Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     There's a story that people like to tell when the sun has long since hidden away and the darkness surrounding you seems to speak for itself. A story that sounds better whispered together under the blankets than in the open air of the night; a story that makes shivers run up your spine and the muttering paranoia kick in the back of your mind. A story of a boy.

          They call him Little Red.

          The story goes like this: there's a boy named Little Red. He likes to run with wolves. Not the wolves whose fur is soft; whose paws shake the ground as they chase their unfortunate prey. No, Little Red ran with different wolves - he ran with the wolves whose howls bring goosebumps to your arms, whose eyes gleam flashes of gold just when you might not notice, whose faces look human but their hearts are far from it. Little Red runs with werewolves.

          Little Red runs with werewolves, and he's much more than just a boy. He's more a monster than all the snarling dogs that stand beside him. Little Red wields shining black pistols, blades painted red and a baseball bat worn with age. Little Red runs with wolves, and he has a nasty bite. He's a boy with a sharp tongue that cuts you deeper than any blade could, and a racing mind that you could never think to chase. He's quick and graceful, and each step he takes brings him closer to your grave. They say that he hunts in the night, where the shadows hold him close and the moonlights his way. They say that if you cross him once, you won't get a chance to do it again.

          The story is not just a story, but a warning. A whisper of fear between bedsheets; a promise to those who chase the creatures of the night. You don't hunt Little Red. Little Red hunts you.

     "How many are there?" The girl questions softly, her quiet voice nearly impossible to hear despite the silence surrounding it. The man shifts on his feet, his eyes flashing red as he scans the building. The girl waits patiently for an answer

     "35 at the least," The man mutters back, crouching down beside her. She opens her mouth to respond when suddenly a voice interrupts her.

     "Actually, there's 36 of us," It hisses out, and with a single snap of the man's fingers, a crack resonates through the room. The wicked thump of a body hitting the floor is muted by the quiet laughter of another.

     “ Actually , you got it right the first time," A voice teases, and out of the shadows steps a boy. Dark hair matted over pale skin, bright eyes swimming with mirth, and a baseball coated with blood hanging loosely between lithe fingers. The boy's lips curve into a dark smirk.

"Alpha," The boy purrs deeply, and the man nods back at him.

"Red," The Alpha greets, "There are about 35 left in the building, and from what I can account, they don't know we're here yet."

Red pouts back at the man, curling his fingers more tightly around his bat and swinging it up to rest on his shoulder. The girl stands from her huddled position and places herself beside him, chin up and eyes blazing with war. She grins back at the Alpha with razor-sharp teeth.

"Well, it's no fun if they don't know what name to scream when we rip their throats out," The girl sighs, shaking her head. Red snickers quietly, twirling his bat on his shoulder and tipping his head to the side dangerously. The Alpha raises an eyebrow at the motion, sensing the danger that comes with it.

"You wouldn't mind if we go on ahead, now would you, Alpha?" He questions, "I want to pay La'Bofeau a visit. He has something that belongs to me, and I'd really like to get it back."

"Hurry back," The Alpha dismisses uncaringly, shaking his head, "And leave at least one alive, would you? We need to get some answers."

The two hurry out the door without an answer, as though they'll try their best but could never promise such a thing. The Alpha sits alone in the room, dark eyes gazing out the window with a sigh. He'll be cleaning blood out of his carpet in the morning.

 In the darkness of the woods, silence envelopes the pair as they stalk the building in the clearing. There are two men shifting on their feet in front of the entrance, shaking in their boots as they await what is sure to come. The La'Bofeau Hunters knew all about Little Red and his stories, and they knew now from the fear in their leader's eyes as he rushed down to the basement and locked the door that the stories were true enough. 

     Lance La'Bofeau had taken something from Little Red, the boy who runs with wolves. La'Bofeau ordered his men to guard the old, rundown mill in the middle of Maine woodlands in hopes of hiding away from the boy.

     It was such a shame they didn't just give him up; now they were going to die.

     "Would you like to do the honors?" The girl asks Red, smirking over at him as sharp claws appear on her hand. The boy shakes his head and brings his bat down to swing loosely at his side. 

     "No, I think I'll wait to swing this bad boy until I can properly hear them scream. I don't like the quiet ones, and I want a fun entrance," Red says simply. The girl giggles.

     "You have such a flair for the dramatic," She teases, and in a flash of sudden darkness, she's standing in front of the two men. One of them yelps, flinging himself backward against the door with wide eyes, while the other reaches to his belt. His hand touches nothing but dirt as he falls to the ground, drowning in the blood coming out of his neck. The other cries out as he realizes what has happened.

     He takes one step to get away and ends up beside his friend, chest ripped open to the ribs. Red makes his way into the clearing, prancing on light feet up to the girl.

     "Oh, Maya, could you not have spared the other a moment to run? You know I love a good chase," He frowns. Maya giggles quietly, shaking her head at him. She picks a bit of flesh from beneath her claws and flashes a pair of sharpened canines in his direction.

     "Are you ready?"

     "Let's do this."

     In one swift motion, the door is kicked open, and a bang sounds through the air. Red steps into the room with Maya in tow, his bat twirling in his hands as 35 pairs of eyes turn to stare at him. He takes in the positions in merely 2 seconds before grinning ear to ear, a deranged twinge in his eyes that make many of them step back in tandem.

     "Who wants to die?" He leaves the question hanging in the air for only a moment before he swings, a sickening crack echoing through the mill. The woman standing closest to him drops. It takes only a second before Maya is in the middle of the room, screaming sounds around her. As Red makes his way across the room, people crumble to the floor as he passes. His bat is covered in blood, the handle slick with the liquid, and his hand splattered with red. A small mark dents it near the top when he flings it round to break someone's kneecap.

 "Maya," Red mutters to the girl as yet another man drops in front of her. She turns to him, wiping a bit of blood from her cheek and grins sharply, "Could you finish off the last few? I'm going to get La'Bofeau."

     Maya nods in confirmation before spinning on her heel and slashing her claws through someone's throat. They have no time to scream before she plunges her claws in their chest and shoves them to the ground. Nobody tries to stop him while he makes his way to the door to the basement. He slams his boot into the door and it whips open, a startled gasp escaping the man cowering in the corner. Red lets a dangerous smile creep onto his face as he takes his first step down the stairs.

     Screams surround him from the rest of the mill before he carefully shuts the door behind him, enveloping the basement in muffled silence. The man in the corner heaves out a terrified breath.

     "Peek-a-boo," Red hums, taking two steps down. He slowly brings the bat up to rest in its sheath across his back. Another step down, and he lets his hands fall to rest on the large, sleek knife attached to his hip.

     "P-Please," The man in the corner cries out when Red takes his first step on the ground floor, "Please, I'll do anything! I didn't know it was yours, I didn't know! I'll give you whatever you want, just don't kill me!" 

     Red eyes him in disgust, a frown pulling at his lips.

     "Don't beg for your life, La'Bofeau, it's unbecoming. Take your inevitable death like a man," He snaps. La'Bofeau whimpers at the change in tone. Red smirks at the sound.

     Slow, deliberate steps bring him closer to the shaking man, and Red hums a quiet tune under his breath.

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

The Big Bad Wolf, the Big Bad Wolf

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

Tra la la la la

     "I'll give you anything!" La'Bofeau sobs as Red gets closer and closer, unsheathing his knife and twirling it in his hand. In the near silence of the basement, the screams outside stop. All that can be heard now are shaky breathes coming from the man on the ground and the quiet humming coming from the boy as he stalks his prey. Red pauses in his steps and snorts.

     "And what could you possibly have to give me? Your men are dead, your house is burnt to a crisp, your name is plastered on every newspaper in the city, every bit of your money and fortune has been taken. Your life is over," He giggles. La'Bofeau sobs louder, curling into a ball and tucking his bearded face into his knees. Red sighs deeply at the motion, rolling his dark eyes.

     "That's what I thought," He says boredly, gripping his knife tightly, "Say goodbye-"

     "Information!" La'Bofeau cries out, climbing to his feet as quickly as possible. Red stops in his movement and watches with hawk-like eyes. Behind him, he hears the door creak open. Maya hurries down the steps and appears at his side, her hands covered in blood. She stays silent.

     "What kind of information?" Red questions, irritation seeping into his voice. The man has been stalling since the second Red opened the door, and he's more than ready to just cut the man open for all the trouble. He hasn't even gotten his precious stolen object back yet.

     "Any kind! All of it! I have contacts, all the contacts in the world, I can find anything you want! Anyone, anything, everything !" He rushes out, clasping his hands together in prayer. Maya snickers at the movement. Red hums quietly, contemplating. After a moment of silence, he nods.

     "How about you give me one very good, very valuable piece of information that I could deeply benefit from, and I'll let you go. You only get one chance though! Tell me something I don't like or I already know, and I'll slit your throat."

     "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" La'Bofeau mutters. Silence blankets over the room. Maya and Red wait impatiently for the man to come up with a coherent thought. Maya taps her foot boredly whilst Red just twirls his knife between fingers, humming the tune louder and louder with each passing second.

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

The Big Bad Wolf, the Big Bad Wolf

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

Tra la la la la la

     "I've got it!" La'Bofeau says finally, nodding his head. Red gestures for him to continue in a disinterested wave of his hand.

     "There's a place filled with dark magic," He begins, "A place connected to the land so deeply that even stepping in the town can fill you with power! Hunters far and wide know of it, because it draws in the Supernatural. Those hungry for power are drawn to it, so that's where we like to hunt."

     "Where is it?"

     La'Bofeau pauses, smiling hesitantly at them as though wondering if he had chosen the right piece of information. Maya quirks an eyebrow at him.

     "It's called Beacon Hills."

 Silence rains down upon the trio for only a moment before Red appears in front of the man, plunging his knife deep into his throat. A startled gasp is cut short by a pained gurgle, blood spurting out of the wound and spraying onto the boy's face. He watches in fascination as the knife slowly slides back out, letting even more blood pour from the hole. Maya sighs in satisfaction.

     "Wrong answer," Red whispers softly. He lets the man drop to the floor at his feet, a deranged grin sliding onto his face at the view. He tuts quietly as he waits for the man to stop gasping for air, finally falling limp. He sheathes the knife and turns back to Maya, the grin disappearing from his face. An angry scowl replaces it.

     "I hate it when they talk about that place ," He snarls, stomping past her and up the stairs. She follows behind him obediently, ignoring his mini-temper-tantrum and focusing on maneuvering pas the countless dead bodies stacked up on the floor as they arrive upstairs. Red purposefully grinds his foot on one of the hunter's heads when he begins to stir, crushing the man's temple beneath his heel before twisting his foot. The neck snaps, and he continues on his way.

     "God, I just want to rip their intestines out and paint the wall with their blood every time they say it," He hisses, shoving a body out of his pathway without care. Maya plays a wicked game of hopscotch behind him.

     "One of these days we'll have to take a vacation and go down there for a holiday," She hums, "To visit your dad. Plus, I'm dying to meet the McCall pack."

     Red scoffs, arriving at the door and shouldering it out of his way.

     "Unless my dad is hurt, dying, or dead, there's no fucking way that I will step foot in McCall pack territory again," He says loudly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She tilts her head back and nearly cackles at his words. A crooked smile stretches his face at the odd sentiment, snickering with her. 

     "Damn," She giggles, "I'm really preying on a vacation week." He smiles.

     "I'll see if I can bribe Jason into letting us go to Miami for the next game."

They both go silent, trudging through the woods side-by-side. After a moment, Red resumes his song.

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

The Big Bad Wolf, the Big Bad Wolf

Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

Tra la la la la la

     "Hey, Mica?" Maya asks suddenly, a nervous hesitance present in the subtlety of her tone. Red falters in his steps at the name, glances at her uncertainly. She worries her lip between her teeth as he raises an eyebrow at her. The silence hugs them close as the song disappears into the night air, not even it's echo loud enough to interrupt his watchful eyes. 

     "Yeah?" He wonders, narrowing his eyes as she plasters on a fake smile. Her eyes flick between staring back at him and watching her shoelaces intently, "Maya."

     The firm tone of his voice jolts her from her wandering mind. Maya laughs awkwardly, shaking her head.

     "We got a call yesterday," She starts softly, "From an old... friend of yours. He said that they need our help hunting something that's been terrorizing the city."

     At his panicked expression, she shakes her head frantically and waves her hands in front of her face, "No, no! They didn't call for you specifically; I don't think they know you work with us. They just asked if we could send a few of us down to help out."

     They both go silent once again, Maya purposefully kicking up dirt with each step she takes. Red glares at the trees in front of him, his eyes darkening at the thought of what that call meant. After a few moments of quiet, Maya tilts her head up to the sky and breathes deeply. Red glances at her.

     “Jason went on ahead, he’s probably wrapping the car in plastic so we don’t get blood on his seats,” She snickers. Red huffs a laugh at the thought, going silent once more.

     “We can’t go back,” He says quietly. Maya nods beside him, “God knows if I step back in that town as Little Red my dad will have a heart attack three years too early.” She giggles before falling back into a solemn expression.

     “I get it, Mica, I do. I didn’t even really consider it, but I wanted you to know that they called. I know you don’t care about them anymore, but your dad lives there and he is involved with this world. Just in case you decided to give him a call or something, check in to make sure he’s doing okay.”

     Red nods along absentmindedly.

     “I know,” He sighs, “I’ll call him.”

     “Right now,” She orders, glaring him down when he starts to protest, “I know you, Mica, and I know that if you don’t do it now you won’t do it at all.”

     Red flips her off quickly before pulling his phone out and dialing the number. She sends him a smug grin at the act, while he just sneers back at her. It rings three times before it picks up.

     “Hello, how may I help you?” A woman’s voice asks politely into the phone, and they both pause to frown at each other.

     “Hi there,” He greets smoothly, “Is John Stilinski around?

     “The Sheriff is not available at the moment, to whom am I speaking?”

     “Mic-” He coughs, “Stiles Stilisnki, I’m his son.”

    Silence greets him back from the other side for a solid 5 seconds before the voice returns.

     “Hello, Stiles! We haven’t heard a word from you in so long, we thought maybe-”

     “Where’s my dad, Lorraine?” He interrupts her irritably, rolling his eyes at the woman on the other side. His secretary is an angel, but Lord is she a chatterbox. He always found it was easy to converse with her as a kid since he was too. Now he can’t help but roll his eyes at the endless spew of words she was sure to give him.

     “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Stiles, your father’s been hospitalized! He just got out of surgery a good 4 hours ago!” She cries. Red tenses, raising his chin to snarl into the phone. Maya stares at him in concern.

     “Why?” He snaps. Lorraine lets out a strangled cough at the dark tone.

     “Well, he hasn’t given a statement yet, but we all have some theories around the office from what it looks like-”

     “ Lorraine ,” Red growls.

     “We think it was an animal attack! They had to stitch him back together and damn near replace his lung since it was so close to being punctured! Thank God he’s stable now, but there was so much blood- oh, I’m sorry I didn’t call you when he came in but I didn’t have your number! It wasn’t even saved on his phone,” She rushes out so quickly Red nearly doubles over at the speed at which his brain connects the dots.

     Beside him, Maya snarls deep in her throat at the news. He does the same. He takes three long, deep breaths before speaking again.

     “It’s alright, Lorraine, I haven’t called in a long time. Was he bitten or just scratched up?” Red masks his tone to sound curious and concerned, but Maya knows just by the murderous look on his face that he isn’t just worried - he’s livid.

      “Yes, I saw a nasty one on his left shoulder,” She tells him. He clenches his fist at his side and nods jerkily.

     “Alright,” He says slowly, turning to meet Maya’s eyes. She nods at him once, and he bows his head to stare at his feet. They stopped walking minutes ago - he never noticed.

     “Alright,” He repeats, “Let him know when he wakes up that I’ll be coming to see him. Tell him not to let anyone else know, though, would you, Lorraine?” 

     “Oh, good, will it be a surprise for your old friends? You know, that Scott McCall-”

     “Yes, Lorraine,” Red snaps, “It will be quite the surprise. Tell him not to say anything, and keep that secret yourself.”

     She agrees happily, clearly missing the rough snarl beneath his words. 

     “See you soon!” She cheers, and he hangs up without returning the farewell. Maya watches him closely. 

     “I am going to kill Scott McCall if my dad turns into a werewolf because his damned pack couldn’t take care of him,” He roars, slamming his fist into a tree beside him. Maya doesn’t so much as flinch.

     “He has time before the bite sets in, and from what she just said, he was attacked about 5 hours ago. If we head back now, pack, catch a flight, and get there within the next 10 hours, you can drain it out of him before it can change him,” She hurries. He nods quickly, barely even acknowledging her words before rushing off into the woods. She scurries behind him, letting out an indignant squawk at his disappearance. 

     Within minutes the car arrives insight with the man sitting in the front seat, skimming through his phone. He glances up at them and raising an eyebrow at the blood they’re both drenched in. Maya pops open the door and climbs into the backseat while Red hops into the front passenger.

     “Drive to the den, now,” She demands, and the tires screech on the asphalt before the car takes off. She hurriedly explains the situation to him. Red applies in his input when needed, though most of his words are comprised of death threats toward the McCall pack and all parties involved. He doesn’t mention any of them by name.

