The Feeling That I'm Under

by wearing-tearing

[TFTIU #1] Stiles is a paramedic and Derek gets into a bike accident. It's kind of love at first sight.

9. Chapter 9

a/n: warnings for discussion of past emotional abuse. details at end notes.

it's been two months since i started writing this. so thank you so fucking much to everyone who's left reviews and messaged me on tumblr and followed or favorited the story. i'm not joking when i say it's you guys who keep me going. :3

also, read the bold part at the end notes it's important pls and thank

---

Stiles hands are shaking.

Stiles hands are shaking and his heart is thumping wildly in his chest and his stomach is doing somersaults in his belly.

Stiles totally has this.

"You can do this," Stiles says, breathing deeply in and out. "You can do this."

He swallows hard, raising a hand up to knock on the door.

Because this is it.

He's going to do like Scott said and see Derek.

And talk to him.

And hope he listens and doesn't slide the door shut on Stiles' face as soon as he sees him and before he starts explaining himself.

Not that he really needs to explain himself, he just needs to explain the situation.

And then hopefully they can go back to being boyfriends again.

Please.

Stiles' hand is up in mid-air just a few inches from the door.

All he has to do is knock.

It's pretty simple, really.

Just rapping his knuckles against the cold metal and wait for Derek to answer.

So they can talk.

Stiles can do this.

Really.

He can totally-

"Oh my god, I can't do this," Stiles breathes out as he lets his hand fall and turns on his back.

Forgetting everything about Scott's pep talk saying he loves Derek and everything will be fine.

And letting the fear of rejection swallow him whole, instead.

Because what if explaining changes nothing?

What if Derek doesn't want to be with him anyway?

What if he never wants to see Stiles again?

What if they're broken up for good?

What if?

"Are you going to stand there muttering to yourself and freaking out or are you going to knock?"

Stiles yelps.

And hits his shoulder against the door.

And curses his life and the universe when Isaac slides the door open and stares from Stiles clutching his shoulder to Cora.

Who's leaning against the closed elevator door with her arms crossed over her chest and both of her eyebrows raised.

"What are you doing here?" Isaac asks him, face carefully blank.

Stiles doesn't know if that's a good thing or not, but it doesn't keep his stomach from turning into knots as he glares at Cora before looking back at Isaac.

"I'm here to see Derek," Stiles tells him, licking his dry lips as he mentally high fives himself for not letting his voice crack with nerves.

You know, now that the choice of running away has been taken out of his hands.

"You're here to see Derek," Cora repeats as she pushes herself off the elevator door and comes to stand beside Isaac.

"Yes," Stiles nods, and when they don't say anything or move out of the way, he adds, "I need to explain some things to him. And apologize."

"Apologize?" Isaac blinks at him, eyebrows raising a little in confusion.

"I assume you know about what happened?"

Both Isaac and Cora glance at each other before looking back at him, nodding.

Great.

No need to relive that nightmare by telling them about it.

"Well," Stiles starts, clasping his hands against his back to keep himself from fidgeting. "I put him at risk. Even though I had no idea about any of it, it still happened. I made him feel like he wasn't safe being around me, and I need to apologize for that. So I'd appreciate if you'd let me in so I can tell him that myself."

Stiles swallows hard at that, because now both Cora and Isaac are staring at him like they've never seen him before.

And then Cora is rolling her eyes so hard Stiles thinks they might fall off her head.

"Oh my god," Cora huffs. "You two deserve each other."

Stiles blinks.

What?

"What?"

"Seriously," Cora shakes her head. "You think what happened was your fault?"

"I-," Stiles starts, stops, blinks a couple more times. "A little bit, yes?"

Because he could have pushed Derek for more information about his ex-girlfriend.

And he should have told him who his friends were before dragging him to dinner.

And he should have tried harder to make him listen when he was trying to tell him he had no idea Allison was related to Kate.

So even though it's not all of his fault, he can't help but feel a little bit guilty.

"You and Derek are perfect for each other," Isaac says, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Just perfect."

Stiles doesn't understand what's happening.

"I don't understand what's happening."

"What's happening is that you two apparently have the tendency to feel guilty about things that are not in your control," Cora says, looking like she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry at the situation.

And that stops Stiles in his tracks.

Because Derek is feeling guilty about what happened.

Like he did something wrong.

And Stiles can't stomach the idea that he's fallen into that mindset again, that nothing he does is right, just like when he was with Kate.

Stiles feels like he should apologize for that, too.

For making Derek feel that way when all he did was have perfectly normal reaction to a stressful and potentially traumatic situation.

"I need to talk to him," Stiles tells them, voice much weaker this time.

Because he needs to fix this.

He's needed to fix this a week ago, but he's here now, and he needs to stop wasting time and get to it.

So Derek can stop feeling like this town isn't safe and that being around Stiles isn't safe and that he's the one to blame for what happened.

"Okay," Isaac nods. "There's only one problem, though."

"What?" Stiles asks, feeling his stomach drop.

"Derek's not here."

Stiles' breath hitches at that, heart going into overdrive as he tries to process what Isaac is telling him.

"What do you mean he's not here?" Stiles says, voice pitched high and panicky. "He left?"

"He's-" Cora tries, only to be interrupted by Stiles before she can go any further.

"He can't leave! I have to talk to him. I have to tell him she won't come here, not now, not fucking ever. I have to tell him about Allison and what happened to her. He needs to know nothing's changed and I love him and I want to be with him and that none of this was his fault and that everything is going to be okay and-"

Stiles next words are muffled by Cora's palm covering his mouth, her eyes twinkling in amusement as she says, "You're gonna stop talking, and you're going to take a deep breath, and then you're going to listen to us, okay?"

He's still trying to speak and tell them how Derek being here is not fucking okay, but he forces himself to do what she says and calm himself down.

Because freaking out right now is not going to work for anyone, and if he wants to find out where Derek is he needs to keep himself in check long enough for Isaac and Cora tell him.

So he stops trying to make himself heard, instead taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, and then widening his eyes trying to telepathically tell Cora he's okay.

And to get a fucking move on.

Cora slowly drops her hand to her side, taking a step back and to Isaac's side again before saying, "Derek didn't leave. He just spent the night back at the old house with our mother."

"So he's still in Beacon Hills?" Stiles eyes them hopefully.

"Yes," Isaac nods, lips twitching up before he quickly turns his expression blank again.

Stiles feels all the air rush out of him at that, only to come back as he gulps and starts getting worked up all over again.

His hands are shaking a little when he nods at them, squeaking, "I'll be going then," and turning around so he can get back to his car.

And drive to the Preserve.

To go and see Derek.

And to figure out where they go from here after they have their much needed talk.

Isaac stops him with a hand on his shoulder, and when Stiles turns to look at him is to find Isaac and Cora glancing at each other.

Stiles can recognize they're having a conversation just by the twitch of their eyebrows and the way Cora sometimes moves her nose.

It reminds him a little bit of Allison and Scott, if he's being honest.

Whatever conversation they're having is done when they both nod at each other, and next thing Stiles knows Cora has a hand on his elbow in addition to Isaac's grip on his shoulder, and Isaac is sliding the loft's door shut and leading him to the elevator.

"What are you doing?" Stiles blinks at them, eyes going from one point of contact to the other.

"We're taking you to see Derek," Isaac tells him as they get into the elevator and start going down.

"You don't need-"

"Your hands are shaking," Cora says, voice calm. "We're not letting you drive like that and get in an accident before you get a chance to tell my brother you're in love with him."

Whatever protest Stiles was going to make dies in his lips as he snaps his mouth back shut.

And gets even more anxious about this whole thing.

Because he's gonna have to do that, right?

Tell Derek he loves him.

It doesn't necessarily have to be right now, but that's a thing that's gonna have to happen at some point.

Because Stiles does love him, a fucking lot, and Derek deserves to know how he feels.

And hopefully he feels the same way about Stiles.

Please.

Actually, hopefully Derek will just be willing to listen to what Stiles has to say, love confessions be damned.

Because this is more important than the feelings Stiles has and, well, feels.

Derek needs to know him and his family are safe before Stiles opens his mouth and declares his undying love for him.

Which is why Stiles' mouth kind of runs ahead of him and asks, "Do you think he'll listen?"

He doesn't know what's expecting, but to have Cora smile at him is not it.

And it's not a smirk or a grin or anything like that, but an actual smile that's soft and caring and is kind of freaking Stiles out a little bit.

"Yes," Cora says quietly. "I think he'll listen."

The rest of the elevator ride is done in silence, not that it takes long before they're stepping out of it, Cora's words stuck in Stiles' head as hope blooms in his chest that maybe Scott is right and everything will be okay after all.

