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1.
Stiles was dying. She was damn sure about it. She knew how it felt, after all, she’d been to the brink of death a couple of times already. (Remember the god freezing tube? And the nogitsune possession almost taking her too? Yeah. Fun times.) The problem was that nothing from the outside was trying to kill her. (That the nogitsune was actually inside of her didn’t count because it had been out before it went in. Shut up. It made sense in her head.) The problem was internal this time. She was literally bleeding out. Painfully.
A pain that hadn’t been there the first three years of her fucking period. It was like her body had decided it had gone too long without hurting, so it was hurting itself now. Damned supernatural life that created a Pavlovian effect on her body. Stiles groaned loudly and thumped her head against her desk a couple of times. Careful not to move any other part of herself and also avoiding her laptop. The worst thing was that she couldn’t take anything to release her abdominal and infuriating pain because she wasn’t sure if it would mess up with her Adderall. Not like she had any meds for cramps at all in her house. Because, again, this hadn’t ever happened before.
Maybe she was dying after all. It was an unprecedented pain. Maybe she should call someone. Melissa, or Lydia, or Kira, or Malia. They would know. One’s a nurse, the other a genius, and the other two baddasses. But all four were women. They had to know about this, right? Right? Because it couldn’t be that weird. Yet she dreaded their answers. What if they knew about it and then it was considered a normal, regular thing to be expected from now on?
She would kill herself. It was that horrible.
She was even starting to lose sense of her legs. They were numb, but the little ants weren’t making an appearance…
Yup. Dying.
The tell-tale of her window opening made her turn slightly her head to it. A shifted werewolf in a leather jacket with bright blue eyes and a five o’clock shadow inspected rapidly her room. That was strange, even for Derek, to just intrude and search with her right over there. She followed him with her eyes and head, without moving an inch. Just as fast Derek stopped, sniffed the air, and frowned confused towards her. But his eyes suddenly were wide open.
“Oh,” he whispered softly. He stretched his hand in an aborted movement, like he planned on petting her, but decided against it. “Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” she narrowed her eyes; still not moving from her slightly bent position over the desk. She felt a little less pain like that. “I feel like, like, remember that time you were impaled by Kali?” Derek nodded wincing. “Imagine that but like five times worse and repeatedly on your abdomen. Then, remember when I- well nogitsune me- stabbed Scott and fed on his pain and moved the sword several times? Add that too, exponentially ten times worse. That’s how I feel.”
Derek crossed his arms, bulging his muscular arms. “Don’t you have pills for these -uh- sort of things?” He blushed.
“You inspected my room. Did you find any? Besides who gave you the right to that, man? Privacy and all that jazz are important to us poor human souls. And even so, can’t you say cramps?” Stiles was not finding flustered Derek adorable. She just wasn’t. No, brain.
Derek glared. But there was no real heat. Not since he evolved. (He freaking literally evolved into a wolf.) He was like a new Derek, all zen and shit. There were smiles. Sincere, genuine, happy smiles. Stiles couldn’t handle the smiles. They were just too beautiful. Glares were normal. Hot, but normal. The smiles made funny things to her she would still deny. The hot too, but, hey, sexual attraction was a quite normal reaction she always had for Derek; and other pretty people, like Lydia.
“I sensed your distress and blood.”
“And you thought the worst?” Derek nodded and glared at the window. “Dude, I thought you were over the paranoia trai- urgh!” Stiles dropped her head from the desk, and bent into herself, trying to make herself littler. The abdominal stabbing decided it was not enough pain and created more.
Doubled over like that she didn’t see Derek approaching her until he kneeled in front of her to catch her eyes. The frowned eyebrows wanted to hug her. And there was the stretched hand again. He was concerned for her out of a supernatural life or death situation; this one still counted like life or death. The thought made her heart thump faster and pushed a soft gasp past her lips. She blamed it on the pain. It had to release some kind of high after so much exposure to it, right? Like…all that excruciating pain leading to some sort of ecstasy? She read that somewhere.
“Stiles.”
She blinked slowly at him. Was that the first time he called out to her? It didn’t seem like it. The eyebrows were closer now and the jaw was a bit clenched.
“Huh? Yeah? What? I’m dying over here.”
