He didn't really think before he did it. He just knew that he couldn't stand by while Kali cornered Derek, a large pole as her weapon of choice. He meant to use the element of surprise to at leave shove her away, but he slipped on something and toppled against Derek, knocking him to the side, but putting himself under the oncoming pole. He felt a warmth, a wave of pain, and then adrenaline kicked in, disorienting him. He couldn't focus, he glanced to Scott who looked like the world was crumbling. Oh. That's right. The pole. He glanced down to see metal and his heart sputtered. He was dying, wasn't he?
Adrenaline couldn't hold him forever, and there was a coldness creeping up on him. No life chain of events, or shimmering light invaded his thoughts. It was like falling asleep, only colder. Was Derek okay? He blinked, but his eyes felt heavy. He tried to listen but it was all garbled noise. Eventually he stopped trying to listen, and just closed his eyes. Huh. He could hear his own heartbeat. Weird.
The alpha pack members left the loft after that, knowing when to pick their battles. Cora slipped into the shadows, unsure of how to react. Scott scrambled to be next to his friend, looking like he wanted to coddle him and couldn't stand to touch him all at the same time. Derek hadn't moved at all. He was half sprawled next to Stiles, his expression unreadable, but he smelled of the same pain as Scott. He saw the blood pooling out of Stiles and in a flash he was moving.
"Hospital." He yelled. "Now."
Sheriff Stilinski had never been a fan of hospitals. They held too many memories, good and bad. When the hospital number flashed on his phone at work, his heart dropped. The words barely registered in his mind. Accident. Stiles. He was there in minutes with sirens on full, code of ethics be damned.
"Where's my son?" His voice cracked. "Where the hell is my son?"
Scott pulled him back, talking to him. Telling him the cover story he and Derek had agreed on. There had been an accident at a junk yard, they went exploring, and Stiles tripped and fell off some industrial tires and onto a pole. Every word seemed to age the older man, and Scott caved and snuck him back to the surgery windows to show him where they were working on Stiles. The pole had been removed but it was still a gruesome sight.
They both visibly paled when the monitor line went flat.
Stiles didn't care for hospitals. The smell disturbed him, on too many levels. So walking around on wasn't his idea of fun. Not in the least. Especially when he couldn't even remember why he was there, or even getting there, considering he'd already looked for his Jeep and found nothing. His dad's cruiser was there and for a moment he worried something had happened to his dad. He jogged around the hospital, not even glanced at by the roaming nurses, searching for that familiar jacket.
"Dad?" Stiles called, seeing him at one of the stations, handing over paperwork to a nurse. "Thank God, man. I thought something was wrong. You just had some check up stuff right, no biggy? Dad?"
Sheriff Stilinski rubbed his face and turned in the opposite direction, heading for the front doors.
"Dad, what kind of joke is this? Dad, please just look at me. Please!" He followed his dad down the hallway.
"Dad! Come on! It's like you can't even-" He stopped, surprised. "You can't see me. Can you?"
His father didn't answer. He watched as he got into the cruiser and pulled out. This couldn't be right. Fathers don't just stop seeing their children. He went back to the nurses station.
"Hey lady, can you see me? Can you show me the papers my dad gave you?" Stiles asked, looking exasperated when she showed no signs of acknowledging him. "Fine. If you can't see me, then you'll have no problems with me coming around and seeing for myself."
She blinked. Nothing. He slipped around and glanced at the different piles until he caught his name, and his dad's signature. DNR papers. Do not resuscitate? Like let him die? What? No, that didn't make any sense. He wasn't dead. Or dying. He was right here. Fuck. This had to be some weird supernatural mix up. He'd just find Scott and they'd find a way to fix it all.
Scott didn't leave the hospital until Derek picked him up by the back of his neck and gently lead him to the camero and drove him home. Neither of them talked, or thought about the smell of Stiles's blood perfuming the backseat. They didn't look at each other until the car stopped outside the McCall house.
"The pack will stay together. Through this." Derek said quietly.
"Yeah." Scott murmured.
He grabbed his bag from the trunk and went inside, unable to look at his mom who had the day off.
