Chapter 1: A message to the main
Stiles spun the pen in his hand, he was suppose to be researching something for Derek but his mind kept wondering all different ways.
Things with him and his Dad had gotten tense, tense to the point that they were avoiding one another at cost. After all, didn’t have to listen to lies if you never were around right? Stiles sighed scrubbing at his buzzed hair and spinning around in his desk chair.
Things had finally gotten good in his life, Scott was in Derek’s pack which meant they were working together, and Erica Isaac and Boyd were working well with their new found werewolf skills seeing as no one tried to kill anyone yet Stiles counted that as good. Jackson was less of a dickface now that Derek seemed to help him with whatever it was he needed help with the teen did not care and did not want to know, and Allison’s parents had become less tense as the weeks dragged on, which meant her and Scott could hang around one another officially again.
The murders had stopped but Stiles still had to occasional lie to his Dad, which is where his issues were.
He and Derek had reached a good point in their relationship and Stiles was getting ready to tell his Dad, really he was, but with all the lies, all the mistrust going on, he was afraid that he finally pushed their relationship too far.
Adding on that he was dating an older guy may just be the final straw and Stiles couldn’t handle that. Not now, not ever. He could never lose his Dad, even if it meant lying about where he was every night, or why he wasn’t home for dinner.
If it meant he at least had some kind of relationship with his only parent then he was willing to take the pain of the tense relationship it was.
He shivered a bit rubbing at his arms and turning his light off, he wasn’t getting anything done anyway with his mind going on like this.
He’d stopped taking the adderall, Derek said it made him smell like medicine and it wasn’t helping anymore anyway.
He’d been taking too much lately anyway.
The downside was his attention was occasionally shot when things got a bit stressful in his life, they tended to even out when he needed them to and that was enough for him.
The window creaked not seconds after he fell into bed and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh and turn feeling the familiar body slid in next to him he shifted more over rolling until they were comfortable.
“How’d you know?” Stiles whispered closing his eyes and burying his face into the side of the older’s chest. Derek hummed shifted his arm around to be less twisted, looking up at the ceiling, he began scratching lightly on his scalp. It was relaxing and everything he needed right now, he’d felt a headache coming on the minute he laid down, and like everything else it seemed like Derek just knew what was going on inside his head.
“Right, your super duper amazing werewolf mind powers.” He concluded for him closing his eyes after a few seconds, Derek smirked a bit in the dark feeling the teen relax into sleep against him. He’d been watching for awhile, not that Stiles would know.
Derek was gone when he woke up, but the bed was still warm meaning he couldn’t have left to long ago. Derek was always gone in the mornings though, mainly because Stiles would never get to school on time if he wasn’t. Sighing he stretched and winced, despite Derek’s magic fingers he still felt like shit on a brick. Heavy awkward limbs and all. He hoped he wasn’t coming down with anything, which would suck major on top of everything else going on in his life.
But knowing him he probably was, because Stiles never did life in halves.
He moved to get changed and ready for school, thank god he still had another two weeks before lacrosse practice started back up again, not that he really did much for the team but something told him the coach would sense his ill-being and make him work until he died. Because the coach seemed to really just hate him for stupid reasons sometimes.
His Dad was of coarse gone, a note on the fridge saying he’d be back late tonight, like always. Stiles sighed crumpling the note up and tossing it away, throwing breakfast together and heading out for school.
Because whatever deity looked upon Stiles Stilinski everyday hated him, School ended up being the shittiest yet, and here he thought his senior year would be better. A pounding headache decided to make itself known in the back of his head and spread over to his eyes first thing in the morning.
Scott and Allison were too wrapped up in one another to even acknowledge that he was there all during lunch head laying on the cold hard plastic of the lunch room.
He didn’t even feel like eating right now which sucked dick because it was curly fries day, and come on curly fries. Lydia swooped over first thing and rambled on with Allison which just made Stiles headache worse. He loved the girl, yes, that would never change.
But when his head hurt like it did he didn’t want to listen to her ramble on about a certain pair of shoes for 45 minutes.
Scott seemed to finally notice he wasn’t eating or doing much of anything, but it wasn’t until the bell rang and Stiles didn’t lift his head up.
By the time the final bell rang, his shit lunch, and teachers deciding to throw every single pop quiz or test they could, he wanted to crawl into his jeep and die, die and die over and over again until he couldn’t be brought back anymore and he was done wanting to rip his eyeballs out with his bare hands.
“Hey man you coming to the meeting?” Scott said slowly, catching him by the arm on his way to his jeep. “Woah you look like shit.”
Stiles rolled his eyes and winced waving him off and wiggling from his grip. “You sure know how to make a guy feel special…..and no…I…tell Derek I’m sorry I just-“
“Stiles don’t worry about it. Just….rest up or something” Scott said awkwardly, adjusting his bag, Scott never seemed to know what to do when it came to Stiles being sick or upset, when it wasn’t able to be fixed with video games or long hours of best friend mayhem.
“Feel better?” He tried; and okay, Stiles smiled for the effort waving him off when Allison pulled up with Jackson and Lydia.
Driving home took longer than he would of liked but his vision kept going out and he kept pulling over to avoid killing himself because of it, thank god tomorrow was Saturday or he may very well die during the middle of class, his Dad wasn’t around to call him in sick and Stiles didn’t really feel like asking with the way things were going.
Grabbing a glass of water and some aspirin, tossing both back as he walked up the steps, he collapsed on his bed the minute his knees hit the edge. He didn’t even have time to rearrange himself before he was out.
Scott and the others made it to the Hale house earlier than normal, Derek was still doing something inside his car and the other wolves were nowhere to be seen. He turned away from his task up when they came up. Frowning deeper than normal as Scott climbed out and he got a full look at the car, confirming the scents. Scott had already guessed what he was thinking before he asked.
“Stiles?” The lack of jeep and him not being with the others was unusual, especially since the two became whatever it is they were.
Scott waited for the others in the car to climb out before answering nodding and shutting the door to Allison’s car. “He said he wasn’t coming today, he didn’t feel well, and to his defense he looked bad. I don’t think he’s been getting enough sleep” Derek looked more confused shaking his head at that.
“He must have caught something he’s been going to bed early in fact” He answered, shutting the hood to the car and wiping his hands off on a towel, gesturing to the house.
“Don’t want to know how you know that” Scott sang following Allison inside the house and making a face, Lydia and Allison shared a laugh at the expense of the other guys in the group.
Derek made a note to check up on Stiles later, he didn’t smell sick last night when he visited, he had a headache but maybe it progressed. He really didn’t know how human sicknesses went.
Isaac busted in, running away from Erica successfully distracting him from his train of thought, moving to separate the two before they broke something he just fixed, his worry about Stiles was pushed until later.
Chapter 2: Seasons come and go
Stiles slowly and very gently rolled onto his side, hoping that the slower he did it, the less chance he had of aggravating his already-pounding headache. A bleary look at the clock on his side table told him that it was 6pm. Holy shit he slept all day.
"Looks like I missed lunch," he rasped jokingly to himself as he flung aside his fluffy comforter. He immediately regretted it when his skin prickled at the sudden blast of cold air. Sighing, he reached for the blanket again and slowly wrapped it around himself, ah cocoon of warmth how he loved thee. He was really missing his personal heater right about now though, Derek radiated warmth like a fire and during the winters it was one of Stiles favorite things.
He’d just woken up and he was already miserable, going to bed on Friday the minute he got home with the headache from hell, and just when he didn’t think it could get worse, it swung around and hit him in the face with one of the worst headaches he’d ever experienced. Even when he had panic attacks and the remains left him in pain, they weren’t this bad.
He stumbled down the hall to the bathroom between him and his Dad’s room, it was a chore and he felt like going to bed again the minute he made it into the cold tiled room. He could sleep here right? The bathtub looked pretty comfortable and hey he already had his blanket. He dropped the thought right away though; his bed was a better idea. Looking up into the mirror he winced, well, looks like someone won’t be winning any beauty contest anytime soon.
“Damn and I was hoping for first place today” He mumbled to himself.
He shivered and made a displeased face, he was boiling hot right now but he was shivering like he’d gone into the snow without his jacket again. The shivering also did not help his head in the slightest. It was probably the worst cold he'd ever had, and that was saying something.
Considering he was the same teen who figured running off coffee and sour patch kids was a good idea, it wasn’t just by the way. His mind was supplying that all his symptoms on top of the dizziness and slight black outs he was getting were a bad. That he should see a doctor or something, but he also knew he couldn’t drive like this, not after his attempts yesterday. He wasn’t really feeling like telling his Dad, or Derek. Scott was probably too busy with Allison to even pick up his phone to.
Derek probably already knew, but he figured his Dad would just roll his eyes or something and call him out on faking it. He had been doing a lot of lying lately. He coughed as he reached for the medicine cabinet and flinched at the sight of how pale and miserable he looked.
Maybe calling Derek would be a good idea….no no Derek would only worry and do one of his weird wolf like things. He finally got the cabinet opened, after the latch decided to argue with him. Popped open the aspirin bottle which was also a battle, before dry swallowing a few pills, which is one of the grossest things he’s done thank you very much.
"Should do it," he muttered as he closed the cabinet. "It better," he sighed, staring at his blood-shot eyes in the mirror.
Then it was back to bed for him. After stumbling not so steadily around the bathroom for a mere ten minutes, he was exhausted enough to welcome the cool sheets of his bed.
Sleep didn't come immediately, of course, because nothing was easy for him. So, he tried to distract himself with something else ... and ended up thinking about Derek, and Scott and the rest of the wolf pack, his Dad came to mind to.
He was running, running through the familiar woods with no end. His hood had fallen into his face and he pushed it off.
There was no end why wasn’t there no end, why was he running again?
Gunshots answered his question and he pushed himself faster, hunters? Probably. He ran trying to not panic and cause his chest to tighten more, he felt like shit right now how long had he been running?
A branch caught his food and he slammed into the hard forest floor sliding across the ground he cried out rolling over to push himself up a gun was shoved into his face.
His Dad was pointing a gun at him, his face cold and hard and Stiles shook. “Dad?” Why was his Dad pointing a gun at him? It was a mistake right? His Dad must have been out here because gunshots tend to lead to police being called and thought he was the one. That was it, his face was cold because he thought he was facing a criminal.
His Dad shook his head, cocking the gun and pointing it right at Stiles face, oh god what was going on? What did he do? No nothing, nothing would make his Dad do something like this. “You’re not my son, not anymore” Stiles shook his head, confused at the statement, what did that mean?
“Of course I’m your son!” He looked down trying to fight back tears, had he lied so far that his Dad didn’t even see him as his Son? No that couldn’t be it, he clenched his hands and winced looking down his hands were claws, no this isn’t right. He isn’t a werewolf, Derek wouldn’t turn him and Peter…he turned Peter down.
He looked up, Derek was standing next to his Dad, his face just as hard. “Do it.” No. Oh god no what was going on?
He didn’t have time to protest, his Dad glared hard and pulled the trigger.
Stiles jerked awake, crying out in pain and falling back against the bed. Checking himself over quickly, he still felt human. He was human, it wasn’t real. Oh thank god it wasn’t real.
"Shit," he whispered, still shivering from the dream. "Stupid dreams," he muttered and rubbed his forehead, his eyes closed. His head hurt even more now, if that was possible. He felt like someone was twisting a knife inside his head, which really was just the greatest feeling in the world. He’d rather saw his arm off-no. No he would not, never mind.
As he huddled on his side, willing his body to get better, he had to get better, to fix things between him and his Dad before they got that far. To help Derek with the pack and everything, he absolutely hated being sick but he’d get better with some rest.
He managed to sleep after that. A restless sleep, but sleep, his phone lying on the carpet vibrating away.
Scott hung up his cell, wondering if maybe he should try and call his friend again. He knew Stiles was sick but he hoped it was something simple and the other teen would be okay by now. Derek had them running tests through the woods and finally gave them a break, Scott was hoping that his friend could come over and distract the alpha so they didn’t have to run anymore.
Guess he was wrong. He wondered if maybe he should call the home phone, or Stiles Dad to make sure the other really was okay. But maybe Stiles was just sleeping and everything was okay, that was probably it. Stiles never really got sick anyway, he probably caught something when running with them the other night.
Allison came over with some food and he was distracted from worrying about his best friend, Stiles would be okay, if he needed one of them he had all their numbers and could call any of them, he smiled taking the sandwich from her and resting on the porch.
Plus his Dad was the Sheriff, Stiles would be fine.
Chapter 3: It's hard to say I'd rather stay awake
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
He woke up and immediately knew that something was wrong. The headache that had plagued him yesterday was back with a vengeance. The twisting knives partnering up with jack hammers and construction workers. He felt like his brain was trying to escape from his skull and every movement sent out a new fresh and even sharper wave of pain.
Stiles groaned and somehow managed to open his eyes, looking around his room. It was dark, either nearing morning or he’d managed to sleep until the next night again, his vision was blurry and he groaned.
Thinking through his headache was a monumental effort, he wondered if his Dad was home, but instantly doubted it, seeing as it was night time his Dad was probably working. Always working.
"Shit," he swore, whining when it caused his head to spike through with pain again, he wanted Derek. It was pathetic but Derek had magic hands, and with his Dad playing the avoiding game Derek could help him right now, Derek always helped when they needed it.
He also really really needed to fucking pee right now. It was either fight it all and get up or pee the bed, and despite the pain, he really did not want pee his bed at all.
With great effort, he got to his feet, but a wave of dizziness assaulted him spinning the badly decorated room like a tilt-a-whirl, and he suddenly had a hard time figuring where up or down was he knew he was standing and that was about as far as he got. He managed to grab the bedpost before falling stumbling a bit on his feet.
