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When Stiles Stilinski signed up for his social psychology class, he wasn't sure what he expected from it. He definitely didn't expect the professor, a month in, to tell them they'd be spending the next three weeks actually living with certain handicaps.
"We've discussed the psychology of social handicaps, but now we are going to look at the psychology of physical handicaps. How we are treated and how we treat these people will come to light. Now, everyone get out a piece of paper and a pencil. We are going to outline the next three weeks of your life."
Oh yeah, this was going to either be a disaster or be awesome.
"First off are the handicaps I'm talking about. Hearing impairments, sight impairments, and speech impairments. Yes, I'm talking about being deaf, blind, and mute. Each week will be dedicated to one of these handicaps."
Stiles wrote it down, glancing at the calendar on the wall to write out the dates. On the calendar was already written which week was going to be which.
"For each week, I'll be giving you the source of your handicap. For the first week, being deaf, I'll be giving ear plugs."
He produced a large basket with brand new packets of ear plugs were. They were flesh colored, so they wouldn't stand out. He opened one packet and put them in, and then told one of the students in a slightly louder voice than usual to say something.
"What should I say?" The professor waved his hand, in a "say that again" gesture, and the student repeated it but the professor shrugged. He pulled the plugs out and asked the student to repeat it.
"I said 'what should I say'." The professor laughed, putting his ear plugs in the packet once more and stowing them in his pocket.
"Very original. Okay, so that proves how well these things work. You can hear a dull murmur, but nothing concrete. Okay, now everyone needs to grab two packets as the basket goes around."
He passed around the basket, each student pulling out two packets, but he made sure to tell them not to put them in just yet.
"So here's your assignment. Starting Sunday night whenever you go to sleep, put these in. You'll wear them all day and change them Monday night. Tuesday when you come in, I'll give you the next packets."
Stiles flipped the packets over, looking over the instructions. He was okay with wearing earbuds, but actually stuffing something into his ear? It was going to be odd. And sleeping in them? That was going to suck.
"Here's the actual assignment. You'll be living with this impairment for a week. Going to classes, spending time with friends, sleeping, all of it will be done deaf. That being said, here are the rules. Obviously I won't know if you don't actually do it besides the times that I see you in class, but I'm putting this on good faith. If I find out afterwards that at any time you did not, you'll be getting a failing grade for the assignment. And this assignment is worth sixty percent of your grade."
Stiles winced, but wrote down the percentage and circled it. In the syllabus, it'd been explained that sixty percent of the final grade was up to the professor. He hadn't expected something like this.
"Also, it can be very dangerous to get around with this impairment. Since I don't want anything to happen to one of my students, you'll need to participate in the buddy system. You are my only class doing this, so any friends you have in your sister class will be free to help. Other students, friends, or parents should be along for the ride. Literally. Don't drive by yourself."
That'd be hard for Stiles, whose friends were always so busy and whose father was the sheriff. Oh well, he'd figure something out.
"You have three grace periods, each only ten minutes in length. This is honor based, which you'll remember signing the honor code at the beginning of term. For ten minutes, three times in your week, you can go without having your plugs in. Other than that, they must stay in."
That was good news. Stiles wrote that down and underlined it. That'd come in handy.
"Remember, this starts Sunday night. If you check your email, I'll send you a reminder of the terms and conditions. Stay safe, have an enjoyable and noisy weekend, and come Sunday night, embrace the silence."
The class was released and Stiles fumbled to get his things back into his bag so that he could leave. So Psy, as the class was called, was his last class of the day the three days he had it, so he was ready to get home.
He ran into one of his classmates on the way to the parking lot. The girl was grumbling, staring at the ear plug packets in her hand.
"This is bullshit. I'll probably only do it the days I'll see Professor Canton. Can you believe he honestly expects us to wear them all week and not lie about it? He's too old to be that stupid." She stalked off without waiting for a response.
Not that Stiles had one, because he was excited for this assignment. And he fully intended on doing it without cheating or lying. It'd be hard and a challenge but that's why Stiles wanted to do it. He liked a challenge.
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His dad had liked the assignment when he explained it to him, telling him that text messages were going to be the best way to talk to him for that week. He still lived at home, since the whole reason for going to Beacon Hills Community College was to save money, so it'd be down to texts or written notes.
Which was about how it was since his dad became the sheriff. Not that Stiles was bitter, he just worried about his dad.
His friends had been less excited about it.
"That sounds really weird dude." Scott McCall was on the BHCC lacrosse practice field with Jackson Whittemore. The two had struck up an unlikely friendship (or ceasefire as Jackson liked to call it) once they found out they were both werewolves. Plus, their girlfriends were best friends, so it helped if they tried to be friendly.
"I think it's awesome. I mean, think about it dude, I'm going to experience things in new ways." Jackson rolled his eyes and pushed off of the bench he'd been relaxing on since Stiles had stumbled onto the field.
"Well that's all well and good, but we're trying to practice here Stilinski. Maybe you can talk to McCall when it is not intruding on my time?"
Stiles rolled his eyes back at Jackson because that's what he was expected to do. They were all in the same group of friends, the same pack if they went by what Derek Hale forced upon them sometimes, so there was a good amount of friendship between the three of them now.
Or, still like Jackson called it, a ceasefire.
When he left the field, he ran into Allison Argent and Lydia Martin, the girlfriends of Scott and Jackson. They linked up with Stiles, pulling him back to the field to watch their boyfriends be macho with one another.
"So, how're classes?" Stiles sighed, rubbing his neck as he relayed the information once more. He should have waited until the pack meeting on Saturday to tell everyone what was going on. He still had to tell Danny Jepson and Derek what was going on.
Allison and Lydia, however, seemed a bit more excited about it than Jackson and Scott had been.
"That sounds really cool. And you'll be blind and mute after that? You gotta admit, that's pretty awesome." Allison was saying it but still watching her boyfriend run on the field, so Stiles didn't hold too much to that. Lydia, however, didn't even seem to notice the guys on the field at all.
"That's So Psy 121, right? I'm taking that next semester. I hope we get to do something like that."
Ever since Stiles admitted to Lydia his infatuation right before graduation, they'd become good friends. He'd admitted his infatuation of her and then explained that he was over her and pretty sure he was obsessed with someone else now.
Stiles felt a little ill that it'd taken her less than two guesses on who that someone else was. Honestly though, who wasn't a little in love with Derek Hale these days?
"Well if you do this, I'll give you some tips on how to survive. If I survive."
She laughed politely and squeezed his arm, turning her eyes to the field for a brief second before turning to look back at him. She dropped her voice so that Allison wouldn't hear it.
"Maybe we can talk Derek into being your buddy."
He was going to blame his blush on the heat and not on her tone. Just for his own sanity.
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Telling Danny and Derek was actually pretty anti-climatic. Danny was in So Psy 121 as well, in the sister class that Canton had referred to, so he knew about it even though he wasn't participating. Derek had simply raised an eyebrow and said he couldn't wait for the week that Stiles would have to be mute.
