a/n: i was meant to put this up earlier but i turned 21 and cut my hair and my classes started a week earlier than i thought they would and i forgot to send the chapter to my beta? so yeah. BUT HERE IT IS!
the dusty springfield song mentioned is i just don't know what to do with myself. but i think a lot more people know it as that white stripes song where kate moss dances only in her underwear.
warnings for stiles having a panic attack and discussion of past emotional abuse. details at the end notes!
Stiles doesn't even bother looking back at Scott before he's running after Derek, the sounds of their footsteps echoing through the hallway and down the stairs, Derek's sharp voice on the phone telling someone to come pick me up and rattling Danny's address before hanging up.
"Derek!" Stiles calls out. "Derek!"
Stiles notices by the twitch of Derek's shoulders as Stiles yells out his name, he heard him.
But he doesn't stop.
Derek keeps on walking down the stairs and past the building hallway, Stiles on his heels, pushing the entry door open and stepping outside the building and into the street.
That is until Stiles decides that fuck it and starts jogging to catch up with him, finally reaching him and extending a hand to lay on his shoulder, "Fucking dammit, Derek, will you just wait a-"
As soon as Stiles' fingers curl around the thin fabric of Derek's shirt to stop him, Derek flinches away from him like he's been hit.
And stops completely.
And Stiles' stomach rolls when he gets a glance at Derek's profile.
At how fucking wrecked he looks.
"Derek," Stiles says his name again, this time softer.
Derek doesn't acknowledge him, doesn't say anything, but Stiles can see Derek's shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath he takes, his fists clenching and unclenching by his side.
"What-," Stiles starts, swallowing hard as he braces himself and takes a couple of steps forward so he can face Derek. "What happened?"
His voice breaks at the question, because Derek looks so much worse than he thought and Stiles has no idea what made him look this way.
He looks-
He looks miserable and hurt and like he's in pain and betrayed and so fucking lost that all Stiles wants to do is crawl under Derek's skin and tell him everything's going to be okay and I'll fix this.
He wants to take all of the broken pieces that make the man standing in front of him and hold them in his hands and help Derek mend himself up, help him heal, help him be whole again.
"Derek," Stiles tries one more time, voice nothing but a whisper but still firm. "What was it? Was is something Scott said? I mean, I know it must have been but I need you to tell me because if it's a trigger for you then I have to tell him to not saying it anym-"
"Argent," Derek rasps out. "That was her last name. My ex-girlfriend's."
Stiles blinks at him, mouthing opening and eyes widen in horror as he realizes how fucking bad this is.
Because Derek's ex-girlfriend, the one who hurt him and used him and his family, is an Argent.
Like Allison.
Who is one of Stiles' closest friends.
And someone he loves.
Someone that could be related to the person who hurt Derek.
And it's not like Stiles can ask his friends not to say anything about it, because it's who Allison is.
Stiles doesn't know what the fuck to do with this information.
Mostly because Allison doesn't talk about her family outside of her dad, so Stiles has no idea if Derek's ex has any connections to her.
And also because Derek never told him the whole story, so even though Stiles knows this is bad he doesn't know just how bad.
He tries to tell Derek that much.
Not that he's that successful at getting the words out.
"I- I don't-"
Or that Derek even bothers hearing him.
If Stiles was in his place, he also doesn't think he would.
"Kate Argent," Derek interrupts him, the words coming out of his mouth like he's been punched. "She was the one who- And your friend- I can't do this, Stiles. I can't do this."
Stiles can see the tiny tremors running down Derek's body, and reaches out a hand to lay it on his boyfriend's shoulder saying, "Okay. Okay, you don't have to do anything. I'll talk to them tomorrow and explain what happened, but right now? Just let me take you home," only to have Derek flinch away from him again.
"No," Derek shakes his head, waving a hand between them. "No. I can't do this. I can't be around them, and she's one of your best friends."
Stiles just blinks at him, mind buzzing with so much information that it takes him a while to process Derek's words.
"This?" Stiles asks, and it's like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs as he realizes what Derek means. "This? Us? You- I- What the fuck, Derek?"
He sounds desperate.
He knows.
But it's like his brain can't really grasp anything other than the sharp pain in his chest at Derek's words and the clousterfuck this night is turning out to be.
"I can't risk seeing her again," Derek croaks out, expression twisting in anguish. "I can't risk it. I'm sorry."
"Derek," Stiles pleads. "Derek, I had no idea. I- I don't- Allison never mentioned-"
"I can't be around them," Derek says over him, even though Stiles is not really managing to put words together and talk. "Kate- If there's a chance- I can't do this, Stiles."
Derek tries to walk past him, Stiles suddenly panicking and grabbing him by the shoulders, clutching at his shirt and trying desperately to keep him here, so he can make him understand.
"I didn't know, Derek," Stiles tells him, voice rushed and pained. "Allison never mentioned her. I had no idea, Derek. I promise. I didn't know. You never even told me her name. I didn't know."
Stiles has his eyes glued to Derek's, so he doesn't miss the way Derek's entire face crumples as he lowers his gaze.
And starts shaking.
And it's like the ground drops out from under him when Derek starts talking.
Because all he says is, "I'm sorry," over and over and over again.
Like he's the one who did something wrong here.
Because Stiles told him Derek never mentioned her name.
Stiles is horrified at himself.
And sick to his stomach.
And he's angry, he's so fucking angry he thinks he could kill someone.
But all he does is wrap his arms around Derek and hold him close, muttering it's not your fault and it's okay and you didn't do anything wrong as he rubs circles across Derek's back and threads his fingers through Derek's hair and tries not to drown in his guilt.
He doesn't notice the black Camaro or the bike parking a couple of yards away, barely hears the door open and snap shut and the sounds of sneakers and boots as two people walk up to them.
He only focuses when Laura stops behind Derek, Cora right behind her, both with arms crossed over their chests as if holding themselves together. They just stand there for a couple of minutes, Stiles clinging harder to Derek as they watch them with equal broken looks on their faces.
"Stiles," Cora steps forward, face a mixture of emotions that Stiles doesn't bother making sense right now.
Because he's too busy holding on to Derek like he's the only thing keeping him together.
And because it feels like someone just tore his chest open and ripped out his heart when Derek tries to step back and away from him, voice hoarse and thick as he continues to apologize.
And also say, "I can't do this."
Stiles feels like he might be sick.
And that also only makes him cling tighter, Derek's shirt stretching when he keeps stepping backwards and trying to get to Cora, who snakes her arms around Derek's waist.
As if she knows that as soon as Stiles lets go, Derek will need someone else to prop him up.
And Stiles doesn't want there to be someone else.
He wants to be that person for Derek, that helps him when things are shit and comforts him and is there for him.
The stitches start popping, the sound of fabric ripping startling Stiles so bad he almost jumps in the air.
He still doesn't let go.
Not until Laura walks up to them, her cold fingers wrapping around Stiles wrists and tugging them off.
Stiles lets go.
And starts his own chorus of sentences, saying I didn't know and Allison never said anything and please don't do this.
