Fic: I Want You Under My Skin (1/2) (Teen Wolf, Stiles/Derek)
Title: I Want You Under My Skin (Part 1/2)
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV Series) / The Sentinel (TV Series)
Characters: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: Stiles is a Guide who looks after catatonic or feral Sentinels. One day a grief-stricken near-feral Derek is brought in and Stiles realizes that he's found his Sentinel. Now they've just got to get Derek out of his own head and able to bond.
Author Notes: A fushion fic of two worlds. Nobody's a werewolf here, they're either a Sentinel or Guide. No previous knowledge of The Sentinel is required, though it is an awesome show & the fics for it are amazing. Also, yes, a sequel is currently in the works. Enjoy :)
The alarm was definitely too loud. Stiles grumbled under his breath, slapped the alarm silent, but then forced himself out of bed. Kelly would literally kill him if he was late. She'd been holding a taser when she'd made that threat and had been making crazy-eyes at him and she totally knew how to dispose of his body, so Stiles was definitely going to turn up on time. Kelly had just worked a week's worth of shifts for him while he took time out to spend with his Dad, so he did owe her. Maybe she'd accept a breakfast muffin as a thank-you? Two breakfast muffins?
So it was off to another day's work at the Sentinel Recovery Center. Stiles untwisted the cord that his ID hung from and looped it around his neck. Okay, he had missed working there over the past few days, but his Dad had needed him. He always did during the anniversary of Mom's death.
Years later and his Dad still looked lost. Like Stiles, he was a Guide and he had lost the Sentinel he'd been bonded to. Stiles' Mom had been so strong and awesome. But even her Sentinel body hadn't been able to recover from the horrific car accident that she’d been in. It might be able to in the future, since she'd asked for it to be donated to the medical cause. That was kind of awesome.
His Dad would always feel lost. He was a Guide without his Sentinel. Stiles did what he could - he made sure that his Dad ate right and exercised and lived - but while his Dad still smiled, he wasn't all there anymore. Part of him had died with his Sentinel.
Stiles let out a shaky breath and then shoved his feet into his sneakers. He was going to work at the Center and he was going to be as awesome as his Mom. She'd always thought it was important to help the Sentinels who went feral or zoned-out into a coma.
Everybody can be reached, baby she'd told him, after watching a news report claiming that keeping such centers open was a waste of money and Guides. Every Guide can help. Don't ever forget that.
He hadn't. And now that Scott had found his Guide - he and Allison were currently very much enjoying establishing their bond, basically a lot of amazing sex - and college was out for the summer, Stiles had a lot of free time on his hands. So the Center it was. At least there he got some sense of accomplishment and he got a paycheck, and felt a little closer to his Mom. It was kind of everything rolled into one. Convenient. Convenient was good.
Downstairs, the kitchen was empty. His Dad had an early shift. Stiles slotted Pop Tarts into the toaster and grabbed fruit juice out of the fridge. He flicked the radio on for a moment, only a moment because immediately a voice piped up with all these Guides spending precious time with comatose Sentinels, when they could be bonding with highly-functioning essential Sentinels who are out in the field and need Guides more than ever. It's a shame that-
Yeah, that was enough of that. Stiles bit into a Pop Tart viciously. Whoever thought Guides were wasting their time by trying to reach out-of-control Sentinels was fucking crazy. Was it dangerous work? Yes. But Stiles had been there when a feral Sentinel had been drawn out of a frenzy and had afterward enjoyed a stable bond with the Guide who'd led him back into the world. He'd seen comatose Sentinels brought back to life. Yes, there were people who'd been in the center for years, maybe their Guide, their true bond, would never turn up. But they might and until then, Guides like Stiles could make them comfortable and soothed. There was nothing wrong with that at all. It was completely right.
Downing his juice, Stiles checked he had his uniform packed, grabbed his Jeep keys, and made for work. The anger was still there under his skin, making him clench the steering wheel. The Sentinels out there in the military, in the police force, were important and of course they needed their Guides for their highly-stressful work. But every Sentinel needed a Guide, especially the ones who'd lost their way. It was simply biology. It was common sense.
His Mom had felt the same way. Like every Sentinel in the world, she’d been gifted with superior strength and speed. And like all Sentinels, she'd also had such keenly powerful senses that she’d needed a Guide to truly survive and thrive - somebody to help her deal with a noisy scratchy world that would hurt her every moment of every day unless a Guide was there to soothe the way for her. Sentinels were prone to ‘zone outs’ - getting so fixated on the smallest detail like the feel of a pair of shoes or the sound of a trickle of water that they literally shut down, becoming completely non-responsive until a Guide helped them out of it. A bonded Sentinel was less likely to suffer that. A bonded Sentinel was more powerful thanks to their Guide’s presence and guidance. For every Sentinel, there was a Guide. It was just a case of finding them, which too-often didn't happen. But every Sentinel deserved a Guide, and vice versa.
