The first time there was no light except the still there imprint of blue, purple and white against my eyelids like bolts of lightning striking through the sky. But there was sound. A continuous buzzing like static. A constant thrum. But that was all. It was different though. No longer just the deep silence that just was. Then it was gone again and I was left with the lightning scars in the deep black sky.
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The second time there was again just the lightning, the darkness and I. All bound together like one singular being. The thrum was reseeding in the distance, forming actual sounds. A steady beeping, soft and monotone. A more sporadic mumbling. "-yet I can't seam to find the caus-". "-up eventua-". "-iles please wak-". Then silence, leaving me with jagged bolts of light and the abyss.
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The third and final time was welcomed as the bolts fizzled out of my eyelids and I was left in the darkness for a few long moments. I needed to... I needed to. Open. The world was burning white. Scorching my eyes out of their sockets so I slammed them closed again and let out a pained groan. My throat as dry as the Sahara, sand cutting down my oesophagus. The beeping was still there but the mumbling was defined words. "Scott! Scott he is awake! Get Deaton!", a deep calming voice, a nice loving voice, a friendly voice. Derek. My mate. I try to blink my eyes open again and let out another groan of protest. Still too bright. Again. Brightness is dimming but it is still as if glaring into the hot filament of a light bulb.
Another groan and then there is a soft, cool hand pressing against my forehead and some of the burning in my eyes fades. This time when I blink open my eyes I am able to see a hazy figure bloom into existence. I have to squint but I see a strong set jaw. A long and surprisingly delicate nose. My vision sharpens. Dark rough stubble. Darker inky jostled hair. A small careful smile. A beautiful set of twinkling eyes all hazel and green and blue with swimming flecks of red. Derek. My Derek. "Der?", I manage to croak out the word, voice scratchy and rough. "Shhhhh", he strokes my hair down and reaches over to my side. His hand comes back into view holding a cup of water with ice chips floating about in it.
He helps me sip at the water, carefully tipping the cup so the cooling liquid comes in small sips to my dry mouth and slides down my aching throat. I am taking another sip to drain the cup as Deaton walks in an anxious Scott stopping when the older man tells him to in the door way and giving me a small smile before turning away probably to go to the pack, wherever they are. "Ah Stiles, How are you feeling?", he has on his detached professional tone. Or is that just his 'I am a weird cryptic wierdo who loves to give you complexes by challenging your ability to deal with mental strain through supplying riddles and cryptic messages' tone. Stiles could never tell.
"Like shit", I manage to croak out a response, "What the hell happened?". Deaton huffs and I don't know if that was meant to be in frustration or if he trying not to chuckle. Again it was always hard to tell with the man. "Well Stiles, isn't that the question that we all wish to know the answer to". I frown, again with the cryptic bullshit. I am feeling too fuzzy headed for this crap. I whine slightly in discomfort as I try to shift. God why does EVERYTHING ache. Derek slips his hand to the back of my neck and starts pulling pain from this different area causing me to sag more into his grip. "Come on Deaton, he obviously isn't up to this right now, give him a check up. These questions can wait for a little longer, the pack want to see him to make sure he is okay". Deaton just nods and approaches the bed.
The bed that I am in. Bed, so not the metal slabs at the vets. Thank God. Bed. Soft sheets. Large mattress. Familiar cream and brown walls. Derek's room. My room. Our room. I let out a sigh of relieve. No vets, no hospitals, God I hate them. Deaton brings practiced hands to the knot in the sling abound my shoulder and undoes it. The fabric falls away and my shoulder is exposed. Well good to know the only thing covering my upper body is a sling. "So Stiles", Deaton begins as he prods slightly at my shoulder causing me to hiss and stare accusingly at where it has left a paler patch on a deep bruise. "I am afraid to say you may be in pain for a while. When you passed out you fell on your shoulder here", he waves an almost uninterested hand at my bruised shoulder and then brings it up to motion at my head, "You dislocated the joint and also gave yourself quite the nasty head wound". Yay for me.
