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16 weeks

A whole two weeks after the whole jam-doughnuts-are-a-must, Derek had begun having a nightmare of a week.

His hair was going in all kinds of funky directions, including his stubble which had miraculously grown twice as fast as usual.

He'd also grown ankles the size of his calf's, which was new to him.

Then major heartburn after each and everything he ate. It wasn't in the slight enjoyable and he'd thought his body had gotten rid of the stupid bug...but apparently it hadn't, or it was at least still suffering post-bug symptoms.

He'd gotten so rattled about it that he'd refused to touch most foods, since they all gave him major side effects. Not wanting to lie to himself either, he had definitely gained weight and so didn't mind skipping meals.

What had surprised him the most though, was when the Sheriff turned up at the Hale house, politely knocking until Derek answered the door, standing in some loose pants and a dark-stretchy t-shirt.

"Sheriff." Derek has greeted, wondering what crime he possibly could have been a suspect for now, stealing fruit and jam doughnuts? He had the receipt to prove he bought them!

The man shifted on the spot, evidently uncomfortable. "Parrish wanted me to drop this off for you. He said you'd asked him to get you some stuff? He would have brought them himself but he's on a shift."

Derek blinked, taking the bag which the man held out for him. He couldn't recall the last time he spoke to Parrish, never mind asking him for stuff.

Randomly, he remembered what a mess his hair had looked when he was looking in the mirror earlier that morning, it seemingly growing in places on his head that it never had before and he ran a hand through his hair self-consciously. He was a hot mess.

"He said he'll pop by later, he has some things he wants to talk to you about." The Sheriff nodded at Derek and he just blinked back in response.

"Okay." Derek said finally, a small nod. He didn't have a clue what was in the back, nor what Parrish had wanted or needed to talk with him about. "Thank you for bringing this."

"That's-uh no problem."

Derek was sensing awkwardness, as the Sheriff shifted on the spot and avoided Derek's eyes. He hoped Stiles hadn't told him about...well, things.

"I'll see you later, Derek." The man nodded again, finally meeting Derek's eyes with a smile.

Derek nodded. "See you."

He slammed the door shut after the Sheriff had walked away to his patrol car and curiously peered into the bag.

There was some more ginger tea, Gaviscon and ice.

He frowned.

Parrish was either psychic or crazy, Derek didn't know.

Emptying the contents out of the bag, he pushed the ginger tea aside and took some Gaviscon, hoping it would save him from the dreadful heartburn he'd been suffering. Then he picked up the ice and took it to the living room with him, where he retreated to his chair and slapped the bag of ice on his ankles.

He sighed with relief and picked up his book, although he knew the thing was seemingly cursed.

Working like a charm, Derek wasn't surprised when he heard the front door swing open and footsteps pattering on the floor until they paused, at which point Derek turned.

"Stiles?"

The younger boy cringed at seeing Derek but stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the wolf.

"You need to cut your hair and shave." He stated with raised eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" Derek growled, even though he was more curious than angry.

"Scott's guilty conscience forced me here. He said you'd be mad if he came, so here I am." Stiles shrugged slightly before tucking on arm over his shoulder. Now he was here, he felt more awkward than he did at pack training.

"Well you can tell him I'm fine." Derek was suddenly overly aware how his ankles were being cooled by a bag of ice and how his extra belly weight was even bigger when he was sat down.

Stiles looked back and forth from Derek's ankles to his face. "Did you hurt your ankles?"

"No," Derek grumbled. "They're swollen."

"Why?" Stiles sat down opposite to Derek, making it obvious that he was staying until he got answers.

Derek shrugged because he really didn't know.

"Have you recovered from Scott kicking your ass?" Stiles snorted and crossed his legs over.

"He didn't kick my ass." Derek retorted, pushing the ice to a comfier position on his ankle than it was previously. "I'm fine."

"I've never seen you look so pale."

"I'm fine." Derek hissed out, closing his eyes for a moment longer than necessary.

"You also looked like you were seeing stars circling around you head, like in cartoon."

Derek shot Stiles a look, one which told him to shut up but apparently Stiles didn't care for barriers anymore.

"You might be ill or whatever but you're still an ass." Stiles crossed his arms over his chest pointedly. "Look...I know you said that it never happened but are we going to at least talk about it?"

No. Derek did not want to talk about it. He'd been embarrassed, knowing that he'd been so exposed to Stiles and didn't want to reveal any of his true feelings towards the human for fear of Scott and the Sheriff's disapproval.

"Okay, nice silent treatment, Derek."

Derek shifted, tugging his t-shirt down to cover his acutely inflamed hips. "I don't think it's a good idea, Stiles."

"What? Me and you?" Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Trust me, I've imagined way too many things in my head for you to just reject the idea completely. We'd be good together." He attempted, trying to convince the older man.

Derek sighed slightly, he didn't want to talk about this.

"Just think about it at least!" Stiles pleaded, watching as Derek was about that reject him again.

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