"Okay," Stiles closed the door to his room and turned to face Derek whose expression was far from enthusiastic, "You, sir, have some fucking explaining to do. Your uncle? Peter? Like the same uncle that bullied you in high school-"
"Yes, Stiles. The same uncle. He is the same person. Exactly. The. Same."
Stiles pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and sighed, "Interesting."
Peter Hale was more than interesting. He seemed like something poisonous that was should be kept behind glass in a locked room on display. The man moved like a cat, prowled around with his claws out, constantly begging for a fight and after the pilot had realized just who he was, Stiles had absolutely no desire to be near him.
Derek leaned against the dresser on the far wall as Stiles paced back and forth in the small space, "How- I mean, this doesn't even make sense, how did he become a part of...? Didn't you-"
"He's the one who got me recruited," Derek interrupted, watching as his co-pilot stopped and blinked wide-eyed at him, "Peter had been hired by Stacker when Jaeger pilots started to become more like celebrities than war heroes. Trust me, I wish he would have retired years ago."
Amber eyes rolled and he huffed an exaggerated sigh when his back hit the mattress and Stiles fell onto the bed, "Derek, he was really fucked up to you, can't you request someone else. Literally, anyone else to be our little spokesperson or whatever the hell he is?"
Stiles stretched out across the comforter and reached up to push his knuckles underneath his glasses and paw tiredly at his eyes. Peter had never done anything to personally make Stiles uncomfortable, he had only met the man a few hours ago, but the memories that Derek had shared during drift were enough to make the beta hesitant to trust the man.
Forest eyes trailed along the curve of Stiles' bare hip where his shirt had bunched up against the blanket, flicking down when the ranger rolled his ankle and pushed himself up with his hands, "Derek?" The voice was sharp, pulling the alphas eyes away to where Stiles was staring at him, open mouthed and waiting for an answer.
He swallowed uncomfortably, "No, kid-"
"What was that?"
Derek's jaw clenched, "No, Stiles, there is no other option. As much as I hate to say it, he's the best in the business. Besides, high school was a long time ago, things are different."
It was silent between them for a moment as Derek gritted his teeth and pointed his eyes safely at the ceiling while Stiles took in breath after breath, dissecting the situation. It wasn't the fear of what Peter could do and it wasn't the idea that he wouldn't do them justice when presenting them as a team; it was the thought that Peter had put Derek through living hell as a child and as much as Stiles didn't want to be affected by the memories, he was.
"It's late," Derek grumbled, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants, "Get some sleep, according to Peter we're moving into the apartment tomorrow."
The sudden tension in the room was palpable and Stiles chewed on the inside of his cheek as Derek walked towards the door. He was thankful that it had taken this long for an apartment to be made ready for them, but in the end a month still was not enough time for Stiles to get used to the idea of living with Derek. Scenarios stampeded through his mind and he winced when his teeth broke through the skin on the inside of his cheek.
"Meet me in the cafeteria at seven," Derek opened the door and looked to Stiles who peeked up at him over the rim of his glasses. He nodded and tongued at his cheek before shy eyes retreated to the floor.
When the door finally slid closed Stiles let a string of curses break into the open air. There had been things he wanted to say, issues he wanted to address, but like most situations, Stiles had choked and found himself sprawled on his bed, alone and awake with a plethora of thoughts he couldn't seem to suppress. Peter was the least of his concerns and it seemed like the only thing Stiles could focus on was the mortifying truth that he would have to share a living space with his co-pilot. The man who had turned his entire life completely upside down and had equally brought him a balance he didn't think would be achievable in a life-time.
The ranger anxiously ran his fingers through his hair and turned, closing his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing. His nerves were relentless and they pried at him for close to an hour before he fell into a restless slumber.
The morning came quickly and when Stiles' alarm rang throughout his room he peeled his eyes open and groaned into his pillow. "...Fucking kidding me," his words were muffled and he slid his arm across the expanse of his bed, swatting again and again until the tips of his fingers found the edge of his phone and he pulled it closer. It felt like he had only been asleep for a few minutes but when he looked at the clock it flashed 6:34 a.m.
Stiles wanted to tell himself that he hadn't dreamt, but the blush creeping across the bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks diffused his unspoken lie. His body ached and he put his hand on the nightstand to steady himself as he stood and walked to the bathroom. The dreams were different every night and sometimes Derek's past would leak into the confines behind his eyes. It was never the memories that bothered him though. Not the ones involving Jackson, nor the ones from Derek's childhood when his older sister would pinch the hair behind his ear or smoke would invade his lungs. No, it was Stiles' own thoughts that made him exceedingly angry.
He threw himself into the shower and lazily brushed his teeth before he finally slipped his clothes on and headed down to the cafeteria. His pace was deliberately slow and he found himself constantly wanting to turn back and hide behind the locked door of his room until someone came to find him.
"Not a coward," Stiles breathed, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, "Not a big deal. Gonna go do this and it's gonna be fine and I'm gonna be fine." He had talked himself through the entire trek downstairs and when he walked into the dining hall Stiles was greeted with the sight of Derek leaning against the far wall next to the entrance to the hangar accompanied by Peter and Raleigh. He swallowed down a shaky breath and tried with all his might to push the anxiety growing at the base of his throat into his stomach.
"Morning," Raleigh's rough voice was warm as he handed Stiles a cup full of fragrant dark coffee, "Your things are being collected right now, they'll be in the apartment by the time we get over there."
Stiles nodded and took a sip off his coffee, glancing at Peter who was typing some kind of long message on his phone. He heard Derek's shoes squeak against the floor and looked towards the alpha who was also drinking leisurely from a cup of coffee. It was early and it didn't seem like any of them wanted to be awake, but when Raleigh's phone rang he picked it up and nodded to the three men, waving a hand as he walked towards the hangar.
Stiles stayed next to Derek as they paced through the crowds of engineers towards the exit.
There were three separate apartment buildings behind the east hangar at Shatterdome. They were simple and towered over the rest of the base. Each one had its one helicopter pad on the roof along with a pool, private gym, and other generous amenities that Stiles had never imagined he would have access to. Peter sighed and gestured with his hand towards the third building, "Home sweet home. You guys have an apartment on the first floor per Derek's request. Go un-pack, get settled and I'll be back to brief you on the debut in about an hour."
Stiles bristled and he clenched his fists to keep them from trembling.
Raleigh swatted him playfully on the back, knocking a breath of air out of him, "Furniture isn't anything fancy so don't get excited." His mentor smirked and dangled a set of keys over Stiles' hand. He uncurled his fingers and the cold metal sent a chill running up his spine when they were set gently in his palm.
Peter and Raleigh were talking as they took their leave and Stiles' eyes quickly focused on Derek who had already started walking towards the two glass doors of the building. "H-hey, hey!" Stiles paced to catch up and stumbled over his words as he craned his neck to look at Derek, "You- did you seriously request the first floor because-"
"Yes," it was short and Derek didn't bother looking down at Stiles when he growled and bit down on his lip, "You didn't have to do that!"
