Chapter Text
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He woke up a day later to crying. Lucas was wailing like the world was crashing around him and Stiles swiped his hand to shake Derek. The bed was empty, Stiles blinking as he patted the sheets and blankets expected Derek to just magically appear. It was still warm, so the wolf must have just gotten up. He had probably heard the whimpering of Lucas before the boy had even made a peep, cheating werewolf powers. He nuzzled back into the sheet, smiling as he inhaled the scent of Derek. Deep wood and the hint of spice from his aftershave. He sighed contently, hugging the pillow to his body.
Stiles heard the wailing continue, his ears ringing with the sound of the baby's cries. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching as he fished for a pair of boxers on the ground. He frowned, had Derek cleaned the room? The usual pile of clothing on the floor was missing, making Stiles frown at the change. He looked around the rest of the room, the open closet door catching his eyes. His plaid shirts were hanging up neatly, the leather pack jacket Derek had given him was hanging up next to them as well. But the old leather jacket, the one that had been covered in Derek's blood, was missing. He blinked, the wails of Lucas making his heart pick up as he looked around the room once more.
Drawers were pulled out, clothing removed from them in a hurry. Stiles felt his breath catch in his thraot, shaking his head as he flung off the bed and down the stairs towards the wails of Lucas.
“Lucas-- Lucas wha--”
“PAPA! PAPA!” he screamed, grabbing him in a flying hug as he nuzzled and sobbed into his shoulder. Stiles wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his back softly as he looked around the door. The key hooks were still in tact, but his eyes widened. The Camaro keys were gone.
“Oh no, no no no no no no no--” he ran over, grabbing his phone and dialing Derek's phone. He felt his heart stop as he heard the phone responding, vibrating and ringing on the kitchen table.
“ Can't you stay where you are, just for now. I could be your perfect disaster. You could be my ever after. You could be my ever after, after all. I could be your perfect disaster. You could be my ever after”
He walked over to the table, grabbing the phone and ending the call. The background of Derek's phone popping up. The picture was of Stiles smiling, kissing Lucas' head as they were surrounded by Scott and Isaac, the two of them smiling at each other. He felt tears well up as he looked back down to the table.
There was a lease for the loft, signed over to Isaac, his official resignation from Beacon Hills Sheriff's department, a simple message scrawled out that Scott was the alpha of the Beacon Hills pack, Lucas' adoption papers signed over completely to Stiles and-- and a personal note to Stiles. He set Lucas down as he ripped open the manila envelope, his eyes scanning over the words in Derek's hasty handwriting.
I can't be bonded to you until I'm whole again. But I don't think that will ever happen, I'm far too broken. Malachi was right, you deserve someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved.
I'm not that person.
Good bye Stiles, have a better life.
Derek Elizabeth Hale.
He felt teas well up and spill onto the paper, his heart ripping out of his chest and shattering onto the cold floor. He sobbed now, falling to the ground as he grabbed Lucas. He pulled him into a tight hug, burying his head in the black hair and shaking in anger and sadness. Derek had left them. He had left his Stiles. Lucas was still wailing, his tiny claws digging into Stiles.
“Dunt leave papa! Dunt leave too! I'll be good... I promise! I'll be so good... dunt leave me alone...” Stiles sobbed, shaking his head as he tried to speak. Tried to say he wouldn't leave, he would never leave, but nothing came out. He gripped the boy as tightly as he could, not caring the boy was wolfed out and scratching his back up.
“Papa.... when is daddy coming back?” he asked, whimpering as he clung to Stiles.
and for once, Stiles had no words.
_--_--_--_
“I can't liveeeeeee with or without youuuuu” the music blared as Stiles and Isaac stood at the kitchen island making supper for Lucas. Stiles chopped a little harder than necessary, his eyes focused on the red radish as he snarled.
“I can change the so--”
“Don't.” Stiles pointed the knife at Scott, the wolf backing down and sitting back at the table. “Let me wallow. I let you wallow. It's MY turn.” he turned back to the vegetables, ignoring their looks. It had been a month since Derek had left, all of them still getting over the month that had happened. They went to Malachi's funeral, Faith giving her number to all the boys and saying she was always there to come back and help. Stiles took it with thanks, but never put it in his phone.
They buried Darien in the circle of ash by the Hale house from where he had jumped, it was the closest he was going to be to his world-line. Scott had cried more than Stiles had ever seen him, but he couldn't blame him. When Derek left, Stiles could have wallowed. He could have screamed, blamed the wolf for everything that had happened. But he didn't.
Stiles had Lucas still. Had the betas who were broken and frayed from the loss of not one but two Alphas in the pack. Peter had stopped coming around, his eyes never meeting Stiles' when they saw each other. Stiles could hear the pity in his stare, but he never reacted to it. They resigned to just not talking.
Which actually was killing the teenager. He missed the bantering, craved normality but no one was giving it to him. He was alone and he didn't want to be. Some nights were worse than others, waking up in cold sweats or fishing around in the bed only to find just Isaac or Scott.
No strong brooding werewolf who would just raise and eyebrow and comfort him with little kisses.
No Derek.
And if he was being honest with himself, that was what hurt him the most. It wasn't him leaving to go better himself or so that Stiles could have a normal life, it was him not telling Stiles. It was him just leaving without a trace. Stiles could have survived if he had just told him where he was going. If he even had a clue.
Lucas brought him back to the present, his sticky hands grabbing at Stiles' shirt as he tugged it. Stiles let a smile cross his face, leaning down so the boy could wrap his arms around his neck and be lifted up to the counter.
