A/N: Yay, finished! How stoked am I to have finally finished a multiparter? Next objective - to finish In The Still Of The Night.

I really hope this chapter lives up to the build up it's been given. I hope I did a good enough job with it. This has been a fantastic writing experience, it's stretched me so much and given me many more ideas for this universe. But now, the run...

Now the brightness is teeming

The chains slip away

The wolf in the wool

Is no longer at bay

The portal is open

The walls disappear

Jump through the hoop

And the hell out of here

The Barrier - 3

Stiles had decided to start his meditation in Derek's bedroom. It made sense - Derek's things were all about and the room smelled of him, well OK, both of them really. Stiles was convinced it would be conducive to the process.

He'd gone upstairs and begun his breathing exercises before the pack had headed out of the door because he wanted to be riding Derek when the shift happened. Of all the things he wanted to experience, the shift made him the most curious. How did it feel to have your body totally break and reform? What was it like to give up your consciousness to another's dominance?

Stiles sat cross-legged on the bed breathing shallowly, eyes closed. His mind was in that nether place again. He could sense the infinity of it, how Derek could be anywhere within it. In another time he might have panicked out of the futility of the search but he was brim-full of confidence now, he knew he could find him. Sure enough, within a few moments of groping around, a sharp pull and a feeling of deep contentment wrapped itself around Stiles like a hug. There he was, there was Derek. Stiles prepared himself for the nauseous rush of joining and held his breath while he swooped down and into his mate's body.

The jolt made Stiles blink very quickly and he opened his eyes. Derek was standing about 50 feet from the house, still human and very naked, while Scott and Jackson as wolves tumbled in the snow. Stiles could sense Derek's pride as he watched his pack play fight. It was cold; he could feel the biting wind as it broke against the edges of the woodland. Derek seemed to give an internal sigh and Stiles knew he'd recognised his presence.

A thought appeared unbidden in Stiles' mind: Ready?

Stiles signalled his assent by merely thinking it: Yes and mentally flexed to check that he could feel all of Derek. He started to feel a tingle on his skin; it started on his torso and gradually spread out to encompass his whole body. Derek looked down and Stiles could see the short thick hairs that would form the dark wolf pelt sprout from his arm. It was like being covered by a blanket but from the inside. As the pelt spread across Derek's body, Stiles couldn't feel the wind so much.

Suddenly Derek dropped to his hands and feet and Stiles began to feel the oddest sensation, it was like having an alien within, parts of Derek's body started to metamorphose. This time it started in the extremities, his hands and feet slowly morphed into paws. Stiles felt the claws break through and it wasn't painful as such but uncomfortable in its strangeness.

Derek strained his neck upwards and yawned, only it wasn't a yawn because the stretch was his jaw elongating into a muzzle. Stiles could only consider the sensation ticklish when Derek's ears migrated to the top of his head and formed into points. He was almost enjoying it now that Derek was over halfway to wolf and then he wasn't... The major bones and muscles started to rearrange themselves and to Stiles it was like having something inside you fighting to get out. He wanted it to stop, it was the most peculiar thing he'd ever felt in his entire life. When Derek's tail emerged, well, that was just wrong, plain and simple.

Gradually Derek's body settled into its alpha form, Stiles stopped feeling as sick as he had during the shift. Derek stood foursquare in the snow, panting, draughts of misty breath issuing from his maw. Stiles stretched his mind through this new configuration, it was unfamiliar, walking on four legs was unnatural after a lifetime of walking on two, it was hard to find the right rhythm. Now that he wasn't consumed by Derek's transformation, Stiles became aware that the wolf was now the primary consciousness.

Stiles pulled back into the wolf's mind, eager to understand how this worked. He sensed pleasure and joy on a baser level than he was used to. My time, my turn, the wolf seemed to be thinking. Stiles had never considered that patience would be a major attribute for the wolf but now he got that this was a part of the unspoken deal between wolf and human. That for nearly all of its time the wolf had to be subsumed in their joint psyche but with the caveat that full moon was its all-too-brief window to be fully free and in control. Stiles marvelled that someone with such a strong character as Derek was willing to totally relinquish his possession, even for a single night.

