The Place To Lose Our Fears

STILES

Stiles fell back on the couch and released the breath he had been holding all day. He was more than happy to finally be at peace for more than five seconds. The past of couple of days had dragged on in an endless cycle of crazy, which was quickly becoming the new normal for him and his friends. From Derek waking up as a 16 year old amnesiac to that psycho-pedophile bitch Kate luring him out to rob an ancient vault, to where Stiles was now. Back in his good old trusty living room where the most exciting things that ever happened were on the television and everything mad sense. He had almost forgotten all about his house guest when he felt someone sitting down next to him.

Right. Derek.

"Guess it's just you and me, huh Miguel?", he joked in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.

The young werewolf didn't answer. He just sat there, head hung as if he was carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. Stiles knew they shouldn't have told him the truth about what happened to his family, but after Kate pulled that stunt with the vault, they didn't have much choice. He couldn't blame Derek for being despondent.

Honestly, they were all surprised at how well Derek was able to hold it together after hearing the news. They expected him to wolf out completely and disappear into the forest for a while. Or at the very least, rip some throats out in his grief. Instead, he had just sat there with an eerie calmness as they told him that most of his family had been burned alive by someone he thought he was in love with l. Afterwards, he quietly requested to go home with Stiles for the night until they could figure out how to reverse the de-aging spell.

"You alright there big guy?", Stiles asked, placing a hand on the other boy's shoulder.
After a long beat of silence, Derek finally spoke. "Why do you call me that?"
"Call you what? Big guy or Miguel?"
"The first one."

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's because you are kinda big... and scary. In the future, I mean.", he corrected. This Derek was no bigger than he was, but still kind of intimidating in his own way. "So anyway, my dad is working late. Probably making sure none of us get arrested or locked up in Eichen House again.", he joked. "He won't be back anytime soon. You hungry?"

Derek nodded.

"Of course you are. Why wouldn't you be? It's not like you just scarfed down two cartons of fried rice and most of the egg rolls with Scott's dad an hour ago.", Stiles mumbled to himself before getting up and moving towards the kitchen. "Come on. I'll make you something."

Stiles found himself fidgeting nervously as dark eyes studied him curiously from across the table. Derek had been not so subtly staring at him for over an hour. His eyes never left Stiles as he cooked the chicken parmesan or when he sat down and started slurping up the sauce covered noodles in a really undignified way. If he hadn't had the day he just had, Stiles might have found it in him to be embarrassed about his lack of table manners. At that moment, he wouldn't have cared less if it hadn't been for Derek's undivided attention.

The look on the werewolf's face as he distractedly poked at his food was a mixture of awe, intrigue, fear, confusion. Stiles hadn't thought it possible, but somehow this Derek was even more broodier and tortured than usual. Stiles was tired, he had been through hell, and he was over the emo. He dropped his fork on the table with a clank and threw his hands up.

"Okay, you're freaking me out. Why do you keep looking at me like that?", he questioned.
Derek startled at his voice, eyes going wide as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Sorry. I didn't realize I was doing it. I'll stop."

He didn't. "Dude, you're still staring.", Stiles commented not even two minutes later.

Derek stopped mid-chew and looked up at Stiles with a frown. "You don't know, do you?", he asked while searching Stiles' face for any signs of recognition.
"Know what?"
Derek looked like he was about to open his mouth to say something, but decided against it; shaking his head. Which only served to increase Stiles' curiosity. Stiles stared at him imploringly, the clear question in his eyes. "Never mind, it's not important.", Derek finally muttered.

Stiles hook his head. "Whatever you say Sourwolf."

Stiles came back from the hall closet with an armful of spare blankets and was surprised to see Derek laid out across his bed like he owned the place. Bare feet crossed at the bottom, arms behind his head, and eyes closed. He smiled to himself and leaned against the door frame. He'd never seen the older Derek so relaxed before in his life. It was refreshing. Stiles cleared his throat behind his hand and Derek's eyes flew open, landing on him.

