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Mischief

Summary:

Stiles and Derek have known who they belonged to for most of their life. Until it's taken away. But what was taken can be restored, if only someone knows to remind you what's missing.

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            Derek first smelled it at the grocery store with his mother while Cora and Laura were arguing. It was the best thing he had ever smelt in his ten years. It smelled like apples and cinnamon and lightning. Every whiff he got of it made he sure that it was important. It was like the scent of Pack, but stronger. Different. He had to know what it was. While his Mom was busy trying to separate his sisters, Derek followed the smell. He wandered down the aisles until he found a young boy around Cora’s age clinging to an unfamiliar woman. They both had soft brown hair and pale skin. What he could see of the boy’s skin was covered in constellations of moles. Before Derek could do or say anything, the boy launched himself at Derek, wrapping him in a tight hug. Derek instinctively buried his nose in the boy’s neck, breathing in deep. This boy was the source of that strange smell and the intensity of it as they embraced each other made Derek’s wolf howl in delight. He could feel it preening under his skin as the boy beamed up at him with wide honey-colored eyes. Everywhere the boy’s hands trailed tingled and left Derek wanting to pull him close and never let him go. But that ended when the woman let out a yelping sound and pulled the boy away from Derek. The young ‘wolf was too shocked to do anything but stare at her.

            “Mieczyslaw!” The woman scolded, looking back at the boy. She turned back to Derek. “I’m so sorry about him. He’s got no sense of boundaries.”

            “I don’t mind,” Derek shrugged. His eyes fixed on the boy, Mieczyslaw. It had to be the strangest name he’d ever heard, but that didn’t matter. Everything in him was screaming to get closer.

            “Be that as he may, he should know better,” she sighed. A few aisles away, Derek’s mom was calling him back, but he didn’t want to leave them. “Do you need some help finding your mom, honey?” The woman tilted her head, smiling sweetly. Derek shook his head. Mieczyslaw tugged against the grip the woman had on his arm.

            “Mom!” Mieczyslaw whined. “Let me go! He’s feels right!” The woman looked back at her son with a frown. Mieczyslaw clearly saw that as a reason to keep talking, heedless of who else might hear. “To my magic. It’s all buzzy and right, like it is with you and Dad but not. Pleeeeaaasssse?” Mieczyslaw tugged harder throwing his whole body against the grip trying to get to Derek. The woman was frozen in shock and looked over at Derek. Derek started moving forward, but suddenly there was a firm hand on his shoulder pulling him back.

            “Derek, you shouldn’t wander off like that,” his mother scolded. She looked over and Mieczyslaw and his mother with a frown. “Sorry if he was bothering you.” Before either could say anything, she was dragging Derek down the aisle and out of the store. Cora and Laura were nowhere to be seen. Derek tried to fight to get back to the wonderful smell that was Mieczyslaw, but his mother’s grip was iron.

            “Mom, wait,” he started. “Wait! Couldn’t you smell him?”

            “Stop,” she growled, glaring back at him with red eyes. “You will not seek out that boy ever again. Do you understand?”

            The Alpha in her voice made Derek shuddered, but he didn’t let it go. “But he smells like pack.”

            “Never again, Derek. Your sisters will finish the shopping. We are going home, and you are going to forget about them.” She started moving again, forcing Derek into the car. Derek didn’t cry. He didn’t fight. He couldn’t fight his alpha’s orders. He had lost Mieczyslaw before he had even gotten the chance to introduce himself. It felt like something was being torn out of him and he couldn’t understand why.

            Three days later he was out in the Preserve, feeling even worse than he had when his mother had first dragged him away. He knew that Mieczyslaw was important to him, even if he didn’t know how. He could feel how restless his wolf was now. He wanted to hunt the other boy down. He knew that he could do it too. It seemed like every time he left the house for the last three days he had caught that apples and cinnamon and lightning scent. It was taunting him. Begging him to follow it even as the Alpha order burned against him, keeping him from following it to its source. Even now, wandering over rocks by the creek in the Preserve he could smell it. He growled at himself, jumping across the bank and letting himself fall flat on the large flat rock there. He didn’t understand it. He’d told Laura about it and all she said was to trust mom. But she didn’t get it. Only Uncle Peter seemed to get it, but he wouldn’t talk about it. The need to find Mieczyslaw was starting to drive him insane. Why would they want him to stay away if it meant feeling like this forever? The longer he thought about it, the stronger the scent got. He covered his face, curling in on himself, letting out a constant growl as his control frayed. A particularly strong gust of wind nearly shoved the scent down his throat, and he felt his teeth shift. All his focus was on getting control again, and, when asked later, that was why he didn’t realize there were two other people on the bank with him until one of them tackled him. Before Derek even understood what was happening, he was burying his nose into the boy’s neck gulping in the scent like he had been drowning. For the first time in days, he could feel himself relaxing. “Where’d you go?” the boy mumbled, clearly just as affected by their time apart as Derek had been. “Mom said you should have been looking for me, but then you didn’t come, and it just kept getting worse.” Derek held him tighter as he smelled salty tears on the other boy.

