Stiles woke up bright and early and snuck in just as the gates were open. He got to his home and into bed before his father woke, but not fast enough to get any sleep. Sighing he hopped out of bed like he was just waking up. Bags under his eyes, and movements slow, he carried on through the day like nothing had happened. Not that he could tell anyone anything anyway. Before night fell he had a chance to visit with his mother, a short and sweet moment, before he went home. His face hit the pillow and he knew nothing until the morning.
And so the days went, he did not heed Derek's warning, but he never saw Derek so he figured the wolf didn't know.
Until about a week later Stiles was sitting alone by his mother's grave and he felt more rebellious than he had all week. Against the village, against Derek, he needed to do something. Hopping up he began wandering the forest. He knew little of tracking, but there had been a recent rain so the prints in the mud were a bit easier to follow. After a long time of moving from print to print (really he was just wandering the forest aimlessly) he found one big enough to be Derek's. He looked for a similar one near it, but couldn't find one. Sitting next to it be let out a sigh. He put his hand next to the print and felt so small. He'd never thought of Derek as "big" but he'd really never thought of Derek as a wolf either. And here was a big wolf paw dwarfing Stiles's hand. He felt tired and he leaned against a nearby three and allowed his eyes to rest for a moment.
"Was i unclear?" A gravely voice snarled. Stiles's eyes opened sleepily to see Derek. Crouching before him, eyes angry and knuckles to the dirt.
"Not at all." Stiles said sleepily as he rubbed his eyes.
"And yet...are you stupid?" Derek asked leaning forward and looking angrily into Stiles's eyes.
"Is this yours?" Stiles asked as his fingers traced the paw print in the dry ground.
"Does it look like mine?" Derek snapped holding up his hands. Human hands. Bigger than Stiles, but normal human hands. Stiles smiled and took one into his, tracing the creases and outlining the fingers. "Why are you in the woods?"
"Why am i supposed to be out of the woods?" Stiles asked slyly.
"Because there's a war going on." Derek said standing and crushing the paw print with his heel. "A war i don't want you caught up in."
"You're caught up in it." Stiles said standing and grabbing Derek's hand again.
"Yes, but I'm not a small delicate human village boy." Derek said not pulling his hand away.
"I'm useless. So what? Either let me help you or-"
"Or nothing. I told you no." Derek snapped looking down at Stiles angrily.
"Well you cant stop me." Stiles said indignantly. "I'll keep coming into the forest and you can't fight a battle and rescue me at the same time."
"Stiles please." Derek suddenly looked exhausted. Like he'd been doing exactly that, juggling Stiles and war. Stiles didn't particularly like being juggled, or making Derek look so tired either for that matter.
"Look, i know you have this vendetta and i know you wont let me help fight your battles, but i can still help. I can...um...bandage you up if you get hurt. Or...cook you snacks for lunch between battles. I don't know how war works, but i can help." Stiles said earnestly. Derek sighed and smiled and looked down at Stiles with an expression of weariness.
"You don't know how war works." He repeated before pulling Stiles into a tight hug. "Good." Derek said softly kissing the top of Stiles's head before suddenly he let go and was gone, loping away on all fours.