It had been a month sense the funeral and Derek hadn't seen anyone since. He took off for about two weeks, driving anywhere and drinking anything to keep his mind off Stiles. He had texted Scott before he left. Kept it brief- told Scott he had a few things to take care of out of state and he'd be back in a couple weeks, text if there's an emergency.
But there was no emergency. No one was paying any attention to the town anymore. Allison's father took out a lone Omega about a week after the funeral, but it was nothing to cause any panic. So Derek stayed away until he figured out that he was just running from something that was always going to follow him. He ended up back in Beacon Hills after his two weeks but he didn't let anyone know he was back. He just went back to his loft and drifted along his path of self-destruction.
He hated himself for being so affected. Sure, the kid was meant to be his mate, but there would be other mates now that Stiles was gone. Derek just wished he could have stopped it. He knew he should have trusted his instincts that night and just went over to the Stiles's house. He should have tried harder, learned quicker… been better. He should have been a better friend to Stiles and actually paid attention to signs that Stiles was his mate.
Derek had ample time to reanalyze every interaction he had ever had with Stiles. Every time Stiles saved Derek's life, their bond grew stronger, but Derek ignored it. Every time Derek went back to save Stiles's life or to make sure Stiles was okay after an attack or a fight, their bond grew, but Derek didn't pay attention.
Derek spent most of his days asleep and most of his nights in a drunken haze. Some days, he would let himself wolf-out and run through the woods, but those days were rare. He usually didn't feel like going anywhere. He hadn't noticed when he stopped eating every day. He didn't pay attention to how much he was drinking, sleeping, or hurting himself.
He had started up a new habit of hurting himself as much as he could some days. He would break his bones just to watch the wolf heal them. He would stab himself in random places just to see how quickly the wounds would heal. He didn't know why he started this, he just knew that it passed the time and it reminded him that he was still alive even though Stiles was dead.
Scott showed up in the loft on a Thursday. Derek wasn't sure why Scott was there or how he even figured out that Derek was back. He just wished Scott wasn't there to see the wreck that Derek had become.
Scott could smell blood as he walked up to Derek's door. He didn't even bother knocking, fearing that Derek was hurt or worse.
The loft was a mess when Scott opened the door. It reeked of stale alcohol, blood, and despair. Empty bottles littered almost every surface and Derek was sitting in the middle of his couch with a half empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a knife stabbed into his left leg. Scott's instinct was to run over and remove the knife and make sure there wasn't an enemy still somewhere in the loft. But on a second thought, Scott realized Derek was the only enemy in the room. He took a swig of whiskey and looked at the knife like it was just part of his leg that had always been there.
Scott approached Derek calmly but quickly. "Derek, what's going on here?"
Derek ignored the question and instead pulled the knife out of his leg, letting a hiss of relief escape his mouth. "Scott. What are you doing here?"
"Checking on you. Which apparently, I should have done a while ago." Scott watched Derek drop the knife onto the couch and set the bottle on the coffee table.
"Well, nice seeing you. I'm off to bed. Until next time." Derek slurred as he tried to stand up.
Scott pushed the alpha back onto the couch, not that it took much effort. "How long have you been like this, man?"
Derek stared at his hand and acted like he was counting with his fingers. "Since day one."
"Day one of what?" Scott had the general idea, but he needed Derek to say it.
"Stiles. After the funeral. Doesn't matter." Derek was getting slightly angry. He hadn't actually talked out loud in weeks and now Scott was here and making him mention Stiles.
"Are you kidding me? Derek, why do you even care so much? I know he was part of the pack, but you barely interacted with him unless lives were in danger."
"Don't worry about it. This is something I'll deal with on my own. It's hard to explain and you don't need to know."
"Fine, don't explain it." Scott was trying to hide how angry Derek was making him. Derek was acting as if he was the only one who lost someone important. "Sit here and waste away, leaving the rest of the pack to figure out this whole werewolf shit on our own. But by all means, isolate yourself from the only people left on this earth that actually care about you and know what you're going through."
"God damn-" Derek sighed with a low growl in his voice. "Stiles was my mate. Okay? I haven't had the whole werewolf 'birds and bees' talk with you, but mating is different for werewolves. I didn't even know he was supposed to be my mate until I found out he was dead. I should have known; there were signs. But I didn't have the time or energy to deal with actually letting our bond as mates grow. Now he's dead and if I had paid even the slightest bit more attention to him, he might still be here."
"So you blame yourself because you didn't realize you and Stiles were-" Scott didn't really know if he wanted to complete that sentence. He couldn't really wrap his mind around the whole idea.
"It's not just that I blame myself. Part of my soul died with him. That's the way this whole thing works. I can't be whole without him."
"He's the only one? Werewolves only get one mate? That sounds kind of ridiculous." Scott hated to think that Derek's only mate in the entire world was dead. There had to be another choice.
"Not exactly. It's possible to have other mates, but it's harder once the soul's been broken like that. Things are never going to be what they should have been."
"I'm sorry Derek. But it's kind of like that for all of us. We're all changed because of this. Life became something entirely different the day Stiles decided to…" Neither Scott nor Derek actually wanted that sentence finished, so Scott let the words die on his lips.
"We're all going to make it through this because you know that Stiles will murder us if we showed up in the afterlife too soon. You think any one of us has actually been doing okay for the past month? We're all falling apart and I think that we need to be a pack again. None of us can do this alone and I think your little decision not to fess up about how close you and Stiles were or- were going to be- is bad for both you and for the pack." Scott stared at Derek, trying to see if anything he was saying was getting through to the drunken alpha. Scott sighed but knew that Derek had been listening. "You're going to sober up tonight and we're calling a pack meeting tomorrow. We're all done doing this alone."