2: Spark – part 4

As they reached the Stilinski house, Derek was the one to pack away the groceries and make lunch. Simple PB & J sandwiches since those were never wrong. Of course the toddler didn't eat as much as she usually would, with eating a bag of candy but it also made her crash harder. Obviously Stiles hadn't counted on werewolf digestion, which was way faster than a human's.

The wolf had put Beth to bed, giving them a few hours, which he knew was going to be intense so there was some dread as he walked downstairs but at least he didn't run off. This was for a good cause, this was for him.

While Derek was busy putting Beth down to sleep, Stiles half-slid down on the couch with a full belly and a little exhausted sigh. As much as he loved spending time with the little monster and her dad, he barely got a couple of hours sleep during the night. A few quiet minutes just zoning out while he was staring into nothing was nice. He nearly started dozing off, but when he heard Derek's barely audible footsteps – he was sure that he moved like this on purpose for him to hear his approach which was a nice change from simply popping up out of nowhere – Stiles pulled himself up into a sitting position and fired up his laptop.

By the time Derek walked into the living room, he was munching on a red strawberry-flavored Twisters. He looked up at the other man with the candy sticking out at the corner of his mouth. Picking it out, he gestured with it for Derek to sit down next to him.

"So..." Derek murmured not moving yet, which didn’t seem to bother the other man.

"So..." Stiles eyed him for a few moments, biting off some of the candy to chew on it. He needed a moment to decide where to start this too. Not that he couldn't have started blurting out his thoughts and questions unfiltered, but this was a serious and delicate topic. He knew that in the past he had hurt people (probably including Derek) with the lack of his mouth-filter but since then he had learned to control it – more or less.

"So... the grandkid of a devil, huh?" he blinked up at Derek with a small amused smile. "Explains a lot," he winked then hummed. "How... Eh, never mind. I'm curious though, what would've happened if your demon side wasn't sealed away and you grew up with it? And... did I understand correctly that you gave up that side to free Beth and yourself? Isn't it better this way? I mean... you seemed to be afraid of that side of you. If we manage to bring your missing half of a soul back, I'm not sure if it is going to be this demon side or something else entirely. I mean... there's no exact science for soul-related things and I'm definitely not a pro... But we can dig deeper and see what we can come up with. We also might need some... external help. Like a witch who practices such spells..." he mused, taking another bite.

Stiles was exhausted, his pale complexion said as much, as well as the fact he was drinking and eating as many sugared products as possible for energy. Tomorrow morning Derek would take some time to play with Beth upstairs when she was awake so the other would be able to sleep in a little at least. Carefully Derek sat down with a bottle of water, trying to ignore the way Stiles chewed on the candy.

His eyes lowered at the teasing, knowing it was meant to keep the topic light but it hit a little too close to home. It did explain a lot even though he had told himself there had been something good about him. All these years of helping others, of giving up his own life and safety repeatedly for others to undo the damage he had done as teen. Only to be related to a devil, closely related. Having demon blood. There was nothing good about him anymore, with or without a soul.

"It was locked away for my own protection. Hybrids like me aren't safe, they are hunted by more than hunters. I doubt I would have been alive for long if it hadn't been locked away." Considering how other werewolves had reacted to him, it would have also excluded him from the pack.

The questions raised were good ones, though, because he had thought about it himself, why would he want it back? "Everything I feel is muted now, barely there. There's a constant aching emptiness and it got worse now that my bond with my ex is… gone. Another part of me disappeared. I'm little more than a vessel." An easy target to use for demons. Clearly if this wasn't something he could fix, he'd be okay with it – for Beth he'd give the rest of his soul away too.

Who knows what was left of the half he had given away, stuck in Hell like that, part of a demon. It could be corrupted, it could be something he shouldn't want back. "At least in the past I cared, it may not have looked like it to you or others, but I cared. I felt deep anger, I felt sadness, joy. Now the most intense emotion I can feel is when I'm in pain."

