robinonadderall | Not-So-Creepy Mansion | Specifically Derek's Room

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Not-So-Creepy Mansion | Specifically Derek's Room | Late Thursday Morning

Stiles had arrived back in Fandom early on Thursday, but it took him some time to get over to Derek's. He had been moving slow in the first place due to lack of sleep and the pounding in his head from the injury after the car accident. He didn't know if the nightmares were due to the recent trauma or the after effects of his sacrifice to the nemeton, but he did know they sucked. If they decided to stick around he was going to be in real trouble. The other issue he had was with Derek himself. He knew this wasn't going to go over well, but he had made the decision to tell the truth for once and he was going to go through with it.

Still, it was almost a relief to find Derek wasn't in his room when he got there. He sat down on the edge of Derek's bed and let Puppy Joe climb up in his lap. He scratched behind his ears absently, trying to ignore getting lost in the dark thoughts that always seem to be on the edge of his mind now. It was bad enough having to deal with them when he was asleep.

[For Derek!]

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And yet they were all near that goddamn thing when Laura was killed. So.

Derek looked away, shoulders hunched defensively before he walked away to put more distance between them again.

"It was a last resort and, like I said, it came with some consequences. Not just the fact there was the chance we'd stay dead, I mean," he said. "We, um, gave power back to the nemeton, which means Beacon Hills is going to be even more of a supernatural hangout. And it personally affected us. A 'darkness in our hearts' is how Deaton put it. I would probably word it differently."

"But it was worth it in the end, so, I guess I can't really complain about the after-effects."

"Stay dead?"

Stiles' head jerked up, not realizing he hadn't made that clear. Not everybody spoke emissary riddle words, Stiles. "I told you, we had to act as surrogate sacrifices."

Derek inhaled sharply, hands balling into fists. Did you really expect a positive response to this?

He really did not. He was hoping for some understanding though. "There was nothing else we could do, we were running out of time."

Oh, Stiles. You keep dreaming.

Derek didn't respond, electing instead to stay silent and continue his little mental freak out over this. Because why express yourself in an emotionally healthy way?

Derek not saying anything was a little unnerving, so Stiles kept talking to fill the silence. And to keep himself from getting too freaked out.

"We did it as safely as we possibly could considering what we were doing. Deaton was there and so were Lydia, Kitty and Isaac," Stiles said. "We had done something similar to Isaac a few months before and he was fine. We're fine."

Deaton was an emissary. Of course he was.

"Kitty helped you do this?"

"I asked her to," Stiles said. "I needed someone there with a strong emotional tie to hold me under and bring me back."

Metaphorically bring him back. He popped out of the water himself.

"It's not like I've been home a lot lately so it was best to use the person from Fandom."

That, oddly enough, helped not at all. Funny, right?

Okay, not so much funny 'ha ha' but funny 'you're causing Derek to have the kind of break down he had after he had to find Laura's torso in the woods.'

So. There was that happening.

"Okay, Derek, I know you're mad. I'd be mad too if you did it. Like, really, really mad." Furious, even. "But I had to help my dad, you have to understand that."

"Stop talking."

For once Stiles did as he was asked. If only because he wasn't sure what he could say to make this better. So he folded his hands in his lap and shut his mouth.

Derek opened his mouth to say something before he closed it again, lips drawn into a grim line. He really needed to end this, this relationship thing now before it ended with him burying another person.

He shook his head to himself, making a break for the door.

"Derek, wait!" So much for keeping his mouth shut. Stiles was up off the bed even if he knew he had no chance of stopping Derek if he really wanted to leave. "Please don't go."

Who the hell ran from their own house?

"You can't just--" Derek cut himself off, turning to face him. Because a fight would be so much better than loss.

"I can't just what?" he asked. To be honest, he'd rather have a fight than try to work out the weird silent thing Derek was doing before.

You couldn't do a lot of things, but none of which Derek could get himself to say. Like, say, make Derek be your friend and then nearly die, leaving him alone. Which was preeeetty pathetic, lets be honest with ourselves.

"You died."

"I'm not dead now." Didn't necessarily make things better, but it was the only thing he could think of to say.

Which was met with a very intense stare. Derek, just blink or something. This was weird.

"I'm not burying anyone else," he finally said. Oh, Derek. Derek, baby. You bury everyone around you because your super power is being a werewolf cockroach.

And now Stiles felt like crap. "Nobody's asking you to."

"Yes, you are," Derek snapped. "You make me--"

You know. Care.

Stiles frowned, waiting only a moment for Derek to finish that sentence (he knew he wouldn't) before speaking. "I'm sorry that I had to put myself in danger and that it upset you, but I'm not going to be sorry for saving my dad's life. Not just him--Scott's mom and Allison's dad too. Where would we be without them?"

Scott would have had to go live with his douchebag dad and he and Allison would have been orphans.

Yeah, Derek couldn't form full sentences with emotions being involved. So get used to that.

Derek looked away instead of using his words, body tense.

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