Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

While Monday may have been a write off due to the epic hangover he was rocking all day, Stiles actually needed to go to his classes on Tuesday. It's the last week before the holidays, and two days before his undergrad's essay deadline, so it's guaranteed that they'll show up to his office hours for once. Stiles manages to drag himself out of bed, get showered, and get himself out the door on time. He stops at Starbucks on the way to pick himself and Kyle up some coffee; the queue is out the door, everyone seems to be younger than him, and their conversations are weirdly infuriating. He's starting to hate undergrads, and also Starbucks.

Even though he makes it to his office on time for office hours there’s already two people waiting outside the door for him. He sighs when he spots them. "Can you give me like ten minutes to get sat down and everything switched on?"

"Sure, Mr S." grins the first kid, and Stiles just knows that this day's going to be a bitch. 

He steps into his office and drops one of the coffees onto Kyle's desk. Kyle doesn't look up at him, but he does make a noise.

"What?" Stiles asks, if only a tad bit sharp. 

"Not the usual place you go for coffee."

Stiles decides that ignoring him is the best idea, and turns on his computer before sitting down at his desk. He takes a sip of his drinks as the PC loads, and the coffee's surprisingly not half bad. It’s not half good either, but he needs the caffeine and it certainly has that in abundance.

“Y’know there's a queue of people outside the door?"

"I'm aware," Stiles says through gritted teeth, and fuck, he can't be bothered with any of this. "I'm just sitting down for two minutes, okay?"

"Hey dude, I'm just saying, y'know, I'm not the one who's gonna get chewed out in the end of semester reviews," Kyle says.

"Yeah well it's two days before the deadline, they should've come earlier," Stiles grumbles. His computer finally logs in, and he opens up his emails but there's nothing of interest. "Also I'm graduating in a few months, so fuck it all."

"Hopefully," Kyle adds. "You're hopefully graduating.” 

"Bite me," Stiles growls.

He goes to the door and calls the first guy in. While he was booting up his computer someone else has joined the queue. 

Fuck his life.

 #

He ends up spending another hour after his office hours have finished, resisting the urge to bang his head against the desk as his students ask him painfully basic questions. He then spends two hours that evening on his computer answering mostly the same questions about referencing and word counts until he finally has enough and sends out a mass email to his entire group with the information, along with a PS that he's going to bed and will answer any new questions emailed to him in the morning.

He goes to the kitchen and puts a mug of milk into the microwave, if he has coffee he'll be up for another two hours and he'd rather go to bed early and get up early than stay up late and sleep in. 

"You gonna go to sleep dude?" Scott asks. 

"Yeah, I just want this week to be over," Stiles sighs. "My students are driving me up the wall. I swear to god this lot are dumber than usual; I went through all this shit with them during the term but apparently no one was listening. Also, earlier I sent out a mass email with pretty much an FAQ, and I can guarantee you that by tomorrow night at twelve I'll have at least two more emails asking me the same shit."

“You haven’t got much faith in them," Scott observes. 

"That's because they're all idiots," Stiles says, running his hands over his face. He pauses, "Well, bar two maybe who seem to have their shit together." 

The microwave beeps and he pulls out his mug, dumping a sachet of chocolate powder into it. "If I'm not around in the morning knock on my door, make sure I'm awake."

"Will do, man," Scott says, giving him a salute before turning back to his textbook. 

Stiles walks carefully back to his room, before stripping out of his jeans and pulling on a baggy T-shirt he used to sleep in. He falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow, not even managing to drink any of his hot chocolate. 

#

Stiles hates mornings with a passion. It's seven and he's already out of bed with a mug of coffee and his email open, answering the ones that had gathered over the night. His phone starts to ring and he answers without looking. 

"Yo, you've got Stiles,” he stiffs a yawn.

"Hey, it's Lydia."

Stiles frowns. "Lydia, why are you calling me at seven in the morning?”

"I knew you'd be up," she says. "I'm organising stuff for getting home and this suitcase limitation seems ridiculous. Can I put some things in your luggage?"

Stiles frowns, "Is that the best reason to be calling that you could come up with Lydia?" 

"It's early, she retorts. "I'm not at my best, so sue me."

"Why are you really calling?" Stiles sighs.

"Just checking in with you,” she says, before hesitating. “You drank a lot on Sunday."

"Well it was a party at Jackson's. I always drink a lot, it's the only way I can put up with being around such a giant douche," Stiles snips. Christ, he's being a dick again but he just can't seem to stop himself. "I'm sorry, that was mean. I'm just tired."

"Consider it forgotten," Lydia says. "You holding up though?"

"Yeah," Stiles says. "I'd be a lot better if undergrads would actually read the emails I sent them, but yeah I'm doing okay."

"And that is why I'm not a TA," Lydia says. 

"Fuck you."

"Language," Lydia scolds. "Anyway I'll pick you up Sunday at four am to get to the airport."

"Wait, four am?! I thought you said we were flying in the afternoon," Stiles groans. 

"I said no such thing, and also I sent you a copy of the tickets so you can't go blaming me for this. I'll talk to you later Stiles,  don't throttle any of your students."

"I'll try," he promises before the line goes dead. 

He goes back to trying to reply to one of the emails without sounding like a dick when Scott pads out of his room. 

"Good to see you're up," Scott yawns. 

"Yeah, yeah, it's a brand new day, the sun is shining, all that jazz,” Stiles waves a hand absently. “More importantly, how do you say 'If you'd done the required reading then you'd be finding this a lot less time consuming' without sounding like a dick?" 

"I don't think there's a way," Scott frowns. 

"Dang," Stiles says. "I'm just going to have to be a dick then."

"You are going to have the worst feedback."

Stiles shrugs, not taking his eyes off of the computer. "I'm graduating in a few months, fuck them."

Scott rolls his eyes and sets down at the table just as Stiles shuts his laptop. "Don't kill anyone," Scott warns him. 

"Funny," Stiles says, stuffing the laptop into his bag. "That's what Lydia said."

"They won't let you graduate!" Scott calls as Stiles heads towards the door. 

"I'd like to see them try and hold me back from graduating," Stiles says with a laugh. "It'd like to see them try." 

He shuts the door and thunders down the apartments stairs and starts his walk into town. Spring seems to have properly started and the wind isn't quite so cold. He heads towards Starbucks again, because it's on the way to his office, and comes to an abrupt halt across the street from the store. "Fucking hell," he mutters to himself. The line is out the door. "Fucking... fuck."

The way he saw it he had three options; number one, he could wait in that massive queue; number two, he could drink the sludge from the vending machine or number three... 

Number three he could go to Perk.

He had no reason not to, other than the possible awkwardness. It's probably the more grown up thing to do, considering that he hates Starbucks and needs a cup of coffee every day. It's not like he's the one who wronged Derek or anything. Derek's the one who blocked his number. 

Stiles turns himself around and heads in the direction of Perk. Erica should be working this morning anyway, he probably won't even see Derek, and even if he does then Derek will just have to deal. 

Perk is exactly as he remembered it, with the overwhelming coffee smell and a few regulars that Stiles recognizes sitting having their morning cup of coffee. Erica's wiping down the coffee machine when he walks in but she puts down her rag and turns to him. She looks confused, and like she's pitying him slightly. 

Stiles frowns at her, "What? What's with the face, Erica?"

She sighs, "Nothing. You want a coffee?"

"Please," he bites back the sarcastic response. 

Derek isn't working, so that's a blessing. Stiles drums his fingers along the counter while Erica makes up his coffee.

"There you are," she says. Stiles digs out his wallet, but she just shakes her head, "Not today Stiles, it's fine."

"I don't want..." Stiles struggles for the word, "Charity."  He tries to push a fiver at her but she just crosses her arms over her chest. 

"I'm not taking your money Stilinski, okay?" Erica rolls her eyes, "God I try to be nice when you're having a hard time and this is what I get."

"Well, you suck at it," Stiles says, frowning. Is it that obvious that he's in the middle of deadline hell? Maybe Derek told her about how he phoned him up drunk and started waxing poetic about his abs. Stiles doesn't know for certain that he did that during their phone call, but it's probably a safe bet that they came up at some point.

Erica snorts and her expression softens, "Are you on your way to see him?"

Okay, Stiles has officially lost track of this conversation. His brow crinkles, "What?"

"Derek," She says, tilting her head. "Are you going to see Derek?" 

"What? Why would I be going to see Derek?" 

"It's not an outrageous assumption," Erica says. "I mean I know you two weren't... official or anything but you  were fucking besotted over him. I mean, you were besotted with each other."

"I'm really confused about this conversation," Stiles says, taking a step back. "I've not spoken to Derek recently, he blocked my number."

Erica's face twists, and her mouth drops open, "What?"

"I said, I've not spoken to Derek, he left me a cryptic message and blocked my number, okay?!"

"Oh fuck, Stiles, I figured someone had told you," Erica looks horrified, and close to tears. He's never imagined Erica as someone who could cry, and the way her eyes are sparkling is quite frankly terrifying.

