18: If You Dare – Part 5

The Hale moved downstairs to the one room the floor below the loft he had claimed as his studio, it was a large room with a lot of windows to give a good light for painting. In a side cabinet was his tattoo machine along with all of the ink and he took the black with him, just in case it was needed. Which it was, Stiles had need for it the moment he placed it on the kitchen table.

"Okay. So this isn't that complicated. Get your pants off, gorgeous," he waved towards Derek as Stiles was already sitting by the table, measuring out some herbs and pouring a green liquid into a mortar, pulling the black tattoo ink closer to him. "Basically I'll mix the paint with this potion which will help the magic and my intent to stick under your skin. Then I'll fuse my magic with the ink with some chanting and it's stencil then tattoo time," he explained to Derek. "I had seen a tattoo gun in action before, obviously, but you'll have to guide me through it. The positive side of this is that we won't need a blow torch because my magic will burn the runes into your skin," he said, waving with his hand over the mortar then muttering some Gaelic words as he poured some ink into the mix.

"It's all about the movement and a steady hand." Taking the paper where Stiles had drawn the runes on, he used the stencil paper to draw them. He made them as thin as possible so it wouldn't require too many movements but not too small, it would make it harder. They ended up being the size of a bigger paperclip and would take up space to halfway his thigh if they placed it high enough. Taking the tattoo machine, he decided on a lining needle as he attached the grommet to the the stem. It was a hard rubber to make sure the needle would hit the skin as hard as possible since it was like ripping a band aid, it was better to make it hard so the nerve endings would get used to the burning pain. Bending the needle a little, it went into the tube and he attached it all to the machine, adjusting it until it was right, keeping it at 7.5 volts and the needle close to the tube. Last but not least, he wrapped the rubber bands around it. "You're going to need gloves."

Derek slid black gloves over, dropping his pants after that. Once the reservoir of ink was ready, he set up a little work place. And filled the small plastic cups with the ink. "You dip the machine in these to gather the ink, you wipe my skin often with paper towels so you'll see what you're doing. Most importantly, you hold it like a pen and don't press too hard, let it glide. Here." Reaching for an orange, he rolled it over. "Use this so you can get a feel for it. Tattoo it in there while I shave the spot."

Snapping the black gloves on, Stiles caught the orange after listening to Derek's explanation and let him adjust the gun in his hand to hold it right. He didn't let Derek shaving the spot distract him. Instead the druid held the orange in one hand, the tattoo machine in the other and dipped it into the ink before pushing the pedal to make it come alive with that familiar buzzing. He held his hand steady and tried to tattoo some lines into the orange which eventually formed the runes he was going to draw on Derek. It was bad at first, but the more he made, the easier it got as he got a hang of it.

After cleaning the needle, he tore off a few paper towels and turned to Derek. "I think I'm ready,” he said, showing Derek the decorated – in his opinion badass-looking – orange with a proud smile.

As the wolf was wiping the spot with alcohol, he glanced at the orange, it was going to have to do. "Sure, as long as it'll do the trick." Taking the machine from Stiles, he filled a plastic cup with water and cleaned it there. Just to be sure. Orange juice might mess up the spelled ink with the extra ingredient. Drying it, he handed it back and threw the orange away because nobody should be eating that by accident.

Now where should he be settling himself to make it easiest for Stiles? Guess the kitchen table was once again functioning as bed and he put a mental note to look into investing some sort of fold out massage kind of table so the kitchen table could be used for meals for a change. Derek hopped on the table and pushed up the leg of the briefs he wore, leaning on his elbows as he let one leg dangle over the edge so he could bend the knee and give the leg which was about to be tattooed as much space as possible.

"Does this work for you? You can use some of the green soap on my skin to apply the stencil, it'll leave a nice stamp for you to ink."

"Oh this works for me very much..." Of course, Stiles couldn't stop the double meaning or the suggestive wiggling of his brows as he was rubbing said soap over the shaved area. Because... yeah, his mate was sitting right in front of him on the kitchen table just in his briefs and a T-shirt. Who could blame Stiles?

