I

Stiles was bored. His mind was buzzing approximately a thousand things, research for the pack, the artifact he found from the last fight with pixies, and Derek's ever present misplaced anger at him for "constantly throwing himself in the middle of trouble when he didn't have werewolf healing."

Well, fuck your werewolf healing. Stiles was a spark. The energy of the earth thrummed in his veins, pounded in his ears, and made everything he touched sing with electricity. He wasn't without his own protection, and honestly Stiles thought that was better.

Stiles could heal, call on the Earth to defeat most of the enemies they'd encountered over the past few years. Deaton was even teaching him different spells and rituals from ancient sparks that could be useful.

One day, he might be the pack emissary, but honestly he wasn't sure what route he wanted to take. He had just turned eighteen, but honestly he grew up right when he took the avenue down into the World Supernatural. He really just wanted a break. Scott and Derek had yet to come to an agreement over the "pack" but they loved to share him for the research, make him outline their attack techniques, and basically be their chauffeur when it came to down to it.

Stiles wished he felt annoyed, but honestly after being the token human for so long, he was so happy his powers thrived and he found his place, even if the pack was barely a real thing. He and Derek were getting along better too, almost as close as he and Scott. Stiles still didn't really understand it and thought himself lucky. After Derek had been fucked over so many times, Stiles thought it was crazy he of all people was the one he trusted. Maybe it was something with Stiles maturing. Scott had swayed from Stiles now that he was involved with Isaac (and sometimes Allison), but it always happened, just like it had in highschool with Allison. That was a subject he didn't even want to broach.

Come to think of it, he hadn't spoken to Scott in a few days since the pixie attack. It took a while for him to recover. Werewolves were no match for the mischievous pixies, who had tricked all of the pack- Isaac, Scott, Boyd, Erica, and even Derek- to fight against each other so they didn't have to directly kill to take over the Hale territory.

It had only taken a simple negotiation for the pixies to leave. They only wanted to Hale territory because of a special flower that could grow there. The flower held their elixir of life, but Stiles searched and searched through old records for another piece of land that could do the same. Stiles' had checked with the neighboring packs before negotiating the moves. Some packs could handle more than one natural entity in its space, but the size of the Hale territory had diminished greatly since Derek's family had flourished there.

The only reason Stiles got hurt in the first place was because it was never a good idea to try and step between fighting werewolves, but he was damned if the pixies were going to kill his pack without trying to stop them. It took a lot of energy to heal the wolves, and later himself. For some reason, pixie dust slowed the healing process down almost as if an alpha had attacked each of them.

Derek was beyond furious when he came to. Stiles had blood dripping down his arms, claw marks on each arm and some that reached his neck, but really weren't as deep. The pack was ashamed for hurting him and it showed. His dad didn't even try to kick them out as they piled around and in his bed. That was the only part he really remembered. Derek slid in beside him, his hand slightly resting on Stiles' shoulder as he applied his werewolf pain reliever to his injured body. Erica was crammed in the other side and had kissed his cheek when she saw him.

Boyd, Isaac, and Scott slept on the floor around the bed.

Stiles didn't even remember the artifact the pixies gave him in exchange for negotiating the land with another pack. Derek delivered it to Deaton right after Stiles had been dropped with Mrs. Mccall to recover. He looked at his phone. One text message.

[From Derek 15:30pm]
Deaton wants you to go to his office to discuss the artifact at 5.

[To Derek 15:32pm]
Yeah, yeah big guy, I know you've missed me. See you there.

He closed his phone with a satisfied sigh and completely ignored the burning sensation in his stomach. It had everything to do with the fact that he had slept 13 hours, failed to eat, and nothing to do with Derek.


Author Notes:

Hi! Welcome to my first Teen Wolf fic. If you can't tell, I was slightly inspired by Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series. I haven't even made it all through the first book yet, but it's awesome and you should check it out. This wasn't betaed, and I have no idea where I plan on going with this. There probably won't be any explicit sex, but I will warn if anything triggering occurs. Thank you for reading!