"Dean was killing vampires and I - ow." He jerks when the alcohol touches his wounds, hissing through his teeth. Stinging antiseptic isn't something he's used to. "I know Dean, alright? We kind of had a fight club thing in an alley to keep him from going into a BDSM club because he's dating a fallen angel now." Christ, this city is weird. Derek's woozy and out of it enough that he rambles, not bothering to censor the truth. He doesn't feel like he needs to hide it. "So we punched each other a lot so his boyfriend, Castiel the angel, wouldn't get upset. Did you know that Darrow has a BDSM club? Never go there."

He winces again and doesn't bother telling Stiles that this is probably pointless. If it makes him feel better, he can sting the fuck out of Derek. "I was on a run and I heard him, and he was in some abandoned warehouse taking on a dozen vampires because apparently they were draining teenagers. Teenagers, okay?"

He turns to look at Stiles after the last bit, sighing softly. "I won't die. I wouldn't leave you." He swallows and gives him a stern look. "But you can't die either, so if something is killing off your demographic, I'm taking it out."