Fic: Into the Woods

[ionaonie]

Okay, so you know I mentioned a while back that I got into that show Teen Wolf? Well, since then (mid-September), I've kind of been writing fic. So far I've got about 20k of unfinished stories. This one represents about 4,000 of them.

Title: Into the Woods
Pairing:Derek/Stiles
Genre: Pre-slash
Characters: Scott McCall, Jackson Whittemore
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4,252
Spoilers: Set post season one, so if you haven't watched, don't read this

Beta: swing_set13 for encouraging me to write Teen Wolf fic. thisissirius and tahariel. Both of them held my hand, cheered me on, corrected some of my more...interesting spelling and grammar mistakes and generally made this a much better story. If you think something is funny, chances are one of them thought of it. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Summary: In which there is a lot of talking about Disney. A lot.



‘You really need to shut up,’ Scott hissed under his breath.

‘Dude, why are you whispering?’ Stiles gestured vaguely in Derek and Jackson’s direction, trusting that they knew their way to Pride Rock in the dark even if Stiles didn’t. ‘They’re werewolves. They can hear you.’

‘Whatever. You still need to shut up.’

Stiles found it kind of hilarious that Scott was the one always forgetting about werewolf senses when he had them himself. It gave credence to Stiles’ theory that he was way more suited to be a werewolf than Scott. At least he had watched the films and read the books.

‘Why? I’m only asking. It’s a legitimate question. I’m not even trying to be annoying.’ That was...mostly true. Mostly.

‘And yet you manage it so well,’ called Jackson over his shoulder. ‘Seriously, Stilinski, why don’t you do us all a favour and shut up?’ It was sad but true that Jackson hadn’t become any nicer after Derek had bitten him.

Scott pulled a face at Jackson’s back and Stiles swallowed a laugh.

‘Look, all I want to know is -’

‘Enough,’ Derek growled, his eyes glowing red, the moon giving them an even eerier appearance than usual.

Stiles hadn’t seen him move. One second he’d been a shadowy figure ahead of Stiles and Scott, talking quietly to Jackson. The next he was looming over them, making Stiles trip over his own feet as he stopped himself from walking straight into Derek’s chest.

If not for Scott grabbing him, Stiles would have fallen flat on his ass. Again.

Regaining his balance, Stiles scowled. ‘Fine, fine, I’m shutting up now.’

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing a word. His eyes were still red. Stiles really had to stop winding Derek up. Sooner or later his control was going to snap and Stiles was going to get his throat ripped out.

Stiles was fairly certain that the reason his stomach was all tied in knots was fear. Really, fear. It was...oh, who was he kidding? It was so not fear.

‘Okay, so me shutting up is unlikely, I grant you -’ Both Jackson and Scott snorted and Stiles took the time to glare at them both ‘- but I will stop talking about this, okay?’

Derek continued staring at him as the red faded. Stiles was relieved to see his eyes returning to their normal hazel. Mostly. Kind of. Completely. Because when his eyes were red they were kind of...distracting. Really distracting. Even more so than when they had turned blue. Stiles gave himself a mental kick upside the head. He really had to stop letting his mind wander like that when he was around Derek. Or, well, any of the werewolves, what with their Spidey sense, but especially Derek.

Derek relaxed minutely. Like, really minutely, but Stiles could tell. And he took a step back.

‘So, just to be clear, you’ve decided against ripping out my throat, yeah?’

‘For now.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles saw Scott turning away, but not before he saw him grinning. Since when had his best friend found Derek’s near daily threats of violence to Stiles’ body funny?

He reached over and hit Scott hard on the shoulder. ‘Hey!’

Scott shrugged but kept right on grinning, as if Stiles should find it funny too.

‘You know, one day Derek really will rip out my throat and then you’ll be sorry.’

Scott just laughed at him.

Stiles threw Scott a betrayed look as Derek growled quietly at them. Although this one was more ‘I’m going to knock your heads together if you don’t shut up’ rather than ‘I’m going to rip your throat out’. So that was progress, Stiles supposed. ‘If he gets pissed again, it’s so not my fault this time.’

