Son Of A Lost Country

There was one thing about which Stiles was certain. The Order hadn’t been completely upfront with him. They knew about him and they got their information from an unknown source. There were signs that suggested they had known about him even before they had even introduced themselves.

Now, all he had to do was find the source.

All the evidence spoke against him and if he were to lose another name, he was sure he would be facing consequences. Before anything of that sort could happen, he needed leverage. He needed to be one step ahead.

At this point in his investigation, however, he had nothing to go on. So the only way to move it along was to inspect the scene that had started this whole mess.

Hindering him in his investigation was the rule that he was no longer allowed to sleep alone. He had tried to bargain but Derek wouldn't budge on his decision. He said that Stiles should think of it as a "prolonged sleep-over. And isn't that fun?"

That basically left Stiles no other option than to break the rules. A feat made even easier by having magic at his side. It also didn't hurt that he chose the night of Jackson's turn to "Stiles-sit" who could not really be bothered to make sure if Stiles was really sleeping as he claimed to be. Jackson wouldn't check only to find empty air in the shape of a teenage boy making breathing noises. It was amazing what his sparks could do if his will was strong enough.

With two sparks at his soles to quiet his footsteps, he made his way down the stairs. He was wearing a dark hoodie which was also infused with a spark to mute his heartbeat. The hood was hiding his face, which was turned slightly so that the material could mute his breathing as well.

The energy he needed to keep the sparks working made his knees go weak but he forced himself to take another and another step forward until he would be outside the door. He was shivering in his hoodie which had fit him a few weeks ago but in which he was now almost drowning in.

He had always liked his clothes to be baggier but this looked ridiculous.

A skeleton in a hospital bed.

The image flashed before his eyes only briefly but it still caused him to halt dead in his tracks.

As he paused, he heard voices coming from the direction of the office but they were speaking too quietly for him to understand a single word.

Unable to resist his growing curiosity, he crept closer to the office door, pressing his ear against the wood. He closed his eyes and conjured up another spark which he pressed into the door. Immediately, he heard the voices as if he was standing next to the person speaking.

“I told you that I’m not leaving. I owe you all a debt and now it's my time to repay you. You can’t really think I’m too scared, can you?”

It was Lea, Stiles realised. Her voice was energetic but agitated at once. He also heard a bone-deep sigh, coming from the person she was talking to.

“Lea, don’t be foolish. You’ve already repaid us so there is no debt. What we are facing here is a full-out battlefield. Ghost activity has increased again, a demon is on the loose and people have turned more hostile. It’s almost as if they could feel the pull to bring up their darkest thoughts, the black core of their soul. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice it too.”

She barked out a dry laugh. “Good thing I’ve already come into contact with the black core of my own soul. I’m not afraid of what horrible things I can do, Derek. I’ve already done some of those.”

“Just a few hours ago, a man beat his wife to death. An eighteen-year-old girl took her own life a week ago, investigations show that she was bullied. It doesn’t matter how familiar you are with the dark side of yourself. You’ll always be surprised at how horrendous people can be. Makes you doubt if you’ve ever even really known yourself, doesn’t it?”

“Jesus, there goes the holiday spirit. That’s terrible and disgusting, I know, and I’ve seen it all already. I know what I can take. I won’t run away now. You’ll need me,” Lea said, full of conviction.

“I’m beginning to think that Yukimura had a point. I feel it too. This everlasting shadow that seems to follow me everywhere I go. It’s not being cast on the floor, that’s the problem. It clings to my bones. I hear it scream in my head, all the horrible thoughts I have ever had. There is no balance between good and evil anymore. Something is wrong with this town.”

“Fuck the balance. Fuck that kitsune too.”

“I’m not up for the task, are you?” The wry smile was clearly audible in his voice.

Lea laughed a full body laugh. “Hell, no. She’s the coldest woman I’ve ever met. Sex with her would probably be very clinical. No thanks. I’d rather sleep with Peter.”

