17: Relight My Fire – Part 3

The shower did make Stiles feel a little cleaner, but just physically. It also resulted in some bruises on his right hand's knuckles when he hit the tiles a few times in his frustration, because yeah, he could do such stupid things too. But he needed some release, to feel some pain to... feel something aside the lethargy and sadness. It worked for only a few minutes, though.

He said nothing about it to Derek, because what was the point? He'd either just stare at him with disapproval or try to lecture him or pull the pain away with his touch. So yeah, the bruises stayed along with the light throbbing each time he moved his hand, but he didn't care. Didn't care about the fact either that his mate had noticed them – along with Tyr.

The beta was sitting opposite him by the cleaned table as Stiles was drinking some herb tea for his fried nerves. The big blue eyes were blinking at them, the shoulder-long hair damp from the rain outside, a mug of steaming tea in front of him too.

The silence after Stiles' summary about what had happened was deafening. Tyr was all caught up with what went down with the other alpha and perhaps felt that the noose was kinda tightening around his neck.

"We need information about that alpha. You had slept with him a few times as he pointed out," Stiles said on a mostly neutral voice. He had no desire to do this conversation, but they had to. "You never told us about that, though... Either way. Do you know his name? Or anything we could use to learn more about him?"

He was going to get kicked out of the pack, Tyr knew it, since he hadn't even been part of it. They weren't happy with him and he wasn't going to make fucking excuses about it. If he had figured it was something he was supposed to tell them, he would have. Alphas fought, it's what they did so why was this even a problem? It wasn't that hard to imagine that Zepar had torn into Derek like the beast that he was. He was older and stronger and had weight and height on the scowling alpha, who was leaning against the kitchen counter with his arm crossed, face unreadable.

The moment Tyr had gotten to the loft he knew something was fucking wrong because there was so much tension that he wanted to run right back out.

"Yeah we had sex together and it was great but it's not like there was a fucking romance happening. It was sex. He wasn't looking for more, he made that clear," Tyr rubbed at his forehead because there hadn't been much talking happening between them so he tried to remember anything that would help them.

"I called him alpha mostly but at our first meeting he said his name was Zepar. He once said his pack life was complicated. That's all I know, I fucking swear."

Derek felt out of sorts, making it hard to focus on what was going on even though he knew this was important. Stiles was pulling away from him, the bruised knuckles and the way they were handled were proof of that. There had been that empty sullen look thrown his way, daring him to say something about it because it didn't matter anyways. As if Derek was going to handle it wrong and was expecting them to get into a fight. And the more the human was pulling away, the less the Hale knew how to fix this.

"And you didn't think telling us about an alpha was important? You heard us worrying about a brown wolf and you kept quiet."

"I thought you had fucking smelled him! I didn't even know he was a full shifter!" Tyr threw back at Derek, and that shut the alpha up. Yeah, normally he would have been able to sense it or smell it but maybe this... Zepar didn't hide it from Tyr. There was no way of knowing and that's what the whole problem was. Derek didn't trust this beta, he wanted to, the young one needed guidance and help since he wasn't ready to be part of the human world. But at the moment he didn't even want his daughter around this one. He wasn't lying, that didn't mean he was telling the truth, though.

"I don't know what to believe, Tyr."

Stiles stayed silent while the wolves were bickering. He rubbed his forehead, looking more tired than before. Finally he sighed and looked up at Tyr. He could understand why his mate had said that and was kinda with him on this.

"He masked his scent and presence. He is protected by powerful magic. So we know there's a strong druid behind him. We have to figure out who this Zepar guy is and maybe we'll have luck to learn something about his ally too," Stiles explained. "He is a big threat to our pack so we are on edge. He nearly gutted Derek and I had to conjure a considerable amount of magic to chase him away. He most likely came here to tear me away from Derek. I'm not sure you understand how serious that is for us..." he paused, his eyes somewhat understanding but at the same time serious too.

"You're a good guy, Tyr. It's just... so very complicated at the moment. Please, try to understand our point of view too. Why our trust in you is kinda shaken at the moment. We are... not in the best mind-space right now."

They didn't outright say it but Tyr knew what they were trying to say. And it wasn't... that surprising. It wasn't like anybody wanted him around. It wasn't like he was expecting to find a pack. Tyr had been hoping to be taught how to shift back so he could go back to where he had been all those years, live as a wolf because living in this way was so much harder. The sex was great, he'd miss that but it wasn't enough to want to keep being humanoid. Lowering his eyes, he sighed.