‘So, just to clarify, the last time was your fault?’ asked Jackson, from where he was leaning against a tree, looking bored.

‘That’s not what I said,’ Stiles protested.

Derek shook his head in exasperation but his eyes stayed reassuringly hazel. The fact that Stiles found that slightly disappointing said really bad and disturbing things about him.

Derek grabbed Scott by the scruff of the neck and propelled him in Jackson’s direction. ‘Walk,’ he ordered.

When Stiles went to move past Derek as well he found his wrist in Derek’s vise-like grip. ‘Wait. You two yapping is giving me a headache.’

Scott shot him an apologetic look but still hurried over to Jackson, who pushed himself away from the tree so they were walking ahead of him and Derek.

‘I feel like I’m being sacrificed,’ Stiles commented.

‘Shut up,’ said Derek, but it lacked any true heat.

He turned to carry on walking, dragging Stiles with him.

‘Hey,’ Stiles protested. ‘I prefer my bones undisintegrated, thank you very much.’

Derek released his wrist, allowing Stiles to rub it, trying to get the circulation going again.

Stiles was staring into the gloom, looking for Jackson and Scott between the trees, when Derek’s hand settled heavily at the base of his neck. Stiles froze, having no idea what was going on, but he very carefully didn’t dislodge Derek’s hand.

Derek shook him gently. ‘Move. I want to get there before the full moon.’

‘That’s in, like, six days.’ Taking in Derek’s expression, he added, ‘and that’s precisely your point, right? Okay, okay, I’m walking.’ He pointed down to his feet as they, well, walked. ‘See?’

‘Do you even know why we’re going to - what do you all call it? Pride Rock?’

Stiles nodded. ‘From The Lion King.’

Derek gave him a blank look.

‘Really? You’ve not seen The Lion King? Mufasa. Rafiki. The Circle of Life? How is that even possible?’

He couldn’t see Derek’s expression, but he could feel the tension radiating out of him and he felt Derek’s fingers spasm on his neck before he answered. ‘Laura hated Disney movies.’

Stiles bit his lip, not knowing what to say. He was nearly positive that this was the first time that Derek had volunteered information about Laura. Worried that he’d do his usual thing of saying something stupid he bumped into Derek, brushing his body against Derek’s. Derek didn’t try to kill him so Stiles reckoned he hadn’t fucked up.

‘Scott loves Disney movies,’ said Stiles, knowing that Scott was going to kill him for telling Derek this. ‘I remember when we were five or six, we spent an afternoon watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella. For at least three months after he wanted to be a princess.’

Derek made a strange noise.

Stiles blinked. ‘Dude, did you just laugh?’ Because Death By Best Friend would totally be worth it if he’d actually made Derek laugh.

Predictably, Derek didn’t answer his question. ‘So, do you know why we’re going to Pride Rock?’

‘Uh -’

‘I told you. All of you. Before we left.’

‘Uh, yeah, about that...’

‘You weren’t listening.’ But Derek didn’t sound angry and that was more unnerving than his anger. Stiles had - probably to the detriment of his own continuing existence - become rather zen about Derek’s anger. Grumpy and slightly pissed off was, like, his base line, and Stiles couldn’t be bothered with being scared every time Derek growled at him or his eyes changed colour.

He had spent four months terrified that Derek was going to finally kill him. Every time he’d been around Derek there had been a low grade cramp in his stomach and when Derek’s eyes flashed, he’d broken out in a cold sweat.

Four months, that was, before he realised that that was just how Derek was. Maybe he hadn’t always been like it, but after everything he’d gone through this was certainly how he was now. After his epiphany he’d lost the majority of his fear that Derek would actually rip his throat out one day. Most of his fear.

So, now when Derek growled, he rolled his eyes; when his eyes flashed, he grinned [and he totally ignored the fact that his stomach cramped and he broke out in a cold sweat for a completely different reason]. Now Derek scared him because Derek was a scary guy not because Stiles thought he was going to kill him.