     “I’m going with you,” Maya adds as they arrive at the den. Jason nods along. Red agrees without a thought, waving them away before rushing into the house and stripping his clothes off. He doesn’t bother to shower, and instead just shrugs on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, shoving his blood-covered red hoodie into a suitcase along with other clothes, his necessities, and a couple of herbs for spells. Within 25 minutes he’s back out the door.

     In the living room, the pack in settled in a circle, waiting for him. Maya and Jason stand in the center, clearing having just explained where they were going. He nods at them, wetting a rag with water and wiping it along his face. Showing up at an airport with blood sprayed across his cheek doesn’t seem the most brilliant of ideas.

     “Are we all going, or just you three?” A woman speaks up. The others nod along. 

     “I’m not sure if you should-” Jason begins. Red cuts him off.

     “You’re all coming,” He interferes. Jason blinks at him in surprise.

     “Are you sure?” He asks uncertainly, concern washing over his features. To be in Beacon Hills again will most likely push Red onto the more feral side of the spectrum, and he’s always tried his best to keep his murderous alter ego farther from the rest of the pack. Only Maya and sometimes Jason get to watch him in his darker mindset.

     “Absolutely. If I’m doing this, I’ not doing it along,” He says strongly. Jason frowns at him when he notices the nervous skip of his heartbeat and the slight tremor in his voice. Maya wraps an arm around Jason’s waist and buries her nose in his neck.

     “June,” He begins, “Can you book us all tickets? We have more than enough money, and I’m sure there’s at least one flight near here that goes close to Beacon Hills within the next two hours.” 

     June whips out her phone and taps away.

     “Nathan,” Jason says, and the man stands at attention, “Can you pack some bags for you guys? I figure that we’ll have to stay in town for at least a week, so just pack enough for the next few days and we’ll all go shopping if necessary.” The man stomps up the stairs, flashing Red a light smile. 

     “Harley,” Red says softly, crouching down. A young girl watches him determinedly, blazing heat in her eyes as she inspects his face. He's sure he looks a mess - stray specks of blood on his jawline that he missed, tired eyes, a weary frown that seems permanently stuck to his lips at the dark thought that he’s going back to the town he swore he’d never step foot in again. The rest of the pack is doing their best to ignore it and give him space. Bailey doesn’t notice the social queues.

     “Harley,” He repeats, “Can you help me make a few snacks for the way to California? I haven’t eaten in nearly two days and I’m craving a ham and cheese sandwich.” 

     Harley doesn’t reply. She just stares at his face with a neutral expression, her black curls falling into her face when she tilts her head to the side. She’s looking right into his eyes. He looks right back.

     “We’re going to the Bad Place,” She says. It’s not a question, just a simple statement. He doesn’t have to agree - she already knows well enough.

     “Am I going to meet your Pa?” She inquires. He nods. She stares into his eyes some more, “Is he going to be happy to see us?” He hesitates before reluctantly shaking his head.

     “Probably not, Lee,” Red sighs, “I haven’t talked to my Pa in a long time, and the last time I did, it wasn’t a nice goodbye. He doesn’t know that I have you-” He falters.

     “Is he going to be happy to meet me? You haven't told him that I exist yet,” Lee tells him. Red huffs out half a laugh, shaking his head at her in bemusement.

     “I’m sure he’ll be happy to meet you, Lee, I just don’t think he’ll be happy to meet me.”

     “He knows you, though, doesn’t he?”

     “Not exactly. He knew the old me - he knew Stiles Stilinski. Not Mica Covelo. Not Little Red.”

     Harley stares at him for another moment, her eyes basically glowing in the dimly lit kitchen, before she nods her head in a silent decision and heads over to the fridge.

     “Do you want mayonnaise on your sandwich?”

     Jason steps into the kitchen, two suitcases in his hands, with the rest of the pack in tow.

      “I’m sorry, Mica, Lee, but you’re going to have to settle for stale chips for the time being. We have a flight in 42 minutes and we have no time to miss it. Now grab your shit and get in the car,” He orders, stalking back out of the room. Maya winces at the words, tossing a quarter into a jar labeled ‘Curse Jar - All Proceeds Go To Harley’ on her way out.

    “I guess we’re going to help with that case after all,” She hums out the door. Nathan and June pass by them without a word, though June makes a point in ruffling Red’s hair as she goes by. He rolls her eyes at the movement. Nathan snickers. 

     “Hey, Pa?” Lee questions. Red glances at her as he takes her hand in his and grabs his suitcase in his other, “Is there an ice cream parlor in the Bad Place?”

     Red leads her out the door and shuts it behind them, locking it. He mutters a quick warding spell beneath his breath and then takes their seats in the car. She sits in his lap in the front.

     “Yeah, there is. And I’ll buy you as many cones as you want after we see my Pa, okay?”

     “Okay. I’m getting mint chip.”

     “You’re getting anything other than mint chip. I raised you better than that.”

     “It’s delicious, Pa!”

     “This is a tragedy!”

Chapter Text

     Within 15 minutes of landing at the Beacon Hills airport, Red had one of the largest panic attacks he can remember since the Troll Incident of 2015. June and Maya watch him nervously, rubbing small circles on his back and whispering sweet nothings. Jason hugs Nathan silently, watching him over the man’s shoulder. He doesn’t say a word. Harley stares at him silently, waiting for him to calm down before handing him a bag of chips and leading him back to the car. They stopped at the side of the freeway when Red said that he was going to throw up. He came up with nothing, only dry heaving until his lungs couldn’t take it anymore.

     He wasn’t surprised by this. He had been waiting for a panic attack since the moment he found out his dad was hurt - it was all in due time that his mind came back full circle from the tracks it had been running.

     “Do you want to stop at the burger place a few exits ahead? We haven’t eaten much, and I figure that even if you didn’t chuck up anything your stomach is probably driving you crazy,” June questions, raising her voice to speak over Jason as he yells at an SUV to ‘get the fuck off the road, you buttfuck!’ 

     Red nods along, sighing quietly at the thought of a nice, juicy hamburger. It’s been ages since he had the time to eat a proper meal, what with having to track down La’Bofeau before he managed to catch a flight to God-Knows-Where. It had taken nearly 3 weeks for them to finally catch a scent (pun intended), and he’s always had the habit of forgetting to eat when he’s researching.

     Besides, as he always defends himself, who wants to have a meal of steak and potatoes in your stomach when you’re cutting a man’s intestines out with his own knife?

     In his lap, Harley chastises Jason for his language, poking the man’s shoulder indignantly.

     “You owe me a quarter!” She demands. Jason waves her off, apologizing halfheartedly. June smacks Nathan upside the head when he shoves her out of the way to reach for the backpack full of snacks. 

     “That hurt, you sausage!” He cries. 

     Maya laughs loudly, “Is that your way of calling her a dick?” She asks, handing Harley two quarters as she does so. The girl grins at the sight of coins. 

     “Does your dad know that you’re coming back?” Jason asks quietly as the rest of the pack chatters in the backseat. Harley listens to them silently, selecting to wait for the right time to ask her own questions.

     “Possibly,” Red sighs, “I let his secretary know that I’d be on my way, and I’m sure she’ll tell him when he wakes up. I just don’t know if he’s up yet.”

     “What are you going to do about the McCall pack?” Jason questions, “I mean, this is their territory, so I’ll have to introduce the pack as a sign of goodwill and respect, even if I don’t mean it. To be in another pack’s territory without properly letting them know could cause issues.”

     “I’m aware of territorial pack etiquette, Jay,” Red deadpans. Jason flips him the bird carelessly, rolling his eyes. Harley huffs at the motion. 

     “I’m more than certain you do. What I’m trying to say is that we’ll have to confront them sooner or later, whether you want to or not. I’m just asking if you want me to take Maya and get it over with quietly and without drama but have you end up randomly stumbling into one of the Mutts and having a showdown, or if you want to greet them as a pack, get past the inevitable questions, and then run off to have a good cry when we get a hotel room.”

     Red scowls at the road. 

     “You couldn’t have phrased that in a way that doesn’t make me sound like a little bitch?” He groans. Harley puts her hand out; he tosses her his wallet from his pocket. Jason only glances at him slyly, a smirk dancing on his lips. Beneath the mirth, an inkling of concern floats in his irises. It’s obvious that under all the teasing, he’s deeply worried for his pack and how it’ll all go down.

     In all honesty, Red is more terrified of the idea of looking Scott McCall and Derek Hale in the eyes again. 

     “I want us to go as a pack,” He says slowly, “I want them to understand that I have an Alpha, I have a Right Hand. I have a pack. I want them to understand that I am not back to be their little pet again, and I’m sure as Hell not back to stay.”

     “If your Dad doesn’t know that I exist, they don’t either, right?” Harley pops in. Red shakes his head at her, holding the girl’s frail body against his chest and plopping his chin on her head.

     “No, they don’t. So when you meet them, I want you to be real nice, okay, Queenie? Because they’re a pack, and we’re in their territory now. You remember how I taught you to act in front of other packs, don’t you?” He asks. She nods dutifully, her face schooling into dull features. Sometimes, Red can’t help but feel a little afraid of how much she took after him. The duality between an innocent child and a brilliant mind is all too great.

     “Hello. My name is Harleen Covelo, of the Lance Pack. I am the daughter of Mica Covelo, heir to the Covelo Dynasty in Mexico. Thank you for accepting my pack into your territory, it is my pleasure to be here,” She recites. 

     “Good job, Queenie!” Maya cheers in the backseat. She’s seated on June’s lap, happily scarfing down a bag of Cheetos, “You got it down perfectly!” She wiggles her Cheeto fingers at the girl before June snatches the bag away from her, rolling her eyes fondly.

     “She’s right, Lee, that’s exactly how I taught you. Just do it like that when we greet the pack and everything will go smoothly, alright?” Red says. Harley grins at the praises.

     “Alright, everyone pipe down so I can order. And before you ask, no, Nathan, I won’t buy you chicken nuggets,” Jason orders. Nathan groans loudly in the backseat, purposefully smacking his head against the window and whining high in his throat. June pokes him in the side with a giggle. 

     After they got their food and ate in the car (with the entirely serious threat that if a single drop of ketchup got on his seats, Jason would skin them alive and rub mustard in the wounds), the pack passed the Beacon Hills town line.

      ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills, the magical city! We hope you enjoy your stay!’

     That’s a red herring if he’s ever seen one.

     “We’re here,” Harley cheers, unaware of the way Red sits tensely in his seat. Subtly, he counts his fingers one by one up to ten as they rest at his sides. Jason threads his hand through Red’s when he notices, keeping one hand on the wheel. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to.

     “We’ve eaten, everyone’s gone to the bathroom, everyone has slept at least 3 hours on the flight here,” Jason lists off, nodding his head, “So I think we’ll be fine to go straight to the hospital. Mica, have you got all the herbs necessary to drain the bite from him?”

     “Of course,” He confirms.

     “Good. You head on up to the room and start the spell. Maya, go with him and guard the door just in case a nurse wants to come in. If they ask why they can’t enter…” He hesitates, shrugging, “Just cry a lot and say that Stiles needs a moment alone with his father.”

     Red rolls his eyes at the name. Maya snickers, nodding along. She’s extremely proud of her ability to burst into tears whenever she pleases - it comes in handy for any and all missions. However, the pack tends to hate the ability - Nathan can’t resist it and always ends up losing Mario Kart to her whenever she starts upon it. 

     “Nathan, you and June stay outside the hospital and keep watch for the McCall pack. Come find us if they arrive, don’t bother trying to keep them outside. Come warn us the second the cars park,” He says. They agree, “And Harley, you’ll come with me up to the room with your dad, ‘kay? He’s going to need us when his dad is feeling all better.”

     Harley looks at Red.

     “Can I watch you do magic? Please, dad, please? I love it when you use it, I promise I won’t interrupt the process! I just want to watch!” She pleads. 

      “Of course you can, Queenie, as long as you promise to be good. This spell is super important, and if I mess up it can really hurt your grandad,” Red says sternly. Harley agrees happily.

     “I would never, dad, you know that,” She remarks, “I’m always polite during the spells.”

     Red only smiles, because he knows it’s true.

     The car pulls into the hospital parking lot, and Red is out the door before Jason even pulls the keys out of the ignition. He swoops Harley up into his arms and pulls his ID out of his wallet in one smooth movement, pushing open the doors with his hip. Harley buries her face into his neck and wraps her arms around his shoulders. She’s never been a fan of hospitals - each member of the pack has been in one too many times for her to have good memories of them.

     To be back here, in Beacon Hills Hospital, staring down at Melissa McCall as she taps away at her keyboard at the front desk, is almost enough to send Red directly into a therapy session. 8 years away from this place, and one look at a hospital waiting room he spent one too many hours in springs tears to his eyes. Harley hums a quiet tune under her breath when he tightens his grip on her.

     Before he can lose what little nerve he managed to wrack up in that 15-minute panic attack on the side of the freeway, he steps into Melissa’s view and taps on the bell sitting on the counter. She looks up at him with a soft smile, obviously not registering that it’s him. After all, it is about 5 in the morning, and judging by the tired look in her eyes, he figures she’s been working since 8:00 last night.

     “Hello,” He says softly, “What room number is John Stilinski in? I’m here to visit.”

     Melissa sighs deeply, clicking a few keys on her computer and pulling up a visitor’s sign up sheet. She doesn’t seem to notice what’s going on yet.

     “Friend or family?” She asks.

     “Family.”

     Melissa pauses in her typing for a moment to turn to look at him fully. He watches silently as her eyes drag over his slightly shaggy hair cut, his dark eyes, his tattoos, his scars and cuts and bruises, the girl swept up in his arms, and the slight flash of the gun sitting in its holster peeking out from under his AC/DC t-shirt. 

     It’s a miracle what a sturdy reputation can get you - one dark look sent to the werewolf working the airport security, and he’s boarding the plane with a fully loaded, shiny, black revolver in his pocket.

     God Bless America.

     “Oh my god,” Melissa begins quietly, her hazel eyes widening by the second. If Red didn’t know any better, he’d say that it was with inhuman speed at which she began to weep. His own eyes widen at the sight, and he quickly becomes flustered. Eyes turn to stare at them all around the waiting room. Harley peeks over his shoulder to glare at a woman when she starts to make her way over. She stops her movement and sits back in her seat.

     “Oh my god,” She chokes out once again, hunching over to sob into her hands. Behind him, Jason and Maya step into the building and arrive at his sides. Maya stares at the woman in mild disinterest, while Jason whips his head around to snarl at Red.

     “What the fuck, Mica, you get here 5 minutes ago and already you’re making random people cry?” He snaps. Red stutters slightly, shaking his head. 

     “Not random people, Jay. This is Melissa McCall,” He explains, and Melissa raises her red-rimmed eyes to stare at the mini group in awe and confusion. Jason nods, rocking back on his heels and going silent. He knows all about her - about his second mom.

     “Stiles,” She sobs once again, stumbling out of her chair and racing around the counter to stand in front of him, “Oh god, is that really you?”

     “It is, Ms. McCall. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” He says gently. Out of all the people in Beacon Hills, his father and Ms. McCall were the only people he regretted leaving behind. His father, for obvious reasons, but Ms. McCall for the sheer fact that she was basically his own mother. Scott McCall be damned, Melissa was family no matter what her jackass of a son did.

     “It’s been-” Melissa hiccups, “It’s been 8 years , Stiles, with no calls and no texts and no information at all! You could have died and I’d never have known a thing!”

     “I know, Ms. McCall, and I’m so sorry. I really am. But how about you bring me up to see my dad, I help him out and save him from becoming a furry, and then I explain everything. Okay?” He needles delicately. Harley squirms in his arms, and he carefully sets her on the ground. Melissa lets out a strangled gasp as if just now realizing that there was a girl in his arms.

     “Hello, Ms. McCall,” She says, sticking out a hand, “My name is Harley. We’ve never met before, but my dad has told me a few stories of you before bed. It’s nice to meet you. I like your hair clip.”

     Melissa laughs brokenly, reaching out and shaking the girl’s hand.

     “Thank you, Harley, I like my hair clip too. It’s nice to meet you as well. I hope the stories he’s told have been good?” She asks, sniffling slightly when she glances up to see Red slip his hand into Maya’s. She gives him a comforting squeeze. Jason wraps his arms around his waist tightly.

     “Oh yeah,” Harley nods happily, “He told me all about the time when you took him to the park for his birthday because my grandaddy was working and bought him ice cream, and he also told me about how you gave him the spare bedroom at your house because he came over so much. Oh, and how you were such a good nurse! He told me this one story about when you gave him a shot and knocked him out because he wasn’t sleeping enough. You took good care of him when the Nogistune was taking over his body.”

     Melissa startles, staring at her in surprise as she rambles on. Red meets her eyes carefully. He nods once, as though reassuring himself, before wrapping his arm around Harley and pulling her into him. 

     “I’ve told her all the good stories about your cooking, too,” He says tenderly, “She even has me make your special lasagne every Friday after I let it slip that it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. It’s her favorite.”

     Melissa smiles sadly, watching him for a moment before nodding.

     “I would ask you all about her and her mother, as well as these friends you have at your side, but I’ll let you see your father first. I’m sure that’s why you’re here,” She stumbles out, nodding at Jason and Maya. Jason nods back at her in recognition. Maya smiles at her.

     They follow her onto the fourth floor and stop before a door. Maya finally slips her hand out of Red’s.