"Yeah, I get it, I'll grab my things." There were no more words needed, it was all said without it being said. The two got attacked by the alpha he had been fucking and because he hadn't said anything, they didn't trust him. And Tyr wasn't going to beg for a place to stay.

Before they could say anything, he bolted upstairs to start packing, not taking the clothes that were bought for him, only the stuff he had when he got here. It wasn't much, it was only a backpack full because he didn't need much. He'd steal clothes if his were too worn and he can get food from trashcans. Life on the streets wasn't complicated. It sure was fucking easier than being part of a pack.

Brushing at his eyes, he refused to let tears fall, because he wasn't going to be crying about this. There were a few things of his at the sheriff's house so he'd grab those too and say goodbye to the kiddo. When he got back downstairs, there was money handed to him by the alpha which he gave back.

"I don't need it, thanks. I'll catch the bus to San Francisco. Big cities are easier."

Easier to live on the streets. Tyr didn't say it but that's what he meant, they were kicking the beta to the streets. Derek didn't know what else to offer instead of money. He would have made some phone calls to see if there was a place for Tyr to go but the younger man was so quick to pack his bags. "At least stay in a motel. I can see if there's somebody willing to take you."

"Dude, I'm not a child. I've been on my own. It's better this way, I don't think pack life's for me, too many rules. Thanks, for everything. There's a guy in Kansas who was nice and might be willing to let me shack up for a while so I'm fine. I'd hug you both but you two look like you might fall over or bite my head off so…" The beta mock saluted and was out of their lives as abruptly as he got into it.

It left Derek feeling like an asshole, like when he had kicked Isaac out – even if that was for his own good. And this was for their own good. That didn't make it okay, nothing about any of this was okay. In all likelihood, Tyr was going to run straight to the alpha and then they'd know they had been right all along. At least they had a first name. It was something to go on, it was something.

Stiles so wanted to get up, to go after Tyr to stop him from going upstairs, to stop him from leaving. Instead he was sitting there frozen, gaze fixed on the table top as he was swallowing hard, his bruised knuckles turning white around his half-empty mug of tea.

And then the elevator took the beta downstairs and was out of their lives like the whirlwind he was...

Stiles was still sitting there, now guilt-ridden, angry, disappointed and even colder. The world felt like falling apart around him. The waves crashed over his head again and he had no ground under his feet, no strong arms to fall back into. Or at least it felt that way as darkness was closing in on him even more.

The silence was heavy, the air getting charged with static as his magic stirred inside.

Then his Captain America mug smashed against the closest metal supporting beam with a loud clash, the remaining tea running down towards the floor. For a second he just stared at the stain and the pieces of his mug. He didn't remember standing up, but he was. He threw the mug, it wasn't his magic. His fingers itched to flip the table, to destroy more things, to release some of the bitter helplessness and tension.

Instead he started moving towards the stairs, grabbing his laptop from one of the couches in the living room. "I'll be upstairs in the greenhouse to research that son of a bitch," he gritted through his teeth.

In the greenhouse. It was the biggest middle finger Stiles could throw at Derek because it was spelled to keep it inaccessible to others. Mostly to keep them safe because of all the poison the small house had, and because Stiles needed his own little safe place where he could hole up so the Hale hadn't protested back then. Now he felt that maybe he should have because his mate was going to be somewhere he couldn't be. The human obviously needed time alone so not a protest left the wolf’s lips, he didn't say anything at all. There was a glance to the door where the beta had left, then to the stairs where Stiles had disappeared up to.

The mug was beyond repair, it ended up in the trash and the tea was cleaned up, to give Derek something to do. Which wasn't even ten minutes in total. Derek lingered in the kitchen for a moment, unsure and feeling useless. His restless pacing took him to the bathroom where he removed his stitches and threw the bandages away, air was always better for a nearly healed wound anyways. There was more restless pacing, back to the window to look at the rain, then back to the kitchen even though nothing helped the feelings inside.