            “I’m sorry,” Derek managed, feeling his own tears threatening to fall. They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a while, just soaking in the touch and smell of the other boy. They didn’t break apart until Derek noticed the woman, Mieczyslaw’s mother, watching them. Then Derek tensed and pulled back, but he kept a hand on the younger boy as he did.

            “Don’t mind me,” the woman chuckled. “Mieczyslaw needed to see you as much as you needed to see him.” Derek tightened his grip and Mieczyslaw responded by plastering himself into Derek’s side. “It’s alright sweetheart. I’m not going to take him away from you.”

            “Mom says we need to see each other ‘cause we belong together. That’s what it meant when my magic got all crazy without you and why I felt all buzzy at the store and why it feels so nice to hug you.” The boy talked quickly. But, even as skilled as Derek was following the logic of a six-year-old (thank you Cora), nothing he said made sense.

            “Mieczyslaw,” the woman scolded. Her honey-colored eyes burned into her son. “Let me explain it.”  Mieczyslaw shied away from his mother, hiding in Derek’s side. They had clearly had this discussion already. The woman turned her burning eyes to Derek. “Take a seat, sweetheart, and tell me your name.” She smiled softly and gestured to where Derek had been laying before Mieczyslaw had tackled him. He allowed the young boy to haul him to the ground.

            “Derek,” he said quietly. He leaned against Mieczyslaw, taking comfort in the enticing smell.

            “It’s nice to meet you Derek. You can call me Claudia, and you already know Mieczyslaw,” she chuckled. Derek nodded. “Derek, what do you know about magic?”

            “Mom doesn’t like it. She thinks…” Derek trailed off, choking on his words. He eyed Claudia carefully as he felt the burn of his Alpha’s order under his skin.

            “It’s all right, Derek. You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone else.” Claudia kept her voice quiet and gentle. Derek knew, somehow, that he could trust her. Just like he knew he needed to stay with Mieczyslaw as long as he could. He tried to open his mouth, but the sounds wouldn’t come out. He closed it again and shook his head before hiding his face against Mieczyslaw’s neck. He heard footsteps approaching and his heart sank, a small whimper escaping him. He heard Claudia bolt to her feet.

            The other person stopped moving. “I mean you no harm,” Peter said quickly. Derek glanced up at his uncle. Peter stood a few yards back with his hands in the air ignoring the two boys and staring right at Claudia. “I’m Derek’s Uncle Peter. After Derek told me what happened at the supermarket, I’ve been trying to find you and your son. Against our Alpha’s wishes, I might add.” Peter flashed his blue eyes. Derek tightened his grip on Mieczyslaw. The boy looked up at him in awe.

            “Can you do that too?” he asked. Derek nodded. “Can I see?” Derek hesitated for a moment before letting his eyes flash gold. Mieczyslaw let out an excited gasp. Then his honey eyes flashed a white-ish purple, almost in response. “Yours are cooler than mine!” Claudia chuckled quietly. Derek shook his head.

            “Every ‘wolf has yellow eyes. Purple is cooler,” Derek said.

            “Nu-uh. Just ‘cause it’s common doesn’t mean it’s not cool. Like your name. Derek is a cool name and I know lots of Dereks. Nobody can even say my name.” The boy pouted a bit. Then he moved suddenly to look up at Derek again. “Can you say my name?”

            Derek frowned. “Mich..Mezhi….Miechsl…” He shook his head.

            “See? Common names are better and common eyes can be cool.” Mieczyslaw crossed his arms. Derek scrunched his eyebrows together.

            “Fine,” he huffed. “But your name is cool. I just can’t say it.” He thought for a moment. “What if I called you Mischief instead? It sounds like your name.” Mieczyslaw started glowing. Literally. His speckling of moles were glowing the same white-ish purple his eyes had flashed. His scent spiked with lightning. He nodded so hard only Derek’s quick reflexes kept him from sliding off the rock. “So now your Mischief,” Derek declared, more than a little proud. “And Mischief isn’t a common name either.” Mischief seemed to think about that for a moment then shrugged.

