Chapter 11

Home life was boring. Well not normally, but Derek wasn't allowed to get off the couch half the time, so it was boring. And it was driving him insane because his wrist had dulled like a PS3 left sitting too long without action. He was over his month, and he was certain Stiles was his soul mate, but he couldn't do a damn thing about it because the Stilinski tour wasn't over and Derek couldn't just have that kind of conversation over the phone.

Laura, put Stiles on the phone. Oh hey. So I know you don't believe in cosmic juju, but we're soul mates, and I think you think so too because you kissed me goodbye and you looked like doing so ripped your heart out, so could you fly out to LA so we can put our wrists together and call it official? Thanks.

Yeah, like hell that was gonna happen.

On the bright side, his couch restriction would be lifted soon and then maybe he could fly out to meet the tour as a consultant or, hell, a concert groupie. As it was, he'd been living off watching old videos on youtube of Stiles doing interviews, music videos, and concerts…. And Laura's frequent updates.

"Oh, I heard your phone," his mother said as she brought him a bag of Taco Bell and set it on the side table. "What's new in Stiles-town?"

Derek chuckled as she leaned over to kiss the top of his head. "Nothing new. Uncle Peter is no one's favorite. He's strict and no fun. Except when he's hitting on the interns."

"Ha! And he talks to me about professionalism," Talia said, grinning broadly and taking a seat by her son. "And?"

"And what?" Derek asked, closing his phone.

"No updates about Stiles?" she asked, leaning in until their shoulders touched. Gently, she ran her fingers over Derek's dim wrist.

"Mother," Derek chided softly and moved to take her teasing hand in his.

"Derek," she answered in a mimic. "Your cast comes off this weekend, and he's only got two shows left in this tour. Then he's no longer a client."

"And then I'll talk to him," Derek agreed. "After the tour."

His mother, though joking and smiling a moment before, went quiet. Her eyes were staring at nothing in particular and she pressed her lips gently together. Laura used to call this "Listening to the radio" when they talked about it in public. In a moment, his mom would smoothly re-enter the conversation, as though she'd only paused to hear a quick weather report on the radio, only now she'd have something interesting to add.

As expected, only a few heartbeats passed before Talia straightened slightly and made a thoughtful sound. Usually she'd start smiling after one of those moments, but she wasn't smiling this time. "Derek, I think you need to go to Arizona."

"Why?" She'd been the one nervous about him flying with the cast. Now she wanted him to go see Stiles in concert in Tucson?

With a quick pat on his uninjured leg, Talia stood and started for the closet where the suitcases were. "Come on. Let's pack. We need to leave tonight if we're going to make it in time."

"You're coming too?" he asked, brow knit and confusion taking over, as he carefully got to his feet and grabbed his crutches for support.

"Of course. This is an important event. Plus I'm on a three day vacation. No sense spending it at home." She paused after ripping the suitcase from where it had been snuggly fitted into the closet and turned to face him, her normal calm smile back in place. "Trust me, Derek. You want to be there."


Maybe he mom wasn't psychic. But on the other hand, maybe she definitely and completely was. They drove instead of flew, which was odd but turned out to be the first good decision, because a storm delayed all flights leaving LAX for TUS for three hours. Derek did not like the idea of sitting in a crowded airport, surrounded by antsy people in a hurry, with nothing but fast food and overly priced health foods to sustain himself on. Halfway to Tucson, he checked the flight they would have taken, because maybe four and a half hours via delayed plane was better than eight hours in a car, but apparently their flight had some kind of malfunction and had been cancelled.

Driving eight hours was definitely the better choice.

The second definitive clue that his mother was psychic came just as they passed the border into Arizona. Halfway to Stiles, and his phone got a breaking news alert. Since joining the tour, he'd put an alert on anything related to Stiles, so he expected the notification to be an update on the concert in two days, but it was so much bigger than that.

"Scandal and Heartbreak Behind Stage Doors: What Stiles Stilinski Doesn't Want You to Know About His Ex", the title read. Forehead creasing, Derek clicked the link and found himself full on glaring at the author of the article. Jennifer Blake.

