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Chapter Text

Derek Hale had become the managing partner of Hale and Sons law firm barely six months ago after his oldest sister decided she no longer wanted the job. Even after having worked there since she'd finished university. He didn't exactly want to work there either but as the only one in the Hale family who was old enough, smart enough and had a double degree in business and law, he was the one expected to do the job.

Today, he was on a familiar path on his way home back from the office at nine at night, pristine black suit only slightly ruffled from the day.

Stiles had run away to New York six months ago after his best friend was murdered and his father declared it an 'animal attack'. He couldn't bear to stay in a place he'd lived almost his whole life with Scott by his side, without him now. He also couldn't bring himself to look his dad in the eye.

Stiles had spent every dollar he had on getting to New York, it wasn't exactly close to Beacon Hills. Hence, why he chose it.

He had foolishly assumed it would be easy to get a job, he could waitress or work in a coffee shop, anything, he wasn't picky. Unfortunately, the only jobs he'd managed to land were casual ones where you were only employed for a couple of days at a time, enough for him to get enough money to pay for a nice meal and a night in a cheap hotel to shower.

On the days he couldn't find work, or sometimes weeks, he was forced to resort to something he knew his father wouldn't approve of; petty theft.

With his slim long fingers and lanky appearance, he'd become quite good at it, even better at lying when he had to pawn or sell the stolen goods.

The two hadn't crossed paths.

Until tonight.

It had been almost an entire month since Stiles had actually earned money in a legal and legitimate manner, three weeks since he'd slept in an actual bed, and, due to slowing down on the pick-pocketing and trying not to get arrested, two days since he'd eaten anything. Every day for the month before he had only eaten one meal a day, it was all he could afford.

It was fair to say that due to this fact, his thinking was a little impaired. Which is the only excuse as to why he would think it was a good idea to try to steal the watch off of the man with a crisp suit and murder brows wrist.

His vision spins for a moment when he gets up but he ignores it, with his bag on his back to protect his few belongings he finds himself making his way towards the businessman and making sure his right shoulder bumps into the mans' left.

"Shoot, so sorry man," Stiles says, left hand on the other man's shoulder while his right one slips the watch off and into his pocket.

It might have worked too if the impact hadn't been enough to rattle Stiles weak body.

He feels himself getting dizzy and clenches his eyes shut, not letting go of the frankly quite handsome man in front of him for fear of falling.

"Are you okay?" The other mans gravely voice comes, far less deep than stiles had expected.

"I don't feel too good," Stiles says just before his knees give out under his weight.

Thankfully Derek was there to catch him, they both hear the watch fall to the floor but neither pay it much mind. "We should get you to a hospital, what's your name?"

"No, no hospital," Stiles groans, the headache that he'd had all day amplifying. He couldn't go to the hospital, he knew they would have to call his father, it's not like he had his own insurance. "I'm fine, I just haven't eaten in a couple of days,"

The stranger's caleidoscope coloured eyes turn to worry, "What's your name," He repeats softly.

"Stiles, well its a nickname, if I told you my real name I'd have to kill you," Stiles aims for humour but by the look of the other man's deadpan expression, he'd missed it.

"Stiles, I'm Derek,"

Stiles was starting to feel a bit better, the moment of weakness had passed, for now, he looks down to his right where the watch had fallen to with a wince.

"Oh man, looks like your watch uh, fell off," He says nervously, it was the safer option than trying to run.

Derek's attention turns to where the shiny silver accessory was laying on the ground. Narrowed eyes then turn on Stiles. "You were trying to steal my watch," Derek accuses.

"And I would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for you meddling kids, and your dog too," Stiles mumbles to himself.

Derek sighs to himself. "Okay come on," he hauls the shorter man to the side of the road flagging down a cab.

"What, where are you taking me?" Fears were beginning to run through Stiles's head, what if he was going to take him to the police? or put those murder-brows to use and murder him? what if he was planning on wearing his face as a mask?

"I'm not going to wear your face as a mask," Derek says already regretting his decision. "You were muttering to yourself Stiles, I'm taking you back to mine, you're not okay enough to stay out here tonight,"

Before Stiles could properly protest, he finds himself being thrown into a taxi. Instead of complaining, he decided to take the niceness. While praying to God that he doesn't get Murdered.

He couldn't help but feel like he was in one of those stupid fics where the child of an alcoholic gets sold to one direction to help support said alcoholics alcoholism.

Stiles makes sure to take note of every turn they make and approximately how long they drive for, being too tired to read the signs.

He was the son of a sheriff after all.

They make it to a large and prestigious looking apartment complex and Stiles follows the man in. Not that he had much choice what with the and on his arm dragging him along."Derek, I'm ordering pizza, what do you want," A female voice calls out the second Derek opens the door.

"Oh pizza," Stiles exclaims, he can't help himself, he'd never had the opportunity to have New York pizza. Derek turns to him with a glare earning himself a cheeky smirk in response.

"Derek please do not tell me you kidnapped a hobo," The female voice says from the door, now attached to a very attractive female body.

"I resent that term, I prefer 'man of the streets,'" Stiles says using his hands to accentuate the term. The woman raises her eyebrow and Stiles turns to Derek to find him mimicking that expression. "Wow you two have been together for way too long if you're making the same exact face," Stiles then says exasperated and never quite knowing when to shut up.

"Yes well, twenty-three years will do that to two people," The woman says confusing Stiles, even more, they do not look old enough to have been together for twenty-three years.

"Stiles, this is my sister, Laura, Laura, Stiles," Derek says in the least informative introduction ever.

"Sister huh, makes sense, you both are equally hot," Stiles says, brain to mouth filter having been eliminated by fatigue.

Not that he ever actually had a brain to mouth filter.

That was something Scott often laughed about, he always thought Stiles's comments were hilarious. Laura laughs at him, making his heart pang a little.

"Come on, let's get you something to drink, Derek can order Pizza," Laura says Dragging Stiles away from Derek and to what Stiles assumed was the kitchen.

"I'm used to Derek picking up strays and bringing them home, usually cats or dogs, he's never brought an actual human home," Laura says moving gracefully around the kitchen and setting a glass of cold water in front of him. "Are you sure he didn't kidnap you?"

