Title – I Would (And Did) Take A Bullet For You
Author – Moonbeam
Rating – Teen (because of some swearing)
Warnings – Nothing
Summary – Derek Hale is Prince Stiles Stilinksi's bodyguard. Then he gets shot and things change between them.
Disclaimer – Don't own this show or the characters – just Netflix, DVDs, and a highly suggestive brain.
Author's Notes – Okay, so this is not me finishing my WIPs, this is me being easily lead by my muse down the rosy path to doom. I have to say I'm pretty baffled by this – it was going to just be a Derek gets shot and Stiles snogged him fit and now it's much longer.
I suck at summaries…

I Would (And Did) Take A Bullet For You
by Moonbeam

"Your Royal Highness," Derek said, inclining his head towards Prince Stiles.

"Derek," the younger man said with a huff. "It's Stiles."

"It's Your Royal Highness," Derek corrected, eyes darting around the courtyard. "Until you ascend the throne and it becomes Your Majesty."

Stiles grimaced. "I've told you – never talk about me ascending. I refuse to think about it."

Derek understood – all too well, the terror of thinking about your only remaining family dying. "Of course."

"One day," Stiles said, with a smirk, "I am going to get you to call me Stiles."

"As you wish," the words as close to not addressing Prince Stiles as Your Royal Highness, that Derek could allow himself.

"Right," Stiles said, adjusting the deep, forest green uniform jacket. "Let's get this show on the road."

"We are waiting for His Majesty," Derek said, watching the way Stiles fidgeted in the uniform. It was unusual – normally, when Stiles was wearing it he had the stiff, immovable posture of a soldier – something he had been training himself to do for three years. But now, standing in the courtyard of his family's main residence he looked uncomfortable to be dressed as his title, and hard work, dictated he should. Derek had been guarding His Royal Highness Prince Przemysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, the Prince of Beacon Hills, Lord of the Valleys, Earl of Signal Hill, and High Steward of California, for the last four years – since his time at university. Derek had seen a vast array of changes in the younger man but there was a sadness to him since he had returned from 'active' deployment with his Air Force unit.

"Right, waiting for Dad," Stiles said, rubbing a hand through his hair, tugging slightly on the longer strands.

Derek wanted to ask him what was wrong, he wanted to offer himself as a person that…Stiles…Prince Stiles could talk to but that was not his place. He could not offer comfort, he could not offer companionship or friendship, he could offer nothing but a solemn promise to step between His Royal Highness and anyone or anything that wished to do him harm. So, Derek stood resolute and immobile next to Prince Stiles – offering him the only form of comfort he could – his dependability.

Moments later, His Royal Highness, King Samuel, walked from the building, his own private guards Chris Argent and Derek's own uncle, Peter Hale, flanking him.

"Ready, Stiles?" the King asked.

"Sure, Dad, let's go." Stiles said, fidgeting again.

The King and Prince slid into the car, Chris Argent sliding into the driver's seat next to Derek, as they drove out of the Palace grounds and towards Parliament House. It would be Prince Stiles' first official duty since his retirement from the Armed Forces, to open the first session of the Senate while the King opened the session for the House of Representatives. Derek's eyes flicked across the crowds as they drove the small distance between the Palace and the Houses of Parliament; he could see the rest of the Kingsguard standing along the route but he could not relax while Prince Stiles was his responsibility.

The official duties happened without issue, as they should, and Derek slid back into the car with a happy sigh. As soon as they were back in the Palace grounds Derek followed Stiles upstairs and turned his back to Stiles' bedroom door while the Prince stepped into the room and changed out of his uniform. Moments later, the door opened behind Derek and Prince Stiles walked out wearing a thin red hoodie and running pants.

"Your Highness?"

"We're going for a run, go change."

"As you wish."

Derek left Prince Stiles and changed into workout clothes, calling up Erica for backup – Stiles tended to like to use the public parks when he ran rather than the palace's grounds. Erica was waiting for them by the front door as soon as Derek made it there and after a quick warm-up Erica was trailing behind them as Derek ran at Stiles' side. As they slid into Wolf Park, one of the larger parks in the city, Derek dropped back and swapped positions with Erica; one of their methods for keeping fresh when they were out.

