I don’t— How can you expect me to believe in all of this?”

Stiles eyes go wide, “But Scott just— well, he can… Scott just do the whole thing,” he says desperate.

“But your father— Stiles, he’s—“

“I’ll do it,” Derek says when he remembers what Scott had told him before. He stands up, regretting it a second later when he looks at all of them from above. The Sheriff follows his every move as he twists his neck and his shoulders, letting the transformation happen right before his eyes.

“Do you believe me now?” Stiles asks, but the Sheriff doesn’t reply. His whole body stiffens at the sight. The sight of Derek. Derek is used to it. He doesn’t know what he was hoping for. This is the normal reaction. The reaction of when a monster stands in front of you.

“Derek,” Scott whispers. And he doesn’t need to be told twice.

When Derek turns back to human, the Sheriff is still looking at him, shocked, scared, with sweat drops falling down his face. It takes him a while to form words.

“Did they hurt you?” He turns to Stiles, “Is that it?!”

While the boys beside him look surprised, Derek doesn’t. In fact, this is how he pictured this. Of course, the Sheriff would feel scared and threaten, especially after what happened to his son.

“What?! No! They saved me!” Stiles shouts. “Dad, you’ve known Scott for years. Do you really think he would hurt me?”

“Can he turn into—,” he waves his hands at Derek, “into that?!” One moment he looks confused, the next one he’s shocked, “Does your mother know?”

Next to him, Scott drops his gaze and Derek doesn’t hesitate to put a hand on his shoulder.

“That is a werewolf,” Derek watches Stiles tighten his hands, his knuckles white with the strong grip. “And it doesn’t change what they are on the inside.”

“They’re— Stiles, you can’t possibly— This is not happening,” the Sheriff falls deeper on the couch, hand scrubbing down his face.

“It is. It’s been happening for two years since Scott was turned. And people died, yes, but they did not kill them. I can promise you that.”

“You can promise,” the Sheriff scoffs. “You’ve been lying to me all this time. All those deaths and you— you knew about them all, didn’t you?”

“Technically, yes. We were trying to fight whatever was killing them. First it was Peter, then it was Jackson—“

“Jackson?! Jackson Whittemore?!”

“He’s not killing anyone now!”

“I’m sorry if that doesn’t reassure me.”

“He didn’t know what he was doing. And we tried to— that time we stole the police vehicle, we were trying to prevent more deaths, but he didn’t know he was killing them. Matt was the one controlling him, he was—“

“Stop, stop. I don’t want to hear anymore,” the Sheriff sighs in frustration, “I’m not sure I know you anymore.”

“Dad…”

“I need a drink,” the Sheriff scratches his eyes behind his glasses, painfully, but he doesn’t get up. “How did you got hurt?”

Stiles breathes out, “Months ago, an entire pack of werewolves came into town. But not just any werewolves, they’re called alphas. They’re stronger and faster, like Derek. He’s an alpha,” he pauses momentarily, “All those deaths were caused by that pack. We tried to fight them all together. Derek’s pack, Scott, the Argents, Lydia and Jackson. I helped where I—“

“Wait, how many werewolves are living in this town?”

“Six now, sir,” Derek quickly replies even though the question wasn’t for him. But he’s the alpha, just like Stiles said.

“Six,” the Sheriff repeats. “You mentioned the Argents.”

“They’re hunters,” Stiles says. “They’ve been hunting werewolves for centuries.”

“But they helped… they helped them.”

“Yes, because they’re not killing people,” there’s so much exasperation on Stiles’ voice that Derek wants to take off his hand from Scott’s shoulder to try and reach Stiles; to touch and tell him to stay calm.

“Why are you helping these people?”

Stiles huffs, “They’re my friends, of course I’ll help them.”

The Sheriff’s brows rise, “You almost died,” and Derek can relate to the way his voice shakes with the words.

“It was an accident,” Stiles mutters.

“I’m definitely going to need a drink for this,” the Sheriff removes his glasses, gets up and walks away from the living room. Somewhere, a door closes with a force that makes the three of them flinch.

After a minute of silence, Scott says: “That went well… I think.”

Stiles snorts and Derek watches him bury his face on his hands with a pained expression. He wishes he could make this better for him, but he can’t. He’s going to hate me, Scott told him minutes ago, but Derek knows that if Stiles is going to hate someone, it’s going to be him.

Chapter Text

***

His father leaves the room, but the tension stays. Stiles wants to scream at the top of his lungs, until his throat is sore and he can’t say anything more. No more lies, no more excuses, no more. The worst thing about this is that he was actually expecting it. He knew this would happen; it was only a matter of time. His father doesn’t understand, not now. He will, he hopes.

“Stiles?” Scott places a hand on his back, his voice lets out his concern.

Stiles lifts his head, “I’m fine,” he breathes out and lets his back fall deeper into the couch. He looks at the ceiling, but his vision quickly drifts to his right.

Derek. His words from yesterday are the only thing holding him right now. Stiles doesn’t understand, but he wants to, desperately. So many questions popped into his mind in the middle of the night. Hopes and dreams that were just that and now there’s a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel. He wants to reach that light. He wants to reach Derek, to touch, to talk and ask him. Ask him anything and nothing at all. But right now, darkness feels safer. The unknown is better than letting more people down. He already did that today.

Stiles is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the moment when Derek looks back at him. Stiles’ eyes travel from Derek’s shoulders to his face. Unexpectedly, neither of them flinch when their eyes lock. Derek’s dismal eyes mirror his. Stiles doesn’t even know why he feels sad; he doesn’t care right now, not when Derek looks at him with a heavy heart. It’s not right, why are you sad? He thinks.

Derek is the one who breaks the contact.

“We need to talk to you, Stiles,” he says.

“Derek, not right now,” Scott retorts with a low voice.

Stiles straightens himself, “What’s wrong?”

Beside him, Scott seems weary.

“Nothing is wrong,” Derek pauses. “For now, at least.”

“Okay...” Stiles frowns. “So why are you two looking so emotionally constipated? Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the support, but if you’re worried about my father—”

“It’s not that,” Scott sighs. “While you were at the hospital, Derek and I talked about joining forces... permanently. To become one pack.”

“But that’s great!” Stiles almost jumps on his seat.

“Yeah, it is,” Scott nods, but he still looks troubled.

“Cleary, you’re both ecstatic about it.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “We are, but it’s not that.”

“Maybe we should save this for some other day,” Scott whispers.

“I can still hear you, you know? You’re sitting right next to me.”

Scott turns to him with a guilty expression, “Fine. We talked about what happened and... We think that, you know, with the alphas and—“

Derek grunts in despair, “I’ll tell him.”

When Stiles leans forward to look at Derek, his eyes are still sad, but there’s a lot of determination too. And whatever Derek is about to say, Stiles already knows it will be useless to argue with him.

“This wasn’t easy to decide, but both of us agree it’s for the best,” Derek says.

Stiles laughs nervously, “You’re scaring me. What was your first decision as a pack?”

“You almost died that night,” Derek starts.

“Oh god, are we really going to start every conversation with that?!”

“Stiles, please,” Scott says.

“Yeah, okay. Sorry,” he can take another lecture about danger. Fine, if that’s how their worry will subside, he can take it. No problemo.

“Listen,” Derek sighs and pauses to look at him in the eyes, “I’m accepting Scott into my pack. Not you.” His voice doesn’t stutter like every cell in Stiles’ body.

“Wh— what?!”

Scott grunts something and stands up away from the couch. The space that stays between Stiles and Derek is enormous. There’s no bridge or rope that could even link them now.

“Scott is a werewolf. He’s strong and capable of fighting. He heals.”

“And I don’t.”

“No, you don’t.”

“So, you don’t want me in your pack.”

“No,” Derek says, like it’s final.

“You don’t need me.”

“Stiles...”

“No, it’s fine. I just—,” he gets up, legs barely standing still. “So, everything you said last night was what? A joke?! Did you really mean all that? No, of course you didn’t. I should have known.”

“I meant every word,” Derek replies, but his eyes don’t meet his gaze.

“Sure you did,” Stiles says sarcastically, anger seeping through him.

“What are you talking about? What happened last night?” Scott asks, confused.

“Yes, Derek. Tell him. Tell Scott everything you told me to just turn your back on me! Like I’m disposable and—“

“This is for your own good. We’re trying to protect you.”

 “Protect me?” Stiles laughs. “I’m sorry, but the last time we were in danger, I was the one who saved your ass.”

“I don’t do good, Stiles. I am not a good person, but I’m thankful for that. I meant what I said last—“

“No, you didn’t! You— you lied. You took advantage of the way I feel, I— I was finally back home and you tried to sweet your way making me believe that—“ he stops himself before making everything worse than it already is. “And today you come here to stab me in the back.”

“Can someone please explain me what’s going on? What did you tell him?” Scott asks Derek.

