"This is a terrible idea." Stiles stated for what must have been the millionth time that night.
Derek growled, and gripped the Camaro's steering wheel tighter. He would not loose his temper over some skinny, defenseless kid. Not tonight, he told himself over and over. They were searching for a witch whom Derek was sure had the answers to all their problems involving Lydia, after he had murdered Peter before he could tell them how to fix her. Stiles, somehow, was elected to help Derek find her. Which apparently meant sitting in the Camaro, outside of a run down old house, waiting. If there was one thing Stiles hated, it was waiting.
"Can't we just go? She's clearly not here?" Stiles moaned, hitting his head on the back of his seat.
"Wasn't it you who convinced Scott to go through with this idea?" Derek reminded him, giving him a sideways glance, with the eyebrows.
Stiles huffed and looked back towards to house. It didn't take long before he was succumbed to boredom once more. He began toying a loose strand of cotton which held he different pieces of leather together to make the seats, giving tiny tugs at it with his thumb and forefinger. Derek noticed nearly immediatly, and began repeating his mantra; not tonight, not tonight, not tonight. It soon became all to much for him to bare, watching Stiles nearly destroy his seat, and his patience was wearing increasingly thinner.
"Stiles." He hissed, gaining Stiles' attention. "If you just sit still and say nothing for the rest of the night, I'll buy you all the curly fries you can eat."
Stiles' face lit up in glee, his grin widening. "I love you, man!" He said, shifting so he was comfortable.
For some reason, Stiles never got those curly fries, but they got Lydia back (Stiles was, secretly, just a little bit dissapointed).
For whatever reason, be it fate or the threat of impending supernatural dangers, Stiles didn't have a valentines when the dreaded day finally rolled around. Scott had Allison, and Lydia had Jackson, even Danny had a date. But not Stiles. Not Derek either, though that may have something to do with the 'talk to me and I will rip your throat out' vibe he tended to give off. And the eyebrows.
So, being the intelligent person he is, Stiles proposed he and Derek get drunk on Valentines Day, and mock couples. He blatently ignored the fact that Derek was unable to get drunk, and that Derek hated him. And that it was Derek. But hey, desperate times, right? Stiles refused to be sad and alone again on Valentines Day. He was quite happy just being sad, thank you very much.
So, a bottle of whiskey concealed in his backpack, he arrived at Derek's new apartment (the burnt down old house just wasn't doing it for any of the pack). Derek was mid-work out, assuming that Stiles had been joking about them spending the night alone together. When he opened the door, he realised how significantly wrong he had been. He was half-tempted to tell Stiles to go away, but the smile at Stiles' lips (that spread to his soft brown eyes) convinced Derek - somehow - to let him stay.
It didn't take much for Stiles to get drunk, no more than a few long gulps and he seemed to be overly enthusiastic about everything. Derek would never admit it to anyone, but drunk Stiles was incredibly cute. Of course, it dawned on Derek that Stiles would have to stay at his that night, ot he'd probably be arrested for letting a minor drink (and he wasn't exactly popular amongst the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department - thanks to Scott and Stiles).
Without much persuasion, Stiles convinced Derek to watch Girls Just Want To Have Fun and Derek regretted it the second the crappy 80's music came on. Not even Sarah Jessica Parker's somewhat provocative dance moves could save the movie. But Stiles spent the duration giggling, and ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the dancing. He might have cried a little when Lee Malene's dad tells him to go and dance, but it only made Stiles seem even more adorable.
As the end credits rolled, Stiles leaped enthusastically to his feet, and clapped his hands obnoxiously loudly, giving the movie a round of applause. Then, he spun clumsily to face Derek, a teasing smile playing at his lips.
"Sourwolf, I love you as much as Sarah Jessica Parker loves dancing." He proclaimed.
Then, he burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Then the laughter stopped, and Stiles began to fall to the floor, mumbling incoherently about how sleepy he felt. Derek managed to catch him, and hoist him back into an up-right posistion, slinging one of Stiles' arms over his shoulders. He sighed heavily before giving up, and carrying Stiles bridal-style into his bedroom. He placed Stiles down softly onto his bed, and went back into the other room without saying a word.