This time he was alarmed enough to feel a stab of fear. He could hear his heart pounding erratically and he wasn’t even a werewolf it was going as if he'd just run a mile a minute, or from Scott, or Derek shoved him against a wall, maybe he should be the one worried about heart problems instead of his Dad….. And then he was suddenly aware about something: He was burning up. The mild fever that he'd had yesterday? Tonight? was nothing close to mild today. He felt like he was at the bottom of one of the pack piles, but the pack was also on fire.
Maybe he should call someone? Yeah that be good….if only he knew where his cell was….the landline was downstairs and there was no way he was going to try stairs like this.
Exhausted from the brief exercise, Stiles sank back to his bed and tried to catch his breath.
He closed his eyes and he felt a drop of sweat trickle down his forehead.
Looked like his plan to sleep off the cold had backfired disastrously. He’d figured sleep would help him get over whatever it was that was, apparently he was wrong. He felt worse than he did when he went to bed and he wasn’t sure that was possible.
Shivering, he wrapped his arms around his body and tried to muster his strength to get up; he needed to find his cell phone. The thin shirt he wore suddenly felt as if it was made of air, and considering he’d worn this shirt before he knew that certainly wasn’t true. He couldn't get warm, his body was trying and despite the fever it was cold.
"Got to get to the phone," he wheezed as he used the bed post to lift himself up, he figured he’d left it in the bathroom when he was in there last, or on his dresser, across the room. He swayed dangerously when he got to his feet, but after a while, he tentatively took a few shaky steps to his bedroom door. His legs trembled wildly, and unfortunately, he had nothing to hold on to.
He knew he wouldn't make it when spots began dancing before his eyes.
What's wrong with me? He wondered desperately when his vision darkened further. The stab of fear in his heart grew to pounding panic.
He reached out frantically with his hands, but the world suddenly tilted, and he found himself on the floor, the wind knocked out of him.
Am I dying? He wondered numbly. He imagined his Dad coming home to yell at him for missing school in a few days, to find him on the ground dead. Wincing he instantly knew he was over reacting, no he was just sick. No way he was leaving his Dad all alone after what happened to his Mom. Someone had to watch his diet for him.
Resigned, Stiles lay on his side on the carpeted floor there was no way he would be getting up, trembling from the relentless cold. His world was spinning and he felt like he was dying for sure, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the darkness. It was less painful there.
Derek made a face turning out into the woods towards the town. Something felt off, bad off. Scott ran up, resting his hands on his thighs and panting.
“What’s up? Why’d you stop?”
Derek looked down at him before turning back to the city. “Something’s wrong…..” He couldn’t place what when Stiles rolled into his mind, turning back to look at Scott he frowned.
“You called Stiles yesterday right?” Scott nodded straightening up a bit.
“I wanted to see if he was doing alright, it was uh” He pulled his phone out to check the time out, it was nearing 6am. “About 12 hours ago, I figured he was just resting he didn’t look all too well yesterday” Scott seemed to put the two statements together.
“You think something’s wrong with him?” Derek nodded gesturing for them to head back to the house. Something felt wrong, and he couldn’t help thinking it had to do with the sick teenager. He’d been so busy working with the others he figured he’d check on Stiles when they were done.
“I’m cutting it short today” Derek said slowly as they walked back and the others began to join them, looking at him in confusion.
“He thinks something’s up with Stiles” Scott responded, earning a glare from Derek. “Hey man it’s the truth.” Scott defended himself; Allison looked concerned as did the rest of the pack, well with the exception of Jackson who suddenly found the group super interesting.
“You three” He pointed to his wolves. “Stay here, watch the house. I’ll be back if everything’s okay and text you otherwise. Everyone else go home.” Scott looked like he wanted to protest, but Allison was his ride and well…..Allison.
“Text me? Please? Or call…” Derek nodded pulling on the shirt laid across his car and sliding his jacket on before climbing into the car taking off before the others. He hoped it was paranoia, or something else telling him to check on the teen. Maybe something else was off and his mind just supplied Stiles first.
He tightened his grip and sped down towards the familiar home.
The Stilinski home was a good 20 minutes from Derek’s house, and once he hit the city judging from all the cruisers hanging around Derek couldn’t speed around it. 25 minutes later he was pulling up to the house, cutting the engine and climbing out of the black car. The Sheriff was home, and Derek didn’t really want to knock but if something was up he also did not want the man coming in and wondering why Derek was in his son’s room.
Weighing the pros and cons, he walked up to the front door. He’d used it before but it felt weird to knock, it was only after he knocked that he realized it was nearing 6am, and everyone was probably sleeping. And he was also Derek Hale knocking on the Sheriffs door. He was about to turn and go up to the window to Stiles window when he heard the lock lick.
The Sheriff stood, wearing his uniform the top few buttons undone like he was just getting in from a long night, a frown on his face. “You know, normally criminals don’t come knocking on my door…I think you’ve got things reversed” Derek made a face shaking his head.
“What you do now Derek? It’s 6 in the morning.”
“Nothing” He snapped but quickly composed himself, he regretted not making Stiles tell the man about their friendship right about now. “I was innocent the other times to….I was wondering if Stiles was okay?” He was really regretting not going through the window to, he felt like his judgment was all clouded from his worry about his mate.
“Setting aside the fact you’re at my house at the crack of dawn asking about my son, He’s in his room, why?” The man demanded, and to his slight defense his son accused him of trying to kill him.
Derek wished he used the window and dealt with it then, for all he knew Stiles was fine and he just basically outed there friendship for no reason. “He was sick when he left school on Friday, Scott told me” He clarified quickly. “No one’s heard from him since I wanted to make sure he was doing okay”
The sheriff made a face, he hadn’t seen his son….in a few days actually he hadn’t known that he was sick. He would have checked up on him otherwise. The man nodded Derek in after a moment shutting the door behind him. “So you and Stiles….are friends now?”
Derek shrugged a bit. “You could say that….we share a mutual friend and after awhile he wouldn’t go away” The man laughed nodding in understanding and lead him up the stairs and Derek made a face at the smell, the smell of sickness was strong very strong, and it did nothing to calm the Wolf. It smelt like death and he didn’t like it.
His Dad knocked “Stiles?” He asked softly, no answer, he twisted the knob pushing the door open fully. Their eyes were on the empty bed first then the fallen blankets taking it downward. Right to his son.
“Stiles!” He yelled running into the room the door making a noise as it was slammed open past it’s normal point, pulling the teen up into his arms and cradling him against his chest, he was shaking violently, almost as if he was having a seizure and it sent spikes of fear straight to his heart. Oh god what if Derek hadn’t knocked on that door. How long would he have avoided his sons room? How long would his son suffered on the floor? How long had he already been suffering on this floor?
Derek crouched down fighting his wolf back and trying not to panic. “Call 911” The Sheriff said seriously pulling himself away from looking at the shivering teen in his arms. “Tell them where to come, say it’s my son.” Derek nodded moving quickly out of the room he knew he didn’t have to tell the other to tell them to hurry. He turned his attention downward.
The pale skin was even paler than normal, flushed with fever and sweaty. He placed the back of his hand on his sons head pulling back quickly. It was high, too high to be even remotely safe and he swore. “Stiles, can you hear me?” He wasn't sure what to do – whether it was okay to shake him, or whether it'd be prudent not to touch him at all. “Genim?” He tried softly. To his surprise, Stiles eyes fluttered open looking deeply confused. He ran his hands over the buzzed hair feeling the sweat that gathered there from the fever.
“Hey son. Hey, I’ve got you alright. You're going to be okay, you hear?" he said softly as he brushed his hair. Derek came back in, pulling the leather coat off and laying it on Stiles still-trembling body. Kneeling down with the two and trying to offer whatever he could, he’d never seen anything like this. He was a wolf, human sickness was foreign to him for many reasons, the humans that did live with them never really got sick, not like this.
Stiles eyes wondered lazily, glazed with fever, around before settling upon Derek. Then he frowned and whispered, his voice so faint they could barely hear him, well his Dad could barely hear him Derek heard him just fine. "What are you doin' here?"
Derek managed a very weak smile his insides yelling to help, his wolf was pushing against the surface wanting to help and Derek kept telling himself there was nothing they could do, Stiles was a human, not a wolf. "Checking up on you," he said softly.
Stiles closed his eyes as yet another wave of chills shook his body.
"Hey, you're going to be okay," the Sheriff said softly as he carefully placed a hand on Stiles shoulder. He could feel the heat even through the coat and he felt like crying. His boy was burning up and there was nothing he could do. Derek looked just as lost, like he wanted to fix it as much as the Sheriff did.
Stiles eyes opened again. This time, there was confusion in them, the amber was paler than normal and no recognition ran through them. "I’m not your son!" he snapped at his Dad, his voice harsh and whispery, his eyes fiery with sudden anger.
Surprised at the sudden fire in his sons voice he drew his hand back quickly but didn’t let him go.
Stiles then muttered something incoherently and curled into himself burying his face into his Dads chest, trembling even more violently.
"He's delirious," Derek murmured worriedly, brushing a hand against the back of his head trying to comfort himself through touch, it only made worse when he felt the heat.
"Don't touch me!" Stiles snarled. With a sudden burst of strength, and lifted himself off away from his Dad and tried to push Derek away with a flailing hand, his Dad held on tight, not that he really needed to seeing the boys strength right now was a joke at best, he was quickly exhausted himself and fell back heavily against his Dad.
Cradling Stiles head in the crook of his arm. "Don't move, kiddo. I've got you," he said gently. He stole another worried glance at Derek. The last time anyone was this sick in his life, they died. His wife passed from illness and it was taking every instinct to tell him that Stiles was going to be okay, that it wasn’t the same. He was still so worried, so panicked, it was hard to keep his emotions in check. He wanted to play cop, demand answers and solve what was wrong and he just couldn’t.
The chills had abated, but all that activity had left Stiles panting heavily. His eyes were unfocused and he was staring sightlessly at nothing. It unnerved the both of them. He could only watch helplessly as the teens eyes rolled back into his head and he fell limp. Beside him, Derek visibly stiffened.
“He just passed out” Derek said quickly seeing the man shift instinctively, wanting to check his sons pulse and reassure him that the rapid rising and falling of his chest wasn’t a trick of his mind. “He’s okay. His hearts racing but he’s….” He’s not okay though and both of them knew that. The man was too distracted by his son in his arms to even ask how Derek knew his heart was racing.
In a rush of movement the paramedics were in the room, nudging Derek out of the way as carefully as possible and asking the Sheriff all kinds of questions about his son. He answered the best he could and while they moved him out of his arms, he couldn’t let go of the hand.
It felt so foreign to hold his kids hand, but it was true. Painfully so.
They strapped him down to keep him from rolling off or pulling himself off tugging an oxygen mask over his face and lifting him up to get down the stairs. He looked so small, a weakness that neither of them liked to see on him. Stiles wasn’t weak at all, and he wasn’t weak now. Derek moved to follow them grabbing his jacket as he did.
He never felt more useless in his life.
He was a werewolf, an alpha, and he couldn’t protect someone in his pack, his mate. What good was he? His wolf as still whining and he had no way to calm it. He just followed behind and did his best not to get in the way.
I'm going to try to update everyday or twice a day at most.
All will be revealed in the next chapter~
Chapter 4: If it all goes crashing into the sea
So I don't have a beta reader, and I apologize for any mistakes made in this chapter.
All is finally revealed!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
"Temp is 106 and rising, erratic heartbeat. Breathing still strong … unconscious right now … oxygen administered …dehydrated …malnourished"
The world was shaking. And it was really fucking noisy. Some kind of siren, but it wasn’t like his Dad’s. His room didn't have a siren, did it? Was there an earthquake? They didn’t really often happen in Beacon Hills but it was California
The absurd thoughts were still running through his head when he tentatively opened his eyes, holy hell it hurt.
He couldn't make sense of anything. The world was awash with blurred colors. It was hard to make anything out, why did he feel so awful? He whined, wondering if maybe one of the wolf fights went bad and he was the unfortunate not super healing victim.
This wasn’t his room….it wasn’t Derek’s either, or Scotts.
"Genim?....Stiles. Can you hear me?"
He shifted his aching head towards the familiar voice, only one person ever called him that anymore, ever Scott had seemed to even forgotten that Stiles wasn’t his real name and Derek didn’t even know it. He saw a blurry figure in front of him, but the uniform clicked with familiarity. Eventually the blurry figure sharpened somewhat, and a face swam into focus.
He realized that it was his Dad he was staring at. And he looked worried. No, anxious, afraid? Like the time he got the call about a car accident involving a jeep and couldn’t get a hold of Stiles, or when he found out his Mom was sick. His Dad rarely had this look but when he did, it was bad.
"Stiles. Can you hear me?" His Dad said again as he leaned forward, he looked tired. Stiles felt someone squeeze his hand. It felt weird. Like he was detached somehow, and that sensation belonged to someone else. What was going on? Where was he and what was going on?
This time, he decided to make an effort to say something. "Dad," he whispered. It surprised him how awfully weak he sounded; he didn’t like that one bit. He realized then that there was something on his face. He wrestled an arm free from the blankets to remove it from his face.
His Dad quickly stopped him by gripping that hand and gently placing it back at his side.
"You need that on son" he said gently.
He frowned and struggled to get the words out from his parched throat. "Where …" he began, but found he was too tired to continue. Why was he so tired? He’d been sleeping a lot lately hadn’t he? Maybe he’d been running in the woods….no his Dad wouldn’t be here..
The world was shaking again … or maybe he was … he realized then that he was having a difficult time trying to keep still. Where was he? Why was his Dad in this place? He couldn't remember anything beyond falling asleep last night. He remembered Derek the night before, and feeling….weird at school? Where was Derek?