And that was where Stiles came in. Maybe he wouldn’t ever meet his Sentinel - he’d thought for a while that it was Lydia because he'd felt so crazy about her but she’d never seen him as more than a friend and had recently left for college. Beacon Hills wasn’t big enough for her. If she’d been the one, she wouldn’t have wanted to leave. Scott was completed obsessed with his Guide. What would that be like? To be the center of somebody’s world?
Stiles shook his head and parked the Jeep. He had to get into work before Kelly started sharpening the kitchen knives. She liked doing that when she wanted to make him uncomfortable. Stiles was grabbing his bag and making for the Center’s doors when he felt it. A slight internal tug, getting stronger the closer he got to the Center. Somebody in there was connecting with him. Stiles felt a pull to comfort and help every Sentinel he met, it was part of being a Guide, but this was way stronger. Stiles dropped his backpack in shock. A Sentinel in there was calling to him more powerfully than any ever had before. Was it his….?
Nadia burst through the front doors, with wild eyes and curling brown hair flying. Her face lit up when she almost ran into Stiles.
“Stiles! Thank God, are you….?”
“Feeling an overwhelming urge to go in there and curl up with a Sentinel?” Stiles unevenly let the words out in a rush, frantic to tell somebody who’d understand. “Yeah, I think I am.”
Nadia looked relieved and shoved a folder into his hands. “Okay, good. He came in last week. He….”
“Wait, wait.” Stiles waved his hands, feeling flustered and very overwhelmed. This was really happening. Here? “I need to, I don’t know. My Sentinel’s in there. My Sentinel. I’m actually getting to meet him. Him. It’s a him.”
Nadia smiled and squeezed his arm. She’d had her wrist tattoo touched up. It looked good. “He’s not zoned-out into a coma. Troopers found him wandering the highway. He hadn’t said anything until today. He was just…..vacant. Until now.”
Until he’d sensed Stiles nearby, until he’d sensed his Guide. Stiles was his Guide. Stiles let Nadia lead him into the building and looked dumbly down at the folder. His Sentinel’s details were in there. His Sentinel. Stiles took a quick breath and flipped the folder open. His Sentinel was called Derek Hale. He was twenty-four, reasonably healthy, and had no living family. He worked as a mechanic and only had joy riding and speeding tickets on his criminal record and wow, he was a level 4 Sentinel. So four of his senses were super charged and the other one was still pretty highly ranked. A Sentinel that powerful had connected with Stiles. Stiles would say that it had to be a mistake, but he could feel the growing need and pull inside of him getting stronger. Biology didn’t lie.
Nadia stopped him before they entered another corridor, took the folder off him, and dumped his bag that she’d remembered to pick up into his arms. She was wearing her serious expression. Oh God. What if Derek had a really terrible prognosis? Stiles had always wondered how he’d feel if his Sentinel turned out to be one of his patients. Of course he’d be devoted to whoever it was and take care of them. But what if he wasn’t enough? Surely any decent Guide should be able to retrieve their Sentinel from whatever place their overtaxed mind had locked them into? What if he couldn't?
He’d talked to his Mom about that once, convinced that he wouldn’t be enough for anybody. She’d hugged him and said that it didn’t work that way. That the Sentinel he’d be drawn to would be the right one for him. And that even if it didn’t seem like a good match on the surface, he should know better than to settle for first impressions. Every bonded pair found life difficult sometimes. That was the nature of being a Sentinel and a Guide. But the rewards were worth it. She’d smiled at her husband when she’d said that.
“Stiles!” Nadia shook his shoulder and Stiles quickly snapped out of his thoughts. Whoops. “You need to hear this.”
Right. Okay, here was the bad news. Stiles steeled himself and nodded. He could deal with this. He would, for his Sentinel.
“Derek hasn’t got any living family. They were almost all killed in a house fire over ten years ago. His sister Laura was killed by their uncle, a Sentinel who’d gone completely feral. That happened last year.”
Stiles felt sick. His Sentinel had lost his entire family. The pain that Derek must be in all the time……No wonder he’d ended up here. “And that’s what triggered his fugue state.”
