Preface
Awake, My SoulPosted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/1893162.
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:
M/M
Fandom:
Teen Wolf (TV)
Relationship:
Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Character:
Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Talia Hale, Sheriff Stilinski
Additional Tags:
Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soul Bond, Angst, Pining, Miscommunication, Dreamwalking, Happy Ending, First Kiss, Soulmates, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Stats:
Published: 2014-07-04 Words: 5811
Awake, My Soul
by amazingpages
Summary
The story goes that when you find your soulmate, before the bond is sealed, your mate's first love appears to you in a dream and gives you their blessing. Stiles always thought it was a bit far-fetched, to be honest. Sure, he's aware of the supernatural in the world, that some of the weird things that go bump in the night actually exist. But soulmate dreams?
Might as well go searching for the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, as far as Stiles is concerned.
Notes
What I intended as a fluffy little drabble turned into an entire fic of angst. But I love angst. So I guess it all worked out in the end?
I wrote that as a question, but it does. It works out.
So, this is my take on the ever-lovely soulmate trope. Enjoy the happy ending. :)
See the end of the work for more notes
Awake, My Soul
Stiles has always had a hard time believing that the stories are true, but the first time Talia Hale appears in his dreams he knows it can't be anything else. The story goes that when you find your soulmate, before the bond is sealed, your mate's first love appears to you in a dream and gives you their blessing. Stiles always thought it was a bit far-fetched, to be honest. Sure, he's aware of the supernatural in the world, that some of the weird things that go bump in the night actually exist. But soulmate dreams? Might as well go searching for the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, as far as Stiles is concerned.
He actually doesn't realize what the dream really is at first. It isn't exactly like what the stories say. First of all, it's Talia Hale. Derek's mother. He knows what Talia looks like, vaguely; Stiles had found a picture of the Hale family once, in the burned out husk of their house—the photograph had been seared at the edges and faded from smoke, but the alpha in the center was too striking to mistake for anyone else. And once Stiles realizes who he's seeing, his stomach drops. Because here is Derek's mother, someone Derek will never see again. Not only that, but if Stiles had been forced to guess who he might see in a dream like this, Talia would not have been his first choice. It breaks his heart to realize that not only did Kate take away Derek's family, but she also tainted the first true love of Derek's life: the young boy's mother.
"So, you and my son are mates," Talia says, eyes assessing. "Your mother would be happy."
Another thing people never mention? That you can't talk back in these dreams. There are so many things Stiles would say to Talia if he could, that he would ask her. You know my mother? and I'm sorry I'll never meet you in person and Derek loves you so very much. Stiles likes to imagine that Talia can see all of these unspoken words in his eyes, but he'll never truly know. Although, he supposes, him talking is not really the point of these dreams, is it?
And dreams they are. There are more than one, and even in the stories nobody had ever mentioned a series of them. But that's exactly what they become.
Sometimes Talia does answer his unspoken questions. It's almost scary how on point she is, when she speaks what weighs so heavily on his mind. Other times she simply explains things, as though she knows that Stiles never really bought into the soulmate stories.
"Some people think the dreams don't serve much purpose. Don't be embarrassed," Talia adds, "I can tell you are a skeptic. But better to question the truth in something than to not question anything at all. You are a smart boy Stiles, and your wit serves you well."
Talia leans closer.
"You of all people should know that love comes in many forms. One's first love does not necessitate a bond of the soul. It can be the love of family, as Derek's was. The love of friendship, even. But neither of those apply to you, do they? Many take too long to realize that their love is a treasure to be guarded, and they spend it on someone who does not give their own love in return."
Stiles knows she's speaking of Lydia, and he suddenly wonders how that could work. Lydia is alive, for one, and he doesn't know how he feels about her possibly dream walking through Derek's mind.
"Do not fret, Stiles. Forces much larger than you control the bonding of souls," Talia explains. "You have been told that first loves are to give their blessings to the mate, but that is not exactly true. I am here to return the love that was given away by Derek so long ago. To complete your bond, love must be given wholeheartedly, and that cannot occur if a piece of one's heart still lies with another."
