Life goes on.
Stiles goes back to college because classes don't stop, even after something so life-altering.
And he finds that his magic is so much easier to control when he's not fighting it all the time.
Which means practicing sigil jumps.
Lots of sigil jumps. Mostly to Derek's house. Sometimes to wherever Scott is, but mostly to where Derek is.
You'd think that after months of appearing out of thin air, his boyfriend (yes, boyfriend!), would be used to it by now, but Derek still pins him with some piercing sapphire blues as he materialises in the living room, just missing an armchair by inches.
Stiles wobbles before regaining his balance.
"Damn, I forgot this was here," he exclaims by way of greeting.
Derek smirks at him from the kitchen, eyebrows arched in amusement.
"How was class?"
Stiles offers him a small grin. "Which one? Magic lesson with Malia or Alchemy 101 with Professor Daffodil?"
One of Derek's eyebrows arch even more. "Your professor's name is Daffodil?"
"Birthday's in Spring, parents were probably the first ever hippies of the world, likes to teach with songs about chemical substances. His class isn't too bad," Stiles reflects.
Derek makes his way to Stiles and places large, warm hands on Stiles' waist when he gets close enough. "So let me get this straight, you've got a hippie professor teaching you the basics of early modern science?"
Stiles lifts his arms and drops them onto Derek's shoulders, content to just be held as he replies. "Twenty-first century, dude, anything goes."
Derek looks pensive for a second. "Hm, I can't decide on whether I regret missing college."
Stiles smirks. "College with me," he corrects playfully, "missing college with me."
Derek smiles into Stiles' waiting mouth and their lips finally meet with their hello kiss.
"Ughhh, please don't start, dudes, we just got here."
Stiles huffs a laugh into Derek's mouth before reluctantly pulling away and burying his head into the crook of Derek's neck just as Scott and Kira come through the door carrying six boxes of pizza.
"Yeah, pack night is not DerekandStiles night," Malia adds, as she walks through the door behind Kira with three bags of potato chips in her grasp and her bag slung over her shoulder.
"Clothes in the car, Cinnamon," Malia throws at Stiles, messing his hair with a free hand as she passes them on her way to the kitchen.
Stiles feels Derek's amusement with her use of the nickname.
-x-
"I smell like what now?" Malia questions. They're on campus, lounging on the grass under the shade of a giant tree as Stiles looks up at her from his lazy sprawl on the ground.
"The wolves," he elaborates. "They say you smell like honey. They couldn't figure it out for the longest time because they didn't know about you, but apparently it goes great with my 'cinnamon'."
Her face transforms into amusement. "You smell like cinnamon?!" she exclaims with a laugh. "Dude, that is such a girly smell, I can't believe you smell like cinnamon. Do you wear perfume? Tell me your secrets."
Stiles plucks a clump of grass from beside him and throws it at her. "Idiot, it's not like that! You can't exactly talk, Miss 'Honey'!" he retaliates.
"Oh, no no no, I'm a girl, it's totally fine for me to smell like honey. But you're cinnamon!" Malia laughs again, whole body now shaking with mirth.
"Hey! I'll have you know that cinnamon is a perfectly masculine scent to have, thank you very much!"
Malia is still laughing at him as she shifts around to lie on her back. Now both of them are staring up at the leaves of the tree, her head resting beside his and their shoulders aligned but not quite touching.
"Honey and cinnamon," she voices out loud, tone thoughtful. "They're…great together."
Stiles smiles at the leaves above him. "Like milk and cookies."
"And salt and pepper," she adds.
They lie there for a while longer until Malia lets out another amused giggle. "I'm never not calling you Cinnamon ever again, though!"
"Dammit!"
-x-
Stiles reluctantly disengages himself from Derek's arms and trails Malia into the kitchen as she rips open a bag of Doritos and dumps its contents into a waiting bowl.
"Okay, what's it gonna be?" Derek asks from where he's now standing beside the TV, cord connected to Stiles' laptop in his hand.
The front door opens and closes again.
"I am not watching 300 again," Lydia chimes in as she makes her way into Derek's living room.
"That wasn't me that time, that was Danny and Ethan," Scott protests.
Stiles perks up at this and struggles to look nonchalant as he asks, "oh, you've heard from them?"
Scott sends him a sympathetic look like yeah, I know what you're feeling, dude. "They're on the way to New York, think they're gonna hang there for a while. See what it's like and all."
"Oh," Stiles lowers his gaze as he slips another Dorito into his mouth. He tries not to look disappointed, knows that even if the girls don't notice it, Derek and Scott have already picked up on his changing mood.
"Hey, actually, I vote Hangover 3," Scott continues, having improved his conversation redirecting skills in the past few months. "Reason being, Derek doesn't watch movies and hasn't seen anything."
"Not denying it," Derek mumbles from his position behind the TV.
Stiles releases a slow sigh as he takes the bowl of Doritos from Malia's offering hand and drops into the corner of the couch.
"You'll love it, Der. It gives a completely new meaning to the term 'Wolf Pack'," he explains through his mouthful of Doritos.
