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There were sirens. Blues and reds lighting the scene before him, blaring sound only a distant whisper to him now. The screaming seemed much realer. He could vaguely feel the body in his arms taken from him, but he was far too tired to even struggle. There was shouting and sobbing, and as he was eased up by two deputies there might have even been a few punches but he was honestly too far gone to even know for sure. By the time he reached police cruiser the world was black.
--
“Mr. Hale, are you listening?”
The voice started him out of his blackened daze. He was in the interrogating room, sitting in an all to familiar steel chair, being watched intently by the officer across from him. He shook out his thoughts and nodded, voice raw. “What was the question?”
She sighed, “Why were you in the woods tonight Mr. Hale?”
Derek licked his lips, trying to think of the appropriate answer.
“Stiles no.”
The boy rolled his eyes, “Common dude, it’s a good plan. You know it’s a good plan. Just let me do this.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“News flash, I live in werewolf central where every other week someone’s getting their guts ripped out or cut in half. Dangerous has kinda become my middle name.” He placed a hand on the alpha’s shoulder, a gesture he knew would always soften him up. “Besides I got you to protect me.”
“Mr. Hale.” she said sternly and a lot annoyed.
“I was on a jog. I like to jog at night it’s,” he could still hear the screaming, “peaceful.”
“And you say you found Mr. Stilinski, just in the middle of the woods alone?”
A sob caught in his throat and he nodded. “Whatever had done it was gone.”
“Stiles?!” he screamed, running through the forest. He came to a clearing, smelling the salty tang of blood. “Stiles!’
There was a groan as response and he rushed to the sound. The teen was crumpled against a tree, blood seeping from his hairline and mouth. He smiled when he saw Derek, broken but sincere. “Did it work?”
“Yeah, we got them.”
“ Ha! Told you it was a good plan.”
“Hardly.” He gestured to the boy. “We need to get you out of here.”
He shook his head, grimacing. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere right now. I can’t really feel my legs. Maybe just...stay here a bit.”
That’s when he noticed the giant gash across his stomach, oozing blood. He felt like he was going to be sick, a cold rushing over him as the tears pricked his eyes. “S-stiles...”
“And he was alive when you found him?”
“Yes. Right after I called the police and um, he was,” He swallowed back everything, closing his eyes to get a grip. He couldn’t break down like this, not here. “He was dead by the time the ambulance showed up. I couldn’t do anything to stop the bleeding.”
“I can...I can fix this!” he sobbed, using his dirty shirt to try and at least slow the bleeding.
Stiles reached up shakily and rested his hand on Derek’s arm. “Hey, shh it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay!” he roared, the forest scattering around them. “You’re going to live.”
The officer scribbled some things down on the pad in front of her. “Did you have a previous relationship with the victim?”
“I love you. I love you so much.”
“I know, and I love you too. Remember that. Remember that no matter what I love you and I always will. Please Derek, remember that.”
“No, none.”
She rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Alright, you can leave now, but stay in town in case we need to ask you anymore questions okay?”
He nodded, standing up stiffly and leaving without another word. No one could look at him as he walked through the rest of the office. As far as they were concerned he was the man who killed the Sheriff’s son. They’d never be able to pin in on him, but they all wished they could. It would make everything so much easier, so much simpler. Because as blind as the Beacon Hills police department was to the other world that surrounded them they knew this was more than another animal attack.
Derek half expected to find at least part of his pack to be in his apartment when he returned home. This was usually the part where someone either offered comfort or tried to pick a fight. He was grateful though for the time alone.
His body was sore and stiff, it took all the energy he had left to make it upstairs and to the bathroom. All he wanted was to pass out and forget the world existed, but he was covered in blood and grime. He started up the shower, not even waiting for the right temperature before stepping in. The cold water sliced over his skin, pooling pink at his feet. He closed his eyes tight as the heat finally started to kick in.
“Dude I’m trying to shower!” Stiles shouted, trying to cover himself though it was sort of moot at this point.
Derek stepped into the steam of water, pushing him flat against the cool wall. “It’s my bathroom. I can use it when I please.”
