#while being able to 'meet' her own lost mother she barely knew thru the eyes of the mothers' broken friendships; everything was connected

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @nosetothewind94!

I wish you all the best on this holiday season, and I dearly hope this little ficlet finds you happy and well. Enjoy the time with your loved ones, and have a few wonderful days until the end of the year and the coming decade!

*****

You Knew You Were Lost

It was the light that drew him in like a moth, breaking through the lines of trees in flecks of gold and bright white. Derek was out on the run with his family, the full moon bright overhead and the forest floor black and endless below his paws, but the light – the light made him change his track, separate from the pack, trot deeper into the thicker rows of trees here at the head of the Beacon Hills preserve. 

People never got into these woods during a full moon. All of them knew there was a wolf pack roaming free, and that it could get dangerous to  meet them by night. Not that this wasn’t stupid – Derek and his family had never attacked a person, not without reason at least – but it allowed the Hales to move more freely at night, enjoying their run under the moon as one pack, one family. 

A family of werewolves, but a family nonetheless.

Derek walked slower, towards the light that had all but faded now. He could smell something that held the scent of wet metal, and he didn’t need a second to realize that it was blood – but not fresh. The wolf weaved through the underbrush and towards a clearing and then stopped in his tracks, taking in the scene.

There was an upturned metal bowl, like a cauldron, and a stomped-out fire. The floor was slightly wet from the contents of the bowl, where the blood smelled the strongest… And right next to it, completely wrapped up in clothes that were far, far too big for it, was a fox.

But you are no fox, Derek thought, looking at those brown eyes and slightly upturned, pointy nose. The fox flattened his ears in reflex, then startled at what had to be an unfamiliar feeling, and proceeded to try to touch his own ears with his front paw. He opened his mouth, presumably to speak, but all that got out was a high-pitched whine. He shut his teeth again with an audible click, looking something between elated and horrified. 

His leg was still somewhat stuck in those oversized jeans and he looked positively ridiculous.

Derek cocked his head to the side, then lowered himself to the forest floor to make himself smaller, more unsuspecting. There was no way to talk to the fox, although he was rather sure he would be able to understand human language – still, in this form Derek himself was unable to form it. He wagged his tail lightly, to appear more friendly, and peered up at the fox from his position on the ground. 

The fox sneezed, but his tail moved happily, like a fuzzy snake wiggling back and forth. He wasn’t really distressed, from the looks of it. Just… very surprised. 

Slowly Derek stood back up, getting closer to the fox and walking around him. He looked… just like an average fox, really, with somewhat splotchy, reddish fur that turned while on the belly area. His paws were black, and there was a tuft of wild fur standing up between his ever-moving ears that gave him the impression of a wild haircut. His eyes were almost too human in their intelligence. 

Derek stepped closer to him, nudging him out of the jeans with the tip of his nose. The fox made an indignant sound of frustration, but finally got his leg free, standing of all fours for the first time now, looking as if he still needed to get the hang of it. 

And maybe he did. 

The black wolf didn’t consider any longer; he leaned forward, closing his teeth in the fur of the fox’s neck, lifting him up despite his squawk of surprise. It wouldn’t hurt him; Derek himself had been carried like this since he’d been a small pup, barely able to walk on his own. Carrying a fox wasn’t a hardship – they didn’t weight much, anyway, and this one immediately went limp in his grip, letting himself be handled. 

Derek huffed darkly, then trotted back towards his mother howling for him deeper in the woods. He’d find out who this was. 

+++++ “I assume you haven’t been born like this?” Derek asked once he was back to the Hale house, back to his human form, and still alone; he’d left the others in the woods, left to their run and their freedom. The fox sat on his knees, looking up at him and frowning in the perfect impression of a somewhat constipated teenager, before shaking his head in what was clearly a humanoid gesture. So he did understand him, just like he had thought. 

“You were, what? Changed into this? Cast a spell upon? Cursed – “

An eager nod. The fox yipped once, then pawed at Derek’s shoulder, like he wanted to tell him “you got it in one”. Derek frowned at the overly friendly gesture, but let it slide. 

“I know someone… who might be able to help. We’ll go there first thing tomorrow.”

A disappointed whine. 

“We’re not going anywhere today, it’s the middle of the night, and even my … contacts have their limitation. If you want me to help you you gotta play along a little.” He sighed. “We also need to find a way for you to tell me your name – “ 

At that the fox leapt off his legs, sniffing and padding through the room as if it belonged to him. Derek followed him slowly, an eyebrow raised, mostly curious what he would do. 

