"Hey, Batman!"
Stiles looked up as Erica strutted into the room. The pack was close behind her, arms full of stuffed toys and balloons.
Scott had his common kicked puppy look. Allison had her arms wrapped around him; her eyes were filled with unshed tears. Erica was smiling, but it was too wide, too forced. Jackson was angrily whispering to Danny. Said teen was frowning and glancing sadly at Stiles. Lydia was biting the inside of her lip, looking everywhere but Stiles. Isaac was openly crying while Boyd was trying to comfort him.
Stiles skipped over all of them, his eyes landing on Derek. Derek. . . Derek looked. . . Derek looked pissed. Stiles felt his heart deflate. Stiles forced himself to smile at the pack.
"Hey guys."
Erica smiled and dropped her armful of gifts on a table in the corner of the room. The pack scooted all the way into the room, closer to the bed. Stiles absently scratched at his CVC line. Isaac winced as he looked at where the tubes disappeared into Stiles' body.
"Stiles. . . "
Scott whimpered again, Isaac let out a short yipping whine along with it. Stiles frowned at the pained noise the pack made. The ADHD teen gave the most convincing smile he could.
"Guys, it's okay. I-"
Stiles stopped short, face paling. He leaned forward, gagging into his hand. Boyd quickly placed a metal pale in his lap. Stiles shook as his body dry heaved and dispelled the little stomach acid he had. Lydia rushed forward and rubbed his back soothingly as Allison appeared with a glass of water. Stiles spat into the bowl before smiling weakly at the two girls.
"Thanks."
Stiles rinsed his mouth out a couple of times before taking a tentative sip. Almost as suddenly, a knot formed in his chest. He feared for a moment he was going to be sick again, but there was no nausea. Only a tight knot in his chest. Stiles looked up. Derek was gone. The knot tightened.
Derek was out the door the second Stiles got sick. He would not, could not sit there while a pack member was sick or hurt. He hated this, and there was nothing he could do about it. Derek stepped out the door and angrily stomped down the hall. He collapsed into one of the hard backed hospital chairs and sighed. An annoying knot tightened in his chest. Derek growled and his eyes flickered red. Of all the things to happen to Stiles, of ALL the things to happen.
There was nothing Derek could do for this. There was no Kanima or Hunters to fight. No wound to clamp down on. No freezing water to face for two hours. Derek was very familiar with the feeling of anger. It was his anchor, helped him keep in check the alpha in him. Right now, all he wanted to do was go and destroy everything. Anything to remove this stupid knot from his chest, anything to make Stiles better. Derek snapped out of his thoughts as someone dropped down into the chair next to him.
John Stilinski was a little beyond startled when he saw Derek Hale sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair. John had gone off to get a sludgy coffee from the vending machines, only to return to see a pissed off ex-convict. Said moody young man was glaring at his shoes, unconsciously rubbing his chest. Why was Derek here? All his family was dead, and why the Oncology sections?
'I may know him a little better than that.'
Oh. . . oh. Derek was here visiting Stiles. Or was visiting Stiles. Now he just looked like he was about to go kill someone. John sighed and looked up at the ceiling.
'Damn it, Trisha. Why can't I just leave this alone?'
Silently cursing his wife for making him care so much for other people, he sat down next to Derek. Derek looked over at him before sitting up straight with a start. Before the kid could get up and walk away, John spoke.
"Alright, Hale. It seems we need to have a talk."