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nightcall99 · 3 months

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Notes from 17.3.24

HS is gone again. I feel very tired. Outside of my regular routine, I think I'm agoraphobic or something.

Why are we both having dreams to do with bathrooms?

Here's some life ranting:

The 3D guilt things are coming back again. AL is going overseas soon and she casually let it slide that her 4 birds are going to be left at home by themselves for 2.5 weeks and that her mum wants her to ask another one of our co-workers, TC, to look after them. But I'm closer to her than he is, and instead of asking me directly, she dropped a hint like this to guilt me into offering to look after them. I said what she wanted me to say but my heart clearly wasn't in it. I don't want to. I just don't. Maybe I might have been open to it if she asked me more directly and given me more time to mentally prepare for it but not like this. Not 5 days before you leave. (And even then, I still don't want to). She said she'll just leave a mound of food for them and set up a camera and if they die, they die. And then I said, give me the keys to your house, I'll look in on them every few days. You'll have to tell me what to do though. And she changed the subject. Like wtf? Am I an animal abuser if I don't insist insistently on looking after them? I can't deal with this anymore. Why do I make up these scenarios.

To be honest I'm kind of relieved that she's going away for a bit. She can be very exhausting. I never know if we're actually friends or if it's a keep-your-friends-close-and-your-enemies-closer type situation. Sometimes in my life I think that if you peer in close enough, it's actually like that with everyone. Is that just the nature of human relationships? Are you supposed to feel a little hatred every now and then from someone, and you to them? I've always felt this my whole life. Everything is so low-vibe. I'm low vibe. I can't help it.

I don't know what I'm doing. The other day TC tried to convince me to give him my money for him to invest. I don't know much about money but I know used-car salesman tactics when I see them. He said, Think of me as a bank. You get interest from the bank every month don't you? I said, No, I never mix friendship with money. I don't think that he expected me to say that. Firstly, I said, do not talk to me about this crap at 9am in the morning. He IGNORED, and kept going even though I AGAIN SAID, STOP, ask me later when the caffeine has kicked in. And then he was like, I know you're paranoid Kath, so we'll sign a statutory declaration so you can rest assured I won't run away with your money. ????? We both know stat decs are not legally binding. After, he kept going on about bitcoin and tried that angle, saying like you and me and put in money blah blah this could happen. STFU. He has started undermining me in other ways lately, too many to count, and somehow I'm still nice to him. I tell myself I'm doing it to survive. That it doesn't matter anyway. The big boss came in and he was bootlicking like you wouldn't believe. Being amongst the energy of it make me sick. Somehow we thought that striking others down in order to get ahead was fun. I hate this game.

I don't know what I'm doing. There's an 18 year old shop girl who I think is flirting with me, and I think I'm flirting back. Am I that bored? Is this legal? My intern continues to fart all over the place. I spray lavender spray here and there but he doesn't get the hint. I took him aside briefly today to tell him his voice is too loud and everyone and their mum can hear his conversation regarding very sensitive matters with the patient, and he was picking his nose the whole time. I can't. Is this real? Still though, I am starting to feel really bad about not being more attentive to his academic progression. I honestly just ignore him most of the time, outside of being polite. Well, barely that.

Everyday, nothing changes. My perspective on the world is like night and day, depending on the energy. But still, nothing changes.

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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Secret's Out

Summary: Request! Reid and Y/N are secretly dating, but their business doesn't stay their business for long.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence

Word Count: 2974

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it :)

Sorry this took forever! It took me a while to think of case details that I liked and then I kept rewriting parts. I think I'm finally happy with it though!

Masterlist

"Spencer!" You pushed him away. "The doors could open at any moment! How are we supposed to keep this a secret if Morgan walks in on us kissing in the elevator?" You raised a brow at him.

"On average, elevators travel at a speed of 200 ft/min or about 4 seconds per floor. Being on the fifth floor means we have about 20 seconds to ourselves." He smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, until someone surprises us on floor 3." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the doors once they opened.

"I can't help it. I'm just... really happy with you." He whispered softly.

"I'm really happy too." You smiled at him. You were about to lean in when the elevator doors opened once again to reveal JJ and Emily.

"Hey guys, ready for another case?" Emily glanced between you suspiciously, but thankfully didn't ask any prying questions.

"Yep, let's go!" You turned quickly, walking into the round table room without so much as a glance back at the three agents by the elevator.

"What's with her?" JJ questioned.

"Said she didn't sleep well last night. Must be all the caffeine." He held his own cup off coffee up in solidarity before also walking to the round table room.