"I object. I don't talk nearly as much as I used to and anyways, what I say is usually important."
That had gotten him a few odd looks, but he shrugged them off. He was used to it.
After the meeting, which had been a lot of talk between the three werewolves about what they should be working on for training, Stiles found himself cleaning up with Derek. Everyone else had left, mostly because Lydia was absolutely dedicated to somehow getting Stiles and Derek together and suspected that sheer force of will and increased exposure would do the trick.
Honestly, he'd known them for years. If increased exposure hadn't turned Derek gay for Stiles yet, he doubted it would now.
"Your coach isn't going to appreciate you being blind for a week. Don't you have a meet that week?" Stiles looked into his mental calendar and shrugged.
"I have three ten minute grace periods. I can probably use it for that." He had switched to track when he got to college, since lacrosse just wasn't right for him and he'd done a lot of running since being involved with the werewolves.
He was pretty good. Actually damn good. He rarely came in anything but third or better.
He also didn't spare a lot of thought to the fact that Derek apparently knew his schedule like that. That was just Derek. He could probably tell you anything about any of their schedules. He liked to know where his pack was at any given time.
"It starts tomorrow night? Well good luck." Stiles paused in putting the last of the dishes away before nodding at Derek.
"I'll need it. Driving while deaf is going to be interesting. Be sure you listen to that police scanner you don't know that I know about. You hear about any massive wrecks because someone couldn't hear a siren or a horn or a train or something, it's just me."
He laughed it off and Derek rolled his eyes, but nothing else was said. After making sure the place was left in exactly the condition they found it in, Stiles nodded to himself and moved to grab his stuff and head towards the door. Derek's apartment, the one he moved into about a year ago, wasn't too far from Stiles' house so he usually just walked.
"Catch you in the funny papers." With that, he ducked down the steps and out of the complex, whistling as he headed home.
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Stiles woke up late. Not even late, but about two hours late. He hadn't heard his alarm go off, but he was deaf now, so that was kind of to be expected. That sucked. Thankfully he woke up bright and early only to go on long runs and not actually for any classes, so he didn't miss anything besides dawn and breakfast.
He showered and dressed, fighting the urge to turn on his music like he usually would. In the bathroom, his dad had stuck a sticky note with the words "good luck!" written on them on the mirror. That had been sweet.
He went downstairs and ate quickly, making sure he had everything he'd need for his classes. Mondays and Wednesdays were his heaviest days, four classes back to back from noon until six. He grabbed his keys and stepped outside, stopping short at the sight of the Camaro parked in front of his house.
It'd happened a few times over the years, but Stiles had usually been expecting those. He made his way to the car and poked his head into the driver's side where Derek was watching him from behind his sunglasses.
"Can I help you?" He knew he was probably talking loudly, since he couldn't figure out how loud was too loud, but Derek simply jerked his head towards the passenger seat.
Stiles stared at it for a moment before turning back to Derek and raising an eyebrow.
"Can you be a little more specific?" Derek sighed, something Stiles saw but didn't hear. He pointed at Stiles and then at the passenger seat. Stiles eyed the empty seat and then it hit him. He was offering to take Stiles to school.
"Nah man, I got this. Besides, you'd just have to take me home at six anyways. No reason to-- ah, okay!" He couldn't hear the growl, but the flashing eyes made the sentiment clear. He slipped his keys into his pocket and crossed to the passenger side, sliding into the seat and giving Derek a glare that should have intimidated him.
Except that really, Stiles wasn't particularly scary. He tried, he just didn't succeed.
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His classes were hell. Canton had sent emails to all professors with a list of students in his class that would be participating in the assignment so they knew what to look for, but that didn't make it easier. Because this had been done once before, the year before, the professors were actually really accommodating and made print outs of the notes, but Stiles didn't realize how much he relied on the teacher's voice to get the information across.
He ate between classes, quickly since they were only spaced out with fifteen minutes between them, and by the end of the day he was beyond exhausted. He didn't feel like he learned anything.
A girl from his last class of the day found him out by the picnic tables where he was waiting to spot Derek's car so he could go home. She wrote on a piece of paper that if he needed help with what had been discussed today, she'd be glad to go over the notes with him.
Stiles had been so appreciative that he contemplated proposing marriage. She laughed at his eagerness and wrote down her email and her phone number, adding in parentheses that he could text her or, whenever he had his hearing back, he could call.
When she walked out, Stiles realized what just happened. He just got hit on and flirted with and got a girl's number, without even trying. Dude. He had serious game.
If only said game would work on a particular sourwolf alpha who was late picking him up.
Just when he was contemplating calling one of the other pack members to pick him up, the Camaro drove up. Everyone knew who that car belonged to, so everyone stared quite openly as Stiles slipped into the passenger seat.
"You're late." He didn't expect a response, since Derek knew he couldn't hear him, but Derek was talking. Stiles waved a hand at him and gestured to his ears, trying to remind him that he wouldn't hear it, but Derek didn't stop.
He obviously knew he couldn't hear him and was taking advantage of that. Probably threatening Stiles within an inch of his life for some reason or other.
Outside of the Stilinski house, Stiles turned to Derek who was still talking. He waited, assuming it'd be rude to just leave even though he couldn't hear him anyways. Once he was done, he nodded at Stiles in a dismissive way. Stiles opened his mouth to respond to that but shook his head instead.
"Thanks for the ride." He got out, hoisting his bag up his back and stomping up the driveway to the house.
His head was killing him, from the lack of noise or the pressure in his ears, but it didn't matter. He tucked his legs underneath him on the couch and flicked on the television, turning on the captions as an afterthought.
He was getting good at this.
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The second day didn't go much better. He didn't hear his alarm, but woke up just in time to dress and get something in his stomach before he stumbled onto his porch. Once again, Derek was parked in front of the house.
He didn't even bother putting up a fight. Lydia must have talked Derek into the buddy system after all.
He only had two classes on this rotation, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. The first one was easy enough since they watched a lot of movies and the professor used the captions anyways and the second one was So Psy.
Canton wrote on the board and passed out evaluation sheets and other odds and ends throughout the class. He was also wearing his ear plugs, so speaking was useless on all accounts. He flicked the lights to get their attention so that they could switch gears.
Oddly enough, it was a relaxing class for Stiles. Probably because he knew he wasn't missing something that was being said. The class ended quicker than usual and they all dispersed after grabbing the next handful of packets.
Stiles went to the lunch room and ate slowly, since he had a good twenty minutes to spare before Derek got there. If he was on time. He felt his phone vibrate against his leg and he pulled it out, checking who it was before he opened the text.
running little late. be there twenty after.
After wiping off his hands, Stiles tapped his fingers against the screen quickly.
I can find a ride, don't worry about it.
He put the phone down and finished eating, putting all of his trash on his tray so that he could throw it away in one go, when his phone lit up. He opened the text and forced himself not to roll his eyes.
be there twenty after.
Stiles sighed, tucking the phone back into his pocket and throwing away his trash. He'd love to know what Lydia had threatened Derek with to get him to be so dedicated to this transport system he had going.
