Chapter Text
As Stiles stared down the large black wolf standing in his back yard, he came to the conclusion that someone really needed to make a waiting period for new baddies to enter Beacon Hills. It had only been a few days since the Kanima showdown, and they’d already had to start chasing down a witch, along with having to train Jackson (because, even after being turned into a Teenage Mutant Killer Lizard, he still didn’t understand the Spider-Man “great power” thing and begged Derek to turn him. And Derek, who Stiles thinks is a little like Stitch, trying to make a family (no matter how twisted that family may be), did.) They found her a few days ago, and had the customary taunting and epic showdown (part one, of fucking course, because it can never just be hit-and-run with these things.) in which Derek got on her bad side, and disappeared not long after, complaining of an itch and running off into the woods.
Now, as Stiles kneeled down beside the animal, he also finds that he really should have seen this coming. “Derek?” he said slowly, and the wolf tilted it’s head in recognition. Great. “Oh my fucking god, how is this my life.” Stiles groaned, scrubbing a hand across his face. “You cannot do this to me right now, man; we’ve got shit to take care of!” The wolf- Derek- just looks at him, and Stiles can feel the are you fucking kidding me, Stiles radiating off of him. “Okay, okay, okay. So, I’m guessing the witch did this? That itch you felt, it was, like… an inner wolf thing.” Wolf-Derek doesn’t reply. Probably because he can’t, but it doesn’t keep Stiles from being frustrated. “Okay, this is bad. Super bad, but also kind of funny because oh my god you’re an actual wolf!” Derek glared at him. “Aw, don’t give me that look, Sourwolf. It’s not my fault you’re so adorable. Who’s the cutest Sourwolf? You are, oh yes you are!” Stiles cooed, scratching behind Derek’s ears, and Derek gave a half-hearted growl, rubbing his head against Stiles’ hand. “Ha. I like you better like this.” But Stiles also liked seeing Derek Hale on two legs, randomly stripping and pushing him against walls and generally making a wreck of his libido, so he stood up and shook his head. “But, I think that you don’t, right.” Derek made an attempt at a nod, or at least that’s what Stiles took it as; he could have had to sneeze or something. “Right, then, we’ll see what we can do. I’ll call Scott and Isaac and we can go to Deaton. Sound good?” Again, there was a sneeze-nod. “Okay. Come on, then; let’s get you into the house.” Stiles began walking, and Derek plodded after him, sniffing around as he went. Really, it wasn’t much different than when Derek usually came over. He sniffed, and he rubbed against things (mostly Stiles legs because he couldn’t make a full-frontal wall-pushing assault at his current size.) He paused at the front steps, moving up them slowly and looking proud when he got to the top. Stiles snorted, masking a laugh. “Good boy.” he said, and Derek glared at him again.
Stiles immediately headed to his room, looking back occasionally to see how Derek was faring on his way up the stairs. He was walking easily, but he still looked a little uncomfortable. Stiles chalked that up to his turning into a fucking wolf after being a relatively normal person for his entire life (oh, who was Stiles kidding; a horribly abnormal werewolf his entire life, but still human-shaped.) When they reached the wood-floored landing, Derek skittered and slid, and Stiles put a hand on the scruff of his neck to still him. “Easy there, Der.” he soothed when the wolf looked up at him. “It’s wood, dude; you’re gonna slip a little. It’s okay.” Derek still looked uncertain (but, really, Stiles wasn’t sure himself what uncertainty looked like on a wolf, so, again, it could be a sneeze.) “Here, come on. My room’s just a few more steps away, come on Derek, you can do it.” He felt a little silly leading Derek by the scruff to his room, petting his head as he went. Derek let out a low rumble, and nuzzled at Stiles’ leg again, shaking him off and jumping up onto the bed immediately after stepping into the room. He turned a few times, settling, and Stiles sighed before following him. He picked his phone up off of the nightstand and fired off a quick text to Scott: Found Derek. Things are a little weird. Don’t wanna explain here, come over.
He set his phone back down and stared at Derek again, and Derek stared back, head resting on his front paws. “Scott should be on his way over.” he said, and Derek gave a short whine, which Stiles interpreted as ‘okay.’ “Great, well, you do whatever it is wolf-Derek is supposed to do, unless that is pissing on my bed because, I swear to god, I will end you if you do that.”
If it was possible for a wolf to roll its eyes, Derek would have just done it. He instead just got up and resettled himself with his head resting on Stiles’ leg. “Right,” Stiles sighed. “You know, I kind of have things to do- homework, dishes- things that require me to get up? So, if you could… you know… not use me as a doggy pillow?” Derek snorted and nuzzled at his knee, and Stiles sighed again. “Okay, that’s a no. I’ll just lay here, then.”
Stiles didn’t remember falling asleep, but, he must have done it at some point, because he woke up sometime later to find Scott looming over him, staring confusedly at Derek. “… That’s not Derek.” he said when he noticed Stiles was awake. “That is a dog.”
