Work Text:
Something Special
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls.
The most massive characters are seared with scars…
When he was a toddler his mother used to tell him that he was special, something precious.
She also told him that he would have struggles to overcome because most people would not be able to notice that he was special, but he was not allowed to let that drag him down.
Never.
She told him there would come a time when he would be the only one who could protect the ones he loves. He never really understood his mother’s words; he never discovered anything special about himself.
Then his mother died and his world collapsed.
There was nothing he could have done for her so he buried her words deep inside his heart and moved on.
It worked for several years till his best friend Scott got bitten by an alpha werewolf and turned furry every month.
Stiles being the good and devoted friend he was did everything to help his brother in heart out. Even if that meant to cuff him to a radiator or team up with scary and broody Derek Hale for support.
So that was his life now.
Full of stupidly attractive and creepy werewolves in black leather jackets, slamming him into walls and doors and cars on a regular basis…
* * *
“Yeaaah!!! Go and die already you stupid motherfuckers!!!” Stiles nearly had a cramp as he hit the buttons of his controller violently.
“Dude… You just killed me too! You know, friendly fire really hurts…” Scott sulked.
The other boy snorted. “Please Scott. You were the perfect bait to lure my enemies out. I saw the chance and I took it. I think you’re familiar with that concept.”
He unplugged his controller and got up to get something to drink.
“Stiles….” his best friend muttered, “is something wrong? You’re behaving strangely lately. Ever since the thing with Gerard happened…” Scott gave him a sheepish look and put his controller down too.
“You’re hardly talking to anyone at school, you don’t come to pack meetings and I literally had to force you to game night today. I’m… we are worried.”
There it was.
The topic he had wanted to avoid the most. Gerard. He’d never told his pack what had happened when he had disappeared after the lacrosse game. Not even Boyd and Erica knew anything because they had been unconscious the whole time Gerard kept him in the basement of the Argent house.
Of course they had noticed the bruises on his face right away and of course they had been concerned and at the same time furious about what Gerard had done to their friend. But with the Jackson thing and Scott betraying Derek, the fuss over his kidnapping hadn’t lasted very long.
Not that he was complaining. It had given him the time he’d needed to do what he thought was best for him and the pack.
No one could ever know what had happened, there in the cellar and what he had done to free his pack members. So he had dealt with the aftermath in the only way he knew – had done what he was good at: he had gone into research right when he had gotten back home. It had taken him only a few hours to get what he wanted. Something to hide a specific kind of smell.
The smell of torn flesh, blood and pain.
“Stiles? You ok? You’re spacing out,” Scott interrupted his thoughts with a worried face.
The teenager sighed. “Scott. Can’t you just give me some time to process everything that happened?”
“Sure thing, buddy… So I guess I should be going. It’s late,” Scott said while walking over to the door and opening it. “See you tomorrow at Derek’s?” he asked hopefully.
Stiles sighed again. “I’ll think about it,” he promised and moved to close the door behind his friend.
Once Scott was outside he took the stairs and went to his room. The window was still open since he had aired his room earlier and just as he reached out to close it he heard Scott’s voice outside.
He didn’t have werewolf hearing but his friend was talking loud enough for him to catch his own name.
“I don’t know Allison. He’s acting so strange… He asked me to give him time to process what happened, but to be honest I don’t know what that’s about. He was barely involved during the kanima thing. I would understand if Derek wanted time – but Stiles?”
That’s when his friend decided to finally start walking again.
Stiles couldn’t help the chuckle that was escaping his throat and after a few seconds it turned to a full grown fit of laughter. Yeah right. Barely involved…
He closed the window, turned towards the mirror on his closet door and lifted his hoodie and shirt. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, he had to admit, but it definitely was healing. So he got that working for him…
His thoughts wandered back to the dark and dusty basement and the things that had happened there and he shuddered violently. He had really considered telling Scott (nearly) everything but the moment he had opened his mouth to speak, Scott had already been rambling about how Allison had apologized to him and how cute she was and how her hair still smelled like roses.
Like the good friend he had always been he had kept his mouth shut and had listened for several hours to Scott’s “Ode to Allison”.
* * *
Stiles had been sitting over his essay for econ for about two hours when he felt his back starting to ache in a familiar way. He hadn’t changed his bandages for two days. The bandages really should be changed every day, but to be honest it wasn’t that easy to tend to wounds on your own back by yourself. It required patience and pretty obviously Stiles wasn’t known for his patience.
Well, he had no choice. He couldn’t afford an infection since that would undoubtedly lead to a visit at the hospital and that again would lead to his dad finding out.
So, not going to happen.
He winced when the dull, throbbing pain started to change to a sharp stabbing and hurried to get his hidden medical supplies.
The whip with the barbs had been the worst. It had left huge, gaping slashes all across his back and because of the barbs the cuts had not even been clean – they were fringed. He didn’t want to think about the massive scars they would leave once they were healed.
The boy took out the medicine he made himself, spiked with a special kind of mountain ash to cover the traitorous scents, and started to unwrap the bandages to clean his injuries.
It hurt like hell.
Pictures of Gerard holding the barbed whip in his hand, towering above his naked body came up in his mind and he whimpered involuntarily. He swore under his breath, gave himself a mental slap and started the cleaning with his ingenious invention.
