Derek hasn't had the best track record when it comes to relationships. He is broken and he has yet to realize his worth. Sometimes we need to see ourselves from the eyes of the people we love to know we matter. It's about finding the strength to be...
A/N: May be triggering. Werewolves can get drunk and high in my universe. Also, I do not own any of the pictures used here.
Derek POV
It's been a month since I've seen anyone. I've been drinking. I couldn't bring myself to go to Jackson's funeral. I knew I would regret that, but I just couldn't do it.
I haven't slept more than a couple of hours a night. I haven't left the house. I don't remember when or even if I've eaten or showered.
I won't answer the door or the phone.
I'm standing in the empty living room.
Just a couple of months ago, we were celebrating and having fun and now I am here.
I'm halfway through a bottle of whiskey.
I am so angry; I start destroying the kitchen.
I am walking through the glass as I go to the living room again. I start pulling the pictures off the wall. One by one they hit the floor with a clatter.
I feel the glass stabbing my feet I ignore it.
I deserve it.
I sit on the couch and pull my knees up to my chin. I am starting to cry.
I feel hopeless, I feel lost.
Stiles POV
I haven't seen Derek in a month. My heart is aching.
I've tried to see him. I go to his house. I leave baskets of food on the porch. He never opens the door.
I've gone there every day and there those baskets sit. I don't know what to do.
Peter says he needs time.
I am impatient. I need Derek. I need to be with him. I need to help him. I need to make him feel better.
We all went to Jackson's funeral and I expected Derek to be there, but he was not.
Scott and Isaac have been helping me through.
I spend most of my time with them.
I have an interview with the police department on Monday and I want to tell Derek, but he won't talk to me. I am feeling lost and hopeless.
Derek POV
"Derek Hale if you do not open this door, I am going to kick it down!" Peter yells.
Fuck.
I know that tone.
I stumble to the door and open it.
He steps in taking in the sight of me and the house.
"Derek. What the fuck?" He says.
I make my way back to the couch as I take another swig of whiskey.
Peter grabs the bottle and throws it a crossed the room.
I growl at him.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