Derek continued to walk forward and Stiles was momentarily distracted by the cream tile floor and the mirrored ceiling of the entry way. There was a small couch with two chairs in the lobby facing a small modern fountain attached to the far wall. There were three elevators on each side of the room and two hallways, one heading to the left and the other to the right. Derek walked to the left and Stiles clumsily followed, "Would you just-" Stiles voice was low and he huffed a sigh before finally catching up to his co-pilot, snatching his arm, "Stop!"
Green eyes shot up to Stiles as he pursed his lips, biting down on his words as they left his mouth, "I know you're claustrophobic and I didn't think you'd want to explain that to everyone so I-"
"Thank you," Stiles' voice was soft, softer than he had wanted it to be and the sincerity took Derek by surprise, "I just wanted to say thank you."
Derek watched him for a moment, studied the way Stiles' honey eyes shifted back and forth behind his glasses before he nodded, "Don't worry about it."
Long fingers un-curled from around Derek's forearm and they continued down the hallway until the alpha stopped abruptly in front of a large white door with the numbers 113 placed subtly above the doorbell. Intricate designs were carved into the frame and as Derek dug into his pocket for the key with his free hand, Stiles batted him away, "I have mine," he mumbled under his breath as he slid the key in and pushed the door open. The alpha stepped aside and let Stiles walk into the apartment first, smirking as wide amber eyes bounced around.
Stiles' bottom lip fell slack as his gaze drifted across the expanse of the open room. The floor was covered in sleek black tile and contrasted beautifully against the white walls. The living room was large, larger than he had expected, with a black leather couch, a matching recliner and a dark oak coffee table set dead center in front of a stone fireplace. A large fluffy white rug covered most of the floor where the furniture was and to the left was the open kitchen, sleek and modern with a large fridge and ebony counter tops. "Holy shit..." there weren't many other things that Stiles could have said in that moment that would have adequately described the feelings rushing through him. It was excitement bundled around shock and locked together somewhere between disbelief and fear.
He swallowed and continued to glance around, from the flat screen TV on the wall above the fireplace to the wood shutters that hung in front of the windows. It was hard to believe that anything around him was real, that this life he had plunged into was real, that the people he had come to care about were real.
That the man brushing passed him to walk down the hall was real.
"My rooms down here," Derek called over his shoulder, "Yours is down there."
Stiles looked over his shoulder down the hallway to the right and took in a shaky breath before picking up his feet to make his way to his room. Double doors opened up to the second master bedroom and the ranger felt his lungs tighten and constrict.
The tile ended at the frame of the door and was replaced by plush cream carpet. A large dresser was pushed against the wall and an all-too large bed sat in the middle of the room with two nightstands on either side. The furniture was all pale, ash-wood and the comforter draped across his bed was stained blood red. It was beautiful. Elaborate. Exquisite. And Stiles had no idea how to comprehend that this was his new safe place.
His hands wrapped around the picture frame set delicately on one of the nightstands and he blinked down at it through a melancholy smile. There was a walk in closet where his suitcase and duffle bag were neatly placed and passed it was a short hallway that led to a lavish bathroom. It had dual sinks and marble countertops, a walk in shower and a separate tub. Everything about it seemed foreign and unreachable.
Stiles dragged his fingertips across the countertops and jumped when he heard a soft knock at the door. Derek cleared his throat and peeked around the corner into the bathroom where Stiles stood, "So...?" his voice graced the silence, smooth and controlled, like it always was and amber eyes lifted to look back at him.
"It's..." Stiles let a shaky laugh fall over his lips and raised his brows, "It's amazing. This place is fucking... I can't even begin to explain-"
"I know," Derek's eyes closed and Stiles froze when a soft smile teased at the edges of his lips, "I felt the same way when I moved in for the first time."
There was something sad about the way that Derek looked at him, like he was torn between two worlds. The world he lived in with Jackson and the world he was living in with Stiles. The thought of it made the younger pilot squirm and shift to bite nervously on his nails.
It was strange, everything was strange and as much as he wanted to say that nothing made sense, it all did and that alone was more confusing than anything else.
"Hurry up," Derek's voice pulled him back and Stiles nodded, catching a glimpse of Derek as he walked back down to the other end of the hall across the living room and closed his own pair of double doors behind him.
Peter was bad but he wasn't as bad as Stiles had imagined he would be. The man was fashionable, witty and took sarcasm to an unreachable level but in the end he realized that the Hale's had more of an established family bond than he had thought.
"So," the older gentleman cocked a brow and looked to Stiles who was fiddling with a bottle of water, "Boyfriend, girlfriend, single, married, what?"
A blush bloomed across his cheeks and he heard Derek breathe out a sigh as Stiles stammered for some kind of stable response, "Well, uh, what does that- does it really matter-"
"Yes, it matters," Peter tilted his head to the side, deep aqua eyes fixed on the ranger.
"No, no... I'm single, excruciatingly single," Stiles took off his glasses and tried to keep himself busy with cleaning them so he would have an excuse to break eye contact with the man currently lounging in the recliner across from the couch.
There was a pause as Peter leaned his elbow into the armrest and tapped his fingers slowly across the line of his jaw, "And are we on team barbie or ken or do we play with both?"
Stiles obviously bristled as a laugh choked its way from his throat and he set his glasses back on his face, shooting daggers at Peter from his place on the couch next to Derek. His co-pilot's head leaned back and he rolled his eyes, teeth set hard against each other, "Really, Peter?" Derek's voice was heated and it made Stiles glance at him from the corner of his eyes. Peter held his hands up in mock surrender as his lips twisted into a Cheshire grin, "Hey, these are things I need to know. You're going to be in the public eye and I need to know if he's-"
"I'm gay," Stiles hissed, "and I'm single. I have no children out of wed-lock, I've never been married, I went to Brown University, my father is a retired Sheriff, my mother died when I was young and to get it out of the way I am completely free of any sexually transmitted diseases. Are we good or would you like to know what kind of shampoo and conditioner I use?"
Peter's lips pursed together and he hummed softly before pointing at Derek through a playful smile, "He's your co-pilot?" he smirked and gestured between the two, "You two? Raleigh let you two be in a room together?" His words were quiet and small spurts of laughter echoed between them, "I mean, are you guys like fu-"
"I will shoot you," Derek's voice was sharp and his teeth clanked together as he spoke, "and I will not feel bad about it."
"Talia will."
"Mom's not here, Peter."
"Oh, that's right, her and Cora are in Europe or something, right? Have you heard from them because we all need to go out and get a light lunch or-"
"Peter!" The volume in Derek's voice made Stiles' neck jerk to look at him, lips falling open as he watched the anger boil in the confines of his co-pilots body.
His uncle closed his eyes as his shoulders shrugged and he laughed silently to himself, "Alright, alright, Jesus, relax. Now, since Stilinski decided to supply me with more information than I needed, let's discuss the serious shit."
Derek breathed out a deep sigh and shifted to pull one of his legs up to cross over the other. Stiles swallowed uncomfortably and fiddled with his nail beds as Peter sat up straight and pulled out his phone, swiping across the screen a few times before he nodded, "Ah, yes. So, you'll be doing an interview with Dorothy Hamilton, you know her sad excuse for a political debate show?"
Stiles and Derek both nodded.
