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“Let me guess,” Derek says as he opens the door to his apartment early the next morning to a very-tired-looking Stiles, “You’re having trouble controlling it?” He doesn’t sound smug at all, no inflection to his voice of any kind, but Stiles still hates him a little because he looks so well rested and because he just knows why Stiles is there.
“Yeah,” is all he says, walking in as Derek moves to let him in, “I need your help, I don’t know how to do any of this and – and it came so natural to Scott and I don’t – I don’t’ like going to him with problems. Like this.” He bites his lip, watching as Derek closes the doors. The older man turns, scrutinizing him.
“Because your used to him coming to you for stuff?” he asks, which is again spot on.
“Yeah, and,” he pauses, takes a deep breath, because something, either the alpha or his magical prowess or maybe just his stupid life, has caused him to be more emotional over the past twenty-four hours than he ever was before and he hates it, hates feeling vulnerable and like he could start crying or worse without any warning.
“And you don’t like feeling weak in front of the pack,” Derek guesses, which, sometimes Stiles forgets how observant Derek can be. He stares at the man for a moment before Derek shrugs.
“You’ve never liked looking weak in front of others. It’s…something I think we have in common.”
It’s something Stiles still isn’t quite used to, though it’s been at least two years since Derek opened up a bit – the reminder that Derek wasn’t always hard to talk to and had been more emotionally open than most men – most people, actually – than Stiles knew. It had been good, seeing him willing to show more and more of himself over the past couple years, and was good now to hear.
“Hey Derek – ” Stiles hears from the stairs, and he looks around to see Cora standing at the bottom, eyes wide.
“Um, you still want to go to breakfast?” she asks, taking in Stiles with a nod of greeting. Stiles turns back after his own nod to find Derek staring at him, eyebrows raised in question.
“You want to come with?” he asks, and Stiles gives a little shake of his head.
“I don’t want to intrude on you guys, I know it’s been a long while since you’ve seen each other,” he starts, but Cora laughs, coming the rest of the way across the room to meet them.
“Right, like you’d be intruding on anything. C’mon, I haven’t seen you in a long time, either, and now that Derek’s alive again I want to catch up. With both of you.”
Derek seems to sense what’s holding Stiles back, gives him a look and glances over to Cora, grabbing his keys from the hook by the door he keeps them on.
“Give us a moment?” he asks, and Cora stops, stares between the two of them for just a moment with a suspicious look before she nods, grabs her coat and the keys and slips out the door. Derek waits a moment for her to get out of the building before he speaks.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do…we can talk over breakfast. She’s not going to judge you, and she’s not technically part of our pack. Plus,” Derek pauses, thinks over his next words before he says them.
“Plus, she’s mated to the alpha of her pack. Who became the alpha not long after their mating ceremony, so at the very least she’s been witness to someone who wasn’t supposed to be the alpha who ended up being the alpha, and who has since become a very good one. She might be able to help with…everything. Maybe even better than I can, since she has an outsider’s perspective.”
Stiles is shocked by the news, he is, but all he can do is sigh, look out the window, he’s so tired.
“That’s why she seems so powerful. Mated to the alpha.” He bites his lip again and looks back over to Derek, who’s nodding in agreement at the statement.
“I don’t mind talking in front of her. Like you said. She’s not…really a part of our pack, I don’t have the same sense of worry about feeling vulnerable in front of her. And it’s not like you don’t talk to her about what’s going on here, anyway, she probably knows more about our pack than some within it do.”
He smiles wryly, and Derek smiles genuinely back. It’s a bit much to see, as yesterday he was really, truly dead and all. It’s weird to think about, that Derek was dead for less than forty-eight hours, that all that had happened since the omega attacked has happened in the last five days, that it’s only been about sixty hours since Derek died. It all feels like it’s gone on for longer, like it’s been weeks or months, Stiles can barely remember the time before Derek was almost dying or dead and now he’s here, in the flesh, well alive, and it gives Stiles pause, floods him with emotions he feels better off not thinking about.
“Let’s go to breakfast, then,” Stiles replies, running a hand through his hair, and Derek grabs his own coat with another smile thrown at Stiles as they walk out the door, down to the car where Cora is waiting.
She meets them with a wide smile of her own. Like Derek’s, it’s hard not to smile back, so Stiles just responds with a soft, if tired, one of his own.
*
There’s a tiny diner just a few blocks from the loft that the pack has frequented over the years, usually after late nights; after puppy piles; after a hard-won battle; after parties they throw usually to the chagrin of Derek, though he always joins in eventually, after the strangers have gone and it’s only the pack left.
It’s a diner owned and run by a reclusive but safe and sweet changeling named Ray. He greets them by name as Derek and Stiles walk in, looking at Cora curiously. They sit at their usual table, in the back corner away from the prying ears of the few townsfolk who occasionally come around, and Ray comes over immediately to take their order.