Stiles pointed a thumb in the direction of downstairs. "I um, I went ahead and set the couch up for you. Extra blankets, pillows, the whole nine yards. Just try not to wolf out and shred them to pieces okay?"

Derek looked at him with an unreadable expression and shook his head. "No thanks. I'd rather stay in here."
Stiles rolled his eyes. Same old Derek. "Fine Sourwolf, have it your way. I'll take the couch."
"No, I mean I'm staying in here with you. You don't have to sleep on the couch.", Derek told him.

Stiles shrugged. That was a little weird, but whatever. Stranger things had been said to him in his lifetime.

"Okay, cool. You mean like a sleepover kind of thing? Scott and I used to do this all the time. I think we still have an inflatable mattress somewhere in the closet.", he trailed off, frowning and trying to remember where the hell his dad had put it. He and Scott usually shared his full size, no problem. Amd had since they were little.

Derek sat up on the bed and rolled his eyes. "Stiles. I mean you and me sleeping in the bed. Together.", he added for clarification.

"Oh! You want us to sleep together. I guess that could work. I'm down for sharing. I mean it's more comfortable that way and I'm sure we can both fit if- wait...what?!", Stiles recovered from his rambling and stared at Derek with wide eyes, mind halting to complete stop.

Derek ignored him and pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing a toned abdomen. Stiles was surprised to see that his olive skin was smooth and clear, void of the triskelion tattoo the older Derek had. For some reason, he had it in his mind that Derek had been born with it or something. It was unsettling to see him without it. In any form.

If possible, Stiles' jaw dropped even further even more and when he heard the sound of a belt buckle clicking against itself, he turned bright red and whirled around to face the wall.

"Oh my god. What is happening right now?", he muttered under his breath, too busy freaking out to remember that Derek could still hear him. He was a teenage boy after all and the sight of a half naked anything in his room was sensory overload. It wasn't like he could just hop into bed with Derek. Right?

"Just suck it up Stiles. Be cool.", he said to himself. When he finally got himself together enough to turn around, he found Derek sitting under the covers, holding the other side open for him. "Are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, sure.", he squeaked in response. Stiles hands shook as he unbuckled his own jeans. He pulled them down slowly and folded them carefully as a distraction. He usually slept in his boxers, but he decided to keep his undershirt on too.

He breathed out slowly and ran a hand through his hair. After climbing in next to Derek, he immediately tensed when the werewolf grabbed him by the waist and pulled him so that he was lying flush against Derek's front.

Stiles waited... And waited for something more to happen, but it didn't. They were just cuddling and okay, maybe he totally misread the situation. Derek wasn't trying to have sex with him at all. He was just using him as a giant teddy bear. Both relieved and disappointed at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder why the younger Derek was so attached to and comfortable with him of all people? They weren't even friends. More like reluctant partners in the fight against evil.

"Would you stop thinking so loudly? I'm trying to sleep.", Derek grumbled from behind him.

Stiles attempted unsuccessfully to wiggle free from Derek and sit up. "I just - What are we doing here Derek? Why are you in my bed snuggling me to death? This is weird. Even for you."

Derek sighed and loosened his hold on Stiles who turned around to face him. "I'm drawn to you. My wolf is drawn to you.", he explained. "I can't tell you why, but I need to be around you. My pack is made up of strangers, I have no family left.", he said, voice cracking on the 'family' part. " ...and right now, I just want to be close to you because you're the only thing keeping me anchored. So can you just shut up and let me have this? Please?"

His eyes flittered across Derek's face, searching for something. There was something extremely raw and vulnerable behind Derek's words that made Stiles's forget all about his embarrassment and how strange all of this was. It didn't matter anymore. Derek needed someone and right now, that someone was him.

"Okay.", Stiles conceded. He turned back around, relaxing against Derek again as he tried to take in everything that Derek had said and make sense of it. He couldn't. So he just decided to go to sleep and worry about it tomorrow like he always did.

