Archive of Our Own ^beta

Deaton nodded, after hearing their tale about how Derek's pack managed to get in a battle with the faerie, "My only advice is that it sounds like you need Stiles."

"What the hell is a stiles?" Derek asked, shifting the weight on his feet, "And how will that help us against the fae?"

Deaton walked into the next room, giving no indication for Derek to follow, but Derek was used to Deaton and trailed after him. "Stiles is one of a kind." Deaton said, looking through his books, "Very old, very powerful, very knowledgeable."

"And this Stiles would help us?" Derek tilted his head. "Why?"

"All you have to do is ask him nicely." Deaton said. His voice went thoughtful as he continued, "He's lonely." He turned around then and handed him a book, "His number is in here."

"His number?" Derek's brow furrowed.

"Phone number." Deaton said with a small smile, "Stiles gave this book to me for my last birthday."

Derek opened up the cover on the first page. In a messy scrawl it read:

Happy anniversary of your appearance

Dude, I like totally have what is called a cellular phone now and it's like apps and shit, how cool is that? You should text me. That's what the kids are calling it right? Text? You should do that and tell me all about sticking your hand up animal butts.

This book is something I've had for a while and just thought you might like it. Sorry I didn't get you that awesome new thing that burns bread for your birthday. (Sorry I broke your burning bread thingy btw.)

As my hero says - TTFN Ta Ta For Now!

Stiles

"Tigger is his hero?" Derek asked, seeing the number written at the bottom of the page.

"It appears so." Deaton's smile could be heard. "Give him a call, Derek. He'll help."

Derek sighed and programed the number into his phone before leaving Deaton's office. Getting into his car, he wondered if he really needed Stiles' help. He didn't have to take Deaton's advice. Because that's all it was: advice. But he needed help. Not many were known to take on the fae and win. If this 'Stiles' could help even a little bit, it could save the lives of his pack.

Swearing, he pulled over and called Stiles.

"Yo." A voice greeted.

"Is this Stiles?" Derek asked gruffly.

"Sure is." Stiles said, "And who might this be?"

"Derek Hale. I got your number from Deaton-"

"Deaton is my main man." Stiles interrupted, "Isn't he rockin'? He's so rockin'."

"Yeah," Derek agreed dryly. "Rockin'."

"So what can I help you with, Derek Hale?" Stiles purred.

Derek let out an involuntary shiver, "Deaton thought you might be able to help me with an issue."

"You bet your sweet ass I can. I mean, I'm not a hundred percent certain on if I can help, let alone if your ass is sweet, but I can probably help and you have a nice voice." Stiles said. Before Derek could say anything else, Stiles plowed on, "So I'm guessing you're in Beacon Hills?"

"Yea-"

"Awesome. Love that place. All hilly and beacony." Stiles said, "So you want to meet up somewhere? We can go public if you want, or if it's a matter where you can't discuss your problem around the prying eyes of nosey townies there is your place." He let out a thoughtful hum, "But not everyone is comfortable with bringing strangers home when it's not about sex, or so I'm told, we could also meet up at Deaton's. Up to you Derek Hale."

Derek said the address to the burnt out Hale house and they decided a time when they could meet before hanging up.

A meeting with this Stiles wouldn't hurt, Derek thought. Then he'd decide if Stiles would actually be able to help or not.

I

Stiles was late.

Crossing his arms, Derek leaned against his car and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. Of course he would be late.

"You can't fault me," a voice cut into his thoughts, opening his eyes, Derek saw a person walking up the road, "because how the hell was I supposed to find this house it's so secluded. Derek Hale, I had to ask for directions from so many townies and only this nice man with a badge that said sheriff could point me in the right direction. Then he had to ask why I needed to know and I said I was making a documentary and left it at that because it's amazing what people let you do when you say that."

Derek looked Stiles up and down. He looked young. Eighteen at the most. His hair was messy, and eyes bright. He wore simple jeans and a plaid shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, and no shoes. The interesting thing was that there was something written on his skin. In fine print it covered his arms and went down to taper off at his fingertips, it covered his feet and looked like it was even on the bottom of them. The writing crawled up his neck and a few words were on his face.

The writing was a different language.

"You do have a sweet ass." Stiles grinned, walking up to him.

"You walked here?" Derek ignored the comment about his ass.

"I do have a jeep, but I'm not the best driver," he scratched absently at his cheek, "so I thought I would leave her at home."

"Is home near here?" Derek hoped so, if Stiles had walked all the way and without shoes-

Stiles laughed, "No. Home is Chicago. Best god damn pizza. Moved there just for the food."

"You walked from Chicago?!" Derek frowned.

Stiles raised his eyebrows, "Took a train?" He sounded hesitant.

Derek muttered something to himself.

"Derek Hale, why have we met at a giant burnt home of something that has been on fire?" Stiles was staring at the house, his eyes losing focus before he gasped, "Why have we met where so many have lost their lives?"

Derek narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"Twelve innocent, two not so much." Stiles' voice had an edge to it. "The two most recent ones are the ones who have killed previously."

"How the hell do you know that." Derek said, eyes glowing red and staring Stiles down. He looked at the stranger and saw that his eyes had a purple tint to them.

Shaking his head, Stiles' eyes turned back to their usual brown, "What is the issue you need my help with? It doesn't deal with this house does it? Either way, never coming here again would be a good plan."

"Why should never coming here be a good plan?" Derek bit out.

"Some places are born bad and some become bad." Stiles said, "This one has become it. Derek Hale, there are a lot of things out there, and they will be drawn to this house, or land, should the house disappear. They won't know why they feel the urge to come, but they will."

Derek glanced at his house that had burnt and believed it. Maybe it was to blame for the Fae. "Faeries." Derek said.

Stiles said something in another language that Derek could tell by the tone was name calling. "You have a fae infestation? The motherfuckers. Mother. Fuckers." Stiles said. "Dirty things who can't keep their hands to themselves. And do they wash after they do their sexual business, you bet not. Then they touch you-" his body shivered. "No thank you. Nasty things."

"Yeah." Derek agreed, not wanting to hear more of the subject from Stiles, "Can you help us?"

"Derek Hale," Stiles said, locking eyes with him, "it would be a pleasure." He bowed.

Derek absently wondered if he should bow back.

"Do I need to rent a home away from home or will I be staying with you?" Stiles asked after some silence between them. Scratching his nose he said, "Because this may take a while."

Derek frowned, he hadn't thought about that, but then he hadn't been sure if the meeting with Stiles would become a partnership. But when Stiles had been able to look at the house and know the history, Derek knew that Stiles would be at least a little bit of help. "You can stay with me. I have a house in town for my pack."

Stiles grinned, "Do they all live there?"

"No. Most are in high school yet." Derek answered, "My uncle lives with me, as well as one of my betas. But we have guest rooms for the others and one of them should be willing to let you use theirs."

Stiles' grin softened, "That is very kind. I'm aware as to how important bedrooms are to werewolves." Clapping his hands, his face became bright again, "How about we get started on this and sit down somewhere nice where you can tell me what all has happened." He paused, "Also at some point I want to give Deaton a surprise hug."

Derek frowned, "He knows you're in town."

"Ah, but he doesn't know when this hug will take place." Stiles shook his finger at Derek. "Let's take your car."

"Well we can't take your jeep." Derek added dryly, "It's in Chicago."

Stiles laughed, "I tell you, the pizza is to die for."

II

"These are some nice digs." Stiles said as they pulled up to Derek's house.

"'Digs'?" Derek repeated.

"Is that not a term?" Stiles' frowned thoughtfully. "I thought it was a term."

Derek narrowed his eyes, trying to figure Stiles out. After a few seconds he gave up, "Let's just go inside."

As soon as they entered the house, Peter was beside them, "Hi."

Derek turned to give introductions when he saw the purple tint to Stiles' eyes was back.

"But you died that night." Stiles' didn't flinch at Peter's growl, "Ah, I see. You came back. How unique. Not many werewolves can do that." He turned back to Derek, "Peter is glad you didn't cut him in half when you buried him."

Derek watched as Stiles then made a thoughtful noise and walked into the next room leaving dirt foot prints in his wake.

"What the hell was that?" Peter asked, glaring at the doorway Stiles' exited from.

"That was Stiles." Derek answered, "He did that at the house."

"What is he?" Peter demanded. "And why did you bring him here?"

"He's helping us with the faerie problem. I told you." Derek rolled his eyes, "Or weren't you listening to your alpha?" Pausing, he continued, "It was either bring him here to stay or he'd get a 'home away from home'. Whatever that is."

"Maybe it's an abandoned train station?" Peter said lightly.

