I shouldn't have to repeat myself, but: guess who people won't take money from? I can't buy the stuff I'd need to fix it and it's just. Not worth dragging someone who can just to fix a light. Well, it wasn't worth it until now.
Why would I tell you I'm in trouble if I'm not technically in trouble? Anyway, I haven't actually tried to get up yet. Actually that's a lie. I did try. And it sucks a lot. Like I could probably just push through it but I'm not super into the possibility of a round two So I'd rather not get up until I can really, clearly see where I'm putting my feet down So if you could just be a pal and bring me a flashlight, I would really, really appreciate it
Wait, you asked a question, sorry I was working on a better map of the down and kind of stumbled across these caves So I figured I'd check them out Super dark, but there's a hot spring. Like way deep in the cave. Which I am not anymore. I was actually making my way back. But it's definitely still really dark and it's starting to freak me out a little so if you could like Put a rush on that flashlight And come with me to buy some Ibuprofen so someone will actually take my money
I'm coming now. Moving as fast as I can. You should've called me before you went in. This is exactly what I'm here for. Hiking, cave-diving, all of that. I know how to do it. I was designed to survive in nature. What's the point of dating a werewolf if you're going to do shit like this on your own? Fuck, for that matter - What would you have done if your phone didn't have reception down there? You could have fallen harder than you did. You could have been knocked out. Could have died. I wouldn't have known where you were. I wouldn't have been able to find you, if things went wrong. This was careless. And stupid.
You really wanna talk about being careless and stupid, Mr. Handcuffed-To-A-Table-How-Many-Times? If my phone lost signal I would have turned around, because I'm not actually an idiot, Derek. It's not like I stood at the mouth of these caves and thought "huh, you know what, I'm gonna turn this into a hiking trip, and I'm definitely not gonna tell Derek about it, because screw that guy", so you can stop making it sound like I did this on purpose. I just wanted to know what was inside, and I just happened to slip Someone has literally flipped my jeep over before while I was still inside of it, all right? This is nothing
But whatever, I'll call you to get your permission every time I want to do anything from this point forward So you can stop with the guilt tripping
[ that's not guilt tripping, stiles. you feel guilty all on your own. ]
This isn't nothing to me. This isn't about "permission". We're supposed to do everything together. That's the whole point of our contract. We're supposed to be Derek and Stiles. Why should I bother having your back if you're going to just - make dangerous decisions like this on a whim? But no, you're right. Again. Completely agree. I'm sorry for thinking that getting stranded and injured somewhere dark and dangerous is worth worrying about. I should have known that my behaviour at the fort was worse than this. Definitely worth bringing it up again. Really happy that that's where we are.
[ well now there's guilt tripping. derek walks a little faster. still sick of this fucking apartment. can't wait until the new place is finalized, even if he is salty at stiles right now. ]
And - What do you mean - flipped over your jeep while you were still inside?
[ it works, though. stiles shuts up for a minute because he is rightfully tripped up with guilt. objectively, this was kind of stupid. in hindsight, now that he's laid out on the floor of a cave in the dark with literally nothing but his phone, this was... kind of dumb.
but he wasn't anticipating anything other than like - creepy sounds, maybe a bat, and definitely nothing interesting or worthy of making a note of deep in the cave. he wasn't even planning to look around for that long.
it takes about a solid minute and a half before stiles exits out of a weirdly sexual version of temple run he pulled up just for the purpose of ignoring derek and his stupid logic. ]
No, actually. You're right.
[ and that's all stiles has to say about all of that, apparently, at least for now. he doesn't want to argue, doesn't have the energy for it, doesn't really have much else to say after admitting he made a mistake here. he'll probably apologize, later. ]
It's exactly what it sounds like. Someone flipped my jeep over while I was in it. Like, grabbed the back bumper, picked it up, flipped it over the front end. Didn't exactly come with much of a warning.
[ kind of like the stupid algae-rock. ]
Like I said. A bruised tailbone isn't the worst. Possibly shattered tailbone, but still.
I'm sending a pin for my location. Let me know if you don't get it and I can just try to direct you.
[ derek's - paranoid, so the minute that passes is pretty fucking excruciating, because once some of his anger bleeds away, he's left assuming the worst. maybe stiles isn't answering because his phone died, maybe someone else found him, like a veracity guard or a hunter or a dom that wants stiles for themself. when stiles keeps talking, sends him the pin, it's a relief, but boy, he feels guilty over everything he just said. ]
It's okay. It sent. I won't be long.
[ i'm sorry for getting upset, he wants to say, but he's still prickly, and he's never been great at stowing his temper when it snaps. derek just... focuses on walking, focuses on getting to the elevator. he makes it in, but he has to wait for other people to board to head to the down, and they're taking so long. he feels like snapping some necks. ]
You need to tell me about everything that happens back home. Soon. If I wake up in Beacon Hills tomorrow, and I remember everything that happened here - I won't know what to protect you from.
[ but that's not something he should be bringing up now. just - fuck. paranoia. ]
I mean - I'm assuming that's what attacked you and Roscoe. A threat. Not just some random beefy guy with too much time on his hands.
I know. I will. I want to. I don't want to mess up again.
[ like he did with allison. liiike he did just now, exploring this cave by himself without letting derek know.
the creepy, drippy cave sounds paired with the near-pitch darkness is starting to freak stiles out a little more. he still has the light from his phone, but he's already had to turn down the brightness to conserve his battery - it's not dangerously low, but he doesn't know how long it's actually going to take derek to come and get him and he doesn't want to risk it - which means the light only reaches so far before everything is just. dark. super dark, pitch black, almost the way stiles imagines being completely blind would be.
his anxiety climbs a little with the thought, and he swallows hard, and just to kind of fill the eerie almost-silence, he starts to hum a random song under his breath, something his dad used to sing to his mom like a big ol' idiot, just to make her smile. it's a sad memory, but it also soothes him somewhat. ]
It was a cop, actually. A cop who's also a hellhound, but. Irony, you know. He wasn't exactly aware of what he was doing. At least not like, the human, law-abiding part of him, anyway. Still sucked though.
[ more and more, derek fees like he's saying the wrong things. making stiles feel worse about the situation than he already does, making him remember allison, making digs without meaning to. he's just... frustrated. the elevator's moving so fucking slowly, and one of the subs next to him is crying, and there's a woman with sharp elbows standing closer to him than she needs to. his temper keeps flaring up, making him want to lash out. ]
Why would a Hellhound be in Beacon Hills?
[ and he won't, he refuses to, but he still asks a question that he probably shouldn't ask just yet. he knows it ties into all the things stiles has to tell him, and that's a conversation better had face to face, they've already decided that. something about it makes him uneasy, though - there shouldn't be anything other than werewolves, in beacon hills. if he thinks too hard, he'll think of the nemeton.
the elevator doors open up, finally, and derek powerwalks towards the pin on his map, away from dusty and filthy streets and towards the edge of civilization. if you could call the down "civilization". he types out a message to stiles, but it's distracted and only half-there while he focuses on moving. ]
Sure he wasn't a Hellpig? Cops. Pigs. You get it. Something. Sorry. Stupid. I hope I kicked that guy's ass for you.
Turns out we're home to a very popular tree. Well, the stump. But also, I guess they're supposed to like Protect places with high occurrences of supernatural activity. I don't know, something like that.
I think you mean Hellhog.
[ there's a beat, here, in which stiles contemplates what he says next. not for the first time, he thinks about how different things might have been if derek had been there. would derek have believed him about theo? would derek have been there, when parrish flipped his jeep over and left him to potentially burn to death?
his humming stops for a handful of seconds as he draws in a deep breath and then blows it out, then picks back up again. ]
You'd already left by then. Anyway, it wasn't really his fault. He didn't have control over that part of himself. And we were the ones who set him up anyway. I mean we didn't know he was the one we were waiting for, but we put ourselves in the way.
[ great - okay. he knows what that means, he knows what that implies. he's not exactly ready to confront the idea that the nemeton is alive again, doesn't want to think about his involvement in that. he doesn't have a clear enough head to piece together how, exactly, it started pulling people in, even though he'd have enough information to do it, between stiles telling him about his father and what he learned from his mother before she stripped away the location of the root cellar from his memories.
he keeps walking, getting faster. stiles' pin isn't at the entrance of the cave, so going straight for it would lead to a rocky outcrop and very little else, but he's close enough now to be able to track stiles' scent. he follows it to the entrance of the cave system, heads inside, lights up his eyes and strains his canine hearing. ]
Sounds like something you'd do. I'm here, by the way. I think I can hear you. 500 Miles? If that's not you, there's a very Scottish ghost in this cave.
[ stiles' phone buzzes in his hand with another text, banner notification dropping down from the top of the screen as he scrolls idly through the network just to pass the time, keep himself occupied. he taps the notification with his thumb so it takes him straight to his messages, and as he reads, his humming leads into a quiet laugh.
he lifts his head up - he really is just sprawled out on the cave floor, back slightly arched by the rock tucked underneath him, legs stretched out. too casual for a dark cave, but what is there to do? he could probably get up if he really, really tried, but despite all of the shit he's gone through in the last two years, his tolerance for pain is kind of low.
plus, he really just doesn't want to slip again. ]
It's me.
