Out of Nowhere

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/744618.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Sheriff Stilinski,
Allison Argent, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin,
Jackson Whittemore, Mama Stilinski
Additional Tags: blind!Stiles, Bonding, Non-Graphic Violence, Derek isn't as big of an
asshole as he seems, non-canon what so ever
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2013-04-01 Words: 8,673 Chapters: 8/8
 Out of Nowhere
by CaptainStilinski

Summary

It started so gradually that Stiles didn’t think much of it. Just chalked it up to too many nights
using his amazing googling powers as requested -more like threatened- by the one and only
broody werewolf himself.

It was nothing really. Just a barely there fuzziness around the corners of his vision. He’d
blink a few times, rub his eyes, and it would go away.

Stiles didn’t think anything of it.

Notes

So this is my second Teen Wolf fic and by far the longest thing I've ever written! And
finished!

So reviews are always welcome and I hope you enjoy!

 Chapter 1

It started so gradually that Stiles didn’t think much of it. Just chalked it up to too many nights
using his amazing googling powers as requested -more like threatened- by the one and only
broody werewolf himself.

It was nothing really. Just a barely there fuzziness around the corners of his vision. He’d
blink a few times, rub his eyes, and it would go away.

Stiles didn’t think anything of it.

------

The fuzziness would come back at odd times. Like when he was doing his homework, or
when he was downstairs getting a snack.

Sometimes it would get so distracting that Stiles wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything
else and it would give him a headache. The only way Stiles could get his head to stop
pounding was to sleep through it.

By the time he woke up the headache, and the fuzziness, was gone.

Stiles didn’t let himself worry about it.

------

It was getting worse, Stiles was starting to realize. But he was scared.

Scared of what was happening to him, and scared to tell anyone. Especially the pack... Derek.
He was already the weakling of the group, what would happen if he told them “hey guys I
think I’m going blind!” ? They wouldn’t need him anymore, or well a more correct statement
would be: Stiles would be useless to them. He hated being useless.

Things would change, things would be weird. The pack would probably distance themselves
from him and eventually move on. Stiles would be left alone. His dad would become more
stressed. Like having to raise a shitty son wasn’t hard enough, now he’d have to take care of
a shitty blind son.

Stiles was terrified.

 Chapter 2

It was a usual night for Stiles, speeding down the road towards the Hale house late at night
after receiving a text from Scott. Apparently the idiots somehow managed to release a bunch
of pixies and now required his help in capturing and sealing them back up. Why they needed
his help was beyond him though, weren’t werewolves supposed to be faster? Whatever.

Stiles frowned, why was the road getting so hard to concentrate on all of a sudden? Shit. He
hadn’t had a problem with his eyes in a while, he’d almost forgotten about it. Until now that
is, and it was hitting hard.

Stiles lost nearly all his vision for what seemed like only a few seconds, everything dark and
obscured. When he regained enough of his vision to see the road again Stiles tensed, foot
instinctively going for the brakes but it was too late.

The sickening screech of tires and scraping metal reached his ears. Felt the Jeep flipping and
flipping and flipping. Felt his body being tossed around like a ragdoll and thank God he’d put
his seatbelt on. It wasn’t anything like you saw in movies or read in books. There was no
slow motion life flashing before your eyes bullshit. It was fast, hard, and so so painful. His
face stung like hell and he was pretty sure it had been cut up by broken glass. There was a
pain blooming in his skull, he probably slammed it into the side of the Jeep as it rolled. Who
knows what else was broken.

His whole body hurt and Stiles found himself thinking about whoever was in the other car,
hoping they were better off than he was. That’s Stiles for you, always thinking about others
before himself.

Stiles vision was fading again, but this time it wasn’t just his eyes, it was everything. He was
losing consciousness. His dad was going to have a heart attack when he finds out about this,
he was going to put his father in an early grave and the thought made Stiles sick. How could
he do this to his dad? He was such a shitty shitty son, always making his father worried or
upset. And now Stiles had a sickening feeling that he wasn’t going to be able to hide what
was going on with his eyes anymore. Well, if he manages to make it out of this wreck alive
that is....

….Mom didn’t....

The darkness was closing in on him now and Stiles didn’t have the strength to fight it off any
longer, he couldn’t even move. A moment of terror passed through him, what if he let the
darkness take him and he didn’t wake up again? But then a more depressing thought crossed
his mind... Everyone would probably be better off without him anyways.

As the last of his wakefulness slipped away one last thought crossed Stiles’ mind.

He should have just fucking pulled over.

Everything ached. Moving wasn’t even an option for Stiles, if he tried it just shot pain
through his body. So Stiles was perfectly content to just lay there for the time being.
Speaking of, where exactly was “there”?

Stiles didn’t dare open his eyes. But not for fear of what he would see, but for fear of what he
wouldn’t. So he kept his eyes shut and instead used his other senses to determine things. He
definitely wasn’t in his Jeep anymore, if the soft sheets covering him were anything to go by.
So he was in a bed, a hospital bed would be his first guess. He wasn’t going to jump to any
conclusions just yet though, for all he knew he could have been kidnapped while he was
unconscious.

