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“If you make another Big Bad Wolf joke one more time, your body won’t be found. You know why? Because I will eat it.”
“Is that cannibalism or just another animal attack?” Stiles wondered, tapping his fingers thoughtfully. Derek glared at him and he held his hands up in defense. “Hey, that was an animal joke, not a wolf joke. Totally doesn’t count.”
Derek groaned.
It all started with a coven of witches that had moved into Beacon Hills, unaware of the werewolf pack that was already living there. Stiles had run into one of them at the library earlier in the month without realizing. When Scott and the rest of the pack confronted them later about moving out, she had recognized Stiles immediately and shot a spell at him. Derek had enough time to grab Stiles’ arm to try to yank him back, but got in the way of the yellow light instead. The next thing he knew, they were in a forest that clearly wasn’t the preserve, and Stiles could apparently talk to squirrels.
He really hated witches.
“Look, Scott will get it all sorted out,” Stiles was saying now. “Clearly it isn’t so bad. We just need to figure out where we are.”
“Obviously we’re on some sort of acid trip.” Derek scowled. “And you can talk to animals.”
“Well that explains the fact that I’m in a wolf pack, now doesn’t it?” Stiles retorted. Derek could see the annoyance creeping into his face as he lost patience. “Look, we’re alive, right? It isn’t going to help anything if you bite my head off, so can you stop hating me for just a little bit? Just long enough for us to get back, and then you can go back to wanting to tear me to shreds every time I open my mouth.”
Derek stopped dead. “I don’t hate you.” He would’ve thought that was obvious. Stiles had been pack since he had been in high school. Derek had visited him more than any of the others the last couple of years while he was in college, even though it was almost a seven hour drive. He let Stiles marathon all of the Harry Potter movies at his house in one day, for god’s sake. How could Stiles still think that he hated him?
“Could’ve fooled me,” Stiles muttered, but he was frowning. “Sorry. It’s just hard to tell sometimes.”
“Well, I don’t,” Derek responded grumpily. “So there.”
Stiles raised an eyebrow. “What are you, five?” Derek looked away. “Alright then, Clifford. Let’s see if we can find someone human around here.”
Well, they didn’t find anyone human, but ten minutes later they stumbled upon a clearing with a little rise of earth in the center of it. And on the rise of earth was a door. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Derek said under his breath, just as the door opened and dwarves came streaming out. Seven, to be exact. “What the hell did you say to that witch?” he demanded, turning to Stiles.
Stiles looked genuinely puzzled. “I didn’t. She kind of winked at me I think, but…” He trailed off. “Shit. She was hitting on me.”
Derek ignored the unexpected flare of anger that came with those words. “How did you not see the pretty girl hitting on you?” he hissed through his teeth as the dwarves circled around them, pickaxes in hand.
“She isn’t my type,” Stiles managed before the dwarf directly in front of them spoke up.
“Who the hell are you?” it—he?—asked. “And how did you get here?”
“We walked,” Derek answered dryly.
“You can’t just walk in here,” another said loudly behind them. Derek turned his head to raise an eyebrow at it. This one was dressed in green. “It’s warded against strangers.”
“Well, we know you,” Stiles told them. “At least, I do. I don’t know about Derek’s knowledge of fairytales.” He looked at each dwarf in turn. “You’re the seven dwarves, aren’t you? You’re friends of Snow White.”
Derek closed his eyes. This wasn’t happening.
“That’s Queen Snow White!” the first dwarf exclaimed. “And we are not a fairytale, mister. I can guarantee that.”
Stiles shrugged in apology. “Look, I’m Stiles, this is Derek. He’s a werewolf and we kind of got into trouble with some witches back home and now we’re here. Where we come from, you guys are stories.”
“Nasty things, witches,” another dwarf muttered. “Well, look, we can point you in the direction of someone who can help, but it’s not likely they’ll believe your story. Werewolves don’t exist anymore, boys. They’ve been extinct for years.”
A low growl was building in Derek’s chest, and he was sorely tempted to shift just to prove them wrong. But Stiles was sliding his fingers around Derek’s wrist, grounding him enough to go quiet, though he kept glaring at them all. “Directions would be great,” Stiles said, smiling a little. “Then we’ll be on our way.”
Derek kept silent while the dwarves drew out a rough map for Stiles, keeping close enough to Stiles that he could grab him and run if needed. But the dwarves seemed friendly enough now, and downright cheerful when Stiles and Derek left the clearing and stepped back into the woods beyond.
“When we get back, I’m killing her,” Derek decided. “She put us in a freaking fairytale.” He looked back to Stiles, who was grinning. “Why aren’t you angry about this?”
“You’re the only werewolf in existence here,” Stiles answered. “We’re going to go see a group of fairies, and we might run into a dragon on the way, and animals can talk, but you’re literally the only werewolf around. People won’t believe us when we say you’re a werewolf either.” He was leaning against a tree now, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “It’s even less likely for someone to believe you to be a werewolf here than back home.” He sank down to the base of the tree, tears of mirth running down his face now. His mouth kept moving, but Derek couldn’t make out the words anymore. He watched as Stiles slowly pulled himself together, only to look back up at Derek’s incredulous look and begin giggling again.
