Fic: It's right in front of me || Stiles/Derek || PG-13
Author: marishna
Title: It's right in front of me
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles, Scott, Lydia, Deaton, Kira, Malia, Liam, Parrish.
Summary:
Derek leaned his forehead against Stiles'. "If something comes we'll deal with it. I promise."
"I know," Stiles whispered. He pulled Derek against him, holding him tight while staring at the light hovering at their shoulders. "That's what I'm worried about."
Warnings: Major (temporary) character death, descriptions of violence and blood.
Content Notes: Follows Changes on our hands and on our faces, oh, oh (part 1 & 2 linked)
Submission Type: Fic
Word Count: 2900-ish words
Prompt: #126 - Calm before the storm
Author's Notes: This little series that I didn't intend to be a series took a bit of a serious turn, LOL.
Stiles didn't need werewolf senses to know exactly when Derek woke up, as he stared out the large windows overlooking the city. His ball of light hovering steadily beside him, casting an unearthly glow across the loft, started shimmering and jumping in reaction to Derek's presence.
Despite himself Stiles smiled when Derek padded up behind him and wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist, burying his face in Stiles' neck and inhaling deeply.
"Why're you up?" he mumbled against Stiles' skin.
"Couldn't sleep," Stiles replied quietly, covering Derek's arms with his own.
"Nightmares?" Stiles shook his head. "This is the third night this week. What's up?"
Stiles screwed up his face, trying to put into words what he was feeling.
"Does it feel too quiet to you? Like... something's coming?"
"Are your Spidey senses tingling?" Derek asked, teasing but Stiles tensed enough for him to notice and he pulled Stiles around to look at him. "Hey, we're okay."
"For now," Stiles said lowly.
Derek leaned his forehead against Stiles'. "If something comes we'll deal with it. I promise."
"I know," Stiles whispered. He pulled Derek against him, holding him tight while staring at the light hovering at their shoulders. "That's what I'm worried about."
***
Two days later Lydia came to the door at the loft.
Stiles pulled it open for her, smile on his face.
She stared blankly at him and then began to scream.
Stiles went white.
***
"I knew it was too good to be true," Stiles grumbled while the pack met with Deaton to discuss Lydia's warning and what was coming. They were all sitting around the exam room while he was on the phone getting some information from his sources.
"What do you mean?" Scott asked.
"Things have been too easy lately. It's the calm before the storm," Stiles replied grimly.
"Just because Lydia screams doesn't mean instant death though, right?" Malia asked, confused.
"It doesn't mean anything good," Lydia replied, looking as exhausted as Stiles felt. None of them got much sleep the night before once Stiles started alerting everyone and he refused to sleep when Derek insisted.
He felt like screaming himself, and his spark was erratic within him. It felt like it was bursting to get out, like a lit fuse burning too quickly for him to catch before the dynamite exploded.
"I believe it's a vampire," Deaton announced, waking into the room.
"What? Really?" Malia said as Liam exclaimed, "Cool!" Everyone else glared at him for a second and he shrugged.
"Wait," Scott interjected. "I thought vampires were the one thing that didn't exist?"
"As much as it pains me to say it it would appear I gave you the wrong information, Scott," Deaton replied, looking appropriately regretful. "And because I didn't have any reason to believe they were real I don't have anything helpful for you, unfortunately. Vampires are exceedingly rare and no one I have contact with has anything resolute to help."
Stiles felt his body shudder as dread raced through him and he reached out to grab Derek's hand. Derek interlaced their fingers easily and squeezed Stiles' back.
"We'll beat it. We always do, right guys?" Liam piped up, full off naive optimism and faith in the pack as a whole.
Stiles looked around the room and felt like his heart was breaking.
They would fail.
***
"Why don't you go home and be with your dad tonight, Stiles?" Derek tried later that night in the loft.
Stiles shook his head and kept watch out the windows. "He's on nights this week and Parrish has instructions to keep him in the station as much as possible."
"Does he know?"
"As much as he needs to right now. He'd just worry."
"Stiles, I'm worried," Derek admitted and Stiles looked up, surprised. "About you."
"Me?" Stiles asked, confused.
"You've been weird about this for awhile."
"Obviously, Derek," Stiles snapped, nerves frayed. Derek blinked and raised an eyebrow.