"She's going to try and ask you about how you feel about the progression of technology when it comes to the Jaeger weaponry and of course when you answer she will direct the question towards the Russians and-"
"Avoid any conversation about pilots dedicated to other countries at all costs," Derek interrupted, waving his index finger in the air, "Yes, Peter we're not stupid."
Peter rolled his eyes, dark lashes blinking again and again, "Are you ever going to grow out of being perpetually angry or is this just your default-"
"Peter," Derek warned through a growl.
Stiles shifted again, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as the two bickered. As uncomfortable as the situation had been, it was hard not to laugh because all in all Peter was right. Derek did need to lighten up when it came to most things.
"Okay, so Dorothy Hamilton at seven o'clock, that'll be on the fourteenth of September. According to the war clock there should be a breach about forty-eight hours before so that's when you two will go public, the interview will be your first debut and then of course the after-party will be held at..." Peter flicked his finger against the screen of his phone and squinted, "XS Nightclub at... The Wynn."
"Vegas?" Stiles' voice was choked and he sucked in a breath through his nose, "We're... This is happening in Vegas? Are we allowed to- I mean aren't we supposed-"
"There will be plenty of pilots here in case there's a freak breach," Peter raised his brows as Stiles stared down at his lap and sifted through one thought after another. "So, now that that's over. Ground rules," Peter's gaze flicked from Stiles to Derek and back again, "Don't be fucking stupid and get yourselves thrown in jail and that's about it. Anything else I can get you out of. If, however, you make a complete ass out of yourself, expect to roll with the persona of a complete ass because that is how I will sell you. I can polish, prim and beautify you to the nines but I can't fix personality defects," he gestured with his open palm to Derek, "Living proof of that is sitting on the couch next to you."
Stiles tried to stifle the small chuckle that fell from his mouth and licked across his lips when he looked over to see Derek, once again staring blankly at the ceiling. It was obvious that he wanted nothing more than for the conversation to end and for Peter to take his leave so he could retreat back into the room across the hall.
"He's not defective," Stiles mumbled softly.
Derek's eyes opened but he didn't move, he just breathed in and out in steady, long breaths.
Peter tilted his head to the side and blinked at the two before rising to his feet, "Well, anyways, Stiles," he extended a hand which Stiles gripped, "It's been a pleasure. I'm a phone call away if you need anything." The kindness in the man's voice seemed genuine and as much as Stiles wanted to hate Peter, there was something about the man that made him feel safe.
Maybe it was his degree in law, Stiles didn't know.
A strong hand clasped over Derek's shoulder and Peter shook him playfully, "Oh, c'mon," he purred through a small laugh, "I'm still you're uncle. Let's get a beer soon."
Green eyes lifted and he arched a brow, head jerking back slightly but Peter rolled his eyes and gripped harder, "Seriously." His voice was softer than it had been all morning and after a moment Derek nodded, "I'll call you." Peter nodded back and gave a two-fingered wave to Stiles as he walked down the short hallway and out of their apartment.
Their apartment.
The flood of nerves that had taken a hiatus during the painful interaction with Peter Hale cascaded back over Stiles like a tidal wave. It was quiet and he could hear the soft pull of air between Derek's lips as he breathed. He shouldn't be this bashful around the man who had been in his head, literally, more than a few times now. Derek knew more about him than anyone else ever would.
"I'm sorry," Derek's voice broke the silence and Stiles continued to look down at his fiddling fingers, "Peter's not... he's not that bad. It's just in his nature to be an invasive dick."
Amber eyes blinked up from behind the lenses of his glasses and Stiles nodded, "You don't have to apologize for him. Let's uh..." he glanced over his shoulder to the kitchen and pushed himself off the couch with his hands, "Let's see if there's anything in here to cook before we go train."
Derek respected the ranger's transition of subjects and nodded softly to himself as he heard the fridge open. He laughed silently as a grin spread across his mouth when Stiles gasped sharply, "Oh my god! Derek, holy... organic spinach, celery, carrots, mixed greens, peppers-" he opened the freezer and Derek audibly laughed as Stiles yelped loudly when a container of ice cream came toppling out. "Jesus, I haven't seen this much food in my entire life. I don't even know where to start," the pilot scrambled to pick it up and set it back in the freezer as he shot a smile over to Derek who stood and was rolling the sleeves of his shirt up passed his elbows.
"Move," he mumbled, shoving Stiles playfully away with his hip.
Stiles swayed on the balls of his feet and pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. He watched Derek carefully as he paced around the open space of the kitchen, opening cupboard after cupboard until he found a skillet and a bowl. It was strange to see the man in a domestic setting, to see him comfortable and calm. Things like Derek being able to cook were exactly the kinds of things that Stiles was afraid of.
His heart fluttered momentarily and he tried to swallow down the cluster of nerves crawling up passed his vocal cords.
"You like omelets right?" Derek blinked over at his co-pilot whose lips were slightly parted as he trailed his eyes from the socks on the alphas feet to the now bunched up material above his elbows. He shook his head once before nodding and raising a hand to rest over his mouth, "What? Yes. Yes, I like omelets."
Derek's lips curved up into the ghost of a smile and Stiles stared at the ground before he was once again pushed gently to the side, "I need to get in the fridge. Peppers, onions, cheese?"
"No cheese on mine," Stiles piped, tilting his head to the side as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the countertop next to a key rack hanging on the wall. Derek's eyebrows rose as he wrinkled his nose and shook his head back and forth, "What? You don't like cheese?"
"No, I love cheese. I just only eat it on the weekends."
"You're joking."
"No! I'm not genetically perfect like you, okay?" Stiles waved his hands in the air, "I stick to a diet during the week and I cheat on the weekends, a lot of people do-"
"You're weird."
"I'm not! Oh my god, I'm finally in somewhat good shape, I'd like to keep it that way."
Derek stopped whisking the eggs in the bowl and turned, his hand resting on the counter top, "Somewhat?"
A furious blush darkened Stiles' face and he stumbled over his words, "Y-yeah, yes. Yes. Somewhat. I'm not like-"
"Shut up," Derek barked a laugh and squeezed his eyes shut as he turned back to what he was doing and continued to shake his head and laugh when Stiles tried to object.
He didn't quite know if his co-pilot had just complimented him or insulted him but Stiles adjusted his glasses and huffed a breath as Derek cooked before walking over to the small breakfast bar that distinguished the living room from the kitchen. He hoisted himself into one of the modern black chairs and propped his elbows up on the counter to rest his chin in the palm of his hands.
Stiles didn't want to watch the way Derek's sweats hung off the line of his hips, he didn't want to smile at the way he scratched at the scruff on his face while he poked at the eggs sizzling on the skillet and he most definitely did not want to watch the way his co-pilot ran his fingers up through the back of messy dark locks.
"So you seriously do not want cheese-"
"Derek!"
The alpha laughed and slid the fresh omelet onto a square dish before he placed it in front of Stiles. Amber eyes grazed across his breakfast and he forked a piece into his mouth as Derek ate his straight from the skillet, "It's really good but- hey! Really? Were you raised in a barn, what the hell are you doing?"
