A/N: Aaaand, here we go. Happy feeling's over? Sorry. Told you this was not a happy fic. Thank you guys for the kind comments tho!

Chapters will be updated weekly.

Summary: Not every story has a happy ending. Stiles and Derek's certainly didn't. Can a person live without the other half of their soul?

I own nothing.

Chapter 3:

They had two wonderful months of bliss.

Stiles was amazing, better than Derek ever dared to wish for. He was clumsy and restless and full of energy, witty and sarcastic, funny to the point of tears and extremely smart, challenging Derek on a daily basis. He was kind and affectionate and impulsive, willing to give his life for his loved ones, and Derek found himself falling madly in love with the boy who shared his soul.

They spent every waking moment with each other, and even some of the nights, sleeping in each other's arms with every possible inch of their skin touching and vibrating with the connection they shared, sometimes at the Hale house, sometimes at the Stilinskis'. Stiles, with his sweet nature and charming sense of humor, was always welcomed at the Hales', with Derek's family throwing themselves all over him and spoiling him rotten.

The Sheriff, on the other hand, did not like Derek at all.

Every time Derek stayed the night in Stiles' house, the Sheriff would give him such a look that made Derek flinch and retreat back into Stiles' room, to avoid the glare he really didn't think he deserved.

Because, seriously. What had he ever done to have the Sheriff dislike him that much? They barely even spoke when Derek came with his family to meet Stiles for the first time, two months ago, but ever since then he ignored Derek's existence, apart from the occasional glare.

And if that wasn't enough, apparently he also started treating Stiles like a china doll.

Stiles would sometimes complain to Derek when they were alone, going into long angry speeches about the fact his father never allow him to do anything anymore. Derek listened every time Stiles began one of his rants, but whenever he tried to ask Stiles what he thought was the reason for that behavior, the other would just avoid answering and change the subject, irritated and distant.

And yes, Derek wasn't stupid. He knew something was up. He knew there was something important that Stiles and his father knew and wouldn't tell him. He could feel it, every day when he saw Stiles. Something was not right... but he didn't want to press on his newfound soulmate, so he just dropped it for now.

It happened one morning, though, when Derek dropped by the Stilinskis to pick Stiles up and drive him to school.

Parking his black Camaro near the sidewalk, Derek turned off the engine and checked himself once again in the side mirror, making sure his hair wasn't sticking in odd direction before he slid out of the car and walked up the short path leading to the front porch of Stiles' house. He was just about to knock when he heard muffled angry yelling from inside. Derek froze.

"I don't care what you fucking say, I am NOT going!" It was Stiles' voice, sounding so different than Derek ever heard it before. It was filled with anger, not a hint of his usual kindness in it.

"I am not asking you, Stiles!" The Sheriff's voice boomed, making Derek flinch and start to retreat back from the porch. It was clearly not a good time. "I'm ordering you! It can't go on like this! You can't keep pretending!"

A crash was heard from inside, something smashing on the floor along with a loud, frustrated cry. Another shout of, "Stiles!" Was heard before Derek realized there were quick footsteps coming in his direction and then the door suddenly swung open, revealing a very pissed off Stiles standing in the doorway.

He paused when he saw Derek standing there awkwardly, ignoring the way the older man shifted uncomfortably.

"Let's go." He gritted out shortly, before slamming the door behind him, making the walls shake.

They didn't speak to each other all the way to school, with Stiles too angry to talk and with Derek basically speechless and very, very confused. He knew Stiles knew he heard them, but he didn't know how to approach the subject and ask for answers. And he definitely didn't want, too, to be on the receiving end of Stiles' bad side.

He dropped him off at the parking lot of Beacon Hills' high school. Stiles barely thanked him, then snatched his bag, climbed out and stormed towards the double metal doors. Derek noticed with a stab of worry that Stiles was almost limping, his walk somewhat shaky.

Derek watched him go, chewing at his bottom lip in worry. He was scared, and he could feel a hint of anger that wasn't his and a pang of guilt stabbing at his heart and turning his stomach... and he knew it was Stiles.

He closed his eyes then, and took a deep breath, thinking of two nights before where he and Stiles fell asleep in each other's arms. He memorized that comforting feeling of warmth and security, and then gently, experimentally pushed it towards the spot in his heart that was the source of that hostile feeling of foreign anger.

It took a few long and tense moments, but eventually Derek felt how the tight feeling began to loosen up and the anger lessened considerably. Stiles was slowly calming down, he could feel it.

Derek smiled sadly, sighing and running a hand through his hair in worry. Then he stepped on the gas and drove off.

They hadn't spoken to each other for whole two day.

Derek could swear these were the most painful two days of his entire life. Being away from Stiles and not even hearing his voice was physically agonizing. He ached to go there and see him, but decided against it, giving Stiles some time to cool down and come to him whenever he was ready. In some level, Derek knew it wasn't just a normal fight between father and son. There was more to it - much more, and the need to damn it all and just ask him was so strong... Derek wasn't sure he could hold back for much longer.

On the third afternoon of complete and total nothing from Stiles, it finally happened.

The door was ringing repeatedly downstairs, but Derek ignored it and kept focusing on his books and notes, waiting for someone else to answer it. He heard Laura and Cora childishly racing each other down the hall, with James calmly and very very British-ly calling after them to slow down before they break something.

He heard muffled talking, and then Laura called out at the top of her lungs, making him jump out of his skin.