‘Not...really, no.’ He screwed his eyes shut, waiting for, well, waiting for Derek to do something horrific to him.

When nothing happened he opened first one eye and then the other. Derek had what could be described as a half smile, and though this was hardly the first time Stiles had seen Derek smile, it was the first time he remembered it being for something dumb he’d done. Plus, Derek smiling was always unnerving. Especially as it made Stiles want to smile back.

‘It’s a ritual. For the pack.’

Stiles blinked. ‘Ritual?’

‘It tightens Pack ties.’

‘Is there actual magic performed? With herbs and spells, and shit?’’ Stiles couldn’t decide if he was genuinely curious or being sarcastic.

Derek’s hand tightened on his neck.

‘Dude, I’m just asking. They don’t cover this on Wikipedia.’ Derek growled and Stiles grinned up at him. ‘Just so you know, sometimes you are way too easy.’

‘Do you want to know about this or not?’ snapped Derek.

‘Yes, yes, I want to know,’ said Stiles quickly.

He could never decide if Derek just enjoyed letting him flounder while trying to research stuff or if he really didn’t know. Stiles sometimes forgot that Derek couldn’t have been taught everything before he was sixteen and sometimes when he seemed mysterious, was probably just him being as clueless as they were. So anytime Derek decided to tell him something, Stiles listened.

‘Then shut up.’

‘Shutting up,’ said Stiles, miming zipping his lips.

Derek rolled his eyes, but kept talking. ‘My dad said that the ritual was to help the Pack bond.’

‘So, if it’s for Pack, why am I here?’

Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but Derek spoke over him. ‘Specifically the humans in the pack.’ Derek stared at him and Stiles was unable to look away, even though he wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to trip over anything. But Derek’s hand - still a warm comforting presence on his neck - just steered him where to go.

‘Wait.’ Stiles held up a hand and while Derek slowed down they never stopped walking. ‘Wait a minute. Am I part of your pack?’

The trees were casting strange shadows over Derek’s face but he thought he saw a slight smirk. ‘No. I just let mouthy know-it-all geeks backchat me for the fun of it.’

‘Huh.’

‘What?’

‘This is...unexpected,’ admitted Stiles.

‘Why?’

‘Well, because...’ And he had been about to say because he wasn’t a werewolf, but, duh, of course there had been humans in Derek’s family and they’d been Pack, so that would just be a stupid thing to say. ‘...I annoy the hell out of you.’

‘Unfortunately, Pack doesn’t distinguish between those we want to throw off a cliff and those we don’t.’ Stiles could definitely detect a thread of amusement through all of the exasperation.

‘Why me, though?’ Off Derek’s look of confusion, he clarified, ‘Danny knows. Why isn’t he here, too?’

‘Not Pack.’

Stiles still hated the way Derek would answer questions with as little information as possible. Or, like now, with no information.

Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, I worked that out myself, thanks, but why?’

‘Because you’ve been here from the beginning. You saved my life. Helped defeat the alpha - you made the Molotov cocktails, even if your aim sucked.’

‘Hey,’ protested Stiles, even though Derek was right about his aim. ‘And anyway, that’s what Alison was there for.’

‘Because you planned that.’

‘Well, no,’ admitted Stiles, ‘But I think you’d have to agree that it all worked out well in the end.’

‘We were lucky.’

‘I’m not arguing with that. I’m just saying that it all worked out.’

‘Perhaps,’ allowed Derek.

‘Perhaps? What do you mean perhaps? It totally worked out. Peter killed Crazy Kate -’ And Derek always got a funny look in his eyes when her name was mentioned. Stiles knew that was something important there but he was going to wait a long while before he asked Derek about it ‘- I turned up with Molotov cocktails for all -’

‘And Jackson,’ added Derek.

‘I needed a ride,’ protested Stiles. ‘It wasn’t like I wanted to bring him with me.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Peter turned into the great flaming werewolf, and you killed him. Where is the ‘perhaps’ in that?’

