#avssweather | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

giveemhales · 4 years ago

Text

Moodboards for Sterek AUs: 10/?

For @averystereksummer Day 6

AU where Stiles has a fear of storms

For the prompt: “How’s the weather?”

With a ficlet! Content warning for anxiety and panic attacks.

Stiles was afraid of storms.

Maybe that’s putting it wrong, because there’s a lot of things Stiles was afraid of that he could deal with. Really, he had a fear of storms, “astraphobia.” He hated it.

He wished he could say there was a reason. That his mother died on a stormy night or that the thunder reminds him of gun shots.

But there was no rhyme or reason. It was nothing more than a phobia, an anxiety disorder, an evolutionary flaw.

He’s always been good at hiding it, though. When he was younger, he hid it because he was made fun enough as is, he didn’t want to give any other material for his bullies to work with. Not even Scott ever figured it out. He could usually handle rain, but when there was thunder, he’d always make an excuses to go home, whether he was at school or on a sleepover. He’d usually say he was sick, and his mother was understanding enough that she’d be willing to take him home. She would build them a blanket fort and put on way too loud cartoons to help drown out the noise. Sometimes she would hold him closely, and remind him the thunder couldn’t hurt him, and that she would always protect him.

Then his mother died, and his fear got worse. It wasn’t just that storms were harder to handle without his mother, it was also the way his mental health had deteriorated after her death. His anxiety was significantly worse, and things that once scared him would now trigger full blown panic attacks.

His father got him a therapist to help him, but the therapist was mostly focused on his grief and how to handle his panic attacks. He had coping mechanisms now, but he still tried to avoid being out when there was a storm at all cost. Avoidance wasn’t necessarily healthy, but it was what worked for him. He continued to claim illness, and would curl up under the covers, blasting music through his earbuds.

He had even managed to hide this fear from the pack, which he’d say was pretty impressive considering most of the members could quite literally smell fear.

He religiously checked the weather every day, using multiple sources for the daily and weekly forecasts. If there was a forecast for a thunderstorm at any point, he’d make up plans (which was difficult when dealing with people who can hear when you’re lying, but he had perfected the art of half truths, always using something like “having homework” or “wanting to see his dad,” which were all technically true). So far, he’d only been outside in a thunder storm with the pack once, and they were fighting wendigos so they didn’t really question his scent of fear or him running off to his Jeep as soon as the creatures were declared dead. That was one of the few times in his life he had been unable to avoid being outside during a thunderstorm, and the resulting panic attack had been so bad he hadn’t been able to go to the school the next day (which was easy enough to get away with, since the rain had also resulted in a cold).

He’s not really sure why he spends so much time and energy hiding this fear like it’s a dirty secret. Maybe part of it was that he knew he couldn’t avoid thunderstorms, but he could try to avoid being around people during thunderstorms. It gave him something to focus on, a feeling of control.

Honestly though, he knew it was mostly his own insecurities. He was at a good place with the pack, and he doesn’t really think any of them would be malicious if they were to find out. But he knew that he was just human, that he was weaker than the rest of them, and he strived everyday to prove he could keep up. He couldn’t show any weaknesses because he couldn’t let them know he was weak.

So he had basically perfected the art of keeping his phobia hidden away from the rest of the world.

But one of the worst things about storms was that you don’t always know when they’re coming. And that’s what led to his current predicament.

He was in the car with Derek after they had met with a pack outside of town. The pack was new to the area and hoping to make an alliance. With Derek the alpha and Stiles the emissary, it was customary for the two of them to make negotiations.

The meeting had been fine. A simple agreement had been made and then Derek and Stiles made the hour long drive back to Beacon Hills, specifically to Derek’s loft where Stiles’ Jeep was waiting.

Derek had insisted that they drive together, and had refused to go in Stiles’ “death trap” (more like because he was a dick), so Stiles was now seated in the passenger side of the camaro. And that was fine, Stiles honestly enjoyed spending time with Derek. But it was about half an hour outside of Beacon Hills that he noticed the grey clouds.

Stiles had checked multiple weather sources that morning like he always did, and none of them had mentioned a chance of storms. A couple had mentioned a chance of rain that night, but it was still afternoon. There was no reason to expect a risk of storms.

