![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Title: frontier [2/?]
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 496 - illuminate
Warnings: Some kind of bastardized western/ABO hybrid AU. (Vaguely inspired by the time period of Hell on Wheels.) Will be Derek/Stiles.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1250
Summary: The rain has yet to let up; Derek and Stiles share a paltry breakfast in the barn.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
-- = --
Derek woke to a goat biting at the sleeve of his shirt. He shooed the animal away and sat up slowly, stretching out his aching muscles. It took a few moments for his senses to fully wake with the rest of him, but he could still hear the rain pattering the roof. And, when he looked across the pen, the boy was gone. His scent lingered so Derek knew he either hadn’t gone far or hadn’t been gone for long.
The goats bleated at Derek as he stood and exited the pen, carefully listening for the boy in the darkness of the barn. Down the center aisle between the stables he could hear the horses whickering and moving amongst the hay. The door opened as he moved towards it revealing a slice of dull gray light from the rainy morning silhouetting the boy as he slipped back inside. Along with the scent of the meandering storm and sweet grass, the gentle breeze carried with it a trace of sunshine and lavender.
With a shiver, the boy pulled the door closed and wiped the rain from his face. There was a small rucksack dangling from his elbow that swung with the movement, wafting the mouthwatering scent of fresh bread. When he caught sight of Derek in the dimness of the barn, he startled and laughed quietly at himself. “It’s not much,” he said, offering the rucksack to Derek. There was another slung over his shoulder from which he pulled a leather water skin. “And water. I talked to Miss Kate. She’d like for you to see her once the rain stops.”
Derek opened the rucksack, revealing four golden biscuits and two small red apples. “Have you eaten yet?”
The boy’s heart tripped a beat. “Yes, sir.”
With a sigh, Derek offered an apple and a biscuit. “Here.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You can. There’s enough for two.” He stretched his hand out a little further.
After a long moment’s hesitation, the boy finally took the food. “Thank you, sir.”
“Derek. My name is Derek.”
“Thank you, Mister Derek,” the boy said.
“Just ‘Derek’ is fine.”
The boy nodded. “Derek.”
“What’s your name?”
“Stiles, sir. Derek.”
“That’s an unusual name,” Derek said, moving back towards the pen and sinking to the floor outside the gate to sit.
Stiles slowly dropped down beside him, curling up around himself a couple of feet away. “Yes, sir. My family is Polish. Miss Kate thought my given name would detract customers. I chose to go by ‘Stiles’ as it is somewhat an abbreviation of my father’s name.”
“I see. Stiles.” Derek found the taste of the boy’s name in his mouth unexpectedly pleasant.
As they sat there eating a shared meager breakfast, the drumming of the rain increased to an awful ruckus. “That’s one heck of a storm,” Stiles commented, tearing a chunk off his biscuit and popping it into his mouth.
“Sure is.”
“Never seen it rain this long. Least, not in these parts.”
“I’d thought I’d be running into snow. I’m not sure if the rain is better or worse.”
“Worse, likely. With this much, there’s bound to be a lot of flooding. It won’t make travel easy.”
“No, I imagine it won’t.”
“Where’re you headed?” Stiles asked, shifting his attention to Derek as he finished the last of his biscuit and started buffing his apple on the damp front of his shirt. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Home, to California.”
Stiles perked up a bit at that, leaned a bit closer, edging into Derek’s space. “California? That’s where my father was headed. My mother was too sick for the journey so we stayed here. Miss Kate took me in when she passed.” His heartbeat fluttered with the grief that muted his scent.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s been nine years, but thank you. Some days I forget what she looked like, but Miss Kate says I’m her spitting image, so.” Stiles shrugged and folded in on himself a bit.
“Where in California was your father going? San Francisco?” The gold rush was long since over, but many still ventured out in the hope of finding an untapped vein.
“No; he was headed to Shasta. He’s a lawman.”
“And he left when?”
“Ten years ago, sir. Derek.”
Derek felt something in his chest constrict at the admission. “Have you heard from him since then?”
Stiles shrugged. “He writes once a year to ask after me. Miss Kate—” He cut himself off, heartbeat increasing from nerves or anxiety judging by the sudden sour notes to his scent.
“Miss Kate?”
“She took care of my mother. Then she took care of me. I’m… paying off a debt. I can leave in a year, or if—” Again, he stopped himself, the scent spiking unpleasantly.
“Stiles?”
“Or if one of her customers chooses to buy me. My mother was… different. And I am, too.”
