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It hits him like a train the minute he sees the small, fragile boy sitting outside the counselor's office in an obscenely over-sized red hoodie. The boy's head snaps up to look at him, eyes widening and jaw dropping open as he gasps in a breath through his mouth. Derek's nostrils flare, eyes flashing in recognition of their bond, but before he can move he's being pulled away by his team mates, their eyes locked together until his team is forced to round the corner, moving the boy out of his line of sight. The urge to run to the boy is overwhelming, but Camden refuses to let go of his arm, a terse "you're being weird" whispered low enough that only Derek can hear it, before Camden pushes him into the boy's locker room.
He shakes himself off, tosses his sweats towards his locker before turning the water to the coldest setting the locker showers allow him to. The swim will clear his foggy mind even if the cutting cold of his shower doesn't.
It has to.
***
After that it becomes harder to ignore the scent that lingers on the glass cases at the Patisserie downtown, or the cereal aisle of the grocery store, or the Nintendo GameCube section of GameStop. It is slowly driving him mad. His mother doesn't say anything if she notices the way he showers six times a day, but Laura and Cora yell at him for cutting into their beauty routines, but he's too frustrated, with the heady scent of his sou-- the-boy-in-the-red-hoodie to care. The combination of the cold showers and his fist around his, increasingly frequent, erections is somewhat sating his need for the boy. But it really isn't enough.
When the girls mix bleach to his shampoo (his acceptance of the chlorine smell from his daily routine making it impossible for him to know it's happened), he calls it quits and applies for more shifts at the swimming pool he lifeguards at.
***
"STILES, COME ON!!"
Derek's head snaps up when the scent overwhelms him (it's like the kid is everywhere and Derek just cannot escape him), and he sees a small boy, in trunks that are way too big for him, dive-bombing into the pool. Behind him the boy from the school office is staring at Derek wide-eyed, panting for air mouth-opened. The flush that rises from the waist-band of the boy's trunks, sprawls across his chest, and curls up towards the tips of his ears leaves Derek breathless and his fingers itch with his need to touch, lick and follow the blush to it's extremes. Derek nods at the boy, and it's like it sets the boy in motion and he rockets towards the pool and jumps in. Derek notices the bulge in the boy's shorts that rocks up and down as he moves, and it makes him fidget uncomfortable, feeling like a pervert.
Stiles. His name is Stiles.
Derek knows this because that is what the other boy calls out to get Stiles' attention. Derek notices the way Stiles' blush doesn't die down, and the way his eyes flicker towards Derek every time his friend, Scott touches him, or he moves to touch Scott. Derek forgets to keep an eye on any of the other patrons at the pool.
He quits his job at the end of his shift, and calls up Coach Lahey to see if he can use the school's pool to train more often.
***
Derek's towel is tucked around his waist and he's stepping out of the shower when he freezes. The feeling hits him full force, just as the wind is physically knocked out him. The body that had freight-train-ed into him reels backwards, eyes-wide and hands outstretched in front of him.
"Um..." It's all the kid gets out before Derek crowds him up against the wall, stealing his breath in a heated kiss. It doesn't help the haze in Derek's brain, but as the fog slowly settles, Derek pushes himself away. The boy-- Stiles, his treacherous brain corrects, chases his mouth with a whine, but Derek's got a good foot on him and resolutely holds his shoulders back against the wall.
"No!" Derek whispers, staring down at the boy with what he hopes is an intimidating stare. The boy pouts, his pupils are blown wide with lust and he's breathing heavily through his nose, staring hungrily at Derek's mouth.
The loud clatter behind Derek makes them jump apart. "Umm... Sorry!" Stiles' friend says, scrambling to pick up the lacrosse kit he'd stumbled into as he backed away.
"It's not what you think!" Derek says, arms outstretched.
"Uh..." Scott eyes the door leading out to the hallway and starts backing away.
"He knows." Stiles mumbles once Scott is out of sight.
Derek has his nose buried in Stiles' neck and jerks away. "What?" Stiles whines, hand scrabbling for purchase on Derek's bare chest before grabbing his neck and pulling Derek's face towards Stiles' neck again.
"He's my best friend. I tell him everything. He's known since the evening I saw you outside my mom's office."
"Your mom? Mrs. Stilinski is your mom?" Derek asks incredulously, pulling away and holding Stiles away at arms length. He shakes his head to try and clear out the fuzziness that's taken up residence there. "Do your parents know?"