"Ha ha. You're hilarious." Derek responded dryly.

Stiles' voice reached them, excitedly he said, "You have a hearth!" His head came through the doorway, "Wasn't sure if you would due to the previous house. I would call it the sad house but there were many happy memories of it there and it's not a sad house." His head disappeared then.

Derek turned to look at Peter who looked very confused, "Is he real? He can't be real."

"As far as I can tell he is." Derek said, going into the living room.

Stiles was sitting on the sofa waiting for them, turning a lamp on and off. "Stiles?" Derek said, sitting next to him. "This is my uncle Peter."

"Yeah, I know." Stiles said, "Good uncle, fire, coma, killer, dead, alive and well again. I got it, dude."

"How do you know that?" Peter asked.

Stiles looked up from the lamp, "I read you. It's a thing. Easier when people want to broadcast their past and want to be read and understood."

"I don't broadcast." Peter frowned.

"Totally do, man. Sorry to say. Otherwise I wouldn't have read you. I don't make it a habit of reading people who don't want it." Stiles shrugged, "You want to be understood. I get it, I really do. Anyway, to business? Fae problem. Go."

"We don't know why they're here." Derek started, "But I felt it as soon as they showed up, and we went to investigate." He paused, clearly having trouble asking for help, "As soon as they saw us they let out an ear bleeding yell-"

"Literally." Peter added, "They made our ears bleed."

Stiles nodded, "Well yeah, I mean the fae are not known to be kind to werewolves."

"They aren't?" Derek asked.

"No." Stiles drew out the word. "Um. Yeah, they kind of are not friendly at all with werewolves on principle? Like, everyone hears about how they are not at all friendly to humans, but they dislike werewolves much more."

"Why?" Peter questioned, "I haven't heard about this."

"And I can tell that you like to be the one who knows everything." Stiles said, "But the faerie tend to stay Under the Hill nowadays so the idea of them not being at all friendly with werewolves has been forgotten."

"So why are they here?" Derek asked, wanting to get to the point.

"No, why do they hate werewolves?" Peter said forcefully.

Stiles sighed, "They are here because they've been called here. I told you about that house, man. It's like your own personal hellmouth."

"This isn't Sunnydale." Derek said.

"No, but it is California." Stiles then turned to Peter, his voice became soothing, ready to tell a story and Derek felt himself drawn in before Stiles even started speaking, "Long ago, before even I was around, which is a long time by the way, the fae had pets that were giant, magical wolves. As anyone can imagine, they weren't great owners, but the wolves were smart and got tired of being treated the way they were and they rebelled. A battle and a war and yada, yada, yada.

"But the wolves managed to get away and they knew that as long as they were Under the Hill the fae wouldn't stop hunting them until they all died and the fae would burn their pelts. So they escaped to the land of man and the wolves learned how to look like man. As I had said, they were smart, and they knew that they would have to blend in, not just to live happily, but should the faerie ever come after them. And thus werewolves are born."

"Is that true?" Peter asked, "Or just a myth?"

"It's true as burnt bread." Stiles answered.

"You seem to know a lot about them." Derek said thoughtfully, "And Deaton was sure that you'd be able to help against the fae."

"I've had my run ins with them." Stiles said, "Dirty mother fuckers."

"Yeah, I got that." Derek said, thinking back to when he first mentioned them to Stiles.

The front door opened and a handful of teens entered, talking away, not noticing a stranger in their home. Stiles was watching them with a small smile on his face.

"I love seeing a happy pack." He said, which caused the betas to freeze and turn to him. "'Sup?"

"Who are you?" Erica said, "Who is he? Why is he in my spot?"

"This is Stiles," Derek said, "he's here to help."

"We don't need help." Jackson said, "We defeated Peter, and the kanima, and the alpha pack. We can handle this on our own."

"You were the kanima." Scott pointed out.

"Yeah, and now I'm not." Jackson scoffed.

"Excuse me," Lydia said eyeing Stiles sharply, "Why did you tattoo archaic latin on yourself?"

Stiles' eyebrows rose, "You recognize archaic latin?"

"I got bored with regular latin." Lydia shrugged.

"I think I love you." Stiles answered. When Jackson growled at him, he held up his hands, "Hey, don't be jelly, I'm not going to do anything."

Derek started introductions then, "This is Scott, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Jackson, and Lydia. Lydia is human."

"Immune." She smiled.

"Nice trait to have." Stiles nodded.

"He's here to help with the fae?" Isaac asked.

"Deaton recommended him." Derek nodded. "And Stiles says he's dealt with them before."

"And he's still here and not dead." Lydia gave an approving nod.

"I have skillz." Stiles nodded sagely. "Also, I'm hungry. I didn't eat on the train."

The pack started talking about how lunch at school was extra horrible and why don't they order some pizza? And Chinese? And maybe get some subs? It didn't take long for the house to smell like a mesh of food and everyone in the dining room talking loudly and laughing.

Stiles watched them interact with a smile. "You're all so alive." Stiles whispered to Derek. "It's wonderful."

Derek grinned at his pack, "We've come a long way." He looked down at Stiles' plate that was piled with food. "You said you haven't ate since Chicago?"

Stiles nodded, some lo mein noodles hanging out of his mouth, "Yeah. Train food isn't really up to par. This is though." Stiles pointed at his food with his fork as he swallowed.

"But that's around two days of riding a train." Derek said, thinking it out, "You haven't ate in two days?"

"Well," Stiles shrugged, shoveling more food into his mouth, "I probably don't even need food, but it's so good. Also I have found that since I've been," he paused, thinking of the right word, "less portable, I get cravings for food."

"Less portable." Derek echoed.

Stiles dropped his fork and held his hands out, they were about six inches apart, "Yes. Less portable." He stared at the space between his hands before clapping them once and picking his fork back up.

"Ugh," Scott said, "We're learning about the Revolutionary War in school and it's so confusing."

Stiles scoffed, "The history books have that all wrong anyway. Ooh, pass the pizza?" Holding out his hand, he waited for someone to hand him a slice but was only greeted with silence.

"Are you suggesting that you were alive for that?" Boyd asked.

"Yes. Now, pizza?" Stiles opened and closed his hand a few times. "Please?"

"Hold up," Lydia said, "you are hundreds of years old, have archaic latin tattoos and have defeated faerie before?"

"Yeah, so pizza?" Stiles asked, voice twisting. "Please."

"Are you serious?" Erica snapped.

"Yes." Stiles' whined, "I'm serious about wanting the pizza, I don't know why you wouldn't believe me about that. It's not hard to understand is it? I mean, with cheese alone pizza is pretty amazing but this one has pepperoni, dude."

"Is he real?" Isaac asked the table at large.

"That's what I asked." Peter said as he gave into his pity for Stiles who was weakly trying to reach the pizza and handed him the pizza.

"Score! Pizza." Stiles smiled, grabbing a piece and adding it to his plate of noodles.

Derek cleared his throat, "Stiles will be staying here until we have this mess cleaned up, are any of you willing to let him stay in your room?"

Scott shrugged, "Sure, he can crash in mine. If needed, I can sleep in Isaac's room."

"Well if you ever needed to stay the night here, you can have your room." Stiles said.

"Don't bother." Erica smirked, "Usually when Scott stays here he's sleeping in Isaac's room anyway."

"Wow, Isaac must have a comfortable bed." Stiles said, shoving pizza in his mouth.

Isaac choked on his drink as Jackson let out a loud laugh.

Lydia snorted, "They grew up as best friends but after Peter bit Scott he could smell Isaac's arousal." She studied Stiles over her glass, "And he thought it would be better to try and date his best friend than to try and date the daughter of a hunter."

"That is a good idea." Stiles said, "Not that dating the girl would have ended up poorly-"

"It would have." Derek growled.

Stiles shrugged, "Thank you Scott, for allowing me to spend time in your room. Even if you hardly ever do."

"Uh, no problem?" Scott replied. "It's not a big deal, dude. You seem pretty awesome." He held his fist out and Stiles gladly tapped it with his own fist.

Lydia gave him a critical look with a raised eyebrow, "You do seem decent. You said you've defeated fae. So this should be easy for you?"

"Eh," Stiles made a face, "It's different every time. But always has been easier than defeating a dragon, whatever you do, do not invite one into our realm. It isn't fun. Especially when you're flammable."

"A dragon?" Erica grinned.

"They are lots of work, I'll tell you. Fae are too, and there are some easy steps to take at first that will make them weaker."

"Like what?" Derek asked, leaning back in his chair and pushing his plate away.

