Work Text:
Sterek || TW || Sterek || TW || Sterek || Spinthíras || Sterek || TW || Sterek || TW || Sterek
Title: Spinthíras – Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2024
TW Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Jeff Davis and MTV. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.
Warnings: m/m, Pack Mom Stiles, Spark Stiles, magic, mates, m/f
Main Pairing: Sterek
Side Pairings: Scott/Allison, Jackson/Lydia, Boyd/Erica
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Peter Hale
Writer's Pride Month Bingo Prompt: turquoise/magic
Summary: Stiles never thought much about this whole 'Spark' thing, until him and Scott actually joined the Hale Pack, for good, and he felt like he needed to contribute more to the pack, tired of feeling useless. So he starts researching to find out what exactly a Spark even is.
Spinthíras
Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2024
"Lydia! Love of my life!"
Stiles had been over Lydia for months at this point, but whenever he called her that, it pissed off Jackson and though they were now in the same pack and maybe kind of sort of friends, he still relished in pissing off Jackson. Besides, it also made Derek glare annoyed at him and even though Stiles knew that was because the big, bad Alpha disapproved of Stiles deliberately pissing off a pack-mate, Stiles got to pretend that it was possessive jealousy too. It was Stiles' mind and he got to pretend that Derek Hale was madly, deeply in love with him, okay?
"What is it, Stiles?" Lydia heaved an exasperated sigh.
They were all sitting together in the living room of the halfway rebuilt Hale House. Lydia sat on the armchair, reading a magazine, while Jackson, Isaac and Scott were fighting over the second control and who would get to take on Boyd. Erica and Allison were doing chem homework together, and Stiles was so proud of Erica for that. It was still tentative, but they were slowly getting along.
The hardest part about Stiles, Scott and Allison joining the Hale Pack had been the betas accepting Allison, which, Stiles understood, when she had her break-down after her mother's death, she had harmed them all, aided Gerard, who had tortured Stiles, Boyd and Erica. But the animosity only made Scott aggressive – not Allison, Allison actually understood it and accepted it and felt guilty for what she had done, which had gone a long way in Stiles forgiving her – and that led to a lot of fighting among the wolves. Half the time, Stiles had held his breath, fearing Derek was going to kick them out again to avoid the infighting, and he would even understand that.
It had been enough of a fight to convince Scott of joining the Hale Pack, and an additional fight to convince Derek to take them back, after the exhausting will-they-won't-they that Scott had played with the Hale Pack over the past couple months.
It was when the new school year had rolled around and it became apparent that Boyd and Erica were back. Actually back. They'd not been to school the last days, after the game (after the abduction and torture). And Stiles hadn't known if they had decided to leave for good, or if they were just recovering from the injuries and trauma. But when the new year started and they were sitting together with Isaac, all in their little leather jackets, puppies trying to imitate their Alpha (adorable, not that Stiles was ever going to tell them, he liked his limbs attached to his body). Even more importantly than Erica and Boyd though was the fact that Jackson and Lydia were sitting with the betas. That had been the final straw in Stiles' efforts to convince Scott.
Because that 'pack' that Derek had claimed Scott already had? Stiles, Allison, Lydia and Jackson? Half of them had now joined the Hale Pack. And it made sense, Jackson had finally been turned into a proper wolf by Derek, freed of the kanima curse, of course he'd join his Alpha's pack. And where Jackson went, Lydia went – now even more so than ever before, because their love, their mate-bond,had literally defied the kanima curse. So now Scott's 'pack' was a huntress and a human.
And sure, it was a high blow to Stiles' self-esteem that all of the many arguments he had presented over the past months of summer weren't enough but Lydia and Jackson choosing the Hale Pack, that did the trick. But hey. Stiles was taking it in stride. As long as Scott finally accepted.
Because the only other option was for Scott to slowly degenerate into a feral omega and Stiles was not going to have any of that. He'd done his research, he knew what happened to packless wolves.
So Stiles sucked it up. Sucked it up that Scott had needed more convincing than just himself (since it wasn't the first time, Scott tended to need more convincing than just Stiles). And then he tried to mend bridges, tried to smooth things over between Derek and Scott, and Allison and the betas.
Somehow, for reasons Stiles still didn't know and could not even begin to guess, Derek accepted them. Scott, who had betrayed him and used him in his plan against Gerard Argent. Allison, who had actively hunted his betas and was an Argent – and Stiles fully understood if Derek would never ever want to have anything to do with this family at all. And Stiles, the human who didn't really bring anything to the pack. Research, sure, but now Derek had Lydia, a certified genius.
Thinking of Lydia's genius… "So, I was wondering if you could help me with some research?"
The squabbling stopped and everyone was suddenly looking at him. Great. But then, he absolutely knew that asking her in secret would only blow up so much more in his face. This pack was nosy.
All of a sudden, Derek was right next to him, growling softly. "Is there a threat?"
Stiles yelped and jumped. Derek had been on the other side of the room just a second ago, glaring at him. Well, maybe not a second ago, his mind had gotten a bit side-tracked between first addressing Lydia and finally asking the question. Clutching his heart, he glared at Derek.
"Bell. Around your neck. We need one," Stiles hissed. "Just a fragile human here, with a heart that is going to get a werewolf induced heart-attack one of these days."
"Stiles," Derek growled softly. "What's the threat?"
"Nothing!" Stiles threw his arms up, staring at the Alpha and getting a doubtful glare in return. "It's just a personal project! If you haven't noticed yet, my brain doesn't do well without something to do. With all this peace and calm, it's hard to concentrate for me, so… new project. But I could use some help with it, hence the Lydia."
He motioned at Lydia, who looked very unimpressed at that. The betas all looked wary. Derek looked suspicious and not exactly like he believed Stiles. Furrowing his brows, Stiles sighed.
"Okay, listen to my heartbeat, Big Bad," Stiles made direct eye-contact with the Alpha. "This is not about a potential threat to the pack. It's just something I am interested in. Okay?"
A last second of frown, before Derek nodded and stepped away. Huh. Okay. Blinking slowly, Stiles returned his attention to Lydia, who was staring at him curiously.
