Archive of Our Own ^beta

Stiles tugged at his sleeves, trying to hide the bandages that wrapped around his wrists and arms. It was a fruitless effort, considering they also wrapped around his palms and fingers, but he tried anyway. He didn’t want to look different. Weak. Not on his first day at a new school.

Though he supposed a lot of people would look different and weak here. Beacon Hills was known as the safest town in all of the United States for supernaturals, and had turned into somewhat of a sanctuary for them. A place for supes to hide after their lives blew up in their own home towns. A place for supernatural refugees, in other words.

Stiles’s Dad had heard rumours that people from all over the world moved here, from as far away as Japan. Stiles didn’t know if that was true, or if his dad was just desperately grasping for a safety net. It didn’t matter much now. They’d spent everything they had getting here, there was no turning back.

Hence the need for a good impression.

With a deep breath, and one last tug on his sleeves, Stiles stepped through the doors. He had been here yesterday to get his schedule and a tour of the place, but the school had been empty then. It was a lot more intimidating now that there were students walking around everywhere.

Students who looked perfectly normal and healthy. No one had any obvious injuries like Stiles did. No one looked overly supernatural, either, and Stiles was starting to feel like he was the only freak here.

It wasn’t a new feeling.

It didn’t help that every bump hurt his healing skin. He winced when one particularly large boy knocked into his shoulder, and Stiles went careening into a row of lockers. He bit his tongue instead of crying out, like he wanted to do. He closed his eyes and prayed the stupid tears would stay behind his closed lids.

No one else was cowering against the lockers and trying not to cry. No one else was a weak freak of nature pretending to be a normal high school kid.

His dad was wrong, he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have even come to Beacon Hills. He should have fucking stayed when-

A hand gripped his shoulder and pain shot through his skin. Stiles jerked away with a pained gasp, his eyes flying open to spot his attacker -

A boy stood in front of him, his hands up and his face calm. He looked to be about Stiles age.

His eyes were hazel.

“Hey, you okay?” The kid asked, his face neutral and his hands still raised. Stiles looked him up and down, he didn’t look like a threat. A few other people had stopped and were looking at Stiles too, but they weren’t hovering around him or anything. He still had exits out if he wanted them.

He nodded, taking in a deep breath.

“Okay,” the boy said, dropping his hands to his sides and tucking them into his jacket pockets. “Sorry about Boyd,” the boy nodded to the giant teenager who had knocked Stiles aside like he was a fly. “He had a growth spurt this summer and is still getting used to being the size of a giant.”

Stiles felt his lips twitch. He shook his head, “it’s fine.”

“You’re Stilinski, right? You just moved here with your dad?”

“Stiles,” he corrected automatically, though he didn’t know how this kid already knew about him. Did news really travel that fast here?

“Alright, you know where you’re heading?”

“I…” Stiles looked down at his crumpled schedule. “English, with Ross.”

“Hey, me too,” the boy smiled, stepping a little closer to him. “Let’s walk together. I’m Derek, by the way. Derek Hale.”

Derek Hale. One of the many children of Talia Hale then, the Alpha of the wolf pack here. Talia was the main reason the sanctuary was so safe for supers, Stiles had met her a few days ago at their ‘official greeting’ when they had arrived… Derek had her hair. It explained how Derek knew who he was already. His whole family was probably keeping an eye on Stiles… making sure he wasn’t doing anything to cause their supernatural paradise harm.

Derek was standing beside him, watching him expectantly. Stiles didn’t know what else to do but follow his lead.

They walked in silence, which Stiles appreciated. In the past he probably would have broken the silence, filled it with random babbling, but now… now he had a rule not to talk to people he didn’t really know. Which was everyone, now.

He was learning to appreciate the silence.

The rest of the onlookers wandered away as Derek and Stiles walked down the hall. No one else bumped into Stiles on the way to the class. Students parted as they walked through the halls like they were walking through the Red Sea. Stiles appreciated it, but he made him a little wary on the boy beside him.

When they arrived in the class, Stiles sat down in the one of the chairs in the front row, nodding his head at Derek in thanks. He expected Derek to keep on going back, since no one ever wanted to sit in the front row, or to sit with his friends that he was sure to have. Derek sat down right beside him though, and started pulling out a notebook and pens. Settling in for the long haul.

Stiles didn’t know if he was here to protect Stiles from the rest of the students, or to protect the rest of the students from Stiles.

Either way, Stiles didn’t want to find out. He pulled out his notebook and buried his face into it. He ignored the world around him and only flinched slightly when his hand gripped around his pen.

If Derek looked over at him in sympathy when he flinched, Stiles pretended he didn’t see it.  

--

“Did he say anything about what happened to his hands?”

Derek sighed. He’d spent the entire day trying to help Stiles relax, making sure he got to all of his classes alright, and offering him a seat beside Derek in the cafeteria. Stiles had accepted all of these things with a nod of his head, and that was all.

Derek knew he could talk, he had said his name was Stiles, after all, but Derek hadn’t heard him say another word the whole day.

Now, Derek and the rest of the pack teenagers were heading back to his place, and the other teens were hounding him on information. Just because he’d spent the whole day with the kid did not mean he knew anything about him though.

“I already told you, he didn’t talk,” Derek said, glaring at his younger sister.

Cora shrugged, “he looks like a mummy.”

“He looks like he’s been seriously injured,” Scott said. Ever since he started working at Deaton’s clinic, Scott’s been pointing out injuries. Derek knew he had a point, but he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Did you see the way he flinched when Boyd bumped into him? They probably go all the way up to his chest.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Isaac asked. “Did your mom say anything about-”

“Our mother doesn’t tell us all the details of new refugee’s Isaac, you know that.” Derek snapped. “You all know that, and you should all know better than to ask. Half of you came here exactly the same way he did.”

Isaac and Scott both backed off, slouching in their chairs with sheepish expressions. Boyd glanced at them with amusement, but Erica and Cora ignored them entirely in favour of switching to gossiping with each other about someone else. Derek huffed, turning his attention back to the road. He missed the days when Laura was here and would drive them home. Derek had stupidly thought it would be fun to take her place, lead their little teenage pack and drive them to and from school in the mini-van that was actually his moms.

It turned out to be more boring than anything else.

His mind wandered back to the quiet boy as he sat at a red light. Scott had been right, Stiles was obviously hiding an injury. He had so many layers on Derek hadn’t been able to tell, but he was pretty sure his hands weren’t the only thing that were wrapped tight.

He smelled of pain whenever he held his pen too tightly.

A car honked behind him, and Derek shook his head, pulling through the green light. He pushed thoughts of Stiles out of his mind, telling himself he would learn all the answers from Stiles eventually. He just had to be patient, give the kid some time.

Part of him hoped that was true.

A larger part of him knew that was wishful thinking.

