Note: This is the 9th part of the “Home Is Where the Spark Is” series. To understand better what’s going on, we recommend reading the previous entries. Enjoy!

Fandoms: Teen Wolf, Sterek

Characters/relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale

Rating/category: R (explicit), supernatural, post-Teen Wolf, canon and non-canon elements, slash, M/M, Sterek, hurt/comfort, dark, angst, aged up characters, Spark Stiles, Magic Stiles, Emissary Stiles, Emissary in training Stiles, detective Stiles, matured Stiles, Alpha Derek, switch Derek, switch Stiles, drama, epic romance, love, magic, smut, soulmates, Mate bond, Emissary bond, werewolves, PTSD, trauma, miscommunication

Summary: The aftermath of Derek’s heat cycle puts a stress on the mates’ relationship as they try to deal with it.

Disclaimer: This is a product of our imagination and was written only for entertainment and fun. We don’t profit from this fanfiction and we mean no harm or disrespect against any real person, culture or custom that might appear in the story. All original pictures and fictional characters used in the story belong to their respective owners and credit goes to them.

Just Jim edit

Home Is Where the Spark Is
By Just Jim & Useless-girl

9: Beast Within

The days after the rut are somewhat peaceful. Not as Derek would have liked it, though, because the tension they had worked so hard on getting rid of before that week was back. It wasn’t the same kind of tension where Stiles had been wondering what to expect while Derek had been making sure his mate knew he hadn’t been okay with going through the rut together. No, this was the aftermath of that. It was an ‘I told you so’. Because that’s what the Hale had been on about, that’s why he hadn’t been wanting it the way it had unfolded. The danger had been real and Stiles had found out first hand.

The human had met the beast inside of Derek and wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Not that it had been him, not exactly, not even at all. That man had been the result of years of torture, years of uncontrolled ruts, years of need and want and always being left alone in this depression kind of loneliness. Abandonment. That’s what it had been and it had made the rut ruthless. He hadn’t remembered it much, only bits and pieces were coming to him, mostly when he slept, or the times where he was watching Stiles sleep. The human was sleeping a lot. He also looked like he needed it so nobody dared to stop him. He may have healed physically but mentally he wasn’t ready yet. Which showed in his reluctance to talk about it, to even want to kiss because it might lead to more. Or so he thought because Derek didn’t want more.

Feeling the pain his mate had been in when he had borrowed the healing had made Derek very reluctant to have sex. He not once had tried to initiate it even. Sure, it had been all consensual but with all the injuries, with the struggle Stiles had, it made him feel like he had done something unforgivable. Like even his touches would soil his mate even more even though they both desperately needed contact – the way they would cling to one another when they did sleep in the same bed only proved that.

Derek had recovered within two days. All he had really needed was sleep and sustenance, and to let his body purge the small amounts of wolfsbane the potions had contained to make him sleep. After that they had gone back to the Stilinski house, back to the daughter and pup and a very relieved Noah who was more than glad to have his grandkid back to the attention of her two dads. Of course the old man loved her dearly but she was a handful and Derek knew it. The Hale was happy to have her back as well so while Stiles slept, he cuddled his daughter and played with her, they went outside with the dog to get some fresh air. He cooked and tried to get things back to normal. Only it wasn’t normal.

Stiles could feel that too. Things were... off between them and it was mostly because of him. He wasn't able to talk about that week to Derek just yet, but he knew they will have to eventually do so. Stiles was reprimanding himself time after time when he lost his patience for himself. He knew, he needed time to fully recover and have patience for himself to mentally process it, but it wasn't easy. He felt frustrated for not being able to deal faster because there was that tension back and he hated it. He wanted it gone. He wanted everything to go back like how it was before the rut. But there were darker moments when he doubted that could ever happen. Too much had happened and they both could feel that.

Next to frustration he just still felt exhausted so he kinda fled into sleep to help his recovery (and to avoid dealing with all this). It was so much easier to just sleep, hidden under the warm covers than looking into his mate's disappointed eyes whenever Stiles broke a gentle kiss and shied away from the possibility of more.

It wasn't like him. He was stronger than this! He should be able to tackle this and move on with their lives. There were more pressing matters at hand. Like getting Derek's missing soul back. Or practice and read and learn and be with Beth and his dad. Instead, he was hiding away in his room, dozing or sleeping for real. Because when he thought of doing more than some chaste kissing, he saw a flash of the out of control red eyes, felt the phantom pain of the scratch on his lower back. It was all so fucking silly, because he was going to wear the mark of that feral beast on his nape for the rest of his life.