That doesn't really help him a lot with his nervousness, though, as they step outside the building and walk towards-

"The car is not here," Stiles says, eyeing the three bikes parked in the space left for parking in front of the building.

"It's with Derek," Cora says as she lets go of him in favor of getting closer to one of the bikes.

"Then how are we supposed to get to the house?"

Stiles doesn't like the way Isaac and Cora are grinning at him.

Not even a little bit.

Nope.

Especially when Isaac gets the spare helmet on his bike and shoves it into his chest as he says, "We ride."

Stiles gulps.

Isaac and Cora keep smiling.

And next thing Stiles knows he's on the back of Isaac's bike as they ride to the Preserve.

So Stiles can talk to Derek and apologize and explain to him why he'll never have to worry about Kate appearing in Beacon Hills.

And discuss their relationship.

Or if they still have one.

Or if they don't, if there's a possibility they could fix that.

Stiles is so lost in his own head that is not until Isaac is parking in front of the old house that he notices they're there.

And that there are three people standing on the porch waiting for them.

He climbs off the bike and takes off his helmet, handing it back to Isaac as he and Cora do the same.

He pointedly ignores Laura, Erica, and Boyd's presence, settling for keeping his eyes on the ground and trying not to freak out about how close he is to doing what he came here to do.

His palms start sweating.

And his stomach starts protesting.

And his heart starts beating rapidly in his chest.

Cora gets a hand on his elbow again, her grip light as she nudges him forward.

"Alright, alright," Stiles mumbles, glaring at her when Cora flashes him a quick grin.

Isaac throws an arm around Cora's shoulders as they walk up to the house, Stiles fighting the urge to turn around and run screaming into the deep woods and away from here.

It's a close call, but he manages to walk up the steps of the porch.

And keep his arms hanging by his side instead of crossing them over his chest in a defensive move.

Which, when faced with both Laura and Erica staring at him, is a pretty big feat.

He still doesn't say anything, though.

Not that he needs to, when Laura raises an eyebrow at him and says, "I'm assuming you're here for Derek?"

"You are correct," Stiles nods, licking his lips.

"To fix things between you two?"

Stiles doesn't think this is really any of her business, but he figures if he was in Derek's place, his friends would do the same thing.

"If that's what he wants, yes," Stiles says quietly but firmly, and when Laura looks at him like she's expecting more than that, he adds, "I just want him to be okay. I came here to tell him he doesn't have to worry about risking bumping into- into Kate while he's in Beacon Hills and that, for me, nothing's changed between the two of us. I want him to feel safe, and I want him to be happy. And if that happens to involve me? Awesome. More than awesome, actually."

"And if it doesn't?" Erica is the one who asks him, face impassive.

"Then that's okay, too," Stiles says honestly, even though his stomach drops. "I'm not going to say it won't suck and I won't be heartbroken about it, but after I explain everything and tell him I still want this? Still want there to be an us? It's his decision to make, not mine. And if he doesn't want anything to do with me? Then I'm going to respect that."

Stiles hadn't really planned on giving them a speech, but he figures they have a right to ask questions.

You know, considering the state Derek was after his sisters came to pick him up a week ago, and how they're the ones who took care of him later.

So all he can do is be honest, tell them how he feels, and hope that's enough for them to see that all Stiles wants is what's best for Derek.

What Derek thinks and knows it's best for him, based on his own choices after he hears what Stiles has to say.

Even though the decision to listen to Stiles in the first place is a choice in itself.

Stiles hopes Derek will be okay with seeing him.

What he isn't hoping, though, is to have Derek's sisters and three best friends staring at him with little pleased smiles on their faces, eyes glinting, like what just came out of Stiles' mouth is the best thing they've ever heard.

Stiles' cheeks flush.

"You're a good guy," Boyd says, surprising Stiles when he claps a hand on his shoulder.

You know, even more than he already is from having Boyd call him a good guy.

And from having everyone give nods of agreement.

"I- Thank you?"

"You're welcome," Boyd nods, letting his shoulder go and crossing his arms over his chest.

Isaac lets out a snort, Stiles turning to him only to see him hiding a smile against the top of Cora's head.

Stiles doesn't know if he should feel offended.

He decides he shouldn't when Erica walks up to his side and bumps their shoulders together, Cora offering him a sweet smile when he looks at her, and Laura giving a nod of what Stiles thinks is approval.

Especially when Laura says, "I think you'll do alright, Stilinski," and Erica adds as she winks at him, "I think he'll do great."

Stiles can't help but feel a little more sure of himself at that, giving them both a sharp nod before clasping his hands together and rocking back on his heels.

"Can we go in now? I have to go confess my undying love for someone."

He gets grins from Cora, Laura, Erica, another snort from Isaac, and a small smile from Boyd at that, heart beating a little faster as Laura pushes the front door open and gestures an arm inside.

"After you."

Stiles makes a face at her, taking a deep breath as he mentally prepares himself to take that first step.

That first step to see Derek for the first time in a week, be close to him, talk to him, maybe- maybe kiss him.

You know, if Derek is okay with it.

And if he's not.

Well, Stiles doesn't want to think about that right now.

The house looks just as he remembers it, not that he really spent a lot of time in it the first and last time he was here.

There's still that deep feeling of home and comfort as he steps inside, though, making him breathe a little easier as he gathers the courage to go talk to Derek about what happened Saturday and everything he's learned since then.

"Derek's in his room. And we'll be in the backyard," Laura tells him, although Stiles doesn't know why Laura calls the forest surrounding the back of the house her backyard. "You can come to us later if you need someone to drive you back to the loft so you can get your car."

Stiles nods, even though he wishes he won't need to ask anyone for a ride because Derek will offer one himself.

"We'll be able to hear you if there's any screaming, too," Cora tells him. "Just so you know."

"Hopefully that won't be the case," Stiles mumbles, swallowing hard.

"I think you'll be okay," Erica says, grinning at him as she pats him on the cheek. "You're too cute for anyone to even consider letting you go."

Stiles is saved from having to answer to that comment when he hears Boyd clearing his throat, his eyes glued to Erica the spot Erica's hand is still touching.

Erica lets her hand drop with an even wider smile, "You know you're the only for me, right Boyd?"

Boyd's lips twitch up, arms uncrossing so he can snake one around Erica's waist and pull her flush against him.

The pang on Stiles' chest is not one of jealousy.

Nope.

He's just happy they have each other.

Really.

He is.

"You should go," Isaac says, Stiles' gaze snapping to his as his palms start sweating. "Derek probably heard us come in, already."

Stiles clenches and unclenches his fists, takes a couple of deep breathes and lets them out slowly, mentally preparing himself for the conversation he's about to have.

He barely notices everyone staring at him in equal parts amusement and sympathy, waiting for him to nod and say, "Okay," before they start turning around and going back outside.

But not before Stiles hears couple of good luck and yell if you need us and don't fuck it up or we'll fuck you up.

And add that on top of the click of the door snapping close, and Stiles wants to run the fuck away all over again.

But he reigns that in, trying to think back to Scott's words of wisdom about this whole thing.

About how he needs to do this, needs to tell Derek what he knows, needs to make sure he's okay and safe and that none of this is on him, no matter how scared Stiles is of doing so.

And that nothing has changed between them, as far as Stiles is concerned.

You know, feelings-wise.

Because Stiles still wants Derek just as much as he did before, if not more.

Actually, probably more, if he's being honest.

"Laura, could you take this up to- Oh."

Stiles doesn't startle.

He doesn't.

He also doesn't jump in place and turns around so fast he almost gets his feet tangled up and has to brace a hand against the front door to keep himself upright.

Really.

And his stomach doesn't drop and his eyes don't widen as he stares at Mrs. Hale staring right back at him while she holds a plate with sandwiches in one hand and a steaming mug in the other.

"Hello, Stiles," Mrs. Hale says, eyes crinkling as she smiles pleasantly at him.

"Uhm. Hi?" Stiles says, voice a little higher than normal.

Because he doesn't really know what to do with this.

With Mrs. Hale staring at him and smiling at him like he's not the reason her son is hurting and probably going out of his mind with worry about having someone related to Kate living in the same town as him and his family.

"I take it you're here to see Derek?"

Stiles blinks at her, feeling completely out of his depth.

He still manages a nod, though.

Barely.

"Would you mind taking this upstairs, then?" Mrs. Hale glances down at the plate and mug in her hands. "Derek's in his room."

"I know," Stiles blurts out, wincing when Mrs. Hale blinks at him. "I mean, Laura told me. When she let me in. Because I need to talk to him. Derek, that is. So. No, I don't mind taking this up with me. Since that's where I'm going anyway. To see Derek. Up in his room. Yep."

