Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12854748.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Sheriff_Stilinski, Laura_Hale, Cora_Hale,
      Peter_Hale, Jennifer_Blake
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Student/Teacher, Teacher_Derek, Student_Stiles,
      Underage_Sex, Unhealthy_Relationships, Codependency, Mates_Derek_Hale/
      Stiles_Stilinski, Werewolf_Mates, Werewolf_Reveal, Obsessive_Behavior,
      Touch-Starved_Stiles_Stilinski, Bad_Parent_Sheriff_Stilinski, Benign
      Neglect, Alive_Laura_Hale, Pre-Canon, Grooming, Dubious_Consent,
      Unreliable_Narrator
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-29 Updated: 2018-03-06 Chapters: 6/? Words: 14817
****** There Is a Field ******
by TheBadPlace
Summary
     Fresh out of his student teaching experience, Derek feels drawn back
     to Beacon Hills for the first time since he and his sisters ran seven
     years ago. Laura and Cora don’t understand his insistence on
     returning to the place where they lost nearly everything, and Derek
     can’t say he really understands it either. Until his first day as a
     teacher at Beacon Hills High, when a twelve-year-old genius with big
     brown eyes and a ridiculous name walks into his classroom and turns
     Derek’s entire world on its head.
Notes
     Warning: This fic features a relationship between an adult and a
     minor. Stiles is twelve years old when they meet, though there will
     be no sexual contact until he's at least fourteen. Please tread
     carefully if you have a hard time with underage sex and grooming
     behaviors.
     Additionally this is an exploration of the obsessive behaviors
     implied in the Mates trope. If you don't care for obsessive,
     codependent relationships treated as romantic, this is not the place
     for you. Please remember to take care of yourself. Don't read things
     that you know will upset you. <3
***** Chapter 1 *****
 Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I’ll meet you
                                there. -- Rumi
                                      ~~~
Derek’s nose wrinkled at the cocktail of clashing scents that assaulted him the
moment he walked into Beacon Hills High. He’d known what to expect, thanks to a
year of student teaching back in New York before he’d packed up his life and
moved back to the place he’d always reluctantly thought of as home. His sisters
couldn’t understand what would possess him to move back here, back to the place
where most of their family had been ripped away from them in the worst way, and
he couldn’t find a way to explain it. It just felt like something he had to do,
an instinct he couldn’t name drawing him home.
So here he was, for better or worse, doing his best to block out the jumble of
scents floating around the halls of the high school as it filled with students.
He made it to his own classroom and shut the door behind him, pausing to take a
deep, cleansing breath before he crossed to his desk and set down his
briefcase. There was a tiny, windowless office attached to his classroom, and
he knew as the rookie on staff he’d gotten the worst one in the building. But
he didn’t mind, because the lack of windows and the heavy wooden door meant it
would be easier to keep the stench of teenage hormones out of his private
space.
His sisters laughed at him every time he complained about it, back while they
were all still sharing an apartment in New York. He knew he’d brought it on
himself when he decided to teach high school instead of sticking with
elementary school, but he knew in the end he’d get bored if he couldn’t have
actual conversations with his students about the topics he was trying to drill
into their brains. Not that stimulating conversations were that easy to come by
in a high school history classroom, but at least they were more likely with
teenagers than they would be with a classroom full of little kids.
Then again, considering some of the conversations he’d had to endure during
just his first year of teaching, maybe he was being too optimistic. Still, he
was only 23, which, according to Laura, was way too young to be so jaded, so
Derek did his best to focus on the parts of his job he loved and set about
getting ready for the first day of teaching. He’d already been back at work
full time for the past two days, but today was the first day the students were
reporting, and he ignored the little flutter of nerves at the thought of facing
a bunch of strange teenagers all on his own.
His first couple classes went about as well as he could have hoped. He’d had to
separate a couple kids and there were one or two threats of detention, but he
hadn’t been forced to follow through on any of them. It wasn’t like teachers
enjoyed detention any more than the kids – at least most teachers didn’t –
especially on the first day when there wasn’t any grading to keep him occupied.
So he was just as glad not to have to hang around to babysit unruly teenagers
after school.
Not that he had any plans for after school. He hadn’t bothered trying to make
friends since he moved back to town, and aside from his colleagues he barely
spoke to anyone. The building where his renovated loft was located had been
owned by his family for years, so Derek didn’t even have to deal with overly
friendly neighbors. It was for the best when his family had a secret as big as
theirs, and especially when he was currently living more or less as an omega.
Unlike his sisters he’d always been happy enough with his own company, so he
didn’t mind the solitude.
Besides, he spent his whole day surrounded by people, so he needed the time
alone to recover from all the stimulation of his work day. Even his sisters
could understand that, whether they wanted to admit it or not.
Derek was on his last class before lunch, thinking longingly of the forty-five
minutes of quiet ahead of him when his classroom door opened and he was hit
with a scent like nothing he’d ever smelled before. It was soft and a little
muted, as though maybe the person giving off the scent hadn’t fully grown into
it yet. There were layers of anxiety and sadness muting it even more, and Derek
wanted to push through all that and bury his nose in the scent, to get at the
core of it where he could take it in undiluted.
He wanted to close his eyes, to savor the mixture of crushed fallen leaves,
fresh cut grass and a little hint of rain. There was the sugary sweetness of
youth underlying the other scents, and the combination made him think home in a
way that his actual childhood home never had. It hit him suddenly that
this...this was why he was called back here, to the site of his pack’s demise.
Mate. The word floated to mind unbidden, making his breath catch in his throat
and his heart stutter in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. He spared a
moment to imagine Laura’s reaction to the news, to the way she’d laugh when he
told her that he came all the way back to California to discover that the one
person in the world who was meant just for him was a student in his World
History class.
His freshman class, and the realization hit him in the solar plexus at the
thought that his mate was nearly a decade his junior. God, Laura was going to
have a field day with this when he told her. And it wasn’t as though he could
get away with not telling her, at least not for long. She was still his Alpha
regardless of the fact that she was living in New York, and even if she never
came back to claim their ancestral territory, she’d always be his Alpha.
One more deep breath and Derek looked up in time to watch a slight figure with
hunched shoulders dart between the rows of desks to claim a seat in the very
back of the room. The kid’s scent wafted back to Derek as he moved, the smell
of anxiety spiking even more sharply when he looked up from his desk to find
Derek watching him.
His eyes were huge and brown, wider still with his fear and Derek couldn’t help
thinking of a fawn in the forest, separated from its mother and scenting a
predator on the prowl. That was exactly what it felt like, and Derek had to
stop himself from stalking past the rows of desks to claim his prey. Instead he
glanced down at his class roster, and when he reached the end he felt his heart
drop into his stomach. Because this kid looked young, even for a freshman, and
the minute Derek spotted the name on his list he understood why.
The principal had let them know during their first full staff meeting just two
days ago that they’d have a younger student this year, a kid so smart he’d been
encouraged to skip a couple grades, leaving him just twelve years old and
tossed into a sea of teenage hormones without a friend in the world. The staff
were supposed to keep an eye on him, not just to make sure his mind was being
challenged in the classes his body was way too young for, but his brain was
probably already ahead of. They were supposed to watch out for his educational
needs, sure, but they were also supposed to keep an eye out to make sure he
wasn’t being bullied by kids who were older than him and already focused on
finding and destroying the weakest member of the herd.
Just looking at him Derek was pretty sure that was happening already, maybe
started even before the kid got to high school, because even when he was in a
class with kids his own age, he’d been smarter than all of them. That never
went unpunished, Derek knew, even if he’d never had to deal with it firsthand.
It would have made him want to wrap the kid up in warm blankets and keep him
safe from the world even if he didn’t smell like he was tailor-made for Derek.
The fact that this was his mate, this child with big eyes and a cloud of
sadness hanging over him made Derek wonder what he’d done that was so wrong the
universe just had to keep fucking him over.
“You’re Miec...” Derek stumbled over the name, wincing even as he wondered who
in their right mind would do that to a kid.
“Stiles,” the kid said in a voice so soft Derek wouldn’t have heard it if it
wasn’t for his supernatural hearing.
“Sorry?” he said, just to hear the kid talk again. And God, this was just
perfect, because the kid was twelve years old and Derek still wanted to bury
his nose in that pale neck and just breathe in for the rest of his life.
“Call me Stiles. Nobody says...that other name,” he answered, voice a little
stronger. By the end of the sentence he sounded almost defiant, as though he
was expecting to be challenged for the right to choose what he wanted to be
called.
