Work Text:
Really what the actual fuck was Stiles life…
Of all the shit that goes down in beacon hills on the daily it just had to be this… this is what gets him? This is the thing he can’t handle? After murderers and werewolves and kitsune and a kanima and every other supernatural or paranormal or regular run of the mill crisis… this. This?? This is what’s ass fucks Stiles so hard he’s crying into the arms of an emotionally stunted eyebrow clad sourwolf?? Great. Yeah. Fuck Stiles life.
Ok backup.
“He’s not here yet…”
“He’s an hour late, that’s not like him…”
“Sure it is. He probably got distracted again.”
“Shut up Jackson.”
“Not cool dude. I know he’s… well I know he gets sidetracked but he’d usually be here by now.”
“Everyone just shut up. I’m going to call him.” Derek tore through the bickering without even raising his voice which he himself considered to be quite impressive.
Everyone sat waiting as the phone rang. And it rang. And it rang. After several seconds and Derek fully expecting to be sent to voice mail it clicked.
From the other end they could here faintly what sounded like Stiles saying, “dad! Stop! Give- dad…”
“Hello this is Stiles phone. He can’t make it to movie night tonight. He grounded.”
“Oh um…” Derek couldn’t think of anything to say. His brain was just playing the words ‘fuck it’s the sheriff. You know the one that fucking arrested you?? Yeah that one. It’s the sheriff on his teenage sons cellphone talking to the guy he arrested for murder.’
On the other end the sheriff signed loudly before saying in a slightly kinder tone, have a good night Derek. And Stiles will see all of you for the next one.”
“Um yes- yes sir…” god Derek was going to fully shift, crawl into a cave and become one with nature or some shit.
The phone clicked ending the call just as he could hear Stiles saying, “dad! What-“
Derek stood there, like an idiot, holding the phone to his ear and staring at the pack gathered in his living room.
“Soooo… no Stiles then?” Asked Allison from her spot next to Scott on the love seat. They often forgot she couldn’t hear the same things most of the rest of them could.
“Uh- yeah,” Derek cleared his throat and blinked away his stupor. He wasn’t a kid and as much as the sheriff scared him, there really wasn’t anything the man could legally do to him. “He’s grounded, I guess.”
Scott was looking confused, the furrow between his eyebrows and the tilt of his head making every puppy joke Stiles ever made true. “I don’t understand,”
‘Of course you don’t,’ thought Derek meanly. Sue him, the kid was always confused.
Scott went on, “what did Stiles do? He’s barely even been home.”
“What do you mean?” Derek asked. Now he was the confused one. If not home where would Stiles be?
“He’s been studying for finals. It’s almost the end of the school year and he’s been pretty stressed about it. He’s been in the library non-stop.”
Now Derek was very confused. The library? Stiles hates studying in the library, there isn’t enough sensory input. It just makes him antsy. Stiles would much rather study in the park or at the loft, neither of which Stiles had been as of late.
The topic moved on with a few snide remarks from Jackson and the meeting was soon finished.
Still Derek thought about Stiles and his odd behavior.
—
Later that night. After the meeting ended and the sun set Derek was still thinking about Stiles. The night time drives and the glass of Jack he’d spilt and the increasing absences. It was worrying.
What was far more worrying, however, was the sound of Stiles jeep pulling up outside. In the middle of the night. Again.
Derek got out of bed and threw on a shirt before making his way to the kitchen to wait.
Stiles cursed the elevator and every person that was supposed to fix it. He made his way slowly up the stairs, knowing that Derek would not let this one go like he had the other times.
Stiles knew he was smart. He’d never doubted that. He could solve almost any equation you threw at him and could bullshit his way through essays in 10 minutes. He also knew people. He knew how to change them and they way they perceive him. Stiles is smart and he knows it. He just doesn’t always feel like it, especially when he willingly walks himself into situations like this.
He didn’t bother knocking, knowing Derek would have heard him by now. He slid the door open and toed his shoes off before finally making his way to the counter. Sitting down and not saying a word.
Derek was silent watching Stiles, his hood pulled up covering his face and shoulders hunched. It was worrying but not more than the smell of blood, faint but there.
“Stiles…?” Derek was so out of his element someone should just shoot him in the head.
Stiles didn’t respond at first. Head down staring at the counter in front of him. Finally after almost a solid minute, “I- I think I’m leaving…”
Derek froze. What? Leaving… like… moving away? Did the sheriff get a new job somewhere else?
Stiles huffed still not looking up. “I can hear you thinking from here.” He didn’t sound all that amused though. He sounded bitter and…sad.
“Stiles I don’t… what are you talking about?”
