Aria barely caught him before he hit the ground—his blood soaked into her clothing as she cradled him against her chest.
His breathing was ragged—shallow—but his eyes made her panic.
"No.... Derek no.... Open your eyes...." Aria cried out in agony.
Derek's eyelids fluttered weakly—his breathing ragged, shallow. Blood seeped from the deep gashes across his chest, staining Aria's hands crimson as she held him.
His lips twitched—just slightly—as if he wanted to smile but couldn't find the strength.
"Aria…"
His voice was barely a whisper—rough with pain, but soft with something deeper.
"You did it…"
His hand trembled as he lifted it—just enough to brush his fingers against her cheek.
"You saved us all…"
His fingers slipped—falling limp against her skin—as his eyes drifted shut.
Aria's breath hitched—her grip tightening around him.
"No—NO!"
Her voice cracked—raw with desperation—as she pressed her forehead against his.
"You don't get to leave me…"
"Not now…"
"Not ever."
Her tears fell—hot against his skin—as she clung to him.
"Derek… please…"
"Open your eyes."
"Look at me."
"Just one more time…"
"Please."
The battlefield was silent—no crows, no wind, no sound but her ragged sobs.
And then—
A weak cough.
Derek's fingers twitched against her wrist—just barely—but enough.
His eyes cracked open—amber flickering like a dying flame—but still there.
Still his.
"Always…"
He rasped—voice broken but alive.
"Always yours…"
Aria choked on a sob—half laugh, half cry—as she pulled him closer.
"Damn right,"
She whispered—pressing her lips to his forehead.
"Always mine."
But even as sweet as Derek's words sounded, it wasn't reassuring at all as a tear rolled down Aria's cheek and splashed on Derek's bottom lip.
Derek winced—lifting one trembling hand to brush away the tear—leaving a streak of blood on her cheek.
"Shh…"
He murmured quietly.
"Don't cry. It's… gonna be alright…"
His words were weak, but his fingers were gentle as they tucked a strand of Aria's hair behind her ear.
Aria buries her face into the folds of his ripped, blood smeared shirt. Sobbing uncontrollably as many feet inched closer. "What can I do to help you?" Aria whispered her question into the folds.
Derek's breath hitched as he felt her trembling against him—her sobs muffled by his bloodied shirt. He lifted a shaky hand, pressing it weakly against the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair.
"Just… stay here," he whispered, voice fraying at the edges.
"Don't let go…"
A soft groan escaped him as pain flared through his chest—but still, he forced his eyes open to look at her—really look.
"You already did everything…"
His thumb brushed over her temple—smearing a tear with blood-stained skin.
"You broke his power… you saved us all…"
He coughed—a thin line of crimson tracing down his chin.
"Now just… let me rest in your arms."
Suddenly, Scott dropped to one knee beside them, face pale but determined.
"We need to get him out of here—now," Scott said urgently, scanning the wounds.
Stiles stood behind him—heavy bat still in hand—the bravado gone from his voice.
"Yeah. Derek? Hang on. We're not losing you tonight."
Derek didn't answer—at least not with words.
Instead… he gave Aria's shoulder the faintest squeeze—as if to say: I'm not done yet.
"Do you lot know of anything that could help, even if only until Lydia gets here?" Scott asked as he looked from Paul, to Jacob and then turning his eyes from the Salvatore brothers to the Cullens, hoping someone knows something.
Scott doesn't know that there's a doctor amongst the Cullens.
Jasper crouched beside them—a calm authority in his gaze and tone that commanded attention.
"Let me see."
Aria turned her attention towards Jasper, looking at him pleadingly. In that moment Carlisle joined Jasper too in a crouched position beside Derek.
Both Jasper and Carlisle assessed the wounds with practiced ease, their eyes sweeping for the most critical damage.
Carlisle shifted, examining the gash along Derek's chest.
"We need to stop the bleeding. Now."
"Paul. Sam. Jacob." Carlisle points out in turn. "You two," he pointed to the Salvatore brothers. "Emmett. Edward. Help us to get him off the ground. He might not survive it long enough for him to see the inside of an ambulance." Carlisle barked orders.
Sam, Paul, and Jacob stepped forward, preparing to lift Derek from Aria's arms. Emmett and Edward moved to their side, helping to carefully move him off the ground. And towards the cabin.
"Keep pressure on the wound. We have to slow the bleeding as much as possible." Carlisle instructed them, his voice even yet urgent.
"Alice. Bella. Rosalie. Calm Aria down, and get her clean up. Everyone else help where you can assist," Carlisle ordered.
Alice, Bella, and Rosalie stepped forward—soft but firm—as they gently pulled Aria away from Derek's side. She resisted at first, fingers clutching the edge of his shirt.
"No—wait—I need to be with him!" Aria cried, her voice cracking under the weight of fear.
Rosalie knelt in front of her, hands on her shoulders, voice steady but kind.
"Aria. Carlisle is one of the best there is. He's going to do everything he can for Derek."
Bella took Aria's blood-stained hand gently.
"And you can't help him like this," she said softly. "You need to breathe. You need to be strong—for when he wakes up and sees you."
Alice offered a small smile—a rare glimmer in the chaos—and held out a clean white towel and fresh clothes wrapped in plastic.
"C'mon," she whispered, tugging Aria gently by the wrist. "Let us take care of you while they take care of him."
Aria looked back one last time—the image seared into her mind: Derek being carried inside by silent men, blood trailing behind them like a dark promise.
Her legs gave in.
But Alice caught her before she fell.
And then—
She let herself be led away—toward warmth, toward light… toward anything that wasn't that terrible silence where love hung by a thread.