Last night's episode gave me a lot of feels. This is the result.
The Static From Your Arms (Its a Catalyst)
When Stiles entered Isaac's makeshift room at two o'clock in the morning, nothing had changed since the last time he'd been in there, over two hours before. Isaac was still lying in his bed, wrapped in bloody bandages, unconscious. And Derek was still sitting in the rickety chair in the corner, eyes focused on his Beta. Stiles couldn't even be sure if he had blinked in that time.
"How is he?" Stiles asked.
"The same. The others?"
Stiles nodded. "They're fine, nothing a good night's rest won't fix. They keep sniffing me though. Like, nuzzling and sniffing, like they're trying to make my scent a permanent fixture in their noses. It's weird."
"I'll tell them to stop," Derek said, making no effort to get up.
"No, it's… It's fine. Just weird. But it's okay. Better than smashing my head in with car parts."
Derek made a grunting noise, like he probably wasn't even really paying attention.
"You should sleep," Stiles said.
"I'm fine."
"You were beat up pretty bad back there. Worse than the others. You need to rest, too."
"I'm fine."
"Derek-"
"Maybe you should sleep," Derek suggested.
"I didn't take eight bullets to the chest. And I recall there being several knives." He doesn't even bother to mention the other five bullets to his arms and legs, or the fact that Stiles had been sure Derek was going to bleed to death only a few hours ago.
"I'm. Fine," he said again through gritted teeth.
"No. You're. No. You're exhausted. You've been awake for days. Go sleep, or I will have Boyd come drag your ass to bed." Derek looked like he was about to protest again, but Stiles didn't give him the chance. "I'll stay with Isaac. I'll make sure he's okay. If anything changes, you'll be the first to know."
Derek nodded solemnly and rose from his chair. Stiles took it as a testament to just how much their relationship had changed, that there was now trust between then, where there used to be only fear and hatred.
Stiles reached for Derek's arm as he passed, brushing his fingers over still tender skin. "He'll be okay," he assured him. "He just needs time."
Derek gave him a distant nod and walked from the room. Stiles settled down into the now empty chair and watched Isaac's sleeping form, looking for any sign that he was really going to be okay, that he would wake up.
Stiles didn't know how long he was sitting there before there was a change. It felt like hours, but the sun wasn't up yet, so it couldn't have been that long. Isaac stirred, moaning in pain. Stiles shot out of his chair and was at his side in an instant.
"Shhh," he soothed, running his hand through Isaac's hair. "It's okay. Just a nightmare. You're okay, you're safe."
"Stiles?" he asked groggily.
Stiles smiled. "Morning sleepyhead. You gave us quite a scare back there."
"Mm?"
"Nothing to worry your pretty little head about. I'm just gonna check your wounds, then you can get back to sleep, kay?"
"Mkay."
Stiles peeled back his bandages and was pleased to find that his wounds were almost completely healed.
"Almost good as new," he said with a smile. He reached out and ruffled Isaac's hair, before pulling away, intent on returning to his chair.
"Don't," Isaac said, grabbing his wrist to stop him.
"How bad?" he asked. The nightmares had to have been at their worst for Isaac to ask him to stay. Stiles didn't wait for his answer before climbing into the bed next to him.
"My dad," he said, and that was all Stiles needed to hear. He pulled him close and began to run his hand through his hair again, while Isaac buried his face in Stiles' chest, taking a long, deep sniff.
"Why do you guys do that?" he asked, though he was more curiously amused than annoyed.
"Hmm?"
"The sniffing."
Isaac shrugged. "I don't know, it's just… Do you remember what your mom smelled like?"
Stiles closed his eyes and smiled sadly as he thought of her scent. Peaches and rosemary. He can't walk by the produce man in summer without getting teary.
"The smell that somehow makes everything okay, just because she's there," Isaac continued. "It's like that. The smell of the Alpha is comforting."
Stiles was shocked into silence for a moment. "But I'm not… I'm not your Alpha."
But Isaac doesn't respond because he's already asleep, his face still buried in Stiles' chest, his fist grasped tightly around his shirt, so he can't move away.
Stiles was still away, his mind still moving a mile a minute, when the sun started to rise and Derek reappeared, looking far better than he had when Stiles made him leave.
"Hey," he said quietly from the doorway.
"Hey."
"How is he?"
"Better. Almost healed, last I checked. Woke up a while ago, nightmares. But he's been okay since."
"I can take over, if you want to get out of here."
Stiles shook his head. "I'm okay."
"Then why do you look like something is bothering you."
"Just something… something he said. Implied. I don't know."
Derek walked across the room and settled into the bed on Isaac's other side. Isaac hummed but wasn't disturbed by his presence.
"What did he say?" he asked.
"Just that… I don't know. He made it sound like… like I'm Alpha. But that's crazy. I mean, I'm just a human. I'm not even pack."
Derek almost laughed. He reached out and took one of Stiles' hands. It was bruised and bandaged with bloodstained cloth. Derek ran his thumb over the healthy skin. "You're far from just a human," he said. "Pack isn't just wolves, it's humans too. You've always been pack."
"Okay," Stiles said, his voice quiet with surprised. "But it's still-"
"You protect them. None of us would have made it out of there if it hadn't been for you. You make them feel safe."
"But you're the Alpha."
Derek interlocked his fingers with Stiles', careful not to hurt him. "It's not uncommon for there to be an Alpha pair. My parents were both Alpha."
"So, it's like… we're like the pack dads?"
Derek half smiled. "Yeah. Something like that."