Oh fuck. 

"Assumed what?" Stiles asks slowly, trying to keep his voice even, but there's this knot in his gut. Something's wrong, oh god, he's spent the last few days pissed at Derek for dumping him but Erica's got tears in her eyes and Stiles is missing something vitally important. 

"Derek," Erica says, but her voice is shaky so she stops, and takes a deep breath before continuing. "Derek got hit by a car."

Stiles' grip on his coffee cup tightens, "What?"

"He... it was an accident, on Monday morning he got into a hit and run accident. I..." She swallows again, glancing up towards the light and blinking, "Someone called an ambulance, uh, they think it was probably the driver."

Stiles feels numb, he feels sick and fuck, Derek got hit by a car. 

"-He was picked just before five o'clock on Monday morning, no one's knows why he was out at that time."

Stiles realizes that Erica didn't stop speaking, and he looks up at her, "What do you mean, 'no one knows'? Derek knows, surely?"

Erica's hands are shaking slightly,it's probably not fair to ask her all these question, Stiles thinks, Erica has to keep working after this, and this is her boss she's talking about. She's worked with him every day for years. 

"He's... they've put him into a medically induced coma," Her voice cracks towards the end. "I don't know anything really, Laura just phoned me on Monday to ask if I could take care of the shop until they figure out what to do." 

Stiles feels sick. "I need to go, I need- Where is he?" 

"He's at the Memorial Hospital, in the ICU. You'll probably need to talk to Laura before they'll let you in to see him, I'll just give you her number-"

But Stiles is gone though, running out of the shop because Derek's in a coma, he's not going to sit around and call his sister, he just needs to get there.

He runs down the street towards the cab stand, and jumps into the first car that he sees. He feels sick, his mind is racing and he can't believe that Derek's in the fucking hospital. Stiles didn't even stop to think something might have been weird about Derek asking him to call him back and then blocking his number. He drags a hand through his hair and takes in another shaking breath, focusing on his breathing to fight off the panic attack that he's worried is coming.

"Whoa, you okay there?" The cab driver chuckles. 

Stiles shakes his head, swallowing down on the lump in his throat. He feels like someone's gutted him, "Uh, the hospital please. I need to go to to the Memorial Hospital."

The driver obviously gets that Stiles isn't in the mood for light hearted banter, so he steps down hard on the pedal. They make it there faster than Stiles thought possible and Stiles gives him thirty dollars before pushing out the door and running towards the hospital. 

It kills him, but he slows down his pace when he get's to the hospital. He pulls out his phone to switch it off when he remembers that he's meant to be taking a tutorial in twenty minutes time. He calls Kyle.

"Kyle, man, I'm sorry, I don't have time to explain, but can you take my tutorial for me today?" Stiles asks, trying to not sound too frantic. 

"Uh, sure?" Kyle pauses. "Are you okay, Stiles?" 

"Physically? Yeah," Stiles says. He's jittery, and he can't stop his hands from shaking. "Look, I'm not going to make it in today or tomorrow, and I know this is a big favor but can you just give my undergrads your email address please and help them with this essay? I can't-" his voice cracks. "I can't-"

"Whoa, man, stop." Kyle says. His voice is firm and Stiles does as he says, taking a deep breath. He squeezes his fist tight, his nails biting into the palm of his free hand and he closes his eyes as Kyle tries to talk him down. "I'll get everything with your undergrads, don't worry about it. If you want, you could give me your email password and I'll set up an automatic response to say that you're out of the office and to forward anything to me if they need to get in touch. Does that sound good?"

Stiles nods, and then realizes that Kyle can't see him, "Yeah, uh yes. My password, it's I-P-2-then a dollar sign-J-J-H-7," Stiles spells out. "The class is in tutorial room 302."

"Okay dude, I've got everything sorted on this end. You can go, it'll be fine."

"Thank you," Stiles says shakily. His adams apple still feels abnormally large and his stomach feels like it's on the fast cycle. "Thanks."

"I'll email your supervisor and say you might be AWOL for a few days."

"Thanks," Stiles says, it's all he can say really. "I gotta go." 

"Take care," Kyle says, but Stiles already hanging up the line and then hitting the power button. 

He stuffs his phone back into his pocket, and rubs a hand over his eyes, then takes a deep breath, stepping through the doors of the hospital. If he was at home in Beacon Hills then he would know where everything in the hospital was but, thankfully he supposes, he's never had to visit this hospital before. He steps up to the reception desk, bracing his hands on it for support. 

"Yes, can I help you, sir?" 

Stiles swallows, "Uh I'm looking for the ICU? I... My brother's in here and I can't get in touch with our sister. I don't know where I'm going."

The receptionist gives him a sympathetic smile, and Stiles was so used to those smiles it takes him right back to when he was nine years old. He needs not to think about that right now, he needs to focus. Derek's going to be fine. 

"There's a few different sections, do you know which one your brother's in?"

Stiles shakes his head. "No but, uh, he's Derek Hale,  he was in a car accident, and... and..." 

Stiles is tugging on his hair with both hands, trying to stop himself from shaking. He can't catch his breath, his chest it too tight, he can't-

One. Two. Three. He forces air into his lungs, and counts his breaths. He's aware that there's now a nurse standing next to him but he ignores her, concentrating on his breathing. Four. Five. Six. 

By the time he get's to fifteen he doesn't feel quite so much like he's going to die. He looks up at the nurse and gives her a shaky thumbs up, "Don't worry, I've had them before, I know how to deal."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just..." Stiles lets out another shaking breath. "It's been a long day."

The nurse looks to the receptionist. "Where's he looking for?"

The receptionist rattles off a wing name and room number, that the nurse obviously recognizes. "I'll walk him there."

"You don't have to-" Stiles says weakly, but she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. 

"Don't worry about it. I was only doing boring things anyway. Gives me an excuse to stretch my legs," she gives him a grin. "C'mon then, let's go see... your brother is it?"

Stiles nods, and resists the urge to hug the nurse. She reminds him a lot of Scott's mom, not in looks since this nurse is about ten years younger and Stiles think's she's Indian, but her mannerisms. He get's a sudden wave of homesickness, and fuck, he was meant to be going home on Sunday. That's not going to happen now; He needs to talk to Lydia. 

"Hey, " the nurse snaps a finger in front of his face, "Don't go getting lost in your head again, okay? One thing at a time."

Stiles doesn't trust himself to speak, so he nods, and gives her a smile, albeit a small one. 

"I'm Nurse Kadam, but you can call me Kim if it makes you feel better." 

"I'm Stiles," Stiles manages to squeeze out. 

"It's nice to meet you," Kim says, directing him into an elevator. She hits the button for the fourth floor and they stand in silence as the doors close. Stiles clenches his hands together and looks up at the bright lights. 

"It's going to be okay," he mutters to himself. 

Kim says nothing, but then she hasn’t read Derek's chart, and she's probably not about to reassure him that everything will be fine while escorting him to the ICU. 

"Have you been in an ICU before, Stiles?" Kim asks him as the elevator comes to a halt. 

The doors slide open and Stiles gives her a nod, "Yeah, uh, my mom, when I was younger..." He trails off. He doesn't need to finish that. 

This is different, he tells himself as he fall into step behind Kim, but it's not convincing him. All he's thinking about is how similar it all feels to the last time he rushed to the hospital to see his mom. The smell of disinfectant is overwhelming, so Stiles tries to remember to breath through his mouth. 

They stop at a doorway with a buzzer and a lock, Kim reaches to the left and squirts some disinfectant from the wall dispenser and Stiles copies her movement, trying to ignore the sting as the alcohol bites at his hangnails. 

Kim hits the buzzer for the intercom, there's a second before another nurses's voice comes over the speaker. 

"Hey there, it's Nurse Kadam, from Cardiology. I've got a Stiles Hale here, he's Derek Hale's brother. It's his first time visiting, you might not have his name down."

There's a pause before the doors click open. Stiles steps forward, and pushes open the door. He glances back to Kim who's giving him a grim smile. 

"Thank you, y'know, I really appreciate it." 

"I hope everything works out," Kim says. 

Stiles hopes that too. 

He turns back around and steps through into the ICU. The room is circular, and although most of the beds have curtains drawn around him the first bed on his right is empty. He forces himself to take another deep breath and walks up to the nurses station. "Uh I'm Stiles, I-"

"Derek Hale's in bed five. Your sister's been briefed already on his condition, but do you have any questions?" 

Stiles shakes his head, and this all seems far too easy. He thought he would have to show proof or something, but no one's asked him for anything. Stiles glances over in the direction the nurse had pointed, the curtains are drawn, "Uh, actually, is Laura there?" 

"No, uh, we suggested she go home," the nurse says. "She was falling asleep by his bedside." 

"Oh," Stiles says.

"She kicked up one hell of a fuss though," she gives him a small grin, "Your family sure are fighters."