[ and then, just to help derek out a little more, he repeats it out loud, turning his phone outward so the light shines away from him for a moment. ]
It's me. Uh, this way. [ he wiggles his phone a little, as if derek honestly needs to follow a light, and strains his ears a little to see if he can hear any approaching footsteps. ] You know that song?
[ stiles laughs. derek can hear it, deep behind winding rocks, and his scent is familiar and warm and easy to find through the rusty smell of grime and dirt and earth. he follows after him, stepping over unsteady ground and going deeper into the tunnels, and maybe it would be kind of scary to be approached in pitch black by two glowing, red eyes, but. stiles is probably used to them, by now. he hopes he is, at least.
derek keeps walking until he sees the dull glow of stiles' phone, then pulls out his own again, swiping his thumb over the lockscreen and turning on the flashlight. he lights stiles up and he really is... just... chilling, and that's kind of annoying, but given how hard his heartbeat had been spiking and how much he'd been panicking over what he might see, this is fine. maybe he overreacted, earlier. ]
Of course I know that song. I was only born in '88, Jesus. I'm not that out of touch.
[ he bends on his knees once he's close enough to stiles, offering him his phone and then just - waiting, one arm half-outstretched, like he wants to scoop him up but doesn't know if he should. because that is exactly how he's feeling. he wants to just pick stiles up, sling him over his shoulder and carry him out, which is - and don't get it twisted - absolutely, 100% what he's going to do, but.
he needs to check on stiles before that happens. the idiot could really be hurt, and derek doesn't want to make him feel any worse by moving him in a way he's not ready for. derek hesitates, then lowers his arm, setting it on stiles side and making eye contact. he opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. ]
[ between derek and scott, stiles is pretty used to red, glowing eyes, but there's still this split second of panic, of oh god, oh god please be derek when derek rounds the corner near the end of the tunneled path. just a very tiny, very quick spike of fear that's there and gone in the space of a single breath, and then he immediately calms, up until derek shines the light from his phone in stiles' face. it's a stark contrast from the darkness stiles has been laying in for at least thirty minutes now, bright enough that it kind of burns a little.
stiles squints his eyes shut and lifts one hand to shield them, palm turned outward. he scoffs a little at derek's comment about the song, because that isn't exactly what he meant - it's just... not a song stiles would guess derek might recognize, even hummed - but he decides not to clarify. he just wants to get out of these caves and into clothes that aren't damp, pop some pain killers. maybe take a nap. everything feels kind of tight and sore.
stiles pushes up onto his elbows when derek kneels, wincing only slightly as something twinges in his lower back. he looks - mostly fine. his hair's a little disheveled and kind of limp against his forehead, weighed down by the thick moisture in the air, and he's got a little smear of grainy dirt by the edge if his jaw. he looks a bit tired, but that's not exactly out of the ordinary.
stiles presses his lips together into a thin line, and it's not quite a smile, but it's a good indicator of his embarrassment and mild shame. he shifts his weight onto one elbow long enough to tuck his phone away in a pocket before taking derek's from him. he angles the light slightly away from the both of them so it's not quite so blinding, but still illuminates derek's face in a soft glow. his eyes shift subtly back and forth between derek's.
stiles only had to text him once, and derek came. he didn't have to play phone tag, didn't have to wonder if and when derek was going to see his messages, didn't have to wonder if he was too busy, he just - immediately answered, immediately showed up. immediately cared, and that shouldn't surprise stiles, but it does. no offense to scott, but stiles is just - not used to that kind of loyalty and attention.
he softens a little, shoulders drooping a little as he sinks back into the brace of his elbows. ]
Sorry. I - didn't mean to. In hindsight— [ he pauses. stiles isn't often wrong, but he's not the type of person to pretend he doesn't make mistakes even when they're staring him in the face. and there's no denying that he didn't think this through, letting impulse and curiosity guide him instead of caution and logic. ] In hindsight this was - pretty careless. You're right.
[ stiles lightly grazes his fingers against derek's arm. ]
Think you can help me up? Sitting up hurts like a bitch and this rock in my back is doing me zero favors right now.
[ ah, right - stiles winces when the light shines in his eyes, and derek's an idiot for not realizing that would happen. he grimaces apologetically, though he doesn't exactly expect stiles to be able to see his expression in the dark, and he follows through on kneeling and fussing and not knowing the best way to get the two of them back out of here.
stiles apologizes. more than that, stiles apologizes despite looking embarrassed and injured and small, and even though a part of derek still thinks he was right to get angry, the rest of him is ashamed over making this poor guy guilty while he was isolated and vulnerable and hurt. stiles' fingers touch his arm and derek's eyes glow a little brighter. ]
It wasn't. You slipped. I overreacted.
[ he shakes his head, because he doesn't want to fight about who between them is more sorry, and he slowly pulls his arm back, letting it hover between them as he tries to figure out how to pick stiles up without hurting him. ]
I know you're smart enough to take initiative on things without consulting me. Just... scared me. Sounds stupid, out loud.
[ he shrugs one shoulder, then just - commits. he thinks it'll be easy enough to support stiles without directly touching any sensitive bruising if he really does just carry him like he wants to, so that's what he does. he mumbles something that sounds like hold on, but he doesn't offer any warnings, other than that.
he taps stiles' thigh, quietly urges him to close his legs, then slips one arm beneath his knees when he does. the other he curls behind stiles' lower back, holding him tight, and then he just... stands, again, bringing stiles up with him in both arms. stiles isn't as skinny as he used to be, but he's still very much human, and derek apparently doesn't have any problem lifting him. dude's still light enough to manhandle.
also, before stiles starts complaining, derek's gonna cut him off, already taking slow steps back the way he came. thankfully, there aren't too many steep drops to climb and they'll only have to make a few turns before light from the outside filters in again, so - ]
I'll put you down when we're outside, so. Chill. Pre-emptively.
[ he's not going to let stiles walk around in the dark while he's hurt. smart or not, the idiot still slipped. ]
[ derek admitting he might have overreacted isn't exactly an apology, but stiles interprets it as one. he still feels like he should apologize about bringing up the fort - derek didn't deserve that, and stiles is past it, over it, glad, mostly, that derek made it out okay even after being shot - but right now it feels like they're back on equal ground so stiles leaves it for later, makes himself a little mental note.
he shakes his head lightly, letting his fingers drag gently as derek pulls his arm back, murmuring mostly to himself that it doesn't sound stupid, and that at least I know I can rely on you. which stiles already knew, has already known for a while now, but the confirmation is nice.
stiles moves his knees together, the heel of one sneaker scraping quietly against wet stone as he drags his leg in closer. he breathes in deep and then just kind of holds it like he's bracing himself for something - pain and discomfort, probably -, recognizing that he's about to be picked up when derek tucks one arm behind his knees. he reaches up to hook one arm over derek's shoulder, draping it over the back of his neck, and keeps the flashlight out of both of their eyes with the other, ignoring the moderate, throbbing pain from his lower back to the very end of his spine. derek probably doesn't need the light with his super fancy werewolf eyesight, but stiles feels a little more comfortable keeping it on.
he's about to complain, though. as soon as he realizes derek isn't immediately putting him down, he opens his mouth to protest that his legs aren't broken and that he isn't a damsel and he isn't in enough distress for it to count, but derek cuts him off and he's left holding onto him with his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows lifted.
being told to chill when one is already chilled has never worked in the history of - ever. stiles closes his mouth, effectively called out and, admittedly, mildly amused that derek knows him well enough to predict his behavior before it happens. he clears his throat in a totally dignified way, and resigns himself to being carried like a bride by a werewolf through a dark cave. ]
You chill preemptively.
[ good one, nailed that, sick burn. stiles cranes the flashlight back and forth, moving his hand from left to right and left again like a very slow sprinkler. he trusts derek's eyesight and his reflexes, so it's mostly out of curiosity that he points the light anywhere and everywhere, looking for anything of interest he may have missed in the duller light from his phone screen on the way in. ]
So there's a hot spring, like - way back there. Which is kind of cool, except there's no light? I mean there were some candle stubs around the edges, but what's that gonna do? Something about swimming around in black water really - [ his shoulders vibrate with a quick shiver ] - really creeps me out.
[ unsurprisingly, derek's completely deadpan when stiles hits him back with a hefty no you, paying more attention to where he's stepping and how stiles feels in his arms than engaging in an actual conversation. a hot spring makes sense - the air here is damp, but not cold, and the way some of the rocks smell like rain didn't make sense for derek, given that they're underground.
but that explains it. candle stubs. that bothers him, because that's proof that other people have been down here before. derek drops his eyes to his feet, reflexively pulling stiles closer, holding him tighter. the cave didn't feel claustrophobic until stiles brought up candle stubs. he can't smell anyone, but that only makes him feel more anxious. ]
Sounds like a horror movie. Bunch of horny teens sneak out to the old caves, make out in the hotsprings while their parents are away on business. Accidentally wake up an eldritch monster hidden in the caverns by partying too hard. The homeless serial killer everyone thought was dead crawls out of the dark to join in.
