Important Authors Note: I just wanted to say that I am sorry for such a long time between the last update and now. I got the news that my fathers cancer came back just before Christmas, and honestly I just haven't been able to bring myself to write since then. I'm in the mood to now, though. I hope that you can understand that I can't put myself on any deadlines - but one thing I do promise to any of you still reading: I will never give up on this story. Even if it may take me a while to update, I hope that you will still enjoy reading it.

Thank you.

Chapter title: Comes from the song "Dead come to life" by Jonathan Thulin. The video I recommend with it is one having to do with a few animes - put together by AngelicSerenadeMEPs. It's a really great video, if you have the time you should really watch it.

Previously:

Derek looked impressed, "I missed a lot, huh?"

Stiles shrugged, "Beacon Hills. Trouble never seems to stop."

And almost as if to prove Stiles' point, Derek reached up quickly and made a thin cut on his neck.

Then Stiles only knew red.

Chapter Fourteen: Light is in Your Eyes

It was around seven in the evening when Stiles and Derek left the house. Stiles ordered take out from his favorite diner, and his plan was to take some to the station for his dad and then head back home for him and Derek to eat.

However, once they got to the station, his dad asked them stay and join him for the meal. Derek agreed before Stiles had even opened his mouth to give an excuse.

Yes, Stiles would normally love to spend the evening at the station, eating with his dad in his office. Get into all the details about the cases his dad was working on – but he had an extremely hard time hiding anything from his dad. Especially lately. Especially after Donovan. He didn't want to hide what happened to him… but he also really didn't want to disappoint his dad. Not again.

He was verily certain that him needing to live off of blood for the rest of his life would be at the top of the "major disappointments" list.

However, Stiles took a seat after helping his dad clear his desk off. It really had been a while since they were able to sit down and eat together, and no matter how anxious it made him, he couldn't deny that he wanted to spend more time with his dad.

"How was school today?"

Of course that would be the first question his dad asked, and Stiles inwardly groaned. "Well… uh, you see," Stiles tried hard to come up with an excuse, but his dad sighed, exasperated, before he could think of good one.

"I'm gonna have to learn how to ground you." He mumbled in response.

Stiles cracked a small smile, "Sorry?" He said with a small lift of his shoulder.

His dad rolled his eyes, but still looked serious, "Nothing's happening, right? I mean, since Derek," He gestured at the man sitting beside Stiles, "is back, and you acting… well, you, but you don't generally miss school unless something happened." The sheriff sat back in his seat and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes between the two of them.

"Dad, I…" Stiles swallowed, not able to lie, yet still not able to tell the truth, "I'll tell you later, okay? I mean, it's nothing life threatening or anything, just the usual odd occurrence." Stiles needing to drink blood certainly counted as odd, after all. And so long as Derek continued to fight him off, it would continue to be non-life threatening.

His dad frowned, but accepted the answer with a sigh, "As long as you're being safe."

"Always," He said, grinning. "Now come on, dig in. I got your favorite!"

At that, his dad certainly perked up, until he opened his container and his face fell as he groaned, "This isn't an extra-large slice of pizza with a side of cheeseburger."

Stiles laughed, "Oh, cheer up, I got cheesecake, too."

And with renewed vigor, his dad popped a piece of broccoli in his mouth, probably knowing Stiles wouldn't let him have the cake until after he'd finished everything else. Stiles did know he went overboard with the health of his dad sometimes, but he couldn't help wanting him to be around for a long, long time.

With conversation passing all around, they surprisingly ended up enjoying a pretty good meal. Derek told them some about his travels, and the Stilinski's also shared about the small vacations they'd gone on together. Stiles was glad, after all the stress that happened between them all in the past, it was good to know they could all get along pretty well when handcuffs, law, and super-naturals weren't in the way.

That was until dessert rolled around and his dad reminded him of something he'd rather have forgotten about completely.

"Remember, we have to go to the hospital and get those stitches out tomorrow."

Stiles swallowed, setting down his cake and suddenly feeling a bit sick. He'd have to take off his shirt. They'd see all the bruises. The gash on his neck. He didn't have answers for any of that yet. "Was that really tomorrow?" He asked, feigning ignorance.

"Yeah, we need to be there around nine in the morning." His dad replied around a mouthful of cake.

"Oh, well," Stiles said, "I kinda forgot, and made plans with Scott and everyone… I could always get Melissa to do it while I'm there?" He asked.

The sheriff raised an eyebrow, "She'll be at work. She was going to be the one to remove them anyhow, since she's the one who put them in."

"Ah," Stiles said, and glanced at Derek, who was already looking at him. The only help he received was a shrug, and Stiles inwardly groaned. "Okay, I'll go, but really, dad, you don't need to come with me. Don't you have work?"