Derek isn't sure how things would have worked out if they hadn't switched positions. He's not all that sure if Erica would have done the same thing he did. As they were crossing the lake in the middle of the park he saw the group – three guys. He spotted the unmistakable bulge of a gun under one of their jackets. There wasn't another option though – they could either jump into the lake or continue running. Derek pulled up close to Stiles' back and kept the three in his periphery until they had passed safely through the lake area.

Derek relaxed minutely once they were through the park and running down one of the trails that backed onto the central city area. From here they were a street away from the banking district. Derek wasn't expecting anything to happen as he and Erica switched positions again but just as they were both flanking Stiles they heard the sirens. Then Derek saw them – large duffle bag in hand and a semi-automatic in the large ones hands. The smaller one – probably a woman from her shape, looked at them and immediately lifted her gun. Derek didn't really think as he grabbed Stiles' elbow, twisting the slighter man behind him.

"Stop!" The smaller of the five people yelled – definitely female.

"Freeze," a voice said behind them. Derek didn't bother turning around, he just pushed the Prince along, keeping his body between everyone and Prince Stiles. He trusted Erica to be on the Prince's other side but he wasn't taking any chances and he couldn't get to his ankle holster without exposing the Prince.

"Drop your weapons," the voice to Derek's right said again but Derek still couldn't chance taking his eyes off the five masked figures that were still looking at Stiles like he was their ticket out of this situation.

"Sheriff's department," Stiles provided. "There's a wall three feet behind us. If we can get there the-Derek!"

Derek felt the bullet pierce his shoulder just as the semi-automatic gunfire started sounding. He had no choice, he turned his back on everything that was happening, grabbed the Prince and made a frantic dash for the half wall that Prince Stiles had been talking about. He got the Prince down below the wall and tried to stand up once he had his hand on his weapon but Prince Stiles kept pulling him off balance each time he got his feet under him.

"Stop," Prince Stiles said frantically. "You're bleeding. Let the sheriff's department handle it."

"I'm fine," Derek said, checking his weapon. He crowded Prince Stiles back into the wall, making sure that everything was covered by his body or Erica's. "Reyes, what can you see?"

"Big and tall is still shooting, the woman is down, two of them are hanging back but the medium sized one – I'd say the leader, is keeping them pinned with the semi-automatic."

"If we're doing this," Prince Stiles cut in. "Then give me a goddamn gun."

"I'm not giving you a gun," Derek said, blinking through the sudden rush of light-headedness. "Your only job is to stay down."

"I'm not allowed a gun," Prince Stiles said, still trying to get a good hold on Derek's shoulder so that he could apply pressure. "But, you are losing a blood fast and can still have one?"

"You're my responsibility," Derek reminded him, pushing the Prince's hands off and then peeking above the wall. "I'll take out the leader. One shot to his arm. Erica, cover the Prince."

"Right," Erica agreed.

Derek nodded and stood, lining up and shooting. The man dropped the semi-automatic and turned to look at Derek. Derek only had a moment to think before the knife was flying through the air and imbedded in his chest.

"Fuck, Derek!" Hands yanked Derek down to the ground, cradling him and pressing down on his shoulder wound. "You couldn't just let the sheriff's department take care of it?"

"No," Derek said, trying to move so that he was covering the Prince again.

"Dammit, Derek," Prince Stiles said, pushing him down. "The sheriff's department is cuffing them, Erica is watching me, now let me apply pressure."

"Not until you're safe," Derek told him, trying to get his feet under him. He yanked Prince Stiles' hoodie back up over his head – to hide his face.

"You," Prince Stiles said, standing up and waving over one of the deputies. "Come here."

The deputy walked over, flanked on either side by two deputies with their weapons out.

"You need to drop your weapons," one of the deputies demanded.

"No," Derek disagreed. "You need to call the palace. Get the Kingsguard out here, immediately."

"The Kingsguard?" The deputy asked.

