Actions

Work Header

We only have to remember to turn on the light.

Work Text:

Title:We only have to remember to turn on the light.
Author: pseudofoucault333 // Redtintedhale
Rating: T
Pairing: Stiles/Derek
POV: 3rd
Summary:It had been a while since Stiles had had a bad day. Stiles finds out that Derek is leaving and Derek comes to help with the fall out. But when push comes to shove will Derek still be so fixated on leaving town and Stiles?
Disclaimer: The whole concept of Teen Wolf © the satan that is Jeff Davis , don’t sue because the contents of my bank account is only worth next to nothing in US$. Also and I can't stress this enough I don't give permission for this or any other of my stuff to be reposted on Goodreads or anywhere else. If I find out it is I'll be pissed. Plot mostly based on fiction…i.e not real….but a girl can wish<3 title © J.K. Rowling.
Author Notes: unbeta'd Comments and Kudos = pwp and cookies :D

It had been a while since Stiles had had a bad day. Back after the Nogitsune he’d had them day in and day out. Not being able to feel anything, not smiling, not wanting to get out of bed or be surrounded by the pack because he was sure it was his fault. His fault that both Allison and Aiden were dead, why Scott couldn't look him in the eye any more and why the other members of the pack seemed to scatter like scared squirrels when he walked into a room.

It had seemed like it would only get worse, even with his therapy appointments with Marin since there was really no other counsellor really qualified to handle what he’d been through, the thought of Derek leaving had him on the knife’s edge of falling off the deep end. Which was why none of the pack told him, because they knew the impact it would have and thought it best. But they had made a slip up and not told his dad about the plan.

The day had seemed like any other, him lying awake as the sun shone in through the curtains after another sleepless night. Of him waiting until he heard the sheriff get up before pushing him self out of bed for a shower. Of him dressing in a new set of clothes in the hopes that it would stop the constant itching under his skin and going down to breakfast to eat as much as would please his dad before he went to work.

It was a routine they’d long since got into, routines helping to ease the depression and the anxiety so Marin always said. But more a case of if Stiles didn’t have it he’d do nothing all day and just let his brain run itself in circles, taunting him with how it was his fault; everything was his fault. And that was a dangerous place to be in. As his dad had learned a few times in the beginning when he came home to a bottle of whiskey emptied beside an unconscious Stiles or coming in the house just as Stiles was on the breaking point of scratching the skin of his wrists until they bled. At least his way the Sheriff could help him, motivate him if nothing else.

Stiles sat down at the table, fidgeting with the contents of his bowl of cereal while over looking his dad’s bacon sandwich. His dad had just set a cup of coffee down in front of him along with the sugar bowl when he said it, with a frown as he looked at his phone.

“Did you know Derek was leaving?”

Stiles dropped his spoon into the cereal bowl, his lip beginning to shake as he stared at the cereal.

“Stiles, did you know?”

Stiles swallowed and let his lips fall open in the hopes that some words would come out but wasn’t surprised when nothing did.

“I just thought if you’d known you would have told me so we could say our goodbyes,” The Sheriff said, uneasily as he pushed his phone in his pocket.

“I didn’t, dad.”

Finally the words came, only three but it seemed to be enough for his dad to turn and look at him, really look at him.

“Oh. Oh Stiles…” The sheriff said, watching his son push the bowl and coffee aside and start to make a hasty retreat from the table towards the stairs.

“Stiles!” his dad’s voice called after him once his bedroom door closed behind him. Once he’d locked it and sunk to the floor with his back rested against the wood. His face buried in his knees and his hands shaking against his shins, the tears falling and his eyes closed tightly as his thoughts started to race.

Of course he wouldn’t want to stay! Why would have after what you did?

Why would he want to stay in the town where his family were killed just because of a screw up like you?

You’re nothing but a spastic little shit who can’t even protect himself from being possessed.

You couldn’t even save your own MOTHER!

Each thought caused his body to shake and his tears to fall down his cheeks; for his legs to finally fall out his grip and just sit there like a detached part of himself. All he could think of was Derek, who had been the reason he was fighting this so hard in the first place.

