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Stiles had forgotten that Liam was at the loft, she had honestly forgotten that Scott had bitten him. She had basically forgotten everything except for Derek’s dick. As she sipped her coffee she smiled to herself at the memory of last night. The sex was fogging her already tired brain.

Peter was still sitting outside of Liam’s room, putzing on his phone. “Honestly, you two waited longer to have sex than any of us predicted. I guess Scott wins the Deadpool on that one,” Peter says without even looking up from his phone.

“Believe me, I have been trying but he is a man of steel,” Stiles smirks. Living with werewolves that have super smelling and hearing abilities means that being shy about stuff like sex was a thing of the past. It had taken a while to get used to it but now, two years after their supernatural indoctrination there was no longer a stigma around things like sex. It was freeing in a lot of ways, it was also really annoying in a lot of ways.

“Are you here to check on the newborn?” Peter asks, cocking his head towards the door to Liam’s room.

“Yeah, has he woken up at all?”

“Not yet, sure you don’t want to wait for Derek?” Peter asks with and eyebrow. They aren’t nearly as expressive as Derek’s but it is definitely a family trait. Laura and Cora both were just as expressive as Derek with their facial expressions.

“What are you saying Peter? Do I look like I can’t handle myself?” Stiles looks down at her Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department tee and her slippers, which have a fluffy wolf head on them, Scott had gotten them for her for Christmas this year. “On second thought, don’t answer that.”

Peter just laughs lightly and opens the door for her. He doesn’t close it though and he stands in the doorway just to make sure. The entire pack has been so protective of her since the summer, like at any moment she might break or spontaneously combust. She doesn’t mind the backup though, especially since she isn’t really supposed to be using her magic right now.

“Liam?” she asks from just inside the door. She doesn’t really want to startle the poor kid, gods know he’ll have enough to deal with, without Stiles standing over him when he wakes up.

“Where am I?” a groggy Liam asks, sitting up in bed. “What the fuck happened last night?” he was starting to panic a little now.

“Liam, it’s alright, you are safe, you’re at Derek’s house,” Stiles tries to calm him. He recognizes Stiles but he seems confused by the attire. “You stayed here last night after my car crashed on the way home from the game. Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah, some crazy dude was standing in the middle of the road and then he attacked Scott and you and I…” his face paled. He remember impaling the guy with his lacrosse stick.

“You did what you had to, and you probably saved Scott and I’s lives. If it makes you feel better you didn’t kill him,” Stiles shrugs. “You remember anything else?”

“He put his hand right through me, and Scott bit me,” Liam whispers, his hands searching his chest, expecting there to be a whole then looking down at his bandaged forearm looking a little horrified.

“You healed, which brings me to the next part,” Stiles sighed. This was pretty much her job because of her Emissary title but it didn’t make it easy. “You would have died if Scott hadn’t bitten you, but your life will never be the same. The good news, your alive and this is the best pack in the world, in my opinion. The down side, is that you are now a werewolf.” Liam is looking at her like she is insane. She feels a little insane so it doesn’t bother her too much. Stiles put on her sweetest smile and sipped her coffee.

“You are kidding me, is this some kind of like varsity lacrosse hazing or something?”

“No, no hazing here, it’s super dangerous. People actually die during hazing—”

“He doesn’t need the history of hazing Stiles,” Peter gently reminds her. Stiles nods and turns to Peter.

“I guess you had better just show him then,” Stiles says, letting Peter past her and going to lean up against the wall.

Liam screams, Stiles expected that though. Stiles nearly fell over every time someone shifted in front of her for the first six months of being in the know. She manages to calm him down and by then Derek is awake and had come to find them, and Scott had arrived. They walk Liam through the particulars of werewolfhood while Stiles changes and gets a round of coffees for everyone. She can’t hold five full cups of coffee though so she casts a cheap telekinesis spell, it only costs her a strand of hair.

The pack takes Liam out to the preserve and bonds as werewolves or whatever it is they do out there. Stiles works on some homework and even puts the finishing touches on her college admissions paper and sends off four applications; University of San Francisco, Beacon County Junior College, George Washington University, and UCLA. Three of the four are in California, one is even in Beacon Hills itself, but George Washington was in Washington D.C. and it had the best school for international affairs. She had only really talked about the three schools in California, her father was the only one that knew that she had wanted to go to George Washington U for forever.

