Stiles didn't expect this. He didn't understand. It didn't make sense! All of the late night phone calls, the secret meetings. The movie nights. It was just a week ago that they were sitting on the couch, bodies pressed together from shoulder to thigh as they watched National Treasure. Stiles had actually leaned against him, resting against his hard chest. And he hadn't been pushed away.
Stiles had cried when he got the phone call from Scott. Derek was dead. He would never know if Derek really felt what Stiles did. Stiles believed he did. Why else would Derek let him call at anytime of the night and listen as Stiles rambled until he fell asleep? But he would never know for sure. Derek was gone.
And then he wasn't. Ethan told Scott they believed Derek was alive. Alive, and hadn't contacted anyone.
The moment the bus stopped, Stiles had jumped off and run to his jeep. He heard Scott calling for him, but Stiles couldn't stop. He had to see, see if it was true. If Derek was alive.
He drove to the loft, barely remembering to put the jeep in park and turn it off before he ran inside and up the stairs. If he was alive… Stiles would do anything for him to be alive. He'd help Scott pass trig, help Isaac train, - hell, he'd even tell his dad what was happening in town.
When he finally got into the loft, Stiles wished Ethan had never said anything. Derek was asleep and clearly still injured – he had to be not to wake up when Stiles walked in.
There were bloody towels around the room, obviously someone had cleaned him up. It wasn't hard to guess who, seeing as Stiles saw his English teacher asleep beside Derek. His naked English teacher. Beside an equally naked Derek.
Stiles had never felt anything so painful in his life. His heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest. He couldn't breathe. This couldn't be real – he had thought… Derek had acted like they… But he was obviously wrong. Derek hadn't felt anything. Hadn't felt the need to tell Stiles he was alive. Hadn't cared enough not to have sex with the English teacher.
How the hell did he even know her? How had this happened? Was Stiles so socially awkward he completely misread the entire situation? Had he just been hanging around, just being the annoying kid this entire time?
Stiles backed away slowly, his gaze never leaving the two people in front of him. Ms. Blake shifted, resting her head against Derek's chest. Stiles choked back a sob, turning on his heel and back out the door.
Derek was alive. Derek was alive and was having sex with Ms. Blake. Stiles swallowed hard, his eyes burning as he ran back down the stairs and to his jeep. He drove off quickly, wanting to get as far away as possible. Though, no matter how far he drove he would still be able to see it. Them. Together.
Ringringring
Stiles looked down, staring at his phone. Scott. "What?" He asked, hoping his best friend wouldn't notice how choked his voice sounded.
"Dude, have you talked to Derek?" Of course he wouldn't, he's Scott.
"No, why would I talk to Derek?"
"With the way you ran out of there, I thought you were going to see if Ethan was telling the truth."
Stiles swallowed hard, once again seeing Derek asleep, Ms. Blake wrapped around him. "Nope. I had to go to the bathroom. Needed to get home."
"Oh," Scott muttered before letting out a deep sigh. "I guess I need to go see if he's alive-"
"Why don't you do that," Stiles said shortly, not wanting to think about the scene Scott was going to walk in on. What if they woke up and started again…?
No, no he wasn't going to think about that. "Uh, alright. I'll call you after-"
"Fine, fine. Bye." Stiles said quickly, shutting the phone off. He couldn't do this. He couldn't just sit there and listen to Scott… he couldn't answer the phone next time, he didn't want to know what Scott was going to say. What Scott was going to see…
Stiles pulled into the driveway, turning off the jeep and leaning his head against the steering wheel. Why was he so upset anyway? He had pined for Lydia for years! He had seen her with Jackson – it wasn't like they hadn't made out in front of everyone every chance they got! So why did this hurt so much? He couldn't care for Derek more than he had cared for Lydia… could he?
Tap tap
Stiles jumped, slamming his head against the roof of the car. "Ow! Sonofa-"
"Stiles, what are you doing here?" Stiles turned his head, only to see Lydia staring at him from outside his window.
"Hey Lyds, what's up?"
"Stiles, why are you at my house?" Lydia demanded, stepping back as Stiles pushed the door open and got out of the car. "Can we talk?"
Stiles knew that Derek was aware something was wrong. Derek had asked everyone to meet at the loft after Scott had told everyone he was alive, and Lydia and Stiles were curled up together on the couch. Stiles was trying to look anywhere but at Derek himself – every time he looked at the man he wanted to throw up.
Lydia, on the other hand, had been sporting a death glare since they walked through the door. Derek had actually growled at the girl twice, but it didn't bother her at all.
Scott kept giving Stiles curious looks, but Stiles just shrugged in response. Scott rolled his eyes.
"So how did you get here?" Cora asked, her eyes never leaving her brother. Like she couldn't look away or he would disappear.
Derek hesitated and Stiles swore he saw Derek look at him. He clenched his jaw, staring down at the floor. "I went to the school," Derek said slowly, "the only person I saw was Jen – uh – Ms. Blake."
"Our English teacher?" Scott asked in shock.
"She brought me back. Cleaned me up." Derek said quickly, talking faster than Stiles had ever heard him talk before.
"And then preceded to get dirty again," Lydia muttered, though she obviously knew everyone in the room could hear her.
"Huh?" Scott asked.
"Something you want to say, Lydia?" Derek demanded, his voice almost a growl.
Stiles pinched Lydia's arm, but the girl ignored him. "If Jen is such a good friend now, why isn't she here?"
"She's going to stop by in a bit," Derek said, not looking toward Stiles as he glared at Lydia, "she was in charge of detention tonight."
Stiles sat up quickly, knocking Lydia off him and earning her glare in the process. "I have to go. Dinner. With my dad."
"It's four o'clock," Isaac drawled, raising an eyebrow.
"He has to work," Stiles said quickly, standing and walking toward the door, "Early dinner. So he can leave."
"Well, then it wont be a problem for you to come back after," Peter said lazily, a smirk on his face.
Stiles glared at the man, "No, sorry, homework. I'll see you all later-" Stiles broke off as the door slowly opened and Ms. Blake stepped inside. Stiles felt his heart skip a beat when he saw the woman, and he knew the werewolves in the room were jumping to conclusions.
Conclusions that were most definitely wrong.
"Oh, Stiles!" Ms. Blake said quickly, her eyes searching behind him and landing on something – or someone. Stiles throat began to burn. "Uh, weren't you supposed to be in detention today?"
Yep. He was. Until he found out who was supervising. "Forgot. Gotta go."
"Mr. Stilinski –" Ms. Blake started, clearly in teacher mode.
"Sorry, Jen," Stiles snapped, glaring at the woman. "I have things more important to do than detention. This meeting had nothing to do with school, therefore you we shouldn't be talking about school things. Because outside of school, you cannot tell me what to do. No matter who you're sleeping with."
Stiles ignored the gasps behind him, as well as Lydia's soft "Stiles!" and walked out the door.
He knew he would pay for that later. Knew Derek was going to come after him. Knew English was going to be very, very awkward. Too bad he really didn't care.