He shoved him off grinning. “Too bad, I was here first.”
He looked down at him bemused. “What are you going to do about it?”
Stiles smiled as if he had been waiting to be asked that before leaning up to plant a kiss on his wet lips. Derek remained solid as a rock, giving him very little room to work with but he’d have to make do if he wanted the shower to himself.
It doesn’t take much to get the wolf off, it never did, just a few hot kisses and nips along his stubbled jaw. That and some attention paid to his nipple, a spot he never expected to find so sensitive, and he was rearing to go. Stiles ran a hand down his muscled chest, until he found his cock.
He gave a light squeeze and his breath hitched, body tensing. Stiles beamed, he loved to have any semblance of power over the alpha and honestly Derek loved to give it to him. With the water still pounding against them the younger man started to stroke in long, languid movements. He let out a low growl, deep in his chest, hands curling around his shoulders. As the pace increased he dug his fingers in deeper, leaving small purple bruises to match the ones left the other night.
Stiles probably watched way too much porn because he was surprisingly good, running a thumb from the underside to the head, mouth always working against whatever he could reach. In a steamy blur Derek was cumming, groaning into the boy.
Stiles got up on his toes, mouth to his ear just as his mind recovered, lips curling into a smile. “Now leave.” He pushed him out of the shower and laughed. “Oh don’t look so sour. I still have to get the blood out of my hair and I’m starting to get pruney.”
The shower was just blasting cold at that point, but Derek couldn’t care less. He crumpled to the ground, back against the wall and head in his knees.
He’d been holding it in so long. At first it was for Stiles.
“C’mon, don’t cry. Please.”
Then he had to hold it in for the police. But now that he was alone he couldn’t hold back any longer. He openly sobbed, mouth agape as he tried desperately to breath, snot and tears and water streaming down his face. His body shook and it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It wasn’t like losing a limb, it was like losing his entire body. Like he was nothing more than a memory held on by a single string. It was like losing his family and Erica and Boyd and his whole pack all at the same time all over again.
--
He didn’t fall asleep, he was sure of that. His eyes remained open and despite reliving everything he was there. He knew he was still in his tub, he could feel the water still going and he could hear his own cries through the din of screaming. But he also didn’t quite remember the night going by. He had no idea what time it was or how long he’d been in there. He just knew he couldn’t move and he couldn’t breath.
Which is how Scott found him, all bleary eyed and half within a dream. He finally shut off the water, helping him up and drying him off. Derek felt fucking pathetic but he couldn’t make himself care. He was lead to his bedroom and tucked under the covers.
“We’ll uh...Talk about it tomorrow okay?” Scott tried, trailing off as he noticed Derek wasn’t really listening. “I’ll just be downstairs if you need me.”
Scott hardly looked much better for ware. Stiles was his best friend Derek had to remind himself and he should be the one having the break down. But he wasn’t because Scott was strong, much stronger than him. And if rolls were reversed Stiles would be strong too. He knew it. But he was weak and the only strength he had left was taken from him.
Stiles rolled over on the bed so his head lay on Derek’s chest and smiled blissfully. “We should do this more often.”
“Sex?”
He elbowed him in the ribs. “No...Well yes, but I meant sleep overs. I like staying the night. It’s like none of the bad things can get us when we’re here.”
“The bad things can always get us.”
“Nu’uh. Not here, not like this. ‘Cause you got me to protect you.”
“I feel so safe.” he said rolling his eyes.
“Hey I’m strong! I got mad skills. I could save your little wolf ass any day.”
“But who’s going to save you?” Derek chuckled, rolling so he had the top, pinning Stiles to the bed with one hand and tickling him with the other.
He screamed laugher, kicking and wriggling. “N-no! Stop you ass! I swear to fucking God!”
“C’mon Stiles. Show me some of those mad skills.” he laughed. “Show me how strong you are.”
--
The next morning Derek pulled himself out of bed, though he desperately wanted to just stay in there forever. He got dressed and headed downstairs to do the whole normal thing though. And sure enough Scott was there, just as he said he would be, asleep on the couch with the TV softly claiming to be able to get any stain out. He didn’t bother waking him up, starting breakfast in silence as the boy slept. He normally wasn’t a big cook, but the preparation kept his mind off things. Mostly.