[ derek realizes that stiles is idly checking the place out, so he slows his walk a little, just to give him time to double check. for the most part, he doesn't want to rush stiles and fuck up his investigation, however cursory it might be, but. more immediately, he doesn't want to run back to the entrance so fast that stiles feels convinced that he could have missed something on the way out. the last thing derek needs is for stiles to sneak back here at 3AM and get stuck again.
but whatever, it's fine. he feels safer, now that stiles is in his arms, so he doesn't mind taking it easy. ]
I don't like that other people have been here. They could've just been curious, like you, but.
[ but the candles make it sound like they'd stayed here for a while, and candles by the hot springs makes it sounds like they came here to relax, and that shouldn't unsettle him, but it does. there are tons of vampires around here who wouldn't care about the dark - maybe they found the place, hid away in the caverns, made it their own. but then why did they leave, and why aren't there more prominent signs of life around the upper levels of the cave? every vampire he's met has smelled like death. there should be some kind of trace of them.
ugh. derek's voice sounds too loud, suddenly, echoing among the clay. he keeps it quiter, though it doesn't make much of a difference. ]
But maybe not. You think this place is worth keeping an eye on?
[ the more derek talks about basically every cheesy horror movie plot, the more creeped out stiles starts to feel and the more stiles just wants to be out of the caves. it's not that he's scared - though that is a small part of it, and that's fine, because it's okay to be unsettled by the unknown - but moreso that if, for whatever reason, there does happen to be some kind of cave monster lurking in the dark water of the hot springs, or some crazed serial killer everyone seems to have forgotten about lurking around in the hollow caverns - stiles is completely unprepared to face either one of those things. he doesn't have his bat, he doesn't have any mountain ash (as if that would be useful against anything other than derek), he doesn't have the gun he picked up off a guard back in fort harmony when everyone was in a mad rush for freedom.
he's completely defenseless, and he doesn't like the thought of not being able to protect derek even half of as much as derek could protect him if everything were to suddenly go to shit right now.
but it's probably fine. there probably isn't a massive, ugly squid-creature waiting at the bottom of the spring. probably. hopefully.
stiles does his best to ignore the unease settling in his gut. he hadn't really given too much thought to the candles, figuring it was just - the easiest source of transportable light outside of a cellphone, but— but why not just use a cell phone? turn on the light, build a solid, dry base with a folded up piece of clothing, prop it up against a rock. stiles can't imagine a couple scattered candles would do much to alleviate the heavy, pitch black darkness. a torch, maybe, but a handful of candles?
stiles wets his lips, holding his light steady and static now, his fingers absently pinching some of the material of derek's shirt by his shoulder, rubbing it between his fingertips as he thinks. ]
... I don't know. It seems kind of weird, doesn't it? Like - why candles? And they're all mostly burned down to the base, too. If people are coming down here that often, why not bring a more practical light source, like battery powered lanterns, or just. A couple cell phones - turn on the flashlights, set them up in a dry-ish place.
[ stiles breathes out through his nose, idly chewing at the corner of his mouth in lieu of chewing at his nails because neither of his hands are really free enough for him to do so. ]
It could just be - I don't know, people trying to be romantic. Candlelight. Privacy. But something— it doesn't— I just get this... weird feeling.
[ a feeling he can't really explain or back up with actual, unquestionable evidence to support his unease, but it's similar to every other time he's had a bad feeling about something. stiles doesn't want to brush it off, but he doesn't want to fuel his paranoia, either, if paranoia is all it turns out to be. ]
It just seems... strange, that there's nothing else but the candles. Even organized people are forgetful sometimes, and I could barely see even with what little light I had - but you'd think there'd be something someone might have overlooked when picking up their things to head out, right? Like - maybe jewelry they took off, or a sock, or wrappers from a snack they brought down with them. Matches. A lighter.
[ it's probably nothing. stiles is probably making something out of nothing right now, spurred on by derek's recount of every shitty horror movie. he lets go of where he's pinching at derek's shirt, only just realizing he's plucking at it, and lets his fingers rest gently over the curve of his shoulder instead. ]
It's — it's probably nothing. Horny teenagers sneaking around, too worried about their phones getting water damage. Not everyone can buy a bag of rice, I guess.
[ the last thing derek wanted to do was scare stiles. part of why he'd decided to screw around and bring up potential freddy kreugers and nightmare squid friends was because he'd hoped for the opposite effect, actually - taking the piss out of something unsettling seemed like a better way of dealing with his own apprehension than actually confronting it.
but every point stiles makes is right, and derek doesn't walk any faster, not yet, but he does shuffle his grip around stiles' back so that he can hold him firmer, tilting his head just an inch or two down so he can breathe in the comforting smell of his hair. stiles used derek's shampoo again, and - he's not going to get hard, not when jason fucking voorhees is probably standing behind them crying about his life into his hockey mask, or something, but there is a leap in his chest that makes him forget, momentarily, where he is.
the candles are a problem. stiles keeps talking over himself, and derek lets him, for the most part, but when that's the note he ends on, derek feels he has to speak up. ]
No. You've always been perceptive, and now you've had years of practice honing your intuition. You're the sheriff's son, for fuck's sake. If your gut's telling you that something's wrong, then something's probably wrong.
[ back home, derek hasn't gotten to the point where he's willing to blindly follow stiles into the dark, but he's getting close. it's a different story, in duplicity. he can see stiles' intelligence for what it is, and if there are clues here, derek doesn't want to dismiss them so easily. they'll keep the cave on the map. they'll figure this out together. ]
We can talk about this when we're outside. I'm gonna walk a little faster, so - hold on tight.
[ there's an uneven step in the cave where two flat rocks meet, and derek has to do a little hop to get over it. he does it quick, because he's scared of jostling stiles around and irritating his injury too much, and then it's a pretty clear stretch to the mouth of the cave. he walks in long, careful strides, minding his footsteps like he wants to keep them quiet, now that they've breached the possibility that this might be somebody else's territory. the candles are burned down to the base, just like stiles said. horny teenagers wouldn't need to sneak around in bonertown. someone's been in that cave a lot, but derek can only smell the earth. that feels wrong.
they make it outside and derek doesn't put stiles down, even though he said he would. he walks away from the cave until he's not feeling sandstone or dirt half as much as he's feeling grass, and when he turns to look back at it, he keeps stiles pulled close to his chest. he'll have to actually ask derek to let him go before he does. ]
[ again, derek is supportive. derek backs up stiles' mostly-baseless theories without question and it's just - strange. it's a strange feeling to be blindly supported by anyone who's not his father (and even then, sometimes the sheriff isn't quick to jump on stiles' side, but the history there is different), and it strikes him so deeply that all he can do for a few long seconds is look at derek. he stares at the side of his face, not necessarily wide-eyed, but just... quietly awed, his eyebrows gently drawn toward one another, the tips of his fingers flexing lightly against the muscle of derek's shoulder.
maybe scott's betrayal is still too fresh for stiles. it's been months, between home and here, and he and scott made up - but it was never going to be that easy to let it go, not for stiles. not when he'd tried time and time again to warn his friends that things weren't adding up, not when he'd provided actual evidence to back up his suspicions. not when he was right, and still almost lost everything and everyone anyway. scott had believed theo over stiles, hadn't even stopped to ask him what had really happened. theo told scott he was a murderer, and scott believed him without question despite everything stiles had tried to make them see. took the word of a stranger, and basically kicked stiles out of the pack for it.
stiles says one thing, makes a bunch of small observances, says he feels weird about it - and derek believes him. derek trusts him, acknowledges that he's not just full of shit all the time. stiles kind of wants to kiss him for it - just on the cheek, something quick, but he fights the impulse and just silently reminds himself that he's very, very lucky.
stiles curls his fingers tight around derek's phone and maneuvers his other arm around derek's shoulders at his warning, light pointed outward behind him. he tenses a little in anticipation of some greater pain, but it's not so bad on the other side of derek's short hop. he knows that he shouldn't, but something compels him to turn his head to look back over derek's shoulder, still shining the light somewhere from behind derek's neck.
there's nothing there but heavy darkness blurring the edges of the light, and that same, nagging feeling of something more. something that isn't right about the candles, about the lack of anything else. maybe he should have gone deeper.
maybe derek wouldn't have been able to find him, if he had.
stiles breathes a little easier once they're out of the cave, feeling a lot less claustrophobic now that they're out in the open. or, as open as being in the down can get. he unwinds one of his arms so he can swipe his thumb up from the bottom of the screen to turn off the light on derek's phone now that it isn't necessary for either of them. after a beat, he taps another icon, then holds the phone up, and he snaps a photo of the mouth of the cave. just in case.
it takes him a couple of seconds to realize derek hasn't put him down yet. which is actually kind of fine, if he's honest, because he's kind of dreading standing up and walking, but at the same time, he doesn't really want to be seen being carried across the down and through the up, like some kind of helpless loser. like — like a submissive, who is only allowed to go where his dominant takes him. which is dumb, because that's probably not even what it would look like. people probably wouldn't even care.
stiles clears his throat. he lightly touches the edge of derek's phone to his own chin and raises his eyebrows a little, wetting his lips before pressing them together. ]
Derek, [ he starts. calm, casual, nonchalant. he taps the phone against his chin twice, kicks one of his feet lazily, and then quickly stops that because it pulls at some sore muscles. ] You can put me down. You said you'd put me down. Outside. Which we are. Currently.