"Did something happen?" She asked, sensing something was wrong.
"Mom." Scott's voice cracked, and she was holding him a second later.
"Hey. Hey." She said, trying to soothe him.
"St...iles" He choked. "He's dead."
Melissa McCall had seen a lot of death, and she knew when it came to werewolves it was a dangerous game to be mixed up in. And as much as Scott had matured, she knew he wasn't ready for a blow like that. His first and only best friend.
Eventually he peeled himself away from his mother and went upstairs, a headache developing. Which was weird, he wasn't supposed to get headaches. But then again, everything was hurting. He didn't want to think about all of it though, so he just focused on his headache.
"Dude. You take forever getting home. And since when do you accept rides from Derek? Did I miss something?"
Scott jumped, flying against his own fall as his eyes glowed and his claws elongated, scanning the darkness. A soft squeak replied, and he flicked his light switch. Stiles was staring at him from the right side of his bed, eyes wide in fear and surprise.
"Stiles?" Scott was torn between terror, shock, and a vague spark of hope.
"Who do you think man?" Stiles rolled his eyes. "Dude, calm yourself. You look like you're ready to maim me, and I don't exactly feel up to being maimed. Thanks."
"What the hell are you doing here?" Scott asked, dropping his backpack.
"I need you, man. You're my bro. Bros help their bros out." Stiles shrugged, like it was obvious.
"No. I mean...you're dead." Scott plucked the courage to move closer to the bed.
"Why does everyone keep saying that? If this is some elaborate ruse because I hit my head and got amnesia or something, you've got some balls Scott. And my dad in on it? How'd you manage that?"
"Stiles. I mean it. You died. I heard the monitor stop. They fought to get you stabilized, but they say you won't make it through the night." Scott dropped onto the other side of the bed.
"That doesn't make sense. I'm right here. I can't be dying. This is stupid. What happened?"
Scott flinched.
"You don't remember?"
"Yes, that's clearly why I'm asking what happened."
"You tried saving Derek. One of the alphas had a long, metal pole. She drove it right through you." Scott spat, eyes glowing again.
Stiles didn't respond right away, his face contorting as he tried to remember. It sounded familiar, but at the same time it made no sense. It just couldn't.
"I tried talking to my dad." Stiles admits. "He couldn't see me. Neither could the nurses."
"I think...I think you're a ghost."
"A ghost? Really, Scott?"
"How else do you explain being in my bedroom when I know for a fact you're plugged into a million different machines halfway across town!" Scott growled.
"Hey, hey, buddy settle down. It's okay." Stiles held up his hands in mock surrender.
"It's not. I should have protected you. Now you're dying and you smell awful, and they just keep pumping you with this weird stuff. You shouldn't have to be in a hospital. You should have never tried to go after Kali."
"She was going to hurt Derek!"
"At lease Derek knows he can heal! You're dying, Stiles. I'm losing my best friend!"
They both sit there, both unyielding. Stiles knows he's right, but he's got to try and give himself some kind of defense. Damn it.
"Then we just have to fix it ourselves." Stiles finally says.
"What?"
"Fix it. We'll find a way to fix it. There's got to be some supernatural way to fix this yeah? Why else would I still be here. If I was meant to die, then I'd have just spiraled into the afterlife or whatever. Yeah? So all we need is a plan." Stiles shrugged.
"Should we go to Derek?" Scott asks.
"Yes. But pit stop first. My house. I need my laptop and a brown leather book. I hawked it out of Peter's drawer. He hasn't seemed to notice it's missing. Or he doesn't care. Who knows." Stiles rambled. "We can take my Jeep to Derek's."
"I think your dad is going to notice the Jeep missing."
"I'll personally bring it back once I'm not dead. It'll be fine."
Scott flinched at the word 'dead' but nodded, agreeing to his plan. He didn't live far from Stiles, they could get there on foot in twenty minutes, shorter if he wolf ran.
"How did you even get here?" Scott asks.
"I walked." Stiles says, like it's no big deal. "My Jeep wasn't at the hospital, and your mom had the door open. She was checking the mail, so I just kind of slipped in and came upstairs."
