I don't own Teen Wolf.

Cut Out All the Ropes: Chapter 11

They had caught him. Oh my God they had caught him. The Argent's had him and they were going to torture him and kill his babies and then they were going to kill the pack.

That was the only thing Stiles could think of when he woke up with his arms strapped to his sides. His head throbbed and his vision swam as he tried to sit up, pulling as hard as he could against the restraints. He whimpered, his head turning back and forth on the scratchy pillow.

"No," he moaned, letting out a choked sob when a blurry figure moved into his line of sight and wrapped their hands around his wrists. "Let me go."

"Stiles?" The voice said and it sounded like he was underwater.

"Please don't hurt me," he moaned, trying to turn in on himself and letting out another sob when his arms were held tight. "Please don't hurt my babies. I don't know anything. P-p-p-please! I don't know where the pack is!"

"Stiles, calm down," the voice said, and Stiles let out a sob as his vision started to fade. "Breathe, Stiles." His voice caught in his throat as the world tilted and he lost consciousness again.

"No," a chocked moan came from the bed and Derek quickly climbed to his feet, moving to Stiles line of sight. The teen had been resting fitfully for the last three hours, but he had yet to be conscious enough to speak. "Let me go."

"Stiles?" Derek whispered quietly, his brow furrowing as the boy pulled roughly at the restraints. He wrapped his hands gently around Stiles wrist, holding him still.

"Please don't hurt me," Stiles whimpered, and Derek's eye grew wide, finally understanding that Stiles thought he'd been captured by the Argent's. "Please don't hurt my babies. I don't know anything!"

"Stiles, calm down," Derek whispered quietly, placing one hand on Stiles' swollen stomach. "Breathe, Stiles. Breathe. You're safe. I've got you. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you"

"Please," the pregnant boy whispered, his bleary eyes rolling back in his head.

"Is everything okay? His heart rate went up?" Melissa asked from the doorway, a worried look on her face.

"You need to take these off," Derek said, his face stern as he gestured to the restraints. "He thinks he's been kidnapped by the Argent's and that they're going to torture him. You need to take these off. Now." Melissa, who had been filled in on the whole werewolf situation of Beacon Hills, bit her lip and nodded. She rushed forward, shakily taking the restraints off his wrist and sliding them off the bed. She ran a hand down the side of face, then rubbed his stomach slightly before stepping back and turning to Derek.

"You should really get some sleep, Derek. It'll be a while before he's lucid. It spread through his system quickly and it'll take a couple days to pull his fever down. He won't even know you're gone."

"I can't leave him. I can't…I don't want him to be by himself right now…" Melissa sighed, giving Derek a sad smile.

"Well then get some sleep in here. The pack needs you, too."

The babies were dead. No-no Derek was dead. Or was it his dad? Oh God no it was Isaac. He'd never been able to save Isaac!

Stiles was confused. His head was so fuzzy and he had no idea what was going on. He had no since of time and he just wanted to wake up. He needed to know that the babies were okay.

No wait, no. It was Derek who'd been caught by the Argent's trying to save him, right?

No, no, no it was his dad that was held at gunpoint by another lunatic at the police station. That's what it was.

No, oh God, he remembered now. They had found Isaac in the chest freezer in his father's basement. He'd been covered in bruises and he'd suffocated in there. Oh God, how had the werewolf not healed?

Stiles just wanted to go home.

"You look like hell," Melissa said, and Derek jumped, his heart beating out of his chest. He blinked several times, his eyes finally landing on the nurse who was taking Stiles' blood pressure. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be able to sneak up on an Alpha Werewolf?"

"It's…It's complicated," Derek said quietly, rubbing at his eyes.

"Scott explained it to me. You're denying yourself your mate and your wolf isn't happy about it. That and the fact that Stiles is sick means you're sick and getting sicker. Does that explain it?"

"I. Uh. Yeah," Derek whispered, watching the steady rise and fall of Stiles' chest. "Is he getting better?"

"His fever is falling."

"Thank God," Derek whispered. "I don't think I can handle any more of the delirious hallucinations…"

"I heard they were pretty bad," Melissa says, giving him a sad smile as she marked the teen's blood pressure in his chart.

"Let's see, there was getting kidnaped by the Argent's. Then he apparently thought the twins were dead, regardless of how many times I told him they were okay and made him touch his stomach. Then he thought I was killed saving him from the Argent's. That was followed by his dad getting shot by some psychopath at the police station. Or there's my personal favorite; Isaac's dad killing him before any of us found out he was being abused. Which, by the way, we're not telling Isaac about that one. He's already skittish enough. But yeah, they've been bad."

"I'm sorry you've had to watch that," Melissa said quietly, sticking a needle into Stiles' IV.

"Ha. His dad and I have had to witness him go through these horribly depressing nightmares. But when Scott and Isaac sat with him while I went home to change? Do you know what he apparently saw then?"

