Chapter Text
He was sleeping on the floor again. Being a werewolf and having ultra-fast healing meant no sore back or cricked neck, this wasn’t so much an inconvenience as it was exasperating. He had just got a new bed, in his new apartment and it would be nice to finally wake up in it.Derek stretched, his fingers drifting along the wood panels of the floor. He felt warm and content- it still surprised him, sometimes, that life wasn’t a bag of shit anymore. His tail thumped happily against the floor twice.
Derek froze, red eyes snapping open. He scrambled to his feet (four. Four, damn it- when had he shifted into his alpha form?), claws skating across the wooden floor. Nose flaring, he took in his surroundings, noticing with a jolt that he had no clue where he was. The room had wooden walls, floors and ceiling. Even the furniture was made of wood, the bed small and covered in a lump of blankets. A window opened into a cloudless sky, thick branches plush with leaves swayed in the breeze. Derek sat down.
He was in a fucking tree house.
What the hell- he thought, head tilting to the side. He flinched when he was answered with a tired groan. Spinning around, he realized that the bed was occupied, blankets shifting as whoever it was flailed in sudden wakefulness. The bed creaked and Derek stalked over, claws clacking on the wood, too long to be silent. A part of him already had a guess of who was hiding under those blankets (cause really, who else would manage to get tangled in some perfectly innocent sheets?). He sniffed the air, but the smell of the tree (the sap, leaves, birds, and wood) blending with the myriad of scents perfuming the blankets made it impossible to identify the stranger under them. Bracing himself at the foot of the bed, Derek ripped the blankets off with his teeth.
Stiles gave a surprised shout, arms jerking up to cover his face. “Oh my freaking- Derek, what did I tell you about sneaking into my room without permission…”
“Stiles, shut up.” And, holy hell, did he just say that out loud? He must have, because Stiles was finally still, staring at him like a gaping fish (“Whuh… What didjah…”). Derek honestly didn’t know which one of them was more surprised. He glanced down at himself and, yes, he was still a wolf, but…
“I can talk-”
“Shit, did you just speak? In alpha form? Jesus, do you know how long it took for me to figure out what the hell you’re trying to say when you’re all wolfy? And now you decide to let me know you can talk?” Stiles threw himself out of bed, mostly successfully (though his right foot did get caught in the blankets, causing him to stumble a bit. Derek definitely did not huff a laugh), continuing his rant as he marched across the room to the mirror.
“I mean, come on. Rude. I even Googled how to communicate with dogs- …what am I wearing?”
Derek blinked and trotted closer. This time he did let out a little laugh. Stiles was wearing navy blue shorts and a tight, bright blue tee. On his back was a green backpack, but what really amused Derek was the white hat thing on the boy’s head.
“You look ridiculous.” he said.
Stiles glared at him through the mirror. “This is your fault. I know it is. How did we even get here?” Stiles turned to the window, leaning out to survey the field below. “I still can’t believe we’re in a huge tree house…” he trailed off suddenly and Derek heard his heart skip.
He still looked ridiculous in his outfit, but Stiles’ stillness made Derek weary. He stepped closer to peer out the window, sniffing the air. “What is it?” he asked, but Stiles was already bolting for the stairs, muttering under his breath. It all sounded like gibberish to Derek, but hell if he was going to be left alone in a tree house.
Definitely wasn’t going to take the stairs, though. He hopped up on the windowsill and jumped, part of him hoping that he landed the same time Stiles reached the doorway. He did love a good dramatic entrance. But the fall was a bit further than he’d planned and instead of landing majestically on all fours, Derek ended up tripping over his front feet. He managed to right himself, but only after doing a somersault and smacking his head off the ground.
Damn it.
Well, it wasn’t his fault, really. Not like he spent much time in alpha form, anyway. The ground was uneven. And this place was weird. He would have landed that if they weren’t in fuck-all nowhere.
Yeah. Still, he was glad that he had beaten Stiles down because he would never have heard the end of it. Plus, that boy has too much blackmail material as is.
Derek couldn’t resist sitting right in the doorway, though, so that when Stiles came barreling down the last few steps he could loom right over him. Stiles, being Stiles, went far past expectations and managed not only to let out a shriek when he nearly ran into Derek, but also flail backwards and trip over his own feet to land heavily on his ass.
Derek laughed (purposely ignoring that he had done just the same not one minute ago, but no one saw that so it didn’t count), tongue lolling out of his mouth as he sauntered away. He heard Stiles get to his feet, grumbling something about ‘dick-faced sour-wolves’. Derek ignored him and tried not to feel too pleased with himself. Instead, he took in their surroundings and what he saw made him groan.
They were in a huge field. A huge, fucking field. One of those ridiculous ones that you see in children’s cartoons, where the grass is perfectly green and the sky is a cloudless bright blue with no sign of smog or airplanes or anything. Just pure colour (even to Derek’s muted wolf sight). It was as if they were in a freaking TV show.
Witches. Had to be witches. Weird shit always happened when those hags were involved.
Stiles wasn’t taking their situation any better, by the looks of it. He was standing a few feet away from Derek, staring at the tree house and flapping his arms around as if he could take off in flight through sheer emotion alone. A string of ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit’ babbled from his mouth. But… it was almost as if Stiles recognized something, like his flailing wasn’t only from shock, but realization as well. Derek frowned and stepped closer to the boy, already feeling as if the other shoe was about to drop. Stiles was still going on under his breath once Derek reached him so he was forced to butt the boy in the hip to get his attention.
“Do you know where we are?” Derek asked and it still felt weird to talk like this, with a snout and fangs and standing on all fours.
“I... I think so.” Stiles said and he almost looked…. Excited?
