Wake Up. Please. (Sterek OneShot)

Wake Up. Please.

He knows they were too late when they barged into the room and he sees Braeden hovering on top of Derek.

Lydia screams, which made Stiles' heart pound louder than it already has been. Scott growled so loud that it was almost painful. They both stopped midway, afraid that if they move any further they'll lose it. But Stiles didn't stop. Instead he moved faster, practically running towards Derek.

"Move." he says bitterly, slightly pushing Braeden out of the way, taking her place. Braeden was too numb to protest.

Behind them, the rest of the pack arrived but Stiles didn't pay attention to them. He can hear Malia asking what happened, and Kira moving towards Scott but Stiles ignored them. He only focused on whatever inside him that usually wills Derek back to life. He was looking for the spark, as Deaton would say it.

He knows he is something more. Ever since the mountain ash and up to the time he was able to control Malia's transformation. He knew it. He's also sure that Derek knows something too; by the way he looked at Stiles the second time he had to wake him up or that one time Derek has asked him to hold Scott, a werewolf down so he can tattoo him. Why would Derek ask him to do that if he think Stiles’ is just a useless, weak human?

Stiles knows that if he wills something hard enough, it can happen. But even though he knows he might be able to do it, he can't help but tremble. He fights the tears that are urging to flow down his cheeks and focused on Derek's lifeless body.

"Derek." he whispers, slightly stroking Derek's cheeks.

Stiles closed his eyes and held on tightly onto Derek's chest for support. "Derek"

Still nothing. "Derek come on” He says a little louder, shaking him at the same time.

After a few gentler shaking, he screams and slaps him. "Come on, Derek! Wake up!" He says a little hysterical.

"What are you doing?!" Braden screams, trying to pull Stiles' off Derek.

"Don’t touch me!" Stiles screams. The sudden force sent Braeden crashing on to the other side of the room. Everyone gasped and stared in shock, including Stiles. But Stiles’ didn’t want to waste a even a minute to give them an explanation, he can do that later with Derek, who can probably explain it better than he can. Yes, Derek, will live. He will, Stiles knows it.

Ignoring everyone's stares, he turned back to Derek. "Derek!" Slapping him. "Come on big guy! I know you're in there" Slapping him again.

He kept doing it over and over again, each call for Derek becoming more desperate and hysterical. His punches becoming more frantic but soon just stopped on Derek's chest. He was sobbing, tears soaking Derek's chest. He stayed on top of Derek's lifeless body until Scott comes and pulls him. However, before Scott can move him any further away, Stiles grabbed Derek's hand, closed his eyes and opened them. Eyes filled with determination, glistening with tears and hope he whispers. "Derek, please, wake up. For me."

Everyone held their breath for a minute before Scott finally drags Stiles to the couch. Derek, on the floor, remained lifeless.

Stiles felt guilty and somewhat empty. Derek and him didn’t get along at the beginning but they have a mutual understanding that when something happens to the other one, the other one is supposed to save them. It was a silent agreement that both of them somehow promised each other. And so what if Stiles hopelessly fell in love with Derek and that’s why he has been ignoring him for the past month? It doesn’t matter now because Derek Hale is dead. He is dead because he wasn’t strong enough to save him. He should’ve been there for Derek the moment he found out Derek’s name was the password. Should’ve been on his side. Yeah, he’s human but he would’ve been able to stall them, whoever fucking did this to Derek. Oh god. He could’ve protected Derek but he didn’t because he was selfish and an idiot for thinking that ignoring Derek and sleeping with Malia can erase all the feelings he has for Derek. Now, it’s too late. It’s too late to fix anything.

While Stiles cry and remain silent, feeling utterly useless, the Derek that is still buried in Mexico, gasped, eyes widening.