"Stiles?" He barely registered that there was someone else there, didn't even notice the hand on his shoulder. "Stiles? What are you doing out here? What happened to you?" The hands were shaking him, Stiles looked up into the shining blue orbs staring at him.
"Derek? What are you doing here?" Stiles kept himself wrapped up tightly, resting his head back down on his arms." Derek knelt in front of him, keeping a hand on Stiles' arm.
"Stiles? What's wrong? You are the one that came to me. I could smell you, blood and something else. I came to see what was going on. Then I found you. So now you tell me, what are you doing here?" Derek fixed his patented glare onto the top of Stiles' head.
"I just needed to be alone. I couldn't be there anymore...not with him..." Stiles' whispered, hugging himself tightly. He thought he was dreaming, because why would Derek Hale, the werewolf who hated him, be here, trying to figure out what was wrong; especially when his best friend didn't care enough to take his head out of Allison's ass to see what was going on. Stiles felt a fresh wave of tears wash over him, he did nothing to stop them.
"Stiles, talk to me, what happened? Did McCall do this to you?" Derek growled, pulling on Stile's arm. Stiles laughed, the sound was as hollow and empty as he felt.
"Scott? Yea right, his head is too far up Allison's ass that he wouldn't notice if I died until a week after I wasn't around, like he would notice my dad beats the shit out of me every night." Stiles threw off Derek's hand and walked away. He only got a few steps before his legs gave out. Stiles sat there and held his side, too weak and tired to even cry. Derek didn't know what to say, but he know what needed to be done, the wound on his side needed to be cleaned and bandaged. He walked over to Stiles, crouching by his side, reaching around him and putting his hand on Stile's shoulder; he noted that Stiles leaned in towards him. Stiles relaxed at he felt Derek's arm go around him in almost a gentle touch, he leaned into the solid wall of warmth at his side, shamelessly taking any comfort he could from the older wolf.
Derek sat down and pulled Stiles against him, wrapping him in a gentle hug, he knew what the younger teen needed, and he knew that until the teen got a hold on himself that he wouldn't move and wouldn't start healing. They just sat there for a while, Derek holding Stiles against him, shielding the younger teen from the cruelties of the world. Stiles leaned against Derek, wrapping his arms around the wolf, relaxing into the heat rolling off him. The scent coming off Derek started to wake something in Stiles, the scent of forest, something spicey, and a musk that was all Derek washed over him, soothing him even more; Derek's scent and the strong heartbeat underneath Stile's ear was comforting, it lulled him into a deep sleep.
"Come on, let's go." Derek picked up the sleeping teen, careful not to aggravate his wounds. Derek focused on the youths heartbeat, it was sounding faint, almost as if he had given up on living. He subconsciously gripped the teen tighter. There was something about this young teen that made Derek want to protect him, to never let anything hurt him again.
Derek shouldered the door to his house opened and carefully carried the boy up to his bedroom, gingerly placing him onto the bed. Derek reached out to touch the boys face but stopped himself, he wasn't sure why he felt the need to be close to the teen. He just shook he head and went to the bathroom, grabbing some bandages, rubbing alcohol, a cloth and some warm water. Derek slipped back into the room and placed the supplies on the floor beside the bed. He tried to take off the shirt Stiles' was wearing so he could get at the wound; Derek stopped the second the teen hissed in pain, instead he just shredded the shirt and gently peeled it off the others body. Derek was consumed with a fury so strong that if he didn't have to take care of Stiles' he would have gone and given the Sheriff exactly what he deserved. Derek gently grazed his fingers over the numerous bruises that covered Stiles' lithe body. Blinding fury coursed through Derek as his fingers went over the massive bruise now covering Stiles' stomach and side, a snarl escaped his throat as he inspected the gash in Stile's side. He picked up the soft cloth and dipped it in the warm water before carefully wiping around the wound, cleaning the blood that covered the soft ivory skin. With all the blood that was cleaned up, the water was turned a deep red. Derek grabbed the rubbing alcohol before pulling the teen against him once more.