Stiles smiles, sipping at the water and having to restrain himself from chugging the whole cup. "He couldn't if he tried, I have better Kung fu than Jackie Chan," If he had had more energy, he would have demonstrated the fact. Laura laughs at him again. It had been a while since someone had actually honestly laughed at his jokes, a little over six months. He didn't think he'd be able to make any jokes if he was still in Beacon Hills, not without Scott there to laugh at them.

The pizza comes, Stiles stuffs two pieces in his mouth before feeling like he was going to throw up, his body obviously not used to that much greasy food. He also meets some of the other strays Derek had picked up, a fat white cat named Aziraphale and a slim black cat named Crowley. The two took an instant liking to Stiles, unlike Merlin, a smaller black cat who seemed intent on eating Stiles's toes.

"Alright Stiles needs a shower, and a shave, Derek get him some of your clothes," Laura orders as if Derek wouldn't have thought of that himself, as she physically drags Stiles to the nearest bathroom.

Honestly, Stiles was starting to wonder if he would wake up the next morning in an ice bath with his kidneys missing. As if anyone was this nice. He wasn't sure he cared anymore though, the pizza placating him and promise of warm water and good water pressure making him compliant.

He uses the 'forest' two in one shampoo and conditioner and the lemon-scented body wash and takes advantage of the warm water for a solid half-hour, singing as he scrubs his skin pink.

He comes out to find razors and shaving cream on the sink and clothes on the lid of the toilet. Obviously someone had come in while he was showering and privately, he hoped it hadn't been Derek.

He shaves the months old beard off, exposing his delicate skin and youthful face. Putting the soft track pants and t-shirt he'd been left, he looks at himself. It's probably the first time he'd looked presentable since the funeral.

He walks into the living room where he can hear soft talking and with a flourish exclaims "Tada," with jazz hands, he gives them a twirl having to pull up the pants once again as they slip from his slim hips.

Both Hales mouths drop, "I'm looking good eh?" Stiles says wriggling his eyebrows.

"Oh my god you're a child, Derek you kidnapped a hobo child," Laura exclaims.

"What! I'm not a child -well I mean technically- I'm seventeen!" Stiles exclaims in a tone similar to Lauras.

"Seventeen? Derek he isn't even allowed to drink yet," Laura shouts, Stiles notices a twinkle in her eye giving away her amusement as Derek rolls his eyes at his sisters' antics.

"What how old are you guys?" Stiles asks with a mix of curiosity and a need to know everything about the people he has made himself vulnerable to.

"Thirty-two-"

"Woah, you're like, old enough to be my mother," Stiles cuts Laura off flopping down on the couch next to Derek after spotting his amused smile.

"What no I'm not!" Laura screeches, "Derek, come on man, back me up," She wines to her brother who was now being used as a terrible shield by a snickering Stiles.

"You know, you are starting to sound and look like mum," Derek jokes, sarcasm only noticeable by the slight uptick of the corner of his lips as he says the words in an even tone.

Laura gasps, clutching her heart as if she'd been shot, "Oh brother o-mine, you wound me," she says punching her brother in the shoulder hard enough to elicit an 'ow'.

Soon enough Stiles was watching the two bickering between yawns head eventually falling to rest on Derek's shoulder startling the both of them into silence. "No, no keep going, it's entertaining," Stiles says, eyes not even opening and his sentence interrupted by a yawn.

"I think it's past your bedtime," Laura chuckles softly, "The spare room is made up for you already, come on,"

"Whatever you say, mum," Stiles jokes. "Spare room? how many rooms does this place have? it's a bloody apartment!" He says after a moment.

Stiles is asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, missing the perfect opportunity to tease Laura about her mum-likeness as the pulls the cover-up to his chin and tucks him in.

It's okay though because Derek's eyebrows do all the teasing needed.

Chapter Text

Stiles wakes up looking up at a crisp white roof and for a second, just a second, he thinks that the past six months have been a dream and that the sound of the coffee maker he could hear was his dad downstairs making coffee before leaving for work and that he would get up and go to school and see Scott.

It doesn't last long, and once the second is up, he finds himself blinking back tears.

For the first time in a while, he openly admits to himself that not only did he miss Scott, he missed his dad.

He finally shakes himself off and makes his way to the kitchen, following the scent of coffee to find the two Hales, both dressed in business attire, the younger of the two sitting at the table reading an honest to god newspaper.

Laura on the other hand, like any respectable twenty-first-century human being, was fiddling on her phone while drinking her coffee.

"Morning," Stiles says shyly. He wasn't normally one to be shy, that's how he and Scott had become friends. Basically, Scott was too shy to befriend anyone else, but he was here, in two strangers house after trying to steal one of their watches. They were probably going to tell him to get out now that he'd had a meal.

Everyones nice-ness has to run out at some point.

"Morning Stiles," Laura says, "Would you mind if, well," She rubs the back of her neck and looks at him with a twitchy smile, "Could I see your arms?"

Stiles instinctively crosses them, hiding some of the bare white skin. "Why?" He asks eyes narrowed. For all he knew, they were going to inspect them to see if they were worthy enough to be sold on the black market.

"She wants to check your arms to see if you do drugs," Stiles's eyes bulge at Derek's comment.

"What! I don't do drugs, why would you even think that! look!" He thrusts the pale, mole splattered appendages into Laura's face, he would have hit her if she hadn't moved back.

"He's clean," Laura says looking at his markless arms.

"I still don't think we should leave him here alone," Derek says. eyes still not leaving his newspaper.

"Derek, if he was going to steal something, he could have done it last night and made off with it before we even woke up. Plus it's not like you can take him to work with you,"

"Why not, I'm the boss now, I can do what I want."

"Guys it's fine," Stiles interrupts, "I'm just gonna go, I might have a chance at getting a temp job again now that I look less like a hobo,"

"What, no," The two say at the same time.

"Stiles, no," Laura goes on, "You're staying here until you get a little more meat on your bones and don't look like a harsh wind will blow you over,"

"What, you can't hold me, hostage," Stiles says defensively now.

"Doors over there," Derek says causing Stiles to huff and move to the living room where he'd left his bag.

"Wait, Stiles, come on, we're offering you a bed and free food," Laura calls following after him, not without a frustrated "look what you've done now," to Derek.

