cut
Derek woke up slowly, and looked at the brightening sky; the sun was slowly rising. He sighed and rolled out of bed, dropping on the floor immediately. He started doing his morning workout, feeling his muscles stretching and his body awakening. As he pushed up against the floor, he closed his eyes, trying to focus on nothing but breathing, but unlike before he simply couldn't.
Stiles invaded his thoughts constantly just like he invaded his life; ruthlessly and without consideration. Derek knew there was something wrong with the teen since he first laid eyes on him. He never understood just how wrong, and honestly, he never tried to understand.
He didn't want to understand but despite that he did, he finally did.
Stiles was damaged. He was just as damaged as Derek. The difference was in the way he handled it. He faced the world head on with sarcasm and snark. He said 'fuck you' to everything and everyone, and continued walking. He hid everything in his heart fighting day in and day out to stand on his own two feet.
He depended on no one.
'Compared to him I'm a failure,' Derek thought and pushed himself on his feet. He walked over to the pipe latched between two pillars and jumped up to grab it.
'He would kill me for that thought.' He smirked as he pulled himself up. A thin layer of sweat started to appear on his skin.
'He likes me.' He breathed out sharply through his nose as he pulled himself up. 'Despite everything I did, despite everything I said, he actually likes me.' Derek frowned and breathed sharply through his nose as he started to pull himself up faster and faster.
'Scent doesn't lie.'
He couldn't understand why Stiles would like him. He knew he was attracted to the younger man for a while now. Yes, he was afraid of everything Stiles stood for, but that same thing attracted him to the boy like a flame attracts a moth.
Stiles' strength, his determination, his intelligence, his annoying need to know everything, his incredible knowledge, sarcasm ,and the way he seems to see far beyond anything anyone else can see. He knew Stiles wasn't afraid of doing what needs to be done.
While Scott for example hesitates to hurt anyone, Stiles will find a way to finish something as quickly as possible. If someone getting hurt can't be avoided he'll make sure it's the bad guy.
Undoubtedly, Stiles was the strongest among them.
Yes, he was damaged. Yes, he had skeletons in his closet. Yes, he was just as broken as Derek was. But he was handling it.
'And we came close to breaking him completely.' Derek let himself fall on the ground.
He took a few deep breaths before he walked over to his closet, opened it and pulled out a clean towel. He took a clean shirt as well and made his way into the bathroom.
Isaac was still in his room. He came back really late last night, and Derek didn't have the heart to go and wake him up. Scott and Jackson were still asleep probably as well. They could sleep for an hour more.
He got into the bathroom and took off his clothes. Walking into the shower he started the water and walked under the ice cold spray. Derek growled, placed his hands on the wall and leaned forward, letting the cold water cascade down his back. He twisted his head around a bit until his neck cracked a little, and then he slowly rotated his shoulders.
Stiles was a walking paradox.
He was a teen with the mind of a seasoned tactician. He was quick on his feet, impulsive and too curious for his own good, and yet he was still alive. He was still fighting. He was still living.
'Or at least he's trying.' Derek pushed himself away from the wall, let his hands fall to his sides, straightened and tilted his head back with his eyes closed. The water hit his face like thousands of little, ice needles. It left him grounded. It left him anchored.
'He helped me. He helped Erica and Isaac. He stood beside Scott when every normal human would have packed up and ran for the hills. He survived through it all.' Derek raised his hands and pushed his hair that was sticking to his forehead back. He turned off the water and grabbed the towel to wipe the water off of himself.
'He never asked for anything but acceptance.' Derek's nose wrinkled and he threw the towel into the hamper. 'And we were too self-absorbed, too stupid and ignorant, to see him.'
Derek pulled on his pants and clean shirt before he brushed his teeth. He spit out the water with which he cleaned his mouth and looked at his reflection.
'I pushed him away despite my feelings. I pushed him away. It's my fault. My fault he's leaving. Try as I might - try as we might - he won't stay.' He leaned on the sink and bowed his head. 'But maybe, just maybe, I can give him a reason to come back.' He raised his head and looked at his reflection again. 'For both of our sakes.'
"Derek!" Derek felt a cold shiver run down his spine when Stiles' shrill scream broke the silence of the morning. He almost tore the door of the bathroom out of its hinges and ran into Isaac in the hallway. The teen wolf looked ruffled; as if he just woke up.
"Stiles!" Isaac breathed out and Derek nodded. They ran over to Stiles' room and opened the door only to stop in their tracks when they found Stiles kneeling on his bed, his head tilted back and a horrified expression on his face.
They looked up and their breath's hitched in their throats. On the glass roof, right over Stiles' bed - right over Stiles - was a sigil painted in red.
"Tell me that's not blood," Stiles whispered weakly as he crawled off of his bed and walked backwards on shaking legs towards the wall. "Please, tell me that's not blood!"
"Isaac, get Stiles out of here!" Derek snapped before he ran out of the room and into his bedroom. He grabbed his cell phone sending a message to everyone at once.
STATUS!
He heard Isaac and Stiles move down the hallway and ran after them.
"Oh my God!" he heard Stiles before he saw him. The first thing he saw on the huge window was the same sigil. It was painted in red. He looked at Stiles and found him with his head buried in Isaac's chest with his hands fisted on Isaac's shoulders. The teen wolf looked at Derek with desperation in his eyes. In that moment Derek's cell phone started beeping with a text from Erica.
He looked at it, his heart beating loudly in his ears.