He doesn't mention not knowing who she was because Derek never told him.
It still doesn't ease his guilt.
Stiles watches as Cora leads Derek back to the car without a look back, depositing him on the passenger's seat and closing the door before giving a look at both of them still standing there on the street and nodding.
She then gets in the car and drives off.
Stiles starts shaking, not that he notices.
Actually, for all he knows, he might have been shaking before right now.
It might have started the moment Derek walked out the door.
Laura drops her hold in his wrists, and it takes Stiles longer than he's comfortable with to notice she didn't leave with them, that she's still standing there, arms now crossed over her chest again as she looks at him.
He doesn't say anything, but she must see something on his face because her first words to him are, "Cora will take him home. He'll be taken care of."
Stiles nods.
Or at least he thinks he does.
"You need to tell me what happened," Laura says, voice steady and expression blank.
Stiles clenches and unclenches his fists.
And repeats himself, "I never knew her name. Derek never said anything and Allison never told us she had any family. I had no idea, you have to believe me, Laura. I didn't know."
His breathing starts becoming erratic, his fingers feeling numb, the rush of blood in his ears muffling the sounds Laura's lips are making.
He feels hands on his own shoulders now, trying to make him sit down; someone bending his legs and a hand cupping the back of his neck and pushing his head between his knees.
He knows someone is talking to him, probably telling him to count in pairs, inhale and exhale, try to focus on their voice, breathe.
His face is streaked with tears, head spinning, lungs burning, but he can hear Laura talking to someone now, her voice sharp and urgent, even though he can't really understand what she's saying just yet.
He tries to focus on the hand she still has in the back of his neck, how her cold fingers are now warm and her palm clammy.
He tries not to think about what just happened.
Stiles doesn't know how long they stay there, like that.
It might have been minutes or it might have been years or it might have been forever.
He can't really tell.
All he can tell is that the hand on his neck is too delicate and too small to belong to Derek.
He can see the lights, though.
He can hear the sirens and can see the shape of a police cruiser parking just behind Laura's bike.
He can also see his dad coming out of it, face a lot worried and a little bit angry as he walks up to where him and Laura are-
Sitting?
Stiles swallows and blinks up at his dad when he stops right in front of them, eyes following his dad's when he kneels on the ground and takes a look at him.
The Sheriff turns to Laura.
Stiles thinks he asks her something but he doesn't really bother listening.
Until the words start filtering through his brain and he starts hearing glimpses like Derek and triggered and panic attack and breaking up.
"Can you take me home?" Stiles interrupts them, voice rough and wobbly and detached.
Laura and his dad glance back at him, faces wearing something that looks too much like pity for Stiles' taste.
"Please?" Stiles whispers when they don't say anything.
The Sheriff's expression hardens as he looks from Stiles to Laura and back again before nodding, getting his hands under Stiles' arms and helping him up.
Stiles thinks he and Laura say something again, but he's too busy focusing on trying to get one foot in front of the other and not give in to the urge to curl up in the floor and die to pay attention to it.
And when his dad gets him in the cruiser and drives him to his house instead of Stiles' apartment, setting him up in his old childhood bedroom, Stiles doesn't really care to find out.
Because as he curls up on his side in bed and presses his face hard against his pillow, all that matters is that Derek's not right there with him.
"Talk," the Sheriff says, placing a glass full of whisky on top of the kitchen table in front of Stiles as he pushes him down into a chair.
"Dad-"
"It's been three days," his dad says, voice hard and face serious. "I didn't push you when we got home after Ms. Hale called the station after me saying my son was having one of the worst panic attacks she's ever seen, because I didn't think you were in a state where talking about what happened would be a good idea and not send you into another episode. But it's been three days, and all I know about what happened is that it has something to do with Derek Hale, and I'm half convinced to hunt him down and shoot him."
"He didn't do anything wrong," Stiles shakes his head, his voice rough and tired, stomach churning as his mind goes back to the way Derek looked utterly destroyed as Stiles tried to make him understand that he had no idea who Kate was.
Stiles feels that if anyone did something wrong, it was him.
"He didn't do anything wrong," Stiles says again, lower this time, eyes glued to his glass and not his dad's face because he's pretty sure it doesn't take anyone super cop skills to see how fucking guilty and miserable he feels right now.
"Then you better start explaining," The Sheriff says, crossing his arms over his chest. "And by that I mean telling me everything."
Stiles takes a deep breath, grabbing the glass and taking a sip.
He doesn't really know if it helps or just makes him even more sick to his stomach.
And Stiles doesn't know where to start, not really.
Even after three days, everything is still too fresh and painful and jumbled up in his head.
Still too hazy, like it didn't happen to him, but to someone else.
"Stiles," his dad's voice is sharp and impatient, and when Stiles finally looks up at him is to see his eyes filled with concern.
Stiles hates himself a little bit for putting that look on his dad's face, for making him worry.
He still opens his mouth to say something, even though he doesn't know what.
Apparently his brain takes over for him, because just as his dad sighs and repeats his name like he's hurting by seeing Stiles like this, he blurts out, "The woman Derek dated who used to verbally abused him and used him so she could get to his mom and snatch a better job position in the firm they worked at is related to Allison."
Silence.
Except for Stiles' mouth snapping shut with a click and the Sheriff's sharp intake of breath at his son's words.
Stiles bites down at his bottom lip, because now on top of the guilt he's feeling about yesterday, he can also add 'Telling Derek's Life Story to My Dad, the Sheriff, Without Permission' to the list.
The Sheriff just blinks at him.
And then grabs a glass for himself and the bottle of whisky sitting on top of the table and sits down in front of Stiles.
"Explain it to me," his dad says as he fills his glass. "Again. Right from the beginning."
And Stiles does.
He tells his dad everything.
About what he knows and what he suspects given how Derek sometimes acts around him, Derek's reaction when finding out Allison's last name is Argent and what came after - his dad resting a comforting hand on his shoulder when it all gets to be a little too much and Stiles has to stop and calm himself down-, and what Mrs. Hale and Isaac told him.
He tries to push past the guilt of talking about this without Derek's consent again.
Mostly, he succeeds.
But maybe that's just because of how fucking scared he is when faced with the feeling of how much he cares about Derek.
So much so that he had one of the worst panic attacks of his fucking life just because Derek was walking away from him.
Stiles wonders if that is a healthy response to what happened.
The prospect of a person not being in his life anymore sending him into such a frenzy he can't possibly get enough air in his lungs.
He doesn't think so.
But he stares at his dad and and thinks about the boxes with some of his mom's things still in the attic and guesses this is how Stilinskis do things.
With all consuming love and passion.
His dad listens to him without saying anything, face impassive, just taking it all in and offering him comfort when he needs him as Stiles talks until his voice is hoarse and his throat hurts and he doesn't have any more words to say to explain how fucked up everything is.
And how fucking lost he is.
And how much he just wants his dad to tell him it's gonna be okay, son and we'll find a way to fix it.
Not that he wants to fix Derek.
