Fic: Occam's Razor (8/?)
See the masterpost for disclaimer, summary, and previous parts.
Stiles drove to the preserve, got out of the car, and screamed.
Squirrels scurried up trees and birds took flight and Stiles just yelled himself hoarse.
It didn’t give him any answers, but it made him feel better.
When he’d done all the screaming his throat could take, he went to a tree and sat down at the base. He curled his hands over the back of his head, face buried in his elbows, and gulped for air. He blinked hard against the tears swimming in his eyes and sniffled miserably.
He was trying so hard to save Derek’s marriage with the other Stiles, but fuck if it didn’t feel like it was his marriage that was stressed to the breaking point.
“It’s not fair,” Stiles said aloud. He banged his head back against the trunk of the tree. “It’s not fucking fair!” He closed his eyes and swiped angrily at the tears that tracked down his cheeks. “Other Stiles, wherever you are, I hate you.” He wished he could not give a shit about the guy who was supposed to be here. If he didn’t, he could just be with Derek. It would be so easy.
Falling for Derek would be the easiest thing he’d ever done.
“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Stiles lamented to the woods.
He wished his mom had still been alive in this universe. He’d give anything to talk to her. Somehow, he knew she would know the right thing to do.
Missing his mom tipped him over the edge, and he started to cry. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. Everything he’d been dealing with lined up to have their share of his sob-fest, and Stiles just broke down and let them have him.
By the time the tears stopped and he was down to hiccups, he felt like he’d cried for himself and Derek and Other Stiles and his mom and Nibbles the Hamster who died when he was five. It was getting dark out, and the air had taken on a cool nip.
He still didn’t have the answers.
But he did want to go home.
Stiles stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants. He swiped at the snot under his nose and rubbed at his scratchy eyes. Then he went back to the Honda he didn’t think was all that lame anymore and drove home.
He found Derek in the garage/weight room. He was straddling the weight bench, glaring up at a fifty-pound dumbbell imbedded in the far wall. It had torn clear through the drywall and punched out some of the bricks beyond.
“Hey,” Stiles offered shakily. He knew he looked and sounded like he’d been crying, but he honestly didn’t care.
“I broke the wall,” Derek responded, not turning to look at him yet.
“I can see that. Did you at least get the fly?”
Derek huffed and turned around to face Stiles.
He looked wrecked, but he also looked so good.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles said lowly.
Derek got to his feet and stood there, hands at his sides. Anyone else would have seen stonewall Hale, the definition of unapproachable made into physical form.
Stiles saw invitation.
He crossed the room and slipped his arms around Derek in a hug. It felt so fucking good. Like home. So why couldn’t it be? Why couldn’t he have this?
Derek folded his arms around Stiles and held him close.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles said again. Sorry for a lot. For so much. But especially for fighting with his husband. He might not have the right to call Derek that, but for one minute he wasn’t going to second-guess his gut. He should be allowed that much.
“Me too,” Derek murmured into his neck.
They stood like that for a long time, neither wanting to break away.
“So, was that our first fight?” Stiles asked, voice muffled by Derek’s shoulder.
“Nah,” Derek replied, rubbing his hand up and down the length of Stiles’ back. “We got into a pretty heated argument about cake icing once.”
Stiles barked out a laugh. “Cake icing?”
“Mmmm… we couldn’t agree what flavor went best with…” Derek trailed off.
“Went best with what?” Stiles prodded.
“I can’t tell you, you said I’m not allowed to talk about your penis anymore.”
Stiles guffawed and poked Derek in the side with one knuckle. “You prick.”
“Now who’s the one obsessed with dicks?”
Stiles snorted and relaxed against Derek. Derek chuckled and hugged Stiles closer.
Logically Stiles knew the hug had to come to an end, but he would have been fine if it didn’t. When Derek pulled back, Stiles dropped his arms and straightened to meet his gaze. Derek looked back him, his expression warm and open.
No… the problem wasn’t that he could love Derek.
The problem was he did love Derek.
“It’s never been that I don’t want you, you know,” Stiles confessed, because Derek deserved that much. “I just don’t know how I can have you without screwing everything up.”
Derek looked pained by that, and yet relieved, too. He offered a heartsick half-smile. “Maybe you’re just thinking too hard.”
“Or that.”