(Sender: Erica)
Just woke up. What is it?
Derek gulped, trying to calm his breathing and quickly beating heart.
(Sender: Boyd)
On my way to Peter's. What happened?
Derek started breathing a bit lighter.
(Sender: Peter)
John and I are waiting for Boyd. Is something wrong?
(Sender: Lydia)
You better have a good reason from waking me and Jackson up.
(Sender: Scott)
I'm taking mom to work. What happened? Is Stiles okay?
Derek looked up and nodded at Isaac. "They're all okay, Stiles. They're all fine," Isaac murmured in Stiles' hair and rubbed his back reassuringly, and Stiles raised his head, looking for lies in Isaac's eyes before he turned to look at Derek.
"All of them answered my message. I'm calling them all in."
"Good." Stiles was breathing quickly, his heart sounded as though it would beat its way out of his chest, and he looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack.
Come to my place. We have a clue.
Derek sent the message to everyone.
"Isaac, make Stiles sit and try to calm him down. I'll make coffee."
"I'll make coffee," Isaac said and nodded down at Stiles.
Derek nodded right back at him before he walked over. Isaac let go of Stiles' shoulders only for Derek's hands to take a hold of them.
"Come." He led Stiles over to the couch and they took seats before Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles' shoulders without hesitation. He covered Stiles' hands with his own, feeling the teen shivering against him.
"Stiles, I need you to calm down. Deaton helped me protect this place. Nothing can get in unless I allow it. Calm down. This is just a message," Derek whispered to Stiles in a calm voice.
"It's painted in blood, Derek. It's painted in fucking blood. Someone died. Someone died so this thing could deliver a fucking message!"
"We don't know that, Stiles. Calm down. Panicking now won't take us anywhere…"
"I should have left! I should have packed up and left the moment this all started! I never should have stayed! I never should have-"
"Stiles, please…"
"It's gonna get me. It's gonna kill everyone. It's gonna hurt dad…" Stiles ranted in an almost delirious state and Derek was at a loss. Stiles was on the verge of a panic attack and Derek didn't know what to do. He looked around, Stiles' whispers awakening his own insecurities. "I never should have stayed!" He looked at Stiles and cursed under his breath.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, grabbed Stiles' cheeks in his hands, turned his head towards himself and kissed him hard and fast.
He felt Stiles tens up, he felt his breath hitch in his throat, he heard his heart skip a beat, and he felt Stiles' hands fist in his shirt on his chest. He pulled back and looked in Stiles' wide, shock-filled eyes.
"Calm down," Derek spoke in a low, wavering and yet demanding tone. "We'll get to the bottom of this. We have something to work with now. Calm down. Once everyone's here I'll go out and see if it's really blood, okay? If they've hurt anyone I'll kill them. I'll kill them either way. I'll take care of it, I swear. I made a promise to you, Stiles. I won't break it. We'll see this done."
Stiles swallowed difficultly and nodded with slight hesitation.
"Okay," Stiles whispered and nodded again. "Okay." He turned away from Derek and rubbed his hands against his thighs. Derek let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding, and moved back a little. Isaac came in at that moment with three cups of coffee between his hands.
"Is everyone coming?" Isaac asked as he placed the cups on the table and took a seat on the other side of Stiles, immediately placing his right hand on Stiles' left shoulder reassuringly.
"They're on their way," Derek said before he looked at Stiles again. "Stiles, do you have any idea what that sigil could mean?" Stiles shook his head.
"I don't know," he said. "But I know I've seen something similar somewhere." He took a cup in his trembling hands and took a sip. As moments passed his shoulders relaxed slowly, and his breathing and heartbeat went back to normal.
"Lydia will come too," Derek informed them. "We'll find out what that means, alright? We'll get them."
"Alright." Stiles took a deep breath and was about to say something, but a loud sound broke the tense atmosphere and Derek stood up.
"They're here." He rushed to open the door to let everyone in.
Isaac wrapped his right arm around Stiles' shoulders and leaned his forehead against Stiles' temple.
"Everything will be alright, Stiles," he whispered comfortingly and Stiles leaned against him. "We'll get to the bottom of this. Everything will be okay."
"Mama-Wolf!" Erica cried out and ran into the living room, immediately throwing herself on the couch, and pulling Stiles and Isaac since he was close, in a hug.
"Erica-"
"I'll rip their throats out! I'll rip them apart with my own hands!" she ranted as she held the two tightly.
"Stiles!" the three looked at the doorway and found the whole Pack plus John and Mellissa standing there. Stiles, Erica and Isaac stood up, and Stiles ran forwards to throw himself in his father's arms in a desperate hug.
"I'm fine, son. Everything will be alright," John whispered in Stiles' hair while the others walked into the living room, and Derek closed the door.
"I've never seen anything like this," Peter said when he stopped beside John and Stiles.
"Neither have I," Lydia murmured. Stiles pulled away from John and looked at everyone, obviously doing his best not to look at the window behind them.
"It seems to be painted in blood. Is that why you've messaged us all?" Jackson asked and Derek nodded, although he glared at him in warning.
"I'm going out to check if it's really blood. Isaac made some coffee. Serve yourselves. We'll see how we'll proceed when I come back."
"I'm going with you," Boyd said and Derek nodded, and the two left while Erica and Isaac went to the kitchen to get coffee for everyone.
