Home, Sweet Home – part 2

Man, maybe the beers were starting to kick in. It's been a while since Stiles drank, but if he wanted to be completely honest with himself, he needed some kind of a crutch to keep himself from starting to overthink things immediately. He can do that later once he's alone. Which will be a bit more difficult now that the house was quite full. He liked that thought, though.

He remembered the long evenings while his dad was working and he was left alone in the house once he was big enough and for some reason couldn't go to Scott. Those nights the house felt so huge and empty to him. So silent and cold that he had to always come up with something to distract his always running mind before he could fall asleep.

And although he knew this was temporary, it still managed to put a small smile on his face. He understood Derek's need for a pack, a family, better now after all those years. He had a... much more troubled and tragic past. Some peace of mind, warmth and love were nothing special as far as personal needs went. Even if it was hard to come by these in Beacon Hills...

"So... obviously you haven't given up on that understandable dream and started your family on your own. You know..." he lowered his voice as he was leaning against the fridge with a shoulder, slender fingers scratching the label on his second bottle as if a bit embarrassed, the lightest blush coloring his previously so pale cheeks. "I really do hope that it'll work out well for you this time. I think you deserve that... after everything. Even if you were an ass for disappearing on us so suddenly. We were worried, you know..."

Oh man, the beers definitely must have kicked in...

"Soooo... a hybrid, huh? Does she do the... screaming and shock-wave part too? Can she change? Does she have sharp teeth and little claws? And what's she picking up on? Premonitions? Feelings? Dreams?" he asked while pushing himself away from the fridge to take his usual seat opposite the other man, drinking in the familiar sharp features and colors of his face. And once more the new slight changes. Like always when he didn't want to answer a question, Derek simply ignored it as if Stiles never asked it. Sometimes it drove Stiles up the walls and left him with trying to piece the information together. Like now.

Yep, the moment the older Stilinski was out of the room, Stiles' eyes were leveled on him with that razor sharp attention, something most researchers would be envious about. Often it felt like the younger man could lift up his skin and scratch straight at his soul just by looking and observing, because he saw too much and remembered even more. It was one of the reasons why Derek always felt like he couldn't be around Stiles for too long, because he could get to him in ways others couldn't. He'd know too much and that? That was a dangerous thing.

As dangerous as it was to notice the slight flush on the pale cheeks, making the man look more alive, more appealing, if that was possible. Looked like the beer was working well and he was still a lightweight after all these years despite growing taller and filling out more. Typical Stiles. In a world ever-changing, it was kind of nice to know some things didn't change at all. He snorted at it, and the fact Stiles said he hoped it would work out for him to have a family. He had already messed up her life and she wasn't even capable of stringing along full sentences. Then again, Derek wasn't known for those either so that might also be his doing.

"I had to, I was a wanted man by the FBI." It hadn't taken that long for Rafe McCall to clear it all up, a couple of months at the most but by then, he had already stopped looking back. Scott had his pack, he had Chris Argent and Peter to help him besides that and Derek hadn't been so sure Kate Argent had been dead after killing Gerard. It was safer for all involved if he had moved on. "There was Kate, hunters....." The usual Derek Hale fuckery. He hadn't enjoyed it, it had been something that had to happen.

Clearing his throat because yeah, Kate Argent wasn't something he wanted to talk about, he sipped from the beer, picking questions to answer without answering the ones Stiles wanted to hear about. Talking about Elizabeth was safe, it was relatively harmless. If he was careful enough.

"She screams, a lot, high pitched screeches which aren't suited for werewolf hearing." Aka his eardrums had exploded a few times unfortunately. "She dreams but she's too young to explain it. She’s terrified then, and she picks up on my emotions and moods flawlessly. She doesn't have beta shift yet, she's too young for it. Born wolves aren't capable of that when a baby, to protect the mother." Or there would be alien like situations and that would kill mother and child both. "She's had one premonition. But I'm still waiting to drop dead." Yes, that had been a joke, Derek Hale could joke. They were mostly dad jokes but there was humor there.

Stiles snorted a bit amused from that joke. Yes, it was one morbid one, but Stiles always loved and appreciated morbid things and also sarcasm. He was familiar with sarcasm the most. He even enjoyed it a lot. Just like when Derek Hale sometimes decided to let him get a glimpse of that side of him too. It was rare, but that made it even more special to the now all of a sudden nostalgic Stiles.