"No!" Stiles scoffs at Derek, giving up his fight to move closer to Derek. "What would I tell them? 'Mom, Dad, I got soul-bonded by a complete stranger and he's A LOT older than me'? I'm twelve, dude! They'd probably hunt you down and kill you or something. Okay, maybe not because they know it isn't exactly voluntary and is a lot more complicated and permanent than just attraction. I'm sort of inexplicably drawn to you and it's kind of scary. I don't even realize I'm doing it until I see you and I'm like 'Oh shit!' Don't tell my mom I said that." Stiles takes a deep breath and gets a weird look on his face. "Wait do your parents know?"
"No. But I think they have their suspicions. My sister's been scenting me and everyone in school for the last couple of days."
"Okay. Okay. That's good. It's not like she'll figure it out. Our paths hardly crossed before and I'm in middle school so it's not like the high school kids come to my school. So she won't figure it out. Right?"
"Yeah." Derek replies, but it doesn't sound reassuring, even to Derek's own ears. "It's Derek, by the way, Derek Hale." He says after a moment of silence.
"What?"
"My name. You said I was a stranger."
"Oh. No I know who you are. Wonders of the internet and all that jazz." Stiles wiggles his fingers out as he says it. "Not that I stalked you or whatever, but I-"
"Stiles! Your mom's done with her meeting. We need to go!" Scott yells, running into the locker room and attempting to drag Stiles away. Derek barely reigns in the urge to maim the boy pulling his mate away; and his claws pierce through his own skin for the first time since he was five and lost control for the last time.
***
"It isn't someone from our school, is it?" Laura asks a week later.
Derek pretends he doesn't hear her.
"Brother dearest, I am not an idiot. I know you can hear me, and I can tell that you've been weird and more on-edge lately. So either that means your doing something bad or you've soul-bonded to someone."
Derek flinches.
"I knew it!" Laura punches him in the arm making Derek grimace. "I couldn't smell drugs on you. But I also couldn't smell you on anyone at school. So she isn't from our school is she."
Derek scowls.
"She isn't older is she?"
"What makes you so sure I'm soul-bonded to a woman."
Laura's expression almost makes him crack-up. Her eyebrows are raised all the way to her hairline and her jaw hung open, unattractively. "I didn't mean to be presumptuous. But considering that you've never shown an interest in men it wasn't exactly..."
"You know that's not how soul-bonds work. And you know that's not how it works for our kind anyways. Sexuality I mean."
"So he doesn't go to our school?"
"No."
"Who is it?"
"I'm not going to tell you that."
"Why the hell not? This is a good thing Derek! This can help you anchor down faster. You know your wolf is stronger with a mate than without one, right? You'd be the first from our generation to bond!"
"Let it go." Derek growls threateningly.
"Have you consummated it?"
"No!" Derek sneers. "And I won't be consummating it any time soon. Drop it, Laura! And don't you dare tell mom and dad."
***
Derek does his best to avoid Stiles after Laura's confrontation. And it works for about six weeks. It's been uncomfortable, and Derek's slowly been going out of his mind because separation has been known to cause discomfort for bonded pairs, and Derek's been deliberate with his ostracization of Stiles. Coach Lahey benches Derek when he loses his control and claws Camden. To be fair though, Camden wouldn't stop talking about setting Derek up with an older woman he'd met at the bar. Even after Derek explicitly said 'no'.
So, Derek has taken to running in the preserve around the Hale property despite the freezing winter rain that's been falling incessantly for the past three days. It has been especially grueling the past few hours because he feels a devastating pull to run to Stiles and he's had to consciously correct his trajectory five times in the last twenty minutes alone. He's on his way home when sees the familiar red hoodie he's been avoiding standing at his front door. Stiles is talking to Derek's mother. Derek stops cold and when his mom's eyes snap up to meet his, beckoning him over with a slight nod and a grim smile, he grudgingly makes his way towards them.
When Stiles realizes Derek is at the edge of the porch he turns around with a startled gasp. He looks terrible. He's drenched in the rain, but it is the red puffiness of his eyes and the trembling lower lip that have Derek pulling him in protectively with a "What? What happened, Stiles?" and it brings a fresh onslaught of tears and snot as Stiles grabs at Derek.