Prince Stiles threw the hoodie that had been hiding him off his head and looked directly at the deputy. "Because I am Prince Stiles. Call for an ambulance immediately; before you do anything else. And Derek will never put down his weapon until I'm not here."

The deputy looked at his companions and one immediately darted away while the remaining fpur formed a line in front of Prince Stiles. Stiles turned his back on them and immediately started putting pressure on Derek's shoulder wound again. Derek knew he was close to passing out, he could feel the world slipping away but he couldn't let the darkness take him. He focussed on Stiles' face, Erica's blonde hair in sight behind him.

What felt like moments later, Stiles was yanked out of Derek's vision. Derek launched himself up, ignoring the tearing pain in his shoulder and chest.

He caught sight of Boyd, tall and completely stoic, as he bundled Prince Stiles into the car. Then Erica was standing in front of Derek and holding onto him. She leaned forward into his space. "Prince Stiles is safe."

Derek couldn't remember anything else until he woke up later in a hospital room.

"Commander Hale," the nurse standing over him said.

"Pr…Prince Stiles?"

The nurse nodded. "According to the news you saved his life and he's at the Palace."

Derek nodded and rested back, the world fading from him again.

There were two guards stationed at the entrance to his room when Derek woke again. One of them smiled at him when he woke but neither of them walked over – they knocked on the door and it opened, Boyd walking into the room and straight over to Derek's bedside.

"Boyd."

"Hale," Boyd responded.

"What happened?"

Boyd dropped a thick envelope on the table near Derek's knees and then clasped his hands behind his back. "Bank robbery. The group – they call themselves the Alpha Pack, which is creepy and ridiculous. The group has been robbing museums, banks, galleries, and other high yield targets throughout the continent. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kali, the one who shot you recognised Stiles and thought shooting him would distract the sheriff's department's deputies long enough for them to get away."

"Good, they got them all?"

"Yes," Boyd nodded. "And the sheriff's department will not be pressing charges against you for shooting one of the thieves – their ringleader; a man named Deucalion."

"That's good."

"Yes, it is. If they had have pressed charges that would be the end of your time in the Kingsguard."

Derek looked at his shoulder. "I doubt I'll get back in given where I was shot."

Boyd nodded. "I'll inform the doctors you're awake. I shouldn't have come in first but I knew you'd want to be sure Prince Stiles was safe."

"Thank you."

Boyd nodded and started for the door. "His Royal Highness asked to be informed when you woke up so that he could visit."

"There's no need," Derek told him.

"I will of course pass on that message to Prince Stiles. We will be bringing him in tomorrow."

Derek sighed and waited for the doctor to come in and tell him what he already knew – the wound on his shoulder was unlikely to heal completely. He fazed in and out a little after that. He'd seen wounds like his when he'd been in the Royal Navy – shoulders were tricky and so rarely healed fully. The doctor wrapped a hand around his wrist to bring him back to the present.

"Do you have any questions?"

Derek shook his head. "I'm sure I will later."

The doctor nodded and left him mostly alone in the room – the two guards still standing vigil.

The next day, as expected, Stiles arrived at his hospital room as soon as visiting hours started.

"Your Royal Highness," Derek said, when Stiles froze in the doorway.

Stiles frowned at him and then turned to Erica. "I want to see his doctor."

"Of course," Erica said, smiling at Derek with a quirked eyebrow before she turned and went to fetch the doctor.

Stiles licked his lips nervously and walked towards Derek. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

Stiles rolled his eyes violently.

Moments later the doctor, a different one to the one Derek had spoken to yesterday, stepped into the room. "Your Majesty."

"How is Derek?"

The doctor's eyes flickered to Derek and for a moment Derek was tempted to tell her not to tell him anything but he knew the Prince and he would find out anyway. "It's fine. I missed most of what the doctor yesterday said."

She nodded and grabbed his chart from the wall next to the door. "Right, would you like me to cover everything then?"

Derek looked at Erica who cleared the other Kingsguard from the room and then came back in. He didn't expect her to leave – Prince Stiles was in the room with a strange doctor and there was no chance that Erica would leave the room. She shouldn't have really told the other Kingsguard to leave even if they were in a military hospital.

