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Derek wakes with a gasp, blinking rapidly, trying to clear his bleary vision. It doesn’t work, he can’t catch his breath, and everything hurts. Everything.
From somewhere near, a quiet voice says, “Thank the goddesses, it worked.” Derek thinks it’s Peter, but that doesn’t seem to make sense.
“Okay, take it easy, Derek. You need to just stay still for another couple of minutes and let me check you over.”
Derek can’t smell anything, his head feels full of cotton. But, he’s pretty sure that’s Stiles. Which also doesn’t make sense. Stiles is on the East Coast, working for the FBI.
“Derek, I’m just going to make sure you’re coming back together. Relax, breathe, and let me make sure everything’s healing.”
It’s just easier to shut his eyes and try to breathe and let probably-Stiles poke at him a bit. At least the pain is easing.
“Here, take a sip of this. Slowly, just a bit.”
A straw is put in his mouth and Derek sucks in a bit of water and it’s heavenly. Cool and delicious.
“Spit it out, Der, you need to rinse your mouth.”
Damn. A soft, damp cloth is wiped across his forehead and Derek reluctantly opens his mouth, letting the water run down his cheek and neck. He doesn’t have the energy to spit. “Stiles?” he whispers, blinking at the hazy form in front of him. “Why are…”
“Yeah, we got a lot to talk about, don’t we buddy?” Stiles sighs and the straw is back at his lips. “Take another sip, another slow sip, please.”
Derek does as requested, which isn’t a hardship, because water. When the straw is pulled away, another bit runs down his face and it feels nice. Nicer still when Stiles follows with his damp cloth.
“I’m going to try to clean your eyes a bit, I think you’ll like that. Peter, can you bring those bottles of water over here?” Stiles talks so quietly, Derek’s not sure he’s not talking to himself. “Okay, I’m going to pour a little water over your eyes; it’s not too cold, I don’t think, so it should just feel…”
“Like water being poured on your face,” Peter finishes. “Do you think it’ll help if I brush it off while you’re pouring?”
“Yeah, just – be soft, you know. I’d like him to be really set, you know?”
“Set? Really set?” Then there’s cool water on his eyes and running down his face, into his hair and his beard and cool hands touching him. He sighs, feeling like there’s actually air in his lungs. “Damn, thank you. ‘S good, thanks.”
There’s silence for a few minutes and Derek works on remembering to breathe and test his senses while Stiles and Peter pour water on his face, neck and hands. They whisper to each other, and while Derek tries not to listen, he can’t help but hear a few concerning things.
“Dead? I was dead?” Derek tries to sit up, hoping his elbows will support him. “I was dead. I remember, I was…dead.”
Stiles pushes on his shoulder and says, “Yeah, you asshole, you were. You went all ‘I gotta save the world!’ and ended up getting your stupid self killed. Honestly, Derek, if it weren’t for –”
“Dear heart, maybe give the boy a minute before you start on him?” Peter says, pushes Stiles back on his heels. “Derek, how are you feeling? I’ve come back from being burned alive, I know it’s not fun. Do you want some more water? Or can I wash some of the ash off your legs?”
“Water,” Derek croaks and clears his throat. “Water, please. And how are my legs? How am I alive at all?”
While Derek drinks, Peter rubs a hand down Derek’s leg and says, “Doesn’t hurt now, does it? The skin at least? You don’t look burnt…” He looks over his shoulder at Stiles, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, I’d be a pretty shitty necromancer if I brought him back looking like blackened chicken, wouldn’t I?” Stiles kneels down next to Derek and joins Peter in brushing off blackened ash, revealing pink skin underneath. “Look, I’m so good, you’re even hairy again.”
Derek finishes the bottle of water, and after checking his hand, he risks rubbing it through his hair. “Greasy. And…” He turns his head away as though he can avoid the smell of burnt skin and ash hanging over him.
“Here, you take a turn, wash your face and neck, you should be able to do that now,” Peter orders, again silently checking with Stiles, as he hands over a wet flannel cloth. “That’ll help. Stiles has a robe you can put on while we’re sure you’re fully…you. I don’t suppose your eyes are working?” He flashes his blue eyes, waiting for the response.
Derek tries his eyes and tries for claws, both failing. “Not yet, not yet, but I am feeling stronger.” He looks around, noting they’re in the preserve and when he looks down, he sees it. “Nematon? That figures.”
