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Stiles can feel it.
He guesses it’s his werewolf self, clawing in him, howling and overall being such an antsy fucker that has his attention span is shorter than usual.
Honestly, Stiles expected lycanthropy to cure his ADHD. Wrong. In all honesty it's just rendered his meds useless. So now, not only was he unusually spazzy, he was uncharacteristically angry half the time.
He nearly flipped on his dad yesterday for doing his laundry. His laundry. Thank whatever deity was looking out for him that his dad had left an hour previously.
His father was just coming to terms with mythical creatures. He was not ready to find out his own son was a werewolf. He was already on edge with all the murders, and the ever expanding body count, and Beacon Hills was still missing one petulant chemistry teacher. He's heard his dad muttering about it while going over case notes. He knows his dad is now worried about the monthly full moon.
Which was also on Stiles' lists of worries. He had dubbed it ‘Worry #1” in his head. It was also an unspoken worry of Derek's and Scott's pack. His first full moon. He had seen the looks exchanged between the two and caught snippets of the two conversing.
He knows there's been strain between himself and everyone else. He can feel everyone else walking on eggshells around him. He's the outsider now. He's not part of Derek or Scott's pack, technically. He's Deucalion's beta, who has basically disappeared since that fateful night two weeks ago. As reluctant as he is to admit it, he might as well be an omega.
Stiles has gone through two weeks of complete hell trying not to shift. Not to lose his cool - okay... maybe that one time with Aiden on the field wasn't an accident... But that was one time! He's been good! Hasn't gone crazy and killed anyone and his eyes are still amber. And also in his self-defense, he's got the not shifting randomly thing almost down to a science.
But he's still terrified of the full moon. He knows what Scott went through, and he'd love to skip that. It looked painful and unpleasant a year ago. He's almost hoping Deucalion will show up and give him a pointer or two, or anything to help him.
-
When Stiles wakes up on Friday he can most definitely feel it. The wolf inside of him is definitely trying to get out. Trying to dig its way right out of Stiles’ chest.
Stiles groans and rolls over in his bed, comforter raising over his head. The moon's not even out and he feels uncomfortable and worried, very, very worried.
There's a light knock at his door, and he mumbles out something akin to 'come in.'
His dad softly walks through around the piles of clutter on his floor, easing his self down onto Stiles' bed.
Sheriff Stilinski sighs, "Son, we need to talk about tonight. I know from common understanding the full moon has major effects on werewolves and... I understand you'll want to go and help Scott tonight... Do whatever you guys do..." His dad trails off.
Stiles pulls the comforter off his head, lifting himself up. "You want me to stay home tonight?" He says slowly.
The sheriff licks his lips and swallows, "Stiles," he can hear his father's heart thump, speeding up, "I don't want to lose you. You're all I have left." The sheriff chokes. Stiles can smell the sadness before he notices his father’s eyes glistening. His shoulders slump and he pulls his father into an embrace.
"I'm not going anywhere Dad. You're stuck with me. Nothing's going to happen to me-"
"Stiles you don't know that! These werewolves seem impervious. You're just a human; you don't have the, the,” the sheriff stumbles for the correct words, “ the magical powers Scott does. "
Stiles bites his lip. Oh, how wrong you are dad. "I know dad, it's just- they need me tonight. The packs need me." He lies. "Scott needs me." His heart clenches. Stiles feels bad lying, but he feels it’s too soon to find out.
"I know Stiles." His dad stands, voice a little hoarse and smoothes out his uniform. "And that's why… I'm just telling you to be careful. Okay?"
Stiles forces a smile, "Okay Dad."
-
Instead of finding himself in his first period physics class, Stiles finds himself outside of Derek's loft once again. He hesitates knocking, but he can hear Derek’s breathing right behind the door. His fist drops to his side, and he lets out a sigh.
“Derek.” Stiles calls, “I know you can hear me. I-I’m not sure what to do, this being the full moon and my first full moon as a wer-”
The door slides open, but Derek is not behind it. Stiles rolls his eyes. Typical. He traipses in, sliding the door shut behind him. Derek’s not in the foyer, and surprisingly Cora’s not in the area that was Derek’s equivalent of a living room.