Mrs. Hale looks at him with something that looks really close to his dad's I don't know what to do with you but at least you're entertaining expression, and Stiles has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep himself for saying anything else.

He's nervous.

And sometimes he babbles when he's feeling that way.

It's better they know this about him now than later on.

And by later on Stiles means when he and Derek are back together again.

So Stiles just nods sharply before walking up to her and taking the plate and mug out of her hands, "I'll take it to him."

Just as he's taking a step back he feels a hand curl around his wrist, and Stiles has to swallow hard before he has the guts to look Mrs. Hale in the eye as he hears whatever she has to say.

Which will probably involve threats about hurting her son or not being good enough for him or wishing they've never met.

But he should know better, since Derek's friends and sisters' reactions weren't exactly what he was expecting, so there's really no reason why his mother's would be either.

"I know you won't understand why I'm telling you this," Mrs. Hale starts, smile still in place. "At least not now. But, thank you."

Stiles stares at her, because she's right.

He doesn't understand.

That still doesn't keep him from saying, "You're welcome?" even though it comes out as a question, because his mother raised him right.

Mrs. Hale takes her hand off his wrist in favor to pat him on the cheek, much like Erica did earlier.

And just like her daughter, she says, "I think you'll do alright," before waving a hand in the direction of the stairs, "Now up you go."

Stiles nods again at her, turning on his back and walking towards the stairs, having absolutely no fucking idea what just happened.

He figures it's a good thing all of Derek's friends and family think everything will be okay, but still.

Them saying so doesn't really do shit to help Stiles feel better about any of this.

Although, he is feeling a lot more optimistic about this whole thing than he was on the drive to the loft, so he figures he can try to hold onto that feeling instead of the almost crippling anxiety as he starts his way up the stairs.

And in the direction of Derek's old room.

Where he is right now.

With the door open.

Sitting on his old bed with a book in his lap.

And staring at Stiles.

Because Stiles might have whimpered a little bit.

And oh god.

Oh.

My.

Fucking.

God.

"Stiles?"

Derek's voice is low, small, coming out in a rush of breath as his eyes widen a fraction before his face blanks, but Stiles can tell by the way his eyebrows give a minute twitch and his fingers grip his book tighter that Derek's not as calm as he's trying to make himself appear to be.

And the way his chest rises and falls a little bit faster and his lips part tells Stiles that Derek's not particularly averse to having him in his room.

Which is a really good thing since, you know, Stiles needs to talk to him.

Something he should be doing right now, in fact, instead of standing by the door and staring.

So of course Stiles completely loses whatever resemblance of calm he had himself - which wasn't much to begin with, really -, raises the hand holding the plate, and blurts out, "Sandwiches?"

Because of course.

That totally makes sense and is exactly what he came here to say.

"I- What?"

And now Derek's frowning at him, mouth thinning as he looks from Stiles to what he's holding and back to Stiles again.

Like he has no idea what the fuck is going on.

Stiles kind of wants to die.

Things are not going as he planned.

Not that he planned ahead of getting in his Jeep and driving to the loft and knocking on the door.

Which, thinking about it now, is not even something he managed to do.

"Ugh, this is not going how I planned," Stiles says, forgetting he's also holding a mug when he comes to run a hand over his face, hitting himself in the nose and hissing when the hot porcelain makes contact with his skin.

"Jesus," Derek mutters as he gets up, throwing the book on the bed, walking up to Stiles, and taking the plate and mug out of his hands. "What are you doing?"

Making a fool of himself, that's what he's doing.

And when Derek doesn't move away from him Stiles can't help but take a deep breath and fill his lungs with the scent of Derek and leather and stupid fucking pine needles.

Fuck.

Derek is staring expectantly at him, still waiting for an answer.

Which Stiles promptly gives him by saying, "Your mother asked me to bring this up for you."

Even though he knows that's not really what Derek meant.

And it's not like anyone can blame him for not being a hundred percent right now.

Not when seeing Derek for the first time after an entire week.

And after the way they left things the last time they saw each other, with Derek looking like he'd just been stabbed in the back and Stiles having a panic attack.

"My mother-," Derek shakes his head, sighs, turns and sets the plate and mug on the nightstand before taking a step closer, realizing what he's doing, crossing his arms over his chest, and taking two steps back. "What are you doing here?"

Stiles lets his eyes rake around the still practically empty room, biding his time as he feels his anxiety stirr up, before he gesture to the still open door and asks, "Is it okay if I…?"

Derek nods, mouth thinning as Stiles mutters, "Right," under his breath and closes the door.

And then just stands there.

Trying not to work himself into a panic.

Fidgeting.

And staring at Derek.

Who's kind of looking super calm and like it's totally cool Stiles suddenly appearing in his room after a week and sort of acting like nothing happened.

You know, especially when Stiles clasps his hands together and goes ahead and says, "So, how are you doing?"

Only to wince as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

Seriously not going as he planned.

Which is why he's not expecting the low snort he hears from Derek, eyes snapping to attention as he looks back at him only to see Derek clench his jaw and smooth his expression back into nothing when he realizes what he's doing.

That he just acknowledged Stiles making an absolute fool of himself.

But that still serves as the little push Stiles needs, like knowing he still affects Derek in a good way is enough to give the little bit of hopes he needs to carry on.

You know, kind of.

"You don't have to answer that," Stiles shakes his head. "You don't even have to talk to me if you don't want to. Well, I mean, I have something important to tell you and it'd be in all of our best interests if you'd listen, but after that you have no obligation to hear anything I have to say if you don't feel like it so don't think you have to-"

"Stiles," Derek huffs, eyes glued to his.

He doesn't say anything else, just Stiles' name, but that's enough to make Stiles' breath hitch and his heart speed up and the butterflies in his stomach to make themselves known.

Because Stiles missed him.

He missed him so fucking much that it's not until he's here, in front of Derek, having Derek say his name as he's looking at him, that it hits him full-force, right in the fucking chest.

And at the same time it feels like hearing his name coming from Derek's lips is the best fucking thing that's ever happened to him, it fucking hurts.

Because he has no idea if he'll ever hear it again.

Suddenly all Stiles wants to do is to get this fucking over it so they can move on to the part where Stiles tells Derek how he feels and Derek says he still wants him and Stiles throws himself at him and they make out and eat Mrs. Hale's sandwiches and cuddle on Derek's bed.

And then make out some more.

Not that the universe helps him when he finally gathers the courage to open his mouth and get on with the subject, only to hear a faint, "Shhh, I can't hear anything."

And a, "Are they even talking?"

Followed by a, "Shut the fuck up or they'll hear you."

Stiles' mouth snaps close with a click, just as Derek closes his eyes slowly and lets out a breath before looking skyward.

And looking equal parts pissed at the interruption and resigned, like he was expecting it.

And then he looks right at Stiles, uncrossing his arms to make a gesture for Stiles to come closer.

"What-," Stiles tries to ask as he starts walking, only to have Derek shush him and point a finger to the window.

That is open.

Stiles raises his eyebrows in question at him, blinking when Derek just tilts his head at him to follow as he turns and walks to it.

He purses his lips but trails behind, not that he has to take more than just a few steps for him to be by Derek's side, swallowing hard when their arms accidentally brush.

It's the first time they've touched in a week, and Stiles feels it in his bones.

One in particular.

That being his dick.

Who misses Derek the most, even though he's never had him.

But it's not just that, not just being sexually attracted to him.

Stiles misses cuddling on the couch while watching old shows and holding hands while they grocery shop and bumping their noses together before stealing kisses and sleeping in the same bed wrapped around each other.

He misses just spending time with Derek and slowly falling in love with him the better he gets to know him and just-

Stiles wants that back, goddammit.

But before he can dwell on that they're both sticking their heads out of Derek's bedroom window, looking down, and locking eyes with, well, everyone.

Aside from Mrs. Hale, who Stiles thinks is classy and doesn't eavesdrop on people.

Unlike them.

"Oh shit," Isaac says as he looks up, eyes wide in that deer caught in the headlights kind of way.

Only to have them snap back down when Cora pinches him in the stomach and hisses, "I told you they'd hear you."

"And I wouldn't have said anything if Erica hadn't started it," Isaac tells her, waving a hand at Erica.

Who loses the smirk she has aimed at Derek and Stiles when she turns to glare at Isaac.

"And that wouldn't have happened if I could concentrate on what they were saying and not Laura's heavy breathing."

"Excuse me?" Laura protests, gaping at her. "I do not heavy breathe."

"I told you we'd have better luck if we camped out in the hallway," Boyd pipes up, shrugging when everyone looks at him. "But no one listens to me."