--

Stiles lay on his new bed, staring up at his new ceiling. The house he and his dad were staying at was small but cozy. Two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. Already furnished, including nick nacks in the kitchen that reminded Stiles of cliche grandmothers on TV. It was a good little home.

It just wasn’t his home.

His home had been comforting, not just cozy. His home was colourful, and covered in pillows that a person actually used, not to sit for decoration. His home had Stiles height charted on their bathroom wall, a crayon drawing he and Heather had drawn together in the crawl space, a dented water heater because his dad kicked it everytime it broke.

His home had his mom.

But it wasn’t there anymore. She wasn’t there anymore… and it was all Stiles fault.

If he had controlled himself better. If he hadn’t burst out magic at the first sign of danger- if he hadn’t been a complete idiot , none of this would have happened-

“Kiddo, breath.”

Stiles eyes flew open and he dragged in a ragged breath. It hurt his chest, which told him he hadn’t been breathing for a while now. He hadn’t even noticed.

His dad sat beside him, looking down at him in concern. “That’s good. Breath with me,” his dad took an exaggerated breath in, and Stiles followed his lead. “Good, there you go.” A few more breaths later, his dad placed a hand on Stiles hair, ruffling it gently. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I was just-” Stiles blinked back tears, “remembering everything. I’m fine.”

His dad didn’t look like he believed him, but he accepted it for now. “One of the Hales dropped off a lasagna, you hungry?”

He wasn’t, not at all, but he followed his dad to the kitchen and had a large helping anyway. His dad would worry if he didn’t eat, and that’s all Stiles cared about anymore anyway.

It was all he had left to care about.

--

Stiles was… odd. That’s the only way Derek could think of describing him. Derek supposed he could describe the kid as quiet, but that wasn’t it. It was an odd quiet.

He often opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, and never did. He was smart, but he never answered any of the questions the teachers asked. He was obviously in a lot of pain from whatever had happened to him before coming to Beacon Hills, but he seemed to hate himself for even flinching, let alone telling someone about it.

The most odd thing of all was he followed Derek around everywhere but never actually talked to him. Most of the time he didn’t even look like he wanted to be there. Stiles followed Derek around almost begrudgingly, like he would get into trouble if he didn’t. Like it was Derek who had told him he had to in the first place.

Which he hadn’t, of course. He hadn’t talked to Stiles at all since the first day, actually, other than hellos and goodbyes. He figured Stiles would talk to him if he felt up to it… apparently he never felt up to it.

So for all of September, and then all of October, there Stiles was, at Derek’s side. He sat beside him in all three of their shared classes, he sat beside him in the cafeteria, and he stomped past him on his way to his Jeep at the end of every day. Derek had asked his mother if he should be doing anything about it, but his mom had waved him off.  

“Trauma shows itself in different ways,” she had said. She was the only one who knew what had happened to the Stilinski’s, so Derek hadn’t asked anything else. He didn’t want to know anyway. Not unless Stiles told him himself.

Something Derek was starting to doubt would ever happen.

--

Stiles was starting to like Beacon Hills.

The kids at the high school were nice, even the guard that had been assigned to him, Derek, was a big softy most of the time. Stiles knew this because not only did Derek try to talk to him while simultaneously trying to give him space (an impressive feat), he also always let his little sister take his dessert at lunch, and always drove a hoard of kids home at the end of the day. Stiles had seen this all happen in the first week, and decided the guy wasn’t so scary after all.

He was still his guard though, so Stiles kept his ‘no talking’ rule going.

Beacon Hills was also a lot nicer than the other places the Stilinski’s had lived. In Texas, where Stiles was born and had lived for most of his childhood, the heat was relentless. Stiles had spent most of his childhood years inside, fearing the sun and the burns it would bring.  

And then after the-after him and… After. Stiles and his dad and fled north, and had somehow ended up in North Dakota. The winter there was almost as bad as the Texan summers, and Stiles and his father had had no real idea of what to do with it. They had only stayed there long enough for Stiles to heal for the journey to Beacon Hills, but it had been enough for Stiles father to gain a newfound hatred for snow. Beacon Hills mild temperature suited them both just fine.

The main reason that Stiles liked Beacon Hills though, was that this town made his dad smile again.

His dad was the newest deputy at Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Station. He had given up everything to go with Stiles, and he looked so happy to be working in law enforcement again. Stiles was sure he had accepted a fate of working odd jobs to get by, maybe becoming a manager at a grocery store someday if he was lucky.

But here in Beacon Hills, they let him be a deputy. They trusted him with his own patrol car and everything, and his dad had never looked happier than the day he came back from his first shift, tired but smiling.

His dad partner was the young and spry rookie, Danielle Hale. Officer Stilinski and Officer Hale apparently got along instantly, because all of a sudden the Stilinski’s were being invited to everything.

Birthday parties, full moon parties, you name it, the Hales did it. The Stilinski’s did not. His dad might have wanted to go, may have even gone to a few, on his way home once or twice, but Stiles refused. Just because the Hales were nice enough to let Stiles live here, relatively free, did not mean they were opening themselves to Stiles with open arms.

They liked his dad, because everyone liked Stiles dad, but Stiles himself? No. Once they saw him there, they would realize their mistake. His dad would stop getting those invitations, his smile would fade, and Stiles would go back to feeling like the shittiest piece of gum on the bottom of his father’s shoe.

So, no. His dad could go if he wanted, but Stiles was staying at home. Alone. Where it was safe for everyone.

If that meant he was mostly isolated, that was fine. He was getting used to the whole not talking to anyone thing anyway.

--

“Stop looking at me like that, this is for your own good,” his dad said, not even taking his eyes off the road to see Stiles glare. “You weren’t listening to reason, kiddo, I had to do something.”

“You had to cuff me to your car to drag me to a Halloween party?” Stiles drawled, “really? You had to do that.”

His father had the decency to wince. “Look, I know that ever since… ever since we lost your mother, things have been hard. For you more that me, I know that, okay?” His dad looked over at him. His eyes were sad, but Stiles refused to be pulled in by them. “But you need to live your life Stiles. I’ve watched you go to and from that school every day for the past two months, and you haven’t looked happy about it once. You’re not making any friends. I haven’t gotten a single noise complaint from your teachers-”

“I thought you would be happy about that,” Stiles said, slumping in his chair. The cuff jingled as his wrist moved with him, he pulled on it halfheartedly.

“I’m happy when you’re you, kid. This isn’t you. You’re a talker, hell, you’re a shouter, when you’re happy. I just want you to get back to that.” They pulled up and his dad put the car into break. They stared at each other for a long time before his dad leaned over and uncuffed him from the car door. “Please, Stiles, just give the Hales a chance. Dani told me her cousin is your age, and he’s a good kid. He showed you around the first day, right? Derek? Maybe he could be-”

“Derek Hale is not my friend,” Stiles cut in, pulling his wrist out of his father’s hands. “I’ll stay for your dumb party, but you can’t force people into being my friend, Dad.”

