CH 3
Derek stepped out of his Camaro to find Scott waiting on the porch. Derek could smell the anger rolling off him in waves.
He could also smell Stiles.
"Hey" Scott acknowledged, standing up quickly, practically leaping off the stairs.
Derek nodded, his stomach lurching as he stepped closer, smelling sadness mixed with the inherent sweetness that he knew was Stiles' scent.
"Is everything OK?" he asked Scott.
Scott nodded, wanting to keep his best friends private life, well private.
"Yeah, he's just going through a rough patch." Scott stated plainly.
"It's all clear." Scott added looking into the forest.
"Thanks for standing watch." Derek nodded.
Derek entered the decrepit house and shut the door behind him.
Scott shook his head as he headed home in the moonlight.
The next day Derek headed to a place he had only visited after the fire had taken his family. He hesitated longer than he wanted to as the creaky elevator came to a stop on the third floor. He finally stepped out before the elevator made its way back to the ground floor and made his way through the dim corridors. The area looked downright eerie after hours. Derek was not scared of eerie. Derek was used to eerie. Still, he already regretted coming as he halted at a door at the end of a hallway.
He pushed it open to find a woman, her hair graying gracefully, her face set with lines that meant she smiled a lot, serving to enhance her beauty, rather than diminish it.
"Hello there" she smiled as she packed files away and rearranged her cluttered desk.
"Want to sit?" She pointed to a small red chair that was part of a circle occupied by different colored chairs.
Derek shook his head, not moving.
"Fine. You know that my counseling hours have passed?" She spoke matter of factly.
Derek grimaced. Ready to retreat.
She began hanging pieces of paper that served as makeshift canvases where children had scrawled 'We love You Dr. Seashorn' in crayon.
"No one should ever have to go through what you've been through. I'm sorry."
Derek paused.
"I just have don't know how to." Derek choked, the words still not allowing themselves to exist outside of his conscious mind.
Dr. Seashorn waited patiently as Derek deliberated whether he should turn and walk out the door. So she offered.
"Let people in? Trust others? Lose someone else?" Dr. Seashorn finished as she looked at her handiwork. She ran her hands over a picture of a stick figure dressed as a super hero of some sort, flying over a city.
"You sure you don't want to sit? For a little chat?" She stared at him looking slightly worried as he grimaced slightly, shifting from one foot to the other.
Derek nodded.
"Well. I know you don't want to go down the traditional session route. And honestly while I think you need to." She thought for a moment, Derek watching her every move.
"You'd probably get upset by the process and leave midway. Which for someone in my profession is extremely frustrating. " She continued in her soothing manner.
" I know you've thought about what happened a great deal. Probably too much for your own good."
Derek exhaled quietly.
She smiled at him.
"Let me tell you something Derek."
She stood in front of him and she took his hand. Her hand was soft and warm and Derek suddenly felt safe. Like someone was listening.
"All we have in this world is time."
Derek stared into her eyes wondering what she meant.
"All we have is time." She repeated, emphasizing each word.
She let go of his hand gently.
"What are you going to do with your time here? Live in pain and fear?"
She posted another child's drawing on the wall and took a step back to admire her handiwork.
She then picked up a chunky handbag that was so large it seemed like it could hold small child if she needed to take one home. She patted his shoulder.
"Yours goes right there Derek. I expect to have it next week." She said in a cheerful tone, pointing at the one space missing on the wall of colorful drawings.
Derek stared at the wall, his mind processing the new information just given to him.
"Now go out there and live." She said quietly.
She gave him a wave and was gone.
Derek ventured into the woods until the forest reclaimed the land entirely, leaving no evidence of the human race. There he walked through the dense brush until he reached the river he visited with his family. No one knew about it and he loved being there all alone. He was always alone anyway.
He slipped into the rushing water, letting the water relax his aching body.
He stayed like that for hours pondering Dr. Seashorn's words.
All we have in this world is time.
