Stiles was lying on his bedroom floor with pain burning into his skin. His chest was on fire; a deep burning that made him curl up on his side. There were hands on him and he shoved them off. He opened his eyes to Derek and his dad hovering over him. Scott and Lydia were by the foot of his bed. There was movement behind him and he turned his head.
Deaton was kneeling on the rug, holding a metal rod in his hand.
Stiles cried out in fear and launched himself away, across the floor. He backed up against the window near his bed. He hunched up and tried to put his arms around his chest where the burning ached and throbbed. He couldn't touch it, it hurt too much, so his hands hovered over the pain.
"Stiles, God, Stiles. Are you okay?" his dad asked in a choked voice.
"What's he doing here?!" Stiles hissed out, shooting a hateful glance at Deaton as he placed the rod on the floor and put his hands on his knees.
Stiles' dad answered quickly, "He pulled you out of whatever that was, Stiles! Derek found you. We thought you were going to have a heart attack. Deaton was the only one who had any idea what to do!"
"Only one?" Stiles glanced down at his chest and gaped at the red oozing welt of burnt skin slashed across it. Seeing it made the pain a hundred times worse. He went cold all over his body, except where the burn was. That was liquid agony. He didn't know whether he was going to pass out or throw up. Possibly both, and in that order.
"We had no idea what to do," Scott spoke up.
"So you called that bastard?!" Stiles spat out, focusing on what was happening in the room, not on his chest.
"Stiles! He helped you!" his dad reprimanded him.
"He burnt me!" Stiles yelled. "Get the fuck out of my room! All of you!"
"Stiles, someone needs to check your burn, your vitals," Deaton said.
Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, furious. "You. Don't. Talk. To. Me." He sat forward, curling his lip in distaste.
A sensation swept over him as it had in the study yesterday, and suddenly the room was so much clearer to him than it had been before. The pain in his chest muted and the relief from it gave him a boost of energy.
"Stiles," whispered Lydia and his dad at the same time.
He flicked a glance their way, and they reeled back like he'd struck them.
Scott's eyes bled red and he straightened up, like Stiles poised a threat.
Stiles sneered at him, and turned back to Deaton. "You burned me." He crouched up onto his hands and toes. Deaton actually went a little pale as he carefully tracked Stiles' movements.
Derek's eyes were changing between his human green and wolf blue, flickering back and forth. He had his palms out, facing Stiles, showing he was not a threat.
"You were in trouble, the iron rod brought you back to consciousness." Deaton edged back a little.
Stiles saw red. "You put iron on me?!" He yelled furiously, and launched himself at Deaton.
He was caught easily by Derek, who shouted at everyone to get out of the room. Stiles fought against him, but for all his posturing, he really had no strength so he was quickly tiring.
"Scott, pull the shades!" Derek cried out.
Scott moved to the window and the room was plunged into semi-dark. He glanced at Stiles.
"You need to leave, Scott!" Derek urged him as Stiles used his fingers to try to open Derek's grasp. It might be a hopeless task but he wasn't giving up.
Scott wavered once more, and Stiles glared up at him. He stepped back and screwed his face up. "Bro," he whispered, upset.
"Get out, Scott!" Derek yelled at him, and flung his arm over Stiles when he started to slip under Derek's hold onto the floor. Stiles was an eel, slippery and quick, even if he was weak and tired. The burn mark was screaming pain again, but nowhere near what it had been before. This he could deal with, even if it was hindering his escape.
Scott fled and shut the door behind him.
The resulting darkness was soothing, and when Stiles' last bit of energy trickled out, he finally stopped struggling in Derek's hold. He was on his back, up against Derek who held him by wrapping an arm around his lower torso, pining his arms at the elbows. Derek also had a leg around Stiles' thighs. For all his strength, he was holding him gently.
Stiles dropped his head back onto Derek's shoulder and rolled it until it rested against his neck. He could hear Derek making soothing noises and closed his eyes. He didn't have any energy left to hold himself up and he slumped back into Derek, who took his weight like it was nothing. Which, sadly, was true.
They sat like that for a long while, Derek eventually unwrapping his leg from across Stiles. His arm stayed around Stiles' waist, below the burn, a long line of welcome solid comfort that worked against the burn's constant ache.
Stiles put his own arm across Derek's so he wouldn't move any time soon, then he dozed on and off, the pain from the burn making him drowsy, and the feeling that came from being so close to Derek acting like a numbing agent.
"You okay?" Derek asked softly, some time later.
After a significant pause, Stiles simply replied, "No."
"Can I help?" Derek turned his head, his lips moving against Stiles' hairline.
Such a simple question, but it let Stiles know he was the one who would choose what happened next. Stiles loved him a little more for it.
If he was stronger, he'd push Derek away. The talk with the fae had highlighted how very wrong he was as a person. How very screwed up and bad he was. He had the influence of the Nogitsune inside him, as part of him. He was marked by a magical tree that was possibly slightly evil. He was also changing into a fae, whatever that meant. He'd always been a bad person. His mother had seen it. The Nogitsune had seen it. The fae saw it. Even the man who'd kidnapped him had seen it. Every thing about him was bad.
