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Memories Are Your Worst Enemy

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Peter threw his hand back unsheathing his claws. With a quick grin and a growl under his breath he moved closer. Derek knelt in front of him facing the doorway. He felt himself sweating with fear and worry. What was he expecting? This wasn't going to be easy. Peter gently tapped his claws on the back of Derek's neck as he held a tight firm grip onto his shoulder. He leaned in. 

"Are you ready?" 

Derek gulped. Taking a deep breath, he tried to say yes but the words seemed to escape him. He was terrified. Of course he was. Wouldn't you be? Breathing heavily, he nodded in response. Peter smirked secretively. He may be helping Derek but he had other plans for the information he was going to be getting. In a quick motion he buried his claws into the back of Derek's neck. Derek roared out in pain. Both Derek and Peter reared their heads back as they slipped into a trance. A memory trance.


Derek gasped into life as the grey world of his memories came into focus. He was damp. He wasn't sure why but after taking a quick glance around his question was answered. He was in the local school by the swimming pool dripping with chlorinated water. Taking a deep breath, he looked up. There he was in all his glory.


Derek felt himself speak but the words didn't come out. A very wet and out of breath teenager stood in front of him. His hair stuck to his face as it dripped down off his chin. He wasn't looking at Derek at first but then shaking his head and gulping down the lump in his throat he looked up. He looked sad. As if he had almost lost something precious. He was looking at Derek. Was Derek the thing he had almost lost? Derek took a deep breath. He felt his heart pounding as if he were realising something. Derek tried to reach out his hand. Wipe away the water from his face but as he moved the memory disappeared like ink in water.

Derek pulled back his arm and looked around him waiting for the next image to arrive. The next memory.

His feet slipped from under him as he fell into a seat. It was comfortable and warm. He was in a car. A Jeep. A blue Jeep that was slightly old and rusted but cared for and loved. Derek felt the warmth rush over him. It was a nice warmth that was just slightly uncomfortable. Or was that the atmosphere? The teenage boy appeared in front of him breathing heavily with a hint of a smile nipping at the corner of his lips. Derek felt the rush of his blood frantically running through his veins. His heart was pounding faster than he had ever known it to. He felt a desire deep within his chest. A desire to move closer. A desire to feel the boy's breath against his skin. A desire to kiss him. Derek took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He was desperate. He wanted to say something. Tell him something that was buried deep within his chest. No. His heart but he couldn't. Suddenly the image was wiped away like before but this time Derek felt an ache in his chest. He didn't want to move on. He wanted to stay. Stay there in the car with Stiles.

As a new image was getting ready to show itself Derek stood amongst the whiteness thinking.

Stiles? Was that his name? He didn't realise it but he knew that. He had said it before with such familiarity yet it wasn't until now that he realised he did not know that name. His name must be Stiles. That's all he thinks about. The boys face and that name. So it must be his name. Right?

The next image comes into focus but something is different. Derek can't open his eyes. He can't breathe. He can't move. His whole body is stiff and... wet. He is surrounded by water which explains the incapability to breath but how did he get here. Suddenly he feels a rush of water come towards him. He is barely floating. More like sinking to the bottom of the pit of water. Just as Derek thinks his life is about to end a hand, no two grab him by his shirt and frantically pull him close. In a rush and frantic movements Derek is dragged out of the water to the surface. Finally, he can open his eyes. Finally, he can breathe. He feels the close proximity of the body next to his. There is no water, no air, no nothing between then except the fabric of their shirts. Derek feels his heart pounding. It must be Stiles. He promised he would come back for me.


How did he know that?

The memory disappears amongst the chlorinated water of the pool. Derek opens his eyes and takes a deep breath as he feet touch ground and his body dries. It was all so overwhelming to be honest. How had he known it was Stiles? And why was he so sure he had promised to return? Return from where? Return to what? Derek shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. This was all becoming very strange... and uncomfortable. But he wanted to go on.

Suddenly a weight fell onto his back. He fell to his knees in agony. But not the normal type of agony. He had just lost someone precious. The weight that held him down was loss and guilt. He blamed himself. He was at fault for the death of his friends. This was all his fault.

The image came into focus. Yet again Derek was wet but this time it was rain and tears. He was knelt in a puddle of blood and water. His hands and body were shaking with fear, anger and sorrow. He didn't look up. He couldn't. He felt the sadness pull at his face attempting to drag him down into the depths of hell where he belonged. His breathing was hitched and faltering. He felt so alone. He had no-one left. It was him and only him in this room of despair.

