ENCAUSTIC

When the sun came up the next morning the only sound Stiles could hear was the slow breathing of a warm body by his side. He felt safe. He had missed that feeling.

He tried to turn around, yet he noticed that his legs were tangled with Derek's. Not wanting to wake up the werewolf with his clumsy movements, he decided to stay in that same position and enjoy the moment as much as he could.

Stiles felt, in a way, that he was betraying Derek's trust, for he knew the only reason Derek was there with him, in his bed, was because Derek felt pity for the boy who had constant nightmares. Derek only liked him as a friend, and even that was an overstatement. Even though it wasn't exactly what he wanted, what Stiles had imagined, it still was better than having nobody there for him. And Derek was his friend, at least Stiles thought so. And friends helped each other. So, without giving it any more thought, Stiles closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, counting Derek's breaths, being grateful for the sleep he was been gifted by Derek.

Later in the morning, the sound of his father's car engine starting up interrupted his sleep. Not even the rays of sunlight that invaded his room could have been able to warm him up as much as Derek's body lying next to him. He noticed, turning his head to the window, that Derek's eyes were open. He smiled, for he had never seen Derek so… calm.

"Good morning, Sourwolf."

Derek didn't seem to take notice on Stiles' remark; he just laid there, his hands making a pillow for his head, staring at the ceiling of Stiles' room. "Are you okay, Derek?" There was something unsettling about Derek, now that Stiles thought about it, something was bothering him. "Derek, you look troubled. What are you thinking about?" He sat up and slowly glided away from Derek, thinking that maybe his presence had been what had bothered Derek.

Derek blinked and then looked at Stiles with the same stare that he used to glare at the ceiling. "I have to leave now. It's a full moon tonight and Cora needs me." He stood up and laced his muddy shoes. Stiles couldn't take his eyes off of Derek, his countenance reflecting misunderstanding and befuddlement.

"But, Derek, what's wrong? Did I do something? I'm sorry, I didn't…."

Derek cut him off by sliding the window open completely. With, his left foot out of the window, he shot a quick look at Stiles, this time, his eyes seemed to be melting, getting watery, as if he was preventing his heart from pouring out his glare. Then, he took off.

Stiles jumped from his bed and ran towards his window, almost tripping over Derek's box. He searched the street with his eyes, trying to find where Derek had ran off to, but he was already gone.

How the hell did this just fuck up! Damn it, Stiles! He ran his hands through his hair and kicked his wall furiously, still barefoot, ignoring the pain. How had that stunning morning turned into a disaster in less than an hour? Only he could fuck something up without trying.

+++….+++….+++

He just ran, his mind wondering off and losing all interest in his surroundings. He ran away because that was what he was an expert on. Running away from all he feared, from all he loved. It was a curse, his daily torment, his daily anxiety, for everyone Derek had ever cared about always ended up hurting.

Ever since he could remember all of the people that had warmed up his heart at some moment in his life, everyone who had whispered soft words to his ears, everyone who had motivated Derek and guided him through life, his family, his friends, his lovers, all of them, Laura, his mom, his father, his cousins, Kate, Paige, Jennifer… either they had betrayed him or died as a result of his own stupid faulty decisions.

But it was time to change things. It was time to turn things around. From now on, he would learn to not care for anyone else but his sister and himself, he would forget about everything else. That's what he had decided once he had made the decision to leave Beacon Hills. It was a new beginning in more ways than one.

For some reason, he had given Jennifer a chance, for she had seemed nice and innocent and sincere and harmless… someone Derek had needed so bad. And it had turned out, like most things in Derek's life, to be a cruel way to use him to destroy. And he had been so blind.

Yeah, sure, Stiles wouldn't ever plan anything evil. Seriously, though, the boy fainted at the sight of needles. He was the most honest person Derek had ever known, and God, did the boy have guts. Stiles was clumsy and weak and extremely annoying, but he was also caring, loyal, noble, smart, astute and sometimes, even if it's hard for Derek to admit, funny. He has a lion's heart and a vibrant inevitable presence. That's why Derek couldn't let himself be pushed deeper into Stiles' life. Putting him in danger of any kind, risking his life even more than he already has... if anything happened to Stiles, the innocent human trapped in a horror movie, and it turned out to be Derek's fault… it would be impossible for Derek to live with that guilt. He couldn't bring himself to care anymore than he already did, he couldn't handle caring so much for anyone as much as he could care for Stiles.

When he had walked into Stiles' room, almost a month ago, to write the note, he had thought that it was probably the best for both of them to finally say the lastgoodbye. As he wrote the letter, his heart had accelerated like never before. At that time, he wasn't even sure about his feelings for Stiles, he just knew that whatever he felt inside him was the strangest thing… a feeling he had never experienced before for anyone else.

