FIC: deep end
Title: deep end
Author: inlightofvisa
Rating: G
Genre and/or Pairing: Canon, pre-slash if you squint with your gay eye (it's the left one, I think)
Spoilers: 2x04
Warnings: Attempted UST
Word Count: 529
Summary: In which Stiles is like the postal service, and there is really, really scant amounts of dialogue.
Notes: If I owned this show, Derek/Stiles would have happened in the aftermath of the pool scene. But alas, I do not, so it didn't. Also, this is really just introspection so if you don't like a lot of action... this one's for you.
It breaks Stiles’ heart to see how much Derek doesn’t trust him. Normally, people tend to bond over life-altering experiences like almost sawing off arms, escaping from psychopathic werewolf Alphas, and then killing said psychopathic werewolf Alphas.
But, of course, Sir Sourwolf the Emotionally Stunted is emotionally stunted. Stiles can’t help biting back a wave of rage (and maybe sadness) while he’s treading water with Derek in the pool as the words splash out of Derek’s mouth.
“You don’t trust me, and I don’t trust you.”
Because Stiles doesn’t know how to tell Derek that what he thinks is wrong, it’s so wrong, it’s ten million times wrong. He doesn’t know how to say it other than with his actions. Stiles has always been good with words, but not around Derek. Never around Derek, because his mouth just runs and runs and runs and it can’t ever take a hint to stop. Like the postal service, Stiles’ babble always delivers regardless of walls, steering wheels, or even pools.
Thirty seconds is all he intends to take. He swims over, grabs his phone, dials Scott, and is immediately (unsurprisingly) disappointed by his friend. Curse him and his female-getting abilities. He dives back down to find Derek. The Alpha’s eyes are already closed when Stiles manages to find him. As if he didn’t expect Stiles to come back and get him. As if he expected Stiles to leave him for dead. But Stiles doesn’t have time for feelings now (not ever it seems), and he’s thrashing clumsily through the water down to where Derek is. And then they break the surface, and Stiles is running out of energy, he can’t keep them both afloat. But thank God for Scott and perfectly timed entrances, because… well, just because.
Stiles doesn’t really acknowledge the fact that he saved Derek’s life. Scott asks him about it in hushed tones as they walk out of the building, Erica slung casually over Derek’s back.
“You saved him?” Scott asks, a little in disbelief.
“Well… I mean, it was either that or let him drown or get eaten by the thing,” Stiles says, rubbing at his arms vigorously in some vain attempt to get warm. “There wasn’t really any other way.”
And then they’re all standing outside, Erica is conscious and on her feet, and Stiles is still a bit wet.
“What was that?” Scott asks, looking at Derek.
“It’s a kanima,” the man says, not missing a beat. His eyes don’t meet Stiles’. Stiles tries not to care.
“What? Is it like us?” Scott asks, fumbling.
“A shapeshifter, yes, but… it’s… It’s not right,” Derek says, tripping over his words, getting increasingly uncomfortable. Or maybe that’s just what Stiles thinks. “It’s like a…”
And the word suddenly clicks into Stiles’ mind.
“An abomination,” he says. And he knows why Derek wouldn’t, couldn’t say it, because… that’s what Derek is to the hunters. Derek’s gaze meets Stiles’ and for a moment, a brief moment, Derek’s mask slips. He’s weak, he’s small, he’s everything that a leader isn’t. He looks at Stiles, almost seeking comfort. And then his mask is back on, firmly in place as he nods.
Author: inlightofvisa
Rating: G
Genre and/or Pairing: Canon, pre-slash if you squint with your gay eye (it's the left one, I think)
Spoilers: 2x04
Warnings: Attempted UST
Word Count: 529
Summary: In which Stiles is like the postal service, and there is really, really scant amounts of dialogue.
Notes: If I owned this show, Derek/Stiles would have happened in the aftermath of the pool scene. But alas, I do not, so it didn't. Also, this is really just introspection so if you don't like a lot of action... this one's for you.
It breaks Stiles’ heart to see how much Derek doesn’t trust him. Normally, people tend to bond over life-altering experiences like almost sawing off arms, escaping from psychopathic werewolf Alphas, and then killing said psychopathic werewolf Alphas.
But, of course, Sir Sourwolf the Emotionally Stunted is emotionally stunted. Stiles can’t help biting back a wave of rage (and maybe sadness) while he’s treading water with Derek in the pool as the words splash out of Derek’s mouth.
“You don’t trust me, and I don’t trust you.”
Because Stiles doesn’t know how to tell Derek that what he thinks is wrong, it’s so wrong, it’s ten million times wrong. He doesn’t know how to say it other than with his actions. Stiles has always been good with words, but not around Derek. Never around Derek, because his mouth just runs and runs and runs and it can’t ever take a hint to stop. Like the postal service, Stiles’ babble always delivers regardless of walls, steering wheels, or even pools.
Thirty seconds is all he intends to take. He swims over, grabs his phone, dials Scott, and is immediately (unsurprisingly) disappointed by his friend. Curse him and his female-getting abilities. He dives back down to find Derek. The Alpha’s eyes are already closed when Stiles manages to find him. As if he didn’t expect Stiles to come back and get him. As if he expected Stiles to leave him for dead. But Stiles doesn’t have time for feelings now (not ever it seems), and he’s thrashing clumsily through the water down to where Derek is. And then they break the surface, and Stiles is running out of energy, he can’t keep them both afloat. But thank God for Scott and perfectly timed entrances, because… well, just because.
Stiles doesn’t really acknowledge the fact that he saved Derek’s life. Scott asks him about it in hushed tones as they walk out of the building, Erica slung casually over Derek’s back.
“You saved him?” Scott asks, a little in disbelief.
“Well… I mean, it was either that or let him drown or get eaten by the thing,” Stiles says, rubbing at his arms vigorously in some vain attempt to get warm. “There wasn’t really any other way.”
And then they’re all standing outside, Erica is conscious and on her feet, and Stiles is still a bit wet.
“What was that?” Scott asks, looking at Derek.
“It’s a kanima,” the man says, not missing a beat. His eyes don’t meet Stiles’. Stiles tries not to care.
“What? Is it like us?” Scott asks, fumbling.
“A shapeshifter, yes, but… it’s… It’s not right,” Derek says, tripping over his words, getting increasingly uncomfortable. Or maybe that’s just what Stiles thinks. “It’s like a…”
And the word suddenly clicks into Stiles’ mind.
“An abomination,” he says. And he knows why Derek wouldn’t, couldn’t say it, because… that’s what Derek is to the hunters. Derek’s gaze meets Stiles’ and for a moment, a brief moment, Derek’s mask slips. He’s weak, he’s small, he’s everything that a leader isn’t. He looks at Stiles, almost seeking comfort. And then his mask is back on, firmly in place as he nods.