Author's Note: So, I know that this chapter is a little on the short side.
But!
The next chapter will hopefully more than make up for that.
Stiles barely made it outside to the parking lot after school the next day when Lydia cornered him and ordered him to accompany her to an early dinner. Stiles knew it was a ploy for her to find out what happened the night before, no doubt having heard part of the story from one of the others, but he dutifully followed her to their usual diner anyway, sliding into the booth across from her and waiting for the inquisition.
He hadn't had to wait long. As soon as they sat down and ordered their drinks Lydia fixed him with an anticipatory stare and the story had just fallen right out of his mouth, landing between them on the table to glare up at Stiles, making him squirm. Lydia's own disappointed look hit Stiles where it hurt, had his intense desire to go back in time, take back the words he'd tossed out with the sole intention of causing Derek pain, increasing tenfold.
Even Stiles, as upset with Derek as he was, didn't actually blame him for what happened, not really. It was more the fact that Derek was unreachable afterward, MIA and incommunicado, when Stiles needed him the most that left him with the bitter taste of betrayal on his tongue. The fact that Derek wasn't there at all, before, during or after, was just the knife twisting in the wound, making blood gush out every time Stiles thought he'd finally begun to heal.
"So, basically what you're telling me here is that you're not only a giant coward, but you are also a massive asshole?" Lydia lifted one judgmental but impeccably shaped eyebrow, stabbing viciously at the perfectly innocent salad on her plate.
"That about sums it up, yes." Stiles nodded, lips pressed flat. When Lydia continued to pin him with her dark look Stiles sighed. "I know, okay? I know. I'm a dick, I get it."
"How long do you think you're going to be able to hide the fact that you're a werewolf?" she asked before popping a cherry tomato into her mouth, watching him expectantly while she chewed.
Stiles heaved a heavy sigh and poked at his untouched milkshake with his straw, unable to muster up the energy to be grateful for her letting him off without a full-blown lecture. "Not nearly as long as I'd like." he admitted sullenly.
"Namely forever?" Lydia fluttered innocent lashes but Stiles knew better.
He ignored her, running fingers through hair that stuck up in every direction from the constant push of his hands through it. "I just need long enough to figure out how to deal with this whole anchor thing." he grumbled.
Stiles wasn't dumb. He knew that his wolfiness wouldn't go unnoticed for long, even with the rope charm tied around his ankle. If he were being honest, he had to admit he was surprised he'd managed to keep it hidden this long. Twenty four hours seemed like a lifetime, though, and Stiles found himself thanking his lucky stars for every second he got to go without someone spilling the beans. Eventually Derek was going to have to learn the truth, and Stiles could only hope he would have enough time between now and then to convincingly lie his ass off about his anchor.
"You do know that someone is going to let it slip, right?" Lydia frowned thoughtfully. "Probably soon, too, because that's just the way these things work. It's practically a miracle no one has said anything yet, to be honest."
"I'm aware. I just... I don't want him to find out that he was right. I know how dumb that sounds, okay?" he defended halfheartedly when she gave him a look. "He's always been so fucking sure that I was going to get myself killed someday, you know? Forgive me for not being eager to prove him right."
"You're right." Lydia nodded primly. "That is dumb. Almost as dumb as you not wanting him to know because you're too afraid to tell him that he's your anchor."
Stiles slid his glass away, his stomach twisting up in knots. He crossed his arms on the table between them then propped his chin on top, looking up at Lydia through his lashes. "Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't my anchor have been normal, like everyone else's?"
Lydia gave him a bored look. "Yours is just like everyone else's." she informed him, a clear admonishment. "You're just too stubborn to admit it. It's actually kind of sad, really, the way you keep trying to justify hiding all of this from him."
"Can we not do this right now, Lydia?" Stiles begged, burying his face in the crook of his arm. "I told you! Isn't that enough?"
"Absolutely." Stiles straightened up at that, a hopeful feeling bubbling up inside him. Lydia, however, was a cruel, dream crushing woman. "If I were a tall, dark, and stubbled werewolf whom you want to climb like a tree and then cuddle like the bunnies you think no one knows you frolic through the forest with." she finished with a sweet smile.
"First of all, we do not frolic. The bunnies and I enjoy an equally beneficial relationship, which just happens to include occasional napping." Stiles corrected indignantly, eyes narrowed. "Stop judging us, Lydia." He ignored her burst of laughter, lowering his voice to what would probably be a threatening tone if he were trying to intimidate anyone other than Lydia Martin, and said, "Second, if you think that I won't dye your hair while you sleep if you ever repeat that sentence outside of the booth in which we currently reside, you are sorely mistaken."