That strange connection Derek had initially felt to him, that other scent to him Derek couldn’t immediately identify. “She was wolf,” Derek guessed, flashing his crimson eyes.
Stiles’ eyes glinted gold as his breath hitched, then he turned his face away, standing abruptly. “You must go, right away. If Miss Kate learns what you are, she won’t hesitate to kill you.”
Derek stood and followed Stiles as he stalked down the aisle towards the last stall. He recalled the flutter of Stiles’ heart when he talked of his mother’s passing. “Is that what happened to your mother? Did Kate— Is she a Hunter?”
“You need to leave,” Stiles said, slipping the halter onto Derek’s horse.
Derek stilled him with a hand on the back of his neck, mind still trying to process the information he’d been given over the last few moments. “Are you—”
“Wolf?”
“Omega.”
Stiles’ eyes dropped to the ground. “I’m still worth money to her, I’ll be fine. You won’t be. Please go. Please.”
Miss Kate didn’t scare Derek in the slightest—what was one woman against an alpha, especially one that had survived the worst battle of the War? But it was clear Stiles feared her. There was only one thing to do and the decision wasn’t difficult to make. “Gather your things. Quickly.”
Stiles looked up at him with wide, guileless eyes. “What?”
“You’ll come with me. I’ll take you to Shasta, it’s not far from where I’m going.”
Stiles shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You’d rather be sold?”
Scent bitter, Stiles turned his back to Derek. “She’ll find me. She always finds me when I try to run.”
“You won’t be alone this time. I won’t let her hurt you.”
Stiles whirled around and took a step back. “Why? Why would you help me? Because I’m Omega? Do you want to breed me?”
Derek took a step back himself. “No. No, not at all. I know what it’s like to be afraid because of what you are. You shouldn’t have to. And if your father is out there… I just want to help you. That’s it.”
The muscles in Stiles’ jaw clenched as he stared at Derek.
“Surely you can hear that I’m telling you the truth.”
Stiles shook his head, but he took a deep breath and his eyes cleared with something like resolve settling over his soft features. “Prepare your horse. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Derek watched Stiles stride back down the aisle and out the barn door. It was risky and stupid—so very stupid—but Derek couldn’t bear to leave him behind.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 496 - illuminate
Warnings: Some kind of bastardized western/ABO hybrid AU. (Vaguely inspired by the time period of Hell on Wheels.) Will be Derek/Stiles.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1250
Summary: The rain has yet to let up; Derek and Stiles share a paltry breakfast in the barn.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
Derek woke to a goat biting at the sleeve of his shirt. He shooed the animal away and sat up slowly, stretching out his aching muscles. It took a few moments for his senses to fully wake with the rest of him, but he could still hear the rain pattering the roof. And, when he looked across the pen, the boy was gone. His scent lingered so Derek knew he either hadn’t gone far or hadn’t been gone for long.
The goats bleated at Derek as he stood and exited the pen, carefully listening for the boy in the darkness of the barn. Down the center aisle between the stables he could hear the horses whickering and moving amongst the hay. The door opened as he moved towards it revealing a slice of dull gray light from the rainy morning silhouetting the boy as he slipped back inside. Along with the scent of the meandering storm and sweet grass, the gentle breeze carried with it a trace of sunshine and lavender.
With a shiver, the boy pulled the door closed and wiped the rain from his face. There was a small rucksack dangling from his elbow that swung with the movement, wafting the mouthwatering scent of fresh bread. When he caught sight of Derek in the dimness of the barn, he startled and laughed quietly at himself. “It’s not much,” he said, offering the rucksack to Derek. There was another slung over his shoulder from which he pulled a leather water skin. “And water. I talked to Miss Kate. She’d like for you to see her once the rain stops.”
Derek opened the rucksack, revealing four golden biscuits and two small red apples. “Have you eaten yet?”
The boy’s heart tripped a beat. “Yes, sir.”
With a sigh, Derek offered an apple and a biscuit. “Here.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You can. There’s enough for two.” He stretched his hand out a little further.
After a long moment’s hesitation, the boy finally took the food. “Thank you, sir.”
“Derek. My name is Derek.”
“Thank you, Mister Derek,” the boy said.
“Just ‘Derek’ is fine.”
The boy nodded. “Derek.”
“What’s your name?”
“Stiles, sir. Derek.”
“That’s an unusual name,” Derek said, moving back towards the pen and sinking to the floor outside the gate to sit.