He doesn't think he's broken, just a little bent out of shape and sharp at the edges and maybe with a few cracks here and there.
He just wants to be with him again.
"I can't tell you what to do," the Sheriff says after Stiles is done, his voice steady and low. "Because I don't know Derek and I don't know how your relationship works. All I can do is offer you a little bit of my personal experience, and that is to give them some time. That kind of emotional abuse? It takes years for someone to learn how to deal with it, and just because they know whatever was said to them isn't true, it doesn't mean they believe it all the time. They might have the happiest of lives and be surrounded by people they love, but sometimes there's still that little voice inside their heads telling them they don't deserve it. Or that they're going to do something to mess it up."
Stiles swallows hard at that, wondering if those were the kinds of things going through Derek's mind whenever they were together, especially right when they started dating.
If Derek thought he'd do or say something that'd make Stiles not like him or not want to be with him anymore.
He doesn't like that the answer he'll probably get to that is yes.
"One thing you do have to do is talk to Allison," his dad keeps going. "From what you told me, she never mentioned having any other family than Chris, so it might be that this Kate person is not even related to her."
Stiles gives his dad a look.
Because the chances of an Argent not being an Argent are pretty slim.
"And if it turns out that she is," his das says. "I think you should explain to Allison the reason why Derek reacted the way he did and, for his sake, ask her if there's any chance Kate might stop by and visit them here."
Stiles' entire body goes cold.
He hadn't thought of that.
He wonders if Derek did, and if that's one of the reasons why he-
I can't be around them.
Fuck.
"Fuck," Stiles curses in a rush of breath, shoulders slumping.
"Language," his dad scoffs, not that there's any heat behind his words. "But considering they never talked about her, I don't think we need to worry about that."
Stiles hopes with everything he has that his dad is right.
"I have to talk to Allison," Stiles says, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"You do," the Sheriff agrees, and then gives him a pointed look. "But if they don't want to tell you why Kate is not in the picture anymore, you have to remember you have no right to pry into their family life looking for answers without their permission."
Stiles presses his lips together.
His dad just stares.
"I have to talk to Allison," Stiles says again, voice firmer and steadier and saner than it's been these past three days.
Because this is something he can be doing.
Searching for answers.
Putting the pieces together.
Looking for something concrete to help him explain to Derek and make him listen and believe Stiles had no idea about who Kate was.
And then he can-
"What do I do after I talk to Allison?" Stiles blinks at his dad. "Do I talk to Derek? Do I go see him? What?"
The Sheriff just gives him an unimpressed look when Stiles completely ignores his comment about not prying before letting his lips twitch up a little and say, "I raised you smart. I know you'll think of something."
Oh, yeah, like that helps.
"Sometimes I think you give me too much credit," Stiles huffs a dry laugh.
"Sometimes I think you don't give yourself enough," his dad, voice stern. "You love Derek, which means you won't be going into this without a thought. You don't want to hurt him more than he already is hurting, and that's what you'll have in mind while you're trying to figure out what to do after talking to your friend."
Stiles worries at his bottom lip, blinking a few times as he looks at his dad.
Because he's right.
He'd rather cut off his own arm than see that wrecked and pained look on Derek's face again, and that's why he's going to do everything he can to make sure he's okay.
First step: talking to Allison and getting some answers.
"Thanks, Dad," Stiles tells him, feeling a hundred times better now that he knows how he can go about all of this. "Thank you."
"Anytime, kid," his dad gives him a one armed hug, hand coming up to rest against the top of Stiles' head. "Now how about you drive home? Call your friends and let them know you're okay? Go back to work? Go back to living? Go back to thinking of a way to get your man back?"
Stiles snorts at the way his dad says your man, lips twitching up into a faint smile as he pats his dad on the chest and says, "You kicking me out, old man?"
The Sheriff shrugs, "It's been three days. I miss having the house to myself."
"I'll get out of your hair, then," Stiles says, rolling his eyes.
"You know you can always come to me, son," his dad tells him. "But you can't hide from your life, and you can't hide from your problems."
Stiles nods at him, taking a deep breath before letting it out slowly and saying, "Help me get my things?"
His dad rest his hand on his shoulder and says, "No."
Stiles gasps.
His dad grins.
Stiles sighs, "Fine. I'll do it on my own."
"And I'll walk you to your Jeep once you're ready to go."
Stiles' lips thin, knowing he'll have to talk to his friends about what happen and owe Danny one for driving his Jeep back to his dad's.
And do damage control with Scott and hope he's not super offended by Derek running the fuck away as soon as he learned who Scott's girlfriend was.
Stiles sighs, suddenly feeling all kinds of tired and worn out again.
His dad does walk him to his car, pulling him into a hug and telling him to call if he needs anything.
"Love you, son."
"Love you too, Dad," Stiles says, pulling the door shut and giving his dad one last wave as he pulls out of the garage and drives off.
And it's not until Stiles is halfway home that he realizes that when his dad said he loved Derek and that's what he was going to keep in mind while he thought this thing through, it didn't even cross Stiles' mind to tell him that he didn't.
"Thanks for getting my Jeep back," Stiles says, closing his locker as he sees Danny coming up to him and leaning against the wall.
"No problem," Danny tells him, eyes raking over Stiles' face. "I just want to know when you're going to tell me what happened."
It's Stiles' first day back at work after getting home from spending three days with his dad, and he's never been happier in his life to know he and Danny got scheduled on opposite shifts to Scott and Jackson.
Because even though Stiles might have figured out what the first step to sort this mess out is, he still has no idea how he's going to explain it all to Scott.
Who's been constantly texting and calling him since Stiles left Danny's apartment Saturday night.
Stiles will be forever grateful to his dad for not letting Scott in while he was staying there, telling him Stiles would come to him when he was ready to talk.
And that he should know better than try to puppy eye the Sheriff into letting him in.
Stiles loves his dad.
And he knows he can't really say anything to anyone before talking to Allison.
If she really is related to Kate, then there's a reason why she's been keeping that fact from them - her best friends and possibly her boyfriend -, and Stiles doesn't want to open his mouth and say something he shouldn't.
He doesn't want to hurt her like that, anymore than he wants to hurt the other people he loves.
"I'll tell you what happened," Stiles says, mentally adding as much as I can. "But I need to talk to Allison first."
Danny blinks at him.
"What does she have to do with anything?"
"I can't say," Stiles tells him, and at the look Danny gives him he adds, "I really can't, Danny. Unless Allison tells me she's fine with it, I can't mention it. Actually, you know what?" Stiles waves a hand in front of him. "Forget this conversation ever happened."
Danny just keeps looking at him before he lets out a breath, long and exasperated.
"Can you tell me how you're doing, though?" Danny asks him. "It's kind of worrying when you run out on us, hide at your dad's, and refuse to talk to anyone for three days."
Stiles winces.
He really doesn't need any more guilt over what happened.
He's feeling it anyway.
"I'm sorry," Stiles says quietly. "I didn't mean to worry any of you. I just wasn't-"
Stiles trails off, lump quickly forming in his throat.