Stiles focused on his hearing next since his mobility was limited. And while Stiles didn’t
have any werewolf super hearing, the room was quiet, making it easier to pick up on things.
Except there really wasn’t much going on. He could hear his own breathing and heartbeat,
which was a good thing he supposed, he wasn’t dead...yet. And then there was the beeping.
Stiles didn’t have to see the source to know what it was. He’d been in hospitals long enough
throughout his life to recognize the beeping of medical machinery. Medical machinery that he
was most likely hooked up to right now.

Stiles jumped a little when he heard the handle turning and the door to his room opening
briefly, letting in a stream of new sounds: people scurrying about and chattering away,
phones ringing, the general hustle and bustle you’d expect from a hospital. But then
everything went quiet again as the door closed with a soft click.

So now the new question was, who was in the room with him?

Even though he knew where he was in general, Stiles was still wary. Not even a hospital was
a safe place from baddies. Matt had proven that when he had waltzed in and killed that
woman after the kanima failed to do so. Nowhere was safe so yeah, Stiles was going to be
wary if he damn well pleased.

The person was shuffling around slowly and there was a scraping noise next to his bed which
Stiles assumed was the person pulling up a chair. The rustling of fabric told him the person
was seating himself and Stiles belatedly realized he was actually quite good at using his ears
to asses his surroundings and what was happening. It scared him to think that he might have
to rely on that skill soon.

And then there was a weary sigh. A sigh Stiles painfully wished he didn’t know so well. A
sigh Stiles wished hadn’t increased in quantity after all this werewolf and supernatural crap
started up. A sigh that Stiles regretted being the cause of every time.

It was his dad.

Stiles must have twitched or something because suddenly there was a large, calloused hand
gripping his own and then he could hear a strained voice which, yep, that was his father all
right.

“Stiles?”
God he sounded so worried, “Dad. Dad I’m- I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass. I’m sorry for constantly
lying to you. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you. I’m sorry we’ve drifted apart so
much. I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared. I’m sorry, I’m
sorry, I’m sorry.

Stiles didn’t notice himself crying until there was a hand stroking through his hair and his
father was hugging him,whispering “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

His dad held onto him and Stiles fiercely clung back. His dad told him what happened while
he was unconscious. The other driver was okay, only a few cuts and bruises, and had called
911 when he saw Stiles’ condition. Stiles had some broken ribs, some internal bleeding, and
at one point the doctors had to resuscitate him when he went into shock. Stiles had gone into
surgery and the doctors fixed him up as much as they could, but now it was up to his body to
do the rest.

His father stopped here in his narration and Stiles could tell by the way his arms tightened
around him that his dad didn’t want to have to say whatever it was that was on his mind.
Stiles tightened his own arms around his dad, his face buried in the crook of his neck.

“Stiles. The doctors- they found a problem. With your- with your...”

His father wasn’t able to finish his sentence, but Stiles didn’t need him to. This was the
moment he’d been dreading. Stiles could care less about the injuries he’d received in the car
crash right now, those would heal.

But this? Stiles wasn’t sure he would be coming back from this. Ever. And it terrified him.
Shook him to the core, literally, he was shaking in his father’s arms right now. Stiles was
fairly certain if he hadn’t seen -ha! the irony- this moment coming beforehand, he would be
having a panic attack by this point.

But, he had known this was coming. Had tried to deny in his own mind what was happening
to him. And now he was suffering the consequences of his denial, of his cowardice.

So as he opened his eyes for the first time since his wakefulness, only to be met with a
numbing darkness, that microscopic bit of hope he’d had left crushed, he only had one thing
to say.

“I know dad. I know.”

 Chapter 3

Scott was the first one to visit him in the hospital, besides his dad obviously. It made sense
Scott would be the first one to know about it seeing how his mother worked at the hospital.
Wait, so he lied. Ms. McKall came in after his dad to check up on him. Then Scott was next.
It was hard to remember details when he was drugged up on painkillers most the time.

Scott was fretting over him the whole time, like a mother hen. Stiles totally called him out on
it and they playfully argued over it. It was nice. It was normal

It was tense.

Scott was tiptoeing around him, around his condition. Stiles could tell just by his voice that it
made Scott uncomfortable. Stiles yelled at Scott when his friend handed him the water he’d
been reaching out for that had been set on his bedside table. He yelled he didn’t need a stupid
seeing eye dog to help him.

He immediately regretted the outburst and apologized. Scott forgave him.

Stiles jumped when Scott suddenly hugged him, hating that he did. They had a bro moment
where they manly-hugged it out. It reminded Stiles of when they were younger and he got
bad panic attacks after his mom passed away. Scott would just sit there and hug Stiles until
he’d calm down. He’d sit there no matter how long it took.

Stiles briefly found himself wishing he could go back in time, when things were simpler.

------

Scott would visit every other day or so, sometimes Allison would be there with him.

They would talk about what was going on outside the hospital, what was happening at
school. Stiles would nod and participate in the conversation, but really he didn’t care. Too
busy processing the fact that he was blind. He’d never be able to see his friends faces again.
He’d never be able to see anything again.

They spoke differently to him now too. Like they were trying to think about everything they
were going to say before they said it. But sometimes they would slip and say something like,
“You should have seen-” and they’d start apologizing profusely.

Allison would sound so flustered and upset when she thought she’d said something that
would offend Stiles.

But all Stiles could do was smile, shake his head and tell them it was alright. Because that’s
what he did right? He was the happy one, the one to always make jokes, even at his own
expense.