The slight blush stayed on his cheeks, now from the beers too as a nice mild buzz started in his racing mind, lulling him into a comfortable feeling of companionship as they were sitting there talking. Like adults. Not like in the past when Stiles did most of the talking (okay, that was usually still the case), often trying to prove that he was not some snotty teen, but someone who should be actually taken seriously.

Now he was a grown man with a respectful and challenging job as a detective. Fighting crime, trying to make the world a better place to live in both for humans and the supernatural. Finding that outlet after moving away from Beacon Hills where he was always just the boy with the big mouth and risky ideas without any supernatural powers, it made him calm down a bit. Finding his calling obviously did good for him. He did struggle less and was more confident, although he too still had his shadows to fight with. Like coming into terms with his possession and killing people during it. He still had nightmares about that and other bloody cases he had to work on as a detective since then.

But now... now as he was sitting there opposite Derek, studying his familiar face and movements, he felt... calmer. His being – both mentally and physically – more relaxed somehow. Despite Derek's occasional bad decisions and tendency to disappear time after time, Stiles had learned to enjoy his company. To even long for it.

"Then you have your hands full with the little missy. But I didn't expect less from a child who's part Lydia..." Stiles hummed, storing and already analyzing the information Derek was giving him about his daughter. He was looking forward seeing the two together. He wanted that picture imprinted in his brain for some reason. He had the suspicion that he would melt on the spot from seeing Derek Hale with his daughter. Damn, he was curious about her now even more! But he had to be patient, he knew. Not his strong forte, but at the police he had learned that barging into situations head first often had a hefty price.

"Okay, I get it, you had to be on the run for a while before we saved your ass with Scott's dad. But will you ever talk about the reason why you look so shitty now? Why you had to heal cooped up in my room?" he asked with a sudden change of the subject, which wasn't uncommon when it came to Stiles.

The familiar warmth spreading when he made Stiles snort in amusement, made him scold himself inwardly. Even after all this time, it made him feel pleased and accomplished when the human enjoyed his sense of humor. Not everybody enjoyed being subjected to the snarky scathing and often dry remarks, but the people he had chosen to surround himself with, seemed to be okay with it.

Amusement faded quickly though when the other decided to go in for the kill, and outright asked about what happened. Blunt, to the point. Normally Derek would have been proud of it but since he was the one dealing with it at the moment, pride wasn't the emotion he was feeling. Stiffening in the uncomfortable chair, his green eyes stared at the empty beer bottle, wishing it worked on him. This was why Noah had made himself scarce, knowing full well his son was going to ask, maybe even hoping Derek would open up about it. Though he should know better, Derek was a vault dropped at the bottom of the deepest ocean.

He could avoid it, he could refuse to answer, he could leave. It wasn't as if Stiles had any right to know, it wasn't as if demanding answers would mean he'd be getting them. But Derek was tired of running, tired of dealing with the human's feelings of utter disappointment if he would be shut out. Tired of hurting others. So he pushed the bottle away and leaned back with a sigh.

"I've been in Hell for a long time, me and my daughter. I kept her safe by feeding her my energy even though she still aged some. I took the torture and did what I had to do, for her. I've sold half of my soul to get out and even a werewolf body needs time to heal from that. At first I've only slept, my healing wasn't working. I didn't know what was real, like I was still caught between dimensions. It's why I didn't want others to know. I needed time."

Frankly, Stiles half-expected Derek not to say anything. Every non-verbal sign – like the clenching of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes and the tensing of his shoulders – told him that like so many times, he wouldn't budge, just continue staring back at him with one of his trade mark brooding looks. So the younger man's brows started to climb up on his forehead the second he saw said muscles starting to relax a bit as if giving in.

What he heard took him completely off-guard again. It seemed Derek had developed this ability during the past years...

"Wait... what? Hell? I'm assuming not Hell in Michigan or Norway..." Stiles' eyes widened into big brown saucers before he began rapidly blinking, a bit in shock, trying to quickly determine if Derek was pulling his leg or not. But his instincts and the way he looked back at him told him he wasn't joking this time. "So... that place truly exists?" Stiles swallowed hard, trying to wrap his over-working mind around that. And why wouldn't it? After all, werewolves and chimeras and all kinds of creatures existed. He had accepted that fairly quickly. Other dimensions and hellhounds – those had to come from somewhere, right? – were things he was familiar with by then.