In the end he watched him pull a newspaper from the heap of old magazines his dad had stacked neatly next to the fireplace, spreading it out on the floor. The fox looked expectantly up at Derek as he set his left foot down on one of the headlines. 

Derek squinted. The clawed paw was pointing at a letter.

“S.” 

With a dramatic nod the fox looked for the next one, repeating his performance. Derek kept reading. 

“T. I. L. E. S. … what the hell is a Stiles?” 

There was an indignant huff, and the fox – Stiles, apparently – flopped down on his belly, looking up with a pout. Derek relented. 

“Alright, alright. Now come on, it’s time to go to bed. You’re sleeping in my room.” 

Stiles followed him keenly, and if ‘in my room’ was a code for ‘in my bed, with your fuzzy head on the pillow and your feet everywhere in my face when I wake in the morning’, well… Derek didn’t have to tell anyone. 

+++++

“He’s very clearly been cursed,” Alan Deaton said in a sombre tone, setting the stethoscope down. Stiles was seated on his metal table, looking unhappy to be where he was, but bravely facing the situation without as much as a whine. 

Derek didn’t want to say it, but he was a little proud of him. 

“Well, is there a way to un-curse him?” the werewolf asked drily, rubbing the back of his head. Stiles looked over at him and his tail moved again, indicating a certain happiness that he had asked for him. 

“Unfortunately,” Deaton began, and Derek felt his heart sinking in his chest, “this curse cannot be solved through anything I have access to. On the other hand, from what I can see it’s time-bound. It should only remain for a week, and then he should turn back into his old self all on his own. No magical tinctures required.” 

“And his… family?” Derek hazarded. At the mention of family Stiles’ eyes went wide, and he whined mournfully. So he hadn’t thought about this yet. 

“Thankfully, I do know where this young man belongs to,” Deaton replied, not even missing a beat. “I will make sure his father does not consider him missing in the meantime. Unfortunately, this means he is safest off in your hands for the time being…”

“I get it,” Derek replied, a little gruff. But he stepped forward, already lifting Stiles back up into his arms. He didn’t really mind the feeling of the fur against his skin, or the way Stiles moved to wiggle around in his arms until he was comfortable – not even the slightest bit. Maybe that should worry him. 

He left the vet’s office, ignoring the people staring at him for the fox perched halfway on his shoulder, looking as if the entire world belonged to him. 

+++++

They rode back home in the Camaro, Stiles on the passenger seat with his nose pressed against the window. He made a whining noise once they drove past the first fast food joint, and then another after the next, and finally Derek relented, steering the sleek black car into the Drive-Thru. 

“I don’t even know what you like,” the werewolf murmured half to himself. Stiles sat up straighter, then climbed over onto his lap, paw pointing at the plastic pictures of… cheeseburger and curly fries. 

Well then. 

They ate in the parking lot, and finally Stiles curled up on Derek’s discarded jacket, making the happiest sound Derek had ever heard from a fox. He had torn through the entire package of curly fries like a starving man, and maybe that was just what he was, underneath the cursed skin of a woodland animal. 

Derek watched him for a moment, sipping his drink; then he started the motor, taking them towards the Beacon Hills preserve. 

+++++

The rather peaceful time he had been able to enjoy the last evening, was all for naught as soon as he took only but one step through the door. 

His older sister, Laura, was the first to approach him, opening her mouth to say something, but stopping entirely in her tracks once she spotted the fox. Her face lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree. 

"Oh... Oh, Derek! What’s this?"

“A smoothie," Derek replied on instinct. Stiles made a noise between a whelp and a sneeze, and the werewolf figured he might be laughing. 

So he got the reference, huh? A nerd fox. 

"That's Stiles," Derek finally said, taking half a step back as his sister came closer and closer to try to look at the animal on his arm. "He was cursed in the woods or something. I just took him to Deaton, and he said he should change back in a bit."

"Cursed?" 

Laura looked up in sudden alarm, worry crossing her face. It was painfully easy for Derek to read his family, most of all his sisters. 

"By whom? Is there a witch on our grounds..? Do we need to tell mom?", she asked, almost talking to herself. Then she shook her head lightly and made a clicking sound. 

"Cora! Come here! You gotta see this!" 

Cora, the younger sister, bounded down the stairs almost immediately, her customary frown etched into her face. She was clearly not amused by this disturbance... until she saw the fox. 

"OH MY GOSH! IT'S SO CUTE!"

Cora darted forward as if stung, almost immediately up in Derek’s personal space. Stiles, however, put back his ears and growled in a sudden display of aggression.