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to get away?”
Now that… that brought back the memory. Of that night months ago in Stiles' jeep on the preserve.
‘Do you ever think... I mean... what it would be like to just... get away?’
Stiles had brushed it off after word like it was just a random thought. Just one of the thousands of things Stiles says when it comes to mind. But it wasn’t… was it? This is something he’s thought about a lot it seems.
“I did ‘get away.’”
Stiles huff again, more bitter this time. “Yeah… I guess you did.”
They pause for a minute or two. Just sitting in silence. Derek is so full of fear for some reason. He can’t place it. Stiles is fine, or at least he is right now. All he’s talking about is possibly moving away. But it feels like more than that.
Stiles breaks the silence and Derek’s mini panic spiral after a minute. “I don’t know why I keep coming here…”
“I-“ Derek starts before he even knows what he’s going to say. “I’m glad you are… here that is. I’m glad you’re here.” God someone just take away his ability to speak, at this point it would just make his life easier and far less embarrassing.
Stiles chuckles a little at that and it makes something in Derek ease ever so slightly. But when Stiles talks again it’s with a seriousness Derek rarely hears from him and it has Derek’s shoulders tensing again. “I’m done. I- I’m done.”
He’s done? Done what?
“Done what?”
“This. All of it. Being here in the mess. I’m done with school. It’s- fucking boring. And I’m done with people who are supposed to be my friends never answering the phone. With supernatural bullshit and serial killers and murderers and almost dying every other weekend. And I’m done with trying. I’m just done. There’s nothing here. Everything in this town withers and I am not going to stay and and- die with it! I’m done!”
Derek can hear the tears in his voice and smell the waves of emotion rolling off him. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what he’s allowed to say. He think maybe he’s supposed to convince Stiles to stay? Maybe? He tries, anyway. “What about your dad…? I mean… he’s here. Is he going with you?”
That… that make Stiles angry. That is unexpected.
“FUCK him.”
Stiles is trembling. Trying to keep something from bursting. This Derek knows. He understands this feeling. Of everything in your life piling up and crushing you. You start digging to get out but the hole gets too deep and all you have left is to explode and try to take the shit weighing you down with you as you go up in flames.
He stays quiet, waiting. Derek knows there is more coming.
Stiles take in a breath that rattles his lungs and shakes his shoulders. “I don’t care what he wants but he sure as fuck is not coming with me. I- I can’t anymore.” He shakes his head finally looking up at Derek from across the kitchen island. And-
Derek’s heart stops before beating so fast he’s sure Stiles can hear it even with his human ears. Just visible under the red hood is Stiles bruising face. A cleaned cut on his forehead. A newly forming black eye. A split lip. An already dark bruise on his jaw. And this is only what Derek can see.
They stare at each other. Just looking. Neither knowing what to do.
Derek reaches up over the counter and out towards Stiles before he can think. Murmuring his name like he’s scared of causing more pain by talking too loud.
Stiles split lip curls and he’s leaning back away from Derek’s hand.
“Stiles- I-“ he’s not sure what to say. What to do. He was out of his depth before but now? What the fuck. “What the fuck?”
Stiles bits out a bitter laugh again, his face stretching into a mean smile and his lip breaking reopen bleeding. “What?”
“‘What?’ What do you mean what?? What happened?” Ok so the important thing here was that he was not panicking…
Stiles shrugged.
Derek waited.
Stiles stared.
Derek waited.
“…what… you don’t… you don’t know…? Or you’re just not saying? I don’t know what a shrug means here, Stiles.”
“Wow for someone who regularly communicates almost entirely through eyebrow movement and grunts, you'd think you know how to read body language better,” he quips.
Derek rolls his eyes knowing what Stiles was trying to do and determined not to let him this time.
He decides this is getting them nowhere and attempts to change gears slightly. “Where would you go?”
This catches Stiles off guard. “…What?”
“When you ‘get away’. Where would you go?”
“Oh um… I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I mean I’m 17 and haven’t finished high school but I could like… enlist…” he gets quieter towards the end like he afraid of Derek’s reaction.
“Enlist? Like… like the army?”
“Um navy…”
“Navy.” Derek repeats. He’s thought about this. Stiles has a plan… he’s thought it out. Fuck. “When…?”
Stiles shrugs again.
Fuck.
Derek sighs. “Looks Stiles… I- I have no idea what’s happening right now… I mean you show up in the middle of the night beat to hell and telling me you’re enlisting in the navy…? I- let just go sit.”
“I am sitting,” Stiles quips like the jackass he is.
