Oh, run away with me, my dearest.
Shut up, Stiles.
Oh, but my love, it'll be an adventure.
Seriously, I'm working.
Run away with me and you won't have to.
I'll run away with you some other time.
Because you're 17 and because your dad's the sheriff AND my boss.
Derek grins at his phone before remembering he has work to do, and that Sheriff Stilinski already hates him without catching him slacking on the job. But, really, it's not Derek's fault he has the cutest boyfriend in the universe. Not that he's complaining. Derek turns his attention back to his computer screen, and continues to type up his report on the robbery from a few days ago. But really, he's thinking about the cute moles on Stiles' cheek, and how he'd love to trace the faint freckles on Stiles' back.
"I told you Star Wars is the best film franchise in history." Stiles exclaims, "Didn't I tell you!"
Stiles was already in Derek's apartment when he got home from work, and told Derek they would finish watching the Star Wars series. Which meant like six hours of watching the worst love story in history - and Allison once made them all sit and watch Twillight. Not that Derek minded his butt getting numb from sitting down too long, or his arm aching from Stiles laying on it. Anything to keep Stiles happy.
"They were alright." Derek shrugs, standing up and stretching.
Derek can't help but laugh at the glare Stiles sends him. He places his hands on the back of the couch, one either side of Stiles' head, and leans forward to give Stiles a quick kiss on the lips. Before he can pull away, Stiles is grabbing his collar and crushing their lips back together again, rough but caring in a way only Stiles could manage.
"Maybe," Stiles begins, pulling away from Derek, but keeping his hands on the back of Derek's neck. "Maybe I could just stay here tonight."
He bites his bottom lip, and searches Derek's eyes, his own wide. He looks so small and frail, and Derek can't help but wonder what he did to deserve Stiles, and wonders when he's going to mess it up. Because he will mess it up, he always does. Usually, it stems back to Kate, and everything she did to mess him up. But occasionally Derek manages to ruin everything all by himself.
"Stiles..." He whispers.
"I mean...It's just...I turn 18 next month, then we can be together properly! We don't have to do anything before then if you don't want, we can just sleep. I just...I don't know." Stiles explaines, pulling himself onto his knees - so he's eye level with Derek who straightens himself up - and smiles softly.
"I, uh, don't want to upset your dad. I should probably drive you home." Derek mumbles in reply, refusing to meet Stiles' questioning glare.
It wasn't like Derek didn't want Stiles to spend the night, an entire night spent cuddling and talking and laughing. It was the other stuff Derek didn't want. Ever since Kate he hadn't been interested in that. The idea of giving himself to someone in that way, and trusting them, makes his skin crawl. Even the idea of Stiles, who Derek trusted above everyone else, being the one to do that? It still makes Derek feel nausious.
"Don't bother." Stiles replies sharply, "I'll drive myself. See you around." Stiles pushes past Derek, grabs his backpack, and slides it onto his shoulders.
"Stiles..." Derek says, walking over to the door, which Stiles was just about to leave through. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...It's not...I don't..."
"Forget it." Stiles interrupts, pulling the door open viciously. "It doesn't even matter. Night Derek."
"Stiles, buddy, is that you." The Sheriff calls as Stiles walked thorugh the front door of their house.
"Yeah, it's me." Stiles sighs, throwing his keys down onto the table next to the door, and sliding his bag onto the floor next to it.
"Were you at Derek's house?" The Sheriff asks, his voice stern.
Stiles rolls his eyes. He gets why his dad doesn't like Derek, he's twenty one but looks thirty, and his family doesn't exactly have a crystal clean record. And maybe Derek got on the wrong side of the law a few times in High School, but he's a good guy. And he's on his way to becoming a deputy. And he makes Stiles happy. Well, he usually makes Stiles happy.
"Yeah, I was. What's your problem with him anyway?" Stiles replies, strolling into the kitchen and grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl.
"I just don't want him to take advantage of you." The Sheriff shrugs before continuing to read his newspaper.