"My mom." He croaks. But when Derek tries to push him away to ask him more, Stiles just clings tighter. So Derek carries Stiles into the house and into his room, avoiding the questioning looks from his family.
Once he's kicked the door closed, he tries to move Stiles again, but the younger boy refuses to let go. "Hey, hey. I just want us to get into dry clothes so that we don't fall sick. I'll hold you after you're dry and we've got you wrapped up in a blanket, ok?" He waits for Stiles to nod wetly against his neck before he tries to move him again. He pulls out two sets of clothes from his closet and hands one to Stiles. When he moves towards the bathroom however, Stiles whines and hugs Derek from behind, making Derek freeze in place. "Stiles. I can't watch you be naked, okay?" But Stiles just tightens his arms again. "Okay, okay. I'll stay, just, we have to turn away from each other okay?"
Stiles pushes Derek onto the bed when he's done. Crawling up into Derek's lap, resting his head against Derek's heartbeat as the tears start again. Derek moves around Stiles so that he can wrap them up in his comforter. He rubs his hands up and down Stiles' back hoping he can provide his mate with some comfort even though he has no idea what is going on. Stiles' breathing evens out soon and Derek is not surprised, the ferocity of Stiles' tears was tiring, even for him.
There's a knock on the door before his mother's head pops in. "Is he okay?"
"I don't know. Do you know why he's so upset? What happened to Mrs. Stilinski?" Derek asks his mom.
"Derek." His mother says sternly. "I need to let his parents know he's here. And we need to talk about this."
"I know. I'm sorry, mom. I didn't mean to disappoint you."
"Oh, honey!" She comes into the room and closes the door behind her. "I'm not disappointed. Well I am, but not because of what you think." She sits down on the edge of his bed just as Stiles grumbles in his sleep, Derek shushes him, and rubs his cheek against the top of Stiles' head. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"He's twelve."
"And you're bonded to him."
"But he hasn't even hit puberty! I'm six years older than him! It's like pedophilia!"
"Baby boy," She says, cupping Derek's face and brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes, "you are not the first person to have found a younger bond-mate. Not even the first to find a prepubescent mate. Yes it complicates things, but there is nothing wrong with it. Bonds are sacred, even to the humans. Did you know that his parents are also bond mates? And that they are almost twice as far apart in age? Your bonding isn't even as complicated as theirs was."
"Really?"
"Would I lie to you? Sheriff Stilinski was the most eligible bachelor in town fifteen years ago. Amélie was visiting her boyfriend's family for Christmas. Imagine how strange it was for them. She walks into her boyfriend's house only to find herself soul-bonded to his uncle. The Sheriff had himself locked up in a prison-cell for the week so that he'd stay away from her."
"Oh... but don't strong bond-mates have to be-- I thought--" He takes a deep breath, mind a little boggled by this revelation. "I know that humans soul-bond too, but their bonds aren't that consuming, are they? Stiles isn't completely human, is he?"
"Well, not completely. Amélie and her ancestors are called 'Sparks' by the emissaries. Stiles is essentially human, he has no supernatural abilities unless he wants to develop them."
"You should call the Sheriff. I don't want them to worry about Stiles. Maybe warn them before they come barging in here. He's upset," Derek gestures with his head towards Stiles, "and I don't know how I'll react to them trying to take him away from me."
Derek can see pride in his mother's eyes, but she doesn't say anything before she nods and leaves him to fuss over Stiles, even though the boy is asleep. Derek trains his ears on the frantic voices over the phone. He can discern the panic, and later the relief, in the sheriff's voice as Derek's mother talks to him. Stiles hiccups on a sob, drawing Derek's attention back to him and drowning out the conversation taking place outside. Derek finds himself drifting off to the somewhat steady beat of Stiles' heart and the rhythm of lazy circles his fingers draw against Stiles' lower back.
***
The sound of the door opening wakes Derek, his arms tighten around Stiles instinctually, and his eyes flash at the person at the door.
"Derek!" His mother reprimands, disappointed."Manners!"
Derek mumbles an apology even though his eyes flash in warning. Stiles stirs, his hands moving to rub the sleep out of his eyes as he yawns and burrows deeper against Derek's chest. He blinks one eye open against the bright light in the hallway.
"Derek it's late and he needs to go home."
"Is my dad here?" Stiles asks groggily, rubbing his cheek against Derek's.
