"What exactly did he say?" Derek asked, looking at the herbs in the bottom of the pestle as Stiles ground them up.
"Take these herbs; mix them with three drops of your suspected familiars blood and drink." He paused. "If I throw up all over the floor, you're not what I'm looking for." Stiles paused. "Although if you are, I might end up acting a little strangely for a few hours. He said it's normal." It was 9am – his dad had already left. Another day off spent at work.
"Strange? Stranger than normal?"
Derek was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs watching Stiles closely, he wasn't smiling. "Shut up, dude! I'll have you know, I am awesome."
"What do the herbs do?" Derek didn't like the smell of them, Stiles could tell from the way he wrinkled his nose.
"Apparently, my drinking blood isn't a good idea if you aren't my guide or something. This mixture is like…" He thought for a moment. "Like a safety net. So if I start throwing up all over the place, they'll make sure I don't really get hurt. Or something."
"I don't like this." Derek growled.
"Man up. If I'm going to be doing this, I've got to do it right. Harry got to go to Hogwarts, and all I've got is a sour-wolf and a couple of books on herbs, so give me a break."
Derek grunted. "What if I'm not… this guide thing?"
"Then I'm pulling this house apart until I find what it is." He looked at the mixture in the bottom of the marble bowl. "Okay, Pass the vessel."
He looked at the mug Derek handed over. "World's Best Dad? I'm doing complicated magic experiments and 'Worlds Best Dad' is what I have to work with? Are young kidding me?" Stiles grumbled, dumping the herbs into the bottom of the mug. He added the hot water and poured a liberal amount of honey in. "You know, I got this for my dad when I was 9? He still uses it." He stirred the mixture, which was laying the bottom of the mug like tar. "Does this look okay to you?"
"No."
"You inspire me with confidence, Dude." Stiles said, stirring faster. The water was an unattractive murky brown – he wasn't looking forward to drinking it at all – and the thought of Derek's blood in there made him want to gag. "Okay," He handed the wolf a pin. "Do it."
"What the hell is this?"
"It's a pin. Prick your finger and drip some in."
"Are you kidding me?" Derek snapped, walking over to the counter. "I'd heal before a single drop got out." He opened the drawer and pulled out a knife.
"Woah! Dude!" Stiles panicked. "No! No no no no! You can't- oh, gross!" It was too late, Derek had already pulled the sharp edge of the knife over his forearm. Blood running down his skin. He let a few drops fall into the mug and then turned to the sink. By the time Stiles had walked over to him, the water was running clear and all that remained of the cut was a pale pink line and some blood under his fingernails. "Don't do that again!" Stiles snapped, pulling the knife out of his hand. "Never again!"
"Drink it." Derek said. "Let's get this over with."
Stiles glared at him, before walking back to the table. The hot water was still brown, still gross. "This is disgusting." He said, picking up the mug and taking a smell. "Like, I think I'm going to barf even before I drink it." He paused. "You don't have parvo or anything, do you? I'm not about to get rabies or something?" Before Derek could reply, he put the cup to his lips and took a gulp. Before his mouth could register the grossness of what he was drinking, he took another – and another, until all that was left was the dregs in the bottom of the mug.
Putting the mug down with a shaky hand, he looked at Derek and shrugged. His mouth was burning, perhaps he should have let it cool more – but he felt okay. Nothing was happening. He shrugged at Derek.
"Maybe you did something wrong?"
"Talon said I'd know right away." His stomach gurgled unpleasantly. "Aside from needing to brush my teeth – I feel-" He was going to say 'fine', but the words never left his lips. The room started to spin, colours flashing behind his eyes like fireworks let off all at the same time. He could smell smoke, pine, vomit, and bleach – he gagged as his stomach heaved. He felt the world pitch, hitting the floor with his knees. Derek was holding on to him, but the cramp in his stomach was beyond anything he'd ever felt before. His skin was on fire, burning, searing.
"So hot." He gasped. "Get this off me." He tried to pull his hoodie off, but his arms were made of lead. "Get this off me!" He screamed, clawing at his clothes. Derek pulled, Stiles numbly aware through the pain that the wolf was trying to help, but every touch of his hands was like a burning brand – his skin hurt too much to stand it. "God!" He cried, as his super-heated skin touched the cold floor. His shirt was off, but it made no difference. His heart was beating so loudly that his world was franticly throbbing – vision blurred and distorted. He was aware of the hot tears running down his face, the sobbing that escaped his lips. He could see nothing but red, and gold.
