His dreams were a swirling mess. He could feel Derek…almost. It was strange. It wasn't like he was really dreaming. It wasn't like anything was actually happening to him. It just seemed like Derek was…present. Somehow. Stiles shook him awake with a hand to his shoulder and Jackson was grateful. He wondered for a moment how he'd even fallen asleep. The last thing he remembered was Peter kissing Stiles goodbye. He smiled slightly at that.
"So I cleaned up," Stiles offered with a gentle smile. Jackson felt his eyebrows go up in shock.
"Really? Thanks." Stiles opened his mouth but visibly hesitated.
"And…Derek's here to talk to you." Jackson shot up in bed, lungs locking so tight he couldn't breathe.
"No," he managed with the last of his oxygen. Stiles frowned, sitting on the bed. Jackson shook his head quickly. "No," he wheezed. He wasn't ready. He couldn't.
"Okay, okay," Stiles said, laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "Just breathe. I'll tell him to go." Jackson clutched at his arm even as he said it.
"Don't go," he begged after inhaling desperately. "If you leave he'll come in here and he'll…" he wasn't sure how to finish the sentence, how to finish the thought.
"He won't," Stiles said softly, "he won't come in." Jackson felt his face screw tight in a mix of fear and shame.
"I'm sorry," he said earnestly, "I'm sorry." He forced himself to drop Stiles' arm, hands curling on the sheet. "I'm…not ready yet." Stiles climbed into the bed and hugged him from the side.
He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. He could only assume Derek had left. "Have we heard from Peter?" he asked, trying to distract himself.
"Yeah," Stiles said, laughing slightly. "He called."
"That's funny?" Stiles drew back, pulling a pillow into his arms.
"A little. He was trying to text."
"No way," Jackson let out, smiling stupidly. Stiles laughed loudly, head falling back in his obvious joy.
"He ah- he thinks the green button means go." Jackson laughed too, scooting back to the headboard and leaning against it.
"He does know it's a cell phone and not a traffic light right?" Stiles chuckled at that, nose wrinkling.
"Remains to be seen," he murmured. There were a few quiet moments as they gathered themselves. "Oh hey so I'm not checking up on you or whatever, even though that's like the whole basis of me being here…ignore that, but I'm just wondering where your parents are?"
"Every once in a while they fly down to San Francisco for the weekend. It's where they met."
"Ah," Stiles nodded, smiling again, "hotel sex."
"Dude!" Jackson's jaw fell open.
"What?" Stiles questioned, obviously enjoying Jackson's discomfort. "That's when you get into the really freaky stuff. You know…the whips and," he began meowing like a cat, jumping off the bed when Jackson lunged for him.
"You're dead Stilinski!"
…
Derek didn't move when Peter scaled the side of the house and joined him on the roof. Peter crossed to him slowly, taking in the way his arms were crossed over his knees, as if struggling to stay still. He listened for a few moments to his pups wrestling before sitting down next to Derek.
"Uncle," Derek acknowledged him, unmoving.
"Derek," Peter returned, following his gaze and seeing nothing. "You haven't called me that in years. Asides from the other night."
"You've paid your debt," Derek said.
"The whole moonlight and mysteries thing doesn't work with me." Derek looked down to his hands.
"You saved my life," he admitted. It took Peter another moment to realize that he wasn't looking at his hands at all. He was looking below them. Peter sighed, laying a hand on Derek's shoulder. He wasn't surprised when his nephew flinched.
"Give him time. Maybe you didn't really mean to break him but you did. He has to heal now."
"I know that," Derek snapped. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I know. But it's like everything inside of me is telling me to go to him and fix it and hold him and make it right and I can't. Because he doesn't want me to. He nearly had a heart attack when Stiles told him I was here." He paused. "He's terrified of me. And I've given him every reason to be."
"Time," Peter repeated. "You're feeling things you don't understand. He's feeling-"
"I understand perfectly Uncle. He's my mate. I'm supposed to protect him at any cost."
"You care for him."
"Of course I do!" Derek spat, shooting to his feet. He paced a few steps away before pausing. "He's strong and loyal…just…fucking beautiful." Peter stared at him for so long Derek turned away, scowling.
"The boy's got you completely unhinged." Derek growled.
"You don't have to be so damn happy about it."
"I do," Peter argued, standing as well. "There are nearly a dozen hunters in town. The Argents won't help us." He stopped barely a foot from Derek, not daring to smile. "I need you with me," he said. He winced, lips curling.
"I'm not with you." His eyes didn't drop to the roof again. They didn't have to. "I'm with him." Peter worked harder not to smile for just a second.
"Close enough."
…
"God," Stiles panted, collapsing back to Jackson's bed, "why is your house so freaking huge?"
"You're just pissed cause you lost," Jackson said, dropping next to him.
"Lost?" Stiles croaked. "I did not lose anything." Jackson just chuckled.
"Yeah you did."
"How so?"
"You almost broke my mother's vase," Jackson pointed out, letting his eyes close.
"Yeah well I didn't," Stiles returned smugly.
"Because I caught it."
"Because I caught it," Stiles mimicked childishly. He stuck his tongue out when Jackson smacked his ribs. "Yeah well," he said after another moment, "you're going down next time."
"Yeah okay," Jackson agreed dryly. He closed his eyes again.
…
"We can tell them about the hunters tomorrow," Peter breathed, listening to his pack going back and forth beneath his feet.
"What can we do?" Derek questioned. "We're severely outnumbered, they can't fight. What can we do?" Peter glanced up to the night sky.
"What we can do is be smarter than they are Derek. I still have a few cards to play." Derek arched an eyebrow and huffed out a breath, as if he didn't believe him. Peter ignored it. Derek was with them. For now he'd tell himself that was all they needed.
A/N: Same as usual. Sorry for the wait. I know it really is heinous. Writer's block and school do not mix. I haven't been able to actually plot for weeks. Hopefully that's over now.
No idea when the next update will be.
Really hope you guys are still out there. Sorry again.