the smell of pine in the winter time by jadore_hale (1/1 | 2,948 | Teen)
“I call bullshit,” Stiles announced then turned to Derek skeptically. “How can you be afraid of spiders? You lived in your old burned down home. You had no roof! All kind of bugs must have been crawling on you when you were asleep!”
“I bought expensive repellent to keep them away.”
“But what about when you lived in the underground train car?”
“Again, no spiders!”
“But you’re a werewolf! All you do is run around in the woods! Basically, spider territory!”
“Hey, do I question you about your irrational fear of yogurt?”
------------
Stiles had no idea Derek had any huge fears until an itsy bitsy spider crawled out from under their Christmas tree and Derek loses his shit.
“We better get stiles going back to his apartment after the FBI class, opening the door and shouting for fucks sake Derek I’m not harbouring your fugitive ass again as Derek walks around the corner eating a bowl of cereal like what?”
“I can explain!”
Stiles took a deep calming breath as he calmly marched into his apartment and calmly slammed the door shut behind him, causing the door jamb to rattle.
“Stiles—” Derek tried again, attempting to catch hold of Stiles’ forearm as he stormed past him with a determined expression on his face.
All of the windows in Stiles’ tiny, cramped studio apartment were open, allowing much needed light and air to filter through the room. However, that all died when Stiles hastily snapped them shut and drew the curtains closed with a loud whoosh. Stiles swung past Derek again to secure every lock on his front door, taking every precaution possible to make sure they couldn’t be overheard, even though the FBI could easily breach the door if they wanted to.
He crossed his arms over his chest and turned to glare at a shirtless, guilty-looking Derek. If he wasn’t so furious, Stiles might’ve stopped to appreciate Derek’s shirtless-ness and how adorable he looked standing in his pajama bottoms, sleep-rumpled and bleary, eating a bowl of cereal. But he’d already seen enough shirtless Derek for one day from that video the FBI had caught of him running in the woods.
“What the fuck, dude!” Stiles hissed, trying to keep his voice low. “When you showed up here last night, you couldn’t have given me a heads up that you were on the run? Instead, I had to find out on the first day of my internship with the fucking FBI!”
Derek had the audacity to roll his eyes. “None of this makes sense to me either, Stiles. I know I should’ve told you, but I don’t even know what to say or where to begin. What was I gonna do? Knock on your door and say, ‘Long time no see. I’m wanted for mass murder’?”
It was pissing Stiles off just how nonchalant Derek was being about this. Last night, he’d been so excited to have Derek Hale walk back into his life. Now, he was embittered for having been misled. Especially after they’d spent the whole night talking and catching up which resulted in Stiles struggling to get himself out of bed on time for his internship the next morning.
Seeing that Derek was about to take another bite of his cereal, Stiles decided to swoop in vindictively before he could.
“Hey! I was eating that!”
“Fugitives on the run don’t get to eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch!”
Stiles was in the foulest mood while pouring the cereal down the drain in the kitchen sink. Because not only had Derek omitted the truth about the reason for his unannounced visit, but he was also making Stiles waste a whole bowl of cereal on a college budget!
“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Derek huffed and held his arms up in surrender. “Really, I am. Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do was get you involved. I know you’re putting your ass on the line for me, especially with your current career choice as a FED.”
Stiles didn’t miss the way Derek’s nose wrinkled at the word FED, and he lifted an eyebrow in question.
“What?” Derek shrugged. “I’ve had a bad relationship with the police for most of my life! Of course, I’m not going to like cops of any kind!”
It was a good reason. Stiles wasn’t about to argue with that. Not after he’d gotten Derek arrested and accused him of killing his own sister.
“Please don’t be mad, Stiles,” Derek pleaded with puppy-dog eyes. “If you’d just give me a chance to explain the situation as best as I can, I will. This all started when I—”
“Don’t!” Stiles exclaimed and rushed to cover Derek’s mouth with his hands. He couldn’t help but blush at the feeling of Derek’s soft lips under his palm and the burn of his scratchy, course stubble. He whispered, “It’s better for you if you don’t tell me anything right now. I don’t want to hear anything I can’t unhear, okay?”
