Disclaimer: Teen Wolf characters are not mine.
A/N: This is a Derek POV one-shot. Tell me what you think! :)
It had always been difficult, with AJ, recognizing where the coyote ended and the boy began. He was smart, anyone could see that. But there were times when he reverted into something far more simplistic...childish, even. Like his brain would just switch off, and the animal side would take over.
The change became more noticeable the more stressed or tired he got. First he would become irritable. Then he would become withdrawn. After that, he'd have a single track mind. I'd seen it again and again, watching as he'd become fixated on a single idea while everything around him floated out of his grasp.
It wasn't without its reasons, though. It was a coping mechanism. When AJ was tired or stressed or in pain, he reverted back to his comfort zone. And when that didn't work, he strove to impose order on a single thing. Like I said, one track mind.
Lydia. Running. Food. Those were the most recurring of the lot.
He was difficult. Far more difficult than Isaac had ever been.
Like now. Currently, AJ was fixated on food.
"No," I told him, unwilling to bend on the issue. Slate gray eyes slid up from where they were glued to the countertop, meeting my gaze hesitantly. AJ studied me carefully, face hopeful as he tried to gauge my sincerity. I shook my head. "You're not having Twinkies for breakfast."
He scowled then, which seemed to be his new way of showing displeasure. I wondered how long it would take for him to start talking again. I'd thought, mistakenly, that things would go back to normal right away. It had seemed that way last night. Today was a whole different story, though.
It was almost like he couldn't process what was going on around him. When he'd first entered the kitchen, he'd stared at the protein shake for an entire minute before looking up at me, utter confusion written on his face. It was almost like he didn't remember. Of course, once he'd realized what was expected, the steadfast defiance had surfaced, and that had been a little more consistent with his old self.
Right now we were engaged in a battle of wills. I'd given up on the shake and had made pancakes, knowing that even when the kid felt like shit, he never turned down pancakes. But AJ had, shoving the plate away and scowling. Then, he'd padded to the cupboard and pulled out the almost empty box of Twinkies.
I had quickly confiscated them from him, but the damage had already been done. AJ wanted Twinkies for breakfast and was refusing to eat anything else. I should have known that the kid had the patience of an eighty-five year old man when it came to his favorite food.
So we were staring each other down, which was the first completely voluntary eye contact that AJ had made with me thus far. I was almost fed up with his antics, though. Not even Kora got to push my buttons this much.
I shoved the plate of pancakes back in front of him. "Eat it," I growled, patience way beyond gone. He shoved it away with a growl of his own, and I closed my eyes, counting to ten as I wondered how the hell we'd gotten here.
It was my own fault, I suppose.
This morning, I'd gone into his room, expecting to find him passed out in his new bed. Only he hadn't been. Sometime during the night, he'd taken his blanket and somehow wedged himself inside the room's tiny closet before pulling the panel closed after him. I might have thought him missing if his stench hadn't given him away.
When I'd tried to wake him, there had been no response. No movement, no change in heart rate, nothing. Realizing it was probably the most passive I was ever going to get him, I'd slid one arm under his knees and one under his shoulders, carrying him to the bathroom before dumping him in the tub. Then I'd stripped him down to his boxers, wincing at the smell. He'd been filthy, which was to be expected.
His hair had been practically a sentient being. Grabbing a pair of scissors, I'd sheared off the matted, snarled length in quick strokes. Then I'd plugged the electric hair clippers and buzzed his hair down to short half inch.
Once that was accomplished, I'd flipped on the water in the tub, making sure it was relatively warm before turning on the shower.
'Course, then the kid had woken up pretty quickly. He'd tried to bolt, and I'd pinned him under the spray with ease.
And the day had pretty much just gone downhill from there.
Now he was digging his fucking heels in with everything.
God, there was no way I was going to win this one. "Fine," I snapped, the sharpness of my tone making him flinch. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I made struggled to make my voice softer. "Eat some of this—" I moved the pancake on the plate back towards him "—and you can have a Twinkie after."
AJ looked at me with complete skepticism, but after a few seconds, he ate a bite of pancake. He chewed for too long, then had to force himself to swallow. The whole process was almost painful to watch. Then he took another bite, and after that, another.
