Was reading other people's fan fics and thought I wanted to give teen wolf a try. Might turn to Derek/Stiles slash, but for now it's just Stiles hurt/comfort. Not finished. Ideas (especially for the attacking monster) welcome.

"Stiles!" Derek barks, "What are you doing? Get back on the couch."

"Sure," Stiles laughs, "Just a sec." Derek had gone into the kitchen to get the dehydrated teenager a glass of water only to come back and find that the boy was standing and leaning over the couch.

"No. Now," Derek insists, coming closer to the impossible teen. Stiles is sick. He should be in bed. However, the stubborn Sophomore that he is, refuses to lay down and rest. Derek and Scott are not very happy with him.

"I just…have to…" Stiles reaches behind the couch for something Derek can't see, "There!" Stiles leans back, holding onto the TV remote, "Don't want you getting bored, now do I Sourwolf?" He hands the very angry Derek Hale the TV remote before stretching and being attacked by a hacking cough.

"Fine. You got it, now back on the couch," Derek insists.

"Do I have to?" Stiles asks, "There's still time for you to leave, you know. In fact…Here's your chance!" Derek had honestly been thinking this over. Stiles was impossible to take care of and never did as he was told. Not only that, but he didn't want either Scott or Derek fussing over him and had insisted several times that they leave. Only, they can't.

The doctor said that the only way he would allowed Stiles out of the hospital was if there was someone there constantly to watch over him. He had a broken leg, the flu, and not to mention some type of monster after him - though, the doctor didn't know that last part.

So, no, he couldn't leave. Apparently Stiles was very important to Scott, so Derek was stuck taking care of the impossible boy until Scott - or Mr. Stalinski - got back. The former on an errand and the later at a week long conference. Scott and Derek were all that he had in the ways of protection, so he couldn't be left alone.

Instead of leaving, Derek grabs Stiles' shoulders and pushes him down onto the couch, "Sit. Good boy."

"Whatever," Stiles groans, crossing his arms and leaning back.

"Hungry?" Derek asks.

Stiles shakes his head no, "Nope."

"What do you want? Sandwich or cold pizza?" Derek asks, ignoring Stiles.

"I'll assume you're asking yourself, because - as I said - I'm not hungry," Stiles protests.

"Sandwich it is," Derek says rolling his eyes. The kid had lost a lot of weight from being sick. He hardly eats anything and needs to bulk up. He was already pretty skinny before.

"Help yourself," Stiles rolls his eyes, "I, however, am going for a walk."

Derek laughs, assuming it's a joke before realizing - Stiles isn't funny. He turns around to see Stiles pulling on his left shoe, "No you're not."

"Look, you and Scott want to hang around my house? That's fine," he sighs, tying the lace, "But I don't have to be here for you to do that."

"Scott said I had to take care of you," Derek states walking towards Stiles and taking his right shoe, placing it out of reach, "So that's what I'm going to do. And I can't do that if you ditch me."

"Since when do you listen to Scott?" Stiles asks, "And who said I needed the two of you taking care of me?" Derek is tempted to tell him about the monster. He doesn't already know because for some odd reason, Scott refused to tell him. Derek thinks to himself, 'Maybe if I do then it would shut him up.'

He grins, settling on the idea, "When you can-"

"I'm back!" Scott yells from the door, "Have fun without me?"

"Oh yeah," Stiles rolls his eyes, "Lots! Can you both leave now?"

"Sorry, Stiles, but someone's got to take care of you," Scott taunts, lugging two grocery bags.

"Yeah," Stiles says, standing, "And that person is me. So if you don't mind…"

I get angry, ready to tell him again, "Actually we do mind because-"

"Because you would do the same for us," Scott chimes in. Derek rolls his eyes.

"Actually," Stiles says, snatching the shoe from Derek before he can react, "I would leave the both of you in a ditch. So…" He - despite the pain in his broken leg that he refused to get a cast for - walks towards the door. He is abruptly stopped when Derek's hand grabs his shoulder and flings him back so he falls on the couch.

