Things We Never Saw Coming

Grateful

Monday, 12am

“I’m sorry you had to find out about things the way you did. It wasn’t what I wanted.” Derek’s eyes followed Stiles’ every movement, as if Stiles was some kind of wounded animal that still had the instinct to lash out and fight. Funny, coming from him.

Stiles tried to smile, but he couldn’t force himself to. The shock of everything that had happened had finally hit him. His chest felt tight, like he was going into a panic attack. He took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down, but it was no good. “The claw marks in your dash were kind of a giveaway,” he managed, cupping his head in his hands. “W-when were you bitten? Have you been like this for… for a long time?”

“I’ve been like this my whole life,” Derek said slowly as Stiles tried to force himself to breath evenly. “It’s hereditary. Stiles, are you okay?” He reached out and touched Stiles’ knee.

Stiles focused on the warmth of Derek’s hand. He took a few deep breaths, gulping in the air like he’d been starved of it. “I’m fine,” he finally managed. “Really. We should get out of here,” he added. “It’s really not safe for us to stay.”

Derek grunted. “My place is off-limits,” he said. “I live too close to the pack. If the people who tried to kill me tracked us here, I can’t risk leading them back to my apartment.”

“Wait, people?” Stiles yelped. “There was just one shooter.”

Derek raised his thick eyebrows at Stiles. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were the one with heightened senses,” he said in a voice that was completely serious. He motioned for Stiles to continue. “Please, do explain.”

Stiles felt the overwhelming desire to punch Derek in his arm where he’d been shot. Repeatedly. “Okay, smartass,” he grumbled. “Why do you say there was more than one shooter?”

Derek’s eyebrows went up a little more. They’d have to send out a search party if he raised them any further. “I could smell them,” he replied. “There were two of them.” He shifted uncomfortably and dropped his gaze. “Come on, we should get going. Is your place safe?”

Stiles nodded as he pushed himself to his feet. He’d cleaned up the clinic to the best of his abilities, but Stiles had never been much of a neat freak. “Yeah, Scott’s staying at Allison’s for a couple of days.” He didn’t say anything else—what else was there to say really?—as they returned to Derek’s car. Derek slid wordlessly into the passenger’s seat, wincing as his arm grazed against the side of the car. His eyes never left Stiles, though. Stiles felt the pressure of Derek’s gaze on him as he backed the car out of the parking lot, as he navigated the quiet roads, as he turned onto the road where his apartment was.

“Will you stop that?” Stiles finally said as he pulled into the parking lot. “You’re staring, and it’s kind of creepy.”

Derek frowned. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I just… I can’t express myself very clearly. But I want you to know that I am… grateful for your friendship. And for what you did back at the club and at the clinic.”