"Aaaaanyways...." he sighed resigned and rather concentrated on placing the stencil on the thigh in a straight line before gently rubbing it against the skin to let the soap soak the paper and transfer the stamp-like runes on the skin as guidelines for Stiles for the actual tattooing. Once he carefully pulled the paper off, he checked the placement, which looked good, so he picked up the tattoo gun again and took a deep, steadying breath with closed eyes, summoning some of his magic, which flowed down into his hand and the machine just as much as the already spelled ink. And as he opened his eyes, the irises were a glowing amber.

Like in a trance, Stiles dipped the needle into the ink, murmuring on a foreign language and he began.

The steady buzzing of the gun was strangely calming, wiping away his fear of needles (it seemed it wasn’t that bad when he wasn’t the one being pricked by it) and pushing him deeper into what he was doing until the lines were starting to manifest on the werewolf's skin. As he wiped away the excess paint, they glowed amber for a while until they burned themselves into the skin permanently then their color turned into the regular black of the ink.

It didn't take long for every rune to be done and Stiles washed and wiped them clean at the end, inspecting his work. Doing this for the first time, the lines turned out to be pretty good and even, which made him proud of himself. He was still mumbling in Gaelic as he hovered a gloved hand over the tattoo to finish and close the spell with putting the strongest protective intent in the runes he could conjure up before they fully healed.

And then it was done and he just stared at the finished work quite moved, a thumb lightly rubbing Derek's skin not far from the new tattoo. "It was successful. You should be able to feel it for a little while until it settles. It's supposed to act like a shield, repelling most magical attacks and help focus your magical and werewolf strength," he looked up into his mate's eyes. "To some extent you'll be able to wield the magic in you too. Like... concentrate it into your limbs and other body parts to shield you or make your punches and kicks stronger. You know... like when I did that to hold you down in bed."

Being tattooed like that felt much like having small glowing coals placed on the skin as they seared away the layers. It was a sharp pain like only fire could leave but it was gentler than having a blowtorch burning it all away. Most werewolves passed out at some point with that, depending on how large the tattoo was. But it was worth it to have ink in the skin, and the pain was always quickly forgotten after the healing happening within minutes.

This time he was branded much like he was being tattooed, but his focus wasn't on the runes being carved into his skin with ink. No, Derek watched the frown of concentration on Stiles' face, the way the glowing amber eyes carefully zeroed in on what he was doing, the plump lips muttering in another language. The focus was intense, he had never seen anybody focus on something in the way Stiles could. It was like a super focus, forgetting all around him, not hearing or seeing much besides what he was doing. By the time the machine was turned off, the skin throbbed and there was a feeling like he had after they would end the balancing ritual and new magic would need a little time to settle.

Now he finally looked down to what it turned out to be. The runes still had thin lines, they were obviously there but once the hair would grow back, the little he had on the inside of his thighs, they'd be practically hidden. Not unless he'd be spreading his legs. It was a perfect placement. "It looks good, you did well."

With a few hours it would be fully healed and settled, if it even needed that much time. A dirty grin was flashed to Stiles when he had to mention holding his mate down in bed. Yeah, he remembered that, Stiles had demonstrated it in preparation for the rut. It had been like being cuffed with mountain ash cuffs, with nowhere to go. An iron hold.

"I'm happy you like it," Stiles admired his work for a few more moments while taking the gloves off then as he looked up, he caught that dirty grin. He instinctively returned it. "What? Don't tell me that from all my explanation that's what you choose to focus on! You dirty, dirty man... I think I might have corrupted you with my sexual being," Stiles snorted and stood from the chair to place his hands onto the table by Derek's sides, stepping closer between the open legs so he could kiss him gently. "I already love the runes on you. Even if I don't have a symbol like you do, these are like my marks on you... just as much as the two scar runes," he said, stroking his fingertips along the one in the middle of Derek's chest. Then he pressed another kiss against the wolf's mouth before teasingly dancing back to start cleaning up.