"You don't need to take this out on me, you know."
"You're not taking this seriously!" Stiles yelled, standing up and getting in Derek's face. He wanted Derek to get mad, to get belligerent with him and feel the same chaos of emotions Stiles was feeling inside his head.
Derek reached out slowly and clutched Stiles by the shoulders and held him still, looked him deep in the eyes and flashed his own blue at him. Stiles felt his spark respond without telling it to and he knew his eyes were reflecting back at Derek.
"What's going on?" Derek asked as the blue faded.
Stiles hesitated and tried to find the words to explain. "I don't know what's it's like for her. For Lydia. She doesn't really know what it's like, you know? The magic I have in me has been something I could control for so long but now it's screaming at me that this is bad. All of this is bad and it's sitting in my fingertips. It feels like there's an itch deep in my muscle, you know that kind? The one you can't scratch?" Derek nodded. "That's how I've been feeling all week because there's something wrong here and I don't know what it is."
He paused, took a deep breath and covered Derek's hands on his arms. "And I know it's going to be bad."
Derek pulled him in close and held him so tightly Stiles wanted to push back but he squeezed his own arms around Derek and tried to hold him just as hard and bone-crushingly tight.
"I promise it'll all be okay," Derek rumbled in his ear.
"Don't promise that," Stiles whispered back. "Because I know it isn't true."
***
Parrish called Stiles in the middle of a sunny Wednesday afternoon while he was pushing a cart through the grocery store, unable to sit still. He felt like there was a lightning storm in his brain and his head was pounding since he woke up. Derek tried to take his pain but it was relentless.
As soon as he saw Parrish's name on the call display he knew it was bad.
"We got some reports of a domestic, couple deputies went to check it out. Stiles, it was at the McCall house."
Stiles felt his fingers go numb and everything else faded out around him except for Parrish's voice.
"Melissa's at work, I know that much. But when the deputies got to the house there was a lot of blood. One of them-one of the. Deputy Hicks is dead. Deputy Shaw is on his way to the hospital babbling about a monster he could barely see and that ripped Hick's throat out with its teeth."
"The vampire," Stiles whispered. His mouth was dry and he swallowed hard.
"The pack is already on their way."
Stiles was running, abandoning his cart in the middle of the aisle with all the frozen and refrigerated stuff in it. "Where?" he yelled as he left the store.
"As far as I know to the preserve. Another deputy who showed up said he saw a blood trail leading to the woods behind Scott's house so it seems likely."
"Keep my dad there!" Stiles said as he got into the Jeep.
"Want me to come ou-"
"No!" Stiles all but screamed. "You stay where you are and keep my father safe!"
"Stiles-"
But Stiles hung up, started the Jeep and was speeding through town to the preserve.
***
Stiles knew it was bad when he could smell the blood. He knew blood had a smell, obviously; he'd been around it enough in the past few years and got surprisingly comfortable with the spilling of it. But he usually couldn't smell it this well without seeing it.
He crashed through the trees and brush, feeling the branches whip him in the face and brambles caught on his clothes. He was cut and scratched by the time he reached the clearing, the same one he was almost killed from lightning.
Of course it would be there.
And of course it wasn't just one vampire.
Stiles took in the chaos, the overwhelming noise of snarling and growling and hissing and screaming. He felt his heart pound faster, like a panic attack welling up inside him but he knew it was his spark charging, building like a backdraft in a fire.
He skirted the tree line and saw the bodies of a couple vampires that were already taken down, their heads totally detached from their bodies. He couldn't see Lydia but could feel her and knew instinctively that she was somewhere safe. At least someone was.
Malia and Liam were fighting a vamp together, while Kira was slicing at everything she could, and leaving body parts in her wake. Derek was taking on two vampires on his own near the edge of the clearing as Scott was snarling and working on a big one that was backing him up against some trees. The sight made Stiles' heart jump into his throat.
Scott was already covered in blood, staining his face and fangs and his undershirt was drenched, now totally ruined. Stiles weaved between the trees quickly, hoping not to draw anyone's attention and got behind Scott.