Nadia nodded. “Like I said, he’s not comatose. He’s awake. He’d just….given up, checked out. Then he sensed you.”
Stiles flushed. Derek had sensed him and had started fighting. Nadia was telling him that his Sentinel, who’d been out of it since he’d been brought in, had likely given up on life after the horrible losses that he’d suffered, had sparked into action when he’d sensed his Guide close by. Wow. That was a powerful brand of fighting spirit.
“He’s restrained. Just the arms. He tried to fight his way out of the building. So we’ve put him in one of the en-suites.”
En-suites were for pairs who were going to bond. Okay, that was likely to be in his future. But it was going to be a long process. Stiles sucked in a breath, feeling his heart hammer quickly. There was a Sentinel in there desperate for his body and Stiles had to work on clearing the Sentinel’s mind first. He had to build something between them before the restraints came off if he wanted this to work. He could do this. More importantly, he wanted to do this. Because it was his Sentinel.
“You need to wash up and change into your scrubs,” Nadia reminded him. “And don’t forget your panic button.”
Stiles nodded jerkily and headed for the staff bathroom. He needed to wash because he smelled of the outside world and of any Sentinels he'd been near recently and his Sentinel would hate that. Stiles was already used to wearing scent-free products so that the Sentinels he worked with weren’t jarred by his presence. And he had his panic button with him always because feral Sentinels who met their Guides would more often than not work on their first instinct - to mate with their Guide as soon as possible. Stiles shivered and ducked under a warm shower. He was not opposed to mating, he was seventeen for Christ’s sake, but he definitely wanted his Sentinel in his right mind first. Some pairings weren’t sexual, but they weren’t as tightly or as powerfully bonded.
Washed and dressed in scrubs, Stiles took a deep breath of the steamed air and headed out into the corridor again. Nadia waited by a door. His Sentinel’s door.
“I’ll call your Dad.”
Right. Because now his Sentinel had sensed him, he’d want Stiles with him and if Stiles wasn’t there, Derek would do harm to himself or others to get to his Guide. So Stiles would be staying here for the foreseeable future.
“Could you please emphasize that I am not bonding with a murderer and that the worst thing on Derek’s record is joy riding? And please ask Kelly not to kill me? This totally isn't my fault.”
Nadia laughed. “You’ve got it. Remember, anything feels wrong, you hit your button and you book out of there.”
“Got it.”
Nadia smiled softly at him. She was bonded to one of the center's doctors. Stiles had known her since before his Mom’s death. Nadia got why he was a little nervous. He was about to meet his Sentinel.
Before he could think about it too much or before Nadia could shove him in, he pushed the door open and walked through the doorway. The room was expectantly sparse. It was painted warm soothing colors and the lights were low so that they didn’t hurt the Sentinel’s highly sensitive eyesight. The white noise generator was on, to keep out all noises to protect the Sentinel’s hearing. The Sentinel was lying on a large bed, his arms heavily restrained at the wrists. And woah…..Stiles’ eyes widened. His Sentinel was smoking hot.
Derek Hale was dark-haired with a ripped body and intense green eyes that were currently pinned hungrily on Stiles. He was shirtless, revealing several large and nasty-looking scars. Stiles winced; had Derek done that to himself in his grief fugue? Or maybe he’d been challenged by another Sentinel. Sentinels were notoriously territorial, particularly when it came to anybody approaching their Guide.
Stiles slowly walked towards the bed. Surprisingly Derek was completely still, except for how his chest moved as his breaths panted out hot. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He wasn’t quite feral, but he was definitely desperate and raw - no wonder, considering what he’d been through. Had he been in contact with any Guides since his sister’s death? If he’d received no Guide help at all, it was no wonder that his mind had shut down and was now clawing suddenly back to frenzied life at the abrupt presence of his Guide. He looked at Stiles with frayed longing. Stiles swallowed and pushed down the urge to crawl on top of his Sentinel and just let him have everything right now. Derek needed carefully-paced help and Stiles was not going to screw it up for his Sentinel, not even with Derek looking at him like that. God, nobody had ever looked at Stiles like that before.
Stiles cleared his throat and pitched his voice low so that it wouldn’t hurt the Sentinel. “Hey there, I’m Stiles and I’ll be your regularly scheduled Guide for…….well, forever, I guess.”
He chuckled a little at the absurdity of it all, at actually finding his Sentinel, at his Sentinel looking like something out of Stiles’ wet dreams. Derek made a noise in his throat, an encouraging growly noise that made Stiles’ stomach feel hot and scrambled. Wow, okay, so that was a thing. He inched closer and carefully placed his bare hand on top of one of Derek’s. Derek’s pupils dilated and he strained against the heavy-duty straps that kept him buckled to the bed. Geez. Stiles had done that to him.
