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He and Derek had been through a lot. If you'd ask him a year ago about whether or not he'd let Derek die in front of his eyes he'd be more than happy to enthusiastically nod because the dude scared the shit out of him. Now? After constantly saving each other's lives and growing to care about each other and somehow fighting each other turned into protecting each other and where they were once enemies they're now.. He doesn't exactly know.
He just knows that whenever he thinks back, they grew on each other, somehow. And now, he wouldn't hesitate to kill when it came to Derek's life. Which is why now, out in the middle of the woods he sees Derek just.. drops when a knife pierces him. He doesn't realize the loud scream of the older mans name is coming from him.
It's a blur from there. Arms circling his waist whenever he makes a move to sprint over to him. Someone is shouting in his ear but it's drowned out by the scream leaving Stiles' throat. Somehow he drops to his hands and knees, and everything feels silent but it isn't, not if his burning throat is anything to go by. His nails are biting into the earth, dirt making it's home under his nails as he claws, desperately, watery eyes locked on the lifeless form in front of him.
Suddenly he isn't there, in the middle of the cold woods. He's in the loft. It's bright, the sun is shining through the large window, painting the floor and walls with a beautiful orange and yellow. He blinks around, until he sees Derek wandering in from the kitchen.
He's got on a soft, cotton shirt that's a little big on him but it looks comfortable, he looks comfortable. The older man grins and Stiles can't help but return it slowly.
It feels normal whenever Derek drops down beside him and Stiles crawls on his lap, his limbs moving without his mind fully registering it. His long fingers stroke over Derek's face and the older man's features soften. "You okay?" He asks.
Stiles just smiles, closed mouth and soft and nods. "Yeah. Perfect. I think I fell asleep and had a nightmare, is all." He says with a little shrug. "I'm okay."
Derek tilts his head a bit, eyebrows creased with worry and Stiles leans forwards to press a kiss against his forehead. He feels content. Safe. They're both safe.
"Everything will be okay." He ears Derek whisper out and it makes him flutter his eyes open that he didn't realize he closed. The whisper sounded far off, like Derek wasn't inches away but across the room. And there's no other noise, nothing apart from that one sentence Derek whispered. Not even their breathing. He can't even hear their breathing.
Derek's fingers come up to dance across Stiles' face.
He has six fingers.
Stiles is suddenly jolted out of the dream, projection, illusion. Whatever it was, to Derek screaming his name. It's loud, too. Loud and broken and desperate.
It takes him a second, that's all he has really.
He saw it, the knife being raised to Derek, and he didn't think twice. Didn't hesitate. He never hesitates with Derek, does he? He'd jumped, between one second and the next he'd been the one to take the knife, sharp and stinging when it slammed into his chest.
It had taken another second for his brain to shut off in the panic and he had searched for Derek, even in his subconscious, to make it feel like it was okay. To make it seem like everything was different. To make it feel like it was the right choice.
It was the right choice.
He gets one more second to hear his name choked out of Derek's mouth, to smile up at him and search for his hand, before the word turns black.
-
"In the heartfelt mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will visit us, to shine on those sitting in darkness, in the shadow of death, to guide our feet to the way of peace."