"Don't touch him," Derek said reflexively. It was out of his mouth before he even realized he said it. 

Cora froze with her hand outstretched, and Stiles bared his teeth and ruffled up the raggedy fur at the back of his neck, trying to appear bigger or more imposing. Derek held him a little tighter.

"He's cursed, he's no pet, and he's a little - skittish. You don't want him to bite you, okay?"

"Oh... wow, you two are... ", she mumbled, but then pressed her lips together and retreated with a nod. Laura's lips, right next to her, were stretched into a fond smile. 

"How long will this curse last?"

"A week," Derek said, eyeing Cora with confusion. What did she mean? He tried to catch Stiles' gaze, but the fox proceeded to try to bury himself in his jacket, disappearing entirely and staying slotted between his chest and his clothes. It was way less uncomfortable than Derek had expected. "Deaton said he should stay here for the time being. His family won't look for him, he informed them he's... I don't know. Off somewhere."

Laura nodded at that, an almost knowing smile on her lips. It was, quite frankly, a little unsettling to see. "

Okay. Is he... yeah, he is comfortable with you, from the looks of it. That’s very good to know. Have you two already eaten?" 

At that Stiles' head popped up, ears wiggling.

"Despite what he's probably trying to tell you with his body language, yes, we had horrible and unhealthy fast food on his request." 

Stiles looked at him from the collar of his jacket, protesting loudly. Derek just ruffled his head between his ears without thinking about it. 

"So yeah, we're good. I think."

Laura  nodded again, then placed one hand on Cora's shoulder. 

"Come on, let's leave them alone. Give them the extra bonding time..." 

"I wonder who he is? And who cursed him! Hey, foxy, once you're back to speaking, we can kick that witches' arse!", Cora announced with a big and toothy grin before turning around, following her sister down the corridor.

Stiles' ear flopped a little to the side as he watched the two of them leave, and Derek had the feeling he let out a long breath of air like a sigh. 

"They're not that bad," he said quietly, just loud enough for Stiles to hear. The fox didn't seem to agree and burrowed deeper into his jacket with a growl of open disagreement. 

Derek just smiled, taking him up to his room.

+++++

Stiles stayed in his bed this night – like every other night, in fact. 

During the day, they were out together as well. Stiles had a good look at the unfamiliar house, kind of avoided Derek’s sisters, then got to know his parents and Peter, who just stared at him and then went off laughing like a maniac. Then he accompanied Derek during his run through the forest, and it ended with Derek transforming into a wolf as well, and them playing until they fell asleep, with the wolf curled around the smaller fox. 

Derek noticed that it was actually really nice having Stiles around, although he was a tiny troublemaker. He loved to play pranks, and judging from the sounds he made as a fox, he would be really talkative as a human. He didn't let the others touch him, but he always curled up really close to Derek, or right up inside his clothes. One day he also walked around with one of his hoodies on his back, tail wagging and tongue lolling out, as if this was the best thing ever.

It was odd, having Stiles around... but odd in the best ways possible. Derek studied with the fox spread out on his lap, read him from his favourite science fiction books (all of them dog-eared and with yellowed pages through and through), and went on his morning run with nobody else than the fox at his side. And damn, it felt... good, having someone he could share all this with. Someone at his side, that seemed to understand him.

"I wonder if we would have been friends if you were never cursed," Derek said one night, stretched out on his bed, looking at Stiles on his back, feet in the air. The fox looked back at him, one ear flopping to the side as he slowly edged closer, closer, until his nose almost touched Derek's face. He made a sound close to a whine, then opened his mouth and shut it again. Finally, he moved his tail.

"I have no idea what you want to tell me," Derek replied softly, ruffling his fur and leaning in to brush his nose against Stiles' cheek. He felt so warm like this - warm and comforting in the best way, and if Derek took a deep breath he smelled something absolutely divine, like warm cinnamon in deepest winter...

Stiles edged even closer, appearing sad now. He pushed himself underneath Derek's head, yipping briefly.

"I’m sorry, Stiles," Derek said quietly, rubbing his belly and holding him close. The smell only seemed to grow stronger, and he sighed deeply, eyes closed and enjoying the feeling of warmth, of a closeness he had never felt, he’d never experienced before, and which he wanted to last –

Derek vaguely remembered falling asleep like that. He felt Stiles' warm fur, his soft breathing, the nice scent, everything was there... 

...and he certainly hadn't expected it to turn into flailing limbs the next day. Limbs that fell right out of his bed with a loud thumb. 

"OH, FUCK!"