His dad sighed, but Stiles ignored him. He climbed out of the car without another word and stared up at the large Hale mansion with nerves rolling in his stomach. The Hales didn’t want him here, the were just being nice to the new officer at the station. They would realize soon enough that they had to reword their invitations to ‘Stilinski senior only.’

“Hey, Stiles! You made it!” A voice called from his left. Stiles turned to find Derek walking towards him, dressed up as Wolverine from X-Men. It was old school Wolverine too, with the yellow leotard and everything. Stiles didn’t have the energy to be impressed with this when he was too busy being annoyed. Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes, of course they would make Derek be his guard here too. He was doing such a great job of it at school, why not let him do it at home? “Everyone’s gathering in the backyard if you want to come join.”

Stiles nodded his head and followed after the teen. When Derek asked him if he was going to pull out a costume, Stiles shook his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Derek let the topic drop and lead them towards Scott and the rest of his marry gang. They all greeted Stiles warmly, and Stiles gave them all tight lipped smiles. He saw his dad watching them all with approval before going off to talk to Derek’s parents.

Hopefully Stiles could convince him to leave soon, after he somehow proved that he was, in fact, making friends without breaking his no talking rule.

The night wasn’t horrible. There was a lot of food, like a lot, apparently werewolves ate a lot, as well as songs and games. Stiles didn’t participate in any of these, but he did enjoy watching the rest of the pack make fools of themselves. Derek in particular seemed to have no shame as he played pin the tail on the wolf with his younger cousins. He stumbled and sprained his toe and eventually pinned the fake tail right on his cousin Malia’s nose, much to the crowd of children’s delight. Malia herself rolled in the grass with glee when Derek took his eye mask off and frowned in mock confusion at what he saw.

The rest of the teens walked off eventually, growing bored with the games, but Stiles stayed to watch some more. Derek was his guard, after all, if Stiles left Derek would have to follow him, and that wasn’t fair to anyone. It had nothing to do with the fact that Stiles found this sweet, or charming, or downright adorable. Not at all.

Stiles made himself comfortable on the little hill of grass behind the kids, grinning when Derek brought out game after game to entertain them. The night grew dark, but Stiles didn’t mind. He forgot his desire to leave early with the Derek show in front of him.

That is, until Derek crouched down all of a sudden, glancing behind himself warily. “Alright gang, it’s almost time for the big finale. We’ve talked about this though, and I think you’re all ready. You guys think you’re ready?”

The kids didn’t cheer, like Stiles was expecting them to, and a sliver of uncertainty ran up Stiles spine. What was it about the big finale the kids weren’t excited for?

Derek glanced over the group, a crease of concern appearing between his big brows. Stiles wondered if it was his own unease that Derek was sensing. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here, remember? And I’m going to stay with you guys the whole time. Besides, Dani promised to start at 9 on the dot, so we still have a few-”

A blast let out before Derek finished his sentence - loud and bright, directly above all of them. Without thinking Stiles jerked to his feet and raised his arms, creating a protective bubble around him, Derek, and all the kids. He didn’t take anyone else into account though, and a handful of people went flying away from the blue sphere he’d built out of thin air around them.

A few of the kids started to cry, but Stiles ignored them. His eyes scanned the sky for the threat.

“Stiles,” Derek said, approaching him cautiously. Derek was putting himself between him and the kids. Did he think Stiles was the one who made the blast? He made the protective barrier, not the blast! They were being attacked, and his stupid guard still thought that Stiles was the threat here?! “Stiles, calm down, it’s just fireworks.”

“What?” Stiles asked stupidly. He didn’t put the barrier down, even as one of the kids started pounding on it. “No, there was -”

“Fireworks. It was just fireworks, see?” Derek pointed out, to the adults who were starting to circle around Stiles bubble in concern. “No one here is going to hurt you, you’re safe. Put the shield down.”

“It was fireworks?”

Derek nodded, “fireworks, that’s all it was.”

Stiles dropped his arms, the bubble went down with them. Kids ran out, seeking their parents comfort. Stiles watched them go in a daze.

“Jesus, Stilinski, I had no idea you had that in you,” Isaac said, walking up to them. To Stiles horror, he was wiping blood off of his face. “That shield sent me flying right into a tree.”

“I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Stiles felt his hands start to shake, so he pulled them into fists. That did little to stop the full body tremor that was taking over his body. “ Please , I didn’t mean it.”

Scott jogged up beside Isaac, also wiping blood off from under his nose. “That was kind of fun, flying through the air like that. The broken nose not so much, but the flying part I would definitely do again.”

Oh god. Oh god, he’d hurt more than one of them. How many he had actually hurt, he didn’t know, but two was enough, wasn’t it? Two made him a liability, a plague on the pack that they would want to get rid of.  

His knees gave out, and it was only because Derek had been standing so close to him that Stiles didn’t face plant into the dirt.

“Go get my mom and his dad,” Derek said, not taking his eyes off Stiles. Scott and Isaac followed his orders, running off without argument.

Stiles clung to Derek’s shirt, “please Derek, please, even if you send me away, my dad didn’t do anything. It’s just me, he’s human, please let him stay here.”

“Stiles, what are you talking about?”

--

Derek’s eyes widened in confusion as Stiles babbled at him.

“I know it’s not up to you, but you’re like, my guard, right? You’ve been keeping an eye on me? Tell your mom I wouldn’t lie about this, my dad deserves to stay here. He’s happy here, please let him stay!”

Guard? Keeping an eye on him? “Stiles, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stiles face crumpled, his hands clung to Derek’s shirt tighter as tears and snot dripped off his chin. Derek frantically tries to think of the right thing to say. “You think, you think I’m your guard? That I’ve been watching you to, what, make sure you don’t do any magic? Stiles, that’s ridiculous. Beacon Hills is a sanctuary for supernaturals. We allow people to use their magic. I was just trying to be your friend.”

Stiles breath hitched. “My friend?”

“Yes, you’re friend. I’m not going to tell if you slip up trying to protect me and a bunch of children from fireworks. You were trying to help, right? No one can be mad about that.”  Stiles was looking at him like he didn’t believe him. He was also only taking in these weird quick breaths, Derek inched forward a little. “Hey, listen to me, no one is mad at you. You’re fine. So, breath with me.” Derek gently withdrew Stiles hand from clutching at his shirt, and placed it on his chest, taking in a slow, deliberate, breaths.

It took a minute, but eventually Stiles started to copy him.