"Okay... okay.... But... how did you end up there in the first place? Why was your daughter with you? And... what does it mean selling half of your soul? What does that entail? How is that possible? And how does it make you feel? I mean... if that's the case then you're now missing half of your soul... It has to affect you somehow, no?" the questions tumbled out of his fast-talking mouth, the shock making Stiles fall back into old habits. Suddenly he felt himself like that hyperactive teen and it took some effort from himself to shut his mouth and cut off the long lines of questions and thoughts that wanted to flow out of him.

There hadn't been an answer expected, Derek could have gotten away with it if he had steamrolled with his trademark glare until wearing the other down. Unfortunately, it would have meant he would have gotten away with it for now, for tonight. The questions were going to come again, especially now that there wasn't a Peter to harass for answers or a Scott, because the former wasn't here and the latter had no clue. Still, the surprise on Stiles made him regret saying it all.

Lydia and Scott had acted as if it had been no big deal at all, because the two of them were whole and relatively healthy, no long-term bodily damage done. It had been offensive and damaging, had made him feel like the age old thoughts of not being important enough were true. Just Derek who went to Hell, shit happened. So he had avoided them, letting Lydia take their daughter when she wanted to and lied about how he was doing, because all they wanted to hear was fine. Stiles reacted differently, of course he did. He was full of questions, needing more to form an opinion on what it meant.

"Hell is just another dimension, like the one you have been stuck in." Derek wondered how Stiles would react to learning there's more than one Hell, that there's such a thing as angels and demons. Maybe someday he'd learn about all that, if he asked. He wasn't sure how to talk about the rest. Half of him was gone, there was an emptiness inside, an aching need which was never going to be filled again. It made him even blunter, more of an asshole. He had bouts of anger or where he was cold.

"My grandfather is running that Hell dimension and he took Elizabeth to make sure I'd come with him. He wanted to groom me and he didn't like hearing no." Which meant Derek hadn't deserved to be in Hell, he had been a good person who had been forced to deal with bad events in his life over and over. Fighting hard always to survive, to not turn to the dark side. Truth was though, he was broken and this hadn't done him any good either. Shifting in his seat a little, there was a tired shrug. "I don't know how it affects me, I was dealing with other things. There's a... wrongness, but I'll get used to it." His tone suggested any more soul talk wasn't appreciated right now.

The dimension being mentioned where Stiles had been stuck in made him tense up a bit and he didn't allow himself to think about it. It was still a nightmare-inducing experience and he didn't wish to rehash it, thank you very much. He slept little on a good day too, no need to make it worse with those memories. Instead he focused on examining Derek. It was always an effective coping mechanism of his. Putting others and their needs in front of himself. Not the healthiest way to cope, but it was easier for Stiles. Even now when he was somewhat more mature and perhaps wiser.

Without knowing how their friends reacted to the news of Derek literally going to Hell and back, his eyes showed sympathy and understanding. Not pity. He knew Derek Hale was too proud for that. He needed no one's pity. And Stiles wouldn't be one of those people who would react with that to the shocking news. He also didn't doubt any of it. He just... knew Derek was telling the truth. Stiles also appreciated this rare moment of openness. It showed him how vulnerable and broken Derek really was. And... frankly... it hurt Stiles to see him like this. More than he would've thought.

Perhaps the intensity of wanting to help and protect Derek made him stop with further questions. Or the look in the other man's eyes. So he let silence fall on them, giving time mostly for Derek to pull himself together and for himself to process all this. Unsurprisingly, his mind was already trying to map out the possible solutions. Thinking, always thinking about how to help others. That's just how the younger Stilinski was wired. In this regard so similar to his father.

He saw that Derek was far from fine. And he had decided that it had to change.

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly. This wasn't how he had imagined his extended vacation back in Beacon Hills, but he did expect some bumps on the road. After all, we were talking about Beacon Hills. The hot bed of bumps on the road...

"Alright... alright... We're gonna figure this out. I'll help you get back the missing part of your soul, Derek," he stated on a tone that allowed no objections. Just like when he placed dibs on sleeping on the living room couch. Even if this situation was a tiiiiny bit more serious.

"You've gotten even bossier."