Scott and Stiles were in Scotts bedroom playing video games. It had been a while since they had been able to hang out together alone, Scott had a lot of responsibility in his life. But, no matter what happened, he promised Stiles would always come before everything else (except maybe his mom, but that was beside the point). Scott was just about to score a perfect shot on a zombie when Stiles paused the game.
"What the hell man!" Scott exclaimed, turning to face Stiles, his expression full of annoyance. Seeing the look on Stiles' face, he softened his voice. "What's up, Stiles?"
"What would you do if I told you I was gay?" Stiles asked, worrying his bottom lip. He quickly added, "Hypothetically."
"Hypothetically?" Scott asked, unconvinced. "I would say that I don't care who you love, so long as you're happy."
Stiles nodded, and unpaused the game. He was still nibbling on his lower lip, and Scott doubted that this was all he had to say. Scott sighed and re-paused the game. He turned to face Stiles, and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Stiles refused to meet his eyes for a few seconds before sighing as well, and shifting so he was looking at Scott instead of the TV screen.
"What else?" Scott asked.
"I just..." Stiles began. He sighed heavily, "I think I've found someone, but I don't think we could ever be together."
"Being cryptic isn't helping anyone here, Stiles." Scott teased.
"I...I just..." Stiles breathed, "Don't hate me but, I think I'm in love with Derek. Please, please don't tell!"
It was very middle school, very childish, but Stiles was finally being honest. He was finally telling the truth. He wasn't quite ready for anyone to know yet, especially not Derek. But Scott was the one solid in his life, and he trusted him to keep it hush-hush. How could either know that Derek himself was just outside the door, having just heard everything.
Why did Derek have to be damn stubborn. Stiles had said that everyone going out on a full moon was a terrible idea, he said that someone could get hurt. Lo and behold, Derek was now passed out on his couch. Sure, Deaton had said he was fine, and that he'd wake up really soon. But Stiles wasn't convinced. He'd never seen Derek look so frail before, and it made him sick to his stomach.
"C'mon, Sourwolf." Stiles begged, "Don't give up now."
Stiles breathed in, heavily, trying to calm himself down before the panic attack kicked in. He stared at Derek's lifeless body, and clenched his fists. This was so damn unfair, everything was just starting to get better, it was just starting to get good. Before the new hunters came along, and thrust them straight back into a war zone.
"Listen to me Derek, and actually listen this time. You don't get to leave us, you aren't getting out of this that easily." Stiles voice broke every few words, but he ignored it and kept speaking. "This is hard, we know that. It would be so easy to just let go, but we don't do easy. We do complicated. Really complicated. So come back to us, okay. Sourwolf, come back to us."
Stiles only whispered "I love you" afterwards, almost silently. It lingered in the air for a moment, then it was gone. But Derek still heard every word, every syllable. Every breathe Stiles took between sentences. He heard it all, not that he would ever bother telling Stiles that, of course.
Stiles was a realist, always had been. Even before his entire world came crumbling down around him after his best friend was turned into a werewolf - which, if he was honest was not as cool as he thought it was gonna be - it was the reason his dad trusted him so much. So Stiles knew, even if no one else would admit it, that the chances of surviving the night were slim-to-none. So he thought screw it. He was probably going to be the first to die, what did he have to lose.
He arrived at Derek's apartment half an hour before the others, knowing that it would be the only time he could talk to Derek alone. Derek seemed surprised to see him, but let him in anyway. He wasn't dressed yet, in only some tight fitting jeans which looked really good on him.
Derek began droning on about the mission or something, but Stiles wasn't paying attention. He was telling himself to breathe, and that he could do this. This was probably his last chance to do it, and he couldn't not let Derek know. It wouldn't be fair on either of them leaving the words unsaid.
He took a deep breath in and said, "I love you." He stared at Derek, who seemed to shocked to respond, so he continued. "I really, really love you Derek. Like, a lot. And I'm not an idiot, I know what world we live in. It's dangerous, and we get hurt all the time, but that doesn't change the fact that you're all that I think about! And I'm sorry, I've tried not to feel this way, but I failed. Because I love you. I really, really love you."
Derek continued to stare at him for a moment, his features hardening, before yelling, "You think I don't know that! You think I'm blind? I've seen the way you look at me, okay? And I've heard you tell me before. And I heard you mention it to Scott once, too. And I know! But I don't love you, Stiles. Okay? I don't love you, so just drop it!"