“The usual?” he asks Derek and Stiles, who both nod, Stiles with a large yawn that causes Cora to laugh a bit. Ray looks to her as Derek reaches toward the end of the table to grab the menus.
“Just a coffee, black, and maybe whatever black tea you have?” she requests, and Ray nods easily, heading off for their drinks as Cora looks down at the menu Derek has placed in front of her. Ray comes back after a couple of minutes, three coffees, two waters, and one tea on a tray.
“Are we ready to order?” he asks as he hands them their drinks, and Stiles sips his coffee happily before speaking with “My usual, please.”
“Same.” Derek smiles as he nods, and Ray turns to Cora again.
“Um, the pancake breakfast, please, with extra syrup and bacon,” she decides, and Ray’s off again. Cora turns her attention to Derek and Stiles, letting a bright smile grace her face.
They spend the first part of breakfast talking about their usual lives. Cora fills Stiles in on her new mate and alpha, Avery, and they talk about college and pack life and as a lull in the conversation comes up Cora’s the one to finally bring it up.
“So how’re you dealing with,” she gestures over to Stiles, biting into a piece of bacon, “Being the alpha?”
Stiles sighs, taking another drink of coffee, refilled just moments ago for the third time, and glances over to Derek, who’s watching him with earnest eyes.
“Not well,” he confesses after a moment, looking down at his plate which is mostly empty.
“I dunno, I just feel like…I have this huge responsibility on my shoulders and I’m…so unprepared for any of it.”
Both Hale’s nod, and after a moment of thoughtful silence Cora speaks up.
“Avery’s older sister was the one raised to be the next alpha. When their dad died, though…she didn’t get it. Avery did. And it was very hard for her, too, because…I think, even being a werewolf your entire life, if you aren’t raised with the belief that you will be the next alpha, it’s hard. You haven’t lived your entire life being prepared for it or expecting it. So for you, not being a werewolf and not even knowing about werewolves your entire life, it’s going to be harder. You just…have to give yourself a break, expect that it’s going to be hard, recognize that it’s okay if you aren’t good at it at first.”
Stiles sighs, because while that does make him feel a bit better, that even born ‘wolves don’t always deal with it well, it’s hard to be okay with that in himself.
“I feel like we’ve dealt with so much more, so much shit over the past few years…to have this be the thing that breaks me is…it shouldn’t happen.”
“And it won’t,” Derek assures him, “We won’t let it.”
“And,” Stiles goes on, glancing at Derek to let him know he had heard him, “I…Scott dealt with it so much better. He just…grew into it. I think, and I know you had some issues, but even you, Derek, you seemed to settle into it so much quicker.”
“I turned a bunch of teenagers within the first two weeks,” Derek reminds him, a small self-deprecating laugh escaping as he thinks about it, “And had an incredibly hard time controlling them, protecting them, and taking care of my territory for at least the first year, though I doubt I have much better control of them even now.”
“And Scott,” Cora starts, then stops, looking over to Derek for a long moment before returning her gaze to Stiles, “Don’t think Derek is going around talking about you guys with other packs, but…Scott really didn’t seem to adapt to any of this well. Being a ‘wolf, or being an alpha. He was kind of really shitty, especially toward you, at first, wasn’t he?”
“Regardless of the specifics,” Derek cuts in again, “You know neither of us were perfect. We didn’t have good control at first and you know very well it’s hard even now occasionally. The alpha is…harsh, demanding, rough. It’s controlling, even when you have a handle on it. Don’t beat yourself up for not being prepared for it. Don’t let it get to you, because that’s what I did.”
Stiles smiles a little, shrugs.
“At least we won’t have to worry about you biting a bunch of people in your first week,” Derek continues with another laugh, and Stiles’ smile grows; it’s always great to see how much Derek has loosened up over the years, enough to joke about all that happened years ago.
And he’s eternally grateful, he realizes as he looks at Derek, toward his pack and Cora for convincing him of the need to bring Derek back, even to Orion for being willing to do it for them. He knows that, apart from Erica and sometimes Kira, he’s the closest to Derek out of the entire pack. He’s eternally grateful because the thought of facing any of this without Derek actively hurts.
“I know you probably resent me, at least a little bit, right now because I have your alpha powers, but – “ Stiles begins, but Derek stops him with a shake of his head and a touch to his forearm.
“Stiles,” he begins, pausing until Stiles is looking directly at him, “I don’t care. Well,” he shakes his head, “I do, obviously, a bit. But I don’t resent you. I resent that omega, I resent the witch that might be after us, but I don’t resent you. It’s not your fault, not that the omega was able to get to me, not your fault that the spell didn’t work correctly. Do I miss the extra strength, the extra senses, the connectedness to the pack? Of course. But I don’t…you’re a great choice for an alpha, and I recognize that like Fate obviously did. I could never resent you for being a good enough person to become an alpha, even without being a ‘wolf.”