“Wacha makin' Papa?” he asked, grabbing a piece of carrot and chewing on it slowly. Stiles gave him a look, but he really couldn't complain that the kid was eating vegetables.
“Daikon cakes. The radishes have to be eaten today or else they'll go bad.” he said, pulling the grater out and slowly grating the radishes against it. Lucas mad a face, grabbing another carrot and chomping down on it.
“I dunt want that.” he said with a raised brow. He grinned up, Stiles letting out a sigh.
“Lucas... this is what we're having for dinner. Ok? Isaac and Scott aren't complaining!” Isaac shifted a little on his feet but nodded, smiling.
“Mmm Daikon Cakes...” he said, attempting to placate the boy.
“I want pizza. Make me Pizza. Papa, I want P--”
“I heard you the first time, spoiled little wolf.” he grumbled, grabbing the boy and putting him down on the floor. “But no. We're not having Pizza tonight. Ok? If we were having Pizza, I'm sure Grandpa would be over here with Grandma. But no, he decided to go out. Because he thinks his son is going to break out in Panic Attacks just because his good for nothing ma--” he stopped, shaking his head. He didn't want to unload on the child.
“Papa. You talk a lot.” Lucas rolled his eyes, scampering out of the room. Stiles sighed, slamming his head into the fridge and letting out a broken breath.
“Isaac, can you just... Hit me. Really nice in the jaw? Maybe if I'm mad enough the magic will come back and--” he swallowed. “-- and I could find out where he's....” Isaac placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder. Scott looked up with tired eyes, the group of them far old than they should have to be.
“Stiles... if you want to find him, why don't you?” Isaac asked, “Don't sit on your ass. Just got after him” Stiles frowned, he could do that? He could do that. He stood up a little straighter, a smile creasing his face.
“I should right! I have no clear idea where he went, no notion if he's even still in the country, and I'm a high schooler with a five-year-old werewolf kid--”
“Well, when you put it like that--”
“No, Scott. Isaac is right. Derek thinks I'll just lay down and wait for him? That I'll take this without a fight? Ahhha No. Who the hell does he think I am? I'm Stiles Fucking Stilinski. And I will not be his waiting Princess. I'm gonna find him, and then.... and then...” he paused, looking down.
“Then what?” Isaac asked, his eyes lighting up with fire as Stiles smiled lightly.
“Then I'm going to drag his little were-ass back here.” he smiled, crossing his arms.
“Papa, you're loud. I can't hear my shows.” Lucas said from the living room, Stiles smiling wide.
“You two coming with us?” Scott hesitated for only a second before his eyes flashed bright red.
“Oh hell yes.”
_--_--_--_
“No.” John Stilinski said from the kitchen, Stiles had gone over as soon as they had formulated the plan. He had explained everything to his dad, being sure to mention that he could graduate High School early so he wasn't giving anything up. Scott and Isaac would both work on their GED's and Lucas would be taught everything they could think of. It had seemed like a solid plan. Even Mrs. McCall thought it was a good plan.
“Dad, seriously. This isn't up for discussion. This--”
“NO. Stiles, you are not dragging those kids in that piece of shit Jeep. You will be renting an RV.” John said, shaking his head. “I don't see how you'd expect to get out of California with that rust bucket.” Stiles made a face.
“Betty is a lady and you will treat her as such.” he pouted, but nodded. “I supposed an RV would be more comfortable... but Dad... I don't have the money for a--” he watched as his dad pulled out a lockbox and opening it with the small key around his neck. He grabbed an envelope, tossing it to Stiles and smiling.
“Now you do.” Stiles blinked, opening the envelop and seeing a faded greeting card. He opened it up and let his mouth drop. There was well over five thousand dollars in the card, his eyes flicking up as he looked down to the card. Soft swooping curls of his mother's handwriting.
Grainnemiun,
If you are anything like me, you will have a dream. This will hopefully let you chase it.
I love you,
Mommy.
He let his mouth close for a moment, eyes flicking up to his father as he sighed.
"Dad, I'm about to do the stupidest thing in my life." Stiles said, placing the card back in the envelope and shoving the money in his wallet "I'm not going to lie, this sounds like something a crazy person would do."
Sheriff Stilinski placed a hand on his son's shoulder. He squeezed it lightly and then placed a soft kiss on the boy's forehead. He smiled as he pulled away, nodding.
"People do crazy things for love. Now bring that Sonuvabitch back so I can punch him."
_--_--_--_
Melissa and John helped them get ready with maps and emergency kits. Stiles had turned in his application and was a high school graduate, John hanging his certificate in the house next to his and Aria's making Stiles feel proud that he had been able to give that to his father.
They had all loaded up the RV with everything they might need, Lucas just excited that they were going on a trip. He made sure that they packed all his stuffed animals and blankets, especially the wolf one that Grandpa had given him especially for the trip. They were about to leave when there was a voice.
“You don't think you're leaving without me do you?” Stiles turned to see Peter standing by the front of the RV, his own bags packed and at his feet. “Pack sticks together. And Family does too.” Stiles felt his heart warm, Peter cared about them. Cared about Derek. Maybe, deep inside, he really was a kind, caring, loyal--”
“Besides, if I'm not driving I'll bet we crash in the ocean before we even leave the state.” He threw his bags at Stiles and made a 'hurry up' motion.
Yeah, no. Peter was still a dick.