His mom and Mr. Stilinski ran up a second later, the later of them crashing to their knees beside the boys, “Stiles, kiddo, you okay?” Stiles dad ran his hands over his son, checking for injuries. His mom looked like she wanted to do that same thing, and Stiles looked at her in surprise when she ran a hand over Stiles’s neck before Derek’s.

“I’m okay,” Stiles nodded, swallowing nervously and leaning into his dad’s touch. “Dad, I’m fine.”

“I heard what happened. Did you- are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles looked over at Derek, a slight smile tugging on his lips. “My friend helped me out.”

--

Stiles was different after that. He opened up a bit, relaxed. Starting talking more… Okay, he started talking a lot.

All of those times that Derek noticed Stiles hesitating, stopping himself from saying whatever he opened his mouth to say, those were gone. Stiles started every day now not only saying hello to Derek, but everyone in their classes. He answered questions before the teacher asked them. He joked around at lunch, and accepted Derek’s invitations to hang out after school. Stiles was loud, and kind of obnoxious, but Derek didn’t mind.

Actually, Derek found that he enjoyed it… perhaps a bit too much.

Cora and Erica teased him about it, but Derek couldn’t help it. Whenever Stiles joked with him, Derek would lean in and joke right back. If that was flirting then, whatever, they were teenagers, they were having fun.

And if at night when no one was around and Derek was lying in bed thinking only of Stiles then… well, no one had to know that part.

--

Stiles finally had the last of his bandages removed three months after arriving in Beacon Hills. His nurse here, Melissa McCall, was very nice about not commenting on all of his grotesque scars. She was the only one he let see them, not even his dad has seen them all at once. He thanked her for her help, and put back on all of his layers, with the new addition of gloves.

“We have people here you can talk to, Stiles,” Melissa said before Stiles left. “People who can help you.”

“I’m fine.”

Melissa’s eyes danced down to Stiles covered hands. Stiles shoved them in his pockets. “If you ever need to talk, they won’t judge. I won’t judge if you-”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” Stiles assured her, walking out the door.

He didn’t need a therapist to tell him the scars were here forever. He’d already accepted that on his own.

--

“Nice gloves, loser,” Jackson said, leering at Stiles across the lunch table.

“Shut up, Jackson,” Derek said.

Stiles didn’t even look up from his food.

“I said nice gloves.” Jackson said. Derek rolled his eyes.

“I know, I heard you,” Stiles said. The entire table quieted down at the calm but steel tone in Stiles voice. They were all used to Jackson being a dick, no one had heard this from Stiles before. “I chose to ignore you, because you’re an asshole.”

Jackson growled. “Well why are you wearing gloves? We’re inside, and we live in California!”

“I wear them because I want to, and I don’t have to explain myself to you.” The table between them started to shake, and Stiles abruptly stood up. The table only stopped shaking when Stiles was a few feet away.

Lydia flicked Jackson’s forehead. “Hey!”

“You’re such an ass, Jackson,” Derek said, standing up to follow after Stiles.

“It’s not my fault he’s so sensitive.”

The entire table sighed at him, and Derek knew he didn’t need to stick around to lecture the other boy. Everyone else would do it for him.

“Stiles, wait up,” Derek called, jogging to catch up as Stiles slammed open the doors leading to the field. “Stiles-”

“Don’t touch me.” Stiles stepped out of his reach, his eyes were squeezed shut. “I don’t know what- just don’t touch me.”

“It’s okay, no one’s going to get hurt. You’re safe here Stiles.” Derek held his hands up.

“You don’t know that, I could hurt you.” Stiles kept walking, distancing himself from the school.

“Have you hurt someone before?”

Stiles shook his head, “you saw me do it on Halloween.”

“I saw you knock a few people over, yeah, but have you ever really hurt someone? Intentionally?”

“No, but,” Stiles opened his eyes and turned towards him. He looked terrified. “They said I would. They all said if I was left to do whatever I wanted, I would kill them all-” Stiles jaw closed with a click.

Derek was willing to bet Stiles hadn’t meant to say that.

“Who said that?”

“No one, don’t worry about it.” Derek didn’t need to hear Stiles heartbeat to know that was a lie. “Just… I’m sick of people thinking I’m a freak,” Stiles kicked a rock, sending it scattering away from them. “All I want is to fit in.”

Stiles walked a few more feet before flopping down on the edge of the field, his back hitting the ground hard. Derek hesitated a moment before lying down next to him.

Stiles didn’t seem to mind the company. “I don’t think you’re a freak.”

Stiles turned his head, “I didn’t talk to you for two months, dude.”

Derek shrugged, “Isaac took a whole year to start talking. Scott took a few weeks. Boyd still doesn’t talk much, but I think that’s just who he is,” Derek turned his head in the grass. “You’re not the first person to come here with trauma, Stiles. You won’t be the last either. It’s who we are, it’s what Beacon Hills is here for.”

Stiles blinked at him. “You’re all wolves though. I’m… I’m just a freak.”

“No one thinks your a freak.”

“I’m pretty sure some people think I’m a freak. Jackson thinks I’m a freak.”

Derek growled, pushing himself up on his elbow and looking down at Stiles seriously. “I don’t think you’re a freak.”

“Then what am I?”

“You’re beautiful,” the word slipped out before it was even fully formed in his mind, and Derek felt his mouth open in shock.

He was even more surprised when Stiles pushed himself up and pressed their lips together. He pulled away a moment later, a wry smile on his lips.

“You don’t know what I look like under all these layers,” Stiles said, his voice sad.

Derek shook his head, “doesn’t matter. The best part of you is your eyes,” Derek raised a finger to run across Stiles cheek bone. “They sparkle-”

Stiles lips were on his again, and Derek was being pulled down onto the grass.

--

“I’ve never been outside of Beacon Hills. I’ve only heard the stories from everyone else about what it’s like out there.” Derek said. They were laying on Derek’s bed, stealing kisses whenever they had the chance.

Stiles dad was on a night shift, and no one liked the idea of Stiles staying home alone. The two of them were able to convince Talia that Stiles should sleep in Derek’s room, but they had to leave the door open. Cora had already walked by three times to grin at them knowingly.

“Laura wanted to get out of here, see the world before she has to become the next Alpha and gets trapped here forever… I don’t know if I care though. Everything I care about is here.”

Stiles searched Derek’s face. Everything he said was so serious, even his jokes were serious. Stiles couldn’t imagine a world were he wanted to stay in his hometown though. From his first memory, he knew he wanted to leave that place. Even before, when he wasn’t scared of the people around him, he didn’t like it there. It was small and hot and boring.

And it taught Stiles tha valuable lesson that normal people would never accept Stiles for who he was.

But if his hometown had been Beacon Hills? He didn’t know if he would have wanted to leave either.

“What about you?” Derek asked. “Do you want to get back out there? See the world?”

Stiles shook his head. “It’s not worth it.”