Instead of arguing Derek just nodded, then he flashed a small, rare smile at
the kid. “Got it. Stiles it is.”
He didn’t smile back, but he lost a little of the tension in his shoulders, so
Derek counted it as a victory. He wanted to see the kid – Stiles – smile, but
he’d take what he could get. After all, they had the rest of their lives to get
to know each other, and Derek was going to have to wait a long time before he
did half the things he wanted to do with this kid.
The thing was, Derek knew exactly who his mate was. Or more importantly, he
knew who Stiles’ father was, and that made everything even more precarious. It
had been Deputy Stilinski who’d stopped him from running into the house to burn
with his family during the fire, and it had been Sheriff Stilinski the
principal lectured them about two days ago when he was cautioning the staff to
keep an eye on the Sheriff’s kid. It wouldn’t look good for any of them if they
let any harm befall the Sheriff’s kid on their watch, and if anyone caught wind
of what Derek was thinking right now, he’d be out on his ass faster than he
could say ‘pedophile’.
Not that he was planning to touch the kid, at least not like that. Still, Derek
wanted to get a lot closer to Stiles than most people would be comfortable
with, especially since he couldn’t explain why he felt the need to scent the
kid and mark him so any other wolf who happened along would know exactly who
Stiles belonged to.
But even more than worrying about getting himself fired, Derek had no desire to
spook his mate, so he promised himself that he’d keep his hands to himself no
matter how hard it was. That didn’t mean he couldn’t look out for Stiles,
though, make sure none of the other students gave him trouble and be there so
that Stiles knew he had an adult he could come to when he needed to talk. If
that was all he could have of Stiles for now he’d take it gladly, and maybe
once Stiles learned to trust him Derek could explain just why he’d taken such
an interest in the kid.
The classroom door opened again and Derek looked up to watch more students
stumble into the room. He saw the looks they shot the boy in the back row,
frowning when one of them giggled and elbowed the other before they chose seats
on the far side of the room. It didn’t make sense that two years should make
such a difference, but Derek was young enough to remember the way two years
felt like practically a lifetime when he was a kid. He’d spent a lot of time
feeling much more worldly and mature than his little sister, but in the end it
turned out that he was the one who’d needed sheltering from the evils of the
outside world.
Derek shook off the memory and glanced one more time at Stiles, his heart
sinking at the return of hunched shoulders and the way the boy stared down at
his desk so he wouldn’t have to look at the other kids. He wanted to tear down
the world to keep this boy – his boy – safe from harm, safe from whatever
sadness floated around him like a veil. They’d barely said a dozen words to
each other and he wanted to grab the kid and run away with him, to hide him
away from the world where nothing could ever hurt him again.
Yeah, he was definitely going to get himself fired before the end of the year.
***** Chapter 2 *****
When Laura called to ask how his first day as a Real Live Teacher went, Derek
didn’t tell her about Stiles. He wasn’t sure why, exactly. Maybe part of him
was worried that as soon as Laura found out his mate was not only a student,
but a preteen, she’d fly right out to California and drag him back to New York
by his ear. Maybe she’d even be right to do it, but that didn’t mean he wanted
to leave his mate all alone now that he’d found him. Not when he smelled so
sad, with undercurrents of fear and loneliness that made Derek wonder just what
the hell his home life was like.
The Sheriff had seemed like a good man when Derek met him, back when he was
still a kid himself, but he knew better than most that looks could be
deceiving. He also knew that it was easy for law enforcement officials,
particularly ones who were well-liked in their community, to hide a multitude
of sins behind closed doors. He didn’t want to believe it of Stiles’ father,
but he wasn’t willing to take any chances with his mate, either.
So maybe he hadn’t told Laura about finding his mate because he knew eventually
she’d figure out how he was spending his free time these days. She’d find out,
and then she would make him leave town. Or worse, she’d make him talk to the
Sheriff, and there was no way that conversation was going to go well. Even if
he believed Derek about werewolves and the instinctive need to protect the
person his wolf recognized as mate, there was no way the Sheriff was going to
be okay with the idea of Derek’s mate being his very underage son.
Which was exactly why Derek was keeping his distance, using his natural
instincts for stealth to keep an eye on the Stilinski house outside of school
hours. He wouldn’t classify what he was doing as stalking, exactly, because he
only wanted to make sure Stiles was safe and that nothing was happening behind
closed doors that shouldn’t be. If that meant hanging out just inside the tree
line behind the house, or occasionally scaling the back of the house for a
better vantage point into Stiles’ room, well. What the Sheriff and Laura didn’t
know wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
The first time he heard Stiles crying quietly all alone in his room, it took
everything in Derek not to climb through the window to comfort him. That would
definitely get him arrested, but worse than that, it would ensure that Stiles
never trusted him, and there was no way Derek was going to risk that. He didn’t
know why Stiles was crying, but after a week of observation he knew that Stiles
spent an awful lot of time alone.
There didn’t appear to be any mother in the picture, and his father worked a
lot more than a single parent of a preteen really should. Especially
considering Stiles was a genius recently thrust into a sea of kids who were all
older than he was, and it didn’t seem as though he had the emotional support at
home to help him adjust.
Derek’s parents had both worked when he was a kid, but one of them always made
sure to be around for their kids at dinner time and on the weekends. They never
left Derek and his sisters to their own devices, and if his own parents
couldn’t be there, he had plenty of aunts and uncles to fill in the gaps. It
wasn’t that his family was perfect – he still managed to get tangled up with an
older hunter and avoid detection long enough to get most of his family killed,
after all – but there was never a question of how much they cared about their
kids.
He couldn’t say for sure that the Sheriff didn’t care about his own son, but if
he did he was pretty bad at showing it. Derek had watched Stiles come home to
an empty house every night during the first week of school, and on a few of
those nights it was long past dinner time and well into night when the Sheriff
finally made an appearance. One night he turned up long after Stiles had fallen
asleep only to wake him up and bundle him into the back of his squad car before
driving away again. Derek didn’t follow to see where Stiles was taken, but he
noticed the slightly darker than usual circles under Stiles’ eyes in class the
next day.
It was the third week of school when Derek scent marked him for the first time.
It was the second time Stiles had come into his classroom looking exhausted and
defeated, and all Derek wanted to do was scoop him up and take him back to his
loft where he could tuck Stiles into his big bed and let him sleep for as long
as he needed. But that was out of the question, so instead he paused while
handing back the quizzes he’d given the class on Monday to squeeze Stiles’
shoulder, two of his fingers just trailing along the bare skin of the boy’s
nape as he smiled down at him.
“Nice work,” he said, nodding at the 110 percent marked in red on the top of
his paper. Stiles hadn’t smiled back at him, but his cheeks had flushed a
little, whether from Derek’s touch or the praise he wasn’t sure. It made him
want to keep doing both, but instead he let go of Stiles’ shoulder and kept
moving up the aisle until he reached the front of the classroom again.
The brief contact settled Derek a little, but he still didn’t have any answers
about Stiles’ home life or why he was always so sad. Which was how he found
himself in the office after school, loitering near the secretary’s desk and
trying to figure out a way to get his hands on Stiles’ file without seeming
suspicious. He wasn’t sure the answers were in there either, but at least it
was a place to start.
Derek was contemplating whether or not to try flirting with the secretary in
order to get what he wanted when the librarian walked in, a troubled frown
pulling her mouth down at the corners. “Here it is,” she said, waving a piece
of paper as though she expected the secretary to be waiting for it.
Apparently she was, because she let out a heavy sigh and reached across her
desk for it. “Are you sure it’s necessary?”
“You know I didn’t want to,” the librarian – Miss Stewart, Derek was pretty
sure – said, “but as much as I feel sorry for him, I can’t let him get away
with it. I know it’s hard for him, being away from kids his own age, but he
can’t eat lunch in the library every day. It’s our number one rule.”
The secretary nodded and flipped open a file sitting on her desk. Derek craned
his neck just enough to read the name along the edge: Stilinski, Mieczyslaw.
“That’s the original,” Miss Stewart said when the secretary started to tuck
what must be an incident report into Stiles’ file.
“Oh, of course. Just a minute,” the secretary said, then she stood up and
crossed the office to the room where they kept the copiers. Miss Stewart
wandered away to check her box at the same moment, and Derek didn’t waste any
time picking the file up off the secretary’s desk and flipping through it.
Most of it was incident reports from his old school, details of classroom
disruptions and complaints from teachers that he couldn’t sit still and they
had difficulty engaging him. The kid described in the file was nothing like the
scared, quiet boy Derek knew, and he flipped through more pages, searching for
the reason for such a drastic change.
