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I Want To Go Home

Chapter Text

Stiles woke with a start. His eyes hurt as he adjusted to the light of the bright room. There was a moment of what the fuck before his brain took notice of what was happening. He was in a clean, medical looking room. He was on a medical bed and he was tied up.

He was tied up.

Suddenly, Stiles tugged and pulled and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Let me out of here! What is wrong with you? Who are you? What the hell do you want?"

The door opened and someone in a lab coat walked up to him. His eyes widened as he recognized the doctor.


The man only smiled and nodded.

"Yes. Me. Your psychiatrist, Dr. Duke Lions."

Stiles glared at him.

"Do you think I'm stupid? It's all coming back to me. You killed her! You killed Cora?"

Deucalion, or Dr. Lions, looked at him with a sad smile and sad eyes. Sad grey blue eyes.

"How'd you get your sight back, huh? Pay off the Darach?"

Dr. Lions sighed.

"We had hoped your little role play would help you, Mr. Stilinski but it didn't. If anything, I fear that it just made your delusions worse. Deaton had hoped..."

"Deaton! You tried to kill him! Don't pretend you didn't. You tried to kill him and then you killed Boyd. It's all right here. Derek! Derek knows you have me. He knows you have me and he'll find me."

"Yes. He will find you. He is the evening orderly, after all. Stiles I don't understand why we can't make you see that all these delusions... these fantasies... they're just hurting you."

"Go away! If you're not going to kill me, just go away."

Dr. Lions raised his brows.

"Kill you? Dear boy, why would I want to kill you?"

"I don't know... because you are a homicidal maniac? Your mother didn't love you as a child? I don't know. Seems as good a reason as any."

"Okay, Stiles. I'll bite--"

"Oooh, good one."

"--you don't seem like you're in a violent mood so I'm going to let you out of solitary confinement on one condition."

Stiles was annoyed but if there was a chance of him getting out of his current situation, regardless of whatever game Deucalion was playing, Stiles was going to do it.


He forced a smile.

"I'll be a good boy and play nice with the other boys and girls. Happy?"

Dr. Lions nodded. He waved toward the window and the door opened. Stiles gasped.

"Boyd? Boyd? Is that you?"

Stiles couldn't believe it. He had seen Boyd die at the hands of well... Derek, by way of Kali. He had been there and stayed at Derek's side to comfort him. He had been hurting too. Whatever Boyd had said, they had been friends. At least in Stiles' eyes.

Boyd looked at Dr. Lions who shrugged.

"Yeah, Stiles. It's me."

"But you were dead. I saw it. I was there."

"Um, yeah. I'm good. Not dead."

Stiles didn't understand it. He had to be dreaming or sleeping or something. He allowed Boyd to undo the straps on the bed. When Boyd, dressed in the light blue scrubs of an orderly, helped him sit up, the room swam.

"Steady. Steady."

Stiles groaned. His head was suddenly pounding and he realized he was really thirsty. How long had he been in here.

"Two days," Dr. Lions supplied, as if guessing his question. "You ate and drank very little so the fatigue is to be expected. If you think you can keep down a little food, I'll have Boyd run to the kitchens and bring you back a tray to your room. Special circumstance."

Stiles looked at Boyd in confusion.

"No food allowed in the rooms."

Stiles just stared and let Boyd help him to stand. His legs felt like jelly as he tried to take his first steps. His legs held out but he felt weak. It also didn't help that he had no idea what was going on.

Boyd helped him to his room with strict instructions from Dr. Lion to watch over him for the next few hours. As they left the room, Stiles let Boyd do most of the work as he took in the world around him.

It looked like a hospital. A psychiatric hospital with all the bars on the windows, the plexiglass, the keypads to all doors and different sections of the unit. He took in the main desk and the door that led out of the unit. He took note of the public area, the different classrooms, and the cafeteria. Finally they reached the bedroom wings. They had come to a V, with two wings extending downward. Boyd took him down the one to the right. Stiles had noticed that no one was around earlier but now he saw a few heads poking out of the rooms.

"Where is everyone?"

"Outside. Three o'clock every day unless a mandatory class or activity prohibits it, or unless you're on probation. It's not required so some people stay in."

Stiles jumped at the chance.

"I want to go out--"

"Stiles, you're on probation. I'm sorry, but you can't go outside."

Stiles did not like that answer but he let Boyd lead him to the second to last door on the left of the hall. They entered a bedroom that seemed smaller than some he'd caught a glimpse of but those all had two of everything, obviously to be shared. Stiles' room had just one of everything.