They went back into the house and got ready for bed, a quiet truce declared between them. Stiles headed back to his couch. As he was sorting out his blanket and pillow, he felt eyes on him and turned to see Derek standing in the open bedroom door watching him. He was in boxer-briefs and nothing else. Stiles got an eyeful of abs and pecs and so much beautiful skin.
It probably wasn’t an accident.
Derek Tempter Hale.
“Sleep with me?” Derek asked. And it really did sound like he meant just sleep. That he merely wanted to be next to Stiles.
Stiles winced. “I can’t,” was what he said. ‘I can’t have you,’ was what he thought.
And he had never resented any fact more than that one.
*********************
Things were better after that. Stiles wouldn’t say normal - because he was in an alternate universe in the future where he was married to Derek Hale, so what was normal? - but they were definitely better.
At least Derek knew Stiles had the hots for him. And Stiles knew that Derek knew. There was a lot of knowing of things going on, and it stopped them from having another fight about it.
But what it didn’t stop was the flirting.
Stiles wasn’t even sure if that was the right word, but now that Derek knew he wasn’t being rejected on the basis of lack of interest, he seemed to be intent on seeing just how close Stiles would let him get. And Stiles, masochist that he clearly was, liked it.
Liked it too much, truth be told, but enjoying it wasn’t wrong, right? Other Stiles wouldn’t hold that against him, would he? As long as he didn’t do anything about it?
Then again, this had only been going on two days, and already Stiles felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin… or climb Derek. That was probably a bad sign.
But it was so hard to care when Derek walked into the kitchen while Stiles was leaning over the island reading ShineGold and traced his hand down the length of Stiles’ back. Stiles barely stopped himself from arching into the touch. He got now why cats liked that shit so much.
“I emailed Lydia this morning,” Derek said as he dropped his hand off Stiles’ back and went over to the counter to grab a banana. There was that hint of an edge in his voice whenever he mentioned Lydia that Stiles still didn’t get, but for the moment he let it slide.
“Thank you.” Kira and Scott were giving him big goose eggs. The internet had failed him miserably. One could only do so much laundry, so Stiles had a lot of free hours when Derek was at work to research online. But when he searched ‘alternate universe’ or ‘alternate reality’, all he got was a lot of Star Trek and Dr. Who and weird-ass fanfiction that was less than useless to him.
He was counting on Lydia.
“Did you tell her ‘help me, Lydia Martin, you’re my only hope’?”
Derek froze right before taking a bite. “No… was I supposed to?”
Stiles dismissed the matter with a wave and turned back to the book. Mostly so he didn’t have to watch Derek eat a phallic-shaped piece of fruit.
So much for getting his head out of the gutter, though, because Derek came up behind Stiles and just fucking pressed into him as he leaned down to look over Stiles’ shoulder. Derek’s body heat draped over Stiles’ right side, buttock to back to shoulder, and fried several of Stiles’ synapses in the process.
“Ahem,” Stiles pointedly cleared his throat.
“Just looking to see where you’re at.”
“You so are not, liarwolf. Back off me, Hale,” Stiles nudged Derek with his shoulder to demand some breathing room.
Derek chuckled and took a half-step back. “Still think Sik’s the bad guy?”
“Gender aside, yes! Dude, she’s awful! Her whole species is.” Stiles put his bookmark in place, put down the book, and turned to eye Derek. “In fact, I’m rethinking this whole marriage now.”
Derek snorted and bit off another piece of banana.
“So can I ask you something?”
He was rewarded with a ‘go ahead’ gesture as Derek moved back to lean a hip against the counter.
“What’s he like? Your Stiles, I mean.”
Derek stopped chewing a moment, frowning. He looked constipated. “Why are you so sure you’re two different people?”
Yeah… Derek did always push the ‘lost memories’ angle, while Stiles was firmly in the ‘alternate universe’ camp.
“Instinct? I’m never going to have it this good.” He gestured first at Derek, then around to encompass the house in general (and by extension this life). “I know that. It’s just not something in the cards for me.” He wasn’t being dramatic, just honest. Stiles was not that lucky.
But Derek looked troubled. “Well… he’s just like you. Even that,” he gestured at Stiles. “You say things like that, and I think back to when you were eighteen when you would have said the same thing. When we were both… not in a good place.”
That comparison made Stiles acutely uncomfortable, though he didn’t really want to analyze why.
“Let me ask you… has anyone told you anything about your childhood or your family that doesn’t fit with your memories up to the point when you were seventeen?”
Stiles didn’t like where this was going. “No.”
“Then why can’t it just be that you lost your memories?”