Ooookay, so it was just a stick with some gauze taped around the tip that he soaked with disinfectant, but it worked pretty well.
Suddenly there was a noise outside his window and he was thankful for all the time he had spent with supernatural creatures because it had increased his reflexes immensely.
In a split second he had pulled his hoodie over his torso and thrown his shirt over the first-aid supplies - just in time to see Derek opening his window.
“You gotta be kidding me…” he cursed, “Did no one ever explain the concept of doors and doorbells to you?”
“Shut up, Stiles,” the alpha snarled. “You will attend the pack meeting tomorrow! No more skiving, quit skipping the meetings!”
“You can’t force me to come Derek,” the teenager hissed. Anger boiled up inside of him. Anger about the impudent wolves he had to deal with all day. He knew it wasn’t their fault. They didn’t know. But he was broken and he needed time to heal, time to forget, time without supernatural stuff or pack meetings.
“I can and I will. You are a member of my pack and attending the meetings is obligatory. You secluded yourself long enough. Stop whining over some stupid teenage shit and grow up already! I don’t even know what you are sulking about!” Derek spit out, spinning around towards the window again. “Show up, or I will come and get you myself!”
For a second Stiles wanted to scream that he would quit the pack, but he knew he would never do that – could never do that. They were his friends, his family. So he just stood there and watched as the wolf jumped out of his window.
Huh, the aftereffects of his medicine must be stronger than he had thought. The wolf hadn’t been able to smell the blood even though Stiles hadn’t even had the time to apply new medicine before he had been interrupted. Interesting.
“Soooo. Pack meeting it is,” he muttered to himself and went on to undress a second time.
* * *
He was late as he arrived at Derek’s loft the next evening. He’d had to take extra precautions so that none of the wolves would notice anything and it had taken him longer than he’d thought. Stiles really hoped it would be a quick meeting, some of the cuts on his back had opened again and it wasn’t easy for him to get his fingers on the good painkillers because his dad kept them in his cruiser.
Also he had a sneaking suspicion that his two broken ribs would never heal again, because he had nothing to stabilize them properly with.
Damn, he was pain on two legs and the fucking escalator was defect. Perfect…
As he finally reached the top of the stairs he was breathing heavily, clutching his hands to his ribs tightly.
He should have stayed home, but the second this thought crossed his mind the door flung open and he was face to face with Scott.
“Stiles! I’m so glad that you came!” his friend cheered and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. Hot pain flared through his whole body and he couldn’t suppress a whimper.
“Oh sorry, werewolf strength! Did I hurt you?” Scott asked, blinking innocently with his big eyes.
“Nah, don’t worry man, you just surprised me,” Stiles assured, slipping past his friend to enter the spatious apartment.
“You’re late,” was all Derek said, not even looking at Stiles, “Sit down and be quiet.”
“Welcoming as always, aren’t you?” the boy snorted as he slumped into the only available armchair left.
Before Derek could snarl something back he was cut off by Lydia.
“Stop bickering! Stiles stop acting like the child you still are and try to behave yourself for once! You are late and you missed the last meeting without a reason so you don’t have the right to be defiant,” she snapped and pointed one of her perfectly manicured fingers at him.
Everyone, even Derek, stared at her incredulously, but Stiles still noticed the slight agreement on most of his pack mates’ faces.
Well, he had wanted it that way so he should learn to cope with it. It had been his decision to keep quiet about the incident after all, so he just rolled his eyes and kept his mouth shut.
The next two hours passed really quickly and when the official part of the meeting was over, Stiles stood up to sneak out as silently as possible.
“Where are you going?! We said we’d watch a movie, right?” Scott grabbed his arm to pull him back.
“I’m just really, really tired dude, I think I should go,” he sighed, trying to sound as tired as possible.
He saw his friend pouting as he left but right now, he couldn’t care less.
It had hurt to hear Lydia say those things and see everyone agree. If they knew what he had done for them, every single one of them, they wouldn’t dare say stuff like that. But he had decided to protect them even more with hiding the truth and dealing with everything himself so he had to suck it up and let them think he was childish.
On his way home he realized that he hadn’t even lied to Scott, he really was tired.
Tired of all that shit.
He drove past his house and took the shortest route to the Beacon Hills graveyard.
Once there he strolled through the rows of graves till he reached his mother’s tombstone where he sank down to the ground, folding his legs to get a bit more comfortable with all his injuries.
“Hey mom,” he started talking, “I’m back… You’re the only one I can talk to right now, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. I just can’t tell them what had happened mom. They would be horrified and worst of all they would look at me with pity or even disgust and I can’t stand that…” Tears started running down his cheeks.
Finally.
“I miss you so much mom!”
He sat there for over two hours, crying and talking to his mother, before the ache in his limbs became way too much and he had to leave.
* * *
His carefully constructed house of cards crumpled the second he entered his room.
Derek sat in his chair with an unreadable expression on his face, staring at something on Stiles’ bed. He recognized what it was immediately. The older man had neatly arranged all of his secret medical supplies and the used and bloody bandages Stiles hadn’t had the chance to throw out before the meeting.
He was absolutely screwed.
