Derek Hale was 13 when he was first told what epilepsy was. Derek had never been known for his patience and when Talia agreed to foster the three year old toddler who'd been abandoned on the doorsteps of a local church with adoption papers pinned to his chest and an inhaler in his pocket, she had worried maybe he'd get frustrated with the little boy who hardly spoke. But there was something about Scott that inspired endless loving patience and a fierce protectiveness in her son. It was beautiful to watch them interact, watch how comfortable Scott was with Derek in a way he was with no one else and how gentle Derek was with the little boy he had taken it upon himself to care for. Derek was there when, a month into his stay at the Hale house, Scott had a seizure. He remembers calling an ambulance and driving to the hospital because, no matter how much he begged, they wouldn't let him ride in the ambulance with Scott and his mum. Scott was diagnosed with epilepsy.
Derek is 17 now and too used to the seizures that still plague Scott on an almost weekly basis. Scott officially became a part of the family less than a year after he came to them and has been Derek's shadow ever since. Derek can't say he minds too much. As if summoned by his thoughts, the seven-year-old comes bounding through Derek's bedroom door with a suppressed giggle.
"Derek, I need to hide!" Scott whisper-shouts conspiratorially with another giggle.
"Scott, I am not putting you in the attic again, it took way too long to get you out of there and you know the dust sets off your asthma," Derek reminds as kindly as he can because Scott hates being told he can't do something, especially when it's because of his illnesses.
Scott pouts slightly but seems too distracted by his game to put up much of a fuss so he settles for crawling under Derek's bed. Derek smiles and goes back to reading his book. A minute later a red-faced Cora swings round the doorframe, eyes scanning for the puppy-faced boy.
"Is Scott in here?" She asks, out of breath from running to catch him.
"I haven't seen him," Derek lies, eyes never leaving his book.
Cora huffs before throwing herself off the doorframe to search the rest of the house. Derek estimates they have about 10 minutes before Cora realises she has been deceived. Setting his book on the bedside table, Derek reaches under the bed and lifts the squealing seven-year-old over his shoulders.
"Come on bite size, we're going for ice cream before the she-devil comes back," Derek chuckles as he carries Scott out the room on his shoulders to a jovial shout of 'yay, ice cream!'.
Scott is ridiculously hyper after a double scoop of bright blue bubble gum ice cream that Derek knows he only gets because he likes the colour and so Derek decides a trip to the park, with a quick stop to pick up Scott's hyperactive best friend Stiles, is in order. The two chatter incessantly the whole car journey but Derek can't help but smile because Scott has the biggest grin on his face and Derek remembers a time when the seizures were so bad Scott didn't have the energy to smile. They're off the moment Derek parks on the street opposite the playground, limbs flying and looking somehow younger than their eight years caught up in this childish delight as Derek reminds Scott to avoid going high on the climbing frames. Derek chooses a bench and sits like all the watchful parents chattering by the playground fences, relaxing in the warm California sun and content to watch his little brother. The boys play for a couple of hours before the sugar rush appears to wear off and Derek can see Scott starting to flag, his medication sometimes leaving him with less energy than other kids.
"Scott, Stiles!" He calls them over and is prepared for a persuasion to get them into the car. The two come charging up to the bench with bright grins but Derek can see the weariness slowly starting to settle into Scott's limbs.
"It's time to go home bite size, I'm getting hungry," Derek stands and stretches just as the 'aw, Derek! Just ten more minutes!' comes from Scott's mouth. "Nah, come on Scott, I'm kinda tired, we should ask if you can watch a movie at mine!" Stiles jabbers with a grin and Derek almost raises an eyebrow at the lie. For his eight years, Stiles Stilinksi was a far better friend than Derek would have thought him capable of. A flash of relief crosses Scott's face before he covers it with a disgruntled nod, pretending to concede defeat as they make their way to the car. They make it half way to the park gate before Derek sees a twitch run up Scott's arm. He freezes, hoping it's just reflexive but preparing for the grand mal that's almost definitely coming at them like a freight train. Scott's shoulder jerks and suddenly he's looking up at Derek in panic because they both know what's about to happen and, dammit it's been such a good day. "Hey, it's okay Scott, we got this," Derek smiles through the pain in his chest and he knows they don't have time to get to the car because Scott is already starting to lose it. Just as Derek is about to ask him to lie down, Scott drops like a stone. Derek's reaction is almost automatic, his arms reaching to gently lower the seizing boy to the ground, a hand cradling Scott's head as he takes the jumper Stiles holds out to him and balls it beneath Scott's head. He checks, sees that there's nothing for Scott to hit and unzips the boy's hoodie before he sits back. There's nothing he can do but watch and count, talking quietly as his brother shakes.