His head ached as he tried to remember, a lot. Right, the construction workers doing the rush order were going crazy in his skull still.
"You're in an ambulance, and we're taking you to the hospital," His Dad explained, his voice calm as always, the Sheriff leaking into it. Only his dark tired eyes betrayed his anxiety, Stiles knew his Dad. He paused, and then added. "You're going to be fine."
"No, I'm not," he whispered. He knew that with a certainty. If he couldn't remember anything else that had happened to him and how he'd ended up in this place, he remembered one thing: he was not going to be fine.
His Dad opened his mouth to protest, but Stiles only shook his head. "He’s never going to….to talk to me again….It’ll never be okay”
The man frowned, he didn’t like hearing his son talk like that. "Who are you talking about?"
"It doesn't matter … he shuddered as he shook from the cold again.”…He’ll…forget," he whispered harshly. He began to pant as his heart began to speed up. Then he turned his glazed eyes to his Dad.
"Sorry she….died." Stiles muttered, his breathing seeming to pick up the wheeze he rarely got since he’d grown older.
For a second, the man gave his son a bewildered look, did he mean his mother? Or something else?
"Stiles" he began.
The teen whispered something unintelligibly, then he winced as a cough ripped through his chest.
"Don't talk anymore, kiddo," He said, watching helplessly as his son coughed. He gave the paramedic a concerned look, which he returned briefly before putting on a stethoscope. He gave Stiles chest a listen and shook his head.
"What?" He asked, his worry intensifying.
"Breathing's getting labored," said the paramedic.
"Do you know what's wrong with him? Is it pneumonia? He has asthma, well it was when he was a kid but he still has an inhaler"
"Can't say for sure. Symptoms like these, it can really be a lot of things, I’d say we can rule out his asthma but not quite yet. But one thing I'm sure, we should let him rest, it’ll help his body fight off whatever the infection is" the paramedic reminded him as he adjusted Stiles IV.
He nodded without removing his eyes from his sons anxious ones. Tentatively, he reached out to grasp his boys feverish hand again, feeling like he needed to ground himself. His son would be okay, he had to be. He wouldn’t lose to this little cold.
"We'll talk about it when you're better, okay?"
Stiles didn't respond. Instead, he stared at his Dad suspiciously and then yanked his hand away from his Dad’s grip arms flailing.
"I’m no one’s son" he sounded crossed between angry and miserable, as if he didn’t believe his own words.
By the time they opened the ambulance doors the small hospital bright with panic and white coats of doctors, Stiles was unconscious again. His Dad got out quickly to avoid getting in the way of the people helping his son, and watched furtively as they moved the stretcher with his only child on it to the emergency room. Stiles by then had stopped his shaking, and was still once more. Too still for him to be comfortable, Stiles was always moving, even in his sleep.
The Sheriff could only follow in mute silence as they placed him on the gurney and wheeled him deep inside, until a doctor came towards him and told him that that was the furthest he'd go, Sheriff or not they needed to work on Stiles.
As he stared at the retreating figures, he felt someone standing beside him, a warm familiar figure. Ms.McCall, she’d heard the call over the emergency room. That the Sheriffs kid was being brought in critical condition and she didn’t hesitate to get herself involved as much as possible.
She didn't say anything. What is there to say? She knew nothing anyone could say would make it better if it was her son, that only seeing him okay would make that twisted feeling inside her uncoil.
"He's going to be fine," he said mechanically, his eyes still on the retreating figures, as if by saying it, it would be true.
“Of course he is….I’ll go. I’ll help them, I’ll keep him safe okay? Make sure he’s okay” He turned to her, eyes grateful and almost to the point of breakdown. She patted his back.
A woman in a doctor's white lab coat walked quickly towards them and Melissa moved past them, joining the crowd around his son. God he was thankful for her right now.
"I'll wait," he said when the doctor told him it may be awhile before news on his son came back, voice tense and rough. Fighting back all of his emotions, he couldn’t break down, not now. Not until he knew Stiles was okay. Scott and Derek busted in seconds later, he guessed that’s what took the dark haired man so long to show up, Scott still dressed in pajamas his face tense already, he quickly moved to sit next to his friends Dad putting his hand on his back.
“Any news on him?” He asked softly Derek looking for answers as well. The man shook his head and he nodded accepting the news and not pushing any further, he knew better than to do that, the waiting game it was.
Surprisingly, they didn't have to wait as long as they thought they were going to have to, the Sheriff already called in saying he wouldn’t be in today and maybe the next few days, everyone on the station understood and sent well wishes saying he needed the days off anyway. About half an hour after the chaos of entering, the same doctor walked up to them. They all stood up quickly.
"You’re the father correct?" she asked, a little breathless, eyeing his Sheriffs uniform before meeting his eyes.
The man nodded, pushing himself to stand as he tried to push away the sudden stab of fear he felt. "That's me," he replied and stepped forward.
"I'm Dr. Joan Grey," she said and shook his hand brusquely, looking at the other teen and Derek before continuing. "To start, we've managed to lower his temperature slightly, but it's still very high at 105, as you recall it was 106 on his way here. I've placed him on antipyretics to bring it down. We're performing blood tests on him soon to determine the cause of his fever."
"Do you know what he has?" He asked tensely, praying not to hear the same conclusions his wife was given. He couldn’t lose them to the same illness, it would just…it be worse than anything he’d imagined. Seeing his son in the same condition.
"Not conclusively until the blood test. His condition is serious, but thankfully he came in when he did, any longer and were not sure what we could have done for him. On top of the fever, he's badly dehydrated. As well as malnourished, meaning he hasn’t eaten in awhile or had any sort of fluids. Do you know how long he's been like this?"
The Sheriff sighed hanging his head. He felt awful right about now, he didn’t want to answer that he hadn’t seen his son in over a week, that he’d been slightly avoiding seeing his own kid who turned out to be extremely sick. He’d been…busy with work and now his only child, his boy, was in the hospital and they were asking questions he didn’t have answers to.
“He was sick on Friday” Scott said softly after a moment, turning every ones attention to him. “Not on Thursday but he didn’t eat at school, kept laying his head down and during class he was so distracted, he left saying he was going home to rest…He wasn’t bad the day before though” He added remembering what Derek had said earlier.
“My son doesn’t really get sick all too often, but when he does he doesn’t do it in halves…..do…could it be a really bad cold he can’t shake off? He has asthma…" His Dad rambled worriedly, he felt like he was earning his worst father of the year award right now. He didn’t even know that his son had built a friendship with a past accused felon. Or what he’d been doing the past few days…malnourished….had there even been food in the house? Oh god he hadn’t been home in days he kept eating at the station or out, they could of very well run out of food and it’s not like Stiles had the money to go get more.
That was a form of abuse and he knew it, neglect, it wasn’t even accidently he’d been purposely avoiding his kid and he would of continued to do so if Derek hadn’t come to check on him. If he hadn’t gotten sick. He felt like throwing one of the chairs and throwing up all at once.
Derek was tense in his chair, the smell of hospital overwhelming his senses, he wished he’d checked on Stiles the minute he heard he wasn’t feeling well, he waited so long, if…if he hadn’t trusted his gut. Went to check on his mate, how long would he had been on the floor? It’s obvious his own father wouldn’t of checked up on him for quite some time.
"I see. It looks like a sudden onset of high fever," murmured the Doctor, she scribbled something down with a frown.
"Which means?" All three asked, exchanging glances before focusing on the Doctor, weird, specially for Derek but they had to know.
"Unfortunately, many things. These things can be hard to diagnose, but we think we have an idea were having our specialist come in, his names Dr.Caffrey, he’ll be here right about now and once we have confirmation we can start to help your son.."
"Dr.Grey, he's going to be all right, isn't he? I mean, he's not in any danger, is he?" Scott interrupted, voice strained with fear and worry over his best friend.
Dr.Grey gave them a guarded look and shook her head apologetically. "I can't promise you anything, I'm sorry," she said.
The remark sent another stab of fear into all of them.
"Are you saying that he could die?" The man asked in a low voice, he can’t believe he even got the question out. The thought that Stiles would die before him never crossed his mind, never once in his life; it was hard for him to even think the kid could get injured sometimes. That he’d lose his son the same way he did his wife, sick, hooked up to so many monitors it wasn’t even her anymore.
"What I'm saying is that I can't give you a firm answer we don’t know what's causing the fever. The blood test will take some time to get in. I suggest you return home, get some rest. We'll keep you updated. I’m sorry but were doing all we can right now, I need to go back…. But…first” she said, looking down at her clipboard. “One more question” She said slowly. “Is your son sexually active? We need to cover all bases and I don’t want to waste any time if we don’t have to.”
The Sheriff shook his head, Stiles? No. “No no my-“
“He is” Scott interrupted awkwardly. Derek turned away when they all looked in the direction of the two. “I….he’s been for the past few months. Same person though and I’m almost positive they don’t carry anything. Plus I know there…safe” Wow he was honestly talking about his friend’s sex life in front of his friends Dad, and sexual partner. But he also couldn’t lie about this, he didn’t know anything about the medical field and if having sex someone how was related he didn’t want them to pass over it. The woman nodded and spun out of the ER, glad one of them knew the answer.
The Sheriff looked stunned, but the fact that his son could be dying right now overweighed the fact he wanted to find out who it was, why he hadn’t told him, everything.
"Oh God," Scott murmured, running a hand wearily through his hair. Stiles had been his friend since kindergarten, his only friend for a long time. He’d been there for him when his Mom died, he wasn’t sure how to really deal with this. A primal, no…it was the wolf. The wolf was fighting him, wanting to fix it. He couldn’t imagine what Derek felt like if even his wolf was upset.
His Dad collapsed heavily into the chair, and Scott moved to quickly comfort him. “Stiles will be okay” He said softly, watching the man nod mutely.
“He’s strong and stubborn, right? You know that, anyone who talks to him for a minute knows that” Scott rambled, trying to reassure everyone in the room. “Nothing like this will keep him down for long, he’ll be up as soon as we know it, and getting into trouble again the second he can”
The Sheriff gave Scott a tight smile, moving to rest his hand over the kid. Scott was right, he had to be right.
It was hot.
Too hot, was the pack laying on him again? He hated when they did that.
Stiles moved restlessly in his bed, trying to find a cooler spot, away from all the heat, he felt as if he was lying on something that was heating him up, Derek wasn’t normally this hot, maybe he’d just exercised, he quickly found that his arm snagged on something. The pain was sharp and sudden enough to wake him up fully.
He blinked owlishly amber eyes glazed into a dark murky color, and he saw blurry figures around him. Who were they? He thought in panic. Where was he? Did hunters take him?
Confused, he tried to sit up, only to have someone push him down. He pushed the hand away in alarm and tried to get up again. More hands restrained him this time and he began to struggle against them with his feeble strength. He wanted to cry for Derek, oh god did he get captured? Was he poisoned? Where was Derek, or Scott. He wanted them, and his Dad. He made a whimpering noise wondering why words weren’t forming.
"Maybe we should restrain him?" a voice asked.
He didn't hear the answer. He struggled harder, but almost immediately felt his strength disappear. He slumped back to the bed helplessly as the misty shapes took his hands and positioned it at his sides.
"What are you doing?" he rasped finally when words came back to him, he felt something thick and leathery being tied around his hands. He tried to jerk his hands away from it, but found that he couldn't.
"Let me go!" he yelled and then tried to sit up. Oh god they were going to kill him, he was going to die right now or be turned, or be used as bait and Derek was going to have to save him and fuck his life how did he always end up in these situations.
Someone pushed him down again.
"No," he moaned, shaking his head in denial and frustration. "Get away from me!" he hissed, crying, he didn’t like this. He didn’t like the feeling of not being able to move right now at all.
“Stiles" a woman called her voice familiar. He tried to focus on the direction of her voice. One of the misty shapes bent close to him, and eventually Ms.McCall came into focus and he whimpered more, confusion making his heat hurt and his pulse speed up. She looked intently at him and said. "Don't move, Stiles honey please. You're safe; no one's going to harm you."
"Then why are you tying me up?" he demanded, struggling with his bonds, he thought this woman was his friend, she helped him so many times.
"It's for your own good sweetie. You have a very high fever and we need to bring it down, and we need you to stay still and not struggle you’re going to pull your IV out. I'll remove the bonds if you agree to do this, can you understand me? Stiles I need you to trust me right now okay? I promise were only trying to help you"
Stiles bit his lip when his stomach churned with nausea. He managed a weak nod, he was in the hospital. He’d put that much together himself and he knew he needed to let them help, she worked with his Dad, gave him Christmas presents and let him get away with making a copy of her key. She wouldn’t turn him to hunters or wolves, or other monsters.
He felt them untying the straps around his wrists and fell back to the pillows in relief as he continued to stare warily at the woman.
"Stiles honey, we're taking a blood sample from you now. It'll twinge a little but it’ll only be a second," the woman said softly, rubbing a gloved hand over his forehead.
He felt something poke him in the arm. He winced, but was too weak to protest, let alone fight back. She warned him, it wasn’t anything bad, it wasn’t bad. He had to trust her. Even if he was so confused
"What's his temp?" asked the doctor.
"105, and rising again, no signs of coming down this time."
He supposed that was not exactly good news because the doctor shook her head, well he assumed it was the Doctor. Then, someone opened his eyes and shone a stab of light into his eyes. It instantly sent a bolt of pain ripping through his skull.
He cried out in pain and looked away. "It hurts," he rasped angrily. "Stop…please" He clenched his eyes shut tightly; if they want to shine that thing again in his eyes, he's going to make sure they were going to have to put a ton of effort to do it. He wasn’t going to play the how much can we do until Stiles brain explodes game right now.