“Uh…. Hi Derek? Can I help you?”
Good idea. Play it cool.
“What the fuck is this? I came over to talk to you about your strange behavior tonight and the last few days and then I found this, and – do you… hurt yourself?” Derek looked him over with an almost uncomfortable facial expression. He could literally watch the wheels turning inside Derek’s brain.
Oh god, the wolf thought he had to comfort a confused teenager who was hurting himself and he was so not up to it. The wolf’s face in that moment was like an open book to him – priceless.
If the situation hadn’t been so dangerous for his secret, he would have been laughing hard right now. He could picture Derek’s inner turmoil perfectly. Torn between his sense of responsibility over every member of his pack, and his broody and non-caring character (which, as everyone knew, was totally fake).
“Explain,” the wolf let his eyes glow red to show the graveness of his demand. “I don’t smell any injuries on you.”
“Well, there was this deer I grazed with my jeep and it – “
“STILES! Stop lying,” the alpha growled, agitated.
“Okay, okay! Calm down sourwolf! It’s just – promise me you won’t tell anyone first!”
His thoughts were racing; maybe he could get Derek to back off with telling a small part of the truth.
Derek took a moment to consider his request but nodded eventually.
“Ok. Now explain,” the wolf grit out, annoyed.
Stiles took a deep breath and fumbled with the hem of his hoodie nervously.
“So you remember when Gerard kidnapped me…?” Derek nodded again, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Well, I haven’t been completely honest about how long I was in that basement and about what happened there… Things got – a little bit rougher than I told you?” He hoped that this would satisfy the other man. To be honest, why should Derek Hale even care about what had happened. They were barely friends, Stiles was sure the wolf had never really liked him anyway.
Again the boy was lost in his thoughts so he only realized that Derek was talking when the wolf snapped his fingers in front of his face.
“Wha….?” He muttered slightly embarrassed.
“I said: show me!”
* * *
Stiles had been staring at his ceiling for what felt like eternity, still thinking about the fight he’d had with Derek.
“Stiles, show me!”
“I don’t want to!”
“I don’t care what you want, show me right now”
“Don’t even try using your stupid alpha voice on me big guy! I’m human, it won’t work! Please go home Derek.”
“Not unless you show me what he did! Stop acting like a five-year old.”
“I won’t! Now leave my fucking house, asshole!!”
After that the wolf had snarled at him and, for just a second, Stiles had been seriously scared that he would wolf out and jump him, but nothing had happened. Derek had jumped out of his window and had vanished into the night without another word.
Around 3 in the morning he finally fell asleep, not prepared for how hardheaded his alpha was…
* * *
He had the same dream he had every night since the basement. It started at Beacon High with someone chasing him, but he could not see who it was, he only heard the footsteps and some crazy cackling and when he made it to the exit and had stumbled through, he was in the basement.
And there he was, Gerard that crazy old bastard, waiting for him to start his little game. Usually that was the moment when Gerard took out the whip but this time it was different. He felt hands all over his body, touching him, pressing him down and all he could do was scream.
That’s when he woke up, breathing heavily, sweat running down his spine, just to realize the hands on his body were still there, still pressing him down.
He struggled to sit up but the person the hands belonged to must be pretty strong because they held him down effortlessly. When Stiles was close to completely losing it, the grip loosened and he heard a soothing voice trying to calm him.
He knew that voice!
“DEREK HALE!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME????” The boy was furious.
“No you idiot! I’m here for your body!”
Stiles’ mouth fell open. “You are what??” he stared at the wolf, befuddled.
“Oh, man,” Derek grunted, face palming “that totally came out wrong...”
“Sooooooooo,” the teenager mocked with a smug grin “you are here for your share of the Stiles-wonderland…?” He swore he saw a faint blush creep up to the alpha’s ears.
“Don’t make this more awkward than it already is dumbass,” Derek hissed “I’m here because I wanted to see for myself what you meant earlier when you said things got a little rougher than you admitted to us.”
Stiles paled visibly.
“You snuck into a minor’s room to undress him without consent during his sleep? What the hell is wrong with you, you creeper??”
“I am your alpha and I want to know the truth. So either you show me now, or I will figure it out myself. But if you insist on sleeping without me sneaking up to you, I would recommend you spill already.”
“Well, if you put it like that I have no choice but to take door number three: DAAAAAAAD THERE IS A MAN IN MY ROOM!!! HE IS TRYING TO MOLEST ME!” he yelled as loud as he could.
The smug look on Derek’s face should have been warning enough for him, but as the seconds passed and no Sheriff with his gun drawn blew through the door, he knew he had lost.
Exhausted he slumped back into his pillow. “Where is he,” he sighed with resignation.
“He left an hour ago. There was a suicide downtown. And now spill, this is starting to be absolutely ridiculous.”
“Why do you even care,” Stiles muttered, slowly rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.
There was a long silence after his question and just as he wanted to take his hands from his face to look at Derek, the wolf spoke again.
“Because you are important. To the pack. And to me, too,” Derek said quietly. “So please show me?”
Stiles would never admit that the alpha’s words made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, but he couldn’t hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. He was glad he still had his hands on his face. His thoughts were racing, but he trusted Derek and he always felt safer when the wolf was around.