Derek huffed and rolled his eyes. A smile trying to make an appearance if that twitch in his mouth was anything to go by. Stiles might die if he decided to smile at her right then and there. It would be too much.
“You’re not dying.”
“Yeah. My pain says otherwise, smarty pants.” Derek sniffed and grimaced. “That looks bad. I’m really dying, aren’t I?”
A strike of fear managed to register in her brain before Derek grabbed softly her face, making her look into the whirlpool of colors that were his eyes.
“You don’t smell like death. I just don’t like the scent of blood. Much less yours. I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.” He looked a bit haunted but shook it off quickly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Stiles gulped. She was purposely ignoring part of his words (Both had seen enough blood for a lifetime. But just what exactly did he mean by disliking hers much less? What?); which by the way were also new. She always knew Derek had a lot to say, but after becoming zen-wolf they started pouring out without effort or prompting. He wasn’t near close as talkative as Stiles, he was still a silent person, but words came naturally to him as well.
“So what do you do every time this time of the month arrives for all women in the pack? Wait, no, in general?”
He shrugged and slowly released her face. “I turn it off.”
Turn it off. Like it was that simple. Just- “Turn it off. Turn it off? Like, you just, shut your nose.” She giggled. Derek smiled lopsidedly and rolled his eyes.
“I focus on other senses and reduce this one.” He tapped her nose to make his point. Which, rude. Stiles got it.
She scrunched her nose at him and opened her mouth with a retort, but, for the life of her, you could not have asked her what it was because a new wave of dreadful pain made her forget. She whimpered and tried to curl more into herself but it was just physically impossible. Not even a contortionist or a yoga expert could do that.
Derek touched her arm after the wave retreated slightly to return her focus to him. He wiggled his fingers at her like he was making jazz hands; she would be making jokes about it if she weren’t hurting so goddamn much. He sighed at the lack of response. “I could take the pain away.”
She blinked a couple of times and gasped. Her eyes warned with developing tears of joy. “You would do that?” she whispered a little awed. No one wanted voluntarily to be in pain. Even when he would heal it away fast, he would feel this horrifying thing inside of her.
He shrugged, looked away briefly, and then back into her eyes. “Yeah.”
She gulped, sniffed, and nodded. “Please.”
He nodded. As Stiles was stretching her arm towards him, he said, “You’ll need to stand up.”
She froze. “What? No. Why? Please, no. It’s worse if I move. Can’t you take it from my arm?”
He shook his head. “It will be faster if I take it from your belly.” He took her frozen mid-air arm and pulled a bit, without any force. “Come on.”
Stiles bit her lip and slowly, so, so slowly, unbent until she was upright facing Derek and gripping his shirt and his arm as if her life depended on it; and right now it totally did. It wasn’t to be closer to him. (No part of her brain, not even a little, was thinking that. No sir.)
Derek, just as slowly, put his hand under her shirt. It felt hot against her skin. His touch made her shiver. But soon she couldn’t focus on that as a warm feeling started replacing the unbridled pain. She gasped. Derek grunted. His face pinched in concentration and the perfect picture of endurance. The black veins covering his arms were the new thing Stiles would envision in her dreams for the nights to come.
When her knees went out from under her, feeling warm and dizzy and pain-free, Derek caught her with ease by pulling his other arm around her lithe frame. She blinked up at him, stupefied. The hand on the belly left to caress her cheek.
Stiles blinked once more and fell asleep with a sigh on her lips.
Stiles woke up in her bed, perfectly tucked in, pain-free and happy.
They didn’t talk about it. The next time they saw each other, Stiles bit her lip, smiled with pink cheeks, and nodded to him; Derek returned the nod and that was it.
2.
Stiles wanted to disappear, to cease her existence, to vanish from this world ruled by pain and cruelty—anything to stop the horrible pain again.
She had thought last month had been a blip in her cycle, a mistake her body wouldn’t make her go through again. She was wrong. Oh, so wrong. Last month’s pain haunted her, even when it made her blush at Derek’s actions. But this month was trying to surpass the last with energy and guts.
Her cell phone buzzed with an incoming call.
She whimpered at the idea of uncurling from her fetal position on her bed just to reach out and grab her phone. But if she didn’t, they would think her dead and abandoned in the woods like the rest of the victims; a serial killer had chosen Beacon Hills as his/her next target. At least, for a change, it was actually human.