He loved Derek, and if he was a better person he'd tell him to go away. But Stiles wasn't a good person. He wasn't strong. He wanted Derek, and so he said, "Yes. Please."
Derek sighed in relief.
***
Stiles had known for a while that it was possible he could get angry enough to kill someone.
He'd done some deep introspection after Donovan. That time had been panic-induced self-defense, but Stiles figured he had some major darkness inside him that, when coupled with his temper and the right situation, could possibly lead him to going too far. This knowledge was like a stone which Stiles tried to bury. If he buried it deep enough, he'd never face it. Being capable of something didn't mean he wanted to do it.
While he rested, he told Derek to make sure Deaton didn't come near him. He didn't want to explain why it was important, even though it would make his dad and the pack wonder what was going on. The fact that Deaton had used iron on him made Stiles hate him on a very personal level.
Derek had told him how scared they'd all been when he'd found Stiles lying on the floor with his eyes open, covered in a sheen of sweat. He'd been burning up and his heart was beating way too fast to be safe. Derek had tried to wake him but couldn't. His dad had wanted to call an ambulance, but Lydia had calmed everyone down slightly by figuring out he wasn't responding because his spirit was astral projecting.
Scott had called Deaton, and the druid had arrived with different items to help bring Stiles back. Apparently there was a risk that the longer Stiles' soul stayed away, the harder it would be to get him back into his body.
Deaton had tried a few things; burning herbs, laying crystals on the carpet around Stiles, but nothing worked. That's when he'd brought out the iron rod. Derek hadn't wanted Deaton to use it. Unfortunately, he'd been outvoted and because the Sheriff was getting antsy, Derek had conceded.
As soon as Deaton had placed the iron against Stiles' skin it had burned him, and he'd screamed and woken up.
Eventually remembering he'd wanted a shower, Stiles had crawled out of Derek's grasp, retrieved his cane and gathered some clothes. He'd then walked slowly down the hall to the bathroom.
At the moment, he was sitting on the floor of the shower, washing himself gently. Standing on slippery surfaces wasn't a good idea. He was fine sitting though, he just had to pull and angle the shower nozzle to where he'd need it and turn it on before he got in.
He rubbed his hands through his hair and looked down at the burn mark. It had stopped feeling like it was trying to worm its way into his chest cavity as soon as he'd gotten water on it. It was still nasty; a red welt of raised hot flesh which throbbed with every beat of his heart, but it could have been a lot worse than it was.
The burn stood out starkly against his chest. Stiles pressed a finger into one of the faded bruises which surrounded it. His bruises were healing exceptionally fast and were almost completely gone. His fingernails were growing quickly too. His hands were relatively normal looking now.
"The wind, the rain, the sunlight, the earth." he mumbled, pondering how he healed. The water from his shower had done a remarkable job. If iron poisoned fae, could the elements heal them? Had the sunlight been fixing him? Sometimes in the hospital, he'd removed his bedsheets so he could lay in the light because it felt nice. What if his body had been telling him what he needed to get better?
Stiles leant back against the wall.
If water would help his healing, he was all for staying in the shower longer than normal. It also had the benefit of delaying the inevitable showdown with his dad and the others because there was no way they were going to ignore what had happened, and he was pissed at them for allowing him to get burned.
The longer he thought about his burn, the more angry he became. Deaton better stay far away from him or Stiles wasn't sure he'd be able to contain himself.
***
Stiles entered the living room and found everyone, except Deaton, waiting for him. He crossed his legs under him on the couch, acutely aware that his dad, Lydia and Scott were particularly perplexed. He was used to that, but the wariness he was also picking up on was something only the possession had given him experience of. Derek was the only one who was fine with him. He was sitting near Stiles, turned towards him with his arm along the couch, his hand near Stiles' head. He passed Stiles a mug of hot tea.
Stiles took the drink, smiled in thanks at Derek, and frowned at everyone else. "Does someone want to explain why you're all acting like I committed a crime?"
"You honestly don't know?" Scott asked.
"Would I be asking if I did?"
"Possibly," Scott answered.
Derek's fingers started to rub the hairs on the back of Stiles' head. Other than that, Derek didn't move. Stiles took a breath. There was something in the act that screamed secrecy and intimacy that all of Derek's public touching did not. It stirred something in him. Derek's wolf mojo was at work again as the now-familiar warmth travelled from his fingers into Stiles' scalp and down his back to furl at the base of his spine. If he could spend the rest of his life being touched by Derek like this, he'd give up a hell of a lot to be able to have it.
He zoned out a little, focusing on Derek's fingers while he sipped his tea.
"You doing okay, Stiles?" asked his dad. It sounded like a pretty loaded question and Stiles didn't think he was asking about the burn.
"Yeah?" Stiles answered.
Lydia took a few tentative steps towards him. "Heightened emotions are part of PTSD. It's also a part of iron poisoning. Plus, with you being Fae, it's pretty obvious you're dealing with some big changes, like what we just saw. They can take time to get used to."