"Do you have any idea what that is, son?" John asked as he and Stiles took seats on the couch. Peter took a seat on Stiles' free side; Lydia took a seat in the closest armchair with Jackson sitting on the armrest to her right. Mellissa took a seat in the armchair next to them with Scott standing beside her. Isaac and Erica came back with trays and pulled more chairs over.
"It could a be sigil, a crest or a warning of some sort," Stiles said, sipping on his coffee.
"Do you need me to go to the hospital for something that will help you calm down? I can sneak something out," Melissa spoke in a motherly tone and Stiles shook his head.
"I need to keep a clear head if I want to figure this out." Stiles gifted Mellissa with a small, wavering smile.
"I called Deaton. He can't leave the clinic but he said he will help us any way he can," Scott said and Stiles nodded.
"He can't get involved anyway. He's just an Emissary." Stiles took a deep breath and smiled weakly at John when he placed his left hand on Stiles' knee to stop it from hopping any further.
"Do we have enough books here to figure this out?" Lydia asked and Stiles looked at her with a raised eyebrow when he heard the concern in her tone.
"Almost all my books are here and I have a few things on my laptop," he answered.
"I can help you," Erica offered and Melissa nodded.
"I can help as well. We'll handle this, Stiles." The teen nodded at them.
"We can – We can cross out several things immediately. It's not a Werewolf Pack. There are only 15 Vampire Covens that have Sigils and this one doesn't belong to either one of them. Spirits, Sprites and underground Ghouls don't have sigils. Sidhe, Elves, Banshee, Skin-Walkers, Wicca and Witch Covens use similar sigils, so we can start with them."
"That's – That's a lot of possibilities." John gulped and Stiles snorted.
"It would be a lot easier if we knew what's fiction and what's fact. This way we can only do as much research as possible and hope we stumble upon the right thing."
"And I suppose you always do it that way," Jackson drawled and Stiles looked at him.
"Up until now the only creatures I've had to deal with were werewolves and a kanima," Stiles hissed. "I've studied the others because if there are werewolves and kanima nothing guarantees that the other Creatures aren't real as well. Considering that I had nothing but myths and legends to work with I think I've done a pretty good job, Jackson," he bit out snidely, with a clear warning in his tone. "So shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you!" he added for good measure.
"I'd like to see you try!" Jackson snapped right back at him and the two teens stood up at the same time.
"Jackson, sit!" Lydia and Peter hissed at the same time, and Jackson looked at them before he realized Stiles wasn't the only one who stood up. Isaac, Erica and Scott were all looking at him with yellow eyes and claws at the ready.
"Everyone, sit down," Stiles bit down and everyone looked at him with surprise on their faces. "Sit!" he snapped and the three teen wolves immediately did so, with Scott taking a seat on the armrest to his mother's left.
Stiles walked around Peter's legs and the tea table. Jackson couldn't understand why, but he actually backed away from Stiles as the human teen advanced towards him.
"I don't know what your problem is, Jackson," Stiles spoke lowly as he stopped a foot in front of Jackson. "Frankly, I don't really care. In my eyes you're just a stupid little jock; a little attention whore who thinks himself better than everyone when in fact if it weren't for your adoptive parents' money, and Danny's and Lydia's help, you wouldn't be good for anything but lacrosse. You're a stuck up little bastard, you think that just because you don't know your real parents you have all the right in the world to piss on everything because you have it oh-so-hard."
"You little-"
"You have parents, you idiot!" Stiles roared and Jackson recoiled and paled as Stiles fisted his hands by his sides with his whole body tense and coiled for attack. "You have two people who love you and who gave you everything you ever wanted! So what if your mother didn't give birth to you! She raised you, she was there for you, and she's still there for you! And you dare offend her by moping around because - imagine - the people who sired you abandoned you. You are nothing but a spoiled little brat, and unless you get off your high horse that's what you'll always be."
"How dare you talk like that to me?!" Jackson hissed and Stiles' glare intensified. "You lied to us! You lied to all of us! You tricked everyone into believing something you're not-"
"I WAS PROTECTING MYSELF!" Stiles thundered and Jackson jumped back. "I was protecting myself from the likes of you! I remained true to myself, facing my own demons on my own, making sure no one had any reason to question me or make fun of me because of them. I lied, I created a picture, a mask, because if I didn't I would probably end up like you, and there ain't no way in hell I will ever become like you!"
"Stiles-"
"You used Lydia!" Jackson interrupted John and Stiles snorted.
"Yes. I used Lydia. I used her because I needed an unreachable girl to supposedly be in love with. What you've obviously forgotten I've said, is the fact that I could see her. I saw in her something people -something you failed to see. I saw that we could be friends. I saw her intelligence, and I saw that all she truly needs is a real friend, and I wanted to be that."
"I wanted to be that to her, not because I thought it would make me popular, but because I knew we could be great friends. Because I could see we would be able to help each other. You have nothing against me, Whittemore. You hate me for whatever stupid reason. You hate me because even though you're a stupid blond, you can see. You can see that despite everything I did, despite the fact that I've supposedly lied to everyone I'm a better, bigger man than you'll ever-" in the next moment Stiles was on the floor and a terrifying, ear shattering roar thundered through the air.
Lydia screamed when Jackson found himself under Scott, with Erica, Isaac and Boyd behind him. Peter was holding back John, Melissa was looking at everything with wide eyes and her hands covering her mouth, and Derek was beside Stiles, gently helping him up with his hands on Stiles' shoulders.