"Alright, we've got 3 dead in Billings, Montana. All three were law enforcement, and all three were found this morning around the city." You listened as Penelope introduced the details of the case.

"Could be someone who feels the police didn't do a good enough job protecting a loved one?" You threw out a theory.

"Or someone who feels wronged by the criminal justice system as a whole." Rossi added on.

"Either way, they likely won't stop until we catch them. Wheels up in 20." Hotch rose from his seat as he spoke, wasting no time in preparing for take off.

You all dispersed briefly to grab your go bags, meeting back at the SUVs to head to the jet.

Once boarded, it didn't take long for the conversation to start up again.

"When we land, L/N go to the morgue. Dave, Prentiss take the first and second crime scenes, they're only a mile apart. Morgan and Reid, check out the third scene. I'll head to the precinct with JJ."

With Hotch's instructions set, you took what little time you had left on the flight to go over the causes of death.

"Anything stand out to you on the bodies?" You asked the ME after going over the blunt force trauma and bullet wounds.

"There's tape residue and bruising on the wrists and ankles. Based on the state of bruising, they were likely held for about 3 days before they were killed."

"Thank you for your help." You shook hands, pulling out your phone to call Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, they were held for days before they were killed. How did nobody notice they were missing?" There was nothing in the reports that indicated the victims were reported missing prior to being found.

"We just found the same pattern. They all used vacation days for various reasons in the days leading up to their deaths. Meet us back at the precinct and Reid can explain the whole pattern."

"Okay, I'm leaving now." You hung up just as you reached the SUV. Throughout the drive, you couldn't stop thinking that something wasn't adding up.

The victims were taken in the same day. It didn't make sense for the unsub not to escalate. So, why aren't any officers unaccounted for?

Suddenly, a truck crashed into your SUV, sending you flying off the road. A figure dressed in black opened the door and dragged you from the car.

"Agent L/N, it's so good to see you again." A male voice spoke, but you couldn't place it.

He hit you over the head with a handgun before dragging you to his own vehicle.

"Where's L/N?" Emily questioned when her and Rossi returned from the second dumpsite.

"On her way back from the ME." Hotch answered. "Did you find anything useful?"

"They truly are dumpsites. Both bodies were found by dumpsters, sending a pretty clear message." Dave replied.

"Same for the third site." Derek added on.

"All three victims were single and took time off leading up to their death. Nobody would've notice that they were missing until it was too late." Reid supplied the final bit of information gathered.

Hotch's phone rang before anyone else could comment. The frantic sound of Garcia's nails clicking against her keyboard echoed through the phone. She was talking before anyone could greet her.

"You need to see this, check your tablets."

Confused glances were exchanged as everyone, barring Reid, opened their tablets. Reid glanced over Morgan's shoulder to observe as well.

A seemingly live video that Garcia received a link to was streaming to the tablets.

A single woman sitting in a chair could be seen in the frame. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with thick, gray tape and a bag was over her head.

"Garcia, what is this?" Hotch asked almost immediately.

"I was emailed the link just now. It's not streaming anywhere else online." Her reply came quickly, the sound of typing still filling in the silence.

"Can you trace it?" Rossi questioned.

"I'm trying, but it's being routed through multiple proxy servers."

"Did the email say anything?" Emily chimed in.

"No, it was just the link- Wait. I just got another email." She paused as the new email loaded. "It's addressed to Reid."

Every set of eyes in the room turned to Reid.

"What does it say?" He felt the nerves beginning to grow waiting for Garcia to read the words aloud.

"Dr. Reid,

I hope you remember me. What am I saying, of course you do. I've got something of yours that you might want back. You see Dr. Reid, you and your team ruined me. My family, my career, all of it, just gone. I thought I'd return the favor. A person's phone can be so informative. Tell me, does your team know about your girlfriend? I've so enjoyed getting reacquainted with her.

Happy hunting."

Spencer's face went white as he looked at Morgan's tablet again. His thoughts were racing. How did he not recognize you before? Even with the bag over your head, he should've known it was you.

"It's her." His words were barely a whisper.

"This is your girlfriend?" Morgan gestured to the screen again. Spencer could only nod in reply, his mind unable to focus on anything except you.

"Reid, listen to me. You've got to tell us everything you know about her. We'll have to split up. You can go back to Quantico with Emily and Morgan, the rest of us will stay here to work on our current case." Hotch was already devising a strategy to work both cases.

"There's no need." His words made sense to him, but sounded cryptic to the rest of the team.

"Kid, of course there is. We'll help you get her back." Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively shocking him back to the present situation.