The emotions of feeling angry and having no control over anything anymore as it was all falling apart around him were familiar. How often had he stared at the window as he brooded over everything? Perfecting the art of doing nothing, like Isaac had sneered at him years ago. Yeah, he was a master at it by now. What could he do? Research was Stiles' department and looking for the alpha by himself was stupid, it would endanger everybody, no matter how badly he wanted to unleash his anger on him. Going to visit Beth by himself would leave him open for an attack and maybe draw the alpha to the Stilinski home so yeah, he really was useless at the moment.

After more pacing, he decided to slowly work out, get his body back in shape was a priority. And the pain of pushing his body was a welcomed distraction, pain he blocked from Stiles. Only the pain. Some things were his own and didn't need to be shared.

***

Stiles spent hours up in the greenhouse. His emotions were like a roller-coaster ride. Up and down, up and down. The anger and frustration and desperation coming and going, but he tried to focus his tired and overworking mind on the research. What he found out about this Zepar guy with some help from Deaton over the phone was nothing good regarding their situation.

It was already dark outside, the rain picking up again as Stiles leaned back in his chair and rubbed his slightly trembling hands over his face and burning eyes.

He has to gather his strength and go down to the loft to tell Derek the little but crucial information he had managed to gather about the alpha. But he was stalling still, because he had to make sure that he could look at Derek without any anger or blame in his eyes for letting Tyr go like that. He was just as much to be blamed, he knew. He should have stopped the poor beta who looked like a kicked puppy at the verge of tears. They had promised Tyr to help him find his way in the human world and now because of this fucked up situation he was back on the streets in this awful weather, probably already soaked to the bone, eating from dumpsters...

These thoughts made Stiles' eyes water up again and he wiped the tears angrily away. They'll have to fix this. Even if as the alpha of their pack Derek wasn't going to do anything about it, Stiles felt obliged to right this wrong. Sure, their trust in Tyr was shaken for sleeping with the enemy alpha and not thinking that mentioning something like that was important, but the guy didn't deserve to be kicked out onto the curb like an unwanted dog... For that he was angry both at Derek and himself.

Then he took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. The other topic he talked about with Deaton was even more painful for him. Good thing that he temporarily spelled the greenhouse against eavesdropping too. So even if Derek tried, some conversations between the two druids could stay private. It was a useful little spell, indeed. Because if Derek knew about this... well, he'd probably go ballistic or something.

But Stiles saw this as the only way to deal with the problem that he became as a Spark.

***

"What is it, Stiles?" Deaton asked after a heavy silence on the phone once they finished discussing the alpha. The druid knew something was up. Stiles was unusually quiet and was hesitating about something.

"Is there a way to lock a Spark's magic away?" he finally asked on a quiet voice.

There was dead silence on the other end of the line for a good minute before Deaton probably came over the shock and tried to see behind that question. "It is possible, yes. But it is not the solution, Stiles," he said carefully.

"Why not? All this shit is happening because of me!" he started pacing, looking out through the glass at the angry grey skies, which reflected his mood. Maybe he was causing that too. He didn't know anymore. He and the magic were restless enough for that to be an option. "If I hadn't dabbled in magic... if I didn't insist on you to train me... I shouldn't have."

"It is not how it works, Stiles..." Deaton warned.

"I don't care. Zepar said it too. He's just the first to come. There will be more challengers and problems because of what I am. And now of all people... Derek fears me too..."

"But it'd mean to lock away... to sacrifice a big part of who you are..."

"I know."

"Are you sure? Absolutely sure? You should give this some more thought and time," Deaton warned again. "It cannot be undone once that rune gets tattooed into your skin during the ritual. And you'll have to want it with all your being for it to work." Otherwise many druids would've probably been stripped from their powers during war time.

Stiles took a deep shaky breath and nodded – not that the other druid could see that. No, he wasn't sure, but it was something he had to do. Even if it made his magic restless and... disapproving. "If it means I can keep Derek and my family safe, it's worth it..."

"Very well..." Deaton said after another long pause. "I'll look into this more and we talk about it again."

"And soon. If there's no magic, there's no challenge, no reason for them to want to take a human mate away."

"That's not true and you know it. They could still use you against Derek."

"Yeah... well, but not for the magic. I've been a human among supernatural creatures enough not to rely just on magic."

"True. But it will take some time to examine all the aspects. Your emissary and mate bonds complicate things, not to mention the magical wall in Derek's mind. We can't rush this for both your sake."

"Fine... I want him to be okay. Will the wall hold?"