He gently cupped Stiles' chin and raised his head slowly, his nose twitching at the scent of blood. He winced when he saw the blood dripping down Stiles' chin from his split lip, and his red cheek.
"Whittemore. Out." Derek growled and looked up with blood-red eyes, and Scott pulled Jackson up to his feet.
"Because of him?!" Jackson shouted, clearly outraged and beyond reason as he tried to throw Scott off.
"You're not exactly wanted here, kid," Peter spoke in a low, dangerous tone. "I suggest you leave quickly. You don't want to stay here for much longer." Jackson looked around until his eyes settled on Lydia.
She was looking at him with wide eyes and an unreadable expression on her face. He looked at Derek who seemed to be on the verge of shifting if his shivering hands and shifting jaw was any indication.
"I will bother with you when I'll have the time," Derek growled with a slight lisp, due to his growing fangs. "Get out. Now." Jackson gulped before he sneered at everyone and all but ran off, slamming the huge metal door closed.
Derek immediately looked down at Stiles. The human teen was gently probing his cheek with his fingers, testing if he jaw was dislocated or broken.
"Scott, go and bring some ice," Melissa said and rushed over to Derek and Stiles. Scott hurried into the kitchen followed by Isaac. "Sweetie, let me look at it." She kneeled beside Stiles and Derek, and smiled lovingly.
"It's not broken," Stiles pressed through his teeth and winced. "But it does hurt."
"I should break his hand for this," Derek growled with his eyes and teeth going back to normal as he helped Stiles up.
"He'll heal," John murmured while Derek led Stiles over to an armchair and John kneeled in front of him. Melissa smiled at Scott and Isaac when they came back with Scott carrying an icepack in his hand.
"It would take a while for him to heal," Derek said as he stood to the side with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Injuries inflicted by an alpha heal only when the alpha approves it," Peter whispered to John helpfully and John raised an eyebrow at him.
"Really now," he muttered in interest, eyes keen.
"Dad, don't," Stiles said before Melissa placed the icepack on his cheek. He hissed but stayed still and she smiled at him.
"It will still bruise. At least it's not broken or dislocated."
"You moved with the punch," Lydia said and everyone looked at her. Her eyes met Stiles' and he snorted only to wince.
"I'm surprised you're still here," Erica drawled and Lydia looked at her with a frown.
"Jackson had no right to do that. Stiles is still human, he could have killed him."
"It takes more than a little werewolf's fist to kill me," Stiles pressed out thought his teeth and Lydia looked at him.
"Did you mean it? All of it?" she asked.
"All of it," Stiles answered and Lydia frowned.
"Why didn't you say anything sooner? Why did you hide it for so long?"
"Would you have listened?" Stiles asked and Lydia's frown deepened. "You never would have listened."
"Stiles, don't talk too much," Melissa said and Stiles raised an eyebrow at her while the others rolled their eyes.
"Impossible," Derek muttered and Stiles shot him a glare.
"Maybe I would have," Lydia said and Stiles looked at her. "Maybe I would have listened."
"No, you wouldn't have," Stiles countered and shook his head. "You ignored my existence since ever. I was never important enough for Lydia Martin to speak with me. I was never good enough for you to pay any attention to me, and while in a way it was useful to me, in another way it made me sad. Like I said, we could have been great friends. We're more alike than you might think."
"Does it hurt?" Derek asked as Stiles leaned back in the armchair and rested his head on the headrest with a small sigh.
"Could be worse," he said softly, truthful, and Derek rolled his eyes. He took a step closer and Stiles raised an eyebrow at him when Derek kneeled beside the armrest, raised his right arm and pushed his hand behind Stiles' neck. John, Melissa and Lydia gaped when they saw the black veins spreading up Derek's hand.
"I can't heal you, but I can take the pain away. Tell me when it starts hurting again." Stiles took off the icepack and nodded at Derek with a grateful smile.
"Sure," he said and Derek nodded at him.
Stiles looked at Lydia again and tilted his head to the right with an understanding smile. "I'll understand if you want to leave. He might need you." Lydia snorted.
"He needs to cool down first. He'll call me if he'll need me. Besides, I don't think I can look at him right now. He had no right to do that. Just because he doesn't like the truth doesn't mean he can lash out at anyone."
"Had a change of heart?" Isaac drawled and Lydia glared at him.
"I'm not an idiot. I don't like what Stiles did. I hate the fact that I didn't see what he was doing. I pride myself in being better than everyone else at seeing things they can't see. How would you like it if someone pointed out your mistakes?"
"I'm not pointing out your mistakes, Lydia," Stiles spoke tiredly. "I'm just-"
"Finally saying what you should have said ages ago," Lydia interrupted him sharply. "And then again, I can't really blame you." She bowed her head with a frown. "Children can be quite cruel. I guess it's time we grew up. All of us." She looked in Stiles' eyes before looking at Derek. "What did you find on the roof?"
"It's blood; animal blood," Derek said and Stiles frowned.
"We need to figure out what that sigil means," he murmured.
"I have my laptop with me," Peter said. "I can look through the data I have."
"Erica, Isaac, can you please bring all my books here?" Stiles asked and the two ran off.
"I'll go take your laptop," Derek offered and walked away, and Stiles looked at his dad.
"Do you have to go to work?"
"I called in and said you're sick. The deputies will have everything in control," John said and Stiles smiled at him gratefully.
"What can Boyd and I do?" Scott asked and Stiles hummed.
