Title: The Cogs in My Mind Just Won't Stop
Disclaimer: Teen Wolf is owned by Jeff Davis, and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.
Summary: Post-S1, pre-slash, Stiles wonders if they'll ever stop.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, Nightmares, Sleep Deprivation, Hurt/Comfort
Pairings/Characters: Stiles Stillnski, Derek Hale, Stiles Stillnski/Derek Hale (pre-slash)
Word Count: ~1.2 K
Author's Note: So my awesome friend lj user="happyevraftr" put up a couple short little fics in the Teen Wolf fandom. So, curious since I'd heard of the show but not seen it, I read them. Of course, they sparked my interest, so I watched the first episode. A week later and I finished the first season. I have now been sucked into a new fandom. This is my first Teen Wolf fic, so go easy on my, especially, the whole Derek part. It's hard to write someone so…well him and try to keep in character when he's clearly trying to not be his usual grouchy, sour wolf self.
xXx
The first time it happens, Stiles isn't surprised. After what had happened, a few nightmares are welcome compared to say, death, or worse, being in that psychopath's pack. Still, it's a bit disconcerting. He hasn't had nightmares since his mom's funeral. But Stiles just shrugs. Hopefully they'll go away now that that bastard is dead. It's the least he deserved after hurting Lydia.
So as the days and weeks slowly crawl by and the dreams don't stop, he gets a little worried. Or he tries to be worried, but between school, exams, and helping Derek and Scott get used to each other and trying to keep them alive, he's got no time to worry.
Still, a little lack of sleep is worth it. He's finally caught back up in class with all the freed up time not sleeping and doing homework. His grades are back up, he's not stressed about being killed by the Alpha, or at least the ex-Alpha since Derek's the new Alpha and Stiles is pretty sure that Derek wants to kill him, some of the time. The rest of the time, he just hits Stiles or shoves him against the wall or just does that whole growly thing with the eyes that makes Stiles heart skip a beat every time.
Of course, the one good thing about being back on second line is that he doesn't have to work as much as the other guys do. Which is good, because the lack of sleep is starting to get to him. Scott sends worried glances at him every once in a while, but he's so caught up in Allison that he soon forgets every time.
Still, Stiles wants to be able to get more than a few hours of sleep a night. But every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is Peter's eyes that smirk at him, his fangs as he changes. He can hear his voice mocking him. He sees Lydia fall again and again, unable to stop the werewolf. The helplessness that had been coursing through him the whole ride with the man.
That was the first time he had felt truly helpless since his mom's death, unable to help. So he sleeps for a few hours and wakes, rolling out of bed to go onto his computer. He's learning a whole lot about werewolves now that he's got the time. It's amazing what can be found on the internet that the hunters don't even know about. He sits at his computer and fights to keep his sanity.
Derek doesn't mean to come through this side of town. At least not at that moment. He likes to keep patrol, just in case, but he's only one man and can only do so much. Still, he surprised when at three in the morning, he walks down the street to see Stiles' light still on. Wondering what Scott's friend is still doing up at this time, he climbs up the side of the house noiselessly.
He can hear Stiles before he sees or smells him. Can hear his ragged breathing. His too fast heartbeat. The soft noises coming from his throat, half choked off. Then he can smell him. The sharp tang of fear and sweat and adrenalin. Desperation, anger, helplessness…tears.
Frowning, the newly made Alpha climbs closer and peers through the teen's window. Stiles is lying on his bed, thrashing about, eyes clenched closed, breathing ragged. He can hear the soft pained words coming from his throat "no" ringing clearly though the silence of the house.
He's dreaming nightmares, Derek realizes. He climbs through the window, stalking silently over to the teen. Reaching out, he gently shakes Stiles' shoulder. "Wake up, Stiles," he says softly. Stiles still remains asleep. "Wake up," Derek says louder, a growl slipping through his words.
"NO!" Stiles yells, coming awake in a flash, arms flailing, eyes wide and heart pounding as he pants heavily. It's a good thing Stiles' father is working the night shift or he would have been up here in a flash.
He blinks as he realizes he's awake and that Derek is staring down at him with a frown. "Derek?" The werewolf nods. "What are you doing in my room? Jeez creeper much?" he says softly. The kid looks like shit. Dark rings under his eyes, skin pale and clammy. He looks ready to keel over any second.
Derek just grunts, not wanting to explain that he'd been worried about the kid. Grunting one more time, he goes to stand, planning to leave the teen alone now that he's no longer dreaming. He comes up short when a hand grips the back of his leather jacket, latched on.
He looks down to see Stiles eyes are wide and afraid and so tired looking. "Don't go," he says softly, pleading. No sarcastic remarks or witty words. Just two words. Derek sits back down on the edge of the bed. Stiles runs a shaky hand through his slightly longer hair. He's been letting it grow out recently. It looks good that way.
"I…" he swallows heavily. "I can't get him out of my head," Stiles admits, looking down at his fisted hands.
Derek already knows who he's talking about, but says anyways, "Who?"
"Your uncle."
Derek sighs softly, but scoots back until his back is against the wall. Stiles follows, sitting about a foot away, staring across the room. "I…there was nothing I could do. I was just one human against him. I couldn't even protect Lydia. And now, it's like he's still here, mocking me, rubbing salt into the wounds. And even now, I'm still helpless to stop him, even when he's just an image in my mind. I'm just useless, unneeded. I don't even know why you guys put up with me…"
"Stiles," Derek says, cutting the teen off. "Shut up."
Stiles looks over at him, eyes wide. "You are not useless, despite your motor mouth and sarcasm. You're smart and inventive and level headed when none of us can be. I hate to say it, but Scott and I could not have done this without you. So shut up. And if you need help defeating my uncle, I can help if you need it." He can't look at the teen as he says the words, but he can hear the teen's heart skip and his breathing hitch.
"But don't let it go to your big head. I'll still smack you around if you lip off to me, don't think I won't," Derek barks out, glaring down at the teen who's smiling just a little.
Stiles nods. Grunting in return, Derek grabs him by the nape of his shirt and pulls him until he's pressed down on the bed. "Now go to sleep. I'll stay here until you sleep," he growls.
"All right already, sour wolf," Stiles grumbles. But he settles down. His back pressed up against Derek's warm, muscled thigh, curled up in a ball. Derek sits there, listening to Stiles' heartbeats even out, his breathing slowing. He sleeps, probably the most uninterrupted sleep he's had in a while. Derek just stays where he is. He runs fingers through Stile' hair when he's sure the kid's asleep. Stiles just sighs, pressing closer. Derek doesn't leave until the sun starts to rise over the horizon.
End