"I don't think anyone will mind if I speed up just a tad," Talia mused from the driver's seat, looking out the window as though there was nothing wrong with the world and she was just a quaint little old lady out for a Sunday drive.

But Derek didn't really hear her. He was reading the article.

An ex-security guard, Matt Daehler, had sat down with Jennifer to explain his steamy past with Stiles. According to the article, the two had secretly dated behind the scenes, to keep off the front pages and protect Stiles' image when he was just starting out. According to Daehler, Stiles became too focused on his fame, causing Matt to feel abandoned, and the two parted on less than pleasant terms.

Frown burning into his face, Derek read a passage of information provided by "an anonymous crew member" about how Stiles didn't like to hold on to the same security for too long after his affair with Daehler went south. The statement itself would have pissed him off regularly, but it was worse now because that had been something Derek had told Jennifer. Of course, he'd been trying to make Hale Securities look and sound better, but obviously she'd been fishing for other things.

How much of the article was true though? Some of it did make sense – Stiles not liking to keep the same crew for too long did match up with having a major issue with one in the past. Stiles disliking the idea of his numbers would also match with a possible ex-boyfriend if Stiles had been in love at the time only to have his heart broken.

But some things didn't add up. The person Matt Daehler described when talking about Stiles didn't sound like Stiles. Too focused on his fame to give attention to other people? Stiles was always giving attention to others. He sent Scott away to hang out with Kira as often as possible because he knew Scott wanted to go. He didn't pressure Derek into conversations. No one had a cross word to say about the singer.

Derek needed to get to Stiles, because whether the article was true or fictional, someone had just emotionally attacked him, and Derek needed to see him.

His eyes drifted over to his mother, just as calm as ever as she drove, and he dropped his phone to his lap. "Thanks," he murmured over the soft sounds of old rock coming from the radio.

"Anytime," Talia said and smiled kindly at him.


Of course they didn't just show up unannounced. Derek texted Laura for the better part of the remaining four hour drive. According to his sister, they'd found out the news about an hour ahead of time because Erica had burst into the security room, eyes wide and demanding an explanation or a solution or both. Stiles hadn't been there, and they'd hoped to catch the article before it posted so he'd never have to know, but it went up regardless and Stiles found out like everyone else.

Melissa was working with Stiles' publicity manager on how to handle the public's interest in the matter and turn it into a positive light. Scott was talking to everyone on the crew personally, both to ensure they didn't blow anything out of proportion and also to remind them that talking to the press about sensitive information was against their contracts. Derek decided not to tell anyone it had accidentally been him.

But the most stressing news came about thirty minutes out. Instead of texting, Laura called, which was already a stressful sign.

"Derek, I don't know what to do," she said, frustration and worry clouding her words.

"What's happened?" he asked while Talia pretended not to be interested.

"How can you defend someone against themselves?" Laura asked. "He swears there's nothing I can do, but he won't come off the bus and he looks like he's sick and- hey!"

The phone was jostled as someone took it from Laura's hands, and Derek felt his own stomach roll over. Stress makes it worse, Scott had said. If Stiles was having an episode of his weird illness, why couldn't the Yukimura's help him?

"Derek?" it was Scott's voice that spoke in his ear next. "You're coming here?"

"Yeah. We're about half an hour out," Derek clarified. "How is he?"

"Dude, he's not well. Both Kira and her dad have stopped by, but the medicine isn't fixing it. It's just making him less awful. You have got to get here," Scott ordered.

In the background, he heard Laura say something like "Wait, Derek knows about Stiles being sick?" but he was more focused on the order.

"Why me?" he asked, though he knew the answer himself. Did Scott know?

"I don't…. The other day, Stiles said it doesn't…. it doesn't hurt when you're around," Scott said and sighed loudly. "I don't know, but if you can fix it, I need you here now."

Taking a deep breath, Derek thought back to the moment in the bathroom, when Stiles had leaned their foreheads together. He thought about the kiss on the bus and how Stiles had said, "It doesn't hurt" afterward. There was no doubt in his mind about why he was different for Stiles, but he still didn't know what kind of illness could be stifled by being around your soul mate.

