Holy long chapter, Batman! This one got away from me! Jeez louise! Anyhoo, I was ill AGAIN for my day off, so I spent it in bed with soup and tea, writing pretty much constantly all day. I banged out three massive chapters in one go, so they're all ready to go. I'll try to space them out with a coupla days in between though, cause I don't wanna bombard y'all with loads all in one go. Anyhoo, enjoy!
Stiles stared helplessly at the three unconscious bodies on the floor around him. He spared only a passing glance at Peter, only really checking that the man was still lying bruised and still in a pile of plaster and dirt, before turning his attention back to the two people he actually cared about. Derek had toppled sideways to lie next to Lydia, their hands reaching out to each other, almost touching. Stiles couldn't help but think of Romeo and Juliet as he gazed upon the scene before him. Derek was still wearing the bruises and scratches of his fight with Peter, the wounds no longer healing due to how much blood he had given Lydia. While his wounds seemed to stand out in stark contrast to the unnatural pale of his skin, Lydia's seemed to fade into the sudden rosiness that tinted her flesh. Stiles felt a helpless wave of panic engulf him as the adrenaline he'd been running on wore off, and he realised the predicament he was in. He fought to control his breathing as he leaned forward to press the back of his hand against Lydia's flushed forehead. He couldn't believe how hot she felt against his hand, compared to the cold porcelain she'd been a few minutes ago.
Derek in contrast, looked paler than he'd ever seen him, and he groaned slightly when Stiles tentatively reached out to prod him. He was worried about being too intimate with the sleeping wolf, in case he suddenly woke up to find Stiles hovering over him, his hands all over him. His mind raced as he tried to work out what to do. He couldn't see any way out of the situation and threw his head in his hands, willing his overactive mind to figure something out. He wanted to call his dad, like a child, but the thought of having to explain it all was mindboggling. Besides, knowing any of this stuff would make him even more of a target than he already was and he couldn't risk that. He needed someone he trusted, someone who already knew about all this werewolf stuff - Melissa McCall! He would call her. He couldn't think of anyone else he could trust with any of this.
10 minutes later, he heard the familiar sound of the minivan pulling up outside the house. He had spent the time sitting, panicking, willing himself not to hyperventilate. Not one of the three had woken or even stirred in that time and he felt like the most useless person who ever lived, holding Lydia's hand pathetically. He sprang up, hunching his shoulders, not knowing what to say when Mrs McCall came rushing through the door, gasping as she looked around the room.
"Stiles?! Oh my god! What happened here? Your message said... " Her voice trailed off as her eyes landed on Lydia, lying prone in the huge pool of blood.
Her nurse training kicked in and her instincts took over as she dropped down next to Lydia, her hands expertly feeling for a pulse. Stiles stood back helplessly as she took over, hurrying around Lydia, propping her into the recovery position.
"What happened, Stiles? I don't..." Melissa was at a loss for words, now she was content that Lydia was alive. She completely ignored the other two unconscious figures, focusing all her attention on the tiny, blood covered redhead in the centre of the room.
Stiles hesitated, before Melissa shot him a look that told him not to lie to her. The words just tumbled out of him as he tried to explain everything that he knew, which didn't feel like much. Melissa was silent, her expression unreadable as she listened to him.
"And so Derek hooked up this tube thing and gave her his blood and she seemed to get better like, straight away, but I think he gave her too much, because he like, fainted or something."
"I did not FAINT," a small, groaning voice said from the floor. He was still lying down, shuffling groggily where he lay. Melissa dropped down next to him, taking his face in her hands.
"Derek? Can you hear me?"
His eyes were drooping heavily, and he murmured before slumping back down to the floor again.
"Has he... Has he turned her into one of Them?" She whispered, her voice dripping with ill disguised disgust.
"I don't know. I don't think so. Lydia's different. She's... immune."
Melissa took a deep breath, considering this new piece of information. She was taking this all very well, considering she'd had only found out that werewolves existed a few short months ago. Stiles knew from Scott that she had pushed him away at first, before starting to tentatively ask questions and start to piece together her own view on the whole thing. Not for the first time, Stiles was reminded just how cool Melissa McCall was, as she stared long and hard at the prone red head on the floor. Stiles hoped she was figuring out a plan to get them out of this.