"It also puts my mind a bit more at ease knowing you are protected like this now," he continued with his monologue. "I think with time and if more magic surges happen along with our usual balancing rituals and as we grow stronger from those, your control over the magic and your own feral powers might get better too. I'm very curious and eager to see you grow like that," he added while moving around the kitchen, tossing the things out they didn't need then cleaning and disassembling the tattoo gun – because yes, he had paid attention when Derek put it together and could recall and retrace the steps.

"I heard the rest. It’s something I have to train with." And not in a couple of days either, it's something Derek was going to have to train with tomorrow if they wanted to do a swift attack to keep the advantage on their side. Tomorrow was fine, he'd be fully healed by then to give his all to test what he could do. They could stop somewhere abandoned where the alpha could unleash his strength without doing too much damage to something that shouldn't be damaged. Preferably something steel or concrete. Anything heavy and large would do.

It was why he focused on the one sentence, they needed some harmless flirting. It worked, Stiles was less like a pulsing angry mass, instead he was amused and relaxed. Even flirted back a little. "I've marked you already, with my bite. But I will tattoo you soon too." It could be his gift for kicking some Druid Council ass once they had won. They had to win, there was no way they had another option in this.

For a moment he watched his mate working around in the kitchen before he slid down from the table, helping him clean up. The tattoo machine ended up back in the case. Derek had a few of them, left over from a while ago.

"You mean my control on a full moon will be back?" That was going to be a welcome development, because Hell had destroyed his control and the last full moons had been challenging. Not damaging because they had taken their precautions but the control he had worked so hard for, that he could function normally while there was a full moon? That had been gone.

"Yes, you'll have to train with it for sure. I'll help if you want to. We also have to find a suitable space to do that. Without the fuckers noticing or following us," Stiles said then hummed as he finished with putting everything back into place. "I think it'll help you control yourself on a full moon and maybe even during next year's rut too?" he shrugged kinda questioningly. "I'm not entirely sure how well this will work for you. But I should've thought about protecting you with runes a lot sooner. I'm sorry about that. I have no excuse for that," he scratched the back of his head with a slight blush.

Really, it was kinda embarrassing and Stiles was also kinda pissed at himself for not thinking about it before. Well, that wasn't really true, he had thought about it before, he just forgot with all the things going on, including the huge amount of knowledge he had to absorb in a short period of time to be kinda up to date with all things magical so he could be a useful emissary/druid.

"And I can't wait for you to mark me again..." he added, his blush intensifying as he looked at Derek from under his eyelashes nearly shyly, long fingers drumming along the surface of the kitchen counter.

A space to practice without being watched and followed? That wasn't going to be easy. Although.... Derek knew how to actually get away unnoticed. They'd go into the vault, since nobody could follow them in there and use the other entrance to get into the school and use a window or back door to sneak away. They shouldn't be able to track them anymore with the runes on them both and Zepar was going to have a hard time tracking scents when he thought they were still hauled up inside the vault.

"Shhh. Shut up. No apologies about that." Leaning in, he kissed him to shut him up because that was just ridiculous thinking and he didn't want to hear it again. "We had a lot going on." If they thought of everything sooner, then it all would have been way easier. Life didn't work like that, they were doing their best with all that was going on, which was a lot, a non-stop rollercoaster which didn't seem to stop anytime soon.

"Soon I'll mark you like it should have happened." Consensual and not some bite in the middle of a rut. "But for now, we're grabbing our laptops and start researching. You get in bed and I'll get us some snacks and drinks." Operation Fattening up Stiles had officially started. But they needed the rest and the comfort of lounging in bed together as they first tackled the internet's knowledge on Nemetons so they could move to books tomorrow.

Stiles relaxed some more from Derek's reaction and kiss, which he savored. It helped him calm down more knowing that his mate wasn't pissed about his forgetfulness and that he actually understood. It also helped to stop the self-blaming before it even started.

"From my side it was how I wanted it to happen, but I get it. Consent and being aware of what you're doing and all that," he stroked along Derek's arm and squeezed it lightly. Because yeah, Derek wasn't really in his right mind while he gave Stiles' nape the claiming bite his mate chose to wear for the rest of his life as scars. It was a fucked up situation, especially for the werewolf, but Stiles wasn't going to ever regret that decision of his. For Stiles (and for that matter every other wolf) it was a sign that he belonged to this alpha.

