A/N: so... this takes place in between like... episode 10 and 11 of season 2 i guess. yeah. i dont fucking know. anyway, if you ghavent seen those you might be a little confused... like i sent it to my boyrfriend who only watched the first season and he was a little lost. xD if you too have only watched to first season, you suck, all the sterek happens in the second. watch it. i do not own these charaters... lol, do i really have to say this?
Some days... you just have to let go.
Stiles didn't have a terrible life, he knew that... but his life wasn't necessarily great either. Between having to do so much for Scott's sake, including getting hit, scratched, mentally scarred, and not to mention pretending to be happy all the time in order to shine some light in his friends life, he also had serious self esteem issues. He was still drowning in the fact that he was utterly pathetic and had to watch his friends get hurt time and time again while just sitting on the sidelines like a guilty body of breakable glass. He might as well be eating popcorn and lounging... all he could do was watch.
He knew that he was going to break down, so he just decided not to go to school that day. School break downs were always the worst... everyone watching you as you try to figure out how you can erase yourself from the classroom, from the world, and especially from the peering eyes that refuse to look away, containing mazes of mystery as he would never know exactly what they were thinking, how they thought about him. His thoughts were over dramatic, he knew that, but his mind over exaggerated everything... especially pain.
So he had parked his car in some random parallel slot, slamming the door and just wandering the streets of the city like a lost puppy, not knowing where he was going exactly and just trying to find a place where he could be alone and shut down.
The once familiar streets of the city were just as winding and confusing as the puzzles found within people's eyes.
Maybe it was just the weather in the air, the clouds being gray heavy with threats of rain and lightning, but Derek definitely sensed something. It was this smell of somberness ringing in the air like the scent of a rotting corpse, but he felt as if it were radiating off of a familiar smell... someone he knew and probably cared about. His mind usually only focused on the emotions of those who were important to him – but if that was staying true then why couldn't he put his finger on who it was?
The feeling began to get stronger and stronger as he heard the scurrying footsteps get closer, the familiarly rapid heart beat...
The realization came when he felt the kid bump into him and stumble backward, almost falling to the ground.
"Sorry! My fault, I should... Oh. Derek. Hey..." he trailed off, slightly scared as he contemplated just how anger management the man really was. Please don't hit me... he was thinking.
"Stiles... its fine. Shouldn't you be at school?"
"Uh... yeah. On my way now."
Derek frowned a bit when he heard the kid's heart beat raise. Stiles knew he could see right through him, yet he still told him a lie... his pessimism was screaming that he was in for it.
Derek sensed his fear and sighed, merely walking past the kid to continue on his way. He felt Stiles' fear melt into relief, but in the end he just sank back into sadness.
He shuffled forward, walking a little faster than usual as he felt the boy's sadness grow deeper and greater. His hands tightened into fists and his teeth clenched. Stiles was stopping now, stopping in the middle of an empty alley to back up against a wall and let himself fall to the ground, his head on his knees. When Derek heard a light sobbing he found himself inside of his own empty alley, backed against his own wall, bashing his fist against the brick in anger.
Why the hell do I care!?
He sighed and calmed himself down, fishing through his thoughts for reasons why he cared so much about this irritating, sarcastic, hyper-active teenager.
The first time he ever had a conversation with the boy – in which he was able to feel something other than the pain of a bullet and the fear of dying – was when he was taking refuge in the Stiles' room. Derek felt how scared he was of him, especially when he pushed him up against the wall and threatened him, but what struck him was that despite his rapid heart beat, he had the courage to talk back and was even collected enough to be sarcastic. It just struck something with Derek... this was a strong human... not physically, but mentally. More so than Scott, anyway.
Another thing that got to him was when they were discussing the kanima. Stiles knew that the thing was probably one of his friends, yet he called it an abomination in such a sure way, as if it was inevitable but absolutely true. It was then that he understood more about Stiles. He wasn't just some hyper-active teenager... he had depth. He was, again, strong. And thinking of the kanima also brought up some other memories... like when Stiles had held his head above water for three hours, practically falling under himself but not letting go of Derek. Really, he should've been gone by then. Derek had told him to run yet he stayed when he saw Derek get slashed in the back of the neck, risking his life to get the man out of there.
