mika

Derek finally reaches out and grabs Stiles by the arm, slowing them to a walk. They must be far enough out of range now.

Stiles locks his fingers together and sets them on top his head, fighting off a cramp in his side that threatens to make him reconsider his bedtime ritual.

”I thought this little inter-pack meet up was supposed to be friendly. Kimi said the guy was reasonable.”

”Maybe he was when she knew him as a kid.”

Stiles chances a look in Derek’s direction. He has a nasty gash on his forearm, but otherwise was mostly covered in the other werewolf’s blood.

“You want to know what I think?” Stiles drops his arms.

”Do I have a choice?”

”Nope. I think the guy figured Kimi would come, not you. He was betting on it, in fact, so he could intimidate her, you know? Bully her into doing what he wanted. But then the door opened and instead of the young, naive teenager he knew all those years ago, he got, well… you.”

”You might be right,” Derek says after a few seconds of silence. “But Kimi wouldn’t have let him intimidate her either.”

”Oh, I know that. Trust me, I know. Kimi is about as naive as I am shy.”

Derek snorts.

”But you like that about her,” Stiles concedes.

Derek’s voice is softer now. ”Yeah. I do.”

It stings, in the way it always did, to hear Derek talk about his wife that way. Stiles feels it in his chest, offering no relief from the labor of his heavy breathing. Now it just hurts twice as much to drag the oxygen into his lungs.

Stiles winces and looks up towards the sky, trying to rid his mind of the pain in his sides, the lurch in his chest, and the fact that his feelings for Derek are just as strong now as they had been ten years ago. Back when one unassuming night changed everything, right before Stiles left to train with another pack's emissary. The attraction between them had suddenly spiraled out of control and the two ended up tangled in each other on the couch in Derek’s loft. And again later, in his bed.

In the morning they both agreed it hadn’t been a good idea, what with Stiles becoming the pack emissary. Just a one time thing. A really good one time thing.

And he hadn’t really ever gotten over that night. Or the things Derek had said as Stiles fell apart underneath him. Part of him grew to love Derek even more while he was away. Getting stronger, more reliable, becoming a true protector for the pack. And when he returned to Beacon Hills, the excitement of seeing Derek again, of Derek seeing this version of him, might have morphed into some wishful thinking. That maybe he and Derek could be together, even with Stiles being his emissary. But when that loft door opened, it wasn’t Derek on the other side waiting for him. It was a woman, wearing one of Derek’s old tee shirts. Another alpha werewolf. And Derek’s future wife.

He couldn’t abandon his promise to become the Hale pack emissary. He’d been training for it since, well, the first time Deaton had handed him a bottle of mountain ash. Derek needed him. And he knew Derek better than anyone, he knew the packs in Beacon Hills and the history and the power the town’s nemeton held. It had to be him and no one else. Plus, Derek’s alpha spark was inside of him, twining their lives together. He was Derek's anchor. They were linked physically, emotionally, and supernaturally, despite the fact that Stiles was technically human.

Although Derek had once told him he didn’t think that was 100% accurate anymore. Whatever that meant.

”Give me the keys,” Stiles holds out his hand as their rental car comes into view. Derek was in no shape to drive. He needed rest to heal.

Derek shakes his head and points. Down the road, flickering on and off in the distance, are the neon lights of a motel sign.

“I’m not that tired,” Stiles shrugs. “I can drive back to Beacon Hills while you sleep.”

”I don’t want her to see this,” Derek holds up his injured arm. Black blood was leaking out of the gash.

Ew.

”He used wolfsbane on you? Dick move.”

That wasn’t usually how werewolves played. Wolfsbane was a hunter’s tool, not something an alpha carried. After all, if taken away, it could be used against him.

TUESDAY 9:38PM MST

“You’re getting good at this, Stiles.“

Derek is laying on the motel bed with his arm extended across Stiles’s thighs. A lamp is angled over his forearm where Stiles works. This was hardly a hospital, but Stiles was prepared as always. In the back of their car he’d stashed his supernatural care-kit. The Were-Kit TM, patent pending. Now he was stitching up the laceration on Derek’s forearm.

