Part 5

After that the days were somehow duller and grayer and Stiles couldn't shake off the sadness and depression that kept following him wherever he went. He was on autopilot. Went to work, caught bad guys, went out to eat or just sit around next to a coffee, watching people living their lives. But his bubbling, hyperactive personality was nowhere to be found.

His own life felt like passing him by, like he wasn't even part of it. Sometimes it felt like he wasn't even living. Just existing. He felt alive when he was with Derek, though. Back in the days he thought it was because of the danger and adrenaline during their potentially deadly adventures. Then later he felt like that during their conversations and bickering too. Each time they got closer and then Derek had left, the world lost its colors a bit for Stiles. And each time that sensation lasted longer.

This time... this time it felt worse somehow. Okay, he knew why. Being with Derek like that showed Stiles how it meant to be really alive. And now he'd lost hope that it was going to happen ever again. Because he thought naively that maybe after spending the night together and putting everything he had into it, Derek would stay. But Stiles had nothing else to offer. And apparently it was still not enough. He'll never be enough for someone like Derek.

Too bad that after their night together 9 days 8 hours and 40 minutes ago (but who was counting?) Stiles was more in love with Derek than ever before.

And yet now he still felt numb and empty, just pushing his half-eaten food on his plate. He's been doing that for like half an hour, so he decided to just pay and head home despite the rain outside. He didn't care.

He stopped looking over his shoulder and around in hopes of taking a glimpse of the familiar figure in that black leather-jacket, hands in the pockets. Derek was long gone by then, god knows where. Stiles accepted that and hoped that he was happy wherever he was. Even if it made the detective feel miserable.

At home he took a warm shower, got dressed and made a hot mug of tea. His hair was still damp from the rain and shower, but he didn't care. After the tea he just curled up in his old leather-armchair by the window, his favorite comforter keeping his form warm enough while he was staring out through the window.

Derek should have left San Francisco, he should have and yet he hadn't because he couldn't. So he didn't do goodbyes but that didn't mean he didn't care. Some decisions were made because he cared too much.

Instead of the couch surfing, he had found an abandoned building to linger in for a while. He couldn't afford distractions that came with human interactions. He watched Stiles for over a week, from a far distance so the other wouldn't notice him. And he never did. Stiles was too busy hanging his head to even glance back once. Too caught up in his own head to see the world outside of it and the more Derek observed, the more he realized that maybe Stiles wasn't such a bad liar after all.

This wasn't happiness, this wasn't how Stiles enjoyed his life. He was lonely, nobody besides the people he worked with interacted with him and he left for home alone. There were no smiles, there wasn't even a glint of life in the dull eyes. And Derek knew – despite his tendency to blame himself for things he had no fault in – that this was of his doing for real. Scott had told him once how Stiles had missed him, had been angry with him for leaving with Braeden that day in Mexico. Scott had told him that when Stiles and Derek had returned to Beacon Hills after Stiles had rescued the wolf from the FBI manhunt.

Stiles wasn't pining, he was mourning and he had been for over a week while the Hale resorted to hiding in the dark and watching from afar. Because of sticking around, this time he saw what he did, this time there was no pretending. And wasn't he the idiot for pretending his life was so great to keep Stiles happy when the other wasn't happy at all? It was better this way, it was so much safer for Stiles this way. And yet Derek didn't leave as he tried to make up his mind on what to do. He still had no clue what to do when he had found himself in Stiles' apartment when the human wasn't there. No clue at all what he was doing while hiding away in the bedroom as he listened to Stiles showering, and then hiding away on the fire escape when Stiles went into the bedroom.

It was why he had a clear view of the forlorn look on the human's face while the werewolf was outside in the rain, looking at the broken man curled up in his chair. Derek opened the window with ease since no window was locked for him ever, and as shock registered on the human's face at having a wet werewolf dripping on his carpet, Derek spoke, softly.

"I lied. I have one regret. Abandoning you."

The shock on Stiles face slowly disappeared and finally some life came back into his eyes as he stood up, letting the blanket drop to the floor. He couldn't believe that Derek was back! That he was really there dripping all over the floor and carpet. Not that the human cared about that.

Swallowing hard, he took a step towards the werewolf to reach out and lightly grab the edge of the leather-jacket with both hands. Just to make sure this was real and not some dream or illusion or possibly his mind finally going crazy. But the leather was cool and wet under his fingers as he took another step, stopping right in front of the slightly taller wolf. The brown, suddenly hopeful eyes never left that intense gaze.

"I have one too. Not asking you sooner to stay with me," he whispered and it was clear that he meant much more than for one night.

As much as Derek wanted to say he would have stayed back then when asked, he knew it wasn't the right time for them. Now though, now it was different. Water leaked down from his wet hair in rivulets over his face and he didn't care. He didn't care that this was about the stupidest thing he was going to do and it broke all of his own rules and yet...

"Ask me."

He leaned in closer as Stiles clutched at his leather jacket. They had been in this pose before, many years ago, but it was all different now. There was no turning back. And Derek, he didn't mind staying in San Francisco, it wasn't like he had a pack or home to return to.

Stiles' heart was beating fast now as his fingers tightened around the leather, lips parting on a small gasp for air. His hopeful eyes were searching the wolf's for a long moment.

"Don't leave this time. Stay with me, Derek," Stiles pressed himself against the wet body, getting damp within moments, but he didn't give a damn. "I need you, because... I love you."

"I'll stay." It was that simple. He'd stay because he was asked, because the lone wanderer had only wandered to keep the others from being harmed. He was so tired of being alone, of being an omega, of meaningless sex without ever having feelings. Stiles had shown him what it was like to make love, and they could never go back now.

Green eyes searched brown ones, a warm glow in them as his lashes lowered halfway, his eyes going to the tempting lips. "I need you too." And he loved him too. More than he should, more than what was healthy since Derek Hale never ever did anything in the normal way. His hand reached up to cup a warm cheek before settling his hand at the back of Stiles' neck to pull him as close as possible so he could kiss him.

The kiss betrayed his feelings, it was deep and passionate. They were going to make their own life now, together. Because Derek wasn't going anywhere again, not without Stiles.

THE END

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