His light was so utterly suppressed, so completely engulfed by charred insides, that the faerie could feel it rattle him from miles away from the house. He tells himself to ignore it, and just keep running. He has to keep going. If he stops, they could catch him. The closer he came to the house, though the stronger the light's presence became. The energy was pulling him closer. He couldn't fight the urge to run towards the house. He wasn't but a few feet from the clearing of the house, before he was pressed against the dirt with claws at his neck accompanied by a horrifyingly wolfed-out face.
"What are you and why are you here?" growled the man, as he sniffed the teen.
"I'm sure you're aware that there are things other than werewolves that go bump in the night." Replied the faerie sarcastically, "and my name is Tristan."
"That doesn't answer my question." the man stated flatly, ignoring the boys snide comment.
"I am Fae, and I need help," glared the boy as the man's grasp tightened at his throat. The teen's slender figure was overpowered by the werewolf's massive frame. "Please, I was running and I could hear ya'll and I have nowhere else to go. Please," the young man pleaded.
The faerie could hear the worrying thoughts before he heard the boy's concerned voice pipe up, "come on Derek, and let him come in. He's covered in blood and now dirt because of you."
The house was just as dead inside as it had looked from the outside. His head was already throbbing from the events earlier, and all the questions jumping out at him were not helping. Granted that everyone in the room was silent, and it was just their thoughts bombarding him, he wished they'd just silence their thoughts as well.
The one who was cleaning his small number of wounds and calls himself Stiles had the most invasive and numerous questions protruding from his mind. "My name is Tristan, and yes I am a faerie Stiles-"
"What! Oh my god, how did you kn-" Stiles was cut off by Tristan, "I can hear every word you think. I can even delve deeper, but that's a tad daunting and intrusive if the other is not willing." The fellow teenagers automatically grew tense and Derek's eyes flashed red. "Alright, you know, I'm not forcing myself into your heads. You project your crap outwards. It's hard to guard yourself when ya'll project so easily." He glared at them, and Derek returned the glare. He projected a message to Derek. This seems to be the only way to communicate privately with you, and I'll say this again, I just need a little protection, at least until I can figure out where I can go.
Derek's eyes widened, if only for a second, before returning to that pinched glare he favored. "And what is it you seek protection from?" he said aloud.
The teenager had to struggle to keep his voice level and the tears away as he recalled the events of the past evening, "I don't know who or what it is. I just know they killed my family. They just came in from nowhere. We thought we were safe. It was supposed to be a safe haven for us fae, but they found us. I- I got away; they didn't see me at first and I was able to shift consciousness and slip away. I didn't know where to go so I just kept running. Then I heard you guys, and I'm sorry. I really am, but I don't know what else to do." His eyes were pleading as Derek's glare softened for a second at the mention of family, but then had hardened just as quick. He heard Derek think it and answered him before he could voice his question, "I know I'm putting all of you in danger, and you don't know anything about me. You have no reason to help me, but please. I have no one. I don't know why, but I was pulled here by . . . something."
He didn't even need to delve into the man's mind to see that the man understood. His eyes told him all he needed to know. "Fine, but you help out with the pack and no secrets," said Derek definitively, "meaning you tell us everything about yourself, and everything you know about the ones who attacked you. We already have our own problems to worry about."
"Yes, of course," he agreed immediately.
"You can stay with me tonight." suggested Stiles.
"Thank you," the faerie replied quietly.
"Well, we're heading off!" called the black haired one named Scott as he and three other werewolves left with him, leaving himself, Stiles and Derek.
Stiles started to clean up the trash that'd been left behind from when Tristan asked, "Some kind of get together for your pack?" and Derek stalked his way up the creaky and unforgiving stairs.
"Don't mind him. He isn't exactly the most social of werewolves. And to answer your question, yes we were just finishing up a pack meeting when you came bustling out of the woods. And dude, I swear all of their ears pricked up and noses were twitching crazily when they heard you." A growl from above had given Stiles the biggest grin, along with some thoughts that hadn't surfaced until now.