“Derek,” he whispered finally looking at the other man through his fingers, “you have to promise.”
“Everything you need Stiles, just say it.”
“You have to promise that you won’t tell anyone, ever! Not the pack, not my dad, not Deaton, no one, Derek!” he gave the wolf a pleading look.
Derek stared at him with amazement; he had never seen Stiles with that kind of look on his face. Afraid, vulnerable, anxious, almost like he was broken inside.
“I… I promise.” He cleared his throat.
“Hm,” was all Stiles answered, playing with the hem of his long-sleeve.
“I guess I should warn you... it’s not a pretty sight.” With that he lifted his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift movement.
He heard a gasp and within a second Derek was all over him, eyes bleeding red, fangs bared.
“Are these whip-lashes?? And what is that down here, on your waist? Is that from a knife? Did he cut you?” the wolf gripped his arm.
“Whipped, cut, burned and beat me up. Not to mention the bad touching and groping and that they threw me out of the driving car about five miles away from my house. You sure you want to know all this shit Derek?” the teenager snorted sarcastically.
It was true after all, sarcasm was his only defense. Well, maybe not any more but that was something he had to figure out himself before he should share it with anyone, right?
“Bad touching…?” Derek visibly paled and his grip around Stiles’ biceps tightened. “Did they… I mean… Did he…?”
It was obvious what it was that he wanted to know and Stiles shook his head, mortified.
“No,” he whispered “I’m pretty sure he wanted though. But his men were hesitant when they noticed that I’m only sixteen. They were gone for a long time; I guess they discussed what to do with me, but Gerard did not come back and then they threw me out of their car.”
There was pure relief on Derek’s face.
“Where are you injured? I mean, I can see the wounds on your front but where else?”
The boy hesitated for a second, before turning his back to his alpha. “There… There are some cuts and burns on my legs, but they’re not too bad, I promise… He- Gerard was very fond of his barbed whip so I guess my back is worst?”
He shuddered when he felt fingertips grazing one of the deepest cuts and then the pain slowly faded. The wolf was taking his pain and honestly, he hadn’t felt that good in days.
“Thanks,” he muttered softly.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone? And more importantly: why didn’t you go to the hospital? You said they threw you out of a driving car, you could have broken bones or internal bleedings.” Derek didn’t stop drawing the pain from Stiles.
“Well, about broken bones… I’m pretty sure I have at least two broken ribs. But they will heal so there is no need for a doctor. And if I had gone to the hospital then they would have informed my dad. And how should I have explained that to him? ‘Hey dad, I’ve been kidnapped by a crazy old hunter who wanted information about my pack of werewolves and my alpha’? He doesn’t even know werewolves exist.”
“Ok, I see what you’re getting at, but why did you hide that from us? As you said we are your pack! We help and we care for each other. I could have helped you!”
“I don’t know… I think I couldn’t bare the pity in the eyes of my friends?” he said turning to face Derek again.
But there was no pity. There was admiration and affection and…pride?
“How could anyone look at you with pity after you protected your pack, not telling the hunters a thing even though you’ve been tortured!”
Derek smiled at him, still with the strange mix of affection and pride.
“Why do you think I didn’t screw you over and told them everything I know?” the boy asked drily.
“Because I know you and you would never let anything happen to your friends,” Derek told him without the hint of a doubt in his voice.
There was a long silence between them before Stiles spoke up again.
“Uh… Derek. There is more,” he didn’t dare look at his alpha.
* * *
“There is more…” He thought about the conversation he’d had with Stiles that night. How was he supposed to react to this? How could he possibly keep something like this from his pack?
But he’d promised he wouldn’t tell anyone.
Derek sighed and closed his eyes, not even bothering to listen to his pack’s conversations.
They had come to his loft this evening to watch some movies, but most of all to scavenge his snack stock.
“Hey, pack daddy! Something wrong with you?” Erica asked and flopped down beside him.
He snorted and opened his eyes again. “Other than feral teenagers eating me out of house and home?”
“I don’t know, you just seem a little more grumpy than usual,” the girl said and put one of the oreos she had managed to save from the rest of the pack in her mouth and chewed innocently.
“I bought the oreos for Stiles, you know?” He watched annoyed as the last cookie mysteriously vanished between her lips.
“Aw, don’t panic,” Isaac threw in from where he was stretching out on the floor, getting comfortable for the movie. “The crybaby won’t come anyway. He’s busy moping and living the emotional life of a teenage girl.”
The others laughed in unison, only Scott looked like he was slightly uncomfortable making fun of his best friend, but joined when he saw Allison was grinning too.
“Out….”
“Hm?”
“Get out! All of you!” He really struggled to stay in control, his claws piercing through the armrest of his new couch.
“You’re kidding, right? What do you mean ‘get out’? We haven’t even watched one movie yet…” Erica pouted.
There it was: his control waved him goodbye and disappeared through the door.
“I said, GET THE FUCK OUT!!!” Derek got up and grabbed Isaac’s shirt, dragging the boy towards the exit.
He pushed his beta through the door and let his face change to his wolfish form before he turned around to stare at the stunned rest of his pack.
“Am I speaking Chinese? Move,” he growled and put a hint of his alpha voice behind it.