     “He’s probably still out like a light. You can head on in, take as much time as you need. If anyone else comes to visit, I’ll let them know that they have to wait a bit,” She tells him, wiping her eyes off on her sleeve quickly and flashing them all a watery smile. Harley steps forward and shoves her hand into Red’s pocket. He quirks an eyebrow in her direction, but otherwise lets her.

     She pulls out a napkin from the burger place that Jason had begged the cashier to give him; he took an entire box full and just showered the car with them with a loud declaration of ‘get your greasy fingers on my seats and I’ll break you’. Red kept a few in case he had to wipe the blood off his dad’s wound while he performed the spell.

     This seems like a much less morbid use of napkins.

     Harley hands it to her with a passive face, and Melissa wipes her face off with a grateful smile.

      “I’ll leave you to it,” She says softly, turning to walk away. Red reaches out and catches her elbow before she can scurry off to her duties. She jumps, spinning around once more and looking at him in surprise.

     He offers no explanation. Instead, he just pulls the woman into his arms and cradles her to his chest, struggling to keep the tears at bay. Maya rests a light hand on Harley’s shoulder. Jason pulls them both into his side.

     “I am so sorry I left you,” He mutters into her hair, and Melissa lets out a broken sob. The unspoken words are there, but I couldn’t stay here. He doesn’t continue. She can’t quite tell if it’s because he knows she recognizes it, or if it’s because he can’t bring himself to say it.

      “It’s good to see you again,” Melissa whispers, “You’re so grown up.”

      He cracks a sad smile at that, “I didn’t have a choice in the matter.” She huffs out a laugh, not entirely sure if he means in general or if he had to force himself to do so. He left at 18 years old after being possessed by a demon that almost killed one of his best friends. He grew up too fast too soon.

     Finally, they part, and Melissa sends him one last smile before rushing off to clean up. She does have a job to do, after all. Harley sends her off with an apathetic gaze and childlike waves. Melissa doesn’t know what to think of that.

     “You ready?” Maya asks. Red wipes a hand over his face and pulls the jar of wolfsbane extract from his jacket pocket. 

      “Nope,” He exclaims in faux cheeriness, lands a kiss on his daughter’s forehead, and pulls into his side. They disappear in the door.

     “Will he be okay?” Maya mutters. Jason sighs deeply, collapsing into one of the waiting chairs beside the door and drops his head into his hands. 

      “He’s back in Beacon Hills, Maya,” He says darkly, “And it’s a sure thing that he’ll see the McCall pack. I just pray to any God out there that when he does, it doesn’t reopen those wounds. You remember what he was like before Cherry, don’t you?”

     Maya grimaces both at the name and the mere thought of the young boy they once knew him as. Broken. Self-destructive. Afraid. And so, so young.

     “It took him so long to open up to Cherry, ya’ know? Took him months and months for him to stop flinching when she touched him, for him to stop waking up screaming from the nightmares. It took him almost a year and a half for him to stop having panic attacks whenever I flashed my eyes at the pack. God, Maya, he was shattered when he had to tell us about this place. You remember that night, don’t you?”

     “Of course I do,” She murmurs, shifting on her feet, “He had 6 panic attacks within two hours, and ended up literally throwing up in the sink when he finally managed to tell us about Allison.”

      They both cringe at the memory, and Jason slumps.

     “I’m just worried for him, you know? I don’t want him to start having nightmares again, I don’t want him to let that… that dog back into his life,” He spits the word out like it’s venom on his tongue, snarling at the ground, “But somehow, I can’t help but think it’s inevitable.”

      “I know what you mean,” Maya nods, “Being back in this town will bring up old memories. Being in this hospital alone is enough to remind him of when Void had him when his friends were hurt when he was hurt. And it’s just going to keep happening - no matter where we go, it’s going to remind him of everything he’s been through.”

     “Shit,” Jason curses suddenly, loudly, burying his face into his palms and letting out a shaky breath, “I can’t lose him, Maya, I can’t-”

     “You won’t! We won’t, ” She says firmly, crouching down in front of him and lifting his face. She meets his eyes determinedly, glaring at him, “We won’t lose him too. Not after Cherry.”

    He lets out a hurried, cracked breath and nods jerkily, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. They sit in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the shuffling of doctors and patients in other rooms, and their own breathing.

     “Guys!” June’s panicked voice brings them back, and they both look up as Nathan and June appear in front of them, “The McCall pack just rolled up. Melissa’s stalling them cause we asked when she came back to the front desk, but they really want to know who’s in the room with him. Melissa tried to say it was just a deputy but McCall said that it could wait because he’ll be turning soon and they have to be there to calm him down when it happens.”

     “Fuck,” Nathan groans, and they all perk up to listen as Melissa gives in to the pack four floors down, “They’re on their way. Do we tell Mica?”

     “Can’t, it’ll break the spell and God knows what’ll happen if it breaks,” Maya rushes out, standing up with Jason. Nathan flicks out his claws in preparation - just in case.

     “We have company,” Jason sings, and they all straighten up. The four of them line up in front of the door, pretending to act casual when the elevator dings and very-obviously-a-group-of-werewolves come tumbling out. They pause at the sight of strangers standing in front of the Sheriff’s hospital door.

     “Who are you,” One of the men demands, stalking forward with all broad shoulders and a permanent scowl. Maya figures that this one must be Hale. It’s not even a question he just asked - he just said it like a declaration.

     “Wow,” She says slowly, sarcasm dripping from her tongue like ill-disguised poison, “Mica was right in his descriptions. Pretty face, flowing hair, magical eyebrows that make me all hot and bothered, oh boy, you must be Derek Hale. Nice to meet ya’, my name is none of your business.” 

     June snickers at her side, covering it up as a shitty excuse for a cough. Jason cracks a sly smirk. Hale scowls deeper, furrowing his eyebrows and narrowing his eyes at the group. A man with an obviously crooked jaw steps forward, and Maya raises a hand to stop him. He pauses.

     “Crooked jaw, dopey eyes, dumbass haircut,” She lists off, “Scott McCall, hello.” He huffs at her, stepping back in a slight surprise. Hale growls deeply at her words, and it almost looks as though some of their betas’ hackles rise. Maya rolls his eyes. Jason sets a heavy hand on her shoulder and wipes away his muffled laughter, stepping forward. She goes silent - he’s got business in his eyes.

     “I apologize for her wording, she hasn’t got the best first impression from you and she tends to go off of appearance over personality when it comes to those,” He sighs. Maya mutters something akin to ‘not that their personalities are any fuckin’ better’ but otherwise doesn’t protest.

     “We would introduce ourselves, but we have a few members of our pack missing. We’ll put that off for later,” Jason tells them. The pack looks about ready to pounce. Nathan still hasn’t put his claws away yet, “So, for now, I will settle with telling you that we mean to harm to Mr. Stilinski. We heard of his… condition, and we came to help him.”

     “Help him how, exactly? You’re obviously werewolves, so you must know that there’s no cure to becoming a were,” A woman demands, stepping forward. She has a powerful air around her, shining brightly as though illuminated by her own presence. Maya smiles at her, dropping her smirk and replacing it with a warm smile. They all blink in confusion.

     “Flowing red hair, just like Cherry’s, beautiful face, powerful voice, great sense of style, nice to meet you, Lydia Martin, I mean it sincerely this time,” Maya says, raising her hand for Lydia to shake. She takes it hesitantly, but Maya just shakes it happily and releases her. 

     “I’ve heard good things about you, Ms. Martin, it’s nice to put a face to an overly detailed description and a long list of attributes,” Jason smiles lightly. June giggles into her hand and glances back at the door. She can hear Harley whispering to Red inside.

     “Oh?” Lydia hums, “And who exactly gave you that information?”

     “We have many contacts that have had experiences with many people,” Jason shrugs. Lydia narrows her eyes at him but doesn’t say anything about his obvious deflection from the actual questions. She just nods her head decisively and allows Hale to speak once more.

     “How do you think you’ll be saving him?” He sneers. Jason sneers back tightly, a flash of red in his irises when Hale thinks his own authority can make him back down. The pack tenses at the sight of Jason with red eyes.

     “We have our ways,” He snaps. 

     “Are you an Alpha pack?” McCall questions quickly. Maya nods proudly, stepping forward to speak when Jason smacks her over the head. She huffs irritably, fixing her hair.

     “ No ,” He grinds out, flashing a glare at Maya, “We aren’t. I’m the Alpha. The rest are my betas.”

     “Who is inside with the Sheriff-”

     The door opens behind Nathan and June. Everyone turns to watch as Harley skips out with a small, half-full jar of wolfsbane extract in her hand. The cap is nowhere to be found. 

     “Are you Scott McCall and Derek Hale?” She asks giddily, rushing forward. Both packs cringe at the stench of the wolfsbane.

     “Yeah, why?” McCall groans, moving to cover his nose with his hand.

     “Oh,” Harley says slowly, the happy grin on her face sliding off in one eerily fast motion. She stares at them with empty eyes, “Then I guess I won’t feel sorry about this after all.”

     And with that final sentence, she flings the bottle up into the men’s faces. They erupt into screams, falling to the ground and clawing at their faces. Red appears at the pack’s sides, yanking Harley onto his back and booking it down the hallway. The pack follows closely behind, Jason not-so-accidentally dropping a business card on the seat by the door on the way out. The McCall pack does not follow them.

Little Red

(***)***_****

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Chapter Text

     “What the fuck was that?!” Jason snaps angrily, shoving Red up against the nearest wall with a snarl. Harley watches on from the sidelines, pushing away Nathan’s hand when he tries to lead her away from the situation. 

     “I-I don’t-” Red started, gasping out a breath as his body trembles against Jason’s grip. There are tears in his eyes, and it looks as though he’s struggling to breathe. Jason blinks, shaking him lightly.

     “Mica-”

     “I couldn’t do it,” He chokes out, his eyes wide and panicked. He’s staring right at Jason, but his eyes are unseeing, “My dad- my dad, he was just fucking ripped apart, Jason, like the werewolf, it tried to dig his heart out or something! A-And God Jason I could hear them talking to you and Scott sounds the exact same as he did the day I left and Lydia was there and Derek was fucking growling and I couldn’t do it! I can’t see them yet, I can’t, I can’t-”

     “Mica!”

     Red goes silent, his body convulsing with the lack of oxygen, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes are flitting over Jason’s face, his hands grasping for his Alpha’s shoulders. He grips him rightly right before his knees buckle, and they both lower to sit on the ground.

     “Breathe, Mica, breathe,” Jason mutters into his hair, holding the sobbing man close to his body, “After that little stunt with Harley, I doubt you’ll be seeing them for a while.”

     Red let out a strangled laugh, tucking his face into his Alphas neck and closing his eyes. Harley steps forward, shrugging June’s hand off her shoulder and appearing in front of them. She crouches before them, resting a soft hand on her dad’s arm. He stretches out, grasping the girl and pulling her into his chest. He holds her tightly, smiling sadly when she starts to hum a quiet tune. 

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars 

Let me see what spring is like

On Jupiter and Mars

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, darling kiss me

     “You know,” He starts quietly, lifting his head to glance down at the girl in his arms. Jason tucks his face into the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder and breathes, scenting him, “You sound just like your mother when you sing that song. She used to hum that song to get you to fall asleep when you were just a baby.”

      Harley smiles up at him, “What was she like?”

     Red let out a long, deep sigh, sagging against Jason. He pulls her closer to him and presses a chaste kiss to her forehead. Longing twinkles in his irises.

     “She was the most remarkable woman I have ever met,” He starts softly, gazing down at her, “And you look just like her.” Harley giggles. “She had the most beautiful red hair in the world and pretty green eyes that look just like yours. And she was tall and fair and so elegant, graceful in a way that I never thought was possible.” 

     Maya takes a seat beside them, pulling June into her side and leaning her head against Nathan. They stay silent, aside from the occasional sniffle Maya makes. Her eyes are filled with despair. 

     “Her voice was sweet and she had about a million freckles. I always tried to count them all when she wasn’t looking. I never quite managed to get them all,” A melancholy smile adorns his lips as he closes his eyes, “And her laugh was just like yours, too. Loud and clear and so beautiful. And she just had the kindest, most angelic heart-” He pauses, taking a deep breath, “And I wish you could have properly met her.”

     “I wish that, too,” She replies quietly. Red doesn’t reply, only pressing another kiss to her forehead and pulling her up with him as he stumbles to his feet. Jason climbs up with him, lending a hand to Maya and June. 

      “She loved you a lot, Harley,” He finally speaks, “You were the greatest thing that ever happened to either of us, and you still are.”

     Nathan claps a heavy hand on his head, ruffling his hair up.

     “Hey, Mica?” Red quirks an eyebrow at him, “Your old friends are assholes.”

     Red laughs, shaking his head.

     “No shit!”

     “Quarter,” Harley says monotonously, and Nathan hands her a $10 bill without hesitation.

     “That should cover the next…” He checks his watch dramatically, “15 minutes?” 

     “Oh god,” June groans, and Maya snickers behind her. She takes a small step over to Red and threads her fingers through his, squeezing tightly. She grins over at Harley when she looks over, but quickly drops the expression. Her eyes shine with unshed tears. Red holds her just as tightly.

     “I need a motherfuckin’ goddamn shitty ass cup of coffee,” Nathan cheers, and Harley glares at the $10 in her hand. June lets out a boisterous laugh as Nathan sweeps her into his arms and sprints toward the car, Harley following close behind. Maya lets go of Red hand, sending him a soft smile as she walks away. 

     Jason presses his palm against the small of Red’s back, pushing him forward. They walk together silently, the sound of laughter erupting in front of them. 

     “Thank you,” Red whispers. His Alpha just smiles.

      “Always.”

      “Hurry the fuckity fuck up you goddamn assholes, I need some fuckin’ coffee!” Nathan calls out. Red rushes forward quickly, tackling Nathan to the ground before he could make it to the passenger side seat.

     “Shotgun!” They both cry out loudly, and Nathan groans below him.

      “Get in the car you dumb fucks!” June laughs. Red clambers over his fallen body, literally leaping into the car through the window headfirst. He struggles to climb inside fully, his legs sticking out the window. Nathan grabs a hold of his left leg, trying to yank him out. Jason opens the driver’s side door and climbs in, not sparing them a glance.

     “If you aren’t both properly in your seats with your seatbelts on and your mouths shut within the next 10 seconds I will rip your dicks on in your sleep.”

     “Dammit, Nathan, let me go!” Red cries out loudly, choking laughs out between his words, “For the love of God, I’m not done using my dick yet! I’m only 26!”

     “5 seconds,” Jason says darkly, and Nathan finally let’s go, making a break for the car door. June reaches over and locks it a second before he can open it. Red puts on his seatbelt quickly, one of his feet still sticking out the window. He barks out a laugh when Jason reaches 0, glaring over at Nathan. He yanks on the car handle frantically, knocking his head against the window repeatedly. 

     “Everyone say goodbye to Nathan’s dick!” Maya says cheesily. 

     “Goodbye, Nathan’s dick!” Red and June harmonize, snickering when Jason unlocks the door. Nathan yanks the door open suddenly, stumbling back in surprise. He lunges inside the car, squishing June into the seat with a large grin.

     “Your damn lucky I like your dick so much,” Jason says flirtatiously, winking largely. Nathan pretends to puke; June and Maya groan at the imagery. Red gasps offendedly.

     “I thought you liked my dick!” He says, dramatic betrayal seeping into his tone. Jason reaches over and rests a hand on his thigh with a suggestive smile.

     “Of course I do, baby, but Nathan’s is just so nice too,” He simpers. Maya gags behind him, clasping her hands over Harley’s ears. The girl looks uncaringly out the window, not even questioning the conversation.

      “ Okayyyy ,” June says, dragging out the word with emphasis,” As much as I enjoy the idea of you two doing the diddly-do, I don’t want to picture or hear about it, capisce?” 

     “Diddly-do?” Nathan murmurs to himself with furrowed eyebrows. Jason sends one last wink in Red direction and turns on the car, pulling out of the parking lot. Red glances at him with a smirk and shakes his head, turning to look out the window.

     “My legs hurt,” He sighs.

     “That’s because you’re a dumbass,” June chimes in from Maya’s lap. Not even 5 seconds ago she was sitting beside her. Red doesn’t quite have enough energy to question it. 

     "Ouch,” He huffs.

     “Is your dad better?” Maya asks. Red nods jerkily, sighing deeply. He rests his head against the chair and glares up at the top of the car.

      “He won’t be turning, I reversed the bite. However, his body was ripped to shreds. I managed to speed up the healing process slightly, and I’ll be able to remove the scars once the wounds are fully healed.”

     “You know the McCall pack is gonna think we’re the bad guys now that Harley beat the shit outta them, right?” Nathan asks. Harley grins out the window, giggling quietly. Maya watches her fondly. 

     “Technically, we are bad guys,” June points out. Nathan chuckles but shakes his head.

     “Right but we’re not the bad guys,” He counters, “And from the way you described them until they find out you’re with us, they’ll be looking for trouble.”

     Red sighs deeply, nodding along. “I hate the fact that you’re right. Scott will inevitably be looking for our ‘hideout’,” He says with air quotations, “and I’m sure Derek will be sniffing us out. Literally.”

