Disclaimer: Don't own Teen Wolf


A Spark and an anchor...

SPARK.

The word seemed to glow like a neon sign whenever he closed his eyes. Stiles. Clumsy, flailing, spastic, flannel wearing Stiles, is a Spark.

What the hell even is a Spark?! He keeps thinking.

That's what he intends to find out, other people however seem to think he doesn't need to be keen to the conversation.

So here he sits, in a metal stool in the corner of the examination room at Deaton's' vet clinic while the vet, the best friend, the goddess, and angry brows all argue about what Stiles should be doing about the Spark thing. Well, angry brows doesn't actually say much, he huffs and rolls his eyes a lot but doesn't get too involved with the actual conversation. And he glances to Stiles every now and then. Which, weird. They argue, talking as if Stiles isn't sitting just a few feet away.

"It is necessary for stiles to accept this gift he's been given. To learn about its history and the strength of the power that resides within him." Deaton calmly explains.

"But it's dangerous! You said it was. You said he could basically draw in the power and lose himself to it. How is exploring it a good idea?" There's a plea in Scotts voice, worry for Stiles clear in his tone.

"But he can't ignore it Scott." Lydia protests. "All that energy and power has to go somewhere. What if he's just a ticking time bomb? He needs to learn about this, the good and the bad."

"Does Stiles get a say here?" Stiles waves his hand in attempt to draw attention to himself. "Did you guys go deaf? Blind? Get a sudden case of temporary amnesia?"

The only pair of eyes that meet his at the green-hazel set hiding beneath a pair of very vocal eyebrows. Eyebrows that said he was getting just as annoyed with the way this conversation was playing out as Stiles, though Stiles couldn't imagine why he would be annoyed with the back and forth he was being excluded from.

"Ignoring this could end very badly, much like Lydia said. Perhaps not quite as dramatically as she had put it but bad all the same. It would be irresponsible for him to stay naive about his. He at the very least needs to find his anchor."

"Anchor?" Stiles asks. "I have an anchor?"

"His anchor will be vital in his controlling of the power that rests within him." Deaton continues, his back to Stiles.

"Hey. Hello! Maybe address the time-bomb sitting in the room?!"

"It shouldn't be too difficult to find the anchor. A shapeshifter will have likely been drawn to him to begin with, they would have been present in some capacity prior to the Spark coming alive. The lighting of the Spark would have called out to its anchor, creating the bond between the two of them."

"Bond?" Scott asks.

"Yes, it's very likely Stiles already has a relationship with his anchor." Deaton states

"You guys do know I'm sitting right here."

"The spark has been dormant, but always a part of him. The shapeshifter likely keyed in on that subconsciously and has stayed close since, not even knowing why they felt compelled to do so. The draw to stay near and protect him will only be stronger now, impossible to ignore."

"Well, there are a lot of us around; Stiles' whole life is practically full of shapeshifters." Scott points out.

"What about you Scott? You and Stiles have been friends since you were little right?" Lydia looks to Deaton for his thoughts.

He shakes his head. "It is unlikely that Scott is Stiles' anchor as he was not born a werewolf, he was bitten."

"Guys. Really? Did I fucking become invisible? You're talking about me." Stiles finally stand from his seat, a buzzing in the air surrounding him. "You literally stick me in the corner and argue about something that should be on me to decide." The light over the examination table flicker. "You act like I'm not even here or like I can't make the right call about this!"

"Stiles, I need you to calm down. We meant nothing by it. Of course this is you decision to make." Deaton hold his hands up to Stiles, keeping his voice calm as if he were dealing with a wounded animal. "This is just all very big, and it needs to be handled in a certain manner."

"And that manner includes shutting me out? When I'm right here!" There's a snap and a pop sound that fills the room as glass from behind Stiles rains down to the floor. He throws his hands over his head as a pair of hands yanks him from the falling shards, pushing him toward the doorway.

"That's enough!" Derek snarls, his growl leaving no room for further discussion. He stands protectively in front of Stiles, his eyes shifting from one face to the next. "This," He waves his hand at the trio in front of him. "Isn't helping."

"Derek-" Scott start but he is cut off by Derek's shaking head.

"No. Stiles is right, this is his call." He turns around, placing a hand on Stiles' bicep. "Come on Stiles."

"Derek, you can't just force him to go with you." Lydia narrows her eyes at the alpha.

"Oh," Stiles starts, looking around Derek. "So you guys, who are supposed to be my best friends, can talk like I'm not sitting six feet away and make decisions about my life but when Derek, of all people, want to take me away from a situation that is obviously stressing me out you have a problem? Why? Cause Derek bad, Scott and Lydia good? Bullshit!"

"Stiles," Derek says calmly, his hand squeezing his shoulder gently. "Try to relax, okay." Stiles closes his eyes, nodding as he takes a deep breath. The buzzing in the air softens to a quiet hum as Derek runs his hand up and down Stiles' upper arm. "You're okay." He says quietly.

