Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Step by Step, We'll Get There	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: S through Z > Teen Wolf Views: 4677 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf nor profit of it. Jeff Davis owns it.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
Author's note: I know it's not as long as the previous one, but I'm sweating out of my skin right now thanks to the heat wave currently going on and it's messing with my motivation to write. (I'm really, really not a summer person at all.) I still wanted to give you something, though, so I hope you won't mind too much that it's shorter than the previous one *winces*
Warnings: Hm, nothing in particular that I can think of. If I do have to add something, let me know!
I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 24
He woke up in the middle of that night, staring up at the ceiling in the dark and listening to Derek breathe deeply next to him. He'd ended up spending the night after all, not really wanting to face his dad so soon after getting off for the first time with his boyfriend. Fortunately dad hadn't minded the impromptu sleepover when Stiles had texted him about it.
He could only hope the Sheriff hadn't taken advantage of a Stiles free house to eat fast food.
Sitting up slowly, he stared down at his fingers and carefully breathed out. Then he started to grin and clenched his hands into fists.
He finally had it.
After a month of meditating and wondering just what the hell he was doing, he had it: he knew how his wards would look like.
If he didn't have to be mindful of Derek beside him, he would be whooping in joy right now. Turned out he didn't need meditation to find out how the wards would look like: he just needed some sexy time with Derek, imagine that! Man, if he'd known that all he needed to do was get some good orgasms with Derek in order to get a visualisation of the wards, he'd have jumped the man weeks ago!
He almost vibrated with the need to do a celebratory dance, but he held himself in check, only allowing himself to carefully fist pump in the air a couple of times. All that was left to do now was contact Deaton in the morning and tell him the news. Well, that and actually placing the wards, but the druid had reassured him that part would be easy compared to finding out how the wards would look like in the first place.
For a moment he wondered just what kind of wards his mother had visualised, whether they had come close to his own version, and then he shook his head roughly, dispelling the thoughts. He didn't want to go down that path now; that would only lead to wondering just how much things would have changed if she'd still been alive and he didn't want to deal with that now.
Not when he was celebrating finally visualising those damn wards. This meant that he would no longer need to attend those meditation lessons with Deaton, meaning more time to spend with Derek and his friends. He would have some resemblance of a social life back after a month!
"Hm, how late is it?" Derek stirred, blinking up at him with sleepy eyes.
It really should be illegal for the man to look so adorable, whilst sleep rumpled and clearly not fully awake yet.
"Too early to get up yet," Stiles told him and when he received a deadpan stare in response, he rolled his eyes and craned his neck to check the small clock on the nightstand. "Sixteen past two."
"Why are you awake?" Derek grumbled, tugging at the Omega's arm to convince him to lie down again.
Stiles did so without any fussing. "I know how my wards will look like," he answered satisfied, snuggling into Derek's side.
Derek's arm curled around him; his fingers splayed across the younger man's back. "I'm proud of you," he mumbled, obviously half way to falling asleep again. "Now sshh, go back to sleep. Too early."
"I thought you were a morning person?"
One hazel eye cracked open and peered at him. "Morning, exactly. It's not even three yet, therefore not morning, therefore sleeping time."
"You're adorable," Stiles snickered, poking his nose. The arm around him tightened.
"Go back to sleep, Stiles, or I'll throw you out of the bed very early," Derek threatened.
"I just came up with the perfect way to protect the town and this is the treatment I get," Stiles huffed, bumping his forehead against the wolf's shoulder.
Quick fingers gripped his chin and pulled his head up for a surprise kiss. Curling his arm back around Stiles, Derek muttered, "Like I said, I'm very proud of you." Well, at least he was sincere about that. "If you go to sleep now, I'll blow you as a reward for the wards in the morning."
Brown eyes widened; the small trace of sleepiness which had still lingered within him completely destroyed by the promise. "You promise me that and expect me to go to sleep now?" he squeaked and slapped Derek's arm. "What the hell, Derek?!"
"I'm sure you'll manage," Derek smirked and then uttered a soft sigh. "Go to sleep now. If you're going to put up those wards, you'll need your rest."
