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He didn't mean to. He didn't plan it. He actually had absolutely no idea why he hadn't deleted Derek's number, but even though his finger had hovered over the delete button a few times, he never pressed it. For emergencies, Stiles told himself. Who knew what they'd be dealing with now.
It wasn't even that Stiles really wanted to talk to Derek. But if Stiles was anything, he was curious. Why did Derek and Cora leave? Scott hadn't asked. Kali was dead, she wasn't going to be after him any more. Sure, Derek was a beta again and he had never gotten along great with Scott, but running away seemed a little extreme.
Everything Derek did seemed extreme, when he thought about it. Things were quiet these days, everyone was paired up (or tripleted up, whatever the term was for whatever Scott, Allison and Isaac were doing these days, having the most polite and caring love triangle ever), and Stiles had time to think. He didn't really want to think about Lydia and Aiden, so he let his mind drift at night.
He thought about Derek's near-death, when they all thought he was actually dead. Thought about him getting mauled in the basement of the school, getting beaten up by the alphas again and again and risking death to save Cora. Thought about what he and Cora might be doing now.
So, really, it was inevitable. It was three in the morning and Stiles was buzzing, the excess of Adderall he had taken to stay up late and finish his homework combined with the coffee and the late hour lent everything a slight sense of unreality - like he was the only one in the world left awake and he could do whatever he wanted.
Without thinking too hard about it, he pressed send.
Where are you? What are you doing?
The immediate vibration of his phone made him jerk so hard he almost fell out of his chair.
D: Why?
He typed a quick reply, feeling suddenly a little less alone.
No emergencies, just wondering.
D: Why?
Are you a broken record? Is it that surprising that I wanted to know if you were dead or not?
D: Yes.
Stiles rolled his eyes and moved to his bed without replying. He had briefly felt a little better, that unsettled sense of foreboding and darkness constantly plaguing him abating just a touch at the sound of the reply notification, but staring at Derek's monosyllabic answer brought it all back.
He had started to drift off when the phone buzzed again.
D: We're fine. Still on the move.
Okay, well, don't be a stranger. Take care of yourselves.
_____
Still alive?
D: Yes, we're still alive. Why are you so worried?
You have this habit of almost dying all the time.
D: Well, if I die I'll be sure to let you know.
You'd be a ghost just for me? So sweet.
D: If I promise to haunt you will you feel better?
_____
Since I'm not allowed to ask you if you're still alive, instead I'll ask if you've watched any good TV lately.
D: This cycle of America's Next Top Model is pretty good.
Dude, no fair, you made me get soda up my nose
D: You deserve it.
____
D: Ran into another alpha pack, still not dead.
Are you joking?
Derek, are you fucking with me?
D: Yes.
_____
Derek.
Derek I'm bored.
Give me your bi-weekly 'not dead' check in.
D: Sorry, can't, I'm dead.
If you're going to suddenly develop a sense of humor, at least use it to entertain me. I'm at the most boring party ever.
D: Why are you staying?
Scott's here. Allison's here. Isaac's here. I'm staying on hand in case of meltdown.
D: Why?
You didn't notice before you left? Are you blind?
D: Notice what?
D: Stiles?
D: What's going on?
Oh my sweet summer child.
D: Stop quoting Song of Ice and Fire at me and tell me what's wrong.
D: Do I need to come back?
It's teenage drama, not werewolf drama. Stop worrying.
This has been pretty entertaining, actually. Thanks.
_____
D: We might have found an apartment.
Wow. Where?
D: SoCal.
What made you decide to stay there?
D: There's a pack. Cora likes them.
You don't?
D: I like them fine.
But?
D: I'm not really looking for a new pack.
D: For a pack at all, I mean.
Uh huh. You just love us too much to stay away forever.
_____
"So who is it?" Lydia asked him, as she sat next to Stiles at the cafeteria table,
"Who?" Stiles replied, putting away his phone.
"Mystery texter, obviously. You're always looking at your phone and smiling. And I know it's not Scott. So tell me, who's the crush?"
"You're delusional," Stiles told her.
_____
Sometimes I wonder if we made the right choice, doing the whole almost-dying thing.
D: Why? It worked out, didn't it?
Deaton told us it would change us. No one else seems to be having trouble dealing with it.
D: But you are?
Sometimes. Yeah. I just feel really alone sometimes.
D: You're not. You have a pack.
I know.
D: And I'm around.
Thanks.
________
D: How are you doing?
Fine. Sorry about last night. Being up late makes me maudlin.
D: Don't worry about it.