"You walked across town?"
"Yes, Scott, one foot in front of the other. Why?"
"I don't know. I guess I just expected ghosts to be tied to a certain place."
"Well, maybe I'm not because I'm not buried six feet under yet." Stiles shrugs.
Scott shakes his head but goes along with it. He decides it's best to use the front door. Sneaking out might make his mom too suspicious. When she asks him where he's going, he says for a walk. Which isn't a lie. He is walking...to Stiles's house.
"Don't stay home too late, okay?" She asks.
"Yeah, mom." Scott forces a small smile, and steps forward to give her a kiss on the cheek.
"I'm here if you need me."
"I know."
That time he does give her a real smile, but it's gone by the time he and Stiles are walking down the sidewalk.
"This is so weird." Stiles sighs. "I always kind of wanted the power of invisibility, but not like this you know?"
"Stiles." Scott groans.
"Sorry, just trying to keep things light." Stiles smiles, and Scott shakes his head.
The house is dark when they get there, the cruiser absent. Stiles knows that if he thinks his son is about to die, the last place he'll be is home. He'll be shaking behind his paperwork, praying and crying alone in his office. That's what he did when Stiles's mom died. Not that he'll ever admit to knowing that. Stiles is without his house key, so Scott sneaks in through the unlocked bathroom window, and goes to Stiles's room. It feels wrong, sneaking like this, and a little surreal, knowing Stiles is standing in the front yard. He's torn between happiness and mourning, and he can't seem to decide how to stay on one or the other. Pushing it all aside, he grabs Stiles's backpack, takes out the textbooks and replaces them with his laptop and the leather book he finds on the nightstand. He grabs the spare key to the Jeep that the Sheriff keeps in his room before leaving.
It turns out, Stiles can't hold onto things. He can walk up and down stairs, and across rooms, but objects escape his grasp. So Scott shoulders the bag and takes the driver's seat of the Jeep, Stiles not looking very pleased.
"I'm glad I taught you how to drive this thing, or we'd be dead before we even left the driveway."
"Stiles." Scott huffs.
"You know I'm right." Stiles tips his head and looks out the window.
He thought about Derek. How was Derek going to take all of this? How was Derek taking his death? He couldn't see him from Scott's window, and they didn't seem to have exchanged many words. Was he relieved? Was he hurting? He turned his head to ask Scott, but he wasn't there. In a moment of panic he realized he was standing in the loft. Did he just materialize in the middle of Derek's living room? If he wasn't a little freaked this would totally be awesome.
"You have to talk about it Derek, don't bottle it up." Cora walked passed him to the kitchen.
"I'm not bottling. There's nothing to talk about. The alpha pack will pay. They killed one of mine." Derek growled from the couch.
Holy hell, he hadn't even noticed Derek laying on the couch barely three feet from him. It gave him a kind of warmth to hear Derek refer to him as on of his. Damn, he couldn't die now. Derek thought he was pack. This meant something, right?
"Derek. Derek, please tell me you can at least hear me, because I doubt you can see me. Otherwise you would have flipped like Scott. But you're not. And you're not looking anywhere near my direction or responding. Jeez. Why couldn't it have been you who saw me? This would be so much easier. I mean, Scott's cool, he's my bro, but I doubt he'll make a good translator, you know?" Stiles rambled.
"He might survive." Cora said quietly.
"Exactly." Stiles nodded.
"He won't. I've seen humans with less damage than that die. Maybe if I had given him the bite."
"He wouldn't have wanted it. You've said so yourself. He's best as a human. He's more useful, and if the bite fails he'll die." Cora shook her head.
"Scott, oh Scott, wherever could you be?" Stiles sighed, wishing he wasn't here to hear this.
It felt odd, being here and knowing they didn't know. Like he was in the middle of an intimate moment.
"We have to keep hope." Cora murmured.
They sat in silence for several minutes, Stiles twitching the whole time. Then Derek's phone buzzed. Isaac's update. He didn't speak, but his eyes flashed red and he growled. Stiles snuck around the couch to see the screen.
