Stiles throws a glance at Malia, comfortably slouched in his passenger seat, crossed ankles propped up against the corner of her open window. He's got one eye on the road as they pull out of Lydia's driveway and head back to Derek's.
Malia lets out a thoughtful sigh as she waves a hand at the stash of CDs between them. His CD player hasn't functioned properly in years, and he is once again reminded of how cool this magic stuff can be as he watches a CD shift and float out of its sleeve, coaxed by Malia's outstretched fingers. A small pink glow surrounds the CD and the first few beats of Coldplay reach his ears.
-x-
He's parked just outside of campus watching leaves fall out of trees when the passenger door opens and Malia pulls herself into the empty seat. She sends him a small smile and starts rifling through the pile of CDs collecting dust between them.
"Hm, I like this one," She murmurs, holding up a CD.
"I don't even know why I keep those here, I haven't listened to a CD since I needed that jump start a while ago," he replies.
Malia holds a finger up at him, wait for it.
He shoots her a curious look, Flashes her a bold, size 30 question mark on a blank open page on his laptop.
"Ask and ye shall receive," she murmurs as she holds the CD up between them and it starts to glow a light pink. Call it magic, call it true. Call it magic, when I'm with you.
He straightens in his seat and listens as the song continues. "No way!"
She's sporting a smug smile as her head bobs with the beat of the song.
"Teach me!" he demands excitedly.
Malia grins at him. "Now that's what I like to hear."
-x-
As he parks in front of Derek's house, Malia lets the CD drift back down into its sleeve, the music stopping abruptly with a quick squeak.
"Okay, I'm going to head back to campus, see what I can find out. You good here?" Malia asks, throwing him a questioning look as she unbuckles his seatbelt.
"Yep, as good can be expected, considering," he grumbles, almost to himself.
Stiles gets out of the driver's seat, turns and shuts the car door and leans his arms against the window ledge as Malia wriggles into the seat behind the wheel from the passenger seat.
She lets out a deep sigh as she slaps both hands at ten and two. Stiles blinks at her as she looks him directly in the eye. "I will call you as soon as I know anything. Can you like, not do anything stupid until then, please?"
Stiles lets out an incredulous snort, Flashes her Avengers' Captain America in hero pose, arms akimbo and shield on his arm.
Malia frowns at him. "I'm serious. You may be the next Emrys but you're still a loose cannon. You know what I mean."
Stiles' sense of humour fades with Malia's reminder. "Don't call me that," he retorts nervously. "It's not true so stop kidding yourselves, okay? You, Deaton and all the other magical beings need to quit speculating."
"Stiles—," Malia tries to protest.
He feels his anxiety levels rise and his fingers start to tremble with them as he cuts her off abruptly.
"—Stop. Just don't, okay? I can't–I don't –I don't have the power of the universe, okay, I just don't. I wouldn't know what to do with it anyway."
Malia continues to stare at him, looks like she's about to say something else and push, but then decides against it at the last minute and ends the conversation by starting his jeep.
"I'll call you as soon as I can," she repeats to him as he steps back and lets her reverse out of Derek's driveway.
"Be careful!" he calls back as the jeep pulls away.
-x-
The house is quiet as he shuts the front door behind him, and Stiles is surprised to see that it's just Derek moving around in the kitchen and starting up a fresh pot of coffee.
"Scott's making the rounds. Sometimes he can't help needing to check up on everyone when things are going down," Derek explains without being asked.
Stiles nods in understanding as he remembers the numerous snippets of 'alpha-instinct' discussions he's had with Scott. He continues towards the kitchen and slips into one of the stools by the breakfast bar, pulling his phone out of his pocket and placing it beside him.
The hair on his arms are tingling and he can't figure out whether it's because he hadn't used in a while and his spark's running high, or whether it's because he can't recall the last time he and Derek had been alone together. In which case, this would be the first time in years and he was getting…tingly?
Nah, must be the former, he thinks to himself as he pulls the tips of his long sleeves over his hands.
But Stiles second guesses himself when Derek turns and meets his gaze, arms crossing over his chest as he leans back against the bench on the opposite side of the kitchen.
He's older. He's got a few new wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and there are tiny hazel flecks floating in the green of his irises. The beard hasn't really changed that much and his shoulders are just as broad as ever, but Stiles doesn't feel as small as he once did.
No, Stiles feels the past few years in himself too. He feels the way his body doesn't flinch from the directness of Derek's gaze. Acknowledges the new found calm that stays with him even when he remembers that it's just him and Derek in the house. Feels a different sort of knowing. Like they're sharing a beautiful secret of safety and home.
Stiles hopes that Derek doesn't notice the skip in his heartbeat.
-x-
He hears the way Stiles' heartbeat stutters and smells, again, the anxiety under the kid's skin that never fully went away in the first place since he'd first noticed it at Deaton's. He decides not to question it for the moment.
"So, eternal life," he brings up. After what they'd discussed at Deaton's, they're finally all on the same page. "What kind of people do you hang out with these days?" he continues, only half teasing.