            “I don’t care what I’m called, s’long as you’re the one calling me,” he said. Then he was hugging Derek again. Derek rolled his eyes but didn’t push him away.

            “You understand what this means for them?” Claudia asked, watching the two boys. Peter nodded. “Do you understand why your Alpha would want to keep Derek from his mate?” The word sent a thrill through Derek and he finally understood why the little mole covered boy felt so right in his arms.

            “I’m afraid I don’t, but my sister rarely shares things of that nature with me,” Peter sighed. “I am, however, glad that you had the skill to find him. I can’t imagine how awful the separation was for my Nephew knowing that he could have tracked you darling son at any point if it weren’t for his mother’s order. He may be young, but he is an excellent tracker. Probably better than any of his sisters. I suppose he’s lucky his mate has magic.” Peter’s eyes gleamed as he scanned Mischief. The boy in question stuck out his tongue spitting little sparks as he did. Peter chuckled.

            “He’s a Spark, like me,” Claudia explained. “Now that they’ve met, keeping them apart will hurt both of them. Mieczyslaw’s magic is uncontrollable without Derek, and I’m sure that Derek’s been have some issues controlling his wolf too.” Derek hid from her gaze in Mischief’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Derek. Sweetheart, I need you to look at me.”

            “Mom will help, Derek,” Mischief said, using his long fingers to forced Derek to look up. The six-year-old had the most intense look on his young face. “I promise.” Derek felt himself smile a bit. Then he turned to look at Claudia.

            “Derek, what were the exact words that your Alpha used to keep you from looking for Mieczyslaw?” Claudia asked.

            “She told me not to seek out the boy from the store. Ever,” Derek mumbled. He wanted to pulled Mischief closer but managed to keep himself in check. Peter nodded.

            “I believe Talia thought that would be enough to keep these two apart. After all, you don’t smell like magic and your Mischief is far too young to have had any training,” Peter mused.

            “Well, I guess Mischief will just have to come to you,” Claudia decided. “Can I trust you to keep this from your Alpha, Peter?”

            “Of course. I would never get in the way of mates. Talia will see sense eventually, but she will not hear about this from me. If you’d like, I would even be willing to help you and Mischief in ‘finding’ Derek.” Peter grinned.

            “You’re her left hand. Are you sure?”

            Peter seemed startled by his title, grin turning into a frown, though Derek wasn’t sure why. “As her left hand, I have a certain amount of discretion appointed me,” he hissed. “I also have an obligation to my Pack over my Alpha. As I’m sure you know, my job is to do whatever necessary to protect my Pack.” Claudia nodded, seemingly satisfied.

            “Then you let me know when Derek will be alone, and I’ll make sure that Mieczyslaw will be there too.” Her grin was wicked-looking, and Peter mirrored it. For the next few years, that’s what they did. At least once a week, Peter would send Derek somewhere and Claudia would be waiting with Mischief. Whenever they were together, the rest of the world didn’t matter. As Mischief got older, he started learning how to control his Spark, often doing tricks when only Derek could see. Derek would show off his shift for Mischief, honing his senses even further than Laura could. Mischief loved to watch Derek jump and run in the Preserve. Derek favorite times though, were when Claudia left them alone and they could just talk. Mischief was always telling him strange things and he talked more than enough for the both of them, which Derek loved since Derek himself didn’t really like talking. Mischief was the only one who seemed to understand that he liked it that way.

            Their world came tumbling down when Derek turned fourteen. Peter had sent him into the Preserve the day before his birthday, claiming that he needed to get his head on straight before the celebration that evening. Derek knew that it was really so that Mischief could celebrate with him. Normally, Peter wouldn’t have risked it with so much of the pack visiting, but Claudia had passed away just a month ago and he knew that Mischief needed Derek as much as possible. So, Derek was traveling the familiar path to the creek, so caught up in seeing Mischief, that he didn’t notice Laura following him. Nor did he notice when she saw Mischief and immediately ran back to the house to alert their mother. Half an hour later, Derek did notice when the Alpha was approaching. Laura and their father at her sides. Peter nowhere to be seen. They didn’t run. They knew they’d been caught. Laura pinned Derek down on his stomach, while his father held Mischief still. An hour later, Derek was sitting at the dinner table with no memory of Mischief or Claudia, feeling like there was something very big he was missing. Mieczyslaw woke up in the Preserve, missing his mother and something else he couldn’t identify. When his dad called him Mischief, he broke down crying and chose a new name. One that didn’t remind him of the gaping hole in his chest. A month later Paige died. Six months after that most of the Hale pack was killed in a fire. Six years later, Laura Hale returned to Beacon Hills. She was killed by a wolf with no humanity left who knew what she had done. The Alpha spark healed his body, but his mind was slow to follow. It wasn’t until Peter was resurrected that he was free of the damage the fire had caused and had a clear enough mind to slot all the pieces together.