"Right, well, as long as she's... human," she said the word like she still found it somewhat ridiculous to think of anyone as anything other than human, "we can just take her to the hospital."
Stiles stared at her for a moment, not sure what to say. In all the drama, she must had forgotten about Derek.
"But," his eyes flitted to the slightly stirring man on the floor, "what about Derek?"
Her eyes grew steely as she got her phone out.
"What about Derek?" Her voice was hard.
"He's... He's not looking too good. We can't just leave him here... Especially with him." He flicked his head towards Peter, who was still lying in the corner. Stiles grew more and more convinced that he wouldn't be waking up any time soon. He found himself not caring.
"My concern here is Lydia. Her pulse is there but still fairly weak. Whatever Derek did, he seems to have kept her stable for now, but she needs to go to hospital, Stiles. I... I don't know what to do with Derek."
She looked conflicted as she ran her hand through her wild curls, causing them to stick up in all directions. Her eyes were wide and guilt was written all over her face. Stiles knew she wasn't trying to be callous in abandoning Derek. He understood the predicament he had landed her in. If he was honest, his first instinct was to protect Lydia aswell, but Derek was... Well, Derek was Derek. They weren't quite friends, but Derek had put his life on the line for Stiles countless times and never really asked for anything in return. Maybe his werewolf physiology would heal him, but maybe it wouldn't, and Stiles couldn't risk the thought of Derek waking up, alone with Peter on the dusty floor of the house that was so full of memories. Or worse, not waking up at all.
He'd never disagreed with Melissa before. He liked the woman and had pretty much grown up at her house. He hesitated to think of her as replacement mom, because he had a mom, she just wasn't around, but, for want of a better expression, that's what she was. She'd taken care of him when his dad was too busy with work, kept him supplied with fish sticks and curly fries through his growing years and kissed his grazes better when he'd fallen down playing in their yard. He wasn't sure how to disagree with her, but he had to try.
"Mrs M, we can't just leave him here. Anything could happen to him."
Melissa looked at him, exasperated before he continued, his voice soft.
"I know we have to get Lydia to hospital, but Derek's my friend too. We have to help him."
Melissa huffed out a breath, her eyes flitting to both the unconscious people on the floor.
"I know," she said sadly. She had known it all along. "I just don't know what to do. We can't just take him to the hospital. Can we?"
Her eyes lit up with a sudden idea.
"Deacon!" She scrambled for her phone.
"What? How do you even know Deacon?"
"Scott sent me to him. He wasn't... He wasn't that knowledgeable about any of it, and he thought Deacon might be able to answer more of my questions." Stiles suppressed a smile. Scott wasn't that knowledgeable about ANYTHING. And since he'd pushed Derek's offers of the pack and with it, all the answers away, he was especially useless when it came to werewolf stuff.
Stiles was silent as she dialled and waited for the man to pick up. While he still found Deacon kinda creepy, he couldn't help but feel a lot calmer now the man was involved. Derek shifted and murmured slightly, his hand sliding slightly closer to Lydia's, and Stiles wondered who the tiny pang of jealousy he felt was directed at. There was no time for jealousy now though, as Melissa calmly explained that Deacon had to come to the house quickly - "Werewolf business" - she whispered conspiratorially and Stiles wanted to laugh. He felt himself relax slightly at the thought of Deacon being on his way. No matter what problem they'd taken to Deacon, he'd always been able to help them. No doubt that between his calm demeanour and Melissa's slightly frantic "mom-mode", they would have the situation fixed in no time.
Derek slowly let his eyes blink open. His whole body ached, his senses felt dulled and for once, he felt weak. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be human. He wondered how they could stand it. His mind flashed back to vague memories of being dragged through his house and through stark hospital corridors. Warm hazel eyes and wild dark curls swam through his mind but he couldn't make sense of them. He tried to sit up, but he felt woozy.
"Whoa there, big guy." Stiles was sitting next to him, and they seemed to be in a small, darkened hospital room. Across from him, two men were talking in hushed, worried tones. He recognised one as the mysterious vet, Deacon, the man who had woken him up after Lydia had resurrected Peter. The other man was younger, dark scruffy hair flopping across his face. He was wearing blue hospital scrubs and was pouring over a chart thoughtfully. They both looked up when Stiles spoke.
