Stiles was feeling especially good when he woke up. The feeling had lasted through breakfast and into mid-morning. Today was the day he was going into the forest with Derek.
After brushing his teeth, Stiles looked in the bathroom mirror above the sink and found the bruise lines on his face and neck were almost gone. From a distance they wouldn't be visible at all. The dark circles under his eyes were not as bad as they'd been either. Stiles grinned to himself. His face was almost back to normal.
He hadn't checked if the sunbathing he'd been doing had paid off everywhere else so he stripped down and eyed his skin, letting out a happy sigh. A lot of the bruising had completely gone. He'd also put on weight. Not as much as he needed, but his bones weren't protruding and he couldn't count his ribs anymore. He was still weak though. He'd been doing his physio but not as much as he should have, so he still needed his cane. The walk today was a good idea for more than one reason.
The walk. He could feel nerves building up about it. Happy little fizzes of pent-up excitement that made his stomach churn and his hands tingle. Pulling on clean pants and a shirt and carrying his hoodie, he carefully made his way to the kitchen. It would be just his luck to trip over and injure himself in his haste to make this day finally start.
***
When Derek eventually came over, Stiles opened the door for him and with a barely inside-voice call of, "Hey, Derek! Come on!" pulled him inside. Or rather, he grabbed and tugged and Derek obligingly stepped through the doorway.
Stiles kept a hand on him just because and, after shutting the front door, herded Derek into the kitchen. "We're good to go!"
Derek was chuckling as he stood next to him. "You have a bit more energy today." He moved and his hip brushed up against Stiles.
Stiles hesitated for a split second and then patted Derek's arm. "Yep!" He grabbed two water bottles off the kitchen bench and placed them in a small backpack which he held out to Derek. "Do you mind? I would but that may be asking too much."
Derek returned the smile he sent his way, reached out, and ran his fingers through Stiles' hair. Halfway through the motion his eyes widened and his hand paused.
Stiles used his own hand to press Derek's to the side of his head, then let go. He was smiling when he said, "Come on!"
Derek dropped his hand, his fingers trailing down Stiles' cheek lightly. It tickled and Stiles' smile grew wider. "Lead the way," Derek said in a soft voice. He put the pack on his back. His shirt pulled tight across his front from the straps and Stiles took a sneaky moment to appreciate it.
Today was going to be awesome, he could just feel it.
***
They'd gotten down the edge of the fire break, which was a flat-bottomed ditch as wide as a two way road, with Derek holding his elbow to help steady him. Derek had gone up the other side first, pulling Stiles up by his hand. It was awkward and had him laughing when he found himself on the other side, standing under the trees.
"What?" Derek asked, his lips twitching like Stiles' happiness was catching.
"That could have been so much worse! I'm just happy I made it," Stiles explained. He'd had a moment where he thought he was going to slide down on his face, but Derek had stopped that from happening.
"Isn't there an easier access point?" Derek asked as he waited for Stiles to show him the way. "And wasn't there supposed to be a trail?"
Stiles was having fun crunching every leaf that wasn't flat mush, under his feet. He hadn't stopped smiling since he'd taken the first step into the forest. "Oh, yeah, of course," he said to Derek's query. "It's that way." He pointed to his right. "But it's at the other end of the suburb. This way's faster and the trail's just a little way in, we'll meet up with it soon."
The aspen forest had more undergrowth than the preserve so they took their time, stepping around bushes and over dropped branches and lumpy ground, Stiles making sure he didn't trip with his cane. It meant Derek ended up having his hand on him almost constantly. A definite benefit rather than a hindrance.
They walked in relative silence for a short while until, just as Stiles said, the ground evened out and a well-made forest trail appeared before them, running perpendicular to the way they'd been traveling. What Stiles had always liked about this part of the walk was the way the trees were close to the trail's edge. The community group who'd made it hadn't wanted to cut down any of the trees, so the path meandered in and out. Other places were wider and more public-access friendly. Those were the trails he and Scott had ridden their bikes through when they were younger.
"I know this part of the trail really well," Stiles told Derek as he started out to their left.