Derek's eyes flicked back and forth before he took another bite and shrugged, turning his back to Stiles and ignoring him completely.
"The man who won't eat cheese during the week," Derek picked up the skillet by the handle and glanced over his shoulder, "is asking me what the hell I'm doing."
Stiles growled a curse at him, "You're rude and you have no manners," the pilot hissed, but Derek wasn't listening and he kicked the doors of his room shut, leaving Stiles to eat on his own.
Their training session went by smoothly and quickly, Stiles ran on the treadmill and stretched while Derek sparred with Allison on the mat in the middle of the room.
He wanted light-weight thoughts, thoughts of Danny, of Brown, of his father and the small house he had in Malibu. He wanted to focus on his friends, on Erica's sassy smile and Scott's witty attitude. Stiles didn't want to be stuck in the round-a-bout that circled the overwhelming reality that soon, very soon, he would be face to face with a Kaiju.
A real Kaiju. Not some hologram in the simulation room. A beast sent from another dimension to try and eradicate their species. Stiles pressed the button on the treadmill and sprinted faster.
His stomach was in knots and he could feel the unsettled panic squirming in-between his ribs, rubbing across his kidneys, curling around his lungs and squeezing. Blunt teeth dug into his bottom lip but released soon after so Stiles could continue to suck in breath after breath. Fear wasn't something he typically had a hard time over-coming and usually it only took a few messy pep-talks with himself or some kind of push and he would be fine. He would walk into whatever it was with an open mind and listen to the echo of the two words that got him to Shatterdome in the first place.
What if.
But this was a Kaiju, and in the end, Stiles knew that nothing would stomp out the fear radiating from within him.
"Hey," Allison's voice interrupted the song by Seven Lions that was beating into the speakers of Stiles' headphones and he slowed his pace before stepping onto the padded ground.
"Hey," he nodded, sucking in air to catch his breath before he placed his well-worn black rimmed glasses back on his nose, "What's up, where did Derek go?" He squinted and shifted to look passed her but there was no sign of his co-pilot in the gym.
The combat specialist shrugged, "Apparently he's going out with Peter for a drink or something."
Stiles blinked as his head tilted to the side, "Oh," he pursed his lips and his eyebrows pulled together, "Okay. Well..." Long fingers moved to rake through his hair and the ranger chewed absently on his lip but Allison poked him in the stomach, "I don't know if you're interested but Lydia and Newt have some information on the Kaiju that they'd be more than happy to share since you'll be out on the field soon."
He shifted uncomfortably at the thought but nodded, "You think it's a good idea?"
Allison nodded, "Raleigh wants you to get to know Kaiju anatomy anyways since you'll be analyzing their vocal patter."
A chill ran down the length of Stiles' spine and he sucked in a long breath through his nose when he finally noticed the burn in his lungs and remembered to breathe. He had completely forgotten, completely dismissed the thought that he was more than just a Jaeger pilot. Stiles had skills that Raleigh and the Marshalls wanted to put to use, comprehending that thought was much more than he could handle.
"I, uh... I forgot, about all of that," Stiles tried to feign a laugh but it came out forced and deliberate. Allison's soft hand rested on the base of his shoulder, "Don't worry," deep brown eyes locked onto his, "You'll be fine and Raleigh doesn't expect you to get it right off the bat. Just focus on getting through your debut."
Stiles breathed out through his mouth and nodded shallowly as she continued, "The things Lydia and Newt study will still be helpful," her smile was soft and she pulled him gently as they walked towards the doors of the gymnasium, "every Kaiju is different but having some knowledge of their past weaknesses can be good to know."
Stiles said nothing, just nodded dumbly and tried to keep his hands from shaking as they walked down the hall.
"You think he's ready," Peter's voice was like silk and he glanced at Derek over the scratched up wood table top of a booth in a bar just outside of Shatterdome. The older man lifted a green bottle to his lips and arched a brow when Derek didn't respond. "Hey, c'mon," he reached over to push his nephews shoulder, "stop shutting me out."
The pilot tapped his fingers against the glass of dark liquid on the table and shook his head, "I don't know," his voice was soft, "I don't know if either of us are ready."
Peter's eyes softened and he tapped on the table, "Hey, Derek, look at me."
The pilot's eyes lifted as he bit down on the inside of his lip and continued to run his fingertips across the rim of his beverage. It wasn't just Stiles who wasn't ready for this. It had been close to a year since the last time Derek had been inside a Jaeger and that experience had driven him to do things he never thought he would be capable of. He had never once thought that packing his things and running back home, leaving behind the people who had been there for him through so much would even be an option. But after that last fight. After Jackson... Nothing seemed more appealing.
"You're one of the strongest men I know, and one of the best. You've been through a hell of a lot, but," Peter offered something of a smile as he rested his elbows on the table, "You can't keep punishing yourself. What happened on K-2-"
"What happened on K-2 didn't need to happen. Jackson didn't deserve- I should have-"
"Oh, shut the fuck up, Derek," Peter leaned back in his seat and waved to the cocktail waitress, gesturing to his beer and thanking her when she dropped another off at the table, "it was a double event that no one was ready for and they sent you and Gipsy out blind. What happened was no one's fault."
Derek's lips pursed into a thin line as his eyes retreated back to the table before he took a long sip off his drink. He wanted to be angry; he wanted more than anything to have the strength to slam his fist into the side of Peter's face, but it was true. Every word. It wasn't anyone's fault that Jackson died and Derek didn't have any argument for that. The restless feeling in his bones was something else, though. Something that made him believe that it should have been him lying on the beach on that cold September morning, and it should have been Jackson that lived.
The thought felt like burning coals behind his eyes and he swallowed, "I know," his voice was raspy and he looked at Peter who blinked back at him and nodded, "I know you know, that's the most frustrating thing about you. You're smart and you've got character, you just keep yourself all-"he waved his index finger lazily, "locked away."
Derek simply nodded and stared at his phone when it vibrated on the table.
Stiles Stilinski Septermber 1, 2031, 5:02 P.M
You doing okay?
Jungle eyes flicked back and forth across the screen before Peter cleared his throat and he glanced up.
"Stiles?"
Derek nodded before he picked up his phone and typed out a quick 'yeah' and hit send.
"That kid's got a fire in him," the older Hale watched Derek from under an array of dark lashes, "maybe he'll be able to thaw you out."
The pilot snorted and rolled his eyes even though the words made his insides constrict. The alpha cracked his knuckles and shifted in his seat when he sat the phone down, only glancing up once to find Peter's eyes settled on his phone as well. His uncle tapped against his chin, a sigh falling across thin lips, "Could be fate, you know, Becket dragging you out here to meet this kid, finding you a new co-pilot, getting you back out there. It might be destiny." His words were playful and he arched a brow when Derek sat back in his chair and set his glass back against the soft pout of his bottom lip.
"Fate's a bullshit concept, and destiny? Destiny's a blind man's promise to civilians," the pilot muttered, before he blinked down and trailed his eyes across his phone as it lit up again.
Stiles Stilinski Septermber 1, 2031, 5:11 P.M
If you need an escape plan feel free to use me
Derek couldn't help but smirk and looked back up to Peter through a small smile that pulled at the edges of his lips, "He's not a kid."