Then, he left. It wasn't until days later he had received the first text.

As Derek kept on running he replayed the scene in his head: He had been sitting in his hotel room reading a book, red eyes casting a helping glow, as Cora slept in the other bed. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and for a second, he panicked. The only one that could have contacted him at that time would be Peter, and any news from Peter meant bad news. Even more surprise ran through his face as he read who the text was from. The first questions that ran through his mind was, "why the hell would Stiles text me at 4 in the morning?" And then, "Stiles! It's Stiles."

He debated whether or not to answer, for he had promised himself to forget about those few he cared about left in Beacon Hills. But the excitement won over his reasoning and he and so he texted back.

That's how it all began, and that's how it went on for weeks. He tried to ignore the messages received daily; he thought about ceasing their talks every morning, Derek told himself that he had to stop if he wanted to save Stiles from any oncoming harm, but he couldn't bring his hands to stop typing Stiles back whenever he made a snarky comment or questioned Derek about his trip. It was an urge, it felt like a need.

Cora had noticed, but had decided to not comment on it. She knew who Derek was texting, for there was nobody else in the world who would even attempt to contact him. She also noticed how her brother's face lit up whenever his phone vibrated… she hadn't seen Derek's face do that since before the fire, and even that was a rare sighting back then. So she held back her snarky comments and let Derek be. Derek knew that she knew, but he didn't care.

Now, as he ran through the streets of Beacon Hills in plain Saturday morning, he still couldn't resist his thoughts about Stiles and their last night together, how Stiles fit perfectly by his side, how Stiles made cute noises as he unconsciously wiggled closer onto Derek's body. Derek ignored the estranged glares that people shot at him as he kept on running, way too fast for a usual human. He just wanted to get as far away as possible from Stiles, from his greatest accomplishment, the only tether to this town, and also, his biggest concern.

He arrived at the loft minutes later and immediately threw himself on his bed. He knew he would look like an angry twelve year old, but he covered his face with the pillow and tried to grump away from reality. Gradually, he calmed down and concentrated on his surroundings, applying all of his attention to his wolf senses instead of the preoccupied ache in his heart. Derek could hear Cora still asleep on the second floor, her heartbeat was calm. His tongue was dry from all the running; he could taste dirt and sweat. The only thing he could see was darkness, for his eyes were still stuffed in the pillow. He could also feel the breeze enter through the open window, and that's when he smelt it. Lingering in the air, persistent on his pillow, engulfing his lungs, there was Stiles.

Derek had forgotten that just a night ago, Stiles had decided to invade his loft and rest on Derek's bed. It tensed Derek straight in the chest. He had run away from Stiles just to have him present even at his own house. However, he didn't run away from Stiles this time, even though he knew that the more comfortable he felt around the boy's smell, the harder it would be to let go from it later on. No, Derek decided to stay in his bed, clinging to the pillow Stiles had apparently claimed as his. And so, Derek fell asleep with the scent of Stiles conquering his room. Derek wasn't actually tired, and the wolf inside him urged Derek to move and prepare for the full moon that was forthcoming, but lying there in his bed and relaxing into Stiles' scent felt like it was the only thing he could be comfortable to do at the moment. And so he did.

+++…+++…+++

Stiles anxiety increased as the seconds ticked by. He couldn't stop shifting from corner to corner in his bedroom, every couple of seconds he would glance over at the window expecting Derek to appear with that stunning stubble of his, ready to take Stiles in his arms and... "I'm so damn stupid! Fuck!" What had Stiles done wrong? Derek just leapt into the streets without saying anything! Did he snore too much at night? Scott always complains about that… "Did I fart?" he thought, "God damn it, Stiles, you driveling idiot! How could you fuck this up!"

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, wondering if sending Derek a message would be the right thing to do. His brain told him to stop, that it was only going to make things worse, but his anxiety, his shame, and his uncontrollable impulse to fix things forced him into typing.

Look, Derek, I have no idea what just happened, but could you at least talk to me? You just glared at me and jumped off my window without saying anything! I'm really sorry if I did anything yesterday to upset you, or this morning, or whenever,,, whatever it is, Derek, I'm really sorry. Please forgive me. Please talk to me.

Stiles looked at the rushed text he had typed, his thumb was trembling, unsure whether or not what he was doing would just worsen the situation. Just as he was about to click send, the doorbell rang. He closed his eyes and saved the text for later.