Derek had been the one who was there for him through the recovery from the Nogitsune’s onslaught. The guy who spent nights sitting in his desk chair watching over him through the nightmares, being there when he needed him to be, telling him stories to distract himself and keeping him connected to the pack when Stiles just stopped caring. If he hadn't had Derek to fight for it would have been much worse. He would have given up months ago.

Because he knew what Derek had gone through. How the fire had affected him, how Paige’s death had affected him, how Kate had used him, how Jennifer had used him, how Peter had lied to him and how Laura’s death had devastated him. That Cora was the only thing that Derek was still fighting for, because he didn’t see himself as pack and probably never would. That he’d given up on Peter and couldn't accept Malia no matter how the pack seemed to think that he should. It was a defence mechanism and Stiles knew it.

So no there wasn’t really a reason for Derek and Cora to stay, but Stiles had at least thought maybe…just maybe Derek would have told him instead of him having to hear it through the restricted grapevine. That Derek would have told him the why and the where. Yet it really did seem like he was nothing more to Derek than that spastic little kid that had held him up in a pool.

“Stiles! Open the door!” His dad sounded worried but Stiles just didn’t want to handle this. Didn't want to deal with a reality without Derek in it. Derek was leaving, the Pack was keeping their distance and would probably kick him out, his dad would be much better without him around....

“Stiles!”

He heard the window open, though didn’t pay it much attention, just swallowed through the tears as the thoughts ran circles around him. About being so worthless that no-one would ever or could ever love him. That he wasn’t made to be loved; that he would have to get used to it and the loneliness that he was destined for. It wasn’t fair that his own brain was rebelling against him so harshly, and he was struggling to breathe as a panic attack set in slowly. His heart racing against his chest and his head light though it didn’t stop the thoughts.

“Stiles.”

A soft voice came from in front of him. A voice that he was sure he was imagining because Derek was leaving. He was going to a better place with people he deserved to be around and love. Not sitting here, trying to ease him out a panic attack because the guy that Stiles loved was going to leave and would never know how important he was to him.

“Stiles…come on open your eyes and look at me.”

There was that impossible voice again, that seeming voice of reason that Stiles couldn’t seem to let himself listen to. But then he felt it, a calloused hand resting on his wrist and a thumb brushing back and forth against the skin to try and bring him to reality just like he used to when he was having a nightmare. Immediately his eyes opened, and he found Derek crouched in front of him a soft sad smile on his face as he moved his hand from Stiles’ wrist to his cheek.

“De…Der….ek…” he gasped, unable to try and say his full name no matter how much he repeated the syllables.

“Shhh, yes it’s me. But you need to breathe for me OK?” Derek whispered, putting one of Stiles’ hands to his chest and guiding him in the breathing exercises they’d spent so long working out together.

Stiles’ gaze remained fixated on Derek the whole time he was easing his breathing back to normal. But those thoughts were still racing and his heart felt like it was breaking in his chest. The thought that Derek was going to leave him refusing to be eased.

“There, that’s good Stiles. Come on, let’s get you up on the bed and we’ll let your dad in,” Derek said softly, easing Stiles' arm around his neck and helping him stand.

Stiles collapsed on to the bed when they reached it. Derek went to open the door for his dad, leaving Stiles laying there half watching the two men as his exhausted mind shut down to try and recover.

When he woke it was a couple of hours later according the clock. There was no sign of his dad but Derek was sat in his desk chair on the phone with who he assumed was a rather pissed off Cora.

“Cora, I can’t leave, not right now. No! If the pack had done the decent thing and told him instead of freezing him out then I wouldn't be here. Look he’s awake now, I’ll be round later,” Derek sighed; hanging up and throwing his phone on the desk.

“I thought you’d have gone by now,” Stiles murmured hoarsely, pushing himself up so his head was leaning against the wall.

“I couldn’t really, not when I spoke to Scott. For a so called true alpha he really doesn't act like it,” Derek said, pushing himself out the chair and sitting beside Stiles on the bed.

“He was just trying to save me the fall out I guess. But he still should have said something…actually come to that so should you,” Stiles said, watching Derek’s gaze linger over his features as he took one of Stiles’ hands in his.

“I wanted to wait until I was sure you were stable emotionally before we left but Cora wanted us to go sooner. Her old pack apparently need her for something. Still I spoke to Marin and she didn’t think you’d take it too well, she thought it might push you into a relapse. Hence why I told Scott, I thought it would lessen the blow if it came from him,” Derek said, brushing his thumb over Stiles’ knuckles.

