Tears Don't Fall - Sterek

34

"Be careful, the basement was once a wine cellar..." Peter informed Stiles, seeing the panic upon his face. 

"I'm coming with you" Stiles felt Scott's hand on his shoulder. Rather than protesting, he agreed. 

The darkness of the room stretched for what seemed miles, although that was not possible. It smelt musty, yet had a surprisingly moderate temperature. There were large, broken shelves of what once would've been filled with the most exclusive European wines. 

Stiles trudged his way over broken glass, barely able to see the wooden floor beneath the mess. With Scott right by his side, they covered every dusty corner, until Stiles froze, dead in his tracks. 

Derek lay in half-light, completely still, eyes tight shut. His lips were blue, skin grey and cold. He was lifeless, as Stiles footfalls approached him.

Stiles began to panic. 

"Stiles..." he heard Scott's voice.

"No...No Derek" Stiles rushed over to his side, clutching at his torn and bloodied shirt.

"His hearts beating...barely" Scott commented, in a surprised manor.

"Derek, Derek c'mon" his instincts began taking over, pushing and tugging against Derek's chest. He began pushing down, trying anything to stimulate Derek's consciousness.

"Wake up Der, c'mon" he continued shaking Derek's lifeless body, until his own body couldn't take anymore. 

Wincing at his own thoughts, he lifted his hand, balling it into a fist. 

"Please don't kill me for this..." he hesitated slightly before landing a solid punch against Derek's cheek. He jumped back instinctively as Derek's body lurched forwards, his eyes opening in shock. 

He lay, barely breathing for all of a few seconds before Stiles was straight back over to him, staring down at him.

"Stiles...?" Derek managed to get out before his eyes fell back shut. 

"No...no...Derek" Stiles tapped his face, holding his pale cheeks within his own warm hands. "Scott!"

Scott nodded quickly, rushing over. With all of his strength, he helped Stiles drag Derek from the basement, where they were met with Peter. 

"That doesn't look...too good" Peter sounded sarcastic, yet again. 

"Scott!" Stiles turned around to a voice, seeing Allison rush in with her father. "Get him in the back."

"Woah no way" Stiles protested, "we take my jeep." 

"You mean your jeep thats still at the preserve entrance?" Argent questioned. 

Stiles scrunched his face up, huffing. "Fine but I'm not leaving him." 

"I'll get your jeep and meet you there" Scott assured, letting his friend give him one last nod before the scuttled off. 

Peter and Argent lifted Derek into the back of Argent's truck, Stiles refusing to leave his side. 

It was bugging Stiles to how Argent managed to get his truck to them so quick, but he left it to his thoughts and attended to Derek.

He kept a hold of Derek's hand until they arrived at the animal clinic. Scott was shortly pulling in behind them, Stiles could hear the squeak of his brakes. 

From there, they carried Derek inside, rushing him onto Deaton's table.

"We can handle it from here" Deaton excused Peter, Allison and Argent, who hesitantly left.

Stiles watched with perplexity as Deaton rummaged around his draws, pulling various jars and equipment out.  

"What the hell is that?" Stiles' eyes landed upon the bunsen flame that Deaton was holding. 

"He's been poisoned by wolfsbane. This will remove the skin and trigger his healing process, then I can give him an antidote." 

Cringing away, Stiles avoided watching the flame hit Derek's skin. 

The next minute, he heard a deafening roar. He turned around to see Derek, sat up with his eyes red, fangs out. 

"Hold him!" Deaton yelled at Scott, who was visibly struggling. 

Deaton then managed to inject the needle into Derek's forearm, with great difficulty.

Stiles watched a darkened substance seep visibly through Derek's veins. He watched in awe as the colour began to settle back into Derek's cheeks, his body relaxing. 

Deaton further examined Derek, much like a doctor would. "His heart beat is steady. It'll take a short while for the antidote to kick in, the rest will heal as normal over time." 

"So...what do we do with him?" 

"That depends on what happens when he regains consciousness."

Not feeling very comforted by Deaton's words, Stiles took a shaky breath. 

"As of now, you should go and get some food, a warm drink. I'll be sure to call you when he wakes." 

"But-" 

"Stiles, he's right" Scott pleaded. 

"I, what if something happens?"

"You'll be the first to know. But I assure you, he's in safe hands here." 

"Deaton knows what he's doing." 

Hesitantly, Stiles agreed. Thinking about it, he was in need of something to sooth his throat a little, but he didn't feel much like eating. 

With one last look at Derek, Stiles closed the door behind him and Scott, leaving the building.