Stiles doesn't mention anything to Derek after his first few nights dreaming of Talia. He doesn't know how to bring it up without upsetting Derek. He also doesn't think that Derek has acknowledged to himself that they are mates yet, or that he's having any similar dreams. It's painful, trying to act every day like nothing has changed, when his entire life is tipped on its axis.
The following nights are harder.
"My son always did love fiercely," Talia mentions one night. "He didn't have the strongest will of my children, but he had the biggest heart." They're sitting in what Stiles can only term as limbo; the space around them is empty, a void, and nothing seems to exist but the two of them. It freaked Stiles out the first time. He is so used to his dreams being strange, subconscious representations of the world he knows, that the emptiness is somewhat chilling. But Talia centers him in a way that he can't describe; the fact that Derek left a little piece of himself with his mother, his first love, draws Stiles to her in his dreams like a moth to a flame.
Two weeks after his dreams begin, Stiles finally gets the nerve to ask his father about his own soulmate dreams. Stiles never bothered before, partly because talking about his mom hurts, and also because he hadn't really believed the dreams to be real in the first place.
His father is shocked when Stiles tells him, his first reaction being that Stiles is too young to be preparing for a soulmate bond. But once the initial surprise wears off, there's only fondness left behind.
"Your mother was young, too, when I first found her," his father admits. "I guess you're more like her than I realize sometimes."
The mention of his mother doesn't hurt as much as it once did, and Stiles is all too happy to listen as his father tells him of the dream he had with Claudia's childhood friend, Liam. The story makes him smile, and even now Stiles can see the joy on his father's face as he relives the dream himself. Afterwards, he asks Stiles who his soulmate is, but Stiles hesitates. It doesn't feel right to reveal Derek to his father when Derek doesn't even know yet himself. Stiles says as much, and his father looks disappointed but seems to understand.
It doesn't lessen the ache in Stiles' chest.
That night's dream is the worst by far. Talia doesn't say a word. The concept of time in dreams is a strange thing, but somehow Stiles can tell that hours have passed away in silence. She watches him with a scrutiny he's never felt before, and the intensity of her gaze unnerves him.
"These dreams are not meant to persist for as long as they have," she finally says. It's the first time Stiles has seen her less than confident. "Derek's love has been returned to you, yet you still hold back?"
Stiles can't answer, and for once he's truly glad that he can only stay silent. What exactly could he say? It's hard enough to admit to himself that Derek won't recognize their bond. Every day he sees Derek it becomes a little harder to pretend that things are the same as they used to be. Stiles doesn't know if he would be able to say any of this aloud, especially to Talia.
Saying it might make it permanent.
Stiles doesn't recognize it, but the weight of his secrets are wearing him down. Scott is actually the one who notices it first. They're at the preserve waiting for the rest of the pack to arrive when he brings it up.
"Dude, you don't look so hot."
Stiles hasn't really been sleeping well. He's either awake and thinking of Derek, trying to resist the pull the man has on him, or asleep and faced with Talia. She's stopped speaking to him entirely now. Not out of spite or anger, but because there is nothing left for her to say. The purpose of her presence has long since passed, but Stiles can't change the course he's set upon. He refuses to force Derek into love, whether they are soulmates or not. He won't be the one to put Derek through that again.
"Yeah, it's just…" Stiles waves his hand to indicate a myriad of things, but Scott isn't buying it.
"Did you and Derek have another fight?" Scott asks. "You've kinda been avoiding him lately."
Stiles hates that Scott can read him so well, but they haven't been best friends for nothing. Scott can read him, and he knows lying won't cut it. Stiles knows Scott will understand at least a little, because his soulmate dream for Allison began before hers did. But their happily ever after came upon them fast, and that grates on Stiles now more than ever.
He remembers laughing when Scott first told him about his dream. Sure, he knew Scott wouldn't lie about something like that. But, as Talia has said, Stiles is a skeptic. He might trust his friend, but Scott is an idealist; he believes in a lot of things that Stiles doesn't. Stiles believes now, but he's not sure if his belief has come too late.