He nods because he's not really sure what to say to that. The nurse tilts her head sympathetically at him, "Do you need me to come with you?" 

Stiles shakes his head, "No, bed five, right?" 

She nods, and Stiles turns, heading over in the direction she'd pointed. He pushes aside the curtains slightly and steps into Derek's small section. 

It's simultaneously worse and better than he was expecting. He's obviously not sleeping or anything of the sort, but he's lying still with his eyes closed, and he doesn't look particularly pale or small like Stiles was expecting. They've hooked him up to a ventilator, there's an IV tube coming out the back of one of his hands, and a pulse monitor over one of his fingers. Stiles swallows hard, and forces himself to walk forward to the chair by Derek's bedside. The side further away is covered in cuts and scrapes, and he's got a cast from his elbow down, but the side near the chair is almost normal, y'know, aside from all the tubes sticking out of it.

"Shit Der," Stiles mumbles, giving a faint laugh. Derek's heart monitor beeps steadily, which is reassuring. He sets his hand down on the bed and wraps his fingers around Derek's, careful of the IV's. "I'm sorry it took me so long to visit. I thought... thought you'd cut off contact with me. After what I said. I mean, that was stupid, I know that now, you wouldn't just cut off contact without a word, you're not that much of an asshole." 

Derek's hand squeezes his. 

Stiles blinks, looking up from his hand towards Derek's face, where Derek's eyes are steadily opening. "What?! Nurse!" 

He slams the call nurse button, jumping up to his feet and pulling his hand away. Derek's eyes are open and Stiles swears that the asshole is trying to roll them. 

The nurse hurries in immediately, rushing to Derek's bedside and starting to check his vitals but Derek's firmly shut his eyes again, "What happened, is everything alright?"

"That... that asshole opened his eyes!" Stiles cries hysterically. "I swear, they were open and he squeezed my hand!" 

He nurses' shoulders sag and she looks up at him, "Is that all?"

"What do you mean, is that all, the fucker's in a coma!" Stiles says. The Nurse gives him a look and he winces as he realizes how loud he's being. "Sorry! I'll keep my voice down, but like, he woke up."

"Yes well patients tend do that when we start to wean them off of their meds," The nurse gives him a smile. "He's starting to wake up, they're planning to take him off of the ventilator tomorrow." 

"Oh," Stiles says, and really he should've googled medically induced coma's on the cab ride over or something. 

"I recommend you talk to your sister, Mr Hale, we just beeped her through," The nurse glances over her shoulders and Stiles can hear high heels clicking on the linoleum floors. The nurse smiles at the approaching figure, "Mrs Hale, I hope you got some rest."

"As much as I ever do," says a wry female voice. Stiles can't see her, she's standing just out of view behind the curtain, but he can see a silhouette. She's perhaps as tall as Derek, fuck everything's about to come tumbling down. 

"Well your younger brother has arrived," The nurse says, and Stiles wonders if the nurse has realized that Stiles isn't a brother, and is just waiting for Laura's say so, so that they can throw him out. 

It would make sense, considering Stiles showed up here out of the blue, his name on none of the lists and knowing next to nothing about Derek's condition. Also they look nothing alike. 

The curtain is thrown back and Stiles get's his first look at Laura. She's beautiful, it obviously must run in the family, but she looks tired, drawn out, despite her light laugh. 

She looks at him carefully for a moment before she puts on a big smile, and opens her arms, "Hey there, little bro."

Stiles finds himself standing up numbly and stepping towards Laura. She draws him into a hug and holds him surprisingly tight. He finds himself wrapping his arms around her tightly, burying his face into her shoulder. 

"It's alright," she says, and Stiles hears the nurse draw the curtains again. "He's alright. He's going to be alright." 

"I thought-" Stiles starts, but Laura just rubs a hand up and down his back shushes him. 

"Stiles, it's okay."

"It's not okay!" He starts. "He could've died. He could've died and I wouldn't have known." 

"I should've called you," Laura says, and he thinks that, yeah, he should've been fucking told about all this. "I just... I didn't have your number and Derek's phone got ruined in the accident. I could've tried harder to find it but I've been a bit preoccupied."

He's not mad, but everything's starting to hit him and it's overwhelming. They stand like that for another few minutes before she lets go of him, and pulls up another chair. 

She takes in a deep breath, "So, I mean, I heard a lot about you." 

Stiles frowns, "What?"

"My brother," she clarified, "He talked about you. A lot. It was like he couldn't help himself. I mean, I don't really know what your deal was; he was reluctant to put a label on it."

None of this makes sense, "But Derek said he didn't want to introduce me to you." 

Laura raises an eyebrow at him, before she frowns, "What exactly did he say?"

Stiles racks his brains, "Uh, it was something like... 'I don't want to introduce someone to Laura unless we're officially dating.’” 

Laura blinks at him slowly before she lets out an exasperated sigh and turns to Derek, "You are a fucking idiot, you know that? 'I don't want to introduce someone to Laura unless we're dating'" she says, in a mock imitation of Derek's voice."God, it's no wonder your single."

"What?" Stiles frowned. "I don't... why-"

Laura turned back to him, "Let me guess Stiles, you thought he meant he didn't want to date you?" 

"Uh, well yeah?" Stiles says, and then it clicks into place what Derek meant, when he said that. "Oh my god he's such an idiot." 

Derek opens his eyes again. 

"Yeah, I know you can hear me," Laura says. "Learn to talk to people, dumbass. You're going to end up alone with a dozen cats at this rate." 

They chuckle together, and Stiles feels... lighter than he has in a long time. 

Then Stiles has  a horrible thought, "Oh fuck."

"What?" 

"He was coming to see me, wasn't he?" 

It clicks into place, why else would Derek have been out that early in the morning. Oh fuck, there'd been an accident on his street, he'd had the police at his door! Stiles buries his face in his hands. "I was drunk and I phoned him up and told him that I wanted us to be something official and he was coming over to mine!" 

"Well, that'd explain it. I've been wondering why he was out there at five in the morning," Laura sighs. 

Stiles reaches over to grab Derek's hand once more. His eyes flicker open briefly and shut again. "So," Stiles starts. "What's the damage?"

"Ribs, wrist, shoulder, head," Laura says. "Apparently fairly common for a person vs a car."

"I'm surprised he didn't break a leg."

"Me too," Laura says. "I never asked about it though." 

"Derek said he had two sisters," Stiles says after a moment. 

"Yeah, Cora. She's still on the East Coast, she wanted to come out straight away but with flights and school the earliest she could make it is tomorrow. She flies in for ten." 

"Oh." Stiles doesn't really know what else to say about that, so he changes the subject. "They said something about taking him off of the ventilator?" 

"Yeah well, I don't really speak much hospital jargon," Laura says. "But when he arrived they were worried about his brain swelling? He took one helluva knock to the head."

Stiles can hear the slight tremble in her voice, but he ignores it, Laura doesn't seem like the type to want sympathy. 

"They put him in the coma to let his brain rest, and the ventilator was a part of that or something, I don't really know it was all a bit much. But anyway, he's been responding well so yesterday they started to wean him off the drugs. He's been drifting in an out, uh, at first he seemed a little freaked. They had to restrain his hands and shit because he just kept trying to yank out the tubes and stuff. I... uh, I had to leave for a while but then I came back this morning and he's settled, I think he knows more of what's going on." 

"Yeah well he rolled his eyes at me earlier," Stiles says, glancing over to Derek, but his face is blank now. "I think he's pretty aware in there." 

“It comes and goes,” Laura lets out a shaky laugh, "So, uh, they don't think there's any signs of brain damage, but then there's only so much they can tell before he properly wakes up. They're going to start weaning him off of the ventilator, he should be fairly awake tomorrow." 

"That seems..." 

"Quick?"

"Yeah," Stiles laughs. "I heard coma and was like, imagining him lying there for a few months at least. I mean, that's how coma's work, right? People stay in them for years and then just when you're about to pull the plug they wake up?"

"Well, he's lucky," Laura says. "An idiot, but a lucky idiot." 

Stiles squeezes his hand a bit tighter, but Derek doesn't squeeze back this time. 

"If you want we can do shifts," Stiles offers. "Make sure someone's here most of the time."

"Yeah," Laura lets out a sigh, "I need to start organizing things I think. The past few days I've not done much other than eat, sleep and sit here, y'know?"

Stiles nods. 

Laura lets out a groan, "Fuck, I've gotta figure out how what to do with that shop of his, poor Erica's exhausted."

"I can probably sort that out," Stiles says. "I'll make some phone calls. You want me to see if I can get someone to pick up Cora from the airport?"

Laura shakes her head, "No, uh, if you don't mind actually can you stay here with Derek and I'll go pick her up? I think she'll want to see me, she's been... stressed, being stuck on the east coast."

Stiles nods, he couldn't stand the twenty minutes knowing Derek was in hospital and not being able to see him, he can't imagine what Cora's been going through the past few days. 