There was a small wind in the topmost branches of the aspens which didn't reach below where Stiles and Derek walked. It caused the branches to creak and sway gently, moving the sunlight into dancing patterns which captivated Stiles' attention. He could feel the sun shining down through the thin bare branches, the tall white and gray trunks casting long shadows onto the forest floor. In some places the trees grew so close together, it wasn't possible to walk between them.
"You came here a lot with Scott?" Derek asked.
Stiles turned from watching the light to admiring Derek. He was wearing his faded jeans and a green sweater which, when coupled with his boots and the backpack, gave the impression he spent a lot of time in the forest. Stiles had to smile when he thought that because if anyone was a forest dweller, it was a wolf.
"Stiles?" Derek stood waiting.
"Um, no. Not here. There are trails further to the south-east that we rode."
"But you said you knew this place well?"
They were walking side by side and Derek's fingers were brushing the back of Stiles' hand. He entertained the idea of twining their fingers together but he was immensely comfortable with how things were, so he just kept walking.
"Yeah," he answered Derek's question after a little pause. "I used to come here all the time before Scott was bitten, but then I just stopped coming."
"It's easy to let things fall away. They become less important as time goes on," Derek offered.
"Not anymore. Not for me." Stiles wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that, but it was true. From the moment he'd stepped into the forest something had settled in his bones.
Derek gave him a curious glance, his next question not what Stiles thought it would be. "Did you come here alone?"
"I did." Stiles nodded. "I've never actually brought anyone here with me before. It was always just my place. Dad knows about it of course, but he never came."
They stopped walking and faced each other, standing close on the forest path.
"Your mom?" Derek asked.
"No. I don't know if she walked here herself but it was never with me. The trails were made after she was gone. She would have loved it here. We had picnics at the preserve grounds all the time with Dad because she loved the trees." Stiles' smile turned wistful. "She would have been so curious about this fae stuff."
There was no pity in Derek's eyes as he listened, just a deep understanding. He said nothing, but Stiles didn't need him to. They just stood there together until Stiles turned and continued walking.
***
Stiles was having a great afternoon. They'd been walking for under an hour but time seemed to stretch and become almost unreal. To his delight, he got to see how Derek loved the forest like he did. He hadn't guessed how knowledgeable Derek was about forests, but it made a kind of sense given his family home had been in the preserve. Derek had grown up surrounded by trees. Stiles had lost that giddy almost-drunk feeling of the morning's anticipation. Instead, a deep joy had taken up residence in his chest. It had everything to do with where he was and who he was with.
He was so comfortable with Derek. He'd honestly never had this sort of connection with anyone before. He wasn't sure if it was because he was projecting his deeper desires, but he liked to think it wasn't just that. Somehow, without them being around each other for months, their friendship had changed for the better. They'd managed to get to a completely different place with nothing but memories to guide them. It was an amazing situation.
They'd stopped to drink water every now and again, Derek insisting Stiles sit down and rest his legs. He was feeling an ache in his muscles but he said nothing. They needed to cut off from the trail around the next bend to get back to where they'd started. The short cut wasn't long and Stiles was positive he could hold up until they got home.
Derek was a bit skeptical when Stiles said, "Through here," and took a step off the trail.
"But the path keeps going this way." Derek motioned with his head.
"Yeah, but if we take that we'll have an extra hour and a half walk to come back round to where we were. We didn't start on the smaller trail, we're on the bigger one. If we cut through here, we end up back at the firebreak where we came into the forest." Stiles moved into the trees.
"How do you know the way?" Derek was close behind him.
"I know this trail, I told you."
"But this isn't the trail, Stiles. To know this part, you'd have had to walk off into the forest with no idea where you were going."
Stiles turned back to him, trying not to chuckle. "You've met me, right? Now imagine me younger, alone in a forest, and I can either keep following the trail or go somewhere I possibly shouldn't and do it without anyone knowing."
Derek rolled his eyes. "Of course. You didn't get lost?"
"Not so lost that I wasn't able to find myself again. If I did get muddled, I just kept going north-west and would eventually come out somewhere in my suburb."
Derek was shaking his head now. "Did no one ever come across you or wonder where you were?"
"No. When dad was home, I stayed to the trails. And I was very good at hiding if anyone came by."
"Stiles, really."
"What? I had ADHD, was bullied at school, and didn't always have Scott to hang around with even after we were friends." Stiles grinned at Derek. "It's no wonder that I wandered."
