Don't look too close, it's dark inside
A soft gust of warm, stale air caressed Stiles' face as he opened the door to his family home. He sighed and hoisted his bags though the front door. He waddled into the hallway juggling his bags, boxes and keys. He kicked the front door shut behind him while trying not to drop anything, but of course the top box, the one balanced right underneath his chin, slid off Stiles' carefully stacked arrangement and hit the floor with a soft thud. It acted as a catalyst for the rest of the boxes which all clattered to the floor with Stiles stumbling around and wind-milling his arms trying to catch them, but just ending up sprawled out on the floor surrounded by his belongings. He chuckled to himself before picking himself up and dusting himself off.
Making his way into the kitchen, Stiles turned on the kettle. As he waited for the water to boil he looked out the window framing the familiar view of his back garden and the woods behind the fence marking the property line. He shut his eyes and couldn't help but reflect on why he was back here, in Beacon Hills. His very public breakdown, in the middle of a concert, was the most recent in the long list of unfortunate events that had happened to Stiles since his best friend, Scott McCall, had been turned into a werewolf. No! Stop! He couldn't think about that! He could already feel his heart rate increasing and his breathing was escalating, both tell-tale signs of an approaching panic attack. Stiles forced himself to calm down, forced himself to think about flowers and puppies... and other fluffy, girly shit like that.
Stiles had left Beacon Hills two years ago. He hadn't been back since. The pressure and danger associated with hanging out with werewolves and kanimas and other such creatures had just been too much for him, so he had been forced to run away from his life here in order to prevent himself from becoming so paranoid and so upset that he took his own life. Stiles absent-mindedly traced his fingers over the pale outlines of the scars that were branded into the even paler skin of his arms.
RTATATATAT.
Stiles jumped as a loud, aggressive knock was pounded on the Stilinski's front door. Cup of coffee in hand, he made his way apprehensively to the front door and opened it. He barely had time to see who was standing there before he was enveloped in a tight bear hug. Laughing he hugged back while trying not to spill his coffee.
"Stiles, you're back! How long are you staying? Please tell me you're staying for good? Where the hell have you been all this time? It has been a nightmare trying to handle Derek and Jackson without you!" Stiles chuckled as his oldest friend, Scott, bombarded him with questions as soon as their bear hug had finished. Scott looked like an excited puppy, warm brown eyes wide and full of innocence, he was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet he was so elated.
"Yeah, I'm back for good, I think. I mean... my Dad needs me here and I figured it was about time I came back" Stiles replied, deliberately omitting the part about not having anywhere else to go.
Scott was still smiling and Stiles invited him inside, making him a coffee from the boiled water still left in the kettle. After having two years of next to no communication, Stiles and Scott found themselves talking for hours. In fact, they were still submerged in deep discussion when Stiles's Dad, the Sheriff, walked in later that evening. Sheriff Stilinski looked at the two young men chatting on his sofa and shook his head slightly to try and dispel the sense of deja vu he had at watching them talk animatedly. You never would have guessed that they had been near strangers to each other over the recent years.
"You staying for dinner Scott?" The sheriff asked when the boys paused to take a breath.
Scott looked at the sheriff bewildered before seeing the time and hurriedly pulling on his jacket.
"Not tonight Sheriff, the gang are eating at Derek's pace" he turned to Stiles beaming "Hey you should come, it'd be just like old times!"
"Thanks, but I should probably stay here and unpack all my stuff." Stiles said, knowing it was a pretty poor excuse. Sure, it had been nice seeing Scott again but he wasn't sure if he was up to meeting up with the rest of the pack just yet.
"Aww, come on Stiles man, it'll be fun!" Scott persisted.
"Yeah, go on Stiles, go out and enjoy yourself. You can finish unpacking tomorrow." The sheriff announced, which settled the argument.
Not looking forward to the night ahead, Stiles reluctantly grabbed his own jacket before following the still smiling Scott out of the door. Seeing his bike, Scott stopped and smacked himself on the forehead "Shit, I forgot". Stiles was tempted to use the lack of transport as an excuse but he had already resigned himself to getting this awkward encounter over and done with, so he pulled the keys to his jeep out of his pocket and climbed into the rusty old vehicle half hoping it wouldn't work. It did.
Stiles was surprised when Scott directed him to the old Hale house, wondering why they would be eating dinner in a burned out shell of a house. Stiles' curiosity was satisfied, however, when they pulled up next to their old haunt. He was slightly speechless, the whole house had been redone. The splintered wood had been replaced and painted white while the porch running around the outside of the house had been coated in a dark mahogany oil, which made it look shiny and alive. Stiles smiled despite himself as he noticed a few tell-tale claw marks scratched into the otherwise even floor.