"Hey, are you... alright? The nurse said you looked pretty shaken up when you arrived."

"Yeah," Stiles says carefully, not taking his eyes off of Derek. "I dunno, I got a bit of a shock when I saw him."

"Better or worse than your imagination?" Laura asks.

"Both," he says. "I dunno, I kinda forgot about the whole car aspect of it so I was imagining him like, pale, tiny and completely comatose but then I arrive and like... I mean he's obviously not well, but he doesn't seem quite so... coma-ey as I pictured. 

Laura snorts, but Stiles continues on. "Then, on the other hand I forgot to picture scrapes and shit, and y'know, he's got a broken arm and ribs and a black eye and a fat lip." 

Derek's face is actually more purple than Stiles had first though, but then his attention was probably distracted by the ventilator sticking out from his mouth. 

They sit for another few minutes, content just listening to the whir of the machines until Stiles snorts. 

"What?"

"If Derek were able to speak I think he'd be making a joke about how he'd never heard me go so long without talking," Stiles says dryly. 

Laura laughs, "Ugh you’reright, he'd be saying the same thing about me." 

Stiles glances to the clock, and makes a face. "I think I should probably go be responsible and make some arrangements." 

"Arrangements?" 

"Well I was planning on going home to visit Dad on Sunday, so I'll cancel my flights," Stiles says, casting a glance. "I mean, I know he's going to be fine, but I just... I couldn't, y'know?"

Laura glances at the bed as well, "Will your dad be okay with it?"

"Well I mean, he won't be happy but he'll understand. I can guarantee you Derek's going to be giving me grief about skipping my holiday when he wakes up though," Stiles says.

"Oh absolutely." 

Stiles gets up to his feet, and turns back to Laura, and opens his arms. She gives him a smile and stands up, hugging him back tightly. 

"Thanks, y'know, for not chucking me out." Stiles says when they let go. 

"Any time, Stiles." 

"I'll come by for nine tomorrow," Stiles says. "Can you make sure they add 'Stiles Hale' to the list so that there's no trouble with me getting in?"

"Sure," Laura says. 

He hesitates, taking in Laura's tired eyes and lank hair, before he glances back to the clock, it's still early in the day. "Actually, how about I come back at five, and you can get something nice to eat tonight?" Stiles offers.

"You don't have to, Stiles," Laura starts to protest, but Stiles just rolls his eyes. 

"I'll see you at five," he says, and he presses a kiss to her cheek before he goes.

#

Stiles calls Lydia the minute he's out of the hospital. 

"If you cancel my plane ticket can you get a full refund?"

There's a pause, "And hello to you too, Stiles."

He bites his lip, he loves Lydia but she can be difficult. "I'm not in the mood, Lyds, I'm sorry can just just," he pinches his brow, and breathes out slowly. "Can you just answer my question?"

"There might be a small cancelation fee, but it won't be huge. Do you need me to cancel your flight home?"

"Yeah," Stiles swallows, "That'd be good. Also, do you know anyone who's looking for a temporary job? It'd be working in a coffee shop, six days a week." 

Lydia pauses, "I might have someone. Let me make some calls, and I'll get back to you. Anything else?" 

Stiles lets out a sigh of relief, "No, you're a fucking life saver though."

"Oh, I know," Lydia says. "I expect a full story when you have the time."

"I love you too, Lyds," Stiles says, before hanging up the phone. 

He's not really sure where he is, considering he took a cab there and wasn't paying attention to where it went, but there's a bus that has his campus name on it pulling into the stop so he figures that that will get him close enough to home. He needs to see Erica, and he needs to check his email because his phone has not stopped buzzing since he switched it back on, but he decides it can wait until he's had a cup of coffee.

The bus takes twenty five minutes before it drops him back at his office. Stiles loiters outside, contemplating just heading straight to Perk before he deciders that the responsible thing to do is to go and see Kyle. So he makes his way up the two flights of stairs and along the hall to his office. 

Kyle flinches as he opens the door, "Whoa man, I didn’t think you were going to be back today." 

Stiles shrugs, and he kinda hopes he still looks as terrible as he did earlier so that Kyle doesn't think he was playing hooky, He realizes then he has no idea what to call Derek. "I've been visiting the ICU." 

"Whoa," Kyle says. "What happened?"

"Car accident," Stiles shrugs, "Medically induced coma. He's okay though, he's... he's starting to come around. How were my classes?" 

Kyle grimaces, "You have the worst undergrads." 

Stiles snorts, "I'm glad you agree, at least I know I'm not crazy. Thanks, by the way. For earlier; I really appreciated it."

"Any time dude. You need me to cover for you again tomorrow?" Kyle offered.

Stiles nods, "Yeah, uh, I'm just stopping by to make sure everything's okay." 

"I've got it sorted dude. You go deal with your own shit, and I'll call you if there's anything life or death. What time are these essays due tomorrow by the way?"

"Twelve, uh, I'll probably stop by around three to pick them all up, if you're going to be out you can just leave them on my desk."

"No problem. Now go, you look fucking exhausted man." 

Stiles nods absently, before he goes. He heads back down the stairs and out into the fresh air. 

He wants to take a shower, because he knows he smells like disinfectant, but then he's just going back in a few hours and what's the point, really? So instead Stiles heads towards Perk, because someone needed to catch up Erica. 

There's a sign on the door that he hadn't noticed this morning that says 'Due to unforeseen circumstances we shall be open reduced hours,’ and below it it lists when the shops is open. He pushes open the door and walks into the shop. It's unusually busy, and there's a queue of people clamouring for their coffees. Stiles spots Erica who looks frazzled, so he pushes past the queue, ducks under the gap in the counter and grabs one of the aprons from their hanger by the door. 

"What are you doing, Stiles?" Erica says, not sparing him a look. 

"Helping," he replies. "I've been an undergrad, I know how to work in a coffee shop. I'm pretty sure it's a requirement, y'know, along with one math class you've got to pull at least two shifts as a barista."

Erica shoots him a withering glare, but Stiles just slides up to the till. 

"Hi there, sir, I'm sorry for the delay, what can I get for you?" He asks the next customer, forcing a bright smile onto his face. 

Stiles mostly takes care of the till, which allows Erica to focus on making the coffees. It's definitely a two person job when it gets busy. It takes them twenty minutes before the last customer of the lunch rush is served. Stiles turns to Erica and gives her a shaky smile, before holding up a fist, "Fuck that was hectic."

"You've no idea," Erica says, bumping her fist against his. "Thanks."

"No probs, you want to get a break? I can hold down the fort."

Erica nods quickly, tearing off her apron, "Oh gods yes."

She grabs a bottle of juice from the fridge, before screwing off the cap and downing half of it in one go. She then grabs one of the croissants from the display, holding it in her mouth as she prepares an expresso. 

"Don't choke," Stiles says.

Erica mumbles in response, waving a hand at him as she heads out of the back door, towards the small patio just out of sight of the customers. 

Stiles starts to wipe down the counters, taking advantage of the brief quiet spell to clear things away. He manages to get the place almost organised when Erica arrives back from her break. 

"You have any customers?"

"Nah, it's been dead," Stiles shrugs, tossing the dish towel he's holding into the hamper by the sink. "Uh I visited the hospital this morning after I saw you and I've spoken to Laura. I'm sorting out someone to help cover Derek's shifts in the mean time, but are you okay doing the ordering and that for the minute?"

Erica glares at him, "Stilinski, tell me how the fuck Derek is, or I swear to god-"

"Oh, shit," Stiles says, eyes widening. "I forgot, I'm sorry, uh, he's fine. Well no, he's not fine, not by a long shot, but he's waking up. They're gonna start taking him off the ventilator and, y'know, they can't be sure or anything but his head looks good, like damage wise. "

Erica blinks, squeezing her lips firmly together as her eyes fill with tears. "I'm okay," she says, waving Stiles off and reaching up to wipe her face with her sleeve. She lets out a sigh, and gives Stiles a genuine smile, "I'm good. I was just worried, no one had told me anything."

"I'll let you know when he's out the ICU, so that you can visit," Stiles promises. "Are you okay here though? I kind of need to sort more shit out before I head back to the hospital tonight." 

"You're going back?" Erica asks, surprised. 

"Yeah," Stiles shrugs. "Laura looks pretty exhausted and Derek's drifting in and out of consciousness now so she doesn't want to leave him alone. I'm gonna watch him tonight and she's going to eat a nice meal and sleep; I made her promise."

Erica snorts, "Okay, well, if he wakes up say hi for me."

"I'll say hi anyway," Stiles says. "It's hard to tell when he's listening or not, medically induced coma patients apparently can recall a lot of what goes on around them, and hear a lot too." 

Stiles had googled it on the bus back from the hospital.

"Oh, cool, I think," Erica says. "I'll make you a coffee for your journey."

"You don't have to," Stiles tries, but Erica's already halfway through prepping it for him. 

