#moonlitthoughts

***

 Malia's eyebrows crawl up to her hairline when Derek walks into the hospital with flowers. "You've got to be kidding me." she snorts. It's times like these when he can really see Peter in her. He scowls, but it doesn't seem to have any effect, as she snatches the flowers out of his grip and flutters her eyelashes. "You brought him flowers." she coos. "You're so sweet, Derek."

 "He's sick. That's what you do when people get sick." Derek mutters.

 "I think it's cute." Kira offers, smiling at him. It doesn't serve to help his nerves, because her smile is soft and understanding and not at all the kind of smile you give someone who's not doing something pathetic.

 "Just throw them out." he snaps, turning on his heel to leave. Lydia enters the waiting room just as he goes to leave, blocking his exit.

 She blinks at him in surprise. "Oh, you're here."

 "I'm leaving." Derek growls.

 "He bought Stiles flowers!" Malia chirps. When Derek turns to glare at her, she's twirling around the waiting room with them.

 "Wow, that's...sweet." Lydia says, pressing her lips together.

 "It is!" Kira insists, grabbing at Derek's arm to show support. "I love getting flowers."

 "Every girl does." Malia agrees, grinning.

 Derek's about to shake Kira off and leave when Scott comes into the waiting room from behind the Post-Op doors. He blinks at Derek dumbly. "Dude, you came."

 "I was just—"

 "He brought flowers." Malia waves them at Scott, grinning like a loon.

 Scott's eyebrows go up a little but then he smiles. "That's super nice of you. Stiles is going to love them."

 Derek blushes, but he crosses his arms to try and make him look tougher than he feels. "How is he, anyway?"

 "Waking up." Scott nods. "Surgery went fine. He's totally out of it, but you know...he'll live."

 "Can we see him?" Malia pushes.

 Scott nods and turns to hold the door open. Derek doesn't see a reason not to follow them through.

 He's never liked hospitals. He didn't have to spend any time in them as a kid, but in the last few years he's had enough experience to last him a lifetime. They smell stale and acrid from cleaning supplies and illness, and it makes him uncomfortable. But he pushes through, because it's Stiles, and as much as he hates to admit it, the pack would be nothing without him.

 When they enter the room Derek is almost assaulted by noise and smells. There's some off-key warbling and machines whirring, and then the obvious smell of sedatives laying over Stiles' own scent. The warbling is Stiles, who is singing something he doesn't recognize in what he's not even sure is English. The sheriff is leaning against the wall and grinning at his son like he's the most amusing thing he's ever seen. Even the nurses are chuckling at him, which he always pauses and frowns out, making a discontented noise before continuing.

 It takes him way too long to notice his visitors, and he only does because Malia drops onto the bed next to him, flowers thrust in his direction. He beams, trying to reach for them but being stopped by the blood pressure cuff on his arm. "Flowers!" he laughs lazily as Malia drops them into his lap. He picks gently at their petals. "I like flowers." he says, nodding sagely at her.

 "Derek got them for you." she says, petting his hair. Derek is still amazed that despite their ended relationship, the two still remain so close. He can still see the bare adoration in her eyes when she looks at him, and he knows Stiles would take a bullet for her if he needed to.

 When Stiles hears Derek's name he swivels his head trying to locate him. He passes him twice before he focuses and beams. "You brought me flowers!" he coos. "I like 'em."

 "I'm glad." Derek snorts.

 "Don't get flowers a lot." he muses, considering them. "Not since I was little."

 "His mom used to buy him flowers." John says. "She always knew just when he needed them. I've never been good about it."

 "How's your leg?" Kira asks Stiles, smiling.

 Stiles shrugs, still plucking at the flowers.

 "He's on some heavy painkillers. They're going to have to do another surgery, but he gets to keep it." John fills in. "They want to keep him for a few days to make sure he doesn't mess up the work they did the moment he gets home."

 "Which he absolutely would." Lydia agrees, sitting on his other side when the nurses move out of her way. He looks up at her and grins. She grabs his hand, smiling back at him softly. "You'll be fine, you idiot."

 "So." the sheriff sighs, moving to Derek's side. "Trolls?"

 "I guess." Derek agrees. "I'm sorry. About...that I didn't..." Derek trails off awkwardly, nodding at Stiles, who is back to singing.

 "I had to come to terms with the fact he's always going to get himself in trouble a long time ago." John claps a hand on his shoulder. "We can't stop him from getting hurt, we can only try."