The room remained silent when Stiles dropped his hand again. However, it was an awkward silence. Stiles chose to ignore it and walked towards his dresser, stumbling in the dim light. He tugged his constricting tie loose, unfastened his cuffs, and slid off his crisp, white dress shirt. The first day of his internship had been exciting but he was ready to slip into more comfortable clothes. He was feeling more at ease in his softest t-shirt and sweats and turned back to Derek, only to see him gazing at him with hard, assessing eyes. Yeah, the last thing he was feeling now was comfy.
He shifted nervously, chewing at his bottom lip and waiting restlessly for Derek to speak. Although, Stiles definitely didn’t expect what Derek said next.
“You don’t believe me.”
“What?!” Stiles’ eyes widened, not understanding how Derek was making these connections.
“You don’t believe me! You really think I could…that I would…” His face contorted as he fought to get the words out, glaring at Stiles with so much scorn. Like he actually believed Stiles would betray him like that. “I really thought you of all people would…Never mind. This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Wait! Wait a second!” Stiles dashed over to Derek quickly, refusing to let Derek go anywhere thinking such ridiculous things. Derek was stubborn of course, turning his head and not wanting to look at Stiles, so Stiles gripped his chin and forced him to make eye contact. “I know you, Derek. Of course, I think you’re innocent.”
Even though he wanted Derek to know that he was being earnest, it still irritated him that Derek had to listen to his heartbeat before his feathers could unruffle and his buttcheeks could unclench.
“I’m not mad at you” Stiles reiterated. “I’m mad for you!”
Stiles knew there was no way to explain why he was angry without revealing his super embarrassing unreciprocated crush on Derek. A crush he thought had ended long ago but still lingered despite having not seen Derek in years. Finding Derek outside his door last night had rekindled all sorts of emotions that Stiles had locked away. All that pinning and hope sprung forth, as did his fanciful thoughts of him and Derek actually having a romantic future. But he couldn’t think about any of that now. Not when they had this looming over them.
“I’m mad that this is happening to you again. I’m mad because you don’t deserve this. I’m so tired of this sick joke the universe keeps playing on you where you’re not allowed to be happy!”
By this point, Stiles was doing a good job of working himself, so much so that he started pacing a hole in the floor without realizing it.
“You leaving was supposed to be the end of this for you! You were supposed to be happy! That’s the whole reason I never called you when you were gone even though I missed you so much— like way more than I thought would’ve. I didn’t want to see you dragged into this bullshit again. I wanted better for you!”
Stiles was heaving after his rant. He was mortified. Absolutely mortified. He knew he’d said too much and could barely lift his eyes from the ground, not able to withstand seeing any hints of rejection from Derek’s expression. Anyone could see that Stiles’ concern for Derek was much more than a display of friendship, but one of love. Still, Stiles would do his best to downplay it by masking it with humor.
“Besides, I wouldn’t be standing here if you were actually a mass murderer,” Stiles joked, swallowing as much of his humiliation down as possible. “If you did have a hit list, my name would probably be at the top.”
“Why?”
Stiles looked up at Derek and smirked. “Because I drive you crazy.”
“That is very true,” Derek snorted then eyed Stiles with a look that was hard to decipher. “Although, there is another thing keeping you safe.”
“What?”
“The fact that I’m in love with you.”
Hearing those words come from Derek felt like a punch in the gut. Stiles could almost imagine himself stumbling back, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and the ringing in his ears. In their world, there’d been nothing but pain and suffering, that for Stiles, this didn’t feel any different. It was violent; the onslaught of emotion he held for Derek. Very reminiscent of all they’d been through together. And Stiles had no doubt that what Derek was telling him now was the truth.
