Chapter Text
Stiles woke up the next morning with a warm weight on his chest and breath tickling his ears. For a second, he had the bleary thought that he had finally got someone to sleep with him before he opened his eyes and came face to face with Derek, who was panting down at him. He tried to turn back over when he noticed that is was barely light outside. “Oh my god, you’re not allowed to be an early bird when you’re sleeping in my room.” He groaned, and Derek barked, jumping off of the bed and standing at the door.
“What do you want?” Stiles asked, and Derek barked again, pawing the door. “Do you want out?” Derek nodded. “Can you wait five minutes or do you have to go to the bathroom or something?” A bark. Stiles sighed. “Awesome. Hold it for two seconds and let me put shoes on.”
Derek led Stiles downstairs, where his dad was already sitting at the breakfast table. He raised an eyebrow at Stiles as he trudged through the kitchen, opening the door for Derek to run out into the backyard. “He’s a good alarm clock, I’ll give him that.” The sheriff said as Stiles grabbed the cereal from the pantry.
“He’s a pain in the ass.” he huffed, slamming the box on the table just as Derek began scratching at the door again. Stiles let him back in, and he plodded into the house with his head held high, like he owned the place. Stiles snorted, unable to imagine normal-Derek acting with that much confidence, and ruffled his fur. Derek snorted and flicked him with his tail as he passed. “I swear to god you’re more cat than canine.” Stiles laughed, and his dad rolled his eyes.
“I’ve got the early shift today,” he said. “Won’t be back until about four-ish. You gonna be okay here?”
“No, I’m going to throw a wild party and raze the whole block.” Stiles joked. “Of course I’ll be fine, dad. I’m probably going to hang out with Lydia later, get some studying done.” His dad raised an eyebrow and Stiles nearly choked on his cereal. “Not that kind of studying, dad, oh my god!” Derek growled, and Stiles spared a look at him. “Shut up.”
His dad rolled his eyes again and got up, putting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “See you later,” he said, and Stiles nodded, mouth full of food. “Love you.” “Love you, too!” Stiles called as he heard the door close. He waited until he heard the cruiser drive away to get up, putting his bowl in the sink and going up to his room. He checked his phone quickly and found a text from Lydia saying simply Bring books and explanation. and sighed, grabbing the books and heading back downstairs. Derek was waiting on the last step, head cocked in confusion. “I’m going to Lydia’s.” Stiles said. “And I’m dropping you off with Scott.” Derek whined, and Stiles just shook his head.
“No, no, your puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work on me. I’ve dealt with Scott’s and with Isaac’s and yours aren’t any better. You’re going to Scott’s because I am not leaving you here alone until you have opposable thumbs and can use a toilet.”
He grabbed Derek by the scruff of the neck and Derek threw his head around trying to shake him off. “No, no, no, no, Derek stop that, I am not dealing with you right now. I’m trying to help you.” Derek snarled at him, and Stiles let go.
“You know what?” he spat. “Just forget it. You can stay like this if you want to; I’m just trying to help you get back to normal. I’m always trying to help you, and do you know what I get? Nothing! I get assaulted by you and your little packlings, and pushed into walls, and treated like the weakest link. I have saved your sorry ass so many times, and I think I deserve a little respect for that. Now, you’re either going to get into the car, and go to Scott’s like a good doggie- because that is what you are right now- or you can get out of here right now. Which will it be?” Derek looked up at him, eyes wide, like he wanted to say something (but, obviously, he couldn’t.) but he settled for snorting- almost sighing- and walking towards the door, head drooped. Stiles smirked, triumphant. “That’s what I thought.”
Derek was more reluctant to jump into the Jeep this time, and Stiles almost said “screw it” and left him there, but he jumped in just as he started the car, leaning across the console and laying his head in Stiles’ lap. The gesture read to Stiles as a “sorry”, and he smiled down at Derek, ruffling his fur.
“It’s okay,” he sighed. “But, seriously, I’m just trying to help. You’ll only be at Scott’s until I finish up with Lydia, and then I promise I’ll come back and get you, okay?” Derek nodded, and Stiles scratched behind his ears. “Good. God, I wish you were this easy to communicate with when you were a human. I’d tell you to take notes, but you can’t hold a pen.” Derek snorted and moved back to the passenger side.
Melissa answered the door when Stiles got there, Derek at his heels. She took one look at the wolf, and sighed. “Is that...?” she asked, and Stiles nodded.
“Derek pissed off a witch.” Stiles explained, and Ms. McCall shook her head.
“Of course he did. And, you’re bringing him here why?”