"You don't even trust me alone in your house, I don't need your pity," Stiles says, picking up his bag.

"I do so! Derek doesn't trust anyone," Laura replies.

"He's the one who brought me here!" Stiles says, confusion tinting his louder voice.

"Yes well, I don't understand what goes through his head either!" Laura shouts back. "Look, Stiles, please? just stay a couple more days?"

Stiles looks at her, at the way she's holding herself, shoulders tense, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide. The puppy dog eyes she gives him could only have been beaten by Scotts.

He looks away from her face to the floor.

"Okay fine," he looks back up at her, her shoulders now relaxed in relief. "Thank you,"

"Oh no, you said you didn't want pity, so you can uh," She looks around for something he could do as payment.

"Kitty litter," Derek shouts from where he was still seated at the kitchen bench pretending to be interested in whatever article he was reading about.

"Perfect, you can change the kitty litter," Laura tells him with a smile that says she really isn't kidding. "You're welcome to the contents of the fridge and pantry and all that, there's a DVD player and a bunch of movies in that cabinet, I'll be home at five, six at the latest, Derek will probably be home later than me," Laura says walking back to the kitchen, grabbing a hair tie and pulling her long curly hair into a tight bun that reminds Stiles of a doughnut.

She slips on her shoes and Derek sighs getting up and grabbing both their briefcases. "And Stiles, please don't steal anything?" Laura says before Derek physically pushes her out the door.

Stiles has to admit, he had been contemplating it, even going into the rooms to find Lauras and carefully rifling through her jewellery. And there was a lot to rifle through, most of it looked real and expensive, he could make enough to stay at a hotel and eat two meals a day for an entire week.

He used to measure cost by how much petrol he could fill his car with, or the cost of repairs, now he measures it by food and measly shelter.

In the end, he heads to the kitchen, digging through the fridge and freezer he finds a bunch of vegetables that look like they are about to go off and some still frozen mincemeat. He thinks about how back home, he would cook dinners for his dad and take leftovers to Scott and to the hospital for Scott's mum. Stiles loved to cook, it was something he learnt to do with his own mother and never stopped loving.

And so, Stiles decided to cook his new friends a meal in thanks for letting him stay as well as to show his worth and why they should keep him around. He digs through the draws and cupboards, leaving the doors open so he can see what's in each and pulls out everything he needs. He's glad to find that everything he needs actually exists in the kitchen, neither Laura nor Derek looked like the type to cook much.

He started to chop up the vegetables and pulled the meat out to defrost. He finds himself swinging around the kitchen singing along to whatever tune pops into his head.

That's where he is several hours later when the door opens.

Stiles eyes go to the clock on the wall next to the fridge to find that it's only midday, four hours after Laura and Derek left. He hears the clacking of heels against the wooden floors.

"Laura, you're back early," He calls not turning from the mixture of meat, vegetables, tomato paste and herbs he is layering in a large tray between lasagna sheets.

He hears a bag hit the floor and looks up.

"You're not laura," He says, even if it does take him a moment to realise. The only noticeable difference being the smile lines, shorter hair and slightly heavier set of the woman in front of him. For fear of the woman kicking him out or something, he turns on his charm, "You must be her twin sister," he says with a smile.

Unfortunately for him, no matter how he smiles, anyone who sees it would describe it as 'cheeky'.

The woman's eyes narrow at him. "Who are you," She asks, tone firm and with no inflection to the question. He could see where Derek's speech patterns came from now.

"Stiles," He squeaks, the woman intimidating glare and powerful presence getting to him. She looks him up and down but he refuses to cower. She's using very similar intimidation techniques to the ones his dad used on him and Scott that time they broke a window and blamed it on a freak hailstorm.

It was the middle of summer, they were eight, it hadn't even rained in over a week. Melissa was leaning on the counter trying to smother a smile which really lessened the impact of the sheriffs' glare.

"Well, Stiles, care to explain to me what you're doing in my children's home? and why you're," she pauses, as if for dramatic effect, "cooking," the judgment drips off the word. Stiles looks down at the tray, he knew it didn't look like much but it would definitely taste delicious.

"Not really?" He says but with one look from the woman, Derek and Laura's mother, he gulps, "Derek let me crash here, I'm cooking dinner as a thank you,"

Mrs Hale, who was known as Talia to her friends, eyed the boy suspiciously, she hadn't met many of her sons... friends, the ones she had, had often been trouble, either using him for his body, his status or his money. This man, or boy rather, looked, well he looked kind, he had a mischievous aura to him that gave the sense of trouble but not the kind that Tahlia had grown accustomed to in her sons and even some of her daughters' friends.

"What are you cooking?" She asks finally, picking up the groceries Stiles had startled out of her hands.

Stiles smiles as if he'd won her approval, he hadn't not quite yet, but he works towards it, especially when he moves to help her with the food she'd brought.

"Lasagna, you wouldn't happen to have brought any cheese, would you? It seems Derek and laura are all out, I was considering going door knocking and asking some of the neighbours, you know, like asking for a cup of sugar but instead id be asking for like, several cups of cheese," The young man says moving to unpack and put away the food, mouth going so fast that Talia Struggles to keep up.

"Of course they would be out of cheese, doesn't matter how many vegetables I bring them, they still live off of omelettes and take out, it's like they are children," Mrs Hale huffs.

"Well, Mrs Hale-"

"-Talia, please,"

"Well Talia, I probably shouldn't tell you what we ate last night then," Stiles says with a smirk as he pulls the cheese and dumps a load of it on the top. Talia can't help but chuckle.

"Well, now what?" Talia asks once they'd finished off making the lasagna and putting away the fresh groceries. It was only half-past twelve and far too early to put the lasagna in the oven.

"Now we do whatever we want until four o'clock when I'll put this bad boy in the oven so that it'll be ready for you and Laura when she gets home at five, you are staying for dinner right?" Talia found herself unable to say no to the hopeful child-like glint in the boys' eyes that seemed to beg her to agree.

"Well, of course, I have to see how this lasagna turns out, I've never seen one stuffed so full of vegetables," The bright smile she's rewarded somehow completely makes up for the fact she'll have to cancel her dinner plans with an old work friend.

