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His feet were frozen in place as everything went quiet, almost numb. He couldn't move as he watched the Berserker lunge toward him, the shouts of his friends falling on deaf ears.
That's when he felt the giant, blistering pain coming from his left side that made his vision blur. Everything went from slow motion to way too fast as his feet only moved to allow him to fall on his back, but the only thing he was able to focus on was the blinding pain.
He put his hands over the area, and felt his hands get slick and warm. He lifted his right hand to his eyeline, and noticed it was bright with red. His body was screaming at him and the pain was radiating through him when he finally heard a voice shouting his name; the fear hitting his ears surprisingly hurt more then the wound.
"Stiles!"
He coughed weakly, trying to talk despite the fact that Malia was now adding more pressure to the wound, and he had the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. "Y-you have to find Lydia." Another cough, he felt the blood drip down to his chin. "F-find her."
"Scott, he's losing a lot of blood." He heard Malia say before she pressed harder, which made Stiles let out an involuntary hiss through his teeth, as he shakingly tried to keep pressure on his wound.
"Keep looking for Lydia!" Scott shouted as gun shots started to go off around them. Stiles could make out the shape of his best friend sprinting toward him, stopping on his knees and looking over at where their hands were. "We have to get him out of here."
Stiles' vision started to dim, but he forced himself to stay awake. He needed to make sure Lydia was okay, that she was alive. He was brought out of his thoughts by feeling something squeeze just above his stomach tightly, which almost made him puke, but he settled for a groan and another cough, feeling more blood drip down his chin.
"Malia's starting Derek's car. We're getting you to the hospital. Everyone else is staying here to find Lydia." Scott explained, and Stiles felt an arm go under his knees and another under his upper back before he was lifted off the ground.
The fire in his left side was reignited and he bit back a scream, even if having his head pressed against Scott's chest was mildly comforting. The faint smell of dial soap and Barbasol shaving cream still fought it's way to the surface despite all the dust, sweat and muskiness that every werewolf smelled like, at least in his experience.
The gunshots kept going off as he was placed into the backseat of a car, his head resting on a pair of bony legs. He looked up at Malia as he heard the door slam and Scott go around to the front.
He saw a scared smile on Malia's face and let the darkness welcome him once he felt the first lurch of the vehicle pull away from the tunnels. He had to trust that they would find Lydia.
•••
Bright.
That was the first thing that came to mind when he regained consciousness in the hospital, and he knew it had to be the hospital cause it was the only place he knew of with those medicinal, florescent lights.
The next thing that came to his mind was Lydia, and he must've verbalized that one because a soft, gentle voice soothed him with a hand in his hair. "They found her, she's okay."
Stiles knew that was Melissa, and he forced himself to open his eyes despite the burn of the lights, which were a stark contrast to the darkness or even the tunnels where he had been.
"Hey." She smiled softly at him, in a way that was so maternal and loving. "We're about to take you into surgery to fix some of that internal damage, I'm just finishing your pre-op."
He couldn't even bring himself to panic or decline, despite him wanting to. He felt the slight tug from the IV in his right hand and assumed they probably had him on some sort of painkiller, which had subsequently sucked all the energy out of him.
"Dad?" He chocked out, feeling just how thick his voice was and still tasting blood on his tongue.
"He's with Scott and Malia in the waiting room. Do you wanna see him before you go in?" Melissa asked softly, gently pressing the end of the stethoscope to his chest. "Deep breaths, kiddo."
Stiles complied, feeling small twinges in his left side as he inhaled that were nothing compared to earlier, before answering. "Please."
"Okay." She walked over to the small table on the left side of the room and writing something down on what he assumed was the chart she was filling out before going to the door, taking the clipboard with her. "I'm gonna give this to the surgeon and get your dad. Be right back."
Once the door closed, Stiles gently pushed himself up on his hands into a sitting position. The only protest from his own body that came was a stronger twinge from his side, and it didn't stop his curiosity, so he moved the thin hospital gown away from the packed wound.
He saw the tall, thick gash that marked his side and the inflamed edges around it, but before he could pull away the tightly packed gauze, the door opened and a pair of gloved hands were pulling his away.
His eyes met with Melissa's, who pulled the gown back over the gauze and gently pressed against his chest, pushing him back onto the pillow. "Don't mess with that, honey. The last thing you need is for it to get infected."