"I really don't think you have to worry about that." Stiles mumbles, before turning on his heel and going to his bedroom. "Night dad." He adds, halfway up his stairs.
Stiles please answer your phone.
I'm sorry about last night, honestly I am.
Please talk to me!
After nearly three hours of trying to get into contact with Stiles, Derek decides to try a different approach. He knows it's stupid, and maybe even slightly unfair, but he searches through his contact list until he finds Scotts name. He takes a deep breath before selecting it.
"Hey, Derek. What's-"
"Have you seen Stiles?" Derek interrupts. Scott doesn't reply, so Derek presses on. "Scott please, I messed up."
"Stiles...He, uh, he...I'm not suposed to say anything." Scott stutters, worry edging into his voice.
"Scott, please." Derek begs, his voice soft.
"He's meeting with this guy." Scott admits, "He said he was sick of being the only virgin left in our year, and you weren't moving fast enough. I'm so sorry Derek."
Derek can hear his heart thumping in his ears, loud and fast, and thinks he may actually throw up. Stiles is so desperate to have...To loose his virginity that he'd go to some guy? Without even having the courtesy to tell Derek? Derek had to find out from Stiles' best friend? He can't breathe, he can only feel betreyal and heartbreak.
"Derek?" Scott says down the phone, his voice soft. "I'm really sorry. But it's not Stiles, honest. He's so drunk, and I tried to stop him I swear, but I couldn't. I'm so, so sorry. Please, just, remember that he really cares about you. This is all alcohol, I swear." Scott hangs up, and Derek feels numb.
Derek wakes abruptly to the sound of his phone ringing, a high shrill sound that makes his ears hurt, but means he can never ignore phone calls. He climbs groggily from his bed, tripping over his duvet as he stumbles out of his bedroom and into his living room.
He picks up his phone and croaks, "Hello.", into the speaker.
"Derek, it's the Sheriff. There's been a car accident." The person on the other end responds, their voice tight with worry.
"Who?" Derek asks, now alert enough to process what was happening.
The Sheriff takes a deep breath which makes a surge of dread flare through Derek's very core. "Stiles." The Sheriff replies, and Derek can hear the tears. "Dolburg Junction, between West and Green."
"I'm on my way." Derek promises, already hurrying to put on his uniform.
Derek probably breaks a few speed limits as he hurries to the scene, fearing the worst. He could hear the absolute fear in the Sheriff's voice, and he knows that isn't a good thing. He thinks back to what Scott said earlier that day about Stiles being drunk, and speeds up even more.
He arrives at the junction in record time, and there are members of the Sheriff Department everywhere, seemingly not knowing what to do with themselves. Three are even huddled together laughing. Anger surges through Derek, but he reminds himself to keep his cool. He cannot fly of the handle, not with Stiles' life on the line.
"Derek," The Sheriff calls, "Over here."
Derek rushes over, nearly tripping over his own feet, in a desperate attempt to find out what has been on his mind since he heard about the accident. Is Stiles alive and is Stiles safe?
"What happened, is he okay?" Derek asks frantically, worry evident in his voice.
"I don't know, they're taking him to the hopsital." The Sheriff explains, nodding over his shoulder at the ambulance Derek hadn't noticed before. "They don't know how bad it is yet, and won't until they've got him back to the hospital and looked at him properly."
Derek nods as the Sheriff speaks, taking in every word as fear consumes him. He looks around the scene, at the silver car he's never seen before, and the dents all over it. The roof caved in, two wheels popped. It looks like it's been rolled, and he looks at road around it which does nothing to deny his assumptions.
"You should go with him." Derek hears himself saying, not meeting the Sheriff's eyes. "I'll deal with this mess."
"Thank you." The Sheriff replies, "After you're done, you should go to the hospital too. He'll want to see you when he wakes up." Derek can hear in the Sheriff's voice that he doesn't want Derek to be there when Stiles wakes up.
Derek nods, finally looking up at the Sheriff, and watches as he walks away. He climbs into the back of the ambulance, immeditaely taking one of Stiles' pale hands. He looks back at Derek with a nod before one of the paramedics closes the doors, and the vehicle drives off.
