Blurry » Sterek

Chapter 30

There's an eery silence looming over the three seniors as the sun begins to rise, guiding them out of the woods. Heads hung low, they climb into their separate vehicles and drive home to wash off the nights events and evidence.

Even after everything that's happened, Stiles can't help the sense of relief. He hates what they had to do, how they had to handle everything by themselves, but it's over. The worst of this mess is finally done, and Stiles knows there's an aftermath that'll be almost as exhausting—almost.

"Derek," Stiles speaks softly. The werewolf doesn't move a muscle. He has his fists pressed against the table in front of the window, body completely stiff as he stares out at the sky.

"Hey," Stiles gently places a hand on the teens shoulder, and the one look from Derek shows how close the werewolf is to crumbling in on himself, bottom lip trembling and tears past the brim, wanting to spill over. "It's okay to grieve, Der," Stiles tells him, squeezing a little tighter.

"He was a killer," Derek grits out, a single tear managing to break the barrier. It slips down his cheek before Stiles catches it with the pad of his thumb. "But he was still your family."

"He murdered Laura. His niece!"

"I know. I know," Stiles whispers, eyes welling as Derek let's go in front of him, "And you have to process that. But you don't have to do it alone, okay? I'm here for you." Derek nods, already sobbing by the time his head is nuzzled into Stiles' chest, gripping the fabric of the boys shirt like it's the only thing keeping him on the ground.

It's a long, sleepless morning. By noon, Derek is passed out with his head in Stiles' lap and Stiles is slowly threading his fingers through the werewolf's hair, mind completely blank for the first time in forever.

He knows this might not get any easier for Derek, not for awhile, but he promises himself he'll be here no matter what. Even if Derek tries pushing him away after this.

Stiles falls asleep after an hour of Derek not waking, and he dreams of better times. When Laura would roll her eyes at Stiles picking on Derek, a fond smile on her lips as she called them dorks. And Peter, when he would do something small, but the younger boys idolize him anyway, because they wanted to be as cool as Peter when they grew up. But Derek most of all, when his smile was effortless, when the weight of the world wasn't pressing down on his shoulders. A simpler time. Before the Hale fire, before Scott was bit, before the supernatural was his new reality, before they were covering up murder their senior year of high school.

In the coming weeks, it's easier to focus on Derek's recovery and Scott's training than himself. Stiles hates going home to his dad, all he can think of is Peter's mangled and burnt body being covered in dirt. He may be a victim, but that doesn't make him not guilty of murder. The three haven't breathed a word of that night, not even to each other. Stiles lies to a Allison, Jackson, and Lydia, saying the police arrested the guy, but they're not allowed to talk about what happened.

Progress is slow, but by the next full moon it seems Derek, Stiles, and Scott can breath a little easier. In full control, Scott is chained to a pillar in the loft, his first successful full moon. Stiles joins Derek out on the balcony, gauging the alphas mood. He knows if there's any day Derek would spiral, a night where everything he feels is heightened would be it.

Tonight is not guilt or grief dominating Derek's mind, it's love and lust. He's been surpressing all feelings for Stiles since the moment he returned to Beacon Hills. Cautiously, he's been letting these emotions back in, and this month his resolve completely slipped. Now he's not just fighting himself, but his wolf too. Every inch of Derek's body is tingling to touch Stiles.

"Are you doing okay?" Stiles asks, at a complete loss when it comes to knowing where Derek's head is at. "Yeah, I am," Derek looks away from the moon with a smile, it feels amazing to say he's okay and actually mean it. "Good," Stiles sighs, moving next to Derek.

There's a comfortable beat of silence while Stiles glances back at his best friend through the window. "You know, I think you really got through to Scott. It looks like—" Stiles' word's get caught in his throat when Derek lays a hand over his. His mind blanks as he stares at their hands, forcing his gaze to the werewolf's face. Derek wears a shy, unsure smile, he just couldn't resist the urge any longer.

"Derek—"

"We should talk," Derek interrupts, "Tomorrow."