He found it near the back of the file, a one-page report from the school
psychologist about Stiles’ emotional state after his mother’s death. The
details were thin, but Derek gathered from the vague notes that it had been a
long, drawn-out illness. She’d only died a year ago, according to the file, and
not long after that he’d been torn away from his friends and enrolled in the
high school.
At the sound of a door opening behind him Derek closed the file and dropped it
back on the desk. He stepped away just in time for the secretary to reappear,
her eyes narrowing at him. “Did you need something, Mr. Hale?”
“Just checking my box,” he answered, flashing his most charming smile, the one
that made his sisters roll their eyes because they knew exactly how fake it
was. It worked on anyone who didn’t know him, though, and the secretary was no
exception. He watched as the apples of her cheeks flushed, and she smiled back
in spite of herself.
“Of course,” she said, then she tucked the librarian’s incident report inside
Stiles’ file before she whisked it away to the giant filing cabinet in the
principal’s office.
Derek stopped to check his box, just for show, then he headed back to his
classroom to pick up his briefcase and head back to his loft. He ate dinner
leaning against the counter in his small kitchen, his mind on Stiles and the
image of him tucked up between the stacks in the library, hiding himself away
from the dangers of the high school cafeteria. Just the thought made Derek’s
heart ache. He could barely stand the thought of Stiles alone at home where he
was safe; imagining how alone he must feel at school was enough to make Derek
struggle for control over his wolf in a way he hadn’t since just after the
fire.
He wanted – no, he needed – to be there for Stiles, to take some of the burden
of sadness from his little mate. And why shouldn’t he? After all, if anyone
understood the depth of Stiles’ loss it was him, and who better to comfort him
than the one person who cared more for him than anyone else on earth? Since the
first moment Derek saw him he knew he’d spend the rest of his life living for
his mate, doing whatever he could to ensure that Stiles was happy and safe and
loved every minute. He was too young to understand right now, but at least
Derek could be there to look after him until he was ready to hear the truth.
***** Chapter 3 *****
By the next morning he had a plan. He had no idea if it would work, but at
least he had one. Stiles mostly kept quiet in his class, and Derek couldn’t
tell if the kid liked him at all, let alone trusted him. Still, he had to start
somewhere, and the conversation he’d overheard in the office yesterday had
given him the perfect in.
He left the loft early enough to swing by his favorite coffee shop on the way
into work, taking his time picking out a couple items from the pastry case
before he ordered a black coffee to go. His morning classes dragged in spite of
the extra dose of caffeine, and when World History rolled around he felt like
he might just crawl out of his skin. Derek managed to make it through the class
mainly by making his students take turns reading out loud from their textbook.
He knew World War I was going to be a hard sell, and when he had to stop every
few lines to explain some battle or remind them who a particular general was he
got the feeling not a lot of the lesson was sinking in.
Still, it was part of the curriculum, and if every other freshman in Beacon
Hills history had suffered through it, they could too. He wasn’t surprised to
see that Stiles kept up with the material better than most of the other
students in his class. He knew the kid was smart, and no matter how quiet he
was, there was no hiding his intelligence when it came to the weekly quizzes
Derek subjected his class to. Not that there had been many yet, but so far
Stiles had managed perfect grades on all of them, including the extra credit
questions.
The hour dragged so slowly Derek was sure it was never going to end, but
finally the bell rang and his students scrambled to pack up their things. Derek
watched Stiles moving more slowly than his classmates, dragging out the process
of packing up as though he was trying to delay the inevitable. Derek waited
until he finally stood up, eyes down as he made his way up the row of desks to
the front of the room.
“Stiles,” Derek said when he was even with the teacher’s desk. “I’d like to
have a word with you.”
Stiles glanced up at him, eyes wide and a little scared, and Derek’s heart
broke all over again. But Stiles just nodded and looked back down, so Derek
stood up from the teacher’s desk and gestured toward his office door. “Come
on.”
None of the other students waited around to make sure Stiles was okay. Derek
had been counting on that, even though he hated what that meant for his boy. He
shook off the thought and opened the door to his office, waving Stiles inside
and closing the door behind him before he took a seat at the smaller desk
inside.
“You’re not in trouble,” Derek said, flashing an encouraging smile when Stiles
looked up at him. “Sit down.”
Stiles sat, his bag hitting the floor next to him and his arms curling around
his waist like he was protecting himself. Derek frowned at the defensive
posture, but he shook it off as best he could and leaned forward to rest his
elbows on his desk.
“I ran into the librarian after school yesterday. She said she had to kick you
out.”
Stiles shrugged without quite meeting his eyes. Instead he glanced at the wall
where a window would be if anyone had bothered to put one in. Instead his gaze
fell on the framed photo of Central Park that Laura and Cora had gifted him
with before he left New York. They told him it was to remind him what he was
leaving behind, but the truth was he didn’t really miss the city. There was
safety in all that anonymity, he knew. That’s why Laura liked it there so much,
after all. But Derek spent his time there yearning for open spaces, for the
woods of the Preserve and the freedom to run without having to worry about who
he might happen upon.
“It’s a stupid rule,” Stiles said, defiant, and Derek didn’t bother to hide his
grin.
“Yeah, I always thought so too, when I was a student here.”
Stiles looked up at that, mouth open like maybe he was going to ask a question,
but then he pressed his lips together again and looked down at his knees.
“Your lunch period is right now?”
Stiles nodded without looking up, and it took all Derek’s strength to keep
himself from reaching over to curl his hand around the back of his boy’s neck
and draw him into his arms. He wanted to hold him close and keep him safe, but
if all he could get was a lunch period in Stiles’ company, he’d take it.
“Well, it’s my lunch period right now too, and I usually eat in my office. So
if you want, you can hang out here during lunch. I can’t offer quite as much
reading material as the library, but no one’s going to bother you.”
When Stiles looked up this time his eyes were wide, but instead of fear they
were shining with what Derek could only guess was hope. His scent shifted, some
of the ever-present anxiety fading to let his natural woods-grass-rain scent
shine through. “Really?”
“Really,” Derek answered, doing his best not to let his joy show too much. “In
fact, I’ll even share my dessert,” he said, pulling the pastry bag from the
coffee shop out of his desk and setting it in front of him. “Do you need to go
to your locker to get your lunch?”
Stiles shook his head and reached for his bag, pulling out a sandwich and a
slightly bruised apple. It was a pretty depressing lunch, and Derek found
himself plotting ways to get the kid to let Derek feed him more than just
dessert. He wasn’t going to press for too much too fast, though. The last thing
he wanted to do was scare Stiles away, not when he’d just figured out a way to
get closer.
He got out his own lunch while Stiles pulled a comic book out of his bag,
trying not to stare when he opened it on the corner of the desk and started
reading while he ate his sandwich. It wasn’t the conversation Derek would have
preferred, but he’d promised Stiles that no one would bother him here, and he
was going to keep that promise. And if he spent their lunch together breathing
in the scent of his mate, well, that wasn’t anyone’s business but his.
They fell into a routine pretty easily after that. Apparently baked goods was
the key to Stiles’ trust, because once Derek offered him the choice between a
brownie and a chocolate chip cookie nearly the size of his head, only to press
both of them on him in the end, Stiles seemed to accept that Derek wasn’t out
to hurt him. He stayed for lunch again the next day, anyway, and by the end of
the week they’d had an actual conversation.
“DC, huh?” Derek had said the second time Stiles pulled out a Batman comic and
settled in with his sandwich. “I was always more of a Marvel fan, myself.”
Stiles had shrugged, but he’d looked up at Derek from under his long eyelashes,
and Derek had to grip his thighs tight to keep from reaching out and touching.
“I like Marvel, but Batman’s cool.”
Derek had nodded and smiled down into his thermos of soup. “He is. But Captain
America’s pretty cool too.”
“Yeah, but he had to get injected with super soldier serum to be a superhero,”
Stiles said, eyes lighting up in a way Derek had never seen before. “Batman’s
just a regular guy, but he still saves people and fights off the bad guys. Like
my dad.”
Derek didn’t point out the fact that Batman had a lot of money and all kinds of
gadgets that weren’t available to the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department. It was
clearly important to the kid to believe that regular people could be heroes,
and Derek wasn’t going to take that away from him. If he needed to believe that
his dad was a hero, out fighting crime and saving the city from bad guys, then
Derek was happy to go along with it. Maybe that was the only way Stiles could
explain the fact that his father left him to his own devices more often than
not, that at twelve years old he was already taking care of himself in ways no
kid should have to.