Danger, Will Robinson. Danger! “Because it’s not.”
Derek lifted one eyebrow. “Then why do you have his scars? If you switched out with ‘my Stiles’, why would you have them?”
“It’s… it’s like a Quantum Leap thing! My consciousness jumped in here, not my body. I’m me on the inside and him on the outside.” Even though they were both Stiles inside and outside, but that got confusing.
“I think you’re reaching.” Derek tossed the banana peel in the trash. “I just can’t figure out why.”
Because if Stiles let himself believe that Derek was right, and then it turned out he wasn’t, Stiles would lose so much. Instead of losing a dream, he’d lose a husband. Clinging to the alternate world theory was pure self-defense on Stiles’ part.
“If you’re so sure,” Derek challenged, “why do you wear ‘his’ ring?”
Stiles looked down guiltily at the wedding ring on his left hand. “Well, I… uh… yeah, I don’t really have a good answer for that.”
They were both quiet for a moment before Derek ventured, “I get it, you know.”
“You do?”
Derek nodded. “I was there. I remember how much that nogitsune screwed you up.”
Stiles fidgeted. He wanted to deny that, to say it wasn’t about that, but even he wouldn’t believe that lie. Yes, he was miles of scar tissue psychologically. Wouldn’t anyone be if they’d gone through the hell Stiles had?
“But I was a mess back then, too. It was something we got through together.” He looked pensive, like he was just now seeing the problem in a new light. “I wish I had enough vacation days to go on a road trip with you.”
Yeah, Stiles did, too. That sounded nice. He wanted to live the pictures in the album. And selfishly, he wanted some memories with Derek that were just his.
“But I’m trying to save them up, so that’s not happening right now.” That distracted look on his face again.
“Derek?”
“Let me think about it for a while. I’m sure I can come up with something.” Then he visibly shook himself. “We’re supposed to be at Dad’s house in half an hour, right?”
It was a blatant deflection, not even skillful… then Stiles looked at the clock and realized he was right. Derek and John both had the same day off, and they’d arranged to get the family together for dinner and a movie.
But Derek could be both conniving and right at the same time.
********************
“Is Derek okay?”
Stiles looked over at his father beside him on the couch, then followed his eyes to Derek in the kitchen talking on his cell phone with his back to them. He’d missed probably half the movie because he had one call or another he had to make.
“We had a… kind of a weird conversation before we left the house.” And ever since, Derek had gone quiet. He’d been off in his own head during dinner. Though honestly, Stiles had been pretty preoccupied with their discussion, too. Derek had said some things that made Stiles think.
“Dad, what do you think is wrong with me?”
“Oh, where to start…”
Stiles threw a handful of popcorn at his face. John chuckled and picked it off his shirt front to pop into his mouth.
“I’m serious.”
John looked searchingly over at his son.
“What do you think my problem is? What is this?” Stiles made a gesture at his person.
The sheriff pursed his lips. “Amnesia?”
“Amnesia.”
“Or something like it. Because it’s not like there is one fixed point where you can’t remember anything before or after, which is what I always understood amnesia was. It’s just a seven-year gap. So I don’t know if that’s technically amnesia, but… if I had to call it something, then yeah, amnesia.”
“So you think it’s a memory thing.”
“What else would it be?”
Stiles scowled down at the popcorn bowl on his lap.
“Son? What is it?” John put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.
“So, hypothetically…”
“Oh boy.”
“What?” Stiles asked indignantly. “I haven’t even asked it yet!”
“I raised you, kid. I know what to expect when you pose a hypothetical.”
Stiles gave his father an insulted look, then he forged on. “Hypothetically… if you had a son…”
John put his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes. “Wait, wait… let me imagine that. Hmmm… okay, go ahead.”
Stiles tried not to smirk. “And he got sucked into an alternate universe, and he had a spouse there… would you… would you want him to go with it? I mean, like… would him doing anything with said alternate reality spouse count as anyone being unfaithful, do you think?”
John opened his eyes and dropped his hands into his lap to look over at Stiles. He wasn’t playing anymore. “Is that what you and Derek talked about?”
“More or less.”
For a moment, his father gave that some thought. “So I take it you think you’re some sort of Other Dimension Stiles?” By his tone, Stiles could tell his father didn’t agree with that theory, but at least he was playing Devil’s Advocate for the sake of the conversation. Stiles nodded. “And you… you’re worried because Other Dimension Stiles maybe has a thing for This Dimension Derek?” Again, a nod. John sat back with an intrigued, “Huh.”