"Yes I am, Stiles." The Sheriff's stern voice cuts through the sleepy silence that had settled in the room, making the boys jump apart.
Derek stretches to turn his bedside lamp on, causing Stiles to shirk back into him further.
"Stiles?" The sadness in the Sheriff's voice is palpable and it reminds Derek of the hot tears that Stiles cried against his chest. Derek's hand rubs soothingly against Stiles' back preemptively, but it causes the boy to sob brokenly before he's scrambling out of the protective circle of Derek's arms and into his Dad's.
"Dad!" Stiles wails, and Derek feel helpless not knowing how to alleviate the distress Stiles is feeling.
"It'll be okay, Stiles. It's not a death sentence. There are options available these days. We'll be okay." The Sheriff drags a soothing hand down Stiles' back, but he just cries harder, face buried in his father's chest. "Can we go home now? Your mother is worried sick. If Talia hadn't called..."
Derek lets out a distressed whimper when Stiles nods. But then Stiles is grabbing his face up between his delicate hands and pressing their foreheads together. "I'll come back soon, okay? I need to be with my mom." His voice wavers, but he rubs his nose against Derek's and it is almost comforting. The sheriff is looking on with his lips pursed together and eyebrows furrowed, but thankfully he doesn't say anything when Stiles squeezes Derek's hand comfortingly before dragging his father out of the house.
***
Derek's mom tells him about the cancer. But also tells him that the Sheriff has forbidden Derek from going over to their house. It is distressing to say the least, especially since he doesn't heard from Stiles for almost two weeks. He ignores his mother's sage advice and drives over to the Stilinski's house. He can smell the sickness and the fact that Stiles is home. He can even tell when Stiles realizes Derek is outside because the boy comes to the window, wide-eyed. A moment later Derek is up the tree, and through Stiles' bedroom window.
"You didn't call." Derek grumbles.
"I'm sorry. I've--"
"Stupid!" Derek interrupts, pulling the boy to his chest. "Don't apologize, Stiles! Jeez! My mom told me. I don't know how to-- I can feel your distress and I-- I don't know what to do to make it better."
Stiles chuckles wetly against Derek's chest, hiccuping on a sob. "There's nothing you can do unless you have a magic cure for cancer."
"I can ask my mom to bite--"
Stiles sobs before pushing Derek away. "Won't work. Something about will and willpower or something like that. Dr. Deaton tried to explain it to your mother when she'd come by last week. From what I understand, my mom wouldn't ever put anyone in that position, and so it wouldn't work."
"Stiles--" The door burst open and the Sheriff looks angry that Derek is there, once the surprise quickly wears off.
"Dad."
"You are not supposed to be here." The Sheriff purses his lips and glares at Derek.
"I'm sor--"
"I told your mother this was private. I get that you're bonded. I know what it's like. But Stiles is a child."
"Dad!"
"You are, Stiles. And Derek is eighteen. That is not okay. I cannot change the fact that you're practically engaged, but I can prevent you from being taken advantage of."
"I would never--" Derek says, just as Stiles is saying, "He wouldn't--"
"Yeah, but the bond doesn't make you very rational, now does it?" Stiles and Derek look at each other.
"He is hurting and I need to help him through this." Derek says resolutely. "I get that he's much younger than me. I get that my species runs more on instinct the closer we are to moon, but that doesn't mean I won't keep him safe, even if it is from myself. I would never do something to hurt him. Never. You have to know that. And sure, the urge to make him mine is strong, but my... more primal side is very well aware that Stiles is not ready yet. And with him as upset as he is, it wouldn't even try -- even if Stiles were ready. Which, at the age of twelve, he is not. I understand that completely." Derek isn't sure if his rambling is helping, but the reminiscent pain from having Stiles kept at arms length has him confessing every thought that he's had about Stiles over the past week. "If you think that Stiles and I should limit our interactions, I am okay with that. But I cannot stay away. I need to see him. It is physically painful if I don't!" Stiles nods frantically from his side, but he continues anyways. "I know you understand it so I don't know why you would keep us apart. If it comforts you, I'll only meet him downstairs under your watchful eye. And only once or twice a week if that makes you feel better, but I cannot go cold turkey."
The silence at the end of his verbal emesis is deafening and Derek tries, in vain, to recall his words to make out whether he said anything embarrassing or inappropriate.
