Love Under The Moon

Chapter 87: I Need You

I woke up as Derek finished bandaging the cut on my chest.

"Stiles punched you," I whispered.

"You need to rest."

"I'm fine."

"You are not fine!" He said, emotion thick in his voice, placing a hand to my forehead. "You're not healing!"

"Some take longer..."

He ran his hands through his hair roughly.

"It doesn't matter," I mumbled. "They should've done a better job," I rambled. "They needed... can't make sure the person is dead first. They missed my heart... stupid-  I could've stayed. He wanted me to stay. I didn't... and I..."

"You have a fever," Derek said, getting up.

"I know you're seeing her!" I yelled. "I hate you... I wanted to hurt you... I couldn't though... Erik... you're son he's crying- no... it hurts.... but it's doesn't... not like.. you... you're going to die... not loving me.... If I'm dying... I love you... even if I die."
I rambled, barely conscious, reaching out to Derek who wasn't there.

I fell in and out of consciousness, mumbling things I wouldn't remember in the morning.

I woke up to the sun beaming in and I felt the bandages on my body.

I looked at my hand and saw it was healed and my wounds only felt like a light burning sensation.

What did I say last night in my delirious state?

Derek wasn't in the chair.

I looked and saw he was right next to the bed. He was holding my hand tightly, his forehead resting on my forearm.

I heard him crying, feeling his warm tears on my skin.

I slowly ran my free hand through his hair.

Derek looked up at me as I slowly slid my legs from under the covers.

He quickly tucked my legs back in.

"Derek?" I asked.

He checked my bandages and saw they were scabbed over. He placed a hand on my forehead.

I stared at him.

His eyes were moist with tears as he pulled his hand away.

I already yearned for his warmth again on my skin.

"What did I say?" I whispered.

"It doesn't matter right now. You need to take it easy."

I wanted to know.

"You're crying."

I've never seen him cry.

He rubbed his mouth and shrugged, his shoulders slumping, he look like he hadn't slept for days. His beard had gotten thicker and dark circles under his eyes.

"I don't like seeing you cry," I whispered, gently rested my hand on his cheek. I wanted to kiss his pain away.

He stood up, his hand that rested on my knee leaving me feeling empty and cold.

He started to walk towards the door and I felt my heart jump to my throat, tears filling my eyes, as I quickly sat up.

I didn't want him to go. I just wanted him to stay.

What if this was the last time I see him?

What if he just left and never came back?

What if he was killed today?