Stiles' Inner Demon[Sterek Fanfic]

Chapter 7

It had been an emotional roller coaster for the sheriff. His son was missing and there was no lead but a blotchy blood stain leading into the woods near the accident. Scott had also been on the hunt for Stiles and reassured him that Stiles was going to show up sooner or later, might even by tomorrow. But Officer Stilinski was anxious, he wanted Stiles back and he wanted him back now. The blood in the jeep was a sign that his son was hurt and whoever or whatever took him needed to bring him back home immediately before he really slipped off his rocker. 

There was a buzz coming from his pant pocket, and Officer Stilinski jumped from the sudden movement. He had been in the sitting room, all alone in the dark, thinking of his son constantly. Of course he was furious, but all he wanted was his son back safe and sound. Officer Stilinski answered the call with a man whose hope had been run dry. 

“Hello.”

“Mr. Stilinski,” a woman replied into the receiver. “This is Beacon Hills Hospital, we have your son Stiles Stilinski in one of our emergency rooms. He appeared at our door with a note attached to his shirt with this number and your name. He’s in stable condition, but is on high medication for the gash we had just finished up sewing.”

Officer Stilinski was filled with joy, but his eyes were not agreeing with that emotion. He cried, away from the receiver, happy that his son was finally found. After his moment, he answered the nurse on the other line. 

“I’ll be right in.”

Stiles’ father rushed for his cruiser parked in front of the lawn, and drove like a maniac to the hospital where he met up with the nurse from the phone. She was an intern with long, brown hair and a cute dimple on the left side of her cheek. She led the sobbing officer to the far room of the emergency room, and there Stiles was hooked to an IV line, a heart monitor and a pint of blood that hung against the metal rack. The nurse led him in, then closed the curtain behind her as she left the room. Officer Stilinski took in his son’s condition, and held a hand over his mouth, as to not make loud sobbing noises. He walked to the bedside and placed a hand on Stiles’ cool, soft hand. 

Stiles groaned from the touch, and Officer Stilinski leaned closer to his son’s face. “Stiles? Stiles, my boy, daddy’s here. How are you feeling?” Stiles’ father was a big ball of mess, but he kept his composure as his son opened his eyes and looked around the room like he was being attacked. 

“Where is he?” Stiles shouted, looking around the room, then noticing his father beside him. “Dad . . .”

“Stiles.” They looked into each others eyes, and the officer leaned down and held his son in his arm, a tight hug that made Stiles groan, again. “Sorry,” he apologized. 

“It’s nothing dad, just a few sprained bones. I’m cool.” Stiles looked around the room like he was looking for something. Officer Stilinski analyzed the sewn gash on Stiles’ forehead. 

“Are you feeling alright, son?”

“Peachy.”

“Guess the crash didn’t stem you away from your sarcasm, now did it?” the officer finally smiled, after three days of no lead. 

“Nope.” Stiles looked over the room one last time before drooping back into bed and sighing. 

“What seems to be the problem there bud?”

“Nothing, dad.”

“Something has you beat.” Officer Stilinski stroked his son’s head.

“Just tired, I guess.” But there was indeed something that had Stiles beat. Was being in Derek’s room just a dream? But it seemed so real! Stiles could’ve sworn he smelt like the sour werewolf, but maybe it was the highly induced medication that had him feeling loopy and a little senile. 

“Dad, can I ask you a question?”

Officer Stilinski nodded. 

“How long have I been in here?” Stiles asked. If he was here for more than two days, the dream of Derek was just an unreal fantasy but if it wasn’t then throwing himself at Derek was even more real, and a light blush of pink rose up into his cheeks. 

“The nurse said she found you outside of the emergency today.”

So it wasn’t a dream . . . Stiles still groaned in distress. 

“Is anything hurt, son?”

“Just my pride,” he whispered, reminiscing about the memory of practically throwing himself at Derek, and how Derek slyly sent him into a state of unconsciousness by using his injury against him. How was he ever going to show his face at the Hale house, again? Stiles thought that he was the biggest idiot in the world, and how stupid he was to be so --- so --- so fangirl crazy for Derek!

Officer Stilinski had questioned Stiles of his whereabouts for the past few days and Stiles made a funny remark that he had gotten lost on the way to the hospital, which his father did not laugh at. Officer Stilinski stayed with Stiles until the visiting hours were up and he had to go home. He gave his son a firm kiss on the unaffected side of his forehead and said goodbye. 

After his father left, Stiles couldn’t help but think about Derek. He was finally all alone inside of his head, the demon in his mind had all but disappeared. 

“How stupid could I have been?” Stiles whispered to himself. 

“Very,” a dark voice appeared, but before making any conclusions, the voice wasn’t his demons and it wasn’t his father’s. There in the corner of the room, a hand appeared from inside the curtain and pushed it back, in slipped Derek with a grin on his face. Stiles suddenly grew outraged and threw a pillow at Derek, who had caught it with just a flick of his wrist. He walked into the room cooly, playing as if he didn’t want Stiles at some point when they were alone together inside of his bedroom. 

“I’m about a second close on pushing the nurse’s button,” Stiles threatened, not once leaving Derek’s piercing eyes. Derek just grinned and tossed the pillow in his hands. 

“Looks like they did a better job than I did on your forehead,” said Derek, starting conversation. “Sorry about making you pass out,” he apologized. Although Stiles was very angry, there was a sort of sincerity that Stiles just couldn’t be mad about. 

“Why’d you do it in the first place? To save you or me?”

“I think it’s obvious, don’t you think?” Derek grinned, using Stiles exact words from last night. He threw the pillow back to Stiles, and Stiles placed it behind his back. 

“Nope.” Stiles crossed his arms around his chest. 

Derek sighed. “Fine, it was to save the both of us.” This intrigued Stiles, how were they saving each other . . . from each other?

“Stiles, I’m going to be brutally honest with you . . . Until ---”

“Of course, a catch,” Stiles butted in. “Until?”

“Until you answer me this question: why are you in love with me?” And that was the question on everyone’s mind, and one Stiles hoped Derek would have forgotten. Derek was at Stiles’ side, playing around with the plastic tubes on the machines and pressing buttons that made beeping noises. Stiles didn’t know how to answer --- truthfully, he just didn’t want to. Derek brushed Stiles’ cheek.

Stiles’ heart monitor went haywire; he unplugged it from his chest so the nurse wouldn’t disturb him and to keep Derek from laughing but it was too late. 

“It seems like I’m turning you on,” he grinned. “But that still doesn’t answer my question.”