The FBI had always been her goal but everything had changed her sophomore year when the supernatural invaded her life. She couldn’t help but think about everything that her life would have been without all the death and disruption that the supernatural brought. She tried to imagine Scott still struggling with asthma, she imagined Allison and Aiden alive, and Jackson never leaving for London. She imagines never knowing Malia, or Peter, or Laura, or Derek. No, that would never be her life. All of that was firmly stuck in another timeline of this world. And she knows that if she had the chance to never get involved she wouldn’t take it, she knows that this is the world she belongs in, but she can still dream about being in the FBI.

She thinks about if she should be bothering to submit applications in the first place, especially considering the fucking witch hunters that were after her.

The German grimoire that Jackson found in London arrives that afternoon. Stiles eagerly rips into the packaging. The book was old, probably 1700s if any of the other old books in her collection were anything to go by. The German was old school too so she and Lydia were going to have to work a bit harder to translate the pages. Lydia was setting up her computer so that they could digitally enter the translated text and scan in the original text. Stiles kept a strict inventory of all of her spell books. She had a scanned copy of each book in a separate folder then she had a document inside of that folder with the translation, if she had it, and also specific diagrams and references or notes. The physical books were here in the loft. Derek had set up a mini library and work space for her down in the warehouse/gym. She really craved a fully sealed restoring room though, so that the books could live in a temperature controlled and protected environment and most of the books she had could use some work.

It was in this office space that Lydia and Stiles worked on the new grimoire. It was literal torture for Stiles to read through these spells and not be able to do any of them. Lydia only struggled with the old style of German for the first thirty minutes, after that she rarely had to reference the translation guide. At exactly 3am Stiles went from standing to catatonic on the floor. Lydia screamed.

Three Venators stand around a massive ancient tree, lit by the full moon. Stiles kneels before the tree two of them holding fast to chains connected to manacles around her wrists. They tighten the chains wrenching her arms out to her sides. They pull away her shirt and force her head towards the ground, her shoulders screaming in protest. The third creaks towards her and takes a small metal rod the size of a pen to her back, burning deep runes into her skin down her spine as she screams but is unable to move. They tie her to the tree, wrapping the chains around the tree, her back bleeding, her throat hoarse from screaming. As they start to chant the tree goes up in flames. The tree burns and Stiles burns with it but she looks up drawn into the pitch black eyes of the venator.

Those were the same eyes that had been plaguing her dreams for the past months.

Stiles wakes screaming. Stiles’ lungs are burning and she feels like she’s been through a wood fire pizza oven. Derek is on the floor next to her looking horrified and the room she realizes smells a bit like burning meat, then she realizes that she is the one that smells like burning meat and her back is aching. She passes out again.

Deaton is standing over her when she wakes up this time. Her back feels better but she still has an overall crispy feeling. Deaton tells her that he was able to fully heal her back warning her that it might be sore for a few days. She knows that she’ll have the rune brands down her back for the rest of her life but right now that doesn’t feel like it’s going to be a very long time. She spends more time telling Derek, Deaton, and Lydia about the vision. They all think that they at least have until the full moon to figure something out.

Stiles made it to school by lunchtime. Derek had argued with her about going to school after last night but she couldn’t just sit around waiting to die, so she went to Honors Physics. Lydia looked exhausted so at least she had someone to commiserate with when Mrs. Cavalin gives them dirty looks. Stiles had already missed more school than was acceptable and the only reason her and her friends were still enrolled was because Lydia’s mom is the new principle.

School was just about as rough as Stiles had expected. She and Lydia slept in the Corolla during lunch while Scott and Kira went off campus to pick them up some coffee from the Moonlight Grind. They wake to Scott knocking on the passenger window.

She had Lydia drop her off at her house. She feels like she has barely been here. Her dad always comes to the loft for dinner when Stiles stays there so it hasn’t felt any different. When she looks around, she is instantly reminded of her mother. Claudia’s chair still sits in the corner of the living room near the bookcase. She remembers her mother picking out the couch, she remembers her parents sitting her down and telling her about her mom’s condition. Fuck she remembers sitting on that couch with Scott last year thinking that she would die of the same fucking thing that killed her mother.

That same couch called to her now and she collapsed, falling asleep instantly. Her nightmares were familiar but they were ones she hadn’t had since she was a child. They were nightmares of monsters in closets and the boogey-man, nice, normal nightmares.

Her dad is patting her on the head. “Hey kid, you’re home,” her dad said putting his gun and badge in the living room safe.

“I didn’t make dinner wanna order pizza?” Stiles asks, rubbing her eyes.

“You’re home AND you want to get pizza? Everything ok?” he asked, sitting next to Stiles on the couch. She leans her head on his should and lies to him.

