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READ THIS!!!!
Hi, your name is Derek and you have temporary amnesia, otherwise everything is okay.
At the moment your memory lasts until you fall asleep which is every 10 to 15 minutes or so. So you continuously keep asking the same questions.
Here is a list of your FAQs!!
Derek looked up from the list in front of him and looked about the room. There are some things you just don’t think about. Knowing your name. Knowing your past and present. Knowing you have family and friends. Your likes and dislikes. Waking up to find those things missing was beyond unsettling.
Amnesia? Really? He didn’t recognise the room at least. It was a nice room. Fancy floors. The curtains were drawn closed keeping the room dim. Probably for his sake. His head felt murky to say the least. The room wasn’t spinning but his stomach churned and felt like a train had ran over his middle. Where the hell was he?
The table in front of him was one of those ones that wheeled in over the bed he was laying in and a drip ran from the pole beside him and into his left arm. Clearly a hospital room of some sort. Fancy though, based on those floors. What kind of insurance got you a private room and fancy hospital floors? Maybe he did have amnesia. He’d forgotten he was the President or something. He grimaced and tried to recall something, anything about himself. His chest and stomach tighten. His train punched stomach churned. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.
Derek looked back at the table in front if him where the hand written list was taped to it’s surface.
1. Where am I?
You are in the hospital. Yes it’s a very nice hospital. Yes you can afford this fancy room.
2. What is wrong with me?
Your stomach hurts because you had your gallbladder removed. You had a gallstone the size of a golf ball, so it had to go. Your amnesia is a reaction to the anaesthetic which is also why you feel really foggy and keep throwing up. The Doctors say it is all temporary and will wear off.
Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Derek closed his eyes and rested his head back against the pillows. Well, that explained the aching stomach. He gently prodded where the layer of bandages was and then proceeded to bless whatever was running from that drip as he tried once again to not throw up. He ached all over. Even his ankle hurt. Derek wiggled his toes. Nope, he could feel his feet. At least they weren’t lost too. Amnesia? Are you fucking kidding me? Doesn’t that only happen in movies? The fuzziness in his head was fading in and out. He wondered if he was going to pass out again.
Something in the corner moved.
The lump of blankets on the chair in the corner most definitely moved.
The lump of blankets on the chair in the corner moved revealing a beautiful sleeping young man. Derek blinked and looked up at the drip. That stuff was good. He looked back at the man. The young man was dressed all in black and it enhanced his moonlight skin. What looked like blue paint was smattered on his shirt and jeans. His brown hair messy and spiked up like he had been running his hands through it repeatedly. A speckling of moles ran down his neck and peeked out and down his lanky but strong arms to his long fingers. Derek wanted to lick each one of them. FUCK. He could be your brother. Derek groaned again, very aware that the boner he had was now deflating and his stomach lurched.
3. AMNESIA?!?
I know, dude! It’s crazy! Doc says it happens more regularly than you think, and you have never had surgery before so none of us saw this coming.
Maybe he could just go back to sleep and all this would be over when he woke up. Though according to this list, he’d wake up and would have to do this all over again. He groaned at the thought. Derek took a long deep breath, growled, and shoved the table away in frustration. It hit the wall beside him with a bang. The beautiful man sprung up, now awake.
“Shit, Derek! You’re awake. Fuck, are you going to throw up again? Dude, you look like you’re going to throw up again.”
He didn’t even pause to breath. Glancing at Derek, then immediately looking away again, the young man ran his beautiful long fingers through his hair, flittered in all directions and spun this way and that while he continued to speak.
“Oh crap, you are totally going to throw up again, just ah.. can you not do that this time? I mean not that a person can control that kind of thing, I mean remember that time with Coach Finstock on the bus and wait of course you don’t, I mean you still don’t remember anything right? Fuck you look really pale, you are totally going to vomit…” He held one hand to his mouth and pointed the other at Derek, “I’ll… fuck. I’ll go get Danny. You, ah, you just stay there.”
The young man then run out of the room. Where did he think Derek was going to go? So. He was beautiful. And adorable. And probably related. Derek was totally going to vomit.
Fuck, don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up in front of your potential brother with his beautiful whiskey coloured Bambi eyes and a butt he wanted to just… oh god he was going to throw up. Wait, god. Derek looked up as someone else entered the room. Please don’t let me vomit in front of that hot nurse.