"I'll be there soon," he said.


When they pulled up to set of busses, Laura and Scott were waiting for them. Parrish and Lydia were standing close together by Allison's bus, whispering quickly. To Derek's surprise, or perhaps he wasn't surprised, Allison and Isaac were standing with Kira a polite distance away from the couple, all looking equally unsure and anxious.

Crutches first, Derek climbed out of the car and hopped to get steady on his feet. Laura was there by him in a second, hand on his face.

"How's the leg?" she asked.

"Well the cast comes off in a few days and then it's just getting used to walking on it again," Derek said with a smile, but it quickly fell off his face. "Why is everyone standing around?"

"Stiles collapsed about half an hour after he read the article. They're all worried because Yukimura didn't have good news when he came off the bus," Laura explained. Her next sentence was spoken with a bit of jealousy and suspicion. "And no one seems to have known he was even sick besides you, the Yukimura's, and the McCall's."

"Don't look at me like that," Derek said. "You knew too, just no one told you it was chronic. You saw him our first day just like I did." Her face scrunched up in concern and understanding, but he ignored it. "Get everyone back to work. You have prepping to do for the concert tomorrow. Allison isn't even part of that anymore, but I'll move past asking why she's still here. I can guess. I'm sure Peter is harassing someone inside, so I need you to go take care of him and the crew."

"Derek-," Laura started to argue, but he shook his head and she quieted.

"Having everyone waiting outside is probably only making it worse. He's feeling stressed already and then everyone he cares about is stressing out, which compounds on Stiles. Get everyone moving and doing normal things. Just clear them out." He stopped, seeing her features growing upset, and added a quiet, "Please."

Melting at the word, Laura sighed and nodded. "Fine. Fine. But you're explaining everything to me later."

"I promise," Derek said, and then Laura walked away to get everyone gone.

Scott was watching him carefully during the greeting and then walked with Derek to the bus door as everyone else started moving away. He unlocked the door but then paused, turning to look at Derek.

"I'm not stupid," he said, earning a curious eyebrow raise from Derek. "I'm not. I know what this all probably means for him… for you. But just… don't get too excited, okay? He doesn't need to be let down again."

Words sounded stupid in his head, so Derek just nodded to show he understood. He didn't really, but Scott didn't need to know that. If they were soul mates, how could Stiles be let down by Derek? It made no sense.

Climbing the stairs on the bus was the hard part. It was slow going, but when he got to the top and looked over at the couch, Stiles was staring at him like he was a diamond. The curtains were drawn, but all the lights were on, making it seem like night despite the bright sun outside.

"Derek," Stiles said, breathy. He definitely sounded ill. His skin was pale, his hairline damp with sweat, and he was nearly clawing his right forearm with his left hand. Derek didn't like the uneven breathing Stiles was doing either. "What are you… doing here?"

"No one told you I was coming?" Derek asked, hopping his way over to plop down by Stiles on the couch. The singer shook his head and swallowed thickly, like he might want to throw up. Slowly, Derek reached out to touch Stiles' face. At first, Stiles leaned away, but Derek just reached out more and then Stiles pressed his lips into a fine line and leaned forward again.

Stiles felt as clammy as he looked, but the moment Derek's hand touched his skin, his eyes closed and he sucked in a short breath of shock. Although his body was shaking, Stiles' breathing evened out significantly and he leaned into Derek's touch.

"My mother drove us here as fast as she could," Derek said, his other hand reaching up to push the damp hair from Stiles' forehead.

"You drove from LA?" Stiles murmured, and his voice sounded stronger. "Because of an article?"

"Because of you," Derek corrected. "I knew you'd probably feel bad, regardless of the validity of the article, and then Scott called and told me your sickness had flared up and… I wanted to help."

Stiles chuckled, but it sounded sour, and pressed his face into Derek's hand a little harder before pulling away entirely. When he opened his eyes, he looked cold, like he had in the prep room when he'd suddenly treated Derek like a stranger.

