Hi guys! Someone commented about Derek's POV, so here it is. This is a few months back, when they broke up.
Derek's loft was in bedlam. After the fight, he had torn up the pillows on the couch, only to fling the entire thing seconds later. He went on a destructive rage throughout the home, knowing he screwed up and Stiles was gone. Blinking away tears of frustrations and agony, Derek marched over to the loft door, slamming it shut behind him and then quickly walking out of the building. In the back of his subconsciousness, there was a feeling of relief that he had no nosy neighbors due to his owning of the building.
The second he got to the edge of the forest located behind the building, Derek took off in a run. He didn't care that he had no shoes on, or that there was a storm brewing on the horizon. Of course his feet stung, and his werewolf senses were being overpowered with the stench of rain, but maybe that's what he was looking for. Eventually though, the pain faded away and he was just running, not even registering the smell of rain. And he kept running, the breeze slapping against his face, but the warm air of California calmed it a few seconds later.
Despite being a werewolf, his lungs began to burn and his stomach clenched up, nearly causing him to double over from surprise. Derek came to a sudden halt, which the stop in momentum caused him to barrel forward. Catching himself before he hit the ground, he just laid there.
Staring up at the darkening blue sky, he gazed drowsily at birds flying away. Then, taking a breath, Derek stood up and brushed the leaves off his pants.
With an sudden angry shout, he marched up to a huge boulder a few meters away, and punched it with all the force and anger he could muster. Bones cracked and the pain nearly floored him. In fact, he quickly brought his hand to chest and cradled it, ignoring the tears streaming down his face, and fell to his knees.
"I deserve this…" Whimpering out, Derek leaned his body until his forehead was resting against the cold, moss-covered stone. His body shook and at some point his shoulders started to ache, but he ignored it.
Derek had no clue how long he stayed there, or when he ran out of tears and started dry-crying. But as dusk was falling, what was left of the sky to see, became vibrant with deep rich colors. And he somehow managed, very slowly, to stand. He would've fallen again, due to his feet haven fallen asleep, if not for him using the stone to keep himself steady.
Just as it started to drizzle, Derek's senses started coming to, and he gradually started walking back.
Opening the loft door with a sad attempt, Derek lazily walked in. His eyes shot open when he took a huge breath, inhaling Stiles's smell. Feeling a sudden energy, he marched across the large, vast room and into his own bedroom. Pulling open the drawers that held Stiles's extra clothes. he began taking them out and just ripping them apart. tossing them somewhere behind him when they were in shreds. He kept continuing in the vicious cycle, one shirt after another. And then, pulling out a pale red hoodie, just broke.
And he wept. He pulled the sweater up to his face and cried into it, all his anger and frustration disappearing in an instance.
Derek remembered giving the sweater to Stiles a few months after they met. It was a cold night and Stiles, being Stiles, didn't think to grab some warm clothes when the two of them met up to search for Erica and Boyd. He remembered in exasperation, he had given Stiles the only hoodie he had that would possible fit him. In a small feeling of astonishment, Derek came to the realization that Stiles had this the entire time...and he didn't even notice Stiles bring it into the loft.
That thought just made him cry harder, as if he wasn't just making up for this time of losing Stiles but every time he had refused to cry in his entire lifetime.
A soft, almost inaudible buzzing broke him out of his stupor, causing him to get up and shuffle towards his bedside desk, red hoodie now wrapped on his broken hand. Clumsily, his fingers dashed across the touch screen of his phone and he shakily hit the green answer button. Clearing his throat, Derek brought it up to his ear.
"Derek Hale, how dare you." Lydia snarled into the phone. "I cannot begin to say what I want to say. I just got home from comforting a very broken up Stiles, and now I'm grabbing some some things to head back. But Derek, you are so lucky that I'm not coming over there to tear you a new one. You've hurt Stiles and I swear to God if you try talking to him again...if you come within twenty feet of him, I will personally make sure you never have children." Derek by then, had sat quietly on the edge of his bed, listening to every word she was saying. He knew he had hurt Stiles, and the mantra that he deserved being told it, kept being repeated in his head.
"How could you Derek? I thought you would at least treat him right. Especially with what happened with Jennifer! He has always been there for you and you both seem to have this mutual saving-each-other thing going on. Even I've lost count over how many times you've pushed him out of the way and he's stood in front of you."
