bruised//«stiles stilinski»

Part 26

Derek walks with me to go and get my small pot of pills from the medication window. They have to measure it out and see that we've swallowed for obvious reasons. Derek, also for obvious reasons, doesn't have to take any medication.

"Stiles Stilinski." I say as I stand before the nurse, who frowns at a clipboard in her hand. She scowls at me through the small square hole in the wall before pushing a little paper cup forwards to me with a glass of water. I tip the pills to the back of my mouth and take a large gulp of water. I stick out my tongue at the nurse to show her my empty mouth before walking away with Derek.

"What pills were they?" He asks, falling in sync with me as we walk.

"Uh, adderal, anti anxieties, anti depressants." I tell him.

We reach our room and I let Derek go in first before following behind him and collapsing onto my bed.

We sit in silence for a moment.

"How did you get diagnosed with everything? You know, like when?" Derek suddenly pipes up, throwing me a sideways glance full of perplexity and concern.

"How? Uh, well, it was my ADHD first. I was eight. After the doctor diagnosed it, my dad took me out for Chinese. Just the two of us, my mom was at home with Min. And, uh, he told me I was different, but that it was okay to be different. That just because I might struggle with some things doesn't mean I can't do them." I tell Derek, my voice wobbling shakily. Derek allows a very small smile to play on his lips.

"I've never told anyone that, you know. Not even Scott." I say.

"Really?" Derek arches an eyebrow at me.

I nod. "I was diagnosed with anxiety when I was fourteen. Then depression at fifteen." I explain. "Then Min got cancer, my mom died... Things got worse- I tried to... you know...My dad started drinking and, well, hurting me... And that's when it got really bad." I whisper.

I look over to Derek, who looks about as heartbroken as I feel. Our eyes meet for a moment, filled with nothing but a void of sadness between them.

"Earlier, when I told you that I said to the nurses I have PTSD..." Derek begins. Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

"Yeah, well. That wasn't a complete lie. I mean, I'm better now, but... After the fire, losing my family, losing Paige. Well, I had these nightmares. These awful nightmares." He shudders slightly, his eyes filled with terror. "I mean, I'd wake up screaming. Panic attacks. I had a lot of those after my family died, like, every day." Derek tells me.

"When does it stop? The pain?" I ask, holding my breath.

"It doesn't. Ever. To this day, Stiles, it still hurts just as much as it did the day before, and the month before, the year before. It just gets easier to hide, I guess. I still get the occasional panic attack. Sometimes things trigger it. After the fire, I couldn't go near an open flame without having a breakdown or being just terrified for months. Months. The house, God, it was freezing." He chuckles lightly, but it doesn't have any humour.

"You? Panic attacks?" I ask, surprised.

Derek bites his lip and nods slowly. "Just because, to you, I'm brave and put on a straight face doesn't always mean—"

"I know. Trust me, I know. I'd been diagnosed with depression for four months before Scott even guessed I was "kinda down" one day. I guess I was never that great at faking my smile. But, hey, I use sarcasm to cover up the fact that I'm an emotional wreck." I shrug, chuckling slightly.

Derek just looks at me. "It's okay to show emotion, Stiles. This might sound hypocritical coming from me of all people, but it's true. I wish I'd gotten more help after my family died..." He breathes.  "All I got was Kate." He scowls at her name.

"Kate?" I encourage him to continue talking.

"Yeah. She... Well, she'd do stuff to me that I didn't consent to. But... I mean, I couldn't fight her off. I'd say no, I don't want that, but she'd call me "soft" and always made fun of me for not being a "proper guy" because I wasn't "into her" enough." He grimaces as he relives the memory.

"Non consensual? As in...?" Rape?

Derek shrugs. "I guess. If I got angry or upset or tried to push her off she'd make fun of me, call me a wuss. Or she'd pretend to be hurt if I lay a single finger on her and start threatening me." He shudders slightly. "But I... I couldn't tell anyone. I mean, after all 'I'm a guy, I should be able to defend myself" apparently."

"I'm sorry." Is all I answer quietly, frowning. "No one should have to..." I scratch the back of my neck as I trail off. 

"It's okay." Is all Derek replies with.  

"No, it's not. It's really, really not." I furrow my eyebrows at him, looking at him sideways on. 

***

LMfao ok so hey guys I just logged on for the first time since Feb 2016 out of curiosity and I found another chapter of this fic in my drafts that I never published n idk if people still read this (hey if u do lol) but imma just publish it bc it's here even though I haven't posted in like two years yikes sorry guys but omg all the fuckin cute ass comments ily all so much wtf!!!