Chapter Text
Derek was the first to wake up the next morning, and this time Stiles was still there. The brunette was fast asleep, curled up into Derek's side with his face pressed into his ribs and his arm wrapped possessively across his bare stomach. Derek smiled, stupidly grateful that last night hadn't been a dream.
He considered taking a shower seeing as he was still kind of gross from the night before, but one more look at Stiles and he decided to stay put, not wanting to disturb the sleeping boy next to him. He moved slowly to pick up his phone where he was greeted with a text from Isaac confirming when his plane would be landing that evening. It was a sobering reminder that their tiny break was nearly over, that starting tomorrow and in the days after, Derek would have to go back to waking up alone. They’d be back in the barracks, back in the classroom, three weeks out from their mission. The reality of that seemed so distant from the way he was holding Stiles in his arms right now, the way soft breaths fanning across his bare skin was enough to trigger goosebumps.
While he waited for Stiles to wake up, Derek alternated between scrolling on his phone and watching the brunette sleep. His inner monologue flitted between variations of "aww" and "don't be creepy" as he studied him. Soon, a flash of memory from the night before came to him unbidden, and a shiver worked through his body.
The movement caused Stiles to stir next to him. Hands came up to rub at tired eyes and he let out a groan.
“You’re too hot. I’m, like, sweating,” Stiles grumbled, shifting away from Derek and sprawling back out on the bed.
Derek chuckled. “That’s so kind of you to say. You’re hot, too.”
Stiles just groaned again at his bad attempt at a joke. Derek ignored his morning grumpiness and pulled him into his chest to kiss him. Stiles made a soft noise of shock, but then relaxed into the kiss, humming as he threaded his hands back into Derek's hair.
“Ew, you have morning breath,” Stiles said when they finally broke apart, but he was smiling and hadn’t moved away.
They sat in something like bliss for a few minutes, talking low about nothing. But it was Derek’s last day here, and he finally got up and showered at Stiles' insistence. And he only asked Stiles to join him a few times, which he felt like was pretty good self control.
“If I do, it will be much too long of a shower, and that would be rude to your mom,” Stiles finally said, pushing Derek out of the bed as the latter groaned.
Once they had both showered, they got ready together. They hardly spoke other than in short bursts about inconsequential things. There was something very domestic about the whole morning and Derek felt drunk on contentment.
“I think I’m going to go into town today,” Stiles finally said. “If you’ll let me take your car.”
“What are we gonna do in town?” Derek asked, rolling back on the bed to slip on his final sock.
“I’m going to do some shopping for my cousin’s birthday. You’re going to stay here and hang out with your mom.”
“What? But we should–”
Stiles silenced him with a kiss.
“She wants to spend time with you. She misses you.” Stiles said. “And this’ll be the last time you get to see her before–” He trailed off. Derek didn’t need him to explain further.
He begrudgingly agreed, though he still looked at Stiles wistfully as he left the house that day, his stomach bubbling in something like abandonment.
“Derek,” his mom didn’t even let it go for thirty seconds after Stiles shut the front door. “What is going on with that man?”
“Mom, nothing, oh my gosh.” Derek sat back down at the kitchen table which was scattered with pieces of a half finished puzzle. Derek picked up a piece and began examining a spot for it, refusing to make eye contact with his mom.
“I’m not blind, kiddo,” she said.
"We just get along well."
“You slept in the same room both nights here,” She pointed out, her arms crossing.
“Yeah, cause we’re friends.”
She scoffed. Derek knew they were flimsy excuses as he said them, but he didn't have anything better. When she just stared at him waiting for more, he knew she wouldn't just drop it. Derek finally turned to her.
“What do you want me to say, mom?” he asked, his hands raising in defeat.
“I want you to tell me you’re being smart,” she said. “That you’re not jeopardizing your career.”
He couldn't stop the flare of anger. “What if I don’t think my career is the most important thing here?" he said. "I don’t need to be like you. So committed to work you don’t have time for anything else.”
It was an unfair attack and Derek regretted it the minute he said it. When he watched the way his mom's face fell, his stomach soured with more guilt. His mom didn’t respond right away, just sat down in the chair next to him, turning her gaze out the window. Derek sighed.
“I didn’t meant that, mom. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed about everything,” he said. She nodded, reaching out to grab his hand to offer it a short squeeze. She opened and closed her mouth a few times like she was looking for the right words.