God, Stiles feels so pathetically emotional about everything and there’s pricks at the back of his eyes, the slightest tears forming. He’s just so incredibly grateful, toward his pack and Derek, he feels well loved, and there are the butterflies, too, the small sense of longing poking at his chest and he swallows, attempting to push it back down.
“Could you, you think,” he stops, clears his throat, “Help me figure it all out? How to control it, how to – to deal with it. The best you can. Me being human and all – it’s probably going to be a bit different for me.”
“You know,” Cora speaks up, and Stiles has almost forgotten she’s sitting right there across from him and Derek, and he’s startled as his eyes shift to her, “I know some lore on a couple of other non-were alphas. I think – I think only one of them was human, but the other couple weren’t weres, at least, I think a hydra and a siren if I remember correctly. I don’t actually know the lore myself,” she continues with a small roll of her eyes, “But a beta in my pack does, he’s great at research and – I could give him a call, see what he knows about, what’s different about being a non-were. Have you talked to Deaton about it?”
Stiles nods.
“He only knew of one other human alpha in all the history and legends he knows himself, but he doesn’t actually know anything about the actual alpha, and it could very well be more legend than fact, anyway.”
“Huh,” Cora replies, pressing her tongue to her cheek in thought, “I’ll go give Tiago a call, see what he can tell me.”
She gets up from the booth, grabbing her phone and coat and going out the door.
“I will, though, regardless,” Derek says as soon as she’s out of the diner, and Stiles’ eyes snap to him. He feels better, after the coffee and breakfast, but still rather tired, even through the caffeine.
“I’ll help you,” Derek clarifies, “The best I can. I do think it’ll be helpful if we can figure out what else has changed about you, what exactly your body can and can’t do, whether your senses are enhanced at all – ”
“I don’t think they are,” Stiles points out, “Nothing seems…out of the ordinary.”
Derek smiles, almost indulgently, though Stiles feels off, unable to quite read faces as well as he usually is.
“You haven’t noticed anything, which yes, is a good indicator that there’s nothing different, but some supernatural, especially human/supernatural hybrids, can turn those kinds of things on and off. So I don’t think we can know for sure, yet.”
If Stiles can do that – can have the advanced senses, the hearing and smelling and maybe even strength – that the rest of the ‘wolves have, he...that would be amazing. He often feels less than useful; sure, he can fight like hell, can use a bat like no one else, has even upgraded occasionally to a Taser that the Argents provided him, and has a handle on the whole running away thing and an even better handle on the dodging-at-the-last-minute sort of thing. He can research like no one else, though Lydia is a close second, and he can use wolfbane and mountain ash pretty spectacularly. He’s even begun to strengthen his relationship with his spark, but he wants those extra things, the abilities that help them continuously win fights, wants to be able to train with the rest of them, wants to be more than just a human with some magical abilities. Sure, Allison was human too, but she was beyond incredible with nearly all kinds of weaponry. And maybe that was the silver lining to all of this, if it was true.
“Yeah,” is all he replies, because he’s thinking heavily about it now.
“I’ll help you with it the best I can,” Derek continues, “For example – ”
He doesn’t finish, interrupted by Stiles’ phone going off, startling them both with its volume.
“Text from Scott,” Stiles tells Derek as he opens it.
8:22 Scotty mr argent talked to two of his conections about that witch and got some news back
8:23 Scotty pack mtng at 9 my house?
“Something about the witch,” he says to Derek’s curious look, both of them well aware of Scott’s propensity to sleep until at least ten a.m. unless he had school or work, “Mr. Argent found out something, pack meeting at nine. You in?”
“’Course,” Derek nods, draining the rest of his coffee just as Cora comes in, looking enlightened.
8:24 We’ll be there.
“Tiago is going to send me an email with all the information he’s gathered about the human alpha, but apparently it is quite a bit of information, even if a lot of it’s legend.” She sits back down as Derek’s phone goes off. He pulls it out of his pocket as Stiles’ phone beeps again.
“Same message,” he tells Stiles.
8:26 Scotty we? Stiles’ message reads.
8:26 I’m with Cora and Derek we’ll be there at nine.
“What’s up?” Cora asks, looking between the two, eyes on their phones.
“Pack meeting, some news about the witch, you in?”
Cora shrugs, drinking her coffee.
“Orion’s got a flight back to Brazil at three but I thought I’d stick around for a couple more days, so why not.”
They all get their coats, pay their bills, and head out to the car.
Stiles feels a bit better, especially when he feels Derek’s hand settle on his shoulder for a moment as they walk out the door, but it doesn’t completely settle him. He’s still unsure, vulnerable, and heavily, so heavily, weighted down.
The small smile Derek sends him as they climb into the car does help, though.