DEREK

All Derek remembers after waking is the cloudy mentality of the wolf as it took over his mind. Full of fear, anger, and bloodlust. The only point in his life he remembers ever feeling that primal was during his first full moon shift as a young teen and even then, it was never that consuming. His wolf was a part of him. Lurking in the darkness, able to be suppressed, but tightly wired to his entire being.

When he drifts back into the world, he feels the prick of something at his skin, his instincts snap to attention. His heart rate is skyrocketing and the scents around him are unfamiliar and intrusive. Nothing feels like safety and all he can think of is getting free. Words are being spoken to him, but he can't see through the red haze and onslaught of white noise. His fist reaches out to disable the first threat and then he runs.

From what he can tell, he's not far from his home; his pack. His feet carry him far into the woods of their territory, but it feels...wrong. The scent of his family should be strong, the aura of the pack vibrating and connecting within him, but instead, there's an eerie stillness in the air. When he comes to the place where his house should be, all he sees is a dilapidated pile of sticks and rubble.

Confusion washes over him and he can't breathe, his wolf shrinking back and clarity coming through. He collapses among the ruins of his house and sits.

What happened? Where is my family? My pack?

He can't remember. The memories might be there, but he can't access them. The last thing he recalls is coming home after meeting with Kate in town. She's older than him and if his mother knew, she would kill him. Kate is beautiful, smart, interesting, and she listens when he speaks. She doesn't judge. She makes him feel normal again.

After losing Paige, no one around him seemed to understand his loss. To most of his family, she was only a human. Nothing to fall to pieces over. To Derek, she meant something.

No, Paige wasn't his mate, but he still loved her. No one had pulled him in like that before and he knew that even if he never found his one, he would never feel like he was missing something as long as he was with her.

Or at least that's what he thought until he ended up at the police station and Stiles walked through the door. The moment he saw him, he knew. With his mind still a jumble and not knowing who to trust, he didn't act on his feelings. Only sat stewing in confusion and mistrust as he felt the final pieces of himself click into place.

From what he can tell, Stiles has no idea what he is or what he means to Derek. If what they told him is true, the older version of himself has decided not to let him know and he can't figure out why. He's heard of rare cases where people let their mates go because they already have someone, but never for them both to end up alone. Derek imagines that it must be extremely painful for his older self to have his mate so close, yet so far away. Especially now that he has no family to really speak of, but Stiles.

Derek can't stop himself from staring at Stiles from across the table. The other teen is like a puzzle that he wants to solve. He wants to know everything about him, but he knows better than to ask. By the time they call it a night, he's feeling the stress of the day weighing on him again. The wolf is itching to come out again; a coping mechanism for the trauma he's experienced. He needs something to anchor his human self into his own skin and the freckled skin boy is it. His mind files away the desire to count just how many freckles there are for another day. A day when the world as he knows it, hasn't come to an end.

In a way, he feels like he's overstepped some sort of unspoken boundary by guilting Stiles into his arms, but the other teen had come almost too willingly. It makes him wonder if there's something more to the story of 'them' than Stiles is letting on. He knows for sure that as long as he's here in this body, he's determined to find out.

STILES

When Stiles wakes up, he's impossibly warm and still snuggled underneath Derek whose face is pressed into his neck. His eyes shot open in sheer panic when he heard the telltale sound of his dad moving around down the hall in his room. If his dad were to walk in at that very moment, Stiles wasn't sure how he could explain Derek sleeping in his bed.

With him.

All night.

Half naked.

He held his breath until he heard the Sheriff shuffling down the stairs and to the kitchen. Thankfully, Derek was in something like a comatose state and didn't even flinch when Stiles carefully removed himself and got up, sliding a pair of jogging pants on. He spared one last glance back at Derek's sleeping form and slipped out of the room. In his haste to get downstairs, he ended up falling flat on his face on the downstairs carpet.

