AN- NO BETA. And the usual 'I don't own this and am making no money off of it' insert.
I'll just leave this here. Another Teen Wolf story...'sighs'
Love it? hate it? It's here, it's queer, get used to it.
The title is from Shakespeare. Culture to the face, bitches. "All days are nights to see till I see thee/And nights bright days when dreams do show me thee."
Sonnet 43, 13-14
It was the wolf that noticed it first, inborn instinct really. Derek should have known better to ignore it, carelessly dismissing the input from the other half of himself. If he started to do that, he would be not better than that little fool Scott. The boy who didn't see the bite for the gift that it was thought his wolf was something that was separate from himself, an entity that needed to be tamed or controlled like an animal. That kind of thinking would only do him more harm than good in the long run and even might make him lose control or eventually get him killed.
Even though Derek was one with his wolf and had been since birth, he resisted. He questioned his other half, the deepest parts of himself in disbelief. The man felt the animal within was wrong, had to be wrong, at least about this. The wolf snarled back, hurt by the questioning and ultimately, the denial. It roared that it would know its mate.
It was the only consistent ongoing argument that Derek had with himself but it was the one that unbalanced him the most. A mate was a serious matter and one that was not taken lightly by any werewolf, even more so with an alpha. A mate meant home and security, giving a peace similar to bliss. Pack, family, and unity was all to a wolf, making every member stronger, faster, and most importantly, whole.
A mate was for life though. It was not something you could drop on someone who was not only human with no prior lifetime knowledge of werewolves but also someone who wasn't even old enough to buy a pack of cigarettes legally.
It was complicated on many, many different levels, so much so Derek chose to shove all of it to the back of his mind, ignoring instinct that chewed his nerve endings raw every single time he encountered the object of his wolf's desire. In answer, the wolf retaliated, bodily slamming itself against the cell of his body, their body, demanding that he take what was his, what was theirs. It whined pitifully when Derek pointedly ignored their mate. The lupine howled sad songs that shook the marrow of his bones when Derek was vicious to his mate, usually more so than he actually needed to be. His inner self curled in upon itself, tail between its legs when Derek sent his….their mate away each and every time.
Loneliness was depressing enough to humans but loneliness for wolves was crippling, like dying by inches. Cloyingly painful was the need for pack, even more so for one's mate. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and even Jackson filled in some of the burned out void, making Derek's life bearable. Even being around Scott was helpful in its own way, though the source of his inner turmoil came nearly attached at the hip with the young wayward werewolf.
No, Stiles would never find out. Derek vowed on the moon itself that he would not. The wolf made so such promises though.
Derek should have known better.
In the end, the wolf always was right.
It always won.
Harry Potter was an asshole.
Well no, he wasn't. Stiles actually liked the books a lot, but he definitely was beginning to have some serious misgivings about how magic was presented in them. It wasn't as easy as the wizards had led him to believe. There was no fancy wand flicking, no brooms to fly on, no snazzy robes.
Oh, there were potions though. Potions made from icky smelling things and usually involved a lot of squishy organs and bodily fluids. Stiles was getting pretty damn good at getting out blood stains, mending burns, and the more often than he would have liked 'oh my fucking god, what the hell is that? Is that spleen? When did I handle spleen?' splatter out of his clothing.
Spells were a bitch and a half too. Books and tv made them look so easy to cast, like Latin could just roll off of the tongue. At the beginning of his training, Stiles figured hell if two jackasses from Kansas driving around in an Impala could do it, he could to. It turned out, not so much.
In reality, magic was a whole lot of blood, will, and intent. Oh, and a whole buttload of concentration which Stiles was currently having some problems with as Lydia, Deaton, and himself took cover behind the solid mountain ash wood counters of the clinic…..again.
Stiles wondered where his life had taken such a wrong and twisted turn when a wave of blue flame burning overhead didn't particularly phase him anymore. Oh yeah, now he remembered. When his best friend got bitten by a crazy werewolf and his reality merrily went to hell in a hand basket.