"I get my own room?"

"I'm not sure that's something to be proud of," Boyd said and snorted softly.

Stiles decided that this Boyd seemed like the real Boyd but that made no sense. There was no way he could be alive and even if he had been, he would not work for Deucalion.

Boyd helped him to his bed and Stiles sat.

"I'm going to go get you food. Do you want a Gatorade? I'll bring you water as well."

Stiles nodded. Boyd left and Stiles was left to his thoughts. That was not a good place to be. What if they were right? What if this was the real world and everything else... the werewolves... the alpha pack... the Darach... what if it was all a figment of his wild imagination?

Stiles stared at the door.


He shook his head slowly.

"No... no.... no, no, no. NO!"

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he reached up and clutched at his hair. He pulled and tugged at it, causing his scalp to scream in agony. It wasn't enough.

"No! It's real! I know it's real. This is all a dream! Deucalion has me and this is all a dream! Scott! Derek! Scott! Dad! Derek!"

He shook hard and started to rock back and forth, still tugging at his hair as his amber eyes grew wild and frenzied.


He stood up and went to his chair, throwing it across his room. He grabbed whatever he could get his hands on and threw them in every direction. He screamed hard and roared with fear and hysterics. He almost didn't register he was no longer moving until strong arms wrapped tight around him and held him close.

"Stiles. Stiles. Calm down. It's okay. I'm here."

That was Derek's voice. He tried to twist to find him.

"Derek? DEREK! Where are you? I can't see you! They have me, Derek! Please, help!" He was suddenly in another pair of arms and turned to face a man that was definitely Derek Hale. He was looking at Stiles with both concern and annoyance.

"Stiles. Stop flailing right now. I'm here. Look at me. Calm down."

Stiles felt dizzy and he was able to focus on the other for two seconds before the room began to swim and his world went dark.

Chapter Text

When Stiles woke, it was dark outside. A total flip from waking to bright lights nearly blinding him. He sat up and rubbed his head. He'd had the weirdest dream and those bright lights had only been a part. He closed his eyes to rub the sleep from them before opening them again, adjusting to the light.

This was not his room.

He could feel the panic rising in his chest and his world spinning once again.

"No. N-No. Stop it. Just stop it. This isn't real. THIS ISN'T REAL!"

"Stiles. Stop that. People are trying to sleep."

Stiles' eyes searched for that voice and he found it near the door. Eyes focused to the dark now, he could make out a figure sitting in a chair by the door. A quick glance around told him the staff must have straightened up his room after his episode.

"No! Derek... this isn't you. You aren't real. I-- I know the real, Derek. And you aren't him."

He did know the real Derek. He knew him well. They had become close since the time Scott had been bitten by Derek's uncle, Peter Hale. They'd had their ups and downs, but in the end, Stiles had proved a loyal asset to the team and Derek... well, Derek put up with him mostly. Until that last month he could remember. Deucalion had made Derek kill Boyd and when Derek wouldn't kill Cora, Deucalion killed her for him, making Derek watch.

"How? How can you work for that monster?!"

Derek sighed. It seemed as if this Derek must have gotten this question a lot.

"Dr. Lions is not a monster. Not a werewolf. Neither am I. And yes, Stiles. Before you ask, Cora is alive and well."

Stiles shook his head.

"I was there. We all were. He slashed her throat and made you watch. I don't see how you can't see--"


Such a simple word and yet there was so much force in that little word that Stiles stopped. Derek rose from the chair and moved to Stiles' bed. He looked down at him.

"Can I?"

Stiles nodded, drawing his legs to himself to allow Derek to sit.

"I had to pull a lot of weight and offer to stay and watch you in order to keep them from locking you up again. Whatever they think, that is not the answer. Neither is... never mind. Not important. What is important and what you need to understand, Stiles, is that this fantasy isn't helping you. Only hurting. And its hurting the ones that love you."

"I don't--"

Derek was leaning in closer and place a hand on his thigh.

"Including me," he whispered. Then he was leaning in and Stiles realized too late that he was about to kiss him. Stiles' eyes widened before he pushed Derek away.

"What the--"

Derek groaned in annoyance.

"You never remember, do you? What is going on in your head to make you think its so bad out here?"

"You just kissed me!"

Derek rolled his eyes.

"I tried to kiss you and Stiles its not the first time we've kissed. We... I..." His eyes looked sad when they met Stiles' again.

"You really don't remember?"

Stiles shook his head rapidly, eyes still wide. Derek sighed again.