It takes her an entire hour later, when the two of them are sitting on the couch watching reruns of the golden girls with three cats cuddled up to them (the smallest being held by Talia to protect Stiles's toes), to realise that she seems to have somehow adopted this child effortlessly into her family.

As Stiles makes a comment about how much he relates to Rose with her hilarious but rarely relevant long stories, she begins to think of how she could shuffle the chairs at their dining table at home in order to accommodate one more this Christmas.

She also decides then and there to never get up or ignore the boy if he does ever decide to go on a Rose Nylund-like spiel. Somehow, she can tell that he hasn't had someone willing to sit and listen in a while.

Chapter Text

Laura was not expecting to open her door to be greeted by the smell of food. She wasn't sure what she expected, for Stiles to be gone, for Stiles to be waiting for them to get back, certainly not for Stiles to have cooked something that smelled so good it was making her mouth water.

She could hear the sound of the TV and laughter coming from the living room and so, instead of following the smell of food like she so wanted, she made her way there. She also wasn't expecting to see her mother sitting on the couch laughing along to something Stiles had said.

"Mum!" Laura exclaims in shock, in turn shocking the two human occupants of the soft black sofa.

"Laura, dear, thank god you're home, I'm dying to try the lasagna Stiles made and he said we had to wait until at least one of the Hale children got home. I was beginning to contemplate calling Cora here," Her mother says with a gleeful smile. One she wasn't entirely used to as her mother had been very disappointed in her for giving up her spot at the firm.

Stiles smiles shyly at the carbon copy of the woman next to him and gets up to follow along to the dining table where he plates everyone a large piece of the steaming food and sets out a bowl of salad.

Laura moans as she takes her first bite, eyes going wide as they meet her mothers' whos show a similar expression of pure bliss. She swallows the food and turns to Stiles, "Dude we are so keeping you,"

Stiles huffs, "I'm not a pet," but the smile gracing his lips gives away his joy.

When Derek comes home and takes his first bite, his mum and sister watching his reaction intently, his face is so much like theirs had been that Stiles actually chuckles."We're totally keeping him right?" Laura asks her brother.

"Weren't we before?" Derek responds through a mouth full of food. Neither of the women flanking him admit to the fact that they had indeed also already decided to hold on to the young man for as long as he was willing to stay.

Stiles's heart swells having somehow found himself a place in the world once more. It wasn't the same, wasn't as good, Scott wasn't there, he knew he would love laura, would probably butt heads with Derek constantly but would love him too. His dad and Melissa weren't there, they would get along splendidly with Mrs Hale though, probably bond over the ridiculous things their children did when they were younger.

If the other three noticed Stiles's sing to a more melancholy mood, which they did, they weren't blind, they chose not to comment on it.

Things went on in a similar fashion, Laura and Derek leaving for work in the mornings, now armed with Tupperware containers of whatever dinner the previous night was, making all of their colleagues super jealous. Stiles stayed home, he cooked, cleaned, looked after the cats, watered the very few houseplants, basically acted like a fifties housewife.

A few days later, Derek came home with a relatively new iPhone for him to use 'in case of emergencies' equipt with unlimited text and calls as well as more gigs of data than Stiles would ever need.

This, of course, meant that Stiles could add an activity to his day, harass Derek and Laura while they're at work. His texts mostly consisted of pictures of Aziraphale and Crowley being adorable, him sitting on a kitchen stool with Merlin staring menacingly at his feet and questions about the legal system often sparked by Judge Judy. Laura usually left those text messages on 'read' whereas Derek would answer any of his questions, always encouraging more.

Stiles can't help but think to himself that Derek would have made a wonderful teacher.

On Fridays, he sets a date with Mrs Hale, she comes to the apartment at eleven o'clock sharp, they go shopping for groceries, they come back, cook dinner together and watch reruns of the golden girls.

It reminds him a lot of what he had done with his mother. The second Friday he tells her this and she smiles and asks, "Where's your mother now?" In a bid to get stiles to open up about why he was alone, up until this point, the topic had been studiously avoided. Stiles just smiles at Talia and tells her "She passed away when I was nine, it was just me and my dad after that."

Talia doesn't push it after that, instead, filing the information away for later evaluation.

It's not until he's been living with the Hales for two weeks that he hears Derek have his first nightmare. At first, he thinks it's him having a nightmare, so used to being woken up by loud screaming only to realise it's his own. 

He takes a moment, wondering if he should go wake Derek up knowing Laura was in Washington DC for the night. Eventually, before his mind has even really caught up with itself, he finds himself walking down the hall, a blanket draped around his shoulders like a cape.

"Derek?" He calls opening the door and squinting as if that would help him see through the darkness. He watches for a second as Derek tosses and turns only partially under the covers as the moonlight reflects off his sweat covered chest.

"Derek," He says again, this time more firmly as he approaches the bed. He carefully rests a hand on his shoulder but the second his warm skin makes contact with Derek's cold shoulder, Derek is sitting up, eyes wide and alert.

"Stiles?" Derek asks, confusion tainting his sleep-deepened voice.

"You were having a nightmare," Stiles whispers, shuffling his weight from foot to foot awkwardly.

Derek's hands go up to cover his face as he sighs. "yeah," he whispers.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asks carefully. Derek is silent for a moment before whispering again "yeah," but both the hesitation and the way his voice cracks tell Stiles otherwise.

"Do you want me to leave?" Stiles asks hesitantly.

Derek looks up at him, eyes wide as if that is the last thing he wants but is unwilling to admit it.

"You know, its pretty cold in the hallway," Stiles says, coming up with an excuse to stay so that Derek doesn't have to ask him to, "Do you mind if I stay here a while, at least until I can feel my toes again?"

Derek doesn't say a word but shuffles towards the other side of the bed and pulls back the sheets for Stiles to slip in next to him. Stiles does so quickly, dropping his blanket to the floor and laying on his side so that he's facing Derek who's on his side.

"Do you want to talk about it," Stiles's voice is quiet and soft, something in Derek makes him compare it to honey, it's soothing and he doesn't want it to stop.

"No," he whispers back, but it's not defensive or combative like Stiles had expected, instead, he sounds dejected.