Reluctantly Stiles acknowledged he was right. Deaton had warned him that while placing the wards would be easier than visualising them the first time, it would still be a very taxing process. He'd been advised to be well rested before even attempting to put the wards down, lest something went wrong.
"Fine, but I'm holding you on to that promise," he muttered petulantly, wriggling his leg between Derek's.
"You do that," Derek said and he could practically hear his smile. "Now sleep."
Stiles wanted to remark that that wasn't an order he could just obey like that, but pressed up against Derek, his body heat seeping through both their clothes, and being surrounded by his scent was actually having a calming effect on him and his excitement settled, drowsiness returning.
Sleep didn't take long to find him after that.
"I must say I'm impressed," Deaton murmured, pushing some jars to the side on a shelf. "I hadn't expected you to be able to visualise the wards this quickly."
"I wouldn't call taking a month to do so quickly," Stiles remarked, wrinkling his nose.
They were in Deaton's private office; Stiles having called him to tell him the news as soon as he had left Derek's apartment. Derek would have liked to join him, but there could only be one Hale present during the placement of the wards and for some unfathomable reason, that Hale had to be Peter of all people.
The man in question was lounging in a chair in front of the desk, his legs crossed and his hands resting idly on the arms of the chair. His ice blue eyes were dancing with amusement, but it was the odd calculating look which crossed them from time to time that set Stiles a bit on edge.
He knew he could trust the man in a sense – there was no way Talia would have appointed him as the Hale accompanying Stiles if he couldn't be trusted – but there was something about him that made the fox shifter be on his guard whenever the older man was nearby.
Maybe it was because he always seemed to know everything, no matter the subject. Stiles acknowledged that sounded rather hypocritical coming from the guy who had regular Wikipedia binges, but with Peter there was just something inherently discomforting about the amount of knowledge he appeared to have about everything.
"Don't discredit yourself; a month in this particular situation definitely isn't that long," Deaton said, grabbing a jar off the shelf. He screwed the lid open and studied the dark content. "Especially considering you lack experience in meditation. You said you saw the wards in your dreams? Did you meditate right before going to sleep? That might have helped inspire you."
"Or maybe someone inspired you?" Peter smirked; his gaze way too knowing.
"I sort of meditated," Stiles replied and glared at Peter, whose smirk just widened.
"Well, it got you results, which is the most important part." Deaton turned around with the jar held in both hands. The lid was back on it and the black dust inside of it shimmered faintly in the light. "This is the special strain of Wolfsbane you'll be using to place the wards."
Stiles studied the jar dubiously. "And there's going to be enough in that one to surround the whole town?" he asked sceptically.
Beacon Hills wasn't exactly a major city, but it wasn't that small either – especially not with the Preserve taking up a considerably large part of it.
"Don't worry about it," Deaton smiled enigmatically. "You'll have more than enough to surround the entire town. You ready to place the wards?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Stiles said wryly and accepted the jar. It still didn't look like there was nearly enough powder in it to surround the town, but whatever. He guessed Deaton knew what he was talking about.
"Does it matter where I start placing the wards?" he remembered to ask, putting the glass jar in the bag he'd brought with him.
"Start wherever you feel is right," Deaton replied.
Of course. Had he really expected some other answer?
"Well then, let us proceed," Peter said and rose up from the chair, striding over to the door. "I've got a busy schedule today, so let's now dawdle."
"Oh yeah? What kind of busy schedule can you have?" Stiles huffed, but left the office nonetheless. It wasn't like he wanted to drag this out either. He still had an essay to finish.
"Oh you know, this and that. I've got places to be, people to visit," Peter replied; his eyes glinting amused.
Stiles decided that for once, he wasn't curious enough to ask further.
In order to place the wards, he needed to visualise them at the same time he went around creating a border with the Wolfsbane. That didn't sound too difficult, but in reality it wasn't that easy. He needed to constantly focus on the image of his wards otherwise it didn't work. And he knew when it worked, because the ground seemed to glitter for a bit before it returned to normal again. If he lost his concentration even once, there would be no glitter – and he definitely wouldn't get the sensation of things falling into place then.