This didn't make sense. He was supposed to be remembering Stiles. Why was he alone? What did this have to do with anything? How could he have forgotten this? Forgotten? He had never used that word before to describe these images. Were these really memories of things that had happened? He had always believed them to be dreams but maybe Derek was wrong. Maybe there was something much bigger hiding amongst his mind.

Slowly a hand cautiously reached out. With gentle reassurance the hand rested on Derek's shoulder. A sudden rush of relief washed over him. Derek knew now he wasn't alone. Stiles was there with him. As always Stiles was there. Derek knew now that he needed Stiles. He wanted Stiles. He loved...

The thought was washed away as the next memory came in. Derek felt himself cut off. He felt vulnerable and slashed open. The last memory had caught him and a weak moment. Had allowed him to think weird thoughts. He wasn't in love with Stiles. Was he?

He looked up to see a woman. He knew not to trust her. She was evil and was going to hurt somebody. She was going to hurt Stiles. Derek leant forward and peaked round the corner where he stood. There he was Stiles looking terrified. The woman stalked up towards Stiles readying herself to inflict a blow that would be so painful Stiles would never wake up from it. In the rush of the moment Derek growled as he stepped forward jarring his elbow into the woman's face. He knocked her out instantaneously. Derek kept his eyes on Stiles. Stiles' body relaxed as he sighed with relief. Derek felt a twinge in his chest. What would he have done if Stiles was hurt? 

As quickly as the thought came to his mind it was gone and so was the memory. Derek felt at a loss. He had gone through so much so far and all he could think about was the pain he felt from leaving Stiles. But he hadn't left had he? He didn't know Stiles. Stiles didn't exist. But even so he missed him. He missed him with all himself.

The next memory faded in. Stiles was pressed up against the wooden door of his bedroom. Derek had a tight grip on his jacket. Using his strength, he held Stiles up against the door giving him no means of escape. Stiles breathed heavily as he looked Derek directly in the eye. He didn't falter under his glare. He was scared but almost in a good way. Derek could feel his heart pounding under his fist. It made him lustful. With no control Derek leaned in closer tightening his grip on Stiles' jacket. Taking a deep breath, he sucked in the gorgeous smell of Stiles' body. He felt his eyes trail down to Stiles lips. He quickly looked back up trying not to make it obvious that this positioning turned him on. But he couldn't help it. His eyes trailed back down to Stiles' lips as Derek swallowed down on his urge to kiss. No. Ravish Stiles right there and then. He felt his grip loosen as did the memory.


Derek gasped back into reality. He still felt the churning emotions from the memories rushing through him and the itching pain of the claw scratches on his neck. Peter steadied himself, leaning against the arm of the chair breathing heavily. Derek was soaked with sweat. He knew now what was wrong. He knew now what he had to do.

"I have to find Stiles."

Derek whispered. Peter looked over at him and grinned. This is what he had been waiting for. This was what he needed in order for his plan to work.


"You saved their lives. Mason, Malia, half the population of Beacon Hills... That's gotta feel pretty good."

Stiles sat opposite his father in the Sheriff's office of the Beacon Hills police station. He stared out the office window nervously twiddling with his hands. He felt empty with a hole that couldn't be filled.

"Yer it did. For a while."

Stiles felt the itching pains of tears biting at the corner of his eyes begging to be freed. He gripped tightly at his hands as he tried to hard not to feel. Not to care. Not to cry. But it was hard when all you ever felt was pain and sorrow.

"What changed?"

Sheriff Stilinski leaned forward towards his son trying desperately to be the comforting father he wanted to be but Stiles was a tough cookie. He never wanted to share his feelings of ideals or anything. Stiles preferred to lock himself away and bury his pain. He hoped that this time was different. He hoped Stiles would let him help.

"Nothing. I just can't shake this feeling that something’s still not right, that something’s missing."

Stiles still didn't look at his father. He stared distantly out of the window of the office. He wasn't looking at anything in particular he was just staring. Hoping that that hole could be filled. With anything. He just wanted it to go away.

"Is it Derek?"

Stiles felt something pull at his heart. Slowly his look away from the window and looked up his father. Sheriff Stilinski was right. It was Derek. Stiles missed him. Missed him more than anything. But it didn't matter because he was gone. Derek was never coming back to Stiles and he knew that.

The hole in Stiles' chest grew bigger at the thought of Derek. Stiles felt so alone and the one person he needed to fix that could never be around.