"With the remaining magic in him? Yes. For quite a while. Then my sister and I can renew it and keep it up as long as it is necessary for Derek to deal with the rest of his trauma. We needed you as a catalyst only at the beginning to make the wall strong."

"Good... That's all I want. To keep him safe."

"I understand. But I'm not thrilled about this decision, Stiles. There are other ways..."

"No. I want to do this. It'll be better for everyone on the long-run. And don't tell Derek."

"Alright. I disagree, but I'll help."

"Thanks, Doc. Keep in touch..." he said then ended the call. This time it was Stiles who didn't say goodbye.

***

His tears after that call were long dried. He sobbed for a good half an hour afterwards before he returned to his research about the alpha. Now that the decision was made, he just felt... empty. Like a shell of himself. Was this how Derek felt after losing half of his soul? No, he was probably worse off. How silly of him to try to compare this to something like that! He shouldn't be so fucking selfish... Instead he should steel himself for his ultimate sacrifice for what he and Derek have. The wolf had warned him that being with him wasn't going to be easy. It was true. But... despite all, it was still the most important thing in Stiles' life. He didn't want to lose his man. Didn't want him to get hurt like this or worse because of him! Because of what he is...

With a bitter sigh he switched his laptop off and left it on his worktable. He didn't find anything online anyway. Instead he grabbed an old book on the history of werewolf packs with a few sticky notes sticking out from between the pages and walked outside into the rain to cross the roof. This wasn't going to be easy...

When Stiles emerged, Derek had just came in as well, jeans and shirt completely soaked as if he had taken a shower with his clothes on. He tossed his keys in the bowl, because apparently a key bowl near the door was something they needed although he had to admit, with Stiles using the Camaro as well, it saved them from some constant key searching. Rain water was dripping on the floor as the human dragged himself down the circular stairs, just as a flash of lightning tore across the sky as if to illuminate their moods. The younger man's eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and he was too carefully composed for the spaz he normally was.

Derek had gone out when after a few hours Stiles had still been up there. After working out and more pacing, he had realized that doing nothing wasn't something he was good at, even though it may seem that way to others. The wolf paused briefly to rake his eyes over his mate, smelling the anger and disappointment on him (the scents familiar by now), into which he was about to get laid in. And he deserved it so it wasn't like he was going to fight Stiles on it, he'd let him, because it would make him feel better. Some of that anger had to get out because it was going to mess with his magic. Wiping some of the water from his face, Derek tilted his head upwards to steel himself.

"Okay, let's hear it." Might as well get it over with to solve some of the tension between them. He wasn't an idiot, Stiles hadn't been up there for so long to get information on Zepar. He was hiding away from Derek, even going as far as to make the place soundproof because his heart beats hadn't been heard. He got that, he got needing time to themselves, but it was the sneakiness about it that made Derek doubt it was anything but to avoid him for negative reasons. Ever since he had reacted poorly to the outburst of magic, they had been in this position and he had tried to correct the mistake by offering to do more magic, but Stiles wasn't letting him. It was stupid, he knew that, he knew the fear had been leading him. The Hale could do better, could get past this but that required another chance.

And he was pissed off about it too because Stiles didn't want him to block anything. Last time Derek had done that, the Spark had exploded so he couldn't risk that. Which meant Stiles had felt the fear of the magic deeply and refused to give Derek more than that one try. How was he supposed to get over it if he couldn't get used to it and couldn't block it? They were at an impasse with it all and he had a feeling they were only going to take steps backwards.

Stiles paused by the bottom of the spiral staircase from that comment. He felt Derek's anger too and knew it wasn't about the soaked wolf asking what he had found out about their enemy.

"I hope you got soaking wet out there while searching for Tyr..." the human finally said with maybe a bit more edge than intended while he slowly walked over to the living area and sat down on one of the couches, the worn book on his lap as he kept fiddling with the cover's edge and the peeking out sticky notes.

He only glimpsed at Derek again then. He looked and felt pissed and like someone who wanted to fight. Maybe they should instead of pushing down everything. But aside from that snarky comment, Stiles wasn't sure he could... or should with the stirring magic and the void he felt in him. But then again this was Derek Hale, the master of getting on Stiles' nerves with his ways...

"What do you want me to say?" Another glimpse at his mate, this time sticking to the dripping wolf. Stiles wasn't sure what could be seen in his lightly shimmering irises.