Stiles always smiled.

------

Surprisingly enough, his next visitors were Lydia and Jackson. Though Stiles would bet
Jackson wasn’t there by choice, more likely Lydia had forced Jackson to come.

Stiles thinks he’d prefered that Jackson hadn’t shown up at all. He doesn’t need another thing
for Jackson to tease him about. They weren’t friends, despite all they’d been through
together. Jackson didn’t give a flying fuck about him, and Stiles wouldn’t care if that never
changed.

Lydia though. Amazing goddess-in-a-mortal-body Lydia. She got it.

She somehow understood what Stiles wanted. Which wasn’t people tiptoeing around him,
treating him like a fragile object. She got that he didn’t want anyone to talk to him or treat
him any differently now than they had before. She got that Stiles just wanted things to be
normal.

Lydia treated him like she usually would, with a quick wit and biting remarks. She didn’t try
and filter anything she said. Jackson. Well Jackson just sat there quietly the whole time,
which Stiles was grateful for whether it was for Stiles’ sake or not.

When it was time for them to leave Stiles called out a quiet thank you to Lydia, to which she
responded with, “Don’t thank me Stilinski. I didn’t do anything special.” Stiles imagined her
flipping her strawberry locks and smiled.

A real smile.

------

After a few weeks the doctors released Stiles from the hospital but he was still pretty much
on bed rest. It was okay though, Stiles much prefered being stuck in his own bed as opposed
to the hospital bed.

Getting up the stairs to his bedroom was more of an ordeal than Stiles would have imagined
it to be. For one his body was still sore and protested any kind of movement. Secondly,
despite having walked up and down these steps his entire life, not being able to actually see
them was extremely disorienting. Even with his dad helping him Stiles tripped numerous
times.

Stiles tried not to get frustrated with himself, he knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Knew he
wasn’t going to be able to just start where he left off, like he wasn’t blind.

He let out a sigh of relief when they finally made it to his room, Stiles practically collapsing
onto his bed as his dad went back downstairs to fix them some lunch. Home sweet home.
Right?

Even after a week of being back home, Stiles still didn’t get any visits from anyone other
than Scott, Allison, or occasionally Lydia.
It surprised him really. He had at least expected to be checked up on by one of the betas, even
if just briefly. But nope, no werewolves -besides Scott- hovering around him like a nervous
dog. He had assumed he and the betas were friends. They hung out at school together, they
hung out at Derek’s house together, and they were constantly pulling each other out of
dangerous situations.

So what gives?

Derek on the other hand was a different matter. Stiles wasn’t really sure what their
relationship was. And he’d use the word friends tentatively, if not only occasionally. It’s not
that Stiles didn’t like Derek, he did in a weird way. But Derek was, well Derek. Reluctant to
let anyone in. Despite the numerous amounts of times they’ve saved each others lives. So
Stiles really wasn’t all that surprised that he didn’t have an alpha werewolf climbing through
his window in the middle of the night.

But despite not being surprised by Derek’s absence, he couldn’t stop the little inkling of hurt
that crept its way inside his chest.

------
 Chapter 4

It’s been a little over a month since his accident, and Stiles is doing alright. He’s
reacquainting himself with the house and other things in his new state. He has a private tutor
who comes to the house to teach him braille and other useful techniques to using his senses to
get around. Stiles, thank God, picks things up fairly quickly which means on an intellectual
level Stiles doesn’t get frustrated with himself for not being able to read braille, because he
can. Quite well actually.

Getting around is another matter altogether though. It’s not like he doesn’t put to use what his
teacher has taught him, he does, but his limbs have always been against him from the
beginning. They do what they want. And what they want to do is make Stiles trip over
everything. Everything.

Stiles was sure he had bruises all over his legs by this point.

It was only when he wanted to do something or move around the house that he got frustrated
with himself. He was constantly bumping into things or tripping over them. He couldn’t cook
for him or his dad. He wanted to. Cooking was the one thing he had left of his mother and
now he couldn’t even do that.

His dad was constantly doing everything for him, he’d even taken a lot of time of work.
Stiles had no idea how they were paying for the medical bill let alone their own groceries.
And whenever his dad wasn’t home, Scott was usually there and he was just as bad as Stiles’
dad.

Stiles was in the kitchen one afternoon, the house for once empty of any busybodies wanting
to treat him like a child who couldn’t do anything for himself.

He was slowly making his way to the fridge to get a mid afternoon snack. he shuffled his feet
along the ground to make sure there wasn’t anything obstructing his path -he hated using that
stupid cane- a hand sweeping to and fro feeling the wall and the cabinets and finally the
fridge.

Success! Stiles managed to make it down from his room and all the way into the kitchen with
minimal damage done to his shins!

Stiles had just finished rummaging around for some cheese sticks and a can of soda when he
heard the distinct noise of someone knocking on the front door.

He set his items down on the counter before shuffling his way over to the door, fumbling for
the doorknob for a moment. Stiles was just going to open the door but then thought better of
it so he paused, “Who is it?”

A muffled reply of, “It’s us.” reached his ears and Stiles was surprised to recognize Erica’s
voice. So Stiles could only assume when she said “us” she was referring to Isaac, Boyd, and
herself. Stiles unlocked the door, swinging it open with a grin, “Took you guys long enough!”
he said jokingly. He heard them shuffle into the hallway, but they didn’t say anything which
made Stiles’ smile falter.

