| My Brother, My Cousin |
Stiles sat in a chair by the spiral staircase. His arms were crossed, his legs splayed. The sun was only barely in the sky. After checking his phone to confirm it was 8:20 in the morning, the sliding door to the loft rolled open. He looked up to see both Scott and Deaton, alarmed looks on their faces.
"He's outside," Stiles said, motioning with his head toward the window to his left. Scott and Deaton exchanged a look before the veterinarian made for the door. Scott walked up to his best friend, watching as Deaton stepped out, only to crouch down.
"You okay?" Scott said, looking down at his friend. Stiles shrugged. "What happened?" The boy shrugged again. "Stiles?"
"I don't know, okay," he exclaimed. "I don't know," he continued, his voice digressing.
Scott placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's gonna' be okay."
"I just…" Stiles tried. "I was just, I was hungry. We were hungry. I went into the kitchen, made some breakfast. I came back and he was like...like that."
"No one else was here?" Stiles shook his head. "Did you hear anything?" Again, he shook his head.
"I mean, I was only gone for ten minutes," he exclaimed.
"It's alright, we'll figure this out." Stiles looked up at him and gave him a wary nod. "So, are you guys...together?"
Stiles looked down again. "Not really." Scott just looked at him, waiting. Stiles looked and saw his face, Scott picking up frustration-signals coming from his friend as he looked away again. "We, we were just having a little fun one night. Sleep deprivation. Another imminent threat to our lives. One thing led to another and we just let loose I guess."
"How does that even happen with Derek?"
"Not helping." Scott looked at him apologetically. "But last night," he continued, "last night was intentional. All this with Theo, what he put us through. With my dad. And with you. I just needed an out." Stiles glanced outside and saw Deaton with his stethoscope in his ears. It's then that Scott sensed it, underpinning the frustration. Jealousy.
Scott crouched down in front of him. "What is it?"
"Now he's just, he's not the same."
"The same?"
"Older."
"Oh. Your, um. Your type?"
Stiles nodded. "At least with him." Scott waited, peering over at the pair outside. "After Mexico—the second time, when he got stabbed—I actually thought it sucked. He was kinda' fun to have around."
"He still is," Scott pointed out, watching as Derek stood.
"Not like that."
"Do you...l—"
"Love him? No. I don't think so, anyway. Everything's still too raw with Malia."
"Too new with him?" Scott offered.
Stiles nodded. There's another moment and Stiles catches a brief look of confusion on his best friend's face. "What?" Scott shakes his head. "Are you, Scott are you...you know I hate it when you read my mood."
"Chemo-signals," Scott corrected with a grin. Stiles rolled his eyes. A briefer moment passed and Scott turned back to his friend. "Stiles, why're you jealous?" The human just looked away, crossing his arms. "What is it?" Nothing. "Stiles—"
"He asked for you. He asked for you after I saw him like that and I could tell he—he didn't want to be there. With me. He wanted you."
"Stiles, it could be anything. He still doesn't know a whole lot about us. About things." The balcony door opened and Derek walked in, Deaton right behind him. Derek went straight to Scott, pulling him in for a hug, the alpha making the same surprised face as he did with Theo.
/ | * | * | \
The six SUVs had only been in the United States for 20 minutes when the older woman in the backseat smiled over at the younger man next to her. "Are you anxious?"
"No, Madame," the man said, his Scottish accent easy on the ears.
"Good. I'm sorry about Kate. You're a good man, Lyall; you would've been happy together."
"I'd like to think so."
"You'll always have a place at my table."
"Much obliged, Madame Argent."
A phone rang in the front, the scarred woman in the passenger seat pulling out a satellite phone from the bag by her feet. "For you," she said, passing the phone back to the Argent.
"Yes?" … "Yes, proceed with the operation." … "No, I want visual confirmation." … "Good, inform me when Cora Hale is dead. I want photos."
