II - Glacialis

Sneaker clad feet ran over the snowy and rocky pathway. The heavy thumping on the frozen ground matched equally laboured breathing. Stiles' feet flew down the hill, eyes trained on the frozen lake. He reached the riverside and skidded over the ice, just in time to grab the leather jacket that was about to sink to the bottom of the lake. With strength he didn't know he had, he pulled the young man out of the frigid water.

'Come on, come on.' He muttered, a steady mantra to keep him going. He heard the ice crack underneath his weight and he prayed to all gods above that it wouldn't give.
When he safely reached the riverside he allowed himself to fall on his knees, white puffs of smoke coming from parted lips. Derek Hale's face was whiter than usual, frosting already forming in his hair.

'Derek, wake up, will ya?' Stiles said and nudged the man's shoulder. He was shivering, but not as hard as the wolf on the ground. 'Come on, dude, you are pretty enough as it is. No need for a beauty sleep.' He joked but it fell flat as there was no response.

'Derek?' Stiles whispered and panic flooded through his body. He put two fingers on Derek's neck, trying to find a pulse. It was there, albeit soft and thready, slowly fading.
Stiles leant over, placing his ear over Derek's slightly parted lips.

He was completely silent, waiting for a breath which never came.

'No.' Terror was eating him alive. He felt again for a pulse. It wasn't there anymore.
'No. I can't lose you too!' Stiles whispered, tears clouding his vision.

Memories flashed before his eyes, his mom lying on the hospital bed, face sallow and dark bruising underneath her empty eyes, staring lifeless at the ceiling, his father drinking himself in a stupor, a never ending stream of tears running over his face. The sheriff accusing his only son of being worthless. Scott getting bitten because of him. Lydia who nearly died because he wasn't clever enough, wasn't fast enough…

'No, you are not doing this to me, Derek.' He growled and entwined his hands, placing them on Derek's unmoving chest, pressing down thirty times, tears running down his cheeks. He pinched Derek's nose shut, tilted his head back and placed his warm, chapped lips, on cold, limp ones. He breathed two times.

His fingers went up to find a pulse again. Nothing. Again thirty compressions, two breaths. And repeat.

'Come on, you ass. Just take a breath will ya. I fucking hate you for ruining everything. But I still kept going. So, now it is your turn!' Stiles cried, emotions washing over him.

'You ruined everything for Scott and me. You fucking owe me an apology!' Stiles screamed and pounded his fist on Derek's chest, over and over again. He didn't care whether he broke ribs, whether he left bruises in his wake. He couldn't care less if Derek would wake up and rip his throat out with his teeth.
He had to wake up.

Stiles' strength waned and his breath was shaky, uncontrolled. He placed his head on Derek's chest, crying, leaking warm, salty tears onto Derek's cold and damp shirt.
'I need you. You are my friend…' Stiles whispered and closed his eyes, fingers clutching wet fabric, trying to hold onto the Alpha.

'Please.'

Stiles raised one last fist and brought it down with his last remaining strength. Then he remained as quiet as Derek.

There was a shudder underneath Stiles' head and Derek started to retch. Water spilled from blue-tinged lips, painful coughs wrecking his body. Stiles looked up in shock but quickly recovered and placed Derek on his side, so it would be easier for the man to get rid of the water clogging his lungs.

Stiles rubbed soothing circles over Derek's back, whispering nonsense. Derek's brow was furrowed, pain lines etched all over his face. After a minute but what felt like hours to Stiles, the heaving stopped and Derek was left shivering.

'Derek? Open your eyes for me, please.' Stiles said, voice shaky but feeling a whole lot stronger than before. Derek still wasn't out of the woods however and he needed to get the Alpha someplace warm and safe. His Jeep was parked right on top of the hill, he just had to make Derek get up.

'Derek?' he asked again, placing a warm hand on Derek's cheek. 'Hey buddy, we need to get up.'

Derek's eyelids fluttered and slowly his eyes opened, albeit lethargically.
The look in his eyes was of pure confusion; they wandered all over the area. From the snow covering the ground, to the frozen lake and the sleece on his sleeves. His eyes found Stiles' face last.

