Chapter Text
Chris was woken by the sound of the door bell chiming. He groaned, whipping the sleep from his eyes. And for a second he panicked. When did he fall asleep? It must have been a while ago by the way his back ached from sitting up. He looked down, Derek was still in a deep sleep. The bell rang again, this time rapidly and he growled in frustration.
He could just slide out from under Derek, but that would leave him laying on the floor, he didn’t want to risk him waking up on the floor alone. So he slowly moved to Derek's side, keeping one arm under his back while he got into a crouching position, he looped his other up underneath Derek's legs, and lifted. Chris had been right, Derek was heavy, but luckily he only had to turn in order to place him on the bed. He laid him on his side, making sure his head was on the pillow before covering him with the blanket. For a moment he thought about taking his shoes off, but the duvet was already ruined and he didn’t want to risk waking Derek up so he just left him alone.
The doorbell rang a few more times before he reached the door, mostly because Chris stopped in his room to change his shirt quickly. He didn’t think it would be wise to answer the door covered in dry blood.
He looked out the peephole, seeing the sour face of the building manager on the other side of the door. He sighed, wondering what he wanted this time. He unlocked the door, keeping the chain latched as he cracked it just enough for them to talk through it.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Argent, there was a complaint about blood in the elevator.” She said, crossing her arms as she spoke.
Damn it, he didn’t realize Derek had been bleeding badly when he brought him in. Why didn’t Allison tell him?
“What does that have to do with me?” he asked, trying to play stupid.
“Well I was hoping you would know where it came from, considering it leads to your door.” Chris looked down at the floor, and sure enough there were drops of blood leading all the way to the guest bedroom. How could he have been so distracted not to think about cleaning up the blood. So he thought of a quick lie.
“Oh, you know what. That's completely my fault, I came in late last night and the outside lights were off, so I slipped and scraped my hand. I apologize, I’ll come out and clean it up.” He said, hoping he sounded convincing.
The manager's face went from sour to worried, probably concerned about being sued. She shook her head, giving him a nervous smile as she held her hands up.
“That alright Mr. Argent, I apologize for bothering you. I’ll send someone up to clean it, and I’ll have the lights fixed right away, sorry for bothering you.” She said, backing away from the door quickly. He watched as she went back to the elevator, closing the door only when he was sure she was gone. He walked back over to the guest room, peeking in to make sure Derek was still asleep, he wasn’t surprised to find him in the same spot he had left him. In his experience near fatal injuries took longer to heal, which took more energy, Derek would be out for a while.
He sighed, heading down the hallway to grab the mop from the hall closet. He walked into the guest room, mopping up the blood on the floor and picking up a few pieces of glass that had missed the trash can. Once the floor was clean he quietly moved the nightstand back to its place beside the bed, then he pushed the chair back over to the corner where it belonged. The duvet would have to stay until Derek woke up, but for now the room was as clean as it was going to get. So he switched the lamp next to the bed on and turned the overhead light off before heading back to the hallway. He mopped the rest of the hallway and rinsed the mop before returning everything back to the closet.
Allison's door was closed, which meant she had come home sometime while he was sleeping. There was no light coming from the bottom of the door so he assumed she was asleep as well. He headed to the bathroom, his skin was sticky with blood and the smell of smoke still lingered on him. He was in desperate need of a shower.
After drying off he got into some sweat pants and a tee shirt. Contemplating whether or not he should sleep in his room or on the couch. The living room was closer, he would be able to hear if Derek got up in the middle of the night, so that's where he went.
—-------------- 7 Hours Later —--------------
Chris was sitting in his office when he heard panicked rustling coming from the guest room. He moved faster than he thought he was capable of, hurrying to see what was wrong.
Derek was lying on his stomach, his hands resting beside his head, he was breathing heavily, and through the mumbling Chris could only make out one word, Mom…
Chris closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He was plenty used to nightmares, he had them all the time. And so did Allison, although she didn’t talk to him about them anymore.
“Derek,” he said, slowly approaching the bed. Nothing, just more rambling. He stepped at bit closer, close enough to see where the blood had soaked through the bandage on Derek's back.
“Derek,” he said again, reaching out to gently shake him. That gained a bit more of a reaction, but inevitably didn’t wake the werewolf. Chris would have left it alone, but whatever he was dreaming about was obviously terrifying him from the way he jerked and whined.
“Derek, wake up,” Chris said a bit louder, shaking him again. That did the trick. Before Chris could react he was against the wall, a clawed hand around his throat. Derek growled, his eyes bright blue as he looked widely around the room. Chris wrapped his hands around Derek's wrists.
“Derek, let go,” he choked out trying to pry the hand away. Derek's eyes snapped back to him, studying him as his chest heaved for air.
“Derek, please, I can’t breathe.” He said using all his strength to push Derek away. There was a knife in belt, he could easily reach it. But he didn’t want to, he would either enrage Derek or hurt him, and something about hurting him didn’t settle well in Chris’ mind. So he reached out, putting his hand on Derek's neck, making the younger man look at him.
“It’s okay, it was just a dream.” He gasped, trying to get through to him. And it seemed to work, because after a few seconds his eyes faded back to green, and he looked at Chris with wide eyes before taking a step back, dropping him back to the floor.
“It’s okay,” Chris repeated as Derek stepped backwards, until he was on the other side of the room.