"Can we go?" Stiles asks softly, eyes still closed.

Derek nods. "Yeah, come on."

Stiles turns toward the doorway with Derek's guiding hand pressed between his shoulder blades.

"Derek. We haven't finished our discussion yet."

Derek whips his head around, his eyes flashing red. "Yes Deaton, we have." He growled, turning back to Stiles and ushering him forward. "Let's go Stiles." He says with a much softer edge to his voice.

They leave Deaton, Lydia, and Scott in the back room of the clinic as Derek and Stiles walk out to the parking lot. They both walk over to the black Camaro at the end of the parking lot, causing Derek to throw Stiles a curious look as he passed his blue Jeep.

"Dude, my hands are still shaking from whatever the hell I did in there. I'm afraid I'll run off the road." Derek only nods, accepting Stiles's explanation without question, and reaches out to open the passenger door for him without him having to actually request a ride. Stiles smiles sheepishly. "Thanks."

Derek eases the door closed once Stiles in settled inside and round the front of the car to get behind the wheel. He sticks the key in the ignition and brings the car to life. The head light turn on and shine on Scott standing outside the clinic, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Do you want to talk to him?" Derek asked, turning to look at Stiles.

He meets Derek's gaze and shakes his head. "Not right now, not tonight. Let's just go."

"Okay." Derek pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road. They drive in silence for a few minutes, the soft hum that had surrounded Stiles in the clinic now completely gone. "Did you want to stop and get something to eat?"

"No, I'll be fine."

"You should probably eat something. I know we don't know much about this whole Spark thing but I'm going to go out on a limb and say it feeds off your own energy. You look wrecked and it's not even 6 yet."

"I do have school and stuff you know. And I haven't exactly been sleeping great. So if I look wrecked it's because of that not this Spark crap."

"What do you mean you're not sleeping?" Derek glances at Stiles with a frown. Stiles merely shrugs as a way of response as he averts his eyes out the side window. "Stiles?" Derek presses when nothing else is said. "Stiles." He says more firmly.

"It's nothing." Stiles says, waving his hand dismissively.

"Well that's a lie."

"Goddamn wolf ear." Stiles mumbles with a sigh. "Fine. I'm getting like two hours of sleep if I'm lucky; I always wake up in a panic. Sometimes I don't know where I am, sometimes I'm calling out for my mom or dad…or to Allison." Stiles pauses for a moment, staring at his hand in his lap. "It's always a nightmare, but not really you know? Cause how can you call it a nightmare when its something that actually happened."

"It's every night?"

Stiles nods.

Derek pulls off the road, unexpectedly, into the parking lot of a small diner.

What the- Derek, what are you doing?"

"Getting you something to eat that isn't just peanut butter and jelly. Come on."

Stiles gapes at Derek, unmoving. "Really, I'm fine. I'm not even hungry."

Derek meets Stiles' eyes, his gaze dropping to the boy's stomach as it rumbles. "No?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. "Look, you're not sleeping, you're eating like shit. This is how you get sick."

"So, you're going to buy me a burger so I don't get sick?"

"No. I'm going to but you a grilled chicken salad, so you don't get sick. Enough with the grease. Now come, let's go."

Stiles glared at Derek but opened his door and climbed out of the car. "Since you obviously won't let this go, fine. But I a least want curly fires, you completely."

Derek rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car. "Fine." He walks around the car, Stiles falling in step next to him with a triumphant smile plastered on hi face. "But you get water or nothing."

"Seriously?!"

Derek shrugs, opening the door and letting Stiles go in ahead of him. "What's wrong with water?"

"Nothing." Stiles enters the diner with Derek right behind him. They're lead to a booth in the back corner of the diner, sliding into the table across from each other. "I'm fine with water."

"Then what's with the dramatic response?"

"No one's ever been so careful with my eating habits. Well, not since my mom…I'm usually on my dad's ass about his diet."

Derek nodded. They each picked up their menus, looking them over in a comfortable silence for a few moments be for Derek spoke. "Laura was practically a hawk after the fire, worse then my mom ever was." He said with a small fond smile as he looked at his menu.

Stiles glanced up, surprised to hear Derek speaking about his family. "Yeah?" Was all he could manage to reply with, though he wanted to say more. He wanted Derek to feel like he could open up to someone, anyone, about his family. He always thought that it must have always been so hard to carry around the weight and grief of what happened all these year and never talk about it to anyone. He wanted to ask questions, get him talking more but he was afraid to push him and make him shut down.

"Mmhm." Derek hummed. "I wasn't a big junk food kid but like anyone I had a few weaknesses. There was this small shop in town, long gone now, that had the best empanadas. I could eat them all day long and would if given the chance. But Laura practically outlawed them. If she couldn't see the ingredients it was made with we didn't eat it."