Derek knew what it felt like to lose a parent, and he wasn’t surprised Stiles
would cling to the idea of his remaining parent, even if his dad wasn’t exactly
clinging to him. Most of Derek was sad that Stiles didn’t seem to have anyone
in his life to lean on, to notice that he was having a hard time and offer him
comfort. But there was a darker, possessive part of him that was glad, because
it meant he could be all those things for his mate. He just had to get Stiles
to trust him, and then Derek would offer him the world.
The first Saturday after Stiles started having lunch in his office, Derek found
the local comic book shop. It was the same one he frequented when he was a
teenager, back before his entire life imploded. The kid working the register
was too young to remember him, and Derek was glad, because the last thing he
wanted to do was make small talk about why he was still reading comics at his
age.
He poked around the store for nearly an hour, picking up titles he recognized
along with some new ones he thought looked interesting. By the time he headed
back to the register, he had a bigger pile than he’d planned, consisting of a
few serials and some graphic novels he’d enjoyed when he was younger.
“Did you want to start a box?” the kid behind the counter asked, eyeing the
stack in Derek’s hands.
“No,” Derek said as he slid his purchases onto the counter to be rung up. He
considered asking if Stiles had a box, but before the words escaped him he
managed to stop himself. It was one thing to pick up a few titles he remembered
enjoying as a kid and passing them off as his own collection, but if he bought
whatever Stiles had put aside for himself, there was no way he could claim it
was a coincidence.
Then there was the possibility, however remote, that somehow Derek’s interest
in the Sheriff’s kid might get back to the Sheriff himself. Chances were the
bored teenager behind the counter of the comic book shop didn’t know or care
about the Sheriff, but it was a small enough town that Derek wasn’t willing to
take the chance. Even if the wrong person overheard him it could spell trouble,
and the last thing Derek wanted was to draw attention to himself.
So he paid for his purchases and headed back out to his car, tucking them
carefully in the trunk before he pulled back into Saturday morning traffic and
headed for the hospital. He’d visited his uncle every Saturday since he came
back to Beacon Hills. The first couple visits were quiet and awkward and left
Derek gripped with guilt for the rest of the weekend, but once he thought to
bring a book and read to Peter it got a little easier to see him.
He hadn’t talked much about his job or his students, and he definitely hadn’t
mentioned meeting his mate. The idea of saying it out loud still felt
dangerous, even when there was no chance of Peter repeating what Derek said to
anyone. So far the closest he’d gotten to sharing secrets was apologizing to
Peter, for leaving him behind and for getting most of their family killed in
the first place.
It had taken his sisters a long time to convince him they didn’t blame him for
what Kate did, and there were plenty of days when he still felt as though he’d
never get the blood off his hands. There were days even now when he felt like
he didn’t deserve the happiness of finding his mate, when he worried that just
by being around Stiles that he’d find a way to ruin him. But he’d never been
selfless, and he wasn’t going to give up Stiles when it was clear that he
didn’t have anyone else to look out for him.
“Hello, Peter,” Derek said when he reached his uncle’s room. Peter was seated
in his wheelchair, pointed toward the window with the same vacant expression on
his face he’d worn every time Derek had visited. He ignored the familiar tug of
guilt in his gut and pulled a chair close to Peter, reaching for the book he’d
left on the table near the window and holding it in his hands without opening
it.
“How are you today?” he asked, even though he knew he wouldn’t get an answer.
It had felt a little silly talking to Peter at first, especially given how
often Derek talked on a normal basis. But Peter’s nurse had told him on his
first visit that talking might help with his recovery, and after leaving him on
his own for so long, Derek figured it was the least he could do. Reading was a
good compromise, but for some reason today he was too restless to slog through
another chapter of The Goldfinch.
“So I have news,” Derek said, lowering his voice to make sure none of the
hospital staff overheard. “I haven’t told anyone else, not even Laura. I’m
afraid if I do that she’ll try to make me go back to New York.”
He took a deep breath and glanced toward the door to Peter’s room, but it was
still closed tight. “I found my mate a few weeks ago. He’s one of my students.”
Derek let out a sound that could have passed for a laugh and ran the hand that
wasn’t still clutching the book through his hair. “He’s so young, Uncle.
Younger even than my other students. And he’s smart…they moved him up a couple
grades because his old teachers couldn’t keep up with him.”
He looked up at his uncle again, but Peter’s expression hadn’t changed at all.
It was exactly what Derek expected, and somehow Peter’s lack of response made
it a little easier to keep talking. “If Laura finds out how young he is she
might make me leave. It’s what Mom would have done, I know. But I can’t leave
him alone, not when he doesn’t have anyone else. He lost his mother just last
year, and his father…”
Derek paused again and blew out a hard breath. He wished his own parents were
here. Even if they told him he had to stay away from Stiles, at least they’d
have some idea how to help him with the overwhelming loneliness Derek could
smell on him every day. Even if they sent Derek away and took Stiles into the
pack instead, that would be better than thinking of him on his own in his
father’s house, mourning his mother alone.
But his parents were gone, and Derek only had himself to blame. He didn’t even
deserve a mate after what he’d done to his family. Then again, Stiles didn’t
deserve to lose his mom, and he didn’t deserve a father who barely even came
home long enough to make sure his kid was still alive. So maybe having such a
young mate to take care of was penance, in a way, and if that was the case
Derek would do it gladly.
“His father’s the Sheriff,” Derek finally said. He knew he was imagining the
slight tick in one of Peter’s eyes, but Derek nodded anyway. “I know. But I’ve
been watching, and he barely spends any time with the kid. He’s hardly ever
home, and Stiles spends all his time rattling around in their house by himself.
He’s so alone, Uncle.”
Like me, he didn’t add, mostly because Derek’s loneliness was his own fault. If
he wanted company he knew how easy it would be to find, knew what he looked
like, and he knew how people reacted when he mustered up what his sisters
referred to as his ‘panty-dropping’ grin. Which was pretty weird, coming from
his sisters, so he tried not to think about it. And anyway, he wasn’t
interested in hooking up with anyone, much less finding some random, age-
appropriate stranger to invade his private space and talk to him about things
he didn’t care about.
“I guess we can both relate to that,” Derek said with a sad smile in Peter’s
direction. “Maybe someday you’ll get a chance to meet him. I bet you’d like
him, he’s smart enough to keep up with you.”
Granted, Stiles was too young and wide-eyed to appreciate the Peter Derek had
known before the fire, the smart, sharp-witted cool uncle with a mean streak
that snuck up on you when you were least expecting it. But there had been a few
glimpses of the personality Stiles was hiding during their lunches together,
and just from the way Stiles argued about comic books, Derek had a feeling he’d
be able to hold his own against Peter before too long.
The thought made Derek smile for real this time, and he finally opened his book
to the place where they’d left off during his last visit. “That’s probably
enough about my boring life for one visit. Should we read some more?” he said,
then he launched into the story and did his best not to let his mind wander to
Stiles for a while.
He left the hospital a couple hours later, heading back to the loft to drop off
his purchases and change into running clothes. It was tempting to drive past
Stiles’ house, but he knew better than to let the neighbors get used to seeing
his car driving by. Eventually one of them would get suspicious enough to
mention it to the sheriff, and if they got a license plate number Derek would
find himself on the wrong end of a conversation he really didn’t want to have.
Instead he ran through town, keeping his speed to human levels until he hit the
woods and left any prying eyes behind. He steered clear of the walking paths
where he might run into hikers out for a day communing with nature. He stayed
clear of the shell of his family’s old house, too, sticking closer to town
instead, and he wasn’t at all surprised when he found himself in the woods just
behind the Stilinski house.
It still wasn’t stalking, not if he hadn’t meant to end up there. That’s what
he told himself as he leaned against a tree and stretched out his senses until
he found Stiles’ heartbeat, the familiar, too-fast rhythm settling him in a way
nothing else ever had. Maybe he should be worried about the quick beat of
Stiles’ heart, but he hoped that the Sheriff at least took his son to a doctor
on a regular basis. The thought made Derek wonder all over again what illness
had killed Mrs. Stilinski, if it was hereditary and if it was something the
bite could cure.
It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered if Stiles would want the bite, once he
knew everything there was to know about being a werewolf. The thought made
something in his chest tighten, and he had to push away thoughts of Paige and
all the guilt that came with her memory. Losing her had left him broken and
vulnerable, but losing Stiles…he didn’t think he’d survive that.