"It's okay," Danny says, even though it's so obviously isn't by the frown he has on his face. "You don't have to talk about it right now."
"Thanks," Stiles offers him a grateful smile.
That slips when Danny raises an eyebrow and says, "Doesn't mean you don't have to talk about it later, though."
Stiles lets his head drop against his locker and he groans.
Danny just claps him on the back and smiles, "C'mon, we have work to do."
Stiles makes a face, but follows him to the ambulance.
Their first call ends up being an old man with respiratory problems, his neighbor waiting for them in front of the house when they arrive, and it doesn't take long before they're loading him into the ambulance and driving him to the hospital.
Danny doesn't try to ask him about what happened again, although he does keep sending him looks for the entire ride back to the station.
"Stop doing that," Stiles grumbles, shifting in his seat.
"Doing what?" Danny looks back at him innocently.
"You keep looking at me," Stiles scrunches up his nose "Like I'll crack and tell you everything if you just make me feel guilty enough."
Not that he already does.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Stiles almost believes him and thinks he's the one who's projecting.
But the way Danny's lips quirk up minutely tell him that he knows exactly what he's doing.
"Seriously, man," Stiles says, practically whining. "I can't tell you. It's not just about me. It's about Derek and Allison and I don't feel comfortable discussing it with people other than, you know, Derek and Allison."
Stiles bites down on his bottom lip to keep himself from adding, and my dad.
And also to ignore the sharp stab in his chest at saying Derek's name.
"Alright," Danny nods. "I'll let it go."
"Thanks, buddy," Stiles says, relieved.
"For now."
"We just had this conversation," Stiles tells him, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Danny shrugs, "You're one of my best friends, Stiles. You can't blame me for wanting to know about what happened so I can help you with it if you need me to."
Stiles blinks at him, affection spreading through him at having Danny call him one of his best friends.
Because even though they've known each other for years, he rarely ever calls anyone other than Jackson, who he met when they were both in diapers, that way.
Stiles' smile feels more genuine on his lips.
"Stop with the face," Danny snaps.
"What face?" Stiles asks innocently, smile turning into a smirk.
"That face."
"What face?" Stiles asks again, and then points a finger at himself. "The face of someone who loves you and is lucky to have you as a friend? This face?"
"I honestly don't know why I associate with you," Danny sighs.
"It's because sometimes I just don't know what to do with myself," Stiles says, trying for a joke but falling flat when his voice breaks at the end.
Danny doesn't call him on it, though, just purses his lips together and frowns, "Isn't that from a song?"
Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times before mumbling, "Yes, it is."
Because now that he's thinking about it, the lyrics kind of fit together nicely with his life at the moment.
And isn't that depressing?
"Better Dusty Springfield than your dad catching you doing that bit from Rocky Horror again," Danny muses out loud.
"Oh god," Stiles groans, now too busy being embarrassed to feel sorry for himself. "That was horrible."
Stiles was sixteen.
And he forgot to lock the bathroom door while showering.
His dad came barging in just as Stiles was singing the end bit of Sweet Transvestite at the top of his lungs.
And then apologized and said they needed to have a talk.
Incidentally, that's how Stiles came out.
And until this day his dad cringes every time Halloween comes around and he sees someone dressed as one of the characters from the movie.
Which is maybe why Stiles likes to dress as Dr. Frank-N-Furter every year.
"I think it was priceless," Danny grins. "I, for one, would like to have video evidence of it."
Stiles sputters, "I don't know why people think you're nice."
"It's the dimples," Danny says seriously, face splitting into another grin when Stiles barks out a surprised laugh.
At least he knows he can count on his friends to make him laugh.
When they get to the firehouse is to have Danny direct him to one of the couches at the far end corner of the big rec room, making sure they're sitting somewhere the few firefighters hanging around the kitchen can't hear them.
"Do you already know who you plan on talking to Allison without Scott knowing?" Danny asks him as they both flop down on the couch.
Stiles chews at his lip and plays with the hem of his shirt and avoids Danny's eyes.
Because he kind of does have a plan.
You see, the thing about Scott and Allison is that they tell each other pretty much everything.
Whatever way Stiles is going to play this, he's going to need to take that into consideration. The best way to make sure Allison won't say anything to Scott about Stiles wanting to talk to her is to do it while Scott's working.
Like, let's say, tonight.
"Please tell me you're not going to stalk her."
Stiles looks at Danny, offended.
"I'm not going to stalk her," Stiles says, and then adds, "And risk getting my arm broken when she realises I'm following her."
Danny smiles.
And it's pure evil.
"Plus, it's not like I don't already know what time she's off and what kind of car she drives and where she lives," Stiles shrugs.
"If I didn't know you, I'd think you're creepy."
"And yet, you'll still help me."
"I didn't agree to anything yet," Danny raises an eyebrow at him.
Only to have Stiles give him his best doe-eye look, bottom lip pursed forward in a pout.
Danny makes a face at him, "Fine. What do I have to do?"
"I'm gonna need you talk to Scott and keep him from seeing me so I can sneak out and drive to the hospital when our shift ends," Stiles says in the most serious tone he can muster. "You can use your soothing voice if you want to."
"My soothing voice," Danny says flatly.
"Yes," Stiles gives him a sharp nod. "You know, that sultry tone it gets whenever you're trying to convince someone you know what's best for them and that everything is going to be okay and that no sir, that pipe through your chest is not going to kill you."
"That was one time," Danny protests. "And we'd just gotten our certificates!"
"I'm not saying anything," Stiles raises his hands in surrender. "You know, considering that guy now has a wife and a kid and a scar the size of your finger on his shoulder and always sends us a batch of cookies on the anniversary of his rescue. It's just that you're the one who kept him calm just by talking while the guys were trying to figure out a way to get him out, and that's a wonderful quality in a person, Danny. Yes, you shouldn't have said that to him, but you still should be proud."
"You don't need to compliment me to get what you want," Danny says after a few beats of silence, sounding uncomfortable.
"I would never," Stiles says, tone completely serious. And then he breaks into a grin, "But that's good to know."
"You're a horrible person, Stilinski."
"I know, it keeps me awake at night," Stiles grins. "But you'll do it?"
"Yes, I'll do it," Danny sighs. "But you'll owe me one."
"When Jackson undoubtedly says something to offend Ethan and Ethan thinks it's best if you guys break up because your best friend is a douche, I'll help you."
Danny's lips thin but he doesn't try to say anything in Jackson's favor, just gives him a tilt of his chin in acknowledgement and says, "Thank you."
"Any time."
Danny doesn't say anything for a few seconds, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at Stiles consideringly.
"You know Scott won't be happy when he finds out about this," Danny says. "Especially when you refuse to tell us any of it."
Stiles scrubs a hand over his face, "I know, but I really can't say anything before I talk to Allison. Not even Scott."
Danny nods, "So I'll just keep my mouth shut and let you three handle it between each other."
"Yep," Stiles gives him a thumbs up. "And that's why even though Scott's my best friend, you are my favorite."
