Peter opens bleary eyes, sleepily surveying the room he woke up in...Stiles room. The few seconds in which he took to figure out where he was were enough to wake his companion, who drowsily stretched his sore limbs.
"Stiles." Peters unused gravelly voice seemed to wake Stiles up completely, and the boy bolted upright, detangling the twisted sheets the two were in. He looked alarmed, a blush working its way onto his cheeks.
Peter smirked, twitching his half-closed eyes to the frantic boy who flails out of the small bed and bangs into the doorframe cursing wildly. As the Sheriff's mild protest drifts down the hallway, Stiles trips over his desk, to the amusement of Peter, before flopping in a chair to stare dolefully at the floor.
Stretching slowly, Peter feels the tens eyes on him. As he looks back at him, Stiles smiles, a quiet, happy smile. He's content.
"Morning," Peter says quietly.
"...Good Morning, Peter." Stiles cracks a grin, crawling back into the warm bed, ignoring Peters disgruntled face. "We can do this. We're pack." Stiles looks up at the Were, seeking his approval. Peter nods happily. "Yeah," Stiles reassures himself. They're pack. It's a pack thing! Nothing more.
It takes another hour and a half for the two to properly wake up, then they talk for another thirty minutes. About their pack, the Hale pack, Nadia, school, everything bothering them.
A calming silence follows, and the two meld closer to the mattress, and to each other.
"Pack life is great," Stiles mumbles.
"Uhuh." Peter hums.
"Like, a real pack. Not like...Derek and his. They're all so...vengeful. Everyone hates everyone. I hate it. I hate them sometimes." His voice quivers, and he grips at his pillows, wet eyes staring at the ceiling. Peter tightens his arm around him and burrows into the pile of the duvet.
"I...I sometimes hate Derek too. He's changed so much. I hate who he is now, he hates me...I remind him of the past." His voice is strained, and Stiles turns around, wide eyes staring at the Were. Peter brings an absent-minded arm to the mark left on the side of his face: Burns.
"It seems like we both have a vendetta against that pack then, huh?"
Peter chuckles sourly.
"And..." Stiles hesitates. "I think...I think you're beautiful." He blushes, averting his eyes. Peter smiles sadly.
"I appreciate the thought, I really do. But nothing about this-" He roughly jerks his head towards himself "-is pretty." The Were glowers at the floor, avidly avoiding Stiles' gaze, seemingly fascinated by the patterns on the carpet.
Glaring at him, Stiles sits up, taking Peters face in his hands. He tries to move away, but the teen keeps persisting, he's angry now.
"Don't let that fucking fire define you, Peter! You are you, not a shadow of your trauma. Just because its there doesn't mean it has to overshadow everything you do. You are you. I know. So please, please believe you aren't broken, or unfixable..." His voice cracked. "You're trying to help me, I know you are. But let me help you too okay? Deal?"
He looks desperately into Peters' eyes, seeking the acceptance he knew he needed to find. Peter stared at the floor until the scowl slipped off of his face. "Sure. If that's what you want." Peter mumbled, avoiding Stiles happy gaze. Letting out a content sigh, Stiles settled back into his bedding.
"Thanks, Peter." Twisting around the mound of bedding, Stiles smiled at him. Peter deserved better.
Another twenty minutes pass, until finally, the two drag themselves out of the safe haven of the bedding, trudging down the stairs, heading straight to the plates of food on the kitchen table. Nadia and John exchange a knowing look, smirking at the oblivious couple.
"It's about time you woke up...I was wondering if we'd have to skip practice altogether today." Nadia innocently and belligerently eats her breakfast, grinning as Stiles gasps, choking on his food. He hastily wipes his mouth, ignoring Johns mirth, and quickly hurries to reassure Nadia.
"No, no! There's absolutely no need to do that. It may be...one in the afternoon but, I'm ready! Actually, I'm not so hungry, why not start now?" He eagerly stands up, steadying the carton of milk as he knocks it over in his haste.
