Safe (gift for geegollywiz13)
Title: Safe
Author: oldsmobile_98
Recipient: geegollywiz13
Pairings: Derek/Stiles (pre-slash/friendship)
Rating: T
Word Count: 2163
Warnings: Violence
Summary: It's been awhile, but maybe things are looking up for a little bit.
Stiles can’t remember the last time he felt safe.
Maybe it was the evening before he went to Scott’s house, when he was listening to the police scanner while cleaning the dishes from supper. After that everything was one thing after another: Scott telling him about nightmares and chasing him through the locker room; digging up a dead body while hoping the psycho killer would not return; going after Scott into the locker room and hoping he was okay. Then there was the bullet incident and Derek threatening him, or being locked in the school with the Alpha chasing them. There was also Peter’s attack on Lydia, and his creepy offer.
Even later once Peter was dead and everything should have been okay, it wasn't. Lydia went missing, Isaac’s dad died, Derek needed their help (he really only needed Scott’s help, but Stiles bullied his way into the situation) and on a few occasions he was practically waiting for Isaac to kill him. Then Erica left him in the dumpster, the Kanima was at the garage, Erica dragged him to the pool, Derek’s interrogation happened as well as the Kanima’s arrival, nearly drowning, fearing for Lydia, being attacked by Isaac, spending a day in a van with an amnesiac Jackson/killer, the detention attack, the rave, Lydia’s party, the sheriff’s office, and Gerard.
Honestly, the last few months have been hell and Stiles cannot remember the last time he felt safe. He helped his friends as much as he could, but Scott did not need his help and Lydia wanted nothing to do with him now that she had Jackson again. The rest of the pack/not pack just forgot him again, as if he had not been interacting with them for the last two months (or four, in Derek’s case). So far the only good thing going on was that Peter had not come near him yet.
He was not surprised when the streak of bad things continued during the summer months. At first he tried Scott, then he tried calling Derek, but the guy was not answering his phone which was just a trend for Stiles. Honestly, why did he even bother replacing his phone when no one answered him when he was in danger?
“Don’t worry, Stiles,” he smiled with all of his fangs showing, “you’re just a warning.”
“And you couldn’t just send a fruit basket?” He gasped around the clawed hand gripping his neck.
“If that’s your last request,” He tightened his grip, “I can send you in a basket.”
“Add some apples so I can eat something,” he said, “they’re terrible about receiving packages.” His claws dug into Stiles’ side, forcing his legs to buckle and the hand around his throat to hold him up. He wanted to cry out, but could not swallow any air to make a noise. Black dots started creeping into his vision. At some point he started clawing at the hand hard enough to break skin, but his grip just got tighter, making Stiles weaker.
Stiles knew his lips must be turning a faint blue and he must be mostly making soft coughs with what little air he was in taking. He squeezed his eyes close, refusing to let him be the last thing he sees. The world seemed to fuzz out, making everything hard to hear or even feel. It was a little peaceful.
Suddenly the hand was gone and Stiles was curled up on his side, coughing harshly onto the ground as someone fought off the alpha. His last thought was hoping ten minutes had not passed: he did not want brain damage.
When he woke up, Stiles was pretty sure he was in the hospital; it smelled and sounded like a hospital, anyway. He could hear the sound of his dad and Scott quietly talking in the same room as him, they were talking about...Derek? He made a soft, questioning noise; he wanted to know why Derek was coming up in a conversation at HIS bedside.
“Stiles?” Scott asked.
“Ugh” He said back.
“Let me get Melissa.” His dad said, after touching his hand. Stiles watched him leave before turning to Scott and waving at where they had been standing.
“..rek?” He managed to grunt. Scott blinked for a few seconds before the sound started to make sense.
“Derek?” Stiles nodded quickly, sending himself into a coughing fit. His throat was scratchy.
“What about Derek?” He gestured again to the spot. “What we were talking about? Don’t you remember?” He shook his head. “Derek was the one to find you when…” Scott gestured at his neck.
“Rig…azy…pha…” Stiles managed to speak around his coughing. Scott handed him a glass filled with ice chips. “Wha….”
“Stop talking.” Melissa reprimanded him when she entered the room. She ignored Stiles' attempt at a pleading look and began checking the machine. Scott nudged his hand.
