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Author: adja999, Original_Cypher on AO3.
Title: Staring into the sun
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s), Character(s): Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Alan Deaton, Peter Hale, Bobby Finstock, Lydia Martin, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Danny Mahealani, Laura Hale, "Hit-Girl" Mindy Macready, Sergeant Greg Parker, mentions of others
Rating: Teen and Up?
Words: 32,265
Summary: X-Men like AU
Our protagonists are attending Beacon Hills Academy, an institution for 'specials'. They've been detected early on, and some of them are showing spectacular abilities already. The Hales are a genetic mystery all together. Stiles, however, despite having being singled out as a kid, is nothing special. And he knows it.
Circumstances and people – read Peter – conspire to put Stiles and Derek together. Changes ensue.
Then all hell breaks loose.
***
There are two characters guest staring from other fandoms. One from KickAss, one from Flashpoint. You do not need to have seen the movie or tv show to understand this fic, and it does not contain spoilers for either of them.
Spoilers for Teen Wolf are very few, since it's an AU. Mostly characters from S2 and relationships.
Spoilers/Warnings: There are two characters guest staring from other fandoms. One from KickAss, one from Flashpoint. You do not need to have seen the movie or tv show to understand this fic, and it does not contain spoilers for either of them.
Spoilers for Teen Wolf are very few, since it's an AU. Mostly characters from S2 and relationships.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm just playing. I'll give them back. Maybe. If and when I'm done.

First part | Previous part

12.




Stiles runs up the hill, blessing his habit to jog at any opportunity. He had hoped Derek was kidding when he said he was two minutes out, but the incline is a bitch. He keeps going up, the hill becoming an increasingly dangerous cliff by his side.

When he gets up there, he's panting, even more soaked in sweat than he was when he started. He's immensely relieved to see a black shape bound away from a punch and growl. “On site,” he calls into the coms. “Derek is fine. Going in.”



“Copy.”



Derek wasn't lying when he said it was weakened. There are scratches all over his elbows and knees. A lot on his throat and upper chest. Derek went with Jackson's insight and it worked well. The cuts are deep and some of them are bleeding. So it's got a tangerine hue and is probably far from classic human blood, but Stiles assumes the thing shouldn't be leaking. “Derek!” he calls, rushing in.



The – he's gonna call it a wolf and make things simpler – turns his head towards him for an instant of acknowledgment, and they're off fighting side by side. Stiles manages to jab his bladed staff in the back of the thing's knee and it howls in pain. He has half a second to smirk, before he realizes hiss weapon is stuck and he just managed to make the inmate more pissed off. He gets backhanded away angrily – again – and the only bright side to it is that he held on to his weapon so tight that it came loose with him. Derek snarls and goes for the wounded knee, slashing repeatedly.



Stiles wants to tell him to watch out, but Derek seems intent to stay in harms way to keep clawing away until it does down. Winded, Stiles pushes off the floor and his shoulder protests nastily. Great. He's going to be all black and blue if he ever makes it out. The good thing is, it's the same arm he got slashed earlier, and it's not his strongest one.



He's already running back towards the fight when Derek gets hit. Uppercut straight in the face and chest. He lets out a cry and actually flies off the ground. Stiles knows he would be dead if he'd taken that blow, but Derek yips and whimpers when he lands, disoriented, but conscious.



“No!!” Stiles growls loudly, as the thing looks about to march onto Derek and punch him into the ground. They're lucky these twins aren't brilliant masterminds, but their brutal force is deadly in hand to hand.



Stiles runs like he never has before, taking a long drag of air into lungs. “Sh...” A by stander could think he was swearing, but the quiet hiss goes on and on. Derek is sprawled on the floor, looking past the thing at Stiles when he starts running in an upward spiral. On air.



He runs the last few steps lifting his knees as high as he can, as if he was doing suicide runs on invisible bleachers. Before his breath runs out, he manages to get his feet higher than the thing's head. While it's still disoriented and looking for him, Stiles tilts his staff so the deadly side points down, jumps up, stops hissing and dives.