"Maybe its just as well. I could get in big trouble, getting involved with a patient. I promise I will not do it again."

Stiles just stared. The silence grew between them and it was the most awkward thing Stiles felt in a long time. Finally, Derek stood and headed for the chair.

"Go back to sleep, Stiles. Wake up's only two hours away."


When Stiles woke again, Derek was gone. In his chair was another orderly. One he recognized but couldn't place. He felt rested and calm and wondered if they'd given him something to take the edge off. As soon as he sat up, his stomach grumbled.

"Sounds like you need to eat."

Stiles looked over at the man and smiled sheepishly. He got out of bed and looked around for his shoes. He found them and frowned at the lack of laces before recalling where he was. Great. Slipping them on, he looked at the staff worker.

"We need to get your vitals and then get you to breakfast."

The man took off and Stiles followed after. His heart skipped when he saw Derek standing near the vitals machine, finishing up the last ones out of bed. Stiles joined the line and passed the time, watching Derek work. He was different from the Derek in his dream. Still rough and shy but happier it seemed. That was, until his eyes fell on Stiles. Those green eyes that Stiles had always found unreal and rarely got to see since Derek was always Alpha-ing out, they looked clouded when they looked upon Stiles.

"Hey, feeling better?"

Stiles didn't know what to say and only shrugged before taking a seat in the chair. He let Derek do his job, lifting an arm so he could put on the blood pressure cuff and opening his mouth for the temperature probe. He shivered at the cold of Derek's fingers as he double checked his pulse off the machine's numbers. When he was done, Derek nodded to his watcher. Stiles opened his mouth to say something but realized he had nothing to say and just shut his mouth. Following the other orderly, he was taken to the cafeteria, straight up to the line. The tables were full and suddenly Stiles felt very self conscious.

I'm not really here, he reminded himself. Don't worry about anyone. They aren't real. This isn't real. Any of it.

Stiles took the tray he was handed and thanked the serving lady before hurrying to the first seat he could find that wasn't near a lot of people. He devoured his breakfast--pancakes, eggs, and hash browns--and downed three cups of lemonade. When they called for seconds, he was the first in line. Due to his time in solitary confinement and the fact he hadn't eaten in two days, he was allowed thirds but only finished half.

Feeling lethargic after the meal, Stiles made his way back to his room. He got under the covers and sighed when his watch came to sit.

"You really should go to activities, Stiles," he said but dropped the matter after that. Stiles was thankful.

Rolling over, he looked out the window. He was thankful this window allowed him to see anything at all. The only problem was that the view was bittersweet. He could see it all he liked but he couldn't really feel it. A fresh wave of emotion settled over him and his stomach flopped. Suddenly he felt like he was going to lose his breakfast. He managed to keep it down but sobbed himself to sleep.

It was night once more before he woke again.

Chapter Text

It was a new orderly who sat with him that night. Stiles felt a twinge of disappointment that it wasn't Derek but pushed it away. Sitting up, he stretched achy muscles and made his way to the restroom. On his way, he glanced over at the new guy and gasped his recognition of the man.


The man looked up, a little startled. He'd been reading the book in his hand by the light of the phone and now searched through the darkness for Stiles. He must have been mentally kicking himself for not even noticing Stiles had gotten out of bed.

"Stiles! What are you doing out of bed?"

Stiles nodded toward the bathroom before realizing the other wouldn't be able to see. Werewolf night vision didn't exactly work in this dream, considering it didn't exist.

"Bathroom," was all he said before heading for the restroom once more. He did his business and flushed the toilet before pulling up his pants and heading for the sink. Washing his hands, he took a moment to stare into the mirror as he dried off his hands.

What if the real world was out there, through the mirror? What if he could see it through the glass if he forced himself? Maybe he needed to break it to get back home.

A wave of sadness and fear fell over him. What if everyone back home thought he was dead? His dad, Scott, Lydia, ... Derek. What if all of them were looking for him? What if they had given up?

"No!" He growled to himself, his fists curling on the marble countertop. "I won't believe that."

He wouldn't. He could not let himself give up. The moment he did was the moment he was a goner. He could get through this. He would get back to them.

He had to.


Stiles jumped at the sound of Isaac's voice.

"Uh, yeah, dude?"

"You okay in there?"

Stiles sighed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"You should get back to bed. You need to sleep."

Stiles snorted. As if he hadn't slept all day but Isaac didn't know that. Or maybe he did and just really wanted to get back to his book.

Or was worried about having to deal with a violent Stiles.