“I know you resent it all a little," She finally said. "How things turned out. But I’ve tried since I retired to be–” she trailed off. Derek hated himself for the direction he had taken the conversation. They had been having such a nice morning, and he of course had to ruin it with his big mouth.
“I don’t resent it mom, really. I love that you introduced me to flying. I love getting to do what you did, that it gets to be our thing.”
His mom had always been his hero. He just had always hated that she had to be everyone else’s hero, too. And he had never fully been able to fix his bitterness at the fact that she had been so busy saving the world that she hadn’t been around to witness their family falling apart.
Derek knew it was unfair to hang over her head again and again. She had apologized. She had taken steps to be better. Holding on would only lead him to more anger.
His mom's voice cut through his thoughts, “So tell me about it. Help me understand.”
“What?”
“Captain Red. Or should I say Stiles? Tell me about what’s happening.”
Derek looked at her in disbelief. “Really?” He hadn't woken up this morning thinking he was going spend the day gossiping about his crush with his mom.
“Humor me.” She flashed him her signature smile.
So with some hesitation, Derek started to tell her their whole story, leaving out the more intimate details. It was nice, he quickly realized, to be able to tell everything to someone more outside of it. His mom stuck in a few puzzle pieces as Derek talked, offering “hmms”, and “ohhs” to show she was listening, asking questions where appropriate. Once the dam was open Derek couldn’t stop. He gushed about Stiles, about how he made him feel, about how different everything was now. He talked for much too long and then still found more to say. When he was finally done, his mom turned and touched his cheek.
“I should have known. You’ve spent the whole holiday looking at that boy like he hung the moon and stars,” she said.
“Mom,” Derek rolled his eyes.
“Seriously Derek, I’ve never seen you like this. It’s nice. All things considered.”
Derek wrung his hands together nervously, “Do you think it’s a mistake? All of this?” It was one thing for Isaac and Scott to disapprove, but it was another thing to hear it from his mom.
She thought about her answer for a moment before finally saying, “I don't think it's a mistake to go after what you love.”
The L word.
It made his throat stick a bit.
“Oh, kiddo,” she said when she saw his grimace. She squeezed his hand. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. It’s instinct for a parent to try and prevent their kids from making the same ones. But I trust you to know what you want. And I’m behind you the whole way.”
Derek suddenly grew teary-eyed. He tried to say thank you, but nothing came out. His mom squeezed his hand again as if she understood anyways.
“Just be careful," she added, in true mom form. "And fly hard. And come home.”
“Always mom.”
She kissed his cheek and they both lapsed into more comfortable conversation as they finished the puzzle. His mom started by giving him updates on everyone in the family, and then slipped into describing the new soap opera she had started. Soon enough it was lunchtime so they heated up leftovers and ate it on the couch. They watched game shows and yelled wrong answers at the TV and Derek laughed so hard his stomach ached.
Eventually, Stiles came back to join them. Derek beamed as he watched him walk through the front door with his shopping bags, suddenly feeling like he could fully breathe again. But when he caught his mom's knowing smile he self-consciously tried to dull his reactions. Stiles told them about all he had gotten up to as he munched on a sandwich Derek made him. They chatted for another hour or so before they had to get on the road.
Derek dreaded leaving, but it was almost worth it to see the way his mom pulled Stiles into a hug as they left. Stiles looked at Derek over her shoulder with such a surprised look that Derek nearly burst into laughter.
And then it was his turn to hug his mother. She squeezed him tighter than normal and didn't let go until Derek finally pulled away. She said, "I love you". And she said, "Say hi to Isaac for me.” And she said, "Text me when you get back". But it all sort of sounded like before: “Be careful and come back home”.
-
In the blink of an eye, Derek was pulling into Stiles' driveway. The drive from his mom's had never seemed so short. For awhile into the drive they had chatted as usual, but the two of them grew quieter and quieter as they hit San Diego, neither wanting to be the one to voice what had to be said. The bubble of Derek’s mom's house had been popped, and they were back to reality. Back to rules and regulations and hierarchies and stowed feelings. Now they sat in complete silence, staring straight ahead at the house. Stiles didn’t unbuckle, Derek didn’t put the car in park.
Stiles eventually broke the silence. Derek knew he would, even if he hoped he wouldn’t.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he said.
“Back to normal?“ Derek asked, letting the question hang heavy between them.
“I don’t know if we’ve ever been normal,” Stiles said. “But yeah, I guess.”
“It was fun while it lasted,” Derek said. He hoped Stiles hadn’t mistaken him for bitter.