Okay, that was kinda unfair, because it was Derek's mark. He was one with the beast, even if not with this mindless tortured one. Yes, Stiles understood that Hell had done this to Derek and knew that it was very difficult to help on that. But realizing just how much left a bitterness in his mouth which he couldn't shake off for days. Maybe Derek was right and Stiles wasn't going to be strong enough for this after all.

Maybe he should just stay here forever under the blankets that smelled like them. It was comforting and more alluring than the smells of dinner from downstairs.

Relationships were a curse, something Derek had found out a long time ago and should have kept a firm dislike of. However, he had kept falling for the same trap, because deep down he had wanted this connection, he had felt lonely and wanted a family of his own. His track record wasn't a good one. Like an abused person, he constantly fell for the wrong ones who would use him. With Stiles it was supposed to be different. Stiles had insisted they'd be good together when Derek had said he'd only destroy him. The human had been stubborn and now he was without a job, without an apartment, holed up in his childhood home to avoid Derek.

"You have to talk to him, Derek. I don't know what happened between the two of you, but this heat thing broke something," Noah had told him when Derek had been feeding dinner to Beth and Stiles' chair had been achingly empty again.

"I broke him, that's what happened."

There was no fixing it if his mate didn't want it to be fixed. Their bond, it was too fresh to allow for much distance but Derek moving to the loft might not be too far. It would give Stiles the chance to get out of bed, roam the house, interact with his dad instead of hiding away.

"I warned him and he didn't listen. I should have... This is my fault." He should have been firm in his no, shouldn't have allowed for this to happen. His hand trembled when he lifted another spoon full for his daughter, so all the food fell down and it made her giggle, thankfully unaware of what was going on.

"I doubt that's what is..."

"He sees me as a monster. I'm plaguing his dreams, it's all he sees when he looks at me. You were there for me when I returned from Hell, he wasn't. He underestimated it and now..." Now Stiles was in bed all the time, scared of the one he had vowed to pledge his life to. They had a bond and if Derek didn't have a child, he'd allow for it to be broken. His daughter needed him, though, so he couldn't forfeit on his life yet. They were stuck with this bond until Elizabeth was old enough to be on her own.

When she was done eating, he let her go to watch TV with Noah, heating a plate for Stiles in the microwave. He quietly went up the stairs, planning to set the tray inside of the room without Stiles noticing him. He'd smell the food and maybe want to eat something. And Derek wanted to get a pillow, so he could sleep on the couch.

Stiles was completely cocooned into the nest of the covers, only his messy hair sticking out. He often used to hide like this to feel safe after his mom had died and he was left alone in the house while Noah had to work. He wasn't sleeping now although his eyes were closed in the blissful darkness. His mind was restless and full of thoughts, though. His back was towards the door, the other side of the bed achingly empty next to him. Where Derek should be lying, holding him securely. A part of him wanted that, the other part only sunk deeper into the cocoon from that idea.

But he needed his mate. Not just for the magic or the bonds. He truly loved Derek, even if he still didn't say it out loud. He missed him and wanted to be able to be with him again. He missed his gentle touches and kisses and Stiles forced himself to focus on those feelings and push the violent images aside. They were bubbling up, crowding his mind as if there was a dam they had to break through to leave him alone. Maybe that was the case. Maybe it was Stiles' mind to signal that it was time for him to talk these things out. Like after the possession of the dark fox spirit. From all of the people, Kira's mom was the one to whom he had managed to open up for the first time since she knew exactly who Void was and what he could do. She was a woman Stiles could never completely read. Probably because of the elusive kitsune nature. But her silent attention and understanding look were the first real steps for Stiles to start recovering. And now? Now Derek was the only one who could help him fix himself and them. He wanted that. He needed that. He needed his mate.

Despite the fact that Derek was able to move around noiselessly, Stiles knew that he was coming upstairs. He knew the sounds of this house like the back of his hand and also there were the bonds which he felt as if they were... throbbing and straining between them, wanting to pull them together despite the stubbornness in both men.

