Chapter Twenty-Two
Thank God the council hadn't had the mind to shut off the heating and plumbing to the house yet.
The bath was dusty- but cleanliness wasn't what he was going for when Derek filled it with hot water. The Alpha wasn't really adverse in the ways of human health- but he figured he better not make the water boiling hot, because throwing a completely freezing body into scalding water would probably have negative side effects.
As the water was rising slowly, too slowly dammit- Derek hurried to undress the unconscious boy. Stiles was so cold, his lips blue, face deathly pale and heart-rate slow. It scared Derek, knowing how fragile and close to death the human was. He always would be fragile, always needing to look out for danger, the slightest thing being able to kill a human like him. The alpha didn't like it- but everyone had come to the conclusion that Stiles was to remain human- to remain in danger. The boy wasn't weak though, he'd never be weak, not personality-wise at least.
Derek didn't know what to do other than what he'd seen on TV and read in books- in this case all he could think of was getting the boy's body- temperature up with a warm bath. He didn't even know if that would work- but he had to do something, Stiles heart rate just kept going down, his body too frozen to even shiver.
He also suspected that Stiles had either fractured, or thoroughly sprained his left leg (due to the slowly appearing and quite horrifying bruises) and along with the many cuts and abrasions left over from the shattered windscreen glass the boy would be in a lot of pain when he woke up.
Derek's mind was travelling elsewhere as he lowered the icy, boxer-clad boy into the water.
How did they end up like this? It had just happened so fast. The windscreen went black, he couldn't see anything and then…well before he knew it the car was upside down and he was dragging a bleeding and half-conscious Stiles out into the snow- hoping to god that the Molotov cocktails wouldn't explode from the crash.
Then there was that thing- that black cloaked creature taller than any man Derek had ever seen. Eyes like small burning blue orbs and face hidden in darkness.
The thing, most likely the winter spirit that Peter had encountered, was cold; the air around it turning frosty with ice and Derek could already feel himself shivering after a second in its presence. Born-Werewolves were extremely versatile when it came to seasons- their higher temperature burning away even in the coldness of snow and ice. If Derek was shivering near this creature, a thing he'd only ever done as a small child, then he knew he had to get Stiles away from it.
Derek had done the only thing he could think of- reaching through a broken window of the Camero he pulled out a stoppered bottle of explosive, and threw it at the creature.
After that he ran- holding Stiles in a bridal carry and not looking back.
He ran and ran, panting with excitement and fear. Knowing the woods like the back of his hand he followed the smell of rot and ash to the Hale House, crashing through the door and running upstairs to the bathroom- knowing he had to get Stiles warm quickly.
That left him where he was now- watching as a limp Stiles lay in the slowly filling tub- listening to his hear and holding the boy's head up so that he didn't slump under the water.
He looked dead and limp. His face pale and lips blue, eyes bruised a dark purple- standing contrast to the paleness of his flesh. It pained Derek to see Stiles like that, such a vibrant teenager; constantly moving and fidgeting- now deathly still, breath coming out shallow and heartbeat barely there. It was like a nightmare come true.
Derek watched, looking the boy up and down for any more apparent injuries. He knew that it wasn't an opportunity to look at Stiles- but he did it anyway; taking in the surprisingly broad shoulders, softly defined stomach muscles, chest hairy and not as flat as Derek would have imagined legs long and stomach spotted with small brown freckles.
Derek sighed sadly, Stiles wasn't waking up- no matter how many times he shook him, Stiles just wouldn't wake.
Derek honestly didn't know if it was a good or bad thing- but Stiles' heart-beat finally picked up. After a few minutes in the tub, his skin turned slowly from the almost-blue hue to a pale pink.
After a short while the boy finally started shivering violently, and Derek decided it was time to get him out of the tub.
Despite Derek's supernatural strength- lifting a slippery, shivering teenage boy out of a bath tub was incredibly awkward and definitely not a dry experience.
With a muttered, "Damn it." Derek quickly wrapped Stiles in a few towels left over from the move- and carried him downstairs to the dusty sofa in front of the fireplace.
