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tamingthemuseTitle: somewhere, within [1/?]
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 494 - driving me sane
Warnings: AU/canon divergent around 318 Riddled. Will probably be Derek/Stiles.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~930
Summary: Derek returns to Beacon Hills to find that Stiles is at Eichen House.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
-- = --
When Derek returns to Beacon Hills, the first thing he does is find Scott. For one, it’s proper etiquette when entering another pack’s territory—and, for as long as Beacon Hills has been Hale territory, there’s no longer a Hale alpha; Scott, having been bitten by a Hale, and now an alpha himself, has become the alpha of the territory by default. Secondly, Derek’s finally come to terms with much of the things he’s been struggling with for the last few years. He’s let go of the burdens he’d carried by himself since Paige died, he’s accepted that the fire wasn’t his fault. He’s ready to move on and part of that is returning to Beacon Hills and teaching Scott everything he needs to know about being a werewolf.
After reluctantly dropping his things off at the loft, Derek heads over to the high school. He only has to wait fifteen or so minutes before the final bell rings and students start streaming out of the doors. Through the veritable chaos that is a high school parking lot on a Friday, Derek’s easily able to spot Scott, Isaac, Lydia, Allison, and a girl he doesn’t recognize trailing behind him. Scott pauses at the top of the steps before his gaze lands on Derek. As he starts over, Derek climbs out of his car to wait for him.
Scott approaches by himself and he hesitates before speaking. “Did you hear about Stiles? Is that why you’re here?”
It had struck Derek as odd not to see Stiles beside Scott as the group of friends left the building, but not something to worry about. Scott’s scent and the expression on his face leave Derek feeling anxious. “No. What happened?”
“He, um, he electrocuted himself. We’re not sure why or if he—if he meant to, but…” Scott visibly deflates. “We did something when we made that sacrifice to find our parents, Derek. Me and Allison, we’ve been dealing with it. But whatever it did to Stiles, it’s different. There’s something else going on with him.”
“Is he okay?”
Scott shakes his head. “He was in the hospital for a while then, once he’d mostly healed from his burns, they move him to Eichen House.”
“Eichen House,” Derek echoes. “Why would they—”
“They think he tried to kill himself, but I know Stiles and he wouldn’t do that to his dad. Besides that, though, he’s gone… catatonic. He’s not really Stiles anymore. I mean, every time I’ve gone to visit, he just sits there, staring into space. He doesn’t recognize me.”
Derek leans back against his car and tries to wrap his head around what Scott’s telling him and he can’t imagine it. “What do his doctors think?”
Scott shrugs. “They think his condition is permanent,” he says, like he’s repeating something verbatim.
“And Deaton?”
“He’s not sure.” He pauses and glances over to where the rest of his pack is waiting for him. “If you want to see him you should talk to his dad. I know he visits, but it’s hard for him.”
Derek can imagine. He says goodbye to Scott after setting up a time to meet during the weekend.
#
Eichen House is a dreary looking building and Derek feels his hackles rise just entering the front gate. Inside, he’s overwhelmed with scents of the patients’ emotions. A nurse leads him into the day room and takes him over to where Stiles sits in an old upholstered chair next to a window that overlooks the landscaped courtyard. Derek pulls the chair that’s across from him even closer so they’re sitting almost knee to knee. “Stiles?” Tentatively, he reaches out and touches the back of the hand that rests in his lap.
Stiles doesn’t acknowledge him; he continues to stare outside, blinking slowly every couple of moments.
Derek takes Stiles’ hand then, holds it between his own. “Stiles? Can you hear me?”
After a long stretch of minutes, Stiles’ attention still focused beyond the window, one of his fingertips twitches against Derek’s palm.
Derek squeezes Stiles’ hand. “I know you’re still in there. I don’t know what happened, or why you did what you did, but we’ll figure it out.” There’s not much he can do—not right now, at least—so he sits there, holding Stiles’ hand, and tells him about what he’s done since he left, about Cora and South America. He visits daily but keeps his suspicions to himself until he can be certain that the faint twitches of Stiles’ fingers against his palm are more than involuntary spasms.
It takes almost two weeks before he’s convinced enough to tell Scott.
Scott’s skeptical, to say the least, but he comes to Eichen House with Derek, takes the seat next to Stiles—and his hand—when Derek tells him to. Derek sits in a wooden chair right in front of them, touches Stiles’ knee gently. “Hey, Stiles. I brought Scott with me today. Can you tell him hello?” He shifts his gaze from Stiles’ face to Scott’s and waits.
There’s always a hesitation before he responds, and Derek has a theory about that, but his fingers never fail to move. He sees it in Scott’s eyes when he feels the twitch against his own hand. “You think—”
“It’s not random. It’s only when I say hello. Just the once in the whole hour or so we sit together.” Derek gently grips Stiles’ knee. “He’s in there. We’re gonna save him.”
Scott looks from Derek back to Stiles. “If you’ve got a plan, I’m all ears.”