“Your alpha came here last night and the last thing he said was—“

“That has nothing to do with this!” Derek shouts as he stands up, making him suddenly feel small and useless. Useless to the pack, useless to Derek.

“Really?” Stiles chokes on a dark laugh, his heart clenching at his chest. “Then tell me! Why did you come here last night telling me all those things and now you throw all of that away?! Why Derek? I would really like to know.”

“You almost dying is reason enough. For Scott and for me, that’s the only reason that matters,” his voice suddenly so soft that Stiles just wants to punch him.

“How dare you wait for me to tell my father the truth and do this?!”

“This was a bad idea,” Scott mutters from beside him.

“And you— what the hell, Scott?! How many times have I helped you? You’re my best friend! How can you side with him on this?!”

“Stiles, this is not about that—“

“This is exactly about that. I saved your werewolf asses plenty of times. So, what if I got hurt?! It could have happened to anyone!”

“When will you understand that you don’t heal?!” Derek’s voice is angry and cold when he shouts. “You’ll be safe if you stay out of this.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you two! Clearly, you both forgotten the times you both practically died. On me! How dare you use this,” he palms his chest even thought it stings, “against me?!”

“We’re not using anything against you!” Derek says firmly, “You’re impossible,” Derek turns his back on him.

“I’m— I’m impossible?!

Scott steps in front of him, “Stiles, we’re just trying—“

“To protect me. So, your big plan is to remove me from your circle of friends and what? Lock me here? Pay a few visits from time to time?”

“What? No! You’re being unfair; we really just want to prevent this from happening again! I don’t want you to die.”

“Scott, wake up! Everyone dies! I could die tomorrow from a car accident or drowning or cancer!”

Scott flinches.

“What the hell is going on here?” his father asks as he storms into the room.

Derek turns to face him, “Sir, I’m sorry for everything we’ve put you through. I promise that—“

“Derek, don’t do it. I swear that if you—“

“Let him finish, Stiles,” his father orders him.

“Scott and I won’t be taking Stiles with us anymore. I’m going to forbid everyone in my pack to assure that he won’t face any more dangers.”

“You can’t just order people to avoid me!”

“They won’t avoid you, Stiles. You’re all still friends, but you are not part of this pack. You won’t be helping us anymore. It’s been decided.”

“For someone who can barely make their own choices, you sure like to boss people around,” he snaps.

“Stiles, just— Look at you! You’re human, you’re still healing. And you almost died. You can’t blame us from trying to protect you.”

“I agree,” his dad announces.

“Dad! You can’t— I can’t believe this is happening,” he turns around and drops on the couch, hands scrubbing his hair. Why, why, why? Everything was supposed to be good, to stay good.

“We’re really just trying to protect you…” Scott tells him, his voice low like he’s approaching a feral beast. Stiles would laugh if he could.

“Get out,” Stiles whispers.

“Stiles…” Scott places a hand on his shoulder that Stiles immediately shoves off.

“I said GET OUT!”

“Stiles!” His father shouts.

Scott is looking at him with wide eyes when he meets his gaze. He watches Derek placing a hand on his best friend’s shoulder and he flips.

“You— never, ever, come here ever again. I don’t care if the world is about to end, but you’re not allowed to ask for my help anymore.”

Derek’s face makes him want to rip his own heart out and toss away all those feelings. His stupid and ridiculous eyes should not be allowed to look that vulnerable, especially not when he’s stabbing him like this.

“Stiles, he saved your life. That’s no way to treat—“

“Now you’re on his side?!” He asks his father, disbelief in his voice. “I saved his life countless of times! Actually, this,” he points at himself, “this was me saving him.”

“Derek, wait!” Scott calls out and flees.

Stiles didn’t even notice the moment Derek left. His eyes sting, his lungs keep shrinking and his hands don’t stop trembling. He falls down to his knees and screams. His father clutches beside him saying something that Stiles doesn’t understand. The screams turn into agonizing sobs. They stay there in the living room until Stiles doesn’t have more tears to shed.

***

The next two days eventually get slightly better. He tells his father everything that has happened on the past two years. One afternoon, they even go through some of his old files and Stiles even shows him a few pages of the bestiary. He doesn’t have to explain his father how this is his life now, it’s easy to read between the lines. Stiles answers each one of his father’s questions, even the ones he only has his theories as a support. It doesn’t make up for all the lies, but it’s a start. It’s a way of healing and tie their laces again. But he’s still grounded, possibly for life.

His phone keeps buzzing with texts from everyone, except Derek. It doesn’t surprise him, not after how they parted, how Derek left. Stiles hates himself for still hoping where there shouldn’t be any hope at all. He doesn’t reply to any of the messages. And he actually tries to fight himself to not read the ones from Scott, but he does it anyway.

The window remains locked and he doesn’t even care that his room is so dark with the blinds closed. Any werewolf could easily stand on the other side and listen to whatever he’s doing inside, but he tries not to think about it. Not just to try to keep himself sane, but mostly to not give in to false hopes. He’s always doing that. It’s time to stop and live his life, not his dreams.

On the third day, Lydia interrupts the movie he’s currently watching on his laptop, when she storms inside his room with some folders and books.

“Thanks for answering my texts,” she says while placing everything on his desk, a touch of bitterness on her voice.

“Hello to you too, Lydia,” he greets her without averting his eyes from the screen.

“Your father let me in.”

“Of course he did,” he sighs before closing his laptop. “What do you want?”

She narrows her eyes, “Before you say anything else, please keep in mind that I’m not the reason why you’re glooming.”

“Sorry…” he says without making an effort to hide his guilt.

Lydia sighs before sitting on the chair next to his desk, “I brought you homework and some notes. It’s basically everything you missed while you were at the hospital. When are you coming back?”

“Monday,” Stiles replies. He doesn’t want to think about it. At the hospital, he was eager to come back to school, to do normal things and be with his friends. Right now there’s not much to look forward. It actually scares him.

“Do you really need to keep the blinds closed?”

“Yes.”

“And how long are you going to stay in that bubble without replying to your friends?”

He laughs, but there’s no warm in it.

“I’m serious, Stiles. Everyone is worried about you.”

“I’m sorry if I’m having an hard time to believe in that.”

“Scott is a mess.”

Stiles grunts, “Can we please not talk about Scott?”

“He really is,” she goes on. “Allison told me you are the only thing he talks about.”

“I don’t really care.”

Lydia stands up and sits next to him on the bed, “You two are brothers.”

“I—,” he runs a hand on his face, “I don’t want to talk with him. Not right now.”

“When then?”

“I don’t know!” Stiles raises his voice, but instantly regrets it, “Sorry.”

“You know that neither Scott or Derek are good at this, but it’s only because they care about you. A lot.”

“It’s a weird way of showing how much they care.”

Lydia snorts, “But you know it’s true.”

“Maybe,” he huffs.

“Stiles.”

“Okay, fine. I know what they’re trying to do and that’s why I hate it so much. I don’t need to stay away to be safe!”

“I know.”

“I can still help the pack without being on the front lines.”

“I agree.”

“I mean, how many times have I saved their asses just with useful information?”

“A lot.”

“I don’t understand why I can’t be part of something where I finally feel useful. And suddenly, they make me feel like I’m disposable. Hell is filled with good intentions; I don’t care if the reasons are to protect me. What about me? What about how I feel when they risk their lives for us all? Who is going to protect them?”

Lydia nods.

“You agree with me,” he realizes after a moment.

“Of course I do. Apparently, we all do. But you would know that if you actually replied to your messages,” she points to his cell phone. “I think Scott regrets his decision, but he still believes in whatever mantra Derek put inside his head.”

Stiles can’t help to roll his eyes, “I definitely don’t want to talk about Derek.”

“You two are so stubborn and so similar,” she scoffs.

“Have you been watching that movie again?” Stiles asks.

“Maybe,” she smiles. “But you are.”

He shakes his head, “No, I’m not Bennet and Derek is not— well, okay, maybe he is a Darcy, but I’m definitely not a Bennet.”

“I think you’re more of a Bennet than you think,” Lydia tells him.

“Well, I do have pride. I won’t be the one crawling back.”

“Give me your laptop,” she snatches it away from him.

“What are you doing?” He asks a bit alarmed, because Lydia finding his laptop only happens in his worst nightmares.

“Getting that movie. I don’t think you quite understand why it’s called Pride and Prejudice, but we’ll work on that.”

“You want to watch the movie right now?”

“Why not? Do you have any plans?”

He laughs sarcastically, but he actually feels happy to finally spend some quality time with someone, especially if it’s Lydia, who settles down next to him like it’s natural. And it is. You can’t forget your first crush, not quite. But you can make new memories, build a strong friendship and move on. That’s where they stand now. And it feels great.

