For the Love of Chaos

Triskelion

"Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles. If this is going to work, you have to believe it."

These were the words Deaton said to Stiles only a week before. It had been a lot of pressure at first, but he managed to pull it off. He'd managed to surround the building with just enough mountain ash even though he'd been several feet short. He chalked it up to some supernatural ability the mountain ash had, but Deaton had said that he needed to be the spark.

Now as Stiles stood in front of his bathroom mirror, he wondered what that really meant. His long fingers traced over the black ink that had surfaced on his skin at some point. Had it been there yesterday? He didn't know. He hadn't noticed it until now, fresh out of the shower.

The familiar mark caused nausea to build up in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know much about the supernatural world, but he did know what this symbol was. A triskelion. The symbol was barely the size of a half dollar sitting just under Stiles' collarbone.

Stiles had never thought of getting a tattoo, what with his fear of needles and all. However, this wasn't exactly a tattoo, he was pretty sure tattoos didn't just show up on your skin overnight.

He let out a heavy sigh as he pulled on his t shirt covering the mark. The only reason it made Stiles so uneasy was because the only other time he'd seen that symbol was on Derek's back. The exact symbol, the size of Stiles' fist, sat between the alpha's shoulder blades.

He was about to meet Scott and Allison in the school library, he could swing by Deaton's on his way. Maybe he would know more about what this meant.

-

Deaton was just finishing with a patient when Stiles arrived.

"Stiles, what can I do for you?" Deaton asked opening the examination room door for Stiles to enter.

"I uh, I had a question actually," Stiles toed the floor nervously, his eyes planted on the black and white checkered pattern.

"I'll give you any answers I have," Deaton spoke patiently.

"The mountain ash you gave me..." Stiles paused not looking up.

"What about it?" Deaton urged Stiles to continue, a curiosity to his tone.

"Why did I have to do it?" Stiles raised his head to gauge Deaton's reaction to his question.

"You're human. No supernatural creature can touch it," Deaton explained simply.

"What about you? You're a druid and you can touch it," Stiles pointed out.

Deaton nodded, "You are correct, but I have magical properties. Druids aren't technically supernatural. We're in the same family as the Fey."

Stiles nodded. He recalled reading something about the Fey being separated from the supernatural the same way humans were.

"Could I..." Stiles bit at his bottom lip anxiously, "Could I have magical properties?" Stiles finally asked.

Deaton tilted his head slightly, "Why do you ask?"

Stiles let out a sigh before pulling the collar of his shirt down to expose the triskelion.

Deaton's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"What?" Stiles didn't like that look.

"Where'd you get that?" Deaton asked not taking his eyes off the mark.

"I just noticed it about an hour ago. It just showed up. I don't know when," Stiles shrugged, releasing his shirt.

Deaton turned to a cabinet and pulled out an unmarked book.

"I definitely believe you have magical properties," Deaton nodded as he flipped through the book.

"Okay..." Stiles waited for the vet to continue.

"That symbol is a common druid symbol. However, it doesn't typically just show up. There have been stories of marks showing up, but it's incredibly rare."

"Okay, so what does it mean?" Stiles shifted his weight from one foot to the other, anxious to find out.

"Some druids that use their spark for the first time will have a symbol or a mark show up on their skin," Deaton pointed to the page he landed on, "The symbol usually pertains to a certain person in the druids life, an alpha usually, or a werewolf that is destined to become an alpha at some point."

Stiles felt the blood drain from his face.

"Sometimes the symbol can be a birthmark or a family crest, or...a tattoo," Deaton looked up, meeting Stiles' eyes with his own.

"Why would Derek's tattoo show up on me?" Stiles asked uncertainly. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Every once in a while, fate will match an emissary with an alpha. I believe you are Derek's fated emissary," Deaton explained gently.

Stiles reached for the nearest counter, attempting to steady himself as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He couldn't be Derek's emissary. He barely knew the guy much less trusted him.

"Have you noticed an unexplained connection with Derek? Or perhaps something that draws you to him?" Deaton asked gently, helping Stiles to stay balanced.

"What? No," Stiles shook his head.

Immediately images of Derek poisoned with Kates' wolfsbane bullet flashed in his head. Stiles had spent the entire evening helping keep him alive.

Another image of Stiles helping Derek break into the police station flashed. Then him missing his lacrosse game to help hack into the hospital computers. Then him holding Derek up in the school pool for two hours when he was paralyzed from the Kanima.

Maybe he was being pulled to Derek without even realizing it.

"Stiles?" Deaton touched Stiles' shoulder gently, pulling him from his thoughts.

"I have to go. Thank you," Stiles said, hurrying towards the door. He had to see Derek.