He hated not being able to see peoples faces, not knowing how they were feeling.

They must have sensed his discomfort at the silence because suddenly Erica was hugging him
(he could tell from her smaller frame and obviously she had boobs). Isaac gave him a hug
after Erica finally conceded to let him go and Boyd gave him a pat on the back.

Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly and ushered them all into the living room, carefully
making his way to the comfy chair his dad usually sat in. He was glad none of the betas tried
to help him.

It was Isaac who spoke first, “We just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” his voice
was timid, like he was afraid of the answer.

Stiles shrugged, turning his head towards Isaac’s voice so he was actually facing the others,
“Well considering everything that’s happened- I’m fine.”

There was another strained silence and Stiles idly wondered if he looked different now.
Obviously his eyes would, clouded over with a milky white color. Maybe it made them
uncomfortable? “So.... Why didn’t you guys visit sooner? I’ve had a lot of free time lately.”
He let out a small chuckle that didn’t half as amused as he would’ve liked.

There was some shuffling around and it was Erica that spoke next, “We- we’ve been busy...
With pack things... Sorry Stiles.”

That was clearly a lie, Stiles didn’t need to hear their heartbeats to know. It sounded like they
were reluctant to talk about it. It only made more questions burn on the tip of his tongue but
sometimes Stiles did have some tact so he let the issue drop for now.

They suffered through about fifteen minutes of strained and stunted conversation. He tried to
ask how Derek was doing but the betas seemed reluctant to talk about him for some reason,
ungracefully skirting around the subject. Stiles got the feeling that they were itching to leave
so he made up an excuse of being tired, not caring if they caught the lie or not. They seemed
happy to leave anyways, saying quick goodbyes before scurrying out the front door.

Stiles shuffled back into the kitchen, grabbing his abandoned cheese sticks and soda and
sitting down at the small table he and his dad used. He thought over what had just happened.
If the betas cared about how he was fairing -which he genuinely believed they did- why
wouldn’t they want to come and visit him? And why didn’t they want to talk about Derek?

Stiles lifted the can to his lips, but it never reached its destination as a thought struck Stiles.
Could it be possible that- that Derek had ordered them to stay was from Stiles?

That inkling of hurt that had nestled itself in Stiles’ chest weeks before suddenly bloomed
into something more painful.

------
 Chapter 5

Stiles didn’t bring Derek up much to anyone after that, only every once in awhile. A the
result was always the same, his question being dismissed or shot down completely.

Stiles was more quiet, but he was hurting and he wasn’t really sure why so he didn’t feel like
talking. Not even to Scott. He could tell his dad was starting to worry about him so he did his
best to reassure him that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid or hurt himself. His dad had
finally started going to work full time again and Stiles didn’t want him to think he had to
watch Stiles 24/7.

Stiles worst fear was being realized, the pack was distancing itself from him. He hadn’t heard
from the betas since the first time they had spontaneously showed up at his door. And even
Scott was constantly canceling plans or having to leave early because of something pack
related. At least Scott had the decency to not lie to his face about it.

Today was another one of those days. Scott had called minutes before, sounding guilty and
ashamed as he told Stiles something had come up. Stiles just brushed him telling him, “Go,
it’s okay.” Stiles was sure they both knew it wasn’t.

Stiles was sick of this shit. He was sick and tired of being ditched and lied to without any sort
of explanation as to why. So he was blind now, so what. Why did that mean he had to lose all
his friends?

Why the fuck would Derek do this to him?

Stiles waited until his dad had left for work. He grabbed his phone off his desk, praising the
technology gods for voice recognition. “Directions. Hale house.” Stiles had programmed it
into his phone long ago so he could actually find the house without having to stumble blindly
-ha- through the woods.

He made his way downstairs, grabbed his house keys and tugged his jacket tighter around
him. Stiles took a deep breath and opened the door, taking his first steps outside since he’d
been back from the hospital.

No turning back now.

Stiles walked very slowly, making sure he listened to the directions his phone was giving him
carefully. His journey started getting scarier when he couldn’t hear the sounds of the town
any more. It meant he was venturing into the woods and had every potential to get lost. And
if Stiles got lost in the woods it wasn’t like there was an abundance of people who would see
him stumbling around and help him back home.

Thanks to another amazing voice recognition app on his phone that told him the time, Stiles
found out he’d been walking for a little over two hours before he finally heard some
commotion in the forest around him. He’d spent enough time around the pack to recognize
the sounds of them sparring or just fooling around in general.
He did it. Stiles actually did it! He made his way from his house and to the pack without
getting run over or mauled by an animal! Stiles did a happy dance in his head.

Suddenly the noises stopped and the forest was quiet except for the wind rustling the leaves
in the trees. But almost as soon as it had stopped it started up again. And it was getting closer.

So the pack knew he was here then.

Well... This should be interesting.

He could hear leaves and twigs crunching underfoot as the pack drew closer and Stiles just
waited for them to come. He heard Scott first, his friend calling his name in confusion. Stiles
wanted to smirk, yeah that’s right, Stiles wasn’t useless, he could get around if he wanted too.
Take that you stupid werewolves!

Stiles’ confidence boosting moment came to an abrupt halt when suddenly there were large
hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, and he yelped in surprise. Damn.