"They don't like rowan, but neither do werewolves so that's out. But iron is good, and if you throw some salt or sugar down they have to count it, wearing clothes inside out, running water, the sound of bells. And then Newfoundland figured out that they don't like bread so we can bake a lot of bread."

"You can't be serious." Erica sneered, "You expect us to believe that these faeries who murder so easily and are powerful are afraid of clothes turned inside out and bread?"

Stiles gave her a sharp look, "And you expect me to believe that werewolves who are fast and strong and have claws and teeth can be stopped by some rowan ash?"

Derek snorted in amusement. "If we're done eating you all get to clean up." He pointed at his betas. "Including you." Derek added a pointed look at Peter who held his hands up in self defence.

Derek looked at Stiles and then nodded his head towards the living room before getting up and assuming that he was being followed. "Bread?"

"Yeah." Stiles nodded, "Any kind of bread really, but newly baked bread smells very good. Plus the smell warns them that we aren't giving up without a fight." He paused, "Do you know what type of fae they are?"

"Peter said he thought they were from the Unseelie Court." Derek answered.

Stiles nodded, "Most of my run-ins have been with mother fuckers of the Unseelie Court."

"We can go to the store later and buy some ingredients for bread." Derek said.

"We can also buy some salt and sugar, what is good are those little paper gatherings of salt and sugar because they can be kept in your pocket and you can pull it out. And then get some iron from somewhere." Stiles said, hands moving about as he talked.

"Are there any for sure ways to get rid of them?" Derek asked. "So that we don't have to go around with our clothes inside out to keep them away while we prepare?"

"Sorry." Stiles shrugged, "Using iron will hurt them, and you can damage them enough that they'll succumb to their wounds. But I'm afraid that is the best way to defeat them. Other than using a dragon to burn them and really, it's easier to just deal with them without the dragon."

"So I gathered." Derek said dryly. He looked down at Stiles' feet, "Will you need to borrow some shoes?"

"What for?" Stiles raised his eyebrows, clearly confused.

"For when we go to the store." Derek answered.

Scoffing, Stiles said, "Derek Hale, you would be surprised how many places you can go to without shoes."

III

Derek had been surprised that no one said anything about Stiles' bare feet when he and Stiles' entered the grocery store. He did have to remind himself that it was around midnight and there weren't many people in the store, but those who were tended to look at the latin written on Stiles' skin but not comment on the lack of shoes. One guy had made a noise of puzzlement when he had lowered his eyes and saw that the writing covered the feet as well.

"Derek Hale, does this canned liquid actually give people wings?" Stiles held up a can of Red Bull, voice scattering Derek's thoughts, "Surely I would have heard about that."

"No, it's an energy drink." Derek grabbed a box of sugar packets. Two thousand packets of sugar should work.

"Then why do they claim it gives you wings? False advertising!" Stiles yelled in the middle of the aisle.

Derek groaned, "Stiles, it's midnight. Please don't yell."

"People are not sleeping in your twenty four hour local grocery store, Derek Hale. I don't understand why I shouldn't yell." Stiles rolled his eyes and added a case of Red Bull to the cart.

"We're here for sugar and bread ingredients." Derek frowned at the Red Bull.

"I want to see if it gives me wings." Stiles pouted.

"I already told you it doesn't." Derek sighed.

"You said it doesn't give you guys wings. As I'm not human and a very unique individual it may give me wings. I wish to try." Stiles started, "Not that I particularly want wings. I believe they would get in the way."

"Maybe I could get rid of the fae without your help." Derek said under his breath.

"I heard that!" Stiles yelled from the next aisle over.

"Of course you did." Derek shook his head, grabbing some ingredients for bread. He turned around and found himself face to chest with a fae.

It was tall, easily seven feet in height with skin so pale he could see the veins. Derek could feel an unease in the air, as if the world knew that the faerie shouldn't be there, and should be in it's realm. It's hand reached up and caressed Derek's head, cradling in it with long fingers lightly touching his skin.

"Mother fucker." Stiles' voice cut some of the tension in the air.

The fae gave a grin that was too wide for it's face, "Stiles. How wonderful." It's voice was a mixture of three. It sounded as if it was a child, an adult, and an elder speaking at once. "It's always a pleasure to see you."

"Never a pleasure to see you, Kellen. When was our last meeting? Miami right?" Stiles' sounded at ease as he walked to stand beside Derek at the cart.

Kellen's smile widened, something that hadn't seemed possible, "I do remember it well. You were stubborn then. Will you continue to be stubborn?"

"Always." Stiles said, "Oh, do you know about Red Bull?" He asked, digging into the cart.

"Why are you asking him about Red Bull?" Derek asked, not wanting to move, head still cradled in Kellen's hand.

"They say it gives you wings, but I've been told that it actually doesn't." Stiles ignored Derek. "Ah, here it is." He stood up quickly and ripped open a sugar packet on the floor.

Kellen's smile was gone and he frowned, "How childish." Letting go of Derek, he bent down and started counting.

"It works?" Derek was surprised, taking some steps back. "They have to count it?"

"Of course it works." Stiles rolled his eyes as he grabbed Derek's arm and the cart, "Now we must leave before Kellen is done counting. We pay for this stuff, yes?"

"Yes." Derek nodded.

After they paid, Stiles walked passed the aisle that Kellen was in and waved to him.

In the car Derek kept stealing glances at Stiles, "What did he mean about you being stubborn?"

"Oh, nothing much." Stiles said, opening a can of Red Bull. "As stubborn as I always have happened to be."

"Okay, stubborn about what?" Derek glanced at the time, fifteen passed midnight. "And it's a bit late to drink an energy drink."

"They want to collect me. I keep telling them no. Stubborn." Stiles explained, "And I knew it was midnight, the fae are still coming through and they aren't as powerful as they like. So someone as high up as Kellen wouldn't make an appearance unless it was midnight or three in the morning."

"Why those times?" Derek pulled into his driveway.

When Stiles spoke again, his voice had that quality to it that made Derek pay extra attention, "Those are the times when the fabric between worlds is the thinnest. Three am more than midnight. So they would have more power coming through and Kellen knew that. Remember that when your ancestors escaped from them that many of the fae died. They will be cautious around you until they find out how powerful you actually are."

"So they're afraid of us." Derek added thoughtfully.

"Eh," Stiles held his hand up flat and then tilted it from side to side, "So-so." Putting his hand down he elaborated, voice still entrancing. "They believe they can defeat you guys no problem, but they do remember all the pain your ancestors caused them. The thing is, they also know that, honestly, werewolves are not as powerful as they once had been. Also that you guys have forgotten about the pain they had brought you which is the big reason why they had rebelled in the first place. So your want of destroying the mother fuckers is less and you won't fight as hard."

"I will fight harder than them." Derek growled, "This is my home and they are not taking it from me."

"Yes!" Stiles raised his can of Red Bull, "That's what we need. Conviction!"

Once they arrived at Derek's, they put away the food and then went separate ways to sleep. Derek thought about Stiles and if he would be any help. True, one of the tricks he said had already helped with the fae in the store. Derek wouldn't have been able to get out of that situation without harm if it wasn't for Stiles. Idly, he wondered if the fae would change their plans now that they knew Stiles was around. Would they up their attacks or be more cautious?

IV

Derek woke to the smell of breakfast. Which was strange. The members of the pack that lived with him tended to just eat cereal or toast for breakfast, not being morning people. Derek was a morning person, but he usually wouldn't fix them food. Yawning as he came down the stairs he wondered if Peter had decided to make actual food since Stiles was over. Peter probably decided very quickly that he'd rather have Stiles on his side than against it and would want to be in Stiles' good graces.

The first hint that it wasn't Peter who cooked was an empty Red Bull can sitting on a side table.

The second hint was that the living room had clearly been swept and dusted and the small trash can had been emptied.

Turning the corner, Derek saw the table set up with breakfast foods on plates everywhere and Stiles in a chair asleep with his face in some pancakes. Syrup was in his hair.

Giving the kitchen another once over, Derek saw beyond the breakfast foods and the dishes that were drying. He saw Red Bull cans. Stiles had managed to drink the whole pack of Red Bull in just a few hours.

Jesus.

Stiles made a noise in the back of his throat before letting out a sleepy, "No, don't break my spine." Followed by a loud snore.

Sounded like that wouldn't be a good dream, but Stiles didn't look distressed. Derek started to build himself a plate of food while he wondered if Stiles had ever had his spine broken. He'd clearly lived a long time and had apparently fought a dragon before so it seemed entirely possible.

After Derek had his plate fixed Peter and Isaac ended up finding themselves in the kitchen. He watched amused as Isaac clearly fixed his plate by smell as he hadn't even opened his eyes yet and was still mostly asleep. Peter stared at Stiles as if he wasn't real.

