And The Dead Follow ~ Part 3
Ao3
~ Derek’s POV ~
You can learn a lot about someone in two weeks. Two weeks spent only with one person, walking through a dead world, the two of you each other’s only company. But Derek was finding that you could be alone with someone for two weeks and not learn much at all.
Stiles liked to talk. He’d talk and talk and talk all day, always keeping his voice down. Every now and then slipping. When he slipped, he went silent. But only for a time.
Derek had been listening to him talk for two weeks and still felt like he didn’t actually know much. About a week in, Derek realized that this was, in fact, a purposeful thing. Stiles could talk and talk about anything and everything. Everything but himself. His past.
Truth be told Derek didn’t mind much. Stiles’ talking after so much silence was a constant reminder that he wasn’t alone. Stiles had pointed out that Derek didn’t say much himself, multiple times. But Stiles didn’t seem to mind that much either.
There was something about this kid. Something about the way he carried himself, so sure but ultimately so clumsy. His legs stumbling over things like a deer just learning to walk. But it was as if he’d learned to use that to his advantage. He learned to move the way he did and still remain quiet. He could flail and fall and make only the bare minimum amount of noise. Derek had never met such a quiet human. But there something else.
His bat.
Something about that silver bat made Derek uneasy. Something about the way it shimmered in the sun. But more how it shimmered at night. Like it was soaking up the moonlight and casting it out again, as if the bat itself was creating the light. Derek was sure he was missing something. Sure that this something was probably completely obvious. But anytime he got near it, Stiles moved it away. He did so subtly, gently. Like he had just decided to move it in that moment. Derek was sure that if he could just get his hands on it, or even smell it, he could figure it out. But all he could smell so far was blood. The coppery smell filled his nose whenever he tried to smell anything else so he gave up. But tried to keep the bat in view at all times.
Stiles made that easy for him. He was constantly letting Derek walk a few paces behind him. He’d mentioned something about Derek having his back. His voice flippant, that sly smile reaching his eyes as he turned away from Derek. Derek was glad. It made him feel useful. Even if Stiles was just joking an excuse.
~***~
Derek walked behind Stiles, his mind not on the bat, but on the sky. The moon had been growing every night. Tomorrow was the full moon and Derek was more worried than he had been since he was kid. He’d been alone since this all started. The moon felt stronger now. Like it was beating down on him and him alone. Like it was challenging his wolf to come out and play. Derek didn’t like to think about his wolf playing with Stiles. Or what Stiles would do if he knew. That Derek wasn’t a man. At least not completely. And least of all tomorrow night.
He remembered how afraid people had been at the end of it all. When the wolves couldn’t hide anymore. There weren’t enough people left to blend in. People figured it out quick once the dead began coming back to life. It was like a veil lifted. If the dead could walk, then all sorts of other things could be hiding in the dark. Everything changed. The humans’ eyes were opened and they couldn’t be closed. The few wolves Derek knew disappeared fast. And Derek? Derek just ran. He ran and ran and ran. Right into Stiles.
And now he had to decide if he needed to start running again. Or if he could stay with this odd human. This boy who kept a bloody silver bat on his back and who often smelled sad when he smiled.
~ Stiles’ POV ~
Stiles had been thinking about the moon a lot. And what it meant for the man he was sharing his days with. It was affecting the wolf more the he seemed to realize. Stiles had woken in the night to see Derek curled in on himself, his claws digging into his own arms as he struggled with whatever was going on in his head. Stiles wasn’t exactly sure how to bring it up. He knew the guy thought he didn’t know. Had seen him trying to hide things several times. But if helping Scott with his wolf had taught him anything, it had taught him to see things that wolves didn’t want him to see. His father had informed him all his life of just how annoyingly perceptive he was. Stiles smiled at the memory and made a hasty decision.
“Let’s stop for lunch man I’m starving.” Stiles said, walking a few more paces and then tossing his pack on the ground, his bat ringing when it struck a rock. Stiles kicked his things to the side gently and threw himself on the ground. Derek sat down gently across from him. Stiles was happy to see that he’d come a bit closer still today. He been sitting so far from him at first, Stiles had felt like he had to yell to be heard. Even though he knew Derek could hear him perfectly well.
He handed Derek some of the Jerky he’d had stashed in the bottom of his bag and they passed Stiles’ water bottle back and forth. They’d been looking for more supplies for Derek, but hadn’t come across any good scavenging yet.
“Are you gonna be okay tomorrow night?” Stiles asked, blunt as always. He watched the man freeze. His arm frozen in the air as he’d been handing Stiles back his bottle. He said nothing. Just stared at Stiles. Stiles reached out slowly, his fingers brushing against Derek’s, making him flinch. Stiles lifted his other hand, palm out, in a calming gesture, as he took the bottle slowly and set it down.