He made his way out onto the quad, watching the other people mill around towards classes or whatever else they were doing. He saw the girl that was going to help him with his notes and waved. He felt bad because he had her number and she was going to help him with the work but he couldn't really remember her name.
Meg? No. Mary? No, that wasn't it. Mel? He gave up. He'd just avoid using her name until he was sure.
Forty minutes after getting out of class, twenty after the class was supposed to have ended, Derek pulled into the parking lot. Stiles hoisted his bag over his shoulder and headed over, trying not to look as sour as he felt.
He slid into the car, letting his bag fall on his feet as he slammed the door. If Derek had anything to say, he kept it to himself.
Stiles wasn't sure why he was so angry. He didn't think he was angry at Derek, because while he was being very commanding about it, he didn't have to drive Stiles around like he was. He was doing that out of the good of his... well, out of fear of Lydia he guessed.
He really needed to figure out what she said to him.
At the house, Stiles started to get out but Stiles handed him something. It was a small notepad, small enough to fit in a pocket, with a pen attached. Written in Derek's clipped handwriting were the words 'set your alarm to vibrate and leave it on your bed.'
Stiles looked it over and then thought about it. He always woke up whenever his phone had vibrated on his bed for a text, so it should work for the alarm. Wow. He couldn't believe he never thought about that.
"Thanks man." He started to hand the notepad back but Derek shook his head, pushing it towards Stiles. He wanted him to have it.
"Huh. Thanks for that too." He tucked it into his bag before getting out of the car and heading towards the front door.
That was... strange.
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The next few days went by almost without a hitch. He woke up early enough for his morning runs, he ate an actual breakfast, Derek took him to classes, he made an effort to pay attention in class, he went to practice on Wednesday and Thursday, and then Derek picked him back up.
By Friday, Stiles was a pro at the being hearing impaired. He was reminded in So Psy that the only had until Sunday morning to be deaf. They were given the instruments of their next impairment, a blindfold that was adjusted to fit snuggly on their heads so it wouldn't fall off during sleep and a white cane that folded up. He wrote on the board that he'd email them the specifics Sunday morning and then dismissed the class. When he left the building, Stiles found Derek parked in the lot on time. First time for everything.
When he slid into the seat, Derek mimed writing something and Stiles fished the notepad out of his pocket. He hadn't used it much, a few random things that made no sense by themselves written on the first few pages. Derek flipped to a free page and wrote something down quickly, handing it back to Stiles afterwards.
'pack meeting tonight, not tomorrow. you in?' They were usually held on Saturdays unless something came up and someone couldn't make it. If it was unavoidable, that person was just absent, but Derek had taken to making sure everyone was there.
"Sure thing. I mean, I won't have to listen to you and Scott and Jackson talk werewolf stuff, so this is actually awesome news."
Derek rolled his eyes as he put the car into drive. It wasn't that Stiles really minded the three of them being super secret werewolf brothers or whatever, just that Stiles kind of felt a little useless sometimes. He was stuck with the girlfriends and Danny.
Not that they were any less members of the pack just because they were humans and boring. Stiles knew that. He just also knew that he'd feel better if he had some use besides comic relief.
They pulled up to the apartment and Stiles stomped up the steps, not even waiting for Derek to join him. Once at the door, he had to wait because he didn't have a key.
Not that he wanted a key to Derek's place because Stiles wasn't sure he'd trust himself not to break in and attack him in a sexual way.
They weren't there by themselves for long before the rest of the pack started to arrive. Lydia had raised her eyebrow at seeing Stiles and Derek on the couch together passing notes like little girls, but the notes had been about the show they were watching so Stiles refused to count them.
The rest of the pack got there and they laid about for a while until Derek decided they needed to actually have their meeting. Danny decided to take over writing down what was going on, telling Stiles little pieces of the information going around.
Speed training, fighting needs work, Jackson trying to be macho, potential other pack nearby that needs to be looked into, did anyone else see that news report about the massive slaughter of deer lately, Allison's dad wanted to make sure it wasn't them, Scott could try to focus his energies on training rather than lacrosse.
All in all, it was just like every other pack meeting they'd had. At the end, Stiles got up and moved to start cleaning. The others were still there, which was a surprise, but he couldn't hear them speak. He could tell from the few looks they shot him that they were at least mentioning him. Derek hadn't looked his way once though, so maybe not.
By time he finished, the rest of the pack had finally dispersed. Stiles glanced around, surprised at how fast he'd cleaned the place, before looking over at Derek.
"Guess I should head home." He grabbed his book bag and was about to head to the door when he saw Derek grabbing his keys.
"Dude. I walk home. Remember?" Derek raised an eyebrow, fingers curled around his keys as he stared at Stiles until he sighed.
"Fine. Whatever. Here's a hint, man, learn to blink. It's unnerving."
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Saturday Stiles went for a long run through the woods early in the morning. Usually he'd have his headphones on, but with the earplugs he had to do without. He started off slow, aiming for distance rather than speed. He wasn't sure how far he was when his side started to ache, but he recognized the area with a dull sense of dread.
The Hale house was empty now, since Derek moved into the apartment. He'd salvaged all he could and the rest stayed there, home to whatever animals broke in and slept on the old furniture.
He didn't know why Derek didn't just bulldoze the place and build again, or just bulldoze it anyways. What good did it do to leave it standing, an open wound literally and figuratively?
He slowed to a walk, placing his hands on his knees and breathing heavily. He was close enough to just barely spot the shadow of the house in the distance. He hadn't been there in a long time, months before Derek moved.
Even though he knew he was alone, it was barely seven in the morning, Stiles cast a look around him before moving closer to the house. Figured it couldn't hurt. He moved slowly, encased in silence. There could be a killer behind him telling him how he was going to kill him and Stiles wouldn't hear it.
It was both terrifying and exhilarating. Oh yeah, he had brain damage. Being friends with werewolves had made him okay with danger. That was interesting.
Once the house was clear in front of him, he changed his direction and circled to the back. The last time he'd been at the house, he'd been in the back with Derek talking about whether or not he thought Scott would be able to make it as a werewolf.
Stiles wasn't so sure, because not a day went by that Scott didn't prove that he wasn't cut out for it, but Derek said he'd come into his own some day.
It'd been a nice conversation, one that didn't lead to Derek throwing him against a wall for once. It'd been the first time that he'd seen how honestly okay Derek was with his new pack. That'd been worth it to Stiles.
He stared at the house, the fire damage and how parts seemed to have collapsed on itself over the past year. The sadness in that house dripped over the edges, soaking every pebble and leaf that surrounded it. Something about the silence that Stiles was forced to have seemed to amplify the sadness he felt.
He shook off the feeling and headed back the way he came, quick as if he was intruding on something he shouldn't see. He felt like the house was watching him, like it was watching his retreating back. Felt like it was asking him to come back.
Once he was out of sight of the house, whether it could see him or he could see it, he started back at a jog. The morning light came through the leaves and seemed to break him of the thoughts that he'd been stuck on.
