Derek is used to Laura forcing him to try new things. 'You can't live life without actually going out and trying new things, Der Bear, you need to actually try and enjoy humanity.' She would say. And he would respond with something around the lines of 'I'm not human, and my heart is beating so I say i'm alive' and that would get him a withering glare and a punch to the gut.
So to avoid bodily harm, he let Laura drag him to a psychic fair because apparently humans enjoy being scammed out of their money.
“Can you at least try to look like you're not having an aneurism?” Laura sighs, pulling him forward.
“How is this fun?” Derek asks, face pained. “None of this stuff is real, they just pay some creepy old ladies in turbans to tell them something they want to hear.”
Laura is about to snap at him but an angry crying female is shoving passed them, muttering about fucking liars and morbid bastards.
“Well, it looks like she didn't get what she wanted to hear.” Laura grins and there's that glint in her eye that means-
“No.” Derek plants his feet into the ground and stands stiff. “Absolutely not, Laura, I am not getting my fortune read. I agreed to accompany you, this is not part of the deal.”
“C'mon, Derek.” Laura grips his arm with a little too much strength. “What's the point of coming with me if you're not going to participate in anything? I wont force you to go into any more, just this one.”
Derek's frown deepens and Laura stares at him expectantly until he deflates and lets himself be dragged once again.
He doesn't know what he's expecting, really. An old hippie lady in a turban wearing too many rings that smells like herbs and old cheese, maybe.
What he gets is a boy with pouty pink lips, tousled hair and moles dotting his pale face. Derek eyes him appreciatively because his clothes cling to his body in a very flattering way and he smells, god, he smells amazing- Derek feels Laura's smug stare and clears his throat. He just wants the psychic to come in so they can leave and he can avoid embarrassment from perving on the young assistant.
The boy looks up from where he's fiddling with an old leather bound book. He blinks and smiles, “Hi, are you here for a reading?” Before Derek can answer, the boy continues. “Of course you are, why else would you be here? Unless you're here to raid my belongings and collect-- oh god, you're not, are you? Because I told Jackson I don't have his money and he can go suck a dick-” He clamps his mouth shut when Laura starts giggling.
“God, I'm sorry.” The boy flushes, running thin fingers through his hair. “Please take a seat. My name is Stiles, and how may I be of service?”
“He's here for a reading. Tarot cards, crystal ball, do it all. He needs to experience life.” Laura's grin is feral as she forces Derek into the worn stool.
Stiles smiles at her and licks his lips. He glances out the side of the tent and laughs. “Crystal balls are bogus, tarot cards are usually lies but they can be read correctly if in the right hands.”
Derek raises an eyebrow and Stiles wonders if it's possible to feel threatened by a bush of hair. Because he is, he feels very threatened and insecure and the eyebrows are making him nervous.
“Aren't you supposed to encourage the sales of these psychic people” Derek asks, but it's not even a question because his voice doesn't fluctuate or indicate any really curiosity. In fact, he looks pained and uncomfortable.
“Sure, I guess.” Stiles shrugs. “Okay, I have one question before I start: do you want the truth?”
“Why wouldn't I want the truth?” Derek sighs. “Isn't that what this is for?”
“No. Most people are here so they can feel better about their lives. They want faulty reassurance that their lives are going to be perfect, not reality.” Stiles snorts and holds out his palm. Derek stares at it.
“Uh, I need your hand.” Stiles wiggles his fingers. “As handsome as you are, I can't do the reading by just looking at your face.”
Laura chokes on a laugh and Derek glares. “You're the psychic? Aren't you a little young?”
“I'm 24.” Stiles frowns and Derek is genuinely shocked. “If you like, I can go steal a turban from the old lady in the tent across from me. Maybe throw on some dangling necklaces and not shower for a few days. News flash, none of that makes the reading any more authentic.”
Derek is shocked speechless and Laura is now outright chortling in the corner. Stiles gives them both a wary smile. “Sorry. Boss always told me I should stop being honest. Hand, please.”
