Stiles lamented sanity. Surely his grasp on sanity has slipped by now. He's moved past the yawning, slow-reacting, stage. He managed to navigate the delirious laughter and violent mood swings of the truly exhausted stage. Now, with an entire body weighing him down like lead and what was most likely shredded muscles in his shoulder and chest, Stiles was just numb.

The Bestiary stared back at him from the computer screen. He pretty much had to pry it from Derek's very alive, clawed hands. He managed to make the Alpha an email, sending him the file, but he didn't know what the wolf was going to make of it. He had been staring at the same page for hours, scouring sites on Greek, Old English, Welsh, even entertained Sanskrit and Sumerian, but nothing seemed to jump out at him in terms of translation. His legs were cramping terribly from their rapid bouncing over the past several hours, but he couldn't stop. The last time he stopped, he drifted to sleep, both slamming his head on the desk and hearing tortured cries in his ears. He knew he would look like shit by the time he went back to school, but he really couldn't think of anything better to do, so self-induced psychosis it was.

His eyes burned as he read the same lines over and over again. He was missing something here. It was like a kernel of information, deep in his brain, telling him how to figure this out, but all he could think about was the searing pain in his shoulder and the now-empty pot of coffee sitting on his desk.

"I'm not exactly an expert on humans." A deep voice broke through the quiet, causing Stiles to jump wildly with a loud curse. When he turned to glare at Derek, the Alpha had the nerve to smirk. "But I believe they require at least eight hours of sleep. It can't be a good sign if even I can tell you're running on empty."

Stiles scoffed, rubbing the ache from his eyes. "I'm not on empty. There's probably about three energy drinks and a pot of coffee on my stomach. I would name off some food, but I honestly can't tell you when I last ate." He winced as he spun the chair fully to face the wolf. "We have got to stop meeting like this. Again, you can text me."

Derek stood stiffly by the open window, which wasn't open a minute ago thank you very much, his jaw firm as he frowned. "I wanted to see how you've come along on the Bestiary."

Stiles nodded, leaning back to glare at the current bane of his existence. "I would have texted back that it's not a Bestiary, but instead a fairytale about a little man named Jack Shit. I can't even pin down this language. I figured it was one of the biggies of history, but I'm missing something." He turned back to the desk, leaning heavily on his propped arms. "This whole no-sleep thing is messing with my head."

He could hear Derek huff in annoyance. "It's only 3am. Surely you have stayed up later than this before. Even with what happened tonight, you shouldn't be this run down." There was a tense pause and Stiles cringed. "Unless this isn't the first night."

Stiles bit back a swear as he straightened, focusing as hard as he could on the screen. The letters in front of him looped and swirled, making his vision a tangled mess. He barely, barely, held back the urge to punch the screen.

He heard the heavy footfalls of Derek's boots on the carpeted floor as he came closer. "How long have you been awake?"

Stiles shook his head, scrolling to the next page. "I'm not sure. Time is weird right now."

"Stiles," Derek's voice was hard, firm. The voice was that of an Alpha addressing his pack. It made Stiles shift uncomfortably, both disturbed and intrigued by the sound. "How long?"

Stiles yawned, jaw aching and lips pulling uncomfortably as he exhaled. It felt like ages before it was over, and his head felt like it was vibrating.

The words came out of his mouth, half-dazed. "When did that guy at the shop get killed?"

"You can't be serious!" Derek spat, still using his Alpha voice.

Stiles clenched his fists, "You know, I'm not one of your pound puppies, okay? You can stop talking down to me like I'm one of yours! What I do with my life is nobody else's business!"

"It is if it gets you killed. In case you don't remember, there's a wild lizard-creature out there ready to kill you. It almost succeeded, twice." Stiles dropped his gaze, staring instead at his fingers on the desk. "It is our responsibility to destroy this thing. You may not be in my pack, but you're still my responsibility. I know what this thing is capable of. You don't."

Stiles' eyes shot up to meet Derek's, his hazy glare piercing the Alpha. "You sure about that?!" He spat, angling himself to half-face Derek. "You seemed to be pretty interested in what I knew about that thing when you had Erica drag me to the pool! I'm going to safely assume you didn't tell her to pull the Poison Ivy routine, because considering who crashed in my bed the other night, I highly doubt that you wanted Elle-in-the-Woods to get cuddly with me."

Derek stiffened, eyes briefly flashing red.

Stiles shrugged, throwing up his hands. "No judgement there, but I always thought wolves were a tad territorial."

"What happened the other night—"

"Is not worth the self-flagellation. I meant what I said. You need me, I'm here, but you don't get to talk down to me as if I'm some naïve idiot." The room fell quiet again, but Derek could see Stiles slowly curl in on himself, looking smaller and smaller by the second. When he looked up at the Alpha, his eyes suddenly seemed so much darker and sunken in than before.

"I always thought the worst way to die would be getting smothered, buried alive, drowning, whatever. That feeling of helplessness as you're trapped under something or someone. I was wrong." The look in his eyes were void, empty, as he looked anywhere but at Derek. "There was venom on the door to the main office. I didn't think anything of it, just wiped it off, said it was gross. Then next thing I know, I'm paralyzed face down on the floor. The kanima attacked the shop guy, paralyzing him. He fell under the lift. He could see me. I could see him. Then the lift started coming down. He knew I was paralyzed just like him, but that didn't stop him from yelling, begging, for help." Stiles exhaled shakily, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. "He kept screaming. I could tell when the lift started to crush him, because it got louder, painful. I wanted to close my eyes so badly, but for some reason, I couldn't. I saw his chest cave in."

