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“Guys you really didn’t have too,” Derek mumbled as he looked down at the cake that had been set upon the table in front of him. It had thirty six candles on it, for a bunch of firefighters they sure didn’t know a fire hazard when they saw one.
It was his birthday and he was on shift. Derek was tired and looking forward to going home to his bed. He knew Laura wanted to go out for a drink, had travelled to the city just so they could go out tonight, but it would have to wait. He had three hours left of a seventy two hour shift and he’d be damned if he wasn’t collapsing onto his mattress and sleeping for a day as soon as he arrived home.
“’Course we did,” Boyd told him, “It’s not every day we can find a decent excuse to spend that much money on cake.”
“S’pose not,” Derek grunted, “Someone get me a knife.”
Erica held one out to him before pulling it back. “You need to blow the candles out and make a wish first,” she informed him.
“Fine,” he sighed. He hadn’t done that since he was eleven, but why not?
Taking a huge breath in, Derek let it out over the little flames. He was quite pleased with himself when the last one flickered out.
“Make a wish, make a wish,” Erica prompted, jumping up and down slightly.
I wish, Derek thought, letting his eyes fall closed. I wish…to meet someone who’ll matter.
A bit vague maybe but thinking about the specifics of why he was thirty six and not in a serious relationship really weren’t worth dwelling on. Although according to his last boyfriend he was simultaneously too needy and too distant, Derek wasn’t even sure how that was a thing.
“What’d you wish for?” Isaac asked from the other side of the table.
“I’m not going to tell you,” Derek sneered.
“Yeah, if he did then it wouldn’t come true,” Erica agreed, handing the knife over.
-oOo-
He’d just finished another gruelling seventy-two hour shift; the icy conditions meaning his comany were completing way too many extrications for anyone’s liking. When Derek stepped into the twenty-four hour grocery store he’d spotted on his way home, snow was just starting to fall outside, the flakes illuminated by the street lights.
He’d wanted to go straight home but knew he needed milk and no milk that meant no morning coffee. So, exhausted, he trudged towards the refrigerated section at the back of the store. People gave him odd looks as he passed, probably at his appearance, but he was so tired he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Shuffling back up the cereal aisle, milk in hand, a crash sounded in front of him and Fruit Loops appeared everywhere. Derek looked up off of the floor to see who had caused the mess, too tired to feel really startled, when a body was crashing into him, the force of it making him take a step back.
The man, whoever it was, hugged Derek’s body bone crushingly tight. He stood there, tense, too stunned to even throw the man off of him and demand to know what he was doing.
Eventually, after at least a good minute, the man took a step back and Derek was about to give him a piece of his mind when the look on the mystery man’s face brought him up short. The guy had to be in his early thirties, the creases around his eyes scrunched up as his lips tried to pull into a grin, but the corners kept wavering down. And his eyes, such striking honey coloured eyes, were wet with tears of joy.
“Sorry,” the man said, his voice weak. “I just…” He trailed off and looked Derek up and down. “I knew it was you. You look older, of course you would but I knew it was you.”
Perplexed, Derek frowned. “Do I know you?”
“You don’t remember,” the guy said, but he didn’t seem disappointed with the realization. Derek thought back, trying to picture all of the one-night stands he’d had but left before they’d woken up, and even a few of the people he’d saved recently, but no one came to mind who would match the man standing in front of him.
“Of course you don’t remember,” he continued, Derek’s silence appearing not to bother him. “Why would you, there was so much happening that day and-” He stopped short, tears still threatening to slide down his cheeks but he was smiling properly now, a wide grin.
It was a bizarre situation but for whatever reason Derek desperately wanted to know how this man knew him. “How…how do I know you?” he asked, taking a step forward, staring at the man intently.
The man’s grin seemed to stretch impossibly wider, his eyes earnest and wide. “On the eleventh of September, two thousand and one, you carried me out of the World Trade Centre.”
Derek’s breath huffed out of him like he’d taken a sucker punch to the gut. Completely floored he couldn’t even speak.
That day had been the worst day of Derek’s life. He’d only completed his training three months before the attack, was still fresh and green behind the ears. He remembered, to that day, the words the dispatcher told them over the intercom, Derek doubted that he’d ever forget them.
Two men from his company had died that day. He still had nightmares about it thirteen years later; despite the mandatory therapy all the firefighter’s who’d been called in received.
Yet here this man was, standing in front of Derek, smiling like a lunatic because Derek had saved his life and Derek had forgotten that. So caught up in the trauma he’d been through that day, how many people they’d lost, how many people they weren’t able to save, that he’d forgotten how many people he had saved.
“I guess-” the man began, cutting through Derek’s train of thought, “I guess I just wanted to say…thank you.” He sighed like a weight had been taken off of his shoulders, and Derek supposed there had been. There hadn’t been time for ‘thank you’s that day, as soon as they’d gotten a survivor to the EMT’s they were running back into the buildings before any words could be said.
“I’m gonna get out of here before a clerk turns up and glares at me for getting cereal all over the floor,” he said, gesturing to the contents on the ground.
Derek wanted to say something, he really did but he was just so stunned.
The man smiled at him one more time before turning and walking away. Derek stood there, staring at the place he’d been, his mind moving sluggishly. He had to do something, but what?
I wish to meet someone who’ll matter.
The memory of his birthday wish was barely through his head before he’d dropped the cartoon of milk and was running, sprinting through the store, not bothering to say sorry to the people he bumped into too. Derek pulled up short outside, looking up and down the street – almost empty thanks to the snow – for the man. Finally spotting him a few metres away, Derek hurried to follow.
“Hey!” he shouted after him. He didn’t know the guy’s name, he needed to know his name. “You…stop!”
People stopped and stared at him but just like in the store he didn’t care, those people didn’t matter. The man, only the man from that terrible day mattered now.
He stopped up ahead, turned around and Derek slid to halt a metre away from him. The guy looked at Derek almost hopefully.
“You- you never told me your name,” Derek stuttered lamely.
The guy still beamed though, like Derek had just said the best thing he’d ever heard. “It’s Stiles,” he answered, “Stiles Stilinski.”
Before he could lose his nerve, all the exhaustion he’d been feeling disappearing at the chance he’d just been given, Derek asked, “Do you want to go for a drink? Like, right now.”
“Now?” Stiles returned, looking bewildered.
“Yeah, now,” Derek nodded, making himself sound as sure as possible.
“I’d love too.” This time Stiles’ smile was soft, hesitant even. “There’s this place, just around the corner. It’s usually pretty quiet…”
“Sounds great,” he agreed quickly, almost breathlessly.
“Okay then.” Stiles looked up the street, snow falling slowly around him. It was such a perfect picture that it took Derek’s stomach’s twist. “Shall we…?” he looked back at Derek, those wonderful eyes flashing with happiness.
“Yes,” Derek replied.
He stepped forward, starting up the street, Stiles easily falling into step beside him. Their shoulders bumped as they walked through the cold January night air and Derek knew, for absolutely certain, that he’d found something here with Stiles. And whatever that something may be, it was going to matter.