Author: The Artful Dodger / dodger_sister
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Category: Angst, Episode Coda, Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Talk of character death.
Spoilers: S3 Ep07 'Currents'.
Summary: Derek needs to keep the pack safe. But who keeps Derek safe?
Word Count: 608 words.
Date Written: 08/06/13
Disclaimer: Teen Wolf is not mine. This fic is mine. No money to be had. Cool?
Feedback: Bring it. dodger_sister / TheArtofDodger@comcast.net
Author's Notes: Derek’s face after Boyd died just ripped me open. I needed someone to tell him it was going to be okay. I needed someone to take some of the weight. That’s literally the entire story behind why I wrote this fic. It was cathartic. Also, this is the first Derek/Stiles story I ever wrote!
Boyd was dead.
It was like a lump somewhere in Stiles’ chest and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t push it down. He couldn’t stop seeing the blood, the water pooled on the floor, mixed together in a swirling abyss that had taken Boyd’s life. He couldn’t stop seeing the look on Derek’s face, the utter pain and anguish, nothing there that wasn’t broken.
It still surprised him though, when he felt that old familiar feeling of being watched, only to find Derek perched on the roof outside Stiles’ bedroom window.
“That’s just all kinds of creepy,” Stiles said. “You’re totally stalking me now. I get it. I’m irresistible.”
Derek didn’t even look up, didn’t move. He looked like a weight was holding him down, like it was too much to even strain his neck in Stiles’ direction.
Stiles sighed and climbed out the window, trying to swing himself upwards, but his feet slipped and he slid down, the ground suddenly coming towards him at an alarming rate.
Then there was a hand around his wrist, catching him, holding him, and Stiles looked up to meet Derek’s eyes, soft and focused only on him.
“Uh, thanks, man,” Stiles said and let Derek pull him up, before settling beside him, huddling against himself and the wind.
Next to him, Derek made a small noise, not quite his usual sound of impatience, but something that still sounded so completely Derek-like that it made Stiles smile to himself.
“Here,” Derek said and slid off his jacket, offering it to Stiles.
Stiles just blinked at the jacket until Derek glared at him and then he scrambled to put it on, because the gesture wasn’t unappreciated. It was just unexpected.
“So,” Stiles said and sat there awkwardly, knees pulled up to his chest, watching Derek out of the corner of his eyes.
“I don’t know,” Derek said, softly, breath puffing out on the night air.
“Don’t know what?” Stiles asked him, voice just as soft.
Derek shrugged and clasped his hands on his knees. “I don’t know that either. I don’t know what I’m suppose to know, I don’t know what I’m suppose to do, I don’t know how to keep everyone safe.”
It was a rush of words pushed out of him and something in Stiles hurt from it, from the admission of it all.
“What happened with Boyd…” and Stiles faltered when Derek jerked at the sound of Boyd’s name, “that wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could. You fucking tried, man. You can’t do more than that.”
“I can’t do anything. I couldn’t keep him safe from the alphas. I couldn’t keep him safe from me. And the same thing is going to happen to the rest of you. Because I can’t protect you,” and the last bit was more a growl than it was words, but Stiles held steady, didn’t flinch against it.
“It’s okay,” Stiles said, almost a whisper and reached out to slide his hand into Derek’s own, curling their fingers together. “You don’t have to protect everyone all the time. Sometimes it’s our job to protect you.”
Derek looked up, eyes cutting through Stiles like a knife.
“How are you planning on doing that, Stiles?” he asked and the words bit like the chill of the wind.
“However you need me to,” Stiles told him.
Stiles didn’t flinch, not even for a second, when Derek surged forward and pressed his mouth against Stiles’ own and there was nothing but pain and regret and fear, but Stiles took it from him anyway. He took it all.
Because that’s what Derek needed him to do.