"There's no need to split up because she's here. She's in Montana." Before he could continue, everyone was asking questions.

"Give me a phone number and I'll get you a location." Garcia was already typing away again.

"Are you sure she's here?" JJ's brows furrowed. She did her best to hide the hurt of her best friend hiding his girlfriend from her, again.

"Why would she be here?" Rossi added.

"How did she get here? Maybe we can track the transportation and figure out means of abduction." Emily was the only one thinking about the case.

Like ripping off a bandaid, Spencer blurted out the truth.

"It's Y/N."

He was met with silence in the room as everyone absorbed the information.

Garcia caught up first, a sudden gasp sounding through the phone.

"So, then that's Y/N... in the video..." Her voice wavered.

As if a switch was flipped, the team was back on the case.

"Garcia, get me a list of anyone who would have a grievance with the team." Hotch ordered.

"Go through anyone who was falsely accused. Start with cases in or around Montana. He would want to keep this close to home." Rossi specified.

"We've only had one case in Montana since Y/N joined the team." Reid supplied the knowledge as it came to him. "A name, I need a name." He muttered to himself, pulling his hair as he roughly ran his hands through it and over his face. "Garcia, look into Jameson Braddock."

"Got it." She immediately began a background check, searching through case files and news articles for additional information. "i'll get back to you with locations." With that, she hung up.

"Fill us in, kid. Who is Jameson Braddock." Morgan lead Reid to a chair, gently easing him into it.

"Our last case in Montana, Emily and I went to interview a witness." Emily nodded, the memories slowly coming back to her.

"He wasn't very forthcoming, and then he tried to run." She added on.

"Exactly, except he didn't make it very fair. We arrested him, but it turned out he was only guilty of selling alcohol to minors. When word of his arrest got out, the whole town thought it was for the serial rapes and murders we were investigating even though it was never confirmed."

"By the time we corrected the media, it was too late." JJ supplied, also remembering the man.

"So, he killed three officers just to draw us out back out here?" Morgan refocused the conversation on the current case.

"It looks that way now. The media knew we were coming, so he must have as well." Emily theororized. "If he followed us from the airport, he would've seen Y/N leave by herself."

"He likely didn't know about your relationship until he abducted her and went through her phone." Hotch paced the room.

"He's flaunting his power over us." Rossi chimed in just as Hotch's phone rang again.

"Garcia, what've you got?"

"Three addresses in Billings, Montana. Jameson Braddock has been on a downward spiral since your last trip there. His entire life fell apart, like he said. Divorced, his wife moved to Nebraska with their two kids. He lost his job at the high school, and was evicted from his house when he could no longer pay the bills." She listed the information quickly.

"He has ties to three addresses. Nobody has moved into his previous house, so it's vacant. He's got a small apartment in the northern part of the city which he pays for through working odd hours at Taco Bell. Finally, he briefly worked security at a now abandoned warehouse."

"An apartment wouldn't be enough space to hold her without the chance of someone hearing. She's not there." Rossi eliminated the location as an option.

"We'll split up to cover the warehouse and the house-" Hotch began, but Reid cut him off.

"No, we shouldn't split up. She's got to be at the house. The warehouse has no connection to his previous life. He wants revenge for our perceived wrongdoing, he wouldn't make his last stand at a new location." Reid was already putting on a bullet proof vest. Despite how his mind was racing, he refused to show how afraid he was.

"You're sure?" Morgan asked, on the fence about committing to one location.

"Absolutely." With that, Reid was out the door heading for the SUVs.

"Rossi, Emily head around back. I'll take the front with Reid. JJ and Morgan, the side door." Hotch instructed the team to split up upon arrival at the house.

Reid wasted no time in approaching the house. He was confident you were inside, but he didn't know what was happening to you.

The main floor was cleared quickly. Again, the team split up to cover the upper level and the basement.

Knowing you were likely downstairs, Reid immediately started that direction, JJ and Hotch following him.

It wasn't hard for him to find you. You were still tied to the chair in the middle of the room, bag over your head.

Before anyone could stop him, Reid lowered his gun and ran to you. He gently maneuvered the bag off your head, stopping his movements only when he felt something press into his back.

"Dr. Reid. So kind of you to join us." Braddock spoke maniacally, pressing the gun against Reid's head.

"Drop your weapon." Hotch commanded, but the man only cackled in response.

'Y/N... Y/N." Reid gently shook you in an attempt to wake you up.

"She can't hear you." Braddock singsonged.

"What did you do?" Reid tried to turn to him only to feel the gun press further into his head.