The light creak of his opening door gave Derek away and Stiles could hear the soft clinking of cutlery on a tray. Dinner. His stomach disagreed vehemently with the idea, but he ignored that and listened to the soft noises as Derek moved around. By then his head was out of the cocoon and just when he felt some movement around the bed (not knowing that Derek was about to take his pillow), he finally talked.

"Stay," he whispered on the raspy voice of too much sleep and too little talking for days.

The heartbeat had changed so Derek knew Stiles was awake, but he fully expected for the human to pretend he was still sleeping so he didn't bother acknowledging it. He wanted to respect his need to be alone, to be able to mourn (?) what used to be. There was no way to know what was going on in that busy head of his, only that he reacted to Derek like a victim would and it wasn't... It's not how he had wanted it to end between them, where he was the villain of the story yet again. That role had been assigned to him so often that he had stopped fighting it a long time ago. Whatever people thought of him, he couldn't make them think differently, he could only do what needed to be done, regardless of how it made him seem.

It wasn't like Derek had been arrested for actual crimes. It had always been a set up but after that happening a lot of times, he had collected quite the file. Name had been cleared, sure, but the many times he had been flagged as a person of interest, the many times he had spent in a jail cell, it had consequences. Like always getting the full body search experience at airports, or being the person to be looked at with every crime happening. He’d never be able to get certain jobs and he was the local bad boy in town. It didn't matter that he had helped Noah on cases, that he was living with the sheriff or that he had a kid now.

And now Stiles looked at him like that, unknowingly. So when the human rasped out a ‘stay,’ he kind of expected it to be the talk, the one where Stiles was going to tell him it's not you, it's me, I need some time for himself. Let's stay friends. That kind of talk. Hesitantly, Derek put down his pillow as he glanced around where to sit. Was the bed okay or was it too close for Stiles to be comfortable with? Maybe he should settle in the desk chair – that seemed like a safe option.

Quietly he moved it a little closer to the bed and took a seat on it, stiffly because it wasn't a comfortable chair to lounge on. But standing would have seemed awkward too. "I'll stay on the couch. I'd move to the loft but it's not ready for a child. I'll need a couple of weeks to get it ready but if you want, I can sleep there," he said all that so Stiles didn't have to, fully accepting the consequences of his actions.

Stiles was silently chewing on his bottom lip, trying to collect his thoughts, determine how and what to tell Derek when his whole body froze from what Derek was saying. He... he thought they were breaking up! That Stiles is going to leave him despite the bonds!

Fuck. FUCK!

Struggling with the covers, Stiles somehow managed to turn around and sit up, his body tangled up here and there but he didn't care. He finally faced his mate and the dark and closed up expression on the familiar face was... a mask to hide his pain and disappointment and self-blame. Which Stiles could feel through their pulsing bonds too.

"I'm NOT breaking up with you, Derek!" The words came out nearly as a yell as realization hit him hard, the chain reaction following shook Stiles' whole world. How could he be so selfish?! Wallowing in his room like this! Hurting his mate with his silence! Up to the point where losing him for good became reality. That thought squeezed the air out of his lungs and he felt like he couldn't breathe.

Because he was too weak, Stiles was losing his mate... And that thought... that thought was unbearable.

Air became thin as his fingers curled into fists around the cover, heart beating like a caged bird’s. His eyes widened and his whole body started shaking and tensing up, the white noise in his ears getting louder as panic jumped on him with full force. He had no chance to stop it this time.

"I'm... not... Don't..." he wheezed, body starting to curl on himself. Don’t leave me, he wanted to say but was unable as his throat closed off and tiny dots started dancing in front of his eyes. It's been a while since he had such a severe panic attack.

Good job, asshole, you made him have a panic attack.

Something he was good at too. Because of his shitty communication skills, he would throw others into panic attacks. It often happened with his ex and now with Stiles too. And he still hated it, hated seeing somebody he cared about gasping for air because everything constricted and froze up due to the panic. To see him in such a state because of him, it always made his self-worth plummet even more while the guilt intensified. It made it hard to react right, because he felt like he shouldn't touch when he was the cause of this.

Reluctantly, he moved from the chair to the bed, hands hovering uselessly until he settled them onto the human nevertheless. Gently rubbing circles on the heaving back, whispering nothings like "It'll be fine, it'll be okay."