That did the trick. His pack was moving fast now, getting out of his face. He shut the door behind them and leaned against the frame sighing.
That hadn’t been like him but hearing Isaac talking shit about Stiles had been too much. They should pamper the boy after everything he had done for them – but that was the problem… They didn’t know what he had done.
Maybe he shouldn't have promised to keep the boy's secret; sure the pack would probably treat him differently, but they would never pity him. But the problem was that he couldn’t tell them the whole thing, without spilling Stiles’ second secret as well… And that was really not his secret to tell.
Magic, huh... He should have seen that coming.
Derek had always sensed something special about Stiles, but he would have never have imagined the boy could be a spark.
"I told you that they were shocked and let me go after they noticed I am only sixteen; well that wasn't the whole story..."
"Tell me?"
"I'm not sure what happened... But I think I made them release me?"
At this point the boy started biting his lower lip nervously.
"What do you mean you made them?"
"I... I'm pretty sure I used magic?" The last word was merely audible.
Silence.
"You...what? Care to explain?"
"Derek I don't know! I think I freaked out when they started...touching me.... and something inside of me just snapped! I don't even know how I did that but something inside of me started to whisper, almost as if my own brain was chanting something and the next moment the men got away from me with blank faces, dragging the old bastard with them and then they just left. And I could hear Gerard yelling at them and then his voice was only a muffled sound and when they opened the door and took me upstairs, I saw one of them pushing his limp body into a closet. I really thought they killed him, but I learned later that he’d still been alive."
Stiles always started ranting whenever he was in distress.
"But why are you so sure that it was you, that you used magic on them? Maybe it was really just because of your age...?"
"I never told them my age, Der. But I thought how great it would be if someone could get rid of Gerard for me so that I could escape – and they did... Well it wasn't exactly the way I imagined it to happen but hey, what's being thrown out of a car compared to the stuff they were originally going to do to me, right?"
Derek nodded, slightly dumbfounded... He wasn't convinced at that moment, but of course Stiles was prepared to proof it.
"You don't believe me, do you."
A statement, not a question.
"But I have proof! I dug into it right after everything with Jackson and Gerard was over and I worked hard, but it was worth it... I think... Watch my fingers!"
At least that wasn't a hard thing to do. Derek had always been kinda obsessed with the slender and constantly moving fingers.
Stiles held his hand in front of Derek’s face and wrinkled his forehead, his trademark expression when he was trying to concentrate.
Nothing happened.
After a few moments Derek opened his mouth to comment on the utter lack of magic in front of him but suddenly tiny blue flames leaked out of Stiles' fingertips.
“What the hell!”
The wolf stared at the burning fingers in awe.
“You can touch them if you want… They only get hot when I want it,” the boy said smiling shyly.
For a few seconds Derek could only stare at the tiny flames dancing above Stiles’ fingertips but then he slowly reached for the flames.
First the only thing he felt was just cold, but suddenly sparks emerged from the flamelets and his own fingers started tingling when the small flames clung to them.
They felt – almost alive?
He couldn’t help playing with them, they were beautiful and somehow familiar as if they were the essence of everything Stiles was.
The feeling was overwhelming and intimate.
“Please Derek, don’t tell anyone. I won’t keep this a secret for long, they are my pack too, you know? But I… I need some time to process everything and I need to learn a bit more about sparks and magic. This is about me, not about the whole pack and I need to figure this out on my own. Is that ok?”
It took Derek a few seconds to answer, simply because he was completely lost in the boy’s pleading eyes – the eyes of a spark. Vibrant amber with blue sparks flickering all over the iris.
Absolutely beautiful…
Something inside of Derek reacted to those mesmerizing eyes, well, not something – his wolf. He was howling inside of him and he felt it with every fiber of his body and it took everything he had not to jump the boy right here, right then.
Derek cleared his throat and nodded.
“Take all the time you need, Stiles… But I have one condition. You will let me take care of your injuries, ok?”
“Ok,” Stiles said and looked at his fingers with a strange expression.
Only when Derek followed Stiles’ gaze did he see why – his own fingers were still playing with Stiles’, even though the flames had vanished.
“I’m sorry,” he said and tried to pull his hand back, but Stiles wouldn’t let go.
“Don’t be… I don’t mind if it’s you,” the boy mumbled and Derek watched fascinated as a deep blush creeped over Stiles’ neck and up to his cheeks and ears.
Beautiful.
The next few months Derek and Stiles developed a daily routine. Derek would swing by as soon as the Sheriff was fast asleep and help Stiles with his injuries and after that they would sit on Stiles’ bed and talk. Even when Stiles’ wounds were already healed or diminished to scars, a deep red contrast to his pale skin, Derek showed up every day. Sometimes they talked about their families, about the pack or the things that they had survived until now, and sometimes they just discussed the pros and cons of the Marvel and DC Universes – and Derek loved every second of it.
Stiles still didn’t come to pack meetings, but since Derek had told the pack that he wouldn’t allow anyone to badmouth Stiles ever again no one said anything about that.
Derek hadn’t been that happy anymore in a long time – not since before his family’s death – and of course that was the moment when all hell broke loose.