"Is he real?" Peter asked again.

"He drank a whole pack of Red Bull." Derek answered, "And then crashed hard."

The oven's timer went off and Derek was surprised that he hadn't realized something was baking. Stiles' head popped up and he let out a noise of distress before getting up and grabbing an oven mitt and taking out some homemade bread. Yawning, he scratched the side of his face with the mitt and then when he lowered his hand the mitt was stuck to his face and Stiles didn't seem to notice, his hand just slipped out and fell to his side.

"Morning." Derek said, fighting a smile at the image before him.

"Derek Hale." Stiles said, flopping down in the chair beside him, oven mitt not moving, "I don't have wings. The packaging lied to me."

"Did you want wings?" Derek asked after taking a bite of his food.

"Not really." Stiles mumbled, laying his head down on the table, using the mitt as a pillow, "If I want wings, I'll get wings. Don't need no liquid in a can to give them to me. What was in those anyway? It was a rough night."

"You cleaned the house." Derek nodded.

"I would've loudly sucked up dust into a bag but werewolves." Stiles sighed.

"You drank a whole case of Red Bull to see if it'd give you wings?" Peter asked, staring at him.

"I was doing science." Stiles protested.

Isaac groaned, "I have a chemistry test today."

"That's Harris, right?" Derek asked.

"Harris sounds like a dick." Stiles said. "Just the name suggests to me someone who is a dick."

Isaac nodded, "He is. He is a dick."

"I'd say I feel your pain," Stiles started, "but I've never been to school and had to deal with a dick teacher. But I did have my formative years with a guy who was a dick."

"Oh?" Peter asked.

"Yeah. Not the guy who made me, but the guy who bought and kept me. He was awful. Always had messy hands when he touched me." Stiles said, sitting up and taking the oven mitt off his face. "I have syrup in my hair, don't I?"

"I wasn't going to mention it." Derek smirked.

Standing up, Stiles spoke to all the people, "If any of you leave the house, please at least bring some of the paper gatherings of sugar. If you are approached by one of the mother fuckers, rip it open in front of them and run. Best to like, run back here? Somewhere where bread is being made? It deters them so." He shrugged and walked away muttering about a shower.

V

A few days passed and no one saw any sign of the faerie. Instead they practiced fighting and if the pack was at school, Stiles and Derek talked. The conversations would start with ways to defeat the faeries, but then tended to turn personal. And Derek was finding out that he enjoyed Stiles. He was happier than he had been for a while with Stiles.

"Maybe they left?" Scott suggested one day after school, "You said you saw one of them at the store? Maybe the saw Stiles and ran scared."

"They aren't afraid of me." Stiles said, "Sure, I've had a lot of fights with them and technically won but they wouldn't run if they saw me." He shrugged. "Wish it were so."

"So where are they?" Erica asked. "I have other things to do than wait around for them to show up."

Stiles sighed, "Our time means nothing to them. Not only are they immortal but time in their world goes slower."

"So why don't they just wait us out?" Scott asked, "I would. I'd just wait at home."

"Somehow I'm not surprised that you'd take the cowards way out." Jackson sneered.

"They don't have much to live for anymore." Stiles ignored Jackson. "Not many things give them pleasure. Fae are rather jaded creatures. But one thing they like is battle. An actual threat of death and the joy of victory. Besides that, you lot shouldn't be itching to fight them."

Scott nodded and stood up, "Alright, I got to go to work before Deaton decides to fire me."

"You work for Deaton?" Stiles asked, perking up, "He's my main man."

"Oh yeah, he is the one who suggest Derek call you for help." Scott said thoughtfully.

"He's my bro." Stiles nodded, "Derek Hale is also my bro. Derek Hale and I are at bro-status now."

Derek looked up from his book, "I wasn't aware of that."

"You are now, bro." Stiles responded with a grin.

"Weren't you going to give him a hug?" Derek glanced at Stiles, "Why don't you follow Scott and give your bro a hug. And you two could discuss some ideas on how to keep the fae away."

"Great idea!" Stiles yelled, standing up quickly, his chair toppling backwards. He ran up to Derek and wrapped his arms around Derek, "Giving my bro a hug!" He laughed and then ran out of the house, Scott following behind him.

Derek stared down at himself, surprised that he ended up getting a hug. Turned out Stiles could give people surprise hugs without a problem.

As much as Derek found himself enjoying Stiles, he was glad to have him gone for even an hour. A little time to himself was good. He could actually put some thought into how he felt about Stiles without having him there distracting Derek. Besides all that, Stiles had mentioned before about talking to Deaton about the situation.

He wasn't sure what Stiles was. It was clear he wasn't human, but he'd never heard of anyone like him before. And Derek thought that asking outright would be rude. Even though it seemed hard to make Stiles angry, he didn't want to risk ticking the guy off and having him go back to Chicago.

Afterall, Stiles was the only one not out of his depth with the faerie.

VI

Derek slipped in the grass. Glancing down he saw that it was gold. Grinning to himself, he was pleased to see that it wasn't slick with red. He'd been surprised to find out that faerie blood was gold. It certainly made the meadow they were fighting in an interesting array of gold and red.

"Don't smile so." One of the fae said, her voice a blend of three, just as Kellen's had been. "Just because we bleed doesn't mean you can stop us."

"Actually," Derek let his grin widen, "it means we can kill you."

She let out a laugh, "You are bleeding as well. This field is covered in red and black."

Black?

Derek looked around and did see some black liquid mixed in the grass as well. Did that mean that one of the fae poisoned a member of his pack? Where their bodies fighting itself?

Giving a quick look around the area, he saw that his pack seemed fine enough. They had some blood drying on them, but most of their injuries were healed already.

Stiles on the other hand-

The faerie smirked, "Your helper has taken some hits. Look at all that black he has left on the field. When he gets weaker we will take him. He is ours." She let out a laugh.

"Stiles is ours!" Derek roared and lashed out at the faeirie.

His claws hit her flesh and dug in, ripping it away. She wasn't going to take Stiles with her. The mother fuckers weren't going to do anything with Stiles. He didn't care if he died making sure they kept their hands off him.

She yelped in pain before her long arms circled around him. Her grip was stronger than he expected, stronger than his. Pushing and clawing against her, she hissed and pressed harder. Spots danced before him and idly wondered who would become the alpha after him. Peter? Scott? Isaac?

"Get off him!" Stiles' voice cut out the white noise that had been building in Derek's ears. A knife flew in front of Derek's face and landed in the fae's temple. She turned it and glared.

Letting go of Derek, she reached up and pulled the knife out of her head. Gold ran down her neck. "Stiles, how lovely to see you."

"I'd say the same, Orrla, but we know that's not true." Derek blinked up at Stiles. His clothes were covered in black and he was breathing hard. A cut on his brow bled slowly, black blood dripping off his chin. "Now keep your dirty hands off him."

Orrla, apparently that was her name, glared at the knife in her hands. "What is this blade made from? I'm not healing."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "You aren't seriously asking that."

"You stabbed me in the brain." She glared and threw the knife back at Stiles too quick for him to dodge.

Stiles stumbled back when it hit him in the shoulder. "And it goes to show how much you use it, I mean, you're still around and being an unpleasant mother fucker."

Orrla looked over the meadow, "I think we know how well your pack fights." Her eyes landed on Stiles. "We will see you again." She collected the other faeries with her eyes before they disappeared.

Derek pushed himself to his feet and stumbled over to Stiles who was swaying.

"What just happened?" Erica asked, walking over to them.

"They were testing the waters." Stiles said, pulling his knife out of his shoulder. "Seeing how much damage we could do against them."

"And?" Erica crossed her arms.

Stiles looked over the field, "We did pretty good. They don't usually get wounded."

Derek checked on his pack, and they had been injured during the fight but were healed by the end of it. Stiles did not heal as quickly as werewolves though. Derek helped him walk back to the town.

"You hit her in the temple." Derek said.

Stiles started to laugh then held his ribs, "Oh God, Derek Hale. Don't say anything funny." He smiled, "Yes, I did hit her in the temple."

"How fast do you heal?" Derek asked, getting him in the car.

"Slower than you, faster than humans." Stiles said, "Midday tomorrow I'll be much better and in two days time I should be healed completely."

Derek nodded. "So first aid kit, not hospital."

"Right." Stiles nodded. "We did good, Derek Hale. No worries, man."

"What do you mean we did good?" Derek asked, fists tightening on the steering wheel. "Did you see how much damage they did to us? To you?"