And not to mention what happened with Matt, how surprisingly livid and terrified Derek was when the freak was stepping on Stiles chest, not letting the kid breathe.
Derek had many reasons to care about Stiles... but he didn't have enough reasons to go after the kid and try to console him. First of all, he wasn't exactly the best at consoling. In fact, he might as well be the worst. He'd end up scaring the kid and making him even more depressed, pushing him up against a wall and demanding to know what was wrong. Also, as far as he was concerned, Stiles sort of hated him. Can't really blame him... Derek realized. He'd never been anything much other than cold and threatening to the kid, so he really couldn't see why Stiles would feel anything but resent toward him. He didn't like seeing Stiles this upset, but he really had no reason to go after him...
Or at least he didn't before he heard the rapid heart beat speed into spazztic. A soft helpless scream of pain and fear filled Derek's ears.
Stiles should've expected this from where he stopped. Or at least he should've expected it if he'd realized where he was; the town ghetto. He was alone, fragile looking, and definitely vulnerable. When the men circled around him at first he was shocked, but when he noticed the circumstances he cursed at himself under his breathe. He might as well try to get rid of the men as quickly and easily as possible. He stood up and took out his wallet before they even said anything. The brass knuckles they wore on their hands, the bandanas they wore on their heads, and the huge smirks they wore on their faces said enough.
"Okay, let's see what I have here..." his face paled when realized that all he had was a single dollar. He quickly moved his hands to his credit card slot and took it out. "Want this?"
One of them snickered. He had dark brown skin and wore his shirt only around his neck, letting it settle almost like a scarf and show off his massive arms and muscular torso. "Toss it."
The card flew from Stiles' hand to his, only to be snapped in half the second it came into the man's possession. Stiles' jaw dropped.
"You were gonna cancel'at card the second you got home! Give us cash."
"Well..." Stiles sighed angrily, pulling out his dollar. "This is all I have. But since you enjoy ripping useful things, I guess you can just rip it into three and give a bit to some of your friends here too." He flung the bill and watched it flutter down, starting to walk away, but it wasn't long before he was grabbed by his arm, whisked around, and punched across the face with the brass knuckles. He screamed out in shock and pain, but before it even got a chance to ring a powerful blow met his stomach.
He gagged and fell over, feeling more utterly useless than ever as the three circled in closer, snickering and smirking.
I'm glass. He reminded himself as a mental punch to the gut, nothing but a pile of guilty, already shattered glass. His thoughts trailed onto the first time he felt this helpless, when he was facing Matt. He thought about how Matt had died, drowning, about how you feel like your head is going to explode until you breathe in and let yourself die, ending all the agony.
'What if it's agony now and just hell later?' He remembered his own words, realizing that these men might kill him and he wasn't even getting up to run. I need to breathe in. He told himself...
But the overwhelming relief he felt when he heard a growl was indescribable. This wasn't just any growl, it was a wolf's growl, and there were no wolves in California.
He didn't have the energy to look up and see who it was. He was just assuming it was Scott. He heard slashes and tears of clothes and skin, screaming and running. Lots of running. When it all stopped he looked up, expecting to see his best friend, but he instead found something completely unexpected. "...Derek?"
The man shifted back into his human form, sighing aggressively before saying anything to Stiles, trying to get out his anger in order to prevent lashing out at the victim.
He knelt down slowly, bringing himself close to the poor kid sitting on the ground. "You okay?" he asked Stiles in one of the softest tones he'd used in a long time.
Stiles bit his bottom lip and nodded, but he knew it wasn't true.
I was about to die, his mind screamed, I was about to let myself die. And then, just as he had came here specifically to do, he broke down, finding himself sobbing on the shoulder of the man who had just saved him. Feeling Derek's reluctant arms lightly wrap around him made him cry even harder as he thought about how life was just full of little simple comforts like that... the beautiful life that he had been ready to throw away.
And it was in that moment that the stormy clouds carried out their previous threat, dousing the two with a heavy shower.
The rain made things easier, actually, because its harder to realize tears streaming down someones face when you're rushing to get out of the heavy pour. But still sensing Stiles' anxiety, Derek took off his leather jacket and draped it over the boy's head, letting it fall loosely and shadow his face.