"Like I said in my email, you people ruined my life. They took everything from me, so I thought I'd try to return the favor." During his short speech, Braddock shifted just enough for JJ to get a clean shot.

He fell to the ground, gun clattering across the floor.

Reid moved quickly to remove the tape binding you to the chair while Hotch called for a medic in the basement.

The entire team watched as you were wheeled into the ambulance, still unconscious, none more scared than Spencer.

"She's going to be fine, Spence." JJ tried to reassure him, nonetheless his pacing continued.

"You don't know that. We don't even know what he did to her." He had one hand anxiously running through his hair, the other pinching the bridge of his nose in distress.

Just then, a doctor emerged from behind closed doors.

"F/N L/N." She called into the waiting room, slightly taken aback when the group of agents rushed to her.

"It was touch and go for a while, but she got here just in time." It was visible to even the least qualified profiler how relieved the team felt. Their previously tense shoulders relaxed, frowns turned to small smiles, wide eyes and raised brows pinched together with joy.

"What happened?" Emily posed the question everyone was thinking.

"In short, she was drugged. It's not clear what exactly was used, but it was likely a mix of drugs that attempted to stop her heart."

"Can we see her?" Morgan spoke next, cautiously eyeing Reid.

"You may, follow me." The doctor lead them through a series of hallways to your room. "She should be waking up soon."

With that the doctor left, allowing the team to file into the room. You looked strangely peaceful for someone who almost died.

"So..." JJ glanced between you and Spencer. "Girlfriend, huh?"

His eyes went wide. Instinctively, he turned to you for help, but you were still asleep. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out.

"Relax, kid." Morgan grinned. "We're happy as long as you two are happy."

Spencer smiled gratefully, looking at you with an adoring gaze. "We are happy."

"How long?' Emily gestured to your joined hands. Just before Spencer could answer, you groaned.

"I want to hear your guesses first." Your voice was raspy, but there was a clear smile on your face. "Also, what happened?"

The quickly explained the email Garcia received and the events that followed.

"Now that that's cleared up, do tell us how long you think we've been together. I know you've got a bet going." You narrowed your eyes, playfully glaring at each team member.

"4 months." Hotch begrudgingly admitted. JJ followed with 3 months, Derek and Rossi both betting 10 weeks, and Emily going with 6 weeks.

"Ha, you're all wrong." You smiled triumphantly, leaning closer to Spencer.

"Wait, we haven't heard from Garcia." Derek smirked as he rung her on speaker phone.

"Oh, my beautiful crime fighters. Y/N, are you okay?" Your smile widened at the concern in her voice.

"I am indeed, but I have a very important question for you." You glanced as Spencer briefly before continuing. "How long do you think Spence and I have been together?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Her excitement caught everyone but you off guard. "7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days."

Spencer's jaw dropped as he stuttered out, "that's exactly right..."

"How'd you figure it out?" The group of profilers wore matching expressions of surprise as Penelope explained.

"Well, we had just finished testifying in the Bigelow trial. The whole team went out for drinks, and I could just see it in Y/N's eyes the next day that something wonderful happened. At first I just thought that she got some, but then I saw her and the good doctor in the kitchen getting coffee and I knew." Penelope's voice held a mixture of smugness and pure excitement.

"Babygirl, you didn't tell me?" Derek sounded genuinely offended.

"Y/N asked me not to." Even though you couldn't see her, you knew she punctuated the statement with a shrug.

"You knew, she knew?" Spencer turned to you in shock.

You nodded. "I could see it on her face the second I walked out of the kitchen. But she promised not to tell, so I didn't either."

"The two of you, thick as thieves." Rossi lamented.

"I love you so much." Spencer whispered into your ear as he pulled you in for a hug.

"I love you too." You whispered right back.

"Honestly, I'm glad the secret's out." You smiled at Spencer before looking at the rest of the team. "Although, I wish I didn't have to be kidnapped to tell you."

You spent a few more hours in the hospital before being cleared to go back to the hotel.