"Okay?" Stiles was getting seriously confused. Lydia sounded like she was trying to explain his behavior. It was very simple, he was angry at being branded by an iron rod.
"What happened, son? Before Deaton came?" his dad pressed.
Stiles bit his bottom lip, not sure what to tell them. "I was meditating." That sounded less intense than astral projecting.
"You didn't tell us it was a risk to your health."
Stiles tried not to glare at his dad, already getting defensive.
"I'd prefer you didn't do them anymore," his dad continued.
"That's not up to you." Stiles couldn't explain that by speaking to the Fae he was learning what was going on with him. He needed to keep going, there was so much he still didn't understand.
Derek interrupted the stand-off Stiles and his dad had going. "What if I'm with Stiles when he does them?"
"I don't need a babysitter!" Stiles fumed.
"How will you bring him out of it?" Lydia asked, completely ignoring him.
"I can bring him out without hurting him," Derek replied. "He'll hear me."
Stiles was exasperated. "Is anyone going to listen to my view on this?"
"No," his dad said, flatly. Then, before Stiles could argue the point, he asked Derek, "If you're so sure he'll hear you, why didn't it work this time?"
Stiles had a pretty good idea why it hadn't. He hadn't wanted to leave the preserve, or the Fae. But seeing as no one was listening to him anyway, he wasn't going to offer any information. Screw them.
"It's so dangerous," his dad said, when Derek couldn't offer a plausible reason.
"Nothing was wrong!" Stiles managed to get in. "Lydia told you I was just somewhere else."
His dad flung out his hands. "Where, back at the Nemeton? And what, your soul just goes for walks now without your body?!"
Stiles pressed his lips shut and narrowed his eyes. There was a strange feeling inside him, and the room gained a visual clarity like it had when he'd tried to attack Deaton. Everything was crisper, sharper, more defined. He had all the time in the world to focus on every detail and yet he was only interested in his dad, who had to understand he needed to step back and let Stiles do what was required.
His dad shuffled away from Stiles, edging back into his chair. That made Stiles pause. What was going on that everyone acted like he scared them? Didn't they know he wasn't going to hurt them?
"Stiles?" Lydia asked, somewhat apprehensively.
Stiles looked at her and the strange sensation inside him melted away and the room lost its defined edge.
"What about your kidnapping? Has anyone talked to you about that?"
Stiles stilled, then with reluctance, shook his head. "Not since I've been home."
"Scott told us the reason you were taken was because of this," Lydia waved her hand to incorporate all of him. "Is that true?"
Stiles turned his head away. "I can't." He hoped they'd take that to mean he couldn't talk to them because it was Fae related. Not because of his reluctance to speak about anything to do with the abduction.
"So Scott was right. And a true Fae characteristic right there, I suppose," Lydia mused, tapping her fingernail against her bottom lip.
Everyone waited for her to explain.
She sighed. "I looked up things about Fae, of course. Stiles displays the classic signs. Secretive, easy to anger, won't give out personal information if he can help it, that kind of thing." She shrugged. "Although, he was already kind of like that before. It was possibly one of the reasons he was chosen." Lydia smiled thinly. "It's suggested that Fae tend to take those who display traits that they like. A lot of children get taken because they're playful and full of curiosity. Am I right, Stiles?"
"Maybe." Stiles was feeling uncomfortable. Lydia's synopsis was jarringly correct. He shifted uneasily.
Derek rubbed his hand against the back of his neck and Stiles suddenly twigged as to what was going on. Derek deliberately used his touch to keep him calm, knowing exactly what it did to him. Stiles stiffened. Honestly, he was stupid for not having worked it out sooner.
He took a sip of his tea and grimaced because it had cooled somewhat, but drank it down anyway in a couple of gulps.
"It's time for a late lunch. Picnic out the back?" Lydia suggested suddenly.
Stiles watched his dad stand up and leave the living room. His heart sank. He was in for a rough time trying to fix what was going on between them.
"Stiles?"
"Um. Sure? I guess?" He hadn't spent any time outside since he'd come home. Not including the car ride from the hospital. Actually, he hadn't since he was taken. That was about three months ago. Wow. Suddenly he needed to be outside almost desperately. "Yes, picnic, I can totally get behind that."
Scott helped him stand and handed him his cane. "Good thing we bought a heap load of stuff just for that, then!"
Lydia asked Derek to help him get the picnic ready, leaving Scott in the living room with Stiles.
Stiles grabbed Scott's arm. "Dude, I'm sorry for being so different, angry and —"
"Jerkish?"
Stiles deserved that. "Yeah." He bit his bottom lip. "It may help if," he paused.
"What? Tell me. I'll do it."
Scott was so earnest in his offer, even after everything, that Stiles just leaned in and hugged him. He tensed up for a second before he hugged back.
Stiles kept his arms around Scott and spoke into his shoulder, "Can you please just keep being my best bro? I mean, I know it's not easy right now, but I really do need you and I don't want you to think that we're not okay, 'cause we are, but I need a friend."