“Everything’s fine, just up late last night with Lydia translating an old German grimoire.”

Since Stiles’ dad doesn’t really understand the finer points of magic he doesn’t usually press too hard. He’s also probably too excited over the prospect of pizza to really interrogate her. At dinner it would be more difficult to put up with the questions she is sure he will ask.

“Hey dad, want to invite Scott and Mrs. McCall over for pizza too?”

“Sure kid,” the sheriff went off to change.

Stiles called in a favor with Scott and asked him to cover for her tonight at dinner. He wasn’t happy about it but he pulled his weight and kept the conversation on lighter topics. Melissa and Scott stayed for a movie after dinner, Melissa falls asleep halfway through it and Scott takes her home.

“Hey dad, can you promise me that when I’m gone you’ll have dinner with Melissa at least twice a week,” Stiles said, sitting next to her dad on the couch, her head on his shoulder.

“Are you still trying to get us together?” Noah sighed.

“No, I just think that you might need someone, maybe you could spend some time with Derek too, I don’t want him to be lonely,” Stiles whispered.

“Stiles,” her dad turned to look at her seriously, “I’ll be fine when you leave for college, you don’t need to worry about me. I know that you’ve had to take care of me for most of your life but I need you to know that all I want is for you to do what makes you happy. That being said, I promise that I will keep having dinners with Melissa. As for Derek, I can’t make any promises but I’ll try.” Stiles teared a little and burrowed into her fathers shoulder, he put his arm around her and patted her shoulder. She and her father had always been close but Stiles was also far too used to lying to protect him. For the first time in the years since she met Derek she thought she might not make it through the monster of the week.

Stiles tossed and turned in her bed alone that night, she expected a nightmare that never came, the message had been sent already and she had been marked for death, literally. It had been difficult to convince Derek not to come over that night but she had managed. She just told him that she needed some alone time, she hadn’t really been alone in months. She caved and said that she would let Derek drive her to and from school the next day.

In the morning Stiles showered and took extra long in the hot water. It stung a little running over the brands on her back. Deaton had gotten them mostly healed but they still looked red and angry. There were six Enochian runes burned into her back, she looked at them in the mirror, examining and prodding each one. She dressed for school, a turtle-neck sleeveless crop top and a pair of black skinny jeans. She pairs it with a zip-front sweatshirt she stole from Derek’s closet. She tucks her nose into the sweatshirt, it still smells like him. She thinks about doing something with her hair then just scrunches up her face in distaste and decides to ask Lydia to braid it at school.

Her dad is at work already so the house is empty, but he left her half a pot of coffee and she gladly fills an obscenely large Star Wars themed travel mug and heads out to her driveway.

Derek was there waiting in her driveway right on time. He was also driving a new car specifically the Mercedes SUV that she had wanted him to get. Since his Camaro was totaled by the hunters and her jeep was totaled by venators they had been getting rides from other pack members. She had left exactly twenty seven pictures of the car taped up around the loft, each picture had a fun fact attached to it. One picture was of the inside the little speech bubble said ‘It comes with heated seats so I won’t freeze when you drive with your head out the window’. Deep down she knows that he actually thinks she is hilarious, but at this point he can’t give in, too much pride.

“Did you just get this cause you think I’m dying?” Stiles asked cheekily. Derek glowered at her flippancy. “Aw, come on Sourwolf that was funny!”

“Peter bought for me yesterday, apparently Peter thought all your picture were not only funny but also convincing, and I don’t find any of this situation funny Stiles.”

“Der, everything will be alright.”

“You don’t even believe that,” Derek shakes his head. He pulls into the high school parking lot and parks, they still have time before the first bell rings.

“Derek,” Stiles turns to him, “Sometimes I feel like I don’t know anything about you, and I get discouraged that Peter has told me more about you than you have told me yourself. But I realize that it’s a ridiculous idea, I may not know facts like; your birthday, or your mother’s maiden name. But I do know you, I know that you put up this tough exterior but you are just a werewolf marshmallow underneath. I know that you blame yourself for everything that happened with your family and that no matter how many times you hear that it isn’t your fault it doesn’t make the feeling go away. I know because you made Laura make chicken noodle soup to bring to me last year when I got the flu. And I know you blame yourself because I see what I feel it too, it’s survivor’s guilt, I read about it in psychology. What I’m trying, in a very round about way, to say that I know you, and I still want to be you and that isn’t going to change.”

“Stiles, I love you,” he says, looking her straight in the eyes, all marshmallow.

