Chapter Text
No Lydia I don't want to!" Stiles huffed, pulling his arm out of Lydia's grasp and retreating further into the couch.
"Stiles you have to get back out there, I'm tired of watching you hide out in your dorm all day, eating nonstop and watching Keeping up with the Kardashians." Lydia said, her voice tinged with worry yet still sporting one of those disapproving looks that only Lydia Martin could truly master.
"Then don't watch! Just leave me alone!" Stiles snapped, turning his face into the couch cushions and bringing his knees up to his chest. He could hear the surprised, sharp intake of breath she made before marching out the door. Stiles never yelled at Lydia, in fact he didn't think anyone ever yelled at Lydia.
****
Stiles awoke to someone rubbing his back, surprised that Lydia had come back he turned over to apologize for yesterday, only to be met with the worried puppy dog eyes of Scott Mccall. "Scott! What are you doing here?" Stiles yelled, trying to sound as happy as he could and reaching up for an awkward side hug from his best friend.
"Lydia called me." Stiles' head hit the pillow as he groaned.
"Really I'm fine, You didn't have to come all the way from Beacon Hills just to check up on me, it's just a silly breakup I'll be fine in a few days, really you didn't need to come." Stiles rambled, several different emotions and excuses drifting around in his overworked brain. Anger at Lydia for forcing Scott to come all this way, Anger at himself for once again becoming the pity case that everyone had to take care of, and sadness, the sadness was always there too.
"Lydia said it's been almost a month Stiles." Scott said carefully. Stiles rolled his eyes "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No Scott, I really don't." Stiles snapped, causing Scott's worried eyes to take on a hurt expression. Shit. "How 'bout you take me out to lunch and help me get my mind off of it instead?" Stiles suggested, watching the happiness slowly creep back into Scott's face. Anything to stop him from looking so worried and sad- even if that meant taking off his sweatpants.
****
Lunch with Scott had only made Stiles realized how bad he had really been doing. He had literally flinched when he walked out into the sunlight. Flinched. He could see Alex everywhere, hiding in every little thing and it wasn't until then that he realized how alone Alex had left him, how broken he really was. He played along for Scott's sake, asking how Allison was, if he had made any new friends at veterinary school, asking about everyone back home and pretending that he cared. But the truth was he didn't. No, all Stiles could think about was the pain, the wrenching pain in his chest that had refused to go away ever since Alex had broken up with him, had said those words to him, "I've found someone else.". He had said it like it was an excuse, like it was supposed to make Stiles feel better, make Stiles hate him less. But all that it did was force Stiles to put all the blame on himself, to make him realize once again that he would never be good enough. So as Scott babbled on in the background Stiles could feel himself withdrawing more and more inside of himself, could feel the numb empty feeling return, filling up his body and creeping down his limbs until he felt like he was simply just there. Like he wasn't a person, not fully, but a mass. "I'm not okay Scott, I know I said I was, but I'm really not." Stiles had said, looking up at Scott's shocked and concerned face shamefully.
And now here he was, sitting in the waiting room of a psychiatrist's office, trying to remember when everything had gotten so bad.
"Maybe you should say yes the next time your friends offer to take you out." Dr. Deaton suggested, raising his eyebrows as Stiles fidgeted, running a hand through his hair. Alex had preferred the buzzcut, leaving Stiles no choice but to grow it out, even if it was harder to manage.
"I-I don't know if I'm ready yet, I mean what if I meet someone or someone hits on me or asks me to dance, then what do I do? I don't know if I'm ready for that." Stiles could feel himself getting frantic and he took a deep breath, counting how many times he inhaled and exhaled, a helpful tip he had learned from many years of panic attacks.
"Why would that be a bad thing Stiles? What are you afraid of?"
"What am I-" Stiles choked on a sarcastic laugh, tears pricking at his eyes. "You Know exactly what I'm afraid of."
Dr. Deaton sighed and nodded slowly, "You're scared of falling in love, that you will never be good enough, but I'm not telling you to fall in love Stiles, I'm telling you to go have fun with your friends, and if you do meet someone, then maybe it will be good for you, just a one night thing to help you forget about Alex, make you feel wanted."
Stiles laughed "Did my therapist just tell me that I need to get laid? Because that's what I heard."
"Just a suggestion." Deaton smiled, sitting back, he really could be one smug son of a bitch when he wanted to be.
****
The second they walked into Lunar, Stiles immediatly regretted it, the air was thick with the smell of lust and alcohol, the music making Stiles' head pound. Lydia could feel Stiles' mustles tense up from the death grip she had on his arm
"Stiles no, we are going to have fun, stop fighting it!" She yelled, pulling him over to the bar and ordering two shots. Stiles sat on the bar stool, his leg jiggling and his hands shaking in his lap. "God will you relax? You look like you're about to throw up." Lydia said, batting stiles on the arm. The bartender came up to give them their shots and Stiles looked up, surpried to see a big hulking figure with peircing green eyes, stubble like a shadow on his ridiculously attractive face. Stiles cleared his throat and looked down, praying that he hadn't noticed him staring. He glanced up just in time to see the stranger smile and walk away. Stiles downed his shot and looked up to see Lydia smirking at him. "He's cute huh?"
