Derek's heart sank the minute Stiles's hand pressed on his head. His heart, heavier than the rest of his body made his decent that much faster. Did Stiles hate him that much, feel that little that he'd just push him away, let him die?
He was going to die. He closed his eyes and let memories, his favourite memories, wash over him like the water in the pool.
He remembered Sunday mornings as a child, scrambling into his parents bed, his grandmother's bacon, his grumpy grandfather telling him about mates and true love and how Derek had scoffed, because that's not a boy thing, his grandfather telling him about mates and true love and how Derek had scoffed, because that's not a boy thing, his mom learning everything there was to know about Lacrosse, his dad giving Derek a cold bottle of beer when he was fifteen and making Derek promise never to tell his mom, Laura teaching him to drive, fighting and laughing and crying together.
His mate, seeing him for the first time, and realising his grandfather hadn't been talking nonsense, he'd been talking truths, that true love was meant as much for Derek as it was for his sisters. The brief touches between them, the touches that Derek both craved and detested that drove him wild and sent cold shivers down his spine. He could picture his face, smiling, teasing, laughing, hating. He knew what he looked like happy, sad, and afraid.
That flash in Stiles's eyes, just moments ago, when he betrayed Derek, when he let him go, let him fall. He forgave his mate, because that's what mates do, he forgave him everything. He had regrets too, that he'd never taken his mate, never claimed him. How could he tell the boy who hated him that Derek wanted to spend eternity with him, where in Derek's short time with Stiles would he manage to fit that in? Derek needed to survive, not for himself, not for his name. He needed to survive for his mate, to protect him.
He'd never planned on telling Stiles, his wolf couldn't handle the rejection, he was going to be happy, he'd find a second mate, one he'd devote his life too, and he'd watch Stiles from afar, watch him grow up, go to college, marry and have kids and maybe Derek would make friends with Stiles, and that would have been enough, it would have been better than the disgust, than the hurt of Stiles saying no. Even as friends Derek would have been there for him, would have got just enough to satisfy his longing, just a touch here and there.
If Derek had the chance again he'd do things differently. For one he'd tell Stiles how he felt, he'd ask him for a chance, just a chance, and if Stiles said no he'd ask to be friends, even if Stiles rejected the friendship at first, Derek would still be there for him no matter what, but that chance would never happen again, and Derek satisfied himself with what he'd already had.
These last few hours, being held by Stiles, in Stiles's arms, they had been the best hours of his life, and yes, Derek had regrets, but he could feel his lungs burning, knew he was beginning to suffocate, the water was closing in on him, and he knew that he was going to die, but he was dying happy because Stiles had held him, legs occasionally tangling, hands on Derek's waist, hips, at one point gripping his thigh, Derek had got…
He was moving upwards, and the hands, they were there again, wrapping around his waist, pulling him to the surface and Derek sucked greedy gulps of air into his starving lungs, and Stiles's arms were around him once again, this time behind him, a chin resting on his shoulder. Stiles arm tightened, his breath ghosted over Derek's ear, his heart was crashing loudly in his chest and Derek knew it had something to do with the exertion of keeping them both afloat, but a tiny selfish piece of him hoped it was something else.
His finger twitched, but Derek ignored it, ignored the healing for now. He'd steal this, these moments, he'd wait as long as possible until Stiles was unable to keep them afloat, and then he'd step in, step up and protect his mate, but for now, this was Derek's moment to take what he wanted, what he so desperately wanted. He closed his eyes and let the water wash around his face, around Stiles's neck, once again.