She hands him the to go cup and presses a kiss into his cheek, "Thanks for stopping by Stilinski," 

He salutes her before he turns and heads from the shop, lifting up the countertop for once instead of ducking underneath it. The afternoon sun is warm, and he stands for a minute, letting it wash over him. 

It's okay. 

Things are going to be okay. 

Stiles likes the sound of that. 

#

Scott's in the apartment when he get's home, sitting almost exactly where Stiles left him this morning and it's so surreal that Stiles has to stop and laugh. 

Scott looks up from the book that he's swapped for his cereal, and frowns, "What?"

"You're just... you're in the same place," Stiles says, still laughing to himself. Scott doesn't get it, and he's frankly looking quite concerned for Stiles. Stiles sighs, and shakes his head. "I've just had a busy day, that's all." 

"You okay?"

"Uh, kind of," Stiles drops his bag and slumps down in the seat across from Scott. "So it turns out Derek didn't block my number."

Scott sighs, looking up from his book, "Stiles, if he's playing the 'I lost my phone' card then that's bull, he could've tried Facebook if he wanted to-" 

"Thanks for jumping to my defense there, Scotty, but I wasn't finished. " Stiles takes a deep breath, "He's been in the hospital. He got hit by a car."

"What? When?!" Scott frowns, then his eyes go wide with the realization, "Nooooooo."

Stiles nods. 

"He was- He was the hit and run dude?" Scott stammers. Stiles just nods again and Scott sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. "Holy fuck, is he... is he alright?  I mean, as alright as you can be for being hit by a car?"

"I think so..." Stiles says slowly. "He's on a ventilator and they put him into a coma but he's starting to come out of it and they're talking about trying him breathing on his own tomorrow."

Scott's quiet for a minute, letting that process. "You want me to phone Mom so that you could talk this through with her?" Scott offers. 

Stiles shakes his head, "Nah, thanks for the offer though. I'm gonna go Skype my dad, I'm not making it home next week."

Scott nods, and gives him a small smile, reaching over the table to grab the back of his hand. "I'm glad he's gonna be alright."

"Me too," Stiles says, smiling back before he gets up to his feet. He rubs a hand over his head before he goes to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of Soda. "Wish me luck, I don't think Dad's gonna be too happy."

"He's not gonna be mad or anything." Scott starts, but Stiles just shakes his head. 

"No, no, I don't think he'll be mad, just... y'know, disappointed. He was looking forward to me spending the full two weeks at home. I mean he won't have long to miss me, considering I'm going to have to move into his basement once I graduate, but still."

"Ah," Scott says. "I got you. Good luck dude."

Stiles nods and heads into his room. He puts his laptop on the desk and hits the power button, listening to the window's startup tune. 

His laptop seems to boot even slower than usual. He needs a new computer desperately, he thinks, tapping in his password to the login screen. The computer takes a few minutes before the screen catches up to his fingers and the little blocked out password circles appear. He grabs his phone as the computer starts it's boot up, sifting through his email

Stiles dials his dad's number and waits as it rings. He doesn't pick up; big surprise Stiles doesn't even know why his dad has a cell at this point. He lets out a frustrated sigh, and dials the station number which picks up after three rings.

"Hello, Beacon Hills police station, how can I be of help?" 

"Hey Marjory," Stiles says, because he knows it's Marjory. He's pretty familiar with her voice. "It's Stiles, is my dad there?"

"Yeah he's in his office," Marjory says. "You want to be patched through?"

"Please." 

There's the familiar sound of him being put on hold and then his dad's voice is on the other end of the line, bright and surprised, "Stiles? This is a pleasant surprise. Wait, you don't need money, do you?"

Stiles grimaces, "No, Dad, I don't need money, but it's not a good phone call."

"Are you alright?" his dad demands immediately, and hell, that wasn't a smart thing for Stiles to say. 

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine, everything about me is absolutely fine, promise," Stiles reassures him quickly. "I'm sorry I'm just not going to be able to make it home for spring break like I planned." 

His dad pause, and then sighs, "Did you forget to book transport again?"

"No-"

"Do you need cash for a last minute flight?" 

"It's nice to know you have so much faith in me," Stiles says, smiling grimly. "I just, I can't come home, a friend’s in hospital. He's gonna be alright but it's pretty serious." 

"Not Scott?" is his dad's first reaction.

"Dad, you think if it was Scott was in the hospital that you wouldn't know already?" Stiles shakes his head, "No, you don't know this friend."

"They must be pretty important for you to miss a planned trip home," his dad says, and fuck there's no worming his way out of this without telling his dad everything. "Is this the friend you phoned me distraught about a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah," Stiles sighs, "He got in a car accident. He's in the ICU, they, uh, they had to induce a coma? But he's coming out of it. He opened his eyes earlier when I was there."

His dad sucks in a breath. "Oh shit, kid."

Stiles manages to chuckle, "Language."

"Car versus car?" his dad asks.

"Car versus human," Stiles says. "Hit and run."

"The fucker," his dad swears, and Stiles can't help but giggle. There was a time when his dad used to ban swearing in front of him. Anytime he slipped up Stiles got a dollar. "You need me to come over?"

His dad's voice is soft and comforting, and Stiles want's to say yes really badly. It's only three o'clock and it's already one of the longest days in his life, but instead he swallows and manages to say thanks but no thanks. "I'm doing okay, you don't have to do that."

"You sure kid? I can be on a flight out there in a few days, and Scott's room will be free anyway."

"Really dad, I'm holding up fine. Look, I've got to get back to the hospital soon, and I need to eat before I do, so I'll phone you soon.?"

"Phone me tonight once you get back, no excuses about how late it is, alright?

"Dad-"

"No buts, Stiles," his dad says firmly. "Call me and let me know you're at home and not sleeping in a hospital chair, you got that?"

"Fine," Stiles says with a sigh. "I'll call you from home. " 

"Thank you," his dad says smugly. "I'll let you go, you... take care, okay?"

Stiles takes in a sep breath, head lulling back to look at the ceiling. He wants to go for a nap. "I will. Love you."

"You too," his dad says, a before he hangs up. 

Stiles sits there for a minute, waiting on the strength to move. He was so caught up in the whirlwind of 'Derek's in a coma!' then the 'Derek's gonna be okay!' one hit hit him, and he's not stopped all day.

He lets out a groan and buries his face in his hands, because this isn't fair. None of this is fucking fair. Why did Derek have to get hit by a fucking car? It seems selfish to be even thinking it, but Stiles is wondering why on earth Derek had to chose the week before spring break to get into a fucking car accident. 

Fuck it, it's his own head, if he can't be selfish in his thoughts then where can he be? 

He sits up straight and opens up his email. He's dreading it, usually if he goes a few hours without checking his inbox its cluttered with junk, but with it being the day before a deadline he's expecting lots of emails with 'HELP' written as their subject. 

He's pleasantly surprised to find that that's not the case. There's nothing unread, and Kyle appears to have made a folder titled 'junk mail that arrived while you were away'. There's a few emails from his students, but they've all got replies. Stiles’ opens one of them up and skims Kyle’s answer, but everything seems fine. He lets out a sigh of relief and shuts the gmail account, before getting up to his feet. 

He pads through to the kitchen and opens the fridge. There's no left overs, everything they have requires cooking. Stiles lets out a groan. 

"What's up?" 

"I don't wanna cook," Stiles answers, shutting the fridge. "I have to go soon, I don't even know how to get to the hospital and I can't really afford a taxi."

"I'll drive you," Scott offers. "Well stop at McDonalds and you can get something to eat."

Stiles turns around to face him, "You sure?"

"Yeah, and you can just call me when you want to come home again."

"You don't have to-" Stiles starts, but Scott is just rolling his eyes at him. 

"Yeah I do, man, now grab your coat, we better start moving."

Stiles does as Scott instructs, grabbing his backpack and laptop as well, and follows him down to the parking lot for their building. Scott has a bike that he bought for himself when the dirt bike he rode in high school finally went to the scrapheap in the sky. Stiles takes the helmet and clings on tight to Scott as he zips through the city streets. It's a surprisingly quiet night, but then he supposes people wouldn’t really start leaving town until tomorrow at the earliest and most of the students will have deadlines for the end of this week. 

Scott pulls into the McDonalds parking lot and stops his bike. Stiles hops off, his legs feeling slightly like jelly. It's only four o'clock, so the McDonalds is pretty empty and they're served quickly. Stiles orders a cheeseburger and Scott orders chicken nuggets. 

He sets his tray down at a table sits, before picking the bun off of his burger and tossing the gherkins aside. 

"I don't see why you don't just ask for no gherkins," Scott sighs, sitting down across from him. 

"Because, dear Scott," Stiles starts, putting the bun back onto his burger. "If I were to ask for no gherkins then I would expect no gherkin and I guarantee you half the time they'd' forget and then I'd end up with a mouthful of gherkin."