* * *
Something felt wrong. There was a strange buzzing in the air, almost like some kind of electricity. Stiles knew something was about to happen, something bad. He closed his eyes and sent his spark out to check the wards he had secretly put on each member of his pack and there it was.
Isaac’s ward was gone.
Stiles jerked his eyes open and hurried over to his desk to grab his cellphone and called Derek.
The older man answered after the third ring and Stiles was literally bouncing with impatience.
“Derek! Is Isaac with you?”
“No, Scott just called, Isaac didn’t come home last night. I’m meeting Scott right now to look for him. Do you know something?”
Derek’s voice was full of concern and worry.
“Derek… Isaac’s ward is gone,” Stiles answered, searching for his car keys simultaneously.
Silence…
“The ward? But you told me only you can lift the wards. You said that only dark magic would be able to break them…”
“Exactly. Derek, call the rest of the pack. We NEED to find Isaac. I’ll try to locate him; if I find him I’ll send you the information! And Derek…? Be careful, ok?”
He hung up before Derek could answer, snatched the map of Beacon Hills and the preserve he had on his desk and spread it on his bed.
It was simple magic he was about to do, he had done it a few times before just to practice, but never under the pressure that one of his friends was in danger and depended on his skills.
Stiles took a few deep breaths and let his spark swell inside of him, concentrating on Isaac and the desperate wish to find his friend.
A thin, glowing red line appeared on the map and made its way from the Stilinski house through the city, right into the preserve, passing the old Hale house, going deeper into the woods, just to stop in front of the river that parted the preserve a few miles beyond the Hale house.
“There you are, stay alive Isaac. We are coming to get you…” Stiles whispered to himself while he grabbed his keys and his phone to text Derek the location. He was almost out of his door when he remembered that there was something hidden deep inside his drawer that he should take with him. Something to help him fight whatever he was up against.
He rushed back to his desk and took a small vial out. It was filled with something that looked like some kind of smoke, dark blue, almost black, with tiny electrical blue sparks flashing through it. He had found this during one of his researches about magic but he’d never tried it before because the book he had found it in was very vague about possible consequences.
Stiles only hesitated for the fraction of a second.
He knew this was unbelievably dangerous, but he had no choice – so he put the vial into his pocket and left his room.
* * *
Derek, Scott, Erica and Boyd were the first to arrive at the location Stiles had texted Derek. It was a horrible sight. Isaac was crumbled to the ground, motionless, dried blood on his temple and all over his neck.
Derek wasn’t even sure if the boy was still alive, something was preventing him to hear or feel Isaac.
Probably the tall man standing above the boy, or maybe the barrier around the both of them. He snarled a warning as the man reached out for Isaac, but the man only laughed at that.
“Down, wolf! There’s nothing you can do and you know it.”
“What did you do to him and what the hell do you want,” Derek forced out through gritted teeth.
“Oh, don’t worry, I only sedated your pup a little bit, nothing happened to him – yet,” the man grinned, grabbed Isaac’s neck and lifted the unconscious boy effortlessly.
“See, I only need one werewolf for my ritual to destroy your cute little dimension, not a whole pack,” he said, pointing at something behind Derek.
He didn’t have to turn around to know that Allison, Jackson and Lydia had just arrived and were lining up right behind him with the others.
“You can’t have him, he is a member of my pack and I won’t allow you to lay another finger on him!” Derek roared, shifting to his beta form.
Again the man didn’t seem to be impressed.
“Cute, really cute, but I don’t see how you could possibly stop me from doing what I intend to do.”
He felt Stiles before he could even smell him and then he was there. Not behind him but right beside him, emitting an aura of power and anger and safety and care, and right there and then he finally got it. Everything clicked into place and he knew. The reason why his wolf was so obsessed with this boy, why HE was so obsessed with this boy.
The unpleasant voice of the intruder cut through his inner turmoil like glass through flesh and muscle.
“Oho, another member of your little pack…? The more the merrier, but that won’t safe this little pup here,” the man sneered.
Derek was ready to jump at the barrier, just to see if he could do any damage when he felt Stiles’ fingers closing around his wrist.
“Don’t,” Stiles whispered, “the barrier would kill you.”
He felt the boy’s hesitation before Stiles added “Derek, do you trust me?”
“Always. With my life and the lives of our pack,” Derek answered immediately and watched the relieved smile that spread over Stiles face.
“Then let me handle this.”
Even though everything inside of him screamed to never leave the boy’s side, to protect him, he trusted Stiles and that was enough for him to take a step back.
A gesture so powerful and significant that even their enemy caught up on it.
“Interesting, so the big bad alpha steps back to let a scrawny and skinny human fight his battles. Do you think I will spare him because he is human? Or do you want to use him as bait while you are working something out with your wolves?”
“He’s not a scrawny, defenseless human… He is my second, my emissary and my mate,” Derek growled back, pride vibrating in his voice.
He just knew that the rest of the pack were staring at his back as if he had just grown a second head, but he couldn’t care less. It felt liberating to say all of this out loud and he wouldn’t take anything back.
He looked at Stiles and saw the boy blushing before he grinned at Derek and winked at him.
“I think we have a lot to talk about Derek, but first I probably should take care of you,” Stiles said and turned back to the man, still holding Isaac up as if he were a doll.