Groaning, Stiles looked up to see his dad standing over him with crossed arms.
"Morning! Breakfast?", Stiles offered.

All the sheriff could do was shake his head, the picture of a long suffering father. Stiles was going to be the death of him.

When Stiles placed a lidded tupperware plate with a bacon-cheese-mushroom omelet and french toast with powdered sugar and strawberries in front of him, John immediately knew something was up. Especially when he got a whiff of the coffee tumbler next to it and realized that there was cream and sugar inside. Was that also a hint of cinnamon he detected? Stiles' usual offering consisted of a grapefruit and egg whites. If he was lucky, he was given a few slices of turkey bacon to go along with it. He raised an eyebrow at his son.

"Something you want to tell me?"
"Who, me?", Stiles asked innocently. "Nope. Nothing at all. Why would I have anything to tell you? We already agreed no more secrets. You know everything there is to know. Nothing new here."

John sighed heavily. "Okay then. So there's no particular reason why you're trying to rush me out of the house this morning?", he said gesturing to the plate. Stiles also didn't pack up his breakfast in the mornings. They always sat down to eat together every morning, even if it meant he would end up getting to the station a few minutes late.

"I just thought, that maybe you would like to get to work on time today. Get an early start on all that paperwork and the war on drugs and everything...", Stiles trailed off awkwardly.

The sheriff eyed Stiles warily. "Right... Well, thanks for looking out for my well being son. I know how important following the law is to you.", he said with thinly veiled sarcasm.

"Anytime dad.", Stiles replied giving him a pat on the back.

When his dad finally left the kitchen to go to work, Stiles let his head drop back and he released a breath of relief. They were safe. Just as he was about to bolt back upstairs to wake up Derek, John poked his head around the corner.

"Oh, and Stiles."
Stiles jumped up at the unexpected sound. "Yeah?", he asked, gathering himself.
"Tell Derek I said hi when he gets up."

Stiles' jaw unhinged in shock. John chuckled at the comical look on his son's face as he walked to his car. Maybe he should catch Stiles with boys in his bed more often if it meant that he would get real food to eat.

By the time he got back upstairs, Derek was awoke and already dressed. "Is that my shirt?", he coughed, stifling a laugh at seeing Derek in his orange and blue striped henley.

Derek looked down at himself. "Yeah, I borrowed it. That's not a problem is it?"
"Nope. That's a great color on you.", he lied. "Anyway. I've gotta head to school so I'm going to hop in the shower and head out. I have lacrosse practice after school, but after that we can head over to Deaton's to find out what's going on."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Who's Deaton?"
"Our emissary. Well technically he's a vet, but he's helped us get out of a lot of trouble. Hopefully he'll still help us even after you went all WWF on him yesterday."
"Cool.", Derek replied, swiftly getting up from the bed and stepped into his sneakers.

Stiles scrunched his face in confusion when Derek followed after him to the door. He abruptly turned around almost losing his balance and somehow found himself in a very familiar position. Himself backed against the wall and Derek looming closely in front of him. But this time, Derek's hands were planted firmly on either side of his waist to hold him up. All the blood in his body seemed to rush to one area. "Wh- what are you doing?", he stuttered.

"I'm going with you."
"To the shower?" His voice came out a lot higher than intended.
"To school, Stiles.", Derek replied. "I'll wait for you in the truck.", he yelled bouncing down the stairs before Stiles could react. When it hit him what Derek was suggesting, he launched himself to the top of the staircase.

"Derek! You can't go to school with me! You're not even-" He heard the front door slam shut.
"Registered.", he finished in vain.

STILES

Stiles pulled up to the building with Derek in tow, stopping his truck and turning it off. The engine sputtered a bit before going out and Stiles sent up a silent prayer that it would start up again when school was over. He would have to ask his dad to take another look at it.

