"It's all your fault. You killed them. They may blame me, but we both know it was you don't we? Your fault that you were weak. Your fault that you let me bleed them dry, knowing the thing that killed them wore your face, was you. They trusted you, but you let them down. Just as you always do."

The vacant, lifeless eyes of his friends stared back at him. Their bodies were mutilated, blood dripping down onto the white, pristine floor of the room that had been his prison for so very long. It was his fault. He let the nogitsune do this to them. He closed his eyes, but their faces wouldn't disappear. They all looked at him, accusing him, blaming him. One by one they flitted past before his eyes. Kira, Isaac, Allison, Lydia, Scott , his father,…Derek… Except Derek's face didn't disappear. His torn, maimed face continued to linger, staring at him with cold eyes.

"Why did you kill me Stiles? I thought you loved me? I guess I should have expected this. After all, everything you love dies, doesn't it? I wonder what you mother would say if she could see you now?"

"Shut up!" He couldn't stay silent anymore. He couldn't listen to this. He couldn't hear the truth being shoved in his face. "Shut up! This isn't real, you're not dead. You can't be dead!"

Derek smile; a twisted, cruel smile that sent shivers down his spine. "Can't I? Don't you remember killing me? The feeling of the blade in your hand as you pressed it in my chest? It's real Stiles, it's all real."

"No, no, no, it's not!" He couldn't control his breathing. It felt like he was having a heart attack. It was all his fault. They were all dead. He did it, he did it to them-

"Stiles. Stiles! Wake up Stiles, you're having a nightmare!"

Stiles woke with a strangled gasp, tear tracks running down his face. He automatically pressed his face into the closest thing possible, a warm chiselled chest, and sobbed loudly.

"They're dead," he gasped. "I killed them, I did it."

"Stiles, look at me," the voice said softly and Stiles looked up to see Derek, unharmed and alive, staring back at him. "You haven't killed anyone Stiles."

"I saw them, I saw you. You were…" He couldn't get the images out of his head. Even though the nogitsune had been killed, the nightmares wouldn't stop. It was still there in his dreams, taunting him, accusing him. Reminding him of what could have happened.

"It was all a nightmare Stiles," Derek said, pressing a warm hand against the back of his neck and resting his forehead against Stiles'. "You didn't kill anyone."

"But I could have, I almost did," Stiles murmured, tears still threatening to escape. "I'm the one who got Isaac hurt, who shot Coach, stabbed Scott, hurt you…"

"That wasn't you," Derek insisted, his voice raising in volume to emphasise. Stiles knew he was lucky to have Derek. The man had been the only reason he truly hadn't lost his mind. Stiles was a big bundle of issues, yet Derek still stayed. He still held Stiles after the nightmares, comforting him in the way Laura had probably done for him after he'd lost the rest of his family.

"I couldn't stop him, I tried," Stiles admitted. Normally he didn't talk about the nightmares, and Derek never pushed him to, but tonight was one of the most vivid and awful he'd had, and he had to speak.

"I know you did," Derek said, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "And no one blames you, for any of this. You were just a victim."

"But I wasn't! I could have stopped him, if I'd just been stronger, I could have done something. I'm weak, I always am." Stiles' clenched his hands into fists and tried to break the contact with Derek, but the other man wouldn't let him. He growled at Stiles' self-loathing words and made sure Stiles was looking directly at him before he spoke.

"You are anything but weak Stiles. You are one of the strongest people I know. What happened to you wasn't your fault. You are blameless in this Stiles, do you hear me? And I'll hurt anyone who tells you otherwise."

Stiles couldn't help but give a watery smile. "Don't let your anger-management therapist hear that."

Derek huffed. "I don't have a therapist Stiles. And I mean it; if anyone gives you shit over this, tell me."

Stiles leant against Derek and nodded. "I will, but they won't." His friends had told him multiple times that they didn't blame him, but he couldn't help but not believe them. Not when he was reminded by his weakness every night.

Now that he'd calmed down, his body was once again demanding the sleep it had been deprived of. Derek noticed this and adjusted himself so he was propped up slightly, Stiles' head resting upon his uninjured shoulder.

"Go to sleep Stiles, I'll be there when you wake up, I always will be. I love you."

"I love you too."

The nightmares didn't go away, but true to his promise, Derek was always there when he woke up.