The rescue mission didn't go as well as Stiles had hoped.
He'd spent the ride out, sandwiched between his mentor agent and the head of the training program inside his own head, filling the time with some heroic images. Fueled by the confidence of finally having a gun strapped to his hip, the whole trip he'd envisioned busting in, taking Derek, dragging him out through the gunfire and making their away, consequences be damned.
For a brief moment, there may even have been a vision of a kiss; after all, he was still eighteen and Derek had starred pretty regularly in his fantasies since he had first acknowledged that he wasn't entirely straight.
Instead, the whole thing had been a shit show.
Stiles had taken a bullet to the toe almost as soon as the shooting started. There were hunters and FBI everywhere and somewhere in the midst of the smoke and gunfire, Derek was there, lifting him into his arms and carrying him out.
He may have been screaming.
His toe was missing. It was justifiable.
Derek bundled him into the passenger seat of a car, stripping his jacket and shoving it into the back before pulling his shirt off too, using that to wrap around Stiles' foot.
"Stiles, you need to hold pressure." Derek said, when Stiles continued to wail, his eyes flashed blue and he gripped Stiles' chin, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Stiles." Derek snarled, shocking Stiles into momentary submission.
Stiles stopped screaming.
He blinked.
He raised one hand to rest over Derek's on his neck, the other he slipped up into Derek's hair.
And then he was pulling him down into a kiss.
It was clumsy and kind of awkward; the angle of Stiles in the front seat and Derek half out of the car mixed with the shooting still going on around the building. Derek pulled away, eyes fluttering open.
"It's good to see you've let yourself go, Sourwolf." Stiles said with a small smile eyes darting down to Derek's bare chest.
Stiles then gingerly pulled the bloodied shirt away from his mangled foot, made a squeak and passed out in his seat.
When Stiles awoke, it was to the sight of a seedy motel room.
Derek sat at the small table at the end of the bed, sipping a cup of coffee with the newspaper open in front of him. It was so domestic that Stiles would laugh if it wasn't for Derek's hand around his ankle, taking the pain from his toe.
"How long was I out?" Stiles asked, bunching the pillows behind himself to prop himself up before he grabbed the bottle of water from the night stand and took a long drink. Derek looked up from the paper, picking up his coffee with his free hand.
"About 6 hours." Derek smiled wide, one of his blinding smiles that made Stiles feel funny inside. "It was quite refreshing, I could get a word in for once." Stiles groaned and threw himself back onto the pillows.
"Please tell me the kiss was a pain hallucination, yeah?" Stiles muttered, throwing his arm over his eyes. Derek's smile dropped, and when Stiles pulled the arm away, Derek was focusing intently on his coffee.
"Felt pretty real to me." Derek said quietly. "So the FBI, huh? I swear I have been gone for like five minutes and shit has gone to hell in Beacon Hills and just up and left to become an agent." He said brightly, turning to look at Stiles lying on the bed.
"Yeah, Scott's dad made a call and- shit- I need to call my boss. Wait, what do you mean Beacon Hills has gone to hell?" Stiles said, sitting up, arms flailing as he got himself upright.
"Yeah- Gerrard's back with a bunch of hunters and there is this thing called the Anuk-ite, apparently you idiots let it out of the Wild Hunt and it's trying to piece itself back together. Peter said they are trying to stop it, but don't have any idea where to really start." Derek looked as Stiles' face became red. "And no one rang you."
"And no one called me." Stiles ground out, pulling his phone out of his pants only to find it flat. "When you said I was out for 6 hours, please tell me we are 6 hours closer to Beacon Hills?" he asked, Derek laughed and nodded
"We are. I assumed you were rescuing me so we could go back to deal with this, did I assume wrong?"
"Well I planned it to be more me rescuing you. You know, like the good old days when kanima's guarded the swimming pools of Beacon Hills." Stiles said, leaning back on his elbows and smiling, Derek's hand still gentle on the ankle above his mangled foot.
"And the kiss, was that part of the plan?"
"The kiss, the kiss was a mistake?" Stiles asked, not daring to look at Derek. Sure he'd spent many an evening over the years hoping that Derek would climb in his window and just ravage him, but now it had happened he wasn't sure what to think.
"Oh." When Stiles heard this his head snapped up, looking towards where Derek was now apparently interested in the faded wall paper of the motel wall.