"I'm honored," Danny deadpans.
"As you should be."
They don't really talk after that, Danny going to the kitchen to get some water and being brought into conversation with a few of the firefighters while Stiles just stays where he is and wonders if he's doing the right thing.
He kind of feels like it's the only thing he can do right now, try and get some answers himself before he goes to Derek.
He just hopes Allison is willing to offer them.
The rest of his shift goes by in kind of a blur, Stiles' mind focused on keeping Scott from talking to him when he leaves and having a conversation with Allison that probably won't end well for either of them.
His dad's words about not prying sometimes come to mind, but Stiles pretends he's not listening.
Danny comes through for him when they clock out and Stiles hears Scott's bike driving into the parking lot, Danny giving him a significant look and Stiles mouthing the words I owe you before Danny jogs up to Scott.
He goes as far as putting a hand on Scott's shoulder and positioning them so Scott has his back to the door, leaving Stiles with plenty opportunity to get to his car without being seen.
Stiles makes a mental note to stock up the ambulance for as long as Danny wants him to.
And to make Scott Derek's Taco Sandwiches in hopes he forgives him for this.
At the first stoplight on his way to the hospital he takes his phone out of his pocket and types a quick text to Allison, worrying at his bottom lips as he hits send.
To: Allison
i have something of MAJOR IMPORTANCE to talk to you about so i'm coming to pick you up from work
To: Allison
dinner included if we're still speaking after our conversation
He doesn't get a response from her, not that he's expecting it.
And not that he needs one when he finds her leaning against her car as he walks around the lot after parking his Jeep, looking for the spot with the little white plaque with the words Dr. Argent written on it.
"Is everything okay?" Allison frowns at him as he stops in front of her, hands deep in his pockets. "Scott told me about Saturday."
And Stiles kind of feels like an asshole, at this moment.
To have Allison standing there and looking worried about him when he's about to ask her why she's been lying to them.
Well, not really lying, just, you know, keeping vital information about herself from her closest friends.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually," Stiles scratches at the back of his neck. "I just don't really know where to start."
Allison gives him a long look before unlocking her car and opening the door, climbing into the backseat and waving a hand for Stiles to get inside.
Stiles closes the door behind him and takes a deep breath before facing Allison, taking him the way her eyebrows are raised in curiosity.
"Now that we're comfortable," Allison says, clasping her hands together and raising an eyebrow at Stiles. "Why don't you start by telling me why you waited to come talk to me when you knew Scott wouldn't be around and I'd have no way of contacting him?"
Stiles purses his lips.
It's not like he's surprised by Allison figuring it out, but it still doesn't mean he likes being called on his shit.
Unless Derek is the one doing it.
"It's because I want to talk to you about your family," Stiles tells her, noticing the way Allison's expression turns carefully blank.
Stiles tries not to feel like he's doing something really really wrong.
He doesn't really succeed.
"I don't see why you have to get me alone to ask me about my dad," Allison says, sounding casual.
"I'm not here for your dad, Ally," Stiles says quietly. "I'm here because I want to know if you're related to a woman named Kate Argent."
Stiles doesn't, not really, but the thinning of Allison's lips at the mention of Kate's name is all the confirmation Stiles needs that Allison knows her.
And when Allison opens her mouth to speak, Stiles knows she's about to deny it.
The way her eyebrows twitch gives her away.
"I don't know why you've been keeping this from us, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Stiles tells her, even though he kind of really wants to know. "The reason why I'm here without Scott knowing is because I have no idea if he knows about this or not, and I didn't want to mention anything and complicate things between you two in case he didn't. And also because this has something to do with me and Derek and what happened Saturday night at Danny's."
Allison blinks at him at that, startled. "Derek?"
"Yes," Stiles nods, licking his lips. "There's a very specific reason why Derek reacted the way he did that night, and it has to do with a woman named Kate Argent."
Allison's expression turns uncertain, her fingers coming to play with the silver bracelet around her left wrist as she looks at him.
"Can I ask what that reason is?"
Stiles swallows, "You can, but I don't feel comfortable answering."
"Will you do it anyway?"
Stiles stares at her, taking in the hard twist of her lips and the nervous twitch of her fingers and the hard set of her shoulders and says, "I can only tell you that they used to date back when he lived in New York, and that it didn't end well."
And it's like Stiles' worst nightmares are confirmed when Allison's face falls, eyes going big and scared, skin turning pale.
"That's why he ran," Allison whispers. "When Scott told him my last name, that's why he ran."
Stiles nods, not really trusting himself to say anything.
Especially because saying something means thinking about Derek running from him and the look on his face and he just-
Stiles can't, okay?
"That's why I wanted to talk to you," Stiles tells her, voice low. "You don't have to tell me anything about her, but I have to let Derek know if there's a possibility that you two are close enough that she'll decide to drop by for a visit."
Allison's response is immediate, head shaking and eyes turning hard as she spits, "She won't. My dad would shoot her first."
Stiles blinks at her, startled.
Even Allison seems a little bit surprised at her outburst, but quickly lets out a breath to calm herself down and stares Stiles straight in the eye, a look of determination spread across her face.
Stiles thinks that whatever she's about to say is going to change his life forever.
And not in a good way.
"I'm going to tell you a story," Allison says, jaw set. "And it's not gonna be a happy one."
Definitely not in a good way.
"You don't have to," Stiles says, not really because he doesn't want to know but because he thinks he doesn't want to hear it.
Any of it.
"I want to," Allison gives him a sad look. "Scott already knows about it, and from what you just told me I think you should know about it, too."
Stiles has to admit he feels a little bit relieved at knowing this is something he won't have to keep from Scott.
One last thing to add to his pile of guilt.
"That still doesn't mean I'll tell you everything," Allison says, eyes going from Stiles' face to a spot behind his shoulder. "There are some things I don't like to talk about, ever, with anyone. Not even Scott."
Stiles' heart constricts in his chest, stomach flipping, mouth going dry.
He kind of wishes he'd listen to his dad.
So, you know, he wouldn't have to listen to this.
"I won't ask you any questions," Stiles tells her, because he really doesn't want to know more than she's willing to share. "You can tell me whatever you think I should know or you're comfortable with saying, but I won't ask you anything more about it."
Allison nods at him, pulling her legs up on the seat and close to her chest, her chin resting on top of her knee.
"Kate is my dad's sister," Allison starts, and even though Stiles was expecting it, to have confirmation that they are indeed related is like being slapped in the face. "She's a lot closer to my age than his, so growing up she was more like an older sister to me than anything else. Especially because my dad didn't have a good relationship with his father."
Stiles presses his lips together.
He doesn't like that tone, the implication, the words that are coming out of Allison's mouth as she keeps talking.
"Dad always welcomed Kate into our house because of that," Allison keeps going. "Because if she was with us it meant she wasn't spending any time with him."
See?
This is not good.
In fact, this is very very bad.
Something must show on his face because Allison just nods her head and says, "You know where this is going."
Stiles shakes his head, "I'm not going to assume anything."