"Well, yeah. But they won't miss me for an hour." He said with a shrug and took another bite.

"Dad, c'mon, the station needs you. Look at all this paperwork you've got!" He gestured to the stack he'd just moved from the desk to the floor beside it, "I'll be fine going alone."

"I'll go with him if you want someone else there." Derek offered when the sheriff looked unsure even after Stiles' response.

The sheriff sighed, "Alright, alright. Just let me know how it goes, okay?"

They nodded, and shortly after Derek and his dad finished their dessert. Of course the sheriff helped himself to the rest of Stiles' piece as well, but Stiles couldn't find it in him to oppose it.

Then he and Derek headed out, Stiles giving his dad a hug on the way out of the office, with a quick "Be safe,".

It was completely dark outside now, and on the drive back, Stiles asked quietly, "What am I supposed to say about all my other wounds?"

Derek leaned back in his seat a bit and replied, "Scott's mom knows about everything, maybe you should tell her the truth."

"So does my dad, and I don't even know how I'd begin to tell him. Scott's mom…" He sighed softly, "she's like a second mother to me. It's almost as hard thinking about telling her."

"Stiles, you need to realize that not one person you've told so far has reacted badly. No one is going to turn against you. You really don't have any reason to be afraid." Derek said softly, glancing at him quickly before turning his eyes back to the road.

"I know you're right," Stiles said with a sigh, leaning his head against his window, "But it feels different. If I told everyone I'd become a werewolf or something, it might have been easier. We at least know what to expect in that case. But… but I'm unpredictable. I'm afraid I won't be able to find a way to control it."

"Do you want to?" Derek asked, and Stiles could hear how tense he was, and looked at him with a frown.

"What's that supposed to mean? Of course I want to!" He snapped defensively after seeing how serious Derek was in his accusation.

Derek shrugged, "I get that you can't control yourself when you first smell my blood, that's fine, I don't expect you to be able to resist for a long time." Stiles swallowed thickly, wondering how long exactly Derek thought they would have to do this? Then Derek continued, "But afterwards, when you're back to yourself… you don't even try to resist licking your fingers and lips clean."

Stiles tensed, and he realized Derek was completely right. He always had a clear head when he did that. "I-" He hesitated. There was no excuse. Why did he do it? Just because it tasted good? He gulped, "I want control." He said, voice wavering slightly from his revelation.

"Are you sure?" Derek asked, voice still on edge but becoming softer.

"Of course!" Stiles answered quickly and defensively, "I just… I don't know, I can't explain it. It's so impossible to explain how good it tastes." He saw Derek's eyebrow lift and he continued, "What I told the others earlier didn't even half way describe how it really is, I don't think there are even words in the dictionary that would do that. It's like eating chocolate, you know? You like your fingers clean afterwards, because washing it off instead is such a... I dunno, a waste. It was like a reflex, I just did it. But - I can stop. I won't do it again, I promise." He insisted earnestly.

Derek sighed, "I can't imagine what it's like, Stiles. But I just don't think you doing it will help you get control of your desires." They pulled into Stiles' driveway, Derek parking beside his jeep.

"I'll stop. I want to. I hate that I love something that belongs to someone else…" Stiles ended softly, getting out of the car.

"Stiles, I'm not telling you that it's wrong." Derek said, following him to the front door. "It's your life now, and that isn't wrong." Stiles was about to protest, when Derek quickly continued before he could, "It's not. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe exposing you to it won't give you control, but I still think it's a good idea. I hope that it'll get you to accept what you've become."

"I have accepted." Stiles said in a huff, unlocking the front door. Hard not to accept something when every waking moment there's a reminder of it.

"Then maybe it'll help you see that you haven't changed that much. You're still Stiles."

"Yeah, a constantly thirsty Stiles who wants nothing more, even right now, then to tear into my friends' neck and drink their blood." He said bitterly, tossing his keys onto the entry table.

"Can you humor me for a minute?" Derek asked suddenly, and Stiles paused, having walked to the foot of the stairs. He turned back to look at Derek, who hadn't moved after closing the door behind them.

Stiles replied only slightly warily, "I guess."

Derek walked toward him slowly, stopping when there was just a foot of room between them. "I'm going to hold you against the wall, is that alright?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Stiles swallowed and nodded his head. He felt a small shiver of fear run up his spine when Derek did take his shoulders and push him against the wall, gently, then placed a forearm over his chest firmly so he couldn't move.

He shouldn't have felt that fear. It was Derek.

After what happened the last couple days, what the other had done for him, he shouldn't associate the two together. But he did. It helped at least that he could see it was in fact Derek who was pinning him, and not anyone else. He did feel security in that, and refused to let his fear take over all of his senses, no matter how tense his body had become.

"It's okay," Derek whispered, reaching a hand up to his own mouth.