Stiles blamed him for Tyr leaving, which was fine, he blamed himself too. The scathing remark therefor didn't really come as a surprise and Derek barely reacted to it physically.

"The rain washed away his scent and tracks so I didn't find him. I left text messages and voicemails." He had even gotten him a hotel room he only had to check into and he'd have meals and a place to stay, which had been explained in the voicemails. Derek had asked Tyr to understand that Derek made a lot of mistakes too, one of them being Tyr leaving. And told him to stay at the hotel while they got this whole mess sorted. It was up to the beta now to accept it or leave them forever. Since Stiles already thought the worst of him at the moment, he didn't explain it all.

Instead he removed his shoes to walk into the living area where his mate was on the couch, looking anything but comfortable. "The truth would be good." The werewolf was unfortunately a shouter if he got emotional, though right now his voice was low. His entire stance was closed off with arms folded across his chest, his defensive stance, usually one he still often fell back to over the years. It kept his arms and hands locked in, it usually kept others at a distance which allowed him to take it all in better.

His green eyes fell to the finger still wearing his ring. It hadn't been taken off or thrown at his head so that was something. It was however, not black. It was golden all the way which meant the human was hot enough to activate it, or more like, there was magic swirling underneath the mole-dotted skin. A 'magical' ring he had found online and had seemed like the perfect engagement ring for them. Only, they were anything but perfect, they were flawed.

"You're angry with me." Angry and disappointed.

"I'm angry with both of us for letting Tyr go like that. He didn't deserve that even if he held information back from us. He has no one else and nowhere to go. But at least you left him messages," Stiles said, guarding himself. It hurt them being like this around each other. It put strain on the bonds, but it was only for a short while now. Stiles will fix this too soon.

With a sigh he flipped the book open at a marked page and ran his slender index-finger across the lines. "I called Deaton about the alpha. The name 'Zepar' rang a bell for him since there aren't many running around with this name in the supernatural world. And if he's the man he suspects him to be then we are fucked. Does the Blackwood werewolf family name tell you anything? They are one of the original born werewolf packs residing near the Canadian border. They were famous for their vicious training and protecting their land. It was a huge pack in the past until a couple of decades ago when an alpha pack had attacked them and decimated their numbers..." he started, flipping through the pages before looking up at his closed up mate to see if he had heard anything about said pack.

It wasn't helping to simply push aside the problems they were having but Stiles had already done it so Derek focused on what he was hearing about this Zepar. The information didn't mean much to him though, because it didn't make sense. "So you're telling me that an alpha who had lost most of his pack to the alpha pack, is here to attack us? Us who have killed the alpha pack and made sure it wouldn't hurt others?" Zepar should be grateful to them, not attack them. Or was it because they hadn't killed all of the alphas and that's why he wanted revenge? It was possible even though it was stupid. As a born wolf he knew how important werewolf lives were. "Why not go after Ethan?"

Jennifer had killed Kali, Derek had a hand in killing Ennis but it was Deucalion who had ended him in the end and Monroe's people had killed Duke. Aiden was dead due to the Nogitsune, so this was not on them at all. Of course he had heard about the Blackwood pack, large pack, kept to themselves. Friendly enough to offer assistance in the past to werewolf business but Derek hadn't known them personally, that had been way before his time.

"It doesn't explain the magic, it doesn't explain anything. Except maybe him wanting to take new territory now that he had lost his own."

Stiles needed a moment to hold himself back and calm the magic which reacted to his stirred up emotions. He was impatient and tired both physically and mentally.

"Of course it doesn't explain anything because I wasn't done with the story. I was just checking if you knew about them," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to give it a short massage. Great, now he had a starting headache too...

"That alpha pack was a different alpha pack. Not Deucalion's. They aren't the only one. This happened like thirty years ago. Deaton said that this Zepar guy is kind of a legend among werewolves. Because after a couple of years of hiding away in the woods then gathering the survivors and more allies, they had killed the alpha pack and took their territory back. He said that more than one alpha emerged from their ranks that night because they stole the alpha spark from those whom they killed. It seems this Zepar guy became an alpha that night too. He was the true heir of that position but for some reason refused to become their leader and instead chose to live a nomad life, not staying at one place for long," Stiles explained.

