Chapter Text
He moved through the underworld, confident that he was safe, for the first time in so long it made his head spin. He had no idea of where he needed to go, or how he would go about finding Stiles, so instead, he walked. He let his thoughts slip away, let the worries of Stiles being trapped or hurt, slip away as well. Stiles was, after all, a god. So, Derek focused on the feeling of his feet against the cold ground and then walked until everything hurt.
"Where are you going?" a woman asked, but Derek didn't pause.
"I don't know," he answered, around a mouthful of sharp fangs that muffled his words.
"Do you believe that it will help you? Not knowing," she asked. He could suddenly hear the click and drag of a cane and old feet against the ground.
“Knowing didn’t help, maybe, not knowing will be what I need,” Derek answered. He glanced over at the woman next to him, a frail old body hunched forward, gripping onto her cane like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her clothing was soaking wet, and she as leaving temporary water stains in her wake. She hummed thoughtfully at his answer and then bobbed her head from side to side.
“It seems as reasonable as any other thought,” she answered. Derek wondered how she managed to keep pace with him. His large steps should have left her behind in seconds, but instead, she walked alongside him. He turned his attention back to the dirt road before him, where the straight path had been lost, and a forest bloomed into existence. The light of the world around them vanished between the shadows of the trees, but Derek continued forwards, and the woman followed.
“Do you know where he is?” Derek asked once they were swallowed by the forest. There was a strange familiarity to her, an aura that he recognised and was comforted by.
“Always,” she answered between the clicks of her cane on the unseen ground.
“Are you… Hekabe?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered. “And you are Derek Hale, the man blessed by the gods.”
“It seems that way.”
“It is that way,” she said, her voice cracking as she spoke and took on a softer tone. He glanced at her for another moment, decided that arguing would do no good, and turned back to his path.
“Is Gale around?”
“She’s at home,” Hekabe answered. “She will guide the next soul.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Guiding my soul?”
“Perhaps or perhaps, I am simply accompanying you,” she answered. The crack of old age slipped from her voice, and Derek heard her cane clatter to the ground. He watched as her body curled forward, like she was falling, and then shift into a large wolf. Her paws sent up plumes of dry earth from the forest floor. The shift in her body was strange to watch, less violent and more magic. Her bones didn’t seem to snap in and out of place. Instead, they moved like fluid as she changed.
“Did Stiles ask you to?” he asked, after a few moments.
“No,” she answered. “He is looking for you.”
“Will you guide me to him?”
“Is that what you desire?”
“More than anything else.”
“Then come, Derek Hale, follow me,” she said, and then she ran. For a second, Derek thought about it, how this could be a lie, she could be anyone, there was no proof. He had asked her name, he had asked about Gale, she had told him nothing. He didn’t know this place; this world was foreign, strange, and dangerous. He knew that. He really, really knew that, but still, he ran. He dropped his hulking form to all fours and tore through the trees behind Hekabe. She darted back and forth, moving under and around falling trees and thick thorned bushes. She moved with purpose and a vast knowledge of this place. Derek stumbled through it.
His fur caught on thrones, tearing chunks from his hide and leaving a trail of himself along his path. He slammed into and through logs, sending scatterings of splinters across the ground. He felt blood leaking down his legs, burrs caught and tugging at his fur, but still, he ran. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart in his ears and the rushing of air around his head. Hekabe’s footsteps were lost in the, now soft, leaf covered ground. Her breathing didn’t seem to exist, and even when he strained to hear it, there was no heartbeat to find. So, he tracked her with his eyes, following the dark shape until his limbs burned and he thought his lungs were going to give out. Then the trees parted suddenly, and she was standing upright and human, in front of him. Derek slid to a stop, stumbling back to his feet, panting for air before looking at her again.
She stood in front of him, dressed in loose black robes that twirled softly around her. Her long brown hair was partly pulled back and out of her face, tumbling down her back in soft curls. She turned her head to look at him and smiled sweetly. Beyond her was nothing, just the sheer drop of a cliff and, what seemed like, the night sky repeated over and over again forever. “Plans change,” she said softly, and the words echoed in his mind like a dream. He turned to look back at her, trying to focus on her face, but finding that he couldn’t. “No matter how well planned they are.”
“No one is to blame,” he answered.
“Chase him,” Hekabe said. Derek turned his attention to the sky beyond them, vast and dark, and missing the moon among the stars. He threw his head back, as he had once in a dream, howled to the sky, and then threw himself from the cliff into the darkness below. “Chase him,” he heard Hekabe say a second time, and then she was gone. Her voice lost on the wind, and his body twisting through the air as he plummeted. He let himself fall, relaxing strangely into the moment, where he was so ready to die and live all at once. Then, he pictured Stiles, just as he wanted him to be.
He pictured him, standing in front of him, hands tucked into the pockets of his red hoodie. He pictured an easy smile and stupid jokes. He pictured painted nails, henna designs, and rings that they would make together. He pictured a family, their daughter, their grandson, their future burning wildly in front of them. Then, he tore his claws through the air, leaving trails of silver blue magic steaking in the air around him. He felt his body hit the portal, like carefully slipping into a lake, and then he was colliding with the ground. Derek rolled onto his side, taking a moment to listen to the world around him before he pushed himself back to his feet. In front of him, looking almost nothing like he had pictured, wide-eyed and dirty was Stiles.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Stiles said, his voice catching as he did like he might start crying.
“Me too,” Derek answered, around his fangs.
“Well I’m glad you found you,” he said, smiling a little.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” Derek answered.
“Compared to when I was in purgatory, it probably felt like a long weekend.”
“Worst long weekend of my life.”
“Me too,” Stiles said. There was another moment of nothing, no movement from either of them, no words or sounds, and then it was broken. Stiles ran and jumped at Derek, letting the wolf catch him in his arms. Stiles threw his arms around Derek’s huge shoulders and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Derek could feel Stiles’ body wracked with sobs, convulsing against him. “This is all my fault, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.”
“No, it’s not,” Derek answered, letting his form slowly shift away. His body shrunk back down until Stiles' feet were hitting the ground, and they were almost the same height again. “If anything—” Stiles pulled back from Derek, just enough to look at his face, without letting go of him.
“If you blame yourself, Derek Hale, I’ll—”
“What?” Derek interrupted.
“I’ll… I’ll stay stuck to your side until we die,” Stiles answered.
“I hope so,” Derek said, and then he kissed Stiles. They crashed into each other like waves finding the beach and clung to each other like they were the only things holding other down. So, they kissed until they could breathe, and then they kissed until their lungs hurt, and then they kissed until it had been so long that both of them were sure it was becoming weird.
“I love you, Derek,” Stiles said earnestly when they finally pulled apart again. Their bodies still pressed together, as close as they could get. Derek could feel Stiles breath against his face, and he wanted to kiss him again, just because he could.
“I love you too, Stiles,” Derek mumbled, “I love you so much.” He pressed in close and kissed him again. Just for good measure.