"Yes," Derek said, nodding at her.

"You were taken directly into surgery; the knife wound was largely superficial having not penetrated past the main muscle band. There is some damage to the muscle of course but it has not damaged the diaphragm and no organs were damaged. The gunshot wound however-"

"I know," Derek said, not wanting to hear it again.

The doctor nodded.

"What?" Prince Stiles asked, looking between them. "What about your shoulder?"

Derek looked past Stiles. "Damage to the rotator cuff, major muscle damage, possible nerve damage, and it's likely that I will never regain full function of my shoulder." Derek let his eyes flick past Stiles and back to the doctor. "Did I miss anything?"

"No," she said. "There is some bruising and lacerations on your body from the fight or fall. They are superficial and should heal in the next week to ten days. The knife wound will take up to three months to heal though the muscle location and the frequency of use may mean there will be pain for six to nine months. The shoulder will require physical therapy for at least six months to a year."

"When can I be discharged?" Derek asked.

"We want to keep you under observation for at least a few days."

Derek nodded. "Thank you."

"Yes," Prince Stiles said, his voice a little off, "thank you, Doctor Rogers, for everything you've done for Derek."

She smiled. "Your Majesty, your welcome. Commander Hale, do you have any other questions?"

"No, thanks."

She smiled at them both and left the room, Erica moving so that she could pass.

"Derek," Prince Stiles said, moving over to stand at his bedside. "I'm so sorry."

"About what?" Derek asked, still trying not to look directly at Prince Stiles.

The Prince was having none of it; he forced himself into Derek's eye line. "I'm sorry about your shoulder. I'm sorry that you're hurt because of me."

"It was worth it. I'll heal up just fine," Derek lied.

"Worth it?" Stiles asked, voice a little hollow.

"You're safe," Derek told him.

"That doesn't make it worth it."

"Yes it does," and this time Derek certainly didn't need to lie. A shoulder that was never going to quite be what it was, was a small price to pay for S-Prince Stiles' life and health. Derek might have no idea what he was going to do now but he was certainly never going to regret putting himself between his Prince and danger. He may regret not being able to continue doing so now that he was going to be discharged however.

Prince Stiles looked at him with sad eyes for several long seconds and then he stepped away.

"Your Royal Highness?"

"I should let you rest," Prince Stiles said in a rush, looking at Derek but not actually looking at him. "Take care of yourself."

"Of course."

"Please, Derek, I know you hate being taken care of but let them," Prince Stiles said, looking at him firmly in the eye.

"As you wish."

Stiles beamed at him. "I'll come see you soon. And I'll talk to Doctor Deaton about the best physical therapists and other people to help you."

"I will be fine with the doctors that the Kingsguard have."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I'm sure they are very good, but you will have the best, Derek."

"You don't need to do that."

"That's a complete lie," Prince Stiles said, wrapping a hand around Derek's arm. "I wish I could do more."

"I'm going to be just fine," Derek told him. "This was always a possibility."

Stiles took a sudden step back and Derek's arm felt cold without his touch. "I'm going to leave so you can rest."

"Okay, goodbye Your Royal Highness. Thank you for visiting."

"I'll see you soon, Derek."

Stiles left and the two guards returned to their posts.

-)(-)(-

Stiles threw open the door to his father's office and stalked over to the chairs. Prime Minister Parrish was staring at him.

"Parrish," Stiles said, head inclined to the other man. "I need to speak to Dad."

"Stiles," the King started. "I'm in an important meeting."

"This is more important."

The King rubbed a tired hand down his face and smiled at the Prime Minister. "Jordan, I am very sorry about this. Would you mind giving me a minute?"

"Of course, Your Majesty, I'll go outside and wait. Your Highness," Parrish said, inclining his head as he walked past Stiles.

"Stiles," the King started, "you cannot just-"

"No," Stiles said flopping down into the chair in front of the desk, then standing again almost immediately. "We have to fire Derek. No, not fire Derek because then he'll just go somewhere else and get shot for someone else."

"What?"

"I went to see Derek today," Stiles explained.

"I know."

