I Do Not Own Teen Wolf.
Derek had always treated Erica better than he did most of the other pack members. It's a large, and highly plausible, rumor going around in their rag-tag group that they're dating and that the pretty blonde is his mate. This really sucks to know when you have to sit there and watch the way they act together, especially when you're in love with the alpha. And this is what Stiles has to do everytime Scott drags him to a pack thing.
He knows he's not part of the pack, Derek has made it pretty clear he didn't need, rather he didn't want, him. The alpha wouldn't ever want him. He's just a pitiful human who can't even protect himself. And he isn't even needed for research since any of the other members could easily do that.
He knows all this, yet it's a kick to the gut when the two actually come out and say they're courting each other.
Stiles had known from the moment he was told Erica was pack, that he would never get a chance to tell Derek about his feelings. And maybe he had been hopeful before, maybe he had actually started telling himself it wouldn't be that bad to tell him. Maybe he was almost filled up with enough courage to tell the alpha. Now he really had no chance.
So he keeps his emotions bottled up, duct-taped shut, and shoved to the the back of his mind. And maybe him doing that makes him distance himself from the pack. No one has noticed, so he just continues to back out.
He comes to as few pack meetings as he can, always making up excuses, and he's found a way out of going to the training sessions. He's not a werewolf, so why should it matter if he's there or not? Derek had said he didn't need to come to them since he just sits and does nothing.
His heart really didn't shatter when the alpha told him that. It didn't. Stiles just nodded and tried to hide his devastated expression while he left. The stupid werewolf could probably smell the tears clinging to the corners of his eyes but he didn't care. Not anymore. He was allowed to show a little but of emotion. . . Wasn't he?
So here he is now, sitting on the couch of the refurbished Hale house, listening to the werewolf news that didn't concern a silly human like himself. He tuned in every now and then, keeping a happy look on his face so no one suspected a thing. And they didn't seem to. They never did.
Allison and Scott were curled up together at the end of the couch. Isaac was sitting with Boyd up against the couch. Lydia was laid out on a blanket on the floor using Jackson as a pillow.
And sprawled all over each other in the corner on the loveseat, were Derek and Erica.
Stiles just tried to push himself as far into the couch cushions as he could. He really hated watching the two smile at each other, hands together, as close to the other as they could be without having sex. It made him want to carve his own heart out and lock it in a chest. Like Davy Jones.
It seemed everyone but Stiles had a significant other. Only Boyd and Isaac weren't actually together, just extremely close. But he really was all alone. He just couldn't do this anymore.
So he stood up, making Derek pause in the news sharing and ask him what he was doing.
"Leaving," he said and did just that. He tried to get as far away from the pack as he could.
Stiles called his dad and told him he was staying at a friend's house until Sunday. He went home to grab some things, make his lie actually seem like the truth, took all the money he had in his room and left.
He drove as far as he could, as long as he could, until he was too tired and almost out of gas. Stiles pulled over and slept in the his jeep outside of a store. No one came up to question this. It was a twenty-four hour store anyways.
He woke in the morning to the sound of someone knocking on his window. Lifting his head and looking up, he saw Derek standing there. He just grumbled and flopped back down, closing his eyes and pretending to go back to sleep. How had the stupid man found him so easily? It really wasn't fair.
Another knock came so he just looked at him. Didn't get up, didn't say anything. Just watched the werewolf. And then he whimpers. Full on whimpers like a puppy, as he watches Erica come up behind the alpha and take his hand. She looks at Stiles with a worried look. Really? She wasn't fooling him with her "sweet" act.
Derek smiles at her and taps on the window again.
"Stiles, roll down the window or I will rip the door open."
Well, he really didn't want a broken door so he rolls the window down. Why didn't he drive further last night? Oh right. . . Because the tears leaking from his eyes in a love-sick-teenage-girl fashion prevented him from really seeing.
"What, Derek? Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?" he snaps angrily.
"Don't pull that tone with me. I'm your alpha and I won't be treated like I'm less."
Stiles laughs. He actually laughs. It may be bitter sounding but at least he's let some form of laughter leave his body. It's been too long since he's done that.