Truth be told, Stiles didn't expect Derek to be so direct with his answer. And so open. He wasn't that used to seeing this man so vulnerable. Yes, he had allowed for Stiles to take a few glimpses of it in the past. Now... now he wondered if it was because he trusted Stiles more or because he was just... too desperate. Either way, the younger man stopped chewing on his candy and swallowed hard. It hurt him to see Derek like this more than he expected.

With the remaining string of candy in one hand, the other hesitated for a moment but then he put it on Derek's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "We knew you cared. I saw it even when it was hidden more behind your seemingly irrational actions," Stiles said then shrugged. "But it's bullshit. You are still more than just a vessel. You are a great father. You still care. You care for your daughter. You love your daughter. Only the blind cannot see that. You went through literal Hell and came out of it sane. That's an achievement not many can tell about themselves, I'm sure. Also, you care about my dad. I see the gratefulness in your eyes when you look at him," he continued, his cheeks slightly coloring from his next thought, which he didn't voice as it was more like wishful thinking. Maybe Derek cared a bit about him too. At least as a friend.

Then Stiles paused as that certain 'I just understood a possible connection' kind of expression got on his face as he thought about the 'missing ex bond'. Perhaps it was a lead he could follow up later. As for the 'locked up demon' part, Stiles didn't want to prod it more because clearly it wasn't something Derek liked to talk about and Stiles was no expert in werewolf-demon hybrids, at all. But he wondered if Derek had grown up with that part, would've it been just as much of an integral part of him like being a werewolf? Would've they been able to find that same balance? Stiles was kinda positive about that. After all, Derek was much stronger than he looked or what he accepted about himself. Besides, he was an evolved wolf too. Not many managed to go through that either...

The hand on his shoulder was a familiar comfort offered by Stiles. Over the years it had been the gesture he'd use on Derek when he was uncertain if touch was welcomed but he still felt the need to. Because he knew it was one accepted, one the werewolf allowed him to. It was actually close to how a pack would comfort, they'd grab the back of the neck to lightly squeeze. It helped ground and anchor, while scenting the other. Derek always grabbed near the neck if he touched pack, had touched. Not anymore.

An amused huff left him when Stiles claimed he came out of Hell sane, because that was far from the truth. Half the time he wasn't sure if what was happening was actually real, he expected to wake up at any moment to be back in Hell and find out it had been a warped reality again. He had trouble controlling his anger, wanted to murder and kill often and he longed for the release pain would bring, a momentary lapse in the numbness. There were night terrors, triggers, an open brokenness even Stiles was picking up on. But he was used to having everything taken from him, used to having to start over on life, used to dealing with his own brokenness so it gave him a coping mechanism.

"So then... this is starting to narrow things down a bit regarding our research," he said, finally letting Derek's shoulder go (and yes, it seemed it was still 'touching Derek' day). He tossed the candy in his mouth and wiped his fingers in his jeans before reaching for his laptop. He put it on his lap and went into a folder on the desktop. It listed out over a hundred files he had saved down the previous night. He began scrolling through them, sometimes deleting them right away, other times just after he opened and skimmed through them while mumbling things like 'soul links,’ ‘witchcraft’ and ‘soul healing'.

"There are no other werewolf demon hybrids, not ones from a devil bloodline." There was no need to be a mind-reader, Derek knew Stiles well enough to know the human was thinking about it. There was nothing to research, he had tried himself, there were no answers to gain there. But he still considered it better to be an abomination than to be half of what he used to be, half of what he could have been. So if there was a way to get his soul back, then he'd take it.

The weight of the hand was gone, it had taken a moment for him to realize why the spot on his shoulder felt cold suddenly. Instead Stiles was busy clicking away on the laptop and he went back to quietly watching him. The word witchcraft fell, making him frown. The idea of witches helping him seemed farfetched and uncomfortable.

"Huh... Didn't expect that," Stiles hummed absentmindedly to Derek's comment. "How could you be so sure? I mean... During all the thousands of years no other hybrid like you was born in all the dimensions?" he thought out loud more to himself as his fingers paused over the keyboard and he stared into the air over the laptop's screen, clearly thinking over the information to adjust his train of thought and to where to take the research.