     “They’ll have no need,” Jason interrupts, glancing over at him with a sly smile, “I left your business card for them to find. I’m sure they’ll be calling once they manage to get that wolfsbane out of their eyes.”

     Red huffs.

     “You do realize that my business card makes me sound like some sort of evil, mysterious Supernatural hunter?”

    “I mean, minus the evil part, that’s exactly what you are,” Maya tells him. He closes his eyes and groans deep in his throat, “Just sayin’. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anyway. Now that we’re in town, I’ll give your old friend a call so he can debrief us on the situation. We might as well kill some motherfuckers while we’re around to do it.”

     “Peter, right?” 

     “How’d you know?” She purrs. Red huffs for what seems like the millionth time within the car ride.

     “Only Peter would be willing to call a murderous Supernatural hunting business and not worry of the consequences. It’s right up his alley anyway - he’s always had death somewhere in his plans. It’s no surprise he’d be the one to realize that they need help with the situation before anyone else would.”

     “That’s fair.”

     “Alright, so we’ve got many options as to how to do this. We’re in control here,” Jason adds, wrapping his fingers around Red’s wrist softly. He relaxes marginally, “They’ll either call us or find us on their own, either way, they’ll be showing up. I doubt they’ll find us quickly, what with Mica’s scent masking spells, and it’s doubtful they’ll call us until they have no other options. So, Maya, you’ll call Peter back and schedule an appointment. You and Mica will meet him so that at least one of them knows he’s here. I’m sure he won’t tell.”

     “He won’t,” Red reassures him.

     “Good. Make the meeting in a public place full of people. Wear casual clothing but make sure it hides your weapons safely. I don’t want you to use them unless he attacks. I doubt he will, but still. Flash him a bit of gun here and there to keep him in check.”

     A dangerous smile pulls at Maya lips for a moment, darkness sparking in her eyes before the expression ebbs away and is replaced by a dutiful nod. The pack doesn’t comment on it - they’ve seen the expression many times. 

     “Yes, sir.”

     “Good. June, can you take Harley to get some ice cream when they leave? Bring a gun and some wolfsbane in case someone sees you and recognizes her. If you think you’re being watched, drive around town and try to lose them. Don’t lead them back to the motel rooms,” Jason says. June ruffles Harley’s hair lightly, smiling down at her. Harley grins back up.

     “Can you braid my hair?” She questions. June giggles.

     “Absolutely, Queenie,” She agrees. They both cheer quietly.

     “Nathan, you’ll be with me. We’re going to be calling some contacts and trying to track down who we think might’ve attacked John. I don’t think Peter would’ve called us for help if it was just a pack, so we’ll wait for Maya and Mica do get back from debrief and then we’ll start hunting whatever else is terrorizing this fucking town.”

     “Absolutely, sir, I’m sure Vinnie will be able to give me some pointers on who’s entered the area within the last few weeks,” Nathan informs him. Jason flashes him a grateful smile.

     “Mica,” He starts. Red turns his attention to his Alpha, listening attentively, “I’m sure it’s going to be difficult to see Peter again, even if he hadn’t necessarily been a part of… everything. He’s going to be surprised to see you, he’ll be prying for information. From what you’ve told me about him, he’ll be sly about it, sneaky. Don’t give him anything - just the basics.”

     “You are my pack. I am apart of the Little Red Hunting Business. I am not Little Red. I go by Mica Covelo now. I am not a hunter. I am here for my dad, not for the McCall pack,” He recites. Jason nods his approval, stroking his thumb over Mica’s pulse point. He can hear his heartbeat easily - the feeling is more for Red’s sake than his own.

     “Good. Maya, try not to kill people.”

    “I’ll try, Jay,” She says slowly, a fang slitting out of her mouth menacingly, “But I can’t promise anything.”

     Jason sighs. “I know. Now let’s go get some coffee and get this shit moving. I’m sure we all want to get out and about as soon as possible.”

     “Aye aye, cap’n!” June and Nathan cheer simultaneously, erupting in giggles.

     “Fuck my life.”

Chapter Text

Mica Covelo

Mayana Covelo

Harleen Covelo

Jason Lance

Nathan King

Junie Lee

Chapter Text

     “Okay, let’s go over this one more time,” Red says lowly, tapping his fingers on his thigh in a pattern. Maya nods beside him, her eyes focused on the diner across the cafe they’re sitting in. Peter had agreed to meet up over the phone, making a passing comment about some new information considering another pack in town, and had slyly mentioned a diner whose owner had a spectacularly adorable golden retriever as a pet.

     Maya had hung up first, making a show of rolling her eyes to Red saying something akin to ‘So that’s what you meant by conniving bastard ’ , then asked what diner he had spoken of. In the diner across the street, a little girl crouches down to pet a golden retriever puppy behind the back counter.

     “We answer minimal questions, we don’t say anything about Little Red unless responding to him, in which we tell him we have never actually met Red. We are the pack that had stopped by my dad’s room, and we were there to make sure that he didn’t turn into a werewolf. I can tell him that I use my Spark, I can tell him that I go by Mica Covelo now. I will reveal no other information about the pack aside from Jason being the Alpha, you being the Left hand, and me being the Right Hand. We will not tell him how many of us there are, and we will say absolutely nothing about Harley,” Red mutters to himself. Maya nods along.

     “Anything else?” She murmurs.

     “Oh, right! Uh, aside from getting all the information about the Supernatural situation, we also need to ask about the pack dynamics. We can’t assume anything, and if we accidentally disrespect someone in a high position of power, Scott could easily declare war on us. Assuming he even knows anything about pack dynamics,” He adds. Maya agrees silently.

      They sit in silence for another 10 minutes, both on the lookout for Peter. Maya occasionally sniffs the air, tilting her head slightly and glancing around her. Red shrinks into his chair, spreading his legs out under the table and placing them on her lap. He stares at the other diner unblinkingly, his dark eyes trained on the doors. He taps his thighs quickly, as though he’s performing a piano piece that only his mind knows.

      “I smell another wolf nearby,” Maya whispers suddenly, straightening her back and lifting her head to scent the air. Her eyes narrow suspiciously, and she quickly whips her head around to glare at two men walking toward the diner.

     At first glance, Red can identify easily which one is Peter. His head is held tall and his shoulders are squared, his spine straight and his walk all too… Peter. He’s wearing yet another solid grey v-neck, a pair of very tight skinny jeans, and a brown leather jacket. An overwhelming amount of nostalgia overcomes him, and he can’t help but smile.

      Before he had left, back far before things had gotten bad, Red had found an odd sense of companionship with Peter. He was one of the few pack members who saw him for something more than just a weak human - he saw his worth, his usefulness. It’d be foolish of him to believe that Peter had seen him as anything other than an asset, but despite that, he had always appreciated it.

     To see that Peter hadn’t seemed to change in the last 8 years was nearly comforting for him - it was one of the few semi-good things to come from this town.

     However, the sight of the other man made his heart actually leap with joy.

     Danny.

     Red stood abruptly, nodding to Maya.

     “He wasn’t supposed to bring anyone else,” She hisses angrily, sliding out of her chair and slipping her bag over her shoulder. Any and all information concerning the pack and the Little Red Hunting Business was packed into the bag in manilla folders and a copious amount of paper.

     “No, he wasn’t,” He agrees dismissively, “However, he brought along Danny. So it’s okay.”

     “I thought Danny didn’t know anything?”

     “Not when I was here, he didn’t. But I’m not surprised that he found out - he was a damn good hacker, and he was a bit too smart for his own good. I’d be disappointed if he didn’t figure it all out.”

     Red leads her out of the diner, adjusting his leather jacket as he goes. He tugs on her hand lightly, pointing to her hair when she glances over. She rolls her eyes lightly but pulls it up nonetheless, sifting through the mess of curls and wrapping it into a messy bun. She flips him the bird when he huffs at her.

     “Alright,” He breathes as they cross the street, “It’s just Danny and Peter. Danny likes me. Peter is an ass to everyone he meets so at least it’s not personal this time. It’s fine. Alright.”

     He wrenches open the door and nods to her, subtly flicking his eyes over to the golden retriever sitting beside the counter. A young woman stands behind the cash box, boredly staring over at them. Maya steps forward, her business persona slipping on naturally.

      “Hi there. Could we get a large Dr. Pepper with an order of two burgers with tomato and grilled onions? No avocados. And uh, Mica?” She recites. Red waves at her uncaringly. “And a strawberry milkshake with almond milk instead of normal. Thanks.” 

      She snaps her fingers to get Red’s attention, but he ignores her, instead focusing his attention on the dog when it leaps up from its spot and bounds over to him, leaping up and placing its paws on his stomach. In the corner of his eye, he can see Peter and Danny staring at him in shock. 

     “Woah-” He exclaims in surprise when it snarls, baring its teeth at him. The girl behind the counter gasps, struggling to hop over the counter. Maya laughs loudly, pointing at him for the extra effect. It snaps its teeth at him and makes a move to bite his arm.

     “Down,” He snaps, his eyes lighting up with gold for a split second. Immediately, the dog drops to his feet and bows its head. It whimpers slightly, and the girl stops mid-step to stare at him in wonder. Maya rolls her eyes at the display, letting out a sigh of mild annoyance at the fact that the cashier clearing forgot their order. 

     “Sorry about that,” He apologizes smoothly, stepping over the dog’s form hunched to smile charmingly at the girl, “Would you mind adding an iced peach green tea to go, as well?” She nods at him shyly, very obviously checking him out. He ignores it and winks at Maya.

       “So, what, you’ll buy Jason a drink but not your own kid? Damn, Mica, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re swooning,” She teases. He pays with cash (as a rule in the pack is to never leave paper trails), then flips her the finger.

      “Says the one who’s fucking June,” He huffs. Maya gasps, pointing at him. 

      “How’d you know?!” She demands. He shoots her a pair of sarcastic finger guns and winks.

      “I didn’t.” 

     “You midget shit!” She laughs, shoving his shoulder, “You tell anyone and you’re dead!”

      “How dramatic for simple sex,” He hums, “Perhaps it isn’t so simple? I’ve never seen friends-with-benefits so emotionally attached.”

     “Oh, hush, you said the same thing about David.”

     “Whom you dated secretly for 8 months before coming clean when he dumped you.”

     “First of all, I dumped him. Second of all, that’s unfair! We didn’t technically date.”

     “Of course not, you just moved all your shit over to his place, met his parents, went on dates, got disgustingly cute, walked each other to classes-”

      “That’s not dating! That’s friendship. You did the same thing with Cherry!”

      “Yes, of course. How could I forget Cherry, the mere fling I had in college where we later got hitched and created a child. Oh, I’m so forgetful sometimes-”

     “I hate you,” She giggles. He laughs with her, chuckling quietly before they both go silent, letting silence settle over them.

     “You ready for this? I mean, they probably won’t react quietly to your presence,” She tells him. He huffs a bitter laugh, rolling his eyes at her.

     “They’ve been pretty quiet so far, and they’ve been watching me since I walked through the door. I doubt they’ll be acting like that bitch,” He mutters. She shoots him a look, “That dog. Whatever. Can’t believe it attacked me anyway. Fuck is it with dogs hating my ass?”

     “Well, at least they don’t react like they do with Nathan. I figure they don’t like you because you lack a scent. Or maybe because you generally give of villain vibes,” She says, wiggling a finger in his direction. 

     “I don’t give off villain vibes,” He defends, “It’s more of... Anti-hero vibes.”

     “Mica, you still haven’t washed that blood off your neck.”

     “Fuck, really?” He gasps, scrubbing harshly at the skin behind his ear. He completely forgot about it, what with the flight, the driving, the planning, the whole… hospital ordeal, and then even more planning. He wasn’t all that surprised he had forgotten to properly wipe it off.

     “Anti-heroes can have blood on their necks,” He huffs.

     “Do anti-heroes also carry revolvers in their pockets?”

     “I have a holster,” He declares, “Deadpool would totally carry a revolver if he wasn’t as sick with the swords.”

     “How about the knives you snuck into your bag when Nathan wasn’t looking?”

     “Safety first.”

     “The supplies for spells?”

     “Insurance.”

     “How about the actual literal kill list notebook you have in your backpack?”

     “It’s good to have life goals.”

     “And the paperwork you stole from Taylor Judith’s office after you finished her off?”

     “Tax benefits.”

     “Alright, whatever, whatever, you win!” She guffaws, smacking him upside the head. He protests the act profusely, pulling the back of her bun out to make it fall into a ponytail. She bares her teeth back at him jokingly. 

     “Okay,” He drawls out finally, nodding to himself. “Alright, let’s get this shit over with. Get the info, eat my food, get out.” He straightens his back out and squares his shoulders. A sense of determination clouds his dark eyes, and Maya allows him to take the lead. He marches over to the table at which Danny and Peter are sat, looking up at him in ill-disguised surprise.

     “Stiles,” Danny breathes, and without a second thought, he leaps from the chair and throws himself into Red’s arms. The latter let out a slight gasp in surprise, immediately wrapping his around the man’s shoulders. He lets out a quiet laugh despite himself, lowering down to rest his forehead on his old friend's shoulder. He breathes in deeply, the familiar scent filling his lungs and calming him.

     “Stiles,” He repeats, “Holy Hell, man, you’re actually here! God, I missed you, buddy.” He laughs into his chest. Red smiles sadly into the crook of his neck, burying himself further into the man’s arms. He didn’t expect Danny to miss him this much - after all, they hadn’t been all that close. Aside from Jackson’s mutual ‘friendship’, a few awkward gay questions, and a very uncomfortable hug before he had disappeared from Beacon Hills, they didn’t converse much.

     However, despite all of this, Danny grips him tight and whispers mantras of ‘I missed you’ and ‘where have you been’ and ‘when did you get so ripped?’ Maya smiles at them from behind him, purposefully avoiding Peter’s questioning gaze.

      “I’ll answer it all once we’re done with the important stuff,” Red whispers to him, pats him on the back twice, then let’s go of him. Danny reluctantly steps away, looking him up and down with a slight smile.

      “You’re taller than me now,” He points out. Red nods proudly.

      “Grew a few inches right after I left. I have abs now, too,” He winks. Danny snickers and Maya steps forward. She clears her throat, and all attention turns to her.

      “I know that this is a reunion of sorts, and you can absolutely catch up later, but I’m rather interested in learning about what horror is terrorizing your town this time,” She says strictly, pulling a chair out from across Peter and sitting down. She shrugs her bag off and begins to pull out files. 

      Danny glances over at Red in time to watch him steel himself, a mask covering his eyes and schooling his features. He exhales deeply, nodding to Danny, then takes a seat beside her. Danny returns to the spot next to Peter.

      “What a surprise to see you here, Stiles,” Peter purrs. Red smirks at him lightly.

     “Oh, yes, I’m sure you were very surprised when you saw me at the cafe across the street,” He hums. Peter smiles slyly.

      “I wasn’t sure if it was you,” He relents honestly, “You have grown quite a lot, after all.”

      “My style has changed, yes,” Red agrees, “And I have to ask, Peter, why hasn’t yours? Plain grey v-neck, leather jacket, skinny jeans, and combat boots? Almost a decade passed, and yet you still dress like you're 18 going on 21.”

      Peter lets a small sliver of offense show in his expression, and he tugs on his jacket sleeve absentmindedly. Red smiles at him calmly from his seat, his piercing gaze watching every movement.

     “That’s not very nice,” He chastises, “Not everyone can flip their entire personality in a mere 7 years.”

     “Not at all, some of us just have to die to do it,” Red says lowly, his smile turning sharp. Danny shifts uncomfortably in his seat at the danger behind it, and Maya doesn’t bother to glance up from her files, “And it’s been 8 years, Peter, don’t think that pretending you don’t know that will change the fact that you’ve obviously kept track.”

      “I was only a year off, not bad,” Peter shrugs, ignoring the last part of the sentence, then hums, “And you didn’t exactly die, did you?”

      “Didn’t I?” 

      The response hangs in the air for a moment, the atmosphere becoming thick with tension. Peter watches him in a hawklike gaze, and Red just stares back at him, his smile slipping off his face. He replaces the expression with a stony one.

     “Maya,” He demands finally, “Introduce yourself.”

      Maya nods, waving a lazy hand at the pair.

     “Hi there. I’m Maya, and I kill evil shit for a living. Such as whatever attacked Mr. Stilinski,” She smiles disconcertingly. Peter raises an eyebrow at her. Danny furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

     “But, a feral Beta werewolf had attacked Mr. Stilinski?” He question. Maya’s smile turns dark, her lips twisting wickedly.

     “Exactly. Speaking of, Mr. Hale, have you found the Beta? Or is it just running free in the McCall pack territory after it targeted a man under the pack’s protection?” She asks. Peter smiles back at her with one tooth too many, his canines extending slightly.

     “It is under control,” He says vaguely. 

     “Meaning that Scott told you all to let it be while he tries to convince it to join the pack,” Red snaps suddenly, rolling his eyes angrily, “Which, by extension, means that we can kill it.”

      “What?” Danny frowns, “But… I thought that if it’s in McCall pack territory you can’t kill it?” 

      “That would be true if we were hunting out of lust for the kill. However, by the law of the Magi Accords, to attack a member of another pack or, by addition, a family member of another pack, we have every right to do as we please with it. In this case, that would mean that we have to declare this act to the Alpha of the territory, then proceed with the deeds. If he tries to stop us, we have a right to kill one of their own Betas.” He recites quickly, his eyes flicking to Maya’s twinkling ones. 