After walking into dead ends and circling the same area countless times, they finally found Stiles' car. The boy couldn't even recognize the place in which he parked, so since he was clearly out of it, Derek took the wheel. Stiles let his head slump against window, watching his breathe fog up the glass.
"...Stiles, look at me." Derek told him.
Stiles raised his head and focused his eyes on the man.
"Yeah. You're lips bleeding. It's all over your chin." Derek told him, trying not to flinch at the kids broken, vacant expression.
Stiles pulled down the sunlight blocker and looked at himself in the mirror. Derek was right, there was dried blood all over his chin and even some on his neck. Fresh blood was still slowly oozing out of his swollen lip. His cheek was starting to swell too, of course, and his stomach was definitely bruised. His eyes looked black and bruised as well due to the dark blue and brown circles that surrounded them. He got like that when he'd been crying and not sleeping. He looked like such a wreck, people would probably think he was some sort of homeless kid or the victim of a low income abusive family. He closed his eyes and shoved the flap back up, not wanting to look anymore. He focused his eyes on the road again, watching the trees zoom by. "Where are we going?" he tried to ask clearly, but sounded like a whisper.
"I'm taking you home... we'll talk when we get there."
"About what?" Stiles asked him, letting his head fall against the glass again.
"Well... you're gonna tell me what's going on."
"Well, what's going on is... we're driving to um... where were we going again?"
Now this struck Derek more than anything. He'd never seen Stiles be to broken to finish a sarcastic slur. Never. He closed his eyes for a second and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "We'll just talk when we get there, okay?"
He took Stiles' lack of reply as a yes.
"Go into the bathroom and wash off the blood..." Derek told him as they headed up stairs, but he just walked into his room and collapsed onto the bed.
Derek sighed and lightly rolled Stiles onto his back, looking into his eyes. "Come one. You can't stay like that all day." he extended his hand to the boy.
Lacking the energy to protest, he took Derek's hand let the man lead him into the bathroom. He sat on the toilet seat as Derek started to gently wipe the blood off of his chin with a wet paper towel. His free hand was on Stiles shoulder, steadily keeping him in place.
Stiles flinched a little bit when Derek started wiping his neck. "That tickles..." he said.
"I'm almost done. Keep still."
"Kay." Stiles absent mindedly wrapped his finger around the wrist of Derek's arm. Something about the notion just made the man freeze. A slight sentimentality showed through Stiles' mainly vacant expression, and Derek just couldn't look away from the kid's eyes. They were definitely soft and sweet... a rich caramel color... but they were missing the determined radiance that they usually containted.
"...you okay?" Stiles asked, now lightly massaging the wrist with his thumb.
Derek cleared his throat. "No, it's nothing..." and continued to wipe the dried blood off of the boys neck. But this time, all he could pay attention to was how soft the pale skin was, feeling down the smooth edge of a bone, taking in the beat of his bulging pulse. Being so fair and delicate, his neck was practically screaming to be pinched and scratched at, sucked on, licked, and nipped at... Derek had to bite on his tongue to get his mind to shut up and finish the job.
All he had left to do was stop the bleeding from the source; Stiles' busted mouth.
He brought a fresh paper towel up to the swelling lips, holding his breathe when Stiles open his mouth wider, letting Derek get up all the blood. The thick pink skin bounced back into place like rubber each time he was done stroking it.
The boy's gaping mouth was just begging to be loved... Put your tongue in here, it seemed to be saying, suck on my supple lips...
Derek kept on cleaning at the scab long after the blood was gone, using just his bare thumb by now. Stiles slowly let his mouth close and looked up to the man with confusion. "There's that much blood? Even on the other side of my mouth..."
Derek quickly took his hand away. "No, its gone now... done." he grabbed onto the boy's wrists and lead him back into his room.
Stiles sat down on his bed and turned to Derek with a confused expression. "How did you know I was getting mugged?"
"I heard you." Derek told him simply, "I heard you screaming and your heart rate was insanely high."
"You could hear my heart rate from that far away?" Stiles looked up at the ceiling for second, "That is so cool..."
"Yeah." Derek smiled a little, "Anyway, go change your clothes. You're still soaking wet."
Stiles got up without responding and walked to the dresser.
"Here." he threw Derek a pair of jeans, "They're my biggest pair."
"...Stiles... none of your pants are gonna fit me."