"I don't feel comfortable with this, but maybe you two should go with Isaac and try to find the animal that suffered for this. If you find it, bring it to Deaton. He could examine it and see if he can find anything." Scott nodded just as Erica, Isaac and Derek came back.
"Melissa, do you need to go to the hospital?" Stiles asked, turning to the nurse.
"I should go. I managed to find a replacement for now, but the woman replacing me has a 2 year old at home." Stiles nodded.
"I can take you to the hospital," Derek offered and Melissa smiled at him gratefully.
"We'll split the books between us. Do you maybe have something we could write our research on?" John asked and Derek hummed.
"I think I saw some kind of a blackboard in the basement." John nodded.
"Boyd, come with me." The mountain of a teen nodded, and John squeezed Stiles' shoulder as he followed Boyd out of the living room.
"I think I've seen some papers and markers around here somewhere," Erica said.
"I'll help you look," Lydia muttered and started looking around with Erica.
"We'll go when Boyd comes back," Scott said and Stiles looked at him. "We'll have our cell phones close at all times."
"Would you mind going over to my place? I have a few more books that could be helpful," Stiles asked and Scott smiled.
"No problem. We'll bring them over on our way back." Stiles nodded and in that moment Boyd and John came back, pushing a rackety, dirty black board between them.
"This will do," John said as they pushed it over to the table.
"Let's get to work everyone." Stiles stood up and walked over to the table, immediately starting to arrange the books.
"I'll take Melissa to the hospital and come back as quickly as possible," Derek said.
"Take care; both of you." Stiles said as he glanced up at Derek, and Mellissa walked over to him and kissed his good cheek.
"You take care," she warned and walked out of the living room with Derek following after her after he threw Stiles a warning glance.
"We're going as well," Isaac said, and Boyd and Scott nodded in agreement.
"Don't stray too far," Stiles warned. "And stick together."
"Will do." Scott glanced at Boyd and Isaac who smiled at him.
"See you later!" Isaac called out to Stiles, and the three left the apartment.
"So?" Peter clapped his hands and smiled at everyone that remained. "Where should we start?"
cut
"FUCK!" Stiles snapped and jumped out of his seat when his cell phone rang unexpectedly and everyone looked up.
"What is it?" Erica worried and Stiles looked at his cell phone, letting go of a sigh of relief.
"It's Scott," he informed everyone. "Talk to me."
"Stiles, I need you to put me on speaker." Stiles frowned, his heart picking up speed and quickly placed the phone on the table, turning the speaker on.
"What it is?" Derek asked.
"We just came to your house, Stiles. I don't know about the others but I don't like what I'm seeing."
"No one likes this." Isaac's voice came over the line followed by Boyd's wary grunt.
"What did you find?" John asked.
"The door was wide open and there's that sigil on every damn window," Isaac said.
"Are you sure it's the same sigil?" John placed his hands flat on the table and braced his weight on them, his eyes darting around to look at Derek and Stiles.
Derek stood at the head of the table with his arms crossed over his chest and Stiles was beside the blackboard, left arm around his waist with the elbow of his right resting on his left forearm, and he was biting into his thumb nervously.
"Two big circles with a smaller one in the middle, one straight line running through all three circles and something resembling a snake biting its own tail around the smaller circle. There are a few strange letters scattered around the circles as well." Boyd described the sigil and everyone exchanged glances.
"It's the same sigil," Stiles muttered and shifted his weight nervously.
"Kids, I need you to get out of there as quickly as possible," John said. "Forget the books, we'll find another way."
"Roger. We'll be at Derek's in fifteen minutes," Scott said and the line broke.
"I don't like this," Stiles murmured around his thumb. "I don't like this at all."
"We need to find out what is after you," Lydia said and leaned over the table.
She looked at the books there before she looked up at the blackboard. It was almost completely covered in papers on which their findings were written.
"We've been at this for hours," Erica said. "And we're nowhere near closer to finding out what this is than we were when we started."
"At least we eliminated Witches and Wicca Covens," Peter concluded helpfully.
"Yes, but we still don't know what this sigil means," John said, and everyone looked at Stiles when he growled and rubbed his head with his hands. He moved forward, placed his hands on the table and leaned on them before he looked up at the sigil on the big window. He bit into his lip and frowned in thought.
"Stiles?" Derek called for the teen, but Stiles ignored him as his eyes darted over the books and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.
"I know I've seen this somewhere," Stiles pressed out through his teeth. "I know I did!" he snapped and pushed away from the table to pace in front of them and the others exchanged worried glances.
"Maybe you're thinking too hard," Lydia spoke comfortingly. "It's known to happen. Maybe you should try to relax a bit. Try to think of something else for a while. It could come to you."
"I can't think of anything else!" Stiles shouted and flailed his hands towards the black board, "This thing or things are coming after me, they threatened my dad and they are obviously not afraid of a bunch of werewolves!"
"And you losing it now won't bring us anywhere," Lydia reasoned and Stiles looked at her. "You never lose your cool, Stiles, don't lose it now. Think. We won't get anywhere if we panic."
"I can't think right now."
"Then try to relax," Derek repeated Lydia's advice and Stiles looked at him. "Go upstairs. Take a shower. Try to stop thinking for a moment. I know it's hard for you to stop thinking but you need to try." Stiles sighed and rubbed his face only to wince making Derek's frown. "I thought I told you to tell me when it starts hurting again," Derek chastised and Stiles snorted.
"I forgot about it." Derek rolled his eyes and walked over to him.
