For haled

[sarcasticdefence]

Stiles vanished over the summer break.

He needed space. After the kidnapping, Jackson's death, everything that happened, his dad sent him for a fortnight camp for other troubled kids. He came back a bit more subdued for a while, introspective, and it was only Scott threatening to drag him to the other werewolves for a check over to make sure he wasn't a pod person that picked him up again.

On the night of the new moon, he shaved his head again and packed up a bag, sneaking out through his window and making his way down to the graveyard.

He marked out the compass points in a circle, trailed a small dash of mountain ash to make the ring and carefully set his markers. A smoulder of incense, a dash of water, a feather stuck in the ground quill first and a small rock.

He folded his legs and closed his eyes, letting himself relax.

Comments

[haled]

"And what's it going to do if something happens? What are you giving up to have something like that inside of you?"

[sarcasticdefence]

"Bit of effort and focus and way too many hours under a needle." He rubbed his arm and shivered. "But you know what? It's fucking worth it. I can look after myself. No more waiting for rescue."

[haled]

Derek raised his eyebrows at the mention of a needle, glancing at Stiles' arm for a moment. "What if that thing in you decides it wants out? Or that it wants to take over?"

[sarcasticdefence]

"That's like saying 'what if the battery takes over the remote', seriously. It's power, charge, juice, it doesn't have thoughts of its own."

[haled]

"If it's just power, why'd it look like it was trying to escape when I scared you?"

[sarcasticdefence]

"Because you scared me. It reacts. And you interrupted me while I was doing delicate work. You can't just grab the dead, stick them in a bottle and walk off with them, it doesn't work like that!"

[haled]

"So sticking them in yourself is a better way to do things? Are you telling me it reacts as an extension of you? What kind of power is it giving you exactly?"

[sarcasticdefence]

"Look, do you know anything about necromancy? No, I didn't think so. I do. I know what I'm doing with them. They give me the magical reserves to drop protection spells."

And he could loose them form his body in a screaming horror of death if he had to. But that hadn't seemed like a great idea over all.

[haled]

"It doesn't take knowing about it to realize it's not a good thing, Stiles! It's not natural!"

Not that he could really talk about natural, but he was sure there was some form of balance when it came to magic. There was a reason emissaries didn't help them out of everything with magic all the time, after all.

[sarcasticdefence]

"Really? Really? You did not go there, mister breaks all known laws of conservation of mass and physics. Natural does not feature in our life style. You inherited power by tear out your uncle's throat."

[haled]

"What I do is natural for a werewolf! You're not supposed to mess with the dead. I don't have to be a magic user to know that kind of shit."

[sarcasticdefence]

"I repurpose lost energy into something productive to the world. It's recycling."

[haled]

"I don't care what you call it. Isn't this the kind of magic that screws with you?"

[sarcasticdefence]

"No more than any other type. Get out of my room, Derek. You're not actually welcome in here whenever you feel like dropping by. In fact, most guys who are out of high school would be looked at pretty dodgy for sneaking into a high schoolers bed room."

[haled]

The comment didn't get to him. But Derek did push himself up off the edge of Stiles' bed. "Fine. I'll go."

Not that he intended to give up on the subject, but he knew the night was a bust. Stiles wasn't going to listen to anything. Not after he'd taken the effort to block him off from getting near him in the cemetery.

[sarcasticdefence]

"Why do you care," Stiles suddenly asked. "Honestly, not this bullshit that is matters because it's necromancy by the strictest definition. Why do you give a damn what I do if it isn't getting you arrested?"

[haled]

The question came out of left field considering he'd agreed to leave and he figured that was going to be enough for Stiles. It had Derek turning to look over at him, already almost to the window.

"I give a damn because we've been in this shit together for months. We're on the same damn side. And, as hard as it'll be for you to believe, I don't want to see anything happen to you."

[sarcasticdefence]

"Too late," Stiles stated blandly. "Just, go away. I don't need you."

[haled]

Derek stared at him for a long moment. "You're not dead. It's not too late."

But, with that, he moved for the window again and climbed out, seeing himself out of Stiles' room for the night.