Tristan didn't need to read this kids mind to see that he was on edge and extremely fidgety. There was something different about his energy. He tried pinpointing what it was and where it was coming from, because it felt familiar, but he himself was still getting used to his faerie powers. He didn't know he was staring intently at the teen until he was abruptly pulled from his trance when Stiles spoke.
"How does it work? Is it some whole freaky cool shebang where you see their mind and read out the thoughts or do you hear it like another voice, and does it feel weird? Oh my god how insanely cool it must be! I bet it comes in handy, ya know. Well, if you faerie folk know what I'm getting' at," Stiles blurted out endlessly as they got into his car to go to Stiles' home.
"Uhm, well, let's say it's all like frequencies. The way I look, and how I and others see myself is a certain frequency. Each being has a frequency where they have the most open thoughts, usually projected unknowingly for someone of fae to hear. As well as thoughts that are just lingering, always present, just not at the forefront. So yes, it's like little voices inside my head. They're always intruding into my own head, and I often have up my own wall to keep them out, but I can also reach out to focus on a certain person. And then there are frequencies that play the deeper thoughts, the thoughts that are locked up and guarded. Those are the ones that are harder to reach. Each person has a way of keeping those thoughts in and locking them up. They can be anything, but usually they're memories, memories that one wants to keep safe. And – "
Stiles rushed out his words cutting him off, "Whoa, so like dude, I could just be thinking about something completely random and be projecting it and not even know it? Wow. Is that all you can do? Hear what others are thinking?"
Laughing, he replies, "Yes like that, and no there's plenty more, even things I haven't learnt of yet, since. . ." he trailed off, but continued, "but on a lighter note, a faeries essence lies with energy, like the natural energy of the world. The most common is light, which is mine and my family's essence, or being you could call it. Light and energy is the base of our power, and it all coincides with the mind and soul. We can feel a person's light. No matter what creature they may be, they have light within. Such as your friend Derek, who has a very strong light inside of him, though obscured by an engulfing darkness. It's deep and obscured, but he definitely has it. Often us fae are needed to help keep that light strong, and make sure it's the driving force that keeps a person going. We make sure the light is what guides their choices, which is very prominent in you Stiles."
"Oh, well, uh thanks! I guess?" the teenager responds awkwardly, "Oh! And if I may–"
"Yes, I do like guys, and yes I do find you attractive Stiles." He says with a smile, "Although sexuality with faeries is fairly open, I do lean towards men greatly."
Making mini fist pumps in the air he shouts, "YES!"
Laughing, the faerie responds "I'm glad that made you happy, but your mom Stiles, I can feel how much you miss her."
Stiles just listened in as Tristan explained his being in Beacon Hills, which was quite easy for him to stay focused on, seeing as Tristan's voice soothed both him and his father. His explanation was believable too. He explained that his parents were stuck after a cancelled flight from Dallas, Texas, and wouldn't be able to board another flight for a few days. He elaborated on the fact that he had no baggage, saying his bags were put onto the wrong flight. Stiles' father took the bait, making Stiles wish he could lie like that. This put a smirk on Tristan's face. Stiles then took Tristan up to set him up in his room.
"I can sleep downstairs on the couch; the bathroom is at the end of the hall by the stai– dude. . .? You alright?" Stiles questioned as a blank stare had settled on the faeries face.
"I had this feeling . . . this pull earlier. I couldn't exactly tell what it is, but now . . . after being in your home . . . I can feel your mother's energy. I can feel it lingering, and I feel it deep inside of you Stiles. You are what pulled me here. Did you ever notice anything . . . different with your mother? Like whenever you may have been up to something mischievous and she always knew. Granted you are a bad liar. But it was as if she could see through you and into your head?" Tristan urged, rather than questioned.
