Stiles anxiously swiveled on the stool at the animal clinic as Dr. Deaton finished assuring a lady that her dog would be fine but needed overnight observation. She left and the vet turned his attention to the ever mobile Stiles.
"Yes, Mr. Stilinski, what is it?
Stiles sprang up and took a deep breath. "Is there something out there that can give werewolves brain damage?
Dr. Deaton blinked at him but considered the question. "What do you mean?"
"Right, like, memory loss or something? Because a couple days ago, we had our pack meet. Derek comes in and says there's some other werewolf lurking around the woods and we all go out to investigate. Derek points out a place where he smells something but Scott doesn't!"
Deaton listened carefully, "that is strange, the alpha unable to detect a scent like that.
"But that's not the thing! I asked Scott about it today and *he had no idea what I was talking about*! He doesn't remember! And Jackson and Liam said they thought there was nothing out there," Stiles said, his voice higher than normal.
Deaton raised his eyebrows and sat down to consider. "Brain damage," he muttered, mulling it over. "This is a problem. I don't know right off hand anything like a poison that could cause memory loss explicitly in werewolves, but I can look in to it." He paused, and then asked about Derek.
Stiles shrugged, "I don't know, I haven't asked."
"You should. It'll be helpful to know if this is affecting him as well."
Stiles frowned, but nodded.
"Is anyone else affected?"
Stiles stopped pacing and squinted in concentration. "Malia, Erica, Lydia. They don't seem to remember it either."
"So, everyone but you?"
Stiles' eyes went wide. That can't be right. He didn't make it up, right? No. It definitely happened. He felt a slight dropping sensation about manipulated memories, but pressed it down. No. This was a real event.
"You should really check with Derek," Deaton emphasized.
"Yeah… yeah I'll do that."
"What," Derek said as he opened the door ever so slightly to see Stiles slightly panicked face.
"Dude, last week. What do you remember?" Derek stared at him for a moment before asking what he meant. "Last week, when we went into the woods to look for that mystery wolf you thought was out there, what do you remember?" Stiles was breathing a little heavily and not from physical exhaustion. Derek could smell the sick scent of stress hormones in Stiles' sweat and for some reason let him into the loft.
"You have to remember. You brought it up!" he pointed accusingly to Derek, who just raised an eyebrow. "I did not make this up!" Stiles' arms flew up and he rubbed his head in exasperation. He was very close to a full panic attack and despite the plaster cast of apathy on his face, Derek moved forward and placed a hand on his shoulder and steered Stiles to his couch and sat him down, forcefully.
"Calm down, Stiles," he said evenly, looking down at him on the couch.
"Yeah, yeah," Stiles gasped out and took a moment to do those breathing exercises. Meanwhile Derek thought back to last week, to figure out what Stiles was going on about. "Please," Stiles said quietly, "tell me you remember and I'm not crazy."
"You're undoubtedly crazy, Stiles. But not about this particular thing. I do remember going to the preserve and finding a strange scent, but you weren't there."
"But!" Derek could smell the panic coming back but Derek broke him off.
"I believe you though."
"You… do?"
"Yes, something is not right and I don't like it. Tell me everything." Which Derek instantly regretted as Stiles flew through the event and how no one else seems to get what was going on. Derek frowned.
"This must be some form of magic or something. I need you to look into this Stiles."
"What? Why me!"
"It appears to be only affecting the nonhumans. Even I'm struggling to sense the other wolf in the woods. From what you're saying I may not even remember this conversation for long."
Stiles swallowed and nodded. "So… I have to do this alone."
Derek frowned at the tone in Stiles' voice. The thought of Stiles bumbling around on his own after something unknown seemed a bit terrifying to him and the wolf in the back of his mind growled low at the idea. "Stiles," Derek started and the kid jumped slightly and looked up for the first time, "you're not alone… just…" Derek struggled to find the word as Stiles looked at him with a confused expression, "independent."
"Independently?" Stiles repeated.
"I think you're capable, just don't do something stupid."
"Something stupid?" Stiles asked innocently, a sudden smile spreading across his face. "Well if I didn't know any better I'd say you're worried about me!"
"Are we done here." Derek stated, ignoring the teasing grin on Stiles face.
"Yup! Don't mind me. Batman on the case." Stiles popped off the couch and left in a hurry.
His loft once again empty, Derek felt a brief tide of anxiousness well up and come out of him in a quiet, simple declaration of "Fuck."