"Sure. I don't have anything else to do and unlike the wolves, I don't have to run laps around the forest. Might as well help you with your research during that time, then."
Stiles' face brightened. That was awesome. That was going to help him so much.
/break\
"Okay, Stiles," Lydia sighed as she approached him. "What are we researching?"
The wolves had just left for their run, part of the pack night routine was that all the wolves went running together, leaving the three humans all alone. Allison usually busied herself either sharpening arrows-heads or practicing. The new and improved Hale House came with a basement filled with cells for the puppies during the full moon and another section with an indoor training room, including a shooting range. Lydia and Stiles would usually sit with Allison, doing other stuff (though she often enough also tried to teach them both archery). Most of the time, Stiles rather read books or browed the internet, sometimes doing homework.
Though, most preferably, Stiles would be doing all of that in the library, aka his favorite room anywhere at all. Because the Hales had a lot of books on magic and the supernatural stored in some vault somewhere and once the house was, well, more or less standing (the first floor was all set, a bathroom, the kitchen, the library, they were just still working on the second floor with the bedrooms), they had moved all the books into the library, so they would be prepared to do research in case of the next threat. Stiles appreciated that a lot, he was in love with that library.
"Sparks," Stiles blurted out. "We're researching something called a 'Spark'."
"Like… fire?" Allison lowered her bow, frowning at them.
"No! Not a fire!" Stiles motioned around wildly. "It's… something magical. I don't know what it is. I think it's a person. It has to do with magic though. I just… can't find anything concrete."
"I assume you already checked the library upstairs?"
"Yes, Lydia, I checked every single book we have," Stiles heaved a sigh and let himself collapse onto the couch. "There is some vague mentions of a spark but nothing explains them…"
"What… got you onto this topic then?"
Lydia frowned at him with narrowed eyes, making him shrug. "Something Deaton said. But you know the guy, he is so cryptic, his secrets have secrets. I didn't get concrete answers from him either, so I figured I would just… dig it up myself. Then got frustrated when I hit a wall. And you know me and my ADHD brain, if it latches onto something I can't just… let it go."
The look on Lydia's face did soften at that, because she knew that about him, and she got him. She could handle him and his rambling pretty good, now that the two of them were friends. One of the reasons why he had gotten over his crush on her, because he valued her friendship.
"Okay," Lydia cracked open her laptop. "If the dusty books don't have the answers, let's see what the internet can give us, and two can go through more sources than one, mh?"
"Three," Allison offered, putting down her bow, before pausing. "I mean… If you…"
Uncertainty was strange on Allison, but she was still aware that her actions had consequences that had impacted Stiles, personally, too. She knew he'd been held in the basement, just like Boyd and Erica, getting tortured by her grandpa because she kept enabling the old man. Something that Stiles would have preferred to keep to himself, but Erica and Boyd had announced it with snarls the first time Stiles had dragged Allison and Scott to Derek's place to ask if they could join the pack. Needless to say, that didn't exactly play out in Allison's favor, which meant it didn't play out in Scott's favor since Scott was inherently linked to Allison, because they were mates.
"Yeah, sure! Be my guest, help me find what the hell this means," Stiles smiled at her brightly.
/break\
Even with the combined might of Stiles, Lydia and the help of Allison, they came up with… not a lot. The most that the internet gave them was a dingy forum for wiccas where they (Lydia, thanks to her money) ended up buying an ancient tomb from some guy in Sweden. The whole book was written in ancient Greek, but it was called Spinthíras, which was the ancient Greek word for Spark so that was boding well and had Stiles vibrating in his seat with excitement.
Lydia actually spoke ancient Greek, because of course she did, she was Lydia. However, translating an entire, old book took some time, which left Stiles antsy and waiting. Just to be let down.
"That's it?" Stiles frowned, staring at her. "I mean, that's… all?"
It was another pack night, the wolves were on their run and the three humans were sitting together in the library (where they had, thankfully enough, moved their research project after that first day). Allison had a matching frown on her face as she stared at Lydia.
"That's all it says," Lydia shrugged. "It's just a retelling of the tale of Hades and Persephone."
She'd just read it to Stiles and Allison. The story of Persephone's abduction at the hands of Hades, more specifically Demeter's side of it all. Persephone's mother, the goddess of agriculture and nature, devastated and distraught by her daughter's abduction, searching all of the land. Her faithful companion and friend Hecate, the goddess of magic, at her side. Everywhere they went, they planted a 'spark', this said. To mark the places they had already searched. A seed of magic. But what did that mean? And what did that have to do with Stiles?
Glaring in frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging. One of the upsides of having grown it out. Great for frustrated tugging (and if he sometimes drifted off thinking about how Derek's fingers in his hair would feel, tugging on it, then that was only between him and his gods).
"Stiles," Allison spoke softly. "You… You okay? You have been really… obsessed with this. I mean, more than usual, and you always obsess hard, but usually it's at least… important to everyone's life and survival, so… What's this about?"
Shaking his head, Stiles buried his face in his hands. "I just… I want to know."
"Oh there absolutely is something you're not sharing," Lydia glared at him. "I knew it the day you asked me to help you, because why would you ask me in front of everyone if this is just casual? You wanted the alibi of everybody knowing. And you have mastered the art of lying to werewolves through omission and half-truths."
Stiles winced at her words. "I don't want to… I'll explain it once I have answers, okay?"
"Not really, on account of there not… being any answers so far."
Thankfully, the puppies saved Stiles from further interrogation. As soon as they entered the house, they found their way to the library, because those werewolves were affectionate and attached. Scott latched onto Allison with a bright smile, kissing her cheek and nuzzling against her. A run always had them more in tune with their inner wolves, so they were more likely to follow their instincts.
"No," Lydia lifted up a finger as Jackson neared her. "You are sweaty and muddy. No. Shower."
Jackson tilted his head and grinned. "Join me?"
A small, amused smirk stretched over Lydia's lips as she got up. "Now that is a good idea."