Stiles followed the movement, and his eyes widened when Derek opened his mouth, revealing sharpened teeth, and bit the tip of a finger. Vision turning red, and other senses fading, he immediately struggled against the hold, but Derek was strong, and must've been expecting the resistance, because Stiles couldn't move closer at all.

"It's okay," Derek said once more, holding his finger up beside his face, Stiles' eyes focused entirely on it. "Stiles, look at me."

To Stiles there was only a slight murmuring though, his vision only seeing the drop slowly sliding down the appendage, his hearing only focused on his sound of that liquid slipping from the vein and out onto skin.

"Stiles," - And there was another murmur, slowly turning into a sort of buzz. His mind darted to it for a second before he bucked his hips, trying to free himself and get to the blood that seemed to radiate just out of his reach.

Then a breeze hit his face, and another scent reached his nose, no where near as sweet, but something sugar filled. His eyes flicked toward where the breeze came from.

"-k at me, Stiles,"

Blinking quickly, the voice registered, and it felt like the hardest Stiles ever had to try, but he was able to slowly, millimeter by millimeter, look away from the mouth in front of me - the source of his 'breeze' and into Derek's eyes. His vision was still hued in red, but he saw the now-bright blue eyes staring back at him steadily.

"See?" Derek asked softly, "It's all okay, Stiles."

As he spoke, Stiles' struggles ceased. It took another few moments before he realized he was hyperventilating and he slowed his breathing a little. The bright red faded, but a slight red hue remained in his vision.

"I wanted to see if you could find control, without pain being involved." Derek explained, blue eyes fading.

Stiles licked his lips, but it didn't do anything. His mouth and throat felt like a desert. "I'm not sure it worked." He said hoarsely and closed his eyes, breaking the eye contact. He immediately swung them open and continued it though, because his sense of smell increased tenfold as soon as he did. His vision swam with bright red for a moment before continuing with the soft tone a moment later.

"Your senses really are different from ours." Derek observed, and Stiles was grateful the other seemed to realize he needed the eye contact even without him saying so.

Wanting the slight distraction, Stiles replied with a breathy voice, "If I focus on one, it becomes stronger. Otherwise I don't think it's changed from before that night." He swallowed, "I still smell the blood, but I'm concentrating on seeing, so it helps."

Derek hummed, "That's interesting. I can try and focus on just one, but the others are still there, makes it hard to dedicate all my attention to particular things sometimes. Like talking or listening, while at the same time trying to recall where I'd smelled that persons particular shampoo before."

Stiles let out a shaky laugh, "Must be distracting if they haven't showered in a while." He was still breathing pretty heavily, but his mind wasn't very foggy anymore. He continued staring into Derek's eyes though, not wanting to see the appendage still hovering beside his head any clearer then the vague shape in the corner of his eye.

"Just a bit," Derek said with a half-smile. "I've had a lot of practice though, so it's usually easy to ignore." He loosened his grip on Stiles' chest, and immediately panicked, Stiles brought his hand up and took a hold Derek's wrist, pushing it back against him firmly.

"Not yet," Stiles panted, not trusting himself, "Just another minute."

Derek nodded, increasing the pressure once more. "You're doing great." He reassured, "But we can stay here all night if you need to."

Stiles would've rolled his eyes, but he didn't see a hint of sarcasm in Derek's eyes. He was telling Stiles the truth. Swallowing, Stiles gave him a small nod, "I don't think that'll be necessary, but thank you," He said earnestly in his breathy voice.

"I'm almost tempted to see if you'd be able to resist if you looked at it." He said, and Stiles tensed, holding his breath. He didn't think he would. Derek quickly continued, "I think we're done with testing for tonight, one day we'll try it."

Nodding, Stiles let out his breath, relieved. "One day." He repeated, tightening his grip on Derek's wrist.

"This doesn't hurt?" Derek asked, and Stiles gave an almost inconspicuous shake of his head. "I smelled your fear, but since you didn't complain, I continued." He whispered, "I'm sorry."

Stiles still found the idea that Derek Hale, of all people, apologizing to him was odd. He replied in just as soft of a whisper, "I think, if you pinned me with my back to you, I would've panicked more. This way is okay, though, just... was shocking."

Derek nodded, and his now-green eyes easily reflected the remorse he must've felt. "I'm sorry, about what I said in the diner. I was out of line."

"You apologizing really needs to stop," Stiles said with a soft sigh, "I made you angry, it's what I do. Honestly, what you said didn't affect me that much in any case."

"It shouldn't be." Derek said, and Stiles lifted an eyebrow in question, "You shouldn't get on my nerves so easily."

"Believe it or not, a lot of people have said that to me." Stiles said, not entirely joking. He got on a lot of peoples' nerves.

"I just thought I changed more." Derek muttered.