Derek groaned, but there was amusement in his expression.
They came upon a tiny clearing, barely fifteen feet across. Derek said, "The deer must have gotten really hungry this winter." He walked over to one of the aspen trees and ran his hand over it. Below his hand the bark had been stripped off.
Stiles had watched deer eating the aspen now and again. They liked the green fleshy parts underneath the tough outer layer. The tree Derek was looking at had big strips of its bark missing. Being a thin tree, it had almost been ring-barked. Stiles stepped up and put his hand on the trunk like Derek had.
"It will probably die," Derek continued. "They don't tend to live when they've lost so much. You can see where the deer have done similar damage to the others." He pointed around them at the bark missing from several other trees.
Stiles nodded, somewhat preoccupied, as he ran his hand over the tree's bark. There was a scratching in his mind like a mental itch that grew stronger as he focussed on it. His fingers touched the exposed inner part of the tree and he gasped, understanding coming to him like a light being turned on. A corner of his mind he'd never used before lit up and stretched, reaching out to the tree under his hand. He had the discombobulated sensation of free falling and suddenly he was much more than just himself. He was also the tree. He could feel the tree trying to push water and nutrients up and down its trunk, the flow getting disrupted where the bark had been lost. It was a loosing battle as time was not this tree's ally. Derek was right. The tree was dying.
Derek's hand on his shoulder had Stiles shuddering as sudden heat ran down his arm. A rush of concern-protect-help hit him like he'd run into a wall. Stiles pulled his hand off the tree and almost fell backwards. He immediately lost the connection he'd had with it. He was caught by Derek as he stumbled.
"Stiles?!"
All Stiles could feel was Derek's concern for him. It was a never-ending swell and he was drowning in it. "Just give me a second! Stop, Derek! Let go!"
Derek dropped his hands and stepped away. Without his support, Stiles fell and ended up on his knees. He winced at the pain and tried to catch his breath.
"What was that? Are you okay?" Derek knelt down in front of him. He reached out and Stiles reflexively jerked away. Derek pulled his hands back and clenched them on his thighs.
It was then that Stiles' leg started to cramp. He sat down awkwardly.
"Stiles?"
"Leg cramp," Stiles explained, flinching as his other leg went the same way.
"What can I do?"
"Nothing at the moment. Just wait." Stiles tipped his head back so the sunlight fell on his face, then he stayed still until the cramps were completely gone. Moving too soon would cause them to start up again.
Derek asked, "Care to explain what the hell just happened?"
"You mean the tree thing, the you thing, or the leg thing?"
Derek's eyebrows rose and he gaped a bit. "All of it! Start with the tree thing."
"Well, that's never actually happened before."
"What happened?"
"I was able to feel the tree's feelings?" Stiles frowned. He rubbed a hand lightly over his leg muscles. "No, that's not right. When I touched the tree, I could sense what was happening with it. You're right, it's dying."
"You can sense the trees," Derek nodded slowly. "Okay. Now explain the thing with me you mentioned."
"Um, you know, I think that explanation has to wait until I'm back home." Stiles expected Derek to argue because it was blatantly obvious he was stalling.
Derek eyed him, his gaze coming to rest on Stiles' hands where he was still massaging his calves. He asked, "You in any pain?"
Stiles shook his head. It wasn't pain he had trouble dealing with but a lack of muscle control. While Derek continued to watch closely, he managed to get up onto his knees. He pushed up on his cane and by some miracle, stood upright. The miracle ended when his legs promptly gave out and he collapsed, only for Derek to catch him before he hit the ground.
Stiles hung in Derek's arms. "I should be paying you for all the times you've done that."
"You couldn't afford me," Derek said dryly.
"Why? Don't you have a payment plan option?" Stiles quipped. He tried to put more weight on his legs but they were done for the day.
Derek shifted his hold on Stiles. "How far is it to the trail?" he asked.
"About ten minutes. Why?"
Without warning Derek scooped him up and Stiles once again found himself in the strong capable embrace. He put his arm around Derek's neck and curled his fingers to lay against skin. His other hand held his cane out of Derek's way.