Stiles lowers his head and glances up at him from behind a silly mop of brown hair. "Hey, I hardly even know this witch, okay? We just thought she was another over-enthusiastic fan girl who wanted to learn the ropes, y'know?" he quotes the air as he says the words. "Malia usually has a good sense of these things so I don't know how the girl fooled us both. I kind of just thought she was hopeless at the magic thing—always placing the candles in the wrong spot, getting ingredients mixed up and always talking about the 'holy grail' and an 'elixir of life'—I had no idea she was speaking the truth the whole time."
Derek raises an eyebrow at him as he goes to grab some mugs from the cabinet and pours them both some coffee. He takes both mugs and puts them on the bar between him and Stiles.
"Speaking of truth. Fortune telling, mind reading, teleporting—" he murmurs, trying to keep the judgement out of his voice. He realises that it's probably not his place to cast judgement on whatever Stiles had been hiding from them, but he doesn't let it stop him from leaning his elbows against the bar and catching Stiles with his gaze again.
Stiles sits up straighter and stiffens his broad shoulders even though Derek can see the blush slowly creeping its way up his face.
"—It's not, it's sigil jumping, and Divination and…it's not technically mind reading, it's more like flashes of pictures…" Stiles' voice fades away as Derek's patience wears thin and he lets out a warning growl along with a flash of his wolf eyes.
"Okay I'm sorry," Stiles blurts out in a soft rush. Derek lets the blue fade from his eyes and gently steers the conversation back to what he wants to know. It's been a while since he and Stiles have had enough time to have a good, deep talk and he doesn't think Scott's been getting much out of his best friend either.
"Tell me about the power of the universe," he murmurs softly, repeating the words he'd overheard from Stiles' conversation with Malia.
Stiles' anxiety cranks up again and Derek watches the kid's fingers tremble as his heart rate picks up.
"It's–it's stupid. It's not true. Deaton and Malia and all the others, they think—but I don't, okay? It's just not—it's not—" Stiles sucks in a harsh breath and swallows spasmodically as he waves his hands around, trying to explain.
Derek frowns as Stiles begins to hyperventilate and quickly reaches up and grabs the younger man's hands with both of his own, giving them a firm squeeze. "Hey. Hey! It's okay—it's okay, just breathe."
He's still gripping Stiles' hands as the kid struggles to regain control of his breathing. Derek can smell the anxiety coming off him in waves and he squeezes Stiles' hands again. "It's just me, okay? Calm down. Breathe," he coaches slowly.
Derek's never been front and centre during one of Stiles' panic attacks before, but he's listened in on Scott talking him down from them enough times to know what to do. He waits until Stiles' breathing slows down. Watches his pupils retract and the colour creep back into his face.
"Okay? Everything's fine," he soothes. "Now just talk to me. What's wrong?"
-x-
Stiles lowers his eyes and avoids Derek's questioning gaze. The anxiety rushing through him makes his leg jitter uncontrollably against the floor and he tries to clench his hands into fists but Derek's already got them, and the older man squeezes them again in response to Stiles' instinctual movement.
"She-Malia-she's always talked about it. Almost right from the start. Me being the 'starburst' in their prophecies. My spark, i-it's…different. It grows. Fast. And it's strong and it's confusing."
-x-
Derek lets Stiles pull his hands out from his gentle grip. Watches as Stiles continues to talk.
"She says it could be stronger than the universe; that it comes from the Light."
Stiles raises his hands between them, stares pensively at his arms as blue and gold slivers begin to wind their way up and down his forearms, snaking to and fro. And Derek is hypnotised by how beautiful it is.
"But, everything needs balance, right? So with the Light should also come the Dark," the slivers of light surrounding Stiles' forearms fade until they become wisps of black, ashy smoke. His veins become prominent and black lines start coating his wrists. "They're fighting inside me, Derek. They're fighting for my vessel, I can feel it. If I have what Malia says I have, the power of the universe? – How am I supposed to control that? I'm not strong enough for that, I'm just a kid! It's too much and I don't have it. I can't."
Stiles looks up at him with torture in his gaze, arms still engulfed in tendrils of black smoke and thick strips circling his wrists.
"She says it's normal. All magical beings experience this tug of war inside them, are given the chance to choose where they belong. It doesn't matter that I bloomed late, she says it's the same. But it doesn't feel the same, Derek. This—my spark, it's different. Sometimes, I feel like I'm literally about to explode out of my skin if it's stuck in there for too long. Like I need to use, it doesn't matter if it's the Light or Dark. It feels like an addiction."
Stiles takes a second to inhale and Derek looks on as the black smoke and tendrils dissipate until they're back to the ethereal blue and gold lights. The whole time, Stiles' hands remain steady and motionless, no tremors in sight.
"I never told you this, but when I was possessed by the Nogitsune, I could remember everything even when I wasn't myself. But this, when I use…I can hardly remember what I did to save the pack last night, Der. I don't remember how I pulled all that power into myself or how I made that coven disappear. I can't remember if I used one or the other, or both."
Derek notices Stiles' hands begin to shake through the lights but doesn't interrupt.