“Yup, when something fucks up, the Nematon is usually one of the main participants.” Stiles brushes off Derek’s shoulders gently nudging him into sitting up a bit more so he can brush further down Derek’s back. “You’ll need a full shower when we get you back home. For the moment, we’ll get you as clean as possible. Eli is supposed to meet Peter and me here in about –”
“Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes, Stiles? Cutting it a little close?” Peter gets one of Derek’s favorite vitamin drinks, opens it and hands it over. “You must have been pretty confident, surprise, surprise.”
“Derek did take a little longer than anticipated to fully wake up, but I also wanted to make sure I didn’t leave too much time until Eli got here because with too much time, I’d end up lecturing Derek about how he’s a fucking idiot to let himself be killed!” Stiles stands, turning his back to Derek, shaking his head. “Look at this, Derek. This ash?” He holds out his hands, clapping them together and looks up to follow the bits of blackened ash whirling around before floating to the ground. “This ash was you, Derek. You did your self-sacrificing bullshit, acting like you’re the only one who can save the fucking town. Scott’s the alpha! Why didn’t he step up? Maybe he wouldn’t have even died, the way you did. You died, you asshole! You died, not knowing I could or would bring you back! I only did it because Peter reminded me you have a kid. A kid that I made for you, in case you forgot! And you apparently thought, “Hey, do you know what’ll fuck up my kid? Maybe burning alive in front of him, burning alive TO DEATH - would screw up his head!” Because you and I both know that a parent dying isn’t any big deal, right? Right, Derek? Who needs parents? We sure don’t!”
“Stiles had a little bit of time on his hands during the flight here to get himself worked up into quite a dither.” Peter holds out a black cloth robe and hands it to Derek. “Do you need a hand up? The more you’re on your feet, the more normal you are, the better for Eli; I’m sure you’d agree to that.”
“Yeah, sure. I mean, he’s going to be confused about this either way. I know I need to talk with him about, well about everything.” Derek shakes his head, and slips the robe over his shoulder, noting the ash still falling off it. “Stiles, yes, you should talk or you can just keep yelling at me, whichever. Thank you. For coming here and for this – how do you thank someone for this?”
“Well, when I came back to life, thanks to Lydia - and you, I suppose – I thought the best way to thank her was to keep away from her. It seemed appropriate at the time.” Peter puts an arm around Stiles and whispers in his ear, “How long do you want to stay now? I’m ready to go back home whenever you are. You’re right, this place is a pit.”
“I’m not done yelling at Derek, yet, sweetheart, can you give me a few more minutes? Oh, and by the way, bringing people back from the dead takes a little outta you, ya know?” Stiles grabs a couple of bottles from a nearby cooler and gives one to Derek, drinking deeply from the one he kept for himself. “I know you think I’m omnipotent or something, but I do get worn out doing this shit, creating children for you out of nothing, bringing you back from the dead, or –”
“What? What are you talking about? Dad?” Eli stumbles into view, racing towards his father, and stopping just in front of him. “Dad? How… Dad?”
Derek pulls him into a hug, rubbing his face into his son’s hair. “I’m here, I’m here, Eli, I’m here.”
“We’ll give them a minute, love. Then, I guess you get to answer any questions.”
Stiles rests his head on Peter’s shoulder and sighs as Peter rubs his hands across his back, effortlessly finding the knots between his shoulder blades. “Man, when you told me it turned into a total shit-show, you weren’t kidding, were you? I’m sorry I didn’t come out earlier, but -”
“No, I’m glad you didn’t come out earlier.” Peter gently steps away so he can look Stiles in the eyes. “You don’t need any repeat of the Nogitsune. And we handled it. Poorly, yes, but we handled it.”
“Yeah, I guess so. At least you guys got rid of it, hopefully for good. I never understood why it wasn’t killed the first time…”
“Scott,” they both say together.
Stiles shakes his head and leans back against Peter’s chest, putting his hands on his mate’s as they wrap around his stomach. “You’d think after all of this, he’d realize that being a boy scout doesn’t work in our world.”
“He doesn’t need to, does he? He still has people like Derek willing to throw themselves onto a literal fire.”
They watch as Eli brushes ash off his father, and Derek touches Eli as much as possible, trading scents. There may be a tear or two brushed off as well, not that it’ll be mentioned.