He started with bacon, getting the pan hot as he sliced each piece in half to better fit.
“I could give you the bite.”
As it sizzled in the background he cracked some eggs and began whisking them together with cream and seasonings.
“You know it won’t work. It’s too late.”
He chopped onions and mushrooms, adding them to the mixture before pouring it into another awaiting pan.
“We have to try!”
Once everything was flipped he popped some bread in the oven to toast.
“Please, just stay with me.”
Scott yawned, awoken by the smell of bacon wafting from the kitchen to the living room. He padded in after the it and sat. “I didn’t know you cooked.”
“I don’t.”
Derek plated everything, splitting everything between them and taking the seat across from the younger wolf. Scott dug in, starving since he probably missed a few meals through the chaos. He just picked at his food, every bite making him feel ill.
Scott looked down, Derek knew that expression, he wasn’t going to like what he said. “I just wanted to say that...I don’t blame you. For what happened. I did for a bit. But I know it’s not your fault. And you have to,” he sighed, taking a sip of orange juice, “you have to forgive yourself too. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“No c’mon, please. Actually try.”
He pushed his still full plate away and stood. “It is my fault Scott. I can’t just forgive myself and make it all better. I let him get in that situation and I should have been the one protecting him. He meant more to me than that.”
Scott threw his plate across the room, it colliding with a wall. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare try to act like I don’t know that. He was my friend, he was my fucking brother! Do you want me to hit you and scream at you and tell you that you’re the reason brother is dead? He wasn’t just your responsibility, he was mine too. And I’m tired. I am just too fucking tired of losing people, of being mad at you.” He wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand and turned around, heading for the door. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“Can you do something for me?”
“Anything.” he said, voice breaking.
Stiles smiled softly, he really believed that. “Can you...Can you take care of Scott for me? Without me to get his ass in gear I don’t know how he’ll survive,” he chuckled with a gurgle of blood. “Just make sure he’s okay? And my dad too?”
“Of course.”
“I know it’s a lot, but please just do that for me.”
--
It was another three days until anyone else came to the apartment. Peter returned, in a very Peter fashion acting as if nothing had happened. He continued to crack jokes and tease the younger Hale, though still spent most of his time up in his room. The day after Cora came back, she was a lot more sympathetic, offering to talk about it or try and help in any way. He just brushed her off though, and he knew it hurt her. After a week or so the rest of his pack came by as usual. Things were anything but normal, but they were smart enough to know not to talk about it.
After a week Derek could pretend nothing had happened, at least outwardly. He could bark orders at the betas, scowl at the mailman and train, hell he could even smile not that he usually did. Even as he used his Hale charm to get what he wanted, or smiled for the sake of the others though he could see Stiles, face a deathly pale, the blood that covered most of his mouth and chin smeared by his lips, with just the hint of a smile playing in those golden brown eyes. He could still feel the last warmth of him heavy in his arms. Those last moments never went away, no matter how normal he seemed.
But his pack still looked broken, more broken than usual. Whenever Scott came to visit he never even had the energy to tell Derek off for his bullshit. Isaac never seemed excited or happy anymore. He never saw Lydia or Alison cry but it was always obvious they had been. Cora just spent a lot of time alone. Even Peter couldn’t find much to joke about anymore because he had to admit he liked the kid.
They were his family and he couldn’t just let them hurt. Even if he did.
“Everyone’s grumpy.” Stiles said, sitting on the desk and the edge of the map Derek was trying to look at.
He gave him a look, he didn’t understand how this was his problem. He didn’t understand how this was Stile’ problem.
“Especially you.” He smiled, shimmying closer on the desk. “So I was thinking movie night.”
“No.”
“Oh c’mon sour wolf. It can be like a weekly thing. Movies cheer everyone up.” he leaned in close. “It might even put a smile on your face.”
He huffed, “Fine. But get the hell off my desk.”
He jumped up happily. “Can do! This is going to be so awesome. I’m thinking we’d start with The Wolf Man.”
