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His lungs were cold. It was because of the air, it was freezing out and he was breathing it in heavily. His chest hurt with the strength and exertion. So did his feet. His toes were so cold it felt as if they were burning. Thighs and calfs strained by how overworked they were.
Everything whisked by him with dizzying speeds, but still, he could tell how the world felt larger somehow. Trees taller, bushes thicker, and that endless black sky with a single speck of light. The moon, and it's full perfect circle.
There was a noise, it came from behind. Stiles didn't dare turn back and look. Somehow he already knew what it was, fear keeping his body moving, powering him through the pain and stress. He wanted to cry, but he didn't have the energy to spare. His face stiffened with the whipping winds that tore past his face, hurting his nose the most. Whatever he was running from, it was close, he knew that, and everything other than that one fact seemed unimportant.
Then, with the same amount of grace Stiles always seems to have. He tripped.
He closes his eyes and pressed his hands out to break his falls, sticks, and rocks digging painfully into his palms. Now that he wasn't running the energy to cry just came chasing at him. The chase was over. Whatever he was running from was going to get him for sure now. He didn’t have the strength to stand back up. He felt like he had been running for days. His untrained body couldn’t maintain that speed on anything but adrenaline and now that he was down, he was all tapped out. He was gasping for air, between soundless sobs.
Twigs snapped next to him. Alerting him to its presence. He dare not open his eyes, he didn’t want to see the thing that was going to end his life. He didn’t want to be frightened even more in those last few seconds. All he could think about was his dad. How he was going to be left alone. Then came the thoughts of his mother, and how he might be able to see her again. That brought a little peace to his mind. Fear receding a little, he cracked his eyes open.
Blue, that’s the first thing he saw. Of course, it was. It was so dark out that neon blue could be seen for miles. Then there was a second dot of blue, and as his eyes adjusted as a figure became clear.
A wolf.
Now he remembered. The thing he had been running from.
Except, this one was smaller. Different somehow. Also, it was calm. Why was it just looking at him? It was panting, and it took a few steps to Stiles. Stiles shivered as fear ran up his neck. He was going to die now. He quickly tried to think of his father’s face. The last time he saw it, the last time he saw his father smiling.
The wolf hovered over him, and Stiles could feel its heat.
Then he woke up.
He was gasping when he woke up. He looked to the side of his bed, expecting a wolf to be standing there. When It wasn’t he looked to the other side. Once he saw that he, in fact, was safe, in his room, no wolf leaning over him for the kill, he sat back and took a breath. Shaking the panic off. That was the last time he would go to sleep thinking about wolf tattoos.
He was already a bad sleeper, being hyperactive all night, getting himself to even go to sleep was a task, now he had to worry about staying asleep? This didn’t bode well for his future.
**
Derek had a pretty intense night of sleep himself. When he finally went to sleep that is. He spent a great deal of time trying to decide what to do when he finally realized there was nothing to stress about. The kid might come back tomorrow. He might not. And if he did, Derek’s first order of business was to talk this kid out of getting a tattoo. He had impulsive written all over him and he wasn’t going to just tell the kid no because then he might go all the way out of town to get one somewhere else.
He seemed like he would do it, and some idiot gave that kid a license so he really could. Once that was out of the way, Derek went straight to sleep. The rest would solve itself.
Then there was his dream.
He was running, chasing something, or simply following it. He could tell he wasn’t running as fast as he could, he had slowed himself on purpose. So it wasn’t something he was trying to catch. He could smell something. It was a scent, and it was strong. It was coming from ahead of him. The thing he was following. It was a bad scent making his stomach hurt.
What was it?
He remembered something Peter had told him. Something about emotions, and how you can catch most of them from a scent.
Fear.
That’s what it was.
The thing he was chasing was afraid? Was it afraid of him?
No.
There were some other scents. Other wolves, some his pack, some unfamiliar, and the thing in front of him was none of the above. The other scents were all coming from behind him, disappearing into the night. They were moving away from them. There was another smell, coming from the thing he was following. It smelled like a rusted steel ruler… or like… iron?
Blood. It was the smell of blood. The thing in front of him was bleeding. Then Derek heard it. A sob. The thing had stopped running. It was right there in front of him. He circled it a few times. He knew this. This motion. Its when you protected the area with a circle of your scent. Once something breaks the circle of scent you can immediately tell, and you can go onto the offensive. Its something you did when packs needed to find a place to rest, where they would be safe.
Derek was protecting this thing. After he was sure the circle of scent was good enough he approached the thing.
It wasn’t a thing.
It was a person.
A little person.
That was laying down and crying. Derek stood there looking at it, he could smell the blood clearly now that the wind wasn’t whipping it through the air. It wasn’t a lot. Nothing to worry about at this moment, all that mattered now was resting and keeping the little person safe.