"What?" Melissa said with a small smile.

"He was riding through downtown Beacon Hills on a pink unicorn named Butters. A unicorn," Derek deadpanned and Melissa snorted, shaking her head.

"Well his fever is almost normal. He should wake up pretty soon and be okay. It'll be over soon." Derek nodded, reaching out and taking Stiles' hand. He wasn't afraid of acting in front of Scott's mom; she knew about his mate and that was okay. "Are you going to tell him?"

"I…" Derek trailed off, his jaw snapping shut with an audible click. "I think I have to. I can't keep hurting him or putting him in danger like this. I just…I just thought if I could keep him away I'd keep him safe."

"Fate works in mysterious ways…" Melissa said, squeezing Derek's shoulder as she walked past.

There was an obnoxious beeping sound in his ears and something in his nose. Stiles whimpered, curling on his side and trying to pull his knees to his chest, stopping with a raised brow when his stomach got in his way.

Oh. Right. He was pregnant. He remembered that.

As he tried to turn on his other side, the needle in his arm pulled and he slowly blinked open his eyes. Okay, so he was in the hospital. He racked his mind, trying to remember what had happened but nothing came to mind. Stiles could see two machines in his line of sight. One seemed to be beeping with his heartbeat. The other machine had leads attached to his stomach and he watched as two jagged lines crossed the screen, apparently tracking his children's heart rates. He placed a shaky hand on his swollen stomach, letting out a sigh of relief when he felt two kicks from different areas of his stomach.

"Stiles?" a quiet voice whispered and Stiles took a deep breath, rolling over on his back and blinking up at the ceiling. "Stiles, are you awake?"

"I," Stiles said, clearing his throat a couple times. "Uh, yeah."

"Here, drink," the voice said, and as Stiles let the straw fit into his mouth he saw Derek watching him with worried eyes. The wolf had dark bags under his eyes and it looked like he hadn't shaved in days. "How are you feeling?"

"I…tired? And my head kind of hurts." Stiles swallowed, rubbing at his eyes. "What happened?"

"Victoria slipped wolvesbane in your water. To humans it just looked like a bad allergic reaction, but it hit you really hard. You've had a really high fever which caused a lot of hallucinations and more or less just wore you out. You're in the ICU."

"How long have I…?" Stiles asked, his brow furrowed.

"Four days," Derek said, swallowing thickly as he leaned forward on his chair. "Your dad had to go back to work for a little bit today, that's why he's not here."

"The…The twins?" Stiles asked, glancing over at the fetal monitor next to him.

"They're okay. The doctor said you had a lot of cramping and bleeding when they first brought you in but they were able to get it stopped pretty quickly. The twins' heart rates were pretty high for a while once they first brought you up here, but they've slowed back down to normal. They're going to be fine."

"How long have you been here?" Stiles asked, burrowing down in the bed some more, the hand without an IV in it cradling his stomach.

"Since they brought you in. Your dad called me as soon as they called him…I left once to go shower and change and stuff, but I've been here the rest of the time."

"I…I mean the babies are okay. You didn't have to stay?"

"I need to talk to you about some stuff…" Derek said, glancing away from Stiles. His legs jumped and he had to physically stop himself. He mentally scolded himself; now wasn't the time to take over Stiles' ADHD.

"Is this the point where you tell me I'm too much trouble and that you don't want these kids? Because, I mean, I guess expected that but I kind of hoped you'd pick a better place to break that news."

"What? No! Why would you think that?" Derek asked, his eyes wide. Stiles shrugged, looking at his lap and Derek sighed. He climbed to his feet and sat gently on the edge of the Stiles' bed. "How much have you looked into Werewolf mating habits?" he started slowly and Stile snorted.

"Some, I guess. Not much though. It never seemed important." Derek sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Wolves have mates," he started slowly and Stiles nodded, looking away.

"I know. Scott told me. He said that's why you changed on the first full moon because you've been denying yourself yours. Which, I mean, you don't have to do that to spare my feelings. Just because I'm pregnant with your kids doesn't mean you totally have to put your life on hold. I get it; mating is out of your control and all that crap."

"You're my mate," Derek said slowly, watching as Stiles' head snapped up and his eyes grew wide.

"What?" the teen asked, and Derek didn't need the heart rate monitor to hear how fast Stiles' heart was beating.

"You're my mate, Stiles… I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to get hurt. Obviously that backfired but…"

"You mean to tell me you've let me mope around for the past four months because I thought you didn't want me? And that all those hurtful things you've said or done in the past six months was to keep me safe? I don't know if anyone's ever told you this, but you suck as not hurting people! Dear God, Derek! What the hell?"

"I know, okay? I know I messed up. And I had no right to keep this from you or to treat you like that…"

"Is that why you look so sickly? Because you weren't accepting your mate?" Derek nodded and Stiles glared. "So you're only telling me because you're getting sick and your wolf can't fight it? Not because you actually want me? Good to know."