They spend the afternoon rewatching Pride and Prejudice, naming each character over their friends. It’s not his favorite movie, by far, but this time it’s funnier than the last one. When their English teacher gave them the assignment about the novelist Jane Austen, everyone gathered at Lydia’s to watch every possible movie based on her works.  With popcorns and sad jokes about the 18^th century, only the girls remained focused during the session.

In retrospect, making fun of his friends was something he never thought he would be doing with Lydia Martin. It feels surprisingly good for the low self-esteem he’s been building up for the last few days. Except when Darcy and Elizabeth fight, his heart clenches. Of course Derek is not in love with him, but he can still relate to Elizabeth when she sends him away for good.

He had time to clear his head; he knows what Derek is doing. It pisses him off, because the asshole always means well, but he sucks at showing it. Stiles can see it; it’s right there barely on the surface, but it’s there. But he’s still too proud to fight over this. Is it worth it? His heart says it is. Even though the crashes between them softened over the last few months, they still fight. And Stiles realizes now that it’s always Derek who gives in.

“I’m definitely a Bennet,” he grasps.

“Told you so,” Lydia smirks.

He jerks his head to look at her, “Will you be my Jane?”

Lydia laughs, “No, that would be Allison. But I can still help you.”

“How?”

“I would start by replying to those texts,” she smiles and handles him his phone settled on his nightstand.

Stiles obeys and replies to each one. He saves Scott for last and calls him instead.

It’s worth it.

Chapter Text

***

Leaving Beacon Hills was for the best. A decision from a coward who can’t face the consequences of his own actions. He couldn’t deal with how Stiles felt so betrayed. He knows how that feels. If Derek had stayed one more minute in that house, he would have changed his mind. I take it back, I want you to stay by our side, the words resonating in his throat. It was a close call; Stiles kept climbing his walls with his heated words. Derek can’t just tell him the truth. He can’t spill everything out and stay for the unbearable aftermath. He can’t stay. So, he left.

Three days close to the sea feels like a breath of fresh air to his mind. He used to do this with Laura before the fire; pack up only some basic needs and come here to this beach. It’s not far from Beacon Hills, but it’s enough to feel like an escape. At the time, he didn’t understand why it made Laura feel better and at peace. He was too young, too naïve. But now he does and he misses her by his side, to tell her that he gets it now. The fresh salty breeze that cleans your wounds, even though it burns.

The beach is calm and deserted most of the time. The April sun is not welcoming enough to bring people here and the wind is still chilly. Derek spots some people jogging, others walking their dogs and even some teenage couples. They don’t bother him as he sits by one of the rocks. The book he brought is only a mere instrument in his hands that he doesn’t even care to read. When the sun settles, he goes to a small neighborly fast food restaurant, orders whatever seems more appealing on the menu and walks back to the joint of cabins by the beach. The rent is extremely cheap this time of the year, all of them practically empty. The only thing that makes him fall asleep is the constant sound of the waves hitting the sand.

During his stay, Derek gets a few texts from his betas and a call from Scott. He doesn’t reply. All of them end with “Are you sure?” or “Was that really necessary?” Apart from Erica who seems to be able to read him better than anyone. “I understand,” she wrote, “I would have done the same, but,” because there’s always a but when it comes to Stiles “is it worth it?”

Derek doesn’t know the answer for it. If he did he wouldn’t be here watching the waves come and go. Come and go, that’s exactly what his mind keeps thinking about. Derek wants to run wild and disappear, but he also wants to wrap his arms around Stiles and never let go. He’s still deciding for the right path to follow.

The truth is, he never thought Stiles would react like this. Stiles is constantly referring to their activities as something that he must endure, a curse that was never meant to get to him. The bite happened to Scott, but it brought Stiles along with it. I’m letting him go, a little voice tells him. I’m freeing him from this life. I’m protecting him. I’m protecting him from myself. I need to let him go.

But he can’t.

It’s not worth it.

***

On the fourth day, Derek decides to come back to Beacon Hills and Scott is already waiting for him as soon as he drives through the preserve. He stops the car and, without saying anything, Scott just walks away. Derek follows him, both of them slowly climbing the woods. They walk for a while, still distant from each other and with no exchange of words. The day feels more pleasing and warm here in Beacon Hills; the morning light irradiates through the forest and makes him momentarily forget the darkness of his thoughts.

They reach the top, just right where you can see the whole town still not fully awake, but already in frenzy. The sight makes him long for the quiet sea again.

Scott sits on a rock in silence and Derek doesn’t make any effort to break it either, but he doesn’t sit. Looking at this town is currently not one of his favorite things; it’s barely a nice thing. Anything that prolongs his stay makes him fidgety and insecure, like something or someone is just behind one of those trees ready to attack and take everything away. Again.

But silence was never a constant between him and Scott. It’s unfamiliar and uncomfortable for both, so it’s not a surprise when Scott finally decides to break it.

“You smell like the ocean,” Scott says.

Derek just hums and nods.

“I haven’t seen the sea for quite some time,” Scott tells him after a while.

“It’s not far from here,” Derek replies.

“Maybe we could go there one day?”

“We could.”

“All of us,” it’s not a question and there’s a quick moment where Derek’s heart stutters at the implication of us. It feels like taking a punch when his mind quickly jumps to Stiles. Is he allowed to even want him to be part of it? To be part of something that feels so much like pack? It’s definitely a punch, but not just by anyone. It’s a punch from himself.

“It would be nice,” he mumbles.

“Derek,” Scott lets out a heavy sigh, “Stiles called me.”

He jerks his head back at Scott in a split second.

“He finally let me in again, but, well, he’s not about forgive and forget. Do you know what he said to me?” Scott turns to look at him.

Derek shifts on his feet to look at him properly, “No.”

“That he understands. Of all the things he could say to me, that’s what he said.”

“That’s good,” Derek frowns, surprised.

“No, that’s bad. It’s really bad,” he laughs nervously. “This is the same thing as saying that he doesn’t care what we think, he will act anyway.”

“That’s—”

“The exact opposite of what we wanted?” Scott snorts. “There’s more.”

This time Derek does sit, not averting his eyes from Scott.

“Allison told me what happened at the hospital while we were away in Sacramento,” Scott’s eyes drop to the floor. “She was worried about us too, obviously, but Stiles actually wanted to leave the hospital.”

“What?!” Derek cuts in, disbelief in his voice.

“It doesn’t surprise me. If Allison wasn’t there, he probably would have left. But that made me think of what he said the other day.” Scott swallows and meets his eyes. Derek is actually taken aback by how miserable and tired they look. “He’s scared to lose us. Like, seriously terrified that it might happen one day. And let’s face it, our lives were not normal before this, but they were our normal. We knew how to deal with it; we had to learn how to deal. Not this. There’s no book that can prepare us for this. No one is ever ready to see your friends die.”

“I know that,” he says a little more harshly than he intended.

“Do you? I know I agreed with you about protecting him. I still do. He’s my best friend and a brother to me, how couldn’t I agree with that? But— Stiles is my normal in this life. And I can’t imagine the next time a crisis is here without him there to remind me of why I’m even doing this.”

Derek sighs, “You’re still friends.”

“That might be the case at the moment, but if I push him away from what my life is now, I doubt it will stay that way. Am I being selfish for wanting my best friend with me even knowing he will be in danger?”

Derek doesn’t comment. He doesn’t really need to.

“I am, I know I am,” Scott shakes his head, “but we can make this work. I— I talked with Allison and Chris. Now that Stiles’ father knows the truth, they are willing to give him some weapons. They will be able to protect themselves if anything happens.”

“It’s not that simple,” Derek replies.

“I know it’s not, but it may work. And if there’s a fight, we just make sure that Stiles, Lydia and Allison are safe. Just like we always did.”

“You are missing all of the times where they were actually there,” he snaps. “I know what you’re trying to do, Scott,” he says more softly this time. “It’s called loyalty, but loyalty won’t bring your friends back if something happens. Something did happen and— and we couldn’t do anything.”

“It would have been worse if you weren’t there,” Scott says without hesitation.

Derek’s heart skips a beat.

“That’s my point,” Scott continues, clearly aware of how Derek’s heart just gave him the answer he needs. “Can you imagine if you weren’t? We wouldn’t even be having this conversation, because Stiles would be dead,” he almost chokes on the last word.

Derek takes both hands to his face and doesn’t say anything.

“I’m scared too,” Scott whispers.

They remain in silence for a while, Derek with his gaze still on the floor, thinking. Thinking about everything all over again, like a tape that he keeps replaying and replaying until it’s ruined and driving him crazy. Every single moment and every single word is still so vivid and fresh. It makes his head spin madly around the feelings that he can’t brush off. When did Stiles manage to get so much under his skin? When did he stop thinking pragmatically because of one person? When will he stop feeling so alarmed?

“Can I ask you something?” Scott blurts out of nowhere.