“I didn’t mean to,” Derek said, looking down at the floor like a scolded child.
“I know, it’s alright,” Chris said, rubbing his sore throat.
“Ah,” Derek suddenly hissed, grabbing his side.
“You haven’t healed yet?” Chris asked, looking at Derek in concern.
“The broken bones and deeper wounds are taking longer than normal.” Derek said, closing his eyes as he forcefully rolled his shoulders grunting as he did.
“Come to the kitchen, I’ll get you something to eat and change the bandages.”
“I should go,” Derek said, keeping his back against the wall.
Chris looked at him sympathetically. He understood why he may not feel welcome there now that he was able to move around. He was in flight mode, and Chris couldn’t blame him.
“Derek, wait,” Chris said as Derek tried to leave the room. He fought the urge to block the doorway, staying where he was. His commanding tone seemed to be enough because Derek stopped anyway, looking at Chris, his expression suddenly worried. Chris winced, because he knew what Derek was thinking. His mind was telling him to get out now before it was too late.
“Derek, listen,” Chris said, taking a step forward. That was a bad idea. Derek dropped his head, moving backwards until his back hit the door, causing him to panic. Chris didn’t know what to do, how did you win the trust of a scared werewolf?
“I’m not gonna hurt you Derek.” Chris said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his car keys, holding them out by the ring. “If you are insistent upon leaving, I won’t stop you, you can borrow my car.”
Derek just stood there, looking at him in confusion. He looked at the keys, then back to Chris.
“Why?” He finally asked, still on edge.
Chris sighed, “because you saved my life. Because we aren’t each others enemies anymore. Because what me and my family have done to you is wrong, and I know I’ll probably never make up for that, but I have to try, because everytime I see you I think about the awful things I’ve done to people.” Chris said, never breaking eye contact with Derek. He just starred at him, a look of surprise on his face.
Finally Derek took a deep breath, he didn’t think Chris cared about all the stuff that had happened to his family. He had always supported Kate, which Derek couldn’t hate him for. He had sisters, he knew how hard it was to go against family, even if they had done awful things, not that his sisters had ever done anything as bad as Kate had but he understood to a degree. Peter was his uncle after all.
“Keep your keys,” Derek said. Relaxing a bit in Chris’ presence.
Chris nodded, slowly putting the keys back in his pocket. “Do you want me to call someone for you, or I could give you a ride, or like I said, stay as long as you want.”
“If it’s alright I might stay for a little while. Anyways its raining and I don’t want to explain this to Peter.” He said quietly, nervously even as he struggled to keep eye contact.
“Of course,” Chris said. “We can go into the kitchen if you want, there’s better lighting in there.” Chris said, letting Derek walk in front of him into the hallway. Sure enough it was pouring outside, Chris hadn’t been paying attention before. Werewolf hearing truly was something else.
Derek sat in the bar chair at the island, his hands clasped in front of him as Chris cut through the old bandages. Cringing when he saw the black and purple bruises that lined Derek’s left side, they were the type of bruises that only happened with internal bleeding. It seemed like the only good thing was that he wasn’t bleeding anymore. But the deepest wounds still remained.
“Although I’m pretty sure you aren’t capable of getting an infection, I think it might be a good idea to clean these.” Chris suggested, noticing some irritation around the worst of the wounds, it very well could have been from the healing process, but Chris wanted to be safe.
Derek groaned, dropping his head down to the counter. “Fine,” he huffed, keeping his head down as Chris got out the alcohol whips.
The room fell silent, the only noise being the occasional curse or hiss from Derek, or distant thunder rumbling ever so often. Unlike last night everything was awkward now. Chris could sense some tension coming from Derek, something was bothering the young wolf.
“What's the matter?” He asked, as he tossed the used whip into the trash.
“Nothing,” Derek said with his usual bleakness.
“You may have werewolf hearing, but I have dad hearing. Which means it’s impossible to lie to me.” Chris said as he packed the first aid kit back up, taking a mental note of everything he would need to restock.
Derek scowled, rolling his eyes as Chris walked over to the closet.
“I saw that,” the hunter muttered. Derek shook his head as Chris came back around the island.
“So are we fugitives?”
Chris looked up at him, brows furrowed. “How much of yesterday do you remember?”
“The explosion, the car ride here, I remember falling asleep on the floor.” Derek looked up at Chris wide eyed, embarrassment written all over his face.
“Yeah, we don’t have to tell anyone about that.” Chris said, knowing that neither of them would ever live it down if people found out.
“That’d be best,” Derek answered quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“But just for the record.” Chris stated, “you don’t have to be embarrassed or anything. You were hurt and delirious, it’s alright.”
“I’m not embarrassed, I’m, just forget it.” Derek huffed, frustration obvious in his voice.
“It’s ok, like I said, we don’t have to talk about it. I’m just glad you’re alright.”
Derek looked down at his hands that rested on the table. He was anxious here and it didn’t seem like he knew what to say.
“Thank you,” he finally grumbled. “Without your help everyone in Beacon Hills would probably know about me.” It was hard for him to say, so hard that it almost looked painful.
“Well, without your help I would definitely be dead right now.”
“Good we’re even,” Derek said.
“Not for everything,” Chris corrected.
Derek sat up straighter, tilting his head as he watched the hunters hesitate to say whatever it was he wanted to say.
“What do you mean?”