triskehale | closed; thomas

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closed,
thomas

closed; thomas

Truthfully, Derek doesn't how good of an idea it is to spend so much time with Thomas. It seems like sort of a dangerous, painful road to go down, but then again, Derek isn't known for his fantastic decision making skills.

Thomas is so different that Stiles in so many ways, and Derek likes him for the person that he is dependent of what he looks like, but sometimes Derek looks at him and forgets that he can't reach out and touch him, pull him in. It's confusing, and painful, but Derek pushes past it. Thomas deserves better than to be brushed aside because he looks like the person that Derek was in love with, and he can handle it.

Derek gets up early on Friday morning and puts on running pants and a white tank, and then feeds his cat before pulling on his sneakers. He grabs two protein bars and two bottles of water, throwing them in a plastic bag before heading out the door. He makes it to the Bramford building in no time flat, not even working up a sweat. Once inside, he takes the stairs and then lets out a breath before stepping up to Thomas' door and knocking on it.

This will be fine. Totally, completely fine.

Probably.

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"I was born a wolf," Derek explains calmly, glad that Thomas is at least staying to hear him out. "Wolves can be made, but I'm not sure what WICKED is. Not in that context, at least."

Thomas says it like it's a thing, an entity, rather than an adjective, and Derek isn't sure what to say. He swallows hard and waits patiently, letting Thomas try to process it. "I just wanted you to know. I can show you, if you want."

"Show me?" Thomas repeated, swallowing thickly. He wanted to believe Derek, wanted to think he had no idea who WICKED was but that suspicion had snaked its way around his spine, squeezing until Thomas bent over, hands on his knees.

"I -- " He didn't know what to say to that offer. He wanted to see. He did. But he didn't. There were so many questions rattling around his head. "You...all right."

He needed to see. Derek had trusted him with his secret so Thomas wasn't going to run. He'd listen, he'd see and then he'd decide. "Show me," he requested quietly.

When Thomas bends over, Derek wants to reach out but he knows that wouldn't be the best idea. Instead he just waits for Thomas to ready, and he looks at him earnestly. "Just remember, I'm not going to hurt you, okay?"

He waits a beat and then lets his irises go red, and then holds out his hands so Thomas can see as his nails grow into sharp claws. Then he slowly opens his mouth, letting his fangs extend. He lets the change stop there for now, one step at a time. He looks at Thomas calmly, watching him with glowing red eyes.

"I'm still me," Derek tells him, words slightly muffled by his fangs. "There's just more to me than you thought."

"Shuck me," Thomas whispered, sound both awed and shocked all at once. Seeing the change actually happening in front of him leaves him wide eyed and open mouthed, breath puffing out in short, stilted exhales.

Thomas wondered if it hurt, how Derek was changing. He wondered how someone could be born like this and not created. And he wondered if Derek was telling the truth when he'd told Thomas that he wasn't going to hurt him.

Thomas swallowed again and steadied himself, hands at his sides and eyes glued to Derek's transformation.

Derek can't help but to smile a little at the slang, and he watches Thomas curiously as he looks him over. "This is just the first phase. There are two more. Just remember, you're safe."

He takes a breath and then lets the beta shift come over him, feeling his brow rippling and hair sprouting along his jaw. He stays as calm as possible to reassure Thomas, blinking a few times and looking at him. "This is called beta shift, and it's all that most werewolves can do, where I'm from at least."

Derek hopes that by being calm and taking to Thomas while in this form, it'll help him realize that this is still him under the fangs and fur. "But I'm an alpha, so I can take it one step further. I can take the form of an actual wolf."

If it's at all possible, Thomas's eyes widened even further. He can't help but think of the Grievers and the disgusting arms that grew from their blubbery bodies. The difference is that he'd never seen the Grievers change. They'd just been grotesque masses of rippling flesh, hell bent on killing anyone they came into contact with.

Derek was talking to him, reassuring him and while the claws looked dangerous, Derek wasn't making any move to lunge towards him.

"Alpha?" he repeated, looking up at Derek in both wonder and trepidation. "Are you gonna do that too?"

Curiosity gnawed at him and he found he wanted to see it all.

For a moment, Derek swears that Thomas looks at him as if he were a monster. It cuts Derek deeply for some reason and he swallows hard, letting the shift fade away until he's back to looking like a human, eyes pale and hazel and fingertips blunt.

"I can," Derek says quietly, looking back at Thomas with a furrowed brow. He seems more curious than anything, which is better then him running away in fear. Still, he doesn't know how Thomas feels about it all, or if they'll still be friends after this.

He takes a breath and slides off of the rock, pulling his tank off and laying it down on the rock. After that, he toes off his shoes and puts his socks in them, setting them next to his shirt. All that's left now are his pants and underwear, and he hooks a thumb back towards a taller rock before looking at Thomas. "I'll come out from there."

Derek goes behind the rock and sheds the rest of his clothing before taking a deep breath and shifting completely. His paws dig into the sand and he steps out from behind the rock as a big black wolf, eyes glowing red as he shakes out his thick fur.

