headlong 89/?
Feb. 6th, 2012 12:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
januarylightI have not forgotten this exists! This is really short, but the rest should be up tomorrow.
*
Derek is gone when Stiles wakes up. Stiles tries to make breakfast himself; he burns it horribly but eats it anyway. He keeps checking his phone for messages from Derek in his lecture, but all he gets are increasingly weird texts from Danny. denial he returns, aren’t u supposed to try n convert the pretty ones? He ignores Danny’s response, all-caps and indecipherable even to Stiles, but eventually tells him stop making him do all the work. mean, because he feels the need to re-establish his good-friend credentials after last night.
He’s feeling pretty good about it until he gets, no longer friends. Whatever, who cares what Danny thinks, Jackson will thank him later.
There’s still nothing from Derek when Stiles gets out for lunch, and he doesn’t recall a single word he’s heard today, so he gives up the ghost and goes home.
Derek isn’t there, and Stiles hangs around for a few minutes, checking his phone obsessively, trying to convince himself just to call, but he doesn’t want to know if Derek isn’t going to answer, and after redundantly checking for missed calls one too many times he goes to find Derek, slams the door behind him.
It feels good for long enough to get him almost to the bar, onto the street, and then he drives around the block three times before he pulls over twenty metres away from the lot he can’t turn in to.
He’s still trying to work up his courage when Lydia spills out of the lot, moving rapidly down the street. She doesn’t notice Stiles until she’s coming up on him and then she carries on, walks right past.
“Hey!” Stiles says, tumbling out onto the pavement.
She stops because she has to, and when she turns around her face is blank and her voice is controlled. “Derek isn’t in yet.”
And she’s stepping away, so Stiles says, “That isn’t, I wasn’t, he’s avoiding me anyway, he doesn’t want to see me,” and she stops again, but she barely even looks curious, her eyes dulled and opaque.
“Is it weird for you?” he asks, the thought occurring for the first time. He jerks his head towards the bar. “Knowing he’s listening to you, even though you can just listen back. I can’t listen back.”
“He isn’t listening,” Lydia says. “He wouldn’t bother. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Get in the car,” Stiles says. “You’re going to get in the car.”
He’s surprised when she does; if anyone were going to obey him, he wouldn’t have expected it to be Lydia, but he’ll take it, and it seems she’ll take him over nobody. They’re better off not being alone, even better off together maybe, he thinks, though Lydia doesn’t look present enough to have an opinion.
Stiles doesn’t know where to go, because he wants to get Lydia away from Dutch but he also doesn’t think he can take running into Derek right now, so he can’t go home, and he has no idea where Derek goes when he isn’t home or at work, which is not helpful in picking somewhere he won’t be.
“Does Derek have a gym?” he asks Lydia, and she rolls her eyes at him, which, sadly, is an improvement.
He pulls over on a street he doesn’t recognise, sprawling houses set well back behind their fences.
Once the engine is off, the car is silent, and Stiles doesn’t quite know how to start, but he tries. “You’re going to come home,” he says. “That’s what Derek said you were going to do.”
*
Derek is gone when Stiles wakes up. Stiles tries to make breakfast himself; he burns it horribly but eats it anyway. He keeps checking his phone for messages from Derek in his lecture, but all he gets are increasingly weird texts from Danny. denial he returns, aren’t u supposed to try n convert the pretty ones? He ignores Danny’s response, all-caps and indecipherable even to Stiles, but eventually tells him stop making him do all the work. mean, because he feels the need to re-establish his good-friend credentials after last night.
He’s feeling pretty good about it until he gets, no longer friends. Whatever, who cares what Danny thinks, Jackson will thank him later.
There’s still nothing from Derek when Stiles gets out for lunch, and he doesn’t recall a single word he’s heard today, so he gives up the ghost and goes home.
Derek isn’t there, and Stiles hangs around for a few minutes, checking his phone obsessively, trying to convince himself just to call, but he doesn’t want to know if Derek isn’t going to answer, and after redundantly checking for missed calls one too many times he goes to find Derek, slams the door behind him.
It feels good for long enough to get him almost to the bar, onto the street, and then he drives around the block three times before he pulls over twenty metres away from the lot he can’t turn in to.
He’s still trying to work up his courage when Lydia spills out of the lot, moving rapidly down the street. She doesn’t notice Stiles until she’s coming up on him and then she carries on, walks right past.
“Hey!” Stiles says, tumbling out onto the pavement.
She stops because she has to, and when she turns around her face is blank and her voice is controlled. “Derek isn’t in yet.”
And she’s stepping away, so Stiles says, “That isn’t, I wasn’t, he’s avoiding me anyway, he doesn’t want to see me,” and she stops again, but she barely even looks curious, her eyes dulled and opaque.
“Is it weird for you?” he asks, the thought occurring for the first time. He jerks his head towards the bar. “Knowing he’s listening to you, even though you can just listen back. I can’t listen back.”
“He isn’t listening,” Lydia says. “He wouldn’t bother. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Get in the car,” Stiles says. “You’re going to get in the car.”
He’s surprised when she does; if anyone were going to obey him, he wouldn’t have expected it to be Lydia, but he’ll take it, and it seems she’ll take him over nobody. They’re better off not being alone, even better off together maybe, he thinks, though Lydia doesn’t look present enough to have an opinion.
Stiles doesn’t know where to go, because he wants to get Lydia away from Dutch but he also doesn’t think he can take running into Derek right now, so he can’t go home, and he has no idea where Derek goes when he isn’t home or at work, which is not helpful in picking somewhere he won’t be.
“Does Derek have a gym?” he asks Lydia, and she rolls her eyes at him, which, sadly, is an improvement.
He pulls over on a street he doesn’t recognise, sprawling houses set well back behind their fences.
Once the engine is off, the car is silent, and Stiles doesn’t quite know how to start, but he tries. “You’re going to come home,” he says. “That’s what Derek said you were going to do.”
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Date: 2012-02-06 12:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-06 01:06 am (UTC)