Stiles took the couch and hadn't wanted to be persuaded otherwise and now he was stating he was going to help in a tone which wasn't going to stand for objections. The human had always been bossy, but in an insecure kind of way. He’d push and shove to get his point across, usually accompanied by a lot of flailing. And now? Now he had a confidence to him, he didn't needle to get his way, he demanded it with his facial expression, tone of voice and body language. Derek hadn't been planning on objecting to it anyways because Stiles was good at research. He wasn't exactly sure if this was something they could figure out but he was all for trying it at least.

He stared, waiting for more to come. Comments about how the Hale was literally related to the devil. Or how he needed to go to Hell to get a sense of humor. Maybe even the dreaded pity even though he wasn't sure he could take that coming from Stiles. The human had always been his safe haven, his anchor and pity was... not what he wanted to see in those brown eyes. It didn't come. It just didn't come at all.

Good old Stiles. It made him smile, amused and sad at the same time because why did it always have to be the younger man? Always the one to understand, in Derek's corner when there was nobody left. Literally this time. It made his throat ache, the emotions gathering once again as he attempted to swallow them. Derek was aware how raw and open he must seem to his friend right now but it mostly felt like he had stepped into a ravine and there was no turning back from that.

To have somebody wanting to have his back, to not drop him like he was damaged goods, to have somebody at all besides Noah and Melissa and his daughter was... overwhelming. The three years in Hell he had been on his own and now somebody was trying to get him, help him. "Okay," he managed to say without his voice breaking.

Stiles – to be honest to himself – expected at least a little resistance on Derek's side, but the fact that he got none just told him how serious the situation was. How desperate Derek really might be for help. That reassured the younger man that this was the right decision. One just had to look at Derek to see how... broken he was. Or maybe it was just Stiles whose eyes always saw more than anyone when it came to Derek Hale. He instinctively saw behind the stoic, often statue-like facade. How he usually hid his pain behind his poker face or the acts of his surfacing wolf-side. Aside from the very beginning when he didn't know Derek yet, he never feared him like many did.

There was something about this man that stayed with Stiles even after his disappearances and him moving away from Beacon Hills. Something that always made Stiles circle back to him. Perhaps that's why he couldn't commit to any relationship in his past. Be it with men or women. They just... lacked that something. And the fact that Derek now had a daughter didn't change anything in Stiles' eyes, he realized.

"Oh you always secretly liked my bossiness..." Stiles slightly nodded with a small satisfied smile, his eyes dropping for a second as he felt his cheeks lightly warming up again. That was flirting right there. Why was he flirting with Derek all of a sudden? He shouldn't be flirting now, right? This is about helping him, for god's sake, he bit the inside of his bottom lip. But then he looked right back into the still mostly open green eyes. "I'm glad you accepted. Though... you should expect a lot more questions, but for now I let you off the hook," he chuckled and drank from his beer instead.

It was getting late by then indeed. Past midnight, but Stiles wasn't planning on going to sleep any time soon. He was already thinking about pulling out his laptop from his duffel bag to start researching the soul topic on the couch. He also saw that the man needed some more rest and probably to check on his daughter.

So he finished his beer and got up to take Derek's empty bottle too. He put them in the trash then got himself a bottle of mineral water from the fridge before putting a slice of leftover pizza on a plate. With his back to Derek, he paused by the kitchen counter.

"Hey Derek..." he said on a softer tone, hesitating only for a moment. "I'm glad you came back and that you're here," he added barely audible, although he knew the wolf would hear it. Not knowing how the other man would take this confession, Stiles found himself holding his breath back, not turning around just yet.

"Not that secretly." At least, he didn't think he had been mysterious about his like of the human. Always protecting him, bickering and challenging him to think with snappish comments. He had even stopped throwing him against hard surfaces. Peter had often teased him about going soft on the boy and Isaac had known but he had wisely not said anything, just had wrinkled his nose in distaste at Derek. It was a good thing neither wolf was here at the moment, he didn't want them judging him.

Stiles wasn't going to get answers to all his questions, Derek would point it out but they both knew it wasn't happening. Some things he wasn't ready for to talk about, some things he probably never was going to talk about at all. He had gotten to mention his family members sometimes, and the fire was over a decade ago. Some traumas ran too deep, needed time to be tentatively mentioned. Cora didn't seem to understand that, she often talked about life before the fire and he growled still, would go quiet around her or walk off. She didn't even know about Kate, and he didn't want her to know.