"Alright, let's open our private investigator home office in the bedroom!" he smiled and pecked the other man's lips once more before he turned on his heel and headed in that direction, grabbing his laptop from the living room's coffee table. Sure, he was still somewhat exhausted, but the rest of the day spent in bed with Derek, snacking (and he saw what Derek was trying to do with that but didn't comment on it), doing deep research on magical trees and 'dark' druids was something he could live with at the moment.

***

The internet search hadn't revealed all that much on the Nemeton besides all they had known already. So it looked like the internet didn't have everything after all. There was nothing about an active Nemeton, as far as most were concerned, there were none. The ones known in the world, including the one in Beacon Hills were listed as inactive and long dead. Not all of them had been destroyed like the one here in town though, which made Derek wonder how it would feel for Stiles to be around one which was a large tree instead of a stump. They did however, find out that ‘darach’ meant ‘oak tree’ in Irish, and considering that the Hales originated from Ireland and much of the druid lore was also located in Europe, it was very likely Deaton hasn't been telling the full truth about what a darach meant.

So their research had turned up some facts, which they had written down on the large board in the bedroom, which used to be in Stiles' old room. It would help Stiles make connections so there were some notes added, and some red threads connecting the notes. It was a beginning. The rest of the time they had splurged on chips, and oranges which Stiles had insisted on Derek eating because of the blood loss, watched a movie and did some much needed sleeping.

In the morning, the tattoos had healed, settled in his skin and it looked good, unnoticeable as they had wanted them to be. After breakfast, pancakes with a lot of syrup and butter and bacon, they decided to head to the vault, not even bothering to be sneaky about it because they knew they were followed. There were a few empty boxes in the back of the jeep for the books, which Stiles brought while Derek used his claws to open the vault. Thank god it was weekend, because sneaking around with so many students would be challenging. The entrance, while nicely hidden away under the Beacon Hills high school sign, was right in view and a moving large stone sign was going to be seen as well. The air in the vault as they descended the stairs wasn't stale, because there was temperature regulation to keep all the artifacts in there from getting moldy.

Since there was motion, the lights flipped on, LED lights now which Derek had installed himself, because the exposure to it wasn't damaging to the books. And on cue, the sign shifted back in place, locking them in, keeping them safe from prying ears and eyes. The vault was still stacked full. They had their work cut out for them.

"Books but also items, we have to look at everything carefully now that you're a Spark able to use artifacts that might have been nothing before."

The last time Stiles was in the vault happened during the supernatural viral outbreak that nearly took the lives of Malia, Scott and Kira years ago. He remembered how he was banging so desperately on the locked wall of the other entrance from the school. How he thought his friends were all dead and that he was too late. It was a feeling he didn't like to remember that much.

But now everything was different. He was here with his mate, who was a Hale and had every right to be in here. He also noticed the changes about the lights and air, but he didn't pay too much attention to those – or the lurking stalkers outside – because this was what he really wanted to do the first time he set foot into this vault. To explore everything in it. And Derek was right, now he was probably going to be able to determine easier what might be useful for them – thanks to the magic.

With excitedly glistening eyes, Stiles rubbed his hands together and sighed kinda happily. He looked a bit like a little boy dropped into a toy store as he began to explore the shelves from left to right. He didn't try to hold the magic back this time. No, he let it flow lazily around his hands which reached out for every object on said shelves.

"This place is fascinating, you know. I always felt that way about it. Its air is so rich of your family's history... I can feel it..." he murmured to Derek as he placed a deer scull with some magical residue – probably used in some kind of a ritual – back to its place. Just to pick up a small dusty wooden box to check the pendant in it, some electricity sparkling between his fingers and the moon stone in it. He knew he should've focused more on the books right away, but it was easy to get distracted in this place.

"Yeah, it makes it clear how much this town already dealt with even before we got stuck with chasing off all the bad guys." Derek let Stiles do his thing, knowing there was a lot on the shelves to look at and explore. He had been the same way when he had been younger, curious about all the stories behind it and he was in the vault so often that he knew exactly where everything was because nobody moved it, not even Peter. They all seemed to be like these big treasures.