"And if that isn't a dark thought…"

"The darkest I've had since coming here. So I'll be fine." Her voice was high with triumph.

“I really can’t change your mind, then.”

“I’m staying. That’s final. Gloomy towns are kind of charming anyway.”

Stiles pulled away from the door and almost ran to the kitchen. Without his cane, he was more stumbling than walking, his leg screaming in anger against the treatment.

His mind was a whirlwind with a single purpose. The keys to a car, any car.

With a little bit of luck, it would be the Camaro, just in spite.

He knew that Derek didn't keep his car keys in the bowl where the other keys were. He was aware, after all, that his betas would seize the opportunity to borrow his car without asking for permission first.

No, the keys for the Camaro must be somewhere where the betas would never look.

Or at least wouldn't look too closely at.

Stiles leaned against the counter, which was usually Derek's spot. His foot bumped against the counter and he froze.

The plank was loose!

He bent down, gripped the edges of the plank and then he pulled. It came off without a hitch. Obviously, it had been removed a lot of times already. Hidden behind it were the spare car keys to the Camaro. Stiles was not stupid enough to assume Derek would ever put his own car keys out of his reach.

Stiles closed his eyes and focused. Burly was a smudge of brightness on the propriety and even though he couldn't exactly tell where the fox was, he knew he was in close proximity. Stiles focused on making Burly aware of his own light within him and through their connection, the fox should then feel compelled to come to him.

Stiles made his way on muted steps out of the Hale House to the Camaro. Burly hadn't turned up yet, but he was sure that it was only a matter of seconds. He opened the car door and had almost gotten in when he noticed. He jumped back in shock and fell.

"I thought you would notice that the light was on."

He scrambled to get up, clinging to the car door for support. Still feeling pain radiating from his backside, he glared at the person responsible for it.

"How did you know?! I took precautions!" Stiles also mentally added that he had heard him talk with Lea in the office not that long ago, which he didn't say out loud for obvious reasons.

Derek held up Burly who had been contently relaxing on his lap. "He goes wherever you go. I just followed him."

Stiles wanted to curse at his bad luck, but somewhere deep inside he had to admit that that was kind of smart. So much for being a step ahead.

"If you are trying to stop me -"

Derek rolled his eyes. "If that were the case, I wouldn't have let you get this far. Now get in the car."

Stiles looked meaningfully at the driver's seat which was currently occupied by the alpha himself.

"The passenger side, Stiles. Obviously, I'll drive."

Since complaining was of no use, Stiles just made his way to the passenger seat and told Derek where to go. To his surprise, the alpha didn't comment on the destination. By the time they had left the propriety, Burly had made his way over to Stiles and bumped his snoot against Stiles in apology. Ignoring wasn't working due to the fox' persistence, so after a while, Stiles gave in and petted the animal.

"Neat trick. I couldn't hear a thing," Derek said, referring to his muting technique.

"But you anticipated it."

"I know not to underestimate you."

Something dawned on Stiles then.

"Oh my God. You appointed Jackson to me already knowing that I would try to sneak out. You manipulated me!" The accusing tone had snuck into his voice without his intent.

Derek just shrugged. “It was Jackson’s turn, anyway. I just thought it was likely that you’d try anything when it’s his turn. Not my fault that you’re predictable.”

Stiles didn’t acknowledge his response and instead fiddled around with the radio. He expected to hear another rock classic and was all the more surprised when the soft sound of a Beach Boys song filled the car. With a sigh, he leaned back into his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

Derek parked a few blocks away from the house so as not to draw suspicion. They got out of the Camaro and walked the rest of the way. Stiles held a flashlight in his hand which Derek had handed to him before they had left the car. It seemed the alpha had planned for everything. It would have been easier to stay annoyed at him if he wasn’t proving himself to be useful.

The house was in a remote area on the outskirts of the town but it was still a popular hang-out place among the teenagers. Thankfully, since the investigation was still ongoing, it was now less popular.