The blade sinks into the thing's neck easily, then he hears cracks as it breaks through tendons and bones. They both fall, Stiles making a sound to catch himself. One leg down, foot kicked out, the other folded for – more or less – trajectory control. He falls on his knees to the grass, one hand hitting the floor hard to prevent himself from eating grass. “More like 'stink up the landing'...” he mutters to himself, then looks up as the inhuman weight collapses next to him.



His staff is speared right through the giant, from the back of the neck through the chest and it's sticking out between ribs.



His head spins with adrenaline. He feels his body bubble with laughter and energy, high on the rush and the avoided danger. He shakes his head to clear it.



He looks back at Derek, he's wincing through the change. Suddenly, on fair human skin, the amount of blood is a lot more visible and scarier. There's a large gash on his chest with wood splinters in it, his brow is bleeding and the apple of his cheek has taken a mean hit that left the flesh bruised and the skin raw. “Are you okay?!”



Judging by the way Derek is staring at him when he rushes over, he mustn’t be too severely hit. Either that or he's brain damaged. Which really isn't something Stiles shouldn't be thinking about right now.



“You ran.” Derek said. “On air.”



“On sound.” Stiles clarifies, ducking his head. “I can make solid-...”



“Of course it would be your fucking mouth.” Derek says, his fingers reaching up to touch it. “Your goddamn mouth, you never-...”



Stiles thinks – Fuck it. – and kisses him.



It's gross, and it hurts, because his nose is bleeding and his upper lip is cracked so bad that it stings enough to make his eyes tear up. But it isn't why Stiles moans. Well, it's part of it, but it's definitely not the reason why it sounds torn from his chest.



If Derek had a shirt – holy shit, Derek doesn't have a shirt on!! – Stiles' hand would likely be fisted in it, instead, it's touching Derek's neck where he thinks he hasn't seen blood. He's pretty sure it's going to get yanked away in a second when he feels Derek shifting and fingers grazing the heel of his hand.



An explosion downhill has him scrambling backwards, falling on his ass and his hand flying for his com. “Everybody okay?!”



Stiles swallows thickly, meeting Derek's worried eyes, before Peter calls back. “Everyone fine! Situation contained. Stiles?”



“We're fine. The... thing over there is... It looks dead.” Stiles says, looking over.



“No heartbeat.” Derek says, getting up. Oh, right. Mostly naked.



“Derek says it's dead,” he relays over the coms in a strangled voice.



“Okay. Get back.”



“On our way.” Stiles flinches at the squelching sound of Derek pulling his staff out of the body. It's repairable, he thinks.



He comes closer, putting up a gps tag for the retrieval team. The thing looks weirder now that he can see it from up close. It would be really cool if it hadn't tried to reduce all his friends to mush. He plants the tag and straightens up.



He's got his mouth open, about to ask if Derek's ready to go – about to ignore anything and everything off protocol that could have transpired recently – when he finds Derek staring at him. Clearly, he doesn't intend to give Stiles an easy out. Oh, shit.



Stiles scrambles backwards when Derek walks closer. “No, no, no, no, no...” he mutters in a panic, and Derek's step stutter, hitting invisible walls that collapse between Stiles words.



Derek huffs in anger and frustration. “I'm not gonna hurt you!”



“You're not?” Stiles hiccups. “I just-... I-...” kissed you. He just kiss raped Derek Hale. Nephew of a professor and board member at BHA. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.



“I didn't exactly stop you, did I?” Derek says, taking one last cautious step forward, coming into normal conversation distance. What?



Stiles stares at him. What did he- He-... What?



Derek keeps holding his gaze and give him a small grin. The kind of grin his mom used to give him sometimes just before she called him a dummy.



“Huh.”



Derek looks past him. “We should head back.”



“Right. Yeah. We should. Totally.” He looks down the cliff at a small lake and his thoughts turn wicked.















@@@








“What are you doing?” Derek asks, already started downhill, when he notices Stiles has edged closer to the cliff and isn't following.