“I won’t be able to handle it if you aren't here,” Stiles said, watching Derek’s gaze move to their hands.

“You’ll have your dad, Melissa and the pack. You won’t be on your own but you need to open up a little more,” Derek said, the words sounding like something Marin had told him many times.

“But what if you’re the one that matters most. I know you believe in me Derek, I know you don’t see all the bad in me that everyone else does. If I don’t have that, I just don’t think I’ll handle it,” Stiles said.

“Stiles, you are an amazingly gifted and handsome guy. You’ll have the world at your feet when you get to whatever college you choose and people will be falling over themselves to be with you. Don’t let this beat you. As I've said before the Nogitsune wasn’t your fault. If it hadn't been you it would have picked someone else and they wouldn't be handling the fall out anywhere near as good as you are,” Derek murmured.

“You call panic attacks, depression, nightmares and no good outlook as good? Derek, I'm a wreck.”

“But you haven’t done as some would have,” Derek said, guiding Stiles’ hand to his lips and pressing a kiss at the veins in his wrist. The touch in itself caused a jump in Stiles’ heart beat and Derek to smile against his pale skin knowingly.

“Only because of you,” Stiles whispered.

“I know and that’s why I have to leave. I can’t be your crutch forever Stiles, I can’t stay here after everything that’s happened to me and my family. If I had my way you’d be coming with us…but you’re still a kid. You need the chance to try…and be normal again,” Derek said though there was sadness in his voice as his thumb brushed Stiles’ veins.

“What is normal?” Stiles asked, though his voice cracked as Derek bit his lip.

“You’ll find your own definition of normal, just like you do everything else,” Derek whispered, brushing a kiss to his cheek.

Though as he was about to pull away his lips lingered over Stiles’ as though debating with himself whether to actually kiss him or not. But two whispered ‘Please Derek’ seemed to make the decision for him as he kissed Stiles deeply like he’d wanted to do from the first moment he’d seen him. With his buzz cut, his snark and his plaid. This Stiles was much different, changed by the darkness in the world and yet willing to keep on fighting even if it hurt him in the process. Stiles’ arms wrapped around Derek’s neck to deepen it, the kiss that he had been waiting and hoping for, yet he knew it was bitter sweet. Derek was still leaving him whether he wanted him to or not.

He deepened the kiss even more until Derek pulled away; his eyes lit up with the ethereal blue of his wolf and his fangs were peaking from the corner of his lips. All his control seemed to have been destroyed by the one kiss and yet when Derek looked at him and beta face was gone there was a smile. He didn’t regret it for a moment.

“I’ve really got to go. I promise I’ll email and skype you every few weeks to check in. Please try and keep safe,” Derek whispered, pecking another kiss to his lips before he slid from the bed to grab his jacket and phone.

“You too Derek,” Stiles whispered, watching him pause by the window with a smile before he slid out like he’d done every night since he’d known him. But it left Stiles huddled under his duvet wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now.

Needless to say he was surprised when he went down for dinner later that day to see Derek sitting at the kitchen table with his dad, beers in both their hands. Stiles frowned as he met Derek’s gaze though Derek merely smiled as the Sheriff went to tend to dinner.

“I thought you’d be on your way to Argentina by now,” Stiles asked, fidgeting with his hair uneasily.

“Well I was, but I wouldn’t stop talking about you which pissed Cora off. I ended up going back to the loft to unpack my stuff and she asked Isaac to go with her instead. He got my ticket and a third degree about Cora on the way to the airport. But I am happy I stayed, I don’t think I would have been up to much while away from you for so long,” Derek said softly, brushing his fingers against Stiles’ cheek which made the teenager flush red.

“So what about us? If there is an us?” Stiles asked, clearing his throat.

“Oh there’s an us alright. We’ll just have to wait until you’re eighteen for it to get any further that’s all,” Derek whispered, pecking a kiss to Stiles' lips as he leaned into the touch.

“I can handle that,” Stiles said softly, as Derek took his hand which eased the unsettling thoughts and led him to the table as his dad began to serve up.

Fin.