" What? I don't know maybe." Stiles tried to act like he wasn't interested, his eyes darting everywhere, refusing to make eye contact with her.
"Whatever, if you'll excuse me I have to use the ladies room." Lydia smiled, rolling her eyes, and turning to leave. Stiles started to protest but she had already diseapeared into the crowd.
Stiles put his head in his hands wondering why he had ever listened to Deaton in the first place, when he heard someone clear their throat.
"You okay?" the bartender asked him tentatively his face soft, his voice wasnt as gruff and deep as Stiles would have thought and he found something oddly comforting about it.
"No, yeah I'm fine, it's just a little loud in here." Stiles yelled, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.
"I know, I hate the music in here."
"Not the Lady gaga type? Shocking. Let me guess, Frank Sinatra?" Stiles asked sarcastically.
"I do enjoy the classics." he laughed
Stiles cracked up almost falling off his chair, "Wait are you serious? I was joking! Holy Shit that's perfect!"
"What's so funny? Don't I seem like the type?" he smiled
"Frankly you seem more like the broody suffer in silence type, you know, someone who locks themselves in their room at night and cries while listening to Adele." Stiles could hardly contain his laughter, the image so vivid in his mind.
"How'd you guess?" He laughed just as hard. "Derek." He said, holding his hand out.
"Stiles."
****
They talked for hours, stopping only when someone on Derek's side of the bar wanted a drink badly enough to interrupt them and when Stiles noticed that Lydia had never returned from the bathroom, but Derek pointed her out on the dance floor and they continued. They talked about family and and the people they had both lost, they talked about their hopes for the future (surprisingly Derek didn't plan on being a bartender for the rest of his life). And then things got around to past relationships and Stiles found himself talking about Alex. A topic he had been avoiding for so long now. The name felt strange in his mouth and a part of him knew he shouldn't be sharing this part of his life, but something about Derek's warm green eyes and his beautiful smile drew him in, made him feel safe, and it wasn't until later that Stiles would realize how much that terrified him.
"Excuse me for saying this but he sounds like a dick." Derek said from where he was leaning over the bar staring intently at Stiles.
Stiles laughed, a hint of pain in his voice, "Yeah, yeah he really was."
"Well obviously he's an idiot I mean look at you." Derek said it like it was obvious, like it was an unavoidable fact and it caught Stiles off guard, forcing him to suck in a breath.
"Me? What about you? You look like a greek statue" He laughed self consciously, looking down.
"You don't see it do you? I mean you're-" Derek stopped as Stiles shook his head, "Wait- you dont blame yourself do you? For Alex? Stiles he was an asshole, he obviously didnt understand what he had or maybe he was brain damaged or something, but that is not your fault. You can't beat yourself up over the blind stupidity of someone else." Stiles searched Derek's face for any hints of sarcasm but couldn't find any. His face seemed genuine, and what he was saying sounded like it was a compliment, but for some reason it filled Stiles with anger, he got up from the bar stool so fast that it almost fell over. Derek's kind expression turning to one of surprise.
"You don't even know me! I don't need life advice from some sleezy bartender that I just met." Stiles yelled, rushing towards the door and leaving a very confused and speechless Derek behind him.
Stiles burst out of the nightclub and into the night air, taking in a deep breath and bending over, resting his hands on his knees. He pulled out his phone, hoping to call Lydia and get her to meet him outside, only to see the text she had sent him an hour before.
To:Stiles
From: Lydia
couldn't bear to tear you away from your hottie so I grabbed my own and took a cab
Have fun! ;)
Great.
Stiles was exhausted. Mentally and physically. He had a shit ton of homework and studying to do and more mental problems than he could count on one hand. He knew that the responsible thing to do would be to get up right now, get some coffee, and get straight to work. But it was so cold out and his bed was so warm and so he decided to lie there a little longer. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the dust particles play in the light, and he wondered. He wondered how he could live in a world that was so beautiful and feel the way that he often did, how he could feel like this when he was surrounded by so many intricate yet simple little wonders, the world he lived in was so beautiful but he was so sad. He should be grateful, he should lie in grassy fields and feel the sunlight caress his skin, he should feel the rain soak through to his bones, he should travel, he should see the world, he should revel in the beauty of life, but something always stopped him, tugged him back down and wrapped him back up in his own problems. And to Stiles that was more sad than anything.
So with nothing else to do and nothing new to add, Stiles got out of bed.
