Caroline froze halfway across her lawn at the sound of her name. Not because someone was calling her, but because of who was calling her, a voice she hadn’t heard in almost a year and a half. Five hundred and seven days, if you were keeping track, not that she was. Okay, maybe she was. Why wouldn’t she? After all it was how long it had been since Caroline had packed up her car and headed off to college, leaving behind everything she had ever known. The town she’d grown up in, her friends, her pack, her parents, and...him. Now she was back due to her father’s orders and had hoped to avoid seeing him for as long as possible, which of course meant that she would run into him within hours of her being back in town.
Cursing her luck, Caroline turned around, a small smile on her face. “Klaus, hi.”
“Hello love.” Klaus replied.
“Um, how are you? You look good,” she commented, cringing as she did. Had she really just said that? More often than not, she said the first thing on her mind before she could stop herself and this was definitely one of those circumstances. Klaus did look good though, actually good was an understatement. She wasn’t sure how it was possible but his shoulders seemed wider, his curls a bit longer, and he seemed to have gotten more handsome since she’d been gone.
All of which she wanted to use as an excuse for the sudden warmth Caroline felt throughout her body but she knew she’d be lying to herself. Simply being near him again was the cause of that, her wolf recognizing him instantly after being apart for so long and she could feel her trying to push Caroline to get closer but she fought against it.
She watched as one of Klaus’ eyebrows arched in disbelief at her question. “‘You left without a goodbye & have refused to talk to me for over a year and that’s the first thing you say?”
“I was trying to be polite,” Caroline replied, laughing nervously. “I see that you’re still as blunt as always.”
“When have either one of us ever not been?” Klaus retorted.
“With the way Daddy has been talking you up, I thought you might have picked up a few bits of tact under his tutelage.” She declared. While she hadn’t spoken to Klaus since she left, he had been the subject of several conversations between herself and her father, mostly with him singing Klaus’ praises.
“Well Bill might be a good Alpha, but he isn’t a miracle worker.”
Caroline couldn’t help but let out an unladylike snort at the truth behind his statement. Even someone like her father would be unable to change Klaus if Klaus didn’t want to be changed. Though if he was going to take over as Alpha for her father some day, like he planned, he would need some diplomacy. Of course by thinking of Klaus learning from her father reminded Caroline exactly why he was in that position (Well without having challenged her father) and suddenly she became tense again.
“Though he did manage to finally get you to return home so perhaps I am underestimating him.”
She heard Klaus add, his voice teasing with a hint of spite mixed in, causing her nervousness to be replaced by irritation. However before she could give any kind of comeback, they were interrupted when a car stopped at the end of the drive, the driver being one of the last people Caroline wanted to see.
“Everyone said you were back, but to be honest, I didn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes.” Greta stated as she got out of the car and made her way towards the two of them. “The prodigal princess returns.”
“Yes, just for a visit.” Caroline grumbled. She hated when people called her that, and Greta knew it. She was the one who had started it after all when they were in grade school. She knew she couldn’t pick on the daughter of the Alpha, but she could still torment her in some way.
“I know your parents missed you, and some of the rest of the pack too. Though I don’t know about everyone.” Greta commented, a sly smile appearing on her face as she brought her hand up to grasp Klaus’ arm.
At the sight of the other she-wolf touching Klaus in such a familiar way, Caroline’s wolf bristled and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from growling in challenge. ‘Mine,’ She thought before she shoved the thought away and regained control. But not before Greta noticed her reaction, her smile expanding to a full fledge grin.
“We should be going, only a few hours before nightfall,” Klaus said suddenly, breaking up the face-off between the women.
“Right, we wouldn’t want to be late for tonight’s hunt. What with it being to a welcome home for Caroline and all.” Greta stated as she let Klaus lead her back to her car, opening the driver door for her to slid in before making his way back to the passenger side, glancing at Caroline as he did.
“Until tonight sweetheart.”
#######
As she ran on all fours through the woods, Caroline felt a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in months. She had been able to change and go for runs while at school but it paled in comparison to how it felt to run through the woods that she had grown up in.
Her father had arranged a full moon hunt to mark her homecoming and while she had hated the attention, she was enjoying herself greatly. Since turning, she had been running almost the whole time so when she came upon a stream, she decided to take a break for a drink, refreshing herself.
All around her, Caroline could hear her packmates moving through the woods, tracking various animals or like Caroline herself, simply relishing the event. She had been reunited with several friends, both in human and wolf form, but so far had only seen Klaus from a far, just after the pack had met up.
As if the mere thought of him summoned him, Klaus appeared from the brush just behind her, and she was wondered if he hadn’t been tracking her. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had been, considering he didn’t look a bit startled to see her there. Instead he moved towards her, his head slightly bowed as he watched her, his eyes the same blue color in wolf form as they were in human, waiting to see if she would bolt at his attention. She knew she should but couldn’t make herself do it. Not even when he came so close that their coats brushed against each other or she felt his nose bump her muzzle.
Wolves as a whole were a touchy bunch, and it felt completely natural to her, especially considering who it was. Caroline couldn’t deny it, even to herself that she had missed him, which was why she afforded herself a moment of weakness to reciprocate his affections. His tawny coat held the familiar smell that was uniquely Klaus, woodsy, wild, with a bit of something that just made her feel safe. She also noticed that the only smell she could pick up was his, and not of any other wolf.
It wasn’t until she felt him put one of his paws up on top of her neck that she realized what he was really doing. Klaus wasn’t just trying to show her attention or show that he might have missed her too, he was marking her; making sure that she was covered in his scent so that anyone who came near her, especially males, would know that she belonged to him. Well that was what he thought.
Turning her head quickly, Caroline lashed out, catching Klaus’ leg between her teeth. She didn’t bite hard enough to do permanent damage, but hard enough to let him know she wasn’t happy, and just in case he didn’t get the idea, she followed it with a deep growl. Klaus yelped slightly at the attack, and pulled back though he didn’t withdraw completely, letting her know that t he understood but that she didn’t scare him off. No longer wanting to be near him, Caroline took off, heading back towards her home. Unfortunately Klaus decided to follow her and stayed on her tail, literally, the whole way.
They both turned quickly, Caroline using her anger to push her body to its limits in an attempt to speed up the process but Klaus still managed to best her, standing tall in front of her as she came back to herself. But if he thought that gave him the upper hand, he was mistaken for the second time that night.
“What the hell do you think you were doing?” Caroline yelled as she glared at him. “How dare you mark me like I am yours!”
“Because you are,,” Klaus snapped back. “As much as you might want to ignore that little fact, no matter how far away you run, it doesn’t change that you are mine Caroline.”
Before Caroline could argue back, Klaus was in front of her, so close that she could feel the heat of his body, as well as his breath on her face while he cupped her cheek. “Just as I am yours and have been since the first day we met. We are mates.”
At his declaration and his touch, Caroline couldn’t help but close her eyes at the sensations that overtook her. The bond between them felt just as intense as it had before she left, more so possibly due to how long they had been apart and all she wanted to do was wrap herself into it, into him. Only instead of giving in, she pulled back however before she could turn tail and run, Klaus grabbed her and stopped her escape. “I’m not making it that easy on you love, I’m not letting you run away from me again. Not until you talk to me.”
Caroline could see by the look in his eyes how serious he was, his dominance flowing off him in waves, and knew she was stuck. Suddenly very aware of how naked both of them were, and not wanting to have this conversation in that state, she nodded as she said. “Fine, but put some clothes on first. I can’t talk to you seriously like this.”
A cheeky smile twitched on his full lips at her words. “What’s the matter, love? Is my nakedness too much of a distraction for you?”
“As if that were true.” Caroline said as she grabbed the first pair of sweats that she thought might remotely fit him and threw them at him while she looked for something for herself to wear.
“Wouldn’t be the first time, or the second or third…” He trailed off as he pulled the pants on over his long legs just as Caroline pulled a large t-shirt over her head.
“So what do you want to talk about?” Caroline demanded, making sure to keep a little bit of distance between them while also trying to ignore how the sweatpants sat low on his hips.
“I want to talk about you,” Klaus explained. “And why you took off without a word to me, waiting until I was out of town for your father instead of talking to me face to face. I never knew you to be a coward Caroline.”
Caroline flinched at the words, at the harsh statement, though she didn’t argue because they were true. How she had left him had been very cowardly. Only because she knew if she had she probably wouldn’t have left. But it was something she had felt she had to do even it it was one of the hardest things, if not thee hardest thing she had done in her young life.
Since she had been a young girl, Caroline had felt like she was two people in one; the wolf side and the human side. She embraced her wolf, but also wanted to have a normal teenage girl’s life and she did everything she could to have it. But of course like everything else in her life, Caroline had had to go above and beyond. Instead of simply being a good student, a cheerleader, or a member of the dance committee, no she was one of the top students of her class, cheer team captain and head of almost every social committee there was at school And whereas others in the pack who had wanted to go to college went to nearby Whitmore, she had chosen one on the border of her father’s territory instead. She wanted to be her own person and figure out who she was before she became completely trapped by her birthright as the next Alpha female.
Everything she had planned had gone perfectly, until the autumn of her senior year. That was when Klaus came to town on the back of his motorcycle. He had been visiting various packs around the Eastern part of the country, trying to learn information about his biological father who he had been told was from the area and his last lead had led him to Mystic Falls. A lead that panned out when he discovered that his father had grown up there and had been friends with the Alpha, which was how he met Caroline. She had been told how it felt when a wolf met their mate, but descriptions didn’t do it justice. It was like touching a live wire, while at the same time coming out of a fog the first time she looked into his eyes.
Looking into those same eyes now, she answered him. “Because I knew if I saw you, you’d try to talk me out of it...and I knew that you would probably succeed. And I needed to get out of this town.”
“And away from me.” Klaus added.
“Yes,” Caroline admitted. “I was scared.”
“What are you so afraid of?”
“You.” She answered, her voice louder than it needed to me. “I’m afraid of you.”
“How could you be afraid of me? I would do anything to keep you safe.” Klaus declared.
