Derek has a bad dream in the middle of the night. Luckily, Stiles is there to comfort him. Sterek, fluff. One-shot.
Derek's POV.
"Where is he?" I yelled as I entered the hospital. I saw Scott sitting down in one of the waiting room chairs. He got up and ran over to me, probably to try and calm me down. He was clearly crying.
"Derek," He began weekly, "They couldn't save him. The bullet it… it tore through his heart."
"No!" I shouted. "Stiles!" I tried to run, but Scott was holding me back. There was no way he was gone. It wasn't possible. "Let me go, Scott!"
I could feel that my claws were now digging into Scotts arm. I tried to calm myself down, but I couldn't. I knew that blood was being drawn, and so did he, but he didn't move. He tried to comfort me, but it wasn't working.
There was nothing that could help me in that moment. I was crushed. He was gone. Stiles was gone.
Stiles was dead. Stiles was dead, and I wasn't there to protect him. I didn't do anything. This was my fault. His death was on me. Everything was my fault. If I was there, I could've saved him. He would still be living.
The pain was too much. I couldn't take it. I fell to the ground and let myself cry. He was dead.
I woke up with a gasp and sat upright. I was covered in sweat. It was pitch black and I couldn't see anything. I felt around by my side to see if Stiles was there, but he wasn't.
My mind immediately went to the worst case scenario, that Stiles was in danger. After the dream-or, nightmare, rather-that I just had, I wasn't very calm.
I got out of the bed and turned on the light to his room. I saw that the window was completely open. I knew something must've happened. Someone took him. Someone took Stiles. It was the only explanation as to why he wasn't still sleeping.
I immediately started to head for the window, but something stopped me. I head a door opening behind me. I froze; it was probably his dad. He had no idea I slept over almost every night. It wouldn't be good if he found out.
I turned around only to see that it wasn't Stiles' dad, but it was Stiles.
"Stiles." I breathed out, relieved.
"What's wrong? Why are you up?" He asked.
I didn't reply to him, I just ran over to him and hugged him. I was thinking about that dream so much, that I thought that it was actually becoming a reality. I felt his arms wrapped around me. I could tell he was confused, but somehow he knew that I needed to be comforted.
"Derek… You gonna let go?" Stiles asked after a minute or so of silence.
I let go of him and then gave him a kiss on the forehead. He gave me a confused look.
"I had a dream that you-" I cut myself off. I didn't want to say it. "Were killed." I said, quieter. "And then I woke up and you weren't there, and I saw the window was open. I just panicked."
"Derek," He began, "That dream wasn't real. Nothing is gonna happen to me. You wouldn't let it." He took my hand and kissed it.
"Damn straight." I replied, kissing him on the lips.
"Come on," He smiled, "Let's go back to bed." He turned the lights off and we both climbed back into his bed. Stiles rested his head on my chest. I held him tightly to me. I never wanted to let him go.
"I love you." I whispered. "So much."
"I love you, too." Stiles replied. I fell asleep a few minutes later, listening to the beat of his heart.