"What? No!"

"I know I'm not much to look at or be around, Derek. I get that out of all the possible mates out there I'm probably one of the worst. So sorry your wolf seems to think you're stuck with me. Looks like you get the short end of the stick again!"

"Is everything okay in here?" A voice said from the door and the two men turned to see Melissa standing there, a brow cocked.

"We're just talking," Derek said quietly and she gave him a knowing look.

"Just keep in mind he's still in the ICU and that this is still a hospital, Derek. Don't upset him too much. Let me know if you need anything Stiles. I'm glad to see you're awake and lucid."

"I, uh, thanks Mrs. McCall. I'm okay," Stiles said, glancing back and forth between the nurse and Derek. She grinned, pulling the curtain around his small room, leaving them alone.

"I'm not ashamed of you. In fact, I think the wolf picked a pretty damn good mate. I would never consider it getting stuck with you, or that you're the short end of the stick. I liked you before my wolf even decided he liked you. And now? Now I love you. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to get hurt. I have the emotional range of a teaspoon and you and I both know that; you could have easily gotten hurt. And do you know what other packs would do to the mate of an Alpha? I was trying to keep you safe. You and the twins. However, I realize know I just ended up hurting you in the long run. And I'm sorry." Derek reached out, gently wrapping his hand around Stiles' and squeezed. "I want to be with you."

Stiles looked down at their joined hands and slowly looked back up at Derek's face. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, shifting uncomfortably.

"Stiles?" Derek asked quietly, studying the teens face.

"I need to pee," the teen blurted out, his cheeks turning red. Derek raised a brow.

"Okay? You have a catheter in still? Just go?" Stiles eyes grew wide, searching Derek's face before pulling up the blanket and looking down.

"One? What the hell. Two? Oh my God. And three? I can't pee in front of you! Especially not like this!" His voice squeaked, his eyes going wider. He let out a moan when his body seemed to disagree and the catheter did its work.

"You've been borderline unconscious for four days. Just ignore it Stiles. Can we get back on subject?"

"I don't know what to say," Stiles said, not meeting Derek's eyes. "I mean I've wanted you this whole time you kept pushing me away. And I don't know how to trust you…"

"I get that. I really understand. Maybe we can just take things slow? I'll make it up to you, I swear." Derek bit his lip, squeezing Stiles wrist gently.

"Is this really happening?" Stiles whispered, letting his head fall back. His eyes fell shut as he rubbed absently at his temples.

"I'm not trying to guilt you into this, Stiles, but this is it for me. Werewolf's mate for life; there's no one else for me out there. You're still human, though, so you could easily walk away. Yeah, I mean, it's a little more complicated with the twins. But you can walk away. If you were really, truly against this…I might be able to leave all three of you alone. I wouldn't like it, and I don't know how long I'd last without you guys, but I could try it…"

"I-What? No! Don't talk like that…" Stiles' eyes water, his lower lip quivering. "I-you-I-you can't just go away!" Derek's head whipped up, his eyes guarded.

"What are you saying?"

"I don't-don't know what I'm saying!" Stiles said, his voice catching in his throat. "I don't know what I want yet, but you can't leave!" Stiles rubbed at his eyes some more, tears leaking out. "Please don't leave."

"Hey, it's okay. I won't go if you don't want me to," Derek whispered, intertwining his fingers with Stiles'. "We'll take this slow. We'll figure it out, okay? You get some rest; you're still pretty weak right now. You and the babies need some rest."

"Will you still be here when I wake up?" Stiles whispered, his eyes getting heavier with every breath.

"If you want me to," Derek whispered, and Stiles nodded, his eyes falling shut.

Derek looked up from his newspaper a couple hours later when a small knock came from the door. He cocked a brow at Isaac who shifted nervously. Derek glanced at Stiles, who still slept peacefully, before climbing to his feet and fallowing Isaac to the hallway.

"What's up, Pup?" he asked quietly and Isaac bit his lip.

"Argent approached us. Allison told him what happened and he's furious. Apparently he was going to report her to some hunter's council thing? But she disappeared and he has no idea where she took off too. He said he wanted to meet with us, though, to work on some treaty between the hunters and the pack."

"A treaty?" Derek asked, his brow furrowed.

"He said he couldn't go into detail with us until he'd talked to the Alpha. Argent said he felt like it was out of line for him to approach you at the hospital, but he asked us to have you call him when Stiles is out of the woods. I just thought I'd pass the message along…"

"I uh, thanks, Isaac. I'll call him later. Just tell the rest of the pack to keep an eye out for Victoria; I don't want anything happening to the rest of you." With that, Derek turned back to Stiles' room, running a tired hand over his face.

AN: Please review. I hope you liked it.