“What do you mean? Not everything is expensive, I’m pretty sure Laura’s staying in hostels half the time.”

“No I mean the people. They’re not worth it.”

Derek got the little crease between his eyebrows again, like he did every time he was concerned. Stiles could tell he didn’t know what Stiles meant, but he didn’t have the words to explain any better.

A year ago words came to him as naturally as air… now though, it was a struggle to have a conversation sometimes. Especially when it was something important.

He missed his words. But that’s what happens when you purposefully don’t talk to people for months.

“Stiles…”

Stiles rolled over, putting his back to the other boy. If Derek didn’t want to leave Beacon Hills, there was nothing to warn him about. And if he did leave… werewolves were being accepted more and more every year in the general population. Derek would be fine.

It was Stiles who could never leave again.

—

Derek learned quickly that Stiles didn’t like to be touched. Derek could run his hands through Stiles hair, or cup his face, or even, at times, hold his hand, but everything else was off limits. If Derek places a hand on Stiles back, the boy stiffened. If he tried to lay a hand in his arm, Stiles would flinch away. Derek wasn’t sure if this was because Stiles was still in pain from whatever injury he had suffered from before arriving here, or if he just didn’t like to be touched.

Stiles never talked about it though, so Derek never brought it up.

He stuck to their unspoken rules, keeping his hands to Stiles head and hands. Stiles himself could have touched Derek wherever he wanted, but he didn’t. He touched Derek’s hands, arms, hair, and rarely anything else.

This all lead to a very slow moving relationship, but Derek was also fine with that. They were young, and Stiles had just suffered from some sort of traumatic experience. Derek didn’t want to push.

The time he spent alone in his room jerking off had doubled since he started seeing Stiles, but he was not going to push.

He did hope that Stiles would want to talk about it with him eventually.

—

Derek’s tongue was heavenly. Stiles could suck on it all day. He moaned as Derek pulled back to nip at his lip. He felt Derek shift above him as Stiles ran a gloved hand down his back, ending on the curve rut above his ass.

Stiles wanted to go farther, wanted to feel what Derek was like under his hand, wanted to peel Derek’s shirt off and see how he looked gleaming with sweat- but, he knew that as soon as he did that, Derek would want to do the same.

And Stiles didn’t want Derek to see underneath his shirt.

His heart rate must have changed, because Derek was now leaning away, looking down at him in concern.

“Everything okay?” Derek asked, leaning to the side. He was always trying to give Stiles what he needed, be it space or time. He was the sweetest boy Stiles had ever met.

Stiles didn’t deserve him. “Fine.”

Derek raised an unimpressed brow, “liar. We don’t have to keep doing this. Want to watch TV for a bit?” Derek was already up and moving away.

Stiles sighed in frustration. “I didn’t want to stop. I just- I’m not ready to show you my skin. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I don’t know if you’ll be ready.”

Derek turned back to him, his face scrunched in confusion, “what happened to your skin?”

“You know from…” Stiles curled his arms around his stomach. “The reason we came here.”

“No, I don’t know. You’ve never told me.”

Stiles huffed, “like I needed to tell you. My dad filled out all your forms, we explained why we’re here, why we had to run here, you know .”

“I don’t. My mother is the only one to read those, she doesn’t share with anyone… maybe my Uncle Peter, but only if she thinks it’s necessary.”

Stiles blinked, surprised. This whole time… “none of you know?”

“Have I ever acted like I did?”

“I don’t… you never asked what happened, I assumed…”

Deere shrugged, “it’s not my place to ask. I don’t know the details of what anyone who came here went through, not even Boyd or Isaac.”

Stiles took this information in. Somehow, it made him even more nervous about showing Derek his skin. “So you have no idea what I look like then. You don’t know what’s under these clothes.”

“I know you were injured… I know you don’t like to be touched. I don’t know what kind of injury you had, or if it still hurts you, or anything, really. I’ve accepted it though… I would... I would love to see it.”

Stiles swallowed, his heart pounded at the thought of Derek seeing his bare skin. He could only imagine how horrified he would look when he realized he was so wrong, when he saw how hideous Stiles really was. “You don’t know how ugly I am.”

“Stiles, you’re not ugly.”

“They thought I was ugly before I even had these scars.” Stiles whispered, feeling disgusting.

“Whoever said that was wrong,” Derek sounded so sure. Like he knew who Stiles was, knew what was hiding underneath these layers. Underneath his skin.

“I have to go.”

“Stiles, wait-“

Stiles was already walking past him though, heading for the door.

—

Derek hadn’t seen Stiles for over a week, and he felt horrible about it. He didn’t know if it was because he’d pushed Stiles too far, though he’d tried not to. He had really tried. He had wanted to reciprocate when Stiles ran a hand down his back. He’s wanted to pull all of their clothes off and-

Derek shook his head, that was not the point. He had moved back as soon as Stiles had started to smell off, uncomfortable. He hadn’t pushed, hadn’t even asked that many questions but…

But Stiles had left anyway. And Derek hasn’t seen him since.

A loud crash drew Derek out of his own head, he glanced up from where he was sulking on the couch to see his sister and cousins all running into the kitchen. He jumped up to follow after then.

“Oh God, Isaac! Are you okay?” Derek pushes past his cousins to get to his friends side. His uncle and sister were already guiding Isaac into a chair though, so there wasn’t much he could do but hover anxiously beside him.

“Scott and I were, uh, hanging out by the border,” Isaac glanced at the younger kids and Derek waved a hand to get him to continue. Isaac sneaking into the woods to make out with his boyfriend was not what caused an arrow to imbed into his shoulder. “A group of hunters showed up. The barrier held, but I guess I wasn’t fully inside… Scott pulled me in before they could do anything else.”

“Where’s Scott now?” Derek asked.

“He’s outside talking to your mother,” Uncle Peter answered, not taking his eyes off of the arrow coming out of Isaacs shoulder. “Isaac, how are you feeling? Woozy at all? Excruciating pain?”

“There’s no wolfsbane, if that’s what you’re trying to ask. I don’t think these were werewolf hunters.”

Derek frowned, “then who would they be hunting?”

His uncle did look at him then, his mouth thin in a straight line. Derek had a sudden idea for who these hunter were looking for. “Uncle Peter-“

“Get the kids downstairs into the basement, Derek. It will be safer down there, and I don’t want them seeing this. Cora can watch them if you must come back, but help her get them down.”

Derek scowled, but he did as his Uncle said when little Malia asked how they were going to get the arrow out of Isaacs shoulder. Peter was right, the kids didn’t need to see this.

It took Derek half an hour to get all of the kids safely downstairs, locked behind the granite door in their basement. They were all huddled together to watch some old Disney movie when Derek finally found a chance to slip out. Cora looked pissed that she was being left to do this alone, but Derek didn’t care.

