Despite the weather having been calm over the morning hours, by the time the snowplow finally makes it through to the road it is snowing heavily again. The wind is bitter and cold and strong, and Derek is forced to admit that attempting to leave now would probably be a colossal mistake.
The check-in girl, "Call me Kat-I know that's not what my name tag says, but that's mostly because it's not my name tag," had ushered everyone who wasn't insane enough to take off in the blizzard inside their respective rooms with promises to bring lunch by, but it's after one in the afternoon before she finally knocks on their door. Stiles is napping in the nest of blankets on the bed, and Derek has spent most of the past fifteen minutes on the phone in an uncomfortable conversation with his sister.
Kat is holding a plastic bag in either hand when he opens the door. Her hair, having fallen loose from her hat, is tangled from the wind and coated in fluffy white snow.
"These are totally just TV dinners in styrofoam containers. If we're still snowed in this evening, I have permission to break into the big freezer and use the office kitchen to make something else. Anyway, if you and your boyfriend don't have any allergies, I have your lunch ready."
Derek feels his cheeks heat up, but refuses to think about it.
"He's not my-" he cuts himself off at her completely mortified and embarrassed look and takes a bag from her.
"I am so sorry. I just... After the stuff in the snow... There is bottled water in the bag too. I'm just going to go now."
Kat escapes the room, the door slamming closed behind her.
The noise startles Stiles awake.
He doesn't explain to Stiles why he was blushing-and Stiles has assured him several times that he was totally blushing-and instead eats his chicken nuggets. He's fairly certain it's from a children's TV dinner because the brownie that came with it has sprinkles, but he doesn't complain. Stiles has the same one as he does.
Derek takes care of the trash while Stiles figures out how to get out of the tangle of blankets and sheets. They are both silent for several long minutes, and it feels incredibly strange.
"Dude, the weather isn't supposed to let up until like 3 am."
"Don't call me dude. And how do you know that?"
He feels fairly stupid as soon as he asks. Stiles tilts his phone his direction with a smug look on his face.
"I totally need to call my dad. And probably Scott. Did you talk to Cora?"
Derek stiffens. It's an instinctual response, even though he knows Stiles couldn't know what happened in Washington.
Stiles picks up on it though. He wishes he was more surprised.
"Something happened with her, didn't it? Is she okay?"
He doesn't want to answer. Everything feels too taut in his head.
"She's fine."
He doesn't stay long enough to hear his response.
The Jeep is cold, and it doesn't start. It's not like he intended to leave but starting it would kick the heat on at least.
He sits in it for what feels like ages, until his feet and hands start to go numb with the cold, and his ears ache.
He finds a pack of cards under the edge of the seat when he gets out and brings them back inside with him.
Stiles is sitting on the floor against the wall on the far side of the bed when he comes back in. He's twirling a pen between his fingers in a practiced motion, but he's staring straight ahead with a look in his eyes that practically screams not all there. He doesn't look at him at all.
It's disconcerting.
"You can't run just because a topic is hard, you know."
He wants to snort at that, but he doesn't. It's too practiced to be something Stiles thought up himself-more like something he's been told before.
"I found a pack of cards in the jeep."
Stiles blinks a few times, before finally turning his direction.
"You want to play cards?" He highly doubts that that's what Stiles meant to say, but he takes it anyway.
"What else are we going to do? Braid each other's hair and have a pillow fight?"
He's not sure why that comes out of his mouth, but the burst of laughter from Stiles breaks the uneasy tension and makes him feel like less of a failure. It's... nice.
"We are totally playing goldfish. You can pick the next game." Stiles says with a grin as he flops back on the bed.
"Goldfish?" He's not sure what goldfish is. He'd played go fish and old maid with his siblings growing up, which he thought most kids did. But maybe his family had different card games than most families-it's not like he went from family to family as a child to figure out what they played.
"Yeah! Have you never played? It's a kid's card game." Stiles looks unbelievably content, and Derek tries hard not to think about why that is.
He also tries (and fails) not to think about what Stiles smells like (licorice and buttered popcorn, wet clothes that haven't properly dried out, and Stiles, just Stiles).
He's thankful in that short break from speech, that Stiles is not a werewolf and cannot hear his heart's sudden decision to race for no reason other than him.
Derek doesn't know why he's nervous. That's as far as he'll take the thought.
"We used to play old maid and go fish as a family." Stiles stares up at him for a moment, his eyes searching. Derek sits at the end of the bed, dropping the deck of cards in front of him.
"So you have played goldfish. Cool." He picks up the deck and slides the cards out of the box. They're arranged in order, like they're new, but Derek can see how worn the edges have become from use.
"Dude, I'm totally a pro at shuffling. My mom taught me how to do it when I was a kid. I only ever played with her and Scott, but..."
Stiles trails off, looking down at his hands as he shuffles the cards. He doesn't bring up the fact that Stiles called him dude again, even though he wants to. Derek can hear him swallow slowly before he looks back up.
"Seven or ten?" If Stiles' voice cracks a little, Derek doesn't say anything about it.
"Seven?" He answers. Stiles grins up at him again.
And so they play. It throws him off the first time Stiles says "goldfish" instead of "go fish" and Stiles smirks the first time Derek says "go fish", but there is a current of understanding between them. It's a game they both learned from someone who has been gone for a long time, and it's as if playing it they way they grew up learning is somehow honoring them.