Derek doesn't go to the hospital, he goes home instead and finds Scott and Lydia sat at his door. They both look anxious, and Lydia hasn't even got any make-up on. Her hair has been pulled into a loose knot on her head, and her eyes are wide. Scott is shaking, and his shoes don't match.
"Derek, what happened?" Lydia asks, standing up quickly when she sees him coming. "Scotts mom got called in to the hospital, something about Stiles."
"Car accident." Derek replies, "He's at the hospital now with his dad. The car rolled, he was trapped inside. Dunno who called it in."
"Why aren't you at the hospital?" Scott asks. Derek shrugs and begins to unlock his door.
"We should go to the hospital." Lydia says, tugging on Scotts sleeve before walking away, throwing a quick smile over her shoulder.
"You should go to." Scott whispers to Derek, "He wasn't thinking earlier, he didn't mean it."
With that, Scott follows Lydia back down the corridor to the elevator. Derek growls before pushing his door open. He slams it behind him, and throws his keys down violently on the end table by his door. He glares at his couch as he walks past it, memories of the evening before flooding back to him. Has it only been 24 hours since he and Stiles had watched Star Wars together? Had been happy together?
In his kitchen, he grabs a beer out of his fridge, and glares at the empty popcorn packet in his bin-another reminder of Stiles. He marches back into his living room, and throws himself backwards into his chair. Glaring at his couch and gulping down long swigs of beer, the alcohol burns his throat, but he feels he deserves it. This is all his fault.
"I'll leave you boys alone." The Sheriff says, leaving the room, Scott and Stiles with it.
"No Derek?" Stiles asks, his voice hoarse and skin pale - paler than Scott had ever seen him.
"I'm sorry Stiles, but I had to tell him." Scott explains, "He was going out of his mind worrying about you."
"No, I'm glad you told him." Stiles says, nodding his head a few centimeters, and grimacing. "Now he knows, and I don't have to tell him."
"He really loves you Stiles, I just think you two need to talk to each other more." Scott replies, reaching for Stiles' hand and squeezing it lightly. "I've never seen either of you happier than when you're with each other."
Derek, please talk to me.
I know I messed up, I just want to make things right.
Derek is sitting at his desk at work three days after the accident, staring at his phone screen. He hasn't even bothered opening Stiles' texts, can't bring himself to. It feels like Stiles - the only person in the entire world he trusted and cared about - has betrayed him. He can't just forgive that, no matter how much he wants to. No matter how much it killed him.
"Derek, can you go to the hospital and get Stiles' statement." The Sheriff says appearing from around a corner.
"I thought you did?" Derek asks, and he can feel himself begin to sweat at the prospect of having to face Stiles.
"No, no. I, uh, I was there as his dad not as the Sheriff. So I need you to go." The Sheriff explains, and he raises his eyebrows, so Derek knows not to argue anymore.
"Fine." Derek sighs, "I'll go."
Derek doesn't hurry to Stiles' room, on the contrary, he walks as slowly as he possibly can. He tells himself over and over he is there on offcial Sheriff Department business, all he wants to know is what happned that night, nothing more. He tells himse he could be in and out in half an hour, and then he could go back to moping and drinking and working out.
Suddenly, Derek's outside Stiles' room, and his heart feels like it's about to beat right out of his rib cage. Slowly, he opens the door. Behind it he finds a dimly lit room, bunches of flowers and 'get well soon' cards everywhere. In the centre is Stiles. He looks pale, there are dark rings around his eyes, and Derek's heart breaks a little.
Stiles is asleep, but he doesn't look peaceful. Derek takes off his hat and jacket, and places them on the floor by the door, which he closes cautiously behind him. He steps forward into the room, and sees a chair on the other side of the bed. He makes his way through the flowers and cards, and finally sits down on the chair. He leans forward, chin resting on his knuckles, elbows on the bed.
