ficlet: it's a choice
Author: froggydarren
Title: it's a choice
Rating: G
Pairing/s: pre-Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Alan Deaton
Summary: The touch is barely there, but Derek can feel it more clearly than anything else. His whole body is already attuned to Stiles’ and his arm turns without him meaning to, his hand slipping back into Stiles’.
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: Claudia's death mentioned, Hale family deaths referenced
Submission Type: ficlet
Word Count: 993
Prompt: #205 - amnesty week & #4 - scars
Author's Notes: It's finished! Okay, last part of the Cupid!Derek AU is now here. Previous parts: bowstring, string of fate, caught off guard, and hand in hand (in that order). Honestly, I didn't expect this to grow so much, so if you've been following, thank you! That said, this was so much fun to write ;)
He’s about to turn around and walk out of the room when he feels Stiles’ hand brush against his own. The touch is barely there, but Derek can feel it more clearly than anything else. His whole body is already attuned to Stiles’ and his arm turns without him meaning to, his hand slipping back into Stiles’.
“I didn’t think…” Stiles starts quietly, and his hold on Derek’s hand tightens. “Your family is from here, aren’t they?”
It’s the million dollar question, one that Derek was hoping to avoid while he was in Beacon Hills. When the bow first led him into town, he hoped that it was a one time visit, and that he could go back to pretending like Beacon Hills didn’t exist, even though he stayed nearby. He nods to answer Stiles’ question, but his eyes are turned to the floor.
“I didn’t realise that Laura…” the vet says, and he stops before he completes the part of the sentence that Derek can’t say out loud himself. “I’m sorry,” the man says instead.
“Did you know them?” Stiles asks, but the question isn’t directed at Derek.
“I did. And they knew me.”
“Deaton,” Derek says, the memory hitting him as the words reach his mind.
He looks up at the man, and thinks back on the times when his mother still had the bow that’s now on his back.
“You weren’t a vet then,” he adds. “Mom used to…”
“I stayed away from humans back then,” Deaton says. “With your family, and with Stiles’ mother, there was a lot to do, so I didn’t need to blend in.”
“Mom was a Spark too,” Stiles explains, though Derek doesn’t ask. “Deaton has been training me for the past few years.”
The ‘was’ doesn’t escape Derek’s notice, and he squeezes Stiles’ hand gently, to comfort him, to show him he understands.
“It makes sense, really, that this happened,” Deaton says, turning away to a bookshelf behind him. “It’s not the first time either.”
“What?” Stiles asks before Derek can, but the same question is on his mind.
“My Mom,” he says instead hesitantly, because he’s not sure if he wants to share the story with either Deaton or Stiles. “She used to tell me this tale about a Cupid and a Spark, and how they found each other. How the Cupid couldn’t find their own match and then it was someone with fireworks at their fingertips that finally fit.”
Stiles’ eyes are wide, and his lips part and then close several times.
“You said,” he says to Deaton, his voice carrying a tone of accusation. “You said that’s how you knew I was a Spark, and that her magic was…”
“...in her hands, yes,” Deaton finishes. “And I do believe that the tale Talia told Derek wasn’t fictional.”
“My parents?” Stiles asks. “My Dad?”
“Was Cupid, though not in Beacon Hills. He moved for Claudia, before you were born,” Deaton says, and he opens a book he pulled off the shelf. “He passed on the bow to someone, he never said who, when their bond was made.”
“It was my Mom’s favourite happy ending story,” Derek says quietly while Stiles stares at the open book.
“Not so happy, in the end,” Stiles whispers, and Derek remembers the past tense that Stiles used when talking about his mother.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Was it…?”
“Not magic. Well, not because of the bond,” Deaton tells him. “A magic mishap of a different kind. Her power was transferred to Stiles after.”
Finally, Stiles looks up and meets Derek’s eyes. His expression is a mix of surprise and sadness, with a bit of curiosity. He doesn’t say anything though, not before he turns to Deaton again.
“So, what about this bond,” he says, and he waves a hand between Derek and himself. “Is there going to be shooting involved? Because I’d rather not be shot at. Again. Also, there’s the whole question of consent. Does the bond mean that we have no choice? Like, are we stuck with each other? Not that I would really mind, I mean, dude,” Stiles turns to Derek as he says that. “You’re like, a twelve out of ten. But I’m sure you didn’t sign up for all this,” he points at himself.
“No, no shooting necessary,” Deaton says with a smile. “Derek, when he’s ready, if he’s ready, will just need to hand the arrow over to you.”
“That’s it?” Stiles asks, eyes widened in surprise.
“Well, yes, that’s it for the bond to solidify.”
“And then I’ll have to… I have no one to pass the bow to…” Derek says, the words coming slowly through gritted teeth, because they remind him of everything he’s lost.
“That’s not a necessity either,” Deaton tells him. “John gave up his because there was already a family with the Cupid legacy in Beacon Hills, and he wanted to be with Claudia. As you probably remember, your mother kept the bow even after her match. As did several others before her. The choice is ultimately yours, and if you do choose to give it up, we can search for a suitable candidate.”
“And the arrow…”
“Is yours until you choose to entrust it to your match,” Deaton says with a glance at Stiles. “The arrows and strings are a hint, not an obligation.”
In the silence that follows, Derek’s thoughts are screaming inside his head. And even though he only just met Stiles, he’s pretty sure that it won’t take too long before the arrow that’s humming quietly in the quiver on his side finds its way into Stiles’ firework-shooting hands.
But first, he thinks, maybe it’s time to be human and get to know him.
“So,” he starts, gathering all the courage he can muster, his eyes studying Stiles’ face. “Would you like to go see a movie?”
He chooses to ignore Deaton’s amused chuckle; Stiles’ enthusiastic nod is all that Derek needs.