As a reminder of what happened, the ugly message written in red was still glaring from the face of the building. The house itself had been in a bad shape to begin with since it had been empty for years. Dust was settling on the windowsills, the windows were milky, the entrance door was hanging off its hinges from all the break-in attempts and the roof was already missing a few shingles. Those were just the observations one could make from the outside.

“It wasn’t always like this,” Derek said from beside Stiles, looking at the house like one might look at a painting that had been demolished. “But this house has been haunted by bad memories, I guess.”

Derek lifted the door so that they could pass through, then leaned it back the way it was before.

“Who used to live here?” Stiles asked involuntarily. He wasn’t really sure if he wanted to know the answer. He turned on the flashlight.

“Mrs Danner, her daughter and her granddaughter. They were a nice little family, as far as I can remember. I was just a kid back then but I do remember that Mrs Danner gave me sweets whenever I met her. She would do it very secretively, just put the candy into my hand without my mum seeing it. She knew, of course.”

Stiles was surprised to find all the furniture still in the house. On the clothing rack by the entrance even hung a few coats. It looked like nothing had changed since someone had lived in here. Time had just put a protective layer of dust and mould over the picture so that it was preserved the way it was forever.

“What happened to them?”

“On the first floor, the granddaughter had an accident and consequently drowned in the bathtub. The door was locked so when they were finally able to get to her, it was already too late. She was only five years old. Apparently, her mother was drawing a bath for her and walked out of the room to take a phone call. The kid then walked in and locked the door just for the fun of it. She played with the bathwater but fell in. Her funeral was one of the saddest in this town. Mrs Danner was heartbroken and died only two months after from a heart attack. Her daughter then moved away, presumably to get over the tragedy, but she never sold the house.”

It felt like there was some residue sadness hanging in the air, left behind by the people who had suffered it. It clung to their clothes as soon as they had stepped foot inside the house.

They had walked into the kitchen and dining area. On the table were still a few plates, waiting as if someone had already planned for a guest. Some of the chairs were toppled over. On the kitchen counter, there was a framed picture of the little family.

One could almost believe that they had only left for a quick walk before dinner.

High laughter like the chime of bell wafted through the room.

Derek and Stiles shared a brief look.

Stiles held out one hand and conjured up the spark, filling it with the frail connection he felt to the faceless man, then he sent it on its way.

First, it hovered before him as if it was a navigation system that had to calculate the route, but then it started slowly moving. Its movements were jerky and disoriented but it seemed to know where it was headed.
“How does it work?” Derek asked as they followed the spark.

Stiles’ leg felt now stiffer than it had before.

“I found out that I can detect the energy of one of my sparks if I concentrate on said energy. He has more than one, so even if he is no longer here, there should be still traces of the energy.”

He didn’t mention that he had to put a lot of his own energy in the tracking spark and instead did his best to hide his trembling hands. It now seemed arrogant that he hadn’t brought the cane. Especially since the spark led them upstairs on a frail-looking staircase. Every step they took caused the wood to emit an ugly creaking noise. Once again, Stiles’ leg screamed in protest. He gritted his teeth and carried on.

“There is a distinct scent here… one I’ve never smelled before,” Derek said, his eyebrows drawn down in thought.

“Probably just all those stupid kids looking for a place to play dare in.” Stiles pointed his flashlight at a spot where he thought he had seen a shadow. There was none.

“No,” Derek shook his head. “It’s not people. It doesn’t smell … earthly.” He grimaced at his choice of words.

“Earthly as in ‘smells like soil, worms and that stuff’ or earthly as in ‘from this planet’?” Stiles asked while pointing the flashlight back to the spot. There was a shadow there now. He almost dropped the flashlight in shock.

“It smells like darkness.”

Stiles kept his eyes on the shadow while Derek had already walked ahead. The spark followed the track without care, coming closer to the shadow. Suddenly the shadow seemed to reach out and grasped the spark.