Long after the sun had set, Derek walked back home to his shell of a house, glad to have some time to clear his head. He felt so tired but before he was even close to reaching the front door he smelled the stench of death, an old kill that was now essentially rotting flesh. At his doorstep he found the torso of a deer, its head and back legs missing. A bloody and crude message, but a message none the less.
"If you want to do something, do it now!" he roared into the sky, warning anyone or anything hering distance, that he would take any or all challengers.
He flung the hunk of bloodied meat with all his might, watching as it disappeared into the forest and splattered against the ground with a muffled thud.
Inside he made himself a cup of coffee and trained for hours, enjoying the way the soreness and pain reminded him of his sense of duty and the never-ending need to get even stronger.
When his body was beyond its threshold, Derek stopped and took a shower. After guzzling down a six pack of beer he took out a piece of paper. He stared at it for hours not knowing what to draw. He drank beer after beer and just stared at the blank canvas. He finally began to draw.
He drew his family from memory with him sitting in the furthest right corner. He then filled in Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Isaac, Erica, Boyd and stopped. Staring at the group. He gave each their own expressions of how they would act if this was a family portrait. Allison and Scott would be smiling like goof balls while Lydia and Jackson would give some sort of mall portrait seriousness and Erica and Boyd would just smile, happy to be there. His family would all smile knowing that it was a family portrait and Derek would smile too.
At 3 am, using a few colored pencils he found in the bottom of a large chest in a practically incinerated bedroom to fill in the portrait, he stopped and stared at the picture. It looked amazingly real.
Tired, he edged his way up the stairs throwing off his pants and shirt till he was left in his boxers.
He flopped onto his bed and wrestled with the covers, his mind listening to his heart strum painfully in his chest. Derek rose from his bed with a start; he swore he could hear howling in the distance. He leaped off the stairwell and stood outside his front door listening to see if he could hear or sense any activity in the distance, but nothing stirred.
He returned to his bed, even more tired than he had been before. His sides ached.
After two hours of not falling asleep he stood and walked back down the stairs.
Derek stared at the picture for what seemed like an eternity and at 4am, without thinking, his hand reached for a pencil and began to draw the final piece of the portrait in careful strokes, tracing the curve of his broad smile, filling in his eyes to show how they caught the light and always expressed how he felt, and the comfort of his presence, tucked safely in Derek's arms. As he drew, Derek felt a tightness in his chest, constricting inside him like a snake wrapping around his internal organs.
As the sun rose he stared at the picture, the people looking back at him, radiating happiness.
He placed it in a folder and watched the sun rise alone in a cloudless sky. He felt the warmth touch his bare skin, reminding him that he was alive. Flesh, and blood, and life.
Later that month Stiles met Scott at Betsy's who stared at his jeep which was filled to the brim with Stiles' belongings.
"Dude, you could have totally called" Scott grimaced.
"Nah, I got everything" Stiles pointed though he did have a tearful goodbye with his awesome computer chair with built in lumbar support, but regardless he was home, diploma in hand.
As the two ate their burgers and started on their milkshakes Scott continued the conversation.
"I'm glad you're here man. My partner in crime is back."
"Well I don't know for how long but still, you know till I find a job" Stiles added.
"Well whatever you choose, it's always more fun when you're around."
"Yeah, we find more ways to get ourselves in trouble when we're together." Stiles continued.
"Allison's almost done with school too right?" Stiles asked.
"Yeah. She's finishing up an externship out there before she comes back."
"She found a job out here?" Stiles asked in surprise.
"Yeah in the next county but still close, she was looking since the beginning of her senior year."
Stiles nodded, knowing he should have done the same but was too caught up in his own issues.
"I'm going to ask her to marry me." Scott spoke quietly.
Stiles stopped chomping on his fries. Taken a back and feeling like he had missed the last few chapters in the Allison/Scott romance novella, he quickly returned to form. Of course they were going to get married.
"Wow. Dude congrats!" Stiles thumped Scott on the back, beaming at his best friend.