Derek tried to touch him, but the heat of his hands burned Stiles deeper. He screamed out in pain, pushing the wolf away with his legs.
Stiles world ripped in two. He opened his eyes and saw Derek staring at him – face a mask of fear and panic. He could see Derek, and he could smell him – saw both Derek the man and Derek the wolf, sharing the same pace. Could see the colour of smell, the amber tones around him, green and blues – red and silvers, wrapped around items. Could see his father, standing at the sink, made up of coloured smoke. He saw the man take a drink, put the mug in the sink, and walk out the door – coloured vapour leaving a trail behind him.
The fire was still there, still burning him, but the pain was no longer blinding him. He pushed himself up from the floor, body moving in slow steps. Derek's breath was a mixture of mint and lilac, it hung in the air in a cloud of colour – Stiles wondered if this what drugs were like.
"Stiles?" Derek's voice was low, measured. Lilac rolling of his body like a powdered cloud. "Are you okay?" His breath mixed with the cloud of colour, moving it around his head like a paintbrush mixed with water. Stiles had never seen anything like it. The trash can in the corner was a like a rainbow, bright yellows and greens, pinks, turquoise and silver. He'd never seen anything more beautiful. "Stiles!" Derek said, hand half reaching out – as though he was too scared to touch him.
"So pretty." Stiles managed. His voice feeling like it was a million miles away. He didn't sound the same, like he was hearing his own words for the first time. Green smoke coming from his skin mixing with the lilac from Derek. "Colours."
"Stiles, you need to listen to me." Derek was saying, but his voice was a million years away, lost in a haze of purples and pink. Stiles stood up, managing to get to his feet without his world tipping sideways. "Stiles!"
But all Stiles could see was the backdoor, the colours of the morning and the smells of outside mixing together. The cool air touching his fevered skin was like summer rain, soothing him. He needed to get outside.
He stumbled towards the door, Derek talking to him, pleading with him, but his voice was so far away, and the colours of outside were too much. A shaking hand on the handle and he pulled, the cool air kissing his skin like a lover – he groaned in pleasure as the fire ebbed. He took one step, and then another, the forest at the back of the house stretching on for miles – he could see further into the trees than before – the green and gold swirling like water and smoke.
He walked down the few steps, seeing more – feeling more – than he ever did before. He was dimly aware of Derek talking to him, but it wasn't getting past the sudden desire…
Stiles broke into a run, dashing directly for the dense trees.
He was free. Really, utterly, beautifully free. His bare feet hit the soft carpet of the woodland as he pushed his body further into the tree filled landscape. He could feel Derek, just behind him, running low to the ground – the lilac colours mixing with new red and gold spirals that Stiles saw when he blinked. He saw the colour of the air change – saw Isaac in the trees, running parallel to him. Derek was yelling, the sound felt like a vibration in his lungs.
"Stay away from him!"
Stiles was free, he wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of this feeling. Colours around him mixed with smells, he knew Jackson was there by the sharp blue twinge of his overpriced cologne, Reevers bright orange mixed heavily with the yellow of Isaac. But he couldn't stop.
Erica howled. A sound of joy and abandon. Scott appeared from the left, purple haze and turquoise.
Stiles ran with wolves.
"Is he okay?" Someone asked.
"I don't know."
"What happened?" Was that Jackson?
"I don't know."
"Derek! You have to know something!" That was Isaac. Stiles tried to open his eyes, but they felt as though his eyelids were made of lead. He groaned.
"Stiles!" That was Scott, grabbing his arm. Stiles tried again to open his eyes, managing only to see the faces of the entire pack looking down at him before he closed them again. "God." He groaned. Everything was hurting. His toenails hurt, his hair hurt. His eyelashes felt like they were glued on. He forced his eyes open. The pack was still looking down at him. "Where am I?"
"In bed." A strange voice said – it took him a few seconds to realise it was Reever. He tried to push himself up, only for 6 pairs of hands to push him back down. His mouth was full of a metallic tang he couldn't place.
"What happened?"