The two left, heading for the single bathroom before anybody else had a chance to claim it. It was due time they finished the upstairs, because they only had the shower stalls in the basement, for post-shift and post-training, and the one bathroom on the first floor. And they all would rather shower in a real bathroom than the shower stalls. The plans included two more bathrooms upstairs, as well as a private bathroom linked to the master bedroom so Derek wouldn't have to share bathroom time with teenagers, which Stiles thought was very fair.
But rebuilding an entire house was time consuming, even with strength, stamina and speed of werewolves. Priority one had been the basement, the titanium cells for the full moon and the training room so Derek wouldn't have to take the puppies to the train station. Which, Stiles considered a blessing, because if he had to go to that rat infested place, he would quit.
Then came the first floor, starting with the kitchen upon Stiles' insistence – because, for reasons he couldn't even really think of himself, he had decided to make sure the pack was fed, so he had been bringing sandwiches to the rebuilding sessions. Kitchen meant he wouldn't have to haul everything around. And though Stiles wasn't entirely sure why, Derek had actually given in pretty easily. Well, maybe the guy wanted a hot meal instead of cold sandwiches and burritos too, for a change. Bathroom, living room, dining room, library, den. Stiles knew Derek and Isaac were sleeping in the den – an honest to the gods cuddle room (even though Derek resented when Stiles called it that), where the entire floor was laid out with mattresses, blankets and pillows. Apparently, pack piles were a thing. A thing where werewolves all cuddled together, recharging. And until the upstairs bedrooms were usable, Derek and Isaac were crashing in that cozy den.
"What's wrong?" Derek asked, coming to a halt next to the table.
Oh, right, Stiles still had his face buried in his hands. Peeking out, he looked at the Alpha and immediately lived to regret it. Derek was only wearing his sweat-pants, no shirt, sweat glistering on his skin and perfect abs. Sighing, Stiles ran his fingers through his hair again.
"Yeah, no, just… another dead end," Stiles groaned in frustration, tilting his head back.
"What is it about?" Derek asked after a moment.
Stiles was reluctant, he was afraid that he'd say too much. Which was stupid, probably, since there wasn't anything to it. Still, it sounded so conceited to him, to think he was important. Magic. No.
"I… want to know more about magic users. Because you guys, with your claws and fangs, can fight real well, but if a magic user throws a spell at you and renders you incapacitated? And I covered a lot of ground, but I… can't seem to find much about others."
Not a lie. Sure, he had done this research for this reason during the summer. Still, not a lie. Derek furrowed his brows thoughtfully, crossing his arms in a way that made his biceps bulge in a very distracting manner. Blinking, Stiles stared. In the background, he could hear Scott and Erica fight over who would get the bathroom second, while Isaac and Boyd had tapped out to go to the shower stalls downstairs. But Scott wanted to do as Lydia and Jackson did, tugging Allison along, and Erica flat out refused to use the shower-stalls, she wanted a proper bathroom to get ready.
"Peter," Derek called out, gaining his uncle's attention. "Help Stiles with his research."
"You could at least phrase it as a question, nephew."
Derek glared and flashed his red eyes at the older wolf. "Stiles is right, this is going to come in handy if we face a magic threat. You… have more experience with that, I'm sure you know more, or know where to look, at least. Pack helps each other."
Peter heaved an exasperated sigh and nodded before regarding Stiles. "Come by tomorrow."
Okay. Wasn't the best idea, wasn't the worst idea either. Derek was right, out of everybody they knew, Peter had the most experience with the supernatural, and as the last Hale Alpha's brother and second, he must have actually had contact with magic users over the years. Still, Stiles didn't fully trust Peter, and he also really didn't want to give away why he was looking for this, that he thought he was special, might be special, might have magic. That he wanted to be useful to the pack, not just… make sandwiches and help the betas study to keep their grades up, which was somehow something Stiles had also picked up, together with Lydia.
/break\
"Well, Stiles. Tell uncle Peter what the problem is."
Stiles made a face, which only seemed to delight the werewolf even more. This man was born to get under people's skin, it was near impressive. Shuddering, Stiles approached. They were alone. The Camaro wasn't parked out front, which meant that Derek wasn't at home. Stiles didn't know if he appreciated the fact that Derek was giving him privacy for his research or if he hated the fact that Derek left him alone with Peter. Possibly a bit of both.
"Sparks," Stiles admitted after a beat, getting the ancient Greek book out of his bag. "This is… the most I could find about it and it's nothing really either. It just speaks of 'seeds' planted by Demeter and Hecate during their search for Persephone, which just… myths."
"Werewolves are myths," Peter pointed out. "The myth of Lycaon, the human king cursed to turn into a man-wolf beast. You, of all people, should know better than to dismiss myths."
"True," Stiles sighed and sat down opposite Peter. "But this one doesn't apply. It just sounds like a nice little fairy tale to tell your kids. Seeds of magic aren't… the right thing."
"Have you ever heard of the term Nemeton?" Peter asked after a moment.
"Uhm… Nope? What does that mean? And what does it have to do with this?"
Peter raised one eyebrow in what clearly conveyed 'well shut up and let me explain'. "A Nemeton is an ancient Celtic place of… power, magic, where druids would hold rituals. Every culture has its own interpretation. What you found is the ancient Greek interpretation. The Nemeton is a large, magical tree. Trees grow from seeds."
Oh. Oh, so the magic seeds had been literal. The goddess of nature and the goddess of magic creating a magic tree. Still, didn't feel like it had a whole lot to do with him.
"How can a tree be a person?"
Peter narrowed his eyes. "What makes you think that a Spark is a person? Why are you looking into this? Tell me where you came across the concept of a human spark before I explain anything else."
Knowledge was power and Peter lived for power. It figured that he wouldn't give it without gaining anything in return. Stiles glared and crossed his arms on top of the table. He had to play his cards right here, half-truths that could pass by the human lie-detector.
"Deaton," Stiles admitted. "He mentioned it once, but when I tried to prod him further…"
Peter huffed and relaxed some, leaning back in his chair. "The old druid is more cryptic than a Sphinx, that's for sure. But why would he bring up Sparks? Did he… Did he insinuate that there is one here, in Beacon Hills, again?"
Again. Stiles latched onto that word so hard. So Sparks were human. So there had been at least one here before. His shift in posture must have tipped Peter off, because the wolf smirked.