His nurse walked in holding an empty dish. Hot Nurse was about the same height as Bambi Eyes but much broader. He looked like a Hawaiian surfing god. His white t-shirt stretched over his chest and Derek though maybe he didn’t have amnesia. Maybe he was dead. Maybe the afterlife was a fancy floored hospital full of uncannily handsome men. Derek blinked a few times and rubbed the base of his palms against his closed eyes. When Derek opened them again, Hot Nurse was smiling at him and now had dimples. Derek glanced at the blessed drip again and gave a pleased sigh.
Dimples chuckled and collected the Table of Frustration, placing the empty dish on it, and wheeled it up to Derek again.
“Good to see you are awake again. Are you still nauseated?”
Derek was staring. Dimples. Seriously? He shook his head in answer to Dimples question. Dimples the Hot Nurse adjusted his blankets. Derek frowned and willed away another boner. Why was the universe teasing him in such a cruel manner?
Dimples chuckled again and shook his head once, “Okay, liar. Well, the dish is there if you need it. I’ll be right outside if you need me so just holler. I’m just dealing with paperwork,” he pointed to the taped list of FAQs, “I’ll be back shortly okay.”
Dimples and his equally bite-able butt then proceeded to walk out.
4. That nurse with the dimples is really hot.
He is not your nurse. That is Danny, your boyfriend. So be nice to him because he holds your hair back when you throw up because he loves you.
Dimples is his boyfriend.
Now Derek really knew he was dead. No way was that guy his boyfriend. Dimples with his smile and eyes that twinkled and abs that… Of course he isn’t a nurse, he’s probably an underwear model or something. Derek glanced at the fancy floor again. He did have this nice room, now add dimpled underwear model boyfriend. Maybe Derek really was someone important. Oh god. If Dimples was his boyfriend, Boner Bambi Eyes must really be his brother. He kicked out at his Dimple tucked blankets. Ow. Ow. Fuck. Ankle. Ow.
5. Why does my ankle hurt?
You sprained your ankle 3 days before your operation sliding into home plate because you are a stubborn ass who refuses to rest… or as you like to put it “not let the team down”.
6. I play baseball?
You play baseball and you play it very well. Turn on ESPN.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
Derek reached around for the bed control thingy that hospitals always had that usually also controlled the TV. He found it hanging by it’s wire off his bedside and reached for it as gently as possible. His abdomen hurt like crazy. He hated to think what he’d feel like if he wasn’t on the Magical Hot Guy Inducing Drip feeding into his arm. Derek click on the TV hanging in the top corner of the room. He could remember the channel number for ESPN but not who his boyfriend was. Life is so weird.
The TV came on with a click and, fuck, loud! Too loud! Derek scrambled for the volume control. His head was still fuzzy, but he wasn’t feeling as drowsy. That’s good right? The FAQ’s said he had been falling asleep every 15 minutes or so. It must have been longer than that by now. He still couldn’t remember anything, so don’t get too excited there, you big Brother Boner Popping Idiot.
“…as you can see the crowd has been growing here outside the hospital. Still no word of Derek Hale’s condition and what exactly the complications from his surgery were. Fans fearing the worst continue to bring flowers and gifts to place outside the hospital gates. While our thoughts and prayers are with the Hot New Yankee, let’s cut to some of his career highlights…”
Derek’s mind shut down. He stared through the television as it showed footage of him batting home runs FOR THE FUCKING NEW YORK YANKEES. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, his head was getting hazy again. This has to be the drugs. Nobody wakes up to discover they’re a famous baseball player with a hot dimpled boyfriend and a hot brother. Speaking of the brother…
“Hey Der-Bear, oh man you still look like shit.” Bambi Eyes tripped into the room, all arms and legs, almost going head first into the fancy floor before righting himself like it’s an everyday occurrence and something he was used to. Who does that? And how can one person be so endearing?
“Oh dude, don’t give me the eyebrows, I can’t handle the frown brows right now. I know you have no idea what’s going on but I promise we’ll be okay. You always say that’s what makes a family, always being there for each other.” He gestured from Derek to himself and then outside the door. “I’m sorry, I’m not good at this shit. I’m not proud of this but we both know I’m the one who usually needs looking after. Shit. Sorry, of course you don’t know that right now, and what a dick thing to say.” He never stood still, hands running through his hair and pulling at his shirt. He was clearly stressed and full of anxiety. “Okay, fuck. What I mean is, trust me, things will get back on track like always and the natural order of our crazy fucking lives will go back to how they should be. We’ll all get back to the house and I’ll get back to the studio and, fuck..”