Scott interrupted him by squeezing him even tighter in their hug and saying, "Stiles, I'm not ever going to stop being your best friend. I've already made that mistake once. It's you and me forever, alright? Just as it's always been. I get that you're going through some really tough things right now. Just, however you need me to help you, let me know."
Stiles relaxed at hearing Scott's words. "Thank you," he told him.
"No worries, man."
***
Lydia, with Derek and Scott's help, had set up a masterful picnic area.
Stiles stood on the back porch, watching Lydia direct her two servants until she was satisfied. He admired her leaderships skills. She had Scott pulling out blankets and pillows, arranging them under the minimal shade of the big old sycamore tree that grew in the backyard. As more and more pillows miraculously showed up, Stiles started to guess, and then was positive, that most of them weren't from his house. They didn't have huge Italian pillows with sheer coverings.
The blankets were his though. So many blankets. The Stilinski's were a blanket family. Stiles himself had a variety just in his bedroom alone. The hall closet was full of them. It was something his mom had instilled in him, and even now he'd buy a new one if he liked it.
Scott used to tease him about it, and Stiles felt a smug satisfaction when Scott came out of the house carrying an armful. "Shut up, Stiles," he complained good-naturedly at him.
Stiles laughed, "I'd help, but you know, being the cripple and all."
Derek frowned over at Stiles from where he was throwing out the edges of a blanket while Lydia directed.
Stiles pointed at Scott. "His words."
Derek switched his glare to Scott.
"Hey! You said them!" Scott huffed, and dropped his load at Derek's feet.
"I said I wasn't one! You said I was, by the very definition of it!"
Stiles smiled in satisfaction when Scott held up his hands in defense as Derek's glare grew more pronounced.
"By the very definition, you know you are, Stiles," Lydia stopped the argument short. She dared Derek to glare at her, one eyebrow raised and her mouth in a thin line.
Derek dropped his eyes back to the blanket, and Stiles sniggered. When Lydia switched her attention onto him, he cursed under his breath. Scott laughed and even Derek looked suitably amused.
"You can ask your dad if he's joining us, Stiles. Unless your poor cripple body isn't up to it?"
Stiles' mouth dropped open. He scratched the back of his neck. And turned to the back door. "You both suck. Just so you know," he said softly, aware Derek and Scott would hear him.
Scott's laughter got louder.
Stiles found his dad in the kitchen. He'd been helping by putting the food Scott and Lydia had bought over onto platters.
Stiles did a double-take at the huge pile of food on the table and then at his dad.
His dad shrugged. "Lydia."
"I didn't even know we had platters." Stiles picked up a bite sized sandwich, "What's this? Food for mice?"
"We don't have platters. Those came with Lydia. And I don't know. Lydia said she got the food from some new cafe that caters."
"Lydia brought catering food to a picnic I didn't know we were having? And who else is coming? A whole gridiron team?" He wasn't kidding; the table was practically groaning under the weight of tiny sandwiches, sliced meat rolls, pasta salads, and things Stiles had no name for.
"Pretty close, actually," Scott spoke up behind him, and Stiles yelped. Scott snickered, his amusement growing when Stiles glared at him. "Lydia's got everyone coming. The whole pack."
"Cool," Stiles nodded. They hadn't all been together since before he was taken. "Dad, Lydia wants to know if you're going to be joining us," he asked.
"Nah. I'm going down to the station. There's some things I want to go over." His dad had his back towards Stiles and didn't turn around.
Stiles dropped his head a little, and Scott put his hand on his shoulder in commiseration. "Oh. Okay."
"I'm going now, actually. See you guys later." His dad waved absently and walked out.
Scott and Stiles stayed in the kitchen, listening to him grab his keys and go out the front door. When it shut, Stiles deflated a bit more. Scott squeezed his shoulder with the hand he hadn't moved away.
"He's having a rough time of it," Scott said.
"I know. I messed up. I'm a bad son." Stiles wasn't even joking.
"Nah, man. Just talk it out. You guys are close. This is just hard on you both."
Stiles had to pause for a second, take that in. "Since when did you get good at giving advice?"
"I've been working on my relationship skills since mom told me females like words. She was talking about something specific, but it applies here. Everyone needs to talk to each other more. The things that aren't said can cause more harm than those that are."
Stiles took a long hard look at his friend. "Taylor Swift?" he eventually guessed.
Scott shook his head. "Mother Teresa. But I'm paraphrasing."
"Huh."
***
Stiles was worried about going outside and stepping into the sunlight now there was a chance his spirit might take a leave of absence from his body without him meaning to.
He was standing on the edge of the back porch, trying to walk over to the picnic area before everyone else arrived and there were more witnesses.
Lydia and Scott were carrying a long plastic outdoor table from the side of the house which Stiles didn't even remember being there. He could hear Lydia telling Scott to find a hose because it needed to be cleaned.
The Stilinski yard backed onto a fire break that changed into a wood which eventually joined the preserve. Between the break and the house there were a line of trees on three sides of the yard. There were neighbors on either side and one slightly behind near the firebreak, but the trees in Stiles' yard hid them all from view. He'd always liked the fact he felt like he was in the forest without having to take more than a few steps from his house.