‘We could have died.’

‘But. We. Didn’t. My god, is your middle name Pessimism, or something, because you are definitely a glass-half-empty kind of a guy.’

‘I don’t like relying on luck to keep everyone alive,’ said Derek, gritting his teeth, as though admitting that was difficult for him.

‘No? Really? You surprise me. Because you are usually such a happy-go-lucky kind of werewolf.’

Derek yanked Stiles back against his body and growled low in his ear.

Recognising it as Derek’s ‘You have a toe over the line so shut the fuck up’ growl, Stiles nearly tried to pull himself away to give him some room. But in that moment everything Derek had been telling him crystallized and clicked into place.

He turned so he was walking backwards, absolutely convinced that Derek wouldn’t let him fall. And he was right. Kind of. Because Derek adjusted his hold on Stiles’ neck, his arm resting on Stiles’ shoulder, meaning they were walking practically chest to chest.

‘Oh. My. God. I’m pack.’ And, normally, Stiles would be freaking the fuck out about how close to Derek he was because there were some things he was trying to keep Derek from working out but there was only room for one thought circling his brain.

Derek gave a long suffering sigh. ‘Yes. And?’

‘I. Am. Pack.’ Which totally explained why Scott found Derek threatening Stiles funny, even if it didn’t explain why Scott hadn’t told Stiles. They would definitely be having words about that.

‘Stiles, I’m going to throw you into a tree if you don’t stop talking.’

‘But that’s just it. You won’t. I’m Pack. You’re my Alpha.’ And Stiles completely ignored the shiver that sent down his spine. ‘You. Won’t. Hurt. Me.’

Derek’s hand tightened slightly around Stiles’ neck, pulling him just a little closer to Derek. ‘I’m always prepared to make an exception for you.’

‘That’s sweet and all,’ Stiles told him, a bounce in his step, ‘But you won’t.’

Derek growled low in his throat, and Stiles laughed, realising that Derek, no matter how much he threatened, would never let Stiles get hurt. It meant, though, that Stiles was never going to find Derek mind-numbingly scary ever again. He laughed again as the realisation washed across Derek’s face.

‘Hey, hey, so does all this make you the King of the Woods?’ asked Stiles gleefully.

Derek gave him a black look.

‘Are you the boss of everything that lives in your domain?’ He poked Derek in the chest, his hand curling into Derek’s t-shirt as he said, ‘Oh my god, can you talk to woodland creatures and make them do your bidding?’

Stiles couldn’t see Derek’s face very clearly as they walked through some particularly gloomy shadows but the general vibe was exasperated, like Derek had been expecting something like this. Stiles hated being predictable. ‘You aren’t Snow White, are you?’

He squawked unattractively as Derek backed him roughly into a tree. ‘Was that really necessary?’

‘This is why I didn’t want to tell you,’ said Derek. ‘Every single thought you’ve had but were too scared to say would come tripping out of your mouth.’

Stiles shrugged. Or as much as he could with one of Derek’s arms pinning him across the chest, the other laying flat on the tree trunk, next to Stiles’ head. ‘Perhaps you should have told me before and I’d have got all of this out of my system.’

‘That’s what Scott said.’

‘So perhaps you should have listened to my best friend when he’s giving you advice about me,’ said Stiles, rolling his eyes. ‘Ummm, unless you don’t actually, well, you know, want-’

‘Stiles, you wouldn’t be here unless I wanted you here,’ interrupted Derek, his voice lacking its regular bite.

Stiles heaved in a huge sigh of relief, breathing in the smell of Derek’s leather jacket and the earthy smell that he now associated with Derek. ‘Okay, good. That’s...good.’

Derek’s hold on him relaxed minutely and his other hand curled back around Stiles’ neck, which Stiles didn’t lean into at all.

‘Why is that good?’

Stiles shifted nervously from foot to foot, belatedly realising that his hand was still fisted in Derek’s t-shirt and that he was having...issues letting go of it. He smoothed it down before realising just what he was doing and snatching his hand away.