"You wolfed out." Scott said, sitting on the bed. "Like… you totally wolfed out – like you'd been bitten."
"I didn't bite him." Derek said, his voice laced with an edge. Stiles wondered how many times he'd said that so far, it was starting to sound like a mantra.
"The colours." Stiles said, opening his eyes again. They were gone, his world reduced to its normal pale shell. There was no swirling smoke and water around him. His disappointment was bitter in his mouth.
"Yeah – Pretty awesome." Erica said. "You're like… green. And yummy."
"So yummy." Reever added, "Like… like forests and pears."
Isaac nodded, worryingly enough, so did Jackson and Boyd. Scott looked strained, Derek looked like he was going to punch someone.
"I saw colours."
"Yeah, you get used to it."
"They're gone."
"Oh." Isaac sounded disappointed.
"What do you remember?" Derek asked, and Stiles got the feeling he wasn't too happy about Scott sitting on the bed beside him. Isaac seemed pretty strained too.
"I was on fire." He said, touching his chest, expecting to feel burns. All he could feel was his cool skin. "And all these colours, and running." The last word came out on a sigh, like the pure bliss that it had been.
Everyone was smiling – well, everyone who wasn't Derek. "Yeah, it was great." Isaac said.
"Like, totally awesome." Jackson cut in. "The best run ever." He paused. "Although you kind of lost a bit of momentum after a while. You need to work on your cardio." He added, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Stiles was too sore to even try a smart retort.
"And then you passed out. And we carried you back." Scott paused. "You were heavier."
"I've been eating more."
"No, like, really, really heavy. It took Jackson and Derek just to lift you."
"Drink this." Derek said, pushing a mug into his hand. "It's the honey stuff."
"What honey stuff?"
"Just move, Scott." Derek snapped, pulling Scott off the bed by his arm and handing Stiles the mug. It wasn't the 'Worlds Best Dad' one, which he was glad about. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to look at that mug again without feeling the fire over his skin. He sat up against the pillows, ignoring the pain in his body – and the concerned looks of the teenagers crowding his personal space. He took a long drink, glad of the bitter sweet taste. He could almost feel it working, it was only lukewarm – Derek normally made it too hot to drink, he wondered how long he'd been holding it in his hands.
"What time is it?" He said, feeling better with every sip.
"After 5." Erica said.
"I could eat a horse." He said, and Jackson laughed.
"I'll order in." Derek said, "Shower and get changed. Everyone downstairs."
Scott stayed.
"Are you mad at me?"
"You've been acting like a total jerk for months." Stiles said, standing up and testing his legs. They felt like jelly, but were strengthening up.
"You made out with Derek!" Scott hissed, and just for a second, he wished Scott a million miles away. He knew that Derek could hear them – so could the rest of the pack.
"Get a grip, Dude." He said, padding to the bathroom. His feet were covered in dirt, jeans ripped at the bottom. A quick look in the mirror showed slight scratches on his skin where branches must have hit him. He put the now empty mug on the sink and turned on the shower, watching as the red pattern danced over his pale skin. Scott, who had never seen the reaction, stared at him from the doorway.
"What the hell is that?" He gasped.
"Oh," Stiles said, shrugging with a calmness he wasn't feeling. "Just some magic."
The pack were sitting in the living room talking over the TV. A mountain of Chinese food was piled on the table, plates on knees and soda bottles balanced carefully around. Stiles told them about the books, the spells – and the world that Talon had told him was just beyond their sleepy town.
"And they are like vampires, only they suck out your soul, and look like Fabio." He added. "And there are different types of were – like bears and tigers and all kinds of stuff."
"And your magic?" Jackson said, stuffing a spring roll in his mouth. "You?"
"Yeah."
"Like Harry Potter?"
"Ah… no."
"Those hot chicks in Charmed?"
"Maybe."
"Sweet. Pass the noodles."
Derek was the only one sitting on the sofa, although not in his usual place. He was sitting directly behind Stiles, who was leaning back against his legs and feeling happier than he had in weeks. He felt connected again, like everything was okay. And with Isaac on one side and Scott on the other, he felt like his world was back spinning the way it should.
"So what happened today?" Erica asked, holding out the tub of egg noodles to Jackson.