"Sensitivity to light," the doctor droned like it was a bit of fascinating trivia. She then said something to him, but by then he was too tired to concentrate. He let the world fade away. He could vaguely hear them fussing around him. Like distant, phantom voices.
Then, the brief peace he enjoyed was disrupted when he felt hands on him again, and like before, he was too weak to stop them. He groaned when icy fingers touched the feverish skin around his neck. They gently turned his head left, then to the right, like he was some kind of puppet they wanted to play with. And then someone removed his blanket, and began taking off the light hospital gown he wore. That was the last straw.
"Stop it," he cried out. He pushed the hand on his wrist away weakly, he didn’t like being touched like this, he just turned 18 come on. He at least made Derek work for it.
The icy hand returned to gently place his hand back to his side.
"It'll be over soon, Mr.Stilinski," said someone; this time it was a man. “Stiles” a voice said softly and he turned up. “Stiles you need to let them work okay, sweetie there just trying to help” Scott’s mom said softly, placing her hand on the back of his head. He whined again but relaxed.
So, the invasion of his personal space continued in earnest. They were obviously looking for something. Though he couldn't, in his befuddled mind, figure out what. He wondered vaguely if maybe he got the bite and it was killing him, or maybe he got a scratch and it got infected like that one medical show he watched.
He moaned when they turned him to his side. The icy hands were now behind his legs poking and prodding. It sent his feverish imagination into overdrive and his heart raced from the anxiety, no one could touch him here, no one was suppose to. But thankfully, like they promised, it was over quickly. Though they lingered a bit on a spot down by his unmentionables against his thigh, which he really wished they didn’t, that felt more invasive than his legs. He earnestly hoped that they found what they were looking for because he really needed to sleep now. Then whine to Derek how the Doctors violated him.
Gentle hands turned him back to his back, smoothed out his hospital gown and adjusted his blankets. Which he was really glad for; stupid violating hands were gone now.
He drifted in state of being half awake and half in whatever land he felt like and eventually the hum of activity around him went quiet….until a deep voice penetrated his dim consciousness. It jolted him awake. Scared him even.
He opened his eyes slowly. A bland ceiling greeted him…he vaguely realized that he must've been moved because he didn't remember the room looking like this, all blue an….peaceful. Like his Moms hospital room. The other room was white, stark…..frantic. And it was quieter here except for the irritating beeping in the distance, he wanted to smack it.
The voice said something again.
"What?" he rasped in response.
"This is important, Stiles. Were you recently bitten by a tick?" Ms.McCall asked a man was with her. He looked serious, but Stiles had never seen him before. He was stumped for a while. What kind of question was that?
He lived next to the fucking forest, but he also was smart enough to wear clothes in said forest. His Dad always used to check him for ticks when he was little so he normally looked himself over.
"Mr Stilinski?" “Stiles?”
They sounded was serious, wanted an answer. Couldn’t they wait for him to be able to think clearly?
"Tick … no ticks. I check, Dad taught me to check….I don’ run aroun’ naked” he slurred, was he drunk? Why was he slurring? He heard a chuckle, a man.
"A sense of humor is always a good sign," said the voice. Stiles wanted to tell the man that he wasn't being funny, he had a different brand of humor after all. It was just the truth. But the thought of talking that much tired him.
A blurry shape came to his line of vision. Eventually it sharpened and took on the features of a man in his fifties with bushy eyebrows. The man frowned heavily as he scribbled something in his pad.
Another figure walked to his side. The female doctor who had treated him in what he presumed was the emergency room.
"It certainly looks like a bite. The area between his inner thigh and groin, which would mean he had to be wearing less clothes then he is now. No rashes, though," he muttered to the woman. "How long did you say he's had symptoms?"
"His friends noticed that he'd been having cold symptoms for a day or two, but he could have been feeling minor symptoms long before and just not have said anything," said another female voice.
"Should've had some rashes if it's what I think it is…. Still, 10 of patients may never manifest the rashes. It could very well be a case of that"
Stiles was too tired to keep his eyes open, so he closed them. But he could still hear them talking. He wished they could stop … he couldn't sleep when people are talking so loudly. He tried to think of Derek’s hands running over his scalp like they did the other night when he felt off.
"The blood test, the bite…I think I'm certain now, tick bites are common in this area with the woods in all. You've started him on doxycycline?"
"Yes, as a precautionary measure," she replied. “We weren’t sure but seeing as it’s not doing too much harm we figured it was worth the try”
"Good. How's his temp?"
"Rising, though it's still 105 it hasn’t stabilized quite yet," returned the other doctor.
He didn't seem very pleased with the answer, judging from the long silence. "The doxycycline should foster some kind of improvement. If not, we're back to square one," he finally said, his voice grave. Something they didn’t want to be at? But why? He was just sick, a cold.
His mind wandered back to thinking of Derek’s hands, trying to calm his mind when a memory came into his fevered mind.
"Derek …." Stiles muttered, realizing something.
He opened his eyes and saw the male doctor, who raised his bushy eyebrow, which Stiles thought, could very well give Derek’s a run for their money.
"What is it, Mr.Stilinski?" he asked gently, his voice was too hopeful for Stiles to be okay with.
But he was so tired again…and as his eyes slid close. “Was nake’ in woods” He mumbled before passing out again. He was just so tired, but he figured they got what they wanted.
The moral of the story is don't have sex in the woods.
No no really though It was awhile before I figured out what to give him, and this just kind of stuck when I saw all the woods around Beacon Hills.
Chapter 5: Walk these walls alone
So so sorry for the really late update!
Tomorrow will be a late one as well, I just got home from work and did some revising now before posting.
Sunday I get a new computer though so I'm hoping to finish the story then!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
The hospital was silent, it was late morning but in such a little town it was rare on Sunday for the ER to have anyone in it, the nurses and Doctors used the day to check on paper work and little things that often did not get done because of the chaos. The waiting room was empty, except three people.
The Sheriff and Scott said in the chairs next to each other, Derek was more off to the side, back pressed against the wall eyes closed and if it wasn’t for the occasional movement one could think he was asleep. Scott looked tired, rubbing his hand over his face, his mother had brought him a jacket and promised to come back with food seeing as she couldn’t get them to move right now.
It had been about three hours since they brought Stiles in, and outside the small questioning they got from the Doctor, no one said anything, even Melissa could only offer that they were doing everything they could to stabilize him and keep him comfortable, but nothing more.
The Sheriff spun his thumbs around, occasionally looking up at Derek and back down again, in trying to distract himself from worrying about his son, he kept thinking of this man. The same one he’d arrested twice now, almost a third time but if he hadn’t come to check up on Stiles….but his thought. Why. Why at 6 in the morning did he feel like checking up on Stiles? Derek always seemed like a lone creature, until he filed to be Isaac’s guardian, which was bizarre.
He just couldn’t put together why Derek Hale would be checking up on his son at 6 in the morning.
"Hey!" someone called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.
It was some of Stiles friends, the Argent girl, that Jackson kid on Stiles Lacrosse team, and Lydia, oh he knew about her for sure. As they ran towards them, he could clearly see that they all looked anxious. Scott must of texted them at some point to fill them in on what was going on.
Scott stood moving over to Allison and hugging her tightly, even Derek seemed interested now, sitting up again and looking at the others. Did he know them to?
"Isaac and the others are on there way" She said softly, looking at Derek, when he nodded she turned back to talking to Scott guess that answered his question. “How is he? Any updates or anything all you said was that you guys were in the hospital and to come when we could, I called everyone as soon as possible…is he..okay?” Allison asked immediately, her face was pale and her hair carelessly tied up none of the girls were wearing makeup or had an attempt put in to do anything but put something on and get here. It was obvious that they all rushed here as soon as possible, even Jackson, which was odd.
"Derek came and got me after they had to call an ambulance to his house and rush him out, he hasn’t really told me much of what’s going on or what happened, but I mean, it’s bad Al, it’s really bad" His voice was tight, and he looked far too young to be in this situation right now, all of them. Lydia hummed softly, rubbing her hand over his shoulder before moving to sit next to Derek, whispering to him after a long moment.
Jackson merely cast the scene a quick, distracted look. "But he's going to be okay, right?"
"I mean, he was fine on Friday. He can't be that sick," He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself, while the teen may obviously try and cover up how much he didn’t care, it was obvious now how much he really did.
"My mom said he’s got like a really high fever, and that they don’t know what’s really wrong with him yet. The doctor looked all concerned and everything and I had to….kind of out that he was doing stuff.” The other teens made faces and Scott nodded. “They don’t….really know…I mean no bad news is better than anything right?” Allison rubbed a hand over him and the teens moved to sit around Derek, except Scott pulled away after a second moving to sit next to the Sheriff again looking up at him.
“He’s going to be okay” He said softly, the man smiled, wrapping his arm around him and pulling him close. The ER became a bundle of noise again when three more teens joined the group, a blonde girl, Isaac, and a black kid the Sheriff had never seen before. They moved over to Derek instantly and the group became a whispering pack, looking over at the two of them every so often and then down the hall.
He wasn’t sure what upset him more, the fact he had to have some grown man knock on his door to find out his son was sick only feet away from him, that it took him getting sick for him to learn that he’d been sexually active for months now. Months, or that his son had all these friends, all these friends who came to the hospital at 9 in the morning on a Sunday and promptly took place on the floor and wait for news of him. People he didn’t even know existed in Stiles life were suddenly all around him, and it took his son getting sick to learn just how distant they’d become.
And now that he’d learned all this, made a promise to himself to fix it, he realized he could very well never see his son alive again and it shattered his heart to his feet.
It was maddening not being able to hear if his son was okay, he was praying, sitting here praying that they wouldn’t take his boy from him, not today. Not ever, let him pass of old age and his son give him a burial, grow old with his own kids and let him never experience the pain of his wife passing. He knew without Stiles, he would have lost himself down some dark ways.
He looked at the pack of kids gathered around Derek and tilted his head at them, they were all touching him in some way, not inappropriately, but resting their hands on his ankles or legs and he…he seemed content with it. Scott seemed almost like he wanted to join them even it was….weird. But whatever kept this place from becoming a mass of tears and panic, he wouldn’t be able to handle that at all.
The whole group, minus Allison’s head snapped up, and soon heels filled the sound of the empty halls. The Doctor came in carrying her clipboard, a man beside her. It must be the specialist she was talking about earlier, she didn’t look of bad news, but she didn’t look happy either. He was up and out of his chair almost instantly, Scott behind him, the pack of teens leaning in as well.
"Dr.Grey" He said slowly, turning to look at the other man before holding his hand out.
“Sheriff Stilinski correct?” He nodded. “I’m Dr.Caffrey I was called in to offer my expertise in helping your son….” He paused seeing all the teens gathered behind him, and gave them warm smiles gesturing for them to gather around.
"I suspect that your son had the unfortunate luck of contracting Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever" declared Dr.Caffrey, his voice serious now, the warm face gone and hard with long years, years of delivering news of varying tragedy.
Every ones face was blank, or as close some could get. That didn’t really explain much. The Sheriff was the first to really snap forward.
"You 'suspect'?" He asked with a frown, suspect wasn’t a good word, it wouldn’t hold up in court, it wouldn’t be a cause for a warrant. You needed cold hard facts, not the grey in between.
"In cases like these there's always a degree of uncertainty. This disease is particularly hard to diagnose in the earlier stages. Especially since your son…Stiles, has not manifested the rashes that comes with this disease. But, judging from the blood tests, the tick bite, and the other symptoms, we do believe it is Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. If he doesn't respond to the doxycycline…then we're wrong." He says it like it’s simple.
Tick? All of them frowned quickly, even Derek who was suddenly much more interested in the conversation than the hall way.
"Wait, you saying that a tick did this to my kid?" The Sheriff asked incredulously. “I thought ticks carried uh Lyme disease….plus Stiles, he knows how to look for them and everything”
"Not all ticks carry lyme disease, some don’t carry any at all, and some carry other diseases, The tick was carrying the spotted fever, and passed it to your son when it bit him. I would say that he's had symptoms for quite a while for it to progress to such a serious state. Flu-like symptoms would have started about roughly a week ago or slightly more," he answered.
“He didn’t say anything until Friday” Scott said slowly.
“He’s had headaches all week” Derek added though, and they looked at him when the Sheriff spoke again.
“But how did my son come in contact with the tick? I know the woods carry them of course, but Stiles is a smart kid, he grew up knowing all the places to check”
"We believe he picked it up, engaging in some….acts in the woods. The location of the tick bite isn’t one normally looked at like the knees or armpits" Dr.Caffrey answered softly, different reactions passing across the groups faces from guilt to uncomfortable. Everyone in this group had the smarts to put together what that meant.
"He was awake for a while, during our examination. Of course, at that time he was running a 105-degree fever. He didn't stay coherent for very long. The meds we have him on will make him…a bit meaner than normal when he does wake up, but were still not sure if it’s the tick bite causing this the blood test haven’t come back and the medication we have him on could be doing nothing but making him irritated right now but it’s the best answer we’ve gotten since he’s come in"
“So what your saying is, you still aren’t even certain that it’s what’s causing him to be ill in the first place? That this is a gamble.” The man breathed slowly, and the other doctor stepped in.
“Were doing all we can and were going with our strongest lead right now, with the bite, the symptoms and the admittance of being…less than clothed in the woods is what we have right now. With the way his fevers stabilized and even down, we believe we’ve found the answer but the bodies have a way of acting like everything’s okay one second and twisting downward just as quickly. We’re not giving the exact confirmation until were a hundred present certain”
"But he's going to be okay, right?" Allison asked anxiously stepping into the conversation.
"He's comfortable and resting well" Dr.Caffrey quickly reassured them, eyes meeting Stiles Dads, a serious look coming across his face again. "It is good that you found him when you did. Any longer than that…and he might have suffered from further complications. The delirium was complicating enough. Now that he's on antibiotics we could tackle the problem before it gets more serious."
