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Summary
“I know you like being protective of him, Stiles,” Lydia said, her snark sounding sharper than usual, “But he’s the one who is most trained, and most likely to hold his own against her if something goes wrong.”
“Stiles, I’m perfectly capable of making my own goddamn decisions,” Derek snapped. “We’re going ahead, everyone get ready, we leave in half an hour.”
Scott looked at Stiles, and Stiles couldn’t help but smile. It was nice that Scott still cared about his opinion, even when he was in the minority. He sighed, but nodded.
He tried not to let the anxiety fill his chest as everyone scattered to gather all that they needed. Derek grabbed his arm before he could leave.
“I can take care of myself, Stiles,” Derek said, his voice low and annoyed, “I don’t know what you read, or what you think you know. But I don’t want your fucking pity.”
Stiles pulled his arm out of Derek’s grip roughly, walking away.
“Sorry for actually caring about you, asshole.”
xxx
Derek Hale learns to accept some comfort in his life