     An odd sense of mirth and amusement blooms in her irises, and she smirks over at Peter when he scowls slightly. When he sees them looking, he quickly disguises it. Red knows better.

     “So… you’re going to kill the Beta?” Danny asks. Maya chuckles dryly. Red laughs without any real humor, leaning over the table and plucking a fry from Peter’s plate.

     “No, no, of course not. That’d be a little bit too merciful, wouldn’t it? After all, that little bitch hurt my dad,” He sneers, “No, I’m going to skin it alive and mount it’s head on the living room wall back home.”

      “It would add a spark of life to the room, wouldn't it?” Maya agrees wryly, “And it’d totally match the drapes.”

     "Hopefully, it's fur is brown. Then, it'd go with the sofa as well."

     Danny stares at him in barely concealed surprise, and Peter smirks into his glass.

     “Well, it seems that your appearance was not the only thing that changed, but your personality, too,” He hums.

     “And it seems as though yours is as annoying as ever. How is it that you haven’t been murdered yet? I’m feeling an itch at the moment.”

     “My body is quite appealing.”

     “As is the gun in my pocket. As much as I love to talk about pumping 4 Wolfsbane bullets into your dick, I’d rather hear about whatever has been murdering the locals,” Red points out. Peter winks over at him, and Red can’t help but smile back at him. It was nice to see that Peter truly hadn’t changed.

    “Right,” Peter sighs in disappointment, “Before we begin, it seems as though your friend brought some information I’d quite like to know.” 

     Maya shoves the files in front of him forcefully, pointing at each file.

     “The red one contains information on the business, including our policies, the laws we follow, the laws protecting your safety, the laws protecting our own insurance, and the laws explaining how much involvement you may have in your case,” She intones.

     “The blue one contains all the information concerning the Order of the Magi, the Magi Accords, and the laws they enforce, such as the laws we follow. The purple one is everything you need to fill out in order for this to be official, but you don’t need to sign anything until you’ve read the others, and given us any and all collected information on the creature.”

     “You will pay with a check, we don’t accept cash, and we don’t accept cards. You will sign your name at each of the required places and fill out all of your pack’s information. This includes personal information, as well as pack dynamics. If you wish to withdraw the deal at any point through the process, you may say so. Once you sign the last of the papers, the transaction is complete, and you cannot withdraw.” 

      “If you try to sabotage our mission or hurt one of our pack members while we are within the confines of our deal, we have every right to kill your entire pack and take your land, as seen in the Magi Accords. If you have an issue with this, I suggest you withdraw now. I know your pack has had problems with control in the past,” She finishes, flashing him a smirk at the end. 

      Danny immediately snatches the blue folder from the table and flicks it open, reading it. Peter starts with the red file, glancing up at Red before he reads it through. They sit in mildly uncomfortable silence as they read, and Maya frowns at him when he begins to fidget nervously. He drums his fingers on his thigh and taps his feet in a complicated rhythm, his boots thumping on the hardwood floors quietly.

     Maya catches his hand in her with a knowingly sad smile, pressing his fingers into her own pulse point. He breathes along to the rhythm of her heartbeat, and the tension relieves from his shoulders.

     Danny sets the file back on the table in front of Peter, nodding to them. Peter finishes reading the red file a second later, dropping it uncaringly. Maya’s fingers twitch in irritation. 

     “I have questions,” Peter declares. Red sighs deeply, despite expecting such, and waves his hand for him to start.

     “It says on the second page that your pack will dispose of the threat in whatever manner the client wishes unless it goes against the Code seen on page 4. I read that, obviously, and it said that you aren’t willing to torture the creature for information. You seemed entirely willing to torture the Beta that hurt your dad, so why not?” He asks them. Maya points to Red, who rolled his eyes at her.

     “We are, in a sense, a type of Supernatural Mercenaries. Assassins, almost. However, torture, as seen by the Order of the Magi, is not considered ‘disposing’ of a threat, and moreso unreasonably abusing our power over it. Therefore, in an act of official business, we cannot do such without facing legal action from the Order of the Magi,” He explains. 

     “Yet you will illegally torture the Beta?”

     “You are a client, Peter. For legal reasons, I have to say no. That was a joke.”

     Peter nods at him in amusement, huffing a laugh, before glancing down to the file once more.

     “Another question: Will my pack be formally introduced to your own, or will the business be done in the shadows?”

     “If you wish for us to introduce ourselves as a whole to your pack, we are willing to do so. If you’d prefer for them to be in the dark about our business, we are also willing to keep our heads down,” He shrugs. Peter glances at Maya in keen interest.

     “I’d be most interested to meet the sweet little girl of your pack who I, sadly, missed the chance to speak to. Scott spoke of her quite fondly,” He teases. Maya huffs at him, while Red just smiles to himself proudly at the thought that he had managed to convince her to do so. All it took was a quiet ‘Harley, go say hi to your dad’s old friends’ and she was racing off to cause mischief. 

      Like father, like daughter. 

     “That can be arranged,” Red agrees, “Just call Maya with the information and we’ll meet you there. But, I have to warn you, Peter, that if Scott or Derek threatens my pack in any way, I will not hesitate to rip their throats out and paint the walls with their blood.”

      Danny watches him cautiously, yet a sliver of respect shines in his eyes. Red understands why - it had taken him almost a full decade for him to finally stand up to them and place his dominance, and Danny saw that. Saw the confidence he had now. Saw the life he had built himself. 

     “That’s fair,” Peter accepts dismissively, a cunning glint in his eyes, “I’ll arrange a time. I put together all of the information we’ve gathered from the creature and put it in a binder,” He sets in in front of Red, “Please read through it while I ask the chef where your food is. I’m sure you’re starving.”

      “Not at all,” He mutters uncaringly, opening the binder. Maya gets up from her seat and stands behind him, leaning over his shoulder to look. The first page had a large picture printed onto it in all black and white, the pixels blotchy. It was obviously taken from a traffic cam, as the creature was running along a deserted road. 

      The creature is hunched over onto all fours, it’s back spindly and bumpy. Its hind legs are absurdly human-like, while it’s front legs are stretched out far too long and the elbows look as though they’re bent backward. Red squints his eyes, examining the hands. It has three sharp, long fingers that seem to be denting the concrete under such force.

     However, the most noticeable attribute is its face. 

     It’s human. Completely, utterly, and entirely human. Its hair is trimmed into a stylish boy cut, it faces looks perfect in almost every aspect, its eyes are completely normal, and it’s mouth doesn't look as though it's full of shark teeth. If not for the body, Red would’ve assumed that this was a normal man running along a street at night.

     “Not a werewolf, not a gnome, not a goblin, obviously not a troll,” He lists off rapidly, closing his eyes and imagining his Beastiary. He forgot to bring it to the meeting, sadly, but he’d spent so many hours sketching details images and jotting down notes into it that he could recite it word for word, “Not a harpy, not a nymph, not a spirit, not a golem - unless it was horribly disfigured before creation, but I doubt it, not a gremlin, not an ogre or an orc…”

     Danny watches him with rapt interest. Maya ignores his jabbering and inspects the image closer, her dark eyes flashing gold for a split second.

     “...not an imp, perhaps a faery? No, faeries pride themselves in their image, if it were disfigured it would have been murdered at birth,” He thinks aloud, “Vampire? No, no, the face is too humanoid. Dammit, hold on, let me…”

     He goes silent, opening his eyes and ripping the paper from the binder. He inspects it closely, angling it back and forth, squirting his eyes. Maya watches him silently, while Danny just waits patiently. His eyes are darting between the two of them, watching as they begin to communicate silently. Their eyes say more than enough.

     “Fuck,” Red snarls suddenly, folding the picture up and shoving it into his pocket, “Maya, get Jay on the phone, he needs to call Salem.”

     “What, why? Salem’s a useless dud of a witch,” She huffs. 

     “Now, Maya.”

     Maya shoots him a disapproving look but pulls her phone out nonetheless, clicking to emergy contact and dropping it into his hand. He lifts it to his ear and smiles when he hears it pick up immediately.

     “Are you okay?” Jason hurries out, and the smile immediately drops from his face. 

     “Just peachy,” He teases lightly, though the dark look in his eyes as he reads over the paper listing the victims clasped to the binder expresses a different tone, “Jay, would you mind sending me Salem’s number? Peter’s case has shown certain… complications and I think she’d be of help.”

     “Salem can’t even magic herself a basil plant, and you think she can help with a case?”

     “Do you remember Salem’s husband?”

     “Joaquin? Of course, why?”

     “Joaquin went missing two years ago in the woods behind their house. Salem told the authorities he went camping and drowned in the river, but do you remember what she told us?”

     “There was something living in the woods. Kept watching their house in the darkness, and her wards went insane every time Joaquin left the house for a month straight.”

     “That’s right. Four months later, Salem called me on my way home from a case in Georgia. I was halfway across the state line when she called. She told me that new information had come to light and that she was moving out of Wisconsin within the next two days. Do you know why?”

     “What? Why? You never told me that she-”

     “She had seen Joaquin standing out her bedroom window from the bathroom, Jason. She saw him standing there with blood all over his mouth, and she swore to me that it looked like his neck was snapped. She told me that he had some sort of meat hanging out of his hand, that it looked like a human arm, his nails were unnaturally sharp and long, his posture was all wrong, and that he looked like he’d been starving for his whole life. Called him ‘grey and lifeless, like he’d dug himself out of a grave and killed himself again in the process’.”

     Jason stays silent on the other end, thinking. Maya closes her eyes and leans back in her chair, a realization passing over her features. Danny can’t help but shift in his seat, an uneasy feeling washing over him.

     “What… Mica. What the fuck- what? What is it?” Jason grits out, finally. Red flicks his eyes up to meet Danny’s, his dark eyes looking empty and endless. 

     “We have a wendigo on our hands.”

Chapter Text

     They sat in silence until Peter came back with their food. Red wasn’t surprised to see him sporting a smug smirk, no doubt the result of some perfect manipulation for the chef to hurry with their orders. Maya just eyed him irritably before shoving half the burger in her mouth. Danny laughed lightheartedly, easing the tension just slightly.

     After Red had dropped that bombshell on Jason, the Alpha had hung up within a few seconds with nothing but a ‘fuck, I’ll call Salem.’ And with that final note, Danny sat in silence, not asking a single question. He waited for Peter.

      Now, Peter was back. And Danny had questions.

      “Peter, Stiles-”

      “Oh, right, about that,” Red interrupts awkwardly. Danny pauses, “I go by Mica now.” Danny goes silent for a moment before nodding in acceptance.

      “Alright. Anyway, Peter, Mica called their Alpha and figured out what the threat is,” He explained. Peter raised a quick eyebrow at Red, glancing over at Maya with a suspicious frown, before sighing.

      “Let me guess; it’s bad,” He drawls.

      “What are you, new here? It’s Beacon Hills, Petey, of course, it’s bad,” Red teases lightly. Peter huffs at the name but otherwise seems to accept it, taking a sip from his water.

      “It’s a Wendigo.”

     “Yes. So, actually, I have questions about that. What exactly is a wendigo? Because from my time in the pack, I’ve realized that most legends about creatures are only partially true, so whatever info I have is probably wrong,” Danny stumbles out, looking at the binder crossly. Maya giggles at him softly, shaking her head.

     “Mica, you weren’t kidding when you said he was a smart one,” She smiles. Red knocks their shoulders together.

      “Please,” He scoffs quietly, “Don’t downplay it. I said that he’s the smartest one.” 

     Danny fails to hide his pleased smile at his words, taking a large gulp of soda to mask it. Peter shakes his head offendedly.

     “Anyway,” Red drawls, “A wendigo is… well, how about we start with the most important part? Wendigos are, quite honestly, almost impossible to capture, and even harder to kill. They’re…” He trails off, a distant clouding his eyes for a moment. Maya reaches over and brushes his hair out of his eyes sadly. Danny and Peter frown at them.

     After a moment of silence, Red closes his eyes, breathes out deeply, and nods.

     “Sorry,” He says curtly, “I just… I’ve only gone after a Wendigo twice before. The first time was right into college when I was 19, and, truthfully, I was hospitalized for weeks afterward. The second time, we lost a lot of packs to it. I’m not a fan of them, simply put, and I want to tell you now that if you want, we can take care of it by our own accord.”

      Peter watches him silently, interest flooding over his features. Danny just furrows his eyebrows, “Why’s that?”

      “As I said, we’ve lost family to them before, and as much as I dislike the McCall pack,” Red pauses, shaking his head, “I still have people there that I care about. You guys, Lydia, Erica, my dad, Melissa. And I know that if we all go after it together, I- we’ll lose a lot of people.”

      “But you’d risk your own pack instead of our own?” 

      “It’s not that. It’s just that we’ve dealt with them before. We’re certainly not experts, but we know a Hell of a lot more about them. You literally know nothing. We have a much larger chance of succeeding without casualties than you do, even if we help you.”

     Danny nods in acknowledgment but otherwise stays silent. Maya stares at the table with an empty look in her eyes. Red twitches his fingers against the binder in front of him, his lips pulling down.

     “We’ll come back to that later. For now, how about you explain what Wendigos are?” Peter asks. Maya shakes herself from her trance and scowls.

     “Wendigos are creatures of the night,” Red begins, and Maya slumps in her chair, “Legends of wendigos began to circulate Algonquian tribes. The name itself means ‘the evil spirit that devours mankind’. It was later translated to just mean ‘cannibal’. Most commonly, Wendigos are interpreted as a spirit that possesses a man after they resort to cannibalism. They’re told to roam the forests in Nova Scotia, the East Coast of Canada, and mostly just Wisconsin and Minnesota. However, the first time I met one, it was in Massachusetts, and the other was in West Virginia. So, don’t rely on geography too much.”

      He pauses to take a sip of his milkshake before continuing.

     “They roam the woods to either possess other men into becoming Wendigos or to eat them. They have an intense craving for human flesh, as the cannibalistic qualities carry over to the spiritual form. They’re said to have extreme speed and strength, and nearly perfect hunting skills. In some cases, they’ve also been reported to be able to control the weather. They can also mimic human voices. ” 

     Maya’s expression falls at the end. Danny grimaces at the description, while Peter just runs a hand over his face and sighs deeply. 

     “On average, they’ve been described as about 15-17 feet tall, with glowing eyes, long fangs, and long tongues. They’ve been called ‘ashen and pale’, although in some cases they were described as ‘coal’. It seems that in our case, it’s the first type,” Red rattles off, his fingers tapping quickly across the binder like he’s typing out a sentence. Maya’s face is a sickly color now, and she’s taken to staring coldly at the table. 

      “Now, that’s all the myths and very slight fact. Before we move on to the information that I truly have as fact, do you have any questions?” Red asks. Peter nods, leaning forward with an oddly serious expression.

      “Why do you know so much about this? It sounds like you’re reading it straight out of a book,” He questions lowly. Maya twitches but says nothing. 

      Red smiles sadly over at him, “As I said, Peter… we lost family to one of these things. Maya lost a sister, Harley lost her mother, I lost my best friend. Jason lost his mother, and June lost her boyfriend. They didn’t even make it out of the woods. After that case, I made it my goal to learn everything I could about it so I could finally kill it. We hadn’t managed to slay it the first time.”

      “Did you kill it?”

     Red’s eyes darken at the question, and a cruel smirk twists his lips.

     “I ripped it to shreds.”

     Peter doesn’t reply. He just nods and falls back to his chair.

     “Moving on-” Red continues, “The facts. Facts are: it’s fast and strong. Faster and stronger than anything else you’ve ever encountered. Werewolves and werecats don’t stand a chance, vampires look like schoolchildren by comparison, and hellhounds don’t even compare. They can, in fact, mimic human voices - in fact, they can mimic the voices of those hunting it. That’s how it lured Jason’s mom to it; it pretended to be Jason.

      “Depending on what stage of the possession it’s in, it’ll look different. In the beginning, it most often looks like the person it’s possessing, though desperately ill. Pale, bloody, dirty, yellowing teeth, thin body, stretched skin. Within the next stage, it begins to grow in size, and the body looks violently malnourished. Its teeth grow, the body becomes mangled, its eyes glow, it grows in speed and strength. At the end of the possession, the Wendigo is fully formed. It’s described as before: thin, tall, fast, strong… the perfect predator.

     “Wendigos are the most skilled creatures known to man when it comes to hunting. They have intelligence far beyond normal human smarts, they’re fast, strong, and they plan ahead. If you think you’re about to catch it, chances are that it’s got you set in a trap. This makes them impossible to capture unless you manage to set up its own burrow into a trap. Most often, this is also impossible. Their burrows are well guarded, as that’s where they store their food.”

      Danny grows mildly pale at the descriptions but doesn’t say a word to interrupt. He takes to writing notes down in a small blue notebook, glancing up once in a while to look at the binder once again. 

     “I only vaguely read over the victims, but I can already tell what it’s doing. The easiest way to get to know the Wendigo and recognize it’s patterned is it’s victimology - in this case, it’s scavenging. I mean, look-” Red points to the list of names.