But Stiles had obsessively studied storms enough to know what storm clouds looked like. And right now there were definitely storm clouds in the direction of Beacon Hills.

Fuck.

“How’s the weather? I mean, do you know? I feel like with your special werewolf senses you should be able to tell. You know, smell when a storm is coming. That would actually be pretty cool, it would make you a great meteorologist. Although meteorologists aren’t as bad as people make them seem. They actually have a 90% accuracy five days in advance. And on the actual day are usually within 2.5 degrees in their predictions. That’s pretty impressive. But obviously they don’t always get it right. Clearly, since they hadn’t said there would be rain today and-“

“Stiles!” Derek barked, cutting him off. “No, I can’t “sense” the weather. But from those clouds over there I’d say it’s probably going to rain.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. Looks like it. That’s cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.”

Derek side-eyed him, but at this point he was used to Derek’s seemingly constant annoyance with him.

His leg began bouncing, as it usually did when he was nervous. Derek was clearly annoyed, but fortunately didn’t say anything.

A couple minutes later, the drizzle began, and Derek turned on the windshield wiper. Stiles looked down at his phone which had the directions. Still 20 minutes to go. He desperately hoped that they would get back before any thunder started, but it seemed unlikely.

Stiles leaned over and began fiddling with the radio. He eventually found a station playing heavy metal, and turned it up as loud as it would go, hoping it would be enough should there be any thunder.

Derek cursed and immediately shut off the radio. “What the fuck is your problem, did you forget about the werewolf hearing?” He grumbled, pawing at his ears with one hand still on the wheel.

“Just wanted some music, you’re so quiet, you know. Thought we could liven things up.”

Derek just growled in reply, which was pretty par for the course for him, so Stiles didn’t bother saying anything else.

Pretty soon, the rain started getting heavier, pouring down loudly on the windshield. Derek increased the speed of the windshield wiper, but seemed unbothered.

Stiles opened his mouth before closing it again. He honestly wanted to just explain to Derek why he was being so weird. Derek wasn’t the type to judge, and would probably even do what he could to be accommodating.

But at the same time, he couldn’t think of worse person to find out about his fear. Besides the fact that Derek was one of the strongest, bravest people he had ever met, Stiles had also been pining after him for years. He knew Derek had seen him as the hyperactive, token human, and even if Stiles now had a spark and Derek had accepted him as the pack’s emissary, Stiles didn’t want to risk revealing anything that might ruin their progress. He knew Derek would never feel the same about him as he did, and he was okay with that, but he was absolutely not okay with Derek ever viewing him as lesser. He wouldn’t, couldn’t be seen as weak.

So Stiles kept his mouth shut, and tried to just focus on anything other than the impending storm.

That worked out until the thunder came.

The first roll of thunder hit when they were about 10 minutes from the loft, and Stiles’ composure began to crumble.

He felt his heart beat quicken, his palms sweat, his breath become raggedy and stomach begin to cramp. These were standard symptoms for his anxiety, but not something he ever truly got used to.

He tried to focus on his breathing, but was interrupted by Derek.

“What’s wrong? Your heart is pounding and your breathing sounds weird,” Derek said, the concern clear in his voice. Stiles supposed that after all the terrifying shit he had been through, it would make sense that Derek wouldn’t make the connection between his fear and the thunder.

Stiles clenched his fists and closed his eyes, trying to block everything out. “Nothing. I’m fine, dude,” he ground out.

He could practically hear Derek rolling his eyes, but for once he ignored the “dude” comment. “You’re clearly not fine, I can smell the anxiety rolling off you. If you’re in danger or if something’s wrong, I need to know.”

“I said I’m fine. Just drop it,” Stiles knew Derek would be able to hear the lie, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was focusing too much energy on trying to calm down to come up with a plausible lie for why he was acting the way he was.

“Please, Stiles, I just want to help you,” Derek’s voice was softer than Stiles had ever heard, and he hated the way it made his eyes tear up. He turned and rested his forehead on the window, trying to focus on the cool feeling.

Stiles was surprised Derek didn’t pry further, but instead grabbed his hand.