“And what exactly do you think you can do? Emissary or not, that doesn’t impress me,” the man mocked and stepped closer to the barrier. “But if you insist on trying, do it. Humor me, little emissary.”
“You know what I like most about villains? They always tend to judge their opponents by their looks.”
With that Stiles pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed the vial from his pocket and in one fluid movement he threw the glass to the ground, freeing the curling smoke inside.
The man’s eyes widened as he watched Stiles inhale the smoke.
“Impossible! You can’t be…” he rasped, letting Isaac fall back to the ground.
It was almost as if the smoke were breaking through Stiles’ skin from the inside, filling every scar with dark blue and tiny sparks dancing all over his body.
The boy closed his eyes and pulled at his spark, it was so much more powerful now, almost overwhelming. But he was prepared, he would never lose focus, he had an anchor.
He opened his eyes again, feeling the power seep through him like a thunderstorm.
“Derek,” he said, not taking his eyes of the man inside the barrier, “go get Isaac.”
The man laughed but it stuck in his throat as he saw the alpha approaching him without hesitation.
“You will die if you so much as touch my ward! He is getting you killed!”
But Derek kept walking, not even wincing as he reached the barrier – and went straight through it.
The man howled as if someone had dumped a bucket of boiling water on him and tried to get to Isaac first, but he couldn’t move.
Stiles wouldn’t let him.
“YOU!! How are you doing this you stupid little freak! I am Nox, warlock of the kingdom of tears, destroyer of dimensions! Nothing can stop me!” the man screamed in outrage.
“Apparently I can, so stop your yapping or I’ll seal your mouth, too,” Stiles retorted and took a few breaths. despite all this power surging through his veins, this was exhausting and he wasn’t sure how long he could hold his ground.
“Derek, hurry and get Isaac to a safe place!”
The alpha reached Isaac and lifted the unconscious boy up from the ground.
“Got him! We’re coming back now!” he yelled and broke into a sprint. Once he was outside the barrier, Stiles pulled at his spark again, he needed every drop of power he could find if his plan should succeed.
“Guys you have to step back! I don’t know what will happen but I need you to be safe, ok?”
Surprisingly it was Scott that spoke first.
“Stiles, I don’t understand what is happening here, but I won’t let you deal with this alone and hide behind you! Let me help!”
Stiles sighed. That was not the best moment for Scott to try and make up for being a bad friend.
“Derek, trust me. Keep them safe! Get them to step back!”
He could hear various protests as Derek started to herd his pack away from Stiles, Scott and Lydia were the loudest, but it worked. He was pretty sure Derek knew that he needed them to be safe so that he could concentrate on dealing with the warlock without having to worry about his friends.
The warlock was mumbling something under his breath and Stiles just knew that it was some kind of counter spell to prevent Stiles from following his plan.
He had to act very fast and put all of his power behind it, too, otherwise they were all screwed.
He felt that his spark was ready and he reached deep down into it and unleashed his magic.
Right beside the warlock the air started shimmering and moving, until a hole in the shape of a triangle opened in midair and started sucking in everything that was too close to it.
Leaves, small branches, grass… Everything was sucked mercilessly into the triangle.
The warlock’s eyes grew wide. “No! No don’t, please!! I didn’t mean to harm him!! Please don’t! I… I can give you power!! More than you ever dreamed of! PLEASE,” he screamed and begged, but Stiles didn’t even listen. He was concentrating on the triangle, on keeping it in line. He couldn’t risk letting it get out of control. It took an enormous amount of power and energy and he could feel that he was losing both.
There was no time, he had to end this before it got out of control, he needed more power.
“DEREK!!!” he screamed and within a second the wolf was next to him.
“Derek I need power to end this, I’m at my limits. Please….” Stiles whimpered and held his hand out, hoping Derek would trust him enough to let him do this. A wave of relief flooded him as he felt Derek’s large, rough hand grab his, slotting their fingers together.
Stiles concentrated on Derek’s alpha power, only taking as much as he would need to end all of this.
He straightened his back and focused back on the triangle and the still struggling upper body of the warlock and pushed. Blood was trickling down from his nose, dripping from his chin and he heard Derek yell his name, but he kept pushing until Nox had vanished completely into the diaphanous triangle.
Stiles heaved a sigh of relieve as the hole closed and let go of his consciousness – and of Derek’s hand.
* * *
It was warm and unbelievably comfortable; this moment had potential to be perfect – except for the loud and annoying voices talking right next to his ears.
Rude.
“Ssssssshhh, Stiles wanna sleep…” he slurred and that seemed to have worked, because the voices stopped. He snuggled back into the warmth and sighed contentedly.
But of course that was not how his life worked – only seconds of peace were granted him, before the voices were back, even louder than before and when he felt hands grabbing his arms and shoulders he said good bye to sleep reluctantly.
Opening his eyes was harder than he had expected, but everything was just too bright, so he needed a few minutes to discern more than blurry outlines.
The whole pack was assembled around him, looking down at him with relief and concern, but most of his vision was filled with a very concerned Derek, who had his hands all over Stiles.
“Aaah, that’s why I can’t sleep,” Stiles mumbled and tried to sit up, but Derek’s hand on his shoulder pushed him back softly.
