General notes
So I haven't been writing for a while, but I'm back, sort of. I won be continuing any of my previous stories for the simple reason that I'm not the same person I was back then. I won be working on any anime fanfiction.
I originally posted this on AO3, but I figured that this fits my writing style better so I will post it on as well. This takes place after the Nogitsune arc with a few change: Nobody died, Scallison is still going strong, Kira is dating Cora, who stayed around. They are visiting Cora's other pack in Argentina.
Chapter notes
Summery: The Light makes Derek feel so safe. It protects him from his nightmares and keeps him company during the night. The Light doesn't judge Derek, doesn't mock him or blame him. Derek loves the Light.
ANGST WARNING! Lots of Derek Feels. You have been warned.
This taken place before the events of the first chapter and from here we will keep a chronological order.
Stiles doesn't know about Kate or Paige in this fanfic.
I hope you like it, let me know what you think.
Derek doesn't deserve to be happy.
"I don't deserve to be happy."
He's a monster.
"I'm a monster."
He killed his family.
"I killed my family."
He's told himself these things for years, it started shortly after Paige, the faintest hint of a whisper trying to lure him in and take him. After the fire the whisper became a cold, harsh sneer ringing loudly through his head in the familiar voices of his lost pack. Then Laura died and the voices screamed at him, tormented him. It was worse when he slept because then it wouldn't just be voices, and he would see them, burned, bloody, furious. Night after night their screams, their taunts, their accusations would haunt him, hunt him, claw at him until he woke up with a start, sweaty, panting and with the smell of burning flesh still in his nose. Sometimes he wouldn't sleep at all and instead he would go running in the preserve or read, anything to escape the torment.
He woke up screaming once, his cheeks wet with tears and his bottom lip bloody from where he had bit through it. In that moment he had felt a sort of relief that he was alone in his loft, but it had a bitter taste to it because while he was glad that no one had seen him in such a pitiful state, a small part of him desperately wished for someone to comfort him, to hold him and tell him it was ok, even when it really wasn't. He endured though, he continued to shoulder the burden himself and not bother others with the mess he's made. He didn't deserve compassion.
Then something changed, something else invaded his dreams and chased away the pain, something loud and bright and wonderful. It's light creeping in, driving the darkness away, slowly. The screams were muffled by it's sound, a wonderful sound, full of warmth and laughter. The nightmares were still there, but sometimes he could turn away from them, from the faces and voices of people that now only existed in his head, and face the Light. Sometimes it would hurt, the Light could be so bright that his eyes burned with it, but never had he seen something so beautiful. Sometimes the Light flickered and dimmed and it was almost worse than the nightmares because he knew he couldn't live without that Light. He'd try to save the Light, he'd talk to it soothingly, telling it that it was alright, that it wasn't alone. Once, when he had been particularly desperate and the Light had almost completely faded he had begged it not to leave him, "Please. Please don't go. Don't leave me please. I'll die." and the Light had responded. It had lit up, it wasn't as bright and vibrant as it had usually been, but in shined still. Derek thought that maybe I shone for him, that it was tired and sad and wanted to stop shining, but that it remained simply because Derek needed it.
The Light had been present in his dreams for months now, yet he had never touched it. He had spoken to it, cried to it, stared at it for what felt like an eternity but what was likely only a few hours, but he'd never touched it. He felt he didn't have the right, that the Light wasn't really his to touch. He felt so grateful that the Light had been there for him, saved him, stayed with him, but he knew it didn't belong to him. If anything, Derek belonged to the Light. He cherished it, admired it. He loved it.
There were nights though, where even the Light's brightness and music couldn't completely drown out the nightmares and he would be pulled back in his guilt and his punishment. Like tonight. He had visited the burned remains of his childhood home and had somehow stumbled upon a locket, a very familiar locket. It was burned and slightly damaged, but he recognized it. It was the locket he had given his Nana, who he'd been very close to, with his first paycheck from his first job. She'd scoffed and said he should have spent the money of videogames or a pair of new shoes or porn or whatever young people spend their money on these days. Nonetheless, she'd smiled and put it around her neck and she'd never taken it off since. Derek squeezed the locket so tightly that his knuckles turned white and he was sure that if he opened his hand now he would see a clear outline of the locket pressed into his hand. Then he'd gone back and pretended that nothing had happened.
And there he was, with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands pressed tightly over his ear in an attempt to drown out the wailes and the hateful sneers from his beloved Nana. He wanted to turn around and face the Light, wanted to let the Light seep into his very being and destroy these false images of the people he had loved so much, but he couldn't. He stood rooted to the spot and couldn't bring himself to turn around, because he deserved this. He deserved the venom, the hate, the accusations. It was his fault they were gone. All his fault.
"Derek?"
It was the Light, Derek realized.
"Derek?"
The Light had never spoken to him before. It had laughed and hummed and buzzed, but it had never spoken.
"Derek?!"
He turned towards the Light and stared in wonder. That voice, it sounded wonderful. He wanted to hear more.
"Derek! Wake up!"