"Ah. There you are. Welcome back," said Deacon, calmly. The other man flashed him a broad smile.
"What? What happened?" Derek's voice sounded slurred and distorted to his own ears.
"Well, you did a very stupid, very noble thing. And you nearly died." He said, simply.
"This is my colleague, Dr Shepherd. He works here at the hospital, specialising in... 'special' cases, like yours and Lydia's."
Derek perked up at the mention of her name, suddenly trying to stand but sinking back down when a wave of dizziness washed over him.
"Lydia! Where is she?"
It was Stiles who piped up this time.
"Whoa. She's fine. Well, she's gonna be. Thanks to you," he said, almost shyly. He realised that Stiles was sitting much too close to him, their thighs pressed against each other, their shoulders bumping. He should mind, but he felt reassured and decided not to question it too much. He couldn't remember feeling this comforted since... before the fire.
"How do you feel?" Dr Shepherd spoke for the first time, sounding slightly southern. His mind idly wondered if there were many wolves in the south. He couldn't imagine many werewolves running around the streets of Texas.
"Like shit," he replied, honestly. He didn't swear often. To be honest, he didn't even speak often, so he kept his curse words for then he really meant them. Stiles and Dr Shepherd laughed and even Deacon smirked.
"I'm not surprised. You're gonna feel a bit dizzy for a few hours. You gave her a lot of your blood."
He stepped towards Derek, his hands outstretched in mock surrender as Derek tensed.
"Ok, ok. I just wanna check you out." He took out his stethoscope and pressed it against Derek's hard chest. Derek would have normally objected at being treated like an invalid, but he was too exhausted to care.
"Brilliant. Your heartbeat's starting to return to normal. Looks like you're on the mend already!" The man was relentlessly cheery and it made Derek's teeth grind together.
Deacon spoke again, his voice quiet and calm.
"Where did you learn to do that? The transfusion?"
"My mother. She was the healer of the pack." He said, reluctantly. Stiles stared at him. He had never heard Derek talk about his family and he could see from the tension in the man's jaw that it was hard for him. He didn't say anymore and a tense silence settled over the room.
"Well, she taught you well. You saved that girl's life." Dr Shepherd spoke now, his cheery voice soft and quiet now. Derek nodded at him, acknowledging his words silently.
The door creaking open broke the awkward silence in the room. Melissa McCall slipped inside, closing the door quickly behind her.
"Hello Derek," she said tightly, her words coming out too formal to be truly sincere. "Glad to see you're feeling better."
She immediately turned her attention to the other people in the room.
"Ok, everything's going ok so far. Everyone know their part?" The other three nodded while Derek just looked dumbstruck.
"Stiles, can you get Derek up to speed please? Jack, here's the stuff you asked for." She handed Dr Shepherd, or Jack as she rather familiarly referred to him, a pile of bandages.
Jack moved to sit next to Derek and starting unravelling the spool of gauze.
"May I?" He paused, uncertain but Derek was too confused to really care what he was doing and gave him a small nod. The man turned Derek's head so he was facing away from him and started cutting a square of bandage. From his new position, Derek had no choice but to stare Stiles straight in the face. He shot him an awkward look that said he didn't know where to begin.
"So, do you remember anything?"
"Not really. I... I think I blacked out? And then someone was dragging me out of the house. I remember you being there." He nodded his head at Melissa, who smiled tightly at him. He could smell the fear coming off her, but was grateful she was being civil with him. He knew he had given people more than a few reasons to fear him, and with the recent revelation that her son was one of his kind, he knew it was hard to accept that they were anything more than monsters. It meant a lot that she was trying to get along with him.
"Well, you blacked out and I kinda freaked out and called Mrs M, who called Deacon and-"
"Stiles! The abridged version please. The police are waiting outside." Melissa looked a bit frazzled and Derek realised she must be putting her job on the line to protect them all.
"OK, OK." Stiles picked up the pace, the words tumbling out with his usual speed. "Well, Deacon called his contact, Jack, and we brought you guys here. We've come up with a story to cover for everything. You wont have to tell the police much. Your face isn't healing cause of how much blood you lost so the whole thing seems even more believable."
"What do you want me to say?" Derek said, wearily. "And did I hit my head? I don't remember hitting my head."
