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Since Derek had told the story of the Alpha with no arm – famous for taking down the family of hunters with the last name Chase – Stiles had been speaking to him more.
Derek was miserable being hated by the pack, but he didn’t think that meant he didn’t hate them back.
He clearly hadn’t identified that correctly.
“Derek, can I ask you something?” Stiles asked one day after they’d held a pack meeting regarding their newest uprising dilemma – an Aswang.
Derek merely raised his eyebrow, keeping his arms crossed over his chest.
The rest of the pack had already left – along with Peter thankfully, who often chose to burden the other Hale’s with his presence. Cora was gone too. Something about acquiring throwing knives from the Argent’s because having to clean dirt and blood out of her nails constantly was irritating.
So that left Stiles and Derek alone.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Stiles stated, after a moment of waiting for Derek’s response. “I’ve got an idea – since I helped Scott through the initial transformations, but I just…I wanna know what it’s like to be a werewolf?”
Derek froze.
No.
“It won’t make it any easier.” The words pained him to say. They were barely a whisper.
He’d thought Stiles understood – Derek had told him about that alpha-
“Huh?” Stiles blurted out, brow crinkling.
“I can’t encourage you to take the bite,” Derek told him, clenching his fists. He never should’ve with Erica, Isaac, Boyd or Jackson either – especially not after what happened to Paige. He had just thought that if he could give it to someone willing it made it better, but he knew now what he’d been doing was tricking these desperate young people.
He’d been the same way – just as impressionable.
He’d had his own psycho alpha phase.
Saving Cora was his redemption, although he knew he was still paying for his mistakes. He was reminded of them every day around the pack. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he liked to be isolated.
“I’m not like that anymore,” Derek said firmly, gritting his jaw.
“I have no idea what-“ Stiles stopped. “Oh.”
He took a few steps back to settle on the couch, suddenly looking exhausted.
“That’s not what I meant,” Stiles said.
“Than what did you mean?” Derek demanded.
“I’m curious!” Stiles exclaimed, “I’m insatiable when it comes to knowledge – especially of the supernatural. And I’m surrounded by werewolves daily, I just wanted to know what it felt like – not to gauge if its beneficial to me, but just to know.”
Derek stared at him, (focusing on his heart beat).
It would’ve made sense for any human knowing of the supernatural to become a werewolf after being debilitated like Stiles had been.
But it didn’t make sense for Stiles to want to be a werewolf.
Hence why Derek had been scandalised.
Fortunately, it had been a misunderstanding.
(There hadn’t been a blip.)
“And I figured…I wanted to know what it was like from your perspective,” Stiles explained, “It’s different for everyone, I know that. And you’re one of the few who was borne.”
Derek sighed, sinking down to sit on the coffee table across from Stiles.
“Your curiosity is going to get you killed, someday,” Derek told the human.
Stiles smiled. “Satisfaction brought the cat back.”
Derek gave Stiles a disbelieving look. “The cat needs a damn reality check.”
“Amen,” Stiles responded, amused, “Now answer my question!”
Derek shook his head, exasperated.
How could he explain?
The word that came to mind was love.
Being a werewolf had been about love. Before the fire, at least.
It had been who he was, and his entire family shared the same trait. It was exclusive to them, and they had their traditions and they loved each other in all their shapes, sizes, and more importantly – forms.
“Love like ours is rare, Derek,” Mama explained one day, “Not many can achieve what we can. To be so different and still consider what is most important. Our hearts.”
Because no matter their differences, whether the blood held different genes and pumped warmer and faster through them, they all still had the same heart.
Derek’s heart was beating faster just thinking about it. And when he noticed Stiles gazing at him it sped it up even more.
But that wasn’t what it felt like anymore.
Being a werewolf after the fire was like spite.
His form didn’t feel like pride it felt like revenge.
Anger.
Hatred.
Fear.
He’d struggled through that.
The supernatural pull had tugged and tugged constantly, and his anger made him bleed as he abused the emotion to hide his pain.
When he’d become an alpha, it’d tortured him even more.
Laura was supposed to in his place. He was destined to be beta, and only beta.
But sacrificing that status had recalibrated everything.
So, it wasn’t love anymore.
Nor was it spite.
It was more like…hope.
But that hadn’t been what Stiles was asking.
“Being part wolf is natural to me, so I’m not sure I can explain how it feels in a way that’d make sense to you,” Derek answered, simply.
Stiles tilted his head thoughtfully. “What’s the Shift like?”
Derek thought for the right words. “Uncomfortable. Frustrating.”
