Derek was sitting in the loft thinking about the talk he had just had with Deaton. He was worried about what kind creatures the nematon would attract now that it was active again. Derek had started to meet with Deaton once a week to figure out what the next threat to Beacon Hills could be. Derek had wanted Stiles to be at their little meetings too, but the kid had been avoiding people lately. He thought Stiles would be able to help with researching creatures that may exist from old myths and also getting information on the supernatural things they knew did exist. But Stiles had told Derek he was too busy and avoided most of Derek's texts after that. Derek had noticed that he never really saw Stiles around everyone else that much anymore.
Derek got lost in his thoughts about Stiles. For some reason he had started feeling a connection to the kid and he didn't know why. He liked having Stiles around and he started wishing he would see him more. He decided after everything they've all been through he needed to start making an effort in people's lives. He had distanced himself from people for so long now and it was kind of odd for him now.
He took his phone out of his pocket and texted Stiles, "How are you doing?"
About a minute later he got a reply. "Fine."
Derek stared at the word. He was sure now that something was seriously going wrong with Stiles. He had been keeping an eye on everyone to figure out the effects of the nematon and making sure Scott, Allison, and Stiles were surviving. Scott and Allison seemed like they were handling things okay. He noticed Allison hadn't been sleeping as much and Scott seemed to be on edge about once a week, but the only one who was of any concern was Stiles. If you asked someone who didn't know Stiles before the darkness, they wouldn't really know anything was wrong. But Derek could see the change. He could see it was a deeper change than either Scott or Allison had.
Derek hit the call button and waited for Stiles to answer. He hung up when he was sent to voicemail. He was getting a little frustrated.
He texted Stiles again. "Stiles, will you pick up the damn phone."
He immediately got a text back. "Can't really talk now man. What do you need to say?"
Derek shook his head. He knew Stiles was not okay right now. The smell of despair had grown so strong the last time he saw Stiles that he almost couldn't look at him without crying. And Derek tends not to cry. He texted back. "I know you're not okay. I could smell the despair on you when I saw you yesterday. You look like shit and you need some fucking help."
Derek waited for an answer to come but it never did. He texted Scott and told him that he should try to get hold of Stiles too. With each passing minute, Derek was getting more worried. The way Stiles had smelled yesterday reminded Derek of something, but he couldn't remember what. He just knew it was bad. He texted Stiles a few more times and then tried to call him again. It went straight to voicemail all three times.
Derek looked at the clock on the wall. It was 5:30. As soon as he heard the beep on the third time he called, he decided to leave a message. "Stiles, I'm really fucking worried. If you don't call me back by nine tonight I'm coming over."
With that, all Derek could do was wait. He half-heartedly made himself some dinner and mindlessly watched whatever was on TV. He couldn't focus. Something inside his heart was bothering him about Stiles and he didn't know how to explain it.
Finally at 6:45 Derek's phone started ringing.
"Stiles-"Derek breathed out as he answered.
"Hey Derek. I'm sorry man. I was just busy and couldn't answer. I'm good, really." Stiles said.
"Stiles, I know you're lying. I don't know why you can't just let everyone help you but it's bullshit." Derek didn't need to be in the room with Stiles to know he was lying. It was in the kid's voice.
"Derek. It doesn't matter if you think I'm lying or not. I've been handling things just fine, okay? I just want you to know I've appreciated you trying to help but it's something I'll deal with on my own." Stiles' voice was verging on anger but it was too broken to actually sound like he cared.
Derek knew he couldn't force the kid to open up. He sighed. "Look, I don't want to push you but I think you should really show up to the pack meeting tomorrow. You haven't been to one in weeks."
"I'll see if I can make it," Stiles lied again. Derek knew. He just knew something was completely and entirely wrong. He wanted to say something back but Stiles had hung up. Derek stared at the phone in his hand and sat back down on the couch, going through all of the things Stiles had said.
Five minutes later he shot off the couch and drove to Stiles' house. He had remembered what Stiles' smell reminded him of. The only time he had ever experienced it was when he was 14. A kid he wasn't friends with had come to school smelling like death and despair. Derek didn't think much of it until the next day when everyone in school was informed that that kid, junior Aaron Burns, had killed himself the night before.
He drove to the Stilinski residence and could see that Stiles' window was boarded up. The closer he got, the more he could sense something was wrong. The smell of Stiles' blood grew stronger and Derek practically ripped the board off the window as he climbed inside.
The only light in the room was now coming through the open window. It was enough. Derek saw Stiles slumped over in the corner of the room. His body was pumping it's blood out of its veins like that's what it was always meant to do. Derek wasn't sure how long Stiles had been bleeding out. He nearly tripped as he reached Stiles' side and tried to put pressure on the wounds. "Stiles? Are you awake, kid?"
Stiles didn't stir.
"Fuck," Derek said to himself as he dialed 911.
The ambulance was there five minutes later but it seemed like hours. With all the thoughts running through his head, giving Stiles the bite was among them. If it was Stiles' last chance to live, Derek would try it. But once the paramedics arrived and started getting Stiles out of the house, all Derek could do was hope that he had gotten here in time. He rode in the ambulance and stared at the pale teenager in front of him. He had started caring about this kid and he couldn't pinpoint when that had actually started to happen.
