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I'll Always Comfort You

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Stiles was prone to nightmares.

Ever since he was a small boy he had nightmares. He didn't know why, his parents didn't know, and neither did the doctors. They decided on an overactive imagination and even blamed his ADHD on the nightmares. Some nights he was okay, for weeks on end he'd dream of random things and faces and some nights were dreamless. But then again they'd always return and when the supernatural was introduced into his life it only got worse. Stiles had lost count of the amount of times he had woken up from gleaming red eyes and snarls in the middle of the darkness. His back and forehead damp with sweat as he sucked in deep breaths and leaned against the headboard. The window open and brushing in a cool breeze.

Stiles never told anyone apart from Scott about his nightmares. Scott understood and consoled him at school when he came in tired from lost sleep. His hand rubbed his back gently and he was easy on him for the rest of the day. No amount of putting off sleep and energy drinks and tablets would stop it. So of course he had to get possessed by a demon and absolutely ruin himself for years and years. He was mentally and physically
exhausted, his body and spirit torn apart.

It was a week after that he was lying on the bed, his eyes burning at two in the morning with Netflix on his iPad. In reality he should be sleeping but then again he didn't have to go to school tomorrow. His dad didn't want him going to school, wanted him to recover, but it was also torture watching his dad watch him with wary sad eyes. Stiles inhaled deeply rubbing his eyes and turned grabbing his phone. No new messages. He bit his lip opening up his messages and hovered over the messages to Derek. They had been sharing messages on and off for a few days now. It was a weird relationship but it felt nice to talk to someone who wasn't Scott and his dad.

Stiles dropped his phone deciding not to wake him up and shut down the iPad for some sleep. The moon was out but not yet full when he turned on his side and stared out. His heavy eyes closed and he breathed in and out deeply slowly ebbing into sleep.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was stood in the middle of the forest completely alone. Eyes wide as he took in his surroundings he looked around and quickly glanced at his hands. Eleven fingers. He was dreaming, this was a dream. It was what he told himself over and over again. Even when he could hear something in the distant, a low whinnying sound that went through him and chilled him to the bone. It didn't sound human and the pitch soon increased like finger nails down a pane of glass. Stiles slapped his hands over his ears and turned running through the trees and into the darkness. Leaves and twigs snapped behind him as whatever was behind him gave chase.

Stiles panted harshly using the trees to get away from the monsters tracking him and he yelped in pain when a claw got his back. His hands hit the floor and he tucked his legs up flipping over and stared up at nothing. It was gone as he sucked in deep breaths and frantically looked around. His shirt was damp when he looked down and paused at the dark stain there. He lifted his hands up to the moonlight and shuddered at the dark liquid covering them. No doubt it was blood.

Stiles stood slowly, hands shaking as he looked around and yelped at the hiss behind his right ear. He spun and paused in horror taking in the sight of his dad's lifeless body on the floor. Eyes open and lifeless staring up at the night sky, throat ripped out, chest and stomach mushy and bloody.

“Oh god, oh my god, oh my god,” Stiles chanted to himself as he shook his head and turned away. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

His feet were bare and bloodied when he ran hitting branches and he shouted unintelligible words as he ran. The thing yet again chasing him as he desperately ran from his misery and pain. The thing hit his back causing him to fall so he twisted and screamed staring up at the black monsters with mad yellow eyes as it screeched down at him.

He fought desperately jerking himself out of his sleep and woke up with a gasp. Chest tight, eyes damp as he sobbed softly, and his sheets damp with sweat. Stiles scrambled for his phone despite the fact it was half four in the morning he hit dial. It rang three times before he answered.

“Stiles,” Derek's sleepy voice answered. Stiles sucked in a deep shuddering breath at his voice and closed his wet eyes. “Stiles?”

“I, uh, I had a nightmare, I'm sorry for waking you up, it just...” he trailed off with a hard swallow. Stiles could hear the rustling of sheets as he readjusted in his bed. “I just needed -”

“Hold on.”

The phone clicked off and Stiles pulled it away from his ear confused. It had been disconnected. Hurt blazed high in his chest and he tossed his phone away with a miserable sound. He kicked the sheets off and reached under the bed for the fresher and nicer ones. Stiles turned his pillow over and laid back down with a heavy but soft sigh. His eyes burned and he sniffed wetly. The offense and hurt still bothered him and he was about to get his laptop when a knock downstairs made him pause.

His dad was on the night shift tonight, something he couldn't dodge despite his protests. Stiles had insisted they get back to normal and that meant going back to work. Stiles pulled on his jumper against the chill and headed downstairs quietly. His hand paused and hovered for a moment before he yanked open the front door. Derek was stood on the other side to his shock looking a little out of breath.

“Are you okay?”

“You ran here,” Stiles stated, hand moving to pick the stray leaf out of his hair. “You actually ran here, is that why you hung up?”