With a huge effort and a loud groan, she answered.
“What?” she gasped.
“Stiles!” It was Scott. Urgh, she could just hit him right now. “Where are you? We agreed to a pack night in the loft to keep everybody safe from the-"
“My uterus is imploding.”
Even in the silence from the other end, Stiles heard Scott’s wince.
“Uhh...sorry dude. You still have to come. You can’t be alone right now. But feel better?”
“Urgh. The idea of moving makes me want to tear my eyes out, Scotty. I can’t even- I can’t. I’m so done with everything right now.”
“Um, we’ll come to you then.”
“No, oh god. No. Urgh. People. No. Just one. One will do. One werewolf can perfectly well handle a human psycho.”
“Okay. Who would-?”
“I don’t know, Scott. Figure it out yourselves. No more words. Words, world, bad.”
She hung up and threw her phone away. It landed with a crash but she couldn’t care less at the moment. Her uterus decided that multiple and several harakiris were acceptable this month.
She was still rolling with that wave of pain when her window slid open. She opened her eyes and saw Derek entering calmly, even when a drop of sweat falling from his forehead claimed he had run all the way there. He gave one look at her and quickly took off his leather jacket and boots. He walked fast towards her and rearranged her figure against his chest.
Stiles whimpered with the movement, then whimpered again because they were basically cuddling. In her bed. Alone in her house. Derek shushed her softly and sneakily rested his hand against her belly. Again it sent a shiver through her. She opened her mouth to say something, but Derek’s finger on her lips stopped her.
“You don’t have to say anything. Just rest.” He murmured.
As soon as he finished that sentence he started taking her pain. Stiles, more than heard, felt his grunt reverberating through his chest. She fisted a hand on his shirt at abdomen level. The warmth spread from her belly towards every fiber of her being. The sleepiness told her Derek had taken it all out again. She sighed and slumped even more against him.
“You’re okay. I’ll keep you safe.”
Same as before Derek wasn’t there when she woke up. She stretched lazily on her bed and scratched her belly. The traitor. She frowned at it, but a deep dark part of her thanked it. She yawned and went downstairs, ignoring intently that part of herself.
Her dad was in the kitchen, still in uniform after the night shift patrolling. She gave him a peck on the cheek before relieving him from breakfast duties. He blearily eyed her and went to sit.
“Derek was leaving when I got here.” She almost dropped the eggs. “Something you wanna tell me?”
She cleared her voice. “We were supposed to be at his place for last night’s curfew, you know have a fun night on a human dreadful night. But I wasn’t feeling well. My period came with a bang. Literally. So Derek came instead, so I wouldn’t be alone in case of-” she made a gesture with the hand holding the spatula. “I fell asleep as soon as he arrived. He stayed over, obviously.”
“You feeling better?” Stiles turned slightly to grab the plates and the sheriff noticed her slight blush, her soft smile, and the spark in her eyes so different from their usual light. Oh, boy.
“Yeah. He made his werewolf mojo and took away my pain.”
The sheriff’s eyebrows reached his hairline. Oh, boy indeed. He rapidly rained in the expression just before Stiles set everything on the table and started to dig in. He still raised an eyebrow towards her.
“What?” She asked with her mouth half full and the fork half-way to keep on filling it until she couldn’t breathe.
The sheriff wisely ignored the half-eaten food. “Did you say thank you?”
She swallowed with the orange juice. “No? He wasn’t even here. Should I, though?”
“Well, how horrible were you feeling?”
Stiles winced. “Yeah. Point taken.”
The next time Stiles and Derek saw each other, Stiles gave Derek a red velvet cupcake and a sly smile with a blush. Derek snorted and ate it happily.
The rest of the pack looked at them as if they had been abducted by aliens.
3.
They had had two months of supernatural calm. Of course, a month later, it was due time for supernatural shit to come back.
Derek and Stiles were running through the woods. Derek kept up Stiles’ fastest pace with perfect ease, glancing back from time to time and steadying her whenever she tripped over unseen roots.
