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Stiles couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. He curled in the bottom of the shower, washing the dirt from Mexico off of himself. The water had long gone cold but he couldn’t make his legs carry him up and out, couldn’t make his trembling fingers shut off the water.
“Hey…Hey, save him,” echoed in his head, Derek’s voice soft. He shook harder. His chest tightened and he couldn’t breathe.
“Stiles?” He heard Malia ask outside the bathroom. “You’ve been in there a long time. I have to pee.” She sounded pissed but he couldn’t bring himself to move. “Stiles?” She asked after a pause and this time she sounded worried.
“Son?” His dad’s voice filtered in and he wheezed in a breath, shaking. “Malia, get me a knife from the kitchen, a dull one.” It felt like a second later but Stiles wasn’t sure if it actually was or not. It could have been, if Malia ran. His dad unlocked the door and came in, shutting off the door. “Aw Christ, son.” He sighed. He grabbed a towel and wrapped Stiles up.
“What’s going on? Is he ok?”
“Malia, he’s naked! Out!”
“So?” She made a face.
“…More than I needed to know.” His dad sighed and Stiles shook his head helplessly. “C’mon, kid, let’s get you dried off.” He scrubbed the towel over Stiles’ hair. Stiles grabbed his dad’s wrists, fingers still shaking.
“D-Derek?”
“…He’s fine. He’s fine, kiddo. You saw him. He’s ok.” His dad reassured him. He looked guilty and regretful, face wrinkled up in concern looking older than he had in months. He’d come right back in after he’d handcuffed him to the desk but now he was seeing just how not ok Stiles was. Stiles hated that look on his face. He’d tried so hard to hold it together.
“Y…yeah.” He took a couple slow, deep breaths. “He’s ok?”
“….He’s ok, Stiles.” Malia said from outside the bathroom. She sounded like she was realizing something and Stiles felt his heartbeat rocket up another notch.
“Everyone’s ok. We’re all ok.” His dad reassured him and then helped him get into some soft sweats and a t-shirt. “Try and get some sleep, son. C’mon.” He helped him get into bed. Malia hopped up too and pet his damp hair.
“I’ll keep watch.” She promised. His dad nodded a bit and went back down stairs. The television turned on before Malia started talking again. “So…Derek?”
“I… I can’t.” Stiles shook his head and turned, burying his face in the pillow.
“We’ll talk about it later, if you want.” She murmured to him. “But, for what it’s worth? It’s ok. I understand, you know.”
He wasn’t sure he understood himself, but he nodded anyway.
** * **
He dreamed of his mom for the first time in years that night. He saw her, glassy eyed and staring at the ceiling, gasping and muttering. He was holding her hand but she didn’t seem to realize he was even there. Her fingers were cold.
She turned to look at him just as the monitor alarm went off.
He sat up from the memory dream and gasped raggedly for air, tears streaming down his face.
“Easy, son. It’s ok.” His dad rubbed between his shoulder blades. “Breathe.” He urged and Stiles struggled to comply. He hated this feeling more than anything. It had been so long since he’d had a full on attack but he felt so off kilter and wrong, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t control his body. “How about you stay home today? Take it easy.” His dad suggested. Stiles nodded a little, scrubbing his arms over his face in no small amount of frustration.
He should be stronger than this.
His dad gave him a pat and a side hug before standing and leaving the room. Malia came in as soon as he left.
“Hey. I’m going to school. Can’t afford to miss or I’ll get all high off the highlighters again. Or have the whole text book read. Why does one day missed feel like four hundred?”
She rolled her eyes. Stiles huffed a halfhearted laugh. She sat down for a second, looking thoughtful. “We’re still not together. You know that, right?”
“Yeah… I got that.” He squinted at her in confusion. His eyes felt like they were rubbed raw with sandpaper.
“I know we kissed at the hospital. And I like you, I really do. But I think we’re better friends. I also think there’s someone else.” She tilted her head to consider him.
“I don’t have a thing for Lydia anymore.” He protested. She just gave him a flat look.
“Ugh. How can someone so smart be so dense sometimes?” She poked him on the forehead and then smacked a kiss to his temple before she got up and left.
He sat in confusion for a few minutes before laying back down and tugging the blankets up to his nose.
** * **
His mom couldn’t really talk towards the end. She tried but she couldn’t get the right words out and got frustrated easily. She sighed a lot, and drifted in and out of. He sat alone with her for hours and just watched her breathe and held her hand.
The helpless feeling never really left. It morphed to Derek gasping, blood on his lips, dying but taking the time to tell Stiles to save him. He gave Stiles an out so he didn’t have to watch someone else die.
“Hey….Hey, Stiles.” He heard Derek’s voice and jolted awake, quaking and grasping at his chest once more.
“What?” He gulped and blinked at Derek.
“You were crying in your sleep.” Derek said and sat on the bed.
