7: Into the Night – part 4

"So Doc, I don't know what you were planning on for tonight, but we have a more pressing matter. How much do you know about mixed pairs and ruts and preparing for those to keep the mortal side safe?" Stiles cut right to the chase, too tired mentally and emotionally to sugarcoat it for the vet or caring how Derek would react.

Jesus.

Stiles didn't even lead that with an introduction, nope, he went for it bluntly the moment they stepped into the building. It caused Deaton to blink, once, as he slid his gaze over to Derek as if to attempt to read how pressing the matter was. The alpha simply gave him a look back because he wasn't some newly bitten bumbling idiot, he knew of his ruts beforehand, they were regular, once a year on the dot. The vet sighed, though it could be for having to deal with this or for the complication that came with the question.

"Normally I'd suggest drugging the wolf to skip it to next year so the bonds have more time to settle. But in Derek's case, with his history of recent torture, I don't think it would be safe for his body to put it through the strain again."

Which was something Derek had known. He had come to Deaton after returning from Hell to stop the monthly-induced ruts since it was wrecking his body and mind. "There are some herbs I can get my hands on to take some of the heat out of it but he's an alpha, and you're human. Now, there is a way for me to know if you are immune to the bite. If you're not... then perhaps we should consider putting Derek to sleep for the week. It would be the safest," Deaton continued as he already started gathering the things he was going to need to perform the test on Stiles.

It wouldn't be ideal, Derek knew, to let the druid keep him under for an entire week but if it was the safest way, then maybe that would be for the best. If he could turn Stiles because the human had never wanted that and shouldn't have to.

Stiles didn't take his eyes off Deaton for a second as he leaned on his slender hands against the examination table. He thirsted this knowledge so he could build upon it for both his and Derek's sake. He ignored the wolf's well-hidden shock (well, not from him, thank you very much for the bonds). Instead he hummed and watched Deaton moving around and when he put two sterile syringes on the examination table, Stiles felt himself get a bit uncomfortable and he quickly averted his eyes to focus on the vet.

"So just as I suspected, there are herbs to help on containing the rut somewhat. I assume there are brews and balms I could use aside from my magic to keep it... as safe as possible," Stiles mused, deliberately not looking at the things Deaton put down next to the syringes. Because... yeah. Stiles and needles were still not best friends, even if he's gotten better with them thanks to the tattoos. But those were... different. "So, talk to us, Doc, don't leave us in suspense! How does this test work? What will happen? Because keeping Derek under for a week is the last resort in my book. So you better have a good method to test us..."

Deaton's reaction was a barely there smile – nearly condescending – as he stilled his hands on the edge of the examination table. "This method is old and nearly completely forgotten. But I have my sources too. I'll need to draw some of your blood first."

"Goddammit! I knew it!" Stiles sighed dramatically. "Why isn't it ever flowers and kittens? Not one time! So fucking unfair," he babbled, which was, of course ignored by the druid as he opened a bottle of disinfectant and saturated a peace of cotton with it, reaching out his other hand for Stiles to offer his arm.

"You are like a stone statue without the ability to feel sorry for your victims..." Stiles said, over-dramatized, of course, but bared his rune-marked arm.

The vet didn't say anything just focused on the task at hand and after disinfecting the crook of Stiles' elbow, he quickly drew some blood, once again ignoring the pitiful babbling about "leech" and "torture" and "I didn't sign up for this" kind of comments. He watched Stiles drop on one of the stools, keeping pressure on his "mortal wound". Unsurprisingly, taking blood from Derek went without a fuss.

The dramatics about blood taking was amusing, especially since Stiles had a couple of tattoos of his own and he had even carved the runes into their arms. Which had involved blood too. But apparently the combination of needles and blood still made him squeamish, something he tried to hide with the insistent babbling but they all knew better. Deaton didn't even bat his eyelashes twice at all the fussing and grumbling, calmly took what he needed from the human before he moved on to the wolf who of course didn't even flinch once. Or complained about it. He had been impaled by pipes and claws and knifes and whatever else, a little tiny needle drawing some of his blood wasn't something that made him react.

It seemed pretty pointless to him to do a test that wasn't foul proof, it wasn't making him feel confident in the rut, it wasn't easing the fear away. And even if Stiles was immune, the bite could kill him if his body rejected it. It happened, not all the time but it did happen, especially with older people, that’s why teens were the easiest to turn.

"What'll you do next?" Stiles asked, his curiosity winning over his rolling stomach and dizziness.

"It's simple. I'll mix some of your blood together and use some magic to activate the spell that would show us with... not full certainty... the results," he explained calmly while picking up the petri dish from the table to put some of their blood into it. The words the druid used made Stiles' skin hum with anticipation while the vet took the dish to his microscope.

And then they waited. It was kind of the moment of truth, no matter if the result wasn't going to be 100% sure.

Deaton stared into the microscope, hummed and turned his attention to the Hale since they had to wait a moment for the result to show up. "Is this something you want, Derek? To spend your rut with Stiles?"

