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sad-acederek · 8 years ago

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Reverse burglary (a Christmas miracle)

(Based on this post. Sterek prompt, with a poor, grieving Derek who gets the safety and rescue he so desperately hopes for)

Derek sighs. The way to home from campus looks as unappealing as the stack of work that weighs down his bag. Snow and slush has filled the streets while he had been confined to the monotonic walls of the lecture room, coloring the ground with whites and grays and browns.

Things have been tough for a long time now. Ever since Laura was killed, her body buried underneath the old and dilapidated Hale house, Derek’s been all alone. Grieving, anchorless mess. The fact that his own uncle had taken his alpha’s life, someone that was supposed to be family, was such a big blow that Derek hadn’t even known what to do with Peter afterwards.

Not that he had to do anything. His uncle had been killed by a hunter, Chris Argent, after Peter had gone rampant and apparently turned a couple teenagers in his fury. At first, a glimmer of hope had burst in Derek’s chest. Other wolves, just as lost and clueless as he was. It could mean a new start of a pack, a new family. Someone to get to be in contact with, to rely on without having to give anything but love in return.

It. . . Did not happen.

The first boy that had been turned, the one with the slightly magical smelling friend, had rebuffed Derek so hard he was still blinking back tears whenever he thought of it. The second one he had approached from afar, but after getting the gist that the kid, Jackson whats-his-face was a self-entitled, rich and spoiled jock, Derek had turned on his heels and never looked back.

But even if he didn’t get to have a pack, his chest burning with longing and sadness so deep it ached whenever he saw the other wolves (The other kid, Scott, had turned into a true alpha, and had turned three other kids as well to join their pack. They looked happy.), at least he was safe in Beacon Hills from other hunters. Peter had killed Kate, Derek shuddering at the thought of her still roaming these streets, and Chris had taken the position of the local hunter, and had mostly only threatened Derek.

Apart from that one time that Chris and his goons had destroyed Laura’s Camaro, the only thing he had left of her. He had sobbed for the whole night, ready to curl into a ball and disappear, crawl into the grave with Laura’s body and hope Mother Nature would caress him into sleep so deep he’d get to see the rest of his family.

He stayed.

But one problem (among many others) that he had, was that Derek had no money. With Laura’s death, the human society unaware of her passing, since ‘werewolf territory death match’ wasn’t a viable explanation to the police, all of the money that their inheritance held was in Laura’s name. In Laura’s bank accounts. Derek had no access to those.

The only thing he had was the apartment Laura had rented, with a automatic payment contract to the monthly rent. Without an anchor, or at least a stable one, Derek was unable to get a job because he was so afraid he would fuck it up. He’d enrolled into Beacon Hills community college, because that too had been pre-paid, but other than the three pairs of henleys, two t-shirts, four pairs of boxers and one pair of jeans with his Converse shoes and Kånken bag, he virtually had nothing for himself.

He was piss poor, unemployed full-time student with no friends, no family and hunters that were ready to put him down with only a wrong twitch of the eye.

His life was a disaster.

Trudging through the melting snow, Derek listened to his stomach mourn for food. In three days time there would be a full moon, and in that time, the woods would be dangerous to hunt in. If he wanted food, he’d have to go either tonight, or tomorrow. He tskd, thinking of the pile of essays waiting for him.

Thank God he was allowed to hand write them. If he wasn’t, he’d practically have to live in the library or at the school campus, because he didn’t own a computer. Even his apartment held only one working lamp with a light bulb, an empty fridge and two towels. He did have a plate and a fork, as well as a meat knife he’d snatched from the outdoor diner that didn’t look close enough for their customer’s empty dishes.

When he nears his apartment, Derek stiffens. Someone is inside his apartment. Wary, he carefully steps the three sets of stairs up to his door, and listens. The burglar doesn’t seem to be doing anything though. Which makes sense. Derek doesn’t even own a bed, for Christ’s sake. He usually sleeps as a wolf on the floor.