Probably the last, if Stiles was being honest with himself. He'd probably worry about the same thing, had he been in Isaac's place.

Opening the door--no need to unlock it with no lock on the door--he flipped off the light in the bathroom and stepped out into the semi darkness of the room. Isaac was back in his chair and his phone was off. Though Stiles couldn't make out his expression in the darkness, he could feel Isaac's wary gaze on him as he made his way back to the bed.

Sitting down, he sighed.

"You alright?"

Stiles blinked through the darkness at Isaac.


"I said, are you alright?"

Stiles snorted and the sound was bitter to his ears.

"I'm in a mental institution and people think I'm crazy. What do you think?"

Isaac made a little sound. It seemed either pitying or noncommittal. Maybe a little of both.

"Yeah, stupid question. But um. At this moment, do you feel okay?"

Stiles checked himself and decided that other than the frustration of everything, he felt fine. Not good. But not panicky or weak either.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

He didn't know how but he swore he felt Isaac smile through the darkness.

"Good. Get some more sleep, Stiles. I know you have been sleeping a lot but you really should get back on a proper sleeping schedule. It's healthier."

Stiles snorted but this time it was not as bitter.

"Like you, you mean?" He asked as he lay down and shifted under the covers, getting comfortable once more.

"This is my job, Stiles," the other male said, but Stiles heard the hint of humor in his voice.

Well, at least someone here had a sense of humor. That would make getting through this a whole lot easier.

Stiles sighed and rolled onto his back. Looking through the darkness, he focused on the ceiling as his thoughts turned to another. He brought a hand up and traced his lips as he remembered just a night ago, the Derek of this dream had kissed him.

What did that mean? Did he like Derek and his subconscious had manifested that in this dream world where Deucalion was keeping him?

The light of the phone returned. Stiles glance over. Isaac was reading again and must have thought he'd fallen asleep.


Suddenly, light burned his eyes and he closed them tightly.


"Sorry! I didn't know you were awake."

"It's fine. I won't be for long I just uh... was wondering where Derek was tonight? Since, you know, he's been the one that had to watch me the last few nights."

Isaac was silent for a moment before he sighed.

"He was off tonight. He'll be back tomorrow night. Now, you really should--"

Stiles outright laughed, shaking his head. "Go to sleep. Yeah. Thanks, Isaac."

"Yeah. Goodnight."


Stiles rolled over and went back to sleep easily.

Chapter Text

Stiles woke up in a happier mood. Maybe it was the prospect of seeing Derek later or maybe it was the medicine they gave him kicking in. Whatever it was, Stiles preferred it to the constant panic attacks and freak outs he had no doubt he would be having without it. He still didn't believe his life to be real. After everything that had happened, after everything he had seen, there was just no way. It was all too vivid, all to real. No one's brain, no matter how creative and amazing, could produce something like that.

He glanced over at the chair and grinned. Isaac was still there, reading. He looked tired. Really tired.

"You know... ever thought of changing your shift with someone on days, buddy?"

Isaac glanced up and snorted.

"Days are like unicorns here. They don't exist and the people that have them have been here a whole lot longer than I plan on staying."

Stiles snorted. He could get that. He honestly couldn't think of anyone who would actually want a job like this and he really couldn't think of anyone who would like it. Too much wear and tear on one's emotions and well being. If it was hard as a patient, it had to be harder as an orderly.

Sitting up, he watched Isaac close the book. The light was slipping in through the window and lit up the room softly. Isaac had probably put his phone up about an hour ago by the looks of it.

"They want me to tell you that they expect you in groups today," he said, but he wasn't very hopeful. Stiles couldn't help but grin. Isaac hadn't been here that long but he had quickly caught on to the fact that some people were stubborn when it came to group therapy. Stiles including, it seemed.

"Tell them I said okay," he said and stood. "How long till vitals?"

Isaac pulled out his phone. Consulting it, he put it up a second later.

"An hour."

Stiles gave a nod and stood. He grabbed a towel from his shelves and some clothes.

"I'm going to shower real quick," he said and made his way to the bathroom. He closed the door and placed the items on the sink. Sitting down on the toilet, he brought his hands up to rub at his face. He didn't want to do this. Play nice and pretend that he believed what everyone was saying was true. He needed to get back to reality. He needed to get back to his friends. Scott and Derek, especially.

He gave a start at the thought of Derek. He must have been harboring hard feelings for the older man because it was the only way to make sense of what was going on in this seriously fucked up dream. It was the only reason Derek would kiss him.

