Drinking on an empty stomach was probably a bad idea so John left it at one drink before he went upstairs for a shower and to get out of his uniform. The day had been way too long and he was tempted to just crawl into bed but for one, Stiles was here and if he left him unsupervised for too long he might go back to what he'd been doing when John had come home. And second, aside from a late dinner and an awful sandwich from a hospital vending machine John hadn't eaten all day.

He did feel a bit light-headed but he managed to finish his shower, get dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, and come back downstairs without any accidents. He did have to use the banister on the way down, though.

"You look like shit." Stiles had a wary eye on him while John tried to compose himself on his way over to where Stiles was standing in the kitchen door.

"Long day," John said while he tried to remember what kind of food he had at hand. He needed something quick and filling, something greasy he could wash down with half a bottle of Jack. His eyes fell on Stiles. Maybe a beer would do for now, he didn't want to get drunk in front of Stiles. Maybe later.

He was about to ask how long Stiles had, the thought of falling asleep on the couch with Stiles around was comforting, maybe he wouldn't have to drink himself into oblivion that way, but Stiles interrupted him before he figured out a way to ask without sounding needy.

"Pizza should be here any minute," Stiles said. He waited until John was sitting at the kitchen table before he dared to turn around to get glasses out of the cupboard behind him.

"I'm not going to pass out," John muttered but didn't even try to hide how heavily he was bracing himself on his elbows.

"Heard about the accident." Stiles put the glasses on the table and filled them with water.

It took John's mushy brain way too long to get what Stiles was thinking.

"Wasn't even at the scene." John gulped down the water and held out his glass for a refill. He couldn't even remember if he had anything to drink but coffee the whole day. "Mark and I set up a detour and directed the traffic. Didn't get to the scene until hours later to help with the clean-up."

They were interrupted by the pizza arriving and John wolfed down his first slice like a starving man. Which wasn't that far off. He slowed down at the third slice, though. By then he felt better and his head was clear enough to tell Stiles about his day in coherent sentences.

"Did you know that werewolves can take the pain of a person?"

"They can what?" Stiles choked on the too huge bite he'd stuffed into his mouth. "Why didn't Mark mention that in his 101 on werewolves?" Stiles coughed a few times and had to wash down the pizza with half a glass of water but then his focus was on John. "I want details."

John had only caught a glimpse of the black lines crawling up Mark's forearm but he did his best to describe what he'd seen. Later, on their way back to the station, John had asked about that but Mark had just shrugged and said that it helped with the pain. At that point, they both had been on their feet for hours and they had known that they still had long hours ahead so John had just filed the information away.

But not Stiles. He wanted to know every little bit John could remember and in the end, John had to save his pizza when Stiles got out the notes and books John had on werewolves.

John was too tired for research and most of what Stiles was saying just washed over him but he kind of enjoyed the stream of words. It was comforting. So he leaned back in his chair, pizza box in his lap, and slowly eating the last slice of his pizza while Stiles dug into this new aspect of werewolves.

Eventually, they moved over to the living room, Claudia's chair was more comfortable than the one in the kitchen.

"What do you know about the tree?" John had a drink on the table right next to him but for now, he kept his hands busy with tracing the pattern of Claudia's cardigan in his lap.

"What tree?" Stiles was still trying to figure out the logistics of a bottle of coke, a bag of chips, and a fistful of John's notes he was not ready to let go of just yet. He did manage to sit down without dropping anything which he celebrated with a proud grin. John just rolled his eyes at his antics and waited until he had Stiles' attention before he repeated his question.

"The tree everybody's talking about."

"The Nemeton?"

Right, that was its name. Since when did trees have names? John washed a hand down his face, he probably should go to bed instead of opening this can of worms but now he wanted to know.

"Met the Winchesters at the hospital."

"Do I want to know what they were doing there?" Stiles groaned but he dropped the notes on werewolves on the couch next to him, ready to jump onto the new topic.

"They did some research, apparently Beacon Hills is a supernatural hot-spot." John was still not over the fact that there was a thing like average supernatural activity. "The tree is something like a beacon for the supernatural."

"They're right." Stiles ripped open the bag of chips and stuffed a fistful in his mouth.

"You just had pizza," John reminded him.

"I'm a growing boy."

"You stopped growing a century ago."

"Sue me, I'm hungry." Just to make his point Stiles stuffed more chips into his mouth. He sat there with puffed-out chipmunk cheeks for about three seconds before he started to cough out chips crumbs.

John was torn between being grossed out and laughing, laughing won in the end, but he did make a mental note to make sure that Stiles ate more regularly. Maybe he could get him stocked up with snacks and some of the just-add-water kind of meals. It wouldn't be the healthiest diet but who was John to judge? Besides, out of the two of them, John was the one who could die of clogged arteries. If the alcohol didn't kill him before that. John did not look at the glass conveniently sitting to his right.