"What . . . what are you getting at? Are you saying what I think you're saying? Oh my god, there is no way! How could I not have known? Wouldn't have done some kind of cool powers stuff or something? Like you said, you guys can do a whole bunch of stuff, which even you don't know all of yet. Is she. . ."
"Yes Stiles, your mother was a faerie, which means you are half-faerie." He explained.
Eyes widening as everything sunk in, "But . . . so like . . . does that explain all the thoughts in my head? I never understood it, and my mom died before she could explain any of it to me, I guess? I just always thought it was . . . I just always listened to what the doctors said. Wow, so they were never really all my thoughts? I was really just hearing everyone else? How was I not able to decipher that . . .OH MY GOD HOW LAME! I'm a FAERIE? Oh my god, Scott and Erica and Isaac and them, they get to be badass werewolves with growly teeth and snarls and I get to be all sprinkly and spritely and faerie-y?! . . .oh my god, but, like no offense. I just . . .
"I understand, and none taken. Still, faeries can be pretty cool. And no, you don't sprinkle faerie dust and have sparkly wings. Sorry to disappoint," the faerie replied with just a hint of sarcasm. "But, yeah, I think because your mom never told you, you were never able to decipher that they were other people's thoughts. It also explains why you were never able to pinpoint who was thinking what. You were never told, so you could never be taught." The faerie responded calmly.
"So. . . wow. Can you like-" Stiles started.
"Yes, I can teach you what I know, and thank you for letting me stay, and steal your bed," he laughed adding, "and your dad can take me in and sign me up for school tomorrow?"
"Yeah, yeah of course! How old are you anyway?" Stiles asked quietly, turning to face his fellow faerie.
"I'm sixteen," Responded the boy quickly.
"I'm sorry your family died, I can relate somewhat, and I know what it feels like and I'm really sorry," Stiles blurted and before he even knew it he was pulling the other boy into an awkward elbow filled hug.
"Thank you," he quietly whispered into Stiles' ear.
Luckily, Stiles was able to utilize Danny's help to get Tristan's schedule match his. This allowed Tristan to help Stiles practice honing in on a singular thought, and pinpointing who it belongs to. By the end of the school day, he's able to separate what thoughts come from whom, but he isn't able to focus on one thought at a time too well. All Tristan can hear on the way home is how excited Stiles is to not just be human. He doesn't have to be Scott's Robin anymore. Stiles couldn't shut up the whole ride there.
"Like oh my god, dude! I, like, have played so many online games . . . and I thought it was so cool, the . . . the mystical creatures and, and now I am one. And oh my god!" Stiles babbled on the route to Derek's.
Tristan replied laughing, "And I thought you had too many thoughts bustling around in your head alone."
"Oh, now hush; I want this to be a big reveal!" Stiles ordered as they pulled up in front of the Hale house.
"You want what to be a big reveal? You finally got-" Erica started to say sarcastically, as Stiles and Tristan stepped into the house.
"No! Well, not yet at least! But I have an important announcement, with which Tristan here, our new faerie-friend, has helped me learn of." He cut Erica off breathily.
The pack just stood there, staring flatly at Stiles. They grew irritated as Stiles hesitated when his gaze met Derek's. "I'm a faerie! Or, well technically half faerie. Since my mom was a full faerie, and my dad is well . . . dad – human. I hope that is ok with–" Stiles spilled out, but was cut off by Scott. The pack look slightly shocked, but understood since it explained why a part of Tristan's scent smelt familiar.
"There always was something different about your scent. I just assumed it was a part of the 'Stiles' scent, but well, that explains it." Scott replied.
Stiles was too enamored with Derek to acknowledge Scotts response. The two were staring at each other like it was some contest. Who could hold the others gaze longest before one faltered? Tristan instantly knew what was taking place. He knew that kind of look. Nobody needed to be in their head to know what was happening between the werewolf and half-faerie. Stiles could finally get in Derek's head, and he loved it. The boy couldn't stop grinning from ear to ear. He finally knew what that sourwolf was thinking.
That poker face of his wasn't going to work any longer.