"Can we see him?" Scott quickly asked the second he was done talking keeping the man next to him from slipping into guilt, being shushed by the others right away, he smiled though.
"Sure. But two at a time, and please know he’s really weak now with the medication and fever" He nodded gesturing, of course Stiles Dad was the first, but Scott looked around and stepped with Allison. “I’ll wait….Derek you go” Derek could have very well got whiplash from the way his head snapped, they knew though.
They could feel him, his wolf, they knew that he was keeping it all in and seeing Stiles could help him. He nodded slowly, not arguing and following the Doctor and Sheriff, who while he had an odd look on his face, couldn’t get his mind off the Doctors words.
If it wasn’t for this leather jacket wearing almost felon, his son could have very well died. He tried to ignore the fact his hands were shaking right now with the thought. That his neglect the past few days could of resulted in something he’d never even imagined, yes there was no way he could of known but none of this should of happened in the first place.
With all the thoughts running through in his head.
He needed to see his kid. He needed to, he wanted to hold his hand and run his fingers through that silly buzz cut he insisted on and just tell him it would be okay. He would fix this, they would fix this. They had to fix this.
When they walked in, Derek tensed up instantly, the smells and sounds in the room invading his senses, around his mate and he wanted to shove them away. The Sheriff looked like he was trying not to break at the sight. Stiles looked as if he was in the middle of a bad dream. His clothes were soaked with sweat and his face even paler than earlier, and his breathing was erratic. The oxygen mask over his face trying to do it’s best to help him with that. Derek and the man next to him were tense, just because it hurt just to see him struggling like this.
Occasionally, he would mutter something unintelligible, and then resume his restless sleep turning a bit in the bed and whining before stilling once more.
The Sheriff moved finally, carefully and slowly as if hoping he’d wake up and it be a sick dream, standing next to his sons bed after a moment.
"Can I touch him?" He asked softly fingers twitching, wanting to so badly but he had to make sure no harm would come of it.
The doctor looked uncertain for a moment, but, seeing a parent like this he understood, he couldn’t bring himself to give the answer he needed to even if he wanted to and nodded. "Be careful not to wake him," he whispered to him patting his shoulder and leaving the room to give the two a moment alone.
He nodded and tentatively reached out to touch his son’s hand. Derek’s wolf whined at him wanting the same contact, but he couldn’t, he honestly couldn’t Stiles, strong, brave, and independent Stiles was so pale he looked as if he would break if he were touched. Stiles wasn’t suppose to look this way, he was suppose to look like a challenge, someone who stood up to Derek to protect the pack when he got snappy, who shoved Derek right back around when he thought he was out of line.
Stiles, thankfully, didn't awake at the touch. It almost seemed as if he was soothed by it; his restless movements had ceased a little, and he appeared to drift off to sleep. He stood there for a few minutes, the room in nothing but silence as the two watched him sleep.
“God I’m so sorry Genim…” He whispered and Derek’s head snapped up for the second time in the last few minutes at the pure, raw emotion coming from the man in front of him, he hadn’t felt this, not since Laura, not since the discovery of the death of his family. He was rubbing his thumb over the hand in his, and Derek felt like he’d slipped in another reality just seeing how small his hand was compared to his Dads.
“You hated that name so much after your Mom died, the school didn’t even cross me when I talked to them….I remember how close the three of us were….and now….” He shook his head. “I’m sorry kiddo…” He breathed. Derek’s eyes flashed red and he turned his head away, the emotion, and his mate. The smells. He hated this place so much….and now he had more reason to.
Derek finally moved forward, not sure which one was moving right now before he was standing behind the man, his hand coming down slowly, resting there after a moment. The Sheriff jerked under the touch turning up, rubbing at his face and looking away after a quick second.
“You….mean a lot to my son don’t you? All felony aside…” Derek just nodded. “I…for whatever reason you came this morning…you could of very well saved his life, and…..despite me first meeting you in cuffs, I…thank you”
“It felt off” He said, his voice was rough, tight with emotion and the Sheriff turned up. “I don’t know what it was, I was. Sitting and it just something told me to make sure he was okay…” He was pretty sure after now there relationship was outed anyway.
The man nodded slowly hand tightening on his sons. “He’s such a stupid pain in the ass” He laughed through his tears.
It was a long while before the two came out, Derek still had his hand on the man’s shoulder, but he seemed more grounded than he had before. While the Doctor had said they could visit two at a time, they promised more visits after they ran a few more tests and the rest of the teens understood completely. Returning to their camp in the waiting room until they could all see him.
“Don’t…” The man said slowly voice still heavy with emotion. “Don’t you kids need to be getting home?” They all looked up at him from there positions. Derek and him were side by side now, Scott taking the other side of him, the teens were scattered around the floor in front of him and Derek.
“We don’t have homes” Boyd said gruffly after a minute.
“And while some of us do. Stiles means far more to any of us than lunch with the family, or going out” Allison added. They all seemed confused by his question even and he nodded not pushing any further.
His son was so lucky to have these people.
I want to thank everyone who comments, views, kudos and bookmarks this story.
I honestly get excited about every single one of those parts and without you guys this story wouldn't really be worth writing, thank you all so much!
I do reach each and every comment, so really thank you.
I hope to post tomorrows update earlier than this late.
Chapter 6: We're wasting time
So sorry for the update taking so long!
My roommates came back from vacation so I was spending time with them.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Sunday dragged on, Ms.McCall showed up with food for everyone, promising to come back when her shift was over. No more news came of Stiles though, the Doctor let a few of the others come in and see him between their work, but by late afternoon the pack back to sitting around whispering amongst one another about varying subject.
Night rolled in and Allison was forced to leave and Jackson and Lydia soon followed, Scotts Mom got off her shift bringing food for the ones still around before forcing him to head home as well, he could come after school tomorrow but right now he was only accomplishing making himself sick. He was already failing three classes and lurking around wasn’t going to help Stiles any, if anything else happened she promised to call him out of class.
Derek looked at the three in his pack, and soon they left to, school tomorrow pulling the wolves and humans all away from their friends. He had to be a parental figure to his pack and if making them get a good night sleep before school was an attempt, then he’d try it.
Soon it was Derek and the Sheriff alone once again, the silence of the waiting room becoming overwhelming once more to Derek’s senses and the Sheriff’s thoughts. The man finally broke it after a long pause turning.
“You and Stiles….” He didn’t know how to really ask, how do you ask someone you’ve arrested multiple times if there dating you son? Your son who was underage just a few months prior, he just couldn’t figure out to word it and he didn’t want to somehow upset the closest connection to his son since Scott.
Derek just nodded, seeming to get the question anyway, he knew this was coming before it was even asked, and spent time thinking of the right things to say in Stiles absence. “He was the first person I trusted…since… my family” He didn’t expand; he didn’t feel like he needed to, the Sheriff knew who killed the Hale family, and while he didn’t know Derek’s connection to Kate it was open that something happened. The man was there, putting a blanket around two teens who came home to find their lives would never be the same. He knew something more happened behind a crazy woman and a fire.
The Sheriff nodded sighing and looking up at the ceiling. “You…..Scott said only a few months that you two….”
“When he turned 18 yes, we promised to wait” The man nodded, thinking about it for a moment. Before sighing, he couldn’t argue that really.
“And your serious about this? About him? Because…I hope it’s not just some joke, I will not hesitate to arrest you for everything I can think of.”
Derek shook his head finally looking at the man next to him. “He makes me happy. And I really hope I do the same to him” The man didn’t ask any more after that despite the hundreds of questions on his mind, why Stiles, how, how long and various other ones. But he felt he should wait until his son was better, to where they both could answer. When things were fixed.
It wasn’t until Monday night that the Doctor spoke to the Sheriff again her face much more hopeful than it had been the past few days. Which made him feel all the better already, he kept waiting for the moment that someone turned around and told him it wasn’t what they thought, and Stiles had gotten worse. That he died while his Dad took a dinner break.
"His fever has come down to 104," Dr.Grey said softly, her face smiling as they walked to his son’s room in the ICU, there was barely anyone in these halls the town so small, but he kept remembering the last time he was here, with his wife. "He's showing signs of improvement, thanks to the antibiotics. A very good sign."
"Has he been awake?"
"Off and on, but never too long. He'll be spending the next few days asleep more than awake. We had to sedate him, because the fever was causing delirious, he kept yelling about wolves and other things, we felt it be best before he ripped his IV out." She said softly, concern marring her voice.
“And he’s…….better now? No more delusions?” Wolves? That was strange, but with the animal attacks maybe not too far out there.
The Doctor gave him a smile patting his shoulder. “He’s doing a lot better Michael, a lot better. His fevers down a degree, which means the meds are doing their job. It’ll be awhile before he’s back to his normal hyper self but he’ll only get better from here on out”
When they got to Stiles room Dr.Grey reminded him that he should stay no longer than ten minutes and left him alone with his son. They usually stayed longer than ten minutes but if it helped her feel better saying it he was just going to let her.
He entered the room, his eyes immediately drawn to his sons weak features, the IV lines he was connected to, and the heartbeat monitor which beeped steadily but slowly. He then sighed and sank into the uncomfortable chair beside Stiles bed.
Stiles was sleeping the kind of sleep one had when one's exhausted from sickness or injury. He still looked like hell, but he actually looked better than he did in the ambulance yesterday. He no longer shook from the chills, for one that's a good sign in his book. And it was something the man didn't ever want to see again.
"What am I going to do with you, kiddo?" he muttered into the silence of the room.
Coming so close to losing him like that had made him realize just how much their relationship had been suffering lately. How far they’d gone from working together and Stiles telling him everything to him hiding a boyfriend, his sex life, and all his friends. While Stiles had been, less than the picture perfect son, he also had been less than a good father in return.
It killed him. It physically killed him to learn all these things about his son, from people who loved and cared from him so much, that he didn’t even know existed until now. How far had things gone between them for things to be like this?
He wondered if they could even fix it, he hoped they could.
Suddenly, Stiles shifted in the bed. He made a small sound of discomfort as he shifted to his side. As he moved to his side, he cradled the arm with the IV protectively. In his efforts, his son’s thin blanket had almost slipped completely away.
He got up and gently adjusted the blankets, tucking him in and remembering all those times he’d taken care of Stiles when he was young and sick, just like now, only now was much worse. Stiles did not stir from the movements.
But he was certainly awake.
He looked cautiously into Stiles half-open eyes. He couldn't tell if the kid was lucid or not, it made the situation slightly dangerous, his son could easily lash out and hurt himself. He wondered if it was still the delirium talking when the kid said weakly "Hi."
"Hi," he replied uncertainly, wondering if he should call the Doctor.
Stiles sighed and shifted a little again. He blinked and whispered hoarsely: "This is not my bedroom."
"No," He answered shortly. “No kiddo its not” Then he gave his son a small smile.
"I thought … I'd die in there," he said, gazing at him dazedly. "And that you'd find me weeks later … or something. I hate the thought of me….rotting alone."
He still wasn't sure if Stiles was lucid or not and the conversation was far from one he wanted to have, but he answered him anyway.
"You think I’d let you miss school like that kiddo? No…"
Stiles gave him a faint smile. "Yeah" he whispered. He was so glad to see the smile, even if it was a pale shadow of his usual grins and laughs.
Stiles fell silent after that, studying a spot beside his Dad intently. He wondered if his sons mind had wandered off again … until amber eyes shifted back to his.
"You found me?"
"No kiddo, well…I guess I did, but the Hale kid came over to check on you, and we found you…” He was sure it wasn’t the proper answer, but it was the truth.
"Derek? Is he here?” Stiles muttered, looking around weakly.
He quickly frowned. “He went to deal with something, down the hall, he figured you’d be asleep…I can find him for you if you want kid”
Not that he had any time to do so anyway, Stiles had already drifted off to sleep.
He found himself being dragged to consciousness. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to be awake; his body ached, his head pounded mercilessly and he felt overwhelmingly weak, a fact which startled him more than he would like to admit.
He felt someone strap a cuff around his arm and frowned when he felt it tightening. Cautiously, he opened his eyes and turned his head toward the offending contraption. Ms.McCall looked up in surprise when he moved and smiled, but she still continued to check his blood pressure. She wore a nurse's uniform.
"You're awake" she said.
"Where…" he winced when his too-dry throat protested, "Where am I?" he finally managed.
"You're in the hospital, the ICU" she said.
"Mr.Stilinski?" Came another voice. He recognized it but he couldn’t place why.
It was the doctor, he thought, when the woman came to his side. At least he could remember that much, even if he couldn't remember how he had ended up here.
"I'm glad to see you awake and lucid," the doctor said. "How are you feeling?"
Why do doctors ask that, when it was obvious he was feeling anything but okay?
"Sore," he finally said. He thought it was an economical way of saying that he felt like shit.
"It's to be expected. Your fever is no longer at dangerous levels; you're going to be just fine," he reassured him.
"How long … have I been here?"
The Doctor hesitated before answering: "You've been here for four days."
"What? I don't remember …" Stiles tried to sit up, but the doctor gently pushed him down to the bed.
"You were delirious for most of it and asleep as well."
Bits and pieces of memories – or were they dreams – came to him. Talking to his Dad … something about school and Derek. He thought he spoke to someone else … once, he thought he awoke to see Derek and Scott at his side, reading something. They were all jumbled up together with strange dreams of mazes, wolves and hunters. He wasn't sure what was what …
"Anyway, you need to rest now, Mr.Stilinski," the doctor declared, handing her clipboard to Ms.McCall. "We'll be giving you something to help you sleep."