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 494 - driving me sane
Warnings: AU/canon divergent around 318 Riddled. Will probably be Derek/Stiles.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~930
Summary: Derek returns to Beacon Hills to find that Stiles is at Eichen House.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
When Derek returns to Beacon Hills, the first thing he does is find Scott. For one, it’s proper etiquette when entering another pack’s territory—and, for as long as Beacon Hills has been Hale territory, there’s no longer a Hale alpha; Scott, having been bitten by a Hale, and now an alpha himself, has become the alpha of the territory by default. Secondly, Derek’s finally come to terms with much of the things he’s been struggling with for the last few years. He’s let go of the burdens he’d carried by himself since Paige died, he’s accepted that the fire wasn’t his fault. He’s ready to move on and part of that is returning to Beacon Hills and teaching Scott everything he needs to know about being a werewolf.
After reluctantly dropping his things off at the loft, Derek heads over to the high school. He only has to wait fifteen or so minutes before the final bell rings and students start streaming out of the doors. Through the veritable chaos that is a high school parking lot on a Friday, Derek’s easily able to spot Scott, Isaac, Lydia, Allison, and a girl he doesn’t recognize trailing behind him. Scott pauses at the top of the steps before his gaze lands on Derek. As he starts over, Derek climbs out of his car to wait for him.
Scott approaches by himself and he hesitates before speaking. “Did you hear about Stiles? Is that why you’re here?”
It had struck Derek as odd not to see Stiles beside Scott as the group of friends left the building, but not something to worry about. Scott’s scent and the expression on his face leave Derek feeling anxious. “No. What happened?”
“He, um, he electrocuted himself. We’re not sure why or if he—if he meant to, but…” Scott visibly deflates. “We did something when we made that sacrifice to find our parents, Derek. Me and Allison, we’ve been dealing with it. But whatever it did to Stiles, it’s different. There’s something else going on with him.”
“Is he okay?”
Scott shakes his head. “He was in the hospital for a while then, once he’d mostly healed from his burns, they move him to Eichen House.”
“Eichen House,” Derek echoes. “Why would they—”
“They think he tried to kill himself, but I know Stiles and he wouldn’t do that to his dad. Besides that, though, he’s gone… catatonic. He’s not really Stiles anymore. I mean, every time I’ve gone to visit, he just sits there, staring into space. He doesn’t recognize me.”
Derek leans back against his car and tries to wrap his head around what Scott’s telling him and he can’t imagine it. “What do his doctors think?”
Scott shrugs. “They think his condition is permanent,” he says, like he’s repeating something verbatim.
“And Deaton?”
“He’s not sure.” He pauses and glances over to where the rest of his pack is waiting for him. “If you want to see him you should talk to his dad. I know he visits, but it’s hard for him.”
Derek can imagine. He says goodbye to Scott after setting up a time to meet during the weekend.
Eichen House is a dreary looking building and Derek feels his hackles rise just entering the front gate. Inside, he’s overwhelmed with scents of the patients’ emotions. A nurse leads him into the day room and takes him over to where Stiles sits in an old upholstered chair next to a window that overlooks the landscaped courtyard. Derek pulls the chair that’s across from him even closer so they’re sitting almost knee to knee. “Stiles?” Tentatively, he reaches out and touches the back of the hand that rests in his lap.
Stiles doesn’t acknowledge him; he continues to stare outside, blinking slowly every couple of moments.
Derek takes Stiles’ hand then, holds it between his own. “Stiles? Can you hear me?”
After a long stretch of minutes, Stiles’ attention still focused beyond the window, one of his fingertips twitches against Derek’s palm.
Derek squeezes Stiles’ hand. “I know you’re still in there. I don’t know what happened, or why you did what you did, but we’ll figure it out.” There’s not much he can do—not right now, at least—so he sits there, holding Stiles’ hand, and tells him about what he’s done since he left, about Cora and South America. He visits daily but keeps his suspicions to himself until he can be certain that the faint twitches of Stiles’ fingers against his palm are more than involuntary spasms.
It takes almost two weeks before he’s convinced enough to tell Scott.
Scott’s skeptical, to say the least, but he comes to Eichen House with Derek, takes the seat next to Stiles—and his hand—when Derek tells him to. Derek sits in a wooden chair right in front of them, touches Stiles’ knee gently. “Hey, Stiles. I brought Scott with me today. Can you tell him hello?” He shifts his gaze from Stiles’ face to Scott’s and waits.
There’s always a hesitation before he responds, and Derek has a theory about that, but his fingers never fail to move. He sees it in Scott’s eyes when he feels the twitch against his own hand. “You think—”
“It’s not random. It’s only when I say hello. Just the once in the whole hour or so we sit together.” Derek gently grips Stiles’ knee. “He’s in there. We’re gonna save him.”
Scott looks from Derek back to Stiles. “If you’ve got a plan, I’m all ears.”