Knowing that the pack inside the house was aware that they had arrived, Stiles felt uncomfortable. It would take a while to get used to their wolf senses again. Scott walked ahead as they approached the house and walked right in without knocking, calling out "Guess who I found!" although all the werewolves would know and recognise Stiles by his sent. Unsure of the reception he would get, Stiles nervously followed Scott over the threshold and was immediately enveloped in a bear hug that rivalled Scott's. Withdrawing from the hug he saw that the warm greeting had come from Alison and Lydia who were still smiling at him. He smiled back, realising coming back to Beacon Hills might not be so bad after all.
Next came Isaac,Danny and Cora, who all gave him a quick embrace. They were quickly followed by Ethan and Aiden, the alpha twins, who both shook his hand. And finally, he got a nod from Jackson, who was stood with his arm around the waist of a pretty blonde girl Stiles didn't know. It was weird seeing everyone after two years, some the dynamics within the pack had obviously changed as Alison was stood close to Isaac and Scott closer to Cora, not to mention Lydia was holding Aiden's hand instead of Jackson's as Stiles would have expected. Derek was nowhere to be seen.
Slightly overwhelmed, Stiles followed the gang into the dinning room and was directed to a seat in-between Scott and Lydia. Stiles sat there and listened to his old friends as they talked non-stop, feeding him with all the gossip he had missed out on over the last couple of years. The dinning table was round so everybody could see everybody else, Stiles wondered idly who's idea it had been to put it there.
Suddenly Ethan, who was closest to the door exclaimed; "Derek's back!" and ran out the door. Reappearing moments later carrying bags filled to the brim with boxes of Chinese takeaway. Derek came in behind him carrying another load of food filled bags. He stopped abruptly when he saw Stiles, who smiled at him nervously. Derek's eyes narrowed, "What are you doing here?".
That was it. No "hello how ya been". Two years and the only greeting he got from Derek was "what are you doing here?". It's safe to say that Stiles was not too happy about this.
"It's nice to see you again too Derek" He replied sarcastically and was a little proud of himself when he saw the alpha's eyes flicker red before returning to the normal icy blue.
"I asked you a question Stiles" Derek growled and took a menacing step towards the chair that Stiles was sat in.
Stiles huffed, he didn't like the fact that he'd only been back a few hours and the alpha was already bossing him around.
"Stiles!" Derek hissed.
"OK, all right, jeez Derek! I can see you're still the same old sour wolf." Stiles mumbled, submitting to the alphas will but deciding to make things extra hard for him, " I'm here because Scott invited me to dinner-"
"I meant; what are you doing here, in Beacon Hills?" Derek interrupted, still glaring at Stiles.
Stiles looked him boldly in the eye and calmly stated, "I fail to see why that is any of your business Derek Hale." He'd be damned if he let the pack find out that he was really back because he had no money and no-where else to go, not to mention his mental instability and emotional baggage.
The whole pack gasped collectively and gaped at him. Clearly Derek was used to getting his own way.
Stiles didn't break eye contact.
Neither did Derek.
An awkward thirty seconds passed before Derek smiled briefly and shook his head "Still the same old Stiles" he said and just like that everyone was laughing and talking again whilst sharing out the food. Lydia moved up and Derek sat down next in the newly vacated seat next to Stiles. Stiles was still reeling from the fact that he had won an-actual-frickin'-argument with Derek Hale.
The remainder of the evening passed without any major disaster taking place which, to Stiles, seemed to good to be true. Towards the end of his time in Beacon Hills it had seemed that he had done nothing but run around chasing werewolves and other mystical creatures, desperately trying to help even though he had absolutely no special talents whatsoever. Even Lydia had been more helpful than him, and she was more interested in shoes than hanging out with members of the supernatural. Stiles' good mood deteriorated somewhat when he remembered this and Derek frowned at him. Damn werewolves and there heightened senses! Stiles smiled quickly at Derek and consciously tried to recapture the good mood he had been in moments ago. But the fact that Derek kept glancing over at him showed that he wasn't doing a very good job.
Eventually Stiles said his goodbyes. The pack was staying at the Hale house so he didn't have to drive Scott home like he'd expected to. Stiles walked towards his jeep, feeling that the evening had gone a lot better than he had anticipated. He hopped into the drivers seat and started the engine. He was just about to reverse when the passenger door opened and Derek jumped into the car.
"Um, Derek what are you doing?" Stiles asked slightly confused.
"It's better you don't go home alone in the dark" Derek said tuning to face him.
Stiles swallowed and closed his eyes. Why did everything here have to be so bloody difficult and dangerous. He took some deep breaths to calm himself. When he opened his eyes again Derek was looking at him slightly worried. Stiles laughed at his expression and sighed, "Don't even ask, Derek".