"I remember all that Magic feeling so good pulsing through me, and asking the others if they were okay. I don't—" there's an incredulity and confusion in Stiles' eyes that makes Derek want to reach out to him. "—It didn't hurt when I died. I didn't know because it didn't hurt. All I could feel was the Magic. Everyone thinks I'm doing it on purpose but, Derek, I had no control anymore – I just kept wanting more. And I feel like the Light and Dark are just waiting for me to slip up so that they can tear my whole vessel apart."
Stiles' breaths starts to escalate again just as Derek tears his eyes away from the lights still swirling around Stiles' forearms. He ignores the way the kid speaks about the Light and Dark like they're people and without hesitation, reaches through the lights surrounding his arms and grabs his hands again. The lights disappear as he gives Stiles' hands a firm squeeze and he ducks his head to meet the kid's averted eyes.
"Listen to me, hey, listen. Every magical or supernatural being or whatever you want to call them, every one of us has its own battle. You've seen it before, you've seen it in me, you've seen it in Scott, in Lydia – every one of us has its own struggle. Yours, yours is exactly the same, you hear me? My mom, she used to say that all things have a way of twisting and untwisting. That the universe wouldn't send you anything you couldn't handle. Even if there's no other spark like yours, it doesn't matter because it doesn't belong to anybody else. Just like werewolves learn to trust their instincts and struggle to find their anchor, you just need to figure out what it is that can help you see through the Light."
"Or Dark," Stiles murmurs worriedly.
-x-
Stiles is jostled by the fist that Derek playfully shoves into his shoulder, dissolving the tension in the air.
"It's Light," Derek retorts confidently.
Stiles shakes his head, stands up and grabs both of their now cold coffees and sticks them in the microwave for reheating. "You don't know that," he mumbles under his breath, then gets a second to curse super werewolf hearing before Derek grabs him by the elbow and spins Stiles around to face him again.
They're standing toe to toe, chests almost touching. And since when did he start having to look down a little to meet Derek's eyes, anyway?
Stiles glances down at Derek's mouth, almost close enough to feel his breath. He lets out a trembling sigh, focuses on a speck of dust on Derek's right shoulder instead and murmurs, knowing that hearing his words clearly isn't an issue for the werewolf in the room.
"I'm scared. I can hardly keep up with the things I can do. It's like what Deaton said, I talk like it hardly works to keep it from working too much. I feel like I barely have a hold on it when I let it loose. Malia says that everyone can use them both at some level. But the Dark? I can feel it waiting. Malia…sometimes she can be blind – she doesn't believe I'm anything but for the Light. But she wasn't there in high school, you know? She wasn't there when I was possessed by a trickster, she didn't see me at my weakest or my worst, she doesn't feel the residues of the Nemeton inside of me, the—"
-x-
Derek slaps a gentle hand over the kid's mouth, meets his hazel eyes as they widen with a startled inhalation.
He's very aware of the fact that there's tonnes of space in the kitchen of which his body could otherwise be occupying, but all of a sudden he feels like there's nowhere else he'd rather be but right where he's standing. Toe to toe and chest to chest with Stiles.
"Hey," he murmurs, "twisting and untwisting, remember? You're stronger than this, you hear? And you've got Scott, the pack, you've got Malia and your friends in college, and your dad…and me."
Derek is startled by the level of sincerity he's feeling. How much he means the words coming out of his mouth. He feels his skin rise with goose pimples and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he lowers his hand from Stiles' mouth.
"I'm here too," he repeats as he leans in closer, letting their breaths mingle. "Whatever you need, I'm right here."
-x-
Before Stiles leans in to close the remaining distance between them, he thinks about all the different ways Derek could hurt him after this. But then his thoughts change to how it's all totally worth it, especially when he finally decides to plant a soft, unhurried kiss against Derek's waiting mouth.
Time seems to freeze around them, sound is muted in Stiles' ears. Derek still has a grip on his elbow and his other arm is hanging limply by his side. It's been a while since he's thought of Derek this way and the years have made them grow into each other with a familiarity that is surprisingly comforting. And Stiles, well he doesn't feel all that inexperienced anymore.
He's kissed his fair share of girls and boys by now and he knows what he's doing when he raises the arm Derek's not gripping and places a gentle hand against the dip of Derek's waist. The werewolf releases a strangled gasp and Stiles presses his lips more firmly against Derek's, leans in even more towards him, is about to deepen the kiss when—
-x-
—His eyes snap open, reality slams back into him as he drops the grip he has on Stiles, brushes away the large hand at his waist and takes an urgent, startled step back. He doesn't quite know what to think of this. He isn't prepared—hadn't even thought—isn't prepared for—
There's always been something there, he's not stupid, but this is—this is…
-x-
Stiles watches the colour flood Derek's face, doesn't quite know how to read the expression in his eyes. Doesn't quite know what to say or what to—
"Wait—!" Stiles blurts out as soon as he realises that Derek's going to bolt.
But Derek's already striding towards the front door, and the next thing he knows it's slamming shut, and the house echoes around Stiles with the silence Derek leaves behind.