'Stiles?' he whispered, voice hoarse and filled with pain and exhaustion.

'Yeah buddy it's me. Look, I need you to get up. We have to leave now, unless you want to turn into Frosty the Snowman.' Stiles jibed, and pulled at Derek's arm.

The older man shakily propped himself up on his elbow and with a whole lot of help from Stiles, he managed to sit up. His head was swimming and the whole world was caught in a slow spin.

'Now…on your feet. I know you can do it.' Stiles encouraged, looping an arm around his shoulders, supporting most of Derek's weight. The man tried to oblige but really, everything was so fuzzy. His legs didn't want to cooperate and his knees refused to lock.

'Stiles…I-I can't…' he muttered, leaning his head against the side of Stiles' face.

'Yes, you can and you will. We have to…' The last sentence was whispered. It was getting colder by the second, and Derek's trembling was getting worse. Not to mention that the shivering was draining him from the strength he needed.

Slowly and very unsteady they made their way up the little slope. Derek's feet were often tripping over patches of ice and his lips had turned blue again. This time it wasn't from the lack of oxygen but from the cold.

Stiles could cry when he saw his precious blue Jeep shining in the moonlight.
'A few steps more.' He whispered more to himself than to Derek.

Derek shuddered all of a sudden. Stiles frowned.
'Derek?' he peaked at Derek's face which was almost hidden from his sight.

'Stiles…I…' the man muttered and then promptly passed out, having used all of his strength. Poor Stiles couldn't quite hold the large man up and crashed to the ground, painfully spraining his right ankle as he tried to catch himself.

'Shit.' He spat and checked the man over.

Derek was out cold. No, freezing. He was out freezing, Stiles bitterly thought.

The teenager got back up and grabbed Derek underneath his armpits, dragging him towards the car.

'From now on, I'll never ever forget my cellphone again.' Stiles whimpered, mentally chastising himself. He grabbed his keys and opened the backseat door, lifting, half dragging Derek in. He considered himself lucky that he always brought an old quilt along. He draped it over Derek, made sure he was still breathing, dashed over to the driver's seat and started the car. He cranked the heater up as high as he could and sped down the road, back home.

Once Derek was lying in his bed, after having to drag him upstairs with a sprained ankle, Stiles grabbed as much blankets as he could find and cranked the heating on. The guy was severely undercooled and needed some heating up. It was a shame they didn't have a fireplace. It'd be so much easier. Stiles peeled the wet clothing from Derek's icy body, ignoring the awkwardness and dropped the damp clothes on a heap next to the bed. He grabbed a pair of dry sweatpants and dressed Derek in it, with some difficulty.

Derek was still shivering profusely, his teeth audibly rattling and worrying Stiles a lot.
Stiles opened his laptop and quickly tapped the word 'hypothermia' in the search bar.
His eyes sped down the paragraphs.

'Hypothermia is a medical emergency that occurs when the body loses heat faster than it can produce heat, causing a dangerously low body temperature. When body temperature passes below 35 degrees Celsius, the heart, nervous system and other organs can't function properly. Left untreated, hypothermia can eventually lead to complete failure of the heart and respiratory system and death.'

Stiles eyes quickly shot to Derek, who was thankfully still breathing, before he focused back onto the webpage.

'First-aid care:
Move the person out of the cold: check
Remove wet clothing: check
Cover the person with blankets: double check
Monitor breathing,'
Stiles' eyes darted once more to Derek, satisfied with the shaky breathing pattern.

'Provide warm beverages when the person is alert and able to swallow: not quite
Share body heat.'

'What?'

'Oh…Oh God…Derek's going to kill me…' Stiles flipped through one more site but it too said to share body heat. Apparently this was most effective.

So, Stiles did what he had to do, in order to save his friend from turning into an ice cube. No Stiles. This was not the time for jokes. The teenage boy stripped out of his jeans, sneakers and shirt and crawled next to Derek, clad in nothing but his underwear.

'Okay, here goes nothing.' Stiles muttered and slid next to the werewolf, wrapping his arms around Derek's frame. Damn, this guy really was cold. He manoeuvred Derek this way so that the man was lying on his side and Stiles held him, nuzzling his face in the Alpha's neck.