Hot bright pain flared up in Stiles’ chest, causing him to drop to his knees. He could only watch as the spark became slowly engulfed in darkness. It felt like nothing he had ever felt before. The pain of it didn’t even compare to being struck by lightning. The darkness was poisoning his core, tainting everything with violence, hate and a thirst for vengeance.

He couldn’t even scream for help. The darkness had opened a black hole in his chest that threatened to consume his entire being.

Derek rushed over to the spark and gripped it as well, hissing as if being burnt as he came into contact with the shadow.

The pain in Stiles’ chest subsided. Derek managed to free the spark from the grip of the shadow and stumbled back, putting a protective hand over the spark. Stiles took in a deep breath, clutching a hand into his shirt where the lightning mark was as a deep ache settled in.

Derek instantly kneeled down next to him, inspecting him for any injuries. He shook his head in frustration.

“And you wanted to come here alone,” he said accusingly. “Because apparently fighting your battles alone and nearly dying every time while doing so is cool now.”

Stiles wanted to argue but one look into the alpha’s eyes made him immediately reconsider. What he saw in those hazel eyes was an honest worry for him. Worry and fear. And a little bit of exasperation as well.

There was no point in arguing. After all, he could see where the other man was coming from. The last time he had gone to ‘fight his battles’, he indeed had come very close to dying.

“Now I’m thankful that you tagged along uninvited,” he told him and he really meant it. “You could’ve just as easily demanded that I don’t do stupid stuff like this.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “As if it was possible to stop you,” he muttered. “Just don’t do stupid stuff alone.”

Without me, was what was unsaid but what was still easy to understand anyway.

Stiles grinned. “The good thing is that doing stupid stuff is more fun when you’re not alone.”

The alpha looked conflicted as an array of emotions twisted his features so fast that Stiles couldn’t decipher even one them, much less what they meant. His face smoothed out all those emotions very quickly so there was no way he could ask him about it.

Derek held out the hand with the spark, his other still protectively shielding it. Then he took one of Stiles’ hands and let the spark rest on it.

“We should go. I don’t want to stay here longer than I have to.”

Stiles nodded and got up with Derek’s help. His leg was hurting more now than before and for a moment it seemed like it wouldn’t hold his weight. He was tumbling slightly but before he could fall, Derek had grabbed his arm and steadied him. Stiles was a little ashamed that he appeared weak again. Once again, it was him that needed saving and he had even added to the burden by bringing himself into this situation.

He felt like apologizing, yet he couldn’t bring himself to admit how weak he felt. Derek carried on, assisting him with such casual gestures that it seemed to him it would only insult the alpha if he were to make excuses. It was the way he walked right next to him, sometimes holding out a hand to steady him but otherwise letting him make his way alone that made him feel less like a burden and more like a person someone put trust in.

It reminded him so much of all the reasons why he fell in love with Derek that it awakened the old yearning he thought he had already buried.

He slightly shook himself, trying to focus on the task at hand again.

The spark stayed now in his hand and he had to concentrate harder to get a feel on which way to it would take if it were allowed to float around freely. Its intention was clear, it was just harder for him to read it.

“I think it’s leading us up to the attic,” Stiles said so quietly, he almost whispered. The shadow had been gone as soon as it had lost the fight for the spark but there was no telling when it would be back.

Derek managed to locate a poker with which they could pull down the staircase to the attic in record time. He was careful to make as little noise as possible which was an impressive feat considering the old creaky wood and the rusty hinges.

He stopped when the giggle of a child echoed through the hallway.

The laugh raised goosebumps on Stiles’ skin. He could’ve sworn the noise was coming from behind him.

The climb up the stairs looked narrow and quite steep. One of them would have to either stay behind or face whatever was up there on his own. Both options were not appealing.

A short high outcry broke through the silence once again. It made Stiles’ heart thump wildly in his chest how close it sounded. It sounded like whoever had made the noise was standing only a few feet behind them.