The human moved to busy himself and Derek watched him quietly, rubbing at his eyes. The only way for him to sleep now was to tire himself out. Which wasn't as easy as it seemed because exhaustion didn't mean tired enough to shut the mind off and he wasn't so keen on sleeping now with the chance of night terrors. Stiles would know how he wasn't dealing at all with everything. At the soft mention of his name, he looked up to stare at the younger man's back. His eyes softened even though Stiles couldn't see it. "Me too."

Of course, he knew Stiles had hated him always leaving, he understood the need for it but felt also hurt by it. It was why Derek never had done goodbyes, looking back had meant he wouldn't be able to go. "I'm not going away anymore." He was done running. There was nothing to run to, and it hadn't made life easier, only lonelier.

A secret smile tugged at Stiles' lips from Derek's first comment. Yes, it wasn't really a secret. It also brought back a lot of fond memories to the young man. All the good-natured bickering, the way he tried to talk Derek out or into things in the face of danger. Yes, fond memories for Stiles which he secretly treasured. Only admitting that to himself. There were things he never talked about with anyone and he was more than sure that Derek had and will always have his own secrets too. Which was... normal in Stiles' opinion. Though it didn't mean that he wouldn't try to extract as much information from his friend as possible in order to look for more specific clues and hints during his research.

What he said next, though, abruptly stopped his mind and he finally exhaled. Was he still tipsy and misheard it? That promise... It made him turn around to lean against the counter, his slender hands resting on its edge by his hips. That promise... the way Derek said it had weight. A finality. And it made Stiles' heart skip a beat again. Man, if he really stays, he's gonna have to get used to an irregular heartbeat, it seemed...

"You mean it," he said nearly in awe and once he truly believed it, he couldn't help himself and gave the softest and most relieved smile Derek could ever see on his face. He couldn't hold it back. Not when they were finally talking so openly. Maybe later he will regret it, but not now. Not when his friend was in such a state. "I'm happy you finally realized that running doesn't solve much," he said, but the sarcasm was missing and he sounded like someone who was talking from experience too.

It was true. Taking a longer break from his hometown to recover, to learn new things, to better himself... all those were helpful for Stiles to become a useful and resourceful man. But it never filled the void in his heart.

There it was again, that little blip in the heartbeat when Stiles wasn't talking even. No lies to detect, at least he was still taking the medication for ADD. Maybe he'd finally learn to take it as prescribed instead of using it as a way to remain awake forever. That soft smile did it though, the relief was palpable. He didn't even need to be a werewolf to see it and it made him have that familiar stab of guilt. Sure, Stiles had not once said he hated Derek leaving, not with so many words. So to see him be so happy with this was, a relief and a guilt trip at the same time.

It was going to be Stiles leaving again. He was a detective in another city while Derek was going to have to find a way to build his life here in Beacon Hills. That seemed to be the best for his daughter, and there was Cora needing his help with her baby on the way. It was good to have a solid base, it was where he had grown up, and he wanted the same for Elizabeth.

"The problems only ran with me. It doesn't matter where I am." The plan had been to live with the boyfriend eventually, somewhere. Since there was no boyfriend, Beacon Hills was a good place to start because he had to start somewhere. And he had realized he had the tendency to move where others expected him to go. New York because Laura had wanted to, Beacon Hills because of Peter, South America because of Cora, traveling around with Braeden, DC because of... yeah, he didn't want to go there. He had started to see the pattern and knew he had to do something for himself for a change.

"I picked Beacon Hills for me. Because I want Elizabeth to grow up here. And you can come visit." The last part he added to it out of spite, because Stiles smiled at him so softly and he was going to leave.

And he was reading way too much into it. Stiles wasn't going to visit because of him, he'd visit his dad.

"Took you long enough to realize that," Stiles chuckled a bit sarcastically at Derek's realization but there was no biting edge to it. He himself didn't need that much time to realize he cannot outrun his problems. They would always catch up with him sooner or later. It was an important life-lesson. Something that has fundamentally changed his look at the world. Most of the time he went head on to solve such problems. Only those remained for which he thought he wasn't strong enough to fully face yet. Like his time being possessed by the Nogitsune (though he was trying to work on that still). Or his... feelings for Derek. Which were definitely there, he confirmed it for himself once more as he was watching the sitting man.