“I never planned to meet the man who was my forever when I was 17!” Caroline exclaimed, stunning him at her admission. “And then there you were and things got so intense between us so fast, my head was spinning. And I saw how the pack looked at us and I knew what they were thinking. With my meeting you, the security of the pack’s leadership was ensured. It just became too much.”
“So being away at school, away from your pack is better?”
“It’s...simpler.” She replied. “I’m just like every other student and I don’t have so much on my shoulders, worrying what people will think if I make the wrong decision.”
“But is it better?” He repeated as he reached up to tuck a wild curl behind her ear, invading her space again but she did not stop him. “Are you happy?”
Caroline found that she couldn’t answer him, because she didn’t know the answer. Was she happy? She enjoyed school, the challenge it gave her and the opportunity to meet new people, try new things but she still felt like a part of her was missing. A part of her that she suddenly felt restored.
“If you have to think about it Caroline, I think that gives you your answer.” Klaus argued.
“Fine, yes, school isn’t perfect either. I don’t have the feeling of being smothered but it’s also a bit lonely.” She admitted. “I feel like I was missing...something.”
Klaus didn’t need her to explain what that something was, because it was the same way he had felt since she left. “Answer me something else, did it ever cross your mind to ask me if maybe I would want to go with you?”
“Yeah, as if that was a possibility.” Caroline scoffed in disbelief, but then she saw the seriousness on his face, her skepticism died. He really would have gone with her if she’d had asked. That bit of knowledge changed everything for her.
But was it possible? The pack would be upset, but her father would settle them down. Though he was middle age, he was still healthy and a strong leader, there was still time before he would be handing over control. It was why her father had allowed her to go away to school in the first place. And it wasn’t like Klaus couldn’t come back for periods of time when needed.
As for what it meant for the two of them, being away from the eyes and expectations of the pack would make a world of difference. That intensity and passion that had scared her would still be there, it always would be but it would give them the chance to form a real relationship on their own terms, take the time to get to know each other again.
“Klaus.” She sighed as she met his gaze again, but before she could say more, he closed the distance between them and kissed her. It was the opposite of what she expected, not rough and passionate but soft and gentle, loving. As if was trying to show her how he still felt and it sadly ended quicker than she wanted it to, causing her to whimper as he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers.
“The pack has become a part of me but they are not my home, that’s you.” He whispered, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “All you have to do is say the words Caroline.”
Merry Christmas, Chelsey! Wish you all the best in the New Year. There's two related drabbles for you. The first one was a little angsty and not enough klaroline so I had to give you a part two. The soundtrack which inspired these drabbles are: Nothing in this world will ever break my heart again by Hayden Panettiere and When You Open Your Eyes by Sam Palladio and Clare Bowen. Hope you like them!
-
part one:
nothing in this world (will ever break my heart again)
She thought losing her father was hard.
She thought the pain she felt from almost dying twice would hurt more than this.
She thought the haunting memories of being raped were worse than anything.
She thought that losing not only two loves but three would tear her apart.
She thought being denied over and over by a Salvatore was devastating.
She thought finding the man she had feelings for had a child was heartbreaking.
She thought many things over the years but she never thought of her mother dying.
She never thought she would watch her die.
She never thought that she would be so young when she lost her mother.
She never thought this would be happening to her. Losing both parents before the age of twenty and sentenced to an eternity alone.
She never imagined that life for her, at least not until it was actually happening.
The thought of her mother dying was inconceivable, especially when there should have been years to prepare. Yet there she was, sitting at her mother’s bedside. She looked so pale, dark circles under her eyes and wrinkled skin.
She wished more than anything to feed her blood, to heal her from the sickness but the older woman was stubborn. Liz Forbes was a fighter and she was going down as one, and as much as it hurt Caroline, she knew she had to obey orders.
So Caroline sat for days by her mother’s bedside, hand softly intertwined with the fraying one of her mother’s. She sat by, watching her chest slowly rise and fall and listening to the beating of her heart.
She tried to prepare herself for when those machines finally stopped beeping and there was no life left in her mother’s blue eyes. She tried to occupy and distract, ensuring to fill her mother up on anything and everything.
She admitted all her deepest desires, from escaping Mystic Falls and seeing the world to her feelings for the original hybrid. Her mother never questioned her, but instead promised her into taking action after her death.
Her condition worsened within days of being admitting into the hospital and Caroline knew that she didn’t have much time left. Her mother's heart was struggling to beat and her lungs failing to breathe on their own. She knew the day was closing in on them but refused to acknowledge it, greedy for more time.
Their little world which had been wrapped up tight with ignorance came to a crashing halt when Liz began struggling for a breath. Caroline clung to her mother, urging her to breathe slowly and reassuring her that they were going to make it through this.
Tears softly fell from her eyes, Liz knew the truth and needed her daughter to understand. “Caroline.” She wheezed, her hands reaching out.
“Mom,” Caroline cried. “You just need to breathe. In and out. Like this.”
With deep breaths she demonstrated the actions that should have come naturally to Liz but it felt like a weight pressing down on her chest.
“I love you,” Liz whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as she focused on a steady breath. It was becoming too hard to stay awake.
“No, mom, you just need to breathe.”
A doctor stopped by, adjusting the monitors and medicine intake. Liz looked up to the older man. “I’m ready to go.”
With a slight nod there were more adjustments made and the doctor turned to the exit. Caroline couldn’t stop staring at her mother, shaking her head. “You can’t give up. Mommy, I need you. I can heal you from this.”
Liz squeezed Caroline’s hand. “It’s my time. I love you but you need to let me go.”
“No,” Caroline whimpered.
“Go to Paris, or London, or Rome. Just go out and explore then go to New Orleans.”
“Mommy-”
“I love you, Caroline.” And with a shuddering breath, Liz slipped into a deep sleep, only it was followed by the ringing of the machines attached to her heart.
Caroline reached forward, grabbing onto her mother’s shoulders and shook. “No, mom, you need to wake up!”
Her heart races but shatters once she feels that hand on her shoulder and whisper in her ear. “She’s gone.”
The monitors are silenced and so is Caroline. She falls forward, burrowing her head in her mother’s neck, the familiar scent filling her senses. She doesn’t want to believe that she’s dead, the idea of her mother dead is unbearable.
She’s not sure how long it takes but somehow she’s pried away from the lifeless body of her mother and she’s wrapped up in the arms of her friends. It’s not the same as the arms of her mother, it doesn’t comfort her like it should. Their intentions are honorable but she doesn’t want them, she wants her mother.
The days seem to go by at a weird pace. It’s like she’s in this state of limbo. She goes through moments of disbelief and that her mother is still alive and about to walk through her front door. Then it comes crashing down when she catches sight of her red eyes or the amount of casseroles that litter her kitchen.
Her heart aches and her stomach lurches and she can’t stop the stupid tears that fall. Her mother is lowered into the ground and she’d rather be anywhere but standing there watching. Everyone is gathered around, after all it was the Sheriff that just passed away.
The condolences make her sick and the pitying looks that get thrown her way makes her want to scream. Her friends are always within reach and it’s a little claustrophobic, she can’t go two feet without someone questioning her motives.
So when the funeral is over, she packs a single bag with a heavy heart and locks the door to her childhood home. There’s a one way plane ticket and her passport tucked neatly in her purse and she’s finally ready to let go of all the bad memories.
It’s sad that it took the death of her mother to get her out of that town. There’s too much heartbreak and horrible memories wrapped up within the city limit that she just needs to get out and have a fresh start.
Paris is her first stop and she eventually moves on through every European country and major city soaking in all the culture she’s been denied growing up. After years of exploration she must choose between returning home or travelling further into the unknown. She chooses the latter, moving on to Asia, her first stop is the Philippians.
The hurt in her heart still sits heavy, and even though she’s surrounded by life, art, and culture it doesn’t fill her up completely. There’s something missing and she thinks she knows where to find the solution.
So after five years of being away from home, from taking that first step into self-discovery, she flies back home to the United States. Instead of Virginia, she lands in Louisiana, her destination: New Orleans.
She never imagined this to be her life. She’s 25 with no family and no home, yet she’s showing up on a man’s doorstep asking for a chance.
The heavy heart she’s been used to carrying around with her has shed its darkness and instead there’s an odd fluttering feeling. She knocks on the door and a few seconds later is confronted by the man who’s always been the solution.
There’s a bag at her feet and after the shock has worn off, he slowly takes in her appearance. He wants to speak, she knows that he never expected to take up his offer, but she was so tired of running and just wanted to go home.
Caroline shrugs, not really sure what to say to his questioning gaze. “You said someday."
-
part two:
I’ll still be here (when you open your eyes)
It’s a hard night to get to sleep and her heart sits a little heavier than it had in the past decade. She’s been so full of life and happiness that she hasn’t felt this kind of hurt in a long time.
The day had come with its hardships, like it did every year. She returned back to Mystic Falls, spent the day visiting her mother and filling her in on everything that was going on in her life.
It was crazy, talking to a tombstone, but it brought her comfort. She knew her mother was listening, she felt it in her heart. With her favourite flowers laid down grass to mark her presence, she left and returned home to the love of her life.
Her mother was such a huge part of her life and she can’t help but wonder what would have happened if at the last moment if she had given her vampire blood. Would she have lived still? What if she became a vampire?
Those questions run through her mind at the dark of day when she’s lying in bed with Klaus. He’s fast asleep on his side of the bed, not quite oblivious to her heartbreak but wise enough to give her the space she needs on this date.
Her mind races with different scenarios and sleep is hard to find. She wonders what life would have been like if she had never become a vampire, if Stefan had never found Elena or Mystic Falls. She realizes she would have lost her mother eventually but perhaps not so soon.
Death is inevitable. Klaus had told her that many times over the years, it’s something that humans embrace and vampires for the most part are immune to.
Her eyes get tired and thoughts begin to slow. She doesn’t want to fall asleep, she knows what will happen and is scared to relive that day. But unlike death, she’s not immune to exhaustion, and she falls asleep with thoughts of her mother.