He opened up a wooden box to uncover the familiar metal triskelion disc, though the Celtic sign was on a lot of things here, it held memories. "Did you know Peter told me that the scratch on this disk came from scratching out the 'Made in China' mark and that it was a complete fraud to think this was something special used in our family for generations?" Derek hadn't reacted to it much, he hadn't believed it, refused to believe it and he still didn't know if it was true or not. Peter was good at that, good at hiding truths within lies.

"This is what Kate had wanted so badly." Seemed unlikely she had kidnapped Derek and kept him for a month, while he hadn't been unconscious all the time, only the last two weeks, and de-aged him all for the disc to teach her control. Like that would help her when control was the one thing she had sucked at all her life. "Can you see if… if there's magic there?"

It's ridiculous to want to know, but it mattered to him, it mattered in ways he couldn't put into words. Maybe he'd like to know that his mother hadn't lied about so much, since Peter didn't do anything but lie so that wouldn't be much of a surprise.

"I didn't know that Peter said that to you about the disc," Stiles said as he stepped next to Derek and respectfully took the object in his hand, first just letting it rest on his palm then lightly rubbing his thumb over a curve of the Triskelion with closed eyes, letting his senses size it up. "There's something that could be called magic stuck to it. It's an old object and was used by many wolves to learn control. Which is not an easy task and requires a lot of concentration while holding the disk. That leaves an imprint, a mark. Like their personal energies, a footprint of their werewolf magic..." he said, opening his eyes to look at Derek. He could feel it was important for his mate to know.

"Otherwise the object itself isn't originally magical. But I can feel it's handcrafted with lots of care and helpful intent. So Peter was probably just having one of his fucked up jokes only he finds funny or flat out lied to you. But I guess you would've been able to tell that," he snorted then slid the disk back into Derek's hand. "I can feel your residual energies strongly on it too. And you know that it doesn't matter if it’s magical or not. What matters is that everyone who used it believed in it and it was able to help them either fully or to some degree to gain control. So it is a useful object in the end."

The problem with Peter was that he said a lot of things about as much as he could. "I don't know when he's lying unless he lets me know." The oldest Hale was a master in deceit and manipulation, starting early on and it never had changed. He had done good, he had done bad, but in the end all that mattered to Peter was Peter. And Derek always fell to it because there had been so few family left and back then they needed all the help they could get, even an insane back from the dead werewolf. Derek had a few weaknesses, one of them being that others managed to get under his skin to manipulate him.

His fingers caressed along the metal of the disc, not feeling those kinds of energies himself, it wasn't his skill. It hadn't worked for him, not in the way it had meant to. "It's about repeating a mantra you believe in and holding onto something, a lot of young betas weren't familiar with their anchor yet so it helped them to have a focus." It had never been more than training wheels but still, he was relieved to hear it wasn't some object bought to train only the last Hale generation; that it had been in the family for a few generations at least.

Putting it back into the wooden box where it belonged, since they had no need for it, he glanced at Stiles. "I guess I just wanted something of ours to not be a lie within the family." Always so many lies, one of the many reasons why Derek didn't lie. He'd omit certain things, sure, but he never flat out lied and he had never used his claws to take away memories of others. Never used them like that at all. Closing the lid, he handed another object to Stiles. A crystal. "This is something you should take, it's sometimes needed in rituals."

"Peter is... something else," Stiles tilted his head to the side as he took the offered crystal. And he said everything with that statement, in his opinion. He never liked the cunning Hale from the remaining family. He saw through Peter's schemes after a while and could never trust him. Not after everything he had pulled on everyone. Often more than once. And Stiles would always be angry at him for the psychological damage he had done on his own nephew for whatever reasons. Starting with Paige...

Stiles briefly squeezed Derek's forearm as a sign of understanding and sympathy. He knew about the fact that the Hale family has been full of secrets, half-truths and often lies too. Which obviously bothered his mate. So he was glad that he could clear up the question of the Triskelion disk at least.