Derek offers his hand as if he's putting it into an alligators mouth and Stiles rolls his eyes. He grips Derek's hand and Derek jumps as a jolt runs through his body. It's not the 'omg we're destined' shock that happens in cliché and horrible romantic movies, but it's an actual jolt that's painful and forces a growl out of Derek's throat.
Laura has a hand on his shoulder and she's digging her claws in. “Sorry, Derek's been watching too many animal documentaries.” She grits out. Stiles swallows and offers his hand again.
“No worries.” Stiles laughs nervously. “I've had worse reactions. Uh, do you want past, present, or future readings? Answers to questions... right, you said all. I'll do all then.”
Stiles' head is pounding, hazy, and it almost feels like he's in a different world.
When they touch again, there's no jolt, only the warm pressure of another hand. Stiles' eyes are closed and his eyebrows are furrowed. His lips are parted and he looks as if he's in pain and Derek has to commend him for being a good actor.
Stiles abruptly pulls his hand away and glares at the table. “Ashes.” He grumbles. Laura and Derek stiffen. “What?” Derek asks cautiously.
“I can't get a good reading on your past.” Stiles shrugs. “It usually means I've burnt out for the day or the client is still repressing memories or are unwilling to share. All I can get a definite vision of is ashes and smoke.” There's a blip in his heartbeat but Derek expects nothing less- psychics do make their livings off of lying to people. Stiles probably heard about the fire, it was all over the papers when they were younger.
“Okay.” Laura drawls. “You're on the right track. Continue--”
“You killed her!” A man storms into the tent with a gun pointed at the lanky psychic.
“Sir, I have clients at the moment. Can you come back at a later time. Say around never?” Stiles purses his lips, heartbeat steadily ratcheting up. Derek would think this was a publicity stunt but he can literally smell the rage and misery and fear pouring off the man in waves of red. Plus, the gun is loaded with real bullets.
“You killed her.” The man whispers, voice hoarse and broken. “She was paranoid the entire week and then- then she left the house and never came back! Her body was found in the stream. I know you had something to do with it!”
Stiles winces and licks his lips. “I gave you the reading like you asked, buddy. I told you to be careful, to stay away from water, but you didn't listen. I'm not allowed to interfere, only to warn. I'm sorry for your loss, I truly am, but please put away your weapon or I'll be forced to call the police.”
Laura twitches like she's about to tackle the man down but Stiles steps forward. He places his hand on the gun and meets the man's eyes, “I suggest you leave. Something is telling me that you have a bigger part to play in her death than just being the person who found her body.” Stiles eyes are angry now. “Would you like to know more about your future, sir? Your death will be painful and slow and you will suffer- like your girlfriend did. You'll find yourself praying to the Gods, trying to repent for your many horrible sins, but no one will understand because you'll be choking on your own blood.”
The bulky and balding brute takes a shaky step backwards and Stiles plucks the gun from his hands. “Now, if you don't leave, I will interfere, and you'll die by my hands instead.”
Stiles sighs as the man runs away and he deftly unloads the gun with steady and sure fingers before turning back to the siblings. “Well, as exciting as that was, I don't think I'm in the most stable mindset to give you a proper reading.”
“Was it true?” Laura asks, voice intrigued. “What you said to him?”
“The first part was true. I'm guessing it'll be on the news in a week or so.” Stiles says sadly. “The second part was for shits and giggles. He's going to rot in jail, I just gave him something to think about for the next 30 or so years.” Laura, and even Derek, grin at this. Stiles winks. “There's no need to pay, since I didn't get to read you and probably traumatized you both. Sorry about that, by the way. The amount of death threats I get for telling the truth is actually pretty depressing.”
Laura and Derek turn to leave and Stiles tries to bite his own tongue. “Wait.” The boy sighs, eyes pained. “Take these.” He takes a ring off his thumb and ring finger and hands it to the siblings.
“For what?” Laura asks, twirling the ring between her lithe fingers.
“Souveniers.” Stiles takes in a shuddering breath and grips the counter for support. His heart is beating wildly and both wolves can smell the sheen of sweat forming on his skin. “Take them.”
