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Well, at least when he died of embarrassment, the view would be nice.
The clearing gave a perfect view of the night sky, not a cloud in sight. On a regular night, the area would be brightly lit by the moon, but on the night of a new moon? Only the stars were there to provide light, but it was more than enough to see by, especially with the heightened senses of a werewolf. Which meant that Derek could easily see the two dozen pixies surrounding him.
One versus two dozen made it sound like getting overwhelmed was expected, except that the pixies were only the size of the first knuckle of Derek's thumb. Not to mention that he had been tricked into an ash circle by the pixies with nothing more than the sound of Stiles' voice and bit of crunching leaves.
Derek would say Stiles could never know, but somehow…he would know. In a way, Stiles knowing was the best possible outcome. If anyone else in the pack learned how the pixies got him, they would tell everyone else. At least with Stiles there was a chance of maintaining his pride with the others.
"You got me," Derek huffed, his blue eyes flicking from one pixie to the next, "Now what do you want with me?"
As a group, the pixies held up their hands and growled in an admittedly adorable facsimile of an angry werewolf. Then they burst into laughter. It still didn't tell Derek anything new. The pixies hadn't explained why they were playing pranks on the people of Beacon Hills.
"What will make you stop and leave this town?" Derek tried again, baring his teeth.
The pixies glanced between each other, shrugged. Then, as if they had forgotten Derek was even there, the pixies began to fly around each other, doing tricks and flips and making each other giggle. Derek growled in frustration, but they didn't appear to notice.
At this rate, they would wander off to pull more pranks, leaving Derek in the ash circle for who knew how long. If he literally died from dehydration while trapped in this circle in the woods, he would be so ticked.
Slowly, Derek became aware of a glitter in the air. Sparkles like bits of starlight blinked in and out of existence here and there. More and more of it appeared, twinkling, shimmering, until the clearing was brightly lit. The pixies couldn't ignore that and stopped their games to look around in curiosity. A few tried to catch the sparkles, but each time they got close, the light vanished.
Derek closed his eyes and sighed. If the pixies hadn't made the lights, then that meant—
"Hey, Scott, I think you owe me lunch," Stiles said, announcing his arrival. "I was right."
One of Stiles's hands was glowing. Or, rather, the item he held loosely in his palm was glowing. Beside him stood Scott, his eyes not glowing like an alpha—or even an angry beta. He glanced from the pixies to Derek and gave his own sigh.
"Tell me you didn't bet on me already being here," Derek said, crossing his arms.
Stiles shrugged, his lips pulling up into a grin. "No." Before Derek could relax or call him on his lie, Stiles continued, "I bet they pranked you." His eyes flicked down to the ash circle and back up, his grin growing.
Yeah. He was never living this down. Derek rolled his eyes to the sky and wished he could go back an hour to not fall into the pixies' trap.
"Not to be rude," Scott said, taking a step toward the pixies, garnering all of their attention, "but you need to leave."
A few of the pixies puffed up their cheeks in indignation.
Scott motioned to the forest around them. "This land is claimed and protected. Whether you meant harm or not, you're hurting the people of this town, and we can't allow that."
Sometimes, when Scott spoke, Derek was reminded of his mother. She had been an impressive and valiant alpha, had commanded respect without saying a word. When Scott spoke in defense of Beacon Hills, he was every bit the alpha Talia had been. And then the danger would pass and Scott would say something ridiculous and he would be back to being a kid in Derek's eyes—no matter how old he got.
The pixies didn't look nearly as moved as Derek felt.
"If you won't leave of your own accord," Scott said, his voice growing harder, "then we can make you."
Stiles closed his fingers around the object in his palm and all of the twinkling lights froze in the air. He swung his arm from side to side and the lights coalesced into a single streak of light, waving wildly through the air of the clearing. When he threw his hand out forward, the streak swung back toward the pixies. They scattered, but the light chased them. It was a short few seconds before one of the pixies yelped and fell to the ground. Stiles opened his palm and the lights spread out into harmless specks once more.
"That's for the little girl you put in the hospital," Stiles growled, as fiercely as any beta. Derek's chest warmed. "The rest of you?" Stiles motioned to the pixies now spread out around the clearing. "You wanna make a bet who can be more annoying? Me or you? Cause I like my odds."
He waved the object around as an example of what he could do, as if promising he could be way worse. As the recipient of Stiles' brand of revenge humor over the years, Derek had to agree with Stiles's odds.
With the pixies looking less confident, Scott spoke up again. He pointed away from the town. "Find somewhere else to play," he ordered, only now flashing his eyes.
For a moment, nothing moved in the clearing except the flickering lights. Then two of the pixies darted down to the grass to pick up their fallen friend. The zapped pixie's wings fluttered weakly, so it was alive, but Derek didn't doubt it wouldn't be flying on its own for a long time. Just like the little girl with the broken leg.
With grumbling and chittering, the pixies headed in the direction Scott had pointed. While they glanced back a few times, looking put out, none of them tried to pull a last-minute prank, so they probably wouldn't be back anytime soon.
Only once they were gone did Stiles drop the item in his hand. Derek had just a moment to recognize it as a plain, smooth rock before all the lights went out at once, leaving only starlight behind. Stiles made his way forward in the new dark, stumbling over his own feet, and crashed into Derek face first.
"Still clumsy," Derek said, but he was smiling as he helped Stiles stand up right.
"Oh shut up. My eyes don't adjust as quick as yours," Stiles grumbled. Then, still holding onto Derek, Stiles broke the ash circle. "And at least I didn't fall into a pixie trap. Tell me, how'd they get you?"
Derek didn't answer, just left the remaining circle and pulled Stiles along with him.
"Hey, whoa, okay, so this is how it is, huh?" Stile asked as he stumbled, then managed to get his feet under him properly.
"They used Stiles, didn't they?" Scott asked as they reached him. His voice was put upon, like he was unhappy to be correct before even receiving a confirmation.
"What?" Stiles let out, then glanced between his alpha and his boyfriend. "Wait, really? They did?" Derek pointedly looked away and Stiles crowed. "I was half-joking, but hell yeah. Scott, you owe me a new set of tincture bottles!"
Scott sighed and motioned for them to follow, then began walking back toward town. As they walked, Stiles explained when they had realized Derek was missing and how they tracked the pixies and the spell he'd put on the stone so that his attack could fly faster than a pixie. And the whole time, he kept his hand and Derek's entwined, even swinging their arms back and forth absently. His medication must have been wearing off for the night.
When they reached Rosco, Stiles released Derek's hand to fish his keys out and then hopped into the driver's seat to turn the Jeep on.
Folding his arms, Scott said, "Man, you gotta stop being so predictable." He kept his voice light, teasing. "Stiles keeps winning our bets."
"Hey, I like that he's predictable when it comes to me," Stiles retorted.
Being honest, Derek also liked being predictable when it came to Stiles. He liked that Stiles knew him well enough to win every bet he made with Scott about it. He liked that Stiles knew that he was the exception whenever Derek told the others to leave him the hell alone, so he got to watch Stiles tinker around with new emissary stuff and try out little spells until Derek's sour mood lifted. He liked that Stiles knew his favorite foods, and places to hang out, and favorite hobbies, and secret favorite colors. He liked that Stiles knew all of that about him but didn't use it to hurt him. But he wasn't going to admit that to Scott.
Lips lifting in a grin of his own, Derek opened the passenger door then said, "Maybe you should stop making bets with Stiles. Soon, you'll owe him a house."
He hopped up into the Jeep to the sound of Scott's spluttering and Stiles's laughter, and he liked the sound of both.
…
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fin