"Okay, breathe Derek" he thought to himself, "see a psychic?", what had Stiles meant with that? Was his fiancé losing his mind?
The wooden door made a quiet sound as he leaned against it. Derek slowly slid down and folded his hands.
"Stiles, I'm not taking you to a psychic" Derek said calm through the door. "Im serious Derek!" Stiles pounded on the door like he wanted to get out.
"Please, just open the door" Derek breathed, "you don't get it..."
"Oh but I do"
The most disturbing of it all, was that Stiles was quiet. "Are you okay in there?" Derek tried to reach out to him again.
No response. Derek found himself suddenly regretting all the times he had ever barked at him to shut up.
Something was wrong with the sarcastic and hyperactive spaz he was in love with.
"Fine, we'll do it your way, stay in their as long as you want, I've got all day" Derek finally broke the silence.
A week later
Stiles behavior hadn't changed the last week. He was awfully quiet, and he vomited all the time.
"That's it, I'm taking you to the doctor!" Derek finally said as he comforted the boy who was bending over the toilet vomiting.
"No Derek, I'm fine", but Derek didn't listen, Stiles had said those words all week, I'm fine, I promise.
Derek practically dragged Stiles to the doctor's office the day after.
Derek hadn't been allowed into the examine room, he wondered why.
And he also wondered why Stiles got sick, a werewolf never got sick.
Finally, the doctor came out of the examine room with his head in his paper.
"I need you to sign this Mr. Hale" the doctor said strict as he didn't care.
"Why? What's going on?"
"We just found something abnormal on Stiles head CT, we just need to run som test to make sure it's benign"
"What it?" Derek asked worried, the doctor's eyes looked calm.
"A tumor"