“I’m going over to Lydia’s to see if she can help me translate some stuff so I can fix it, but I don’t think she would appreciate me bringing him, and I can’t leave him at home, so-”
“You thought that here would be best.” Melissa nodded. “He can stay until you’re finished.” Stiles grinned.
“Thank you! He’s housetrained, I swear!” Derek looked up at him with narrowed eyes, and Stiles just scratched behind his ears as he walked off.
He got to Lydia’s a few minutes later, and she opened the door, greeting him with: “What have you done this time, Stilinksi?”
“Lydia, darling, light of my life, how are you? It’s nice to see you, too.” Stiles huffed, feeling that “Undermine Stiles’ Awesome-ness” was becoming a theme today. “I need your help translating these books Deaton gave me because Derek’s got himself turned into a wolf.”
Lydia sighed, and began walking back towards her room. “I’m only helping you because there is literally nothing else to do today.” she said as Stiles followed. “And, I want a full explanation.”
Stiles sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed (it just went to show how weird his life had become that sitting on Lydia Martin’s bed had become a casual thing.) “It was a few days after the Kanima thing-”
“Okay, this isn’t the intro to a novel, just get to the good part.” Lydia cut in, and Stiles almost rolled his eyes.
“Okay, we were in the woods tracking down a witch that had been infringing on the pack’s territory. Derek politely asked her to leave, which obviously didn’t work because it never does, so we fought with her, and she called Derek a incompetent Alpha, which, hey, fair, and he got all insulted and said ‘even the most incompetent of Alpha could combat such a useless hedge witch’ and she got pissed and muttered what was probably some curse at him and ran off.”
“After we got back, Derek complained that he was itchy and had to go check the borders or something, and he ran off into the woods, and the next morning he appeared in my yard, and he was a wolf. So, we- Scott and I, that is- took him to Deaton who gave us these books, but they’re in Latin, and I can’t translate all of this shit on my own, so, here we are. All full circle-y.”
Lydia nodded, sitting down next to him. “Okay. Let’s get started then.”
They each took a book and began reading, Stiles occasionally (read: almost every other second) asking Lydia if this word or that translated into word a or word b, to the point that she just took the book from him and read aloud. By hour number two, they’d learned how to get rid of demons, pixies, and kappas, summon at least five different nature spirits (which they both agreed that they would never do ever because that would so end badly, no matter how cool it would be), and found the brewing instructions for a cure for boils, but had come up empty on how to fix Derek. The first book had been some sort of magical pest control guide, and the second a potion book, so Stiles was pinning all his hopes on book number three.
“Okay, this sounds helpful,” Lydia said for the ninety-seventh time that day. “’Transfiguration Spell- Lycanthrope to Lupine.’” Stiles shot up where he was laying on the floor. “‘This spell transforms a lycanthrope (werewolf) into their wild ancestor. The spell…” Lydia frowned. “’The spell lasts two to nine days, and is irreversible during this time, bar lifting by the caster.’ And, I don’t think she’s going to be in a helpful mood. Hell, she’s probably skipped town by now.”
Stiles groaned and flopped back down on the floor. “Great. I have to have Derek the literal Big Bad Wolf living with me for the next week or so. Lydia, I’m going to have to buy him dog food soon! He will never forgive me if he has to eat dog food!”
“That,” Lydia said, pushing the book back at Stiles. “Is not my problem. Sorry, have fun with your new pet; don’t let him kill you in your sleep.” Stiles groaned again and stood, taking the rest of the books and walking out. “Tell me when something interesting happens!” she called, and Stiles made a non-committal noise back.
He got back into the Jeep, stopping by the McCall’s to pick up Derek, and finding him already waiting on the front porch. Scott sat beside him, and he stood when Stiles got out of the car. “He wouldn’t come inside,” he said, and Derek plodded over to Stiles to rub his head against his leg. Stiles absentmindedly reached down to pet him, and raised an eyebrow at Scott.
“It was totally weird,” Scott went on. “As soon as you left, he just turned around and sat on the front step like he was waiting for you to come back, like that one dog that would always wait at the train station for his owner to come home.”
Derek whined and bumped his head into Stiles’ hand, and Stiles turned his raised eyebrow onto him. “Is that so?” he hummed, and Derek snorted. “You’re weird- good weird, but definitely weird.”
Derek whined again, and began moving towards the Jeep, and Stiles waved at Scott. “Tell your mom I said thanks!” he said, getting back into the car. As they drove back to his house, he turned to Derek. “Okay, good news and bad news- good news: we know what’s causing this. It’s a transformation spell, but the bad news is that there’s nothing we can do to fix it.”