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Sunday morning, he woke up and popped out the ear plugs. The times he'd changed them before had always been at night when it was quiet, but in the morning, there were birds chirping and his dad making a lot of racket downstairs where he was making breakfast for the two of them. His head swam with the noise.
He told his dad he was going to go on a quick run before breakfast, smiling at the familiar sound of his dad's voice. He put on his tennis shoes and headed out, his smile returning to full force with the familiar sounds he'd grown so accustomed to not hearing. Cars in the distance, kids laughing, someone mowing their grass. On his run, he focused on the sound of his feet hitting the pavement over and over until he got lost in it.
He almost didn't realize that he was standing outside of Derek's apartment complex until he saw Derek coming down the steps. He had enough time, he could probably duck behind a car and hide, but he decided not to.
Instead he called out Derek's name and waved when the older man caught his eye. He moved over to him, smiling the half smile he reserved for the pack.
"Good morning Stiles." Stiles felt his heart thudding from his run, and probably from something else.
"Never thought I'd say this, but I think I missed your voice." Derek's half smile grew just a bit at that.
"Need a ride back home?" He gestured to his car and Stiles shook his head, casting a glance over his shoulder the way he'd come.
"Nah. Just going for a quick run. Didn't even realize I was headed this way until I stopped. It was good to see you."
Derek didn't respond, simply watched as Stiles turned and ran the way he came. It was almost a familiar feeling, Derek's eyes on his back. He tried not to trip over his feet as he ran, waving at the people that were up and about that early on a Sunday.
Back home he showered and reheated his breakfast, telling his dad how good it felt to be able to hear the water and hear his feet on the cement and just... he never realized how much he took his hearing for granted. His dad laughed, another noise that Stiles had missed, as he put his own dishes up.
"I think you may have just figured out the point of this assignment Stiles."
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After breakfast, Stiles checked his school email. Canton had emailed them twice, the first time with the prompt for their homework and the second time with the rules for the next week.
The first email was short and to the point. He wanted them to write about their experience, having something as important as their hearing taken away, and what it meant? How did it affect their lives? How did they teach themselves to cope, if they were able to? Did they use their grace periods, and if so, on what? What did it mean to them when they were able to take the plugs out for good?
Stiles spent a good three hours on the paper, hashing it out to the best of his ability. He emailed it in, as requested, and then opened the second one.
Dear So Psy students,
I daresay you had a long week of not being able to hear. Well here comes the second part of the assignment, not being able to see.
Friday you were given a blindfold which I then adjusted to fit your cranium. These are made with a gripping material on the face to not slip off in sleep. They are also water proof, so the shower or rain or sweat should not bother them. You were also given white canes which will be very useful to you this week. Be careful with them as I will need to return them once the experiment is over.
You'll put it on tonight before bed. The same grace period will be issued for this, three chances of ten minutes each. Also, since you obviously cannot drive with this impairment, if you absolutely cannot find someone to drive you, you should do so by taking off your blindfold. This does not count as your grace period since this is for your safety rather than a want.
Good luck on this next endeavor. Be safe and use common sense.
Signed,
R. Canton
Stiles read over it twice before going over to his bag where the blindfold and white cane were. He unfolded the white cane and practiced, closing his eyes and using it to tap around the room. It wasn't that bad, but he knew it would be difficult once he knew he didn't have the choice to open his eyes just in case.
He spent the rest of the day making preparations for the following week. He layered his clothing in his drawer so he knew what he'd be wearing. He made sure he could easily get to his socks and underwear. In the shower he separated his shampoo and his body wash. He even went as far as programming his phone to read out the time.
Once he had everything as planned out as he could, he sent a text to the pack to say that if they needed him, they'd better call for the next week. He got a few texts back, but the one that surprised him (although it really shouldn't), was from Derek.
ill see you in the morning.
Seems like he was still going to be chauffeuring Stiles around this week. He was glad. At least then he didn't have to worry about finding someone else.
It just felt odd, how helpful Derek was being. For the first time Stiles had to wonder if it was because of something Lydia said after all.
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Being blind was a lot different than being deaf. His phone chirped him awake but it took him four tries to turn it off. He stumbled into the shower, knocking his toes on every surface between his bed and the bathroom. At least dressing wasn't that difficult.
He had made sure all of his stuff was together before he'd blindfolded himself so there was that. He hoisted the bag on his shoulder and then unfolded the white can, using it to tap down the stairs. He could hear his dad moving around in the kitchen so he aimed in that direction.
"This is a disaster already." He heard his dad laugh and he slumped into a chair, almost falling when he misjudged the distance.
"It'll get easier in a few days son. Remember, you weren't doing so hot those first few days last week either." Stiles grumbled, gracefully accepting the plate his dad put it front of him.
"Don't worry Stiles, it's finger food."
He glared at his dad from behind the blindfold, but his frown must have been telling because he heard his dad laughing.
After washing his hands and face and dusting off his clothes, Stiles used the cane to get him to the front door. He was about to use it to get down the porch too, but it smacked into the sounded soft. He smacked it against the object again before reaching out with his hand. His fingers collided with a chest and Stiles jumped back, barely refraining from tipping over because of the hand that wrapped around his wrist.
"No offense, but you're not going to survive this week." Stiles relaxed at Derek's familiar voice before straightening up.
"I didn't expect you to be right there at the door, okay, give me some credit." He heard Derek snort and then jumped again when Derek grabbed his bicep and lightly pulled him onto the porch.
"Yeah, but I was imagining you taking a dive off the porch and how upset it'd make your dad. I like your dad. He's a good sheriff. Don't want him to lose his only son to sheer stupidity on his own part."
Stiles opened his mouth to counter that but he tripped over his own foot and snapped his mouth shut instead. He just knew his face was burning up, but Derek didn't comment on it. Instead he guided him down the stairs and into the passenger seat of the Camaro.
"I have an image of your entire class stumbling around campus and causing an enormous amount of damage." Stiles couldn't help but laugh. It was probably true.
"They did it once before, last year some time, so I think the campus is prepared for any damage." Derek made a noise, but Stiles wasn't sure what it was supposed to be.
They rode mostly in silence except for the sound of the car. When he pulled to a stop, Stiles could hear his door open and Stiles reached out to grab his arm and stop him from getting out of the car.
"Not that I don't appreciate the help, I'm not sure how it'll look it you open my door for me and help me out of the car. Blind or not, I gotta do this one on my own."
He waited, feeling the tense muscles of Derek's arm through his shirt and jacket. He waited until the muscles relaxed and Derek agreed, shutting his door once more. Stiles took a deep breath, mumbling a 'here goes' under his breath, before stepping out of the car.
Cane at the ready, he stumbled from the car towards the building he had his first class in. He knew the layout of the campus, had memorized it vigorously before he ever started classes there. He wasn't so worried about that.
He was more worried about the layout of the campus being sprinkled with hot head jocks that wouldn't take kindly to being bumped into.
