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Derek is woken up by his phone ringing. Again. Really, this was becoming a rather annoying habit. He sort of preferred it when no one cared about him enough to actually call him.
Beside him, Braeden grabs a pillow and vaguely tosses it in his direction."Shut it up," she mumbles, and Derek grabs his phone grumpily, not even bothering to check the caller ID.
"What?" he snaps. "What now?"
"Wow. Hello to you too," The voice in the other end of the line sounds slightly miffed, if not a little amused, and-
"Stiles?" Derek says disbelievingly, and Braeden immediately sits up in bed to stare at him, grinning like a hyena. Finally, she mouths, and Derek scowls at her. Shut up, he mouths back.
"Uh, well-- yeah. I guess. Who else would it be?"
"I-no one. You just caught me a little off guard."
"I'm sorry."
And whoa, Stiles never apologized. Not to him, at least.
"It's okay, it wasn't that good a dream anyway." He was lying. It was. It involved a forest and Stiles and lots of hot, messy-
Moving on.
"Oh my god, you were asleep," Stiles says, sounding horrified. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
Derek didn't mean to make him feel worse. Aw, fuck.
"It's okay, Stiles. Really," Derek says, and he just wishes Stiles could know how okay he was with it.Because he'll always make time for Stiles.
"I'll call back later," Stiles says, and Derek nearly crushes the phone in his hand.
"No!" he says, and catches himself. "No, it's, uh, fine. I'm awake now, anyway. What did you want?"
Stiles mumbles something at the other end of the line, and Derek makes a questioning sound. "What was that?"
"Just wanted to talk to you," Stiles says, sounding a little embarrassed. Beside him, Braeden claps her hands, flails a little and falls off the bed. Good. Serves her right for eavesdropping.
"Well, I'm here. Talk to me," Derek says, and Stiles falls silent.
"I'm about to tell you something," Stiles finally says. "Promise you won't freak out?"
"I don't 'freak out'," Derek informs him.
"You're right," Stiles agrees. "You'll just go all growly and your eyebrows will disappear."
Pause.
"Why does everyone say I growl?" Derek mutters.
"Because you do," Stiles says. "You growl. A lot."
Derek clears his throat. "What did you want to tell me?"
Beside him, Braeden has climbed back onto the bed and is currently perched beside his ear. She's not even trying to look subtle about listening in. He pushes her face away and mouths go away. Obviously, she doesn't go away. Whatever.
Stiles takes a deep breath, ,and suddenly, Derek is hit with a sudden fear that Stiles is ill, or even worse--dying. Scott did say there was something off about him lately. Fuck. Was this what Stiles wanted to tell him?
"Donavan's dead," Stiles says, and confusion washes over Derek.
"Who's Donavan?" he asks, and Stiles laughs shallowly. "A wendigo. He-he clawed me, or something, I don't know. There's a mark on my shoulder. It's kind of gross."
"Are you okay?" Derek asks immediately. He's already preparing to shift into full wolf and run towards Beacon Hills, never mind the fact that they had a car and Braeden would probably skin his furry hide for leaving her behind.
"Yeah. I think so. I mean, I'm not dying or anything," Stiles says. "But I-I sort of-"
He breaks off then, and Derek can hear him taking deep, stuttering breaths. "And?" he asks as gently as possible.
"I killed Donavan," Stiles says in a rush. "I killed him-I swear, it was an accident, I didn't mean for him to die, but I didn't know what to do, and I-he threatened to kill my dad, he was going to kill-"
"Slow down," Derek says. "Stiles, breathe. Why did you kill him?"
"I-he was going to kill me. He was going to kill me, and my dad, and I couldn't-I didn't-I didn't mean to kill him," Stiles stammers, and oh fuck, he's starting to cry.
"It's fine, Stiles, look, it's fine, really, don't cry, I believe you," Derek says awkwardly. He's not good with crying people. Hell, he's probably the reason why they are crying in the first place.
"Don't," Stiles sobbed. "Don't tell me it was okay. Just-fucking don't, it wasn't, I murdered someone, Derek, I-"
"You defended yourself," Derek says. "There's a difference."
"Why are you being so nice?" Stiles half yells. "Scott doesn't even believe me! Why should you?"
"You don't want me to believe you?" Derek asks. Beside him, Braeden rolls her eyes and mutters something about PMS.
"I do!" Stiles shouts. "I just-fuck," he says, and his sobs slow down into small sniffles. "I-fuck, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you," he says sheepishly.
"I'm used to being yelled at," Derek says simply, and Stiles lets out a watery laugh.
"I pulled a ring on a bunch of bars," Stiles says quietly. "A bunch of them fell--some of them impaled him. He died, Derek. There was mercury coming out of his mouth and I-I took someone else's life, I killed someone-"
"To save your own," Derek says firmly. "And your dad's. And possibly a whole bunch of other people. Stiles, it's okay, it was self defense. You need to remember that you're human. It's not your fault."
There's a screaming silence at the other end of the line.
"Why are you so understanding?" he asks hysterically. "Why-you're not supposed to say this, you were supposed to tell me that there's a better way of doing things, that I should have handled it-"
"Shut up," Derek says, and Stiles makes a little 'meep'. Beside him, Braeden glares. Don't fuck this up, she mouths.
"I-"
"No, Stiles, listen to me, alright? What Kate did to my family? That was murder. What you did was defense, Stiles--hell, you didn't even know the bar was going to impale Donavan. What kind of monster do you think I am to accuse you of doing something that saved your life?"
"Scott did," Stiles says in a small voice. "He-he told me that this wasn't the way of doing things, and I shouldn't have killed him."
"Scott said that?" Derek asks incredulously. "Scott? As in, your Scott? Scott McCall, Scott?"