With a new found sense of admiration for the wolf, Stiles wrapped himself around this least-known facet of his lover. The contentment of the beast was palpable, my mate, it acknowledged and now it seemed to want to show off for Stiles.

With a bound the wolf leaped after the rest of its pack, still frolicking on the snow a way off. It ran at them, butting its head into the nearest wolf which happened to be Jackson. Instinctively recognising his alpha, Jackson's wolf rolled over in a demonstration of submission. The whole pack hierarchy appeared far more cut and dried to Stiles as he experienced the subtleties of it in action. Derek's wolf was secure in its leadership and needed only to show its fangs or issue a low growl to achieve obedience from its betas. In the human world this interaction came with a lot more wordage. Stiles kind of liked this feeling of being in command; it was simple, easy to understand and for once in his life, placed him at the top of the pack, even if, strictly speaking, he was still once removed.

Scott, meanwhile, had dropped his body to the ground and was crawling forward slowly towards his alpha, tail held low down. When he reached touching distance, he nudged his muzzle into the side of the larger beast a couple of times and also adopted a deferential attitude. Having achieved obeisance from his pack, Derek's wolf flicked his head towards the trees as if to say, let's go and as one the wolves turned and ran into the wood.

Stiles, as a human, had on many occasions run pell-mell through these woods. At no time had he considered it fun. OK, maybe those times which ended up with just Derek catching him... But even then his awkwardness and generally uncoordinated approach to running ensured a healthy - unhealthy? – amount of bruises and abrasions across his lower body. This...this though, was something else.

The exhilaration felt by the wolf flooded Stiles' senses as the pack careened through the trees, no hesitation, no miss-steps. In the truest sense of the word, Stiles was on the ride of his life. No stranger to adrenaline, Stiles had long been a Rollercoaster fan, even if his opportunities to experience them had been scant. This gave the same sense of speed and danger despite the distinct lack of height.

Stiles had no idea how the wolves missed the myriad of obstacles in their path: low branches, awkwardly placed stones and unseen ruts in the ground, all were avoided with deft footwork as the pack wove quickly through the maze of woodland.

With every stride passed underfoot, Stiles became more comfortable in his position as bareback rider on the wild beast of impulsivity that was the wolf. As the fear of dying by, just well, hitting a tree faded, he extended his consciousness to the wolf's senses; he wanted to know what was going through the wolf's mind as he ran full speed towards destination unknown.

In truth, nothing was going through the wolf's mind. Nothing, except the constant stream of sensory information sent from its nose, its ears, its eyes. To Stiles it seemed like the wolf was forming an ever changing mind map from its memories and experiences – There, rabbits, ignore; over there, marshy ground, avoid; behind, wolves, pack.

There was no direct communication between the three wolves as to their direction or positioning. Mostly Derek headed the run but from time to time Scott or Jackson came forward to take the lead pushing them all forward in a never ending whirl of sensation and freedom.

Stiles had no idea how long they'd been running. Despite not knowing the landscape here anywhere near as well as Derek did, Stiles was still familiar enough – usually - to navigate himself around without getting too lost. From this perspective though, so close to the forest floor, he had no clue anymore. They could have been within howling distance of the house or way out on the far side of the lake, Stiles didn't know, all sense of time: lost.

Suddenly the pack broke through a line of trees and into a small clearing. For the first time in the run, they slowed to a standstill, panting harshly in the chilled air. Jackson appeared to recover first, his tongue retreating back into his mouth and then he faced Scott and barked at him. Scott ignored him, still needing moments more to recover from the exertion of running all that distance. Jackson wouldn't be ignored though. He strode over in front of Scott, dropped his front legs to the ground, haunches still high, tail waving slowly and whined up into Scott's face.

Scott contemplated Jackson while he licked round his muzzle with his large lolling tongue and then deliberately turned and walked away from the semi-prostrate creature but it was all for show because he had got no more than five feet away before he swiftly turned and pounced on the demanding wolf. This set off a tussle which had both wolves rolling around, kicking up snow, each trying to best the other by making it the one that collapsed onto the ground.