He gives the shoulder a quick inspection while I nod my head and then 'harrumphs' before untying and whipping at my head wound, giving it a small inspection, letting out a pleased noise and then wrapping it back up again. "The shoulder is going to hurt like a bitch for some time", I blink a little at this comment. "But the head wound is staring to clear up nicely". He delivers the news as if announcing to a five year-old that they are going to Disney Land and all I can do is nod my head. Which... Owwwwww. He turns to Derek. "Make sure to keep him hydrated and try to make him eat some sort of food, soup will do but he may be sick the first few times. If he is let him be but is it continues for more than three days call me immediately. Get Scott or Isaac to change the bandages and keep an eye on the shoulder. He should remain in this bed for the remainder of the day and tonight but as long as he is helped he may stay within the rest of the house for the next week or so. Apart from that I will come and check up on you all in about a week. I have to acquire and look at some texts that I believe could help us work out whatever happened".
Derek nods his head in understanding and then gets up off the bed to shake Deaton's hand, which all seams awful formal if you ask me. "Thank you Dr Deaton", Ughhh this is odd. "My pleasure Alpha Hale". And then, just like that Deaton is out the door and there is a long moment of silence before Derek turns back to the bed and smiles at me again. "Are... Are the pack okay?", I ask to break the silence. Derek nods, "Yeah, they are all good, got healed up completely by the time we got you back here and had phoned Deaton. They all want to see you if that is okay?", he finished waking the short distance to the bed and bent down slightly. "They do? Even after we have no idea what happened? Derek, I swear there was some sort of lights. I felt like I exploded! What the hell happened!". Derek sat down on the bed and reached over to place a kiss on my temple.
"We don't know Stiles. One minute you where standing there clenching your fists and the next you where surrounded by all these sparks and what looked like bolts of lightning and you where muttering all this stuff under your breath. It was amazing, and then there was this giant flash that came from somewhere on you and the merman just kind of crumbled to dust. But you where okay, just standing there and then...", his voice cracks, "Then you started to sway and you just fell and wouldn't wake up. I thought... I thought I had lost you too". A tear slipped down Derek's cheek and I felt terrible. I had made him feel this way. I had made him worry. I had made his feelings of loss come forward when I was meant to push them away. I always failed at the things that I was meant to do.
Derek's hand came up and caressed my cheek. "I'm sorry", I whispered. I know it won't help. How will I ever be able to apologise for all that I have done wrong. I have done so much wrong. "Shhhh, shhhh. You never have to apologise Stiles. You are awake now and that is all that matters. You have never done anything that means you have to apologise. You saved me, you saved our pack. We don't deserve your selflessness. Especially after everything that we did to you". I give him a small smile and then can feel the confused expression cover my face. "Wait, what do you mean I'm 'awake now'. How long was I out?", panic started to seep into my bones and flood in my chest at the emotionally constipated expression on Derek's beautiful features. "Just coming up for six days", Derek murmured. "Six days!", I honestly didn't mean to sound so incredulous but my tired voice obviously was not with the programme.
Derek was away to say something but there was a timid knock at the door and he instead set another kiss on my forehead before getting up and opening the door a crack. There was mumbling from behind the wood that my weak human ears could not hear and them Derek turned to me in question, "Can the pups see you?", Someone had managed to use their foot to jam the door a little more and Isaac's puppy dog face appeared peeking shyly around the frame of the door about level with Derek's torso. I smiled at him, "Ummm... I mean sure". So Derek stepped out of the way and let the puppies all bound into the room.
After saying "Yeah, I'm fine" and "Yeah, I'm good" about one hundred times I was getting exhausted and just sat back in Derek's arms letting the chatter of the rest of the pack flow over me. That's how I fall back to sleep. Rested in Derek's lap with the sound of my pack surrounding me. Before darkness takes me again I feel a short pressure on my head as Derek sets a kiss on my temple and can't help but smile slightly. Safe.
A/N -
Hello Readers,
Well here it is, the first chapter of the second book in the plaid shirts series! I hope you enjoyed it and are ready for some interesting events to happen.
Happy Reading,
Shadow xx
YOU ARE READING
Sparks, Flowers and Plaid Shirts (Book Two in the 'Plaid Shirts' series)
FanfictionWhat happened to Stiles? What happened to his pack? After the world exploded into blue, purple and white lights what has happened to everything that Stiles thought was true? Here is the second instalment in the 'Plaid Shirts' series.