“You think it’s dumb,” Stiles mumbled.
“No, I don’t. I don’t think it’s dumb at all. I just think it flies in the face of Occam’s razor to go with alternate anybody or dimension this and that. But,” John held up his hands in deference, “for the sake of argument, let’s say it is. Would I want my son, who has traveled to an alternate universe, to embrace having a husband when he got there?” John thought about it a moment. “Yes, I would.”
“You would?” Stiles asked, trying not to sound hopeful.
John nodded. “You want to know why? Because I can’t imagine any reality where I didn’t love you and didn’t want you to be happy. Does Other Dimension John love you?”
“Definitely.”
“I’m sure he and I agree, then. Don’t deny yourself something that can make you happy. Life’s too short.”
Claudia Stilinski always seemed to haunt that phrase whenever John or Stiles used it.
Stiles picked at a piece of popcorn distractedly.
“What if the situation was reversed?” John threw the scenario back his way. “Just hypothetically, if you were the one married to Derek and for some reason another Stiles was suddenly living your life… would you resent him for being with Derek?”
“I… I don’t know.” Hate himself for having a chance to be with Derek Hale and taking it? He didn’t think he’d resent it. At the very least, he would understand it. Hell, if the Stiles that took his place had the kind of luck he did, he might grant the poor bastard a ‘get out of jail free’ card.
Because Stiles didn’t hate himself. He didn’t think he deserved the shit life threw at him. It was just what he got and he had to make the best of it.
John asked, “Would you be mad at Derek if he wanted to be with him? I mean, another you?”
“No.” That one he felt sure of. Because bottom-line, Derek was loyal to his husband. And Derek was certain Stiles was his Stiles. There wasn’t a question of fidelity in Derek’s mind.
And Stiles would not be mad at Derek for loving him.
Which really brought it down to the Stiles who was supposed to be here. What would he think?
“What do you think? Would your son hate me if I…” Stiles glanced toward the kitchen where Derek was still on the phone.
“You are my son. And I never think it’s wrong for you to love your husband.”
Stiles had no idea how the movie ended, because he was too wrapped up in his own head. The whirlwind of what ifs and what nows.
Next
Stiles drove to the preserve, got out of the car, and screamed.
Squirrels scurried up trees and birds took flight and Stiles just yelled himself hoarse.
It didn’t give him any answers, but it made him feel better.
When he’d done all the screaming his throat could take, he went to a tree and sat down at the base. He curled his hands over the back of his head, face buried in his elbows, and gulped for air. He blinked hard against the tears swimming in his eyes and sniffled miserably.
He was trying so hard to save Derek’s marriage with the other Stiles, but fuck if it didn’t feel like it was his marriage that was stressed to the breaking point.
“It’s not fair,” Stiles said aloud. He banged his head back against the trunk of the tree. “It’s not fucking fair!” He closed his eyes and swiped angrily at the tears that tracked down his cheeks. “Other Stiles, wherever you are, I hate you.” He wished he could not give a shit about the guy who was supposed to be here. If he didn’t, he could just be with Derek. It would be so easy.
Falling for Derek would be the easiest thing he’d ever done.
“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Stiles lamented to the woods.
He wished his mom had still been alive in this universe. He’d give anything to talk to her. Somehow, he knew she would know the right thing to do.
Missing his mom tipped him over the edge, and he started to cry. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. Everything he’d been dealing with lined up to have their share of his sob-fest, and Stiles just broke down and let them have him.
By the time the tears stopped and he was down to hiccups, he felt like he’d cried for himself and Derek and Other Stiles and his mom and Nibbles the Hamster who died when he was five. It was getting dark out, and the air had taken on a cool nip.
He still didn’t have the answers.
But he did want to go home.
Stiles stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants. He swiped at the snot under his nose and rubbed at his scratchy eyes. Then he went back to the Honda he didn’t think was all that lame anymore and drove home.
He found Derek in the garage/weight room. He was straddling the weight bench, glaring up at a fifty-pound dumbbell imbedded in the far wall. It had torn clear through the drywall and punched out some of the bricks beyond.
“Hey,” Stiles offered shakily. He knew he looked and sounded like he’d been crying, but he honestly didn’t care.
“I broke the wall,” Derek responded, not turning to look at him yet.
“I can see that. Did you at least get the fly?”