 Derek nods lamely, looking at his feet.

 "It's nice you came. He's drugged out of his mind right now, but he'll be really happy you did."

 "He's pack." Derek mutters. "I'd do it for anyone else."

 "Uh-huh." John agrees, but it sounds knowing. Derek's cheeks flame. "Well, still, he'll be glad. When he's not too busy singing Polish lullabies."

 "Oh my god!" Stiles gasps suddenly, drawing everyone's attention. "I have flowers!"

 "I think we should let him get some sleep." John suggests. Lydia places a kiss on his forehead and Malia places one on his cheek before they both stand and leave. Scott and Kira both grab his hand in turns and then that only leaves Derek, who stands awkwardly for a moment before just turning and ducking out of the room.

 It's not like Stiles will remember it anyway.

***

 "You brought me flowers."

 Derek freezes halfway through the window. Stiles is propped up in his bed, grinning stupidly at him, and it makes Derek turn red. "You should be sleeping." he mutters to avoid the comment as he finishes climbing in.

 "I've spent the last three days sleeping, dude. I'm wired. What's in the bag?" Stiles makes grabby hands.

 Derek keeps it at his side. "Who says it's for you?"

 "Uh, the fact you're sneaking into my room with it?" Stiles wriggles a little more, wincing. Derek doesn't even realize he's jumped forward until he's already got his hands on Stiles' sides to steady him. Stiles sighs. "I hate this, dude."

 Derek hands fly off.

 Stiles frowns. "Not that. The helplessness. I mean, the pain sucks, too, but the fact I can't even sit up without help—which, yeah, help me please—is just annoying."

 Derek more cautiously helps Stiles' sit up, propping him into position with an abundance of pillows before he drags Stiles' desk chair over and sits awkwardly next to him. "I was kind of expecting you to be asleep." he admits. "I just, um...here."

 Stiles takes the bag with a wide grin, dumping it out onto his lap. A heap of Reese's and three DVDs sit there as a representation of how pathetic Derek really is when it comes to Stiles, but the teenager doesn't seem to care about that so much. He laughs in delight and studies each DVD, looking positively over the moon about it all. "This is awesome, dude." Stiles grins at him. "Thank you."

 "I figured you'd be bored out of your mind, and that your dad would start getting revenge on you for the last seven or so years of salad."

 Stiles snorts and nods, ripping a pack of Reese's open. He pops one into his mouth with a tiny moan and then offers the second to Derek, who takes it just so he doesn't have to sit there uncomfortably. "You're not fooling me, Hale." Stiles says suddenly. Derek freezes mid bite. "I see right through that werewolfy armor of yours."

 He swallows thickly. "What do you mean?"

 "The flowers, the movies, the candy...I know you actually care. You'll never admit it, but you like me. You'd be lost in a sea of dismal grey without my leading light of humor."

 Derek does actually laugh. "Yeah, okay."

 "Seriously, though. Thanks for coming, and...you know, bringing all this." He pauses, the silence dragging as they both try to figure out what to say. Then he perks up. "Hey, you wanna watch this together?" He waves around The Amazing Spider-Man case with a grin. "I hear it's way better than Tobey Maguire's version."

 "If you want me to."

 Stiles nods. "Yeah, sure. Why not? Go grab my laptop and sit."

 He does as he's told, carefully making himself semi-comfortable next to Stiles without bumping his leg. Surprisingly, Stiles is silent during the movie, and anytime Derek even moves Stiles shushes him. It's enough to make him chuckle, which earns him a glare and an elbow to the ribs. Derek elbows him back and it suddenly turns into a back-and-forth of elbows and empty Reese's wrappers. He couldn't tell anyone what happened for the last twenty minutes of the movie, but he can definitely tell them how many times Stiles laughs.

 "Hey, Derek?" Stiles starts nervously, waiting for Derek to look at him before continuing. "You do...you know, like me, right?"

 Derek swallows and nods. "Yeah. I do."

 "Like...like like me?"

 Derek rolls his eyes. "I can't believe I like like someone who still uses the phrase 'like like.'"

 "Shut up, that's an actual grammatical thing, asshole. It's called reduplication, look it up."

 Derek just smiles at him, waiting for the words to click in his mind. He sees the moment it does, his indignant scowl turning into a wide-eyed gape. "Oh. Oh, I—wow. Okay. I, um. I like like you, too."