“Do you trust me?”



“Uh...”



Right. Not necessarily a good question to ask right now. He turns and faces Derek. “Can you hold on to me?” he asks. “Cause I sure as hell can't carry you on my own.”



“... what?” Derek looks confused as hell, but he's walking back.



“You gave me a demo. And then I saw you in action.” Stiles glances back at the body they're leaving behind. “Maybe I owe you one.”



Derek looks at him, then glances in the void beside them. “Or maybe you just want to jump off a cliff.”



Stiles shrugs a shoulder, fighting a grin. “Maybe.”

Derek steps closer to the edge and looks down with a hint of worry on his face.



“I can go alone, if you want. I just-...” Stiles rocks on his heels. “I'm still a little crazed from all the action...” Derek lifts an eyebrow at him. “The battlefield action. Mind off the gutter, mister. That's my territory.”



“Mh hm.” Derek looks down again and sighs. “Fine. I can pull my weight. What are you thinking?”



Stiles knows Derek can hear his heart pick up in excitement. He wasn't sure if he would go for it if Derek had declined and he's glad he doesn't have to make that decision. “Hold on to me?”



Stiles toes the edge and Derek comes closer, hovering. “How?”



“Arm around my hips.”



“Huh?”



“So you won't hurt me, for one.” Stiles demonstrates by digging the tips of his fingers into his belly. “And I kinda need to breathe for this whole sound thing to come out.”



“Right.”



Adrenaline makes Stiles do stupid things. Like ask Derek to spoon him before jumping off a cliff. He tries not to over-think it now that it's too late. “Okay, so, when I say jump, push forward. Far. We're gonna go down, like base jumping, you don't wanna hit the rocks.”



“You're very comforting.” Derek mutters behind him, and his breath is warm and wet in his neck. Stiles swallows.



“And go!”















@@@








As much as Stiles has always been deadly terrified of stepping out into uncharted territory, he's never associated the panic it brings on with free falling. Because free falling? Is awesome!



It only lasts for a couple of seconds, but it's exhilarating. Stiles has had a lifetime's supply of exhilaration in one day and he's drunk on it. He palms Derek's forearm to check that he's holding on – although he can feel how close together they're pressed – and starts humming.



The jolt of catching Derek's weight makes him grunt. They jostle in the air when the sound cutting off makes them drop freely again. Stiles resumes humming, and this time they land less heavily. Derek yelps and holds on tighter. Stiles resists the giggles bubbling up because they would interrupt his steady stream of sound again and he doesn't want to scare Derek for life.



The weight of Derek around his pelvis is uncomfortable and edging on painful with the utility belt digging in, but he doesn't care. It's foolish and childish and totally awesome. It's also a fascinating experience. His ability is mysterious. He could stop Derek from approaching him, but right now, he's the only one feeling the imaginary bobsleigh tracks they're racing down on, and Derek is hanging off him in the air pretty much like Stiles is flying. He'll have to talk to Deaton about that. Maybe he'll have an explanation after he's done yelling at Stiles for experimenting on the battlefield.



What was that Peter said about Stiles not being reckless?



“Holy shit...” Derek is hissing as they whiz by treetops. “Holy shit, Stiles!”



Stiles smiles goofily, because as much as the first one sounded mildly intimidated and uncomfortable, the second exclamation might as well have been 'this is so cool, man!'.



He doesn't tear his eyes away from the sight – even though they're watering from the wind – and feels for Derek's hand. He's got both forearms flat on Stiles' pelvis, and he grabs back when Stiles' fingers reach him. Stiles squeezes a warning, and he stops humming to take a deep breath.



Derek gasps again, but he doesn't tense up against him, just catches himself – more smoothly this time – when Stiles starts making sound. They're going to reach the lake soon, so Stiles makes them take a swift turn to slow down, digging his heel as hard as he can. Damn, someone else's weight makes a lot of difference. His last sound is a long winded “wooooohooooo!!” that has Derek laughing.



Instinctively, Derek lets go a second before they hit the water so they don't crash into each other.



