Monster. (Sterek)

Part 8: Weakened Strengths.

*****

After their conversation yesterday Lydia had gone home to do some extra research. She had suggested Stiles try to get a good night's sleep before today and, despite Stiles protests that vampire "don't need to sleep that much,'' Derek had agreed. Derek had stayed over to make sure that Stiles did actually sleep. Although, Stiles was fairly sure that that was not the real reason. Not that he could think up any other, rational, reason.

After Lydia had arrived she had given them a quick rundown of what her plan for the day was and then had ushered them into the bathroom where they all now stood.

Stiles stared at his own reflection, then let his eyes flick over to Derek's who was smirking slightly, then Lydia's who offered him a small smile before crossing off "can't see reflection" on her list and looking up.

"This one's not very helpful." When both Derek and Stiles gave her a raised eyebrow she elaborated, "They used to make mirrors with silver, a well-known weakness to most if not all supernatural creatures. That's why vampires used to not be able to see themselves, with the exception of the strongest type of vampires." She gestured to the book that lay open next to the sink, "They tend not to use silver any more." Stiles nodded, interested to finally find some logic behind the legend.

"So, what was the point? Why don't we find something that does have silver in it?" Stiles asks despite already knowing the answer. None of them wanted to run any of the other tests; they all knew that it would not be pleasant.

"Well, I do have something that might work but I didn't bring it. Also, I was curious." Lydia smirked and then leaned closer to the mirror to fix her eyebrow before turning back to Stiles and Derek to lead them back out and into Stiles' room.

Stiles immediately moved to sit down on his bed. They had several different weaknesses that they would have to run through to not only figure out how to help Stiles but also to know what he should stay away from. Lydia had made it a point to note that this was something he should've already done. Stiles had told her that he had just planned on staying away from anything that could potentially hurt him, which was ridiculous as he could've accidentally stumbled upon something. Stiles knew that but he also knew that testing it out could hurt like hell. He didn't want to go through that.

Not that that mattered though, as he was about to nonetheless. "Since we already know you can enter houses without permission, we can cross that off." Stiles let his head drop into his hands, Lydia may be acting like she was calm and collected but Stiles knew otherwise. Even if he couldn't smell her worry, which he could, he knew her too well for her facade of collected-calm to fool him, but she was trying, for him. It made his heart leap... well, it would have.

Stiles felt the bed dip next to him, a hand placed carefully on his lower back and then Derek lowered his forehead to Stiles' shoulder to rest it there. Stiles leaned into the touch and let out a small sigh, "What's next?" he pressed out through his teeth – teeth that were beginning to feel too sharp.

"Garlic." Stiles' head snapped up, his eyes landing on Lydia. Pressing his lips together, he reminded himself that she was helping him. Then he noticed the slight sting in his lip, his teeth were definitely too sharp, he winced.

"Stiles, you don't have to do this, we can keep looking. Maybe find something that just helps you age?" Derek breathed, almost as if afraid Stiles would break, but as much as Stiles didn't want to test all the theories on Lydia's list, he didn't want to be a vampire more. He may have come to terms with it, made peace with what he was but that didn't stop him from not wanting this. And the cool press of now needle-like teeth against his lip was just a reminder of that. As was the tugging in his chest and the loud pounding of blood that had begun to thrum in his sensitive ears.

All of his instincts were, once again, telling him he needed to feed and that he had two perfect food sources in his room. Although one was leaving to go and get garlic from the kitchen without noticing his predicament, luckily. Yet that just seemed to make it worse. A small voice at the back of his head told him to follow her, his prey was escaping and he needed to catch up now! And if he didn't he would feed on Derek, and, the voice went on to tell him, he could not do that. He was not allowed to but if Derek was the only source of blood then it was better than the shit he kept under his bed.

No, this was why he had to do this, this was why he could not stay a vampire. He didn't stop to think about why his instincts told him Lydia, escaping food, would be better than the werewolf that had his neck exposed to him. Instead, he gently pushed Derek off him and when Derek looked up, he pulled back. The movement was so quick that it sent a pulse of he's going to run, catch him through his hunger-fueled thoughts. He swore he used to be better at keeping track of when he was going to be hungry before Derek found out.

Then he realised that Derek was watching him with careful eyes, trying not to let his shock show through his mask, "Stiles?" In answer Stiles sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, getting no satisfaction from the feeling. Good, he reached under his bed and pulled out the cooler to allow himself to feed. To his surprise and trepidation, Derek moved closer again and helped him when his fingers fumbled the latch that kept the box closed. "It's alright, Stiles." The quiet voice was back though, this time it was not to avoid breaking him but to help hold him together. So Stiles pulled away and let Derek help.

Derek picked out a bag of deer and reached up to pull Stiles' lip free of his teeth. Stiles took in a sharp breath – an odd feeling when you don't really need to breathe – and shut his eyes so as not to focus on how close Derek's pulsing wrist was to his face. Then a cool bag was pressed to his lips, forcing his eyes open. He sank his teeth into the bag, cringing at the plastic but moaning at the taste of blood. That was another thing he hated: he loved blood. He loved the taste and the feel of it sliding down his throat and the small drops that collected at the corners of his mouth. He hated that he loved it, despised the fact, even.

He wrapped his fingers around Derek's wrist, keeping him in place, though Derek didn't try to pull away. When Stiles' eyes met Derek's there was no fear, no hate, no confusion just a pure sweet understanding, fascination and something else that Stiles knew wasn't negative but didn't know exactly how to describe. They didn't break eye contact until Stiles senses kicked back into gear and he noticed Lydia standing in the doorway with a smirk.

He blinked and pulled Derek's hands away, pressing his thumb over the holes and coughing slightly. "Don't let me interrupt." Stiles gave her a weak smile, "I'll be back in a few." She disappeared around the corner and Stiles turned back to a slightly red Derek. Stiles ran the thumb of his free hand over the slowly disappearing heat before he knew what he was doing, it made Derek blink and shake his head.

"Sorry," he pulled his hand back, out from Stiles' grip and tore his gaze away.

Stiles frowned, "Dude, calm down, you have nothing to be sorry for." Apart from making Stiles even more sure about his feelings for Derek.

He went back to the blood as much out of need for sustenance as out of need of a distraction. Despite Derek's now apparent awkwardness, he kept his eyes trained on Stiles, watching his every move up until he pulled out a second bag and drained half of it before taping it up and putting it, and the cooler, away.

Before the tension between the two could grow any further Lydia reappeared, a knowing smile tugging at her lips as her eyes flew between them. Then, she shook her head and held up an old, half-used bulb of garlic. "I found this in your fridge, you should clean it out more often." She tutted but her features showed no judgement, she knew that Stiles had more important things to think about than fridge cleanliness. "So, you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."