This was proven as Stiles smacked into someone that definitely felt big and bulky, and just as he opened his mouth to apologize, he heard a sarcastic but very familiar voice.
"I know that I'm good looking Stilinski, but you don't have to throw yourself at me." Stiles fought the urge to use the cane to beat Jackson with. Canton had asked them not to damage the canes.
"What can I say; I'm attracted to sculpted abs and no personality." Someone nearby snorted, a feminine sound that told Stiles that Lydia was standing right there.
"Oh the things I could say. But I won't, because I'm nice." Stiles thought about strangling himself but then shook his head.
"I'm going to be late for class. You people... just stand there and look perfect." He patted Jackson on the arm and was surprised when Jackson moved them so that Stiles was pointing, if he remembered the layout correctly, in the right direction for his first class.
"Thanks man."
That was the highlight of the day.
----------
Four classes and one very awkward conversation with girl in the girl's bathroom later, Stiles slumped over at the picnic table and contemplated slamming his head into the wood. Having his hearing back was awesome, but he really couldn't stand not being able to see.
He heard someone approaching and he fought off a laugh. Of course, lose his sight and he gets enhanced hearing. He's going to make a red leather suit and call himself Daredevil for the time being.
"Hey Stiles, it's Mindy." Mindy? Oh! The girl that was going to help him with his notes. He never did get in touch with her. He wondered if she thought that was a blow off.
It kind of was, even if he didn't mean it as one. He was content with pining at a distance for Derek. Even though the distance part was sketchy lately.
"Hey there." He heard her shift in front of him, her shoes squeaking in the grass. He wasn't sure what should happen next, but she filled in the blanks for him.
"Listen, I was wondering if you'd like to go to the caf with me and get something to eat? I'm just wasting time until my next class, but I thought it might not hurt to have some company." Stiles thought about it and opened his mouth to answer when he heard a familiar voice.
"Your chariot awaits." He wished he could take a grace period to see Mindy's face at that, but instead he just hefted himself up and smiled a bit.
"Rain check?" He heard her cough before saying something that resembled 'of course'. Once she was gone, Stiles started to tap his way towards the parking lot, fairly certain that Derek was going to follow. He fumbled with the handle of the door before he could get it open, dumping his book bag on the floor and sliding it, folding up the cane and sitting it in his lap.
Derek joined him a few second later, turning the car on before he even shut the door.
"That was smooth Stiles. Very smooth." Stiles shrugged.
"I didn't want to go to the caf with her anyways. It'd just make her think I'm interested in her." There was silence from Derek's side at that.
One day mostly over, he still had the rest of the week before his sight would be returned to him. As much as he'd like to just whip the blindfold off and say screw it, he was going to stick with it.
"What time is your meet on Friday?" Stiles thought about it for a second.
"Six. I talked to coach during practice last week. I'm just gonna stretch and prepare while blindfolded and then take the blindfold off for my event and then go back to being in the dark. He's not even worried that I won't be ready because I told him I go longer than just a week without running before meets sometimes. He wasn't happy about that, actually."
He wanted to glance at Derek, to know if he was annoyed by Stiles' ramblings or what, but he couldn't. He settled for listening intently, but he couldn't hear anything.
When he pulled up to the house, Stiles slipped out and actually accepted Derek's help to and up the stairs.
"Thanks man. Wouldn't want to break my neck or something." Derek muttered his agreement before telling him he'd see him in the morning.
Stiles stumbled through the house, putting his bag on the couch where he knew he could find it later, and made his way into the kitchen and helped himself to a bottle of water. He'd be happy when he could see again.
Not being able to hear Derek had been bad enough, but not being able to see the little facial expressions that he made that sometimes said more than his words could? Yeah. He missed that.
-----------
Tuesday actually went a little better. He didn't stub anything and he survived the car ride to the campus without thinking once about how much he wanted to see what Derek was wearing or if he looked happy or annoyed. He went to his first class and then stumbled to So Psy where the room was basically the human version of bumper cars.
"Okay guys, sit down. Lots to talk about and not a lot of time to do it." It took another five minutes for everyone to sit down and get settled. Canton tripped up to the podium and laughed as he almost knocked it over.
"If you can't tell, I also have my blindfold on. Okay, so let's talk about how your first day went. Anyone want to start, just say your name."
There was silence as no one offered up their experiences. Stiles was surprised. Usually this class talked non-stop about relevant things. Finally he bit the bullet.
"Stiles. Uh, yeah, compared to the first impairment, this is hell. I can handle being deaf because I guess I'm good at reading people's body language and facial features so I could figure things out that way. Like this though? Someone can say something, or worse, not say anything, and I don't know what's going on. It's hell." He heard a murmur of agreement from the class and a few other people started to talk.
At the end of the conversation, Canton brought Stiles back into it.
"Okay, so Stiles, let me direct this at you. You now know that the rest of the class is going through about the same thing you are. So here's my question for you. How are you going to cope with not being able to tell people's emotions by sight but instead having to rely on their voice?"
Stiles thought about it for a moment, running the question over and over through his mind before he figured out the best way to answer it.
"It'd be nice if I could just ask the people to tell me what they are feeling, but we can't. I could learn to read the infliction in their voice, but that might take longer than the week we have. I think for the week we have to go through this, I'm just going to have to go on instinct."
The class murmured their agreement before Canton released the class. Stiles stayed back so that the potential of getting run over by the collectively blind group was lowered. He heard Canton moving around the back of the room and he couldn't help it, he moved in that direction.
"Sir?" He heard the man stop shifting stuff together and waited.
"Yes Stiles?" He shifted a few times on his feet, accidentally tapping his cane against a desk as he did so.
"This is a social experiment, right? We're looking at how these impairments effect people in social situations, how it affects people in every day life." The man sat down and Stiles fought the urge to do the same.
"Yes, exactly." Stiles shook his head, because there was something else.
"It's not just a social experiment though, is it? It's personal. If you wanted us to see how it affects people, we'd be talking to people who live with this impairment. You want us to see its effects on our own lives, to show how we adapt to these conditions. You're throwing us into a shark pit to see if we can swim."
The man chuckled and stood up. Stiles felt something on his shoulder and her jerked before he realized that it was Canton's hand.
"You're a bright person Stiles. I'll appreciate it if you kept it to yourself. I want the rest of the class to figure that one out on their own."
Stiles nodded, and then voiced his agreement when he remembered that Canton couldn't see him. As he made his way to the door, Canton's voice stopped him.
"And if it is any consolation Stiles, I have complete faith in your swimming abilities."
-----------
Stiles went to practice for track on Wednesday and Thursday, but was unable to participate. He sat on the bench with the others and talked, explaining the assignment to a few people who didn't know about it already. It was not relaxing, to have all of that activity around him but for him to not be part of it. He wanted to move, wanted to run, but he had to wait. He already decided to get on the treadmill that his dad had bought but never used. That way he wouldn't be in danger but he could get some running done.