Stiles let out a puff of frustrated air as him and Allison made their way towards the back of Shatterdome, passed the storage units and to the array of laboratories that occupied the far end of the large base. Dark brown eyes blinked at him questioningly and the beta simply shook his head, "I ask him if he's alright and all I get is 'yeah.' Not that I should really be expecting much, the guy's like talking to an iceberg sometimes."
Allison's eyes rolled and she shook her head, loose brunette curls bouncing around her shoulders, "He's quiet and stubborn, but he'll open up. It just takes time and patience, I mean, when I met him he was shy and a lot younger but after a while I guess I grew on him. You'll see," she winked and Stiles narrowed his eyes.
"I think I've heard him laugh like four times, Allison. Four. Maybe five, but that's a stretch," he chuckled through the last few words and she nodded, a 'yeah, yeah' slipping casually from between her lips, "I know, I know, but like I said, give him time. He has his moments and we've all had a lot of fun together in the past, a lot of things just… fucked that up."
He nodded and shrugged before heaving a deep sigh, "I understand… I've been there, I felt it," he choked on a couple words and the field specialist nudged his shoulder, "I know you have," she whispered gently, "and he knows that. He's just… he's still feeling it every day. I see it every single time I look at him and it makes me… it hurts. It hurts more than I thought it would."
Stiles blinked and tilted his head to the side, apologizing quickly to a woman in a lab coat that he accidentally bumped as they walked down a now stark white hallway, "What do you mean?"
Allison's shaky breath was a warning but she shook her head and played with the edges of her tank top, "He was always the strong one. The grounded one. It's just hard to see him torn up over something that wasn't his fault. It's… it's hard for me to see him still be so affected and to know that I have no idea what he's feeling." She glanced up at Stiles whose lips were parted and he reached up to fidget with his glasses, now quite ashamed of his curiosity.
He wanted to press, to tell her everything inside Derek's head, to give her the insight that was obviously taking a toll on the woman's emotions, but the ranger stayed quiet. It was natural for her to want to share Derek's pain, to take some of the load but Stiles knew those emotions, felt that guilt, lived that remorse and he knew that in the end it was better to keep it locked away in the archives where Derek lingered day to day.
The lab wasn't what Stiles expected. He arched a brow as Allison pushed the door open and ushered him inside to a dimly lit dark room. Large glass enclosures filled with preserved Kaiju flesh and organs were scattered around the expanse, along with smaller test tubes containing Kaiju blue, nail clippings, eyes, scale shavings and a few other things that Stiles couldn't make out. He wrapped his arms around his chest and Allison's eyes flicked up to his when he brushed against her, "You okay?"
"Absolutely not. What the fuck is this shit?"
Soft laughter interrupted them and he heard the swivel of a chair from behind a stack of paperwork, "I felt the same way when Stacker brought me back here for the first time," Lydia craned her neck and offered a wide smile, "There's nothing like Kaiju intestines to go along with your Christian Dior manicure, right?" She picked at her nails through a small chuckle and stood up, heels clicking across the floor as she walked towards them.
"You work back here?" Stiles' brows furrowed and he tilted his head to the side in an attempt to put together how someone like Lydia could possibly work in such a strange environment, "I mean, what do you-"
"Well after I graduated from Berkeley, Stacker found out I had my Masters in Folklore and he helped me get my P.H.D in Mythological Studies while I assisted Newt on the progression of Kaiju studies. That was before he passed away…" her smile faded momentarily and she tapped on the glass of one of the large enclosures.
A tentacle slapped against the side of the tube and Stiles squirmed, covering his mouth, "Yeah, that's not okay…"
Lydia rolled her eyes and tapped gently, cooing softly, "It's harmless, Stiles. But, anyways, I'm still working with Newt and I've put together a few theories but nothing solid. Ancient scribes and manuscripts all talk of beings that come from the sky, not from the sea, but," she held up an index finger and walked over to the desk she had been seated at before. It was covered in designs, folders, papers and… Stiles, squinted, pulling Allison with him as he followed Lydia, "Is that… That's Latin, isn't it?"
The red-head blinked as cherry stained lips pulled into a half-smile, "Yes, it is, and I've been trying to figure out what it means, because it means something, but here look, the ancient Samarians carved hieroglyphics into the walls of their caves, I actually just got back from another trip out there," she narrowed her eyes and shuffled through a few papers before snatching one up and nodding, "This is what I found."
Stiles took the paper carefully and pushed his glasses up, "These are the hieroglyphics?"
She nodded and Allison curled a hand over Stiles shoulder, leaning up to peek over at the paper as well. The pictures were clear and Stiles glanced across the carvings before amber eyes moved to the photo-copied Latin scribe pinned to a board above the desk.
"These," Allison reached over and pointed to what looked like stick drawings of human beings, "and then… dinosaurs-"
"That's what we thought, that was until Newt," her voice deepened and she yelled over her shoulder, "drifted with a god damn Kaiju-!"
"Shut up Lydia!" A squeaky voice called from a room connected across from Lydia's desk. A head popped out from around the corner and Newton Gesizler's eyes crinkled behind his glasses from the large grin that occupied most of the room on his face, "I made history and there's nothing you can say that will make me regret it."
Lydia's mossy green eyes rolled and she sighed, pointing back to the paper, "Anyways, that is what we thought but-"
"But!" Newton darted to the woman's side and Stiles arched a brow, glancing at Allison who held her open palms flat against her chest, "He's a little eccentric," she whispered against the rangers shoulder through a stifled laugh.
"They weren't dinosaurs, not all of them at least. From what I saw and from the… well, the PTSD-"
"Back-lash," Lydia bit, eyes pointing from Newton to Stiles and back again. The scientist paused slightly and they both turned their focus to the beta who blushed and ran his fingers through the hair on the back of his head, "I'm not offended, just- and then what? What did you see?"
Stiles bit down on the inside of his cheek and shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants to conceal the nervous tick that radiated through his fingertips. Post traumatic stress disorder. That wasn't a term most people used on base and to think of back-lash as something so real-world and categorized made him feel like he should be medicated, socialized, normalized. Something about it made the terminology instill the idea that he had already been damaged. Like the war that he had yet to step into had already broken him.
"Well," Newt walked over and leaned against one of the large enclosures and turned a knob on the top of the tank to the left which made the sallow light illuminating the floating organs turn a deep red, "This is part of a Kaiju's second heart, if you look closely you can see that-" he pointed to a deep cavity that was compressing bubbles of ammonia-infused water with soft erratic movements, "it's damaged. And it's not damaged because of how we removed it."
Allison's eyes widened, "It's damaged because it's a replica of-"
"Yes!" Newton was much too excited and he pointed his index finger at her through a shout and a laugh, "They are simple designs, tweaked and modified from the original blueprints to simulate the Kaiju that have already been here years before."
Lydia's heels tapped against the floor and she nodded when Stiles looked over once more to the script on the wall, "But… they evolve each time. They mimic our weaponry."
