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The first time Deaton mentions being the spark Stiles makes a joke about lighting himself on fire in hopes it keeps Scott from hearing the way his heart picks up at the phrase.
It’s not the first time he’s heard the term.
His mother was magic, he knows that anyone who hears him say that would just assume they are the words of a boy who loved his mother more than anything on this earth and lost her way too soon. All of that is true, he loved his mother, her being gone doesn’t diminish that nor the pain it caused to lose her. But when he says his mother was magic he means it in the literal sense.
His mother was magic, his mother was a witch.
One of his earlier memories of her is them in the garden her hand over the bare earth, moments later a bright flower had bloomed. He remembers her kind smile and soft laugh as he shrieked with excitement.
He pestered her with questions, one of the biggest, could he do it too?
‘Yes my darling, you just have to believe, you have to want it enough.’ She had answered, her hands reaching out to another patch of earth, a bright blue smoke swirling between her hands. From then on they did magic together, every time he got something right she would smile and praise him. Nothing was impossible; all he had to do was believe.
Then one day his mother got sick and no matter how much he believed, no matter how much he wanted it, his belief didn’t make her better, didn’t keep her with him. His magic died with her.
………
The first time he uses mountain ash and it works, his excitement is more than just the plan working, more than him finally being able to help his supernatural friends. As the ash slips through his fingers, creating the circle he feels the same electricity he felt as a child making flowers grow out of nothing. For a moment it feels like his mother is right there and he’s gotten a piece of her back.
He keeps it to himself, just like he has all these years, magic was always a thing between him and his mom, losing it had been as hard as losing her, getting it back, even a small part was meant to be protected. So he goes about like it’s a fluke, special dirt, nothing to do with him.
Deaton is the only one that looks a little harder, a little longer, a small serene smile on his face, like he knows. Not that he does. It not like before, what use to come so easily to him back then is still impossible now, it’s like learning how to walk all over again, baby steps and a million stumbles.
‘Just believe my darling.’
The problem is he doesn’t, he doesn’t believe in anything strong enough. Not magic, not that good will beat evil, not himself or others. People disappoint, people die and he can’t stop it, not with magic dirt or his belief.
“You should heed your mother’s words, Stiles,” Deaton drops one day no lead into the conversation. No wonder Derek gets so pissed at the guy, shit like that is annoying. “You never know when you’ll be able to use it.”
“Use what?” he asks as politely as he can, he’s never giving Derek shit again about the guy.
“Your belief is your most powerful tool.”
“No offense, but I really hate the fortune cookie shit.”
Deaton smiles like he’s the funniest thing ever. “Probably why you and Derek make a good pair, you’re a lot alike, blunt and to the point, have a good day Stiles and remember what I said.”
“You didn’t say anything,” Stiles murmurs as he leaves the vet. “Talking in riddles more like it.”
……..
The Alpha Pack take Isaac and Scott, because their lives suck and the Alpha Pack is a bunch of assholes who didn’t think it was enough they took Erica and Boyd. Derek, Peter and himself assemble the rescue party. Chances are they are going to die and it’s going to be bloody.
As they sneak into the Alpha pack’s lair Stiles allows himself a moment to think. Now would be a really good time for his ‘most powerful tool’ to become useful.
They find Scott and Isaac; they even find Boyd, though one look into his bloody face and hollow eyes tells them they aren’t going to find Erica.
They are almost out and it’s almost too easy until it isn’t. The howls are loud and they bounce off the walls, it seems to shake them and Stiles is reminded of the story of the three little pigs and the big bad wolf. He huffed and puffed, it all came tumbling down.
Derek pushes him back, tells him and Peter to take his betas and run. Scott and Peter drag Boyd away; Isaac limps under his own steam.
“Stiles go.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs, hoping it will hide his fear. “If you really think that’s going to happen, than you’re just a pretty face because that’s stupid.”
“If you stay here you’ll die,” Derek growls in his face, it mixes with the other growls that are getting closer.
“And somehow you’re protected?” he snaps back.
“I’m the Alpha,” Derek retorts, his go to answer for everything.
“And I’ve saved your Alpha ass more than once,” he reminds him. “What’s one more?”
“Stiles-“
“This is adorable,” a wicked voice interrupts whatever threat Derek was sure to give him. “The Alpha and his pet human, he stayed behind to protect you?”
“That’s right cujo,” he answers bravely, though by the sigh Derek lets out next to him, he’d probably use another word. “So leave now while you still can.”
By now the Alpha who first spoke is joined by four other, the only woman laughs. “Feisty, should we kill him first and make Hale watch or should we kill Hale first and make the kid watch?”
“Decisions, decisions,” mocks another.
“You won’t hurt him,” Derek growls as he places a hand on his chest, trying to push him back. He gets a glare from Derek when he stands his ground.
“And you can’t have him,” he finishes, telling the room at large Derek included, because enough with the self-sacrificing crap, enough. “He’s mine. You. Can’t. Have. Him.”
The Alpha pack let out one more collective howl as they leap at them, it’s the last thing he sees before his vision whites out, his body burning from the inside out. Words echo in his head like on loop.
‘You can’t have him, I won’t let you.’
………..
He comes to hours later, lying on cool metal and a light overhead shining into his eyes.
“I see you finally believed, good for you Mr. Stilinski.”
“No fortune cookie crap doc,” he groans as he goes to sit up, strong hands on his chest and back helping him instantly. “I have a raging headache.”
“Well went you eliminate five Alpha werewolves with magic that tends to happen,” the good doctor answers back, like the king of sass he is.
“It worked?” he asks surprised.
“What exactly worked, Stiles?”
He looks down at the hand on his chest and follows it, he finds Derek staring at him with a fierce expression on his face.
“I’ll leave the two of you alone,” Deaton says as he heads for the door. Tactical retreat, if Stiles ever saw one.
“You want to explain how one second we’re about to die at the hand of five Alphas and then the next you are covered in white light while they wither on the ground?”
“I’m magic?” he gets out hesitantly.
“Stiles.”
“No really!” he starts and then it just spills out, his mother, his childhood, everything he could do back then and then lost, what he’s getting back, and it is, he can feel it coursing through his body just the way it use to, every part of him singing when it’s been silent for so long.
“Your mom was a witch?”
He nods.
“You too?”
He nods again.
“You haven’t been able to do magic till now?” Derek continues, getting yet another nod. “Why now?”
“Same reason I stayed by your side,” he answers knowing it’s the truth. “You were going to die and I wasn’t going to let that happen, I wasn’t going to lose you too, that just wasn’t going too happened. I believed and it didn’t, you’re here, you’re safe and with me.”
Derek stares at him silent and with wonder. “Why?” he finally asks in a small voice.
“Believe something hard enough, you have to want it enough,” he answers, his heart starting to pound as he reaches out and takes Derek’s hand in his, swallowing hard as Derek intertwines their fingers. “I wanted you to live; I wanted that more than anything.”