"You said gherkin a lot," Scott observes. "It's starting to sound weird."

"Your face is starting to sound weird."

Scott just rolls his eyes and pops a chicken nugget into his mouth. "So, Lydia called me earlier and told me to phone back after you came home."

"Oh? Did you phone her back yet?" Stiles asks. Scott nods as he takes a bite of his burger, “What did she want?" 

Stiles' speech is obscured by the mouthful of food, but Scott doesn't care. "She was sorting out your plane ticket, wanted to know if I wanted to sell it to Kira."

Stiles wrinkles his nose, "You're taking Kira home?"

"Yeah, well," Scott shrugs. "She was just planning on staying here. This way you get a full refund at least."

He has a point, but Stiles can't help but feel slightly replaced. You're being silly, he thought to himself, you're the one who chose not to go home.

It's almost as if Scott knows exactly what he's thinking, because he just rolls his eyes, "Dude, I wish you were going home, okay? But I know you've gotta be here, and that's fine, but I'll die of boredom if it's just me and Lydia back in Beacon Hills." 

Stiles rolls his eyes, "I'm telling Lydia you said that."

"It was a comment on the town, not on her," Scott assures him quickly. Stiles snorts. 

"Yeah, well, we'll see if Lydia sees it that way."

Scott kicks him in the shins, and Stiles retaliates by managing to throw a french fry straight down his shirt. They leave before it manages to escalate. 

"He's in Memorial, right?" Scott asks once they step outside. 

Stiles nods, and fuck, he's gotta go back to the hospital. He just managed to get the smell out of his nose and he has to go back. Earlier he was just astounded that Derek was opening his eyes, what if he's worse than Stiles remembers? What if he crashes? What if-

Scott lays a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Stiles, it'll be alright," he says softly. 

Stiles forces himself to breath, "Yeah. It's gonna be fine, I just keep getting wrapped up in my head, is all."

"You sure you're okay to go to the hospital?"

Stiles nods firmly, "Yeah. I better get a move on, his sister needs someone to let her have a break." 

Scott just gives him a small smile, before gesturing towards the bike. "Hop on then buddy."

#

Getting into the ICU is a lot smoother this time around. He can remember the way that the nurse had shown him earlier, and breezes through the hallways towards Derek's room. He hits the call button and introduces himself as Stiles Hale, and the nurse buzzes the door to let him in. 

Laura is sat by Derek's bedside with a book in hand. She looks exhausted. 

He pretends to knock on the curtain, "Knock knock."

She looks up and smiles, "Hey there Stiles, good to see you."

"How's he doing?"

"Good," Laura gives him a smile as he takes the empty seat next to her. "He woke up for a little while earlier so I was telling him all about what an asshole he is for worrying us like this, I think he understood me but it's hard to tell, y'know?" 

Stiles nods, glancing over to the bed again. His chest is rising and falling softly in time with the respirator and there's that steady reassuring beep in the background. "Did they move him?"

Laura nods, "Gotta prevent bedsores."

He's not angled up as high anymore, lying more flat on the bed and the cast arm is at a different angle. 

"Right," Stiles nods. "Anything else happen?"

"He gave me a brilliant display of his tap-dancing abilities," Laura says dryly. "He's really been practicing, I was impressed."

"Hardy har-har," Stiles says. "Is the plan still to take him off of intubation tomorrow?"

Laura nods, "So long as he seems responsive in the morning they'll first take him off the machine and make sure that he's breathing okay on his own and then if everything's okay they'll take out the tube."

Stiles winces, glancing back to he bed, "How far does that tube go?"

"Right into his lungs," Laura says with a shudder. "I mean, he was out of it when it went in and he's only starting to come around now so it's not too bad at least. He probably won’t remember much of it if he remembers anything at all." 

He nods along, not taking his eyes off of Derek, but he doesn't seem to be responding this time. "I've got this tonight, y'know, if you wanna go. You should go," he adds hastily because she'll obviously claim she doesn't want to leave. "Get a good night’s sleep I mean, you've gotta pick up Cora tomorrow." 

She blinks, and then nods, slowly. 

"I've got this," he reassures her. "I promise, when I draw on the fake mustache I'll make sure not to go for the Hitler. It'll be tasteful, elegant. Really class up the place."

Laura snorts, "God I hope you're joking."

"You'll find out tomorrow. Send me a text so that I can have your number," Stiles says as Laura gets to her feet and gathers her things together. "If anything happens I promise I will call you immediately."

"Thanks," Laura says, pulling on her coat. 

"Make sure you eat something nice," Stiles orders. "Take a bath, y'know, the whole shebang. I'm pretty sure there's bubble bath hiding at the back of the cupboard under Derek's sink." 

"Thanks for the tip," she gives him a smile, before turning on her heel and heading from the ICU. 

Stiles glances back at the bed, before he shuffles over and sits down in the chair closer to the bed. He casts a glance to Derek, he's still as bruised and battered as he remembered. 

"Well I hope you don't think that just because you're in a coma I'm here to entertain you," Stiles starts. "I mean, I have my own life, y'know. You're not my only friend." 

Stiles leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. He tries to ignore the beeping, imagine he's just hanging out at Derek's, and Derek is being stubborn about trying to read a book. 

"My Dad was asking after you," Stiles says, which isn't technically a lie. "Well, he knows you as Eric, but there's not much difference. You should meet him sometime, I think you'd like him. You'd both bond over pretending to not find me funny. 

"Erica was asking for you too, told me to pass on her regards. Don't worry, the shops opening reduced hours until we get someone to cover your shifts and I made sure she knew what was going on with you. She was pretty worried." Stiles brow furrows and he opens his eyes again, "We were all pretty worried, okay? You don't get to do that again." 

The heart monitor's steady rhythm is his only response, "God, sometimes it feels like you just don't listen to me anymore."

His humor is wasted on Derek. 

Stiles reaches over to grab Derek's hand again. His skin is warm, and soft like usual and Stiles closes his his eyes again to just pretend that they're not sitting in the ICU. 

There's only so long, that you can speak to someone who's unconscious, Stiles decides, without feeling like you want to prod your eyes out with a spoon. He gets to his feet and stretches out his back before wandering over to the nurses station. "Hey, sorry to bug you, I just wanted to check if I was okay to use my laptop in here?" 

"Yes, that's fine," says the nurse sat behind the desk. "Anything else?"

Stiles shakes his head, taking a step backwards, "Nah, that's all, thanks."

Derek's still asleep when he gets back, or unconscious, maybe? Stiles isn't really sure at this point. He'd kind of assumed that waking from a coma would just be like this sudden moment, where his eyes would open, he'd sit upright, rip out the wires and tubes connected up to him and they'd all hug each other and weep with joy. 

It's not turning out like that at all. 

Stiles sits down and pulls out his laptop, deciding he should use the fact that he can't piss about on Facebook or Tumblr to catch up on his readings. He indulges the sappier part of himself and slides his spare hand into Derek's, scrolling down the PDF's with his other. 

Eventually it clicks to ten and Stiles shuts his laptop down. He glances back over to Derek who's eyes are still closed. 

"Hey, dude," Stiles says. "I need to go. Scott and Dad are waiting up to hear from me but I'll be back tomorrow morning bright and early. And then Cora will be here too! I gotta say, this is not how I imagined meeting your sisters when I left you that message."

He gets up to his feet, and leans in to press another kiss softly against Derek's head, squeezing his hand. Derek doesn't twitch and his eyes don't open, but Stiles doesn't really mind. It's late anyway.

#

By the time he calls Scott, waits on Scott getting to him and then taking him home, calls his dad, brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed, it's past midnight, which makes waking up the next morning feels like a special kind of torture. 

Rather than wait at Perk though, he fills a thermos with coffee and tosses it into his backpack. A few of his tutorial groups papers been uploaded during the night so Stiles prints out hard copies of the essays and packs them into his bag as well. 

He's fully aware though that he might not get a chance to do anything. Derek might be awake, and that's terrifying because if he's awake then they can talk and he might actually have to discuss their relationship like a grown up.

Stiles looked up the bus routes before he went to bed, so he doesn't have to wake up Scott. It takes him twenty minutes and he arrives just before nine. 

He buzzes the ICU, like normal, but rather than being let in there's a pause, and then a nurse comes to the door. Stiles feels his stomach settle with dread, and it must show on his face because the nurse is shaking her head. 

"Mr. Hale, don't worry, nothing's wrong. It's good actually, uh, your brother's been awake and aware all morning. We're just waiting on his doctor coming up to see about taking him off the respirator, so you'll have to wait out here before you can go into see him."

"Oh," Stiles says, the tension bleeding from his shoulders. "Uh, if you're waiting on a Doctor then can I go in and say good morning, quick? Since he's awake?"

The nurse gives him a once over, she's not one that he's met before, "You said you were his brother, right?" 

Stiles nods, swallowing hard. 

"Well," she pauses, and checks her watch, "There's probably time to say hello. Wash your hands and come on in quick."