Almost tripping over, he rushed down the stairs and opened the door. Lydia stood before him, all dressed up and with an incredibly wide smile that reflected a signal of 'we're on a mission', which would have scared Stiles before the entire ordeal with the werewolves. Her strawberry blond hair looked incredibly radiant with the sun light behind her beaming and showing off her silhouette. She eyed him from head to toe and then her excited countenance changed into one of urging curiosity. "Stiles, what's wrong? You look… like you just saw a ghost." She smirked.

Ever since the whole deal with the Alpha pack and the sacrifices had ended, she had begun to feel confident about her skill. She wasn't worried about her strange unconscious behavior anymore caused by the "banshee nature", as she called it. Instead, with the help of the pack, she had discovered even more things about herself. Her confidence had returned, and with that, also came snarky comments about ghosts, spirits, premonitions, and clairvoyance.

"Seriously, though, are you okay?" She walked inside the house and closed the door herself. She inspected Stiles again. He was barefoot, wearing wrinkled jeans and an equally wrinkled shirt. His hair was disheveled; the pillow had marked the left side of his scalp. And his eyes, they seemed like they were about to explode, they were swollen and wet. "Stiles," she inched closer to him and took his shaking hands in hers, "what happened?"

+++…+++…+++

They sat in the living room next to each other as Stiles emptied his heart to Lydia. He told him about the nightmares that had invaded his nights and told her about the emptiness that engulfed his chest. Stiles also told her about Derek and him texting for the last month, though she didn't look surprised by that information, apparently the whole pack had noticed. They had also noticed how his face beamed to light whenever his cellphone vibrated with an incoming message of Derek's. "The whole pack knows, Stiles, but since you haven't told us anything about that yet we've silently agreed to wait and shut our mouths about the matter."

To that, Stiles didn't know what to say. So he just waited for Lydia to continue. "Is that what this is all about? Did he do something Stiles? What did he say? I'm going to slay that idiot or make some wolfsbane tee and shove it down his throat! Did he…"

"He's here."

Lydia jumped from the couch. "What? He's in the house? Is he holding you hostage? That son of a …"

To her reaction, Stiles had to let out a snort of amusement. Lydia seemed too much like the mom of the pack, being so protective; it fit the young woman incredibly well as a new aspect of her personality. "I meant he's in town. He came back for the weekend, so did Cora."

Her eyes were still wide with curiosity, but she calmed herself down and took a seat next to Stiles once again. "When did they arrive?"

"Yesterday morning." He sighed, remembering how the siblings had found him sleeping in their loft.

"Is that why you didn't go to school yesterday?" She raised an eyebrow, teasing Stiles.

He sighed again. "Kind of, yeah. Yes."

They looked at each other, waiting for the other to say anything. It was Lydia who took the lead.

"Why hasn't he told us they were back? Why haven't you? It feels weird."

Stiles kept on rubbing his own knuckles and shaking his legs. He explained how they had only come back because of some "things" that Cora was going through and that they needed a short break from the travelling and that the full moon was tonight; they felt more in control if they were in known territory. Also, he told Lydia that they didn't want to disturb the pack right now, since things were so calm.

"Those Hales, I will never understand them. They do realize that they are pack, don't they?"

Stiles really didn't know the answer for that, they had never adventured into that special topic, since Scott was the alpha now, Stiles nor Derek had any say on the matter. "I don't think they know. What does Scott say? I haven't asked him myself."

Lydia smiled. "Of course they are pack, Stiles. We all are."

Stiles smiled genuinely for the first time since Derek had jumped off his window. Hearing Lydia say those words warmed up his heart for some reason.

"Stiles," she interrupted his sudden reverie, "you still haven't told me why you were almost crying when I came here, and from what you've told me right now about the shadows slowly fading after texting Derek, I'm guessing the nightmares are not the reason."

He hesitated about telling her, but he really was going to explode soon into a sea of tears if he didn't get it out, and who better to tell than the death-perceiver, fugue-state-experienced, vision-sensitive banshee best friend.

He poured his heart out right there and then, not caring anymore about finally admitting his feelings for the ridiculously attractive grumpy werewolf who enjoyed causing him physical pain. Stiles told Lydia about all the times they had been in trouble together, saving each other's guts. He told her about Derek's arm being infected with a wolf's bane bullet and how he had helped save the wolf. The time Derek had invaded Stiles' room to look for help also came to mind, and he voiced it with pride. He told Lydia about the time they discovered Peter was the mad alpha and how they were there for each other at the hospital. Stiles also narrated with extreme detail the two hours that they had been stuck in the pool thanks to the maniac lizard ex-boyfriend of hers and he also shamelessly voiced all of his incredibly inappropriate thoughts at that instant. He talked about them both being paralyzed next to each other as the world around them crumbled at the Sheriff's station. He also told her about the night at the hospital and how he had extremely fucked by screaming at Derek's face… he ended up by telling Lydia that Derek had forgiven him after the mess had ended.