“Here’s the thing, I would love to be part of what you’re clearly intending to do to me, but we’re going to have to literally keep the brakes on until you get some control back. I don’t know how long it’ll take but….” Stiles swallowed, thinking about some of the long-term occupants the Center housed. They'd been here for years. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”
Derek growled again and tugged uselessly at the restraints. Stiles stroked his hand.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. You should have seen the guy we had in from Miami last year. Huge, built like the Hulk. We had these restraints designed especially for him and they kept him here just fine. So you’re not going anywhere until you chill out.”
Derek did not look pleased. Stiles grinned, keeping his hand where it was. God, he already felt fond and attached. The bond was starting to work its magic, though it wouldn’t really take root until the Sentinel got a chance to learn Stiles’ smell, taste, and many other awesome things. Hopefully it would involve a lot of sex.
Derek was watching him. Stiles’s breath hitched but determinedly, he began to move his hand up Derek’s arm, giving Derek his touch, showing that he wanted Derek to learn that part of him. He really wanted that. His Mom had been right about the attraction to his Sentinel, it really did feel like nothing else. No wonder his Dad was so bereft.
Stiles’ hand reached Derek’s face. Stiles stroked against the stubble there, enjoying the texture, before his thumb swept Derek’s cheekbones. Then he carefully drew his hand to Derek’s mouth, everything about the movement saying I want to trust you, don’t let me down. It was like dealing with a wild animal, because right now Derek was more Sentinel animal-instinct than anything else.
Derek pressed his lips needily to Stiles’ palm and fingers, then explored with his tongue. He looked blissed-out, drunk on the taste of Stiles. Stiles’ lips parted, letting out a hungry little sound of his own. That felt incredible. Derek was practically touch starved, he was so eager for Stiles’ hands on him. Any Sentinel meeting their Guide for the first time would react that way to some extent, but Derek was definitely more on the edge than most. His experience had damaged him deeply. Stiles wanted to tear open his skin and do something, anything, to make his Sentinel feel better. His Guide instincts had kicked into high gear. Speaking of which…..
“Derek,” Stiles’ voice was still beguilingly low but it got Derek’s attention. “We need to dial down your senses. Right now they’re so high, so sensitive, that everything around you feels really crappy, right? So……”
Had Derek had any Sentinel training? His family must have known how to handle him and what help he’d need since his uncle had been a Sentinel too. Stiles felt bile rising up his throat. Unless the uncle had taught Derek how to handle his super senses. No wonder Derek was spiking right now. He probably didn’t want to use any of the teachings that his uncle had passed on, not after what had happened. Okay, so what metaphor could Stiles use to encourage Derek’s battered mind to grasp onto the idea? Derek clearly liked cars - he'd worked with them and all the marks on his criminal record led back to a love of fast driving. Stiles could use that.
He gently cupped Derek’s jaw. “This probably won’t work the first time, but we’re going to keep trying, okay? So imagine in your head the speedometer from your car’s dashboard, imagine one for each of your five senses. Right now, those dials are all up way too high and you need them to get lower. One is labeled ‘Sight’. I want you to focus on that one. Ease your foot off the gas and let the needle slip down, okay? How about down from 100 to 60, then from 60 to 40.”
Derek’s eyes were still trained on Stiles but he seemed to begin to relax. Stiles kept talking him through the dials. He could feel Derek's tension easing but he wouldn’t know how effective his tutoring was until Derek started talking again. At least the Sentinel looked calmer, though Stiles had a feeling that Derek probably always had some level of wildness thrumming under his skin. It had likely gotten worse after his family’s deaths.
He talked and stroked until Derek looked almost asleep. He still gripped hard when Stiles tried to pull away from him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Stiles reassured him and gestured to the cot bed next to Derek. “See? I’ll be right here.”
Derek grunted, still irritable about Stiles letting go. Stiles would have liked nothing better than to curl up with Derek but that had to wait. Ironically, a Sentinel would usually be the one seen taking the lead in the relationship, as they had their Guide’s safety as their number one priority. Upon first meeting their Guide, they would roam the Guide's body, learning every part of them and taking several sweaty and vigorous days to truly cement the bond. But Stiles had seen that the best bonded relationships were the ones where the Sentinel and Guide were equals, taking turns to lead, and caring about each other with the same fervent desire. Stiles stared down at Derek’s fantastically yearning expression. God, he hoped that this was one of those.