"I thought you said you have been practicing the meditation techniques I taught you.", Deaton said wearily as pale ash lightly dusted all the them with a strange shimmering sparkle.
"I have! Totally….yes….", Stiles attempted to defend himself. It wasn't his fault he had so much on his mind and honestly Adderall could only do so much. Between the drama of Jackson being a lizard assassin thing, the threat of the alpha pack looming overhead, and his own newly discovered talent for magic, Stiles admittedly had a lot on his plate at the moment, more so than the average teen and the normally prescribed dosage had to deal with. Like his current unusual problem of maintaining a fireball that apparently shed glitter like a girl going to prom when it exploded.
"Obviously.", Lydia sniped, wrinkling her perfect nose in disgust at the sparkly mess that used to be her outfit.
"Crap. It's like pixie exploded in here. How do you get this stuff off?", Stiles groaned, picking himself off of the ground now that threat of being flambéed alive was over. He halfheartedly attempted to dust himself off to find that the glitter clung to his skin.
"Why are you asking me?", Lydia sighed in distaste, finding that she was getting the same result.
"You're a member of the female persuasion.", Stiles shrugged, grinning lopsidedly at her.
"So?", Lydia arched a brow of warning, daring Stiles to continue that train of fail thought, which he did of course. It made Deaton and her wonder if Stiles even bothered such concepts like self-preservation.
"C'mon, glitter to girls is like crack. Everyone knows that. So what's the secret? How do I get this shit off and will I have to sacrifice a testicle to find out?", Stiles flailed around a bit which did nothing to alleviate his state of sparkle. "And should I be worried that this is making me feel pretty?".
"I think you should be worried about a lot. What about me or my couture fashion sense makes you think I would know anything about trashy stripper glitter?", Lydia said with a withering glare. Stiles swallowed hard, wondering how he was going to get out of the hole he had just dug himself in. It was rapidly turning into his own grave, if Lydia's expression was anything to go by.
"Moving on.", Deaton interrupted, Stiles silently blessing the man for his innate sense of timing. "Let us finish up the lesson for this evening before cleaning up. I want to talk to you both about your spirit animals. I think it is about time since both of you are nearing the astral plane."
"The astral plane? That sounds creepy. Is it creepy?", Stiles took off his hoodie to try and shake some of the glitter ash out. It was starting to itch.
"It's the spaces between worlds and reality. We're going to spirit walk, aren't we?!", Lydia sounded positively excited about the prospect.
"Very good. I glad to see someone has been actually reading what I have assigned them.", Deaton sighed, pointedly looked at Stiles who had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed about it.
"I've been reading…", Stiles made a study of the ceiling to avoid seeing Deaton's perpetual look of infinite patience tinged with disappointment. "It's not my fault some chapters are more interesting than others. Did you know that mermaids sink ships cause they might have books on them?".
"As important as learning the bestiary is to your education and ultimately your survival, you are going to learn about your spirit guides tonight.", Deaton taking control of the conversation again or at least attempted to.
"Is that like a Patronus?", Stiles's mind whirled at the possibilities.
"Yes? That is comparable and if it helps you grasp the concept, then yes, yes it is.", Deaton sighed. Stiles was an near infinite source of Harry Potter references at the best of times. Learning magic only seemed to increase their occurrences. "Your animal is more than that though. It will be your avatar on the astral plane, allowing you to interact safely with other supernatural creature on a spiritual level. It will guide you when you are lost in fractured realities and will guard you in more ways than you can conceive at this point in time. It will be your fiercest guardian, your closest ally, and your truest friend. ".
"This isn't some psycho babble, like getting to know our inner selves, is it?", Lydia didn't look impressed about that prospect. This was starting to sound like the New Age physiatrist her parents had tried sending her to, the one she had made cry and run out of the office within five minutes of their first and last session together.
Both teens jumped back as a barn owl appeared out of nowhere to land on Deaton's shoulder, twisting its heart shaped face to look at them upside down. "Does this look like babble to you?", Deaton smiled gently at his bewildered students, the sorcerer in hiding reaching up to pet his familiar. "Come with me.".