Suddenly Stiles stopped with a groan against a tree. Derek crouched next to her, checking the surroundings. After making sure the creature was still far from the vibrations it made on the earth, he turned to her and gave her a swift visual check. Nothing was visibly wrong. Yet she was panting, scrunching her eyes, bending over, and digging her nails into the tree. The smell of blood reached him before her pain registered in his other senses.
“Really? Now of all times you get cramps?” He staged whispered disbelievingly.
She snorted and glared at him. “Like I can even control these things.”
A branch snapping, closer than it should according to his calculations, avoided their argument.
“We have to go.”
Stiles groaned, breathed deeply, and whined. “I don’t think I can walk like this.” Her knees were shaking. Derek made the decision rather fast and carried her into his arms, bridal style, and ran faster than they were previously going.
When her breathing calmed down, she huffed. She hated being the damsel in distress being saved, but right then she couldn’t complain. It was being saved or left to die. She would gladly suck it up. Then she giggled.
“What,” Derek asked a little out of breath. That was a first.
“It only took a life or death situation for you to say cramps.”
Derek huffed and sped up. It was exhilarating. The fast-cold beat of the wind against her cheek contrasted with Derek’s natural high heat embracing her. One of his hands touched directly her skin as the running moved her shirt and exposed her side, yet she didn’t feel the wind as Derek’s hand was there. She felt a blush creep onto her face and neck. She would blame it on his supernatural warmth. It was true. Wolves ran hotter. Pun intended.
Her giggle was interrupted by a painful groan. Her nails dug into Derek’s neck and chest. But just as it came it left, leaving her warm and fuzzy and making him grunt.
“What are you doing? Don’t. You’re literally running for our lives.” Her words were slurred. Why did the werewolf pain mojo always leave her sleepy?
If Derek answered, she didn’t hear. She was already sleeping in his arms.
When Stiles woke up, she was in her room alone. She stood up fast, grabbed her phone, dialed Scott’s number, and stumbled down the stairs, only to see the whole pack asleep in her living room. She hung up and counted. Derek was missing. She panicked.
She was about to wake up Liam when a hand stopped her. She recognized the warmth before she turned to see Derek. He nodded her towards the kitchen and she followed sighing, relieved.
Derek gave her a glass of water. She drank it up fully looking him up and down, checking for anything off. He did the same with her and then hugged his cup; his shoulders relaxing completely.
Stiles bumped their shoulders together before asking in a low voice. “What happened?”
Derek smiled amusedly. “The giant thought we were playing hide-and-seek. Kira’s his new best friend.”
Stiles smothered her laughter on his shoulder, which was also shaking with a contained laugh. “How anticlimactic for us.”
They didn’t talk about it. But Stiles made breakfast for Derek.
And the rest of the pack when they sniffed out the food.
4.
The pack was at Derek’s doing research for a winged creature with a hunger for newborn puppies when Stiles started wishing to die instead of enduring more menstrual pains that were making themselves participants to the night.
With a deep breath, Stiles went for a cold glass of water to distract herself from her internal walls destroying each other spasmodically. She gulped it down, gritted her teeth, and clutched the kitchen counter. Her legs were shaking again.
Derek appeared at her side as if summoned. He brushed her shoulder with a hand and swept it down her back, silently asking for permission. She shook her head. He frowned. His eyebrows asked why. It had been a while since she last talked the Derek-eyebrow, but it was a language forever forged into her brain. Every facial expression Derek did had its own file in her head.
“Every time you do your thing I end up sleeping. I can’t fall asleep right now. Last time we were lucky.”
“But-” She shook her head again. “What if I take just a bit? You’re really hurting.”
She bit her lip, considering. Then, after another wave of punches stole her breath, she nodded. “Not too much.”
As an answer Derek sneaked a hand to her belly, sending a shiver at the contact through both of them. She stared at Derek’s black veins trying not to lose herself in the warmth spreading through her. She tapped out his chest just before she knew she’d start feeling dizzy and, therefore, sleepy.
The pain was a faraway feeling, like a nagging in the back of her head. She sighed soothed.
“I can do it all night.” She opened her eyes to look at him and raised him an eyebrow asking why. “I think my body’s getting used to it and it’s burning it faster.” The eyebrow was still raised. “I don’t like seeing you in pain.”
Stiles patted his arm lightly and left it there for a second. “You and I both, big guy, you and I both.” She went to return to the couches and the books, but Derek grasped her hand delicately, a barely-there touch. He was searching her eyes for an answer. Pink rose colored her cheeks. She nodded.
