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“You really think he’s your familiar?” Peter asked, looking at the puppy that Stiles had placed into his arms.
“All of the books that you have graciously provided, oh sugar daddy,” Derek growled at the nickname, pulling Stiles back against his chest, “said the same thing. A Spark’s familiar will always come when they need someone to center them, they will be able to feel the emotions of their bonded, they are able to perceive threats to their bonded, and they are sensitive to magic. Shadow tried to attack Deaton when he came to the loft, and he always knows when I am not feeling like I should.”
Peter sighed, lifting the puppy up to his face. Shadow sniffed at him and yipped happily, his tail wagging.
“Definitely your dog, darling,” He said, letting the puppy lick all over his face.
“I would stop with the nicknames, Derek is ready to rip someone’s throat out at this point, and I like you better than I like Scott at this point.”
"I will endeavor to do so. All I can tell you about familiars is that they only come to those who desperately need them. You have been in a dark place for a while, Stiles, so I can see why Shadow found you. He will never leave you and will live as long as you do. That means, even if you were to even need to be bitten, he will have his life extended to match yours. He will always be your companion and your pack." Peter explained, handing the puppy back to Stiles.
Shadow yipped and pawed at Derek, who smiled and scratched his head.
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Stiles sat on the grass, looking out of the yard around the old Hale house. Derek and Shadow were playing in the yard, Derek in a full shift. Stiles shook his head and watched them play. His Spark was acting up, a side effect that Peter said was completely normal when his emotions were high.
“Derek Hale, don’t you dare jump into those leaves,” He called, seeing his mate running over to the tree line.
His warning was ignored as Derek immediately jumped into the pile, quickly followed by Shadow. The puppy yipped and bounced back out of the pile, headed straight over to Stiles. Stiles smiled and scooped him up. Now that he knew that Shadow was his familiar, it made so much sense why he always felt calmer with the puppy.
Derek came flouncy over, laying down beside him.
“If you think that I am going to spend my time pulling those leaves out of your fur, you better think again. You are a bad influence on our child,” Stiles said, even as he leaned over to bury his face in the wolf’s fur.
Derek huffed in response. Stiles was too distracted by Derek’s scent, which was even more pronounced in wolf form. He got so lost in the woodsy, safe scent that he didn’t hear the rest of the pack arrive. He was shaken out of his mate when Isaac’s little furry face rubbed against his neck.
“Oh look, all my puppies in one place,” He said, moving so he was still laying on Derek but could see everyone.
The only one not in a full shift was Scott, who didn’t see the point in being a wolf during the full moon.
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Tonight was calmer than usual. Despite all being crowded in the same room, the pack was busy existing in their own little bubble. Isaac had his headphones in, reading an audiobook, Boyd was playing solitaire on the ground next to the couch, Jackson was watching the recording of that morning’s lacrosse practice, and Erica was quietly strumming her guitar while humming an unfamiliar tune.
Stiles was splayed across Derek’s lap as he aimlessly scrolled through his phone, Shadow laying on his stomach. Head nestled on top of Derek’s thighs, Stiles began taking some selfies of himself to send to Derek, hoping to fluster him. Derek’s eyes fluttered down to his face, where he was sticking his tongue out at himself in the camera. Derek tapped at his thigh, smirk adorning his face, and Stiles hid his face with his phone, embarrassed to have been caught.
Face hot in bashfulness, Stiles turned the camera on Derek, who was back to looking at his phone. Biting his lip, he seized the opportunity for revenge.
“Babe.”
He looked down at the sound of his name as Stiles’ finger hit the capture button.
The silence in the room was quickly disturbed by the laughter that bubbled from Stiles’ throat. He never once thought Derek could have a bad angle, but boy did this picture prove him wrong.
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“No, thank you. I think I should get-” Stiles started to say. He had decided it was a good idea to go somewhere by himself. That was a mistake.
“Not yet,” the stranger interrupted.
Stiles’ blood turned to ice in his veins. The guy had him by the wrist now; surely he could feel the Spark’s hummingbird pulse fluttering against his fingertips. Surely he could taste the younger boy’s terror on the wind. “Lesson one, buddy: you can’t just excuse yourself in the middle of a conversation.”
“Hands off.”
Stiles’ head snapped up and he realized, even through watery eyes (when had they started watering?) that Derek had come to his rescue yet again.
“Derek!”
“I was just teaching your pipsqueak boyfriend how to respect us older guys, you know?”
“How? By disrespecting his personal space and forcing him to have a conversation with you? By manhandling him to the point of an anxiety attack?”
Stiles could see Isaac and Boyd approaching but it was already too late. The kid had jumped toward Derek with his fist drawn back.
The fight is short and sweet. Apparently, someone had called the police when they saw just who the guy was messing with, but Parrish and the Sheriff arrived not even a few moments later. Derek was victorious, of course, and didn’t even get in trouble since he was defending Stiles’ personal safety. The fact that the weasely kid did, in fact, have a knife on him didn’t help his case, either.
“Hey, son. Why don’t you head home with Derek? I’m sure that you could use some puppy cuddles right about now,” John said, hugging his son tightly once they had taken his statement.
Stiles nodded and let his dad push him over to his mate, who immediately wrapped his arms around him and led him to the car. He had no qualms letting him climb into the back, where Boyd and Isaac immediately squished him between them. They centered him until they got back to the loft. Peter and Shadow met him at the door, both clearly distressed.