"You know more than you're letting on," Peter chuckled.
"Maybe I'll tell you if you tell me what you know," Stiles offered casually. "Why are you so eager about there being a Spark in Beacon Hills? How can a Spark be a person, if it's a tree?"
"It's not a tree. The tree is the Nemeton, the tree isn't the Spark," Peter rolled his eyes. "The tree chooses the Spark. I'll admit, the tale of two goddesses walking the Earth and planting them is… questionable and I'm not sure I'm buying into it, it sounds more like how religious people tend to try and explain the unknown. But in the context of that tale, the way my mother taught me and Talia, it's that… Hecate and Demeter gave the lands magic, seeding actual magic into the land they visited, as a thanks to its people who had helped them in their search. The seeds would grow, magic would flow through the ground and plants and creatures of the forest. Strengthening the land."
"Fairy tale territory again," Stiles commented dryly.
"Humans are greedy," Peter continued, snapping a little at the interruption. "Magic users, as you might have read, need conduits to perform their magic. Witches, druids, sorcerers, the thing they all have in common is that they can't perform magic without aid. Runes, spells, potions, using specific ingredients. Now, imagine how much something infused with actual magic would help."
"So magic users sought out the trees – these Nemetons – to use them?"
"Not just them. The magic spreads through the land. Herbs, fruits, anything that grows on the land of the Nemeton is more potent. And so are the animals that eat these plants, their bones and blood becomes more potent," Peter sighed. "So they come and they try to plunder. And the Nemeton, it knew it couldn't defend itself, or its land, so it… picked a guardian. Transferring a spark of its special magic – the magic of nature – into a human baby born on its land."
Stiles swallowed hard at that and tried to cover his growing nerves. "Okay. So a Spark is a magic user then, but one who's… supposed to defend the Nemeton?"
"Not just the Nemeton. The land that the Nemeton lives on," Peter corrected him, suddenly getting a more far-off look on his face. "Wolf packs have had emissaries for a very long time. But the concept of emissaries is rooted in Sparks. The Spark is the chosen guardian of the lands, and wolf packs tend to protect their territory, their lands. So a symbiotic relationship was born, where Sparks and packs pledged loyalty to each other and worked together to protect the land."
That sounded… nice. Stiles licked his lips and turned to look at the book. A guardian.
"So what, that's what makes Sparks special? I mean, what does. What can they even do that a druid or witch or… or whatever can't do?"
Peter raised his eyebrows. "You didn't listen. Magic users have to use conduits. Sparks don't. That's what makes them special, they don't need anything to use magic, they are magic. The magic they were infused with is an inherent magic, a magic that comes from within them."
Blinking repeatedly, Stiles stared at the wolf. "Just… like that? No… nothing?"
"The Spark, that's why they're called that. There is a spark of pure magic inside them," Peter offered bemused. "They can't do all that other sorcerers can, creating portals or changing someone or something's shape. Their magic is linked to nature, supposedly. Manipulating and creating from and with the elements. Fire, water, earth, air, plants, electricity."
Mountain ash was natural, that was why Stiles had been able to create it from nothing. Without any spell or anything to make magic work, the way Deaton did. Because Stiles was magic. Stiles carried magic inside of him. Because some old tree had chosen him.
"Why did you say 'again' earlier?" Stiles asked, looking up. "What happened to the last Spark?"
A sigh, a genuinely sad sigh, escaped Peter. "Human greed, Stiles. The Sparks protected the land, and for many centuries, that worked, but the more humans advanced, the more their destructive methods advanced. Look at today's cities, with minimal parks, nature cut down and forced to make room for asphalt and metal. Places that once held that natural magic, well, when the nature dies, so does the magic, and when the magic dies… there's nothing that can pick a new Spark."
There was a dark look on Peter's face as he turned away from Stiles before continuing. "Beacon Hills used to have a Nemeton, before it got… cut down. There hasn't been a Spark in Beacon Hills since then, because this land's magic has been dying since then."
Stiles found himself looking away too at that, feeling a strange ache in his chest at the thought. "So, wait. What do you think could bring back a Spark? If the tree is dead."
Peter blinked wondrously at him. "Aren't you the one responsible for figuring these things out? I gave you all I know, which is… and you are aware of that… more than I am usually willing to do. But if Beacon Hills has a Spark again, that would mean more power for our pack. Our pack doesn't have an emissary right now, because Derek rightfully does not trust Deaton. If there is a Spark in town and our pack could bond with them, that would be… monumental."
Ah, there it was. Power. Stiles had been wondering why Peter was so forthcoming. But if he gave Stiles the information Stiles needed, then Stiles could better 'track down' that Spark, resulting in power for their pack, which also meant power for Peter. He chuckled lightly, wondering what the werewolf would say if he knew he sat opposite that Spark.
/break\
"Sti—iles, that smells delicious."
Stiles rolled his eyes as Erica wound her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. Food, as it turned out, was the best way to bribe werewolves. And apparently, they all were weak for his cooking. Stiles never thought that spending all his time in the kitchen with his mom to bond with her would ever pay off in such a way. It was a good thing he enjoyed cooking too, because seven werewolves and three humans could eat a whole lot. Thankfully, Derek was footing the bill.
"Erica," Derek growled. "If you're not helping Stiles cook, get out of the kitchen."
And another thing Stiles hadn't expected. Derek was very, very behind making his pack help. After they got the kitchen ready, Stiles had half expected to be left alone in there to do all the work, since he'd made all the sandwiches and everyone just ate. But Derek Hale did not stand for his betas not doing a thing and reaping the benefits. They had a rotation on who helped on the actual cooking – chopping up things, usually – while it was a 'house rule' that Stiles did not have to clean up. That was something the betas were more than capable of, so Derek made them do it. Which was awesome because the cleaning up was the worst part about cooking.
"I was about to start setting the table," Erica stuck her tongue out at Derek.
It made Stiles chuckle softly. The blonde grabbed a stack of plates to carry them to the dining room. Yet the Alpha remained looming in the doorway, staring at Stiles. Raising one eyebrow, Stiles turned to face him and give him a pointed look.
