Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m done.”

Derek looked up at Stiles from his spot at the kitchen counter. The loft was in pieces from the last monster of the week and the only place that seemed to have survived was the stainless-steel island and one of the barstools. Which he’d claimed, because it was still his loft dammit.

Scott had been ranting for the last ten minutes at Stiles because he’d killed the harpy that had been stealing babies instead of letting it go. The True Alpha was, in his humble opinion, a true idiot, Stiles did what was necessary and Scott’s black and white view of the world had just pushed his last button.

“What?” Scott sputtered.

Stiles looked up through a fall of messy brown hair and sighed from his spot against the refrigerator. “I said, I’m done. I’m tired of always having to defend myself to you Scott. She was eating babies. I mean, eating them! And you wanted to just, let her go. No. That’s so many levels of bullshit I just can’t anymore. So, this is me drawing a line in the sand. You either get over yourself and start accepting the world is not black and white or I walk, because I’m tired of getting shit on after every battle.”

The entire pack seemed to hold their breath. The others looked at Scott while Derek kept his eyes on Stiles. He agreed with the teen, but he was also a Beta again and he needed an Alpha to keep him from going feral. God, he wished Stiles was the Alpha instead of Scott.

“Then leave.” Scott snarled. “You don’t want to listen to your Alpha, then leave.”

Stiles laughed darkly, eyes flickering a bright amber for a moment. Derek sucked in a sharp breath, the sent of ozone and static electricity faint, but there in the teen’s scent.

“Fine.” He said, pushing himself off the refrigerator and stalking towards the front door.

“And Scott,” he called as he yanked the sliding door open, his eyes flickering again when he looked over his shoulder, “you were never my Alpha.”

Amber eyes met Derek’s for a heart-stopping minute before the door crashed shut. Derek couldn’t stop the small whine he gave even if he’d tried.

The window slid open to Stiles’ bedroom around 3am. What was it with werewolves and un-godly visiting hours?

“Derek I swear… Peter?”

“Hello, sweetheart.” The older man said as he unfurled himself from the window frame. Stiles blinked, rubbing away the sleep and looking around his room.

“Am I having a nightmare? Because you coming in my window at o’dark-thirty is kinda terrifying.”

Peter rolled his eyes before spinning Stiles’ desk chair around to sit on it backwards.

“No, you’re not having a nightmare. I came to check-up on you.”

“Check-up on me.” Stiles repeated warily.

“Yes, after Scott’s little outburst tonight I wanted to make sure you were okay. Is that so difficult to believe?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Yes, yes it is, because for the last year all you’ve done is find new and inventive ways of fucking with us, so forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical.”

Peter hummed non-committedly and then sighed. “Alright, fine, I admit I may have been a bit…difficult, in the beginning.”

Stiles snorted and Peter glared at him.

“But the last month things have changed.”

“Because Derek’s no longer an Alpha?”

Peter pursed his lips, starring at the wall for a few minutes before he finally blew out a breath. “Fine, yes, that’s a big part of it.”

“If I can’t have it no one can, huh? Mature, Petey, real mature.”

“Look,” Peter snapped, eyes narrowed and just the hint of fang, “I admit I hated Derek and Laura for leaving me to rot here by myself and that killing her was some twisted form of revenge, but I wasn’t exactly in my right mind after everything either.”

Stiles blew out a breath, yeah, he knew all that and he kinda agreed it was a shit thing for Laura to do. He didn’t blame Derek though, after Kate and the fire, Derek wouldn’t have been functioning enough to go against a newly turned Alpha to say anything.

“However,” Peter continued after taking a deep cleansing breath, “however, I now know that it wasn’t Derek’s fault, at least about that.”

“If you try and blame Kate on him, so help me, Peter.” Stiles warned, voice as low and gravelly as any wolves. His eyes flashed and the lights flickered once.

Peter sat back, eyes narrowed and head tilted to the side as he assessed just how pissed Stiles was. “Actually, no, I don’t blame him for letting that bitch burn us out. I blame him for not snapping McCall’s neck when he kicked you out.”

The lights stopped flickering and Stiles’ eyes went back to their normal whiskey brown.

“Wait, what?”

“It’s been months since the nogitsune.” Stiles flinched at the name but Peter kept talking. “Months since you managed to pull a hat-trick and save Allison and Aiden. Derek managed to save Erica and Boyd, hell, we even got Cora back and we managed to burn that bitch and her family out once and for all. None of which would have been possible without you, yet all McCall does is knock you down again and again. So, yes, I’m pissed as hell at my idiot nephew for not standing up for you and putting that idiot in his place.”

“Oh.”

Peter gave him a shit-eating grin. “Yes, oh. Well, that and not claiming you, but I know how fucking stupid he can be.”

Peter shrugged like he’d just said water was wet, like everyone in the world knew the two were mates. Hell, Stiles hadn’t even known until Mexico when he thought he’d go out of his freaking mind until they found him and brought him back. That entire thing had been a hell of an eye-opener for the teen. He’d realized Derek was his mate, that the self-sacrificing idiot was probably never going to tell him, and that Kate was still alive. He’d dealt with one of the issues, but not the others.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he could do, given that, and God, did he hate to admit this even to himself, but Peter was probably correct. Derek had never spoken out against Scott, except to growl when the words got a little too biting. The older man would probably never claim him because at the end of the day, he was sure Derek didn’t want him. It was something Stiles was still trying to come to terms with.

Thank God he didn’t have to lie to his dad anymore though. That was the only good thing that came out of the clusterfuck that was his life this past year. After the nogitsune, and definitely after Mexico, he’d said fuck it and sat his dad down and told him everything. He’d been grounded for a month afterwards and his dad had finished a bottle of Scotch, but they were finally back to a relatively stable relationship.

And now this.

“What are you thinking, Little Red?” Peter asked softly.

Stiles looked up in confusion. He hadn’t realized his scent had turned acrid as he’d been thinking. He ground the palms of his hands into his eyes and flopped back on his bed, arms splayed out like a cross.

“I really am alone now, aren’t I?”

Peter stood and walked the four feet to the bed before sitting on the edge. “No. Not if…not if you don’t want to be.”

Stiles rolled his head to look at the man. For once his face was open and his eyes were sincere.

“What are you saying, Peter?”

Peter looked at the window, swallowed, and turned back to the teen. “Since Void your magic has grown and I don’t know if you realize it, but your eyes have started flashing amber.”

Stiles frowned. “And? Deaton said I had a spark, I…”

“Not a spark.” Peter cut in. “The Spark. With a capital S.”

“And?”

“And Sparks are rare, Stiles. They are one of the most powerful magic users out there. Anything more and you’d basically be a Fae.”

A scrunched-up nose told Peter all he needed to know about how the teen felt about that comparison. They’d gotten into a few fights with the Fae over the past year, those guys were assholes.

“What I mean is, you have more magic than Deaton, more magic than any of the witches or warlocks or mages we’ve fought. You just need to be trained. Your eyes say the same thing.”

“So, I’m a wizard, Harry, that’s what you’re telling me?”

“I’m telling you that you could be an Alpha if you wanted.”

Stiles snapped to attention, staring at the other man. “Wait, what? How do you get Alpha from Spark?”

“Like I said, you have basically unlimited magical power. You were already treating the Pack like a bunch of puppies- that’s why your eyes were starting to change. If you wanted to, if you had the intent to,” and yeah, Stiles caught the emphasis on the word, “you could very easily become an Alpha-Spark.”

Honey-gold eyes blinked at him slowly and Peter could see the gears turning as Stiles went through all the ramifications of what Peter had told him. After a few minutes Stiles licked his lips and nodded to himself.

“If I did this…what would that mean for the Pack?”

“An Alpha-Spark is so rare I doubt Scott would have the faintest idea you even were one.”

“And the pups?”

Peter shrugged, “Depends on if there is a pack bond between you or not.”

“A bond…and Derek? Would he feel it?”

Peter sighed softly, “I honestly don’t know. He’s…for all he’s a born wolf he’s kind of stupid about these types of things. He might feel it, but not understand it.”

“And even if he did he might not give a damn,” Stiles huffed out, depression making his scent sour again. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You told me all this for a reason, Peter. How does this effect you? Are you saying you want me as your Alpha?” He narrowed his eyes, “You aren’t planning on killing me are you?”

Peter would have been offended if he hadn’t seen Stiles’ lips twitch. He snagged a pillow and smacked Stiles in the face. “Brat, I should, but no.”

“No what? No, you don’t want me as your Alpha or no you’re aren’t planning on killing me?”

“No, I’m not planning on killing you, yet,” he growled, snapping his teeth at the teen who just laughed at him and hugged the pillow to his chest.

“Okay, so does that mean you want me as your Alpha?”

Peter sighed softly and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’ve wanted you as Pack since the beginning, Stiles. I wanted you as my Beta when I was crazy and out of my mind, but you are not a Beta. Not by a long-shot.” He glanced down at the teen; his face solemn. “You are the very definition of Alpha and I would be damn proud to be your Beta.”

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath. Peter was telling the truth. Fuck him, was he really going to do this? But what were his options, really? Leave things alone and let Scott get everyone killed? Let Peter stay border-line homicidal because he had no connections with the Pack? Let Derek…no. Don’t go there, this wasn’t about Derek, this was about him and what he could do for his town. For his dad and God, yes, even Peter. If he could become an Alpha and train his Spark he could protect everyone. He could make up for everything Void did and maybe even fix that damn tree. He couldn’t do it now, he knew that, but as an Alpha…

Peter’s breath got stuck behind his teeth as Stiles stared at him, his eyes flickering a bright amber until they solidified, the color more rust than gold, just this side of Alpha-red. It was both warm and welcoming, and hard and dangerous and it fit the Spark’s personality perfectly.

He made a whining sound in the back of his throat when Stiles reached out to wrap his hand around Peter’s neck, staring the beta right in the eye. The bond flared hot and fast, snapping into place with enough force to make the older man collapse beside his Alpha.

Stiles pushed and prodded until they were laying on the bed properly. He curled defensibly around the shaking wolf and ran long fingers through the short brown hair soothingly. Stiles hadn’t been sure it would work, but at the same time, he knew it would. That’s how his magic worked after all- the power of belief- like the freaking Force or Tinkerbell.

So, he believed in himself. He believed in his magic and he believed in Peter. Now he just had to figure out what the hell he was going to do about it all.

But that could wait until tomorrow. For now, he had a Beta to soothe and a trig test in two and a half hours. Sometimes, he really hated being a teenager.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

His alarm going off was followed by his dad opening the door and turning the light on. Three months ago, that would have meant Stiles would be digging bullets out of Peter right now, but instead all he gets is a raised eyebrow and a whispered, “Bad night?”

“Bad year, but better now,” he mumbles, dragging himself out of bed and over to his dresser. “Will you be back for dinner tonight? There’s some stuff we should probably talk about.”

Noah nods, a frown on his face. “The harpies?”

Stiles snorts as he tugs a plain black t-shirt over his head. God, what was his life that he’d already forgotten about the baby eating harpies?

“Dust, but that’s not what we need to chat about.”

Noah sighs like he knows he’s going to be getting a headache soon. “Unless someone’s dying or actively trying to kill you, we can wait until tonight,” he says as he turns to go and then pauses and glances back at his son as he pops his Adderall.

“No one is dying or trying to kill you, right?”

Stiles smirks as he pulls on his red hoodie. “Not this time, no.”

“Then we’ll talk tonight and I want real food, son. Something red if this,” he waves at Peter’s still sleeping form, “is going to be a regular thing.”

“Buffalo burgers it is, daddio,” he smirks, shooting his dad double finger guns as the Sheriff rolls his eyes.

Stiles draws the blanket higher over Peter’s shoulders and runs his hand over his head, scenting him, before he grabs his backpack and heads out into the hall to get ready for school. An hour later he’s shoving his books into his locker trying to ignore the world when his head snaps up and his eyes narrow. He can feel something pressing against him, not in a bad way, but in a proximity alert sort of way.

Oh, oh.

The Pack. Well damn, he actually felt them before he saw them, huh. Peter’s gonna be thrilled. Well, he would be thrilled Stiles’ magic-Alphaness was working, but Stiles was pretty sure he’d be less thrilled at the glowers Scott, Allison and Lydia were shooting him. He doesn't bother counting Jackson since he always looks like he sucked on a lemon. A few months ago, that would have hurt, but now, he didn’t really care.

What he did care about was Scott snarling at Isaac, Erica and Boyd to stay away from him. His eyes felt hot and he closed them to hide the amber glow he knew they were giving off. With them closed it was easier for him to focus internally. He reached for his pack bond with Peter, felt the sleepy contentment and peace the other felt and let it wash over him. In the back of his mind, he felt a tug and frowned, chasing it until he found a small, flickering ghostly tendril of light. His connection to Peter was strong. A braided silvery cord that reminded him of a bass guitar string. This felt like a frayed violin string, thin and vibrating sporadically. He mentally plucked it and heard someone gasp.

His eyes found Isaac’s in the crowded hallway. The taller boy’s baby-blues were wide and a little fearful. Stiles tilted his head so only Isaac could see him and let his eyes bleed Alpha-Spark amber and watched Isaac’s get even bigger. The Beta swallowed hard and Stiles mouthed ‘my house after school?’ at him. Isaac nodded slowly, they held eye-contact until the warning bell rang and Stiles headed off to his AP English class.

Lydia was there, but they ignored each other with ease. Ah, to be back in sophomore year and ignored by everyone. Joy. They had half their classes together, the benefits of being in almost all AP classes, but if that was how she wanted to play things, fine. Last year, it would have been impossible to ignore the Pack, but this year the only regular class he had was Physics and only Danny and Kira were in his class, which wouldn’t be a problem. They were both nice to everyone and wouldn’t ostracize him, so at least he'd have someone to talk to and he planned on hitting the library during lunch to get some work in on the bestiary. Speaking of which, he needed to remember to ask Peter if there were any books in the Hale vault that might be useful.

The thing with ADHD was that everyone just assumed he couldn’t be quiet. That was blatantly false. He could be quiet for incredibly long periods of time as long as he was focused on something else. Sure, he had a tendency to mumble to himself when he did that, but that’s what pen caps were for. Case in point, right at this moment he had his green highlighter’s cap in his mouth and was basically coloring the entirety of his copy of Macbeth. He snorted under his breath at the irony.

His notes were meticulous, chaotic and in his own shorthand that no one else could read, but meticulous none the less. He did the same thing in each of his classes throughout the rest of the day, alternating between green, yellow and pink highlighters. He only destroyed one blue pen, which was pretty good all things considered. Any time he started to feel annoyed at the Pack, like when he overheard Scott snapping at Isaac in the hallway, he reached out to find the pack bonds. Peter’s would vibrate back with either calm or snark, which was so weird and never failed to make him laugh out loud. Isaac’s came back with a tentative feeling of thanks. He tried building the connection up throughout the day, radiating concern, peace and warmth and was pleased that by the last bell it was less fragmented and wispy.

He didn’t wait around when the bell rang, he needed to go grocery shopping before Isaac came over and who knew if Peter would be joining them for dinner, but he wasn’t taking any chances. An hour later he felt it when Isaac slid through his bedroom window even before Peter said something.

“Come on down, pup, dad won’t be home for another hour or so.” He didn’t bother raising his voice, he knew Isaac had heard him.

Peter had, in fact, been home when Stiles got back. He’d been sitting on Stiles’ bed reading Percy Jackson of all things. It was weird and kind of nice. He hadn’t been surprised when Stiles had mentioned Isaac.

“McCall’s too volatile for someone like Isaac,” he’d explained.

“I’m volatile, Peter, Scott’s just a big puppy.”

“You’re a protector, sweetheart. You get violent to protect those you care about and you know instinctively just how far you can go with each of us. McCall gets violent because he can’t control himself and he has no idea what our triggers are.”

Stiles had thought about that all through his homework and putting the groceries away. It was true. Stiles first response wasn’t always violence, but he didn’t hesitate to finish shit if he knew there was no other way. He never wanted any of them to have to fight if they could avoid it and it gutted him whenever they got hurt, but if they couldn’t avoid a fight, he wanted it over as quickly as possible.

He knew he had more control than Scott, but he also wasn’t a were. He didn’t have that driving need to constantly prove himself, all he wanted was to keep his family safe.

“Come on in, Isaac. Peter won’t bite.”

Peter raised an eyebrow and went to open his mouth.

“Don’t,” Stiles warned and flicked a tiny spark at the older wolf making him jump and laugh.

“What the hell, Stiles?!” Isaac gasped, watching the interaction with something between awe and trepidation.

Stiles handed Peter the last carrot and knife to continue slicing for the salad and waved Isaac over to the kitchen table. He grabbed two cokes and a bottle of sparkling water from the refrigerator. He popped the top of the water and placed it on the counter for Peter and put the sodas on the table for him and Isaac.

“Okay, do you remember when Deaton told me I had a spark and could control mountain ash?”

“Uh, yeah, when Jackson was the kanima.”

“Right, so apparently I don’t have a spark, I am a Spark, with a capital S.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m magic and because I’m magic I had the potential to become an Alpha, or at least whatever the magic-user equivalent is.”

“And like, you just decided you were going to be an Alpha last night?”

“Yup.” He said, popping the 'p'.

Peter rolled his eyes, turning to regard the two young men. “After Scott’s little temper tantrum last night, I wanted to make sure Stiles was alright.”

“Why?”

Peter blinked and Stiles snorted. “Because as much as you people seem to think otherwise, I do actually have a heart. McCall was being an ass and my idiot nephew wasn’t stopping him, so I took it upon myself to check-in.”

Isaac frowned at that and looked to Stiles.

“Total truth,” Stiles said, leaning back enough to bump his shoulder against Peter’s hip, scenting and thanking all at the same time. “He’s still a total Creeperwolf, but less crazy and homicidal.”

He took a sip of his coke. “He’s a good Second.”

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, his hands coming down hard on Stiles’ shoulders. Stiles tilted his head back, exposing his throat to look up at the older man. His eyes flashed amber and Peter’s flashed electric blue in return. The pack bond thrummed with pleasure.

He held Peter’s gaze for another few seconds and then looked back to Isaac.

“I’m cool with being a small pack,” he said, taking another sip, “but the thing is, I really think Scott’s going to get some of you killed. He waits too long before dealing with problems or he rushes in before there’s a plan, not that he ever follows them, and he refuses to make the hard decisions.”

He watched Isaac wince slightly at his criticisms. He knew Scott better than anyone else, he was his bro, but he wasn’t blind to his faults. He was also self-aware enough to know that his own ‘strike first, strike hard’ mentality wasn’t always the best. He was grateful that Peter would be there to temper his more violent tendencies with his years of experience. Something Derek should have been doing, but that was a different issue.

“I’m not saying he couldn’t be a good Alpha. I’m just saying I don’t think he’s the right Alpha for me, or for some of you, but that's your decision to make.”

“What are you saying then?” Isaac asked, fingers pulling nervously on the hem of his shirt.

“I’m saying that if you ever want a different Alpha, I’m here. If you just need a friend and a safe place to chill, I’m here. If you need help with your homework or want to get your ass beat in Super Mario Kart, I’m here.” He smirked the last bit, laughing when Isaac rolled his eyes at him and slouched down in his seat.

“Now, daddio is gonna be home in thirty. You’re staying for burgers.”

Isaac didn’t even mind that the last bit wasn’t a question.

Noah took a long drink of his beer and grimaced. “I knew the boy was dumb, but what the hell is his problem?”

Stiles shrugged and took a bite of his burger. Peter had taken over grilling and chatted to his dad about his day while Stiles and Isaac had been setting the table, now they were sitting around while Stiles explained what had happened with the Pack.

“Where’s that leave you, kid?” Noah asked Isaac, making the boy jerk in his chair.

“Huh, what?” Isaac choked.

Noah gave him a reassuring smile. “You’re still part of Scott’s Pack, right?”

When Isaac nodded Noah continued. “You going to be okay there?”

“Um, I think so. I mean,” he glanced at Stiles who just smiled and sent a wave of warmth down the bond. “I, I don’t want to leave, not just yet. It’s not that I think Scott’s a better Alpha, but I can’t leave Erica and Boyd. After everything, we need each other.”

Stiles gave him a bright smile and the bond solidified a little more when Isaac blushed with pride. “I totally agree, Zac. You need to stick with Catwoman and Boyd, just remember the window’s always open if you need me.”

Noah shook his head in fond exasperation, “Or, you all could just use the door, like normal people.”

Stiles cackled, “Werewolves, daddio, not a normal one in the bunch!”

The group laughed as they finished their dinner.

Later that night Noah took Peter aside. “Give it to me straight, Hale, how bad could this get?”

Peter frowned, staring off into the dark backyard. “It depends on McCall. Stiles isn’t going to push him if he doesn’t have to. He still thinks the idiot can be saved, but if Scott does something to the Betas, or God forbid Derek, Stiles will burn this city to the ground.”

Noah sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “How powerful is he?”

Peter turned to him, “Very. With training, he’d be the most powerful magic user on the West Coast, maybe all of the US.”

“That’s going to draw attention.”

“If we’re not careful, yes.”

Noah bit out a curse, turning to head back inside, he paused on the threshold and held Peter’s eyes. “You keep him safe; you hear me? Or so help me, Hunters will be the least of your worries.”

Peter let his eyes glow blue. “He’s my Alpha. I’m his,” his voice cracked slightly, “Stiles made me his Second. He accepted me, even after everything I’ve done. He forgave me and brought me in and trusted me enough to be his Second. I will never betray him and if I do, I’ll hand you the bullets myself.”

Noah clasped his shoulder. “That’s good enough for me. See you in the morning, Peter.”

“Good night, Noah.”

-tbc-

Chapter Text

It’s a little over a week later that Isaac slips into Stiles’ room. His shirt is torn and there’s blood around his nose and the corner of his mouth. Stiles jumps up and grabs him by the arm, gently pulling him into the bathroom.

He presses him down onto the closed toilet seat and pulls out the industrial sized trauma kit, because they live on a Hellmouth and that is his freaking life.

Lips pursed, he cleans the Beta and checks for internal damage and broken bones while Peter retrieves a spare t-shirt from Stiles’ closet. At this point, Peter’s basically living in the Stilinski’s spare room. He has an apartment across town, but he doesn’t like being away from his Alpha when he doesn’t need to be.

Stiles, miraculously, doesn’t say anything until they’re done and sequestered back in his bedroom and the three are curled up on Stiles’ bed. It should be weird, but well, werewolves and he was always more tactile than normal humans, so whatever.

“Talk.”

“Feral Omega in the Preserve. Derek and I were running the boundary’s when it attacked. We managed to take it out, but when Derek called to tell Scott he yelled at us about killing it.”

“Jesus Christ on a pogo-stick.” Stiles hisses while rubbing soothing circles down Isaac’s back, “It was feral, there was no way of saving it. That’s literally what feral means.” He closed his eyes and reigned in his temper. Isaac didn’t need angry-Alpha right now, he needed cuddles and Pack Mom.

“You’re okay though? You and Derek were okay?”

Isaac paused and then nodded slowly while Stiles let out a harsh laugh, “How bad was the Sourwolf hurt?”

“Broken arm, some deep cuts to his chest. He jumped in front of me when it attacked. I patched him up before coming over.”

Stiles blew out a breath and reached for Peter’s pack bonds. Annoyance, frustration, hurt and fear radiated from him to his Second. Peter grimaced and sent back understanding and a feeling that he’d take care of it. They were getting better at communicating this way.

“Alright, pup, well, thank you for taking care of the big idiot. I’m glad you’re okay. Scott shouldn’t have yelled at you and I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

Stiles blinked confusedly, “Why would I be mad at you, Zac? You did what you needed to do to protect the town and your packmate. That’s all anyone should care about. You did good. I’m proud of you, Isaac. Now go to sleep. I’ll see about setting wards along the border tomorrow afterschool.”

“You can do that?” Isaac asked around a yawn.

“I guess we’re just going to have to find out, aren’t we?” he tucked Isaac’s head under his chin making the other boy giggle.

“Brat,” he whispered fondly, “sleep, Zac, just sleep.”

He rubbed Isaac’s back until the other fell asleep in his arms, then looked up at Peter over Isaac’s shoulder. His eyes were twin supernovas in the dark room.

“I’m gonna kill him, Peter,” he hissed.

Peter gingerly reached out to grip his Alpha’s shoulder. “Not yet, sweetheart, let’s deal with the wards first. Isaac wasn’t badly hurt…”

“Because of Derek! Because that idiot thinks he’s fucking expendable.”

Tiny sparks like fireflies danced around Stiles’ head as he seethed. Peter understood Derek was his mate and he’d been injured, but he still needed Stiles to calm down.

“I’ll talk to Derek, I promise, but you need to calm down before you wake the pup.”

Stiles took a shuddering breath and buried his face in Isaac’s curls.

“Talk to him, Peter. Explain what’s going on, but make him understand I’m running out of patience for this martyr bullshit. If he gets hurt again because of Scott, I’m not sure what I’ll do.”

Peter nodded solemnly; he knew exactly what Stiles would do and he knew McCall wouldn’t survive it intact.

Isaac slipped out an hour before Stiles’ alarm went off. He nuzzled into the side of the Alpha’s neck and gave him a small smile before climbing out the window. He’d need to shower and change before school or Scott would smell Stiles on him, but otherwise didn’t seem too worried. Scott always had been lazy about scenting them.

Peter fixed him breakfast and waited until he knew Stiles was gone before heading over to Derek’s loft. He simultaneously wanted to hug and throttle his nephew; his stubbornness would be the death of him at this rate.

“What do you want?” Derek growled as he closed the door.

Peter turned and gave him a long look. The arm had healed, though he still seemed to be favoring it slightly. Peter couldn’t smell any blood, so the cuts weren’t that deep. Good, Stiles wouldn’t kill him for getting injured then.

“I came to make sure you were alright.”

Derek blinked in confusion. “What?”

Sighing, Peter moved closer, making Derek back-up until his knees hit the edge of the couch and the man tumbled down onto it. Peter perched on the edge of the coffee table.

“Last night you ran into a feral omega and were hurt. I wanted to see how bad.”

“How did you know…”

“Isaac.”

“Isaac.”

“Yes, Isaac. Puppy-dog teenager with golden curls about yea high,” he snarked. “You bit him.”

Derek rolled his eyes so hard it had to have hurt. “I know who Isaac is, smart-ass, I meant why were you talking to Isaac?”

Peter leaned back on his hands. “He crawled into my Alpha’s bedroom last night bloody and hurting. We asked why.”

“Your…”

“Alpha.”

“You mean Scott.”

Peter’s snort was loud and indignant. “Hell no. I mean, Stiles.”

“Stiles isn’t an Alpha,” Derek growled, standing and stomping away from his lying uncle.

Peter stood slowly. His voice serious and his heartbeat steady. “Yes, Derek, he is. He’s a Spark. The night McCall kicked him out he used his magic to be an Alpha.”

Derek turned swiftly, claws out to swipe at Peter. The older Beta snarled and grabbed his nephew’s wrist.

“Damnit, Derek, listen to me for once! Stiles is an Alpha-Spark! He took me in as his Second and he knows he’s your mate! He was ready to kill McCall last night for letting the two of you get hurt.”

Derek froze at the mention of being mates. “He knows?”

Peter let go of his wrist and nodded. “He’s known since Mexico.”

“What, but?”

“Kate.” Peter grimaced. “He knows how you feel about consent and he didn’t want to make you feel like you had no say in this, but damnit, Derek, he thinks you don’t want him. That he’s not worthy and you and I know that’s not true.”

Derek felt sick. Stiles knew they were mates…how the hell could he think he wasn’t worthy? He was the best of them.

“I’m the one not worthy, I’m…”

“Broken,” Peter murmured softly. He shifted a few inches closer, just enough to put a tentative hand on Derek’s head. “We’re all broken, Derek. The fire broke all of us, but he’s been putting us back together. He put me back together. He’s putting Isaac back together and if you let him, he will do the same for you. Please, nephew, I know I’ve not been there for you for a long time, but let me be there now. You need him and he needs you.”

“I…”

“You need an Alpha who cares about you,” he pressed. “We all do. Stiles can be that Alpha. He’s strong, Derek, so damn strong and loyal and he loves you, truly loves you. McCall is going to get everyone killed at this rate and I can’t watch that happen. You and Cora are my only family. Stiles is Pack but he is also family. Tell me you don’t feel him?”

Derek shook his head grimacing. When Peter levelled a look at him he closed his eyes and whined, ducking his chin slightly. “He’s my anchor.”

“He’s your mate. I can feel it in the Pack bonds even if Stiles doesn’t understand what it is, because it’s not a single cord like mine, it’s his entire being. It’s already there, he accepted it a long time ago and it’s a part of him. Now, you just need to acknowledge it.”

Derek swallowed hard. “I’m not sure I’m strong enough.”

Peter gave a soft chuckle and ran his hand over his nephew’s hair, scenting him properly for the first time in years.

“You don’t need to be. He’s strong enough for all of us.”

Peter met him at the old Hale House at sunset. Stiles had texted saying he wanted to try something more centrally located than having to walk the whole damn perimeter of the Preserve and town. If it didn’t work, he’d fall back on Plan B and whine the entire time. Peter laughed when he read that. At least his Alpha was self-aware enough to know he’d bitch about having to walk the forty-some miles.

Stiles showed up with his backpack stuffed full of herbs and candles and a nasty looking knife Peter knew came from Chris Argent after the whole Gerard affair. “For protection,” the Hunter had said, pressing it into Stiles’ hands when he dropped the three teens off at Stiles’ house. “Against anyone who tries to hurt you again.”

Stiles had swallowed back the lump in his throat and nodded at him. Chris wasn’t a bad guy; he was just stuck in a shitty situation with no way out. Hell, compared to Allison, Stiles liked him better. At least Chris stuck to his damn code and was willing to admit his mistakes, unlike his Disney Princess-wannabe daughter, who Stiles was still not happy with. He wasn’t anti-Allison by any means and he felt horrible for almost killing her as Void, but still, he kept an eye on her when she was around the Betas. He wasn’t all together certain she wouldn’t shoot one of them just because she could.

Peter half expected Stiles to head towards the nemeton, but the teen turned and walked the exact opposite direction until they came to a small glade full of wildflowers. Peter could smell water and somehow wasn’t surprised when Stiles dug a small rock out of the soft loam and a bubble of water appeared.

“I found it a few weeks after Void,” he answered Peter’s unspoken question. “I needed a safe-place after everything. Dad and I weren’t talking, Allison was in the hospital, Ethan and Aidan had left town-not that I was terribly broken up about those two leaving- but no one would look me in the eye. I just needed quiet. When I found this place it was like for once, my brain just stopped. All the buzzing voices, all the memories, the nightmares…”

Stiles sighed as he kneeled and opened his bag, pulling out colored tealights and small bags of herbs.

“I think it’s because it’s on Hale land,” he finally said after several long minutes. “The nemeton is poisoned. I’m not there yet, but I know when I am and I cleanse it, I’ll need to claim it.”

“That means you’ll be bound to this land, Stiles.” Peter warned, worried about his young Alpha’s future. “You’ll never be able to leave for very long.”

Stiles nodded, “I know. No FBI for yours truly.” He gave a broken laugh, “not sure they’d even take me with my record.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at that. “What record?”

Stiles smirked as he lit the candles. Black for banishing evil and protection in the east, orange for justice in the south, yellow for clarity and the breaking of mental blocks in the west and white for peace and protection in the north.

“The one that will be wiped in six months when I turn eighteen. Here, sprinkle this salt in a circle around us and then come sit opposite me.”

Peter shook his head and did as he asked while Stiles tied up a large bundle of lavender, tansy and sage. Once Peter was seated he held the bundle up between them.

“Okay, so, you know how I’ve been reading all those books you brought me?”

“Of course.”

“And you know how they all kinda said the same thing? That Sparks can’t really be trained, we just are?”

Peter frowned, they’d had several debates about how to best deal with his Spark training, but the teen was right, all the books basically said the same thing- you can’t train a Spark only ignite it.

“So, I’m going to be very literal here and try it.”

“Try…you mean you’re just going to light it on fire?!”

“Pretty much. I’m going to envision a bubble over the town. One that will repel bad and attract good and basically try and not get us all killed.”

Peter sighed. “And you think this will really work?”

“We live on a Hellmouth with a tainted nemeton, Peter. At this point, I don’t think lighting a bunch of candles and herbs is gonna make shit worse, do you?”