“What the hell are you doing here Stiles!? Did- did you walk here? Idiot! You could have
died Stiles! Died!” It was Derek at him, and his concern just pissed him off.

Stiles shoved Derek away and surprisingly Derek let himself be pushed away. “I already did!
I was dead for three minutes Derek! Three minutes!” Stiles was fuming, everything that had
built up after the accident was spilling out now and Stiles couldn’t stop it.

“But you wouldn’t know about that would you? Because you don’t care! Not once did you
come and make sure I was okay! So no! You don’t get to be all caring and shit now! You
haven’t cared for two months, why start now huh? I’m just a useless blind human now! I
don’t even have friends anymore! And why is that? Oh yeah, you told them to stay away
from me! You’re an asshole Derek Hale!”

Stiles was panting heavily and, he was only guessing here, but his face was probably red as a
tomato. His fingernails were digging into his palms from how hard he was clenching them.
Everyone was quiet and Stiles really wished he could see them.

“I do care. I just-” Derek let out a frustrated huff and Stiles pictured his eyebrows furrowing
together, “I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with us...with- me.”

It was Stiles’ turn to furrow his eyebrows, “Why the hell would you think that?”

“Because! It was my fault! It was my fault you got into an accident. I told Scott to call you
when we really didn’t need you there for that- don’t give me that look that’s not what I mean-
I’m saying we could’ve handled it on our own that time. And now you’re blind Stiles,
because of me!”

Stiles was shocked by Derek’s outburst, it actually had emotion! And Stiles was pretty sure
that was the most Derek had ever said to him in one go, seriously. All his anger dissipated
from his body and Stiles actually started to laugh.
He bent over himself he laughed so hard. He was sure the others were thinking he lost his
mind.

“You dumb ass.” There was no heat behind the words, “You always blame yourself, even
when it’s not your fault. My sight was deteriorating weeks before the accident. I was just too
chicken shit to tell anyone.”

Stiles scoffed at himself, “The accident didn’t cause my blindness, my blindness caused the
accident. It’s not your fault. So stop avoiding me asshole!” It was said with some amusement
and even maybe a little fondness.

And very quickly Stiles found his arms full of werewolves. He patted each of their heads,
noticing a little sadly Derek hadn’t joined in the feels jam they were having.

After the others got in all the Stiles time they wanted, they started leading him in what Stiles
assumed was the direction of the Hale house. Derek still hadn’t said anything, and if Stiles
couldn’t hear each individual’s footsteps he would’ve thought Derek had just disappeared.
But no, he was there, taking up the rear of the group.

The pack members were taking turns talking eagerly to him. About anything and everything,
and Stiles smiled at the thought that this is how he must seem to other people. Always
talking. But this was nice, he’d missed them, and apparently they had missed him, a lot,
judging how they kept telling him so every minute.

Every now and then he’d get a subtle nudge or pull in a certain direction, which Stiles was
guessing was the pack making sure he didn’t run into any trees. He was grateful for that,
because he’d done it a few- okay maybe a lot- of times on his way here.

Stiles could tell when they stepped out into the clearing in front of the Hale house, less tree
cover to block the wind and the ambience was slightly different. Stiles was proud at how well
he could use his ears to assess his surroundings.

The wolves all rushed into the house, probably all hungry from Derek’s strict training regime.
Stiles had one foot on the first step of the porch when he felt Derek’s hand on his shoulder,
making him pause and turn in his direction. Then there was what felt like Derek’s nose in his
hair and Stiles swore he heard a muffled, “Missed you” before Derek was gone just as
quickly as he’d been there.

Stiles blinked a couple times in surprise, still paused on the step. Slowly a smile broke over
his face and he bounded up the steps, eager to rejoin his friends.

That blossoming pain in his chest was being melted away by something much, much warmer.

------
 Chapter 6

Stiles woke one Saturday morning to someone shaking him gently and calling his name.

Stiles groaned, pulling the covers tighter around him and rolling over and away from
whoever was daring to disturb his precious weekend sleep-in time. He was just starting to fall
back to sleep when the covers were ripped away from him and he was forcefully shoved off
his bed and onto the floor.

Stiles squawked flailing for a moment on the floor, using the bed to pull himself back up into
a sitting position. “The hell!? Who did that?”

When all Stiles got in reply was silence he immediately narrowed his eyes, “Derek.”

Stiles heard a quiet scoff, yep Derek, and grinned, pleased with himself. “What’s up man? It
better be important for waking me up so rudely.” There was no heat behind the words. After
things had been cleared up between Derek and him things had pretty much gone back to
normal with Stiles and the pack.

“Get dressed. We’re going out.”

Stiles sputtered for a moment, “Come again?”

“You. Me. Forest. Training. Get dressed.”

“O-oh! That kind of going out! Right! Getting dressed now!”

Stiles clambered up off the floor, imagining Derek giving him that look that was especially
formulated for Stiles. That look that said, you’re an idiot but I tolerate you anyways. Stiles
rummaged through his closet, pulling a shirt off a hanger and slipping it over his head. He
slipped out of his sweats and walked over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and
pulling them on.

Stiles could navigate his room pretty well by now since it was the room he spent the most
time in. Other rooms he’d still bump into things every once in awhile, mostly because his dad
would move something and Stiles wouldn’t know.

