For the Love of Chaos

Trust you

To say Stiles was a wreck was an understatement. He didn't know what he was doing. All he knew was that he was pacing Derek's balcony and trying to not freak out. He'd stepped out for some air, while the wolves were inside coming up with a plan. Scott had begrudgingly agreed to stay.

Nobody said anything about the mark and Stiles was honestly glad, however he was dying to know what Derek thought. The alpha had remained infuriatingly emotionless throughout the whole thing.

"Stiles?"

Speak of the devil.

Stiles turned to see Derek slip through the sliding glass door.

"Uh, sorry do you-do you need me for...something?" Stiles asked, rubbing his sweaty hands down the side of his jeans.

"No, I was just...checking on you," Derek glanced over his shoulder, towards the door as if debating on making a run for it.

"Don't do that," Stiles huffed, rolling his eyes. He turned back to face the railing.

"Do what?" Derek frowned taking a cautious step forward.

"Act like you care. Just because I have this stupid mark doesn't mean you have to act different towards me," Stiles answered, not looking away from the passing traffic in the distance.

"I'm not. I know this is a lot for you, and Scott isn't exactly being understanding," Derek didn't want to tell Stiles that he felt a connection between them. He didn't know if it was just because of the mark or if it was always there and just brought to the surface now.

"It's a lot for everyone," Stiles shrugged dismissively.

"But we've all gotten used to our abilities, you're still learning. And it sounds like your learning from a complete stranger, which I don't really like the idea of..." Derek mumbled the last part, but Stiles still heard it.

"She's the only one that is helping me. She's not limited like Deaton is. She's taught me so much about the different types of power. Deaton wouldn't even tell me about the fourth type. I text him asking about it a little bit, but he was very dismissive. Bonnie explained everything to me," Stiles snapped.

"What fourth type?" Derek frowned. He wasn't as familiar with the different types of magic.

"It's called blood magic. It's...a darker type. It's also more dangerous," Stiles answered vaguely. He didn't want Derek to know he had used it a few times.

"Dangerous how?" Derek pressed, leaning against the railing.

"It just kind of takes a toll on the user," Stiles again, answered vaguely. "My point is, even if I'm not gonna use it, I'd like to know about it. And how to counter it. Did you know there are defensive spells I can use during a fight? It's hard to practice cause I don't have anyone to square with but I think it would really come in handy. Especially against Deucalion."

"Why don't we practice tomorrow? I can throw a few punches for you to counter if you think it'll help," Derek offered. He was willing to do anything to help Stiles. He thought it would be the best way to get him to agree to be his emissary as well. He just worried that Stiles didn't want to.

"You'd do that?" Stiles didn't know why he was surprised. Derek had helped him with his magic the past few days.

"Yeah, like you said, it would be helpful against Deucalion."

"You're taking this surprisingly well," Stiles looked at Derek carefully, gauging his reaction.

"How should I be taking it?"

Stiles hated how controlled Derek kept his expressions, it made him impossible to read.

"I just figured...you'd be...distant," Stiles hesitated for lack of better a word.