 

            Derek glared at Peter, who hadn’t left his side since the warehouse. Peter seemed unperturbed by it. In fact, he seemed to be perfectly content with the glare, like he had accepted he deserved it. Peter flicked out his claws and was examining them. “I’m not your enemy, Derek,” Peter sighed. “If fact, I really do wish to help you understand what was done to you. To us.”

            “I know what happened,” Derek growled. He did not want to relive the pains of the night with his undead uncle.

            “I don’t mean the events caused by my wayward beta. I mean the loss of your Mischief.” Peter put his claws away. Something scratched at Derek’s chest, the constant empty feeling aching a bit more than usual at the word. Peter clearly noticed the tension. “You don’t know who that is, but you know they’re important, don’t you?”

            “What are you talking about?” Derek growled. Before Peter could answer, Derek’s phone went off. He looked at the caller ID and rolled his eyes, but he answered anyway. “What do you want, Stiles?” Peter perked up at the teen’s name.

            “Calm down Sourwolf. I just wanna know if you found your betas. They said they were heading back when Chris cut got us out,” Stiles said.

            Derek frowned. “Got you out of where?”

            “The Argent’s basement. Murder Grandpa kidnapped me, Erica, and Boyd, and was electrocuting them while beating me up. You didn’t know?” Stiles actually sounded concerned. “They haven’t shown up yet?”

            “No. Call me if you see them.” Derek hung up and was moving towards the door, Peter in tow. “If you’re coming with me, you better not hurt them.”

            “I would never disobey my alpha,” Peter said innocently. Derek hid his shock at the even beat of his Uncle’s heart. “Which is you, by the way. In case that part wasn’t explicitly clear. I’ll drive.”  Peter brushed by him heading for his (probably stolen) BMW instead of Derek’s Camaro. Twenty minutes later they were in the woods behind the Argent house, tracking the scents of Boyd and Erica when Derek’s phone rang again.

            “Derek,” Stiles gasped. “I found them. I’m at Hale house. Get here now.” Stiles hung up the phone before Derek could say anything. He didn’t have time to be angry that the teen had been out looking for them after being injured earlier in the night. (Not that he understood why it irritated him so much.) Derek looked at Peter, who was already running. Then Derek was off. He smelled blood long before he got to the house. The Alpha beat Peter there. His betas were laid out on the floor of what had once been the dining room. Stiles was in between them looking more than a little frantic. He looked up at Derek. “Dude, they’re dying.” Salty tears trailed down his face. Peter came in, took one look at the betas then fixed his eyes on Stiles.

            “We need Mischief if they’re going to survive,” Peter declared. Stiles went stiff. Derek looked back at his uncle like he was crazy. Peter bulldozed on. “These wounds aren’t healing, and they reek of another alpha. Only magic will let them heal fast enough to stay alive. Mischief has magic. We need him.” Peter was staring intensely at Stiles.

            “Who’s Mischief?” Derek demanded, ignoring the strange twisting in his gut at the name.

            “It was a nickname,” Stiles muttered, looking more than a little shell shocked. “I went by it before my mom died, but I don’t know what he’s talking about.” Peter let out a quiet growl and pushed past Derek. He knelt in front of Stiles.