She awakes with a start, her palms sweaty and head racing. The covers rustles and she sees the body beside her turn and stare up at her in confusion. “Another nightmare?”
Caroline looks down at the man, her heartwarming as her thoughts begin to slow. She sinks back down into bed, turning her body so she’s looking into his blue eyes.
The curtains hang open and the moonlight brightens the room in soft hues, it’s just enough light to see his face. He’s worried, he always is when she wakes in that state. The big bad hybrid, concerned because she had a bad dream.
She sighs and nods. “It felt so real, like I was back in that hospital room and she was still alive and talking, making all these demands and then she was gone. I was all alone.”
A tear falls from the corner of her eyes, running down her cheek. With the lightest of touches, Klaus reaches out and brushes it away with his thumb. When another tear falls, he pulls her into his chest, hugging her tight.
“When she died, I was all alone,” she whimpers, being taken back to that day in her dream and in her memories.
Klaus strokes her hair, the soothing motion calming her down. “You’re not alone anymore.”
She pulls back just enough so she can look up and see his eyes. They’re so full of love and emotion, something he only shows around her. “I know,” she smiles up at him, leaning up to kiss him. “I haven’t been alone in over a decade.”
When he smiles that magnificent smile, her heart softens and there’s butterflies floating around in her stomach. She relaxes into his arms and she feels like she’s home.
“I love you,” she mumbles into his chest, placing a kiss just over his heart.
Klaus kisses the top of her head, “I love you too, sweetheart.” He runs his hands down her back, the way he knows she loves. “Go to sleep, my love, I’ll still be here when you open your eyes.”
Caroline closes her eyes and this time her dreams are of him and the past ten years they shared. There’s no death, only love and happiness.
It had taken ten years after that fateful promise at her graduation for Caroline to show up at Klaus’ door. A lot had changed for the two of them during that decade--from losses to gains--but the one thing she had feared turned out to be something she hadn’t needed to worry about at all. He still yearned for her, still loved her in his own 1000 year old warped Hybrid way, and after all Caroline had learned over the last few years she wanted that.
This was the man who would put her first, who believed she could be more than she even thought she could be. This was the man who’d listened to her dreams, who had seen what they were before she’d even given word to them, and wanted her to experience each and every one of them. There was no competition for affections, no being with him because he was the ‘safe option’--if anything Klaus Mikaelson was the least safe option available--but with him was exactly where she wanted to be.
Usually.
She was a bit annoyed with him at the moment and his anti-Christmas stance. “But it’s Christmas! We need a tree.”
“There are plenty of trees all around Paris that are decorated, love. I don’t see why we need one here.” Klaus didn’t even bother looking up from his sketchpad as he waved a hand around their apartment.
“Because its Christmas.” Caroline sighed, realizing she was sounding like a broken record. “Everyone has a tree for it. I’ve always had one. It’s tradition.”
“A very human tradition,” Klaus pointed out, and she rolled her eyes at that. “And one that was appropriated from another culture anyway. The decorating of trees during this time of year was originally part of the Yule celebrations.”
“Okay, if I wanted the history lesson I’d have called your brother.” She headed toward the door, taking her coat off the rack beside it. “You can either come with me for a tree or spend your day doing whatever. But we’re getting one.”
She heard the sketchpad being placed down and grinned as she wrapped her scarf just the way she wanted it, knowing she’d won. If it meant spending time with her Klaus would go along with her idea. “We just need to figure out which store sells the best ones,” she continued, smiling over at him as Klaus pulled on his own jacket.
He quirked a brow at her and she didn’t like that twinkle in his eyes, that ‘I’m going to make you regret this’ look she saw there. “Oh sweetheart,” Klaus murmured as he opened the door for her. “If we’re going to get a tree then we’re going to do this the right way.”
And thus began the epic battle over what was considered the ‘right’ way to do Christmas. Considering the two of them had such big personalities and their own opinions that couldn’t be so easily swayed it should have been a given that it would happen.
“Do you have any idea how much work real trees are?” Caroline groaned as they walked through the lines of them at the outdoor market. “They get those damn pine needles everywhere and sap can fall down and ugh.”
“But they smell better,” Klaus countered and she glared at his back as he picked out the tallest one that would fit into their apartment.
“They have a spray for that now.” Of course he didn’t care. He wouldn’t be the one down on his hands and knees trying to make sure all the damn pine needles were picked up. “And the fake ones last for years so we won’t have to go out every year trying to find the perfect tree. We’ll already have it boxed up and ready to use!”
“Would any of them look quite as majestic as this one?” Klaus pointed out the one a few feet in front of them and Caroline frowned. Well..no. It wouldn’t.
“Fine. You win this round.” Judging by the smirk on his face Caroline knew it was going to be a long day.
~~~
Picking out lights wasn’t any better. “White lights are classic and clean,” Klaus started as he looked over at the colored ones she was eyeing. At least they weren’t the awful ones that blinked in and out. He despised those strands and would put his foot down if needed. “I’d think they would be more your style.”
They were actually but...“My mom always picked out the colorful ones. She used to decorate the entire house with them. Our mantle, the kitchen, the doorways, everything. One year she did my room too.” Klaus put nearly every colored light box into the cart they were using, knowing the subject of Liz Forbes was still a tough one for her and would be for decades to come.
“Let’s go find some ornaments to cover our monstrosity,” Klaus suggested, steering her down toward where those were located.
It took them another hour and more bickering over whether or not they were going to have ornaments in any color or if they were going to be all silver or gold only, Klaus being of the opinion that the lights added enough color and Caroline that there was never too much color.
“You didn’t even want to do this!”
“No, but since we are it might as well be done correctly.”
Would it ruin the Christmas cheer if she smothered him with a Santa hat?
~~~
“What do you mean that you want to hire someone to decorate the tree?” Caroline simply stared at him as they rode the elevator up to their floor. “Why would we need other people to come in and do something that we can do? Besides you know they won’t do it right.” She would end up fixing everything she didn’t like about what they did anyway.
“That’s why you’re present to direct them on where you wish everything to go, Caroline,” Klaus held open the elevator door. “Much like when you directed flower arrangements at the Miss Mystic Falls pageant.”
“And look at how well those girls followed directions. It’d have taken way less time to simply do it myself.” She was certain the girls hadn’t even bothered looking over her plans for everything. “Besides, it’ll be fun!”
She was just going to ignore Klaus sigh as she pulled him into their apartment to start setting everything up to her specifications.
~~~
It was nearly midnight when they had finished and Caroline collapsed on the couch. She smiled brightly at their tree, trying to calculate precisely how many presents were going to need to be put under it to really complete the look. She looked over at Klaus, noting his odd look as he surveyed the room and she wondered if he’d ever really celebrated a Christmas before. At least he was on relatively good terms with Rebekah and Elijah now. Maybe she could see if the other two wanted to be around for Christmas with them...though that might not be the best idea if Katherine was brought along and she had no clue who Rebekah was currently seeing at the moment. She’d need to think over those invitations a little more before making them.
“What are you thinking about?” She moved to stand in front of him, letting Klaus wrap his arms around her as he stared at the tree.
“How you are utterly ruining my reputation.” She laughed at that, pressing a kiss to his stubbled chin.
“We could always put like vervain or wolfsbane or poison in the Christmas cookies that we bake and send them to your enemies?” she suggested, grinning up at him.
“While I do enjoy the added ingredients I am not baking.” Klaus pressed a kiss to her lips as she pouted before pulling her toward their bedroom, intent on distracting her from any further holiday ideas that she might want for him to endure.
It helped that he had mapped out her body countless times in the months that they had been together, that he knew precisely which spots on her skin to suck or bite to bring forth heated moans and have her forgetting everything else for a while. Their clothes were scattered along the floor by the time he had her pressed down into the mattress, legs wrapped around his waist as they started a rhythm that benefited the two of them.
Waiting for Caroline Forbes had been one of the hardest things Klaus had ever done. He’d known she wasn’t quite ready to shed her small town back at graduation, that she hadn’t been ready to take that next big step into the big wide world, that she wasn’t yet ready for him. He had always hated that saying about letting someone go and they’d come back to you if they were truly yours. The downside was that if they didn’t they were never yours in the first place and it had been difficult for him to contemplate a world without Caroline in it when he’d had a glimpse of what it was like to have her there.
Once he’d gotten her though Klaus knew he would do everything in his power to have her wanting to remain at his side. Even participating in ridiculous Christmas traditions if that was what she wanted.
“Oh my god!” she moaned as he scraped his teeth along her neck, causing her legs to tighten further around him. “We forgot stockings!”
Klaus pulled his head up, glaring down at her as she looked sheepishly up at him. “Well we did!” she protested before his lips crashed down against hers, intent on eradicating everything from her mind aside from the two of them joined together.
He used everything he knew about her body, bringing her to the edge several times but never quite letting her fall over it. “Klaus,” she whimpered, her head pressing back against the pillow, his name coming out a second time as a plea.
He knew what would drive her over the edge and let his teeth scrape against her neck again, almost what she wanted, eliciting another moan before he bit into her skin, feeding from her. It was all that was needed to have her tightening around him as her own fangs found his shoulder and bit into it, feeding from him as well. The combination was enough to have Klaus climax as well. Feeding from another vampire was intimate in its own way, and while he was a hybrid that still remained true for him. Feeding while having sex with the woman he loved only made it even more intimate.
His lips found hers as they both came down from their highs, grinning at the taste of his blood in her mouth and vice versa. After a while Caroline curled up against him and Klaus threaded his fingers through her hair, smiling at his accomplishment.
“So aside from stockings we also need to pick up…” Caroline started, going into a long list and Klaus closed his eyes, knowing he’d most likely give into each of her wishes. It was well worth it to do so if it meant having her at his side every day and night for eternity.
I wrote this fic for you while three children were running all around me, high on sugar and christmas adrenaline, so I hope there aren't any mistakes left. Because I was surrounded by noise, I wanted to give Stiles and Derek a privat moment of quiet and intimicy together with a little pack feelings and festive surroundings. I hope you like it and have the best christmas together with all the people you love (and all the food you could possibly eat).