"Fine," the Sheriff concedes sharply, but resigned, and Stiles whimpers as he reaches his hand out to slide into Derek's.
Derek considers it a win, all things considered.
***
It was much easier said than done -- not being able to hold Stiles the way he wanted to; because even though the Sheriff had accepted the fact that Derek and Stiles were inseparable, he would not take to kindly to watching Derek's tongue occupying his twelve year old son's mouth. So he kisses Stiles when they pass each other in the hallways of the house, pressed up against walls, before pulling away.
It's even harder because Stiles doesn't understand how his presence affects Derek (he's twelve and just coming out of his "girls have cooties" phase, which thankfully is a point that is moot because he is Derek's) and he pushes at the limits of Derek's sanity with the way Stiles curls up in Derek's lap and snuffles against his collarbone or the way he presses open mouthed kisses along Derek's neck thinking it will pacify him when it gets closer to the Derek's departure.
It takes all of Derek's self restraint not to push Stiles into the couch and rut against him like a dog in heat, because the way Stiles breathes through his wet, cherry red mouth, a blush hot on his cheeks is the most obscene thing in the world. And then Stiles does something silly like talk about how Scott ate a foul smelling candy bar they found by the dumpster at recess because Stiles dared him to, and Derek is reminded of just how young Stiles is. The reminders are sobering, and yet the most disturbing thing in the history of things Derek has to deal with because Stiles is so very young. And Derek wants to do bad things to him. Debauch him in the most thorough way possible. He's woken up in the middle of the night, knot swollen and aching with the phantom press of Stiles' clenching hole around it. He's had to burn two sets of sheets a week since the world (Read: His and Stiles' families) found out about their bond.
The thought of it makes Derek sick. It makes him cough up bile because it's the kind of thing his Uncle Peter went to jail for. The kind of thing he's glad his uncle never got to do to him. How could he even think of doing it to Stiles?
It's a night like that one, where Derek's woken up hard and aching from a dream before he's puking his guts out in the downstairs bathroom, that his mother confronts him.
"Baby, what's wrong?" She says, petting his head as he spits bile. His eyes are bloodshot and he's on the verge of tears and his shame burns him from the inside out. His disgust must be evident on his face, because his mother kneels down next to him and tries to draw him into a hug.
She listens to his rambling and lets him get it all out before she pushes away, draws his face up towards her, but Derek cannot meet her eyes. "Look at me, honey." She says calmly, but when he looks at her, her eyes are wet with tears, and she looks as broken as he feels on the inside (and probably looks like on the outside too). "You are nothing like Peter. What you and Stiles have is special. It isn't the same! The fact that you're punishing yourself for wanting Stiles in a more carnal way, is not ideal, but it is reassuring. It shows me that you're aware of his age, that you aren't going to force him into something he doesn't want. That you're willing to put him before yourself. And that is why what you have is special. Peter didn't care who he hurt. He manipulated people into doing what he wanted -- what he did was not okay. But baby, you are not him."
It doesn't do much to reassure Derek, but he lets his mother hold him and tell him how he's wonderful and special and not a sick pervert like Peter.
***
Stiles notices Derek is more withdrawn. He doesn't kiss Stiles in the hallways and he flinches every time Stiles touches him. The haunted look on Derek's face makes him look pale and sickly like his mother does when she comes back from the hospital after her chemo, and it scares Stiles.
"Are you dying?" Stiles asks, biting his lip to stop it from quivering; his eyes are wide and shiny.
"What?" Derek asks, bewildered by Stiles' line of questioning.
"You stopped kissing me. You look pale and sick all the time. My mom looks the same when she's back from her Chemo. I know that some supes have their own diseases, even if human ones don't affect them." Stiles sits down next to Derek, shoulders touching.
"Why would you-- No, Stiles. I'm not dying."
Stiles can hear the annoyance in Derek's voice, but his worry wins out. "Then what is it? Did I do something? Why won't you look at me, or let me touch you?"
"You're touching me right now!" Derek pushes off of the couch angrily and
"You know what I mean!"
"I know." Derek sighs before he takes Stiles' hands into his own. "I know. But you're twelve, Stiles. It isn't right. You haven't even hit puberty. What does that make me?"
"Mine." Stiles whispers, hands reaching out to take Derek's face between open palms. "It makes you mine."