When Derek looks over to them, Stiles takes Peter’s hand and whispers, “Show time. And believe me, I have things to say.”
“Okay, I have three things to talk about now and if you want to discuss anything else, please hold your questions until the end. I’m tired and I’m hungry and I’m a bit cranky.” He checks on everyone and adds, “I’m going to pace, it’s what I do. You guys can sit. Especially you, Derek, you need to rest and… solidify.”
“That sounds promising,” Derek says, but sits down with his back against the Nematon.
Eli sits next to him, pressed side-to-side and smiles as Derek puts an arm around him. “I have a ton of questions, but I’ll wait. For a bit, Stiles, not forever.”
“Okay, antagonistic! That’s the Hale spirit! Oh, and it’s a little Stilinski as well. You see, Eli, it’s like this.” Stiles squats in front of the pair, leaning forward and using his hand for balance. “Your father should be a father. He’s a great guy and knows a lot of stuff and needs a family like no one I’ve ever seen. He also is a terrible judge of character and should not be allowed within twenty feet of anyone with a uterus.”
“Harsh,” Peter says from behind him. He’s sitting with his back against a tree, looking at his phone. “True, but harsh.”
“You should talk, Mr. Bang-a-Desert-Wolf. So, Eli, a few years ago - several years ago - we had a discussion and we - meaning Peter and I – kinda convinced your father that he should have a child. I mean, there’s not a lot of chance for the Hale line to continue, unless Cora has a sudden change of heart and decides to have a kid, which I cannot see happening. Maybe Peter and I’ll have a kid at some point, but maybe not.” He stands and goes back to pacing. “We determined that an actual baby wasn’t a great idea for Derbear, but a toddler would be, so… Magic!” He completes his monologue with jazz hands.
“Eli, Stiles isn’t explaining this really well, I don’t think.” Derek turns to his son and says, “You are my son. You’re my son and a werewolf and you were so so wanted and you still are. Always.”
“You’ve never talked about my mom. You always say you’ll tell me later…”
“Ta da! I’m genetic material number two! Weird, huh? I was practicing some magic for classes I was taking and created a real cool cat that lives with my dad now and…” He huffs out a breath and shrugs, looking slightly contrite. “Kinda made you out of clay and hair and other bodily items and you became alive and you became Eli.”
Eli pulls away from Derek and stares at nothing for a long minute. “Wait, you’re saying I’m basically a golem? That’s what you’re telling me? I’m not real?”
“No, no, you’re totally real, you're a real boy! You’re a real person with flesh and blood and everything else and you’ll age and do whatever you do.” Stiles waves his hands around as though he can show Eli his future. “Eventually, you’ll die, just like everyone else. Of course, it’s werewolf aging, so you’ll have more time than humans. But you’re a regular werewolf fifteen year-old. You just had a slightly different start, that’s all.”
Eli slumps back against the stump, shaking his head. “This is a lot. Like a lot a lot.” He looks at Derek and asks, “Are you going to stay alive? I guess I am. I guess this is why I don’t remember anything from my childhood. I think my first memories are… kindergarten? First Grade, maybe? How old was I when I was born? That’s a weird thing to say.”
“He does have a bit of Stiles, doesn’t he?” Peter says and checks his watch. “I think we determined that Derek could handle a four year old, and so you were basically four-ish. And it’s not such a big deal. Although kudos for knowing what a golem is.”
“We can talk more about this anytime you want. But I am truly in need of about twelve hours of sleep, so for tonight, I’ll just say this part – Derek, you’re an idiot. Do not, ever again, put your life up for anything in this town. Scott fucking left it, and it’s supposed to be his territory. You have responsibility for Eli and that’s it. You need to live because he needs a parent.” Stiles sits next to Peter, putting his head on the older man’s shoulder and shuts his eyes.
“I thought it was important…” Derek says, but shuts up when Stiles glares at him.
“Eli. Eli and only Eli. I left him with you, I trusted you with him. And another thing, you need to make sure you have legal papers that say if anything does happen to you, he comes to us. He comes to his family. Peter’s is your uncle, he’s a Hale. You’re a Hale, Eli is a Hale.”