Peter choked out a startled laugh. Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Okay, so what do you need from me?”

“Belief. You have to trust that I can do this, that all I want is to protect everyone. I’ll do the rest.”

“That, sweetheart, is the easiest thing you’ve ever asked me to do.”

Stiles’ smile was blinding when it came and the shimmer of the bubble was just as bright until it faded into the night.

"It's magic, bitch," Stiles mumbled against Peter's chest when the Beta caught him as he collapsed.

"It's a bubble, Stiles."

"Whatever, it worked, didn't it?"

"Yes, sweetheart, your bubble worked."

"Smart-ass."

Peter chuckled as he blew out the candles and carried his Alpha home. The sun just cresting the horizon when Noah opened the door for them, "He okay?"

"Magical depletion. He set a boundary over the town tonight." Peter couldn't have stopped his admiration from showing if he tried.

"I'll call him out of school tomorrow- 24 hour bug."

"I'll watch over him."

Noah smiled as Peter placed him gently under the covers. "I know you will, Peter. You're a good Beta."

Peter tripped over nothing, groaning when he heard Noah laughing from the hallway.

"You Stilinski men will be the death of me," he muttered fondly.

He toed off his own shoes and climbed in next to the sleeping teen. Smiling when Stiles wrapped an arm around his waist and cuddled him in closer. He closed his eyes and slept.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Erica pulled Isaac aside at lunch the next day. She checked for Scott and then whispered too low for humans to hear, “Why do you smell like Stiles?”

Isaac nibbled his bottom lip and then pulled her and Boyd even closer. “Look, you can’t tell the others, but after Stiles left the Pack, he used his magic to become an Alpha.”

“What?!”

“Shh! Erica, Jesus, be quiet.”

“What do you mean, he’s an Alpha? He’s human, he can’t be an Alpha.”

“Yeah, well, not so sure about the human thing. Peter said he’s like the most powerful magic user in California and because of the type of magic he can do, he could, I don’t know, make himself an Alpha. I swear, his eyes change colors and everything.”

“Wait, Peter? You’re talking to that psycho now?”

“He’s not all crazy anymore. Stiles called him his Second and Peter was…I think he finally realized he wasn’t alone. He was normal and not creepy and even the Sheriff seems to like him.”

“The Sheriff knows!?”

“Yes, okay, they all know and after Derek and I were attacked last night…I just needed Stiles. Scott was being an ass and…”

“You were attacked? Oh my God, Isaac, why didn’t you tell us anything, we would have come to you.”

“I know, I know, but it’s…you know how Stiles always kind of felt different to us?”

Erica nodded; it’d started even before Gerard for her, she knows it was Stiles who punched Greenberg for filming her during one of her seizers. “He feels safe, like…like home.”

Boyd nodded once. “He helps with our homework, stood up to Scott and Derek, cooked for us.”

“Yeah, I mean, most of the time he’s a total spaz, but I knew at once that if something was actually wrong he would try and help,” Erica mumbled.

“Exactly. When I was hurt, I could feel how mad he was but I wasn’t afraid at all. I felt protected. Like he’d hurt anything that came after me. I haven’t felt that way in a long time. Derek tries, don’t get me wrong, I know he cares for us, but he’s not…”

“Not Mom.”

Isaac glanced up at his friends and gave them a tentative smile. “Yeah. He’s like Mom and Dad all rolled into one.”

“An Alpha.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you…are you thinking of switching Packs?”

“I told him not yet. That I wouldn’t go without you.”

“What’d he say?”

“That I could come over anytime I needed and he’d kick my ass in Mario Kart.”

Erica cackled and Boyd snorted.

“He said I was always welcome, Pack or not.”

“Because in his mind, even if you’re not technically, you really are still Pack, aren’t you?”

Isaac sniffled a little. “Yeah, I think I am. I can, I can feel him, in here,” he said, pressing a hand against his chest. “I can even feel Peter a little, not as much as Stiles though.”

“Think he’d let us come over too?”

Isaac’s smile was wide and sure when he said, “Hell yeah, you’re Catwoman and Boyd!”

Derek stared at the remnants of his old home without really seeing it. Peter’s revelations yesterday had knocked him for a loop. Mates. Stiles was his mate and he knew it. Christ. What was his life?

The problem with all of this, of course, was him, not Stiles, not Peter or Scott. It was him. He was...broken inside. He knew it and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“I should leave.”

“Leave and I’ll kick your ass,” came a soft voice behind him.

Derek screwed his eyes shut and groaned. “Stiles…”

“Nope. Not happening, Big Guy. This here is an intervention.”

Derek turned to look at the teen, shocked when instead of the lanky, buzz-cut youth, he saw the self-assured Alpha-Spark with glowing amber eyes and the aura of restrained power around him. It hummed in the air, tingled on his tongue when he went to speak.

“Stiles…” this time his name came out as a low moan and Stiles seemed to understand, like he always did.

Stiles slowly walked up to Derek, a gentleness to his features he rarely showed. The two were of similar height, maybe an inch and a half difference, but Derek had about thirty pounds of pure werewolf muscle on Stiles. It didn’t matter. At that moment, the only thing that mattered was the soft caress of Stiles' fingers on Derek’s stubbled chin. In that instant, Stiles held all the power and yet, Derek knew he’d never abuse it.

Stiles understood. He got Derek better than anyone. Hell, Derek could never speak another word and the teen would still understand him just by his eyebrows alone. That had to mean something.

“It’s okay, you know,” Stiles whispered, stepping in close enough for Derek to feel the heat from his skin, but other than the fingers on his jaw, he didn’t touch him.

“I don’t…I can’t…”

“Hush. You don’t have to do anything, Der. I know you don’t feel that way about me, and I’m fine.” His heart skipped on the obvious lie. “I’ll live. I just want you to be happy. I need you to be happy, Derek.”

Derek shook his head violently, his hands reaching out to grasp Stiles’ biceps and pull him in tight against his chest. Stiles didn’t get it. For once Derek had all the answers, he just needed to get his mouth to work and explain this. Use your words, Sourwolf, he thought and wondered when his internal monologue started sounding like the teen?

“I do. Stiles, God. Stiles you’re my mate, of course I do!”

Stiles froze in the others’ arms; brain short-circuiting as he tried to process what Derek had said.

“You what?!” his voice cracked out a squeak and Derek huffed a small laugh against his collarbone.

“I said, I love you, idiot.”

“You like me…”

Derek rocked his forehead against Stiles and pulled back to stare into whiskey eyes. “Love. I said, I love you.”

Disbelief morphed into apprehension morphed into acceptance morphed into awe. When his eyes started glowing again, this time a soft, gooey honey amber, Derek felt his wolf rise with a happy, content purr.

“Can I kiss you?” The teen asked softly, fingers trailing up and down Derek’s jaw like feathers.

Derek swallowed and nodded hesitantly. He was more experienced than the teen, but very few of those experiences had been pleasant and none had ever been as tender or emotionally charged as this.

“I won’t hurt you, Derek.” Stiles breathed against his mouth. “I swear to God, I’d never hurt you.”

Derek whimpered and Stiles softly pressed their lips together. He didn’t do anything else, just let them rest against the older man's and breathe together. Derek slowly relaxed against him, leaning into Stiles as the Alpha pulled him closer, slotting their bodies together like they did it every day and Derek whimpered again.

“Shh,” Stiles murmured against his lips, fingers sliding up to card through Derek’s dark hair. “I’ve got you, Der.”

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles and clung, emotions he hadn’t felt since before the fire washing over him in a crash. He pulled back and buried his nose in Stiles’ throat, trembling in the teen’s hold.

“Let go, Derek,” he heard. “Let go, I swear I will always catch you. You're mine as much as I’m yours. I swear it.”

Derek sucked in a sharp breath as the bond ripped through him with the force of a wild fire. Hot, scorching in its intensity and yet cleansing. He licked Stiles’ neck and felt Stiles tilt his head back to give him more room. Derek’s wolf sprang forward, fangs dropping as he gently wrapped them around the pale offering. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to be felt.

“Mine,” he growled lowly. Softer, he whispered, “promise?”

Stiles let his eyes bleed amber. He felt the bond, knew it to be honest and true and all theirs. He’d been an idiot, thinking they didn’t have one or that it was only on his side. But while Isaac’s was a thin violin string and Peter’s a thicker bass guitar, his bond with Derek took up his entire being like a well-loved sweater you pulled on and forgot about. It was always just there; a part of him he hadn’t even noticed.

He pulled it tight around them and swore, “Always.”

The kiss this time was not as soft. It was as hot as the fire building in them, still slow, still tender, but it burned them to the core and from it they rose stronger.

Derek had no problem baring his throat to his mate, who growled around still human teeth, the blunt points of his canines just a shade sharper than normal. Derek loved it.

For the first time since Paige, he truly felt free.

Peter and Noah were waiting in the kitchen when they returned to the Stilinski residence.

The minute they walked through the door Peter was on him, scenting him, hugging him, running his hands over Derek in a way that he hadn’t since he was younger than Stiles. He looked at this Alpha, his mate, and smiled.

Both men stopped and stared at him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Stiles breathed, pulling him close and pressing a warm kiss against the side of his mouth.

Derek wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to complements, at least not sincere ones like Stiles gave, but he was willing to try. That had to be some major personal growth right there, right? He wasn’t sure if it was the bond settling, of being able to actually feel how much Stiles loved him, or what, but he felt more settled than he ever had.

“Son, I take it you and Derek finally figured your shit out?”

Derek tensed at the Sheriff’s voice. Stiles rested his hand along the back of Derek’s neck and squeezed soothingly and he felt himself go pliant against his mate.

“Yup,” Stiles said, popping the 'p' just to watch all three men roll their eyes at him. The tension broken, he offered the Sheriff a small nod and a handshake.

Noah snorted and dragged Derek into a bear hug, startling the other man.

“We hug in this house, son, and call me Noah.”

Another bond slid into place behind Derek’s ribs. Not as strong as the others, but there none-the-less.

“Well damn, daddio, I didn’t think you wanted to be Pack,” Stiles said a little breathlessly.

Derek looked over his shoulder, Stiles eyes were wide and glowing with warmth and glistened with unshed tears as he rubbed at his sternum.

Noah rolled his eyes and stepped away from Derek to give his son a hug.

“Like I could leave you boys on your own. You’re my son, Stiles, and Derek may as well be. Of course, I’m Pack.”

Stiles wasn’t the only one who cried.

Peter placed a comforting hand on Derek's shoulder. “He’s a good Alpha. A good man and he’ll make you an excellent mate.”

Derek smiled softly. It was still weird to think his uncle wasn’t dark-side anymore, but this man, the openness and pride he felt towards Stiles and the rest of them…that reminded him of the man he grew up with and he wanted that back. Damn it, he wanted his family whole again.

“He will. Thanks, Uncle Peter,” he whispered.

Peter bit off a surprised exclamation as he turned towards Derek.

“Do you mean that?”

Derek nodded slowly and Peter’s answering smile was as bright as the sun. He hugged his nephew in a bone-crushing embrace that he returned only when he felt a wave of pride and love swamp him from Stiles.

Holding his uncle tight, he caught his mates’ eyes across the room and let himself relax.

He was finally home.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

School was…interesting the rest of the week. Scott’s glower got even worse. He actually growled, out loud, at Stiles when they passed in the hallway. Stiles held his eye just long enough to make it really clear that he didn’t give a damn when he turned back to his locker.

Things didn’t improve. He was infinitely glad he’d had to quit lacrosse after the nogitsune. He might be an Alpha, but his bones were still human and he healed like a human and he knew if he’d been on the field Scott would have tried to break him.

Guess that answered the whole ‘could we still be friends’ question.

The only good thing was Isaac had started to talk to him at lunch. The first time he had sat down with him he thought Scott’s head would explode.

“Hey buddy, you sure you know which table you’re sitting at?”

Isaac shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. “Better air over here.”

Stiles snorted a laugh. “Damn straight. How’d your history paper go?”

Isaac had texted asking for some tips on his mid-term project a few days earlier. Stiles had sent him about 40 links and a long-winded email rant about the use of elephants in the Roman Army.

“Got a B+ and a note from Mrs. Shelly to tell you to quote ‘stop corrupting the good kids’ unquote.”

Stiles cackled out loud at that. He’d had the same teacher in freshman year and if Finstock thought he had it rough with Stiles' papers, that was nothing compared to what the actual English teacher got.

“Glad to hear it, pup!”

They fell into companionable silence for a few minutes until Isaac dropped his voice too low for Scott to hear over the lunchroom noise.

“You spoke to Derek?”

Stiles nodded, his smile soft and loving. “Yeah, we’re good, he’s come over to the dark-side with Uncle Creeper.”

“It’s more than that though, isn’t it?”

“We started the mating claim.”

Isaac sucked in a quick breath, his eyes gleaming and practically bouncing in his seat. “I knew it! What does that mean though, for the Pack?”

Stiles took a bite of his apple as he tried to think of the best way to explain it.

“Okay, so the first step for a claim is that you need to verbally say it, this is normally accompanied by a bite of some form.”

“He bit you!?”

“Shh! No, not like a real bite, more like a practice bite? Like, it didn’t break skin, just kind of held my throat in his teeth. I did the same to him.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah, totally hot, but that’s not the point. The point is that we trusted each other enough to do it, that starts the claim.”

“Then what?”

Stiles shrugged a bit; this part was a little hard to explain. “So, if we were both werewolves and I was legal, because you and I know it doesn’t matter to me, but it sure as hell matters to Derek and my dad,” he waved away the stupid rules of California consent law, “whatever, for now, we’ll, I don’t know, date? At least until I’m eighteen or until Derek feels safe to move things to the whole sexy-times level.”

Isaac’s nose scrunched up.

“You asked, pup.”

“It’s kind of like hearing about my mom and dad having sex, I don’t want to image it. Ick.”

Stiles snorted and leaned forward to ruffle Isaac’s curls. “Anyways, at some point during that he’ll need to bite me for real and I’ll probably have to do the same. Once that happens the claim is complete and we’ll really be your mom and dad, or dad and dad, whatever, I don’t gender-shame.”

“You mean that?” he asked softly, hope shining in his eyes.

“Dude, Derek like legit adopted you. You live with him. He’s your dad now, which I get is a little odd with how close you two are in age, but seriously, you’re his, which means you’re mine. Heh, I’m like a trophy wife. Cool.”

Isaac rolled his eyes at the other teen. “So, does that mean I can call you Mom?”

Stiles smirked. “Do you actually think that would bother me? Hell no, man, I’m totally Pack Mom. I’ve been Pack Mom to my dad for years, I rock that shit!”

Isaac laughed out loud, long, happy peels that caught the McCall Pack’s attention, but neither boy cared.

“Does that mean I can…can I switch Packs?”

Stiles gave him a serious look, his eyes bleeding amber as he leaned in close enough that only Isaac could see him. “Anytime, Zac, I already told you that.”

“Then I want to. I talked to Erica and Boyd and they don’t want to stay with Scott either. They want Mom back.”

“Then they should come over after school and meet the Pack.” He reached out his left hand, the furthest from Scott’s line of sight and cupped Isaac’s neck. The beta tipped his head to the side and let his eyes flash.

“You ready to be part of the Stilinski Pack, Beta Lahey?”

Isaac whined softly, “Yes, Alpha Stilinski.”

The bond pulsed in Isaac’s chest, a bright white-hot heat that burned away his connection to Scott and reformed into a stronger bond with Stiles, Derek, Peter and the Sheriff. He whimpered and leaned in even closer to Stiles.

“I got you, pup. Don’t worry, we’re going to be fine, I promise you.”

“What the hell, Isaac!” Scott snarled, eyes flashing right there in the cafeteria. Isaac whimpered and flinched away from the angry teen.

Stiles was up and across the table before either wolf noticed it. He didn’t flash his eyes, because, duh, they were at school, but he did use his magic to push Scott back several steps and put a shield up between them and his former best-friend.

“Back off, Scott,” he said, his tone low and diamond hard.

“Fuck off Stiles, I don’t answer to  you. You aren’t…”

“We’re at school,” he hissed savagely. “And Isaac doesn’t answer to you either. If you actually paid attention to your so-called friends you might still have them, now leave Isaac alone.”

The temperature was glacial cold as the two glared at each other. Scott dug his claws into his palms to keep from shifting, only managing to calm down enough for Allison and Lydia to drag him from the room. The Huntresses’ eyes were flinty hard and she had a sneer on her pursed lips that made him want to roll his eyes. The red-head’s eyes were more calculating, like she wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she’d find out.

Stiles didn’t care. He was tired of dealing with both girl’s prima-donna attitudes. He’d dealt with Lydia’s for almost a decade and while he still thought they’d make a killer research team; he was over trying to get her attention. He had a hot-as-hell werewolf mate at home and a growing Pack who actually wanted and cared about him, he didn’t need to turn himself into anyone else’s image of him. He was starting to learn who this new Stiles was and he liked him.

He liked that he didn’t need to be anything other than himself for once. He liked that he had a role to play and that he could finally do something tangible for the people he loved. He was tired of being the weak human side-kick. Don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t being an Alpha or power that he had been craving. It had been acceptance. It wasn’t until Isaac had asked him if he had to change Packs that Stiles realized that it didn’t matter. He knew who his friends were. He was starting to learn who he was and accepting that, accepting that he couldn’t change the past, that he was enough just as he was, that acceptance was worth more than anything else.

Self-love and all that shit.

Stiles stared after Scott until the others all filed out. He tipped his chin at Erica and Boyd, the last to leave, and gave them a small smile. The two seemed to visibly relax and Erica mimed that she’d call him later. Stiles took that as they’d crawl through his window at some point tonight and was fine with it. For now, he had a scared pup to deal with and a set of irate Pack bonds vibrating in his chest.

He sent a wave of reassurance down the bonds and dug his phone out of his pocket. He hit #1 on his speed-dial without looking. While he waited for Derek to pick up he pulled Isaac against him and tucked the boy’s head under his chin, rubbing soothing circles into his back and giving a low rumble of sound similar to the wolves.

“What happened?”

Derek’s voice helped center Stiles’ emotions. He blew out a breath noisily. “Zac switched sides and Scott almost lost it right in the middle of the cafeteria.”

“I’m coming to get you both.”

Stiles gave a wheezing laugh. “No need, but we appreciate it. Isaac’s going to come by after school. Wouldn’t be surprised if Catwoman and Boyd show up too. Do you think you or Peter could grab enough groceries for all of us? Dad’s working a double tonight, so we can do a proper Pack bonding puppy pile.”

Isaac whined happily and rubbed his face against Stiles’ shirt.

“It’s not called a puppy pile, Stiles,” Derek sighed out, letting some of the tension fade from his voice at his mate’s obvious attempt at distraction.

Stiles laughed brightly, “Dude, I’m fucking Pack Mom, I’m totally calling it a puppy pile!”

Derek choked on his tongue. “Pack Mom?!”

“Yup! That’s what the Wonder Pups call me and let’s be real, I’m way more Pack Mom than Alpha any day of the week.”

There was silence on the other side of the phone for a long moment before Derek softly answered, “You’ll always be my Alpha, Stiles. I’ll see you both at home after school.”

Then the asshole hung up.

“He…that…God damnit, Derek! You can’t just say shit like that to me and then hang up you asshole!” Stiles raged at the phone, his face bright red in embarrassment.

Beside him Isaac giggled and it was the sweetest thing Stiles had ever heard. Well, second sweetest. Derek telling him he loved him would always be his number one, but it was a damn close second.

Isaac was waiting for Stiles at his locker at the end of the day. He purred and rubbed his cheek against his Alpha, pleased when Stiles laughed and tugged him down for a proper hug and scenting. Both boys had long since given up trying to be discrete at school.

“Come on, pup, let’s get home and see what Derek’s got planned for dinner.”

“Will you help me with my Algebra 2 homework?”

“Sure, we can set up in the living room.”

“Thanks, Alpha.” He gave Stiles a shy smile, ducking his head when Stiles swatted at him playfully as they piled into the jeep.

Derek was just pulling in when the boys got home.

Isaac jumped out and went to help grab the bags, nocking his chin against Derek’s in greeting. “Hi, Dad,” he murmured softly.

Derek froze, one hand on Isaac’s head and the other clutching the edge of the doorframe. Stiles walked over with a gentle smile and pressed a kiss to his cheek before ruffling Isaac’s curls and grabbing the closest bag.

“I might have mentioned how you adopting him meant you were his dad now.”

Derek blinked at his mate. How did he never think of that? He’d taken Isaac in when his dad was killed, sure, and afterwards Melissa and Noah had helped him fill out the paperwork to make it legal so they didn’t need to worry about Child Protective Services getting involved, but he’d never imagined Isaac ever calling him dad.

“Dad? Um…Derek, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…Umf!”

Isaac didn’t get a chance to finish, Derek grabbed the teen and pulled him in for a crushing hug. “Of course, I’m your dad, Zac! I’m…I’ll be your dad for however long you want me, pup.”

Derek’s eyes were wet with emotion, the Pack bonds thrumming even louder, filling Stiles’ head with a pleasant buzz and a feeling of rightness. He slid a hand over Derek’s hair and neck as he passed them, letting the two hug it out, knowing his mate would find him when he was ready and they’d have their own private cry about being parents later.

He tilted his head, finger tapping his chin and wondered what a legal name change entailed? Maybe he should wait until he brought up the subject of marriage with Derek. If the wolf even wanted that. He knew where he saw this relationship going, but wasn’t sure the Sourwolf was ready to hear about his ten-year plan just yet. Oh well, he had time, they hadn’t even finalized the mate claim. He’d spring the idea of a human marriage after he got the werewolf version done.

He cackled to himself as he put the groceries away. The Big Bad Wolf really had no idea what he was in for.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Boyd and Erica popped up half-way through dinner. Erica bounded straight down the stairs and hurled herself at Stiles. Honestly, it was a good thing he was seated between Peter and Derek or he would have ended up face down in the mashed potatoes.

“Hi Catwoman,” He mumbled around a mouthful of blond curls.

“Hey ya, Batman. I hear you got yourself some nifty new eyes.”

Stiles flashed his eyes at her, a wry smile tugging on his lips as she gasped and then cackled.

“Oh my God, those are awesome!”

Stiles patted her arm as she hung around his neck. “Glad you think so. Grab a seat pups, we saved you dinner.”

Erica pressed a wet kiss to his cheek and slid into the seat next to Isaac, who immediately nuzzled her chin. Boyd clasped his shoulder in greeting.

“Hey, Stiles.”

“Boyd. Glad you could make it man.”

The large beta gave him a small smile and chin lift, his fingers trailing over Derek’s shoulder and Isaac’s curls as he settled next to Erica.

“We’re going to need a bigger table at this rate,” Noah said, handing over the plates of food they’d saved.

Peter pushed his plate away and leaned forward, chin resting on steepled hands. “I was thinking about that. You all still have a year of high school and while we all appreciate your hospitality, Noah, the Pack really needs someplace bigger.”

“You’re thinking of a Pack House, aren’t you?” Stiles asked.

Peter nodded, eyes flicking to Derek who was frowning at his broccoli. He would have said something, but Stiles had already wrapped a soothing hand around his neck.

“The loft…”

“No,” Stiles cut it, staring at Derek until his mate looked up at him. “I never really liked the idea of using the loft as the Pack House.”

“Then why did you push me to get it?” Derek asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Because, love, you and Isaac were sleeping on the floor in an abandoned train depot. There were rats, Derek. Big, nasty, disease carrying rats. That wasn’t healthy for you or Isaac, let alone us measly humans. I wanted you to be someplace safe. A den of your own where you could take a minute and just breathe without the constant threats and danger. I didn’t mean for it to become Grand Central Station for the newly bitten.”

“Oh.” Derek gave him a small smile, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his temple. “Thanks.”

Erica cooed while Isaac fake gagged around a smile and Boyd raised an eyebrow at the PDA.

“Anyways,” Peter continued, “I was thinking we could rebuild the Hale House.”

Derek’s face went ashen and Stiles could feel his panic rising. He pulled Derek out of his seat as he stood. “Let’s take this into the living room.”

He tugged until Derek was pressed into the corner of the couch and settled into his lap. Derek’s arms went around him automatically, two steel bands Stiles knew he’d never break out of, not that he wanted to. The wolf buried his nose in Stiles’ neck and breathed deeply, trying to still his beating heart.

“It’s okay, Derek,” Stiles murmured into his hair. “It’ll be okay, just breathe.”

Derek nodded minutely, but didn’t raise his head.

“I get what you’re trying to say, Peter,” Stiles said once they’d all settled. “But I think the best thing for both of you, would be to just tear the place down. There’re too many bad memories for it to be healthy.”

Peter grimaced. “I’m not…I’m not against the idea, but it’s a good spot for a Pack House. The Preserve gives us the space we need.”

Stiles and Noah shared a look. They knew all about ghosts and hurt. It was Noah that came up with the idea.

“I get the need for a Pack House in the Preserve, but what about somewhere else? Don’t you guys own most of it? Why not just build a new place somewhere safer?”

Stiles sat up, fist pounding into his free palm. “The Glade!”

Everyone but Peter frowned. “The what?”

Peter gave Stiles a dawning smile. “Is there somewhere close by that would work? We’d need to run utilities and everything else and I’d hate to destroy it.”

Stiles grinned, “Yeah, about ten minutes away there’s a pretty flat piece of ground. You can get to it from the east side of the Preserve off the freeway. Makes the drive into town a little longer, but still doable.”

Peter hummed as he thought about the logistics. “We’ll have to check it against the property lines, but that sounds like it would work.”

“What about costs?” Noah asked. “I know an Alpha is supposed to provide and all, but Stiles is still in high school and we’re not exactly rolling in it.”

Peter waved away the concern. “Don’t worry about that, Noah. The Hales weren’t hurting before the fire and I know Derek and Laura didn’t use the insurance money for anything beyond necessities. I’ve been reviewing our holdings and we can afford to build a new place and then some.”

He looked to Stiles. “We’ll need to sit down and discuss the Pack funds at some point, sweetheart.”

Stiles cocked his head, “Pack funds?”

“Of course. The Pack always takes care of school and business expenses.”

Stiles’ eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “What exactly are we talking about here, Peter?”

Peter settled back into one of the chairs. “The Alpha pair – that would be you two, by the way -  are traditionally responsible for maintaining the Pack House and any pups while the parents are working. School expenses are paid for by the Pack with the idea that members will come back to work in the territory and contribute to the Pack funds. If a member wants to start a business, they will work with the Alphas to figure out the viability of the business and the Pack will help fund the first year or so.”

“In addition to the defending territory and other stuff, I’m assuming.” Stiles said.

“Exactly.”

“Huh, okay, so, let’s say I wanted to go out of the area for college, could I?”

Derek squeezed him tighter, a low growl reverberating in his chest.

“Easy, Big Guy, this is all just theoretical right now.”

Derek growled again, but eased up his hold.

“Theoretically, yes. We’d need to know which school and it would be your job as Alpha to make a treaty with the local Pack to allow yourself or your betas to stay in their territory, but yes, you could go away for college.”

“Interesting. How do Pack businesses work? You said they pay into the Pack fund?”

“Typically, once a pack member has started working and is able to support themselves, they pay a small percentage into the Pack Fund. Anyone can request assistance if something happens and all educational expenses are paid from the account.”

“What about housing? Do people usually live together in the Pack House?”

“That depends. Since we’re so small, it makes more sense for us to live together. We’d have a better chance of defending ourselves and forming a tighter bond. Young families normally always stay at the house for safety and because the Alpha pair watches the pups during the day. Werewolf pups have a hard time not growling or flashing their eyes until they’re older, which is why we normally homeschool until they’re ten or eleven, sometimes older.”

“I didn’t go to school until high school,” Derek said. He’d pulled his nose out of Stiles’ neck and was just resting his chin on his shoulder.

Peter gave him a soft smile. “You were such an introverted little pup and then you turned thirteen and we all thought Talia was going to strangle you.”

The betas laughed. Stiles poked him in the side, “What happened at thirteen?”

Derek blushed, “Girls…and sports. I really liked baseball.”

“Ah, that’s right. I remember you saying you were on the team in high school.”

“He was good too. Star athlete in both basketball and baseball. Could have gone pro in baseball. He was a hell of a short-stop.”

Derek preened under Peter’s praise and the rush of pride he felt from Stiles along their bond. It was nice, talking about the past without the heartache of the fire. It still hurt of course, but they were skirting the topic enough he could focus on only the good memories.

“You played baseball and yet you give me shit about carrying a bat?” Stiles teased.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Because you get injured getting out of bed, fighting with a bat is just asking for problems.”

Erica laughed loudly. “He’s right, Batman. I love you, but I’ve seen you trip over air, just leave the fighting to us wolves.”

Stiles’ eyes flashed, a growl working its way out of his chest. “No,” he said, voice hard.

The room went silent.

Erica blinked. “Wait, what?”

Stiles was up and out of Derek’s lap before anyone registered what was happening. He stood in front of Erica and Boyd and growled lowly.

“You don’t fight alone. Not ever. Do you understand me, Erica? I won’t risk any of you. We fight together or we don’t fight. If you’re alone and something happens, you run the fuck away.”

“Language,” his dad said.

Stiles ignored him as he surveyed his Pack.

“That goes for all of you. I understand we might not always have the option, but if you are alone – run. Don’t fight. No one is sacrificing themselves; do you understand me? You run, call for assistance and we will take care of it as a Pack. I’m not losing any of you. We are PACK – family and I’m tired of burying family.”

Derek stood and pulled Stiles into his arms. “I won’t lose any of you,” he whispered, clutching at Derek’s back.

“Does that mean…” Erica cleared her throat and stood. “Does that mean we’re Pack, Stiles?”

Stiles took a steading breath and turned to smirk at her a little. “You think you can handle that, Catwoman?”

“Yes!” she shouted, bouncing up and down on her feet. “Yes, I can totally handle being in your Pack!”

He stepped out of Derek’s embrace and wrapped his hand around her throat, smiling brighter when she tipped her head back in submission.

“Beta Reyes, are you willing to protect this Pack and your packmates with your life? To be a sister and friend to all present and to any future pack members? To accept me as your Alpha and Derek as Alpha’s mate?”

Erica’s eyes flashed golden as she swore, “Yes, Alpha.”

The bond tore through her, bright and fast, burning away the horrors of the past and leaving her feeling cleansed and warm. She slumped against Stiles, whimpering, a fine tremor running through her body.

Stiles pressed a kiss against her temple and held her for a few more moments while he watched Boyd stand and come closer. “You gonna join the party, Boyd, my man?”

Body smiled. “Can’t leave my girl.”

Stiles snorted and passed Erica to Derek. Isaac wrapped his arms around both and Peter and Noah stood and stepped in close enough to touch as well.

Stiles wrapped his hand around Boyd’s throat. “Do you, Vernon Boyd, accept the responsibility that comes with being part of this Pack? Will you support and defend it against all that would hurt your packmates?”

“Yes.”

“Do you accept myself as your Alpha and Derek as my mate?”

“I do.”

The bond didn’t burn like Erica’s, but flowed through Boyd in a way that illuminated all the dark spots and left him feeling full and at peace, like the warmest of blankets had been drawn up around him and tucked in to protect him. His smile was open and unguarded when he opened his eyes and looked to his Alpha and his Pack.

“Awesome,” Stiles breathed, his eyes two burning embers in his face. “Come here man,” the teen said as he dragged Boyd down into a fierce hug. “Welcome to the Pack.”

“Thanks, Sti…Alpha.”

The smile he got was blinding.

“Okay, we’re definitely doing a puppy pile for the rest of the night. Call who you need to, but you’re all staying here tonight. The Wonder Pups each get to pick a movie. Peter, can you and Derek drag the mattresses down while the rest of us move the furniture out of the way? Dad, are you gonna crash here tonight?”

Noah shook his head, “Sorry kiddo, got an early shift tomorrow, but you kids enjoy.”

“Okay, night, daddio. Thank goodness tomorrow’s Saturday. We can totally sleep in and veg.”

Peter snorted, “You would have done that anyways, Red.”

Stiles, being a mature Alpha, stuck his tongue out at his Second.

Derek just shook his head, running a hand over the two new betas and went to grab Stiles’ mattress.

It was late, or very, very early, when Derek and Stiles finally got a chance to sit and talk about everything that had happened.