"What the," Derek said suddenly and with fervour, sitting up with a start. Just seconds ago - or, well, what felt like seconds ago - he'd held on to small furry limbs, and now?

Now the most beautiful, warm eyes stared back at him from the floor of his bedroom, and the pointy, fuzzy ears were gone, and the fur was, too, and Stiles - Stiles was a human, a very naked, very good-looking human, mind, and the smell of cinnamon was everywhere –

“Holy shit,” the boy said, and Derek felt his heart soaring at the sound of his voice, like things inside of him slotted back together and were finally, finally in the right place, and – 

He hoisted the boy – Stiles, now the real Stiles – up on the bed, earning him a squeak that sounded familiar for some reasons, and threw his arms around him. The embrace was different – those limbs were longer now, and felt… different, but better even still – but the smell was the same, tantalizing sweetness and something Derek had never found before. 

Then Stiles made another high-pitched sound. 

“Dude. Not complaining on the hug front, but I am sorta naked here??” 

“Right,” Derek coughed, sitting back. Stiles almost immediately grabbed a blanket and wrapped himself up in it, only his head peering out with wide eyes. He was… smiling. It looked stunning on him, and Derek really, really wanted to kiss him. 

“You are even prettier with these eyes,” the boy muttered. Derek ducked his head a little, watching him closely. He felt himself flush, but in the best way. 

“As are you. I think we got a lot to talk about, now that you can…”  

[dsmroleplay]

#PaintTheWallsRed #DSM #SPN #RP #ChapterFive

Written by: @LegacyHunterDW & @JulianRyker Warning: Rate R Violence, Sex, Mature Themes. Fiction