The moment the door finally closes, Stiles can’t help but let out a deep sigh. He loves Christmas, he loves throwing parties and he loves his pack to bits, but there’s no denying that all of that combined is a bunch of work.
For a moment, he listens to the fading footsteps of Scott and Allison on the stairs, then he turns the key in the lock and slowly walks back into flat. He is greeted by the extremely domestic picture of Derek Hale loading the dish washer.
He has been dating Derek for almost three years now, but there are still moments like this that just hit him totally unprepared. Unaware to his internal emotional meltdown, Derek just smiles softly at him and resumes cleaning up the mess everyone made in their kitchen. Their kitchen.
The pack has this tradition for about five years now, Christmas dinner with everyone, friends and family all together, and they switch the location every time. They started at the McCall house, then the next year at Stiles’ house back when he was still living with his dad, then the chaotic one they spend in the flat Kira and Cora shared in college...
But this year was the first time they celebrated at their place, Stiles and Derek’s place. It’s probably because he is so tired he might as well cross into the sleep walking territory in the next five minutes, but Stiles feels suddenly overwhelmed with teary happiness.
Just because he has to do something, he walks into the living room where the floor is still covered in torn wrapping paper, but even that looks really festive and beautiful in the warm glow of the fairy lights on the tree and on the windows.
He bends down and starts to pick it up, absently noticing the little Rudolph’s printed on it. When he looks up again, Derek is leaning in the doorway, smiling at him. Stiles heart flutters.
He walks over to him, his stupidly handsome boyfriend, and wraps his hands around his shoulders, nuzzling his face into his neck.
“Is everything okay?” Derek asks softly.
“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just overly emotional because I’m tired as hell. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Well, that could be because someone didn’t go to bed until two in the morning last night because he couldn’t decide if the wrapping paper with the dogs should go on Scott’s or on Isaac’s present.”
Stiles huffs. “You make it sound like this kind of thing isn’t a big deal and I don’t expect you to know any better, you were indeed raised by wolves, but I did, against popular believe, get actual parenting, and that’s why-“
Derek kisses him, so Stiles stops talking. It’s not like he minds, really. He can tell Derek’s tired, too, by the slow way he moves his lips, but it’s warm and soft and perfect.
“If I figured out this very reliable way to shut you up a little earlier, my life would have been a lot easier.”
“Oh haha, don’t get funny with me, Derek, I know you too well. You love it when I talk endlessly.”
Derek grins, all wolfish teeth. “Whatever makes you sleep at night, baby.”
Stiles hits his arm with as much force as his sleepy muscles can muster. “I hate you.”
After the third time Derek flinched when Stiles pressed a gentle kiss to one of his soft, furry ears, Stiles finally snapped.
“Okay, what? What is it? What am I doing wrong? I'm just touching you, and not even bad-touching you! Just touching! Casually! Why are you acting like I'm hurting you!” He paled suddenly. “I'm not, am I?! Oh, my god, don't just bear it for my sake, you absolute idiot-”
He was shut up by huge paw slapping against his face, aiming for his mouth, but mostly just smacking him on the nose. It did the trick though, and Derek glared at him, obviously conveying his usual “shut up, Stiles” just fine through his wolf eyes.
“Okay, fine, then what is it?”
Derek made the defeated head slump he'd taken to doing every time he wanted to say something but couldn't, thanks to his lack of human features, going on three days now. Stiles had in a stroke of brilliance, if he did say so himself, set up a tablet so Derek could write, scrolling through full-screen sized letters one at a time to manage very basic communication. So Stiles put it in front of Derek and waited while he scrolled and typed with his dinner-plate sized paws.
W H Y
“Why? Why, what?”
Derek huffed and licked Stiles' ear.
“Why the kissing? Because I love you, dude, I thought the last five years kinda made you aware of that.”
Rolling your eyes should not look that exasperated on a wolf, but if anyone could pull it off it was Derek Hale.
B E A S T-
“Why would I love you any less when you're a wol-”
-I A L I-
“Woah, hey, hang on, what the actual fuck?!”
Derek shrugged and stared, obviously thinking he'd made his point, and was now waiting for Stiles to see the wisdom of his words. Or his one partial word, as it was.
“Seriously, Derek, it's not like I'm humping you in public or anything!”
The wolfy glare of disapproval was just as useless as it was coming from a human-shaped Derek, and he just glared right back.
“No, seriously man, it doesn't matter what wrapping you have, it's still you inside! I love you, not your looks.”
Another glare.
“Yes, I love your whole toned six-pack look, and I will tap that as much as I possibly can while we're still young and spry. But, Derek... I want forever with you. I wanna watch you grow old, and I don't care if you go wrinkled, fat or riddled with backne, I'd still wanna touch you, all the time.” Stiles deflated a little, because suddenly he worried that Derek didn't understand. Maybe it wasn't the same for him. Maybe Derek wasn't planning on forever.
Derek was giving him a strange look, ears drooping slightly, And Stiles cursed the fucking spell that was keeping Derek wolfy, because they could really use a talk just then.
“Look, it's fine, we'll talk about this later.”
That made Derek plant a paw on his chest and bark him right in the face.
“Dude!” Stiles protested, but didn't shove Derek off. Obviously they were doing this now. He cleared the tablet of the last words and laid it out for Derek again. He scrolled so fast with his paw that he got a few letters wrong, but as it progressed, Stiles slowly dropped his jaw.
M A R Q Y M F
“Marry you?” Stiles whispered, wide-eyed, and Derek nodded gravely.
“Oh... my god, you did not just propose to me as a wolf! I can't believe this! How could you do this to me!?”
I S T H A T N O
Stiles grabbed Derek by his neck scruff with both hands and looked him in the eye. “No! That is not a no, dumbass! But I am not giving you a yes until you have opposible thumbs again! Are you hearing me Derek?!”
Derek nodded, looking gratifyingly chastised, and Stiles shook the fur in his hands once for emphasis before letting go again, a smirk growing on his face.
“Oh, and I want flowers. And dinner. And you gotta go down on one knee. Gotta do it right if you wanna get with this,” he said, making a sweeping gesture down his body, which made Derek huff and hop off the couch.
“Wait! Come back! You can't run off! We can't argue now, Derek! Not until you can un-wolf and we can have hot make-up sex! Derek!”
Happy Holidays! <3
Title: The Perfect Tree
Words: 385
Rating: G
Summary: Stiles’ and Derek’s search for a Christmas tree starts at a farm.
—-
"You don’t understand, Derek," Stiles said, climbing out of the Jeep. "You can’t just leave a Christmas tree to something like chance. Who knows if you’ll find a good tree out in the forest."
"My father would beg to differ," Derek murmured, rolling his eyes, but letting Stiles lead him away from the Jeep and toward the waiting wagon filled with hay bales for them to sit on.
"The trees here are grown specifically for this," Stiles continued as he climbed onto the wagon, taking a seat near the back. "That way we can expect the best possible tree to come from here."
"You know, for years people have been finding their trees in the woods," Derek pointed out, sitting next to Stiles. "Particularly considering it’s where trees generally come from."
"Come on, give this place a chance," Stiles said as the tractor started moving, carrying them back toward the tree farm. He sighed after a moment, "All right. If you don’t like what we find here, then we’ll go traipsing through the woods to find our tree, deal?"
Derek’s lips curled into a small smile then. “Deal,” he agreed, leaning in against Stiles with the sway of the wagon, throwing an arm around his shoulders. He closed his eyes as they rode along the rutted dirt road, turning and pressing a fond kiss to Stiles’ temple, just letting himself enjoy the moment.
"This doesn’t give you free reign to be stubborn, you know," Stiles said, though his voice was content.
"Wouldn’t dream of it."
"And you have to give my trees a fair chance."
"Of course."
"And I get final say on a tree if we end up in the forest."
"Absolutely."
"You’re just humoring me aren’t you?"
"I’d never."
"Right."
Derek smiled as the tractor slowed down, coming to stop in the middle of rows upon rows of evenly planted evergreens. He left another kiss against Stiles’ temple. “I love you.”
Stiles sighed, shaking his head, not bothering to move when everyone else did. “I spoil you.”
They didn’t get off the wagon until it was back at the parking lot. A few hours later, they stumbled on the perfect tree in the middle of the woods and just because he had promised, Derek let Stiles have the final say (it was yes).
merry christmas, hope your holiday is tons of fun!
all i want for christmas is you
“Oh my god,” Stiles groans, covering his eyes with his hands, “oh my god, I said down and to the right, not halfway across the tree and to the left, I can’t watch this.” After a second of silence he takes a peek through his fingers and swallows down a burst of laughter; Derek is staring at the tree like he’s about to wolf out on it at any given moment, and Stiles rests a hand on his phone just in case. Werewolf videos are almost better than cat videos. Almost.
Of course, Derek Mr. Always in Control Boss Werewolf doesn’t actually do anything exciting. He just kinda glowers at it, like he’s expecting Santa to emerge from the branches and attack him or something. Stiles attempts a put upon sigh, but even to him it sounds stupidly fond.
“How am I supposed to make an honest man out of you if you can’t even hang the ornaments right? And your sense of direction, dude, how do you even find your way home from the grocery store, I feel like I need to put a collar with your address on it in case you get lost and someone wants to send you home, like a lost pet kinda thing, maybe I’ll get you a tag . Or maybe I’ll sign you up for some kind of - directional classes, because this is painful to watch, Jesus.” Derek turns to look at him, hand clutching the ornament a little too tight.
“If I’m doing such an awful job, why don’t you put the goddamn ornaments on?!” he snaps, and Stiles can definitely hear the irritation in his voice but there’s also that edge of unease, and good going Stiles, he had didn’t mean to actually make Derek feel bad, damn it.
“You know exactly why, wolfman,” Stiles says, gesturing to his foot wrapped in white gauze and propped up on the table in front of him, “thanks to the run in with Santa’s demonic little helpers yesterday walking is mostly an excruciating no from me. The tree looks Christmas card worthy, just put that last one on and then get over here, I need my personal heater back.” The tense line in Derek’s shoulders lessens, and he sticks the ornament exactly where Stiles had been trying to tell him to put it in the first place. For quite possibly the first time in his life, he bites his tongue and lets it pass without comment.