Stiles stood next to Derek’s prone form on the back porch until the were tugged him down into the v of his legs. Stiles’ back pressed against Derek’s chest.

“Eventful day.”

Derek snorted inelegantly. “You could say that.”

“You doing okay with all this? I know it’s a lot.”

“I trust you. I knew you’d bring Isaac, Erica and Boyd into the Pack. I bit them, I’m fine with them being here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I…I wasn’t good at being an Alpha. I never wanted it, but I think I could do this, be an Alpha’s mate. Your mate. I think I could be good at that.”

Stiles tilted his head back to mouth at Derek’s chin. “You already are.”

They sat like that in silence for a long while. “When Peter told me I had the potential to be an Alpha, I tried to not think about you. What it would mean for us, but I couldn’t. I wanted you in the Pack from the beginning, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted me like that. You never said anything when Scott was being a jackass and I thought…” he shrugged and stared out into the darkness. “I wasn’t sure what I thought, to be honest.”

Derek whines softly. “God, I’m sorry, Stiles. I hated every time he said something and I told him off several times after every one left, but he just kept getting worse and as a beta I couldn’t go against him. I wanted to; I swear I just…”

“Shh…” Stiles said, rubbing his hands up and down Derek’s arms. “I get it, Der. I do. I know you couldn’t have gone against him.”

"I still should have said something. To you at least. You deserved to know that I didn't agree with him." He was quite for a few seconds. "I wanted you as my Alpha.”

“What?”

“When you left that night, I thought how much better things would be if you were the Alpha.”

“And now I am.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay with everything? Building a new Pack House, all the responsibilities of being an Alpha’s Mate?”

Derek shrugged, “I don’t have a problem with helping you manage the house. I always helped my dad when I was younger and I’d started my accounting degree in New York. I could go back and finish it; help Uncle Peter with the finances.”

“Wait, you were going to be an accountant?”

Derek huffed, “Actuary. I was going to do my BA in accounting and finance and then an MBA.”

“Wow, I totally didn’t see that coming. How far did you get?”

“The first two years. It took a while for Laura and I to feel safe enough for me to finish high school. I couldn’t handle being around that many humans for a long time, so I ended up getting my GED online and then took part-time classes at the local community college.”

Stiles hummed non-committedly. Derek had been away for six years and while Stiles knew he’d finished high school, he hadn’t really thought about the logistics behind it.

“Makes sense. You thinking about going back now?”

“Beacon Hills Community College has the courses I need for the BA. I’ve checked online a few times since coming back. Not sure about the MBA.”

Stiles waved that away. “Dude, you can do that online if you want. I’ve seen tones of ads on college websites.”

“Don’t call me dude,” he shot back, but there wasn’t any heat to his words. “What about you? Weren’t you planning to go to Quantico?”

Stiles snorted at him. “Yeah, well, as I told Peter, not sure they’d take me with my record, I mean, sure it’ll get wiped when I turn eighteen, but still, priorities change, man.”

“Stiles…”

“No, it’s okay, Der. I know the Alpha doesn’t normally work outside the Pack, but I was thinking I might do something with my magic instead. I mean, I had always figured I’d work with my dad on the Force, but I’m thinking I can still do that as a consultant. I really like working with herbs and plants and I found this YouTube channel that teaches you all about herbalism and apothecary stuff. That seems like a smarter way for me to support the Pack and help my dad than getting shot as a Fed or a cop.”

“You’d give up your dream for us?”

“The cool part about being me is I don’t need to give up anything,” he grinned up at Derek. “I can do a double major in forensics and botany. Maybe minor in mythology or religion or something. You could help me set-up an online business where we could help other supernaturals and I can sell herbs and potions and stuff. I can have my cake and eat it too; it’ll just take some work. But even if none of that works out and I end up joining the police academy instead, it won’t matter, Derek. As long as I have you and our Pack, our family, then I’m a-okay with whatever happens. You all are worth it.”

“I…” Derek swallowed the lump in his throat before tightening his arms around Stiles. “I love you,” he breathed against the teens’ mouth.

“Love you too, Big Guy, always.”

Peter brushed tears from his eyes and slipped back into the living room, curling up with the other Betas. Isaac sniffled softly and Erica and Boyd’s eyes were suspiciously wet. Peter pulled them in closer. He understood the sentiment.

Their Alpha was the best.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of architectural designs, calls to city hall for planning permission, a new physical training program designed by Noah, Peter and Stiles, and way too many excel sheets.

“Okay, you’re done, Stiles. Go take a break.”

“Wait, what?” Stiles blinked up at Derek owlishly. He’d been staring at the same financial report for the last forty minutes and was about to cry.

“You don’t need to do everything, Red.” Derek said, gently closing the laptop and pulling Stiles over to his bed.

“Peter needs these estimates for the construction company, Der, I can’t just…”

“I’ll deal with the estimates, you need sleep.”

“But…”

“Stiles, you’re not sleeping.”

Well, yeah, but that wasn’t anything new. Since Void, if Stiles got more than four hours a night he considered it a win. Sure, the last few days he’d woken up in cold sweats being chased by excel sheets instead of oni, but they were just as terrifying.

Derek led him over to the bed, stripped him of his sleep pants and shirt and prodded him under the sheets. If Stiles was a weaker man he’d have made a comment on it, but other than cuddling and some decent make-out-sessions, they hadn’t done anything and that was okay. They were in a good spot right now, he could wait for sex, he’d been waiting years since he figured out what his dick was for, another few months weren’t going to kill him.

“’m not tired,” he mumbled sleepily, then ruined it by yawning in Derek’s face.

Derek chuckled at his mate, curling around him. “Get the light?”

Stiles waved a hand and the light flicked off. When he wasn’t at school or dealing with Pack business, he was pouring over every magic book Derek or Peter could bring him. It was frustrating in a lot of ways, he’d read a book, writing notes in his own version of a grimoire and then fumble around trying to create spells or potions that worked with his Spark.

It didn’t always go according to plan. Erica was still pissed at him for singeing her eyebrows last week when he was trying out a fireball spell. Isaac had about pissed himself laughing at her look of absolute fury as she chased Stiles around the backyard threatening bodily harm.

They were slowly getting there though. Boyd had shown interest in the architectural drawings Derek, Peter and Stiles had been working on, he thought it might be something he'd want to do in college and had even talked to the architect about interning during the summer. They had chosen a modern house plan and modified it to suit their needs and a separate plan for a basement that they had already decided they’d modify themselves after the fact so no one would be able to hurt them again. Both companies were run by shifters, which made them feel a hell of a lot better and hey, who knew bear shifters were even a thing? That had been an eye-opening Sunday afternoon for Stiles.

Apparently grizzlies were on average seven foot tall and polars got even taller. The first time Stiles had met Sam Taylor, a polar shifter and the lead architect for the house, he’d almost shit himself. Dude was eight and a half feet tall with dirty white hair and the darkest brown-black eyes he’d ever seen. It was freaky, but the man was a genius architect. He’d even suggested using a combination of river stones and reclaimed hardwood on the facing to make it blend into the Preserve more. They had rooms for everyone and then some, plus an office for Derek and a library/magical workshop for Stiles. It was going to be awesome.

They’d finally agreed to the last of the changes after dinner and Peter would show them to Sam in the morning. If everything went according to plan, Sam said it would take around seven months to build, but only because he employed shifters who could lift more and work longer than humans, otherwise it probably would have taken closer to ten. Stiles hadn't said anything, but he was planning to go in once the studs were in and burn protection runes into the walls of the house before they put up the drywall. He wasn’t taking any chances. When he was done the place would be able to withstand World War Three and yeah, it looked a bit like a fortress from the front, but it was all open windows in the back. Still, he was paranoid enough that he'd pulled Peter aside and asked him to look into bullet proof glass, just in case. He wasn’t sure how much that would run, but if they could at least put it in the main windows downstairs, he’d feel a hell of a lot better. Peter’s face did a weird sort of emotional dance when he asked, but the older man had said he’d look into it.

“You’re thinking again.”

Stiles yawned and buried his nose in Derek’s throat. “I’m always thinking.”

“Well right now you need to be sleeping, not thinking.”

“I know.  I just can’t seem to turn it off.”

Derek leaned down and caught Stiles’ lower lip with his teeth, making the teen gasp and arch against him. He smirked and did it again, making Stiles groan and rock his hips up.

“Der, don’t tease,” Stiles whined.

“You need to sleep.”

“Well teasing me ain’t gonna accomplish that, Big Guy.”

“Who said anything about teasing?” Derek murmured, sliding one hand up into Stiles’ hair to cup the back of his skull while the other slid down to squeeze his ass.

“Der!” Stiles gasped into a kiss that was both hot and languid and seemed to last forever. When they finally came up for air Stiles’ pupils were blown wide and Derek was panting against his lips.

Derek slid a finger under the waistband of Stiles’ boxers, but Stiles stopped him.

“Stiles?”

“We don’t have to. I’m good with what we do now, Der, you don’t have to push yourself.”

Derek frowned slightly. “I’m not pushing myself, Sti.”

Stiles cocked an eyebrow and Derek flushed slightly, the tips of his ears pinking.

“Okay, maybe I’m not ready for sex, but I can get you off…help you sleep better.”

Stiles gave him a dopey smile. “You help me sleep just by being here, Der.” Stiles wrapped long fingers around Derek’s wrist and brought it up to splay flat against Stiles’ chest.

“Let’s just sleep, okay? We can talk about the other stuff later. Come on, you can be my werewolf teddy bear tonight.”

“I’ve been that for two-weeks now, Stiles,” Derek grumbled, but slipped in closer, his left leg trapping Stiles’ with the teen’s head pillowed on his chest and Derek’s arms wrapped tightly around him.

“I know and it’s been awesome!” Stiles breathed against his nipple causing Derek to give a full body shudder.

“I’m sorry,” he said sometime later, once their heart rates and breathing had evened out.

He hated that he couldn’t seem to give his mate what he needed. It wasn’t like he’d never had sex before, but somehow the idea of sex with Stiles both thrilled and terrified him. He didn’t even think it was Stiles’ age that was messing with him, although knowing Noah had wolfsbane bullets did put a bit of a damper on things. And it wasn’t the Alpha/Beta dynamic. That had never entered his head. No, if Derek had to pin-point his biggest hang up, it was because he was scared. Scared something or someone would come around and destroy his new family. That Stiles would get hurt because of Derek.

He knew Stiles was strong. Peter had told him about the magic bubble he’d created and he’d seen Stiles destroy and then regrow the huge oak tree in his backyard. He was able to hold his own against Isaac in sparing practice and even managed to put Erica on her back once. So he knew his mate was strong, but years of abuse and fear didn’t disappear overnight.

Watching Stiles these past weeks work so hard for him and the pack had cracked something inside of him. He needed to get help. It’d taken a half-dozen tries, but he’d finally put in a call to an old friend of his mothers who was a counsellor and set up an appointment for a video call for next week.

It scared the shit out of him, but he was determined to be the mate Stiles deserved. He hadn’t said anything and he wasn’t sure he would, not until he knew he’d be able to stick with it. Either way he knew Stiles would be proud of him and that helped almost as much as actually making the appointment.

“Now who’s thinking too much?” Stiles mumble-yawned. He pressed a soft kiss to Derek’s chest. “We’ll get there, Big Bad, and it will be sweeter because of it, you’ll see.”

Derek just kissed his hair and held him tighter.

School was not good.

Stiles had managed to keep the worst of it from Derek and Peter, but the Betas refused to leave his side between classes after Scott had tried to corner him in the locker room after gym one day.

Isaac had held on to him tightly while Boyd threw Scott against the lockers, pinning him there and snarling into his face. “Do not touch him!”

“Get off me! I know what you’re doing, Stiles! You think you’re going to get away with it!?”

Stiles stood tall; hand wrapped around the three gashes in his bicep where Scott had grabbed him.

“And what do you think I’m doing, Scott? Huh? Do you even see yourself? You’re losing it man. Any more and you’ll be an omega.”

“This is all your fault! I know you’re just trying to steal my Alpha spark and give it to Derek. Well, I’m not going to give it to you!”

Stiles blinked confused, “What the hell are you talking about? Derek doesn’t want to be an Alpha. He never did, you know this.”

“Then why are you taking my betas! They’re mine, you can’t just steal them from me!”

“Wow. Okay, first, the betas aren’t anyone’s property, Scott. They can choose their own Alpha. You can’t make them stay with you just like I can’t steal them away. You need to get your shit together man. In the meantime, don’t mess with Erica, Boyd or Isaac. Deal with your own Pack before fucking around with mine.”

“You don’t have a Pack, Stiles. You can’t, you’re just human," he sneered. "Just a weak, pathetic murder.”

Boyd slammed him against the lockers hard enough to stun him for that comment and Isaac snarled at him, gold eyes flashing.

“Damn, Scott, tell me how you really feel.” Stiles said quietly, eyes darkened with hurt.

“You don’t know shit, McCall,” Boyd growled. “You stay away from my Alpha and my Pack or I will gut you.”

“That’s enough, Boyd. Don’t waste your breath, he’s never going to get it.” Stiles shook his head sadly and turned his back on his ex-best-friend. “Just stay away from us, Scott.”

Isaac picked up his bag from the floor, ushering his Alpha out of the room while Boyd brought up the rear. Erica grabbed ahold of him the minute they stepped into the hallway. She’d been happily scaring the crap out of anyone trying to go inside.

“What the fuck, Batman!” She snarled when the smell of Stiles’ blood hit her nose and pulled them all into the closest empty classroom.

“I’m okay, Catwoman, Boyd and Isaac protected me.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“Yup. Gonna need you to play nurse before class starts.”

“Derek’s going rip McCall's head off for this.”

“Derek’s not going to know because no one is going to tell him.”

The three betas snorted in unison, which was both impressive and scary.

Stiles’ phone chimed once. Then again. Then Isaac’s phone chimed followed by Erica’s and Boyd’s.

Isaac gave him a vindictive little smirk as he pulled it out. “Oh look, it’s Derek who, and I quote says, ‘What the hell happened? Where’s Stiles and why isn’t he answering?!’”

Stiles scrunched up his face and pulled his own phone out.

“I’m fine, Sourwolf,” he said as soon as Derek answered.

“What happened?!”

“Stop pacing and calm down.”

“Stiles.”

“I’m fine. The pups protected me.”

Derek’s growl could be heard easily through the phone.

Stiles sighed, knowing he couldn’t get away without explaining what happened. He glanced at the time and grimaced.

“Okay, look, I’ve got like 3 minutes before the bell rings. Cliff-notes version is Scott cornered me in the locker room saying I’d stolen his betas. As if, they aren’t his fucking property, I don’t know where he gets these stupid ideas I swear he’s…”

“Stiles!”

Erica snickered while pulling out gauze and tape. Stiles flicked her off. “Right, so Scott’s losing his shit. I think the only wolves he still has are Jackass and Liam. I’m not sure, but he’s seriously unravelling. Boyd slammed him into the lockers a few times and Isaac stood between us and is going to help Erica wrap up my arm, so no worries.”

“That asshole cut you?!” Derek snarled furiously.

“Clawed me.” Stiles clarified. “I don’t even think he realized he did it. I’m serious about him being off his rocker, Der. I think he’s going feral.”

Derek snarled a bit more and then seemed to get himself under control.

“We’ll deal with McCall. Are you sure you’re okay, Red?”

Stiles’ face went soft at the worry in his mate’s voice. “I’m fine, Der. The pups did great. Boyd was awesome and is totally getting a Scooby Snack when we get home tonight.” He winked at the dark-skinned teen who rolled his eyes, even though Stiles could feel how pleased he was at the praise in their bond.

Derek huffed out a little laugh and sighed. “Okay, Red. Just, try not to get into any more fights, please?”

“Rude. I wasn’t trying to get into this one. Unlike Scott, I know better than to try shit at school.”

“I know you do, Stiles. Just...be careful.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Well keep an eye on Mom, Dad!” Erica called out. “We won’t let McCall mess with him again.”

Derek chuckled through the phone. “I know you pups will. Thank you.”

The bell rang and they ended the call, but Stiles had a Beta-bodyguard the rest of the day and when they left school that afternoon, Erica was not surprised to see a furious Scott watching them go.

She wondered how long they had until things went side-ways and promised herself that no matter what, she'd protect her new family.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

The night of the full moon was always something the Hales had looked forward too. Back before the fire they’d spend all day cooking and napping and as soon as the sun set they’d have a huge feast and then run through the Preserve while the little ones played with sparklers and had a huge bonfire.

When Laura dragged him off to New York, full moons became cold, solitary events of Chinese take-out and hiding in their rooms trying not to lose their minds. On occasion they’d huddle up on Laura’s bed and binge bad B-rated werewolf movies and eat ice cream directly from the carton.

When Derek bit the betas, he was so paranoid that full moons became the things of nightmares. Chains, that god-awful halo torture device he’d used on Erica, mountain ash…yeah, it was bad and Derek had no idea how to make it better. He hated that he’d done it at all, but fear makes you do stupid things.

Apparently, love makes you do silly ones.

Derek woke to the smell of fried dough and powdered sugar. Lots and lots of powdered sugar.

“What?”

Derek stood at the bottom of the stairs beside Peter and stared at the mess that was the kitchen. Erica and Isaac were flinging flour at each other over the kitchen table while Boyd stood at the stove carefully ladling a thin batter into hot oil, Stiles beside him murmuring instructions and praise in equal measure. The small smile Boyd flashed him occasionally was open and sincere because Stiles was open and sincere and the beta recognized that.

“Good. As soon as they’re done, place them on the paper towels and then the miscreants can cover them in sugar.”

He raised an eyebrow at the other two over his shoulder. “Only if there’s any left of course.”

Erica collapsed into a seat and blew out a breath, her hair lifting off her face and a fine layer of white dust billowing up around her.

“Don’t worry, there’s still some left, Mom.”

Stiles sighed, “Good, ‘cause these chruściki don’t taste nearly as good without them. Can you two please clean up now?”

Isaac sidled closer to wrap his arms around Stiles’ shoulders and rub his head against his Alpha’s chin.

“What are they?”

“Chruściki?”

“Yeah.”

“It means Angel Wings in Polish. Basically, they are fried sweet pastry. I thought today would be a good chance to start our own full-moon tradition, since we’re all together. First step, food, because I know how you all eat. So, breakfast and then someone can come shopping with me to pick up the ingredients for dinner.”

He glanced up at Derek and Peter sitting on the stairs and gave them a small, understanding smile. “You guys got any ideas to contribute?”

“Sparklers,” Peter said softly. Derek glanced down at his uncle, surprised.

“The uh,” Peter swallowed and shook his head slightly, “The pups would play with sparklers before the run.”

“Sparklers…huh, not sure if we can get regular sparklers in September, but I think I can make something work. Anything else?”

“Not that we want to do,” Derek said, eyes shuttering.

Stiles studied both men carefully and then nodded, face tight. “Cool, so, I was thinking of a movie marathon, a crap ton of food and then a run. How’s that sound?”

“No Marvel movies, Stiles!” Isaac pouted.

“Rude! Actually, I was thinking maybe we could watch every b-werewolf movie, like American Werewolf in London, Teen Wolf, the Wolfman, things like that.”

Erica cackled while the boys rolled their eyes, but Stiles felt the happiness in the pack bonds. A sharp stab of guilt and sadness hit him out of the blue and then was gone, but Stiles knew the bond it reverberated down.

“Wonder Triplets, finish up in here. Peter, could you check in with my dad and see when he’ll be back tonight?”

Peter caught his wrist as he passed him up the stairs, following Derek. “Take it easy on him,” he whispered, too low for the betas to hear.

Stiles tangled their fingers together and gave them a light squeeze.

“He’s my priority, Peter. I love you all but he’s…”

“Your mate. I know and I’m fine with that. We all are, just let him do the talking, yeah?”

Stiles gave him a sad smile, “I know,” squeezed his fingers once more and continued up after his mate.

Derek didn’t acknowledge the door to Stiles’ room closing with a soft click. He knew Stiles would follow him the same way he knew Peter and the others were worried about him.

Stiles crawled onto the bed behind him, his legs long and loose on either side of his, Stiles’ chest pressed tight against his back and long arms wrapped around his chest lightly. The teen didn’t say anything, just held him. Derek sighed, his eyes closed as he slumped backwards against the boy, letting his Alpha and mate take his weight, supporting him while he collected his thoughts.

“After the fire,” he began, voice barely a whisper, “Laura wanted me to go back to school, but I couldn’t deal with all the people. She tried working at a coffee shop for a bit, but every time someone dropped something or the door closed too hard she’d freak out. We kept looking over our shoulders anytime we left the brownstone.”

“Hyper-vigilance and PTSD.”

“Yeah.” He snorted a self-deprecating laugh. “We lost more than our family during the fire. I wouldn’t leave the apartment and Laura was going crazy trying to control her wolf and each full moon it just seemed to get worse. It was bad, Sti. Really, really bad.”

“What happened?”

“An intervention of sorts. We were staying in the Patterson Pack’s territory. The Alpha, Richard, was my dad’s college roommate. My dad was human, you know? Same as Peter’s wife. Mom turned them before they were married.“

Stiles made a non-committal hum and pressed a soft kiss to Derek’s shoulder.

“When Laura and I ran, it was Richard who took us in. Got us set-up in the brownstone at the edge of his territory. Close enough for them to help if we needed it, but far enough away for our wolves to be calm. Well, calmer.”

He lapsed into silence for a moment, just soaking in Stiles’ presence behind him. Focusing on the way his fingers drew nonsensical patterns in the fabric of his shirt over his stomach. He hadn’t liked anyone touching him there after Kate, but Stiles wasn’t Kate and his touch made his heart beat faster for completely different reasons.

“Mia, Richard’s emissary, used to come by with groceries and books for me to read. After about six months she stormed in and threw a box down on the coffee table and said that was enough wallowing. She was going to make me finish high school if she had to personally tutor me.”

He gave a little laugh and it wasn’t nearly as broken as the first one.

“I told her ‘no’; but you don’t tell a witch ‘no’ and expect her to listen, especially not one from the Bronx. She hung me upside down from the ceiling for twenty minutes until I thought I was going to pass out and finally gave in.”

“She came over every day for three months until I was able to study on my own. Once I was taken care of, she set her sights on Laura. I've never seen my sister panic as much as the night Mia showed up in club wear and a bag of clothes and told Laura they were going out. I thought she might shift and run she was so freaked.”

“She took her clubbing?”

Derek shrugged, “Like I said, an intervention. For me, it was school, for Laura, it was being able to walk down the street without constantly looking over her shoulder. Going into a room full of strangers and not losing control. The club wasn’t even that crowded and half the people there were members of the Patterson Pack and the rest were supes. They didn’t even serve alcohol. Apparently Caleb, the guy who owned the place, lost his liquor license the month before and hadn’t bothered getting it back. The local wild dog pack had taken it over and turned it into this weird karaoke-type bar with 80s music several times a week.”

This time Derek’s smile was mischievous when he glanced over at Stiles. “Mia teased and sprayed Laura’s hair so large I wasn’t sure she’d fit in the taxi and the dress had shoulder pads. Laura was mortified, but it was hilarious and Mia looked just as ridiculous. They were laughing when they came home.”

“It was the first time I’d seen Laura laugh since the fire.”

Stiles kissed the back of Derek’s neck. “Sounds like a good memory.”

“It is.”

“Then what upset you downstairs?”

“On full moons…before Mia stepped in, Laura and I would curl up on her bed and we’d watch all those movies you mentioned downstairs. We’d do Chinese and cry and say it was because of the bad acting but it wasn’t.”

“Oh, Der,” Stiles breathed out, holding him a bit tighter. “We don’t have to watch those tonight. We can Princess Bride it or something…”

“No,” Derek whispered, head shaking minutely. “No, it’s…you were right. We need to make new memories. This is our Pack now and it’s good. It’s so much better than it was when I was Alpha. You’re so much better than I was and this doesn’t have to be like New York, at least, not the bad parts.”

“I’m not better than you were, Derek…”

“You are,” Derek insisted, turning to sit sideways in the bed, his face open and sincere. “I was afraid and that fear made me hurt them when all I wanted to do was protect. You aren’t afraid, not the same way at least.”

“I’m afraid, Der, I am, but I know I have you and Peter and my dad to help. I’m not alone.”

Derek nodded, “But I was and that scared me. I know I always said I wasn’t meant to be the Alpha and that’s true, all that responsibility scared the shit out of me, Sti. I always wanted to support an Alpha, not be the Alpha. I wanted to be like my dad. You gave me that. This, being here with you and the betas, I can do this, I can help and support you, I know I can.”

Stiles’ smile was beautiful as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Derek’s lips. “I know you can. You already are. You helped Isaac with his history project this week, talked Boyd out of beating the shit out of McCall, and don’t think I don’t know about you telling Erica you’d help her with her driving test next month. If that doesn’t scream Alpha’s Mate I don’t know what does, because as much as I love Catwoman, her driving scares the shit out of me. Way more than harpies.”

Derek ducked his head; ears burning red in embarrassment as he laughed.

“You support the Pack by just being you, Der. You love them and want the best for them. Hell, Derek, you adopted Isaac. He’s your son and the Pack knows it. They look to you for approval and love just as much as they do me.”

Derek sighed, leaning forward until their foreheads were resting against each other. Eyes closed he rubbed their noses together softly. “And that right there is why you’re the Alpha.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” he brushed a soft kiss over his lips, “come on, let’s see if the pups left anything for us to eat.”

Derek pulled out of Stiles’ embrace reluctantly. He felt calmer than he had in a long time and knew it was all because of the man beside him. His Alpha and mate. God, he loved him so much.

“So, which one of you miscreants are coming with me to get groceries?” Stiles called out as they came down the stairs.

“What are we getting?” Isaac asked from the couch.

“Lamb, cabbage, more potatoes than an Iowa farmer, chicken liver, onion, apples, mushrooms, more flour obviously,” he gave Erica and Isaac a look that had them both laughing manically, “lots of veggies, sausage, and sour cream. Maybe a small jar of sauerkraut, since I haven’t bothered buying any lately.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of food.”

“Eh, it’ll get used up. Might need to pick up a few chickens to cook for the next few days as well. I can roast them easily enough while we cook the rest of it. Boyd, you up to learn some of my babcia’s secret Stilinski family recipes?”

The dark-skinned teen’s eyes lit up. “That’d be cool. What are we going to make?”

“I’m thinking pierogi with oscypek, roast lamb with kluski śląskie, gołąbki, and ryż z jabłkami.”

Boyd looked around the room confused. “Yeah, I have no idea what any of that means, Stilinski.”

Stiles laughed out loud. “No worries man, come on, you can help me with the shopping. Der, can I use your card?”

“Of course. Get whatever you need. Do you want me to come with?”

Stiles glanced at Boyd and then back to Derek, “No, I think Boyd and I can manage, right, B-man?”

Boyd gave him an unimpressed eyebrow raise. “As long as you never call me that again.”

Stiles laughed brightly and clasped him on the shoulder, pocketing the card Derek handed him. “You got it, pup.”

“Peter, any idea about Pops?”

“Noah should be back around midnight.”

“Okay, then maybe we’ll do something light for an early supper and then the rest of the meal when he gets in.” He tapped his keys against his teeth. “Yeah, okay, so we’ll pick up eggs and rye flour and garlic as well and make żurek. That’ll be light enough to keep you all from gnawing on the furniture until dad gets in.”

“Wonder Twins, think you can make up a playlist for tonight? Nothing too dark, I want 80s style bad monster movies.”

“Got it, Mom!” Erica cheered, draping herself over Derek’s shoulders.

The last thing Stiles saw was the gentle smile on Derek’s face as Erica nuzzled his cheek.

Stiles flicked his fingers into the air, pink, blue and green sparkles flicking up into the dark night sky and exploding in a cacophony of lights like a mini-fireworks display. He twisted his fingers and the lights coalesced into trees with five wolves running through them.

Erica bounced beside a smiling Boyd while Isaac pressed himself close to Derek who was wrapped around Stiles like an octopus, one arm draped over Isaac's shoulders. Peter and Noah stood talking softly against the back wall of the house, beers in hand while they watched the light show. Stiles kept it low enough that hopefully the neighbors wouldn’t notice.

The dinner had gone over well, once he’d explained what everything was.

His dad had walked through the door after his shift and stood frozen in the doorway.

“Noah, are you alright?” Peter had asked, frowning at the man from his seat in the recliner.

“He made gołąbki.”

Peter stood and walked over silently. “The cabbage rolls? Yes, he said it was his grandmother’s recipe.”

Noah swallowed harshly. “Claudia used to make it for celebrations. It was the first meal my mother showed her how to make.”

Peter’s eyes softened in understanding. “How about a beer? I think they’re just about done moving everything outside.”

“Yeah,” Noah’s voice cracked slightly, “Yeah, that sounds good, thanks Pete.”

Peter ran a hand over Noah’s shoulder lightly, barely scenting him, the action more for comfort than anything else. “I’ll let the boys know you’re home. Why don’t you go change?”

Stiles stepped up beside Peter as his dad headed upstairs. “The gołąbki?”

“Yes, I didn’t realize it was Claudia’s recipe.”

Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face. “All the Polish recipes are babcia’s and mom’s. After she died, dad couldn’t make himself cook them and I didn’t want to push. But it’s been nine years, Peter, and I’m tired of not talking about her. I’m…I’m forgetting things. Little things like the sound of her laugh and how she smelled. I don’t want to forget anymore. I don’t want to pretend she was never here.”

Peter nodded stiffly, “My wife, Samantha…she used to make these amazing chocolate-covered cornflake balls at Christmas. Called them haystacks. Said they were something her grandmother used to make with her as a kid. She wouldn’t tell me how to make them, wanted to pass the secret recipe on to our children.”

Stiles glanced at Peter’s profile without turning his head.

“She was pregnant when the fire happened. We’d just found out the week before and hadn’t told anyone yet. She wasn’t my mate, but I loved her just the same. I never did find out how to make them.”

“I’m sorry, Peter.”

Peter’s head jerked; shoulders stiff as he turned on his heel. “Don’t tell, Derek. He has enough guilt; he doesn’t need any more.”

“He’ll find out eventually, Peter, you know that.”

He blew out a breath and looked back over his shoulder at his Alpha. “Not tonight.”

Stiles nodded in acceptance. “Not tonight. The bottles with the purple labels in the vegetable drawer have aconite in them, if you need it. Make sure the betas don’t find them.”

Peter gave a little smile and left.

The run was good. Derek and Peter ran them hard and fast in a game of tag that lasted until the sun was pinking the horizon. Noah had crashed around 3am, Stiles had dozed periodically, but woken when the wolves tumbled into the living room.

“Clean clothes are in the laundry room,” he grumbled from the couch, “do not get mud in the house.”

Erica and Isaac giggled while Boyd and Derek exchanged grins.

“Such a Pack Mom,” Peter stage whispered, making all of the betas crack-up.

“Damn straight. There’s drinks in the fridge. Do you need food or are you ready to crash?”

“Puppy pile!” Erica screeched as she crawled over him, burrowing herself in under the covers and plastering herself against his chest. She was wearing a large shirt with faded BHPD on it and boy shorts and her hair was pulled up into a messy bun that tickled his nose.

“Not a puppy pile,” Derek groused half-heartedly. He lifted the two and settled in against the arm of the couch, then pulled them back into the v of his legs. Erica and Stiles gaped at the easy display of strength.

“Holy shit, Batman,” she whisper-laughed causing Stiles to sputter and hide his face against Derek’s bare chest. And wasn’t that an amazing sight and feeling?

Isaac lay down on the mattress Stiles had spread on the floor with Peter on his left and Boyd on his right. Sighing contentedly when Stiles ran his fingers through his curls.

“Good run?”

“The best. Peter won though, which sucks,” Isaac quipped.

“Peter’s got more experience, pup. Maybe tomorrow he can show you a few tricks.”

“That’d be nice,” Isaac mumbled, curling in closer to the older were.

Peter looked up at his Alpha, his eyes wet at the easy way he’d been included and, more importantly, trusted by his Pack.

Stiles didn’t say anything, but Peter felt warmth and pride flow through the Pack bonds.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face and his Pack by his side.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Jackson sat silently in the corner of the McCall living room. He would have liked to say Lydia was by his side, but she was in the kitchen with Allison plotting. He really didn’t want to know what.

“Hey,” Liam said softly, voice low and tight with worry.