"I don't need to sleep," he protested weakly. “I want to see the others….Derek….my Dad said he was here…before”
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "I'm glad you're showing some spirit, but right now you need your rest, they can visit tomorrow, even Mr.Hale. Good night, Mr.Stilinski."
Stiles had to reluctantly agree with the doctor. His eyelids slowly closed and against his will, he was pulled back into the sleep – this time a peaceful sleep, one that was devoid of the chaos of wolves and death.
It has been five days since Stiles was brought into the ICU. And fortunately for him, he'd done nothing but improve since then. By the third day of his hospital stay, his fever had finally lowered enough for the doctors not to be worried, and he was shifted from the ICU to a regular ward.
The pack visited every day after school, and Derek never left his side. Once the condition was given a plus on the improvement, the Sheriff went home, showered, called into work, and took his seat right next to Derek. The two had even begun to talk to one another, about various things, the Hale House came up once or twice and Derek’s plans to rebuild it, his relationship with the teens in the group and so on.
Stiles remained asleep mostly, only occasionally being awake, and even then it was a high chance he wasn’t really there when he was awake.
The Sheriff came into his sons room to hear him talking to Scott about wolfs bane chasing him and why Scott wasn’t running away, and Lydia should stop glowing because it hurt his eyes. He’d hold a perfectly normal conversation with them only to quickly change to a whole new topic. He seemed confused sometimes on where he was or even what was going on.
These bouts of confusion worried them, but the doctor said it was normal, thanks to his condition. Dr.Grey reassured them that he'd get back to normal very soon.
He was coming back from home, Derek had taken over staying with him at night in promise that he’d call the minute anything changed, he smiled at Melissa leaning over the counter not wanting to walk in right away.
"How is he today?" he asked.
"Asleep most of the time," She said with a wry smile. It was a good thing right now, it meant his body was healing and he needed all his strength elsewhere.
"But I have good news. His fever broke this morning," Melissa said - almost cheekily - punctuating her announcement with a big smile.
He looked at her in surprise, and then sighed deeply in relief and smiled broadly. "That's really good news." He felt like jumping up and down, but they really weren’t out of the woods yet.
"Yeah. He was even awake for a while – he woke up when I was checking his blood pressure," She said, grinning happily, she knew how she’d feel if it was her son, and she’d know Stiles for so long she felt almost like he was her kid.
"Was he lucid?"
"Yeah, I'd say so. He insisted that he didn't need to sleep. Asked for Derek," said Melissa, who then rolled her eyes.
He had to laugh at that. His son obviously had his priorities. “Thank you, is Derek?”
“Only left when I asked him to” She nodded and he thanked her, walking into his sons room. Since being moved he’d gained numerous get well balloons, cards, gift baskets, and cards. They nearly consumed one half of the room, flowers riding his room of the sterile smell. Derek was leaning in the chair, hand tangled with Stiles, petting over his hair with the other hand. Amber eyes half lidded and talking softly back to him. He stood for a minute letting the two have their time.
He was so happy to just see his son well again.
This story could go many ways but things will be fixed in the Stilinski family before the end.
And Sterek will continue.
Chapter 7: I can face it, I can take it
I've been working on this chapter the past few days and It'll never work the way I want it to.
But I hope you enjoy it regardless c:
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Stiles opened his eyes slowly. The blurry ceiling slowly sharpened … and he frowned. Funny, he thought. If his memory served him right, he should be feeling better, that he was getting better. But instead …
He wasn't sure how to describe how he felt right now. Dizzy…yes. Lethargic. Double yes. Then there's a strange coldness creeping up on him. He didn't like that cold much at all, it reminded him of the woods, being alone in the dark running from something but the cold did nothing but surround him.
He shifted his head to the side, and to his surprise he saw Ms.McCall, she was here before, when he woke up and she told him Derek was here….When was it? Why was it so hard to think again? The other day he wasn’t having issues like this….or was he?
She gave him a tight smile – the kind of smile you give someone to reassure them that everything was fine when it was not. That was his first clue.
Then she looked somewhere to her left and said, "Dr.Caffrey, you have to see this." She then handed the person a clipboard.
She sounded worried. That was the second clue.
Dr.Caffrey came to his side, studied the chart she presented him. Then it was his turn to give Stiles a concerned look.
That was his third clue.
"So … am I dying?" he asked them. Melissa looked startled, but she didn't give him a reassuring smile like he expected her to. She just looked at the doctor uncertainly, as if to ask him what she should say. Like she didn’t want to say yes when it was correct and have him go into panic.
"Not if I could help it, Stiles," the doctor said gravely. He then whispered something to Scott’s Mom– it was too soft for him to hear what it was. It was done deliberately, he supposed. If they were trying not to worry him, it was failing miserably. All it was doing was causing him to panic more.
Then the doctor leaned low his voice going soft and comforting.
"We're going to take you to the ICU now to run some tests. You're in good hands, so you need not worry."
He swallowed. He was seriously in trouble, wasn't he? The ICU again….he really wanted his Dad right now, or Derek. He managed a weak nod and then felt the doctor squeeze his hand in reassurance.
"You're going to be fine."
He want to believe that….no he had to believe that, he thought as he closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. He wondered what crisis his body was in now. It really did not want to give him a break right now.
Surprisingly, despite his anxiety, he drifted off to sleep. However, he stirred when the orderlies shifted him to a gurney and clutched the rails at the side of his bed in reflex to support himself. Then they were wheeling him out. Suddenly, he found a warm hand envelop his. He looked up to see…..Derek? Where did he come from? Stiles was almost positive he wasn’t there a minute ago.
He smiled down at him, well the best smile Derek could put on, but Stiles saw right through it. Like he was putting it on for his benefit, Stiles didn’t want that but at the same time it was a comfort to him, to have that right now.
"Hey," he said softly. He gave a smile back, wondering if it was good enough to be reassuring.
“Hey yourself, you’re going to be okay Stiles there here to help alright?” He said gruffly.
"Okay" he said. He felt embarrassed at sounding so faint and weak. He didn't like people he knew to see him so debilitated. But he supposed he didn't exactly have a say in this matter. Derek was a calming presence right now, really so. It did help him feel like he was going to be okay, because if Derek said to trust them, then he could trust them.
They wheeled him away and Derek was forced to let him go. He wished Derek could come, because right now it was really helping to have someone hold his hand like that. Ms.McCall seemed to get the message taking his place in his boyfriend’s absence and he gave her a weak smile.
"There has been a complication."
Normally the Sheriff had no issues getting in to see his son since his condition had begun to improve, but this time, Melissa simply gave him a look and he was sent to the waiting room. Doctors and nurses rushing in and out of his son’s room, it felt like the nightmare was starting all over again involving his son, just when he finally reached the clear it all crashed down again. The man finally appeared, looking nothing lithe Sheriff wanted him to.
"He's bleeding internally," Dr.Caffrey said shortly. His expression was a careful neutral, but he could still spy the worry behind the man's blue eyes.
"What does that mean?" he asked. It means that he's losing blood. It means that his road to recovery wasn't as smooth as we thought it would be. It means he could still die. But he asked because he wanted to hear what it meant for Stiles, what it meant for his son.
"The bacteria had attacked the lining of the blood vessels, causing liquid to leak from it. In some cases, there is bleeding; he's anemic as a result, but the fact that his blood pressure is dropping so fast and so suddenly worries me. Still, it reassures me that … that there doesn't seem to be any indication of major organ damage or fluid in his lungs," he said. “But….it’s a complication that can lead to unfavorable routes”
"You're saying that he could die, aren't you?" Derek said, stepping around the man to sit by the Sheriff again.
Dr.Caffrey’s eyes shifted briefly to him. Then he shook his head. "I am certainly not saying that, Mr.Hale. Although it's a complication we do not need, I want to re-emphasize that Stiles is young and healthy. And strong, while it would be there, right now it’s simply not an option I’m willing to see" he said.
There was a brief, taut silence then the doctor said gently. "We'll be giving him a blood transfusion soon. I'll let you know if there's a change in his condition."
Then they heard a noise coming from Stiles room and saw attendants wheeling him out of his room. Derek quickly moved to his mate’s side, talking to him for a while before letting him go. He had to reassure him, for Stiles and for himself, before moving back to stand next to the Sheriff.
The two watched the nurses and Doctors move him quickly back to the ICU, and possibly surgery from the way things sounded. The rest of the pack showed up as soon as they got the call, taking their normal place in the waiting room. Derek felt better having them around again, it made him less want to kill everyone and help Stiles himself.
"This is unfair" Scott said softly, looking at the ICU again. "They said he was getting better," He said accusingly, trying to find someone at fault for his friend’s illness, even when there really was no one to blame.
Derek just shook his head and gritted his teeth in frustration. He felt the same – and knowing that despite all his abilities, all the things he’d done for these kids. He couldn’t help his mate right now, and even the science that Stiles believed in so much as failing him.
The fever came back with some kind of twisted vengeance, with it came dreams, awful horrible bloody dreams. Dreams of wolves and hunters. Watching his father and Derek die, watching everything he loved be ripped away from him in some kind of twisted game. Wolves killing humans and humans killing wolves.
He was sobbing, screaming, clawing out trying to do anything to help but his body felt so heavy and so painful. He couldn’t save them no matter what.
"Shh," someone whispered. A hand brushed through his hair, a thumb pushing on his forehead. Green eyes and dark hair, a concerned face peered down at him.
"Derek" he whispered. Derek had seen him crying in his sleep … but somehow he didn't have the energy to feel embarrassed. Instead, he shifted his head to his side and tried to stop his tears.
But he couldn't.
The other gently wrapped an arm around his shaking body, making soothing noises as he cried softly.
"I can’t stop seeing death" he whispered after a while.
He could see Derek frown. "I won’t let any of that happen to you Stiles” Stiles turned his eyes to Derek, but the machine next to him caught his eyes, it was connected to his arm through what looked like an IV drip … only, it was filled with blood.
He was getting a blood transfusion. His knowledge supplied him.
Stiles stared at it morbidly, wondering how the blood could push its way into his body. Wondered whose blood was it – he was B-. He wondered whether they had a hard time getting the blood. Derek pulled his eyes back up to him.
“It’s here to help you okay, we won’t let anything happen to you….” He didn’t feel like correcting Derek that it wasn’t him the one he kept seeing die, sleep finally claimed him again.
Everything lost clarity after that.
He vaguely remembered Dr.Grey looking at him worriedly. The doctor was asking him something, but Stiles found it too difficult to concentrate, so he decided to slide back to sleep again.
Then there was the nurse who said something to someone on her left. "Pressure is falling. Respiration is getting weaker, Doctor" she had said.
The sound of machines. One beeping, another hissing. He had cautiously fingered the nasal cannula on his face, it felt weird and smelled funny and he kept wondering why he needed it.
He slept a lot … then …
"Hey kiddo," said his father. He was by his bed sitting in a chair; he was in his casual clothes which felt like it was wrong somehow in his mind. His Dad always wore his uniform it seemed. He gave him a weak smile. “You feel okay?"
"I think so," he answered weakly.
"Listen to me, kid. You're not going anywhere yet," his father said as he carefully. “You’re doing better and better each day…”
- "Going where?" he wondered out loud, there was no answer to his question though.
He didn't know when his father left and someone else appeared in that chair. It seemed as if a chunk of time went missing and he couldn't remember what happened in between.
"So. Derek's really cranky the past few days. I could've sworn that he was about to deck the nurses yesterday. Which I mean come on they don’t know he’s some werewolf wanting to protect-" Scott lifted his eyes to look at him and then blinked in surprise.
"You're awake," he smiled broadly.
Stiles wasn't that sure, but he gave his friend a reassuring smile.
"Sorry to wake you. I mean, I think mom would kill me if she found out," he whispered to the other teen.
"What day is it?" he croaked. Boy did he sound terrible. His voice couldn't seem to rise above a whisper either.
"Ah … Monday," said Scott, his voice slow and unsure.
"School…..and the moon. The full Moon is tonight isn’t it…..why are you here is it almost dark?”
“Don’t worry about it Stiles. Trust me….” He didn’t really want to quite break it to Stiles that it was the following Monday and he’d been asleep most of the week.
"You're going to be okay, Sty." That was his Dad, who reached to grasp his hand. He wondered where Scott went. Maybe Scott was never there, and he imagined his friend instead of his Dad. That seemed like an odd thing to imagine…or maybe he fell asleep. God his head still hurt.
He wanted to tell his dad to relax and not worry about him so much because the heavy frown on his dad forehead was starting to make him anxious, plus none of this could be good for his heart. But before he could muster the energy to say something, his Dad said, "You had your last blood transfusion yesterday … you had us worried for a few days there. And your fever returned but it was low and to be expected they said, which was a good sign. You're going to be okay. They caught it early" he said.
It took him a minute to realize that this was his dad’s version of babbling. He found it strangely hilarious. He smiled at him wanly (couldn't manage a laugh), and when his Dad saw his smile, the frown disappeared and he smiled broadly.
Everything that went down between them; it didn't matter now. His Dad had been here the whole time, been a part of the duo that found him. He felt better knowing his Dad still cared so much, and felt like an idiot for doubting it. It would take a lot of talking between the two, and Derek, but he felt like things could be fixed now.
He felt Stiles squeeze his hand – it was weak, but it nevertheless reassured him that he was understood
He looked up from his sons pale hand and found him sleeping again. He sighed and patted the boys hand once more and leaned back slowly in the uncomfortable chair.
The past few days had been hellish. The doctors seemed uncertain about Stiles condition, and Dr.Grey had cautiously warned them that it could go both ways – he could either improve or deteriorate drastically.
And it had been nine days since they found him in his room… a long time for him to be sick. Dr.Grey’s good news that his sons internal bleeding had gone away couldn’t have come at better time. If he had to look at him so broken one more time he was going to throw a chair out the window.
