AN: erhm, I'm not really good at this, but uh.. I hope you like it. It's kind of just a silly little ol' draft, an idea I came up with because I'm a masochist and I like to torture myself with feels, but yeah! Please R/R, comment or whatever you feel like ok bye.
Death is inevitable. Stiles knew that. Scott knew that. Derek sure as hell knew that. What none of them actually understood was just how close, how near it really was. How it was always lurking around them. How it was always just waiting to strike.
They did find out however, how close Death was.
A rivaling pack had been wandering about on Derek's territory, challenging him. Naturally, Derek accepted the challenge and they started fighting. Things had escalated and soon it was a full on battle between the packs, Alpha versus Alpha, Betas versus Betas. Stiles knew he shouldn't have gone out of the car, the car Derek had ordered him to stay in, so that he wouldn't get hurt. Stiles however, did not listen. Since when did he start taking orders from Sourwolf?
Derek had the rival Alpha at bay. Scott, Allison and the rest of Derek's pack taking care of the other Betas. What everyone had failed to see was one of the rivaling Betas sneaking off, hiding behind the rest, waiting to strike.
It all happened so fast. A blur, really. One second Stiles was trying to help the others, the next he was on the cold, cold floor, the Beta that had been hiding, in front of him, claws bloody, mouth open. He had clawed him. Three deep rifts in his side. The boy paled and pressed his hand to his side, trying to stop the bleeding, failing miserably. Derek snapped his head up at the scent of Stiles blood. Something changed in him. He roared, a deep, deep roar and snapped the neck of the other Alpha, before practically leaping over to the last Beta, the one that had clawed Stiles, snapping his neck as well. As soon as he had offed the two, he rushed to Stiles' side.
Stiles couldn't feel much. Practically nothing, really. No pain. No cold. No warmth, nothing. He could however feel that his time, here on Earth was up. It was the numb feeling that did it. The want of sleep. Derek had his hands all over him, barking something at the others. Stiles couldn't tell what it was. "Hey, sourwolf. Turn that frown upside down, will you? You never know who might fall in love with your smile." He tried to crack a joke, lighten the mood. The effort of actually commenting anything made him cough. The wolf glared back before snarling at his Betas. "What the hell are you doing?! Get Deaton, now!" Stiles' chocolate brown eyes started to get glossy. His free hand found Derek's, wanting something to hold on to as he shook his head lightly, struggling with the effort. "Don't," he said, "It's time for me to go, Derek." Derek stopped what he was doing, stopped his hands from going to Stiles' wound, to stare at Stiles before shaking his head furiously. "No, no, no, no, don't let go, Stiles. You hear me? Don't!"
Stiles turned his head away from Derek, had to see what the bright light was. He pulled the corners of his mouth into a drowsy smile, his eyes glossy with tears. "I can see her, Derek; my mom. She's so beautiful." His Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to swallow back his tears. "You'll tell my dad I love him, right?" He asked, turning his eyes to Derek again, still with the little smile. Derek shook his head again in desperation, his own eyes starting to water up. "Don't let go, Stiles. Please. Please, don't let go."
Derek felt the bottom of his lip quiver as he saw the boy still, his eyelids covering those brown eyes, the ones Derek could stare into forever and just get lost in. He swallowed back his tears, didn't want to cry. Instead, he pressed his lips to Stiles' one last time before letting out a loud howl, an homage to the human, his mate.
Stiles let go.