“Can I eat my fucking breakfast now?” Derek returned to the kitchen cupboards and got out the box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. “I was really enjoying that cereal before you barged in here and confiscated it,” he muttered under his breath, “Typical FED.”
Thankfully, Derek stopped talking shit once Stiles’ arms wrapped around his torso and hugged him from behind. Stiles wasn’t quite sure how they’d work out with Derek hating his job so much. He thunked his head against Derek’s shoulder playfully then rested it there, releasing a weighed down sigh.
“I love you too,” he sighed again, “And I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to clear your name.”
“I know,” Derek chuckled, lifting a hand to ruffle Stiles’ hair. “That’s exactly the reason I came.”
Stiles only squeezed him tighter, not wanting to ever let go. He knew that what they were doing was breaking the law, but he also knew that he could never let anything bad happen to Derek. So, he guessed the only thing left to do now was figure out who was Bonnie and who was Clyde.
because @mad-madam-m posted domestic prompts and #14 just spoke to me.
The footage is shaky, veering wildly between a pile of unopened moving boxes and Derek’s unamused face.
“Don’t you dare,” Derek warns. The camera zooms out from his glare to show that he’s shirtless and framed by the doorway of a bare kitchen. His arms are crossed and there’s a barely visible scrap of orange and blue cloth peeking out from under his arm. The rest of it is clenched in his fist.
“I won’t laugh, I swear.” Stiles’ voice, coming from somewhere off camera. He doesn’t sound convincing. When Derek just glares: “I’m serious. Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a boy scout,” Derek mutters, but it’s mild, and he’s already pulling on the shirt.
And the shirt. Well.
On camera, Derek glares, lifts both hands up in a gesture that says, See?
Stiles lasts for only two seconds before cracking up. “Oh my god. Der. It’s so much worse than I remember.”
The shirt would have been small on Derek a few years ago. Now, it’s just ridiculous. It rides up on the bottom, exposing a good inch of stomach. The buttons at the neckline gap. More than one looks ready to pop off under the slightest stress. By the way Derek tries and fails three times in a row to cross his arms in front of his chest, it’s obviously a strain just to move in it.
The fact that the shirt’s ugly as hell doesn’t help.
The footage shakes again, then focuses on a tile floor as Stiles howls off screen. “You look like the hulk! Even your muscles have muscles.”
Derek grumbles something unintelligible. Then, to the tune of more laughter, there’s a loud rip.
“Oh for the love of– I can’t– Stiles. Help me get this thing off.”
“Oh I’ll help you get it off, buddy. Don’t you– hey!”
There’s a loud squawk and clatter as the camera falls to the floor. The last thing to be seen is an upside-down image of Derek stalking down the hall, Stiles draped inelegantly over his shoulder. Their laughter follows them, fading out until there’s nothing left but the hum of a new fridge.
Don’t Have Sex Because You Will Get Pregnant...And Die
Jock!Derek/Nerd! Stiles Secret Relationship AU:
Don’t Have Sex Because You Will Get Pregnant...And Die by jadore_hale (1/1 | 8,258 | Teen)
“I’m your best friend! Why wouldn’t you tell me that you’re planning on losing your virginity this Friday?”
Stiles choked. No, he actually choked. A Cheeto went down the wrong pipe, lodging itself in his throat, and he pounded on his chest, coughing and hacking to get it out. Because death by artificially powdered orange stick? No, sir. Not today.
“What the hell, Scott,” Stiles wheezed, inhaling and exhaling sharply. “Where in ‘watching Netflix and ordering pizza’ did you get that I’m losing my virginity?”
“How do you still not get Netflix and Chill?!” Scott slapped a palm over his face then thumped his head down onto the desk.
you’ve got me on pins and needles by jadore_hale (1/1 | 17,618k | Teen)
“At any rate, I’m not here to steal from you. One of the biggest potentially most important moments in my life is coming up and I find myself in need of a custom tux.”
