The Long Way Home

Chapter 15

Stiles hissed in pain as Derek's thumb lightly tugged at the small cut on his left cheek bone, that huntress had managed to split the skin there and he hadn't noticed till Derek had pointed it out. Now Stiles sat on a rock at the banks of a river with Derek leaning over him inspecting his face and body for injuries, the river they occupied was about nine feet across and at least four feet deep, the water ran clear and clean.
Derek had already rebandaged the cut on his arm, it hadn't opened completely which Stiles had been thankful for. Derek had communicated via eyebrows that he was not happy with the teens recently acquired wounds and bruises, making the teen huff in exasperation.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" The wolf questioned.

"Judging me with your eyebrows." Stiles answered with a frown.

Derek's brow furrowed in confusion, almost making the teen laugh. "I'm not judging you."

"Then why do you keep frowning?" The teen questioned as he raised one hand up towards the wolf's brow, squarely placing a lone index finger at the center of Derek's brow like he'd done a few days before.

Derek huffed as he spared the teens finger a single glance before he gently grasped Stiles' hand and pulled it down so he could inspect the bruises that had formed on his knuckles.

"I don't like you being hurt." The wolf said as he grabbed the canteen full of cold river water, and while still holding the teens hand he poured the water over the angry swollen flesh.

"It could've been worse." Stiles admonished softly.

That didn't sooth the wolf's concern, in fact it only earned the younger man an irritated growl in answer.

"Look, Derek I did what I had too, I worked with what I had and came out on top. I really could've ended up worse then I am right now, don't fault me for surviving." Stiles said solemnly.

"I'm not faulting you for doing what you have to do. I get frustrated because I forget that you're not a wolf and you can't heal like I can, if you get injured or sick in some way and it's something I can't fix then you're down for the count, and I'm not going to leave you behind." Derek said as he moved on from Stiles' right hand to the other, it wasn't as bruised as the other, but the cool water would help with the minor swelling.

"Derek, you made me promise to go on without you if something happened to you. You know I wouldn't forgive myself if you got taken down with me. I refuse to leave the people I care about behind, but if it comes down to it, you need to get back home to them, back to the pack, to my dad. Tell him I fought tooth a nail, that he raised me right and I didn't go down without a fight, and that I kicked some serious ass out here...tell him that I love him, that I remembered everything he taught me." Stiles said, his voice cracking as a few tears slid down his face.

Derek felt an ache in his chest, making his jaw clench. He wanted to berate Stiles, there was no way he wasn't getting out of this alive. But he knew that if he spoke out it would ensue another argument between them, he also knew that it would worsen Stiles' mood. Derek wanted to reassure him that everything would work out as it should, but anything that popped into his head just sounded like the beginnings of an argument, so he bit his tongue and pulled the teen into his arms. He could hear and feel Stiles' shaky breath against his ear, and Derek held him as he let the teen cry silently into his shoulder. The constant loom of death hanging over them wasn't anything new to either of them, but to always come so close so often was chipping at their defenses with each passing hour. What they had in their favor was resilience, and it was what kept them going, what they used to push themselves up or to pull themselves back together. They also had a wish to return home to their makeshift broken families that were a work-in-progress all around, they had something driving them, something to look forward to if-no when-they made it home.