Scott drops to the floor beside him and pulls two pizza slices out of one of the boxes balanced on the coffee table. His best friend turns at the waist to pass a slice to Kira seated cross legged in the armchair behind him just as Lydia leans forward from her spot in the other armchair and picks a slice of her own.
"No spoilers please," Malia interrupts them, as she drops down in front of the coffee table armed with her own throw rug. "I haven't seen it either."
Stiles tracks Derek's movements as he picks his way through the now crowded living room. Derek pauses by the pizzas and takes two slices from the pepperoni box before taking the open spot beside Stiles. He accepts the slice Derek offers him and lets their shoulders touch for a minute before leaning back against the cushions.
He thinks that maybe this is a pretty good time to be okay. Surrounded by the people most important to him with no threatening events or creatures in the horizon. It's definitely not the same as before and sometimes there's still that small piece of guilt in the back of his mind about it.
He's aware of it.
Feels it nestled between the dark essence of the Nemeton and the remnants of the Nogitsune.
Derek takes a hold of his hand and Stiles' eyes are drawn to their intertwined fingers, thoughts wandering away from that corner of his mind. His spark lights their hands up in his eyes and there's a white glow surrounding them that he knows is invisible to everyone else. And he feels the anchor deep in his bones, deep in his heart. Knows that Derek has no idea how much of a grip his psyche actually has on Stiles.
There's a quick flash in his mind, the feeling of a gentle finger stroking down the side of his neck, and he looks up from his and Derek's intertwined fingers and straight into Malia's slightly concerned gaze. She raises an eyebrow at him.
He lets his magic seep out of him gently as he feels its need to soothe his sister witch's concern for him. Lets it wash over her and cradle her in its ephemeral arms, almost with a mind of its own. But he knows he's got it under control. Even if his fight against the darkness is constant, Stiles knows that the base of his magic now belongs to the Light. His anchor makes it so. The deepest of his own instincts make it so.
And if sometimes his head just spins and spins from the thought of how much access he has to both the Light and the Dark, or of how big the universe actually is and how much power it could give him? He reminds himself that he's okay. And all he has to do is look for those green, green eyes. Feel the grip on his hand and remember the people around him, remember who he is. And he practices and practices reeling his spark back into himself and sending his magic into the earth under his feet. Imagines it growing thick, strong roots. Grounding him and keeping him from floating away. And it's okay that each day he can manage to fly further and further away without looking back. Because the further he can go, the stronger he can be. And the better he can protect them all.
Because that's what he needs to be able to do.
He needs to be able to protect them all.
-x-
It's mid-afternoon on a Tuesday and he still needs practice but Derek thinks he's starting to get the hang of discerning Stiles' sigil jumping patterns. Which is why he's a little surprised when he smells the kid materialise onto the property but refrain from entering his house.
His brow furrows with curiosity more than anything else, and Derek gives it a few minutes to settle before deciding to investigate.
He's casually strolling through the trees, content to just follow Stiles' scent without urgency until finally he makes out a lone figure sitting in the grass, arms draped over bent knees. As Derek gets closer, he notices the almost invisible trail of magic, silver lines weaving seamlessly from Stiles' fingers and seeping into the earth.
Derek pauses, not sure on whether to continue or retreat. Stiles' abilities progressed rapidly and it was more often than not that he saw the kid attempting something new. Derek pushes away the frustration of knowing that he hasn't had enough experience with mages and magic to know what to do in these types of situations. Acknowledges that all this is new to everyone.
"It's okay," Stiles' voice drifts to him calmly as his magic continues to flow into the ground. "I was just feeling a little out of it before I came here. I needed a minute," he adds.
Derek squashes the mild alarm that courses through him. Stiles is still learning and he reminds himself that things like this will happen as he swallows down the lump in his throat and reassumes moving forward.
And when Derek gets near enough, he drops down behind Stiles, moving until his legs are on either side of him and his chest is against Stiles' back. Gently, he tucks his chin against Stiles' shoulder and rests his own arms on his bent knees, telling Stiles with his body to take however long he needs.
Stiles inhales slowly, releases a calm breath and leans back until he's tucked snuggly against Derek's chest.
"Thank you," he murmurs, relief thick in his voice.
Derek responds by planting a soft kiss against the side of Stiles' neck.
-x-
Derek notices the twitch in Stiles' fingers, senses the tension in his shoulders and the chaos in his thoughts. He knows that things are far from solved. That Stiles has a long way to go with his magic and finding his own way, and if there's anything Derek has extensive experience with, it's being tortured by nobody but your own damn self.
So he doesn't push.
Instead, he leans forward and takes two more slices of pepperoni pizza easily passing one to Stiles. The movie begins and Derek casually lifts an arm, loops it around Stiles' shoulders making sure to keep his oily fingers away from any clothing, and squeezes Stiles to him playfully.
The far away look snaps out of Stiles' gaze and the kid manages a small, enamored grin.
"Let's see what all the fuss is about, huh?" he murmurs softly into Stiles' ear as he nestles Stiles deeper into his side and turns his attention to the movie.
And if he buries his nose into Stiles' hair for a second and takes a slow, deep inhale of that rich, spicy cinnamon, nobody would ever know.
-x- END