“I hate you so much.”
“You love me!” he sing-songed.
Derek stomped down the stairs to the main floor where everyone was strewn, either watching TV, doing school work or idly chatting. “We’re having a movie night.”
They all looked up at him, crossed between surprise and waiting for him to drop dead or finish the break down.
“It’s Thursday. Thursday is movie night.”
“Uh Derek, you hate movie night.” Scott reminded, like he was talking to a child.
“We are having movie night.”
Scott looked back at the others, pleading for some sort of help.
“Okay.” Isaac stood and sort of smiled. “Yeah it’ll be nice, a break from everything. I think it was um, Alison’s turn to pick a movie. Which makes it my turn to get snacks. Yeah?”
Everyone sort of snapped into motion in that moment. Lydia offered to drive Alison to the rental store and Scott tagged along with Isaac for junk food duty. Cora started tidying up and Peter finally decided to put on clothes. Derek sighed and nodded, busying himself with popcorn, extra pillows and blankets.
What they all needed was normalcy. As much as was possible with the real core of the group gone. Movie night always boosted everyone’s spirits and although they’d all miss Stiles' commentary and very loud chip eating, losing themselves in a shitty move was just what the doctor ordered.
He could do this. He could fix his pack.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Derek asked, carefully sliding Isaac’s feet off his lap.
Stiles gathered up garbage and dishes. “For not being a grumpy wolf long enough to let everyone enjoy a couple hours of pulp horror fun.”
He shrugged, tucking in a drooling Scott.
“You’re a good alpha you know.” Derek didn’t look up. “I know you don’t think so, but you really are.”
“Well I suppose in that respect you make it easier.”
The boy grinned, spinning on his heels as he started up a sink of dishes. “Damn right I do.”
--
The next few months went smoothly. Movie night remained the highlight of the week and daily training started to rev up again. It seemed everyone spent a lot more time at the apartment than usual though. He was pretty sure they were worried he would get lonely and do something stupid. They felt bad for him.
“Don’t you ever get lonely?”
“Why the hell would I get lonely?”
He shrugged, looking around the room. “All alone in this big burnt out house. It would make anyone lonely.”
“I don’t get lonely.”
“Trust me, everyone gets lonely.”
He growled a sigh, “Well I can hardly be lonely with you here now can I?”
And he was lonely. He had always been lonely.
But he felt the most lonely when he was with them. When he was in the midst of kicking Scott’s ass while trying to teach him to change on cue during a fight. When he was chuckling to himself as they did shitty impressions and chatted about school. Because when he was alone he could remember the good times, he could bury his face in his pillow and smell Stiles, he could remember what plump lips felt like.
When they were there all he could see was the blood.
“I can’t lose you!” he sobbed, clutching at Stiles.
“C’mon, don’t cry. Please.” he soothed, stroking his hair. “You’ll never lose me. Can’t get rid of my that easily.”
“Derek?” Scott asked concerned after noticing he’d been checked out for quite a while.
Stiles swallowed hard, letting out a small whimper. Derek took away as much pain as he could, warmed him as much as he could. But dying was no easy task, especially for someone so stubborn. “Can I tell you secret?”
He nodded.
He let out a sob. “I don’t want to die.”
“Derek!”
He looked up, “Sorry.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“If you want to talk...”
He stood, pushing past Scott to get upstairs. “I don’t.”
“You can’t just pretend everything’s fine forever.” he called after. “We’re your pack, your family. If you can’t turn to us for help than who can you?”
He faltered a moment at the head of the stairs, “No one.”
--
Derek couldn’t believe the plan had actually worked. Of course there were the usual fuck ups and surprises but it actually worked. It was a good plan. A feeling of relief and excitement rushed over all of them. Everyone hugging and cheering. They would all need a long shower and a couple Advil, but it was fucking over.
He pat Scott on the shoulder but there was only one person he really wanted to celebrate with. He stepped outside the warehouse to call Stiles and tell him everything had worked out. He only got voice mail the first few times though and the third time he was totally cut off, the automated service saying that phone was not available at the moment.