He pads over to Thomas and stops a few feet away, sitting down on his haunches and thumping his tail against the sand once, watching him curiously.

If Thomas hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed that the wolf in front of him was actually Derek. Thomas hadn't laid eyes on many (or any) wolves that he could remember but he retained the knowledge of what they should look like and his mental image matched pretty closely to what Derek looked like right now.

"You're still shucking big," he noted, licking his dry lips and taking a few tentative steps closer. He had to trust Derek here and believe that he wouldn't get hurt. Derek wasn't a Griever. His sole aim in life wasn't to kill. If Derek had wanted to hurt him, Thomas knew he'd be dead by now. He couldn't fight Derek off in human form let alone as wolf. "Show off."

The light teasing slips out before he could stop it but Thomas didn't care. He was closer to Derek now, able to see the thick fur up close and how red his eyes were. "Wow, man. That's...that's intense."

Derek lets out a huff at the teasing, but it does make him relax a little. Thomas comes closer and Derek doesn't move at first, not wanting to spook him, but then once he's close enough Derek leans forward and presses his head up under Thomas' hand.

There's that deja vu again, that momentary ache, but he ignores it. He lets Thomas feel the softness of his fur and see for himself that Derek isn't going to hurt him.

Thomas's questions wanted to fly out of him. He wanted to pepper Derek with inquiries about the hows and whys and whats that he knew Derek would both tolerate and then answer.

But, he saved those questions for later. Even if Derek could answer in his current form, Thomas found that he didn't want to break the strange quiet that had enveloped the two of them. It was easier not to think too much about this, to inhale deeply and push down any lingering feelings of suspicion and paranoia that this was all a WICKED machination.

He closed his eyes and let himself feel. The fur was softer than he would have expected and Thomas curled his fingers against the soft hair, scratching Derek's head and then stepping closer to move his fingers down his neck. He could feel the strength there and knew that, if someone crossed Derek in this form, they'd regret it.

It's strange to have Thomas' fingers in his fur. He doesn't really let people touch him like this. Kate and Allison mostly, and Neil the one time. This feels personal and intimate and the thing is, he knows what it feels like to have those fingers twisting into his fur. For a brief moment, it's almost too much. He almost pulls away from Thomas' touch because he wants more of it, doesn't want it to stop, and part of that terrifies him.

But he takes a breath and lets Thomas satisfy his curiosity, keeping his chin tucked so Thomas can't touch the vulnerable inside of neck. He turns his head to press his cold, wet nose to the inside of Thomas' wrist, scenting him a little. It's so different than Stiles, and he takes comfort in that.

He can sense Thomas relaxing incrementally and Derek lets out another huff, ears perking up in the cool breeze.

Thomas kept his fingers in Derek's fur, watching his pale skin disappear into Derek's black fur before reappearing again. He sighed and closed his eyes again. The tension in his shoulders bled away and the doubt and fear he'd initially experienced released its hold on Thomas's emotions.

"Sorry for how I reacted when you told me," Thomas said apologetically. "You told me about this but I guess I wasn't really prepared."

Thomas couldn't be sure if Derek was with WICKED, if this was all part of a Trial that would soon turn deadly, but he did know that Derek had trusted him with this and Thomas was touched by that.

He isn't expecting the apology and he cocks his head slightly, looking up at him. It was a fair response, Derek supposes, and he doesn't hold it against Thomas. He just gets up and butts his head against Thomas' hip, circling around his leg once before heading back behind the rock and out of view.

It could have gone a lot worse, he thinks as he shifts back and rolls his shoulders, looking out at the waves as he takes a breath. He pulls on his underwear and then his pants, and he steps out from behind the rock and gives Thomas a tentative smile. The wind ruffles his hair, feeling cool on the bare skin of his chest and back, and he comes back over to sit back on the rock again.

"That's about it," Derek says after a moment, looking Thomas over. "You can ask questions. I'm sure you have some."

Yeah, he had a few. Or about a thousand. He probably wouldn't ask Derek each and every question that was running through his head. Maybe over time, if Derek was amiable, he'd ask. For now, he was going to try and ask the questions that he was most curious about.

"Does it -- " He stuttered and trailed off, looking Derek up and down like he'd be able to see traces of the wolf he'd just been. "Does it hurt at all? When you change like that?"

"Not really," Derek answers, a bit surprised that Thomas' first question was about his well being. And that isn't due to Thomas himself, but more that Derek still isn't quite used to anyone putting him first. "The full shift sort of twinges a bit, but only for a few seconds. The rest of it--"

He holds out his hand and extends his claws, offering his hand to Thomas so that he can see them. "It feels sort of like scratching an itch, or stretching a muscle. It's easy."

Thomas took a step closer and actually reached out to gently touch his fingertips to the ends of Derek's claws. He'd never seen anything like them before. In the Maze, the Grievers weapons consisted of syringes, saws and their own girth. Nothing that felt this real, this alive.

"What's the difference between being an alpha and the other one, the beta?" he asked, pulling his fingers back after a moment.

