"Wake up…wake up!"
Stiles starts to panic as Derek does not stir, does not answer - not even a flicker of an eyelid to show the cure worked.
"Shit. Please, Derek just wake up, will you? Please? I need you to wake up now, I'm not even kidding I swear I will sit here shouting abuse at you or something until you do, you can't do this to me. You have to wake up."
His voice rises at least an octave as there is still no response from the werewolf. Stiles is close to breaking into humiliating tears, in front of Scott no least - he hasn't cried in front of Scott since that time in second grade when he fell of a tree and broke his leg - and he'll be damned if he's gonna break down now cause of a stupid crush on a stupid grumpy werewolf that probably doesn't even think about him.
At last Derek stirs, disoriented at first but then he grabs hold of Stiles's hand - his, not Scott's - and Stiles can breathe again.
Later, when Derek's as good as driven them away and he's lying alone on his bed thinking about the day Stiles realises that the whole time his only thought was please God don't let him die before I can tell him how I feel.
He vows to swallow his nerves and tell him just that tomorrow. Or the next day. Latest end of the week. Cause the way Derek just seems to attract trouble is a little too much for Stiles's frazzled nerves.