Stiles just keeps staring at them at they all start to argue, fingers tapping against the windowsill, "Are they always like this?"

Derek sighs, deep and tired but still incredibly fond, "Yes."

Stiles makes a humming sound in the back of his throat, stepping back when Derek moves away from the window.

Not because he doesn't want Derek near him.

Or to accidentally brush against him.

It's just that, if that happens, Stiles will not be responsible for his actions.

Those being climbing Derek like a tree.

A very sexy tree.

Or just hug him and never let go.

Derek's fishing a pair of boots from under his bed before sitting on said bed, his back to Stiles.

Who takes his time watching him, taking in the span of Derek's shoulders and back, the muscles rippling under his shirt as he moves and slips his boots on, the flushed skin of the back of Derek's neck and ears that make Stiles want to taste and kiss and bite until Derek's blushing for a whole different reason other than embarrassment.

Stiles almost doesn't notice Derek getting up, too busy just standing there and staring at him, but he snaps back to attention as soon as Derek turns to him, expression now guarded.

And says, "C'mon."

"I- What?"

It's not Stiles fault it takes him a minute.

Derek's standing in front of him and it's been a week and he missed looking at him, okay?

He missed Derek gazing.

It's one of his favorite pass times and he's been deprived of it for seven days.

So it's kind of hard not to get his fill now that he cans.

Derek sighs, raising an eyebrow at him and glancing at the window before looking back at Stiles, "You don't want to have this conversation while my entire family can hear us, do you?"

Stiles opens his mouth.

And closes it back up.

Because no, he really really really doesn't want that.

He wants the opposite of that, actually.

"Lead the way."

Derek does, opening the bedroom door, Stiles following behind him, making sure to give Derek some space as they walk down the stairs together.

Because as much as he wants to plaster himself to Derek's back and never ever let go, he doesn't know if Derek feels the same, at least not yet.

So he'll keep his distance.

An arms-reach of distance.

You know, in case Derek does feel the same and then all Stiles will have to do is extend an arm and grab a handful of shirt or arm or neck or hair and pull Derek to him.

And kiss the fuck out of him.

And because that's what he has in mind, Derek and making out with Derek, Stiles might let out a startled yelp when he sees Mrs. Hale waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, jingling keys.

You know, might.

Not that anyone says anything or points out how jumpy he is today.

Which is understandable, really, considering the anxiety has had time to build up again and Stiles feels like he's going to crawl out of his own skin if he doesn't go somewhere quiet with just Derek and him so they can talk.

"You two can go to the bar," Mrs. Hale says as she throws the keys at Derek, who catches them in one-hand. "While I go yell at your friends and my daughters and remind them all that we're not a pack of wolves and I raised them all better than this."

Stiles kind of wants to hug her right now, but he doesn't know if Derek will appreciate the gesture.

"Thanks, mom," Derek mutters, ducking his head a little.

Stiles would be worried about that reaction - you know, the whole lowering his gaze and not making eye-contact and acting shifty thing - if it wasn't for the fact he can see Derek's lips pull up in a faint smile.

He doesn't know what happened between them, but in a way, it feels like Derek and his mother are a lot more comfortable and at ease with each other than the last time Stiles saw them both together.

He wonders what happened to result that change in their relationship.

And if Mrs. Hale thanking him before had anything to do with it.

Not that Stiles can see how he could possibly have done something to smooth Derek's relationship with his family, but it's not like he's been around for the past week to know if anything happened.

You know, other than Stiles and Derek finding out Allison has other family and this family is actually the person who used to date Derek and emotionally abuse him.

"You're welcome," she says, waving a hand at them. "Now go."

They don't waste time with goodbyes, mostly because Mrs. Hale turns her back to them right there and then, making her way back to the kitchen.

Stiles is still staring after her with his brows furrowed a bit in confusion, so he doesn't notice Derek staring at him until he says, "You remember where the bar is?"

"What?" Stiles turns to him, blinking.

"The bar," Derek says slowly. "Do you remembers where it is? You could follow me. In your car."

"Oh," Stiles says, and then shakes his head. "I don't- The Jeep- Isaac and Cora drove me here. My car's back at your- At the loft."

Stiles has to bite down on his bottom lip and clench his fists to keep himself from cringing at how fucking awkward he sounds, stuttering his way into an answer.

Kind of like Derek does sometimes.

But without the added cuteness, because Stiles thinks that adorable is the farthest thing he looks or sounds like when he's like this.

"I- Okay," Derek clears his throat. "You can ride with me then."

Stiles stomach does that swooping thing it does at the mention of riding, just like it did the first time he saw Derek when Lydia introduced them as partners for the Egg Run.

"Alright," Stiles rasps out, shaking his head to clear any thoughts of him and Derek from his mind. "Alright."

He needs to stay focused.

On right now and what's going to happen and what he needs to say.

And not fantasizing about Derek and the things he's always wanted to do to him and with him.

What he ends up doing is worrying about how he's supposed to survive the ride to the bar when riding in the back of Derek's bike, pressed against his back, his arms around Derek's waist.

And then he doesn't have to worry about that at all because Derek is directing him to the Toyota Isaac parked close to when they got to the house.

And isn't that a relief?

That now all Stiles has to do is sit in a car with Derek until they get to the bar while suffering in uncomfortable silence because what Stiles needs to tell him cannot be said while Derek's is driving.

Unless he wants to run the risk of getting into a car accident.

Which he doesn't.

He wants them both alive and well and with all of their limbs attached.

Stiles is fond of his limbs.

And Derek's.

Especially Derek's.

So he swallows down his anxiety - not that it helps much, and by that he means at all - and gets in the car with him.

The ride is actually more pleasant than Stiles expected it to be, but that's mostly because as soon as Derek takes off, he reaches a hand to turn the radio on.

Stiles decides not to feel offended by Derek obviously not wanting to speak to him until they reach their destination because he feels the exact same way.

What bothers him, though, is that the closer they get to the bar, the more Derek loses the relaxed posture and feel he had when Stiles met him at the house.

His face is closed off, the grip he has on the steering wheel tighter, and his face is drawn in tense lines.

Stiles gulps.

Because it feels like Derek is steeling himself for something, and Stiles has no idea what it is.

Actually, he has a few ideas, you know, based on what he learned this past week about Kate's treatment of Allison and how it might have been similar to Derek's and Derek reactions to certain things Stiles did or said when they were together.

None of those ideas are good.

But Stiles knows better than to assume things about people, so he tries to keep an open mind and not freak the fuck out about all of this again as they get to the bar and both he and Derek climb out of the car, walking up to the entrance.

Stiles' chest gets tight when he's faced with the place they had their first date only a few months ago, eyes raking over the space and throat closing up as his mind brings back the memories of that night.

The bar looks pretty much the same as it did back then, only with no a table set in the middle of the room and Stiles feeling like he's the happiest person in the world to have Derek do something as romantic as this for him.

Stiles wonders if his life will have more moments like that one.

If they'll work things out.

He hopes so.

He really fucking hopes so.

But judging by the way Derek's starting at him blankly as he moves around to go sit in a bar stool and gesture for Stiles to take the one in front of him, he has no idea how Derek will take things.

So he decides to cut his suffering short - not that it's been short, because it hasn't, not at all; it's been an entire week going half out of his mind worrying about this and feeling guilty about sharing Derek's history with other people without his consent and being miserable and feeling sorry for himself only to then feel like the worst human being in the entire planet when learning about Allison and what happened to her and how that might have been exactly what happened to Derek - and get to the point.

Only Derek does it for him.

And in the worst way Stiles could ever imagine.

By saying, "I'm sorry."

Stiles gapes at him.

He can't help it.

He gapes at him because he cannot believe Derek is apologizing for this, and then he has to swallow around the lump in his throat at remembering his conversation with Allison, remembering what he said to Derek that night in front of Danny's, remembering thinking Derek might see everything that happened as it being his fault for not telling Stiles who Kate was.

Derek takes his stunned silence as permission to keep going, eyes trained to his hands as he speaks, "I shouldn't have- I should have stayed and let you explain to me that you- And I didn't. I panicked and I ran and I'm sorry for-"

"No," Stiles says, slapping a hand over Derek's mouth and efficiently cutting off his apologies. "Nope. I'm not going to sit here and listen to you apologize to me, and do you know why?"

Derek shakes his head slowly, brows furrowed as he stares at Stiles, that lost look from a week ago back on his face, like he has no idea what's going on or why it'd be upsetting to Stiles listening to him say he's sorry about what happened.

Stiles presses his lips together, because he knows this is something that comes from Derek's past relationship with Kate, even though he doesn't really know what happened.