“Ouch—”

”Sorry,” Stiles’s hands freeze, needle half way into Derek’s skin.

”Don’t stop now,” Derek’s voice is gentle even with the hint of edge on it.

Stitching up a werewolf wasn’t usually necessary, but this was a medical-grade thread Deaton and him had developed a few years ago. It sped up the healing process for things like this, when wolfsbane-laced weapons poisoned the wound.

”You gonna tell her what happened?” Stiles gets back to it.

”Of course. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

”Mhm.”

”You think she’ll be mad?”

”Mhm.”

“I left him alive.”

”Mhm.”

”He attacked me first.”

”Mhm.”

”I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

Stiles’s hands stop moving again. He meets Derek’s gaze, dewy and delicate from where the man looks up at him from the bed. All traces of claws and fangs from earlier are gone, blood washed away and clean clothes covering his body.

“I had to stop him,” Derek clarifies. “Because if he took me down, he’d go after you next.”

”I know,” Stiles says. And he does. He affixes a thin bandage across the stitches. They’ll heal over in a few hours. “All done. You can have your arm back.”

Stiles sets the needle and sewing supplies aside and tries to stand, but the same arm he was just sewing up hooks around his waist instead. He’s dragged a little closer and Derek’s head ends up on his leg.

”I need to clean this up,” Stiles lifts his hands up to make room for the big alpha body moving in.

Then he sighs and lowers one onto Derek’s back. Right over where he knows the triscale tattoo sits. Sometimes it felt like a little power button. A visualization of their spark he could touch and see. The other hand hovers for a second, then slips into Derek’s damp hair.

It used to make him nervous, this private affection Derek gave him when they were alone. Would Kimi be mad if she knew? But he came to realize that Derek didn’t really hold back in front of the others either. He’d hug Stiles close, or drag him somewhere by the hand. No one seemed to really care, not even Kimi. She even hung over his arm from time to time or fell asleep against his shoulder while watching a movie. Maybe it was because Stiles was their emissary and the crux of the pack. He carried Derek’s spark, after all. Everyone would feel drawn to him for that fact alone.

But with Derek, like this, it always felt just a little too close to a line they couldn’t, and shouldn’t, cross. Especially as Derek hums against his thigh, squeezing his body closer. Stiles’s pulse starts thumping harder. Derek’s cheek is so close to the fly of his pants he can feel the warmth of it.

”Der—“

BUZZBUZZBUZZZZZ.

Stiles sends his gratitude up to the heavens as Derek has to abandon the pets momentarily to answer the call. Except instead of getting up he just stretches his whole chest over Stiles’s legs to grab his phone from the nightstand.

”Hello? Hey, Kimi.”

Stiles keeps his hands to himself now.

”Oh, the kids are still up? Right, different time zone. Yeah, I can say goodnight.”

Stiles somehow frees himself from under 200-plus pounds of werewolf and grabs his jacket on the way out of their motel room.

He escapes to the little patio, digging around in his pockets for… yes! He has one left. He lights up and takes a long drag. Every time Derek did this when they were alone, Stiles told himself it couldn’t continue. But the next time, he’d let it happen anyway.

Was it really so bad? The fact was they never really crossed the line. And Derek always initiated things. They hadn’t even kissed. But it always felt good, it always gave Stiles these brief moments of such joy being the sole focus of Derek’s eyes and hands. He knew Derek need him as an emissary, but being wanted by Derek as a man? It was a flicker of the same flame that flared between them all those years ago.

But it always ended, sometimes abruptly like tonight, sometimes because Stiles couldn’t take it anymore and had to pull away. The give and take of Derek’s affection lifted Stiles up so high, but the hard fall was like a punch to the gut.