He had to see what was happening.

He raced upstairs and burst into the kitchen, sliding to a halt when he saw his mother sitting calmly at the table, beside Officer Stilinski. Derek felt his heart stop. There was no reason for Mr. Stilinski to be here unless-

“It’s him, isn’t it?” He asked, “they’re here for Stiles.”

“Derek-”

“No, Mom, we have to do something! We have to-!”

“Derek,” his mother’s tone cut him short, her face softened when he trailed off into a whimper. “Sweetheart, we are doing something. Your father is patrolling the border with your aunts, and you Uncle Peter is watching Stiles now. Stiles has no idea these people are here, and we would like to keep it that way. In an hour Officer Stilinski and I are going to go talk to them. If they can’t be reasoned with, we are prepared to fight them off. Don’t worry, Derek, we won’t let anyone take Stiles.”

Derek felt his heart calm down. Right. His mother was the best Alpha in the whole world, of course she would have a plan.

Everything would be fine. Derek felt himself starting to relax.

So of course what was when Peter burst into the kitchen, “he’s gone.”

Mr. Stilinski stood up so fast, his chair went flying across the kitchen floor. “Stiles?”

“I’m sorry, he must have- I have no idea what he did. I’ve never been slipped before. One minute I was watching him, the next all trace of him was gone. Even his smell. I have no idea when he left, I couldn’t track him.” Uncle Peter should have sounded concerned, but mostly he sounded impressed. No one had gotten away from him before.

“We need to get to the border,” his mom said, already making her way to the door. It showed how distracted they all were that Derek was able to run after them without any of them telling him to stop. To stay behind with the kids.

Or maybe they already knew that he wouldn’t listen, even if they tried.

--

Stiles felt it as soon as the men arrived.

He’d been careful with his magic, had been laying low ever since they arrived in Beacon Hills, but he wasn't an idiot. He’d pushed his own energies into the barrier surrounding the town, added his own layer of protection, and felt it when the intruders ran up against it.

He knew these intruders. Knew their energy, and would recognize them anywhere. A part of him had been waiting to feel them again ever since he’d woken up in that small bed in North Dakota. The hunters weren’t going to just let him get away.

And Stiles wasn’t going to let them hurt anyone else trying to get to him.

He was a bit surprised when he realized Derek’s uncle was watching him from the tree line outside their house, but he was easy to evade. The pack meant well, but this wasn’t their fight. This wasn’t even his dad’s fight.

This was Stiles burden, and he was going to face them alone.

He walked with purpose towards where he knew the men were waiting. His converse shoes crunched through the leaves. He didn’t bother pulling his hood up when it started to rain. What was a little water when you were about to face your death anyway?

He saw them before they saw him. Three of them standing right beside the barrier, arms crossed and looking pissed. Stiles knew there were more of them, probably at a camp somewhere close by, but these were the three leaders.

These were the three he still had nightmares about.

Chad, Mike, and McMurrey, the three douchebags of the wild west. They dressed like they wanted to be cowboys, with broad brimmed hats and leather boots, but they didn’t act like cowboys. They didn’t give a shit about animals, for one thing, so there were no horses to ride, and the only cattle they cared about were of the human variety.

Magical humans, to be exact. They wanted to round them all up and get rid of them all. Stiles would just be another one in the hundreds they had killed. Along with his mother and Heather.

Stiles was almost looking forward to it.

He only wished he didn’t have to leave behind his dad and… and Derek. He was never supposed to get so close to Derek in the first place. Derek was never meant to be hurt by this.

With a sigh, Stiles stepped into the clearing. There was nothing he could do for Derek or his dad now, other than to get this over with quickly.

“There he is,” Chad sneered, “we were wondering if you would show, you little freak.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m here, let’s get this over with.”

“Walk through the barrier then, you coward,” Mike said. That was clearly what Stiles was about to do anyway, Mike had never been the smartest crayon in the box. Stiles decided to walk extra slow to the barrier, just to piss him off.

They were already going to kill him, right? Might as well have a little fun before the end.

“Stop joking around and get over here,” Chad said.

“No, don’t!” A voice called behind him. Stiles grimaced, turning to find Derek, Talia, Peter and his dad all running up towards him.

He had hoped to get away without him seeing.

“Stiles, get away from the barrier,” his dad called.

Stiles shook his head, “this is the only way, dad. I’m sorry. I can’t let anyone else get hurt.”

“No one else will get hurt, Stiles,” Talia said, her eyes flashing red, “I will make sure of it, I promise you. All you have to do is step away from these men.”

Stiles hesitated, for only a second, when a gun went off behind him, the bullet hitting Derek square in the stomach. He folded like a house of cards, clutching his stomach as his eyes flashed from the pain.

“Stop it!” Stiles shouted, “I’m coming with you, you didn’t have to do that!”

“You hesitated. Come with us, or someone else will get shot. Someone human this time.” McMurrey moved his gun from Derek to his dad, and Stiles didn’t hesitate this time. He walked past the border and stepped right into Chad’s waiting cuffs without a second thought.

“Stiles!” his father shouted after them. Stiles heard him running after them, so he pushed one last bit of magic out before Chad locked the cuffs. His dad, Peter and Talia all hit the ground, unable to chase after him anymore.

Stiles turned away from them before they could see the tears roll down his cheeks. He was sacrificing himself to save the people he cared about. That was brave. That was strong.

The last time they saw him, it wouldn’t be with tears.

—

The wound in Derek’s stomach took over an hour to heal, an hour that Derek did not have.

His mother made sure he was home safe before she ran off to talk to the adults of their pack. He didn’t know what they were planning. He didn’t know if they were planning anything.

All he knew was that he was lying in their couch, in horrible pain, and felt like he should be the one doing the comforting.

Because Officer Stilinski was sitting right next to him.

“We’re going to get him back,” Derek said when he was finally able to breath again. He sat up a bit, grimacing at the twinge of pain the motion caused.

“Stay down, Derek. Your parents are working on a plan, you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Why can’t we be part of the plan?”

Mr. Stilinski sighed, “because you were just shot and I- I don’t have the patience for plans right now. I’m going in with them, but I don’t need a plan. All I need is my gun.”

Derek swallowed. Adults weren’t usually that blunt with him. “Who are these guys?”

“Bad men who followed us here from Texas.”

“It was them, wasn’t it? Who hurt Stiles before. They’re the reason he’s so scared all the time.”

Mr. Stilinski looked down at his hands, running a thumb over his wedding ring. “Yeah, it was them.”

Derek scowled down at his stomach, wishing it was heal faster so he could chase after Stiles right now and beat these bastards who had taken him.

He looked up in surprise when Mr. Stilinski started talking again.