Thursday night, after Derek had dropped him off with a promise to pick him up in the morning, Stiles went to the barely used basement climbed onto the never used treadmill and turned it on. He started slow, a warm up more than anything. After a little while, he pushed the speed a bit, feeling the tightness in his shoulders release as he moved.
Somewhere in it all, he lost track of what was going on. He wasn't sure how long he'd been running, but he was no longer going for a mindless jog. He was all out running, the sound of his feet on the machine echoing, his chest heaving with exertion, his thoughts trained somewhere just out of reach. Just as he was about to slow down, he heard something behind him.
Even though he couldn't see it, he whipped around, losing his footing and tumbling backwards. He was sure it was going to hurt; he'd seen enough videos online of people falling off treadmills to know that it looked funny but hurt like a bitch, but nothing happened. He fell against a person, not the wall.
"Shit Stiles, are you okay?" Derek helped him slump against the wall as he moved to turn off the treadmill. He got the water bottle that was on the tray and handed it to Stiles.
He took a deep gulp before pouring it on his head. He stayed hunched over, feeling the water slip between the grip on the blindfold and get into his eyes. He reached under it and wiped the water off before returning it.
"Yeah, I was just..." He motioned to the treadmill in front of him. It was obvious what he was doing.
"You're an idiot. At least you did it here and not outside. Come on, let's get you upstairs."
He helped Stiles up the stairs, even though Stiles really didn't need the help, and then sat him on the couch. He yanked his shirt off, careful not to pull on his blindfold, and threw it on the floor. His dad would bitch about it getting the couch wet but the floor was fair game.
Derek handed him a new bottle of water and Stiles drank half of that. He didn't understand why he was so worked up. He always got lost in his runs but this had been different. He was completely blank but there'd been something, something under the surface that he was thinking about. He just couldn't remember...
"Are you listening to me Stiles?" Stiles jerked back to reality, tilting his head up even though he knew he couldn't see Derek.
"Sorry Derek. Just lost I guess." Derek sat down beside Stiles, putting his hand on his shoulder and squeezing it lightly.
"What's going on? Do you need to... talk?" Stiles wanted to laugh, because here was Derek Hale offering to talk to him about his issues. It was surreal.
"Have you ever realized something, something that you were pretty sure you already knew, but it's just the fact that you realized it that it changed things?" He wasn't making any sense, he knew that, but he had to say something.
Derek removed his hand and shifted on the couch a bit. Stiles wished he could take the blindfold off, except he wasn't sure he'd like what he saw.
"Yes, I have." Stiles slumped a bit on the couch at that.
"Does it get easier?" Derek laughed a little, patting Stiles on the forearm as he stood up.
"No, it doesn't."
With that Derek left, leaving Stiles slumped on the couch, water bottle in his hands and shirt on the ground, alone with the fact that Stiles just realized he was in love with Derek Hale.
----------
He was all stretched and as prepared as he would be. He had five minutes before they called his number for the run, so he pulled off his blindfold and handed it to a teammate. His eyes adjusted to the light and he winced, knowing it was now or never. He got into position, casting a glance up to the bleachers. There at the top was where his family sat. The sheriff sat with Melissa McCall, surrounded by the pack. It had become a tradition to make it to as many events as they could, and since Melissa was basically an honorary Stilinski with as often as she'd put up with Stiles, she came to watch him run.
Up at the top, behind everyone else, sat Derek, looking lazy and bored unless you knew him. He was very attuned to what was going on. He didn't come to many of the meets, even less of the lacrosse games, but he was always aware of the times or scores.
Stiles got into position and waited for the gun. He was poised to go, his mind zeroing down to exactly what he needed to do. It'd been like this since he started running. He could focus just on this, but it only lasted for the length of the race. Afterwards his mind would be everywhere.
The gun sounded and they were off. Stiles kept himself at a good distance with the rest of the people in the front; aware of which ones he needed to keep an eye on and which ones would burn out before they got halfway done. He watched the scenery pass as they went, focused on the feeling of the air rushing past him, stinging his eyes as he moved.
At a certain point he turned his attention to the finish line. He kept going, kept pushing, and when they were getting close enough, he put on just enough of a burst of speed that he came out in front of everyone else by two lengths.
His arms were up and his teammates were cheering the moment he broke the line. They all applauded, clapping their hands on his back and shaking his hand. He looked up to the bleachers, watched his friends jumping up and down in happiness for him.
His eyes strayed to the top of the bleachers and was even more grateful for the lack of the blindfold. With it, he would not have been graced with the sight of Derek looking down on him with a look of pure pride.
-----------
The pack meeting had been postponed because Derek had something he had to do. Stiles knew that Derek did random things around town to make a living, but for the first time, Stiles wondered if there was someone out there that took up some of Derek's time. His weekends, his nights.
Saturday night, chest heaving, Stiles limped to the bathroom to wash off whatever proof of what just transpired. He'd gotten lost in a dream, with Derek smiling down on him, looking happy and proud, and then he was kissing him and his mouth was everywhere and...
When he woke up, his hand had been in his pajama bottoms and he just didn't have the strength to resist.
Thankfully the blindfold came off in the morning. He was seriously going to have to think about what it meant for his kinks if he kind of got off on not being able to see.
------------
When his alarm went off, Stiles tore off his blindfold and lay in bed staring at the ceiling until his eyes adjusted. Then he changed and went on a run, aiming towards the woods so that he wouldn't be tempted to go by Derek's apartment.
His eyes soaked in the sights he'd missed sorely, the trees and the creek he always ran by, the way the light tried to break through the thick leaves above him. He moved slow, just wanting a work out and not trying to exhaust himself this early.
He figured if he ran, maybe he'd forget what happened that night. Maybe he'd forget the look on Derek's face when he'd won the race. He'd forget his little realization.
He didn't forget any of it. He just ran and ran until the memories were imprinted into him. He was so screwed.
Back at the house, he showered and got downstairs before his dad even woke up. He started breakfast, focusing on the task at hand until his dad woke up. He joined him downstairs, laughing as he poured a cup of coffee and sitting at the table.
"This assignment has been good for you. It's not like you to make me breakfast on my day off." Stiles shrugged, putting the plate down and then going back to get his own.
"Figured I should do something nice for you. You're going to have to live a week without my beautiful voice." His dad laughed again, not bothering to say anything about that one.
It was probably going to be the easiest, not to talk. Yeah, he always had something to say, but refraining from talking was a lot easier than not being able to hear and not being able to see.
He hoped at least. After breakfast, he left his dad to do the dishes and went back into his room, checking his email. Once again there were two in there.
The first was welcoming them back to the world of the seeing, telling them what to do for their assignment. It was the same as for the hearing impairment. Write about their experience, having something as important as their sight taken away, and what it meant? How did it affect their lives? How did they teach themselves to cope, if they were able to? Did they use their grace periods, and if so, on what? What did it mean to them when they were able to take off the blindfold for good?
He spent three hours on the paper again, detailing everything that went on, how everything affected him. His grace period being his race, how it felt to only see for a few minutes and then be forced back into darkness.
Once he emailed it, he opened the next email.
