DEREK/STILES AND DYLAN/TYLER H POST!

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Previous prompting posts: round one, round one favorites, round two, round two recs and favorites, round three, spoilery prompt post, the other pairings post, and the gen and pack fic post.

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FILL: Time For Mourning [18/?]

[ziusura]

“Look,” Stiles snarled, whipping his head around. Derek startled back a little, like he wasn’t expecting it. “My mom died of cancer, remember that? Yeah, I know what it freaking feels like when someone knows they’re going to die. I watched her get weaker and weaker; lose her strength and her life. Do you know how bad it wrecked me to watch her like that? Do you know what it did to my dad? I refuse to do that to Scott. Or anyone. I would’ve been a lot happier I think if she just died. But watching her die? That was too much. You just imagine watching your family burn in that fire for months. Sometimes you think, hey, the firemen are here and the fire looks like it’s under control. But it isn’t and it doesn’t ever get under control. It just burns and burns and your loved one dies. No. I won’t do it.”

Derek’s claws were out and he looked furious, but Stiles wasn’t afraid. He was dead and he couldn’t die anymore than he already was. He wanted Derek to see and he wouldn’t. Stiles was convinced he refused to, because Derek was alpha and Derek knew best. Fuck Scott and Stiles and anyone else.

“You’re really selfish, you know that? You aren’t the only one involved in this, Stiles.”

“Oh, well you sure make me feel like a part of the team then, Derek, because so far all I know is that I’m dead and you won’t include me.”

“And what if I did, Stiles? What if there’s a reason I don’t? We don’t know why you’re here. For all I know it’s not actually you and the moment I tell you something it’ll all blow up in my face.”

“You already said I smell like me so why wouldn’t it be me?” Stiles’ cried out. The argument was stupid. Derek was stupid. Why couldn’t he understand and just leave Stiles alone about it? Why couldn’t he just include him? He was dead not dumb or dangerous.

“You smell like nothing, Stiles. Like absolutely nothing.”

Derek stood, knuckles white on his clenched hands plastered to his sides. His body language screamed that the conversation was done and Stiles did nothing to continue it. He smelled like nothing. Stiles wasn’t alive and he was nothing. Dust to dust and ash to ash.

Stiles watched Derek’s back as he stormed out of the room and outside into the forest. The book Derek left behind was just a book of poems and Stiles doesn’t know why he expected what he did.