Closer the vampires were ugly motherfuckers. No sparkly, smooth, pale-skinned Twilight heartthrobs here. Instead they were a mashup of the Master from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Quasimodo. They had jagged, sharp teeth and red eyes, were bald and clearly weren't affected by the sun. They were all wearing ratty pants only, nothing else. They had sharp talon-like claws on hands and feet.
The one Scott was fighting had him in a corner and Stiles could feel how winded Scott was, despite his ire and rage. He was getting sloppy and Stiles' went cold at the thought of Scott losing.
Stiles stepped out from behind the tree and whistled. Scott's vampire grinned at him, showing off his mouth of mangled, bloody teeth and started to advance on him.
"Stiles, no!" Scott yelled but it didn't matter.
Stiles felt his body practically sing at finally being able to unleash the power it was storing and instead of a blue ball Stiles willed it into fire and the force of his anger behind it not only engulfed the vampire in flames but he exploded almost instantly.
Liam and Malia's vampire advanced on him with them ripping at his back, but Stiles made quick work of him, as well, and laughed maniacally at the look of surprise on his face before he crumbled to the ground.
Kira's katana sliced cleanly through the neck of the vampire she was battling, sending it rolling across the cleaning and Stiles kicked it hard enough that it sailed over the edge of the clearing. That was enough to distract the remaining vampire Derek was fighting, the other lying at his feet broken and bleeding, and with a roar he grabbed his head and twisted it clean off the body.
Derek snarled and tossed the head over the side to join the one Stiles kicked.
The pack looked around at each other, covered in blood and guts and dirt. Stiles was the cleanest, with the barest amount of splatter on his clothes but his fingers were crackling with electricity, now back to blue. He shook his hands, as if he could get it off like water.
"So after we burn the bodies anyone want to get pizza?" Kira asked, breaking the weird silence.
Scott laughed, a sweet sound of relief, and tugged her into a tight hug, whispering to her so only she could hear.
"Someone's got to go get Lydia," Malia said, wiping her hands on her shorts, uncaring about the mess. "She's going to be pissed we left her in that tree."
Stiles wanted to laugh, felt like he should at that because the thought of Lydia being left in a tree of all places, for her own safety and the wrath that would inevitably follow was mind-boggling, but he still felt itchy.
His spark was still buzzing loudly in his head.
Derek was looking around at the discarded vampire bodies and frowned. "Are we sure-"
Stiles didn't think cliched shit like 'my life flashed before my eyes!' was ever really true but what did he know? Because a vampire raced out of the woods, eyes locked on Derek with his teeth bared, and time truly did slow down. For the rest of Stiles' life he would be able to describe in perfect clarity the moment that the overlooked vampire emerged from the woods and attacked Derek and killed him in an instant.
The vamp bit into Derek's throat and ripped a chunk of skin and muscle and tendon out, spraying blood everywhere.
The pack froze.
Stiles screamed.
It was a sound Scott said he'd never forget and it would wake him in the night for years to come, like the embodiment of a nightmare.
Stiles didn't remember the sound, not exactly, but he felt it. Felt how unhinged he was with the terror and sorrow and red-hot ire that flooded his body.
In a blink he was across the clearing and put one hand on the vampire's face. The vampire didn't know what happened to him until he shrieked and burned from the inside out. Stiles forced him to melt internally before exploding into ash.
Stiles dropped to his knees beside Derek's body, knees landing in the growing puddle of blood that was slowly soaking into the ground.
Derek's eyes were already blank and his chest was still.
The pack was freaking out behind him, Malia was snarling and Liam and Kira were crying. Lydia was screeching from somewhere in the woods while Scott ran up behind Stiles and wrapped his arms around Stiles from behind.
He tried to pull him away.
Stiles cried, "No!" and slammed his fist on the ground, sending Scott flying across the clearing from the power of it.
Stiles' fingers twitched and itched and moved of their own volition. He dug one hand into the blood soaked ground and felt it respond to his call.
He laid his other hand on the side of Derek's neck, grit his teeth and pushed.
Stiles' body burned, and he yelled out while he felt his spark turn from blue to red. He kept going and forced it out of him, transferring the energy like he never knew he could feel before.
Stiles felt Derek's heart thump feebly.
Felt his lungs take their first halting breath.
Felt his cells jerk jump start back into action.
Felt his skin start to knit together over the muscle and tendon repairing underneath.