Derek nods just to acknowledge his question.

“Do you— and please don’t get this the wrong way, but…”

“What?” Derek glances up to look at Scott.

“Do you like him?”

Derek freezes.

“I mean Stiles,” Scott clarifies when Derek remains silent and looking at him with wide eyes. “It’s fine if you do,” he says, sheepish. “I guess it would be weird. I mean, it’s definitely weird. He’s my best friend, but— it’s fine really. I know you care for him, but since that night I’ve been thinking how you— I just don’t think I ever saw you like that.”

Scott doesn’t push it and Derek is still processing each word. And each word is very much close to the truth. He likes Stiles and he never felt so terrified as he is now.

“Then you understand me,” he finally says.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Scott replies and Derek doesn’t miss the small chuckle on his throat and the shy knowing grin splattered on his face.

***

Luck is something that doesn’t chase after Derek; in fact, it’s probably even scared of him. Some people are born lucky, while others are extremely unlucky. It’s all about balance. Derek is part of the unlucky group. It’s no surprise at all that his day gets worse the minute he sets foot in town.

Derek leaves the forest around midday, dropping Scott at his house. He doesn’t make any stops, even after sending a text to Erica warning her that he’s back. The drive to the gas station is as normal as it could be, but how it ends is something he wasn’t expecting.

The tank of the Camaro is barely full, when a police cruiser stops right in front of it. Derek actually stops breathing when the Sheriff steps out from it. At first, he doesn’t see him and casually goes to fill up the tank of the cruiser. It would be funny to any other person from the outside to be watching them when their eyes lock. Unlucky is not even enough to describe Derek’s life at the moment. He could look away and leave, pretend it’s a stranger and go back to his own business. Except that this is no stranger, is Stiles’ father, who now knows what he is and was terrified of him, not that long ago.

He nods, politely. Surprisingly, he’s greeted back and there’s no wave of fear coming from the Sheriff. It helps him settle down on his nerves.

The tank is full. He can leave now, but he doesn’t. It’s the first step to try and amend whatever harm he caused to Stiles’ family, the lies and scars that Stiles had to embrace and the Sheriff had to endure in the dark.

“Sir,” he says.

“Derek, I heard you were out of town,” he comments, but Derek’s surprised look makes him go on. “Scott and the Lahey kid told me.”

“I was,” Derek watches the Sheriff close the tank and cleaning his hands on his trousers, “I came back today.”

“Did it work?” The Sheriff asks.

“I’m sorry?”

“Never mind,” he sighs, but promptly turns to look at Derek again. His eyes are not like Stiles, they’re small and too bright, but the light still seems familiar. “I know a small place not far away from here. How do you feel about coffee? Do you— I’m not sure if you drink coffee or even—“

Derek feels for his uneasiness, it’s almost awkward.

“I do,” Derek replies.

“Oh thank God,” the Sheriff breathes out relief. “So, how about it?”

He accepts. A surprise even to himself.

***

“This is nice,” the Sheriff says while looking around the almost empty coffee shop. He wasn’t joking when he said it was small. There’s a middle-aged woman next to the door reading a newspaper; a man that is typing on his laptop and eating lunch at the same time messing up all of his keyboard, it strangely reminds him of Stiles and what he can expect from him in a couple of years; the waitress is nice and charming, very fond of the Sheriff as she tries to do small talk, but she leaves them alone once they’re served.

“I figured it would be a nice place to have this talk. It’s probably not easy to come to places like this, right?”

Derek frowns, not really getting what he means. The Sheriff leans down slightly before checking their surroundings. “Stiles told me about your… your powers. I guess you tend to avoid crowded places because of it?”

The thought makes him want to chuckle for a bit, but he doesn’t. It’s nice though, that the sheriff would care about it. Then again, this could also mean how the Sheriff is more on alert now that he knows what Derek is.

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Derek replies cordially.

The Sheriff looks pleased and the way his lips curl to smile only vaguely is definitely a Stilinski trait.

“Of everything I thought that my son could be involved in, I never considered this,” the Sheriff says. “No offence.”

“None taken.”

The Sheriff’s breath comes out heavily, “He told me everything. Finally, all those deaths make sense. I still can’t believe I lost almost all my department to a monster,” he pauses to take a sip of his coffee, “It feels like a horror movie.”

“Except that it happened,” Derek says.

“Exactly.”

Derek flavors his still hot coffee and when he glances up the Sheriff is still looking at him. There’s a question coming up. Another familiar characteristic.

“I guess I should thank you,” the Sheriff starts. “I know things are still pretty heated, but Stiles is a good person. He didn’t hide the fact that you saved him a few times.”

“He saved me too.”

“Oh, I know. He couldn’t omit that either,” he smirks a little. “He has a nasty temper sometimes, but he talked about it with pride too.”

Derek can’t help to roll his eyes, of course Stiles would brag about it. Not that it doesn’t deserve merit, it definitely does. But it’s Stiles’ favorite argument to include himself in their plans, to put himself in danger. Derek hates that argument.

“I see you’ve met my son.”

Derek snorts, “He leaves quite an impression.”

The Sheriff hums and settles both of his elbows on the table before looking straight into his eyes. “I don’t want him in danger anymore,” the tone of his voice is firm and it sends Derek back to the police station when he was arrested because of Scott and Stiles.

“I don’t want him in danger either,” he replies.

“I know,” the Sheriff tells him and Derek can’t sense a lie on his words. “He’s turning eighteen next week, but he will always be a kid to me,” he says fondly. “I’m still his father. My job is to look out for him and I can’t do that when he lies to me.”

“Sir, I promise that—“

“I know, I know,” the Sheriff heaves a hand in front of him. “I remember what you said the other day. I also remember what I saw after you and Scott left.”

Derek stares at the Sheriff, breath caught on his throat.

“I don’t want him to slip away from me,” the Sheriff continues. “That day I met a new side of my son. It was terrifying to see how much he has grown and what he did for people he barely knew. At night, I felt blessed that even after all the horrors he was still alive, but I also felt proud.”

Derek nods without looking at the Sheriff, his eyes fixed on the coffee.

“What you and Scott did was brave,” the Sheriff says after a pause. Derek gapes at him in disbelief. “I’m a police officer, I saw how you were both struggling,” he shrugs and takes another sip.

“It wasn’t easy.”

“My son is not easy,” the Sheriff lets out a small chuckle and Derek smiles shyly. Stiles is definitely not easy. “I appreciate the effort, but you need to undo your decision.”

“What?!” Derek asks louder than he intended to, making the people inside the coffee shop to stare at them for a while.

Once they turn back to their lives, the Sheriff coughs and replies, “Perhaps you can reconsider it. Maybe settle a few rules. I will lock him up if necessary,” he jokes but his face turns serious seconds later. “I don’t want to hear any more lies from my son. And I know him well enough to know that he won’t accept your decision. I don’t want to see you bring me his body because you couldn’t protect him.”

“I—“

“I would prefer knowing that he can count on you and Scott if anything happens.”

“Of course he can. This was never something to—”

“I know,” the Sheriff interrupts him. “Scott and Stiles are quite a pair. Not even an earthquake could separate those two. But they’re just kids,” the Sheriff abruptly stops to look at him. “I’m sorry, I forgot you’re a kid too,” he sighs.

“I’m twenty four, sir.”

“You’re still a kid,” there’s fondness on his eyes that Derek can’t argue with.

“Just— Keep me informed if something is putting you all in danger again. I don’t want to be kept in the dark this time.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let that happen. Stiles— Your son wouldn’t want to put you in danger and, honestly, I don’t think there’s much—“

“Derek, this is my duty. I’m not a teenager you will be ordering about what I can and can’t do. I don’t care what you are, but I’m still the Sheriff of this town. I’m still Stiles’ father and I will do whatever is necessary to protect him.”

Derek nods slowly.

The Sheriff momentarily checks his watch and then turns his gaze back at him, “Will you go back on your decision? I will make sure to do my part as a parent.”

“It sounds like you’re doing a pact with the devil.”

The Sheriff smiles, “Not the devil. A pact with the person who cares enough about my son to save his life while risking theirs.”

Derek holds his coffee mug harder than necessary, tensing with each word.

“I’ll talk to him and the rest of the pack,” he says.

“Good,” the Sheriff finishes his coffee and gets ready to leave. “Now if you excuse me, I have a town to get back to.”

“How—,” Derek whispers, unsure of the question about to come out, “Is he okay? I mean… Stiles. How is he?”

The Sheriff looks down at him, “Alone,” he tells him. The word vibrates like a thunder in Derek’s heart. “He feels alone, but he’s better, healthy. Going back to school is going to be good for him.”

Derek nods and drops his gaze to his cold and almost untouched coffee.

“I’ll see you around, Derek.”

The Sheriff pats his shoulder briefly and leaves after waving goodbye to the waitress.