Derek did not like that. If Stiles was somehow getting off on their location, it could only mean trouble (and possible future humiliation and exasperation) for Derek. Already, he was dreading what was coming next, but in order to figure out a way to get home he had to know where the flying fuck they were.
“Well?” he growled, snapping at Stiles’ fingers when the boy didn’t continue.
Stiles grinned down at him in response and Derek seriously was beginning to feel a bit scared. “We’re in the Land of Ooo.”
Oh, shit, not the Land of-
Derek had no clue where the fuck that was.
“What.”
Stiles gestured around them, though to Derek it looked as if he was having a mild seizure. “The Land of Ooo! You know? Adventure Time? Oh, wait, I forgot. You’re a grumpy old man who never has fun and is colour blind.”
Derek growled, flashing his teeth. Stiles just rolled his eyes (damn it). Derek was a ferocious animal! And at the moment, that statement was literal. He also didn’t understand how colour blindness fit in (not that he was, thank you very much. His eyes had perfect sight, even if colours were a bit murky).
Stiles gave Derek a nudge. “Adventure Time. It’s a cartoon and friggen hilarious, man. We’re in it. How cool is that?!” Derek gave him his flattest glare, unimpressed. Stiles kept going without taking a breath. “It’s about Jake the dog, you in this case, and Finn the human.” he finishes, throwing his arms out all tah dah and Derek was so done with this bullshit.
“Fucking witches.” He cursed, digging his claws into the grass that looked too green even to his wolf eyes. “This is your fault. Fix it.”
Stiles sputtered. “My fault? Excuse me, sourwolf but I wasn’t the one that insisted on taking on a coven all by my sulky lonesome. You’re lucky I came to save your stupid ass.”
So he was right about the witches. Derek vaguely remembered a dark room and a bunch of chanting, but the memory was all blurred and unimportant, now that he and Stiles were stuck in a children’s TV show.
His life.
“Am I also lucky that you managed to piss off the witches enough for them to send us to the Land of Aah?” Derek snapped.
“Land of Ooo.”
“You think I care what this freakshow is called? How do we get out of it?” He was starting to miss having opposable thumbs. And being at face height with Stiles. The kid was growing, but he hadn’t managed those last few inches he needed to be taller than Derek yet, and having to look up at the kid all the time was disconcerting.
Derek liked to loom. And he couldn’t exactly shove Stiles against any walls on four legs. Especially if he wanted to pin him there- to threaten him, of course. Derek shook himself, stubbornly avoiding where that thought was leading.
“You think I know? Why don’t you go ask the witches- oh yeah, you can’t because we have no freaking clue where they are.”
The sass in this boy was something else, Derek thought (hypocritically). “You watch the show, don’t you? There has to be something.”
Stiles considered their surroundings, spinning in a slow circle. “Well… If we’re in the Land of Ooo, and if I’m Finn and you’re Jake, then…” Stiles grinned and nodded his head twice. “We gotta go see Princess Bubblegum.”
“Princess what?” Derek said flatly cause, what the hell was this show?
Stiles rolled his eyes (rude). “Only Finn’s closest ally and, like, the smartest person here.”
Derek was still suck on the fact that they were going to go see a candy princess. “Alright then, how do we get to this Princess Marshmallow?”
“Bubblegum- oh my God, when we get home we’re watching Adventure Time.” Stiles declared, poking a long finger at Derek’s face. Derek snapped at the offending digit, but Stiles just bounced away.
“To the Candy Kingdom!” he cried, running across the field. Derek trotted after him, a part of him wanting to break into a sprint and charge across the grass. He could see pretty far, right up to the forest in the distance. There was no one around but he and Stiles and the sky was clear above them. They could run across the field, to the forest and beyond- no monsters or hunters to worry about- just the two of them and the wind and the trees.
Derek was brought abruptly back to the present when Stiles suddenly stopped. Derek barreled into the boy, unable to dodge in time. He tripped forward with the momentum, but managed to stay upright. Stiles was thrown into the air, yelling. As Derek watched, transfixed, Stiles flew into a high arch, hands windmilling, before plummeting to the ground a handful of yards away from him, his face plowing into the grass.
Derek stared. That was way more dramatic than it should have been. A brief flash of worry spiked through him, but then Stiles groaned and rolled onto his back. His face was only covered with dirt. No blood.
The alpha heaved a sigh of relief and walked over to him, nudging Stiles’ side with his nose. The boy didn’t smell like he was hurt. “Why did you stop, idiot?” Derek grumbled.
“I realized I had no idea where I was going." Stiles gave him a glare. "Why did you run into me, asshole?” he threw back.
Derek rolled his eyes and gave Stiles another nudge. “You’re fine. Why did you fall so far? I didn’t hit you that hard.”
Stiles shook his head, pushing himself to his feet. “Cartoons, man.” Like it was any explanation.
Sad thing was, it did make sense. Derek sighed. His life. “So how are we going to get to this Sugar Kingdom? I thought you watched the show.”
“Candy Kingdom, dumbass. And yes, I do watch the show, but it’s not like they have detailed directions.”
“That’s why you have me!”
Derek spun around, growling. He heard Stiles give a surprised yelp and pushed the boy back behind him. He turned red eyes on the newcomer and nearly groaned. What looked like a Gameboy with a face stood before them, only a few feet tall. It was a machine- Derek couldn't hear a heartbeat, only the faint whirring sounds of whatever powered it.
The face projected on the screen looked familiar though. Derek peered closer, inhaling deeply, but all he could smell was rust and oil. Stiles must have recognized the thing too, because Derek heard his breath catch.
“Scott?”