“I didn’t exactly have a chance to choose -”
“Exactly! You should already have papers drawn up that say if anything were to happen to you, we’re his legal guardians.” Stiles throws up his hands and walks back to Peter, sitting and dropping his head to Peter’s shoulder. “Honestly, around here, everyone should have their wills done and power of attorney and DNRs and whatever else. This place is a hell hole. A shit show. A wasteland.”
“You won’t hear me arguing with you on that.” Peter kisses Stiles’ temple, pushing the hair off his forehead. “You look exhausted, I know this took a lot out of you. We should get you home and in bed.”
Nodding against Peter, Stiles mutters, “Please. And breakfast with Dad, say bye to these two knuckleheads and then to the airport. Flight leaves at seven tomorrow night.”
“You already have a flight back?” Derek’s moved, testing his arms and legs, looking much sturdier. “You’re not staying? I mean, I don’t know how long you’ve been here, so, maybe you’ve been here for a while and -”
“Nope. Got here a couple days ago. You’ve been dead for five days, Derek. Five days since you decided to play Superman and throw yourself –”
Peter pushes Stiles so he’s sitting next to Derek on the huge tree stump. “Darling, we get the point. Derek needs to remember he has responsibilities now and to not run head first into danger. Like you're one to talk, by the way. And I’ll work with him when we get back home to get all his important documents drawn up.” He turns to Derek, giving him a curt nod. “And we do need to go back home, Stiles has to report back to his very important FBI job. He’s a working man. And I’m a kept man.”
“But I have questions!” Eli looks at the people around him at the nematon. His family. “You can’t just leave after dropping a bomb on me like this! I’m not… I don’t know what I am, you brought my dad back to life, you created me out of clay, what does that mean? Are you some kind of – god?”
Stiles smiles, Peter snorts and Derek rolls his eyes. “No, dude, I’m just a guy with some magic, some training and a pretty awesome library full of spell books. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything without a body, or part of a body. You can thank your dad for the kidney he donated; it’s what got you started.”
Eli covers his eyes, shaking his head. “I still have so many questions and my dad is… I have to call Scott and tell him I’m not going back to LA with him tomorrow. Because my dad was brought back to life. By my other parent.”
“I’m not your other parent, Eli.” Stiles kneels in front of him, putting a hand on Eli’s knee. This discussion was supposed to have happened a couple of years earlier and certainly not after bringing Derek back from his suicide mission. “Eli, really, you have more DNA from Derek than from me. I just donated a molar. And maybe a couple of moles."
“A tooth? Do I have your tooth in my mouth?” Eli grabs at his face, leaving scratches as his claws have come out.
“Derek, help here?” Stiles asks, grabbing Derek’s hand and pulling him towards Eli. He glances over his shoulder and Peter’s standing quietly to the side. He supported The Hale Continuation Project, but he knows when not to get involved.
Stiles watches Derek and Eli grasp each other again, and shrugs at Peter. They exchange a couple of looks that apparently serve as conversation. “Guys, um, how about if we stay a couple more days? I can answer as many questions as I can and if I can’t answer, I’ll find answers for you. Plus, it’ll give Peter another couple of days to flirt with Argent.”
“I never!” Peter shrugs and puts on the charming smile that Stiles hates. “Unless it bothers him.”
“That’s just gross, but you can do that, Stiles? You job’ll let you?” Eli scrubs a hand across his eyes and Stiles smiles because it does look familiar. “You want to stay around?”
“For just a couple of days, I can extend my PTO. Honestly, you guys should move out to Virginia with me and Peter. We’ve got a good amount of land and there’s more than enough area for another couple of wolves.” Stiles takes a breath, his eyes bright as he looks for Peter, gesturing for him to come closer. “We could do that, right? And there’d be no problem with Derek opening up a garage and god knows there’s schools there, good schools for Eli to enroll in and –”
“Breathe, love. Yes, they could move out, if they want to. I think Derek might need a little time for such life altering decisions, seeing that he just arose from the dead.” Peter pulls Stiles’ arm over his shoulder and lets his mate lean on him. “Tonight, we’ll go to our apartment, Derek can shower and we’ll get food. There’s one guest room, so you’ll have to share a king bed, I’m sure it’ll be fine. A nice quiet night and we’ll figure out next steps tomorrow.”
Derek pulls the robe around himself, and throws an arm over Eli’s shoulder, watching as Peter gathers the last of the supplies and garbage. Any other clean up can wait. “Actually, it just might be time to get out of here.”