[ When the collected teenagers don't come up with anything, both Scott and Lydia becoming panicked in their own ways while Isaac prods at Stiles with one of his pens, Derek rubs at his temple and tries to assess what he's being told. "Does anything seem off?" The room smells like cloves and herbs. "What kind?" Holly, maybe. "Probably a minor spell."
He stares at Stiles some more where he's been oddly positioned (for Stiles, anyways), brow furrowed as he tries not to sigh in exasperation. But after that, it's more than a little horrifying as he's led to a conclusion that he doesn't really want to confront.
Really, they could just let Stiles sleep for a while. It seems to be a dreamless sleep, for as bizarre as it is to not see Stiles sprawled in a strange position or drooling on himself. It's always been that, or Stiles jumping awake before he even gets a chance to fall into what had once been normal for him. Not that he can blame him, considering he's spent a solid decade barely sleeping, waking up with ash and blood at the back of his tongue.
So he hangs up with a laughing cat, tucking his phone away as he comes into the room and rubs his hands together to try and think of how to address this. ]
We have two options: let him sleep while Deaton tries to concoct something, or try kissing him awake. It's a sleeping spell of some kind, either witch or fae. So...
[ when lydia got called at six in the morning, she was almost positive that no one was dying, and ergo, she would have known before anyone, scott, so clearly, he needs to go back to bed and stop being delusional.
lo and behold, it was stiles, who wasn't in fact dying, but was acting like sleeping beauty.
she'd come to have at least some form of affection for stiles--it was obvious they were kind of tied together at this point, emotional tethers. romantically, though? it was a long shot. lydia wasn't really interested in him, and she had the feeling that he probably wasn't in her, either, but from where she was sitting in that room, when derek came in (and scott freaked out--kissing him awake?!) it seemed like the only option. ]
Fine. [ she gets up and brushes off her skirt, leans over his sleeping face. the bags under stiles' eyes are diminishing, at least a little, and she looks him up and down, then brushes his hair a little out of his face, feeling her heartbeat jump, practically irationally. they were starting to get good at this kissing for life saving thing.
but when she leans over and presses her lips to stiles', nothing happens.
brows pinching, the redhead steps back, eyeballs stiles, and then looks straight at derek, not even trying to be subtle. someone needs to be direct around here, after all.] Clearly, not happening, because I give perfect wake up calls. Maybe someone else should do it.
[ After everything that's happened, Derek can't exactly blame Scott for his amplified concerns. They've lost Stiles quite a few times, and have lost too many lives permanently (Erica, Boyd, Allison) to really sit comfortably. Not that he's knocking Lydia's ability to sense death, to foretell it, but at this point he's going to stick with being too careful instead of not careful enough.
Pursing his lips as he watches Lydia move towards Stiles, the werewolf tries to ignore the way that he wants to bristle as she leans over him. Scott doesn't notice, considering he's holding his breath with the hope that maybe whatever is between his friend and his old crush is enough, and though he's pretty sure that Isaac does-- his sideeye is familiar, at least-- at least the younger wolf stays quiet. It's something that he's pretended wasn't there, because Stiles has enough problems in his life.
He really doesn't need Derek even more a part of it.
But then Lydia hones in on him immediately when Stiles doesn't wake up, and he clears his throat a little. Before Scott can launch forward, give it a shot just because he saw that Frozen movie, okay, he lifts his hand up and stops him.
Wordlessly, he steps forward and towards Lydia, jaw tightening briefly before he moves to take her place. A part of him hopes that it doesn't work, terrified of what it'd mean if it did, but he still leans over Stiles and takes his chin gently in his fingers, bowing forward to kiss him carefully. ]
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He stares at Stiles some more where he's been oddly positioned (for Stiles, anyways), brow furrowed as he tries not to sigh in exasperation. But after that, it's more than a little horrifying as he's led to a conclusion that he doesn't really want to confront.
Really, they could just let Stiles sleep for a while. It seems to be a dreamless sleep, for as bizarre as it is to not see Stiles sprawled in a strange position or drooling on himself. It's always been that, or Stiles jumping awake before he even gets a chance to fall into what had once been normal for him. Not that he can blame him, considering he's spent a solid decade barely sleeping, waking up with ash and blood at the back of his tongue.
So he hangs up with a laughing cat, tucking his phone away as he comes into the room and rubs his hands together to try and think of how to address this. ]
We have two options: let him sleep while Deaton tries to concoct something, or try kissing him awake. It's a sleeping spell of some kind, either witch or fae. So...
[ Where to start. ]
no subject
lo and behold, it was stiles, who wasn't in fact dying, but was acting like sleeping beauty.
she'd come to have at least some form of affection for stiles--it was obvious they were kind of tied together at this point, emotional tethers. romantically, though? it was a long shot. lydia wasn't really interested in him, and she had the feeling that he probably wasn't in her, either, but from where she was sitting in that room, when derek came in (and scott freaked out--kissing him awake?!) it seemed like the only option. ]
Fine. [ she gets up and brushes off her skirt, leans over his sleeping face. the bags under stiles' eyes are diminishing, at least a little, and she looks him up and down, then brushes his hair a little out of his face, feeling her heartbeat jump, practically irationally. they were starting to get good at this kissing for life saving thing.
but when she leans over and presses her lips to stiles', nothing happens.
brows pinching, the redhead steps back, eyeballs stiles, and then looks straight at derek, not even trying to be subtle. someone needs to be direct around here, after all.] Clearly, not happening, because I give perfect wake up calls. Maybe someone else should do it.
[ laser stare ]
no subject
Pursing his lips as he watches Lydia move towards Stiles, the werewolf tries to ignore the way that he wants to bristle as she leans over him. Scott doesn't notice, considering he's holding his breath with the hope that maybe whatever is between his friend and his old crush is enough, and though he's pretty sure that Isaac does-- his sideeye is familiar, at least-- at least the younger wolf stays quiet. It's something that he's pretended wasn't there, because Stiles has enough problems in his life.
He really doesn't need Derek even more a part of it.
But then Lydia hones in on him immediately when Stiles doesn't wake up, and he clears his throat a little. Before Scott can launch forward, give it a shot just because he saw that Frozen movie, okay, he lifts his hand up and stops him.
Wordlessly, he steps forward and towards Lydia, jaw tightening briefly before he moves to take her place. A part of him hopes that it doesn't work, terrified of what it'd mean if it did, but he still leans over Stiles and takes his chin gently in his fingers, bowing forward to kiss him carefully. ]