“Are you okay?” Derek asks cautiously, advancing slowly.
“I'll be fine.” Stiles grins, saluting with two fingers. “Just promise me you'll take care of the rings. If they don't fit, wear them on a necklace.”
Derek's about to ask why but Laura interrupts. “Of course, sweetheart. Thank you for your time.”
Stiles nods and Derek see's him lunge for the bottle out of the corner of his eye.
Derek is twirling the ring around his index finger as he watches the tv with a frown. “Laura. Look.”
Laura looks up from her book and a laugh slips from her mouth. “Holy shit. Stiles was actually a psychic.”
On the television, the man from the tent three days ago is being shoved into the back of a police car for making a drug deal that eventually led to his girlfriends death. He's also being charged with the aiding and abetting a fugitive and for the assault of a civilian. “He was weird.” Derek sighs.
“Who? The murderer?” Laura cocks her head.
“No, the kid. The psychic. It's been bothering me, why'd he want us to take the rings so badly?” Derek grunts and rubs his eyes with his palms.
“Find yourself thinking about the kid a lot?” Laura teases, a grin plastered on her face. “You reeked of arousal, little bro. If the kid wasn't so freaked, I bet he would have too.”
“That's the thing though, why was he so freaked?” Derek ignores his sisters attempts to play matchmaker. “He looked and smelled like he was ready to pass out when we left.”
“I dunno. He was nice though.” Laura smiles, holding her hand up to the light. The silver ban is engraved with strange symbols that glint in the light. It's identical to Derek's, but his is black.
Laura freezes and sits up, eyes flashing blood red. “Someone's outside--”” Before she can finish, the door is blown open and a crossbow bolt is jammed through her stomach. It reeks of wolfsbane. Derek roars in anger and lunges for the hunter, claws out and eager to slash into the mans throat. Laura is hurt. His Alpha is hurt. His sister.
He takes the hunter down but another one is on him. Derek vaguely hears another roar, not his sisters, and before he knows it, there are 8 dead hunters at his feet and 4 angry werewolves in his home but Derek doesn't have time to question it because Laura.
“What happened?” Laura asks, holding her head. “I- I died. What the actual fuck, where'd the arrow go? Who are they? Derek?”
“Laura.” Derek whimpers, pulling her into a hug. “I thought you were- oh my god. Laura.”
She pats his back weakly before confronting the four wolves. “Who are you?”
“I'm Scott.” The one with curly hair and big brown eyes huffs. “That's Isaac, Boyd and Erica.” A strawberry blonde, human, walks through the gaping hole where the door used to be and frowns in distaste at the bodies.
“Lydia, he told you to stay home.” Scott whines. “Jackson, damn it!”
Another wolf walks in and rolls his eyes. “I tried to stop her. She got the best of me.”
“You're twice her size and you have super strength!” Scott sighs. “Did you even try?”
“Why are you here?” Laura interrupts the quarreling pups with an amused look.
“We need your rings.” Lydia frowns, holding out a dainty hand. “Please. Now, would be a good time, actually.”
“Why?” Derek asks, hand reaching for the band around his finger.
“Because that idiot nearly killed himself today protecting you both!” Lydia snarls and it's impressive for a human.
“I told you Lyds, I'm stronger than that.” Stiles walks through the door with a sigh, leaning heavily on an oak cane. He smells like sweat, fatigue and alcohol and the sibling are both still lost. “Alpha Hale, Derek, it's lovely to see you again. But Lydia is right, actually, I kinda need those rings back.”
Laura and Derek exchange equally confused looks before handing the pieces of jewelery back. Stiles slips on the rings and groans in relief. The tall, curly blond with insane cheek bones pummels into the boy with a grin, nuzzling his neck. “You finally don't smell like death. Thank god.”
“Aw, Isaac, were you worried for me?” Stiles pats his back before being pulled into manly bro hugs by the other wolves.
“Yeah, okay, I still don't know what's going on.” Laura deadpans.
