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Stupid fucking notebook

Derek was standing behind his desk, both hands leaning on the top, when Stiles walked in.

"Close the door."

Stiles did as he was told, silently.

When Derek heard the soft click of his door, he looked up.

Stiles' anger melted into confusion and panic as he noticed the tears in Derek's eyes.

"Is it true?"

Stiles frowned. "Is what true?"

Derek dropped his head. "Dahlia is looking for a replacement."

There was a pause.

Stiles squinted. Dahlia, why did that sound familiar?

Derek looked up as realization flashed across Stiles' face.

"Oh." Stiles' shoulders stiffened, his eyes wide with panic. He was such an idiot. How had he not seen this coming sooner? He ran a hand through his hair.

Derek's stomach knotted. He had hoped it wasn't true. Had hoped it had been one of Elijah's games. But Stefan seemed to know, and now the admittance from Stiles...

"Derek." Stiles took a step forward.

"Don't," Derek snapped, holding a hand up. "Did you just forget to mention it? Surely you wrote it in that stupid fucking notebook of yours."

"I— I didn't— I'm not—" Stiles stumbled over his words, his hands flailing in a desperate attempt to explain himself. His brain was trying to process what Derek was saying.

"Was any of it real?" Derek cut in, his tone quieter and more desperate. Like he was afraid to know the answer.

"What?" Stiles blinked, going still.

"I know at first it wasn't, but...this weekend..." Derek's voice was desperate. Like he was pleading for the answer he wanted.

Stiles stepped forward several paces. "Derek, what are you talking about?"

"Why did you agree to date me?"

Stiles frowned. He couldn't track where this conversation was going. What was Derek asking him exactly?

"Not in the beginning, I know why in the beginning, I mean...for real." Derek's tone was still quiet.

"Derek, I don't understand what this is about..."

"This is about you lying to me. About you being an even bigger manipulator than Elijah. This is about that stupid fucking notebook," Derek barked, gesturing to the pocket he knew Stiles kept the notebook in. His hand shook with anger.

"What?" Stiles blinked. He was so caught off guard, he didn't even know how to respond. What was Derek even talking about?

"I'm just a job to you. I always have been." Derek fought to keep the tears at bay. He was so angry and so hurt, the two emotions kept taking over. Just when he thought the anger had won out, the hurt would surface again, and vice versa.

Stiles scrubbed a hand down his face and took a step forward. "Okay, there's a lot to unpack here, but for starters, I've never lied to you. And I've never manipulated you. So whatever Elijah said when he had you pressed up against my desk..." he paused, trying to keep the anger out of his tone. This was Elijah's doing, not Derek's.

 "He wanted this." Stiles continued, his tone was low and sharp.

"That wasn't what it looked like," Derek said quietly. He couldn't blame Stiles for being upset about that. He would have been too.