"You really believe that Derek? You really think you're my alpha? You've never been my alpha and you never will be."
Erica lets out a soft growl but stops when Derek squeezes her hand.
"If you're part of my pack, I'm your alpha."
"I'm not part of your pack. You've made that pretty clear," Stiles says this angrily, though the last part was more of a whisper, and it almost please him to see the older male's eyes widen. Almost. "So if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to being alone."
So Derek leaves, and Stiles knows this is the last time they'll ever talk.
Just like he thought, they don't speak to each other or even see each other for the next few months. Stiles doesn't attend any meetings, he stays clear of any places he knows Derek and Erica frequent. He just goes to school, ignores the pack, or do they ignore him?, and does his homework. He has no extra work on the sides. No werewolf projects or lacrosse. He quit after awhile, knowing he'd never be good enough to make first line and actually play. So it's school then home. Every day.
Then Scott decided he would drag him to something. They hadn't spoken for weeks and now, out of the blue, he just decides they're going to go out. Too bad the stupid werewolf hadn't told him before hand that everyone was going to be there. Including Derek and his mate-to-be. Thanks Scott, he thinks, really.
Derek just looks at him, snarls lowly and looks away. Stiles hides his face by turning away, wishing, oh he was wishing, that he had been able to get rid of those feelings. Too bad he couldn't.
Allison seemed to be at least a little happy to see him. Everyone else just dealt with his presence. They didn't make him feel welcome but not really overly alone. Stiles could tell they were no longer comfortable around him. He understands why.
So halfway through the night he decides it's time for him to leave. Obviously no one but Scott wanted him there, so he thanks his friend and leaves.
He doesn't see any of them for two more months. They all just ignored him, acted like he didn't exist. And he got it. He knew why. He was no longer welcome around any of them. He wasn't pack, wasn't their friend. So as long as they didn't want him, he wasn't allowed. And that made him feel more alone than when his mom had died.
He just makes his way through the rest of the year. Gets top honors in some of his classes. makes A honor roll. And his dad is finally proud of him. So he's happy for at least a week or two, thriving off his father's own happiness. He's dropped so low he lives off other people's good emotions. He's fallen so far he can't get back up. At least he's happy for a little while.
But now it's summer and he has nothing. Doesn't have anyone to do anything with, so he just ends up alone in his room most of the time. And when he doesn't want to do that, he visits his mother's grave, and maybe he visits Laura Hale's, but he would never admit to that.
Scott comes around again with happy news. He finally got around to mating Allison. Stiles was happy for him, he really was, he just didn't know how to express it. The werewolf tells him all the updates on the pack with a happy face.
Lydia is getting stronger, better at fighting, and her wits are outsmarting everyone. She's going to be graduating a year early, Jackson finally got her to give in to them being together again and the two are closing in on the actual mating
Stiles is happy for the girl. She really deserves this. Happiness in her life. And he hates to say it, but so does Jackson.
And he hates to ask even more than he hates to admit Jackson deserves something, but he asks anyway. And he got his answer, though with some hesitation.
So he really knew now. He had no place in the pack. No one to stand by and be wanted by. He doesn't have even a small faction of a chance with Derek Hale. The alpha had gone and given everything to Erica. They were forever, and nothing could change that.
How had he ever thought he had a chance? Really, he doesn't know. But he wishes he had never gotten his hopes up.
Stiles sat quietly down on his bed, pushing back tears he knew would wall when Scott left. He told his friend thanks for everything he'd done and the lacrosse player left with a sad smile. And then the tears fell and didn't stop till after he had fallen asleep and then some afterwards.
The next morning was even worse. He went to see his mom, wanting to tell her everything that had happened, and when he gets there Derek is visiting Laura's grave. With Erica. Sharing with the girl something he hadn't shared with anyone before. Not even the other pack members.
Stiles can feel his lip quiver when he sees the two so he just bites it and walks passed them, hoping they don't notice. He lays the flowers, a small bouquet of orchids and lilies, his mom's favorites, down on her gravestone and literally just breaks down.