"I still can't believe I let you talk me into bringing you here." Stiles grumbled; grabbing his bag from inside and slamming the car door shut. "Okay so this is the plan. First, don't tell anyone your real name. On second thought, just don't talk at all. Let me handle every- ", he said, turning around and seeing that Derek was no longer standing by the car. In fact, he was nowhere within eye shot.

Stiles groaned and set off to find his errant werewolf. He told the little voice in his head that saw fit to keep reminding him that he just referred to Derek as "his" to shut it.

"Ow!", Scott yelped, holding his arm where Stiles had hit him. It was more out of habit than anything because Stiles' punches barely felt like more than the tap of a finger since he was bitten.
"Where the hell have you been man?", Stiles hissed. "I've been texting you all morning!"
"I know, I was just -"
"You know what, it doesn't even matter.", Stiles cut in. "We don't have time. We have a serious problem on our hands."

"What is it? What happened?". Scott asked, looking around in confusion. Stiles huffed in exasperation. He grabbed Scott's arm and whirled him around to face where Derek was currently surrounded by a group of giggling and flirtatious girls.

"That. That's our problem.", Stiles said pointing straight ahead.
"Holy crap, that's Derek!"
"Stating the obvious there Scott.", Stiles deadpanned.
"Why would you bring him here? I thought we agreed to meet at Deaton's after school."

"I didn't bring him anywhere. He insisted on coming with me. You know how he is.", Stiles argued defensively. "And it's not like I could just leave him at home all day alone."

"Dude, he can't be here. Derek isn't that much older than us. I'm pretty sure somebody is going to notice that the kid whose entire family was burned alive, just walked back into the school looking exactly like he did eight years ago!"

"You don't think I know that Scott? What? What do you want me to do?", he implored.

Scott sighed and ran a hand across his face just in time to see one of the cheerleaders push her boobs into Derek's side, lace her arm around his and walk him into the school. They were so screwed.

DEREK

Derek might be a good eight years behind the rest of the world, but he has to admit that not much has changed about high school. Especially Beacon Hills. Even the grass is still the same and everything smells faintly of lemons and pine. After he wanders away from Stiles in the middle of his little tirade about basically staying invisible, he's immediately accosted by a group of giggling girls. Cheerleaders, judging by the uniforms.

"Hi! I'm Kayla. Are you new here?", one of the girls asks him with a pearly smile and eager grey eyes. Derek can't help but smile back.
"Derek.", he introduces himself. "And yeah, I am. Are you guys like the welcome wagon or something?", he jokes. Most of them look amused, but one girl rolls her eyes so hard he thinks it's a miracle they didn't pop out of her head.

Kayla laughs and moves closer to him. A little too close to be casual. "Something like that. Are you a Senior?"
"No uh, I'm a Junior."
"So am I!", she chatters excitedly with a flip of her hair. "Have you been to the office to pick up your schedule yet?"

Derek shook his head no.
"Come on. I can show you where it is. Hopefully we have some classes together."

Derek knows he should probably say no. He's already drawn too much attention to himself and he knows Kennedy is into him. She's been radiating the scents of lust and attraction since he walked up. In the past, he wouldn't have hesitated for a moment. Derek has always been a sucker for a pretty face, but now that he's met Stiles. Scented him and cuddled him; even thinking about anyone else feels wrong.

However, he figures he might as well try to fit in if he's going to be here for any extended period of time. So he says yes and doesn't complain when her arm loops around his and she leads him inside.

Getting a student I.D. is relatively simple. All he has to do is name drop Stiles' dad and use his charm to persuade the secretary. It's good to know he still has it. His mom always said that he was a charmer, even as a baby. All he had to do was bat those dark eyelashes and he would get whatever he wanted. He uses that to his full advantage.

While he's waiting for her to return from the printers with his schedule, he gets a few weird looks from some of the staff, but no one seems suspicious enough to warrant harm. As he leaves the office, he sniffs the air to find Stiles' scent and follows it to a classroom on the first floor just in time to see Stiles run inside.