"Exactly," Newt and Lydia spoke in time and the small man glanced over at her before arching an eyebrow, "The same way they mimicked the hide, bone structure and force of the dinosaurs and the animals of today. The only thing that's different-"
"They all have oceanic qualities," Stiles breath was shaky and he un-pinned the manuscript from Lydia's work board, eyes trailing across the foreign words. He read them again and again, piecing the letters together like a puzzle and inhaled sharply through his nose when he finally realized what he was reading. "This is just a copy, right? What's the original from?" Stiles blinked over to Lydia who shrugged, "Pentecost gave it to me when I first started, he said it was a reminder to have faith."
Stiles cleared his throat.
"The beast from out of the sea is given authority to rule over the earth, the people of earth marvel the beast's abilities and worship him and 'the dragon', saying 'who is like the beast? Who can make war against him?'" Amber eyes lifted to Newt whose smile had faded and Allison's eyes narrowed, "You can read-"
"World language major, Allison. Remember?" Stiles mumbled, pinning it back up to the board.
"That's from the bible," Lydia breathed, looking to Newt through parted lips as he tilted his head to the side and rolled up the sleeves of his long sleeved shirt to expose the intricate tattoos carved into his flesh.
"Revelations," Allison added as she handed the picture of hieroglyphics back to Lydia. It was silent for a moment, an eerie quiet that made Stiles want to barricade himself in his new room and blast music until he forgot all about what was going on in the world. The more real it became, the more he realized that no matter how glamorous the job, being a Jaeger pilot meant defeating Kaiju, and that biblical verse did nothing but remind him of how human they all were.
Newton's eyebrows lifted and he clapped his hands together, "Well, that's weird and really, really fucking creepy, but I don't have time to WWJD this whole situation, right now me and you-" he pointed a finger at Lydia, "Need to show mister…" he waved a hand at Stiles and narrowed his eyes.
"Stiles," the pilot sighed as his gaze rolled towards the ceiling.
"Now we need to show Stiles what these beautiful monsters are made of."
To: Derek Hale
From: Stiles Stilinski September 1, 2031, 6:14 P.M
You did not tell me that you got bit by one of those Kaiju flea things before
To: Stiles Stilinski
From: Derek Hale
September 1, 2031, 6:17 P.M
Shut up.
To: Derek Hale
From: Stiles Stilinski
September 1, 2031, 6:21 P.M
nothing to be ashamed of, just a little alien tick. no biggie.
this Newt guy is all over the place, has he always been like this?
To: Stiles Stilinski
From: Derek Hale
September 1, 2031, 6:23 P.M
Yes.
To: Derek Hale
From: Stiles Stilinski
September 1, 2031, 6:26 P.M
you're so good at conversations, Derek
To: Stiles Stilinski
From: Derek Hale
September 1, 2031, 6:31 P.M
Shouldn't you be paying attention?
To: Derek Hale
From: Stiles Stilinski
September 1, 2031, 6:34 P.M
he's just going over basics, aquatic tendencies, old Kaiju tactics from Otachi, Knifehead, you know
To: Stiles Stilinski
From: Derek Hale
September 1, 2031, 6:46 P.M
When will you be home?
To: Derek Hale
From: Stiles Stilinski
September 1, 2031, 6:47 P.M
awww, are you cooking again? :]
To: Stiles Stilinski
From: Derek Hale
September 1, 2031, 6:51 P.M
No.
To: Stiles Stilinski
From: Derek Hale
September 1, 2031, 6:52 P.M
I'm ordering Pizza.
Stiles frowned at his phone and wrinkled his nose as him and Allison stood in the large dark laboratory. Newt had drilled into his head over and over that there was no strategy for overcoming a Kaiju because of their ever-evolving body types but Lydia assured him that she would do her best to find out whatever she could by the heat signatures and sonic waves produced by the breach. Sometimes she could get outlines, she called them echoes, of the beast before it surfaced. Almost like an imprint or a silhouette. The PPDC had placed a machine on the bottom of the ocean near the breach that used sonar to beam out signals and capture whatever impression vibrated back.
"So all this talk about Dinosaurs, is Newton trying to prove that there was more than one breach…?" Allison tilted her head to the side and looked to Lydia as she walked back into the room. Bright eyes blinked from under long mascara coated lashes and the red-head shook her head, "Oh, no. That would be my theory."
Allison stumbled over her words and Stiles' brows furrowed but he nodded and reached up to snatch the glasses off his face and clean them with the tail of his shirt, "It only makes sense. When you think about it, if these… things, did breach millions of years ago than wouldn't the remains be more marine based if they had crawled through a hold in the Pacific Ocean like they are now?"
The combat specialist sighed softly and watched Stiles as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his back against one of the large enclosures.
"It does make sense but what would have-"
"The comet. A dramatic shift in the climate and environment could have easily forced the window to close and besides, like Newton said we hadn't contaminated our atmosphere to their liking yet. As soon as they noticed that we had fucked everything up enough they pushed through again, this time hidden in the sea."
Allison couldn't argue with Lydia and she nodded along with her words as the woman pulled out a Top Shop lipstick and smeared it across her mouth.
It was hard to imagine, to think that the human race had been on the edge of world domination since they drug their knuckles out of the caves. Stiles swallowed painfully and stared at the ground, pushing his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. It was a jagged pill to swallow, a filthy, hurtful, horrible pill. To know that in the end Stiles could be fighting an unbeatable war. An unresolvable cause.
"Well, apparently Derek's ordering food so I'm gonna head home," the last word dropped in his stomach, home, it still hadn't quite settled that it was so permanently attached the Derek. His ribs squirmed and he shifted uncomfortably, leaning off the tank in time for a large textured tentacle to slap noisily against the glass. Stiles jumped, a few curses falling from his lips before he thanked Lydia and called a 'thank you' to Newt who was working in the other room.
"Anytime! If you ever need to talk-Kaiju with anyone, I'm always in here!" The high-pitched voice hollered back and Lydia rolled her eyes, "He's not kidding, he's always in here. He doesn't leave."
Newton yelled something at Lydia who continued to shake her head back and forth while sporting an all-knowing witty smile. Allison hugged her goodbye and walked with Stiles out into the hallway.
The tired ranger pulled his fingers messily through his hair and smiled sheepishly as Allison wrapped her arms around his torso and shook him playfully, "Is Derek ordering pizza?"
Stiles' eyes narrowed and he snorted, "How'd you know?"
"It's a staple food in his diet."
The ranger groaned and swayed Allison back and forth from foot to foot, "Well, looks like I'm gonna have to get used to the smell of calories then," he arched a brow and she nodded through the ghost of a grin before he released the woman and turned to head towards the back exit of the base, "I'll see you later?"
He glanced over his shoulder and the brunette nodded softly before heading back into the lab to find Lydia.
Thoughts swarmed his mind like a hive of bees with the static of words being replayed again and again between his ears. From the theory that Kaiju could have, at one point, breached on land, to the idea that he would be in a Jaeger in less than two weeks and then the reality that while in the Jaeger, Stiles would have to analyze alien vocal patterns was a lot to take on. The pilot hadn't felt as out of place as he did in that moment, walking across the asphalt towards the three tall buildings settled on the outskirts of the base, since he first stepped off the plane and arrived in Hong Kong. Stiles shook his head before he breathed out a small sigh and pushed open the glass doors, glancing at the lobby as he paced down the hall towards apartment number 113.