He knows Derek's feelings of unworthiness and thinking he can't do things right originated with her, and he feels sick to his stomach when seeing Derek react like that when he's with him.

And the promise he made to himself to prove to Derek that there's nothing wrong with him and to make him understand that he's a good person and Kate is the one that fucked things up and is fucked up is about to be put to test, because there's no way he's going to let Derek think he needs to be sorry about all of this.

"Because it was not your fault," Stiles says the words slowly as he stares at Derek straight in the eye. "You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, because you didn't do anything wrong. I completely understand why you felt like you had to- like you had to walk away from me, and I don't blame you for it. For anything that happened that night."

Stiles' voice cracks at the end, but he keeps his gaze trained to Derek's, making sure he understands what Stiles is saying.

Derek blinks at him a couple of times, eyes round, and tries to say something that gets muffled by Stiles' palm.

"Sorry," Stiles drops his hand, still tingling from the impression of Derek's lips against his skin.

Derek clears his throat a couple of times, eyes never leaving Stiles, and his voice sounds small and a little hesitant when he finally speaks again, "You don't blame me?"

Stiles curls his hands into fists to keep himself from doing something stupid like reaching out to him or punching a hole in the bar, settling for shaking his head and says with as much conviction as he can muster, "You have nothing to be blamed for because it wasn't your fault and you didn't do anything wrong."

He doesn't know what's going through Derek's head as he stares at Stiles like he's never seen him before, but whatever it is makes him close his eyes and let out a sigh of what Stiles thinks is relief, his shoulders slumping forward and he ducks his head and scrubs a hand over his face.

"I didn't-," Derek shakes his head, pressing the heel of his palm against his eyes. "You don't think it's my fault."

"Of course I don't," Stiles says softly. "If anyone should apologize for something, it's me."

"What?" Derek's head snaps to him, brows furrowed. "Why would you-"

"I should have told you the names of all my friends before dragging you out to meet them," Stiles tells him, looking away from Derek. "It was not fair to you to bring you to dinner having no idea who they were, and it's because of that you-"

"It's not your fault," Derek stops him, again staring at Stiles like he can't quite believe him. "I don't- I'm- It's not your fault. I don't blame you for that."

They stare at each other for a couple of seconds before Stiles lets out a low chuckle, shaking at his as he stares helplessly at Derek.

"We're quite a pair, aren't we?" Stiles says mostly to himself.

Because here they both are, blaming themselves for things that are out of their control.

He now understands what Cora meant when she told him they're perfect for each other.

Derek nods at him, licking his lips before he glances around the bar and says, "Isaac told me that, and Laura confirmed it, that you didn't know about- About her? That your friend never…"

Stiles lets out a shaky breath, because this is it.

This is why he came after Derek.

Well, this and because he loves him and wants to see if they can still work things out.

But mostly this.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually," Stiles says, running a hand through his hair. "Allison never told any of us, aside from Scott, that she had any family other than her dad, so until you told me about- Until you told me who your ex-girlfriend was, I had no idea she even existed."

Derek seems to relax even more at that, as if having Stiles confirm what his friend and sister told him is enough to take a little bit of the weight he's carrying off his shoulders.

And Stiles hates that he's probably going to ruin that when he tells him why that is.

"So you don't need to worry about her coming here," Stiles keeps going, kind of in a rush to get this out and make sure Derek knows he doesn't have to worry about this, that he's safe. "I went to talk to Allison after what happened at dinner and asked her about- About her, and Allison told me a little bit about what happened between her, her dad, and her aunt. That's who she is to Allison, her aunt. And Allison told me that they haven't had any contact with her since Allison was a teenager, and that if she knows what's best for her, she won't be coming here. Ever. And I know that's what you were worrying about. If you stayed here you'd run the risk of seeing her, or if we- If we stayed together you might bump into her because Allison's one of my best friends and she's supposedly family, but that's not going to happen. Because she won't be here. Not unless she wants to pick a fight with the hospital, the fire and police department, and Allison's dad. Scott's words."

And when Derek just looks at him without saying anything Stiles adds, "Except for the part about the police department. That's mine. Because if my dad gets wind of what she did, then he'll do everything he can to make sure she has a pretty uncomfortable stay in Beacon Hills."

He doesn't mention how his dad already knows about it.

Because Stiles told him about it.

Derek is still looking at him like he can't quite grasp all the information Stiles just dumped on him, so Stiles bites down on his bottom lip to give him some time and keep himself from saying anything else.

And the mentally prepare himself for the rest of this conversation.

"So they don't...," Derek trails off, frowning a little. "They're not close. At all."

Stiles knows it's a statement, not a question, but he still shakes his head and says, "Allison and her father hold no love for her. They might share a last name, but from what Ally told me she's far from being their family."

The thing is, Stiles doesn't really know if he needs to tell Derek about Allison.

He doesn't know if Derek needs to know the details, or if just having the confirmation that Kate won't ever be coming here is enough for him to let this go, no questions asked.

It might help him knowing there's someone out there who went through the same thing he did in the hands of the exact same person, but it also might make everything just a little bit worse.

So Stiles doesn't know if he should go ahead and explain to him why Allison and her father hate her aunt so much, or if he should just let it go.

In the end, Derek makes the decision for him, frown deepening as he looks hesitantly at Stiles before asking, "Why?"

Stiles lets out a breath.

And swallows hard.

And licks his lips and looks Derek straight in the eye and says, "It's not a happy story, and before I say anything about it I need to let you know that it might- You might-"

"It might remind me of some things," Derek finishes for him, expression haunted as understanding dawns. "And it might be hard for me to listen to."

"Yes," Stiles breathes. "So- uhm- you should keep that in mind. Before- If you still want me to tell you about it."

Derek goes quiet in the way that he does when he's thinking about something, and Stiles leaves him to it.

It's important Derek knows what kind of story Stiles will have to tell him before he makes the decision to listen to it, especially when the story will probably bring back some bad memories from what happened to him and the time he spent with Kate.

He needs to think about that and decide for himself if he can handle it.

So Stiles lets his eyes wander around the bar, the wall covered in picture frames grasping his attention just like it did the first and only time he was here, and gets a little bit lost in wanting to know the story behind all of them.

"I'll tell you about them," Derek interrupts him from his thoughts, making Stiles' gaze snap back at him. "The pictures. We'll need something else to talk about after you tell me about the Argents."

Stiles blinks at him a couple of times before nodding slowly, kind of torn between feeling ridiculously proud of Derek for wanting to know what happened and really fucking sad for being the one to tell him someone went through the same thing he did.

And also hating having to be the person to do it, because he knows this is going to hurt Derek, and that's the last thing he wants to do, ever.

But Derek wants to know, and Allison told him he could tell him, so Stiles will do as he asks and hopes this doesn't have that of an negative impact in the person he loves.

"Okay," Stiles says, mentally bracing himself for having the worst conversation he'll ever have with anyone in his entire life. "If at any moment you feel like I need to stop talking or you need some time to yourself or to think or to break something, promise me you'll tell me to stop."

Derek regards him for a few seconds before his eyes soften a bit - not enough that the dread and hurt disappear from his face -, making something loosen in Stiles' chest and get him thinking that maybe this will be okay after all.

Well, not okay.

But maybe it won't be as horrible as he's thinking it's going to be.

"I promise."

"Alright," Stiles lets out a breath. "Well, like I told you, Kate is Allison's aunt. She's Mr. Argent's little sister, and for what I understand she's a lot closer in age to Allison than she is to her brother. I don't know if you know any of this already?"

Derek shakes his head, eyes lowering when he says, "She never mentioned any family aside from her father. I guess she and Allison have that in common."

Stiles blinks at him, "Oh. Well, Allison said she never really had any contact with her grandfather. Her dad's relationship with him wasn't- I guess they didn't have a relationship, not really. And Allison said that's actually one of the reasons why her dad always welcomed Kate into their home. Because he wasn't particularly fond of his father and didn't like the idea of Kate spending time with him."

Derek's brows furrow a bit, mouth thinning, "She never- I know her father passed away a few months before my dad, and I remember her telling me how hard it was for her to have to handle the- the funeral arrangements by herself. And she always spoke highly of him and of how much she missed and loved him."

Allison's words come back to him, how she told him being around Kate felt like a gift she was being given, especially after all the times Kate deemed her unworthy of her attention.

If what Stiles thinks about Kate only following the cycle of abuse she found herself in because of her father, it doesn't surprise him as much as it should that she'd feel that way about him.

That she'd love him and look up to him and think he was a good person, because she never understood that the way he acted towards her wasn't right.

Much the same way Stiles thinks Derek loved Kate, even through all the horrible things she did to him.