Derek closes his eyes and lets his head falling forward onto Stiles' delicate shoulders, Stiles' hands trapped awkwardly between Derek's face and Stiles' neck. "But you're a child." He sighs dejectedly.
"So?"
"Do you have any idea what you do to me? What it makes me want to do to you?" Derek can feel the heat of Stiles' blush and can hear the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat before Stiles pulls away shyly.
"I know about," Stiles says hesitantly before he breaks eye-contact with Derek and looks down and whispers, "sex, you know." It makes Derek want to wrap him up and never let the world sully Stiles' innocence. Stiles looks up at him then, eyes wide. "Have you ever done it?"
"What?"
"Had... sex?" Stiles asks, whispering the last word.
"No. I mean Sally Wilson had wanted to last summer. But it didn't feel right when she kissed me. Sex is more complex for werewolves... well, not always, but for a majority of werewolves."
"Oh." Stiles says. His lips are down-turned even though his voice is carefully devoid of emotion.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Stiles, you know you can tell me anything right? I know your age makes me uncomfortable, but you have to know that you will always be my priority. You will always be the only thing that matters."
"It's nothing." Stiles says, voice small and vulnerable. "It's stupid. It's just- I just- I- Sally Wilson kissed you first. And it makes me angry and makes me want to- urgh!" Stiles makes a violent gesture, and Derek's eyes widen in surprise.
"I told you it was stupid!" Stiles whines and punches Derek's shoulder when Derek laughs after his initial shock.
"It's not stupid." Derek says soberly, grabbing Stiles' flying fists between his hands. "I swear, it isn't stupid. I just- I thought I felt more possessive about you than you did about me."
"You know you aren't like your Uncle Peter, right? That this is not like what he did?" Stiles says sagely.
"How did you-- What?"
"I know you, Derek Hale. I know how your head works and I still l--." Stiles freezes all of a sudden, eyes wide and mouth still open on his half-formed words. Stiles closes his mouth and leans forward to press his mouth against Derek's. "I love you." Stiles says, softer than a whisper, and how can Derek not respond to that with everything that he has.
***
Stiles' mom is not getting any better, and Stiles' ADHD has been worst it has ever been while Derek's known him. The worst part of all of it is that Derek doesn't know what to do or how to help Stiles. He watches as Stiles spirals into chaos and Mrs. Stilinski wastes away, and it tears him apart knowing that there isn't anything he can do but be there for Stiles.
Derek visits her alone on days that he doesn't go with Stiles. She's always been his favorite person in school -- she has the kindest eyes he's ever seen. When the Doctors predict that she has another three good months in her, and Stiles spends three days crying through four tubs of ice-cream, he visits her. The remnants of his anger still bleeding through as he slides inside her room and sits down at her bedside. She's smile at him warmly, waiting.
"Stiles needs you." He says quietly, breaking the unusual silence between them. Her smile falters, and she looks far more pale and sickly than she did a few minutes ago.
"I don't know why you insist you don't want the bite." He says, angrily. "He is a wreck. He's only twelve! He should not have to know the pain of losing a parent!"
"Oh, honey!" She says tiredly, a silent tear slipping down her cheek.
"No! You don't get to 'Oh, honey!' me! How can you not want the bite if it could save you!? Why would you insist on putting him through this torture! Putting yourself through this torture." The anger leaves him suddenly when he realizes he's yelling at his mother-in-law who is sick; his mother-in-law who is suffering more than any one else because not only is her body failing her, but she has to say goodbye to everybody in her life. He's lost his steam, and he feels ashamed for his outburst, so he sits demurely in his chair, looking at the horrendous green booties the hospital makes them all wear when visiting Mrs. Stilinski.
"Did you know that I would have less than a twenty percent chance of survival from the bite?" She asks neutrally. "The more pure-blooded the less the chance of survival. Stiles would have a human chance of survival. But me? It's not worth the risk."
Derek opens his mouth to comment but she beats him to it. "I know it's twenty percent more than I have right now, but at least I have three months. If I took the bite, it would be today or tomorrow. And if I don't make it do you know what would happen?"
Derek looks down because even though he hasn't thought about it, he can imagine what it would be like. The guilt. For him, for the Stilinskis, but primarily for his mom.
"I can't do that to Talia. I can't put all of them through that." She smiles at him sadly, taking his hand into her fragile ones. "And that's why it won't work. Yes, I would love to watch him grow up, watch the two of you marry and have children, but I don't want to risk spending as much time as possible with him with the tiny chance that it might work."