Derek doesn’t stay for long either. He drives around town for an hour, mimicking the turmoil inside his mind. When he finally comes to a stop, he’s right where his thoughts always end. With an invisible fist holding his heart, he steps out of the car and walks with heavy steps. There are still bloodstains on the porch that make Derek stare for far too long, remembering that night. Even if they fade away, the images will prevail. Another reminder of how the people he loves can be easily taken away from him.

He tries to breathe as he stands in front of the familiar white door.

Chapter Text

***

Stiles is lying on his bed playing some classic old games he found on a website, when he hears the doorbell. His immediate reaction is to frown and look at the window where the blinds are still closed. That’s odd, he thinks. Stiles checks his cell phone: no messages. Surely Scott wouldn’t come here unannounced after everything, would he? Reluctantly, he places the laptop aside and gets up.

“I’m coming!” He yells from upstairs as he gets his lacrosse stick. Old habits die hard. Stiles is not risking it.

The house is so silent that it’s kind of scary, except that it’s day outside. Stiles needs to man up; a few weeks at the hospital and he’s already paranoid and has the urge to sweat at the smallest things. But when all of his friends should be at school right now, someone ringing at his door is reason enough to be alarmed. Unless it’s Mrs. Walker. With Cake. Or chocolate cookies. And now he feels stupid for being scared of cookies.

He lets a ragged breath out as he approaches the door. He peaks outside and—

“Oh my God, what the hell are you doing here?!”

“Stiles, we need to talk,” Stiles glares at the door and Derek’s muffled voice on the other side.

“We have nothing to talk about. Go away.”

There’s a moment of silence where Stiles just stands there staring at the door, like it’s going to explode at any moment. Oh my God, he wouldn’t break it, would he?! Derek wouldn’t—

“I can hear your heartbeat, Stiles.”

Stupid werewolves.

“I bet it’s saying, and I quote: Go. Away.”

“Fine.”

His heart clenches as he listens to Derek’s steps walk further and further away from the porch, from him. He’s so fucking lame for letting himself feel like this when he didn’t even look at his face. It’s no surprise that Derek left; of course he left. Stiles is the one who pushes, the one who crawls. Well, screw that.

The grip on his lacrosse stick softens, but he doesn’t drop it when he steps forward to the door. He peaks again and there are no signs of Derek. He wants to laugh at himself for even thinking that— Well, it’s a joke only he understands.

He then remembers the bloodstains on the porch floor that he told himself he would try to clean, but completely forgot. Of course Derek saw them and the thought makes him his stomach burn mixed with a lump on his throat that he can’t swallow. Why did he even come here?

Stiles sighs as he slowly opens the door and drops his gaze to the floor. He stares at the bloodstains right in front of him, until a shadow to his left gets his attention and— “Holy shit!” He pulls the lacrosse stick to his chest, like that’s going to do anything for him now, but the thought must count for something. Derek doesn’t even flinch from where he’s leaning against the wall, hands buried on his pockets.

“A lacrosse stick. Really?” He raises an eyebrow at Stiles.

“You scared the shit out of me!” Stiles shouts.

Derek drops his gaze to the floor and says, “Sorry.”

Stiles can’t help feeling pathetic. He’s still holding his very manly weapon against someone he’s not physically scared of. Not even slightly. He should be, maybe, but he’s not. Derek is not scary, even when he tries to be. The weapon doesn’t do him any good to protect his heart either.

“What do you want, Derek?” Stiles asks, less bitter than he intended to.

“I want to talk to you,” Derek replies.

“About what?! I think you said enough already.”

Derek does move with that, making Stiles flinch and stumble back like the beast just woke up and is ready to attack him. Stiles makes a mental note to place his stupid heart in a little box and buy the most expensive locks in the world.

“I’m sorry,” Derek says.

“Yeah? Well, you are too fucking late.”

“I know,” his voice sounds so vulnerable and it makes Stiles wince and clench the stick harder with his sweaty hands, his feet getting ready to flee inside.

Just go away, just please go away, I can’t see you looking like this.

“Derek… Just leave. Leave me alone. I can’t—“

And he really can’t. He can’t stand looking at those hazel eyes filled with emotions he can’t place. Stiles mentally slaps himself for actually thinking, even if for just a second, that Derek’s eyes seem to mirror exactly what he’s feeling.

Absurd, so absurd. Don’t go down that road again, Stiles.

You will get hurt.

Again.

He’s tired of feeling like his heart is standing on a cliff every time he sees or thinks of Derek. Especially when Derek seems to always be holding him there, not really letting him fall or go back. It’s exhausting.

Stiles breathes out, drops the lacrosse stick to his side and goes back inside. He doesn’t bother to close the door behind him, overly aware at the invitation.

His body doesn’t flinch when he sets foot on the stairs and listens to the door close.

Derek follows him upstairs.

***

Stiles sits on the bed while Derek lingers by the door and stops in his tracks once Stiles turns to stare at him.

“Five minutes,” he says. “And you better not be here to ask me anything,” Stiles pauses, “unless someone is dying. But even then I shouldn’t help you.”

Derek nods slowly and then stops to look around his dark room. Stiles promptly gets up again to pull the blinds. Derek and him in the dark? It’s definitely something he doesn’t need right now. Not when they are always tripping and crashing with each other. Light, he needs light.

“How are you?” Derek startles him while he’s opening the window.

“I give you five minutes and you ask me that?” It’s harsh, he knows that, but he can’t help it. “Just say whatever you came here to say and leave.”

Derek closes his eyes, “Stiles,” he breathes out. “I care about you. Is that so hard to believe?”

It’s not, Stiles thinks. But he doesn’t say anything, just walks to the bed and sits without facing Derek.

“I talked to your father,” Derek says after a moment of silence.

“What?!” Stiles stands up again. “What the— How? Why?!” Anger seeps into Stiles’ voice, “Derek, are you insane?!”

“Calm down, Stiles.”

“Calm down,” he repeats with a cold laughter. “How do you want me to calm down when you just do whatever you want to?! You come here at night and decide to talk to me about things that happened two years ago,” he balls his fists. “Then you come into my house invited and tell me you don’t need me—“

“Stiles.”

“No, no. And no! You can’t just do that and then go and talk with my father! Who gave you that right? When did you woke up and decided to just ruin my life?!”

“He was the one who talked to me!” Derek shouts, making Stiles stumble back.

He’s furious, he’s so fucking furious. Why is everyone always leaving him behind? Lately, it’s like he’s always in the dark. Like he can’t make his own decisions and live his own life. Scott, his father, Derek and fuck— sometimes even Lydia! It’s like everyone decided to make him a project. Something that they need to fix.

There’s no fixing. Not anymore.

“Why would he even come talk to you?” Stiles asks.

“He’s worried about you,” Derek says, his voice incredibly lower this time.

Stiles snorts, “Don’t you think I know that?”

“We need rules,” Stiles frowns at Derek’s sudden words. “I don’t want you walking around alone in the woods anymore. Every time there’s something dangerous out there, you’ll stay here. You will have to learn how to stand by my orders, I mean it Stiles. And that includes staying behind when I say so. If something happens to us, you and your father go to the Argents. If—“

“What is this?”

“Rules.”

“I can see that. Why?”

Derek stares at him like he’s searching for words. “I want to keep you safe. Especially if you’re going to be in my pack.”

Stiles looks at him with wide eyes.

“Wh— Why? Was it my father? Did my father went to— Oh my God,” he brings a hand to his hair and paces around the room. “I can’t believe this.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Stiles turns his head and looks directly into Derek’s eyes, “No! I want you to want me in your pack. Aren’t you suppose to be the almighty alpha?!” Stiles mocks him, almost, but he can’t stand how Derek can be so blind. Or he just doesn’t try to understand him. It’s like they’re back to the beginning.

He watches Derek’s face close off, lips pursed tight in frustration.

“I should go,” Derek finally says and Stiles’ stomach twists in disappointment. “Your five minutes are up, “ Derek pauses. “But if you allow me to stay… I can prove to you that I want you in my pack.”

Stiles’ breath hitches, but he still manages to nod in agreement. Derek takes a few steps to where he’s standing and slowly grabs his wrist, like he’s scared that Stiles might run. The touch is soft and tender, but it sends sparks to his entire body, burning his insides. It’s a simple gesture that sucks all the anger from him.

Pity, he should pity himself for not fighting. He should fight it, snap out of it. But it’s futile. Stiles surrenders to Derek’s touch because he’s always craving for it. He can barely feel the rough fingertips touching right at the edge of his pulse, but it’s enough to anchor him back to a time and place where they work together. The long research hours, the banter, the exchange of smiles, the team accomplishments, and even the silly fights. He misses it. Everything around them was hard and painful, but they were easy. Everything seems just so complicated right now, like they’re trapped inside a maze, never going on the right direction and always, always, colliding. Stiles just wants a way out.