Stiles was pretty happy with how things in his life were going now. His dad was back in
work, confident now that Stiles would be fine on his own. He wasn’t going to school but he
didn’t really miss it anyways, Stiles especially didn’t miss being bullied around by Mr.
Harris. Besides, he had a home tutor so he was still getting a good education.

After Stiles brushed his teeth and used the restroom he was pretty much ready to go, just
grabbing his phone and house keys off his night stand. He headed for the stairs, knowing
Derek would follow him (which he did, Stiles could hear the faint footsteps and he was pretty
sure the only reason he could hear Derek at all was because the werewolf was being
courteous of his disability).
Stiles was just passing the kitchen, on his way to the front door, when he heard his dad call
out.

“You and Derek be safe alright Stiles?”

Stiles whipped around in surprise, almost tripping over his own feet. “D-dad! You’re home!
Aaand know that Derek’s taking me out. Heh.”

His dad let’s out a little huff, “Of course I’m home Stiles. It’s Saturday morning, I don’t work
all the time! And yes I know Derek’s taking you out to help you. I figured why not since you
and your friends seem to hang out with him most of the time anyways. Don’t deny it, I’m not
stupid. Besides Derek told me one of his family members was blind, so I figured he actually
could help.”

Stiles was surprised to say the least. His dad, the sheriff, was actually giving him permission
to just drive off with Derek Hale. The guy his dad had arrested a few years back.

Welp. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth right?

Stiles and his father exchanged farewells, Derek remaining unsurprisingly silent the whole
time, and then they were out the door.Derek led Stiles over to the Camaro by means of a light
hand on his shoulder.

Derek was mostly silent for the duration of the car ride, only grunting and humming at
appropriate moments to show that he was listening. This was okay with Stiles because he had
more than enough to say for the both of them.

He talked about his new tutor, a nice older woman named Mrs. Marriot. He talked about how
much he had hated his chemistry teacher. He talked about how he thought he might pick up
running now that he didn’t have lacrosse to keep him in shape. Stiles talked about how it was
kinda cool that he could hear things better now, and how even his taste buds had seemed to
amplify different flavours.

It barely seemed two minutes had gone by before Derek was pulling off the main road and on
to a more rugged terrain.

When Stiles was sure the ride had come to a complete and full stop he unbuckled and hopped
out, listening as Derek did the same a moment later. “So what’s on the agenda for today my
compadre?”

Derek started walking off into the woods, grunting out, “training” as he did so.

Stiles huffed (sounding a lot like his father Stiles realized) in mild irritation. “No shit
Sherlock, you already told me that. But what are we training?”

“Your ears.” Was Derek’s only reply.

Stiles just rolled his eyes and shook his head. And if maybe perhaps he even smiled a little
fondly, well no one had to know.
They walked in silence, Stiles following the sound of Derek’s footsteps crunching through
the leaves on the forest floor. Stiles lost track of how much time went by as they walked, he
wasn’t really paying attention.

But then suddenly Derek’s presence in front of Stiles was gone, and Stiles could no longer
hear Derek’s footsteps. He turned in a circle trying to listen for anything that would tell him
where Derek had gone.

Nothing.

“Derek?” Stiles called out, a little worried.

There was a sudden gust of wind and something brushing up against his arm. Stiles whipped
around, eyes wide but unseeing, “Derek?!”

“Calm down Stiles.” Derek called out from...somewhere. He was moving, fast, Stiles could
tell that much by the way his voice drifted and fluctuated. “I want you to reach out and grab
me as I pass you, using your ears to indicate my position.”

Stiles gave a skeptical look in Derek’s general direction. His hearing may have improved to
compensate for the loss of his vision, but it still wasn’t anything near werewolf hearing.

Derek went barreling past Stiles again, startling him out of his thoughts, “Focus Stiles.”

“Alright alright...”

------

Stiles was sure they had been out there for a few hours at least before Stiles finally, finally
managed to get ahold of Derek.

The happy dance he did after the fact was probably really embarrassing but oh well, he’d
done it!

But then Derek, being the Sourwolf he is, had to spoil the mood, “You know this probably
wouldn’t have taken so long if you had actually brought and used your cane.”

Stiles scowled at that word, “I hate that cane, it makes me feel like I’m disabled..”

“Technically-”

“Shut up Derek, the cane is dumb.”

“You’re dumb.”

A beat of silence and then Stiles was cracking up, “Nice come back dude.” Stiles smiled as he
laughed and it made him wonder what Derek’s expression looked like right now. Was he
frowning? Smiling? Or maybe it was that frown that said he was trying really hard not to
smile.
Stiles’ laughter died out, a mild sadness painting his features as he sat down in the grass to
rest. He could hear Derek’s soft footfall coming closer and then the rustle of fabric as Derek
sat down next to him.

“What’s wrong Stiles?”

Stiles sighed, head tipping forward, “Nothing, just. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Stiles.” Derek used that tone of voice that said, “Start talking. I’m not asking.”

Stiles sighed again, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. “It’s just... I wish I could see
you, everyone. I don’t like not knowing what peoples expressions are, what they’re feeling.
The voice only goes so far.”

Stiles frowned, picking at the blades of grass below him just to give his hands something to
do. “I- I’ve started forgetting. Or well it’s just harder to recall. What my dad’s face looks like,
Scott’s face... Your face. This happened when my mom died, but then I could just look at a
picture and be reminded. Now I can’t even do that.”

