[ There's a noise that breaks him out of a fitful sleep, a sound that leaves him straining to hear anything more. He's not sure what it was but he rises (clumsily with his arm still pinned to his chest) and moves to open the window, listen out.
The air's cold. and his breath turns to mist when he breathes out. Resting his head against glass. Maybe he imagined it? ]
Stiles doesn't know what makes him do it, but he's pulling a hoodie over his body and grabs his device, takes the stairs of the youth centre two at a time and throwing himself outside.
He tries to pinpoint where the sound is coming from, muttering under his breath. ] Please don't be a real wolf, please don't be a real wolf, please don't be a real wolf.
[ He stares at him, really stares at him. If he weren't looking, he wouldn't notice the subtle differences, wouldn't be able to peice it together so quickly.
This time last month he hadn't been him, now it looks like it's Derek who's different. ] You're his Derek, awh crap.
You're uh - you're not my Derek? I mean, he's not my Derek, he's totally his own Derek, but I figure it would be better to explain it that way. This is the City - it likes to fuck with people, I guess. I'm from ... There's a parallel universe where Scott's the one Peter bit. That's where I'm from.
[ He doesn't think that it's painful enough to deal with, but he just pats the bed beside him anyway. ] There's kind of a bunch of other things that are different.
Wow. This is the closest they've ever been and this Derek is missing the hard edges he usually has and Stiles is kind of still sleep deprived. ] We're not together. [ All in a rush, face colouring. ]
no subject
The air's cold. and his breath turns to mist when he breathes out. Resting his head against glass. Maybe he imagined it? ]
no subject
He howls again. Stiles, Stiles, Stiles.]
no subject
Stiles doesn't know what makes him do it, but he's pulling a hoodie over his body and grabs his device, takes the stairs of the youth centre two at a time and throwing himself outside.
He tries to pinpoint where the sound is coming from, muttering under his breath. ] Please don't be a real wolf, please don't be a real wolf, please don't be a real wolf.
.
Of course it's not a real-
What happened to you?
.
Why were you howling?
.
What happened? Why is your arm broken?
[He sounds distressed, but also kind of angry - not at Stiles, though. How is this his life?]
.
This time last month he hadn't been him, now it looks like it's Derek who's different. ] You're his Derek, awh crap.
.
What's going on?
We need to get you inside.
.
Come on, I live in the Youth Center, we can talk there. [ Turning to lead him back through. ]
.
.
He often wondered how the other him managed it, how he got Derek to want him. ] Okay. Do you need like a shirt or something?
.
[He takes a sniff and his nose curls up. Gross]
What's going on?
.
You're uh - you're not my Derek? I mean, he's not my Derek, he's totally his own Derek, but I figure it would be better to explain it that way. This is the City - it likes to fuck with people, I guess. I'm from ... There's a parallel universe where Scott's the one Peter bit. That's where I'm from.
.
[That is just a fact]
Scott? He bit Scott? Scott hates me.
.
Yeah well, that doesn't change.
.
[Onto things he can't do anything about]
.
[ He goes to shrug with the other arm. ] It was snowing.
.
[He's just.
He wants to touch Stiles. He really does.]
.
[ He looks up at Derek, eyes wide. ] This is weird. This is really weird.
.
[He looks hesitant, he just wants-
He wants his wolf. Because Derek is still a bundle of problems, and Stiles helps]
.
[ He doesn't think that it's painful enough to deal with, but he just pats the bed beside him anyway. ] There's kind of a bunch of other things that are different.
.
He's not sitting on that bed]
Are you going to tell me what?
.
Wow. This is the closest they've ever been and this Derek is missing the hard edges he usually has and Stiles is kind of still sleep deprived. ] We're not together. [ All in a rush, face colouring. ]
.
You don't trust me?
[He can't tell that by scent, but he knows Stiles.]
.
[ Staring at him. ]
You hate me and you don't trust me and the idea of me and you ever being anything is laughable.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I clearly have been writing too many text tags
that's okay bb! /clings
(no subject)
(no subject)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.