Lydia had chosen the huge old sycamore tree for their picnic area. Being deciduous it was hardly more than wide branches right now, allowing the sun to shine through while still giving shade. It never failed to make Stiles think of his mom as she'd loved lying under it.
Derek came up and touched his elbow. "Want to try with a little help?"
"How do you do that?" Stiles asked.
"What?" Derek frowned.
"Know exactly what to say to me? Or even that I need help?"
Derek didn't answer right away. He seemed to be considering something before he offered, "It's like I said. I'm taking the time to get to know you better."
Stiles turned back to face the yard. "Well in case you required an update, you're doing really well. You're getting top scores in attentiveness and caring for the sick and injured. And you get a huge gold star for the ability to calm me down with just a touch." Stiles slid his eyes over and watched Derek from under his lashes.
Derek blanched a tiny bit. "It seems to work for you, that's all. There's even a therapy on it. Do you want me to stop?"
"God, no. I mean, I considered it." Stiles was still side-eying him and watched Derek's frown deepen. "But then, I need something that calms me down when I'm being an ass or just having a plain old panic attack. Plus, I'd be an idiot to give up on it. Seriously, you could make money from how good it feels. You have super wolfy powers, dude."
"That's not a thing, Stiles. It's just tactile comforting."
Stiles cringed internally hearing Derek say that. Of course that's all it was to him. He waved a hand dismissively, "So say you and Scott, but I've felt it. It's more than that and it is awesome."
Derek blew out an exasperated breath, "I'm telling you that I don't have the power to make you feel good through touch, Stiles."
Stiles snorted loudly. "Derek, do you really want to admit to that? If true, you need to practice on yourself more. Self love, dude, it's the only way to know how you like it. Makes you a better lover, so it's the gift that keeps on giving."
Scott called Stiles over for help with the hose as it wouldn't roll back into the reel house.
Stiles clasped his hand on Derek's shoulder and grinned at Derek being lost for words. "Let me know how you go with that. I can give you pointers if you need it." He walked away, sinking his cane in the grass for stability. He felt the sun on his skin and smiled. He was out in full sunlight and hadn't taken a dive into astral projection. Well, good for him.
***
For a late lunch picnic set up in a relatively short period of time, Stiles had to hand it to Lydia. She was the planning queen. The picnic table was overflowing with catered food and drink. There were blankets and pillows under the sycamore. There was music too, curtesy of Lydia's phone and a set of portable speakers.
Stiles was sitting back against the sycamore's truck, surrounded by an impressive amount of pillows, wrapped in a blanket. He didn't need the blanket, he wasn't feeling cold and the afternoon sun was shining through the tree branches, but he'd been outnumbered and wrapped up before he could argue. It was a thing everyone wanted to do to him now. Both the ignoring of his wishes and the coddling.
Liam had arrived with Mason and Hayden, as Lydia had been putting the last platters on the table. It had taken Stiles a moment to remember Hayden was leaving in a week. He'd completely forgotten. He hadn't really spoken to Hayden for a long time, so he beckoned her over.
She extracted herself from Liam's grasp and came over to sit by him.
"Hey, Hayden."
"Hey, Stiles, you're looking better." She gave him a once over and held out a bottle of water to him.
"Hmm, not so much 'Night of the Living Dead' anymore," Stiles smiled, and took the water from her. "Thanks."
Hayden grinned. "You know, Liam told me about Mason's comment in the hospital. He was furious about it." She tilted her head in Liam's direction, checking he wasn't listening in. "Liam looks up to you. You're someone he wants to be like."
Stiles was a bit surprised that Hayden was telling him this. "Liam wants to be like me? You're kidding?" He shook his head. A role model? No way. Liam was delusional.
"Do you blame him? You're one of the cool guys, Stiles." He scoffed at that, and Hayden nodded quickly, "You are."
"Where were you and Liam when I was a junior? Could have used a fan-club back then." He really didn't believe her.
"Well you've got one now." Hayden pushed her fingers through the grass. "You helped Liam, you know? You taught him stuff, backed him up when he needed it. You even spoke up for him when Scott didn't agree he was ready to do a full moon on his own."
"Scott wasn't all that worried. He just needed someone to tell him what he already knew."
"And that someone was you. You mean a lot to Liam. I'm really glad he has Mason and Scott and you. He's been through a lot and you know how to deal with it."
Stiles was at a loss. He'd never thought about how it must be for Liam. It was also nice to hear he was looked up to, crazy though the idea was. He gestured. "You two are really close, huh? I mean, obviously, but you share a lot."
"Yeah. It's important." Hayden smiled softly, then her lips pulled down. "Did you know I hated Liam for the longest time over something pretty stupid?"
"I know a bit about it."
"Well, all the stuff with the Dread Doctors and wham! I was totally in love with him," Hayden smiled.
"Did you ever," Stiles trailed off. He was watching Derek grab two plates and start to go over the food choices. Stiles smiled and held back a chuckle at the disgust Derek had when he spied the little sandwiches.
"What, Stiles?" Hayden followed his gaze.