Derek collapses on the couch next to him, inhumanly warm arm thrown over his waist in a sign of casual intimacy that makes Stiles feel gooey inside, even though it’s far from the the first time. They sit there for a couple of minutes where it’s silent aside from some muted music from the radio and the slight noise Stiles’ fingers make as they run through Derek’s hair.
Eventually, Stiles sighs, because if he stays like this for any longer he’s gonna fall asleep and as much as he loves that idea (snuggled up with Derek in front of the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve hell yeah), he has to take his pain medication soon. No sleepy time for Stiles just yet.
He nudges Derek, who just lets out a drowsy sort of (completely freaking adorable) growl, and Stiles makes absolutely no effort to smother his grin.
“C’mon sleeper wolf, we need every blanket you can find, and I’m sure you can heat up some hot cocoa without destroying the kitchen? I’ll set up a movie, let’s go, come on!” He tries to shove Derek off the couch, but it’s like trying to move a cement truck on steroids, jeez, and he only manages to have more of a werewolf blanket than before, which he really doesn’t want to complain about but it’s ruining his plans so...he must. He pulls out his trump card.
“Don’t forget, I’ve gotta take some of the good stuff in a couple of minutes. But if you’re laying here, I guess I could just suffer through a couple more minutes of agonizing pain, try my best not to cry at how much it hurts...oh well,” he sighs dramatically, and isn’t at all surprised that Derek is up before he evens finishes speaking.
The werewolf likes Stiles being in pain even less than Stiles does, which is saying something. Something big and important that they’ve both only really poked at because Stiles feel the same way about Derek getting hurt and honestly, that’s delving into starts with l, rhymes with dove territory. Neither of them are ready to go there, not yet.
But this - decorating the tree and cuddling and kissing - this is good, easy between them, and maybe - maybe Stiles can see it getting there soon. He listens to Derek moving through the kitchen, and basks in the domesticity of this, of them, and thinks that he really doesn’t need any other presents (except maybe the new Halo game - maybe!).
Stiles tilts his head back, closes his eyes, and says a quick thanks to whoever it was that let him have Derek for Christmas - and he really, really hopes that there’s no gift receipt.
It was decided that running to the mountains would be the safest place for them. Beyond that, the exact location was chosen by having Scott close his eyes and stick a pin in a list of possible campsites –that way
no one could use any form of logic to determine their location. Derek had initially scoffed at the idea, but ultimately had to agree that it made sense. In the end, the group consisted of Stiles, Lydia, Derek, and Scott
–each one on the Deadpool for an unholy amount of money. Kira had elected to stay behind in order to keep guard over her mother.
Despite their best efforts, they knew it was still only a matter of time before they were found. Stiles had put up wards around the campsite that would alert him to the presence of an intruder while it was Derek’s turn to keep physical watch as an added precaution. Because of this, Stiles was the first one to wake up just before everything went to shit. He kicked Scott as hard as he could and the Alpha immediately jumped to action.
Stiles pointed in the direction the alert had come from just as an earthshattering howl tore through the camp. The sound could only come from Derek and before he knew it, Stiles was sprinting at full tilt behind
Scott –despite Lydia screaming for him to stop and to not throw himself into danger.
By the time Stiles reached the clearing, Scott had already taken care of the assassin. The man looked to be around forty, nothing supernatural about him, and wielded a blade as well as a gun complete with silencer.
To Stiles’ surprise, the man was dead. His head was barely attached to his neck and his eyes stared unseeing into the distance.
“You killed him.” Stiles said, too in shock to notice anything else.
“I couldn’t stop… not once I saw… Oh god Stiles, it’s really bad. I don’t know if even you can do anything.”
And that’s when Stiles realized what was missing –Derek. He had assumed Derek’s howl had been a warning to the others… not a response to his own situation. But now Stiles understood with perfect clarity, as his eyes fell on the bloody body of his sometimesfriend, sometimesenemy, and sometimessomethingelseentirely.
Derek’s previously immaculate white shirt was now red and torn, looking more like a costume for a haunted house than anything that could legitimately happen in the real world. Stiles fell to the ground beside him, one shaking hand going to Derek’s neck to feel for a pulse, the other attempting to slow the bleeding from one of the bullet holes. Scott looked at his friend worriedly, waiting for him to deliver the verdict –if Derek did have a heartbeat, it was too faint for even Scott’s werewolf hearing to pick up.
“It’s there. Barely… I mean seriously barely… but it’s something.” Stiles said, only the slightest bit of relief coloring his tone.
“Ok… let’s get him back to camp where the emergency supplies are and you can work your mojo or whatever.”
Stiles nodded at his friend, not trusting his voice to come out at a reasonable octave if he were to use it. As gently as he could, Scott scooped up the older man –eliciting a small groan and ran as quickly as he could back to where Lydia was already waiting with a first aid kit, Stiles hot on his heels. As Scott carefully laid Derek on a sleeping bag, Lydia turned to Stiles for direction.
“Ok Stiles, what do you need us to do?” But Stiles could barely hear her over the growing panic that was taking over his brain. His breath was coming out in short bursts as he desperately tried to get a hold ofhimself. “Stiles!” Lydia shrieked, still barely managing to be a blimp on Stiles’ radar. It wasn’t until her hand made a heavy connection with his face that he was able to turn towards her and respond.
“I… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. There are two different kinds of poison going through his system and we are miles away from anywhere we might find a cure and that’s just if –big ‘if’, just so we’re clearDeaton
has the right strains of wolfsbane in his office. There aren’t any bullets left in the gun –I already checked and the poison from the blade is already completely gone, gone into Derek by the way. So no, I don’t know what to do!” His voice was rising steadily until he was practically screaming at Lydia, tears of desperation starting to run down his face.
“Ok Stiles, focus. There has to be another way, but before any of that, what do we do first?” Lydia knew the answer to her own question, just as she knew that Stiles needed to answer it in order to clear his head and
begin working through the problem.
“I don’t –I don’t know…” Stiles said again, his breathing getting shallower.
“Yes you do, Stiles. Just take a deep breath and think.” Lydia had no idea how she managed that level of calm, but was glad she did. Stiles followed her direction and took a deep breath, then another.
“We stop the bleeding. We need to put pressure on the wounds. He can’t heal around the poison, so he’ll die from blood loss before he dies from the wolfsbane.” Once he knew the first part, the rest came automatically the years of training overtaking the panic and moving him to action. “Lydia, grab the towels from the medkit. Scott, get Derek’s shirt off, I need to get a better look at what we’re dealing with.”
It was a testament to the severity of the situation that Scott didn’t make a crack at Stiles asking him to remove Derek’s shirt, something Stiles had jokingly asked his friend for on more than one occasion. Stiles forced himself to stay calm as he took in the mess of injury that was Derek Hale.
There were two bullet wounds on the upper part of his chest, dangerously close to his heart but not quite there. There was another
in the lower right of his abdomen, and one more in his right thigh. The worst appeared to be the long gash that seemed to go perfectly from the middleright of his torso to the bottom left, ending just above his leg.
“Holy shit.” Scott said in a shocked whisper.
“Lydia, where are those towels?” Stiles voice came out in a decidedly unmanly tone, though no one would dare call him on it.
“Here, I grabbed everything we had. I got a few of the towels we brought for bathing too… I just didn’t think the med kit was going to cover it.”
“You thought correctly.” Stiles agreed grimly, taking some of the towels and beginning to press down on the gash. The white cloth turned red almost instantly and for a brief moment Stiles thought he was going to be
sick. “Ok Scott, you deal with the bullets on the right, Lydia you take the ones on the left.”
Rather than answer verbally, the other two responded by grabbing their own towels and moving to their assigned positions. Lydia chewed her lip nervously while Scott gnashed his teeth together.
To the casual observer, Stiles may have appeared the calmest of the three –though in reality that was precisely the opposite. His face was a mask of pure concentration as he desperately tried to remember every healingspell he’d ever learned and their exact functions.
His oncentration was shortlived as Derek began to writhe beneath their ministrations.
At first it was a subtle twitching and Stiles hoped that it would subside, sparing Derek from having to be conscious through the pain. Of course, luck was rarely on their side and within moments Derek’s claws extended and he began to pull away from their hands with real force.
For a moment, Stiles was grateful that Derek didn’t have much strength –otherwise there would have been no way of stopping him from clawing out at his friends, two of whom were without werewolf healing abilities.
“Hey Derek, easy buddy. It’s ok, you’re going to be ok. It’s just us. We can’t help you if you keep moving like that, so you just need to lie still and let us take care of you. I know it’s not in your nature, but just this once you need to trust me. I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you, you just need to calm down. That’s it, easy.”
Stiles kept up the endless cycle of similar words, fairly certain that Derek couldn’t really understand what he was saying, but hoping that something in Derek would recognize his voice and realize that he was safe. It took a few minutes, but eventually Derek calmed down and stilled beneath their stillpressing hands.
“Stiles?” he asked, eyes still closed and voice coming out as barely more than a croak.
“Yeah buddy, I’m right here. I’m going to take care of you.”
“Hurts.” He wheezed out.
“I know it does, but we need to keep pressure on the wounds.” Stiles voice broke over the word “wounds” and he hoped desperately that Derek was too out of it to realize how scared Stiles really was. “We want to keep the blood in your body… it’s usually better there.” Stiles joked weakly.
Derek nodded and despite his face clearly being pinched in pain, he was perfectly still. A moment later his face relaxed and Stiles looked over to see that Scott’s arms now had black veins sticking out from them. It
only took a few seconds from there for Derek to drift back into unconsciousness.
“Stiles… I hate to say this…” Lydia began, “But he won’t be able to last much longer like this. The poison is going to spread before we get him back to Deaton’s, and even if it doesn’t, the blood is still coming pretty
fast and I seriously doubt it’s going to clot with the poison still there.”