His fingers tap on the wall, and then he begins walking towards the center of the room. “Derek, I really need your help. Deucalion-“
“Stiles.” He whips around to find Derek walking down the spiral staircase.
“Always has to make a grand entrance.” He snips.
Derek raises an eyebrow at the boy. “We’re going to need all the help we can get tonight with you.” He muses, a small smirk on his face. “I wasn’t making an entrance; I had to get some things for your big night.” He motions to his hand.
“Yeah, cuz I’m sure sex will stop the shift and keep me human.” Stiles rolls his eyes at the industrial chains, “Now seriously are you going to show you me how to” Derek glares at the younger boy, to which Stiles takes a step back. “I uh, yeah… as you were going to say.”
“These,” Derek emphasizes and jingles the chains in his hands, “Are for keeping you here. You won’t… or I should say, shouldn’t be able to control the shift the first night, even if you had been prepping for it. Your main goal is trying to control it, and trying to find your anchor.”
“My anchor? What’s a giant heavy obj-“
"The definition of an anchor, which I’m referring to, is a source of stability, something that will hold you secure to that human part of you. Something that keeps you grounded, anchored to yourself.” Derek explains. “You need to find your anchor. It can be anything.”
Stiles gives him a scrutinizing glance then asks, “What’s yours?” The pale brunette takes a step forward to him.
“Mine’s anger." He answers, and then adds, "I’m sure you already know who Scott’s is.”
Stiles nods. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure that out. “What about Isaac and Cora?”
“Cora’s is hope, and Isaac is his father… before he changed.” Derek informs.
Stiles nods looking around the room, “And Peter’s?” Derek grimaces at the question, so he drops it. He swallows, “How do you find your anchor?”
“Think of something that always draws you back to your sense of self. It can be anything from your dad, to Lydia, to Scott, to lacrosse, anything.” Derek lists, leaning against the table, picking up the discarded hardcover book and then setting it back down.
Like you? He ponders, gnawing at his bottom lip. Derek couldn't be his anchor. No. He internally shakes his head. He honestly couldn't stand the guys half the time- but okay, yeah he was getting better.
“My mom. Definitely.” He nods answering, looking up to the green eyed male.
"Tell me about her." Derek prompts, taking a seat atop the table. He relaxes, letting his rigid and perfect posture slant and relax.
Stiles lets out an exasperated sigh, "Derek we don't have time for this."
"Tell me about her." Derek growls, he throws the younger boy a pointed look.
Stiles rolls his eyes, "That doesn't scare me anymore. You know the whole turning into a werewolf myself thing kind of neutralized that, but okay." He pauses before he starts speaking lovingly of his mother. "She was the most amazing women I've ever met. She would pack me my lunch every day, until the day she got too sick to. We used to stay up on New Year’s with streamers and noise makers when my dad got called out for disturbances because it happened very year. When my dad was home right before Christmas, we'd all bake cookies and it would usually end in a flour fight, her being the one who started it." Stiles smiles fondly at the memory, he leans against the wall continuing on. "Then on my birthdays, she'd take the day off and let me stay home from school and we'd watch cartoons and eat junk food. And..." Stiles goes on and on. Not once does he notice the gentle smile Derek's giving him as he talks about his deceased mom.
Stiles goes on for over an hour, before he stops, feeling parched. Derek hands him a glass of water and he gulps it down, "I don't see how that did any-"
"Everything you just told me, that's what you have to think about. When the wolf inside you is fighting for the surface, that's what you have to think about. Your mother and everything she did that you loved her for. Everything that makes you feel human."
Derek looks at the boy, whose eyes have just glossed over and he can smell sadness radiating off the brown eyed boy. He can hear the hitching of breath and now Derek's kind of at a loss.
There's a reason his anchor is anger and not of love or family. Many reasons actually. Many reasons stemming back to Kate, fewer to Peter and several towards Jennifer. Kate had destroyed him, shattered his sense of trust, and then Jennifer had only repeated that. Peter, his only other family member besides Cora, had killed his other sister, and he still wasn’t close enough to Cora for her to even keep him grounded. So anger worked for him right now,
But with Stiles... It's different. He knows exactly what to do. "Stiles," Derek holds out his arms. And maybe it has to do with Stiles being a werewolf that the two are communicating better physically, despite the obvious tensions, but Stiles is definitely welcoming it right now.
