ficlet: where you belong
Author: froggydarren
Title: where you belong
Rating: G
Pairing/s: implied future Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, original female character
Summary: Because of course it was a witch. Stiles should have known this from the mentions of herbal scents from everyone in the pack, from the static in the air whenever they were near this clearing and the rickety house in its corner.
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: witch spells
Submission Type: ficlet
Word Count: 885
Prompt: #232 - witch
Author's Notes: Unbetaed.
He’s falling backwards onto the leaf-covered ground, and everything feels like it’s going in slow motion. The only thought in his mind isn’t related to the impending collision of his body with the forest floor, but I should have seen this coming.
Because of course it was a witch. Stiles should have known this from the mentions of herbal scents from everyone in the pack, from the static in the air whenever they were near this clearing and the rickety house in its corner. He should have known from the way that the hairs stood up on the backs of his hands, and even just from the way all his senses - and the pack’s - were on high alert for the past few weeks.
Still, she caught him by surprise, managed to recite a full spell before he even registered that he wasn’t alone, and the impact of it threw him off balance.
When he lands with a soft thud and a louder gasp, she doesn’t approach like he’s expecting. He lifts his head, and she’s standing in the doorway of her shack, and then she speaks loudly into the forest’s silence.
“Stay away, little spark, there’s nothing for you to see here. Maybe the spell will remind you where you belong.”
Stiles frowns at the words, and he almost expects to be teleported somewhere that she deems suitable. Instead, there’s a loud bang - the door of the shack slamming closed - and he’s left alone, listening to the wind pick up again between the leaves and hesitant chirps from birds in the distance.
When he tries to move, nothing seems wrong. At least nothing major, besides the ache caused by his fall. But there are no injuries, no damage that would stop his movement. So he gets up off the ground and decides to try and talk to her. But the first step he does take is not towards the shack.
“What the hell?”
He tries again, but his legs move away from the witch, and towards the path that he used to get here. Two tries later, he decides that it’s probably safer not to fight it, especially since he’s on his own, and he turns to the path. Walking seems easy when he’s heading that direction.
Almost too easy.
He sped up enough that it could be considered a jog when his brain catches on and Stiles stops in his tracks. Because if there’s one thing he knows, it’s that he doesn’t jog. Or run. Not unless there’s something significantly dangerous chasing him. He knows this because the entire pack has - each of them at least once - been complaining about his refusal to get the hell out of dodge for years. Whether said dodge he was supposed to get out of was just the ongoing danger or the town itself, Stiles could never quite figure out with them. All he knows is that he isn’t going anywhere, not while his dad and his friends are likely to be in danger.
Which is why he went to look for the recent source of malice by himself. The werewolves seemed unable to go too close to the clearing he’d just stumbled out of, and Lydia and Allison followed their lead and didn’t go out there without reinforcements. Only Stiles was the one who wouldn’t back down.
Not that he asked for anyone’s permission - he is pretty sure that someone would know where he was if he doesn’t show up at the pack meeting scheduled for later that day - since he knew they’d stop him.
As he slows down to a walk again, he notices that there is a pull he feels inside his chest, which was what stopped him from heading towards the shack and the witch earlier. It’s like there’s a hook inside, and a string tugging on him to move faster, to keep going, to not stop until he gets to where he’s supposed to be.
So he does, though as he walks he mutters to himself about interfering and stupid witches and evil magic that he can’t fight… yet.
“I’ll figure it out and I’ll find you,” he grumbles.
At some point, he starts trying to find out where he’s going. He’s definitely going back into town, but he soon realises that it’s not back towards his Jeep. There’s not much he can see ahead of him though, but it doesn’t stop his mind from spinning as he still tries to think of where he’s heading.
Then there’s a little break in the shrubbery, and he walks out into a clearing. The moment he takes in the space and the light, he knows.
Because he’s at the Hale house, the wreckage of which is almost completely torn down now, with new materials stacked in neat piles several paces away. Across the clearing is a familiar black car, driver side door open.
“Hey Stiles,” Derek calls out when he walks out from behind the remnants of the house. “What brings you here?”
Where you belong.
Stiles remembers what the witch said before she left him alone, and it suddenly all makes sense. He curses under his breath, but realises that the pull he felt all the way here is gone. He’s right where he should be.
