[Sterek] Sink Us to Swim (boyxboy) (complete)

Part 63

Peter Hale is in the long-term care ward at the other end of the wing, so they head out away from the nurses' station. "We got him a private room," Derek says quietly, "so if – when he wakes up it won't be too overwhelming."

"Yeah, I can't imagine a hospital is easy on you guys," Stiles says thoughtfully. "Too many sounds and smells, right?"

He nods and comes to a stop, gesturing to the open doorway. It's dimly lit, but Stiles can see the back of Peter's head, slumped but upright in a wheelchair, with a blanket across his lap. At least someone left him facing the window so he can see outside.

"Hi, Peter," Derek says quietly as they enter the room and circle around to his side. "I brought Stiles with me."

Stiles steps around to stand beside Derek, finally able to see Peter's face. It's lax and empty, his eyes not exactly fixed on the window, but almost like he can't look away only because someone faced him that way. She can see the resemblance to Derek and Laura, though, even though all that. He's handsome, like his niece and nephew.

"He was my favorite," Derek says quietly. It must be hard for him to see him this way. "He was the best at pranks, and he always had time for us. I miss him."

"I'm sorry," Stiles says, and reaches out to squeeze Derek's hand, the way he had for her the last time they were at the hospital together.

Slowly, Peter turns his head to face them, and Stiles notices for the first time the burns down one side of his face, scarring it horribly. Derek's jaw drops and he takes a step forward. "Uncle Peter?"

Behind them, the floor tiles squeak, and Stiles turns to see an old man standing in the doorway. He looks familiar but she can't place him. Derek clenches his hand tight around hers, though, and when she turns to look up at him his eyes are electric blue. She looks back to the old man, and then, horrifically, his eyes glow a bright, menacing, familiar red as his expression changes completely and he darts forward to grab Stiles by her free wrist.

"I'm sorry, too," he says, and his voice is cold and flat. "I always did have a certain admiration for your uncle's persistence, Derek, but not enough to let either of you live. Look at all the time and effort I've put into eradicating your kind. I do enjoy that you've brought me such a lovely gift, though."

Just then, Peter stands, wobbling, yanking Derek behind and beside him as Stiles stands, frozen with growing horror. "Gerard," Peter rasps, "let the girl go."

Stiles struggles to free herself from Gerard's bruising grip, but it's no use – he doesn't even appear to notice. "I have to admit," he says slowly with a cruel grin she can just see the corner of, "I was disappointed thinking I'd have to kill you without a fight. I much prefer it when you struggle. I feel like I should almost say thank you, but what point is there when you're about to die anyway?"

Just then there's a clatter in the hallway, and Stiles turns to see Scott grab a chair and throw it at Gerard, wheezing. Gerard bats it away as if it were nothing, and the chair clatters to the floor. "Let Stiles go, asshole!" Scott huffs in between great gulping breaths.