I watched him, perplexed. It was almost like it made him physically ill to eat, but he'd had no problem scarfing down the half of a sandwich last night. And I'd bet he wouldn't hesitate to eat the Twinkie. So why was he struggling right now?
Six bites. That was all he could handle. After his sixth, he pushed the plate away. Then he looked at me. AJ's new haircut made his eyes seem huge, and the gray-blue orbs trained on me in steadfast expectation. I didn't have the heart to force him to eat more.
"Ask," I told him. He looked up at me, confusion warring with uneasiness. "Use your words, and you can have one."
His eyes widened slightly, and he waited. Waited to see if I'd just give him one anyway. I shrugged, turning away as I put his plate and cup in the sink.
I'd washed all the dishes by the time he worked up his courage to speak. "Twinkie," he said finally, the word coming out rough and uncoordinated.
I raised my eyebrows and waited, prompting more. His hands clenched and unclenched impatiently at his sides. I could almost see the gears slowly spinning to life inside his head, and I could see the exact moment when he got it. "Please," he grated out, trying his best. Good. That was progress.
"Please what?" I asked. I felt like a sadistic bastard, but the kid needed this. He needed to get back to normal, the faster the better.
There was no inkling of understanding in his eyes. AJ really had no idea what I wanted, and he seriously looked like he was ready to cry. Oh God, I was an being an ass. "We'll work on that," I told him, grabbing the box of Twinkies off the top of the fridge and tossing him one.
He flinched when I tossed it at him, but he caught it nonetheless. And, like I'd predicted, he was able to scarf it down, a doofus look of happiness drifting across his face as he did. It was a good look. One I hadn't seen very often with him.
"Hey," I said softly. He jumped, like he'd forgotten I was even there. "Let's go for a drive."
AJ chewed on the inside of his cheek for a few seconds, eyes narrowed as he carefully weighed me. Then he hopped off his stool and followed me down to the car with slow, uncertain steps.
I drove to Deaton's, and AJ stared out the window the whole time.
When we got to the clinic, I realized my mistake. I'd thought, with the mental "slowness" he was having, that he wouldn't remember this place.
But he did. Just my luck.
The change was instantaneous. One second, AJ was staring out the window, and the next, he was having a meltdown. It was like a panic attack, more or less. His breathing took on an edge of hysteria, and every muscle in his body was tense. His heart was beating fast and hard.
I glanced over at him. The kid was way too thin, tucked back into the seat like he wished it would swallow him. He looked dangerous, all skin and bones and wary eyes. It didn't help that he still wouldn't say a word.
He wasn't ready for this. So I pulled out of the parking lot and started driving.
I didn't really think about where I was taking him, just drove.
It took ten minutes before the kid calmed down, before his heart slowed and his breathing steadied. I didn't miss the sideways glances he threw me. Didn't miss the way he clutched the door handle.
Fight or flight.
A month ago, AJ would have been all fight. And he would have done with a sarcastic comment and a wild grin.
Today, he was all flight.
It made me wonder just how much work it had taken in the Eichen house to bring him up to speed the first time he'd changed back. Shit. I didn't know how to do this, didn't know how to take care of a kid. I'd struggled enough when AJ was just an angry, hurt kid who was looking for something to take it out on. Now, he was just lost, and I didn't know how to fix it.
Hell, I couldn't even fix myself these days.
We drove for a while. He continued to stare out his window. I think the steady motion of being in the car calmed him down. It was then that the first inklings of a plan started to form in the back of my mind, and I knew it was a long shot, but I went for it anyway.
We pulled up in front of a house, and there was a car in the driveway, thankfully. She was home. This was good. This was really good.
I put the car in park and turned off the engine, turning to evaluate AJ's reaction. He wasn't tucking himself into his seat like last time. Instead, he was still looking out the window, body relaxed.
I waited, and eventually he turned to look at me. He studied me carefully, and I hated it. I hated his worried scrutiny. He didn't know what I wanted, which made him intensely wary. I didn't want him to be wary. I wanted him to be the foul-mouthed little shit he'd been before he'd run.
But he wasn't, and it was partly my fault. So now we had to start from scratch.
"Let's go," I told him, opening my door and getting out. I wondered if he'd freeze up like last time, but he didn't. He climbed out too, following close behind me as I walked up the driveway.
