Just Jim edit

"Looking good. The inflammation around the eyes are gone too," Stiles sighed relieved as his fingertips carefully caressed the healed skin in question. "How do they feel to you?"

"Like normal, only... not working," Derek blinked a few times but there wasn't even a changing in the lights, no shadows but he could see where Stiles was, an ember-colored shape in the darkness. Unfortunately he couldn't check to see if the alpha eyes would let him have sight because the potions kept him from changing so he wouldn't attack Stiles again. It was disconcerting that when he reached up to touch his eyes, he didn't see the digits coming and didn't close his eyes on instinct so he ended up poking himself like an idiot. The huff he let out was caught between a laugh and a sigh as he blinked away the tears from the sharp brief sting. At least the tears still worked and there was no scar tissue. "How does it look?"

Derek realized they weren't normal looking with the slight unease he felt coming from Stiles, but they probably didn't look as ruined as Deucalion's eyes did before Jennifer had healed them. Not with all the magic and healing. He picked up on auras but not ghosts anymore, obviously, since Laura's scoff at him for poking his own eyes was close by and he didn't see her. Then again, the Hale hadn't seen her before Hell so it was probable that she wasn't really there.

Gripping the sink tightly to keep from lurching sideways, he knew he felt so off because the potions affected his balance, which had been off already due to the blindness. And Stiles did warn that it was going to weaken his body even though it helped keep the insanity at bay. But there was no complaining, this was safer and better for Stiles, and he should count himself lucky that he was still there. Most didn't survive Lucifer's attention, they'd off themselves within a day.

"I'm getting naked now so you better leave the bathroom." Words again not spoken to Stiles but somebody in the corner who seemed to leave since Derek's head followed until the door. "Ophelia, my reaper. She's lingering like a buzzard but she's nice. Told me that I win over Lucifer if I manage to stay alive." Derek knew how that sounded, he wasn't even sure if his mate believed him. He wasn't even sure himself if she was real or if he was imagining things.

"They look… Where your irises should be... well, it looks white, nearly silvery. Like a bad case of grey cataract," Stiles said, drawing Derek's attention back to him. Once again, he didn't comment on his mate talking to someone else, even if for a brief moment he thought Derek was sending him out of the bathroom before realization hit him. Because it wouldn't make sense. They had seen each other naked enough times for a comment like that to be fired his way.

So yeah... Derek sounded like he was insane indeed, but Stiles wasn't going to judge. He remembered the time the sickness made his mother have delusions. When she thought Stiles wanted to kill him and that's why the ten-year-old boy was staring at her. It was a difficult memory, a suppressed one which had surfaced thanks to the Dread Doctors, and stayed with him ever since.

But it also allowed him to understand Derek's comments better. He wasn't judging, he was just rolling with them. Because he also remembered what Morrell had told him about Derek having some... abilities after his first return from Hell. Maybe he had earned more after he was reunited with the missing part of his soul. He couldn't know yet. Perhaps later he could ask. Now they had a task at hand.

Still, hearing about Derek's 'reaper' shook something deep in Stiles. Even if it wasn't real, even if it was just the mumbling of a half-mad werewolf... Because Stiles had read enough about supernatural creatures – including reapers – to know that if one was nearby and visible to someone, it was a sign of being close to death. And he didn't want Derek to be close to death. Ever.

"So... now that we are... hopefully alone... Do you want a shower or would you be okay to sit in the tub with me so we can minimize the possibility of you falling over like a sack of potatoes and hurting yourself in the process? Because that wouldn't be good. We just patched you up," Stiles said with a tiny spark of teasing in his voice – a sliver of his true self shining through all the sorrow and darkness he felt weighing down on him.

"Tub would be good, because I do feel like a sack of potatoes. If I didn't know any better about them not working on me, I'd say the fortune cookies siblings stuffed me full of muscle relaxants." Or Derek imagined that's how they worked because he had very little experience with human medicine, besides being stitched up when he had been human. That had been an annoyance but the painkillers had been nice. The whole dying part not so much. So if they could limit him getting himself injured, it would be great.

His coordination was off and he knew if he fell, he wouldn't know where the walls were or furniture and he'd blindly reach out for something to grab, making the fall only worse. Kind of how Stiles would fall, flailing and tense, managing to hit parts of himself he shouldn't be able to injure. Adding slippery wet tiles... a blind doped up crazed werewolf and the scenario for injuries was complete. Which was proven when Derek let go of the sink, took a few tentative steps to where he assumed Stiles was because he was behind him, and the moment he whirled around was when the world tilted on its axis and he was left keeling over. It almost went in slow motion, it wasn't a hard fall, his ass cushioned it as he plopped down on it and his face probably showed his surprise at being Stiles-clumsy. "Oh god," he groaned.