Stiles' eyebrows pulled together and his hand tightened his hold on Derek's wrist further, "You have, actually. Not so much sour in your wolf." He said, and Derek's lips twitched. "It's okay to get aggravated, Derek. It's okay to say what you did in the diner when you are, too. I've been known to do the same at times. Everyone does."

"Why is it you're fine comforting others but don't allow the same to be done for yourself?" Derek asked softly, and Stiles eyes widened. He felt the desire to look away but was afraid of where his eyes would go to.

"I…" He swallowed, "I let you last night, didn't I?" He evaded.

"Helping you deal with a nightmare is different than helping you get past what happened." Derek said, and from the way he tensed Stiles knew exactly what he was expecting. A blow-up from him like in the diner. He felt guilt inch its way into him.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to get past it." He said softly. "Every time I close my eyes for more than a second, I see him. I just…" Stiles swallowed, and he blinked a few times quickly, not wanting to break the eye contact between them for long but needing a relief from the intensity of Derek's gaze. "It's too soon… I can't talk about it yet. Or ever."

Derek nodded, "I understand." He said softly, "I shouldn't try to force it out of you before you're ready."

Stiles' vision cleared, and he knew his eyes would've turned from the deep black into his normal brown-surrounded irises. "Do you intend to stay? Just... you know, so I know, in case I do ever want to talk about it" He asked softly. He couldn't give an explanation why- why he'd tell Derek over Scott, or Lydia, or Malia, or even his dad. Perhaps it was because he was the first one Stiles talked to after it happened. Maybe he only felt that way because Derek was here, right in front of him. Maybe he'd even feel differently in the future. But right now, he couldn't imagine being able to tell anyone else besides Derek.

Derek's eyebrows pulled together, possibly wondering the same thing Stiles was, but he gave a soft answer, "Of course I will."

Stiles felt his lips twitch, but he couldn't smile just yet, so he nodded, and released a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding since the question was put between them. He held on tighter to Derek's wrist, but he didn't have to force himself to say the next words, "The waiter at the diner… what he said that affected me so much," Stiles swallowed, and in the moment he paused because he saw Derek part his lips, possibly to tell him he didn't have to say, possibly just shocked he was saying anything, but Stiles continued before he could second guess himself, "He said he liked rough sex. And that when he felt the pain, or discomfort, or whatever the hell it's supposed to be, it would be like they never parted. He seemed envious that I was feeling that way."

Stiles felt Derek tense against him, and suddenly he wasn't pinned to the wall anymore, Derek grabbed his shirt and pulled him against his chest, wrapping his arms around him. With the eye contact broken, he could smell the now-dried blood on Derek's finger now against his back, but the shock of what just happened distracted him from it.

"Sorry," Derek whispered against his ear, at the perfect height since he was only a couple inches taller than Stiles. "I wish you didn't have to go through this. I wish I could make it stop."

Swallowing past a quickly forming lump in his throat, Stiles hesitantly moved to wrap his arms around Derek's mid-section, returning the embrace. It was very different from the hugs he'd had with Scott. If he had to compare it to anyone, it was almost as if he was hugging Lydia. But even that comparison just didn't sit right with him, since all the times Lydia hugged him or vice-versa, it was to give her comfort, even earlier when she was attempting to comfort him, he felt the hug had the affect more on her over him. Pushing the thought away entirely, Stiles leaned his head down, resting his forehead in the crook of the others shoulder. "I said stop apologizing." He mumbled almost inaudibly.

Derek didn't reply, just held him a bit tighter.

"I could bite you," Stiles said, trying to distract himself from the moisture gathering in his eyes, hating that in the quiet he heard the waiters voice once more.

"If it'll help you, do it." Derek replied softly, moving his head to the side to expose his neck further.

Stiles tensed, able to see the veins from where he rested. He longed to open his mouth and go through with it, but he pushed the thought away. He wanted it, he really did, and he knew Derek wouldn't be upset if he did, probably wouldn't push him away after either. But he resisted. He didn't want to ruin the comfort he was currently receiving.

He relaxed completely, for what was the first time true time since the attack, and felt the first tear slid quickly down his cheek, watching it get absorbed into the others tee shirt. He closed his eyes and shifted closer, letting the tip of his nose rest against Derek's pulse-point - feeling warmth from the rushing sensation rather than hunger. He held onto Derek tightly, and Derek shifted him to support more of his weight; he was sure that Derek must be able to sense how much he needed it.

Deciding to let the embarrassment of his moment hit him after he finished, he cried. Soft, silent tears.

Derek said nothing, just silently began moving a hand up and down his back, while the other rested on the back of his neck.

Stiles wasn't sure when the last time he felt this comfortable was.

To be continued.

Authors Note: Thank you so much for reading. I'm looking forward to your thoughts on this chapter.

Take care,
Nucleus