Stepping Back Ahead

Author's Note: I haven't actually seen S4 yet, so we'll call this a S3 AU fic, and no Kate.

Pairing: Sterek

oo0oo

Chapter 1

Derek hated that Stiles had brought him here. Of course the hyper teen would pick somewhere like this.

The sound of the merry-go-round, of roller coasters and screaming kids.

"Come on Derek!" Stiles said excitedly, attempting to pull him by the hand toward the Seer's tent.

"Don't be ridiculous Stiles!" he snapped.

Derek had been spending more time with the boy since the Nogitsune ordeal. Something in their friendship had shifted yet again. Derek didn't mind being around Stiles- maybe part of him even liked it.

Still, if he had known the hyper teen were dragging him to the carnival...

"What's wrong Sourwolf? Scared of fortune tellers?"

He attempted to give Stiles his most intimidating death glare.

"Its superstitious nonsense!"

"Now Derek," Stiles began with a grin. "Some people think werewolves are superstition."

Derek scowled, refusing to admit Stiles had a point. Stiles now found the older man's moods almost endearing, suppressing an urge to snicker.

"Fine then, I'll go by myself. Be a pal and wait for me."

Stiles turned his back on the wolf, certain that he'd be feeling it if Derek's glare could literally bore a hole into his back.

He was hit with the overpowering stink of perfume when he stepped into the tent.

An older woman with gray and white hair was seated at a small table.

"Come in young man," she invited, gesturing to a vacant chair across from her.

Stiles sat, finding those soul-searching gray eyes of hers somewhat unnerving.

"What an interesting name," she spoke suddenly.

"Sorry?" Stiles asked nervously.

"Your name of course," she answered with a thin smile. "A spirit has just told it to me, but that isn't why you're here."

"N-no ma'am," Stiles managed through sudden nervousness.

His name- he hadn't used it or heard it since...

"Peace child," the woman spoke with some gentleness. "That isn't why you're here. Is someone with you?"

"Yeah he's outside. Doesn't much care for fortune tellers."

"I see," she said simply. "He's a lot like you. Both incredibly strong, both have suffered loss... "

She paused and drew in a breath as though collecting herself.

"His name is Derek."

Stiles gawked in surprise, but she merely smiled.

"Yes Genim, my power is real. I'm no fake like so many swindlers."

"You called me Genim," Stiles whispered, eyes wide with emotion. "My name... "

"Yes," she said. "An unusual name. Take good care of it. Now what is this I sense about you toward Derek?"

A sick feeling had settled into his stomach. Should he stand up and run?

"Don't run," she told him. "Peace. All spoken here is between us. What you desire will be yours Genim, but only through a series of choices. He too will make choices. I know what you desire, what you hide so well from even your closest friend."

The knot in Stiles's stomach twisted painfully.

"Do not hide yourself Stiles. Embrace yourself. All you desire can be yours. That is all I can say at present."

Stiles was mostly relieved, and never more eager to get out of a fortune teller's tent. He stood, digging for his wallet.

"You owe me nothing," she said, raising a hand to still him. "I will help you get what you desire. May the powers go with you."

Stiles had never been happier to be back in the open air. Derek was waiting with folded arms and his trademark scowl.

"Well?" he demanded.

"You were right Derek: waste of time. I'm starved!"

They went to find the food tent, wanting something more substantial than a hot dog, but all they got was a mystery casserole. It wasn't bad.

"So Derek," Stiles said, mouth full of casserole. "Did I ever tell you my real name?"

"You've never told anyone," Derek said like Stiles was stupid to ask.

"Well I want to. Its Genim."

Derek looked at him with a skeptical eyebrow.

"No seriously," Stiles insisted, flailing his arms out obnoxiously.

Derek snorted and covered his mouth.

"Hey!" Stiles protested. "I didn't tell you so I could get laughed at."

"Not that," Derek shook his head. "That stupid thing you do with your arms."

Stiles scowled.

"Oh yeah? See if I ever go anywhere with you again."

"Uh huh," Derek said skeptically. "I've heard that one about three times this week."

"Well this time I mean it," Stiles huffed, folding his arms.

"You don't mean it," Derek said with the smallest hint of an amused smile.

"Do too," Stiles replied, pouting his lip slightly. "Now let's go ride the ferris wheel."

"No thanks. Time for me to go home."

"But we haven't ridden any rides yet," Stiles pointed out.

Derek tried to ignore the hint of hurt in the boy's expression, but he really hated carnivals.

"See ya," he waved over his shoulder.

He really hoped Stiles didn't follow him. The boy was making him feel smothered.

He felt a sudden rush at the gray eyes that suddenly locked with his own. The Seer was standing outside her tent practically glaring at him.

He willed himself to move, but something kept him in place. She stepped toward him, and suddenly he felt something like fear.

"I know you doubt my powers Derek Hale," she addressed him coldly. "You will doubt no more. You run and hide from those who care about you. You seek help as a last resort. You wear the flesh of a man, but inside you're a scared child."

Derek felt a sudden rush of both anger and acknowledgement of her words.

"Be outwardly what you are inwardly Derek Hale! Let everyone see the boy you are!"

Derek howled with pain as boiling heat seemed to scorch his skin. He covered his face with his hands, stumbling blindly.

"Now everyone will see the sixteen year old boy you won't allow to die!"

Derek turned and ran from her. He hated the sound of her voice. He peered through his fingers, seeing the tubs for bobbing apples ahead, running for them.

He dunked his head into the cold, fresh liquid, and it cooled him immediately.

He raised his head, skin no longer burning, but what he saw reflected in the water shocked him- his sixteen year old self was looking back.

Sixteen year old Derek's mouth parted in shock and awe. He raised shaking hands to his now smoother face, feeling it as though he doubted it were real.

What had that old woman done to him?