“Hey.”

“I…do you know what’s going on?”

Jackson looked up at the younger teen. Liam reminded him of Isaac, but angrier. So very, very angry.

“No. Not sure I want to, to be honest.”

Liam crouched down beside him, his back to the wall and their shoulder’s barely brushing. It was a defensive move Jackson recognized easily.

“Why is everyone so pissed? Like, Scott’s practically vibrating he’s so mad.”

Jackson sighed and shrugged. “You know who he’s pissed at.”

“Yeah, St...” He cut himself off when Jackson hissed at him in warning. “Yeah, but why? We had two packs when Derek was Alpha. What’s it matter if the others go back there?”

Jackson frowned, Liam was right, Erica, Boyd and Isaac had all been part of Derek’s Pack before, it shouldn’t matter now that they were with Stiles.

“I don’t know. I just know McCall isn’t handling it well. He’s still got us and the girls, but…”

“Are you thinking of leaving too?”

Jackson gave him a sideways glance before refocusing on the room in general. “Lydia won’t leave, she’s pissed at him for siding with Derek.”

Liam turned to look at Jackson fully, his blue eyes dark with worry and something else Jackson couldn’t identify. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I…I don’t know. We’re not exactly friends.”

Liam shrugged, “And you and Scott are?”

“True. Still…”

“Have you talked to Danny about all this?”

Jackson’s head snapped up. “What? No! Why would you, how?”

Liam pursed his lips like he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. “He said something yesterday that made me think he knows more than he’s letting on. I just figured if he did, you might want to talk to him about this, get a different point of view.”

“When did you get so smart?” Jackson sneered.

Liam gave him an unimpressed look. “I’m not stupid, jackass, I might not know all the details, but I have eyes and this,” he waved around the living room where everyone was in their own little corners ignoring everyone else. Kira sat with her back to the wall, knee jumping up and down as her eyes flitted from one member to another. She should have been with Scott, but Scott was in the kitchen ranting with Allison and Lydia.

“This,” Liam continued, “this is wrong. It doesn’t feel right and I don’t like it. I liked it better before.”

Jackson jerked his chin down as Liam pouted. “I don’t want to leave, but I don’t want to stay either, not if it’s going to be like this.”

Jackson silently agreed. He pressed his shoulder against Liam’s and caught Kira’s eye. The kitsune glanced nervously at the kitchen and then crawled over to the two wolves. They stayed close together for the rest of the night.

School was stressful as usual. Jackson tried to keep his head down and stay out of the drama, but being on the lacrosse team and having Lydia bitching in his ear all day was driving him nuts. Kira and Liam had both made a point to sit close to him at lunch and while he couldn’t get the words out, he really hoped they understood how much he appreciated their silent support.

“Jackson,” Danny kicked him in the shins under the library desk. “You ever going to tell me what the hell’s going on?”

Jackson glared at his homework. “What do you mean?”

“Dude, don’t. I’ve known you since we were in preschool and you can’t lie worth shit, not to me, so spill it.”

“I can’t…”

“Does this have anything to do with half the lacrosse team being werewolves?”

“Wait, what?!” Jackson sputtered, voice loud enough that the librarian shushed him angrily.

“How did you? What do you? I mean, what the hell, Danny?!”

Danny chuckled and leaned back in his chair. He flicked dark eyes around the room and then made a small circle with his right index finger. A small line of aqua light circled their table and chairs.

“Okay, now no one can listen in. Tell me what’s been going on, Jacks.”

“I…what the hell are you, Danny?”

“Kahuna ho’okalakupua.”

“What?”

“Hawai’ian wizard. You?”

“Werewolf. Former Kanima.”

Danny whistled. “Well, that explains a shit load about last year. Your pack?”

Jackson shrugged, frowning slightly. “I’m…I’m not really sure. Derek bit me, but I guess I’m technically in McCall’s Pack.”

Danny’s eyebrows hit his hair line. “Scott McCall is an Alpha werewolf?”

Jackson made a disgusted snort. Tossing his pencil on the desk as he scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Yeah. He got bit by Peter Hale last year and through the worst series of fucked up events ever became a ‘True Alpha’.” And yeah, he was douche enough to air quote the term.

Danny blinked, running through everything he’d seen the past year and a half.

“Okay, so Scott’s an Alpha, what about Stiles? They’ve been fighting for the past month or so, right?”

“That’s where shit went sideways. Scott kicked him out of the Pack and then Stilinski turns up as an Alpha himself and most of Derek’s original betas switched sides.”

“Stilinski is an Alpha werewolf?” Danny asked incredulously. Man, he did not see that coming.

“No. Yes, he’s not a wolf, but he is an Alpha, I haven’t the slightest idea how he did it, but something about his spark allowing him too…”

“Wait!” Danny interrupted him, eyes wide and body vibrating. “Did you say Stiles is a Spark?”

“Uh, yeah, I mean, that’s what Deaton said. It’s not a big deal, he just fucks around with mountain ash and stuff.”

Danny shook his head vehemently, “No, Jackson. If Stiles is a Spark, he’s not just fucking around and it is a very big deal. Holy shit, an actual Spark. My parents are going to loose their minds.”

“What are you talking about? Why would your parents care about Stilinski?”

“Wow, you guys don’t know anything, do you? Okay, look. Most people have some form of magical ability, you know, intuition and stuff. That’s the base level.” He drew a solid line at the bottom of a scratch sheet of paper.

“Then there are witches. They come in a bunch of forms, but most deal with small things, like potions or herbs. They need to create spells and say incantations.” He drew another line about a third of the way up the page. “Warlocks are their evil opposites.”

“Druids come next. They’re all about balance and are fucking annoying. They deal with mostly elemental magic.” That line was half-way up the page. About an inch above it he drew another line.

“Then there are wizards, like me and my family. Wizards use set rituals to draw on ancestral magic. Like, I can’t make my pencil levitate, but I could call on spirit animals to protect myself if attacked, but only if I do a set ritual or use a pre-made totem." He fingered the carved jade manta ray necklace he always wore under his shirt. "We’re more powerful than druids and witches, but it takes a longer time to make our magic work.”

He took a second sheet of paper and put it above the first and drew a line at the very top.

“Sparks are up here. Way, way above the rest of us and unlike us, they don’t need spells or rituals or anything. They just have to imagine it. Believe it and it happens. The last Spark I heard about was killed in the Holocaust, Jackson. They are so rare because they're so powerful and if Stiles is a Spark,” he shook his head, “holy shit, if McCall pissed him off bad enough, Stiles could make him disappear. Literally.”

Jackson swallowed hard. “Jesus.”

Danny nodded hard, “Yeah, I don’t know what happened, but if I were you, I’d suck it up and make nice with Stiles, you don’t want to piss off a Spark.”

“I…I think I need to talk to Liam and Kira.”

“Not Lydia?”

Jackson shook his head. “Lydia and I…we haven’t really been on the same page for a while now.”

Danny gave his best friend a sad, knowing look. “I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s…not good, but it’s okay, I guess. I mean, we were there for each other when we needed it the most, but…” he shrugged dejectedly.

“I guess I always knew it wouldn’t work out in the end.”

Danny reached out and took his hand, tangling their fingers together like they used to when they were younger. “Things happen, Jacks. People grow up. Just because it didn’t work out with Lydia doesn’t mean it won’t work out with someone else. I mean hell, I love you.” Danny gave him a dopey grin making Jackson snort.

“You are such a dork.”

“Yeah, I know, come on, let’s see if we can find the others.”

As they walked out of the library, Jackson bumped their shoulders together. “You know, I love you too, man.”

Danny gave him an enigmatic smile. “I know.”

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Hey look, a new picture, I wonder what that means? ;3 thanks to @zwatchtowerz for part of this mood board.

Stiles wasn’t surprised to see Liam and Kira on his front step. Of all of them, those two were the sweetest, most innocent of the lot. He honestly didn’t think Kira knew how to be mean and Liam was just a puppy. Like, a literal tumble nose first into the laundry, puppy. He might have had loyalty to Scott for saving his life, but he didn’t do well in high stress environments and right now, the McCall Pack was probably the most stressful environment in Beacon Hills, which was saying something.

What did surprise him was to find Jackson and Danny standing there.

“Huh,” he said when he opened the door.

“Hey Stiles.” Kira chirped, but Stiles saw the tense line of her shoulders and the forced edge of cheerfulness.

He softened his voice and held the door open all the way. “Hi, sweetie. You doing okay?”

Kira’s lip trembled before she was throwing herself into Stiles’ arms, which, okay, was admittedly weird, but then again, so was Kira. The kitsune bawled into Stiles’ shoulder drawing the attention of the other weres in the house. Derek and Stiles exchanged a sad smile over her head.

Derek gently pulled Kira out of Stiles’ arms as he led her over to the couch. She tucked herself in tight against his side while she cried. He brushed a large hand over her dark hair.

“It’s fine. You’re okay now. We’ve got you. You’re okay,” he murmured soothingly.

Stiles turned back to the others. “You guys gonna come in or just hang out on my front porch all day long?”

Liam ducked his head, “Can we come in?”

Stiles reached out and wrapped an arm around Liam’s neck, tugging the younger teen inside. “Come on, pup, I was just getting the snacks out. You can help me bring them into the living room.”

“Okay.”

“Danny, Jackson, make yourself at home, I’m sure you’ve got lots of questions.”

The two made their way over to the couch, but just stood there awkwardly until Isaac tossed a pillow at Jackson’s face.

“Oh my God, just grab a chair or cushion or something, jeeze.”

Danny tugged Jackson down onto one of the large ground cushions that were scattered across the floor.

“So, is this where the cool kids hang out these days?” Danny asked teasingly.

“Only the coolest,” Erica said on a sneer, eyes narrowed at Jackson, “Not sure why you’re here then, Jackass.”

“Can it, Reyes.” Stiles said firmly.

Erica ducked her head at the reproach in Stiles’ eyes. “Sorry, Mom.”

“Uh huh. Here, food, Liam’s getting the drinks. Get some sugar into you and then maybe we can all have a civilized conversation.”

Peter snorted as he sat down beside Isaac. “Are you really expecting a bunch of teens to have a civilized discussion, sweetheart?”

Stiles threw an apple at Peter’s head. “I can always hope, Uncle Creeper.”

“Good luck with that.”

Stiles rolled his eyes as he sat down carefully next to Kira and handed her a grape soda, she sniffled as she took it.

“How you doing, KitKat?”

She gave him a watery smile for the nickname. “Better. I’m sorry about that.”

Stiles waved away the apology. “Nope, none of that. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“It’s been hard. I…I know I don’t need Pack like the wolves, but…”

“It’s sucked,” Liam said succinctly. He handed out the rest of the drinks and took a seat beside Erica and Boyd. Erica, being Erica, wrapped an arm around him and dragged him in close against her chest making him squirm.

“Yeah, that.” Kira said, using her sleeve to dry her eyes. They were puffy and red, but no one said anything.

Stiles ran a hand over her head, scenting her and let out a tendril of magic to help sooth away the sharpness of her emotions.

“Oh, wow,” Danny breathed, brown eyes edged in bright aqua as he watched Stiles’ hands.

“Well, well Mr. Mahealani, I do believe there’s something you forgot to share with the rest of the class.” Peter cooed, making the teen blush scarlet and stutter.

“Peter…” Derek warned when Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Oh, um…”

“You’re a ho’okalakupua, aren’t you?” Stiles asked, head tilted to the side and eyes Alpha amber.

“Yes, can you, can you see them?”

Stiles nodded; eyes slightly unfocused as he looked just past Danny’s shoulder. “A manta ray and a turtle and…there’s something else, a third one, but it’s faint. I don’t think it’s fully manifested yet.”

“Wow, yeah, you’re right. I won’t get it until I turn eighteen. Do you know what it is?”

Stiles pressed a kiss to Kira’s head absently and stood, the room silent as he crossed to Danny and made a slight waving motion in the air above his head, like he was moving the curtains around to see out the window better.

Danny felt a sensation like spiderwebs breaking over his skin and then a sharp tug as Stiles reached out and wrapped his hand around something intangible and pulled.

All of a sudden it was like Danny was being ripped up out of the ocean- the rush of water in his ears and pop of bubbles harsh against his skin. He felt his jaw expand and the harsh bite of jagged, backwards facing teeth rip through his skin as it snapped shut on air.

“Holy fuck!” Jackson yelled, falling backwards and away from his friend.

The other weres in the room were all up on their feet beta shifted, fangs and claws out to rend. Danny blinked up into Derek’s blue ringed amber eyes. Stiles was firmly behind him with Peter on one side of him and Erica on the other. Isaac was at his back.

Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Guys, chill, Danny wasn’t going to hurt me.”

“He shifted into a shark, Stiles!” Derek growled.

“Yes, because I forced him to, but it wasn’t real, not yet.”

He laid bodily across Derek’s back and shoulders. “It wouldn’t have hurt me, Der. I promise, it was like a hologram. Danny’s safe. I swear.”

The others relaxed in increments, but Derek’s eyes still held a blue gleam even when his face shifted back to human.

“Come on, Der-bear, relax. Come sit with me and KitKat.” Stiles settled back onto the sofa and patted the seat beside him, slowly the other man inched away from Danny. Once he was sitting, Stiles crawled into his lap, effectively pinning him in place, but it wasn’t until Derek’s eyes stopped glowing that Danny finally remembered to breathe.

“So, a shark?”

“Tiger shark from the looks of it. Pretty cool actually. It’ll be sweet when you can actually manifest it,” Stiles smirked at him.

“How did you manage to pull it forward?”

Stiles shrugged. “The others were really clear, but they were on top of you. Like, just sitting there in the way and they really didn’t want to move and let me see the other one, so I needed to kinda,” he made a shoving motion with his hand. “And then the bastard didn’t want to come into the open, which just pissed me off so I sort of made him.”

He gave Danny an apologetic look. “Sorry about that, bee tee dubs. I didn’t realize it would overtake you.”

Danny was already shaking his head, “No, it’s okay, that was just, I’ve never heard of anyone being able to force the spirit guides out before.”

“Our dear Alpha isn’t just anyone,” Peter said, pride evident in his voice.

“Yeah, I know. A Spark. That’s, that’s so freaking cool.”

Stiles blushed slightly, turning his face into Derek’s shoulder and rubbing it there for a minute.

“So,” Jackson cut in. “What are we going to do about McCall?”

The Pack gave a collective sigh. “How bad is it, really?” Stiles asked, sliding off Derek’s lap.

“Bad. If he’s not ignoring us, he’s ranting about how dangerous you are and how everyone is out to get him.” Liam answered annoyed at Scott all over again.

Stiles frowned and shared a look with Peter and Derek.

“You think he’s going feral, don’t you?” Jackson asked.

Stiles scrubbed at his hair. “Yeah. Pack bonds work differently with non-wolves. It’s not that they can’t form, but they aren’t as strong and regardless of what Scott thinks, the bonds were pretty fucking weak even before I left.”

“How do you know?” Danny asked intrigued.

“I can see them. I could before, but they’re so much clearer now.”

“What do you mean, Stiles?” Boyd asked.

Stiles hummed under his breath for a minute trying to organize his thoughts. “Okay, so, let me see if I can show you.”

He turned to Derek and laid his hand directly over his heart.

“Sti?” Derek asked softly as he placed his own hand on top of Stiles’.

“It’s okay, Big Guy, just relax.”

Stiles closed his eyes and concentrated. The mate bond was easy to find, even easier to see in his mind’s eye, but harder to make appear for the others. He pulled the image tight, letting the feeling wash over him- love, acceptance, wonder- and pushed them outwards from his body so they hovered in the air over their clasped hands. He heard a gasp, probably from Kira as she was closest and an aww that was definitely from Erica.

When he opened his eyes there was a twisted red cord as thick as his wrist running from Derek’s heart to his.

“That’s the Pack bond? Isaac asked softly.

“No,” Peter said, awe in his voice as he placed a hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “That’s the mate bond.” He looked between Stiles and his nephew; eyes wide with wonder.

“I’ve never seen a mate bond so strong. Not even Talia and Michael’s was as thick as yours.”

Derek’s eyes widened at his parents' names. He looked to Stiles with pride and love, making the younger man blush furiously.

“What does that mean?” Liam asked. “What’s a mate bond?”

Now that Stiles knew how to physically manifest the bond, he reached out and touched Peter and Isaac, who were nearest to him, then Erica and Boyd when they pressed in close.

Peter’s connection to Derek was a thick gold. Familial bonds. Erica and Boyd’s was a thinner, softer red, also mate bonds. The betas all had silver bonds of various thicknesses to each other with slightly thicker ones to Stiles as their Alpha.

Stiles let the bonds fade away before answering Liam’s question.

“We all have bonds. It’s the emotional and spiritual connection between friends and family. Gold for family, silver for friends, red for lovers. The thickness and depth of color show the strength of the connection.” Stiles started. He specifically hadn’t shown Danny, Jackson, Kira or Liam’s connections. He could feel them only faintly like the ghost of a memory, and he didn’t want to put them on the spot.

“Mates are the supernatural equivalent of human soulmates. They are permanent, irreversible and only broken by death, sometimes, not even then.” He gave Derek a soft smile when the were pulled him in close against his chest.

“For weres, mates are an instinctual thing. The animal spirit recognizes the potential for a mate by their smell. It is harder for non-weres to feel and sometimes, the human side of the were gets in the way and stupidly fights their spirit side.”

Derek gave a low growl at that and held Stiles tighter.

Stiles pressed a kiss to his chin and kept talking. “If the mate is too young, or there is some kind of magical interference, the bond is harder to sense. This sometimes manifests as extreme emotions, like anger or frustration, because the spirit knows there’s something there, but they can’t explain it properly to the human side.”

“Wait, is that why Derek kept throwing you up against the walls and growling all the time?” Erica asked, sitting up straight.

Derek whined but nodded. “Stiles was barely sixteen and after the fire…I didn’t trust my wolf and I ended up taking it out on him.”

Stiles smoothed a hand down his arm. “It didn’t help that my Adderall was starting to not work because I was coming into my magic. Between the two of them, my chemo-signals were all over the place, so Der never really got a good scent off of me.”

“When did you know?” Isaac asked Derek.

“My wolf knew right away, there was something there the first time we met in the woods, but I didn’t start realizing something was happening until the pool.”

“I hadn’t taken my Adderall in two days and the pool water would have stripped most of the other smells from my skin and I’m pretty sure I was using some kind of magic to keep us a float.”

Derek gave him a surprised look. “I was wondering how you kept us up that long.”

“It was still new. Deaton had shown me the mountain ash, but the pool wasn’t a conscious thought, I just couldn’t let you drown; even when you were being an ass.”

Derek nipped at his ear in retaliation for that.

“Watch the fangs buddy,” Stiles snapped, jerking his head away.

Derek growled and pulled him closer, unwilling to let him go.

“So, you just figured it out then, that you were mates?” Liam pressed.

“Yes and no. I knew something was there, but so many other things were going on that I couldn’t focus on it and then when I did…there just never seemed to be a good time.”

“You trusted each other a lot more though,” Boyd said. “When the darach and the Alpha pack came around, you trusted Stiles even when you were being manipulated.”

Derek flinched at the reminder and Stiles sent a soothing pulse down their bond. “It’s okay, Der. We survived. No one died and we all made it out of there in one piece.”

“And the nogistune,” Kira whispered, curling herself in against the Alpha pair. “Derek was your King, right? You fought him off and managed to save us all.”

Stiles’ heart stuttered causing the pups and Derek to whine and press close. He still had nightmares, horrible, bloody nightmares, but Kira was right. Derek had been the most important player on his board.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “He was my King. I was the Queen, the most powerful piece, but Der was the most important. I knew if I could protect him, he would be able to figure out a way to stop Void.”

“Because he was your mate?” Danny asked.

“I think the part of me that knew we were mates believed that he would figure it out. And a lot of a Spark’s abilities come from belief, so that was a definite advantage, but mostly, I just trusted him.” He glanced back at Derek, a small smile on his face as he brushed Derek’s stubbled chin with long fingers.

“I knew you wouldn’t give up on me. Even when I gave up on myself.”

A broken whine came from Derek’s throat as he surged forward, licking into Stiles’ mouth and stealing his breath while the others fake gagged and groaned. “I love you,” Derek breathed and poured all the emotions he couldn’t say down their bond.

Stiles gasped at the overwhelming feeling of want and lust and love. He felt full of it to the point of bursting.

“Holy shit, Stilinski,” Jackson whispered.

Stiles tore his mouth away to follow Jackson’s line of sight to the glowing point of light over his heart. He was so shocked he didn’t even flail when Derek pulled back and rucked up his shirt to see the bright amber glow slowly coalesce into three glowing curves.

Derek sucked in a harsh breath as the glow darkened until it turned into a perfect black triskele the size of Stiles’ fist directly over their mate bond. It pulsed orange-red at the edges in time to his heartbeat, like the last dredges of a fire flickering amongst the coals.

Derek ran his finger over it and their bond flared hot and bright enough to snatch both their breaths away.

“Was that…” Stiles asked breathless.

“I think so.” Derek answered.

“Holy shit, did we just get werewolf married?”

Derek chuckled warmly, already feeling the low pull of lust forming in his gut. He leaned down and pressed a kiss against the triskele that went straight to Stiles’ dick.

“Fu…ck… Der.” He whined.

“And that is our queue to leave, pups.” Peter said, standing hastily.

“Wait, what?” Isaac asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

“The mark is the second step in the mating processes after they’d declared their intent verbally, the third is the bite and none of us need to be here to see that happen, so up, up, up, up, move it. I do not want to see our Alpha’s having sex.”

Erica made a noise as Peter pushed her out the door. “No, you are not watching them, I don’t care how hot they are.”

“Well, they are kind of hot,” Kira giggled as she and Liam were prodded outside.

“Wait, what is happening?” Jackson snapped.

Peter slammed the door shut and prodded the teens towards the waiting cars. “They are about to finish the mating bond, which means they were about five seconds from screwing each other’s brains out in front of us and I know that will just freak them both out tomorrow if we’d seen them, so we needed to leave.”

“Look, you four,” he pointed to Jackson, Liam and Kira, then tilted his head at Danny, “well, three, you three need to think about what it is you want. At this rate, I doubt McCall will be able to hold himself back, especially if you leave and join Stiles, but that should not be your first concern. You need to pick an Alpha who will love and protect you. Stiles will do that, but he would never tell you to switch if it didn’t feel right. So go home, think about it and what you want. Talk to each other, to the betas,” he nodded at Erica, Isaac and Boyd who nodded back.

“If you still have questions, come by tomorrow…” he glanced back at the house and grimaced, “or maybe the day after.”

Erica and Kira snickered.

“If you have questions before then, or if something happens, call me. I know I haven’t been the most…”

“Sane?” Jackson quipped.

Peter narrowed his eyes and then sighed. “Yes, alright, sane. But I will do anything to protect this Pack, to protect Stiles. The pups can give you my contact details. Reach out if something happens.”

He turned to the betas. “You remember what our Alpha said, don’t go near McCall. If you see him, walk away. Do not engage. He’s just going to get worse and you don’t want to start a fight at school.”

He turned back to the other four. “I’d suggest the same. Don’t instigate anything if you can avoid it. Danny, he doesn’t know about you and I wouldn’t tell him, it’ll just put a target on your back at this rate.”

Danny nodded. “I get it. We’ll stick together, Jacks and I and Liam and Kira. That’s what we were doing before, it won’t look odd.”

“Good. Call if something happens, howl if something really happens. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really don’t want to hear my Alpha’s having anymore sex.”

Peter made a half-disgusted, half-amused face and all but sprinted to his car.

Erica looked at Kira who looked back at her and then both girls smiled.

“Diner?”

“Diner.”

“Awesome, let’s get food, I’m starving.” Erica looped her arm in Kira’s as they pulled the others along after them.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

“Derek,” Stiles whined. Whined, like he was three and wasn’t getting his way, but he didn’t care, he needed Derek right this second and the wolf was actually moving away from him. Standing up and stepping away from the couch.

Fucking asshole.

“Are you seriously leaving, now?” he hissed, eyes flashing.

Derek gave him a shit eating grin and held out his hand.

“Are you seriously wanting to do this on the sofa where your father sits versus upstairs in your bed?”

“Oh.”

“Oh, yeah, come on, Stiles, I’m not fucking you on the couch our pups watch movies on.”

Stiles didn’t mention that they watched movies on his bed as well. He wasn’t stupid. He did however, trip over his own two feet in his haste to get up.

“Hey,” Derek caught him, pulling him in tight against his chest. “Hey, it’s okay, Sti. Just calm down.”

“I don’t think I can,” Stiles whispered. His heart was beating a mile a minute, his breath coming in too fast.

“Stiles, look at me,” Derek said sternly, eyes locked on Stiles. “You’re okay. We’re okay. Just breathe with me. One, two, three…good. You’re doing so good, Little Red. We’re all good, just breathe.”

Stiles took a ragged breath and then another. God, had the thought of actually having sex with Derek nearly sent him into a panic attack? Fuck, he was a loser.

“You’re not a loser, love, just excitable. Believe me, I get it. The idea of actually touching you…you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Derek groaned softly.

They stood in the living room, just holding each other while their heartbeats calmed down and they could breathe easier.

“You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s grab some waters and head upstairs. Dad’s working a double and tomorrow is Saturday which means we don’t have to be presentable until dinner.”

“Thank God,” Derek growled under his breath.

“Why, Mr. Hale, are you planning to have your wicked way with little o’me?” Stiles asked in the most atrocious Southern accent, hand on his heart and eyes wide and blinking comically.

Derek snorted, “You are ridiculous.”

“Yup!” Stiles said, laughing. He swatted Derek on the ass as he ran up the stairs, eliciting a growl and flash of Derek’s eyes.

He stopped to stare for a heartbeat and then turned and ran, yelping when Derek caught him and tossed him onto the bed, following him down and pinning him with his heavier body.

Stiles squirmed, “No fair wolf-handling the merchandise!”

“Oh, I’m going to handle you alright,” he purred right before he licked a long hot line up Stiles’ throat. He nipped at the teen’s chin as he grabbed both of Stiles’ arms and pulled them up over his head, wrapping those long fingers around the headboard.

“Keep them there.”

“Derek,” Stiles sighed on a breathless moan.

“I’m serious, Red. Keep your hands there.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Derek stared down into warm honey eyes, smiling softly. “I’ve never had this before.”

“Had what?”

“Fun, in bed, out of it. I don’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed. You’ve given me back my family, Stiles. Given me a Pack I can be proud of.”

Stiles went pliant in Derek’s arms. “They were always your Pack, Der. We all care about you.”

“Maybe, but this,” he waved a hand around the room, “having you has changed me, made me appreciate things more. I’ve never smiled this much, laughed as much as when I’m with you.”

Derek tugged their clothes off with quick efficiency, using his claws when zippers got in the way. Stiles was incredibly glad he hadn’t bothered with shoes. He heard the dull thump of his belt buckle hitting the ground and instinctively turned his head to follow the sound. When he looked back it was to the absolutely mouth-watering sight of one Derek Hale, naked and hovering above him.

“Fuck me, Der,” he breathed. “You are so damn beautiful.”

Derek’s eyes softened. He shook his head slowly. “I’m not the beautiful one, Stiles,” he murmured, bending down to breathe against Stiles’ mouth. He kissed him softly, almost reverently.

Stiles arched into the touch, tipping his head back onto the bed and moaning softly as Derek lightly dragged his teeth down the pale column of his neck. He placed a kiss in the small hollow at the bottom. “Derek,” he breathed out on a shaky sigh, his hands gripping the headboard with enough force to bruise.

Derek stopped and laid his head against Stiles’ heaving chest, breathing in the smell of him. He’d never heard his name said like that before. Almost like his voice was caressing him-wrapping him up in warmth and just holding him tightly. His voice was soft and warm and felt utterly of ‘home’.

“Oh God,” he panted, burying his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck he tried to calm himself down. He wanted to make this last as long as possible. Taking a deep breath, he glanced at Stiles. His kiss swollen lips were parted and slick; his eyes heavy lidded and glowing slightly. Sitting up he cupped the side of his face in his hands and took a shuddering breath. He kissed Stiles’ chin…the corner of his mouth…eyelids…temple....

Reaching up he curled one hand around the back of Stiles’ neck, fingers buried in the soft hair there while the other reached between them and smoothed down Stiles’ erection once, twice, three times until the boy was bucking up into his hand. He slid his hand down Stiles’ back, tracing the nubs of his spine as they trailed downward, finally resting on his hips.

Derek crawled up him, his weight bearing Stiles deeper into the bed until he could straddle Stiles’ thighs and rub his backside against Stiles’ crotch. Leaning over the surprised teen he gave his Alpha the most lust-filled look he’d ever seen.

“I want you, Sti…now…,” his voice was a low rumble—not quite a purr or a whine, but something deep and earthy, like the tones of a distant avalanche or something equally life threatening and completely exhilarating. Stiles wasn’t surprised to find that it made him harder than he ever thought possible; Derek seemed to push all his buttons without even trying.

“Shit, Der,” he whimpered, hips jerking in small circles without his consent.

Dragging sharp claws over the soft skin of Stiles’ inner thighs, he leaned over the bed and snagged the small bottle from Stiles’ night stand. He smirked down at the teen who just shrugged at the half empty bottle.

“What? My mate is a fucking GQ model, you think I haven’t gotten myself off thinking about you?”

Leaning back the older man smirked at Stiles. He ran his fingers over his own flesh, tracing the dark vein on the underside of his cock from the tip down to the base and back. Stiles couldn’t help but thrust up against all that tanned skin, an appreciative smile on his lips. Derek’s fingers ghosted over the hard lines of his chest and abdomen, a predatory grin splitting his face. Stiles swallowed nervously as Derek reached for his throat noticing that it was suddenly very dry.

“Derek,” his voice cracked despite his best intentions as those tan digits curled around the back of his neck once again, his eyes glowing a soft amber-red. Stretching, he licked a hot line from Derek’s jaw to his Adam’s apple. The edge of Derek's fangs denting the soft curve of his lips.

“Sorry,” Derek muttered, two spots of red high up on his cheeks as Stiles smiled at him tenderly.

“Don’t ever apologize for being who you are, Derek,” Stiles chastised lightly. “I love you. I love the man and the wolf and, other than the completely warranted confusion over where your eyebrows go, I find your beta shift fucking hot.”

Derek laughed softly, popping open the bottle and dribbling the cool, sticky liquid over his fingers before taking Stiles in hand.

“Oh fuck,” Stiles whimpered as strong fingers gripped him a little hesitantly, sliding over the head in teasing strokes. Derek scooted down his thighs until he could latch onto a dusky nipple with almost painful force, rolling the nub between his teeth and then lapping at it with his tongue to sooth the hurt away.

Stiles gasped roughly, his nails leaving dents in the wooden headboard as he rolled his hips up against Derek’s. Derek balanced across Stiles’ thighs as he reached up to pry one hand off. He twined his fingers with his mate’s and on a shaky breath, dribbled the remaining cold lubricant onto Stiles’ fingers.

The shock of the action made Stiles furrow his brow in worry. “Derek?” he murmured gently.

“I want you to do it, Stiles,” he whispered against his soft brown hair, his right-hand clutching Stiles’ hip like it was a life-line. “I can’t, not with the claws.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Whatever you want, Derek,” he answered truthfully, his slickened fingers sliding over his hip and along the crease while Derek kissed him hard. He thrust his tongue in Derek’s mouth as he pushed past the tight ring of muscle.

Derek gasped against his teeth, bucking up at the intrusion as Stiles whispered encouragement and endearments against the side of his panting mouth. “You okay, love?” he asked worriedly as a bead of sweat ran down Derek’s chin.

Tossing his head, Derek arched his back, rolling his hips and squirmed on the digit. With bright eyes he peered out from heavy lids, his voice a breathy gasp as he pushed back farther, “More.”

“Oh God, yeah, okay.” Stiles grunted as he pushed in farther up to the knuckle.

Derek gasped, twisting a bit until the finger brushed against the bundle of nerves buried inside him. This time he couldn’t help but mewl at the sensation as Stiles carefully added another finger, constantly stroking him inside and out.

Choking back a sob as Derek clenched around him, the velvet walls pulsed hotly as he slowly added a third finger, thrusting in and out with a steadily building pace. Stiles marveled at the sight of a flushed and panting Derek.

