Grrrr, you see this is the problem with having reserve chapters. I'm really excited about 61 and wanna post it NOW, because I think you guys are gonna love it too, but I CAN'T. Uuugggh….

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Derek stood in the hospital room, numb besides his nerves eating a pit into his stomach. He didn't know what to feel. Didn't know what to say. He didn't know anything. Why he was there, who this man was, how he might know him, why he was targeted along with Laura- He knew absolutely nothing, and he was… terrified…. And confused. He needed to calm down but he didn't know how. His anchor had always been anger and grief, but it never much worked, not beyond the basest control of his powers. It did him no good when trying to set himself at ease. All he could think was to try and think of something that made him happy. All his happy memories tied back to misery. His childhood obviously a minefield all on its own. All his memories with Laura just either reminded him she was dead, or of his dream the other night, all the things she'd said. And even thoughts of Stiles were tainted by that. His mind wandered to the night before, when he stood in front of a bunch of hunters and exposed himself so much. Even with all he held back, it made him feel naked to think about. He thought about Stiles hand in his, the comfort that had given him, and how he wish he had that now. He cursed himself for needing the comfort of a teenager, in such a worse situation than him. It was pathetic. He sighed to himself, trying to get out of that line of thought. Stiles would've told him not to be so hard on himself. Stiles was patiently waiting for him to arrive so he could banish his father's spirit for all eternity. Meanwhile he was having a breakdown over trying to talk to an intensive care patient. It was hard not to be hard on himself.

'Sometimes loving yourself is hard. But you've gotta do hard stuff for the people you love.' He heard Stiles' voice echo in his head. He knew Stiles meant "people you love" to be oneself, but honestly he wasn't in a place where he was willing to do hard things for himself, so instead he saw it as doing it for the actual people who loved him. Laura, Cora, their mom, Peter, Deaton, Stiles. At that moment he took a deep breath, and felt a phantom squeeze to his hand, the same way Stiles had the night before.

"Wake up…" He finally forced out of his mouth hesitantly. "Wake up." He repeated demandingly, and the man complied, blinking back to consciousness. "Look at me." Slightly more gentle and in control. The man turned his head slowly. "What do you remember?" He asked demandingly.

"Hale…" The man answered with a small but obvious twinge of remorse in his voice. So this guy did know his family? How didn't Derek know him then?

"... How do you know my name?" He asked, but there was no power behind his words. His voice was meek and confused.

"I'm sorry…" Was all the man answered, firm with resolve.

"Tell me how you know me." Derek demanded, but it did no good as the man's breathing shook and stuttered.

"I'm sorry." He said, as strongly and meaningfully as he could, as he laid his head back on the pillows, not even seeming to fight to fill his weak lungs, as the machines gave the first warning beeps. As badly as Derek wanted to appeal for his dying declaration, he quickly pressed the emergency call button.

"Meyers, just hold on…" Derek stepped back as two women in scrubs burst in the room.

"What happened?" The one who seemed to be the boss out of the two asked quickly (seeming to be either head nurse or a doctor), as they checked all the basics to try to save the man.

"He woke up, he seemed fine, we only talked for a moment, and then he started having issues breathing."

"Was he speaking alright?" Derek nodded. The nurse who'd shown him to the room rushed in and the boss woman shouted to him to bring various medicines and devices. Derek's heart raced in his ears as the machines indicated the situation was now critical.

"Please, don't die now…." He whispered with barely any sound. The machines gave a shrill prolonged beep, and Derek shut out all the panicking and shouting and the continued offensive hum of the monitors pronouncing the death so clearly to the world. He didn't bother to hope they could save him. Somehow he knew it was a lost cause. Maybe because he had seen how the man clearly didn't want to live. He just stood there until he felt someone touch his arm.

"I'm so sorry for your loss…" The woman who'd taken control of the situation consoled him, heartbrokenly. He shook his head, trying to look less upset.

"I'm- I'm alright, really. I don't even really know him… My sister was just the first victim and…. I didn't want him to be all on his own." She smiled mournfully, and nodded at him.

"That's really kind of you… I'm sure he appreciated that. Do you… have anyone you can spend tonight with after this?" Derek, of course, did. He was supposed to head to Stiles' after this… but he didn't like sharing that information with a stranger even if she seemed nice. So he shook his head.

"I'm fine, I don't need anyone to-"

"I'm sure, but even when you don't know the person, death can be really stressful. You should make sure to take care of yourself." Derek decided to not argue with her. She was right, after all. Maybe he'd visit Peter before he left. He nodded.

"Thank you. Really. I appreciate all you've done, for him and for me." She smiled.

"It's no problem. Have a good night, sweetie." Once she'd walked him to the door, she closed it behind them, and went to talk to another staff member. He sighed, and headed to the elevator and took it to Peter's floor. He stepped off gingerly. Did he have some fear he might wake the dead? God, that was depressing. He walked a bit quicker to the nurses station. Jen caught sight of him with a glance and paused her work to smile up at him.

"Derek, hey. I heard you were around. How are you?" He shrugged.

"I'm… doing better…. I guess." Jen seemed somewhat thankful he was, but still respectful that he wasn't all better from the loss of his family. Jen had always been a great nurse though.

"That's… good, Der. I'm sure your uncle's gonna be overjoyed to hear that. He's missed you a lot. Unfortunately, I can't let you see him. He's already conked out for the night, and the other nurses have been absolutely shit about respecting visitation rules… So I have to set an example, you know?" She seemed peeved about it, so despite his disappointment, Derek just smiled and nodded.

"Oh. That's fine, then. Will you tell him I said good morning at least? I don't know when I'll… be able to stop in again." She nodded happily. She had always had a bit of a delusion that Peter was still in there, that he knew what was going on. Derek certainly hoped she was wrong, but he'd heard acting as such helped keep an air of positivity and humanity that was good for patients and staff. So he tried to play along as much as he could without it triggering his own trauma. As he dwelt on the idea, he suddenly remembered something he'd found that Peter might 'like'. "Oh, and here- I've been at the house recently and I found this," He pulled out the cracked marble he'd been rolling around in his pocket all day out and reached over the desk to place it in her opened, waiting palm. "He collected marbles a bit before… what happened. This was the only one I could find that wasn't shattered. Maybe he'll…." Derek tried to say it, just say 'enjoy it', just play along like he always did, but he sighed, unable. Jen nodded, not forcing him into it.

"I'm sure he will. He seems like he's had more days where he'll focus on stuff recently, but I've had such a hard time trying to find stuff he might like to look at to keep him company, you know?" Derek gave a smile, glad she had done him the favor of encouraging him. "Have a good night, Derek."

"Thanks, Jen, you too."