            “Talia stole him from you, but you can remember, and, if you want to save our packmates, you will remember,” Peter ordered. Derek frowned; his attention being drawn to the fading sounds coming from his beta. Against his will, a little whine worked its way out of his chest. Stiles’ eyes snapped to him. Peter caught the motion. He forced Stiles to look back at him. “You have saved him time and time again. You have felt drawn to him, to our pack since he came back to Beacon Hills. Talia tried to steal it, but you can’t steal from a Spark. You know why, Mischief. All you have to do is remember.” Peter’s eyes turned blue as he forced the words out. It took a moment of Stiles staring at the ‘wolf’s glowing eyes before something started to change. His scent (normally muted due to his Adderall) sharpened until Derek could pick out apples and cinnamon mixing with ozone. Then his moles started to glow, a purple that slowly turned almost white. His whiskey-colored eyes flashed the same purple and suddenly he was moving. He leaned over Erica, who was in the worst shape of the two betas. Sparks flew from his fingers as he ran them over her wounds, healing them. When she was breathing easier, he turned to Boyd and did the same thing. Derek couldn’t move. He didn’t understand what had just happened. He didn’t understand why Stiles, once he was done healing the betas, turned to Peter and tackled him in a hug as the glow faded. The ‘wolf chuckled but returned the embrace. When Stiles pulled back, he stuck out his tongue little sparks accompanying it. Peter laughed and smiled broadly. “There’s our Mischief.” Stiles wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead, he was staring at Derek like the Alpha was some kind of treasure. Peter followed his gaze and chuckled again. “Go for it. I’ll watch over them.” Stiles jumped up and dragged Derek out of the house. Derek couldn’t have fought it if he’d wanted to. Stiles kept pulling him into the Preserve until they reached a large flat rock near a creek. Derek recognized it, but he didn’t know why. It was there that Stiles released him. His scent was clearer than it had ever been, and it was starting to drive Derek crazy even though he had no clue why.

            “Stop staring at me like that Sourwolf. I’m still me,” Stiles muttered. Derek blinked several times, trying to get his bearings.

            “Stiles, what was that?” Derek asked, frowning. He knew his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Since when can you do magic?”

            “All my life,” Stiles shrugged. “I just didn’t remember it.” He looked away from Derek. “Before the mountain ash at the club, I hadn’t used my spark since my mom died. I didn’t know how big my spark was until Peter reminded me just now.” Stiles’ scent soured a little with fear, and Derek felt his wolf tugging at him to comfort the teen. It was stronger than it had ever been before. There was a word on the edge of his mind that he knew would explain why. Explain every confusing thing that Stiles had been for the past year, but he couldn’t find the word. “If I had, our betas would have never been hurt the way Argent was hurting them.” Stiles’ voice was ice. Without his permission, Derek was moving towards Stiles. He stopped himself just short of the teen. It didn’t make sense. His wolf was howling at him to reach out and touch and scent, but he held back. He had to know why.

            “Explain,” he growled. “What did he remind you of?”

            “Mischief,” Stiles grinned. “When I was little, my mom and I met an older boy in the grocery store. I was like 6. Mom had been teaching me a little about magic since I had started showing some sparks and stuff, so I knew what I was when I met this guy. But this guy, he was different than any of the other kids I knew. My magic reacted to him. It was like a buzz under my skin and hugging him just felt right. Like I could do anything. Like I would always be safe. Like I was home. His mom pulled him away before I got his name. After I explained it to my mom, she told me that the boy was supposed to be my mate. I didn’t really understand everything about it as a kid, but I figured it out. That first time we were separated for three days and I nearly blew up my house seven times ‘cause of how out of control my magic was. Mom said it was like that ‘cause I needed him to balance me.” Stiles looked over a Derek.

            “He’s your anchor?” Derek frowned. He didn’t understand why someone else being Stiles' anchor made his stomach sink with dread.

            “Yeah. His mom didn’t want us to see each other because she was worried about what it meant that his mate was a Spark. At least, that’s what his uncle said. We still found each other. Mom tracked him. He’s the one who first called me Mischief. He couldn’t say my name, but he thought Mischief was close enough, and I liked it.” A blush was creeping across Stiles’ face.  “I lost him the same year my mom died. We were forced to forget each other, and I didn’t even know I’d lost him. But I couldn’t handle being called Mischief anymore. That’s why I go by Stiles now.”

            “As interesting as that is, what does it have to do with what just happened in there?” Derek snapped.

            “Easy Sourwolf,” Stiles huffed. “I’m trying. I took one heck of a beating earlier and all my memories are jumbled. It’s not as easy to steal back memories from a dead Alpha as it looks.”

            “What.” He couldn’t be saying what Derek thought he was. After all, there was only one Alpha who he could be talking about. The only one who had been around when his mother had died. Stiles bit his lip.

