Helping a Friend

After we got home from Mexico, Malia broke up with me. She said she had to "work on her" or whatever. She spends most of her time with Braeden now, who broke Derek's heart. I wasn't upset, and I'm still not. Derek, however, is in this mood. He's gone back to hating me completely, for reasons unknown to me, and pushing me into walls. I've resorted to being snarkier, and overall more sarcastic. It's worked wonders. Derek, like me, is compelled to reply to sass with more sass. It's our instinct.

I am pulled from my thoughts when my phone rings. "Scott, what's going on, buddy?" The line is quiet. "Scott?" I ask slightly concerned. There is a barely audible passing of the phone from one person to another. "Stiles, you need to get to the loft right now! Derek isn't moving! Please hurry," Kira's voice sounded before the line went dead. I quickly shove my feet into my shoes and grab my keys off my desk. When I get downstairs I see my dad in the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks. "Hey, Dad, I'm heading out. I probably won't be home for dinner. Is that okay?" He sets down the newspaper he was reading and looks at me through his glasses. "Is everything alright," His voice is heavy with concern.

"Yeah," I say looking down at my hands, "Just helping a friend."

I come to a stop in front of the loft. I sprint inside. God knows what's wrong with Derek. My stomach turns at the thought of Derek covered in blood, knocked out from some sort of attack. I stop outside the huge sliding door. I take a deep breath and muster up all the courage I have. I open the door, step inside, and close it behind me. I run to Scott, who's speaking to Kira. They both face away from me, and Derek is nowhere in sight. "Uh... Hello? Where's Derek," I ask, my voice higher pitched than I'd ever admit. The both turn to look at me, and when they do I am able to see Derek sitting on the floor, his legs crossed, and staring blankly into space. I struggle to speak around the lump in my throat, "Is this some kind of joke? You guys are sick." I turn to leave and Scott grabs my bicep. His eyes are staring into my soul, showing worry and concern. "Stiles, he's unresponsive. We've tried everything. I even clawed at his arm. He won't even blink." Kira remains silent. I walk towards the kitchen whilst biting my thumbnail. What could've caused this? If it were poison he would've healed. It has to be purely psychological. I lean my elbows on the counter and rub my eyes. I look down and there's a calendar. It has September 28th circled in red pen. Of course it is. That's the day Kate Argent burned his family alive. The only reason I even know this is because Derek and I have become good friends recently and we often talk about our pasts. "Hey, Scott, what's today's date," I yell to the front room. "I think it's the 28th," He responds. Goosebumps form on my arms. Of course today is that day. Three years prior to the fire, on this exact date, my mother died of Breast Cancer. "I think I know what's going on. I can handle it from here. Go have a date or something," I say as I sit square in front of Derek. Scott looks like he's going to protest, but one look from Kira and he closes his mouth. "Thank you, Stiles," Kira says as they leave the loft. I grab Derek's hands in my own and look into his eyes.

"Hey, buddy!" He doesn't respond with words, but his eyes shift and look into mine. There's no longer the blank look, it is replaced by one of recognition. As soon as he sees me, his eyes gloss over and he looks like he's going to cry. I've never seen him like this. Before he can start crying I pull him into an embrace. As soon as he's in the security of my arms he starts to cry and sob (loudly, I might add). "Shh! It's okay. I'm right here. Let it all out," I say as I rub circles into his back. Scott did the same for me when I grieved for my mom. I guess it's worse for Derek, because his whole family died in that fire.

It's about an hour later when Derek's stops sobbing and crying. After a bit longer, I stop rubbing his back to pull away intending on talking to him. Before I can speak he interrupts me, "You tell anyone about this, and I'll kill you." Wow. That was rude. "Why would I do that," I ask quietly. He looks really confused for a moment and then he stares at the floor as if it offended his honor. I realize that there won't be any talking soon, so I get up and make my way to the kitchen. I quickly get two glasses and fill them with water. I'm careful not to spill them on the trip back. I place one in front of Derek and sit down. "Derek," I ask, "I understand the grieving, but why were you unresponsive?" He looks into my eyes and lets out a long sigh. "I really don't know. All of those memories returned at the same time, and it felt as though I was drowning in them. I could hear Scott and Kira but, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make myself move. I was so scared, and I guess I let the grief wash over me. It wasn't until you showed up that I was able to move." Tears are now streaming down his face. "I'm sorry you had to waste your time. It won't again," Derek says as he starts to get up. I push him back into a sitting with more strength than I knew I had. "Sit the hell down, Hale." He looks at me shocked. "You may be a werewolf, but you are susceptible to emotions just like anyone else. You're allowed to grieve. Hell, I'm still grieving. You're my best friend, and being there for you is part of that job description. If you ever need someone to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on, call me. I'm here for you." I take a deep breath. Derek looks so fragile, and I'm afraid that one wrong word will break him. He's still staring in to my eyes. He grabs both of my shoulders, and I think he's going to hug me. Boy, am I wrong? He leans in and kisses me. HE KISSES ME! DEREK HALE IS KISSING ME! His hands move from my shoulders to my jaw, and I place my hands at his sides. The kiss is chaste, but passionate. When I pull away to breathe, I don't get a chance to speak before he interrupts me. "I think I'm in love with you," Derek says, panting for breath. Shit!