Derek assumed that Stiles was having this severe reaction because he thought the werewolf would break the bond and kill them both. Which of course wasn't going to happen, they were going to find a way to make it work, close the connection to a certain point over time. That way Stiles would be able to move on, find somebody new if he wanted to. This was not going to be a toxic kind of break up, it wasn't what the Hale was like. It was more the futile kind of acceptance because this was his life and it wasn't going to change. Having nearly four months together was an accomplishment on its own.

The more Stiles felt from Derek's emotions (acceptance, closure, pain, self-blame), the worst the panic attack was getting. By the time the other man moved closer and finally touched him, Stiles was on the verge of passing out. His control over the magic slipped and it made the glasses in the room clink together and shake, the one lamp in the corner flickering wildly.

"Don't you... dare... leave... me!" Stiles managed to say. He forced his trembling hands to reach out and curl into fists around Derek's shirt. Then he dragged himself closer to the wolf, needing his closeness, warmth and scent to be able to calm down. He needed to match his breathing to his, to hear his steady heartbeat.

So he practically sagged against Derek's chest, pressing his ear over said heart and burying his nose into the fabric. He forced himself to take a small breath and another and another. Slowly, very slowly being able to breathe again, his arms like vices around the other man. As if he was scared shitless that he'd suddenly disappear again. And that was exactly the case.

"... 'm... sorry... that... I'm too weak... not enough... for you... Please... don't leave..." he choked out in-between dizzying breaths, tears wetting Derek's shirt. "I'll try... harder. I promise..." he cried into Derek's chest, his fists opening and closing around the creased fabric.

Derek had no idea what he was doing but apparently what he was doing was wrong because it only made it worse, magic out of control worse. He was half-expecting the windows to blow when the glasses clinked together as if a Poltergeist inhabited the room. He wasn't leaving? He was still right there, holding him, the running away from town stage was long over, because he wouldn't do that to Beth ever.

For a moment he had frozen up when Stiles had gotten close, when those usually flailing arms wrapped around him tightly while a weeping face pressed into his shirt. There was no way of knowing what he was allowed to do, all the emotions were conflicting and he was afraid of doing the wrong things even more. It felt like Stiles was made of glass and he was going to break at any moment because he was already shattered. Derek wasn't going to blame himself for cracking the glass, those had been there already but he did blame himself for pushing the younger man to this... this broken shell. A shadow of what he was supposed to be.

Shaking hands lowered so Derek could run his fingers through the greasy and messy strands of brown hair. "There's nothing weak about not being able to deal with me, Stiles. You're one of the strongest persons I know." The idea of Stiles trying harder, to try and force himself to be with Derek out of fear of losing him, it was heartbreaking. It would break him even more, they wouldn't be able to keep up with that kind of a sham.

"What I did..." The words were laced with disgust. "You have every right to be upset about it. I don't want you to force yourself to get over it."

"But I want to be able to deal with it. I want to be able to kiss and touch you, make love to you again. I know you are not just that tortured beast... I know you are so much more... I want to be with you. I am your mate. I..." he stopped and took a deep calming breath, exhaling slowly. The clinking and flickering lessened somewhat and he closed his teary eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the caresses of the big hand in his hair and eventually on his back as he was practically half-lying in Derek's arms.

"I make you feel unwanted, but I want you. I want you to be my mate. I just... hope you still want that too," Stiles whispered then sniffed and took another deep breath, steeling himself. "What went down in the loft... during your rut... it was... very... trying on many levels. The physical pain was the least. I could deal with that. I eventually always could no matter what happened to me..." he paused, rubbing the shirt's fabric between his thumb and index-finger somewhere around Derek's waist to help him focus.

"I have to talk about it. To start getting over it, but it's... it's not easy. And I know it isn't going to be easy for you either. Will you... will you let me talk about it? Will you listen?" he asked unsure. He didn't want to force Derek into listening what he did while out of control. Maybe there was a reason why he usually didn't remember most of his ruts. "I don't want to... hurt you with it."

Stiles wasn't the only one who was unable to be intimate, Derek hadn't been able to be aroused since the healing happened. He had felt what he had done to his mate and it had ruined any kind of lust or need he'd might feel. For now.

"Being together isn't about sex, I'm fine without it. I don't think I want to. For a while at least." Kisses would be good, they could work towards that and the rest? It didn't worry him as much because sex had been a bad thing for him and Stiles had changed that. Maybe this would get better for them, maybe it wouldn't. It didn't make him want out of this.

Next part

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