"Unless it wasn't?" He asked tentatively, wincing as he pulled his ankle from Derek's grip, the black veins of the pain he was taking quickly disappearing. Stiles wiggled to the end of the bed, getting in Derek's space, hands reaching out but not game enough to touch Derek.
"I thought this would go away." Derek said quietly, still not looking at Stiles. "This feeling. You were a kid, so it was easy, and your dad would shoot me. But then you were there. I went to get information from the hunters and there you were." Derek dropped his head back, his frustration taking Stiles' breath away.
"I spat my water everywhere when they showed your picture on the first day. You were shirtless, and I don't know if you ever noticed but I get kinda dumb when you take your clothes off." Stiles said softly, Derek snorted and turned his chair putting himself in Stiles' personal space.
"You're always kind of dumb." Derek smiled softly, looking up at Stiles through dark eyelashes.
"Untrue. The FBI was thirsty for all this." Stiles gestured around his body and Derek smiled, grabbing one of Stiles' hands as they flailed and linked their fingers.
"I bet." Derek chuckled, rubbing his thumb over the back of Stiles' hand.
"I missed you, big guy." Stiles whispered, looking up and meeting Derek's eyes, barely a slither of green was left, his pupils blown.
"Stiles, I don't think that kiss was a mistake." Derek whispered, voice thick, leaning in and running his nose up the length of Stiles' neck and breathing deep. Stiles shivered, angling his neck to give Derek better access.
"I'm glad, because I am more than prepared to make that mistake over and over." Stiles whispered back before adding "But despite the heroic rescue I am not just going to fall into bed with you." Derek gave a sharp exhale, resting his forehead against Stiles'.
"But another kiss wouldn't be out of the question?" In response, Stiles just grinned, pressing his lips to Derek's.
Sleeping next to Malia, Stiles was used to being manhandled while sharing a bed.
Like his cousin, Derek seemed to live for being the big spoon. Stiles smiled at the thought, noting the way that Derek seemed to be breathing him in; His deep, steady breaths calming Stiles' heart and lulling him towards sleep.
Unlike his cousin, Derek was gentle in the way he curled around Stiles, hesitant in the way he wrapped his arms around the other man. The heavy muscles of his arms still pliant as Stiles found a comfortable position to sleep so unlike the strong embrace of Malia, holding him down until sleep claimed him.
And the press of something hard against Stiles' ass when he awoke was new too.
"Stop moving, Stiles." Derek said slowly, his voice rough from sleep and muffled from where it was pressed into Stiles neck. "Only sleep."
"I don't think I'm gonna be able to get back to sleep with DJ poking me in the back there, bud." Stiles snorted, wiggling his hips and grinning when Derek tightened his arms around him, halting his movements.
"DJ?" Derek rasped against his ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth causing Stiles arch his neck, giving him more room to work.
"Derek Junior. Apparently he's a big fan of mine." Stiles' smile grew when Derek groaned, letting him go to roll onto his back. Stiles wiggled around to his stomach, propping his head his hands and beaming at Derek. "It's morning Lazywolf. If you wanna keep sleeping in the car I can take first shift."
While Stiles showered and re-dressed his toe, Derek hit the super store they had passed the day before.
While he waited for Derek to come back, Stiles decided it was time to face the music and called his boss at the FBI.
"Stilinski?"
"Hi boss, so ah- I'm gonna need a few days off?" Stiles said, pinching the bridge of his nose and wondering how the hell he was going to talk his way out of this.
"A few days off after you've finished whatever errand McCall has you running?"
"Uh- yeah?" Stiles said, blinking rapidly as Derek walked back in, throwing a brand new duffle bag and a walking stick on the bed.
"I'm supposed to ignore the fact that you were kissing the suspect last night and then disappeared under orders from a higher office than mine, but honestly Stilinski, consider yourself benched from anything except coffee runs for the next month." His boss hissed down the phone at him. Derek's head snapped around, a blush creeping across his face.
"All good boss. I will happily collect every coffee your heart desires when I get back." Stiles stammered, continuing to hold the phone after it had disconnected. Derek had busied himself by rummaging through the bag of Stiles' new things, refolding them onto the bed.
"I'm sorry if you're going to be in trouble." He said, only glancing up when Stiles snorted, shuffling across the room towards him.
"You've met me, right? I've been getting myself into trouble since day one." Stiles grinned at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of Derek's mouth, "Now, about my new underwear. Are they sexy?"
