"It’s not that bad."
"It is that bad."
"Derek, listen to me. It is that bad.”
"It’s not that bad," a disembodied voice floats to them from the other side of the hastily shut door.
"I don’t think you get to contribute!" Stiles shrills at his dad.
"Stiles, you’re nineteen, this is your apartment and he didn’t knock," Derek says patiently.
"You’re right. I didn’t knock. Totally my bad," his father calls.
"I gave him a key. He doesn’t have to knock," Stiles says.
"He has to knock if he doesn’t want to see his son giving-"
"Got the visual. Don’t need the commentary!" The Sheriff calls, sounding a little further away from the door, like he’s backing up in horror.
"-his boyfriend a really nice time," Derek finishes lamely. Stiles puts hands on either side of Derek’s face, squishing his cheeks in delight, embarrassment forgotten.
"I think that’s the first time you’ve used the ‘b’ word. I thought we weren’t allowed to use the ‘b’ word."
"I’m coming around. Especially since you keep coming up with alternatives."
"I thought snuggle tooth was a winner," the Sheriff calls.
"I agree with Stiles. You don’t get to contribute!" Derek yells, cheeks flushing a lovely pink.
~ A Pushing Daisies AU
Derek is nine years old when he discovers the gift that he’s been given. A gift that he didn’t necessarily ask for. Derek can touch dead things and bring them back to life. But not without consequences and conditions, many of which are heartbreaking.
Many years later, his path crosses that of his childhood sweetheart, Stiles, in very unfortunate circumstances. But now, Derek’s gift gives him the power to save Stiles. And damned be the consequences.
“Where are we going?” Derek asks instead.
“Beacon Hills,” Allison answers him, and Derek’s heart skips up a bit at the name of his home town. “You ever been there?”
“You could say that,” Derek says, letting out a deep breath. “I kinda grew up there. Before boarding school.”
“Well, get ready to go back then,” Allison says, “You free this afternoon?”
“I can ask Scott to keep an eye on the restaurant,” Derek nods, “I’ve done all my baking for today. So… this dead guy from Beacon Hills, does he have a name?”
“Gościsław Stilinski,” Allison says, and Derek’s heart stops beating.
“Stiles…” he whispers out, swallowing around the lump in his throat.
side by side we shall stand
with courage coursing through our veins
and power thrumming from our fingertips.
our voices loud like a war cry