Stiles raced to his side, dropping to his knees sliding a bit on the damp earth. He probably scrapped his knees raw, but didn't seem to notice as he reached with shaking hands to press at the bleeding wound on Derek's chest, babbling protests and pleas.
"I'm sorry," Derek choked out through pain and blood filling his mouth.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Stiles wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to see this.
With the last effort he squeezed Stiles' hand on his chest.
"It'll be okay. I promise."
He closed his eyes and his heart stilled.