Roots
The smell of the air was earthy. How long had they been trapped here? Hours? A day?
Derek could only think about two things at the moment: that this was where Paige had died, and Stiles- the one snuggled against him now.
Coming here without telling anyone had been a bad move on their part. Derek hadn't anticipated this could happen.
Deaton had informed them that rubbing down the roots of the Nemeton with a certain potion could heal it, stopping the flow of dark energy that kept drawing down trouble on them.
One had to be precise in making this potion, and Deaton had warned that the consequences could be drastic if done wrong. Of course, Stiles was confident in his abilities. As usual- too confident.
Why had Derek let the younger man talk him into going along with it? He should have known better.
He wasn't mad at Stiles anymore. He was mad at himself. It became increasingly difficult to blame Stiles at the knowledge of their situation.
They had been trapped here in the dark for what Derek anticipated was a day. Only a little light leaked through cracks in the earthy canopy above, meaning Stiles had very little Vitamin D.
Derek was a werewolf. He could handle things that Stiles couldn't. They all tended to think of Stiles as pack- as stronger than he was. This drove home all too terribly the boy's humanity.
He was weakening. Derek's wolf senses could feel it.
After the potion had gone wrong and the cave in had happened, Derek had blamed Stiles of course. Stiles had gotten all offended and sat some distance from him for a little over an hour.
It had become too much. Even Derek needed someone's company.
"Hey Stiles... "
"What?" the boy had asked, clearly irritated still.
Derek had wanted to conjure up an apology, but he wasn't good at voicing such things.
"Talk to me," he'd said instead.
Stiles sighed and moved closer to him.
"I shouldn't have done that," Derek stated.
"You think!?" Stiles shot back "I know I didn't do it wrong, okay? This tree's just evil."
Yes. Derek had quite agreed with him. This tree had been nothing but a menace to him and his family. He'd lost someone very dear to him here. He'd thought about the fact that it was Stiles sitting next to him here now, on these very same roots.
"I didn't mean to blame you," Derek had muttered. "Are you okay?"
"I am right now," Stiles said, voice only a tad anxious. "How long I remain okay... "
Derek had closed his eyes at the thought of anything happening to the boy. He might not acknowledge it often, but he did care.
"You can't think like that," he'd said.
"So says Werewolf McGrowly pants," Stiles retorted sarcastically. "Weak human here: remember? Isn't that what you always say?"
The reply had been so bitter and venomous that Derek wished he could take it away- take back a lot of the things he'd said.
The two of them had talked for awhile about many things. About Derek's high school days. About Stiles and Scott's childhood memories. Then Stiles had said he was tired.
"Not surprising," Derek had muttered quietly. "Lack of sunlight down here."
"Yeah," Stiles mumbled, already sleepy and yawned. "Just need a nap... "
Derek listened to the snores that had soon filled the darkness around him, but he couldn't find solace in sleep. If no one thought to come find them there...
His chest tightened painfully at the thought of what might happen to Stiles in just two days without food or water. His werewolf body would survive for awhile longer.
He thought about how much Stiles annoyed him sometimes, but he thought about the fact that they were friends too. They'd been through a lot.
Then Stiles had woken up. They hadn't said much though.
"You slept pretty good," Derek had remarked.
"Yeah these hard roots suck," the teen grumbled in reply.
Derek had considered the decision briefly.
"Come here."
He'd wondered if Stiles would catch on what he was offering, but the boy wasted no time in scooting closer, in laying his head back against his chest.
Derek had felt his chest tighten again.
"Derek," Stiles had said. "I've never told you that I consider you my friend."
"Yeah?" Derek had asked in almost a whisper.
"You're my friend."
Derek felt his lips pull into a small smile, but Stiles wouldn't see it in the dark.
"You're my friend too Stiles," he said back.
Then Stiles had talked about how crazy Scott becoming a werewolf had been for him. How he'd processed it. All the while, Derek considered how oddly comforting it was to feel Stiles against him.
He thought about Paige again, dying here in his arms. It had been so long ago...
"I'm starting to get hungry," Stiles had said eventually, more as a complaint.
Derek felt a small prickle of fear. Stiles would be fine- for a day or so, but if he didn't get some food after that...
"Someone will find us," Derek had said, attempting to reassure him.
A wracking sob in the dark was his reply. Derek placed his hands on Stiles's shoulders and rubbed them gently.
Stiles sniffled, but then he seemed to have calmed down.