Stiles quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”
“It’s like…both aspects of me are natural and I don’t have preference, but the transformation takes adjusting to.”
Stiles smiled at that. “So, it’s like ice-skating.”
Derek couldn’t really say – he’d never gone ice-skating before.
“Well, you go on the ice, you slip and fall, because the feeling is foreign compared to walking on solid grown with two feet,” Stiles elaborated, “Or one foot, in my case…but then you adjust to it and it becomes natural again – as easy as breathing. And then when you step off the ice, its jarring. You have to adjust to the friction once more.”
Derek stared at Stiles.
That analogy…was spot on.
“That sounds about right,” Derek murmured.
“What adjustments do you have to make from one form to another?” Stiles wondered aloud.
“Well, when I shift into beta, my brain becomes hyper-focused, and I have to tune a lot of things out so I don’t become overwhelmed – like right now. If I was constantly using my full range of hearing I’d get a migraine. You have to venture out with your senses.”
“Wow,” Stiles whispered, “Scott never described it like that.”
“Yeah?” Derek grinned, “What’d he say?”
“’It just happens, Stiles,’” he mimicked, “And he knows what it’s like to be human!”
“My guess is that he’s forgotten,” Derek offered. “Try explaining how you breathe.”
“Well, I, uh…think about it?” Stiles frowned. “Point taken. So, you block things out. Makes sense… What’s the full shift like?”
Derek let his eyes slide shut.
The full shift…
“Drowning,” Derek said, simply.
“Huh?”
“The process is like being submerged in water, there’s so many ways I can go but I don’t know where I’ll find air,” Derek described. “And then just when your lungs are burning the most you break the surface. But somehow your still under water.”
“Because you aren’t human,” Stiles realised.
“I’m still me, but I have a different mind,” Derek agreed.
“The mind of a wolf,” Stiles said, looking down thoughtfully.
Derek hummed, watching Stiles carefully. The human was completely still, and his heart rate had slowed considerably. Being seated influenced that, of course.
“What emotions go through you?” Stiles asked, “As a wolf, I mean?”
“I, uh,” Derek began, “It’s logical. My entire being relies on my intelligence and senses.”
“Instinctive,” Stiles offered.
Exactly, Derek didn’t say.
Stiles kept offering his intuitive understanding at every corner Derek offered.
In turn, Derek wanted to know how Stiles felt as a human, even though he was more than that. There was something inside of him which Derek sensed was potential for more. Like the smell of smoke before something caught fire.
But that wasn’t his placed. He doubted Stiles would feel comfortable addressing that.
“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” Stiles asked, his eyes probing Derek’s knowingly.
He didn’t have to answer.
Derek knew that.
But Stiles had said it – he was insatiable when it came to knowledge.
And then Derek had said it better – his curiosity would get him killed.
What better way to handle that than sate his thirst before worst came to worst?
“There’s always more,” Derek huffed, “Just when you think you’ve got it figured it, something comes along and throws you for a loop.”
The same went for Stiles. Derek couldn’t figure him out. He’d only recently taken up to trying – before he’d ignored his peculiarity with an upturned nose. Now…
There was no contempt to be found. Derek doubted there was any in the first place, if he was being honest with himself, which was rare.
“The same goes for all of existence,” Stiles sighed, but there was something in his demeanour that told Derek he was satisfied with the answer he had received. That his suspicions had been confirmed.
What his suspicions were, Derek hadn’t a clue.
Stiles knew by now that werewolves often relied on anchors to stay true to themselves and not give in to the overpowering urges that came with the altering DNA in their system.
He had yet to ask what Derek’s anchor was, which he knew he wouldn’t be able to answer honestly.
He hardly needed an anchor anyway…just during the darker times when he wasn’t in a good place mentally…
Derek guessed it wasn’t unlike redirecting one’s own thoughts onto a more positive route. Not that Derek did that.
He blinked as Stiles stood up and gave him a sincere smile.
“Thanks, Derek,” he said quietly.
“You’re welcome,” Derek responded automatically. He’d thought for sure Stiles would stay for longer and ask more probing questions about him and what it was like being a werewolf.
Then again… maybe his question had been more specific than Derek had realised.
And he’d got the answer he wanted.
“See you tomorrow, right?” Stiles asked, as Derek gazed on dazedly. There Stiles went again proving that Derek could never hope to keep up with him. Werewolf to disabled human, he was still no match.
“Yeah,” Derek answered absently. “Tomorrow.”
Stiles didn’t even need to dig far anymore to find what he was looking for.
He’d come along way.
But then again…
Hadn’t they all?