Stiles gives her a smile, before hitting his palm against the soap dispenser and squirting himself a handful. He follows the nurse in, rubbing it between his palms, before heading over in the direction of Derek's bed. 

He pulls back the curtain and steps in. There's the steady beeping again, and the whirr of the ventilator, but they've propped Derek up so that he's sitting, and his eyes are open. 

He doesn't move his head, but his gaze flickers over to Stiles and stops. 

"Oh christ, they were right. You're pretty awake today, aren't you?" Stiles says, stepping over towards the bed. "Roll your eyes if you mean 'Hey, Stiles, love of my life, it's nice to see you here!’” 

A crease develops between Derek's eyebrows, and he looks like he's trying to glare at him; a feat that's much simpler when there's not a ventilator stoping you from frowning. 

"Look, I'm sure the nurses have already told you this, but they're going to take that... thing-" Stiles gestures to Derek's mouth, "-out. Like as soon as your doc get's here." 

The curtain is drawn back with uncanny timing. Stiles turns around to see a man in a long white coat holding a clipboard. "Well if you're not the doctor, then your costume's brilliant." 

"You must be family of the patient," the doctor responds, ignoring his joke and stepping up towards Derek without so much as a glance to Stiles.

"Yup, I'm his brother," he says, giving Derek a pointed glare. It's really hard to tell if Derek realizes what's going on, given his limited response capabilities. 

The Doctor is looking into Derek's eyes. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to wait in the waiting room while we make sure that he can come off of the ventilator." 

"Alright, I'l... I''ll be in the waiting room," Stiles says, giving Derek a wave and heading outside of his little section of curtain and towards the nurses’s station.

"Mr Hale," says the first nurse, not looking up from her computer screen. "How can I help? 

"Uh can you give me a bell once I can come back in?"

"Sure," she nods. 

"Thanks," Stiles says. He turns and heads towards the entrance to the ICU, hitting the open door button and heading out into the small ICU waiting room.

He's familiar with waiting rooms but somewhere along the line he managed to forget just how horrible waiting room seating was. He's not the only in the room, by far, but it's not busy.  

There's a girl sitting in the front row wearing a bloodied shirt and staring vacantly at the wall in front of her. Stiles avoids eye contact and sits himself at the back of the room, taking off his rucksack and pulling out the thermos of coffee. 

He wasn't sure how long it took to take a tube out of someone's lungs. He didn't think it should take that long, surely putting the thing in was a lot harder,  but he switched back on his cell and fired out a quick text to Laura letting her know what was happening before he grabbed a stack of his marking and a red pen, settling down cross-legged in the chair. He puts in headphones to try and block out the sound of the ICU, which was overwhelmingly grief stricken. Plus the bloodstained girl at the front of the room was starting to cry and that was just distracting, really. 

He skims through the essays he printed out, looking for a name that he thinks won't make him want to cry in frustration, settling on a quiet boy called Jack Marczak who had the only opening line that wasn't a variation on the same thing. He holds the green pen between his teeth and has the red one in hand, deciding to go through for mistakes first. 

He doesn't even notice at first that there's a nurse calling his name, until someone is waving their hand in front of his face. Stiles blinks, jerking his head up. There's a nurse standing in front of him, arms folded across her chest impatiently. 

"Oh shit, sorry!" Stiles exclaims, taking the pen out of his mouth quickly. "I got distracted." 

"I noticed. You can come through now, if you want."

"Is everything..." Stiles trails off, but the nurse nods. 

"Everything's fine, your brother was breathing okay on his own when they took off the machines, so they removed the tube. They've been asking questions and he seems fine, no signs of permanent damage." 

Stiles lets the relief wash over him, sagging back int he chair. "Oh thank lord." 

"Don't underestimate how sick he is though, Mr Hale," the nurse says, observing him carefully. "He'll most likely require at least a month rehab to get back up to his full strength."

Stiles frowns, "Strength? But... he was only under for like four days." 

"Muscle atrophies faster than you would think," she says grimly. "While he's lucky he was under for a short amount of time he's not going to be running any marathons for a while. It might be a few days before he can sit up comfortably.”

"But," Stiles still doesn't understand it. "It was four days. I've stayed in bed for four days before and I was fine." 

"It's not quite the same thing," the nurse says, not unkindly. "Do you want to come through? He's expecting you." 

Stiles nods slowly, picking up his rucksack and following the nurse through to the ward. They stop and wash their hands before stepping through the doors. 

"You know where to go?"

"Yeah," Stiles says, stepping forwards towards Derek's bed. He curses himself; he should've texted Laura and let her know, but it's too late now, he can't use his phone while he's in the ward. 

He pulls back Derek's curtain but can't make himself move forward. 

Derek's there, he's lying there with a small smile on his face, and that big stupid tube that was shoved into his mouth is gone, and he seems so much more free. Yeah, he may still have IV's coming out the wazzoo, but he's smiling and Stiles doesn't now what to do. 

He presses his lips firmly together to stop himself from tearing up, because, damn it, that's not going to happen. 

"Hey, I'm-"

"Stiles," Derek cuts in. "I know who you are." 

Stiles shakes his head, letting go of the curtain and stepping closer to Derek's bed. "They said to always introduce yourself. That you might be confused about things."

"Stiles," Derek says. His breathing is slightly labored but he's managing to give Stiles one helluva condescending stare. "I didn't get hit on the head that hard, my memory's still intact, now… would you take a fucking seat." 

Stiles scowls and drops down into the armchair. "Christ, I don't know why I missed you if you're going to speak to me like that."

"I think you'll live."

"I could leave," Stiles threatens. "I don't have to stay here and listen to this abusive, foul language."

Derek rolls his eyes, and Stiles kinda wants to punch him in the shoulder but that'd probably hurt a lot, so he clenches his hands together 

"What day is it?" Derek asks with a frown, "I-People keep telling me the day but... but time was passing strangely." 

"It's Thursday," Stiles says. "Cora's flying in-"

Derek lets out a groan, head lulling back against the pillows, "Why? She didn't need to-"

Stiles looks at him sharply. "Derek, they had to induce a coma for three days to stop your brain swelling, just don't start saying that you're fine. Let them fuss. God I think Laura didn't leave your bedside unless the nurses forced her too." 

Derek grimaces, and Stiles decided to move the conversation onto lighter things. 

"So," he starts. "How was getting your respirator removed?"

"About as fun as having a tube pulled out of your lungs," Derek says slowly. 

Stiles barks out some laughter, "Glad to see that you didn't lose your sense of humor, that would've been tragic."

They sit for a minute, before Derek clears his throat. He winces straight after and Stiles jumps to his feet. 

"You need a nurse? Dude, are you-"

"I'm fine," Derek snaps. "God, I had to cough is all. The broken ribs make it a bit sore but I'm fine."

"Your such an asshole," Stiles says, before slumping down into the seat next to him. "I've had to sit by your bedside and wipe the drool from your face-"

"You did no such thing."

"-And this is my thanks?" 

"I have a vague recollection of you shouting and calling me a asshole after I opened my eyes," Derek says. He's speaking slowly but it's clear and god Stiles loves the sound of his voice. "I doubt your bedside manner extended to wiping up my drool."

"I should at least get props for not drawing a mustache on your sleeping form," Stiles argues. "That was a super hard impulse to resist."

Derek snorts, but then winces in pain. Stiles does his best to ignore it because apparently Derek's not having any of his worrying.

"Thanks for that," he says finally. "Although if you had done I doubt I would've noticed to be honest. There's not any mirrors near by." 

"I could bring you one if you wanted, but I wouldn't recommend it."

"Is my face that bad?" 

"You look like you lost a fight with a car dude," Stiles says, before reaching out a finger and prodding Derek's cheek, "I'm pretty sure this cut here is a perfect imprint of the hood animate."

Derek flinches his head away before giving him a glare. It's strangely reassuring. 

"Well, I should probably step out for a minute and phone your sister, tell her you've still got most of your brain cells." 

"I'm not appreciating this kind of humor."

"Well tough shit," Stiles says, getting to his feet. "I'll be right back."

He steps outside of the ICU and heads into a stairwell before switching back on his phone. When he call's Laura it's not Laura who picks up, but Cora, who sounds a lot more reserved than Laura, and sighs exasperatedly at him twice over the phone call. But they were already on their way to the hospital, they won't be long.

After switching off his cell, Stiles heads back up the stairs and into the ward, heading over to Derek's bed, where Derek is examining his cast arm. 

"You want me to sign it?"

"Like I have a choice," Derek points out. 

"I'll wait, I need artistic inspiration," Stiles informs him. Derek rolls his eyes. 

Stiles looks down at his hands. His nail bits are bitten raw. He takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly. 

"Show off," Derek mutters. 

"Not my problem if you can't dismissively sigh at me anymore dude," Stiles says. "Now, because I'm obviously the brave and emotionally mature one, are we going to talk about the other night? Y'know, and us?"