Like the reason behind Kate being the way she was with Derek was because that's how she grew up.
Like she didn't think her words and actions were a big deal because that was what she was used to, and that was the only way she knew how to show someone she cared about them.
Like she was only following the cycle she found herself in, because that was how her father treated her and that was how she would treat everyone else.
Like Derek.
And maybe even Allison.
"I'm not going to pretend I know what my grandfather was like, because I never had any contact with him. Dad always made sure of that," Allison says, shaking her head a little. "He wasn't so lucky with getting Kate away from him, and I have a pretty good idea what Kate went through while growing up and what having him around did to her."
Stiles holds his breath, hands clenched so tight his nails are biting marks into his palm.
"Mostly because I went through it, too," Allison whispers, and Stiles' stomach drops. "Because of her."
"Allison," Stiles rasps out, leaning forward but freezing when Allison scoots further away from him and shakes her head.
Fuck everything, seriously.
"You said you weren't going to ask any questions," Allison huffs out something torn between a laugh and a sob, thumb wiping the wetness in her eyes. "She was just- God, I hate that I loved her so much. She was older and pretty and she always let me play dress up with her clothes, and she used to do my makeup and my hair and it was so much fun. It was what I thought having a real sister would be like. Even when she was mean. Especially when she was mean, because the girls at school were always complaining about how annoying their older sisters were, so I never thought there was anything wrong with the way she treated me."
Stiles looks helplessly at her as Allison makes another sound like she doesn't know whether to find all of this funny or heartbreaking.
Stiles goes with heartbreaking, imagining little Ally looking up to someone only to have them destroy her.
He thought it'd be impossible for him to hate this woman more, but as it turns out? He totally can.
"It wasn't bad when I was a kid, but as I started getting older? It was little things at first, like comments about how her clothes didn't fit me well or my hair was a mess to work with or my skin was too bad to bother to use good makeup on. Then it was about how embarrassed she was to take me places with her and hang out with people she knew because of the way I walked or talked or dressed or-," Allison cutts of, shaking her head. "It was like I wasn't smart enough or pretty enough or sophisticated enough to be in her presence. And the mere fact that she still wasted her time with me was like this- this gift she was giving me."
Stiles closes his eyes, thinking if Derek ever felt the same way.
Stiles thinks he might have.
"It was like I couldn't do anything right. Like the more I tried the more I messed up until I got so anxious whenever my dad would tell me she'd be spending some time with us that I'd-," Allison stops again, entire body locked tight. "It was bad, Stiles. Really bad."
Stiles gulps, hands still clenched tight as he stares at her.
"My mom was the one who found out," Allison says quietly. "Right before she got sick. Kate was at our house, visiting, and my mom got home earlier than usual that day. She saw Kate-," Allison lets out a slow breath. "She heard. She heard what kind of things Kate used to say to me. That night when my dad got home they told me to go to my room and turn on the music as loud as I could. The next morning Kate wasn't there anymore, and I never saw her again."
Stiles has a newfound respect for Mr. Argent right now.
He'll even go as far as saying he likes the guy.
"It took me a while before I could understand that what she was doing was wrong and I didn't deserve it," Allison says looking at him straight in the eye as if willing him to understand something. "That it wasn't normal for people to treat each other like that. And that there was nothing wrong with me."
"It took me a while before I could understand that what she was doing was wrong and I didn't deserve it," Allison says looking at him straight in the eye as if willing him to understand something. "That it wasn't normal for people to treat each other like that. And that there was nothing wrong with me."
Stiles blinks at her, thinking he gets it.
Like Allison is trying to tell him that maybe Derek's not there yet, at the point of realizing Kate was the one in the wrong, not him.
"So the only thing I can tell you is that Kate is not a good person," Allison keeps going. "She might be like that because of my grandfather and the way she was raised, but that still doesn't excuse what she did to me. And I'm not going to assume Derek went through the same thing as I did when he was with her, but I understand that what happened to me wasn't my fault, and that I wasn't doing anything wrong. I know that, and I understand that. But I can't tell you Derek does, too, since we're different people who deals with things in a different way, and I don't know what happened to him."
Allison lets that last statement hang between them for a few heavy seconds, Stiles torn between wanting to hug her or open the car door and throw up in the middle of the parking lot, before sighing and letting her head drop back against the back seat window with a thud.
At least he has some answers now, a little bit of understanding about who Kate is and the kinds of things she-
He gets it, even though he wishes he didn't.
Allison sharing her story makes him understand Derek's a bit more, even though he doesn't have all the facts yet.
"You know I can't tell you about what happened to him," Stiles says quietly, shaking his head a little. "Or if anything happened to him," Stiles quickly adds when Allison looks back at him.
"I don't want you to tell me," Allison tells him. "Derek can tell me himself, someday, if he wants to. But I can assure you that Kate won't be stepping foot in Beacon Hills. Not unless she wants to deal with my dad. And me. And I can tell you that if she does, she won't be coming out unscratched."
Stiles can at least breathe a sigh a relief at that, knowing that there's no risk of Derek bumping into her in town.
And also feel a little bit scared of Allison and her family.
"You sound like you're from the mob," Stiles remarks, blinking at her when Allison gives him a faint smirk.
"They taught me a lot more than first aid when I spent my summers in France growing up," Allison tells him. "I'm not supposed to talk about it."
Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying in a weak voice, "Okay."
Because, really, what's he supposed to say to that?
They don't say anything for a few seconds, just sit there in Allison's car, thinking about the conversation they just had and what was shared and the meaning of it all.
"I'm kind of feeling better now that I've told you this," Allison remarks, sounding a little surprised. "Like when I told Scott. It makes me feel like I'm lighter, somehow."
"Why didn't you before?" Stiles asks her, genuinely curious. "It's not like it matters to us who your family is."
Allison gives him a small and pleased smile, expression turning serious as she says, "You know how hard it is to tell someone you love that you're not the person they think you are. That something happened to you that scarred you and made you a little bit different than other people. It's hard to tell them that there are pieces of who you are they don't know yet, and it's scary to think that once they learn about them, they won't love you the same way anymore."
Stiles' breath hitches at that, wondering if part of the reason Derek hasn't told him the whole story about Kate yet is because he's afraid it'll make Stiles not want to be with him, like telling him is just another thing that he could be doing wrong.
Like he was avoiding it all this time because he didn't want them to end.
And that the reason why he told Stiles he couldn't do this was because of the possibility of it all crashing down on top of their heads, so he took the plunge before Stiles had a chance to and walked away.
Because he was scared of losing Stiles, of losing them.
Even though breaking up with him would be the last thing Stiles would do.
And Stiles' heart is breaking all over again.
"There's nothing you could possibly tells us that would make us like you any less, Allison," Stiles says softly, wrapping a hand around Allison's ankle and squeezing it. "You're one of our best friends, you're family, and we love you. Nothing's gonna change that."
The smile Allison gives him now is still small but it's brighter, eyes wet as she looks at him and nods, "Thanks, Stiles."