"Do you know that he may lose the full use of his arm? Do you know that he said it was worth it? Worth it! He thinks it was worth being unable to lift his arm above his shoulder for the rest of his life because I'm safe."

"It is his job," the King pointed out, his fingers steepled on the desk.

Stiles gaped at his father. "He was shot! And the person who shot him wasn't even there to shoot me."

"But she would have, I've seen the footage. She would have shot you and Derek was appointed as your personal Kingsguard. He took on the role knowing that he might one day have to take a bullet and I'm sure that he would gladly do it again."

"That's not good enough. He can't get hurt again. I refuse to ever see him in another hospital room because of me."

"And what of Boyd? Or Erica? What if it was them instead?"

Stiles gaped at his father for a moment.

"I don't want anyone to get shot for me."

The King smiled. "But, mainly it's the fact that Derek was hurt."

"I like Derek, he's grumpy and gruff and he refuses to stop calling me Your Royal Highness but he'll tell me as you wish, and smirk at me. He shouldn't have been shot."

The King sighed and shook his head. "He says as you wish?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever seen The Princess Bride?"

"No," Stiles said, confused. "Does that sound like my kind of movie?"

The King started to laugh, loud, bellowing guffaws from his very toes.

"Dad?"

His father continued to laugh, mostly ignoring Stiles' attempts to get his attention.

"Fine!" Stiles said, folding his arms across his chest and waiting the King out.

"Right," the King said, still chuckling quietly. "You want to fire Derek for taking a bullet for you?"

"No, I want to reassign him to a job where he never gets shot."

"So, I could ask if Melissa could use him in her court. No one gets shot there."

"No," Stiles argued. "I'm not going to send him to another Kingdom."

"You see Prince Scott all the time, it won't be that different."

"But, something here would be better."

The King nodded. "Derek Hale is a decorated member of the Royal Navy, served in the Royal Marines, and made a decision to serve his country by protecting the Royal family, namely you. Do you think that he would accept a token position in the place of following his chosen career path?"

Stiles deflated. "We could bribe him with lots of money."

"Or you could just tell him how you feel and see if he'd be willing to be a little more cautious in the future."

"What?"

"Stiles, I know you have feelings for Derek. He's always been professional and you're more manageable when he's the one managing you. If his arm is really going to be affected for the rest of his life his duty is no longer an issue. Go, tell him how you feel and see what he has to say."

"Dad…"

The King shook his head. "I don't think Lady Lydia is ever going to come around."

"I haven't liked her like that in ages."

"Which is how I knew you had feelings for Derek. Slowly, so slowly it took me a while to work it out; you stopped talking about Lydia and started talking to Derek, and about Derek. Queen Melissa and I have a bet going."

"You're trying to rig it."

"No," the King said, shaking his head. "I'm going to lose. But, I want you to be happy."

"He's not noble."

King Samuel shrugged. "No, but he cares about you and he's useless at politics so he's going to be a wonderful consort."

"We don't even know if he likes me."

The King started to laugh again. "I need…to call Mel."

"Dad?"

"Go Netflix The Princess Bride and you'll understand."

Stiles sighed at his father's utterly unhelpful suggestion and stood up. "I'll send Parrish back in."

"Please do."

Stiles left the office and pulled out his mobile to call Lydia.

"Stiles?"

"I need to know about The Princess Bride."

"Why?"

"Because my dad told me to watch it so I'd understand why he was laughing at me. There were tears in his eyes he was laughing so hard."

Lydia chuckled. "He finally heard about Derek's little as you wish trick."

"What the ever-loving fuck is the deal with this as you wish thing. He only does it so he doesn't have to actually say Your Royal Highness all the time."

"Oh, Stiles."

Stiles grit his teeth. "Right, tell me what the hell is going on?"

"I'll be there in forty minutes. I want to see your face. Do not even think about googling until I get there."

"See you then," Stiles said into the silence at the other end – Lydia had already hung up.

Lydia arrived a little more than thirty minutes later with a DVD and a bag of popcorn. Her personal guard – Allison Argent smiled at him and then slipped off with the bag of popcorn. She returned a few minutes later followed by one of the royal housekeepers bearing a tray with popcorn and drinks on it.