He doesn't say anything, just bites his lip harder and tries to quiet his sobs. Stiles keeps wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his red hoodie, yelling at himself, mentally, for being so stupid and letting his emotions show while the werewolf is nearby. He hates showing how weak he is.
Stiles continues to sob into his sleeves about everything, keeping his lip in contact with his teeth and not even caring that he's bleeding. It doesn't even settle in his mind that someone is sitting next to him until he feels a hand on his shoulder.
He hiccups and scoots away in shock. Erica is looking at him sorrowfully, trying to calm him down. Stiles gets up quickly and leaves, wiping at his eyes frantically. Her eyes follow his movements and then switch to Derek as she sighs.
Erica gets up to leave and moves to the black camaro, giving her mate a moment alone. Derek walks over, crouches down and clasps his hands together gently, staring at the headstone of Lillith Stilinski.
"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused your son. I wish I knew what was wrong so I could fix it, and I know it was me who did something wrong. I just hope one day you can forgive me. And I hope one day he'll tell me what I did wrong," Derek spoke quietly as he ran a soft hand over the grave. Then he got up and left.
It rained later that night. Rather it poured, like the Heavens were weeping for all the lost souls and problems of the world. A room was in perfect condition, not a thing out of place. Except for a neat sheet of paper lying on the clean desk.
Stiles sat against his bed, slumped over slightly as he thought about what he was going to do. He didn't want to leave his dad behind, and he knew what he was doing wasn't a way to solve things, but he just couldn't take this anymore. Any of it.
He was alone. Utterly alone. His father was almost always working, Scott didn't come around every couple of weeks to check on him anymore, and really, no one at school even liked him. His teachers had even told him they didn't like him, though he made good grades. Everywhere he went now he almost always noticed one of his old friends. And he noticed now that his dad, although he would always love his mom and never forget her, had found someone new. Someone who would take care of him.
Which made what he was about to do so much better. Easier. Though at the same time, so painful. He really would miss his dad and would regret not getting to meet the person that was making him so happy. Would regret not being able to tell Derek everything in person.
Stiles had written two letters. One for his dad and friends, one for Derek that he had sent out by mail today. And he made sure the letter didn't make the alpha feel like this was his fault. All the fault was Stiles'. And he was the one going through with this, so it would never be Derek's fault. He didn't even blame the werewolf. Only himself.
He picked up the razor he got from a box cutter. Slowly, so he could feel what he was doing to himself, making sure his body knew that the pain it was feeling was deserved, he cut downwards along his vein. Stiles shut his eyes tightly, mouth open in a pained gasp as he shakily slit the other wrist in the same fashion.
He dropped the bloody razor, letting his arms fall to the towels below him. He wouldn't bleed out on the carpet, wouldn't leave his dad with a stained memory. Stiles let his head loll backwards as he fell in and out of consciousness, his mind just about to lost focus and let him sleep.
A large smile broke out on his face as his life flashed before his eyes. The good parts mostly, only a few bad memories resurfacing. Many are of his mother, father, and himself, some of him and Scott. Even a few are of Derek and he can't help but cry out a hoarse "I love you" to the empty room.
Stiles can see a light now, can see his mother treading lightly towards him with a hand outstretched, waiting for him to take it. She had a smile on her beautiful face, though it's a sad one. She knew he wasn't supposed to die like this, but she can't change anything now. And even if she's sad that it had to come to this, she was still so happy to finally see her baby again.
So Stiles takes her hand and the world leaves him. He's with her, he's safe. Finally. Finally. . .
The sheriff comes home early that day, with the woman he wants his son to meet. He calls for him and when he gets no answer, walks upstairs to find him. Once he enters his son's room he lets out a cry of anguish, making the woman run upstairs to check on him. She cries out at the sight as well.
Stiles sat there with his back against his bed, head to the side with a happy, tear-streaked face.
The sheriff falls to his knees and lets the woman call 911. The ambulance is quick to get there but is sad to inform the sheriff there isn't anything they can do. The woman holds him as he cries on the couch, letting the people take his son's body away.
News is quick to spread since the sheriff hasn't been to work in a week. He's been given time to grieve for his loss. That woman is always with him, trying to help as much as she can. She makes all the calls, all the funeral arrangements. She grieves just as much as the older man.