Stiles shakes his head, "Thank you for telling me. You didn't have to, and I can only imagine how hard it was for you to do it, so thank you for trusting me enough to say something."
It also wasn't something easy for him to hear, and it hurts, but he's glad he did it.
"It's okay," Allison tells him, and when Stiles makes a face at her she huffs. "Well, I mean, it's not okay, but I feel better now that I've done it. I didn't think that I would, but I do. So thank you for that."
"Any time," Stiles pats her ankle. "Really. You're my best friend's girl, but more than that, you're my friend. And friends help each other out. So if you ever need someone to talk to or go to the shooting range with, I'm your man."
The smile Allison's gives him is more genuine now, dimples showing as she lets her legs down and leans in to pull Stiles into a hug.
Stiles makes sure to hug her back twice as hard.
"I know you got more than you were hoping for when you decided to talk to me," Allison says, letting him go. "I just hope it helped with, you know, you and Derek."
Stiles doesn't say anything back.
Because even though Allison answered some of his questions about Kate and did help him understand Derek a little bit more, he still doesn't know anything about Kate and Derek together and what happened between them.
Not really, anyway.
So Stiles offers her a soft smile and says, "How about I take you out to dinner and we talk about lighter things while eating hamburgers and drinking milkshakes?"
"I like," Allison grins. "And I've been meaning to tell you about the guy who got a bullet vibrator stuck up his ass."
Stiles snorts, smiling back.
His friends, really.
"I'm ready for you to apologize to me," Scott says as he flops down on Stiles' couch and crosses his arms over his chest.
Stiles fights down the urge to tackle Scott to the ground and hug the shit out of him.
Because this is so much like him, giving Stiles the time he needs to figure his shit out; and coming to him when Scott's ready to forgive him for being a shity friend and keeping things from him.
Their friendship is a thing of beauty and strange interaction, and Stiles thinks he's about the luckiest person in the world to have Scott McCall as his best friend.
So Stiles forgets all about fighting urges and launches himself at Scott, arms wrapping around his waist and face pressed against his shoulder as they both topple to his living room floor.
His talk with Allison yesterday left him with too many things to think about, a sick and twisted feeling in his stomach, and emotionally drained.
He really only had time for a quick shower before he fell face down on his bed, so he hasn't had any real time to think about anything he's learned from their conversation or decide what he's going to do next.
Mostly because he was just in his second cup of coffee and still not entirely awake yet when Scott made his appearance.
Which is something he's now glad about, as they roll around on the floor and laugh.
Because it means he won't have to figure this out alone.
His best buddy will help him with it.
"I'm sorry," Stiles says, voice muffled by Scott's shirt. "I just didn't know if I could tell you anything before I talked to Allison."
Scott sobers up at that, laugh cutting off.
Stiles lets him get a hand on his shoulder and push him off of him, both of them sitting up and moving so they can rest their backs against Stiles couch.
Scott just stares at him for a few seconds, eyes serious, lips pressed thin, "Allison told me she told you about-"
Scott doesn't finish the sentence, just waves a hand in front of him.
Stiles nods, voice low when he answers, "Yeah. I'm sorry she- And you- I just, no one should have to go through that."
Scott gives Stiles' knee a pat, "I agree with you, man. It almost-," Scott swallows, shaking his head. "It wasn't easy when she told me about it. I didn't really have one of the best reactions."
Stiles bumps their shoulders together, showing Scott he understands.
"It brought back some not-so-happy memories," Scott says, voice dropping low. "So it wasn't- I had a hard time knowing she went through some of the same stuff mom did."
"I'm sorry, buddy," Stiles says, pressing his lips together and leaning against Scott's side, making sure his best friend knows he's there.
Because even though it's been years since Scott's dad was last in his life, he left some pretty heavy shit for Scott to deal with behind.
Scott nods at him, "So I'm here if you need someone to talk to about-," Scott makes vague hand gestures again. "You know, after you apologize to me."
Stiles snorts, turning his head so he can stare at Scott, "I thought I just did."
"Nope," Scott shakes his head. "You apologized for my shitty childhood, but not for what you did."
Stiles lets out a long sigh, humor fading as he stares at his best friend.
"I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls," Stiles starts. "And kept avoiding you. And got Danny to distract you so I could sneak out and go talk to your girlfriend without you knowing it. I just didn't know if you knew about-," the hand gestures are catching. "So I didn't want to say anything and cause you and Allison to fight. So I figured if I could talk to her before I talked to you, it'd be easier to explain things."
"I don't support your methods," Scott gives him a long look. "But I can understand them."
"Does this mean you forgive me?" Stiles stares at him, eyes shining with hope.
"Sure," Scott says, and then adds, "If you make me breakfast for a week."
Stiles wrinkles his nose up at him, but at the arched eyebrow stare Scott gives him, he sighs and nods.
"If that's what I have to do to make you love me again," Stiles eyes him dramatically. "Then so be it."
Scott grins at him, warm and bright and fond.
Stiles loves him a little bit more at that moment.
That is, until his face goes all serious and business again and he says, "Now are you ready to talk about what happened?"
Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times, ducking his head, "Are you going to let it go if I say no?"
"I think it'll help if you do," Scott tells him. "Talk about it, I mean. I know talking to someone helped a lot when Allison told me about her."
Stiles frowns, "But we didn't talk about Allison."
"I know," Scott says, shrugging. "I talked to my mom."
Stiles blinks at him, surprised.
You'd think people would avoid at all costs mentioning that sort of thing to Mrs. McCall, but Stiles guesses she has an unique perspective on the subject.
And an extremely personal understanding of it.
So maybe she's the best one to go to when dealing with stuff like this.
Stiles wonders if he should talk to her, too.
Or if he got the equivalent of that talk when he spoke to Allison, and the other side of the spectrum when he spoke to his dad.
"I don't really-," Stiles starts, stops, licks his lips. "I don't feel comfortable talking about it."
"About what happened or about why it happened?"
And this is why Scott is one of his best friends.
Because he gets him.
"About why it happened," Stiles admits. "I can tell you the same I told Allison, and that is that Derek and Kate used to date."
"And it didn't end well," Scott fills in.
Stiles nods.
And wishes he actually knew more than that.
Knew what happened and the extent of the damage she caused.
He wishes Derek had told him.
He hopes Derek will tell him, someday, maybe after Stiles explains to him he doesn't run the risk of seeing Kate if he hangs out with Stiles and his friends.
"That's why he reacted the way he did," Stiles tells him. "When he found out about Allison. Because he can't-," Stiles swallows hard. "He said he can't risk seeing Kate again. Can't risk being with someone that could be close to her."
Stiles' eyes fill with tears as he remembers it, Derek's face and Derek's broken voice and Derek's entire body shaking as he apologized over and over and over again for a mistake that wasn't his.
"That's why you went to talk to Allison," Scott says in a rush of breath, understanding. "Because you wanted to make sure that if she was related to Kate, she wouldn't be around here where Derek could see her."
Stiles nods, not really trusting himself to say anything.