The water landing would definitely have been smoother if Stiles had anticipated the weight shift. He gets water up his nose and swallows a good gulp of it, comes out coughing and laughing, breathless from the slide. Next to him, Derek comes up and shakes the water out of his hair. He looks ridiculous. Also, shirtless and wet and... ooh, Stiles realizes lake water into a wound probably isn't the best thing. It looks like it's already healing, though. Damn supermen.



Stiles climbs out on all fours, his gear soaked and heavy. He tries not to focus on Derek's clothes when he walks to shore. What's left of the tear-away pants look like black denim swimming trunks, with stretchy fabric on the side to contain the shift.



Derek slips on something and grabs Stiles' outstretched hand for his last step onto the grass. “Okay,” he says, huffing water off his upper lip and staring up at where they came from. “This was positively cool.” He states, then looks back at Stiles. “But I'm never doing it again.”



Stiles laughs. He still is when the rest of the team comes running in – Scott is at normal speed, so they probably weren't that worried.



“How the hell did you get here?!” Jackson says.



Derek eyes his uncle and points at Stiles. “He did it.”










13. Epilogue





“You made it swallow a grenade?!” Stiles squeaks, shivering under the blanket thrown over his shoulders.



Mindy gives him a look and mimics his tone. “You went medieval on it?!”



Stiles shrugs. “Joss Whedon is my inspiration for many things.”



She snorts, but Scott is grinning. So what if they're nerds? Nerds are in. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Derek walk back towards them with his pants back on and resists the urge to ask him where they were all this time. He reaches the group and sits down beside Stiles.



“You're not cold?” Stiles asks.



Derek looks down at his chest and makes a face at the wound, there's a small trail of blood on one corner. “I didn't really feel like a shirt.”



“Let me radio in our healer.” Ed offers.



“Oh, that's handy.” Stiles says, tonguing his split lip.



“Stop it.” Scott tells him, sounding hilariously like Melissa.



“The others are coming in. The choppers are picking us up here.” Jackson announces, arriving with Boyd. “Isaac's being healed. He's with them.”



“Thank fuck.” Scott whispers.



“We're okay.” Mindy states, like she's testing it out loud. “We made it.”



“The Squadron's got casualties. But none BHA.” Peter says, coming and squeezing Stiles' shoulder. “Thanks for having Derek's back.”



“I'm thinking of becoming a teacher.” Stiles blurts out, and both Hales burst into laughter.



Derek eyes him and elbows him gently. “You saved my ass out there.” He pauses. Stiles ignores the baffled look on Jackson's face. Scott is grinning proudly. “Granted, you then scared the hell out of me, but...”



“Derek's afraid of heights.” Peter adds in, and his nephew glares.



Stiles jumps, mortified. “You should have told me!”



“What?” Boyd is saying.



“I didn't.” Derek reminds him. “Moving on.”



“Are we done showing off for today, Stiles?” Peter asks, usual devious grin back in place.



Stiles blushes, aware that it may be what he's been doing. “... think I'm good.”



“I could use a shower.” Derek muses.



“A scalding hot one.” Boyd purrs dreamily. Peter smirks.



“Fuck, yeah.” Stiles says, shaken by a full bodied shiver. He definitely isn't protesting when both Scott and Derek press into his sides.



Shouts come from somewhere over the trees. Stiles knows it's a patchwork of clearings and woods around here. “They're here.” Peter announces, and walks off, gesturing for them to follow.



Stiles spends the entire way hating his shoes. How comes they're making squishy sounds every time he takes a step and Derek's don't? He needs to rethink going for a swim in his gear.



Scott takes off speed-running when he sees Allison ahead of them. She seems to have a gash on her forehead to match Derek's. Stiles smirks. Everybody looks fine besides cuts and bruises. They look badass. They were badass today.



He thinks about Finstock and chocolate fudge and things that come in the future. He smiles and suddenly he doesn't give a fuck about his boots.



Derek stops just before they step out into the clearing. Stiles looks back questioningly.