It was the only reason Stiles would want Derek to kiss him again.

His mouth went dry. Pushing the thought out of his head, he stood and reached for the faucet, turning it on and setting the temperature. He set the faucet to shower and pulled the curtain so the water would not escape. He undressed quickly and stepped in. The water felt amazing on his body, dream or not. And because this was a dream, he took advantage of it like he would not have back home. He needed this. After relaxing, he washed his hair and body with the bath items in his shower. They were his own, that much he could tell, and suspect his father or maybe Scott had brought them.

Shower done, he stepped out and dried off. He dressed quickly and brushed his teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste--again, his own--on his bathroom sink. All cleaned up and feeling calmer than he had in a very long time, Stiles left the bathroom, flicking the light off.

"Feel better," Isaac asked with a cheeky smile. Stiles blushed and suspected he might not have been as quiet in the shower as he thought. He forced a smile and nodded.

"Sure do," he said and watched as Isaac blushed. He still had it, even here. He put his dirty clothes on top of his dresser and slipped on his lace-less shoes before holding up the towel. "Where...?"

Isaac nodded at the door. "There are hampers in the main room by the desk for hospital linens. Towels and your bed stuff go there. If you ever want to change out your bedding, just take all of your current stuff, toss them in there, and ask for replacements. You are probably due for replacements, actually. Take that stuff with you and we'll go get you some new stuff before breakfast."

Stiles nodded and turned to his bed. He made quick work of stripping his bed and with Isaac's help, they left his room and headed for the main room. They put his old linen and the used towel in the bin and Stiles followed Isaac to a door that turned out to be a closet. The other passed him a fitted sheet, a sheet, a pillow case, and two blankets. Stiles had noticed it was often really cold here, especially in the rooms and especially at night. He also passed him four new towels. With the one he still had, that gave him five. He didn't ask for any washcloths because he had six in his room. More than enough and he didn't plan on staying in this dream for that long.

Isaac closed the closet and locked it up once more before turning back to Stiles.

"Go make up your bed and they'll call you for vitals over the intercom. I have to go do my paperwork and attend the shift change meeting. I'll see you tonight."

Stiles grinned and nodded. "Later, dude."

He watched Isaac head off, heading behind the counter and taking a seat at one of the desks. With a sigh, Stiles headed back to his room. He placed the items on the desk and began putting the towels on the shelf. Next he made up his bed. There was an empty paper bag on his dresser and so he put his dirty clothes in that. By the time he finished, a voice rang over the intercom.

It was Derek and Stiles' insides somersaulted.

He left his room and rushed as casually as he could. He was the second in line for vitals. Derek was busy with the first but when his eyes fell on him, the other smiled and Stiles could see the change. His eyes were always caring no matter who he was dealing with but when they fell on Stiles, that caring became personal. Stiles felt a smile tug on his mouth and he allowed it.

"Hi," he mouthed, but forced the smile to lessen. No matter what he felt, no matter what either of them were feeling, this was still a medical facility and Stiles didn't want Derek to lose his job. Derek seemed to realize the same and he just nodded.

The other patient left, heading for one of the chairs to watch the morning news that one of the other orderlies had put on. Stiles waited until Derek instructed him to take a seat. What he couldn't show on his face, Derek showed in his touch. More than once he brushed his fingers gently against Stiles' skin. Nothing anyone but Stiles would notice and that was because Stiles was looking for it. Stiles wondered how long he and this Derek had been cozy like this. A while, it seemed. Maybe even before he arrived at the hospital.

Vitals done, Stiles had no reason to stay seated there even though that was what he wanted to do. He rose and moved to the main room, taking a seat from everyone else. His mind was suddenly going through things that just didn't add up. He couldn't remember ever coming here and now all he could think of was what had brought him here and how he and Derek had gotten together in the first place. He glanced at the older male and licked his lips. He really, really wanted to kiss him again. That just wouldn't happen. Not unless the other was working nights instead of days and--

That was it.

Isaac needed to switch shifts with Derek. Isaac would be happy and Derek, well... Derek would be able to be alone with Stiles in his room. Maybe Derek used to work nights anyway. Deucalion had said he was the night orderly. Had he changed after the night Stiles had rejected him? He would need to find a time to talk to him. It would be hard but Stiles had gotten harder things to happen.

Decision made, he stood as they called for breakfast. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until they said something. Heading for the cafeteria, he made his way to the line and got his food. Taking a seat, he let himself think of a plan on how to let Derek know he wanted him to work nights again.