Stiles nodded, knowing she was right, but unsure of what to do about it.
“Let’s think about this logically… the poison is what needs to be dealt with. Either it kills him, or it stops him from healing… which kills him. We can’t get the poison out and cutting off the areas affected by the poison is also not an option.”
Lydia remained quiet, knowing that Stiles was really talking to himself in the hopes of jogging a memory or coming across a solution.
“We need to make the poison not poisonous!” He shouted excitedly, clarity suddenly appearing on his face.
“Stiles… you’re not making sense.” Scott said, earning him an annoyed glare from Lydia –though she had to admit, she wasn’t following either.
“Werewolves are affected by Wolfsbane… but humans aren’t!”
Scott shot him a skeptical look.“I really don’t think Derek will thank you for turning him into a human… even if it did save his life. And anyway, is there even a spell for that?”
“No, and even if there was I doubt it would work on him seeing as he’s a born wolf. That’s not the point. Me.I am talking about me. I am human… well, at least not wolf.”
“For the love of god Stiles, please, out with it already.” Lydia said, her calm exterior finally cracking.
“I can do a spell for transference.” Stiles said, his face breaking into a grin.
“Stiles… You may be able to heal from the wolfsbane, but you’re still human… you won’t survive four bullet wounds and a slash across the chest.”
“Not all at once. But what if I did it little by little? I could take just enough to keep the poison in Derek at bay.
Plus, I can do something to make myself heal faster so that I can take more… just as much as it takes to get him stable enough to get to Deaton, I promise.”
“Slow down, I’m still confused… what are you doing?” Scott asked in the tone of someone clearly getting tired of being the last one to catch on to everything.
“Transference. I am going to create a link between Derek and me so that we can share his injuries. Technically I could take them completely, but that would just end in me dying and Derek becoming even poutier and more selfloathing than he already is, and I just don’t think the world is ready for that. Anyway, however much of the injuries I take is how much Derek heals. Once I have the injuries, I can heal myself without being bothered by the wolfsbane.” Stiles looked at his friends, proud of himself and hoping to see equal pride in their eyes –instead he saw uncertainty and fear.
“I dunno, dude. That sounds dangerous. Like, could go wrong very easily and with serious repercussions kind of dangerous. Maybe we should keep thinking.”
“WE DON’T HAVE TIME!!!” Stiles screeched, any semblance of control shattering.
“Ok Stiles, calm down. Let’s just think this through for a second.” Lydia said, holding her hands out as though she were trying to calm a feral animal. “What are the possible scenarios if this doesn’t go to plan, that way we can at least be prepared for anything.”
“There isn’t enough time to talk through every little detail! Derek is dying! He’s dying!!! Who cares if it’s dangerous? If he dies, what’s the point in me being alive anyway? You may as well kill me too… I need him to live.”
“Don’t say that, not to me.” Scott said, his voice a low growl. “What am I supposed to do if you die? I already lost Allison, and I’m still standing, and do you know why? Because every day that I don’t feel like being alive, I remember what you said to me at that motel, about being my brother, and about us going together… I stay for you, so don’t you dare fucking leave me.”
Stiles jaw clenched and unclenched, tears filling his eyes as he first took in the face of his best friend and then the face of the man he would do anything to save. It took all his will power, but Stiles managed to take a few deep breaths and mentally organize a short list of possible negative outcomes.
“He won’t be able to heal as fast.” Stiles said slowly, forcing his brain back to the long nights of reading and endless pages of highlighting. “I can’t get any of his wolf stuff because you have to be bitten in order to be turned, but he’s half human so he’ll probably get some of my human stuff for a while. It might make it easierfor his body to push the poison out of his system, but not much –he’ll still mostly be wolf. Healing factors are complicated though… even just a drop extra of human might send it back to a human pace… I don’t know, there hasn’t exactly been a lot of research on the subject so most of it’s just theory.”
“Ok… and what about you? How bad is it going to be for you?” Scott asked, struggling to keep his voice level.
“I mean… it won’t be a picnic. I’m not exactly looking forward to knowing what it feels like to be shot and ripped in half but… it’ll be worth it. And anyway, I’ll do it in increments so I won’t have to feel it all at once.”
“I could help, you know, take some of the pain?” Scott offered, feeling suddenly happy to have found a role for himself in the plan –it almost hurt Stiles to have to crush it.
“Doesn’t work like that. He and I will already be tethered. This kind of connection is more complicated than usual… Think of it this way, Derek is an outlet with only so many places to plug something in. The paintaking thing is minimal, maybe a socket or two at most. The connection I’m going to make, it will take every attachment either of us have.”
“Stiles, are you sure you even know how to do this? I’m not doubting you or anything but… we can’t lose both of you.” Lydia’s voice broke over the end and she looked almost annoyed that her body would dare betray her like that.
“I’m sure. I know I can do this. I don’t know how to explain it, I can just feel it.”
Lydia gave a tight nod in his direction, knowing she had given him this same explanation many times and also knowing how hypocritical of her it would sound if she questioned it. Scott trusted Lydia, so he nodded too, though even as he did it his stomach felt like it was turning to stone.
“Great… let’s do this then.” Stiles said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “Scott, I need you to stop doing your wolfy mojo so I can make the connection. Lydia, could you hand me a clean towel?”
“Sure, what for?” Lydia asked, already reaching into her dwindling bundle. “I might need something to bite on… I don’t want to accidentally bite my own tongue off or something.”
He didn’t need to add from the pain, it was already understood. To her credit, Lydia refrained from saying anything and obediently passed him one of the smaller towels. As soon as Scott’s veins returned to their
normal color, Derek began to groan and his eyes clenched tightly in pain.
“It’s ok, Derek, I got you. I’m gonna make you feel lots better, just hang tight.”
And with that, Stiles began to chant in his head, the words seeming far more familiar now than they had only minutes before. As he did it, his hands began to tingle and heat up. Once they were practically burning, he placed one hand over Derek’s heart and the other on the side of his face.
At first Derek tried to twitch out of his grasp, but it wasn’t long before he was leaning into it instead. Stiles whispered the final words of the binding spell and felt a sudden olt go through his body as their connection was sealed and the path for transference was open. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before and even Derek’s eyes jolted open for a moment as he tried to find the source of the strange sensation.
“Here goes nothing.” Stiles whispered, mostly for his own benefit. With that, he focused on connecting with Derek’s injuries, almost as though he were pulling them through the connection and bringing them over to
his side. He felt it almost instantly, his skin slowly tearing itself apart as he urged it on.
“Lydia, towel.” Stiles barely managed to get the words out before a scream started to build and he had to bite his cheek to keep it from coming out. Even as he tasted blood, he could feel a wail beginning to tear from his throat.
The sound was cut off as Lydia shoved a rag in, and his screech was momentarily paused as his system struggled to comprehend the flavor of terry cloth.
The distraction was short lived and when a scream finally did make its way out it was bloodcurdling, even with the cloth buffering some of the noise.
Stiles could feel blood beginning to roll down his chest and distantly wondered why he hadn’t thought to take his shirt off when he knew full well that this was going to happen.
What a waste of a perfectly good shirt, a quiet voice said somewhere in the back of Stiles’ mind. The pain was starting to become unbearable, but one look at the relief on Derek’s face and Stiles knew he could take more. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed –minutes? Hours? Years? But at whatever point it was, Lydia decided Derek was healed enough for the time being and began to shake Stiles back into focus.
“It’s enough Stiles.” She said, calmly at first. Then louder, “Stiles I’m not kidding, it’s enough. STILES!” She screamed, finally breaking through to the blood soaked man in front of her. “You are killing yourself! I said it’s enough.”
Even as disoriented as he was, Stiles knew it was best to listen to Lydia. He slowly eased off until all that remained was the path for transference between him and Derek with nothing crossing in either direction.
The moment the pain stopped elevating, he felt himself collapse backward, only to be caught by someone strong and with super fast reflexes.
“Thanks, Scott.” The words came out slurred and even that much effort exhausted him.
“God damn it, Stiles! You promised you would stop before you were hurt too badly.”
“’m sorry. Won’ ‘appen ‘gain.” Stiles said, feeling as though his tongue was made of lead.
“Let’s just get you patched up.” Lydia said, her kindness betraying her worry for him more than her screaming ever could.
“How’s Der’k?” He asked, while simultaneously allowing himself to be manhandled into Scott’s arms so that Lydia could begin dressing his wounds. Well, “allow” is a strong word… he probably wouldn’t have faired very well had he tried to fight them on it.
“He’s great, man. His heartbeat is stronger now; I can hear it without having to strain my ears. You rest up –take a beat.” At the thought of Derek, Stiles felt a sudden surge of energy and struggled to push himself up, only to be forced back down by Scott before he made it more than an inch.
“Forget about me,” Stiles said, forcing his voice to sound stronger than he felt. “Keep putting pressure on the bleeding, or all of that will have been for nothing.”
“Ok, I’ll take care of Derek. Let Lydia do her thing, alright? I promise I will let you get back to your suicide mission just as soon as Lydia is convinced you can take more –that means it would benefit you to cooperate and do everything she says.”
Lydia flashed Scott a look of sincere gratitude before saying, “Lay Stiles on one of the other sleeping bags, I can handle the rest.” Scott did as he was told, only pausing when Stiles gasped at the pain of being moved.
“Sorry, Stiles. I swear I’m doing my best not to move you too much.”
“I know Scott, ignore me, I can take it.” Scott’s eyes glowed red in response, but he said nothing. Once Stiles was placed precisely as Lydia wanted, Scott retreated back to Derek’s side and began a much gorier, higherstakes version of Twister as he attempted to apply pressure to each of the wounds singlehandedly.
“I know Derek can’t get infected, but I have no idea what the rules are for you so… better safe than sorry.
This might sting a bit.” Stiles hissed slightly as the peroxide was pressed into one of the quasibulletwounds. Lydia winced sympathetically but did not let up until everything was disinfected to her satisfaction. As she worked, Stiles forced his mind to focus on healing –it wouldn’t be nearly as fast as a werewolf, but it was certainly better than nothing. “It wouldn’t be worth using stitches, they’d just rip open again the second you started pulling from Derek. A few bandages might help keep some blood in, though.”
