Derek’s in the shower when he misses the call. It’s rare that his phone actually rings, and it’s usually a telemarketer or the end of the world on the other end so it’s a pretty unpleasant experience either way.
He jumps out of the shower, shampoo still in his hair, and hurries to grab his cell off his nightstand, but it’s already finished ringing by the time he grabs it.
It’s an unknown number so Derek assumes it’s a scam warning him his car warranty is expiring. He waits to see if it calls back, but it doesn’t so he gets back in the shower.
It’s only when he’s ready to get into bed that he realizes there’s a four minute voicemail message on his phone. It feels too long to be a telemarketer so letting curiosity get the best of him, he hits play. Despite the number being unknown, he recognizes the voice immediately, even if it’s slurred by far too much alcohol.
“Yoooooooooo. Yo, Derek. It’s me. You know who me is, right? I dropped my phone in the toilet at this party, so my roommate is letting me borrow his. He’s a cool dude. Not like, you cool, no one else is that cool. Like, leather jackets should be banned for everyone else in the world but you. You should have a monopoly on them. Is monopoly the right word?”
Derek rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the small smile on his lips at the sound of Stiles’s inebriated voice. There’s a muffled sea of voices far in the background, making it seem likely that Stiles had just shut himself in a bedroom or bathroom at a party to call Derek. He was drunk, and he called Derek. It takes a moment for him to process that.
Derek tries not to read too much into it. He could have called everyone else in the world, including Deaton and Chris Argent, before resorting to him.
“You’re probably busy, like, eating Bambi or practicing your scowl in the mirror – it’s a good thing you’re a werewolf and not a vampire – and that’s why you’re not answering. I get it,” Stiles continues on the voicemail. “Sometimes I’ll be in my criminal justice class and catch myself wondering what you’re doing. Is that weird? It might be weird.”
It might be weird but sometimes Derek catches himself doing the same thing.
“I just hope you aren’t bleeding out somewhere because that would make me sad. Really sad. Please don’t be dying.” Stiles’s voice chokes up, apparently having worked himself up at just the thought of Derek dying. That was certainly a change from when they had first met. Not that Derek blamed him. Derek had been…off-putting, to say the least, in the beginning.
Stiles starts rambling about his classes and missing Beacon Hills, something Stiles never thought he would say when he finally got away from the constant near death experiences.
Derek’s heart aches, and he realizes how much he has missed Stiles and the rest of the pack. Sure, Scott was still around, and Malia, but it wasn’t the same as the whole group. Lydia and Stiles had both went off to bigger, better things. Even Peter, pest that he was, had left to travel. But Derek couldn’t leave. Not again. This was Hale territory, and he had made a vow to himself that he wouldn’t run any longer. There should always be a Hale in Beacon Hills.
Derek is drawn out of his thoughts by a particularly loud yawn from Stiles in the voicemail. “Okay, I think I’m gonna head out now. Don’t worry, my roommate is our group designated driver, and I’ll be safe.”
It goes quiet and Derek wonders for a moment if Stiles fell asleep/passed out right then and there, but then his voice returns, softer than before. “I wish you had answered. I had some things I wanted to say to you. Things I’m finally ready to say.” Stiles sighs. “I miss you, Der. I wish you were here. Especially to nurse me back to health tomorrow morning when I wake up with a massive hangover. I know you’d pretend to be all gruff about it, but I think you’d be secretly great at taking care of people. You’ve always taken care of us.”
The voicemail finally comes to an end.
Stiles is right. He wakes up with the worst hangover of his life, but it’s also the best day of his life when he opens his door to find Derek Hale, having driven all night, there with a greasy breakfast and big cup of coffee. He has very little recollection of what he said when he called Derek, but he owes a debt of gratitude to Jack Daniels.
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