Derek huffed and turned around to face Stiles.
He looked wrecked, but he also looked so good.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles said lowly.
Derek got to his feet and stood there, hands at his sides. Anyone else would have seen stonewall Hale, the definition of unapproachable made into physical form.
Stiles saw invitation.
He crossed the room and slipped his arms around Derek in a hug. It felt so fucking good. Like home. So why couldn’t it be? Why couldn’t he have this?
Derek folded his arms around Stiles and held him close.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles said again. Sorry for a lot. For so much. But especially for fighting with his husband. He might not have the right to call Derek that, but for one minute he wasn’t going to second-guess his gut. He should be allowed that much.
“Me too,” Derek murmured into his neck.
They stood like that for a long time, neither wanting to break away.
“So, was that our first fight?” Stiles asked, voice muffled by Derek’s shoulder.
“Nah,” Derek replied, rubbing his hand up and down the length of Stiles’ back. “We got into a pretty heated argument about cake icing once.”
Stiles barked out a laugh. “Cake icing?”
“Mmmm… we couldn’t agree what flavor went best with…” Derek trailed off.
“Went best with what?” Stiles prodded.
“I can’t tell you, you said I’m not allowed to talk about your penis anymore.”
Stiles guffawed and poked Derek in the side with one knuckle. “You prick.”
“Now who’s the one obsessed with dicks?”
Stiles snorted and relaxed against Derek. Derek chuckled and hugged Stiles closer.
Logically Stiles knew the hug had to come to an end, but he would have been fine if it didn’t. When Derek pulled back, Stiles dropped his arms and straightened to meet his gaze. Derek looked back him, his expression warm and open.
No… the problem wasn’t that he could love Derek.
The problem was he did love Derek.
“It’s never been that I don’t want you, you know,” Stiles confessed, because Derek deserved that much. “I just don’t know how I can have you without screwing everything up.”
Derek looked pained by that, and yet relieved, too. He offered a heartsick half-smile. “Maybe you’re just thinking too hard.”
“Or that.”
They went back into the house and got ready for bed, a quiet truce declared between them. Stiles headed back to his couch. As he was sorting out his blanket and pillow, he felt eyes on him and turned to see Derek standing in the open bedroom door watching him. He was in boxer-briefs and nothing else. Stiles got an eyeful of abs and pecs and so much beautiful skin.
It probably wasn’t an accident.
Derek Tempter Hale.
“Sleep with me?” Derek asked. And it really did sound like he meant just sleep. That he merely wanted to be next to Stiles.
Stiles winced. “I can’t,” was what he said. ‘I can’t have you,’ was what he thought.
And he had never resented any fact more than that one.
*********************
Things were better after that. Stiles wouldn’t say normal - because he was in an alternate universe in the future where he was married to Derek Hale, so what was normal? - but they were definitely better.
At least Derek knew Stiles had the hots for him. And Stiles knew that Derek knew. There was a lot of knowing of things going on, and it stopped them from having another fight about it.
But what it didn’t stop was the flirting.
Stiles wasn’t even sure if that was the right word, but now that Derek knew he wasn’t being rejected on the basis of lack of interest, he seemed to be intent on seeing just how close Stiles would let him get. And Stiles, masochist that he clearly was, liked it.
Liked it too much, truth be told, but enjoying it wasn’t wrong, right? Other Stiles wouldn’t hold that against him, would he? As long as he didn’t do anything about it?
Then again, this had only been going on two days, and already Stiles felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin… or climb Derek. That was probably a bad sign.
But it was so hard to care when Derek walked into the kitchen while Stiles was leaning over the island reading ShineGold and traced his hand down the length of Stiles’ back. Stiles barely stopped himself from arching into the touch. He got now why cats liked that shit so much.
“I emailed Lydia this morning,” Derek said as he dropped his hand off Stiles’ back and went over to the counter to grab a banana. There was that hint of an edge in his voice whenever he mentioned Lydia that Stiles still didn’t get, but for the moment he let it slide.
“Thank you.” Kira and Scott were giving him big goose eggs. The internet had failed him miserably. One could only do so much laundry, so Stiles had a lot of free hours when Derek was at work to research online. But when he searched ‘alternate universe’ or ‘alternate reality’, all he got was a lot of Star Trek and Dr. Who and weird-ass fanfiction that was less than useless to him.
He was counting on Lydia.
“Did you tell her ‘help me, Lydia Martin, you’re my only hope’?”