"Idiot," he muttered almost fondly and cupped Stiles' bruised cheek. Black veins spread up his forearm immediately and Stiles let go of a breath of relief.
"You're right. I'm gonna take a shower." He gifted Derek with a grateful smile before he looked at the others. "I'll be down in half an hour. You should take a break as well."
"Don't worry about us. We're stressed as well, but not as stressed as you." Erica smiled at him comfortingly.
"I won't take long." Stiles walked up the stairs, and the moment they heard him climb the last step, the others shared worried glances.
"I've never seen him like this," Peter muttered.
"He was never like this," John stressed out, sighed and heavily took a seat in the closest chair before he rubbed his face with his hands and sagged in his seat. "Not even when his mother died, and he was 6 then." Peter walked over to John and placed his right hand on his left shoulder in an act of comfort.
"He'll be fine. We'll make sure he makes it through this," Peter reassured and John nodded before he looked at Derek.
"Thank you. For everything, I mean. For stopping him from leaving, for doing your best to keep him safe. You're not obliged to do any of this…"
"I am," Derek interrupted him and John frowned. "I may not be the only one at fault, but I am one of the reasons Stiles wants to leave. I told him that once this is over I won't try to stop him. I can see why he'd want – why he'd need to leave. But..."
"But?" John urged with his eyes filled with something Derek couldn't name.
"But I'll give my all to show him that if he ever feels the need to come back he will have something to come back to. I want to show him that there will be someone waiting for him; someone who wants him to come back. I want to show him that I – that we need him here; that he's just as much a part of this Pack as all of us." John frowned all through Derek's little rant with his mouth parted in wonder.
"You feel something for him," he whispered and Derek tensed up. "You like him. You lo-"
"Sheriff, I-"
"Don't." John stood up and raised his right hand, and Derek, albeit unwillingly, took a step back. "Don't talk, just listen to me. You, all of you, hurt my son. You ignored him, used him, and treated him in a way no one should be treated." Everyone bowed their heads at John's words. "But…" John stopped and swallowed, "But you've seen what you did wrong. You've all seen what you did to him and you're trying to make things right."
He looked at Peter and he nodded at John.
"Derek, I don't know what Stiles feels for you. I do know that I want him to be with someone who'll be able to keep up with him; someone who'll treat him right - who won't hurt him intentionally. Now I don't know if you are that sort of man, but my son is not the only one who can see things." John walked over and stopped in front of Derek.
He looked in Derek's eyes strictly, and even though Derek wanted nothing else than look away, even though all his instincts were telling him to push this man away, Derek fought against it.
And he stood tall.
"You, Derek Hale, are not a good man in the conventional meaning of that word. You're not the kind of man a parent would want for their child. But…" John stopped and nodded minutely. "But you might be - just might be - good for my child. You two are so much alike that it hurts me, but neither one of you is broken. You're not broken. You're just bent. Now, as much as I hate this, I can't be the one to help Stiles, but you might be. I won't try to fool myself into thinking my son is a good man. From what he told me about everything he did for Scott and for you, I would be an idiot to think him conventionally good. Together, you two just might be good. So don't fail me, Hale, because if you do nothing on this God's Green Earth will be able to save you." Derek gulped and nodded.
He didn't know what to say to that.
Honestly, nothing he could ever think of would be good enough now.
So he settled on the fact that he would have to prove himself.
And he would.
He would.
cut
"Do you think it might be a combination of several sigils?" Peter asked and Lydia looked up at him while the others frowned. Isaac, Scott and Boyd came back half an hour ago, and Stiles had yet to rejoin them.
"Why would they combine sigils? I thought they're supposed to be some kind of a crest." Erica said.
"Well, usually they are," Peter confirmed Erica's words. "But considering everything we've been through, I'd say we should try to think a little outside of the box."
"Trust me, three weeks ago if anyone told me about werewolves I would send them to the loony bin," John drawled. "I don't think I can think any more 'outside the box' than I'm already thinking without having my mind blown."
"So I think it's safe to say Stiles inherited the sarcasm from you," Isaac commented with a smirk.
"Speaking of Stiles, he sure is taking his sweet time," Lydia muttered and looked at Derek. "Maybe someone should check up on him."
"I'll g-"
"Sweet mother of Anakin Skywalker!"
Everyone jumped in their places and looked up. A moment later Stiles ran down the stairs in nothing but a pair sweatpants, his bare feet hitting against the metal stairs.
"Stiles?" John asked while the others gaped.
"I can't believe I didn't think of it before!" Stiles cried out and rushed over to the table. He started throwing books to the side and moving papers around, obviously looking for something specific.
"Stiles..." Derek gulped with his mouth watering at the sight presented in front of him. Others couldn't help it either.
Well except John, Scott and Erica.
Others never saw Stiles without a shirt on. He was all lean, defined muscle mass.
"Son, I think you should-"
"Not now, dad," Stiles murmured as he dug through the books, murmuring something unintelligible into his chin.
"Stiles-"
"I can't believe I've completely overseen it," Stiles interrupted John who rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. "It's so obvious! I'm a right idiot!"
"Stiles!" John snapped and the teen stilled before he looked at John questioningly making his father sigh fondly. "Would you mind sharing with the class?"
"It's a Congregation!" Stiles exclaimed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's a fucking Congregation and I was too stupid to see it because it was so damn obvious!" he flailed and started digging through the books and papers again.
"Congregation of what?" Lydia asked.
"This." Stiles opened a book, and to the shock of everyone in the room tore a few pages out of it.
