Same Old Song and Dance(Sterek)

This far

Stiles' fingers tapped anxiously along his knee as he sat on the large leather sofa. He desperately wanted to lay down. His head was pounding, and his eyes were swimming with exhaustion, but he refused. Especially with Derek standing by the door like a werewolf bodyguard.

"Could you sit or something, you're making me-" Stiles cut himself off with a wave of his hand. Nervous was the word he was going to use but he didn't like to let his enemies know how vulnerable they made him feel.

"Uncomfortable?" Derek finished for him.

Stiles didn't respond as Derek took a seat on a recliner diagonal from him. "I'm trying to give you space."

This made Stiles look up, his eyes meeting the sage green of Derek's. It would never not unsettle Stiles how someone so monstrous could have such soft eyes. He'd seen those very eyes bleed red in the darkest of nights and yet right now they seemed so concerned or him in the pale lighting of the poorly lit loft.

"Treating me like a wounded animal isn't going to make me trust you," Stiles spat, though it lacked the bitterness he'd been trying for.

"You are wounded," Derek pointed out gently.

"I'm no animal," Stiles grit out. The bitterness prevalent now.

Derek clenched his jaw but didn't respond.

A soft knock had Stiles clumsily jumping to his feet, his hand on his blade.

"It's just Scott," Derek spoke calmly, making his way to the door.

Stiles waited until the door opened to reveal Scott before he allowed the dizziness to pull him back down onto the leather.

"Oh, hun, he looks rough," A female voice forced Stiles to focus his attention on an older woman with eyes similar to Scott's.

"This is Mellissa, she's a nurse and Scott's mom," Derek introduced.

"Is she..." Stiles trailed off.

"No. I'm human. Just like you. In fact, you may not remember me, but I was one of the nurses who took care of your mother, Claudia," Mellissa smiled warmly.

Stiles tensed slightly. He didn't remember this nurse. But he tried not to remember much of the time from when his mother was in the hospital. She had been a different person when she was sick. He had only been eight and it was too hard for him to see her like that.

"I need you to lie back and let me start an IV on you, can you do that?"

Stiles' eyes darted to Scott and Derek.

"We'll be back," Derek gestured to Scott and they headed for the door.

Stiles was thankful that Derek seemed to understand his apprehension. He laid back on the couch and stuck his arm out.

"If you knew my mom, you knew my dad." It wasn't posed as a question, but Mellissa nodded.

"The Sheriff. He was a good man. I'm sorry you had to lose both of them. I couldn't imagine..."

Stiles closed his eyes as he tried to remember his parents together, happy, alive. It was a faint memory. One he couldn't even be sure was real. But it was one he clung to often.

-

When Stiles woke his head only ached slightly. He went to reach for his phone but his hand, instead of hitting his side table, hit air. He peered over to see that he wasn't in his bedroom at all. He bolted up and immediately regretted it as the slight ache turned into a sharp throb.

"Whoa, easy," Derek's voice spoke from the recliner, he leaned forward as if he wanted to help but refrained.

Everything came flooding back to Stiles like a harsh tidal wave.

He gripped his head, which was pounding more steadily.

"Mellissa said you'd be sore, she suggested water and ibuprofen," Derek gestured to the pill bottle and the glass of water that sat on the table in front of him.

"How long was I out?" Stiles asked, opening the bottle and letting four ibuprofen fall into his palm.

"She suggested two," Derek frowned at the pills.

Stiles glared at Derek who put his hands up in mock surrender.

He tossed the pills back and downed half the glass of water.

"How long was I out?" He repeated when Derek didn't answer.

"Six hours," Derek sighed.

"Six hours?" Stiles snapped. "What the hell?"

"You needed the rest," Derek stood as Stiles pushed to his feet.

He was thrilled to find he was no longer weak or dizzy. His pounding head and aching stomach from the healing wound, his only ailments.

"I need to get to my apartment," Stiles said, making his way towards the door.

"We can go now, I'll come with you," Derek followed after Stiles.

The hunter stopped at the door.

"It's not safe," Stiles snapped, turning to find Derek was much closer than he thought. The alpha stood a good several inches taller than him.

"Since when do you care about my safety?" Derek growled softly into the space between them.

"I don't need your pack hunting me cause I got you killed, it's bad enough I have Gerard on my ass."

"You think you're gonna be the one that gets me killed?" Derek raised his brows. A taunting smirk on his lips.

"I think I got this far."

Derek took a half step closer, causing Stiles to swallow and his hand to twitch for his blade in instinct.

"I think I let you get this far," With that he reached past Stiles and pulled the door open before stepping by him. "Besides, I have a car."

Stiles grit his teeth. Damn him.

"Fine, but you have to listen to me," Stiles demanded following Derek down the stone steps.

"Why?" Derek asked, without turning around.

"Because if hunters are there waiting for me, they'll take advantage and go after you and I know their moves. I know how they operate. Are you listening?" Stiles grabbed Derek's arm, as they reached the bottom of the stairs, forcing the alpha to face Stiles.

Derek dropped his eyes to where Stiles was gripping him tightly, as if begging him to see his point.

Stiles quickly released him, before continuing. "They trained me. You may have evaded them for years, but they're after me. You're not target number one anymore. I am. You might want to think about what you've unleashed."

"Okay, how do you want to play it?"

Stiles gaped at the werewolf. He had expected more of a fight. Maybe Derek wasn't stupid. A good leader listened after all. Perhaps that's how Derek had come to acquire such a large pack.

*AN*
And we're back! Hope you guys like it!!🖤🖤