"Thanks man. I'm nervous." Scott admitted, smiling sheepishly.
Stiles laughed.
"What, like she would say no? When you know you just know right?"
Scott smiled his signature goofy smile that he had given when he met Stiles on the playground the first day of first grade.
"Yeah. Still."
"You need help ring shopping?" Stiles offered.
Scott shook his head.
"Nah, I already found the perfect one."
That one felt like a slap in the face. How much time had passed since Stiles and Scott had 'Bro Time'?
Scott gripped his shoulder.
"Sorry, I was going to ask you but I was walking by an antique store one day after work and saw it in the window. "
Stiles smiled
"Its totally cool man. I'm excited for you."
Scott exhaled
"Yeah."
Stiles remembered when the two lovebirds had first met. It was an instant connection. Scott was one of the lucky ones.
When Stiles got home he was greeted by cold Chinese take out on the dinner table and Brenda Lee's 'Break It to Me Gently' blaring from the stereo. He found his dad lying on the couch sleeping like the dead, a half glass of whiskey on his chest, rising and falling as he slept.
His dad only listened to Brenda Lee when he was really missing his mom.
Stiles took the glass off his father's chest, took a sip, and poured the rest down of it the kitchen sink.
"Dad" stiles gently woke his father.
The Sherriff stirred.
"Hey kiddo, was wondering when you'd get here."
"Scott and I were catching up and we lost track of time. Sorry."
"I love this song." The Sherriff stated wistfully as the chorus kicked in, Brenda Lee's voice crooning sadly through the dark house.
"Me too." Stiles agreed gently.
After getting his father to go upstairs and sleep, Stiles looked over the Chinese food and decided to eat, even thought it was almost 3 am.
He heaped a bunch of greasy Chinese take out onto a plate and sat down with the original Star Wars film. Anyone who really knew him would know why Stiles loved watching it, he was sure he had seen it close to a 150 times and there was no slowing down in sight.
As he sat and ate, his mind wandered as it often did.
Stiles felt weird talking to Scott about his relationship problems, it was most likely due to their past history of Stiles whining about Derek. Scott had asked him how he was doing after the break up but Stiles didn't have to be a werewolf to see how angry Scott got when Stiles recounted what happened or started getting sad from reminiscing.
As soon he fell into bed at an ungodly hour, he started dreaming.
He was back in Dr. Gelsinger's counseling sessions, the friendly lady with the pleasant smile who just let Stiles talk after his mother had passed. He had been uncharacteristically quiet for a while and the Sherriff had been worried enough to put him in twice a week sessions after school. Being able to talk to people who weren't immediately tied into his tragedies made it easier for Stiles to talk. He had done his fair share of crying with his father and he didn't want to burden him further knowing that the Sherriff was being strong for both of them.
In the sessions he listened to kids around his age who had real problems, one he had befriended was Syd. Syd had a deathly phobia of falling and shattering his head on the ground, his acute anxiety so strong that he believed one crack would release his brains like the contents of a cracked egg across the ground at the point of impact. He was so incapacitated by his anxiety that he had to take up permanent residence in the Beacon Hills Sanatorium where he lived in a padded room. Stiles had visited often, bouncing on the cushioned floors and walls, where Syd would finally be able to relax and not feel like his death was around the corner. The two played cards, talked, and played video games. Stiles was even able to convince him to go around the psychiatric ward in a wheelchair, making sure to have him look at the windows which gave glimpses of the outside world.
Trapped in Syd's comfortable cell, Stiles was able to talk again and come to peace with what had transpired. Knowing that he could walk outside without feeling that the earth would swallow him up whole gave him an appreciation for the life he still had to live.
After waking up the next day, Stiles took the liberty of emptying the fridge of anything junk food like and then restocked it with healthier foods. He sat down on the couch with his trusty laptop and searched for jobs and after submitting a few applications he took a nap, a habit he had picked up in college. When he woke he set about making dinner, something he hadn't done often since leaving home. He cooked a Stilinksi family staple, lasagna but substituted with low fat cheese and lean ground turkey instead of beef and added some vegetables in for good measure. When his dad came home from his shift, the two sat down for dinner.