"That's where she-," Derek starts, closes his eyes. "It was because of her father, wasn't it? That she was the way she was, did the things she did."

"I don't know," Stiles tells him honestly. "I don't know them to assume anything about their relationship or who they are as people, but Allison thinks so. She doesn't know her grandfather, but as far as she can tell about the bits and pieces she knows about her dad's history with him and how Mr. Argent didn't like having Kate near him, she thinks that's how it was. That Kate acted the way she did because that's how she grew up."

And Derek looks gutted.

Like hearing Kate was just a product of the environment she was raised in is the worst possible thing Stiles could have told him.

Stiles thinks he understands, a little.

Derek loved her once upon a time, and it always hurts knowing someone you loved had something bad happen to them.

He just hopes Derek's not thinking this excuses what she did to him.

Or to Allison.

That just because she was treated badly growing up, she can do that to everyone else she meets.

So Stiles goes ahead and says it, anyway, in case that's exactly what's going through Derek's mind right now.

"You know that doesn't excuse what she did, right?" Stiles asks him, eyes intent on Derek, who avoids his gaze and doesn't say anything. "Right?"

Derek opens his mouth and closes it again, eyes trained to his hands clasped in his lap.

Fuck that.

Stiles is not going to have this.

He's not going to let Derek think what she did wasn't bad just because she went through the same thing.

No, fuck you very much.

So he doesn't even think before leaning in and cupping Derek's face between his hands, raising his head so that they're eye to eye and Derek can see how fucking serious Stiles is about this.

"Having bad things happen to you doesn't excuse every shitty thing you do to other people," Stiles tells him. "Kate being abused by her father doesn't make the abuse she put you and Allison through okay. She could have broken the cycle, but she didn't. That's fucked up, and I'm sorry she never got the help she needed, but that doesn't mean you should accept what she did to you like it was something that couldn't be helped, like she didn't have a choice in the matter because that's what she grew up in. That's utter and complete bullshit. Allison grew up the same way because of her, and she's one of the most amazing people I've ever met. So no making excuses for Kate and her shit, because what she did was not okay. Growing up in a fucked up family or not, it was not okay. Do you understand?"

Derek's face is pale between Stiles' hands, eyes huge and a little lost as he stares at him, front teeth peaking out from his half-parted lips.

His voice is low when he speaks, almost like it hurts him to talk, "Allison?"

Oh shit.

"I-," Stiles' face twists as he mentally kicks himself for fucking this up, for dropping that on Derek's lap without some kind of warning.

Because it's one thing for Derek to know what happened to him, but it's another thing to find out it happened to someone else.

"Stiles," Derek's hands come to wrap around Stiles' wrists, holding him in place. "What happened to Allison?"

Stiles looks helplessly at him, lowering his eyes when Derek just stares right back.

"Derek-"

"I need to know," Derek whispers, eyes intent on Stiles' face as if willing him to open his mouth and spill it all out.

"I'm-," Stiles presses his lips together, before sighing and saying, "Are you sure? I mean. I just-"

Derek swallows hard, eyes blinking closed for a second before he opens them slowly, expression hardening as he shakes his head and croaks out, "I need to hear this."

"I- Okay. But I can stop if you need me to," Stiles mutters. "Just say the word, and I'll do it."

"I need to hear this," Derek repeats. "And then I need to tell you what- I need to tell you about what happened to me."

Stiles is pretty sure his heart stops in his chest before picking up beat again, only this time a lot faster.

He's not going to tell Derek he doesn't need to say anything, or that they can do this another time.

This has been a long time coming, and Stiles will leave it to Derek to know he's now ready to share that story with him.

So he just nods and says, "I'll listen."

"I know," and that soft look is back on Derek's face before it vanishes as he says, "Now tell me about her. Please."

Stiles nods, taking a deep breath and licking his lips as he tries to keep his stomach from churching as he starts speaking.

"Allison and Kate were close, when Allison was little," Stiles says, focusing on the warmth of Derek's hands around his wrists. "Like I told you before, Mr. Argent didn't have a close relationship with his father, so he always liked having Kate around his house, because then it meant she was away from their dad. Allison said that things weren't bad when she was a kid, but as she started getting older, Kate started- Well, she started getting meaner, I guess? Like, she'd make comments about Ally's clothes and looks and the way she presented herself to other people."

Stiles feels Derek's jaw clench beneath his fingertips, feels the ragged breath he lets out against his face, feels Derek's nails digging into his skin.

And he knows he just gained a little bit of knowledge about what Kate used to say and do to Derek.

Because, apparently, it was the same thing she did to Allison.

"Just say the word," Stiles whispers, eyes raking over Derek's face.

"It's okay," Derek says, voice cracking, and before Stiles can say that it obviously isn't, he adds, "It's not okay, but- But I need to know. I think- I just need to know.

"Alright," Stiles gulps. "Alright."

"Just-,"

Stiles' eyes follow Derek as he gets up and goes behind the bar, fishing two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from one of the shelves, before he settles them on the counter and sits back down on his stool in front of Stiles again.

Stiles doesn't know whether he should laugh or cry at that.

He decides to do neither, settling for opening the bottle and filling their glasses.

"Okay?" Stiles asks, nudging Derek's glass closer to him.

"Okay," Derek nods, but makes no move to drink.

Stiles decides to follow his example, even though he thinks he'd rather tell this story while numb from alcohol.

"Okay," Stiles breathes out, waiting for Derek to nod again before he restarts. "Well, Allison didn't really- She didn't go into details. She told me there were some things she wasn't comfortable talking to me about. But she said- She said after a while it got really bad. She felt like she couldn't do anything right, like the more she tried the more she fucked up. I think- I know this made her really anxious about being around Kate, she told me that much even though she didn't really go into specifics about it, but I think it got to the point where that started interfering with her health. Like, not just- not just mentally, but physically, too."

Derek's only reaction to that is the way his lips thin, but when he still makes no move to go for the glass - or entire bottle, really - of whiskey, Stiles keeps going.

"She said it was her mom who found out about what was happening," Stiles tells him. "That one day she came home early from work and heard Kate- The things she said to- And then that night her parents told her to go up to her room, and in the next morning Kate was gone. Allison said she never saw or heard from her again. And that's it. Well, I mean, that's what I know. About Allison. What she told me. And what I'm telling you now."

Derek closes his eyes after Stiles is done, his grip in Stiles' wrists so tight it almost hurts.

Stiles can tell this is Derek trying to calm himself down and process everything he just heard, so he stays quiet and lets his thumbs trace lightly at the stubble on Derek's cheeks.

The silence stretches between them, only breaking when Derek squeezes Stiles' wrists one more time before letting his hands drop and muttering a, "Fuck," under his breath.

Stiles also lets his hands fall to his sides, the skin tingling from the rasp of Derek's stubble, and before he can open his mouth to ask Derek if he's okay, Derek is grabbing his glass and taking a rather large sip of whiskey.

Well, that answers it.

"Derek?" Stiles tries, biting down on his bottom lip as Derek keeps his gaze locked on his glass, face a blank mask once again.

"I met Kate not long after my father passed away. Four years ago," Derek says, and Stiles goes utterly still in his seat. "She worked at the company with my mom, but in a lower position. I don't remember if she was- I don't remember if she was at the funeral, but the few of the times I stopped by my mom's office a couple of months later, I remember she would always be nearby. Dropping some files, leaving messages, getting staples."

Derek takes another sip of his drink, clearing his throat before he continues.

"The first time she spoke to me it was to say she was sorry for my loss," Derek says bitterly. "Everyone around the office knew about the accident because of who my mother was, so it wasn't really unusual to be there and have someone walk up to you and offer their condolences. Not that she did that, actually. She started by saying she heard about what happened. And that she had lost her dad about six months ago, so she knew that there was nothing she could say to me that'd make me feel better. So she offered to take me out and get me wasted, instead," Derek snorts, shakes his head. "I was so fucking relieved to have someone who understood how I was feeling that I didn't even hesitate before I said yes."

Stiles presses his lips together, his hate for Kate growing in intensity as he remembers Derek telling him about how she wanted something, saw the opportunity in him, and ran with it.

At knowing that said opportunity was Derek's grief over his father's death and how easy it would be for her to exploit that to her advantage.

"That's how it started," Derek tells him. "How we started. At first it was- I was just- It felt great to be around someone who didn't walk on eggshells around me. She helped me deal with dad passing away and learning to come to terms with him not being around anymore. I got- Well, I got better. So I have to give her that. Right after he passed away I wasn't really- I didn't really care anymore. And when I started to- When- Well, not when I came around, because the death of someone you love is not something you ever get over. But when I started focusing more on the good memories rather than the fact that he was dead, to say my family was thrilled was an understatement."

