Payment (revised)

Chapter 24

When I say I'm finishing this damn story i mean it

edited: 5/14/20

edited: 9/4/23

Stiles had been stalling outside Derek's office for ten minutes, debating whether or not to go in.

Purple bags bruised his under eyes, and the boy's bare feet were aging where he stood firmly rooted on the hard floor.

It felt like ten years had been added to his life in the past twelve hours alone.

Stiles had woken up alone.

Stiles had woken up alone.

In the empty king size bed, the maroon sheets were still stained with the night's activities; Stiles had woken up alone and proceeded to turn into a disaster.

He didn't understand, he thought they were okay. He knew that Derek hadn't forgiven him entirely, he hadn't forgiven Derek entirely either. But after the night they shared? After what Stiles had admitted to Derek?

Bile rose in Stiles's throat but he forced it back down.

He had told Derek he loved him, and woken to an empty bed. It wasn't hard to come to the conclusion that after the heat of the moment had passed, Derek lay awake brooding. Meanwhile Stiles had been asleep and under the impression that things would be okay.

It was an all too real possibility that Derek, even in the short time left to his own devices, had grown to resent Stiles for leaving him more than could be forgiven.

That didn't sit well for multiple reasons.

Stiles knew that the previous night he had allowed Derek to be angry with him without immediately fighting back. Derek deserved to have his side of the story heard, but Stiles had not forgotten the slights made against him.

They needed to have a discussion.

But his own anger could not fuel him the way it had the night they found Lydia.

Too easily, Stiles could recall waking up a second time to Derek wide eyed and afraid as he was forced to wait patiently while Stiles came out of one of his routine nightmares.

Nothing more than a little meaningless void pulling him deeper into the black abyss of his existence.

Usually, the nightmares didn't affect him so viciously, not since he was a kid. But with all that had changed for Stiles in the past few months, he wasn't surprised the dreams had found him again.

Stiles's mind traveled back to his original problem, somehow finding it easier to think about in comparison.

Where was Derek?

Stiles couldn't so easily dismiss the genuine heartbreak that had warped the man he knew. That man hadn't resented Stiles. What changed in the short time from early morning to midday? Sadness squeezed Stiles's heart until he was afraid it would stop beating altogether.

Stiles had woken up alone, and he didn't know why.

Part of him wanted to burst through the hand carved wooden doors and start screaming. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't let himself be played any longer, it was killing him and he needed Derek to realize the severity of his actions. He wanted an apology, he wanted a promise that Derek would never hurt him like that again.

He wanted Derek to look him in the eyes and finally admit that he was something much more than a debt repaid by a broken man.

But Stiles had woken up alone, and all the fight had drained from his body.