As soon as he pulled into the Stilinski driveway, Stiles killed the engine and jumped out the car. With a quick "thanks Derek" over his shoulder, Stiles dashed to the safety of his house. Once inside Stiles quietly made his way up to his old bedroom, careful not to wake his Dad, who would be in bed at this time of night. Upon entering his bedroom he tore off his sweater and pulled on an old batman t-shirt that had once been too baggy on him. It now fit more closely and showed off his toned muscles. He removed his jeans and was about to slip into bed, wearing his comfy t-shirt and boxers, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Stiles jumped about a mile in the air and let out a small scream. He heard muffled laughter behind him and turned round to see Derek with his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. Stiles glared at him, breathing heavily "Derek! Get the hell out of my bedroom!"
Derek shook his head, not trusting himself to speak with out laughing, however, when Stiles' breathing didn't return to normal he stopped abruptly seeing the panic in the young man's eyes.
"Stiles?" Derek questioned cautiously as he heard the young man's heart beat ricochet out of control and his breathing become erratic.
Stiles felt dizzy. He couldn't breath. He began to fall but strong, sturdy arms caught him before he could hit the floor. He could hear Derek's voice telling him to breathe slowly. Easier said than done he thought. He tried thinking about calming things, like puppies, or flowers but his mind kept screaming WEREWOLF WEREWOLF WEREWOLF!
Derek was kneeling on the floor with the struggling Stiles in his arms. He didn't know what to do. How did someone recover from a panic attack. Stiles looked so scared and in pain, it broke Derek's heart. He stroked the young man's dark hair and tenderly kissed his forehead, "Breathe lowly Stiles! Look at me. Look at me. That's it, now breathe slowly OK. In and out... in and out... in and out..." Maintaining eye contact with Stiles, Derek heard the boy's heart beat gradually begin to slow and become more regular until at last it was normal and his breathing was stable once again.
Realising that he was cradled in Derek's arms Stiles broke the mesmerising eye contact and scrambled up. Derek also stood up and Stiles was suddenly aware of how close the other man was standing. Nervous, he took a step back just as Derek took two steps forwards and trapped him against the wall with his muscled arms either side of Stiles' waist.
"How long have you been having panic attacks Stiles?" He asked gently. Stiles looked down at the floor guiltily but Derek lifted his chin up, forcing Stiles to look into the blue eyes of the alpha.
"About two years..." Stiles mumbled and Derek's eyes widened in shock "I haven't had one this bad for a while though. Normally I can suppress it."
Before he could prevent it a lone tear escaped. Stiles went to brush it away, embarrassed that he was acting this way in front of Derek but before he could even bring his arm up, a soft thumb stroked his cheek and took the tear away with it. Stiles looked at Derek too shocked to speak. Derek had a slight blush covering his cheeks but his eyes dared Stiles to question him.
"Well I never..." Derek chuckled, teasing him "Stiles Stilinski is actually speechless".
"Well I never..." Stiles said, finding his voice and teasing back "Derek Hale actually has a sense of humour".
Both men smiled at each other and Derek moved away, giving Stiles some space. Stiles walked over to his bed and perched on the corner. He beckoned for Derek to come and join him. Derek paused for a second before sitting down next to Stiles.
"What are you doing here Derek?" Stiles asked.
Derek sighed, he knew Stiles wasn't going to like this. "I'm here to protect you. Like it or not I consider you one of my pack. You are human, therefore I have to take more precautions to stop you from getting hurt. As you've probably heard there have been several disappearances lately, I don't want you to be the next missing person. I... I can't let that happen".
"No offence Derek, but why you? And I'm not the only human in your pack, shouldn't you be protecting Alison and Lydia too?" Stiles said rather annoyed, he wasn't the only non-werewolf in the Beacon Hills vicinity.
"Alison has Isaac to protect her and Lydia has Aiden. Plus, you are more important to me."
Stiles frowned, that didn't make sense. He wasn't a vital member of the pack, how was he important. "I don't understand, why am I important?"
Derek didn't answer. Stiles was about to ask him again when suddenly he found a pair of warm lips on his. No frickin' way! Derek Hale was not kissing him right now! Holy shit he was! He was being kissed by Derek frickin' Hale! Derek frickin' Hale!
Derek pulled back and looked at Stiles, his palms slightly sweating and his heart rate up. Stiles stared back at him and could help the huge grin from spreading across his face. Relieved, Derek smiled back at him, they rested their foreheads together and Derek whispered; "You don't even know how long I've wanted to do that for. When you went away I just... I thought I'd missed my chance".