"I'm sorry this happened, Stiles." Derek whispers. He runs his arm up and down the shorter boy’s back. “I know this isn’t what you wanted.”
Stiles lets out a soft sigh, “It’s not just that these days. Everyone’s just been weird lately, you included. Scott can’t look at me. Isaac’s been avoiding me. I honestly haven’t seen him since I told him I got bit. Cora won’t even threaten me anymore. I’m seriously starting to miss having my life threatened. And my throat feels left out, knowing it’s not getting the special attention of possibly being ripped out with someone’s teeth.” He lets out a little chuckle, but then his smile drops again. “I’m feeling alone… more so than I would have expected.”
“What do you mean?” He lets go of Stiles, hand softly brushing against his elbow. Derek’s hand stays in touch with his arm.
“When I was human, you guys left me out of some plans for my safety. I’m a werewolf now. I’m stronger and sturdier, but you guys won’t even talk to me, or include me in plans.”
“Stiles, you have to understand. “ He’s cut off.
“No. No, I don’t understand. Just because Deucalion bit me, does not mean I am part of his pack. I already have my loyalties and the fact that all of you chose to ignore it pisses me off. I told you, that you were stuck with me!” Stiles exclaims. “I’m not leaving Scott and you, just because another Alpha bit me.”
“Stiles, it’s not that simple.” Derek remarks and removes his hand from the sarcastic teen. “There are… unspoken laws.” He says defeated.
“Since when have you known me to follow laws?” Stiles sneers. “If I’m the spark, I can choose who my alpha is.”
Stiles swears Derek’s about to break out into a grin, but stops once Cora steps into the room. She opens her mouth to say something, until her eyes land on Stiles. She bites her lip and motions to her older brother, but he stands concrete.
“The full moon’s tonight.” She states, sparing a quick glance at Stiles. Stiles eyes downcast after she looks away quickly. He throws Derek a look of ‘See! See what I mean!’
“I know.” He raises an eyebrow quizzically.
“It’s just that it’s…” She starts off but quickly fades out.
“Cora, just say it already” Stiles barks.
She rolls her eyes at him. Stiles grins. There it was. Normalcy. “It’s your first full moon. And if you truly are the spark, we need to keep you clean of all innocent blood.” When he gives her a dumbfounded look she glances at her brother. “You haven’t told him?”
“Now’s not the time. Once he makes it through his first full moon, then I’ll tell him.” Derek informs. Cora nods, before leaving the room.
“Tell me what? What aren’t you telling me?” Stiles asks
Derek leans back against the table, “You know how the Argent’s have a bestiary? Peter put together something comparable to that. I found a passage, it’s not much but, it goes into detail about what the spark is, and how it gets its power.”
“And you thought it was good to keep that to me?”
“I wasn’t keeping it from you. I was going to tell you, later on when you have better control. You have enough to be focused on right now.” Derek clarifies. “It’s a lot to sink in. I’ll tell you tomorrow morning.”
“If he makes it to tomorrow morning.” Peter cuts in, appearing out of nowhere and traipsing up the stairs.
“Thanks Peter. I’m glad you have such confidence in me.” Stiles jeers.
-
Stiles can see the moon climbing higher in the sky. He saw it first break the horizon, and now the sky is growing dark. Stars are coming into focus and the sky is smearing with dark purples and yolky yellows. Clouds are drinking in the approaching darkness, filling with dark claret.
It’s getting to the point where Stiles can feel himself losing control. He counts four times that his eyes have already shifted from chocolate brown to gold. His nails have been growing and receding every time he realizes what they were doing.
He knows Derek's going to be chaining him down soon. He's dreading it. His tolerance for pain is low and those chains had spikes inside the cufflinks are not something he’s looking forward to. He shutters at the thought; this was going to be unpleasant.
Stiles rubs at his wrists self-consciously and slowly gets up. He reluctantly walks down to the basement where he knows Derek is setting everything up, Peter in tow. He's quiet, or maybe the two are preoccupied because they don't hear him when he enters. They don't act startled, but Stiles can hear the jump in their heart beats.
Peter gives Derek a look, but the alpha's face remains indifferent.