Derek froze right before taking a bite. “No… was I supposed to?”
Stiles dismissed the matter with a wave and turned back to the book. Mostly so he didn’t have to watch Derek eat a phallic-shaped piece of fruit.
So much for getting his head out of the gutter, though, because Derek came up behind Stiles and just fucking pressed into him as he leaned down to look over Stiles’ shoulder. Derek’s body heat draped over Stiles’ right side, buttock to back to shoulder, and fried several of Stiles’ synapses in the process.
“Ahem,” Stiles pointedly cleared his throat.
“Just looking to see where you’re at.”
“You so are not, liarwolf. Back off me, Hale,” Stiles nudged Derek with his shoulder to demand some breathing room.
Derek chuckled and took a half-step back. “Still think Sik’s the bad guy?”
“Gender aside, yes! Dude, she’s awful! Her whole species is.” Stiles put his bookmark in place, put down the book, and turned to eye Derek. “In fact, I’m rethinking this whole marriage now.”
Derek snorted and bit off another piece of banana.
“So can I ask you something?”
He was rewarded with a ‘go ahead’ gesture as Derek moved back to lean a hip against the counter.
“What’s he like? Your Stiles, I mean.”
Derek stopped chewing a moment, frowning. He looked constipated. “Why are you so sure you’re two different people?”
Yeah… Derek did always push the ‘lost memories’ angle, while Stiles was firmly in the ‘alternate universe’ camp.
“Instinct? I’m never going to have it this good.” He gestured first at Derek, then around to encompass the house in general (and by extension this life). “I know that. It’s just not something in the cards for me.” He wasn’t being dramatic, just honest. Stiles was not that lucky.
But Derek looked troubled. “Well… he’s just like you. Even that,” he gestured at Stiles. “You say things like that, and I think back to when you were eighteen when you would have said the same thing. When we were both… not in a good place.”
That comparison made Stiles acutely uncomfortable, though he didn’t really want to analyze why.
“Let me ask you… has anyone told you anything about your childhood or your family that doesn’t fit with your memories up to the point when you were seventeen?”
Stiles didn’t like where this was going. “No.”
“Then why can’t it just be that you lost your memories?”
Danger, Will Robinson. Danger! “Because it’s not.”
Derek lifted one eyebrow. “Then why do you have his scars? If you switched out with ‘my Stiles’, why would you have them?”
“It’s… it’s like a Quantum Leap thing! My consciousness jumped in here, not my body. I’m me on the inside and him on the outside.” Even though they were both Stiles inside and outside, but that got confusing.
“I think you’re reaching.” Derek tossed the banana peel in the trash. “I just can’t figure out why.”
Because if Stiles let himself believe that Derek was right, and then it turned out he wasn’t, Stiles would lose so much. Instead of losing a dream, he’d lose a husband. Clinging to the alternate world theory was pure self-defense on Stiles’ part.
“If you’re so sure,” Derek challenged, “why do you wear ‘his’ ring?”
Stiles looked down guiltily at the wedding ring on his left hand. “Well, I… uh… yeah, I don’t really have a good answer for that.”
They were both quiet for a moment before Derek ventured, “I get it, you know.”
“You do?”
Derek nodded. “I was there. I remember how much that nogitsune screwed you up.”
Stiles fidgeted. He wanted to deny that, to say it wasn’t about that, but even he wouldn’t believe that lie. Yes, he was miles of scar tissue psychologically. Wouldn’t anyone be if they’d gone through the hell Stiles had?
“But I was a mess back then, too. It was something we got through together.” He looked pensive, like he was just now seeing the problem in a new light. “I wish I had enough vacation days to go on a road trip with you.”
Yeah, Stiles did, too. That sounded nice. He wanted to live the pictures in the album. And selfishly, he wanted some memories with Derek that were just his.
“But I’m trying to save them up, so that’s not happening right now.” That distracted look on his face again.
“Derek?”
“Let me think about it for a while. I’m sure I can come up with something.” Then he visibly shook himself. “We’re supposed to be at Dad’s house in half an hour, right?”
It was a blatant deflection, not even skillful… then Stiles looked at the clock and realized he was right. Derek and John both had the same day off, and they’d arranged to get the family together for dinner and a movie.
But Derek could be both conniving and right at the same time.
********************
“Is Derek okay?”
Stiles looked over at his father beside him on the couch, then followed his eyes to Derek in the kitchen talking on his cell phone with his back to them. He’d missed probably half the movie because he had one call or another he had to make.