For the next little while he directed Derek through the trees until they reached the trail. They came out a little further away then he'd anticipated. He blamed that on the warm fuzzy head-space he'd been drifting in. He was getting tired again in a way that was annoyingly familiar. He'd just had an inkling of a thought connected to that when Derek found where they'd entered the forest. They looked down at the ditch. It was dauntingly huge to Stiles right then.
"You won't be able to get down and back up, will you," Derek stated, and Stiles shook his head.
Suddenly, they were sliding down the bank. Stiles gripped Derek tighter and held his breath as Derek landed smoothly and started to run. He hit the other side of the ditch and in one bound they came to a stop on the border of Stiles' backyard.
"Ninja Warrior, eat your heart out!" Stiles cried. He placed a hand over Derek's chest where his heart thumped along at a relatively normal pace. His own heart had yet to come down from his mouth. "Dude, that was freaking awesome! I mean, you've done stuff like that before, but you were carrying me and I've never actually experienced anything like that and you're not even out of breath!"
Derek tried to hide a pleased smile. "Werewolf."
"Still impressed. Werewolf you is impressive. You're impressive all round, all over."
Derek chuckled and walked with Stiles up to the back of the house.
Stiles' foray into adrenalin-overload fell off him as quickly as it had hit. He slid into a heavy thick lethargy. "Derek? I'm going to fall asleep on you. Don't worry, I've worked out why it happens."
"Stiles, what do I tell your dad?"
"Don't worry, I'm fine."
***
When Stiles woke up he was in the living room, covered in a mound of blankets, the pillow from his bed under his cheek. The curtains were shut, the only illumination coming from the lamp behind him. His dad was sitting near his feet on the edge of the couch.
"Son," his dad said, and sighed.
Stiles shrunk in on himself when he heard the exhale, it being his least favourite of his dad's non-verbal condemnations. It incorporated all the disappointed relief he felt when Stiles screwed up but was relatively okay afterwards. It never failed in making Stiles dislike himself that little bit more.
"Where's Derek?" he asked, figuring it was a safe thing to say.
His dad's face immediately darkened before he nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen.
"Derek?" Stiles called, sitting up a little.
Derek entered the living room and sat on the empty couch, folding his arms over his chest and looking at the floor.
Stiles eyed him and then his dad, the air so thick between the two of them it was obvious something had happened. Stiles was betting it was about the walk and him falling asleep again after he said he wouldn't. Before his dad could say anything, he began, "I overdid it with the walking. It's not Derek's fault. I kept going when I should have stopped."
"You passed out from it, Stiles," his dad argued.
"No. I didn't. That was actually something else."
"Then you'd better tell me what it was, because what I'm thinking right now isn't good."
Stiles frowned, not liking the angry red patches on his dad's cheeks or how remote Derek seemed to this whole situation. "The only thing our walk did was make my legs ache. It didn't make me pass out. Nothing made me pass out. I fell asleep because my body is changing and sometimes that catches up with me."
"Your body is —"
"Changing. You know this. And yes, it's connected to being fae, Dad."
His dad shook his head like he was trying to dismiss what Stiles said.
Stiles clenched his jaw before saying, "Out in the forest something happened and it tired me out. Derek couldn't have prevented it." He wasn't going to let that go. His dad could blame him all he wanted, but not Derek.
"What did happen?" his dad asked.
Stiles went quiet. It didn't feel right to tell him.
"Explain it to me," his dad ordered.
Stiles cut his eyes over to Derek. "I can talk to trees now," he said, knowing how it sounded.
"Talk to trees," his dad said succinctly.
"Yeah. Didn't even know I could until I touched one and then, well," he shrugged slightly.
"And then what, your body needs to recharge? And you keep on going this way until what?"
"Until it stops."
"And you're fully this thing," his dad waved a hand towards him.
"Fae." Stiles tried not to be hurt from being called 'this thing'.
"God." His dad rubbed a palm over his eyes. "You're not going to sprout wings, are you?"
"No. I get that your angry, but it's misplaced. I didn't do anything wrong. Neither did Derek."
"Son —"
"That's how it is," Stiles said adamantly.
Derek stood up. He raised his eyes to Stiles but wouldn't hold his gaze. Something inside of Stiles hurt.
"I should go."
"What? No."