"How many Scotts' do you know?" Stiles asks, and Derek sighs.
"I leave for a few months, and suddenly, there's a Theo and a Donavan and a Hayden. Excuse me if I thought there was another Scott too."
"Don't get smart on me," Stiles says, and he sounds a lot more like his normal self now, albeit a little sniffle-ly. "Yeah, Scott. As in, my brother from another mother Scott. My b-best friend. I think."
"He didn't believe you?"
"He believed Theo instead," Stiles says it as though it's a dirty word, and Derek immediately wants to punch Theo in the face. Even though he doesn't know who Theo is.
"How does Theo come in?" Derek asks, and Stiles sighs.
"Theo knew that I killed Donavan. I didn't want to tell Scott, and he promised me that he wouldn't tell him either."
"He lied to you?"
"Basically," Stiles says. "And Scott believed him. I just- I can't believe that he believed fucking Theo over me."
"I'm sure he had a good reason," Derek says carefully. "It's hard being an Alpha, you know? Maybe he's under a lot of pressure right now, he might not be thinking straight-"
"I thought you were on my side here," Stiles mutters childishly.
"I'm on nobody's side," Derek informs him. "I'm just trying to be reasonable, Stiles. He has a pack now, doesn't he?"
"Are you calling me unreasonable?" Stiles snaps, and beside him, Braeden winces. Harsh, she mouths.
"No-Stiles, no, I'm just saying, is all. I'm not blaming anyone of anything."
Stiles doesn't reply, and Derek is hit with the realization of how much Stiles has changed. His temper seems shorter, his replies snappy and he just seems...miserable, in general. Derek wonders if it would still be this way had Derek chosen to stay in Beacon Hills.
"I'm sorry," Stiles finally says, his voice small. "I didn't mean to snap. It's just-things have been..weird. I guess. I wish you hadn't left."
At that moment, Derek hates himself for feeling just the slightest bit happy that Stiles seems to miss him as much as he misses Stiles. Then he immediately feels like an asshole. Because this isn't really about him, and he would honestly take an unrequited crush over Stiles feeling miserable all the time.
On a desperate attempt to change the topic, Derek asks, "So how are you and Malia?" Because even if he sort of slightly-dislikes his cousin for snagging Stiles, he hopes that there's still one good thing in Stiles' life. Also, it's hard to hate her when her eating habits are worse than Stiles. It's too endearing.
"We broke up. I think," he says flatly. "Whatever. I'm over it."
Well fuck. Derek Hale, king of instigating awkward situations.
"Are you really?" Derek asks, and Braeden facepalms. You should be happy, she mouths.
I'm not a bitch like you, Derek mouths back.
"Yeah. Whatever," Stiles says emotionlessly. "I'll get over it. She'll move on. What, are you going to tear me a new one for breaking her heart or something? I have bigger things to worry about here, Hale."
"Stop," Derek says, slightly irritably. "You're being an asshole." Beside him, Braeden mimes shooting herself in the head and drops dramatically off the side of the bed. She takes the sheet with her. So being a dick is his awkward situation defense mechanism, sue him.
"I'm-fuck. Some person I am , waking you up and bitching at you. You know what, I'll call you back some other time or something. I have to-"
"Stop," Derek says. "It's fine. I'm used to being bitched at, anyway."
Stiles laughs hollowly. "Those months have really done you good, huh? A while away from Beacon Hills and you're suddenly all zen."
"I even do yoga," Derek says solemnly, and delights in the laughter that that elicits from Stiles.
"I'd pay to see that," he mutters, and sighs loudly. "I guess I better get home. It's getting kind of cold."
"Where are you?" Derek asks. He's getting the urge to shift to full wolf and curl up around Stiles like a weird fluffy blanket. Something tells him that Stiles would probably enjoy that. At least, he hopes.
"Somewhere near Deaton's. In my jeep."
"Go home and get some rest," Derek says. "I'll be back soon."
"Yeah, okay-wait, what?"
"What?"
"You're coming back?!"
"Yes." Derek hopes that surprise is from joy. Imagine if it wasn't, how embarrassing. Braeden would probably shave a penis onto his tail for 'sinking her ship' , whatever that means.
"I-ok."
"Okay?"
"I-that's good. You owe me wolfy cuddles. No biting me either. "
"Of course," Derek says.
"And you better bring me a souvenir. Something awesome."
"I did." He bought close to fifteen, actually. Or maybe a few hundred. Whatever.
"And I want to pet you," Stiles continues.
"You can even give me a belly rub." Derek offers. Braeden throws a look at him that he knows translates to you never let me rub your belly.
"And I'm-I'm glad you're coming back. I miss you." Stiles says quietly.
"I-me too," Derek says awkwardly. For a guy with a lot of feelings, he's kind of shit at expressing them. Very smooth, Hale.
"Never thought I'd hear you say that," Stiles laughs softly. "Can't wait to see you, Sourwolf."
"What happened to Zenwolf?"
"You'll always be Sourwolf to me," Stiles says. The moment is ruined when Derek sneezes. Ugh, noses. Pesky little things.
"Okay, so I'll see you around," Derek says quickly. Stiles bids him goodbye and cuts the call, and Derek starts pulling his clothes on.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Braeden asks.
"Beacon Hills," Derek says.
"It's 4 in the morning," she says exasperatedly.
"The sooner the better," Derek insists.
Braeden sighs. "You're so whipped," she says, somewhat gleefully.
Derek doesn't even bother arguing with her because she's probably right. But whatever. He's going to find Theo and kick his fucking ass to the South Pole where he will hopefully be smothered by penguins. Nice and far away from his pack--his home.
Oh, and Stiles, of course.