“Just so we're clear.” Derek says, and, grabbing the cover around Stiles' shoulders with both hands, he pushes him back into a tree and kisses him.



Stiles makes an embarrassing sound, but Derek is groaning into his mouth and it really doesn't matter. He scrambles to free his hands from under the rough fabric and manages to lift one arm. One hand finds Derek's side, skin cold and barely dry, the other slides into wet hair and Stiles' knees go weak. This waking dream is pretty nice.



He's very thankful for the support of the tree when Derek's tongue meets his. His hand tightens convulsively in Derek's hair and Derek moans. After a moment, he pulls away and huffs, licking his lips and pressing his forehead to Stiles'.



Stiles pants. Holy hell. That was almost worth all the pining he's been doing.



Derek pulls back, meets his eyes, and lifts an eyebrow.



“Y-... okay. We're... clear.” Stiles blinks. Derek's eyes flick to his lips. “You know, I didn't think I could be more in a hurry to get back to school.”



Derek grins, shaking himself into composure. “Let's go.”



Stiles is very glad he's got a heavy woolen cover to wrap around himself and hide how much he'd been involved in that kiss. Granted, he's wearing heavy duty military gear, but he's pretty sure he'd be busted anyway. He doesn't look to check, but he's pretty sure Derek, being older, has a little more control than he does.



Although, it would be really cool if he didn't.



Still not checking.















@@@








Survival has made everybody a lot more tactile and uninhibited than the prospect of death. He can count two more couples that he hadn't known about before. If Erica and Boyd hadn't been official, they clearly are now. Just looking at them makes Stiles wants to grab a hose.



Then again. Were he a little more shameless, he'd be pulling Derek back into the woods himself. From afar, he can see Derek clapping Isaac's shoulder, and Lydia inspecting Jackson for any injuries the healer could have missed.



Apparently, cousins don't get gutted for hugging Mindy. Stiles watches as Lydia and the youngest of them all stay wrapped in each other a long time, speaking quietly to each other. Jackson even gets away with giving Hit Girl a brief squeeze, because he takes her by surprise after his girlfriend mollified the firecracker.



“Hold still,” aforementioned healer says. She's sweet. He tries for her. He even spares her his usual ramble about ADHD and how it's not even near the realm of possibilities.



Then again, they're people with superpowers and he just made out with Derek Hale, so maybe he should readjust his definition of possible.



It's a singular sensation to feel energy from her seep into his body, and have it mend itself. From the tips of her fingers on his forehead, he can feel warmth spread, whirl and gather. His nose stops being painful and his hair stand on end at the sensation of the cut in his lip shrinking back and closing. It's like feeling it being torn slowly, but backwards. It's not painful, but... mentally upsetting. Next, she works on his arm. A simple touch has the gash close over, and he grinds his teeth together at the sensation of his shoulder popping back in.



She tuts him when he tries to move away as she removes her hand. “We're not done, cutie. Not by a long shot. Unless to want this rib to be set by surgery.”



“My rib?”



His eyes widen when she lifts his shirt and he finds his side has become one big bruise. Sure, he expected something like that tomorrow, but not so soon. She places her hand there, just touching with her fingertips again. “Ha!” he lets out quietly when the rib pops back. “Holy shit.”



She smiles, puts one knee on the floor and lifts his pant leg. There doesn't seem to be anything broken there, and her touch just spreads to ease tension and heal contusions. He feels his hurting muscles relax their presence fade away from immediate consciousness.



“There you go.” She says, extending her hand to him with a smile. Confused, not used to left-handed handshakes, he reaches out awkwardly, and yelps when he feels something snap back into place.



“You tricked me!” he accuses.



“Metacarpals sometimes aren't felt, but they become a world of trouble.”



Stiles nods and looks in her eyes. “Thank you.”



Her smile is bright and surprised. “You're welcome. You can go now, I promise no more surprises. From me, anyway.”



He chuckles and saunters off, feeling less battered, although just as bone weary as he was when he got here.