Felt Derek come back to himself and his eyes pop open, blazing blue into Stiles' red ones.
Stiles felt relief and exhaustion and a faltering and then nothing.
***
He was so warm.
Getting to the point of being uncomfortable because his body was overheating, so Stiles tried to kick some of the blankets off himself.
His blankets didn't move.
Stiles slowly came back to himself before he opened his eyes, feeling his eyebrows furrow at the image of blood and bodies that passed through his mind. Not his usual dream-fare but, honestly, not much different.
He opened his eyes and blinked. He was in a hospital bed but in Deaton's clinic. He looked around and nearly gasped at how sore his neck was.
All at once his whole body protested and made itself known as one big ball of aching ouch. He wiggled his toes and frowned that even they were sore.
He looked down at himself and saw a head of dark hair and strong arms around his midsection. Derek was snoring lightly, too, and Stiles smiled.
***
"They don't know what to think about me," Stiles said a week later when he was finally getting his walking papers from Deaton.
Derek hadn't left his side the whole time he was at the clinic, but he was recuperating a bit on his own anyway. Originally there were two beds but once Derek woke up he insisted on being in Stiles' bed. The other bed was returned to the hospital from where it was smuggled from.
"They're not scared of you, if that's what you think," Derek replied, putting some stuff in a duffle bag the sheriff brought from home.
"Are you sure?" Stiles asked doubtfully.
"I can't blame them if they are a little. Hell, I don't even know what happened out there, not really. You've got power, Stiles. But even if they're scared of not knowing, they're pack and they're here for you."
"I know," Stiles said softly. "Not that it matters anyway."
He looked down at his hands that felt normal now. And useless. No blue light, no vampire-annihilating fire balls, no flowers from seed-nothing.
Derek crossed the room to Stiles and picked up his hands to hold them against his chest. "I know patience isn't your thing but you should give Deaton this one, okay? Wait a little while longer. I know your spark is fine."
Stiles smiled. "Even if it isn't and never comes back it's okay." He slid his hands up, one to his neck where the barest of a scar remained and one to his heart, the beat strong and sure under his fingers. "Totally worth it."
For the first time in weeks Stiles felt himself settle inside.
Title: It's right in front of me
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles, Scott, Lydia, Deaton, Kira, Malia, Liam, Parrish.
Summary:
Derek leaned his forehead against Stiles'. "If something comes we'll deal with it. I promise."
"I know," Stiles whispered. He pulled Derek against him, holding him tight while staring at the light hovering at their shoulders. "That's what I'm worried about."
Warnings: Major (temporary) character death, descriptions of violence and blood.
Content Notes: Follows Changes on our hands and on our faces, oh, oh (part 1 & 2 linked)
Submission Type: Fic
Word Count: 2900-ish words
Prompt: #126 - Calm before the storm
Author's Notes: This little series that I didn't intend to be a series took a bit of a serious turn, LOL.
Stiles didn't need werewolf senses to know exactly when Derek woke up, as he stared out the large windows overlooking the city. His ball of light hovering steadily beside him, casting an unearthly glow across the loft, started shimmering and jumping in reaction to Derek's presence.
Despite himself Stiles smiled when Derek padded up behind him and wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist, burying his face in Stiles' neck and inhaling deeply.
"Why're you up?" he mumbled against Stiles' skin.
"Couldn't sleep," Stiles replied quietly, covering Derek's arms with his own.
"Nightmares?" Stiles shook his head. "This is the third night this week. What's up?"
Stiles screwed up his face, trying to put into words what he was feeling.
"Does it feel too quiet to you? Like... something's coming?"
"Are your Spidey senses tingling?" Derek asked, teasing but Stiles tensed enough for him to notice and he pulled Stiles around to look at him. "Hey, we're okay."
"For now," Stiles said lowly.
Derek leaned his forehead against Stiles'. "If something comes we'll deal with it. I promise."
"I know," Stiles whispered. He pulled Derek against him, holding him tight while staring at the light hovering at their shoulders. "That's what I'm worried about."
***
Two days later Lydia came to the door at the loft.
Stiles pulled it open for her, smile on his face.
She stared blankly at him and then began to scream.
Stiles went white.
