Do you have a rec for any good vulnerable!Derek or PTSD!Derek fics?
ptsd it is
“Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf.” An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.
This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves.
Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles.
Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.
“It’s 2 A.M.,” Derek says. “What are you doing here?”
Stiles turns to him with raised eyebrows. “We haven’t finished Harry Potter,” he says, as if it’s obvious, and Derek just stares at him. “I mean, if you don’t want to know what happens with Fluffy and the dragon, fine. But I personally think that the plot only gets better from here.“
In which Derek and Stiles are both broken, but it takes a few paperback novels for them to realize that it makes them fit together just right.
“I have… well… she said that she thinks that I maybe have… PTSD?”
The line goes so dead that Derek almost thinks Stiles hung up on him. He waits eight very quiet seconds, and says softly, “Stiles?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Stiles says, breath whooshing back over the phone line.
“I have PTSD,” Derek says more firmly. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, not as a question. It hasn’t really seemed real, until now. He’d spent the whole of his last session arguing that Tamara was wrong about him, and saying it out loud is like admitting it’s true. “Post-traumatic stress dis—”
“I know what it means,” Stiles interrupts, “I just didn’t think I’d heard right. Oh my God.”
There aren’t really words for this – “sure, dude. Let’s hang out sometime and bond over the fact that our lives suck and we’ve both basically killed a bunch of people by accident” somehow doesn’t roll off the tongue.
”The five stages of grief,” Stiles nods and sighs. They’ve both seen it, been through it. Heard them repeated by therapist after therapist. Stiles doesn’t say anything, but they both know which one Derek’s slipped into by now.
When things calm down in Beacon Hills, all the things Derek hasn’t dealt with come back with a vengeance. Stiles does his best to help him.