Chapter Text
For the next few days, he and Derek are inseparable. He spends most of the first day in Derek’s bed – it’s still way too soon to think of it as ‘theirs’ no matter what the house might have to say about it – bundled up in the sheets together despite the summer weather. Derek even turns into a wolf a couple of times, making Stiles groan in delight as he burrows into his warmth.
He calls his supervisor at the Board, filling her in on the events of the day before which they've already heard about and to relay the news of his bonding. They’re all fascinated by the absence of the third test, so much so that Stiles knows it won’t be the last he hears of it, and she says to keep them updated with his symptoms in case of any adverse effects. Derek brings him his laptop after so he can submit an official report, bypassing the one he usually would have given after the third test.
He only heads downstairs when it’s time for dinner so he can spend some time with everyone, but ends up passed out before even the kids’ bedtimes.
The shivering and soreness last for a few more days, slowly subsiding, but he at least gains enough strength to go down and join the rest of the pack on his own. The aftereffects last longer than Joseph expected, but considering he forced the bonding through when it wasn’t yet time, they’re not too surprised or worried.
The news of what happened has spread amongst werewolf packs far and wide, and not only those the Hales are allied with. Even with packs they’ve never met, the Hales are well-respected, and the fact that something so sinister almost happened to them when they’ve had no serious brushes with hunters prior to this has sparked fear in all werewolf communities. If the Society doesn’t handle this the right way, who knows what sort of revolt they might have on their hands.
The truth of why Kate chose to target the Hales now is still unknown to everyone outside their small number, portrayed instead as Kate wanting revenge for a past altercation during this transition phase when Derek was at his most vulnerable. With the reputation that Kate’s set up for herself over the years, no one questions it.
He hears from his contacts at the Board that Kate and her accomplices are imprisoned awaiting a trial before the Council, and things aren’t looking good for them. He’s sure he’ll be called on in time as a witness and he won’t hesitate to give evidence.
While Stiles was laid up, Joseph and Jordan supplied the house with fresh timber which it zapped up to immediately restore its facade after the fire damage, combined with any other materials it was already storing. It looks as good as new, as Stiles discovers after going to inspect the damage one day after spending the afternoon on the lawn in the sun, leaning against a wolfy Derek.
He has a feeling that he’d be in much worse a state if it wasn’t for the house. The support it had extended beneath him when he first arrived now envelops him, like it’s feeding him its energy to keep him upright, keep the true exhaustion at bay. He doesn’t tell anyone else, but he’s starting to understand that what he’d done had been a hell of a lot more dangerous than he’d realised. Though he thinks the others might sense it on some level, and Joseph must have some idea. While he’s recovering, they refuse to even let him expend energy lifting a glass to his lips. It’s a wonder that Derek lets him go to the toilet by himself.
He’s only too happy to let Derek get his hands on him again though, particularly when they’re in the privacy of Derek’s room. There’s a bit of hesitation there still, like they’re still learning how familiar they can be and wondering if they’re going too far too fast, but it’s hard to refrain when he’s in a state where it’s only Derek’s touch that can alleviate his symptoms and makes him feel so good.
“How are you feeling?” Stiles asks him at one point during his recovery, the two of them lounging outside and enjoying some leftover pastries that Cora brought home after work yesterday. They’re from the bakery Laura had pointed out to Stiles and his dad when they went into town what feels like months ago. They’re just as good as promised.
“Like something was missing all this time and I didn’t realise it until now. My mom’s not the type of person to say I-told-you-so, but I guess this would be the moment.” He looks out at the sun-dappled lawn, shaking his head. “I had no idea it could feel like this. That this is what it was supposed to be.”
No longer does he drift into the background or stand with his back to a corner with nothing to say for himself. Instead, he’s in the thick of it, like being an Alpha is what he was always meant for, just like Laura said they always knew he could be. It might not have been the circumstances or timing that they’d all pictured, but Stiles believes this was always going to happen at some point.
“It doesn't mean I like the way everything has changed,” Derek says quietly, his eyes gone far away, remembering a place he can never return to. He comes back to himself to look at Stiles, his expression lightening. “I like having you here though.”
Stiles wishes he could send Derek back, but they both know he could only have one thing or the other. If Talia were still Alpha, they’d have no need of Stiles as an Emissary. He just hopes, in time, that Derek will grow to cherish this new normal as much as he does the old.
They’re just starting to talk about arranging for Stiles and his dad to box up their things from back home and sort out selling the place so they can move in permanently. It’s going to be a process, but Stiles doesn’t feel any apprehension, and neither does his dad. They’ve found exactly where they’re supposed to be.
Derek is eager to come with them to see where Stiles grew up and he doesn’t seem to want to part from Stiles yet. They’ve taken to sleeping together in Derek’s bed like they’ve been doing it for months, and Stiles always wakes to find that, no matter how Derek has fallen asleep, he’ll always have one hand reaching for him, even after the effects of the forced bonding have faded entirely.
Derek does tell him he’ll insist the house gives Stiles a room back so he can have some privacy whenever he wants it.
“There’s no rush,” Stiles assures him, bouncing in the comfort of Derek’s bed. A second meaning in Derek’s words hits him and he freezes, his humour turning to panic. “Unless you want me out, then—”
Derek silences him with a kiss before he can try to get up. “I think I like you—” Kiss. “—right—” Kiss. “—here,” he murmurs and Stiles grins up at him.
He reaches up to cup his cheeks, marvelling at this soft little smile that had been hiding under such a stony exterior when he’d first got here, when Derek had been so eager to see him leave.
“Careful. You’ll never be able to get rid of me,” he says, and Derek fondly rolls his eyes.
“That’s the plan,” he whispers, and Stiles can’t believe how much things have changed.