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-*-
I’m giving you a nightcall to tell you how I feel…
-*-
“Derek?” Stiles’ voice sounded in ear, sounding tinny and far away, and not because of the phone.
“Stiles,” Derek breathed, “Where are you?”
“At home. Where else?” Stiles asked, sounding puzzled.
Derek let his eyes slide shut.
And then the memories washed over him.
-*-
I want to drive you through the night, down the hills…
-*-
With all the driving that Stiles did, in pressured situations no less, it was of no surprise that he’d crashed.
Or so the logical part of Derek thought.
Sure, he’d crashed before, but they’d been near-misses. Just little shocks to remind them that Stiles wasn’t like them. He was human.
His car didn’t help. His safety couldn’t be ensured in it for how old it was. Hence why Derek was always replacing his own.
For all the reminders they’d received, they still hadn’t got the message. And so there they all were. The hospital – where else?
Situations were always grim for the pack, but this time…
It didn’t seem liked Stiles was going to pull through unscathed.
-*-
I’m gonna tell you something you don’t want to hear…
-*-
Derek took the responsibility of telling Stiles. Melissa persuaded the doctors to leave it up to the pack, and even though Scott was the alpha, Derek decided to shoulder the task – the one thing that seemed more impossible than facing any alpha, kanima, nogitsune, or hunter…
He shut the younger wolf down by telling him Stiles already hated him so it’d be easier to hear from him. There was no protest.
And it wasn’t like Stiles hadn’t already known – his eyes were painfully insightful when he entered the room – but it was a matter of him accepting the reality.
“Derek?” Stiles croaked. “What’s going on?”
Derek swallowed.
He’d hoped the two of them could come to terms with their hostility, but after this Derek knew there was no coming back.
“Lie down,” Derek told him gently.
He’d need to for a while.
-*-
I’m gonna show you where its dark, but have no fear…
-*-
Derek found Stiles sitting on the steps in the loft one night.
“Hey,” he murmured. Stiles lifted his head minutely in acknowledgement. “What are you doing here?”
Stiles sniffled, though he tried covering it up with a cough. “I- uh…just wanted to be away from everyone for a bit. Didn’t think anybody would be coming here – including you. Sorry,” he added, hanging his head.
“It’s a good spot be isolated,” Derek responded easily, “That’s the reason I bought this place.”
Stiles chuckled drily. “Huh, right.”
Derek couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering down to the gleaming metal of Stiles’ leg, where it lay uncovered because the pant leg had been rolled up.
“Are you in pain?” Derek asked, quietly enough he wasn’t sure Stiles’ human ears would hear.
He heard Stiles’ heart beat speed up slightly before he shook his head.
Derek nodded, even though Stiles wasn’t looking at him. The least he could do was allow Stiles’ his dignity by not calling him out.
“You know…” Derek sighed, settling down on the step beside Stiles, “There was a neighbouring pack here with a fearsome alpha a while ago…”
Before the fire, he didn’t say.
“Yeah?” Stiles asked, giving him a sceptical side-ward glance.
“They, uh... were allies of ours, and every time they came around for meetings I couldn’t sit there long because of the raw power of them all.”
Not that he had to, Laura was the one who had to stick around as the next descendent of the alpha lineage. She needed the experience, and how to cope with so many foreign wolves around. “I should’ve been used to it, mom was a True Alpha, but that pack had such a history…” Derek shook his head.
“That’s great and all…” Stiles began, “But why are you telling me this?”
Derek fixed his gaze on Stiles. “Because the alpha of this pack had no right arm.”
Stiles jerked.
Derek drove on anyway. “He led these ambitious, forceful wolves without an arm, and from what I know, he’d worked his way to that position that way. They were in a bad position, and back when order in our supernatural world existed, they were going to be exterminated. But this wolf saw the good in his pack, and so he pulled heaven and earth to get to the top and bring them back.”