Stiles slowly dropped down beside him, curling up around himself a couple of feet away. “Yes, sir. My family is Polish. Miss Kate thought my given name would detract customers. I chose to go by ‘Stiles’ as it is somewhat an abbreviation of my father’s name.”
“I see. Stiles.” Derek found the taste of the boy’s name in his mouth unexpectedly pleasant.
As they sat there eating a shared meager breakfast, the drumming of the rain increased to an awful ruckus. “That’s one heck of a storm,” Stiles commented, tearing a chunk off his biscuit and popping it into his mouth.
“Sure is.”
“Never seen it rain this long. Least, not in these parts.”
“I’d thought I’d be running into snow. I’m not sure if the rain is better or worse.”
“Worse, likely. With this much, there’s bound to be a lot of flooding. It won’t make travel easy.”
“No, I imagine it won’t.”
“Where’re you headed?” Stiles asked, shifting his attention to Derek as he finished the last of his biscuit and started buffing his apple on the damp front of his shirt. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Home, to California.”
Stiles perked up a bit at that, leaned a bit closer, edging into Derek’s space. “California? That’s where my father was headed. My mother was too sick for the journey so we stayed here. Miss Kate took me in when she passed.” His heartbeat fluttered with the grief that muted his scent.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s been nine years, but thank you. Some days I forget what she looked like, but Miss Kate says I’m her spitting image, so.” Stiles shrugged and folded in on himself a bit.
“Where in California was your father going? San Francisco?” The gold rush was long since over, but many still ventured out in the hope of finding an untapped vein.
“No; he was headed to Shasta. He’s a lawman.”
“And he left when?”
“Ten years ago, sir. Derek.”
Derek felt something in his chest constrict at the admission. “Have you heard from him since then?”
Stiles shrugged. “He writes once a year to ask after me. Miss Kate—” He cut himself off, heartbeat increasing from nerves or anxiety judging by the sudden sour notes to his scent.
“Miss Kate?”
“She took care of my mother. Then she took care of me. I’m… paying off a debt. I can leave in a year, or if—” Again, he stopped himself, the scent spiking unpleasantly.
“Stiles?”
“Or if one of her customers chooses to buy me. My mother was… different. And I am, too.”
That strange connection Derek had initially felt to him, that other scent to him Derek couldn’t immediately identify. “She was wolf,” Derek guessed, flashing his crimson eyes.
Stiles’ eyes glinted gold as his breath hitched, then he turned his face away, standing abruptly. “You must go, right away. If Miss Kate learns what you are, she won’t hesitate to kill you.”
Derek stood and followed Stiles as he stalked down the aisle towards the last stall. He recalled the flutter of Stiles’ heart when he talked of his mother’s passing. “Is that what happened to your mother? Did Kate— Is she a Hunter?”
“You need to leave,” Stiles said, slipping the halter onto Derek’s horse.
Derek stilled him with a hand on the back of his neck, mind still trying to process the information he’d been given over the last few moments. “Are you—”
“Wolf?”
“Omega.”
Stiles’ eyes dropped to the ground. “I’m still worth money to her, I’ll be fine. You won’t be. Please go. Please.”
Miss Kate didn’t scare Derek in the slightest—what was one woman against an alpha, especially one that had survived the worst battle of the War? But it was clear Stiles feared her. There was only one thing to do and the decision wasn’t difficult to make. “Gather your things. Quickly.”
Stiles looked up at him with wide, guileless eyes. “What?”
“You’ll come with me. I’ll take you to Shasta, it’s not far from where I’m going.”
Stiles shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You’d rather be sold?”
Scent bitter, Stiles turned his back to Derek. “She’ll find me. She always finds me when I try to run.”
“You won’t be alone this time. I won’t let her hurt you.”
Stiles whirled around and took a step back. “Why? Why would you help me? Because I’m Omega? Do you want to breed me?”
Derek took a step back himself. “No. No, not at all. I know what it’s like to be afraid because of what you are. You shouldn’t have to. And if your father is out there… I just want to help you. That’s it.”
The muscles in Stiles’ jaw clenched as he stared at Derek.
“Surely you can hear that I’m telling you the truth.”
Stiles shook his head, but he took a deep breath and his eyes cleared with something like resolve settling over his soft features. “Prepare your horse. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Derek watched Stiles stride back down the aisle and out the barn door. It was risky and stupid—so very stupid—but Derek couldn’t bear to leave him behind.