“I— I--” Stiles stutters, then she hears the bell ring, “I have to go to class. Bye.” He has the distinct look of understanding mixed with hurt, like he would understand someone not loving him back. She rushes and jumps out of the car and rushes towards the school.

Stiles feels terrible instantly, she had frozen. She had just gone through a speech about how much he means to her and how that could never change but still has this fucking inability to say I love you. Ninety percent of the time Stiles can’t keep her fucking mouth shut but she can’t say I love you? She wonders what part of her trauma ridden brain is responsible for that shit, and hopes that it’ll fucking get on board the Derek train, and soon. She stood in front of her locker banging her head against it and groaning when Lydia sauntered up with Kira.

“Uh, Stiles? You ok?” Kira asks.

“Oh yeah ya know, just wallowing in my own stupidity,” Stiles thumps her head against the locker one more time, just for good measure. “I need serious mental help.”

“We know,” Lydia shrugged, “but what exactly for this time?”

“Derek told me he loved me,” Stiles bit her lip nervously.

“And what did you say?” Kira asked worriedly.

“I said I had to go to class and basically threw myself from the car, and just after giving a speech about how much he means to me,” Stiles groaned and hid her head in her locker, which was full of small potion bottles filled with odd powders and herbs, if it got raided it would be one confused deputy. They probably wouldn’t even know what to do with her but considering a couple of those were poisonous in large doses she would probably be expelled.

“Yikes,” Kira sucks in a breath, “well at least Derek knows you really well and so he probably anticipated at least a little freak out.”

“Can the Venators just come kill me now so that I don’t have to relive that conversation ever again?” Stiles sighed. Lydia just snorted, in a very lady-like not at all piggish way, and Kira gave an uncomfortable nervous giggle.

“That is so not funny,” Isaac says from behind Stiles’ open locker door.

“It would be merciful, you didn’t see his face he was disappointed, and now I get to have the ‘I really care I just can’t say those fucking words cause I’m emotionally stunted’ conversation even though it’s basically a moot point considering I'm fucking dying Isaac. It’s irony, it’s not supposed to be overtly funny, you know this is why you aren’t the funny one,” Stiles snaps at Isaac. Isaac just flicks her in the forehead and walks away.

Stiles rubs her forehead and glares at the back of Isaac’s head. They argue a lot but she knows that Isaac is the closet thing that Derek and Scott have to a brother and he bridges that gap perfectly running interference when things are hectic. He is almost better at it than Stiles, almost.

The bell rings again and Stiles goes with Kira and Lydia to their AP History class taught by Kira’s dad. Mr. Yukimura is probably Stiles’ favorite teacher, he was always helpful and kind, not to mention always down to talk magic with Stiles.

The day slogs by and Stiles’ back aches. She has Lydia apply some salve to the brands at lunch and that marginally helps. Scott spends his day following Liam around and making sure that he can control himself. Liam spends the day trying to hide from Scott. By the time the school day ends Stiles is in a foul mood. Between homework and impending death there just doesn’t seem to be enough time for her to just be a teenager.

The pack goes to lacrosse practice, Lydia and Stiles sit in the stands. They see Mason there, Liam’s best friend. They invite him to sit with them, he doesn’t know about werewolves yet but they will probably have to let him into the inner circle sooner rather than later. As soon as he walks up Stiles can feel just a slight pulse of magic running through him. She knows, without quite knowing how, that he has a spark. It’s a small one but enough to pick up on. She makes a mental note to talk to Deaton and Derek about him. Maybe if he is interested he can take up some emissary knowledge.

Derek is leaning against the Mercedes SUV in the parking lot after school. He, Isaac and Scott are all standing outside of it talking, Derek’s eyebrows are knit together. Scott turns sharply to look at her, then they all do. Isaac looks perpetually annoyed, Scott looks like someone kicked his puppy, and Derek just looks tired, as tired as Stiles probably looks.

She had been trying to psych herself up to talk with Derek. There was so much that they needed to talk about but she had no idea where to start and even if she did know where to start she’s sure that she doesn’t have the answer to at least half the questions. But here she is, standing on the precipice of this fucking chasm of a conversation.

Stiles had stopped short in the middle of the parking lot, probably looking like an idiot just staring at them. Derek says something to Isaac and Scott who just walk away, Scott giving her one last Bambi look before getting into Kira’s car, Isaac follows him, hopping into the back. Stiles walks up to the Mercedes and Derek just opens the door for her.