@@@








Mindy shakes his hand with a warm expression, and declares him kick ass. Coming from the person nicknamed Hit Girl, he thinks he can live with the compliment.



He makes a point to crush Isaac in his arms for the scare he gave the alpha team.



He gets a hug from practically all of the other girls he knows. Which is nice.



He really needs to write down all that's happened today so he doesn't forget anything, because almost getting killed, showing his power to someone, kicking some major ass, kissing Derek, jumping off a cliff, Derek kissing him, being hugged by Allison, Erica and Lydia is starting to be a big much.



Lydia lingers and doesn't move on to the next person she's happy is safe. It seems she's saved Stiles for last. It fills him with a sense of foreboding that increases when she gives one of her patented I-own-you smile and beckons Derek over.



The older boy obliges, looking better without blood on his face. “Hey. Welcome back to civilization.” Stiles says, hoping to sound less awkward than he feels. He doesn't know what to make of this, whatever it is between them, yet, and doesn't know how to act around Derek without making him uncomfortable. He does that, make people uncomfortable. Right now, though, Derek simply looks puzzled, so Stiles reaches out, pinching the shirt that is now covering his torso between two fingers, and tugs.



“Oh. Right.” Derek shrugs. “I'll call myself civilized again once I'm showered and fed. I think I'll have to wait a little longer for that.”



Stiles frowns. They're expecting the choppers any moment.



“So!” Lydia interrupts. “A lot's happened today, what with all the 'oh my god we're going to die!' and 'oh my god we didn't!', but you two definitely win the hot new couple title.”



Stiles panics. Derek didn't try to make it a secret that he was hanging and talking to Lose-inski, but he may not want to-...



“Do not even try to pretend you two weren't just making out two minutes ago.”



Stiles blinks, not daring to look at Derek and wishing for something to happen. Heck, even for a forgotten crazed escapee to charge them. “I'll take the fifth,” he blurts out, which, all in all, answers the question anyway.



“Pshh, you got stubble burn, honey.” Stiles pinks.



Lydia is looking at Derek now. “He likes you very much, you know?”



“Oh my god, Lydia! Shut up!” Stiles hides his face and turns to walk off, but Derek's hand on his arm stops him. He stays, and Derek's fingers slip down to squeeze his wrist briefly. He misses the touch when it falls away, and finds himself swaying closer to him involuntarily. Derek seems to take it as encouragement and brushes a hand against the small of his back.



“Take good care of him.” Lydia continues, eyes tracking their movements before she looks back at Derek. “Because he's my friend and I love him,” she says to Stiles. He's momentarily stunned quiet. “And because he's a genius, and he if you hurt him....” Stiles cringes. “He probably knows how to make a body disappear completely. And I'll cover for his thoughts even if he's guilty.” Derek's thumb stills against his spine for a beat.



Stiles feels oddly touched. It takes a real friend to help you cover up a murder. “Oh. Uh. Thanks, I think.”



“You're welcome.” She beams and presses a kiss to his cheek. “I'll go tell Jax that we're going double next Friday.”



They exchange a look as she trots off towards her boyfriend, who's in deep reenactment with Scott and Isaac. “We're not your boyfriends!” Stiles yells after her as an afterthought.



“Huh?”



“She just booked us for a double date, Derek. I mean, Jackson, I get, but she can't-...”



Derek shifts feet, touch falling away with the movement. “Are you not okay with this?”



“What? No, I-...” Stiles shakes his head. “Dude, hell no. Put your hands back on me.” He ignores how it sounds because what came out is exactly what he meant. “I just thought... maybe you weren't.” He says, showing his pit of self doubt and insecurity. “But hey, I was just saying Lydia shouldn't commandeer my Friday nights. It looks like I have a boyfriend of my own now. Maybe I want my dates to be only with him for a while.”



Derek smirks, eyes amused. “Boyfriend, huh?”



“I know. It's lame, but-...” Stiles trails off when Derek's fingers card through his hair at the back of his head and starts scratching.



“I like it,” he says in Stiles hair after Stiles stumbles forward and rests his head against his collarbone.