"Derek Hale," Stiles started, "you need to recognize. I am honestly surprised that no one died in the encounter. It is awesome that we're all still alive and none of us are very injured."

"Stiles, you're bleeding black stuff all over my car." Derek growled.

"Ink." Stiles replied, "I bleed ink."

"You what?" Derek glanced at him.

"I bleed ink?" Stiles said slowly, clearly pronouncing the words.

"Right." Derek shook his head slightly. "Of course you do." He let out a loud sigh, "Knives huh?"

"Yep. They are my WOC." Stiles nodded.

"WOC?" Derek glanced over.

"Weapon of Choice." Stiles shrugged, "I've been around for a long time, Derek Hale, I know how to use a lot of weapons. I like knives the best. Good to handle, easy to throw, I can place a lot of them about my person and no one knows."

"A lot of them about your person?" Derek echoed. "How many?"

"Well, I usually have like ten of them hidden about me at any given time." Stiles answered.

"Really?" Derek hadn't noticed Stiles' clothes bulking out in places where the knives could be. Then again, he did tend to wear layers.

"Hey, you can fit a lot in like, thigh straps for knives." Stiles defended.

VII

Derek entered the kitchen to see Scott and Isaac talking. They must had woken up early since Isaac was able to have a conversation. Derek idly wondered if they finally managed to have morning sex so quiet that it wouldn't wake the house.

"Ink, dude. I swear." Scott held up his hands.

"He bleeds ink?" Isaac gaped. "Like, who even does that?"

"He does." Scott shrugged, chewing on some toast.

"What is he? Any idea?" Isaac asked.

Scott looked thoughtful and Derek found himself turning to watch, to see what theory Scott had. "Weresquid?"

Isaac's face scrunched up, "Weresquid? Then why haven't we seen him as a giant squid? Like, just floating in the bathtub or something?"

Scott raised an eyebrow, "Do you turn into an actual wolf? Also wouldn't he need salt water? Not fresh? It totally explains the ink though. They have ink, right?"

Isaac nodded slowly, clearly thinking. "Yes they do. Okay then, how does that explain his whole having been alive for so long?"

"Do you know how long squids live? Because I think it's a long time, dude." Scott answered. "Duh."

Derek smirked into his coffee. He doubted that Stiles was a weresquid, but he was surprised that Scott actually had some evidence pointing to it. Stupid, unrealistic evidence; but evidence.

Just then Stiles came bursting into the kitchen, bandages showing the black ink coming through and a big smile on his face. His hands were also covered in blood. "I killed us some squirrels for breakfast."

"What?" Derek asked. Isaac pulled a face.

"Squirrel. For breakfast?" Stiles held up three dead squirrels.

"I miss the days when you made us pancakes." Derek pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, that happened after I had a high from Red Bull." Stiles argued, slowly lowering his catch, "Do you not want to eat squirrels?"

"No."

"But," Stiles glanced down at them with a frown, "they're tasty. And you're werewolves."

"No," Isaac said, "we're suburban teenagers."

"It was going to be a victory breakfast." Stiles defended himself.

"I'd rather have Lucky Charms as a victory breakfast." Scott said, "Sorry, dude."

Stiles' shoulders slouched and he looked at the ground, "I knew I should have caught some rabbit."

"We're out of Lucky Charms." Derek said, getting himself another cup of coffee and pouring one for Stiles.

"Weren't you just at the grocery store?" Scott asked, "Why didn't you pick some up."

"Because our shopping got cut short when a faerie appeared in the middle of the aisle." Derek responded.

"Kellen is an ass." Stiles said, dropping the squirrels in the sink.

"What kind of name is Kellen?" Issac asked.

"A faerie name. It means warrior." Stiles sipped his coffee. "Do you have good knives for skinning?"

"And the woman fae? What was her name again?" Derek asked, pointing to a drawer.

"Orrla?" Stiles said, opening the drawer and looking through it, his voice getting the tone for storytelling once more, "The Golden Queen. Literally, she's one of their queens. They view her as the queen of their blood. I was almost surprised to see her." Giving a noise of joy, he held up a knife that he deemed appropriate, "Kellen is a leader in their warriors, and Orrla is good at fighting and strategy. Because it's in their blood to fight and what is life without the pleasures and the pain that make their blood course through their veins and yada, yada, yada." Finishing his coffee he picked up the squirrels, "Since you're out of Lucky Charms I didn't catch these suckers for nothing." Humming to himself, Stiles went back outside with the knife and his catch.

Scott looked frightened, "I don't want to eat squirrels."

VIII

Derek pulled up to the grocery store with Stiles along side him. They needed actual food, as well as more ingredients for bread. Scott had whined about the squirrels and had told Derek that he had to buy some Lucky Charms before he stayed the night again. Derek replied that then he wouldn't ever go buy them if it meant he didn't have to deal with Scott in the morning.

It was voted that Stiles would go with him so that he could find out what food was because food is not some squirrels he caught in the yard, oh my God, dude, how do you not know that?

Derek thought that his pack was conspiring to get them together. Not that Derek would be opposed to that.

Derek looked up when Stiles put his hand on his shoulder after they parked, "Don't worry, dude. I don't think that Kellen will show up. It's ten in the morning. And he knows he doesn't stand a chance against us in the battlefield."

Staring at him, Derek wondered if Stiles was real.

"I'm taking my hand off." Stiles said, almost nervous.

Derek rolled his eyes and got out, Stiles following closely behind. Once they entered the store, an employee stopped them, "Sir, you need to be wearing shoes if you want to shop here."

Derek turned to watch Stiles, who had said he usually didn't get stopped in public, "Oh? Do I?" He scratched at his ear.

"Yes sir. You do." The employee said.

"Oh." Stiles nodded then walked around the guy and grabbed a shopping cart before going down the first aisle. Turning to Derek, Stiles asked, "Is there a groupings of food we're looking for? Are we shopping with a written grouping of food?"

"You mean a list?" Derek raised an eyebrow.

Stiles snapped his fingers, "That. Yes. A grouping of food."

Derek sighed, "Yes, we have a list." He pulled it out. "Everyone wrote down things they wanted."

"Oh look," Stiles pointed to a line on the list that was in Peter's handwriting before reading it, "'the blood of my enemies.' I don't think we can buy that in stores." Stiles drawled sarcastically.

It wasn't long before Derek found him and Stiles in the middle of the store and Stiles telling him about how they should start looking at the food and making sure it was good for them. Nice and healthy food, Derek Hale, it's very important.

"But we're werewolves." Derek said, just putting boxes of junk food in the cart.

"Yeah, I tried that argument earlier with the squirrel. It didn't work, therefore, you can't use it." Stiles put his hands on his hips.

Derek was about to reply when a voice behind him said, "Stiles?"

Turning around, Derek saw Chris Argent and swore.

Stiles turned to Chris, eyebrows raised, "Oh, hi."

"It is Stiles?" Chris' brows furrowed as he clarified.

Stiles' face looked as if he was afraid of the answer. "We haven't slept together and you're not here to freak me out?"

"No, we haven't had sex." Chris answered.

"I thought with you," he moved his hand to point at him, "being a man and all, that we'd sex."

"No." Chris stated again.

Stiles let out a laugh, "Oh good."

Derek turned to him, "Do you often get cornered in the grocery stores by people you've had sex with?"

Stiles shrugged, "It wouldn't be the first time."

"This is Chris Argent." Derek said unhappily, "He's a hunter."

"Oh." Stiles nodded before letting out a bark of laughter, "Blood of his enemies!" He doubled over laughing.

"So you've met Stiles before?" Derek asked, turning his back on Stiles.

"No." Chris said, eyes locked on Stiles. "I haven't."

"Then how-"

"He's in the bestiary." Chris answered.

Stiles pushed Derek to the side, "Do you want my autograph? I'll sign your bestiary."

Derek turned to him, "How about you go and get some more things on the list?" He handed it over.

Stiles took the paper and the cart and went off humming to himself.

"What does the bestiary have on him?" Derek asked, hoping that Stiles wasn't going to buy another case of Red Bull.

"Honestly? Not much." Chris said, giving Derek his full attention. "There is a drawing of him and it says that he is probably dangerous."

"Does it have my nose right?" Stiles asked, peeking around the corner.

"Stiles!" Derek yelled at him.

Stiles disappeared and Chris looked to where Stiles had gone to thoughtfully, "He seems different then I'd always imagined."

Derek snorted in agreement. "It doesn't tell you anything?"

"Sorry, no." Chris answered, "I'm guessing he hasn't told you what he is?"

"He bleeds ink." Derek shrugged.

"Weresquid, do you think?" Chris asked.