“A tuxedo?” Derek halted, then tried not to laugh as he gave the kid a good look up and down. “Biggest potentially most important moment of your life?”
Derek picked up the broom and started sweeping, shaking his head. “If you need something for your little costume party, kid, rent something from party city.”
Stiles Stilinski needs THE perfect suit and Derek Hale is just the tailor to make it for him. Only Derek doesn’t exactly know that Stiles is kind of a famous movie star…
@demisexualhale sorry you had a rough time today. have this au that i saw you talking about after i creeped on your blog. it’s... uh. probably not what anyone involved thought it would be. but i hope you like it?
anyway.
sterek. 2k. spy au. warnings: i know nothing about spies, secret criminal organizations, or technology in general. just roll with it.
“I’ll pay you twenty bucks to hum the Mission Impossible theme while I do this,” Stiles muttered, fishing an exacto knife out of his tool belt. He fit it under the very edge of the ID scanner and, with a flick of his wrist, popped it off like a dream.
“You could pay me twenty thousand and I still wouldn’t do it.”
“Spoilsport.” Gently pulling all the wires out into the open was the easy part; it was identifying the right one to snip that was going to be the tricky part. Would it kill all organized crime syndicates to stick to one universal standard?
“Try the yellow wire. Third from the left.”
“Try?” Stiles repeated under his breath. “We’ve been planning this job for weeks and you want me to go in with ‘try’?”
He could practically hear the eye roll on the other end of the earbud. “Cut the wire, agent.”
“Manners,” Stiles snarked, guiding the exacto to the wire in question. It slid through with a gentle snick and the red light on the ID reader went out.
“You’re welcome.”
Stiles gently fit the card reader back into the wall and got to work prying open the door. “I don’t recall saying thank you,” he grunted, heaving the heavy metal back inch by inch.
“I’m sure it was implied.”
“I might be inclined if you—” Another grunt as he wedged his shoulder in the space he’d made, trying to use it to get some leverage against the protesting metal. “—helped me with this door.” Not for the first time Stiles lamented the fact that he was chosen for the field, instead of the literal werewolf. Instead, he was embarrassing himself and his very human muscles while Derek got his nerd on from the comfort of the unmarked van parked a few streets away. Life just wasn’t fair.
Stiles gave one last shove, and the door gave way with an angry screech that he was pretty sure was audible in China.
“Derek?” he hissed.
“Hold on.” Polite as always, his partner.
Stiles waited, every muscle in his body coiled tight and ready to spring. Whether that meant to fight or flee was yet to be determined. At least three times he imagined some noise that would precede his discovery, but he forced down the instinct to panic with a violent mental shove. The government hadn’t spent billions of dollars in training his ass to trust his partner with his life for nothing.
After an excruciating eternity, Derek’s voice filtered in through the earpiece. “You’re clear. Not for lack of effort.”
Stiles couldn’t help grinning. “You say the sweetest things.” False confidence was easy again now that his heart wasn’t jammed halfway up his throat. He rummaged through his toolkit for one of his most versatile gadgets: a retractable rod made of a polymer material developed by Derek himself. It was three hundred times stronger than steel but lighter than any other material of its kind on (or off) the market. It was a beautiful piece of some of the most sophisticated technology to come out of R&D, and it gave Stiles a thrill of childish joy to jam it inelegantly between door and wall to keep his escape route free.
“Speaking of which…” Derek’s voice was that special brand of pained that signaled to Stiles that his trick had hit its mark. “Let’s try to keep to aliases while we’re on the comms, all right?”
Stiles winced. He had called out Derek’s real name in a moment of panic, hadn’t he? “It’s not my fault you rejected my code name suggestions.”
The sound quality was considerably different behind the door than in the hallway. Though he couldn’t see into the space, it swallowed up Stiles’ voice in a way that suggested space… a lot of it. Stiles fumbled for the flashlight at his belt and stepped cautiously inside.