“You’re lucky he found you. Your neck is completely bruised. You can literally see a handprint on your neck.” Stiles tried to say something, but Ms. McCall wacked him on the head as soon as he opened his mouth. Scott said, “I’m not even sure how he found you. The trail vanished where the woods started. Isaac and I spent an hour alone trying to find it again. Next thing I knew, mom called me saying Derek brought you into the hospital.”
He made a series of gestures hoping Scott understood that he was asking how Derek found him. “Dude, we have no idea and he hasn’t stopped by either. Isaac tried asking him, but you know…” he waved vaguely. “He never answers our questions.” Stiles nodded.
“There’s something else as well.” Melissa said, “Your dad knows.”
“WHA...!” He erupted into a coughing fit and curled over with a hand pressed to his chest trying to breathe through it. Scott patted his back soothingly.
“I think Derek told him, because he has been asking questions since the doctors said you’d be okay.” Stiles accepted some more ice chips while Scott explained. “He has been mainly asking about why they would attack you.” Melissa shoved a notepad into his lap.
“Use this, no talking.”
“Thanks mom,” Scott smiled as she left the room and Stiles scribbled a thank you on the notepad. She did not spare a glance at it while leaving.
'Your mom hates me.'
“I’m pretty sure she still bitter over last Thanksgiving.”
‘One shouldn’t leave a turkey unguarded.’
“Stiles, you put your head inside it.” He just shrugged. “And no, I don’t know for sure what your dad knows. You’ll have to ask him.” A knock on the door signaled Melissa’s return with the doctor and Stiles' dad.
“Who gave you a notepad?” He teased weakly, hands shaking a little as he wrapped Stiles up in a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay, kid.” Stiles squeezed back tightly. “And we’re going to have a talk about getting yourself into trouble, especially with werewolves.” He mumbled that the last words before stepping back to the let the doctor get close.
“Alright Mr. Stilinski, let’s see how much damage you managed to do to yourself this time.”
~*~
Stiles decided the doctor did not have to do half of what he did, and Ms. McCall bribed him into the coughing test. He dumped another mouthful of ice chips into his mouth and wished his dad or Scott could have stayed after visiting hours. Hospitals were unnerving with the nurses' quiet footsteps and the constant beeping of machines. He would have at least turned off the machines, but they threatened to withhold him curly fries if he did anything to annoy the nurses.
He did manage to find Nanny re-runs to watch.
“What in the world are you watching?” Derek complained from where he was standing in the doorway.
“Du….” He startled him into coughing. A fresh cup of ice chips was shoved into his hand as Derek rested his hand right against Stiles’ chest. He opened his eyes just in time to watch the slithering black lines crawl up his arm. Shoving the hand away, Stiles scrambled for his notepad gesturing wildly at his chest and Derek.
“It’s nothing important.” He said ignoring the incredulous look on Stiles' face. Derek pulled the lounge chair next to the bed so he could see what Stiles was writing, the TV, doorway, and window from one spot. Stiles shoved his notepad in front of his face.
‘What did you tell my dad? Why? How did you find me? What happened to the Alpha? How did you get in here? Why are you here? What’s going on with your hand?’
“I didn’t tell your dad. I could hear you. He escaped. I walked and you’re still a target. None of your business.” Derek shoved the notepad back. “Now let me watch this show.”
‘You’re just watching it for Niles.’ Stiles wrote.
“He does make the drama between Sheffield and Fran bearable.”
‘Wouldn’t have pegged you as a Nanny fan.’
“It's the only thing on, late at night.” Derek reclined the chair a little, and Stiles left his notepad resting beside him within an arm's reach. It took three episodes before he fell asleep and let the pen drop to the floor. Sighing, Derek picked it up and grabbed the notepad, turning to an empty page. He scribbled for a few minutes before putting it back under Stiles' hand. Leaving the TV on, Derek stood in front of the window, watching the two alphas standing across the street, staring at the hospital.
None of the three werewolves moved until sunrise, and then the two outside vanished after a look up into his room. Derek stayed until Stiles started waking up and the nurses had changed shifts. He licked his hand and rubbed the saliva against the back of Stiles’ neck; short of biting him it was the best protection Derek could offer until the Alpha pack was taken care of. He did greet the sheriff as he walked down the hall and he got a nod in return.
Inside his room, Stiles was already reading the page he had left for him.