Part 2
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV Series) / The Sentinel (TV Series)
Characters: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: Stiles is a Guide who looks after catatonic or feral Sentinels. One day a grief-stricken near-feral Derek is brought in and Stiles realizes that he's found his Sentinel. Now they've just got to get Derek out of his own head and able to bond.
Author Notes: A fushion fic of two worlds. Nobody's a werewolf here, they're either a Sentinel or Guide. No previous knowledge of The Sentinel is required, though it is an awesome show & the fics for it are amazing. Also, yes, a sequel is currently in the works. Enjoy :)
The alarm was definitely too loud. Stiles grumbled under his breath, slapped the alarm silent, but then forced himself out of bed. Kelly would literally kill him if he was late. She'd been holding a taser when she'd made that threat and had been making crazy-eyes at him and she totally knew how to dispose of his body, so Stiles was definitely going to turn up on time. Kelly had just worked a week's worth of shifts for him while he took time out to spend with his Dad, so he did owe her. Maybe she'd accept a breakfast muffin as a thank-you? Two breakfast muffins?
So it was off to another day's work at the Sentinel Recovery Center. Stiles untwisted the cord that his ID hung from and looped it around his neck. Okay, he had missed working there over the past few days, but his Dad had needed him. He always did during the anniversary of Mom's death.
Years later and his Dad still looked lost. Like Stiles, he was a Guide and he had lost the Sentinel he'd been bonded to. Stiles' Mom had been so strong and awesome. But even her Sentinel body hadn't been able to recover from the horrific car accident that she’d been in. It might be able to in the future, since she'd asked for it to be donated to the medical cause. That was kind of awesome.
His Dad would always feel lost. He was a Guide without his Sentinel. Stiles did what he could - he made sure that his Dad ate right and exercised and lived - but while his Dad still smiled, he wasn't all there anymore. Part of him had died with his Sentinel.
Stiles let out a shaky breath and then shoved his feet into his sneakers. He was going to work at the Center and he was going to be as awesome as his Mom. She'd always thought it was important to help the Sentinels who went feral or zoned-out into a coma.
Everybody can be reached, baby she'd told him, after watching a news report claiming that keeping such centers open was a waste of money and Guides. Every Guide can help. Don't ever forget that.
He hadn't. And now that Scott had found his Guide - he and Allison were currently very much enjoying establishing their bond, basically a lot of amazing sex - and college was out for the summer, Stiles had a lot of free time on his hands. So the Center it was. At least there he got some sense of accomplishment and he got a paycheck, and felt a little closer to his Mom. It was kind of everything rolled into one. Convenient. Convenient was good.
Downstairs, the kitchen was empty. His Dad had an early shift. Stiles slotted Pop Tarts into the toaster and grabbed fruit juice out of the fridge. He flicked the radio on for a moment, only a moment because immediately a voice piped up with all these Guides spending precious time with comatose Sentinels, when they could be bonding with highly-functioning essential Sentinels who are out in the field and need Guides more than ever. It's a shame that-
Yeah, that was enough of that. Stiles bit into a Pop Tart viciously. Whoever thought Guides were wasting their time by trying to reach out-of-control Sentinels was fucking crazy. Was it dangerous work? Yes. But Stiles had been there when a feral Sentinel had been drawn out of a frenzy and had afterward enjoyed a stable bond with the Guide who'd led him back into the world. He'd seen comatose Sentinels brought back to life. Yes, there were people who'd been in the center for years, maybe their Guide, their true bond, would never turn up. But they might and until then, Guides like Stiles could make them comfortable and soothed. There was nothing wrong with that at all. It was completely right.
Downing his juice, Stiles checked he had his uniform packed, grabbed his Jeep keys, and made for work. The anger was still there under his skin, making him clench the steering wheel. The Sentinels out there in the military, in the police force, were important and of course they needed their Guides for their highly-stressful work. But every Sentinel needed a Guide, especially the ones who'd lost their way. It was simply biology. It was common sense.
His Mom had felt the same way. Like every Sentinel in the world, she’d been gifted with superior strength and speed. And like all Sentinels, she'd also had such keenly powerful senses that she’d needed a Guide to truly survive and thrive - somebody to help her deal with a noisy scratchy world that would hurt her every moment of every day unless a Guide was there to soothe the way for her. Sentinels were prone to ‘zone outs’ - getting so fixated on the smallest detail like the feel of a pair of shoes or the sound of a trickle of water that they literally shut down, becoming completely non-responsive until a Guide helped them out of it. A bonded Sentinel was less likely to suffer that. A bonded Sentinel was more powerful thanks to their Guide’s presence and guidance. For every Sentinel, there was a Guide. It was just a case of finding them, which too-often didn't happen. But every Sentinel deserved a Guide, and vice versa.