"Little is known about what he's been doing for the past two decades, but Deaton shared a disturbing piece of information. To an unknown degree he is associated with the Druid Council. And those whom he hunts for some reason rarely survive. So yeah, we are fucked big time..."

The problem with werewolves was the fact that the born wolves were hard to guess age-wise, they all stopped aging for a while, had control over their appearance to a certain point. Zepar and Derek looked like they could be of the same age, but obviously Zepar was far older and Derek was younger than he looked. It explained why the alpha had the overhand, he was older and trained. And the Druid Council probably supplied him with the magic, druids who were also old and strong.

"He's an executioner for the Druid Council, that's why they don't survive. He's doing exactly what alpha packs do, come in to judge, play jury and executioner all in one." The question was, were they being judged now or had they been judged already? Was this him toying with them to have his fun or was this him testing them? Stiles had gone all out with his magic, no telling if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Zepar was not the one they had to go after though. He may be an alpha but he was only the lapdog. They had to go after the master of the beast, the one with enough magic to transfer bonds of mates.

Derek didn't know enough about druids and this council. He didn’t even know Deaton used to be the Hale emissary since Talia had been great at keeping secrets. Another Hale quality. "Does that book tell us what to expect if this is a Druid Council matter?"

"That position... it makes sense in a way. I've read before that wolves who bond themselves to druids in the Council might do the bidding of their master..." Stiles mused then glimpsed down at the book again. "It also makes sense that they would want to keep an eye on a rising Spark, huh?" he snorted with a bitter taste in his mouth. "Test him. See what he is made of. So I guess the attack two days ago was a way to test us. I just don't know what the results are now. Why he isn't back yet. I'm feeling watched all the time, even if the wards and protection spells aren't triggered. But then again, he could get through those so easily. Who is saying that he isn't spying on us right now too?" his eyes widened for a split second as paranoia and panic made his breathing hitch for a moment or two. He felt useless. He had failed with the wards before and now brought trouble on their heads because of his magic.

That realization only strengthened his resolve to lock that magic away for once and for all. As fast as possible. They didn't have much time. He didn't have much time to act.

His bruised knuckles turned white around the book's edge as he stared down at the page but didn't see anything as panic tried to take over.

But Derek asked something. He should focus on answering that, right?

"No... It's a book just on old werewolf bloodlines. I don't know anything... I can't do this..." he gasped for air as the pressure in his head crawled down into his shoulders and chest and he watched the book skid onto the floor, his trembling hands going up to cradle his head and tug at his hair, a scream slowly starting to crawl up on his throat but it was trapped, making it even harder to breathe.

Yeah, it unfortunately made sense now. Zepar hadn't been interested in Derek because he had been there for Stiles and the only reason why he had attacked was to trigger the Spark or he wouldn't have even bothered with it. The result of it all… they had no way of knowing, not really. It was a wait and see situation. Something the two of them weren't that good at, understandably. It was easier to go into an attack mode instead of waiting like pigs for the slaughter. Which is what it felt like to Derek.

It was ironic though that he had not been baited into fighting with Stiles to avoid a panic attack from happening and now one was still happening. The magic was simmering in the air, and Derek knew he shouldn't make Stiles feel trapped so he slid to his knees in front of the human, hands on the bony knees.

"I don't know anything either, that makes two of us." Not that Stiles was going to hear those words. Instead he took a hand and placed it on his chest so Stiles could breathe with him. "I'm here, I'm right here." There was no other offer, he knew he should keep to short sentences, help focus on breathing, be encouraging and not to tell the other to calm down.

Stiles' mind barely comprehended the words, but he saw Derek in front of him. He stared at his pale hand on the rain-soaked T-shirt, felt the thudding heart under his palm and the rise and fall of said chest. He tried to match that movement with his own and push down the panic which threatened with choking him. His control was slipping over the magic and he dreaded the possibility of another outburst right in the middle of their home, with Derek inches from him. The possibility of hurting his mate tore an ugly sob from his mouth and the panic tightened his chest some more.

Focus!

Breathe!

The tiny colorful dots dancing on the edge of his vision were the messengers of fainting, but the more he tried to focus on Derek's breathing, the more they pulled back. He saw the magic too, reaching out for Derek, wanting to wrap around him in a nearly pleading manner as it stuck to the wolf's arms. Wanting to connect, to hold on to like a child clinging to his parent before being taken away. That thought made Stiles' mind swirl, because the magic couldn't really know he was planning something similar. It wasn't sentient in that way, right?