If he were anything like Erica, he'd be purring right now. “If you keep doing that, I'm going to start drooling.” Or maybe, with a little less audience, possibly hump his leg.



“We seem to have the same soft spot.” Derek states.



“Oh, yeah.” Stiles remembers, a smug smile stretching his lips against Derek's shirt.



They stay like that a moment, while the remaining of the injured get treated. – Man, that healer girl could make millions as a magic healer. – Stiles didn't think he'd be the kind to be into PDA, but today seems to be special for all of them. It might fade in the future if this thing last, with familiarity and self control, but he's been touch starved for so long – and thinking about it, Derek must have been too – he could stay like that until someone comes to carry them off on a stretcher back to the dorms.



Peter comes to tell them the choppers are on their way. Stiles pushes off of where he was about to dose off on Derek's shoulder. Peter doesn't hide his leer but doesn't comment, only delivers the news, pauses, and adds that he's glad everybody made it back. “I'm proud of you two. You fought well, both alone and within teams.” He shrugs and grins. “I'm not supposed to do anything with this but... they won't actually know if I bump up your grade, won't they?”



“Please don't.” Stiles says.



“Maybe, just-...” Derek intervenes. “No more trick assignments?”



Peter laughs. “Please, look at you.” He gestures to the lack of space between them. “I'm a genius!”



Derek ducks his head and huffs in laughter. They watch him go, joining the rest of the adults, both Squadron and BHA, until Derek tenses and pulls away from Stiles. “I gotta-...” Derek explains as he starts towards the group, and looks back towards Stiles. “Come on.”



Stiles follows, puzzled. He catches sight of Danny giving him two thumbs up and blushes. Then smirks when he notices a certain look of longing on Isaac, who's standing near the tanned boy. Stiles enjoys the look of confusion on the-boy-who-walks-through-walls' face when he returns the gesture. Isaac, though, understands, and scampers away quickly. What a day.



Derek stops when he reaches the teachers. He turns towards Sergeant Parker. “Hey. I heard Squadron 84 is around earlier. Are they still nearby?”



Peter turns to them and gives a smirk that rivals with Lydia's. “Indeed, Derek. Why? Is there anything particular you'd want with-...”



“Oh, shut up.” Derek growls good naturadely at his uncle. Peter laughs. “Got someone to see. Can that be arranged?”



Something that Stiles is still missing seems to dawn on the Serg. “Yeah. No problem. I'll have Wu pop you in and back to school.”



“It's not too much trouble, is it?”



“You did us a great service today. Least we can do.”



“Cool, can we make a pit stop to Rome on the way?” Stiles pipes up. “I hear the ice cream is different over there.”



Deaton and Parker laugh.



Stiles grins. “Fine. Maybe next time.”



While Parker radios in Wu – who must be the special that has teleportation skills – and Squadron 84 for position, Derek steps close to Stiles' back and slips his hands around his waist, pressing his nose and mouth in the still wet tangle of Stiles' hair. It's pretty intimate and it's also a way to whisper something to someone without looking like you're doing so. With the added bonus of not looking into their eyes if you didn't like the reaction. “Wanna com with me?” Derek asks quietly. “She'd love you.”



Stiles knows Derek can hear his heart stutter at the realization and he implication.



Laura. He's going to see Laura? This is gr-... and he invited Stiles to come along?!



But... “Are you sure you want me here for this?” He has to ask. As excited – and alright, intimidated – as he is at the prospect of Derek being comfortable enough to introduce him to his sister, they've touched on the subject of her and Derek's history and he knows it's loaded.



“I am.” Derek assures him, squeezing a little. Stiles doesn't want to assume anything, but part of him wonders if Derek wants him there for comfort in case it doesn't go well or to give him courage. “But you don't have to.” Derek insists.



“Shush.” Stiles leans back against his – boyfriend's !! – chest. “If you want me there, you know I'm coming. I'm the cat curiosity hasn't caught up with, yet.”