Stiles watched Lydia work with a mixture of awe and affection. He never ceased to be amazed at how much she knew about everything, and how well she was able to apply what she knew to real life.
In some ways, Stiles thought she would be much better suited to being a healer than he was… but magic didn’t work like that, so instead he accepted his job and when he didn’t understand something in his studies he looked to Lydia for advice and clarity.
Stiles also strained his ears in the hope of hearing something from Derek and was occasionally rewarded with the sound of a strained breath or a low moan. He was relieved to hear that even without Scott’s wolf mojo, Derek didn’t sound like he was in too much pain. Despite taking all that he could handle, Stiles had only really acquired a fraction of what Derek had.
“Stiles, he won’t thank you for killing yourself for him.” Lydia whispered as she continued applying bandages.
“I didn’t mean to…” Stiles said earnestly. Lydia pursed her lips, clearly deciding whether or not to believe him.
“If you don’t have control over this… I don’t know if you should keep going.”
“What’s the alternative? Let him die? I can do this I know I can. I’ll keep it in check next time. I promise, nothing is going to happen to me.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I won’t forgive you for breaking it.” She said, her voice heavy with emotion.
“Believe me, I know better than to break a promise to Lydia Martin.” Stiles answered, giving her a small smile that he hoped was reassuring.
The moment was broken by a scream from Scott.“Guys! Something’s wrong…” Stiles felt his heart beginning to pound, but was able to push down his panic as he attempted to stand.
He barely made it farther than sitting up when he realized how much pain he was in and went crashing back down to the sleeping bag. Scott was there in less than a second; heaving his friend into his arms as carefully as his urgency would permit. He then proceeded to run back to Derek’s side and sit down, pulling Stiles into a position where he was sitting against him.
Derek was now audibly groaning and Stiles instinctively put his hands out and began muttering the chant that granted healers vision. It essentially worked like a scan that pinpointed where the problem was coming from and an idea for what it was.
“How could I be so stupid?” Stiles said it with such force that he actually felt a twinge of pain in his chest.
“What is it, Stiles? And for the love of god stop moving, your bandages are completely soaked through already.” Lydia had gotten to Derek’s side before either of the other two, but was unable to find what the problem was.
“We’re trying to heal him, but we never took the bullets out… his body is trying to knit itself back together around them.” Lydia swore and internally began berating herself for the mistake.
Scott just looked at them awaiting further instruction, knowing that his own panic would help no one and he was far less suited to think of a solution than either of the other two.
“Stiles… you don’t really think he can survive what you’re thinking of, do you?” Lydia asked after seeing a spark of determination in Stiles’ eyes.
“How do you know what I’m thinking of?” Stiles asked defensively.
“There are exactly two options right now: the first, we attempt to get him back to Deaton in time to get the poison out –the odds of which succeeding are slim, especially considering that we’d have to leave you here in order to take him because you are unfit to sit up, let alone make it back to Beacon Hills. Scott is strong, but there is no way he could possibly carry you both and without you to further leech the poison… it’s borderline hopeless.” Stiles nodded as she followed the exact trail of thought he’d just gone down.
“The second one,” Lydia continued, “Is we use our rapidly diminishing medical supplies to get the bullets out and hopefully get his bleeding back under control before he loses too much more and/or the poison reaches his heart.”
“You missed a step.” Stiles said, knowing that Lydia had purposely left out a crucial detail.
“I won’t let you do it –and don’t say you’ll fight me on it, because right now you look like Greenberg could knock you on your ass.”
“You guys know I hate it when you do this, right?” Scott interrupted, looking simultaneously frustrated and concerned.
“Genius over here wants to take more from Derek while we’re in the process of getting the bullets out.”
“That actually makes sense to me… unless you don’t think he can handle it, which I totally understand.” As he said the last part, he gave Stiles a once over and was not reassured by what he saw.
“It’s more than just that, transference works in percentages. It’s not that he takes it little by little, it’s that he slowly increases the percent that he’s taken.”
“Meaning that if you were to slip and do some serious damage, the damage to Stiles would jump with it.” Scott said, finally catching on. “You won’t slip, Lydia… I know you.”
“Trained doctors people who do this professionally slip all the time. I’m going in blind Stiles –I could hit an artery! What if the bullet goes to close to the heart? Not to mention, who knows how much the pain will
increase? What if you go into shock?”
“Stiles… what happens if Derek dies? Like… what exactly is a percentage of the damage caused by death.”
Scott’s question stunned Lydia as she realized she had no idea what the answer was, the thought of Derek actually dying was so out of the question that she hadn’t even really considered that it might truly happen.
“I don’t know.” Stiles answered slowly, receiving angry looks from both of his friends. “I’m serious, I told you the information is all flimsy. Some people say that the connection is just severed… and others say that even a fraction of death is still death so… I guess if that’s true then I die too.”
“Well, that settles it, you are shutting down the link right now.” Lydia said, acid dripping into her voice.
“And just let him die?” Stiles asked, his voice sounding more shattered than angry.
“We can’t lose you too,” Scott whispered, voice hoarse and broken. “It’s already too much. Alison was too much, and Boyd was too much, Erica… even Aiden. It’s just… we can’t… I can’t lose any more.” There were tears in Scott’s eyes as he recounted all the losses and tried to imagine what it would be like for Stiles to be on the list as well.
“Death doesn’t happen to you, it happens to the people around you –to the people left standing at your funeral.” Lydia quoted him, barely able to get out the word ‘funeral.’
“I have to do this… with or without your support.” Stiles tried to make it sound strong and brave, but it was hard when he was barely staying conscious given the amount of pain he was in and blood he’d lost.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scott asked, anger coloring his voice.
“The connection’s been made. No matter what you do, you can’t make me break the link. So you either try to save him, hopefully saving both of us –or you let him die, possibly letting me die along with him.”
“Stiles, that’s not fair and you know it!” Lydia shrieked, anger and fear combining in a terrifying pitch.
“It’s like you said, I don’t want to be left standing at his funeral – I can’t be. I’m sorry Scott, I love you –you’re my brother… but he’s my mate.” Everyone went silent for a moment, unsure of what to say next.
“Stiles… you don’t know that for sure.” Scott said gently.
“I do. I’ve known for a while, actually.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Lydia asked, a little bit of her old love expert tone coloring her voice. “How long have you known?”
“Since the Nogitsune. He… he wouldn’t shut up about it, actually. Whenever I started getting stronger, he would use Derek against me –threaten him and stuff… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. Part of me was still trying to decide what to do with the information and I guess it just didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up.
Not after everything we’ve lost, and then with the assassins… It just didn’t seem like a big priority compared to trying to stay alive.”
“You still should’ve told us.” Scott muttered, sounding hurt.
“When? After Allison died? Or when you bit Liam? Or how about when we were being attacked by men without mouths and poisoned during the PSAT? ‘Wow… we really dodged a bullet there… literally. I mean, a guy was shot right in front of me just before he was actually going to shoot me, but now that that’s over with… Derek’s my mate!’ Not exactly an easy intro. None of that matters now, I mean… clearly he might not
make it long enough to ever find out. But if there’s even the smallest chance that I can keep him alive long enough for him to know, I have to take it.”
“Fine, then let’s do it.” Lydia said, she had hoped to sound strong, but it came out more like a question.
“Lydia, you can’t be serious!” Scott huffed angrily. “What choice do we have? Stiles is clearly not severing the line… the longer we wait the more likely it is that Derek dies –the more likely it is that they both die. If the choice is watching them both die while we argue or doing what we can to save them– there is no choice.”
“Stiles, please, don’t do this.” Scott pleaded one last time, his voice breaking and tears falling freely.
“I’m sorry.” Was all Stiles said in answer, not trusting himself to say anymore and not sure what to say even if he did.
“What’s the best way to do this? What will give you both the best chance?” Lydia asked, switching into action mode.
“The connection has already been made, but it will still be easier if we’re touching. I obviously won’t be able to sit up for very long, but if I lie beside him it will be good enough. You’ll need to grab a scalpel and pliers from the med kit. There’s also a lighter in there that you’ll need. Scott, could you grab two, not grosslooking, sticks? I think that should about do it.”
They each went their separate ways, meanwhile Stiles attempted to position himself in such a way that he could hold Derek’s hand but also not get in the way of Scott and Lydia, especially should an emergency arise and they need to be able to reach both sides of the older man. When everyone returned with their items, Stiles continued his explanation.
“Don’t start yet, I’m obviously not going to be able to talk you through it once it’s happening so I guess I’ll just tell you everything now.” Lydia got the same look in her eyes as she always had when a teacher was mentioning something that was definitely going to be on the test. Her eyes focused in and you could practically see the gears turning in her head as she committed every syllable to memory.
“You’re going to need to hold the scalpel above the flame for around 15 seconds, stop before it gets red or white. It’s going to hurt like a bitch, but it will also hopefully cauterize the bleeding before it gets too bad. I don’t know how bad that’s going to be later when we’re trying to get the poison out, but right now I’m more worried about the blood loss.
“I wish I had more specific instructions for you, but really just stick the blade in until you feel bullet, cut around the bullet and then try to use the blade to push the bullet up into the pliers. If you just go in with the pliers the bleeding with be too bad and you run the risk of pushing the bullet in even farther. Scott, your job is going to be holding Derek down for this. He may look weak, but he’s going to fight this with everything he has. For the record, I will too, but you won’t actually be working on me so you may as well just let me do whatever."
“No matter what happens to me, just keep going.” Scott and Lydia both made faces that clearly said ‘no way in hell,’ but Stiles continued, “If Derek gets worse, I will too. There’s nothing you can do to help me if he
doesn’t stabilize, we’ll both deteriorate together. He needs to be your first priority, otherwise we’re both be dead.” Lydia swallowed loudly but nodded that she understood. “Well, I guess that’s it. Scott, put the stick in Derek’s mouth so he doesn’t break his teeth and toss one this way too.”