Another ugly sound slipped his lips – this time a choking laugh. Maybe he was finally going crazy. Maybe he was pushed to the edge of his sanity.

Breathe!

Tears were streaming down on his face again, but he did take a shuddering breath. Then another. The warmth and thudding under his palm finally seeping into his senses, guiding him, anchoring him.

The golden glow crawling up Derek’s arms in this desperate attempt to connect while Stiles held it back was heartbreaking. The panic attack was only getting worse with the denial, but Derek didn't dare to push more, even though the hand on his chest trembled with the strain of having to deal with everything. Normally he'd pull Stiles close, let him lean against his chest and wait patiently. This wasn't normal, and he wasn't even sure if his closeness was going to be appreciated right now when his mate couldn't even look at him.

Inhaling deeply, the Hale turned his arm to let the rune face up, hoping for the magic to connect. It didn't. It crawled over it but there was no connection made so no opening at the moment. What would be worse, pulling pain to attempt to get it where it needed to be or to press his arm to Stiles?

The moment he felt his mate was calming down a little, breathing at least even though it was still far too quick for his liking, the Hale reached up, pressing their arms together. Was it wise? He didn't know but it was needed, the magic was way too active. And he was ready for it, for Stiles he'd do anything. Always. Forever.

I love you. Don’t ever forget that.

That thought-like feeling coming through the bonds made more tears slide down on Stiles' face. He would've sobbed too if breathing wasn't his top priority right then. He didn't expect Derek to initiate the connection, but it opened up and Stiles finally lost his fight with himself and let it happen, the magic sizzling through his veins nearly painfully – as if in a way somewhat punishing him – but by the time it reached Derek, it calmed and simply flowed into him like a warm wave. Gentle and protective yet eager to be with the wolf. Maybe it was fleeing Stiles, 'seeking shelter' from a bad host. It was crazy and yes, heartbreaking.

Because maybe this was their last balancing, Stiles realized and without thinking he was on his knees in front of the couch, burying his face in the damp yet warm chest, his free arm going around his mate, fingers digging in his back and the offered forearm.

The ugly wheezing and quick breathing were slowly subsiding and were being replaced by soft sobs, the magic pulsing around and in them. Stiles didn't deserve the calmness it brought.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..." he sniffed, still crying. He meant the magic and making Derek offer to take it despite his fear. "I'll fix this, I promise," he added barely audible, his fingers twitching on the wolf's warm skin.

Derek wrapped his arm around the shivering human while the other was clutched tightly, the warm wave of magic swelling to a sea almost. How much magic had been building up there or was everything simply rushing over to him? The wolf accepted it, of course he did, the balancing wasn't exactly the problem, it was the manifestation of the magic in spells. This lava-like feeling and sight wasn't a bad thing, there were no bad experiences with it. The frantic shaking of his mate was lessened with how much of the magic was trying to hop over, as if it wanted to envelop Derek in a warm hug. It made his heartbeat rise as more filtered through, eyes starting to become amber.

It felt like it didn't want to be with Stiles and although Derek didn't know what all was going on inside that busy head, it probably had been so depressed that the magic hadn't felt at home. And in Derek's head there was a whole wall of magic so it felt familiar.

"We'll fix this." There was no ‘you’ in this, or maybe Stiles didn't want there to be a ‘we’ at the moment. They had known this moment would come, like new alphas wouldn't be created without consequences, the same could be said for magic.

"I don't think they're coming to attack yet. They’re waiting on us, to see how we're handling this. No use testing a Spark when he's unbalanced." Probably why Derek's leg wound refused to heal, magic tempering with it to see what Stiles would do. Would he force his help on his mate or would he wait? "They knew my fear of fire. They knew everything."

As if reacting to Derek's thought, the magic began dividing itself in the wolf and while most concentrated around the familiar wall and soul, some redirected itself and was flowing into the injured torso and leg, starting to heal it. It made Stiles sigh relieved to know that it was taking care of their mate even now when the magic felt 'pissed at him', his decision and slipping control making it feel kinda spiky towards the druid. Maybe this is how refused magic felt, he wasn't sure. But it didn't matter anymore either. He let nearly all of the meanwhile built up magic flow into his mate. It was going to be in a better place there.