"What has the Nemeton to do with the Winchesters showing up at the hospital?" Stiles asked once he was able to form words again.

"They wanted to make sure that it really was an accident and not something else." Once he was sure that Stiles was not choking any longer, John leaned back in his chair, hand loosely on the soft cardigan in his lap.

"What do you know about the tree?" John asked. "Everybody is talking about it as if it's a big deal. What's so special about a tree?"

Stiles gave him a long look.

"It's old," he started. "The Nemeton was old when I came here. I don't know when exactly Derek came here but the tree was already ancient back then. I think it drew him in, that's why he picked this lake and not any lake. It drew in the Hale pack as well. I doubt they knew about it, not back then, it just felt right to them to settle here." Stiles paused, eyes glossed over in memory.

"Agnes said something like that," John remembered. "She thought that Derek got drawn in recently. The Winchesters called it a beacon."

"I'm more human than anything else and even I can feel its pull," Stiles admitted quietly. "I think on a subconscious level everybody around here feels it."

"I never felt anything." John shook his head. Giving in to temptation he reached for his glass.

"It's like white noise." Stiles followed his movement with his eyes but didn't comment on it when John took a sip. "It's constantly there, in the background, so your brain filters it out."

It did make sense. John had heard stranger things over the last few weeks.

"What does it do?" He asked between two sips but then he set the glass aside. Looked like he wasn't going to get drunk after all today.

"Nothing." Stiles shrugged but visibly relaxed when John put the glass on the table without finishing his drink. "It's just there. It's dormant most of the time."

"Is it evil?" The druid came to mind.

"Neutral," Stiles corrected. "But when you get close to it you can feel its power. If you can tap into that, it amplifies what's already in you. Good or bad, it enhances what you bring with you."

"That's how you get a druid on a rampage." John nodded in understanding.

"That's how you get a druid on a rampage," Stiles agreed. "But most of the time it's harmless. Some say they saw things or had weird dreams when they fell asleep under the tree. I think it was in the fifties when this trend came up. Girls went out there under the full moon in hope to dream of their future husband."

John leaned back in his chair and just listened to Stiles talking about the things he'd witnessed over the years. John had to check out the tree himself at some point because a lot of what Stiles was talking about just sounded like superstition but it was nice to just listen to his voice.

John let the cadence of Stiles' stream of words wash of him and it didn't take long for him to drift off to sleep.

He woke up around four in the morning. At first, he wasn't even sure where he was but then he recognized his living room.

Right, he'd fallen asleep in Claudia's chair. Again.

Stiles was gone.

"Did I sleep through Derek picking him up?" John wondered and hoisted himself up into a more upright position.

Turned out that John hadn't just slept through Derek's visit. Stiles had draped a blanket over him, had put the glass away, and had cleaned up before he'd left. There wasn't even a wet trail left from Derek walking around but there was the mop by the sink, evidence that the Nöck had been here.

"Damn, I must have been really out of it." John just shook his head but he was still too tired to worry about sleeping through people moving around him like that. It was early enough to get a few more hours of sleep so John just switched off the lights and went to bed.

He still felt tired when his alarm went off but at least it was Friday. He just had to get through this day and then he had the weekend off.

The whole station was in the same state of mind, yesterday had been one hell of a day for all of them. The coffee pot was constantly empty and John wasn't the only one stifling a yawn every few minutes. Being stuck with paperwork and staring at the screen for hours didn't help either. But there was still the aftermath of the accident yesterday which meant lots of paperwork.

At least after his lunch break, Sheriff Thompson sent him and Mark out to get the statements of the people they hadn't been able to talk to yesterday. Fresh air and moving around did help.

"Can't wait for this shift to be over," Mark said when they left the second hospital room.

"Amen to that," John agreed. Most of the people had left the hospital by now, they would have to visit them at home but the two who had still been in surgery yesterday were stable now and one of them was even up to talking to them. Plus, Melissa was a big help with getting the information they needed.

"Any plans for the weekend?" Mark asked.

"Sleep," John answered and stifled another yawn. "But Stiles is pestering me with that driving lesson I promised him so we might do that instead." Over the day Stiles had sent him three messages, not so subtly reminding him of that promise.

"What about you?" John asked but at the mention of Stiles, Mark became defensive and just muttered that he didn't have any plans. Not that it was any of John's business but he got the feeling that Mark didn't want him to know. So his plans were either pack-related or still about that idea of freeing Stiles.

They were saved by Melissa coming back with the file they had asked for.