Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf
Derek was in the hospital hooked up to machines, bandages covering more of him than not. He was hooked up to all sorts of machines that beeped and wheezed. Stiles was sitting beside his bed, not having left for the days Derek had been in this condition. He hadn't really been paying attention except for the un-blinking stare he had, sitting back and staring at the wall across from him blankly.
REWIND
Stiles hadn't told anyone. Maybe it had been making it worse the whole time but he hated himself. He hadn't told anyone because, what would they think? The only people he would tell were his father, Scott or Derek. His father would freak out, and scramble together money for a therapist or something. Scott, he was a bit of a wild card. In Stiles' mind it played out with Scott getting mad at Stiles for not telling him sooner. Derek, Stiles really didn't know how he would react. He had been wearing long sleeves for weeks now but it was okay because it was winter. They helped cover the fresh cuts. They helped hide them while Stiles dealt with it. Death with all the hate he felt about himself. Only thing was, he was adorable, awesome even. But he hated himself at the same time. He'd laughed at it before, yes and he knew it was crazy, but it's not as if it were something he could control. Stiles flipped open his laptop and scrolled through something, he wasn't really paying attention to. He smiled and played along, put on a mask whenever he was with people but now, it was his alone time. He didn't have to pretend anymore. "Fuck this." Stiles snorted as he snuck to the bathroom and grabbed the razor blades before scurrying back into his room. Only thing was, Derek was sleeping on the roof of his house. Don't ask why, he's Derek. It wasn't the first night he'd done it but it was the first night he'd done it and smelt blood. And that particular sweetness that indicated Stiles. Derek was by the window, eyes scanning until they landed on the bloody hand of Stiles as he dug the razor into his arm. Derek struggled frantically with the window before getting it open and lunging at Stiles. Maybe not his best plan, it ended up with the razor blade in his own arm and blood all over his black tank top. Stiles blinked at him slowly, not seeming to comprehend what was happening. Derek snarled and pulled the razor blade from his arm, dropping it on Stiles's desk before dragging the boy to the bathroom by his wrist where his hand was firmly locked. Derek bandaged up Stiles's arm while his own healed before dragging him back to the bloody bedroom.
"Start talking." Derek snarled as he shoved Stiles to sit on his bed while he stood above him, arms crossed menacingly.
"Why are you in my bedroom? I mean what were you doing? Creep. Now my bedroom's a mess. It'll be such an effort to clean it. I hope nothing got on my laptop." Stiles did as he was told, avoiding what Derek wanted to talk about. Derek grabbed Stiles by his wrists and pushed him onto his back on the bed, crouching over him.
"Shut up." Derek snarled. Stiles thought of all the times he'd fantasized about this. Then made himself hate himself more because he was too sacred to actually tell Derek he liked him.
"Make up your mind. I mean really. Is that a wolf thing? Not being able to make up your mind? Or is it just a Derek thing?" Stiles continued.
"Just with you, it's a Derek thing." Derek whispered as he put his head down on Stiles' shoulder, seeming defeated.
"Hey man, you okay?" Stiles asked.
"Tell me why you hurt yourself." Derek said softly.
"The usual reasons. Self loathing and stuff." Stiles laughed casually. "Teenager stuff." He shrugged.
"Self...loathing?" Derek asked, lifting his head to look into Stiles' eyes. Stiles shrugged again and nodded. "You're joking." Derek said hopefully. Stiles raised one eyebrow.
"I'd be far too frightened." He laughed, despite knowing Derek wouldn't get his Star Wars reference.
"How can you even...Stiles you are the most..." He stopped, putting his head back down, seeming in frustrated thought. He let go and sat back. "Please Stiles. Talk to me." He said, looking at the razor where it lay on the desk, bloody full of so much hate.
"I knew you wouldn't get my Star Wars reference but I made it anyway..." Stiles tried to divert but Derek didn't even fight it or get mad. "I smile." He said sadly. "I smile and laugh through it and I never tell anyone anything." He said softly. "I talk because I know it annoys people because I figure it'll make them go away. Then no one will like me and if I were to just...go away, no one would care." He said, putting his hand on his bandaged arm. "That's what I want. I want to go away and I want no one to care." He whispered, no traces of a smile left.
"I would." Derek said after a long silence.
"Stop it." Stiles pleaded.
"I would care Stiles." Derek said again. "Please know that Stiles. You are loved. You are cared about. And it would destroy me." He said. "It would." He reaffirmed.
"Please." Stiles was crying now.
"I care Stiles. I love you. And even though you say you don't want it i know you do. Everyone wants to be loved. Even a monster like me. And i know it's horrible of me, but i want you to love me back. Love me Stiles." Derek turned to the crying boy and took his hands. Stiles was shaking his head no.
"Please stop." Stiles whimpered through his soft sobs.