Derek took her pain four times throughout the night before they cracked up the creature and discovered its weaknesses. Every time did not fail to make her blush or to escape Lydia’s eyes.
As the wolves, coyote, and kitsune left to kill the creature, Derek tried to take all her pain away. Stiles refused.
“You’re gonna need all your strength. Besides I’m sure Lydia has some old-fashioned way to get rid of it. Go. Save the puppies. I’ll be okay.” Derek hesitated once more at the door. “Go.”
Lydia flopped down next to her on the couch and said nothing. Stiles gulped and started fidgeting before surrendering.
“What?”
“Care to explain what all that was about?”
“What was what about?” She looked at her sternly. “It was nothing.” She grumbled. Lydia’s stare was unmoving. “Derek’s been helping me take care of my cramps.”
“Is tonight the first time?” Stiles blush answered better than words. “How long’s this been going on?”
“This would be the fourth month…”
Lydia hummed. “Have you seen a doctor?”
“No? I kinda hoped it would be gone the next month since the first time.”
“You should go. Unless you secretly want Derek to keep taking care of it.”
Stiles spluttered and her face got redder. “I don’t!”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Fine! Yes! I want him to keep doing it. It’s nice and cute. And addictive. And I love being that close to him. Will you please help me get rid of them now and let me die of embarrassment and forget I ever admitted to any of that?” Stiles hid her face in her hands while she waited for Lydia’s judgment.
Stiles was buried in a nest of sheets, had a hot towel on her belly, and was on her fifth cup of tea that Lydia had magically produced out of nowhere when they came back all filthy.
Derek trotted up to her and sniffed her legs until Stiles dropped a hand on his head and pushed him slightly.
“Urgh, your fur is all dirty, man. You’re gonna hate it if you get any of that on your couch. And you smell awful.” Derek yipped pretending to bite her and narrowed his eyes. Stiles rolled her eyes. He was sassy even in wolf form. Though she knew what he was pestering her about. It made her insides melt in a good way. “I’m okay.” She gave him a small smile.
5.
Stiles had purposefully forgotten Lydia’s recommendation to go see a doctor. She hated hospitals. And her deal with Derek was working wonders. Or so she thought the whole month right up until the point when going up to the loft for a pack bonding afternoon, her uterus decided to upgrade the pain with every step she took.
Gasping and with difficulty, she opened the huge metal door. She looked up to locate Derek’s position: he was comfortably reading on the two-person couch. He turned to look at her and made a move to go to her, yet she shook her head and walked as fast as she could to him, collapsing on top of him; her back to his chest; her figure between his legs; ignoring everybody else.
Stiles was roughly an inch or two shorter than Derek. When she made herself a space on top of him, she turned her head towards his neck whining her distress, making her nose bump just below his jaw.
Derek didn’t need to be asked twice. His right hand took its accustomed place beneath her shirt, over her soft, flat belly, and sucked away the pain. The black veins startled the pack, but a look from Lydia avoided a rupture to their bubble.
Stiles let out a contented sigh when the spreading warmth engulfed her completely, leaving the familiar sleepiness to take her under.
Derek didn’t retreat his hand. Instead, he caressed her belly, unconsciously drawing triskelions, the Hale family sign. He pretended to keep on reading, but his focus was entirely on Stiles’ peaceful breathing and calm heartbeat. She was a comfortable (desired) weight on top of him. He rubbed his cheek on her head and, from time to time, let out a satisfied purr.
Lydia’s eyes prompted the pack not to say a thing and to go through their evening like it was normal.
Stiles was feeling pretty amazing. All warm and cozy. Safe.
She repositioned herself, sensing the arms around her and the body under her. She smiled. It put her in a really good mood every time she dreamt of Derek waking up next to her. She blinked up and stared a bit at Derek’s Adam’s apple. She rose a bit, pulling Derek’s attention towards her, and kissed him.
His lips were soft, slightly opened in surprise, but his body was frozen. Stiles frowned. That’s not how it usually went. He should hug her tighter and roll them over until he was on top and enveloped her completely. She separated from him and saw his wide, disbelieving eyes.