They alternated the drive back to Beacon Hills, stopping in at a clinic in Nevada that a contact of Derek's promised wouldn't ask questions. The layover had eaten time, and they found themselves in another seedy hotel.
Derek went and found dinner while Stiles checked in with Deaton, scribbling furiously in a notebook and thumbing through his phone to double check information.
"Next time we come home, can we please make sure I have my stuff. I would do some dirty, dirty things to have my laptop right now." He told Derek when he returned with burgers and curly fries.
"Damn, if only I'd known I would have swung by your apartment on the way out of the shoot out." Derek deadpanned.
"You joke, but we both know DJ is all about this." Stiles said through a mouthful of burger. Derek snorted, raising his eyebrows and taking a bite from his own burger.
"Clearly his taste leaves a little to be desired."
Stiles had let Derek drive the last leg into Beacon Hills, trying to reach someone in Beacon Hills to gain some kind of location for they got into town.
Finally, using Derek's phone he managed to get Peter on the line, reception so terrible he had to put him on speaker so they could both strain to listen.
"You guys are together?" Peter asked, as they pulled into Scott's house to swap the borrowed car for the Jeep. Derek scoffed at his uncle, glancing at Stiles as he tried and failed to get up in the car, slipping on the side step and hitting the gravel.
"Stiles helped me out. We drove here together, if that's what you mean?" Derek said darkly.
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean, nephew. The fearless alpha is training with Malia and Deucalion in the shipping yards. Lydia and I are on our way there now."
"You're with Lydia? Because that's normal." Derek said, raising his eyebrows at Stiles who was staring at him dumbly from the driver's seat, gesturing him to turn the key in the ignition. Stiles snapped back into focus and the Jeep roared to life.
"Nothing in Beacon Hills has been normal for a long time." Peter said before the line went dead. Derek looked over at Stiles again,
"Stiles, you have to put the car in reverse if you want it to move backwards." Derek deadpanned. Stiles shook his head, slamming the Jeep into reverse and placing his hand behind the passenger seat as he pulled out of the McCall's driveway.
An hour after his return to Beacon Hills, Stiles may have committed vehicular manslaughter or maybe even murder, because he had made little to no attempt not to run down the hunter shooting at his friends.
And honestly, to see Derek launching into battle, it was all worth it.
Derek had ripped through the hunters, cold and methodical, giving the others the upper hand and the battle was over quickly enough. Soon, Stiles was out of the Jeep and hugging Lydia close before calling her on the lack of information sent his way.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me about any of this." He seethed at her when he released her from a hug. "Not a word, not a single word."
"We had our reasons; good reasons." She replied, leading him towards Scott who was kneeling in front of a dying Deucalion.
As he whispered his dying words to Scott, something about Gerard's greatest fears, Stiles wondered why Scott looked sad that Deucalion was dying. The man had tried to kill them all so, so many times. But that was none of his business so instead he took stock of the others, pleased to see that no one else would show any evidence of this battle after a long hot shower. Malia stepped towards Scott, a look of fear on her face.
"It's really started hasn't it?" She asked, eyes focused on their Alpha.
"What, what has started?" Stiles asked, glancing around and locking eyes with Derek who offered him a small shrug.
"It's an all out war." Scott said, turning and stepping forward to wrap Derek up in a crushing hug.
"Oh that's right, werewolf priorities- I'll just stand here while you two just rub all over each other." Stiles said, his anger turning to reluctant happiness when Scott pulled him by his shirt into the hug.
"Why are you here?" Scott said, eyes shining.
"I found a pack slaughtered in Brazil, there were two words written on the wall; Beacon Hills." Derek explained
"You came back for Beacon Hills?" Scott asked earnestly.
"No, I came back for you." Scott's eyes flashed at the open acknowledgement from a beta, but Stiles didn't miss the glance over to him that told him pack wasn't the only reason he had come back.
"As much as I am known for my love of feelings- I would prefer we get somewhere a little less open before we catch up." Peter drawled. Before anyone could answer the police radio in the Jeep came to life and Gerrard spoke, drawing the pack members forward.
"Blood and destruction. Dreadful objects so familiar. All pity choked with custom of fell deeds. Caesar's Spirit, ranging for revenge. With Ate by his side come hot from hell. Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice." The sound of static crackled in the night as they looked at each other, wondering what Gerard was trying to tell them. "Do you know the rest, Scott? Do you know your Shakespeare?"
Scott looked to his pack members blankly, holding the hand piece tight in his hand. Derek made a small noise, and Scott held the hand piece up for him.