When they turned around, no one could be seen. Not even a shadow.

In view of that observation, Derek seemed to have reached a conclusion. “Climb on my back.”

“What?! No, what the hell-”

Derek growled in impatience.” For once, don’t be stubborn and do as I say.”

“Sure, following orders blindly always leads to great decisions,” Stiles countered.

“Please!” Derek hissed.

Stiles still hesitated. “Just trust me,” Derek added, his tone now a little softer.

Since this showed Stiles that this was not about who had more power over whom, he nodded and let himself be helped onto the alpha’s back. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck, clinging onto him even tighter once they started their ascend together.

Curious, Stiles threw a quick glance over his shoulder and froze. At the end of the hallway stood a little girl, her skin ash grey and her lips blue. Her clothes were dripping water onto the floor.

She met his gaze, held up a hand and waved at him.

Stiles gulped. He wasn’t sure if he should dare to take his eyes away from her to see what awaited them at the attic. Her eyes seemed to hold his gaze captive and he felt like he would make a grave mistake if he were to look away from her.

Once she was out his sight because they had almost reached the attic, he felt a quick surge of panic overpower him. It was a punch in the stomach that stole away his breath.

I could have been you.

For a moment, he was back at the river with his head under water. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t free himself from the grip that was forcing him down.

He flinched when a hand suddenly gripped his own. It was then that he realized that they were already standing in the attic and he was still holding on to Derek who had probably expected him to let go as soon as they had stepped a foot up here.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Stiles cleared his throat and slid down Derek’s back.

“Sorry.”

He took in his surroundings, in part because he was curious, in part because he wanted to leave this awkward situation behind him.

The attic was dusty and stacked with boxes and a few broken lamps, various sports items and discarded furniture.

The spark in Stiles’ hand almost seemed to hum in excitement. He must have been here.

The strongest pull came from the old dark red sofa in the corner so Stiles walked over to it, Derek following.

“It smells like blood,” Derek said.

“Dad said he shot him before he got away. He should’ve died from the hit alone. Dad doesn’t miss.” Stiles had often wracked his brain how it was possible for the faceless man to still be alive. Even if the man had moved so that his heart had not been impacted, he still should have died from the blood loss. “No spark should be able to heal himself to that extent.”

He let the spark rest on the couch and was immediately overthrown by a wave of pain. It was dull so he knew it wasn’t his own.

The bullet wound was on his shoulder. He could feel the exit wound so the bullet was not embedded.

Stiles reached under the couch and found a little capsule. He fished it out and held it up. There was the bullet.

Fever. He was getting hot. He lay on this couch, sweating, hallucinating, almost dying. The heat was consuming him and he was shaking.

“The wound got infected. He must have been very weak so he stayed here for days, maybe even weeks.”

Desperation was overwhelming him. He could feel that there was only one possibility left but he felt reluctant to take it.

Stiles tugged at his own hair as he felt torn apart by the decision. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do it. He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t? But would he? Was he so far gone already?

Someone gripped his shoulders and shook him slightly. Slowly he remembered who he was. He was not him. He was Stiles Stilinski.

Derek’s concerned face came into focus the more he freed himself from the past.

“Are you alright?” the alpha asked, still gripping his shoulders tightly.

“I- yes, I’m fine,” Stiles said, shaking his head to get rid of the residue feelings of panic and hopelessness. “I didn’t expect that the connection was that strong.”

For a moment, he had not been able to distinguish himself from the mind of the faceless man and he was trapped in a spiral of conflicting feelings. The faceless man was a prisoner to his own worst nightmares and it slowly turned out that he was his own worst enemy.

Stiles didn’t want to imagine what the others felt who were connected to him. This felt like electricity running through all of them, all because he was too curious and touched the outlet.

Being inside the mind of his tormentor had raised more questions than it had answered.