Which is when he heard it. A blood curdling scream. It was distant but filled his head, clear as a bell through the silent woods. He was amazed no one noticed but they were inside no longer listening for danger. Because the danger was supposed to be gone.
As the scream turned from terrified to pain he ran to it. As he got closer to the source the sound which had previously filled his mind like someone whispering in his ear turned into a blaring white noise that didn’t allow him to think beyond tracking the noise. And he knew, he finally recognised.
His mate was in danger. His mate was dying.
Derek woke up screaming Stile’s name, sticky with sweat and tears. This was no different than any other night for the last few months. It was routine now. He took a cold shower and put a towel where the sweat stain was. Tomorrow he’d strip the bed and change the sheets. It was only three in the morning but he knew he wouldn’t he able to get to sleep again.
He usually used this time to try and plan for the next day, what to teach everyone, what to make for dinner, any new sassy jokes he could make.
How to be normal.
He also used the time to think of Stiles. To try and push back the image of him bloody and dying, and replace it with the smiling and laughing Stiles he knew and loved.
“I’m not scared of you y’know.” he hiccuped.
Derek side glanced him.
“Okay Imma little scared, but I think you’re just a big cuddly teddy...wolf.” He grinned at his joke, “I think all you need is a little love and maybe a shave an’ you could be perfectly respec-e-tecta-table.”
“You’re drunk.”
“You got me drunk!” he accused
“I found you like this on my door step!”
He frowned in thought. “Yeah, but I’m drunk ‘cause of you. ‘Cause you have to go be the fuckin’ sexiest guy I have ever seen an’ then you have to also go be like the biggest dick I know.” He poked him in the chest. “Evil dead guys aside of course.”
He rubbed his brow, asking himself how he always got in these fucking situations. “I’m taking you home.”
“I always have to fuckin’ want who I can’t have. I fell in love with Spiderman and then turns out he doesn’t exist! I fall in love with Lydia and she’s a fucking lesbian!”
Derek paused from dragging the teen out of his house. “Lydia’s a lesbian?”
“Probably!” He exclaimed, waving his arms in the air so he smacked the alpha in the face. “She’d probably rather be with a girl than fuckin’ me.” Stiles smiled to himself. “Actually that’d be kinda hot...”
“Stiles.” he said sternly.
“Right! And then there’s you. And you’re the worst. ‘Cause you don’t just pretend I don’t exist. You don’t just not giva shit. But you actually care, I know you care. I can see it. And you push me against walls and you threaten me and you look at me like...”
He stopped again and this time Stiles stumbled into him. “Like?”
He clutched Derek’s shirt to steady himself and looked up, “Like you wanna kiss me.”
He licked his lips, staring into his gorgeous golden eyes. He did want to kiss him, every day he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him then. “C’mon. You can stay the night.”
“That’s more like it!” Stiles beamed.
“You get the couch.” he said firmly.
He just rolled his eyes and waved him off, collapsing onto the couch. “Mmmn, smells like you. Like your butt.”
“I’m going to sleep.”
That’s how Derek wanted to remember him. He so desperately just wanted to remember the shining young boy. But every time the glowing memory was dulled by blood and darkness. Laughter turned to screams and soft touches turned to ripping claws.
The sheets no longer smelt of Stiles. Nothing in his home did anymore. Sometimes he would sneak into his room and bury his face in a pillow or sweater, but even those smelt dull and faded, his own scent and that of the Sheriff replacing what he needed most. If he could smell him he wasn’t totally gone. There was proof he was really there and not just a dream. Not just a wish.
He stood, hysteria tearing up his throat and settling there. He need air. He needed out of there.
He pulled on clothes and headed out, standing just outside his building for a few minutes and soaking up the cold night air before making his way down the street. He didn’t know where he was going, he just knew he needed to.
“Can you do something for me?”
He shook as he walked through deserted streets, barely able to keep up a steady pace.
“I know it’s a lot, but please just do that for me.”
Derek’s head was pounding, the scream still echoing through his skull.
“I don’t want to die.”
The world blurred around him and he couldn’t tell where he was anymore.
“You know it won’t work. It’s too late.”