"I was really angry." Derek whispers, softly. "Because you mean everything to me, but you're willing to just sleep with some guy." Derek sighs, fighting back tears. "But now I've seen you. I still care, and I'm still mad. But I'll be mad at you when you get better. Until then, I'm not going anywhere, okay? I need your statement, and I'll get someone else to take it back to the office, because I'm not leaving your side, okay?"
Derek takes one of Stiles' small hands in his, and kisses each of Stiles' knuckles delecately in turn. Then he just holds it up to his mouth, and finally lets the tears fall, because who's there to judge him? All he can bring himself to think about was how much he needs Stiles to get better.
Stiles is out of hospital only two weeks later, and Derek worries it's too soon. Stiles goes home, and the Sheriff puts Derek in charge of the investigation into the accident. Most people in the department think that it's because Derek is his new favourite, but Derek knows it's so he doesn't spend much time with Stiles. The Sheriff makes it clear that now Stiles is out of hospital, he and Derek needed some separation.
"Tell me again what was in Stiles' statement." One of the officers asks. Everyone in the office is trying desperately to find out what happened, it is the Sheriff's son afterall.
"'I got really drunk, and spoke to Scott about going to meet this guy I'd met online. I got in his car, and he drove us to this parking lot. We started making out, but I started to chicken out about going all the way. He got really mad at me, and said he would drive me home. I think he'd been drinking, too. On the way back to my house, this deer came out onto the road, and the guy was too busy yelling at me to notice, and he had to swerve last minute. He ended up rolling the car, and I saw him hurrying out of the drivers side door before I passed out.' Yikes." Another of the officers replies.
Derek clenches his hands under the table so the others won't see his frustration. He remembers hearing Stiles saying that the first time, remembers how Stiles cried and told him how sorry he was. Remembers how Stiles said he regretted it so much, and wishes he could go back in time and make it never happen.
"Does he remember the name of the guy?" The first officer asks, taking the statement into his hands even though it had just been read out.
"No." Derek answers immediately, "He doesn't remember, and he doesn't think the guy gave his real name anyway. There's a sketch artist going to the Sheriff's house later today, hopefully that'll shed more light on the situation."
Derek reminds himself to breathe as he thinks how unfair it is that some guy can just go to see Stiles, spend hours talking to him. How he's allowed to see Stiles. But Derek isn't. Derek is being forced to stay away, give Stiles 'space'. Last time Derek gave Stiles space, Stiles got into a car accident. He doesn't like those odds.
"How long are we talking before we get the prints back from LA?" Derek asks.
"Anywhere between three and six weeks." The second officer answers, frowning.
"And the car?"
"Stolen." The first says, "From an old woman who lives on the outskirts of town. Dotty old bird left her keys in the car, and our guy made off with it."
Derek sighs. This whole investigation is a catastrophe. No name, no face, stolen car? They have to wait over a month for finger print results. They have nothing to go on, all they can do is sit and twiddle their thumbs until something turns up. Derek stands up abruptly and takes note of the officers' questioning glances.
"I'm going home. Call me if anything interesting happens." Derek grabs his coat and leaves.
Derek has only been home for half an hour when there is a knock at his door. He had changed out of his uniform the second he got home, choosing instead to wear his most comfortable jeans, and a tight fitting plain black t-shirt.
He checks through his peep hole to see who it is, and finds a slightly nervous looking Stiles staring about the corridor. Derek takes deep breaths, an anxiousness filling him, but a longing to just hold stiles again also makes its way into Derek's thoughts.
He opens the door cautiously, and Stiles immediately turns to look at him, something glinting in his eyes. Hope, maybe? Stiles smiles, but it's small and weak, and nothing like the ones Derek is used to. Nothing like the one Derek falls in love with every time he sees it.
"Does your dad know you're here?" Derek asks firmly. Stiles shakes his head, and looks down at his feet. "I don't want to get in trouble, Stiles."
"You won't, I told him I was with Scott. Scott's going to cover for me." Stiles explains, his voice quiet.
"I don't like lying to him." Derek states, crossing his arms and leaning against his doorframe in a bade to fake nonchalance.
"I just need to talk to you. Please." Stiles begs, looking up at Derek with wide eyes.