Derek's breath catches when Thomas touches his claws, surprised by the actual contact. It makes him feel like maybe Thomas doesn't think he's a monster. He doesn't want Thomas to look at him like a Griever, or something meant to torture him inside that maze.

"This would all make a lot more sense if you knew anything about the hierarchy of wolves," Derek says with a soft chuckle, watching Thomas' fingers glide over his claws with something like fascination. When Thomas pulls his hand away, Derek drops his and lets his claws retract. "They travel in packs, usually. An alpha is a pack leader, and betas make up the rest of the pack."

Derek turns on the rock, twisting so that Thomas can see the triskele tattooed between his shoulder blades. "Werewolves are like that. This was my pack's symbol."

There were a lot of emotions roiling around in Thomas's gut right now. Fascination, astonishment, curiosity and concern tumbled around and meshed together, making it impossible for Thomas to really know what he was feeling.

He knew this: none of it was bad. He'd been frightened at first, too caught up in his own memories to see Derek for something different. And he was. He was something different. He was something completely unfamiliar. Something new.

Thomas wasn't going to let the Maze make him afraid of someone like Derek.

Thomas leaned forward, peering closely at the tattoo's lines and curves. He memorized, made sure he wouldn't forget that symbol even if someone wiped his memories again. "Do you have a pack here?"

Derek turns around and looks up at Thomas before shaking his head sadly. There's this hollow in his chest where pack should be, and he feels it every single day.

"No, I don't," he says quietly. "I have people who I care for as if they were pack, but nothing official."

His friends are incredibly important to him. He'd protect them with his life and there are some that, if they asked, he would accept readily into his pack. Derek doesn't think highly enough of himself as an alpha to ask for that, not of anyone else.

The fear and adrenaline that Thomas was feeling have faded so much that Derek can barely smell them anymore, and he's glad for that. Relief sweeps through him and he gives Thomas a small, but genuine smile.

Thomas smiled gratefully in return. The embarrassment over reacting badly would take some time to fade but it didn't seem like Derek was holding that against him. It would have been easy for him to do that, to just walk off after how he'd reacted earlier but Derek had stayed and Thomas was genuinely glad for that.

"Can I ask..." He trailed off again, unsure if this question would be a little too personal. If it was, he hoped Derek knew he didn't have to answer. "How are you born like this? Does that mean your parents were like you too?"

"They were," Derek says quietly. It's hard to talk about his family, but he's proud of where he came from. "My whole family was, aside from my aunt and two cousins."

He wouldn't have told Thomas the truth if he wasn't prepared for questions. He's heard them all, in some way or another, and Thomas hasn't done anything yet that has offended Derek. He reacted about as well as could be expected. Better, even. Derek feels himself relaxing slightly, watching Thomas as the sun warms his bare shoulders. "Wolves are born, or they're made with a bite from an alpha."

"A bite?"

For some reason, Thomas doesn't think Derek just means a gentle nip on the finger either. The fangs he'd seen when Derek had changed looked like they could saw through a shucking tree if it was needed.

"So, if you wanted to, you could bite someone and change them?" That seemed to be how it worked but Thomas's head was such a mess that he could have been reading it all wrong. "If that's how it works, why would you bite someone? Self defense?"

"If I was trying to defend myself, I wouldn't want to make my opponent faster and stronger," Derek says with a huff of laughter. "But yes, I could bite someone and make them a wolf. It's not something that I would do without consent and a lot of serious thought."

He thinks of Victoria with some regret, but that was different. She was attacking him while he was half out of his mind with wolfsbane and it wasn't just his life on the line, but Scott's as well. He panicked.

"See, the way I was raised-- the bite was a good thing. Being a wolf was a good thing. It was like a gift," Derek explains, trying hard to keep his voice from wavering. "Not everyone thinks that way, of course."

Thomas licked his dry lips again, pondering Derek's words as he did. Until Derek had explained it, Thomas had found himself wondering if being a wolf was something that had been foisted onto Derek without any input from him. He'd been born into that life and it wasn't like he could just find a doctor to reverse it.

The fact that Derek thought of his ability as a gift forced Thomas to change his thinking. He imagined the possibilities of someone like Derek being alive where he'd come from. How WICKED wouldn't have been able to stop someone like that and would have tried to harness his ability rather than let him live freely.

He shivered at the thought. No one deserved to be caught up with WICKED. "You still think it's a gift?"

There seemed to be some past tense in Derek's words but he couldn't be sure without asking.

"Yes," Derek says, but only after he thinks about it for a long moment. This isn't a subject that he talks about too much, and every word feels heavy on his tongue. "But being werewolves is what got my family killed."

It's not their fault that they're dead, but it's why they were targeted. Derek swallows hard and looks out at the surf rather than Thomas' face. "There were those back home that thought we deserved to be hunted down like animals, and it didn't matter that we lived in peace. We were werewolves, and so we needed to die. Most of us did."

After a long moment, he looks back over at Thomas. His expression is one full of sorrow, but it's resolute as well. "But just because someone doesn't understand it doesn't mean that it isn't a gift."

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