It was odd to describe, but as he went around, pouring the Wolfsbane and visualising the wards, something in him seemed to click whenever he correctly finished a section of the wards. Like each section came with a chain and when he did it correctly, the chain locked onto him and settled within him.
Concentrating on the image of the wards – he thought of them as some sort of iron plates stacked together on top of each other, keeping everything out that wasn't welcome – he opened his hand and sprinkled the Wolfsbane dust on the forest floor, letting the earth absorb it and turn it into the wards he wanted. For a second the wards didn't seem to want to materialise, but he just focused on the image of them even harder. That seemed to do the trick, because when he opened his eyes, he spotted the faint shimmer of the wards settling into place.
Once that was done, he took a step back and breathed out, wiping his forehead. Despite the fact that it was December and cold as balls, he was starting to sweat; as if he was jogging instead of just walking around and placing wards. Taking a look around, he estimated he had around half of the Preserve left to do and then he would finally be finished. How long had he been working at the wards already?
"What time is it?" he asked; having left his phone behind in his jeep. He'd figured that had been the best in case someone tried to contact him and disturbed his concentration through that.
"A quarter to twelve," Peter answered casually from somewhere behind him.
Stiles blinked. Oh wow, no wonder he was getting hungry. He hadn't realised they had been at this for several hours already.
Looking behind him, he could spot Peter standing half behind a tree; his left hand in his pocket and a bored look on his face. The older man had been following him around at a short distance as silent as a ghost and once more Stiles wondered why exactly he was accompanying him when it seemed he wasn't doing anything in particular.
He knew he should continue placing the wards, especially when he only had half of the Preserve left, but curiosity got the better of him in the end and he turned fully around, facing the wolf head on.
"I've been wondering about this ever since I got told I had to place the wards," he started and Peter cocked his head to the left. "Why is it necessary that a Hale – that you – accompany me for this? In fact, why can it apparently be only you when I'm sure there are other Hales who could do whatever you're doing now as well?"
"Are you telling me you haven't tried to research the reasoning behind this yet?" Peter inquired amused.
"A bit hard to do research when you have to do university work, try to come up with wards, and visit a magical tree," Stiles snipped and placed the jar for the time being on the ground between his feet. Crossing his arms, he raised an eyebrow. "So? Care to enlighten me, oh knowledgeable one?"
Peter looked absolutely delighted at being called that – it figured – and he came a couple of steps closer. Still he remarked, "Shouldn't you finish placing the wards?"
"I'll do the last part once you give me some answers; I'm nearly done anyways," Stiles answered impatiently.
"Suit yourself," Peter chuckled before sobering up. "I'm going to assume that the educational system hasn't declined that much that you weren't taught how society initially started?"
Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. "You mean how society was divided into packs at first?"
"Yes. Before society came to be as we know it now, most people were divided into packs. There were people living on their own as well of course, depending on their nature, but most people had something resembling a pack at the very least," Peter started and a distant look entered his eyes as if he was remembering something from a long time ago. "Naturally just like our society has rules in place now, each pack had their own set of rules back in the day."
That made sense. When people lived in large groups together, there had to be some system in place that would keep everyone in line. Otherwise things might get ugly at some point.
"So did my family, the Hales. When my ancestors settled here in Beacon Hills, they often had to deal with packs who were … less than gracious when passing through or attempting to live here." The corners of Peter's mouth curled up in a thin smile. "In order to deal with the ones causing a ruckus, a Left Hand was appointed."
"I take it the Left Hand didn't necessarily only do verbal confrontations." Not with the way Peter's eyes were gleaming almost viciously.
"I've always liked how quick you are on the uptake, Stiles," he said almost fondly. "No, it was not always verbal altercations which were settled by the Left Hand. Sometimes they had to deal with people in other ways."
Stiles couldn't supress a tiny shudder. "What does the Left Hand have to do with following someone placing the wards, though?"
He wasn't an idiot; Peter's small history lesson about the Left Hand could only mean he was the current one in the family. There were no enemies to deal with now, though, so he had trouble figuring out why Peter being the Left Hand meant he had to shadow him while he was placing the wards.
"Just as you are tied to the Nemeton by being an Elemental Creature, so are the Hales tied to it," Peter replied and shrugged. "The Left Hand needs to know where exactly the wards are in case trouble arises."