A maelstrom of thoughts spun through Stiles' head, all considering about how awkward this was and what was going to happen after all of this. Stiles checked Derek's breathing every ten minutes and finally fell asleep when Derek's body started to relax and his breathing evened out.

When Stiles woke up, Derek was still fast asleep. His lips were thankfully back their normal colour and the man seemed at ease. Stiles didn't feel like moving however and watched how snowflakes drizzled down the sky outside. One glance at his alarm clock told him it was 8 am. He was just grateful it was weekend. He stayed like that, holding Derek's body and was about to doze off again when Derek woke up with a start. He gasped for breath and nearly shot upright, wasn't it for the fact that his energy was drained by last night's ordeal.

'Take it easy, Derek. You are safe.' Stiles said and scooted over to the side, giving Derek some space. The man looked around, taking in everything and then it dawned on him.
'I am…at your place, in your bed and…what the hell Stiles? Are you naked?' the man panicked and looked at Stiles' bare torso.

Stiles merely rolled his eyes and got out of the bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a hoody.

'You know, for the guy who just had his ass saved, you surely aren't grateful.' He said bitterly and almost as cold as the water that had threatened to drown Derek.

Derek looked at him and seemed to mull this over. Then it all came back to him.
'The Alpha! The lake! I was drowning, I…You got me out? How?'

Stiles sat back onto his bed and looked at Derek.
'I got a call from Scott saying you were in trouble and that he was going after you but needed some back up. So I followed him towards the lake and then we saw you fighting the Alpha, but obviously losing. When the Alpha tossed you into the water, Scott ran down and went after him, leaving me with your water-logged butt.' Stiles said.

Derek narrowed his eyes, but they softened as they noticed Stiles' trembling hands.
'You saved me.' He acquiesced.

'I…I almost didn't. You weren't breathing…' Stiles whispered and he looked away.
'You know, I thought I had lost you. I gave up.'

A large hand grabbed his and two green eyes looked at him in earnest.

'Stiles, you saved my life. And this is not the first time you did so. I guess we should take more recognition in what you do for us.'

There was a silence where Stiles tried to hold back his tears.

'Thank you.'

And that did it, the dam broke and Stiles huddled in on himself, tears streaming down his face. He had almost lost one of his best friends, just like he had lost his mother, just like his father had lost almost ten years of his life. All the shit that had been going down with the werewolves, the Kanima, Gerard…It was just too much at the moment. And everything had seemed to settle down until the Alpha pack happened and Derek's almost death.

He started rocking back and forth, ashamed for his breakdown in front of the werewolf. Surely Derek would think lowly of him again, all respect he had gained would be lost again because he was crying like a little girl.

Then two strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a hug.
'It's okay Stiles, I'm here. I'm okay.' Derek whispered and placed his chin on Stiles' head, staring at the wall intently, trying not to give in either. Stiles was the one who needed reassurance now.

He felt Stiles nod and the two of them sat like that until Stiles' eyes had already dried up and his breathing evened out. Derek carefully laid him back in bed, crawling next to him, needing Stiles' presence as much as the boy needed his at the moment. Tomorrow would be better.

.:.

'Dude, I really thought werewolves couldn't freeze, with the body heat and all.' Stiles said, two weeks after the events.
The two of them were sitting on the couch, watching the new Star Trek movie. Stiles had found out that Derek actually was a closet-geek.

'Really, Stiles? Just because some author writes it, doesn't mean it's true.' Derek commented, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Stiles frowned.

'Are you talking about Twilight?'

'Aren't you?'

'No?'

There was a silence and a red blush crept over Derek's face.

'No way…did you watch Twilight?'

Suddenly Derek found his hands very interesting. Stiles couldn't contain his laughter and burst out into a hysterical laughing fit.

'Cora made me okay?' Derek said and glared at Stiles. The latter wiped a tear away and looked sincerely at Derek.

'It's okay, dude, me too.' Stiles said and patted Derek's arm.

'Let me guess: Lydia?'

Stiles nodded sadly but had a grin plastered on his face. This was their dirty little secret. And when Allison made Scott watch the entire saga the both of them couldn't help it but crack up. And poor Scott never knew why.