"I'm not saying it is, but, did you ever think you felt that way only because of the stuff you went through? Being bitten?"
Hayden nodded like she got what he was trying to say. "Well, I guess it's part of it. When we got closer, it all worked out." Hayden tipped her head over at Derek who was now talking to Lydia by the food table. "You worried about something?"
Stiles sucked in a breath.
Hayden poked him in the knee through his blanket. "I only know certain things because Scott told Kira and she told Malia and Malia has a big mouth. Don't freak out."
Stiles silently agreed that Malia did in fact have a big mouth. And so did Scott. And Kira.
"I haven't told anyone," Hayden added.
Derek wondered over with his plates filled with food. He sat down near Stiles on the other side to Hayden, and handed a plate to him which Stiles took with surprise.
Hayden rolled her eyes then stood up to get her own food.
Stiles looked down at his plate. "Thanks, Derek. Um, what is that?" Most of the things on his plate he could recognize. Fruit, vegetable pasta, a couple of lettuce leaves rolled up over some kind of rice filling. But Stiles had pointed to a green dip-like thing. It looked like phlegm and he had no desire to touch it, let alone eat it.
Derek sighed, "I know, it looks disgusting. Lydia said it had a mix of milk and other things which are good for you. She made me put it on your plate."
Stiles made a noise of disgust. "I appreciate you getting me food, but I'm not eating it." He unwrapped a lettuce leaf roll and placed the leaf over the dip.
Scott and the others had grabbed their own plates and had been dropping down to sit on the blankets and relax against the pillows.
Lydia sat down across from Stiles and pointed a fork at him over her own plate. "You are going to eat it. I've been doing research on Hemochromatosis and that bean-mix has non-heme iron in it and calcium from the milk. I had it specially made for you."
"You had someone make me snot dip?" Stiles asked.
Liam and Mason laughed.
"No, I had a bean paste made to go with the vegetable sticks that Derek also put on your plate. The dip will help you with your iron levels."
Stiles wanted to continue arguing with her, but she'd researched to help make him better. And had food made for him. He lifted the lettuce leaf back off the stuff and sighed. "Thanks, Lyds."
Mason spoke up, "That's it?"
Stiles shrugged at him and scooped up a forkful of salad. Scott started snickering, and Kira nudged him in the side with her elbow. Liam gave Mason an expectant grin.
Mason was not happy with Stiles' response. "You're just going to eat it?" At Stiles' nod, Mason groaned, "I thought for sure you'd get out of it!" He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. He then handed a ten dollar bill over to Liam who took it without a word and shoved it in his jeans. He was grinning around a mouthful of food, and Hayden was laughing softly at Mason, shaking her head at him.
Stiles' eyebrows rose. "What's this?"
Lydia threw Mason and Liam an exasperated stare. "They found out about the foods I had prepared for you. Took bets on whether you'd actually eat them. I warned Mason, but he didn't listen."
"Oh. " Stiles smiled pityingly over at Mason. "Too bad for you, you didn't consider the fact I love Lydia too much not to understand when she's being awesome despite me, not to spite me."
Kira and Scott groaned at his word play, but Lydia had brightened considerably at Stiles' words.
He blew her a kiss. Then he stopped. "Wait. Foods? There's more?"
Everyone but Lydia laughed at him. "I put them in your fridge."
Stiles opened his mouth, then shut it.
Lydia smiled. "You're welcome."
***
It was almost the end of the picnic, it hadn't lasted too long. They'd started late and most of them had school tomorrow. Hayden, Liam and Mason had left because they each had a curfew. After a phone call from her mom, Kira had apologized, being somewhat embarrassed, and left too.
Malia and Stiles were snuggling under the blankets. Malia had stolen Scott's phone earlier and the two of them were creating new titles for Scott's music lists. They were giggling quietly because they'd changed the names to things like: "Sucky Boy Bands that only True Alphas Could Love." And "Wolf-Pain Music."
Stiles had just typed in: "Music to Howl to the Moon By", which set him off laughing again, imagining Scott's annoyance when he worked out what they'd done.
There was a cough above them, and lifted their heads from where they were hiding the phone between them.
"Yes? May we help you?" Stiles asked Derek, still giggling a little.
Derek had a smile playing around the corner of his mouth. He squatted down and said quietly, "You may want to finish up." He tilted his head in Scott's direction who was checking his pockets like he was searching for something.
Malia scrunched up her nose in annoyance, which Stiles still thought was adorable, and slid out from under the blanket, taking Scott's phone with her. She ambled over to the food table and, as she asked Lydia if she needed help with the platters, deftly placed Scott's phone down. She then took the trays Lydia pointed out to her and followed her into the house.
"She's a smooth operator," Stiles sang under his breath, and Derek chuckled. Stiles had a sudden thought. "Do you have your phone?" He held out his hand expectantly towards Derek.
"No way." Derek shook his head.
Stiles hurried to explain, "I left mine somewhere. You can watch what I'm doing. I just want to check some dates."
Derek squinted and then sighed when Stiles continued to hold out his hand. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it over to Stiles. He then moved over and lifted up the blanket edge to sit where Malia had been.