“So he was hiding here all this time?” Derek asked, his face darkening. He probably blamed himself already for not noticing that the enemy had been hiding in his territory all along. “Where is he now, then?”

“The timing,” Stiles realized, his eyes widening. At Derek’s confused look, he elaborated. “He could’ve healed himself with my spark sooner. But he waited weeks until he took it from me. Why? He almost died while he waited.”

“Something forced his hand?”

“Exactly. A threat, most likely. It doesn’t even have to be a threat to himself since he was already close to death. No, he was already hiding here and that was before the house became a crime scene. By making it a crime scene, he would’ve given up his hiding space and drawn attention to himself.”

Stiles stood up because his work here was done.

“Let’s go home, sourwolf. I got everything I came here for,” he announced.

Derek looked at him like he was crazy. “What is the conclusion then?”

Stiles tilted his head. “That I have to break into The Order’s headquarters. Obviously.”

Before Derek had a chance to ask, Stiles added, “Uh, I think we need to make a run for it. She doesn’t look pleased to see me.”

Derek followed his gaze to the corner of the attic where good old Mrs Danner was glaring at them with murderous intent. Without thinking any longer about this, Derek just grabbed Stiles and hefted him back on his back again while running towards the staircase.

Which was no longer there. It appeared that it had fallen down without making any noise. The angry ghost of Mrs Danner was screeching and coming towards them.

“You’re not gonna jump, are you?” Stiles asked but he quickly changed his mind when cold fingers almost caught the grip on his hoodie. “Nevermind. Jump!”

But as soon as they reached the opening, Derek hesitated. Stiles leaned over his shoulder to see what was stopping him and froze for a moment.

“Jump, Derek. She’s safe, I promise,” Stiles said and Derek snorted incredulously in reply. “Please. Just trust me this once.”

The alpha sighed, gripped his hands tightly and jumped.

The little girl smiled sadly at them, once again waving as they passed her by. Derek kept a suspicious eye on her until she was out of sight and was surprised that she made no attempt to harm them.

“She sees me as a kindred spirit, that’s why she is not angry with me like the others are. We have something in common,” Stiles explained in a quiet voice as they ran out of the house.

As soon as they had reached the garden, Stiles dropped down onto his feet. They left the propriety as quickly as they could and met up with Burly at the Camaro, who had stayed there to warn them if somebody else was coming.

In the car, Derek finally asked, “How did you know she wouldn’t harm us?”

The alpha almost regretted asking when the teenager’s face turned morose. Stiles took a look out of the window even though it was pitch black outside.

“Her mother drowned her in the bathtub because her boyfriend had broken up with her over the child. The grandmother had been aware of what the daughter had done and paid a large sum of money so that she wouldn’t get convicted. She had loved her granddaughter so the guilt was probably too much for her to handle in the end.”

“No, that can’t be. That is just a rumour,” Derek sputtered. “How would you even know that?”

Stiles leaned back in his seat, bone-deep exhaustion flashed across his features.

“Diane - the mother - was wearing high heels, her good ones. They didn’t fit the dress she was wearing when the ambulance arrived. Fashion was her hobby. She would have never worn this combination on a date, which she had told the police she was getting ready for before the accident. She obviously changed her clothes before the ambulance came. Probably because the original dress she was going to wear was soaked. Not that anyone ever asked her about it because apparently back then policemen in Beacon Hills were not the brightest crayons in the box.”

At Derek’s raised eyebrows, he continued, “Of course, this wouldn’t stand as evidence in court and the investigation was not nearly thorough enough to find real evidence. Which is not unusual when it involves one of the most influential families in the town. I know no one would believe me, but my theory was confirmed when the girl clearly said ‘Goodbye mommy’ as she waved at us. Those were her last words, I assume.”

Derek’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he contemplated over what he had just heard.

“You asked me what had happened,” Derek said, in a dry tone.