"I have them too you know, I used to a lot more, almost every night," Stiles whispers, Derek looks at him torn between wanting him to continue and wanting him to stop for fear of trudging up old painful memories. "My dad's a sheriff and he'd work a lot," Stiles continues. "I used to have nightmares where he would get shot or kidnapped or somehow some bad guy would do something that would inevitably lead my dads slow, painful death, and somehow, it would all be my fault,"

"And my best friend Scott, after he died, well, it was kind of my fault, I'd heard on my police scanner that half a human body was found in the woods and well, I wanted to look for the other half, so I dragged Scott out there in the middle of the night, and we got split up," Derek's hand comes to rest on top of Stiles's in the space between them. "He didn't come to school the next day so afterwards I went out to try to find him, I did, my dad ruled it an animal attack,"

"I'm sorry," Derek says softly. Stiles gives him a soft smile but doesn't say anything else.

"Tell me about him, what was he like?"

Derek falls asleep to the sound of Stiles's voice as he tells him about all the ridiculous things the two boys had gotten up to and when he wakes up hours later, it's to Stiles, still mumbling in his sleep, something about cryptic vets and unicorns and Derek can't help but smile.

Derek watches as the warm morning light bathes the younger boy making the dark moles that are splattered all over his body stand out stark against his white creamy skin. He can't help but notice the little puddle of drool forming on his pillow.

He notices the way the old top Derek had given him to sleep in no longer hangs off him the way it did weeks earlier, how he'd filled out enough for it to almost fit him properly now, how while he was still extremely thin and lean, he no longer looked like the next hint of wind would make him topple over.

Derek's eyes settle once more on his face, the dark lashes that fan out across the top of his cheek, the way his nose is scrunched up, how soft his pink lips look.

For someone who is only five years younger than Derek, he often seems both so much older and so much younger. Like someone who had to grow up early and who's default status seems to be 'adult' but who takes advantage of situations where he can act younger and appreciate things he never got the chance to.

It makes Derek want to both take care of him, and be taken care of by him. Which is an odd thought to have about someone who you've hardly known two weeks.

When Stiles has a nightmare two nights later and Derek comes in to comfort him, sleeping in the same bed becomes ritual. It becomes just as common as Stiles spending his Fridays with Talia.

Laura doesn't do much more than raise her eyebrows at the two of them but privately, she thinks they would be absolutely perfect for each other. It also makes her a bit sad, the idea that her little brother may not need her anymore and she wonders if this is how her mother felt when she told her she was moving out. That pang of both sadness and pride.

Chapter Text

It was a Saturday, more than two months after Stiles had moved into the apartment. Derek was sitting on the couch reading a book while Laura was out with friends for coffee.

Stiles was jumping from one piece of furniture to the next like a child playing 'the floor is lava'. All because one dumb cat seems intent on eating his toes.

He had woken up two days ago at three in the morning because the annoying little bugger was chewing on his toes from where his foot was hanging off the side of the bed.

Stiles had had enough.

Back in Beacon Hills, Stiles was kind of known for his intelligence, that and his innovation. It was how he and Scott got away with so much. It's also what landed them in a lot of trouble.

But today, Stiles was using his brain for self-protection, instead of its usual use of evil, he decided the best way to stop Merlin from having his toes for lunch was to condition him not to want them. Now, of course, this might mean some pain for stiles, but all up, it will probably save him a lot in the long run.

That's how Stiles finds himself with hot sauce all over his toes.

He stands still and merlin launches himself at his feet and with only one sharp bite to his left big toe, the small cat pulls himself away with a yelp.

"Hells yeah," Stiles shouts, fist-pumping the air in success. "Suck on that you dumb cat," Stiles can hear Derek chuckling at his comment from the couch which makes a fond smile spread across his face. He really liked Derek's laugh, it was one of his favourite sounds.

"Stiles, why is their hot sauce all over the kitchen floor?" Laura asks when she gets back from coffee.

"Why do you assume it's me that made the mess," Stiles whines only to be faced with Laura's deadpan expression that basically tells him "Because you're an idiot, who else would it be,"

"Cause I put hot sauce on my toes," Stiles says with a sigh looking at the floor like a child in trouble.

Laura looks between Stiles and her brother who is watching the exchange with an amused smile.

"Are you two into some kinky shit that I really don't want to know about?"

Derek laughs, an out-loud big laugh that in any other situation would have Stiles looking at him in the same wonder-filled expression that someone would look at an angel with. Instead, Stiles was busy looking at laura with wide eyes and a fish-like gaping expression.

"What no! it's Merlin! the bloody shit has been out to have my toes for dinner since I got here!" Laura joins Derek in a fit of giggles, "What, why are you guys laughing at me! it wasn't funny! it hurts!"

"You- you didn't think to use maybe a spray bottle? or I don't know, wear socks around the house?" Laura says in between giggles. Stiles blushes because no, he hadn't really thought about it.

While he was smart, he wasn't exactly conventionally smart.

A lot had changed for Stiles in the two months he'd been living with the Hales, he was happy, felt like he was a part of a family. He'd gotten a job too, at the coffee shop near Laura and Derek's work, he'd even registered to finish high school online and was starting early applications for college.

There was also his weird thing with Derek. It hadn't taken long for Stiles to realise he had fallen in love with the younger Hale. At first, he thought it was something like Stockholm syndrome until he started leaving for work and being surrounded by Derek less and still found himself thinking of Derek's soft smiles whenever Stiles starts talking about anything he's passionate about, or how Derek is quiet until you get him onto a topic that he's passionate about, like ethics or the importance of the feminist movement. None of which Stiles had expected, but he loved seeing the way his eyes light up, eager to argue his point and inform Stiles of the injustices in society. Stiles also loved the way he'd begun to do so moving his hands around in a manner that he could only have picked up from Stiles.

Stiles wasn't exactly subtle with the way he felt about Derek, never backing away from an opportunity to touch the older man, whether it was sitting pressed up against his side while watching movies, putting his hand on his back when he was reaching around him for a glass or holding him at night after a nightmare, he was making his feelings pretty obvious. To everyone but Derek it seemed.

Derek seemed to just think that Stiles was some, overly touchy-feely friend, not even noticing how he doesn't act the same towards Laura.