“What's going on is that Stiles here placed a protection ward on the rings.” Lydia growls, glaring at Stiles who is glaring at the dead hunter. “Which wouldn't be so bad if, I don't know, it wasn't against the law for psychics to interfere in predictions.”
“Not to mention he used up all his energy keeping those spells up.” Boyd adds.
“And without the rings, he's literally stripped of his defenses.” Erica sighs.
“I told you guys, the rings aren't what gives me power.” Stiles grumbles, kicking at the floor.
“Yeah, but they're what keeps you from being spotted and murdered.” Lydia scowls. Stiles blows her a kiss and she frowns angrily and stomps away.
“C'mon, Lyds, I'm fine!” Stiles groans after her. “Jackson, why did you bring her here.”
“I enjoy seeing you in pain, Stilinski.” Jackson arrogantly blows him a mocking kiss and walks out after his girlfriend.
“That's why I'm alive?” Laura asks, recovering from her shock. “How? Why?”
Derek is staring at Stiles, confusion clouding his senses. He doesn't know how he's supposed to feel.
“You wouldn't have died, not yet anyway.” Stiles takes a seat on the couch. “You would have been crippled forever and always on the run because this guy--” He kicks at the dead body of one of the hunters. “would have killed Derek and escaped.”
Derek stiffens and begins to growl.
“Calm down, big guy.” Stiles stands. “Danger is averted, you are both free to live your lives.”
“Wait.” Derek grasps his wrist and another painful jolt goes through him.
Stiles winces and pulls away gently. “You shouldn't touch me without warning. I'm weak, my first instinct is to take energy from people stronger.”
Derek nods and clears his throat. “Why did you help us?”
“Too many innocent people have died because I followed the law and kept my mouth shut.” Stiles lips press into a thin line. “It felt right.”
“Let us repay you.” Laura speaks and Derek nods. “You saved our lives, and for wolves, that's a debt we can never fully repay. We'll do anything.”
Stiles is about to reject but he pauses. “You don't have a pack.”
“No- absolutely not, Stiles--” Scott growls but the psychic glowers at him.
“I- no, it's only me and Derek.” Laura furrows her brows. “Why?”
“They need an Alpha. There's strength in numbers, so it would only help you.” Stiles motions to the wolves who are protesting behind him. “I know you don't know one another, but take my word that they will be loyal to you.”
“You don't have an Alpha?” Laura's eyebrows are receding int her hairline. “How are you alive?”
“Please, Stiles.” Isaac says weakly. “We're fine.”
“We have you.” Erica grumbles at the floor. “Why are you trying to get rid of us.”
“I'm not even a wolf, jesus christ.” Stiles exclaims. “I'm a human with some mojo! You need a real Alpha.”
“We've gone this long without one.” Even Boyd speaks.
“Yeah, and that's a miracle.” Stiles sighs.
“What did we do wrong?” Scott asks, trying to be angry but sounding way too much like a kicked puppy.
“You didn't do anything wrong!” Stiles is flailing. “Oh my god, what is wrong with you all? You're making it seem like I'm giving you up for adoption. Guys, I'm a human, it is literally impossible for me to be Alpha material. All I do is keep you from killing each other or yourselves. You need an actual wolf to answer your wolf questions because I swear to god if I have to research about werewolf mating and sex because you can't keep it in your pants- yes, I'm talking about you Scott, don't give me that look- one more time, I will just leave you to your doom anyway.”
“You've survived under a human?” Laura asks in awe. “How did you all turn?”
“Rogue Alpha.” Isaac shrugs. “Stiles trapped it and killed it because it was controlling us. We all grew up in the same town, so we decided to just stick together. Stiles locked us up in cells on the full moon and shot us in the legs so we couldn't run.”
“How the hell would I know it would piss you off.” Stiles grumbles. “Besides, you healed.”
Laura chokes on a laugh. “I'm impressed, kid.”
“So, will you consider it?” Stiles asks. “I don't know how it works, but it would be good for them.”
“Derek?” Laura asks cautiously because he's crowding Stiles into the corner and sniffing at him.