Maybe he was as much the problem as Derek was. After all, he had stayed all those years ago, knowing Derek would be with Kimi, knowing once they married kids would be on the way, and knowing that if he wanted to do this emissary thing right, it would mean boxing up his feelings for Derek and putting the pack first. They deserved to have a real chance. The Hales hadn’t gotten one since the fire all those years ago. Derek deserved to have children, to rebuild his family’s legacy. Stiles couldn’t be the reason things went wrong this time.

”Hey.”

Stiles jumps at sound of Derek’s voice. He hadn’t heard the sliding door open.

”Hi. Kids okay?”

”Yeah. Eli wanted to talk to you but I told him he’d see you when we got back.”

Stiles smiles a little. “What do I owe him this time?”

“Dinosaur battle.”

”Joke’s on you, I like that game.”

“That’s why I suggested it. I can hear you two screeching from miles away. But don’t worry, your confession is safe with me.”

WEDNESDAY 2:28PM PST

When Derek and Stiles roll up to the Hale home in Beacon Hills, California, three tiny bodies come running out the front door. A fourth follows, slowly, behind the tall woman chasing them.

Derek climbs out of the car and crouches down, catching the bodies of Eli, Talley, and Erie as they crash into him. Lauren, the oldest, and Kimi arrive seconds later, Derek lifting the latter two up into his arms to stand and kiss Lauren on the top of her head, then Kimi on the lips. Lauren smiles up at her dad.

Eli has abandoned the reunion to trot around the front of the car to where Stiles closes the driver’s side door.

”Hey, Eli,” Stiles picks up the youngest Hale. The kid is practically vibrating with excitement.

“Dinosaaaaurs!”

“He just got home, Eli,” Kimi calls over. “Stiles can play with you after dinner, okay?”

Eli is climbing up Stiles’s shoulder, hanging over the top of his body and swinging his arms and legs.

”I wanna fly!” He cries out.

“It’s okay,” Stiles has his arm up, keeping Eli from tipping too far one way or the other.

”You’re too good with him,” Kimi smiles apologetically in Stiles’s direction. Derek is looking over as well.

Stiles offers a lopsided grin and a shrug. Then carefully lets go of Eli, hand hovering over the young werewolf's back where he balances on Stiles’s shoulder.

“I won’t be able to do this for much longer, Eli, you’re getting bigger by the minute.”

”No I’m not!”

”You’re three years old now. That’s sooooo old. Alright, let’s see if this still works on such an old man…”

Stiles concentrates. This was a trick that only worked with Derek’s spark and those he passed it on to. And it had to be something Stiles could easily lift. Stiles wiggles his hand in the air until he can feel the spark in Eli. Then he hooks his fingertips into the magic and tugs upwards, arm straining a bit with the weight.

Eli’s body slowly lifts up off Stiles’s shoulder, floating in the air under his hand. The boy squeals with delight, arms and legs flailing around like he’s swimming. Stiles turns so Eli can see his family.

“Look, I fly, I fly!” He calls out to them.

Stiles spots Kimi walking over out of the corner of his eye.

”Okay, that’s enough, Eli. Stiles is tired.”

Stiles slowly releases Eli into his mother’s waiting hands.

“Did you see me fly, Mommy?”

”I did, you were amazing. Make sure you thank Stiles too.”

“Thank yoooouuu.”

”Anytime, kiddo,” Stiles smiles.

Kimi brushes a wavy strand of dark hair away from Eli’s cheek.

”I swear he looks like you,” she says. “I don’t know how, maybe it’s the spark. This one could be a Stilinski.”

”Oh…” Stiles feels his cheeks flush with guilt.

Kimi laughs.

“It’s a compliment, honey. You fit right in with the born and bred Hales.”

Kimi takes Eli and the others back inside. Derek is pulling their bags out of the trunk. He sets Stiles’s down and locks the car. Their eyes meet briefly before the alpha turns to follow.

