Hunger

Chapter Eight

Stiles

I started out laying on a cold, metal table. I couldn't speak, see, or move. I was being held down by something. I wanted to scream out for help, but there was no point. No one was around. Just as I started to hear footsteps, someone appeared next to me. I couldn't see who, but only because my head was strapped down to the table. My vision had miraculously returned and I could mumble through the cloth in my mouth. 

"Close your eyes, Stiles," he said against my ear. His voice was low and raspy, but it was comforting. I felt safe when his arms wrapped around me. They were strong, and I felt like nothing could touch me. Nothing could get past him. He was my protection. His arms being around me felt like I'd never have to worry again.

"Derek," I whispered, reaching for him only to find my hands strapped to the table as well. "Help." It sounded like a sob, but I was actually happy right now. I was happy because Derek cared enough to be here, to help me. 

"Close them," he ordered. I did as he said and squeezed my eyes shut. I felt a cool breeze blow across my skin, making goosebumps rise on my body. "Now look again." His lips stayed close to my ear, making me shiver.

When I opened my eyes, we were in my bed. Derek was still beside me, his arm securely holding me against him. I could move every part of my body. "Thank you," I said softly, turning to see his face. I gasped when I saw him. Blood stained the sides of his head, bandages on his temples. His nose was bleeding too. "What happened to you?" I carefully touched his face. 

Derek smiled. "You know I'd take a bullet for you anytime. This was no different. I was tortured so you didn't have to be."  He looked so sincere, I couldn't question that. I couldn't ask why he would take a bullet for me. Why would he care so much?

"You didn't deserve that." Derek didn't deserve something that was meant for me. He wasn't supposed to get hurt. 

"Neither did you," Derek replied softly as he pushed my hair back with his hand.  "I'd rather it be me. I heal faster." He was right, even though it pained me to admit that. I didn't understand

I nodded as if I understood, but I didn't. I didn't understand why he would want to protect me so badly. I shrugged and cuddled his side closely. I could feel myself slowly fading, like I was about to wake up. Derek gently kissed my forehead.

I woke up with a gasp, but then confusion hit me. I looked down at the bare chest I was laying on and bit my lip softly. I was starting to sense a pattern here. Every time I fell asleep with Derek, I dreamed about him instead of the nightmare. It's not like I hated dreaming about Derek, but it confused the shit out of me. Was I supposed to have feelings for him, or was it just the fact we're spending too much time together. 

I carefully tried to wiggle my way out from underneath his arm, but it woke him up anyways. He immediately lifted his arm and I rolled over beside him. "Good morning," I mumbled. I probably had morning breath, but I didn't really care. I knew my hair looked ridiculous. It was probably sticking up in eight different directions. 

Derek sighed as he stared at the ceiling. "Are you still mad at me?" He didn't look at me, just closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. I shouldn't have even been mad yesterday, but I was dramatic, so I was. Stupid, I know. But at least this morning I wasn't upset anymore. Even when I thought about why I was mad, I didn't get upset again.