When did this guy breath? Shit, he looked like he might pass out.
Derek coughed a little causing Bambi to stop mid sentence and look directly at Derek. Oh boy. Those eyes. And look at those fucking lips. Derek tried to discreetly adjust his blanket to hide what his traitor of a body had to say about the subject.
“Oh fuck Derek, I’m sorry. Stop with the brows. You’re the one in hospital. I’m sorry. I’m fine, well, I’m not fine, but if you actually remembered anything you’d know this is the longest I’ve been out of the studio in a while. Honestly you’d probably be happy…” He pulled at his black shirt again to reveal a happy trail of dark hair from his navel down into his… was that more blue paint? So cute. So adorable. Argh. He rubbed his temples again while Blue Paint Whiskey Eyed Brother continued.
“… so happy to see me outside, I’m mean I’m obviously currently inside this hospital, but I’m not inside the studio, which you would think is healthy or something, but I just want to be there right now. Not without you of course! I hate all this shit. You hate all this shit. I mean all those people outside. Blergh. I just want to go home. I just want us to go home.” Blue Paint Hot Long Fingers thumped down into the corner chair, elbows on his knees, and covered his face with his hands.
Derek frowned in confusion. Home? He lived with his brother? That’s weird isn’t it? A famous adult living with his brother? His brother let out an audible sigh and slouched back in the chair, his head leaning over the back and draping one leg over the arm rest. His long beautiful neck on display, dotted with moles and paint. Derek wanted to lick a trail down between the constellations, all the way down to his skinny black jeans that left nothing to the imagination… FUCK. You are one sick incestuous bastard. Derek groaned as his stomach turned again.
“Fuck Derek, don’t throw up. Argh, you are totally going to throw up.” With that, Mr Maybe Worth It Incest lurched from the chair, hand over his mouth and ran out of the room.
6. Who is that devilish handsome guy with the Bambi eyes that you are too scared to actually ask about because you think he might be your brother but you keep getting boners anyway?
Yeah, not your brother. He is your boyfriend. So be nice to him even though he is a sympathetic vomiter so keeps leaving the room when you vomit.
Boyfriend.
Bambi is his boyfriend.
Derek looked at the drip feed going into his arm.
Hot Dimples is his boyfriend.
Derek just sat and stared at nothing for a few moments.
“TWO BOYFRIENDS??!!!!!!”
7.TWO BOYFRIENDS??!!
Yes. You have two boyfriends. We all met in high school and have been together since. Dude, don’t question the awesomeness. Just enjoy the ride.
Okay. Okay this totally isn’t real. Famous baseball player with TWO hot boyfriends. Not real. I mean look at those fancy floors. What hospital has floor like that? None of this is real. Derek threw back the blankets and tried to get out of bed. He made it halfway before his stomach twisted in hideous pain causing Derek to actually vomit. He managed to avoid throwing up on his imaginary fancy floors and got to the dish in time but it still wasn’t pretty. Also mid vomit, Hot Boyfriend No. 1 AKA McBambi Eyes chose to walk into the room and immediately ran out again clutching his own stomach.
Derek managed to get back in bed and silently thanked who ever had left him the glass of water on his bedside table. Well that throwing up was most certainly real. So it’s real. It’s all real. His brain was going to explode. Perhaps it was just best not to think about anything for a while. He settled back into his pillows. During the Vomit Freak Out Situation, which Derek was going to pretend didn’t happen, he’d managed to bump the control thingy and change the TV channel. He looked up at the television.
Fucking fuck.
8. Why is my hot nurse on TV?
First, see Question 4. Secondly, Danny is an actor who is rather famous right now. So be nice to him.
9. Why do you keep telling me to be nice!?
Because the first few times you woke up with no memory you were also very nauseated and we didn’t have this list yet and you got grumpy and threw a kidney dish at your nurse. Your actual nurse.
Boyfriend No. 2 AKA Super Model Dimples was on his TV.
Fuck, just roll with it Derek. It was some sort of talk show and Danny was telling the host some story that was making everyone laugh. Are his eyes actually twinkling? How is this guy real?