-Stiles is dead. TOD 9:28 pm.-
"No. No. No. No." Stiles was starting to panic.
He couldn't die. He had to get back to his body. Derek let out a snarl and Stiles tried in vain to grab onto the alpha.
"Derek! I'm right here! Dammit, man! It's me! Here! Not! Dead!" Stiles yelled, trying to punch him. His fist only went through him.
Gross.
The door flung open and Scott was there, panting heavily, backpack over one shoulder.
"What do you want?" Derek growled.
"Thank God, Scott." Stiles sighed, walking over to his friend.
"We have to save Stiles." Scott said.
"Stiles died." Derek folded his arms, trying to reign in his anger.
"No he didn't, he's standing right next to me." Scott stepped closer.
Derek looked at Scott for a long moment and then glanced to either side of him.
"He's here, I swear." Scott pushed.
"I don't believe you." Derek's voice was tight.
"Tell him I heard him say I was pack. And Cora said I wouldn't have wanted the bite." Stiles suggests.
"You called him pack. You thought about giving him the bite, but Cora said he wouldn't have wanted it." Scott said.
"Hmm, better translator than I thought." Stiles nods.
"What?" Scott gave him a confused expression.
"Sorry, thinking out loud. Becomes a habit when you know not everyone can hear you." Stiles shrugs.
"That's just weird, man." Scott shook his head, Derek and Cora looking confused and nervous.
"He was here?"
"Yeah, he just disappeared out of the Jeep. Like poof! I didn't know what to do so I rushed here and thought maybe he'd find his way too. I have his laptop and stuff. He says we just need a plan. That there's got to be a supernatural way to fix him."
"Fix it, not 'him'. I'm not a broken thing, Scott." Stiles said.
"Yes, you are, Stiles." Scott rolled his eyes.
"Whatever." Stiles huffed.
"Have you called Deaton?" Cora chimes in.
"Yeah, on the way here. He says a spirit trapped out of its body is dangerous. If they stay out too long, it becomes hard to get them back in." Scott nods.
"And if their body dies?" Derek asks.
"He...um...well, it's not impossible. But it requires something." Scott blushes. "He said there had to be a bond so strong it brought back the body long enough for the soul to reenter. After that happens, then the body should restore itself and heal."
"Why the color, Scott?" Stiles asked. "You look like your mom just asked to see the shoebox you keep under your gear in the back of your closet."
Scott threw Stiles a glare. They had sworn never to talk about it.
"You're seriously abusing your ghost powers right now." He growled.
"Hey, just asking a simple question." Stiles smirked.
"Deaton's only example for the bond was...lovers." Scott admitted.
"Oh." Stiles looked disappointed. "What about our bro bond? That's got to count for something, right? You're the only one who can see me."
"I don't know, Stiles. You can't exactly express a bro bond to a dead body!" Scott huffed.
"Well not when you say it like that."
"I just know you two are bickering, so shut up, the both of you." Derek growled.
"Well then." Stiles tried to look offended, but he looked more amused.
"I said shut up, Stilinski." Derek gave a knowing glare in his direction and for a moment Stiles wondered.
"Man's good." Stiles finally admitted.
"What if we got his dad to help?" Scott asked.
"No. No way. We're not asking my dad to go down to my body. I don't want him to see me until I'm pink cheek'd and rambling where he can hear me. No, Scott. Just, no."
"Stiles, calm down. It was just a suggestion." Scott held up his hands.
"I can't have him see me dead. Not after my mom." Stiles said finally, and suddenly the backpack flew off Scott's shoulder and to the floor, landing with a dull thud.
"Stiles. Calm down." Derek said softly.
"Easy for furry to say, he's not the one being carted to a morgue. Jesus, I can't die, Scott. I can't go out this young. My dad needs me, okay? He won't say it, but we can't afford to lose each other. We just can't."
"Stiles, man. I know. I know." Scott tried to console his friend. "Dude, breath. You look like you're going into a panic attack."
"Look like? Just look?" Stiles sputtered, but he tried taking several deep breaths.