Stiles face contorted, as if he had to stop himself from yelling, or crying out in pain. “Why are you telling me this?” he choked out.
“Because you need to hear it,” Derek answered, “You don’t deserve to think you’re any less of a person because you…” Derek trailed off, not letting himself finish that line of thought. “It sucks, I don’t know how much, but it does suck, I can see you’re suffering- “
Stiles lifted his head at that. “You can?”
“I can feel it,” Derek replied honestly. The absence of warmth within him that he knew must be Stiles unsettled him, more than he could admit to himself.
Stiles let out a wet laugh. “Of course, you can, Yoda.”
Derek let his hand rest on Stiles shoulder. “You can come here whenever you like, Stiles.”
The pack could be too much sometimes, he above all understood that. If he could offer Stiles some refuge when they were overwhelming him, then he would.
It was the least he could do.
-*-
There’s something inside you
It’s hard to explain
They’re talking about you boy
But you’re still the same
-*-
Derek watched Stiles opening the door of his house and jog towards his car. The sun was well past setting time, and it was almost at the darkest time of the night.
“Hey,” Stiles huffed as he opened the door and slid inside. He settled his gaze on Derek, and worryingly, there was concern in his eyes. “What’s up?”
“I just…” Derek began, before trailing off in frustration. How could he explain?
Stiles scent filled his nostrils unwilling, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He was always noticing Stiles without realising – his thoughts would be filled with him until it was too late to brush them away.
The sound of his voice, his scent, his wise eyes…him.
He was rich with life in a way that perplexed Derek. He could sense a spark inside the human that risked starting a fire within him too.
And he’d been afraid to get too close because of that.
But he couldn’t control himself – Derek admitted that much now, after realising that for the years they’ve known each other, and he’d been telling himself he’d leave Stiles, Scott and everybody else with them behind…he never did.
His subconscious wolf wouldn’t let him. They were pack – they were where home was, and they were home to him now. There was nothing else for him outside of Beacon Hills. His distant relatives wanted nothing to do with him.
So, whilst his wolf wasn’t letting him leave, the human part of him was being reeled in.
It took a moment for Derek to realise that they were now parked at the edge of their territory, and he’d driven there automatically. He hadn’t said anything in the meantime.
“There’s something within you…” Derek swallowed.
“Organs?” Stiles supplied, “Flesh? Blood?”
“A spark,” Derek countered.
“Seriously?” Stiles demanded, incredulous, “That’s what you drove us here for? Telling me I’m a Spark? Dude, I already knew that – Deaton covered that ages ago. I’ve been handling it.”
Derek turned his head to look at Stiles sharply, letting his eyes rake over him. Stiles breathing stopped as he did it.
He allowed himself to see the changes that had become of the human, how he’d become lither, how he’d built his strength to compensate for his missing limb which helped him grow taller. His hair he kept shorter now – not buzz-cut short, but he didn’t let it go out of control either – and it had turned lighter, like his eyes.
These changes, all though not very drastic, spoke of a switch being flicked.
“You’re not handling it enough,” Derek muttered, “I still can’t ignore you.”
Stiles’ eyes widened. His mouth hung open. His heart sped up. It was almost as if Derek was hearing his own heart beat for how strongly it filled his ears.
That hadn’t been what he meant to say.
Of course, Stiles knew he was a Spark. Derek wasn’t the genius when it came to creatures anyway – Stiles would’ve known before anyone else (barring Deaton) since he was experiencing the change.
And the crash must have stimulated the spark.
“You know,” Stiles said shakily, “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
Derek frowned. “What?”
“You don’t have to ignore me, Derek,” Stiles explained softly, “I’ve had enough of that.”
Derek stared at the human.
“And for the record,” Stiles added, “I don’t think it’s just the spark inside me you can’t ignore.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Nevertheless, Derek inhaled sharply and glanced away.
Hadn’t he called Stiles out so he could tell the guy he loved him himself?