Derek's smile grew, Stiles found he couldn't help but match it. "That's crazy, empanadas aren't even that bad."

Derek chuckled. "Yeah, well they aren't that good either. Nothing is healthy when you deep fry it."

"True. But they're awesome. I got myself on a Spanish food kick for a bit. I couldn't find any good empanadas anywhere, which was a total buzz kill, so I checked online for some recipes and just made them myself. They were kind of awesome; either that or I was just hungry. I was probably just hungry, speaking of which- Hey there, great timing!" Stiles grinned up at the waiter who'd arrived at their table. "Could I get a grilled chicken salad and a side of curly fries?" The waiter nodded then turned to Derek.

"I'll have an egg omelet with spinach, and two waters please. Thank you." With a smile, Derek handed his and Stiles' menus over.

"Hey Derek?"

"Yeah?" Derek could sense Stiles' anxiety building.

"I…I don't think I can go home tonight."

"No?"

Stiles shakes his head, tipping his napkin into little bits. "Scott or Lydia will just show up, if they haven't already and I just…I'm not ready to talk to them. Clearly, they aren't really ready to talk to me. That was proven earlier."

"They're just worried, honestly we all are."

Stiles gives Derek a dubious look. "Even you?" He asks before he can stop himself.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know. I guess kind of, a little bit maybe. I mean I know I'm not your favorite person, so I'd get it."

"So, because you think I don't like you that mean I'd never be worried about you?" Stiles looked down at his hand, still picking at the napkin, shrugging again. "You're sort of an idiot for someone so smart, you know that?"

"What?" Stiles asks, mouth hanging open.

"You talk too much sometimes, and you have a way of getting under my skin even Cora could never manage, but Stiles I like you just fine."

"You do?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Yes."

"And you're worried about me? With this whole Spark thing?"

Derek shook his head. "No, at least not in the way Scott or Lydia are. You're smart, I'm sure you'll figure it out. I'm more worried about you as a whole."

Stiles tilted hi head, looking at Derek in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I…well I didn't want to ask, I didn't want to push you; you were dealing with a lot. Honestly, you talk so much about everything and anything I figured it would come up sooner or later. You talk about everything, except the things that matter; it's sort of frustrating."

"Kind of like waiting for you to get to the point?" Stiles quips.

Derek smirked, leaning forward with his elbows resting on the table. "Funny. Everyone was so worried about Scott or Lydia or Chris after everything happened a few months ago." Stiles nodded, looking away again. He didn't need Derek to elaborate to know what he was referring to. "Which I understood, but you dealt with a hell of a lot more. I tried to keep an eye on you, make sure you were doing okay. You pulled back a lot, I don't know if anyone really noticed because physically you were there, but your mind clearly wasn't."

"You noticed that?"

"I can't seem to not notice things about you, it's sort of strange actually."

The waiter comes then, pausing their conversation as their meals are laid down in front of them. The eat in a companionable silence until Stiles breaks once he almost finished eating, picking at his curly fries as he speaks.

"I'm okay by the way."

Derek raised his eyes to look at Stiles, who's staring intently at his plate of fries. "Wolf hearing." He says, as if to remind Stiles he can't lie to him.

Stiles smirks. "Right. Fine, so I'm not totally okay. But it's fine, I'm dealing."

"You're having nightmares and getting maybe 2 hours of sleep."

"Is that not good?" He says with a laugh. Derek sits his for down, narrowing his eyes at him. "Right, no. Of course its not. Look I just don't want anyone to be worrying about my mental state after being possessed by an evil chaos demon spirit thing. I did- it did a lot of terrible things. Things that shouldn't be forgotten. Or forgiven."

"None of what happened is on you, Stiles."

"I was weak, Derek. An easy target."

"Stiles, you did an incredible thing to save your dad; a dangerous thing. And it left a darkness in you that allowed that thing to worm its way into your mind. You weren't an easy target and you weren't weak. The nogitsune attached itself to that darkness and slowly feed on it until it was able to over power you, and you're incredible stubborn so I don't think you make it easy on the thing. You weren't an easy target and you weren't weak. Don't ever think you're weak."

Stiles stared wide eyed at Derek. "I'm just some human though, compared to you I am week."

Derek reached across the table, a serious look on his face, and took Stiles' hand without a second thought as if it were the most normal thing he would do. "You are a lot of things Stiles, but weak is definitely not one of them. Don't sell yourself short." He smiles softly at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "If you're not ready to go home, you can crash at the loft. I'll bring you to get the Jeep tomorrow." Stiles nodded, unable to find his voice. He was doing a lot of that tonight. "Ready to go?" Again, the only answer to come was a nod. "Alright." Derek said, letting go of Stiles' hand with a soft smile. "Let's go."


AN: If you're following The Bonded, don't be mad that I'm working on another story. I will update soon, I swear. I just got this idea in my head and it's a short one.