Their apartment was quiet when Stiles walked in and rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses as he glanced around. Two pizza boxes sat on the counter top of the breakfast bar and a soft melody drifted from down the hall where Derek's doors were cracked open.
He was hesitant as he followed the sound and kicked off his boots before he peeked his head around the door and let his eyes drift around the room. It was moderately the same layout of Stiles', except Derek had a small private patio where he was currently sitting with his feet propped up on the wall and a book in his lap. Small ferns and plants were set around the quaint outdoor expanse and Stiles listened as his co-pilot sang along quietly to an old song by an artist he used to listen to in high school.
Stiles feet padded softly against the carpet and amber eyes moved over the dark comforter on Derek's bed to the black furnished lamps on both night stands. The sliding glass door was open, letting a crisp breeze float through the room, Stiles cleared his throat, "I didn't know you listened to Wild Cub."
Derek jerked, jungle eyes wide and alert as he inhaled a sharp breath and exhaled it as a sigh, eyelashes lowering when he shook his head back and forth. Stiles arched a brow, "Didn't mean to scare you," his voice was low and he leaned against the glass door, smirking when Derek rolled his eyes and folded the corner of a page in the book he had been reading, "You just startled me- and yes, Raleigh got me into them a while ago." The alpha stood and brushed passed Stiles, glancing over his shoulder to watch as the younger pilot bent down to brush his fingers across the leaves on one of the potted shrubs Derek had on his patio.
"I got you pizza," Derek's voice was smooth but he looked at the ground when Stiles lifted his chin and glanced back at him, "it's this low-carb, veggie, healthy thing. I don't know. If you don't like it-"
"It sounds good," Stiles interrupted the rangers rambling before he stood to walk passed him towards the kitchen. Derek's feet made soft sounds behind him and he stood next to Stiles when he opened the box and snatched a piece of the whole-wheat pizza, taking a bite. Derek's eyebrows rose and his lips twisted, "Does it taste like the shit they feed rabbits?"
Stiles swatted him in the chest through a mouthful of a laugh, "No, you ass, it tastes like pizza! What is wrong with you, how do you even stay," he waved a hand over his torso and poked playfully through Derek's shirt at the hard muscles on his abdomen, "like this."
Derek's wide smile made Stiles stop chewing momentarily but before the alpha had the chance to answer; a knock came at the door. The two looked at each other and blinked, Stiles holding his hands up in front of his chest as he chewed on the crust of his pizza and Derek frowning before taking the initiative to walk over and open the door.
Scott didn't wait for an invitation, he bounded through the door, arm swung around Derek's shoulder as he went, "Hey, man! Happy house-warming!"
"No," Derek's lips pursed and he pushed Scott back towards the door but Erica blocked him as she swerved out of the way and slinked towards Stiles. The alpha pinched his lips tightly together when Scott hoisted himself onto the breakfast bar and turned to point his eyes dangerously at Boyd when he walked through the door.
The pilot had a deep laugh and he offered a smile as he gripped Derek's shoulder, "It was Scott's idea."
Derek growled, "I'm sure," he bit as an angry glare was shot over his shoulder at the field specialist. Scott patted a bottle of some kind of alcohol and waved it tauntingly at Hale, distracted only by the entrance of Allison, Lydia and Isaac. The brunette was hesitant to step in and touched Derek's arm gently before walking over to pace herself between Scott's dangling knees.
Wide green eyes looked down to Lydia, watched as she smoothed her hands across the long simple dress draped over her small frame and breathed out a shaky sigh before her eyes darted up to his. "Hi, Derek," she reached out to let soft fingertips wrap around his knuckles and it seemed like the entire room went still. His spine felt like it was about to melt into his legs and he felt nerves wash over the lining of his stomach before he swallowed, "Hey, Lydia."
Her smile was as soft as the pads of her fingertips and the pilot felt himself leaning forward and before he realized what he was doing he felt the top of her head below his chin as she pressed gingerly against him. It had been almost a year since he had hugged Lydia and he forgot how comforting it could be.
Stiles smiled to himself and wrapped an arm around Erica's waist when she leaned in to hug him, eyes focused more on the scene in front of the door than on anything else. It was beautiful to watch the two interact, to see Lydia and Derek move forward, even if it was slow progression, it was steady and it was something.
Isaac was the last one through the door and he shot a half-smile to Derek as Lydia walked into the kitchen and leaned against the bar where Scott and Allison were. Boyd had his arms crossed as he stood behind Erica who was next to Stiles and Derek eyed them all carefully before huffing a sigh, "So you all just decide to show up at our house uninvited?"
"It's tradition! Lighten up, already. We brought booze, you guys are going to debut soon, you two have your own place now, it's almost official!"
Stiles arched a brow as he cleared his throat, "What's almost official?"
Scott scrambled to get off the counter and opened cupboard after cupboard before he found what he was looking for and lined short glass cups on the counter, filling them with a small amount of liquor. Nobody asked what kind of alcohol it was or why he was doing what he was doing, the group just watched and waited until he handed one out to each of his friends and walked back over to wrap his arm securely around Allison's waist.
He raised his glass, a wide smile pulling at the edges of his lips, "To Team Lionheart," his words were strong and Stiles felt something stir behind his ribcage as he bit down on his bottom lip, amber eyes lifting to find Derek starring back at him from across the room, "and to another revolution."
They lifted their cups and Stiles watched Derek's lips pull into a smile before he pressed the edge of the glass to his mouth and let the liquid burn down his throat.
The night went on for hours and Stiles swore he hadn't laughed as hard as he had that night since he was a child. They sat in the living room, Scott and Allison on the recliner, Lydia, Isaac, and Boyd on the couch with Erica seated on the ground between Boyd's knees. Derek had his back propped against the wall and Stiles was lounged across the rug next to the coffee table which harbored two nearly empty bottles.
"What did it even feel like?" Scott was laughing through his words and Derek was trying to contain the smile splitting across his face as he shook his head back and forth, "It felt like someone shot me! Those things are disgusting-"
"And I had to give you intravenous anti-fungal medication for weeks," Isaac groaned, eyes falling closed as he leaned his head back against the couch. Derek's eyes squeezed shut and he rubbed at the scar on his arm as a visible shiver ran through him, "I remember, Isaac, trust me."
"Ew, you had alien fungus," Scott stuck his tongue out and Allison slapped his leg when he started laughing again.
It was strange to be in such a close intimate setting with his friends and Stiles could hardly imagine what it would be like to lose any of them. For a moment there, as they all laughed, the kind of laughing that sent them falling and rolling on the ground, he thought that maybe they were safe. Right now, in their living room, on a warm night in September, him and the people he had come to care about so passionately were on a planet that wasn't being hijacked. They were somewhere else, somewhere that didn't have underground safe zones, or sirens built into every building, somewhere where all of that had been put to rest and they could live and be young.
But in the back of his hazy mind where his thoughts were still sharp and coherent, he knew that in the morning they would still wake up and this would still be Shatterdome and they would still have a war to win.