"Cry, 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war." Stiles looked at Derek blankly, Lydia looked impressed.
"War, indeed." Gerard said smugly through the radio. "Welcome back, Derek. You must all be feeling rather nostalgic." Gerard went on to goad them, telling them exactly where to find their friends, spread across the town. Stiles pretended not to notice the way Lydia paled when Parrish was brought up, the same way he ignored Derek's questioning eyes when he felt his heart skip when Gerard mentioned Liam.
When it was over, Scott and Stiles sat in the Jeep for a moment, gathering their thoughts.
"So I hate to repeat myself, but I think we can find somewhere safer to plan our next move." Peter said, his voice breaking the silence and sending everyone into a flurry to get to the animal clinic.
They make it back to the animal clinic and stand around the stainless steel table like they have many times before, but this time instead of arguing over cutting off one of Derek's limbs, or over holding down a poisoned werewolf, they argue about the truth and Stiles' toe.
"It was, literally, day one at my internship, and up comes a slide about this guy that they've been chasing in the woods in North Carolina." Stiles began, eyeing Derek.
"I thought you were in South America." Malia asked, looking confused.
"I was. The bodies of the werewolves I told you about? They blamed me." Derek crossed his arms over his chest.
"So I learn that the FBI has cornered this feral mass-murdering unsub" Stiles continued with his story until he was interrupted again by Derek;
"I found a group of hunters gathering in a meeting place and I was trying to get information."
"Well, the FBI found out about it too and they were planning a SWAT assault to take him down.
Dead or alive. And, as we all know, though, with Derek, it's preferably dead." The other three pack members looked between them with raised eyebrows
"Preferably." Derek nodded in agreement sourly.
"So I convinced them to take me on the Field Op."
"You convinced the FBI to bring an intern onto an extremely dangerous field operation?" Lydia asked flatly, mimicking Derek's position of arms crossed tightly over his chest.
"I'm surprised he didn't convince them he could lead it." Derek sassed, the others giving them a strange look.
"I tried." Stiles admitted "Didn't work. Anyway, long story short, I basically, you know, had to save his life." He went off into the version of the story he had imagined on the drive, where he was the hero, rushing in to save his man, strategically leaving out any mention of a kiss.
"That's not how it happened." Derek rolled his eyes so hard Stiles thought he may actually pull something. Surely Derek could just let him have this one thing.
"Yeah. I may have left out a detail, but that's the gist of what happened. It was the essential essence of it." Stiles muttered, Derek nodded his head and smirked at him, turning his body towards Stiles.
"You couldn't walk." He said simply.
"I was limping."
"You couldn't walk and I know that because I was carrying you."
"shot my toe." Stiles whined "You want to see it? My toe was caught in the crossfire. It was obliterated." Scott was looking between them with a small smile on his face, seeming to be glad that even though they were in the middle of an all out war, some things never change.
"Okay, forget your toe." Lydia joined in on the eye rolling.
"Obliterated." Stiles repeated quietly, and Derek lent over to pinch his arm, making him jump.
Lydia hummed, seeming pleased when Derek moved slightly closer to Stiles, a small smile on his face.
"Guys, it's not just the hunters. We've got another problem." Scott explained, pulling everyone back.
"It's called the Anuk-Ite." Lydia elaborated, Stiles lent forward on the table, eyes darting as though he was shifting through his thoughts trying to place the name of the creature.
"It can get into your head. It can make you see things." Scott added
"What does it look like?" Stiles asked, wishing again that he'd had a chance to grab his computer.
" It used to look like two ordinary people. But somehow they merged. All we know is that it's made of two faces." Lydia said seriously "One human. The other supernatural."
"And it's a shapeshifter, just like us." Scott added, looking at Derek and flicking his eyes to Malia "But it knows what you're afraid of. What you fear most."
"And now it can kill you just by looking at you." Malia chimed in.
"Okay, so you're telling me we gotta go up against this thing blind? And face our deepest fear?" Stiles said, looking at his friends, slightly skeptical.
"Yeah. Why? What do you fear the most?" Scott said quickly,
"Blindness." Stiles replied just as quick.
"Becoming blind?" Derek asked seriously.
"Yeah, terrified of it. Always have been. This just seems to be a situation of unfortunate overlap." Stiles said, earning another pinch from Derek.