Then he began slowly breaking down the connection, leaving himself with enough magic not to get sick and to be able to perform what was needed to put an end to this. Of course, he didn't comment on that or Derek's comment of fixing it together. There wasn't going to be a 'together' in this.

"Or maybe making me unbalanced is their goal. To see if I'll snap again." To which he was close to, it was painfully obvious for both of them. Tyr's departure and feeling being watched only adding to that stress, worsening Stiles' depression.

"Maybe while I try to dig up more on Zepar, you could start to sniff around about Peter. How much he might be involved in this. Where he might be," Stiles sniffed, his cold trembling fingers a few times caressing along Derek's pulsing and warm rune once the connection was broken. He's going to always remember how connecting to him like this felt, even if it was their last time.

The Hale hadn't expected Stiles to close their connection when they hadn't balanced, because most of it was in Derek when it was supposed to be about evening it out. It's not that he wasn't grateful with the extra help to heal his body, to not have to wait for days but to be back to his own self now. But not at the cost of his mate who was still acting strangely despite the ritual.

"Peter's not our problem right now. Why should I focus attention on that when it's needed here?" But he understood the implications. Stiles wanted to scurry back to the greenhouse where Derek couldn't reach, wanted to be away from him. Pushing him away even. After Derek had showed him that magic was something he could take, willingly, that Stiles wasn't forcing him into anything. It hurt. To be still denied when it was clear the other was barely holding it together. None of it made sense.

Stiles felt sad, almost as if he was saying goodbye, almost as if he was getting ready for them to be over with. Was he going to accept Zepar's offer to protect Derek? Was he going to try and sneak off on the fire escape and not look back? Pulling away, Derek realized he was going to have to trust Stiles to not do anything stupid, and that if he chose to join Zepar, it wasn't the werewolf's right to stop him. Being with him, it wasn't easy, he had warned his mate about that and maybe that warning was finally understood.

"But you want to be alone so I'll pretend to sniff around about Peter." He might leave to look for Tyr again but Stiles was too depressed right now to leave him alone in this big building.

The human suppressed a bitter sigh and rather bit down on his bottom lip for a long moment when he felt Derek's pain and confused thoughts. He couldn't exactly tell what he was thinking about, but he knew he felt denied after everything. Maybe to ease that feeling in his mate, he lifted his ringed right hand, his own rune burning lightly both from the transfer and the strain on their bonds and caressed Derek's stubbly face.

"Right now..." he started hoarsely then cleared his throat before starting it again. "Right now I don't want to be alone. I'd like my mate to take me to bed and just hold me. If that's okay with you..." he said, closing his burning eyes and pausing for a long moment. Nothing about this was easy and Stiles was falling through the cracks fast. He needed Derek to keep him together during the night before he continues the preparations for what he has to do.

"I'm so tired…" he whispered, tightening his hold around his mate. He was oblivious about Derek thinking that he might be preparing to leave him for Zepar in order to protect all of them. Frankly, it was an idea that had crossed his mind in the greenhouse, but he felt physically sick from that thought so he quickly discarded it. Not that Derek would know anything about that, though.

Now he just wanted to lay in the warm embrace of his man, to be surrounded by that unmistakable werewolf heat and scent and pretend for a night that everything was going to be fine.

The complete one-eighty Stiles did confused Derek, because he went from cold and depressed and detached and telling the older man to go work on Peter to wanting to share a bed together. So he blinked at the human for a few moments, trying to figure out where the change happened and he realized some things he wouldn't be able to understand. Was it to make him feel better or them both? Was this a way to have a final goodbye? Why even give Derek so much of his magic when he needed the energy himself? None of it made much sense and even though he wasn't tired, he had a lot of magic inside of him, so he nodded.

Sure, they could be in bed together and he'd hold Stiles as he slept because he needed it. It was going to be useless to try to get some food into either of them, because the stress was too much to think about food even though it would be better for the human. Last time they had food was in the afternoon and that hadn't been finished by his mate.

Not saying anything, Derek lifted Stiles into his arms to get him to the bedroom and into the comfortable bed. He undressed and kicked the pile of wet clothes in the corner. That was a worry for another day. Getting dry underwear on, he got into bed with Stiles, pulling the covers over them both.

"Sleep some, we'll talk tomorrow." Or not, but that was a worry for another day.

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