[ lies have an intimate relationship with this city. every inch of duplicity is based on or profits off of dishonesty, and derek's lost a lot of his initial fire when it comes to dealing with it. he's tired. dishonesty breeds in this city faster than rats, and it's funny that after what feels like a life time of shutting down and trusting no one and assuming the worst, it's a place as filthy as this that's started to bring out the best in derek.
back home, he couldn't see the better qualities in stiles. he was too quickly blinded by a need to protect him and scott without stopping to ask if they needed him, and then he was too quickly frustrated by his youthful ignorance to treat him like someone capable of critical thought. here - he trusts stiles as much as he trusts himself. he trusts stiles more than he trusts himself. he's quicker to listen, quicker to ask for help, quicker to apologize, even if it's all still a little hard to do, sometimes. he hopes stiles doesn't think he's been too much of a dick.
now that they're back in the down, he lets his eyes spill back into hazel, the red disappearing like the moon behind clouds. stiles reminds him of his promise, tapping at his chin with his phone, and that's annoying, but not enough to stoke a reaction. derek just stares ahead into nothing, contemplative. he acts like he can't hear stiles, but he senses the twinge of pain in stiles, and that gets his attention. he looks oddly... stubborn, when he's pulled away from his thoughts. ]
Mm.
[ yes. correct. he did say that he would put stiles down. he did say that. this is true. stiles is right.
derek's not going to put him down.
... okay, fine, okay, yes, fine. okay. he will. maybe. he just needs a second to ramp up to it, because he's a little afraid of hurting stiles by not being careful enough. slaps over the head, mild insults, that's one thing - but derek doesn't know how bad stiles' injury really is yet, and he's afraid of doing something to make it worse. a strained few seconds pass before he relents, but there's anxiety bubbling in his stomach as he frets over doing this right. ]
Fine.
[ reluctantly - very, very reluctantly - derek sets stiles down, moving slow and keeping close. it's clumsy, how he does it, because he sinks his knees down and stiffly maneuvers himself into an uncomfortable position so stiles doesn't have to bend his back when he gets up, but then he stands, and stiles can stand, too. derek looks at him for all of two seconds before deciding this was a bad idea. ]
You're in pain. I can tell. We need to get you home.
[ derek frowns, eyebrows together in the middle, and he's standing straight, but he has his hands half-out like he's expecting stiles to fall. rather than look like a dom and a sub wandering the down together, they probably look like an old man and his overzealous grandson. ]
[ it takes long enough for derek to even begin to put stiles down that stiles almost resigns himself to his fate as a distressed damsel being carried by the handsome hero parading the evidence of his brave rescue all over the town. he rolls his eyes and he sighs quietly and he starts to squirm just a little, arching his back a few degrees before he decides, with a sharp twinge and a tiny squeak, that that's a terrible idea.
but derek starts to set him down and it's awkward and stiles clings a little like he doesn't actually want this, but he's just. concerned about being dropped. derek is fast and he's agile and his instincts are sharp, but it's the awkward crouch and the stiffness with which derek goes about putting him down that makes him question whether or not gravity is about to drag his ass right back to the ground for a second helping of unnecessary, unfortunate pain.
he plants his feet slowly, eases some of his weight off of derek's arms, and it's - fine. it's... okay. he stands there with his shoulders heavily hunched, head bowed slightly, almost like he wants to fold in on himself. his hands shake a little as he slides derek's phone into his front pocket - he'll give it back later, once they're home, or whenever derek asks for it if it's before then - oppsite of his own phone, and then very slowly, he starts to straighten his spine.
it's not - excruciating. the pain isn't crippling by any means, and it's mostly focused around his tailbone. the muscles in his lower back are tight and tense and sore too, and something pinches a little as he stands a little taller. stiles clenches his teeth, eyes squinting slightly near the corners, and he tries to play it off.
[ but he can't even bother to mask that lie because he's super uncomfortable and it sucks. his shirt still feels warm and damp from the cave floor, clinging to his back underneath his overshirt, which is also gross. stiles sighs through his nose, and with an unfortunate look, he lazily holds one arm out toward derek, fingers spread with his palm up, unsure why derek needs his arm, but not wary enough of his intentions to ask.
gingerly, he reaches back with his other hand to pinch at his t-shirt, pulling it away from his skin. the feeling is slightly weird, and the separation just leaves his skin feeling cold. he shivers, which also sucks and draws a terse little grunt out of him, and then very presses his fingertips against the muscles in his lower back, squinting up at derek. ]
... Ibuprofen. Please. You can have all of the money I have left, I don't care.
[ all of the money stiles has left, after everything he's already handed over to derek to put towards the new place, is going to have to go towards things like - an actual bed, some food, maybe some smaller furniture like a book case and/or a used love seat. toiletries. house stuff. but a couple dollars spent on pain killers isn't going to put them in the hole. ]
[ the squirming, the squeaking, the way stiles needs a second to straighten out his spine and tentatively feel out how bad his injury might be - it all worries derek, who watches stiles manage his weight and stammer over his stupid-ass lie with open concern. he needs to get him home. when stiles offers him money, derek can't tell if he's joking or not, but he gets annoyed all the same. ]
Fuck off. I don't care about money. I care about you.
[ he brought the drugs, solely because stiles told him to, but - he doesn't exactly trust the drugs here to do what they say they will on the tin. not after the fort. spiking stiles with viagra while he's nursing bruised bones and a potentially bruised ego doesn't seem like the best way to end today, so he offers something else, instead.
stiles holds out his arm, and derek steps closer. he takes stiles' wrist in one hand, just to hold him steady, then grips his forearm with the other. they're still in public, and a quiet, scratchy part of derek's brain is telling him to at least drag stiles back into the cave and out of sight if they're going to do this, but he's impatient and he's worried and he doesn't want to waste any more time.
and then - derek takes stiles' pain. it pulls itself from his veins and coils up through derek's blood in dark, black tendrils, and derek gets tense and sweaty from the effort of it. he can feel the dull ache that stiles is going through transfer into his own body, and he holds stiles' arm a little tighter just in case he tries to pull away. derek closes his eyes when he needs the time to focus, and in twenty, maybe thirty seconds, the black ropes in his arm fade and blend into the rest of his bloodstream.
derek sighs. he lets go, running his thumb over stiles' wrist, soft and reassuring. he opens his eyes, looks at stiles, and he's a little sweaty, a little sore, but he's okay. stiles should be okay now, too. ]
You really scared me.
[ he's repeating himself, mumbling quietly under his breath, but. it's true. derek wets his lips, fishes his hand into his pocket. he's light-headed and sort of lethargic after taking stiles' pain, so he's moving slower than normal, but he fishes out the ibuprofen he promised and curls the packaging in stiles' hand. in case he still wants them for later. ]
[ stiles has half the mind to argue that it's not about money, it's about - equality, or something like that. about not being allowed to buy anything on his own even when he can afford it (and he can afford a couple single-dose packets of pain killers, thank you), and having to rely on derek for... practically anything and everything. which honestly isn't necessarily a bad thing, because relying on each other is just - what they do. stiles just wants to be able to pay for the things he wants and needs with his own money, even if derek is always going to have to be the one to hand it over.
but derek also tells him that he cares about him, and that kind of chases away any desire to argue. it's not as if it's the first time derek's ever said that he cares, but it still feels good. sometimes it's just nice to hear it, to be reminded.
stiles' mouth thins out, like he wants to be kind of mad at derek, but also like he's trying to stave off a pleased little smile. he breathes out a heavy sigh, and then - immediately starts to brace himself as derek closes both of his hands around his arm, one around his wrist, and the other around his forearm. he assumes derek is about to drag his ass through the city, glad that stiles is relatively okay (obviously), but still fed up with him in general. he opens his mouth, about to stammer through a panicky protest about how he's sore and stiff and power-walking is his current enemy—
—but none of that happens. stiles exhales slowly, like derek's pulling the breath out of him too. stiles has had his pain drained once before - by scott, after stiles punched the jeep's engine in a surge of pent up anger and frustration - but that was minor in comparison. not that stiles is dying, but it's easier to cope with a sore hand than it is to cope with a heavily bruised tailbone and a sore lower back.
the pain eases gradually but steadily, the tension slowly melting out of his muscles and making him feel a little woozy and warm with relief. stiles lowers his head slightly as he exhales, his gaze drifting to where derek's hand is curled around his arm, veins dark and black as they reach and fade toward his elbow. it takes stiles a couple of moments to remember that whatever pain derek takes from him, he has to experience himself.