"Lydia, you and Stiles need to find Argent, get to the Armory, rescue Jackson." Scott said, going into commander mode, clearly finally comfortable in his position as alpha.
"I don't think we have time to wait for him. I've gotten through those doors once, anyway. I can do it again." Lydia waved him off, looking just as confident
"Can we slow it down just for one second, make sure I'm grasping this? So, we're actually talking about doing this? We're gonna do exactly what Gerard wants us to? Is that right?" Stiles looked between all his friends, shuffling closer towards Derek.
"I think that if we stop the Anuk-Ite, we stop it all." Scott said seriously, a critical look on his face as he glanced between them
"Stopping this thing can stop Gerard and the hunters?" Derek asked shifting his body to allow for Stiles to move closer into his space, a movement that years ago would have surely resulted in Stiles' death.
"Not all of them are hunters." Scott shook his head in disbelief at his friends.
"He's right. Most of them are ordinary people acting out of fear." Lydia sighed "Monroe's not gonna change but I think that we can reach the others. The Anuk-Ite is causing them to come from a place of fear."
"Well, fear's pretty motivating." Derek muttered, focusing on the fluttering of Stiles' heart next to him and the heat radiating off his body.
"Especially when it leads to anger. And I think that if we can take out the fear, we can take out the fight in them too." Scott added "They're afraid of us, but they don't have to be. They just have to change their minds."
"Well, we have to change their minds."
Okay, we can face the Anuk-Ite." Malia breathed deep, seeming to summon courage "We can try to fight it blind. We can try to face our fears. But we still need to know how to catch it."
"We will figure that out. We always do." Scott said firmly, his jaw set.
"Oh, it is nice to see that somebody hasn't lost their optimism. " Derek gave a small smile.
"Not yet." Scott said quietly, nodding his head.
"I have." Stiles added, reluctance rolling off him as he leant into Derek's side, earning another raised eyebrow.
"We will buy you time, Scott. Who knows? Maybe Jackson has an answer." Lydia rolled her eyes at Stiles again, making Stiles wonder what they had done for their ocular health while he was away.
"Maybe Argent will come back with one." Malia added, trying to sound helpful.
"You two." Scott nodded to Malia and Derek "You're with me. And we need Peter. Anyone who can help stop this thing or slow it down."
"Where are we headed? Scott I have to tell you- if there is a chance to take down Kate in all this. I'm going to take it" Derek said, Scott nodding in understanding.
"The high school." Scott stated, standing up straight, sounding sure of himself.
"That's where we're gonna find this thing?" Derek asked, sucking in the scent of Stiles next to him and holding his breath, not sure when he would see him next.
"No. It'll find us."
Before they could leave the animal clinic, Stiles had hurled Derek into a small store room and pushed him against some shelving.
"I'm not in the business of making mistakes because I am as scared and I'd regret it if I just let you go" he hissed before joining their lips, using the fists he had balled in Derek's shirt to pull him in and hold him in place.
Just as suddenly as he had attacked, he was gone, leaving Derek to wonder just when he might be able to get them on equal footing.
It was after he had burnt out the wolf's bane used to poison Scott that he caught the scent. Definitely shape shifter, but angry, sour and wrong.
The smell of Kate Argent.
He couldn't control his shift, following the scent out of the school and towards the armory, his eyes glowing icy blue.
Revenge had never felt so close.
This time, for once, the rescue of Jackson had gone perfectly. Lydia had taken out the guards and Stiles had kicked down the door, not that anyone was appreciating that right now, particularly when Jackson asked after Ethan.
"I need you to get me something." Scott had said on the phone when he called to confirm they had Jackson and and would be heading to the school. He had left the others with a reminder to keep their eyes shut and a promise that he would see them soon.
Scott's shopping list had only one item on it and he found it easily enough. Just as he reached out a hand to grab the vial he was after, a sharp blow to the back of the head forced him forward and into darkness.
The moment Derek set foot into the armory, he knew something was wrong.
He could smell Jackson, the scent was easy to pick; even without alpha powers, he had still been the one to give Jackson the bite and that memory was engraved into his DNA, bonding them even still.
He could smell the living twin, no longer an alpha just like him, and mingled with Jackson's smell. Derek's lip twitched, two American werewolves in London, finding each other.
He could smell Lydia, the scent of the banshee another familiar one.
But the smell of Stiles was faint.
Meaning Stiles had gone in, but not come out.