Derek lay down on the snow watching the pair. It seemed to Stiles that from time to time, Derek's wolf was amused when either Scott or Jackson played a blinding move and caused the other to fall. For a few minutes Stiles soaked up Derek's reactions to the game but then he got impatient, he wanted to join in too. Please, he begged the wolf and as if he'd been waiting to be asked, the wolf got up and stalked over to the scuffling pair. He barked at them to get their attention and when that was won, launched himself into the melee too.

In an instant Stiles completely lost track of whose leg was whose, which wolf was snapping at which other one, whether he was upright or upside down. The wolves moved with a fast agility which made Stiles feel a little nauseous, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feelings of simple happiness emanating from his host. The game went on for a while, there was no winner, there never was; the point being to play, not to defeat and to learn the tricks and schemes of an opponent. Stiles reckoned it was like some sort of school for ninja wolves, for them to learn their skills.

Eventually, all three of them fell into a pile where they rested, grooming mussed up fur and rolling slowly against each other. Stiles could sense the pack bond, strongest when they were all touching, best when they were all touching. It wasn't like the loyalty he felt to them as humans, it was a more tangible thing, he could almost taste it and he understood the need for it within the pack, to bind them all together and make them one, better together than alone.

Derek slowly stood up, stretching out as he did. He lifted his head up and caught sight of the full moon shining down through the empty branches. Stiles felt something primal within the wolf, assuaged only when the beast tipped his head and howled up at the ethereal moonlight. If the wolf was the master of Derek on this night then the moon was the master of the wolf and it keened out its song to its master. A song of satisfaction and thanks: thanks for the freedom enjoyed; thanks for its pack and its mate. Stiles had heard the song many times and it never failed to leave him awe-struck, each and every time. Now though he understood the nuances: this howl told the moon that the pack was settled and secure; this howl affirmed their connection and that howl, that one was Stiles' special howl. It was the one that told the moon that Derek's wolf possessed its mate, the best mate a wolf could have: steadfast; loyal and loving.

The song broke off for a moment, the other two wolves scrambled up and took over the refrain, yowling their gratitude into the night also. Derek's wolf joined back in and for a time a trio of yips and yelps rent the air. Abruptly the song stopped and the wolves disappeared into the trees once more.

This set the pattern for the night, Stiles knew it now, a headlong dash, a rest, a tumble in the snow and more singing. Once, they stopped at the lake for a much needed drink of the icy-cold water. Nothing had ever tasted as good to Stiles as the liquid that sated Derek's – and his - thirst.

Stiles gradually stopped thinking entirely and subsumed himself in the sensory experience as the wolves roamed through the woodlands. It didn't take long for his human mind to still and he started to feel like a wolf himself, all instinct and senses. He could communicate with Derek's wolf more easily in this animalistic state. From time to time he would say to the wolf, what's that or go there and the wolf would respond and show him.

The wolves had shown no awareness of time but Stiles knew when they became aware of the slight brightening of the sky which signalled the approaching dawn. The run became slightly less hectic and less random and Stiles, humanity increasing in contrast to the wolves' slowing pace, started to notice familiar landmarks. They were nearing home now, exhausted and hearts full of satisfaction.

A light twinkled in the distance and a smell that simply said home teased the air. Now the pack was reduced to walking the final yards, shoulder to shoulder , coming home after partaking in a ritual as old as time.

Arriving outside the house finally, Derek howled quickly as if to say, we're back and momentarily the door opened, revealing Allison in silhouette against the bright indoor light. Derek shook himself before stepping in, a big, long, get-all-this-outside-off-me shake. Stiles thought, Wow, now I know why dogs do that!

The girls had got a fire going inside and one by one the wolves settled in front of it, stretching out and testing aching muscles. Jackson realised there was someone missing, looking around for Lydia.

"It's alright Jacks", said Allison, "she's upstairs with Stiles." Jackson settled back down.

Scott almost immediately started his shift back to human but Jackson and Derek lingered a while longer as wolves. Stiles realised that he would shortly get to experience the shift in reverse if he wasn't careful. As fascinating as it had been to feel it the first time, it was not something that Stiles wanted to live through again anytime soon; maybe one day perhaps, but not again tonight.