The next morning, you smiled to yourself as you were finally able to cuddle with Spencer during the flight home.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

#spencer reid x reaader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds fic

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mental-health-advice · 6 years

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(james 1/2) so I don't have a diagnosis but I'm 17 and for 3yrs I've had symptoms of OCD (and for a little while when I was 7 or something) and it's getting worse and I have no access to meds or a therapist. my main issue is with germs, and recently I've been thinking about how distressing it's going to be to date in the future cause already I can hardly handle sharing space with my family or having them touch my stuff, and it's just going to get worse. I don't want to be constantly obsessing

(james 2/2) over what my partner touches or asking them to wash their hands every 10 minutes or being afraid to do what puts my mind at ease in case they judge me for it, and I don't even want to think about how stressful sex would be. and I feel like relationships are such a trivial thing to be worried about rn but knowing that I'll never be able to just have a normal dating life has been really bugging me and I'm not really sure what to do

Hi James,

Thank you for getting in touch with us here at MHA! I am really sorry that you are struggling with these symptoms and worries at the minute, that must be really hard for you. I hope I’ll be able to give you a little bit of advice and reassurance to make things a little easier for you.

I really do think that reaching out to a professional would be the best option for you right now; it is important to ensure that you receive a correct diagnosis and any possible causes are eliminated. However, I do recognise that sometimes it isn’t so easy to get that professional help, so I’m going to share with you some self help ideas and resources that I think could be of some use to you.

Firstly, I am linking you to our page about OCD here! We have some really great informative pages which may help with your own understanding of what you are going through. Also the following webpages might be helpful for you to read:

NHS

OCD-UK

Intrusive Thoughts.Org

Speaking of techniques, there are a couple of things that I want to suggest that you may find helpful. I know for many people, challenging the intrusive thoughts OCD can cause cause can be really effective. Basically, whenever one of the intrusive thoughts speaks to you, reply to it, really sarcastically like you would if someone said something really silly. For example, you could reply by saying ‘woooow, what a great idea that is!’ in the most sarcastic tone you can muster. Hopefully this will help you to start giving the thoughts less value and you will find they begin to effect you less. Grounding techniques might also be something you could try? Grounding techniques help to bring your focus away from any intrusive thought, bring it back to your consciousness and back to reality. We have a page of them here! I suggest to begin with you try something like saying the alphabet forwards and then backwards slowly, or running your hands under really icy cold water.

Something quite important when dealing with OCD is to not give your thoughts too much power - so, stop, acknowledge them, jot it down briefly, then try to think of it as put away in the writing. Hopefully this will make it a little easier for you to move on from the thoughts. You could also try giving yourself a certain time frame within the day to think about and process the thoughts - so you can say that between 18:30-19:00 I will think about the thoughts I have been having. This way you avoid ruminating about them for long periods of time and hopefully this means they will have less power over you.

Here are some other tips and pages that you might find useful for self-help:

Mindfulness

Distractions

This 4 step programme

Avoid caffeine as it can make negative thinking/feelings worse

Suppression

I cannot personally give you any advice about how to manage OCD in a relationship and when being intimate, however, I am so sure that there are people out there who can. Have you considered maybe reaching out to an OCD help group online (or in person if you are able!) and asking if anyone has any advice for you? I completely understand why you are worried and those worries are very valid - please try to remember that love is a super powerful thing, and when you meet someone who falls in love with you, your OCD and the things you need from them in regards to that, will not be a negative thing to them - it will be something that they want to help and support you with, not judge you for. Relationships are about communication and compromise and I’m so sure that you will find someone who is willing to do both of those things with you and who you will be super happy with!

I hope this was of some use, love. Please feel free to send us in another ask if there is anything else that we can do for you! Please take care,

Rhiann xo

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pale-silver-comb · 7 years

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Hi. I love your blog and all the little headcannons (canon?) you do. I also noticed you're amazing for writing little stories for people who are having a tough time. Would it be too much to ask if I could have one? I'm suffering from a bout of depression/insomnia and I'm running on about 4 hours sleep in about 3 days. What do you think of Derek or Stiles getting insomnia from all the stuff they've seen and the other just cuddling them through it? Trying to stay awake so they're not alone?

Hey, sweetheart. The depression/insomnia combo is horrible. I don’t know if it will work for you but earlier this year I stumbled upon ASMR videos. I know some people find them weird but they really helped me when it came to getting to sleep. In the mean time, I hope this little fic does something to help.

Stiles thought being able to sleep after the Nogitsune had been the universe’s way of balancing out the good and bad in his life: get possessed by a psychotic Japanese fox but sleep like a baby every night after. As it turned out, being able to sleep after a spirit uses your body to murder a bunch of people came down to the fact Stiles hadn’t had a break since finding Laura Hale’s body that night in the woods.

