Outside of the FBI Training Facility | Quantico, VA

[robinonadderall]

Stiles didn't know if it was sad or impressive that he managed a whole month at his FBI internship before getting shot. Some might have said that with his luck he might've been shot on the first day.

It hadn't been his finest moment, seeing as it was just a small graze on his foot from a ricochet and he had screamed like he had a whole arm taken off. Oh and he passed out when he saw the blood. That was pretty embarrassing too. Whole thing warranted two stitches and a pass to take the rest of the day off (but was expected back bright and early tomorrow).

He was fine to drive home but of course that whole idea went out the window when he told Derek about the ordeal. Now he was waiting to be picked up, occasionally looking at the windows of the facility to see if his classmates were pointing and laughing at him.

So. Embarrassing.

[For Derek!]

Comments

[justlurkinghere]

"Don't get shot again." That was Derek's job. "And were getting something with bacon on it."

Because he was stressed and deserved it.

[robinonadderall]

"I'll do my best." But promised nothing. "We both knew the job had risks."

Even in training, apparently.

[justlurkinghere]

"I know," Derek replied with a sigh. "I know. Just try to be safe."

[robinonadderall]

"Always try to be," Stiles said. "I'm better than I used to be."

[justlurkinghere]

"That is a very low bar," Derek informed him, but at least he sounded slightly amused.

[robinonadderall]

"Still," he said. "Progress."

Which was important.

"You staying the night tonight?" As if he had to answer that.

[justlurkinghere]

"If you're not kicking me out, yeah." Because that was likely. Sure.

[robinonadderall]

"I would never," he said. "And you can make sure I don't trip and open my stitches or something."

[justlurkinghere]

"Which you'd do," Derek agreed easily.

[robinonadderall]

Stiles didn't bother arguing with that 'cause it was true. "Also you can cuddle me back to health. That's how it works, right?"

[justlurkinghere]

"I can do that," Derek replied, reaching over to put his hand on Stiles' leg. "Nothing strenuous as you're healing."

From the gunshot wound.

[robinonadderall]

"It's my foot, Derek," Stiles said. "It's not like it hit any vital organs."

[justlurkinghere]

"You don't want me to pamper you?" Because this was your chance, Stiles.

[robinonadderall]

"Well..." Okay that sounded tempting. "What's included with this pampering deal?"

[justlurkinghere]

Derek shrugged, thinking it over as he watched the traffic. "I seem to remember you liking being carried... princess style?"

Was that the right phrase for it?

[robinonadderall]

Stiles chuckled. "Well it is romantic. And I did hurt my foot."

[justlurkinghere]

"And I could make you breakfast tomorrow." Instead of abandoning him to eating a poptart and drinking the dregs found at the communal coffee pot.

[robinonadderall]

"Is that where the bacon you've demanded comes in?" he asked. "'Cause we're gonna have to go to the grocery store in that case. I live sparsely when you're not around."

Meaning ramen and little else.

[justlurkinghere]

"I'm going to start treating you like you treat your dad," Derek warned. Like he didn't consume ungodly amounts of junk food and meat when Stiles was gone.

[robinonadderall]

"You will not," he said with a wave of his hand. "My diet is great."

[justlurkinghere]

"Sure it is." He doubted it entirely. "How much ramen will I find?:

[robinonadderall]

"There's nothing wrong with ramen."

[justlurkinghere]

"We can order something," Derek said firmly. Because he judged your food choices hard, Stiles. "And I'm buying you groceries tomorrow."

That would probably go bad by his next trip in.

[robinonadderall]

"Whatever you want, dear," he teased. Focusing on his poor food choices was a lot safer topic than being shot.

[justlurkinghere]

Oh, he'd circle back to that eventually, Stiles.

He huffed at being called 'dear' because he was into it and it was rude to use against him. "You're lucky I love you," he muttered.