And that was where Stiles came in. Maybe he wouldn’t ever meet his Sentinel - he’d thought for a while that it was Lydia because he'd felt so crazy about her but she’d never seen him as more than a friend and had recently left for college. Beacon Hills wasn’t big enough for her. If she’d been the one, she wouldn’t have wanted to leave. Scott was completed obsessed with his Guide. What would that be like? To be the center of somebody’s world?
Stiles shook his head and parked the Jeep. He had to get into work before Kelly started sharpening the kitchen knives. She liked doing that when she wanted to make him uncomfortable. Stiles was grabbing his bag and making for the Center’s doors when he felt it. A slight internal tug, getting stronger the closer he got to the Center. Somebody in there was connecting with him. Stiles felt a pull to comfort and help every Sentinel he met, it was part of being a Guide, but this was way stronger. Stiles dropped his backpack in shock. A Sentinel in there was calling to him more powerfully than any ever had before. Was it his….?
Nadia burst through the front doors, with wild eyes and curling brown hair flying. Her face lit up when she almost ran into Stiles.
“Stiles! Thank God, are you….?”
“Feeling an overwhelming urge to go in there and curl up with a Sentinel?” Stiles unevenly let the words out in a rush, frantic to tell somebody who’d understand. “Yeah, I think I am.”
Nadia looked relieved and shoved a folder into his hands. “Okay, good. He came in last week. He….”
“Wait, wait.” Stiles waved his hands, feeling flustered and very overwhelmed. This was really happening. Here? “I need to, I don’t know. My Sentinel’s in there. My Sentinel. I’m actually getting to meet him. Him. It’s a him.”
Nadia smiled and squeezed his arm. She’d had her wrist tattoo touched up. It looked good. “He’s not zoned-out into a coma. Troopers found him wandering the highway. He hadn’t said anything until today. He was just…..vacant. Until now.”
Until he’d sensed Stiles nearby, until he’d sensed his Guide. Stiles was his Guide. Stiles let Nadia lead him into the building and looked dumbly down at the folder. His Sentinel’s details were in there. His Sentinel. Stiles took a quick breath and flipped the folder open. His Sentinel was called Derek Hale. He was twenty-four, reasonably healthy, and had no living family. He worked as a mechanic and only had joy riding and speeding tickets on his criminal record and wow, he was a level 4 Sentinel. So four of his senses were super charged and the other one was still pretty highly ranked. A Sentinel that powerful had connected with Stiles. Stiles would say that it had to be a mistake, but he could feel the growing need and pull inside of him getting stronger. Biology didn’t lie.
Nadia stopped him before they entered another corridor, took the folder off him, and dumped his bag that she’d remembered to pick up into his arms. She was wearing her serious expression. Oh God. What if Derek had a really terrible prognosis? Stiles had always wondered how he’d feel if his Sentinel turned out to be one of his patients. Of course he’d be devoted to whoever it was and take care of them. But what if he wasn’t enough? Surely any decent Guide should be able to retrieve their Sentinel from whatever place their overtaxed mind had locked them into? What if he couldn't?
He’d talked to his Mom about that once, convinced that he wouldn’t be enough for anybody. She’d hugged him and said that it didn’t work that way. That the Sentinel he’d be drawn to would be the right one for him. And that even if it didn’t seem like a good match on the surface, he should know better than to settle for first impressions. Every bonded pair found life difficult sometimes. That was the nature of being a Sentinel and a Guide. But the rewards were worth it. She’d smiled at her husband when she’d said that.
“Stiles!” Nadia shook his shoulder and Stiles quickly snapped out of his thoughts. Whoops. “You need to hear this.”
Right. Okay, here was the bad news. Stiles steeled himself and nodded. He could deal with this. He would, for his Sentinel.
“Derek hasn’t got any living family. They were almost all killed in a house fire over ten years ago. His sister Laura was killed by their uncle, a Sentinel who’d gone completely feral. That happened last year.”
Stiles felt sick. His Sentinel had lost his entire family. The pain that Derek must be in all the time……No wonder he’d ended up here. “And that’s what triggered his fugue state.”
Nadia nodded. “Like I said, he’s not comatose. He’s awake. He’d just….given up, checked out. Then he sensed you.”
