As he started to wake up, Stiles held back a groan at the all-too familiar brightness, noise and strong smells. He was in a hospital. Again.

That was one of the reasons he was excited to be in San Francisco, less hospitals because less supernatural...things.

He bent his neck downward and to the side, trying to see his collarbone and seeing if the gunshot wound was still as bad, but whether that was the pain medication flowing in in veins, or the fact that he wasn't in a dark cave on his deathbed, that was to be determined.

He pushed himself upwards, trying to get a better look at his wound. It made his head pound and his blood rush to his feet; he swallowed, trying not to throw up from the sudden nausea and dizziness and that's when the door opened; In the midst of his predicament, Stiles heard the one voice he had been aching to hear.

"Stiles?"

He had never been so happy to see his dad, despite the fact his vision was spinning and he was feeling increasingly sick. He ran over and gently lowered Stiles back against the pillows. "Just get some rest, kiddo."

"Is everyone okay? Kira, Derek, they're all okay?" Stiles swallowed down the nausea, trying to process anything that had happened since he saw Kira, but it was all blurry. "No one else is hurt?"

"The only person who is hurt is you. Your arm is pretty injured, and you're still running a fever."

Stiles nodded, taking everything in. That's when he decided what he needed to know most. "Is Derek here still?"

"Yeah, he's still here." Noah nodded, reaching a hand up and running a hand through Stiles', what he could imagine, extremely dirty, hair. "Do you want me to get him?"

Stiles nodded and his dad squeezed his hand gently before disappearing through the door, leaving Stiles along again with his thoughts. The only thing he could think about was if Derek was okay and while his father had assured him that he was indeed okay, his brain was still so fuzzy that he needed to see him to believe it.

Thankfully, his thoughts did not have enough time to spiral, because he soon heard footsteps, and Derek came in.

"Oh, thank god." Stiles sighed in relief when he saw him, despite the fact he was as was, if not even more, in need in a shower then he was. "You're alive."

"I could say the same thing about you." Derek smiled at him, clearly in relief, but Stiles could tell something was holding him back from fully expressing himself.

"If you want to give me a hug, you can. I won't ruin your bad boy cred." He chuckled, but was nearly shocked out of his skin when Derek raced forward and wrapped his arms around him. Stiles had no way to respond other then giving Derek the hug he so desperately wanted.

"I'm okay, Derek."

"I know, I just..." He trailed off, pulling out of the hug, "I cannot lose more of my family."

"You're not going to lose me."

"I thought I was. I didn't want to tell you, but I thought you were going to die in that cave."

Stiles swallowed harshly as the nausea filled in the pit of his stomach once again, only it wasn't because he had sat up too fast, but instead because he had caused Derek so many problems, only because he was tricked into leaving his truck.

Almost as if he could see the wheels of negativity and self-blame turning inside his head, even though it was probably just chemo signals, Derek stopped Stiles' destructive train of thought.

"It was not your fault, Stiles," he paused, reaching for Stiles' hand, which he gladly took while letting out a shuddering breath as all the emotions (and probably the medications) started to catch up with him, "Even if we all have to drill it into your head, it was not your fault." He started to speak, trying to explain exactly why all of this was his fault, but Derek cut him off. "No, you're not allowed to fight with me on this, cause it is not your fault."

Stiles conceded with a nod, despite the fact he knew it was his fault, but the guilt was being over taken by the need for sleep; luckily, Derek seemed to notice too and gently squeezed his hand. "Get some sleep. I'm staying here."

"I-is Lydia here?" He asked, trying to stay awake for a few more moments. "Is she worried?" The last thing he wanted was for Lydia to be worried about him.

"Yeah, she's here. You can talk to her when you wake up. Sleep." Derek insisted, shutting off the lamp beside his eyes which definitely made him more exhausted and he let himself drift off into blackness.