Title: where you belong
Rating: G
Pairing/s: implied future Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, original female character
Summary: Because of course it was a witch. Stiles should have known this from the mentions of herbal scents from everyone in the pack, from the static in the air whenever they were near this clearing and the rickety house in its corner.
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: witch spells
Submission Type: ficlet
Word Count: 885
Prompt: #232 - witch
Author's Notes: Unbetaed.
He’s falling backwards onto the leaf-covered ground, and everything feels like it’s going in slow motion. The only thought in his mind isn’t related to the impending collision of his body with the forest floor, but I should have seen this coming.
Because of course it was a witch. Stiles should have known this from the mentions of herbal scents from everyone in the pack, from the static in the air whenever they were near this clearing and the rickety house in its corner. He should have known from the way that the hairs stood up on the backs of his hands, and even just from the way all his senses - and the pack’s - were on high alert for the past few weeks.
Still, she caught him by surprise, managed to recite a full spell before he even registered that he wasn’t alone, and the impact of it threw him off balance.
When he lands with a soft thud and a louder gasp, she doesn’t approach like he’s expecting. He lifts his head, and she’s standing in the doorway of her shack, and then she speaks loudly into the forest’s silence.
“Stay away, little spark, there’s nothing for you to see here. Maybe the spell will remind you where you belong.”
Stiles frowns at the words, and he almost expects to be teleported somewhere that she deems suitable. Instead, there’s a loud bang - the door of the shack slamming closed - and he’s left alone, listening to the wind pick up again between the leaves and hesitant chirps from birds in the distance.
When he tries to move, nothing seems wrong. At least nothing major, besides the ache caused by his fall. But there are no injuries, no damage that would stop his movement. So he gets up off the ground and decides to try and talk to her. But the first step he does take is not towards the shack.
“What the hell?”
He tries again, but his legs move away from the witch, and towards the path that he used to get here. Two tries later, he decides that it’s probably safer not to fight it, especially since he’s on his own, and he turns to the path. Walking seems easy when he’s heading that direction.
Almost too easy.
He sped up enough that it could be considered a jog when his brain catches on and Stiles stops in his tracks. Because if there’s one thing he knows, it’s that he doesn’t jog. Or run. Not unless there’s something significantly dangerous chasing him. He knows this because the entire pack has - each of them at least once - been complaining about his refusal to get the hell out of dodge for years. Whether said dodge he was supposed to get out of was just the ongoing danger or the town itself, Stiles could never quite figure out with them. All he knows is that he isn’t going anywhere, not while his dad and his friends are likely to be in danger.
Which is why he went to look for the recent source of malice by himself. The werewolves seemed unable to go too close to the clearing he’d just stumbled out of, and Lydia and Allison followed their lead and didn’t go out there without reinforcements. Only Stiles was the one who wouldn’t back down.
Not that he asked for anyone’s permission - he is pretty sure that someone would know where he was if he doesn’t show up at the pack meeting scheduled for later that day - since he knew they’d stop him.
As he slows down to a walk again, he notices that there is a pull he feels inside his chest, which was what stopped him from heading towards the shack and the witch earlier. It’s like there’s a hook inside, and a string tugging on him to move faster, to keep going, to not stop until he gets to where he’s supposed to be.
So he does, though as he walks he mutters to himself about interfering and stupid witches and evil magic that he can’t fight… yet.
“I’ll figure it out and I’ll find you,” he grumbles.
At some point, he starts trying to find out where he’s going. He’s definitely going back into town, but he soon realises that it’s not back towards his Jeep. There’s not much he can see ahead of him though, but it doesn’t stop his mind from spinning as he still tries to think of where he’s heading.
Then there’s a little break in the shrubbery, and he walks out into a clearing. The moment he takes in the space and the light, he knows.
Because he’s at the Hale house, the wreckage of which is almost completely torn down now, with new materials stacked in neat piles several paces away. Across the clearing is a familiar black car, driver side door open.
“Hey Stiles,” Derek calls out when he walks out from behind the remnants of the house. “What brings you here?”
Where you belong.
Stiles remembers what the witch said before she left him alone, and it suddenly all makes sense. He curses under his breath, but realises that the pull he felt all the way here is gone. He’s right where he should be.