The idiocy went both ways, however. It was something Laura was unfortunately privy too and frankly, found hilarious.

Because Stiles wasn't the only one who had become extremely tactile. For as much as Stiles touched Derek, Derek touched Stiles.

Derek was constantly standing or sitting in Stiles personal space, grabbing Stiles hand to fiddle with his slender fingers while watching a movie, playfully pushing and shoving Stiles in a way that was way more gentle than how Derek would with his sisters.

It was all adorable. And so, so incredibly frustrating.

It's like they were playing a game of chicken, waiting to see if the other would crack and make the first move. It was pathetic.

Laura was constantly wishing she had popcorn when watching the two interact.

Tonight was yet another one of those nights where Stiles was basically sitting in Derek's lap, his legs thrown across Dereks while they share a bowl of popcorn and watch the movie playing on TV.

Laura, on the other hand, was watching them, enjoying the fact that this time she did have popcorn. If asked, she probably couldn't even tell you what movie they'd been watching. She was too busy studying the way her brother held the younger boy protectively, how Stiles would turn his head away from the movie tow whisper comments into her brother's neck cause he couldn't reach his ear. How Derek would shiver as Stiles's lips brushed his neck.

It had been a long time since she had seen her brother not only so comfortable with someone, but also so vulnerable. She didn't think he would ever let himself fall in love again, not with the luck he'd had. And yet here he was, so obviously and completely in love, his heart completely in Stiles possession. Stiles could so easily break it.

And yet, Laura could never fear he would. Not when it would break his heart too.

Eventually, the film ends. The two men get up, miraculously having not noticed the fact that Laura was watching them the entire time. Neither looked especially tired despite it being almost one in the morning. Unlike Laura, both seemed to function best on fewer hours of sleep.

"Stiles, you staying in my room tonight?" Derek asks like he does most nights, the hopeful lilt to his voice everpresent.

"Yeah," Stiles replies, also like he does most nights already following Derek to his room.

While Stiles and Derek made their way to Derek's room, Laura made her way to her own, wondering to herself about what they would talk about, her brother doesn't talk much and Stiles is the opposite. They're the perfect match.

Stiles and Derek had talked a lot in the past, having plenty of nights to do so. They'd talked about their childhood, their life growing up, their ambitions in life and their hopes and dreams. Most recently, Derek had opened up about a woman named Kate Argent who had used Derek, not only as a sort of power play for her fathers' law firm which was in strong competition with the Hales, but how she had used him, used his body, made him feel lesser about himself, made him unable to trust anyone new.

At this point, Stiles asked Derek if he trusted him. Without hesitation, Derek replied "yes,"

"Why? I didn't have a very trustworthy start, I mean we met because I was trying to steal your watch," Stiles had asked, confusion lacing his words.

"I don't know," Derek replies honestly because he truly doesn't. He has no idea why or how after all this time, someone, anyone, could worm their way under his skin and make themselves a place in his heart. He supposes if anyone were to be able to do such a thing, it makes sense that it would be Stiles, he has this instantly likeable characteristic to him. At least most of the time he does.

Tonight, however, Stiles felt like it was his turn. Not that he and Derek were sharing in a sense of "show me your trauma and I'll show you mine" but because Derek opening up to him had given stiles what felt like the power to also open up.

So on this night, instead of sleeping on his side facing Derek, he wiggles his way under Derek's arm and rests his head on Derek's chest. Derek waits silently, somehow knowing what was going to happen and begins to thread his hands through the floppy mess of hair on Stiles's head.

"I miss my dad," Stiles whispers softly. "I'm still so mad at him for not looking into Scott's case more, but I miss him. I miss watching TV with him, and nagging him about what he eats, god he's probably eating himself halfway to a heart attack right now. It almost makes me wish I'd never left," Derek's hands freeze, too many thoughts running through his brain. Thoughts like 'if Stiles wishes he never left, does that mean he wishes he never met us?' and 'would he choose his dad over us? of course he would, it's his dad'.

"Derek," Stiles startles him out of his thoughts, "I don't wish I hadn't met you, of course, I just wish I didn't have to leave my dad behind to do so. You and your family mean everything to me," Stiles says. "You know, your mum reminds me so much of Melissa, she's Scott's mum, when my mum died, she was there for me, she kind of filled the hole my mother left. I think I accidentally called her mum a couple of times."

"I used to cook with her; after my mum died and I couldn't cook with her anymore. We'd kick Scott out of the house, he'd go with my dad, bowling, to the park, while me and Mrs McCall cooked and gossiped for hours."

"Why don't you call her?" Derek asks softly.

Stiles pushes himself up onto his elbows so that he's hovering over Derek. He wants to call her, he really does, he just isn't sure after all this time, she'd want to hear from him.

He thinks back to Scott's funeral, he had been so terrified to talk to her, worried that she would hate him for being the reason her son died. Instead, the moment she saw him, she ran up to him, he thought she was going to hit him, he wouldn't have blamed her, but instead, she pulled him into her arms and whispered into his hair "I'm so glad you're okay, I don't know what I would do if we lost you too,"

And yet, he had done this to her anyway. He got up and left, right when she needed him the most; when he needed her just as much.

"I don't know if- I don't think she would want to hear from me," Stiles whispers to Derek.

"Stiles, it sounds like she loves you, a lot, I'm sure she would want to know that you're okay," Stiles looks at him, looks deep into his gem-like eyes that never seem to stay one colour for long.

"Yeah, yeah okay, I could- I mean it'd be like ten at night there now, she's probably still awake," Stiles says pulling his upper body away from Derek to get his phone while leaving his legs tangled with the other mans.

He types in the only phone number that he ever bothered to remember, other than his dads and hits call.

It rings and Stiles waits. Until finally, Melissa's groggy voice rings through the speaker.

"Hello? Who is this?" Even through the sleepy haze, her familiar voice washes over Stiles bringing tears to his eyes.

"Sorry- I- I didn't mean to wake you," Stiles says, moving to hand up at the answering pause.

"Stiles?" Melissa whispers almost inaudibly through the phone.