Before he could respond, he felt a gentle squeeze on his left hand; he turned to lock eyes with his father, who was clearly smiling to mask the fear he was feeling. "You're gonna be okay. Melissa's gonna be in there with you the whole time."
"Lydia?" Stiles swallowed in order to make a sentence, even though the metallic taste of blood that he knew he couldn't rinse out till after his surgery really just made him want to puke. "Is she hurt?"
"Cuts, bruises and stitches above her right eyebrow. Her mom took her home half an hour ago." He could see his dad hesitate before adding. "Scott thinks it was for her power more then it was for her. But she's okay." Stiles watched as his father's hand reached to his left shoulder, and he could feel the light pressure of a reassuring squeeze. "And you're gonna be okay."
His father looked up at Melissa, and Stiles couldn't see her since she was behind him, most likely putting a touch more of the painkillers in his IV considering his brain was getting less coherent and more muddled.
"Alright, bud, they're about to take you in. If you have something you want me to tell Malia or Scott, you need to tell me now."
"I don't want either of them to panic. I'm okay." Stiles barely managed to push the words out and before he knew it, the rails on the bed were pushed up and he was being taken to the operating room.
He remembered looking up at the florescent lights as he was being pushed through the halls, but the next thing he saw was Melissa's eyes, since the lower half of her face was covered by a mask.
"Stiles, you're gonna feel really tired now. It's just the anesthesia, so just try not to panic and count backwards from ten." He felt a glove squeeze his left hand as he started to force out numbers.
"Ten...nine...e-eight..."
He didn't even get to five.
•••
" 'need to keep him for a few days, to make sure the stitches don't get infected. He should wake up any second now, since the monitor picked up."
Stiles managed to pry his heavy eyelids open, hearing a voice interrupt his sleepy state, as well as the consistent beep from beside his head. He blinked a few times, making out the shape of his father as well as the doctor who he assumed was his surgeon.
"Perfect timing, Stiles. I'm Dr. Robyn Shepard. Nurse McCall and I will try and make your post-op fast so we can get you into your room and you can get some sleep for the night. Do you have any questions?"
"Can I please get some water?" He swallowed harshly, which came out as a haphazard cough, cause not only did his mouth still taste like blood, but now his throat was sore as well.
Melissa came around from his monitors to smile at him in the same motherly fashion she had been the whole time, even when he was trying to get a closer look at his wound. "Yeah, I'm on it, kid."
The relief that washed out his mouth and down his throat when the tiny paper cup was lifted to his lips was immediate, even though there was maybe two inches of water in it. He was just relived that he could no longer taste any reminders of the tunnels and the fact that he was almost skewered cause his feet were stuck when they were supposed to be saving Lydia.
Stiles wasn't really paying attention when Dr. Shepard and Melissa were doing his post-op, he was more focused on the very clear relief that was on his father's face as he gently pushed his hair toward the back of his head with one hand, a firm but soft grip around his left hand with the other one.
In fact, he was almost asleep again when there was a gentle tap on his face from his father, but before he could wave him off and fully surrender, Dr. Shepard cut in.
"Everything looks good. We're gonna take you to your room and I'll come check on you in a few hours."
The rails went up and he had the same slow moving feeling as he was forced to look upwards at the florescent lights before he was finally settled into his own room and he relaxed against the pillows, now his own pillow was behind his head and he was ten times more comfortable.
"Alright, I have to check on a few patients, but I'll update Malia and Scott." Melissa started to leave, but Stiles pushed himself up into a sitting position, balancing his weight on his hands and trying to ignore the pull of the IV.
"They're still here?"
"Yeah, they're still here. It's past visiting hours though." Before he could protest, however, she left the room and he begrudgingly lowered himself back onto the pillows.
His father's hand returned to his hair and the darkness crept in, beckoning him to sleep. Knowing that the likelihood of seeing Scott and Malia before the next morning was slim to none, he allowed himself to fall back into the darkness.
•••
Stiles' body was starting to wake him up, to his initial protest, only curbed when he heard two familiar voices near his door. The lower voice was Scott and the louder voice was definitely Malia.
He heard his father tell them to come in and before he could react, his brain still foggy from the painkillers, Malia had run over and was hugging him tightly. She only pulled away to press a kiss to his lips.
"Malia, I'm okay." Stiles tried to reassure her, but her grip around him was very comforting even if it was a bit too tight. "I'm gonna be okay."