Lydia eyed him suspiciously as Stiles fought to gain back his breath. How the hell does anyone talk so much without pausing to breathe? She chuckled. "Dear God! Stiles, you got it bad!"

Stiles looked up to see her beaming. "What? No. I'm trying to ignore it all, alright, it's weird… it's different. It's not like you think…."

"Stiles!" she interrupted, "You just basically told me about all the times you and Derek spent time together, and with extremely creepy detail I must add, I'm not judging you at all, but seriously. You've fallen for Derek since the beginning."

"No, I didn't know what it was before. I think I hated him at the beginning, he was so angry all the time and so not fun. He hit me and punched me and shoved my face in my jeep's steering wheel and pushed me into walls and threatened to rip my throat with his teeth…. But out of nowhere things just changed, it's weird to explain…."

"Don't try and explain it Stiles, I understand. Sometimes it just happens." She smiled and he smiled. She then nudged him and he shrugged, blushing and grinning like a little girl.

He looked over directly at her eyes, "Well, since you had ignored me for years, I guess I needed to switch targets."

She sneered and raised her eyebrows. "Honey, please, I'm everyone's target." They both laughed. Then they embraced as if it was the most habitual thing to do. "But I give you permission to chase after Derek… God that sounds so weird."

"Just a little bit." They let go and Stiles looked at the ground, replaying the things that had happened just before Lydia had arrived to his house. "But I don't know what happened. I don't think I'll see him any time soon. He had this weird look when he left; I think he's angry at me, I fucked up."

"Stiles, we're talking about Derek, he always has weird looks. And we all know he's not a person to use words." She took out her phone and began to dial a number.

"Lydia, wait, what are you doing? No! Don't call him! Give me the phone!" He tried to yank it away from her, but she pushed him back and he almost fell off the couch. "I'm not calling Derek, doofus." She stood up and locked herself in the bathroom. Stiles regained his balance but it was too late, he could hear Lydia talk to Cora from the other side of the door.

+++…+++…+++

"Yeah, we'll be waiting for you." Derek had woken up about half an hour. Cora had as well, and now she was on the phone talking to whoever. Derek was too entranced in his own ruffled thoughts to pay the slightest attention to the dim voice of a girl on the other line.

"Sure, see you soon."

Cora hung up the phone and walked down the stairs with the usual Hale strut. She was dressed and her face showed less stress than the day before. Apparently the sleeping-for-an-entire day without the monotonous bumps on the road had helped her calm her hormonal wreck down a nudge. Derek was staring out the window in the same creepy manner uncle Peter did, with a fixating stare, crossed arms, and a dramatic pose with the neck. "Who were you talking to?"

Cora walked all the way to the kitchen and snatched four granola bars before answering her brother. "Lydia Martin." Derek didn't take his glare away from the view of the town. "She wants to come talk to us about who knows what." She opened two of the wrappers and stuffed half of each bar into her mouth. Still with her mouth full, and munching, she continued, "She's coming over at 2 for lunch." The lady wolf took the entire box of bars and placed it under her arms as she walked back upstairs, not caring to comment on Derek's absence last night, for she had really needed the alone time. "You should go buy more of these, our visitor yesterday decided to eat all the strawberry ones, he even left the wrappers on the floor. That little bastard."

Derek flinched at the mention of Stiles' presence in the loft, he hoped Cora hadn't noticed. He had seen the wrappers spread over the floor but he had decided to leave them there… for no reason at all. "You should clean that up, it will attract pests."

Trying to ignore the last comment, he continued staring out the window, watching as the cars drove by and the clouds formed monsters in the sky. When he was little, all he could see was animals from the forest and random human faces in shapes of puffy clouds, also, the occasional tree and school bus. But now that he had grown up, after all that had happened to him, whenever he glanced up at the sky, the only shapes he was able to form were those of deformed figures and contortioned behemoths glaring back at him.

The woods were visible from where he stood, that had been one of the main reasons Derek had chosen the apartment at the very top of the building. Also because it wasn't that far from his old burned down house. Every now and then, the waft would be accompanied by the smell of remaining dusty childhood memories. "And Derek," said Cora from the upstairs bedroom, knowing that Derek would be able to hear her words clearly, "why the hell are you holding on to a pillow?"

+++…+++…+++

Stiles had decided to not take a shower, trusting his "natural scent", wanting to please Derek's nose after the comment from the day before about recognizing familiar smells. He also wore his red hoodie, remembering Derek's favorite color from one of their first conversations.