***
"I knew it was too good to be true," Stiles grumbled while the pack met with Deaton to discuss Lydia's warning and what was coming. They were all sitting around the exam room while he was on the phone getting some information from his sources.
"What do you mean?" Scott asked.
"Things have been too easy lately. It's the calm before the storm," Stiles replied grimly.
"Just because Lydia screams doesn't mean instant death though, right?" Malia asked, confused.
"It doesn't mean anything good," Lydia replied, looking as exhausted as Stiles felt. None of them got much sleep the night before once Stiles started alerting everyone and he refused to sleep when Derek insisted.
He felt like screaming himself, and his spark was erratic within him. It felt like it was bursting to get out, like a lit fuse burning too quickly for him to catch before the dynamite exploded.
"I believe it's a vampire," Deaton announced, waking into the room.
"What? Really?" Malia said as Liam exclaimed, "Cool!" Everyone else glared at him for a second and he shrugged.
"Wait," Scott interjected. "I thought vampires were the one thing that didn't exist?"
"As much as it pains me to say it it would appear I gave you the wrong information, Scott," Deaton replied, looking appropriately regretful. "And because I didn't have any reason to believe they were real I don't have anything helpful for you, unfortunately. Vampires are exceedingly rare and no one I have contact with has anything resolute to help."
Stiles felt his body shudder as dread raced through him and he reached out to grab Derek's hand. Derek interlaced their fingers easily and squeezed Stiles' back.
"We'll beat it. We always do, right guys?" Liam piped up, full off naive optimism and faith in the pack as a whole.
Stiles looked around the room and felt like his heart was breaking.
They would fail.
***
"Why don't you go home and be with your dad tonight, Stiles?" Derek tried later that night in the loft.
Stiles shook his head and kept watch out the windows. "He's on nights this week and Parrish has instructions to keep him in the station as much as possible."
"Does he know?"
"As much as he needs to right now. He'd just worry."
"Stiles, I'm worried," Derek admitted and Stiles looked up, surprised. "About you."
"Me?" Stiles asked, confused.
"You've been weird about this for awhile."
"Obviously, Derek," Stiles snapped, nerves frayed. Derek blinked and raised an eyebrow.
"You don't need to take this out on me, you know."
"You're not taking this seriously!" Stiles yelled, standing up and getting in Derek's face. He wanted Derek to get mad, to get belligerent with him and feel the same chaos of emotions Stiles was feeling inside his head.
Derek reached out slowly and clutched Stiles by the shoulders and held him still, looked him deep in the eyes and flashed his own blue at him. Stiles felt his spark respond without telling it to and he knew his eyes were reflecting back at Derek.
"What's going on?" Derek asked as the blue faded.
Stiles hesitated and tried to find the words to explain. "I don't know what's it's like for her. For Lydia. She doesn't really know what it's like, you know? The magic I have in me has been something I could control for so long but now it's screaming at me that this is bad. All of this is bad and it's sitting in my fingertips. It feels like there's an itch deep in my muscle, you know that kind? The one you can't scratch?" Derek nodded. "That's how I've been feeling all week because there's something wrong here and I don't know what it is."
He paused, took a deep breath and covered Derek's hands on his arms. "And I know it's going to be bad."
Derek pulled him in close and held him so tightly Stiles wanted to push back but he squeezed his own arms around Derek and tried to hold him just as hard and bone-crushingly tight.
"I promise it'll all be okay," Derek rumbled in his ear.
"Don't promise that," Stiles whispered back. "Because I know it isn't true."
***
Parrish called Stiles in the middle of a sunny Wednesday afternoon while he was pushing a cart through the grocery store, unable to sit still. He felt like there was a lightning storm in his brain and his head was pounding since he woke up. Derek tried to take his pain but it was relentless.
As soon as he saw Parrish's name on the call display he knew it was bad.
"We got some reports of a domestic, couple deputies went to check it out. Stiles, it was at the McCall house."
Stiles felt his fingers go numb and everything else faded out around him except for Parrish's voice.
"Melissa's at work, I know that much. But when the deputies got to the house there was a lot of blood. One of them-one of the. Deputy Hicks is dead. Deputy Shaw is on his way to the hospital babbling about a monster he could barely see and that ripped Hick's throat out with its teeth."
"The vampire," Stiles whispered. His mouth was dry and he swallowed hard.