Amber eyes stayed fixed on Derek, on his co-pilots cheeks that shined a blistering red from the alcohol and on the wide grin that so rarely found a place on his face. He looked happy, buckled from laughing so hard it hurt, clapping his hands together as Scott and Boyd spit memories at him and told stories that Stiles only knew of from Derek's memories. It was beautiful, to sit back and watch him unfurl, to physically see his walls lower and to finally get the chance to see a side of Derek that had been hidden away for a long time.
"Stiles," Lydia's voice was louder than normal and she snorted when she laughed which made Derek audibly chuckle, "Shut up Derek!" she pointed a finger at the alpha before turning her attention back to Stiles, "Do you, like tell me, are you uh- this is weird," she snorted again and Stiles arched a brow when she reached for her near empty glass on the table. "You seem so… passive and delicate," her eyes squinted and she stuck her tongue between her teeth, "are you…? Do you like, uh, guys that are more-"
"Oh my god, Lydia!" Scott yelled from across the room, "Is it queens or kings, bro?"
Stiles' cheeks heated immediately and he hid his face in the long shag of the rug underneath him, groaning when Lydia pushed at the top of his head with her bare foot, "Tell me! I know Derek's into like the feisty, hot, can take an give kinda-" her words came out as a squeak due to Derek crawling over to pull at her ankles, causing her to slide down the couch onto her rear. Ear splitting laughter filled the room and Stiles rolled onto his back clutching at his stomach as he sucked in breath after breath. Even Derek was laughing as he scolded her, wiping tears from his eyes and falling backwards on to the rug next to Stiles as Lydia curled up into Isaac's legs.
The doctor leaned down to stroke his hand through her hair and for a moment Stiles thought that he saw something in Isaac's eyes. It was probably just the alcohol.
It was a good night, a night that made Stiles appreciate his life more than he ever had. It went on for a few more hours, hours of stories and memories that Stiles enjoyed listening to more than anything. He contributed here and there, answered questions about old relationships and his days back at Brown with Danny.
The night winded down slowly and Stiles didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he opened his eyes and blinked through the darkness. Allison and Scott were still tangled up on the recliner, Boyd and Erica had wrapped themselves on the floor and Isaac held Lydia close to his chest on the couch.
Stiles smiled tiredly and pawed at his eyes with the back of his hand, fumbling on the table to find his glasses before music softly pulled his attention down the hall to Derek's closed doors. He stood, swaying slightly when he caught himself on the back of the couch as he paced down the hall and set his hand on the door, pushing it open to step inside.
"Derek…?" his voice was tinged with rasp and he stepped inside, straining his eyes through the dim light, "What are you- are you listening to The Cure right now, really?"
His co-pilot peeked around the sliding glass door and narrowed his eyes, "Weren't you asleep?"
Stiles arched a brow when he noticed the small laugh hiding behind Derek's words and he shrugged, walking forward to lean against the wall next to his dresser, "I was, then I woke up and noticed you weren't there. I heard the music and…" he paused when Derek stood, exposing a pale bare chest as he walked forward. The same sweats he always wore were hanging dangerously low on his hips and Stiles couldn't help but let his eyes swim across the ranger's body.
If he would have been sober he would have caught himself, he wouldn't have let his breath hitch when Derek walked towards him and he wouldn't have stumbled to brace himself further when his co-pilots hand hit the wall next to his face. Stiles could smell whiskey on his breath, mixed with the peppermint of his mouthwash and he swallowed when he inhaled a sharp breath full of oak and citrus from Derek's all-too expensive cologne.
Derek's eyes were a world that Stiles wouldn't mind getting lost in and he studied the contours of his face, the small knicks underneath the stubble across his jaw that he had given himself from shaving, the hollow of his cheeks and the flare of his nostrils. He was undeniably intricate and Stiles had completely lost himself in the wild beauty that was Derek Hale.
He kept his hands flat against the wall, eyes flicking around Derek's face, "and…?" the alpha pressed, voice soft like honey as his breath ghosted across Stiles' mouth.
His mind grabbed at words, at actions, at anything and when he opened his mouth to speak the statement that fell from between his lips were not what he had planned.
"…you're so pretty," Stiles' voice was a whisper and the words were breathed out softly, as a complete accident. Amber eyes widened and dread washed over Stiles' face; he pursed his lips, desperate to conceal the deep crimson blush that radiated across his cheeks. Embarrassment nestled into his stomach and screeching brakes screamed in his mind. No. Stiles had never regretted drinking so much in his life.
Derek's eyebrows arched, lips pulled into a gin and before Stiles had the chance to say 'wait' he was buckled over on the floor laughing. The alpha sucked in air and Stiles shook his head, biting down on his lip to try and keep from laughing at himself as well. At least we're drunk. It's all he could say to himself to excuse his complete lack of self-control.
"How could I fuck this up," Stiles breathed into the air as he slouched against the wall, listening to Derek laugh and hoping that this was something the alpha conveniently didn't remember in the morning. His eyes shut and he hissed when a hand grabbed at the back of his leg and pulled roughly.
Stiles fell, finally giving into the laughter that was trapped in his throat and fell on the floor next to Derek who snorted and covered his face, swatting Stiles playfully in the chest, "I'm pretty?" his voice was soft and a chuckle concealed most of the last word. The beta wrinkled his nose and tried to keep himself from laughing but as he looked at Derek it was impossible, so he covered his face with the back of his hand and turned his head away, "You're so pretty, Derek," he sarcastically choked out the words through a laugh, "You're the prettiest pilot ever, okay?"
Derek was sobbing out laughter and Stiles was chuckling quietly as he hid underneath his hand, trying to make sense of the situation, to understand exactly what had just happened. His mind was swimming through fog and he finally built up the courage to look over to Derek whose bright green eyes were fixed on him. A chill ran from the top of his head to his feet and Stiles cleared his throat, "I'm sorry."
He didn't know what else to say and Derek's eyes drifted closed as a coy smile played across his mouth, "Don't be."
He wanted to do something. To lean closer. To reach out and pin his co-pilots arms above his head. To put his mouth on the alphas throat. He wanted to do anything but lay there in the middle of the floor and stare.
Stiles' breath hitched once more and he bit down on his lip, heart thundering loud and prominent behind his ribs.
Derek's fingertips brushed across his forearm and Stiles' lips parted.
"Stiles…" the way he said his name made Stiles want to lurch forward, but he kept his distance, only moving to drag his own fingers across the top of Derek's hand.
"Yeah?"
Derek swallowed, eyes tired and heavy, "Thanks."
There wasn't anything else to say, no words, no jokes, nothing. They laid there for a while in the darkness, Stiles studying the color of Derek's eyes and Derek absently playing with the flesh of the beta's wrist. He didn't know what the veteran ranger was thanking him for and it was too late and he was much too intoxicated to worry about it. It was silent in Derek's room besides the sound of wind against the plants outside and the soft lull of music from a small ihome on the nightstand. Stiles closed his eyes, listened to the soft inhale and exhale of Derek's breath next to him on the floor and fell asleep as his co-pilot's fingers gently gripped onto the bony knuckles of Stiles' hand.