He then moved over to the board and tore down everything they put on it before he started sticking the pages around in what seemed to them random order, but to Stiles it obviously made sense.
"Mind telling us what this is?" Peter asked. Stiles sighed, ran his fingers through his hair and turned to face them.
"Well it's not a sigil for once," Stiles grumbled. "It's a message; a message written in the old language of the Woodland Elves."
"Woodland Elves?" Isaac wrinkled his nose.
"Yes, Isaac; it's written in the language of the Woodland Elves. Contrary to popular belief, they are neither cute little creatures that resemble fairies neither are they wise sages and guardians of woods. They are a practically extinct nation of warriors. Now this..." Stiles turned so quickly towards the blackboard that everyone wondered how he didn't get a whiplash. "This is a message. Now all we need to do is find out what each of these signs mean separately, and we'll know what they want, although I'm willing to bet my life on the possibility that it means something along the lines of 'hide your women and children, and little gay sons because we're coming to kill you all and overtake you territory'." He turned to face everyone again with a small expectant smile.
John cleared his throat, Peter chuckled, Erica, Lydia, Boyd and Scott exchanged glances and Derek shook his head exasperatedly.
"And you thought of that while you were showering?" Isaac concluded and Stiles shrugged.
"Well, at first I thought that I really need to relax a bit so I thought I might play WOW for a bit, and then I thought I never continued my Doctor Who marathon, and wham!" Everyone jumped when he clapped his hands. "I thought of Gallifreyan and thought that maybe this isn't so different from it, and then I remembered reading about the Woodland Elves." He flailed as he ranted, his eyes shining with excitement, and the others could only stare at him in wonder.
"Son?" Stiles looked at John in confusion when he heard his father's tight, strained voice.
"Yeah?"
"Half the time I don't understand a word you're saying but you're – you're amazing." John said with a small, loving smile and Stiles grinned.
"Aren't I?"
"So, all we need to do now is find out what each symbol means separately," Derek concluded and Stiles nodded.
"Yeah. And that shouldn't be too hard since the Woodland Elves don't exactly have a very vast vocabulary." Stiles rolled his eyes and shrugged.
"So, what are we waiting for?" Peter clapped his hands and winked at Stiles who rolled his eyes at him.
"I don't know what you're waiting for, but I know I'll have to wait until tomorrow," Lydia said and everyone looked at her. "Unlike several of you I don't have a good excuse to stay away from home tonight." Everyone frowned at that.
"Lydia's right," Derek said and the others looked at him in surprise. "We've managed to achieve at least something tonight. Erica, Boyd, could you two take Lydia home? I don't want her out there alone. Scott you should be on your way to pick up your mom either way. Peter, John, you should go home as well. We'll meet up again here tomorrow to figure it all out. If anyone's not here nine o'clock sharp I'm considering you taken. Clear?"
"Aye, aye, captain." Erica saluted Derek with a smirk while the others nodded.
"I'll call, Jackson. I won't bring him with me tomorrow but I need to see if he cooled down. He may be an idiot-"
"But he's your idiot, right?" Stiles finished for her and Lydia looked at him. A moment later Stiles snorted and shook his head. Lydia followed with a small tilt of her lips and a nod of her head.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said and walked out of the living room without another word.
"Okay, what was that?" Erica asked and Stiles smiled at her.
"A quiet agreement," he explained. "You should go, she doesn't like waiting." Erica snorted and walked over to Stiles to hug him tightly.
"You shouldn't come down shirtless anymore," she whispered in his ear and pulled back with a smirk on her face while Stiles looked at her with a confused frown.
"Why?" he murmured and looked down at himself. Erica giggled while Boyd clapped Stiles' shoulder on his way out.
"Get some rest," Boyd said and the two walked away.
"You too!" Stiles called out after them.
"I'll see you tomorrow." Scott walked over to hug Stiles and the human teen clapped his back.
"Sure. Get some rest." And Scott left as well. Not a moment later Stiles found himself wrapped in his dad's arms.
"Sleep well, son. I'll have my cell phone close in case you need to call." Stiles smiled and buried his face in his dad's neck for a moment.
"Thank you, dad. I'll see you tomorrow." They parted and Stiles pointed a finger at Peter. "You keep your greedy paws off my dad, you hear me?" Peter snorted while John raised an eyebrow at Stiles.
"I tremble in my boots," Peter drawled and Stiles snorted.
"You're wearing dress shoes." Peter smirked and John rolled his eyes. He patted Stiles' shoulder again and smiled at him.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, and he and Peter left.
"We should go to sleep," Derek suggested.
"I'm about to fall asleep where I'm standing," Isaac agreed and yawned. "See you in the morning." He walked over to Stiles and hugged him tightly, and Stiles chuckled as he patted Isaac's golden locks and the slightly younger teen chuckled cutely.
"Sleep tight," Stiles wished. Isaac waved at Derek and the Alpha nodded at him. Once he and Stiles were alone Derek looked at him and frowned when he saw the contemplative expression on Stiles' face.
"Stiles?" he called out and the teen looked at him.
"Sorry. I was just thinking that I should just continue working," he said and Derek's frown deepened.
"You need rest, Stiles. Just like all of us." Stiles frowned and bowed his head.
"I don't feel like sleeping," he murmured and Derek frowned.
And then it dawned on him.
"You'll sleep in my room tonight," Derek said and Stiles frowned.
"What?"