Derek laughed to himself at the idea that he could be so attached to a kid he
barely knew. Even Laura would laugh at him, mate or not, if she saw him
carrying on like this over someone more than ten years younger than him. But
Stiles was his mate, and that meant Derek didn’t have to be rational.
He listened a little harder and found a second heartbeat, slow and steady in a
rhythm that sounded like sleep. The Sheriff must be home, must have worked a
late shift the night before to be napping in the middle of a Saturday. Which
meant Stiles was alone again, even with his father at home. Just for a second
Derek let himself entertain the fantasy of climbing up to Stiles’ bedroom
window, slipping inside to see him even with his father sleeping in the next
room. Or better yet, grabbing Stiles and taking him away, back to his loft or
maybe all the way out of town, across the country until they were safe in New
York with his pack.
But Derek knew better, knew what Laura’s reaction would be if he showed up with
a kidnapped preteen. He could even imagine Stiles’ reaction, because his father
might not spend much time with him, but it was obvious from the few times
Stiles had mentioned him that he loved the man. Even if it was just the idea of
him that Stiles loved, he wouldn’t thank Derek for taking him away from the
only home he knew. So Derek forced himself to turn away from the house,
slipping back into the woods to make his way through the trees and home.
***** Chapter 4 *****
It hardly took Stiles any time at all to spot the stack of comics in Derek’s
office during lunch on Monday. Granted, Derek hadn’t gone to any lengths at all
to hide them. He’d thought about it, but even if Stiles believed they were just
titles from Derek’s own childhood collection, it was still obvious Derek had
brought them in for him.
“These were some of my favorites when I was a kid. Thought you might like to
check them out.”
Stiles eyed him with something almost like suspicion for a moment, but before
Derek could wonder why he was looking down at the desk, sifting through the
pile. “Thanks.”
Derek smiled, pleased at the light in Stiles’ eyes as he scanned each title.
When Stiles paused over a Wolverine comic Derek forced back a laugh. Maybe it
was a little too on the nose, but it wasn’t like Stiles was going to get the
joke until Derek explained it, and that wouldn’t happen for a while yet.
“You like X-Men?” Stiles darted half a glance in Derek’s direction before going
back to perusing the titles with studied indifference, so Derek was free to
watch the way his eyes roamed over the titles without really seeing them.
“I used to, when I was your age. Can’t say I’ve read any of them in a while.”
Stiles nodded and glanced toward the picture of Central Park the way he did
whenever he was about to say something Derek was pretty sure he didn’t want to
say.
“I’ve seen a couple of the movies. Not the latest one. I was supposed to go
with my friend Scott, but…” He paused, neck flushing and it was all Derek could
do not to reach out and feel the heat of his skin. “He’s got other friends now.
I guess he went with them.”
The scent of loneliness spiked high enough to make Derek’s nose wrinkle. It
made him want to find this Scott kid and tear him apart, even though he knew it
wasn’t really his fault. He was just a kid, and he was going to spend time with
the other kids who were around him all day at school. It was no surprise that
Stiles going to high school meant his friends had pretty much forgotten about
him, but it didn’t make the look on Stiles’ face any less heartbreaking.
Derek felt helpless – that he couldn’t protect Stiles from the other students,
that he couldn’t offer him the comfort he wanted to, that he couldn’t even
offer to do something as simple as take him to the movies. It made him wish all
over again for his mother. She’d know what to do, how to reach the Sheriff, or,
failing that, how to work around him and bring Stiles into a family that would
love him the way he deserved. She’d never been one for taking in strays, but
there was no way she’d leave Derek’s mate on his own when even his friends had
turned their backs on him.
Even Laura would know better than him what to do, and maybe if she were here
Derek would tell her about Stiles and let her take over. But she wasn’t, and
she had no interest in coming home to reclaim their land, so there was no point
in telling her what was going on.
“Hey, I almost forgot,” Derek said, steering the conversation away from all the
things they’d both lost as he reached into his desk for the giant chocolate-
dipped rice krispy treat he’d picked up at the coffee shop. He pushed it across
the desk, smiling when Stiles reached out to take it.
“Thanks,” he said, head still down, but there was a little twitch at the corner
of his mouth, so Derek counted it as a win.
They’d had lunch together every day for a month when they were nearly caught
for the first time. Derek was leaning forward on his desk, elbows resting on
the worn wood and a soft smile on his face while he listened to Stiles telling
a story about hanging around the police station, hiding under his dad’s desk
with a stack of comics and unknowingly causing a panic when he fell asleep and
no one could find him.
He was so caught up in picturing an even younger Stiles causing an uproar among
the deputies that he almost missed the sound of his classroom door opening.
When he registered the noise Derek’s stomach dropped, and he stood up and
rounded the small desk to rest a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Stay here a minute.
I’ll be right back.”
He shut the office door tight behind him, partly to make sure whoever was in
his classroom didn’t see Stiles, and partly to keep their mingled scents sealed
in the room the way they’d been since that first lunch a month ago.
When he looked up Jennifer Blake was standing in the middle of his classroom, a
sweet smile on her face. Derek checked the urge to roll his eyes; even if he
couldn’t smell the lust coming off her, she wasn’t exactly subtle about her
interest.
“So this is where you hide every day.”
“Well, it is my classroom,” he said, forcing himself not to glance back over
his shoulder toward the office where Stiles was waiting. “Is there something I
can do for you, Miss Blake?”
“Please, call me Jennifer. Actually I was sort of elected to come and check on
you.”
“Check on me?” He repeated, one eyebrow raIsed in question.
“It’s silly, really,” she said with a musical little laugh any other man might
have found charming. But Derek wasn’t interested in charming, even if he didn’t
have a mate reading comic books in the next room. “It’s just that you’re new,
and some of the teachers were worried that you didn’t feel welcome, since we
never see you in the teachers’ lounge for lunch. So I was elected to come
extend the invitation.”
“Well, thanks for the invite, but my planning period falls right after lunch,
so I’d just as soon use the whole thing to work,” he answered, doing his best
to smile politely without seeming like he was inviting more overtures.
For just a second she looked a little crestfallen, but she bounced back almost
immediately with another warm smile. “You shouldn’t be working through your
lunch, Derek, don’t you know that’s how teachers burn out?”
He thought about pointing out that he hadn’t given her permission to call him
by his first name, but it didn’t seem worth the effort. Instead he flashed
another tight-lipped smile and edged around her to pull the classroom door
open. “I’ll take it under advisement. But for now I have papers to grade so I
don’t have to take them home with me, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” she said, lips pursed as she tried to hide her disappointment.
Derek could smell it rolling off her in waves, but he did his best not to
wrinkle his nose when she brushed just a little too close on her way out the
door. “If you change your mind…”
“I know where to find you,” Derek said, then he let the door swing closed.
He waited another few beats, just to make sure she didn’t make up an excuse to
come back, then he turned back to his office and Stiles. When he pulled the
door open the scent of anxiety spiked, and Derek had to pause and take a breath
before he closed the door and sat back down.
“Everything okay?” he asked, frowning at the way Stiles had sort of curled into
himself.
“Are you going to get in trouble because I’m in here?” Stiles asked, voice
small, and Derek realized he was afraid that he was about to be kicked out of
another safe space.
“No,” Derek said with maybe a little more conviction than was really warranted,
but he wasn’t planning to get caught, so everything would be fine. “Obviously
we shouldn’t advertise our friendship, but we’re not doing anything wrong,
okay?”
Stiles didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded anyway and went back to
his lunch. Gone was the smiling boy with the twinkle in his eye from a few
minutes ago, though, and Derek wanted to march down to Miss Blake’s classroom
and rip out her throat for upsetting his boy.
“Hey,” he said, reaching out to cover Stiles’ hand with his where it was fisted
on the edge of the desk. It was the first time Derek had risked touching beyond
a hand on his shoulder or a brush of fingers as he handed over part of his
lunch, but the contact uncoiled something tight inside of him, and he knew that
from that moment on, he’d be looking for reasons to touch.
“Everything’s going to be fine, okay? Besides, I think Miss Blake just wanted
an excuse to come in here and stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“That was Miss Blake?” Stiles said, glancing toward the door. Derek couldn’t
tell by his tone what that reaction meant, but he slowly forced himself to let
go of Stiles’ hand and sit back.
“Yes. Do you have her for English?”
He nodded and looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers as though he was
remembering Derek’s touch. “The guys in my class say she’s the prettiest
teacher in school.”
Derek did his best not to react to that, because he knew it was unfair to be
hurt by a little crush on a pretty teacher when Stiles had no idea what Derek
was to him. Boys his age were supposed to have crushes on their teachers, after
all, so it was perfectly natural.