Glimpsing at Derek he noticed that frown, which made Stiles sigh, not even pausing from the fact that Derek had kinda answered his unsaid question. It happened a lot of times between them.

"Look, I know witchy business is usually a tricky one, but I do know a trustworthy one in San Francisco who owes me a big favor. I could ask her to look into it discreetly through her own channels," he smiled at Derek reassuringly and also questioningly. What he didn't tell to him yet was that Stiles also had some studying sessions with said witch to understand the basic principles of magic in case he bumped into it during his work or in Beacon Hills in the future. Yes, as always, he tried to be prepared for anything. If his teenage years had taught him anything then it was this.

"I don't have access to the information of other dimensions. There's nothing in the Bestiary, nothing in the books in the vault and the few hunters and angels I know were unfamiliar with it too." To attempt to contact other dimensions was dangerous, nor did they know who to contact about it. Derek wasn't so eager to advertise himself like that either. It would only create chatter about it, it would draw in new enemies, it would gain too much attention. The Hale hated being the center of attention, he was more the type of a person to be in the background, hidden away.

It was one of the reasons why he wasn't so keen on involving a witch, no matter how trustworthy she was. He didn't trust witches, had nothing but bad experiences with them, well, except one but they mostly bantered together. The few times they saw one another. She seemed to be okay, not that it said much because he didn't know her. She was powerful but he wasn't going to involve her, there were no favors owed there, she'd want to get something in return.

"You better trust her with your life because I don't want people finding out what I am." The angels weren't going to talk, they had no assignment to bother with werewolf hybrids, he wasn't something they liked but he wasn't a threat like a Nephilim would be.

Hunters would disagree though, witches maybe too. He'd rather be the failed alpha of Beacon Hills, nothing about that would make them want to come check it out. "I've been cursed by a witch before, I don't want a repeat of that. Or get his attention back on me." Not likely, he wasn't of interest anymore, thankfully.

Stiles listened to Derek and nodded along a few times. He expected the carefulness and unease regarding involving a witch. But frankly, Stiles didn't think that whatever he might find online could get them to the solution. This problem was too deeply rooted in real mythical creatures and magic and all those things you couldn't really Google on the internet. Not even in the deeper and darker sides of it. He would rather ask an expert in magic to help than rely on a dubious source of information from the deep or dark web or any books they might find.

"You know that I am good at sensing people's intentions. I don't trust easily either. But I do trust her. And she owes me her life. She's a white witch whom I saved from death a while back. She sometimes gives me advice in my cases too and I've learned this and that from her," he winked with a small smile. "So yeah, if I think she's trustworthy, then she very likely is. The question is: do you trust my judgment?" he raised a brow at Derek. "Besides, you don't even have to meet her. I can meet up with her in Frisco once I go back and see if she can dig up something. If not, then we try to find something else and she won't know anything about who you are or where you are. If yes, then it depends on what she might find. I suspect that it could involve a powerful ritual as we are talking about mending your soul. In that case her presence will be probably required," he explained, scratching the back of his head as he talked about the options they might have with the witchy solution.

"But of course, it all will depend on what she might find and what you decide," he added, eyeing Derek. "Nothing is a must. I'm just talking about our options here. Because we'll have to follow up any leads that might help solve our problem."

Part of Derek thought that it couldn't get much worse than being in Hell so a witch shouldn't bother him as much. Stiles was smart, the perfect researcher but there was only so much he could do with the information he had. There was so little known about any of this so he didn't think they'd be getting anywhere, not because he doubted Stiles' skills but because there was so much at work with this and souls weren't an easy thing, it was complex and beyond any of their knowledge.

"I trust your judgment of people, not situations. Magic, Stiles, really?" As if the human wasn't enough of a target with the way he fraternized with supernaturals and ran with wolves, literally. To be fair, he had thought this would have happened sooner, with the affinity Stiles had with mountain ash. There was talent there, he had wielded the ash far too easily and there was a reason the Nogitsune picked him over Scott and Allison even though all three had left the door open to darkness.

