Stiles going through a rough few days. He’s bruised and sore and cranky but he’s trying. Trying to keep everyone ok. Trying to still be the comic relief, the jokester, the punching bag that just rolls his eyes when someone snaps or glares or lets out their frustration. He’s perfected it by now. Knows when one of them is getting too close to the edge.
How Derek’s lip will twitch with a snarl. How Malia’s nose will flare or Scott’s eyes narrow or Liam’s face scrunches. He can usually de-escalate it before it happens. Saying something funny or clever or do some dramatic flailing or sighing and bringing the attention onto himself.
But not today.
He doesn’t have it in him today. He hasn’t slept, 3 days straight of research, of wolves crawling in and out of his window. Of sailing in front of witches spells and angry pixies and limping from the library to the loft because his Jeep broke down again.
Isaac says something snarky and one of the twins hisses something back and all of a sudden the room is in an uproar, all growling and threatening stances and Derek is snarling for everyone to stand down and Stiles just looses it.
He buries his face in his hands and everyone falls silent when he lets out a strangled sob. Angry faces turn to terror, no one knowing what to do as the human—the funny one, the carefree one, the sassy one —starts crying.
Stiles has been beaten and tortured by Gerard. He’s faced Alpha Werewolves and Darachs and Kanimas without a tear and now he’s just sitting at the kitchen island sniffling into the sleeve of his hoodie.
Derek is the first to move, to look helplessly around the room and meet Scott’s eyes. And Scott gives him a worried shrug before the alpha sucks it up and walks slowly over to him. “Stiles?” Derek asks gently.
Stiles shakes his head, not able to speak. Not knowing what to say even if he could because he’s just as confused and horrified at his reaction as everyone else. There’s no reason to cry but he can’t stop now that he’s started.
“M-Man, it’s ok. Ethan is always a dick…” Isaac tries to reassure, afraid something the twin said was the triggering factor.
“I was just messing with him…” Ethan agrees, nodding uncomfortably.
“Stiles… man. You okay?” Scott tries. But it’s obvious Stiles isn’t and when he doesn’t reply Derek slowly, cautiously lifts his hand and lays it gently on the nape of his neck to scent him and that… that sets Stiles sobbing. The human turning to lean against Derek’s chest. Big, loud, hiccuping sobs that causes distress to ricochet off the bonds in a feedback loop and then Erica is crying and then Kira and then everyone is. The whole room collectively falling into varying degrees of weeping.
And no one knows why. Just knows that they all are teens and barely 20 year olds who have seen more death and pain than most people do in their entire lives. And everything is all too loud and too busy and too much. And Derek who has never touched anyone, holds Stiles in one arm and motions for the betas to gather around and both packs press together in one large puppy pile, clinging onto one another and scenting each other with Stiles sitting in the middle of them all.
(via imagine-sterek)