A light frown appeared on the detective's forehead from his last sentence. The slight spite in it. Stiles didn't understand why Derek felt the need to say it that way. But it stung him a bit. After all these years this man was still a mystery to Stiles. A very, very hard nut to crack. Each time he thought he had figured Derek Hale out, he did or said something that made him take that back. He wondered if he would ever fully understand the brooding man. At times he very much doubted it. But perhaps that was a part of his charm. The thing that has always been drawing his weak human self toward the 'big bad wolf'. Not once in this story he felt himself like Little Red Riding Hood skipping through the dark forest, but instead of heading towards the relative safety of the grandmother's house, he would skip right towards the wolf den to poke at the beast he wasn't supposed to poke. He was a cute beast, so who could blame him, right?

Stiles' previous soft smile slowly disappeared from his face. "It's good to see that you finally picked something for yourself and your daughter," he said maybe a bit proudly, but then he paused for a split second. "And I could visit. If you want me to. Do you want me to?" he asked at the end unsure and a bit confused from the biting tone the wolf used previously. Maybe he was just too sensitive from the beers and the late hour. He knew he would visit either way now that he knew Derek Hale was finally staying in this town. But he wanted Derek to want him to visit. He's gotten used to the feeling of his presence not being wanted around because of how he used to be and what he is now, but he knew he wouldn't be able to bear that from this man.

To hide his worried and vulnerable look, he instead bit into the cold pizza slice just to do something. He wasn't really hungry, but he had to eat if he wanted to be able to stay up for a few more hours to do a general research as a first step. He could dig deeper in the following days.

"Took me long enough? Says the one who firmly believes it works to ignore a problem until it goes away." To be fair, Derek was also six years older than Stiles so he took a while longer to figure things out. And he felt like he still hadn't figured anything out because he was as much floundering and surviving as he had done at 18 and 22 and.....yeah, that's been pretty much all he knew. One day at a time because the next one was going to take everything away anyways. At least his time in Hell had taught him to appreciate what he had, even when it wasn't much.

And to be honest, he hadn't picked much, now that he was 'healed' physically, he could start working on making the loft suitable for a child to live in. Cora could move in until he had made her an apartment in the building for her and her little one. There was an attempt at drawing Theo in, because Derek saw himself in the broken Chimera and wanted better things for him, wanted to offer a hand when none had done that to Derek at his age. So yeah, he picked for himself, there was a struggling basis of a plan to hint at a future. The idea of a pack building, many other ideas included in it as well to further the Hale legacy his mother had been trying to build as an alpha. To guide others as she had once done.

Did he want Stiles to come visit? Does he ever? Even now, when the human had cold tomato sauce on his chin while he was chewing on old pizza with an open mouth and... Oh… Shit. They had forgotten about the leftovers in the fridge. Busted! "Why wouldn't I want you to?"

There was an insulted tone to his voice because he didn't understand why Stiles thought he wouldn't be welcomed at Derek's. The Stilinskis were friends, extended family. He wouldn't turn them away, years ago the loft had always been open for pack business. Stiles had stormed in at the most inopportune moments, probably still had the key to the door downstairs because he had never had the big loft door locked. And it wasn't that he had given a key, Stiles somehow always magically acquired keys without asking. "Of course I want you to visit."

With the half-eaten slice of pizza hanging from his mouth, Stiles reached to open the water bottle then chewed on another bite, never taking his eyes off Derek. "Hey! That was the old me. Now I know well that the problems won't go away until you grab them by the balls and solve them yourself," he shrugged after swallowing and drank a sip too. "I doubt my cases would've solved themselves with that old belief still in place in me, you know," he added and stuffed the last bites in his mouth, making his cheeks bulge like a chipmunk's.

Maybe it was also a way to shut himself up before he would say something stupid that he would regret later. Because his silly heart began fluttering in his chest again. Hopefully. Such a stupid, stupid heart, right? But it indeed filled him with warmth to know that Derek wanted him around. Even if just occasionally.

Winning over the last mouthful of food, he washed it down with some more water and sucked some sauce off his fingers before wiping his face clean with a napkin. "Good. I would've visited anyway. I just thought... I don't know. It's been years. We kinda drifted apart and I just... But I'm gonna continue brightening your days with my presence!" he grinned then tossed the used napkin into the trash. There was also a small secret smile there under his nose. Mostly for himself. Being wanted always felt good. Thanks to the years living alone and experiencing things, he believed he understood that better too. Saw why Derek came back and started a pack. Now a small family. Stiles couldn't blame him. He just wondered if he, himself would ever get that one day. But he was rooting for Derek from the bottom of his heart. If anyone, then this poor guy deserved some happiness in his life.