"I said – you'll sleep in my room tonight," Derek repeated.
"But where will you-"
"I'll sleep here, or in your room." Derek shrugged and Stiles tilted his head to the side.
"Why would you-"
"It's the markings. I understand that you don't want them to be the first thing you see in the morning." Derek shrugged and Stiles' frown deepened.
"But you won't mind them being the first thing you see in the morning?" Derek grunted and looked to the side, trying to avoid Stiles' scrutinizing gaze.
"I won't mind," he said and Stiles rolled his eyes.
"Come on. We can share," Stiles said and Derek's eyes widened.
"What?" he blurted out and Stiles raised an eyebrow at him.
"I thought you werewolves have super-hearing. We. Will. Share. Now come on; before I change my mind." Stiles walked up the stairs not even waiting to see if Derek followed him.
He walked into Derek's room without a second thought, leaving Derek standing in the doorway. Stiles threw himself on the bed face first and groaned.
"Derek, please don't make me drag you here." Stiles' muffled voice reached Derek's ears and the Werewolf cleared his throat as he clenched and unclenched his hands by his sides.
"I'll be right back." He rushed into the bathroom, leaving Stiles alone. A moment later Stiles raised his head and tilted it to the side before he nuzzled against Derek's pillow.
It smelled like Derek; like grass, and rain, and leather. He took a deep breath and exhaled, and something that happened earlier that day came back to him. His lips tingled and not because of the cut on his bottom lip.
'Why did he do that?' he wondered. He rolled onto his side, impulsively pulling the blanket over himself. 'Okay he did say he liked me, and he obviously knows I like him, but why? I was panicking. He could have just slapped me or something. Why did he kiss me?' a shiver ran down his spine and he pulled in on himself a bit.
'I didn't exactly mind,' he confessed to himself.
He didn't mind.
If he were to be perfectly honest he wouldn't mind if it happened again.
Only in a better situation.
'Much better situation.' He heard the door close and Derek walked over to the bed.
He took a seat behind Stiles and the teen took a deep breath as Derek lied down carefully. The bed was big enough for the both of them and when Derek settled beside him, there was still place for one more fully grown person between them.
But Stiles could feel the heat of Derek's body radiating from him.
'Come on, Stiles. You can't turn into a coward now,' he thought strictly and turned over to face Derek. The alpha was lying on his back, his legs crossed at his ankles and his fingers entwined on his stomach, and Stiles' eyebrows met the line of his hair.
"I will seriously laugh if you honestly sleep like that all the time," he said dully and Derek tilted his head to the side to look at Stiles. His unique eyes glowed in the dark and the moonlight painted his skin in the color of mercury.
'Breathtaking,' Stiles thought.
He didn't know that Derek was thinking much the same thoughts.
Stiles' eyes looked even more amazing. They were filled with so many things Derek couldn't even start naming them.
"Derek?"
"Hm?"
"Why did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Kiss me. Why did you kiss me?"
Now, Stiles expected a few things to happen. Judging by Derek's usual behavior, he expected Derek to tell him to shut up and go to sleep. He expected Derek to run out of the room and never talk to him again. He expected a threat in the least. What he didn't expect was for Derek to sigh, turn on his side to fully face Stiles, and look him straight in the eyes.
"I kissed you…" he hesitated, "I kissed you because you were panicking and I didn't know what else to do. I kissed you because I needed to snap you out of it, and I was ready to accept you screaming or hitting me if kissing you would snap you out of the panic attack."
That was something Stiles didn't expect.
"And there's another thing," Derek muttered. "I kind of wanted to kiss you."
Now that was definitely something Stiles didn't expect.
He swallowed.
He cleared his throat.
He shifted in his place a bit.
He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.
He cleared his throat and tried again.
Nothing.
Derek chuckled and Stiles raised an eyebrow at him.
"Well, who'd have thought this possible? Stiles Stilinski is actually speechless," Derek teased and Stiles blushed furiously.
"Idiot," he muttered and Derek chuckled again.
Silence settled between them as they looked in each other's eyes.
"I didn't do it to make you stay here," Derek whispered and Stiles frowned. "I promised something to you, Stiles. I promised to give you a reason to come back here. I promised that nothing would happen if you want it so." Stiles nodded slowly.
Did he want something to happen? Derek sounded so sure of the fact that Stiles would leave. Stiles was sure he would leave. But he wasn't sure he would stay away.
Not anymore.
He wasn't sure that he would never come back. Not if this is how things would truly be if he were to come back. He needed to leave. He needed to try to build his own life. Whether it would be outside of Beacon Hills or here, he didn't know.
But he needed to leave.
That didn't mean he couldn't take something with him.
"Would you…" he stopped and cleared his throat again, "Would you kiss me again?"
A small smile pulled on Derek's lips. He slowly raised a hand and caressed Stiles' bruised cheek with a tenderness Stiles didn't know Derek possessed.
Derek moved closer and rested his forehead against Stiles'. He cupped the back of Stiles' neck with his hand and caressed the skin behind Stiles' ear with his thumb.
"I would do so much more, Stiles," Derek spoke in a raspy, breaking voice. "So much more. If only you'd let me." Stiles looked deep in Derek's eyes. What he found there, what he found behind layers upon layers of shields, made something in him snap.
"Then kiss me."
And Derek did. And something in that kiss, just like there was something in Derek's eyes moments prior to it, told Stiles that Derek's words meant much, much more than what it seemed.
cut
Jackson deserves a kick in the ass.