"As you just told your beta, if you aren't helping Stiles cook, get out of his kitchen."
It was a testimony to how much their relationship had improved since Stiles joined the pack that Derek simply huffed and didn't growl and threaten him. Pushing off the doorway, Derek approached him, giving him a weird look. Stiles kept watching him.
"Spill it, Alpha," Stiles sighed. "Because I do mean it, if you're not helping, get out. I don't like being watched when I cook, that's weird and makes me nervous."
"Peter told me about your conversation the other day," Derek replied, thankfully enough grabbing something to do – prepping the salad that would be served before the main course. "Sparks."
"Oka—ay," Stiles nodded vaguely, not wanting to give anything away.
Which, at this point, he knew he would have to tell them sooner or later. Now that he knew it wasn't in his head, it wasn't just the useless human hoping against hope that he was special. But now, he kind of didn't want to tell them until he could actually do something. He wanted to actually be useful to the pack. If he revealed he was a Spark now, it would just get their hopes up and then disappoint them because he couldn't do anything. He'd been able to summon mountain ash one time, but now? He'd tried, after that, and even more so since his conversation with Peter, but nothing worked. Maybe because he was forcing it too hard, maybe because Beacon Hills lacked the magic, as Peter had said. Perhaps there wasn't enough spark inside him to make him a real Spark.
"I'm the Alpha," Derek said, with a little force and a big frown.
"I know, big guy, you say that a lot, and we all know it. Red glowy eyes and all of that."
Derek growled, not so softly. "When you said this wasn't a threat, that might be true, but it still affects the pack. I know Peter told you about the origins of emissaries, that packs only switched to other magic users where no Sparks were. A Spark in Beacon Hills would be… important for our pack. I'm the Alpha. I need to know these things, Stiles."
"Okay, fair," Stiles nodded awkwardly, trying to focus on the żurek he was cooking. "Sorry. I just, when I started out, I didn't know what it was, which is kind of what drove me up the walls, right? And even so, it's not like I can help you right now."
All of these statements were true. He deliberately hadn't said 'help you find them', since he knew that. But right now, he was a useless Spark, so he couldn't help. Damn, he was good at this.
"If you need help, you will tell me," Derek ordered, glaring.
Stiles offered the smallest smile. "Sure thing, big guy."
/break\
"Dude, you look like shit," Scott's voice was so concerned, it made up for the words.
It was lunch and Stiles had just unceremoniously plopped down on his seat between Scott and Isaac. Everyone else was already there, Scott and Allison sitting next to each other holding hands even as they ate (why. That seemed so impractical to Stiles), Lydia and Jackson were not yet eating but rather… something between arguing and making out, Erica just fully sat on Boyd's lap because she could steal from his plate more easily that way. One of the hardest thing to adjust to were werewolf mates, honestly. Though, he had to admit, he was very glad when he'd learned that werewolf mates were actually real, because it was truly the only thing that could explain Scott and Allison.
"Been working a lot. Late," Stiles grunted. "Haven't slept much."
"Stiles, do we have to rat you out to our Alpha?" Erica asked, one eyebrow raised.
Stiles couldn't help but snort. "Right. Because Derek cares very deeply about my sleep schedule."
"Are you an actual idiot, Stilinski," Jackson asked, earning a warning growl from some of the other betas. "What. He's the Alpha, of course does he care about his pack."
There was something there that Stiles was missing. Maybe because he was way too tired to pick up on the nuance of wolf growling this early in the day. Rubbing his face, he leaned against his hand. He was so tired, he had barely slept in the past maybe week. Ever since his conversation with Peter, he'd been trying to hone his skills, every day, every night. The more often he failed, the harder he tried, the less he slept. Pushing his tray aside, he folded his arms and rested his head on it.
"When was the last time you ate," Lydia asked. "I have seen you on a research binge before, you forget to eat. If Derek wouldn't regularly put a plate with a sandwich directly in front of your face, you would just not eat at all. Up. Eat your lunch."
Stiles grumbled and turned his head. "Too tired to eat."
"Stiles," Isaac's voice was a whine.
Urgh. Stupid puppies, guilt-tripping Stiles with their puppy-dog eyes. Slowly sitting up, Stiles picked something off his plate to eat. Isaac grinned pleased at him, rubbing his chin against Stiles' shoulder. Scenting him. Affectionate puppies.
"You know that if you need help, we'll help you," Allison injected.
"Yeah!" Scott nodded enthusiastically, squeezing his mate's hand gratefully. "I mean, I'm not big on research but I'll do whatever I can to help you, bro."
The smallest smile found its way onto Stiles' lips at the noises of agreement from the others. "Thanks, guys. I… I want to figure this out on my own though. Call it a matter of pride, I guess."
"Don't have too much pride," Jackson grunted.
And it didn't sound too malicious. It sounded… nearly worried. Aw. Stiles grinned but refrained from commenting. Though they were right. He had to either finally manage something, or he had to give up. Accept that he wasn't a proper Spark. That whatever had happened had just been… a coincident or something. Who knew. One last attempt, tonight. And then he'd sleep.
/break\
Stiles nervously tapped his fingers on his knee that evening, when everyone was gathered in the Hale House for their weekly pack night. Every Friday, they would meet here. Well, honestly, most of them spent most of their days here, but not all of them at the same time – it was just that, on the average, one could find at least two or three pack members who didn't live here at the house. That was how the rebuilding continued. Whoever had time came by and helped out. Slow progress, now that summer was over, but progress nonetheless. The weekend, they'd usually spend rebuilding together, all of them. But Friday night was their night off, they'd just hang out. Eat together, watching a movie, then the pack run and lastly the very comfortable pack cuddling.
"What's wrong?" Boyd asked, eyes on Stiles' tapping fingers.
Stiles froze and looked up, noticing that the entire pack was staring at him. "What? I'm Stiles! I fidget! This isn't new. Stop staring at me like that."
"You also smell stressed," Erica added, one eyebrow raised.
Great. He had meant to catch Peter afterward and just talk to him. Now, he had the whole pack staring at him. Annoyed, he crossed his arms, partially to stop himself from fidgeting. As good as he'd gotten at verbally lying, his biochemical signals still gave him away. Damn wolf noses.