Huh, that explained why Peter had been there when that woman had shown up a month ago. Stiles had been wondering about that. Talia had made sense as the mayor of the town, Deaton because of the Nemeton and his dad because of his status as Sheriff, but Peter's presence had been a mystery up until now. Back then he'd just figured that Peter had been too curious to stay behind and Talia hadn't wanted to deal with trying to get him to stay away.
Peter being the Left Hand explained everything, though.
"How do you decide who becomes the Left Hand?" he questioned curiously. He wondered whether he'd be able to find more information about Left Hands or whether that was something exclusively reserved for the Hale family only.
Peter gave him a shark like grin. "That's a story for another day." He winked and waved his hand. "Now off you go, finish the rest of the wards. We don't want someone unwelcome to bother the Nemeton again."
Judging by the look on his face, though, Peter didn't look like he would mind someone unwelcome trying to get into the town.
Stiles pulled a face, but picked up the jar and walked a bit further. Just a bit more to go and then he would reward himself with some delicious curly fries. He'd earnt them after all this work.
That evening Derek surprised him by showing up with pizza at his house.
"Figured you might want something greasy after the work you did today," Derek smiled, presenting the two boxes and chucking off his leather jacket.
After he'd finished placing the wards, he'd scarfed down a basket of curly fries and a hamburger before returning home to work on his essay, but he'd been feeling exhausted the whole afternoon. He'd actually been trying to debate whether he really needed to prepare dinner for himself or whether he could skip it for one evening, so Derek showing up with delicious, greasy pizza was like heaven sent.
"I worship you and the ground you walk on," he told the older man solemnly, grabbing the two boxes and retreating to the living room.
"I thought you worshipped Lydia Martin?" Derek asked innocently, his eyes dancing with laughter.
"Well, she's not here delivering me pizza, is she?" Stiles pointed out and dropped down on the couch, letting out a satisfied sigh when he opened the first box and the scent of meat and mushrooms curled into his nostrils. He patted the space next to him. "Now come here and eat with me, so that I don't feel too guilty about inhaling greasy food twice in one day. I'll continue worshipping you after this." He waggled his eyebrows, already ripping off one piece of the pizza.
Derek snorted, but sank down next to him anyway; their thighs pressed against each other.
Stiles didn't finish his essay that night. He did, however, have a very productive evening with Derek.
A very, very productive one.
"So, how is Kira doing?" Stiles asked absently, shooting one of their enemies right in his head.
Even without looking directly at him, Stiles knew Scott was beaming like mad. At least he didn't let himself get distracted from the game they were playing, so that was progress.
"She's doing great!" Scott replied enthusiastically; his character ducking down before he could be hit. "Her exams will end a week before Christmas, so in a few weeks she'll be back home again."
"That's great, buddy," Stiles grinned, knowing how much Scott had missed his girlfriend.
True, they'd Skyped nearly every day and texted daily, but there was still that physical distance between them that couldn't easily be bridged with how far away she'd gone to attend college.
A knock on his bedroom door had both of them looking up from the game. Dad was standing in the doorway and his uncharacteristically solemn face had Stiles straightening up and frowning.
"Dad, is everything okay?" Maybe he was called in for something serious?
"Stiles, I just got off the phone with the sheriff of Oakdale," Dad said slowly, resting his hand against the doorframe.
"Okay … What was the call about?" Next to him, Stiles felt Scott sit up straighter as well; his fingers slack on his console.
Oakdale …Why would they be contacting his dad? They weren't exactly close to Beacon Hills.
"They were called in this morning after reports of a car burning out," Dad said and pursed his lips for a moment. When he continued, his voice gained a hint of steel. "They still need to run the ballistics tests, but the car was apparently registered on the name of Theo Raeken."
Stiles' heart started beating faster and he could only stare at dad, only vaguely aware of Scott gripping his wrist hard.
"And they managed to retrieve one finger from it."
AN2: How many of you did see this coming? :D The story is not over yet, though ...
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!
Cuddles
Melissa
- 23
- 24
- 25
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Step by Step, We'll Get There