Derek had never lit that fireplace in the months he'd been again-living there, but this was kind of a desperate situation, and so he swallowed down the wrongness of lighting another fire at the house, and with a leftover pile of logs, some matches and tinder- Derek got the fire slowly flickering to life.
He then went to the sooty hallway cupboard and pulled out some moth-bitten blankets, taking them over to Stiles and draping the shivering boy with as many as possible.
Stiles' heart rate and skin colour were both still dangerously abnormal- and Derek had seen enough of Isaac's daytime dramas to know what to do next.
Grumbling under his breath, the Alpha slipped his clothes off- the buckle of his belt making a distinct clink against the floor- adding a clattering noise to the otherwise whispery atmosphere, crackling fire the only other thing breaking up the eerie silence.
He then slightly shoved the boy's covers aside, moving to slip behind the shivering body- pressing his own warm chest into Stiles' chilly back.
Derek tried not to think of the intimacy of the situation, laying on a couch in winter and spooning in front of a wood fire. It was a situation Derek would have wanted with Stiles- and if it weren't for the boy's sickly state Derek may have been almost pleased.
He ran his hands up and down the boy's arms- feeling the surprising definition curving his cold skin.
Both Derek and Stiles' phones had been lost in the crash, and Derek was completely unsure when the harsh winter weather would decrease enough for him to move the vulnerable human from his house.
Snuggling his face into Stiles' neck, Derek sighed- breathing in the smell of ash, dirt and Stiles.
It was unlikely that Stiles would wake up soon; it was also just as unlikely that Derek could move away for a while either. So, with that thought in mind- Derek moved the covers closer over both of them, and fell asleep, clinging Stiles tightly to his chest.
When Derek woke it was the feeling to Stiles turning in his arms. The boy was still fast asleep- but he had gained some colour in his cheeks and his shivering was almost non-existent. Stiles had turned himself in his sleep- now facing the sealing- his side touching Derek's chest.
Derek sighed in relief and took his chance, now that the worry had dissipated- to just lie contentedly and study the boy. He doubted it would last very long- as soon as Stiles woke up he'd be embarrassed and undoubtedly keen to not be cuddled up to an Alpha werewolf. Derek felt a tightening in his chest when he realised that this was probably the last time he'd ever get a chance to be so close to Stiles- a closeness he'd been craving for over a month now. He just wished it was under willing and happy circumstances- rather than a forced hypothermia-warding, heat-sharing snuggle.
He'd been really worried- a thing he hadn't felt since Cora left for New-York on a 'self-soul-search' as she called it weeks ago. Stiles could have died- in fact while the fear of him dying was still there, Derek had almost succumbed to panicking like a mad-man.
He was supposed to be a cool, collected Alpha but so far he'd stuffed up that pretty bad; Boyd and Erica were dead, the first person he'd ever bitten turned into a homicidal lizard, his only sister couldn't wait to run off and his only beta remaining was more loyal and admiring to another Alpha- freaking Scott McCall.
Sometimes Derek wished he was more like Scott- trustworthy and someone people could turn to when things went wrong. Someone Stiles could turn to without being in a situation of utter desperation, someone who was strong enough not to need Peter, not to have to depend on others.
Everyone assumed Derek Hale was some kind of recluse loner- but the truth was he needed people; that's why he'd bitten Isaac, Erica and Boyd- not only as soldiers in the fight against the Alpha Pack, but also as a new family. Hell, he'd even taken a sort of companionship with Scott and Stiles- two idiot teenage boys who had absolutely no self-preservation.
He wanted a family again- but so far every suitable candidate he came across he just pushed away.
He would stop though. Derek would start living, start creating bonds, having friends and allies.
Derek frowned and looked down at the sleeping boy next to him, studying the lax, pale face for a moment. This was someone he should treat better; show his appreciation with something other than fighting side-by-side.
He would- he would show everyone the alpha he could be.
Looking down at Stiles, Derek took a chance. The boy was still asleep and Derek just wanted to, just once see what it was like.
With massive amounts of hesitation- the man leaned in and slowly, softly, pressed his lips to the sleeping boy's- a small caress and nothing more.
It would never be anything more.