Closing his fingers around the transparent crystal, a smile crept onto Stiles' face. "This one is a strongly charged crystal. Good for some types of rituals. Especially for location spells," he nodded and pecked Derek's stubbly cheek. "Thank you. It'll be useful for us in the future, I'm sure," he added, putting it into his pocket.

Then Stiles continued the exploration of the shelves. After a while he began putting some useful things, like jars of rare herbs, spell ingredients and magical objects into a box. A few books followed too when they caught Stiles' attention.

"To be honest, I'd take much more books with us, but I think we might have time for that later... Now... I'm... I feel like I've not yet found what we came here for. But I can feel its pull..." he mumbled, reaching out his hand, letting it skid over the spine of the old books, the magic searching, tugging at him as he was waiting for that strange feeling each time he found something useful happened. It was like a magnet, connecting his magic to the magic of the object itself.

As Stiles focused on anything which felt like magic to him and would be of use, Derek was looking into the books to see if there were ones they could use for their research about the Nemeton. The problem with most of the old scriptures was the fact that one book never had just the one topic. So he couldn't be as picky as he wanted to be, not wanting to skip out on what they needed by accident. He'd browse through them quickly to scan some of the topics because if they were going to read all the books now, they'd need more than a day. After about twenty minutes he came across the books he had wanted to gift to Stiles, Satomi's books.

Quietly approaching his mate with the four books, he leaned in to kiss the back of his neck. "Do you remember Satomi? I think she'd like you to have these." There hadn't been much of her pack left, many had been killed when the deadpool happened and then many more thanks to Monroe, Gerard and all the hunters. The few left had scattered and some of the precious artifacts she had left behind had ended up with Derek. Her betas had insisted they would be better off with him and his legacy since they had no alpha to continue Satomi's pack.

"They're about meditation, I of course saved them here but I have no use of them." Mediation and Derek Hale didn't go well together. A Spark like Stiles would be able to do more with them or use the exercises to help others along the way. Satomi's wisdom shouldn't go lost. Alhough unfortunately, Derek never was taught how they were able to hide their scents. That would have been a useful skill to have.

Stiles attention was drawn back to Derek and the books in his hand by that kiss on his nape, which made him smile to himself. He loved it when his mate paid attention to that specific patch of skin.

"Yes, I remember her. She was a strange but wise alpha," he said, taking a closer look of the books. Of course, he remembered Satomi. And not just through the Nogitsune's memories of her. Stiles felt sorry for her and her mostly murdered then shattered pack. He kinda missed some of those wolves still. "Thank you, Derek. These are unique books that hold useful knowledge,” he leaned back against his wolf. "I'll treasure these too," he added and turned enough against the other to be able to kiss him softly. "This place is really like a treasure cove," he chuckled then went to the box to place the books in it.

That's when he felt a stronger magical thug.

Raising a brow, he straightened up and like someone drawn on a string, Stiles headed towards some shelves, but instead of stopping in front of them, he walked behind and to the furthest corner from the entrance. His now amber eyes looked around and zoomed in on a display cabinet. The strange thing was that there was a red curtain in front of the glass so what lay behind was obscured from the eyes. His hand reached out and before he could grab the knob, he saw a ward flash up.

Lightly frowning, he murmured some foreign words and the protective magic dissolved in the air so he could open the cabinet. There was... one single book in it. Black leather-bound with an intricate knot design in the leather. No title either on the front or on the spine. The magic was the strongest around this book and Stiles reached out for it mesmerized, like under a spell.

"What do we have here?" he asked more himself that Derek as he took the book from its place without any problems, the magic prickling his fingers, but not in an unpleasant way. He turned around, feeling Derek coming near, but the emissary didn't tear his eyes away from the book as he flipped it open with ease, the leather slightly creaking from not being moved for probably a very long time...

"How...?" Derek was staring at the book in his mate's hands that shouldn't have been opened, because it hadn't been opened in a very long time. So long that he had even forgotten it was there, hidden behind the curtain since there hadn't been any use for it. It had been one of those stupid family traditions almost, something passed down from generation to generation because the vault had been built when the town was founded. And the book had been in there for just as long. Who knows where it came from? The mark on it and the way the leather was bound suggested it was from the Irish ancestors.

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