Stiles came to in time to see Gerard shoot Kate and walk away, the hiss and sizzle of poison quickly rising from the wound on Kate's thigh as her body fought to heal.
Gerard walked away. And Stiles gaped.
After everything. Victoria, Allison, his illness, Chris fighting from the other side.
And he just straight up shot his daughter and walked away.
Kate snarled and snapped, her eyes flashing and skin turning blue as she writhed on the floor. Slowly she pulled herself up, her head snapping around when she noticed Stiles trying to get to his feet.
Stiles remembered a speech the Argents used to give about rabid dogs and here he was, trapped in a cage with one.
Derek followed the trail of scent deep into the armory to where it was thick with fear. The wolf in his chest rising to the surface at the thought of his mate in danger, his rage directed at Kate until he walked into the heart of the armory and when he saw her, crouched over Stiles, the sickening smell of a poisoned beast flooded his senses and he saw red.
Stiles' blood was pounding in his ears, drowning out the sound of the two supernatural creatures tearing at each other
He watched in horror as Kate pinned Derek to the ground, her teeth bared over his neck and somehow proving that an animal was most dangerous when wounded.
Just to his left was a hand gun, something new and sleek and shiny that he knew if it was loaded had plenty of fire power. With no time to check, Stiles launched himself up and forward, forcing the gun to the back of Kate's head and pulling the trigger.
"Come on" Stiles said to Derek, rolling Kate off of him and pulling him to his feet "Your clothes are still in the car, you can change on the way to the school."
In the end, the Anuk-ite had been the instrument of its own downfall, not realizing the rules that come with shapeshifters in its quest for power.
Classic mountain ash and a little spark saves the day once again.
Now Stiles was standing in front of his best friend, who had crushed his own eyes, while his ex-girlfriend rushed into the room.
"Scott? He's not healing? Scott, what happened to your eyes?" A pretty good question as far as Stiles was concerned.
"I had to. I'm sorry." Scott gripped Malia's hands where they rested on his cheeks, and Stiles wondered how long had this been going on for?
"Scott, you have to heal." Derek barked, and Stiles looked at him in disbelief; no shit Sherlock "If your eyes stay like this much longer, the damage is gonna be permanent."
"Come on, Scott. Concentrate." Malia pleaded
"I'm trying." Scott whispered, the fear in his voice obvious. Trust Scott, only getting scared when the fear monster was destroyed.
"It's not working." Malia looked up at them, her eyes wide with panic.
"I can't focus."
"Hey, hey, look at me." And Stiles scoffed, getting him a shove from Derek. Scott shook his head, making a whining noise. "Yes, you can. Just concentrate."
"I can't, I can't, I can't do it." Scott shook in her arms and for a moment, Stiles wondered if maybe he couldn't heal, maybe this was a sacrifice that needed to be made.
"Yes, you can. Scott, please just look at me."Malia pleaded.
"Malia." Lydia cleared her throat, stepping forward "Kiss him."
"What?" All eyes were on Lydia and maybe this was just her solution for everything; panic attacks, crushed eyes; nothing true love's kiss couldn't solve.
"Kiss him." She said again and Malia did. When she pulled away, Scott's eyes fluttered open and clearly, Dr Lydia and her prescription of True Love's kiss had some weight to it.
Stiles looked up at Derek, who rolled his eyes as Malia and Scott kissed and Scott's eyes were magically better. Stiles pulled a face and clapped his hands together.
"Well then, I don't know about you- but I am so freaking done with this school. Time to blow this popsicle stand!"
Back at Scott's, Derek sheep-dogged Stiles into the upstairs bathroom, stripping them down to their underwear and placing them into a plastic bag he had pulled from the kitchen on his way through the house. They were wordless as Derek pushed at Stiles until he was standing under the scalding spray, before he stepped in behind him.
Derek was methodical as he lathered Stiles with soap, his fingers firm as he massaged shampoo into his hair, his face soft as he took care, turning Stiles and paying attention to cleaning Stiles' hands.
Stiles choked back a sob, flashes of memories from the Nogitsune, Donovan impaled on the scaffolding and rolling Kate's lifeless body off of Derek suddenly overwhelming him.
Derek pressed forward, attempting to hold Stiles together with his bare hands and sheer force of will.
"Stiles you saved me." Derek rasped, voice raw and face open and vulnerable. He cradled Stiles' face in his hands, thumbs brushing away the tears. "You did so well."