Stiles was uncharacteristically quiet.
"So, you and Steven."
"His name was Mark." Stiles corrected.
"And we aren't together anymore."
"I see." The Sherriff finished nonchalantly, his voice sounding pleased if anything. He didn't like Stiles dating anyone who couldn't muster the courage to meet his family, especially since Stiles' family was small.
"Do you want to talk about it?" The Sherriff offered, finishing his beer ceremoniously.
Stiles shook his head.
He just didn't want to talk to anyone about it. He realized he was still hurting. Derek's rejection and Mark's betrayal made him strange. He felt raw.
The next day, after sleeping till noon, Stiles parked his jeep in the Beacon Hills Hospital parking lot and ventured in, taking the elevator to the third floor where the psychiatric ward helped those who needed assistance with their mental states.
He stepped out of the elevator and found the notice board that listed the individual departments in the psych ward, and the specialists working in each of them. He searched for Dr. Gelsinger but was unable to find her name still listed in the counseling department. He turned the corner and meandered to her office, hoping her replacement was just as nice as she was, when he heard a voice call out to him.
"Stiles?"
Stiles turned to find a guy around his age, his raven colored hair tousling near his shoulders, making his blue eyes even more pronounced. His skin was pale and a little pasty, typical of someone who hadn't been outside in years. He looked like a character out of a gothic novel, his ghostly glow adding somehow to how hauntingly handsome he was. He was sweating and breathing had against the wall next to the elevator, his hands wrapped around himself like a person giving themselves a hug.
"Syd?" Stiles ventured.
"Yeah. You remembered." The youth said with a small smile.
"What are you doing down there?" Stiles questioned.
"Just testing out this new medication. Supposed to help me." Syd nodded to a door with an exit sign painted above it.
"Syd, Syd are you ok?" a soft voice floated towards them. Stiles turned to see a waiflike figure with a mass of red curls approaching them, the red sparking against her ivory colored skin in an almost unreal contrast.
Was he on the set on a Tim Burton film?
When she reached them, she looked over Syd with a frown.
"I told you to wait for me."
"Got a little bit adventurous" Syd supplied with a small smile, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He shifted
"Stiles this is Geraldine." He said presenting the auburn haired girl.
"You can call me Gerry, some people find it easier." She added gently.
"I actually like Geraldine." Stiles responded with a small wave.
"Me too." Syd concurred with a small smile.
She turned to Stiles slowly
"Should we help him back to his room?"
"Maybe we should keep him there for a while, make him learn his lesson?" Stiles offered. Geraldine laughed.
Stiles grabbed Syd, who returned to breathing heavily, eyes shut tightly being led by Stiles back to his room as Geraldine supervised, a hand on Syd's shoulder gliding slowly across the linoleum floored ward with them until they reached Syd's padded room.
"Thanks stiles." Syd gushed, sweat practically dripping from his brow.
"No problem man."
He sat with Syd and Geraldine and caught up with everything they had been going through, even bouncing on the padded floor, remembering how much pleasure he had gotten from doing it a decade ago. He learned that Geraldine, who looked like she was out of a renaissance painting with her mass of hair and soft pink lips that matched her haunting features had Osteogenesis Imperfecta, a condition from which her bones grew abnormally brittle, causing her to be in both arm and leg casts by the time she was 9 years old.
"I broke every single bone in my body by the age of 11" she stated placidly.
Geraldine's family had asked that she stay at the pysch ward and train herself to move carefully and then return to the outside with the new skills now that she was old enough to go to college. He learned that Syd was on a new trial medication to mitigate his anxiety but which left him with bouts of narcolepsy. Stiles was able to talk with them about school and how he had loved living and experiencing something new and different. They told him about their lives and how different they had always felt, how Geraldine was treated like a porcelain statue, not being allowed to join in any games or having the chance to go through normal school. Syd also concurred having been tutored since childhood and people had even made fun of him before entering the sanatorium. They told him how they had found ways to live with their conditions and not be defined by them.