There was shuffling next to him and Stiles thought for a moment that Derek didn’t want to
hear his pathetic sob story and was going to leave. But he didn't. Instead he sat back down in
front of Stiles and said, “Remind yourself.”

Stiles lifted his head, casting a confused look Derek’s way, “What?”

Derek let out a gruff puff of air that Stiles actually felt blow across his face. Wow Derek was
close. “Remind yourself.” he repeated like those two words were supposed to make Stiles
understand.

Oh wait. Stiles did understand.

Tentatively Stiles lifted his hands, like Derek was suddenly change his mind and bite his
appendages off. He rested his hands on either side of Derek’s face for a moment, fingers
twitching slightly. The stubble was still there. The frown however was not, but there wasn’t a
smile either. Just a neutral expression. Stiles moved his hands over the familiar cheek bones
and strong jaw. Then his hands wandered up, fingers dancing at the edges of closed eyelids,
then up further to a slightly furrowed brow.

Stiles smiled softly as his hand wandered up further to run a couple times through Derek’s
surprisingly soft hair. “Who knew I’d actually miss your ugly mug huh?” Stiles teased.

Derek shoved him backwards lightly, huffing again. But this time Stiles thought he felt a brief
smile forming under his fingertips and he grinned.
 Chapter 7

The weeks flew by like that.

Home tutoring, hanging out with the pack, running, and then one on one training sessions
with Derek on the weekends. It was good. Spending time with Derek was good.

The pack would always snicker at him because apparently he “reeked” of Derek now, and
apparently the pack had a twisted definition of training. Immature that’s what they were. And
Stiles would deny with every fiber of his being that he wished sometimes the pack’s twisted
definition of training is what was actually going on when Derek took him out.

But no such luck.

Today had been another training day, but mostly they just focused on running today (they did
not play tag nope). Never in a million years had Stiles pictured himself hanging out and
having fun with Derek. But here he was, sprawled on the grass trying to catch his breath with
Derek sitting next to him, not even winded the werewolf bastard. They’d gotten closer and
Stiles would even consider them friends.

“Hey Derek. Did you actually have a family member who was blind?” Stiles knew that
Derek’s family hadn’t only consist of werewolves, but humans as well, so it was entirely
possible that one of them could have been blind.

“No. I just figured your father would be more willing to hand you over to me if I’d had
experience helping the blind.” Oh yeah, that was another thing. Derek actually spoke to him
now.

Stiles nodded, seeing the sense in Derek’s explanation. But then again, his father was the
sheriff, a walking lie detector. And he’d interrogated Derek before, his dad probably knew
Derek’s story was total bull. Huh.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“I had that conversation with your dad weeks ago.”

Stiles turned his head towards Derek, giving a lopsided grin, “My brain jumps around. A lot.
You should know this by now!”

Derek just snorted in amusement, “You’re so weird.”

“Yeah, but you love me for it!”

“Yeah. I do.”

There was a beat of silence where they were both trying to process what had just been said.
And then there was hurried shuffling as Derek tried to push himself off the ground and away
from Stiles, like he was going to bite or something. But somehow, thankfully, Stiles was
quicker this time. He grabbed the sleeve of Derek’s shirt, tugging him back, and surprisingly
Derek did fall backwards onto his ass right next to Stiles.

The werewolf must have been really flustered for that to happen.

“Shit- Stiles! I didn’t- fuck-”

Stiles decided to shut Derek up. With his mouth.

Stiles surged forward in the direction he hoped was Derek’s mouth. It was not. Stiles ended
up smashing his nose together with Derek’s and Derek had been closer than he thought. Stiles
jerked back, clutching his face with one hand, the other around Derek’s wrist keeping him in
place. Not that he’d ever stand a chance against Derek’s werewolf strength.

“Ow fuck, that didn’t go as smoothly as I planned.”

“The hell were you trying to do Stiles? Eat my face?”

“In a sense. I was trying to kiss you dumbass!”

There was a moment of silence between them, which involved Derek thankfully staying put.
“You- you want to kiss me?” There was disbelief in Derek’s voice and it made Stiles sad,
knowing Derek didn’t think himself worthy of something good that was all just for him.

“Yes you stupid werewolf. I want to kiss you, I want to be with you. I’ll take it all, the good
and the bad.” Stiles slowly moved the hand that was gripping Derek’s wrist down until it was
holding the werewolf’s hand instead. His grip wasn’t constricting though, in case Derek
decided he didn’t want this and want to pull away.

Sties heart skipped a beat or two when Derek’s hand actually squeezed back. “Why?”

Stiles smiled, of course he’d want to know why, “Because I know there is more good in you
than bad. Because you’re always there for me when I need you. Because I know you care
about the pack, don’t even argue I know. And even if you don’t go about it the best way, I
know you’re just trying to do the right thing. And I know we both have our holes that aren’t
easily repaired and for most people they wouldn’t be able to handle that... But I think it just
makes us understand each other better. We see each other.”

Yes. Derek and Stiles saw each other. They saw each other for the damaged but good people
they were. And they accepted it.