Stiles flushed. Derek had sensed him and had started fighting. Nadia was telling him that his Sentinel, who’d been out of it since he’d been brought in, had likely given up on life after the horrible losses that he’d suffered, had sparked into action when he’d sensed his Guide close by. Wow. That was a powerful brand of fighting spirit.
“He’s restrained. Just the arms. He tried to fight his way out of the building. So we’ve put him in one of the en-suites.”
En-suites were for pairs who were going to bond. Okay, that was likely to be in his future. But it was going to be a long process. Stiles sucked in a breath, feeling his heart hammer quickly. There was a Sentinel in there desperate for his body and Stiles had to work on clearing the Sentinel’s mind first. He had to build something between them before the restraints came off if he wanted this to work. He could do this. More importantly, he wanted to do this. Because it was his Sentinel.
“You need to wash up and change into your scrubs,” Nadia reminded him. “And don’t forget your panic button.”
Stiles nodded jerkily and headed for the staff bathroom. He needed to wash because he smelled of the outside world and of any Sentinels he'd been near recently and his Sentinel would hate that. Stiles was already used to wearing scent-free products so that the Sentinels he worked with weren’t jarred by his presence. And he had his panic button with him always because feral Sentinels who met their Guides would more often than not work on their first instinct - to mate with their Guide as soon as possible. Stiles shivered and ducked under a warm shower. He was not opposed to mating, he was seventeen for Christ’s sake, but he definitely wanted his Sentinel in his right mind first. Some pairings weren’t sexual, but they weren’t as tightly or as powerfully bonded.
Washed and dressed in scrubs, Stiles took a deep breath of the steamed air and headed out into the corridor again. Nadia waited by a door. His Sentinel’s door.
“I’ll call your Dad.”
Right. Because now his Sentinel had sensed him, he’d want Stiles with him and if Stiles wasn’t there, Derek would do harm to himself or others to get to his Guide. So Stiles would be staying here for the foreseeable future.
“Could you please emphasize that I am not bonding with a murderer and that the worst thing on Derek’s record is joy riding? And please ask Kelly not to kill me? This totally isn't my fault.”
Nadia laughed. “You’ve got it. Remember, anything feels wrong, you hit your button and you book out of there.”
“Got it.”
Nadia smiled softly at him. She was bonded to one of the center's doctors. Stiles had known her since before his Mom’s death. Nadia got why he was a little nervous. He was about to meet his Sentinel.
Before he could think about it too much or before Nadia could shove him in, he pushed the door open and walked through the doorway. The room was expectantly sparse. It was painted warm soothing colors and the lights were low so that they didn’t hurt the Sentinel’s highly sensitive eyesight. The white noise generator was on, to keep out all noises to protect the Sentinel’s hearing. The Sentinel was lying on a large bed, his arms heavily restrained at the wrists. And woah…..Stiles’ eyes widened. His Sentinel was smoking hot.
Derek Hale was dark-haired with a ripped body and intense green eyes that were currently pinned hungrily on Stiles. He was shirtless, revealing several large and nasty-looking scars. Stiles winced; had Derek done that to himself in his grief fugue? Or maybe he’d been challenged by another Sentinel. Sentinels were notoriously territorial, particularly when it came to anybody approaching their Guide.
Stiles slowly walked towards the bed. Surprisingly Derek was completely still, except for how his chest moved as his breaths panted out hot. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He wasn’t quite feral, but he was definitely desperate and raw - no wonder, considering what he’d been through. Had he been in contact with any Guides since his sister’s death? If he’d received no Guide help at all, it was no wonder that his mind had shut down and was now clawing suddenly back to frenzied life at the abrupt presence of his Guide. He looked at Stiles with frayed longing. Stiles swallowed and pushed down the urge to crawl on top of his Sentinel and just let him have everything right now. Derek needed carefully-paced help and Stiles was not going to screw it up for his Sentinel, not even with Derek looking at him like that. God, nobody had ever looked at Stiles like that before.
Stiles cleared his throat and pitched his voice low so that it wouldn’t hurt the Sentinel. “Hey there, I’m Stiles and I’ll be your regularly scheduled Guide for…….well, forever, I guess.”
He chuckled a little at the absurdity of it all, at actually finding his Sentinel, at his Sentinel looking like something out of Stiles’ wet dreams. Derek made a noise in his throat, an encouraging growly noise that made Stiles’ stomach feel hot and scrambled. Wow, okay, so that was a thing. He inched closer and carefully placed his bare hand on top of one of Derek’s. Derek’s pupils dilated and he strained against the heavy-duty straps that kept him buckled to the bed. Geez. Stiles had done that to him.