"Derek," sighed Stiles' dad. "I was wrong. I don't like admitting it, but when I am, I do. I apologize."
"Stiles, I'll talk to you later," Derek said and walked out of the room.
The bad feeling swirled and rose up in Stiles' throat. "Derek!" he called out to him.
"Not right now, Stiles." His dad shook his head at him.
They listened to Derek leave the house. When his car drove off, Stiles glared at his dad. "What did you say to him?"
His dad had a rueful expression but stubbornly said, "I'm within my rights to protect my child."
"What did you do?"
"I told Derek he should have taken better care of you. I told him if he couldn't, he should think through his actions and back off."
"Back off?" There was a distinct possibility Stiles was going to be sick.
"From you."
Stiles swallowed down bile. "Dad, you don't have the right."
"I'm your father!"
"Yes. And you're scared and all sorts of angry at everything that's happening. But that doesn't mean you get to tell Derek not to be my friend."
His dad had never done it before. Even when his friends probably deserved it, and there were more than a few times with Scott, his dad had never interfered. What gave him the audacity to try it now?
"Derek isn't the same kind of friend everyone else is, Stiles."
Was that what this was, his dad having a problem with his feelings for Derek?
Stiles clenched his hands in his blankets. He was shaking. "How I feel about Derek shouldn't weigh in on this, Dad. But if you want to go there, we'll go there. You want things out in the open? Fine. But you're going to listen to what I say. I'm in love with Derek. I know it's been less than a week since he started hanging out here with me, but I've loved him a lot longer than that."
"I know, son."
"So you should also know if you push him away, if you make him go, if he leaves, you and I won't be okay."
"Stiles?"
Stiles hadn't actually known that ultimatum was going to come out, but he wouldn't take it back. "I'm done now." He turned away from his dad in blatant dismissal.
His dad quietly stood up. He placed his hand on the blankets over Stiles' foot. "Stiles, I'll fix this."
***
Stiles slept on the couch that night. He was exhausted; physically, mentally and emotionally. He woke up numerous times with leg cramps and bad dreams he couldn't recall. With such a disrupted sleep, he was bleary-eyed when his dad checked on him before going to work.
"Stiles?" His dad actually kneeled before him on the floor. "I'm going to work now. Will you be okay?"
"Yeah."
His dad ran his hand over Stiles' hair, searching his face before saying, "If you sleep all day, I won't 'freak out' okay?"
"You sure?" Stiles had to ask.
His dad's mouth pulled down. "I didn't remember, but Lydia explained why it may happen. PTSD withdrawing, I think she called it."
"That's not what yesterday was about." Stiles yawned.
"No, I know." His dad was silent for a while before he said, "Yesterday was the first time you've volunteered information to me about all this."
Stiles guessed then that some of his dad's outburst had been because he was working with a limited amount of knowledge. For a cop that's annoying enough but being a dad as well, he must be frustrated in ways Stiles couldn't fathom. He still didn't care for what his dad had done, but he understood it better. "You know you hurt him," he told his dad. "You need to fix it, like you said. But not for me. For him."
His dad had an unreadable expression on his face. "Well, there's something that hasn't changed."
"What?"
"How strongly you love."
Stiles hid his embarrassment with another yawn.
***
Stiles woke up a couple of times and made sure to eat something, even though he wasn't hungry. He also managed to go to the bathroom. Both were mammoth undertakings and he was worried he wasn't going to make it back to the couch each time as his legs hadn't forgiven him for yesterday. It was ironic that they were giving him so much grief when at the beginning of his recovery they were the least injured parts of him. He'd managed to pull open the curtains in the living room earlier and the sun was streaming in on him as he lay on the couch. He shoved off his blankets and slept like a cat stretched out fully in the sun, hoping it would help him heal.
When he woke up again, it was late afternoon. His first and most coherent thought was about Derek. Stiles should have called him. Just as he was thinking it, he was startled by a pinging noise coming from above his head. He struggled up and peered confusedly over the arm of the couch at the side table. It was his phone. He had no idea how it had gotten there. He picked it up and felt a piece of paper stuck on the bottom. He flipped it over and peeled off a post-it note written in Derek's handwriting.
It read: 'Found this on your bed. Had a pretty good idea you'd misplaced it again.'