When Derek first gets the letter he's shocked and has to reread it at least seven, if not more, times. When he finally understands he rushes to the Stilinski residence. He knocks on the door a few times before anybody can answer it. The woman, who is dressed in all black, lets him inside and has him wait in the living room for the sheriff to get downstairs.
Derek is greeting quietly. The werewolf hands the man the letter and lets him read it over. He isn't shocked when the man punches him and then collapses back into his chair in tears.
They sit there in silence until Scott comes over with the rest of the pack. And they tell the sheriff everything they've noticed about Stiles in the past half year. Derek tells him about finding him once outside of a store, sleeping in his jeep two towns over.
When all is out they just sit in silence. Allison is sitting with her face in Scott's shoulder, crying. She's the only one openly crying and they're all grateful because they don't feel they can cry themselves. It's too much of a shock to let the emotions out right now.
The funeral is small, family and close friends only. People from the high school send cards and flowers but that was all. So now they stood listening to a pastor explain life and death, all the stuff someone of pastor status would say. It doesn't make any of them feel better.
Then the sheriff talks about his son. Talks about how smart he was, how, even though he got into so much trouble, he was the best kid any person could have asked for. He tells a story or two about when he was younger, talks about how his wife is probably with Stiles right now, getting him accustomed to the afterlife.
Scott is allowed to talk about his best friend but ends up loosing his cool and crying halfway though. And he doesn't care that people are watching him because he knows most of them aren't in any better state. The only person he hasn't seen cry is Derek, but the alpha rarely shows emotion anyway.
It's short and sweet. Just like how Stiles' life was. It may have been short, but in the letter he had written his father, had said how amazing that short time was. How he wouldn't change but a few things at the end.
A few memorable objects were placed in the casket with him. A picture of his family, the necklace Scott had gotten him at such a young age for his birthday, even an important letter his mother had written him right before she had passed away. None of these things were surprising, they had all been important to Stiles, but what was a surprise was what Derek had placed inside the casket: a small, wood, hand-carved and painted wolf howling up at the moon. It was painted to look just like Derek's alpha form. Carved to match up to it. The pack all understood, even if Stile's family didn't.
The the casket was lowered into the ground. Forever.
And no one said anything when Derek finally let tears fall. They just cried with him as a light drizzle fell around them. . .
A year later on the anniversary of Stiles' death finds Derek walking slowly through the cemetery, flowers clutched in one hand and his other balled in a fist. He makes his way towards Stiles' grave, placing the flowers down gently once he reaches it. He runs a hand longingly over the cold stone, sighing as he sits on his heels.
The alpha talks quietly to the grave, saying how much they miss the boy, how he misses him. He says he finally understood what had gone wrong, what had messed everything up, and he knows, even though Stiles had said it wasn't his fault, a part of himself was to blame for what happened.
When he's finished talking, explaining everything that has happened the past year, he just sits there. He doesn't know how long he does but since it was starting to get dark he assumes it's been a few hours. Derek says his goodbyes, once again says that he misses him and gets up to leave.
It's dark now, the moon full, so he lets out a mournful howl to the sky. Lets it flow through the wind till the echo goes on for a short mile.
The alpha glances back one last time at the grave and walks away. He stops beside another one, looking at it and then walking away again.
"Laura. . . I expect you to be watching him. He gets into far too much trouble not to be watched."
And he swears that he hears a soft feminine giggle and a deeper, but short, male laugh. And he knows that they're watching over each other.
Well this is a depressing piece. I never thought I'd write something where one of my favorite characters die. I have just prove myself wrong.
This is for a prompt I found over on Tumblr about Stiles committing suicide and then the aftermath. I kind of wrote what leads up to the suicide and a little exert about afterwards. But it's close enough.
Hope this is enjoyed, even if it's sad. It was based off the song, at first, I Dont Wanna Be In Love by Good Charlotte, but then it transferred over to other songs. And I don't think you guys want me telling you all the songs because there are so many.
So again, enjoy. Reviews would be really nice to get.