Derek sighs, knowing he's already lost. He can never deny Stiles what he wants. He steps aside, and Stiles hurries in, almost like he's afriad Derek will change his mind again and make him leave.
Derek closes his door behind him, and watches Stiles stand in the middle of the room, not quite sure what to do with himself. He's wearing sweats and a t-shirt with his red jacket, and they all bury him, making him look impossibly smaller. Derek has to remind himself not to rush over and envelope him in a hug.
"So," Derek starts, "What do you want."
Stiles turns to face him, and Derek can already see his eyes begining to well with tears. "I'm sorry Derek. I know you're mad, you have every right to be. But...I wasn't thinking I swear. I was drunk, I didn't really know what I was doing."
"You told me this at the hospital." Derek says, his voice tight.
Stiles looks down at his feet and starts to blush. Derek has to look away, because if he stares too long he knows he'll cave. He knows he'll forget all about the betreyal, and how much it hurt listening to Stiles tell him about the guy, and he'll let Stiles back in.
"Bef..." Stiles begins, but stops to take a deep breath in. "Before I left that night, you tried to tell me somehing, but I was really mad so I didn't listen. What were you going to say?"
Derek thinks back to that night, the last time he and Stiles had been together before the accident. Remembers Stiles storming out, and wouldn't let him explain why he didn't want Stiles to stay. He thinks back to what he wanted to say, and sighs.
"Sit down, Stiles." Derek says, gesturing towards the couch, sitting himself down in his armchair.
Stiles does as he's told and sits down on the edge of the couch. Derek thinks about how Stiles was never that shy before, how he'd let himself in and out of the apartment and make himself at home. He shakes these thoughts from his head and tells himself to focus.
"Before I met you, I'd only had two serious relationships." Derek explains, refusing to meet Stiles' gaze. "One of them was a guy called Issac, who had to move to France with his family. I was eight when I met him, and I was thirteen when he left. I was heart broken." Derek sighs before continuing them. "Another was a woman called Kate. I was fifteen, she was twenty-two."
Derek pictures her in his mind, all blonde hair and blood red lips. She had long nails painted pink which she would run through Derek's hair, which he loved. And which she used to scratch at him when he didn't do what he was told, which he hated. She had brilliant blue eyes, which he thought were beautiful at the time. Now he just remembers them as being cold, like the eyes of a dead woman.
"I felt special because she was a woman, and I was just a kid. I was fifteen, so I only really had one thing on my mind, and so did she. I didn't tell my family, obviously, becuase they'd have said it was innapropriate. And because she told me not to, and I did everything she told me to. We slept together immediately, and I soon realised that's all she wanted. Sex. I didn't care at first, but then I didn't really want to do it anymore." Derek pauses, he can hear his voice breaking as he speaks and he wills himself not to cry.
"I started telling her that I didn't want to have sex anymore, but she didn't like that. She got what she wanted when she wanted, and didn't like being told no. She started forcing me to do stuff if I didn't do it voluntarily. She would hit me, and scratch me, or just hold me down and do what she wanted." Derek has to stop to breathe again. He looks up to see Stiles' face, and sees the tears on the other's cheeks.
"That's why when I turned twenty, I moved here. I had to get away from her. And then I met you, and I thought maybe that was it, maybe I could pretend she never existed." Derek leans forward and looks Stiles right in the eye, "I really like you, Stiles, I swear. But...The idea of having sex, being totally at someone elses mercy? Even you-even the idea of it being you? It makes me feel sick. And I am so sorry, Stiles, I get that this isn't exactly what you signed up to." Suddenly, Derek's tone is authoritve. "But I don't think I'm ever going to want sex, and you do, so you might as well leave."
He stands up abruptly, and pulls open his door violently, and stands back to let Stiles walk through. Stiles stands up from his seat on the couch, and wipes the tears away from his face. He takes a shaky breath before walking through the open door. He turns back around, almost like he has something to say, but Derek just slams the door on him. Derek walks back over to his chair, sits down, and allows himself to sob. Gross, loud sobs with fat tears and a runny nose, and no intention of stopping. He always does mess up. Usually, it stems back to Kate, and everything she did to mess him up. But occasionally Derek manages to ruin everything all by himself.
