pain.

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Derek fell to the floor with an unexpected jolt.

"Derek!" Delilah whined with obvious concern.

He pulled his sluggish eyes open and attempted to focus them in the unfamiliar room.

A woman stood closely beside Delilah and tightened her hand onto her shoulder. She was preventing her from coming to him. If his body didn't already feel like dead weight, this woman's throat would be painted across the floor. Nobody kept Delilah from him.

Nobody.

He snarled at the woman as he tried to pull himself to his feet. His limbs would not cooperate and he only landed back against the hardwood floor. 

"Awake or asleep, wolf?" The woman asked with out expression.

Derek didn't understand what she was saying. He could only focus on the hand holding Delilah tightly into place and the whimper quietly leaving her body.

"Get your hands off her," he said with groggy slur to his words.

The woman looked undeterred by his antics. He was as threatening as kitten.

"I'll ask again, wolf, awake or asleep?"

Derek closed his eyes tightly as he fought back a pounding head ache between his eyes. He opened them slowly and looked at his hands to count his fingers.

He sighed inwardly with disappointment in himself, he had never seen his fingers in his dream, he had only allowed Delilah or what he thought was Delilah count them for him. It was stupid, incredibly so, especially when Lydia had been so specific with her precautions.

In his defense he truly thought he was awake. Obviously as he held the correct number of fingers in front of face how, that wasn't the case until now.

"Awake?' He answered with only the slightest bit of question to his voice. The woman gave him a pointed stare, waiting for an actual confirmation. He counted his fingers one more time to be 100% sure. "Yes, definitely awake."

The woman released her hold on Delilah and watched as the smaller woman quickly flung herself into Derek's arms. He attempted to hold her tightly but his arms weren't fully cooperating. Instead they clung to each other awkwardly on the floor next to the couch.

And in that moment nothing mattered as Delilah's face was pressed tightly into his neck and his nose was buried securely into her hair.

Fresh violets. Home. Safe.

He stayed there and ignored everything else in the room as he tried to take large lungs full of air. This Delilah felt real. She smelt real. Her heart beat sounded real, not like the fucked up version of her that his brain had conjured. He lifted his hand from behind Delilah's back and counted each finger one more time.

Ten. Five on each hand. No more, no less.

Delilah sniffled under his chin and he brought his hands down to wrap tighter around her waist. She wouldn't be going anywhere, not for a while at least. Delilah needed a moment, just as much as he did and he would give her as long as her heart desired.

The woman watched him with scrutinizing eyes as he placed a lingering kiss to Delilah's forehead when she turned slightly to graze her nose across the stubble on his cheek.

"Mind telling me what's going on?" He asked softly as he adjusted Delilah in his hold and wrapped one of her curls securely around his finger.

"You fell asleep." Delilah answered him with her hands digging forcefully into his back. She almost appeared afraid he would vanish before his eyes. "While you were driving," she clarified.

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