Fic - Helping Hands (PG-13)
Title - Helping Hands
Sequel To - Hospital Bed Confessions
Author - luvsbitca
Rating - PG-13
Word Count - 1377
Summary - Stiles gets stuck tending to an injured werewolf when Derek appears at his window.
Disclaimer - If I owned this show there would be more of it, lots lots more of it.
Author's Notes - I actually have a fairly good idea where this is going to go now. I am sitting and eating cheesecake which is awesome and am having a night off so I hope you are all having a good time too :D.
Helping Hands
by Moonbeam
Stiles walked over to Derek and kicked his leg. He didn’t move. Stiles swore but bent down and pulled Derek’s jacket and then shirt off leaving the wolf’s chest and wound bare.
Stiles threw Derek’s clothes behind him and went to get something to wash the wound with. It was bloody typical, Derek told him to stay away, told him he was useless and yet here he was, first sign of trouble demanding Stiles’ help. And Stiles was helping, tending to a disgusting wound because who the hell else was going to do it?
Stiles dragged Derek up onto his bed not worrying when Derek’s head connected with the wall, he was a werewolf what harm could it do?
Stiles knew he was being petty, it must have taken a lot for Derek to decide to come back, to search him out when he’d just made it perfectly clear Stiles was not wanted but Stiles decided just this once he didn’t care.
“Stupid werewolves coming to me for help when they tell me to stay away.” Stiles said wiping at the deep gash in Derek’s chest with disinfectant and water, the sides of the wound would need to be held together so he would be able to heal.
It wasn’t until after Stiles had decided to use the really sticky tape that hurt quite a bit when you pulled it off instead of the white tape that only kind of hurt when you pulled it off that he realised what was so very weird about Derek’s visit. Derek was a werewolf, hell he was an alpha now which meant that he should have been able to heal the wound on his chest and it should not have caused him to pass out, it was a flesh wound, a deep flesh wound but it wasn’t even bleeding anymore and it hadn’t reached bone or vital organs so something must be wrong.
Stiles sighed and went back to his bedroom with the tape; if Derek was asleep there was little chance he’d be able to work out if anything had been used to slow the healing. Stiles thumped his head against the wall as he called Scott and asked him to come over. Scott was not going to be pleased, the anger he felt towards Derek was deserved but utterly unhelpful if what Derek had said was true. Though what hunters were coming Stiles didn’t know and he kept acting as though they’d be able to do this without him, he’d managed to help them take down Peter so there was no reason Stiles wouldn’t be helpful now as well.
Scott dropped into Stiles’ room though the window and looked at Derek on Stiles’ bed.
“What is here doing here?” Scott asked.
“I have no idea. He fell through my window and asked for help before passing out.”
“Didn’t he tell you to go away and stay out of it three days ago?”
“Yes Scott. Now sniff his wound and tell me what you smell so I can treat him and get him out of my room before he threats me with bodily harm again.”
Scott stared at Stiles for a few long minutes before nodding and leaning over Derek to sniff at the wound. He stayed there for several long minutes before pulling away. “I can’t smell anything unusual, disinfectant and the usual human or werewolf smells.”
Stiles sighed and sat on his desk chair. Scott needed Derek to train him. He needed more than Stiles because Stiles was almost certain that if he’d actually been trained properly then he might have had more luck with this. Stiles finally nodded.
“Thanks Scott.”
“All good dude, can you help me out tomorrow I’m going to see Allison and I need a lookout?”
Stiles nodded and with a grin Scott threw himself back out of the window leaving Stiles alone with Derek again. Stiles sat on his chair for a while thinking about Derek laying on his bed and the way he’d looked when he was dying from wolfsbane poisoning, pale and clammy, he had been weak and desperate but he didn’t look like that now. He didn’t even look like he’d been in a fight there was just the angry wound on his chest. What had sent him to Stiles instead of his own beta? Surely Jackson would have been able to help him, unless something had happened to Jackson.
Stiles pushed himself up and grabbed his phone sending a text to Jackson. -Hey Jackson, give me a call-
He didn’t have to wait long for Jackson to respond. -Leave me alone Stiles, I’m not interested in anything you have to say freak-
Being a werewolf didn’t seem to have done much for Jackson’s personality. But he wasn’t passed out, or dead. He might be injured but that didn’t explain why Derek had not gone to him. There must be a reason so Stiles left it at that and pulled the tape out, holding the wound together to tape the two sides of the deep gashes together hopefully allowing the healing to occur more quickly.
When Stiles was done he tidied all the bloody things and hid them from his father before sitting on his desk chair and looking at Derek. He’d wait out the night, if Derek wasn’t awake by the morning he’d take him to the hospital…no the vet, he’d seemed to know what Scott was and hadn’t freaked out so he would be the best bet. It only took a moment for Stiles to see the flaw in that plan, the vet didn’t like Derek, had been kidnapped and beaten by the then beta. Stiles thumped his head down until his chin rested on his chest. Was there anyone in Beacon Hills who could help the werewolf that he hadn’t actively pissed off?
Stiles knew he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight so he turned his chair around to look for stuff on fae but Derek wouldn’t let him concentrate.
Derek muttered nonsense in his sleep, grunted and growled and snored and basically did everything possible for Stiles’ barely existent concentration to be shot to hell. Finally, long after midnight and long after Stiles had given up researching Lydia thinking he’d be able to do it tomorrow before he went and saw her the next day he’d fallen asleep on his chair, his chin tucked into his chest and his hand curled into his pocket.
Stiles woke with a start before the sun had even risen enough to light the whole sky to see Derek watching him.
“You’re up.” Stiles said uncurling his body and stretching.
“Yes.” Derek said tersely.
“Have you healed?”
“Mostly.” Derek stood up followed swiftly by Stiles who came over to look at the wound beneath the tape, he felt a momentary twinge of guilt for that but it was gone before he had chance to reassure himself the alpha deserved it.
“Did they use something to inhibit healing or make you pass out because Scott couldn’t smell anything but I’d already bathed the wound when I realised it was a bit weird that a wound like that would make you pass out.”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” Derek said pressing around the tender skin of his wound.
Stiles rolled his eyes at Derek’s lack of an answer. “Why didn’t you go and see Jackson instead?”
“Because.”
“Derek! You can’t just come here assuming I will help you when you were the one who told me I was useless.” Stiles said with annoyance turning to walk away.
Derek grabbed the back of Stiles’ shirt to turn him back around which caused Stiles to grunt and arch away.
Derek yanked Stiles’ shirt up. “What happened here?”
“The other night when I came to see you.” Stiles explained quietly trying to catch his breath.
“I did this?”
“Yeah.”
Derek was out the window before Stiles’ shirt had finished falling down his back.
“Fucking werewolves.” Stiles yelled at his window.
Later when Stiles was tidying up his room he found Derek’s leather jacket half under his bed, he balled it up and threw it into the very back of his closet where the old smelly sneakers lived with a vicious grin.
The End
Enjoy...