“You’re not calling me Eagle Two.”
“Well I’m not giving you Eagle One, dude. I called dibs.” He clicked on the flashlight and did a slow sweep of the room. Well. Cavern was probably a better word for it. It was big enough to swallow the weak beam of his government-issued flashlight, leaving the ceiling and far walls shrouded in shadows. “Are you seeing this?”
Derek hummed, but gave no further comment.
“Gotta admire their style, though,” Stiles continued conversationally. The whole affair was an ode to vaulted ceilings broken up by stone columns and sloping walls covered in expensive-looking tile. Whoever built it certainly had a flair for the dramatic. To his left was a small bank monitors hooked up to a lowly humming box. Stiles made his way over to it. “I mean, you gotta respect the whole batcave vibe.”
Derek snorted. It was a shock, completely at odds with his usual implacable stiffness. In his entire time working with him, Stiles had never once seen the man so much as crack a smile. And here he was, almost laughing in Stiles’ ear. “It’s an evil lair, agent. Much more Luthor’s speed than Wayne’s.”
Stiles considered the space again. It did bear an uncomfortably close resemblance to Lex Luthor’s underground lair in Superman. Much more so than any adaptation of the Batcave. Point to Derek. “I didn’t know you were a fan of the classics.”
“I’m multifaceted.”
How someone can sound so unbearably smug with only two words, Stiles would never know. “Nerd.”
“Center console. There should be a panel under the monitors.”Definitely smug.
Stiles fumbled around until he found a hidden switch. A previously unseen panel slid forward, revealing three USB slots. Stiles thumbed open the smallest pocket in his tool belt that housed the USB sticks Derek gave him specifically for this point in the job. Just to be sure, he asked, “This the one?”
“Mhm,” Derek confirmed. “You know which one’s first?”
Stiles rolled his eyes. Even if Derek hadn’t labeled them 1 and 2 in obnoxious silver sharpie, the four consecutive run-throughs Derek had forced him to listen to before letting him out of the van would have been enough to hammer the point home.
“Yes, dad,” he muttered, fishing out the first stick. “Just let me know when I need to switch them out.”
“You’ll know,” Derek replied cryptically, which didn’t inspire a whole lot of confidence, but Stiles would be damned if he admitted that out loud.
Stiles watched in interest as the script contained within the flash drive did its thing. It was another of Derek’s projects, something he’d been developing for months with the rest of his little nerd squad back at headquarters. Derek had explained a little of it back in the van. If pressed by a superior, Stiles could explain that the code was meant to create a channel between this server and one controlled by their agency, one that Derek’s team could use to read through and copy every file stored on this server. Anything else had gone over Stiles’ head.
Stiles’ skills were more hands-on and intuition based. Identifying suspicious characters? Convincing them to divulge all of their deepest secrets to him? Finding the fastest way out of any resulting shootouts or capture attempts? That was where he shined the brightest. Developing extremely complicated code to infiltrate evil corporations’ systems, do… stuff while inside them, then exit without a trace? That was Derek’s thing. Stiles was just the sneaky middleman needed to insert peg A into slot B.
The screens flickered constantly between different windows. Lines of code would appear and disappear again too fast for him to read, but based on Derek’s intermittent hums of approval in his ear, Stiles guessed they were doing their job. As the script worked, he kept an ear out for any sign of discovery.
They passed the time together in silence, both of them tense at the thought of the most important part of their mission falling through at the last second. It left Stiles alone with his senses, feeling wrong-footed for the first time since infiltrating the compound earlier in the evening. After a too-long stretch of time, activity on the screens slowed down, then stopped. All the screens were black except for one, which held a single line of green text and a blinking cursor. Stiles leaned forward to read it. When he did, he made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat.
Insert 2nd USB stick, agent. (It has the number 2 on it.)
“Told you you’ll know,” Derek’s voice was a gentle tease in his ear.
