Derek really, really hated hospital waiting rooms. They were too familiar, too helpless and monotonous. He wanted to detach; to just slip into the depths of his subconscious and pretend that done of this was happening. Stiles was still alive. That was what the doctor said. He was alive. Derek wanted more. He wanted to know that Stiles was fine or great or maybe sitting up in bed drinking coffee and requesting to talk to him. Still, Stiles was alive. Only minutes earlier it had almost been over. His heart had stopped. He was gone. Lydia screamed for him. Derek glanced over at Lydia. She was leaning against Scott's shoulder, exhausted. Derek couldn't stop picturing the look in her eyes after she'd let out that terrible scream and fallen to her knees. Derek had wanted to go help her up but he couldn't seem to tell his body what to do. He had been frozen to his spot on the grass, stunned. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He couldn't even cry. The sheriff had his head in his hands but he made no noise. Scott looked just as paralyzed as Derek felt, but he found a way to snap out of it and guide Lydia to her feet. And Lydia… Lydia's eyes… Derek had to force himself to look away from her. He couldn't handle it. He just stood there, defeated until he just barely processed Scott violently shaking him by the shoulders and shouting into his ear.
"DEREK! Derek. Listen. Listen-" Derek tuned out the background noise around him and just focused on Stiles until he heard what Scott was referring to: a heartbeat. Then another and another. The EMT's were shouting but Derek couldn't understand what they were saying. All he could hear was Stiles heartbeat. Lydia was weeping, Scott was holding her, and the sheriff looked like he'd just finished having a heart attack. Derek swayed and suddenly sat down on the grass, adrenaline completely gone. He could see Scott looking at him with concern, but he only focused on the sound of that beautiful heartbeat still going.
Scott's anxious voice brought Derek back to the present of the brightly lit waiting area. "He's going to be ok, right?" Derek couldn't tell who he was directing the question toward. The sheriff looked up but he didn't respond. Lydia just buried her head into Scott's shoulder. Scott looked to Derek, desperate. Derek spoke with far more conviction than he felt.
"Hey, we've been here before, remember? He'll be fine. Absolutely fine."
Scott smiled sadly. "Thanks Derek." Derek knew that he was referring to more than just the encouragement, but he couldn't help but think that he really didn't deserve Scott's gratitude.
Lydia suddenly spoke for the first time since arriving at the hospital. "He's right, you guys. Stiles is still here. He's alive. It's going to be fine." The new look in her eyes revealed that she wasn't only speaking as an optimist, but as a banshee.
Derek practically shoved Scott aside to give her a hug, and the sheriff finally smiled with relief. Scott was beaming with laughter as he pushed Derek away and slid back into his seat.
"Dude, I know you and Stiles have no concept of personal space but I do, and no offense but you could really use a shower." Derek laughed and rolled his eyes.
"I wish we could go see him." The others nodded in agreement. The sheriff glanced up at the front desk, impatient for some news. Scott and Lydia tried to distract themselves by watching the television on the wall. Derek finally relaxed for the first time since he woke up in the broken jeep.