"No! It's all part of the story. Genius, right?" Stiles said, excitedly. Derek wanted to roll his eyes at how excited he was about the whole thing. He seemed to think the whole thing was a game.
"So, you and Lydia were on your way to the dance-"
"Together? No, no, no." Derek interrupted. "Yeah, that's not gonna work for me."
"It's all worked out now Derek. There's no time to change it now, and besides, how else would we explain the dress? She was just strolling around in a ball gown? Everyone in town already thinks you're together so it all makes sense."
Derek sighed heavily, silently cursing Lydia for dragging him into all this. A tiny part of him couldn't help but think that the whole thing would have never happened without her little white lie.
"Ok, so we were heading to the dance...?" He said, sounding exhausted already.
"Right, and you were attacked. You didn't see who it was cause you were hit on the head and knocked out and Lydia got stabbed and you both nearly died and it's all very tragic and romantic and people are gonna love it." Stiles blurted out, his words coming out in one long, breathless sentence. Jack finished applying the bandage to the perfectly fine patch of head, sitting back to admire his handiwork.
"No-one's going to believe that."
"Yes. They will. I'm a witness." He announced, proudly. "And Dr Shepherd patched Lydia up enough to make the whole thing work and they're so understaffed here that no-one's noticed anything different yet. And what are they gonna do? Check under the bandage? If we say you got hit on the head, you got hit on the head. It's gonna work. Trust me."
Derek didn't trust Stiles, not really, but he weirdly trusted Deacon for some unknown reason and the man was giving him a reassuring look. Everyone was staring at him expectantly and he shifted uncomfortably their collective gaze.
"Ok then." He tried to stand, his knees buckling under him.
Melissa caught him, her instincts to protect someone who needed help kicking in. She wrapped an arm awkwardly around his waist, flashing him a sheepish chuckle as her hand found his hard, toned abs.
"Take it easy, ok? You're not 100% yet." Derek leaned heavily against her, feeling guilty for putting so much weight on the small woman but not being able to help it. She smelled like Scott, and less like fear now that he was dozily resting against her, fairly helplessly.
Stiles sprang forward to clumsily take some of the weight off the tiny woman.
"I wanna see her." Derek slurred.
"She's not awake yet. She had some kind of episode so they put her under." Melissa supplied.
"I don't care. I just wanna see her, then I'll tell them whatever you want."
They all exchanged uneasy looks but, a few minutes later, Derek was being helped into Lydia's room by Melissa and Stiles, while Deacon and Jack finalised Lydia's phony chart. They all tried not to think about fraudulent it was to deliberately falsify medical documents. Stiles wanted to believe that Deacon and Jack knew what they were doing - He guessed it was not their first time covering up an incident of this nature, since they didn't seem too fazed by the whole thing.
Derek had looked incredibly tired as he gazed upon Lydia's pale visage, taking in the bruises forming all over her arms, the blood stained bandage peeking out from her hospital gown and his eyes following the wires to the many machines she was hooked up to. He sat down next to her, tenderly letting his hand touch hers for a second, before pulling away from her, scared to even touch her. Now he had seen her, the last dregs of adrenaline that were keeping him on his feet drained away and he felt suddenly exhausted. A tiny part of him almost hadn't believed that was ok, and now he had seen for himself that she was alright, he felt all the fight leave him and fatigue set in. The world blurred and he struggled to stay upright in his seat.
He heard Mrs McCall telling Stiles to take him home, and he tried to argue, his voice sounding slurred to his own ears.
"I'm gonna stay."
Melissa argued, telling Stiles that Derek was his friend. He wanted to disagree, to argue that he barely knew the boy. He'd just shoved him against a few walls, threatened him a bit and drove him home when he was drunk one time. Surely that didn't make them friends? Did it? He didn't have time to think about it, as he was being pulled onto his feet by the stronger-than-he-looked Stiles.
They were out in the corridor, Derek leaning heavily against Stiles, hating how weak he felt when he heard a voice behind them.
"Derek Hale?"
Stiles spun them round to see a man he recognised as one of his dad's deputies standing there, flashing his badge at them.
"We'd like to ask you some questions."
"He's got a concussion." Stiles blurted out, his words coming out too loud and too fast. Derek scowled at him and tried to push him away slightly to stand by himself. He was a terrible liar.