Lydia laughed again at that, eyes twinkling with humor. "Sweetie," she said, leaning forward to curl a tiny hand around his forearm, "you know that I love you, but I will tear your lungs out through your nose if you ever so much as look at me with a bottle of hair dye in your hand."
Stiles grinned. "You always say the sweetest things to me, Lydia."
Half an hour later, as they walked from the diner to their cars, arms entwined, Lydia asked, "Would it really be so bad?"
"Telling Derek that I have feelings for him, or telling Derek that I'm a werewolf and he's my anchor?" Stiles questioned tiredly, head down, eyes fixed firmly on the ground.
"All of it." She shrugged as they reached her car and Stiles opened the door for her. "He cares about you, Stiles. Even when you're acting like a complete douchebag."
"Really?" Stiles chuckled darkly, meeting her eyes with a bland expression. "Because he sure seems to have an odd way of showing it. What with the constant running for the hills and everything."
Rolling her eyes, Lydia slid in behind the steering wheel of her car. "You're both idiots."
Stiles' mouth turned down deeply at the corners. "I've been hearing that a lot lately." he observed, wondering whether or not that should bother him. When Lydia didn't respond, just kept watching him as though expecting him to agree with her he added, "I get that the pack thinks they're helping, dropping hints and being pushy, but... Why can't any of you understand that I'm just not ready?"
"Oh, honey." Lydia reached out to lay her hand over his where it still rested on her door. "No one is ever ready to take that kind of risk. Laying it all on the line, giving someone else the power to destroy you? That's always going to be terrifying. But, what about what could come after? Are you willing to spend the rest of your life wondering what you could have had if you hadn't been too afraid to ask for it?"
Stiles swallowed thickly, feeling like Lydia had just reached down into his soul and yanked, pulling every single "What if?" to the surface. She smiled tenderly at him for a beat, a reassuring smile that almost made him wonder if she knew something he didn't.
"You're not a coward, Stiles. Stop acting like one." she told him, letting her hand slip away from his so that she could grab the handle and pull her door closed, turning the key in the ignition and driving away before he could formulate a response.
Stiles stared after her, frowning with his whole face as he ran her words over and over in his head. He'd never thought of himself as a coward. In fact, just the opposite. Stiles was normally the first one to rush into a situation, diving in head first without a second thought for his own safety or the long term consequences. But, maybe Lydia had a point. Maybe he was a coward, choosing to hide who he was from someone he'd always been able to trust, just because he was afraid of the fallout.
Stiles was climbing into the driver's seat with a heavy heart, ready to head home and drown his feelings in a Marvel marathon, when his phone chirped with a message. Scott's name caught his eye so he pulled up the text, cringing as he read:
-Pack meeting at Derek's. Now.
Stiles groaned and slammed his head back against the headrest. "I must have killed a leprechaun at some point and this is his ghost straight up screwing with me." he grumbled moodily as he started the Jeep and reluctantly steered it back toward town, toward Derek's.
Derek stood by the massive window in his loft, staring down at the parking lot. He wasn't waiting for Stiles to pull up, he was keeping an eye out for Lydia. His neighborhood could be dangerous... In full daylight... With a whole pack of werewolves a few stories up.
… Whatever, he wasn't waiting for Stiles.
Stiles hadn't returned any of Derek's texts, wouldn't answer any of his calls, and Derek was sliding past concerned, straight into flat out annoyed. Not knowing what was really going on with Stiles was driving him crazy, making his wolf antsy and his skin feel too small for his frame. Something was wrong, something bigger than just Stiles being pissed off at him for leaving. There were bigger factors at play and Derek was beyond frustrated that he couldn't seem to get his mind to figure out what. Every time he tried it was like he came up against a wall, a roadblock in his brain that wouldn't budge, wouldn't let him properly analyze what little information he had.
The pack was of absolutely no help, either. All of them had been mum on the subject, save for Erica who would only cryptically say, "I thought the shift would be obvious." with a shrug. Asking Scott felt like cheating, like going behind Stiles' back. Even if Stiles' words from the previous night haunted him, made his stomach roil and burn, had him wondering what could have happened in his absence that was bad enough that Scott had to step in to save Stiles, Derek still couldn't make himself ask Scott for more information than Stiles was willing to give.
