When Stiles opened his eyes Scott was standing over him. His head was rested in Lydia's lap and she was stroking his hair. Stiles groaned as he tried to sit up.

"No Stiles, just lay there." Lydia spoke softly and calmly. "How are you feeling?"

Ignoring Lydia's advice, he sat up and rubbed his head. "Like an alpha werewolf threw me into a locker."

"He's fine." Scott laughed at his best friend, and offered him a hand to stand up. He pulled Stiles to his feet, grabbing him around the waist quickly before he over balanced and fell.

"Ahh, ribs!" He gestured to his side where Scott hung on. Scott quickly readjusted his grip.

"Sorry man."

Scott supported his left and Isaac his right as they headed for the parking lot. People looked as they passed. Stiles was pretty sure his ribs were broken, his t-shirt was ripped and blood was oozing from the claw marks under his shirt. Stiles explained what had happened, feeling light headed and aches, but kept it to himself.

When they reached the parking lot, Erica, Boyd and Derek were standing there. Erica ran over, taking Isaacs place, plastering Stiles cheek with kisses. Derek was leant against his Camaro, but as soon as he saw Stiles he stormed over.

"What the hell happened to him?" Derek's eyes flashed red, but were filled with worry.

"Aw, are you worried about me sour wolf?" Stiles was caved over in pain as he tried to laugh, his body shook violently. Scott began explaining what had happened to Derek and the others.

"I thought I told you to stay with him!"

"Well he ran out of the classroom and we lost him." Scott tried to explain.

"Yeah, my bad." Stiles began coughing, and blood began to run from the corner of his mouth.

"Put him in my car, I'm taking him to Deaton." Derek slammed the door shut, and as soon as Stiles was in the car he began driving.

"What were you thinking Stiles?! You could've been killed!" Derek sounded concerned, more than Stiles had ever heard from him.

"Your puppies were driving me crazy, I had to get some space." Stiles screwed his face up and groaned, grabbing onto the claw marks on his ribs. Feeling the blood run down onto the seats of the expensive car. Derek looked over as Stiles fearfully, before putting his foot on the pedal and speeding up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Will he be okay?" Allison asked as the pack surrounded the bench Stiles had occupied.

"His shoulder was dislocated, his ribs are broken and the scratches are quite deep, but other than that and a mild concussion, he'll heal up nicely." Deaton spoke in a deep comfortable tone, calming everyone's nerves.

Over time, the members of the pack began to leave, heading home. The girls kissed Stiles on the cheek or forehead, and the boys tapped him on the shoulder. Soon Stiles was left alone with Derek and Deaton, slipping in and out of consciousness.

He woke at what he thought would've been around 5. Across the room he could hear Deaton and Derek in a deep whispered conversation. He could just hear what they were saying.

"Derek, I didn't want to worry the pack, but the scratches are very deep. If the scratches are deep enough... there's a possibility-"

"You're saying he could turn?" Derek finished angrily. He paced across the room.

"Well yes, there is a chance." Derek's hands shot to his head where he gripped his hair furiously.

"Then you wouldn't be able to have an issue with me being human." Stiles shot at Derek. His head ached and his side was burning.

"Stiles, how are you feeling?" Deaton replied, as Derek opened his mouth to retort.

Stiles sat up on the edge of his bed, resting his head on one palm while using the other one to steady his swaying body. "Yeah, not wonderful, but I'm fine." He looked up at Derek, "Will you take me home?"

Derek nodded once, then helped Stiles to the car.

"Stay out of trouble, and I suggest staying in bed for a few days." Deaton called after them.

"Thank you, Deaton." Stiles said, sticking the thumbs up.

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Once they had filled Stiles dad I'm on the whole situation, they had headed to bed. Stiles didn't feel like eating, and Derek wasn't one to complain. Derek had set himself up on the mattress on the floor, like Scott had done the previous night.

"I'm sorry about your car seats." Stiles apologised, remembering the blood seeping onto them.

"It's fine, I can clean them."

"Okay." They sat in silence watching Star Wars on Stiles' television, and when the credits began to roll Derek turned off the lights and they laid in bed. Derek's back was turned toward Stiles. Stiles thought back to what the alpha had said. He was sure he was delusional, Derek doesn't care for anyone.

"Derek?"

"What."

"The alpha said something to me, before, you know, the rest of the pack came in."

Derek rolled over to face Stiles, curiosity now coming over his face. He furrowed his eyebrows, as to say 'go on'.

"He said he could see why you cared for me." Stiles looked down at his bedsheets.

"You're part of my pack, I care for you the same way as I care for Scott." Derek looked away as he said this, looking anywhere except at Stiles.

"Oh, yeah sure." Stiles heart sunk a little at this. He wasn't sure why. He rolled over, turning his back away from Derek, he was tired, that was all.

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Stiles tossed and turned in his sleep. Keeping Derek awake. He spoke and moaned. Derek lay awake for hours, until Stiles sat up yelling. Derek sat up also, he could see Stiles sweat and hear his heart beat risen. Stiles turned to look at Derek.

"Sorry," he began blushing with embarrassment. "Nightmares."

Derek shook his head slightly. "No, no. It's okay."

Yawning, Stiles laid back down. "You know, you don't have to sleep on the floor. You can share the bed." Stiles pulled the blankets over him and laid still for a few minutes before adding, "please."

Derek, being surprised didn't move for a moment. But then slowly stood and walked over to the bed. He then slid in and pulled the covers over him. Feeling Stiles bare back against his, as the bed was definitely not made for two people.