[FIC] Tumblr Ficlet - Derek was gone - 1/1 - T
http://genim-stilinski.tumblr.com/post/124816864680/crossroadswrite-quick-someone-give-me-an-au
quick someone give me an au where stiles constantly goes to derek’s loft
he just walks in rambling and complaning until he’s halfway to opening the fridge because he always steals derek’s food
but now the fridge is always empty because derek left
i want an au where stiles, sometimes, because he’s done with all the things, just walks in, purposefully and sits down in the middle of the loft and looks around
sometimes he’ll spend hours there
just waiting, because maybe if he stays very still and just waits derek will come back
and he’ll help them and it’ll be okay
but it never happens
months and months go by and it doesn’t
until maybe one day when stiles is used to derek not being there he just walks in rambling, muttering to himself, talking to the walls like derek is still there like he got into the habit of doing
and he opens the fridge, takes out his favorite soda, sits on the counter to start complaining some more
and then stops
blinks
looks down at the can of soda he has in one hand and over to where Derek is sitting at the end of the counter, slowly eating your breakfast like “no go on, don’t let me interrupt your rant about butterflies and how they’re evil”
((I aim to please))
"So, I was hoping to pick your brain about a new case that's come up..." Stiles called as he waved a dismissive hand in the general direction of the bay window. His hand paused on the door to the refrigerator and he felt a tinge of unease. He pushed the door shut with a sigh, knowing that it would be empty.
As empty as the loft he was standing in.
He could feel how alone he was. No one lived on the upper two floors of the building Derek owned. Where the loft stood with its many memories.
He turned away from the empty fridge and kitchen to look out the windows.
The faint after-image of the Alpha pack's symbol that had been painted on the windows flashed across his mind for a moment before he shook himself and saw only the clean, clear glass.
Stiles sat down in front of the windows, eyes half-mast as he let his mind wander to the many conversations he'd had with the born wolf in this very space.
***
Several days later Stiles returned to the loft, mind and mouth running a mile a minute. Talking to Derek; well the walls but he'd never admit that, about the latest issue they'd been having with pollinating pygmy pixies. An alliteration that had him giggling when they weren't running from the clouds of pollen.
Scott, Kira, and Malia had been having an issue with the overwhelming dust up their noses. Stiles had managed to pull his shirt up in time to save his own nose. After a brief; cough filled, conversation with the queen of the pixies they'd managed to get them to leave off the heavy handed pollination.
Stiles managed to stop himself when he first set foot in the kitchen when he realized he wouldn't find anything to drink or snack on. Because Derek was still gone. And that still hurt. He moved to his place in front of the windows to talk as though Derek was still there, maybe upstairs. Listening without showing himself. IT wasn't much of a stretch of his imagination. Derek had done that very thing so many times before.
***
Weeks passed him much the same way. Stiles walking into the loft already talking to Derek; even when they never saw hide nor hair of the man, as though he was just around the corner. Out of sight but willing to put in his two cents if it was needed. Not that Stiles ever heard anything but he'd come up with several solutions while talking to Derrek; himself, in loft. He'd even started to get to the point where he'd just walk in and sit in the middle of the empty room, face turned towards the windows, and just sit silently. He had whole conversations in his head.
***
Six months later, Stiles marched into the loft like he owned the place. Talking and gesturing; he alternated between sitting quietly and talking to the walls, about the latest crazy thing that was going on. Combined with something he'd read in one of Deaton's various books. He wasn't paying any attention and headed straight for the kitchen without a second to remember the kitchen wasn't stocked with anything.
In fact the last time he'd been by he'd cleaned out the fridge and turned it off so it wasn't wasting power anymore. He'd only replaced enough light bulbs to make it easier to walk around when he was thinking an talking.
Stiles reached into the fridge and snagged a soda and smoothly hopped onto the counter; another favorite perch, and cracked the can open and brought it to his lips.
And froze.
The can was his favorite. And it was cold.
Stiles sputtered and practically fell off the counter and the stared down at the can in his hands. He gaped like a fish out of water and spun to see Derek sitting at the counter with a placid look on his face as he slowly chewed his cereal.
"Wha-? How-? But...?" Stiles tried, mind failing to come up with anything coherent. He set the can down and flailed with his hands as the tried to get what he was seeing and what his mind was trying to tell him on the same page.
"No," Derek countered before Stiles could finish forming a sentence in his head to protest the wolf's appearance. "Go on. Don't let me interrupt your rant about butterflies and how they're evil." He even punctuated his statement with a jab of the spoon in his hand.
Stiles stood for a second, completely motionless before he surged forward and hugged Derek as though he was trying to choke the life out of the older man. He was certain he was going to punch the wolf but his body and brain had leapt ahead of him to do what he really wanted.
"Shh," Derek soothed.
Stiles sniffled and only realized when Derek spoke that he'd been repeating, "You're back. You're really back! And you're alive!" Over and over again. He paused with a slight hitch in his breathing as he felt a large, warm hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles.
"I am. And I'm not leaving again," Derek promised and he nuzzled into the pale, mole speckled skin before him.