As if there had been any dignity left at this point. Derek Hale, alpha and leather wearing buff werewolf, had landed on his ass like a toddler learning to walk. It was just so stupid that he couldn't help but laugh, because everything was so fucked up and they were a mess and he was going to die, or be in a coma forever or insane forever with a wall keeping him from going completely out of his mind. Blind by his own hands, clumsy... He had to laugh, it was better than crying.

"Yeah, bath really seems like a great idea," Derek deadpanned, fumbling around to get up and having no idea how to without toppling over again. "How are you still even alive with your clumsiness?"

The laugh they shared was kinda off, but a much needed little relief for both of them. Stiles relaxed a bit after he realized that Derek was fine and he did look quite comical sitting on his ass so surprised like that.

"Heeey! I used to be much clumsier as a teen because I grew a lot and my coordination was off. It was like I was put into an alien body. Quite a lot like in sci-fi movies. Since then I've got better thanks to the training I went through at the academy and with you. Besides... I think I've mastered clumsiness," he babbled, his chest a bit lighter.

He helped Derek up and led his hands onto the edge of the counter. "Stay right here. No moving. I'll start the bath then help you get undressed. No cheating! I'll know if you move..." he stroked along Derek's hand before moving away and plugging in the bath tub in time with turning the water on. He even went as far as pouring some lavender-scented bath crystals in it, which was a nice way of adding some extra relaxing smells to their bath. God knows, they needed it. Or not, since according to Derek God had retired a long time ago and didn't care.

With a small sigh, Stiles found himself back on his mate's side and he gently guided the wolf to face him. Yeah, the new eyes were something he'll have to get used to, but it wasn't that bad. It made Derek look even more unique than he already was for Stiles.

"Time to get naked," he announced and hesitated only for a moment before his slender fingers slid under Derek's shirt, gently caressing the warm skin there for a few moments. It was selfish, Stiles knew, but he did miss Derek in other ways too. They had enough on their plate without these emotions too. Especially since it's been a long time – before the rut, to be exact.

Lightly shaking his head, knowing that Derek wasn't going to see it, Stiles suppressed another sigh and instead pulled the borrowed shirt over the wolf's head just to drop it on the floor, his fingers going for the sweatpants next as he allowed his eyes to admire the beauty of his mate for a few moments. Because no matter what happened to Derek, Stiles still found him beautiful.

At least one of them had mastered the clumsiness and it wasn't Derek, that was for sure. He had been clinging to the counter until Stiles helped him undress. The mood in the other was sensed, understood even though it wasn't something Derek was ready for. Cuddling up, the touches on his skin, those were ones he was comfortable with because they didn't have the kind of intent which would lead to sex. Stiles seemed to sense that much because the touches remained lingering and didn't turn into more, it made Derek feel relieved. He didn't want to turn his mate down but he also didn't want to force himself into something he wasn't okay with.

He could feel the human's eyes trail over him when the clothes were removed. Nothing had changed bodily except for the runes carved into him. The one on his arm and the one on his chest which had scarred as well. Both marks he'd wear proudly if he was going to be able to get through this all. No. When, not if. That's what he was supposed to be thinking or the ritual might not work.

Letting Stiles guide him into the water after he had stepped into the tub as well proved difficult. Derek had to sit on the edge so he'd know how high to swing his legs and not knock into the edge and fall over. And Stiles held him back from actually simply toppling over when moving his legs slowly into the warm water. The heavy scent of lavender hit his nose, while steady hands guided him from the ledge to sink into the water. Derek hadn't even realized his body temperature had been off until the warmth surrounded him and he couldn't hold back a moan at how good it felt. The wolf hadn't felt clean since the soul merging so this was going to help a bit at least.

"Maybe your magic can turn me into a merman and I can stay in here." He wanted to ask how long it took for Stiles to feel clean but he knew the answer to that. It was never going to go away, it would lessen. With time.

Stiles chuckled from that remark after he too got quickly undressed and got into the tub, facing Derek. It was so different from the last time they were in there together. It wasn't romantic, they weren't cuddling after good sex, they were both tired, Derek blind and on the edge of insanity and Stiles feeling lonelier than ever. But he put up a good face to it, like he did many times in the past too.