"I've been dreaming," Stiles admits quietly. It's the first time he's said it aloud since he mentioned it to his dad. That was over a month ago. Everything seems different now.
Scott seems to get the implications of the dreams without Stiles having to say it, which is a blessing. Stiles already feels on the verge of tears, his emotions stretched in all different directions. He doesn't know how much longer he can keep this up without walking away from it altogether. It's heart-wrenching to even think of leaving Derek behind, but he can't see another option that doesn't involve forcing Derek into something he isn't ready for.
His soul aches.
Practice that day is a lesson in torture. Stiles never knew he could feel so strongly before all of this soulmate stuff had begun. His longtime love for Lydia doesn't even come close to this. It had all started with what Stiles thought was a mild crush on Derek, and somehow it blossomed into this intense attachment. Stiles can feel the bond between them, the emptiness in his chest where it remains incomplete.
Scott is right about one thing: he's been avoiding Derek. Stiles thought that putting some space between them might lessen the longing he feels. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Only this isn't just in his head. His entire being feels drawn to Derek, and fighting the pull is tearing him apart, but being close to Derek is worse.
Sometimes he thinks he sees a flicker of awareness in Derek's eyes when they spar, like the contact of their skin has meaning beyond their training. But it's always gone the next instant, shuttered behind the walls Derek keeps around himself. It kills Stiles that Derek doesn't keep those walls up just to hide from the outside world, but to hide from himself as well.
That night, Stiles' dream is more of a nightmare.
He and Talia have been in a stalemate of sorts for the past couple of months. She knows he cannot answer her questions, so she long ago stopped asking things of him that he just couldn't give. Their silence isn't ever happy, exactly, but it's content. It's the closest to peace Stiles ever gets, really, because if he can't have all of Derek's heart, at least he has a piece of it in his dreams. But that night, Talia is not silent.
"Don't you dare," she says, her face contorted in an anger Stiles didn't even know she had within her. He's faced down alphas before, Derek notwithstanding, but love is a powerful source of rage, and Talia's love for her son is fierce.
"I will not allow you to walk away from this. You will not deprive my son of his mate."
Stiles listens silently, not meeting Talia's eyes. He can't deny the truth of her words, but he also can't explain how much pain Derek's subconscious rejection brings him. Derek may not know the true happiness that comes with the bond, but he doesn't have any reason to miss it. Derek's spent so long not letting himself feel anything that he shuts down any possibility of affection.
Maybe Derek isn't going to come to terms with his emotions, but he has come to terms with his guilt over the years. And his self-worth is worth more to Stiles than anything. Now, more than ever. Stiles never thought he could love someone more than himself, but he's found that sort of love here in this bond, despite how unreciprocated it may be. With Lydia, it was all about his feelings. But with his mate? Derek will always be more important than his own feelings. If Derek is content to remain ignorant, then Stiles will not be the one to upset that balance.
When Talia has exhausted her words, Stiles looks up. They've always kept a distance between them up to now, but Stiles suddenly feels the need to say goodbye somehow. He stands, his legs steady despite how long he's sat in one position, and walks over to Talia. She looks at him, her eyes searching for something in his face, before pulling him closer and wrapping her arms around him.
"Don't give up on him," she whispers into his ear. Stiles can feel her tears on his neck and they feel more real to him than any dream prior.
When Stiles wakes up, he knows that his dreams with Talia are done. He can feel the absence of her now, as though her presence somehow remained with him throughout the day and is no longer there. He stays home from school that day, curled up alone in his bed as his mind turns endlessly. He's not sure where to go from here, but he knows that staying isn't an option. The longer he stays, the more likely he is to say something to Derek that he can't take back.
Graduation isn't far away, and then he'll find a college somewhere far away. Somewhere he can be sure he won't ruin anything. He'll have the entire summer to get settled into a new city.