Stiles pressed his mind up against the wolf's. Gotta go buddy, thank you so much. He felt the wolf nuzzle against him in return and he slowly started to retreat from the consciousness he'd shared for the entire night.

Whoomph! He was back in his own body. Stiles was momentarily disoriented and promptly fell sideways onto the bed.

"Whoa, are you OK there, Stiles?" asked Lydia.

Stiles could only grunt back at her while his brain tried to reorganise itself back into a human configuration. Slowly sense returned to him, he twitched his fingers and flexed his arms, finding them strong enough to push himself back to upright. He became aware of having a very dry mouth and a blinding thirst. Seeing a bottle of water on the nightstand, he made grabby hands at it until Lydia sussed what he was trying to communicate and passed it over to him.

The bedroom door opened hurriedly and Derek pushed inside, barely dressed, he'd only pulled a pair of jeans on and not even fastened them. He made for the bed and Stiles and pulled the still gulping boy into his arms. Stiles spluttered water everywhere.

"Well?" Derek demanded.

Stiles opened and closed his mouth a couple of times; he hadn't used his voice in well over eight hours, somewhat of a record.

"Oh my God, it was amazing!" he exclaimed, bouncing in Derek's arms. "I don't have the words, seriously, words...gone..."

"I know, you don't have to explain", said Derek, "I felt it all, like you." He reached for Stiles face, cupping his hands round his cheeks and pulling Stiles in for a kiss which turned into a smooch.

"Right, I'll see you downstairs then, when you're ready", said Lydia backing out of the room and closing the door behind her.

Stiles pulled away. "I know your wolf, I understand it now. It's you but it's the very core of you, like a distilled you."

Derek laughed, "It knows you too, it was so happy to have you alongside it tonight. I think it understands that this is a very special and unusual bond and I think it feels a bit smug that it has a mate that can do this wonderful thing."

"It's special, we're special", stated Stiles with certainty.

"Yes, we are", agreed Derek kissing Stiles again, "and you know what else it told me?"

Stiles quirked an eyebrow at him.

"You have some wolf in you."

Stiles slapped at Derek. "Really, now you're being filthy? You can't even give me a few minutes to recover before trying to have your wicked wolfy way?"

"No, idiot, it is a two way link, I don't know how he did it but the wolf sent some of himself back to you."

"Oh", breathed Stiles, "clever wolfy". He turned his mind inward and searched and there, curled up, deep within him, lay a tiny wolf of his own. "My wolf", muttered Stiles.

"Come on, let's go and join the others, I'm starving!" said Derek.

A few days later, when Stiles had got his body clock back in sync, he awoke in Derek's bed just after the sun had risen. There must have been a crack in the curtains because a shaft of light fell across Stiles' face waking him. He blinked in the unaccustomed brightness and got up to pull the curtains together. Something caught his eye outside though and he pushed one of the drapes aside to stare into the garden.

Moving the curtain sent the daylight streaming across Derek's face too and he put his hand up to shield his eyes.

Stiles sighed. "What's the matter?" asked Derek, sitting up.

"Look!" wailed Stiles plaintively. Derek heaved a sigh of his own but nevertheless got up to see what had upset Stiles. In an unconscious repeat of his actions those few weeks back, he once again dragged a blanket with him to ward off the still chilly air.

Stiles flapped a hand in the direction of outside. "The snow's melting. It was so good and the run was the best thing ever and now it's going."

"We'll have other runs; they don't have to be snowy to be good." Derek dropped half of the blanket round Stiles' shoulders.

"Yeah, you're right", admitted Stiles sneaking an arm around Derek. He smiled, "I think we have the perfect life, don't you? With the pack, with us?"

A wicked glint flashed in Derek's eyes. He turned and grabbed Stiles round the waist. "Almost", he smirked.

"Almost?" spluttered Stiles. "What's missing, tell me, what the bloody hell don't we have?"

"Cubs", said Derek.

A/N2: Yeah, couldn't resist that *evil grin*. Now you have an inkling of where we may be heading next.