"How are you feeling?" Derek asks, as Peter checks the stability of the chain set up. He drops the chains and slinks into the shadows. Stiles assumes he's going upstairs to bug Cora.
Stiles doesn't respond and outstretches his arms. "You can wait if it’s not that bad yet. You have to be in pain until you successfully find your anchor." Stiles jerks his wrists up. "Okay, but do you know why you have to be in pain or are you just blindly following what I'm saying."
Stiles eyes flash gold at him in annoyance and he jerks his hands up once more. "It's a temporary anchor."
"Just do it already." The teen blurts out, exasperated.
Derek nods, bolting the cuffs into place. He tightens the cuffs and ignores the blood dripping down Stiles wrist. He fights back the need to scream. The high schooler balls his fingers into a fist, nails cutting into his palm, and skin healing just as fast.
His breath hitches as this sort of wave runs through him. His eyes squeeze shut. He can vaguely make out Derek's voice in the background. It's washed out as a stronger wave washes over him. His insides feel like they’re on fire. He tenses and pulls his knees up to his chest.
Mom. Think about mom, stop the shift. His fangs pierce his lips as he repeats this mantra in his head. His mind starts skipping around. The mantra becomes jumbled in his head.
He groans. Stiles can feel his grip on himself disappearing. It's almost like someone else is control his body, possessed his being and is making him do things on their accord, rather than his.
His eyes flash bright gold and his body involuntarily turns towards Derek. Stiles nails grow sharp and predatory. He lunges towards the alpha, only stopped when the chains pull him backwards.
The beta snarls, body tugging the chains. There's blood dripping down his arms, the more he pulls, the more the chains cut into his flesh.
Derek stands, red eyes, confidently in front of Stiles, likes he's trying to tempt the new werewolf. Derek grins -if you can call it that- his canines pronounced.
Derek flares his nostrils, taking a step forward. "Stiles." He growls. "Your anchor. Find your anchor."
Stiles face scrunches up and he pounces towards Derek. The alpha knocks him down with a simple swat of the arm.
"Stiles." Derek roars. For a split second Stiles seems to come to, there's a shimmering of clarity but it’s gone instantaneously. "Stiles," he repeats, louder and stronger. "Think about your mom. Think about how much she loved you, you love her."
Slowly, Derek can see something breaking in the betas' eyes. His eyes look less deranged and shifty. They soften out, human semblance replacing the feral gaze.
"My mom… right. My mom." Stiles mutters from the floor.
Think about all the time you used to spend together and how you used to bake together. And when she was sick she'd smile so wide when you made her soup. Think about how she used to take you ice skating and she's hold your hand and guide you around the rink, until you declared yourself fully capable and fell on your ass. And she took you into her arms and of the rink to get cocoa.
Stiles lets out a sigh, not realizing Derek has taken a seat by the door, just in case he lapses back. Derek thinks he's almost handling this better than Isaac. Almost. He is a little disturbed at how still and quiet Stiles is all of a sudden.
Think about how she'd read you all those fairy tales before you went to bed. And how she'd always add her own touches to them like in Little Red Riding Hood and the Three Little Pigs.
His mind starts to wander after that. Every so often when he feels like he might shift, his mind races back to his mom and her fairy tale renditions. And they come to a stop at wolves, werewolves in particular. And then, almost as if they teleport, his mind lands on Derek.
And his inner wolf responds, but in a different fashion than how it responds to the full moon. It claws at his side, desperate. Almost like it’s trying to get someone's attention but it’s scared to get in trouble. Stiles will take this needy feeling over the full moon's effect any day.
When the moon starts to set, Stiles can feel his body calming down and relaxing. The wolf is returning to hibernation for a month. He feels exhausted. He can’t remember ever feeling this drained in his life.
Derek doesn't remove the chains until the sun starts to rise and Stiles is asleep on his floor curling into a ball. Derek scoops him up, throws Stiles over his shoulders and carries him up the stairs into his living room and gently places him on the couch. He lets out a yawn, scratching the back of his neck.
He smiles fondly down at the beta on his couch. Stiles did well for his first full moon. It was almost a perfect full moon, if he’s concerned, definitely the best out of all his the betas.
Stiles had found his anchor.