Derek makes them both sit on the bed, letting go of Stiles’ wrist. The lack of contact puts him on defence again. He already misses it.

“It’s true,” Derek starts. “Your father, Scott; everyone has been telling me we can make this work like we always did. But they didn’t—,” Derek stops to breathe like the words are hurting him. “They didn’t saw you that night, gasping for air and bleeding through your mouth. I can’t— That night is still too…”

“I heard you that night,” Stiles says and Derek turns to look at him with wide eyes. A look that always scares Stiles; how those hazel green eyes stare right into his heart and don’t flinch. His curtain falls in moments like this, leaving him out in the open stage for Derek to see. The moments where he wants to be honest with Derek, and mostly with himself.

“You called me… I heard you calling my name,” Stiles voice is shaky when he drops his gaze. “I couldn’t remember when I woke up, but after a few days… Things started to get back to me. I remember you calling me. I think… I think it helped me to stay,” he laughs nervously. “Crazy, right?”

Stiles fidgets with his hands when silence falls. After a while, he finally dares to lift his head and look at Derek, who’s staring at him. It makes Stiles feel like—

“I— I thought about what you said,” Stiles says, “that night.”

He can feel how Derek tenses beside him, “What about?”

“And also about the part where you don’t want me in your pack.”

“Stiles.”

“No, now you need to listen,” he tells him with the best firm voice he can pull off right now at the edge of finally falling down that cliff. “You are not the only person who lost someone,” he tries not to stutter at the words and completely avoids whatever look Derek is throwing him right now. “It sucks big time when you can’t do anything, even when you want to. I know that. I can’t imagine losing any of you. I don’t want to stay home and hear from someone else that one of my friends is dead. I already feel useless enough without any of your cool super powers, I don’t need to feel like shit because I know I could have done something and I didn’t,” he pauses. “I thought about it… the bite,” he regrets it as soon as is out there. “I mean when Peter offered me—“

“What?!” Derek stands up in a millisecond.

The sudden movement scares him. “What what?! What now?”

“Peter offered you the bite?” Derek asks like the words are burning in his mouth.

“Yes. And as you can see I said no. That was like years ago!”

“When? When did he—”

“The time you were captured by the hunters.”

There’s a long pause between them while they stare into each other.

“And you said no.”

“I said no.”

Even with the jacket, Stiles can see how Derek’s shoulders relax.

“Do you trust me?” Stiles can’t help to ask.

“I do,” and it surprises him how Derek doesn’t hesitate. His voice is clear and loud, like it’s obvious. Maybe it is, but after everything this is something that Stiles just needs to know. To hear.

“You need to stop trying to protect me all the time,” he says.

“You know I can’t do that,” Derek retorts.

“Do I?” Stiles scoffs. “Is it because I’m human? Fragile? Useless?!”

“I meant every word I said that night,” Derek replies instead. “Every word, Stiles. I don’t regret it.” Stiles averts his eyes from Derek, like the mere thought of looking at Derek right now will suddenly break him. The gesture must affect Derek enough when he adds, “I didn’t lie.”

The implication of Derek’s words sends a shiver through his spine. He should feel great, even happy, but there’s a question left hanging in the air that Stiles can’t ignore. He tried to many times before, but it keeps coming back.

“Would you?” Stiles murmurs.

“Would I what?”

“Would you give me the bite?”

“No.”

“Whoa, that was fast,” he huffs. “Why not?”

“It may kill you.”

“It may not.”

“I’m not going to discuss this with you,” Derek says.

“Clearly,” he sighs.

“Stiles, I— I would. Probably. If the situation asked for it.”

“Like if I was dying? Because, that night, I almost did.”

Derek frowns, “Are you mad that I didn’t give you the bite that night? Is that it?!”

“What? No, I just want to know why! You gave the bite to a bunch of teenagers without hesitating. So, why not? Why not me?”

“I—,” Derek looks restless, like a prey trapped in a corner.

Silence falls while Stiles watches Derek more uncomfortable as ever.

“Relax. I don’t want it,” he finally says. “I just… I want to be in the pack and help. I can’t stand to think that one day I might lose you all. Sometimes I think about how easier it would be. Just— I could have done so much more. For Scott, for you,” Stiles pauses to look at how his hands are trembling, mimicking his heart. “I just want to be able to protect you all. I— I want to protect you. Derek, I—“

“I like you,” Derek blurts out. “As you are. Human,” his voice raw and vulnerable.

Stiles jerks his head to look at Derek, air suddenly too thick.

“I don’t want to give you the bite, because you’re human,” Derek says. “I like you this way”, he repeats, making Stiles’ heart speed up. “You— You already do too much. You are always there for us. You’re loyal and brave. You saved us countless of times, Stiles,“ he pauses. “And you’re human. You’re… you.”

Stiles swallows and fails to say anything. Anything at all. His mind is blank.

“I don’t want you to change,” Derek sighs. “And to think that Peter threatened you, I—“

“He didn’t,” Stiles says quietly.

“No, he did. You don’t understand. He—“ Derek paces in front of him, coming to a stop and turning his back to face the window. “That night, when he— when I was inside that well, he threaten you. You, your father, the whole pack... I couldn’t— It didn’t matter where I was and how I was. The thought of him hurting you all gave me enough strength to kill him. Again,” Derek sighs. “It wasn’t about me or power. It wasn’t—,” he turns to look at Stiles. “I was petrified of what could have happened to you if you were there.”

It’s probably the first time Derek is telling this to anyone. Stiles remembers how Scott was completely clueless about what happened between Derek and Peter. He doesn’t even have the guts to ask what Peter could possibly have said to make Derek feel this way. His broad shoulders are not enough to make him look strong. Each word carries a fragile emotion, making Derek look smaller than he really is.

Stiles wonders if he’s being fair at all. All this time he’s been missing the bigger picture. Maybe he’s the blind one. He understands the despair in each one of Derek’s words. This is the person who lost his entire family and keeps seeing everyone around him in danger. His instinct is to protect them no matter what. The green hazel eyes that stare at Stiles are begging him to understand.

And he does.

Stiles understands that urge to protect.

“I was scared of losing you that day,” Stiles says and maybe it was the right thing to say despite his doubts, because Derek’s eyes don’t look cold and breakable anymore. He steps forward from the window.

“I know,” Derek says softly as he sits again next to Stiles.

Stiles face heats up and his heart races, “I— I need you to be safe.“

Maybe this is wrong. Maybe he will regret it tomorrow. And maybe they will crash again like they always do. But Derek needs to know it’s not just him who’s terrified of losing someone. Stiles may not know how it feels to lose that many people at once, but just one is enough to shatter your whole world. He can’t imagine a world without his father, Scott, all of his friends. Derek. Stiles knows how his world would become empty and lifeless without Derek.

The thought makes him feel like someone is smashing his heart. Funny thing is, right now in this room, Stiles is the one that is doing it to himself because of his unrequited feelings; the insecurities of getting hurt or just making Derek leave his world for good. But as scary as that is, losing Derek without him knowing is much more terrifying.

On the day he heard that Derek was missing, Stiles kept thinking: Does he know? Does he know that I care? Does he know that he’s not alone? Does he know that I would do anything to save him? Does he know that I’ve been in love with him for so long? Does he?!

And his mind would always retaliate. Yes, he does. Of course he does. You saved him when you didn’t need to. You helped him when you didn’t need to. You held him for so long until you couldn’t anymore. You risked your life for his. He knows.

But there’s a voice inside his heart that keeps coming back.

He doesn’t know.

Stiles inhales sharply.

“You are important to me too,” he starts.

Chapter Text

***

Stiles’ heartfelt words silence him. Derek can’t take his eyes from him, can’t stop himself from engraving each word into his mind. Sounds, feelings and confessions that tug his heartstrings. Whiskey eyes that don’t meet his, but Derek can still see how they’re warm and bright. He can almost touch the panic waves coming from Stiles, but it’s mesmerizing at the same time to see how those eyes reflect happiness and relief.

“I like you,” Stiles murmurs at the end.

It’s not a lie, despite how Stiles’ mouth trembles at the words and how his heart seems like it’s going to rip his chest at any second. Derek knows it’s not a lie.

“I don’t mean it in a— you know,” Stiles waves his hands between them. “I like—Oh my God, just kill me now,” he buries his face into his hands.

“Stiles,” Derek calls him.

“You know what I mean, right?” Stiles asks, eyes still facing the floor. Derek fights the urge to make him look at him, but the touch might be too much; too much for him.

Trust, you must trust him, Derek thinks.

“Yes,” he replies.

Stiles grunts something he can’t understand. “I’m sorry. I just had to— you’re probably feeling disgusted right now and… I understand. In fact, you should probably just leave.”

