He smelled sick. Damnit. Stiles smelled sick. His breath was rattling in his chest and he had a fever.
Derek growled low and gathered him up and clothed him in clean sweats of his and then wrapped him up in his only blanket as he gathered him up in his arms and descended the stairs down to his Camaro.
He placed Stiles in the passenger seat and clicked his seatbelt on then ran around the car and slid into the seat.
Humans get sick quick. Sometimes they get sick so quickly they can't be helped. He remembered his mother telling him this. He didn't want... couldn't let Stiles die. Just fucking couldn't let him die.
He got to the hospital in record time and tore the belt off his own car in a rush to get Stiles out. He carried Stiles in his arms as he bound into the ER and called out. "Melissa!"
Everything happened quickly after that.
Melissa was indeed on shift and saw Stiles in his arms and rushed them back to the triage area.
Derek waited till the other nursed was out of earshot to tell her what had happened.
Melissa looked like she was ready to kill someone.
Derek was told by the nurses to wait in the waiting room. He didn't listen.
He stood in the hallway by the door. He wouldn't leave while waiting for them to help Stiles.
He stood leaning against the wall listening to everything that was happening. Listening to the nurses hook him up to IV's and the Doctor come in and say he had bronchitis and that if they didn't start treatment it would turn into pneumonia.
He didn't know much about human immunity systems but he did know that humans could die from pneumonia.
His chest felt tight. He stood like a glowering statue just staring down any nurse that dared try to move him.
Eventually they left him alone and he knew that he had to be standing sentry for more than 2 hours. The medicine smell was coming from Stiles room now.
Suddenly he caught another scent.
The older Stilinski. The Sheriff. He was rushing through the hallway towards him. He looked angry and smelled scared. Melissa was walking beside him speaking to him.
Derek could hear her telling Stiles father everything. About Derek bringing him in and about Derek saying that Stiles had been outside in the below freezing weather. About how Derek found him and brought him here after warming him up. She told him the same vague story Derek told her.
Derek didn't want to look up, but he did as the Sheriff was bounding over to him. He looked and smelled angry.
Derek pulled his hands out of his pockets and let them hang by his hips harmlessly.
Then suddenly John gripped his jacket leppels and pushed him against the wall. He let him. "The next time you save my son's life you better give me a call and tell me that my son is in danger! You hear me son?"
John reminded Derek of his own father. He always respected the man. So he nodded his head and quietly answered him. "Yes Sir Sheriff."
Derek expected to get punched. Expected to get threatened with a wolfsbane bullet. What he didn't expect was John Stilinski to wrap him up in a bear hug and tell him gruffly. "Thank you for saving my boy. Thank you."
Derek felt his eyes moisten. "uh..." He didn't know what to do. But at the last second he patted Johns back and hugged back feeling his wolf preening and contented slightly by the older man.
There was a soft pat to his back then John stepped back and then pulled Derek into the room with him and started checking on Stiles as he let go of the wolf's arm.
Derek watched from a dark corner of the room as the father leaned over the son and started to check on him.
Stiles had a black eye and a busted lip and a bruise on his cheek.
He wanted to reach out and take his pain but by the scent of Stiles he was doped up with pain meds as well as antibiotics and steroids.
His erratic fast heart beat was strong.
The Sheriff smelled like relief and anguish all mingled together.
"Who did this to my son?" The sherrif asked with a dangerous lit to his deep voice.
Derek had smelled the ones that had done it. Could track their scents but already knew Jackson was to blame for this.
"Stiles was too out of it to say who it was." Derek stated the truth omitting the fact that he knew who was responsible for Stiles ... for him dying... Derek had to resuscitate him to get him back.
That meant that punishment would be more than a sheriff could legally give out.
The sheriff looked from his son to Derek. Stared at him for uncountable moments. "Don't make me arrest you for murder again, Derek. You hear me?"
Derek blinked in surprise. The man had just given him permission to make the one that did this pay but also set the line at killing. Derek thought for a moment as he looked over at Stiles. "Yes Sir."
Then he was jumping out the window and heading to the woods. His eyes glow bright blue as his fangs and claws grow.
.................................................
He nearly lost it. He nearly killed the boy. He was so close to swiping his claws through his neck. But the image of Stiles laying in his arms kept him from taking the boys life.
Jackson lay in his own piss and shit wailing in pain as he clutched his broken leg and his broken leg. His words garbled through his broken jaw.
He had terrified the boy. He had transformed and drug him into the woods, from where he was getting drunk in his porshe. He had made him run and had run him down like the wolf he was.
He had nearly killed him. Had wanted to. Had wanted to kill him.
But Stiles was waiting. He might need him. He couldn't just disappear on him.
So he let Jackson live.
He ran through the woods back to the hospital. Back to Stiles. Stiles needed him.
His wolf was restless. Even after the hunt. Once he climbed back into the window of the hospital room he noticed the Sheriff sitting beside Stiles prone form.
The Sheriff stood up at the sight of Derek appearing back in the room. "Did you kill whoever it was?"
Derek shook his head slowly.
The Sheriff relaxed slightly and nodded. "Where?"
Derek took a moment to take a slow breath in. He nearly didn't answer. "400 ft east of Mile marker 10."
"Keep watch over him, son." John reached out and patted his shoulder as he headed out the door.
Derek stood there in the dark and watched Stiles as he lay there fighting the sickness that was trying to attack him. Derek slowly stepped up and put his hand ontop of Stiles hand.
Gently he curled his fingers around the long fingers. He pulled whatever pain he could. "He wont ever touch you again Stiles. I made sure of it."
Derek's wolf felt proud that he had taken care of the danger against Stiles.
Stiles made a soft noise and he was about to back away but Stiles fingers gripped his hand slowly and his body relaxed more into the bed. He smelled of relief.
Derek's wolf howled inside him but Derek blinked down in confusion.