"But aren't you worried about him?"
"He has you... why should I be?" She says sincerely, and he scrambles onto her bed to hug her tightly to his chest. They sit like that till the nurse's voice comes in over the speaker in the room to let him know that Visiting Hours are almost over.
"Derek." She calls out right before he pulls the door to her room open, and he turns around to face her. "Promise me you'll make sure he's happy?"
"I promise." He says solemnly before nodding at her and letting himself out of the room.
***
Three months pass by in a flurry of activity. The Hales and the Stilinskis spend Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years together and, apart from Mrs. Stilinski's frailty, there is no indication that anything bad is coming their way.
Her condition starts deteriorating rapidly after that, but even though she is incredibly strong, she is also incredibly tired. She's fought for two extra months and hopes she can watch Stiles turn thirteen. She succumbs to her disease a week before Stiles' birthday.
Stiles doesn't cry and it scares Derek.
Instead, Stiles becomes quiet and withdrawn. He shies away from people's touch, but nothing cuts as deeply as the way he shies away from Derek. Derek doesn't know what to do and nobody else does either, so he sits next to Stiles, positioned carefully so that he doesn't accidentally touch Stiles, and waits.
The sheriff comes in to leave them food, even though Stiles' food always remains untouched, and Derek can see the shadows under his eyes and the way they darken everyday. He can see the same helplessness he feels mirrored in the Sheriff's sad blue eyes. He pretends he cannot hear the Sheriff's silent sobs outside the door, but at the end of the day, just before he heads home, he grabs the Sheriff's shoulder in a reassuring gesture and tries to give him some comfort from his physical pain. He can see the immense toll the lack of sleep, his wife's death and his son's psychological withdrawal is taking on the Sheriff's health and he wants to prevent any permanent damage, however small. For Stiles.
Because he just knows that when (not if, when) Stiles comes out of his mourning stupor, he's going to look over the Sheriff's health with a fine toothed comb. Derek just knows this.
And he isn't wrong.
***
Nobody knows what makes Stiles come back. Stiles doesn't talk about it. If anyone brings it up, he starts withdrawing again until he snaps out of it with a sarcastic remark that borders on hurtful.
Derek would take the caustic words over the glazed eyes any day.
Stiles also becomes microscopic about his father's diet. Microscopic as in he looks at it through a microscope. Derek is an unsuspecting victim of the chalky health food and overbearing worried-ness that Stiles is exuding. The difference is that Derek is the only one who doesn't complain.
***
The package comes in and nobody thinks twice about it as Laura rips it open hoping to find something to tease Derek about.
It seems like everything Before Stiles happened a lifetime ago, like a dream or a vivid hallucination. But the package comes in and it breaks the precarious semblance of normality that had settled in after Amélie passed away.
Derek finds the contents of the envelope sitting on display on the Kitchen Counter and his blood runs cold. He got into USC on a swimming Scholarship. Before Stiles, Derek had been excited about college but now he can't even recall the phantom feeling of excitement for college. USC was the only school Derek had applied to. It was far away from home so that he wasn't expected to come back every holiday, and close enough so that he could come home if he wanted to. But it is still 10 hours away. And just the thought of being that far away from Beacon Hills, from Stiles, makes Derek's skin feel like it's been stretched too tight across his bones.
Derek's family looks at him expectantly, ecstatic grins on their faces. But all that Derek can manage to choke out is a, "Don't tell Stiles!" before he runs out the door.
But Derek's never been good at keeping secrets. Especially from the people he cares the most about. Stiles, bless him, puts his hands on either side of Derek's face and grins up at him brightly. "That is so cool! My mom was a Woman of Troy! I can't wait to come visit you! You are going to be awesome and Los Angeles is going to love you!"
"You are going to go, right?" Stiles asks cautiously when he notices Derek's melancholy, and pulls his hands away from Derek's face.
"I don't- You- I can't- It's too far away!" Derek stutters.
"Dude! It's college! From what my mom always said, it's supposed to be far away!" Stiles exclaims animatedly.
"From you." Derek cuts Stiles off, knowing that with the Humanism that Mrs. Stilinski exuded, some had to have rubbed off on Stiles.
"Oh." Stiles' eyes widen in surprise and he blinks owlishly at Derek.