Derek widens his eyes and then he can’t help to laugh. And when Stiles glances up to look at him, Derek freezes. He looks petrified.

“Stiles,” he whispers softly, but Stiles’ expression doesn’t change.

“Are you— are you laughing at me?! Because that’s the worst thing—“

“No,” he smiles. “Give me your hand.”

Stiles narrows his eyes. For a moment Derek doesn’t know if Stiles will just start shouting at him, making them inevitably crash once more. So Derek extends his hand and waits. He can wait, as long as it takes. They’re so close right now, literally and figuratively. Derek can wait.

Reluctantly, Stiles gives him his hand. Derek watches his fingers tremble before the touch and the image seems to take over his mind. They’re not easy, never were. But Derek wants to make this easy, for him and for Stiles. This should be easy after the many hardships of their lives. Painless, after the crashes and fights they had. Simple, because there are no expectations. Effortless, because it’s easy to love someone who’s constantly in his thoughts, in his skin, in his heart. It’s easy because it’s Stiles. It’s easy because the world feels right when Derek grabs Stiles’ hand with a strong grip.

“I would never laugh at what you just said,” Derek says.

“But you did and if this is some kind of pity way of saying—“

“No, I laughed because you keep surprising me. In the best ways,” he clarifies and after a while adds, “Your heart is beating really fast. I know what you’re feeling, how you smell and how each word you said was true.”

Stiles tries to break free from Derek’s grip. But Derek doesn’t let go of his hand. He can see how much Stiles is blushing and fighting to not even look at him.

“Look at me,” Derek says.

“It’s not fair,” Stiles whispers, his eyes glancing at their joined hands.

“I know,” Derek replies and puts Stiles’ hand on his chest, right where his heart is. Beating just as fast as Stiles’. Maybe even more.

Stiles’ ragged breath mixes with the sound of their heartbeats.

“Look at me,” Derek pleads again.

This time Stiles does; widen, glittering, brown eyes that don’t settle. It makes Derek notice how close they’re standing to each other. He can see from this short distance how Stiles’ chest quickly rises and falls as if he’s desperately trying to get some air in his lungs.

Inevitably, Derek’s heart beats faster.

“I— I don’t understand,” Stiles says.

“Me neither,” Derek lets himself smile. “I can hardly explain it, but here’s what I do know,” he holds Stiles’ hand even tighter against his chest. “You. Everything about you. The good and the bad… You got under my skin and my thoughts. Somehow, one day, it spread beyond that. A warmth that I can feel inside my heart; the heart you have on the palm of your hand.”

Stiles drops his gaze to Derek’s chest where Derek is tightly holding his hand there. He starts to slowly move his fingers, slightly brushing Derek’s shirt. Both of their hearts skip a beat.

Derek waits for him to look back at him, “A warmth that dictates my actions. Even when I don’t want to. Even when I shouldn’t let it happen. But it compels me. Something stronger than anything I ever felt,” he sighs deeply. “Something I’m scared to lose because I know I won’t find it in anyone else,” his heart shakes in his chest. “I can’t lose you,” his voice sounds broken. “It was excruciating to see you vanish in my arms, disappearing from my life,” Derek feels the slight press of Stiles fingers and closes his eyes. “I don’t believe in many things. But I do believe in people’s actions and what I see. I don’t believe in halfhearted feelings. But I do believe in this. Because I can feel it,” he opens his eyes and both of their gazes meet.

“You can feel it too, right?” Derek asks.

Stiles doesn’t say anything. He nods slowly, incredibly slowly. His heart keeps racing and his eyes keep traveling between Derek’s face and their joined hands. But Stiles is also extremely still, it’s unsettling. Maybe this was wrong, Derek thinks. The thought scares him. It sends him back to that pool, where the spoken words were the wrong ones and all the others were left unsaid. Trust. His mind travels to memories that don’t seem to let him go. Burned memories that remind him of how it feels to give every part of himself to someone. It hurts and it breaks him. Until—

Stiles turns his hand around his and grabs it. His eyes are now fixed on their entangled fingers. Derek glances down and stares. Despite the rush of his heart, the image feels right to him. It feels right. This can’t be wrong, nothing here can be wrong. If this is wrong, he needs to find a way to fix it, to mend it and prove the world that this is right. And when Stiles tightens his fingers in Derek’s hands, he stops being scared.

This is the person who never leaves him alone. He comes back and is able to catch him every time. Everything feels like it’s supposed to be, because this is someone who makes his heart feel safe. Like now, Stiles catches Derek from his thoughts and fears. He stops him in his tracks; stops him from running down that path again. Stiles makes him stay.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles says. Their eyes meet and Derek fears this is the time where Stiles will finally turn his back. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t expecting it. But it’s fine now. As long as he doesn’t fade from his life, it’s fine. It’s fine…

Derek loosens his hand, but Stiles doesn’t let him let go. His hold gets stronger, almost like he’s forcing their hands to remain connected. Stiles’ eyes travel back to their hands, he licks his lips and determination takes over his face when he meets Derek’s gaze again.

“I believe in feelings,” he starts. “I have to believe it. I have to believe in a lot of things after everything… I also believe in actions,” he plays with their intertwined fingers. “I also believe in you, in this—“, he moves their hands up where both of them can see it.

The silence drags for far too long. It’s almost painfully quiet, maybe for both or maybe just for Derek, he guesses. They are still holding hands and Stiles makes sure to have them right in front of their eyes, like a reminder that this is real. And then he’s grinning.

Stiles’ smile grows until he stars laughing.

“What?” Derek asks, but he can’t help to feel overwhelmed by the sound of it.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” but he keeps smiling. He smells… “I’m just glad, happy even,” Stiles’ whole face beams.

Derek has seen him smile, sometimes because of others, but mostly from Stiles’ own jokes, like he’s afraid people won’t find them funny if he doesn’t smile. But this; this is different. His lips don’t just curve; he’s smiling with his mouth open wide and all teeth. A genuine laugh he can’t control. His eyes wrinkle at the edges and shine as if he’s about to cry with joy. It’s beautiful and mesmerizing. Derek stares and maybe if he tries hard enough he may save this moment in his mind forever. Keep the image and watch it play again when one of his nightmares strikes again. Or simply because he can. Because this smile is just for him; only he can hear his warm laughter fill the room; only he can feel how their hands hold steady as Stiles leans forward and kisses him.

Stiles is still smiling and chuckling when he presses his lips against Derek’s. It’s a chaste kiss, soft and too fast. When Stiles pulls back, Derek wants to grab him but he’s too dazzled by it, shocked with wide eyes. Stiles freezes when he realizes what he just did.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I— Oh God. I wasn’t thinking! I’m so sor—“

But Derek doesn’t let him finish. With their hands still tied, he pushes Stiles and cups his face with his other hand, lets his thumb stroke his cheekbone and looks straight into his eyes.

“Please don’t say anything.”

They’re only a few inches apart, but Derek waits. He waits for Stiles to look at his eyes, he waits for Stiles to lick his own lips and stare at Derek’s. He waits for Stiles to gasp for air. He waits for Stiles heartbeat to speed up. He waits. Derek waits, because he could wait a lot more. He waits until Stiles nods and lets the tip of their noses brush.

Derek doesn’t have to wait anymore; he brings their hands to his heart again and kisses Stiles.

Everything makes sense as their lips crash together. The world vanishes around them and all that matters now is Stiles and how his soft lips feel and taste. How Stiles grabs his shirt like he’s pulling his heart out of him, claiming it for him and him only. And Derek lets his hand slide from Stiles face to the nape of his neck and tugs him even closer. Stiles hums and smiles in his mouth, teeth slightly brushing against his bottom lip. Derek’s tongue presses slightly until Stiles opens his mouth. It’s too much, too warm, too good. Stiles rushes his other hand to grasp Derek’s hair and he lets himself drown in everything he’s feeling right now. He gets lost in every single touch; in every single hot panted breath; in every single moment his tongue twists against Stiles’; in every single sound and heartbeat that leaves him drunk; in Stiles, mostly in Stiles.

Derek gets lost, but Stiles holds him every time; holds him like he has been drifting around too. It’s an anchor that Derek is not willing to let go; a jolt of happiness that makes Derek smile and Stiles can’t help to return with one of his own. They stop kissing, as their smiles get wider. Derek rests his forehead on Stiles’ and for a long time they just look into each other, smiling and panting.

Derek doesn’t know when he fell in love with Stiles. Between their fights, the life threats and the long days of research, something happened. Something that he didn’t realize it would ever happen again. Not to him. He doesn’t remember the first thing he felt when he saved Stiles for the first time. He doesn’t remember the first time he defended Stiles even when he wasn’t around. He doesn’t remember the first time he started to seek his company. He doesn’t remember when Stiles turned his crappy life into something worth living for. He doesn’t remember when, how and why. But he does remember how he felt every time Stiles saved him. He remembers the first time Stiles made him laugh. He remembers his misery the first time Stiles made him sad. He remembers why Stiles touched his shoulder to comfort him. He remembers feeling jealous of seeing Stiles with Lydia. He remembers when, how and why they met; but only now it feels like he’s returning home.