Stiles sighed, "You're wet too. And I'm not that small. Besides my jeans are baggy so on you they might just be a little tight... you'll only look... partially gay."
"I'm not wearing these."
"Fiiine. I'm gonna go change."
Stiles walked out of the room, giving Derek a chance to mentally beat some sense into himself.
What the hell am I doing!?
It was only this morning that he had been trying to figure out whether or not he hated Stiles, and now he was getting all these temptations and cravings... what was so good about the kid anyway?
Well there was of course his personality... as Derek and himself had gone over Stiles was a very deep person... and not to mention hilarious...
And then there was... his face...
His adorable little face...
Derek banged his fist down onto Stiles' desk, practically putting a dent into it. He knew what his mind was up to and he didn't like it,
He liked this kid.
When Stiles came back he was wearing just a pair of baggy jeans. And a towel draped over his head. He flopped onto his bed.
"Lose your shirt?" Derek asked him, making himself look away.
"It's hot." Stiles told him, pulling a blanket over himself. A few seconds of silence went by before Stiles spoke decided to say something. "...Derek?"
The man merely looked in Stiles' direction, communicating that he had his attention.
"Um... thanks for beating those guys up... for saving me... and not just physically, I mean, I was... fucked up..."
There was a slight quivering to his voice and his ears and cheeks were tinged red, much like when he was about to cry. Derek came forward and sat on the edge of the bed, showing his concern for once instead of hiding his emotions.
"Stiles... what exactly happened?"
Stiles bit his bottom lip again and looked away, tears rimming in the edges of his eyes.
"...hey... don't cry..." Derek told him, not knowing what to do in the situation.
"I was gonna let them kill me." Stiles told him, nodding his head and letting a tear escape. "I was gonna accept the water and make the agony end... I was gonna make it all end..."
"Why!? What was even going on!?"
Before Stiles could even get out another word he had started sobbing hysterically once again. Derek pulled the boy's head into his lap and softly ran his thumb over the buzzed hair. When Stiles didn't get better he did the same to his soft cheek, trying anything he could to comfort him. He ended up rubbing his back, clutching his hand, and just simply holding him in his arms before Stiles had calmed down. It was when the kid was practically silent, sobbing lightly with his head on Derek's lap, that the man leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the side of his head. It wasn't due to temptation – Derek didn't even have his sexual thoughts in mind – it just seemed like the right thing to do.
He felt Stile's lips curve up against his legs and was immediately overwhelmed with a joy he hadn't felt since the day his sister died; he felt close to someone. He was able to comfort the sobbing child and get him to smile, cheer him up. He couldn't even think about the last time he had a connection like that with someone. A pure, genuine smile spread across the werewolf's face, feeling almost foreign and strange since he hadn't smiled for pure reasons for quite some time.
"Thank you." Stiles told him before letting himself escape fro everything and fall asleep.
Derek felt the boy's muscles relax and his heart beat slow, letting him know that the kid was finally resting. He rubbed through his hair a few more times, kissed him on the forehead, and then carefully set his head down on a pillow, getting up from the bed.
He watched Stile for a while, looking at how peaceful the boy's features were, his lips slightly curved and his nose flaring softly as he breathed. He found himself just standing there and string and the kid, smiling like an idiot. Before he left the room he found a pencil and paper and wrote a note to Stiles dad. It wasn't an honest note, of course. It said;
Dear Mr. Stilinski,
Stiles fell down the stairs at school so I took him home.
Even if the excuse wasn't good enough, he was sure Stiles would portray it well with his smooth talking. He ran his hand down the kid's soft cheek one last time before kissing that too, and finally leaving.
A/N:I was very tempted to say "Stiles was giving Derek FEELS. lots of FEELS. FEEEEELS." but i resisted the urge. this is better than my other one... i made the more incharater cuz i've watched more of the show now. :D i do not own, so fuck off copyright. yeah, thats right. FUCK. OFF. xD um, please tell me what i can do to make this more amazing in continuous chapters. i will write more. i promise. i made you a FUCKING PROMISE. AND I WILL SEE THIS PROMISE OUT AS IF THE FATE OF STEREK RESTS IN MY HANDS, yeah, too much responsibility. if i get enough reveiws i will right more, kay? bye.