I hope you don’tmind, I changed the prompt a bit! No wisdom teeth are pulled in the making ofthis fic but a tooth is chipped - *gasp* - and bby!Derek decideshe’s gotta step up and be Stiles’ personal werewolf superhero. I hope you feel better, sweetheart (and sorry it’s a week late).
“Der?” Stiles asks, gently tugging onDerek’s hand. He looks…un-char-as-tic-ally…shy and Derek is immediatelyon alert. He nearly wolves out, in his panic, but he stops himself just intime.
Stiles sniffs, sitting down and buryinghis face in the pillow Derek has been guarding for the past ten minutes. Stilesnever forgets to bring his pillow to school and he only ever trusts Derek towatch it when he goes to the bathroom or outside to play. Stiles doesn’t eventrust the teacher to watch it for him.
Putting down his sandwich, Derekfrowns.
He hates when people are sad,especially Stiles. Momma says it’s good to cry when you’re sad - when you cryyou get marshmallows too - but Stiles looks like he’s trying not tocry, which is….counter….counter?…productive….yeah, because Stiles loves marshmallows. Derek knows he doesn’thave to cry if he doesn’t want to, though. One time, Uncle Peter made Derek crywhen he didn’t want to and it wasn’t fun.
Looking around, he searches forsomething to help. Stiles always asks for comic books when he’s sick - Derek reallyhopes Stiles isn’t sick - but the only thing Derek can find is his juicebox. It’s apple.
He tries to give it to him - puts thestraw in, making sure it’s bendy, like Papa does for him - but Stiles shakeshis head.
“No, thanks,” he mutters.
Derek blinks, looking around again.He thinks about offering up the rest of his sandwich instead but it was made byLaura, which means it sucks, and Stiles doesn’t deserve things thatsuck. Even if he does talk way too fast sometimes and drools on Derek’sfavorite Aladdin blanket at sleepovers. He read a picture book about penguinson Saturday, and it said friendships are about compromise. Derek guesses thatmeans having to watch Aladdin suffer, sometimes. But only for Stiles.
“What d’ya do?” he asks, deciding he probablyshould have asked that first. He ducks his head, embarrassed.
When he looks back up, Stiles doessomething with his hands, nearly hitting Derek in the face, which Derek thinks is supposed to be ananswer. He nods, because it’s polite, and he likes that Stiles likes that heunderstands all of his weird hand-movements (which isn’t a lie, not really- Derek just needs more practice, like with werewolf training).
Scenting the air, he tries to figureout what happened instead - Momma says he’s getting better at it - but all hecan smell is the cookie Stiles stole from Jackson Whittemore and hid in hismouth for “safe keeping” this morning.
“See?” Stiles whispers, suddenly, opening hismouth wide and pulling at both sides with his fingers.
At first, Derek isn’t sure what he’slooking at. All he sees is Stiles tongue, which can’t stay still, even for asecond. It’s pretty gross, Derek realises. Mouths are gross. Stiles does have apretty mouth, though. At least, Derek thinks it’s pretty, like ahandsome Prince, maybe? If Stiles didn’t, he would probably be doublygrossed out.
Finally, Derek sees it - a chippedtooth.
Stiles’ lip starts to wobble.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, taking Stiles’hand. That’s another thing he likes about Stiles: he lets Derek hold his hand.Derek knows not everyone likes people holding their hands. Isaac doesn’t likepeople holding his hand, not even Allison Argent, and she’s a Disney princess.
Stiles nods, wiping his nose on Derek’sshoulder. “Uh-huh. Hurts so bad. Like, like…if Batman hurt histooth and it was sore too!”
He wipes his nose on Derek again and Dereksmiles.
“Want me to phone your dad?” Stilesshakes his head. “What about Mrs McCall?” Again, no.
Derek sticks out his tongue, likeStiles does when he needs to think hard. “Okay,” he says, “I have an idea, butyou can’t tell anyone.”
Glancing at the door to make sureno-one is about to come in, Derek presses a finger to Stiles’ mouth andconcentrates really hard. He’s not supposed to take people’s pain away - notuntil he’s much older - but Derek is pretty sure Stiles is a good excuse tobreak the rules. Stiles is always making Derek break the rules, anyway. Like with the cookie this morning.
Immediately, a tiny black line beginsto run up his arm. It’s kind of sore and Derek squirms a little, but whenit stops Stiles is staring at him like, well, Derek isn’t exactly sure. Helooks happy, at least. That’s good, right?
“Are you magic?” Stiles asks.
Derek thinks about that. “No.”
Derek laughs. Stiles is silly. “No.”
“You’re a mermaid.” Stiles grins. “When I grow up, I think I’m going to marry you. I’ll wear my bestest sneakers.”
Derek thinks about that, too. “I thinkI’m okay with that.” They can have an Aladdin cake and a pool party, after.Derek really likes pool parties. Everyone is always in a good mood and he’ll get to splash Laura.
Stiles squeezes Derek’s hand and plants a kiss on his cheek.
“….are you sure you’re not amermaid?” he asks. Derek feels his face go warm. “Wait. No. I got it. Are you a pain sucking vampire??I’ve read about those!!”
Derek narrows his eyes. He’s much coolerthan a vampire but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to tell Stiles that.
“I’m your personal superhero,” hedecides. “I was born to protect you.” He puffs out his chest, like he’s seenSuperman do, and grins. Being born to protect Stiles doesn’t seem like a lie,if he’s being honest. He’s always falling down and running into doors. Hedoes kind of need Derek.
“Cool,” Stiles whispers, prodding oneof Derek’s eyebrows. “I don’t wanna be Lois Lane, though, okay? I want to belike my Daddy when I grow up. He gets to carry a badge.”
“Lois Lane carries a badge, too!” Derekprotests. Lois Lane is his favourite. She’s super smart. Smarter than Superman.And she’s never afraid to ask scary questions. He’s going to write a book about her one day. “She carries a specialbadge that lets her talk to important people. You like talking to people, don’tyou?”
Stiles thinks on this. “Huh.” He prodsDerek’s other eyebrow. “Okay, I’ll be your Lois Lane, then.”
Derek’s stomach does something funny.He touches it, glaring a little, and sighs. He knew he shouldn’t haveaccepted half of Jackson’s cookie. He has a feeling this means Stiles is going to end upgiving him a lot of tummy aches in the future.
Compromise, he thinks, remembering.
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll make you abadge.”
Stiles’ eyes light up. “Sweet.”