He leans into Stiles’ neck and his heart races faster when he listens to Stiles laugh. Derek breathes him in, smiles and kisses him softly on the moles around his neck. Stiles' smell is sweet and spicy and fresh like the rain. He doesn’t smell like blood or ash or hospitals. He’s safe, here and at his reach, to touch, to kiss, to protect.

“Derek?”

“Hmm?”

He drops one more kiss where two of Stiles’ moles are right next to each other.

“I really like you,” Stiles says softly and Derek doesn’t need to see him to know he’s smiling when he wraps his arms around Derek’s back.

“Me too,” Derek says as he closes his eyes.

“Really?”

The question makes him lift his head to look at Stiles properly.

“Really.”

The kiss is clumsy because both of them can’t stop smiling. But at the same time it’s perfect and everything Derek could wish for.

***

A week later, they all get together at Derek and Isaac’s house to celebrate Stiles’ birthday.

Despite Lydia’s disapproval, this was the only thing that Stiles’ begged her for. But she still wanted to take care of everything, resulting in her crashing there every single day after school. The worst part was that Stiles couldn’t come with her.

“Of course he can’t come, Derek,” she told him. “It’s his party! It’s supposed to surprise him. You can go visit him at his house and leave everything to me,” which scared him deeply. But the others would arrive later to tag along too, meaning he could actually be alone with Stiles.

Derek thought he knew Stiles, but the truth is there was much more to learn about him. During the last week, he learned how Stiles remains quiet when he’s studying. The amount of notes from his classmates and papers from his teachers all spread around the bed, while Stiles is quietly writing on his computer or reading a book. He also learned which music Stiles listens to, his favorite bands, his favorite songs, and his guilty pleasures. He learned more about Stiles during these days than in two years. It was fascinating and scary at the same time.

Before the big day, Derek drove Stiles to the hospital to take out the rest of his stitches, since his father couldn’t go with him. It was the first time he saw Stiles shirtless and it was going to take him some time to forget that scar and how Stiles hissed with the pain. But it helped to see it. To remind him of what he almost lost. Stiles kicked him in the knee saying he was scowling too much, while he was the one in physical pain. A grin splattered on his face, until the nurse took the next stitch and he was screeching again.

That night Derek and Scott had dinner with Stiles and the Sheriff. At first it was awkward and silent, but then Stiles— well, by now Derek realized that Stiles was a master in turning a awkward situation into something even more awful and weird.

“Next time we should eat chicken,” he said with his mouth full. All of them turned to look at him, expectantly. A terrible decision. “Because then we can eat with our hands. Meat, little bones. That should make you two more comfortable,” he joked while pointing at Scott and Derek, who glared at him.

“How many bad dog jokes does he play on you two?” The Sheriff asked.

“You have no idea,” Scott said, laughing.

“They’re not bad!”

“No,” Derek said and waited for Stiles to look at him, a smile plastered on his face. “They’re terrible,” he smiled back and everyone on the table laughed. Except for Stiles.

They didn’t tell the Sheriff about them, not yet, they decided. Stiles wasn’t ready and it was too early for someone who just learned about werewolves. But Stiles said he wouldn’t lie to him either if his father questioned him. Derek agreed.

But today, they tell their friends.

They already knew.

“What?! But how? We’ve been—“

“Please, your sudden happiness and constant afternoons with Derek were obvious enough,” Lydia tells him.

“That’s because you told me to stay home!”

“Well, obviously the fact that you’ve been crushing on him forever doesn’t help your secret.”

“I—“

“Really?” Derek asks, smiling.

“Oh please, like you’re the one to talk. You’ve been pinning for him for God knows how long!” Erica scolds him and Derek shoots her a fierce glare.

“Wow, really?” Stiles face beams.

“It got clearer after a while,” Scott says.

“You knew?!” Allison asks him.

“Yeah, Derek told me. You knew too?”

“I didn’t tell you anything!” Derek shouts at the same time as Allison says, “Stiles told me.”

“Well, at least they didn’t know,” Stiles mutters and points with his head at Isaac, Boyd, Danny and Jackson.

“Come on, Stilinski, if Scott knew, I knew too,” Jackson scoffs and Lydia smacks his head.

“Lydia!” Stiles snaps and Lydia gives him an apologetic look.

“I think it was obvious,” Isaac shrugs and Boyd nods.

“Jackson told me,” Danny adds.

“Oh great, so everyone knew except us,” Stiles says.

“You can’t blame us for your lack of communication,” Lydia points out.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” Allison says, smiling widely at them.

Later, Stiles gets distracted playing a game with Boyd, while Derek is dragged out of the living room by Scott.

“Why am I here?” Jackson asks, gritting his teeth.

“To emphasize our point,” Lydia replies.

“And why am I here?” Derek glares at them. They sit him on his own bed and close the door. Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson and Danny surround him. They all stare at Derek.

“To have the talk, what do you think?” Lydia says, hands on her hips. “Go on, Scott. Be a man.”

Scott snorts, “Okay,” he turns to Derek. “If you hurt him, we’ll do worse.”

“That’s it? That’s the best you can do?” Lydia insists.

“What do you want me to say?!”

She sighs, “If you hurt him, I’ll make sure that every liquid you drink contains the most dangerous kind of wolfsbane you ever tasted. I will circle your house with mountain ash and leave you starving for days. I will make Jackson throw your car from a cliff—“

“Don’t involve me on this!” Jackson barks.

“I can handle that,” Derek teases.

“Derek, we mean it. You can’t hurt him,” Scott scolds.

“You know I will,” he says, serious this time. “I’ll ruin him, he knows that. He will ruin me too, I know that. But,” he pauses to stand up in front of Scott, “I promise to stay by his side.”

Allison puts a hand on Scott’s shoulder, who turns to look at her. She nods and smiles. When his gaze turns to Derek again, his face is not playful anymore.

“I won’t forgive you,” Scott tells him.

“I won’t forgive myself either,” Derek replies.

It’s enough, for now it’s enough.

***

After the sun sets, Derek and Stiles find themselves alone in the kitchen, while the rest of their friends are all watching a movie in the living room, thanks to a big screen TV that Lydia brought in.

Stiles eats more of his birthday cake, while Derek washes some of the dishes.

“Did they talk to you?” Stiles asks between bites.

Derek chuckles, “Yeah.”

“I will have to run the whole preserve ten times per day naked until your betas think I’ve had enough. Somehow I think that means for life. You?”

“Wolfsbane, mountain ash, my car destroyed and Scott will probably never look at me again.”

“Hmm,” Stiles murmurs, “That doesn’t sound too bad. I should talk to them,” he grins.

“Funny,” Derek says while cleaning his hands. He wraps his arms around Stiles and nuzzles his neck. “It feels good.”

“What? Being threatened?” Stiles laughs, letting some pieces of cake fall to the floor.

“To have people who care.”

“Oh.” Stiles turns to look at him. Derek settles his hands on his hips, while he watches Stiles lick his fingers covered in cake. “I care too. You know that, right?”

Derek smiles, “I do.”

“And if you do hurt me, which you won’t,” Stiles pokes his chest, “I will still care, but I’ll punish you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup,” he grins and Derek leans forward to steal his smile.

“That’s too kinky even for you, Stilinski,” Jackson shouts.

Stiles mutters something about werewolves against his lips, while the rest yell at Jackson about privacy, but Derek doesn’t care.

***

At night the party changes according to the group of teenagers Derek is harboring tonight. There’s loud music, booze, junk food and silly games that he tries not to play.

Later when everyone leaves, Isaac and Stiles are sprawled on the couch playing a karts game. Derek watches them silently. Honestly, he doesn’t know where Stiles is getting all of his energy. Even Isaac is almost drifting off, causing him to lose the game.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Stiles asks, not really looking at him.

Derek frowns in wonder, but replies, “If you want to.”

Stiles’ bright eyes turn to him, his heart speeding up, “Nice, I’ll call my dad.”

Isaac stares at Derek as soon as Stiles leaves the room, “I’m going to my room. Don’t you dare to wake me up.” And Derek suppresses a laugh.

***

It’s only when they’re both holding each other under the sheets that Derek gives Stiles his birthday present. Something that he never gave to anyone. Something that he doesn’t want to give to anyone else except Stiles. Something that hasn’t belonged to him for some time.

“I love you.”

Stiles’ heart speeds up and Derek reaches a hand to Stiles’ chest, to keep it there, to steady him. It’s not Derek’s birthday and even if it was, he doesn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t deserve Stiles’ heart, but Stiles gives it anyway.

“I love you too.”