Syd's room was scattered with sketch pads, where hundreds of buildings had been drawn in intricate detail. Syd explained each drawing, stating that despite his fears, he had wanted to be an architect one day. Stiles found architecture books taking up the majority of his library and couldn't help be inspired by how ironic and optimistic they were to Syd's condition.
Stiles felt more comfortable than he had in a long time, there was no judgment, no expectation. Like two refugees from the outside world, Syd and Geraldine liked listening as much as Stiles liked talking, and they admired everything he spoke of. Even the sad things.
So alongside looking for jobs and making sure his father ate homemade meals every day, Stiles spent a great deal of time with his new friends in a padded room. He also observed how Syd stared out into the open expanse of the sky.
"So are you dating anyone Stiles." Syd inquired one day.
"I was." stiles replied off handedly.
"I'm sorry he hurt you." Geraldine offered gently placing her Queen of Spades on the table.
"Ah. Thanks."
He wondered if Geraldine was some sort of psychic or just extremely intuitive. First the "he" and secondly the hurt. How would she have known either?
So he talked. He talked about how Derek had rejected him and how Mark had cheated on him, how he never really felt like Mark and he connected on a deeper level and how much it hurt to find out that he had been betrayed. The emotions rolled out of him and by the time he was done Geraldine was the one listening, nodding quietly while Syd slept on the floor.
"He pushed you away because he cares about you Stiles." Geraldine spoke quietly.
"Uh. No Geraldine." Stiles scoffed.
"He didn't want an annoying kid getting in his way. He wants someone strong."
Geraldine stared at him with an understanding look. After a moment's reflection
"Someone he can respect." Stiles stated in almost a whisper.
Geraldine laughed.
"You don't think you're strong?" She asked.
"Uh yeah. I'm not. I'm just stiles."
"You aren't a kid anymore stiles, see what he has to say." Geraldine urged gently, bypassing any notion of Mark in her conversation.
"I just don't know if I can see him again G. I haven't seen him since that day."
Even after that one day where Stiles had practically been so broken hearted and expected the stupid wolf to be at his door with some chocolates and hugs. Where he had choked and called opening with "what are you up to, oh its 2am. How do you like that?" after that horrible break up. Stupid bastard.
"Do or Do not. There is no try." Geraldine stated gently trying out her best Yoda impersonation, her silvery voice comical in its attempt at a gravelly green alien mentor.
Stiles smiled widely.
"You're quickly becoming my favorite person G." he smirked.
He watched as Geraldine's eyes drifted towards Syd who was beginning to snore quietly.
"So Geraldine will you help me with something?" Stiles started.
"Anything, as long as it's not too strenuous. I might not be too much help if that's the case. But yes, anything." Geraldine smiled lifting an elbow cast.
The next day stiles pushed a wheelchair into the psychiatric ward and quickly located Geraldine in the development disabilities wing, watching as she slowly but gracefully bandaging her legs. She let her dress fall over them and looked like any other girl, if any other girl looked like a princess from a far away land that was locked up in some obscure tower guarded by a moat and fire breathing dragon.
The two found Syd in his room, lying on his back reading an architectural digest magazine in his room.
"Hey guys." He greeted them.
He saw the wheel chair and looked at them curiously.
"What are you doing?"
Stiles held out his hand.
"Syd would I ever hurt you?"
"What. Stiles?"
"Syd would I ever hurt you?" he repeated evenly.
"No. you wouldn't."
"Take my hand."
'Why?" Syd said suspiciously.
Geraldine extended her hand
"Take my hand as well."
"What are you two up to?"
"Would I ever hurt you?" Geraldine asked.
Syd took it as he and Geraldine walked to the exit, Stiles next to them.