Dear So Psy students,
Welcome back to the land of sight. I'm happy to be back myself, now I don't have to have my wife dress me. I know it was a hard week for some of you and I am very proud of each and every one of you for making it this far. One week of impairments left.
This week is speech. Being mute means no speaking. The only instrument I can suggest would be duct tape. You can remove it to eat and to sleep, but other than that, keep your mouths closed. As well, you can use your grace periods, but instead of ten minutes, I give you ten words for each grace period.
Remember students, you signed the honor code. While I may never know if you cheat or not, you will know. I hope you have enough respect for yourself to follow these rules.
Also, please bring your white canes to class on Tuesday. Good luck on your silent week.
Signed,
R. Canton
Stiles laughed at the image they were going to make. An entire class with duct tape over their mouths. It was going to be amazing.
He went into the kitchen and fished out the duct tape. It was silver, normal, so he drew on it before slapping it over his mouth to test. It felt a little odd and pulled a bit, but he could handle it. He pulled it off and then ran upstairs, grabbing his wallet and keys.
He was going to go to the store and check out their decorative duct tape. If he was going to be silent, he was going to do it with style.
------------
Stiles had grabbed a bunch of different duct tapes. For Monday, he picked the one with guitars and drum kits on it. He wore it on his run, grimacing at the feel of the sweat slipping between the adhesive and his skin. He wiped his mouth when he took his shower, eating a light breakfast before reapplying his duct tape.
He stepped onto the porch, half expecting to see Derek parked there, but he was only mute now. He didn't need someone to drive him anywhere. He got into his jeep, starting it and heading off to school.
He could spot the others in his class from the various duct tapes that were used. He waved to them, camaraderie in not being able to speak. He had the notepad that Derek had given him tucked into his pocket. Whenever he was needed to speak, he pulled it out. It felt odd, being silent, but he could handle it.
The rest of the day went quite well. He didn't talk, write down anything he needed to, and simply dealt with everything else. Mindy wouldn't even look at him during class, which had kind of sucked, but he wasn't going to feel bad. It wasn't his fault that Derek... existed.
Scott had run into him after his classes for the day and asked if he wanted to grab a bite to eat with him and Allison. He smiled, distorted by the duct tape, and nodded. They drove off campus to the diner they sometimes frequented.
Stiles un-taped his mouth to eat, ordering by pointing and having to write an apology to the waitress. She smiled and waved him off, saying she remembered the same thing from the year before.
They ate, with Stiles talking through notes. Allison was intrigued now, wanted to know everything about the past two weeks, but he didn't have enough time or enough paper to explain it. He did his best though.
Scott was a little less intrigued.
"It still sounds really stupid. No offense, it just... It doesn't seem like it matters at all in the long term. I mean, what does it matter to psychology?" Stiles grabbed the notebook back from where Allison had been reading, flipped to a new page, and wrote quickly.
'I've learned more about my own psychology than anyone could ever understand.'
He tore it off and then wrote a quick apology to Allison on the next sheet. He handed that to her and then the other page to Scott, standing up and taking the to-go box he’d gotten after he paid.
He wouldn't have been so mad at Scott if it wasn't just because of everything else. It was important to Stiles. How many people could say they realized they were in love with someone when they were blind?
It was a big deal and Scott belittled it because he didn't understand it. That was his own fault, but he didn't need to degrade it to someone that obviously appreciated it.
Maybe he made a fool of himself, but he could handle that. He just couldn't handle being in there anymore.
------------
Tuesday and Wednesday went about the same. He spent a lot of time texting his friends, even Scott who apologized and to whom Stiles apologized for snapping. Jackson made a few comments about not having to hear Stiles' voice anymore, but it'd been almost fond.
At least Stiles called it fond. Lydia called it bored.
He made a few abortive attempts at text conversations with Derek, but he didn't seem to be able to get the words to make a sentence. He wanted to ask how he was now that he didn't see him every day, but he didn't know how to do it without seeming... in love.
It was getting harder and harder to ignore that little bit of information.
Friday night was the full moon, so the humans spent the night together at Stiles' house while the werewolves stayed with Derek. They had an abandoned warehouse that they sometimes went to burn some excess energy, but whether or not they'd be there that night was a mystery. They did whatever they wanted to and never bothered to explain it to anyone else.
The girls slept in Stiles' bed while he and Danny usually slept on the couches in the living room. His dad was working the night shift so Stiles had forced Danny to sleep in there.
The couch wasn't comfortable but he was used to it. He did a lot of shifting until he could get his body in a line on the cushions. He had taken off the duct tape after everyone else had gone to sleep, but he was far from it himself.
He was having a lot of issues sleeping these days. He'd wake up with his hand down his pants and biting his lip so that he wouldn't actually say Derek's name.
At least in a turned on sleep, he still knew that he was supposed to be mute.
Starting to drift, he barely missed his phone lighting up on the table beside him. He grabbed it, turning it over until he could make out the name on the call. He frowned. Derek was calling him?
He answered, not even grunting to let him know he was there. He was taking the mute thing to serious extremes. Derek must have known because he sighed.
"Stiles. I've been trying to tell you this for weeks but you're not as perceptive as you seem to think."
That made Stiles sit up, fast enough that he got a bit of a head rush. He wanted to ask what Derek wanted to say, because he stopped at that and hadn't said anything afterwards, but he kept quiet.
"I love you." Stiles could feel his heart thudding in his chest. He half wondered if Derek could hear it over the phone. He wanted to ask, couldn't understand why Derek was telling him this now of any time, but...
"I had to tell you. I didn't want to keep it to myself any more. And I knew you couldn't speak so I took advantage of that."
Stiles wanted to laugh, wanted to scream, wanted to crawl through the phone lines and make Derek lose the roughness in his voice. He sounded desperate, sounded torn and tense and everything else that Stiles always associated with Derek just because of how shitty his life had been.
The mere thought that Stiles had made him feel that way...
"Don't text me, don't say anything, don't even think. I just wanted to say it. We'll talk when you have your voice back."
Stiles bit his lip as the phone beeped when Derek hung up. He wanted to text him and tell him it was mutual. God, how long had Derek been holding on to this that he finally snapped?
The thought made Stiles' stomach tighten. He just had to make it to Sunday morning. That's all. He could do it.
-------------
The Saturday pack meeting went about the way it always did. Lots of helpful tips from Derek, lots of grumblings from Scott, lots of wise ass remarks from Lydia. Stiles sat silent in the corner, the silver duct tape on his mouth making sure that anything he wanted to say would stay inside.
The group meandered after the actual meeting, turning on the television and flicking around for something to watch. Derek had done a good job of not looking at Stiles the entire night. If anyone noticed, no one said anything.
During the movie, Stiles got up and moved into the kitchen to get something to drink. He'd been on edge since he'd gotten into his jeep to drive over. He knew he was trying to last until Sunday morning, but he wasn't sure he could. If he kept the duct tape on, maybe he would.
