It had taken multiple tries and many days to get to this point, where Dr. Greumach was finally sitting in front of Derek Hale in a dim sitting room not too far from his bedroom. There were no pictures; all had been taken by the others like Boyd said. Francine didn't know that he also meant this room as well. Which implied that Derek sometimes visited this room as well.
However, in light of the recent trials getting back to this circumstance, Dr. Greumach decided not to broach the subject of Stiles Stilinski just yet. "Well Derek, what do you want to talk about?"
Derek said nothing, crimson eyes staring into what seemed like another world. A world that she couldn't hope to reach.
"Come on Sourwolf, one mistletoe isn't gonna kill you!"
"Derek, I can't help unless you talk to me," Francine implored, "We don't have to talk about *him* just yet, I already told you we don't. Now please answer my question. What is it that you want to talk about?"
Nothing. It was like wherever Derek had transported to wouldn't let him go back. This was a common sign for grieving fiances or spouses of course, but usually after weeks of prying they would at least say a word, at least in Francine's cases.
But this one...he simply refused to come back to Earth.
"HOLY F--Derek, if you don't stop with that werewolf ninja thing, I am going to have a heart attack!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just get into bed with a warning next time, asshole."
Francine finally decided after another 3 days of one-sided conversation that she would just wait until Derek looked her in the eye. She settled in the chair and watched as Derek continued to zone, unreachable.
"Why are you acting so surprised that I'm saying yes? First of all, asking someone to marry you means that you're expecting that. Second, you know I love you. Yeah that's right, I'm saying I love you. We don't say it much, but we should, 'cause it feels really nice to tell you. Try it sometime, yeah? Now get up and put the ring on me, you sexy werewolf you."
"Why did you come here if you're just going to sit there?"
Francine perked up, meeting Derek's eyes for the first time in almost a month. "Well Derek, you were not here to talk. I was just waiting. Do I have your attention now?"
Derek looked dangerously close to slipping back into his little world, but he spoke again. "I don't want to talk about anything, especially when it's obvious you're going to talk about him one way or another."
"I am sorry, but it's my job. You have to talk about him, otherwise there is no hope for you to move on."
"You don't get it. There is no moving on. I can't, and I don't want to."
"You won't lose him forever if you do, Derek."
"I've already lost him."
"Alright, so you are not in denial that he is gone?"
"How can I possibly deny it when I watched him die?"
Francine started to write on her pad. "You watched him? How did he die?"
"You should know. I can see the files sticking out of your bag."
True. With Derek's staring into space, Francine decided to look into Stiles Stilinski some more. He was an exceptional student, with a bright future ahead of him after graduating with Ms. Lydia Martin at Stanford. He showed particular interest in folklore and the culinary arts while attending there on a scholarship. The cause of his death, judging by the horrific wounds, was murder. This nice kid had been shot multiple times, as well as stabbed in the jugular, assumingly for good measure. The killers were yet to be found.
"Do you know who killed him then?" Francine asked, "And why?"
Derek's teeth clenched, and if she didn't know better, she could have sworn his eyes started to glow. "He was killed because of me."
"Oh, man...this is gonna...ruin my whole day..."
"Aw, Derek, don't do that...blaming yourself thing...this...this wasn't you're fault."
"No. It wasn't. Stop saying...just stop it."
"You ca--you can't bite me now. You...you know it won't work..."
"I'm sorry I...I couldn't drag you...down the aisle...make you say your vows an' stuff..."
"Heh...love you too...Sourwolf..."
"Derek? Derek, stay with me."
Derek's wolf wanted nothing more than to slaughter this ignorant woman. There was nothing she could do. His mate was dead, and no matter what Stiles had whispered as his breaths shortened, it was his fault. If he had made Stiles stay home with his father, that stupid kid wouldn't have come running into the forest in the middle of a fight with a rival pack. One of the humans wouldn't have finished him off.
He continued to ignore the bitch in front of him. All he wanted to do was surround himself in memories. Memories of a better time. If only the present could just be a dream...a horrible, horrible dream that he would wake up from in a cold sweat any minute and find Stiles next to him, demanding to know what was wrong. Derek could almost see it now...
A sigh escaped Dr. Greumach's lips. Perhaps she finally realized what a lost cause he was.
Francine stopped by the police station to visit the Sheriff. He looked pretty torn up as well, but at least he was functioning properly.
"Sheriff Stilinski, I don't know what else I can do here," she shrugged a shoulder, "I have never had a case like this before. I recommend that Derek Hale should either be put into the better care of a mental insitution, or keep a 24 hour surveillance on him at his home to he doesn't...well, try anything."
Sheriff Stilinski sighed, looking as if he expected her to say something like that. "Yeah, I get it. Thanks for trying, Doc."
Dr. Greumach drove back to her own house two towns over, where her neighbor of about 3 months was just taking out the trash.
In an instant, she was out of the car and tapping on his shoulder. "Excuse me, um, Peter, isn't it?"
He blinked. "Yeah. Francine, right? Is something wrong?"
"...no, it's just...you looked familiar, is all."
Peter Bolinski smiled. "Well, yeah, I live next door? It would be weird if I didn't look familiar by now."
Francine laughed, "Right, right. Sorry to bother you."
Peter turned on his way back to his house.
"Peter...I have to ask. See, you're living on your own, but...aren't you 19? Don't you have family?"
His eyes glazed over for a second. "Yeah, I...I..." he rubbed his head like it hurt, "Well, I mean I used to. They died, though, in a house fire. My sister and I were at school."
"Where's your sister?"
"She was found in the woods a couple towns over. Not really something I wanna talk about, no offense."
"Sorry, sorry. Can I just...could I ask you something else?"
"Have I become one of your patients, Doc?"
"Can't I be curious about my neighbor? We've hardly talked for 3 months."
Peter chuckled. "Guess that's true. You wanna ask your question inside, then?"
"Now would be better, if you don't mind. I have to get inside soon, feed my cat."
"Me too. Well, I have a dog. Big black one named Derek. What's your question?"
"What were you doing before you moved here?"
Peter raised an eyebrow. He replied, "Well, I...I, um..." he blinked slowly, "I was...I think I was..." he smiled suddenly, "I'm too tired to remember right now. Sorry, it's been a really long day. I commute at the college down the street, and the professors were brutal today."
"Oh, well then, I'll let you get back to it. Have a nice night."
Francine shook her head once the door was closed. She was just being silly.