"We got your text." Allison appeared in the open doorway with Lydia, and Isaac in tow.
"What is this an impromptu funeral?" Stiles joked.
"Don't talk like that!" Scott burst.
"Scott?"
"Stiles is here." Cora supplied. "But only Scott can hear or see him."
"Dude, I don't feel so well." Stiles groaned, feeling a sharp pain in his torso, his hand rubbed right where the pole would have gone, winching.
"What do you mean?" Scott looked panicked.
"I feel like...like I'm dying man." Stiles said.
"Don't joke, man." Scott twitched.
"No-just, ah." He collapsed onto one knee.
Scott lunged forward, but Derek caught him.
"Okay, okay." Stiles panted, sitting with his knees bent. "If I'm actually dying, I need you to do something for me Scott."
Scott let out a high pitched whine.
"No, nope. You're the only one who can. You're my bro. And I'm calling the bro card. I need you to help me say goodbye. I probably don't have enough time to say goodbye to my dad, so you'll have to tell him later. Tell him everything. But delete my browser history anyway, agreed?"
Scott didn't look happy but he gave a short nod.
"Okay, good. That's a step in the right direction I suppose." Stiles sighed, then gave a small laugh. "So you're a werewolf, and I'm Caspar the freaking ghost. Jeez."
"No jokes, though. I need you to tell Allison something. Say it word for word. Okay?"
"He says he's dying. He says he wants to say goodbye." Scott choked out. "His first message is for Allison."
Allison looked startled but she walked closer, looking at the blank space in front of Scott.
"He says, I never thought we'd be super close, but I was happy for you anyway. You made Scott happy, stupid happy, which I'm grateful for. You guys have been through a lot, and I trust you with him. Take care of him, for me, okay? Don't let him get too stupid, because we both know he can be. You're beautiful, and so much more than he's worth, but he's worth something, so I guess it works out in the end. I'm proud, to call you my sister, because let's face it, you two dorks are fated or whatever you want to call it."
Allison's eyes welled with tears.
"You're a great brother, Stiles." She murmured.
"Lydia." Scott pauses, looking at the scared red-head. "How many words can sum you up? Perfect? Yeah, that's the one I always chose. But you're more than that. You've grown up a lot, and even though I'm not in love with you, I love you. I love how strong you've been, and what a great addition you've been to Derek's pack. He'll look after you for me, I know it. Your gift is wonderful, Lydia, don't forget that. I love you."
"I love you too, Stiles." She hiccuped, Isaac wrapping a comforting arm around her.
"Isaac. You're like a freaking puppy, I mean this in the best way. You're mission, should you choose to accept it, is to look after dark and broody for me. Well, I guess you all will in your own way. But Isaac especially. You'll be good for him. Like a son, and a little brother all wrapped into one. You'll have to be the voice of reason, because I can't leave it up to Scott. Sorry, Scott. You're really awesome, beyond all the initial weird stuff that went down. I'm glad I got to know you man, honorary bro title, coming at you."
"Same, bro." Isaac gave a watery smile.
"Cora, I don't know you well, but you're a Hale, and you've been through hell, and I'm glad you're around. This is a good pack, a little sticky, a little course, but good. Loyal. Keep them in line for me too, eh? If you've got the time. You're pack in my book."
"You're pack in my book, Stilinski." Cora smiled.
"I guess now it's you, eh, sourwolf?"
Derek glared, but his shoulders softened.
"I wouldn't forget you, but I guess they save the best for last. I don't want you to go after the alpha pack for me. Don't get into too much danger or I will come back and haunt your ever-loving ass. You understand? You lead this pack, you care for them, and you do not say no to puppy piles."
There was a general chuckle.
"Don't lose trust, Derek. I mean it. Fall in love again. I know I did."
There's a soft gasp around the room as his words sink in, everyone glancing at Derek. Derek's eyes fall to the floor.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you could smell it on me. I'm not one who can easily hide those kinds of feelings. I'm sure you stayed silent for valiant reasons. I'm still underage, and at times annoying, etc. etc. I just wanted you to know I understand, and I'm proud to be pack."
