It seemed like a good enough idea at the time because hey it's California and not going to the beach in the summer for some pack bonding would be like a crime. According to Scott at least though Stiles is unsure how much that argument is affected by the necessity of swimsuits at the beach and Allison now being in the pack. Except now that they're all piled in their cars and the sharp salty breeze is blowing through the open windows Stiles is starting to think maybe he should've thought this through more.

He's going to have to come up with some good excuses so he doesn't have to swim even though everyone there knows he can and he's even wearing the trunks Lydia made him buy because they, "matched his complexion so well." And oh yeah he's with a bunch of werewolves and they'll immediately see through his lies if his complete inability to lie in the first place doesn't give him away.

He sets up shop on a small towel from the back of the jeep under the shade of one of the larger boulders scattered about the sand. He busies himself with sunblock and checking supplies, taking his t-shirt off as slowly as possible and making sure it's neatly folded. By the time he's done everyone else is in the water and perhaps he can actually do this.

Except then Scott the big dumb idiot is calling for him and Stiles waves half-heartedly holding up one of the novels he brought along. He can tell Scott is frowning but Allison is sufficiently distracting to make him drop the issue. Erica, Isaac and Boyd have started some kind of game vaguely resembling tag with a lot more splashing while Jackson and Lydia float contentedly rocking with the waves on a sandbar. Derek has himself perched on a rock sticking up a little ways out into the surf presumably to monitor the group but Stiles swears he sees him eyeing the three pups like he longs to join in.

Eventually everyone tires themselves out or at least needs refueling because they all come back up to the towels for the sandwiches made and packed that morning. Stiles grabs one if only because he knows waiting will mean there's none left when there's werewolves involved. After eating and chatting about nonsense and some basking in the sun everyone returns to the water except Stiles.

He knew it couldn't be that easy. Scott isn't backing down this time and Stiles is running out of reasons he wouldn't want to swim. And then Jackson apparently decides enough is enough and the world is suddenly upside down as he's thrown over a shoulder and forcibly carried into the surf.

He did so well with the pool incident with Derek resisting the pull of the transformation for so long and he could blame the fear that no doubt radiated off him the entire time on the killer lizard stalking around in his periphery. The only reason he had even been able to manage it then was because of all the chemicals in the pool making his skin crawl in irritation. He had been aching for a week afterwards with the strain he put on himself. This though, this was the ocean warmed by the sun, smelling of summer and salt. There was no way he was going to be able to stop it this time.

He has a moment to think it's good they're in an isolated cove because it'd be bad if other people saw. Except other people aren't really his priority right now because this is his pack. This is his family and all he can think about is the looks of shock and betrayal that will be there and he really meant to tell them but there was never a right time but then he's surrounded by the cool touch of water and it's all over now isn't it?

The gills are the first to come and he's frantically speeding towards deeper waters in the foolish hope that maybe he can escape this. He can already feel his scales starting to spread down legs towards feet that have more fins than toes now. There's a rock formation just at the mouth of the cove before the open ocean and quickly as he can Stiles darts behind it.

Even amid all the panic and distress of the situation Stiles takes a moment to just breathe in the clean ocean waters, enjoy the dappled sunlight across his face and the currents brushing delicately against his scales. It's been so long since he's been like this. Not since before his mother got sick and stopped being able to take him out to the lake.

Then reality invades his thoughts again. He can hear the muffled calls of his name and the vibrations he feels in the water tell him almost everyone is currently headed in his direction.

He could escape. He could go deep and just not come up. Swim down the beach a ways and wait until nightfall to make his way back to land. Even as plans are formed and discarded before they're finished he feels a hand grab his arm and drag towards the surface.

"Stiles?"

Scott. Of course it would be Scott. And he knows how he looks when he's like this with the darker hair and a silvery sheen to his skin even where there aren't scales. And then he looks up and Scott makes some kind of aborted sound of surprise because Stiles knows his eyes are gold. A real proper gold not like the doggish yellow of Scott's or the sickly bright reptilian Jackson's used to be but more like the spectrum of light at sunset decided to congeal and let two drops land in his eyes. They were always his favorite part. They were always his mom's favorite.

And then there are more sounds of shock because Stiles can see everyone crowding around over Scott's shoulder and he's pretty sure they can see the glinting reflection of his tail in the water back there. He feels as lost as when his mother died all over again, before she had finished explaining everything and if he doesn't even really know what he is then how is he supposed to explain it to everyone else.

Logically he realizes that he has to say something eventually and that as he's been formulating explanations his breathing has been getting steadily faster until now he feels like he's breathing through a straw and oh…he's having a panic attack. In the middle of the ocean. Surrounded by werewolves that may or may not still be your pack. Way to keep it together Stilinski.

Suddenly Derek is there next to Scott his hand is firmly planted on the curve where his neck meets his shoulder barely brushing the lowest of Stiles's gills.

"Breathe, Stiles. C'mon you have to breathe."

Derek has his Alpha voice on now and, huh, who woulda thought that'd work on things other than werewolves? Except he kind of already knew that since it did things to him even as a human. And Stiles listens to that voice and one large breath turns into another and then three until the world isn't blurring at the edges and his heartbeat is down to manageable levels.

Derek's hand is still resting on his shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his collarbone. Stiles can still see the complete shock from before on everyone's faces and he's kind of afraid to see what emotion may be there now but that hand gives him enough hope to raise his eyes again.

Derek is looking at him with what if Stiles didn't know better he'd call awe. Scott still just looks shocked but that's not really a surprise and he doesn't get a look at everyone else because they've kind of been blocked by these two.

"Uh…" Stiles still can't really think of any coherent sentences and his mouth feels dry and how ridiculous is that in the middle of a giant body of water and how did we start using the term body for a large amount of water and he's convinced his brain hates him because there are much more important things to be thinking about now.

"You're a mermaid." And of course it's Derek completely monotone because he's awesome at stating the obvious and also at never actually making anything he says sound like a question.

"I prefer the term Merman." And really? That's what he comes up with? Now he knows his brain hates as if it wasn't official before.

Then Scott, wonderful adorably awkward Scott breaks into the conversation. "Wha- Buh- How?! When?! I mean…what?"

And Stiles really can't help it he just looks at the puppy dog eyes and the little confused frown between Scott's eyebrows and he starts laughing-not giggling—and he has to curl his arms around his stomach and his tail is twitching uncontrollably which is when he realizes he's kind of slapping Derek's ankles repeatedly. Now Derek has also reverted back to shocked which on Derek means that the only thing changed is his eyebrows reaching epic heights. Stiles slowly brings down his hysteria a bit until he can actually talk though the smile which is probably a little manic doesn't leave his face.

"Maybe this is something we can talk about closer to shore?" he suggests.

That seems to snap Derek out of his confusion at least and he removes his hand—how did that even stay there during his laughing fit—and leans away from Stiles. Scott is still pretty much frozen so Stiles tugs his arm a bit and starts swimming once he's sure Scott will follow. The others have obviously heard the conversation because they're already swimming back towards the little sandbar Lydia and Jackson perched on most of the morning.

Now that Stiles is less concerned with getting killed he allows himself to enjoy moving through the water as he was meant to on his way back gliding for long periods by simply swishing his tail and even indulges in a little flip. That's when he sees Derek and Scott both watching with some wonder on their faces as they swim behind him and Stiles blushes hotly before turning around and trying to be as minimal as possible in his movement.