And he seemed less pale, he thought to himself, looking at the teens drawn features.
His sons detour into this crisis had affected everyone who knew him, on the second day of his sons second stay in the ICU, he had found the Lydia girl his son had loved so much sitting in the waiting area outside his room, looking dazed. She told him that Stiles had woken up crying, Derek apparently had to deal with the same thing, and how she had tried to calm him down until he fell asleep.
"And I had to be strong for him, you know? But I was tearing up inside. He stayed at the hospital the entire time I was there, I never saw him but my mom told me and my Dad, and he helped me so much even if he never realized and I just. I can’t do anything in return" she had snapped, her eyes shining from unshed tears and anger.
And he had sat beside his son that night, staring at the heartbeat monitor and letting the hissing of the respirator machine lull him into a dazed state where his mind wandered back to their relationship. He’d been extremely absent in his sons life, and it seemed as if his kid went and found himself his own family. From all the teens in the waiting room and his room, it was strange. But it made him realize just how much Stiles had needed him lately and he wasn’t there.
Every moment his son tried to talk to him he shoved him back saying he needed to go to work, or other various excuses that seemed to all lead up to here. Everyone seemed to have some big realization about Stiles. How close they came to losing him they all realized how much he meant and how badly they’d been to him.
While each began to deal with everything going on in their own way, he for him it was a wake-up call to fix the mess their relationship had become before it was too late. And it was nearly too late. Stiles was his son, his only child, the only child his wife could give before the illness spread through her body and took her from the world.
He made a promise to her, when she died, to protect their little boy from the dangers of the world. He’d failed recently, but as of now. He found himself making a promise to fix it all.
If Stiles would let him, then he would give it his all.
Only two more chapters to go!
I hope you guys enjoyed
Beep ... Beep ... Beep ...
The empty welcomed silence faded into the sound of a muted beep. An annoying, continuous repetitive beeping sound that made him want to groan and punch someone. Not Derek because that shit hurts more than one would think but someone.
As he struggled to consciousness, Stiles instantly became aware of his body, it was hard not to how it ached, how his head was pounding. He was becoming uncomfortably familiar with the feeling.
And he found himself looking at a bland, white ceiling. The darkness had faded away; he’d been here for a while. He knew that much, a few days possibly. How many he wasn’t sure but he had a somewhat stringed together memory of waking up, talking, he wasn’t entirely sure though.
"You awake Sty?"
That voice. He turned towards the sound, and Scott smiled at him, looking almost excited. But he could see the anxiety in his eyes. Worried ... for him? Maybe Allison was around somewhere because no way Scott was this worried over him.
"It's about time you woke up. I was getting bored, sitting here your Dad just dragged Derek out to get some food, they figured you’d be asleep for the next 30 minutes while they were gone, guess you really do love to prove them wrong." He was laughing but it sounded forced almost.
"Hospital," he concluded when he raised an arm and saw an IV line which snaked around it. There were bruises on his arm where they had poked and prodded him with the IV line. They stood out vividly on his pale skin.
"Yeah," Scott said, nodding his voice unsure. Unsure if Stiles was really all there right now, he was glad they thought he’d been delirious the past few days talking about the werewolves and all.
The details returned to him. He was sick. His Dad and Derek found him … the doctor told him that he had been in the hospital for the past four days. Then he got sick again …Or maybe he never got better to begin with he wasn’t really sure there were a concerning number of gaps in his memory.
Vaguely, Stiles remembered talking to His Dad … Derek … even Allison and Lydia. But he could only remember bits and snatches of conversations. Even then not all of them made sense in his mind right now.
It was disorienting – and frankly a little worrying for a guy who relied on his memory the way he did to help the pack as much as he did, Derek always relied on his memory, to not remember clearly what he had been doing the past few days.
But he hadn't felt this clear-headed in days. Which he took as a positive.
He carefully placed the hand with the IV on his chest, wanting to keep it out of the way. "How long have I been here?" he rasped, almost afraid of the answer. He hoped he hadn't slept a few more days away since the last time the doctor visited him.
Scot gave him a small smile, looking around before sighing and giving in. "Thirteen days."
"What?" he gasped.
He merely nodded before saying: "Well … you were out of your head for most of it." Always the blunt one but Stiles enjoyed the honesty a little bit, he was sure his Dad would try to sugar coat it in some way to keep him from panicking or worrying.
"Was that supposed to be … reassuring?" He said anyway, because Scott could have at least given him a date or something and let him guess and pretend.
"Yeah. Sorta." He threw him a mischievous smile.
He took it in. Thirteen days. Thirteen days in bed. He hadn't been in bed that long in his life, even after Derek came into his life and runs through the woods with hunters ended up with more injured than the pack.
"So, what did I have?" he asked as he tried to sit up.
"Woah woah I don’t think you should sit up Stiles, the Doctors still say you’re recovering you could injure yourself again”
"Sitting up," he said as he, again, tried to sit up. He didn’t like laying down knowing he’d been down that long.
"You shouldn't be moving Stiles.” Scott and Stiles both turned to see Allison leaning on the doorway, Stiles knew she had to be here somewhere, looking down the hall nervously before turning back in. “You just got out of ICU yesterday, and a couple of days ago you were bleeding internally. You could really hurt yourself right now and no one wants another one of those heart attack moments" Allison said softly, her voice soft, motherly almost and she came in to sit next to Scott, the duo looking at him with concern. He wasn’t digging the look at all though; he hated people concerned over him really, despite that for once in the past year someone was fully paying attention to him.
"Guys seriously I've been on my back for thirteen days. I think it's time for me to get off it a bit," he muttered Allison sighed giving Scott a look and moved to stand again rearranging his pillows and helping him as much as he’d let her. His arms trembled as he pushed himself up, and he found himself struggling for breath as he sat up. He ended up lying back against the stack of pillows, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes and willed himself to regain his breath, embarrassed that this little activity proved how correct the two were. Neither said anything though, Allison moved over to the table beside him pouring a cup of water and Scott looked at his phone and smiled at him again.
When he finally caught his breath, Allison handed him a cup of water, which he stubbornly took – the last thing he wanted was to let anyone feed him anything. While he sipped the water cautiously, trying his best to keep his hands from shaking too hard Derek and his Dad came back in talking softly and freezing in the doorway at him sitting up, drinking water and acting as though he hadn’t spent the last few days in an ICU getting transfusions. Derek was over in a second, and Stiles simply raised an eyebrow at him the cup still on his lips. His Dad was grinning like the Mets won the World Series. He hadn’t seen that look on his Dad’s face in a very long time.
“You feel okay? You sure you should be sitting up?” Stiles went to protest but Allison spoke for him before he could. “We already tried that speech Mr.Stilinski, he seems okay” She gestured to all the monitors. He smiled at her seeing his Dad relax and take Allison’s seat.
“So sourwo-Derek, you gonna sit to or do the whole Edward Cullen silent mope stare?” He turned the amber eyes up at Derek a weak smile on his face. Derek smiled right back, something he always saved for Stiles, and Scott kicked a chair behind him. “So….what’s the diagnosis? And I swear do not hide the facts or I will find means of revenge” His tone didn’t hold its normal strength, but it brought a smile on their faces regardless.
His Dad told him about the Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, watching his features change with the news, brain trying to process where he’d heard the name before. His memory recall was still extremely fuzzy right now and he hated it more than anything, Allison caught onto his frustration however and spoke up right away.
"Pretty exotic, huh?" Allison said with a grin.
"No. I was thinking that it's just my luck to get an illness that sounds more like an ice-cream flavor," he said sarcastically. He handed back the cup to her, feeling absurdly proud that his hand didn't shake this time. He finally put the name with an illness he read about, tick. He got all this from a tick bite. What the honest fuck.
“But….I mean normally before I shower I check all the places…where was it” His Dad raised an eyebrow, despite his fingers being crossed together in his lap, and pointed at his sons crotch. The teen groaned in embarrassment closing his eyes.
“You know” It wasn’t really a question but his Dad seemed to answer anyway.
“Oh I know.” Derek hadn’t said anything but Stiles was sure that meant conversations between the two went down. Goodie for him. He waved for one of them to continue explaining where thirteen days of his life had gone.
They explained Derek and his Dad finding him, coming to the hospital delirious, he groaned again at that making a face at Scott who simply nodded with a shrug. They talked about the relapse and all, on top of more delirious ramblings and Stiles just shook his head, fingers finding their way to Derek’s.
They were all just so relieved to make any commentary outside of switching view points and recapping the past few days for him, the four just so relieved to see him doing so much better. Everyone still remembered how Stiles looked a few days ago – he had looked so pale ... so unlike himself ... hooked up to machines and IV lines. And although everyone hoped for the best, a small part of each of them felt that he would never survive this. Then the delusions set in, and the crying and screaming and it broke each one in a different way. Derek on his inability to help his mate, Scott at his best friend’s pain and so on.
Then came the good news they all wanted to hear; and Stiles was finally released from the ICU yesterday. Still, Scott did not know what to expect when he opened his eyes moments ago. He had half expected him not to recognize him, or any of them.
What a difference a day made, he still looked awful, and they didn’t miss the weak tone of his voice. Half lidded eyes and pale complexion. But he was coherent, smiling and joking. They were on the road to recovery and it was a great feeling right now.
He had slept most of the day away, but awoke around late afternoon. Rather than spend the rest of his waking hours staring at the ceiling, Stiles had demanded – and then begged – to be let out of his room.
That begging worked the nurses finally relented, saying that he would be allowed a 15-minute visit and then it's back in bed for him.
"Here we are," declared Melissa cheerfully, he was really thankful she was his nurse really because he couldn’t imagine who had been dealing with him for the past few days and not be embarrassed otherwise. He smiled at her nodding a bit.
And if he knew how much trouble it was to get him out of bed, he would've reconsidered. First there was the humiliating experience of having two orderlies helping him to his wheelchair, ignoring his insistence that he could walk. Still, even with their support, he was left dizzy from the exertion. Not that he'd admit it out loud anyone around him and the orderlies – they seemed eager to put him back in bed. His weakness made him both embarrassed and furious. He had never been so sick that he couldn't take care of himself, and this little taste of it was enough.
Then there was the mothering.
Melissa seemed to take a perverse pleasure in babying him, which okay she did a lot of that after his Mother died enough to ease some of the ache as he grew up the same way his Dad did for Scott. He could go out, on the condition that he was well "covered up" despite the fall temperatures being fairly warm.
"You gotta be kidding me. It's still technically summer," he complained as she draped a blanket over his legs.
"Almost winter in fact. And it's getting dark out," Melissa said brightly as she smoothed out the blanket. Bad enough that he had to wear a silly robe that he was almost positive was covering up the fact the gown he was wearing didn’t cover his butt at all, now he had to sport a old man style blanket.
The dark corridor suddenly gave way to a bright open space.
Stiles blinked at the sudden intrusion of light and shifted uncomfortably in his wheelchair. It took him a long while to finally focus on the area around them despite the dim day.
"Must I be in this wheelchair?"
"Stiles honey, getting you out of bed was miracle enough with the doctors. I don't think I can perform another miracle," she said with a playful grimace. “I’m pretty sure your Dad will cuff you down”
He gave her a wan smile which she returned, and then she wheeled him down the covered walkway in silence. They were in a court yard the hospital squaring around them a large fountain in the middle surrounded by benches trees and flowers.
"Scott and the others were here just a little while ago, with Derek’s group." She said softly to him, not pausing in pushing him to the court yard. “But the Doctor ushered them out saying you needed sleep.”
He acknowledged her comment with a nod and looked absently at trees and flowers they briefly passed. He’d been feeling a little smothered lately with all the attention to be honest.
"They were with you almost every day," she said. "They must care for you a lot."
Again, he shifted in his wheelchair, only this time from embarrassment.
"Um, yeah ..." he said half-heartedly, it didn’t really feel like that the past few days, except for Derek but Derek also had his moments.
“Do you want me to leave you alone for a few minutes?” She said softly after a moment, once they reached the fountain in the center, he nodded at her, turning amber eyes up. She patted his head and turned around. “I’ll be back in a few minutes okay? Yell if you need anything” He turned back to the fountain watching the waters run down and the leaves float along the pond.
The past few weeks had been nothing but pain filled nightmares, his father was there though. Despite their distance the past few days even, he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The reveal of his relationship with an obviously older man was out there as well. He was sure no one knew the whole werewolf thing wasn’t completely fevered hallucinations though which was a plus for him.
He sighed looking up at the sky, the setting sun casting an orange and yellow light. He remembered the pure panic of his fever dreams, but always waking up to someone there, Scott, Derek, his Dad even Lydia and Allison. Sometimes Jackson was there but he never came close enough and Derek wouldn’t let the pack really get near him right now, he thinks it’s a wolf thing because they sneak in sometimes with Allison and that’s all he really remembers.
It was kind of bizarre how it took him getting so sick for them to realize him as much as they are right now, and he heard this morning about Derek being the one to bring his Dad’s attention to his illness. He remembers falling to the ground, not knowing where his phone was, honestly thinking he was going to die for the first time since Peter Hale, and holding onto his Dad to keep him from giving up. No one checked up on him until then, and he wondered if anyone would of ever did if Derek didn’t get the weird feeling he did. Probably not.
He carefully leaned forward to study his reflection in the water. He grimaced as he realized that he didn't look particularly healthy, not that he really expected to. There were dark circles under his eyes, had a week's worth of stubble and his hair was a mess. And he was pale – it was not going to do any favors for his already pale complexion.
"You look a lot better today kiddo.”
His Dads reflection appeared behind his. He turned around in surprise to see the man giving him a small smile.
"Melissa told me” He gestured to the door that lead back down to his room, Stiles had known his Dad for years and picked up the awkward undertones in his voice almost instantly.