"I knew." Derek said softly. "I knew the second I saw you. After Scott was bit."
"Mate instinct." Cora murmured, Derek nodded.
"I was going to ask for your father's blessing when you turned 18." Derek added.
Scott blushed, but stepped closer to Derek, whispering something in his ear, that not even the wolves heard. Derek looked surprised. There was a flash of light, everyone cringing before Scott choked out,
"He's gone."
They stayed silent for what seemed like ages. Isaac pulled Scott aside.
"What did you whisper to Derek?"
"Stiles's first name." Scott admitted. "His actual name."
They all agreed to stay together for a while, no one really saying much. Scott was about to leave when his phone went off. His mom was probably worried. He checked the number, not recognizing it, but answered.
"Hello?"
"Jeez, man. Okay, I think the mortician finally left, because it's dark. But I'm naked and this table is freaking freezing. Like I get that dead people wouldn't be complaining, but damn. I need a pair of pants pronto, buddy, pronto."
Scott froze, unable to process what he was hearing.
"Hello? Have I lost signal? Can you lose signal on a hospital line?"
"Stiles?" He whispered.
"Yes. Newly back from the dead. Seriously, about the pants though, sweatpants, because this wound hurts. Thank God, they left the bandages on. I think I'm still bleeding a little." Stiles rambled.
"We're coming to get you."
"Or at least tell your mom to tell them I'm not dead. That would be cool too." Stiles sighed. "Hey, Scott, I know we all had a glorious pack moment, but I think I need a little time before everyone else sees me, okay?"
"But Stiles-"
"Just, bro card. Last time I'm doing this for six months. Bro card."
"Fine." Scott sighed. "I'm coming."
"Don't break my car, she's fragile."
Scott hung up and looked at the others, staring closely at him.
"Stiles woke up."
"What?"
"Where?"
"Morgue?"
"Yeah, he called from the mortician line. I'm going to get my mom to help on this one. He wants...he only wants me to go down to the hospital for now. Although, Isaac, I think it's best if you call his dad." Scott said, grabbing his coat.
"Scott." Derek stood.
"He just needs a little time, and then everyone can come. I promise." Scott gave him a knowing look and then left, glancing at Allison.
"I bet they feel like total screw ups." Stiles sighed. "This is the second time in like a year that they've pronounced someone dead, just to wake up in the morgue. Both teens. This might get sketchy if we continue this pattern."
"You think?" Scott grinned, leaning against the hospital bed.
"How long until they discharge me?" Stiles glanced at the door.
"You had a pole shoved through you, I think it might be a bit." Scott admitted.
"My dad's probably never going to let me out of his sight after I get out." Stiles sighed.
"Not for a while." Scott smiled.
"Man, this sucks." Stiles hated being confined to small spaces, especially when he couldn't even move around.
"Consider it the price of being the hero." Scott teased.
"Yeah, yeah." Stiles sighed.
"Um, so...when do you think it'll be okay...to give the others the okay? To come see you." Scott asked.
"Are they out there?" Stiles asked.
"Isaac and Allison have been here for a couple hours. Lydia just got here, I heard her and Allison talking." Scott nodded.
"Just those three?" Stiles asked.
"He's trying to give you time. He's used to waiting, apparently." Scott gave him a small smile.
"Um, yeah, they can come in now." Stiles nodded.
Scott gave a little half smile, and stepped back. Stiles was confused and then he realized...Isaac. Stupid wolf hearing. The trio emerged a minute later, looking unsure and worried. Stiles gave them an encouraging smile and they flocked to his side, Lydia patting his hair, Allison giving him a kiss on the cheek, and Isaac touching his arm, smiling warmly.
"You had us worried, man."
"Who knew it wasn't that easy to get rid of me?" Stiles joked.
"Oh, we already knew that." Scott countered.
"I'm glad you're going to be okay." Allison smiled.
"I knew you loved me too much to leave me as the only genius in the pack." Lydia smiled, Stiles grinned.
"You know it." He winked.
"Promise to not leave again?" Isaac asked.
"I promise to try." Stiles nodded.
