7Tonight's episode just gave me a lot of feels. Also, for the sake of the fic, instead of Stiles, Scott and Allison all going under together they are doing it one at a time.
"No. Not Lydia. It needs to be Derek." Stiles said softly. He knew that he had been heard though when he registered the sharp intake of breath from Derek. "It's supposed to be someone I have a strong connection with right? Well, for me that's Derek."
Derek stepped just a little closer to Stiles and spoke up, "You're not just asking me to pull you back though, Stiles. You're asking me to hold you under first." Derek looked directly into Stiles' eyes, "You're asking me to kill you."
Stiles sighed, "I know. I know it's not exactly something you want to do. Hell, you probably don't even understand why I'm asking it of you and not someone else. I know I've never told you how I feel, but if I'm about to die then it seems like a good time to be honest." He took a steadying breath. "I'm in love with you. And right now it doesn't matter that you don't care about me, all that matters is that if there's one person who I feel could pull me back from death itself it would be you. So I know you just tolerate me because of Scott so you probably don't care much if I die, and I know that killing people is kind of a sore subject with you, but my best chance is if it's you."
"I do care." It's almost a whisper and Stiles barely hears it. Then, a little louder, "I care far more than you would ever guess, Stiles. You dying is not something I can face." Derek looked down at the floor unable to meet Stiles prying gaze, "I can't help you."
Stiles reeled back a few steps, torn between shock and hurt. Collecting his thoughts, he turned to Lydia and with a slight hitch in his voice as he swallowed back fear he told her, "I'm sorry, but it has to be you then. I have to do this. If I have to actually die to save my dad then I will."
Lydia nodded mutely, understanding the gravity of what Stiles was asking of her. The terror in her eyes met the determination in Stiles' and she couldn't tell him no.
They both jumped when a loud growl came from Derek, "Dammit, Stiles, don't do this! Don't ask me to watch you kill yourself. This isn't what your dad would want and you know it. He would rather die than even contemplate the thought of you sacrificing yourself for him. Especially if you honestly don't think you'll make it back."
"So help me. Help me come back, Derek. Whether you help or not I'm still going under that water. If you have a problem with me dying than don't let me." Stiles spoke with a confidence he didn't feel.
Derek moved just a little closer and for a moment Stiles thought Derek was going to reach out to him but he stopped. Instead in a quiet voice he asked, "Can you guarantee that you will come back if I do it?"
Stiles' silence was enough of an answer and Derek suppressed the shudder that ran through him at the thought of losing Stiles. Worse than that, the thought of him being the one to kill Stiles, holding him under the icy water until he drowned.
"Derek. I need you." Stiles closed the distance between them and reached a trembling hand up to Derek's cheek. Derek leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and pretending for just a moment that they weren't arguing about who had to kill Stiles.
Derek swiftly wrapped his arms around Stiles and pulled him into tight embrace. "Is there really no talking you out of this?" He pleaded.
Stiles leaned his head against Derek's shoulders, returning the embrace as he murmured, "I'm sorry."
There was a brief press of lips to Stiles' forehead and then Derek was pulling back with a look of determination on his face. "If it's going to happen, I want it to be with the best chance of survival. I'll do whatever I need to."
Lydia silently left the room, going to the reception area of the vet clinic to wait with Scott and Allison who would go under next.
Deaton cleared his throat then and when Derek and Stiles looked at him he motioned to the tub of ice water waiting for Stiles. "The sooner the better." He told them.
Stiles took a deep breath and walked towards the metal tub, Derek followed after trying to ignore the tightness in his chest. His hand briefly grasped Stiles' and they shared a look and then Stiles was stepping into the ice with a hiss of pain at the sudden cold. Derek fought to stop himself from physically carrying the boy out of danger, his claws dug into his own palms as he resisted the instinct to protect Stiles.
"Derek? If I don't make it back I-"
"You will." Derek interrupted harshly. "I'm not going to give you the option of not coming back."
Stiles cracked a smile, "You know it's a shame that I didn't find out about your feelings until I'm about to die." Derek didn't answer; he simply squeezed a reassuring hand on Stiles' shoulder. "So, if you're right and I do make it back, can we start dating or are you going to go back to acting like you don't care?"
With a tight smile, Derek answered, "You'll have to come back to me to find out."
With one final shared look, Derek pressed Stiles down into the frozen water and hoped that it would not be the last time he saw the boy breathe.
The panic was instant. Even though Stiles still had air in his lungs, the feeling of being submerged by force told his mind that he was in trouble. He struggled to get ahold of himself, to remind himself that this was his choice. This was what he wanted. His hands scratched at the sides of the tub on instinct, trying to yank himself back out of the water. Then they latched onto the strong arms holding him under, digging his nails into Derek's arms desperately wanting them to release him. His body was acting purely on survival instinct now, telling him to get out of the water even as his mind told him to stay under.
