rhysiana:

Here we go! First prompt fill goes to you, because you actually sent this before I even posted the follower thingy! I imagine this set in some vaguely post-high school future, but it doesn’t really matter. Is there enough angst?

Angst prompt 4. “I will kill anyone who looks at you the way I
look at you.”

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Derek had nearly
gotten killed. Again. Just stepped in front of the stupid monster of the week
and let it rip right into him without a single thought for how anyone else—screw
it, for how Stiles might feel about
such a “selfless” action. Stiles might have flipped out about it, just a
little, once they’d managed to get him back to the loft. Which was why he was
now the only one here with Derek, having accused Scott and Isaac and Cora (his
own sister!) of not taking things seriously enough. Goddamn werewolves and
their cavalier attitude toward personal safety anyway.

Stiles, though.
Stiles knew. How fragile life was. He thought about it constantly, lived with
it so perpetually it’d sunk into the deepest recesses of his mind, into his
bones, and he did not need it brought
to the forefront of his attention by self-sacrificial werewolves with a death
wish and a martyr complex.

He dragged a chair
over next to Derek’s bed and sat there alternating between bouncing his leg and
playing with the magazine release on the pistol Argent had finally persuaded
his dad it really was necessary all the squishy humans carry on these
endeavors. Snick, release, smack, reseat it. Over and over. If
Argent were here, he’d definitely get smacked upside the head for it. Or his
dad. He set it on Derek’s nightstand, still in easy reach, and twisted his
fingers around each other instead.

Derek continued to
breathe, though his brows were slightly furrowed in pain, even in his sleep. Or
unconsciousness. Whatever this was.

“You shouldn’t do
shit like that for me, you know,” Stiles told him. “If you were awake, I’d give
you some bullshit about how I can take care of myself, which isn’t a lie, but the truth is… the truth
is I don’t deserve it. You know everything I did. You know. And you still act like you’re the one with something to make
up for? Dude, you didn’t even know. None of that was your fault.”

He glared pointedly
at Derek, who didn’t even twitch. “And don’t you tell me it wasn’t my fault
either. I was there while the nogitsune did… everything. I was there. I felt
it. I know you think it wasn’t me, but I’m really not so sure of that,
sometimes. I’m not a good person, not like you. I mean, I know you’re an
asshole, but at your core? You’re a good person. I don’t think I am.

“Here’s a stupid
thing. You know how I know I’m not a good person? Because I see people flirt
with you, and instead of being happy for you and running a discreet background
check on your behalf, I think ‘I will kill anyone who looks at you the way I
look at you.’ Which would be an awful thing to think even if you did like me,
let alone…” He trailed off and waved an exhausted hand between the two of them,
indicating the whatever of their
relationship.

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