“You were so cryptic about it,” Stiles muttered, complying. “I thought it was gonna be something cool.”
“Computers are cool,” Derek replied, then lapsed back into silence.
The second stick took much less time than the first, or maybe it was just the end in sight that made it seem like it was going faster than it actually was. Whichever was true, it felt like no time until a single green line of text was displaying Installation Complete before all the screens went blank.
Derek’s voice was like silk. “Don’t forget to take the USBs with you.”
Stiles rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he snarked, tucking the USBs back into their pocket and securing it. “What would I do without you?”
“You would be dead seven times over if it weren’t for me.”
“Fair,” Stiles conceded. It was gratifying to return the door and find it hadn’t budged an inch since he’d left it. It was rare in Stiles’ line of work that the things he set down stuck around and waited patiently for him to collect them. Granted, at this point in his career most of the “things” Stiles set aside for later were informants and enemies of the government, so a little bit of disobedience was probably to be expected. But whatever. Details.
Easing the door closed was trickier than forcing it open, Stiles soon realized. Not only was he worried about loudly protesting metal, he wasn’t sure how he was going to stop the whole thing from slamming closed the second he pulled out Derek’s rod.
Heh.
As always, Derek chimed in with the solution at Stiles’ precise moment of need.
“Retract it gradually,” Derek commanded, and Stiles complied. “Good. Now fold your jacket in half and stick it in so it doesn’t slam… Good. Now just pull the jacket out.”
Under Derek’s direction, Stiles eased the nightmare door closed. The jacket muffled the metal-on-metal impact, and when he yanked it out, the door settled back into place with hardly a complaint. Stiles made a mental note to make the whole experience sound a lot cooler in his retelling the next day.
“You’re welcome,” Derek whispered in his ear, voice dripping with self-satisfaction.
“I don’t recall saying thank you,” Stiles replied as he popped the card reader out of the wall again, grinning at the echo of their conversation from earlier. There was a prolonged pause as he bit off a length of electrical tape and carefully brought the snipped ends of the yellow wire together.
“It was implied.”
“Whatever you say, big guy.”
Stiles secured both raw edges of the wire with the tape, then confirmed that the ID reader was once again operational. He carefully tucked the bundle of wires back into their space in the wall, then returned the box to its home for the last time, good as new.
“Ready to get me out of here?”
“Always,” was the curt reply, sounding almost fond to Stiles’ delusional ears. “You’re alone on your floor, but there are two guards stationed outside the elevators to the west, same as when you came in. Your best bet is to go south to avoid them, then take the service stair up to ground level.”
“Got it,” Stiles said, already moving towards his exit. “See you soon, dude.”
“You better.”
Stiles made good on his promise, and was rewarded with a nod of acknowledgement from Derek when he threw open the van door. It was the closest Stiles had ever come to getting an honest-to-god smile from the guy, and it made something warm and gentle unfurl in his chest.
He couldn’t stop grinning the entire drive back to headquarters.
Happy New Year’s Eve, everyone! 2016 hasn’t been the best in many, many ways, including my writing. It’s been an extremely stressful year between school, college apps, and more, uh, global issues, and as a result I’ve spent less time on tumblr, less time talking to you guys, and definitely less time writing. Regardless, I managed to get 73,980 words written, which, while not nearly as many as last time, is still pretty good for this Hell Year. So here’s a huge thank you to everyone who’s continued to support me and read my writing. I love and appreciate you and your kind words so, so much, and here’s a roundup of the fics I managed to get out this year:
A Different Kind of Alpha
Derek regains his footing and stands over the man, who can’t be more than twenty. He has brown hair and what might be moles, but it’s hard to tell past the layer of blood and grime he’s covered in. At the very least, Derek’s sure they’ve never met before.
The man looks up at him with wide eyes, his entire body trembling.
“I’m Derek Hale,” Derek begins again, letting his eyes bleed red to make his point. “Alpha of the-”
The man cuts him off once more, this time by passing out. From the looks of him, it’s a wonder it didn’t happen sooner.