“It was,” Stiles sighed. “Thanks again for bringing me.”
“Thanks for saying yes.”
Stiles finally unbuckled and grabbed his bag out of the backseat. Before he shut the front door, though, he turned to Derek, as if searching for something. There was a look on his face Derek couldn’t quite pin down.
“Three more weeks, yeah?” Derek said. He didn’t know when his voice had turned into a whisper.
That look. What was that look Stiles was giving him?
“Yes, three more weeks.”
He shut the car door and walked inside without looking back. Derek felt the sting of something like disappointment. But by the time he crawled into bed that night, he had one unread message from Stiles.
“I miss you.” Is all it said, sent exactly 3 hours and 14 minutes after Derek dropped him off. He read it again and again as he rolled that stupid dice between his fingers. It was as much a salve as anything.
-
The rest of the week was difficult.
On the one hand, Derek had been glad to see his fellow classmates the next day. As he listened to their stories from home and chatted with them in between sessions, he was surprised by how much they had integrated into his life, how much he now cared for them and genuinely wanted to know what they had been up to. It struck him how much he could not stand to watch any of them—even someone like Dozer—get taken down on a mission.
Ah, and the mission. It was unavoidable now. Three weeks out meant it was crunch time. Every mistake was penalized severely. Every failed practice run sent a wave of unease through the whole group. And the competitiveness had picked up again, too. There were constant reminders: only four would be chosen.
The recruits didn’t fight anymore, but they still tried to best one another. It was a fragile balance, one Derek was struggling to walk well. Even Isaac had made a short comment after Derek took him down one drill, accusing Derek of intentionally trying to make him “look bad”. As soon as he had said it, Isaac apologized, shaking his head like he hadn’t known where the bitterness had come from. There was a lot of that the first week: shaking heads, trying to get back into a rhythm that worked.
Derek and Stiles fell into their old rhythm surprisingly faster than Derek expected. The first “Yes, Captain” out of his mouth the next day brought on a quick flush from both of them, their minds reminiscing on the other night. But they hid it quickly and moved on, treating each other on the base as solely Captain and Lieutenant. It helped that they still texted as normal all evening. That even if Derek couldn’t have Stiles during the day, he could have him at night.
Derek would have been fairly content with where he stood with Stiles if it hadn’t been for the increasingly terrible bags accumulating under Stiles' eyes. By the end of the week, they were so dark that Derek was convinced he may not be sleeping at all.
Every text he had sent worrying about Stiles' state had been met with an "I'm fine" and a quick redirecting of the conversation. But Derek was fed up with his concern being ignored, so he finally confronted him after their Saturday conditioning.
The others had gone to shower before running more drills, so Derek stayed back in the classroom to talk to Stiles.
Stiles looked at him hesitantly, but he didn’t scold him for his meandering. They both waited to speak until everyone had left the room, and even then some. Finally Stiles broke the silence.
“What is it Derek?”
“Are you sleeping?” Derek didn’t waste any time.
Stiles sighed. “We already talked about this.”
“No, you blew me off every time I asked.”
Derek watched amusement flash across the brunette’s face. Derek rolled his eyes, but laughed when Stiles did.
“Grow up,” Derek said fondly.
“You laughed,” Stiles shot back.
They lapsed into silence for a brief moment before Derek refocused the conversation again.
"Seriously, will you just talk to me?"
“Derek–” Stiles sighed again. “Not here.”
“Just let me come over one night,” Derek said. “We don’t– I’ll sleep on the floor if you want.”
“People would notice you missing from the barracks.”
That wasn’t a no.
But before Derek could push the point any further, a flight deck crew member walked in to talk to Stiles, and Derek had no choice but to leave. When he texted Stiles later asking if he was going to I-Bar, the older boy ignored it.
-
They couldn’t go crazy for New Years Eve, but everyone was still planning on going to the bar and then watching the fireworks over the bay. The excitement was stunted a bit by the hard workout they'd just completed along with the impending workout set for 9am the next morning. Still, any respite from thinking about the next few weeks was a welcome thing.
Derek showed up to the bar with Isaac and spent the first hour playing pool and chatting with his friends. But after only an hour in he had a headache from how often he had scanned the room looking for a certain brunette who still hadn't showed. Tina had already asked him multiple times who he was looking for and he was running out of lies. He looked to the middle of the room where he saw Scott swamped at the bar chatting intermittently in between customers with a starry-eyed Isaac in a seat at the end. Derek finally gave in and walked over to wave down Scott’s attention.