“Sti…” Derek whined, wriggling back against him beseechingly.

“I know Der, I know…” he placated. “You read…ah! Holy shit, Derek!” he cried out as Derek took his cock in hand and roughly impaled himself.

Derek used his knees to lever himself up and slowly back down; the rolling of his hips a counter to Stiles’ twitchy, shallow thrusts.

Breathing roughly through his nose, Stiles bit his bottom lip to help steady himself as wave after wave of rolling pleasure washed over him. Derek was so fucking tight and hot and fuck; at this rate it wouldn’t be very long before he lost it. He could already feel the slow burn inching up his spine as he struggled with not thrusting roughly into Derek.

“Stiles…” Derek warned, leaning over to nip at the lobe of his ear, his breath warm and moist as his tongue skimmed the shell. “I’m a werewolf. Don’t hold back. I’ll heal.”

“Just because you can heal, doesn’t mean you should have to,” Stiles growled back at him.

Derek palmed the side of Stiles’ chin, the roughened pad of his thumb rubbing softly across his bottom lip. “I want you to claim me.”

Stiles entire body shuddered at the words. “Derek, let me up,” he growled lowly.

Derek glanced down at the tone, Stiles eyes glowing so bright that were practically flames. He nodded.

Stiles pushed himself upright and thrust up hard into Derek. Using his hands to steady himself, he rolled his hips a few times. He braced a hand on Derek’s thigh, the other on his sweat slicked shoulder and rode him with a bruising force. The wet slap of their skin and grunts as they steadily moved faster and harder as they neared their mutual release.

“Now!” Derek growled, “do it now!”

Thrusting up into that tight, wet heat a few more times Stiles panted against Derek’s throat as he held him close. Snaking a hand between them he gripped Derek’s cock in time with his thrusts so that every rock of his hips pushed the twitching shaft into his fist. Smiling at the shudders that ran along the man’s spine he felt the heat in his belly pool lowly.

His tongue flicked out over the pulse point. He drew on his magic, felt his teeth sharpen minutely and with one last hard thrust, bit down, slicing through layers of skin until his mouth flooded with the hot, coppery taste of blood.

The bond exploded between them. Derek cried out, his body shaking with the force of his own release as hot strands of sticky cum spread between them. As soon as Stiles unclenched his jaw from Derek’s neck, the wolf shoved him back against the bed and latched onto his throat in the same manner, his fangs easily piercing the skin and completing the bond.

Stiles called out, his voice raw when Derek finally slumped against his sweaty chest, limp and utterly sated. The most he could manage was to press wet, sloppy kisses against Stiles’ temple and hair and breathe in the scent of their lovemaking.

“Fuck, that was….that was amazing, Der,” Stiles finally stammered out and though the compliment was mainly mouthed against Derek’s chest, he would have sworn he felt his mate smile against his temple. Stiles sighed at the feeling of Derek settling heavily against him.

“Nap?”

“Nap.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to…” Stiles soothed a long-fingered hand down Derek’s back and over the firm globes of his ass.

“You don’t know everything about me Stiles,” Derek sighed softly.

“No, but I want to,” Stiles said softly, eyes pulsing red in time with their heartbeats.

Derek glanced at him, his own newly minted Alpha's Mate eyes crimson and hooded. “You will. We have time.”

“I really hope so, Der,” he whispered as the other snuggled in closer. “I really fucking hope so.” He fell asleep to the warm weight of Derek in his arms and the feel of their hearts beating in unison.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

“I can’t wait until the house is built,” Isaac said at lunch the next day.

“What, tired of crashing on the living room floor?” Stiles teased.

Isaac’s grimace was comical. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. And I’d rather be at your place than in the loft alone, but still, privacy is a thing I really miss.”

Stiles nodded seriously. “I get that, Iz. Boyd and Erica still spend most nights at their parent’s places and with Peter crashing in the spare room and Derek with me, I can see how staying at the loft would be lonely.”

“I like when we do movie nights and everyone hangs out together in the living room,” the teen said softly. “I just wish we were already moved in.”

“I know, pup. It’ll be a few more months though. I can talk to dad, see if I can move back to the loft with you guys so you can have your own room again or maybe Peter could stay there with you. I honestly don’t know why he has an apartment if he’s never there.”

“He’s your Second, of course he wants to stay close. Besides, I don’t want you to do that. I mean, I don’t really feel safe at the loft, even when someone’s with me.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles leaned forward, frowning as he studied the beta.

“It feels cold. At your place, it always feels so warm. Like a big fluffy blanket is wrapped around me. I always feel like someone is watching me when I go by the loft.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed. Cold and the feeling of being watched were not good signs. He’d need to talk to Derek and maybe take a trip over himself since he hadn’t been back since he’d left the McCall Pack.

“Is Scott still using it?” he asked suddenly.

“No way, he…he wouldn’t be so stupid as to go to Derek’s place while he was gone, would he?”

“I have no idea, Iz. I’ll speak to Derek and Dad. We’ll figure things out. Maybe we can clean out the basement or something and make a room for you. I haven’t been down there in years.”

“Really? You’d really do that?” Isaac asked hopefully.

“Of course. I’m sorry I hadn’t thought of it before now. Would that be too much for you, being in the basement? The attic isn't really that big, but maybe we could...”

“No, that's fine," Isaac hastened to say. "I mean, if it was like before, then yeah, I probably couldn't handle it, but it's not. It's...I won't say I'm better, but knowing I can defend myself, and feeling the wards in the house, having everyone close...I'm okay. I like being close to everyone when they stay over, but most of the time it’s just me after dinner and then it gets harder. If I had a space that was mine, but that I knew was safe, then I'd be okay.”

“Alone but not private, safe, but not secure. No, I get it. We’ll work something out, I can ward the hell out of the space, make sure nothing looks like a basement and give you a real room. I promise, Isaac, you'll always be safe with us.”

Isaac ducked his head, cheeks flushing. “Okay. Thanks, Alpha.”

Stiles gave him a warm smile. “Not a problem, pup.”

Noah was a lot more accommodating than Stiles had thought when he mentioned cleaning out the basement.

“We should have done it years ago,” the older Stilinski said when Stiles brought him dinner that night at the station. “If we clean it out, there’d probably be enough space for two rooms, if you wanted to do that. Considering the speed Scott is losing them, it would probably be a good idea to have a back-up in place.”

Stiles nodded, “I hadn’t thought everyone would be over so much. I kind of figured it’s just be Derek and Isaac, but with Peter moving in and now Erica and Boyd hanging out after school most days, I get what Isaac was saying.”

“Any regrets?”

“About being their Alpha? No,” Stiles answered with conviction. “Sure, it’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it. They’re worth it.”

“And Scott? What are you going to do about that?”

Stiles grimaced, sliding down in his chair. “I don’t really want to fight him, dad. I mean, it’s Scott, we’ve been bros since diapers, but how he’s been acting? Fu…dge,” he amended quickly at his father’s throat clearing.

“He’s going feral?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Explain feral to me, what exactly does it mean? It can’t just mean being alone. I’m sure there are wolves all over the world without a large Pack.”

“Sure, but it’s more about the type of connection they have. Okay, so, if Scott was a Beta, he wouldn’t be this bad. Even if he was alone, if he had his mom or a good friend, he’d probably be okay, even if they are human. He’d be an Omega, but he wouldn’t be feral. But he’s an Alpha. His wolf is constantly driving him to make a strong Pack. On top of that, when a connection breaks, even a crappy one, it’s like losing a part of yourself.”

He tilted his head to the side and stared out his dad’s office window into the dark. “When we were a real Pack, the load was split between Derek and Scott. They each could take some of the pressure of making and keeping the Pack safe. That’s why most Packs are run by an Alpha Pair. They balance each other.

But every time Scott undermined Derek or Derek snapped at Scott, the connections got a little weaker, a little more divided between them until we were two Packs just trying to work together and that didn’t work because to do that, you need trust and they didn’t trust each other.”

“Derek’s lost Pack before and didn’t go feral. I would think losing family would be worse than a few kids you didn’t get along with before all of this happened,” his dad said slowly.

“Derek’s a born wolf. He’s only ever known what it meant to be Pack. To have those connections. And I think he kind of did, at least a little. Having Laura helped. And even if he didn’t realize it, he had Cora and Peter. He wasn’t completely alone. That and Derek is just stronger than Scott. Mentally, I mean. All the shi…stuff he’s gone through and he hasn’t broken. Scott freaks out if you disagree with him. He never wanted to be a wolf, but he is and you can’t make that just go away. He keeps fighting the wolf’s instincts to protect and care and he only focuses on the fighting and dominating part. They aren’t animals, regardless of what Scott thinks.”

“So, losing five beta wolves at the same time, and you, who has always had his back, has pushed him to the edge?”

“I guess. Right now, his Pack consists of Allison-human, Lydia-banshee, Liam and Jackson-wolves, and Kira-kitsune.”

“How many of those actually need to be in a Pack?”

“Two. Liam and Jackson. Kira could go either way, but she doesn’t need a Pack, just friends. Derek once said that an Alpha needs at least three wolves to even them out. I’m not sure why, but with just two, Scott’s more prone to violent mood swings, which makes him unpredictable.”

“Do you think he’d hurt those kids?”

“His Pack? God, I’d hope not. His wolf should want to protect them all the more because it should think they’re vulnerable, but we saw with Derek and Deucalion that it doesn’t always react that way. Some lash out, some don’t understand the consequences of pushing their own Pack, so abuse is a possibility.”

“I’m not liking the picture you’re painting, son.”

“I’m not liking it either, Pops.” He sighed wearily. “My bigger concern is what happens when Liam and Jackson and Kira do leave, because I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going to happen eventually.”

“How bad could he get?”

“The only answer for a feral Alpha is to put them down.”

Noah sat back heavily. “There’s no other way?”

“They’re too powerful and too out of control. Peter was feral when he attacked us in the beginning. It changes the wolf inside. He was not right when he shifted. Neither was Deucalion.”

“Peter’s fine now though.”

“I kinda set him on fire and Derek ripped his throat out. Death worked like a reset button for him, although there were definitely a few bugs left in the machine for a while there.”

Noah shook his head. “I still can’t believe you set a burn victim on fire.”

“Not my finest moment, I will give you that.”

“What about your magic?”

“What about it?”

“Is there any way to, I don’t know, minimize his feral-ness?”

Stiles sat back hard; his face completely blank. “I have no idea. Huh, maybe if…”

“What?”

“Nothing. I’ll do some research though.”

“Okay, son. You heading home now?”

Stiles stood, stretching. “Yeah. Derek just pulled up, so I’ll head home and get the others started on the basement. You okay if we store stuff in the garage for now?”

“Sure, or see if Derek would care if we used part of the loft for that until we can go through it.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea. I wanted to go over and check it out anyways. We can grab some more of their stuff when we do. Cool. Stay safe, Dad.”

“You too. Tell Derek, hi.”

“You got it!”

“This isn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Stiles said later that night. He was standing on the landing looking out over the basement. There were boxes, some broken furniture, tools, an old mattress that definitely needed to go, and the matching sofa to the upstairs set that had obviously been shoved down here because it didn’t fit upstairs.

“What do you want us to do?” Derek asked from beside him.

“First step is to just get rid of all the broken stuff and that nasty mattress. If someone could start checking boxes to see if they’re taped shut or not and move the ones that are into the garage, we’ll look at them later. Anything open, we need to check to make sure it’s not garbage, toss whatever is and combine and seal up the rest. We’ll re-evaluate afterwards.”

Derek nodded. He and Isaac started with the mattress. Peter grabbed an armful of broken furniture and Stiles tackled the open boxes. He blinked back tears when he realised most were his mom’s clothes.

“Stiles?” Isaac asked softly when he came back.

“It’s okay, Iz, just my mom’s stuff. I’ll get the roll of garbage bags and be right back.”

Isaac watched him go, glancing at Derek when the door clicked shut behind him. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah, Isaac, he just needs a minute to himself.”

“Okay.”

“Come on, let’s get these sealed boxes into the garage.”

When they’d moved most of the stuff out and Stiles had several bags full of his mom’s clothes for Good Will, they turned in for the night.

Derek pulled Stiles into his arms. “It’s a good thing, what you’re doing for Isaac.”

“I should have thought about it before.”

“You can’t think of everything, Stiles.”

“Debatable, but that brings up something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“Would you mind if we put some of the boxes into Isaac’s room at the loft so Dad can park the cruiser in the garage?” We need to get all his stuff and move it into the basement when we’re done anyways.”

“That’s fine.”

“And…uh…I was thinking we could maybe redo this room, you know, make it more of our room until the house is built.”

“Have you talked to Noah about this?”

“Sort of. He was the one that suggested we move stuff to the loft, which I need to check anyways, and it’s not like he doesn’t know we’re mated. I mean, we don’t talk about it, because I don’t ever want to talk to my dad about our sex lives, but you sleep here every night. He’s seen the marks. He knows we’re mates.”

Derek was quiet for several long moments. “I don’t have an issue with anything you said, Stiles, but I am going to speak to Noah separately, just to make sure he understands that you’re it for me. This is it. Our Pack is our family and when you turn eighteen I have every intention of making that official.”

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath. “Is that a proposal, Sourwolf?”

“We’re already married, Sti, but I’m pretty sure your dad would like an actual wedding, or at least City Hall. And I know Erica would love the chance to torment both of us with tuxes or something.”

Stiles sputtered, his brain short-circuiting at the mental image of Derek in a tux. “Holy shit, Derek, you can’t just say stuff like that to me.”

Derek smirked, shifting his hips to grind against Stiles’. “What was it the idea of me wearing a tux or the idea of you taking it off me?”

“Oh my God, Der, you’re killing me here!”

“Congratulations!” Isaac yelled from downstairs. “Now would you two shut up so I can sleep?!”

Stiles choked on a laugh, burying his face in Derek’s chest. “First thing tomorrow, we go over and tell Sam to add soundproofing to every room in the house.”

Derek chuckled, kissed Stiles sweetly and settled down to sleep.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

A beautiful girl with shimmering blue-black hair and dark chocolate eyes opened the door. Her olive skin seemed to glow slightly when the sun hit it just right. She raised a dark eyebrow at the three of them, then turned and belted loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear her.

“Tūtū! Aia ke ahi liʻiliʻi a me nā ʻīlio hae!”

An older woman, bent almost double over a large carved cane hobbled out of a back room. “Moʻopuna,”she chastised. “Why must you always be so loud? We should have named you Kaiholo.”

“That’s a boy’s name,” the girl said snidely.

“For one as loud as you, it would be appropriate. Now let the lapalapa iki in already and call your kaikunāne.”

The girl held the door open and waved the three in. “Come in, Danny’s told us all about you, so don’t worry. I’m Iolana, his older sister. This is my grandmother, Hōkūlani.”

Derek was the first through the door. He nodded at the older woman and did a quick, but thorough glance around the room, then stepped aside for Stiles to enter.

Stiles rolled his eyes at his mate’s dramatics, but Peter’s hand on his shoulder held him back from moving forward. The older man leaned down and whispered into his ear.

“Check the wards first.”

Stiles let out a long-suffering sigh, but let his magic waft out like ripples from a rock tossed into a lake. The house shuddered, seeming to expand and contract as if it was taking a deep breath. His eyes shifted to amber-red as he watched blue fire race up and over the building before sinking into the Earth.

“Oh, now that is so cool!” He gasped, practically dancing in place. He smiled broadly at Hōkūlani, his eyes still glowing. “You have got to teach me how you did that!”

The older woman gave a throaty laugh and waved them inside. “I would be honored, lapalapa iki.”

“Does that mean, Spark?” Stiles asked, following the older woman into the kitchen.

“Close enough,” she said, giving him a mischievous smile. “Danny has told us much about you. I have to admit, I did not think the same boy who has fought with Jackson since kindergarten would end up a Spark.”

Stiles grimaced. “Yeah, kinda came as a shock to all of us.”

Hōkūlani waved them to a large heavy wooden table with a dark blue tablecloth with bright pink hibiscus flowers on it. “Sparks are rare,” she said, starting a kettle boiling. “Your mother had a small amount of power; did you know that?”

“No,” he said, throat tight at the thought of his mom. Derek laid a comforting hand on his neck, squeezing lightly.

“I met her a few times. She was always so warm and bubbly. She used to volunteer to do story time in the library for you children. One time everyone was outside and all the birds and squirrels came out to see her,” she laughed, eyes distant in memory. “I remember asking her about it and she leaned in like we were sharing a secret and pulled birdseed and peanuts out of her pockets. But those pockets were empty a moment before. I felt the magic she used to make some appear.”

Stiles couldn’t help but smile, he could totally picture his mom doing that. “Did you tell her what you were?”

“No, but that didn’t stop her from finding out.” She sighed as she put a pot of tea on a tray along with five teacups, cream and sugar. Peter jumped up to collect them for her, flinching slightly when she patted him on the shoulder. “Such a good boy,” she muttered, making him flush and Stiles and Derek snicker softly.

“You must have been about five or six. I think it was the first time you and Jackson got in a fight. Danny tried to stop it, and in doing so, pushed you both far to roughly with his magic. You scraped a knee and Jackson broke his wrist. I remember your mother bringing all three of you here, since the Whittemore’s were never around.” She clicked her tongue at that before moving on.

“She knocked on the door but wouldn’t come in. When I offered, she did what you did, looked at the fire, but she just smiled and held you back, saying she couldn’t. She did say that she did what she could for Jackson’s wrist and when I checked, I could see that it had been broken, but between the fight and coming here it had become just a very bad sprain.”

“She healed it?” Derek asked.

“She accelerated the healing,” the older woman explained. “I don’t think she could actually heal him, but she could take a bit of the pain and help his body heal itself a bit faster.”

“Then why couldn’t she help herself when she got sick?” Stiles asked bitterly.

Hōkūlani sighed as she stirred milk into her tea, the dark liquid turning a warm brown. “Magic like that, healing magic, is almost impossible to do to oneself.” She gave Stiles a searching look. “You’ve done it though, haven’t you?”

“Um…a bit. Not like zombie level or anything, but I’ve shoved my ribs back together and stuff.”

Derek and Peter whined at that, making Stiles grimace. “No worries, Big Guy,” he said softly, reaching up to run his fingers through the hair at Derek’s nape. “It only happened once…okay, twice, but I’m not dead, so you know, yeah!”

Peter snorted, shaking his head while Derek growled and pulled Stiles in close against his side.

Hōkūlani smiled softly at the display. “You have a very protective mate,” she said, “your mother would have been very pleased.”

Stiles smiled back at her, his fingers tightening on Derek’s neck. “Yeah,” he said, glancing up at the older man. “He’s kinda awesome.”

Danny popped in a few minutes later to discuss Scott. “I dug around a bit into our family records like you asked, Stiles.”

“Yeah? Anything useful?”

“Possibly. I know you were thinking of just stripping him of his wolf,” at that both wolves growled, eyes flashing, “but that doesn’t look like it’s possible.”

“How so?”

“From what I read, taking the wolf completely will most likely kill the host.”

“Well, that sucks. Any other ideas?”

“I think you can do what Derek did, get him to give up the Alpha spark, or maybe even take it from him. That’s the big problem, right, his being an Alpha?”

“Yeah, but I have no idea if he’d be able to get it back since I haven’t been able to find jack on True Alphas,” Stiles groaned, slouching down in the kitchen chair.

“Who told you McCall is a True Alpha?” Hōkūlani asked.

“Deaton.”

She raised a grey brow, “The same Deaton who told you about sparks, but not that you were more powerful than he is? That Deaton?”

The others glanced at each other. “Uh, yeah, that Deaton,” Stiles finally said slowly.

“As a Druid and a former Emissary, Deaton should know better. I have never heard of being a True Alpha before Danny told me this. Now I wonder if there really is such a thing.”

Stiles leaned forward, “Do you think Deaton was lying?”

“I think if two born wolves have never heard of such a being, perhaps it is not quite what you have been told. Do you not still have connections you can check,” she asked Peter and Derek, “other wolves?”

Peter looked to Derek.

“I can email Richard and Mia,” Derek said. Glancing at his uncle. “If anyone would know, it would be the Patterson Pack.”

“Call them instead. I think it’s time we found out what was really happening around here.”

Derek nodded, standing. He glanced around the table, leaned down and kissed the top of Stiles’ head and stepped out of the room.

Stiles frowned at his retreating back and then turned back to the Mahealanis. “What do you know about the nemeton?”

Danny grimaced, “That messed up tree in the Preserve?”

“Yeah.”

He glanced at his grandmother who inclined her head. “When we came here, it was still standing. Dad said it was cut down about the same time as the Hale Fire. That it was because the tree was harmed that the fire was even possible.”

“A nemeton does not just become evil. It has to be poisoned. Tainted.” She grimaced, her dark eyes glowing a faint aqua. “Only one with magic can harm a nemeton. Natural disasters and humans will not harm it, but someone with magic…”

Stiles straightened in his chair, his eyes going diamond hard. “Someone like a druid?”

The two wizards returned his grave look.

“That son of a bitch,” Peter breathed out, eyes flashing.

“Hold on, Peter,” Stiles cautioned, “we don’t know for certain that it was Deaton.”

Peter levelled a look at his Alpha.

“Not for certain. I dislike the guy as much as you do, but I’m not going to rip his throat out without proof.”

“You’ve been cleansing the tree; does it feel like his magic?” The older wolf asked.

Stiles shrugged. “It feels twisted and dark. Honestly, it reminds me a lot of VOID, but that’s probably because it was imprisoned there for so long.”

Stiles turned to Hōkūlani. “Could VOID’s power have leached into the tree itself?”

The older woman leaned heavily against the table. “A kitsune itself is not the most powerful of the weres, but VOID, as you call it, was a thousand years old. Age alone gave him power. A nogitsune is corrupt by its very nature, that is why there aren’t many of them and the other kitsune’s typically keep them in check.” She patted Danny’s hand. “Go get the small red journal from my nightstand.”

Danny jumped up to do as she bid. Stiles and Peter could hear him passing Derek as the wolf re-joined them.

“I spoke to Mia, who is threatening to fly out here if she doesn’t hear from us every day until this thing is fixed.” He snarled at his phone; eyes narrowed like he could reach through it.

Stiles laughed out loud. “I would absolutely love her to visit when we aren’t in mortal danger.” He tugged Derek back into his vacated seat. “Did she have any insights?”

“She said she’d never heard of one, but she’d check a few sources and text me by tomorrow evening. She did say she remembered Laura mentioned Mom and Deaton had a fight about a local witch though.”

He looked toward Hōkūlani. “Was that you?”

“No,” the woman shook her head. “As matriarch, I spoke to your mother before we moved here. Talia did not have an issue with us as long as we stayed out of Pack business and helped to defend the town should the need arise. I agreed, but she never called on us. After a while, it seemed like she even forgot what we were.”

“I don’t remember that,” Peter said, frowning.

“It was around the time Iolana was born, so about twenty years ago, I suppose.”

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, the Pack bond tightening dangerously. Stiles' eyes snapped to Peters'. He was up and around the table before anyone could register that he’d moved. He crouched down in front of the wolf, his hands resting on Peter’s knees.

“What is it, Peter? What happened?”

“High school….”

“High…oh, twenty years ago you would have been what, seventeen?”

Peter whined lowly making Stiles’ eyes go wide. He stood and wrapped his arms around the wolf. “What happened in High School, Peter?” he asked softly.

“I…I met Christopher. The family had just moved to Beacon Hills and he transferred into my Home Room.”

“Chris Argent?” Derek asked, confused.

Peter’s jaw clenched as he tried to keep from throwing up. “I didn’t know he was a hunter and he didn’t know I was a wolf and when we found out, it didn’t matter. Not to us, but then our families found out.”

He looked up into Derek’s eyes, his own brimming with remorse. "Talia was already the head of the family. She went to Gerard and told him to keep his son away from us. Gerard retaliated by hunting me through the school. Chris tried to stop them, but Talia was the one that got to me first. All I saw was Gerard forcing Christopher to take his crossbow before Talia told me to run.”

Stiles curled himself around the older wolf protectively. “He never spoke to me again. He just sided with his family, like we didn’t matter.”

He clutched Stiles' back, claws tearing the material of his red hoodie, but Stiles didn’t care. His beta was torn up inside, his thread vibrating at such a chaotic level Stiles knew instinctively what Peter wasn’t saying.

“He’s your mate, isn’t he?” he asked softly.

Peter whined lowly, burying his face in his Alpha’s neck in response while Derek growled in anger and hurt. No wonder Peter had lost his mind after the fire. How the hell he’d managed so long without his mate was beyond Derek.

“What about Aunt Samantha?” he asked suddenly, stopping to look down at his uncle.

“Not now, Der,” Stiles hissed, eyes flashing as he looked up through messy fringe.

“But…”

Stiles full on werewolf growled at his mate. “Not. Now.”

Derek’s nostrils flared as he took in the combined scents of his Pack. Peter smelled miserable. Broken even. While Stiles’ smelt agitated and defensive. He also smelled guilty, which made Derek pause, doubt creeping in.

Stiles’ head snapped up as he locked eyes with his mate. He pushed concern down their bond and a feeling of apology and love.

“Powiem ci w domu. Zaufaj mi,” he muttered softly, the amber-red bleeding into his normal whiskey brown.

Derek’s eyebrows pulled low, but he slowly nodded. “Ufam ci.”

Stiles gave him a small smile. “We need to work on your pronunciation.”

Derek growled softly at the comment but took it for what it was. He didn’t actually think Stiles would ever betray him, but not tell him something? Yeah, that he had every confidence his mate would do if he thought it was for Derek’s benefit.

At that moment Danny stopped in the kitchen doorway. “Uh…what’d I miss?”

“Existential crisis. What else is new in this town?” Stiles quipped back, soothing a hand through Peter’s hair. The older wolf visibly pulled himself back together.

Danny handed the small leather journal to Hōkūlani, who had gotten up to give the Pack some time together. She set a fresh pot of tea on the table, then handed Stiles the journal.

“I have kept a journal since I came into my powers almost seventy years ago. This is from the time you were asking about. My memory isn’t what it used to be, but maybe you can find something in here to help.”

Stiles gaped at the woman. He smoothed long fingers over the carved leather, frowning at the simple leather band tying it shut.

“It’s spelled, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She reached across and tapped the cover twice. “E ʻōlelo i ka "hoaaloha" a komo.”

“Um…I’m not going to remember that,” Stiles muttered.

The smirk she gave him reminded him of Danny. “Mellon.”

“Mellon?” Stiles stared at the assembled group, but it was Derek who started laughing. “What am I missing?”

“Mellon. As in ‘friend’. Speak ‘friend’ and enter.” He snorted a laugh at the incredulous look on Stiles’ face and the twin grimaces on Peter and Danny’s.

“Lord of the Rings, really? Oh my God, Danny your grandma is the absolute best!” Stiles cackled gleefully.

“I enjoyed the Elves. Snarky little things,” she explained lightly.

“This is awesome. Can I come by and ask you more questions later?” Stiles asked as he stood, the others following his lead.

“Of course, let me show you the protective rune before you leave.”

“That’s what called the fire?”

“Yes, you write it like this on every lintel and infuse who can come and go into it or you can just say anyone that you consider Pack. But you must be careful, because if you think of someone as Pack and they betray you, it won’t work on them.”

“Can I just make it more general, like anyone wishing to harm us?”

“Yes, that is another way to do it.”

“But my mom didn’t mean you any harm.”

“Your mother didn’t cross because she meant us harm, she did it, I think, to protect your secret.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were with her. If she had crossed the wards, I would have felt how powerful she was and since you were with her, I would have felt you as well. I think that’s the real reason she kept you away.”

“Huh. Okay, well, thank you for talking to us and for the book. I’ll get it back to you as soon as I can.”

She waved as the three stepped out onto the porch. “Take your time. I lived it; I don’t need to look at it again.”

Peter went to get the car started, but when Stiles and Derek stepped away from the house, Stiles felt a sharp tug on his hand holding the journal. He slipped into the back seat and flipped the book open. In beautiful script across the first page was a message he was certain wasn’t there before.

Lapalapa iki, whatever happens, believe in yourself all the way, implicitly and unquestionably. Sparks are defined by their belief. It is the only way to survive.

Stiles stared at the page the entire drive home. He had a feeling that was what everything would come down to.

Belief.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Belief is easier said than done.

Stiles stared at the broken teens; his face completely blank. Liam was holding an unconscious Kira in his arms, blood caked along his jaw and throat, deep furrows still visible. Danny limped beside Jackson, whose eyes were electric blue. His claws dented Danny’s flesh where his shirt had been rent, but the boys’ hands were gentle as he lowered his friend to the couch in the Stilinski’s living room.

Erica had taken one look, gasped harshly, and raced into the bathroom for the med-kit. Boyd and Derek were taking pain where they could. Isaac was on the phone to Melissa in the kitchen.

Peter stood beside Stiles with a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“He’s dead.”

“Now sweetheart…” Peter started, stopping when Stiles turned blazing eyes on him, his voice dropping to a sibilant hiss-growl that made all the weres whine.

“He. Is. Dead.” Stiles repeated slowly, emphasizing the full stops. Scott had gone too far this time.

“Melissa is on her way,” Isaac said from the kitchen doorway. “Your dad, too. He said not to do anything until he gets here.”

Stiles didn’t bother responding. He walked over to Liam and pressed his hand against the claw marks on his throat and cheek. Liam hissed, trying to pull back, but Stiles’ other hand came up to hold his head firmly. “Don’t move.”

Liam froze at the command. It was the first time Stiles had ever Alpha-voiced him and it shook him to his core. Scott was dangerous in an unhinged way. Stiles was dangerous in an ice-cold murder-you-in-your-sleep sort-of way.

The tips of his fingers burned orange. Liam could smell skin burning, but his entire face was numb. There was pressure, then a coldness that spread over his wounds. When Stiles pulled back his hand the skin was unmarred and clean, not even a hint of blood on his flesh.

Stiles stroked a finger over the area and nodded once, then turned to Danny and Jackson and repeated the process. Finally, he kneeled beside Kira, a hand on either side of her head.

He closed his eyes and sent his spark inside her, seeking the problem, finding a dark grey ichor spreading from a little cut inside her right elbow. He pushed her shirt sleeve up and bent down to take a deep breath. His nose crinkled.

“Derek.”

Derek crossed the room silently, kneeling beside his mate.

“Fox Lichen?” Stiles asked.

Derek leaned in close and sniffed, pulling back quickly as he started sneezing. “Yeah.”

“Erica, give me the small green vial in the med-kit.”

“Here.” Erica said, handing over the glass container.

He nodded his thanks and looked to Derek and Liam. “Hold her down, this is going to hurt.”

Derek took his place at her feet while Liam took her shoulders. Stiles pried her mouth open and forced her to drink the contents. Kira’s eyes snapped open, bright orange as her fox fought them. Stiles leaned over her, almost straddling her as he forced her to swallow.

“Drink!” he commanded over her thrashing body. Electricity arched; light bulbs burst as her body bowed itself almost in half. “Kira, drink, damn it!”

Kira screamed as dark lines raced down her throat towards the infected cut. Stiles pushed his spark along those same lines, his forehead pressed against hers as her eyes flashed and fangs gnashed at the air.

The sound of cloth tearing marked the destruction of another couch cushion. He heard Derek grunt and felt a quick bead of pain along their bond when one of Kira’s feet got loose. He couldn’t look at his mate, he had to focus his entire attention on Kira. The poison had entered her blood stream. It had been a small nick, not much had gotten in, but it was enough. If he had been a few minutes later she wouldn’t have made it.

He placed a line of Amber-red energy around her heart, believed it would keep her safe as the antidote and his magic burned the poison from the inside out. It took long minutes before she calmed enough to fall into a fitful sleep.

Melissa and Noah pulled into the drive not long after.

“What happened,” the Sheriff demanded. Melissa went straight to Kira’s side to check her vitals. They were weak, but steady. She’d survive, this time.

“Scott cornered us after lacrosse practice and he attacked. He just went for Liam like he was a pit dog,” Jackson spat, anger making his eyes flash. “I don’t even know what happened to Kira. One minute she was trying to pull Scott off him and the next she was on the ground convulsing.”

Peter stepped up close to the couch, one eye still on Stiles. He leaned down and sniffed the kitsune. Growling he stood, anger making his eyes flicker electric blue. “Allison.”