I think I just need a significant other. Hard to be maudlin when you're spending your nights doing instead of thinking ifyouknowwhatimean
D: Depends who you're doing.
Oh. Wow, sorry, insensitive. Pretend I never said that. Sleeping with multiple mass murderers would make me maudlin.
D: Just so you know, your apologies are the worst.
________
Derrrrreeeeeekkkk
D: Yes?
what re you doing?
D: Just finished working out, why?
cause i'm drinking. it's awesome. sorry you can't drink
wow working out you must do that a lot
um sorry that sounded like a come on i didn't mean for it to sound that way
just when i'm drunk i think people working out are hot
okay that didn't sound better i'm sure you're hot when i'm sober too
i'm just gonna go to bed now please pretend i never said any of this
_____
D: So, am I still hot this morning?
Shut up you're the worst. My head hurts.
D: Find any hot girls working out?
Let's be real, at this point you can be pretty much sure if I'd taken a girl home I would have texted you about it already.
D: I don't know what I did wrong that that's where we are.
You told me you were working out when I was drunk, clearly.
And I'm sure you're dying to tell me about all your steamy SoCal hookups.
D: Never use the word steamy again. Ever.
D: And these days, if I want to sleep with someone I just turn her in to the police instead.
Don't be funny when I'm hungover. I laugh and then it hurts.
______
Okay, I'm worried.
D: About what?
We can't find Lydia. Aiden can't even track her by scent. And she's been extra worried about Peter lately.
D: I'm getting in the car.
What? You don't have to do that. It's gotta be a 6 hour drive.
D: I'll see you in five.
_____
They were all sitting in Scott's bedroom when Stiles looked up from his phone.
"So, uh, Derek's coming to help."
"What?" Scott was clearly surprised. "How does he even know something's going on?"
"I told him, obviously," Stiles rolled his eyes.
"That's good, he knows Peter better than any of us." Scott nodded decisively. "We can't wait on him, though."
"Ohhhhh," said Allison, looking at Stiles speculatively.
______
Stiles heard the sound of tires crunching leaves and looked up from their huddle outside the ruin of the Hale house.
A door slammed and Derek was walking towards them. It's not that he had forgotten what Derek looked like - that would be impossible. But it was different, now, somehow. Maybe Derek looked happier, or maybe Stiles cared more whether he looked happy or not.
He shot Stiles a half smile before turning to Scott. "What are we doing?"
_____
Ethan and Aiden had taken Lydia home, still drenched in Peter's blood and laughing, and Scott directed Derek to drive Stiles home. Stiles was surprised he obeyed without question. Derek was staring straight ahead as he drove, the radio wasn't on and the night felt very, very quiet.
"Thanks for coming. And, you know, sorry about your uncle."
"I have no idea who that guy was. He's nothing like the uncle I remember growing up with."
The silence that followed didn't feel very comfortable.
"Do you have somewhere to stay tonight? It's late to be driving back."
"I'll figure something out."
"I'll probably just text you all night anyway, you can stay at my place. On the couch, or..."
Derek raised his eyebrow, and Stiles turned away, flushing.
"On the futon."
______
Derek came out of the bathroom, freshly showered and wearing sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. He sat down next to Stiles on his bed.
"Thanks for telling me something was happening. It felt... right. To be here."
"Are we your pack?"
"I don't know," Derek shrugged, uncomfortable. "Maybe you could be."
"Oh. Well, let me get you some blankets, they're in the hall cupboard." But as Stiles stood up to get them, Derek grabbed his arm.
"Are you okay? I know you said sometimes, at night... And I thought maybe after all that just happened... Just, are you gonna be okay?"
So many of their texts had been sarcastic, but there was no humour or mockery in Derek's eyes.
Stiles tried to think of something to say in response, but instead found himself sitting back on the bed and leaning forward to put his head on Derek's shoulders, his arms around him. Derek brought up his own hand to rest on Stiles' back.
"Would it help if I stayed? You said..." Derek asked.
"Do you remember the context of the feeling alone at night conversation?" Stiles kept his tone light and joking, but a flash of heat went through him.
"Shut up, we'll just sleep," Derek said, pulling them both down to lie on the bed.
"Fine, if you say so."
Derek had curled himself around Stiles' back, solid and warm, but Stiles turned around to look at him.
"You sure about the just sleeping thing?"
"It's four in the morning and we just helped kill my uncle. I'm exhausted." But he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Stiles' lips. Stiles smiled and turned around once more, pushing himself back into Derek's arms and getting comfortable.
A couple of minutes passed, but Stiles could tell Derek wasn't asleep yet.
"Yeah, this is better."