"You don't have to be so rough," Scott reprimands, "Now, Stiles, you have to stay here. I don't want to hear any if's, and's, or but's about it, understand?"

"Yes, mom," Stiles complains in a mocking tome, "Can I at least go to the bathroom without being manhandled?"

"Sure," Scott shrugs, "If you use the crutch."

At this point, Stiles just doesn't care, "Fine, whatever." Derek hands him the crutch and he heads to the bathroom, holding rather than using it.

Once there, he quickly opens the bathroom window. Derek and Scott talk things over in the kitchen.

"Are you sure it's a good idea not telling him?" Derek asks, "He's really annoying. Maybe we could just give the monster what it wants and be done with him."

"Come on Derek, you don't hate him that much," Scott laughs. When Derek raises his eyebrows, Scott realizes that maybe he does, "And anyway, we're not doing that. He's part of the pack whether you like it or not and we take care of our own."

"Fine. Whatever. Point is you're back and I can leave now," Derek sighs, turning to leave. Scott yells out to him, but whatever he says is lost as Derek closes the door. Derek gets into his car, starting it up and driving away. He goes about a block before he sees a familiar teenager walking the streets - without shoes.

He pulls over to the wandering Stiles and asks, "What are you doing?"

"Taking a walk," Stiles states. Derek realizes that he's without his crutch, "How'd you know I left?"

Derek laughs, "Didn't. I was leaving and saw you. You need to go back. Now."

"Sorry, Sourwolf, no can do," Stiles shrugs, "You see, some very angry werewolves with personal space issues recently invaded my house. I think I'll walk around until both of them are gone."

"We're just trying to protect you," Derek growls, "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"Protect me from what?" Stiles asks. He knew there was something the Sourwolf wasn't telling him, but he wasn't sure how to ask.

"Whatever monster wants to kill you right now," Derek states, "Scott didn't want to tell you, but you're being too stubborn. There's some monster who wants you dead for some reason and he insists that we keep you safe. So hop in and I'll take you back."

Stiles is stunned, "What monster? Why?"

"Didn't you just hear me?" Derek growls rolling his eyes, "I said some monster for some reason. We don't know."

"Well, what do you know?" Stiles says in the same tone.

"Not much, and Scott can explain better," Derek states, "Just that it wants you dead."

"Well, let me know when you get some better information," Stiles waves Derek off as he turns down an alleyway that the car will never fit in. Derek is forced to either call Scott or handle this himself. Now angry with the kid, he decides on the second.

"Stiles," Derek calls out. Stiles hesitates, looking back, "Get in this car right now before I rip your throat out with my teeth."

Stiles laughs, "Don't you think that would be counter productive?" He shakes his head before continuing down the alleyway.

"That's it," Derek mutters to himself. He shuts off the car and gets out, leaving his door open. He jogs after Stiles - completely silent - and tackles him.

"Hey!" Stiles yells as Derek gets off. He rolls a startled Stiles onto his back.

"I warned you," grabbing Stile's waistband, Derek lifts Stiles onto his shoulder.

"Hey-Put me down!" Stiles struggles. He kicks out, but Derek holds his feet at the knees. When Stiles tries to hit him, he simply growls - putting a stop to it. Stiles continues to complain and squirm as Derek carries him back to the car. He sets him inside.

"Don't try anything stupid," he growls as he watches Stile's hand go for the handle. Stiles stops abruptly and sinks into the seat - arms folded.

"You're not really going to rip my throat out are you?" Stiles asks as Derek slides in, a slightly mortified look on his face.

"That would be counter productive," Derek states, pulling on his seat belt and starting the car. He dives them back to Stile's house in silence. When they arrive, Scott is on the porch, phone in hand.

"You found him!" Scott yells happily, running down the front steps. He yells at Stiles as he hobbles out of the car, "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking the two of you are nuts and I needed some space," the drained teen complains.

To be continued...