I swapped it around, considering what’s happening to Derek in canon right now. ;)
Stiles gets a call from Derek at seven o’clock on a Saturday morning. When Stiles fumbles his phone unlocked and puts it to his ear, all he gets is silence. He flips onto his stomach and grumbles, “Man, you better be dying or something if you’re calling me this early on a Saturday.”
Derek breaks his silence. “I don’t - “ There’s another long pause and then he says, sounding hurt and confused, “Something’s wrong with me.”
Stiles sits up sharply, tugged out of his tired daze by Derek’s words. “What? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? I was just joking about the dying thing.”
“I don’t know,” Derek says, frustrated. “I don’t feel - ” He pauses to sneeze six times in a row. His voice is heavy when he says, “I think I might be.”
“Dying?” Stiles exclaims, scrambling out of bed. He grabs at his jeans, struggling to pull them on one-handed. “Just hold on, dude, I’ll be over as soon as possible. Don’t die, okay? If you see any bright lights, stay away from them.”
“Hurry,” Derek says moodily, and hangs up.
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