"Yeah, well... Thanks, I guess?" he chuckled leaning back against the couch, his fingers drumming a rhythm on his laptop. Derek had a point with how he reacted to situations, but he got better at it during the years. Or so he thought.

"And what did you expect?" he raised a brow again. "I needed some basic knowledge about magic. And maybe a bit of a dabbling in it too to be able to protect my tiny human ass from spells and all. Plus, she said I have talent there, so why not?" he shrugged. "Nothing dark or dangerous though. I had my fair share of dark and dangerous before. I wanted to learn a bit to protect others and myself."

It was true. He didn't want to keep the door open for darkness and entities that might exploit that. He needed some extra help to be able to deal with what had happened to him. This was a good way to get through those horrors and to start building back up his confidence – and also to regain control over his own body after the trauma. For Stiles it was a natural step in his evolving. He didn't think twice about it as he felt that it was the right thing to do. And with the help of this witch he had learned more about how to trust his own intuitions and power.

"But don't worry, I'm not going to be the next Gandalf," he joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Magic is always dangerous because others will smell it on you." Though it would be kind of hypocritical of Derek to object to wanting to defend oneself. As werewolf it was easy to forget others didn't have the same chances in fights as he did. He disagreed, it needed to be magic because the Argents didn't use it and Chris was one of the toughest to defeat, so had been Kate before she had turned into a werepanther hybrid. With the detective training, Stiles was already doing a lot to defend himself, guns were just as effective in a fight, even with supernaturals if the right bullets were used.

He wasn't worried about Stiles becoming the next Gandalf. That would take years and years of practice. He was worried about the human painting more of a target on his back. And Derek wasn't there to protect him, keep him safe. He was all alone in the big city, not even a new pack in sight. Which gave him an idea. He could reach out to the pack there, ask to keep an eye on the younger man. Stiles wouldn't agree with it, would probably hate the idea. It was why he wasn't going to ask permission for it. As long as he didn't know, it wouldn't hurt.

"Well, being a werewolf is always dangerous too because those who can smell magic can smell the wolf too. Plus, my options are more limited and I try to be diverse and widen my knowledge beside guns – which can totally fail or run out of bullets or get taken away – when it comes to protection," Stiles shrugged as he flipped the pen in the air a few times. He could tell that Derek was really not fond of him learning about magic (or practicing it). Stiles could tell that it came from worry for his safety, not from his general dislike of magic (perhaps thanks to that curse that was put on him in the past). But he really felt like he needed this additional skill and not even Derek Hale could have persuaded him otherwise. Even if it might make him a target in the future. Stiles was confident that if it came to that, he would be able to defend himself and others if needed. "Besides, magic is my last resort. I'm better with my guns for now."

"Werewolves don't have a choice, usually. They are what they are." He thought humans were just as resilient in protecting themselves, they didn't need the extra power but Stiles thought differently. And if there was one thing Derek knew about him, was that changing his mind was near impossible. Stilinskis were as stubborn as they could be. He did have something over Derek though. "I'm still an amateur with guns." Braeden had taught him to use one when he had been temporarily human but as soon as he had been back to werewolf, the guns had been left behind. He didn't like them still but for humans they were a good defense. He was worse with a crossbow. Not everything came easily to him because he was a werewolf.

"Okay, fine, you can ask your witch friend." It was said with the conviction of it being a dead end, the whole 'I don't care' attitude. Mostly because Stiles was going to anyways. With or without Derek's say. "Tell her she can have anything except Beth. I'm not picky about the rituals or if it involves pain." Though he would draw the line if there would be others involved. He was not going to play with the lives of others. This had been his own fault, nobody had to pay for his mistakes. "So we're done with the search for a way to get my soul intact?" It seemed like they were stuck already and he didn't know what else he could tell which would help. "It's fine if we are."