“She’s okay, I suppose,” Derek said carefully. “A bit too forward for my
taste.”
He forcibly suppressed a shudder at the memory of Kate, the way she’d come on
to him when he wasn’t that much older than Stiles, never taken no for an answer
even when part of him had wanted to refuse her. He’d known after the fire that
he’d have a hard time trusting women who weren’t his sisters for the rest of
his life, and that was another reason his little mate was so perfect.
Stiles stole another glance at him, cheeks dusted with a pink flush that made
Derek want to reach out and touch again. “Everybody knows she likes you. Some
of the guys say you’d be crazy not to go for it.”
It took everything in Derek not to tilt his head back and let out a triumphant
howl, because he recognized the scent coming off his boy now. Stiles was
jealous at the idea of Derek with someone else, before he even knew that they
were meant for each other, and that meant something in him was already
recognizing the mate bond.
He wanted to howl for joy, then he wanted to pull Stiles close and mark him so
the whole world would know he belonged to Derek. If Stiles was another wolf he
could, even as young as he was. But Stiles was human, so all Derek could do was
flash a grin and slide the chocolate chip cookies Derek had brought for him
across the desk.
“Well I can’t stop them from thinking it, I guess, but that doesn’t make it
true.”
“Did she want to have lunch with you?” Stiles asked, timid, as though maybe he
wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.
“I think so,” Derek admitted. When Stiles’ shoulders slumped just a little
Derek reached out again, swallowing a sigh when his fingers made contact with
Stiles’ cheek and he didn’t flinch away. “But it doesn’t matter, because I’m
already having lunch with a friend.”
The warm, pleased scent Stiles gave off at that made Derek want to howl all
over again, but he contented himself with a small smile at the sight of his
mate eating the food Derek had provided him for him as Stiles launched back
into another story, this one about the time in third grade when his friend
Scott had taken one look at the new girl and fallen head over heels in love.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warnings if you need them: There is brief nudity in this chapter, but
     no sexual contact or thoughts.
The rest of the week went by pretty much as usual, until Friday came and there
was no Stiles sitting in the back of his World History class.
He’d noticed Stiles’ anxiety ratcheting up more and more as the days passed
since Jennifer nearly caught them, but Derek had just assumed that he was
worried about losing another safe space to spend his lunch period. Now that
Stiles wasn’t in class he couldn’t help imagining what else could be happening
to cause so much anxiety, and he was so distracted with kicking himself for not
paying close enough attention that he barely made it through class.
He pictured his little mate being cornered by some of the older boys, teased
and maybe even injured, hiding out somewhere for fear the boys would come back
to finish what they started. Or worse, hurt enough that he couldn’t even get to
help, scared and all alone and thinking no one would even notice he was
missing.
It was a struggle to rein in his wolf enough to think logically when the
prospect of an injured mate was making it pace and snarl, but he managed to
make it to the bell without losing control. Once the last of his students filed
out Derek headed to the office, just to make sure Stiles had been officially
called in sick so he wouldn’t give in to the urge to tear the building apart
looking for him.
When he reached the office there was a line of students and even a couple
teachers milling around. Derek scowled at the crowd and pushed through the line
of students, headed for the attendance desk. He could hear Finstock arguing
with the principal in the background, but he shut out the sound as best he
could and looked around for the secretary who handled attendance.
There was no sign of her, and Derek barely suppressed a growl as he turned to
shove his way back through the crowded office and hunt her down. He’d barely
gone three steps when he heard Finstock’s voice again, and Derek remembered
Stiles complaining about having Finstock first period and how it had to be
violating the United Nations Convention Against Torture to force that on him
first thing in the morning.
Derek stopped and changed direction, barely registering the fact that Finstock
was still grumbling about something as he left the principal’s office and
headed for the teachers’ lounge.
“Coach,” Derek said, forcing himself to sound as close to human as he could get
when the wolf was this close to the surface. “You’ve got Stiles first period,
right?”
“What the hell is a Stiles?” Finstock barked, staring at Derek like he’d
sprouted a second head, and Derek barely managed to keep his claws in check,
because seriously?
“The Sheriff’s kid. Was he in class this morning?”
“Oh, him,” Finstock said, frowning like he hadn’t bothered to notice whether or
not Stiles showed up for school. “God, that kid’s so quiet it’s like teaching a
ghost. It gives me the creeps.”
He shuddered and Derek let himself picture gutting the man where he stood. And
the thing was, he’d always liked Coach, but at the moment he was having a hard
time not killing him just to see if ghosts were actually real.
“But now that you mention it,” Finstock continued before Derek could make a
decision one way or the other, “he didn’t show up this morning. Why? Did he
skip out on a detention or something?”
“No,” Derek said, doing his best not to actually sag with relief. “I
just...we’re supposed to be keeping an eye on him, right? So I wanted to make
sure he was really absent and not being bullied somewhere.”
For a few seconds Finstock just looked at him like Derek had lost his mind,
then he shook his head and clapped him on the shoulder. “Listen, Hale, I always
liked you. You were a hell of a basketball player, whole team went to hell
after you left and they never did recover. So I’m going to give you some free
advice: Relax. These little bastards will eat you alive if they think you
actually give a damn about them. Trust me, you don’t want to give them that
kind of satisfaction.”
Thankfully he walked away without waiting for an answer, striding down the hall
still ranting about the lacrosse budget and the ungrateful bastards who had no
idea how much Finstock did for this school. It saved Derek the trouble of
tearing out his throat for speaking so callously about his mate, not to mention
the mess murdering the lacrosse coach would leave in the hallway.
The rest of the day was a struggle. His wolf paced restlessly, demanding over
and over that Derek drop everything and run to the Stilinski house to make sure
Stiles was okay. But he couldn’t do that, not without getting himself fired, so
Derek ignored the urge to abandon his classes and tear through the woods to
Stiles’ neighborhood. When the final bell rang he had no idea how he’d made it
through the day, but he didn’t waste any time packing up his things and locking
up his classroom.
When he stepped out of the school it was just starting to rain, the air turning
cold and the wind picking up to bite at his skin. He hurried to his car and
climbed in, then he drove as fast as he dared to the edge of Stiles’
neighborhood.
By the time he got there the rain was coming down steadily, but he parked his
car anyway and made his way through the woods until he reached the Stilinskis’
back yard. He reached out with his hearing, searching for the telltale sound of
his boy’s heartbeat, just a little faster than average, but still strong.
Instead he heard the slow, sleep-steady beat of a different heart, one he’d
come to recognize as the Sheriff. Derek frowned as he realized that the Sheriff
was home, but his son — who was supposed to be sick — wasn’t in the house.
It was a risk, especially with the Sheriff home, but Derek scaled the side of
the house anyway, hopping down onto the roof outside the room he knew belonged
to Stiles. He looked inside to make sure the room was as empty as his senses
told him it was, then he pushed the window open and slid inside.
Instantly he was surrounded by the scent of his mate, but there was a layer of
fresh sorrow covering his scent like a thick blanket. Derek swallowed against
the smell and slipped out of the room, down the hall to ease the Sheriff’s
bedroom door open. The scent of grief nearly choked him, coupled with the heavy
stench of stale whiskey.
He swallowed a growl at the thought of the Sheriff getting drunk and passing
out while his son was just down the hall drowning in his own grief. It was
tempting to kill the man where he lay, just to get Stiles away from him, but
Derek knew that would just make things worse for his mate. Stiles was already
grieving for his mother, Derek couldn’t force him to grieve for a father too.
Instead he backed out of the Sheriff’s room, then he followed the scent of
Stiles’ sorrow out of the house and into the rain. It should have been
impossible to follow his mate’s scent through the rain, but Derek had a pretty
good idea where he’d gone. He was all too familiar with how it felt to lose a
parent, after all, and he could guess what must be causing Stiles and his dad
to wallow in private misery today.
He drove slowly on the way to the cemetery, scanning the sidewalks in case
Stiles was already on his way back. He couldn’t be sure the rain hadn’t driven
him inside somewhere, but he pressed on anyway, pulling up to the cemetery just
as the rain really started to come down.
Any traces of Stiles’ scent were long gone by the time Derek stepped out of his
car, but there was a bike propped up against the wrought iron gate, and he wove
his way through headstones until he caught sight of a small figure hunched over
in front of a pale marble stone.
The rain was even heavier in this part of town, drenching his little mate and
making his clothes stick to his slight figure. He already looked small on a
good day, but now, soaked through and curled up on his mother’s grave, he
looked impossibly fragile. Derek’s heart thudded in his chest and he knelt down
next to Stiles, heedless of the wet grass under his knees as he reached out and
curled a hand around the back of Stiles’ head.