He also found that he didn't know what to say to him. It may have been about five weeks since the two had really spoke to one another, they of course saw one another in passing but his Dad seemed to spend more time out than anything. He guessed he could partially thank him because he built a weird family life with Derek when the wolf realized Stiles was living off pancake mix and eggs, and was nearly running out of those as well.
It made the awkward situation of right now even more awkward, it had been a month since he’d spoken to his Dad. He hadn’t even realized it until now, and even before the month of no contact there contact was limited to his Dad and him fighting, arguing or nagging one another.
He flashed the man a nervous smile and then looked down at his hands distractedly, trying to focus on anything but the awkward tension in the air.
He heard, rather than saw his Dad taking a seat on the stone bench beside his wheelchair.
"Nice place," He commented as he looked around, small talk.
"Yeah," Stiles said awkwardly.
More awkward silence between them, which Stiles was really starting to hate, almost about to ask if he could just go back to his room. Then his Dad finally spoke up, more than a word, enough to get a conversation semigoing.
"Dr.Grey said that you could be discharged in a few days. But after that it is three weeks of sick leave for you, which means no School, Allison and Scott offered to bring your work for you" he said after a moment of silence.
That instantly animated the teen, like his Dad expected it would. Stiles eyes widened and the all-too-familiar look of protest returned to his expression.
"Three weeks? I mean I know most kids would kill for that but what am I supposed to do for that long?" he said. His voice may still be weak and hoarse, but there was no mistaking the indignation behind it.
"I don't know. Rest, maybe?"
"Dad come on I've been sleeping for fourteen days!"
"You were sick for fourteen days. Half the time you were delirious. Big difference."
"Urgh Dad come on! I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few days, I’m getting and better and better already” Stiles protested, the weakness in his voice making him pause longer between words.
He let out a short laugh. "Sorry Kiddo, even if you were ready to go tomorrow, I’m not going against Doctors orders or Ms.McCall’s”
Stiles sighed and cupped his chin with a hand. "What the hell am I going to do for three weeks?"
"Maybe you can catch up on all the school work you’ve been missing the past fourteen days” His Dad said with a laugh. Things were less tense, but that hint of everything revealed the past few days was still there. “So….Derek huh?”
Stiles groaned, turning to pick at the blanket in his lap. “Yeah Dad, Derek. It was my choice, and he didn’t make me do anything” Stiles was already assuming by the fact Derek was still visiting him constantly that his Dad and the wolf had already talked but Stiles still felt like defending him.
“I wasn’t saying that kiddo, It….was just unexpected really….” Stiles rolled his eyes again turning them to face the man sitting awkwardly on the bench.
“Because he’s a man?” His Dad even snapped to attention at that.
“Sty, no. I…come on…I don’t want to fight right now about this kiddo, more like because he seems like the kind to hit you for talking more than a few words at a time than someone you’d date….” His Dad said quickly and Stiles sighed turning his head down.
“Look, kiddo, I know…I haven’t been home the past few days….and I know that, I did some shitty father things the past few weeks….but seeing you sick, and all these people around you that I didn’t even know existed….it….”
“It’s okay Dad” He turned and nearly jerked back, the man was crouching by his wheel chair now shaking his head.
“It’s not okay, you’re my son. My only son and I failed as a father these past few weeks, and for that I’m sorry.” Warm fingers wrapped around his and Stiles found himself gripping back. “When you got sick, secrets started spilling out of the woodwork, and I just, I realized so much, if that Hale kid hadn’t stopped by when he did…and how much you’ve become to a group of kids without family.” Stiles tilted his head a bit, he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what. His Dad seemed to get it anyway.
“Silly huh? Took you getting sick for me to realize that I was losing at the whole father of the year thing, or as a father at all-“
“Dad no…I, it’s been mutual really…I mean I haven’t been the best son either” Stiles protested quickly through the tightening in his throat.
“I watched you get sick, like your mother, and all I could think was you’d be gone like her, and how much I would regret not getting to know the person you’ve become these past months, that my son would die and…” His Dad didn’t continue and Stiles pulled his hand, they weren’t really a contact family, occasionally they would hug, when Stiles would hear things over the police scanner, or his Dad would hear about a teen getting in an accident, something that scared them started the contact like it did now. Wrapping his arms tightly around his Dad, who fiercely returned the hug.
There weren’t words between them, but Stiles figured the next three weeks would be filled with enough talking to make up for that.
Only one more chapter to go!
I'm really excited and sad to be wrapping this all up.
Chapter 9: Lets do this one more time
The final chapter is here!
I wish it was longer but I couldn't drag it out any more than this.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
"Stiles? Yo Stilessssssss? You in there? Stiles!"
Stiles jerked in surprise when Scott called out his name. Carefully, he took his eyes away from the window and looked at his best friend. He hoped that his expression didn't convey the whole fact he was probably spaced out for the past hour. He really didn’t want to deal with all the concern that would come from that a long with the questions.
"Hey, you okay?" his friend asked, frowning. Scott needed to go back to not noticing him because the whole worrying about him constantly now was starting to get to him. Okay no that was mostly a lie but he could deal with the attention without the concern.
"Yeah, I'm okay, just wondering when the hell I'm getting out of here," he replied and then patted the duffel bag beside him on the bed. "I'm ready to go, like really really ready to blow this joint I don’t have an oversensitive noise and the smell is starting to get to me”
"Trust me man, I know. Your Dad and my Mom are getting a wheelchair to your room as we speak," he said with a big smile. "Time to bust this joint"
When he heard the word "wheelchair", Stiles groaned.
"Must we do it in a wheelchair?" he complained. Seriously he felt like it was almost degrading that he had to be pushed out of here in a wheel chair. He could walk just fine
A few minutes later Ms.McCall came in, and his Dad lifted him into the wheel chair despite his protest and personally he was surprised his Dad seemed to have no issues picking him up still and soon he was sitting in the wheelchair watching his Dad fussing over his duffel bag. Rocking the wheels back and forth a glare every once and awhile stopped him from attempting to see if he could do tricks in the thing.
Another stupid hospital regulation that he didn't need. That he had to be pushed out of the hospital in a wheelchair, seriously how many where there? He prayed he never had to go through this again because frankly it sucked.
"I can walk," he complained for perhaps the hundredth time. He knew it wasn’t going to change anything but it made him feel better when he complained about it.
"Quit whining, kiddo, not going to happen and you know it." His Dad said with a grin as he busied himself rearranging his things in his duffel bag. The room was empty except the bag of clothes he’d shoved into there, he was tired of the backless gowns and when given the okay he changed into sweat pants and shirts the minute he could. Clothes felt really nice.
"Hey where’s Derek anyway” Stiles said looking around the room. His Dad raised an eyebrow but shook his head. He was getting use to Stiles talking about the other casually now that there relationship was completely out. “I figured he’d be here on the day I bust the joint” He wheeled back and forth again and Scott jumped trying to avoid getting rolled on.
“He went to pull the car around since I only have the cruiser and that’s not really fit for more than two people” Stiles nodded it made sense, his Dad had been on leave since he’d gotten sick and considering how many hours he put in he got it without issue, he was set to return this week though Stiles was going to make sure he kept to that schedule. He made a face at his Dad after a moment though when it looked like he was completely rearranging the bag.
"Must you do that? I packed it nicely already," Stiles protested as he watched his Dad folding his shirt and carefully placing it in the bag. Seriously he spent all morning packing before taking a nap and talking with Scott about things he’d been missing at school.
"You call balling up your shirts up and tossing it in packing?" he commented back wryly.
"Yeah," Stiles replied defensively. “It creates more space for other things that may be needed in the packing progress”
"Sure thing kiddo, sure thing.” Though his Dad certainly didn’t sound sure as he zipped the bag up, he just didn’t understand how to properly pack.
"Bah humbug” Stiles grumbled shifting a bit in the chair but the smile on his face betrayed his words. He was enjoying the return of the slight banter between him and basically everyone, for a while there everyone walked around eggshells like he was going to break until he snapped and pointed out he was sick, not broken.
"By the way, you've got quite a welcoming committee outside," His Dad said as he sat down on his bed. Former bed, thank you very much.
Stiles perked up immediately. "Really?"
"Yeah, The whole pac-groups here." Scott corrected himself tossing himself into the conversation. “They wanted to be here on your farewell to this place” Which sounded wonderful, he enjoyed some of the attention to be honest, it was nice for once to not be ignored and he’d been having conversations with them the past few days about everything. He finally felt better physically as well as mentally.
"Really now?” He grinned and Scott smiled back at him.
It took a week of observation before they would release him. It would've been longer, but because Stiles drove the nurses, including Scott’s mother, and Dr.Grey up the wall with his constant protest that "I'm fine, and I don't need anyone checking up on me every five minutes", they relented and released him early. He wanted to cheer over that but his Dad was being a little more than over paranoid now that he wasn’t being watched in the hospital the full time.
“Ready to go kiddo?” Stiles looked up at his Dad with a nod, Scott took the duffle bag and followed behind them closely as they exited the room. It felt so great to be leaving right now he wished he could explain it to them.
When they got to the lobby, Stiles got a good look at the 'welcoming committee'. The whole pack really was there, holding the stuff that use to clutter the side of his room and then some. Lydia and Jackson were grinning, the pack of three behind them with Allison, who was currently holding the favorite item that Stiles received during his stay despite Derek’s want to remove it and possible burn it. A wolf, a stuffed black wolf, it was stupidly cute looking and not at all threatening. Stiles suspected someone painted the glassy eyes red, his Dad didn’t seem to get the joke but he loved it. He had it in his bed with him most of the time, but Derek kept moving it behind the other stuff, he was glad to see it didn’t mysteriously disappear in the packing up of his room.
“Danny sends his get wells, but he had to cover for us at lacrosse” Jackson said softly holding up one of the cards and bags he was holding making Stiles laugh with a nod. Danny had visited once this past week when Stiles was out of the clear, while he didn’t always hang out with the group he was friends of at least half of them. It was nice to see a different face, and he really liked Danny a lot to.
“Come on lets go get you home” His Dad said holding up his release papers, he felt like framing them right about now, they moved out of the hospital Stiles jeep was parked out front the passenger side open, Derek was leaning against the side and Stiles grinned. He really missed his car.
It didn’t take long to put all the gifts and various other stuff in the trunk with his bag, as well as despite his protest lifting him up into the jeep, Derek said he’d meet them at the house with the rest of the group and the Stilinski’s left in the jeep. Stiles leaned back resting his head on the rest behind him and smiling.
“You look awfully happy for someone who’s spent half a month in a hospital” His Dad pointed out, turning his head to smile at him before turning back to the road, Stiles could tell he was happy for him to be out just as much as he was. Considering his Dad thought he wasn’t going to ever leave when he first came in, and it was touch and go for a while so Stiles got it, it was good for both of them to be getting out.
“Nearly a month, and I finally get to go home” He fist pumped weakly still smiling. “No more hospital food, you think with the hospital bill prices they’d have better food” He whined a bit shifting and tugging on his hoodie.
“Not like you really ate it anyway, I saw the trash” Things between them weren’t perfect, and maybe that’s how it would be for a long time considering all the lies still between them, and yeah Stiles still felt guilty but he knew one day he’d be able to tell his Dad, when it wasn’t life threatening.
Right now though they’d reach a comfortable level, and they had talked a bit about Derek, his Dad seemed to really grow to like the other man over the days of Stiles being sick. Which Stiles saw as a major plus because it saved him from almost all of the awkward conversations he didn’t want to have right now with his Dad.
They pulled into the drive way and his Dad unloaded the car before helping him into the house, the couch was turned into a makeshift bed and despite wanting to protest just to protest Stiles was thankful, he wasn’t in the mood for stairs right now at all. The pack soon busted in and the house became filled with noise, everyone gathering around him or going into the kitchen to make food.
Stiles shifted to lie against Derek’s side, his legs stretched out on the couch, blinking tiredly he was looking out the window, his view in the hospital was of bushes and trees and now he was looking at the familiar lawn in front of them. Despite Derek’s normal avoidance of public displays of affection, he shifted to run his fingers over Stiles scalp looking down at him. He was still on a cocktail of medications and his body was still on the mend so Derek could understand the zoned out look he currently had on his face.
Lydia came in handing him a plate of food, she asked Derek something before walking away returning with two more plates handing one to the wolf before taking her seat, Jackson soon came out as well, taking place sitting on the floor in front of her. The pack slowly emerged from the kitchen as well, the trio taking their place in front of the couch that there alpha was on, Allison took the spot next to Lydia on the loveseat, Scott plopping down in front of her next to Jackson. His Dad finally came out turning off the light and sitting in his normal chair. The room was filled with talking and laughing, small conversations between the couples or as the group, his Dad was even included in some of them which brought some kind of weird warmth to his stomach that he knew wasn’t the food.
The room soon quieted down and emptied out as everyone said goodbye heading home, and Stiles was surprised to see he stayed awake as long as he did once they left and he finally acknowledged the exhaustion his was feeling. Derek was still there, talking softy with his Dad about something, but the faint rumbling of his chest was relaxing. He was almost asleep when his pillow shifted, another softer but colder one taking his place.
Stiles opened his eyes grinning at Derek who was pulling on his jacket, the older frowned a bit tilting his head. “I think we learned something important from this whole experience” If anything it confused Derek more. “That we should probably never have sex in the woods again”
Derek flat out laughed and Stiles could ignore his Dad’s face because he got the sourwolf to laugh, Derek left with a promise to be back tomorrow his Dad began to clean up and Stiles finally relaxed again.
It was so good to be home again.
Thank you everyone who followed, read and commented on this story!
I don't know what I'm going to write next but I have a few ideas floating around.
Thank you so much~