"God no." Derek swore, "That is Scott's theory."

"Ah." Chris nodded, "I'm sorry, but the bestiary doesn't have anything on him. I'm guessing he's here to help with the faerie problem you have?"

"You know about that?" Derek said.

"Afraid so." Chris said, "As long as they don't start going after the people, I'll leave it to you to sort it out."

"How kind of you." Derek replied dryly.

"The bestiary entry for fae is basically telling you to give up and run the other way." Chris put an arm on Derek's shoulder, "I'll leave that to you." He nodded and grabbed a loaf of bread before walking away.

"Can I come back now, Derek Hale?" Stiles' voice came from the next aisle over, "I got some stuff while you were talking but when I came back you were still talking so I stayed here."

"Yes, Stiles." Derek said, turning to see Stiles push the cart down the aisle, "Argent and I are done talking."

"How come everything happens in your grocery store? Is it the best place for cornering enemies or something?" Stiles asked, pushing the cart towards the check out.

Derek shrugged, "I don't get out much so they have to corner me somewhere."

"Hey, Derek Hale," Stiles started while they were putting the groceries into the car, "want to get lunch somewhere?"

Derek looked up, ice cream in hand, "Stiles, we have food."

Stiles waved his hand, "We'll stop by and drop them off and then go get lunch."

"Okay." Derek smiled.

It didn't take long for them to put the groceries away and get back in the car. "Got anywhere in mind?"

Stiles shrugged, "It's been awhile since I was in town, so I don't know what places are good."

"How long has it been?" Derek asked.

Stiles' face scrunched up, "Twenty years or so. I don't know. Time is weird."

"Okay." Derek nodded slowly, "Any requests for type of food?"

"Whatever you feel like Derek Hale." Stiles said with a smirk.

Derek drove towards his favorite diner. "Stiles," he paused, "is this a date?"

"Yes." Stiles said, "Isn't it? I asked you out."

"That's how you ask people out?" Derek squinted, "I wasn't even sure it was a date."

"It's been awhile since I asked someone out." Stiles defended himself.

"How long has it been?" Derek found himself asking again.

"A while?" Stiles scratched the side of his face. "To be honest with you, Derek Hale, I don't usually date. Sure, sex with strangers sometimes, but I don't date much. Every few decades I meet someone who I'd like to actually date."

"So I should feel privileged?" Derek pulled into the diner's parking lot and turned to face Stiles.

"If you want. Who am I to tell you how to feel." Stiles grinned. "Are we here? This place has good food?"

"Yes." Derek said, getting out of the car.

Derek was surprised that he actually felt lighter, knowing that Stiles didn't just date anyone. And that he was the one who made the move first, Derek knew for sure that Stiles was actually interested in him. And he found that he actually trusted him. Derek hadn't expected to trust the guy when they first met.

Derek didn't open himself up and he hadn't thought he'd ever start dating again. But he was forced to get to know Stiles, and realized he liked him.

On Stiles' second day in Beacon Hills he had told Derek that everyone deserves happiness. And the way he had said it struck something within Derek. He deserved happiness and Derek had found him happier than he had been in years when he was with Stiles. He was one of a kind and he made Derek feel like he was something special too.

The diner Derek chose had decent food but what Derek liked best about it was that they hadn't ever judged him. When the sheriff had thought he murdered Laura and when he was person of interest, the diner was always somewhere to go where the staff didn't give him looks or call the police on him.

Sitting down, Derek was disappointed that they got a waitress he'd never seen before. She handed over the menus while staring at Stiles. She didn't seem impressed with his tattoos. As far as Derek knew, the tattoos were all over Stiles' body and written in archaic latin for some reason. He didn't know what they said or what they meant to Stiles, but he liked the tattoos. They looked good on him.

"Ooh, curly fries." Stiles grinned over at him, either ignoring the looks from the waitress or not noticing them. Derek wasn't sure which one would be better. "I'll take a burger with some curly fries." He closed the menu.

"Same." Derek said, "And a chocolate milkshake." He glowered at her.

"Ooh! Strawberry for me, please." Stiles laughed.

"Fine." The waitress said before grabbing the menus and leaving them alone.

"I am excited about curly fries." Stiles informed Derek. "And this date. It's going to be rockin'."

"Yeah," Derek agreed with a smile, "Rockin'."

"I'm pleased that you are attracted to me like i'm attracted to you. More fun that way." Stiles said, watching the waitress walk over with their shakes.

"Unrequited love is a bitch." Derek nodded.

She handed their shakes over with a pointed look at Stiles.

Derek wanted to growl at her.

He didn't like that they got a new waitress who was, apparently, very judgemental. He had brought Stiles to that diner because in the past it had always been a welcoming place. Or so it had always been.

They sat and chatted for a few minutes, waiting for their food, before a kid who looked about six years old came over and tapped Stiles on the shoulder. Stiles turned to him with a smile on his face, "Yes, can I help you, young sir?"

"What is all that stuff on your skin?" The kid asked.

"Writing." Stiles answered.

"I'm learning my abc's and they don't look like that stuff." He pointed at Stiles.

"That's because this is a different language." Stiles smiled. "Learning your abc's huh? That's tough work. Have you got them down, yet?"

"Uh-huh." The kid nodded. "It was easy."

"I had trouble with learning mine." Stiles said as if it was a secret.

"Is that because you knew this weird writing first?" The kid asked curiously.

"Yes." Stiles nodded, "The first language I knew was the one that is written on my skin."

"Did you put it on your skin so that you wouldn't forget it?" The child poked at Stiles' hand, "Since you know our language now and don't have room in your head for both?"

Stiles let out a loud laugh, "No. I don't think I can forget my first language."

The kid was about to open his mouth again to ask something else when his mother came over, "I'm so sorry." She pulled her son towards her, "I had to go to the bathroom and he didn't listen to me when I told him to not come over."

"It's fine." Stiles said with a comforting smile, "He was just curious." He held his hand up to the child for a fist bump which the kid enthusiastically gave back.

Derek watched as the mother and son walked back to their table before looking back to Stiles, "Is that really your first language?"

"Yes." Stiles nodded. "Learned how to write it before I learned how to speak it. But then when you have something that gets stained into you, you learn what it is fast. I mean, what if they wrote lettuce on me but told people it said never give up? Nope, I am going to learn what it says."

"Archaic latin, right?" Derek asked, realizing that this is what would tell Derek how old Stiles really was. This information.

"Yes." Stiles replied.

"Holy shit." Derek swore. He didn't know for certain when archaic latin was used but he did know that it was thousands of years ago.

Before Derek could say anything else the waitress arrived with their food.

"These are really good curly fries, thanks for taking us here for our first date." Stiles said with his mouth full, "I assume there will be other dates because, Derek Hale, we're rockin' this."

"I'm open to more dates." Derek replied after swallowing. He was okay with dating someone who was thousands of years older than him.

"Awesome." Stiles grinned.

They chatted for a bit longer while eating their food before heading back home. Peter was busy in the living room so Derek took Stiles out back behind the house.

Derek had a bit of time to think about his relationship with Stiles. He was fine with him being much older and he like Stiles personality but he needed to know what Stiles was. If he was going to be dating the guy he had to know what he was getting into. As much as he'd prefer to not assume anything of people based on what they were, it did help knowing.

"I'm sorry if this is rude, or if you don't like to talk about it," Derek started, "but I want to know what you are."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, poking him in the shoulder, "I'll have you know that I'm awesome."

Derek sighed, "I know that you aren't human, Stiles. I'm a werewolf, what are you?"

Stiles' face scrunched up, "Aw come on, man. I thought Deaton told you when he gave you my number. I'm an open book!" He spread his arms out.

"Okay," Derek started, "if you're an open book then how about you just tell me what you are."

Stiles sighed, "A book."

"I get it, Stiles." Derek glared, "You're an open book but you need to say what you actually are and not make me guess."

"Derek Hale, you need to listen to me." Stiles put Derek's face between his hands, "I used to be a book. Way back when a nice magical guy wrote magic stuff down in a book. The book was me. A dick guy bought me and kept me on his bookshelf and would flip through my pages after he had sex or went pee and it was gross. I wanted to see the world so one day I took human form."

Derek blinked, "You were a book. Holy shit. You have writing on your skin, not tattoos. You 'read' people, bleed ink and had a dream about someone breaking your spine."

Stiles shrugged, "I thought you knew." He looked down at the ground, "Are you weirded out now? Do you not want to date and have sex with a book?"

Derek laughed, "Scott thought you were a weresquid. I'd prefer you being a book to a weresquid."