Julian: -Julian wanted to smack the hell out of Dean but he couldn't for obvious reasons. He just shook his head, he couldn't say anything to many people around. Coming to a stop behind his "savior" and waits for the clerk to acknowledge their presence. It was like the world lit up for the portly woman who was probably in her seventies. Eyes glued to Dean, Julian just watched holding back his smile. He'd seen the magic effects the Winchester had on women more than a few times.- ::::::::::::::::: Dean: Dean smirks seeing the look on Julian's face turning his attention back to the Clerk's desk. When the lady calls them forward Dean leads Julian to the desk. Keeping his hand around his upper arm Dean smiles charmingly at the elderly lady behind the desk. Laying his forearm across the counter he leans forward just enough to see her smile brighten even more "You look like you are having a rough day. I do believe you should go home and soak in a hot bath with a nice glass of wine and leave all this stress here." He flashes that charming smile again and nods down to the file that has 'Julian Ryker' on it after seeing the grumpy detective tosses it in front of her and walks away "Detective Grumpy Pants must've signed off on my prisoners transfer. :::::::::::::: Julian: -He hoped Dean went easy on the lady, she'd probably have a heartache if he got any sweeter with her. He shifted from one foot to the other, his body ached. He wanted to soak in hot water and drink a fifth of whiskey right about now.- :::::::::: Dean: Dean can relate to what Julian is going thru. He spent months locked in a tiny room with no communication from the outside world, his brother, not even a TV. He had a cot, a sink, and a toilet with 3 meals put thru a slit in the locked door. No shower, no booze, no nothing until he made a deal with a reaper and literally had to die before he was able to escape the nightmare. He even said that it was worse than when he was in hell The clerk handed him the proper papers and a big brown envelope that contained Julian's property. Dean gave her that charming smile and a quick wink before standing back up fully. He pulls as gently as possible on Julian's while still making it look good "Don't forget, hot bath and glass of wine." Turning his attention back to Julian "Come on, let's go. ::::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian was pretty sure the woman had a small orgasm just picturing Dean and that glass of wine but he kept that to himself and followed him down the hallway and outside. He squinted his eyes it was bright out here and he'd been in a dark room a couple days now. Following Dean out to the car he smiled.- Still, got her huh? I have to respect your loyalty on keeping her and in top shape no less. :::::::::::::: Dean: As soon as they get out to his baby Dean open's the passenger door and puts his hand on top of Julian's head to lower him inside taking a quick look around. Not seeing anyone watching them or even giving two shits what they were doing he closes the door and walks around getting into the drivers seat. He looks over at Julian and grins patting her dash "Hey, she's my girl. We've been thru a lot together. Gotta say, she's the only one who's never let me down and loves me for me." He starts her up grinning hearing her engine purr. Dean has never been lucky when it comes to relationships. Even his own brother has skipped out on him once or twice but this car, she's always been here waiting on him "As soon as we get outta this lot i'll pull over and take those restraints off. I seen a Taco joint down the street. We can stop there and pick up some grub or i can drop you off at the motel and you can shower while i make a supply run. I just got into town, stopped changed and came straight to you but i have some beer in the cooler i can take in. ::::::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian was breathing fresh air and it felt damn good. His big hands rested in his lap the cuff's on him. He looked over at Dean and for the first time saw him in a different light. Who else would have showed up without being called? Put their neck on the line for a guy they barely knew. This guy was a really awesome guy, Julian would return the kindness one day he promised himself that.- Dean I'm okay man, I'm not a fan of being restrained by strangers anyway. -Tries to make a joke and lighten the mood.- I'd say let's go back to my place but I'm not sure if there will be reporters... although there wasn't anyone around just now in front of the precinct... I mean if you don't want to crash in a hotel. Least I can do is put you up? Besides you said I stink I doubt your clothes would fit me since I'm four inches taller than you and shopping for new clothes would probably bring out the press quicker than us going to my place? We could pick your stuff up then go to the penthouse? :::::::::::::::::: Dean: Dean clicks the radio on but keeps it on low looking in his review mirror. Once he sees they're not being followed Dean pulls off to the side of the road and shuts her engine off. Leaning over he pulls out the handcuff key and pulls Julian's arm up until he's able to reach the small hole. He unlocks both of his wrists and takes the cuffs. Holding them up he smirks with a nod "These might come in handy later." Opening Julian's left hand he sits the key in his palm and sits back upright turning the key in the ignition again. Putting her into drive he checks the mirror and pulls back out onto the road with a chuckle using an english accent "We could go to the penthouse..." He glances over at Julian with a grin licking his lips then quickly snorts "Wait, did you just call me short?" Rolling his eyes he shakes his head to that idea after giving it a quick thought "I don't think that's the best plan to hang low. Is there anyplace else you have access to that the cops won't think to look at? A friend you can stay with maybe? I'm used to staying in lousy motels, it's part of my everyday life. :::::::::::::: Julian: I wasn’t calling you short, just stating a fact I got a few inches on you. I wouldn’t want anyone involved... I’m good with the hotel and believe me the navy didn’t give us much to sleep on. My first year back I felt like the bed was melting because it was so soft. So your brothers hunting alone just like you? Dangerous isn’t it? :::::::::::: Dean: Dean stops at a light and quickly puts the shifter up into drive. Reaching into the backseat he opens the cooler and grabs out an ice cold can of beer. Closing the lid he turns back around and holds the cold beer out for Julian giving him a quick wink The light turns green and Dean pulls off again "I know Bobby used to have a bunch of cabins scattered throughout the west coast. How close are we to a place called Big Bear? It won't be much but it'll have running water, a stove, fridge and a generator if that sounds better than a motel? :::::::::::::::: Julian: It’s about two hours away. -Taking the beer he relaxed a little.- I’ve got a beach house in La Jolla, it isn’t my name it’s under my companies name I lend it out to my guys during the summer for their families... :::::::::::: Dean: Dean raises both his brows and glances over at Julian. He can't imagine what the man has been thru. It's one thing knowing the supernatural exists but a whole other thing when you have something happen to you and the men he lost weren't just employee's of his, they were his friends and if anyone knows what it's like to lose them, it's Dean "Then we go to your beach house. As far a me and Sam goes, him and Cass are out on a case together. I sprained my ankle pretty bad on the same hunt that got my faced bruised up and had to stay off it for a few days but even so, Sam has kinda been doing his own thing these days. As far as it being dangerous the answer to that is it's not actually safe but knowing Sam is doing less and less of it since meeting that chick it's worth the risk. I'm gonna clean up that bite when we stop to pick up my stuff. Those hellhounds aren't known for their gentleness so that arm of yours must be hurting like a mother fucker. I have all the supplies in the first aid kit in the trunk. ::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian downed his drink as he listened to Dean. He felt protective all of a sudden. He wouldn’t leave his guys for a piece of ass no matter how awesome. But he didn’t comment.- Dean, you got me out of there if you need to get out of here and go take it easy you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll figure shit out somehow I’m stubborn like that. :::::::::: Dean: Dean turns into the motel where he was staying and into a parking spot killing the engine. He turns to look at Julian shaking his head "That's not gonna happen so don't say it again. I drove a 24 hour trip in 17 hours to help you and that's what i'm going to do, caphice? Now, let's get you inside and get your arm taken care of. Sam usually keeps a duffel in the trunk for emergencies so you can jump in the shower and throw on something of his. He's like 6'4" so his jeans and a shirt should fit ya then we'll head to your beach house.