“That is a wolf, and it is Derek.” Stiles said, sitting up best he could. Derek had fallen asleep, too, and he snuffled as Stiles moved. “Remember the witch we temporarily drove off?” Scott nodded. “And remember how she was pissed at Derek?” Scott nodded again. “And remember how Derek went off into the woods?” Another nod. “Well, ta-da! Actual Alpha Wolf, Derek Hale!” Derek blinked awake, looking up at Scott and narrowing his eyes. Scott shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.
“Er, hi, Derek.” He said, and Derek sniffed the air once, nodded, and rested his head back on Stiles’ leg.
“What are we going to do about… that?” Scott asked, and Stiles shrugged.
“Talk to Deaton? Do some research? Seems like a good start; it’s what we normally do and it hasn’t failed us yet.”
Scott nodded. “Sounds good; should we go now, then?”
Stiles nodded back, and nudged Derek. “Time to get up, Sourwolf; we’re gonna get you to Deaton and get you turned back, okay?”
Derek blinked at him before getting up and jumping from the bed, which Stiles took as a positive sign as he and Scott followed Derek downstairs and outside. Derek jumped eagerly into the passenger door when Scott opened it to get in himself, and Stiles only laughed at the scandalized expression Scott made. “You’re so rude.” he said, and Derek just cocked his head innocently in reply. Scott huffed and climbed into the backseat, crossing his arms like a petulant child as Stiles pulled out and began driving.
The first things that hit Stiles when he and Scott entered Deaton’s offices was the squalling symphony of various animals in the back. The doctor was currently working on a cat- or, attempting to, rather; the animal spooked as soon as it spotted Derek and ran off. Deaton sighed, giving them an exasperated look and the double taking at Derek. “What…”
“Long story, the gist of which being Derek pissed of a witch we ran off and now he’s a wolf.” Stiles said quickly. Deaton sighed again.
“Of course. Well, as you can see, I’m a bit swamped- which, by the way Scott, you need to go feed the budgie I have in the back, please; it’s driving me insane- I won’t be able to help much for a while. But, what I can do,” he said, walking out of the room, and coming back with an armful of books. He handed the off to Stiles. “Is give you these. They’re all in Latin, so you’ll have to translate, but they should help. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go fine Mittens before he pees on my floor again.” Deaton walked out, and Stiles huffed.
“Well, that was very helpful, as usual.” he muttered, turning to Scott. “I’m guessing I can’t count on you to help?”
Scott shook his head. “I’m officially working now; sorry, man.” Stiles sighed.
“Great. I’ll call Lydia, then.” he said, turning to leave. “Derek, come on.” he called when he looked back over his shoulder and found the Alpha in an intense staring competition with his reflection in the gleaming metal of Deaton’s table. He looked up at Stiles and whined, but followed anyway.
Once they were back at Stiles’ house, Stiles called Lydia, who, typical for a person who actually had a life didn’t answer. He settled for leaving a voice mail, and flopping back down onto his bed with a book, letting Derek lay on him again. “Alrighty, Der, let’s see what we can do for you.” he said, and Derek barked (happily, Stiles thought) and nuzzled at his leg. “You’re a real cuddler, you know that?” Stiles commented as he began reading. The Latin was complicated, and Stiles could only get snippets; Lydia would definitely have to help him with this one. Derek only snorted.
It was several hours later when Stiles heard a knock on his door, and jumped. “Uh,” he stuttered, Derek sitting up and perking up his ears.
“It’s me,” he dad called, and Stiles cursed. “You okay?”
“Yeah, um, let me just-” But his dad was already opening the door and his eyes widened at the sight of Derek.
“What the hell Stiles?” his dad asked, and Stiles winced.
“It’s… I found him in the backyard.” Stiles said, and John sighed.
“So you brought him into the house?”
“He was clean and well mannered.” Stiles protested, feeling like a total idiot for talking about Derek like this. “And I brought him to Deaton, and he said he was okay.”
“So you practically got a dog without asking me?” the Sheriff said, and Stiles shook his head.
“I’m not keeping him,” he backtracked. “He just needs somewhere to stay until Deaton can find a home. I just… volunteered us to house a wayward animal. And, look!” Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek and the Alpha stirred, looking at him. “Isn’t he cute?”
Derek seemed to understand that this was some sort of cue, and he barked happily and wriggled. Sheriff Stilinski softened.
“… Only until Deaton finds somewhere for him.” he conceded, and Stiles grinned.
“Thank you!” he said, and John sighed.
“Don’t make me regret it.” he called as he walked out, and Stiles fell back onto the bed.
“I have had to cover your ass way too many times.” he said to Derek, and the wolf gave his face a lick. Stiles wrinkled his nose. “Dude, did you just kiss me? You so just kissed me! I’m so using that when we turn you back!” Derek snorted and bumped his nose against Stiles’ cheek before settling back at the foot of the bed.
One relatively awkward dinner and a few more hours of fruitless attempts at translation later, Stiles called it a night and climbed under the covers, nudging Derek with his foot. “Night, Sourwolf.”
Derek barked in reply, and Stiles sleeps more soundly than he had in a long time.