"The pack is already on their way."
Stiles was running, abandoning his cart in the middle of the aisle with all the frozen and refrigerated stuff in it. "Where?" he yelled as he left the store.
"As far as I know to the preserve. Another deputy who showed up said he saw a blood trail leading to the woods behind Scott's house so it seems likely."
"Keep my dad there!" Stiles said as he got into the Jeep.
"Want me to come ou-"
"No!" Stiles all but screamed. "You stay where you are and keep my father safe!"
"Stiles-"
But Stiles hung up, started the Jeep and was speeding through town to the preserve.
***
Stiles knew it was bad when he could smell the blood. He knew blood had a smell, obviously; he'd been around it enough in the past few years and got surprisingly comfortable with the spilling of it. But he usually couldn't smell it this well without seeing it.
He crashed through the trees and brush, feeling the branches whip him in the face and brambles caught on his clothes. He was cut and scratched by the time he reached the clearing, the same one he was almost killed from lightning.
Of course it would be there.
And of course it wasn't just one vampire.
Stiles took in the chaos, the overwhelming noise of snarling and growling and hissing and screaming. He felt his heart pound faster, like a panic attack welling up inside him but he knew it was his spark charging, building like a backdraft in a fire.
He skirted the tree line and saw the bodies of a couple vampires that were already taken down, their heads totally detached from their bodies. He couldn't see Lydia but could feel her and knew instinctively that she was somewhere safe. At least someone was.
Malia and Liam were fighting a vamp together, while Kira was slicing at everything she could, and leaving body parts in her wake. Derek was taking on two vampires on his own near the edge of the clearing as Scott was snarling and working on a big one that was backing him up against some trees. The sight made Stiles' heart jump into his throat.
Scott was already covered in blood, staining his face and fangs and his undershirt was drenched, now totally ruined. Stiles weaved between the trees quickly, hoping not to draw anyone's attention and got behind Scott.
Closer the vampires were ugly motherfuckers. No sparkly, smooth, pale-skinned Twilight heartthrobs here. Instead they were a mashup of the Master from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Quasimodo. They had jagged, sharp teeth and red eyes, were bald and clearly weren't affected by the sun. They were all wearing ratty pants only, nothing else. They had sharp talon-like claws on hands and feet.
The one Scott was fighting had him in a corner and Stiles could feel how winded Scott was, despite his ire and rage. He was getting sloppy and Stiles' went cold at the thought of Scott losing.
Stiles stepped out from behind the tree and whistled. Scott's vampire grinned at him, showing off his mouth of mangled, bloody teeth and started to advance on him.
"Stiles, no!" Scott yelled but it didn't matter.
Stiles felt his body practically sing at finally being able to unleash the power it was storing and instead of a blue ball Stiles willed it into fire and the force of his anger behind it not only engulfed the vampire in flames but he exploded almost instantly.
Liam and Malia's vampire advanced on him with them ripping at his back, but Stiles made quick work of him, as well, and laughed maniacally at the look of surprise on his face before he crumbled to the ground.
Kira's katana sliced cleanly through the neck of the vampire she was battling, sending it rolling across the cleaning and Stiles kicked it hard enough that it sailed over the edge of the clearing. That was enough to distract the remaining vampire Derek was fighting, the other lying at his feet broken and bleeding, and with a roar he grabbed his head and twisted it clean off the body.
Derek snarled and tossed the head over the side to join the one Stiles kicked.
The pack looked around at each other, covered in blood and guts and dirt. Stiles was the cleanest, with the barest amount of splatter on his clothes but his fingers were crackling with electricity, now back to blue. He shook his hands, as if he could get it off like water.
"So after we burn the bodies anyone want to get pizza?" Kira asked, breaking the weird silence.
Scott laughed, a sweet sound of relief, and tugged her into a tight hug, whispering to her so only she could hear.
"Someone's got to go get Lydia," Malia said, wiping her hands on her shorts, uncaring about the mess. "She's going to be pissed we left her in that tree."
Stiles wanted to laugh, felt like he should at that because the thought of Lydia being left in a tree of all places, for her own safety and the wrath that would inevitably follow was mind-boggling, but he still felt itchy.
His spark was still buzzing loudly in his head.