When Sheriff Stilinski came back to the room he found Scott and Isaac on either side of Stiles, snuggled close despite the cords and needles. Allison was leaning against Scott, one of his arms wrapped around her while she played with Stiles's hair. Lydia sat in a chair by the side, one of Stiles's arms slung across Isaac so she could hold his hand, rubbing circles with her thumb. He smiled despite of how tired he felt. His son had more in his life than he gave himself credit. Part of him knew the nurses wouldn't be happy to see all these people crowding in and around one bed, but he didn't have the heart to break it up, and instead took the other free chair. Lydia gave him a warm smile. He nodded back, relaxing with his cup of coffee.
Two days later, when the doctor was happy the wound was healing at a suitable pace, and they had done some small scale skin graphing, he was released to go home. But not to go back to school. He would have at least a whole week of rest ahead of him. He didn't like the thought of being alone for a week with nothing to do but lay in bed and maybe mess around on his computer. Maybe he could guilt Scott into visiting a lot. Or Isaac, with his honorary bro title. Yeah, maybe.
His dad didn't want to go back to work, but Stiles all but verbally harassed him into leaving. They would have the weekend to hang out. He couldn't demand all of his dad's time, no matter how nice it felt. So he settled for plugging into his music and settling down in bed, relaxing. During one of the song breaks he heard a book close and he jumped, yanking his headphones off, seeing Derek on his computer desk chair, holding one of his books.
"Jesus! How long have you been there?" Stiles asked, trying hard to slow his heartbeat.
"About 20 minutes. It's the longest I've ever heard you willingly go without talking. I had to see how long it would last." Derek's lips quirked into an almost smile, his eyes apologetic.
"Ha ha, very funny." Stiles leaned back, relaxing.
"How are you feeling?" Derek asked.
"Okay. They gave me these really strong pain meds but I don't like taking them during the day, it makes me feel funny." Stiles made a face.
"Are you in a lot of pain?" He stood, walking over to the bed.
"Uh...maybe a little." Stiles cleared his throat. "I mean on a scale of 1 to 10...I'm definitely...less than a 7."
Derek gave him an eye roll, but there was a feeling of fondness as he sat on the edge of the bed, and reached over, grabbing Stiles's arm. Before he could ask what he was doing, a blackness spread up Derek's veins and the pain in his chest loosened considerably.
"Oh. Wow." He sighed.
"Better?" Derek asked.
"Much." Stiles admitted, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.
"Why did you tell me?"
Stiles eyes shot open, "Huh?"
"Your name. Why did you tell me your name?"
"Oh. Because...my mother used to tell me, when you love someone, and you know they love you...you tell them something everything important. You connect with them. I wanted you to know my name, because not a lot of people do. Really few, actually, teachers not being counted. Even then, I think coach thinks my name is Stiles. But anyway, yeah. I wanted you to know, that my last thought was making sure you knew how much knowing that you cared about me just as much as I cared about you meant something." Stiles admitted. "If that makes any sense."
"Yeah." Derek said softly. "It does."
"I didn't tell Scott, but Deaton was right." Stiles smiled. "It was a strong bond that saved me. The bond of a pack."
Derek leaned over, lips meeting in a feverish, but painfully slow need. To Stiles it was like taking his first gulp of fresh air. Derek's heat washed over him, easing his pain by helping him to relax. Derek kept his hand on his arm, absorbing little waves of pain. This was much better than some stupid pill.
"Wow. Yeah, I could live with more of that." Stiles took a deep breath.
"I still intend to."
"What?"
"Ask for your father's blessing, once you're 18. I understand if you still want to go to college. You're my mate, and I'll support you through whatever you choose." Derek reached over with his other hand, playing with Stiles's hair.
"Mmm." Stiles hummed happily. "Say that again."
"Which part?" Derek smirked.
"The part where I'm yours." Stiles smiled.
"My mate." Derek gave him an honest smile, a whole smile, and it melted Stiles to the core.
"My mate." Stiles echoed.
He liked the sound of that.
"Mine." Derek growled, a playful look in his eyes.
He really liked the sound of that.