The last few weeks of school are agonizing. Stiles stops going to pack meetings and he no longer practices with any of them. Cutting everything off at once hurts, but he thinks it would hurt more to drag it all out. He still hangs out with Scott, but their fun is tainted by what is left unsaid. Stiles tells him, a few days before graduation, that he's leaving. Scott doesn't take it well.
"Dude, you can't just walk away!"
"I have to," Stiles sighs. He is so tired. He's tired of fighting himself and his feelings. He doesn't have the energy to fight Scott, too.
Scott's anger surprises him.
"Have you ever once stopped to think that maybe Derek is holding back because you are holding back?"
"Come off it, Scott."
"Dude, the bond doesn't disappear just because you do," Scott says, forcing Stiles to meet his eyes. "Just because Derek won't admit to it doesn't mean he isn't feeling the same pain you are. He just doesn't know what the real cause is. You think leaving is going to make it better? Are you trying to hurt him?"
"Fuck you!" Stiles says, wrenching away. "You know I'd never hurt him."
"Then what the hell are you doing?" Scott gets up off the couch and walks over to the front door. "You might think you're doing him a favor, Stiles, but you're not. Just go to him. At least give him a choice."
Stiles sits there for a long time after Scott leaves.
The next few days are filled with preparations, both for graduation and his imminent departure. Stiles isn't sure yet where he'll go, but heading east gives him a wide range of options. He's got some money saved up from his summers working at the station and the long drive will give him time to think. He ignores the painful stutter of his heart every time he glances at his suitcase by the door. Despite their argument a few days prior, Scott still clutches him tightly before he goes. Stiles doesn't know how to explain to Scott how he's feeling, but he knows Scott isn't mad at him, not really. It's still hard.
He decided awhile ago that he wasn't going to make the first move with Derek. It wouldn't be fair to take that choice away from Derek again. But leaving Derek entirely is the hardest thing he's ever done. Stiles is confused and heartbroken, but he doesn't know what else to do. To be honest, nothing feels right anymore and he can't help but hope that some time away might help to clear his head. It doesn't keep him from stopping at the preserve on his way out of town though. He knows Derek will be there, it's where he spends the majority of his time. Stiles just has to see him one more time. Maybe all of this is a mistake and Derek really has been dreaming this whole time, too.
"You haven't said why you're leaving," Derek says when Stiles tells him. He looks hurt, but he doesn't tell Stiles not to go.
"Look, man, I don't…" Stiles scrubs a frustrated hand through his hair. His fingers are itching to just reach out and pull Derek close. "I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."
"Goodbye seems really final."
"Maybe. Maybe not. Forever is a long time to plan for."
Derek's brows draw together. "My mother used to say that."
"Yeah, well—" Stiles stutters. Coming here was a bad idea; he was bound to slip up somewhere. He should've just left right after graduation, but he couldn't leave without seeing Derek. "You're the best of us, Derek. I hope you know that."
He walks off before he can do something stupid like spill everything at Derek's feet, and every step is like ripping away a little piece of his soul.
Two months later, Stiles' heart still jumps whenever someone knocks on his apartment door. Only this time he can't really blame it. He knows it's Derek outside without even having to look, the sudden proximity after so much time apart leaving him breathless.
"Everything is wrong now that you're gone," Derek says as soon as Stiles opens the door. "I don't know what I did to you, but you left and Scott won't talk to me and everything is falling apart. I don't know what to do. You have to come back, Stiles. I'll fix whatever it is, I swear."
"Some things can't be fixed, Derek." Stiles wants to cry. He's learned over the past couple of months not to dream about things that aren't real, but that clearly didn't stop him from hoping. He'd opened the door thinking he'd see his own feelings reflected in Derek's eyes, but all he sees is confusion and a little bit of despair. He's not crazy enough to believe any of that desperation is really for him.
"Stiles, please." Derek pushes inside, shoving open the door Stiles had been ready to close.
"I can't, Derek," and Stiles hopes he doesn't sound as wrecked as he feels. "You just—this is something you'll have to figure out on your own."