"Thank you," the boy said with another sniff.
Derek's chest had constricted again and that's when it occured to him that he wanted more between them than friendship. He'd never realized until this just how much he'd cared.
"Are you still hungry?" he'd asked firmly, yet surprisingly gentle for him.
"Yes," Stiles admitted quietly.
Derek inhaled and willed the boy's hunger to come into him. Stiles sighed in relief and his whole body relaxed. Still, taking the feeling hunger away didn't mean Derek could keep him from starving.
"I'm tired again," Stiles had said shortly afterward.
It made sense. The boy was pale as it was, and he wasn't getting any sunlight down here.
When the snores had filled the darkness again Derek listened to the boy's gentle, beating heart. He felt it hammering from the body lay back against him. Something was happening in his own heart.
They'd sat here for what seemed a few hours since. Stiles was still sleeping, and Derek was still lost in a wash of emotions at these newly discovered feelings, along with a fear he could barely contain.
Stiles snorted in his sleep and then groaned, stretching against Derek's chest and stomach, yawning.
Derek felt like it had broken some spell he'd been under for the last few hours.
"Still here?" the boy muttered sleepily, but Derek could sense how truly panicked the boy was becoming.
"We'll get out," Derek tried to assure him.
Stiles didn't say anything, but Derek detected an increase in the teen's heartbeat at his anxiety.
"Stiles," he spoke. "I wanna tell you something."
Derek thought he sensed the younger man tense up. Stiles wasn't stupid. Did he know?
"What is it?" Stiles asked, but his voice had a slight hitch.
"If I were here with anyone... I'm glad its you."
Stiles chuckled.
"Now you're getting delirious Sourwolf," he said good-naturedly. "This place is effecting you too."
"Maybe," the wolf said simply, only because he had to say something. "I love you."
He felt the boy's muscles tense, but he wasn't moving away.
"Do you?" Stiles asked softly, near a whisper. "How do you know Derek?"
Derek hesitated, but only because this was the only chance he'd have to say these things, and maybe their only time.
"I know," he said in near a whisper. "You can't tell your heart what it wants, and ever since I met you in the preserve that day... you do things to me. You've saved me. I just don't want you to get hurt too."
Stiles exhaled an audible sigh.
"Ever since we met, I've wished you'd let me inside Derek- let me see. I've wanted to save you, but then we just kept fighting. I wasn't sure if you hated me. Now lately, I know you don't hate me."
"Do you hate me?" the wolf asked, as though he couldn't bear for it to be true now.
"Of course not," Stiles whispered. "The truth is I feel the way you do. I have... for some time now. I needed you."
Derek felt the boy shake with tears and wrapped his arms around the body against him.
"When the nightmares started," Stiles said heavily through sobs. "I wished it was you that could save me, but you acted like I didn't exist. I tried to hang onto you, onto Lydia, onto anybody to stop him from taking me over. Then I felt like you'd never want me."
Derek felt like his heard was being crushed at the confession. He'd failed Stiles.
"I let him in completely Derek. It didn't matter anymore, and I lacked the courage to keep standing up. He tormented me with delusions, with lies."
"I'm sorry," Derek whispered, holding him tighter. "Believe me when I say it did hurt me to see him control you. Chris Argent kept saying we'd have to kill you, but I couldn't let him do it. I knew you were still there somewhere."
"I love you," Stiles stated simply. "You're right. The heart can't choose what the heart wants."
"Come here," Derek commanded softly.
Stiles sighed and turned around to face Derek, snuggling closer until he was practically in the older man's lap.
He exhaled when that strong hand cupped his cheek.
"Come here," Derek repeated in a whisper.
Then their lips met in the gentlest of touches.
Stiles released the breath he was holding and pressed against those lips more frantically to convey his desire.
Derek quickened the pace in response, allowing his lips to open to the younger man's seeking tongue. Feeling those fingers run under his shirt and up his back.
Derek pushed against Stiles, kissing him for all he was worth, thinking about just how long he'd wanted this.
"Stiles! Derek!"
It was Scott. It was like he was yelling at them from a great distance.
"Down here," Derek shouted.
Soon the sound of a shovel hitting the earth was heard repeatedly. Soon the sunlight was pouring in, and Stiles breathed fresh air again.
He smiled and snuggled into Derek's embrace. Derek smiled too and planted a kiss on top of that brunette hair-covered head. He had the rest of their lives to make it all up to Stiles. His Stiles- his love.