Magic's Call by Dreaming of a Bright Sky

Spoilers for both seasons. Some swearing.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf

Chapter 8/25

They made it back to Beacon hills by mid afternoon, and pulled up to a tiny house not far from the woods. Stiles gave Derek a questioning look and the alpha just shrugged. "Rental."

The place was bare. There was no furniture, no dishes in the sink, nothing to mark it as somebody's home. A black garbage bag lay to one side, partially filled with empty take out cartons. As he got Scott to help him look around, the sole signs of habitation were in the bedroom. There was an old mattress on the floor, and a stack of neatly folded clothes in the corner.

As the only remotely comfortable spot to sit, Scott eased him down onto the mattress.

He spent some time staring at the emptiness of the room and then let himself flop back. He could smell faint traces of smoke and mildew. "Ok. No. That's just gross!"

After some serious effort, he got himself upright and started to shuffle shakily towards the bedroom door. He could see Derek stalking across the apartment towards him, a scowl firmly affixed on his face. Before the alpha could start yelling at him, he waved a hand at the mattress, "Please, please, please tell me that's not the mattress from your old house. It is, isn't it? That, my friend, is tragic. I refuse...hey! Put me down! I'm not a damsel in distress. Derek! Seriously, knock it off!"

He found himself about to be placed back on the mattress.

"Come on, man! Your mattress reeks. It has mold. It's a health hazard! You're a werewolf, so of course it doesn't hurt you. Fragile human here! That thing will poison me. Oh. Wait. Probably a bad time to remind you of being human. Or fragile. Which I'm not, by the way. Totally not fragile!"

Derek stomped outside, still carrying Stiles. He told Scott, "Bring in one of the stuffed chairs. Now!"

He walked back inside and waited. Scott couldn't help grinning at Stiles' predicament. He put the chair in the living room and started laughing when Stiles gave him the finger. He left and Derek firmly deposited the young man in the chair. He leaned forward and growled, ""Do. Not. Get. Up. You will stay right here. Got it?"

"Or what? Seriously, I know you won't hurt me. You're all growl and no bite."

Derek scrubbed a hand across his face. "Just stay put. I'll get rid of the mattress." He glared at Stiles. "I almost forgot how much of a pain in the ass you are."

His father and Scott had affectionately called him that so many times that his automatic response just sort of slipped out, "But you love me anyway!" The moment he said it, he froze and cursed his lack of a verbal filter.

Derek seemed frozen, and Stiles was sure that he was about to be kicked out. He couldn't have been more surprised when a vulnerable expression crossed the older man's face. Then Derek gave a quick nod and practically ran away. Stiles sat there in shock, and eventually muttered, "Huh."

He watched as his things started filling in the empty spaces. It turned out that Derek had no dishes. None. Not a single pot, plate, or utensil. As soon as the overprotective wolf let him, he was going to start cooking. A constant diet of take out had to be bad, even for a werewolf.

The old mattress got carried out and his bed got set up in it's place. The dresser got moved in, and he harassed Scott into taking him into the bedroom. There was something sad about that little pile of clothes sitting in the corner. Stiles couldn't stand it and made space in his dresser for them.

Eventually they were all unloaded. The camaro got wheeled off the dolly and parked in front of the house. Scott and Deaton left with the rental truck and the jeep, with a promise to drop Stiles' jeep off later. That left Stiles, still sitting in the chair, and Derek standing in the the doorway. "So..."

"What?" Derek shut the door and walked further in.

"Do you want to talk about this?"

"No."

"Ooo-kay. How about we go grocery shopping? We have no food."

"Make a list."

"Do you have internet?"

"No."

"You have to be kidding me. How do you check your emails? Do you check your email? Have I been sending you funny emails for the last two years, only for them to have gotten lost in the ether? Not cool."

Derek waved him phone at him. "I've read them."

"Do you have cable? Tell me you have cable!"

"No."

Stiles groaned. "How do you function without internet and cable? You need to get them." When Derek gave him his best blank face, Stiles pleaded, "I'll go through withdrawal. How will I do research? And WoW! My guild will think I abandoned them!"

"Fine! If I promise to get cable and internet, will you shut up?"

"Umm...no. Probably not." Stiles grinned unrepentantly.

Derek rolled his eyes, "I guess that was too much to hope for."

"Pretty much, yeah. You had to have known that."

Derek sat on the floor in front of Stiles. He released a tired sounding sigh. "You really do talk to much."

"Yeah."

When Stiles started carding his hair with his fingers, Derek relaxed a fraction. "I don't mind you talking. Just..."

"You're not ready to talk about it," and he makes a gesture that sort of encompasses them and everything else, "and that's okay. We don't have to right now."

"Thanks."

"Sure thing."

The two of them sat there in companionable silence. For once, Stiles didn't fill the spaces between them with chatter. He just sat there, running his hands through Derek's hair and felt at peace. It was kind of nice.

He lost track of how long they sat there like that, but at some point Derek quietly let him know, "Scott's here with your jeep."

A minute later, he heard the door of the jeep slam shut. Scott walked in. He had that look on his face that meant he'd done something that he knew Stiles would be upset about. "Stiles...um." He gave his best 'please don't be pissed at me' look. "Man, I'm sorry! Your dad saw me driving your jeep and pulled me over. I didn't know what to tell him and I sort of told him that you're here. He's on his way right now."

Even Stiles could hear the sound of a car pulling up outside. He really didn't want to deal with this right now. He let his head thump back against the chair. "Shit."

He heard the car door shut and his father's familiar steps. Then, his dad was silhouetted in the door. His voice was painfully neutral, "Stiles."