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Derek groaned as he came back to consciousness slowly. The smell of vanilla and hot rain with just a tinge of vinegar let him know he was in Stiles’s room. So he wasn’t in any immediate danger at least.
His entire body ached in a way he’d never felt before, and then he remembered the Manticore. He remembered shoving Stiles out of the way as the tail swung toward them, remembered the feel of the barbs as they embedded themselves across his chest. He remembered Stiles’s arms catching him as he stumbled back, dragging him away.
It was kind of a blur after that. Stiles getting Derek to the Jeep then taking off like a bat out of hell as he called Deaton. Derek was pretty sure he passed out a couple of times because he remembered Stiles screaming at him to wake up.
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“You do not get to fucking die on me,” Stiles snapped as he took a corner a bit too fast. “That is not a part of the plan. So you need to wake up. Wake up!” he screamed and Derek jerked awake.
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He remembered them making it as far as Stiles’s kitchen before Derek collapsed on the floor, unable to hold his own body weight up any longer. He remembered Stiles running around and grabbing supplies before leaning Derek up against the counters and carefully pulling each of the barbs out of Derek and cleaning the wounds the herbs Deaton told him to use. He couldn’t help feeling there was something he was missing though.
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“I’m so tired of this Derek,” Stiles said as he pulled the second to last barb out. “So unbelievably tired of watching you get hurt. Because of me.”
“Stiles,” Derek gasped but Stiles just ignored him, rubbing the salve into the wound.
“No,” Stiles snapped. “I don’t care if you can heal faster than me. I don’t care that you’re the Alpha and it’s your job. I don’t care.”
“Stiles,” Derek said more firmly, but he was ignored again.
“You getting hurt to save me is never going to be ok,” Stiles talked right over him.
Derek wanted to say that he wasn’t sorry. That he’d keep doing it. He’d do it every single time because watching Stiles get hurt was never going to be ok period. But he didn’t because there were more pressing matters at the moment.
“Stiles,” the Sheriff said from the doorway to the kitchen and Stiles’s head shot up, his eyes widening as he stared at Derek and then down at the mess of blood and salve that was all over the kitchen floor. He gave Derek a look that clearly said, “Why didn’t you warn me!”
Derek just raised an eyebrow, which obviously meant, “I tried.”
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Derek remembered the way the Sheriff stared as Stiles, drenched in Derek’s blood up to his elbows, tried to explain, to excuse. But Derek knew that look. There were no explanations. No excuses. Nothing was going to cut it this time. Nothing except the truth. And when it had come out, Derek remembered yelling.
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“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me,” the Sheriff shook his head. “For years.”
“I haven’t been—“ Stiles realized there was no point in trying to lie anymore and shook his head. “No, you know what? You’re right. I’ve been hiding this from you. But I had a really good reason.”
“And what was that?” The Sheriff scoffed.
“Because I didn’t want you involved!” Stiles screamed.
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It had gone on for a good hour. Derek remembered the Sheriff suggesting at one point that it was time for Derek to leave. And Derek remembered agreeing whole heartedly, if only he could have convinced his body to get up. Stiles had screamed, snapping that Derek wasn’t going anywhere while the toxins were still in his body then dragged him up off the floor and pulled him through the house and up the stairs.
Derek had felt himself starting to drift almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. He’d eventually fallen asleep to more yelling and doors slamming.
He managed to get his body under his control long enough to get out of bed and stumble down the stairs. He walked through the kitchen, noting that someone had cleaned up all the blood. Derek leaned against the counter to catch his breath for a second before moving to the back door. His hand was on the knob when he heard someone come up behind him.
“Leaving so soon?” The Sheriff asked and Derek froze in place.
“I thought it might be for the best,” Derek offered, turning around slowly.
The Sheriff snorted. “It probably would be. Except Stiles would kill me if I let you leave. Sit down.” Derek didn’t move and the Sheriff stepped further into the kitchen. “Sit. Down.” He said and that little part of Derek, the one that had been born a Beta, that had spent 25 years obeying sat down at the kitchen table.
“I’m going to make you breakfast because I’m sure you’re starving.” Derek didn’t want to admit but just the suggestion of food has his mouth practically salivating. “And while you eat, you and I are going to have a very long talk. You’re going to tell me everything and I mean everything because I know there are things that Stiles left out. And when you’re done, then I’ll decide what’s for the best.”
“Yes sir,” Derek said, his voice soft, his head bowed as the Sheriff pulled eggs and butter out of the fridge.
Derek at and talked. He talked more in two hours, sitting across the table from the Sheriff than he had in the past two years. He told him everything. About his family being born wolves, to Kate Argent and the fire, to Peter killing Laura and him killing Peter. Scott getting bitten. The Kanima. Making a pack. Gerard. The Alpha Pack. He told the Sheriff anything and everything he could think off until there was literally nothing left to tell.
“And where does my son fit into all of this?” The Sheriff asked.
“Stiles is…” Derek paused. He’d never really known what to think about Stiles. He had never really wanted to look too deeply into it because he was honestly afraid of what he might find. “There.” Derek finally settled on. “He’s always there. Even when I don’t want him to be. Especially when I don’t want him to be. He’s there for absolutely no reason. He’s there whenever there’s trouble, right smack in the middle of it. He’s there for Scott no matter how many times Scott ditches him for Allison or Isaac. He’s there with an answer, sometimes before I even know what the question is. He’s there saving my life, over and over again. He’s there at my back. He’s there when no else is. He’s just…there.”
“Funny,” The Sheriff shook his head. “That’s exactly what he said about you.”