“Stiles and his mother are exactly the same. The magic they have, the magic Stiles will always carry with him, comes from inside. From their soul. Their spark. No one really understands why, and frankly I don’t care. It’s just who they are... “ Mr. Stilinski sighed, looked down to twirl his wedding ring again, “or that was who Claudia was… before those men came into our lives.”

Derek felt his eyebrows curl inwards in their own frown, “what happened?”

“Claudia came from a long line of Sparks, and they’ve all lived in the same place, a small town four hours west of Houston, Texas. And for the past four or so generations, it was their Spark that was keeping the place alive. Without them there, the earth would have just given up, turned to dust, and left everything barren. Everyone knew the family was important, but no one really knew why… until magic became known, a few years ago, and someone figured it out. A group from the Church who thought Claudia was doing the devil’s work, and that she was keeping their town small on purpose. They thought if she stopped doing what she was doing, the whole town would thrive.”

Mr. Stilinski scoffed at the thought, but Derek swallowed wearily. He knew that Claudia Stilinski didn’t survive this story.

“They couldn’t do anything at first though, because the town still loved Claudia. She’d lived there her whole life, and everyone thought her and Stiles were adorable. And besides that, they had no proof, it was all hearsay… but that didn’t mean things were fine. People started harassing all of us. Claudia had to quit her job. Stiles was bullied a lot at school, not that he ever told me the details…. It went on for months, until eventually, the men decided to make their own proof.

Chad, one of the men you saw take Stiles away, attacked Stiles and his friend Heather when they were leaving the school one day. He grabbed the girl and held a knife to her throat. My boy, my brave boy, didn’t even hesitate, he threw up his hand and sent a blast wave so strong it knocked both of them down… right in front of the high school.

Everyone was so shocked, so surprised by Stiles outburst, that they didn’t even notice that Heather had been cut at first… of course by the time they did, it was too late. The poor girl was gone. And everyone blamed Stiles.”

Derek let out a low growl, but Mr. Stilinski didn’t even notice. He just kept talking.

“They came for them that night, the entire town surrounded our house to drag a woman and her son out into the streets. I tried to keep them out, but they bulldozed me over. Claudia tried to fight them off, but they brought out these cuffs that held their powers in place… I still don’t know where they got those from. I have a feeling Chad and those two men already knew about the supernatural, had already had their eyes on Claudia long before this all happened, and were just waiting for the right moment. Hunters biding their time. Not that it matters now…”

“What did they do?” Derek asked.

“They tied them to stakes, and set the base on fire.” Derek felt his eyes widen in alarm. “It was like we were in medieval England again, burning witches for no good reason. Claudia managed to get those cuffs off, and she put all of her energy on getting Stiles out off there. She teleported him right to me, and I ran. She died alone, surrounded by people who hated her...”

The room was quiet after that, Derek listened to the steady beat of Mr. Stilinski’s heart.

“When Stiles arrived, he had bandages around his hands… he was burned?”

“Pretty badly. Most of his body is scarred now… he won’t let me see it.”

“Me neither.”

Mr. Stilinski snorted, finally looking over at Derek again. “Can’t say I’m sorry to hear that, son.”

Derek felt the tips of his ears burn, “sorry.”

“We’ll get him back, Derek. I’m not letting them take my son.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Mr. Stilinski’s mouth twitched, “I know.”

--

To Stiles surprise, the idiot trio don’t kill him right away. They throw him in a cage, cuffs still firmly in place, and leave him there. Stiles isn’t sure whether to be relieved or not. He had thought he at least knew what his fate was, now he was not so sure. It was confusing.

The cage was nothing more than a large dog kennel, sat beside a few tents in a campground in the middle of the freaking woods. Chad and Mike turned their backs on Stiles, sat down by a fire, and pulled out fucking hot dogs .

What the fuck?

“Um, what are you doing?” Stiles called out to them. “If you’re not going to kill me, can I at least be put in a cage that I sit up straight in?”

He was ignored.

McMurrey joined them a few minutes later, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Gerard said we should move now, so the wolves don’t find us. He wants the kid by daylight.”

Stiles didn’t know who the fuck Gerard was, but he did pick up on the fact that he was ‘the kid’. Where the fuck were they planning on taking him?

“Screw that,” Mike said, “it took us forever to find him, and then we had to catch him. Gerard did fuck all, he can wait.”

“Gerard is the one who found us and told us how much he would pay us for him.” McMurrey said, “without him, we would have killed the brat already and lost a chance to make $3 million, each! I think we should listen to him.”

Stiles felt his mouth fall open. These three assholes, the three people who Stiles had fucking feared for over a year, were nothing more than hired goons?

“He could have done it before we killed the bitch,” Chad cut in, “then we’d be making double. Mike is right, Gerard can wait.”

Stiles felt his insides burn with rage. These men had pretended to fucking care about his hometown, to claim that his mom was ‘the devil’ and they were ‘doing God’s work’ getting rid of her, but they didn’t care about any of that at all! All they cared about was money!

He slammed his cuffed fists against the kennel door, “if all you want is money, why did you even kill her, you sick fucks? What is wrong with you!”

McMurrey turned, sneering at him, “we didn’t kill the bitch, did we fellas? The town did that on their own.”

“That’s what I remember,” Chad said. “Though it was fun to get them all riled up, wasn’t it? It helped the community, Stiles,” Chad turned around to laugh at him, “you should be happy. They’re all doing much better without her there.”

“Fuck you.” Stiles snarled, “she was keeping that town alive .”

Chad shrugged, “it hasn’t rained there since she died, true, and all of the plants are dying, but the people? The people are free.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re a monster. Now shut up before we make you,” Mike said, throwing a stick at the kennel.

Stiles glared as it bounced off and fell beside the cage. All three men ignored him and turned back to their hot dogs, apparently having agreed that they were going to stay here and meet up with this Gerard person later.

Well screw that, Stiles wasn’t going to give them a later. He had thought he was sacrificing himself for the greater good, but these morons wouldn’t be able to kill a wolf if it was trapped in a mountain ash circle. They were nobody.

Stiles wasn’t about to hand himself over without a fight to people like that.

--

Derek jumped to his feet as soon as his mother stepped into the room. Mr. Stilinski pulled him right back down again.

“But-”

“Let them talk, Derek. We’ll leave soon.”

“But-”

Mr. Stilinski gave him a look, and Derek closed his mouth and glowered at him mother.

Uncle Peter laughed, “you’re good at getting kids quiet.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice. What’s the plan?”

His mother sat down in the armchair across from them, laying her hands on her knees gently. “We plan to leave at dusk, following their scent and catching them at night. From what you already told me, we know these men are inexperienced. They probably don’t know how to fight off werewolves when they’re actually fighting back.”

“Why are we waiting so long? Stiles could already be-” Derek shut his mouth before finishing that though.