“Uh.” Stiles says dumbly. “What are you- and your nose is now in my neck. Okay. What's going on. Are you going to bite me? Because just so you know, I just saved your life and I actually like my neck so... guys, seriously, you claim loyalty and you're just going to let me get mauled.”
All of the other wolves are stifling laughter because Derek doesn't smell angry. He smells of arousal and heavy confusion. Laura is gripping Erica as she hunches over in laughter. Everyone is just as bad and they're all snorting at Stiles' misery.
Derek noses under Stiles ear and takes in a deep breath, holding Stiles still. “Why do you smell like that?”
“I- like what? Sweat? Because you're freaking me out and my glands don't know how to react in any other way but to excrete my fear in puddles.” Stiles grabs Derek's hand and his eyes roll back in his head. “Oh. Mother of God and all things holy.”
Derek releases Stiles and scrambles back, eyes wide and face flushed red in embarrassment. “I'm so sorry.”
“Well.” Stiles huffs, voice shaking and eyes averted. “I'll take that as a yes, you'll accept them as your pack?”
“If they accept me, I'll accept them.” Laura answers.
Scott and the others hesitate before nodding. “It's not like Stiles is leaving us.”
Stiles slips out of the room.
It turns out you don't have to perform any satanic rituals or virgin offerings to become pack. It's just acceptance and mutual trust and a bit of bonding and it get sealed on it's own. It takes three months for the pack to get used to working under a real Alpha, another two months for them to gain trust, and one last month and a bloody fight against harpies for the bond to solidify into a real working pack.
In the 6 months, Stiles draws in on himself, starts touching less and less, doesn't use his powers. But the pack understands that he needs a break from the constant visions and precognitions.
“So are we ever going to talk about you molesting me on that first day?” Stiles brings up one afternoon while the wolves are training. It's just him and Derek, sitting together and watching, a routine that had somehow formed. It took months to force Derek into actually talking back, but hey, it works.
“No.” Derek frowns and turns away.
“No.” Stiles repeats. “Do you even know what happened? Because you seemed just as confused as me, buddy, which makes me doubly confused.”
“Denial.” Stiles hums. “That seems productive. It's part of the healing process, take your time. It's not like this hasn't happened to me before.”
“What.” Derek snarls, crowding in on Stiles again.
“No.” Stiles puts his hands up. “No can do, buddy. Once was traumatic enough for you, I don't think you can handle molesting me again. You'll hurt yourself.”
“What do you mean it's happened before?” Derek asks because he's pretty sure Stiles only smells good to him and to think that another wolf had been in Stiles' space makes Derek physically nauseous.
“The rogue Alpha dude.” Stiles waves off Derek's growl with an odd look. “He bit everyone else against their will, but he kidnapped me. Said it was 'cause I smelled good or something. He asked me if I wanted the bite and I had said no. He probably would've bitten me anyway but he didn't know I had abilities? So I trapped him and killed him and yeah, it was all very confusing. Maybe I'm wolfnip or something. I'll ask Laura, maybe she knows.”
He stands but Derek grabs his hand and yanks him back down. Stiles stares at their interlinked hands and purses his lips, face pinched and hand tense.
“You can read me, if you like.” Derek offers. Stiles has been avoiding all skin contact the past months, making sure that he's carefully prepared when they brush arms or pat backs. Derek doesn't know why this bothers him, but it does. It bothers him a lot, more than it should.
They sit there for a while and when Stiles pulls away, he's silent. Which is strange for the boy considering his mouth is open more often than not.
“What's wrong?” Derek asks, senses alert.
“Nothing.” Stiles grins, but his eyes are heavy. “Just having a hard time connecting. Probably burnt out.” There's a stutter in his heartbeat but Derek doesn't point it out.
He wishes he did.
Three hours later, Stiles is piss drunk with a bottle of pills in his hand and Derek wishes he had called the boy out on his lies and forced him to tell him what was wrong.
“Stiles.” Lydia doesn't sound angry, like Derek expects, she sounds broken. “Oh, honey.”
“I don't want to see anymore.” Stiles grips his head and Isaac takes this opportunity to pluck the pills and alcohol out of his hands. “I don't want this gift anymore.” He spits venomously.