Stiles ignored the fact that Derek's side was touching all along his. He did huff a little when Derek leant over. "Trust me much?" Stiles opened up the calendar app and scrolled through it.
"I'm just curious. What do you need to check?"
Stiles was silent, working out dates. "Holy shit," he breathed out.
"What?" Derek asked him.
"I missed Lydia's eighteenth birthday. It was six days ago." Stiles turned to Derek. "She didn't say anything!"
Derek grabbed Stiles' leg when he shifted to get up. His hand had landed above Stiles' knee and made Stiles swallow and stay still. "You should talk to her about it later on."
Stiles had to take a moment before asking, "Why?"
"What were you doing specifically on her birthday?"
"I was, oh. I'd just come home. Did she do it because of me?"
Derek hadn't moved his hand either up or down Stiles' leg, but squeezed it and rubbed his thumb in a circle. Stiles tried to ignore the warmth that was sinking into him from the touch. "It's not your fault. Lydia makes her own choices." Derek squeezed his leg again.
Stiles scrunched up his mouth. "Okay."
"Okay? You're agreeing with me?" Derek raised an eyebrow.
"I agree with you a lot, actually." Stiles took a chance and leant against Derek's side. When Derek allowed it and didn't move his hand, Stiles counted it as a win. "I may not have when we first met, but now it's different. You've grown, I've grown, there's been a whole lot of growing."
Derek chuckled, and rubbed his thumb against Stiles' knee again.
After a pause, where he clenched his jaw to stop from shivering at Derek's touch, Stiles continued, "So what should I do? Lydia deserves something amazing to celebrate her birthday."
Derek said nothing but shifted until his own leg was pressed up against Stiles, trapping his thumb between them. His fingers were still splayed out on Stiles' inner thigh.
Stiles rested his head back on the tree truck. He blinked, and thought about Lydia. "Oh! We could give her a surprise party! Just a small one, because she enjoys them a whole lot more than the huge parties she always thought she had to give."
Derek leaned his head back next to Stiles and turned to face him. Stiles resolutely stared straight ahead. He could feel Derek's eyes tracing his face. "What?"
"If you ever second-guess why we go out of our way for you, you're an idiot," Derek said quietly.
"Huh?"
"You believe you're alone. Or deserve to be. That you've done stuff that makes you a bad person."
Stiles had a moment of shock, hearing Derek voice his internal feelings. Yet again, Derek was proving just how perceptive he could be. "How do you know that?"
"I had those same thoughts for a long time," Derek admitted. "It's in your eyes. In your body language. It's like looking at myself sometimes."
"Technically, you've been hanging out with me for a total of two days, so you can't have worked all that out so quickly. And you're wrong about you, you're not a bad person and you have all of us." Stiles wanted to say Derek had him.
"I know that now, but it took me a while to figure it out. And I've been paying attention to you for longer than two days. Since we first met, actually. You're hard to ignore, you make sure of it." Derek squeezed his leg again. "You have us, too, you know, Stiles. We do all the things we do because we love you."
Stiles wasn't sure if he was actually capable of breathing anymore. He'd stopped somewhere around Derek saying he'd been paying attention to him the entire time he'd known him. When Derek included himself in the group of people who loved him, he was sure his heart stopped working.
He blinked and leaned away, shifting until Derek had to move his hand off his leg. He didn't know what to say because he was struck by a longing so fierce all he wanted to do was kiss Derek and hold him and not let go. He pulled back the blankets, grabbed his cane and stood up shakily. He couldn't walk right away as he had to stretch out the muscles in his back and legs.
"Stiles?" Derek's voice was unsure.
"We should take in the pillows and blankets. Help Lydia." Stiles bent slowly and picked up one huge pillow. He couldn't manage anything else without falling over or dropping it.
Derek stood up and touched his elbow. Stiles didn't move away.
"Thank you. For what you said." Stiles told him. He didn't want Derek believing him a complete dick. It wasn't his fault Stiles was having this problem. "I'm, I don't, it's not." He gave up trying to explain without telling Derek how he felt about him. He sighed sadly. His feelings for Derek were going to stuff up their friendship.
Derek was quiet, and Stiles hugged the pillow to his chest one handed while he clenched his cane in the other and leant on it awkwardly.
"Stiles. I'm sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable."
"No. It didn't. You were being kind and I'm," Stiles stopped himself again. He wanted to say 'stupid' but Derek would ask why he was. He had to move now, his legs were having issues and he didn't want to fall over while Derek was there. He wasn't sure if Derek would pick him up and carry him and he didn't know which would be worse right then; Derek carrying him, or deciding not to.
Stiles took a wobbly step and leant against his cane heavily. If he took it slow, he should be okay. He took another step and tilted sideways. Before he could so much as register he was going to fall, Derek had his hand back on Stiles' elbow and was steadying him. He let go when Stiles was stable. Neither of them said anything.
Stiles managed to make it back inside still carrying Lydia's pillow, and handed it to Scott who took it out to Lydia's car. He then sat down in the living room and massaged his calf muscles, grimacing as they twinged in complaint.