"It should have been you." Stiles whispered and Derek looked at him, puzzled. "Kate- if I was you I would be so mad. If she had done to me what she did to you- If she had killed my dad- I would only accept being the one to kill her." Derek shook his head in awe, and leaned forward to press a kiss to Stiles' forehead.
"You saved me, dumbass." Derek whispered back and Stiles gave him a sad smile. "I will never hate you for saving me." A knock sounded at the door, bursting the bubble of intimacy as Malia pounded on the door. Stiles dropped his head to Derek's shoulder for a moment, breathing deep before reaching for the shampoo, pouring more than necessary into his hand and rubbing it into Derek's hair, taking great care to catch any remnant of blood or other matter until he was happy Derek was squeaky clean.
Wrapped in Melissa's best fluffy towels, Stiles grabbed the duffle they had left in the hallway and pulled Derek into Scott's room to dress.
"So, you're a Shakespeare nerd huh?" he asked with a blush when Derek pulled off his wet briefs, letting out a weak laugh when they were promptly hurled at his face.
Downstairs, there was a meeting in the kitchen well underway. The Sheriff was leaning against the kitchen counter, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand and his sheriff's badge, newly returned in the other. Raph McCall leant against the island, his iPad open in front of him and Chris Argent sitting at the kitchen table.
Derek dropped Stiles' hand at the sight of the three men and Stiles rushed forward, throwing his arms around his father and holding on tight for a good moment. Derek blushed at the harsh questions the Sheriff whispered into his son's ear. Rubbing the back of his neck and wishing that he hadn't been so hasty throwing his clothes on post shower, Derek sat at the table, nodding at Chris.
"So- nobody speaks unless directed." Raph said formally, laying his badge on the bench. Derek raised his eyebrows at Stiles when the Sheriff placed his badge next to Raph's and then covered them both with a tea-towel. "So tonight when you two arrived at the Armory with Chris, you walked in on the aftermath of all family disputes. You saw that Gerard had shot Kate, and she had turned on him and killed him before succumbing to her own injuries. Chris you believe this to be a true and faithful account."
"That's what happened." Chris nodded solemnly,
"Derek?" Derek nodded, looking up at Stiles who was leaning against his dad, having stolen the coffee from him.
"Stiles?" Stiles swallowed thickly before nodding and Raph shut down his iPad. "Well now that that's sorted, I am due back at the hospital to tie some ends. Noah- need a ride?" The Sheriff grunted in reply, kissing his son's hair and picking up his badge. On the way out the door he paused for a moment, considering Derek. He gave him a sharp exhale before smiling gently and shaking his head, leaving the house.
Chris stood, downing the last of his coffee. Derek stood too.
"Chris, I'm-"
"Derek if you finish that sentence I will shoot you." Chris deadpanned. "My family was lost to me a long time ago- you boys did nothing worse than what I haven't done myself." He offered a sad smile. Picking up his coat and leaving the room.
"Well. That happened." Stiles came to rest against Derek's side. "Dad said 'about time'."
"I heard."
The holiday had been Derek's idea; a hint of a memory from when he was a child and his mother would order every member of their pack together for a week; where they would draw on each other's strengths and leave feeling whole and loved.
Peter had smiled when Derek brought it up, pulling out his phone.
"Leave it to me nephew mine."
The house that Peter had found was a joke. Set on a cliff overlooking the sparkling ocean. When the others raced up the stairs to claim bedrooms, Derek had grabbed Stiles' hand, leading him down a hallway on the first floor and into a luxe bedroom, light curtains blowing in the breeze coming from the open doors to the outside patio and private garden.
"Let the others fight it out for upstairs." Derek said with a shy smile. It had been a rough ride out here. Somehow they had assumed that Scott would take back the jeep and Stiles would ride with Derek. But leaving Scott's house, Stiles had been thrown keys, while he watched longingly as Jackson, Ethan and Isaac had piled into Derek's car. Scott jumped into the passenger seat of the jeep while the others evened themselves out in the other cars. Stiles raised an eyebrow when Liam didn't hesitate in jumping in the front seat of Theo's truck like it was the most natural thing in the world- making a mental note to discuss that with Scott on the road.
Instead Stiles had spent the drive thinking long and hard about the look on Derek's face as looked at him before getting into his car and starting the journey.
"You wanna be my roomie?" Stiles said, moving into Derek's space and wrapping his arms around the werewolf's neck.
"Well." Derek smiled one of his rare, genuine smiles. "I guess that's a start."