Of course, Stiles would figure it out before Derek could. He hadn’t even realised that had been the dilemma – he still hadn’t admitted it to himself even just an hour earlier.
“You’re still the same,” Derek gritted out, “I could never ignore you.”
That hadn’t been what he was meaning to say either. It was like he was reaching for something and was just falling short.
Derek didn’t get that feeling often.
Stiles unbuckled his seat belt so he could lean across the centre console, well into Derek’s space. The minimal distance between them made it difficult to breathe, like Stiles’ presence demanded all the oxygen.
“I don’t think I could ever ignore you, either,” Stiles admitted, his lips quirking. It was only then that Derek realised that the human probably couldn’t see his face properly because of the dark.
But even with that knowledge, he was hesitant to turn the lights on. There was relief in not being seen properly, especially whilst he viewed Stiles’ face perfectly.
“You were just such a dick,” Stiles continued, and Derek scoffed. “I thought I was scared of you for such a long time. Thought I didn’t want to be around you. I was worrying so much about the next time I’d see you and I thought that meant I never wanted it to actually happen-“
“Stiles,” Derek breathed out, too softly for the human to hear.
“And then the Alphas came and Cora returned, and it made me realise that you’d lost so much – watching you get part of your family back – you’re just like anyone else. Well, I mean, you aren’t just like anyone else, obviously, I didn’t mean it like that-“
Derek couldn’t control the laugh that bubbled out. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one that had had revelations.
Stiles gave him a crooked smile before speaking again.
“But if I’d lost my entire family in one go I wouldn’t have been…I’m not as strong as you so…I mean, I wouldn’t have- uh…”
He trailed off at that, his brow crinkling.
“It’s okay,” Derek soothed, lifting his hand to rest on Stiles face.
The human glanced back up at Derek, squinting to make out his features.
Derek smiled. And because he didn’t have any self-control – as had been admitted – he let himself lower his head so there was no distance between their faces.
Then he really couldn’t breathe – there was only their exhaled breaths puffing against each other’s mouths.
Derek watched Stiles eyes slide shut before he pressed his lips against Stiles’.
He’d expected that touch to burn more – physical contact with Stiles often felt that way. But this touch – feather-light – didn’t burn him.
At least, not straight away.
As Stiles pulled away, the contact seemed to sink into and under Derek’s skin, straight through his chest and into his stomach, where the pull of the supernatural lay, and it sat there. Waiting for something. It felt like anticipation.
Stiles’ gaze was expecting, as if he knew exactly what Derek was feeling. His eyes reflected the sensation perfectly.
“Sometimes I wonder if you know what you do to me,” Derek growled. His hand slid over Stiles face and down to hold the side of his neck, squeezing lightly – the muscles of the neck were always sore, from holding the head up all day.
For once, Stiles kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, Derek guessed.
He didn’t disagree with that notion; without another word, he leaned back in to Stiles space, holding him in place with the hand on his neck and taking his air.
Stiles’ hands crept up his torso to rest on his chest, and the thing waiting inside of him sprung back to life, lighting his insides like a lantern and keeping him warmer – warmer than he usually was.
It demanded more – warmth to become warmer, closeness to become closer…
Reclining his chair so there was room to pull Stiles in his lap felt morally correct, as if Stiles was supposed to be there. It was a lock clicking when the right key turned.
There was a loud clanging noise that Derek identified as Stiles prosthetic leg bumping against the console as he slid across. For some reason, it made him laugh.
“Hey, it’s not funny!” Stiles protested, even though he was settling on top of him in a way that was contradicting his argument. Hopefully that meant he wasn’t too upset.
“Sorry,” Derek muttered, though he couldn’t help grinning.
Of course, he’d be laughing – he’d finally caved into the nagging thoughts that hung over him constantly.
“Sure, you are,” Stiles grumbled, before pressing his lips against Derek’s again.
He was an enigma – Derek didn’t think he’d ever figure him out.
But he’d be privileged to keep trying.