Stiles gets that.

It took him months to be able to think about his mother without having a panic attack, and it took him years to be able to talk about her without bursting in tears.

And Stiles kind of wants to wrap his arms around Derek's family and friends and hug the shit out of them.

Because even though he doesn't know them very well, or at all, really, he can still tell how much they care about him, how much they love him.

So Stiles can understand why they'd be so happy to see Derek happy.

"They wanted to know what changed," Derek says, eyes locking with Stiles'. "So I introduced her to them."

Which is why Derek was so hesitant to do the same thing with Stiles.

And it doesn't really tell Stiles anything he didn't figure out for himself already, but it's good to have that confirmation.

It also hurts.

"She fit right in," Derek continues, eyes lowering to his half-empty glass. "With my sisters, my friends, with mom and Uncle Peter. I think mostly they were just happy she made me happy, but the more time we all spent together, the more they ended up loving her. Just like I did."

Stiles tries not to feel jealous at that.

He really does.

It's ridiculous for him to feel threatened by her when she's obviously not and is never ever going to be a part of Derek's life again.

Because he can't help it.

He knows himself enough to know there's a part of him that's never going to be happy about knowing Derek loved and was in a relationship with other people before him, but that's something he's just gonna have to deal with.

Hopefully by being the last person Derek ever dates.

"Things were good for a while," Derek says. "We were- I was happy. With her. I just- I loved her, so I didn't see anything weird with us always being at my mother's house whenever she had one of her friends over, or Kate offering to be my mother's date at company parties or events she had to go to because none of us liked that stuff, or her going off to meetings with people she met through my mom, or spending a lot more time at work."

Stiles bites down on his bottom lip, wanting to say something or reach out to Derek and make the betrayed expression on his face disappear.

"But it seemed like- It seemed the more she got where she wanted," Derek says, stopping to empty his glass. "The more important friends she made, the connections, the networking. Getting invited to dinners and parties and events, not as a plus one for my mother, but just for herself. Having people notice her, her work at the firm, her potential. The more she climbed up, the worst she got with me. Because it was all about appearances, and for her I wasn't cutting it."

Just like Allison is what Derek doesn't say, but it's clear by his reaction to what Stiles told him about what happened earlier that they went through the same thing.

"She- What- I'm not-," Derek stops, bracing his hands against the wooden counter of the bar. "I don't- I don't think I can go into detail. About what happened. The things she said. At least- At least not yet. Not now. I don't-"

"Okay," Stiles says, voice coming out raspy from lack of use. "You don't- You- I'll tell you the same thing I told Allison. You tell me whatever you feel comfortable with, and I won't push. I won't ask any questions. At least not now."

Stiles can't promise later.

Mostly because he thinks they'll need to have a conversation about that after they've had time to think about and process all of this.

Derek looks at him for a beat or two before nodding, grabbing Stiles' still full glass instead of going for the bottle and refilling his.

"It was-," Derek starts after taking a sip. "What you said. About Allison. It was mostly the same. Comments here and there about how I should make a little more effort to dress nicely, or talk to people whenever we went out, or make a good impression. It was her constantly telling me I was embarrassing her in one way or another when we went out. That was it too much to ask for me to not fuck things up for her when she was talking to someone she thought was important? That couldn't I understand this was her job and she needed to look a certain way for people to take her seriously? Was I too stupid to get it? And didn't I realize how lucky I was for looking the way I do since I didn't seem to have the brains it took to be around her friends and colleagues? That if it wasn't for my pretty face or my hot body, I'd be all but useless to her?"

Derek spits the last sentences out like they physically hurt him, and Stiles knows for sure this is him spewing out the exact words he used to hear from her.

And suddenly a lot of things about Derek are starting to make sense.

Because if this was what he used to hear on a daily basis, if this is what she made him believe about himself, it was no wonder he always acted like he was expecting the other shoe to drop whenever he was with Stiles.

As if he wanted to make sure Stiles was with him because of who he was and not because of how he looked.

"It was like-," Derek says, voice cracking. "It was like I could never do anything right. And the more recognition she got from the work she did, the more people she met, the higher up in the company she went, the worse things got. It wasn't just about what I did or didn't do in front of people she thought she had to look good for. It was about how much of an issue it was to spend time with me. How she had too many things to do or was too busy or had a meeting with someone to bother to go on dates with me or visit my family or act like she cared."

Stiles' stomach churns as he thinks about the lost look on Derek's face whenever Stiles did something nice to him, like he didn't understand why it was happening, why he deserved it.

He always wondered where that feeling came from, why he saw things that way, and now he knows it's because Kate stopped bothering with the little things about their relationship in order to focus on her job.

Because that's what she wanted from the beginning, wasn't it?

A better job position, more connections, recognition, money.

"It was like being with me was a chore to her," Derek tells him, lips thinning. "Like it was something she had to endure to get what she wanted, where she wanted to be. The dates, the trips, hanging out with my family and friends, having sex, it was all an obligation to her. Something she did because she had to in order to get what she wanted, and not because she liked it or wanted to. It was all- It all meant nothing to her."

As Stiles listens to this, his mind goes back to the first night Derek stayed over, how he told Stiles the reason why he never initiated things between them was because his ex-girlfriend didn't seem to enjoy whenever they were together, and he was afraid Stiles would feel the same way.

Except being with Derek was all Stiles ever felt like doing.

Kate saw him as a job, as an obstacle she had to overcome in order to get to the finish line, and Stiles kind of wants to hunt her down and rip off her fingernails.

"No one knew about it," Derek keeps going, swallowing hard. "About what she did and the things she said. I never- I couldn't tell them. I wasn't- They loved her, and I didn't want them to blame me for taking her away from them. I thought they'd- I didn't want to know if they thought I deserved what I got from her, or having them be angry at me for being- For screwing up our relationship and fucking up things between them, their friendship."

Stiles' heart breaks for Derek.

For thinking he couldn't go to the people he loves most because Kate had already twisted him up inside so fucking much he couldn't see they'd never blame him for distancing himself from her and breaking off their relationship.

"We were together for about two years," Derek says, glancing at Stiles before looking back at the counter. "And we probably would have dated longer than that if I hadn't pocket dialed my mother while Kate was in the middle of- Well, I guess that's another thing Allison and I have in common. Uncle Peter got me out of there and into an empty apartment he had, as far away from her as we could get."

Derek takes a deep breath before he continues, expression darkening.

"But it didn't matter, because she got what she wanted," Derek spits out. "She got an offer from another company in the city to go work for them as a senior associate. More money, more recognition. Everything she worked so hard for. Everything she expected having a relationship with me and a connection to my mother would get her."

Derek shakes his head, eyes closing for a minute before opening again.

"Isaac, Erica, and Boyd came to stay with me at Peter's, because I didn't really- I couldn't face my family. Not after- Not when I still thought that-," Derek's jaw clenches, lips thin. "It took me a while before I could be anywhere near them again. But even then it was more because I knew I couldn't avoid them forever and not because I felt like I deserved to be in their presence. Because I didn't. I still felt like a fuck up, like a disappointment, like I wasn't anything good."

Derek chokes up on the last word, hand coming up to scrub at his face.

And Stiles can't take it.

He's actually really proud of himself for not having done anything sooner, but right now he can't help but get up and walk behind the counter and to Derek.

Only to hesitate as he reaches out a hand to land on his shoulder, not knowing if Derek likes to be touched when he's like this.

Derek's still not looking at him, face covered behind his hand, so Stiles lets his arm drop and does what he does best.

He talks.

"I said this before, but I don't know if you got it, so I'm going to say it again," Stiles tells him, swallowing hard. "None of this, none of it, is your fault. You didn't deserve the way she treated you, coming from a fucked up family or not. There's nothing you could have said or done that excuses what she did. Nothing. You-," Stiles' voice cracks. "You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met, and if I have to tell you that you're not to blame for any of this until I get blue in the face, I will. She was the one who did something wrong, not you. All you did was love her, and you should never be sorry or feel guilty for that. Never."

Derek still has his face hidden, but Stiles can see by the light tremors running down his arms and the shallow rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes that he's affected by Stiles' words.

"And you're wonderful, okay?" Stiles says softly. "You're loyal and bighearted and patient and cute as fuck and one of the sweetest and bravest people I've ever met. You love your family and you'd do anything for them and there's nothing wrong with you. There was never anything wrong with you. Do you understand?"

Derek gives a full body shudder before letting his head drop, head turning to the side just enough so when Derek looks up, he can lock eyes with Stiles.

"Do you understand?"

"I- I'm-," Derek blinks at him, jaw clenching as he croaks out, "I think I'm starting to."