Derek was looking around at the discarded vampire bodies and frowned. "Are we sure-"
Stiles didn't think cliched shit like 'my life flashed before my eyes!' was ever really true but what did he know? Because a vampire raced out of the woods, eyes locked on Derek with his teeth bared, and time truly did slow down. For the rest of Stiles' life he would be able to describe in perfect clarity the moment that the overlooked vampire emerged from the woods and attacked Derek and killed him in an instant.
The vamp bit into Derek's throat and ripped a chunk of skin and muscle and tendon out, spraying blood everywhere.
The pack froze.
Stiles screamed.
It was a sound Scott said he'd never forget and it would wake him in the night for years to come, like the embodiment of a nightmare.
Stiles didn't remember the sound, not exactly, but he felt it. Felt how unhinged he was with the terror and sorrow and red-hot ire that flooded his body.
In a blink he was across the clearing and put one hand on the vampire's face. The vampire didn't know what happened to him until he shrieked and burned from the inside out. Stiles forced him to melt internally before exploding into ash.
Stiles dropped to his knees beside Derek's body, knees landing in the growing puddle of blood that was slowly soaking into the ground.
Derek's eyes were already blank and his chest was still.
The pack was freaking out behind him, Malia was snarling and Liam and Kira were crying. Lydia was screeching from somewhere in the woods while Scott ran up behind Stiles and wrapped his arms around Stiles from behind.
He tried to pull him away.
Stiles cried, "No!" and slammed his fist on the ground, sending Scott flying across the clearing from the power of it.
Stiles' fingers twitched and itched and moved of their own volition. He dug one hand into the blood soaked ground and felt it respond to his call.
He laid his other hand on the side of Derek's neck, grit his teeth and pushed.
Stiles' body burned, and he yelled out while he felt his spark turn from blue to red. He kept going and forced it out of him, transferring the energy like he never knew he could feel before.
Stiles felt Derek's heart thump feebly.
Felt his lungs take their first halting breath.
Felt his cells jerk jump start back into action.
Felt his skin start to knit together over the muscle and tendon repairing underneath.
Felt Derek come back to himself and his eyes pop open, blazing blue into Stiles' red ones.
Stiles felt relief and exhaustion and a faltering and then nothing.
***
He was so warm.
Getting to the point of being uncomfortable because his body was overheating, so Stiles tried to kick some of the blankets off himself.
His blankets didn't move.
Stiles slowly came back to himself before he opened his eyes, feeling his eyebrows furrow at the image of blood and bodies that passed through his mind. Not his usual dream-fare but, honestly, not much different.
He opened his eyes and blinked. He was in a hospital bed but in Deaton's clinic. He looked around and nearly gasped at how sore his neck was.
All at once his whole body protested and made itself known as one big ball of aching ouch. He wiggled his toes and frowned that even they were sore.
He looked down at himself and saw a head of dark hair and strong arms around his midsection. Derek was snoring lightly, too, and Stiles smiled.
***
"They don't know what to think about me," Stiles said a week later when he was finally getting his walking papers from Deaton.
Derek hadn't left his side the whole time he was at the clinic, but he was recuperating a bit on his own anyway. Originally there were two beds but once Derek woke up he insisted on being in Stiles' bed. The other bed was returned to the hospital from where it was smuggled from.
"They're not scared of you, if that's what you think," Derek replied, putting some stuff in a duffle bag the sheriff brought from home.
"Are you sure?" Stiles asked doubtfully.
"I can't blame them if they are a little. Hell, I don't even know what happened out there, not really. You've got power, Stiles. But even if they're scared of not knowing, they're pack and they're here for you."
"I know," Stiles said softly. "Not that it matters anyway."
He looked down at his hands that felt normal now. And useless. No blue light, no vampire-annihilating fire balls, no flowers from seed-nothing.
Derek crossed the room to Stiles and picked up his hands to hold them against his chest. "I know patience isn't your thing but you should give Deaton this one, okay? Wait a little while longer. I know your spark is fine."
Stiles smiled. "Even if it isn't and never comes back it's okay." He slid his hands up, one to his neck where the barest of a scar remained and one to his heart, the beat strong and sure under his fingers. "Totally worth it."
For the first time in weeks Stiles felt himself settle inside.