Stiles grimaced. “I didn’t want to manipulate you if that is what you’re thinking. I just wanted to know what you thought had happened. I thought it would help me understand why no one in this town pushed for the investigation to continue. And I didn’t say this so that you could feel guilty over yet another thing that was in no way your fault.”

Derek shook his head in amazement. "Sometimes I wish I could see the world through your eyes.”

“That’s not what my dad said when I told him about this. He was more like ‘why did you break into the archives again’ and ‘Stiles, we’ve only been in this town for half a year, I don’t want to move again’. But I could never quite forget that case. I wanted for it to be opened again but who would believe a kid? Would you have believed me if you had never seen her ghost? You didn’t even believe me when I told you that Alphaba was not the murderer!”

“There was no evidence for that.”

Stiles’ mouth thinned. “Exactly. Just like there is no evidence now. Well, there is, but not evidence that anyone would acknowledge as such. Sherlock Holmes said that “when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains - however improbable - must be the truth”. So if I told you that I think I know now what exactly happened that night with the message, would you believe me, even if I can’t exactly prove it?”

“Does it matter if I do?” Derek asked, a little lost for an answer.

Stiles’ face fell and he turned away. Meanwhile, they had already reached the Hale House again for which he was glad. He got out of the car without another word and limped towards the Hale House.

“Stiles! Wait!”

But he didn’t or rather he wouldn’t have if the alpha hadn’t grabbed his arm and forced him to stop.

“Now you’re reaching hasty conclusions,” Derek accused. “You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Am I now? Then correct me if I’m wrong,” Stiles scoffed. “Whenever I’m asking you to trust me, you won’t because I’m just the stupid human, what would I know anyway. But let’s better make sure that he won’t get hurt because even if he is a liability, you still feel responsible. Stupid human and his stupid ideas, always making trouble so that you have to play babysitter.”

“I apologized for how I acted back then. I should have listened to you. How can you be so smart and still think you’re a liability to us?” Derek carded with one hand through his own hair in frustration. “But you are the one always heading off alone. So why would you even care if I believed you or not?”

“Because you came with me tonight and I thought…,” his voice cracked at that point so he had to clear his throat and fight to keep his emotions in check, “I thought that things had changed.”

He blamed himself now for getting his hopes up. Over the past few weeks, he had assumed that his opinion was now valued.

“And they have,” Derek insisted, “Well mostly. Apparently, I’m still bad at communicating. But think back, please. When have my actions lately shown you that I wouldn’t stand by you, no matter what happens?”

Stiles gulped as Derek’s hands moved cautiously from his arm up to frame his face. The familiarity of it and the feeling of being protected made it hurt all the more whenever he thought he might lose it all again in the near future.

He closed his eyes. “You broke my heart once,” he admitted in a voice so quiet it was not more than a whisper.

“I know.” Slowly, his head came to rest against Stiles’ forehead. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles felt his resolve crumble at its very foundation. There was no denying that the alpha was sincere. In all honesty, Stiles had forgiven him for stringing him along and giving him false hope that they could have a romantic relationship in the future. What he never contemplated was how much he was still hurting from simply being dismissed. In his heart had settled the fear that he would be left out again and forgotten and no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he was over it, the fear still reared its ugly head whenever moments of doubt arose.

“Don’t dismiss me again ‘cause this time I’ll be gone for good.”

Derek smiled, despite the moment not really allowing it. “Duly noted.”

“Hey, I mean it. Stop smiling!” Stiles scolded. “We were having a moment.”

“Now you ruined it by pointing it out.”

He wanted to step away in indignation when Derek’s arms wound themselves around his waist.

“You don’t have to do this on your own, you know. We want to be there for you. It’s not that we question whether you are able to handle all this alone. We know you can, you’ve proven it to us. The point is that you don’t have to,” Derek told him. “So don’t shut us out.”

With a weak smile, Stiles walked into the embrace and wound his own arms around the other man’s neck, his head resting on one shoulder.

“Next time, I’ll be taking you with me of my own accord.”

“I’ll be there.”