"No stiles." Syd balked.
"You have to see what it looks like outside" Stiles coaxed.
"Stiles I can't."
"You have to, it looks amazing."
He held out his hand.
"It's time. We got you."
Syd took his hand.
Stiles sat Syd down and wheeled him slowly towards the exit, the door open revealing the outside world. Syd began sweating uncomfortably. As they reached the exit Stiles brought the wheel chair to a stop.
He held out his hand again.
"Stiles." Syd's voice was traced in fear.
"Syd. You can do this".
Stiles saw fear in his friend's eyes, and a silent determination there as well.
He took Stile's hand with an iron grip. He turned and took Geraldine's hand in the other.
Stiles and Geraldine slowly walked towards the parking lot, which was incidentally made of hard asphalt. He felt Syd grasp tightly around his hand, but Stiles didn't say anything, focusing on reaching the park where the autumn foliage was out in its full glory.
It felt like a lifetime, and Syd's vice grip on his hand felt like the bones in his hands were splintering into pieces, but the trio kept walking towards the grass.
A small snap, like the sound of a twig breaking reached Stiles ears.
"Ah. My finger broke." Geraldine reflected nonchalantly.
"Are you alright? Do we need to go back?" Syd inquired, Stiles could feel the anxiety coursing through his voice.
Geraldine shook her head with a smile.
They finally reached the grassy area where the trees grew naturally, their leaves turning red, yellow, and orange in a mirage of explosive color that made Syd stop in his tracks.
"It's amazing" he whispered like a child seeing Disneyland for the first time.
Syd breathing was still intense, like he had run a mega marathon, but his grip on stiles now tortured hand eased slightly, the three stared at the vista before them, the sunlight playing across their faces as they stood in silence enjoying the company of nature.
Stiles realized how much he missed the little things in life.
Syd's breathing was stabilizing slowly. From the corner of his eye Stiles noticed how Syd turned to exchange smiles with Geraldine.
"Can I lay down?" Syd asked, his wonder of the beautiful scene fading as his anxiety returned.
"Yeah of course man."
So Syd lay down on the carpet of leaves his breathing slowing down gradually.
"Wow. That's the sky. I haven't seen it in 15 years." Syd reflected in wonder.
Stiles laid down, hand still tightly trapped in Syd's and Geraldine on his other side, her hand laced across his forehead. Even now, her index finger was swelling to an angry red, but she didn't shed a single complaint, willing to stay by his side and share the experience. The three stared into the sky.
"It really is beautiful." Geraldine whispered, her words catching on the breeze.
"It feels so different when you're actually here." Syd murmured quietly, the guy had obviously dreamed for years about doing something as easy as walking outside, enjoying what the world had to offer.
Stiles couldn't help noticing the way Geraldine looked at Syd and how he leaned into her gentle touches, even a blind man could see that the two were in love.
He turned away his breath tight in his chest.
Are you OK stiles? Syd's voice came labouredly.
Yeah, just something in my eye. You know, pollen. Stiles murmured in response.
Everyone was falling in love around him, and he, he was just there.
Stiles regained his composure.
"You know you could always lie down when it gets too much Syd." Stiles offered.
"Geraldine's been helping me with it. But you know in the outside world, it would look weird just lying down somewhere, like on the sidewalk. Or a busy street."
"People would think I was crazy." Syd finished.
Stiles giggled inappropriately, and his giggles turned into loud, inappropriate laughs that rolled out of him like water from a spring, infectiously flooding his companions senses, the three of them laughing into the setting sky like, well, lunatics.
It was the first time Stiles had laughed like that since Mark.
It was dusk when the three finally stood from their sky watching expedition. As the three approached the psychiatric wing, Stiles saw a man in a leather jacket that reminded him of Derek's, holding a folder in his hand, watching them from the parking lot. Stiles' stomach jumped, wondering if it really was the alpha. As he stared back, a car pulled out of the parking lot obscuring his view, and when it had moved, the figure was gone.