When he didn’t even look up at the touch Derek’s heart dropped, and he gathered
Stiles to his chest and finally -- finally -- wrapped his mate in his arms.
“Shh,” he whispered when Stiles made a wounded noise against his neck. “Shh,
sweetheart, it’s okay. Let’s get you out of the rain.”
Derek lifted him without any effort at all, pushing up off his knees and
holding Stiles close as he headed back to his car. Once he had Stiles settled
in the passenger seat Derek crouched down next to him, wiping rain away from
his face. “Is that your bike over there?”
The only answer he got was a vague nod, but it was enough for Derek. He
fastened the seat belt around his boy before he closed the door, then he picked
up the bike and fit it into his trunk. It only took a couple minutes, but when
he finally slid into the driver’s seat and found Stiles shivering he wished
he’d thought to turn on the heater right away.
Derek swallowed a curse and started the car, turning the heat on full blast
before he backed out of the lot and headed for his loft. The thought that he
should probably take Stiles back to his dad floated into Derek’s head, but he
dismissed it as quickly as it occurred to him. He wasn’t going to take a
grieving kid back to a house with no one to look after him except for a drunk
father. Derek had no idea what the Sheriff was like when he was drunk, but he
wasn’t willing to take the risk when Stiles was soaked through and practically
catatonic.
He pulled up in front of his building, thankful once again for the lack of
neighbors. He could only imagine what people would say if they spotted the new
high school teacher lifting the Sheriff’s son out of a car and carrying him
into the building as though he was a baby. Luckily the same rain that was
probably going to give Stiles pneumonia was keeping everyone else inside, so
there was no one around to spot them as they went inside.
He carried Stiles straight up the stairs to the top floor, being careful not to
jostle him when he unlocked his door and slid it open. He didn’t bother
shutting it behind them, just carried Stiles into the bathroom and set him down
carefully on the closed toilet seat. Through it all Stiles didn’t make a sound,
not even to ask how Derek had found him or where he’d been brought.
He seemed willing to go along with whatever Derek did, whether because their
mate bond let him know he was safe or if he was just too consumed by grief to
know what was happening, Derek couldn’t tell. It was terrifying, thinking of
who might have come along before Derek showed up and taken Stiles to do who
knows what. But he was here with Derek, and he was safe, and Derek just had to
keep reminding himself of that.
“We need to get you warmed up, okay?” he said. “I’m going to draw you a bath,
then I’ll get some dry clothes for you to change into.”
Stiles didn’t react to his words, but he didn’t argue when Derek started the
bath and then turned back to Stiles and started pulling off his wet clothes.
His red hoodie was first, too thin for the chill in the air, then the flannel
he wore under it. His t-shirt clung to him like a second skin, and it took a
few tries before Derek managed to work the wet fabric over his head.
Through it all Stiles didn’t react, didn’t move at all except to shiver when
the cool air hit his skin. Derek paused and knelt in front of him, hands on the
soaked denim covering Stiles’ thighs. “I’m going to take your jeans off now,
but I want you to know that you’re safe here. Nothing bad is going to happen to
you.”
When Stiles didn’t answer Derek swallowed a sigh, then he leaned up and pressed
a kiss to Stiles’ forehead. It was probably a bit too much, but Stiles seemed
so out of it that Derek felt it was worth the risk to offer that small bit of
comfort to both of them.
Getting Stiles out of his jeans was a little tricky, but he managed to inch the
wet denim down along with Stiles’ briefs until finally he was naked and
shivering in Derek’s bathroom. He kept his gaze focused on Stiles’ face as much
as possible, and when he was finally undressed Derek picked him up and
carefully lowered him into the warm bath.
Once Stiles was submerged in warm water up to his chest Derek ran a hand over
his hair, letting it curve around the back of his skull for a moment before he
stood up. “I’m going to go get you some dry clothes, then I’ll throw yours in
the dryer. I’ll be right back.”
He paused long enough to scoop up Stiles’ wet clothes, then he headed for the
washer and dryer tucked in a closet just off his small kitchen. He stripped off
his own wet clothes and tossed them in the dryer too before he made his way
back upstairs to his bedroom.
Derek didn’t like leaving his mate alone even for a few minutes, not while he
was so distressed. But he needed something to wear once he got out of the bath,
and Derek knew he needed to put on some clothes too. The last thing he wanted
was to scare Stiles, to make him think Derek was only interested in him because
he wanted to take advantage of his loneliness.
So he ignored his wolf’s insistence that skin to skin contact was the best way
to bond and pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt before he found his smallest
pajama pants and a hoodie he knew would dwarf his little mate. Derek’s clothes
would be too big, but they’d warm him up, and they’d leave Stiles blanketed in
Derek’s scent. Just the thought made his wolf yip in delight as he hurried back
to the bathroom to check on Stiles.
He was still sitting just where Derek left him, knees up to his chest and his
arms wrapped around them like he was holding himself together. It broke Derek’s
heart to see him like this, so small in a way he hadn’t been since those first
few weeks of school. He wanted to ask what Stiles had been doing out in the
cemetery all alone, why he hadn’t been in school and what had happened with his
father.
Instead he knelt next to the tub and reached for a clean washcloth, running
warm water over his shoulders and the back of his neck. He cleaned rain and
tears and little flecks of mud from riding his bike in the rain off Stiles’
face, then he ran a hand over Stiles’ scalp again. He kept up a soothing
pattern of fingers through his boy’s short hair until he finally stopped
shivering, then Derek sat back on his heels.
“What do you think? Ready to get out? I’ve got some hot cocoa around here
somewhere.”
He wasn’t really expecting an answer, so he was surprised when his mate nodded
and let Derek pull the plug to drain the tub. Stiles stayed quiet while Derek
lifted him out of the tub and dried him off, once again keeping his gaze
focused on his boy’s amber eyes as much as possible.
Stiles stepped into the sweatpants Derek held out for him without argument,
then he stood docile and quiet while Derek rolled up the cuffs several times.
The sleeves of the hoodie got the same treatment, then Derek ushered Stiles out
of the bathroom and back down to the living room to bundle him onto the couch.
He shook the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped Stiles in it,
tucking him in and handing him the remote. It was tempting to lean in and press
his lips to Stiles’ forehead again, but his boy was a little more aware now,
and Derek didn’t want to risk scaring him away.
So he settled for squeezing the hand holding the remote in a loose grip, then
he straightened up and took a few steps backwards. “You find something to watch
and I’ll go see about that cocoa, okay?”
Stiles didn’t answer, but Derek didn’t really expect him to. He crossed to the
small kitchen and put some water on to boil, then he started pulling
ingredients out of his fridge to make Stiles a sandwich. It wasn’t much of a
dinner, but he had a feeling it was more than Stiles had eaten that day.
He was pouring the contents of a cocoa packet into a mug when he heard the TV
click on, then the sound of Stiles flipping through channels. It didn’t mean
Stiles was suddenly fine, not by a long shot. But he would be, Derek knew, no
matter how long it took, because he’d stop at nothing to make sure of it.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     I'm sorry I'm so slow. I really wish I was a faster writer.
It took nearly an hour of cartoons and two cups of hot cocoa before Stiles
finally glanced over at Derek. It was just a shy, quick look before he ducked
his head again, but it was a sign of life, and it made Derek breathe a little
easier.
“It’s my mom’s birthday.”
Derek nodded, because that was a pretty good explanation for what Stiles was
doing in the cemetery in the rain. “Why were you there alone?”
There was a little hitch in Stiles’ breath, and he wormed one of his hands out
of the blanket to wipe at his eyes. Derek reached over without thinking and
rested his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck, hoping that even though he didn’t
have a wolf’s instincts, the touch would give him some comfort.
“My dad was supposed to have the day off so we could go together,” Stiles said,
voice small, but he leaned into the touch like he didn’t realize he was doing
it, and Derek bit back a smile. “But he got called out last night and didn’t
get home until early morning, I guess. When I woke up there was half a bottle
of whiskey on the kitchen table and my dad was passed out. I waited for him to
wake up, but he just...didn’t.”
He seemed exhausted by the end of his speech, slumping over a little in Derek’s
direction, so Derek just scooped him up and pulled him close. He tucked Stiles
into his side, pulling the blanket tighter around him to keep him warm as he
wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders to hold him close.
“I’m sorry you had to do that alone.”
Stiles sniffled and nodded against his shoulder, but he didn’t try to pull
away, and Derek’s heart swelled in his chest.