***
In which Stiles is kidnapped by the alpha pack and manages to escape after two months of torture, only to end up on the territory of yet another alpha. Luckily for him, it turns out to be one Derek Hale, who definitely got more than he bargained for when he went to investigate a strange noise.
To Make It Right
In a society where the werewolves have been enslaved by the humans, Derek has had enough owners to know who the real monsters are. He's also had enough to know not to trust a word out of Stiles' mouth, no matter how nice an act he puts on.The only thing that's kept Derek going for all these years is guilt. Now, though, he has a mission that might just allow him to set some of this right.
If only he can get away from Stiles.
***
In which Derek's been abused all his life, Stiles just wants to show him he's not like his past owners, and they've both got a plan. The only question is, whose is more flawed?
Pack Human Things and Star Wars Slings
In a fit of desperation, though it’s more likely to result in Stiles' hand being bitten off than anything else, he flings out an arm to shove the hulking hellhound away. Well, at least he tries to. What actually happens is that his forearm barely makes it six inches off the ground before weakly flopping back down, sending pain shooting up his arm.
Fuck, what did this thing do to his shoulder?
Stiles cries out incoherently, trying to get someone’s attention. No one else shows up, though, and a moment later the creature looms even closer, and looks him right in the eyes. Oh, good. At least this whole thing is satisfying for someone. Right as Stiles is about to tear his gaze away and try to come to terms with his own mortality in a matter of seconds, the monster’s eyes flash blue. Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever been so relieved in his life.
“Not a monster,” he slurs, mostly to himself. “J’st Derek. Thank fuck.”
***
‘Stiles dislocates his shoulder in battle and Derek has to reset it’ au
Think of Me Fondly
Perhaps the worst part of this whole situation, worse than the torture and the pain and the desperation, is that Stiles is here to watch it all.
Well, not Stiles. Not really.
Derek realized long ago that the man before him is only a hallucination, a horrible trick conjured up by his lonely, strained, pitiful mind. He supposes some small part of himself finds the idea of Stiles being here comforting. For the rest of him? It’s torture. Well, torture on torture. It’s almost too much, the way Not-Stiles looks at him with those big, brown eyes, like he’s sad and angry and hopeless all at once.
Derek knows the feeling.
***
In which Derek is kidnapped, and after a head injury, begins to hallucinate Stiles. It doesn't take long for the hallucinations to go from a nuisance to Derek's safe space, nor does it take long after Derek's rescue for him to spill a secret to the real Stiles.
It's a Wonderful Life
“Yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You’re right, Stiles. Maybe it’d just be better if I was never born at all.”
“Hmm,” Stiles says. “Huh.” He starts talking to the ceiling again, and Derek’s seriously beginning to wonder if this guy escaped from Eichen. “You think that would work? Hmm. Yeah, I getcha. Alright.” He looks back at Derek. “You’ve got your wish.”
“What?”
“You’ve never been born."
“You’re crazy,” Derek huffs. “Absolutely out of your mind.”
“The jury’s still out on that one,” Stiles says, shrugging. “But I suggest you take a quick look in the mirror.”
Derek’s reluctant to look away from a potential hunter, but what he sees when he glances over is enough to make him full-on turn his back to the man. He staggers forward and grabs at the sink, using it to hold himself up.
His eyes are glowing gold.
Not red. Not even blue.
Gold.
***
It's a Wonderful Life AU in which Derek wishes he were never born, Stiles is angel who sets out to show him just how terrible that would be, and things turn out far better than anyone could've expected.
Drabbles
Sterek Christmas | Stoyd Kiss | Sterek Teens | Sterek Pickup Line | McHaleinski Stuck in a Tree | Stisaac Cuddling | Sterek in a Jungle | Scerek Hospital | Sterek Famous Musician | Sciles Summer Camp | Sciles Paramedic | Allira Music Festival