Title: it's a choice
Rating: G
Pairing/s: pre-Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Alan Deaton
Summary: The touch is barely there, but Derek can feel it more clearly than anything else. His whole body is already attuned to Stiles’ and his arm turns without him meaning to, his hand slipping back into Stiles’.
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: Claudia's death mentioned, Hale family deaths referenced
Submission Type: ficlet
Word Count: 993
Prompt: #205 - amnesty week & #4 - scars
Author's Notes: It's finished! Okay, last part of the Cupid!Derek AU is now here. Previous parts: bowstring, string of fate, caught off guard, and hand in hand (in that order). Honestly, I didn't expect this to grow so much, so if you've been following, thank you! That said, this was so much fun to write ;)
He’s about to turn around and walk out of the room when he feels Stiles’ hand brush against his own. The touch is barely there, but Derek can feel it more clearly than anything else. His whole body is already attuned to Stiles’ and his arm turns without him meaning to, his hand slipping back into Stiles’.
“I didn’t think…” Stiles starts quietly, and his hold on Derek’s hand tightens. “Your family is from here, aren’t they?”
It’s the million dollar question, one that Derek was hoping to avoid while he was in Beacon Hills. When the bow first led him into town, he hoped that it was a one time visit, and that he could go back to pretending like Beacon Hills didn’t exist, even though he stayed nearby. He nods to answer Stiles’ question, but his eyes are turned to the floor.
“I didn’t realise that Laura…” the vet says, and he stops before he completes the part of the sentence that Derek can’t say out loud himself. “I’m sorry,” the man says instead.
“Did you know them?” Stiles asks, but the question isn’t directed at Derek.
“I did. And they knew me.”
“Deaton,” Derek says, the memory hitting him as the words reach his mind.
He looks up at the man, and thinks back on the times when his mother still had the bow that’s now on his back.
“You weren’t a vet then,” he adds. “Mom used to…”
“I stayed away from humans back then,” Deaton says. “With your family, and with Stiles’ mother, there was a lot to do, so I didn’t need to blend in.”
“Mom was a Spark too,” Stiles explains, though Derek doesn’t ask. “Deaton has been training me for the past few years.”
The ‘was’ doesn’t escape Derek’s notice, and he squeezes Stiles’ hand gently, to comfort him, to show him he understands.
“It makes sense, really, that this happened,” Deaton says, turning away to a bookshelf behind him. “It’s not the first time either.”
“What?” Stiles asks before Derek can, but the same question is on his mind.
“My Mom,” he says instead hesitantly, because he’s not sure if he wants to share the story with either Deaton or Stiles. “She used to tell me this tale about a Cupid and a Spark, and how they found each other. How the Cupid couldn’t find their own match and then it was someone with fireworks at their fingertips that finally fit.”
Stiles’ eyes are wide, and his lips part and then close several times.
“You said,” he says to Deaton, his voice carrying a tone of accusation. “You said that’s how you knew I was a Spark, and that her magic was…”
“...in her hands, yes,” Deaton finishes. “And I do believe that the tale Talia told Derek wasn’t fictional.”
“My parents?” Stiles asks. “My Dad?”
“Was Cupid, though not in Beacon Hills. He moved for Claudia, before you were born,” Deaton says, and he opens a book he pulled off the shelf. “He passed on the bow to someone, he never said who, when their bond was made.”
“It was my Mom’s favourite happy ending story,” Derek says quietly while Stiles stares at the open book.
“Not so happy, in the end,” Stiles whispers, and Derek remembers the past tense that Stiles used when talking about his mother.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Was it…?”
“Not magic. Well, not because of the bond,” Deaton tells him. “A magic mishap of a different kind. Her power was transferred to Stiles after.”
Finally, Stiles looks up and meets Derek’s eyes. His expression is a mix of surprise and sadness, with a bit of curiosity. He doesn’t say anything though, not before he turns to Deaton again.
“So, what about this bond,” he says, and he waves a hand between Derek and himself. “Is there going to be shooting involved? Because I’d rather not be shot at. Again. Also, there’s the whole question of consent. Does the bond mean that we have no choice? Like, are we stuck with each other? Not that I would really mind, I mean, dude,” Stiles turns to Derek as he says that. “You’re like, a twelve out of ten. But I’m sure you didn’t sign up for all this,” he points at himself.
“No, no shooting necessary,” Deaton says with a smile. “Derek, when he’s ready, if he’s ready, will just need to hand the arrow over to you.”
“That’s it?” Stiles asks, eyes widened in surprise.
“Well, yes, that’s it for the bond to solidify.”
“And then I’ll have to… I have no one to pass the bow to…” Derek says, the words coming slowly through gritted teeth, because they remind him of everything he’s lost.
“That’s not a necessity either,” Deaton tells him. “John gave up his because there was already a family with the Cupid legacy in Beacon Hills, and he wanted to be with Claudia. As you probably remember, your mother kept the bow even after her match. As did several others before her. The choice is ultimately yours, and if you do choose to give it up, we can search for a suitable candidate.”
“And the arrow…”
“Is yours until you choose to entrust it to your match,” Deaton says with a glance at Stiles. “The arrows and strings are a hint, not an obligation.”
In the silence that follows, Derek’s thoughts are screaming inside his head. And even though he only just met Stiles, he’s pretty sure that it won’t take too long before the arrow that’s humming quietly in the quiver on his side finds its way into Stiles’ firework-shooting hands.
But first, he thinks, maybe it’s time to be human and get to know him.
“So,” he starts, gathering all the courage he can muster, his eyes studying Stiles’ face. “Would you like to go see a movie?”
He chooses to ignore Deaton’s amused chuckle; Stiles’ enthusiastic nod is all that Derek needs.