There was a quiet knock and then How Could He Be Real Guy walked into the room to his side. He gave Derek a small smile, took his vomit dish into the small attached bathroom. Derek could hear the water running for a moment, then Danny returned with the dish, now clean, and a small wet wash cloth. He placed the cool wet cloth on Derek’s forehead and took Derek’s drip free hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth. Derek felt the tension start to leave his body.
“Don’t worry, Der. I know all this has got to be really weird. Stiles said you have stayed awake for a while now so that’s good. Plus you haven’t thrown any kidney dishes so that’s got to be a good sign.” He winked. Actually winked. “I’m sure your memory will come back soon too.”
Derek gripped Danny’s hand in return. He didn’t want Danny to let go. He looked at that those dark eyes and those heart melting dimples and asked, “What’s a Stiles?”
Danny laughed. It was a sight to behold. No wonder he was famous. Derek could see it now. How could you not be in love with this guy? Derek lifted Danny’s hand to the side of his neck. It felt natural and grounding to have Danny’s fingers run through the base of his head, and a thumb run gently along Derek’s jaw. He smelled like summer and apples.
Danny smiled even brighter, “A Stiles is currently what’s throwing up in the bathroom next door.” Danny looked down at the list taped to the table. “Did he neglect to add his name to your FAQ’s?” Danny Loved By The World shook his head and chuckled warmly. “He is constant trouble, I’ll tell you that, but we love him anyway.”
Derek chuckled a little himself and then groaned in pain as his cut up, stitch ridden abdomen shook. Danny sat on the edge of the bed and started running his fingers through Derek’s hair. Derek closed his eyes and let Sunshine Dimples’ fingers and voice sooth him.
“You had us really worried there for a bit. Stiles kept going on about how Andy Warhol died of complications from gallbladder surgery and while I know our dear love is known to hyperbolise, he just kept going on and on about it. So I Googled it and it’s actually true. But anyway, Stiles also stayed awake all night researching and learning everything he could about your surgery so he could annoy all your doctors with a million questions. I keep seeing them duck and hide behind corners when they see him coming now. Knowing Stiles is around causing his usual chaos and not curled up in a ball refusing to leave the studio made me realised I didn’t need to worry. He’s away from his studio and hasn’t painted in a few days, but I think it’s good he’s outside you know. Well, he’s inside this hospital, but outside the studio, so I think that’s good. I told him the coffee machine on this floor was broken so that helped him finally get some sleep.”
Derek wanted Danny to kiss him.
Danny’s eyes widened. “Oh boy. Stop it with the eyebrows. I promise I really want to kiss you, really I do, but Stiles would kill me if I did. You know, ability to consent and you with your no memories and all that… speak of the devil.”
Stiles came barreling in with two paper cups of what smelt like coffee.
“Danny, you beautiful but lying bastard. That coffee machine works perfectly fine! I made three to check!” He placed one cup on the List Table and cupped the second in both hands like it was a gift from The Gods.
Danny smirked, “I regret nothing. Wait, three? You only have two.”
Stiles drank half the coffee and placed it next to the other on the table, then sat and shimmied up behind Danny on the bed, wrapping one arm around Danny, started what appeared to be, unconsciously massaging Derek’s thigh. He hooked his chin over Danny’s shoulder, wiggled his eyebrows and said “I already drank one.”
For the first time since he had woken up, Derek felt relaxed. He closed his eyes. He could feel Danny’s hand still in his hair and Stiles’ on his thigh. Their weight at his side on the bed. It felt normal. Comforting. Like everything was as it should be now that the three of them were all together. The fuzz in his head was now a soft muffle and he could feel himself drifting off to sleep.
“I almost stacked it on the way here too. Almost lost all the coffee everywhere! Gave me an idea for a new painting though. All thanks to slippery floors!”
Keeping his eyes closed, Derek snorted and muttered “Stupid Fancy Floors.”
The amazing sound of Stiles laughing with his whole body had Derek opening his eyes again, “What?”
Danny tapped an item at the bottom of the FAQs list.
10. Holy shit these floors are fancy for a hospital room!
Yeah, dude. I don’t know what your fascination with the floor is but you’ve said that about 800 times.
Stiles laughed so hard he fell off the bed onto said fancy floor. Danny, looking down at Stiles, went full dimple. Derek’s heart swelled.
11. REALLY TWO BOYFRIENDS?!!
Yes. Really.