Not that Scott would tell Derek anything, regardless. Those two were like two sides of a coin, so close that nothing in the known universe could pry them apart. Scott would never betray Stiles' confidence like that, not even to Derek.
He could ask Malia but that felt wrong, too. He couldn't bring himself to put her in that situation, having to choose between loyalty to her boyfriend and loyalty to her family.
Running low on options, Derek decided that the only thing left to do was corner Stiles and ask him outright. The pack meeting gave him the perfect opportunity, assuming Stiles actually showed up and wasn't willing to let his avoidance of Derek interfere with his pack duties.
"Lydia's here." Derek called over his shoulder, watching her pull into the lot and step out of her car.
Most of the pack was already there, having been closer than Lydia and Stiles when the text went out. Allison, Isaac, and Liam had arrived with Scott. Boyd, Erica, Kira and Malia had been a few minutes behind, almost immediately followed by Chris, Parrish, Jackson and Danny. The pack was sprawled loosely around the loft, draped over furniture and settled on cushions wherever they pleased.
"Good, we need to get started." Scott, slouched low on the couch between Isaac and Allison, pushed himself upright and walked over to Derek, peering out to watch Lydia cross the lot. "Huh. I thought Stiles would be with her."
Derek tried not to look interested but seemingly failed.
"They were together the last I knew." Scott shrugged, turning back to the rest of the pack just as the elevator kicked into gear and headed up with Lydia inside.
By the time Lydia made it into the loft, Derek was trying to distract himself by listening to Parrish explain something about a case the Sheriff was working on. He wasn't paying particular attention but was still startled when Lydia headed straight for the kitchen, catching his eye along the way and motioning him to follow.
"Look," she started the moment Derek came in behind her, spinning on her heel to face him, "I know that you have a severe allergy to apologizing, especially when it comes to Stiles, but you need to fix this."
Derek, taken aback by the confrontational redhead radiating concern and aggravation at him, stilled halfway to hopping up on a stool at the stainless steel island. Regrouping and settling on the seat, he quirked a questioning brow at her. "I'm sure that you know I tried that already. He basically told me to get lost, Lydia. What else would you like me to do?"
"Tell him." she said simply, her expression challenging him to put up a fight.
Derek swallowed thickly, ignoring the way his skin tingled with nerves. "I don't know what-"
"Bullshit." Lydia glared daggers at him, crossing her arms over her breasts. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. This has gotten way out of hand, Derek. You two are supposed to fight, but not like this. It's unnatural, you guys not even talking to each other unless it's to hurl insults. So, tell. Him. And, soon."
"Wait." Derek's hand shot out without his permission, landing on her arm as she passed him to halt her leaving. "What about Malia?"
"What about her?" Lydia questioned, brows knotted together in question. "They've been broken up for weeks. Malia's already moved on, why shouldn't Stiles?"
"I didn't." Derek paused, took a breath to steady his rapidly thudding heart. "I didn't know that was over. He didn't... He never said."
"Of course he didn't." Lydia rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful.
Derek hesitated, unsure if asking Lydia crossed one of the lines he'd drawn for himself. "He smells... Is there someone else?" he settled on, hoping it was both vague enough that he hadn't actually asked anything specific and clear enough that Lydia got the gist of what he was trying not to ask.
Confusion darkened her eyes for a beat before they cleared and softened, a delicate, knowing smirk curling her lips. "The wolf, right?"
Derek nodded jerkily, ignoring the flare of jealousy in his belly at the confirmation of another wolf in Stiles' life.
"That part, I'll let him explain." She pinched Derek's cheek just this side of painfully, giving him a look that told him she thought he was an idiot but still loved him anyway. "Stiles has been dealing with a lot the last few weeks, Derek, has been through even more. After everything, he deserves to be happy, to know that there's someone who cares about him the way he deserves. It was never going to be me, and even though it was almost Malia, I think we both know who it's supposed to be."
Derek snorted. "Are you trying to pin us with fate, Lydia?" he queried, grinning despite the nervous swoop in his belly.
"Call it whatever you want." She returned his grin, confident that she had him right where Stiles needed him. "Fate, Kismet, Karma, Destiny... It doesn't matter what you call it. In the long run, the only thing that matters is that you both get your shit together and let it happen."
"Come on, guys! Stiles just pulled up." Isaac called from the living room, breaking the heavy silence that followed Lydia's proclamation.
Lydia offered Derek one last look before she went out to join the others, leaving him to stew in his own tangled thoughts. Taking a deep breath in an effort to stop his hands from shaking, Derek followed a minute later.