He was fine. They are going to be fine.

"Well, I don't know any transformation spells yet, but I can look into it if you really want that..." he chuckled low as he dipped a soft sponge under the water and lathered it up with some shower gel. "You'd be a sexy merman, I think. Even sexier than Jason Momoa as Aquaman... and that's a big thing for me to say because he's really dreamy in that role..." he sighed like a teenage boy having a huge crush on said actor, hands gently washing Derek with the sponge.

He took cleaning Derek seriously and was very thorough with every inch of his skin, as if he knew exactly what his mate was thinking about. Besides, this was the most peaceful thing they did ever since Derek's soul was back. Stiles even let his bare hand linger over that rune, just to check if everything was okay. He didn't feel anything wrong, so he relaxed a bit more. It was turning into a habit of his – checking on the second rune he gave to his mate. Maybe a part of him was still dreading the worse, but he knew that the soul ritual was a success. What they were going through now was just the aftermath of it.

"Sexier than Jason… I doubt that," Derek chuckled at the idea because last he checked, Momoa was this giant of a man with muscles as big as the wolf's head. He had seen Aquaman, that was impossible to beat and sure he knew he was good-looking but he wasn't anywhere near Jason's league and he knew that. Plus long hair? Yeah, he couldn't see himself looking good with long hair. The longest he had ever let it get was a little past the tip of his ears. And he remembered he had looked into the mirror and thought to himself that he did look like a Miguel now. Stiles and his stupid cousin Miguel jokes. It did make him blend in when in South America, though.

"To me you are always going to be sexier than Jason. Or anyone else, for that matter," Stiles smirked because he couldn't not comment on those doubting words. Besides, it was true. Derek was his mate for life. He couldn't look at anyone else in the way he looked at Derek.

"It's fine you know... the marks? I don't mind them." Derek felt the way the hand without the sponge lingered at the one on his chest and he knew it had scarred, he had felt the irregularity in his skin. Honestly, he liked them, because he never had been able to keep scars as werewolf, not even the one he gained as human because the moment he had evolved, it all had healed. Scars told a story, his story was erased all the time, his were on the inside so people would forget that just because he healed, it didn't mean it didn't hurt. Most of the time he ignored that himself. "You have my bite, I have your runes."

Surviving this, Lucifer's endless torture, it was worthy of a mark on his body as a reminder when years had passed and the intensity of the insanity maybe had lessened. When he was old and wise and the mind wasn't as sharp, not that it was ever going to be sharp again.

The amber eyes looked down at his wet hand still hovering over the rune and he stroked a fingertip along the scar tissue. "I know you don't mind them. I know you always wore the other with pride... A sign of belonging to me. This one..." he drew out the rune with that finger "should remind you that you're whole again. That you're stronger than you might think. You're still here, still standing, still alive. We both are..." he trailed off and fought off the urge to touch the bite mark on the back of his own neck. The scars he chose to wear. His mark of belonging to Derek. Even if the wolf didn't like that Stiles refused to let it fully heal, he was wearing it with pride too.

Dipping the sponge into the water again, he returned to cleaning his other half, this time on his chest and neck, slowly working himself up towards the by then thick beard and handsome face. Derek seemed to feel more at ease with his touches, which gave a little hope to Stiles.

"I'm going to wash your hair too then I want to hold you in my arms for a while if that's okay with you..." the emissary whispered after a while, hoping that what he was asking for was okay with Derek too.

Honestly, Derek would be fine with anything as long as they'd stay in the warm water for a while. Hair washing would be good, it still had dried blood in it and it felt greasy when he ran his hand through it. It was getting long, easier to maintain though when he couldn't see what he was doing and it wasn't like he was going to get a haircut, it was the last thing he cared about.

"Yeah, I think so, we can try it." Hard to say if he was going to get a reaction to it but it had went fine in bed so, despite their nudity, it shouldn't be a problem. Stiles was associated with safety now that Derek couldn't confuse him with Lucifer.

"I don't mind your nudity, I don't know how I'll react though." He wasn't even sure what memories were real or not, what all happened torture-wise because it was a jumbled mess in his head, the potions blurring it all together.