Stiles gave Derek a brilliant smile once he got the green light from him about the witch question. It was easier this way than going behind Derek's back. Because he would if that meant he could help on him. "Alright. I'll ask for a meeting with her. But don't worry, I won't let Beth get into this. I won't even mention her," he said more seriously as he, himself felt like protecting Beth was a top priority here.

Putting down the laptop, Stiles huffed. "Oh come on, Derek... Do you know me like someone who'd give up on research just after one day because digging up the good stuff proves to be more difficult? Nah, I'll continue, see what I can find. But don't fret, my dear Sourwolf, I stop grilling you now. You can relax," he chuckled, picking up his pen and started to play with it to do something with his usually restless hands.

Crossing his arms, Derek frowned at nothing in particular because if the grilling stopped, then he had no idea how to relax. He didn't really do that. For a moment he kept sitting there quietly before he gave up on pretending to 'relax', heaving a sigh. They never hung out like this, unless Stiles had been doing research and Derek would read a book.

"I usually watch Netflix when Beth is sleeping." Yeah, big bad sourwolf living it up big time. He was so far removed from everything, it started showing when there was nothing to fight, when his goal in life was to actually live and not survive. "I don't really know how to... relax."

Stiles tossed the pen back down on the table. It landed neatly on his notebook, which made him grin to himself before he looked back at the visibly tenser Derek. As if the concept of relaxing made him frustrated because he wasn't sure how to do that. "Netflix and chill is the definition of relaxing, dude!" Stiles smirked and snatched the remote control as he slid lower on the couch, putting his legs up on the edge of the coffee table, not caring that his tee rode up a bit on his waist from this pose.

"We could watch the Good Place to cheer you up. Or some classic like the Matrix... or oh, oh... Sherlock Holmes! Or the John Wick movies! Gawd, Netflix is the bestest, I swear. So much good stuff to choose from," he babbled punching the right buttons to navigate on the TV. "What are you in the mood for? You have a say in our first 'chill out with Netflix' afternoon," he blinked at Derek expectantly.

The reveal of skin had the wolf distracted, not necessarily relaxed because of that little glimpse. It made him groan inwardly because he was an idiot, one sliver of skin and he stopped thinking like some teenager. Oh right, he was supposed to pick something from Netflix, as if he knew what was all on there. He had binge watched on a few shows the past weeks, spread out on the couch because he hadn't had much energy for much else.

"Justice League," he murmured, because there had been a time he was all up to date with movies, computer games, comics... After the fire none of that had seemed to matter anymore and he had focused on reading, gaining as much information as possible. Only in the past years had he returned to his geek ways, catching up on every movie he had missed, buying comics again. Unfortunately his collection was in DC where he wasn't welcome anymore so he was going to have to start new, which was fine. Just not much of a priority. He had liked the TV and game console though in DC, so maybe he should buy those things. Maybe get back into art as his secret hobby. "I don't like English shows, not my humor."

"JL? Nice choice... Though I'm more of a Marvel geek nowadays," Stiles chuckled, already searching for what Derek wanted to watch – totally oblivious of that long, perhaps longing look his bare skin caused. "DC really butchered their movies lately. Except for Wonder Woman. That turned out great. Okay, Aquaman was rad too with that dreamy piece of a hunk that is Jason Momoa," he sighed with a slight flush on his high cheekbones. It's been a while since he had dropped such hints to Derek about his... liking of guys too.

"But to me it seems that DC is either trying too hard or not hard enough with their movies. Of course the comics are different, but most people will go watch the movies. And what they did to poor Suicide Squad?! It was an okay movie, but all the months-long hype around it only made viewer's expectation sky high. And poor Jared Leto! Man, I was so looking forward seeing him as the Joker and they cut most of his scenes? What a terrible waste..." he babbled on while he was searching through the shows. Once he found what they were looking for, he started it.

