When Stiles came to he was in a hospital bed, propped up by several pillows. Groggily, he opened his eyes to see the whole pack standing by his bedside. Erica stood at the foot of his bed, her usual smug grin replaced by a look of acute fear, and Boyd stood close by her, clutching her arm like a little boy who'd lost his favourite teddy bear. Allison and Lydia were on two plastic chairs dragged in from the corridor, with Scott standing behind them, hands gripping tight to the obnoxious orange plastic, his knuckles turning white. Isaac was stood next to Scott, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet, tears welling in his eyes. The most surprising, though, was Derek. He was sat on the chair next to his head, taking one of Stiles's hands in both of his, his usually domineering eyebrows furrowed with worry. Whenever Stiles had imagined being on his death bed, it had always been Scott in that place, or occasionally Lydia. Never Derek. He guessed it was something to do with being Alpha and thought no more of it.
There was an audible sigh of relief as they saw Stiles blink in confusion and then groan. He felt like shit. He looked down at the three neat lines of stitches stretching across his torso, and then back up to the pack.
"Did you catch the evil bitch?" were Stiles's first words.
Scott let out a shaky laugh. "Thank God, Stiles! No, we didn't. She was too fast and you were bleeding too much. It was so scary. I thought..." Scott trailed off, tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Hey, hey! Don't worry about me," Stiles comforted him, but directing his words to the rest of the pack too. "I'm Stiles: I'm annoying, I'm invincible, and it's going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me!" He chuckled. The rest of the pack joined in, and Stiles knew it had been a long time since they'd laughed. Even Derek was chuckling quietly, and gave Stiles's hand a little squeeze.
Before he had the chance to turn his head and question Derek, Melissa came in and gave a little cheer when she saw that Stiles was awake again. She squeezed through the crowd of bodies until she was standing by Stiles's head.
"Now, sweetie, I'm not going to ask what it was that did that to you," she began. "But if you ever scare me and your father like that again, I swear, I'll... I'll... I'll ban you from seeing Scott!" she exclaimed, ruffling Stiles's hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead.
"Sorry Melissa," Stiles grinned. "I promise I won't do anything stupid again."
Melissa was just about to leave the room when Stiles spoke up again. "Melissa?"
"Yes, Stiles?"
"Did my dad come home when you told him I was hurt?" He asked, fear making his heart rate climb. Derek, hearing the change in pulse, squeezed gently on his hand again, willing Stiles to calm down.
"No, honey, he didn't. God, did he want to, but I told him to stay put. I figured whatever the problem is in Beacon Hills, you wouldn't want him back in town until it's over." She told Stiles softly.
His body slumped in relief and his heartbeat returned to normal. "Thank you, Melissa," he whispered as she exited the room.
"Thank you, Melissa," came a mocking voice. Stiles's body tensed. The sphinx.
"What is it Stiles?" Derek asked, trying and failing to keep the panic from his voice.
"A voice," he began.
"A voice," she repeated.
"Her voice! Can you not hear it?"
"Her voice! Can you not hear it?"
"There's no voice, Stiles..." Isaac told him. Stiles looked desperately at Lydia. If anyone would be able to hear the voice too, it would be her. She shook her head slowly, sadly.
Stiles's breathing started to get quicker, shallower, as he felt the edges of his vision turning black.
"I don't want..." he murmured.
"I don't want..." the voice mocked. "What don't you want, Stiles?"
He gasped. The voice was no longer just repeating him. She was getting stronger.
The last thing he heard was Derek, growling his name, and then whining loudly, as a dull roar filled his skull, and his vision petered out.