Derek’s eyes widened and he made a distressed noise, and Stiles sighed. “I know, I know, but there’s really not much we can do other than wait it out or go crawling off to find the witch who did this and beg her for a counter-curse, which I don’t think you want.”
Derek shook his head and snorted, laying his it on the console and looking like Stiles had just kicked him. “I’m sorry.” Stiles said, feeling like someone needed to say it. Derek had gone through so much shit in his lifetime- some of that shit being directly Stiles’ fault-, and now he was a fucking wolf on top of it, and he felt like there was something he should be able to do.
Derek picked his head up and looked at Stiles, cocking his head before nuzzling at his hand. Don’t be, the gesture said. It’s okay. Stiles took a hand off of the wheel, scratched behind his ears, and sighed.
“It’s going to be fine.” Stiles said quietly, more to himself than to Derek. “We’ll get through this.” Derek snorted and nosed at his hand again, and Stiles half smiled as he pulled into the driveway.
When he got into the house, his dad was not yet home, so he and Derek just plodded upstairs, both lying on the bed, Derek’s head in Stiles’ lap as he re-read the text he and Lydia had translated, determined to find something. He was so engrossed in his reading that he almost missed the knocking on his window, and Derek barking at the person in question. Stiles blinked at Isaac and got up, opening the window and letting the Beta jump through. Derek jumped at him, pawing his legs, and Isaac looked down at him, bewildered. “It looks like Scott wasn’t screwing with me.” he said, eyebrows quirked. He scratched Derek behind the ear and Derek nudged his hand before plodding back and sitting on the bed.
“He told you, then?” Stiles said, following and sitting down next to him. Isaac nodded, closing the window and sitting down in the chair at Stiles’ desk.
“I was getting worried, so, I asked him if he’d seen Derek around. So, he told me what was up and I decided to check it out for myself.”
Stiles nodded as he spoke and Derek rolled over, nearly falling off of the bed. Isaac barely held back a laugh. “How much trouble would I be in if I said you make an adorable dog?” he practically cooed, and Derek growled.
Isaac snorted. “Right, right, sorry. Forget I said anything.” He looked at Stiles. “Is there any way to fix this? I mean, as much as I love the irony of him being the literal alpha wolf, I don’t imagine he appreciates it as much.”
“It’s supposed to wear off on its own after a few days, nine at the most.” Stiles said. “There isn’t much we can do beyond waiting, other than asking the witch we were chasing to reverse it.”
“And owing a witch is not a position you want to be in.” Isaac said.
“Exactly, so, we’re waiting it out. Derek’s staying with me for a week, and then everything can go back to normal and he can be grumpy and maybe be slightly more emotive.” Derek’s growl was directed at him this time, but Stiles just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know you’re capable now, Big Bad, so don’t think you’re going to be able to get out of using your words anymore.”
“Technically he’s not using his words now.” Isaac said, but Stiles just waved away the comment.
“Irrelevant. He can’t get away with being emotionally constipated anymore is what I’m saying. He is physically capable of showing emotions and communicating as a canine , therefore, he is damn well capable of doing the same as a person, when he has more to work with, and, again words to use. ” Derek stood abruptly and bit him on the ankle, sending Stiles flailing off of the bed.
“What the hell, Derek!” he squeaked. Isaac was laughing so hard he almost fell into the floor himself. “Bad dog! Wolf! Oh my god, you’re still a werewolf , what if you broke skin? You could have just turned me, Derek, oh my god!”
“It was only a love bite.” Isaac said, wheezing. “Relax. He wouldn’t bite you in the ankle if he was going to turn you.” Stiles pulled up the pant leg, almost audibly sighing with relief when he saw that there was no blood—or, wound at all, really. He sat back on the bed, and thumped Derek in the nose.
“The next time you bite me,” he said gravely. “It better be with my consent because I’m dying a terrible horrible death and still need to save your sorry asses, got it?” Derek just stared at him, and Stiles decided to take it as an affirmative silence, lest he start having to lock his windows and keep wolfsbane under his pillow.
“Right, well,” Isaac said, standing. “I’m going to go tell Scott I owe him ten bucks, you two have a great time doing… this. I’ll tell you if anything happens on the preserve, Derek.” Derek nodded (or, made a motion that looked like it equated to nodding) and Isaac opened the window again, slipping back through. Stiles waited until he heard the thump of him hitting the ground before he got up and closed the window.
“So,” he said, going over to sit back down on the bed again. “What’s your stance on dog food?”
Derek narrowed his eyes.
“I’ll take that as a ‘rip your throat out with my teeth, then.” Stiles sighed, falling back onto his pillow and closing his eyes. “This is going to be the longest week ever, isn’t it?” Derek didn’t make a move to reply.