you can't go home again (teen wolf, derek/stiles)
you can't go home again
one shot
It’d been six years since Stiles had been in Beacon Hills. He’d left when he was 18 for college and hadn’t returned since. And now he was coming home now to bury his father next to his mother.
derek/stiles. ♢ teen wolf. ♢ pg-13. ♢ one shot.
if i owned them, my fanfics would actually be episodes.
you can't go home again
prompt ♢ "stiles returns home different."
It’d been six years since Stiles had been in Beacon Hills. He’d left when he was 18 for college and hadn’t returned since. And now he was coming home now to bury his father next to his mother. The Sheriff had been let in on the werewolf secret in the town and it had cost him his life. He remembered being a senior at college and having his father call to rant and rave about the lies, the secrets. He wasn’t at all surprised when the lawman showed up the next day just to whack him upside the head and then hug him until his body tingled from the pressure.
But now he was surrounded by people crying, offering him their deepest condolences. Scott had showed up with Allison by his side, and both had swept him up in a hug that he couldn’t even feel. All he felt was empty knowing that he had no more family. He’d abandoned the pack for his own betterment and he highly doubted that Derek would be willing to let him back into it with open arms, not after how he’d left. He’d all but renounced the werewolves, Scott included, in order to be able to leave for school. His father had worked hard to pay for his college and he wasn’t going to spit on that. Plus, he wanted to go to school where his mother had, where she and his father had met, to carry on the spirit. His father had been proud and insisted that his mother would’ve been too.
Jackson, Lydia and Danny eventually showed up together as well, Lydia offering her own stunted apologies, Jackson stiffly echoing. Danny was the only one to actually show anything, his eyes shimmering as he went into a long speech about how amazing his father was, how he’d protected them, saved them.
Stiles tried hard not to comment about how they obviously hadn’t repaid the favor in kind to the Sheriff, or they wouldn’t be at his wake.
He was busy cleaning up after the entire department, half the town, and a pack of wolves three hours later, when he last person he wanted - or expected - to see seemed to materialize in the living room within the span of him taking a bag into the kitchen and returning.
“Get out.” Stiles said, his tone hollow as he stuffed paper plates and plastic silverware into the garbage bag.
“I...”
“If you say you’re sorry, I’ll call Chris Argent and have him on your ass in three point six minutes.” Stiles interrupted Derek angrily, fist tightening around the trash bag until he felt his blunt nails biting into his palm.
Derek’s fists clenched as well, his jaw tightening and his eyes flashing red as he tried to push down his anger at the threat. “I’ll let that one slide given your circumstances. But don’t mistake that for a recurring kindness.”
“I don’t expect any sort of kindness from you. I expect an abrasive asshole who’s all bluster and BS. You were for two years before I left, I don’t expect it to have changed in the last six.” Stiles had barely finished speaking before he was pressed up against the wall, a forearm pressed solidly against his throat.
“You think some time away from home and a college degree gives you the right to talk to me like that without consequence? Congratulations on your balls finally dropping, but don’t think for one second that that’s the case.” Derek threatened through gritted teeth, his eyes darting along Stiles’ face as the red faded.
“From what I remember in that last year, you liked it when I talked back to you. You got off on it.” Stiles challenged, daring Derek to say anything different about the late nights after pack meetings, ones Stiles probably shouldn’t have been at seeing as he wasn’t pack.
Derek backed off with a growl, his eyes narrowing as he tried to relax his tense body. He couldn’t be near Stiles without his head and his wolf warring on what the best way to deal with the kid was. His head wanted to tear off Stiles’ while his wolf wanted to ravage him in a completely different way. It was his undoing. “Contrary to what you believe, some things have changed. Things like that.”
But both of them knew in that moment that Derek hadn’t just shown up to give condolences or to apologize for not protecting Stiles’ father like he should’ve. They both knew that Derek was there because he’d missed Stiles (not that he’d ever admit it aloud or anything) and Stiles knew he wasn’t kicking Derek out because he needed someone. Someone who knew how to comfort Stiles, to make him forget for a little while. It wouldn’t be loving or sweet or even pretty. But it’d be enough.
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I wrote this for a prompt on my writing Tumblr where I accept prompts for drabbles. I basically wrote it without any really thought going into it as I did it, so it's probably a bit all over the map and weird. And I had to stop it abruptly or it would've kept on going.
For those waiting for the side/middle story of mine between Another Night's Dawn and A Warm Gun, yeah, pretty much not happening right now. I'll probably write a couple of one-shots inside the eightish months between the two stories, but life kind of prevented me from getting that done. As is, I'm pretty stuck on writing chapter four of A Warm Gun (despite having chapter notes of what I want/the progression of the plot up until chapter 13) and I'm trying to psych myself up into getting myself a beta. Sorry for those waiting!
Hope you enjoy this one and are having a good day!
- Ashley