"You shouldn't have come," he said.

"Why not? Look, you're already feeling better," Derek pointed out. Stiles' shivering had ceased.

"Because it's not a sickness, and I can't give you what you want," Stiles insisted, turning and standing up from the couch. His right hand shook slightly and he flexed his fingers until it stopped.

"What do you mean? What do you think I want?" Derek's brow knit together and he frowned deeply, angling himself to face Stiles. He just wanted to help Stiles feel better, to know if they were actually soul mates, and then date him even if he wasn't.

"Uh, duh. A soul mate," Stiles answered, as though Derek had gotten stupid since their last conversation. He knelt on a chair against the opposite wall and peeked through the curtains at what Derek hoped was now an empty parking lot. "And I'm nobody's soul mate. That's why I get sick."

Well that didn't make sense. "How can you be nobody's soul mate?" Derek stood and moved to reach for Stiles, but the singer flipped around on him, his face screwed up like he wanted to yell but was holding it in. "I was just starting to think you were mine."

"No." Stiles shook his head and sat down, so Derek sat too, only now they were across from each other. Stiles' hands were shaking again as he clumsily tried to work his wristband off. "No, and I'm gonna show you why, because I feel bad enough using you to make myself feel better. I'm not gonna let you follow me around, hoping one day we turn out to be meant for each other, when I have proof that we can't be. That's verging on cruel, and I'm not-"

Derek's hand covered Stiles on his wrist, stilling the younger man's shaking. After giving the singer an assuring nod, Derek took over the task of slipping off the wristband. Stiles reached up and undid the start of the bandage that wrapped around his forearm, but then he handed it off to Derek to finish.

"You've read the article?" he asked. Derek only nodded. "Well it's mostly true. I did date my first head of security's son – Matt Daehler. We did do it in secret, but it was mostly because his father was a dick and Matt didn't want him finding out he was bisexual, not because of my image. "

Several turns around Stiles' forearm reveal nothing but plain skin, but just before Derek could unwrap Stiles' wrist, the young man's hand reached over and stopped him. When Derek looked up at him, Stiles was staring at the floor and his knee was bouncing with nerves. He'd pressed his lips together so tight they were slightly white and he was taking deep breaths through his nose.

"You don't have to show me," Derek said despite wanting to see so badly. What about Stiles wrist could possible disqualify the feelings Derek got when he looked at Stiles, when Stiles looked at him? What could be there to tell him his hormones were invalid even though he got sick just thinking about Stiles being this upset. He wanted desperately to know or to prove Stiles wrong, but he didn't want to force it out of Stiles.

"No. No I want to show you. I just… I've never shown anyone before. The only ones who know are the Yukimuras, Scott and his mom, and my dad." Stiles let out a shaky breath and removed his hand. "Do it."

Derek hesitated a moment, in case Stiles changed his mind, but then he continued unwrapping. Something was visible after one more unwrap, but he didn't know what it was until half of Stiles' wrist was visible. Scars, thick and blotchy, covered Stiles' wrist, completely obliterating the area his numbers should have been visible on.

"Stiles-," Derek began, but found himself silenced by the continuation of the story.

"When my mom died." Stiles paused to swallow several times and shook his head, staring at his own disfigured wrist. "She always talked about how perfect the aura sphere was… and when she died I went to Matt. I needed someone to wrap me in their arms and tell me it was gonna be okay, and my dad was a wreck and I couldn't do that to him… or for him… And I thought Matt would. But when I found him, he was making out with a girl on his daddy's payroll and he told me I'd been 'fun' but that it wasn't like he was in love with me. Obviously we weren't soul mates, cause our numbers were still counting down, but he said he couldn't even look at me because I looked like shit, crying over my mom and my dad and everything. After everything… I don't know. He was ruthless, man."

Derek moved closer, kneeling on the floor, so he could cup Stiles' cheek again. Kneeling was awkward with his cast, but he wanted to be closer. Stiles looked like he might start crying right there, but he just closed his eyes until he could open them without being on the verge of tears.