"Where?", Lydia and Stiles ended up saying at the same time, each in a different tone. Lydia was all wonder and excitement again. Stiles was far more hesitant, his tone cautious.
"To beyond, of course.", and with that, Deaton reached out with both hand to touch their foreheads with light fingertips. All that they knew was gone in a blink of an eye.
"Where are we?", Lydia asked first, something Stiles was very grateful for considering his hyperactive mind was going nutballs crazy at the moment trying to process their new surroundings all at once.
'Where' was a forest that surrounded them, composed of trees tall enough to touch a Technicolor sky of vibrant blues and purples with dashes of gold, silver, and ice white brightness that was only called white by default for lack of a better depictive word. The starry night swirled overhead like a moving Van Gogh painting, achingly beautiful in its dance of light and color.
The tree around them looked old, gnarled and covered with soft moss that appeared velvety to the touch. Garlands of ivy was worn like a dramatic garments among the wood giants, draped over branches like coils of braided emerald silk. This forest felt old to Stiles and yet timeless all at the same time, too quiet to be real like nothing existed here except for the trees that moved all around them without the aid of wind or any moment of air. Stiles had never felt afraid of trees until now.
"Don't you know, Lydia? You have been here before though not under the best of circumstances.", Deaton said gently, his voice raspier than usual.
"Dude! What the hell?!", Stiles yelped, jumping back from his teacher who was now covered from head to toe in a cloak of white and brown feathers. It took a moment for Stiles to realize that the cloak was actually a giant pair wings folded around the man's shoulders and that plumes were attached to his skin. Though his face still looked normal enough, which Stiles was grateful for the lack of a beak, Deaton's eyes were opaque black and glittering like onyx. To her credit, Lydia was the one who recovered first.
"This is the astral plane.", Lydia murmured, looking around like a child lost in the woods, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist as if in pain. "It was different. The place I was…it was darker. This is nice. It feels safe here.".
"Places in the astral plane can reflect the mind of the visitor. It is a malleable place of soft reality. It can be shaped by a strong mind though never truly controlled.", Deaton turned slowly around, his wide spread arms encompassing the world around them in a fluttering fan of feathers. "This is a safe place to visit because I will it to be, because I ask it to be. I make it so through will and intent.".
"That's great. Awesome. Can you tell us why you look like you got mauled by a bird?", Stiles fidgeted. It was nice to know that they were not going to be attacked any time soon but he was dying to find out why Deaton was sporting the Chicken Little look.
"You are your animal.", Lydia answered for the good doctor, breaking out into a stunning smile as her nimble mind made quick work out of all the possibilities.
"Very good. The owl is me and I am the owl, as you will be your animal. All you need to do is find it.", Deaton surmised, gesturing expansively with his winged arm.
"How do you do that, Obi wan?", Stiles muttered, wishing he had skipped devouring the contents of the bestiary instead of the perceived boring parts. In all fairness, it wasn't like he knew they were actually going to visit an alternate plane of existence or that monsters were so damn interesting.
"Concentrate and it will come to you.", Deaton told them softly without really telling them anything at all. Stiles thought if Deaton had a mutant power, giving vague Yoda like advice would be it. "If you ask it nicely enough.".
"Could you be a little more fuzzy on the details? I almost understood all of that.", Stiles groaned, starting to gnaw on his hoodie's sleeve in frustration.
"Stiles…", Deaton sighed. "At least make the effort to call your animal to you.".
"Here sprit animal. Come to Stiles.", Stiles called out into the wooded nothing, making kissing noises that people seemed to think worked on cats and dogs alike.
"Stiles, shut up!", Lydia hissed, her eyes pressed firmly shut and her body rigid with focus.