"Oh my god, someone call an ambulance!" Derek sighs because there's always one.
"No ambulances, everyone just stay back, I have this under control," Derek grinds out, wanting to focus on Scott, his eyes still on the time as they near the minute mark.
"Young man, this boy is having a seizure, he needs an ambulance," the forty something soccer mom with a condescending frown steps gradually closer and Derek almost growls.
"He's epileptic, if he needs help I will get him help, so I would ask you to please back the fuck off so I can look after my little brother who does not need an ambulance," He snaps, having no patience for these people who think they understand this, understand what's happening and how they go through this all the fucking time, because Scott's epilepsy is a constant part of their lives and it always will be. Out of the corner of his eye Derek sees Stiles step between Scott and the onlookers with a stance that says 'I dare you'. He is so thankful for Stiles Stilinski. "It's okay Scotty, you're okay, I'm right here, it's okay," two minutes tick by and a dark stain spreads across the crotch of Scott's jeans "it's okay buddy, we're all good, you gonna start wrapping this up Scotty?" Derek keeps talking, never really knowing if this helps but doing it anyway just in case. Three minutes tick by and Derek is starting to get worried, agitated by the nosy kids and parents leaning in from all sides and really not wanting to hit the five-minute mark because Scott hates going to the hospital. 28 seconds later and Scott relaxes, his eyes blinking hazily and his limbs limp.
"Hey Scott," Derek smiles, running a hand through Scott's hair "You with me buddy?"
"D-r-k?" Scott slurs, blinking slowly at him.
"Yeah Scotty, I'm here. Come one, let's get you home," Derek takes the balled up hoodie, holding Scott's head under his arm as he hands it back to Stiles who nods solemnly. Scott hums as Derek scoops him into a bridal hold, Scott's head lolling on his shoulder as he glares a path through the concerned parents. Stiles follows silently behind them, not for the first time, his eyes trained on Scott. Scott is oblivious, fading fast into sleep like he often does after a grand mal.
They reach the car, Stiles taking the keys from Derek's pocket with a practiced ease, and Derek settles Scott into the front seat where he can keep an eye on him.
"Scott?" Derek gives his face the lightest pat to focus him "do you feel sick?" Because sometimes the seizures do that and Scott can't handle food for a couple of hours. Scott frowns like he's thinking about it, letting the question process, then nods a little.
"Do you want to be sick?" Derek squats and rubs Scott's arm a little. Scott takes a moment before he gives another tiny nod, his eyes tired but no longer falling closed.
"Okay, come on then," Derek reaches and carries Scott Koala style to the curb. Stiles appears next to them, the plastic bag that's always in the back seat held in his outstretched hand. Derek takes it with a tight smile and settles behind Scott, the younger falling back to lean on his chest with a convulsive swallow. Derek raises the bag to Scott's face, his finger gently brushing the boy's forehead as Scott begins to retch into the plastic. Scott heaves for a couple of minutes before he stops and slumps back onto Derek's chest, small tears gathered in his eyelashes.
"You done Scotty?"
Scott nods, eyes already falling closed. Derek settles Scott back into the car and throws the bag into a trash can nearby. Stiles has already buckled himself into his seat by the time Derek slides into the driver's seat and Derek send him a quick smile.
"You good Stiles?" It's not the first time he's seen Scott have a seizure and Derek knows it won't be the last but he understands how scary it can be to watch a grand mal happen, especially to one of your friends. "I'm good," Stiles nods, his voice a little shaky but determined.
"I'll drop you home on the way." Stiles just nods.
Half an hour later, Derek pulls into the driveway as Scott snoozes in the passenger seat. Derek doesn't bother to wake him, knows he's out for the count, and he carries Scott to his room, noting how quiet the house is. Derek lies Scott down on his bed and quickly strips Scott of his wet trousers, wishing Scott didn't have to go through this as he pulls a clean pair of sweatpants over the boy's thin hips. Scott squirms a little but doesn't wake, the seizures always leave him exhausted. Derek tucks him in under the covers, grabs the remote for the TV sitting across from the bed and settles next to Scott.
Derek's used to this, this is routine and he wonders if there will ever be a day when Scott won't have to worry about seizures and sleep patterns or forgetting sometimes whole hours because the medication is messing with him or the seizures have just knocked the memories loose. Derek wonders what's going to happen when the reality that Scott's probably never going to be able to drive or live alone finally hits them. Because Scott's young now and dependency is fine with him, but Derek knows what it's like to try and be your own person and he wonders how much it will hurt Scott when he realises independence just isn't realistic. But for now, this is their reality and the seizures aren't going away and Derek is happy to sit with his baby brother for as long as he needs him. Because that's what brothers do.