‘Stiles,’ said Derek, his voice low, ‘why is that good?’

‘Well, you know, it’s pack,’ he said, not wanting to meet Derek’s eyes. He couldn’t really articulate why he liked being considered pack, but he did.

Derek leaned in closer, his hair lightly brushing the side of Stiles’ face and Stiles belatedly realised that Derek was scenting him (according to Scott sniffing or smelling weren’t appropriate words to use) and couldn’t decide if that was awesome or terrible. As Derek pulled back slightly Stiles saw his eyes flash red for less than a second, and if there hadn’t been about a millimetre between them, Stiles would have thought it was a trick of the light. But, no, he knew what he had seen. Derek’s eyes had definitely been red for a moment there. Which was...interesting because Derek definitely wasn’t angry at the moment.

‘So, hang on a minute, if you can’t - won’t’ He waved his hand vaguely, not really caring about the details at that precise moment ‘-whatever, me, why do your eyes keep going red? You’re not about to kill me, so what is it?’

Derek abruptly stopped leaning into Stiles, and pulled his hands away, leaving Stiles feeling oddly bereft. ‘Come on,’ he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘We need to hurry up.’

Stiles stepped away from the tree, rubbing his back where some of the bark had bitten into his skin. ‘Dude, we’re like, two minutes away from Pride Rock. That’s gives you plenty of time to tell me why your eyes turn red when you aren’t about to kill me dead.’

‘Scott and Jackson are already there,’ said Derek, sounding, bizarrely, off balance.

And Stiles wanted to push, he really did. He could tell there was something important going on here, just on the edge of his comprehension and he wanted to know what it was. He knew that Peter Hale’s eyes had gone red whenever he’d been emotional. Granted, said emotion had been psychotic anger, but emotion nevertheless.

Which, logically, meant that when Derek’s eyes turned red there was an emotional reason, just not mind-numbing anger. Which, honestly, was a relief, because Stiles had really hated that niggling feeling that one day he was going to go too far and Derek was going to lose control and actually rip out his throat. But it did beg the question: if it wasn’t anger, why were Derek’s eyes going red?

And, he was this close to asking, but Derek looked, well, he looked uncomfortable. As a perpetual loser, Stiles so could tell when someone was aiming for ‘casual’ but getting no further than ‘awkward’.

If Scott and Jackson weren’t seconds up the path and no doubt hearing every word being said, Stiles would be trying to find out what was bugging Derek this much. But if he didn’t want Stiles to know, he probably didn’t want Scott and Jackson to know either. Neither of them were any good at keeping things from Alison or Lydia and Stiles didn’t want to be responsible for any gossip flying around about Derek. So, instead of giving in to his curiosity, Stiles decided to change the subject.

‘Okay, so I assume you can’t really command all creatures at will-’ Although he was definitely going to see how often he could call Derek Snow White.

Derek slanted a cautious look at him.

‘But you bit Jackson,’ continued Stiles, ‘So does this make you his Yoda? Are you like, Jackson’s wolf dad -’ He really hoped Jackson had heard him ask that ‘- Are you Scott’s step-wolf dad? You’re like, the dad of this pack, right?’

What? He never said the change of subject was going to be a good one.

Derek growled but he relaxed and after a moment he reached out and placed his hand on the base of Stiles’ neck, pulling him closer.

Stiles grinned.

Both Scott and Jackson were lounging about, waiting, when Derek and Stiles emerged from the trees. Stiles sniggered to himself as they both jumped to attention with Derek’s arrival, although Scott was several seconds behind Jackson.

He grinned at Scott.

‘He told you then,’ said Scott; less a question and more a statement, since he would have heard everything.

Stiles continued beaming at him.

Jackson groaned. ‘Did you have to tell him?’ he whined. ‘He’s going to be unbearable now.’

Which reminded Stiles - He pointed at Scott. ‘We, though, are having words. You knew and didn’t tell me.’

Scott had the decency to look shamefaced and he shot a resentful look at Derek.