Derek stands there, and Stiles knows he's shocked. Stiles has always jumped at the chance to fix things. He is the pack's own personal fixer-upper, or he used to be. He can't tell Derek that the reason Scott won't tell him anything is because Stiles made him promise not to. He can't tell Derek that the reason he left was to protect Derek from being drawn into something against his will. He can't tell him anything, and it hurts like hell but he has to. He didn't suffer this much to break down now.
"The pack misses you," Derek continues, shredding Stiles' heart as he speaks. "I—things aren't the same with you gone."
"Derek, you should go."
"What?"
Stiles turns away, unable to keep facing him. He can't stand looking at what he can't have while Derek remains completely oblivious to everything standing between them.
"Stiles, why won't you just talk to me?" Derek asks. "What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing." Stiles' voice breaks, and he has to take a deep breath before speaking again. "You've done absolutely nothing, Derek." That's the entire problem, Stiles thinks bitterly.
"Then why won't you—"
"I just can't, okay?!" He can hear Derek's sharp intake of breath, but he doesn't turn around. He doesn't move at all until he hears the door close a minute later. Once he's sure Derek's out of earshot Stiles lets go, sinking to the floor and sobbing until his tears run dry.
Stiles isn't sure if it's because of Derek's visit or the projection of his own feelings, but that night he dreams of Talia. He knows it isn't really her this time. It doesn't feel right, the way it used to when he first dreamt of her, and he never could actually speak with her during any of those dreams. She's never returned since that last dream months ago, but his subconscious is clearly grasping at straws. Talia's dreams started this entire ordeal, so maybe they can end it, too.
"I don't know what to do anymore," Stiles admits, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. They're sitting in the strange limbo again, and Stiles thinks it's kind of fitting that the emptiness that surrounds them now reflects the state of his heart.
Talia crosses her arms. "Why is it up to you to do anything?"
"Great." Stiles barks out a laugh, shaking his head. "More cryptic questions. You sure you're not related to Deaton?"
"I believe the question was very simple, Stiles," Talia replies, brows raised.
"Nothing is simple anymore," Stiles mutters.
Talia sits beside him, her arm brushing his. "Then uncomplicate it."
"I thought I was. I thought leaving would make everything less complicated."
"Running away never solves anything," she says.
"I wasn't running!" Stiles pushes off his feet, pacing back and forth and trying to sift through the endless muddle of thoughts that crowd his mind. "I'm doing what's best, okay?"
"Best for who?"
"Both of us!" Stiles yells.
"You know, sometimes we do all the wrong things for all the right reasons."
Stiles wakes up not long after that, but it doesn't do much good. He remembers Talia's words vividly, unlike most days when he wakes up with barely a hint of what he'd dreamt the night before. He hates how unsure he feels, and he really hates that Talia was simply voicing exactly what's been plaguing his thoughts ever since Derek walked out of his apartment the day before.
Is he doing the wrong thing?
He's not Kate, he knows that. Yet, somehow it still feels wrong to pursue Derek with ulterior motives, despite the fact that his reasons are nothing but good. Does being soulmates excuse any of that?
What hurts the most is that he knows Derek is in pain. Derek may not know why, but Stiles does. And it's his fault. It seems like no matter which path he chooses, Derek is bound to get hurt. Scrubbing his hands helplessly through his hair, he grabs for his phone before he can talk himself out of it and pulls up a new texting thread with Derek.
I'm sorry.
He doesn't really expect to get a response, but Derek writes back almost immediately.
Please come back.
Stiles laughs, the sound harsh and broken. He toys with ignoring the plea entirely, but now that he's opened this door it's hard to shut it. Somehow seeing Derek's words in writing make them all the more difficult to ignore. He stares at his phone for a good fifteen minutes before responding.
Not yet.
It's not a yes, but it isn't a no either, and Stiles can't really offer much more than that right now.
They continue texting on a somewhat regular basis. Stiles never initiates it after that first conversation, but he doesn't have to. Sometimes Derek has a question he needs help with, which can turn into hour-long conversations about the pros and cons of banding together with harpies, or the moral ambiguity of vampirism, or what it's like to have grown up entirely human. Other times Derek just wants to talk.