     “Hailey Ryan, 21, female, a college student majoring in computer science. worked at the grocery store two blocks down. Went missing 3 weeks ago, was found 4 days after being reported. Found at the park by the elementary school, most of her meat gone, and only her bones and face intact,” He lists. Maya straightens up slightly.

      “Oh, absolutely,” She speaks up for the first time, “It’s definitely scavenging. Normally, they keep the body and use the bones to build its burrow. They tend to keep the heads as trophies, horribly enough. In this case, it’s probably starving if it only took the meat and left the rest. It’s in a hurry.”

     Danny and Peter watch as they begin to converse, seemingly forgetting they’re there altogether.

      “It’s unusual behavior, but it still makes sense. Winter is going to be here in a few months, and it gets cold by September here anyway. It’s starving already, but it also has to harvest. Which means it’s probably getting desperate.”

      “I mean yeah,” Maya agrees, “Look at the other dates of the victims. Jerry Smith, Nancy and Olive Dunes, George Tate. Reported missing, found dead about 3 days later. Nancy and Olive found separately, but on the same day. George found 2 days after. Jerry found 4 days after that. It’s all so close in dates, it’s quite concerning.”

      Red nods along, reading over the papers, “It’s desperate. They’re smart creatures, albeit evil, so why is it leaving the bodies in such obvious areas? They’re being found within hours of being dropped, most often near frequently walked areas by the woods surrounding Beacon Hills.”

     “Perhaps it’s too desperate to think?” 

      “No, no, that doesn’t add up. Wendigos are damn smart. They’re perfect hunters, and for it to be leaving the bodies is abnormal enough. To be dumping them in public areas near its burrow? Something’s wrong here-” Red stops speaking suddenly, staring out the window in silence. Maya swivels in her chair, and Danny and Peter lean over to see.

      “What? What’s up, I don’t sense anything?” Maya questions. Red blinks twice. He shakes his head dismissively.

     “Sorry, I just....” He sinks into his seat deeper, knitting his eyebrows together, “I thought of something, but it’s extremely unlikely.”

      “Mica, you said it yourself. This is Beacon Hills. If it’s unlikely, it’s probably the case,” Danny laughs with a hint of bitterness in his tone. Red hesitates for only a split second before nodding.

      “As I said before, there are stages in which the man goes through when turning into a fully-fledged Wendigo. Once fully gone, it can’t be turned back. The only way to kill it is to dig it’s frozen heart out of its chest and burn it in a fire directly under the moonlight. However, there have been a few circumstances in which men in the first or even second stages have recognized significant others.”

       “That’s great!” Danny exclaims happily, “If we identify it, we can find it’s loved ones and-”

     “Danny,” Red interrupts softly, “No.” The man doesn't reply, watching him questionably. 

     “In all of these cases, the Wendigo recognized their loved one and… well, to put it lightly, they took them back to their burrows and ate them alive. Normally, they kill them first. But, in these cases, they didn’t.”

     “Jesus,” Danny and Maya breathe out at the same time, grimacing largely. Peter’s expression is sour, but his eyes still hold interest.

      “Then what was it you were thinking, exactly?” He asks softly. Red blinks quickly, his mouth working to speak but no words escaping. Finally, he inhales deeply and snaps his teeth together.

      “I think that there may be a chance the Wendigo is asking for help,” He explains. They all gape at him in disbelief, “I know it seems crazy, but hold on. Look at the picture,” He orders. He pulls the paper out of his pocket and straightens it out.

      “Remember how I described the stages? Its body is slightly misformed, but it still has a face. A real, man face. Which means that it’s not even to the second stage yet. What if it’s trying to get the attention of your pack, as it did by dumping the bodies so that you’ll kill it? It’s asking to be stopped.” 

     “Or maybe it’s asking to be saved?” Danny implores. Red shakes his head.

      “There’s no chance. Wendigos are created from men who resort to cannibalism. If it’s asking for help, it’s a fool and a devil. No man would be able to murder and eat innocent people living in his own town and still be able to live with himself,” Red clarifies, “It’s begging for death. It’s not in control of its actions, which I’m not surprised by. Once possessed even slightly, a Wendigo has to keep eating. Its hunger is the only thing it truly thinks about. But, even so, I do believe it’s still human enough to drop hints.

      “Yet,” He suspires loudly, “It won’t be able to do this for long. The stages move quickly, and if we don’t start tracking it now, the spirit will fully take over, and we’ll lose the only advantage we have. So, let’s wrap this up so I can debrief my pack, you can set up a meeting with us over the phone, we can explain everything to your pack if you want us to, and we can send this bastard straight to Hell.” 

     “Okay,” Danny concurs, “So, I only have a few questions. Only about you and your pack, though.”

     “Right, sure, one second. Peter, sign the papers in the purple folder now, we can’t do anything legally without signatures. Fill out all the information quickly, please, I’d like to see my Alpha soon,” Red instructs. Peter flips open the folder immediately. Maya gets up to clean off the table, leaving to ask the cashier for a to-go bag. Red didn’t even take a bite of his burger.

     “Lay it on me,” He grits out. Danny smiles apologetically but begins nonetheless.

     “Where’d you go to college?”

     Red laughs quietly at that, shaking his head. Of course, Danny would start with the impersonal stuff. He never was one to pry.

     “Harvard.”

     “No way!” Danny cheers, “That’s amazing! Congrats, Sti- erm, Mica. Always knew you were a smartass.” He winks for extra effect. Red laughs, “Okay, so… have you got anyone in your life? Boyfriend, girlfriend? I’d ask if you and Maya were together, but you seem more like siblings.” 

     Red assents to that, grinning, “Actually, she technically is my sister. I married her sister.”

     Peter pauses in his writing, looking up at him in surprise. Danny gawks openly, his eyes shining.

      “That’s insane! Holy shit, buddy, that’s- wow!” He stutters, “How was the wedding? Where was it? Shit, does your dad know you got hitched?”

     “It was… it wasn’t really a wedding, honestly. We were on a case in Vegas with some trolls. We call it the Troll Incident. She almost died; we’d been together for like two years, but… I loved her, you know? She got super hurt on the case, and I just knew I couldn’t live with myself if one of us didn’t make it and we never got married. So, after we left the hospital, we went to a casino and got married,” Red smiles softly at the memory, a faraway look in his eyes. Danny snickers.

     “That’s the best marriage story I’ve ever heard, Mica, I won’t lie to you,” He jokes. Red laughs along with him. 

     “My dad doesn’t know, though,” Red admits, “I didn’t keep in touch at all. I knew he was still close to the pack, and I didn’t want to test my luck. So, I’ll be sure to tell him about that when he wakes up.”

     “What’s her name?”

     “Cheraline. Crazy right? Maya’s full name is Mayana Covelo. Mayana and Cheraline. Anyway, I called her Cherry, cause it was shorter, and she told me in our first class together in college that she loved cherry colas. After that, it was just Cherry,” Red beams fondly.

       “Sounds like a pretty cool girl. Will I get to meet her?” Danny questions. Red’s smile fades abruptly, and he sighs quietly. 

      “I’m afraid not, though I’m sure she would’ve loved you. She, uh…” Red blinks away a stray tear, “She was one of the casualties of that Wendigo case in West Virginia.”

      “Oh,” Danny startles, and Red can see Peter send him a sympathetic look from the corner of his eye, “I’m so sorry, Mica, I didn’t mean to pry-”

     “No!” He jumps, “No, Danny, it’s alright! You didn’t know any better, I get it. No hard feelings.” Danny visibly relaxes.

     “Still. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been.”

     Red sags his shoulders slightly, “You’re right. You can’t. It was like… I hate to bring it up, but do you remember when you lost Ethan?” Danny frowns but nods along, “It hurt, Danny, I know it did. But… but imagine it like you were truly in love, right? It was like, for years and years, I was just… missing something. Like every day, I woke up to a cold bed and the house felt so much smaller, and the whole world was darker. It was like I was suffocating. For years and years, I just choked on my breath until I just stopped breathing.”

     Danny and Peter watch him sadly, and Maya returns to the table. Her expression is blank, but her wet eyes tell a different story. She was obviously listening in.

      “Even now, she’s everywhere. Sometimes, I wake up and for a split second, I feel her arms around me and her lips on mine, and then I realize that it was all just a dream. And it doesn’t help that I see her in Harley every time the angel opens her mouth-”

     “Isn’t Harley the little girl in your pack? Why would....” Danny trails off, staring at him with wide eyes. Peter closes the file, done with the signing, and joins Danny in gaping at him. Maya rolls her eyes at the scene and ruffles Red’s hair.

     “You’re a dumbass,” She tells him proudly, shoves the files back into her bag. She carefully places the binder inside as well, ignoring Peter’s side-eye. 

     “You have a daughter.” Peter declares. 

     “Oh, Peter,” Red sighs deeply, “My best friend became a literal werewolf in my Freshman year of high school, I was kidnapped and beaten half to death by his girlfriend’s psycho grandpa, my high school bully became a snake creature and tried to kill my future ex-boyfriend. My childhood crush became a Banshee, my parents were almost sacrificed to a magic tree by a Druid, I sacrificed my mind instead, and then I had a demon fox possess me and kill one of my closest friends. Oh, and let’s not forget the Alpha pack. Then, I was cast out of the pack I had been apart of since the beginning, had everyone I loved turn their backs on me, and actually ran away from home with nothing but a shitty jeep and a backpack.

“I went to Harvard at 19 years old. I made my own pack that same Freshman year and became a human Alpha before Jason came along. I became a notorious figure in the hunting community, I gained a following. I became incredibly rich from the cases and graduated from Harvard a year early. I had 2 majors in English Language and Literature, and History and a minor in Philosophy and Religious Studies. I got married at 21 years old and had a daughter 5 months after that. Why are you even remotely surprised anymore?” 

     They sit in silence for a moment, respect washing over Peter’s face. Maya slung her bag over her shoulder and stood up, lending Red a hand.

     “We really do need to get going. I’m sure we missed a few points and you’ll probably think of a few questions you didn’t ask, so plan a meeting for our pack to introduce ourselves and give me a call. If you want Mica’s personal number just call me later and I’ll give it to you, I’m sure you want to catch up more. In the meantime, you’ll have to excuse us; our Alpha awaits,” Maya informs them, turns on her heels, and stalks out of the diner.

     “Bye,” Red bids farewell, and leaves after his sister.

     “That was shit,” He relents the second he’s out of the diner, and Maya scoffs.

     “Let’s go back to the motel, debrief everyone, then get shitfaced drunk and cry about it.”

     “Fuck. Yes.”

Chapter Text

      By the time they got back to the motel, Maya had passed out in the passenger seat, and Red had made a good 15 calls to his contacts asking for helpful information concerning the roaming Omega. A quick text from Nathan had informed him that June and Harley were back at the motel and that they hadn’t run into any problems. 

      The darkness always made Red feel better. Ever since he was a child, the consuming black made his heart slow down and his breaths come easier. His ever-fidgeting fingers would come to a stop, and his feet would quit tapping. His mind would finally rest.

      He would go wander in the woods once he hit about 8th grade. His dad started working more, sleeping in his office, barely leaving the department, and Scott started letting himself get more rebellious - so, he’d pack himself up in a warm jacket and a pair of his dad’s 3-size-too-big boots and sneak out into the woods. Even when Scott was busy studying or practicing lacrosse, he’d find himself in the woods anyway.

     After Void, he didn’t like the dark as much. The silence of his bedroom at night made him feel like he was drowning, the tears in his eyes making him gasp for breaths like he was underwater. He could no longer stare down the street from the front porch without seeing figures in the dark. He could barely handle stumbling into the kitchen for a snack at midnight without panicking when the coat-rack in the corner looked a little bit too much like someone watching him.

     But now… now it was a part of him. He had embraced the darkness years ago, and now it accompanied him wherever he went. The shadows swallowed him easier now, and even in his bright red hoodie he somehow managed to disappear. He wasn’t afraid to glide through the dark alleyways of a ghost town, and he didn’t worry about the monsters lurking in the closet. 

     Even moreso, he embraced the darkness in him. Now more than ever, he was comfortable with it. He knew since the beginning that he was different from the others. Scott saw the best in everyone, no matter what they did. Allison didn’t focus on the darkness or light, just the actions of those around her. Even Derek and Peter seemed to view people off of their worthiness.

     But, back when Red was just Stiles, he saw people for what they were. He knew Peter was a bad man, he knew Derek wasn’t what he said he was, he knew something was up with Allison’s family, he even predicted everything with Erica, Boyd, and Isaac. He had known something was wrong with Jackson, and that Lydia was innocent.

     For some reason, it was always overlooked. Because he was just Stiles - skinny, defenseless, stupid Stiles who couldn’t fight and was failing his classes and had to take pills for his ADHD because he couldn’t stop moving . So they ignored what he had to say, and never gave him an ounce of credit when he turned out to have been right. It was always ‘Scott this’ and ‘Derek that’ and… and he was the side-kick. He was the comedic relief.

     And then he left.

     And now? Now he was the main character.

    Strong, powerful Mica Covelo. A man who had grown up too soon; who worked for what he had, and deserved every bit of it. He made a name; a life for himself. He wasn’t the good guy, sure… but he was something. He fought for justice, no matter the consequences. Reasons be damned. He did what he thought was right.

     And that was what had always made him different from the others. It wasn’t the ADHD, skinny body, clingy personality, whiny voice, stupid graphic tees. It was the darkness that was purely his own. It had always terrified him, after Void - the way he remembered everything. He thought he was supposed to have been inside his mind. Out of control.

     But he always had a sliver of it. He always had a tiny ounce of control over his hands when he drove that sword into Scott and twisted it around. He had some power left when he left the bomb in the police station. And he liked it. Maybe not the way he had always seen he did - he didn’t enjoy the pain he was causing to innocent people. He liked the rush of finally doing something that he was good at. 

      Scott was good at saving people. Allison was good at archery. Lydia was good at school. Jackson was good at lacrosse. Danny was good at hacking. Derek was good at fighting. Peter was good at planning.

     And Red?

     Red was good at killing.

    “Hey, Maya,” Red mutters lowly, reaching over to shake his sister from her nap. She blinks away the sleep from her eyes with a groan, shifting in her seat. She opens her eyes blearily and stares at him.

     “We’re here,” He explains, gesturing vaguely at the Motel they were parked in front of. She sighs deeply but unbuckles herself anyway, stumbling out of the car. Goosebumps prickle at his arms when he pushes the door open, but he ignores it. It’s only about 55° outside. He had no reason to be genuinely cold. 

     “I’ll grab your bag,” Red tells Maya quietly, “You just head inside. It’s Room 201.” He hands her the key and pushes her off, letting her stumble her way into the building. He slings the bag over his shoulder and locks the car, muttering a quick ward over the locks to make sure they couldn’t be undone. It was one-too-many times that some asshole tried to steal the car when they were on a case. 

     His steps are slow but sure as he drags himself towards the front entrance. His hair is a mess after the million times he had run his fingers through it while ranting about the Hell he’s going through just standing in Beacon Hills. His clothes are a tad too warm and wrinkled from sitting in the car for too long.

     It’s almost 10:30 now. Harley is probably asleep on the bed with Nathan, who had always had trouble staying up later than 9:00. June and Jason are probably sat on the floor surrounded by a million papers, tired from researching. And Maya is probably just now stepping inside, tossing her coat and shoes randomly through the room and dropping onto the bed without a word.

     It’s hard for everyone; Red knows that better than anyone. It’s hard for them to be here. For the first four years of knowing them, he rarely spoke of Beacon Hills and the people in it. Other than with Cherry, he very rarely talked about what had happened. It wasn’t until she died that he realized that these people - this pack - were going through many of the same things he did. He knew what it was like; he finally had someone to actually relate to.

    After explaining everything he had went through, the pack had been livid. Angry at this town and every person in it for making him suffer the way he did. They didn’t care that it was over now because it had happened and that was enough. No apologies were made. He was gone before anyone had had the chance to even realize he wasn’t happy.

     And now it hurts them to be here. Because they’re learning first hand what he experienced. They’re seeing the streets he walked, the buildings he sat in, the woods he roamed. He’s meeting the people he used to love. The people he grew up with, the people who raised him. The people who laughed with him, cried with him, mourned with him. 

     Yet, they have to stay silent. They have to pretend to not care that every second they sit here, watching and waiting, they can tell that he’s in pain. Because he is. The pain of being here is encompassing.

     What’s truly horrible, though, is that it isn’t just a sad or angry pain. It’s the pain of knowing that things have changed. The pack dynamics surely shifted after he left, for one. His dad clearly changed a bit, if he was involved enough with the pack that he could be bitten first-hand. 

     But what hurts the most is that in the end, nothing has changed at all. Scott is still the True Alpha. Derek still thinks growling at someone will get them to back down. Peter is still an ass. Melissa still works too hard, Danny is still too kind, and this town. This goddamn town is still so horrifyingly ordinary. 

     He doesn’t notice he’s standing in front of the motel room door until he accidentally hits his hand on the doorknob. He flinches slightly as his knuckles begin to throb, and he glances up to sigh at the door.

     Hopefully, Jason will let him go to bed and sleep off the fatigue plaguing his body. The anxiety of the past few days has been itching at the back of his mind, and he’s hoping a good few hours of sleep will snap him out of it. 