Stiles nodded, tears in his eyes. His breathing was rapid as he turned on his heel and hurried out of the apartment. He passed Scott on the way who asked him what was wrong, and continued to call after him when he didn't respond, instead continuing to get as far away from Derek as he possible could.
Inside his apartment, Derek was staring at his reflection in the mirror, hating himself.
Derek sprinted through the hospital, pushing people over, and knocking into things. He was desperate. He was scared. There were a lot of times when someone ended up in hospital, the life they led wasn't exactly safe, there were always risks. But this time, for Derek, it was different. This time, it was Stiles - poor, defencless, human Stiles - who was laid in the hospital bed.
Scott's mom, who was sat behind the reception desk when he'd burst through the hospital, told him Stiles' room number and which floor he was on with a sympathetic smile. He'd nodded, and started tearing through the halls, not paying much attention to anything but the numbers on the doors, and his own fear.
Since that day, he hadn't seen much of Stiles. Sure, Stiles still attended all the pack meetings, and he still risked his own life along with the rest of them. But since he'd told Stiles to 'drop it', Stiles had purposefully avoided him. Somehow, they had managed not to be left alone together for longer than a few seconds. He knew he'd hurt Stiles, but maybe it was for the best?
He finally, after what felt like years, found Stiles' room. He told himself to calm down, and that he was no good to Stiles in such a state - he could feel the wolf in him threatening to make itself known. As he stood, braced against the wall, just breathing, he could feel the changing stop and himself return to normal. With one final deep breath in, Derek entered the hospital room.
Stiles was laid on the bed, asleep. He might have looked peaceful, if it weren't for the bruises adorning his pale skin, or the split lip. If it weren't for the bandages wrapped around one of his wrists. If it weren't for the fact Stiles looked like death warmed up. Derek's heart broke a little.
And then all his hurt was replaced by anger. The plan - the stupid plan Derek didn't even want to go through with - was all Lydia's idea, and she had been the one who Stiles had gone with. It had been her job to look out for him, to make sure he was okay, and she had failed. Derek wouldn't have failed.
Stiles stirred in his sleep, and Derek rushed forward to the chair next to the bed. He sat down as Stiles' quiet snores broke through the silence once more. Derek let out a long breath he didn't know he had been holding, and settled back against the seat, eyes staying on Stiles the whole time.
He was restless, constantly shifting in his seat. Leaning forward to check over Stiles' features, leaning back and trying to look anywhere else. But his attention was always drawn back to the dark circles around Stiles' eyes; how even in sleep, even with all of his injuries, he still looked beautiful.
"Hey, hey Stiles." Derek whispered eventually, the silence finally becoming unbearable. "It's me, it's Derek. I know these past couple of weeks have been a little bit awkward between, and I know that's my fault. Just, please, okay, please, for me, don't go. Don't leave. You told me once, you said that we don't get to get out of this, not now. I was just as doped up on pain relief as you are, and you didn't think I heard, but I did. I heard every word.
"I heard you every time you told me you love me, every one of them. At first I didn't think you meant it, that it was just you being you. It wasn't until I was on my sofa and you were there and you knew I couldn't hear you. That's when I knew you meant it. But you're amazing, you have your entire life ahead of you. I don't deserve you, and I don't deserve your love, okay?
"I want you to know that I'm really sorry for the things I said to you in my apartment, I shouldn't have been that harsh. But I just needed you to stop, to move on; find someone new. I didn't mean to hurt you, I would never hurt you on purpose, you know that right? You know how much you mean to me? Because I lied, Stiles. I lied, because I do. I really, really do. I love you too, you're all I think about! But I'm no good for you!" By the end of it, Derek was crying, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, but he didn't move to wipe them away.
He just stared at Stiles and listens to the steady pace of the heart moniter, hoping, hoping more than he ever had before. More than was probably advisable in the world he lived in, but Stiles was in front of him, and he was still alive at least. And that gave him hope in a place that didn't give much to hope for.
It was probably unfair that, much like in the past, Derek shouldn't know that Stiles could hear what he was saying, and that hope was not a bad thing to have.