‘Your dad already knew when he got to the hospital, though he was drilling me for more information. You’re not as sneaky as you like to think. The alpha had dragged you within a few miles of the house; you’re lucky I was home. He did escape, but he is not a threat for the moment. However, don’t go anywhere alone. Try to stay within the sight of people at all times.’ Stiles made a face at that before continuing reading.
‘I know most of the nurses here; they let me stay after visiting hours. Again, you are not to be ALONE. For some reason the alphas want you dead and if you know why, you need to tell us.’ Stiles flipped the page. ‘I don’t know what happened with my hand. It has never done that before.’
“Ready to go, kiddo?” Stiles jerked his head up and grinned too brightly at his dad. “I don’t want to know. If you and Hale want to share love notes, it’s none of my business.” He whined at him while shaking his head violently and reaching for the pen. “Let it go.” He said plucking the pen from his hand. “We need to get you home and you get to help me set up ash around the house. Oh, yes,” He grinned at Stiles’ surprised expression, “I already got supplies from Deaton and we’re still having that talk.”
His dad made sure he was comfortable in the wheel chair before speaking again. “I also found out how to make it so your boyfriend and Scott can still come over.” Stiles flailed in annoyance. He scribbled on the notepad violently.
‘He’s not my boyfriend.’
“Whatever you say.” He let the nurse push the wheelchair. “Though he did stay the night and brought you in.” He laughed at Stiles affronted face. “Kid, he carried you bridal style. I already have a copy of the security tapes.”
‘You’re awfully calm about all of this.’ Stiles tried to change the subject.
“Had a nice long chat with various people.” He squeezed his shoulders. “You’ll be surprised how not shocking most of the information was and apparently people don’t think I can figure it out myself.” He gave him a pointed look.
‘Sorry.’ Stiles handed over the sheet.
“Don’t worry.” He smiled, “we’ll have a nice, long talk about everything. I even invited Derek and Scott over.” Stiles just whined and hunched down in the wheelchair. Sheriff Stilinski pretended not to see the Camaro parked to the side until Stiles was safely put into the cruiser. He smiled when the car drove off; Hale was not a bad kid. He could use some work on his subtlety though.
Author: oldsmobile_98
Recipient: geegollywiz13
Pairings: Derek/Stiles (pre-slash/friendship)
Rating: T
Word Count: 2163
Warnings: Violence
Summary: It's been awhile, but maybe things are looking up for a little bit.
Stiles can’t remember the last time he felt safe.
Maybe it was the evening before he went to Scott’s house, when he was listening to the police scanner while cleaning the dishes from supper. After that everything was one thing after another: Scott telling him about nightmares and chasing him through the locker room; digging up a dead body while hoping the psycho killer would not return; going after Scott into the locker room and hoping he was okay. Then there was the bullet incident and Derek threatening him, or being locked in the school with the Alpha chasing them. There was also Peter’s attack on Lydia, and his creepy offer.
Even later once Peter was dead and everything should have been okay, it wasn't. Lydia went missing, Isaac’s dad died, Derek needed their help (he really only needed Scott’s help, but Stiles bullied his way into the situation) and on a few occasions he was practically waiting for Isaac to kill him. Then Erica left him in the dumpster, the Kanima was at the garage, Erica dragged him to the pool, Derek’s interrogation happened as well as the Kanima’s arrival, nearly drowning, fearing for Lydia, being attacked by Isaac, spending a day in a van with an amnesiac Jackson/killer, the detention attack, the rave, Lydia’s party, the sheriff’s office, and Gerard.
Honestly, the last few months have been hell and Stiles cannot remember the last time he felt safe. He helped his friends as much as he could, but Scott did not need his help and Lydia wanted nothing to do with him now that she had Jackson again. The rest of the pack/not pack just forgot him again, as if he had not been interacting with them for the last two months (or four, in Derek’s case). So far the only good thing going on was that Peter had not come near him yet.
He was not surprised when the streak of bad things continued during the summer months. At first he tried Scott, then he tried calling Derek, but the guy was not answering his phone which was just a trend for Stiles. Honestly, why did he even bother replacing his phone when no one answered him when he was in danger?
“Don’t worry, Stiles,” he smiled with all of his fangs showing, “you’re just a warning.”