stiles lifts his head up. he takes in the thin sheen of sweat, the mild tension, the effort derek is putting in just - to make him feel better. stiles immediately tries to pull his arm out of derek's grip, just as derek predicted he would, but he doesn't put nearly enough strength behind the tug of his shoulder. his tone is quietly urgent. ]
Derek, wait—
[ he lifts his free hand, but he catches himself before he touches derek, unsure if another point of skin-to-skin contact would just push more of his pain into him, faster. even as his palm hovers near derek's elbow, his other hand curled into a loose fist, stiles' posture starts to improve in increments. his shoulders square up out of their minor slouch, his lower spine straightens out as he breathes in deep, his eyes on derek, ready to do whatever he can to yank his arm free if he thinks, even for a second, that derek is pushing himself too far.
stiles still feels a little unsteady by the time derek opens his eyes, his own eyes flickering over derek's face, his expression a mix of quiet concern and mild affection, but most of all, gratitude. he feels - good. he feels better, and it's a weird feeling, just like it was weird when scott took the throbbing pain from his hand.
derek looks soft and lazy though, and he's quiet, and stiles feels a little guilty, both for scaring derek (enough that derek has mentioned it multiple times) and for being the reason he looks as worn out as he does now. stiles lets his hand settle at derek's elbow finally, cupping his hand around the back of it and letting his palm rub slowly up the back of his bicep and then back down. ]
Sorry, big guy. I just... wanted to check it out. Didn't really think it through. [ he squeezes just above derek's elbow before letting go, his voice still on the quieter side, but trying to sound a little brighter, attempting to reassure him. ] I'm okay, though. ... Thank you.
[ even though he lets derek go, stiles' hands kind of hover for a couple moments longer as derek starts to rifle around in his pocket for something. at first, stiles thinks derek's looking for his phone, but before stiles can drop his hands so he can slide it out of his pocket to give it to him, derek presses a single-dose packet of ibuprofen into his palm.
stiles blinks at it once, twice, uncurling his fingers from around the little foil square. when he'd asked about pain killers, stiles had assumed they'd just swing by the nearest convenience store on the way home to pick something up. but not only did derek show up without hesitation when stiles said he needed him, but he showed up with what stiles asked for, presumably to minimize the amount of time stiles would have to be in pain if it weren't for derek's neat little trick.
stiles glances up from the pills and pockets them as he looks at derek. the corners of his mouth pull a little, his smile faint at first. he steps forward and twists slightly and, as casually as he can manage, he slides one arm around derek's back and lifts derek's arm, pulling it around his shoulders. he doesn't make derek lean into him, doesn't assume or imply derek needs him for support at all, but he's there all the same, just in case. stiles starts to lead them away from the caves and back toward the center of the down, his pace slow and easy. ]
You wanna take the train or the elevator? Elevator might be faster if we catch it at the right time, but - you can sit down on the train.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ and then... guilt. ]
Okay, hold on.
Fucking - lead with that? You should've told me you were in trouble.
Can you walk? Why are you in caves?
1/2
I can't buy the stuff I'd need to fix it and it's just. Not worth dragging someone who can just to fix a light.
Well, it wasn't worth it until now.
Why would I tell you I'm in trouble if I'm not technically in trouble?
Anyway, I haven't actually tried to get up yet.
Actually that's a lie. I did try.
And it sucks a lot.
Like I could probably just push through it but I'm not super into the possibility of a round two
So I'd rather not get up until I can really, clearly see where I'm putting my feet down
So if you could just be a pal and bring me a flashlight, I would really, really appreciate it
no subject
I was working on a better map of the down and kind of stumbled across these caves
So I figured I'd check them out
Super dark, but there's a hot spring.
Like way deep in the cave.
Which I am not anymore.
I was actually making my way back.
But it's definitely still really dark and it's starting to freak me out a little so if you could like
Put a rush on that flashlight
And come with me to buy some Ibuprofen so someone will actually take my money
Please
no subject
I'll get it fixed.
I'm coming now. Moving as fast as I can.
You should've called me before you went in.
This is exactly what I'm here for. Hiking, cave-diving, all of that. I know how to do it. I was designed to survive in nature.
What's the point of dating a werewolf if you're going to do shit like this on your own?
Fuck, for that matter -
What would you have done if your phone didn't have reception down there?
You could have fallen harder than you did. You could have been knocked out. Could have died.
I wouldn't have known where you were. I wouldn't have been able to find you, if things went wrong.
This was careless. And stupid.
no subject
If my phone lost signal I would have turned around, because I'm not actually an idiot, Derek.
It's not like I stood at the mouth of these caves and thought "huh, you know what, I'm gonna turn this into a hiking trip, and I'm definitely not gonna tell Derek about it, because screw that guy", so you can stop making it sound like I did this on purpose.
I just wanted to know what was inside, and I just happened to slip
Someone has literally flipped my jeep over before while I was still inside of it, all right?
This is nothing
But whatever, I'll call you to get your permission every time I want to do anything from this point forward
So you can stop with the guilt tripping
[ that's not guilt tripping, stiles. you feel guilty all on your own. ]
no subject
This isn't about "permission".
We're supposed to do everything together. That's the whole point of our contract. We're supposed to be Derek and Stiles.
Why should I bother having your back if you're going to just - make dangerous decisions like this on a whim?
But no, you're right. Again. Completely agree.
I'm sorry for thinking that getting stranded and injured somewhere dark and dangerous is worth worrying about.
I should have known that my behaviour at the fort was worse than this.
Definitely worth bringing it up again. Really happy that that's where we are.
[ well now there's guilt tripping. derek walks a little faster. still sick of this fucking apartment. can't wait until the new place is finalized, even if he is salty at stiles right now. ]
And -
What do you mean - flipped over your jeep while you were still inside?
no subject
but he wasn't anticipating anything other than like - creepy sounds, maybe a bat, and definitely nothing interesting or worthy of making a note of deep in the cave. he wasn't even planning to look around for that long.
it takes about a solid minute and a half before stiles exits out of a weirdly sexual version of temple run he pulled up just for the purpose of ignoring derek and his stupid logic. ]
No, actually.
You're right.
[ and that's all stiles has to say about all of that, apparently, at least for now. he doesn't want to argue, doesn't have the energy for it, doesn't really have much else to say after admitting he made a mistake here. he'll probably apologize, later. ]
It's exactly what it sounds like.
Someone flipped my jeep over while I was in it.
Like, grabbed the back bumper, picked it up, flipped it over the front end.
Didn't exactly come with much of a warning.
[ kind of like the stupid algae-rock. ]
Like I said.
A bruised tailbone isn't the worst.
Possibly shattered tailbone, but still.
I'm sending a pin for my location.
Let me know if you don't get it and I can just try to direct you.
no subject
It's okay. It sent. I won't be long.
[ i'm sorry for getting upset, he wants to say, but he's still prickly, and he's never been great at stowing his temper when it snaps. derek just... focuses on walking, focuses on getting to the elevator. he makes it in, but he has to wait for other people to board to head to the down, and they're taking so long. he feels like snapping some necks. ]
You need to tell me about everything that happens back home.
Soon.
If I wake up in Beacon Hills tomorrow, and I remember everything that happened here - I won't know what to protect you from.
[ but that's not something he should be bringing up now. just - fuck. paranoia. ]
I mean - I'm assuming that's what attacked you and Roscoe. A threat.
Not just some random beefy guy with too much time on his hands.
no subject
I will.
I want to. I don't want to mess up again.
[ like he did with allison. liiike he did just now, exploring this cave by himself without letting derek know.
the creepy, drippy cave sounds paired with the near-pitch darkness is starting to freak stiles out a little more. he still has the light from his phone, but he's already had to turn down the brightness to conserve his battery - it's not dangerously low, but he doesn't know how long it's actually going to take derek to come and get him and he doesn't want to risk it - which means the light only reaches so far before everything is just. dark. super dark, pitch black, almost the way stiles imagines being completely blind would be.
his anxiety climbs a little with the thought, and he swallows hard, and just to kind of fill the eerie almost-silence, he starts to hum a random song under his breath, something his dad used to sing to his mom like a big ol' idiot, just to make her smile. it's a sad memory, but it also soothes him somewhat. ]
It was a cop, actually.
A cop who's also a hellhound, but. Irony, you know.
He wasn't exactly aware of what he was doing.
At least not like, the human, law-abiding part of him, anyway.
Still sucked though.
no subject
Why would a Hellhound be in Beacon Hills?
[ and he won't, he refuses to, but he still asks a question that he probably shouldn't ask just yet. he knows it ties into all the things stiles has to tell him, and that's a conversation better had face to face, they've already decided that. something about it makes him uneasy, though - there shouldn't be anything other than werewolves, in beacon hills. if he thinks too hard, he'll think of the nemeton.
the elevator doors open up, finally, and derek powerwalks towards the pin on his map, away from dusty and filthy streets and towards the edge of civilization. if you could call the down "civilization". he types out a message to stiles, but it's distracted and only half-there while he focuses on moving. ]
Sure he wasn't a Hellpig?
Cops. Pigs. You get it.
Something. Sorry. Stupid.
I hope I kicked that guy's ass for you.
no subject
Well, the stump.