The little person looked up at Derek, tears in its eyes. Derek wanted to comfort the little person, so he walked over to him, and covered him with his body to warm him up, after all, it was freezing out, and the little person didn’t even have shoes on.
Then he woke up.
**
Stiles wasn’t able to go back to sleep after his dream. He wanted to avoid having it again. He didn’t trust his unconscious mind at the moment. So he got out of bed and drank some coffee. Which he took liberties with since his dad had already started his shift at the station. After about three cups of coffee, and he was ready to bounce off walls, he ran upstairs and decided to look up meanings of dreams.
According to the dream dictionary…
“A wolf symbolizes the guardian in our life. To dream of other wild dogs indicates that your emotions or feelings have been challenged. If you are chased by a wolf or a pack of wolves, this indicates you may have some depression in the future. Dreaming of a pet dog is a positive omen, and represents happy times ahead. The loyalty connected to wolves in general offers some sense of interpretation to your dream. Putting this simply, you have friends around who will provide you with loyalty and love. Seeing lots of wolves in your dream suggest great damage. Killing a wolf means that you will get rid of an enemy. If you dream that you have been bitten by a wolf tells that in the real life someone will make you mad. If you hear a wolf in your dream howling, this tells you to beware of thieves, or someone looking to rob you.”
Well, the last thing Stiles needed was someone making him mad. Or to be depressed in the future. But then again, report cards are coming out soon… maybe this is a real sign.
Step one, shred his report card when he got it.
Step two. He was late for school.
Stiles looked at the clock and saw he was ten minutes late in the first period. He almost forgot that he had school today. He rushed down the steps and grabbed his keys and bag, and was quickly out the door. He quickly drove to school, and by then he was only twenty minutes late. He would need to grab a pass from the front desk, but other than that it wasn’t too bad.
Except for one thing.
Stiles was still wearing his pajama pants…
Whelp. Too late to go home and change now.
So yes. He spent the entire day in his pajamas. He got a few odd looks but honestly didn’t care. It wasn’t like they were embarrassing pajama pants. They were just plain blue and black. So he brushed it off and went on as normal.
After lunch, Stiles went back to the tattoo parlor. He didn’t know what time they opened or closed so he decided to go at the same time he went yesterday. During Mr. Harris' class.
He drove over parked his jeep in the same spot he parked it yesterday and walked in. The store was the same as it was yesterday, which was a normal thing. Stiles didn’t know why, but he kind of expected it to have changed overnight.
Derek was standing at the counter flipping through a book when Stiles walked in. He looked up when the door closed behind Stiles.
“Hey,” Derek said, standing up, and closing the book.
“Hey,” Stiles said, walking over to the counter. He suddenly felt anxious, like some big pressure had befallen him.
“So, what can I do for you today?” Derek asked.
“Uh… I’m not sure… can I look around for a little bit?”
“Sure.”
Stiles immediately looked around. Not that he knew what he was looking for. He just didn’t like the attention that was on him. He looked at some of the necklaces and bracelets on the counter, and walls. Everything looked so cool. But he wasn’t interested in a necklace, or ring. He didn’t really know why he still wanted a tattoo. But he wanted it.
“Do you have anything blue?” Stiles asked.
“Blue…. Hmm... Depends on what you are looking for.” Derek said, walking from around the counter over to where Stiles was standing.
“A tattoo probably,” Stiles said with a shrug. Derek didn’t let his disappointment show. He was hoping the kid would grab a necklace and be satisfied with that.
“… well, I do have blue ink, if that’s what you are asking.”
“Not really… like do you have any tattoos that have blue in them already? Like were drawn with blue.”
“Hmm… yeah sure.” Derek grabs a book, with a few tattoos. Stiles flips though a few of them, but none catch his eye, or give him what he's looking for.
“Oh… um, not like that… you know the ones with the wolves? I want one with blue eyes.” Stiles said. He’d been trying to dodge saying that. For some reason he wanted it to already have the blue eyes, he didn’t want the guy to say he could just draw them in. He wanted it to be perfect. Not tampered with.
“A blue eyed wolf?” Derek said, stopping when Stiles asked. He didn’t have anything in the shop with blue eyes. Not a wolf at least. It was a strange request. At least for a guy who already came in here once looking for a tattoo not in the store?
“Yes… I had a dream about one… and I am thinking maybe that’s the tattoo I am supposed to get.”
“You had a dream about a blue eyed wolf?”
“Yeah. I was running in the woods, and I tripped and it was standing over me. It had black hair, and neon blue eyes.” Stiles explained.
Derek stood there looking stricken. Because suddenly the moles on Stiles’ face seemed familiar. Like the little person in his dream… maybe it wasn’t as much of a dream as he thought.