You Know What That Was For! (A STRREK Fanficiton)

Chapter 27

Stiles' POV

I feel pressure on my forehead and I startle awake to find Peter hovering over me, checking me over. He brings a finger to his lips to signal for me to be quiet and nods to my left, I turn to see Derek, he's lying flat on his stomach, hair tousled out of control and eyes firmly shut as he snores softly into the pillow. He's got stubble where he's neglected to shave and his foot is pressed firmly against my foreleg like he's reassuring me that he's not gone anywhere. Peter taps my head very gently to get me to lean forward so that he can inspect the cut, his fingers poke around the area very softly and then he's offering a glass of water and some paracetamol to me. I take both as there is a slight ache in my head that's warning me of an upcoming headache. Peter waits for me to swallow the tablet and have a good drink of the water before offering a small smile and leaving the room, casting a look over towards his nephew as he does so. It's Saturday, but not just any Saturday. Today is the anniversary of my moms death. I sigh heavily to myself and slide out of bed. I'm still in the pyjamas that Derek bought to the hospital and lacking the energy to change I go straight downstairs.

"You're up!" Peter beams at me from the kitchen. "Breakfast?" He asks, holding up his wooden spoon.

"I'm not very hungry" I say and disappear towards Derek's study. I don't think he will mind me being in here on my own, someone has cleaned up in here since the last time and I settle into the rug in front of the burning fire. Who even keeps this thing going? What a waste of money that must be. But I do like it. I lean across and grab the blanket and a cushion from the couch and lay down, enveloping myself in the blanket like it's a shield and maybe today it is.

"I miss you mom."

...

"He's not eaten all day Derek, he's been cooped up in here since he got up. I'm worried!" Peter's voice travels through the door and I sigh softly to myself. It's nearly six o'clock and I've not seen anyone all day, which is weird because I can feel Derek's anxiety at being away from me.

"Just leave it with me." Comes my mates reply, dominant and decisive.

"But-"

"Leave it Uncle Peter, please?" I find myself smiling at Derek's words. It's very rare that he calls him Uncle and lately it's been happening more and more. I hear footsteps walking away and assume that Peter has done as he's been asked and then there's a soft knock on the door and Derek's head pops in.

"Stiles, can I come in?" His voice is soft, quiet, like he's speaking to a wounded animal or a frightened child.

"It's your study" I snort, waving him in and he does so, carrying a plate of food in his hand, no doubt forced onto him by his uncle.

"I think, since we're- what did you call it? Werewolf engaged- then what's mine is yours. So it's actually our study." I can't help the smile that slips onto my face at his words, Derek always knows exactly the right thing to say. "Will you try and eat something?" He asks, moving to sit down next to me as I sit up, crossing my legs. I smell sweaty, I can smell it on myself, but Derek doesn't say anything, he merely offers the plate of food by waving it in front of my face. There are little sausage rolls and quavers, some ham and cheese sandwiches with no crusts and cut into triangles and some purple and green grapes. It's food that I can pick at, rather than being faced with a large plate of lasagne or something which would put me off altogether. But I am hungry. So I take a sausage roll and take a small bite. Derek watches me and grunts with approval, putting the plate on the floor in front of me. "Do you want to be alone?" He asks, but there's no anger in his voice, no hurt, just concern. I shake my head no.

"Not anymore, I think... I think I'd like some cuddles?" It was supposed to be a statement but it comes out more of a question and Derek reaches out and runs his hands down my thighs soothingly.