But also, I guess they're supposed to like
Protect places with high occurrences of supernatural activity.
I don't know, something like that.
I think you mean Hellhog.
[ there's a beat, here, in which stiles contemplates what he says next. not for the first time, he thinks about how different things might have been if derek had been there. would derek have believed him about theo? would derek have been there, when parrish flipped his jeep over and left him to potentially burn to death?
his humming stops for a handful of seconds as he draws in a deep breath and then blows it out, then picks back up again. ]
You'd already left by then.
Anyway, it wasn't really his fault.
He didn't have control over that part of himself.
And we were the ones who set him up anyway.
I mean we didn't know he was the one we were waiting for, but we put ourselves in the way.
no subject
he keeps walking, getting faster. stiles' pin isn't at the entrance of the cave, so going straight for it would lead to a rocky outcrop and very little else, but he's close enough now to be able to track stiles' scent. he follows it to the entrance of the cave system, heads inside, lights up his eyes and strains his canine hearing. ]
Sounds like something you'd do.
I'm here, by the way.
I think I can hear you. 500 Miles?
If that's not you, there's a very Scottish ghost in this cave.
no subject
he lifts his head up - he really is just sprawled out on the cave floor, back slightly arched by the rock tucked underneath him, legs stretched out. too casual for a dark cave, but what is there to do? he could probably get up if he really, really tried, but despite all of the shit he's gone through in the last two years, his tolerance for pain is kind of low.
plus, he really just doesn't want to slip again. ]
It's me.
[ and then, just to help derek out a little more, he repeats it out loud, turning his phone outward so the light shines away from him for a moment. ]
It's me. Uh, this way. [ he wiggles his phone a little, as if derek honestly needs to follow a light, and strains his ears a little to see if he can hear any approaching footsteps. ] You know that song?
no subject
derek keeps walking until he sees the dull glow of stiles' phone, then pulls out his own again, swiping his thumb over the lockscreen and turning on the flashlight. he lights stiles up and he really is... just... chilling, and that's kind of annoying, but given how hard his heartbeat had been spiking and how much he'd been panicking over what he might see, this is fine. maybe he overreacted, earlier. ]
Of course I know that song. I was only born in '88, Jesus. I'm not that out of touch.
[ he bends on his knees once he's close enough to stiles, offering him his phone and then just - waiting, one arm half-outstretched, like he wants to scoop him up but doesn't know if he should. because that is exactly how he's feeling. he wants to just pick stiles up, sling him over his shoulder and carry him out, which is - and don't get it twisted - absolutely, 100% what he's going to do, but.
he needs to check on stiles before that happens. the idiot could really be hurt, and derek doesn't want to make him feel any worse by moving him in a way he's not ready for. derek hesitates, then lowers his arm, setting it on stiles side and making eye contact. he opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. ]
You really scared me, dipshit.
no subject
stiles squints his eyes shut and lifts one hand to shield them, palm turned outward. he scoffs a little at derek's comment about the song, because that isn't exactly what he meant - it's just... not a song stiles would guess derek might recognize, even hummed - but he decides not to clarify. he just wants to get out of these caves and into clothes that aren't damp, pop some pain killers. maybe take a nap. everything feels kind of tight and sore.
stiles pushes up onto his elbows when derek kneels, wincing only slightly as something twinges in his lower back. he looks - mostly fine. his hair's a little disheveled and kind of limp against his forehead, weighed down by the thick moisture in the air, and he's got a little smear of grainy dirt by the edge if his jaw. he looks a bit tired, but that's not exactly out of the ordinary.
stiles presses his lips together into a thin line, and it's not quite a smile, but it's a good indicator of his embarrassment and mild shame. he shifts his weight onto one elbow long enough to tuck his phone away in a pocket before taking derek's from him. he angles the light slightly away from the both of them so it's not quite so blinding, but still illuminates derek's face in a soft glow. his eyes shift subtly back and forth between derek's.
stiles only had to text him once, and derek came. he didn't have to play phone tag, didn't have to wonder if and when derek was going to see his messages, didn't have to wonder if he was too busy, he just - immediately answered, immediately showed up. immediately cared, and that shouldn't surprise stiles, but it does. no offense to scott, but stiles is just - not used to that kind of loyalty and attention.
he softens a little, shoulders drooping a little as he sinks back into the brace of his elbows. ]
Sorry. I - didn't mean to. In hindsight— [ he pauses. stiles isn't often wrong, but he's not the type of person to pretend he doesn't make mistakes even when they're staring him in the face. and there's no denying that he didn't think this through, letting impulse and curiosity guide him instead of caution and logic. ] In hindsight this was - pretty careless. You're right.
[ stiles lightly grazes his fingers against derek's arm. ]
Think you can help me up? Sitting up hurts like a bitch and this rock in my back is doing me zero favors right now.
no subject
stiles apologizes. more than that, stiles apologizes despite looking embarrassed and injured and small, and even though a part of derek still thinks he was right to get angry, the rest of him is ashamed over making this poor guy guilty while he was isolated and vulnerable and hurt. stiles' fingers touch his arm and derek's eyes glow a little brighter. ]
It wasn't. You slipped. I overreacted.
[ he shakes his head, because he doesn't want to fight about who between them is more sorry, and he slowly pulls his arm back, letting it hover between them as he tries to figure out how to pick stiles up without hurting him. ]
I know you're smart enough to take initiative on things without consulting me. Just... scared me. Sounds stupid, out loud.
[ he shrugs one shoulder, then just - commits. he thinks it'll be easy enough to support stiles without directly touching any sensitive bruising if he really does just carry him like he wants to, so that's what he does. he mumbles something that sounds like hold on, but he doesn't offer any warnings, other than that.
he taps stiles' thigh, quietly urges him to close his legs, then slips one arm beneath his knees when he does. the other he curls behind stiles' lower back, holding him tight, and then he just... stands, again, bringing stiles up with him in both arms. stiles isn't as skinny as he used to be, but he's still very much human, and derek apparently doesn't have any problem lifting him. dude's still light enough to manhandle.
also, before stiles starts complaining, derek's gonna cut him off, already taking slow steps back the way he came. thankfully, there aren't too many steep drops to climb and they'll only have to make a few turns before light from the outside filters in again, so - ]
I'll put you down when we're outside, so. Chill. Pre-emptively.
[ he's not going to let stiles walk around in the dark while he's hurt. smart or not, the idiot still slipped. ]
no subject
he shakes his head lightly, letting his fingers drag gently as derek pulls his arm back, murmuring mostly to himself that it doesn't sound stupid, and that at least I know I can rely on you. which stiles already knew, has already known for a while now, but the confirmation is nice.
stiles moves his knees together, the heel of one sneaker scraping quietly against wet stone as he drags his leg in closer. he breathes in deep and then just kind of holds it like he's bracing himself for something - pain and discomfort, probably -, recognizing that he's about to be picked up when derek tucks one arm behind his knees. he reaches up to hook one arm over derek's shoulder, draping it over the back of his neck, and keeps the flashlight out of both of their eyes with the other, ignoring the moderate, throbbing pain from his lower back to the very end of his spine. derek probably doesn't need the light with his super fancy werewolf eyesight, but stiles feels a little more comfortable keeping it on.
he's about to complain, though. as soon as he realizes derek isn't immediately putting him down, he opens his mouth to protest that his legs aren't broken and that he isn't a damsel and he isn't in enough distress for it to count, but derek cuts him off and he's left holding onto him with his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows lifted.
being told to chill when one is already chilled has never worked in the history of - ever. stiles closes his mouth, effectively called out and, admittedly, mildly amused that derek knows him well enough to predict his behavior before it happens. he clears his throat in a totally dignified way, and resigns himself to being carried like a bride by a werewolf through a dark cave. ]
You chill preemptively.
[ good one, nailed that, sick burn. stiles cranes the flashlight back and forth, moving his hand from left to right and left again like a very slow sprinkler. he trusts derek's eyesight and his reflexes, so it's mostly out of curiosity that he points the light anywhere and everywhere, looking for anything of interest he may have missed in the duller light from his phone screen on the way in. ]
So there's a hot spring, like - way back there. Which is kind of cool, except there's no light? I mean there were some candle stubs around the edges, but what's that gonna do? Something about swimming around in black water really - [ his shoulders vibrate with a quick shiver ] - really creeps me out.
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[ unsurprisingly, derek's completely deadpan when stiles hits him back with a hefty no you, paying more attention to where he's stepping and how stiles feels in his arms than engaging in an actual conversation. a hot spring makes sense - the air here is damp, but not cold, and the way some of the rocks smell like rain didn't make sense for derek, given that they're underground.
but that explains it. candle stubs. that bothers him, because that's proof that other people have been down here before. derek drops his eyes to his feet, reflexively pulling stiles closer, holding him tighter. the cave didn't feel claustrophobic until stiles brought up candle stubs. he can't smell anyone, but that only makes him feel more anxious. ]
Sounds like a horror movie. Bunch of horny teens sneak out to the old caves, make out in the hotsprings while their parents are away on business. Accidentally wake up an eldritch monster hidden in the caverns by partying too hard. The homeless serial killer everyone thought was dead crawls out of the dark to join in.