            “When my memories were taken, I was ten. I’d only met my anchor four years before that. She took all my memories of him and my magic. Which meant I lost most of the memories I have of my mom. But Peter was right. You can’t steal from a Spark. Not really. You can’t steal from a Spark’s mate either though. Which means, once I find him, I can help him remember like Peter did for me.” Stiles inched a little close, but Derek was frozen to the spot. “Did-did your family ever tell you about mates?” Derek nodded absently. “What’d they say?”

            “You only get one,” Derek mumbled, feeling compelled to answer. “You know the first time you meet them. Peter used to say that not every ‘wolf has one and if you find them, never let them go. Laura said that ‘wolves who had found their mates were more vulnerable.” Stiles frowned at that. “Mom wouldn’t talk about them. She ordered Peter to stop talking about it.”

            “Of course, she did,” he huffed. “It’s complicated and I don’t know most of it since everything I know about mates either came from my mom or my research when Scott first got bit. It’s different for werewolves than it is for a Spark. I recognized my mate through magic. When my magic reacted, I just knew, but a werewolf doesn’t have that. Wolves know their mate the same way they know their pack. Through smell.” Stiles tilted his head a bit to the side like he knew his smell was driving Derek crazy and that would make it even harder to ignore. But he couldn’t have known that. Maybe the behavior, since his mate was clearly a werewolf, but he couldn’t know what he was doing to Derek. Right? “I asked what I smelled like once. He said I smelled like lightning and pie. Apple pie.” Stiles laughed. “He told me everything he could learn from my smell. How it changed. What could mask it. If I’d remembered that, I would have known that my smell has been hidden since I started taking Adderall. Incidentally, the Adderall is probably the only reason my magic didn’t go completely haywire when my memories were stolen.” Bitter anxiety bloomed in Stiles' scent, and Derek couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and resting his hand against Stiles’ cheek. He leaned into the touch with a gentle smile that reminded him of someone he couldn’t place.

            “Stiles,” Derek breathed. Stiles covered Derek’s hand with his own. Like it always did, the touch tingled, like sparks against his skin.

            “It didn’t stop me from feeling drawn to my mate. When he came back, it was like my magic woke up. Deaton saw it. The cryptic bastard knew that my magic was back. That was why he gave me the mountain ash. To see if it was all back or just some of it. Didn’t feel the need to tell me any of that though.” Stiles sounded annoyed, but there was a glint in his eyes that he couldn’t quite hide. “If he’d told me, I might have figured it out before Zombiewolf had to force it. Then the memories wouldn’t be nearly as jumbled, and this would be so much easier.” Before Derek could really form the right question, Stiles was glowing again, eyes bright purple as he grinned. Then Derek was being pulled into a hug. Without his conscious consent, he found his nose buried in Stiles' neck, breathing in the scent there. He was drowning in contact from the Spark and it was overwhelming. It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself in Stiles’ personal space, but it was certainly the first time Stiles had initiated the touch outside of a life or death situation. This was like none of those times. The buzz of Stiles’ magic burrowed into his skin. It was familiar and new all at once. It was like coming home. For the first time since the fire, since Page, Derek felt completely relaxed. Completely safe. Happy. Stiles pulled back a bit and laughed at whatever he saw on Derek’s face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that before, Sourwolf. Not since you came back.”

            “Mischief,” Derek breathed. It was like a fog was lifting. Memories coming back bit by bit. All those days spent together, talking on this rock. Learning control together. Just being together. Then it started to click. Stiles had said that Derek was his anchor. That Derek was his mate. Stiles was watching him closely as he let his magic fade.

            “You okay in there, big guy?” He tilted his head a bit.

            “You’re my mate,” Derek whispered.

            Stiles nodded. “You used to talk about that a lot. How no matter what we’d always come back to each other. You used to say that it was a bond that wasn’t defined. It was something that was just between us that we could never lose.” Derek let out a low whine as he pulled Stiles in closer. They had lost it. “It’s okay, Der.” Stiles rubbed small circles into his back. “It’s okay. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere ever again.” Derek heard the steal behind his words. He stepped back a moment and looked right into Stiles’ eyes. He slid cupped the Spark's face and leaned in close until their breaths were mingled.

            “Mine,” he growled. Then he slotted their lips together in a kiss. He’d meant it to be a chaste kiss, but Stiles was having none of it. His lips parted and Derek could feel as his tongue started to explore his mouth. Literal sparks flew as he nipped at Derek’s lips. When they broke apart, both of them were gasping a little. Their foreheads were pressed together.

            “Yours, Sourwolf. Always,” Stiles breathed.