Stiles smoothed a hand over Kira’s hair as he stood. His eyes were diamond hard and a deep, almost bloody amber-red.

“Son,” the Sheriff warned, stepping closer. A warning growl made him stop. Stiles’ lips curled back to reveal small, almost dainty fangs. Peter sucked in a sharp breath as equally dainty claws eased their way out of Stiles’ fingers. They might not look it, but the older were knew just how razor sharp both would be.

Stiles features shifted. Not a full Beta shift, just a sharpening of already sharp cheekbones and chin. A subtle difference, but a pointed one.

“Stiles?” Peter asked slowly, easing himself upright.

A growl was his only response.

“What…”

Peter slashed a hand through the air, silencing Noah.

“Alpha.” He stepped around the couch with slow, measured steps. “Alpha,” he repeated, baring his throat when Stiles turned those deadly eyes his way. “You’re scaring the pups. They need you to calm down.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Peter, the low growl reverberating in his chest. Peter held up his hands palm out, his eyes downcast and throat barred. “Alpha, the pups need you.”

Stiles’ lips curled again. He took a shuddering breath, his eyes closing as he reined himself in. The Pack held their collective breath as Stiles got himself under control.

When he was confident he wouldn’t lash out at the others, Stiles looked around the room, his eyes landing on Peter.

“Next time, don’t stop me, Peter.”

Peter inclined his head. “Yes, Alpha.”

Stiles turned on his heel and stomped out the back door. Derek stood to go after him, but Peter placed a hand on his arm. “Give him a minute.”

“What was that?” Liam asked, eyes wide. “I thought her wasn’t a were?”

“He’s not,” Peter said. He settled in Noah’s armchair.

“Sure looked like he was,” Boyd said unconvinced.

“Stiles is a Spark. That means he can manifest his powers in any way he thinks he can. Allison tried to kill Kira. Scott attacked the rest of you. I can’t be certain, but I imagine he wanted to hurt them back the same way.”

“With claws and fangs,” Isaac said hesitantly, arms wrapped around his chest. Erica reached over and pulled him in between her and Boyd. She rubbed a hand through his curls soothingly.

“Probably,” Peter grimaced, then schooled his face and turned to Jackson, Danny, and Liam. Kira was still unconscious and would likely remain that way for a while. “Did you renounce him as Alpha?”

Liam snorted, “We never got the chance.”

“What, exactly happened?”

“We’d finished lacrosse practice and were waiting for Kira to finish up. Lydia stopped us at the door and said there was a Pack meeting at McCall’s. She said to bring Danny, that Scott knew about him and he wanted to talk. Jackson didn’t want to.”

“Hell no, Danny wasn’t part of this, he didn’t need to be there,” Jackson bit out. Danny rubbed a soothing hand down his arm.

“We told her that and then Scott was just there, in our face, saying how we were traitors just like you. That we kept secrets from our Alpha. Since Danny knew about the Pack, he had to be part of it. When Jackson refused, he attacked.”

“He got a few good swipes at Jackson before Liam knocked him off him. That didn’t help. He tore into Liam and when Kira came out and tried to help, Allison grabbed her. She went down hard and started convulsing.” Danny explained.

“Danny did something with his magic that threw them away from us and we managed to get to Jackson’s car and get out of there. We didn’t know where else to go,” Liam finished quietly.

“You did good,” Stiles said from the back door. The Pack jumped to their feet at his voice. It was rough, like he couldn’t quite get the growl out of it. His eyes still glowed, but the claws and fangs were gone. He crossed the room to the two wolves and wizard. His fingers trailing over the backs of his betas as he walked. They visibly slumped at his touch.

He clasped Liam’s shoulder. “You did good, pup; protecting your Packmates and getting them out of a dangerous situation.”

“He was crazy, Stiles. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but that isn’t Scott.” Liam said dejectedly.

“He’s feral, Liam,” Stiles explained.

“Can he be saved, Stiles?” Melissa asked from beside Noah.

Stiles sighed, “If he’s attacking his own Pack, he’s too far gone. I’m sorry, Melissa.”

Melissa stifled a sob against Noah’s chest. “There’s nothing you can do? What about taking his wolf?”

“It’ll kill him. I’ve been reading up, researching different options with Danny and Peter’s help. There’s one thing I can try, but it’s almost as risky.” He turned to the woman who’d been a second mother to him. “I can’t promise it won’t kill him either.”

“But there’s a chance?”

“It’s small. Very small.”

“It’s better than nothing, Stiles. He can’t keep hurting people, but he’s still my son.”

Stiles walked over and gave her a tight hug. “I know.”

“When will you do it?”

“I need a few days to get ready. There are some ingredients I’ll need to go out of town for.”

“How far?” Noah asked.

“Tahoe.” He glanced at Derek, his eyes burning. “I need to speak to Satomi.”

Derek was on his feet the same time Peter was. “No, Stiles, no!” “Red, no.”

“We don’t have a choice, Der,” Stiles said, passing Melissa back to his father. “The only way to strip Scott of his power without killing him is with VOIDs' help.”

“There has to be another way,” Peter said, eyes wide. Derek snarled, his face in beta shift as he paced restlessly beside his uncle.

“There isn’t.” He walked over to his mate and his Second. His hands out to both men beseechingly. “I’ve done the research. You’ve read Hōkūlani’s journal. You know VOID can be bargained with.”

“For a price, Stiles!” Derek snapped. “A price I’m not willing to pay.”

“But I am,” Stiles said quietly. He stepped closer to Derek, tugging the older man in against his chest. “I have to try, Der. He was my brother once. He wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t dragged him out that night. I need to stop this.”

“Why you?” Derek breathed, his entire body shaking. “Why is it always you?”

Stiles pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Because I’m the Alpha,” he smirked.

Derek rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Red.”

“I know. But this is something I have to do because it’s something I can do. I’m a Spark, Der. I can do this.”

“I can’t lose you,” Derek grumbled.

Stiles put all of his faith and confidence into his words. Willing it to be true. Believing it. “You won’t.”

“I have to admit, Alpha Stilinski,” Alpha Satomi Ito said from her chair. “This seems like a very foolhardy plan.”

Stiles nodded. Derek and Erica had accompanied him to Satomi’s cabin by Lake Tahoe. He’d left Peter watching over the Pack.

Jackson, Danny, and Liam had all formally submitted. Danny had to take the day off school since his eyes wouldn’t go back to brown for almost 48hours. Liam had turned a bright red and then promptly jumped on Stiles like he’d been hyped up on all the sugar in the house and refused to stop cuddling for most of the night. Jackson had simply closed his eyes for a long moment, leaning into Stiles’ space. When he’d stepped back, there was a sense of calmness and surety about him that hadn’t been there before. Kira was still unconscious. Stiles wasn’t happy about that, but when he checked with his spark, he didn’t feel like anything was wrong beyond her needing to rest.

“It’s a Hail Mary,” Stiles agreed. “Unless you have another option, this is the play we’ve got.”

Satomi sighed, shifting to sit lower in her chair. “Noshiko called on VOID to get revenge on our captors, and you know how that worked out. She offered him chaos and death. You offer what? What could you give him that he would want?”

“Freedom.”

“No,” Satomi said harshly, standing. “No, letting him loose will cause mass destruction. He might help you or he might turn on you and destroy your Pack and then go on another killing rampage. What guarantee would you have? He’s a fox. A trickster.”

“And I’m a Spark,” Stiles said quietly, hands raised in supplication, as if being a Spark solved everything.

Satomi glared at him. “Being a Spark means nothing against a thousand-year-old chaos spirit.”

“It means I can integrate,” Stiles stood as well, Derek and Erica growling quietly at his back when she spun to face him incredulously.

“You would risk that for a feral?!”

“No,” Stiles stepped down off the porch. He glanced back over his shoulder at her. “I would risk that for my brother. For the son of one of my Pack. For my town.” He looked to Derek and Erica. “For my Pack, I would risk everything.”

“Yet Alpha McCall is not in your Pack.”

“You’re right, but as long as he’s a wolf, my Pack isn’t safe.”

“Then take his wolf.”

“You know that will kill him.”

“Better him dead than you possessed once more,” she said savagely.

“Better the monster you know,” Stiles returned. “You know, I once heard that Hell was a man-made place. I think I get that now. We all have the potential to be devils or to be heroes. I’m no hero, but I’ll gladly become a demon if it means I save my family.”

“Nothing good will come from this,” Satomi said resigned.

“Perhaps and perhaps I’m stronger than you think,” the teen said.

“You’ll have to be,” Satomi groaned. She reached under her collar and pulled out a small key, tossing it to Derek. “Your mate is making a mistake.”

Derek shrugged, even while his stomach flipped, but his heart was steady. “He’s my Alpha and my mate. I trust him with everything in me.”

She gave him a long, searching look. “Then pray for him. All of you. You’ll need it. The demon is locked in a cave off Route 89, just south of Silver Peak. There’s a warded area. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I think this is a foolish endeavor and if I see you again, we will attack. Do not come back here, Alpha Stilinski.” With that Satomi turned and walked into the house, the door slamming closed in her wake. Stiles blew out a breath, his face turned to the sky.

“Well, that sucked,” Erica said grimly.

“Could have gone worse.”

“How?”

“She could have attacked at the beginning.”

“Well, that’s a cheery thought, Batman.”

Stiles barked out a strangled laugh. “Yeah, I’m just full of them, aren’t I?” he asked, watching Derek walk towards him. Derek held the key like its mere presence offended him. Hell, it probably did. The wolf was not happy with this plan.

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles and pulled him in against his side, holding on tightly.

“Is there really no other way?”

“We’ve been through this, Der. Other than killing him, no.”

Derek was quiet as they walked back towards the Toyota. “I’d do it, if I could,” he finally said.

“Kill Scott or make a deal with VOID?”

Derek grimaced. “Both.”

Stiles leaned over the console and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I know you would and I love you for it, but this is my responsibility.”

“Technically, it should be Zombiewolfs’.” Erica chimed in.

Stiles flicked her off as he pulled onto the highway going north. “VOID in Peter, yeah, like that would go over well.”

“Better than in my Alpha,” Erica snarked, a petulant pout on her face.

“Erica…”

“I know, I know, but I agree with Der, this sucks, and we all wish you wouldn’t do it.”

“I know,” Stiles said a few minutes later. “I know this is a bad plan, but it’s the only plan we have. I can’t let any of you get hurt.”

“VOID is not going to make this easy.”

Stiles barked out a bitter laugh at that. “When has he ever made anything easy?”

“Well, this is surprisingly easy,” Stiles said two hours later.

The nemeton wood container shook in his hand. “Knock it off,” Stiles said, shaking it slightly.

“Don’t jinx us, Batman,” Erica warned, eyes flashing beta gold as she watched their path back to the Toyota.

Derek paced behind them, watching their back trail. Stiles couldn’t sense anything around except for some deer, so the protection seemed overkill, but then again, it was VOID.

He placed the container on the hood of the SUV and wrapped his long fingers around it. “Okay, here’s the situation. You and I need to come to an agreement. An actual one, or I walk your glow-stick ass right back into that hole and toss the key in the Lake.”

The box shook violently.

Stiles huffed out a harsh breath. “Der?”

“I’m here, Red,” Derek said, stepping up behind him, his arms on either side of Stiles’ body, trapping him against the hood of the vehicle.

“I’m going to send a bit of my spark inside and talk to him. I need you to monitor us, if it looks like things are going sideways, pull me out.”

Derek nodded. “You’ll be okay, Stiles. I believe in you.”

Stiles leaned back against Derek’s broad chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He took a deep breath and blew it out. His fingers tightened on the box as his eyes glowed.

‘Hello, Stiles.’

VOID.

‘I knew you’d be back.’

I’m not here to rehash old times, VOID.

‘Then what do you want?’

I have a proposition for you.

‘Oh?’

You want a body; I’m offering you one.

VOID walked around Stiles, like a predator sizing up his prey, but Stiles was nobody’s prey. He turned to VOID; his eyes glowing.

I’m offering a shared real estate. You help pull all of Scott’s power, his Alpha spark, and his wolf, WITHOUT killing him and you and I join forces, permanently.

‘I could just take you.’

Stiles shrugged. You could try. We’d fight it out and, in the end, I’d banish your ass, for real this time. Or, you can play nice and we can actually get shit done. Make the monsters stop.

‘Oh, Stiles,’ VOID gave him a breathy laugh, ‘don’t you know we’re the worst monsters?’

Stiles gave him a smile that was more of a baring of sharpened teeth than anything else. He raised a clawed hand. ‘I know. Do we have a deal?’

VOID cocked his head, clicking his tongue against sharpened teeth. He gave a drawing smile and raised a bandaged hand.

‘We have a deal, little Spark.’

-tbc-

Chapter Text

After the initial meeting with Hōkūlani, Stiles pulled Derek outside to the back porch. He sent a line of orange light around them, sealing off the area from the others' hearing.

“I owe you an explanation,” he said, settling down on the porch steps.

Derek shifted uneasily. “You know something, about Uncle Peter.”

Stiles blew out a breath. “Yeah. It wasn’t my secret to tell and he never wanted you to know, but I won’t lie to you, not ever, so if you ask me, I’ll tell you.”

The older man huffed out a breath as he settled heavily against the teen. “Is it bad?”

“Yeah, Der, it’s bad.”

“I don’t want to know, do I?”

“Probably not, but should you, so you can understand?” He opened his hands in beseechment. “I’m not sure.”

“Tell me.”

“Derek…”

“Stiles, please,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “Tell me.”

“Samantha was pregnant.”

Derek’s breath exploded from his lungs. He gave a sharp, painfilled whine that tore at Stiles heart. God, he hated that all he seemed to do was make things worse for Derek. For this loving, amazing man he was so proud to claim as his mate. He wrapped long arms around Derek’s shoulders, pulling him into the v of his legs. He rubbed soothing hands up and down his spine, rocking him slightly as he mumbled nonsensical words into his dark hair.

“It’ll be okay, Der. I promise. I’m here, Peter doesn’t blame you. He never wanted you to know, I swear he doesn’t blame you.”

“He should,” Derek cried out. “He should blame me, you all should!”

“No.” Stiles said, voice hard and unyielding as he gripped Derek’s chin to make him look into Stiles' eyes. “No, he shouldn’t. We shouldn’t and we don’t. We don’t blame you for being a victim, Derek.”

Derek growled at the word.

“Do you blame me for VOID?”

Derek sat back; eyes wide like he’d been slapped. “What?”

“Do you blame me for killing all those people, for almost killing Allison and Aiden?”

“No, God, no, Stiles, we know that wasn’t you.”

“And your family wasn’t because of you! It was all that bitches’ fault, so lay the blame on who deserves it. You were not to blame. Peter knows this, I know this. The Pack knows this.”

He tugged Derek in against him, rubbing his chin against a stubbled jaw. “It’s time to let it go, Der. We have enough blood on our hands. Don’t take this on too.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“I’m here. Peter is here. The Pack is here. We all just want you happy, Derek, and no matter what happens next, you will always have me.”

Derek stood stock still, his arms caging Stiles' body, while his mind slid along their bond. A shadow watching, listening as Stiles laid the situation out for VOID. ‘Shared real estate.’ God, he hated the idea of that monster in his mate’s head, but Stiles was right, this was the only way.

Scott, fuck, Scott was a damn menace and if he had his way, he’d rip the kid’s throat out with his teeth and be done with it. But he’d felt Melissa’s terror, her pain and fear over her only child - her family – and knew he couldn’t do that to her. He refused to be like the Hunters. Killing because they weren’t willing to look for an alternative.

This whole plan was to save Scott, who didn’t deserve it. Stiles knew it was a longshot, that VOID could try and double-cross them at any point, but that was why Derek was here, shadowing his thoughts, keeping a part of Stiles away from the fox. Stiles trusted Derek in his mind, he did not trust VOID.

Derek listened as they struck a deal, felt the first faint merging of powers – shadow and flame – felt the rush as Stiles took VOID into himself, and the backwash of power as VOID did the same. He felt their emotions line up, their thoughts. It should worry him how easily they did. The darkness in VOID finding a ready home in the more brutal aspects of Stiles’ personality. The hit first, hit hard, don’t worry about the questions part of him that came out when someone he cared about was in danger.

Derek couldn’t fault him for that, he was the same. Family first, last, and only, was his own motto. A truth that can never be hidden. What surprised him, though, was how easily Stiles’ light slid in to fill up all the cracks in VOID. He could almost feel the tension draining out of the fox.

Integration.

‘Hoʻohuihui’ in Hawai’ian. Such an innocuous little word that could also mean ‘combination.’ That’s what Hōkūlani’s journal had said. That a nogitsune and a spark had the ability to integrate, to combine, if they could find a common path.

It was just a thread of a notation. Barely three lines in the entire book, but Stiles had found it and run with the idea. To integrate did not mean giving up oneself, it meant acknowledging the holes and filling them in with another.

Similar to a mating bond actually.

Derek hadn’t liked that comparison. He didn’t like the idea of someone else inside Stiles, figuratively or not. Stiles had said it wasn’t like a bond bond, but the ability to feel when something was wrong, the desire to fix that wrongness and make the other stronger through support. Derek hadn’t really understood until this moment though.

Until he felt the harsh cruelty of VOID ease back, become something more understandable. He was hurting. He had been hurting for a long time now. VOID didn’t create chaos because he wanted to, but because he’d been conditioned to only respond to another’s pain. He was empty inside, a gnawing craving that he couldn’t fill with anything but fear and pain.

Stiles’ spark filled those empty holes. Derek pushed his own emotions down their bond, adding understanding, compassion, even forgiveness. The emotions burned brighter, hotter, filling in the cracks like molten gold, shimmering in the darkness of VOID’s soul where it merged with Stiles'.

To his mate he pushed all his love, his unwavering support and belief, his awe and pride at what he could do, what he was willing to do for one that had harmed him so grievously in the past. He felt Stiles shudder in his arms, his soul soaking up Derek’s warmth and understanding. So much compassion and understanding he felt full to bursting with it.

The cracks filled slowly. Scabbed over and finally healed. The darkness inside Stiles took on the shade of shadow and moonbeam, instead of the nothingness of oblivion. He wasn’t the same, but he wasn’t really any different. There would be a learning curve, they both knew that, but when Stiles opened his eyes, the flicker of yellow was like flecks of gold amongst the red-amber and Derek knew his mate was in control.

“I love you,” Derek said breathlessly, his lips hot and hard against Stiles’ as he pressed them close.

Stiles gave a little smirk. “I know.”

Derek rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “Dork. Are you okay?”

“We’re…I think so. It’s strange. I can feel him inside. He’s still there, separate, and yet not.”

“I could feel you. Both of you. He just sort of slid in.”

“Yeah. I think that was scarier than anything else, how easily we fit together.”

“He’s not total chaos,” Derek said hesitantly, unsure if he was explaining himself correctly.

“Chaotic neutral,” Stiles said. “Like me. I can be cruel when I need to be. I can be maddeningly crazy and he’s the same. I think, God, this is going to sound so cliché, but I think he just needed to feel love. He was like me, before Scott, before you. I was empty and hurting and I lashed out at everyone after my mom. I hurt a lot of people, myself included, back then.”

“And now?”

Stiles turned in Derek’s arms, wrapping his own around his shoulders, long fingers toying with the short hairs at the back of his neck. “Now I know what love is. I’m surrounded by it. By you and the Pack. I can feel each and every one of you connected to me. Trusting me, caring for me and for each other. It grounds me and that grounds him.”

“It feels weird, talking about the two of you like this.”

“It won’t be forever, Der. We’re still settling into each other. Still sort of separate. Once we finish the integration, it’ll just be me. Us, man, yeah, that’s weird. I’m going to have to start thinking of alternative pronouns at this rate.”

Derek groaned, he didn’t care about the pronouns, he cared about his mate and the other being merging with his soul.

“It’ll be okay, Derek,” Stiles said gently, "VOID and I, we know where the other stands. We’re a package deal now. I get it, so much more than before.”

“How?”

“Because all those places you feel him in my soul? I’m in just the same amount of his. I can see his memories. Feel his hurt and betrayal. He’d genuinely wanted to help Noshiko and Satomi. He had liked Rhys and was furious when they betrayed him. He could almost forgive Noshiko, overcome with grief, but Satomi burned them and left them for dead. In the end, he took over so Rhys couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He went after the guards like the wrath of God and he would have stopped when they were all dead, if Noshiko hadn’t stabbed him. The hurt, the pain and betrayal, it was too much. He was left with nothing and he lashed out. Tried to hurt them too.”

“Like Peter and the Alpha Pack.”

“Yeah. Betrayal and pain fuck the best of us up,” he laughed humorlessly.

“So, you’re in his head?”

“And he’s in mine. Yeah.”

“Does he…will he speak to you?”

Stiles tilted his head, his eyes flickering, a thin circle of yellow around the iris, almost negligible, if one wasn’t looking for it.

“He’s here. Inside. He’s willing to share his memories, to give the pain and hurt to me, to let my spark…eat it? Heal it? I’m not sure I’m understanding that right, but he’s taking a backseat. It’s like, with the pain gone and the hunger sated, he’s content to just be.”

Derek wasn’t sure what to make of that. What he did know was that Stiles was still Stiles. Their bond was as strong as it had been before.

“And Scott?”

The line of yellow got a little more pronounced. The hiss to Stiles’ voice, a little more ragged, “We’ll take care of McCall,” he swore. “I understand now what we can do. How we can take his wolf.” His eyes were hard when he explained, “The wolf is spirit bound to the soul by magic. Once you understand the magic, the binding can be reversed. It won’t be pretty, but we can do this.”

“And if he fights?”

Stiles shrugged, and it was such a VOID move that Derek shivered a little. “Then it’ll hurt more, but it won’t stop us. Scott McCall will no longer threaten our Pack.”

As they got in the SUV to head home, Derek wondered just whose Pack, Stiles meant.

VOID was not, not happy, but then again, he couldn’t remember a time when he was happy.

Stiles hadn’t been wrong, calling him empty. It’s hard to keep one’s sanity when one is starving and that’s exactly what he’d been doing for centuries. Not just days or months or even decades. Centuries. Ever since he’d come into his powers.

Rhys hadn’t been the first human he’d possessed. Unlike other kitsune, nogitsune were born foxes. They didn’t have a human body with a fox spirt. He was all fox. He remembered his family faintly, like the wisps of dreams that faded when you woke, but some small piece, the feel of them, hung on. His past was like that.

They weren’t evil or good. They just were. ‘Chaotic neutral,’ a good enough term for a curious, game-loving fox. He’d wanted to play. Had found humans so inherently contradictory that they’d fascinated him. Somewhere along the way that fascination had turned to need. He needed to be involved, to be wanted by these fallible, mortal, men and women who could never really understand him.

It was hard, possessing females. Their minds were so complicated, consumed with such divergent thoughts that it took more energy than it was worth it to possess them. Men were easy. At their base they wanted three things – food, power, and someone to fuck. Maybe that was an over simplification, not all men were like that. Rhys hadn’t been. He’d wanted to protect. The same as Stiles.

Maybe that’s what drew him to them in the first place. They were so different than anyone he’d ever possessed before. They were capable of great violence and greater love. VOID understood one, but not the other. Rhys gave him a taste of it. A soft, embracing love that was quickly felled under the hurt of betrayal. But Stiles....

Oh, now Stiles had been something so much more. His love burned brighter than any anger and hurt or pain. He took those emotions in like they were kindling and stoked the fire of his love even higher. Love for his father, his town, and his Pack. For Derek. The King to Stiles’ Queen. He hadn’t caught that the first time he’d possessed the boy. Too busy feeding off the fear and chaos he was creating. After sixty-years of starving he’d been almost drunk on it. Too overcome to realize there was a bigger prize waiting.

The love of a Spark for his mate.

If the chaos before had made VOID drunk, it was nothing compared to the feeling of almost rapture he had at being filled by the Spark and his wolf. He felt them, all of them, sliding through the boy along the Pack bonds. They were weary, a little hesitant and yet still so full of love and support and relief that VOID let himself fade into the back of Stiles’ mind. He didn’t remember what happy felt like, wasn’t sure he even remembered the word any more, but this. He remembered this and he longed for it once more.

Peace.

He'd do almost anything to keep this feeling for as long as he could. Even if it meant giving himself up to the fledgling Spark.

He'd burn the world to the ground if it kept the feeling of peace. Faintly, like an echo of a dream, he felt Stiles' agree. VOID may have been a fox, without the driving need for a Pack, but he remembered family. The feel of it if nothing else. Peace and home were things he hadn't had since he was a kit barely able to control fox fire. To keep even the faintest of those feelings, he'd align himself with the devil and a fledgling Spark was a hell of a step up from that.

He felt Stiles' grim humor and smirked as he let himself fade back into Stiles' soul. For now, he was content to let Stiles' lead. He would be here when they needed him.

After all, he was good at waiting.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Stiles slipped into the loft silently. His hackles had been raised since he’d crossed the threshold and it was making both of them nervous.

‘Are you feeling this too?’ he asked the fox.

‘Yes,’ Void responded, slipping along their bond until he could look out of Stiles’ eyes himself.

‘Do you see it?’

Stiles nodded. ‘A hex and wolfsbane.’

‘And mistletoe. Whoever did this, really hates our Pack.’

‘Whoever did this knew exactly where to hit us,’ Stiles countered. He twisted his fingers together, thumbs and index fingers touching, pointing to the ceiling, the others folded under to make a lattice. He focused his spark at the very tip of his fingers and ‘shot’ it to the ceiling. Orange fire erupted across the metal roof, sparks raining down and illuminating each surface that had been marked.

The chair Derek liked to read in, the third step from the bottom of the spiral staircase Peter sat on during meetings. Isaac’s favorite coffee mug…all the places the Pack preferred.

He walked towards the most violent of the hexes. To Void’s eyes they looked like an oozing black miasma dripping from Derek’s chair.

“Fàilnicheadh a neart agus reubadh taibhsean na h-ama a dh'fhalbh e.” [Let his strength fail and the ghosts of the past rip him apart.]

“Son of a bitch,” Void!Stiles hissed their displeasure, their eyes flashing yellow. “This isn’t just cruel, it’s evil.”

‘We will need to wipe everything before anyone else comes here.’

‘The only way in without setting off the alarm would be if someone already knew about it. That means the Pack…’

‘Or Scott,’ Void answered.

‘Is there a way to see who it was, exactly?’ Stiles asked as he twisted his magic to ‘wipe’ away the hex and poisons.

‘The banshee is the only one who knows Gaelic.’

‘Deaton knows it too.’ Stiles hummed thoughtfully. ‘It could have been either of them.’

‘We could try to use a divination mirror,’ Void suggested. ‘However, we will need to wait until moon rise.’

‘Then let’s focus on cleaning this place up first.”

Stiles moved through the loft, using his magic to cleanse each surface, noting that each hex was specific to a single member of his Pack.

“Goil 'fhuil, agus loisgeadh teine 'anam,” the pair read from the staircase. [May his blood boil and fire consume his soul.]

“This was specifically aimed at Peter.”

‘These are not common curses,’ Void said slowly. ‘These were meant to inflict the most emotional damage as possible.’

“Whoever did this is dead,” Stiles snarled, eyes flashing and lip curled. “This is beyond cruel. They hexed Isaac to a cold, black box. They want them to relive their worst moments.”

Void sat up in attention. ‘That’s it.’

“What is?”

‘These are personalized Gaelic curses meant to destroy our Pack from the inside out.’

“Anáil Siabhráin, the breath of the demon…these are druidic piseógs.”

Stiles stopped scrubbing Isaac’s mug, his eyes burning a bloody red. “Deaton.”

Peter stepped out of the darkness and up to Stiles’ side, he’d had a hell of a time ditching Derek from following him, but Stiles had insisted his mate not be involved just yet.

“Alpha,” he murmured.

Cold black eyes turned to regard him over Stiles’ shoulder. “Peter, good, I was getting tired of waiting.” He cocked his head, listening. “No Derek?”

“No, per your orders.”

Stiles gave a firm nod. “I need Hale blood,” he said without preamble, flicking black shiny claws out. “I’ve already marked the mirror with my own blood, but the loft is Hale land, so…”

“Alright,” Peter said easily. He stepped forward and Stiles slit his wrist, dripping the blood into a small bowl beside the mirror. After a few seconds, Stiles told him enough and he held the wound shut until it closed.

“Will you tell me what we’re doing?”

“Someone hexed the loft. They left powdered wolfsbane and mistletoe around the air vents and window sills and hexed the items the Pack uses the most often.”

“Hexed?”

“Gaelic Druidic battle hexes. Exceptionally cruel. They knew us; knew the loft and didn’t set off the alarm.” He gave his Second a feral look. “Sound like any vindictive druids, banshees, or huntresses we know?”

Peter’s eyes flashed and a snarl escaped before he could reign himself in. “So, what are we doing about it?”

“I’m going to ‘look’ into the past and see if I can’t pinpoint who exactly it was.”

He looked up at Peter and his smile was particularly cruel. Peter knew he was talking to the demon fox. “Then we are going to show them what real magic looks like. No one screws with our Pack.”

Peter’s blood was used to paint the last circle of runes around the outside of the mirror Stiles had taken off the bathroom wall. He set it on the bare concrete floor right in the center of the loft where the moon’s rays would land on it. Shucking out of his grey stripped hoodie, he rolled his sleeves up, exposing the long, corded muscles of his forearms. Above his heart, his triskele pulsed orange.

Void slid back into the recesses of Stiles’ mind. Allowing the teen’s spark to burn brighter. His magic had been wild and unpredictable before Void had taken up residence, now it was tempered to a razor-sharp edge. He was a thousand years old; he knew magic the likes of which Stiles had never heard of and he served it to the boy like it was water. Pouring his knowledge inside him and letting it soak into his subconscious.

To say Stiles was a quick study would be an understatement. Around them, orange foxfire burned along the blood runes, melting them into the glass, creating a haze over the mirror until the surface turned opalescent.

Around the room, the shadows writhed.

Peter growled when the first phantom drifted through the doorway. It wasn’t clear enough to see who it was, but the actions were obvious as they disarmed the alarm and allowed three others entry.

Stiles said a word under his breath and the image sharpened. At another word, the whispers began.

“This needs to happen before the next new moon,” Deaton said darkly, handing a bag to Allison.

“Why the new moon?” she asked, taking a handful of powder and smearing it along the window sills.

“Alpha Ito said they’ve let that monster out. He’s strongest on the new moon.”

Scott snarled as he shoved a handful of poisoned powder into the air vents. He was wearing gloves and a surgical mask, but it didn’t stop them from seeing his eyes flash red.

“Traitors. Monsters. Do you see now, Lydia? I told you Stiles was evil!”

The banshee hung back by the doorway. She glanced around the room hesitantly. “Stiles isn’t evil, Scott, but he is being controlled. To release Void,” she shuddered. “I’d bet anything this is Peter’s doing.”

“Did you bring the paint?” Deaton asked.

“Yes, but I still think this is too much, Deaton. Peter, yes, but the others…”

“Destroying Peter isn’t enough,” the Druid snapped. “We need to destroy all of them. Anyone who sides with the monster. He cannot be allowed to corrupt anyone else.”

Peter watched what the other’s did, but Void was focused on Deaton. The man’s eyes were wide, almost manic as he muttered incantation after incantation, making Lydia paint the hexes on each item. At the end, he shuffled them all out of the loft, then turned baleful eyes on the empty space.

“There can only be one Alpha,” he muttered crazily. “Everyone else must die. The balance must be maintained.”

The magic faded as the door closed.

“Well,” Peter said after several long moments of silence. “That makes things simpler, I suppose.”

“Deaton’s nuts,” Stiles said, collapsing onto Derek’s chair.

“Hmm…”

“Peter?” Stiles asked hesitantly. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s the comment about balance that concerns me.”

“You don’t think he’s referring to only one Alpha per territory?”

“No, or he’d have previously had a problem with Satomi on our land. I think there’s something else going on here, a long game we just aren’t seeing.”

“The only other thing I can think of is the nemeton,” the teen said thoughtfully. “We never did establish why it was cut down, did we?”

“What does our resident fox think?”

Void slid forward, Stiles’ eyes flickering as he did. “The nemeton was still standing when Yukimora called me.”

“But you were under the nemeton afterwards,” Peter insisted, moving closer. “Did you feel or see anything?”

Void stood languidly, crossing to the couch to drape himself over it, his head rolling back to stare at the ceiling. “I did not ‘see’ as you do. I had no eyes to see out of.”

