Crazy About You...Literally (AU Teen Wolf Story)

twelve.

Stiles wakes up soon after, surrounded by the four walls of the hospital room. They're blinding and even more painful to look at than before. He attempts to sit up, but his body stumbles back, his hands slipping against the fabric and he slides to rest on his elbows. Ethan is dozing off in a bedside chair, Danny, who is also asleep, his head safely nestled in the crook of his neck, snoring loudly. Stiles clears his throat, trying to get their attention. He remembers why he's here, he had some sort of a panic attack after Lydia promised to help with the voices. It was scary- and it still is- but Lydia said it could be side effects of Zoloft. The panic attack probably is, as well.

Ethan is the first to wake up, which jostles Danny, and then Stiles is in both of their arms, wrapped in how-are-you's and worries and relief. Stiles spits out that he's choking and needs air, which repels them immediately. Ethan is on the edge of Stiles's bed, and Danny is on his lap, blushing. I was disregards it, though, knowing that they don't want to talk about their possible relationship, but, most likely, about him, instead.

"What happened?" Ethan asks, gently laying the hand that isn't wrapped around Danny on the boy's knee.

"I think I had a panic attack," Stiles says, "but I'm not sure."

"You're okay, though, right? Like, you feel fine right now?" Ethan presses, squeezing Stiles' knee for emphasis.

"Yeah... yeah I'm fine," Stiles mutters, playing with his hands. "So...uh, is there... you know... any process with Derek yet?"

"As far as we know, not yet," Ethan says, "but then again, it's six o'clock in the morning; if there has been any progress, no one's gonna be in a rush to wake all of us up just to tell."

Danny squirms on the boy's lap, pivoting his body so he can nuzzle into Ethan's collarbone. Ethan's grip visibly tightens around the boy's slim frame. Stiles meets the boy's eyes, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh, fuck off, Stiles," Ethan murmurs, jokingly, resting his nose in Danny's hair.

"You guys should get some sleep in your own rooms. I can't imagine those chairs being comfortable. I'll be fine here by myself." Stiles suggests.

"Are you sure?" Ethan asks, running his hand that used to be on Stiles' knees through Danny's hair. "We don't mind staying if you want."

"No," the boy insists. "Go. I've got the heart monitor to keep me company... Speaking of which, how is he sleeping with that on?" Stiles nods his head to the snoring Danny wrapped in Ethan's arms.

Ethan smiles and shrugs, gazing down at the closed eyes of the boy.

"So... uhm," Stiles fumbles over how to word the question. "Are you guys... you know, dating? And stuff?"

Ethan shakes his head. "I'd like to think he wants to, though... but it isn't official or anything... we've kissed though. If that counts for anything."

Stiles smiles, waving Ethan away. "Figure it out in the morning, will you? I want to sleep right now."

"Sure you don't want me to stay down here? To have someone to talk to or whatever?" Ethan asks, faced etched with genuine concern.

"I'm positive."

Without another word, Ethan manages to get a formerly- asleep, now-groggy-but-awake Danny standing and out the door, leaving Stiles alone with his own mind, which soon fills with a single, echoing voice that says more than the boy can handle.

"So...where's Derek?"

That gets Stiles sobbing, his heart monitor's rhythmic beat turned into an inconsistent, dissonant melody of annoyance that alarms the doctors. Said doctors come rushing into the room to find the boy crying. They try to get him to explain or stop or anything, really, but he bawls on, repeating the same word over and over.