"Oh my God, Derek Hale, do weresquids exist?" Stiles looked up.

IX

In the morning Derek was awake before Stiles, having left him sleeping soundly in the bed. He had been pleased to find out that the latin was written all over Stiles' body. The only place it wasn't was on his face. He had also been vocal, which not only did Derek find it as a turn on, but it was a good revenge for all those times he heard Scott and Isaac together.

"Okay, so maybe he's a mutant." Scott mused out loud towards Isaac who was staring blankly at his soggy cereal. "Like from the X-Men."

Derek shook his head as he fixed a plate of breakfast foods for him and Stiles.

"It would explain his long life, the ink, his healing. It explains things, right? He's a mutant, dude." Scott nodded, taking a bite of his Lucky Charms.

Derek grabbed the coffee carafe in one hand and the plate in the other, "Stiles is book." Grinning, he went back to his bedroom.

Before he shut his bedroom door, he heard Scott's voice yell, "He's a book?!"

X

"Don't get too attached." Peter said, placing a cup of coffee in front of Derek.

Derek looked up, "What?"

"Listen, I like that you're having a relationship again. It's healthy." Peter paused, "Not fond of hearing all the sex though."

"Okay?" Derek said, confusion tilting his voice.

"Stiles likes you, and that's great, but Derek, you need to think of this as a little spring fling. It's not a relationship." Before Derek could protest, Peter held up a hand, "Stiles has a life in Chicago."

Derek froze.

"When all of this is over, he is probably going back there." Peter's voice was gentle, "I don't want you to get too hurt over this. I like the guy, he's good for you. But don't get attached." Peter nodded and then walked out of the room leaving Derek to his thoughts.

Peter had pointed out the obvious.

Stiles lived in Chicago. Not in Beacon Hills.

Putting his head in his hands, Derek let out a deep sigh. It was true that Stiles liked him enough to date, but they hadn't been dating long and he couldn't expect Stiles to uproot his life for a guy he barely knew. And Derek wouldn't ask him to do that.

He would just have to work on not getting too attached to Stiles. Think of it as a spring fling, like Peter suggested. Derek could do that.

But then Stiles walked in, hair messy from the sleeping, one pajama pants leg stuck half up his calf while the pants hung low on his hips and Derek was able to see past the writing on Stiles' chest and neck to see all the parts he had marked.

His breath caught, realizing that he was already too attached to Stiles. The understanding he had come to hit him like a punch in the gut. He would have to say goodbye to Stiles when they defeated the fae. Closing his eyes for a second, he let out a sigh.

When Derek took another look at Stiles, he saw that his eyes had the purple tint to them again. "Are you reading me?" Derek's voice was quiet.

Stiles shook his head, eyes clearing back out, "Sorry. You were wanting it. I couldn't stop it, Derek Hale. You know I don't like to read people who don't want it."

Derek put up his hand, "Just- let's not talk about it?"

Stiles' brows furrowed, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Derek gave a short nod. "I'm sure."

Shrugging, Stiles moved towards the coffee, "Okay. If that's what you really want."

"It is." Derek replied. He didn't want to be told about how he had come to the right conclusion and be gently broken up with. Getting up, he left the room, leaving Stiles with the coffee.

XI

Derek had never seen so many faeries in one place before. They stalked along the ground, grins wider than their faces, bodies splattered with red and gold. They had an otherworldly grace as they moved and slashed at his pack.

The ringing in his ears was distracting, and he thought he heard someone yell his name. Twisting his head, Derek saw Erica running towards him, making gestures. Squinting he saw her waving her hands to the left as she jumped over a fallen fae.

Time seemed to speed up as Derek's hearing came back, he saw the faerie that Erica was leaping over reach up to grab at her. Growling, he rushed forward, keeping low to the ground and plowed into the form, making the fae miss Erica.

Derek made quick work of the fae he had pushed and slashed at it's throat. Not giving it much more thought he went to check on Erica to see her getting stabbed by a faerie who had clearly been about to cut at Derek if he hadn't gotten out of the way.

Getting up, he went to run to her side. He slipped in the grass which was covered in gold blood from the faerie he had just cut the throat of. Pushing himself up, Derek moved to get to Erica.

By the time he got to her, she had gotten her hands on the fae's blade and stabbed him in the eye with it. Derek took a moment to catch his breath and watch as the fae died.

"Stabbing people in the face is really good stress relief." Erica said. "You okay?"

"Just peachy." Derek said. "Thanks for the save."

"Same to you." Erica grinned before reaching down and pulling the blade out of the faerie. "Let's go get more of the suckers."

The problem was that they were outnumbered. Derek didn't have to look out over the field to pick a faerie to attack, he could just close his eyes and walk a few feet. They were everywhere. Derek knew they didn't really have much of a chance to defeat them, but he hadn't known it would be so little of a chance.

His pack was holding their own, as well as they could. Derek noted that none of his pack was dead. But it wouldn't be long before one of them would fall.

Before Derek could follow Erica back into battle, Orrla stood in front of him. She smiled, "He likes you, you know?" She took a step towards Derek. "And I would love to cause him pain. It would bring me joy."

She reached forward to grab Derek and he ducked under her grasp but she was fast and he wasn't able to dodge her a second time. Pushing him down against the ground, she straddled him and put her hands around his throat.

He idly thought about how last time he fought with Orrla it was very similar to this, only Stiles had arrived in time to save him.

Snarling, he fought her grip and she tightened her hold around his neck.

"You have been a decent foe." She whispered to him, "But you are weak."

Derek felt her press down harder, fingers digging into his skin.

"Derek!" Stiles voice reached his ears.

Turning his head, he saw Stiles running up, no knives in his hands. Stiles wouldn't be able to save him like last time.

"Orrla, stop!" Stiles yelled. "Don't kill him."

Orrla's hands loosened but didn't let go. "I'll kill him if I want to."

"I'll go with you." Stiles said quickly.

She turned, "Say again?"

Stiles took a breath and gave a glance around the field, "If we stop this battle without killing Derek Hale, without killing anyone, and you promise that none of your court will enter our world again, I will go with you."

"Stiles," Derek said, voice cracking, "no."

Orrla stood up, letting go of Derek, "You give your word?"

"If you will." Stiles said, black ink dripping from his hand.

"Stop the battle." Orrla said, voice no rising. The sound of the fight stopped suddenly. Speaking louder, she said, "Let's go home. We have a new prize to play with." Giving a too wide grin, she put a hand on Stiles' shoulder.

Derek locked eyes with Stiles as he disappeared with all of the fae.

Pushing himself up, Derek looked around as his pack waked over to him.

"What just happened?" Scott asked.

"Stiles sacrificed himself." Derek said, "He gave himself to them, so that they didn't kill- Why would he do that?"

"Are they coming back later?" Lydia asked. "Is this like before?"

"I don't think so." Peter answered, giving Derek an odd look, "I think what Stiles did-"

"Why would he do that?" Derek turned on Peter, "He hated the faeries! Why would he go with them?"

Peter tilted his head, "I think he loved you like you loved him."

"You said it was a spring fling!" Derek yelled, pushing Peter. "You said it was just a spring fling for him."

Peter took a few steps back, but kept his footing, "I know. I know I said that."

Taking a deep breath, Derek narrowed his eyes, "We have to go save him."

"But-"

"He made a deal with them." Derek ground out, "Stiles would go with them and they would never come back to our world."

"How can we save him?" Isaac asked, "If he comes back they'll get to come back too, right? And then we'd be right back where we started."

"No." Boyd said, "It depends on what his exact words were. Stiles may have given himself an out with how he worded it."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked.

"What were his exact words?" Boyd stared at Derek.

"That he would go with them." Derek said.

"Not that he would stay with them?" Boyd said, "This is very important, Derek."

Derek shook his head, "He said nothing about staying with them."

Boyd grinned, "And that's it. We go to their world and bring Stiles back with us. Stiles would have kept his word as he went with them, and so they would have to keep their word."

XII

"So is there a way?" Derek asked, staring at Deaton with his arms crossed.

"You want to go to their realm?" Deaton asked.

"Yes." He answered, "All of us do." He glanced at his pack and they all nodded. "So is there a way?"

Deaton paused before nodding, "There are doorways to their realm. Long forgotten about."

"Where is the nearest doorway?" Isaac asked. "I just, I don't like the idea of Stiles being there with them."

Deaton frowned, "I don't like the idea either." Turning he went through some papers before grabbing a map. "It's in the preserve."

"Our preserve? Beacon Hills Preserve?" Derek said.

"Yes." Deaton circled an area on the map. "You've heard of the land beneath the hill?"

"Of course." Derek said.