"There are sodas in the cooler." Stiles looked up, trying not to show that he'd been snuck up on, but the smirk Derek gave him said that he hadn't succeeded.
Stiles moved over to the cooler, lifting the lid and pulled out a drink. He gestured to the cooler but Derek shook his head. Despite his nonchalant attitude, Stiles could see the lines around his mouth and between his eyes that said he was holding something back.
Stiles hadn't acted one way or other. But now, alone except for the pack just in the other room, Stiles really wanted to show Derek just how okay he was with it, but he didn't know if that'd be appreciated with the pack just right there.
"So you're done with the assignment tomorrow morning?" Stiles nodded, running his fingers over the tape, almost fondly.
Derek took a few steps closer, blocking Stiles' exit. Not that Stiles wanted to go anywhere.
"And then you'll be free to talk again." It wasn't a question, but Stiles nodded anyways. Derek took a few more steps closer until he was almost touching Stiles. Not quite, but damn close enough.
He raised his hand, tracing his fingers over the tape over Stiles' lips.
"Am I allowed to say that I missed your voice?" He'd dropped his voice low, to a point that Stiles almost missed it. He remembered telling Derek that he missed his voice when he'd taken his ear plugs out. Hearing Derek say it though...
"That. That right there was how I knew. It only happens sometimes, but it's there." Stiles couldn't help the noise he made, confused.
"Your heart rate spikes when I get close to you."
If the tape wasn't in the way, Stiles would lick his lips, except that his mouth was dry and he wasn't sure he was actually breathing, but he waited, eyes locked on Derek's as he waited for something, for anything.
Derek bent down, pressing his lips against the tape that covered Stiles' mouth. He left them pressed there for a second and Stiles tried not to whine at the lack of contact.
"Shh. Soon." And then he was gone, Stiles' soda in his hand. He pressed against the counter, blinking into the space that Derek had vacated. He hadn't even seen him leave. He was there, he was gone.
Shit. He grabbed a soda from the cooler and then pressed some of the ice against his chest and neck. That was interesting.
-----------
Sunday morning Stiles stretched, yawning loudly and then moving over to the bathroom. After he relieved himself, he was struck with the fact that he could talk. He could talk and yell ad laugh and swear and... kiss. That hadn't been a restriction of being mute, but the duct tape made it difficult.
Instead, he changed his clothes and went for a run. He could have aimed towards Derek's, since he was able to tell Derek he loved him too, but instead he headed off towards the woods. His feet crunched on the leaves and twigs, throwing pebbles out from underneath him, but he kept moving.
He ran until he couldn't run anymore, slumping against a tree as he did so. He was further than he'd ever been before on one wind. He was past the Hale house, which was saying something. He breathed in deep, counting to ten and then twenty and then thirty before standing up and heading home at a slower pace.
He got home, sweat dripping from his forehead as he climbed the stairs and went straight into the shower. Once clean, he dressed and ran down the stairs, smiling at his dad.
"Long run this morning." Stiles shrugged, plopping into a chair while his dad dished out breakfast.
"Had a lot on my mind." It was the first sentence he'd said since he'd been able to speak. His dad frowned and dropped into his own chair.
"Pretty heavy for a Sunday morning son. Everything okay?" Stiles poked at his food, hungry but at the same time afraid to eat.
"Dad, I'm gay." His dad blinked at the statement but didn't say anything. Stiles took a deep breath before continuing.
"I've been pretty sure for a while, but I am. I'm gay and I know you'll say I'm too young, but I love someone. And if everything goes how I think it will, he's going to become a very big part of my life. I want your approval on everything, you know that."
After a moment of silence, his dad stood up and poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Really heavy for a Sunday morning. Okay. I'm completely okay with your orientation, Stiles, you should know that. You're my son, I don't care. As for that other part. I was in love with your mother at your age, so I'll accept that. Who is the lucky young man?"
Stiles gave it a moment, trying to figure out how this was going to go.
"Derek Hale."
Stiles' dad gave him a look before glancing down at his coffee cup. He stared at it for a second before shaking his head.
"I'm not a fan of whisky and coffee, but I'm thinking of making an exception."
------------
It didn't take much to convince his dad that Derek was a good guy. His dad had shaken his head, told Stiles that he trusted him but that he wanted to talk to the young man before anything else happened.
He knew that Stiles and a few of his classmates were friends with Derek, obviously. It was the love part that threw him. But he was okay with it, thankfully, because Stiles didn't want there to be any issues between them.
He walked over to Derek's apartment, fiddling with his jacket as he knocked on the door and waited. He knew where this was going to go, he knew and he wanted to get it there as soon as he could.
The door opened to reveal Derek in lounge clothes. He smiled at Stiles before opening the door wider and letting him in.
"I was half expecting you this morning." Stiles laughed as he moved to the couch, sitting down with a huff.
"Figured I should take care of a few things beforehand." That sounded... dirty. And if the look that Derek gave him was any indication, he agreed.
"Not like... nevermind." Derek laughed as he sat down on the couch, just a little bit away from Stiles. It was the same distance he always sat.
Stiles was starting to wonder if he really was bad at the perception thing.
"So everything taken care of?" Stiles eyed Derek as he asked that and then shook his head.
"Two more things." Derek raised an eyebrow, about to ask what Stiles meant by that, but Stiles cut him off.
He leaned forward, slow enough that Derek could move if he wanted to, and pressed his lips to Derek's. The clacked teeth and Stiles bit Derek's lip a little too hard, but it was a great first kiss.
Their second and third kisses were pretty amazing too.
Somewhere between the third and sixth kisses, Stiles remembered that there was one more thing he had to take care of, but he couldn't tear himself away. When he finally did, it earned him a groan from Derek that almost made him change his mind.
"I said two things. That was one." Derek nodded, leaning so that he could mouth at Stiles' neck. He should be a little worried about the werewolf having his teeth that close to his neck, but Stiles trusted Derek.
"What is two?" Stiles pulled back, earning another groan from Derek, but the other man waited patiently for Stiles to speak.
"Two is this. I love you too."
Derek stared at him, eyes moving all over his face as if he expected him to be lying, before he pulled him back in for another kiss.
"Finally."
------------
I attached this to my final paper for this assignment because it's not something I wanted to be graded on. When we talked that day, about how this is a personal experiment to see if we could survive in shark infested waters.
The water is the world and the sharks are people. I realized that after I said it. I hadn't meant to be that dead on, but I guess I was.
You wanted us to see how we adapt to changes. You thought you'd change a few things, take away our hearing or sight or ability to speak, but you didn't take away our minds. I'm not sure about everyone else, but my mind did a lot of thinking and growing these past three weeks. It saw things in different ways, heard things in different ways, stated things in different ways.
This might have just been a simple experiment, something others won't remember years from now, but I'm carrying this with me for the rest of my life. I discovered parts of myself that I'd never have known about if it wasn't for this.
So thank you, professor Canton, for putting this assignment on us. It might have been strange, might have been difficult, it might have been damn near impossible at times, but it might have also been the best thing to happen to me. Finally.