     When he first steps inside, he notices the quiet first. Second, is the near-complete darkness. Next, is the hunched figures of Nathan, Harley, and Maya curled up on the bed. The last, being Jason and June splayed out across the floor in front of the bed, papers strewn about them. 

     Harley and Nathan are both dressed up in their PJ’s, while Maya only had the decency to strip off her jacket, shoes, and belt before climbing into bed with them. June is in one of Red’s t-shirts, the v-neck hanging low as she stretches her arm out beside her as she yawns. Jason is wearing a simple pair of black sweatpants and a tank-top.

     June shoots him a tired smile and nudges Jason lightly. He stirs only slightly but settles down without seconds. Red opts to just let him sleep.

     “Bed?” He mouths at her, jerking his head over at the bed not occupied by the others. She nods softly, reaching her arms up like a toddler begging to be held. He huffs fondly, setting Maya’s bag down beside his shoes and slips his jacket off. He strides over to her and wraps his arms around her middle, pulling her up into a hug.

     “Hard night?”

     “Memories,” Is all she sighs in return, and that’s all it takes. Red scoops her into his arms properly and dumps her onto the bed, tucking her under the covers as he does with Harley. She seems to have the same thought because she sends him a sweet smile and shoves her face into the pillow immediately. Red moves over to crouch at Jason’s side.

     “Jay,” He whispers, stroking his thumb over his face tenderly. The Alpha opens his eyes slowly, humming in question, “Gonna get into bed with June, need you off the floor first.”

     Jason pulls himself onto his feet with Red’s helping hand, and soon he’s collapsing into bed right beside June. He curls into himself, reaching out to pull him in, too. The boy swats him away, snickering fondly.

     “Soon,” He mutters as an explanation, before slipping his clothes off and rummaging through his suitcase, shrugging on a pair of sweatpants and one of Nathan’s hoodies. He doesn’t want to wear the red one - it’s still got some blood on it. He tidies up the floor a bit, piling the papers together and turning off the last few lights around the room. Finally, he locks the door and windows, warding them shut. When he’s fully done, he makes his way over to the bed.

     “Scooch,” He giggles lowly, and Jason does. He climbs in smoothly, tucking himself into Jason’s chest and pulling the blanket over both of their shoulders as he does so. Jason wraps an arm around his waist securely, pressing his face against his shoulder. Red closes his eyes with a long, deep sigh. 

     “Goodnight, Jay,” Red murmurs, and Jason just pulls him ever closer. 

     Hopefully, tomorrow won’t be as horrible.

Chapter Text

 He’s out of the Motel room before anyone else is even stirring. He made sure to send a group text to everyone, assuring them that he was okay and that they could call him when they woke up. Clad in a pair of black combat boots (with some caked blood on the bottom that he definitely needs to clean out), some black jeans with a horrifying bullet-shaped hole in the leg, Nathan’s Led Zeppelin t-shirt worn with age, and his favorite black leather jacket, he looked like an actual hoodrat. 

     He stuck out like a sore thumb. The closest thing to a ‘rebellious style’ you could find in Beacon Hills was Derek and his black Henleys. The rest of the town consisted of cuffed blue jeans, sneakers, and plain grey t-shirts that made him want to vomit directly on the person wearing them. 

     Luckily, after almost 6 months of what Cherry had dubbed ‘fashion counseling’, he was now capable of rocking his own style. Maya called it a ‘bad boy sex addict’. That had horrified him on a deeply personal level.

     Red wasn’t a fan of mornings. He preferred nighttime by far, and the feeling of waking up at 6:00 am and having to drag yourself out of your warm bed to function in society is absolutely the worst. However, in this case, it was necessary. 

     He knew how the McCall pack worked. He doubted anyone would even be remotely awake for another 3 hours, maybe even 4 if they spent all night talking about him with Danny and Peter. He wasn’t sure how much they would have explained it all, considering he wasn’t entirely close with them even when he lived here before. But, in the end, it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t here to be friends, he was here to kill the Omega and find a way to get rid of the Wendigo.

   The moments of silence in Beacon Hills were few and between. While it wasn’t as busy as New York City, there was always something. At least, it had felt that way for most of his life there. Perhaps it was the constant movement of his body due to ADHD or the business of his daily running-away-from-evil-supernatural-shit. He hadn’t paid much attention to the rest of the town once Scott first turned. His life had been too far from ordinary for him to so much as consider spending a day at the bowling alley or the mall. 

     Now, however, Beacon Hills felt so much smaller than he remembered. Every street felt narrow, every road felt shorter, and every house seemed closer. The more he drove, the more he realized that the town had felt so big because he had been so small.

     And that was what made him angrier than anything else.

     He had been so young when it all began. 15 years old. He was lanky and thin, he was clumsy and loud, he was easily distracted, he got shoved into lockers, and he talked too much during class. He was every other awkward 15-year-old boy in the world. And then Scott became a werewolf. 

     He grew up too fast. He had realized that once he left. He met people in college who still didn’t know how to make a proper meal, or who needed help cleaning a stove because they never learned how. He met 25-year-old men who were afraid of the dark and 20-year-old girls who didn’t understand how he was so good at wrapping their hands up when they cut themselves cooking.

     When Scott became a werewolf, he grew up even faster than he had been before. He learned the hard way that sometimes, your best isn’t good enough. He learned that all those years, when his dad would tell him he shouldn’t be afraid of the dark, he had been wrong. 

     He learned how to wrap up someone’s bleeding leg in 10 seconds flat in the backseat of a car. He learned how to navigate the woods with a mild concussion and a broken rib. He learned how to hide a bruise the size of his chest from an entire group of teenage boys in a cramped locker room. He learned how to knock someone on their ass with one kick while they have their hands around his neck. 

     Even before Derek Hale happened, he had been too knowledgeable in things he shouldn’t have known. He learned how to drive by the time he turned 10 years old (against his dad’s better judgment). He learned what meals were easiest to make without any proper nutritional ingredients. He learned how to go shopping for both clothes and groceries. He learned how to sew a hole in his sweatshirt with a bent needle and a thread pulled from his blanket.

     He had been 15-years-old. Too young to be running for your life. Too young to be beaten half to death in a basement. Too young to have your old high school bully hunt you down in a swimming pool. And it only got worse from there. Decalion, the Nematon, Void, Allison. This town had felt too big and too small since day one. 

     And now here he was. 26 years old, a single father, in a pack, with a criminal record as long as the fucking Constitution. Driving through his old personal Hell. And… and he wasn’t afraid anymore. He wasn’t afraid of what might be waiting for him if he turned a corner. He wasn’t afraid of the idea that, at any moment, he might get a call from Lydia saying that something was wrong with the pack. 

     He wasn’t afraid anymore.

     “Stiles?” 

     That’s a lie. He’s fucking terrified. 

     Red tenses up almost painfully, his back going taut and his fingers clutching around his keys so tight that the ridges are digging into the calluses of his hand. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and, he was a dog, he was sure his ears would be flat against his head. 

     He didn’t turn to look at the source of the voice. That would mean that he’d have to have a conversation. Which would mean that he would have to be there. And, currently, the last thing he wants is to be there. 

     He opts for twirling his keys in his hand in faux nonchalance and tugging his jacket a bit tighter on his way to the door. He can hear the crunching of shoes following behind him, but he pays them no mind. He speeds up a bit and lets out a long, deep breath. He yanks open the door and rushes in, whining in the back of his throat when he spots Danny almost immediately. 

     He swoops into the seat across from him smoothly, dropping his keys onto the table in front of him. Danny jumps in surprise, turning his eyes to stare at him. He notes the silence surrounding their table, happy that Isaac hadn’t followed him to the table. He probably saw that he was meeting Danny and figured that he should give them privacy. At least he had kept his puppy-dog manners.

     “Stiles,” Danny nods at him, happy to see him. 

     “Danny,” He greets in return. 

     Red was glad to see that he hadn’t changed her number when he texted this morning asking if he’d like to get coffee.

     “So,” He finally lets out, taking a slow breath, “You have a daughter. Let’s start with her. Tell me everything.”

     “Ask away.”

“What’s her name?”

“Harley. Harley Covelo,” At Danny’s questioning look, Red huffs, “She took her mom’s last name. It’s a whole big thing about a wolf dynasty living in Spain. Technically she’s an heir, but because Cherry was adopted, or fostered, into the family, she’s not associated by blood. Some people care, some people don’t.”

“So… Cherry and the other girl-” 

“Maya.”

“-Maya, they were sisters, but not by blood.”

“Exactly. To be fair, visually it’s obvious. Fiery red hair on Cherry versus Maya’s Spanish heritage. They stuck out like sore thumbs as kids, apparently. I heard stories. Most people thought they were just best friends, which was sort of true. Cherry - long story, really, I’ll spare you - she was adopted in very young. About Harley’s age, actually.”

Danny listens intently, smiling along as he does, “And how old is Harley? I did the math, I figured around 5 years old, but with give or take a 9 month pregnancy I wasn’t sure.”

“Yeah,” Red laughs, “Yeah, she’s a bit over 5. She’s preemptively telling people 5-and-a-half, but she’s not quite there yet.”

“What’s it like? I mean, you’re the first of all of us to have a kid. And you would’ve been… 21?” Danny asks, “What was it like? How did she even come along? Was she…”

“On purpose?” Red shoots back with a crooked grin, “Sort of. Call it a happy little accident. Cherry and I were halfway through college - given that I was on track to graduate early, I was almost done with my associates; though I never went back, I’d originally been planning to go for at least 6 years total. Cherry and I were together almost 2 years by the time she found out she was pregnant. We were actually on a case; the business was a start-up, just a baby still, and we were sort of low on people. The pack was a bit bigger, but not everyone was needed for the recon, so it was just us two. We flew out to Seattle to check in with a vampire den that was supposedly preying on local homeless shelters.”

He sighs wistfully, “Aside from the fact that we had to kill half the coven and threaten the others to cooperate, it was an easy one. But Cherry’d been off the whole time, tired and sickly. Throwing up and everything. I cracked a joke about protection,” He coughs, “You know. She got all nervous about it so I ran to the store and picked her up a test. Just to be sure.”

“And?” Danny asks teasingly.

“We were sure.” Red deadpans, laughing. They each crack a smile.

“So you were unmarried at the start. Then what happened? You mentioned an incident…”

Red jerks his head up and down in a semblance of a nod, “The Troll Incident ™. We were called into Las Vegas while Cherry was almost halfway through the pregnancy. I didn’t want her to go, but she insisted that she be my- our- backup. Lemme tell ya, Danny, trolls aren’t like they are in The Hobbit. Trolls, at least in Nordic and Scandinavian mythology, are cave dwellers. They like to stay away from civilization. So, when we got called into Las Vegas to investigate, identify, and kill or capture whatever was pulling people into the sewer system, we didn’t assume trolls. But when we got there…” Red waves his hands in a ‘you know’’ gesture, “Trolls.”

“It was bad?” Danny grimaces.

“Really bad. We had no idea what we were walking into. We’d considered numerous other creatures. Assumed an underground vampire coven first, because while they’re common in Las Vegas, most of the covens are established with casinos and certain city blocks. But then we got there, and shit got real. We almost lost a few, thank God we didn’t. Cherry and Jason’s mom were both hospitalized for a bit, but aside from a few scars, nobody was hurt. Harley wasn’t any worse for wear, either.”

“Damn.” Danny shakes his head, “So then you got hitched, huh?”

“Right after. I gave her a Ring Pop for the wedding ring, and she stitched up a veil out of some hotel sheets, and we eloped. She had Harley 5 months after in Massachusetts; that’s where our, uh, headquarters is.”

“What’s her birthday?” Danny leans forward in apt interest.

“April 11th,” Red says proudly.

“So, Cherry was a wolf, right? Did Harley take after her?”

     “She’s a Spark, like me. That means that she has magic. It’s both normal to be a wolf at birth and normal to be a Spark. It’s abnormal to be both. She didn’t inherit the wolf from Cherry- uh, her mom. But she’s damn good with magic.”

     “What does ‘magic’ mean? Is it like Harry Potter or like… Gandalf?” Danny questions curiously. Red lets out an amused chuckle, shaking his head.

     “Sort of. There are 4 main types of Spark. Each type is the best way to channel it, and while you don’t have to use that kind of channel, it’s easier to use the magic that way.”

     “What are the types?”

     “Well, first is the Elemental Spark, which is the most common. The easiest way to channel this kind is through outlying mediums. There are sub-categories, such as Animalia and plantateous. For instance, to channel an Animalia Spark, it’s easiest to have a familiar that shares your magic to keep yourself from tiring out. For a plantateous Spark, you can channel your magic through the plants you are working with. True elements are harder to master, and most focus on just one. In that case, you channel your magic through the energy in each element, such as the heat in fire or the currents in the air. Some people master all of the elements, but there are very few who try and succeed.”

     Danny is leaning forward in his seat, picking at his nails as he listens intently. Questions burn in his eyes; Red can’t help but smile to himself. Danny always did love to learn. It was a shame that he hadn’t been here to tell Danny all about Supernatural creatures. He had a lot to say.

     “Next is the Spell-Cast Spark. This is the basic version of Alchemy. A Spell-Cast Spark is where you use your body, mind, and soul’s magic to channel energy into spells. Spells are thousands of years old and are very hard to create, contrary to popular belief. Words have meaning - names, for instance, hold the entirety of one’s being. To channel a Spell-Cast Spark, you project your magic into the words and use them to guide your wishes toward their goal. This is less complicated than it sounds, I promise. The hardest part is learning how to pronounce the spells. Also, no. They’re not all in Latin. Many spells are in Ancient Greek, Latin, Japanese, and even German.”

     “You can’t force a spell to do your bidding, as words have their own meaning and own uses. You can only… well, call it ‘persuade it’. You say the words, use your magic and if you aren’t doing it right, the spell won’t do what you want it to.”

     “Alchemy is not a type of Spark, but it is the more advanced version of Spell-Cast Sparks. Alchemy is using spells and magic to create potions that can enhance certain abilities, like speed and strength.”

     Danny nods along, “So, what is the difference between Alchemy and Elemental?” 

     “Elemental is where you use your magic to mix it with living or energized pre-existing organisms and elements. Sort of like molecular covalent bonds. Alchemy is where you put your magic into a mixture of elements and use it to increase the magic in it.” He explains. Danny hums in understanding. 

     “The third type of Spark is Dark Magic Sparks. Dark Magic is… well, it’s certainly dark. It’s difficult to achieve, as it often needs to pull from your own energy and magic to increase its own use. To use Dark Magic, you normally need to be able to use Spells and Alchemy as well. Necromancy, Shadow Magic, Blood Magic, and Ritualistic Magic all fall under this category. To use one of these, you have to be well-versed in all of them. You use Shadow Magic and Rituals to use Necromancy. You use Ritualistic Magic and Blood Magic for possessions. You can often also apply Elemental to Dark Magic as well.”

     “However, Dark Magic is dangerous to others as well as yourself. It pulls your magic for itself and uses it. It’s exhausting, dangerous, and all-consuming. Much like a drug, it’s corrupt. Once you start a process of Dark Magic, it will keep taking from you until you use a Ritual to stop. The Nematon is not a Dark Magic object, but the Druid was a Dark Magic Spark. Jennifer used a Ritual and sacrifices, which fall under that umbrella. You don’t necessarily channel your magic through anything; you feed your magic to it and it does as you please. Dark Magic is, in its own right, alive.” 

     He pauses for a moment, frowning. 

     “Void didn’t use Dark Magic, though.”

     Danny’s eyebrows jump up and he gapes at him.

     “Really? I thought… how?”

     “Void was a dark entity. A spirit. He didn’t use Dark Magic; he was Dark Magic. He was a product of it by his own existence; he was not conjured, he was merely born of it. He didn’t use a spell, a potion, his blood, a ritual, or necromancy to take control of my body; he did it of his own accord. Therefore, he did not use it, he was it.”

     Danny nods in fascination, eyes apt as he watches the way Red trails his hands along the sides of the table, tapping them in a pattern as he thinks.

     “The last type of Spark is Almighty Magic. Almighty Magic is…” He pauses, eyes flicking back and forth between the table and Danny’s hands, thinking.

     “Almighty Magic is very, very basically, all of the above.” He finishes, “It’s when you’ve mastered one of each category. For instance, a friend of mine in the Court of the Magi has mastered Elemental Earth Magic, Alchemy, and Bone Magic. Another friend of mine who isn’t in the Court has mastered Animalia Elemental Magic, Spell-Cast Magic, and Order Magic, which is a lesser version of Ritualistic Magic.”

     “There are many, many sub-categories. They all fall under each of these large branches. For instance - Destruction Magic and Chaos Magic also fall under Dark Magic, but to master them does not qualify you to be Almighty. Jennifer had used Druidic Magic, which consists of multiple subcategories, like Ritualistic Magic.”

     “There are sub-categories that, instead of qualifying you as a true Spark, can qualify you as a witch or wizard if mastered. For instance; a friend of mine, Salem, mastered Fungus Magic. She can use basic Alchemy to help her Fungus Magic. She grows and uses her Fungi to make potions. She’s a certified doctor.”