It was a few minutes before Stiles managed to look at Derek without losing it, but he was still smiling like an idiot. “Come on,” Derek sighed, tugging him to his feet. “I don’t want to be here any longer than is absolutely necessary.”
“Figures that you’d get stuck in Fairyland and not want to get a good look around,” Stiles muttered, but he fell into step beside Derek, the corners of his mouth twitching every few seconds. “So how familiar are you with fairytales anyways?” he added a few minutes later.
“Too familiar,” Derek muttered. “Cora would always make me read them to her when we were kids. Or watch them with her. She wasn’t picky, as long as it involved princesses or magical talking animals.”
Stiles mouth softened into something wistful. “My mom was that way,” he said quietly. “I grew up on that stuff, ‘til she got sick. After that, I didn’t want anything to do with them anymore, until I found the Grimms Brothers versions of them. Scott can tell you, I was kind of obsessed with those for awhile.”
Derek nudged him with his shoulder. “To be fair, those are good too,” he said lightly. “Cinderella’s step sisters getting their eyes pecked out? Golden.”
Stiles’ laughter made his chest grow lighter.
It took a surprisingly short amount of time for them to reach the cottage that the dwarves had told them about. Stiles knocked on the door this time, ignoring Derek’s attempts to step in front of him. “The last thing we need is to be thrown into a different story because you decided to attack some of the most powerful creatures here,” he was whispering when the door opened and a young blond girl stood in the doorway.
“Hi,” Stiles said, turning back to her. “We need some help and heard that this was the place to go for it. I’m Stiles, this is Derek.”
The girl tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when it slipped from her braid. “Fauna!” she called behind her. “You and the girls have visitors!”
A plump woman that should’ve been short appeared just behind the girl. “Well, you two look out of place,” she said. “Come in, come in.”
The girl left only a few minutes later, once another fairy had settled Stiles and Derek onto a soft couch with cups of tea. “Now,” Fauna said, hovering in front of them. “What can I help you with?”
Stiles explained their situation, even including the werewolf pack and that Derek himself was one of them. “Where we live attracts a lot of supernatural beings like that,” Stiles admitted. “But none of them have ever sent us to another dimension before, if that’s what this is.”
Fauna nodded slowly and the third fairy, this one in blue, said suspiciously, “Why are you human if you’re in a pack of werewolves? Surely you should’ve been turned by now.”
“He’s our emissary,” Derek said quickly. When they didn’t react, he continued. “He’s got a spark of sorts. He’s almost like an elemental, but entirely human, and we’d prefer to keep him that way.”
“I take it your werewolves are different from what ours once were,” Fauna guessed.
“Depends on the wolf,” Derek answered honestly. “And the pack.”
They took turns answering the fairies’ questions for a few more minutes, but Derek was beginning to grow uneasy. “So…can you get us back home?”
“It depends,” Fauna said, tilting her head. “There’s got to be something that’ll link you specifically back to your home. Being a werewolf or human isn’t enough, because we’ve experienced both of your species.”
Seconds later Stiles had dug out his cell phone from his pocket, which read “no service” across the screen. “What about this?”
All three fairies came close enough to examine it, fascination written across their faces. “What is this?” the blue asked, entranced.
“A cell phone,” Stiles said uncertainly. “They’re pretty useful back home.”
“This’ll do,” Fauna decided, regaining sense quicker than her sisters (at least Derek thought they might be sisters). “Alright. I believe under different circumstances we could only do this one at a time,” and Derek was reaching into his back packet for his own phone, “but you two already have a bond that should be enough.”
“A bond?”
That was Stiles, and fuck. The blood was draining from Derek’s face and he felt his hands begin shaking just a little, because he hadn’t told Stiles yet. He hadn’t known how, and he was about to find out in the middle of a fairytale and suddenly all Derek could think about was how insane his life was, until Fauna began speaking again.
“Your bond,” she was saying like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Derek closed his eyes so that he didn’t have to see the realization dawn on Stiles’ face. “You two are connected by fate, at least here. It’s very strong. I’ve never seen a bond as solid as yours.”
Stiles’ heartbeat was picking up and Derek knew now that Stiles was staring at him but he kept his eyes on the empty cup in his lap. “Derek?” A hand curled around his wrist.
Fauna placed her hand over Stiles’, letting her finger brush against Derek’s skin, and held the cell phone in the other hand. Derek dragged his gaze up to Stiles as she began chanting in a language he didn’t understand, suddenly deeply afraid that this was the last time he’d be able to look at him like this. Stiles opened his mouth as if to say something, but there was a flash of light and they were suddenly standing in the middle of the library parking lot with a car honking loudly at them.
Stiles pulled Derek to the side. “Derek.”
Derek was shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t going to tell you, not like this, I didn’t…”
Stiles’ fingers tightened around his wrist and Derek felt his mouth snap shut, terrified of what Stiles was going to do, to say. But Stiles kept holding onto his wrist, using his other hand to dial a number on his cell, which had evidently made the trip with them. “Scott?” he said, ignoring Derek’s attempts to loosen the grip around his wrist and shooting him a look. “Yeah, we’re fine. We landed at the library.” A pause, then, “Okay, see you in a few minutes.”
Derek opened his mouth to say something again, but Stiles just said, “Shut up,” and didn’t really give Derek a choice in the matter, because he was leaning forward and catching Derek’s mouth with his own.