He believed joining the academy would be a fresh start, and in many ways it was. He just didn’t count on the fact that now he didn’t have pure evil trying to kill him at every waking moment that his brain would finally find time to process it. Stiles had always been a fan of ignoring his problems until they eventually, just, go away; watching his friends die, looking down at his own body and knowing it wasn’t really his but the cardboard cutout left behind by the Nogitsune, the memory of watching Derek almost -

He assumed - stupidly - that he had been successful in that particular endeavour. As long as he had his pillow, he was fine. You’re going to be fine. That was what the faceless people of the internet said. Stiles didn’t think “fine” was ever going to be an option for him but he guessed hope was a nice sentiment.

“Insomnia,” Scott said, repeating the word back to him. Stiles could practically hear the concern, loud and clear, ringing through the phone. It instantly made him feel worse. Heaving a sigh, he scrubbed a tired hand down his face. Maybe he shouldn’t have called.

“Yes, insomnia.”

Scott was quiet for several seconds. “Do you have your pillow?” he asked.

“Yes,” Stiles answered. He was currently clutching it to his chest, sprawled out on his bedroom floor. It was 3am, the floor was hard, and if he didn’t get some sleep soon he was going to start crying; the kind of crying he hadn’t done since he was a kid and his mom took ill.

“What about drugs?” Scott suggested. “I could ask my mom-”

“No drugs, Scott.”

“But-”

“I said no drugs, Scott.”

The line went quiet again and Stiles felt his eyes begin to sting. This was a mistake.

“Sorry, man, I have to go.”

He hung up before Scott could respond, deciding he could feel guilty about it later.

At the academy, he was on auto-pilot. Luckily, Stiles had come up with some of his best plans during the last four years on little-to-no sleep, so it wasn’t overly obvious to his fellow agents-in-training that he needed several cups on coffee just to get through the day.

It was obvious to someone though. Someone who clearly thought it was their sworn duty to haul Stiles over their shoulder in the middle of his third run to the coffee shop that day and deposit him in the back of their car.

Stiles wanted to protest - he should protest, call for help, maybe? - but he had had his eyes closed when the stranger grabbed him, had been drooling on a statue, leaning against it for moral support, as he had waited for his order.

Plus, the stranger’s arms felt nice.

In the back of his mind, Stiles couldn’t decide if thinking a stranger’s arms felt nice during a potential kidnapping - fuck, please don’t let it be a supernatural kidnapping - was because of his sleep deprived state or if that was just the way he was wired now.

It was only when a door opened and a familiar pair of eyebrows slid into the driver’s seat did Stiles begin to laugh. Hysterically.

“Of course,” he said, shaking his head and pressing his lips against the cool leather interior. Familiar hands strapped him into the his seat. “Of course it’s you, big guy.”

Derek just gave a slight huff and muttered something Stiles couldn’t hear, but it sounded an awful lot like, yeah, I missed you, too.

Stiles laughed again. It was crazy, what your mind came up with when it wasn’t functioning properly.

Stiles didn’t sleep on the way to….wherever Derek was driving them, but he also wasn’t present enough to argue when Derek lifted him out of the car and carried him up several flights of stairs.

“Hey, dude,” Stiles slurred, suddenly very, very comfortable. He wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and nuzzled into the power of The Scruff. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he had thought about nuzzling Derek’s beard more than once. “Where have you been?” He yawned, nuzzled in further. “Also, you’re a fucking built teady bear, did you know that?”

Derek stopped at a door - hopefully is own - and manoeuvred Stiles until he took the hint and wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist. It wasn’t as good a position but Stiles would take it, shooting finger guns behind Derek’s back as he heard the sound of keys jingling. It was definitely his apartment then. What a good sourwolf.

“Were you getting better?” he asked, when Derek didn’t answer. He yawned again and tried to muffle the sound against Derek’s neck. “Man, I hope you were. Hope you got a bunch of nice friends and a barbecue. I always thought you’d look good with a barbecue. I’m going to be in law enforcement. How crazy is that? I’m finally going to get a gun.”

Derek snorted but it was the kind of sort that could also be construed as fond. Stiles didn’t know why, but it made something in his stomach ache, just a little.

Man, he was tired.

“I got better, Stiles,” Derek whispered, carrying him inside…..somewhere that was much nicer than Derek’s old loft and definitely nicer than that train depot. Stiles shuddered at the memory of it. He could only make out a couch and a rug so far, his eyes felt so heavy, but it was a bright couch and rug: blue and orange, respectively. Stiles grinned. Derek was a secret Mets fan, he knew it.

Derek snorted again and muttered something about Stiles having poor taste in baseball.

Stiles was about to say something, because excuse you, but Derek beat him to it.

“Shhh,” he said, entering another room. A bedroom. It was huge with a massive window. In the corner was the biggest book case Stiles had ever seen. “It’s okay. I’ve got you this time. I’ve got you.”