“How’d you know where to find me?”
“My family is buried there too,” Derek answered, telling himself he didn’t have
to feel guilty for lying since it was technically true. The fact that he hadn’t
been to visit his parents’ graves once since he’d been back didn’t really
matter. “I stopped by on my way home and saw you.”
“In the rain?” Stiles asked, suspicion in his voice, and Derek had to smile,
because his mate was definitely as clever as Peter.
“It wasn’t raining that hard when I left the school,” Derek said, his smile
growing when Stiles leaned back to look at him. “Besides, it adds to the
ambience, don’t you think?”
That got him an eye roll, but Stiles dropped his head back down onto Derek’s
shoulder, so he was going to call it a victory.
They were quiet for a little while after that, the only sound in the loft the
murmur of the television and the steady beat of Stiles’ heart. Derek listened
to it while it slowed as though Stiles was falling asleep. He knew he should
wake Stiles up and take him home, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it when
Stiles was warm and safe tucked against him, sighing quietly as though he was
truly relaxed for the first time in who knew how long.
He thought Stiles was asleep, so it took him by surprise when a soft voice
murmured, “Thanks for coming to get me.”
Derek didn’t answer, mostly because he wasn’t sure Stiles knew exactly what he
was saying. It sounded like he knew Derek had been looking for him, and that he
didn’t mind the idea of his history teacher seeking him out and taking him home
to care for him as though they were...something. Stiles couldn’t know what all
of this meant, but it was clear now that at least some part of him was feeling
the pull of their mating bond.
He knew he had to be careful. He couldn’t just spring the idea of werewolves
and mates on Stiles; he was still so young, even if he was smart far beyond his
years. No matter what else he was, Stiles was just a lonely kid putting all his
trust in the first adult to show him any positive attention since his mom died.
Derek wouldn’t betray that trust, and he wouldn’t do anything to risk being
separated from Stiles for good.
Derek swallowed a sigh and turned far enough to press a kiss to the top of
Stiles’ head. A sleepy murmur was his only response, but Derek smiled anyway
and settled a little more into the couch and Stiles’ scent.
The next thing Derek knew he was blinking slowly into awareness, taking in the
much darker room and the warm body coming back to consciousness next to him.
Stiles sighed into Derek’s chest where he’d slid down to cuddle into him in his
sleep, and Derek smiled and ran a hand down his boy’s back. It was tempting to
slide his fingers under the sweatshirt Stiles was bundled in, just to feel the
warmth of his skin again, but Derek knew better.
Instead he kept up a soothing pattern on Stiles’ back while Derek waited for
him to wake up, frowning for a few seconds before he seemed to remember where
he was. When he took in their position Stiles’ eyes went wide, and Derek forced
himself not to drag him back when Stiles pulled away.
“Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Derek said. He glanced toward the tall windows along
the living room wall, taking in the red sky and the quickly sinking sun. “It’s
getting pretty late, though. Your dad’s probably worried.”
The noise Stiles made could have meant anything, but Derek was pretty sure it
was disagreement. He didn’t look happy about the prospect of going home, and
taking him back to his father was the last thing Derek wanted to do, but he
knew they didn’t have a choice.
So he forced himself up off the couch, away from the intoxicating combination
of their scents and across the loft to fetch Stiles’ clothes from the dryer.
When he got back to the living room Stiles was folding the blanket, and he took
his clothes without comment and headed to the bathroom to change.
The fact that he remembered where the bathroom was made Derek wonder what else
he remembered, if he’d really been as out of it as he seemed or if he
remembered Derek undressing him and kissing his forehead. Then again, if Stiles
did remember, it didn’t seem to make him uncomfortable around Derek, so he
decided not to worry about it.
When Stiles reappeared again wearing his own clothes, arms wrapped around
himself like he was trying to hold himself together, Derek had to fight back
the urge to grab him and run far and fast so no one, not even Laura, could find
them. But he knew he couldn’t do that to Stiles, that he wouldn’t thank Derek
for it if he did, so instead he closed the distance between them and took back
the clothes Derek had lent him.
He set the sweatpants down on the table in front of the windows, then he shook
out the hoodie and pulled it back over Stiles’ head. “It’s still pretty damp
out there. Why don’t you hang onto this for a while.”
Instead of answering Stiles just slid his arms into the sleeves, then he
huddled down into it like he was trying to disappear inside the fabric. Wrapped
in the safety of his mate’s scent, and none of the humans in town would know,
but Derek’s wolf preened all the same.
The hoodie was an old one left over from high school, the Beacon Hills
basketball logo faded on the back. That meant it wouldn’t raise eyebrows if
anyone around town saw Stiles wearing it, though the Sheriff would probably
have questions if he spotted it. Then again, the Sheriff didn’t seem to pay
attention to much when it came to his son, so Derek determined not to worry too
much about it.
He reached out and tugged on one of the hoodie strings, smiling when Stiles
blushed and stole a glance at him through long eyelashes. “If you need to, you
can call me, okay?”
For a few beats Stiles just stared at him, wide-eyed and a little skittish,
like maybe he was waiting for the punchline. “Why?”
“Why what?” Derek asked, frowning at the anxiety wafting off his mate.
“Why are you being so nice to me? School’s one thing, but this…” Stiles trailed
off with a vague gesture Derek assumed was meant to encompass his apartment and
his clothes and the entire afternoon.
“We’re friends, right?” Derek answered, though it felt like a lie to keep even
part of the truth from him. He wanted to tell Stiles everything, about what he
was and what Stiles meant to him. But he couldn’t take the risk of scaring him
off, not when Stiles was still so skittish, so he settled for part of the truth
instead. “You seem like you could use someone in your corner, and so can I. So
if you need anything, like a ride somewhere or someone to talk to or even just
somewhere safe to go, you can call me.”
Stiles nodded and looked up at him through his eyelashes again. “Thanks, Mister
Hale.”
“How about you call me Derek when we’re not in school,” Derek said, smiling
when Stiles blushed again and nodded. “Do you have your phone with you? I can
add my number before I take you home.”
“Oh, uh, my dad won’t let me have a cell phone. He says I don’t need one and
it’ll just distract me.”
Derek didn’t point out that a cell phone would have come in handy when Stiles
was stuck in the rain that afternoon. He kept his opinions about all the time
Stiles spent alone to himself, too. Instead he crossed to the small kitchen and
dug through a drawer until he found a pen and a piece of paper. He jotted down
his number and crossed back to Stiles, tucking it into the pocket of his hoodie
before he gently gripped Stiles’ shoulders.
“I mean it. You can call whenever you want.”
Stiles nodded again, sniffling a little, but his hand crept into the pocket
where Derek had tucked his number, as though making sure it was really there,
and his scent went sweet and pleased. “Okay.”
That was the end of the conversation, but Stiles followed him out of the loft
and down the stairs to his car easily enough. Derek spent the drive back to the
Stilinski house coming up with a story for the Sheriff just in case he was
waiting when they got there, but judging by the slow, steady beat of a
heartbeat when they pulled into the driveway, he was still dead to the world.
Father of the year, Derek thought to himself, but he didn’t say anything.
Instead he smiled at Stiles one more time, then he went around to the trunk and
got his bike out of the car.
“Thanks,” Stiles said when he climbed out of the passenger seat to stand in the
driveway, one hand on the bike and the other still in his pocket. Derek could
just make out the sound of paper crinkling as Stiles’ fingers closed around his
phone number, and his heart swelled at the knowledge that his mate was guarding
the direct line to Derek so carefully.
“Any time,” Derek answered. He tilted his head up as though he was looking at
the clouds, doing his best not to flare his nostrils as he scented the air for
any traces of an oncoming storm. “You better get inside before it starts to
rain again.”
“Yeah.” Stiles paused, glancing up at the clouds, and Derek could tell he was
stalling. He didn’t want to say goodbye any more than Derek did, not when it
felt like something had shifted between them in the past few hours. Something
important had happened, and Derek wanted to reach out, to pull Stiles into a
hug and scent him again so the whole world would know where he belonged.
But it was enough of a risk standing in his driveway where the neighbors could
see, so Derek kept his hands to himself and took a couple steps backwards.
“Goodnight, Stiles.”
“Bye Mister...Derek,” Stiles corrected himself, blushing a little at the sound
of Derek’s name on his lips. “See you at school.”
School was two whole days away, and Derek really didn’t want to wait that long.
But he didn’t have a choice, so he just smiled and waited for Stiles to let
himself into the house, then he got in his car and drove back to his empty
loft.
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