"BTW, I can teach you how to become more confident with guns, if you want. I'm afraid you cannot do the same for me regarding the wolf thing unless you bite me," he joked, not feeling the need to add that he didn't want that, because Derek knew that. He knew his view on that, which hasn't changed after all these years either. Nuh-huh, he was 100% human (okay, spiced with a little bit of magic, maybe). He planned on staying like that. Thank you very much.

It wasn't a surprise Stiles being bisexual, he hadn't been exactly subtle with it over the years. After his long crush on Lydia, there had been this awkward kind of flirting with Danny, not to mention his drooling over certain male celebrities the few times they had watched something together. Derek on the other hand never had dropped many hints about what he had liked and Stiles had only known about the females in his life. Truthfully, he didn't focus on gender all that much, not in the past. These days being with women was too complicated to enjoy, the discomfort not worth it. None of that is mentioned of course, he only glanced to the human as he babbled away.

His attention was on the warmth of the squirming body next to him, feeling the movements through the pillows they were seated on. There was a considerable gap of space between them, on purpose, so he'd keep his hands to himself.

"Leto's joker was obviously based on Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns as well as the Killing Joke. People weren't prepared for it because most of them didn't read comics, so his scenes were cut. Herd behavior." Yeah, he wasn't a fan of herd behavior, it's why he refused to even delve into the world of memes like so many did. Maybe that made him old fashioned but he didn't care, wolves were part of a pack, not a herd.

"Yuck, herd behavior! I hate it how it keeps ruining good or promising things. I think Leto was a promising Joker and I was looking forward to seeing him getting the chance to show it off more to the audience. I think it was an intriguing portrayal, even if a brief one," Stiles said while wiggling a bit and kicking his sneakers off onto the carpet to be more comfortable. "But I'm looking forward seeing him in Morbius. He always looked like a vampire to me with his big blue eyes. Kinda scary and maniac, if you ask me," he smirked, nestling deeper into the couch with some content little sounds.

Okay, Derek obviously still had some catching up to do with Stiles' favorite actors because this vampire movie was news to him, not that he particularly cared what Leto did. He nodded along though, used to the ranting, knowing when to give a sign of him listening even though it wasn't needed. The younger man always knew exactly when Derek had stopped listening, which had been, admittedly, more often than he'd like. Not because he wasn't interested in what he had to say but because there were distractions happening. Like a mouth attacking a straw or food being shoved into said mouth while talking. Or the big movements of slender hands, the offering of neck, all kinds of things which had always drawn attention away from the words tumbling out like a maelstrom of information.

The intro of the movie started playing, Derek only glancing at Stiles briefly because it was a serious offer with the gun. "I still don't like guns. It feels wrong to have one in my hand." That and he was quicker with his claws than he was with a gun, maybe it would be efficient if he would start throwing the guns. "I used it to protect myself." Then again, it would be good for Stiles to be better at something, to see the complete train wreck Derek was with it and maybe feel less inclined to mess with magic. "But we can try."

Stiles only took off his eyes from the screen when Derek accepted his offer. First he blinked a bit in disbelief, thinking that he would flat out refuse it since Stiles knew guns were not Derek's thing. But now he managed to surprise him.

"Really? That's cool. I promise I'll teach you well. It'll be worth it, trust me," he wiggled his brows suggestively, not being able to stop himself. "You don't have to like guns to be able to use them properly and with confidence." Here he leaned somewhat closer to Derek. "Psst! Don't tell anyone, but I don't particularly like my guns either," he whispered as he revealed his ‘big secret’. As a detective and once a kid who grew up with a sheriff it was indeed kinda funny.

Derek also got a big smirk at the end of the revelation before Stiles turned his head back towards the screen. "We can go try shooting later this week," he added lightly, already thinking about how he would ask his dad to lend a few of his guns for the practicing, and also on where he could take Derek in the forest. Making him move out of the house and town and back into nature might also do good to the other man. Frankly, sometimes when Stiles glimpsed at him when Derek was intensely brooding over something, all he could see were tense lines, pressed together lips and... well, yeah, intense brooding. Except when he was with Beth, of course.