Stiles let the words wash over him like a balm. He didn’t even know he needed those words but apparently he did. Apparently he needed them a lot. He kind of wanted to cry and again, he didn’t know why.

Stupid Derek Hale, making him feel things. Always making him feel things.

“That sounds nice,” he said instead, eyes permanently glued shut now. They were never going to open again. It was decided. This was his final resting place. In Derek Hale’s bed. “Please don’t leave this time.”

What a way to go.

When he woke, it was 3am again. Stiles’ first, miserable thought was, it’s always going to be like this, but then he stared a little closer at the alarm clock.

First of all, it was an actual clock, not just his phone. Secondly, there was a picture of Cora next to it. The last time he checked, he did not have a picture of Cora on his night stand. For another scary moment, he thought he might have amnesia but he quickly ruled it out. Not that he didn’t like Cora but she was definitely not the Hale he’d choose to have a picture of next to his bed.

“I called the academy,” Derek said, making Stiles jump. He was standing in his bedroom doorway, carrying a mug and what looked like….a historical novel. Stiles bit his lip hard, more than a little amused by the cover: two guys, locked in an embrace, wearing togas. “I told them you had a fever and were pretty out of it. Said you’d be back Monday.”

Stiles frowned, tearing his eyes away from the book. He’d tease Derek about it later. “What day is it today?”

“Friday.”

Derek stepped hesitantly into the room and handed Stiles the mug. It was filled to the brim with milk. Strawberry milk. Stiles smiled, feeling a little shy, and took it, wondered if Derek Hale was the type that drank strawberry milk now or if he just spent the last hour in some supermarket debating whether or not to add it to his basket.

Stiles kind of hoped it was the second one. Derek Hale in a supermarket; now there was an image.

“So,” he grinned, not entirely certain if this was about to slide on down to awkward territory or not. Derek was back. He was in DC. The last Stiles heard, he was in France. “I half passed out in some coffee shop and you just happened to be passing by? I always knew you were a creeper Derek, but really?”

Derek raised an eyebrow - ah, there we go - and Stiles dropped his grin, looked down instead. He was wearing a jumper over the t-shirt he had been wearing yesterday. It was soft and smelled strongly of coffee. Inhaling, Stiles briefly wondered if it was possible to breathe in the caffeine. He’d never been a coffee drinker - milkshakes all the way - and if he had to stare down one more cup just to stay awake, he didn’t know what he was going to do.

“Actually, you passed out in the coffee shop where I work,” Derek said, causing Stiles to look up so fast he practically fell out of the bed. The picture of Cora went flying and what once was very delicious strawberry milk, he was sure, was now a giant pink stain on Derek’s bed.

“Um,” he said, trying to look more sad about Derek’s sheets rather than the loss of his milk. He had no doubt he failed. “Oops?”

Derek’s other eyebrow rose to meet his first, before he ducked his head and smiled. Stiles had the strongest, stupidest urge to say, please never stop doing that for as long as you live.

“Is it that unlikely for me to be working in a coffee shop?” Derek asked, looking up again. Stiles couldn’t read his face but somehow he knew he wasn’t waiting for a punch line.

“Derek Hale: barista.” Stiles tried it out on his tongue. “I like it. Do you threaten people with your teeth when they’re rude to you?” He waggled his eyebrows and winked, lying back down more fully on the bed. “Wait. Do you help bake the pastries?” Shifting to the other side of the bed, he buried his nose in what he assumed was Derek’s pillow and shamelessly breathed in. Whatever, he could blame it on his lack of sleep later.

Derek laughed, light and lovely, and Stiles was a little more than instantly smitten. Then again, he’d always been just a little instantly smitten with Derek, hadn’t he? Even when he used to fantasise about punching him in the face.

“No,” Derek said, “but I do spit in their drinks.”

“Classy.” Stiles nodded slowly and tried to remember the last time he saw Derek look like this: happy, like his whole life hadn’t fallen apart when he was sixteen. It was sad that the answer to that was never. Even through all the fucked up weirdness during the past four years, Stiles at least had had snatched moments of normality.

He wondered if Derek had gotten to see the new Spiderman movie yet.

“Hey, Sourwolf?” he asked. “What are you doing until Monday?”

Stiles still didn’t sleep.

He didn’t think it would be as easy as having someone to sleep next to, having someone to hold and be held by. But it was easier. When he felt like screaming, Derek was right there. He listened to him, listened to every thought that entered his head and poured out of his mouth - the good, the bad and the ugly.