“But you sensed something…”

“Perhaps,” he hummed under his breath, trying to pull the memories forward. “I remember the death of that girl. The one our mate killed.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at the mate comment, but didn’t say anything. Stiles had said they’d eventually integrate to the point there would only be one mind inside his body. He just hadn’t expected to see it happening so quickly.

“Paige,” he finally said.

Void nodded, a smug look on his face. “I have seen her in our wolf’s mind. She looked very similar to us. Pale skin, dark hair and eyes, even the mole under her eye. That and she spoke Polish.” He shrugged. “I doubt he even realizes the similarities.”

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, until Void said anything, he hadn’t even considered the similarities. “Had he ever met her?”

“He?”

“Red,” Peter said urgently. “Had he ever met her? It would have been around the time his mother was diagnosed.”

Void tilted his head in concentration, rummaging through Stiles’ memories. He had a fleeting image of the girl speaking to the Sheriff, Stiles perched on the stairs to their home.

“Interesting,” the fox muttered. “She seems to have been his babysitter for a few months towards the end, when his mother was becoming increasingly violent.”

“I knew it,” Peter muttered, eyes sparkling. A smirk twisted his lips. “It wasn’t Paige he was attracted to, but Stiles’ scent on her. That’s why the bite didn’t work. It was never supposed to be her.”

“You can’t tell him, Peter,” Stiles said, and he knew it was Stiles by the hard authority covering a tremble of fear in the boy’s voice. It was distinctly Stiles.

Peter crossed to his Alpha, “He should know, Stiles.”

“No. His knowing doesn’t benefit anyone. Paige is dead, leave her that way.”

“But…”

“No,” Stiles said, eyes flashing Alpha red. Peter bared his throat, shifting back slightly at the command. Stiles didn’t Alpha command often, and it made the severity of the situation clearer.

“What would you tell him, Peter?” Stiles asked softly, reigning himself in. “Hey Derek, you had Ennis bite a girl and then had to kill her because she smelled like me, but I was too young for you to know or do anything about it? All that would do would be to reinforce that he was naïve and an innocent died because of it. That is not the message we want to send him.”

Peter sighed deeply, blowing out a breath as he settled beside Stiles on the couch. “Alright, but we still need information on the nemeton. Anything else rattling around in that head of yours?”

Stiles slid his eyes closed; lips pursed in concentration. “It was cut before Paige died,” he said carefully, searching backwards for any unusual activity. “It was standing when Talia became an Alpha…”

Peter nodded, he remembered that. The Alpha ceremony happened at the base of the oak, their father passing his spark to her when he thought she was ready.

“It was…wait. That…oh, no, no, no Talia you didn’t.”

“What?”

When Stiles opened his eyes, they were full of grief, tears spilling over his cheeks. “My mom. My mom was the witch she and Deaton were arguing about. The one Hōkūlani mentioned. I didn’t put it together, because if I’m a Spark, my mom probably was too, but she started getting sick right before Paige died. Paige was my babysitter because mom got sick.”

Peter’s eyes went wide in understanding. “And if she was a Spark, she would have been effected by the nemeton, so cutting it down…”

“Would have driven her mad. Yeah.”

“Do you know if Talia cut the tree?”

“It feels like a wolf. Like a Hale. But it also feels like Deaton. I know his magic. I’ve felt it before. This, this feels like him, but also a Hale Alpha.”

“So, they were both involved.”

“But why? I can’t figure out what the end goal would be.”

“Deaton once said the nemeton drew the supernatural to the town. Is it possible she thought she was stopping problems?”

“But a damaged nemeton is almost worse than one in full-power,” Stiles groused. He sat forward heavily, legs parted and head dropped down. His arms laid on his thighs; hands clasped between his legs in agitation.

“What did Lucan say about them,” Peter asked as he carefully laid a hand on his Alpha’s shoulder.

Stiles gave a shuddery exhalation. “'...no bird nested in the nemeton, nor did any animal lurk nearby; the leaves constantly shivered though no breeze stirred. Altars stood in its midst, and the images of the gods. Every tree was stained with sacrificial blood. The very earth groaned, dead yews revived; unconsumed trees were surrounded with flame, and huge serpents twined round the oaks. The people feared to approach the grove, and even the priest would not walk there at midday or midnight lest he should then meet its divine guardian.'”

“What if, when Deucalion and the others came to speak to Talia about Gerard, Talia thought the problems were because of the tree so she had Deaton cut it down and your mom was just collateral damage.”

“But Deaton had to know who she was if they were arguing about her. He knew who I was, Peter. He knew I was a Spark, but he specifically didn’t tell me anything useful.”

“What if your mom was the Guardian and Deaton knew that? If she was connected to the tree more than he was…”

“He might have wanted her out of the way.”

“Or he might have feared what she’d do in retaliation, but the magic didn’t work that way.”

“She went crazy instead,” Stiles swallowed harshly. “It’s possible. We won’t know unless we can get Deaton to talk though.”

Peter gave him a feral grin. “Does that mean I have your permission to have a chat with the good doctor, Alpha?”

Stiles looked up into electric blue eyes. He felt a wave of giddy anticipation and bloodlust and for once, he allowed it to consume him without hesitation.

“Do it. I want answers.”

Peter stood to leave, halting by the door when Stiles called his name. Turning back, he saw his Alpha illuminated by moonlight, his eyes a pulsing amber red that seemed to darken as he watched.

“When you’re done, we deal with McCall and the others. No one will come after our Pack again.”

Peter bowed his head in supplication. “Yes, Alpha.”

Stiles waited until Peter was gone before turning to the wall of windows. Stepping closer, he stared out into the darkness, his lips curling into a terrifyingly cruel smile.

“The rules,” he muttered. “The rules have finally changed.”

by sterekcraptrash

-tbc-

Chapter Text

“You really should have known better, Alan,” Peter said patronizingly.

Alan Deaton struggled against the iron chains that were currently twisting his arms backwards in agony.

“Going against my Alpha.” He shook his head.

“Cutting the nemeton.” Alan froze as the wolf bent over his shoulder, his voice a sultry purr that promised nothing but pain.

“Really, it’s practically your own fault that we’re in this mess. But where you really screwed up, Alan, was going after Derek. Stiles could forgive a lot, but going after his mate…” he tsked.

“Now,” Peter said as he rounded the chair the druid was tied to. He hooked an ankle around the second chair and spun it so he could sit backwards on it. He leaned into Deaton’s space, eyes glowing and fangs denting his lips. “Let’s talk about how you and my darling sister brought hell to Beacon Hills.”

Peter wasn’t concerned about blood or the other bodily fluids that occurred during an interrogation. He hadn’t been Talia’s Left Hand for nothing, after all. He did, however, dislike the ringing in his ears from all the screaming and begging.

“I really thought you’d be harder to break,” he muttered, flicking blood off his claws.

He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the blood off his hands, tossing it over Deaton’s bald head where it lay bowed over, his body hanging heavily from where his arms were chained behind him.

He pulled his cell out and tapped a number. It rang twice before a low murmur of sound said his name.

“It’s done,” Peter said quickly. He flicked open a lighter and tossed it onto the gas-soaked corpse.

“We have answers?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Good, get back so we can inform the Pack.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Peter stared at the burning body, something settling inside him as he watched one of the perpetrators of his families’ death burn like they’d left him to burn. He didn’t make the same mistake they did though.

He didn’t leave witnesses.

The Pack was waiting for him when he returned. He’d burned his clothes with Deaton’s body and changed before coming over. He didn’t want to bring blood into Noah’s home.

Derek and Stiles were the first ones to him when he walked through the front door. Stiles eyes flashing as he wrapped his hand around Peter’s neck and drew their foreheads together. He stood there, breathing in the comforting scent of his Alpha and his Pack. He was Stiles’ Second, but he was also the Left Hand. He would always be a Left Hand and he was fine with that role. Derek, his mate, was his Right Hand, his conscious and heart. Peter would be his wrath and vengeance. He’d do anything for them.

Derek wrapped him up in a hug, scenting him by rubbing his beard against Peter’s cheek. He’d been terrified he’d lose Peter too, and had been furious with Stiles that he’d sent Peter to deal with this alone. It was the first real fight they’d had since mating and it had torn him up inside.

“This isn’t you, Stiles!” he shouted, the betas retreating from their Alphas.

“It’s always been me, Derek!” Stiles had shouted back. “They tried to kill us! They hexed and poisoned the loft so that if any of you had walked in, you’d be dead right now!”

“But to send Peter…”

“They killed my mom!”

Derek froze at the bottom of the stairs. “What?”

“Deaton and Talia, they cut down the nemeton. It’s what killed my mom, Derek.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Which is why I sent Peter to confirm what we suspected. If we were wrong, then fine, but he still tried to kill you. Tried to kill all of you and I will not let any of you die. We. Are. PACK,” he snarled, eyes flashing. “We are rodzina and I’m not losing any more family.”

He swirled back to Derek, his arm slashing the air as he seethed. “Kurwa, ten dupek próbował cię zabić. I’m not going to apologize for protecting any of you.” [Fuck, that asshole tried to kill you.]

Derek had scrubbed his hands through his hair in agitation, collapsing onto the bottom step, he looked up at Stiles with a broken expression. “And what about the others?” he asked quietly. “We brought Void out to keep Scott alive, but now you’re just going to what? Kill them all and move on? Do you really think you can do that?”

Stiles had stared at Derek for a long, tense moment before he slowly walked up to the wolf. “Deaton betrayed us. Betrayed this town. He actively tried to kill this Pack. Scott and Allison too. Lydia…I’m not so sure about her yet. She helped, but she didn’t want to, so I don’t know what I’m going to do, but the others…I warned them, Derek. How many chances do they get to kill us before they succeed?”

“What about Melissa and Chris? Have you thought about them at all?”

“I have. I saved both of them the last time Void was running around. I gave them chance after chance. Should I have given those chances to Gerard?” he asked harshly. When Derek flinched, he crouched down, not touching, but sitting close enough that Derek could feel the heat of his body.

He softened his tone, not wanting to fight. “I can’t keep defending their actions. I sent Peter to find out the truth. We will all listen to him and I will listen to the Pack’s opinions on the matter, but at the end of the day, I’m the Alpha, Derek, and it’s my job to protect you, even from yourselves.”

He brushed a tentative hand down Derek’s jaw, fingers slipping beneath his stubbled chin to raise it high enough for him to stare into grey-green eyes. “I need your support on this, Der,” he whispered softly. “I need you to understand that this time, we don’t have a choice. They’ve tied our hands.”

Derek swallowed harshly, eyes-resigned. “I understand.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then trust me now.”

He’d nodded, but his stomach flipped at the idea of the coming battle. As he searched Stiles’ eyes, he wondered who was in control of his mate and what he could do to keep his family safe.

Melissa and Noah were sitting pressed tight together on the sofa, bracketed by Isaac and Erica, the two best able to offer comfort for this discussion. Derek stood behind Stiles where he sat in one of the armchairs. Jackson and Danny were pressed against Isaac’s feet and Kira and Liam sat closer to Stiles. Boyd sat in the Sheriff’s chair while Peter paced back and forth in front of the tv.

“Alright,” Stiles said. “Before everyone loses their collective minds, Peter has some additional information to share. Peter?”

Peter’s eyes flicked to Noah and then away. He knew this was going to be rough. “Ten years ago, my sister was part of an Alliance. Deucalion, Kali, Ennis, Satomi, and a few others were part of this Alliance as well. The goal was simple, if anyone in the Alliance needed support because of hunters or other supernatural chaos, the others would help, as long as they hadn’t started anything themselves.”

He took a shaky breath. “This is when the Argents were really ramping up their ‘kill all wolves’ campaign. One of Ennis’s betas was killed. Deucalion wanted to try for peace, Talia wanted to fight. The resulting war ended up with Deucalion’s eyesight being lost as well as a dozen other wolves’ being killed. The Argents were here, in Beacon Hills and Talia was afraid that they would come after the family, so she struck a deal with Gerard that Talia would cut down the nemeton, the ‘draw’ of the supernaturals to the area and in return, Gerard would stop the war.”

“That obviously didn’t happen,” Jackson snorted.

“No, it didn’t, but that wasn’t the first problem.” His eyes flicked from Stiles to Noah.

“The problem was that Deaton wasn’t the only one with a tie to the nemeton. There was another, someone more powerful, but who couldn’t take part in the war.”

“Why?” Isaac asked, head tilted in confusion.

“Because she was a Spark that had magically bound herself to the tree.”

Noah sat up straighter, his breathing shallow. Melissa clutched his arm. “Claudia.”

Peter nodded, “Yes. She was a Spark, like Stiles, but not nearly as powerful.”

“What do you mean, Peter?” Stiles asked, frowning.

“Claudia was powerful because she tied herself to the tree, not because she had a lot of power herself.”

He turned to Stiles, his throat working. “She did it to protect you. If she could use the nemeton’s power, then she could hide you from the rest of the supernatural world. She could hide you from hunters. Make you appear human. When they cut the tree, the power she’d been using snapped and it…”

“Killed her,” Stiles whispered. This was what they’d thought, but so much worse at the same time.

“Yes.”

“Was that the only thing they did?”

“No, Deaton argued that another was connected, he didn’t know who, exactly, just that it felt like a witch, but the only witch they knew about was Danny’s grandmother and Talia insisted it wasn’t her.”

Danny flinched against Jackson’s side. He remembered Mrs. Stilinski before and after, he couldn’t imagine if that had been his grandmother.

“Because they didn’t know, exactly, and Deaton couldn’t track the magic back, Talia said it didn’t matter.”

“She sacrificed her,” Stiles whispered, eyes bleeding red.

“Stiles,” Derek murmured, hand tightening on his mate’s shoulder.

“Tell the rest, Peter, quickly before I lose it,” Stiles ground out, claws prickling his nailbeds.

“Cutting the tree didn’t work the way they thought. Deaton’s access to the magic was cut off too. Talia’s druid could do nothing to protect her family and we already know what Gerard did.” There were grimaces around the room.

“What we didn’t know, but what Hōkūlani and Mia suggested, was that there is no such thing as a true Alpha.”

“What?!” Liam screeched, jumping to his feet.

“Deaton and Marin came up with a potion that pulls power directly from the ley lines to make someone an Alpha. The potion has to be renewed though, and if the person stops drinking it, for whatever reason, the powers start to shift back to the land…”

“Making them appear to go feral,” Derek finished. “That’s what set Scott off, Marin disappeared during the Alpha battle and Deaton was in the hospital for weeks after the Oni attacks. He probably missed taking the potion.”

Peter nodded. “Exactly, nephew. Deaton said he missed at least two renewals and that when he’d tried to get Scott to drink it, Scott refused, saying he didn’t need it anymore. He thought it was a way to help with his anchor, which we know was messed up after the nogitsune.”

Boyd snorted loudly grabbing everyone’s attention. He crossed his arms over his chest in a very Derek-esk manner, biceps flexing. “Deaton and Scott did this to themselves,” the beta said. “That’s what Peter’s saying. All this time he’s been bitching that it was Stiles’ fault, but he did it to himself.”

“But this means none of it was Scott’s fault,” Melissa said, eyes shimmering with tears. “If Deaton hadn’t given him the potion…”

Peter grimaced, glancing at Stiles who slowly stood and crossed to Melissa.

“Mel, I wish I could agree, but Scott still tried to kills us. The potion gave him Alpha powers, but it didn’t make him crazy.”

“But if the magic is leaving him…”

Stiles glanced over his shoulder at Peter.

“Deaton said with the magic leaving him, he should have reverted to a beta. He should have calmed down, not gotten more aggressive.”

“Is there no way to save him?” Melissa sniffled, pressing herself against Noah’s shoulder. The older man’s eyes were dark with pain, but he was holding it together for now.

“I can take his wolf. It’s what I was planning on doing before. But Melissa, he wasn’t just talking about killing us. He actively prepared for and participated in turning the loft into a death trap for us. He used the same method Victoria used to try and kill him. A method he only survived because Derek saved him from it the first time.”

He glanced around the room. “I need to hear from the rest of you on what you think is appropriate, because I’m not sure I can make that decision without bias. What I know for a fact is that Deaton, Scott and Allison researched, planned and executed an attempt on our lives. A brutal attempt.”

“What about Lydia?” Jackson asked quietly.

“From what we saw, Lydia participated, but I’m not sure if it was willingly. She seems to think I’m being manipulated again.”

“So, we need to find out what exactly she was a part of before we deal with her,” Kira said thoughtfully.

“I’d prefer that, yes, but again, this is a group decision.” He turned to Noah. “Dad, I know we’re getting into conflict-of-interest territory, so if you need to walk away, I understand.”

Noah grimaced before his jaw hardened. Eyes the color of flint, he shook his head and pulled his badge off, slipping it into his pocket. “They came after the Pack. I’m staying.”

Stiles nodded once, then caught each member’s eyes in a slow circuit of the room.

“Thoughts?”

Erica shifted uneasily against Noah, glancing at Melissa with a pained expression. “I’m sorry, Melissa, but I’m over getting shot and stabbed. I say Scott and Allison need to be put down.”

Boyd nodded. “Definitely, Allison; she’s tried to kill us several times now. If Scott hadn’t participated, I might have said just strip him of his wolf, but that’s just giving him what he’s always wanted.”

Isaac, Danny, and Jackson agreed. Liam stuck his hand up like he was in school making the group chuckle.

“Yeah, baby beta?” Stiles asked.

Liam scrunched his nose up at the name, but then slumped against Derek’s legs. “I think we should take his wolf and…can we take his memories? Like what happened to Derek?”

Stiles thought for a second. “It’s possible. I don’t know if it would stick, or if he saw us, he wouldn’t try and be friends again. Is that something you could do? Forgive him and hang out like nothing happened?”

Liam groaned, dropping his head. “No.”

“What would you do then, Liam? You can tell us; we won’t hold it against you,” Derek said soothingly, rubbing a hand through the boy’s hair.

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” Liam muttered sourly. “But I don’t want any of us killed either.”

Stiles crouched down in front of the younger teen. “I know you don’t, Liam. It’s okay not to have an answer, but I need to know that whatever we decide, that you’re going to be able to live with it.”

Liam looked up into his Alpha’s eyes and nodded. “I will. I just don’t think I can do it.”

Stiles gave him an understanding smile. “You won’t need to, Liam.” He looked around the room. “None of you will need to. I’ll deal with this myself.”

Peter, Derek, and Jackson of all people, immediately growled. “No way,” Jackson said on a snarl. “You don’t get to sacrifice yourself for us.”

He got right up into Stiles’ face, his eyes flashing blue. “You said we were Pack; family,” he stressed. “That we were never supposed to fight alone. That includes you too, dumbass. You don’t get to fight our battles for us. I say we do to them exactly what they were going to do to us. They wanted us to choke on mistletoe and mountain ash, to hex us with our worst nightmares? Well, I seem to remember a certain psychotic fox who specialized in fucking with our minds. Let him out to play and see how they like it for once.”

Stiles heard murmurs of approval from the rest of the Pack and felt a rush of pride from Derek for the former kanima. He wrapped a hand around the back of Jackson’s neck, tugging the other boy in against his chest. He rumbled approval, hiding a smile when tentative arms came up to hold him for a moment.

When Jackson stepped back, chin ducking to hide the faint blush at his Alpha’s approval, Stiles cleared his throat. “Let’s vote,” he said. “Option 1) strip Scott of his wolf and kill Allison. Option 2) take them both out. Option 3) strip Scott of his wolf and send them both into a nightmare land they may never recover from.”

“What about Lydia?” Kira asked before they could vote.

“We need to talk to her first, so for now, we’re just dealing with the Scott and Allison issue, okay?”

Kira nodded.

“Okay. Raise your hand for the option you prefer…”

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Okay, I really cannot decide, so, I’m going to leave this up to you guys. Vote for your preferred method of dealing with Scott and Allison and I will write that version of the story.

*manic giggles*

It’s like a choose your own adventure story!

1. Strip Scott of his wolf and kill Allison.
2. Take them both out.
3. Or strip Scott of his wolf and send them both into a nightmare land they may never recover from.

Also, I really hope you are enjoying this version of Void. I’ve been using him as a character study in these past few stories and I must say, I really enjoy him.

-pb

Chapter Text

Stiles lay out under the stars just staring up into the darkness. He felt the Pack bonds vibrating in his chest. Derek’s and Peter’s being the clearest. There was concern there. He knew that. Knew his mate and his Second were concerned this would be too much for him. There was only one problem with that line of reasoning…

This didn’t bother him at all.

‘They fear me,’ Void whispered, an edge of almost-hurt tinting the words. Void still didn’t understand emotions like that. Hate, fear, these he understood. Being upset because others felt those towards him…not really.

‘They’ll learn to deal with it. It’s not really you they are afraid of, but what your influence over me is. You’d think, with two former Alphas in the group, they might understand the need to be a little ruthless.’

‘They think there is too much blood on your hands.’

Stiles snorted. ‘I agree with them, but that doesn’t mean I will hesitate to spill some more if it protects them.’

‘We are tired,’ Void sighed wearily.

‘I know.’

‘This will be the last time I awaken; I think. You know most of my mind, my memories are there for you, should you need them. The shadows answer to you, the fox is there for you to command.’

Stiles sat quietly, letting the fox take his time, his mind as smooth as glass, although his heart jerked at the words. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

‘Are you sure you’re ready?’

Void shrugged, snuggling down amongst the shadows in Stiles’ mind. He was tired. Tired of the pain and hunger and constant fight just to survive. In Stiles, he was both free and needed, but he was also safe. Warm in a way he hadn’t been before.

‘Do you know why kitsune appear as spirits?’ Void asked suddenly.

‘No, I don’t think I came across that in my reading.’

‘The fox is all spirit because we need to cross from one plane to another. Yukimora- and Kira when she comes of age - will be able to move between them easily. It is where our magics come from.’

‘Convergence lines?’

‘Yes, but in a place Between this plane and the ones where the Old Gods live.’

‘There’s a physical place where that happens?’ Stiles asked intrigued. ‘Is that what the nemeton taps into?’

‘It’s roots, yes.’ He was silent for another long moment before he raised Stiles’ hand up into the night, clenching his fist, then slowly opening it one finger at a time. Dark fire twisted around long fingers. A slit in space appeared before him.

‘This is Between,’ Void said slowly. ‘It is both my home and my prison. When the others simply pass through, I remain.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I am Void. I am the darkness. The emptiness. In me, the Between resides and I reside in it. I am immortal, timeless.’

‘The Between is a place where all possibilities occur. All potential timelines. It is the true curse of a nogitsune. Although we are born foxes that take shape and live amongst the world, we are not a part of it. That,’ he said, gesturing to the empty blackness within the tear. ‘That is our true home, where our magics are formed.’

Stiles felt him sigh in his mind. ‘The reason I am telling you this, is because this is where the shadows reside. The reason my illusions are so realistic isn’t because I am that creative, but because what you see, what you feel, are real. They just aren’t real here.’

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath. ‘You mean you can access those alternative timelines?’

‘Exactly,’ he said on a purr, pleased with the sharpness of Stiles’ mind. ‘Now do you understand what you need to do, Little Spark?’

Stiles’ grin was all Void as he peered into the blackness of Between.

Noah stepped off the back porch hesitantly. He’d seen his son slip out after the vote with a contemplative expression on his face. Derek and Peter had been in a furious debate as to what to tell Chris Argent while Kira, Liam, and Isaac had surrounded Melissa trying to calm her down. He should be there for her, but this was his son and they’d both learned something horrible about Claudia.

“Son,” he said slowly, standing over the prone form.

Dark eyes looked up at him, blinking slowly as the faintest edge of red receded.

“Hey pops. You doing okay?”

Noah huffed out a shaky laugh. “Ask me tomorrow.”

Stiles’ lips quirked up for a moment before falling. “Is it wrong that I wish Deaton had suffered more?”

Noah settled beside Stiles on the lawn, his legs stretched out in front of him, hands holding up his weight as he leaned back. “I’m almost positive Peter made it hurt and a part of me is thankful he did, but I don’t think your mom would have wanted to see anyone suffer because of her, knowingly or not.”

He turned to fix his son with a harsh look. “I, however, am not that nice. I hope he hurt just as much as Claud did.”

Stiles held his father’s gaze for a long moment., then dipped his chin in acknowledgement before turning back to look at the sky.

“You and Derek work things out?”

Stiles shrugged. “I think so. He’s not happy I was plotting mass murder without him, or at all, I suppose. He’s still upset about Void.”

“He’s not the only one kiddo, but things seem to be going better than we anticipated.”

“He’s not all bad. Everyone keeps waiting for me to lose my mind again, but that’s just not possible anymore and I don’t know how to explain it to them.”

“Explain it to me, because I remember the last time and it was terrifying, Stiles, seeing you and knowing I couldn’t do a thing to stop you, to protect you.”

“You know, I told Marin once that when you’re drowning, you don’t actually inhale until right before you black out, because the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won’t open your mouth until you feel like your head’s exploding. Then when you finally let it in, that’s when it stops hurting. It’s not scary anymore, it’s… it’s actually kind of peaceful. Void is like that. When we were fighting for control, it was like two forces of nature constantly battling it out in my head and I couldn’t do anything. I kept holding my breath thinking ‘don’t breathe, just don’t breathe’.” He took a shuddering breath, eyes fixed on something Noah couldn’t see.

“This time, I willing let him in. I didn’t fight it and we just sort of flowed together. Our magic, our thoughts, memories, feelings. He’s in me, sure, but I’m also in him. We’re like two sides of the same coin. Light and darkness; love and hate. My magic sates his hunger. My bonds to the Pack keep him stable. But it’s not just one-sided. He …I always felt like I wasn’t enough, that because I was human, even with my spark, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to protect them. I was terrified that I’d fail them.”

“Son…”

“I’m not saying it’s logical,” Stiles interrupted. “I’m saying that’s how I felt. It wasn’t until Void and I settled into one another that I realized I was feeling so unstable. My magic was never consistent. I could call on it, but it might come out with barely enough force to break a mountain ash line or I might blow up another tree. Void showed me how to control the flow of power. How to convert that into being able to shift, to call on the shadows and illusions. It’s not perfect, but I finally feel like I can protect you all and not go darkside when I do it.”

“I told you once, you don’t have to take care of us and what did you tell me?”

“We take care of each other.”

Noah patted him on the shoulder. “If you say Void is on our side, that you and he are…merged or something, then I believe you.”

Stiles sniffled a bit, rubbing his nose against his other shoulder, his eyes suspiciously wet. “Thanks, Dad.”

Noah shoved himself to his feet, grunting slightly as his knees creaked. God, he hated getting old. “Now that we’re done with all the mushy stuff, maybe you can get your mate and his uncle to stop arguing long enough for us to fix dinner and come up with a battle plan. Thank you can handle that, Alpha?”

Stiles barked out a laugh. “Oh my God, fine,” he grumbled, rolling over onto his stomach and pushing himself up to his feet. “Derek! Get out here; it’s time for your walk!”

Noah jumped out of the way of the slamming door. Derek was in beta shift, growling at Stiles, blue eyes flashing dangerously. “What the hell, Stiles?!” he snarled.

From inside, Noah could hear the others laughing. He turned just in time to catch the shit-eating grin on Stiles’ face before he yelped and ran off into the Preserve, Derek shifting effortlessly into a large black wolf as he chased him into the darkness. Noah chuckled as he joined them.

They’d barely cleared the tree line when Derek pounced, his wolf knocking Stiles off his feet. He shifted as he fell, rolling his shoulder to make sure the teen was safe. Ice cold cushioned Derek’s back and head, the shadows forming a protective barrier against the hard packed ground and his flesh. He stared up into dark red eyes and felt himself relax. Even with Void inside him, his mate was still the same. Still a protector. A provider. In his chest, their bond hummed.

“I missed this,” Stiles sighed, dropping his body down to lay splayed out over Derek’s. “Missed you.”

Derek’s arms came up to cradle his mate gently. “I’ve been right here,” he said gently.

“I know, but I haven’t. I’m sorry, I’ve been so worried about dealing with Scott, that I haven’t been there for you or the Pack.”

Derek frowned, his hands going up to drag through Stiles’ hair. He dug his fingers into the hinge of the teen’s jaw, massaging away the tightness he found there. “What are you talking about? You’ve been there for every one of us. You helped Isaac paint the basement room last week. Went and talked to Coach about Liam being on the team even after he tanked his midterms. You and Kira baked all those cookies when she got into a fight with her mom about them moving back to New York. Stiles, you are always there for us.”

Stiles opened and closed his mouth a few times until Derek stretched to catch his lips with his teeth, sucking the bottom one into his mouth. They kissed languidly for a while, neither concerned with being seen. Eventually, Stiles laid his head on Derek’s chest, the pair just laying there in the quiet darkness listening to each other breathe.

“I’m going to need your help.”

“You’ve got it.”

“I know you worry about me.”

Derek snorted inelegantly. “I always worry about you. You trip over air and you care too much. It’s not your power or Void that scares me, it’s that one day, something you’ll have to do to protect us will require too much of you. That it’ll break you.”

He nuzzled against Stiles’ temple. His voice a hot puff of air that made Stiles shiver with want. “I can’t stand the idea of you breaking, Stiles. Not again.”

Stiles traced random patterns on the olive skin. His voice, when it came, was low and emotion laden. “I can’t promise I won’t break, Der,” he whispered. “I can promise to be careful, but I won’t stop protecting you all.”

“I know and I know asking would be a waste of breath, just remember we’re here to help. You aren’t alone.”

Stiles groaned, dropping his head so his mouth was muffled against Derek’s chest. “You’ve been talking to my dad.”

“Actually, I’ve been talking to the Pack. They’re scared, Red. Scared because of Void, scared because of Scott and Allison. This whole thing is making them nervous.”

“They’re still scared of Void?”

Derek grimaced, then shrugged. “Not so much scared of him, per se, but of the changes they see in you.”

“What changes?”

“Your eyes, for one. They’re darker now, almost black when the red flashes and your skin is even paler than it was. Not as bad, but noticeable.”

Stiles nibbled his bottom lip until Derek soothed over it with the pad of his thumb. “What about you? You’re in my mind, Derek. Are you afraid of me too?”

Derek shook his head immediately. He could feel and hear the hurt in Stiles’ voice. The worry. “I’m not concerned with Void. I think he’s thrown in his lot with us, but I am concerned that you’re using a lot of magic to sate him and you haven’t been sleeping again.”

‘Void? Thoughts?’ Stiles whispered in his mind.

‘You are using more magic,’ the fox said easily. ‘But that will even out shortly. It’s better than it was a week ago and when we are done with McCall, it shouldn’t be a problem at all.’

“He said after Scott’s dealt with, my magic should even out.”

Derek gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher.

“Do you not trust him?”

“It’s not that. I trust you and if you trust him, then fine, but it’s not going to stop me from worrying.”

Stiles’ face went soft at the concern. He leaned forward to lick into Derek’s mouth. “I love you; you know that?”

Derek’s arms tightened around his waist and back as he kissed him back. “I love you too, Red.”

The snapping of branches heralded the arrival of Jackson and Danny, the latter of which tossed Derek a pair of sweats.

“If you two are done,” Jackson said dryly. “We need to figure out what we’re doing next.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Stiles said as he plucked a stray leaf from Derek’s back. “We’re going to kidnap Scott and Allison and drag their asses to the nemeton.”

“Wait, what?” Danny asked, voice breaking slightly.

Stiles gave him a confused look. “You all wanted me to give them a taste of their own medicine, right?”

When the three nodded, he shrugged. “Well, then we need to do it there. More of a power boost for me to contain them.”

“And you want us to just head over to McCall’s and what, knock him over the head and bring him to you?”

“The others, sure, but I’ve got a different job for you two.”

Jackson’s back stiffened. “No.”

“You know her best, Jacks. You’ll be able to convince her to stay out of this.”

“We’re not together anymore. Lydia won’t care about me at all.”

Stiles walked over and gently pulled the former kanima into a tight hug. “It’ll be okay, Jackson,” he murmured. “I know this is going to be awkward as fuck, but you and Danny are the only one’s she’ll listen to. I need you to do this, Jacks. Please.”

Jackson blew out a shaky breath. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But you’ll owe me for this, Stilinski.”

