Okay, so i'm not sure how i feel about this chapter but hopefully you guys will like it.
All mistakes are mine, and my 'R' key and my V' key still don't work unless i use the fiddly onscreen keyboard, so i'm sorry if there is more mistakes than usual!
Stiles most certainly was not okay. No matter how many times she'd thrown him a weak smile and nodded that she was, that she didn't need anything, that it was all fucking fine. He's pretty sure she's either slipping into denial or hit an all time low on depression, because he can remember Laura telling him days after the fire that yes, she was doing okay, and yes she had all she needed for now and then he'd come back to the apartment they'd managed to find with Laura holding a gun to her temple and a smile still on her face.
They had days that were almost repeats of the shower fiasco, when Stiles would shut down. No talking, eating, acknowledgment that anyone else was around. At some point during those days she would get frantic and demand that they stop touching her, stop being contaminated by her, and fight her way towards the shower. Up to now, they'd manage to stave off the panic attack enough to get Derek's arms wrapped around her- or Jackson's and Derek is still constantly amazed at how gentle he is with the human girl he'd once hated.
Derek had someone watching her each second of the day, which is the reason the Sheriff had asked if she could stay with him. Her father had known he wouldn't be able to provide this kind of care at home, and he still couldn't be sure whether those men had been in their home or not. Stiles might not have felt safe there. He still came around a few times a day, spent time with his daughter in comfortable silence. Once he left for the night, either Isaac or Derek would climb in beside her in Derek's bed and let her wrap her fingers around their wrists, measure their pulse against her own, just so that she could get some rest.
It was a bad judgment call, almost two weeks after they'd brought her home, that could have cost them all. The wolves where all needed for treaty discussions at the Argents. Derek hadn't wanted to leave Stiles without a wolf around who could hear if she got into trouble, but Lydia had scowled and told him she was perfectly capable of looking after a very weak, very tired Stiles for an hour or two. Derek had warned her, told her that the scent of pain, fear and desperation still surrounds Stiles like an aura and that she would have to be there for pretty much every second until they got back. Lydia had rolled her eyes but nodded, and pressed a kiss to Jackson's cheek before hurrying them out of the door. Derek had been plagued by a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach the moment they'd driven away from the house. It had grown when Scott had turned up at the meeting with Allison, although that could have just been annoyance. The feeling hit an all time horribleness when the call from Lydia came through.
"What is it, what's wrong?" He had demanded down the phone, not even excusing himself from the room before answering the call. Everyone was watching him intently.
"It's Stiles. The door to your room is locked and I think I can hear someone on the roof. God, Derek I only went to get her some juice." Lydia's voice was panicked, on the edge of tearful and Derek growled.
"I said don't let her out of your sight for a second, Lydia!" He shouted down the phone, throwing himself off the armchair he was sat in.
"I know, I know I'm sorry. Just get here quickly." He didn't reply, pushed his finger across the screen to end the call and turned to the pack gathered behind him.
"What's happening?" Danny inquired, holding Isaac close to him. Jackson, Erica and Boyd were pressed to the other side of them. Scott and the Argents were glancing between them all in confusion.
"Lydia can't get in the room. And there's noises from the roof." He growled back, turning to Argent.
"Family emergency, another time?" He was already halfway through the door, not even waiting for a reply when he heard Jackson grumble to Scott.
"You stay away, you've caused enough pain." Scott was left stuttering behind them with Allison clinging tearfully to his side as they left their cars and instead ran back to the Hale house.
The house, as wide and long as it is, is also extremely tall. It stands at three stories, about thirty five feet. Seeing Stiles standing against the ledge of the flat roof over the attic, the full height of the house up, was one of Derek's most heart stopping moments. He growled at the others, pointing to the ground beneath where Stiles was wobbling.
"You all stay here. If she falls, you catch her." The others spread out beneath where Stiles was stood, they could see tears streaming down her face but she was smiling. It was unnerving to say the least. By the time they had situated themselves, Derek had thrown himself into his house and up the stairs. Lydia was pacing outside his bedroom door, chewing on her nails.