"DEREK!"

Derek almost fell out of his chair in his hurry to get downstairs. He knew exactly who this was - there was only one person he expected to come for him, only one person that mattered. He jumped the stairs down two at a time, grabbing onto the rail to keep his balance.

Rushing to the front door he finally stopped, panting, his heart trembling in excitement and expectation.

Stiles was there, staring at his feet while twisting his hands nervously, chewing at his bottom lip and not daring to look up. He looked troubled and stressed, and Laura gave Derek a sharp, warning look, then withdrew from the door and dragged Cora behind her, elbowing her brother as they left. Once they were left alone, Derek broke the silence, his voice quiet and hesitant.

"Hi." Was all he could get out, anxiously waiting for Stiles to speak.

The other was clearly upset, his eyes darting everywhere but to Derek, hands practically shaking. Derek felt as if someone had stabbed his heart - watching his soulmate acting that upset hurt him too.

"Stiles?"

The boy looked hesitantly up, whisky brown eyes swimming with unshed tears. Derek thought a punch to his guts would be less painful than that.

"Can I come in?"

"Yes, yeah. Sure." Derek stammered, moving away from the door to allow him inside, overwhelmed with raw emotion. Once the front door closed behind them, Derek reached forward and grabbed Stiles' left wrist, fingers closing right over his own name there. He pulled him close, savoring the contact he so desperately longed for the past two days, and then began to lead him upstairs and into his room. He locked the door and turned around, facing Stiles with worry written all over his face.

"Stiles," Derek said quietly, his thumb still stroking the delicate skin of Stiles' wrist. "What's going on?"

In an instant, as if Derek's raw concern stirred something deep inside him, Stiles' face scrunched up as he tried to stop himself from crying. Although still, two or three tears managed to escape anyway, rolling down his cheeks and disappearing at his collar. Derek's grip tightened, suddenly very, very scared. He didn't like this situation one bit.

"I'm sorry," Stiles choked out hoarsly, his free hand wiping at his face in frustration to get rid of the embarrassing tears. "I'm so, so sorry, Derek. For the way I treated you, you didn't deserve that, I'm sorry." He said again as one more tear made it's way down his cheek, and Derek couldn't stop himself from reaching out and wiping it away.

"Stop," He said quietly, feeling as if he himself was about to start crying, too. It broke his heart. "Stop apologizing, it's- it's fine. I'm not mad. It's fine."

But Stiles just shook his head, rubbing his face on his sleeve once again... and Derek knew it was not all he came here to talk about.

"The reason... the reason my dad and I fought," He started, his expression suddenly steeling into a blank and emotionless mask, only broken by his red, puffy eyes and the tear tracks on his face. "He wanted me to check into the hospital-"

"Wait, what?" Derek cut in, green eyes widening with freezing fear. "Hospital?"

No.

No, no, no...

Stiles nodded, then swallowed hard, his eyes giving away the swirling emotions he tried to block and keep at bay. "Yes. Don't interrupt me, okay?" He pleaded. "It's hard enough as it is." His voice trembled. Derek nodded silently, even though it only raised a thousand more questions instead. "I... a few months ago, before we met, I started having strange dreams that stretched even to my waking hours." Stiles resumed his explanation, shaky and anxious. "My anxiety and panic attacks came back and dad noted a few more changes in my behavior, things I dismissed or tried to hide from him... he had a lot to worry about already."

He paused, taking in a deep, shaking breath.

"A-anyway... after a few weeks of that we realized it couldn't just be my ADHD, and he decided to take me for a check up at the hospital, and- and they found out I have, um, Dementia." His voice trembled at the word, eyes distant as if a terrible memory was fighting it's way to his consciousness. Derek inhaled sharply. "Frontotemporal Dementia, to be exact," Stiles added, his voice raspy, dying down with each word he said. "That's what my mother had." He said with a quiet, weak whisper.

Derek let out a slow, shaking breath. Claudia Stilinski died a few years ago, when Stiles was just a kid... that much he knew. Stiles told Derek that on their third date, touching the subject for just enough time to explain Derek the absence of a mother at the house, then changing the subject as usual. This was the first time Derek had heard any details about her death.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Derek practically whispered, his heart racing in panic and terror, fear choking his throat. He felt cold seeping through his ribs. Stiles shook his head slowly.

"Dad wanted me to," He mumbled. "He said it wasn't fair to leave you in the dark. But I- I couldn't. I mean... I just found you, I didn't want to ruin what we have, you know?" He looked up, brown eyes meeting green, pleading him to understand. His chin trembled again, tears resurfacing. "I wanted us to be happy, just for a little while."

Derek couldn't say anything. The words stuck in his throat, pushing the tears up until a muffled whimper bubbled past his shut lips. Doing the only thing he could think of, Derek closed the short distance between them and sharply pulled Stiles into his arms, pressing them both so close it was starting to hurt. But even then, it still hurt less than the pain in his chest, where all the happiness he felt the past two months turned into a dark void of fear and grief and pain.

"I'm sorry," Stiles whispered brokenly in his ear as his arms wrapped around his soulmate's back, his voice muffled by Derek's

shoulder. His only answer was tightening their embrace, almost as if he thought that if he held Stiles close enough it would protect him from any harm. He didn't even know what Stiles was apologizing for, but still his voice repeated the words quietly, chokingly.

"I'm sorry."

A/N: Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think :)