Sobs caught in his throat and he couldn’t even care that he was in public.
“C’mon, don’t cry. Please.”
He stopped, blinking away the tears to figure out where he was.
“Don’t you ever get lonely?”
He was there. He was where it happened. Even after all this time he could smell the faintness of blood.
“Please, just stay with me.”
It took him a moment to understand why he was there. Why his crumbling mind would bring him to somewhere so painful.
“I can’t lose you!”
He felt the weight of the knife in his hand, looking down at it. It was an all purpose blade, standard issue to most hunters. He’d stolen it from Alison’s bag a few weeks ago when she’d left it behind. He hadn’t really understood why, but now he did. As he unsheathed it from it’s thin leather covering his nostrils burned.
Wolfsbane.
A quick stab to the heart and he’d be dead in an instant.
“Show me how strong you are.”
He ran his fingers along the hilt, warmed by his palm and took a deep breath. Turning it in his hands he closed his eyes and lining the blade to his chest.
“Derek!”
He smiled faintly, “I’m coming.”
With jaw clenched he extended his arms to take the plunge.
Before he could move back though he was blind sided and knocked to the ground. When he opened eyes he found Scott above him, knife somewhere on the forest floor.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
He blinked, “Killing myself.”
“What the fuck?! You can’t just kill yourself! You can’t...”
Derek sat up, glowering at the boy. “Why the hell not?”
“Because! Because it isn’t the solution.”
“Really? Because to me it seems like the ultimate solution.” He squinted into the dark, trying to spot the knife among the leaves and bush. “What are you going to tell me Scott? That it gets better, that I just need more time to heal?”
“Derek-“
He turned to him. “It doesn’t get better Scott. It never gets better. It’s a hole inside of you that you can never fill. It tears at you every day of your Goddamn life until there’s nothing left. This isn’t some cry for help. This is me ending it. I am nothing without him!”
“You’re our alpha.” he said quietly. “We need you. I need you. I’ve already lost my best friend and brother, don’t make me loose my alpha too.”
“Can you...Can you take care of Scott for me?”
He smiled bitterly, “You don’t need me Scott, you know you don’t. You’re alpha now. You’ll be a damned better one than I ever could be.”
“Stop talking like that!” he screamed. “Just fucking stop it! Do you think this is what Stiles would want? Do you think he would want you to take the easy way out like this. He fought to the very end. Can’t you do him the fucking courtesy to at least try and do the same?”
“You don’t know what it’s like.”
“No, I don’t. I have no idea what you’re going through. I have no idea what I’d do if I lost Alison. But you know what I do know. I know my best friend. And he would be ashamed to call you his mate. I know he deserved more than this.” He picked up the knife at his feet and handed it to Derek. “So y’know what. Just fucking do it. Take the cowards way out. Because you know what Derek. Life sucks no matter what hand you’re dealt.” He picked up the knife at his feet. “Strong is fighting. It's hard and it's painful and it's every day. It's what we have to do, and we can do it together, but if you're too much of a coward for that, then just fucking do it.” he tossed him the knife.
Derek stared down at the blade, finger tips burning under the wolfsbane. Tears streamed down his face and he didn’t have to look to know they were for Scott as well.
“I need you to do one last thing for me. One final favour. Please take care of yourself. I know it’ll be hard. Like real fucking hard.” he struggled to speak, lungs pooling with blood. “But you have to promise to live on. To do all the fucking awesome things I know you can do. Just live each day as best you can and don’t blame yourself. Don’t you fucking dare blame yourself.”
“I love you. I love you so much.”
“I know, and I love you too. Remember that. Remember that no matter what I love you and I always will. Please Derek, remember that.”
He dropped the knife, swallowing back every last tear and looking over to Scott who smiled. There was a moment of silence between them and they headed back into town. The sun rose as the reached the edge of the trees and together they watched.
He could do this.
“Scott?”
He glanced over from the sea of pinks and yellows. “Yeah?”
“That last line...Was that from Buffy?”
He laughed, “Yeah, it kinda just popped into my head. One summer Stiles forced me to watch the whole series.”
Derek grinned, “Yeah...me too.”