“Easy Stiles, don’t try to get up yet, ok? Everything is ok but you have to take it a notch down right now. You’ve exhausted yourself when you fought the warlock, just stay in bed a little bit longer.”
Ah right, the warlock, he had fought and banned him… Something important was trying to break to the surface of his sleepy mind, but what was it… What…
Despite the hand on his shoulder he shot up, eyes wide. “Isaac! Is he alright??”
“I’m fine, thanks to you and Derek,” Isaacs shy voice came from somewhere in the room, only as Boyd and Jackson steeped aside could Stiles see him. He was shuffling his feet anxiously.
“Thank God, I was so worried about you,” Stiles sighed and sank back onto the pillows.
“So I guess I passed out after I banned the warlock, huh?”
Lydia snorted and sat down at the end of the bed. “Derek was screaming so much we thought you were dead or something. We’ve never seen him so agitated before and then of course Scott was freaking out trying to give you mouth to mouth which resulted in Derek trying to kill Scott because he touched you. In hindsight, knowing that you are ok, it is pretty hilarious. Boyd and Jackson had to restrain Derek so that Scott could carry you to the cars and Erica and Allison took Isaac and then we brought you to Deaton. End of the story is that Deaton patched you up and we took you home. Well, Derek’s home of course.”
She took his hand and cleared her throat. “Derek told us about Gerard, Stiles. Before you get mad at him, I made him. We saw the scars and after the incredible things you did today, I made him spill. I, no, WE owe you an apology, we are the worst friends ever for not noticing what you went through all alone,” she said, voice soft and rough at the same time.
“Not alone,” Stiles gave her a small smile, “I had Derek and you didn’t know. So I guess it’s ok.”
“No it’s not,” Scott and Isaac said simultaneously.
“I am your best friend and didn’t notice that something was wrong,” Scott said sadly, head hung low.
“And I even made fun of you during the pack meeting, calling you a cry baby! I’m so sorry Stiles, and now you even saved me. I don’t know how you can forgive me, us…” Isaac whined, looking like a beaten puppy.
“Guys, please, you’re making me all emotional here! Let’s just leave all this shit behind and start fresh, ok? We’re a pack, remember?” Stiles gave them his best and brightest smile.
“We really don’t deserve a friend like you,” Allison smiled back, standing next to Scott, showing her adorable dimples.
“I’ll remind you of what you said today the next time you tell me that I’m annoying,” he laughed and made fingerguns at her.
“Oh God, he is doing IT again! Derek, tell him that he is not allowed to do this ever again!!” Erica groaned while the rest of the pack rolled their eyes at Stiles.
Derek cleared his throat and gave Stiles a wink.
“Stiles you know that’s not cool… That’s not how this works,” he said and turned towards his pack.
Derek pulled the most grumpy face he could and flashed his fingerguns at the others.
Stiles laughed so hard he saw spots dancing over his vision, while Erica buried her face in her palms and muttered that this was definitely worse than any Dad joke ever made.
At that the whole pack chimed in and even Lydia was giggling uncontrollably. It took them several minutes to calm down again.
Lydia cleared her throat, got up and straightened her skirt. “Well, I think we should let you rest a bit more, Deaton was quite clear about that.” She threw the rest of the pack pointed looks and headed towards the door.
“Yeah, she’s right… Call if you need anything, Bro,” Scott said and then they left the room.
Well, except for Derek.
As the door closed behind Boyd, Stiles sighed.
“Sooooo,” he started, cheeks reddening slightly, “I remember there is something we need to talk about…”
“Yeah,” Derek grunted.
“So –“ Stiles was cut off by Derek’s lips pressing desperately against his own.
He froze, so overwhelmed from what was happening that he didn’t even think about kissing back.
Derek broke the kiss immediately, looking at Stiles in horror.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry Stiles! I thought that we –“ This time Stile’s lips cut Derek off, he buried his hand in Derek’s hair to pull the other even closer and when Derek moaned slightly and cradled Stiles face with his hands, Stiles took the chance to deepen the kiss.
Neither of them could tell how long they’d been kissing, but when they eventually broke the kiss, both of them were breathless and Derek was more or less on top of Stiles, pressing his whole weight down on him.
Derek bent his head down and nuzzled his face against Stiles’ neck, inhaling deeply, while his wolf hummed contentedly.
“So, mates huh…?” Stiles said, letting his hands wander to Derek’s sides, trying to press even closer to the older man.
“Uhum…” Derek hummed, while licking a stripe from Stiles’ collarbone up to his jaw, making the teenager moan and giggle at the same time.
Stiles really needed to know what all of this meant, even though Derek constantly kissing and sucking his neck made it really hard to think right now.
“And.. Oh God Derek your stubble is killing me… And is this mate-thing a forever-thing, like it is for real wolves…?”
Derek stopped and pushed himself up so that he was able to look at Stiles who was wearing a thoughtful expression.
“It is. Well, at least for me it is a forever-thing,” he said, averting his eyes.
“Good,” Stiles whispered and pulled Derek back in for another kiss, even more desperate and heated than the first one, ignoring the catcalls coming from the next room.
Right now he had everything he ever wanted and he would never let go of it for the rest of his life – or better, THEIR lives.