Healing Touches (Stilinski Family Feels)

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To me the hand was Stiles' father that comforts him. This is a sad fic. It's not really Sterek, but it could be pre-sterek. I'm not labeling it as Sterek.

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A heart attack. Out of all the things that could have killed his father, it was a heart attack. Stiles always thought that it was going to be one of those creatures of the night that would have the best chance of killing his father, but he always thought that his father was going to live forever. Some sort of payback for losing his mother so soon. Stiles cries as he runs through the woods, the place feeling oddly soothing to him. He knows that he has to deal with this, plan a funeral, tell people, but he can't do anything at the moment but cry. Stiles takes comfort in the fact that the last thing that he ever said to his father was that he loved him on his way to school. He's glad it wasn't a fight, they had been fighting the past few weeks about something that seems to useless now, and he's relieved that his father knew that he loved him.

Derek is gone, he left with Braeden and Stiles doesn't know how to find him even if he wanted. He wants Derek here, he wants his friends to be here but he mostly just wants to be alone, but he wants his father back. He doesn't want anything from his friends, their condolences or food or flowers with cards with words of pity. He just wants his father back. Melissa told him that it was peaceful, that John wouldn't have felt much, but Stiles doesn't think that he could find comfort in that. A sob rips from his throat, the noise echoing in the rain but still startling Stiles, and he sits down in mud and the rain. It hurts so much, a pain greater than the loss of Allison and Erica rolled into one, and it's odd because he finds himself grieving for the loss of his father and his mother all over again. The rain washes his tears from his face, and he feels himself sinking into the mud but he doesn't care about it since he can't help it and feels numb.

It could be from the cool air or that he's just sitting and crying. Stiles doesn't know how long he's been there when the sun finally goes down, cloaking the woods in darkness, and Stiles shivers once as he looks at the trees. He can't stop the memories from pouring into his mind, most of them are happy and good, and he sniffs as he looks at the moon. It's the only thing that he can see is the moon, it's really the only thing that he's looking at, and he sniffs as he stands up before he falls back down to his knees. He doesn't know if it's from the cold or grief, but he doesn't move. His tears have stop for now, but it doesn't last for long before he wipes at his eyes. "Why? Why?" Stiles mumbles to himself. After all that he has been through in the past three years, meeting and losing so many new people, and it aches his heart. He was always supposed to have his father, his father promised him that all those years ago that he could always have his father, and he starts to cry again.

It's a stupid thought, children were supposed to bury their parents not the other way around, but Stiles still feels an anger in his heart directed towards his father. "You promised." Stiles screeches to himself, his throat sore and his eyes blurry from tears and the rain. "You promised that I would always have you." Stiles screams, directing it towards the trees and skies. He doesn't know what he's yelling at, all he knows that it feels better than just sobbing in silence. Derek pops into his mind, he would know what to say or do to make Stiles feel better. He could empathize with him, tell him that it gets better even if it doesn't, and Stiles wipes his eyes.

Stiles buries his face into his hands, and he doesn't look up until he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. It's such a familiar gesture, his father's hand was always warm and gentle, and he looks around. His father once told him that he would never raise a hand to his son, something about hands are for loving children not hurting them, and his father would put a hand on his shoulder in encouragement or comfort or just because. He looks around, thinking that his father is going to be there, but he's not. The ache returns until Stiles feels another hand on his shoulder, different in a way, and he turns before he cries again before it's a mixture of relief and grief.

It's Derek.

Requested by: narry-ontop

Artist: stiles-and-the-sourwolf

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