“And you couldn’t just send a fruit basket?” He gasped around the clawed hand gripping his neck.
“If that’s your last request,” He tightened his grip, “I can send you in a basket.”
“Add some apples so I can eat something,” he said, “they’re terrible about receiving packages.” His claws dug into Stiles’ side, forcing his legs to buckle and the hand around his throat to hold him up. He wanted to cry out, but could not swallow any air to make a noise. Black dots started creeping into his vision. At some point he started clawing at the hand hard enough to break skin, but his grip just got tighter, making Stiles weaker.
Stiles knew his lips must be turning a faint blue and he must be mostly making soft coughs with what little air he was in taking. He squeezed his eyes close, refusing to let him be the last thing he sees. The world seemed to fuzz out, making everything hard to hear or even feel. It was a little peaceful.
Suddenly the hand was gone and Stiles was curled up on his side, coughing harshly onto the ground as someone fought off the alpha. His last thought was hoping ten minutes had not passed: he did not want brain damage.
When he woke up, Stiles was pretty sure he was in the hospital; it smelled and sounded like a hospital, anyway. He could hear the sound of his dad and Scott quietly talking in the same room as him, they were talking about...Derek? He made a soft, questioning noise; he wanted to know why Derek was coming up in a conversation at HIS bedside.
“Stiles?” Scott asked.
“Ugh” He said back.
“Let me get Melissa.” His dad said, after touching his hand. Stiles watched him leave before turning to Scott and waving at where they had been standing.
“..rek?” He managed to grunt. Scott blinked for a few seconds before the sound started to make sense.
“Derek?” Stiles nodded quickly, sending himself into a coughing fit. His throat was scratchy.
“What about Derek?” He gestured again to the spot. “What we were talking about? Don’t you remember?” He shook his head. “Derek was the one to find you when…” Scott gestured at his neck.
“Rig…azy…pha…” Stiles managed to speak around his coughing. Scott handed him a glass filled with ice chips. “Wha….”
“Stop talking.” Melissa reprimanded him when she entered the room. She ignored Stiles' attempt at a pleading look and began checking the machine. Scott nudged his hand.
“You’re lucky he found you. Your neck is completely bruised. You can literally see a handprint on your neck.” Stiles tried to say something, but Ms. McCall wacked him on the head as soon as he opened his mouth. Scott said, “I’m not even sure how he found you. The trail vanished where the woods started. Isaac and I spent an hour alone trying to find it again. Next thing I knew, mom called me saying Derek brought you into the hospital.”
He made a series of gestures hoping Scott understood that he was asking how Derek found him. “Dude, we have no idea and he hasn’t stopped by either. Isaac tried asking him, but you know…” he waved vaguely. “He never answers our questions.” Stiles nodded.
“There’s something else as well.” Melissa said, “Your dad knows.”
“WHA...!” He erupted into a coughing fit and curled over with a hand pressed to his chest trying to breathe through it. Scott patted his back soothingly.
“I think Derek told him, because he has been asking questions since the doctors said you’d be okay.” Stiles accepted some more ice chips while Scott explained. “He has been mainly asking about why they would attack you.” Melissa shoved a notepad into his lap.
“Use this, no talking.”
“Thanks mom,” Scott smiled as she left the room and Stiles scribbled a thank you on the notepad. She did not spare a glance at it while leaving.
'Your mom hates me.'
“I’m pretty sure she still bitter over last Thanksgiving.”
‘One shouldn’t leave a turkey unguarded.’
“Stiles, you put your head inside it.” He just shrugged. “And no, I don’t know for sure what your dad knows. You’ll have to ask him.” A knock on the door signaled Melissa’s return with the doctor and Stiles' dad.
“Who gave you a notepad?” He teased weakly, hands shaking a little as he wrapped Stiles up in a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay, kid.” Stiles squeezed back tightly. “And we’re going to have a talk about getting yourself into trouble, especially with werewolves.” He mumbled that the last words before stepping back to the let the doctor get close.
“Alright Mr. Stilinski, let’s see how much damage you managed to do to yourself this time.”
~*~
Stiles decided the doctor did not have to do half of what he did, and Ms. McCall bribed him into the coughing test. He dumped another mouthful of ice chips into his mouth and wished his dad or Scott could have stayed after visiting hours. Hospitals were unnerving with the nurses' quiet footsteps and the constant beeping of machines. He would have at least turned off the machines, but they threatened to withhold him curly fries if he did anything to annoy the nurses.
