So sorry for the delay in writing everybody! I have had the absolute worst case of writer's block, and I could not find a way to successfully transition my ideas. So here goes my best attempt at a solution. Please keep continuing to review and comment with your thoughts and any suggestions you may have! It has all been beyond helpful! Here's Chapter 7!
Derek paced back and forth on the landing of the stairwell in his burnt out house. How could Stiles do that to himself? What could possibly make him feel that worthless? He has been a part of every single battle; he has been a part of every single problem; he's been a part of every single solution… Why? Derek continued to pace. Regardless of how hard he would try, the two words carved into the flesh of Stiles' side would not leave his mind. It was as if the gashes had scarred themselves into his mind's eye just as they would into Stiles' skin.
What puzzled (and regrettably angered) Derek the most was how he had failed to notice Stiles' pain. Why hadn't I smelled the blood? You could sense the stress on him… Especially two nights ago… How could you… How?
Derek continued to bash himself mentally for his stupidity and ignorance. That was why he smelled completely of bleach. He was trying to keep it a secret. Derek sighed. I just don't understand… Why does he think so low of himself? Doesn't he realize just how…Derek searched for the right word, and sighed at his own irony. Just how perfect he really is? He is kind, and selfless, and full of intuition. He sees the good in everything and everyone save for himself. He risks his life for everyone, even when his life is the most fragile. It's almost as if he could care less what happens to himself, just as long as everyone else is okay. Derek thought back to the time when Jackson had paralyzed him as the Kanima. Had it not been for Stiles, Derek surely would have drowned. He retreated further in his memory to when Kate (a pang of pain and fury flashed through his body) had shot him with a wolfsbane bullet. Without Stiles' care until Scott could get the bullet, he would have died then too.
Stiles was perfect—perfect and wonderful and beautiful. That was the conclusion Derek came too. There was no other way to describe Stiles. No matter how annoying he can be, he is still absolutely beautiful. If only he could see it. Derek sat at the top of the stairs. If only you could show him, he told himself. He is important. He is perfect. To perfect for the likes of you. Derek agreed with himself at the realization. Stiles deserved someone far better than Derek. After all that Derek had put him through, there was nothing that could put Derek in a positive light to the boy.
Derek pulled Stiles' bloodied bandages for the pocket of his jeans, and cradled them in his open palms. Simply looking at the pieces of soiled cotton brought spasms of pain to his chest. The recognition of the sensation made Derek think of what pain Stiles may be feeling—what he had been feeling, for god knows how long. He curled his fingers around the remnant of his boy's pain. I'll keep these…as a reminder. A reminder to never let Stiles be hurt again.
Derek tucked the cotton pads back into his pocket, and checked his watch.
4:44pm.
He should be here any minute now. Derek's heart quickened at the thought. In all honesty, Derek had no idea what exactly he was going to say to Stiles. He hadn't really planned that far ahead. I'm an idiot. Derek rested his head in his palms. This is going to suck.
The sound of Stiles' jeep came into earshot. Derek knew the boy was still a couple miles out, so he had maybe two more minutes to his thoughts. At this realization, Derek also realized that he had no more thoughts to think about. The only thing on his mind was Stiles. Stiles. With his brown eyes, and fair skin. That ridiculously cute smile. The annoying chatter. His intoxicating scent. Stiles… Stiles… Stiles…
As if on cue, Stiles' jeep pulled to a stop outside the house, and as soon as the boy stepped from the driver's side door, Derek could smell him from where he stood, and it drove both him and his wolf crazy. Derek leapt down from the staircase and exited the house, meeting the nervous boy at the stairs of the porch. Derek checked his watch again.
4:46pm.
"You're late." Derek said, his face as hard as a stone.
Stiles lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry, I got caught up at the store."
"Well, at least I don't have to drag you here by your eyelids." Derek retorted, and the boy stepped back.
"Are you going to tell me why I'm here or are you just going to keep insulting and threatening me?" Stiles' eyes narrowed.
Derek bit his lip. He knew he was being far to abrasive, but he had no idea how to act around Stiles. The wolf inside whimpered. C'mon you idiot. Don't fuck this up.
"I just wanted to…check in with you. Make sure you're alright." Derek murmured, scratching the back of his head nervously.
Stiles snorted. "Oh I'm just peachy, thanks very much. After almost killing my best friend today, and on top of that almost getting mugged by a werewolf who cannot respect security protocol for public schools, I am just fantastic."
"I needed to make sure you'd come." Derek shrugged, looking at the ground.
"Why? It's not like you couldn't force me here if you wanted." Stiles retorted again.
"Stiles, just tell me what's bothering you." Derek growled, growing impatient.
The boy only laughed. "Derek there's nothing fucking wrong with me. I'm—"
"Don't you dare lie to me. Don't you dare say you're fine." Derek almost yelled. "You and I both know that's bullshit." He looked Stiles square in the eye.
"You don't know shit, Derek." Stiles threw back. "Don't pretend to start giving a shit now because Scott went and cried to you."
You don't know anything… Derek wanted to say. "This has nothing to do with Scott! This is about YOU and ONLY you."
"What is there about me? I'm an annoying, weak human." Stiles was getting angry.
Derek closed in on the boy, only to have him back away. Stiles kept backing away until he was pressed flush against the door of his jeep. Derek paused a few steps away.
"Stiles stop lying to me and tell me what's wrong!" Derek stepped closer still.
"Will you knock it off? There is NOTHING wrong! I'm FINE!"
Derek heard the hitch in Stiles' heartbeat again. "You just lied to me."
"Prove it!" Stiles shot back.
"Fine!" Derek reached into his pocket, and withdrew the bandages.
Stiles' eyes bulged and his breathing stopped dead when he saw what Derek held in his hand. "I don't know what those are." He whispered hoarsely.
"The hell you don't." Derek spat. "I know what you've been doing to yourself Stiles. I just want to know why."
"Why would you care? I'm not one of your obediently whipped betas. I'm not important to you at all!" Stiles erupted.
Derek could see the tears forming at the corner of his boy's eyes, and his wolf whimpered at the sight. "That's not true!" Derek nearly shouted.
"Oh yeah? Where were you when Gerard had me? Where were you when Scott punched me? Why would you even show up to my house when it didn't have anything to do with you? Scott called you didn't he?"
Derek hesitated.
"DIDN'T HE?!" Stiles shouted.
"Yes, he called me!" Derek yelled back.
Stiles chuckled, but even so a single tear slid from his control. Derek almost shattered in agony for the boy.
"Stiles, I'm so sorry…" He whispered.
"No you're not." Stiles lowered his head. "I'm nothing to you. I'm nothing to any of you. You hate me."
"That's not true!" Derek growled. "You have no idea how much I care about you."
"Don't lie to me Derek. I may not be a werewolf, but I know you're lying."
"Then you know nothing about how I feel!" Derek was seething in anger. Don't you get it Stiles? I need you! If only he could say such things.
"Don't give me that bullshit Derek. You could care less if I were even alive. Gerard could have fucking killed me, dismembered my corpse and scattered it to the four corners of the earth, and you would give no fucks about it."
"Shut the fuck up! You know I would care! All of us would care!" Why won't you believe me? Derek raced for a solution—a way to make the tormented boy in his presence see the truth.
"Derek, just stop. I'm broken as it is, and I don't need you to tear me apart anymore. Fine. You've found my secret. Don't pretend like you care though. Just because I'm more distant than before doesn't mean that you—"
Derek stopped listening—he had made up his mind. Fuck it. Derek cut Stiles' sentence short by closing the distance between them, and crushing his lips against Stiles', stopping the painful words erupting from Stiles' heart.