"I didn't-," Stiles takes a deep breath. "I didn't ask her about- I told her she didn't have to tell me anything, that I just wanted to know if they were close enough Kate would stop by for a visit, so I could let Derek know. But Allison said she thought I should know."
"About what happened to her," Scott fills in.
Stiles nods again.
"Because then you'd understand a little more about what might have happened to Derek," Scott still finishes for him.
"Yeah," Stiles rasps out. "I know- With what you and Mrs. McCall-"
"You understand," Scott nods. "A little bit, but you understand what it does to someone to be around that kind of thing."
"But it's not the same, though," Stiles blinks at him. "I think that's why Allison decided to tell me. Because even though they're different people who deal with things in a different way, it was still the same person who did this to them."
"I know it sounds a little bit selfish of me," Scott says after a few beats of silence. "But I'm kind of glad you know now. I think one of the reasons why it was hard for me to come to terms with it was because I couldn't talk to my best friend about it."
Stiles gives Scott a small smile, wobbly but still genuine.
"I know now," Stiles tells him. "You can talk to me now. If it gets- If it ever gets overwhelming."
Scott nods at him, eyes intent on his face. "And you know you can talk about it with me, right? This kind of thing weights in a person, and I want you to know neither you or Derek have to deal with it alone, okay?"
"Okay," Stiles breathes out, letting his head drop against Scott's shoulder. "Thanks, buddy."
"You're welcome," Scott pats his shoulders. "And do you know what you're next step is going to be? Now that you talked to Ally and know that unless Kate wants to pick a fight with the hospital, the fire department, and Mr. Argent, she'll stay away?"
Stiles opens and closes his mouth, stomach churning with unease.
He knows he has to talk to Derek, that that was the entire point of going to Allison and finding out about all of this shit.
But he's kind of terrified out of his freaking mind of doing so.
It still feels too-
Too recent and fresh and painful and raw to think about Derek and what happened.
It's only been five days and every time Stiles thinks about it, it gets a little hard to breathe.
So he knows that's the next logical step, to go to him and explain what happen and tell him he doesn't have to worry, but Stiles doesn't know if he can do it.
Scott, who has his eyes trained on Stiles' face, must see his struggle in his expression, because he jabs him in the rib with a finger and says, "You can do it. If it means protecting Derek and making sure he's okay, I know you can do it. You love him, and you'd never let anything, like yourself being scared shitless, keep you from being there for him."
Stiles opens his mouth to say Scott has too much faith in him, but quickly snaps it back shut as the meaning of Scott's words sink in.
And how his dad told him almost the same thing.
And he didn't deny it.
Because there was no reason to deny it.
Because he-
"I love Derek," Stiles whispers, eyes going round as he blinks at Scott. "I'm in love with Derek."
"Do you need to lie down?" Scott asks him, lips twitching and having too much fun because of Stiles' pain. "I find that sometimes helps when the awful sense of realization sets in."
"Now it's not the time to paraphrase Young Adult authors," Stiles says, voice a little faint.
Scott swallows down his laugh, eyes glinting as he says, "If you say so."
"I do say so," Stiles hisses. "Because this is not funny, Scott."
And it really, really, really fucking isn't.
Because it took Stiles this long to realize that he loves Derek.
And it actually took Derek walking away from-
It just really fucking isn't, and he doesn't appreciate Scott's attitude right now.
"I'm sorry," Scott sobers up immediately when Stiles tells him as much. "I thought you knew."
"You knew," Stiles points an accusatory finger at him. "My dad knew. I think Allison figured it out when I went to talk to her. But me? Nope. I didn't know. Not until now. Right now, that is. At this moment in time," Stiles swallows hard, voice dropping low. "When I have no idea if he- And we- And if it's-"
"Hey," Scott says, expression serious. "No. None of that, okay? Things will work out."
"How do you know?" Stiles tries to snap at him, but his voice comes out weak and whiny instead.
"Because I saw the way he kept looking at you through dinner," Scott says, tone serious. "It was like the way your dad looked at your mom. The way I look at Allison. He might not know it yet, or he might be scared of admitting it, but he loves you. It was written all over his face for anyone to see."
"Except me," Stiles says softly.
"You are known to not notice things unless they're being waved in front of your face," Scott points. "Or being explained to you. With the help of visual aids."
Stiles elbows him in the ribs.
That doesn't make it any less true, though.
"Seriously, though," Scott says, hand squeezing his shoulder. "You can do this. You can go to him and explain and you two will be okay again."
Stiles swallows hard, hoping to hell Scott is right.
Because that's all he wants, for them to be okay again.
It's only been five days and he misses Derek so much it hurts sometimes.
But for things to be okay he needs to do as Scott believes he can do and go talk to him.
Even though he's scared out of his mind.
Not that that really matters, because in the end, the possibility of having Derek again if he just takes this chance wins out over his own fear of rejection every time.
Still doesn't mean he's not anxious as fuck about it and will probably have about three anxiety induced panic attacks over all of this and what he has to do later.
Much later.
When Scott is not here to witness it.
"Okay," Stiles nods, licking his lips, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I can do this."
He doesn't know whether he's trying to convince himself or Scott about this.
No.
That's a lie.
He's trying to convince himself but he's not really doing a very good job at it.
"Yes, you can," Scott says, giving him a significant look. "You're going to talk to Derek and everything will work itself out."
Scott is doing a better job, though.
Sort of.
You know, in the way that it is always nice to have people around you who have faith in you, but where you can't help but wonder if they're only saying this because they're your friends and love you and it's kind of their job.
And then he remembers his eighteenth birthday when he told Scott he was going to get his nipples pierced because he heard they make people's nipples really sensitive, and really, how awesome is that, and Scott laughed so hard he fell ass down on his mom's coffee table and broke it.
Mrs. McCall wasn't happy.
And neither was Stiles, when he went ahead and got an appointment, only to go limp in his chair and slide to the floor as soon as he took off his shirt and Mike, the body piercer, came at him with a needle.
Scott still has pictures of him passed out on the cold tattoo parlor floor with dots on his nipples from where Mike marked where the needle would go in.
That was not one of Stiles' proudest moments.
But with this?
Maybe Scott is right.
Maybe Stiles really can do this.
"Yep," Stiles nods at him, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. "I'm going to talk to Derek."
And, hopefully, everything will work itself out.
Otherwise, Stiles has no idea what he's going to do.
a/n: i don't think stiles' panic attack is very descriptive? it happens before the first break in this chapter. i focused more on writing what was going on inside his head at the moment than the physical part of it, but i still thought i should let everyone know.
the discussion of past emotional abuse happens between stiles and allison, and even though allison doesn't go into much detail about what happened to her - she mentions how she used to be subjected to degrading comments about the way she looked and acted - it still might upset some people.
there's also talk of kate suffering the same kind of abuse from her father, but it's mostly speculation on allison's part, since she never had any type of contact with him to know what kind of person he was. it's a pretty good guess, though. like, spot on, really.
and scott mentions his parents's relationship, and the abuse his mom suffered while with his dad.