Giving up so that at least one of them could concentrate, Stiles plopped down on whatever the hell the astral plane was made of, watching the air change colors around him and merge in on itself. It was a neat effect to watch. And that was why concentration was Stiles' biggest difficulty and why it came as no surprise to him that Lydia found her animal first or more accurately, it found her. Lydia had always been lucky in life that way.
Like a wisp of flame dashing through the cool woods, a fox made of all scarlet gold fur with a long sweeping tail tipped in a shock of white crept out of the dark on delicate paws toward Lydia who knelt down to greet it. The lithe animal sniffed her offered fingertips one by one, its bright gold eyes marked with tentative curiosity and full of strange intelligence as it came to a decision for the both of them.
Stiles fell back on his ass in surprise when the fox suddenly leapt high in the air and dove straight into Lydia's chest, disappearing a shower of scarlet sparks. As shocking as that was, the change that occurred next to his friend was even more puzzling. Fox ear's sprouted out of Lydia's head, the fur on them shades more red than her strawberry blonde hair while her green eyes took on more golden tones and a long tail graced her already perfect backside, materializing through her clothing with no ill effect to the expensive garments. Stiles became a little mesmerized by the new appendage.
"Oh Stiles…..It's…it's amazing.", Lydia gasped, holding up her hands that now ended in finely curved claws. Upon noticing her tail, she twirled in a better effect to see its curvature and flow of fur.
"Knew you could do it.", Stiles sighed pensively, his eyes still locked in on Lydia's new addition. He jumped when a palm connected to the side of his head.
"Focus, Stiles. You can do this.", Lydia snapped, glaring down at him which was made all the more menacing by her nearly bejeweled eyes, "Quit doubting yourself and stop staring at my ass.".
"Yes ma'am.", Stiles grinned, picking himself off of the ground, the strange earth of it feeling cool and moist like it had just rained. He turned his attention upward instead of toward the woods. Stiles didn't know why but the sky was calling to him. As lovely, as dark, and as deep the woods were, on an esoteric level they meant nothing to Stiles who had never felt grounded to the earth. He looked up to the night sky for answers, reminding himself to refrain from wishing on stars that did not really exist in a reality that could be potentially shattered with a careless thought.
Stiles didn't know how long he stared up at the mad night, getting more stressed out with every passing second of no animal appearance. The quiet was really starting to get to him and the celestial riot was beginning to give him a headache. Would it kill Deaton to will up some fireflies or a sky that didn't look like a post-impressionism acid trip?
"Nothing's happening.", Stiles complained to the treetops and open air.
"It will happen when you let it happen.", Deaton said softly from somewhere beside him as Stiles's eyes tracked a comet that looped around the nightscape like it was lost.
"Vague is so not working for me.", Stiles muttered, giving up the ghost of his task with a small sigh of defeat. "Did I mention that?". It didn't help Stiles's frame of mind watching Lydia dance around them gracefully, the girl testing out her new senses and agility on elegant tiptoe, her movements effortless and lissome.
"It will happen.", Deaton said the words like they were a promise and a quiet threat all at the same time in his usual opaque manner of twilight speaking. "For now though, we must return. It is not wise to linger here for long periods of time and you both have school in the morning."
"But…", Stiles started to argue.
"There will be other chances for you. Be patient.", Deaton soothed, his words twisting and distorting from mind to ear as the world around them shifted. Lydia and Stiles gasped on actual air that still smelled faintly of char as they reopened their physical eyes in the real world.
"Stiles still has a mess to clean up here.", Deaton reminded Stiles who cringed at the sparkly disaster that was the vet's office, before turning to Lydia and the fox at her side. Lydia laughed as she scooped up the fox, looking complete with the animal in her arms. The fox wiggled out and up onto her shoulders, looping itself around her neck like a living stole with its nose tucked under its bushy tail. "Ms. Martin has some soul bonding to do with her new friend.".
Stiles stifled a sigh that threatened to escape him. Yeah, that sounded like his life in a nutshell.
Thanks for reading. Comments are always welcome. Opinions about my sanity will not make me write any faster or better but do make my day more interesting. Cookies would be nice though. nom nom nom