------

Stiles opened his mouth to say more but he never got the chance. Which was totally fine with
him because Derek was pressing their lips together in a proper kiss. It made butterflies
explode in his stomach and his eyes slid closed.
They sat there for God knows how long, just leaning into each other and sharing kisses. It
was the most amazing experience of Stiles’ life thus far. When they broke for air they were
both panting lightly as they rested their foreheads together.

At some point their fingers had twined together, Derek’s other hand found its way to Stiles’
face and Stiles’ hand had found Derek’s knee.

“Stiles.” Derek put so much emotion behind his name it was breathtaking. So Stiles just
leaned forward, kissing Derek again.

And this time Stiles was positive he felt a returning smile against his lips.

------

Of course practically as soon as he got home his dad knew what had gone down. He blamed
the stupid grin plastered to his face that refused to go away. The sheriff just sighed, shaking
his head and mumbling something along the lines of “knew this was gonna happen”. So
Stiles had to suffer through “The Talk” again.

Kissing Derek was totally worth listening to his dad awkwardly talk about safe sex and
healthy relationships though.

------

If Stiles had thought his dad finding out had been quick, the pack knew almost
instantaneously.

It was another pack gathering night at the Hale house. A night designated only for movies,
junk food, and carefree happiness. Stiles had gotten a ride over with Scott and Allison, and as
he stepped through the threshold of the house he barely had time to even consider if Derek
wanted to keep their relationship a secret (a thought Stiles would later revisit and deem stupid
immediately because werewolves). Because suddenly Derek was there in his space (he could
tell it was Derek, the alpha just had a certain presence about him) and Derek was...he was
nuzzling him.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, allowing the werewolf to get his nuzzle on, smiling
when he heard Scott’s confused “wha-?” and Allison’s soft “awww”. Stiles could even hear
the other betas’ snickering in the room next to them and something about it being “about
damn time”.

Stiles rolls his eyes. Werewolves.

------
 Chapter 8

Stiles should have seen this coming. Thing were too good, too quiet around town. Things
were good in the pack, things were good with Derek, his dad.

Obviously things weren’t perfect. Stiles and Derek still argued, the pack was still a bunch of
unruly teenagers half the time. School (Mr. Harris) was a bitch. But things were fine for once.
Nothing evil or supernatural to worry about.

The other shoes always drops.

Which is why Stiles finds himself Running through the woods in the middle of the night,
trying to outrun... whatever that thing is that the wolves are currently trying to preoccupy.

It’s not going so well.

Stiles keeps running into trees and tripping over things, scraping up his hands and face. He
can feel blood trickling down his forehead and he really fucking wished he had that stupid
cane with him right now.

The sounds of the creature and the wolves aren’t getting any further away, if anything it’s
getting closer and Stiles has a horrifying moment of realization. The thing is chasing him.

All too suddenly Stiles finds his feet being swept out from under him and a blood curdling
screech sounds in his ears. Stiles flips onto his back, unseeing eyes wide with terror as he
tries to get his feet back under him.

It’s a useless effort.

Stiles can’t even scream, the pain has taken everything out of him. His body goes limp, every
ounce of energy seeps out of him as razor sharp claws tear into his chest. And just as quickly
as they’d been there, they were gone again. Stiles could barely hear anything past the ringing
in his ears, though he could make out the sounds of something dying. Hopefully it wasn’t
anyone in the pack.

Stiles startled a bit as big hands enveloped his face but calmed moments later. Derek. There
was so much he wanted to say to the man, most importantly I love you, but the blood in his
throat wouldn’t allow it.

Then there was a new pain blossoming on the juncture of his throat and shoulder. It was sharp
and brief and Stiles was distantly aware of Scott’s muffled voice screaming in anger, it
seemed to be directed at Derek.

Why was Scott yelling at Derek? It wasn’t his fault Stiles was dying. Stiles didn't have any
more time to contemplate anything as his mind was plunged into nothingness.

------
Stiles jerked awake, sweating and breathing hard. The first thing he noticed was that things
were too bright and he had to squint his eyes. His hands went to his chest, almost hesitantly,
but all he felt was smooth, unblemished skin.

And everything sort of slotted into place.

The pain he’d felt on his neck... Derek had bitten him. And his eyes... Stiles brought a hand
up to his face and there was his hand. No darkness. Stiles was about to have a freak out but
then a movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention. He turned his head to find
Derek slumped in a chair next to his, wait no Derek’s he was in Derek’s room, so Derek’s
bed.

Derek looked pale and worn, like he hadn’t been sleeping much, which he probably hadn’t
been if Stiles knew him. He looked like he’d been crying. Derek looked more broken than
ever and Stiles wanted that look to go away.

As soon as Derek was awake enough, grunting as he stretched out stiff limbs, he noticed
Stiles staring back at him. His whole posture changed, he sat up straighter, instantly alert.
Derek leaned forward taking hold of one of Stiles’ hands gently, a worried and guilty look on
his face.

It took a moment for Stiles to figure out why Derek would be guilty, but then he remembered
that Derek had bitten him, and Stiles had been clear with everyone that he was perfectly
happy to be human.

“Stiles I- I’m so sor-”

Stiles took his hand out of Derek’s, noticing the hurt flicker across the wolf’s face, but Stiles
just reached up, placing his fingers against Derek’s lips to shut him up. Which he did.

Stiles smiled, bright and happy even as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He smiled
until Derek smiled back at him.

“I see you. I love you.”

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