Nadia snorts, eyes crinkling and shakes her head. "No, it's fine! You must be hungry, and we've still got a while! I didn't think you two would appreciate the interruption..." She eyes their close proximity and sips her tea. Peter gives her a silent, unimpressed, look and Stiles coughs violently, nearly inhaling his food again.
He stutters, mumbling embarrassedly.
"I'll see you at 2 in the clearing? I have someone for you to meet." She smiles mysteriously, and Stiles' eyes light up, and he nods furiously.
"Yeah!"
The four eat, laughing and joking, oblivious to the stress that weighed their everyday lives down. For once, everyone was happy, healing.
At five past two, Stiles stumbled into the clearing, waving his hands around himself, spluttering madly. Nadia was sitting peacefully on a blanket, accompanied by a small, squat...?
Still picking leaves out of his hair, Stiles doesn't see the figure. "I'm really sorry about being late...I don't know what, but some small and green...things...attacked me in the-" As he toppled over, he spotted the little green person.
"It's...it's one of them! It attacked me! With leaves and dirt and insects!" In outrage, he pointed vehemently at the giggling green child. Suspiciously, he lowered his arm, watching Nadia laugh. She doubled over and placed her hand in the hand of the...thing.
"Nadia, is this the...person you wanted me to meet?"
Nadia nodded, still gasping for breath. She stood up, making her way over to an indignant Stiles.
"Yes...that was part of the training! Don't let it put you off the Mossleute, or moss folk. They're lovely people!"
Stiles stared, unimpressed.
"I was cashing in a favour! They're not violent, they're part of the fae family. Would you like to meet her, properly this time?"
Stiles nodded faintly, wide eyes following the druid. As he sat slowly in front of the plant covered figure, it reached out chubby hands to him, giggling as he gingerly took them. It had the appearance of an elderly, yet also very youthful girl. Its body was covered in lichen and moss. What other things would he see with Nadia? It was sure to be an exciting and profound journey...
"But what did you do? When she attacked?"
Stiles looked at the questioning druid and tugged his hands out of those of the mossleute, settling them in his lap.
"I just kinda...sent out a wave?" She nodded, looking impressed. "I don't know how I did it...I sent out waves of...energy? That moss thing chucked dirt in my face!" Once again he scowled at the child, who grinned innocently at him. "It ran away then."
Nadia laughed delightedly. "That's great, Stiles! I did this to test your instinctive skills, and you've excelled so far! I think I might introduce some more of my friends..." She trailed off thoughtfully.
Stiles backed away hastily. "Maybe in a more civilised way, then?"
She snorted, amiably agreeing with him. "You're...better than you should be, yknow?"
Stiles looked offended.
Hurriedly, she said "No! As in, you're a spark. Sparks can't do what you just described. But you can manipulate mountain ash, and you show a lot of the other traits of one...I don't think you're just a spark, Stiles." He gapes at her, and she slowly smiles at him.
"You mean...Do I have more magic? I'm a spark...and something else?"
"I think so!" Nadia suddenly grins, sitting down excitedly on the blanket. "That's so exciting, I like being a teacher! This is fun."
Stiles snorts, chuckling at her, before turning back to the moss child.
Nadia teaches him about the fae until the sunlight starts to dwindle, and the two leave to go home.
Sitting comfortably on the couch with steaming cups of hot chocolate, Stiles turns to Nadia.
"So, do you think you know what I am?"
Nadia hesitates, humming thoughtfully. "I'm not sure...everyone is different, not a single spark is the same as another, and not a single druid is the same as another, which goes for anything. So I think I'm going to teach you everything I know...everything I can do, not just what a spark could do. We can see what you're able to do, that might narrow it down..."
Stiles silently listens to her proposition, before nodding happily. "I'd love to know it all. I...it feels like I've suddenly been let into an exclusive new world that I wasn't allowed into before. It's great." He smiles at her softly, and she returns it with a sleepy grin.
"Welcome home, hun."