Those are Stiles' favorite times.
He still isn't at the point where he can give Derek any explanations for his absence, much less share his true feelings. But Derek doesn't bring it up again and Stiles thinks that this is maybe a sort of compromise. Stiles is far enough away that he can pine in private while still maintaining some semblance of a friendship with Derek. It works.
Until it doesn't.
"Dude, what are you doing?" Scott asks during their weekly phone call.
"What are you talking about?"
"Look, man, you know I love you. Which is why I have to call you out on your shit."
Stiles rolls his eyes. "Scott, seriously. What the hell are you talking about?"
"Derek. I'm talking about Derek, Stiles. And how you think it's okay to just string him along, with no thought to what it might be doing to him."
"What the fuck, Scott?" Stiles feels like they've had this conversation before, but Scott sounds pissed.
"This isn't you, man," Scott continues. "I don't know what's gotten into your head lately, but the Stiles I know doesn't run from his problems, he dives into them head on."
"Why does everyone seem to think I'm running from something?" Stiles asks.
"Because you are! You can justify it any way you want, but in the end you're running, Stiles. And you're dragging Derek through the mud while you do it."
"Bullshit!" Stiles shouts into the phone. "I'm protecting him."
"You're protecting yourself!" Scott yells. "You think you're acting all high and mighty by trying to keep from repeating Derek's past? Well, newsflash, Stiles: you are repeating the past! All you're doing is taking away any opportunity for Derek to make his own decisions without him even knowing about it. And you know what's worse? You two are fucking in love with each other and you're both too blind to just admit it!"
Stiles can't think of a single thing to say in the wake of Scott's diatribe. Scott's heavy breaths are the only sounds on the line, but Stiles just sits there frozen. Because Scott is right. He's doing exactly what he set out not to do, and for what? To let himself fall apart until there's nothing left for Derek to love? It hurts to think he's just making decision after decision to try and make things right and none of them are turning out the way they're supposed to.
"Alright," he finally says and he can hear Scott's obvious sigh of relief. "I'll tell him."
Once he's made the choice, it's hard to put it off. Stiles wants everything to happen right this second, before something else can go wrong or he changes his mind. But this is a talk that needs to happen face-to-face and the idea of driving back across the country and waiting days to do it seems like torture. So Stiles buys a ticket on the next flight out to California and then texts Derek.
I have something to tell you.
Okay.
My flight lands at 5. Pick me up?
I'll be there.
Despite condensing a two day drive into a six hour flight, Stiles is still restless. He fidgets constantly at the airport, his knees bounce up and down on the plane until the person next to him shoots him an annoyed look. But the idea of seeing Derek and actually fessing up to everything is making Stiles a little crazy. He has absolutely no idea what to expect, and that's the worst part of all. He doesn't know if he should brace for the worst or hope for the best because there's no telling how Derek will react.
By the time the plane lands and the flight is deboarding, Stiles is a nervous wreck. He has to take deep breaths to force down the panic bubbling up in his chest. He heads out to the pickup line where Derek had said he would wait. It doesn't take long to spot the Camaro idling on the curb.
Stiles opens the door and lowers himself into the car, tossing his duffel bag into the back. Instantly, he feels ten times better. He's still nervous, his pounding heart can attest to that, but just being near Derek has a soothing effect on him.
"Hey," Stiles says, after they've pulled back into traffic.
"Hello, Stiles."
They sit in silence for a long while. Derek remains focused on the road and Stiles can't figure out how to begin. After another ten minutes pass, he figures he'll just have to jump right into it.
"So," Stiles says, clearing his throat when it comes out a little weak. "I, um, have something I need to tell you."
"You couldn't do it over the phone?" Derek asks.
That hurts. Stiles knows it's his fault for putting the distance between them, but still. He shakes his head. "I don't think this is a conversation we should have through texts."
"Well?"
Derek looks like he's bracing for the worst which, to be fair, he has every right to believe. Stiles heads off to live on the other side of the country and now he's suddenly back with some news? He'd be freaking out, too, if he were in Derek's place. Hell, he is freaking out.
