The Spark Within (Sterek)

Blood Oath

The car ride to Deaton's was silent. Derek knew if he spoke it would send Stiles reeling and that wouldn't be good for either of them.

"Stiles, glad to see you're up and well." Deaton smiled at the brunette as Stiles and Derek walked in.

"Up, yes. Well, not so much." Stiles sighed.

"What brought him out of It? Was it that anchor you mentioned?" Deaton asked pressing his stethoscope to Stiles' chest.

Derek cleared his throat nervously. "Yes." He knew Stiles would be furious with him.

Stiles tossed a glare at the alpha. But didn't say anything much to Derek's relief.

"Well you're better than you were but this is only going to get worse." Deaton sighed.

"Let me guess, I have to accept my spark." Stiles waved an annoyed hand.

"If you don't it will kill you." Deaton said his tone calm.

"Oh great, just wonderful. I don't even have a say in the matter now." Stiles ran his hands through his hair.

"Just because you accept the spark doesn't mean you have to practice. Once you are familiar with your powers you are free to do with them what you please." Deaton explained.

"How do I accept the damn thing?" Stiles huffed looking at Deaton with tired eyes.

"You must make a blood oath and bear your mark." Deaton answered.

"Blood oath? Bear my mark? What? What does that even mean?" Stiles frowned, his annoyance heightening.

"I'll show you." Deaton pulled out a small wooden box.

Stiles watched as Deaton pulled out a pinch of what looked to be dirt.

"What is that?" Stiles frowned.

"Dirt from the ground of the nemeton." Deaton answered as he grabbed different herbs and powders mixing them all carefully in a beaker of carefully measured water.

"Give me your hand." Deaton said reaching for Stiles. He pricked his finger quickly.

"Ow, okay, warning next time, please." Stiles frowned as Deaton squeezed three drops of his blood into the mixture.

"Drink this." Deaton pushed the beaker towards Stiles.

"You're kidding right?" Stiles scoffed.

"It's your blood oath."

Stiles' nose screwed into a displeased frown. "I thought I'd have to, ya know carve a tree trunk or say a few chants even, not drink a poorly diffused tea made of my blood and dirt."

"It's called a blood oath, Stiles." Derek rolled his eyes.

"Hey, nobody asked you, okay?" Stiles snapped at the bored looking werewolf.

"So I drink this god awful concoction and then what?" Stiles asked hesitantly reaching for the drink.

"That's it." Deaton smiled.

"What do you mean that's it? What about bearing some mark?" Stiles frowned in confusion as he sniffed at the horrible drink in his hand. He grimaced pulling his face away from the beaker.

"It shows up after you drink that." Deaton answered simply.

Stiles put the glass of muddy water down. "Yeah, I'm not drinking this." Stiles' face full of disgust.

"Stiles, do you want to die?" Derek snapped.

"No, but I kind of want to kill-"

"Ah, ah, ah." Deaton interuppted pressing a finger to Stiles' mouth. "Don't finish that sentence or you'll regret it."