They are half-way to Derek’s loft when someone finally talks. “So should we talk about the sex first or the Venators first? I mean we could always start with talking about how I have an inability to say the thing that I can’t say,” Stiles sighs. He looks sad in that moment, like everything that he thought they would be just didn’t live up to the hype. Stiles knew that she was hard to love, she had known that her entire life, she just didn’t want to rush love, she wanted Derek to be sure not that they had the luxury of time these days. She knew that there were reasons that she only had only Scott until the pack came along, why her father sighed through every conversation they had ever had.

Stiles picks at her fingernails in the silence. “I honestly have no idea where we should start,” Derek just looked straight ahead at the road, the window a scene of blurred green.

“Gods should this really be this hard?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never had to actually talk to someone else about any of this,” Derek grimaces.

“Great, you are a Sourwolf and I’m a manic witch. And neither one of us has any reference of a functional relationship. Not that it’ll matter since I am probably going to die in a couple days. What is the chance that we can have sex again? Cause I’d really like to do that again before I die,” Stiles chuckles morbidly.

“I would have gone with sardonic witch but manic works too,” Derek laughs. Stiles punches him in the arm, knowing that it would have zero effect.

“When did you get jokes Sourwolf?” Stiles laughs, then grows serious, “Sometimes I feel like I barely know you.”

“What do you want to know, you know I’d tell you anything,” Derek says as he pulls up outside the loft. It’s already dark out and her dad is working the night shift so she stays at the loft.

“What’s your favorite color?” Stiles asks as they climb the stairs.

“Green, but not bright green, dark green, like the forest at night. Yours used to be red but you don’t really even wear color anymore, you haven’t in a while.” They enter the loft, he leads her to his room.

“I accidently lit my red hoodie on fire during a spell gone wrong,” Stiles whispers, he slides his hands down her arms as he takes her jacket off. “Does it ever get any better? Missing the people that are gone? Feeling responsible?”

“No, but you knew that already,” Derek kisses her shoulder, his hands on the hem of her tank top, his thumb running along the underside of her breast. Stiles takes an uneven breath, her head lolling back as he kisses up her neck, biting at her skin lightly.

“Would you kick me out of bed if I called you daddy?” Stiles whispers. Derek freezes for a second then she feels the low growls reverberating in his chest. He grabs her thigh a little harder than normal bruising her a little but it only sends a peasant shiver down her spine, pooling in her center, as he lifts her legs up to wrap around his waist and walks her into his dresser. Her lower back hits the dresser rattling the drawers and she steadies herself with her hands behind her on the dresser. She sits at the edge of the dresser as Derek knelt in front of her, removing her jeans and underwear in one rough movement.

Stiles moans as his tongue finds her, licking and nipping up her inner thigh, his hands holding her splayed open for him. His breath on her driving her insane as he finally finds right where she wants him, licking a long stripe up her slit. Stiles wiggled her hips, thrusting lightly into Derek’s mouth.

“Behave,” he growled lowly. Stiles whined; she knew that she would do anything he asked.

“Yes daddy,” she panted, “please, please, I need more.”

“Tell me what you want baby.”

“Touch me.” She arched into his tongue as it slid up her slit again and again, his hands pinning her hips to the dresser. Her head thrown back against the wall, her thighs quaking.

“Is this what you want,” he teased her pussy with two fingers, playing with her, taunting her. Derek takes his fingers away from her pressing them to his tongue, “Fuck baby you taste so good.” His fingers return and disappear again, this time coming to her mouth. She sucks down his fingers, hollowing her cheeks, his fingers pressing against her tongue.

Derek focused on her clit again, sucking and biting and licking in tantalizing patterns. His fingers continued to tease her slit, pressing into her slowly and curling to hit just the right spot. Stiles shook with need; she thought she might explode from the building aching need. She clenched around his fingers moaning and panting through her orgasm.

“I’m going to flip you around and fuck you into the dresser now baby,” her panted in her ear. Then he did just that, entering her with a quick harsh thrust. The burn subsided instantly into biting pleasure. He grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head back and digging his other fingers into her hip. He groaned and fucked into her, hard. He kept a slow hard pace pressing as her fingers scratched at the surface of the dresser. Her toes barely touching the ground and her pussy clenching around Derek’s cock. She lifts one knee up onto the dresser giving him a better, deeper angle.

She mumbled words to the gods and moans of pleasure, his hand going from her hip to grip her ass harshly, his mouth working bites into her shoulder and back. Stiles could feel another orgasm building and with each thrust he hit the spot that made her clench and moan. “You’re doing so good baby, come for me, then I’ll come all over your ass,” he growled.