It's a new sensation to feel someone laugh against his back. He could definitely get used to it















@@@








As soon as they get to the base camp, whatever spell they were under wears off and Derek's hands stop being so greedy. Whatever buzz of energy was going through all of them back on the field, it seems unreal now. Sometime later tonight, it's going to sink in properly, hit Stiles full force. What happened, what could have happened, everything will come crashing down on him and leave him a shaking mess. But now...



Now Stiles was just zapped somewhere else and it's like everything has been put on hold. He has tunel vision. He's here with Derek and they're going to see his sister. There is no time for 'earlier' or for processing.



Stiles can tell how nervous Derek and isn't sure what he can do about it. He settles for walking alongside him and shutting up, that alone taking a great deal of concentration. Both because it's not in his nature and because they're surrounded by novelty.



He watches some guy toast a slice of bread by hovering his hand above it and has to bite his tongue to keep from pointing it out. He'll definitely tell Scott about it later. He takes in people and their uniforms, guessing ranks and imagining powers according to modifications from standard like Peter and Derek's gear have.



When they arrive to a cross-path, Derek gestures to someone. “Staff Sergeant Hale?” he asks.



“Uh...” The guy seems confused to be talking to two kids. He's so unsettled that he forgets to ask what their business is or how they got here, probably trusting that they are even allowed here based on their uniform, and simply gestures them to a prefab station ahead of them.



Derek starts up again, but his pace is slower. He was stalking through the compound earlier, as if he was in a hurry or afraid he would change his mind, and now it's like the short halt has had enough time to have that effect. Stiles inches closer silently, making sure their shoulders brush a couple of times. Derek gives him a sidelong glance of acknowledgment.



They're here. The door is right there, and they're standing in front of it irresolutely. Derek raises his fist to knock then falters, letting it hover and fall back. “I haven't seen her in almost a year,” he tells Stiles with a frown that is both guilty and angry. Then he shrugs – shakes himself out of it? – and meets Stiles' eye with a look in them he's never shown before. “I'm so glad to be here.”



Stiles can't help the burst of warmth and feelings that rise like a tide into him, it spreads to his face in a smile. He reaches out gently, wrapping the ends of his fingers around the outside of Derek's hand as they stand facing each other. He squeezes encouragingly.



As he's about to step back and let go, Derek closes his hand and tugs him forward, locking their lips together. Stiles feels him move and his eyebrows shoot up – despite his eyes being unable to open, because, damn, Derek's mouth – when he hears a knock. Derek just knocked. And now brings his hand back to cup Stiles' face briefly and pulls away, leaving the teenager to gape and startle when the door almost instantly swings open.



The woman in uniform is a brunette, and her eyes are so blue there is no doubt on her identity, especially when they fall on Derek and she breaks into the most brilliant smile. “Der, hi! They radioed in that you were coming but I couldn't believe it until I saw you. Oh my god, look at you!” She beams, stepping down and placing her hands on his shoulders. Stiles thinks Derek blushes prettily.



“Hi.” He responds quietly and Laura eyes Stiles curiously. “Uh, this is Stiles. Stiles, this is Laura. My big sister.”



Stiles offers a polite greeting, which is returned with a frank smile and a warm handshake. Laura takes him in before her eyes dart back to Derek.



“I'm sorry but... Come here, baby bro.” She says, turning away from Stiles to pull her adorably scared looking brother into a bear hug. Knowing what he knows about the Hale genes, Stiles is pretty sure the embrace could literally crush bones. “I don't care if I'm being embarrassing. I missed you too much.”



Derek's face is conflicted for a moment, before he closes his eyes with a creased brow and presses the side of his head to his sister's, hugging back forcefully. “Missed you too,” he mutters.



He can't really look at Stiles' smile for too long. It's so full of warmth and pride and incredulous happiness, it feels like staring into the sun. Then again, Derek feels like he has been for a while.




---

So, um... get it now? In chapter Eight, Scott finding out about Stiles' ability and singing Some Nights, by Fun. ?
I know. I'm a huge dork. But so's Scott. ;)