"She still isn't answering and I don't know what's on the roof!" She whimpered at him as he pushed her away from the door.
"Stiles. Stiles is on the roof." There is a tiny pained gasp from here, drowned out by the sound of splintering wood as he kicked his door through. The window was open, blowing his curtains into the room with strong gusts of wind. It made his heart beat faster. Stiles was tiny, able to be blown over by a strong breeze on one of her better days. Now, ten pounds lighter and caught in a haze of pain and terror, this wind could blow her from the roof before he got her down. Slowly, he inched out of the window, clinging to the fame, to look up at her precariously perched at the edge.
"Stiles." Derek called out to her gently, pulling her attention towards him. "Stiles, what are you doing on the roof?" She grinned at him manically.
"I'm free up here. They can't get me here Derek. It's safe!" She laughed it out, lost in her thoughts and disillusions.
"That is the least safe place, Stiles. You could fall." Her face sobered as she looked down at him again.
"I don't care." Stiles whispered, hardly reaching him through the wind. "I don't care!" She screamed louder, and Derek heard a whimper from Isaac beneath them.
"Okay, you don't care. But think about the others Stiles. Think about how much it would hurt the pack and your dad. It would hurt them, Stiles. It would hurt me." She blinks wildly down to him, still balancing too close to the edge. He doesn't know what to do, how to approach this. When it was Laura, he could bat the gun out of her hand and hold her in comfort. But he couldn't climb up without risk of spooking Stiles, without nudging her into a fall or a jump. He couldn't pull her down and back into the room from here. She must have balanced on the thin edge of his window sill and then hoisted herself up onto the roof, almost six feet from where Stiles' toes would have been touching. Derek isn't even aware she had that kind of strength or energy left. Getting her back down would be a risky reversal of that process.
"I did it all to save you. All of it, to keep the pack safe. To keep you safe."
"I know you did, Stiles. We know, okay? And none of that will mean anything if you fall from this roof today." He shouts over the ever increasing wind. She sways, and glances down at the anxiously waiting pack members beneath her. Nodding, she turns her attention back to Derek.
"I need to get down from here." Stiles whimpers, tears once again flowing freely down her face. Derek nods, smiling slightly in encouragement to her.
"Alright. We'll do this slowly. I need you to sit down on the edge, real slowly, and scoot forward until your legs are dangling as far as they can go, Okay?" She lets out a deep breath, bending down slowly until she's sat as far forward on the edge as possible and shooting anxious, horrified glances at Derek.
"Just stay calm. Put all your weight back onto your hands and elbows and lower yourself off the edge now. Don't worry about anything. I'll keep you steady once you're close enough." Shaking her head rapidly.
"Can't. I can't. I'll fall."
"No, you won't. It's not far until I can reach you. Come on." He encouraged, reaching his hands out ready to catch her. He watched her as she took a deep breath, scooting further and further off until only her upper body was taking her weight. Derek could see her trembling under the strain, just out of reach for him to grasp properly. Slowly, so slowly, she began to slide down a little, letting her hands slip against the tile so she could get lower.
"D-Derek." She screeched as her hands slipped too quickly, scrambling for purchase. A whine tried to break free of his throat. Stiles slowed on her tumble, and Derek was sure she'd found a grip again, but the wind blew hard. Derek blinked against the wind hitting his face and Stiles screamed as her new found semi-stability was once again lost. The wind practically threw her away from the house, and Derek remained frozen; unable to reach out, unable to catch her.
"Stiles!" He bellowed, getting only her screeching in reply as she tumbled further down. It was like time had slowed, as he watched that fragile human fall towards solid ground. From where he could see, none of his wolves were in a good enough position to catch her without some kind of injury.
"Stiles!" He cried again, as she neared the ground. His vision was blurring in panic, blinking heavily against the wind and gathering tears brought on through the fear. There was a moment of silence as he heard an impact. Unable to look down, he squeezed his eyes closed and clenched his fists.
"I got her. Derek it's alright. I got her!" Jackson shouted up to him. Derek let out a breath, squeezing his eyes tighter for a second.
