Determined

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.We’ll go from square one if we have to but Jesus Christ once was enough-for all of us, and if we can’t get your own memories back—it’s gonna—it’s gonna be a long fucking road.He hears the dull thud as Stiles goes to his knees behind him and tries to ignore the feeling of despair that jolts through him at the sound.“Please, Derek, please let me try another way to be useful.Please,” Stiles beseeches, voice barely a whisper.By the sound of it, he seems sure he’s speaking out of place.It says volumes about how distraught he is that he’ll ask for anything, even a chance to serve.“I can be more useful; I promise.I can do better.I can make it up to you that I can’t get the memories.Please, Derek, let me make it up to you.Please let me try.I’ll do anything you’ll let me, Derek.Please.”Derek hates himself for the dejection he can’t mask as he turns back to Stiles because Stiles whines at the sight.“I’m sorry, Derek.So sorry.I’m trying to find the memories but I—”“It’s okay,” Derek promises, kneeling in front of Stiles.Stiles curls in on himself even more as Derek comes closer.The tears streaming down Stiles’ face are splashing onto the hardwood floor with a plop, and it seems a deafening sound to Derek.He wants to lay comforting hands on Stiles’ shoulders, but he knows Stiles would shudder at the touch.“I know you’re trying,” Derek says.“I know it’s confusing for you.It’s okay.It doesn’t make you a burden.You’re never a burden, Stiles.You’re a good beta, a very good beta.”“Thank you, Derek,” he chokes outAnd even though he hates himself for playing into the idea that Stiles has to earn his place, he knows what this conditioned Stiles wants—what he needs by the look of it—and the verbal explanations and memories haven’t been enough to settle Stiles’ anxiety.Derek can’t bear to keep watching it build, adding to Derek’s distress which in turn adds back to Stiles’ anguish—a vicious cycle he doesn’t know how else to break.“There is something you can do,” Derek says finally.“Anything, Derek.Anything please.”“Can you—” Derek fights back the queasy feeling at using Stiles’ moment of weakness like this.It’s what he needs.It’s not taking advantage.It’s what he wants.It’s what will calm him down and lessen the fear.“There are ingredients for pasta in the pantry,” he starts again.“Can you make dinner?”“Yes, Derek! Yes, I can make dinner,” he answers, relief and hope flooding into his face so completely that Derek’s already broken heart is shattering.“Thank you, Derek!”He rises quickly and scurries to the pantry clearly elated to have a task.Derek rises as well, simultaneously berating himself both for giving into this and for not giving in sooner.He notices Stiles hesitation as he stands looking at the pantry shelves.“Do you have a question, Stiles?” he prompts.“I’m sorry, Derek.I—there’s more than one kind of pasta here.I don’t—I don’t know which you prefer.I can’t remember; I’m sorry, Derek.”Stiles still seems to think Derek wants him to have memories back for the sake of utility, keeps apologizing that he hasn’t memorized Derek’s likes and dislikes and can’t predict his every whim.“It’s okay, Stiles.Just—make—make ziti,” he requests, knowing Stiles’ favorite.“You know how to make that?”“Yes, Derek.I can make it.Thank you, Derek.”“Thank you, Stiles.I appreciate it.”“I’m glad to, Derek.Anything.”Derek runs a weary hand down his face as he walks to the den to join Isaac on the sofa.Isaac threads their fingers together and forces a smile.“I didn’t know what else to do,” Derek admits quietly.“You did the right thing, Derek,” Isaac assures.“It’ll calm him down.”But it won’t bring him back.How do we get him back?*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************“You did a great job with dinner,” Isaac tells Stiles again as they finish washing up and head back to the den.“Thank you,” Stiles replies quietly.“Hey, what’s wrong?”You were happy at dinner.You were smiling and everything when Derek told you how good it was.You even kept your head up a while.What happened?“He’s unhappy.It keeps getting worse—even after I was useful and made dinner he wasn’t any happier.”His eyes glance over to the back door Derek left through just a few moments ago, headed for a run to clear his head and try to get his emotions in check.“I know, but it’s not your fault, Stiles.He’s okay.”“Our Alpha’s unhappy,” Stiles says again like maybe Isaac didn’t hear him properly.“He’s angry and sad and disappointed and, and so unhappy.We have to—we have to fix it before—” He stops himself before he finishes the sentence.“We have to fix it,” he repeats instead.“He’s not going to start punishing us.”“He’s not going to have a choice! Good betas keep their alphas happy; bad betas don’t, and bad betas must be punished.We have to fix it.”We have to fix it all right, Isaac thinks sadly as he tries not to lose his composure.Just not what you think needs fixing.“I don’t remember enough to know what to do,” Stiles continues.“I’m not sure if he’d rather—”“All he wants is for you to be happy,” Isaac tries to explain again [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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