Stiles has to blink a few times before his body gets with the program. He plucks his bag from the ground and heads towards the small, modular home he’d gotten placed on the Hale property. He’d tried living in the main house but a few months of Kimi and Derek’s wedded bliss felt like knives to his ribs every time he saw them together. Hale offspring had started appearing almost immediately, giving Stiles a valid reason to move into his own space. He had to keep a supply of items like mountain ash and it just wasn’t safe for young were-toddlers to be around.

THURSDAY 1:18AM PST

“How old?” Stiles sits in a chair on the small porch that lined his house. His phone is balanced on his knee with one earbud in, and an unlit cigarette dangles from his lips. Scott had called right as he was about to light up, keeping him from his nicotine. Turns out the true alpha and Malia had found an orphaned beta down in Arizona.

”She’s only nineteen. It’s bad down here, Stiles. Hunters wiped everything out.”

”Any other survivors?”

“Maybe one or two. They split though. Even if they hadn’t, there’s no pack left.”

”Poor kid. Is she hurt?”

”Minor stuff, some road rash from when she escaped. She’ll be alright though.”

”When you coming back?”

”After the full moon. Malia thought it would be easier to travel once it’s over. We can handle her until then.”

Stiles hears the soft, steady footsteps of Derek’s bare feet on the porch.

”Alright well keep me posted,” he reaches for his phone.

”You’ll update Derek?”

”Yeah.”

”Night, man.”

”Night, Scott.”

Stiles hangs up as Derek leans against a porch post directly across from him, eyes heavy with sleep. The alpha slept shirtless, which was both a gift and curse to the eye of the beholder.

”Why aren’t you in bed?” Stiles pulls his earbud free and rolls it between his fingertips.

”Talley was up again. I think this full moon might be her first real change.”

”Isn’t she a little young for that?”

Derek shrugs. “Maybe. Erie just started in the spring, he was barely seven. Lauren was eight when she started.”

”Hard to believe Lauren's been doing this for almost two years now.”

”When you’re young, the moons seem to come one right after the other. Once your body gets better at separating the phases, they start to feel further apart again.”

Stiles looks out beyond where Derek stands. It was cloudy, but he knew the moon was up there, big and silent, waiting to bloom.

“What did Scott say?” Derek breaks the silence.

”He and Malia found a nineteen-year-old orphan. They’ll be here in a few days.”

”Just one?”

”Everyone else is dead or ran off.”

Derek’s lips turn down. A grief he knew too well. ”If she needs a place to stay, let him know we’ll take her in.”

”You trying to fill every room in that house with a werewolf?”

”Your old bedroom is available, isn’t it?”

”Ouch.”

”Sorry,” Derek’s voice softens. “I just, well. Liked having you close.”

”I’m not far. Almost within shouting distance.”

”I know.”

There’s something behind Derek’s eyes, but Stiles can’t bring himself to really look for it. He pulls out his lighter instead and focuses on connecting the little flame to the end of his cigarette. Because the last thing he wants to say is how it twists him up inside to be so close to Derek’s happily-ever-after and not be the other half of it.

”So what’s the plan for the full moon, then. I’ll watch Eli like normal. What about Talley? Do you want her with you and Kimi in case she transforms?”

”That’s probably a good idea. Erie is still struggling, but last month he did a lot better. Lauren is a natural. If Talley changes, we can handle it.”

”What about Peter and Cora?”

”Peter hasn’t called, he must be off somewhere doing God knows what. Cora is going to stay with Scott’s other betas. Isaac too.”

“That’s everyone, then.”

”Mhm.”

”You should go back to bed, Derek. You look exhausted.”

”Yeah,” Derek rubs his face, scratching at the stubble under his chin. “I know. And I am. I could probably curl up right here on your doormat and pass out.”

”If you’re going to do that, turn wolf or the neighbors might think Kimi kicked you out.”

A little huff of air signals Derek’s amusement at the thought. They didn’t even have neighbors out here, but the joke still worked.

Stiles gets up and extinguishes his cigarette. He reaches over and pats the top of Derek’s head like a puppy as he passes on the way back inside.