Turning Year

Chapter 17: I Can't Be Without You

They stayed together all afternoon, never getting tired. Soon Derek felt restless in his bones, he knew he had to shift back.

When he did, it was like all the feelings came rushing towards him. He knew he needed to tell Stiles he was going back to his village, he had to. It would be hard, but it had to be done.

His head was hanging, but he glanced back up at Stiles, who was still in his animal form. He then became aware that Stiles probably didn't know how to shift back.

"Do you know how to shift back?" Derek asked. Stiles just cocked his head and stared back at Derek.

"I'll take that as a no." He smiled. "Okay just. . . think of something, or someone to ground you. Like. . . someone to keep you human. Someone that makes you want to stay human. Um. . . your dad? Or the chiefs, or Scott even."

Stiles backed up and seemed to concentrate, but nothing happened. Then, an idea popped into Derek's head, a dangerous, stupid, idea.

He went up close to Stiles and ran his fingers through his fur. Flashing his eyes blue he whispered, "Think of me." 

Stiles shuddered and his bones started to crack. Holy shit. It worked. . . meaning that the bond was even stronger than Derek had thought.

When Stiles was human again, he was practically panting, still in pain from the shift.

"How did you figure out how to do that?" He asked.

Derek shrugged. "It's. . . your anchor, or that's what we call it. Every werewolf knows you need one, they help you stay human."

"So. . . you're. . ." Stiles trailed off.

"Your anchor, yeah I guess so." Derek shrugged, trying to remain casual, though he knew what this meant.

"Oh."Stiles scrunched up his eyebrows.

"What?" Derek snapped.

"I just figured it would be someone like my dad, or Lydia." He smirked. That little fucker, what, was he trying to make Derek jealous? Derek stood, turning away from Stiles.

Stiles snorted. "Dude just chil-" Stiles was cut off by Derek tackling Stiles to the ground.

"Funny that you think you're anyone's except for mine."

Stiles didn't know what to do, so he just nodded his head rapidly. Derek was seriously angry, eyes a bright blue, fangs near Stiles' face, inches away, and claws wrapped around his bicep.

The nodding didn't seem to do anything.

"Okay, okay! Just don't bite my face off!" When stiles said this, something in Derek registered, and his fangs retracted. He climbed off of Stiles quickly.

"I'm- I'm sorry, I didn't- I." Derek stuttered. What the hell had just came over him? 

"What the hell Derek? Are you going to go all werewolf mojo on me every time I mention someone other than you? You almost bit my face off, jealous fuck."

"I'm sorry, I. . . lost control."

"Lost control? How? W-why?" Stiles sputtered.

Derek didn't know how to answer that, so he just stayed quiet.

"I need to go." Derek whispered.

"Dude, no. We can go back to the house and talk, but-"

"Stiles no. I need to go back to my village, I am going." Derek said, clenching his jaw shut, trying to convince himself, as well as Stiles.