Psycho Loving [Teen Wolf/Sterek]

Part 15

♚ Derek ♚

When he jerked awake, blearily taking in the pack of teenagers around him, Derek immediately turned to Stiles. His body was still tied to the chair, slumped, unconscious. Kira was kneeling a few feet in front of him, eyes yellow. At least she was attentive and took her job seriously. Deucalion was leaning against the kitchen counter, flanked by the twins who were perched on the countertop. They all looked distracted. 

Derek stumbled up out of his own chair, jerking Scotts claws from his neck as the teen struggled awake as well.

"Why isn't he awake yet, what's happening?" Derek shot at Deucalion, falling to his knees next to Kira.

The demon wolf responded in a lazy drawl, like he didn't really care. "You just woke up. I'd guess he's probably still busy."

"How long will it take?" Scott groaned, shaking his head to wake himself up. He circled around the chair as well, peering at Stiles' body. He glanced at Kira. "You okay?"

She smiled tightly. "I'm fine yeah."

"It depends how long he takes to defeat the creature.... if he even does."

"He will." Derek said assertively. He settled down on his heels watching Stiles in the silent manner of a wolf studying something new.

He knew that Stiles would wake up, because he'd seen his eyes. When Stiles had seen Scott and him, his eyes had looked blank and empty. So voice of any hope.

But when they left, Derek had seen the flame. That stupid defiance and steel the boy had always had. The same stubbornness that got him into all sorts of trouble would now save him.

Scott moved away from their chairs, but Derek stayed still next to Kira. Watching. Waiting.

Stiles had to know he was there when he woke up. He'd be disoriented, confused. Derek had to be there.

Nearly an hour passed.

Scott ended up on the ground, Kira leaning on his shoulder in exhaustion from the day. Everyone seemed out of it, but Derek was attentive, so the moment that Stiles' body convulsed he was up.

Stiles' back arched as his muscles spasmed, legs kicking, arms straining against the ropes binding him. All at once huge coughs began to wrack his lungs, painful gags. Choking.

"Stiles!" Derek was by his side trying to control his body from breaking something as it twisted into unnatural positions, writhing.

Scott and Kira were fully awake now, Deucalion and the twins crowding in as Stiles began to choke on empty air.

He wasn't breathing.

His body was searching for air that wasn't being provided; the demon was cutting off his body as a war raged in his mind.

"Stiles," Derek begged, trying to hold him still, trying to will him to breathe. The teen couldn't be losing. Was he suffering? Was he okay? Derek felt the air leaving his lungs as well- if Stiles wasn't breathing, he couldn't breathe either. Physically couldn't, due to the overwhelming panic.

Stiles had to win, had to win, had to win-

Because it was Stiles. Stiles didn't lose; well, he did, quite often actually, but it was in a way that it was never a true loss. His spirit made up for that, his nurturing, optimistic spirit. That was why Derek liked him so much-

That spirit was being crushed out of him, and that caused Derek's own heart to feel like it was being squeezed, tighter and tighter...

All at once Stiles was coughing.