Most of you voted to save Stiles, so, here you are. The final chapter. :-)
Derek watched in horror as Stiles eyes closed and he hit the floor. He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. Derek hadn't cried in over a year, but suddenly, tears formed in his eyes and fell down his cheeks. He couldn't stop them. He didn't want to. Crossing the kitchen in a heartbeat, he fell down to his knees next to Stiles. Kate's dead body was on the kitchen floor, her blood pouring slowly out of her wound and on to the wooden floor, mixing with Stiles'. Derek placed his finger by Stiles' neck and felt his pulse. It was faint, but it was still there. He needed to act fast, to save Stiles. He could break down later. But not now. Pulling Stiles' frail body up into his arms, Derek took Stiles to his bedroom and laid him down gently on the bed. Stiles was getting blood all over the sheets, but Derek didn't care. He rolled Stiles over onto his side so he didn't choke on his blood if he became conscious. Derek wouldn't give up hope.
Gently pulling off Stiles' clothes, Derek examined his body. Stiles was a mess. His skin was an array of mysterious colours. Rather than it's usual rosy pink that Derek adored so much, his skin had tinges of black, navy, purple and yellow bruises, dotted all around his body, and reddy brown stains from his blood. Derek ran his hand smoothly across Stiles' skin, feeling his internal for the damage. All his organs seemed fine, but by a ridge in his ribcage, Derek could tell that Stiles' rib had been broken and dislocated. Not only that, but Derek could feel it healing under his hand. Since they had been together, they had swapped so much body fluid, that Derek wasn't in the least surprised that Stiles had started to show signs of regenerative healing. That was both a good and a bad thing. It was a good thing, in the sense that it was now a lot less likely that Stiles would die here. The thought comforted Derek, but he didn't have time to be comforted. The bad thing was that Stiles' rib was now healing in the wrong place, and Derek would have to re-break it.
Stiles stirred on the bed and his eyes flew open, taking in his surroundings. He was confused and was entrusting his life to Derek, sat in front of him, tears streaming down his face and staining his skin. He looked as bad as Stiles felt. But even in such anguish, Stiles couldn't help but feel like Derek was an angel in disguise. A hurting angel. Once Derek noticed Stiles was awake, he began to murmur gently and calmly in his ear.
"Well done, Stiles. She's dead, she's gone." Derek heaved a sigh of relief, as the truth finally hit him. "But our troubles aren't over. You've taken on some of my DNA and it is speeding up your healing process, so I'm going to have to re-break your ribs. I can't call the hospital because I haven't got the time to hide Kate's body. I'm going to have to do this myself. I'm so sorry, baby."
Stiles acknowledged that Derek had called him 'baby' for the first time. It was an affectionate nickname and Stiles loved it. He tried to focus on that, rather than the burning pain which threatened to rip him apart from the inside out. Stiles felt himself being pulled up into Derek's arms. He knew what was about to happen, but he didn't even have the strength to prepare himself for it. He felt his body shift to the right, then to the left, as the room was filled with a deafening crack. Then he felt it. The pain was so intense, Stiles couldn't hold back anymore. He had been trying not to make any painful noises for Derek's sake, but he just had to. Stiles let out a scream so genuine that it terrified both the boys to their cores. Exhausted from the effort, Stiles passed out for the second time that day, in Derek's arms.
When Stiles came to, he was wearing an overly large shirt and a pair of boxers that came down to his knee caps. They were more like shorts. He was tucked comfortably in Derek's bed, the white sheets now cleaned of his blood. He was so toasty under the sheets, Stiles could tell he had been in this bed for a few days. That thought was re-inforced when the hunger hit him like a brick. He was about to jump up out the bed and head for the kitchen, with nothing else in mind, when a sharp pain pushed him back down to the bed. His body had not quite healed.
"Great..." Stiles thought. "What to do?"
Stiles lay there for a few minutes, lots of questions whizzing around his mind. "Where was Derek?" was the main one. His question was answered when he heard quiet footsteps coming up the stairs. The door creaked open and a smell of food entered. Stiles sat up, ignoring the pain in his side. In his hands, Derek was holding a tray of all sorts of assorted breakfast foods. Toast, bread, jam, butter, croissants, eggs, bacon and so forth. Stiles started shuffling his legs in impatience as he waited for Derek to hand him the food. Derek placed the tray in front of Stiles, then sat on the edge of the bed. Stiles hastily tucked in, not even bothering to look at Derek. It wasn't that he didn't care, it was just that he was so hungry he thought he might die if he didn't eat soon. When Stiles had eaten all of the food in front of him and filled himself up, he placed the tray on the floor. Derek was sat at the end of the bed, out of Stiles' reach, looking out of the window. His thoughts seemed miles away.
Stiles broke the silence. "Come up here," he said. Derek obliged, shifting his body around and pulling himself up so he was level with Stiles. As soon as Derek laid back against the headboard, Stiles laid across his chest. Derek didn't respond. Stiles would have expected him to put his arms around him to welcome him in, or something, but no. "What's wrong?" Stiles asked, also looking out of the window. The view was beautiful. Through the silence, Stiles heard Derek's intake of breath as his voice cracked, as he tried to voice what he wanted to say.
"I'm so sorry..." he whispered.
"Why?" Stiles asked.
"Why? Did you seriously just ask why!" Derek said his volume and tone a lot louder. Stiles felt their heartbeats increase in speed. Stiles didn't say anything until Derek's heartbeat had returned to normal, and it was the only noise filling the room, as Derek's heart was so close to his ear.
"It wasn't your fault." Stiles said simply. Derek opened his mouth to protest, but Stiles wouldn't let him. "I'm not going to let you shoulder the blame for this. I don't know why she was here, and I don't want to know. But she's gone now. I assume you took care of her body?"
"Well then, all that's left is us, and that's the way I want to keep it. Understand?"
Again, Derek nodded. His arms winded down around Stiles' waist and pulled him closer to him. Stiles winced and immediately wished he hadn't. Derek let go of him.
"No." Stiles whispered. "Please, don't."
"I don't want to hurt you anymore." Derek said.
"It was obviously an accident."
"I know, but still."
"Still nothing, I'm injured, I need rest, and if I can't go anywhere, I want you to stay here and cuddle me."
Finally, Derek gave in, as he pulled both of them into an embrace under the covers and took off his clothes, signifying they'd be there for a long time. Some leftovers from the breakfast were in reach and there was water, so they would not need to leave the bed for the rest of the day. Stiles put his head back against Derek's chest, and he was home.