They all knew what he was going to say anyway.

“Stiles is alive,” Talia placed her hand on her chest, “I can feel him.”

“What does that mean?” Mr. Stilinski asked.

“Everyone we accept into this town joins our pack, I can feel them all. Stiles is still alive.”

Mr. Stilinski nodded somberly. Derek still felt an inch under his skin though, an energy coursing through his veins telling him to run. To get to Stiles now before anything could happen to him.

“Dusk is only half an hour away, my love,” his mother said, “we’re leaving the house in ten minutes. I suggest you prepare yourself in that time.”

“You’re letting me come?” Derek asked in surprise.

His mother smirked, “would I be able to stop you?”

She had a point there.

Ten minutes went by slowly, and Derek stood by the door the entire time. When they finally set out, Derek was the one who set the pace.

He moved fast, running through the trees. They reached the place they had last seen Stiles, and streaked past it, easily picking up the scent of Stiles and the hunters.

They hadn’t tried to hide their scents at all.

To Derek’s complete surprise, it was only ten minutes later that they reached the camp. They hadn’t even set up a boundary, there was nothing stopping the wolves from crashing their camp and pinning all three of them to the ground.

Which is exactly what they did.

His mom, father and uncle took down the three men easily, and Derek ran for the cage. He clawed open the barred entrance easily, and helped Stiles stand up. He had been expecting Stiles to be scared, pushed back into his days of not talking and looking terrified, but he wasn’t like that at all.

Stiles looked pissed.

“Take these cuffs off me,” Stiles said, holding his hands up. Derek obeyed, breaking them off and throwing them aside. Stiles flexed his fingers, then turned to the men.

Their screams were the first sign that Stiles was doing something to them. The blood dripping down their faces was the next. Derek didn’t know what Stiles was doing though.

“Stiles, stop this.” His mother said, releasing her hold on the quaking man. He fell to the floor and curled into himself, blood oozing into the leaves. “We’ll put them in jail, you don’t need to kill them. You don’t need that on you.”

“They deserve it.” Stiles hissed.

“ You don’t deserve this,” his mom said, “you can move on from this still, Stiles. Don’t let them take anything else away from you.”

Stiles face flickered in uncertainty, so Derek took his chance. He grabbed Stiles hand, curling their fingers together. “Stiles, come back to me.”

Stiles face twisted in pain, but he didn't move his hand away from Derek’s. “You don’t know them- they’re monsters.”

“We know how to deal with monsters.” Derek said.

“You don’t know what they’ve done!”

“Yeah, I do.”

Stiles turned to him, his eyes full of tears. “You don’t know-”

“I know . And they’ll pay for it, I promise.”

Stiles blinked, and the tears spilled over. The next second he was falling against Derek, whatever spell he had been casting broken. The three men stopped screaming but they stayed down.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, supporting his weight.

“You know?” Stiles whispered.

Derek hushed him, “I know, it’s okay.”

“Stiles!” Mr. Stilinski came running into the clearing, his human legs only now catching up with them. “Thank Christ.” He came up behind Stiles and wrapped his arms around him.

Derek didn’t protest when Stiles switched to clutching to his dad. He curled his arms around Stiles’ back and rested his head on his shoulder.

--

His dad was passed out in the armchair that the man had dragged into Stiles bedroom. Stiles had tried to insist that he was fine, but his dad paid him no mind as he set himself up with a pillow and a blanket.

And then promptly fell asleep.

Stiles lay awake for a long time, staring up at the ceiling. He was telling his dad the truth, he was fine after everything that happened. The men who had ruined his life were now in Beacon Hills prison, with a very slim chance of ever getting out. Stiles felt safe for the first time in over a year.

That wasn’t what was keeping him up.

It was the thought that Derek now knew what he looked like. What had happened.

How disgusted he must be now.

A pinging sound came from his window a little after midnight, and Stiles sat up in confusion. He crept passed his dad, who was now sprawled out in the chair, and pushed back his blinds.

Derek was standing in his backyard, throwing rocks at his window. Like some teenager in a 80’s movie.

Stiles pointed toward the backdoor before gently putting the blinds back, creeping past his father once more to get to his bedroom door. When he finally made it downstairs Derek was already standing by the back door waiting for him.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asked as he opened the door, beckoning Derek inside.

“You and your dad took off as soon as Melissa gave you the all clear… I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” Derek frowned, his eyes flickering to Stiles chest. Fuck right, his heart beat. “I’m okay with everything that happened, those guys don’t scare me anymore.”

Derek stepped forward, “then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

This time Derek made a very pointed look at Stiles chest.

“Jesus, fine it’s just… you know now. What I look like.”

“I haven’t seen it.”

“No, but you… you know what burn victims look like. You know how disgusting they are.” Stiles curled his arms around himself, taking a step back. He knew he was ugly, Derek knew he was ugly, couldn’t they just… never speak again? That would be great.

“Stiles, you aren’t disgusting. You’re strong, you’re a survivor. Whatever your skin looks like, it doesn’t change anything for me- I love you.”

Stiles heart jumped in his chest, “you what me?”

“I love you,” Derek repeated, his face firm. “I love you no matter what.”

Stiles’s hands started to shake, he curled them even closer to himself. “Derek…”

“I’m serious, Stiles. I love you.”

“I… I think I might be falling in love with you too. You are honestly the best thing that could have happened to me, and you’re the sweetest person I know, but Derek... “ Stiles sighed. “Look, I’ll show you, and then you can decide to leave on your own, okay? No hard feelings.”

Stiles pulled his hands up and slipped off the cotton gloves he was wearing around his dad in his pajamas. Derek looked down at Stiles hideous, molten, skin. His eyes traveled across the disgusting ridges on Stiles hand, and the redish, pink, blood curdling colour that now made up the back of his hand. Derek looked at this all, and then he looked straight at Stiles and asked if he could touch it.

Dumbly, Stiles nodded.

Gently, ever so gently, Derek lifted a hand and wrapped his fingers around Stiles’s wrist. Then he brought Stiles hand up to his face, and kissed it. Stiles barely felt the touch of Derek’s lips on his scarred skin, but it didn’t matter. The gesture brought tears to his eyes anyway.

“Derek-”

Derek turned Stiles hand and pressed another kiss to his palm. And then his knuckles. Then each of his fingers and thumb. He brushed his fingertips across the top and then smiled at Stiles warmly.

“Beautiful.”

With tears streaming down his face, Stiles shook his head. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do. You deserve everything good.”

Stiles let out a laugh, and then launched himself into Derek’s arms. After all those months of avoiding touch, it felt nice to be held. To be loved.

He didn’t believe Derek right now that he was beautiful, or that he deserved nice things, but with Derek, and his dad, and hell, all of Beacon Hills around, Stiles was starting to think that someday he might.