****
Stiles’ favorite coffee shop, Bean There Done That, was full of people seeking refuge form the cold. Which of course meant that it was just a little too crowded for Stiles’ taste and that the line was just a little too long. But Stiles was fine with waiting and so he sighed and stepped on line. This was of course until he saw Derek, the bartender from the other night about 4 or 5 people in front of him. He yelped, always the subtle one, and spun on his heel, trying to push through the people in line behind him, people who were not only grumpy from waiting in line but had yet to have their morning coffee, causing them to grumble and swear at Stiles which of course only succeeded in drawing the attention of the one person he was trying unsuccessfully to avoid.
“Stiles!” Derek called, stepping out of line. Stiles continued to make his way towards the door, throwing it open and sucking in a shallow breath as the cold air hit him. He stood there for a moment, shocked by the cold and not sure which direction to go when Derek grabbed his arm
“Stiles.” he said again, softer this time, Stiles just stood there, looking back into Derek’s crisp green eyes, the desperation in his voice confusing him.
“I was out of line the other night I’m sorry.” Derek paused, looking at Stiles like he expected him to respond and then continued when he didn’t. “It was none of my business I shouldn’t have said anything.” Another pause. “I really enjoyed talking to you the other night it was … refreshing, and surprisingly easy and I was hoping that maybe we can do it again sometime. The talking I mean.” A worried look passed over his face when Stiles, once again, did not reply.
“Alex called me.”
Derek looked up, a look first of confusion and then understanding settling onto his face.
“If you wanna talk about it I live just down the block, I can make some coffee, it wont be as good as here but considering how we both gave up our spots in line its definitely faster.” Derek smiled warmly, putting his hand back on Stiles’ arm gently and Stiles sunk into the touch, nodding quietly.
****
“You seem a little different from the other night, are you sure this thing with Alex calling is all that’s going on? Is there anything else you want to talk about?” Derek said, sitting on the couch next to Stiles and placing two hot mugs of coffee on the table in front of them.
Stiles didn’t usually like to talk to people about his depression, needless to say it was kind of a sore topic for him. But the truth is, that when Stiles’ mother had died, a little piece of him had died along with her. He had spent years after that feeling lost, like there was a hole in his stomach, and eventually he added depression to his long list of problems. Having both ADHD and depression was a lot, some days he was up, with thoughts spinning and swirling around in his head tirelessly with even Stiles unable to follow them, like every thought a person could possibly have where wrapped up into one giant pent up ball, and then it would unravel, breaking into smaller balls that roll off into different directions, like several balls of yarn, and then other days he felt numb. Empty and strange like he didn’t know why he was feeling like this, where it had come from, it was just there, sitting in the pit of his stomach like lead. Some days it ran him over, knocking the breath out of him. He became all too familiar with panic attacks at a young age, panic attacks and pain and hyperactivity.
But he had had his friends, he had his dad, but after college, after he had moved away, to New Hampshire of all places, it had become harder and harder to keep up with them, except for Lydia, who had come to Georgetown with him, but she was always wrapped up in her pre law stuff or her latest fling to pay much attention to Stiles’ downward spiral, but she did her best, he wasn’t blaming her, it was hard for even Stiles to keep up sometimes. Just like it is for many college freshman, being away from his friends, his support system, mixed with the stress of school work, it had been hard.
But then Alex had come along. Alex who lifted him up and dusted him off and made him feel shiny again. Alex who had glued back the broken parts of him and painted over them. It wasn’t long until Stiles was in love, until Stiles felt that finally he was loved as well, loved properly, by someone who understood all that there was to know about him, by someone who loved him every way a person could be loved. But Stiles was wrong. The shine dulled, the paint had chipped away, and the glue had never really been glue at all, but a poison, a poison that seeped down deep and festered, rotting the only parts of Stiles that were still pure, breaking and rebreaking every part of him. When Stiles had quickly and abruptly found out that Alex had never truly loved him, that he had just been a warm body, something to occupy the time, something to take up a space. Alex had been bored and lonely and Stiles had been there, with his big naïve eyes and his vulnerable heart. He had been nothing and he felt like nothing. Never had Stiles felt so unwanted, so alone, so broken. He felt broken. And he didn’t know how to fix it and he didn’t know if it was possible. And now Alex was calling him, asking if they could get lunch because Alex didnt know what he had done to Stiles. Because to anyone else it would have been just a breakup any one else would have just gotten over it, would have dealt with it. Had some angry revenge sex with a stranger, watched a couple chick flicks with his friends and then been fine. But Stiles was not normal, he was not like everyone, something he thought Alex had understood, had accepted about him, but as Stiles was slowly starting to realize he hadn’t really known Stiles at all, had only ever understood him in relation to himself.
Stiles didn’t realize he was talking out loud or that he was crying until Derek’s arms enveloped him, pulling him into a deep warm hold, Stiles turning his head into the crook of Derek’s neck, embarrassed, and continued to cry.
And just barely, over the sound of his own sobs, Stiles could here Derek whispering, telling him it was alright and that he’d get through it, and that everything would be okay.
And for the first time in a long time, Stiles thought that maybe he was right.
Maybe it could be.