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Derek’s been in the hospital for a total of two weeks now; it started as the flu. Then the flu never went away, and got worse really in the grand scheme of things. It got harder to breathe and he had a constant string of mucus and drool that all the tissues in the world could not clean up. It was as disgusting as it sounds.
So Laura, being the big (bad) sister she is, took him to the doctor. Who then admitted Derek into hospital and at the two-week point Derek’s fed up. He’s fed up of crappy hospital food, the crappy cable and nurses coming to check his vitals at two am whilst he’s trying to get his beauty sleep.
So that’s why two weeks and eight hours into his hospital visit, he’s bundled up in his hospital blankets and his wolf blanket that Laura brought him from home in a protective fort from the next wave of needles.
“It’s what keeps his beard so luscious.” Laura says, seriously and straight faced to the new nurse. “He needs his beauty sleep.”
“Well I need blood.” The new nurse says, sassing Laura right back. Derek grumbles from his blanket bundle. Derek swears that he is a competent human being mostly all of the time, but there’s something about being ill that makes him revert to being a stubborn six-year-old who thinks he’s a wolf. It’s quite unfortunate.
“Do you have too?” Derek grumbles from his bundle, only his eyes are visible at this point so he makes a point to give this new nurse the Derek Speciality. The Death Glare.
“Yes I do, Mr Bundle. Gimme your arm.” He holds out his long fingered hands and Derek pouts behind his blankets and flops his arm outside of the safety of his fort. He makes sure to be as uncooperative as he possibly can. “Thank you Mr Bundle.” The man grins, big beaming smile taking up his entire face. His face of evil and blood drawing. Derek refuses to find it cute on principle.
Derek was asleep. Still in his little bundle, obviously. He’s not letting his guard down just cause he’s asleep. Oh No. That’s how wars are lost. But mainly the point is he was asleep. He is not now.
The new nurse’s awful crocs squeak as he walks, Derek can hear him coming. So Derek calls in for reinforcements. He drops his arms out of his bundle and scoops up the small mountain of pillows on the floor and arranges them in a strategically flawless barricade. His history and architecture degree coming in handy.
The door opens and Derek is ready, a little bit delirious on pain killers and anti-biotics but ready.
“Mr Bundle?” The new nurse pops his head around the door and sighs when he sees Derek’s fort.
“Fight me.” Derek growls, lifting his head slightly to glare at him. The nurse walks over shaking his head and calmly and slowly dismantles Derek’s fort.
“Maybe later.” He smiles, it’s a softer smile. It’s a fond smile. For that Derek offers his arm through the bundle and pushes his blanket off his head. “Wow.” The nurse breathes, mouth wide. Derek immediately wipes his mouth, worried. The nurse takes the hand Derek was using to wipe his mouth and shakes his head. “I see what your sister meant.”
“Huh?” Derek breathes. “Your beard, it really is impressive.” He smirks as he preps the needle. Derek’s breath hitches in his throat. Okay maybe this guy is a little cute.
Derek wakes up around 10, the familiar squeak of crocs jolting him awake. Derek sleepily fumbles for his pillows, only managing to find one and a blanket. He made do and wraps himself up and prepares the battle stance.
The sigh that comes from the nurse is a fond one.
“Oh Mr Bundle, can I call you bundle?” He laughs as he heads over. “I’m just checking your vitals. No blood. Don’t worry.”
“Fi-“ Derek begins to argue, before the wad of mucus stuck in his throat catches him and he starts coughing. The coughing soon became choking.
After three minutes of water and calming back shoulder pat things from the nurse, Derek’s throat releases his unattractive ball of phlegm and ickiness. He hides himself in his fort but not for protection, this time it was hiding the fact his ears are flushing scarlet
“I couldn’t fight you.” The nurse smiles softly offering bundle Derek a drink. Derek opens his mouth to protest, to argue he could put up a bloody good fight even if he was ill. “Not because of that.” He waves his arms around a little. “Look at me, you’d win.”
Derek blushes further but grins into his bundle.
Laura arrives at 1 whilst Derek is still sleeping, and Cora joins her after then minutes; his sisters sit at the bottom of his hospital bed and remark on how well he was looking and sneakily slip a box of cookies into his secret food cupboard stash as they leave. He spends the day watching bad cable, chewing bad food and sleeping. His biggest nap takes him from three to eight. Usually the nurse comes at seven thirty and wake him up. But there was no nurse when he wakes, just a take away coffee cup from the hospital gift shop with the words “Fight me?” on the side in sharpie with a number underneath.
“I didn’t want to wake you up.” The nurse smiles from the doorway. “My name’s Stiles by the way. It’s from me. You struck me as a latte guy, your eyebrows read black like my soul but I don’t know you just struck me as the guy who’s like a latte.” Stiles walks further in to the room.
“Why?” Derek asks, wiping snot from his nose and sniffling.
“I don’t know, you’re endearing even covered in drool and coughing for your life. You wooed me with your drool, Mr Hale.” “Not Mr Bundle then?”
“Nah, I actually looked at your file. It’s Derek right.”
“Yeah.” Derek sniffles and let out a little cough.
“Well the good news is the anti-biotics are working. You should be able to go home next week.”
“Yay?”
“So you should come back, definitely for regular check-ups because the common cold is very deadly.” Stiles smiles again softly. “We might have to even take more blood.” Derek harrumphs.
“You’ll have to fight me first.” “I was planning on it.” Stiles winks as he trots out of the room.
Derek grins to himself, sniffling as he thinks; Yeah okay. Definitely cute.