“You try running on the phone.”

Stiles huffed out a small amused laugh and stepped back letting him inside. It was a cool night and Derek smelled of the earth, fresh air, and the ever present smell of his aftershave. Stiles loved it, he was actually a little addicted to the smell.

“You look terrible.”

“I feel it,” Stiles murmured honestly, his eyes closing when Derek's hands cupped his face tilting it back to look at him.

“How many fingers?”

“Ten,” Stiles noted looking at his own and Derek's. Derek nodded slowly, hands dropping from his face and Stiles missed them already. Derek took control though gripping his hand and leading them upstairs. In any other case it would have been quite sexy but Stiles was in no mood for sex.

Derek laid down on the bed after kicking off shoes and taking off his jacket. Stiles eyed him carefully and raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“Come on.”

Stiles smiled at him softly and moved to lie on his bed, thankfully it was now double and they could lie and fit easily. He didn't even question it and placed his head on his chest. It wasn't like this was the first time but it didn't happen often. Like he explained, his relationship was tentative with Derek and it was literally baby steps. But since the possession things had changed, things he wasn't sure he could admit to yet.

“Just...a nightmare. In the forest, being chased, my dad was dead. It got me and...I couldn't move, I could only scream,” he murmured, hand twisting in his shirt. “I felt weak, trapped, I just...I hate being like this.”

Stiles sat up sighing softly and rubbed his heels into his eyes till it hurt and Derek dragged his hands down.

“You're not weak.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Listen to me,” Derek snapped softly, tilting his chin towards him so he swallowed hard and looked into his eyes. “You have never been weak. Not since I've known you, you've always been strong. You wouldn't be here alive and okay if you weren't strong.”

Stiles could feel his lips part staring into his eyes and he unconsciously moved them to look at Derek's inviting lips. Okay maybe he was strong but he felt like a little coward. Stiles gripped the blanket underneath him as they sat in each others personal spaces.

“It doesn't feel like it when I'm waking up screaming my head off.”

“Because you're healing. Trust me, the nightmares never fade, but,” he trailed off with a heavy sigh. “It does get better. They're right about that.”

Stiles nodded taking his hand and squeezing it. Of course he knew of the same.

“If you need me, I'm here,” Derek murmured.

Stiles tucked his head leaning it against his shoulder, Derek's thumb rubbing the top of his hand. Derek quietly moved them to lie back down, his hand rubbing the bottom of his back as he lay on top of him. His tiredness and exhaustion was finally affecting him as he shut his eyes. Stiles obviously had fallen asleep because his dream was nothing but empty space. In his subconscious he knew he was safe and warm which is why he slept so heavily. He didn't wake up till around nine thirty that next morning and what woke him up was the sound of a car alarm outside. Warm arms surrounded him under the covers and he adjusted to the light flooding the room and turned his head to Derek. Derek who was still sleeping deeply curled around him. There was a strange flutter to his chest and he rolled onto his back feeling how heavy his bladder was. Derek seemed to sense the disturbance and opened his eyes slowly.

Stiles pressed his lips together watching him adjust to the room and lift his head squinting confused before it finally dawned him. His head hit the pillow and he inhaled deeply watching him.

“Okay?”

“I slept so deeply, you really helped,” Stiles answered honestly.

“Glad I could help.”

“You've done more than that, you've done so much for me. Tried to save my life and I just,” Stiles began and was silenced by Derek covering his mouth.

“Don't, it doesn't need to be said. How many times have we saved each others life?”

Stiles laughed sharply and stretched his arms over his head. “Too many times dude.”

“Then don't.”

Stiles inhaled deeply listening to the faint snore of his dad in his bedroom. Did he look in on them? If he did he clearly didn't mind. Derek was looking at the side of his face and Stiles turned his body to look at him.

“Can I try something?”

Derek nodded slowly watching him and Stiles moved slowly watching his movement and facial expression as he leaned in and pressed his lips to his. It was a slow and hesitant kiss, a brush of lips before he pulled back. Derek blinked slowly and before he could move back and apologize a hand seized the back of his neck.

“That was nice but I think,” Derek murmured, encouraging him back in and kissing him harder. Stiles moaned softly in surprise, hand landing him on his shoulder and neck to keep him level. The kisses were soft as they parted for breath and his head felt cloudy and light once they finally parted. His stomach rumbled on cue and he snorted embarrassed glancing at it.

“What a way to ruin my most perfect kiss,” he muttered, pushing his thumb into his mouth to nibble the skin. Derek huffed softly pulling it out and nudging his shoulder.

“Let's get breakfast.”

“Okay,” he nodded, smiling weakly when Derek stole a quick kiss from him before leaving his bed. Stiles twisted the blanket in his hands listening to him go downstairs, his eyes flicked to the bed. He knew his nightmares weren't going anywhere but he was hopeful for them to subside. Hopefully with Derek by his side.