Derek opened up the coffee shop for him sometimes and made him hot chocolate and talked more than Stiles had ever heard him talk; he told him about his year travelling around the world and the three months he stayed with Cora. He talked about his family. He told him how Isaac was getting on and that having this job was the first time he felt good about himself. He talked for an hour, one night, about the youth group sessions his colleague ran for troubled kids and how he sometimes went along, fully shifted, and let the kids pet him.

“I knew you secretly liked belly rubs,” Stiles accused him, spraying his buttered scone everywhere. Derek grimaced. “I had a dream about that once, the night you left.” He felt his cheeks flush and watched as Derek blinked and did the same, before reaching out and lacing his fingers through Stiles’.

It was the first time Derek had ever held his hand and Stiles had to admit, it was a pretty damn good feeling.

“Sometimes I dream of you, too,” Derek said, biting his lip. “I dream of you a lot, actually.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re usually talking me ear off about something.”

Stiles laughed. “Hey! How do you know that wasn’t really me? I could have been trying to reach out to you, dude!”

The air went tense - Stiles had already told Derek about the dread doctors - and they stared at each other.

“I suppose,” Derek said, shrugging, “but….”

“But?”

Derek took a deep breath and averted his gaze. “But in my dreams you were always….you always returned my….” He frowned and stood up, going to make himself another piece of toast. Stiles had learned that Derek was a bit of a toast fiend, especially when there was chocolate spread on the go. He no longer had that ridiculous six pack, either, Stiles had noted fondly. Not that he still didn’t look like a Greek God.

“I always returned your what?” He was almost afraid to ask, in case it wasn’t what he thought, in case it was what he thought. “You know, Derek, we’ve always had a pretty solid relationship based on mutual exchange. You save me, I save you. I’m cool with, you know, carrying on that….tradition.”

Derek’s eyes lifted to meet his, toast half smothered in something that smelled like chocolate and hazelnut. It’s going to get cold, Stiles thought distractedly, staring at it. Getting up and walking over to him, Stiles leaned across the counter that Derek was standing behind - he looked like an adorable little kid, like he was hiding, hunched over. He took a bite of the toast.

Derek zeroed in on the chocolate spread now sticking to Stiles’ chin and blinked, like he was realising something.

“You know I’m not ready for something…..like that, right?” he asked, looking away. His hands were shaking a little.

“Well, neither am I,” Stiles said, climbing on top of the counter, until he could put both hands on Derek’s shoulder. “All I’m asking is for someone to make me hot chocolate when I can’t sleep and for that person to sign a contract saying a full night of spooning is not an unreasonable demand.” He took in Derek’s tired eyes, the nervous slope of his mouth, and wondered how much better Derek had really gotten. How far away he really managed to get from it all.

“I’d do the same for them,” he continued. “I mean, I don’t have a fancy ass coffee shop or anything, but I always keep ice cream in the freezer. Plus, I have all the Harry Potter movies on DVD and a kick ass Star Wars blanket.”

Derek slowly looked up, smiled at him. The tips of his ears were pink. “And how do you feel about versatile spooning rights?” He coughed. “Is that in the contract?”

Stiles pretended to think about that, even though it was a lost cause. He knew Derek would hear the way his heart was thumping treacherously away at the prospect. “Okay but I get to be the big spoon, like, at least seventy percent of the time. I like being held okay? I do but holding you -” Stiles froze, eyes widening. “Uh, I mean….holding someone. Holding someone has always appealed to me more.”

Derek narrowed his eyes and held up the toast for Stiles to take another bite. Stiles wasn’t sure if feeding him was a werewolf thing or a Derek thing, but Stiles found he liked it. It had been happening a lot lately.

“Does that mean I’m going to have to suffer you talking in my ear seventy percent of the time? Because if you are, I’m going to have to invest in a pair of ear muffs.”

Stiles smacked him across the shoulder and Derek grinned.

“Just kidding,” he said.

Sudden drowsiness swept over Stiles then - he was never going to catch up on all his lost sleep - and he rested his forehead against Derek’s. It felt nice, really nice, and a terrifying thought came into his head. Terrifying because it didn’t even scare him that much: I could do this forever.

“Let’s go home?” Derek asked, cautiously.

It took them both a minute to realise what he had said.

Stiles grinned, offering Derek the last bite of toast. “Yeah, Mr Barista Man, home sounds like a good place to start.”

#sterek #eternalsterek #possibly a current canon fix it #insomnia #getting together #derek hale gets nice things #ultimate-drama-queen #em writes fic #this is my first fic in 6 months #eerp #be gentle?

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