"Good," Stiles sighed as he relaxed for the first time in months.
quick someone give me an au where stiles constantly goes to derek’s loft
he just walks in rambling and complaning until he’s halfway to opening the fridge because he always steals derek’s food
but now the fridge is always empty because derek left
i want an au where stiles, sometimes, because he’s done with all the things, just walks in, purposefully and sits down in the middle of the loft and looks around
sometimes he’ll spend hours there
just waiting, because maybe if he stays very still and just waits derek will come back
and he’ll help them and it’ll be okay
but it never happens
months and months go by and it doesn’t
until maybe one day when stiles is used to derek not being there he just walks in rambling, muttering to himself, talking to the walls like derek is still there like he got into the habit of doing
and he opens the fridge, takes out his favorite soda, sits on the counter to start complaining some more
and then stops
blinks
looks down at the can of soda he has in one hand and over to where Derek is sitting at the end of the counter, slowly eating your breakfast like “no go on, don’t let me interrupt your rant about butterflies and how they’re evil”
((I aim to please))
"So, I was hoping to pick your brain about a new case that's come up..." Stiles called as he waved a dismissive hand in the general direction of the bay window. His hand paused on the door to the refrigerator and he felt a tinge of unease. He pushed the door shut with a sigh, knowing that it would be empty.
As empty as the loft he was standing in.
He could feel how alone he was. No one lived on the upper two floors of the building Derek owned. Where the loft stood with its many memories.
He turned away from the empty fridge and kitchen to look out the windows.
The faint after-image of the Alpha pack's symbol that had been painted on the windows flashed across his mind for a moment before he shook himself and saw only the clean, clear glass.
Stiles sat down in front of the windows, eyes half-mast as he let his mind wander to the many conversations he'd had with the born wolf in this very space.
***
Several days later Stiles returned to the loft, mind and mouth running a mile a minute. Talking to Derek; well the walls but he'd never admit that, about the latest issue they'd been having with pollinating pygmy pixies. An alliteration that had him giggling when they weren't running from the clouds of pollen.
Scott, Kira, and Malia had been having an issue with the overwhelming dust up their noses. Stiles had managed to pull his shirt up in time to save his own nose. After a brief; cough filled, conversation with the queen of the pixies they'd managed to get them to leave off the heavy handed pollination.
Stiles managed to stop himself when he first set foot in the kitchen when he realized he wouldn't find anything to drink or snack on. Because Derek was still gone. And that still hurt. He moved to his place in front of the windows to talk as though Derek was still there, maybe upstairs. Listening without showing himself. IT wasn't much of a stretch of his imagination. Derek had done that very thing so many times before.
***
Weeks passed him much the same way. Stiles walking into the loft already talking to Derek; even when they never saw hide nor hair of the man, as though he was just around the corner. Out of sight but willing to put in his two cents if it was needed. Not that Stiles ever heard anything but he'd come up with several solutions while talking to Derrek; himself, in loft. He'd even started to get to the point where he'd just walk in and sit in the middle of the empty room, face turned towards the windows, and just sit silently. He had whole conversations in his head.
***
Six months later, Stiles marched into the loft like he owned the place. Talking and gesturing; he alternated between sitting quietly and talking to the walls, about the latest crazy thing that was going on. Combined with something he'd read in one of Deaton's various books. He wasn't paying any attention and headed straight for the kitchen without a second to remember the kitchen wasn't stocked with anything.
In fact the last time he'd been by he'd cleaned out the fridge and turned it off so it wasn't wasting power anymore. He'd only replaced enough light bulbs to make it easier to walk around when he was thinking an talking.
Stiles reached into the fridge and snagged a soda and smoothly hopped onto the counter; another favorite perch, and cracked the can open and brought it to his lips.
And froze.
The can was his favorite. And it was cold.
Stiles sputtered and practically fell off the counter and the stared down at the can in his hands. He gaped like a fish out of water and spun to see Derek sitting at the counter with a placid look on his face as he slowly chewed his cereal.
"Wha-? How-? But...?" Stiles tried, mind failing to come up with anything coherent. He set the can down and flailed with his hands as the tried to get what he was seeing and what his mind was trying to tell him on the same page.
"No," Derek countered before Stiles could finish forming a sentence in his head to protest the wolf's appearance. "Go on. Don't let me interrupt your rant about butterflies and how they're evil." He even punctuated his statement with a jab of the spoon in his hand.
Stiles stood for a second, completely motionless before he surged forward and hugged Derek as though he was trying to choke the life out of the older man. He was certain he was going to punch the wolf but his body and brain had leapt ahead of him to do what he really wanted.
"Shh," Derek soothed.
Stiles sniffled and only realized when Derek spoke that he'd been repeating, "You're back. You're really back! And you're alive!" Over and over again. He paused with a slight hitch in his breathing as he felt a large, warm hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles.
"I am. And I'm not leaving again," Derek promised and he nuzzled into the pale, mole speckled skin before him.
"Good," Stiles sighed as he relaxed for the first time in months.