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Coming home

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The fall should have killed him. Between the alpha fight and falling over the side of the broken floor onto the escalator...

Stiles wasn't sure he'd ever get the sight of Derek's body bent over that railing so unnaturally. It haunted his nightmares when he didn't dream about the nematon.

Then there was the whole thing when he went missing in Mexico. That was a rough time after they found the loft with shells everywhere and bullet holes in every wall. But they got through that.

And then Derek died. He came back to life, sure, but he died and was gone. Then he was gone for real and not even Braeden would say where he was when she returned.

Stiles didn't have nightmares about that but Derek was in his dreams a lot more.

He was happy, wherever he was, and that was enough to keep Stiles satisfied and to keep his itching fingers from tracking Derek down.

So when he walked through his bedroom door and saw a figure sprawled across his bed in the dark it was a total surprise. He somehow knew it was Derek without seeing his face. Who else could it have been, after all?

Stiles sat down on the side of his own bed and put his hand on Derek's shoulder, who woke up instantly.

"Long time," Stiles whispered, a small smile playing on his lips.

"It was time to come home," Derek replied, voice raspy with sleep. His arm curved around Stiles' hip, just holding him.

"I'm glad you did."