AJ stopped by the car that was parked in the driveway. I turned to see if he was going to bolt and found him sniffing the air around the driverside door. His forehead wrinkled for a second before his eyes widened. "Mel-issa," he whispered in broken syllables, almost too quietly to be heard.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise at hearing him speak. I kept a neutral expression but nodded. Then he hurried forward to catch up to me as I walked up the porch and rang the doorbell.
AJ hovered anxiously at my elbow while we waited, and before long, I could hear footsteps.
Melissa McCall opened the door, wearing jeans and a purple sweater. She looked at me in surprise, but it was nothing compared to the shock that crossed her face as her eyes traveled past me and saw AJ.
She smiled, and it lit up her face. "AJ," she said softly. And she stepped forward, arms out.
I tensed, ready to intervene when he flipped out. But AJ stood perfectly still as Melissa stepped forward and hugged him. I stared, dumbfounded. The kid fucking flinched every time I even looked at him. Yet he let Melissa McCall hug him. How the hell did that work?
She released him, but left an arm around him. Her hand rubbed small circles on his back as she guided him inside, casting a worried glance back at me. I knew what she was thinking. He looked like shit. I stared back at her impassively, not knowing what else to do.
We walked into the house, and before I knew it, she had AJ perched on a barstool in front of the counter. Putting a spoon in his hand, she dropped a tub of ice cream in front of him. "Eat up," she told him before disappearing into the next room.
AJ, the little shit, dug into the ice cream like there was no tomorrow. He couldn't eat six bites of pancake from me, but he was just fine eating ice cream?
I gritted my teeth, then decided to take the win. Eating. He was eating. That was good.
Melissa reappeared with a stethoscope around her neck. "AJ," she called when she was just a few steps away from him. "I'm going to put this on your chest."
He looked up, slightly wary, as she approached. Instead of jumping right in, though, she held out the end of the stethoscope so he could see it. Then she pressed it against her hand. "Just like this, except on you, okay?"
He narrowed his eyes but gave her a slow nod. She smiled at him and reached out with a slow hand, resting it lightly on AJ's shoulder. She was letting him get acclimated. That was smart. Melissa put the earpieces in her ears, and only when AJ started eating the ice cream again did she ease the bottom of his shirt up and slide the stethoscope underneath.
AJ stopped eating long before she finished her examination. He sat patiently as she examined his muscles, skin, and hair. He even flashed a quick grin when she tested his knee's tendon reflex with the small hammer and his leg kicked out of its own accord.
It wasn't long before his eyes began to flutter closed. She saw it and finished her assessments. He yawned and pillowed his head in his arms on the counter. After that, it was only a matter of minutes before his breathing evened out and let me know he was asleep.
Melissa busied herself making coffee. She didn't speak until her hands were clutched around a steaming mug. "He seems okay," she began, clearly opening a door for discussion. I made a small, non-committal noise. She pursed her lips, watching him with affection clearly written all over her face. Then she looked up at me. "Dehydration and malnutrition are the only things I'm worried about."
I nodded, staring down at my coffee, hyper aware that she was still looking at me. When I could, I finally met her eyes. They were soft and warm and full of understanding. "You're doing a good thing," she said softly. "I saw how he looked at you. How much he watched your every move, copied you." Melissa cleared her throat, looking down at her coffee. "Scott told me what happened. I don't...I don't know everything that went on with Peter." She stumbled over his name but plowed on anyway. "But AJ needs you, Derek. You were good for him. Maybe the best thing that ever happened to him."
Then she straightened, looking me dead in the eyes. "You can do this. I'll help anyway I can. Scott will, too."
I nodded again, suddenly uncomfortable with her utter sincerity. "He's family," I told her finally, admitting the one thing that I'd been denying this whole time.
"Did you know?" she asked. "When you first took him in."
I shook my head. "I suspected." Then I shook AJ's shoulder. He jumped, startled and disoriented. I got him upright and nudged him towards the door. Melissa followed us out.
AJ stopped at the porch steps, turning back to Melissa. "Bye," he said finally. Then he walked down to the car without a backwards glance.
"Thank you," I said roughly, following him in much the same manner.
Climbing in the car, I glanced over at AJ. He was sleepy and calm, and for a second, I could see Peter in the lines of his face. "Where to?" I asked him, not really expecting an answer.
"Home," he hummed quietly, surprising me again.
So we went home.