"This is the hill. Circle it's base twice and the doorway will appear." Deaton handed the map over.

"That's it?" Derek's brows furrowed, "It's that simple?"

"They wanted poor souls getting in, yes. Once inside it's easy to get lost or come upon a fae and be killed." Deaton shrugged. "Stick close together when you go."

XIII

"This isn't much of a hill." Peter said, "More of a mound."

"Come on." Derek ignored him and started walking around it.

Once they hit their second circle, there was a door in the spot where they began.

"It's a wooden door." Jackson said. "With an ivory handle."

Derek turned to his pack, "If any of you don't want to follow me, you don't have too. I know I am going in after Stiles-"

"Because you love him." Erica waggled her eyebrows.

"-but it's going to be dangerous. We may not come back from this. The faeries are going to be stronger in their realm. No one will look down on you if you decide it's too much for you."

"Stiles was our friend." Scott said, "I know I want to help out my friend."

"And if you say something about me being human," Lydia started, "I will personally see to it that you get shot with so much wolfsbane you won't be coming back.

Derek rolled his eyes, "Everyone ready then?" After they gave their nod, he opened the door.

It was a dark tunnel. The smell of dirt was overpowering. Thankfully it didn't take long for Derek's eyes to adjust to the darkness.

The tunnel didn't last too long, and they soon found themselves in a cavern with a smaller hill in the middle. The cavern had a little bit of light coming from somewhere and the hill was covered in grass.

"I take it back," Peter started, "this is a mound."

"Circle it twice?" Scott suggested with a shrug.

After the first walk around, the doorway to the tunnel was gone, the second time created another door on the small hill.

After entering the second door, they were in some only light came from some sort of orbs that floated around.

"Will-o-the-wisps." Lydia said, "Don't follow any of them. They're known to lead people to their death."

The forest was too quiet to be a real one. But it smelled like trees. The sounds of their footsteps was muffled, as if the sound couldn't reach their ears all the way. They walked in silence, Derek picking directions based on his intuition.

It seemed like it was hours before they heard some voices. The pack began walking quieter, not wanting to be heard by whoever was talking.

They entered upon a clearing that was filled with faeries. None of them looked like they had injuries from the battle that happened just earlier that day. But then, Stiles had said that time worked differently in their world.

Derek froze with the thought of how long Stiles may had been there. At the hands of the faeries.

Just when Derek started to think that Stiles may no longer even be alive, he heard his voice.

"No, you don't get to touch me." Stiles' voice reached them. For Derek it wasn't as hushed as the other's were. It was strong and clear. "Okay? So keep your fucking hands off me."

"How many times must I tell you?" Orrla's voice cut through. "You came with us of your own free will. What makes you think you have any of that left?"

Derek let out an involuntary growl.

Orrla looked up and saw them. "It seems as if your deal was worthless, my Stiles."

Stiles' head jerked up. "Derek Hale." He whispered.

"We're here to bring Stiles home." Derek said, glaring at Orrla.

"He is home." Orrla smirked. "He can't leave, not without us following back."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "My God, Orrla. You need to start paying attention when you make deals." He stood up, "And I'm leaving with my pack."

Orrla turned on Stiles and picked him up by his neck, "You are not."

Derek let out out a noise of anger as he felt himself shift into his alpha form.

Only it was different. He felt bigger than before, faster, and more powerful. He found himself staring down at Orrla who had fear in her eyes. Glancing behind him, he saw his pack shifting into wolf forms. Bigger than the actual wolves back home, towering over Lydia.

Stiles let out a laugh as Orrla dropped him, "Taking on their true wolf form here where werewolves started." He stood up and held his arm at a strange angle, "I'm sure you remember their ancestors."

Derek remembered the story Stiles had told weeks ago. How werewolves started in the faerie realm and how the fae were afraid of the wolves. Derek let out a howl that made Orrla jerk backwards.

The pack gave out their own howls in response and they charged forward.

Orrla stepped in front of Stiles, getting ready to fight on her ground for a change, the other fae taking cue from her and getting into battle stances.

Stiles gave Derek a wink from behind Orrla as he reached under his shirt and pulled out one of his knives. Before Derek could reach her, Stiles stabbed Orrla in the back of the neck with his knife. She turned and struck a blow at Stiles.

Derek pushed himself faster, he had to get to Stiles.

He put himself between Stiles and Orrla before Orrla hit Stiles for the third time. Derek clawed at Orrla, she fell back and looked down at her wounds. It was worse than anything Derek had given a faerie.

"Forget how much they could hurt you in this form, eh?" Stiles said, slowly getting to his feet.

Orrla gave a dark look, "Won't take long to remember how easily I can rip their stomachs out."

Derek was surprised when Stiles climbed on top of his back. "But you won't remember in time. Derek Hale, let's get out of here."

Derek let out another howl for his pack before running towards the woods, where he knew the doorway was.

They ran faster than normal and Derek saw some of his pack trip over their feet or not duck in time before hitting a tree. Not being used to their bodies was not helping their escape. Derek was sure to be extra careful with Stiles on his back, and he saw that Jackson, who had Lydia was being careful as well.

"This isn't the way I was expecting to ride you again." Stiles whispered into his ear.

Derek stumbled slightly when Stiles said that. He gained the ground he lost quickly, not liking how close the faeries sounded as they gave chase.

"Get them!" Orrla cried out.

The faeries were gaining on them, but Derek pushed himself harder, wanting to get to the tunnel before they caught up. The fae could still attack them while in the tunnel but the numbers would be fewer.

Stiles let out a whoop of excitement as Derek pushed himself faster. A few of the faeries were ahead of others, one of them jumping onto Derek's back along with Stiles. Derek wanted to shake the faerie off, but that would throw Stiles off as well.

Instead he could feel Stiles turning around on his back and a struggle started. Derek glanced back to watch the fight. He saw Stiles without any of his knives putting up a decent fight. The faerie had a weapon though, and his blade sliced at Stiles who wasn't always able to duck when the blows came. Derek let out a worried whine when he smelled the ink from Stiles.

Stiles' bare feet dug into his sides, the toes clenching at his fur. "Derek Hale." Stiles said, quickly pressing his legs against Derek, getting a better grip. Derek took this as a sign, and he took a quick turn, the fae haven't not prepared for it like Stiles did and he tumbled to the ground.

Derek glanced around to make sure none of his pack needed help, and it appeared as if most of the faeries were trying to get to Stiles and were leaving the others alone. Feeling Stiles lean forward and grab fur tightly with his hands, "Let's get out of here."

Derek flattened down as much as he could and pressed forward more, finding out how fast this form could go. His feet dug into the dirt when he entered the tunnel but he didn't slow down once he entered it. Letting out a bark of question, he counted the responses from everyone and was glad to hear that his pack had also made it to the tunnel.

The doorway loomed up ahead and Derek had to slow down. He wouldn't be able to fit through the door, he'd have to shift to human. As soon as the pack was at the door, Stiles and Lydia stood guard while everyone else shifted back.

"We have to hurry." Derek said, as soon as he could use his voice, "We aren't safe yet."

The pack ran through the door and Peter commented about how he wished they could lock the door to keep the fae from following. They ran around the mound two times before the other door appeared and Lydia muttered about how she was happy it was just as easy to leave as it was to enter.

They rolled out the door and when it didn't just disappear after them, they circled the hill again, even though the faeries shouldn't have been able to follow them out that door, they didn't want anyone going through the door.

Once they felt safe, Stiles leaned against Derek and let out a breathy laugh. "I knew you'd come for me, Derek Hale."

XIV

"Why did you do it?" Derek asked Stiles, leaning against him on the porch.

"Do what?" Stiles ran his hands through Derek's hair.

"Sacrifice yourself." He answered.

"Because I love you." Stiles shrugged.

Derek frowned, "Really?"

"I thought that you knew?" Stiles came around from the back of Derek to look at him, "That's why we didn't talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Derek furrowed his brows.

"Y'know, that morning." Stiles waved his hand.

"What morning?" Derek pressed.

"When I just woke up and accidentally read you. How you love me and I was going to tell you how it was same from me and how I thought maybe when this was done I'd move here and we'd have a life together and yada, yada, yada." Stiles poked Derek on the shoulder, "And then you said we didn't have to talk about it so I figured that, y'know, you knew."

Derek pressed his hand against his face, "I didn't know."

"Oh." Stiles' eyebrows shot up.

"Peter had pointed out that you had a life in Chicago." Derek revealed quietly.

"So," Stiles started, "do you not want a yada, yada, yada life with me?"

Derek looked up, "I want a yada, yada, yada life with you."