Chapter 7 - Magic
"This has to be really strange for you," Derek said after a few minutes pause. "You're not used to supernatural instincts."
"Really weird," Stiles admitted with a nod, "but I talked to the wolf. There are things coming, bad things, and I don't know when or what they are, but there's no way I'm leaving Scott and everyone to deal with that. I don't think I'm a good choice, but weirder shit had happened in this town, so I've decided to accept it."
Derek looked at him for a while.
"That's a very mature attitude," Derek commented.
"Yeah, well it helps that I have a huge boner for you as well," he replied and totally smashed the mood.
He managed to make Derek smile again though, so it was worth it.
"Doesn't it bother you?" he asked.
It looked as if Derek considered that for a few moments.
"I was born a wolf," Derek replied eventually; "I've known about things like this my whole life. White wolves are stories, fairytales for children, but my mother always stressed how important such things could be. You surprised the hell out of me, but, to me, it makes sense."
"You mean you've been conditioned to accept things like this since you were a kid, so you're just going with it?" Stiles asked.
"Kind of," Derek said with a sad little smile.
There was something lost in that smile and Stiles felt the instant need to fix it.
"So," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat, "how do we do this?"
Stiles really didn't expect it when Derek moved off the couch and knelt down on one knee in front of him.
"Stiles," Derek said, looking at him completely seriously, "will you do me the honour of becoming my mate?"
Part of Stiles wanted to laugh, because it felt utterly ridiculous, but the rest of him knew just how important this was to Derek. It also changed his perception and suddenly he could feel everything balanced, as if on a knife edge, waiting for his answer. Only then did he realise that he actually had a choice.
The doubts and fears began to fade as, with total certainty, he knew that he could say no. All the instincts, all the hormones, they were signposts and instigators, but they were not compulsions. In that moment it all became clear. He wasn't sure what would happen if he did say no, but the knowledge sank in that the option was there.
That changed everything.
"Yes," he said and as Derek stood up and took his hand he felt part of something inside him click into place.
Just for a second the loft seemed to partially fade out, leaving only him and Derek in focus and he swayed towards his mate.
"Woah," Derek said, catching him gently as he swayed too far, "are you okay?"
"Don't let go," he said, leaning his cheek against Derek's shoulder, "please."
It felt right and perfect and he didn't want to move ever again.
"What should I do?" Derek asked and it was kind of settling to know Derek was just as lost as he was.
"Would you mind kissing me?" he asked, looking up, because it was the first thing that came into his head.
He had never kissed a man before, he hadn't kissed that many girls either, but definitely not a man. The stubble was a bit of a shock. Other than that though, it didn't seem that much different and he threw himself into it. Almost immediately it was as if something clicked again, like the second barrel of a combination lock and he shivered with the feeling of magic. As is slithered into him he realised that he had felt a reflection of it several times over the last few months and he began to wonder how one baseball bat had held up a whole roof or how that crash hadn't actually done more than bang his head. The spark Deaton had told him about had never been as strong as what he was feeling at that moment, but now he could see what it had been.
When the kiss broke he smiled and his vision sparkled.
"Wow," he said, feeling a little lightheaded.
He looked around as the bright loft and little flashes danced at the edges of his sight. Without really meaning to, he followed them, turning out of Derek's arms and gazing about.
"Stiles?" Derek asked from behind him.
"Lights," he said, "lots of pretty lights."
More and more of them started to leap into his sight as the feeling of magic and energy built inside him. It became so bright that he closed his eyes and just felt. For a while it swept him away and he let it take him. However, eventually he had to open his eyes and that was when everything changed.
"Derek!" he screamed, reaching out blindly into what was stark whiteness.
Terror ripped through his chest because there was nothing, just power and him and it seemed to go on forever. Any illusion of control was gone. He felt as if he was going to break apart into infinity and there was nothing to stop him.
"I've got you."
The words were whispered in his ear as arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him back against a firm, strong chest.
"You're not alone."
He actually sobbed at that as the fear ebbed a little, but the raw power he could feel still scared the shit out of him.
"Let it in," Derek told him, "I won't let you go."
"I don't want it," Stiles whispered even though he knew there was no going back.
"It's just a reflection of you at a supernatural level," Derek said. "It can't change you, only you can change it."
"But I'm the ADHD nightmare who can't even think without medication," he said, as all his insecurities bubbled to the surface.
"Maybe, maybe not," Derek told him, "but you're Stiles and you're mine."
It was just what he needed to hear and in a corner of his mind it occurred to him this was another reason he had been so blatantly pointed at Derek. Scott probably would have tried to placate him, tell him he wasn't what he thought even though he knew at a base level it was true. That wouldn't have helped, but Derek hadn't completely denied the reality, just made him look at it another way.
"It's so much," he said, awed by what he was feeling. "I remember, before, the spark, but not this. How can I control this?"
"The same way you control yourself," Derek said. "I can feel it too, you don't need to be afraid."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
That was all he needed and he let go. It was like white lightning down his nerves, electrifying and terrifying in equal measure, but there was no pain. It was not comfortable, mostly because he felt as if he was filling up with energy and there was nowhere for it to go, but it was not painful.
"Der...ek," he stuttered, "I'm going to explode."
"No you're not," Derek said, holding him in an even tighter embrace.
Stiles wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. He still couldn't see anything except white, and as the magic poured through him, he realised it was beginning to look a little grey on the edges. That was not good, definitely not good, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.
"Gonna pass out," he mumbled just as he felt his knees beginning to go.
He didn't actually lose touch with reality completely, but everything was all mixed up for a while. The fact he was hoisted bridal style into strong arms did make it into his head and then he was placed on something soft and comfortable, but that was about it. Derek never stopped touching him. If Derek had, he was pretty sure he would have lost it, but as the magic raged inside him doing things he totally did not understand, Derek's firm presence kept him grounded.
Slowly reality began to come back. As he blinked, first it was hazy greys and blobs, then slowly colour and form started to bleed in. When he could finally make out Derek looking down at him he felt his equilibrium beginning to reassert itself.
"Rush," he said, or tried to say, but his tongue didn't seem to be quite back to working order yet.
"I know," Derek replied, face as serious as usual, but something warm in his eyes.
"Get you too?"
"Some," Derek told him, "but I don't think we're done yet."
"Can't move," he pointed out.
His limbs felt heavy and unresponsive and all the energy he had managed to claw back from sleeping in contact with Scott seemed to have drained away. On one level he felt like he should be able to walk on the moon, on the other blinking was hard.
"We have plenty of time," Derek told him and there was a hint of a smile. "Go to sleep."
"Not the boss of me," was what he tried to reply, just to be contrary, what came out resembled it very little even as his eyes slowly slid shut.
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