Lydia and Stiles had left his place and picked up some takeaway food. They ordered a meal for six. Since they were experienced with werewolves; they knew they ate double the amount humans did, if not more, especially during a full moon.

What they were doing didn't really hit Stiles until they were walking towards the Jeep after picking up the food. Noticing Stiles' distracted look, Lydia insisted on driving. "It's my car, Lydia."

"Yeah well, you are unfocused; I don't feel like crashing again after the deer, Stiles. You just concentrate on what you'll tell Derek, alright, I'm doing this for you guys."

Stiles obeyed, mostly because Lydia's stare was scary. What the hell was he going to say? Derek, I have feelings for you. I've had them for a long time. I'm sorry about whatever I did last night. I'm sorry if I betrayed your trust and I'm sorry for telling you this right now but I had to tell you so you don't freak out later… please don't freak out, alright. I'm sorry. Yeah, he was not going to say that.

They parked on the street and carried the food all the way over to the top floor of the building.

"Stiles, calm down. It's going to be alright." Lydia smiled encouragingly and knocked on the door.

+++…+++…+++

He could recognize that scent anywhere, even if the boy was buried feet underground. Derek had to leave, he had to hide somehow. He couldn't see him yet, not after his ridiculous unaccounted for exit from hours before. "Cora! You didn't say Stiles was coming too." His sister ignored him and rolled her eyes as she walked over to the door. Derek noticed that he was still clinging to the pillow, so he shoved it under the other pillows of his bed, which was still unmade from two nights ago. Damn it, Cora.

He could now hear footsteps just outside the loft's door. His chest had begun to beat again, trembling with that strange feeling he had long gone forgotten existed. Did he love or hate that feeling? Damn it Derek, HIDE! Jump out the window, grow wings, do something. But it was too late; Cora opened the door to the loft and in came Lydia, followed by none other but Stiles himself and his stupid red hoodie, the one Derek loved so mu… noticed too often.

They walked in and Cora sniffed the air like she did whenever people came close to her. She could smell strawberries as Lydia passed by her and swayed her hair around, a smell she was quite fond of, also, food, lots of it coming from the plastic bags she was carrying. Following her came Stiles, also holding bags, and he smelled of… "Oh my god, Stiles, didn't you shower today?"

Stiles opened his mouth, confused, almost loosing grip on the bags of food he was carrying. He breathed heavily, "I… well… I thought you guys preferred when people smelled like... themselves."

Cora smiled and snorted, teasing Stiles charming intentions. "Well, sure, I guess, but showering doesn't take away your natural scent, it just takes care of other odors."

Stiles blushed, not daring to look over at Derek or Cora, he even closed his legs and bowed his head down like a puppy, a reaction to embarrassment he had acquired after spending too much time with Scott. Both siblings noticed how Stiles responded with his body language and Derek couldn't help but smile and warm up even more inside. Stile's heart was beating hard and he was starting to sweat. Surely he hadn't taken a shower because of Derek's complaints the day before about the boy covering himself with lotion. "I can go if you want to, it's just…."

"It's okay Stiles, I'm just messing with you." Cora nudged him over to the kitchen and the both followed Lydia as she placed down their meal. Derek was still standing in the middle of the living room like a stone, following Stiles' footsteps with a creepy gaze.

"We brought Mexican and Chinese… also curly fries, Stiles insisted." Lydia announced mockingly.

"Thanks, I will take the Chinese." Cora helped Lydia unpack the food into the island of the kitchen and Stiles stood silently in the middle of the room, dissimulating sniffing his clothing, still feeling stupid and cursing himself for not taking a shower before coming over to visit his crush and his sister.

Cora looked up to find her brother still planted on his heels, looking incredibly taken by surprise and disturbing. "Derek, would you set up the table and stop staring, you're so creepy sometimes." Lydia chuckled. "Derek, hello. YO!"

"Yeah, sorry, what?" He shook his head, coming out of his day-dreaming.

"God, you're so rude. Set up the table."

And Derek did, but not before walking right by the boy and brushing his arm against Stiles' hand by accident. "Hello, Stiles."

The boy looked up for the first time since he walked into the loft and smiled nervously, not sure of what to say at all. His cheeks and nose were still slightly pink from the blood rushing through his entire body. "Hi, Derek." And they just looked at each other's eyes. Stiles still was still blushed and Derek was unsure of how to say that he was sorry for leaving the way he did in the morning. It wasn't until Cora interrupted the boys and reminded Derek about setting up the table that the aura lost its edge.