Derek felt his heart tearing out of him as Stiles' fingers gripped him. The deep scratches from his nails healed over in less than a second but Derek could still feel them on his skin like a brand. A reminder that he was killing Stiles. Water drenched Derek as the flailing teenage body beneath him splashed water out of the tub in his violent efforts to get up.
Stiles had run out of air already. Now he just felt a burning pressure to breathe. A desire that he fought with everything he had. That breath of water, when he eventually took it, would be his last. Through the water, and the fog growing in his mind, Stiles saw the tear streaked face of Derek above him. He focused on it. He spent the last few moments of brain function taking in the agony on Derek's face. Then the moment of holding his breath passed and his oxygen starved brain took in a deep gasp of ice cold water. His body tried to cough it straight back up and drag in air but it only brought more water into his lungs. The blackness crept closer.
Derek watched in horror as Stiles gulped water into his burning lungs. Almost immediately his struggling slowed down. Then, it stopped and the sound of his heart beat ceased. The pale empty face of the boy he loved stared up at him with blank eyes. Derek pulled his hands out of the water as if he had been burned. He stared at them, trying to come to grips with the fact that his hands had willingly forced the life from Stiles.
"How long?" he asked brokenly. "How long does he have to be dead?"
Deaton was looking intently at his watch, counting the seconds. "It has to be at least five minutes."
The minutes dragged on, Stiles cold body floating limply in the tub while Derek sat slumped against the side of it clutching Stiles' hand. The silence in the room was deafening. A constant reminder of the heartbeat that was missing. The guilt and the fear racked Derek's mind. What if this didn't work? What if Stiles didn't come back? What if Derek had just killed the one he loved?
Finally Deaton gave a brief nod. It was all the permission Derek needed to haul Stiles out of the water. His body felt as cold as the ice it had been submerged in and Derek shook as he laid the figure on the ground. His quaking hands found their way to Stiles' head, tilting it up slightly to clear the airway. With a carefully controlled amount of strength Derek started compressions on Stiles' chest, trying to force the water back up out of his lungs. Then he leaned forward, holding Stiles' nose shut, and delivered two deep breaths into Stiles' mouth. As he continued the desperate CPR, he noted Deaton grabbing blankets and laying them nearby, ready to wrap around Stiles when he awoke. If he awoke.
Derek's efforts got more and more panicked as he struggled to press life into the body. His control slipped a little and he could feel Stiles' ribs cracking under the pressure he exerted on them. Forcing himself to pull back some of his strength; he channeled his worrying into words. "Come on, Stiles." He forced another two breaths into Stiles lungs. "Wake up. Don't you dare leave me." Two more breaths. "Dammit, Stiles, breathe! Open your damn eyes and breathe." Stiles' chest stubbornly refused to rise and fall on its own. Derek felt hysteria welling up in him as he continued to be the only one putting air into Stiles' lungs. "Don't do this, Stiles. Don't leave me alone. Don't make me live without you. You are not allowed to die before I tell you that I love you too. Wake the hell up."
Derek pushed more breath into Stiles and suddenly there was a twitch of life. A flicker across the pale face of the boy. His body jerked and he was suddenly trying to sit up and he was coughing up water, retching it out of his lungs as he gasped to fill his lungs back up with air. It took Derek a few moments to fully realize that Stiles was breathing again and when he did he sagged against the tub, the sudden release of tension and fear draining him of energy. His hand lifted and rubbed gentle circles into Stiles' back as the young man's body shook with the effort to remove all the water from inside it. When at last Stiles stopped spitting up water, Derek pulled the boy closer to him until Stiles' back was leaning against his chest. Stiles was still panting, his lungs still fighting to pull in enough air. "You're okay." Derek whispered into his ear. "You're alive, Stiles. You're alive." His voice was breaking as he swallowed down the tears threatening to tumble out in relief. "Please don't ever make me do that to you again." He begged.
The coldness of the body pressed against him reminded Derek of the blankets Deaton had left for them. He reached for one and wrapped it solidly around them, trapping his own body heat in with Stiles.
Stiles had regained somewhat regular breathing, but when his voice came out it was scratchy and hoarse. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you do it." Derek only hugged Stiles closer, though he loosened his grip a little at the gasp of pain reminding him of the cracked ribs. "Hey, Derek?"
"Hmm?"
"Does this mean that we can start dating?"
Derek just smiled and pressed a feather light kiss to Stiles' temple.
