Other people's heartache

Chapter 7: Tuning out

The next morning.

The temperature was about the same: an oven set to baking. Stiff from a night of tossing and turning in an unfamiliar bed, Stiles peeped over the edge of the bed. Derek was still in the same position. The only difference was that he had given up all pretence of sleeping and had opened his eyes.

'Get up,' Stiles ordered. 'We're gonna have a talk.'

Without waiting to see if Derek would follow, Stiles exited the room and started to prepare breakfast. He began by taking a carton of yoghurt out of the fridge and retrieving a bowl from one of the lower cabinets. He was in the middle of pouring the yoghurt into it when a bleary eyed Derek shuffled out of the bedroom. His half nakedness – light grey cotton elastic-waisted pyjama bottoms; nothing else - was highly distracting.

'Care to explain about yesterday?' Stiles asked, replacing the carton and adding a layer of muesli to the yoghurt. In the fruit and vegetable drawer – which, thanks to Stiles, actually contained both – he spotted some luscious red strawberries. He chopped them into pieces as Derek sat down. Stiles glanced at him. Derek was not there again.

'Got it out of your system?' Stiles inquired, raising his voice. Derek startled and scowled as if by instinct.

'What?' he muttered.

'I don't know. You tell me,' Stiles replied. He sprinkled the strawberry pieces into the bowl and got a spoon out of the cutlery drawer. He gave the whole concoction a good stir and slid the bowl towards Derek. Derek immediately started to eat. Stiles strongly suspected that this had less to do with Derek being hungry and more with having a handy excuse not to respond. It didn't matter. Stiles could do the talking.

'Look, you don't have to tell me. I'm probably better off not knowing, but it might be good for you. I know that sounds like I've gotten it from a TV show. Pop psychology 101: talking about your feelings helps. It's true, though. It's something about the sharing, I guess. Maybe your pride is standing in the way?'

Stiles paused there to see if Derek would take the opportunity to confirm or deny. Derek didn't, so Stiles continued.

'If you told me, I wouldn't be Stiles. I would be like just a random person and I could say that it's alright or that it's gonna be alright or whatever you'd want me to say. You know, something sort of vague and meaningless which is still somehow comforting. I think I could manage that. I'd maybe pat your back if you'd allow me and I'd say, 'there, there.' See, that means nothing, but it's kinda nice to hear, isn't it? At least, I always think it is. I mean, I don't know why you'd care what I think...'

Stiles faltered when he saw that Derek was barely paying attention. Derek still showed no signs of opening up anytime soon. Instead, he seemed to be closing down. Maybe what he needed was not TLC, but the gloves off approach.

'Okay, your bullshit ends right here. What the hell is going on with you? Tell me or I'll... keep talking. You know I'll do it,' Stiles said, suitably stern but not overly harsh. Well, that was quite possible the lamest threat ever, he thought. Under normal circumstances, going off on Derek would be relatively easy, but since reading the notebook Stiles found it nearly impossible. It was difficult to berate a guy when you knew he'd written stuff like: every day I wake up hoping to die. Derek trembled. It was a short, violent shudder.

'You're trembling,' Stiles observed. 'Why are you trembling? Are you cold?'

'No,' Derek replied with such vehemence that Stiles immediately dropped the subject.

'Derek, come on. I know this is not about me, but it's killing me to see you this way.'

'Why?'

'Why? Why? Will you stop it with the stupid questions? Because I care! That's why.'

(***)

Author's note: 'Every day I wake up hoping to die' is a snippet of the lyrics from the song What would you do? by City High (covered by Bastille).