STILES

The bell rang and Stiles just made it inside Ms. Garcia's Spanish class, skidding in with seconds to spare. He had been trying to track Derek down without success and Scott had been doing the same. Every time he thought he saw him, he would disappear. How hard was it to keep track of one freaking teenage werewolf? Apparently impossible.

"Señor Stilinski.", Ms. Garcia greeted. "Quien es?"

"Huh?" Stiles stared at her blankly until he felt an elbow being shoved in his side. He looked to the side see Derek casually standing next to him smiling. He wanted to punch the smug look off his face.

"Oh! This is um...my cousin Miguel. From Mexico. He's visiting us for a while. It's a new program. Kind of like an exchange student, but only for family members.", he rambled, closing his mouth when he noticed Derek giving him a look. The teacher frowned suspiciously; quite used to Stiles' antics.

Derek immediately took the reigns and began speaking to her in fluent Spanish. After only a minute or two, he had the teacher giggling and eating out of the palm of his hand. Stiles didn't even want to know what he said that made her face turn red as a tomato. He grabbed Derek away, pulling him to the back where there were still empty seats.

After class was over Derek took off again and Stiles gave up on chasing him around the building. When he finally showed up, it was already last period. Stiles slammed his locker door closed and glared at the wolf leaning against the lockers in front of him.

"Are you deliberately trying to drive me crazy? Because we're there. Done. Mission accomplished. So if you could just stay in one spot for the rest of the day, that would be great."

"I thought I was doing you a favor. Wouldn't want to cramp your style or anything."

Stiles laughed almost hysterically. "Cramp my style, he says. You know what's really cramping my style Derek? Spending the entire day chasing after a teenage wolf man...boy...thing!"

"Calm down Stiles, it's fine. A few of the staff members gave me strange looks, but no one suspected anything."

"Yeah, well there's still the fact that you're not actually a student here. Someone is going to notice sooner or later that you don't belong."
"All taken care of.", Derek replied with a smirk, holding out a piece of plastic towards Stiles.

Stiles snatched it from his hand in annoyance and turned it over to see what it was. Sure enough, there was Derek's picture plastered on a brand new Beacon Hills High i.d. card with Miguel C. D. Juarez written underneath. He was stunned.

"What the - how did you get this?"
Derek shrugged and leaned against the lockers. "Easy. Turns out the office secretary is just as easy to charm as that Spanish teacher. I told her all my luggage was lost by the airport on the trip up here and seeing as you're the Sheriff's son and my cousin, they let me slide. I'm officially a Beacon Hills Junior."

"Unbelievable.", Stiles said bewildered. Just then, the bell rang.

Derek shouldered a red book bag that he had gotten from God knows where. "Catch you later. I have Trig next period." Derek took off down the hall, bumping fists with some guy as he went while Stiles stared after him still in shock. So much for keeping a low profile.

"That's it. I've officially dropped into the Twilight Zone.", he muttered to himself before forcing his feet to move towards his own class.

"I've never seen anything like this before.", Deaton marveled. "Fascinating." The vet inspected Derek's face with his knuckle gently moving it to one side.

"What is it doc? Is it a spell? A curse?", Scott asked.
"I have no idea.", Deaton said in a faraway voice. "He's perfectly healthy and his body doesn't seem to be under any quantifiable stress. It's remarkable really. The concentration of wolfsbane should have killed him, but instead it transformed him to his younger self. There has to be something else at play here. I just don't know what."

"Awesome. You're really helping us out here doc.", Stiles huffed sarcastically, plopping himself onto a nearby stool.

Deaton folded his arms in front of him. "I do have a few contacts I can call for assistance. They might have some ideas on how to return Mr. Hale back to normal."

"What do we do until then?", Scott asked.
"We wait."

END NOTE: Thanks for reading! Drop me a comment and tell me what you think! 3