He did manage to find Nanny re-runs to watch.
“What in the world are you watching?” Derek complained from where he was standing in the doorway.
“Du….” He startled him into coughing. A fresh cup of ice chips was shoved into his hand as Derek rested his hand right against Stiles’ chest. He opened his eyes just in time to watch the slithering black lines crawl up his arm. Shoving the hand away, Stiles scrambled for his notepad gesturing wildly at his chest and Derek.
“It’s nothing important.” He said ignoring the incredulous look on Stiles' face. Derek pulled the lounge chair next to the bed so he could see what Stiles was writing, the TV, doorway, and window from one spot. Stiles shoved his notepad in front of his face.
‘What did you tell my dad? Why? How did you find me? What happened to the Alpha? How did you get in here? Why are you here? What’s going on with your hand?’
“I didn’t tell your dad. I could hear you. He escaped. I walked and you’re still a target. None of your business.” Derek shoved the notepad back. “Now let me watch this show.”
‘You’re just watching it for Niles.’ Stiles wrote.
“He does make the drama between Sheffield and Fran bearable.”
‘Wouldn’t have pegged you as a Nanny fan.’
“It's the only thing on, late at night.” Derek reclined the chair a little, and Stiles left his notepad resting beside him within an arm's reach. It took three episodes before he fell asleep and let the pen drop to the floor. Sighing, Derek picked it up and grabbed the notepad, turning to an empty page. He scribbled for a few minutes before putting it back under Stiles' hand. Leaving the TV on, Derek stood in front of the window, watching the two alphas standing across the street, staring at the hospital.
None of the three werewolves moved until sunrise, and then the two outside vanished after a look up into his room. Derek stayed until Stiles started waking up and the nurses had changed shifts. He licked his hand and rubbed the saliva against the back of Stiles’ neck; short of biting him it was the best protection Derek could offer until the Alpha pack was taken care of. He did greet the sheriff as he walked down the hall and he got a nod in return.
Inside his room, Stiles was already reading the page he had left for him.
‘Your dad already knew when he got to the hospital, though he was drilling me for more information. You’re not as sneaky as you like to think. The alpha had dragged you within a few miles of the house; you’re lucky I was home. He did escape, but he is not a threat for the moment. However, don’t go anywhere alone. Try to stay within the sight of people at all times.’ Stiles made a face at that before continuing reading.
‘I know most of the nurses here; they let me stay after visiting hours. Again, you are not to be ALONE. For some reason the alphas want you dead and if you know why, you need to tell us.’ Stiles flipped the page. ‘I don’t know what happened with my hand. It has never done that before.’
“Ready to go, kiddo?” Stiles jerked his head up and grinned too brightly at his dad. “I don’t want to know. If you and Hale want to share love notes, it’s none of my business.” He whined at him while shaking his head violently and reaching for the pen. “Let it go.” He said plucking the pen from his hand. “We need to get you home and you get to help me set up ash around the house. Oh, yes,” He grinned at Stiles’ surprised expression, “I already got supplies from Deaton and we’re still having that talk.”
His dad made sure he was comfortable in the wheel chair before speaking again. “I also found out how to make it so your boyfriend and Scott can still come over.” Stiles flailed in annoyance. He scribbled on the notepad violently.
‘He’s not my boyfriend.’
“Whatever you say.” He let the nurse push the wheelchair. “Though he did stay the night and brought you in.” He laughed at Stiles affronted face. “Kid, he carried you bridal style. I already have a copy of the security tapes.”
‘You’re awfully calm about all of this.’ Stiles tried to change the subject.
“Had a nice long chat with various people.” He squeezed his shoulders. “You’ll be surprised how not shocking most of the information was and apparently people don’t think I can figure it out myself.” He gave him a pointed look.
‘Sorry.’ Stiles handed over the sheet.
“Don’t worry.” He smiled, “we’ll have a nice, long talk about everything. I even invited Derek and Scott over.” Stiles just whined and hunched down in the wheelchair. Sheriff Stilinski pretended not to see the Camaro parked to the side until Stiles was safely put into the cruiser. He smiled when the car drove off; Hale was not a bad kid. He could use some work on his subtlety though.