"Look, um, there's no easy way to say this," Stiles begins, "so I'm just gonna say it. We're soulmates, Derek."
"What?" Derek asks, shock plastered across his face. "But I thought you—"
Stiles grimaces. "I should have told you sooner, I know that now."
"Wait, told me what?" Derek asks.
Now Stiles is confused. "I just said: we're soulmates."
Derek growls, steering the car jerkily until they're stopped on the side of the road. "I know that. You didn't come all the way here just to tell me something I already knew, Stiles. I want to know what you didn't tell me."
"That is what I didn't tell you." Stiles' jaw drops open. "Hold up, you knew? This entire time?"
"Of course I did," Derek scoffs. "I'm not an idiot."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Stiles yells, suddenly angry. He went through all this, suffered all this time, over nothing? "Why the hell didn't you say anything?"
"Because of you, you moron!" Derek yells back. "I knew you were having those dreams, I knew from the very first night, but all you did was pretend like nothing had changed! You clearly wanted nothing to do with me, so what was I supposed to do? Throw myself at you?"
"Yes!" Stiles cries. "You were supposed to do something—anything! I thought you didn't know; I was trying not to force you into something you didn't want, and the whole time you just sat there!"
"No I didn't," Derek grits out. "I went after you, Stiles. I went across the entire fucking country to talk to you, to try and fix this so we could be together, and what did you do? You threw it back in my fucking face. So, what? Now you've suddenly changed your mind? Decided I was worth the trouble after all?"
Derek's face is fierce, and Stiles can't stand to see the look of pain and self-deprecation aimed at him. The air in the car is tense and Stiles suddenly can't breathe. He fumbles at the latch for his seatbelt with numb fingers, pressing at it blindly until it releases and he pushes himself out of the car. His legs only stumble for a few feet before giving out and he gulps in the fresh air like he's dying, hands braced on the ground before him and eyes squeezed shut.
"Stiles?" Derek calls.
He half-listens as Derek gets out of the car and walks over, but he's more focused on trying not to cry and make a complete fool out of himself.
"Look, Stiles, I—"
"I'm sorry, Derek. I didn't know," Stiles interrupts, voice shaky. "I didn't know you knew or I never would have left."
Derek kneels down beside him. "Hey, it's okay."
"No, it's not." He looks up at Derek, and this time the tears fall of their own accord. "It's not okay, Derek. Don't you see? I thought I was keeping you safe, but I was just hurting you. I don't care what you think about my reasons for leaving, but you have to know I would never hurt you on purpose. You're not some burden I'm bearing. You're fucking perfect, Derek. Everything seems meaningless without you. You can't think that I hate you, you can't, you can't—"
"Okay," Derek soothes. "Calm down." He reaches out to stroke away the tears on Stiles' cheek and Stiles thinks it's possibly the best thing he's ever felt. He leans into the touch as Derek continues. "I know that, alright? I know all of those things because I feel the same for you, only tenfold. Fuck, Stiles, do you know how hard it was to stay away from you? To pretend like you weren't the center of my world?"
Stiles chuckles wetly, wiping his face on his sleeve. "I might have an idea."
"Come here," Derek says fondly, pulling Stiles towards him.
Stiles goes willingly, falling towards Derek's chest as the weight on his shoulders lifts away. Now that he's not trying to push it back, he can feel the bond between them growing stronger and tighter and suddenly he can't get close enough. He scrambles into Derek's lap, wrapping both arms and legs around Derek and lets Derek clutch him back just as tightly. Holding Derek close, it's like having all the pieces fall into place. Everything feels right and perfect here in Derek's arms.
A bubble of laughter escapes him and he can hear his joy echoed by Derek from where his face is buried in Stiles' neck. He belatedly realizes that they're sitting in a field on the side of the highway, but even that can't dampen the bliss running through his veins.
"You're mine," Derek murmurs, pressing a warm kiss to Stiles' mouth and leaning their foreheads together.
"Yours," Stiles says. "Always."
Afterword
End Notes
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