"I want to go and see the Nemeton," Stiles looked directly at Peter. "Show me."
The former Alpha raised one curious eyebrow, while their current Alpha made a small noise. The rest of the pack around them were mostly confused, not knowing what a Nemeton was.
"You think it'll give you a clue?" Peter asked, curling his fingers around his chin.
"I don't know," Stiles shrugged, honestly. "But it's the only clue I got, so."
"What's a Nemo ton?" Scott asked, looking between them warily.
Scott and Lydia still struggled the most with Peter's presence in the pack, and Stiles fully supported them. Honestly, he still thought the zombiewolf was more problem than help, but he also accepted that Peter was Derek's only living family and that Derek couldn't turn his back on Peter, that Derek needed Laura's death to mean something, as twisted and warped as that may sound.
"A long, long, long time ago, every settlement had a Nemeton, a magical tree. A manifestation of the place's magic," Peter explained, as more eyes turned to him. "Many cities, especially large cities overrun with modern day technology, cutting more and more nature out, lost that connection to the land's natural magic. Beacon Hills… our Nemeton was cut down, many years ago."
"Okay. And why does Stiles want to see a dead tree?" Isaac asked.
"The Nemeton is the concentrated magic of the land and it used to pick a guardian, plant a spark of its magic in a human who then would wield that magic to protect the land, and the Nemeton," Peter continued, sounding very annoyed. "Stiles here is researching those guardians. Those Sparks."
"Why?" Boyd turned toward Stiles with a frown now.
"Peter says that these Sparks were the OG emissaries of wolf packs," Stiles shrugged. "The guardian of the lands, working together with the wolf pack that claims those lands as their territory."
"Apparently, there might be a Spark in Beacon Hills again," Peter's eyes betrayed the casual way of his words. "Sparks are powerful, their magic doesn't come from using tools or conduits, their magic comes from the land itself. If our pack had the chance to bond with a Spark-"
"Okay, wait, let me try to…" Scott frowned. "The tree makes the Spark. So we're… looking for a dead tree to find a magic user as emissary to our pack? How… is the dead tree going to help?"
"I don't know, Scotty," Stiles shrugged helplessly. "How does a living tree pick a person and plant a seed of magic in them? This supernatural stuff isn't exactly easy to explain."
Derek heaved a sigh and got up. "Okay. Movie night is canceled. We're having a field trip."
Stiles made a bit of a face, but now the whole pack seemed interested in seeing a magic tree. All the way through the woods, the whole pack chattered about Nemetons and Sparks and spinning theories. Stiles stayed quiet, his own thoughts running too fast and too far away for him to focus on what was happening around him. He followed behind, until they reached the clearing.
"Here we are," Peter's voice was unusually grave and serious. "Beacon Hills' Nemeton."
The pack slowly walked onto the clearing and came to stand in a half-circle around a giant tree stump. It took Stiles' breath away to look at, and he seemed not the only one moved by it, though he suspected the wolves didn't entirely know why.
"She must have been beautiful," Stiles whispered.
"She?" Jackson snorted out a laugh. "It's a tree, Stilinski."
Stiles furrowed his brows. No. No, he didn't know how to explain it, but he could feel that 'she' was right. Tilting his head, he took a step back, to get a better view of the large tree stump. He blinked repeatedly as he now saw his pack's backs. There was a faint glow around each of them. He tried concentrating harder on it and the longer they stayed, the harder he concentrated, the more he could see it. The stronger it got. Not just a glow, but a pulse. Derek was glowing the brightest, a deep Alpha red like his eyes. The betas' glows corresponded with their eyes too, blue and gold. Stiles tilted his head in the other direction when he saw the faintest pinkish glow around Lydia, and even Allison had a certain glow to her, a silver aura, though the faintest of them all. Because hunters weren't supernatural, but they associated with the supernatural enough. Somehow, Stiles could tell that that was what the aura was, not her association with pack but her nature as a hunter. He paused.
"I figured it out," Stiles whispered, looking between the pack and the tree.
"Mh?" Lydia frowned at him. "What did you figure out?"
"When I talked to Peter, I asked him why there would be an active Spark here now, after the tree had been cut for seventy years, which he could not answer," Stiles motioned at Peter with a glare for being useless. "But I think I figured it out."
Peter looked unimpressed. "Well, enlighten us."
"It's the pack," Stiles motioned at them all now. "The pack is linked to the land too, the pack is magic. With every… member the pack gains, it gets stronger, its magic and link to the land gets stronger. And… And that is strengthening the Nemeton again."
"Not to point out the obvious, but there was a Hale Pack before this," Isaac pointed out.
"Right, no. I… I think that for as long as there was still a Hale Pack, the Nemeton kept planting Sparks, but… the pack stopped looking because they assumed with the dead tree, there wouldn't be a Spark. And the Sparks didn't… know what their magic was or how to channel it," Stiles started gesturing more around as he walked past his pack and toward the tree. "But the Spark and the pack are linked, it's not just a symbolic bond, it's a symbiotic bond. It's the pack that ignited the Spark."
The one time Stiles had used his Spark had been when the entire Hale Pack – at the time – had been close by. At the rave. When he'd used the magic to protect. Every attempt since then had just been him trying to use magic at random, with no purpose and with no pack members close by. Resting both his hands on the tree stump, Stiles closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He could feel the Nemeton's magic, could feel it coursing through himself.
"Stiles?" Isaac sounded worried. "Are you alright? Your heart-rate is through the roof."
"What's really going on here?" Scott asked, taking a step toward Stiles. "What's wrong?"
Stiles shook his head, because nothing was wrong. Everything was right. He knew what to do.
"Derek," Stiles opened his eyes wide and stared directly at Derek. "I need Derek."
There were gasps around him and little 'holy shit's. The pack looked torn between stepping away and stepping toward him. Something was happening that Stiles didn't understand.
"Your eyes," Scott sounded stunned. "They're glowing, Stiles. Like… Like ours."
Okay. Okay, unexpected. Stiles blinked rapidly, looking at Derek curiously.