"Thank you, Steve," Stiles said, handing Lydia a drink.

"Your Highness," Steve said with a smile before he left them.

"So, what's the big deal about this movie?"

Allison and Lydia looked at one another and then the redhead pressed play.

Fifteen minutes later, Stiles was grabbing his jacket and storming out of the palace with Boyd and Erica trailing behind him – scrambling to inform all the necessary people about Stiles' impromptu journey.

"You utter assbutt," Stiles said, stalking into Derek's room and past the frowning guards.

"Your Royal Highness," Derek said, struggling to sit up.

"Don't you, Your Royal Highness me, you painful, obfuscating…stop trying to sit up, you got shot." Stiles pressed his hand into the hot, bare flesh of Derek's good shoulder.

"What's going on, Your Royal Highness?"

Stiles glared at him, huffing gruffly. "I know what you've been doing and you're so fired. So, so fired." Derek gaped at him and Stiles threw up his hand placatingly. "Only you're not actually fired, you're just kind of fired."

Derek frowned at him. "Your-"

Stiles growled at him. "You have been lying to me for years."

"What?"

"As you wish? As you fucking wish! Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Just so we're clear. I dislike you very much right now. I'm also super mad at you for getting shot for me. I'm going to make sure you get as much movement back in your shoulder as possible. And I'm in love with you too."

"Stiles?" Derek froze, his face flushing. "Prince…Your Royal…"

"Stiles," Stiles told him, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to Derek's bruised cheek. "You are going to call me Stiles from now on."

A throat cleared behind them and Stiles twisted around to see the two guards still standing by the doorway looking very uncomfortable.

"You can wait outside." Stiles said, waving at them. "I am actually capable of taking care of myself."

"No," Derek said firmly. "He's your main priority."

"If you will excuse me saying so, Commander Hale," one of the guards – a younger man named…Liam, said. "But we really don't need to be here for this."

"You can wait outside," Stiles told them. "I will protect Commander Hale while I'm here."

"I-" Derek started.

"No," Stiles said, holding up a hand behind his back to Derek. "I'm giving you a direct order that will in no way put me in danger. Go outside and flirt with a cute nurse. Commander Hale and I are going to have a little chat."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," they both said, saluting with a sharp flick before they left the room.

"You shouldn't have done that," Derek said.

"You know I find them saying Your Royal Highness much less objectionable than when you used to do it."

"I'm not going to stop."

"Of course you are," Stiles said, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed, near Derek's hip.

Derek shook his head. "I'm not-"

Stiles sighed. "You can't tell me you don't love me. You've been Westley-ing me for almost two years."

Derek groaned.

"And you can't claim you're too sick to have this conversation."

Derek glared at him. "You have to understand that this is-"

"…going to be amazing. I'm going to help you get better and then we are going to take a holiday somewhere beautiful and secluded and not see a thing while we have a heap of sex."

Derek flushed.

"Then we're going to have a long talk about you never getting shot for me again because I'm a fucking adult who was in the Air Force and they actually taught me to fight."

"I'm never going to let you get shot if I can take the bullet instead, Stiles."

Stiles beamed at him. "You called me Stiles."

Derek huffed.

"No one is going to want to shoot me."

"There are always fanatics out there. And if it's not because you're royalty it could be the fact you're bisexual, or the fact that I'm just-"

"Perfect, so write a list of the reasons this can't work. Then I'll explain why you're wrong for each one and we'll get this conversation over once and for all. Then you can kiss me properly."

"You're not going to kiss me?" Derek asked, the words slipping out without him really intending to say them. He did refrain from grimacing at the disappointment dripping from the words.

Stiles shook his head. "Nope, we're going to do this properly when you're not trying to convince me this is a terrible idea. I want you to kiss me because you're completely in this relationship so I'm going to wait. For now, I'm just going to sit here and we're going to play gin rummy."

"You hate it when I win."

"Who said you were going to win?" Stiles asked, pulling a deck of cards from his pocket.

"I always win," Derek told him, struggling to sit up.

The End