Pizza had arrived and mostly been consumed by the time Stiles had a chance to talk to Scott alone. Scott very unsubtly dragged him outside to throw some of the used pizza boxes in the trash and he went willingly.

"You're really okay?" Scott asked him quietly even though they were far enough away that even werewolf ears probably couldn't hear them.

It was just like Scott to still be worried.

"Yeah," he replied, "I really am. This is nothing I ever imagined, but, sue me, I like it."

At that there was the barest hint of a smile on his friend's face.

"It kind of rush having powers isn't it," Scott said.

"Hell yes," he replied and grinned.

"You always did want to be a superhero," Scott teased.

"Hey, I was," he protested, "but before I was Batman and now I'm Doctor Strange."

Scott almost rolled his eyes, but there was no way Stiles was ever giving up the pop-culture references.

"And you weren't kidding when you told me sex was awesome," he added; "I have never been so strung out in my life. Man, it was epic."

Normally Scott would either have agreed with him or asked him bluntly to shut up, but instead he saw Scott grimace. Then he remembered why.

"Um, yeah, so sorry for laughing before," he apologised, "but it was that or have an epic freak out."

"It's okay," Scott told him, something wistful in his expression.

"So, I'm okay," Stiles said, "but are you? You've got that look in your eye again, like the summer."

The fact Scott didn't just say yes set off alarm bells in Stiles' head.

"Talk to me, man," he encouraged.

"Not here," Scott replied; "werewolf ears."

That had to be just an excuse, but Stiles knew all about needing time to process.

"But later?" he pushed, because he could see Scott needed to tell him something even if it wasn't right then.

Scott nodded and he reached out and placed a hand on Scott's arm in support.

"Us against the world," he said in what he hoped was an encouraging tone.

That actually drew a small smile out of Scott and a nod.

"Us against the world," Scott affirmed and it was settled.

~*~

The pack was mellow for a couple of hours lounging around Derek's loft, talking and simply bonding. There was a lot of touching going on, just small, innocent brushed between members, but it spoke volumes. Things had shifted, that much was obvious, and Stiles could tell it was going to take a while to get used to it. However, there was someone else who needed an explanation, which was why he and Derek left everyone else to clear up and headed out very late afternoon.

"Ready for this?" Stiles asked, looking at Derek before he opened the door of the SUV.

"As I'll ever be," Derek replied, but gave him a tiny smile, which for Derek was huge.

He had texted his dad to tell him they were coming over and Stiles could only pray his father was not polishing his gun.

"Hey, Dad," he said as soon as he entered the house and found his father standing in the hallway, "can we agree on one rule, no shooting Derek."

His dad was not in uniform, but his gun was casually sitting on the side table. The gun was never left lying around unless his dad was trying to make a point.

"Why, has he done something that deserves a bullet?" his dad said.

"Nope," Stiles said very quickly, but made sure he was between his dad and Derek anyway.

After all his dad was well aware that a normal bullet wouldn't kill Derek and Stiles was pretty sure his dad wouldn't have loaded with wolfsbane bullets even though Chris had given him some, but his dad did seem to be stuck on the fact he was only just about to turn seventeen.

"Can we, like, move into the living room?" he asked hopefully.

His dad was still stony faced, but turned and walked towards the chairs.

"None of this is Derek's fault, Dad, no matter what you're thinking, it's mine," Stiles decided to jump in with both feet.

"You're a sixteen year old boy," his father replied.

"No, no, Dad, I'm not," he said before his dad could go on. "Firstly I'm seventeen in a couple of days and secondly I haven't been a boy in a while, not since people started showing up dead all over town and I ended up in the middle of it. If that isn't enough for you, I'm a white wolf, Dad. Look at me."

He let the magic inside him out to play a little and he knew his eyes would be glowing.

"Derek helped me when no one else could," he went on.

There was a lot more he could say, in fact there were words backing up in his brain, but he held on to them. If he started rambling his dad would stop listening and that was the last thing he wanted.

"And you," his dad said, looking to where Derek was standing at Stiles' shoulder, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Stiles is my mate, Sir," Derek said in his usual stoic tone; "wolves mate for life."

From the expression on his dad's face, Stiles wasn't sure if that had been the right or the wrong thing to say.

"Why Stiles?" his dad asked.

"Thanks," he said, feeling just a little insulted.

"This isn't about you, kid," his dad told him; "you're six..." he glared, "seventeen," his dad corrected, "and Derek is a lot older than you. No matter what you think the age gap creates issues. I don't care what you are, I will not have you in a relationship with an older man where you won't be happy."

"I find his annoying habit of talking all the time endearing," Derek surprised him by speaking up, "The way he can focus on a subject and run with it until he knows everything there is to know is amazing. He sees things in a way no one else can and shares his insights like they're nothing special. He's so brave it's frightening. He's loyal to his friends and takes no shit from anyone who crosses him. He's independent, caring and has a pathological need to fix things. He's been trying to fix me almost since the day I met him when he didn't even like me and I think he might actually have succeeded."

Stiles stood there with his mouth open; he had never expected Derek to say anything like that.

"You really are in love with my son," his dad said.

"Yes, Sir, I am," Derek replied, "and I have been since the day he trod water for hours holding me up in a swimming pool while I was paralysed from the neck down."