"They're turquoise," Derek answered the silent question. "What's happening?"
"Really," Peter sounded exasperated. "How are none of you following this."
"Stiles is the Spark," Lydia interrupted, staring at Stiles in surprise. "That's why you were so obsessed with this. Because it wasn't a project, it was about you."
Stiles lifted one hand and opened his mouth, just to close it again. "Uh. Yeah. Anyway, moving on, I need Derek. And a knife. Ally, I know you can supply me with one of those things."
"Stiles, I can't believe I am saying this, but you need to use more words," Scott pleaded. "How are you the Spark. When did you become a Spark. Why do you want Derek and a knife."
Stiles groaned frustrated. No. No, he didn't want to explain, he needed—When he looked up, he realized he was standing right in front of Derek, grabbing his hand. The Alpha looked startled.
"I don't know, okay," Stiles replied as he pulled Derek along toward the Nemeton. "I did one magic trick, back at the rave, when we were trying to contain the kanima. Deaton told me that I could use the mountain ash because it took a spark. And I just… made more mountain ash than I had, just with… my will-power, or whatever. But every time I tried using magic after, it didn't work. So I wanted to figure out what a Spark was. And, here we are."
Scott motioned at him agitated. "Why didn't you say anything!"
That actually gave Stiles pause and he stopped moving, frowned at the tree. "Because… Because I wanted to be useful for the pack, not just be the token human. But I thought it was… conceited to think that I am somehow something special and magical so I didn't want to tell you in case this was nothing, and it looked like nothing for so long…"
Derek made a really weird noise and stepped closer. "Stiles-"
"The knife," Stiles interrupted and cleared his throat. "I need the blood of the Hale Alpha for this."
"For… For what, exactly?" Allison asked unsure, even as she handed her knife over.
"The Nemeton, the Spark and the pack are all linked. But not…" Stiles motioned, trying to find the words. "The bond. The bond between a pack and a Spark, I think that it can help the Nemeton heal. No, I don't think, I feel. It's like… I can't explain it, but I can feel the Nemeton, I can feel what I'm supposed to do. I just… I know it. I know that Derek and I can strengthen the Nemeton, can strengthen our land's magic, together. Trust me."
At the end, he turned toward Derek, near pleading. There was no reluctance as Derek offered his hand, palm up. Stiles took a moment to gather himself and then he took the knife, running it over Derek's palm until there was blood. Before the wound could close, he pressed it down onto the tree, fingers spread. Then, he repeated the same with his own hand, wincing a little at the cut. He pressed his palm right next to Derek and then just dropped the knife, because he needed his other hand. With his now free hand did he grab Derek's linking their fingers.
"C'mon," Stiles whispered, closing his eyes tight. "I know you can feel me, because I can feel you. Now feel him. Feel our bond. What else do you need?"
"Stiles," Derek spoke gently. "You're not my emissary. If that's the bond the tree wants…"
"Oh," Stiles blinked and looked up. "Right. Uh. Alpha Hale, will you accept me as your emissary?"
"Yes," Derek replied without any hesitation. "Spark Stilinski, do you accept me as your Alpha?"
"Yes," Stiles flushed just a little. "Always have."
Stiles gasped – and so did everyone around him, so he guessed his eyes were doing the glowy thing again – as all the air got knocked out of him. Magic flooded through him, overwhelming him, bringing him to his knees. He collapsed forward, right into Derek's chest. Derek let go of his hand so he could wrap his arm around Stiles' waist to pull him close.
"Are you okay, Stiles? Do we need to end whatever this is?"
"No," Stiles gasped for breath and shook his head. "Don't move. But I think it needs more. I think we can do more. I think… I know… we need everyone's blood. The entire pack needs to pledge themselves to the Nemeton. To protecting the Nemeton and her land. Our land."
"Your heard him," Derek growled.
"This is so not sanitary," Isaac muttered as he picked up the knife.
Yet one by one, the rest of the pack copied what the Alpha and the Spark had done. Cutting their palms and pressing their hands along the tree, forming a full circle. Stiles, still leaning against Derek's chest, turned his head to look at the tree. He started laughing, couldn't help it. The feeling was exhilarating. Like pure life. And even beyond that, he could feel every single pack member. He didn't know how, but he could feel them inside his heart, distinguish between them.
"Are… Are you alright, Stiles?" Boyd asked concerned.
"I can feel you, all of you," Stiles pressed his free hand against his heart. "It… feels amazing."
"That's… the pack bond," Isaac blinked wondrously at him. "But…"
"He's not human anymore. He embraced his magic," Peter supplied.
There was a breeze going through the forest, carrying all the scents of the forest at once. And for just that moment, Stiles felt like he could perceive everything in the forest all at once. Hear the birds, the bunnies, the foxes sneaking around, the river further down. He could feel the forest.
"It worked," Stiles whispered, voice slurred. "I can feel it. I can feel the forest. The land. Every corner of Beacon Hills County. All of it. It's pulsing with magic. It's ours. Ours to protect."
"I mean, we have been doing that for months now," Erica pointed out dryly.
"Is different," Stiles mumbled, struggling to concentrate. "I'm… really… rally tired…"
"It's okay," Derek whispered into his ear. "I got you. Rest."
/break\
Derek was still reeling from the events of the day. Beacon Hills had a Spark. Stiles was the Spark. Stiles had agreed, with no reluctance or doubt in his mind, to become Derek's emissary. He never thought he would get an emissary, much less one as powerful as a Spark.
When Stiles' eyes had glowed turquoise with magic, Derek had frozen. He'd never seen something more breathtaking, he could feel the power radiating off Stiles in that moment. And then he had bonded them all to the Nemeton, to the land. Derek had felt it too, an echo of the land, of everything calling to him, but he had a feeling that Stiles had felt it much, much stronger.
After, Stiles had just fainted into Derek's arms and Derek had carried him back to the Hale House, put him into the den and made him as comfortable as possible. It had been eight hours now and Stiles was still out cold. Derek hadn't left his side once. Most of the pack either stayed in the den too or at least hovered by. Moved around the house. Left for a few hours and then returned.
"Urgh…" Stiles groaned and then curled together, against Derek.