[ derek realizes that stiles is idly checking the place out, so he slows his walk a little, just to give him time to double check. for the most part, he doesn't want to rush stiles and fuck up his investigation, however cursory it might be, but. more immediately, he doesn't want to run back to the entrance so fast that stiles feels convinced that he could have missed something on the way out. the last thing derek needs is for stiles to sneak back here at 3AM and get stuck again.
but whatever, it's fine. he feels safer, now that stiles is in his arms, so he doesn't mind taking it easy. ]
I don't like that other people have been here. They could've just been curious, like you, but.
[ but the candles make it sound like they'd stayed here for a while, and candles by the hot springs makes it sounds like they came here to relax, and that shouldn't unsettle him, but it does. there are tons of vampires around here who wouldn't care about the dark - maybe they found the place, hid away in the caverns, made it their own. but then why did they leave, and why aren't there more prominent signs of life around the upper levels of the cave? every vampire he's met has smelled like death. there should be some kind of trace of them.
ugh. derek's voice sounds too loud, suddenly, echoing among the clay. he keeps it quiter, though it doesn't make much of a difference. ]
But maybe not. You think this place is worth keeping an eye on?
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he's completely defenseless, and he doesn't like the thought of not being able to protect derek even half of as much as derek could protect him if everything were to suddenly go to shit right now.
but it's probably fine. there probably isn't a massive, ugly squid-creature waiting at the bottom of the spring. probably. hopefully.
stiles does his best to ignore the unease settling in his gut. he hadn't really given too much thought to the candles, figuring it was just - the easiest source of transportable light outside of a cellphone, but— but why not just use a cell phone? turn on the light, build a solid, dry base with a folded up piece of clothing, prop it up against a rock. stiles can't imagine a couple scattered candles would do much to alleviate the heavy, pitch black darkness. a torch, maybe, but a handful of candles?
stiles wets his lips, holding his light steady and static now, his fingers absently pinching some of the material of derek's shirt by his shoulder, rubbing it between his fingertips as he thinks. ]
... I don't know. It seems kind of weird, doesn't it? Like - why candles? And they're all mostly burned down to the base, too. If people are coming down here that often, why not bring a more practical light source, like battery powered lanterns, or just. A couple cell phones - turn on the flashlights, set them up in a dry-ish place.
[ stiles breathes out through his nose, idly chewing at the corner of his mouth in lieu of chewing at his nails because neither of his hands are really free enough for him to do so. ]
It could just be - I don't know, people trying to be romantic. Candlelight. Privacy. But something— it doesn't— I just get this... weird feeling.
[ a feeling he can't really explain or back up with actual, unquestionable evidence to support his unease, but it's similar to every other time he's had a bad feeling about something. stiles doesn't want to brush it off, but he doesn't want to fuel his paranoia, either, if paranoia is all it turns out to be. ]
It just seems... strange, that there's nothing else but the candles. Even organized people are forgetful sometimes, and I could barely see even with what little light I had - but you'd think there'd be something someone might have overlooked when picking up their things to head out, right? Like - maybe jewelry they took off, or a sock, or wrappers from a snack they brought down with them. Matches. A lighter.
[ it's probably nothing. stiles is probably making something out of nothing right now, spurred on by derek's recount of every shitty horror movie. he lets go of where he's pinching at derek's shirt, only just realizing he's plucking at it, and lets his fingers rest gently over the curve of his shoulder instead. ]
It's — it's probably nothing. Horny teenagers sneaking around, too worried about their phones getting water damage. Not everyone can buy a bag of rice, I guess.
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but every point stiles makes is right, and derek doesn't walk any faster, not yet, but he does shuffle his grip around stiles' back so that he can hold him firmer, tilting his head just an inch or two down so he can breathe in the comforting smell of his hair. stiles used derek's shampoo again, and - he's not going to get hard, not when jason fucking voorhees is probably standing behind them crying about his life into his hockey mask, or something, but there is a leap in his chest that makes him forget, momentarily, where he is.
the candles are a problem. stiles keeps talking over himself, and derek lets him, for the most part, but when that's the note he ends on, derek feels he has to speak up. ]
No. You've always been perceptive, and now you've had years of practice honing your intuition. You're the sheriff's son, for fuck's sake. If your gut's telling you that something's wrong, then something's probably wrong.
[ back home, derek hasn't gotten to the point where he's willing to blindly follow stiles into the dark, but he's getting close. it's a different story, in duplicity. he can see stiles' intelligence for what it is, and if there are clues here, derek doesn't want to dismiss them so easily. they'll keep the cave on the map. they'll figure this out together. ]
We can talk about this when we're outside. I'm gonna walk a little faster, so - hold on tight.
[ there's an uneven step in the cave where two flat rocks meet, and derek has to do a little hop to get over it. he does it quick, because he's scared of jostling stiles around and irritating his injury too much, and then it's a pretty clear stretch to the mouth of the cave. he walks in long, careful strides, minding his footsteps like he wants to keep them quiet, now that they've breached the possibility that this might be somebody else's territory. the candles are burned down to the base, just like stiles said. horny teenagers wouldn't need to sneak around in bonertown. someone's been in that cave a lot, but derek can only smell the earth. that feels wrong.
they make it outside and derek doesn't put stiles down, even though he said he would. he walks away from the cave until he's not feeling sandstone or dirt half as much as he's feeling grass, and when he turns to look back at it, he keeps stiles pulled close to his chest. he'll have to actually ask derek to let him go before he does. ]
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maybe scott's betrayal is still too fresh for stiles. it's been months, between home and here, and he and scott made up - but it was never going to be that easy to let it go, not for stiles. not when he'd tried time and time again to warn his friends that things weren't adding up, not when he'd provided actual evidence to back up his suspicions. not when he was right, and still almost lost everything and everyone anyway. scott had believed theo over stiles, hadn't even stopped to ask him what had really happened. theo told scott he was a murderer, and scott believed him without question despite everything stiles had tried to make them see. took the word of a stranger, and basically kicked stiles out of the pack for it.
stiles says one thing, makes a bunch of small observances, says he feels weird about it - and derek believes him. derek trusts him, acknowledges that he's not just full of shit all the time. stiles kind of wants to kiss him for it - just on the cheek, something quick, but he fights the impulse and just silently reminds himself that he's very, very lucky.
stiles curls his fingers tight around derek's phone and maneuvers his other arm around derek's shoulders at his warning, light pointed outward behind him. he tenses a little in anticipation of some greater pain, but it's not so bad on the other side of derek's short hop. he knows that he shouldn't, but something compels him to turn his head to look back over derek's shoulder, still shining the light somewhere from behind derek's neck.
there's nothing there but heavy darkness blurring the edges of the light, and that same, nagging feeling of something more. something that isn't right about the candles, about the lack of anything else. maybe he should have gone deeper.
maybe derek wouldn't have been able to find him, if he had.
stiles breathes a little easier once they're out of the cave, feeling a lot less claustrophobic now that they're out in the open. or, as open as being in the down can get. he unwinds one of his arms so he can swipe his thumb up from the bottom of the screen to turn off the light on derek's phone now that it isn't necessary for either of them. after a beat, he taps another icon, then holds the phone up, and he snaps a photo of the mouth of the cave. just in case.
it takes him a couple of seconds to realize derek hasn't put him down yet. which is actually kind of fine, if he's honest, because he's kind of dreading standing up and walking, but at the same time, he doesn't really want to be seen being carried across the down and through the up, like some kind of helpless loser. like — like a submissive, who is only allowed to go where his dominant takes him. which is dumb, because that's probably not even what it would look like. people probably wouldn't even care.
stiles clears his throat. he lightly touches the edge of derek's phone to his own chin and raises his eyebrows a little, wetting his lips before pressing them together. ]
Derek, [ he starts. calm, casual, nonchalant. he taps the phone against his chin twice, kicks one of his feet lazily, and then quickly stops that because it pulls at some sore muscles. ] You can put me down. You said you'd put me down. Outside. Which we are. Currently.
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back home, he couldn't see the better qualities in stiles. he was too quickly blinded by a need to protect him and scott without stopping to ask if they needed him, and then he was too quickly frustrated by his youthful ignorance to treat him like someone capable of critical thought. here - he trusts stiles as much as he trusts himself. he trusts stiles more than he trusts himself. he's quicker to listen, quicker to ask for help, quicker to apologize, even if it's all still a little hard to do, sometimes. he hopes stiles doesn't think he's been too much of a dick.
now that they're back in the down, he lets his eyes spill back into hazel, the red disappearing like the moon behind clouds. stiles reminds him of his promise, tapping at his chin with his phone, and that's annoying, but not enough to stoke a reaction. derek just stares ahead into nothing, contemplative. he acts like he can't hear stiles, but he senses the twinge of pain in stiles, and that gets his attention. he looks oddly... stubborn, when he's pulled away from his thoughts. ]
Mm.
[ yes. correct. he did say that he would put stiles down. he did say that. this is true. stiles is right.
derek's not going to put him down.
