Derek and Stiles

Countdown: Chapter 1

Silence fell on the room like an avalanche of ice. Derek's face, usually stern and unapproachable, twisted in pain. Then, emptiness. A scared, naive expression that didn't suit him at all. He looked at Scott and Stiles as if they were strangers.

"Who are you?" he whispered, his voice changing, becoming higher, more adolescent.

Last night, they battled a mysterious alchemist whose experiments with the space-time continuum went horribly wrong. The result was that Derek Hale, a werewolf with a tragic past, was once again sixteen years old, with only fragmentary memories of his adult life.

Stiles, always sarcastic and quick-witted, was speechless. Scott, the alpha of the pack, looked like he'd just been struck by lightning.

"Derek... it's... it's complicated," Scott stuttered, trying to somehow explain the situation.

Derek frowned. "I'm Derek? I remember my name… and… the house… and that something happened to my family… But the rest… is like a dream."

Taking advantage of the moment of confusion, Stiles nudged Scott. "Okay, plan? We have a plan, right? Because I have no idea what to do with teenage Derek with amnesia."

Scott sighed. "Here's the plan: We protect him. We figure out what that alchemist did and put everything back the way it was. And, Stiles, no 'Hale baby' jokes!"

For the next few days, life in Beacon Hills became a chaotic farce. Derek, a teenager again, was vulnerable. His strength was weakened, his self-control was minimal. But he was also open to new things. He watched Scott and Stiles with genuine interest, their friendship, their loyalty. He saw things he hadn’t seen in his adult life—warmth and support that he had pushed away for years.

One night, sitting in Stiles' room, surrounded by comics and scattered things, Derek asked, "Are you... are you my friends?"

Stiles and Scott exchanged glances.

"Yes, Derek," Scott replied.