He stopped, his face a sickly white. His hands flew over the desk, trying to find something, anything, to distract him. He picked up a pen, then threw it hard against the wall. He picked up a spiral notebook, folding it between his hands, before he slammed it down with a curse.

Derek watched silently from a few feet away, arms crossed, but his eyes soft.

Stiles' eyes were both dull and shining with tears. "All those crime shows people watch always like to show off some fancy arterial spray, but do you know what it looks like when the artery bursts? As if under great, consistent pressure?!" He sobbed briefly, coughing to cut it short. "If it wasn't for the glass door, it would have been all over me. I was like thirty feet away, dude! Then suddenly, lizard-face was right here," he put a wide hand within an inch of his face, "He stared dead into my eyes, and I knew. I fucking knew he wanted to kill me, but he stopped! His eyes saw me. Whoever, or whatever, it is, it recognized me!" He leaned on a hand, shaking fingers brushing against his bottom lip. "He stopped screaming only a minute or two before I heard sirens. I knew then he was dead."

He coughed wetly again, clearing the painful knot in his throat. "I was glad he was dead. He sounded like he was in so much pain. Before the cops burst in, I was able to move, to stand up, but for a minute, I was kind of sad that it didn't kill me too." He sniffed loudly. "I haven't been able to sleep or close my eyes since. I keep hearing his screams, seeing his blood."

"So when you held me above water for almost three hours?" Derek's voice was quiet, thoughtful.

Stiles laughed sardonically. "I have no idea, man." He massaged his pec, wincing at the sharp stab of pain. "Don't worry. I'm sore as hell. Still a lowly, pathetic human."

Suddenly, Derek was in front of Stiles, crouching low to meet his lowered gaze. "Look at me." He said. Stiles didn't acknowledge him. "Look at me." A smidge of authority crept into his tone, and Stiles responded, turning his hopeless gaze to the wolf. "There is not a human, or wolf, who could have gone the lengths you went to save me tonight. What you did was out of sheer will alone. Despite our fights, despite your own limitations, you made sure I survived. That is not pathetic or lowly." Derek paused to take a deep breath, his jaw briefly locking in place. "I wouldn't recognize any lowly human as Alpha."

"But why me?" Stiles whined, body limp with exhaustion.

Derek inhaled Stiles' scent, letting it fill him and breaking through his defenses. Stiles was in so much more danger than Derek originally thought. At any moment, they could have both drowned. Stiles could have easily gave up, collapsing under his own exhaustion. Instead, he treaded water for hours, holding up Derek's dead weight, which wasn't a small feat.

He never felt more proud of his Alpha, and he knew now why this human before him outranked him.

Without saying anything, he leaned forward, catching Stiles' lips with his own. The human froze under him, before eagerly responding. Stiles' hands flew to Derek's hair, holding tightly as Derek's arms looped around his waist. Stiles' scent surrounded them, making Derek's head spin as his tongue finally tasted him. He could taste the bitter edge of coffee, but underneath was a subtle crisp sweetness, like a mint. Derek pressed closer to Stiles as he chased the flavor.

Stiles whimpered, leaning closer to the Alpha wolf, but then pulled away with a yelp as he slipped from his desk chair, collapsing in a boneless heap.

Derek cradled Stiles close to him, sliding his stubbled jaw along his high cheekbones. "Alpha, please." He muttered, kissing his temple. "You need to sleep. So many people would be lost if they lost you."

"Doubt it." Stiles mumbled, leaning into Derek's embrace. His eyes were unfocused as they fought to stay open. "Just a pain in the ass. A burden."

Derek growled deep in his throat. "Don't say that. Never say that."

Stiles chuckled, drunk with exhaustion. "Fine. A pendejo."

Derek couldn't help but smirk. "I thought you failed Spanish."

Stiles giggled under his breath, but then his face screwed up in concentration before his eyes opened a fraction. "Fuck, that's it!"

"What?"

Stiles tried to sit up, but then fell back into Derek's chest with a huff. "The Bestiary," he slurred, body limp. "It's Latin. It was right there and I didn't see it."

"Didn't think ancient languages was an expertise of yours?" Derek snarked.

Stiles leaned his head on Derek's shoulder, making the wolf tense as his pale neck stretched enticingly under his mouth. He bit the inside of his cheek, a growl rumbling in his chest.

"Sleep, Alpha." He said instead. "I'll stay with you. Nothing can hurt you. Not even your thoughts."

Stiles smiled dopily, eyes finally staying closed. As each second passed, Stiles gradually relaxed against Derek. It seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, before Stiles tensed for a moment. "Such a good pup. 'Night." His voice was sleep-thick and Derek wasn't sure if he meant to say that, but it made his chest feel warm all the same.

"Good night, Alpha." He cradled Stiles for a few more moments, absently rubbing his cheek on what he could reach. Their combined scents made his wolf hum in contentment, the urge to just curl around his human and sleep the night, and the next day, away almost painful. Instead, he carefully lifted Stiles, carrying him over to his bed. He placed him on the bed, arranging him under the blankets, before crawling in beside him. He sat, leaning against the headboard, fingers carding through Stiles' short hair. Even in his sleep, Stiles winced as he moved his arm and shoulder. Derek wished that he had the power to take the pain away. A pain he was responsible for.

He then noticed the Bestiary still up on the computer, and Stiles' breakthrough. He stood up, walking over to the desk and scribbling a quick note, before returning to Stiles' side. He wasn't sure exactly how much of this night would stay with Stiles, but he made sure that one thing stuck. Something that could help them both. Something that could save this town, and at the same time, protect his Alpha.

The note read, It's in Latin. And somehow, he knew, Stiles would appreciate that it was signed by A Good Pup.