"Oh, thank God," He breathed out, turning to find Lydia frozen, in tears behind him. He'd have to talk to her later, Derek could hear the sounds of the pack coming inside downstairs and he was sure the knot in his stomach wouldn't go away until he saw for himself that Stiles was uninjured. He brushed past her, rushing two steps at a time until he was slumped next to the sofa Stiles was laid out on, hands hovering over her.
"Are you hurt? Stiles, are you hurt?" Derek demanded, brushing fingertips over already existing bruises and abrasions, wincing along with her when he reached the worst ones over her ribs even if he couldn't see them under the cover of a black shirt.
"N-no." She hiccupped back, blinking at the tears once again filling her eyes. Derek nodded in relief and then turned to the others gathered behind him. They all looked, and felt, a little numb. Thrusting his chin towards the door, a silent ask for some privacy, the pack piled out. Derek waiting until they gathered Lydia and closed themselves into Isaac's room. Once they were settled, he turned his attention back to a softly crying Stiles. As gently as he could, unable to resist touching her now, he tugged her until she was wrapped around him on the ground. Her head buried in the crook of his neck, hand wrapped in its familiar place on his wrist and one over his chest. Derek held her, one hand stroking her hair, the other half way up her thigh, holding her entire body as close as he could without triggering her or causing too much pain. Rocking gently, lips pressed against her hair, Derek whispered to her.
"I almost lost you, again. Stiles. God. I can't- please. I can't lose you too." Stile's breath hitches in her throat as she sobs quietly into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She whispers back to him, so quietly he almost doesn't catch it. Still rocking, they revert back to silence until she is resting sleepily against him in the quiet hum of the house.
"Stiles." He calls gently, lifting a finger under her chin and pulling her face up to meet his gaze. She blinks at him with doe eyes, making his heart break and swell at the same time. Eyes wide open to look for an objections, he leans into until their mouths meet. Another sob in Stiles' breathing and then she's kissing him back. Gently, tentative and soft like she isn't sure how to do this. And maybe she doesn't. Derek is almost sure she'd never really been touched or had touched anyone else before those bastards got their hands on her. They pull away when air becomes a necessity, foreheads pressed together.
"I can't lose you too, okay?" Derek whispers to her, eyes closed now against the sheer thought that he might have never felt Stiles in his arms again. She just nods gently against him and shifts back into her original position cuddled against him.
"M'tired." She sighs hotly against his neck, making him chuckle lightly.
"I think we all are. The others are piling in Isaac's room, you want join them or just go back to my room?" He watches as she considers, but he can feel her panic rising slightly.
"I don't think- I'm not ready- Not for the pack cuddles yet. Can we just, heartbeats and in your room and stuff?" She mumbled weakly, disjointed sentence a testament to her exhaustion. Derek doesn't reply, trying not to pull her from the almost sleep. He stands with her still cradled in his arms, taking her back to the room he had vacated once Jackson had brought her in. Someone - he thinks it will have been Lydia - has shut the windows, which he is grateful for. Trying not to disturb her, he sets her down, shucking off his jacket and shoes which are still on from the dramatic scene on his return home. She whimpers, eyes flickering open, when he's no longer in touching distance and he hurries to climb in beside her. Pulling the covers over her but staying on top of them himself so she isn't uncomfortable or afraid. He expects Stiles to reach out, even in her almost sleep to grab his wrist and measure her breathing and pulse against his, but she surprises him. Cuddling in closer, she gently shifts up against his chest until her ear is against his heart and her arm is draped across his stomach. After a moment of hesitation, he lays on hand against the back of her head, running his fingers through her soft hair lightly. The other went behind his head lifting him slightly as he watched Stiles settle against his body.
This was comfortable. Right. Exactly where she was always supposed to be. It's a feeling he's been repressing since he had the opportunity to figure out what it was, but almost losing her twice in just two weeks was too much. Derek knew he'd have to be gentle, slow, whatever Stiles needed from him, but he wasn't going to ignore his feelings for her anymore. Not when it could mean the difference between her being safe or being dead.