He rattles the lock loudly, hoping for whomever it is that’s on the other side would take the hint and bolt. But the person doesn’t. Derek opens the lock slowly, letting the door creak from its hinges, and steps inside. He drops his bag near the entrance as he closes the door behind him and stares.

The stranger is standing in a what should be a living room, his back faced against the front door. And it is a he, Derek realizes. It’s the kid, the friend of that true alpha. He’d never gotten his name, though, but he could smell the sheriff and the kid shared a scent, so he knows he’s a Stilinski at least.

The kid turns slowly, his eyes wide as he locks them with Derek.

‘’Dude,’’ the teen says with a feeling. Derek can sympathize.

‘’This is where you live? There’s - There’s nothing here! I don’t even see a bed. Your fridge is so empty it doesn’t even have a light. Does any of your lights in this apartment work?’’

Confused, Derek quietly points to the one in the bathroom. ‘’That one works,’’ he says blankly.

‘’. . . Only that one?’’

‘’Uh,’’ Derek says, ‘’Yes?’’

‘’Dude,’’ the kid says with horror. ‘’What do you eat? You look like you have bones and skin, and. . . Stubble. Very manly and uh, wolfy, but not very nutritious.’’

Getting the wits of him, Derek scowls, growling a little. He crosses his arms. ‘’What are you even doing here?’’ he snarls. ‘’How did you even get in?’’

The kid looks unimpressed. ‘’I’m a cop’s kid. I know how to pick locks. Which, by the way, my dad’s the sheriff. He’s uh, in the know now. So.’’

‘’So what?’’

‘’So,’’ the kid says, ‘’You don’t need to hide in a place like this anymore. We know you’re a werewolf, and the Argent douche is a hunter, but dad will keep you safe. He’s not letting Argent mess with any of us, so I’m sure he’d be happy to help you out too. So, you know, move to a better apartment, get some food and clothes and stuff.’’

Derek blinks. ‘’I live here,’’ he says, uncomprehending. He doesn’t have any money to get a better apartment. He doesn’t live this way because he wants to.

‘’Well, yeah, but can’t you like, move somewhere else? You have money, I know, because I, um, might have seen the police file and the um, amount of money you got from the uh . . .’’ Death of you family, the kid doesn’t finish, but Derek hears it loud and clear. He looks away, the loss of it all hitting him renew.

‘’I don’t have any money,’’ he grits out. ‘’My sister. . . She’s got it all.’’

‘’Oh, uh, cool,’’ the kid says, swaying on his heels. ‘’So where is she? Do you want me to help you find her?’’

Derek snorts humorlessly. ‘’I know where she is,’’ he murmurs, hugging himself. ‘’And that’s where I hope I would be too.’’

The kid blinks. ‘’. . .And where is that?’’

‘’In a grave,’’ he answers roughly, ‘’and all the better for it.’’

The kid takes a few fumbled steps backwards. ‘’She’s dead? She uh, who - ‘’

‘’My uncle,’’ Derek sighs, and suddenly he’s weary, defeated. He comes to the living room, charting away from the kid and slumping against one of the walls, sliding it down so that he’s sitting on the floor.

‘’Everyone is dead. There’s noone left but me.’’

The kid frowns, whispering, ‘’That’s rough.’’ He comes to sit next to Derek, mimicking his position. They’re both quiet for a while, the moon filtering through the curtainless window, revealing the dust speckles swarming the floor.

Abruptly, the kid stands up. ‘’I know what to do,’’ he says to nobody in particular, and then looks down at Derek and winks. ‘’Just wait here. I’ll be back.’’

The kid dashes to the door, only stopping to excitedly tell Derek, ‘’My name’s Stiles by the way. And I’ll be back so just sit tight, mister. I’m gonna - Yeah, this is going to be good, just wait - ‘’ And then he’s gone.