"Yeah Mrs McCall, it's me,"

They both cry together for a while, basking in the sound of the other's voice as Melissa informs him of what she'd been up to, how she'd moved into the spare room at the sheriffs' house, Stiles's house, because she couldn't bear to stay in her own. And how staying there without Stiles running around talking a mile per minute wasn't much easier.

She tells him how much she misses him and asks if he's ever going to come home in a soft hopeful tone.

Stiles looks to Derek, who had been sitting at his back, a steady and supporting presence. He doesn't know what to tell her. Or rather, he doesn't know how to tell her he already is home.

"I'll come down and visit, soon, I promise," Stiles says instead.

All too soon, he finds himself ending the call, promising to call and text. He settles into bed next to Derek and falls into an exhausted, peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

Stiles isn't surprised when Derek brings it up again the next morning. Frankly, he's surprised he waited until breakfast to do so.

"Do you want to go back to Beacon Hills?" Derek had asked, eyebrows furrowed in a way that showed his insecurities, his fear that Stiles would leave and never come back.

Not that Derek would stop him if that is what he chose to do, as long as that is what makes Stiles happy.

"I don't know, not permanently, this is my home now, I'm happy here in New York. But maybe to visit? To check in on my dad and Mrs McCall," Stiles looks down, playing with the sugary cereal in his bowl. "Would you, you know, would you come with me?"

Derek is shocked by the question but finds himself nodding.

"Could we go someday soon?" Stiles asks, not looking up from his bowl. Derek can't help but take note the childlike state stiles seems to be in when asking, like he's waiting for Derek to say no.

"I'll take some time off from work, I'm due for a Holiday anyway," Derek tells him softly.

That how they find themselves, a month later, on a plane from New York to Beacon Hills for the week. Stiles holds Derek's hand for almost the entire trip.

He hadn't exactly told his father that he would be coming home, Melissa was picking them up from the airport and driving them to Beacon hills. She had gone and bought a bunch of groceries so that she and Stiles cook dinner in time for the Sheriff to get back from work.

At Derek's subtle insistence, they make lasagna, it probably helps that that is also the Sheriff's favourite.

Derek watches at the kitchen table as Stiles and Melissa dance around each other with a practised ease not dissimilar to how they do in the mornings before work. He watches as Melissa finds every excuse to touch him and watches him out of the corner of her eye as if she's afraid she'll blink and be alone in the kitchen.

It makes him wonder how many times she had had dreams of Stiles or Scott only to wake up and remember that they aren't there.

Stiles is telling Melissa how he met Derek, somehow managing to make it sound a lot more comedic without actually twisting the facts, when the door opens.

"Mel, I'm home," A deep voice calls out. Stiles stills like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide with fear.

Stillness wasn't a look that Derek was used to seeing on the boy. Melissa either apparently, as she placed a comforting hand on Stiles shoulder and whispers "it'll be okay," into his ear before calling out "we're in the kitchen,"

The sound of heavy boots hitting floorboards echos through the now quiet house and even Derek finds himself shifting uncomfortably.

"That smells-" the Sheriff starts but stops at the sight of his son sitting at the table. "Stiles," He says sounding like all the breath has left his body.

His dad looks like he's aged ten years since stiles had last seen him, dark bags hanging from his red-rimmed eyes portraying his sleep deprivation. His skin had a grey tinge to it and there were definitely more silver hairs peppering the brown than Stiles remembered.

Stiles gets up, making his way around the counter so that there's now nothing separating the two Stilinski's.

Derek counts a whole five seconds before Stiles is wrapped up in his fathers' arms. Even though he'd watched it happen, he wouldn't be able to tell you who moved first.

He hears murmurs of "I'm so sorry," and "I couldn't find you," and most heartbreakingly: "I thought I'd lost you too,"

At hearing his father whisper these words, Stiles tightened his arms around the man. In all this time, he hadn't even taken into consideration Scotts close bond with his father, hadn't thought about how his dad had stepped in after Scotts had left.

Derek turned to Melissa, seeing the tears streaming silently down her face. He doesn't know what to do, if it were Stiles, he would pull him into his arms and hold him silently, let him get it all out. But Melissa wasn't Stiles, she was a completely different person and it was never said that Derek was good with people. So he turned away turning his attention back to the men in the house, specifically the man of the house, whose attention was now on Derek.

Stiles pulls away, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Dad, I'd like you to meet Derek Hale, my uh," Stiles pauses trying to think of the right word, his dad gives him a knowing look and Derek interrupts before Stiles can find the right word.

'Friend' wasn't strong enough, 'Boyfriend'? well, they weren't quite there yet.

"It's nice to meet you, Sheriff," Derek says, holding himself tall, not showing weakness, just like his mother taught him to do when meeting important people. And the father of the man you're in love with definitely counts as a very important person.

The slight crinkle of the corners of his eyes gave his fear away to Stiles, who did his best to smile at him reassuringly.

"Derek, you been looking after my boy?"

"To the best of my ability sir," Derek says, shifting slightly as the older man's hand drops to his gun still in the holster at his hip.

"Okay Noah," Melissa comes up putting a hand on his chest, the ease of their interaction suggesting something more than friendship.

This is something Stiles picks up on too. "Oh my god, really guys?" He says, exasperation evident in his tone. "All those years me and Scott were trying to get you together and you're still not bloody together! you live together,"

Both adults blush, "You know what Stiles you're right," The Sheriff says, putting a hand on Melissa's shoulder to draw her attention.

"What?" She asks confused.

"They're right, I have been in love with you for a while, and I know you don't feel the same but we're adults and I'm sure we can coexist fine together regardless,"

Derek watches as Stiles literally smacks himself in the face, the action is ignored by the adults, Derek finds himself wanting to do the same. It was quite obvious that Melissa felt the same way about the sheriff and that both of them had been needlessly torturing themselves this whole time.

Melissa laughs at the sheriffs' statement. "You're kidding, right? Here I was thinking that this whole time Stiles and Scott were being little shits teasing me about the stupid crush I've had on you for years! and now it turns out they were being completely serious,"

The sheriff just looks from her to his son and back to her. "God we're so stupid, I've waisted so much time," and with that, the sheriff presses his lips softly, without a sense of urgency to melissas. It's a short kiss, it's all it needs to be and when they pull away from one another, they do so smiling.