“Stiles, I'm so sorry.” Scott sounds just as pained as he pulls his bestfriend into a hug. “Let us help you-”
“You can't.” Stiles grits out.
Laura orders the Beta's out of the room and they hesitate to leave their friend before Stiles shoos them out. She kneels down in front of the boy and grips his face. “What's wrong?”
“Derek.” Stiles flails in Derek's general direction. “Derek's going to fall in love with me.”
Laura stills and so does Derek's physical body. His insides though, they're dropping and spinning and pulsating in both rejection and shock.
“Okay.” Laura recovers. “Okay, why is this bad? I know Derek's kinda emotionally disadvantaged and he can't converse like a normal person, but I swear, he'd never hurt you.” Derek agrees with all of it.
“It's not him.” Stiles delivers the famous break up line and it's kinda pitiful because Derek didn't even get to ask him out yet. “It's me.”
“I like you.” Derek grunts and proves he can't converse like a human. “The way you are, I like it.”
Stiles' smile is watery and pained and he slumps against the toilet where he was puking his guts out moments earlier. “Not like that.” Stiles lifts an arm and drops it back in his lap. “But Derek- Laura, he can't love me. You can't love me. The pack can't. Okay, that's the problem! I'm the problem!”
“Too late for that, kid.” Laura sighs, gripping him to her chest. “We're all inexplicably fond of you. I think you guaranteed yourself a place in my heart when you saved our lives. The pack already loves you, there's nothing you can do to change that.” The wolves whine from where they're listening in outside.
“Every time you touch me-” Stiles slurs. “When I'm not prepared or when I'm reading you all, do you know what I see?”
“What?” Laura asks. Derek is kneeling besides them, hand stretched gingerly outwards and yeah. He can see how he would fall in love with Stiles. He already has a stupid crush on him.
“Death.” Stiles spits, cringing away from Derek's hand. “I see you all huddled over my dead body and crying and that's all I see. Past, present, future- same thing over and over again. I die and you suffer and this gift isn't even a fucking gift anymore! It hasn't been for a long time.”
The entire pack is jammed into the bathroom now with wide eyes and shaking limbs.
“No.” Derek growls. “You can change it. You saved me and Laura when you saw our death. You're not going to die.”
“A seer cannot change his fate once he sees his future.” Lydia chokes. “Nature must run it's course.”
Stiles nods drunkenly. “I was okay with it, y'know? I thought, hey, you have each other, you'll cope after I die. But then I read Derek. And Derek was stupidly in love with me and it was different than what I saw with you guys. Like, he actually loved me, wanted me, and I loved him back and now that I've seen how we work together, it makes it worse to know I'm going to lose it all. It hurts to know that I'm going to take this away from him.”
Derek clenches his jaw and grabs Stiles' arm, dragging him out of the bathroom. He hears Laura command the beta's to stand down.
“What are you doing, Derek?” Stiles sighs. “Run, save yourself. I'm bad news.”
“No.” Derek growls. “No.”
“I know all about you.” Stiles grins and it's feral and mean and not Stiles at all. “From the moment I touched your hand. I saw more than ashes, Derek. I saw a devil with blonde hair decimate your family. I saw your uncle go into a comatose shock. I saw your sister forced into a position of power that she didn't want. I saw the exact moment your soul crumbled. You died in that fire too, Derek, along with your family.”
“Stop it.” Derek snarls, grip tightening.
“Stop what, Derek? The truth? Truth is, it's that same comatose uncle that bit every one of my friends. It's him that I had to kill because he had some sick infatuation with my scent. I trapped him. Made him think I would accept the bite, become his mate, and in the last second I slit his throat.” Stiles hisses.
“What are you trying to do?” Derek asks, face pinched. He knew it was Peter, Laura knew it was Peter, but they both ignored it for the sake of the pack. Peter was wrong and he needed to die.