/ | * | * | \
Inside Derek's apartment, Scott and Deaton sat with him, explaining the holes in his memory so far as they could recount. They went as chronologically as possible: the fire, Kate's deception, the move to New York with Laura (which is where the biggest hole was), Peter's coma, Laura's return to Beacon Hills, her subsequent murder, Peter's death, his new pack, the kanima and Matt, Peter's return, Gerard, two of his betas being captured, Cora's return, the Alpha Pack, the death of the two betas, the Darach (omitting the ensnarement), Cora's move back to South America, his and Peter's hunt for Talia's claws, the message she gave him, Stiles' possession, Malia being his niece and a member of Scott's pack, Kate abducting him (which is where he remembered his brief time with them), the deadpool and assassins, Peter and Kate's alliance and attempt to steal Scott's power, and finally his death-turned evolution. For a year, they hadn't heard from him, but Argent indicated he helped with tracking Kate after she fled.
"Malia and I can work with you," Scott offered, "see if you can still shift like your mother. Malia can transform into a full coyote, so she'll be good at helping you." Derek made no attempt to respond, only kept to cradling his head while he sat on his bed. "Derek, I, I can only imagine how much this is weighing on you. How much this is to take in. But we're all going to help you through this. Me, Dr. Deaton, Stiles," he said, looking over at his best friend leaning against the window. "Malia, your niece, you're gonna' like her. And we can, we can call Cora if you want."
Derek's head shot up. "No, don't call Cora."
"Okay, okay," Scott agreed, sitting next to the boy on the bed. "Um, will you be alright staying here? If not, we can work something else out."
"I'm fine here," he said, his head having returned to its sunken position.
"Scott, Stiles, can I speak to you alone?" Deaton said, motioning to the balcony door.
"Yeah," Scott agreed. "We'll be right back," he said, gripping Derek's shoulder.
The three made their way outside and Deaton turned to face them. "Physically, apart from the age digression, it's as if nothing happed to him. When this occurred before, his heart rate was exceedingly high and his ability to heal was almost instantaneous. That's not the case this time. His heart rate's normal. His ability to heal is steady."
"Okay, so what does that mean?" Stiles said.
"It means we might not be dealing with the same thing."
"Oh god," Stiles groaned.
"Last time, he was wrapped in wolfsbane and entombed. That process alone may be enough to account for his physiological shifts at first, but after hours in a car, through the night, something more must have happened."
"Kate," Scott said.
"Indeed. The abilities of the nagual are still largely unknown. It's possible that what you found in the temple was merely the tip of the ritual."
"She turned Scott into a berserker so I'm gonna' place a high likelihood on that one," Stiles said.
"Something else you should consider," Deaton continued. "Derek eventually reverted, and within a small amount of time given what happened."
"Yeah, but he was fighting the berserkers," Scott tried. "When they hit him, it's like it triggered something in him."
"Yes, but why then? Derek was too young to have fully grasped control. He used anger and that didn't come until later."
"He did say he was still having problems," Scott admitted.
"And he almost took my head off after your dad told him about the Hale fire," Stiles added. "Though, I suppose he's always reacted like that towards me.
"Kate needed him for a purpose," Deaton said. "When he fulfilled that purpose, what's to say she didn't release whatever hold she placed on him?"
"So, you're saying we shouldn't beat the crap out of him to try and trigger his reversion?" Both Deaton and Scott just looked at him. "What? It crossed my mind."
"It'd be nice if we could ask Kate," Scott said. "Argent wouldn't answer me if they actually caught her or not."
"She's not at Eichen House," Deaton confirmed.
"So now what?" Stiles said.
"It would be best if I inspected the source of the predicament," Deaton stated.
"You're going to Mexico?" Derek said, the door having just opened.
"For a couple nights," Deaton answered. Derek walked over to them.
"You shouldn't go alone," Scott said.
"I won't be," the veterinarian assured.
"Before you leave," Derek started, "I want to see my uncle. I want to see Peter."