... okay, fine, okay, yes, fine. okay. he will. maybe. he just needs a second to ramp up to it, because he's a little afraid of hurting stiles by not being careful enough. slaps over the head, mild insults, that's one thing - but derek doesn't know how bad stiles' injury really is yet, and he's afraid of doing something to make it worse. a strained few seconds pass before he relents, but there's anxiety bubbling in his stomach as he frets over doing this right. ]
Fine.
[ reluctantly - very, very reluctantly - derek sets stiles down, moving slow and keeping close. it's clumsy, how he does it, because he sinks his knees down and stiffly maneuvers himself into an uncomfortable position so stiles doesn't have to bend his back when he gets up, but then he stands, and stiles can stand, too. derek looks at him for all of two seconds before deciding this was a bad idea. ]
You're in pain. I can tell. We need to get you home.
[ derek frowns, eyebrows together in the middle, and he's standing straight, but he has his hands half-out like he's expecting stiles to fall. rather than look like a dom and a sub wandering the down together, they probably look like an old man and his overzealous grandson. ]
Arm.
[ "give me your arm, please," he means. ]
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but derek starts to set him down and it's awkward and stiles clings a little like he doesn't actually want this, but he's just. concerned about being dropped. derek is fast and he's agile and his instincts are sharp, but it's the awkward crouch and the stiffness with which derek goes about putting him down that makes him question whether or not gravity is about to drag his ass right back to the ground for a second helping of unnecessary, unfortunate pain.
he plants his feet slowly, eases some of his weight off of derek's arms, and it's - fine. it's... okay. he stands there with his shoulders heavily hunched, head bowed slightly, almost like he wants to fold in on himself. his hands shake a little as he slides derek's phone into his front pocket - he'll give it back later, once they're home, or whenever derek asks for it if it's before then - oppsite of his own phone, and then very slowly, he starts to straighten his spine.
it's not - excruciating. the pain isn't crippling by any means, and it's mostly focused around his tailbone. the muscles in his lower back are tight and tense and sore too, and something pinches a little as he stands a little taller. stiles clenches his teeth, eyes squinting slightly near the corners, and he tries to play it off.
derek calls him out anyway. ]
I'm - fine. It's fine, I'm good. T-ten out of... ten.
[ but he can't even bother to mask that lie because he's super uncomfortable and it sucks. his shirt still feels warm and damp from the cave floor, clinging to his back underneath his overshirt, which is also gross. stiles sighs through his nose, and with an unfortunate look, he lazily holds one arm out toward derek, fingers spread with his palm up, unsure why derek needs his arm, but not wary enough of his intentions to ask.
gingerly, he reaches back with his other hand to pinch at his t-shirt, pulling it away from his skin. the feeling is slightly weird, and the separation just leaves his skin feeling cold. he shivers, which also sucks and draws a terse little grunt out of him, and then very presses his fingertips against the muscles in his lower back, squinting up at derek. ]
... Ibuprofen. Please. You can have all of the money I have left, I don't care.
[ all of the money stiles has left, after everything he's already handed over to derek to put towards the new place, is going to have to go towards things like - an actual bed, some food, maybe some smaller furniture like a book case and/or a used love seat. toiletries. house stuff. but a couple dollars spent on pain killers isn't going to put them in the hole. ]
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Fuck off. I don't care about money. I care about you.
[ he brought the drugs, solely because stiles told him to, but - he doesn't exactly trust the drugs here to do what they say they will on the tin. not after the fort. spiking stiles with viagra while he's nursing bruised bones and a potentially bruised ego doesn't seem like the best way to end today, so he offers something else, instead.
stiles holds out his arm, and derek steps closer. he takes stiles' wrist in one hand, just to hold him steady, then grips his forearm with the other. they're still in public, and a quiet, scratchy part of derek's brain is telling him to at least drag stiles back into the cave and out of sight if they're going to do this, but he's impatient and he's worried and he doesn't want to waste any more time.
and then - derek takes stiles' pain. it pulls itself from his veins and coils up through derek's blood in dark, black tendrils, and derek gets tense and sweaty from the effort of it. he can feel the dull ache that stiles is going through transfer into his own body, and he holds stiles' arm a little tighter just in case he tries to pull away. derek closes his eyes when he needs the time to focus, and in twenty, maybe thirty seconds, the black ropes in his arm fade and blend into the rest of his bloodstream.
derek sighs. he lets go, running his thumb over stiles' wrist, soft and reassuring. he opens his eyes, looks at stiles, and he's a little sweaty, a little sore, but he's okay. stiles should be okay now, too. ]
You really scared me.
[ he's repeating himself, mumbling quietly under his breath, but. it's true. derek wets his lips, fishes his hand into his pocket. he's light-headed and sort of lethargic after taking stiles' pain, so he's moving slower than normal, but he fishes out the ibuprofen he promised and curls the packaging in stiles' hand. in case he still wants them for later. ]
C'mon. Home.
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but derek also tells him that he cares about him, and that kind of chases away any desire to argue. it's not as if it's the first time derek's ever said that he cares, but it still feels good. sometimes it's just nice to hear it, to be reminded.
stiles' mouth thins out, like he wants to be kind of mad at derek, but also like he's trying to stave off a pleased little smile. he breathes out a heavy sigh, and then - immediately starts to brace himself as derek closes both of his hands around his arm, one around his wrist, and the other around his forearm. he assumes derek is about to drag his ass through the city, glad that stiles is relatively okay (obviously), but still fed up with him in general. he opens his mouth, about to stammer through a panicky protest about how he's sore and stiff and power-walking is his current enemy—
—but none of that happens. stiles exhales slowly, like derek's pulling the breath out of him too. stiles has had his pain drained once before - by scott, after stiles punched the jeep's engine in a surge of pent up anger and frustration - but that was minor in comparison. not that stiles is dying, but it's easier to cope with a sore hand than it is to cope with a heavily bruised tailbone and a sore lower back.
the pain eases gradually but steadily, the tension slowly melting out of his muscles and making him feel a little woozy and warm with relief. stiles lowers his head slightly as he exhales, his gaze drifting to where derek's hand is curled around his arm, veins dark and black as they reach and fade toward his elbow. it takes stiles a couple of moments to remember that whatever pain derek takes from him, he has to experience himself.
stiles lifts his head up. he takes in the thin sheen of sweat, the mild tension, the effort derek is putting in just - to make him feel better. stiles immediately tries to pull his arm out of derek's grip, just as derek predicted he would, but he doesn't put nearly enough strength behind the tug of his shoulder. his tone is quietly urgent. ]
Derek, wait—
[ he lifts his free hand, but he catches himself before he touches derek, unsure if another point of skin-to-skin contact would just push more of his pain into him, faster. even as his palm hovers near derek's elbow, his other hand curled into a loose fist, stiles' posture starts to improve in increments. his shoulders square up out of their minor slouch, his lower spine straightens out as he breathes in deep, his eyes on derek, ready to do whatever he can to yank his arm free if he thinks, even for a second, that derek is pushing himself too far.
stiles still feels a little unsteady by the time derek opens his eyes, his own eyes flickering over derek's face, his expression a mix of quiet concern and mild affection, but most of all, gratitude. he feels - good. he feels better, and it's a weird feeling, just like it was weird when scott took the throbbing pain from his hand.
derek looks soft and lazy though, and he's quiet, and stiles feels a little guilty, both for scaring derek (enough that derek has mentioned it multiple times) and for being the reason he looks as worn out as he does now. stiles lets his hand settle at derek's elbow finally, cupping his hand around the back of it and letting his palm rub slowly up the back of his bicep and then back down. ]
Sorry, big guy. I just... wanted to check it out. Didn't really think it through. [ he squeezes just above derek's elbow before letting go, his voice still on the quieter side, but trying to sound a little brighter, attempting to reassure him. ] I'm okay, though. ... Thank you.
[ even though he lets derek go, stiles' hands kind of hover for a couple moments longer as derek starts to rifle around in his pocket for something. at first, stiles thinks derek's looking for his phone, but before stiles can drop his hands so he can slide it out of his pocket to give it to him, derek presses a single-dose packet of ibuprofen into his palm.
stiles blinks at it once, twice, uncurling his fingers from around the little foil square. when he'd asked about pain killers, stiles had assumed they'd just swing by the nearest convenience store on the way home to pick something up. but not only did derek show up without hesitation when stiles said he needed him, but he showed up with what stiles asked for, presumably to minimize the amount of time stiles would have to be in pain if it weren't for derek's neat little trick.
stiles glances up from the pills and pockets them as he looks at derek. the corners of his mouth pull a little, his smile faint at first. he steps forward and twists slightly and, as casually as he can manage, he slides one arm around derek's back and lifts derek's arm, pulling it around his shoulders. he doesn't make derek lean into him, doesn't assume or imply derek needs him for support at all, but he's there all the same, just in case. stiles starts to lead them away from the caves and back toward the center of the down, his pace slow and easy. ]
You wanna take the train or the elevator? Elevator might be faster if we catch it at the right time, but - you can sit down on the train.
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