Maybe to help him relax, all Stiles had to do was take him out into the forest with him. The two of them. Alone. In the forest... In Stiles' too vivid imagination that could be a setting for a) a cheesy porn or b) a creepy horror movie. Or the combination of the two. Damn, someone should shoot him right now...

The distractions listed above were the reason why it took Derek a moment to realize they had moved on from movies to guns. "I don't like guns because I've been shot way too often. But I'll admit I'll take some pleasure in picking a gun up to surprise a hunter if it comes down to it." Because there was nothing worse for a hunter or a cop than to be shot with their own weapon. To Derek, it sounded like poetic justice. He could almost imagine the surprised look on any hunter's face when a werewolf used their gun on them, nobody was expecting that to happen.

"Makes sense that you don't like guns because of that," Stiles chuckled softly. Yes, he had countless memories of Derek being wounded by bullets – normal or special ones alike. Some were especially horrible memories, but he tried not to delve into those. "Ahhh, the face those hunters might get would be priceless, indeed! A werewolf who knows how to use their guns against them. A spectacular sight," Stiles sighed with a wide smirk, imagining a slightly sweaty and maybe bloody Derek Rambo style shooting rounds. Well... that was a hot picture, indeed, but Derek already smelled his excitement, so fuck it! He allowed himself a few more moments to admire that mental picture.

There had been many times Stiles had been witness to Derek getting shot but he had missed out on about eighty percent of the rest. Normal bullets were painful, but took only about ten minutes to heal so he never had asked for help with those. Nor the ones he could handle himself if he had found a bullet with the same wolfsbane strand. Plus all the years Stiles had been away, he had missed out on some spectacular shootings too.

The wolf grunted as an answer to the rest, seeing right through Stiles. He was having that contemplating look on his face, the same one Noah got when he had figured out another way to get the Hale out of the house. It figured his son already connected the dots and realized Derek was being an antisocial hermit, again. A particular familiar spicy scent reached his nose, making him roll his eyes.

"God, Stiles. Don't say you don't like guns when the idea of going out to shoot gets you this excited." There had been some Freudian explanations to men and their guns, most of those were spot on, clearly.

"Hey, I don't get excited about the guns. I got excited from the prospect of dragging you out into the woods with me. You know, some fresh air, a good walk and then shooting cans in the middle of nowhere as practice. It sounds like a nice Saturday or Sunday afternoon, don't you think?" he said fast, putting a hand on his chest as if offended by Derek's comment. Which he wasn't.

Stiles' scent didn't change, he usually needed a while before the excitement was over. "You're easily excited," Derek deadpanned, because he knew it was a lie. Some of it. The part of them in the woods was true, and he figured Stiles was hoping for some adventures while they were out there. It was possible with the way Derek attracted danger and trouble. It was never boring because something always happened. He himself hated that, he hated how incompetent it made him feel even though he not always asked for it. It was possible to get in trouble in the grocery store when all he had wanted to do was to get the things from his list and leave. It was a good idea though, for the weekend, Lydia would have Beth then so they wouldn't have to worry about times and finding a babysitter.

Stiles bit down on a loud snort from that deadpan. Oh, he could've blurted out so many things in return, but in a way... it was true. Around Derek, yes. It was waaaay too easy for Stiles to get excited around this man and his brooding charm. For a change, he instead just hummed and rolled his eyes at the screen. He's been home for barely one day and it was already getting... hard to stay focused, to hold back all the teasing and suggestive comments, the fantasizing... the outright flirting... Or perhaps maybe he shouldn't hold the flirting back? After all... Derek now seemed to get a bit affected by those and he sometimes retorted with similar comments... In the past he usually just glared at him with a frown or didn't even pause in his brooding sessions.

But... something has changed. Not just the both of them. Something has changed between them too... Stiles couldn't put a finger on it, but it was there between them nonetheless.

Derek focused his attention back on the TV, spotting Superman. He hated that face, the actor. Not because he was a bad actor, he was actually a really good one but- "Erica was obsessed with Henry."