"I'm aware of that, but we'll still need to ask to come down to the station with us." The man looked insistent and Derek knew from the look on his face that their lie wasn't going to work.
"What's going on here?" A shrill, tired voice rang out down the corridor.
They all turned to look as a smart woman with a short auburn bob came sweeping down the corridor. Derek didn't recognise her, but he felt Stiles relax next to him.
"Ma'am. We were just taking Mr Hale down to the station."
"So I heard. And what gives you the right to do that? He's injured! He can answer your questions when he's feeling better." Derek had no idea who this woman was, but she spoke with an authority that made Derek inclined to like her. Her confidence didn't seem to work on the young, tired looking officer in front of them.
"No, actually, Mrs Martin. He's going to have to come with us now. I'm afraid we have some questions about his relationship with your daughter."
He suddenly recognised that determined look. He had seen it flash over Lydia's face several times, and now, as he looked at the small woman in front of him, he could see the resemblance between them.
"His relationship? What difference does that make? They've been attacked! You should be out there, trying to find who did this to them!"
The officer's expression was weary as he held his hands up, trying to placate the angry woman in front of him.
"Rest assured, we have our best working on it. As far as we can tell, this was just a random mugging that got out of hand. We're doing our best, Mrs Martin. But right now, we'd like to ask Mr Hale some questions about the nature of his relationship with your daughter."
"The nature of his relationship?" She echoed back to him, incredulous. Derek felt Stiles stiffen next to him and they both realised the glaringly obvious hole in their plan. He was older, ILLEGALLY older.
"Well, I don't see how that matters. He's her boyfriend. I knew exactly who she was going to the dance with."
"And you're aware that Mr Hale is nearly 7 years your daughter's senior?" His tone was judgemental and Stiles took a tiny step back with Derek, as if they could just sneak away from the awkward argument threatening to erupt in the hospital corridor. Mrs Martin bristled at his words, but a moment of realisation flashed across her face. Stiles wondered if she'd actually known how much older Derek was.
"Yes!" She shot back, defensively.
The officer sighed, obviously bored at having to deal with the whole thing.
He moved to take Derek's arm in a firm grip. Derek said nothing, just concentrated on staying upright as he was pulled away from the supportive, reassuring figure of Stiles.
"This is ridiculous. I'm her mother."
"I understand that, ma'am, but our hands are tied."
"He nearly died for her! This is absurd."
"Mrs Martin, I need you to calm down. We have no choice."
Mrs Martin and Stiles could only stand and watch in stunned silence as Derek was led away on stumbling feet by the determined officer.
"Well, that went better in my head." Stiles said.
"Curse words"? Ha! Look at me trying to be all American. People always seem to use the term "curse words" on American TV, where over here in the UK we don't bother with all that nonsense. We just bring out "You wankaaaa!" without any bother. Yes, btw, I'm English. That's why sometimes my spellings might be a little bit... wrong to any americans. I do try and keep things fairly American. After all, it is an American show. While I refuse to spell colour as "color", I do try to adhere to things like "panties", "garbage" etc. Let me know if anything seems glaringly British. I am trying though. :)
I'm also hoping the way I'm dealing with the law over there is consistent? Over here, you gotta be 16 to have sex, but I'm pretty sure it's over 18 in most states in America. I would say it's more something that's 'frowned upon' over here, rather than being a huuuge legal issue, but I dunno how strict the laws over there are? I'm sure it wouldn't be quite this serious, but I assume a 24 and a 17 year old would still raise some questions, especially a mysterious 24 year old recluse who was once accused of murder. Once again, just go with me on these things, ok? Thanks!
Also, yes, the doctor is called Jack Shepherd, and if you're wondering, yes, I am picturing him as Jack from Lost. In my head, he looks like the young, scruffy Jack from the flashback episode where he first meets Sarah, when he's all young and hopeful. I don't know why I thought of him.. I just love him.
Thanks again to all my lovely reviewers! I heart you guys! Please keep any reviews, ideas or suggestions coming! I love hearing it all! You guys keep me writing, even when I write the characters into an awkward situation that I can't get them out of! It's been SO hard, working out how to tie up all the loose ends from the attack, but your reviews have kept me encouraged to work it all out and man up and write it all. Thanks!
More to come in probably about a day.
xxx