Hey all, before you read I would just like you to listen to Fix You by Coldplay while you read this. Thanks. 3 Bee
Stiles and Derek were friends. It was a kind of unspoken agreement between the two. The animosity was still there of course but with a more, well, friendly air to it. Stiles and Derek were friends. When Stiles got hurt, on Derek's watch, Derek went out of his mind. On the way to the hospital, Derek never left Stiles' side. When the ambulance came Derek demanded that he ride with Stiles. When they arrived at Beacon Memorial Stiles was rushed into intensive care and Derek was forced to stay behind. It ate Derek up inside as he explained about the hunters to Melissa McCall, thinking, knowing, it was all his fault that Stiles got hurt. When Sheriff Stilinski showed up for his son, he demanded to know what happened. Derek couldn't tell him. He couldn't tell Stiles' father how Stiles had gotten hurt or how Derek was responsible for it. And it ate him up inside. Ms. McCall explained to the Sheriff about the various knife wounds Stiles had mysteriously received and Derek flinched at every word. It was his fault. Stiles could die and it was his fault. When Sheriff Stilinski saw Derek with the rest f the pack he demanded to know what he was doing here. Derek simply replied that he and Stiles were friends. He didn't trust himself to say anymore. The Sheriff wasn't satisfied with that answer, and neither was Derek. Before he could say more, the Sheriff busied himself by interrogating the doctor that just came out of Stiles' room. He was stable. Visitors would most likely be allowed within the hour. Derek sank down on his knees as relief washed over him. Stiles was okay. He was going to be fine.
The Sheriff was the first one to see Stiles, naturally. So Derek sat and waited. Next Scott joined Sheriff Stilinski. So Derek sat and waited. And waited. And fell asleep. A nurse woke Derek up saying that Stiles was awake and wanted to see him. Derek shot out of his chair and down the hall before she could finish her sentence. Derek slowed down before entering Stiles' room and took a deep breath. As he entered the room Derek noticed the way Stiles' eyes lit up when he saw him, Derek smiled at that. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless. And a meaningful one at that. Stiles returned the smile ad patted the edge of the bed for him to sit. Derek obliged and looked over to a sleeping Sheriff Stilinski in the corner. As soon as he sat down Derek started apologizing, saying how it was all his fault and he shouldn't have let Stiles come. Stiles cut him off, telling Derek it wasn't his fault. He wasn't the one that hurt him, the hunters were. It was the hunter's fault. Not Derek's. Besides, Stiles told him, Stiles would have come along no matter what. Derek laughed and tentatively patted Stiles' shoulder. Stiles reached up with his un-IVed hand and grabbed hold of Derek's. Derek could have lost Stiles. Could have lost his friend. Stiles told him that would never happen. Never.
Stiles tried shifting in bed to better face Derek and exclaimed out in pain. Derek suppressed a pained moan at his friend's discomfort. He tightened his grip on Stiles' hand and soon his veins were slowly darkening into a deep black. Stiles gasped and tugged his hand free from Derek's grip. He reproached Derek, telling him to let him be and that he was fine. Derek sighed angrily, not understanding why Stiles wouldn't let him help. Stiles smiled slightly and regained Derek's hand in his own. He forced his golden-brown irises to meet Derek's shocking green. He promised that he was fine and Derek finally believed him. They let their hands fall, fingers still intertwined with each other's fingers. The air was calm and quiet. Almost peaceful. It was perfect.
They sat like that for a while. In silence. Neither of them bothering to make small talk. Derek only left when Stiles finally drifted off. It was there, sitting with Stiles in the hospital, that Derek realized he and Stiles weren't friends. They were more.
They were pack.