Stiles sensed the shift in Derek's mood even before he said his last sentence about Erica. It made Stiles' smile turn into a small sad-ish one while looking at the screen too. "Yes, I remember. She had raved to me about him in The Tudors show too. It was something we bonded over with," he said softly, remembering the fierce blond wolf who used to be part of Derek's by now non-existent pack. "I miss her and the others too, you know..."

They both watched the muscled heroes for a moment, the mood depressing in a way because suddenly they were aware of the fact the other couch was empty. There was no Scott lounging in the chair with Allison on his lap and no Isaac on the floor munching on popcorn. They were the second pack he had lost and it hadn't gotten any easier.

"I know. You were friends with them. Erica often talked about you and Boyd tolerated you, which meant like." Boyd hadn't been so keen on making friends with the rest, sticking close to Derek and Erica. Boyd had been his second, his right hand after the loss of Erica. "Isaac is doing okay, he made a home for himself in Paris." They knew Jackson was in London, they had seen him with Ethan that last time they had all been together. "He Skypes sometimes."

Movie momentarily forgotten, the younger man turned his head to look at Derek. He studied the familiar face for a long moment. Saw the mourning, the pain, the tension etched deeply into the sharp lines of Derek's otherwise handsome face. "I'm happy to hear that Isaac is well. He deserves it very much," Stiles said then paused for a moment. "And... how are you doing without a pack nowadays?" he asked. Stiles knew that Derek had messed up before as an alpha. He had made choices the younger Stilinski didn't agree with, but losing two packs would be very hard on anyone.

Stiles could only imagine how it must feel to the other man. Especially since he was no wolf, so other than theoretically, he couldn't know just how deep the pack bonds could really go. Derek had a mini pack, though. In Beth and maybe in some way the Sheriff and Stiles too, but that wasn't the same. Also, from the way he asked this, Derek would know that he was really interested in his answer. Perhaps going deeper into this topic if Derek was ready to do that. Stiles knew he would feel and see his compassion.

It would be easy to just shrug, avoid answering questions, give a grunt and leave it at that, Stiles would let him. He'd try again no doubt, another time, he was pushy but not that pushy unless it was information needed to solve an urgent problem. Truth was, it cost energy to keep people far away, to block them and it hadn't given him the wanted result, people got hurt nevertheless.

"I was part of a pack in DC, with my ex. I had been omega for too long and needed the pack bonds." He remembered the excitement of running with other werewolves on the full moon, the way they had celebrated New Years with stupid childish drinking games and Derek had never been so drunk before as that night, high on wolfsbane-infused alcohol. To feel his age for once instead. To have a group of friends to depend on.

But he also remembered the weeks he had been alone in the hospital room with his prematurely born daughter, keeping her alive with his energy with sometimes Lydia visiting. The bone crushing loneliness he had felt when nobody came to visit, to one day look into a mirror and see he was wasting away because nobody had cared for him. And how the others had pulled away from him when his scent had changed, when they knew he was also part demon. How the alpha had dismissed him over the phone after he returned from Hell, knowing Derek had been going through the worst and all he got from the alpha was basically have a good life and good luck with all that.

"But I do better on my own. As alpha I don't need another alpha to keep me from going feral." He figured the pain was visible to Stiles, that the human would pick up on a whole story being untold in those few words.

"I want to build my own pack, offer a home to the unwanted and abandoned. Omegas like Theo who have been let down by others too often, used and abused. Everybody deserves a home. It's why I picked Isaac, Erica and Boyd back then, not only because their youth made the bite easier to take. But because I had wanted to offer them more than the misery they knew," Derek shrugged with a rueful chuckle. "I did the best I could then, but it wasn't the right way. I want to fix up the loft building, make apartments and public spaces for the whole pack. I don't want to bite to make a pack, I want the unwanted."

He knew he wanted to undo what he had experienced, losing a pack three times was damaging. To be let down by those he had surrounded himself with all the time, to let them use him to feel useful... He didn't want others to go through that.

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