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"He doesn't remember," the Sheriff lets out a sigh, and after a long pause adds, "any of it."
"And you don't want him to," Derek states, his eyes narrowing slightly, his shoulders set in a tense line.
The Sheriff meets his eye, "No, I don't."
"But -" Scott begins, his eyes wide.
"He remembers you Scott. He keeps asking for you. You can still be friends," the Sheriff reassures. Scott looks torn, but doesn't challenge any further.
Derek takes a step towards the Sheriff. "He wouldn't want you censoring his life like this," he grits out, trying to keep his control.
The sheriff takes a step forwards as well, his expression is fierce, laced with resentment, and Derek can tell the guy blames him for everything - for this nightmare Stiles has been living in and for the incident that landed them here. "Really? Then why do you think he can't remember?"
Derek tenses further, "The blow to his head was a bad one, memory loss is not a surprising side effect."
"He's just a kid!" The Sheriff bites out. "He wasn't made to deal with this world you've dragged him into. Hasn't it even crossed your mind that he doesn't remember because he doesn't want to remember?" The Sheriff's face looks like he's daring Derek to challenge him.
"No, I don't believe that," Derek replies quietly. "He has a right to know the truth. He would hate this." Derek refuses to believe Stiles would ever do that, no matter how bad things got, that isn't the Stiles he knows: Knowledge is everything to him.
"The doctors can't find any reason for him not to remember you know!" the Sheriff fires back. "They were asking me -" he trails off, "Christ, they were asking me if he'd had anything traumatic happen to him recently -" the man rubs his hand over the back of his neck, in a gesture that is so Stiles-like that Derek feels his chest ache, "- what the hell was I supposed to tell them? I'd already lied about how he got the damn injury in the first place."
Derek doesn't meet his eyes.
"Hale, I've already had to sit him down and tell him his mother is dead -" The Sheriff's face contorts with the kind of expression that makes Derek's gut twist, because he knows that kind of loss only too well, "- if you actually think I'm going to tell him werewolves are real; and that he's witnessed more death and destruction in the past year and a half than most people do in a life time, well, then you've got another thing coming son. I want him safe again, and he'll never be that if he's involved with all of this -" the Sheriff waves his hand, "- with all if you."
Scott flinches at that, and his mouth opens to protest, but then closes again, his face showing hurt resignation.
Derek feels his shoulders sag, because a part of him knows the Sheriff is right; Stiles has saved them all, has put his brilliant mind to use for them and shown them endless loyalty, but he doesn't belong in their world. Humans who run with wolves tend to eventually get left behind or put down. It never ends well. Still, Derek is a selfish creature, and he doesn't want this; he can't lose anyone else.
"You can't stop us telling him," he challenges. "What are you going to do? Lock him away in that house for the rest of his days? You think he won't notice something is different with Scott? You know how smart he is, he'll know, and he won't let it go." Derek hears the desperate tone of his voice, feels the way his hands are clenching. "He's pack now, it's not that simple!"
The Sheriff seems take aback by this, as if he hadn't realized just how deep the bond ran between his son and the wolves. "Look, this is a chance for him to start afresh," the Sheriff's voice is quieter now, almost soft. "If you had the chance to forget something that ruined your life, wouldn't you take it?" the Sheriff asks, pointedly, but not without compassion, "Wouldn't you welcome it, welcome the peace of mind it could bring?"
Derek can't do this. Have they ruined Stiles' life? Is that how he sees things? Surely not...
"No," Derek's voice is raw, "I wouldn't want to forget."
With that Derek turns and walks away briskly, because the words sound a lot like a lie, even to his own ears. The memories of everything still haunt him every time he shuts his eyes. He thinks of Stiles; of what he's seen, of how he's been beaten and broken enough times now that he's started to get that same haunted look in his eyes, the one Derek sees every time he looks in a mirror for too long.
Maybe it is for the best if he's allowed to forget that the monsters are real. Some memories are better forgotten.