John texted back and forth with Stiles. He didn't know what he was doing here, he just knew that he didn't want the conversation to end. He clung to his phone as if it was a lifeline, holding his breath for Stiles' next message.

It was getting late, he should go to bed soon. Rather sooner than later Stiles would wish him a good night and then John would be alone with his thoughts. His phone was his source of light and without Stiles, he would sit in the dark again. He would reach for his forgotten glass and soon after for the bottle. There would be a point where he could only hope to make it to bed before he passed out.

Do you want me to come over? Stiles asked instead of wishing him a good night. John blinked at the screen and tried to comprehend what he was reading here.

"Yes, please," John whispered into the emptiness around him but he couldn't bring himself to type the words. He was a functional adult, he didn't want to come across as clingy or needy.

I'm fine, he typed but couldn't bring himself to send it either. For a long minute, he just stared at his phone and didn't know what to do. It had gone dark by now but suddenly it lit up with a new message from Stiles.

I'm coming over

John wanted to protest, he wasn't that desperate but Stiles' messages came in rapidly now.

Just give me a sec

I need to get into the lake

Derek can bring me over

John read the messages with watery eyes. Something loosened in his chest and he took a deep breath. It was stupid and embarrassing but he didn't care. Without Stiles he would crash hard tonight, he knew that.

A minute later he heard noises coming from the kitchen and then Stiles was standing in the door. He was naked except for his dripping wet underwear which he had to hold on to with one hand to prevent them from just slipping off his hips.

"I'll just dry off and put on some clothes and then I'll be with you," Stiles said, already on his way to the stairs. He had to hitch up his underwear a few times and John still saw more of his bare ass than he ever wanted to see.

"He's worried about you," Derek suddenly spoke up.

"Geez!" John startled and almost knocked over his glass. He hadn't noticed the Nöck. When Stiles had said that Derek would bring him over, he hadn't expected him to stay.

Derek just gave him an unimpressed look.

"Stiles said that Sam Winchester wants to free him from me." Derek shifted from one foot to the other before made up his mind and sat down in his usual spot on the couch. It was absurd that he'd been here often enough to have a usual spot but that was just John's life now.

"I think he just desperately wants to save somebody." John leaned back in his chair. With his fingers, he ran absently over the cardigan on his knee. Following the pattern with his fingertips had something calming.

"Mark overheard us and now he wants the same. He still wants to make it up to Stiles." For a second John closed his eyes and focused just on the pattern under his fingers. Sam had left and shortly after Mark hadn't been at his desk either. It would be stupid for a werewolf to work with a hunter but it didn't feel like a coincidence. Especially since Mark had announced that he too wanted to free Stiles shortly after.

"It's possible that they gang up for this," John had to admit. He didn't like the idea and he hoped that he was wrong. Mark could bring the pack into focus way too easily with something like this.

"It doesn't matter," Derek said. "Stiles is mine. Nothing is going to change that."

The way he said it sent shivers down John's spine. It was easy to forget but Derek owned Stiles.

"What are you going to do if they try?" John dared to ask.

"Nothing," Derek answered. "There is nothing they can do. It's just like with those rituals they tried to get my attention. It doesn't work."

With that Derek admitted once again that he did know what was going on around the lake, he just didn't care. However, John's mind was on something else.

"What if they try to keep you away from him?" John asked. At the lake, Derek had been willing to go through Mark to get to Stiles and he had gone through John that very first time he'd come to get Stiles.

He has to come with me, those words still echoed in John's mind.

"They can't keep me away from him," Derek said simply.

Most likely he was right. Even Agnes with her fangs and claws hadn't been able to even scratch him. Derek looked solid but when he'd pinned her down he'd revealed that he was basically water. The trail of water Derek left everywhere he went should have given John the hint earlier.

Water always found a way. If Derek wanted to get to Stiles he would. John doubted that anything could stand in Derek's way for long.

"Are you talking about me?" Stiles came pounding down the stairs. His hair was still damp, he'd dried it in a haste, but he was wearing clothes which was a plus.

John had to tell him about Sam and Mark again, Stiles wanted to know more than what he'd gotten from John's short messages. He wanted to know every little detail, every word the two had said.

He too found it suspicious that Mark had left shortly after Sam and that they both suddenly wanted the same thing but there wasn't much they could do about it.

"Why is suddenly everybody interested in me?" Stiles huffed and slumped back in his seat.

"I don't know what Mark wrote in that letter," John started, his fingers itching for his drink but for now he held on to the cardigan. "But I think he expected you to act like a werewolf. You know, seeking comfort in the pack, letting the pack take care of you. That you want to be left alone is an alien thought to him."