Derek opens his mouth, but he doesn't say anything, instead he's looking away from Stiles.

Stiles twists in his seat to see what Derek's looking at. There's a girl standing there, staring at the bed, and she must be about Stiles' age, with long brown hair. There's something familiar about her face and Stiles can't place it till he spots Laura behind her and the realizes that this must be Cora, and he's seen her picture before on Derek's fridge. 

He looked back to Derek, "We'll continue this later, yeah?"

Derek nodded at him, but he was still sitting staring at his sisters. 

"Uh, hey," he croaked out. "It's nice to see you guys.”

Laura's choking back a sob, one hand covering her mouth and Cora just looks frozen, and Stiles can see how tightly she's gripping Laura's hand from there. 

"I... I'm not gonna bite guys," Derek says weakly. 

Cora laughs, and Laura rushes to his bedside, allowing Stiles a distraction to slip out. He doesn't need to be there for this, this isn't his business really. 

He glances at the clock on the wall - it's twelve o'clock, and his breakfast was small so he figures he should probably eat something. 

There's a Starbucks near to the main reception, which sounds about right because Stiles is pretty sure that if you're sent to hell you could turn a corner and there would be a Starbucks in all it's bright and shinny green glory. 

He manages to find a table with his back to a pillar and he digs to out his laptop, setting himself up before he goes to get a coffee and a sandwich. As much as he hates to admit it, the coffee tastes not half bad, and the sandwich is actually pretty good. 

He sits there for a couple of hours. Really it's a time for Derek to be with his family and now that Cora's in town they can swap out with each other for visits to keep him company. They don't need to keep constant vigil by his bedside anymore. 

He has his lunch, chewing his sandwich happily, before pulling up his Facebook. There's a message from Lydia, 

Lydia Martin - I may have found someone to work for you. Are you free to talk?

The message was sent to him three hours ago, but he messages her back to tell her he's free anyway. His phone starts to ring almost immediately. 

"Hey there," he says. 

"How you holding up?"

"He's awake. Talking even," Stiles shrugs, before taking another bite of his sandwich. "I'm having lunch." 

"Oh," Lydia said. "Should you not be up there?"

Stiles shrugs, still chewing on his sandwich. Lydia can't see him though so he says; "I dunno. It's awkward."

"Awkward?"

"Well, I was sitting by his bed," Stiles starts. "And his sisters come in and they're both like fucking crying and shit, so I made my excuses and now I'm sitting down here realizing I might've gone too far. I mean, we're not dating. We might start dating but we've not spoken about it or anything, and yet I've been sitting by his bedside and telling the nurses that I'm his brother? It's a bit much."

Lydia pauses for a minute, musing this over, "Well that sounds like a load of bull." 

"Hey!"

"Stiles, I seem to remember that the reason he's in there is because he couldn't wait till morning to talk to you like a sane person so he walked across town in the middle of the night because you phoned him drunk and said you want to date."

"He lives like ten minutes away," Stiles interrupts. "It's not exactly across town."

"It was four in the morning. Let me tell you Stiles, there is no way I would answer the phone to Jackson at four in the morning, never mind head over to his house to babysit him while he's drunk," Lydia says swiftly. "Look, I'm not getting into this with you. You can do whatever you want with your relationship, but do you want the number of this guy whose looking for a job?" 

"Text it over, please."

He hangs up on Lydia and lets his head slump into his hands. He could head back up to Derek's room, but instead he closes down his laptop and zips up his bag and deciders to head into college. Derek's awake and he can't just use it as an excuse to not do any work anymore. 

#

He stops by Perk on the way into class. Erica's behind the counter, as per usual. 

"Hey there, I've got a surprise for you."

She looks up from the book she's been reading, "Lemmie guess, it's a giant bag of money?"

Stiles rolls his eyes and hands her over a scrap of paper, "This guys’s name is Boyd. He's worked in cafe's before and is willing to start right away. Phone him and organise shifts." 

Erica grabs the piece of paper from his outstretched hand and grins, "God, this is better than a giant bag of money. You are the best, Stiles."

"Please, keep saying that," Stiles smirks. 

"So-" Erica starts, but then stops as the phone starts to ring, "Hold that thought." 

She turns around and grabs the phone from the wall, "Hello, Perk." 

Stiles can't hear who's on the other end of the line, but Erica just rolls her eyes and sighs, "Stiles, it's for you," she says, walking over to hand him the phone. Stiles leans over the countertop and grabs the receiver, pressing it to his ear. 

"Hello?" 

"Stiles, pick up your damn phone." 

It's Laura. Stiles grabs his cell from his jeans and frowns at the screen. There is in fact two missed calls from Laura that he didn't notice. 

"My bad, sorry 'bout that." 

"Look, me and Cora are going out for dinner, so I thought I'd let you know that you're free to visit Derek." 

"Oh," Stiles says, lifting a hand and rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks, uh, I think I'll just leave it tonight though." 

There's a beat of silence, "Stiles, you spent the last day at his comatose bedside. Please don't tell me you're getting cold feet." 

Stiles sighs, "I'm not getting cold feet, I just- everything that's been happening is a lot, y'know? And I don't really know what we are and I don't want to get in the way, y'know? He's been really injured and it feels like it should just be a family thing-"

"God don't let him hear you say that, he'll think you don't want him anymore. Stiles, I'm gonna put it this way, my brother thinks your the fucking shit, okay?" Laura says quickly. "He wants you around Stiles, and if I thought that it should be some sort of 'family' thing while he's getting well again then I would've ratted out out to the nurses when you were pretending to be my younger bro." 

Stiles blinks, "You sure?"

"You're an idiot," she says, her voice fond. "I'm pretty sure that he wants to see you thought.

"Right," Stiles nods mostly to himself, getting to his feet. "I'll... I'll go."

"Talk about your relationship!" Laura says chirpily. "Be adults! Make good choices!"

The line goes dead. 

#

"You are totally into me."

In hindsight, Stiles probably should've said hello first. 

Derek blinks at him, frowning, "What are you on about?" 

Stiles takes a deep breath and pushes aside the curtains, stepping close to his bedside. "You like me! I know it, you came to my house at four am when I was drunk and you let me study at yours and cook me dinner and we have fucking great sex," Stiles doesn't care if the nurses can hear him, he's figured that they must know that he's not their brother by this point, considering the different accent and the fact they look nothing alike. "You like me a lot."

"Uh yeah," Derek says, shuffling slightly and dropping Stiles gaze. "I thought that was obvious." 

Stiles resists the urge to slap him upside the head, and instead sits down next to him. "Obvious? You thought it was fucking obvious? Derek you are the least obvious person, you just mumble things and then expect people to read your mind." 

"You called me when you were drunk!" Derek retorts hotly. "You didn't say anything to me about feeling anything more than friendship, but then suddenly it's three am and I've got two dozen missed calls and a voicemail message where you're talking about wanting to meet my sister-"

Stiles leans forward and quickly, but carefully presses his lips against Derek's. He pulls away, keeping his hands on both sides of Derek’s cheeks, rubbing this thumbs into Derek's skin. "I want you as more than a friend, like a lot, and I can't wait for you to be better so that we can go back to yours and attempt to break your bed.”

"Kiss me again," Derek orders.

Stiles obliges. 

It's overly cautious and chaste but it's what they need. Something meaningful. Something real. 

They stay like that for a few more moments, and then Stiles helps Derek shift over ever so slightly so that he can both fit on the bed. It's probably not allowed but the nurse doesn't come by and throw Stiles out. He rests his head on Derek's shoulder, and holds onto his hand, tracing circles into his skin. 

"I'm not letting you out at night without a fluorescent jacket," Stiles tells him. 

Derek scoffs.

"No joke. Also that black leather one's getting cut up, it's far too dark," Stiles warns him. 

"Whatever you want," Derek says while rolling his eyes, but he's smiling softly. 

Stiles shuffles down in the sheets, pressing a kiss against Derek's shoulder. "Damn right. You're not allowed to scare me like that again, okay?"

"Okay," Derek promises, and Stiles can't believe he got so lucky. "I'm okay with that. I'm not going anywhere." 

"Good," Stiles mumbles, pressing another kiss into Derek's shoulder. "That's good. I'm not going anywhere either." 

Stiles looked up to Derek and gives him another smile, before leaning forward to kiss him once more. Derek's tired, and fragile, but his lips are soft and Stiles just can't get enough of them. 

They eventually pull apart, lying there while Stiles catches Derek up on the few days of news he missed, until he thinks Derek has fallen asleep. 

"I could get used to this," Stiles mumbles, almost asleep himself. "Not... not this, hospital shit, but this... this us."

"Me too," Derek says quietly, tightening the grip he has on Stiles' hand. "I like the sound of that. Of us."

The word us rings through Stiles' head as they lay there on the edge of sleep, happy and content with each other. It feels right, he thinks to himself. They feel right.

#

Fin.