"Yeah. 'oh!'" Derek pushes himself away from Stiles, embarrassed by his, apparently one-sided, neediness.
"But you have to go." Stiles says adamantly as he follows Derek's retreat and refuses Derek's withdrawal.
"Do you want me to go?" Derek asks, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice.
"I want you to be the best person you can be. So I don't want you to stay because of me. I am yours and you are mine. We have the rest of our lives to be together. But right now, you've got to do what's right for you. Because it's your time. Your time, out there!"
"Did you just--" Derek is looking at him gobsmacked.
"Yeah." Stiles grins sheepishly, tucking his head under Derek's chin.
Derek doesn't have to leave for another three and a half months anyway.
***
Derek ignores everything that isn't Stiles for the rest of summer. He doesn't check his email or try to meet up with Camden or his other friends. He just spends as much time as he can with and around Stiles. His family gives him all the space he needs, even Laura. Surprisingly, it is the Sheriff who brings up the fact they he has two days left to pack all his stuff up for his road trip to L.A. and Stiles growls at his father in a way that leaves Derek feeling both horrified and proud at the same time.
But the fact remains that they didn't prepare.
Stiles helps Derek pack, his scent lingering on everything he touches and Derek hopes it will be enough for him to bear the separation. Stiles even packs a few of his own belonging in with Derek's ('For when I come to visit you!'). The night before he has to drive out, The Sheriff throws a surprise 'Bon Voyage' party for him, the party isn't as much as a surprise as the two gifts that he is given (although one is technically not a gift for him). The gift that isn't his, is actually Stiles'. The Sheriff gives him his mom's old phone and the only two non-emergency numbers programmed into it are Derek's own and the Sheriff's. The second gift comes at the end of the night when his family is packing up left overs and heading out. The Sheriff stands close to him and says, you can stay over tonight if you want to. Derek nods and pointedly doesn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Stiles on the other hand hollers his happiness and jumps into the Sheriff's lap and hugs him tightly.
Nothing untoward happens between them. Neither of them even considers it. They curl up together in Stiles' tiny twin bed and just look at each other, the anxiety of leaving heavy in the pits of their stomachs. Stiles traces his fingertips down Derek's face, and cups his cheeks. He moves forward and presses his lips lightly against Derek's, and Derek just sighs loudly and pulls him even closer.
"I'll call you all the time." Stiles says, pulling back.
"Anytime."
"And I'll come and visit you with your family. They already told me I have a permanent seat on the ride down every time."
"I'll come home a lot."
"You shouldn't." Stiles whispers, and it makes Derek pull away, hurt. "You'll be disrupting your flow. And you need to do well. And apparently the swim meets are over the weekends and there's extra Olympic trainings on the weekends. And I want you to be able to reach your potential. So you be there and do your best and I'll be there for you. I know you'll be there for me when it's my turn to go to college and shine."
Derek pulls Stiles close again and whimpers against his neck. "I don't know how I'll manage anything when you will to be seven hundred miles away from me."
"Me neither."
"You'll have Scott to distract you and make you do stupid shit. I'll be in a new place away from my pack, my mate, my territory. I'll be around strange people with strange habits and different cultures. And I'm going to be so terrible at it."
"Oye! You're not allowed to say you're terrible at something if you haven't tried. You might surprise yourself."
"When did the thirteen year old become smarter than the college bound teenager?"
"Shut up."
"I love you." Derek whispers sincerely against Stiles' lips, and Stiles responds in kind.
They wake up curled tightly around each other. Stiles is clingy like a leech and is inconsolable whenever someone tries to separate them. In the end, Derek threatens to not leave at all. But Stiles whines as he pulls away to hit Derek, but whispers mournfully as he draws away, "don't forget me."
"I couldn't if I tried." He ghosts against Stiles' lips and presses a chaste kiss to his lips, before Stiles pulls away and runs inside the Hale house. Cora, bless her heart, distracts him with brownies as he says goodbye to the rest of his family and the Sheriff before he gets into his car and takes a deep breath and shifts the gear into drive.
Five minutes later his phone goes off, an unfamiliar number is calling him. He presses the accept button.
"I told you I'd call you all the time. Drive safe. Love you." Derek chuckles at Stiles, but he smiles his entire drive down, especially when he turns on his stereo and finds a mix tape Stiles made for him, complete with personalized messages between songs.