"Well, I needed to find my guide, and Talon said it could be Derek , so I made… a potion. Kinda." He took a drink of his coke. "And then everything went all freaky."
"Does that mean Derek is your guide then?" Scott asked, not looking at the older wolf.
"I guess. I mean, Talon said if he wasn't, the tea would make me spew black tar for a few hours. And if he was, then I'd take on his essence for a bit." Stiles shrugged. "I guess that's what happened."
"That would explain the Alpha eyes then." Boyd said, mouth full of dim sum.
"Huh?"
"You were all red eyes and gold smells." Reever said, leaning over Isaac who almost purred at the touch of her hand on his leg. "And then you passed out and changed to green."
"And pears." Erica added.
"Yeah." Reever sighed.
"What does that mean, like… for magic?" Jackson said, and Stiles wondered why he was so interested. "Can you do spells and freeze time and stuff?"
"Nah, at least... I don't really know – the books I've got don't have a lot of information on that. Mostly it's just cats and spiders."
"Gross."
Stiles had never been so comfortable. It was the first thing that popped into his mind when he opened his eyes. He was squeezed between two warm bodies, a few more seconds to recognise Scott and Isaac. His head was resting against Derek's leg, the Alphas hand was resting gently on his head, the pad of his thumb rubbing back and forth. He resisted the urge to snuggle further into the touch, knowing Derek would just pull away. Jackson was leaning against the other side of the sofa, his legs tangled up with Reever, who had her head resting on Isaacs chest. Erica and Boyd were curled around each other and Scott – only the difference in skintone made it possible to tell who was who. And all the while Derek's hand was tracing lazy shapes in his buzzcut.
He heard his dad's patrol car pull up, and expected Derek to move, or pull his hand away, but he didn't budge. Even when the door opened, none of the wolves woke up around him. His dad was a pretty okay, guy – he trusted Stiles – but he wasn't sure what he would think of the mass of sleeping teenagers and mound of takeaway food. Especially since Reever and Erica were there. Co-ed sleepovers probably weren't high on his list of things he wanted Stiles involved in. Although… if Derek wasn't going to move his hand, he might be against same sex sleepovers well.
He heard his dad walk past the living room door, and then step backwards. Stiles didn't dare move. He heard his sigh, and expected him to cough or maybe try to wake someone up. After a few moments, he heard his dad walk around the sofa and step carefully over Jackson and Reevers intertwined legs, leaning forward and picking up the empty cartons that we sitting on the table. Derek's hand stopped moving the instant his dad stepped too close to Jackson. Stiles wondered if it was a pack thing.
"Sheriff." He said, voice low.
"Hi son."
"I'll get that." He said, trying to get up, only to have Scott and Isaac whine in protest at the movement. Stiles kept his eyes half shut, not wanting Derek to know he was awake.
"Looks like you had quite the party." His dad smiled, "You stay put."
"Just soda." Derek said, "I made sure."
"I trust you." His dad said, a smile in his voice. Stiles wondered what exactly Derek had done to make his dad so damn trusting – because a few months ago he'd arrested the man for murder. "They look exhausted."
"They spent the day running about like kids. 'Working on their cardio' or something. Looked like chase to me."
"At least it keeps them out of trouble." He paused, Stiles saw him lift a tub of chicken noodles. "Do you mind?"
"Eat it, it won't keep."
"You can't eat that." Stiles piped up. "It's full of salt."
At the sound of his voice, the other teens opened their eyes, stretching and yawning.
"What time is it?" Scott asked, untangling his legs from Erica and Boyd.
"After 9, kid. Do your parents know you're here?"
The sudden reminder that it was much, much later than any of them realised kicked them into gear.
"My mom is going to kill me!" Scott groaned.
"I'm so grounded!" Reever said, standing up and swaying slightly.
"If anyone's parent gives them a hard time, tell them to call me, and I'll vouch that you were all watching TV like the good kids you think you are." His dad laughed.
"Thanks!"
"Thanks, Sir."
I've had fluffy pack feels all damn day. True story.
Still watching the first season of SPN – Dean is so far my fave, although the car is a close second.
If anyone else has seen the tweeted first page of the new Teen Wolf season opener... All I'm going to say is...
Do not fuck with my baby or I will cut you, writers. I will cut you with a sharp Argent blade.