Chapter Text
Everyone thinks Stiles will be the one to cave first, which is exactly why he refuses to. To his (and everyone else’s) surprise, Derek has only been gone for three days when he texts Stiles.
Naturally, Stiles takes the conversation to mean that Derek does, in fact, want to talk to him. Some small, subconscious part of him, anyway. He texts him once every few days, with no replies in between.
After two weeks, he finds himself afraid that Derek won’t contact him again. (Wait, why does that scare him? Psh. He doesn’t care. Really, he doesn’t.) When he finally does reply, bright and early at 7:00 in the morning, of course, he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Stiles sighs, runs a hand through his hair. He’d been hoping that wouldn’t come up. It’s his fault, he supposes, for texting people at all hours of the god damn day.
Derek takes a good fifteen minutes to reply, all of which Stiles spends pacing around his room, worrying. He hasn’t talked to anyone about this; occasionally he’ll get together with Scott and Allison when they’re all feeling especially miserable, but he mostly prefers to just deal with it himself. Getting it off his chest is relieving, but also terrifying. Especially when the person he’s bearing his deepest feelings to is Derek Hale.
Stiles tries to make it at least a day before he goes running to Derek. He really does. But the darkness gets heavier the later it gets, and now that the offer is there, he can’t resist the desire to be comforted.
Minutes later, Stiles’ phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Stiles."
"Derek, hey. Man, it’s good to hear your voice." Jesus. Why does he say things ever? "I mean, not your voice specifically, just good to hear a voice…because, you know, it’s late, and usually there’s no one to talk to, and…” He tries desperately to backpedal, until Derek cuts him off.
"Yeah. You too."
Stiles can hear the sincerity in his voice, and no, it does not give him butterflies, thank you very much.
"So, anyway, I’m sorry for waking you up."
"You didn’t."
"Ah, you seemed so concerned about me staying up at all hours of the night, but you do it too, eh?"
"Not exactly. I stayed awake in case you needed me."
And that, well, that surprises Stiles. Because he didn’t know what he was expecting from this whole “tell me when you’re having trouble sleeping” thing, but it wasn’t this. Nonetheless, he’s knocked uncharacteristically speechless for a minute.
"I…" he trails off, searching for words. "You didn’t have to do that."
"I didn’t do it because I had to."
"Well, thanks. It means a lot. Seriously, dude."
"It’s no problem."
Suddenly, miraculously, Stiles finds himself yawning.
"Tired?"
"Little bit, yeah."
"When you can’t sleep, is it because you can’t sleep, or because you’re afraid to sleep?"
Huh. He’s not entirely sure, actually.
"Both, maybe? I’ve had insomnia since my mom died, but now it’s way more intense. Every time I close my eyes, I see everything I’ve tried so hard to forget. Lydia laying on the lacrosse field, covered in blood. Isaac coming after me that time at the police station. That mechanic dying right in front of me. Boyd trying to drown himself in that fucking motel bathroom. Scott, all broken and bloody and refusing to let himself heal. You…"
"Me?"
"It’s stupid, I know, with all the other, immensely more depressing things on that list, but…you leaving."
It’s silent for longer than Stiles is particularly comfortable with, but he can’t bring himself to speak.
"I know you said you didn’t mind, but I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye."
"Derek Hale, apologizing? That’s a new one."
"Shut up, Stiles."
"Yeah. Anyway, you don’t have to be sorry. You had bigger things on your mind than little old me."
"Don’t do that."
"Do what?"
"Act like you’re not important."
Stiles can’t help but smirk.
"Are you saying that I’m important?"
He can practically hear Derek roll his eyes.
"I’m saying that what I did was wrong."
"Hey, I’ll take what I can get."
"Good choice. So, I’m kind of exhausted. I’ll probably fall asleep soon, but feel free to keep talking as long as you like."
"For once, I’m kind of feeling all talked out. But can you just…can you just not hang up? So we can just…fall asleep together? Or is that weird? Oh, god, that’s weird, isn’t it? Forget it, you can just—"
"It’s fine, Stiles. I don’t mind."
"Are you sure? Because I don’t want to waste your minutes or anything."
"Goodnight, Stiles."
"Yeah. Yeah, goodnight."
For the first time since the sacrifice, Stiles sleeps through the night easily.