Chapter Text
Stiles thought that early mornings were synonymous with staying in bed, to hearing the front door slam after hearing his dad shout up to him he was going to the station. Mornings were all about the slow syrupy feeling of your body and mind coming together as a solid entity when you felt like a puddle in every other way.
Mornings were now about that precious golden five minutes before his alarm went off and reminded him that it was time to get up and go somewhere and get on with his day, especially since he wasn’t technically working. Not working, but definitely training, training at magic stuff that Deaton has finally deemed critical for Stiles to learn. It only took the better part of ten years, an undergrad and a masters degree before he said ‘Mr Stilinski, I think it's time we talked about that spark of yours.’
Two years later and Stiles still doesn’t think he really has a clue about how it works. What is he even doing with himself?
Stiles stares at his ceiling, letting the thoughts of whether he should redecorate his childhood room or just move out run through his mind at will. He’d moved back to Beacon Hills because of his dad, the pack, kaleidoscope green eyes that looked into his very soul. His very bisexually awakened and experienced soul, thank you very much. But being back in his old room just made him feel like he was in high school. Complete with cryptic statements that Deaton loves to give so he would work it all out for himself.
Stiles’s phone rings the sound of his alarm, the rhythm of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s Beat the Devil’s Tattoo at least made Stiles feel like he can move, first in the wriggling of his toes that soon had his body sitting upright and bouncing his head with something to focus on anything other than whatever Deaton called him in for with an unscheduled appointment.
To be honest, whether his spark fully awakens or not doesn’t really bother him. What would it really change? Will it suddenly stop making him a target? Nope, probably not anyway. Will his friends suddenly stop taking his research for granted or like, appreciate that there is more to him than that? Also probably not.
As Stiles moves through his morning routine, he acknowledges that the only person who treats him like his worth has increased, other than Deaton’s occasional praise and surprise, was Derek. They were so close now that Stiles considered him the other best friend at this point. If Stiles chose to bury anything other than friendship, that was his own cross to bear, and bear it he would.
After Stiles had thrown on his normal outerwear, he skipped down the stairs, out the door and hopped right into Roscoe, because this early in the morning was McDonald’s Drive Thru time, and there were about 4 hash browns with Stilinski on them. Not a single one of them was for his dad.
* * * * *
Stiles finds himself looking at the ceiling for the second time in less than an hour of being awake. This was not a normal day off in any way shape or form. Granted, he is receiving lessons about being a druid or a warlock or maybe he is really just being trained as a pack human with an abundance of knowledge.
He thinks that he understands what Deaton is saying, but still, he needs to be clear, because maybe he has some kind of hearing fog going on. Deaton’s mouth is still moving, but Stiles cannot hear anything. He cannot even feel the soft low back of the stool he is sitting back on that he knows is to make sure he never feels too comfortable.
‘I’m sorry, I missed that last bit you just said. Can we go back to the part where you said that you cannot teach me anymore? I need you to back it up and explain for me again, please, doc.’
Deaton smiles and nods, Stiles has trouble sometimes thinking that he was so suspicious of him and yet simultaneously understands why he was, but at least Deaton’s smiles reach the depths of his eyes now, where they always looked cold before.
‘I said that I will not be able to train you because I am no longer the best person to do so. Stiles, do you remember many years ago when I told you that you had a spark inside you? That it was what allowed you to make the mountain ash work the way it did for you? Your spark being dormant is what drew the Nogitsune during that sacrifice ritual I got you, Scott and Allison to do and it’s also what enabled you to keep fighting for as long as you did and ultimately get the upper hand and win. It’s what allows you a keener sixth-sense, like knowing who to trust or who to avoid.
‘Everything I've been teaching you over the last two years was like the foundation part of a course. It provided you with the basic knowledge to do what I do. But we are not the same. Your spark is now fully awakened, sort of like reaching the age of reckoning in some of those texts I made you read in that first month. Except that you are the first spark in the US for over sixty years, and there are precious few records kept by her. She didn’t have a mentor, but a few people wrote a few things about what she was capable of. I know that she was powerful enough that she didn’t need rituals, she was able to just think things into existence, with no impact on the balance of the universe after some time. No known consequences.’