All that’s left of the guy is mixed smells that permeate Derek’s den. He waits a couple hours, but the kid doesn’t come back. So he goes to sleep, already regretting not getting any essays done. But that’s a problem for tomorrow.

---

When Derek gets home late the next day, there are strangers again in his apartment. This time it’s multiple someones. He doesn’t bother going quietly like last time, because he can smell the pack of wolves and they probably already know he’s coming.

Stiles is the one who opens the door before he has time to fish out his keys, and he’s beaming, ushering Derek inside.

Derek stops just shy of Stiles getting the door closed. He blinks dumbly at the sight that greets him. There are lights on everywhere at the apartment. There’s a fucking rug on his hallway, and he can see furniture in the living room, peeking from the corners. Stiles comes from behind him, pushing him more inside. At first he’s greeted by Sheriff Stilinski. The man is in his uniform, his face apologetic and reassuring.

‘’Mr. Hale,’’ he says, extending his hand. ‘’I have heard from my son that you are someone I can come to if I have any questions about the supernatural. I’ve been educated within the past four months, but information from a person who’s clearly more knowledgeable than my son’s friends or our town’s cryptic vet would be appreciated. And,’’ he says, bringing Derek into a comfortable hug, ‘’I’m very sorry for your loss son. I knew your family. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always available.’’

Then the man extracts himself and offers a smile. ‘’And call me John, son. I’l be sure to have my number in your cellphone after tonight.’’

‘’Derek,’’ Derek says in response. ‘’And uh, I don’t have a phone.’’

‘’You do now!’’ Stiles pipes up. Derek looks over, and then he sees the herd of teenagers that are the wolves he’s been seeing around town.

‘’I’m Isaac Lahey,’’ the first kid, Isaac, says. ‘’Nice to meet you.’’ He doesn’t offer his hand, but nods shyly. Derek knows him. He’d listened to the kid get beaten up more often than not, and even went to threaten the kid’ father a couple times. It’s nice to see Isaac to not be in pain or scared.

‘’Derek,’’ he offers in response.

‘’I’m Erica, and this is my best friend Boyd,’’ the blond, white teen says, and points to the guy behind her. Derek nods at them.

‘’And I’m uh, Scott McCall. And I um, wanted to . . .’’ the kid whines in protest when Stiles jabs him in the side, but lowers his head. ‘’I’m sorry I was rude to you when we met. You tried to help me and I was being an idiot. I would like to start from a clean slate, and um, offer you a place in my pack. That is, if you want it.’’

Derek looks around. There are two sofas and a coffee table, a couple rugs and a bed. Even red curtains have made an appearance, and he can smell food in his kitchen that he knows wasn’t there before.

‘’Why all this? You don’t even know me. I don’t know you,’’ Derek says, baffled.

Stiles shrugs. ‘’It’s Christmas time and that is a time of giving? Because dude, I’ve seen you brooding away, thinking we don’t see when you look at us. I kind of know now what wolves need, and wolves need a pack. And you don’t have one. And we rejected you when you tried to form one with us, but we regret that. Because leaving someone alone after so much tragedy is, well, pretty much a punishable crime to me. So.’’ The kid spreads his hand. ‘’Here we are, if you want us. And you don’t even have to decide now. Just, think about it. Get to know us, let us get to know you. Let the odd ones gather into one big, smoochy family.’’

There are groans from the others, and the sheriff facepalms so hard, Derek hears the slap sound it makes, as the man’s palm hits against skin.

Derek hugs himself, already feeling a little bit better at having someone similar to him, someone with the same set of instincts than him be near him. Fill his den with their scents.

‘’I’ll think about it,’’ he promises, and Stiles fist pumps. Then the teens start carrying food from the kitchen, and Derek can’t help but think that, yeah. Maybe Laura will have to wait for awhile before Derek joins him.

Just for a little while.

#eternalsterek #sterek #appreciate derek hale #my writing #kulkuri writes ficlets

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