Heartbeat // A Derek Hale Love Story (Teen Wolf)

A Little Less Awful

Lillian's POV

I could feel his hand in mine before I woke up. In the hazy in-between of consciousness and unconsciousness, I could feel his warm fingers curled around my palm, just as they'd been the night before.

I cracked an eye open, sunlight pouring through the blinds and shining on Derek's hair as he slept, breathing slowly. Something about seeing him sleep soothed the dull burn in the stomach, the flaming soreness of my chest. I still didn't want to be there, but...

But watching him sleep made it seem a little less awful, made me feel a little less like I would die like my mother did. I knew it wasn't logical, that what happened to me was nothing like what happened to her, but I still couldn't stand to be inside the walls.

Every time I looked around I saw what happened to her. The beeping of my own heart monitor echoed the flatline. The death of my favourite person in the world.

I glanced at the clock. It was nearly eleven.

Derek inhaled sharply, and my eyes shot to him. He sat up slowly, eyes heavy with sleepiness. "You're awake."

"Mhm," I smirked.

"You look better," he said.

"I feel better," I replied. "It still hurts but it's not as bad as yesterday."

"Hm. You're not just saying that to get to leave, are you?" Derek arched an eyebrow.

"No," I murmured. "I actually feel okay. Do you still have my phone?"

He stuck his hand into his pocket, rummaging around. "Uh, yeah." He fished it out, handing it to me.

The device was smudged with mud for the night before, smeared across the screen and the side of the case.

"Here, let me get that off," Derek said, taking it back and walking to the washroom. The hiss of water as he used a paper towel to wipe it off. He returned it to me, and I found it loaded with notifications. Some were from Stiles, some from Scott. There was a text from Rosie from ten minutes before.

From Rosie: Dad and I went to the cafeteria for food. Be back soon.

"Dad and Rosie are here," I remarked, glancing at the door.

"Okay," Derek replied. "Do you want me to go get them?"

"It's fine," I shook my head. "They'll be back in a bit. I wouldn't mind asking someone about walking. The faster I'm up and walking around, the faster I can get out of here."

"Do you think you're ready for that?" Derek's eyes darkened with concern.

"I don't want to get a blood clot and die, thank you very much," I snapped, half joking. "If I don't get up and moving, my blood might clot and flow to my brain and kill me."

Derek started, "Well aren't you a ray of sunshine this morning."

"Of course I am," I huffed. "It's true, though. I can't just lay around in this bed all day. I'll lose my mind."

"I know," Derek said. "I just don't know if they'll let you leave. You broke a bunch of ribs."

"Unfortunately," I sighed. "Broken ribs suck, let me tell you. You can't cast them, so basically you just sit in pain for six weeks. I don't know if I'll be able to ride for a while. Ophelia will miss me terribly."

"You'll still be allowed to be around her," Derek reasoned.

"I can't ride, though," I insisted. "At least not the way I usually do."

"You'll have to take a break from being a daredevil for a bit," Derek said. "No more hanging out over plunging drops, at least for a while. Even if it gets you a kiss," he added with a wink. My heart lurched, and heat crept into my cheeks as the heart monitor I was attached to revealed to him the effect he had on me.

A smile fluttered across his face. "Too bad, huh?"

"Too bad," I drawled, licking my lips. Derek's eyes darkened at that. I definitely wasn't in any condition to kiss him, but it didn't stop me from wanting to. "But you better stop looking at me like that. Blood pumping faster puts more pressure on the stitches. We don't want that, do we?"

"Of course not," Derek drawled, then cleared his throat. "Do you want me to go find your nurse? Ask about getting up and walking?"

I shook my head again. "I'm fine. I can wait for my dad, or maybe the doctor who operated on me will come for a visit."

"Alright," Derek replied. "But your pain isn't that bad?"

"No," I said. "It's really sore, but I feel less like I'm going to die."

"Right, well, that's always good," Derek nodded earnestly.

Just then, Rosie slid through the doorway, a real version of the ray of sunshine that Derek had sarcastically said I was. Her eyes were no doubt brighter than mine, her face warm in a way I knew my skin wasn't capable of in that moment. I'd lost too much blood, and I knew it had drained my complexion.

"Oh, you're awake," she remarked, taking a seat next to my bed on Derek's opposite side. Dad followed her inside shortly after.

"You look much better this morning," Dad commented.

"Great," I smiled. "Can I leave now?"

"Stop asking, Lillian," my dad replied, his voice edged with the beginnings of firmness. "Dr. Mazurek can decide when you leave."

As if he'd summoned her, the same blonde doctor that took me into the OR the night before stepped into my room, unhooking a clipboard from where it hung by the door.

"I've gathered that you would really like to get out of here, right?"

"That would be lovely, thank you."

"Unfortunately, I would like to keep you here for one more night," Dr. Mazurek's tone left no room for argument as she flipped through the paper.

I frowned, debating the possibility of a positive outcome if I tried arguing with her anyway. I bit my lip.

"I want to confirm the stability of your condition before I let you leave," Dr. Mazurek explained. "If you're feeling up to it, you can go for walks, but other than that, I want you in bed."

I gritted my teeth, hardly trusting my own voice not to break or snap. "Okay."

I didn't really listen to the rest of what she had to say, I just breathed deep and fought against the pressure of the pale walls closing in on me.

It was only one night. I could survive it.