Stiles watches Deaton lean back against the metal desk and cross his arms with a great casual air. He almost looks relaxed, and that worries Stiles.
‘Are… are you saying that I will have the ability to do… anything?’ Stiles forcibly makes himself take a breath in and breathe it slowly back out again. ‘I do not want that, Deaton. That is too much for someone who is ordinary. That is too much-,’Stiles finds himself on his feet and restrains himself from pacing, ‘-can I get rid of it?I mean, you said that with training, I could do anything, right? So please train me, and then I will get rid of it.’
Stiles takes in Deaton’s face, the set of his mouth, no he is not looking frustrated, but the look in his eyes and his silence make Stiles feel like he is sixteen again and that doesn’t sit well on him. It makes him want to shift around a few steps and put a distance between them.
‘Stiles, you can not get rid of the way you were born anymore than you can get rid of your sexual orientation or your ADHD. These things will always be with you, they cannot be erased. Instead, you can learn how to harness it, so that you can't hurt anyone. It could help you. Help your pack. You have access to powers that I have no idea how to train you on. When I say we are not the same, I mean, you can literally tap into everything, with training. The value in that is unbelievable.’
Deaton turned away to rearrange some jars that definitely had nothing to do with running a veterinary practice and everything to do with giving Stiles space. Stiles acknowledged to himself that he would never admit it to anyone, except maybe Derek, but Deaton was particularly good at giving people space to think, just like his sister. If he had decided to work with people in therapy, he would have had a thriving practice. There would also be more people leaving in floods of tears, but hey, what can you do, sometimes healing has to hurt.
Focussing on the situation at hand, Stiles knows that he wouldn’t have even known that he had a spark, if it wasn't for Deaton. He would have lost his friends, his dad and maybe even more several times over if it wasn’t for Deaton. He can be trusted, so those instincts that Deaton was talking about weren’t always accurate. If Deaton is saying he cannot train him further, and freely admitting it, then its true. Deaton can take him no further.
Stiles doesn’t know where that leaves him with this ability that could well be limitless and untameable without a teacher to train him.
‘Okay. So how do I train if you can’t train me? As a druid, do you have more connections to an experienced person who can train me?’
‘I know of someone whose magic is as natural as breathing. She isn’t a spark, she’s something else entirely, very human and also more than that now. She would probably be a good bet. She used to be based here in California, once upon a time, but now she moves around a lot. A kind of magical nomad, if you will. I will reach out to her, see if i can get her to come along this way for a time so you two can meet, see how things go,’ Deaton explained, with a small smile. Stiles wondered if there was actually a friend of Deatons out there in the world, then dismissed it as being ungrateful.
‘And until then? What should I do?’
‘Well Stiles, do you remember what I said to you the first time I gave you mountain ash? About believing? At any point now things may start to happen not just because you believe in them but because you can say something in a moment of despair, you might hope so hard that you make something happen… in fact any strong emotions that you feel could trigger a type of belief in that moment and your spark could decide to act on it.’ Deaton smiles as he aims his next words. ‘Try to be mindful of your thoughts, words and actions.’
‘Wow, Deaton, did you just tell someone with ADHD to be mindful?’ Stiles barked out a laugh.
‘Yes, I know. Remember though, the aim is to minimise incidents that are bound to happen.’ Deaton smiles dryly in response. ‘I’ll let you know when I make contact. But keep practising the techniques we have done so far, and to try and be mindful and present.’
Stiles watches as Deaton wanders off into the cattery, knowing he has been dismissed without a word. Again. He takes in a shuddery breath and tries to turn it into the breathing technique of four/four for a few minutes before casting another look around him.
It was still early, he needed to be around someone who could keep him calm and mindful. Only one person came to mind.