They catch the guy. Someone called Theo, who doesn't live in town and has no past record. They arrest him two days after Derek and Stiles break up, and charge him with; theft, drunk driving, resisting arrest, damage to public property and fine him for Stiles' medical bills.
That night, which happens to be Stiles' birthday, the whole department go out for drinks. Derek chooses not to go, instead heading home to his apartment which seems much too lonely without Stiles' bright smile.
He grabs a beer from his fridge, turns on his TV and DVD player, and sits down on his couch. The opening credits of a Star Wars film starts to play, and Derek swears his heart shatters into a thousand tiny little pieces.
Stiles looks around the room, at all the people here to celebrate his birthday, to celebrate him. His dad, Scott, Lydia, Allison, Jackson, Kira, Malia. And others who he isn't sure why they're there, because he doesn't speak to them very often.
Someone brought a Milenium Falcon themed cake, and everyone else brought presents, and the whole evening seems perfect. Only, it doesn't feel perfect, far from it. Stiles doesn't know why, but he can't help but feel like there's something missing, or someone missing. He goes over to the kitchen and has another slice of cake, hoping to drown himself in sugar to help slavage the night.
The cake doesn't help, just makes him feel sick, and he doesn't know what else to do. He watches Scott and Allison from afar, how close they are, they way they're dancing in each others arms. Smiling. When they're together they're always smiling.
That's when it hits him. Derek. He's missing Derek. He thinks back to when he last saw Derek, only three days ago, but it feels like longer. The confessions Derek made. Kate. He thinks back to the look in Derek's eyes when he said that he'd never want sex, and so Stiles should just go. He thinks about his own broken heart, and decides what he has to do.
There's a knock at Derek's door, just as Obi-Wan and Anikin begin their epic battle. Derek pauses the film, and walks over to the door, wondering who on earth would be calling so late. He looks through the peep hole first to see who it is.
Stlies. His heart sinks. What does he want? Derek opens the door cautiously, reminding himself to breathe with every centimeter, and takes back a step once it's fully opened. Stiles grins, and barges past him into the living room.
"I have the Lord of The Rings, from start to finish, popcorn and soda. I'll set up the film if you cook the popcorn." Stiles says cheerily, a huge grin on his face.
"Stiles? What're you doing here? We broke up, remember?" Derel asks, frowning.
Stiles looks him dead in the eyes and says, "No, we didn't. You told me to leave, and I did. We never actually broke up."
Derek stares at Stiles incredilously. He has already begun the self-pitying that always follows a break up, resorting to alcohol and burying himself in his work, refusing to leave the safety of his apartment. They had broken up, Derek was sure of it.
Stiles sighs. "Derek, what you told me...That took a lot, I know. And I get that it was hard for you to say. And I also totally understand why you're anti-sex." Stiles moves forward so he's right in front of Derek, "I will gladly never have sex, ever, if it means I get you. Okay, Sourwolf? I would rather keep you. I love you, idiot, sex or no sex."
"That's easy to say now," Derek whispers in reply, "But in a few months, or years, you'll think differently. It'll kill you, I know it will, and I don't want to be the reason for that."
"Honestly Sourwolf, you're such a drama queen." Stiles laughs, "It's not like I can't take care of myself. Maybe we can ease you into things slowly, or maybe we can spend our saturday nights playing cludo and cuddling. I don't care. I want you, Derek. I love you."
Derek wastes no time in capturing Stiles' lips with his own, wrapping his arms around Stiles' waist, feeling Stiles wrap his own around Derek's neck. Derek can feel stiles sigh a little as he deepens the kiss, and it feels like coming home.
Oh, run away with me, my dearest.
Oh, but why?
I'm getting married today.
Who to, my dearest.
The most amazing, handsome, funny, kind, incredible person in the whole world.
Okay, maybe some other time then?
I love you.
I love you too, see you at the altar in ten.