“We had a… kind of a weird conversation before we left the house.” And ever since, Derek had gone quiet. He’d been off in his own head during dinner. Though honestly, Stiles had been pretty preoccupied with their discussion, too. Derek had said some things that made Stiles think.
“Dad, what do you think is wrong with me?”
“Oh, where to start…”
Stiles threw a handful of popcorn at his face. John chuckled and picked it off his shirt front to pop into his mouth.
“I’m serious.”
John looked searchingly over at his son.
“What do you think my problem is? What is this?” Stiles made a gesture at his person.
The sheriff pursed his lips. “Amnesia?”
“Amnesia.”
“Or something like it. Because it’s not like there is one fixed point where you can’t remember anything before or after, which is what I always understood amnesia was. It’s just a seven-year gap. So I don’t know if that’s technically amnesia, but… if I had to call it something, then yeah, amnesia.”
“So you think it’s a memory thing.”
“What else would it be?”
Stiles scowled down at the popcorn bowl on his lap.
“Son? What is it?” John put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.
“So, hypothetically…”
“Oh boy.”
“What?” Stiles asked indignantly. “I haven’t even asked it yet!”
“I raised you, kid. I know what to expect when you pose a hypothetical.”
Stiles gave his father an insulted look, then he forged on. “Hypothetically… if you had a son…”
John put his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes. “Wait, wait… let me imagine that. Hmmm… okay, go ahead.”
Stiles tried not to smirk. “And he got sucked into an alternate universe, and he had a spouse there… would you… would you want him to go with it? I mean, like… would him doing anything with said alternate reality spouse count as anyone being unfaithful, do you think?”
John opened his eyes and dropped his hands into his lap to look over at Stiles. He wasn’t playing anymore. “Is that what you and Derek talked about?”
“More or less.”
For a moment, his father gave that some thought. “So I take it you think you’re some sort of Other Dimension Stiles?” By his tone, Stiles could tell his father didn’t agree with that theory, but at least he was playing Devil’s Advocate for the sake of the conversation. Stiles nodded. “And you… you’re worried because Other Dimension Stiles maybe has a thing for This Dimension Derek?” Again, a nod. John sat back with an intrigued, “Huh.”
“You think it’s dumb,” Stiles mumbled.
“No, I don’t. I don’t think it’s dumb at all. I just think it flies in the face of Occam’s razor to go with alternate anybody or dimension this and that. But,” John held up his hands in deference, “for the sake of argument, let’s say it is. Would I want my son, who has traveled to an alternate universe, to embrace having a husband when he got there?” John thought about it a moment. “Yes, I would.”
“You would?” Stiles asked, trying not to sound hopeful.
John nodded. “You want to know why? Because I can’t imagine any reality where I didn’t love you and didn’t want you to be happy. Does Other Dimension John love you?”
“Definitely.”
“I’m sure he and I agree, then. Don’t deny yourself something that can make you happy. Life’s too short.”
Claudia Stilinski always seemed to haunt that phrase whenever John or Stiles used it.
Stiles picked at a piece of popcorn distractedly.
“What if the situation was reversed?” John threw the scenario back his way. “Just hypothetically, if you were the one married to Derek and for some reason another Stiles was suddenly living your life… would you resent him for being with Derek?”
“I… I don’t know.” Hate himself for having a chance to be with Derek Hale and taking it? He didn’t think he’d resent it. At the very least, he would understand it. Hell, if the Stiles that took his place had the kind of luck he did, he might grant the poor bastard a ‘get out of jail free’ card.
Because Stiles didn’t hate himself. He didn’t think he deserved the shit life threw at him. It was just what he got and he had to make the best of it.
John asked, “Would you be mad at Derek if he wanted to be with him? I mean, another you?”
“No.” That one he felt sure of. Because bottom-line, Derek was loyal to his husband. And Derek was certain Stiles was his Stiles. There wasn’t a question of fidelity in Derek’s mind.
And Stiles would not be mad at Derek for loving him.
Which really brought it down to the Stiles who was supposed to be here. What would he think?
“What do you think? Would your son hate me if I…” Stiles glanced toward the kitchen where Derek was still on the phone.
“You are my son. And I never think it’s wrong for you to love your husband.”
Stiles had no idea how the movie ended, because he was too wrapped up in his own head. The whirlwind of what ifs and what nows.
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