Want. Derek never wanted this. Of course he didn't want this. He wants to stop waking every morning, shaking like a mad man, but he knows he can't. He tries so hard to make it stop, but it continues, plaguing his body with small tremors that wake him from a restless sleep. Derek hates it. He hates it because he knows why. Why he shakes like that. And it's all because of him.
"Please, Derek."
Desperate. A desperate voice calls out to him, he remembers. And then, he knows. He smells it. He smelled it long before it started, but paid no mind to the possible thought. How could he be so stupid? Derek blames himself because it's true. He did it, didn't he? He could have said something. That something could have saved him. And when Derek finally knew, it was too late. Far too late. The stench wasn't so much distinct anymore. It was pungent, hitting Derek each time with the familiar scent of guilt.
"Derek. Please. Don't tell anyone."
Tears. He remembers the tears. The non-stop tears streaming down his beautiful face. They both knew it had spread too much, too much for the doctors to handle. But they were in their own state of denial. It couldn't be true, right?
Wrong. Derek was wrong. Stiles had told him a few days later, voice choke up with unshed tears. He remembers that because he punched the wall in, creating a hole in the drywall. Derek thinks of getting it fixed, then he laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughter bubbles up into hysterical sobbing. He shoves his face into his pillow and wants to forget.
"Please Derek. I can't take it anymore."
Sick. Stiles is sick. Derek cradles him when they're all alone and strokes his forehead languidly. They know it's coming. They know it's gonna happen. But that day, they didn't know. They didn't want to know. Stiles falls asleep and Derek remembers the shaking. The shaking when he wakes up, eyes frozen with desperation. Then, he couldn't not forget anymore.
Gone. He's gone. And Derek remembers because it haunts him like a burdened secret, weighing him down. Only, it's not a burdened secret. It's so much more. He wakes up the next week and the shaking starts. The hysteria starts. And the crying. Lots of the crying. He spends most of the day in bed, face smushed into his pillow, silencing his screams. Because he remembers, but he doesn't want to anymore.
Derek doesn't want to remember.
It's late. I'm waking up early tomorrow to go on a roadtrip bc I'm going to Delano! Catch me at Filipino Weekend 2013 on Saturday! Lol, I don't even know. I'm delirious. I need to sleep. I totally didn't just spend an hour to try to get this up on my phone.