The alpha ducked his head at the question and nodded, he had agreed, hadn't he? That should be enough.

"I see," was all Alan said, as if suspecting there was something going on with that but considering that it might be the better way for the couple to get through it, he wasn't fully against it. The vet returned to his microscope and didn't say anything for the longest of times.

Stiles was chewing on his bottom lip and once he tossed the used cotton ball into the trash, he folded his arms in front of his chest, his fingers drumming out a nervous rhythm on his arms while they were waiting. Those were some nerve-wracking few minutes. He even half-expected Deaton to say something else about wanting to be with Derek during his rut, but for once, he surprised the young emissary with not coming up with some cryptic advice. It was unnerving in itself too, because Stiles figured it showed that the vet knew how important and dangerous this situation was.

"Looks like there's a high chance of immunity. Not that all druids are like that. We can certainly make herbal remedies to ease the process of the werewolf rut, as well as wolfsbane powder to aid young Hale's resting periods since most alphas barely sleep at all in that week. With all the magic training, the soul loss and the fact you've only just healed, sleep is pertinent for you, Derek. As well as your mate."

Still, Stiles felt pleased by the result and he glimpsed at Derek with a small smile, but his mate wasn't looking at either of them. He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. He knew Derek was never going to be fully okay with this, but Stiles was a stubborn man too and this time he wasn't going to give in. He had told his reasons and thoughts on the matter to the wolf. He wasn't going to change his mind. Either way... Derek's acceptance was a forced one and Stiles hated himself a bit for that. But he knew otherwise he wouldn't be able to help (and probably stay sane). So there was that.

The petri dish was dropped into the trash and the vet leaned against the side cabinet. "Considering how young you are, besides the forced ruts, I take it you haven't had that many?"

"No, they started late and I've been an omega for most of my years after. Last January wasn't a good one so..."

"Your control is not working," Deaton concluded and Derek nodded to that again. "It will be wise to get back to your control exercises in a few months. You were late in controlling yourself around full moons. You're going to need the time to be ready for your next rut."

That was something Derek had figured out himself too but he still gave a grunt of acknowledgement at that. He wanted his ruts to be something to look forward to, not this week of horror.

The good news was that – just like Stiles suspected – Deaton had a few tricks up his sleeve. That energized the young man again, eyes sparkling up with the need to do something instead of just standing there listening to the conversation going on between the other two.

"So... until those exercises Derek should get back to... you could maybe start teaching me how to make those herbal remedies and balms?" he asked Deaton with a raised brow and expectant look, arms unfolding and long fingers tapping along the edge of the table. His whole being was buzzing with restless energy, but his magic didn't manifest yet, only slightly charged the air of the room.

The vet finally looked away from Derek and nodded. Without a word, he went to the cabinet with the books and started picking out a few along with vials, dried herbs, strange liquids and a mortar. He made a few rounds until everything was on the table.

"It was high time for your herbal training anyways," Deaton smiled faintly and handed over the opened book to Stiles to check the recipes and the beautifully drawn colorful illustrations of plants. "We'll start with that balm with the regenerative properties since that's an easier one. Then once you're more eased into it, we'll start brewing the cocktail that would ease the rut somewhat," he announced. "It'll take a while," he glimpsed at Derek, nodding towards a chair, maybe half-expecting Derek to simply leave, but no one could tell that from his neutral expression.

Honestly, Derek mostly came with in case he was needed because he knew the training was for Stiles' benefit first, which of course would be better for him as well. So when he realized that the evening was going to be about making herbal remedies and he was appointed a chair, he eventually settled onto it. Probably should have brought a book, he thought to himself as he watched the two druids bow over what they needed to make, the scent of herbs heavy in the air soon enough.

It wasn't that he needed to read, he was good at staring off in the distance, keeping half an eye on his surroundings while letting his mind wander. It was one of the things that made him so good at quietly watching people, or creepily stalking them as the teens had always said. The Hale could be quiet for hours like that. The trick was to either recall a book he had read, focusing on the story and its details, or write a story of his own or he'd draw in his head, plans for the building for example. He could have left, of course he could have but they were in this together and just because he wasn't needed tonight, didn't mean he'd just up and leave. Beth was in bed by now or he might have suggested spending some time with his daughter.

Instead while sitting, he leaned against the wall with his back, crossed his arms and watched, so quiet that he might as well become part of the wall. It wasn't that he hadn't tried to be the kind of guy to blend into his surroundings to be that forgotten person but he wasn't the type people would glance over and not see. They always saw him, either as the creepy leather wearing guy or as the hot guy. But they did see him.

The rune on his arm itched, which he had a feeling was his fault because of the tension between the two of them. He was trying though, to move on, to focus on what they needed to do instead of not wanting it. He had said yes and that's what he was going to go with. Unfortunately it didn't seem to work as well as he thought it would.

HEAT AND FIRE

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