Derek wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. "Hey. How are you feeling, Stiles?"
Stiles stilled, which in itself was strange to see on Stiles. "Actually… I feel… good. Strong. I mean, super tired, could sleep for another ten hours, but… I'm good."
"Here!" Erica came barreling in, directly followed by Isaac and Boyd. "We made you sandwiches."
Isaac was carrying a plate with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. They even cut off the crust. Stiles smiled softly at the betas and thanked them. Accepting the plate, he wolfed down the sandwiches. All three betas looked varying degrees of proud at that.
"Hey, can you make me some more? I feel starved."
"Sure thing," Boyd smiled as he took the plate. "Just… don't do that again. The fainting."
"I'll do my best," Stiles chuckled. "I just… never… used my magic before, not really, not to that extend. I guess I over-exhausted myself. I'll be more careful."
The next moment, Erica was hugging him tightly. "And don't say stupid stuff about wanting to be useful for the pack, you are plenty useful and important to us, okay? With or without magic."
Stiles stiffened at that, but after a moment, he nodded. The betas cleared out again to make the requested sandwiches, leaving Derek and Stiles on their own. Derek looked ahead at the wall, not at Stiles. He couldn't look at Stiles right now, not with what he was going to say next.
"You have always been an important part of this pack, Stiles."
"Yeah, yeah, everybody is important to the pack," Stiles sighed. "I just-"
"No," Derek growled a little. "Yes, everyone is important, but you have played an important part in this pack since you joined it, Stiles. You have… You have taken care of our pack, feeding us, bringing moral support, bringing us together. You have a role in this pack."
Stiles hummed softly, looking at him. Derek still didn't look at him, his heart racing.
"Did you ever wonder why I accepted you and Scott and Allison into my pack, even after what Scott and Allison have done, repeatedly, since I met them?"
"I mean… I have, but I also figured asking might make you reconsider."
"You're my mate," Derek nearly choked on the word. "That's why. I accepted them because of you. Because you asked. Because you wanted to join my pack and I would have done anything it took to make you join my pack. The role you have been playing in this pack for months now is the role of the Alpha mate. You've been taking care of our pack, because it is our pack."
"Oh," Stiles swallowed hard. "Okay. Trying really hard not to freak out and put words in your mouth there but the fact that you never, not once, said anything over the past months, even though you apparently already realized before I joined, that's… you know, that shapes up to a real big rejection so, I need you to use more words before I keep spiraling-"
"Everyone I love dies," Derek spat out the words, hands balled into fists, his claws extending and digging into his palms. "My family, in the fire. Laura. Paige. K… Kate was even worse than just dying, Kate took so much from me first, and yet I did love her. I'm not… I don't want to hurt you, Stiles. You deserve so much better. You're human, you can't feel the bond, I thought if I just ignored it, you would have a chance to fall in love with someone… better."
"Oh, Derek," Stiles sounded like his heart was breaking.
He moved, with much difficulty, and sat down in front of Derek, cupping his cheeks to make Derek finally look at him. Whiskey-brown eyes stared at him with so much gentle love that it suffocated Derek. A small whine escaped his throat, a desperate noise, craving his mate.
"But I can't let you believe you aren't important to the pack," Derek continued. "You're the Alpha's mate, you're the second most important person in the pack, to the pack. The most important part of the pack, to me. You were never useless, Stiles. You always brought your wits, your plans, your bravery, your loyalty. You fought side by side with wolves even without any of our strength or healing, you have always given your everything to protect Beacon Hills with us."
"Yeah, apparently that was an inherent call I wasn't aware of," Stiles chuckled dryly, before shaking his head. "That's not. I'm your mate. Let's focus on that part. You… say that you didn't tell me because everyone you love dies, so I'm… so you love me…"
"Yes," Derek breathed out like that word was the last air in his lungs. "More than my own life."
"I feel like that's just not a good parameter because you are not looking out for yourself enough," Stiles huffed, punching Derek's chest very lightly to not hurt his own hand. "But okay, then. That's good. Because I love you too, you big idiot Alpha, and if you had just told me, I could have told you earlier that you deserve everything, Derek. You lost so, so much and you deserve to be happy, you deserve to be loved, you deserve… anything you want, and if that's me, then you do deserve me."
Another curious whine, nearly a wounded sound, because Derek didn't know what to do with this. All he saw in Stiles' eyes was love. So much love that it overwhelmed Derek. Slowly, Stiles leaned closer, tilting his head. Leaning in for a kiss. Before Derek could fully register, his wolf urged him forward, having wanted this for too long. He gasped as their lips met.
"I love you," Stiles whispered against Derek's lips when they parted. "I love you and you deserve to be loved, Derek. And if you don't believe me, that's okay, because I'll tell you over and over again until you do believe me. Besides, you are now fully stuck with me. I'm your emissary now."
A large grin spread over his lips and his eyes flashed turquoise, causing Derek to growl low. Possessive. Stiles laughed and stole another kiss, a soft and short one, and another.
"You…" Derek trailed off, unsure what he wanted to say.
"I have so much to learn now," Stiles whispered with a frown, resting his forehead against Derek. "I mean, magic, obviously, and I think the Nemeton will be the best teacher for that. Just being close to her made me… feel what I had to do? But the emissary thing, that I will have to study up on. I know there's a bunch of books about them in the library, I just never read them because, well, didn't seem to be of interest to me. Hah."
"You're everything," Derek ended up saying once Stiles finally stopped talking.
Stiles stared at him with large, blinking doe-eyes, startled. "What."
Derek gave a helpless shrug and pulled him into another kiss. "I always wanted to find my mate, my mother always said that the matebond is… something forged between two people meant to be, who will make each other better, and you have made me better. You have saved my life and protected my pack and now you're… you're the Alpha mate and my emissary and the Spark of Beacon Hills and I don't know how to comprehend you. You're just… my everything."
The smallest oh escaped Stiles before he buried his face in Derek's neck. "Okay. I like that."
Stiles relaxed against them, sitting down on Derek's lap and leaning against his chest. Both simply drinking in the feeling of being with each other, the warmth between them.
~*~ The End ~*~