“I'm trying to make things right.” Stiles shouts. “I shouldn't have meddled! I should have let you and your sister die, because that's how things were supposed to be! We should have never formed any type of relationship-- I'm supposed to die alone, Derek! That's what I've been seeing my entire life. But now you die with me. Because what I saw when I read you wasn't my death- what I saw was you going into the same state as your uncle- unresponsive and useless.”
“You're trying to make me hate you.” Derek laughs and it's bitter and wild. “Do you honestly think that's going to work? Pick at my weaknesses until I decide that hey, I don't like Stiles after all. That I can forget about this and move on with my life. It doesn't work like that.”
“Then make it work!” Stiles growls. “I'll leave the pack, go somewhere far away.”
“That's why you handed the pack over to Laura.” Derek's face contorts in horrified realization. “How long have you been seeing this? Your death? How long?”
“When we first met in the tent. I saw everything. Every little thing.” Stiles' voice is dead.
“Then you know why I can't leave you alone.” Derek kneels in front of Stiles, gripping the boys knees. “You know why I wont leave you alone.”
“Because I'm your mate.” Stiles shrugs, swiping at his eyes. “Yeah, Derek, I know.”
Derek takes in a shuddering breath. “Yes. Because you're... my mate. It's fucked up and I don't know how it happened but we bonded. It doesn't matter if you run away or leave because it will never break. We're stuck together. If you die, I die. If you leave, I'll be in agony every step of the way. I just found out what you are to me Stiles, and you've known all along. So if you want to make it right, stay. Stay and let me help you. You broke the law once, we'll find a way to do it again.”
Stiles is stuck between celebrating because that's the most Derek has ever said in one sitting and crying because this is honesty so fucked up. Instead, he makes a strangled sound and lets himself be pulled into a bone crushing hug. “I'm sorry.” Stiles sobs. “I'm really sorry. I didn't- Derek, I don't want to die.”
“You wont.” It's a loaded promise, Derek knows. “You wont die.”
“Okay.” The boy nods. “Okay.”
Stiles and Derek do fall in love. It's gradually at first and suddenly they wake up and realize that there's no going back and they're ruined for everyone else. And they accept it, because it was fate and other cliché words.
They go on like this and Derek and Stiles begin to believe that they can actually get passed this, that they can change the future.
So it's a kick to the face when Stiles is kidnapped by hunters who managed to track him down from when he removed his rings in the beginning. They find him broken and bleeding and dying on the concrete floor.
“'m sorry.” Stiles slurs, eyes drowning in tears. Derek is openly sobbing, gripping Stiles and begging him not to go and the pack knows that there's nothing they could do.
“Sorry I couldn't change fate.” Stiles whimpers. Derek presses a kiss to Stiles' bloodied lips, not moving, just staying pressed together. Derek feels the moment Stiles' lips go slack, when he stops kissing back, and when he starts kissing a corpse.
And just like fate had planned, Derek shatters. He shatters into billions of tiny pieces and suddenly there's no more meaning in life.
Stiles snaps his eyes open with a shock, rearing back in pain. Derek is staring at him, gripping his hand at the jolt and growling.
Laura slinks over and subtly sinks her claws into her brothers shoulder. “Sorry, Derek's been watching too many animal documentaries.” She grits out. Stiles swallows and offers his hand again.
“No worries.” Stiles laughs nervously. “I've had worse reactions. Uh, do you want past, present, or future readings? Answers to questions... right, you said all. I'll do all then.”
When they touch again, there's no jolt, only the warm pressure of another hand. Stiles' eyes are closed and his eyebrows are furrowed. He doesn't try to do a real reading, he doesn't tell Derek of the future he just saw, he just closes his eyes and fakes it as he tries to keep in the tears.
“Wolves roam in your future.” Stiles says, voice thick. “And you will be granted a new family. That's all I could see. I don't know how to interpret that since there's no wolves in California.”
Derek looks at him funny but just nods. When the two leave, Stiles texts Scott about the hunters that are going to kill two siblings, tells him to take them out of the picture as soon as he can.
He turns off his phone, picks up his bags, and leaves the city, mourning what could have been and never will be.
Stiles is not going to meddle with fate, not this time.