As soon as they reached the hospital Melissa McCall was at the door with a team of nurses to stabilize Stiles. Derek was guided to the waiting area and he had to stop himself from pacing the floor. He took out his phone again and called Scott. But as soon as he dialed the number, Sheriff Stilinski walked through the doors. He'd no doubt been told that there was a 911 call with his address.
Derek hung up before the call had even connected and prepared himself to explain things to John.
"What happened? Is he okay?" John asked Derek.
"I don't know. I just was worried about Stiles so I went to check on him. When I got there he had already done it."
"Done…what?" John knew the answer but didn't want it to be true.
"He tried to kill himself."
John's mind went blank. He couldn't think of anything to say. He had no idea what to do. He was supposed to be the guy in town with all the answers but he had no idea what he was supposed to do now. If he lost his son, he… he didn't want to think about that. He sat down in the waiting room chairs and stared at the floor.
Derek sat down next to him and neither man spoke. Derek quickly remembered he needed to call Scott. He stood up and moved away from John a bit so he wouldn't have to overhear the news again.
"Hey Derek, what's up?" Scott answered, not knowing his life was going to be thrown upside down.
"Get to the hospital. Stiles tried to kill himself." Derek was blunt and didn't realize that that might not have been the best way to tell Scott the news.
Scott couldn't process the words Derek had said. He couldn't imagine a world where Stiles would do that. It just wasn't a possibility.
He arrived to the hospital five minutes later to see John and Derek sitting alone in the rows of uncomfortable hospital seats and his mother walking out of the operating room with tears in her eyes. His normally perfect wolf hearing didn't seem to work as he heard nothing around him but his mother's voice.
Melissa stood in front of John, Derek, and Scott. "He's still in critical condition but they've closed all his wounds and stopped the bleeding."
John sighed and fell back into his chair. "When can I see him?"
"Soon," Melissa assured him. She left the three in the waiting room as she went back to help with Stiles.
"What happened?" Scott asked John and Derek.
John started crying and couldn't even look up at Scott. Derek started the explanation as best he could.
"I'd texted Stiles when he got out of school but he wouldn't really talk to me. He kept insisting he was fine. Then he stopped answering me. That's when I called you and told you to check on him too."
"Yeah, I called but he never answered," Scott admitted. He knew he should have done more.
"Well he finally called me back and told me he was fine and that he'd try to make it to the pack meeting tomorrow. I knew he was lying, so I went to go check on him and get him to tell me what was wrong. But when I got to his house, he'd already cut himself. There was so much blood…"
Scott wiped the tears from his face as he thought about what he would do without Stiles. He had never been more terrified in his life.
The three waited for an hour before Melissa came back out and told them that Stiles was improving. "He's still sedated. He should wake up in a couple hours but we can all sit with him now. He's stabilized."
Melissa led them to Stiles' room. Derek started crying silently as he saw Stiles lying so still on the bed. The already normally scrawny teenager was thinner and paler than he'd ever been. Derek sat in the chair at the end of the bed. He didn't want this realization to happen right now. He didn't think it would happen like this. He never imagined he'd figure out who his mate was like this.
All Derek could do was watch Stiles' stomach move up and down with each breath. He was overwhelmed with how much he cared about this boy. He had the fierce need to make sure that Stiles' was always protected from now on. He never wanted Stiles to hurt in any way, ever again. But he knew that wasn't a possibility. Stiles was bound to be a wreck both inside and out when he woke up.
John and Scott took the chairs on either side of Stiles' bed and they all listened to the beeps of the machines and the small breaths Stiles took.
It was another hour before Stiles woke up. He was groggy and he couldn't figure out where he was or why it was so bright. He was certain he couldn't be in heaven because he knew if there was an afterlife, he would have been given reservations in hell.
"Stiles?" Derek said quickly. He'd spent his hour memorizing Stiles' features and he was the first to see Stiles open his eyes.
Everyone watched as Stiles blinked and tried to adjust to his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was the warmth of his blood spilling onto his skin as he fell asleep. "Huh?"
Stiles finally understood as he looked around the room. He had failed. He wouldn't look at anyone in the room. He instead looked at his hands in his lap. His arms were covered with bandages and he couldn't really feel them. He knew they had put him on the good drugs.
No one knew what to say. It was impossible for them to find the words to express their anger, relief, and sorrow all at once.
"So could I have some water or something?" Stiles finally asked.
John wiped the tears from his eyes and Scott handed Stiles a cup of water. Derek just kept watching Stiles' movements.
"What the hell, Stiles?" Derek finally asked. He was angry but he was able to control his tone.
"Sorry," was all Stiles could say once he finished his water.
"You hung up on me and then tried to kill yourself and all you've got is 'sorry'?" Derek leaned back in his chair and ran his hand over his face.
"Son, I think we need an explanation," John said, trying to ease the tension.
Stiles finally looked at his best friend, his father, and whatever Derek was to him. They looked broken and Stiles couldn't believe he had done this to them. He knew he did owe them an explanation.
"I didn't want to ask for help. Everyone is dealing with their own problems and I didn't even know how to explain what was going on. So I just kept it all inside. I know I should have said something, but I'm just so tired of dealing with everything all the time."
"That's all you needed to say to someone. We would have been able to help you figure it out," Scott said quietly, staring at Stiles' bandaged arms.
"That's what we're going to do now," John added.
"Can we not do it right now though? I'm kind of tired." Stiles yawned.
"Yeah. We'll be here when you wake up. Just get some rest." John stroked his son's hair and they let Stiles fall asleep.