“Why are you even in here?”
“Malia texted me. She said she was worried about you. You were worried about me?” Derek’s eyebrows quirked up in that way they had, simultaneously questioning and slightly judging.
“I…” Stiles started but his voice cracked and he couldn’t speak. His hands shook again. “You died. I watched you die. You… you talked to me and were going to die.”
“I did.” Derek murmured, brows lowering, pulled together in the center and mouth firming almost imperceptivity.
“I was there. When my…when mom died. I was alone with her.” He admitted. Derek’s eyes widened. They didn’t do this, they didn’t share like this, but Stiles had to tell him. “She couldn’t really talk anymore. But right before she died she looked at me. Like she knew I was there for the first time in months.” He took a shuddering breath and shook his head.
“I had a fight with my mom. That’s why Laura and I left for school so early.” Derek offered. Stiles coughed out a sob and covered his face.
“Shit, man.” He told his palms. “I just…I kept forgetting you were alive. It doesn’t feel real. It just feels like you looked at me and died. “
“Braedan was still there.”
“You didn’t talk to her though, did you?” Stiles asked, feeling a small realization come over himself. Derek pursed his lips and that was the tell Stiles was waiting for. “You wanted me to be the last person you talked to.” He meant it as a question but it came out more as a statement.
“Stiles…” Derek started but Stiles lifts his brows at him, fixing him with a searching look. “Maybe.” Derek admitted and sighed. He clenched his jaw and looked a little pissy.
“You trust me.” Stiles meant to ask but said again. He frowned a little, looked at Derek from under his lashes. “I trust you.”
“Yeah.” Derek agreed, albeit reluctantly. “You got under my skin. It’s pretty infuriating, actually.” He gave Stiles a bemused look.
“I’m good like that.” He cracked a lopsided smile. “You kinda got under mine too.” He felt disconnected from everything still and reached out before he could chicken out and snagged one of Derek’s hands. His skin was surprisingly soft and Stiles turned his palm up to trace the lines on it. “Guess you are real after all.”
“Guess I am.” Derek arched a single brow and shifted, linking their fingers together. “Want me to stay so you can sleep?”
“Yeah. Please?” He asked, chewing on his free thumb.
“Course.” He replied and shifted. “I need that back so I can take off my shoes.” He said lightly.
Stiles reluctantly let go of him and shifted back against the pillows, trying to get comfortable. Derek set his shoes by the door and climbed back into the bed, laying down beside Stiles.
Derek shut off the lamp and let out a long breath. Stiles squirmed, trying to get comfortable. Stiles turned and looked at him, inspecting the stubble on his jaw and his lashes.
Derek opened one eye to look at him like a sleepy cat.
“You’ve been a lot calmer recently.” Stiles observed.
“I’ve been under a lot less stress.”
“Knowing a banshee predicted your death is less stress?”
“….Yes.” Derek admitted. Stiles’ heart constricted in his chest and he sucked in a sharp breath.
“You were calm because you were waiting to die?”
“Stiles…”
“Just… just tell me the truth. Please?”
“Yeah. I was. I’m glad I didn’t though. I’m glad I’m here.” He shifted a little to look at Stiles.
“I’m glad you’re here, too.” Stiles murmured. He squirmed a bit more, rolling on his side.
“Stop squirming.” Derek prodded at him a bit, turning on his side to face him.
“Can’t get comfortable.” He muttered. He could feel Derek’s breath on his face from how close he was. It was the easiest thing in the world to lean in and press their lips together, so he did. He froze when he pulled back, eyes wide. “I…”
“It’s ok.” Derek reassured him and then gave him enough time to barely register what was happening before his kissed him again. It was chaste, light, a brush of dry lips and a nip at Stiles’ bottom lip.
He gasped against Derek’s mouth and his eyes dropped shut, his stomach swooping with want.
“Just this.” Derek whispered. The ‘for now’ was unspoken but clear anyway.
“This is good. Perfect, even. It should be unexpected but it’s not. Not really?” He puzzled.
“Stop thinking about it so hard. Sleep.”
Stiles nodded and flopped around a bit before Derek huffed a soft growl and tugged him back against his chest. Stiles let out a slightly hysterical laugh.
“What?”
“I’m always the little spoon.” He offered. It was very different with Derek. No soft breasts against his back, a strong, large palm pressed into his belly. He slid his own fingers between Derek’s, lacing them together over his lower ribs.
“I’ve never understood that. Big spoons don’t fit with little spoons. They’re just spoons.” Derek muttered. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “You’ll stay?” He hated how vulnerable he sounded all of a sudden, how small his voice was.
“Of course.” Derek reassured him and pressed his lips to the back of Stiles’ neck, breathing slow and deep. Stiles soothed slowly, melting back into the soothing warmth of Derek behind him.
He dreamed of reading with his mom, her smile, and Derek’s fingers between his.