Work Text:
Stiles fell back asleep after talking to Peter. He could tell it was later in the morning when he woke the second time. He rolled over and, if the clock was correct, it was ten-fifteen.
"Okay, up and at 'em," Stiles said aloud. And didn't move. He really wanted to sleep for another day, but he somehow knew that the Darach would be on the move today and he'd need to be ready to deal with him. And that required food.
A quick shower took care of the last of the cob-webs in his brain and he checked on who was in the suite. Derek was still there.
"Breakfast? Or lunch?" Derek asked.
"Yes!" Stiles nodded. "Whatever is easiest. I'm starved."
"Your dad thought that might be the case, so there's things for sandwiches," Derek said, going to the refrigerator. He pulled out a variety of meats and cheeses, mustard and brought rolls to the table. "What do you want?"
"I can make it," Stiles protested.
Derek pushed a donut into Stiles' hands. "Eat that while I do this," he directed. "The sugar will be good for you."
Stiles groaned. "Oh, man! This is good! At there more?" He inhaled the donut in too few bites and took the glass of milk Derek poured gratefully.
"It's a local shop, so there are more, but you also need something more than just sugar," Derek said pointedly.
"I'm never going to live down managing my dad's food, am I?" Stiles groaned.
"Never!" Derek grinned.
Stiles pointed at the assortment and Derek made him a huge sandwich. He ate that a bit more slowly than he had the donut.
"Another?" Derek asked.
Stiles shook his head. "That should hold me for a bit. Do we have anything we can take with us?"
"There's extra water and your dad got some snacks," Derek said.
"I know there should be food in the houses, but something tells me not to eat any of that," Stiles said. "I... I just don't want to trust it for some reason."
"And I agree that we should trust your instincts," Derek agreed.
"Okay," Stiles said.
Derek put the food back in the fridge and threw the garbage in the bin provided by the hotel.
Stiles and Derek went back to the Marley compound. Stiles put a hand on the gate and felt the attempt to break through the wards. It was one attempt that had failed, but Stiles could feel that it was the Darach. Who was really pissed at this point -- Stiles could feel the emotion resonate through the wards.
"We'll have to check with Anna to see what she wants to do with anything here," Stiles said. "There are pack things and personal belongings that need to be taken care of. I know it will be overwhelming, but she needs to be involved."
"Got it," Derek said, making a note on the growing list of things that need to be taken care of.
Stiles went back to the Nemeton, knowing that, by leaving the gate open, he was inviting the Darach to a confrontation. Stiles knew that Derek and his dad had worked out something between them, so that Derek wasn't his only security on the site. Once he opened the gates, there would be a significant number of others on the Marley pack lands to protect Stiles.
Stiles meandered toward the Nemeton, to allow the others to get into place. He wasn't going to place himself into unnecessary danger... If nothing else, Peter would be disappointed in him.
He sat down in the same tangle of roots he had sat in the previous day. And he waited.
"You've ruined everything!" a voice shouted.
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Dude! That is like the most unoriginal thing you could have said."
"Don't call me dude!"
Stiles watched as a middle-aged man walked into the clearing in front of him.
"And who are you?" Stiles asked.
"Ezekiel O'Brian." The man gave a small bow. "Postmaster of this fine town."
"The postmaster? Really?" Stiles asked.
O'Brian shrugged. "It's a living. And it let me go anywhere in the area. Do you know how long it took me to find this Nemeton? And you took it away from me in one day!"
"Dude! You killed off a peaceful pack! Not good!"
"Bah! That stupid Alpha wouldn't let me near the Nemeton!" O'Brian ranted. "He deserved to die!"
"Oh, my god! What a cliche!" Stiles groaned. A sigh. "Derek?"
Derek grabbed O'Brian and held the struggling man in place.
"Bring him over here," Stiles directed. "I need him to be closer to the Nemeton."
"You can't do this!" O'Brian protested.
"Oh, really?" Stiles replied. "Just watch me..." Stiles reached down to the athame strapped to his ankle.
"Mother Moon, accept this sacrifice, made in your honor I return the Alpha spark to the land, to rest before it can return in the fullness of time." Stiles drew the knife across O'Brian's neck, slicing the jugular. Derek held O'Brian as he bled out over the Nemeton.
"You can let him go," Stiles said softly.
Derek released the body and it disintegrated as it hit the ground. Stiles could feel the area lighten.
"Sorry, you could have let someone else do that," Stiles said.
"Wasn't going to let anyone else near you," Derek said gruffly.
"Aww... thanks, SourWolf!" Stiles cooed.
"Peter wouldn't be happy if I let anyone near you," Derek admitted.
"Well, I can believe that!" Stiles laughed.
"Anything else we need to do?" Derek asked.
"Not really," Stiles replied. "Now that we stopped the Darach, everything should settle down. Anna will need to determine what to do with everything, but there's no real deadline on that at the moment."
"Call Peter, let him know," Derek directed.
"Bossy," Stiles said as he dialed the phone. As Peter picked up the phone, Stiles said, "The butler did it."
"Pardon?"
"No, sorry, it was actually the postmaster. Ezekiel O'Brian. Someone can look him up and see if they can figure out what he really wanted. We didn't get that far," Stiles explained.
"Are you okay?" Peter asked.
"Yes. And Derek was a big help," Stiles added. "But it was good to have other backup in case something went wrong. You can send them away now."
"They are there to protect you," Peter said.
Stiles sighed. "Okay, okay," he allowed. "WorryWolf."
"I'll always worry about you," Peter said softly.