Stiles wished Scott was here, they were finally going to be brothers, real brothers. It was part of why they wanted their parents to get together in the first place.

Stiles then looks to Derek, train of thought jumping tracks and thoughts of Scott being pushed back to be thought of at a later date.

He thinks to himself, 'what if we end up like dad and Melissa,' before a more disturbing thought crosses his mind 'what if we miss our chance, what if Derek moves on.' Little does he know that Derek is having a very similar internal panic.

They finally sit down for the dinner Stiles and melissa had cooked, Derek resting his left hand on Stiles's thigh as the small talk begins. Things like "so Derek, what do you do," "Oh well, I'm actually the managing partner of Hale and sons law firm," This makes Stiles's father choke on his food, apparently having not expected his son to have scored someone so powerful.

They eventually, somehow, stumble onto the topic of where Stiles had applied for college. Stiles knows that the smooth transition to the conversation was a result of his fathers' training in interrogation tactics.

"Actually, I applied mostly in and around New York, I really like it there," Stiles watches as his fathers face falls, this is confirmation that his son wasn't coming back. Even Melissa had to turn away at the news, it wasn't surprising, she had a feeling that would be the case, but the fact that Stiles was now confirming it was the hard part.

"Actually," Derek cuts in, "My mother and I were talking about doing joint Hale- Stilinski and uh McCall, Christmases," Derek chooses to leave out the 'if this week goes well' that he and his mother had added.

Stiles doesn't let himself get caught up on the hyphenated names, although he does consider how much better it would sound as "Stilinski-Hale". Instead, feeling his chest bloom with happiness at the thought that not only did the Hales want to include him in Christmas, they wanted to include his family too. It was a really nice feeling.

"You know what dad," Stiles says cutting off his fathers reaction, not that the older man had even decided what it was going to be yet, "I think Derek and I are going to hit the hay, it has been a really long day, are you alright with the cleaning up?" The sheriff nods in response, far more startled at his sons outburst that he should be considering how common it was for him.

"Is my room still, you know," Stiles makes a vague hand gesture that is meant to somehow convey 'in existence'.

"No son, I turned it into a home gym while you were away, you know, for all my free time," The sheriff says, deadpan expression and tone giving away his sarcasm. Derek suddenly knows where Stiles got it from.

Derek feels long slender fingers intertwine with his own before he's being tugged out of his seat and towards the exit of the room. "Night Mrs McCall, night sheriff," Derek calls hastily, allowing Stiles to drag him towards the staircase and Stiles knowing full well that he was doing so as he physically would not be able to move the taller, more muscle man if he didn't want to be moved.

Stiles opens the door expecting to be greeted by staleness in the air that can only be achieved by leaving a room alone for a long period of time like this one should have been. Instead, he's greeted with the sight of his favourite hoodie laid out on the bed, wrinkled as if someone had been clutching it hard enough and for long enough for the marks their hands made to become a permanent fixture.

He picks it up.

It smells like his dad.

Guilt floods through his system as images of his father sitting on his bed, clutching his favourite hoodie to his chest, morning the loss of not one, but two sons. Because Stiles knew, even without the legalities, the Sheriff considered Scott to be one of his own.

Stiles reasoning for leaving no longer seems very reasonable anymore.

"Stiles, are you okay," Derek asks coming to sit by his side.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," Stiles whispers not entirely sure he was just talking about his dad.

"You're here now, you're talking to him again and he knows you're safe now. That's what matters," Derek says it like it's all facts; like there's no way that its not the truth.

For that moment, Stiles believes him.

"And Stiles, what happened to Scott, it wasn't your fault, Its whoever or whatever killed hims' fault," Stiles believes that less.

They sit together on the bed, eventually slipping under the covers and talk about lighter topics, Stiles from his place in bed, points out different things, like his old lacrosse gear and tells him its importance to his life before, adding stories and funny little anecdotes for every piece.

Eventually, he runs out of things to point out, it's not until hours later, but the time comes when Stiles finds himself on his side facing Derek who was mirroring his positioning.

Their eyes lock and Stiles can't help but blurt out "I don't want to be like my dad,"

He doesn't need to see to know that Derek is giving him the patented Hale eyebrows of confusion.

"When I was little, hell, a year ago, I wanted to be just like my dad. I idolized him, I became obsessed with crime stuff because he was, I joined the lacrosse team cause when he was in high school, he liked lacrosse. I don't want to be like him anymore Derek," Stiles reaches out, once again intertwining their fingers and Derek finds himself shuffling forward as if it would help him to understand what Stiles was saying.

"My mum died when I was young, and Scott- life is short, life can be really short and I don't want to waste any more time than I already have," Derek's eyes go wide with realisation, finally connecting the dots, but it doesn't fully his him until Stiles whispers, "I think I'm in love with you,"

Derek's hand moves from stiles grip to cup his cheek where the younger man leans into the touch. "Good because I'm definitely in love with you," Derek says before pressing his lips against Stiles's own.

It was a soft kiss, barely a brush of lips, just a little bit of pressure that held the promise for so much more.

And the rest was history.

In the morning, Derek would text his sister filled with both panic and excitement and she would reply with one word. 'finally'

There would be a Hale-Stilinski Christmas, in fact there would be multiple hale-Stilinski Christmases that at Stiles's constant nagging become 'Stilinski-Hale' Christmases.

Eventually, there would even be a Stilinski-Hale wedding.

Stiles regains his obsession with crime, every time he comes back to Beacon Hills, he delves deeper into Scott's case, still unwilling to believe it was an animal attack because if it was, then there would be no one else to blame but himself.

it wasn't an animal attack.

It takes him years to figure it out, So many years that he's holding his daughter Cassiopia Claudia Stilinski-hale, or CC for short, when he does figure it out.

It turns out, it had been an enemy of Scott's biological father, agent McCall who'd hoped to draw out the FBI agent through the death of his son.

He made it look like an animal attack to hide his involvement. Unfortunately for him, it worked well enough for him to get away with it up until this point, but not well enough to draw out Mr McCall.

Life wasn't perfect, but both Stiles and Derek could honestly say that they were happy, and Scott watching them from above, watching his best friend, his brother, grow and move on and live the life he deserved, well, it made him happy too.