The praise and filthy words send her over the edge. Derek followed after a few more harsh erratic thrusts, she could feel stripes of his hot come as it painted her ass.

“Stay still,” he commanded, but the tone was sweet and caring. He held her ass apart and looked at her slick coated thighs then he opened a drawer by them and retrieved some wet wipes, wiping the come off her ass. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can talk,” Derek kissed her hair and led her into the bathroom.

The hot water felt good as it ran down her body. Derek caressed her shoulders rubbing circles, working the knots in her muscles. He tilted her hair back into the water. He got some of her shampoo and lathered up her hair. Stiles had never had someone take care of her like this, she was usually the one taking care of others. Derek’s fingers massaged her scalp first with the shampoo then with conditioner. He squatted in front of her gently washing her with a soapy loofa that he had bought specifically for her.

He had even picked up the same body wash that Stiles used at home. Derek wrapped her in a large fluffy white towel he dries her up and hands her a long sleeve t-shirt of his. The shirt hangs down to her mid-thigh and the sleeves are bunched in her hands. Stiles dries her hair with a towel and lotions her legs. She sits, spraying detangler in her hair and brushing it out while Derek trims his facial hair. The scene seems so banal to her, and for a second she forgets their problems, it doesn’t last long. The moon shines in through the large windows in Derek’s room, it’s almost full.

“So I guess we have to talk now?” Stiles asks. She sits cross legged on Derek’s bed sipping a tea mix that she had brought with her from her garden. Derek stayed in the chair by the window, a safe distance away. Since they started dating, they had trouble keeping their hands off each other and having some distance in between them was usually the only way they could get through a conversation.

“Yeah probably a good idea,” Derek rubbed he back of his neck. He was in sweatpants that hung tantalizingly low on his hips. He was shirtless and barefoot and Stiles tries not to think about that too hard because they really needed to talk and she was already sore from the sex they had thirty minutes ago.

“Can you put a shirt on then, cause it’s distracting,” Stiles says waving her hand in his general direction. Derek chuckles but puts on a shirt as requested. “Never mind, take it back off.” Derek laughs but ignores her request.

“We should probably start with the sex,” Derek shrugs.

“Der, we just had sex but it you let me finish my tea I’m positive I could go for a round two,” Stiles jests. Derek just scowls with his insane eyebrows and Stiles laughs.

“We broke the one rule that I set for us,” Derek looked dejected.

“Yes, but only by like a month. So I think overall it’s a win. And we may not have another month so I’m just glad I’m not dying a virgin in the penetrative sense. I also am mighty curious as to where you got so good at after care.”

“I’m not a dom Stiles and stop saying that you are going to die.”

“Whatever you say Daddy,” Stiles shrugged. Derek kept glaring at her. “Ok, ok, I’ll be serious, I promise.”

“I don’t think I could live through something happening to you.”

“I’m sorry Derek, I don’t know if we will get that luxury. I know that the pack will do everything in their power to stop the venators but when I had that vision, I felt how final it was, like it’s already happened and this is just borrowed time. Which means that I need to ask for a favor,” Stiles takes a deep breath. “If I die,” Derek’s scowl deepens, “Stop that. If I die I need you to take care of my dad. I know it’s a lot to ask but I really need to know that he will have someone there for him if I can’t be there. He thinks that he is fine on his own but he needs someone to make sure that he is eating enough vegetables and not drinking too much.”

Derek rubbed his face, he looked tired and overwhelmed all at the same time but he just nods at her.

“I also need you to rub salve on my back cause it really fucking hurts,” Stiles shifted uncomfortably. Derek got the salve from her bag and sat on the bed with her.

“Are you seeing Argent tomorrow to talk about the venators?” Derek asks as he rubs the herbal smelling salve onto her back.

“Yeah, Lydia and I are going to head over there after school and take a look at his resources. He said that there were four of them but in my vision there were only three, I think the story about the one dying, I think it might at least be somewhat true, which means that they can be killed. I just don’t know if we can find the answers in time. But that’s ok because I have everything I could ever want,” tears were coming down her face steadily. Derek pulls her to his chest and holds her until she falls asleep.

Derek is wrapped around her when he wakes up. He nuzzles into her hair and takes a deep breath. She still smells like shampoo, vanilla, cinnamon, and the distinct metallic twinge of blood magic. He wakes her up gently and makes coffee while she gets dressed. They don’t say much but they stand close together moving like magnets around each other.