"I know I'm a monster but I just want your love. I don't care about anyone else. I care about you Stiles. And if you went away I'd follow you. Anywhere." Derek said firmly.
"I've always loved you Derek but I don't want you to love me. I'll just hurt you." Stiles said as he let Derek pull him into a hug.
"Hurt me." Derek said. "Just stay with me. Let me love you." He said.
"Love me till I'm whole again?" Stiles laughed harshly, breaking from Derek's hold on him. "Everyone leaves." He said.
"I wont if you don't." Derek said. Stiles wiped his eyes before forcing a smile.
"Thanks man but I'm fine." Stiles laughed. "I am a bit tired though, so if you don't mind." He nodded to the window. Derek took a long look at Stiles, fake smile impeccable as ever and hung his head. He picked up the bloody razor on his way out and returned to his perch on the roof without another word.
FASTFORWARD
Derek was not one to give up and Stiles was not one to give in. But Stiles felt oddly more protective over the sourwolf now that he'd confessed all to him. So when rogue hunters showed up to take Derek out, he'd defended him to the point of running into the woods towards the crossbow welding killers without any hope of surviving, attempting to give Derek a chance of escape. But werewolf speed allowed Derek to charge after him, bringing him to the ground, caught like his prey between his paws. Derek's shirtless torso flattened against Stiles against the ground as arrow after arrow imbedded themselves in his soft flesh. After about 8, Derek passed out on top of Stiles who was still clutched protectively in his arms. Derek's hot blood ran down his bare back and dripped onto Stiles. And with each drop Stiles hated himself more and more. He couldn't protect Derek, he was the reason he'd gotten hurt once again. He'd asked to talk to Derek privately, that was the only reason Derek was there that night. And despite Stiles's efforts, Derek had once again, saved his bacon. But then Derek was lifting himself off him and Stiles was quick to help him struggle to his feet. Once he was up we went tearing after the hunters all teeth and claws, arrows sticking precariously out of his back. But then, as the last hunter went down, his finger shot off his arrow. It found home in Derek's head.
FASTFORWARD
(now you're caught up)
When Stiles had brought Derek into the hospital they were astonished that he'd survived. Only he wasn't waking up. They said he would, he wasn't brain-dead by some miracle, but he would be in medically induced coma for at least a week. It was day 4 of seven, Stiles hadn't moved from the chair beside the sleeping wolf. He'd slept little, having been woken by nightmares. He'd eaten a little, Derek's food was brought only because the nurses wanted Stiles to eat something. But mostly he just sat there, and stared, and hated himself more and more with each beep of the heart monitor.
FASTFORWARD
On day seven, two days before they'd expected him to wake, Derek opened his eyes. They landed on Stiles. "Would you care if I just left?" Derek asked. Stiles smiled.
"Yes." He confessed.
"Stop smiling." Derek said frowning, knowing Stiles wasn't actually happy. Stiles did as he was told.
"I'll go call the others and give them the good news." Stiles said standing. Derek's hand reached out and grabbed Stiles' wrist tightly.
"Don't leave." He said. "I...i'd care if you left." He said. Stiles nodded and sat back down.
"I'm sorry Derek." Stiles said after a long silence. "Oh god Derek, I'm so fucking sorry." Stiles was sobbing now as he put his head down on Derek's lap. Derek put his arm around Stiles and held him awkwardly. "Derek. Please. I'm sorry. I'm such a screw up. I always fuck everything up all the time. I can never do anything right. I can't do anything. I got you hurt. I always get everyone hurt. Please Derek, hate me." Stiles sobbed as he clutched the blankets covering Derek.
"Its going to be okay. I love you Stiles and it's going to be okay. I promise." Derek said softly. "If you saw yourself the way I see you..." He stopped.
"Maybe you're blind." He huffed miserably.
"Stiles." Derek said sternly. "Stop. Stop hating yourself. If you love me, then please, please love me enough to stop hurting yourself. Love me enough to stay with me here in this miserable fucking world. Love me enough to let me love you. Let me love you enough for the both of us. I need you Stiles. I need you to love me." He said. Stiles was completely broken, sobbing desperately.
"I don't know...why you love me...and I'm scared...you'll blink...and realized I'm...me and then...you'll be gone." Stiles said between shaky sobs.
"You really think that little of me Stiles?" Derek asked looking sadly at the tear-stained boy.
"I just want to be whole again. Love me till I'm whole again Derek. And then keep loving me. And love me more. And love me hard. And love me despite me. And don't hate me for demanding all this. Just love me. Forever. I'm sorry Derek." Stiles said. "Till I'm me, till I'm happy, till I can smile and mean it, till I can laugh and it'll be real. Love and then keep loving me." Stiles said.
"I'll love you all that and more." Derek allowed a whisper of a smile cross his lips. Stiles looked terrified but was already wiping the tears away.
"Promise?" He asked.
"Promise." He confirmed.