I'm making it official, I'm putting 'Fantasy' on a temporary hiatus (could be two weeks, could be two months, I don't know). I've got a lot going on right now, with school starting up, college applications, two jobs, Homecoming right around the corner, AND I'm designing costumes for the school musical. So, unfortunately, I must prioritize, and I don't want to keep you guys stringing along without any word. 'Sing' may be added to if the inspiration is strong enough, but don't hold me to that. I'm so sorry guys, you all rule and I appreciate you so much; I hope I don't lose you all as readers.

Disclaimer: The only thing I own are the chills I get every time I listen to this song.

Someone Like You - Adele

It was when Stiles fell asleep in his arms, still naked, with his first declaration of love still hanging in the air and ringing in Derek's ears, that the wolf knew.

He couldn't do this. Not to Stiles. The kid deserved better than a quick fuck and the desire for a relationship that Derek just couldn't give. The relationship that Stiles wanted, with the 'I love you's and the flowers and the doting, well, maybe Derek wanted some part of it too. But it was a fantasy and that was all it would ever be.

Stiles deserved more.

It was with a heavy heart and a strange, unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach that Derek dressed, leaning down one last time to press a gentle kiss to the highschooler's forehead.

And just like that, Derek Hale was gone.

Stiles studied himself in the mirror, smoothing the nonexistent flaws in his tuxedo jacket. His reflection stared stonily back and he sighed, blinked at himself. The elaborately decorated frame sneered at him, pointing intricate fingers and laughing in mockery. Something inside his head kept screaming, this is wrong, don't do this, wrongwrongwrong.

But he really shouldn't be feeling this way on his wedding day.

Stiles ran his hand across his jaw and around to the back of his neck where he rubbed lightly, looking down at his feet and breathing rhythmically. This was stupid, the way he was feeling. Weary, anxious…maybe a little disappointed, like this wasn't the 'happy ending' he was meant to have. But he could do this, he could watch the woman he loved walk down the aisle toward him. Because yes, he did love her. That was how it was supposed to be.

Then again, conventionality had never been Stiles' thing.

And then he looked up, back into the mirror, to see Derek—Derek Hale—standing in the doorway over his shoulder. To say he'd jumped in shock would be a severe understatement. He stared in the mirror as the werewolf offered a tiny, humorless smile.

"Ten years, and you still jump," he said softly, and Stiles let his eyes close momentarily at the voice. It had been a decade since he'd heard Derek speak, but the deep, slightly husky drawl washed over him with such familiarity that it might as well have been yesterday.

When he opened his eyes again, Derek was looking at him with mild curiosity, head tilted just slightly.

"That's the first thing you say?" Stiles breathed, not trusting his voice to raise it any higher. He turned from the mirror to shakily meet the pale blue gaze head-on.

Derek's voice was still quiet, though Stiles swore he was screaming in the otherwise silent room, when he responded. "I wasn't sure what else to say."

"Why are you here?"

Truth be told, Derek had no idea why he was there. He'd, of course, stayed closely in touch with Scott when he'd gone, the younger wolf understanding of his Alpha's need to leave. He'd told him about how devastated Stiles had been upon waking up to a cold bed that very next morning.

Broken, Scott had said. Utterly shattered.

And Scott told him about how Stiles had begun to pick up the little fragments of himself, pulling them back together over the months. Over the years.

And here Stiles was, standing before him in a tuxedo. Ten years had been good to the kid. The scrawny high school boy had filled out, his jaw squared, his facial features just a little bit more defined. His hair was a little longer. Derek wondered idly what would happen if he were to run his finger down the kid's neck, maybe trace his collarbone. He wondered…

"I don't know why I'm here," he admitted, sighing. I couldn't stay away. I couldn't fight it.

Stiles stared at him. He wanted to yell at the man in front of him, scream at him, hit him, kiss him hard enough to make up for all the years. But he just stood. He stared.

"You don't know…" Stiles repeated quietly, almost to himself. "You show up after ten years of nothing, and you don't know why—" There was a tiny little edge of hysteria creeping into his voice.

"Stiles," Derek cut in, and the kid fell silent immediately, praying that the wolf would say his name again. Just once, even. "I had to leave."

The younger man remained quiet, still taking in every thing about the wolf that he'd gone without for the past ten years, and blinked to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes.

"You didn't deserve the set-up we had. I couldn't give you the relationship you wanted, and I couldn't make you happy," Derek told him, his voice low and maybe a little desperate as he rushed on when Stiles opened his mouth to protest, "No, not truly happy. You deserve someone who can make you that happy, someone who can give their entire self to you. Hell, someone who can make you a father!" His voice was rising now as he gestured toward the door. Toward the rest of Stiles' life. His eyes were wide and pleading, and Stiles couldn't help but notice how lost Derek really looked as they blinked at each other.

Stiles scrutinized the older man, his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes swimming. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he whispered into the quiet room, "Tell me you didn't love me."

Derek froze.

"Tell me you didn't love me, please," the tears were falling now and Stiles was practically begging, "It'd make this a whole lot easier."

The wolf stared at him, completely silent, but that was enough; Stiles let out a soft sob and wiped impatiently at his eyes.

"Alright, then," he murmured wetly, releasing a humorless laugh that was more like a gasp. He sniffed and hiccupped, and Derek wanted so badly to stride forward, pull him close and feel Stiles' weight against his chest.

"Stiles, I have to tell you—"

"Babe?"

The two men paused as a petite brunette danced into the room, her hair elegantly tied in curls and wisps at the base of her neck, her face flawless with youth. Her long white dress billowing behind her. She hesitated upon spotting her fiancé's tears, her eyes flicking between him and the dark man whom she'd never seen before.

"I'm sorry, I—" she broke off, brow furrowing daintily, and she gestured haltingly toward the doorway, "I should've…knocked?"

Derek wanted to laugh at how badly it hurt to physically see the bride, rather than just as an abstract 'somebody'. Stiles belonged to this woman now, not him. Not anymore.

She turned her wide, pretty eyes on the wolf, smiling politely. "Well you're not with the bride…" she joked, her light, tinkling laugh grinding against Derek's eardrums, and he forced himself to smile along with her.

"I'm an old..." his look of confliction went by unnoticed by her, "…friend. Of Stiles'."

She smiled graciously again, nodding to herself before turning to Stiles. "Babe, it's um…they're ready for you. Are you okay?"

Stiles glanced over her shoulder at the other man, finding his face skillfully blank. The younger man turned his eyes down to meet his bride's, and he smiled softly. "Yeah. I'll be out in a sec."

The small woman grinned, placing a peck to Stiles' cheek and giving a tiny squeak of excitement before dashing from the room. Pale blue eyes met chestnut brown again and Derek gave a sad smile.

"She's beautiful, Stiles."

The younger man nodded absently, "So you…what? Came here to tell me not to get married?"

Please tell me not to get married. Stiles would be back in Derek's arms the second the wolf said it.

But Derek just smiled that sad smile at him, "No, Stiles, I want the best for you," he said softly, and after a tense pause, he continued, "I should go."

And Stiles stared with wide eyes as the lycan turned toward the door. "Derek, don't…"

But the older man just looked over his shoulder to hold Stiles' gaze, brow furrowed like he was trying to take in every detail of the younger man. And then he disappeared out the door.

Just like that, Derek Hale was gone.

Happy happy!

P.S. Little tidbit: Blink-182 and My Chemical Romance were here a couple weeks ago for the Honda Civic Tour. Jesus, Gerard Way is just so spicy. Mmm.

Reviews are yummy. Love.