"I was in kind of a dark place. When I told Melissa about Matt, she fired the company. But I was having panic attacks about my mom and about my social life and whenever I took off the wrist band, I saw those stupid numbers, and I was just scared and angry and… I went to the kitchen, got a knife, and cut them out."

The deep breath that followed the admission was amplified by the utter silence that followed it. Stiles clenched his right hand and pursed his lips before he finally got the courage to look at Derek's face. For his part, Derek didn't know what to feel. He had, at more than one point, been upset with the aura sphere, at his own numbers. He could remember how it felt to watch his mother's wrist light up again after his father's death, how confused and angry he'd been. But his mother, his family, had handled it all so well.

He tried to imagine being on the cusp of stardom and losing everyone you loved – one to death, one to alcohol, and one to heart break – and having nowhere to turn. He didn't know what his face showed, but after a long silence, Stiles took another deep breath and continued.

"See?" he said. "That's when the illness started. The aura sphere can't concentrate in me anymore, so I just get the backlash. I tore out my numbers, almost died doing it, and now I'm broken. I can't match up with anyone anymore."

"And the pills?" Derek asked, voice soft.

"Mr. Yukimura was the doctor they sent me to when I wasn't dying of blood loss anymore. His pills are experimental. They're meant to, one day, make the numbers more accurate. In me, they just balance the aura sphere's effects so I can function without pain."

"But that doesn't mean you don't have a soul mate," Derek corrected, gently feeling the scars with his fingertips. The scars were five years old, but they looked freshly healed.

"No. It means I broke the link between me and them, and now I don't have a cosmic compass to tell me if I'm wrong or not this time." Stiles pulled his hand back and bent down to pick the wrapping up from the floor where Derek had dropped it.

Before he could start rewrapping his arm, Derek gently pulled the cloth from him. "This time?" he asked. Stiles was talking about him, right? So did he feel all the strange tugs and pulls and lava that Derek felt?

"Look, Derek, I know you're not stupid. I think you're hot. I mean like really hot. And you're a great guy, and you're really good at your job, and you're a little hard to get to know but after that even your scary eyebrows aren't so scary. And I know you think I'm hot stuff or whatever, but none of that matters, cause I can't be your soul mate." Stiles frowned and held his hand out for the wrapping.

"None of that matters?" Derek asked, incredulous. He tossed the wrapping several feet away and took Stiles' hand in his own, pointing at the scars with his free hand. "Do you know what this means? It means someone hurt you. A lot of someones, actually. And you had a low point. But it doesn't mean you're broken, Stiles. And there is more to us than hate or attraction or friendliness. You're being stupid because you think I give a damn about your past, but you're wrong."

Anger. It wasn't the first time it had sprung up around Stiles, and he doubted it would be the last. Was he angry at Stiles? A little bit. Mostly he was angry at Matt Daehler, for pushing Stiles into something so dark that he thought he could never come back from it. But he was also a little angry at himself. Had he been so obviously obsessed with his soul mate that even Stiles felt the pressure of it?

Derek liked Stiles. Numbers or no numbers, that didn't change the lava in his veins, the way his lungs forgot to breathe, and the urge to keep him safe.

"I don't understand." Stiles' voice was quieter, confused, and his brow knit together, and Derek couldn't be mad at that.

Shaking his head, Derek reached up and cupped Stiles' face before lifting himself up and pressing their lips together for a short kiss. Stiles looked even more confused in the wake of it, like he couldn't understand why Derek would still want to do that, and Derek smiled up into his face.

"Soul mate or not, Stiles, I'd still like to give this a try." He covered Stiles' wrist with his right hand and felt a familiar shock roll through him. Stiles' face twitched slightly, confirming what Derek suspected. "You feel it too. I know you do, or this wouldn't bother you as much as it does. You want to be my soul mate."

After a short noise of surprise, Stiles nodded. "I do want to be your soul mate," he admitted. "I mean… I've wanted to be your soul mate since you carried me down the hallway to Kira. You made it hurt less then too. But then you were such an ass, and so was I, and the way your sister reacted to that girl in the hallway and wow. That's pretty intimidating."