"Alright, big guy... Coffee or bed?" he suddenly asked with a raised brow.

Derek honestly doubted Stiles had that changed belief when it came to his own problems. It was one thing to tackle a case as a detective, but it was another to deal with personal changes and emotions. He suddenly realized he had no idea if there was anybody special for the human, what the past years had been for him so there were some questions of his own to ask these coming weeks. It wasn't as if they didn't have the time for it. Noah had work so it was going to be the three of them often, him with Stiles and Elizabeth. And he kinda wished Stiles would grab him by the balls but yeah, he wasn't saying that out loud.

The heart was doing that rapid beating again. It was soothing in a way because if it stopped doing that, something would be terribly wrong. Watching Stiles stuff the last pizza in his mouth, and that didn't help because clearly Stiles could fit A LOT in his mouth and that was taking his mind to places it hadn't been in for years. But of course, the moment he was around Stiles, it had to betray him like that, just like his body. Derek had just gotten out of Hell, and out of a relationship, he shouldn't even be willing to go there. And yet he was.

"I'll continue grumping up yours with mine." Though the Hale was sure that after spending two weeks with Stiles in one house, he was going to be the same old lovesick idiot he had been years ago. Some crushes weren't crushes at all. "I'll go to bed, I'm sure you have a list of questions for me to answer in the morning and Beth is up early, demanding attention. So be prepared for not getting to sleep in."

Derek was sure he wasn't going to get much sleep, he was going to be awake for a while, listening to that heartbeat downstairs while pondering over the human. And then in the early hours there was going to be a squealing banshee demanding to be let out of her crib so she could waddle around with the big diaper. Potty training was next on the list of 'Big steps for Beth to take'. Standing up, he lingered a little awkwardly, not sure what to say or do. "Good night, Stiles."

"Good! Then the balance of the Universe will be restored and you can bet on that list! I also wasn't planning on sleeping in," Stiles beamed at Derek from the counter then watched him stand. He didn't want him to go, but he could see that the other man could use some rest and he had a lot of digging to do. For which his fingers were already kinda itching, his mind restless like usual. Still... being in one room with Derek again was somehow both unnerving and soothing to him. He missed his presence and silent looks. The brooding expression. The grunts and short replies. It was as if a missing piece all of a sudden dropped back into his life. Making it less empty.

"Enjoy my bed, you usurper," he told Derek's broad back with some laughter in his voice, but right after that he had to swallow hard from that image, his cheeks heating up once again. It was back with full force and he had to take a deep breath and exhale slowly to somewhat calm his racing heart. He reminded himself that Derek could hear it.

"The sun, the moon, the truth..." he mumbled absentmindedly and grabbed his water to finally move towards the living room to make his bed and fire up his laptop and fish out a notebook and pen from his bag too. As he tossed his leather jacket on the back of the couch and kicked his shoes off, he had to admit to himself that being around Derek like this was going to be... challenging, to say the least.

One long-ish and quite open soul-searching conversation in the kitchen was enough for Stiles' emotions to get stirred up again. For millions of questions to be born in his head. To start wondering again if Derek would ever look at him like that. If there was a sliver of chance for them. Stiles only saw him with women, so he wasn't even sure if Derek was swinging this way too. Or what he would think about Stiles' inappropriate feelings, thoughts and fantasies if they ever came to light.

As he settled back onto the couch, opening up his browser, he thanked the Universe that werewolves usually didn't have telepathy to read human minds. Because he would be in trouble. He was already in deep trouble... again. But this... this was still better than going home to an empty apartment without anyone who cared waiting for him.

Taking another deep breath, he put his pen in his mouth, slender fingers quickly typing in words to the search field. Occupying his mind with their task at hand was going to help push these thoughts back. For now. He will have time to pine over Derek Hale in the morning too.

So he did just that. He continued researching the soul topic for hours. Saving down texts, jotting down several pages long notes, narrowing down the vast source material and trying to map out possible connection points. He put his laptop aside around dawn, only when his eyes were burning too much and he started seeing double.

Then he dreamed of Beacon Hills, green eyes, fire and soulmates.

SPARK

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