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip and nodded along.

"For a werewolf being alone means omega," he said. "Makes sense. So what's his plan? Kidnap me and adopt me into the pack?"

"No clue." John reached for his glass and took a tiny sip. "Same with Sam, not sure what his deal is. I get the impression that he wants to save you just to save somebody."

Under Stiles' disapproving look he set the glass back on the table.

"Don't know about his brother, though." Avoiding Stiles' gaze he turned to Derek. "Aside from Stiles running into them at the library, the last thing I heard about Dean is that you had a beer with him."

This was his chance to ask about that but Derek didn't want to go into detail. Aside from the obvious questions about Derek's nature and how likely more accidents were, their conversation had been private and Derek handled it as such. More proof that Derek was not a mindless monster but a sentient being who was mindful of his actions.

However, according to Derek Dean was willing to let things be and move on to the next case.

"Interesting that the one who's eager to shoot something is the one willing to drop it while the compassionate one can't let go," John said.

"Stiles is mine," Derek stated once again and with that, the conversation seemed to be over for him. He stood, shared a glance with Stiles, and then he left.

John waited until he was sure that Derek was gone before he spoke.

"Are you okay with that?" He asked.

"With a hunter and a werewolf teaming up to free me?" Stiles made the last words sound ridiculous which kind of answered John's question but he needed to hear Stiles say it.

"That you're Derek's," John clarified. "He owns you."

Damn, he needed a drink for this. He knocked back what was left in his glass and gave himself a generous refill.

"I told you, I'm fine." Stiles huffed but didn't comment on the drink.

"Because you don't have another choice?" John asked gently. He needed to know. He'd been offended by Sam and later Mark as well that they just assumed what was best for Stiles but he realized that he'd never really asked either.

Stiles gave him a look as if he was pondering to just brush it off but then his eyes wandered over the glass in his hand, to the cardigan on his knee. They were still sitting mostly in the dark, nobody had bothered with switching on the lights. John had muted the TV but the bluish light was their only source of light. It cast hard shadows under the lines of Stiles' face. He kind of looked a bit like Derek in that light. Kind of drowned, kind of dead.

"It wasn't my choice to get drowned in the lake," Stiles said after a long moment. "It wasn't my choice that Derek kept me instead of just killing me." He reached over and took the glass from John's fingers. John thought that he would set it aside but instead, Stiles downed half of it.

He grimaced while the alcohol burned its way down to his stomach.

"I never had a choice," Stiles said quietly, swirling the remaining liquid in the glass. "I don't know how my life would have turned out if I hadn't been in that alley that day, if those werewolves had picked another victim."

It sounded like something he'd thought about a lot. At least in the first few years, John guessed, when things had still been fresh.

"At first I was scared of Derek." Stiles let out a hollow laugh. "I woke up at the bottom of the lake, kicking and screaming, and there was this thing surrounding me." Stiles finished the drink but kept the glass to fiddle with. "Down there, keeping a form is an effort. Derek is a presence in the water, he's everywhere and nowhere. His presence surrounding me is comforting and I can just let go and get lost in him. It's peaceful." He'd kept his eyes on the glass in his hand but now he glanced up at John. "But in the beginning, it was frightening. I tried to fight him but you can't fight water. I think he was just as terrified as I was. Before me he never kept somebody and he never interacted much with people."

"Now he sees people at a bar," John threw in to lighten the mood. Stiles had come here to help him to get through the night and now it was the other way around.

"Still would have loved to see that." Stiles cracked a smile but it vanished quickly. "I tried to run away, even stole a horse once but no chance. He came for me every single time. He didn't want to, it was written all over his face how sorry he was but he didn't have a choice either. It was rough in the beginning." Stiles nodded to himself, lost in memories. "Anyway, once we got to know each other, things got better. He's my best friend and even if I had the choice I would stay with him. So to answer your question, I'm fine with how things are. I belong to Derek and that's okay. I'm happy."

John studied him but in the flickering light of the TV, his expression was hard to read.

"I've been happy before I met you." Stiles met his gaze. "But since I've met you, I feel more alive than in quite a while." He gave John a lopsided smile.

John didn't know what to do with that information. His mouth felt too dry and something in his chest twisted, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to wash down that feeling with a drink but Stiles still had his glass and didn't show any intention to give it back.

"Anyway, I came here to cheer you up and not to drag you down even more." Stiles shook off the dark mood. "Let's watch some nonsense on TV. I'm going to rant the fuck out of it and you can roll your eyes at me. And what's wrong with your lights anyway?"