Stiles thought about the fact that his palms were sweaty and probably pretty gross, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. It wasn’t even because he had been dreaming of holding Derek’s hand for years. It was because it helped ground him.

He tried to focus on touch so he could block out the flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder. He tried to think about the warmth of Derek’s hand, and his mother’s voice when she reminded him the storms couldn’t hurt him. He counted his breaths, and reminded himself they were only a few minutes away. And as soon as they were back, he could get in his Jeep, blast his music, and try to ignore the outside world.

They arrived to the loft, and Stiles vaulted out of the Camaro before it was even in park (although a small part of him was reluctant to let go of Derek’s hand).

He ran as fast as he could to the Jeep to try to avoid the worst of the storm. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to make it to the Jeep before he was being grabbed by Derek (honestly, fuck werewolf speed, that’s just not fair).

“Stiles, I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I can’t just let you leave if you’re in danger!”

One of the symptoms of anxiety that is less talked about is that heightened anxiety makes a person prone to emotional outbreaks. Maybe that’s why he lost it at that moment. Or maybe it had been building up for years, the anger and shame and fear finally boiling over. Or maybe he just wanted somebody to know, because he was so tired of being alone.

Whatever the reason was, Stiles finally let it all out.

“Oh my god, I’m not in danger. Nothing is going to happen to me and I logically know that but I can’t help it. I’m terrified of storms. Is that what you wanted me to say?” Stiles was yelling, even though he was sure Derek could hear him perfectly well, but he couldn’t stop. “I’m terrified of how loud the thunder is, how I can barely hear myself think over the noise. I’m terrified of lightning even though the likelihood of being struck is one in a million. I’m terrified that I can’t always prepare for storms and that I have no way to control the weather. And I know it’s a fucking stupid fear. And that’s why I’ve tried so hard to hide it. But I feel like I can’t breathe. And you probably don’t know what that’s like, you probably don’t have stupid fears and constant anxiety because you’re the bravest person I know. But you know now so please just drop it.”

Stiles was panting by the end of his rant. He wanted to turn around, to go to his car, just like he said he wanted, but the masochist in him needed to see how Derek was going to react.

“Do you really think I’ll judge you for that? You think I don’t feel afraid? I’m scared every day. I’m afraid I’m going to fail as an alpha. I’m afraid I’m going to lose everything again. Hell, I’m afraid every second I’m around you.”

“What? Why would you be afraid around me?” Stiles asked incredulously, fairly certain Derek was just making it up to make him feel better.

“Because I’m afraid I’m finally going to break and kiss you.”

Stiles isn’t sure what Derek saw in Stiles’ slack-jawed expression, but evidently it was an invitation, because the next thing Stiles knew, there were lips on his own.

Derek’s were wet from the rain, but still warm. The kiss was soft and tender, and everything Stiles had ever wanted.

Unfortunately, it was still storming, and Stiles jumped back just a moment later when there was a roar of thunder and crack of lightning.

Derek looked stricken, clearly drawing the wrong conclusion.

Stiles was quick to correct him. “As amazing as that kiss was, I can’t- I need to be alone right now.”

Derek looked relieved, and reached out to Stiles. “Do you- You’re welcome in the loft if you’d prefer.”

Stiles usually preferred to be alone during storms so no one could see his vulnerability, but the Jeep was also usually his last resort. The loft would be much quieter, so he nodded and took Derek’s hand.

Up in the loft, Derek grabbed Stiles a towel to dry himself since he was dripping everywhere. After he dried off, he went ahead and wrapped himself in a blanket and curled up on the couch. “Do you mind if I turn on the TV? Noise helps.” He was still shaking, but felt himself calming down. Hopefully if he put on the TV, he could try to forget about the storm.

Derek nodded and then paused. “I can leave if you’d like but if it would help... Would you mind if I just held you?”

After years of keeping his fears private, Stiles’ instinct was to ask him to leave. But he remembered how he would feel when his mom would hold him during storms. He remembered how his fears had quietened when Derek had kissed him. He remembered all the reasons he fell in love with Derek, and how safe he made him feel.

He nodded.

186 notes · View notes