“Do you know where he is?” Derek said.
“Probably home. I doubt he’s coming.” He said, his voice subdued in a decidedly un-Scott like way.
“Did you talk to him?” Derek asked.
Scott grew fidgety. “Yeah, I saw him earlier. I kinda–” he trailed off, looking more uncomfortable than Derek had ever seen him. Derek's eyes glanced to Isaac, whose brows were also furrowed at Scott’s reaction.
“Scott, what happened?” Isaac asked.
“It’s a long story,” Scott said, twisting to grab another beer for Atlas as Isaac and Derek shrugged at each other, neither having any idea of what had gone down. When Scott got back he said, “Just, if you see him tonight, will you tell him I’m sorry again?”
Derek couldn’t imagine Stiles and Scott fighting about anything, so he was a bit shocked to think that Scott had slighted him in some way.
“Yeah sure, but what–”
But Scott was pulled away by a line of people asking for shots. He shrugged his shoulders in apology before he turned away, leaving Derek and Isaac alone at the end of the island.
The pair sat in silence for a brief moment.
“You gonna go?” Isaac finally asked, sipping his beer and watching Scott from behind.
Yes.
“Do you think I shouldn’t?”
“Would anything I say change your mind?”
Derek smiled, bumping into Isaac’s shoulder. “Probably not.”
“Asshole," he said affectionately. "Well, tell him I say hi.”
And that was approval enough. Derek slipped out of the bar without saying goodbye to anyone else and drove straight over to Stiles' house. He at least had the wherewithal to park a little further down the road so no one recognized his car. But as he walked up to the small house, he grew more and more nervous, worried he was overstepping a boundary.
I'm just checking he's okay. He assured himself. I'll leave as soon as I know he's okay.
He knocked.
A few moments later Derek heard the shuffling of the lock before Stiles swung the door open.
“Derek?” He was wearing a big hoodie and boxers, his hair messed up and his face covered in an imprint of a pillow.
“Did I wake you up?” Derek asked.
“No, no. I was just laying in bed. What are you...“ he let his question trail.
“You weren’t at I-bar.”
Stiles looked down at himself. “Yeah, didn’t feel like going out.”
They both stood quietly for a moment, Derek hovering on the stoop and Stiles in the doorway.
“Well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Derek said.
“I’m okay,” Stiles said.
“Okay, good.” Derek had nothing else to add. “Well, I’ll let you rest.” He turned to head back to his car, suddenly feeling very silly about coming in the first place. He stopped in his tracks, though, when he felt a hand grab his elbow and heard a soft, "wait." He turned back to see Stiles gripping his arm.
“Come inside,” Stiles said.
Derek shook his head. “You don’t have to feel obligated, seriously. I really just wanted to check that you were okay. And now I know, so it's all good.”
“I’m not inviting you in out of obligation, dummy,” Stiles screwed up his nose.
“Well then why?”
The older boy hesitated. “Well, I mean, you’re already here, so–”
Derek would have been upset if the brevity of the response didn’t make him laugh. Stiles seemed surprised to see him chucking, but joined in eventually.
“You have such a way with words you know that? Really know how to make a man feel special.” Derek said.
Stiles huffed, but he was smiling. “You know what I mean.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Fine. I want you to come in. I want you here with me.”
Derek smiled and bounded inside the house, leaving Stiles shaking his head on the front step.
“See was that so hard?” Derek called over his shoulder.
They settled on the couch and Stiles turned on some action movie that both of them had seen before. They ended up talking over most of it anyways.
Eventually Derek decided to broach what had happened at the bar. By now, Derek was sprawled back against the couch and Stiles was nestled up against the arm, his feet tucked under Derek. He had a perfect view of Stiles' face as he murmured, “Scott said you two got in a fight."
“He said that?” Stiles' featured instantly contorted with tension.
“Well, he told me to tell you he was sorry.”
Stiles hummed but didn’t say anything.
“So you’re not fighting?” Derek prompted.
“You’re really nosy, you know that?” His tone was light, but Derek knew he had said it to avoid actually answering. Derek just shrugged his shoulders in response. He’d been getting into trouble since he was a kid for stumbling into situations and information he shouldn’t be a part of. With previous partners it had been easier, but the secrecy of their job had made this something different from the beginning. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want,” Derek said. “But if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”
Stiles nodded. He stayed silent for a moment, and Derek, true to his word, opened his mouth to change the subject. But before he could, Stiles cleared his throat.