"And then it was always you and him with the unresolved sexual tension. At one point all of us had a bet going on...besides that, I just...I can't believe you hurt Stiles like this. He knocked on my front door...my front door Derek. When I answered, his eyes were all red from crying and he was on the verge of a panic attack. I can't believe you!"
"Derek? Derek?" Lydia's voice was softer this time, and was hesitant with worry. Realizing he zoned out, he was about to speak when Lydia spoke again. "I'm coming over." She said softly before hanging up.
Slowly, Derek put down his phone and leaned back on his bed. And now Lydia was on her way to most likely yell at him more.
Just lying there, he stared up at the blank ceiling, taking in it's emptiness. He had no motivation to get up, whether to clean the mess down stairs or to clean the torn up clothing.
About half an hour passed, with him just staying stock still, when the clicking of Lydia's heels sounded just outside the loft's doors. Derek waited, listening to her stopping at the sight of the loft's main room, and hearing her sigh, along with throwing her purse down. Then, heard her walk into the kitchen, as she turned on the water. Letting out a sigh himself, he somehow managed to get up and nonchalantly walked down the stairs, greatly leaning against the rail.
"You don't have to do that." He quietly said, causing her to jump. When she turned around, her eyebrows were crossed in anger, yet the second Lydia's eyes landed on him, she immediately stopped whatever she was doing and crossed the room to him. She placed his hands on his shoulders and moved him to the kitchen chair a few feet away. Easily, he went with her, allowing her to drag him with her.
"My god, Derek…" She let out a soft gasp, her eyes trailing along his body, narrowing in on the red hoodie and wrapped hand. "What happened?"
"I punched a rock." Derek's voice remained at the same level of quietness.
"You what?" Lydia's face was sketched with an unbelievable look. "Why isn't it healing?" Before he could answer, a look of realization crossed her face. "You're not letting yourself heal…" To show she got it right, Derek nodded. "Derek…" Bringing her hand up, she wiped away his tears, that he hadn't known what was falling.
"He's gone." There was a crack in his voice that he couldn't prevent.
"We'll think of something." Lydia sighed again, walking over to the sink and turning off the water. "I was going to clean up, but it seems that you need to talk to someone."
"What about going to Stiles's?" Derek asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
"As soon as I get your hand wrapped and I make you some coffee, then I'm off."
This had to go perfectly...it had to. There was no doubt about it, as it was Lydia who came up with the plan in the first place. Nervously, Derek shifted the tie along his neck before double checking that his shoes were tied. It was a rented tux that Lydia had somehow managed to get in time.
It was the day that Stiles and his dad were leaving for Hawaii. Actually, the two's flight was about to leave in thirty minutes. Fiddling with his tie again, Derek turned on his heel and almost lost his nerve, before turning back around. The flowers in his hand made a ruffling noise, causing his senses to pick up on the pollen, which in turn, caused him to sneeze.
Swallowing, Derek continued walking.
"Flight to Hawaii, boarding on Deck 13. Flight to Hawaii, boarding on Deck 13." The second the speaker woman stopped talking, a panic flared through Derek. It wasn't supposed to be for another thirty minutes. Did the flight get moved up?
Picking up his pace, Derek hurried along, passing past people who were also in a hurry. At one point, he had to jump in between two people in order to sneak past. Deck 4...Deck 5...He counted in his head.
"Come on...come on…" Derek whispered under his breath. Deck 7….Deck 8…and suddenly there was a crowd. People were yelling and it was difficult to move. It became a standstill, leading to Derek nervously tapping his foot.
"Flight to Hawaii, five minutes till boarding closes. Flight to Hawaii, five minutes till boarding closes."
How much time had passed? Derek's mind was full of worry, and at this point, he started to blatantly push past people.
When he got to Deck 13, he saw the team (Lydia, Isaac, Kira, Scott, and Danny) all standing there, waving at Stiles who was just disappearing past the line, following his dad. Watching with wide eyes, Derek saw one of the flight attendants hook a rope across the entrance. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lydia look back and stare at him with an upset, understanding look.
It took everything in him to not fall down and start crying again.
He didn't make it.
Stiles was gone.
Hiya! I hope you guys liked this chapter.
I wanted to thank everyone for their comments. :) I love seeing them and they brighten my day.
Sorry for not posting recently. My dog passed away and I got behind in school for a second there.
On a happier note, there should be two chapters this week, including this one. Suggestions are still open if you want to read something or want any characters to be involved.
Tally-Ho! Until next time...
Thank you again