“Here’s the thing, I would love to be part of what you’re clearly intending to do to me, but we’re going to have to literally keep the brakes on until you get some control back. I don’t know how long it’ll take but….” Stiles swallowed, thinking about some of the long-term occupants the Center housed. They'd been here for years. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”
Derek growled again and tugged uselessly at the restraints. Stiles stroked his hand.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. You should have seen the guy we had in from Miami last year. Huge, built like the Hulk. We had these restraints designed especially for him and they kept him here just fine. So you’re not going anywhere until you chill out.”
Derek did not look pleased. Stiles grinned, keeping his hand where it was. God, he already felt fond and attached. The bond was starting to work its magic, though it wouldn’t really take root until the Sentinel got a chance to learn Stiles’ smell, taste, and many other awesome things. Hopefully it would involve a lot of sex.
Derek was watching him. Stiles’s breath hitched but determinedly, he began to move his hand up Derek’s arm, giving Derek his touch, showing that he wanted Derek to learn that part of him. He really wanted that. His Mom had been right about the attraction to his Sentinel, it really did feel like nothing else. No wonder his Dad was so bereft.
Stiles’ hand reached Derek’s face. Stiles stroked against the stubble there, enjoying the texture, before his thumb swept Derek’s cheekbones. Then he carefully drew his hand to Derek’s mouth, everything about the movement saying I want to trust you, don’t let me down. It was like dealing with a wild animal, because right now Derek was more Sentinel animal-instinct than anything else.
Derek pressed his lips needily to Stiles’ palm and fingers, then explored with his tongue. He looked blissed-out, drunk on the taste of Stiles. Stiles’ lips parted, letting out a hungry little sound of his own. That felt incredible. Derek was practically touch starved, he was so eager for Stiles’ hands on him. Any Sentinel meeting their Guide for the first time would react that way to some extent, but Derek was definitely more on the edge than most. His experience had damaged him deeply. Stiles wanted to tear open his skin and do something, anything, to make his Sentinel feel better. His Guide instincts had kicked into high gear. Speaking of which…..
“Derek,” Stiles’ voice was still beguilingly low but it got Derek’s attention. “We need to dial down your senses. Right now they’re so high, so sensitive, that everything around you feels really crappy, right? So……”
Had Derek had any Sentinel training? His family must have known how to handle him and what help he’d need since his uncle had been a Sentinel too. Stiles felt bile rising up his throat. Unless the uncle had taught Derek how to handle his super senses. No wonder Derek was spiking right now. He probably didn’t want to use any of the teachings that his uncle had passed on, not after what had happened. Okay, so what metaphor could Stiles use to encourage Derek’s battered mind to grasp onto the idea? Derek clearly liked cars - he'd worked with them and all the marks on his criminal record led back to a love of fast driving. Stiles could use that.
He gently cupped Derek’s jaw. “This probably won’t work the first time, but we’re going to keep trying, okay? So imagine in your head the speedometer from your car’s dashboard, imagine one for each of your five senses. Right now, those dials are all up way too high and you need them to get lower. One is labeled ‘Sight’. I want you to focus on that one. Ease your foot off the gas and let the needle slip down, okay? How about down from 100 to 60, then from 60 to 40.”
Derek’s eyes were still trained on Stiles but he seemed to begin to relax. Stiles kept talking him through the dials. He could feel Derek's tension easing but he wouldn’t know how effective his tutoring was until Derek started talking again. At least the Sentinel looked calmer, though Stiles had a feeling that Derek probably always had some level of wildness thrumming under his skin. It had likely gotten worse after his family’s deaths.
He talked and stroked until Derek looked almost asleep. He still gripped hard when Stiles tried to pull away from him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Stiles reassured him and gestured to the cot bed next to Derek. “See? I’ll be right here.”
Derek grunted, still irritable about Stiles letting go. Stiles would have liked nothing better than to curl up with Derek but that had to wait. Ironically, a Sentinel would usually be the one seen taking the lead in the relationship, as they had their Guide’s safety as their number one priority. Upon first meeting their Guide, they would roam the Guide's body, learning every part of them and taking several sweaty and vigorous days to truly cement the bond. But Stiles had seen that the best bonded relationships were the ones where the Sentinel and Guide were equals, taking turns to lead, and caring about each other with the same fervent desire. Stiles stared down at Derek’s fantastically yearning expression. God, he hoped that this was one of those.
Part 2