Stiles re-read the note a half dozen times before he put it carefully on the side table. He checked his phone and found that it had been Derek who'd texted him just before.
- Your dad called me.
Stiles clenched his phone tight. That could mean a lot of things. It didn't give him any indicators as to how Derek was feeling. He asked:
- Did he apologize correctly this time?
Derek answered back almost immediately.
- He did. He also told me how you strongly suggested he do it.
Stiles was surprised. He hadn't thought his dad would mention that. He didn't mind though.
- He needed to. Did it help?
There was a slight wait for Derek's next reply, then:
- It did. So thanks.
Stiles was slowly going crazy having to text Derek when he really just wanted to hear his voice, so he called him. The phone rang once before ending the call. He tried a few more times with the same result, so he reverted back to text.
- Could you call me? My phone cuts out when I try.
Derek answered quickly:
- Sure.
Stiles waited. It felt like ages before he got another text.
- Can't get through. Your dad invited me to dinner tomorrow. Is that all right?
Stiles snorted. His dad was going all out.
- More than okay by me.
Derek sent:
- I'll see you tomorrow then.
Stiles smiled. Derek was doing okay if his texts were anything to go by. It made Stiles feel lighter. He replied:
- See you.
Just as he sent the text, his phone suddenly shut off. He pressed the power button but nothing happened. The thought of walking to his bedroom for the charger had him groaning so he gave up and dropped the phone over his head onto the table behind him.
***
Stiles was sitting under the shower spray with his head tipped forward, the water running down the back of his neck. When he'd woken up this morning his legs were fine again, able to take his weight with help from his cane. He wasn't worried about his dad and Derek either, so he was relaxed and loose and calm in a way he hadn't been for ages. He took the opportunity to mull over the amazing thing that had happened with the aspen tree. It was exciting and wonderful and scarily intuitive and he wanted to do it again; to delve right into his magic and see how far he could go.
He'd been home less than two weeks and in that time he'd gone from being scared and worried, to worried and anticipating. The urge inside him was a simple thing: he needed to be outside. He could feel the walls of his house around him and he didn't want it. He wanted sun, wind, earth and sky. Instead of fighting it, instead of waiting, Stiles was going to embrace this amazing thing that was happening to him. He was going out to the forest today, he was going to make contact with the trees, with the sunlight. He was going to find the fae. He was going to see what else was in store for him. He was ready.
***
By midday, Stiles was standing at the bottom of the fire-break. He'd slipped down the edge, sending small pebbles and dirt all over the place as he descended. The ditch was higher than his shoulders so he'd have to work at getting up the other side. After examining it, Stiles used the head of his cane like a pick axe and pulled himself up the incline.
When he stood at the top, he didn't even look back. Just swung his cane in self-congratulatory pride for a few seconds, then stepped through into the aspen forest. The moment he entered, a part of him unfurled. Everything was more and full and magic and wild.
Stiles moved as quickly as he could, wanting to be deep in the forest. He came across the trail and didn't take it, instead crossing diagonally to the right and heading further in. With the hand not holding his cane he started touching each tree he passed, immediately sensing them. Flickering images of health and growth. It was just as amazing as the first time and Stiles was loving every minute of it. This was incredible, it was special. He was sinking into the trees, into the connecting electric stream that passed through the trees' roots to each other. Each tree was in touch with the ones living around it. They were talking, talking, talking. Not in a language Stiles could communicate in but he could tell it was occurring, could feel the consciousness of the trees as a whole living breathing community.
Sometimes he lingered on a particular tree and pressed his ear to the bark, hugging the tree as he did so, following the energy strands, learning the tree's history and its present. It was like flipping the pages of a book, the further he went the more he learned, the more connected he became.
Stiles was moving quickly now; flittering between the trees, faster than a human could. He didn't remember dropping his cane. He was running over the ground lightly, stepping with precise footsteps, lost in the beauty of everything around him, mesmerized by the sunlight, waving his hands through it, the energy zipping over his skin, feeling it nipping at his cheeks as it did when he was astral projecting.
One second, Stiles was surrounded by aspen trees, turning around in delighted circles, bathed in sunlight.
The next, he was at the Nemeton and face to face with his fae creator.