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"I'm bored," Stiles sighed, thunking his head against the wall. "Shouldn't something be happening?"
Derek's teeth itched. It wasn't that big a deal, just a minor annoyance, really. It was still there though. And annoying.
Much like Stiles.
Stiles shifted again, making the chains clank again, and Derek sighed. "You don't feel different at all?"
"Nope!" he exclaimed, all too brightly, before shrugging and tilting his head back and forth. (Apparently, not having the use of his hands just meant he gestured with his head, which was just as obnoxious.) "Well, aside from the hearing, and the smelling, and feeling like I could eventually get out of this if I really tried, anyway," he said, jerking one arm against the chains unless Derek had any doubts about what 'this' was.
Derek stared, but Stiles just shrugged again. "No, seriously."
The mark where Deucalion had bitten him had healed in hours with no trace of a scar. Stiles was a werewolf, whether he’d wanted it or not.
He smelled like a wolf. He was as fast and as strong as a wolf. He had the senses of a wolf. He healed like a wolf.
But he fought with weapons, not claws. Deucalion hadn't been able to call Stiles. Hadn't been able to control him, or even make him shift. The full moon wasn't making Stiles shift. Nothing seemed to--
Derek closed his eyes. "Stiles."
"I don't think I deserve that tone," Stiles groused, his heart rate picking up with a note of anxiety. "I'm not even fidgeting. Uh, much, anyway. For me, this is--"
"Stiles," Derek ground out. "Have you ever shifted?"
The blank gape he got in return was answer enough. Swearing mentally, Derek moved to start unlocking the chains.
"What--"
"I don't know why I didn't anticipate that you'd be just as annoying in this as everything else." The chains slithered and rattled their way to the floor as Stiles stood, still frowning and confused but thankfully quiet. "How are you keeping control?"
From the way Stiles tensed, Derek wasn't sure he'd actually needed to ask. He remembered how the sheriff had looked, when Stiles was bitten. Stiles had had an even better view.
"If you can't shift, you can't work on controlling yourself while shifted. You're more dangerous, just less often."
Stiles snorted at that, drawing a hand over his face. "So...I'm a time bomb?"
"Ten points from Gryffindor for the bad Avengers reference," Derek quipped back, smirking when Stiles gaped. "Now start running." He pushed Stiles toward the door, grabbing the phone from his pocket and tapping out a text message for Scott and Isaac.
"Wait. What? What are we doing?"
"We're going to chase you around the preserve until you break down and shift." He hit send on Stiles loose in preserve and tossed the phone back to Stiles, grinning at Stiles' indignant squawk.
"You are such an asshole."
Derek shrugged and pushed Stiles toward the door again. "Better get going. They know you'll have started from here."