"Stiles," Derek scolded to stop the rant. At least the singer had to ability to look guilty. "Let's be soul mates."

"Okay," Stiles said.

Derek laughed. "That easy?"

"That easy. I'm an easy guy…. Sometimes." And now there was a smile on Stiles' face, and it lifted Derek's soul.

Securing his grip on Stiles' hand, Derek lifted Stiles' wrist like an item on display and then held his wrist up beside it. Stiles laughed at the showmanship and wiggled his fingers. "Be serious, Stiles. This is a very, very serious moment," Derek ordered, but he was smiling too which only made his tease that much more effective and Stiles started to laugh all over again.

Shaking his head in mock disappointment, Derek gently placed their wrists together. Expecting nothing to happen, he was shocked when the contact made his wrist feel like it was vibrating. Stiles' laughter shorted out as he choked on a gasp and stared in stunned fear at where their skin touched.

A bright glow emanated from Derek's previously dimmed numbers, but it was nothing compared to the increasing shine drawing attention to all of Stiles' scars. Derek's wrist felt hot, like the lava from his veins was starting to simmer, but he didn't pull away until it felt like he was pressing his wrist onto a stove top.

With a hiss, he ripped his wrist from Stiles' and checked it to make sure he wasn't actually burned. His numbers had blurred, but his skin was unmarred. Looking quickly up at Stiles, he saw the singer's face contorted in pain, and looking down at his wrist revealed his fist was balled up tight, but he made no real noise of discomfort. His eyes were squinting down at the massive light under his skin and Derek couldn't help but be drawn back to the sight as well.

The scars were a brilliant pale green, and then they weren't. At first, Derek thought the light was disappearing, but after a minute he realized the truly spectacular truth. The scars were disappearing. As the light retreated, the marring of Stiles' skin went with it until his wrist was as fresh and healed as a child's. In the place of the scars were two, bright, glowing zeroes that matched the ones on Derek's wrist.

Still feeling like his whole arm was set to vibrate, Derek brought their wrists to rest beside each other, and the two watched in mutual awe as the zeroes flared with light before ebbing away, absorbed into their skin.

When the bus had returned to its previous lighting, both men stayed quiet for several heartbeats. Derek slowly dropped Stiles' hand to touch his own wrist, and he watched Stiles do the same to his own. So they were really soul mates, then. Everything Derek had expected was true. After all the headaches and confusion and mood swings caused by his numbers, Stiles was actually his soul mate.

Looking up at Stiles, and still in shock, he murmured, "See? You're not broken."

Stiles jerked his head up, looking away from his miraculously healed wrist and into Derek's eyes. He took a deep, shaking breath, and then he grabbed Derek and kissed him fiercely. "We're soul mates," he said, voice barely loud enough to hear, and then he let out a tiny giggle. Then another. Then he dropped onto the floor with Derek and hugged him tightly, his face in Derek's shoulder, as he got caught between laughing and dry sobbing.

Derek held him close and rubbed his back, feeling fuller than he could ever remember feeling before. For these few moments, there was no one trying to hurt Stiles, no one trying to sabotage a tour or a company, no concert to prep for. It was just Derek and Stiles in a dark bus with blank wrists. For one of them, it was a miracle beyond miracles, and for the other it was the same miracle everyone was promised at birth. Derek raised his wrist up to look at where his numbers had been. Blank, tan skin.

"I'm not sure anyone's actually going to be surprised," Derek murmured, thinking back on conversations with Scott and Laura and even Melissa.

Now Stiles was definitely just laughing.


Preview Chapter 12:

Life promises to be good, blank wrist and all, and Derek is so relaxed that he doesn't even consider danger possible. He and Stiles are happy, and that's such a big thing for both of them, but especially for Stiles. So when Jordan reports with evidence that Kate Argent is rearing her ugly head again, Derek doesn't want Stiles to know. This one they'll handle quietly, and hopefully before the stage can burst into flames.