Derek rolls his eyes and hopes it doesn’t come off as fond as it is. He’s just glad Stiles is saying something remotely sarcastic again (never thought he’d think that).
“In the living room. Where there’s blankets. And a couch.” He deadpans.
Stiles cracks a small smile for a moment and gets up to plop onto his sofa.
Once they’re settled and slightly more relaxed with blankets and Stiles is clutching a pillow to his stomach, Derek tries again.
“So… what? Like just. Start from the beginning?”
Stiles rolls his eyes like /Derek/ is the one being unreasonable. He huffs before burying his face into the pillow and starting.
“I- …I’m leaving. I haven’t told anyone and I’m not going to. I’m going to write a note and pack up.” He gives a bitter smile, “see how long it takes them to notice.”
“Notice… that you’re gone?”
Stiles doesn’t answer and Derek takes that as a confirmation.
“Stiles… why wouldn’t they notice?”
“Why would they.” It’s not a question. It’s a bitter statement. “Scott doesn’t care. He’s got Allison and Isaac and his new popular group of people to hang out with. He doesn’t answer his phone or talk to me or even look in my direction. He doesn’t care.”
“Well Scott’s kind of an ass…” Derek mumbles before he can stop himself.
Stiles laughs at that. “Yeah… he kinda is.” He quiet for a minute again. “The rest of the pack… I mean they’re fun. They… they are nice enough. I’m just not… I’m not one of them, you know? Like… they all have cool powers or are badasses with bows and guns. I’m just… not.”
He keeps pausing, like he’s trying to think how to put the words together. Derek does his best not to interrupt.
“You’re like… the only person who doesn’t care enough where it kinda just loops back around to you almost care, you know?”
This time Derek does interrupt. “I care.”
Stiles laughs and looks up at him. “Yeah… ok.”
Derek is a little offended, actually. “I care! I don’t…” he sighs and decides that is he’s gonna try he’s gonna go all in. Besides Stiles has shared so he probably should too. And it’s not like it’s a secret, per say. “I’m autistic… and I have trouble expressing things to others sometimes…”
“Sometimes?” Stiles butts in before realizing what he said and closing his mouth with wide eyes.
Derek laughs a little at that. “Ok, all the time. My point is… I care. I just am not very good at saying that I do. I try to… do… things instead.” He stops, not sure how to elaborate.
Stiles nods though. “Like Erica’s Mountain Dew and the popcorn for Isaac. Or buying The Notebook for when Lidia is over.” He says it with so much certainty, like Stiles knew this whole time.
“I mean I think The Notebook was more for me and the money I would save in the long run instead of renting it every week,” he jokes.
Stiles laughs. It’s nice. And painful to watch as the split lip gets pulled again.
Derek takes a minute to work up the words but eventually he says, “and the desk… for you.”
Stiles pauses, shocked.
“What, you thought I’d put a study corner in my apartment for me? The guy who dropped out of college?”
Stiles blinks at him. “But the others… I thought it was like a… community thing?” He says lamely.
Derek rolls his eyes. “No one else uses it, Stiles. Everyone just goes to the library or they study at home. It’s there because you hate the library.”
Stiles seems to be processing that. Like he can’t comprehend that Derek would do something nice for him. Derek is a little offended, maybe. The offense ends as soon as he see the tears start to well in Stiles eyes, though.
Stiles tries not to let the tears fall but fails spectacularly. One minute he’s staring at Derek (the man who is so caring and thoughtful and listens. He listens! To Stiles!) and the next he’s sobbing like a baby in his arms. (His beefy arms. Stupid werewolves).
Derek is completely unsure what to do with this. Stiles falls into him sobbing and Derek does the only thing he can think of and starts rubbing his back and arms and head. It’s awkward. But he’s not gonna full on scent Stiles and this is the closest he can get and that’s the only way Derek knows of comforting someone.
It only takes a couple minutes of the sobbing before Stiles has calmed slightly and is simply clinging to Derek. His face buried into Derek’s shoulder.
The muffled sound of Stiles' voices startles Derek slightly after several minutes of crying. “I’m sorry…”
Derek starts at that, squeezing Stiles shoulders. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s fine.”
“I- thank you.” He sounds so serious and slightly heart broken.
“Stiles…?”
“Yeah?” Still muffled into Derek’s shirt.
“Please… don’t leave?” It’s whispered into Stiles’ hair. A quiet wish like he can’t bring himself to ask out loud, like it slipped out and he’s holding his breath for an answer.
“…ok.” Whispered back, just as scared of what comes next. “For now.”
That was good enough for Derek at the moment. In the morning they’d talk about everything else, but for now Stiles was staying and that would be fine for now.