Stiles bent her head confused, but soon her eyes opened just as wide. This wasn’t a dream. She choked on nothing and scrambled backward. She had actually fallen asleep on him and then she had kissed him. Oh god. She had kissed him. For real. Oh fuck. And Derek wasn’t reacting. In fact, she wasn’t sure either of them was breathing.
There was an eerie silence. The pack was just as surprised and frozen as Derek.
Oh fuck. Derek was not unfreezing.
Stiles gulped a big lump of air and ran away from the scene.
It wasn’t until the Jeep’s tires had long since squeaked away and the pack had left that Derek’s brain came back online. And then… he had no clue as to what to do. Had he waited too long? Why had Stiles run? What to do? Maybe she didn’t mean it? Or she did and was now freaking out, like him? Why did she run?
+1
Stiles had effectively avoided Lydia, the pack, and the loft the whole week. Between homework, hiding, napping, and pacing all-nighters, she had managed to visualize every negative what if; strongly avoiding the perhaps happy ones, because that was just impossible, right? Derek was just being a good friend, a good packmate. And she had to go and fuck it up with feelings.
It was Friday again. There was only one more class and she would be able to run and hide in her house. But she was cornered by the pack and kidnapped into an empty room. She disentangled herself from Liam’s and Malia’s claws and glared at each of them, except Lydia. Her fierce eyes made her stare at the floor and gulped. Had they seen it too?
“This is beyond stupid and more than enough.” Started Lydia and then nudged Scott forward.
“Yeah, man. It’s been a while since Derek growled me to leave him the fuck alone.” Scott’s shoulders slumped. “I’m his alpha and I don’t know how to make him feel less miserable or to stop you from avoiding all of us.”
Kira patted his arm lovingly. Liam shifted uncomfortably. Malia rolled her eyes. Lydia huffed annoyed.
“I don’t have a problem with your relationship if that’s the reason. It would have been nice though if you had told me first. I’m your best friend, dude.”
Stiles groaned. “We don’t- we’re not in a relationship. We’re friends if I didn’t totally fuck that up.”
“Are you stupid?” Malia asked confused and conflicted. “He adores you.”
Stiles had no answer to that. She gaped with her mouth opening and closing.
“It’s not like he lets everybody fall asleep on him,” said Liam raising his hands in a pacifying manner. “Just saying.”
Stiles set her eyes on all of them. Where they really saying…? Lydia’s raised eyebrow was all the confirmation she needed. She bolted faster than all the werewolves.
“Stiles!” yelled Scott.
“Don’t worry,” said Lydia checking her nails. “She’s on her way to Derek.”
Stiles sped all the way to the loft, fortunately without encountering any deputy. She ran up to the loft and panted heavily before breathing deeply, steeling herself for every outcome. Good or bad.
Derek opened the metal door and stared at her, not sure if he was really seeing her there or if it was just his imagination. They both looked like crap. He stepped sideways to let her in. Her scent filled the loft immediately. Not his imagination. He closed the metal door.
Stiles shifted her feet nervously, twisted the bottom of her shirt, and bit her lower lip. She breathed deeply again. “I’m sorry I-”
“You’re not.”
She blushed and messed up her hair. “Damned werewolf hearing,” she muttered, then cleared her voice. “I meant that if by, uh, k-kissing you, I fucked up our friendship, then I’m sorry. I should have known better.” She frowned and glared at the floor. Derek’s hand under her chin was a surprise. “Derek-”
He was intensely looking at her. She felt naked as if his eyes were capable of looking directly into her soul. His eyes slowly regained their brightness and all his face lit up with a smile. Stiles' heart missed a couple of beats at the sight and her breath caught in her throat. Derek slowly leaned in, intentions very clear. Stiles’ heart went into override and tilted her head slightly up.
Their lips met and it was completely different from the disaster of the previous week.
It was a deep, tender kiss that made them shiver.
They stepped closer to each other. Stiles slid her hands into Derek’s hair, while he pulled her in by her waist. It wasn’t long.
Derek rested his forehead on her temple and nosed at her cheek, breathing her in. “Don’t leave.”
She shook her head. “I won’t.”
“Never.”
She blinked and took a step back, smiling brightly. She twisted his shirt, clutching it tightly. “I’m gonna take you up on that one.”