“Maybe I should clear the air?” Stiles raised his eyebrows. He watched Derek’s throat move as he swallowed hard, and then watched him nod. Stiles nodded back.
“Okay. I know you’re a wolf. And I’m not gonna hurt you. But I need to know if you’re gonna hurt me. Only when the moon is full, I mean. I know you won’t hurt me when you’re in your right mind. You’ve proven that. But the moon, it can really fuck things up.” Stiles widened his eyes for emphasis, Derek nodded again, his eyes wide, he looked years younger.
“Yeah. So I need to know. Are you gonna be okay tomorrow night? Or do we need to make a plan?” Stiles took another bite and chewed slowly, not staring back at Derek. He didn’t want to intimidate him. He wanted him to feel safe. He deserved that much at least.
“How did you-“ Derek’s voice cut off and he coughed.
“Your eyes were glowing when I pulled you out of the trap dude. Your claws were out too. There have been… other things. But those were the dead giveaways.” He smiled sadly and shrugged.
“The whole time? You’ve known the whole time?” Derek sounded winded, like he’d just run a mile. Or farther. Probably farther, Stiles had run miles with him and never heard him this winded.
“Yeah. I didn’t know how to tell you. And I didn’t know if you’d trust me if I just came out and started talking about you being a werewolf. And I wanted you to trust me. I think I needed you to.” Stiles said, his brow furrowed. He hadn’t meant to say that much but it was all on the table now.
Derek was silent for a long time. Stiles stared at the ground.
“I trust you.” Derek said, well, whispered. Stiles barley heard him, but he did. And his body relaxed at the words, letting go of a tension he’d been trying not to show. He looked up and Derek was staring at the ground now.
“Good. Derek look at me.” Derek shook his head. Stiles sighed.
“Derek, please?” Derek didn’t move. Stiles nodded to himself.
“That’s okay. Just listen then. Cuz I need you to hear me. Okay? I need you to really hear me.” He took a deep breath, Derek was still staring at the ground but Stiles could tell he was listening hard.
“I trust you too.” Stiles said. Derek’s eyes moved up finally, he was looking at Stiles like he wasn’t sure what to make of the man in front of him. Stiles snorted.
“Yeah. I get that look a lot. Or… I used to, anyway.” He shrugged, took a bite, and looked away again. He was watching the leaves sway in the breeze, the sun shining down through them hurting his eyes a bit, but he couldn’t look away. He could feel Derek looking at him and he didn’t want to look at that either.
“How do you know about werewolves?”
There it was. The questions Stiles didn’t want to answer. But knew that he had to. The question he’d really been avoiding all along. Because that question led to other questions. He sighed again and looked into is lap.
“Derek…”
“Please?”
Stiles looked up at the sound of his voice. He looked wrecked. And confused. And Stiles knew he owed him at least this.
“My best friend was a werewolf. He got bit by an alpha our freshman year of high school. We went through a lot of shit after that. Hunters. Druids. Banshees, though she was on our side. Just a bunch of supernatural shit.” He picked up a stick and broke it into little pieces.
“Ya know how people say high school is supposed to be the greatest years of your life? Well I always thought that was bullshit. And then I was actually in high school and I was right. High school fucking sucked.” He picked up the little stick pieces and tossed them into the trees to the right.
“Hunters?” Derek asked, he looked…worried, Stiles was pretty sure that’s what that look meant. Stiles took a deep breath, and nodded, his body tense. That old ache in his shoulder pulsing. He rubbed at his shoulder, pressing his fingers into the ache, harder than he should, making it worse probably. The pain kept him calm.
“Yeah. Hunters. There were a lot of them in our town apparently. Or maybe they just congregated there after shit went to hell. But they were there. Before the end, and after. They were always fucking there.” Stiles sighed and rubbed his hand across his mouth, hung his head low, and waited for the question he knew Derek was gonna ask next.
“What was their name?” his voice was hollow. Stiles closed his eyes, his past beating against his eyelids as the sun shown through them, and shook his head. He stood up quickly and shoved his things back in his bag.
“It doesn’t matter.” He threw the pack over his shoulder, grimacing a little, and tried to walk away. Derek was on his feet before Stiles could blink, his hand wrapped around Stiles’ arm, holding him back.
“It does. What was their name?” he sounded frantic now.
“Argent!” Stiles screamed. His chest was tight and he felt Derek’s hand fall away from him.
“Their name was Argent.” He watched Derek fall apart and then force himself back together in the span of a few seconds. Stiles’ hands were shaking. He couldn’t make them stop. Never could.
