I'm (Not) Giving Up On You

Somebody Else

Derek glared down at the drink in his hand. But it wasn't necessarily a glare. His face just looked like that sometimes. It was the eyebrows, really.

"Wow," said a voice from behind him, "You are looking particularly grumpy today. Did something happen?"

Derek turned to see who was addressing him, but he already knew who it was. A man of about 24 years stood behind him. He smiled and his teeth were as straight as a military cemetery. His eyes were sparkling in the dimly lit bar. The murmurs of others around them didn't cut through the timbre of his voice.

"Hey Parrish," Derek said with a nod.

"Hale," Parrish replied with a nod of his own. He slid his brown aviator jacket off to reveal the fitted navy blue shirt underneath. The jacket draped over the back of the chair and Parrish slid in to the seat. A drink was placed in front of him and he smiled brightly at the bartender. The man gave him a wink and wondered off to the call of another patron.

Parrish took a sip of his Sidecar made with Cognac and not Brandy. He sighed as the liquid slid down his throat and he felt a slow warming in his chest.

"So why the long face? Your eyebrow game is fairly strong tonight," his eyes widened in realization, "Did you get the results of the written test back?"

Derek shrugged, "Yeah they were fine. I passed and they want me to go to the physical examinations next month."

"Hey!" Parrish clapped his hand on Derek's shoulder and shook him slightly, "That's fantastic! I'm sure you'll do just fine with that body of yours. But then I'm confused as to why you are glum."

"I think," Derek paused and wrapped his fingers around his glass, "I'm pretty sure I got dumped."

Parrish's eyebrows rose dramatically, "Shit. How did that happen? From what you've told me you and your beau were thick as thieves."

"He found out I was meeting with you and thought I was cheating on him."

"So you explained our meetings to him and he got angry?"

"Not exactly," Derek said slowly.

"What did you tell him?"

Derek pushed his glass around the counter with one hand.

Parrish looked expectantly at him, "You did explain to him, didn't you?"

Derek shook his head with a heavy sigh, "No I couldn't."

"What? So while your boyfriend was asking if you were unfaithful you just stood there combing your eyebrows?"

"No," he let out a frustrated breath, "I couldn't tell him about you because I can't tell him about joining the academy."

"Why not? You think he wouldn't approve?"

"It's not that," Derek frowned, "It's just I really want to do this on my own."

"Oh," Parrish nodded, "As in you don't want to get in to the force because you're dating the Sheriff's son."

Derek nodded ever so slightly. He downed the rest of his drink, a little upset that his enhanced metabolism wouldn't allow him to become drunk.

"Hey, Derek," Parrish said after a moment, "Why did you want to join the police force in the first place?"

"I believe that I can bring something special to the force—a different set of skills. I want to protect the people who are important to me. I'm done with losing people because of my helplessness."

"I think Stiles would appreciate that answer. Don't you think you've slighted him by not telling him? I can't even imagine thinking my lover was cheating on me and then her not clearing things up with me. It would tear me apart."

Derek looked down at his hands, "I would never hurt Stiles," His chest clenched painfully at the thought of it.

He let his hand wander down to rest on his right thigh. There in his jeans pocket was the discarded necklace. After Stiles had left Derek had been at a loss for what to do. He had just stood there, dumbfounded before walking over to the ornament and picking it up. The talisman was cold by that time, all of Stiles' residual heat having been lost to the air.

Derek slid his hand in to his pocket and pulled the necklace out. He looked at it under the lights of the bar. There were a few scratches on the talisman and the leather cord had been worn away with age. He should replace the cord if he wanted it to last. The necklace had been one of the only things that had survived the fire. It had been tucked away in a chest in his mother's closet.

It was tradition that when a Hale werewolf turned 18 they were given a symbol of their membership to the pack—a sort of physical reminder of their responsibility to the family. Derek's 18th birthday hadn't been too far away when the fire happened. He knew that the blue talisman in the curved shape similar to a wolf's fang was going to be his.

Derek still remembered the black pendant of the same fashion that his father always wore. It was also tradition that the symbol be given to the chosen mate. It was a sort of way to show claim to others. In the older days it had been exactly that—a warning to others not to touch the mate. But nowadays it was a tradition that held in a less extreme fashion. When Stiles had discovered it and wanted to wear it, Derek couldn't have said no. Stiles wearing the necklace just felt right to Derek.

"Shit," Derek hissed. He dropped his head in to his hands.

Parrish was startled slightly, looking over the rim of his drink, "What?"

"Did you know that wolves mate for life?" Derek asked, his eyebrows knitting together slightly. He felt a strange emotion welling up and choking him. It was an overbearing feeling of grief and anxiety—something he hadn't felt for a very long time.

"Sorry," Parrish said, "I'm not following this train of thought."

"I don't want to love somebody else," Derek realized.

"Those are some heavy words, Derek."

"I know," Derek shook his head, "I know."

"You should go talk to him."

Derek looked up at Parrish, "What if he doesn't take me back? He doesn't just change his mind like that. There's no way we could just start again."

"You're talking crazy right now—"

"Can a person actually die from loneliness? I don't care—it doesn't matter."

Parrish gave Derek a sympathetic half smile, "So Stiles is the one?"

For a moment, Derek couldn't speak. His mouth opened and closed as if he was trying to find the words.

In all honesty, the stars must have aligned for Derek to even find someone like Stiles. They never had to say outrightly what they were feeling. The two were always just so in sync with the other. It was a perfect combination—a rare one at that.

Derek didn't answer Parrish. He squeezed the talisman in his palm tightly. The weight of it anchored him and cleared his thoughts.

"I need to see him—I have to explain everything," Derek said after a minute.

Parrish nodded, raising his drink to Derek, "I wish you all the luck, Hale."

Derek also nodded and rose from his chair. He swiftly pulled his coat on and made his way out of the bar. Parrish watched him the whole way. He sighed and shook his head.

"Lord knows you're going to need all of the luck you can get for this one."

With that he downed the rest of his Sidecar.