After Kate and Jennifer, a shower had been needed mornings and evenings, that dirty feeling never going away and it felt similar. Lucifer wouldn't... right? Derek didn't know, he didn't want to find out when it was too late and he had a bad reaction to touches. Derek felt mellow enough right now to try. "I don't like to think... that happened but..." Hell had been about breaking him and with his past, it would be a way to get to him so unfortunately, there was a chance something did happen.

Hopefully it was going to be a forgotten memory, Lucifer wasn't going to remind him, the fallen angel was... who knows where he was hiding but he didn't concern himself with Hell anymore. "Leaning against you will make me feel your heartbeat." It would anchor him, it was a sound he wanted to hear as often as possible, or feel. Thumping against him was soothing, it reminded him they were both alive, both here in the now instead of someplace else. That it wasn't an illusion or hallucination.

"It's okay. I won't do anything just hold you to have you close and to let you feel my heartbeat," Stiles said on a soothing voice. He didn't want to think about Lucifer possibly torturing Derek with rape. Even the possibility made Stiles' empty stomach churn, the bile trying to rise. No, instead he focused on the heartbeat part. It wasn't said out, but he knew it would ground Derek some more. As Stiles had noticed, it was the only thing that really worked on him in the last few days. That's why he was so reluctant to leave the wolf's side – or the loft.

Derek needed stability. Something to hold onto to keep himself sane. And it seemed that Stiles was the only thing that could anchor him. So he was going to be the rock he needed so he wouldn't sink and drown in the horrors below.

"We both know that being close to your mate helps on many levels too. I believe a bit on mental trauma as well," he murmured, starting to carefully wash Derek's hair before lathering it up with the shampoo he usually used and lacked the chemicals that would otherwise sting the sensitive eyes in case some got into it. The human guessed that it didn't matter that Derek was blind now, it'd work the same way. Either way, he worked carefully but with steady moves, commenting before doing anything new just to make sure Derek stayed calm.

Once he finished, he quickly washed up both his own body and hair too then helped Derek turn around so he could lay between Stiles' open legs. The human let his pair set the pace from there, wanting to keep him as comfortable as he could manage. So he waited patiently with his back against the tub's back, hands resting on the edge.

It seemed like a simple thing to do, lean back against the solid chest but it wasn't easy at all. There was a presence lurking behind his exposed, naked back. Clutching at the ledge, Derek took a few deep breaths. It was like that team building exercise you had to do in high school, to fall backwards and trust the other one to catch you. Which he had been great at when younger but no doubt spectacularly would fail at now. Trust hadn't been so easily gained ever since the fire because Derek had the habit of trusting people he shouldn't have and it got people hurt or killed. This was Stiles though, he trusted Stiles. It was the empty space between them he didn't trust.

He wasn't in Hell anymore, it wasn't going to change, it wasn't going to hurt him, Derek told himself as he slid backwards until he felt the strong presence of a rib cage against his slippery back. He had made it. Tentatively the wolf exhaled, letting go of the tightly gripped edge of the tub so his full weight would lean against his mate. And nothing happened.

It felt nice, the heart was thrumming away against his skin, loud in his ears as well as the deep breaths the human was taking, the soft splatter sounds of the water due to Derek's moving. The nakedness didn't trigger, it was okay like this. It took a solid ten minutes for Derek to going from sitting hunched over until he moved to splay against the inviting body but by then he did dare to relax a little. It was progress, it was good progress. Closing his eyes, he could almost imagine them doing this often, relaxing in the bath together out of love, without all these triggers and heartaches. He could imagine liking the naked body like this, for them to make love like this. He wanted the normalcy so much it ached, because they had been close to reaching it.

Stiles tried to stay as relaxed as he could, waiting patiently and trying to send encouragement and safety through their bonds. It seemed to have worked because soon he could feel Derek's back against his chest and it made Stiles' heart beat a bit faster with happiness and relief before it got back to its normal rhythm. Or at least normal to his standards. His heart was going to beat a bit faster and skip a beat here and there because of the medicine he had to take for the rest of his life. But it was something Derek was used to by then.

Once his mate finally relaxed against him, Stiles leaned his face against Derek's head and pressed a soft kiss into his hairline. "You did well, Derek. I'm so proud of you," he whispered on a loving tone, but didn't move his hands from the edges of the tub just yet.

It was a sad affair when Stiles had to compliment him on moving a few inches to lean against him, the thought frustrating even though Derek knew it was something to be commended for because it had been a large step. And was also a frustrating thought to Derek, something so small was big for him. It was going to be a long road to recovery, not like when he had returned from Hell the first time and it had been mostly his body needing healing. The mind had been traumatized sure but not like this.