“What happened?” Derek’s mouth barely moved.
“What do you think happened?” Stiles asked, not able to keep the venom out of his voice.
“Same thing that always happens when there’s Argent’s around.” Stiles huffed and took a few steps before turning on his heel and looked at Derek. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes.
“Everyone died.” He said, lifting and dropping his hands, palms out. He smiled as the tears fell and turned and walked into the trees.
He walked for a long time. No sound at all behind him. He knew he could have handled that better. But he hadn’t talked about it. To anyone. Well, he’d talked about it with one person. And they’d betrayed him in the end, so he wasn’t exactly a stable person, so sue him. He was lost in his head when he heard the footsteps behind him and stopped.
He waited for Derek to catch up and started walking again only to be stopped by Derek’s hand on his shoulder. He looked at Derek’s hand and then moved his eyes up to his face, his bight eyes shining through all the dark hair covering his face.
“I have one more question, and then I won’t ask anymore about it.” Stiles swallowed hard. He was scared. He didn’t know what Derek was going to ask. And he wasn’t afraid of Derek. But he knew what the Argents had done to the Hale family. He’d done his research. And so he was scared. Scared that whatever Derek asked, he wouldn’t be able to give him the answer that he needed.
He nodded.
“Kate Argent. Was she there?” his voice shaking just as hard as his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles felt the tension and fear leave him at once. He nodded slowly. Derek didn’t ask. Not out loud. His eyes widened. His hand clenched tighter on Stiles shoulder.
“She’s dead.” Was all he said. At first. Derek just stared at him, eyes wide. Like he couldn’t believe it. And Stiles didn’t blame him. She’d taken everything from Derek. Stiles didn’t blame him for needing more. In that respect Derek was lucky. Because Stiles had more to give.
“I killed her.” His voice was quiet, he’d never told anyone this. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t killed other people, he had. But this one. This one was the worst. Because he could have let her live. He didn’t have to kill her. But he had. Because he wanted to. No more complicated. No more simple. He’d been full of rage, and he’d killed her.
Stiles reached behind him, pulled his bat out slowly and let it rest across his palms gently in front of Derek.
“Allison Argent made me this. She was one of the good ones. Her dad too, Chris. She made me this, at the end, because she said she knew I’d make it, and that she wanted me to. To make it. So she gave me a little help. I don’t let you touch it because it’s silver. And it’s engraved with wolfsbane and mistletoe. That’s why it shines like it does. She didn’t make it so I could hurt innocent creatures. She made it so I would be safe against the ones who aren’t so innocent.” Stiles’ voice was shaking, the bat nearly vibrating in his hands. Derek stared down at it.
“I watched Kate and Gerard Argent and all their little lackies… kill, all of my friends. One. By one. They moved through our town like a plague. Killing everyone. Anyone who got in their way. Human. Werewolf. They didn’t care anymore. They took them all. I only made it because my dad was the Sheriff. He locked me up. But I’ve always been good at picking locks.” He smiled and wiped at his face.
“They left me alive. Kate seemed to think it was funny. Leaving me there. Surrounded by the dead. And undead.” Stiles sniffed hard. His chest felt like someone was standing on it.
“Long story short, I caught up with her later. She was by herself. Stayed behind to pick off the stragglers in the town they’d just decimated no doubt. All I had to do was talk to her. I said one word and she was mine. She just needed to know I was there. I lured her into a trap. And I killed her.” He looked up at Derek. Looked at him hard. He slid his bat back into his pack and moved his hands to the sides of Derek’s neck.
“I cornered her. I wounded her. And then I beat her to death with the bat that her niece made for me. I hit her over and over until my arms were burning and then I hit her some more. Kate Argent is dead Derek. I made fucking sure of it.” Stiles pressed his hands harder against Derek and then let him go. He nodded, he wasn’t sure if he was nodding at Derek, or if he was nodding at himself. It didn’t matter. Not really. He bit his lip and stepped past Derek. He held his breath, waiting for Derek to stop him again. Waiting to hear Derek running the other way.
He felt nothing. And heard nothing. And then Derek was following him. The leaves crunching beneath their feet as they walked further away from their past. Stiles didn’t know if Derek was trying to escape his past as much as Stiles was. But it didn’t matter. Derek was with him now. And if he hadn’t run from what he’d done to Kate Argent, he wouldn’t run at all. They walked as the sun fell behind the trees. And then walked a little longer. Stiles’ eyes once again wondering to the sky, beside him, Derek’s did the same.
They walked like that for a long time. Just two living things, wandering through a dead world, looking at the moon.