What? Why? Derek didn't want to wake up. If he woke up the Light would be gone. He didn't want the Light to leave. He wanted the Light to stay and keep talking to him.
"Derek, come on man. Wake up!"
He didn't want to wake up, but if that's what the Light asked of him then he would do it. He would do anything for the Light.
The Light changed, shapes appeared in the Light. He blinked. That was an eye, those were two eyes. The Light had eyes. They were beautiful eyes. A warm mixture of honey and whiskey with flecks of gold. So beautiful.
The eyes looked worried, and a little scared. Why was the Light scared? It wasn't scared of Derek, was it? Derek would never hurt the Light, never.
"Derek, I need you to wake up ok? I'm freaking out here."
The Light sounded worried and scared too. There was a slightly panicked pitch to it's voice. Derek needed to wake up. He needed to wake up because the Light was scared and wanted him to wake up. He had to wake up.
"Derek?"
"Derek?"
"Derek?"
Derek opened his eyes and saw a face before him, a face with the most beautiful golden honey eyes. The eyes of the Light. The eyes… of Stiles. It was Stiles face hovering over him worriedly. Derek could only stare at him, because for the first time he could see the Light with both of his eyes wide open, and it was beautiful.
"Derek, are you ok? You were just sleeping and then you just started screaming and I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't and I didn't know what was happening because you seemed fine earlier and I thought you were dying, wait are you dying? You might still be dying. Should we call Deaton? I think we should call Deaton!" Stiles rambled and on his face Derek could see fear. Derek could only imagine what it must have looked like to Stiles.
He shook his head, "No, I'm fine." he said and made to get up off the couch where he had crashed after several hours of him looking through books and Stiles scoping the internet and compiling all of their findings in a document. Stiles looked unconvinced and asked "Are you sure dude? It looked pretty bad?", but Derek just shook his head again and waited for a few seconds before saying "It was just a nightmare, don't worry.". Immediately Stiles demeanor changed and Derek could see that he understood. He knew. "Do you want to talk about it?" Stiles asked, and it was actually meant as a question. Stiles was giving him an option and he would accept whatever answer Derek gave him. If Derek said yes he would sit with him for hours and listen, if he said no then Stiles would let it go, would never mention it again unless Derek brought it up. He wouldn't judge Derek.
Derek hesitated, this was what he'd wanted, someone to be there for him, to care about him. But could he do it, could he really open himself up like that? He instinctively shied away from that idea, but then he thought, he had trusted the Light even though he didn't know why. The Light had kept him safe and sane and now, with Stiles by his side looking for all the world like he wanted nothing more than to take the burden that Derek has been carrying for so long and carry it with him, he feels it. He feels the warmth and the security of having someone to care about you and help you and knowing you could always trust on them to come and fight with you when you couldn't do it alone anymore. And Derek did trust Stiles, trusted him more than anyone else because Stiles was trustworthy. Stiles was loyal to a fault and there was nothing he wasn't willing to do, no moral he wasn't willing to discard, for those he cared about, and Derek was in that circle too, he knew he was. The thing that made Stiles so dangerous was also what made Derek trust him with his life.
Stiles was damaged, just like him. They'd both suffered loss and the devastating way your whole life could fall apart when someone you love suddenly wasn't there anymore. Derek had had Laura to help him cope, even if he hadn't been able to truly show her the extend of his guilt. Stiles, despite still having his father in his life, had gone through that pain alone and at a much younger age than Derek had. Derek knew that the Sheriff had turned to the bottle for comfort when his wife had died rather than help Stiles cope with the loss of his mother and while Derek could understand to some degree, he also resented the Sheriff for it because he sometimes wondered if Stiles would still have that aged and tired look behind his eyes if his father had stepped up and been there for him more. He wondered if Stiles wouldn't be so indifferent about his own happiness and well being while worrying non-stop about his friends and family. He knew that the Sheriff loved his son and that he was a pretty good father, but he also knew that even good parents could really mess their kid up.
Stiles was the Light, he realized. Stiles was loud and bright and warm. Stiles shined, even when he was tired and just wanted to stop, but he didn't because, whether they realized it or not, so many people relied on the shine.
"I found this locket at the old house." he said, because he could. He could talk to Stiles about this because Stiles wouldn't mock him or judge him or blame him, Stiles would listen. Stiles cared and most importantly, Stiles understood.
He spend the rest of the three hours until sunrise telling Stiles short, insignificant stories about his family, about that time they went to the beach and Laura made some kid cry when he ran into her, making her drop her ice cream and causing her to shift in anger. He told Stiles about his cousin, who had been human and was really smart and how he and Stiles would have probably been the best of friends. It wasn't much, he didn't tell Stiles about the nightmares, the guilt and the self-loathing. He doesn't tell Stiles about Paige and Kate and how dirty he feels every time he thinks about what she did to him. He doesn't tell Stiles the big stuff, but it's enough. He cried a bit, but doesn't show it, and Stiles doesn't bring it up even though Derek knows he saw. He feels lighter at the end and while all of the pain and the anger is still there, it isn't as stuck any more. For the first time Derek genuinely believes that he could be alright some day.