Stiles' shoulders slump in relief at hearing that, eyes stinging with unshed tears at knowing Derek's coming to the understanding that none of this was on him and he's a good person.

"That's good," and isn't that the biggest fucking understatement of the evening. "That's really good."

Derek must agree, considering the way his lips curl up a bit at the corners and he lets out a huff, body relaxing little, and shakes his head, blinking up at Stiles.

They just stare at each other for a while, taking the other in, basking in each other's presence and the comfortable silence that follows after such a heavy conversation.

There's still a lot that needs to be said about what was talked about, a lot they need to discuss, but for now it's enough to just stand there and do nothing but share same air.

Until Derek moves to tug at the sleeve of Stiles' plaid shirt, tilting his head to the side and saying, "C'mon."

Stiles follows as Derek beings to walk, part because he's curious and part because Derek still has a hold of his clothing.

Not that he's complaining.

At all.

It's the opposite of that, actually.

Especially when they come to a stop in front of the wall covered in pictures.

Oh, right.

It's the first time Stiles has seen them up close, now actually being able to take his time staring at them and recognizing people instead of just blurbs that look like people.

Like Boyd and Derek wearing aprons, rolling something that looks like pizza dough, and staring blankly at the camera.

Or Erica sitting on the hood of a black Camaro sitting in a garage, lips stretched into a smile, while Laura leans against the side of it, arms crossed over her chest and head thrown back as she laughs.

Or a younger Cora in something Stiles thinks is a prom dress, the tips of her boots peeking out from under the hem of the skirt, with Isaac standing by her side, an arm thrown over her shoulders, both of them making faces at whoever is taking the picture.

There are a few pictures Stiles knows have been taken at the Preserve, but the house doesn't look anything like it does today and the people in it are not ones he recognizes. He figures they must have been of Derek's family before the fire, and his heart constricts in his chest as he stares at the smiling faces looking back at him.

Stiles grins when he zeroes in on a photo of teenager Derek, looking a lot less built then he does now but exactly the same, smirking at the camera and holding a basketball. He can see the shadow of someone creeping in the left corner of the picture, but they're too far away for Stiles to see their face.

There's also a photo of a much much younger Mrs. Hale - that Stiles only really recognizes because of the long black hair and the tilt of her lips as she smiles - straddling a bike, with a man that looks a lot like Derek sitting behind her, his arms around her waist.

"That's my dad," Derek says when he notices him looking. "This was right before they got married."

"He looks like you," Stiles says softly.

Derek nods, fingers coming up to trace the edges of the frame before dropping again.

"Mom was the one who taught him how to ride," Derek says quietly. "He wasn't really big on bikes before he met her. Thought they were too much trouble. Too dangerous. Mom likes to say she changed his mind by taking him on the wildest ride of his life for their first date. While dad used to say he took one look at her straddling a bike and holding at the handlebars and couldn't possibly leave her to ride alone in case she got hurt. Mom usually flicked his ear whenever he said that, like he wasn't the one who had more bike related injuries and accidents in the first couple of years they dated than she ever had in her life."

Stiles snorts, lips curling up in a smirk at the obvious lie Derek's dad used to tell.

It's obvious for anyone who meets her that Mrs. Hale needs absolutely no one to take care of her.

She's one badass lady.

"Dad was the one who came up with the idea," Derek keeps going, the edge of a sad smile playing at his lips. "He used to say mom's office at the company was too stuffy, too cold, too lawery. She needed some life in it. Something to remind her life wasn't just long hours and court days and unhappy clients. So he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of family into it. Every time he dropped by the office he would do it with a frame in hand. With pictures of our family before the- Before the fire. Of Laura, Cora, and I when we were kids, of them back when they used to date, of Uncle Peter and dad playing basketball, of old friends from Beacon Hills and new ones they made when we got to New York, and later on of Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, too."

"He sounds great," Stiles says, voice a little strangled.

Because his mother kind of did the same thing back when his dad was a deputy, filling his desk with pictures of the three of them together or Stiles' drawings from school.

You know, to remind him that he had to come back to them every night.

"He was," Derek nods. "When we moved here, mom wanted to keep the tradition. To bring a little bit of family to her workplace, never mind that Cora and Boyd are going to work here when the bar opens. So she set up the wall. With enough extra space to put up more pictures if we feel like it."

"It's nice," Stiles says, swallowing. "That you guys have this."

That in the middle of so much tragedy they were able to hold on to the good things and take a little bit of strength from it.

Derek nods again, jaw clenching as he lets his eyes wander over the collection of frames, sometimes lingering in the ones where his father is in.

"She never had one," Derek says a while later. "A picture on the wall. Kate never had a place in it. Even before- Even before things got… bad. She was never there."

Stiles thinks it's a little bit selfish of him to be happy about that, but that still doesn't stop him from feeling exactly that.

From being glad this is something she didn't get her hands on and turned it into another thing Derek thinks he did wrong, another thing he blames on himself.

He still doesn't say that out loud, though, just settling for staring at the pictures.

Because he doesn't know if he'll have another opportunity to do this, if he'll ever come back here.

Stiles knows it took a lot of trust from Derek's part to share his history with Kate with him, that it wasn't something that came easy to him, without a thought.

But as much as they've talked about that, they haven't talked about how things are or aren't between them.

And as comfortable as Stiles feels just standing here in silence with Derek, it kind of makes him nervous to not know where they stand.

Which is why he opens his mouth and says, "Derek?"

Right as Derek opens his and says, "But maybe you could."

And then as they both say at the exact same time, "What?"

"You first," Stiles says quickly, staring at Derek with eyes wide as he bites down on his bottom lip.

Because Derek said that maybe he could.

Which Stiles thinks means maybe he could have a picture on the wall.

Someday.

With Derek.

Because he wants them to be together enough to actually put up a picture.

In the wall.

With his family.

"I- You- Maybe," Derek stops, licking his lips as he stares back at Stiles with pure determination written on his face, as well as a little bit of wariness and hope and fear, like Stiles might not want whatever it is he has to say. "Someday, maybe you could. Be in a picture. With me. Here. If you- If that's something you still… want. With me."

Stiles opens his mouth to say that yes, oh my god, yes, but Derek runs ahead of him.

"I know we still have a lot to- to talk about. And I have a lot of things I don't- I'm- That I still have to deal with. But I'd like to have you. With me. During it," Derek tells him. "I have a lot of issues I don't- But I'm going to get help. I already- I have an appointment. With a therapist. So that I can- But I understand if- If you think it's too much. If you don't want to be with-"

"I don't," Stiles blurts out, and at the stricken look on Derek's face, he quickly amends. "I mean, I don't think it's too much. It's great that you're getting help. Fucking fantastic, actually. And of course I'll be there with you. For as long as you want me to. Because I do want to be with you. I mean, are you kidding me? All I ever want to do is be with you. All the time. This week when I wasn't with you? Not good. It was horrible and awful and terrible and I never want to go through it again. So yes. Yes. Yes, I want to be with you. And yes, maybe I could, one day, have a picture up there. With you."

Stiles doesn't realize Derek still has a hold of his shirt sleeve until he slides his hand down to thread their fingers together, thumb rubbing small circles against the back of Stiles' hand.

"Yeah?" Derek asks, as if needing more confirmation about the fact that Stiles wants him.

"Yeah," Stiles chokes out in relief, squeezing Derek's hand in his.

Derek' breath hitches as he leans into Stiles' personal space and drops his forehead against Stiles', their noses brushing.

This is the closest they've been to each other in an entire week, and Stiles is practically vibrating in place.

"I missed you, Bunny," Derek whispers against his lips, so fucking close but still not close enough.

"I missed you, baby."

And as Stiles slots their lips together, Derek's teeth biting down on his bottom lips as Stiles opens up and sucks Derek's tongue into his mouth, Stiles is really fucking happy he got Derek back.

---

a/n: stiles tells derek about the abuse kate probably suffered from her father and the abuse allison suffered from kate. it's a re-telling of the convo in chapter seven, so the same warnings apply: speculation from allison's part about the abuse kate suffered because she never knew her grandfather, and allison being subjected to degrading comments about the way she looked and acted.

and derek tells stiles about his relationship with kate: kate took advantage of derek when he was in a vulnerable state, playing with his grief over his father's death so she could get something she wanted. as their relationship progressed, the abuse started. it was mostly the same as it was with allison, with kate making comments about how much derek embarrassed her with the way he dressed or talked, objectifying him, and outright calling him stupid.

if you follow me on tumblr you know by now i'm going to be writing a halloween chapter in the near future. i'm accepting costume ideas. to all characters. you can leave a comment or message me on tumblr (my url is dylansneck). please. and thank you.