“The point is, you can either be born a Spark or learn low-level, low-energy magic. Not just anyone is a Spark. When and if you are born that way, you are born with an affinity for one of those types of magic. A… predisposition, I guess. A talent. That isn’t to say you can’t learn and practice other categories of it, but it is significantly harder and takes a lot more time, effort, and energy. Especially depending on the kind of magic you’re trying to do. Sparks are semi-common - less so than most other supernatural creatures, but that’s largely because you can’t turn someone into one like you can as a vampire or were-creature. Sparks are born that way. Sometimes it’s genetic, sometimes it’s a freak accident.”

     Red lets out a long breath, leaning back in his chair. He stretches his arms out to the sides, yawning. He had slept fine enough, though sweating through Nathan’s hoodie from the thousand-degree Motel Room, but the exhaustion of being back in Beacon Hills was wearing him down to the bone.

     “So, what type of Spark are you and Harley?” Danny questions suddenly, wondering in his eyes. Red pauses, considering. 

     “Harleen is studying basic Spell-Cast at the moment, and I’m teaching her what types of ingredients and spells work together so that she’ll have a grasp on Alchemy early on. She’s so young, it’s hard to know what talent she’s got. I have my suspicions, though. Not to speak too soon…” He explains pride tinted in his tone. “And I’m an Almighty Spark.”

     Danny snaps his eyes to him, attentive.

     “Really?” He gasps. Red sighs and agrees.

     “I’ll spare you the details of all the types I practice because frankly, I’m a Jack of all trades. I’ve got my toe dipped in most types of magic, subcategories and all,” Red says. Danny offers a mildly disappointed frown at being withheld information, but otherwise listens intently, “My main focus, though… is called Death Magic.”

Danny’s eyebrows jump to his forehead, and he straightens up somewhat in his seat. He seems startled, or shocked. As though Red - as though Stiles - practicing something like that doesn’t make any sense. Which is somewhat flattering, and somewhat ridiculous. Even before Void had taken over his body, mind, and soul, murdered tens of people, tortured others, and blown up buildings, Red had thrown a Molotov cocktail at Insane-Peter (burn-victim-still-recovering-Peter (he’ll never fully forgive himself for that. He could’ve at least killed him some other way!))

Irregardless. Danny clearly still associates Red with Stiles. As time passes, and people die, he’ll learn from that mistake.

“It’s much like Necromancy, only… well, the opposite. I can drain life from anything if it has a life force; I can either drain them of all life force to the point of death, or I can just drain them enough to take some of their energy. It’s not an entirely bad thing. For instance - when I’ve been fighting for long periods and I’m running low on energy, I drain Maya or Jason of some of their energy and use it for myself. It boosts my magic and, if I take enough, my health.”

     “However, if I want to kill someone, I can completely drain them of their life force and take their energy for myself. When I drain Maya of a little bit of energy, I’m not taking away her life to the point of death. It also doesn’t take her life from later years or reduce her age. It just takes her energy; it’s like reverse Necromancy.” 

     Danny frowns slightly, “Can you transfer energy back to life?”

     “No, that’s called Life Magic. It’s a mixture of Healing Magic and Necromancy. I can’t return the energy to the person, or breathe life back into them.”

     “Can you drain someone of their magic?” 

     “No, I only take life and energy. Magic is something else entirely.”

     “So how do you do it? Is it like a spell or a ritual?”

     Red pauses, drumming his fingers against the table a few times before huffing a laugh, “Well, it’s Dark Magic. As I said before, you often use pieces of each other kind of Spark to properly use Dark Magic. It’s a short process but it’s fairly easy.”

     “To do it as a mutual sharing is far less painful. I take some sort of vaguely sharp object, like a pencil, butter knife, or actual knife if I plan on taking a shit ton, and draw the ritualistic markings on both my arm and the person I’m taking from. We hold each other’s hands to connect our palms, I say the spells, they say their own, and then we wait a few seconds. We can’t let go until the end.”

     “Does the other person have to have magic to do it? Since they’re saying a spell.”

     Red blinks at him, “Oh, right, I didn’t explain that,” He sighs, “No, they don’t. The spell they say doesn’t count as an actual spell - it’s more of saying they accept the transference of their energy. Much like how you have to let a vampire into your home. That’s why it’s not painful to do it if you do it right; the person is allowing it to happen.”

     “On the other hand, to do it improperly and to rip the energy away from someone is extremely painful. I’ve had it happen to me, and it feels like having your organs slowly carved out of your chest. Hurts like a bitch,” He huffs, “Anyway, to do that, I just stab them through their wrist into my own so that their blood drips into my wound. I say a darker version of the other spell. Then I hold on to them until the ritual is done.”

     Danny grimaces at the mental image, eyeing Red’s arms as he taps away at the table, “How many times have you done that?”

     “Well, I rarely have such a hard time in a fight that I need to do it, so I’ve only done it the hard way twice. The proper way is far less painful and way easier, so I do it fairly often with Jason. He’s the Alpha, so he has the most useful amount of life to take. It doesn’t scar much either, since I only need light lines for the ritual. That means that just making tiny lines from a butter knife is fine.”

     Red reaches his right hand out, palm up, and shows it to Danny, flashing the scars at him. They look like jagged knife wounds, with something akin to burns around them. Danny gulps lightly.

     “If you don’t do a ritual properly, it’s detrimental. It hurts the other party. It also hurts me. This shit took 3 weeks to heal afterward each time,” He gestures up with his palm, glaring at the scars. 

     “So, are all rituals like that?” Danny questions. Red nods.

     “Yes, for the most part,” He agrees, “While rituals are mostly just Dark Magic, they still need to be done properly. Magic can’t be half-assed. Think of it like this: you can’t say half a spell and expect it to work. You have to say all of it so that it’ll do what you ask. It’s the same way.”

     Danny ‘ahh’s at his words, dropping his chin into his palm.

     “Fascinating. So how do you know what your- affinity? Talent? How do you know what it is? You said that your daughter is too young for you to know, right?”

     “Yeah, she’s still too young to fully see. She can learn basic magic, and I’ve been having her start off on some low-level stuff - helping me with some alchemy, and teaching her some basic pronunciation of spells that’ll come in handy. That way she’s got an idea. In a year or two I’ll start her up on trying the basics of each kind of magic. Once you know, you know. Whatever her talent is, the second she uses that kind of magic, she’ll know.” Red explains, “She’ll let me know.”

“How did you know, specifically? I know about the Mountain Ash, that was mentioned once or twice with Deaton 'cause he tried to have me use it,” Danny asks. At Red’s quirking eyebrow, he smiles sheepishly, “I’m definitely not a Spark. Couldn’t make it do shit for me.” Red laughs.

“I got some… well, let’s just call it tutoring. I had a tutor in college when I first started trying to utilize my Spark. She helped me control it. When I was younger, it was just little things like Deaton giving me Mountain Ash, and stuff like that. As I got older, it was hard to really tell where my magic was coming from and where it was going - because of the Nemeton, I think. Like trying to read a compass with a giant tree-sized magnet sitting next to you. After Void, my magic sort of changed.”

“Changed?” Danny’s eyebrows furrow. 

“I was possessed by a dark spirit. A chaos entity. If it had possessed anyone else, like you, it wouldn’t have done the same damage. It utilized the parts of my Spark I never even knew were there - reaching out to the Oni, the Nemeton, creeping into the darker parts of my mind, body, and soul. Think of it as an infection in a plant. It spread down to the roots, cut off my Spark at the very inner part of me, and took it for itself.”

“So… it infected your Spark. Made your magic… darker?”

Red shrugs, toying with the sleeve of his jacket and eyeing a patron as she comes to stand before their table. She sets two glasses of water down before them, a small notebook tucked under her arm. She smiles at the both of them, shy and sickly sweet, tucking long blond hair behind her ear as she eyes Red’s leather jacket and peaking tattoos. Danny thanks her absentmindedly for the water. 

“Hi there, I’m Natalie, would you like anything to get you started today?” She asks in a lilting voice, entirely directed at Red. He hums, leaning nonchalantly in the booth with a hand raised to circle the rim of his glass. The condensation drips down to the table slowly, inching toward the ugly, inexpensive wood adorned with scratches and scrapes. Danny eyes his scarred hand but otherwise doesn’t offer her anything but a smile. 

“Hello,” Red nods smoothly, “It’s been a while since I’ve been here - do you still do those Cinnamon French Toast? The ones with the berries, and the syrup, and everything?” Natalie nods far too enthusiastically, shuffling toward him a little as she pulls out her little notebook and a pen from her breast pocket. 

“Y-Yeah, um, yeah we still make that. It’s sort of a special order though so we- it’ll charge an extra-”

Red waves her off with an at-ease gesture, “Not a problem. If I could two of those to-go. And a cherry coke, too, if you don’t mind.” 

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” Natalie writes it down, “And, um, would you like-”

“Just everything with it, thanks. Danny?”

Danny jerks, suddenly thrust into the conversation that he’d been avidly watching (watching Red, because Stiles 8 years ago would have been fumbling his way through ordering his soppingly sweet breakfast order to a pretty girl who, back then, wouldn’t have even blinked twice at him). He waves his hands awkwardly to Red and asks for his order as well.

“That one’s for here,” Red offers, and at Danny’s questioning look, winks slyly at him, “He’s awaiting company. I’m the one with places to be.” Natalie tries for another flirty smile. Red pays her no mind, only nodding politely as she leaves.

“I’ve got company?” Danny asks unsubtly. Red stares, “Yeah, okay. When’d you see him?”

“When I walked in. He followed me in. He thought it was me, called after me and everything. After this, I’m sure he knows.”

“Would you- I mean,” Danny fumbles, “Look, I know you… you left. For a reason. And I don’t blame you! Of course, I don’t. But I just hope that- that with how we are, you know, and how you’re here for your dad, and I heard you were nice to Melissa-”

“Danny.” Red laughs, “Relax.”

Danny slumps into his chair, “God, sorry. I’m being ridiculous. Look, I just think that Isaac and you would get on pretty well. Neither of you are the same as you were 8 years ago. A lot of the pack felt a lot of guilt when you left, Isaac included. I know you guys didn’t always get along, but-”

“Danny, all we did was not get along. Our entire relationship was built on not liking each other.”

“I know, I know,” Danny laughs, “But really, you guys were in high school still. He’d been freshly turned into Derek’s beta and thrust into the world of Kanimas and Alpha packs. You were trying to figure out your side of things with Scott. Don’t you think you guys could put it behind you? I’m sure he’d like to.”

“I’m sure he would,” Red deadpans. Danny sighs, shaking his head, and sips at his water, “Look, Danny. This isn’t a vacation for me, I’m not here to catch up and visit everybody. I’m only here because my dad got attacked by your pack’s stupid Omega wolf, and I’m only staying because of the Wendigo. As soon as this is all over me and my pack are leaving, and we aren’t coming back. So forgive me if I don’t feel the need to parade around reuniting with all my old friends and foes.” 

Danny sits silently for a moment, eyes attached to the table between them. Red watches him as he does so, tapping his fingers along his glass; he narrows his eyes as he observes the man before him. 

“Danny.” 

His eyes snap up to meet him, and Red tips his head down a little to make more forceful eye contact. He straightens up, and Danny subconsciously does the same. They sit for a moment before Red nods, seemingly coming to a conclusion. To what, Danny doesn’t know.

“I’m going to kill that Omega. I’m not going to be nice, kind, or courteous about it. I don’t care if Scott doesn’t like it. I don’t care if you tell me it’s wrong. I’m going to rip it to shreds and mount its head on my wall as a warning to anyone who dares look at the people I love. And once I’ve done that, I’m going to piece together every weapon, every spell, every ritualistic dark magic shit I can find, and I’m going to hunt that Wendigo down. I’m going to decimate it. There will be no evidence. No proof it ever existed except for a few victims in the morgue. And if Scott, Derek, or anyone else - including you - get in my way, I will destroy your pack and take your land for my own.” 

Danny sits rigidly, looking nervous. He eyes Red; not Stiles, but Mica Covelo. Supernatural Mercenary. He sees him now, eyes unclouded from the ghost of his younger self. He is poised to strike at all times, even went supposedly relaxed. When walking through the cafe, his eyes swept through every exit, every person, and every possible scenario. When seated, he had his front to the door, his hips tilted to allow him out of the booth at a moment's notice. When taking his order, his hand had rested evenly upon his glass, subtle in its power. His runic tattoos always peaking out from beneath his werewolf-scented clothes. His gun holster is always a twitch of his fingers away. 

His eyes bore into Danny with intensity. Watching. Waiting. Assessing.

“The Wendigo is the perfect hunter,” Danny mutters absentmindedly as his eyes sweep up and down his form, “But you are, too.”

Red smiles evenly back at him.

“I like you, Danny,” Red offers, “I would be sad to see you go.”

Danny startles, just as Natalie appears before their table and places their meals before them. Danny does not look to her, or the plate in front of him; he keeps his eyes trained on Red. A subconscious, primal reaction to a threat he is unsure exists. Red is both so familiar and so foreign. At the twitch of his lips, he can mimic young Stiles, his boyish charm slipping through. But all the while he sits there, gun at his hip, eyes stuck to Danny, and he’s not the same at all.

“Thank you, Natalie,” Red nods, pulling his wallet from his jacket, “You accept tips, don’t you? Keep the change.” Natalie stutters out a thank you and takes the offered cash - touching her fingers to Red’s in an obvious gesture, before smiling. 

“Um, not to intrude, but-”

“Please just take the cash and go,” Red interrupts, voice taking an edge, “Don’t make it awkward.” Natalie stops short, eyes widening and cheeks flushing a vivid red before she stumbles out an apology and disappears from the table. Danny grimaces. 

“Couldn’t you have been a little nicer? She had a crush on you,” He grouses. Red stares, unabashed.

“I’m a widower. My daughter is waiting for me in a motel room with my Alpha, whom I fuck on the regular, and my sister-in-law, who would castrate and lynch me had I looked twice at anyone else. Sorry if I don’t care to sit here and be flirted with, but, again , I am not here for a frivolous vacation,” He sneers, and Danny recoils. At this, Red sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, “C’mon, Danny, throw me a bone, here. I get this is weird for you but dammit, I’m here to educate you on the Supernatural, not justify my supposed abstinence.”

Danny nods, “I know. No, you’re right. I’m just- I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around you being… you. Who you are. Not Stiles. It’s hard to think that you have this whole life now that I never saw happen. You have a daughter. I mean, a wife! And you’re only 26. The fact that it’s not Lydia just makes it crazier!”

At this, Red cracks a smile, shaking his head. Dark hair falls handsomely over his forehead, and he brushes it back distractedly, “God, I know. It was so embarrassing. To be fair, I did marry a fiery redheaded girl with green eyes and freckles who was too smart for her own good, so…”

Danny laughs boisterously, “Damn! You have a type.”

“Yeah, you should see Jason. Not the same at all,” Red jokes, and Danny huffs.

“I should,” He agrees easily, “I’d love to meet your pack. Meet your- your daughter.” He pauses for a moment, worrying his lip, “Would you… tell me about her? Is she like you were as a kid? Spazzy and dorky?”

Red gasps in fake offense, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Spazzy and dorky? Me?” He laughs, “No, no, she takes after her mom more. She looks like me though, you’ll see. Dad’s going to have a field day with it. More than anything, she looks like my mom: dark hair, brown eyes, the works. But, God, is she like Cherry. She’s so damn bright. She picks up on all the little things and takes to learning like nothing I’ve ever seen in a kid. She’s clever, too. Mischievous. I have a feeling she’ll have a talent for Chaos Magic, though I can’t prove it, yet. The pack is taking bets.” 

Danny nods along, “So she is like you.”

Red waves a hand at him, “No, no. I was a stupid kid. Yapping and stumbling my way through life. She’s so tactile for her age, and she’s five.”

“I’d love to meet her,” Danny murmurs unthinkingly. Red doesn’t spare it a response, largely because he doesn’t know what to say. 

“Listen, Dan,” Red starts, “I should get going. Harley’s gonna want her breakfast,” He gestures to the to-go boxes, “And I need to debrief everybody on the alleged Wendigo. Plus, we’ve kept Isaac waiting long enough, don’t you think?”

Danny sighs deeply, nodding along. He follows Red’s lead as they both stand, and he steps around the table to pull him into a tight hug. Red claps him on the back and, as he pulls back, squeezes his shoulder. 

“Keep in touch, yeah?” Red offers, and Danny agrees heartily, “We’ll be around. Talk with Peter a bit on what the plan is with us introducing ourselves to your pack. It’s more complicated than just being in the area; there are rules and laws about this sort of thing, especially with our type of business. I’m going to get started on hunting down that Omega now that Peter’s signed the deal, and in the meantime, keep gathering information on the Wendigo. Send Peter to the morgue to look at the bodies - I want to know everything, down to the last detail.”

“Peter said he’d contact Maya today, so I’m sure he’s already reached out. We’ll keep you updated on everything,” Danny says agreeably, “And, uh, listen. Your dad’s condition is evening out, and Melissa mentioned that you’re welcome to visit him at any time, even outside of visitation hours.”

“Thanks, Danny,” Red nods along, “I’ll see you around. Feel free to poach Maya’s and my numbers off of Peter.”

They shake hands, and Red turns to go. As he collects his to-go boxes and steps away, he tosses a goodbye behind him.

“Tell Isaac I say hi.” He sidesteps Natalie as she appears before him, coming out of the kitchen doors at top speed with a tray full of plates balanced precariously in her arms, and slips out the door.