Scott did as he was told while refusing to meet his friend’s eye. Even as he handed him the stick, his eyes remained trained on the ground.
“I love you, both of you.” Stiles looked like he wanted to say more, but there was really nothing left to be said.
“Please don’t leave me.” Scott whispered, so quietly Stiles wasn’t even sure he heard correctly. The alpha then took his place at Derek’s head, lightly gripping his shoulders in preparation for what was to come.
“You better not die from this,” Lydia said, her voice full of determination, “I will not be responsible for that… so you better not die. Either of you.” She looked to an unconscious Derek as she said the last part, as though daring his unaware body to defy her wishes.
“Like I said, I know better than to break a promise to Lydia Martin.” Stiles answered, trying to sound confident but missing by a long shot.
He then placed his own stick in his mouth and reached out for Derek’s hand. The man was cold to the touch and Stiles briefly wondered if it was even possible to heal from that much blood loss. The answer didn’t really matter, either way he had to try.
After one final look at Scott and Derek, he gave Lydia a nod and settled back into position preparing for the worst.
Stiles heard the sound of the lighter igniting and forced himself to take deep breaths, clinging harder to Derek’s hand and wondering if he’d ever get the chance to know what it felt like with Derek clinging back.
As soon as he saw Lydia moving to Derek’s side, Stiles began to pull some of the injury from Derek’s side of the connection. He forced himself to maintain as low of a percentage as possible, unsure what the spike would be like when Lydia began.
At first it was like an intense stinging, not unlike holding onto the shocking prankgum Scott had bought when they were kids. When he was certain that was it, he began to take more and more, until the pain wasunlike anything he’d ever felt before and his entire body convulsed to get away from it. He was distantly aware of Derek jerking beside him, barely staying pinned beneath Scott’s restraining arms.
Stiles had learned all sorts of firstaid training from Deaton and knew that inability to get oxygen was one of the easiest ways to go into shock, so he forced himself to breathe despite every instinct tell him to hold his
breath until he passed out and got a reprieve from the pain.
The breathing didn’t help the pain, but it did help his mind clear slightly. He focused his power until he was able to get an idea for how Derek was doing.
Despite the amount that Stiles was taking, Derek’s heartbeat was starting to get fainter and was showing no sign of picking back up.
I’m not taking enough, Stiles thought to himself, I need to take more. So despite everything in his body telling him that he had reached the critical point where he could no longer take anymore, he took it.
The more he took the more he felt the spark in Derek grow, an energy that seemed to fuel him just by its mere presence. Stiles wanted so badly to be able to converse with him, use the link to give the man love and
strength, but his power didn’t work like that, so instead he settled for hoping that Derek could feel his mate’s spark just as clearly as Stiles felt his.
Stiles could feel the ledge approaching, the one where he would have to choose between clinging to the surface and maintaining the amount of injury he was at, or going over and taking most of what was left with
him. He had known that this was where he was heading, had known it since he’d seen Derek lying bloody on the ground.
Actually, he’d known it since the moment that they first met. One look at the broody, muscular, secretly sensitive, secretly broken man and Stiles knew, he is going to be the death of me. He didn’t even hesitate when he reached the ledge, he threw himself over and took all the injury he could with him.
His final thought was of hope that when Derek woke up he would know that for Stiles the choice was simple, Derek’s life for his wasn’t just an acceptable trade –it was a bargain.
And no matter how much pain it caused Derek, Stiles knew it was the right thing, because he could bare the pain of every bullet and every hot knife and gash a million times over, but a world without Derek would be unbearable.
***
Stiles awoke to the sound of beeping and the horrible sterilized scent that told him he was in the hospital. He had barely started opening his eyes when he realized that there was a tube down his throat and began
choking. Even as his brain filled in that it was there to help him breathe and that panicking was not necessary, his chest and throat continued to try and dislodge the intrusive machinery.
“Easy Stiles, easy. I’m going to take the tube out now. It’s going to feel weird, but just try to breathe through it.” The voice talking seemed very far away, but Stiles did as he was told; unable to stop his body from
wheezing even after the tube was gone.
“Here, suck on this.” The voice came again, this time accompanied by the feeling of cold on Stiles’ lips –ice his brain filled in a moment later. His breathing slowly began to regulate itself and finally he was able to open his eyes completely.
For a moment the bright lights blinded him, but as he adjusted he was able to make outthe owner of the voice –Melissa McCall.
“Don’t try to move or talk just yet, you’re still pretty banged up.” Stiles nodded, unsure of how he had gotten there in the first place given that the last thing he remembered was accepting the loss of his own life for the continuance of Derek’s.
At the memory of Derek he began to shoot up out of the bed, only to be stopped by Melissa’s experienced hands and an excruciating pain that tore through his entire body. “Why is it that neither of you boys ever seem to listen to me? I don’t want to restrain you Stiles, but I will if I have to.”
“Derek?” Stiles tried to heave the word out of his abused throat, but it came out more like a squeal. Of course Melissa already knew what he was going to ask, so the actual pronunciation was irrelevant.
“He’s fine –more than fine, he’s completely healed, actually. I would like to point out that I only gave you two rules: don’t move, and don’t talk –and so far you have broken both. However even though you don’t
deserve it if you promise not to break them again, I will allow you to have visitors.
“I sent your dad home because it didn’t look like you’d be waking up any time soon and I thought that after a week without a shower his stench might kill you before anything else… but there is definitely one perfectly
healed werewolf who growls every time you so much as sniff, and I get the feeling that he’s already outside the door. He’s so attuned to the sound of you, I can almost count on him faster than any of the monitors.
You can come in, Derek.”
The second she said his name, an exhausted and anxious looking Derek Hale walked into the room, half looking like he wanted to sprint the rest of the way to the bed, and half looking like he wanted to run in
the opposite direction.
Stiles opened his mouth to say something but instantly closed it when he got an angry look from Melissa.
Instead he tried to make some sort of greeting evident in his eyes, but doubted it was an effective method of communication.
“Well, I have rounds to do, the doctor should be in a little bit later, also I should probably go call your dad and tell him you’re awake. Derek, I am trusting you to keep him under control and make sure he doesn’t
move or talk –you better not betray that trust. Stiles… I am really glad you’re awake.”
Her cheerful façade broke slightly as the emotion penetrated her nursepersonality. A small tear escaped before she could stop it and she hurriedly bent to give Stiles a kiss on the top of his head before walking quickly out of the room.
Derek sat; his movements looked easy and not at all like those of a man who had only recently been on the brink of death. Stiles watched him, waiting for the man to say something rather than just… sit there.
Every few seconds Derek’s mouth would open and then shut again almost instantly. Stiles used the time to try and commit every inch of the man to memory, recalling the recent time when he had been positive they would never see each other again –at least, not living.
“Stiles,” Derek began finally, “What the hell were you thinking?” Stiles had been expecting exactly this reaction. He had known Derek for too long now to think the man would show gratitude, especially when he valued his own life so little and rarely accepted help in the first place. Stiles tried to give a small shrug, but even that movement caused a new wave of pain and he grimaced.
Derek was at his side in a second, his arm flooding with black veins before Stiles could even realize what was happening. The pain subsided quickly, but Derek kept his arm there, unwilling to let Stiles go.
“It’s weird, you not talking. I mean… not as weird as the endless hours of you hooked up to tubes and not knowing if you were going to live… but still weird.”
Stiles wanted to point out that it was weird hearing Derek’s voice so full of emotion, but even if he could talk he doubted he would mention it.
“I don’t… I don’t really know what to say.” Derek said after a minute of awkward silence.
Stiles considered this and then opened his mouth, receiving a glare from Derek, and mouthed the question “how?”.
“It’s complicated… Basically, when you went over the edge, you took everything with you. All the poison went to you and most of the injury… my body healed almost instantly. I woke up to see you practically dead
beside me…”
His voice caught as it was haunted by the memory, but he continued as though he didn’t notice. “Scott and Lydia were freaking out and I didn’t even know what was going on, I just new I had to save
you.
“I could see the way your injuries matched mine, and somewhere in my mind I could still feel you… could still feel the connection you made. I tried to pull the injury back to my side, but you’re the only one who can
actually control it. I saw you going over the edge in my mind, and without thinking I grabbed you. I know i doesn’t make sense, but… it just kind of happened.
“It took most of my strength, but I knew I couldn’t let you die, so Scott helped me carry you back down the mountain until we found a car that drove us to the hospital. The whole time I could feel you in my head,
slipping farther from my grasp but still holding on somehow. When we got to the hospital they wheeled you away, but I could still feel you… was still holding you. And then, you slipped. The connection broke… I
broke.”
This time he did pause, his eyes looking anywhere but at Stiles.
“They brought you back, but the connection was gone… I couldn’t hold onto you anymore. I just had to sit there and wait for them to tell me if you were OK and there was nothing I could do… And then you pulled through.t was touch and go for a while… but eventually they told us they thought you were going to make it.”
Stiles gave him a weak smile in reassurance, wanting to say so much, like how he wasn’t going anywhere and that Derek looked really cute when he was worried, but he knew better than to try.
“Stiles… how could you do that? What about your dad? And Scott and Lydia? What would they do if they
lost you?”
A sense of guilt settled over Stiles, but he brushed it off and forced his abused throat to say, “They would be OK eventually.”
“And what about me?” Derek practically screamed, this time not even trying to hide the emotion in his voice, “I would never could never be OK if I lost my mate…”
Stiles’ eyes grew wide, “You knew?” He mouthed.
“Of course I knew; I’m a werewolf, Stiles.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” The words tore from Stiles throat before he could stop them, and even as the pain brought tears to his eyes, he knew he had to ask.
“I didn’t want to take that choice away from you, you wereare so young… you deserve more than a failed alpha turned beta who can’t even take care of himself in a simple fight. More than a guy who is so emotionally broken he can’t even tell you that he loves you until it’s almost too late. You deserve a choice in who you love.”
“There was never any choice, Derek.” And they both knew that he meant it in more ways than one.
