High Infidelity [Midnights #2]

chapter 10

Derek sat on the couch, laptop propped open in his lap, and he wanted very much to throw the damned thing out the nearest window with how fucking useless it had been lately, though it was really his fault. He was the one in charge of the device. It wasn't like it could do anything if Derek wasn't sure what to make it do.

But he wasn't built for research. Derek had always been the muscle. And he hadn't realized until he'd struggled to come up with any fucking answers at all how much he relied on Stiles, and others around them, to make this whole operation run smoothly.

He desperately wished, in this moment, he hadn't taken it all for granted and had actually learned something.

Too late now.

Derek looked up from the blank screen and stared into his kitchen where Kate was rummaging through the fridge, smiling at the sight. Without Peter here, the house was goddamn lonely. Especially when Isaac went to school. Yes, he had to go too, but work was no longer a good enough distraction. And while Derek hated that he was obviously a little more codependent than he'd realized, it was nice to have anyone else here. And it was nice that he didn't need to ask when it came to Kate. She was just there, always offering her help and her time.

His phone began to ring and he felt around on the couch for it, his heart beating faster when he noticed Stiles' name there.

"What's wrong?" he blurted out.

"Why would something be wrong? Maybe I'm just calling to say hi," Stiles argued.

Derek waited. There was no point in telling Stiles he had never once called Derek just to say hi. He only ever called anymore if someone was dead or seriously injured. Besides, Stiles covered up a myriad of emotions with sarcasm and Derek wasn't going to poke that bear either. It was a security blanket for Stiles. And Derek knew the importance of those tiny, fleeting moments of being comfortable in your own skin.

Because Derek understood what it would mean if he thought too long or hard about anything he'd been through over the years. Stiles would crumble and never get up again. Because Derek would crumble if he thought too long or hard about anything either.

Derek Hale knew that pain.

"Lydia found a dead body," he finally admitted with a heavy sigh.

"A what?"

"My dad is on the way," Stiles continued. "He said he'd handle it by himself." Derek ran a hand over his face as Stiles sighed again. "I don't... I don't know what to do, Derek. I don't know how to help her."

"You are helping her, Stiles," Derek insisted emphatically.

"But we don't know what's wrong with her," Stiles contended. "And I don't think suddenly appearing next to a dead body is an improvement from the deer."

"No, it's not," Derek agreed. "But we'll figure it out. We know she's not a werewolf, so that's something."

"Has Deaton said anything? Have you found anything?"

It wasn't an accusation when Stiles asked it, but Derek bristled all the same. Stiles was simply curious. He wanted answers for his friend. He wanted to know that she was going to be okay, and Derek desperately wanted to provide that for him.

But he couldn't because no one had found a damned thing. Even Deaton had hit dead end after dead end recently.

"Not yet."

Derek looked up and shook his head at Kate, who had joined him in the living room with a rather confused expression on her face. She was only getting one side of the conversation and Derek had offered very little to go on. But he wasn't going to stop talking to Stiles to explain right now. He could fill her in later when he got off the phone.