The heat of the day had Stiles half-asleep in the curve of Derek's body, the gentle sway of the hammock in the breeze only adding to the feeling that it was a dream for him to be there.
Derek's voice rose and fell as he read with his mouth against Stiles's shoulder, wrapped around him as much as possible. Derek's body was a cradle under and around him, his hand gentle as he rubbed sweat off of the nape of Stiles's neck, accepting the iced tea Stiles leaned over in the hammock to get them. "Wasn't it winter?" Stiles murmured suddenly, looking out over the long grass swaying in the light of the summer sun.
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to." Derek mumbled, making Stiles shiver and clench. Pain started in his side, sharp and distressing. Derek's fingers ghosted over his spine, and Stiles turned enough to be able to cling to him. "I can only protect you if you let me."
"You can't protect me if I ask you what you're protecting me from."
Derek kissed along the line of his neck, licking over the constellation of freckles that dotted under Stiles's ear along his jaw. "If I told you what I was protecting you from, I'd have to let you go."
"But if you don't...could I stay?"
"Forever."
Stiles remembered the smell of smoke and skin burning. He remembered the hopeless weight of water pressing into his lungs, making it hard for him to breach back to the surface. There'd been cold, hard ground and he'd curled up where he'd been thrown onto it, his shoulder aching and broken where it'd smashed into the floor. He didn't remember what had brought him there, who it was that had captured him or why. He didn't want to know. Couldn't bear to remember. If he could stay in this perfect warmth. Derek's skin and his sticking with sweat where his wearing Derek's shirt had ridden up and pulled to reveal pale skin to press against Derek's smooth tan; gentle fingers, gentle hands, gentle voice where the only disruption had been that Stiles had wondered, and that Derek had despaired, just a little, at the horrors of what Stiles didn't have the energy to grasp and remember. Stiles could stay in the safety here, could have Derek be his like he'd been dreaming of for weeks.
"Stay with me." Derek pleaded, his arms closing tight, lifting up, keeping him there. "Stiles, just stay with me."
"Derek?" Stiles whispered, unsure of where he was-if it was the field, or the basement burning down around them.
There were fingers running through his hair, over his scalp, tugging lightly, "Stiles, stay with me, I won't let you go."
Stiles took a painful breath, and stayed.