“It wasn’t a fight, really.” The brunette said, turning his gaze to his fidgeting fingers, which were now picking at his thumb. “I just had to say no to him. And he wasn’t happy about it. But I–.” Stiles paused. “--I mean he knew I was going to say no. It just hurt to do it.”
“What did he ask?” Derek said.
Stiles still wouldn’t look at him. He thought about reaching out to grab the brunette's hand, but decided against distracting him, especially as the older boy seemed to be replaying the scene in his own mind, lost in reliving whatever had made him so upset.
“He showed up to my place a few hours ago, right before he was supposed to head to his shift. And we just chatted for awhile, but I knew something was up. He was being weird.”
Stiles paused again. “I mean, Scott’s always a bit weird. But this was different. He was acting really anxious. And eventually, I just told him to spit it out. And he said– he told me–”
Stiles searched for the words. Derek didn’t push. He waited for Stiles to take a deep breath and continue.
“He told me he knew we were about to leave for a mission. At first I thought Isaac must have let something slip, but that wasn’t the case. Scott didn’t know anything concrete, he could just tell by the way we were acting.”
Stiles scratched at his nose. “‘You’re both pulling away’ he told me. He had been worried for a few days that Isaac was going to break up with him.”
Derek hummed. “I hope you told him Isa would never leave him.” He said. “He might be pulling away to soften the blow of going away, but he would never abandon him. He’ll be back to normal in a few weeks.” And so will all of us. Derek said in his head, but didn’t voice that part out loud.
“What if he dies?”
It was like the air was sucked out of the room. Instantly the warm atmosphere of the house grew cold. The only thing to be heard were the soft murmurs of the movie on TV.
“Don’t say that,” Derek said after he got over the shock of what had been asked.
“You know it’s a possibility.”
Yes, Derek knew. Yes, Derek had seen planes shot down before. He had seen death. He had grown up seeing death, watching his mom lose friends, seeing their families devastation. He had caused death of his own. He knew the cost of the job.
“You don’t have to bring it up, though.” He said.
“That’s the job.”
“I know, Stiles, but–”
“Every time one of us gets in a plane, that’s a potential outcome.”
“I know–”
“He could die.”
“I get it.”
“I could die.”
“Stop.” Derek hadn’t raised his voice quite to a yell, but the command shook with authority. “Don’t say that.”
They both took a breath to calm down from the back and forth. Derek could see that Stiles wanted to push it, but the fight quickly went out of him. He retreated in on himself, and Derek had to be the first to speak.
“So, what? That’s what you and Scott fought about? Your need to remind him that Isaac could die?” The word caught in Derek’s throat. He coughed to hide it.
“No,” Stiles said frowning. “He asked me to make sure Isaac didn’t get a spot on the final team.”
Oh. Suddenly everything made a lot more sense.
Derek thought instantly of his best friend. Isaac wanted a spot on the team badly, and he had worked ridiculously hard for it. “You wouldn't do that, right? Isaac is easily one of the best. He’s earned a spot. And he’d be devastated if that was ruined–”
“You think I don’t know all that?” Stiles said bitterly, cutting him off. “I know that. I told him no.”
“That’s–” Derek searched for the right words. “I’m sorry Stiles, that’s an awful position to be in.”
“He was begging me. Said he’d do anything. And that we’d never have to tell Isaac.”
“Stiles,” Derek whispered.
“He was crying and shaking. He knew I could do it. I could keep the person he loves out of harm’s way. It was up to me. And I had to tell him ‘no’. What kind of a friend am I?”
Derek leaned over to wrap Stiles into a hug. The smaller boy sat shocked at the gesture for a moment before burying himself into Derek’s shoulder as he finished.
“So now he will have nightmares every night before we leave. And we will leave him here, sick with worry, as he jumps every time his phone rings because he knows what he might hear on the other end of the line.”
“None of that is your fault.” Derek said.
“It feels like it is.”
Derek didn’t have any way to fix that.
“It’ll be okay,” he said lamely.
After awhile, they shifted into laying on the couch, Derek behind Stiles as they both held onto each other. There was nothing to say and the weight of who they were was suffocating the room. Stiles switched the TV so they could watch the New Years Eve ball drop in some other city, a city far away from where they were now. Derek watched the countdown, watched the confetti rain and the people kiss and hug each other and dance in the streets. Every flash of a face on the camera was lit up with the hope of a new year. Derek sighed as he pulled Stiles to him tighter wondering if hope would be enough for them this year.