"When this is all over, when I can... when I'm more like myself... can we... go away for a few weeks? Somewhere where there is snow and a cabin." So they could have what those videos showed, so he could remember it and not see it on a screen. Play with Beth and not be in Beacon Hills and pretend they had a normal life, just for a few weeks.

Derek’s suggestion surprised the druid, but he liked it. "Yes, I think that'd be a great idea. To get away from this place and everything else and be a family again. I miss that too, you know. I only got a taste of it with you and Beth before all the... complications happened with me and you. She deserves more of our time with her. I feel very guilty that we cannot be with her for a while, but I'll check on her, I promise. It's better to keep all this from her. Besides Grandpa No is doing a great job with Melissa's help. She's doing fine. So yeah... a few weeks away from here with the two of you sounds amazing."

The wolf’s fingertips touched the mark on his chest. He hadn't seen the rune, or he had seen it but it hadn't been important at the time. So he didn't know what it looked like precisely, because there were too many runes and he hadn't studied them but he knew the mark would be small, like on his arm. It had healed peculiarly, so he could still feel it, like reading braille.

He did well.

It was like a damn broke through, heat pooling behind his eyes, he didn't cry he told himself but there was no stopping it now that it had started. Mourning what had been, what could have been and had been destroyed because of a broken soul. Lying here in the warm bath, surrounded by the scent of lavender and the sound of the heartbeat that was so Stiles, the Hale curled against the pale body as his own was wrecked with sobs. It was needed, it was a release of everything, a show of complete faith and trust. Derek hadn't cried in thirty years in Hell and now it was like his body needed to expel all of the ugliness through salty tears.

All of Stiles' attention was on his pair and he swallowed hard, feeling some of what Derek was feeling. Still, he didn't stop him or said anything. There was no need for that. Instead he slowly put his arms around his mate, holding him steadily but not too tight. He knew this crying was necessary. Another step towards healing and although his heart was breaking all over for the wolf, he was also a bit relieved that it was finally happening. And that Derek felt comfortable enough with him to let him see like this. It strengthened back their bonds, making perhaps both of them a bit calmer and more balanced.

Stiles pressed a few soft kisses against the crying man's head time after time and even made some reassuring and consoling sounds, but otherwise stayed silent. It wasn't a time for his usual blabbing. It was the time of letting some of the horrors go and showing his support and love to the broken man in his arms. The man he loved more than anything on this world. Whom he wanted to help in any way he could. And this time it was like this.

Stiles didn't know what the following days would bring, if the ritual will work or not. For now he just wanted to be there for his mate and spend as much time with him while his mind was more or less clear... before he had to give him more potions... as much as possible.

"I love you," he finally whispered after long, long minutes, his arms protectively tightening a little bit around Derek.

They stayed in the bath tub until the water ran cold, one curled up, the other holding the wolf tightly and soothingly. Hands running along tanned skin to calm, to give him all the time he needed to get this all out of his system without judging, only with patient love. It eased the tension between them, maybe because Stiles knew Derek put full trust in him with this, that they needed one another badly and it wasn't as one-sided as the human had feared it could be. Because even through the brokenness and the insanity, there was only one thing the wolf was certain of.

"I love you too," Derek whispered in return, as if the echo in the large bathroom would steal away the importance of the words, something only for them to hear and to know. It was special, it had meaning. It belonged to them and them alone for as long as they possibly could keep this.

Eventually the tears dried and Derek felt exhausted, already half out of it while Stiles dried them both off and got them dressed in clean clothes. So by the time he was in bed, he was out like a light, comforted by the clean sheets and the smell of food being made in the kitchen. At some point he was dimly aware of Stiles sitting next to him to eat but he was too out of it, remained out of it when he had to drink the potions again, After that the days had blended together where Derek had moments of clarity, or he was screaming his throat raw when nightmares became too much. The potions had made him sick so much that there had to be a bucket next to the bed as he threw up black bile or whatever food the human attempted to make him eat.

There was a lot of curling up together, banter if the Hale was up for it to help keep Stiles somewhat sane because it was a strain on them both. The insanity was winning, the clear moments became less and less and the Hale's body was not up for tolerating the potions much longer. Stiles had already resorted to taping gloves on Derek's hands so he wouldn't scratch himself open. The back of his neck was an oozing open wound.

It was time for the ritual.

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