‘You can bitch Scott out later,’ said Derek, before Stiles could turn on him. ‘Right now, we have a ritual to perform.’

‘So, this ritual, it doesn’t, by any chance, involve the people of Beacon Hills standing - in awe, obviously - at the bottom of Pride Rock and singing Circle of Life as you hold Jackson up for all to see, does it?’

Derek stared at him blankly and Stiles remembered, oh yeah, Disney virgin here.

Scott was doubled over, laughing, obviously finding the idea of Jackson as Simba as hilarious as Stiles did. Although, that would make Lydia Nala and Lydia was all kinds of fierce so that totally worked.

‘What are you even talking about?’ demanded Jackson, obviously horrified, his eyes darting from Scott to Derek to the rock itself.

‘It’s the opening scene from The Lion King-’

‘You’ve watched the Lion King?’ The amount of disdain Jackson could project was impressive.

‘You haven’t?’ But not as impressive as Scott. Diss Disney at your peril.

‘Disney rocks,’ added Stiles.

‘Dude,’ Scott said, ‘next weekend we are so holding a Disney marathon.’

‘Definitely,’ agreed Stiles. He glanced over at Derek, who was standing a lot closer than he usually did, wondering if he’d be able to convince Derek to come along. If anyone needed to experience the healing powers of Disney it was Derek.

Jackson snorted. ‘You can count me out. I have much better things to do with my time.’

‘Have you seen it?’ Derek asked him.

‘What? No. Of course not.’

‘That explains SO much,’ muttered Scott, coming to stand next to Stiles and bumping shoulders with him. ‘Disney deprived.’

Jackson glared at him. ‘Shut up.’

Derek ignored their sniping like he always did. ‘Then you’ll be at Stiles’ next weekend.’

Derek didn’t mention it explicitly, but Stiles was positive that he meant he was going to turn up as well. There was a definite air of ‘this is a pack thing’ and pack events were kind of non-negotiable with Derek.

Jackson’s eyes widened in horror. ‘What? Seriously? I have to hang out with these -’ he snapped his mouth shut as Derek gave him is are you SERIOUSLY going to fight me on this? growl. ‘Fine,’ he sulked. ‘I’ll be there.’

‘And bring Lydia,’ added Stiles. ‘She loves Disney.’

‘How would you know that?’ demanded Jackson, glowering at Stiles. He still hadn’t forgiven Stiles for taking Lydia to the formal, even though it had been his own stupid fault.

‘Because everyone -’ He glanced over his shoulder at Derek ‘- nearly everyone,’ he amended, ‘loves Disney.’

Jackson looked ready to argue but settled for merely scowling at Stiles and Scott.

‘Lion King first, right?’ said Scott.

Derek was standing at Stiles’ shoulder, squinting up at the moon, a thoughtful look on his face. Stiles assumed he was trying to work out something for the ritual.

Stiles nodded. ‘Then Snow White.’

Derek growled. Stiles resisted the urge to take a tiny step back into Derek’s heat.

Scott shot him a grin and stifled his laughter. Yep, he had definitely heard Stiles and Derek talking in the forest. ‘Then Alpha and Omega?’

‘Oh my god, can you two just stop,’ begged Jackson.

Scott looked at Stiles. ‘He’s Zuzu, right?’

‘Oh, very much so,’ Stiles agreed.

‘Will the pair of you shut the hell up before I remove your throats. Permanently.’ Derek growled

He was growling right in Stiles’ ear and Stiles couldn’t quite suppress the shiver that went down his spine. Scott shot him a quizzical look and Stiles foresaw an incredibly awkward conversation with Scott in the near future.

‘We only have another fifteen minutes to do this and if I have to come back out here with you lot in six months time, I’m going to kill you here and dispose of your bodies.’

‘Why six months?’ asked Stiles to distract both himself and Scott.

‘Because that’s when the ritual can next be performed. So you are all shutting up and we are doing this now.’

‘Whatever you say, Snow White.’

Even Jackson laughed at that.

What is my life?