"Really?" Stiles asked, somewhat astonished.

Derek nodded at him. When he looked back at his dad some of the tension had gone out of the Sheriff's stance. He was amazed; it actually seemed to be working. He was amazed for other reasons too, but if he thought about those he wasn't sure he could be coherent, so he put them to the back of his mind.

"And you, Stiles?" his dad asked.

"Had a thing for Derek for a while, was just too Lydia-centric to notice," he replied perfectly honestly, "and if I start telling you why we'll both be embarrassed, and I might never stop talking."

His thoughts were going in too many directions and he knew he would start rambling if given the chance; either that or have a panic attack, which so didn't sound like fun.

"You're sure?" his dad asked.

"Yes, Dad, I'm sure," he replied. "It's like," he had to pause to force his brain to stay on topic; "it's like I found the secret level and all the treasure is mine."

It was a horrible analogy, but it was the best he could do.

When his dad stepped towards him still stony faced he wasn't sure what to do. He was too on edge to read any of the subtle signals his dad had to be giving off, so he just stood there. When his dad grabbed him and pulled him in for a hug he actually sagged in relief.

"I just need to make sure you're happy," his dad said into his shoulder and relief so intense flooded through Stiles that he thought his legs might give out.

That was probably why it took him a second of so to realise that he felt kind of achy, especially in his right shoulder area. It was so sudden that it confused him. It affected his magic too, because he felt that rise again and it was as if a wave of gentle heat passed through him and into his dad. It made him feel floaty and light.

"What the hell?" he heard Derek say and he snapped back to reality.

He stepped back from his dad, looking for whatever Derek was talking about. That was when he realised that both his dad and Derek were looking at him.

"Um, what?" he asked.

"You glowed," Derek said.

"I did?" he asked and looked down at himself; he had no idea what had just happened.

Glowing was definitely not a normal reaction. That was when his dad reached out towards him in a comforting gesture and stopped half way.

"What?" he asked, checking, but he couldn't see any more glowing.

"My shoulder," his dad said, lifting the outstretched arm further and then swinging it backwards; "it doesn't hurt anymore."

Ever since Miss Blake has stabbed his dad, Stiles knew the wound, although not serious, had been giving his father trouble. The fact his own shoulder was hurting immediately set off a siren in his head and he grabbed the neck of his shirt, pulling it aside before he thought about it. There, where nothing should have been, was a pink scar and as he watched it faded.

"Oh shit," he said as he kind of panicked.

His dad caught on and did the same with his own shirt and there was nothing there, no wound, not even a trace of the old injury. Stiles scrabbled to pull his phone out of his pocket and hit Deaton's number. It probably said a lot that he had the man on speed dial.

"Stiles," Deaton said as soon as he picked up, "how can I help you?"

"I healed my dad," he said in a rush because this was just that one step too far. "I hugged him and I glowed and it hurt and the scar moved to me and then it was gone and I don't know how I did it. It just happened and it wasn't like turning into a wolf where I had to think about it, I didn't even know I was doing it. Why did I do that? How did I do that? You never said this would happen. I don't understand."

Arms came round him from behind.

"Breathe," Derek said, pulling him close, "just breathe."

As Derek held him, he took a huge gasping breath and realised he had been headed for a panic attack. He had managed to cope with everything else, compartmentalising what he still needed to process, but this had finally smashed his control.

"Stiles, there is nothing to worry about," Deaton spoke to him over the phone in his usual calm tones, "it is called sympathetic healing and it is a rare and valuable gift. Magic users often have some part of their power that comes to them instinctively, this is yours."

He took another deep breath.

"But I thought that was the wolf stuff?" he replied and glanced over at his dad who looked like he wanted to reach out too, but didn't want to cause any more problems.

"That is the essence of the power you have been given," Deaton told him, "the healing is the essence of you."

Stiles didn't really know what to say to that.

"You can look on it as a higher level of what the wolves can do," Deaton explained. "They can remove pain and in extreme circumstances an alpha can sacrifice their power to heal a beta as Derek did, but you can heal directly. With practice you should be able to control the ability to a very fine degree."

"But what use is healing?" he asked, mostly because it was the first thing that came into his head. "I run with wolves and they heal themselves."

"There are some things not even a wolf can heal from," Deaton replied and Stiles went cold.

He flashed back to the dream and the shadows that were coming.

"Stiles," Deaton said, "the white wolf chose you, whatever is coming you will help the pack be ready for it. Do not doubt that."

Really he wasn't sure what he had expected, something to do with mountain ash and baseball bats probably, but not this. It was making him rethink and he wasn't good at that when he had focused on a course of action. Only Derek's firm presence behind him kept him grounded.

"Thanks," he told Deaton, "sorry to have bothered you."

"It's no bother, Stiles," Deaton told him. "I am here when you need me. When you are ready come and see me and we will talk about teaching you all you need to know."

"Yeah, okay," he said. "Bye."

He hung up and leaned into Derek.

"Sorry," he apologised to his mate and his father; "I wasn't expecting that."

"What did Alan say?" his dad asked and reminded him that humans didn't have ears as sharp as werewolves.

"How about we have some coffee and I'll explain it all?" he suggested.