Disclaimer: I don't own any characters
A/N: I'm thinking of including this in a series of one-shots - please leave feedback/follow the story if you would wish to see this, thanks.
Also an important note for the whole series - I still write Derek as an Alpha because I prefer it that way, sorry!
Derek walked into the dark room wearily, rubbing a hand across his face. A quick glance at the clock showed him that it was well into the early hours of the morning. Slowly he wandered over to the bed, pulling off his shirt and jeans as he got under the duvet. A small groan came from the other side of the bed and soon Derek found himself covered with more than just the sheets.
"When did you get in?" Stiles croaked, his voice barely sounding. Derek wondered if he was even fully awake.
"Just a minute ago" He whispered, kissing his lover's sticky forehead. "You're burning up Stiles. Sit up a minute; I'll get you some painkillers." Derek eased Stiles onto his back, propping pillows behind his head.
The elder rose and headed into the bathroom to fetch a glass of water to go with the pills. The light flickered before filling the hallway and bedroom, causing Stiles to groan and shield his eyes.
Derek returned quickly, helping Stiles to swallow the medicine. As soon as he'd placed the cup onto the bedside cabinet he rose to turn off the light once more. Before he got there, he froze at the sight of his lover.
Nearly every inch of the younger's skin was bruised, ugly blotches of dark colours bleeding into each other and causing small sounds of pain to escape from Stiles' lips at each minuscule movement.
Derek shook his head in an attempt to clear his anger and immense pain at the sight and continued to turn off the light. He waited in the doorway for a moment to collect his thoughts, breathing deeply and trying not to cry at the thought of Sties' pain.
As soon as he climbed back into the bed, Stiles was on him within seconds. The younger man whimpered pitifully and wrapped himself further around Derek. The older man was acting like a pillow but he didn't mind; he'd do anything to help Stiles heal faster. Derek held him tightly, one arm reaching around his neck to stroke his hair and the other rubbing his injured arm.
"How do you feel?" He enquired softly.
Stiles chuckled weakly, "like I just went 10 rounds with a werewolf."
"That's not funny."
"I know, but it's true."
Derek sighed. "I should have been there... God!" He ended with a harsh cry. Stiles had been lured into the woods near his school where he'd been caught by another pack of werewolves, much less accommodating that the Hale pack.
Stiles moaned as he lifted his head to look at his lover. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this, sourwolf. I knew what I was getting into when I fell in love with you."
Derek wouldn't meet his eyes, causing Stiles to lift himself onto one elbow, wincing as he did so. "Look at me." When the Alpha refused to, Stiles poked him in the side. "Oi, look at me."
The elder did so, his eyes slightly glassy. "Der, this wasn't your fault, okay? I know you and I know you wouldn't have let this happen, had you known it was going to."
Derek sighed. "Stiles, you're hurt."
"Really, am I? Oh thanks for the information, genius." The younger rolled his eyes. He lowered himself back down onto his boyfriend's chest, flinching as he jolted his shoulder.
Derek gently ran his finger along a particularly deep cut on Stiles' leg and pressed kisses to his lover's head at each of his grimaces.
Stiles had begun to fall back asleep when he suddenly shot awake, looking up accusingly at his doting boyfriend.
"What? Are you in pain – should I call Deaton?" Derek immediately panicked.
"Why are you here?"
Derek's expression turned to one of confusion. "To perform a tap dance" he deadpanned. "What do you think, idiot? To look after you!"
"You're supposed to be on a flight to New York – you had a business meeting."
Derek gently pushed Stiles' head back down onto his chest and buried them both further underneath the blankets when his lover began to shiver. "I know, but as soon as Scott rang me I rescheduled."
"Derek…"
"No Stiles, don't even say it."
"You shouldn't have needed to do that – I can look after myself." Stiles whined.
Derek nodded. "Right, that's why I came in to find you in unbearable pain, some noticeable weight loss and bags under your eyes from a ridiculous amount of sleep-loss, not to mention the bruising."
Stiles nuzzled his head into his lover's broad muscles. "You take such good care of me, sourwolf. I should rethink your nickname."
Derek chuckled softly as his lover's pain medicine began to take effect, leaving an even smaller brain-to-mouth filter than usual. "Go to sleep, 'little red'."
As Stiles settled down he spoke softly. "As much as I appreciate it Derek, next time don't fly around the country to see me – I'm not a baby."
"You're my baby." Derek replied, freezing as soon as he said it. Stiles lifted himself slowly, surprise across his face.
"Did you just…?" Stiles whispered.
"Oh I cannot believe I said that." Derek's shocked expression turned to one of disgust, sickened by his own soppiness.
Stiles, however, beamed up at his boyfriend, crushing a kiss onto his lips and hugging him even tighter. "I love you, Der-bear."
"Alright, definitely time for you to sleep now."
It was quiet for a while, before "how is this my life?"
"What?" Derek questioned, thinking that the wolves might have damaged Stiles' brain even more than it already was. Stiles was lazily drawing random patterns on Derek's chest with his fingers.
"Just, listen to you. A big, bad, Alpha wolf being ridiculously cute and looking after little old me who just got beaten up by a seriously crazy werewolf – how is this my life?"
Derek shushed his younger lover, constantly stroking his skin to offer comfort, trying not to let his lover get worked up. The Alpha listened as Stiles' breathing finally evened out, waiting until he fell asleep before closing his own eyes. Suddenly Stiles' whispering broke the silence, slightly slurred.
"Don't leave me, 'kay? I need you, Der."
Derek wondered how much Stiles would remember when he woke up, but he knew his promise would serve for longer than just the one night.
He pressed a kiss to the top of his lover's head. "I'll always be here, Stiles. I'm never going to leave you."
If possible, Stiles buried himself even deeper into his lover's chest and Derek tightened his arms around the broken and bruised body; vowing that he would find and destroy the pack that dared to even touch, never mind hurt, his boy.