Derek continued to help Lydia and Scott and soon almost everything was packed up apart from a few blankets and the picnic table.
Stiles was still contemplating things when Scott said he'd call him tomorrow when he could. Lydia was next and Stiles hugged her extra hard. "Sorry for being me, Lyds. And thank you, for being you."
Lydia pulled back and shook her head. "Let's make a deal. You stop being mean so you don't have to feel like you need to apologize all the time and I'll continue being the friend who loves you."
"Deal."
As Lydia left, Stiles' dad came home. Not wanting to deal with that particular problem just then, Stiles excused himself and went to his room, saying his was tired. He could feel the eyes of both his dad and Derek on him but he didn't acknowledge either of them.
When he got to his bedroom, Stiles grabbed some comics from a pile and sat down at his desk.
***
There was something about the placement of Stiles' room that made it possible to hear conversations from the back porch very clearly if his desk window was open.
Stiles had used this fact more than once to listen to his mom and dad after they'd sent him to bed. Sometimes in the warmer months, they'd sit outside talking. He would leave his window open to hear their voices as he fell asleep.
Derek called his dad's name from outside. Derek and his dad had been bringing in the remaining blankets and had moved the picnic table back around the side of the house. Stiles had a few seconds to make a decision. Either he left his room, shut the window, or listened in. He stayed sitting at his desk, the comic he'd been flipping through held in slack fingers.
"Noah, I just wanted to say sorry for this morning. I don't want you to get the wrong idea," Derek trailed off.
Stiles frowned. What happened this morning? He'd missed something.
Stiles' dad sighed loudly. It was the 'God Help Me that I Have to Have this Conversation' sigh. Stiles was very familiar with it. "Don't worry about what I think, Derek."
"But it wasn't —"
"Oh, I know what it was and what it wasn't. Do you want to talk to me about this?"
"No. Not really," Derek confessed.
"Okay. Let's keep it real simple. I know what it's like to be in your situation. I dealt with Stiles' mom, remember? She drove me nuts." He chuckled like it pained him. "What's really funny is that he's ignorant right now. Imagine when he works out what's going on."
Derek made a helpless sound, and Stiles frowned harder. This was a confusing but interesting conversation.
"I'd pity you, Derek, but you chose this. You had plenty of time to back out and you didn't. Do the right thing. Don't hurt him. He's had too much pain in his life already."
What exactly was Stiles hearing here? He guessed it was about him. His dad wouldn't use that tone or those words about anyone else.
"I can't promise that, Noah. The world doesn't work like that. But I can promise it will never be on purpose. And if it happens, I'll do my best to fix it."
"That's a good answer," his dad said dryly.
"I've thought about it."
"I know. And that helps me to be more comfortable with this than I normally would be. That and the fact you helped, and are still helping. This isn't a passing thing with you, is it?"
"No, it isn't. I wouldn't do anything if it was."
Stiles was still confused. If this was about him, and he was pretty sure it was, he could put a whole lot of context to their words. But without knowing exactly what they were referring to, he could be wishful thinking right now and he refused to go there, because the odds were low.
"Good. He either thinks too much or not enough. He needs someone to balance that out because either way, trouble finds him. Can you deal with that?"
"Yes."
Stiles' dad opened the back door. "Even though I could have lived without it, I'm impressed you spoke up. I may have thought otherwise at first and, unsurprisingly, that was Stiles' fault, but you're a good man, Derek."
There was a significant pause where Derek didn't say anything.
When Stiles' dad spoke again, his voice held slight exasperation. "I'd better go check on what he's doing. When it gets too quiet it means he's doing something he shouldn't. Any other kid would've grown out of it, but it's Stiles."
Stiles would normally be offended by his dad's words but in this instance it was true. He wanted to sit back and mull over their conversation, put too much emphasis on parts of it and generally make himself crazy not understanding what they'd been referring to. He didn't have any time though, because he could hear his dad coming. He couldn't move fast enough to go anywhere so he went back to his comic, hoping he'd appear calm, or at least not like he was trying to cover up a listening-in moment.
His dad appeared in his doorway.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hey, son."
Stiles and his dad could have whole conversations with just a few words. It was all in the tone.
When Stiles said, "Hey", he was saying: "I'm sorry for all of this. And no, I was not up to something."
And when his dad said, "Hey", he was saying: "I love you even though I'm pissed at you, and we will talk about this, and in no way do I believe you're not up to something because that would be too good to be true."
"You coming for dinner soon?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, then."
"Yep."
Stiles' dad walked back out of the room and Derek took his place, loitering in the doorway. "Uh. I'm going to go. I'll call you, if you want." He folded his arms and frowned.
"Yeah, that would be cool," Stiles agreed. "If you want to, I mean."
"I do, if that's okay?" Derek frowned harder.
"Yeah."
"Good. Bye then."
"Bye."
Stiles waited until Derek was out the front door and then leant backwards in his chair. He gave it a few more minutes just to make sure Derek was in his car with the engine going, and then groaned and smacked himself in the forehead.