Stiles is standing on the nemeton’s stump when they arrive. Peter, Derek and Boyd have Scott, who is practically foaming at the mouth; his red eyes glaring and pulsing in a weird way Stiles doesn’t quiet understand but thinks might be related to Deaton’s meddling. Allison is slumped over Erica’s shoulder, Isaac and Liam keeping watch. Isaac’s got a long gash down his right arm and Liam’s eyes are still puffy and red from what looks like wolfsbane pepper spray. Erica’s bitching about a chipped nail and her hair is a mess. Needless to say, she’s not exactly kind when she drops the body. Allison bounces once, groaning.

Stiles uses the shadows to bind both her and Scott in place. He’s not dealing with this another day if he can avoid it. He’s already had to deal with a distraught Melissa and a pissed-off Chris Argent. He wants this done; the threat neutralized.

‘Are you sure you want to do it this way?’ Void asks one last time. They’ve already had this discussion and Stiles doesn’t want to go through it again.

‘Fine, then do what you need to do.’ The fox mutters petulantly. He’d rather just kill them both and be done with it, but a part of him wants to see what Stiles will do to them. Between is not a forgiving place and Stiles has never been before. He worries, in the way a parent might at sending their child to preschool for the first time. Stiles isn’t his son, but he is a part of Void and he doesn’t want to see him harmed.

Stiles uses the shadows to bodily drag Scott’s snarling form onto the stump with him. There’s little to no recognition in his eyes. He doesn’t bother trying to talk to Scott. He’s tried before and all it’s done is give him heartburn. Instead, he places on hand on Scott’s breast bone while the other curls around the back of his neck. His eyes pulse such a dark red they appear almost black, the amber fading. Peter posited that as he integrated with Void, his eyes would start to reflect the shift in power from Spark-amber to something closer to the black of Void’s shadows. So far, he seems to be correct, even the yellow ring has faded away. 

He uses his Spark to align with Scott’s wolf. His lip curls in a snarl as he feels the twisted, poisoned magic within Scott. It’s no wonder he’s losing it considering how his wolf feels. He traces the power through Scott’s body, frowning when he finds the remnants of the potion Deaton had given him. It’s got mistletoe and henbane in it, which explains why Scott’s attitude seems to have changed so much. Henbane contains scopolamine, also known as the zombie-drug, a strong hallucinogen; combined with mistletoe, it would both poison Scott’s wolf and leave it open to suggestive behavior.

Stiles slips his magic around the left-over bits of poison, cutting it off from the rest of his bloodstream. He can’t do much more than isolate it at this point and a whisper of something tells him it might be beneficial to leave it as is for now. Afterwards, he traces the corrupted magic back to his wolf. It's as gnarled and deformed as Deucalion’s, which makes Stiles’ want to cry. Scott wasn’t the best wolf, but with enough time and training, he could have been a good one. Now, it's too late. There are no other options.

He found the edges of the magic linking the wolf to Scott’s soul; the parts one normally shouldn’t be able to see. It's only because of his connection to Void and the Between that he can link into Scott's memories. He sees Peter bite Scott in the woods that night and followed it back through to the initial point of contact. It was like a line of tangled Christmas lights that he had to separate one at a time until he’d unraveled the entire thread connecting the wolf and the human. When he was certain it was finished, he looked up, catching Derek’s eyes.

Derek nodded once jerkily, then took his place beside Stiles. They’d discussed what to do with the wolf spirit and had elected on sacrificing it to the nemeton, along with Scott’s Alpha spark, as a way to kick start its regrowth, but there was something Stiles hadn’t mentioned to Derek, something Void wasn’t even sure would work.

“You ready, Big Bad?” Stiles asked tightly. Scott had ceased straining once the final thread had been cut, but Stiles knew once he started pulling, the teen was going to react badly.

“Do it, Red,” Derek said, stealing himself to act as the conduit between his mate and the tree. The wolf couldn’t be removed from the host completely, but it could be transferred, which is what they were planning on doing.

Stiles bit his lip to center himself, then he magically dug his claws into Scott’s chest and ripped the wolf free. It burned across Stiles’ soul as it clawed and fought its way back to Scott, who’d started screaming the minute he’d pulled. Stiles felt Void rise to lend his will to Stiles; felt the rest of the Pack’s concern and belief in him along their bonds. He grabbed the spirit tighter and shoved it down his connection to Derek. Distantly he heard Allison screaming.

Derek dropped to his knees with a pain filled grunt. Sweat beaded his temples and ran down his nose to drip onto the scarred wood. His own wolf leapt at the invader, teeth reaching to rend and tear until it could grab ahold of it’s scruff and drag it towards the tree. He felt the pull of the nemeton’s magic as it reached out and twined itself around the spirit in short, sharp tugs that reminded Derek of a fish at the end of a line; testing its strength as it looked for a way off the hook.

One last, sharp jerk and Derek felt the spirit ripped from of his own soul; a hot, pulse of warmth reverberating back from the tree, flushing his body with a heat he barely recognized before it faded.

“Stiles~” he said, wearily.

Stiles glanced over at his mate who flashed annoyed red eyes. "What did you do?"

“I gave you back your gold eyes. That’s what you’re feeling.”

Derek sucked in a sharp breath and looked at the other betas. Erica was grinning widely. 

"Why? No one can see them now," Derek asked.

"So? Just because your an Alpha's Mate doesn't mean you want a constant reminder of something shitty in your life. I can't make you not feel guilty about what happened, but I can tell you for a fact that she doesn't blame you. None of us do, so let it go."

Derek felt his insides go cold. He didn't deserve forgiveness, not for Paige. "You can't know that, you had no right to..."

"Actually, I can. I'm connected to something bigger Derek. Something I haven't shown you yet and I know you don't want to hear it, but I can abso-fucking-lutely promise you Paige doesn't blame you." Scott thrashed in the shadows, his heart rate picking up. Stiles gave Derek one more searching look. "Can we chat about that after I’m done here? Scott is starting to wake up.”

Derek stumbled to his feet beside Stiles. He gave his mate a small kiss. “Thank you. I think,” he murmured.

Stiles barked out a laugh, shaking his head in fond exasperation. “No prob, Sourwolf. We’ll talk later, right now, I need to deal with these two.”

Derek nodded, nuzzled the side of Stiles head, then hopped off the stump and headed back to the others.

Stiles turned his attention to Scott’s wheezing breaths, his mouth set in a grim line; the asthma was a part of being human and after everything, Stiles wasn't feeling generous enough to remove it. Scott’s brown eyes slowly opened. He stared at Stiles and Stiles stared back. “What did you do?”

“I gave you back your humanity. Aren’t I nice?”

“You…” Scott’s eyes went comically wide before narrowing dangerously. “You can’t do that!”

“Well, I did.”

“I’m the Alpha, you can’t do this to me!” he snarled, spit flying as he thrashed within the shadows.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “You were a lie, Scott. Deaton’s potion made you an Alpha. It twisted your wolf, which you never wanted to begin with, so I got rid of it.”

“I knew you were a traitor,” he spat acidly. “You were always a loser. Even as kids I knew I was better than you. You were always so jealous of me. You think I don’t know what you’re doing with my mom in your little wannabe Pack? Everyone knows you killed yours with your constant rambling and the lying that drove her insane. But just because you killed yours doesn’t mean you can have mine!”

Stiles eyes flashed a dangerous dark sienna; a red so dark it was almost black. He felt Void slide forward, fury making his voice hiss.

“We had hoped that getting rid of your wolf, of stopping Deaton’s poison would bring our brother back. Obviously, we were wrong,” Void!Stiles said darkly. “So be it. You have no idea what we’ve suffered at your hands, do you? Or perhaps you just don’t care. It doesn’t really matter.”

He stepped closer to Scott, his smile twisted and feral, more a baring of teeth than a smile. “But that’s okay, because we can show you. We can show you exactly what things would be like without us…what we’ve all suffered because of you.”

“Scott!” Allison screamed as she watched in horror as Stiles reached past Scott and tore a hole in the very fabric of reality. She threw herself against the shadows even when she knew she couldn’t break free of them.

“This is Between,” Stiles said nonchalantly, waving a hand at the inky blackness within the cut. “This is where all the magic in the world comes from. All pasts and futures. All possible realities. You think life would have been better without us? You think you’ve been right all this time about us? About the Pack? Fine. Why don’t we find out?”

Inside Stiles, Void felt the young Spark find the parts that made him a yako. He rolled his head, vertebrae popping as he fully embraced Void’s powers. The fox spirit took a firm hold, twisting their combined magics to allow it to manifest into a large, black fox. Golden light spilled from it's eyes while it's tails shifted restlessly. In the dark of the Preserve, it glowed with a black fire, flashes of golden-orange fox-fire flickering like burning embers rising into the night around it. He threw back his head and gave a scream that dropped the assembled to their knees before the fox launched itself at Scott, his two front paws slamming into the teen and shoving him through the slit in time and space. There was a flash of orange light and then he was gone.

art by Jade Merien

“No! What have you done?!” Allison screamed, fighting with a ferocity that would have proved impossible for the wolves to match.

But Stiles was not a wolf.

He shifted back to human, fully clothed and wearing the same feral grimace as he’d had when he confronted Scott. Kira shifted beside Liam, her own fox rising at her Alpha’s showing of power. Even her mother couldn’t do what Stiles could and it both thrilled and terrified her. She remembered how powerful Void was before, but now, integrated with Stiles' spark...she was just glad he was on their side.

“Allison. Allison. Allison.” Stiles said mockingly. “We really don’t understand what all the fuss is about. You didn’t want to date a werewolf. You’ve made that perfectly clear each time you tried to kill us. So, we really don’t understand why you’re mad at us.”

“You killed him!”

Stiles raised a single brow. “Scott is alive. For now. Whether or not he stays that way is really his own doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“We sent him Between to show him the truth, just like we're going to do to you. You think you’re better than we are. That we’re wrong and you’re right simply because you are human. You think it was our fault that all those people died. That it was Derek’s fault for his family being killed by your psychopathic, pedophile of an aunt. We're still not sure what Erica, Boyd and Isaac did to you to make you try and kill them and we can only assume it was jealousy that made you try and kill Kira, or petty vindictiveness for Liam, Danny, and Jackson.”

He crooked a finger and the shadows dragged Allison to him. He crouched on top of the nemeton. Eye to eye he saw her hatred and fear and a part of him relished in it.

“In the Between, Scott will see what the consequences of his actions are. But you…” he gently brushed a lock of hair out of flashing brown eyes. “You, little huntress, will feel what your family has done. What you have done. You will live all of the pain and fear you caused. All the horror inflicted on others shall be inflicted on you.”

Allison swallowed hard. "You're a monster."

Stiles snorted. "Take a look around. We're all monsters here, but at least we don't make excuses for what we're doing. If," he said, finger raised in emphasis. "And only if, you finally understand what you’ve done and taken responsibility for it. When your soul no longer thirsts for the blood of the innocent. When the magic of the world claims you are free of hatred and willing to actually see the truth of this world…then, and only then, will it give you back.”

“You think you’re so much better than me?” she hissed at him. “That you can play judge, jury, and executioner? How does that make you any different?!”

Stiles’ smirk was telling, “who said I would be your judge and juror? I do not control the Between, but feel free to tell the Old Gods just how you feel, Ally. I’m sure they’d be interested.”

Stiles placed a flat hand over her heart and pushed. “Tell Izanami-sama I said ‘hi!’," he sing-songed as ice-white hands reached out of the blackness to grasp her hair and shirt, pulling the thrashing young woman into the black before it sealed shut behind her.

He stared at the spot for a few more minutes before standing and brushing his hands off. “All right now. Who’s up for curly fries and shakes?”

When the others just stared at him, Kira giggled, breaking the tension.

“That’s it?” Isaac asked.

“Yup,” Stiles said, hopping down off the nemeton. “Oh, I almost forgot.”

He turned back to the stump and placed both hands on its scarred surface. Focusing on his connection to the Between, he searched for the thread that connected to the nemeton. He followed it backwards in time until he saw Deaton with a poisoned iron spike. The druid walking counterclockwise around the tree, the spike scoring the bark and causing it to rot from the inside out.

“I should have made him hurt more,” Stiles muttered. He pushed deeper, found the toxins and iron still inside the tree and pushed them out of the stump. Noxious green oozed out of the bark fizzling into smoke that disappeared into the night. He found Scott's Alpha spark twisted in the nemeton's roots and shoved it into the track the poison had taken. From the cleansed center, a small green sapling unfurled.

“Okay, cool, now I’m done.” He glanced up at the Pack, eyes dancing. “Fries?”

Derek heaved a huge sigh, shaking his head as he held out his hand to his mate. “Only you would want fries after all of that,” he groused.

“Dude~,” Stiles breathed, hand on heart like he was offended. “Curly fries are the God’s food, Der.”

Derek smiled, knowing exactly what his mate was doing. “Shut up, Stiles.”

Across town, Jackson and Danny had cornered Lydia in her room. They explained everything the Pack had found out. Everything that had happened since Stiles had become an Alpha. The banshee sat silently through it all. She was horrified with what Deaton had convinced her to do, but she was also hesitant to throw her lot in with a Pack that not only had Peter in it, a man she would never forgive for making her feel like she was going crazy, but also Void, who had tormented her and almost destroyed them all.

"What are they going to do to Scott and Allison?" she finally asked.

Jackson and Danny shared a look. 

"Stiles is going to strip Scott of his wolf," Danny said.

Lydia nodded. She expected something like that. "What else?"

Jackson shifted closer to Danny in preparation. Heaving a breath he muttered, "They'll be sent to a different plane."

When Lydia turned those steely-green eyes on him he screwed up his nerve to tell her the plan he had devised. "It's called Between. He's going to have them experience all the pain and suffering they've caused everyone first hand."

Lydia gasped, her hands covering her mouth. "He can't..."

"You all tried to kill us, Lydia," he said harshly. "You hexed us to die horrible deaths reliving the worst point in our lives. Did you really think he was just going to sit back and take that?"

Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

Danny kneeled down in front of her, his eyes a hard, unyielding teal. "But it did and now you have to deal with the consequences of your actions."

"I think I made a mistake."

Danny nodded. "That is the first thing you've said in a long time that I agree with. But Lydia, you need to understand that Stiles isn't that dorky kid that had a crush on you anymore. He's the first integrated spark-nogitsune in the world. He's an Alpha and he's mated to Derek. They are our Alphas. They protect us, care for us, love us. If you try and hurt him, Jackson and I, anyone in the Pack for that matter, won't hesitate to kill you. Not this time. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she said in a small voice. "What happens now?"

"Now we wait to see what our Alpha decides. Your fate is in his hands now." Danny stepped back towards the open window to stand beside Jackson. They were told to wait and that's what they'd do.

Across the room, Lydia dropped her head, her long hair obscuring the tears that fell silently. She felt incredibly stupid and petty and she hated feeling that way. Considering what Jackson had told her, Stiles had every right to kill her without remorse.

For once, she agreed with him.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Scott’s breath rattled in his chest as he lay staring at his ceiling. He didn’t understand at first. Had he had another attack? His mom had been worried about them getting worse. He remembered the doctor giving her this look and her bottom lip quivering the last time he’d been in the hospital. His dad had yelled at the doctor to fix him and then stood silently in the corner just watching Scott. It hadn’t been a good look.

He heard voices raised down stairs. A part of him wanted to hide under his bed to get away from them, but another part wanted to see just how bad things were going to get tonight.

He inched out of the doorway and crouched at the top of the stairs. He could hear his dad’s fist hit the wall and his mom’s voice screaming at him that this was enough, she was done. He crawled down a few more steps until he could see into the living room.

Rafael slammed Melissa up against the same wall he’d just punch a hole in. “$4,500! That little bastard is going to cost us another $4,500 and it’s just going to get worse,” he seethed. There was alcohol on his breath; cheap whiskey Melissa threw out whenever see saw it. He punched Melissa in the face, her left eye swelling almost immediately as she cried out.

“I should have smothered the little bastard in his sleep the first time he had an attack.”

Melissa shoved at Rafael’s chest inefficiently. “Get out!” she screamed at him. “We’re over Rafe, over! You hate being a father so much, get out. I never want to see you again.”

Rafael’s face flushed with anger. “You’re kicking me out? You can’t kick me out. I’m the fucking F.B.I.! I’m better than you, better than all of you!” He wrapped his hands around Melissa’s throat, his fingers digging into the back of her neck as he squeezed. He pulled her forward and slammed her head back against the wall with enough force the knock over several photos. Plaster rained down on her.

Melissa tried to breathe, tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. She felt the tightness in her chest, the burning. Rafael was still screaming at her. She felt her ribs crack when he slammed her against the sideboard. Her mother’s dishes shattering as they fell to the floor.

Her vision spotted. From the stairs, she heard her son scream and her blood ran cold.

Scott leapt from the steps onto his father’s back, hitting him over and over. He had the fleeting thought that this wasn’t right. That he was bigger than his seven-year-old body. That with one punch he’d have laid his father out on the living room floor. That there was something wrong with this entire situation.

Rafael dropped Melissa, who slowly slid down the wall to the floor. Her face was the consistency of ground hamburger and from the wet, gurgling sound and sharp, stabbing pain radiating up her side, she figured a rib had punctured her lung. She slumped over, her face making a muted thump on the blood speckled carpet.

Rafael tore Scott from his back, his face a sneer of pure distain and hate. “You little bastard,” he hissed. He shook Scott hard enough to rattle his teeth in his head, then threw him across the room into the tv. Scott covered his head with his arms, tucking himself into a small ball to avoid the shattering glass. He cried out as one long sliver pierced his arm.

Across the room he watched his mother try to breathe, blood bubbling up as she gasped his name, her arm out reaching for him.

Something clattered beside him drawing his attention. The house phone! If he could get to it…

He scrambled backwards as Rafael just stood there staring at him. “Go ahead and try,” he taunted. “They’ll never believe you. I’m a Fed and you’re just a kid, they’ll think it’s a prank.”

Scott’s hand closed around the phone. He didn’t know if his father was right, but he knew someone that would believe him.

The number was one he’d memorized just like he had his own. Heck, he was there about as much as his own. Claudia and Noah would believe him and if not, Stiles would make them believe him. He was his best friend, his brother, Stiles would always be there for him.

The dial tone seemed to take forever before it connected, as soon as someone picked up he was yelling into it.

“Please! You have to help me, dad’s trying to kill us. Mom’s hurt, please!”

There was silence on the other end of the line and Scott’s stomach dropped. His father’s demented grin got wider.

“I don’t have to do anything, Scotty,” the voice said. Scott’s eyes went wide. He franticly looked around the room. That was Stiles’ voice, but not from now. From the future. An older Stiles.

“When we were children,” Stiles continued unhurriedly, even as Rafael stalked closer.

It was like the world around them slowed down.

“I believed in you. My best friend. My brother. You called and I made mom call dad and saved you both, but not this time. You think you’re better than us. That you don’t need me. Need the Pack?”

Rafael bent down and grabbed a shard of glass.

“Then you figure a way out of this by yourself,” Stiles whisper-hissed into his ear.

Rafael straddled him, his arms up over his head, glass glinting in the flickering light.

“You got what you wanted, Scotty. You’re all alone.”

Scott screamed as the glass pierced his chest. His father’s manic laughter as he told Scott how worthless he was mixing with the sound of Stiles' voice.

In the distance, he heard a lone howl.

A Chemistry book slammed onto his desk, startling him awake. He grasped his chest as his lungs seized. Isaac stood beside him. His face carefully blank, wearing a scarf and long sleeves. Scott felt sweat drip down his spine. He was hot just seeing the other in all those layers.

“Harris assigned us as partners,” the teen said, jerking Scott’s attention back to him.

“What?”

“Partners,” Isaac repeated annoyed. “Harris assigned us as partners, so move over, I can’t sit by the wall.”

“What? Why? Where’s Stiles?”

Isaac gave him a funny look. “Who’s Stiles?”

“Stiles. Stilinski. Come on man, you know him, we’re on lacrosse together.”

Isaac eyed him wearily. “Yeah, I don’t think this is going to work,” he said, reaching for his book. “You aren’t on lacrosse, neither am I for that matter, and there is no one in school named Stilinski.”

He backed away slowly. “I’ll talk to Harris; I think you need to see the nurse. Maybe your oxygen is messed up.”

“My oxygen?” Scott asked confused.

Isaac gestured to the tank at Scott’s feet. He looked down and felt his entire body freeze. No, oh no. If he was on oxygen that meant the asthma had progressed to COPD. He was on borrowed time now.

He looked around the room wildly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw soft, wavy dark brown hair and dimples. He spun, mouth dropping open in dawning horror.

Allison was standing beside Lydia laughing. As he watched, Isaac walked over and looped a possessive arm over her shoulders. He bent down and pressed a kiss against the side of her mouth.

“What’s up with O2-boy?” he heard her ask.

“I think his levels are low or something, he actually thought we were on lacrosse together.”

“Dear Lord,” Lydia said snidely, rolling her eyes. “I don’t even get why he’s here. Wasn’t he in the hospital until last week?”

“I heard his mom can’t afford the bills anymore, so they brought him home.” Isaac shrugged, like it didn’t matter. Like his imminent death wasn’t a big deal. “Considering what his bastard of a dad did to me, I don’t even care. Harris said I can pair with Erica and Boyd instead.”

Allison rubbed a soothing hand up his spine. “McCall is an ass and I’m glad the F.B.I. finally fired him for taking bribes.”

Lydia reached out a gentle hand and placed it on Isaac’s arm. “You didn’t deserve what your dad did to you, Isaac, and I hope McCall rots in prison for looking the other way all these years.”

“His son probably isn’t much better,” Allison said. “That stuff tends to run in families.”

The three looked over at him with sneers and hard eyes. He felt his lungs and eyes burn. It wasn’t his fault. Whatever his dad did wasn’t his fault. He had nothing to do with any of this. He just wanted to be a normal high schooler. To have a girlfriend and his best friend around him.

A hiss caught his attention. He looked down at the oxygen tank beside him, his vision going spotty as he stared dumbly at the split in the line. Jackson slammed into his shoulder as he passed, the scissors in his hand barely registering.

“Like you could ever be on the team,” the jock sneered. “Fucking loser. Why don’t you just die already? No one wants you here. Hell, I hear you're practically killing your mom, making her work all those hours. She’d be better off without you dragging her down.”

Scott gasped, opening his mouth to defend himself. But nothing came out. As his vision swam, he thought he heard an echo of his own voice, shouting those words at Stiles.

‘You killed your mom!’ he’d accused. Now he was doing the same.

As he slid from his chair, his breath so shallow he couldn’t feel it himself over the burning, he thought maybe Stiles was right. Maybe he was the problem.

Maybe everyone would be better if he wasn’t there.

The room faded out to nothing.

The next time he opened his eyes, he saw the clear blue of the school's pool and cried.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

She awoke to the feeling of fingers on her stomach. It made the bottom drop out of it and her heart stutter. The fingers trailed over her skin, up her chest, down to her groin and legs, then back to her stomach.

She jerked when sharp nails dug into her flesh and clawed their way up her stomach, leaving deep furrows that mended even as they sliced her skin.

A fluttery breath by her ear had her body clenching in anticipation. Good or bad she wasn’t sure. Maybe a bit of both.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” it whispered. “Such a good boy for me.”

Allison sucked in a sharp breath. Oh God. She knew that voice. Those words.

“Tell me about them,” the voice commanded, tone hardening as something was shoved harshly inside her. “Tell me about the hidden tunnels and I’ll make you feel sooo good.”

Kate’s voice washed over her in a harsh cackle as the item hit something inside her that made her entire body clench. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to love him. She said she loved him.

“Oh, I do,” Kate murmured, licking a hot stripe up the side of Allison’s neck. “Like a pet, just waiting to be broken. That’s what I’m doing, you know? Breaking you. You’ll be a good little bitch when I’m done with you. Daddy and I will use you to track down all the other mutts and put them down as well.” The item inside her hit that spot again and again as her nails dug viscously into her gut. Pleasure and pain all twisted together with terror and guilt.

“Now tell me about them and I’ll let you come,” her sultry voice said. Allison screamed as her body clenched violently. He didn’t want this anymore. He should never have listened to her in the first place. Tears fell freely as he sobbed, begging for release, for her to just stop.

"Please," she said brokenly.

Above her in the dark, she heard her aunt laugh victoriously.

She awoke sharply, in excruciating pain. Fire raced across her nerve endings, bubbling, and boiling the flesh on her side. The smell was atrocious. Something between a campfire and burnt bacon that made her stomach heave. She glanced at her companion; Boyd, chained to the same fence she was on with slices down his arms and chest that matched her own, their bodies arching as electricity shot through them. Her wrists broke and didn’t heal. The electricity keeping them human. Her teeth cracked when she slammed her mouth shut on a scream. Allison remembered making those cuts, a giddy edge to her heartbeat fueled by adrenalin, it made her sick now, knowing how it felt to be carved up while chained. Knowing you couldn’t get away.

A whimper of pain drew her attention to the floor. A body lashed to a chair, lacrosse jersey hanging limply from thin shoulders. She sucked in a sharp breath when pain-filled honey brown eyes found hers, whispered Erica’s name.

Then she was in Stiles’ body. Tied up and already hurting from the beating her grandfather had inflicted. This felt so much worse than she remembered. Her lungs burned – cracked ribs. Her eyes and mouth stung – bruises already forming from the split lip and black eye. The feeling of bone sliding over bone in her cheek made her whimper – broken jaw, fractured orbital socket. She had heard the diagnoses, but she hadn’t imagined the pain.

The metal door slammed open and she watched in horror as her grandfather and two other men came in. There was a pipe in one of their hands. A hammer in another’s. Her grandfather had Stiles’ lacrosse stick. She knew things were going to get bad. That things had gotten bad, after he’d sent her away.

They circled, taunting the teens, not caring that at least Stiles was human. He ran with the Pack and that made him a traitor to mankind.

When the first blow from the pipe shattered his left knee, she vomited. When the hammer crushed his fingers, she screamed. Her grandfather bent down and seized her chin, forcing her head back at an angle that threatened to break it.

“If you won’t give up your Alpha,” Gerard sneered, spit hitting her cheek. “Then I’ll just have to go after your little friend. That beta that kept pawing at my granddaughter. He’d make a lovely lampshade, don’t you think?”

She struggled harder, knowing Gerard was taunting Stiles because of Scott, but also because Stiles’ mom had been raised Jewish. While he didn’t really celebrate anything in particular, such a slur wouldn’t be tolerated. She knew that because he knew that and somehow, just like with Derek and Kate, Allison was able to understand their feelings, their motivations, and desires.

Stiles was furious and terrified and those emotions were burning through the pain he was engulfed in.

Gerard laughed in his face, then stood back and hefted the crosse from the net end. “You’ll tell me what I want to know one way or another, boy. Even if I have to break every bone in your body.”

“I’ll never tell you.” She heard herself say. “Even if you kill me.”

“And what if I let Marvin here take the little bitch into the other room and have some fun with her? Would you tell me then or will you sacrifice her as well?”

Allison stopped breathing. He wouldn’t.

The hunter with the pipe, aka. Marvin, leered at Erica and rubbed his hand over his crotch. “I ain’t picky, Argent. I’d fuck the twink too, but you gotta leave his mouth alone. I like a bit of skull fuckery every now and again.”

Gerard curled his lips in distaste, but didn’t stop him from going over to Stiles and grabbing his already broken jaw and forcing dirty fingers in his mouth. She tried to bite, but Gerard hit her over the kidneys and she gasped, allowing the man to continue fucking her mouth with his fingers.

She gaged, tried to vomit and found herself on her side when Marvin tipped her over. He loomed over her, his hand holding her mouth open while the other fumbled for the zipper of his jeans.

‘No,’ she screamed in her head. ‘NONONONONOO!!!!’

“You’ll tell me,” her grandfather said haughtily. “You’ll tell me or they’ll be next.”

She didn’t know how, but she knew she never said. She never broke her word, even when her entire world crumbled around her. The smell of blood and come followed her into the darkness.

Once again, she was in the dark. She didn’t know where she was. Could barely see a few inches in front of her face. She held out her hands, wincing when they hit something cold and damp. She rubbed her fingers over it, inching along until she realized she was in a room. A square room with no doors and only a single window the size of a shoe box. Rusty iron grates covered it, though she could wiggle her fingers out of it if she avoided the sharp, jaggedly broken glass.

She coughed, frowning. Then coughed again, the smell of smoke getting stronger. Around her, the blackness flickered with orange flames. She pressed her back against the wall with the window. ‘No,’ she thought. ‘Please, not this.’

Something bumped her leg. She looked down into two pairs of soft green eyes. “What’s happening, Uncle Peter?” they asked, childish voices raised in querulous inquiry.

She kneeled, drawing the twin boys, barely three-years old, into her arms. They were human. The youngest sons of Talia and Erik Hale. Fredrick and Merrick. She felt the tears start. The growl building in her throat that she wouldn’t release because she had to be strong. She couldn’t let them see her fear.

They’d been in the library playing Guess Who? It was just another Tuesday. Talia had rushed in with Samantha and Elisabeth on her heels and ushered them down into the tunnels.

‘Hunters,’ she’d said fearfully. ‘Mountain ash.’

He’d collected his pregnant wife and the boys. Helped Elisabeth and Samuel collect their baby and two older children. Erik was already in the basement, waiting for them. They’d escape through the false wall; they’d get out and then he’d go after the hunters who dared to break the Code.

But the wall didn’t move and the smoke started to choke them. They crawled on the ground, trying to get as much air as they could. Erik broke the only window to let more in, but it was too small and barred to allow anyone out and the oxygen they desperately needed to survive also fed the flames that consumed their only way out. Above, he heard another window shatter. A lone, high-pitched howl echoed from the forest; he prayed that meant Cora had gotten out. She was the only one he didn’t remember seeing. Derek and Laura were supposed to still be at school.

“Uncle Peter,” little Freddy said, staring up into his eyes, skin starting to blacken from soot and ooze red from bubbling flesh. “You’ll stay with us, won’t you? You won’t let us die alone?”

“I don’t want to die!” his brother screamed, throwing himself against Allison. Her hand slid over his head. In horror she felt clumps of his thick black hair come away in her hand. His skin sloughing off to splat wetly against the concrete floor.

Allison choked out a sob, drawing them even closer, knowing they had so little time left. His unborn child, his nephews, his wife, and his sisters. His brothers-in-law. They’d all die tonight and for what? What purpose did killing them achieve? They’d never hurt a human, hell, half of them were human. The family had never hurt anyone who didn’t try and hurt them first. They protected their territory. Protected the humans and supernaturals in town.

They’d done as Gerard had asked and in return, they got this. Death.

On the breeze, she smelled Kate’s perfume and heard her laughter as her family burned to death around her. Her skin bubbled and melted, her mind consumed with grief and hate and fear. If she survived this, she’d make them pay. She’d make them all pay.

She raised her face to the sliver of moonlight through the broken window and howled. Stiles was right, she thought brokenly as the flames licked up her legs and burned the two boys to death. He wasn’t a monster.

The real monsters were her and her family.

She gasped one last, broken breath before the blackness swallowed her whole.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Peter handed Chris a glass of water. The hunter had given up alcohol when Allison was born, but tonight, he had been ready to pick it up again.

“How long will she be lost in there?” he muttered brokenly.

“Until she stops hating anyone different and starts being accountable for her own actions.”

Chris choked out a bitter laugh. He glanced up into cool blue eyes and gave a lopsided smile. “I have no idea how long that will take,” he said. “I should. I should be able to say ‘then she’ll be home tomorrow,’ but I can’t and that guts me. Fuck, Peter, I’m a horrible father, aren’t I?”

“No,” Peter said softly. He sat beside Chris, not touching him, but close enough to lend him a bit of support. “You’re not a bad father, Christopher. You’ve been fighting a losing battle with your family since forever. You’ve tried to teach Allison to be honorable.” He sighed. “She just has a bit too much of Victoria in her to be kind.”

Chris snorted out a choking laugh that turned into a sob. Peter didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his shoulders and chest, allowing the other man to collapse against him, his chest heaving as he sobbed into Peter’s shirt.

“She’s all I have left.”

“No,” Peter soothed, rubbing his hands through Chris’s hair and down his back. He pressed a barely-there kiss against the crown of Chris’ head. “She’s not. You still have me. You have Stiles and the Pack. Melissa and Noah. We’re here for you.”

He took hold of Chris’ face and lifted it enough to stare the hunter in the eyes. “You have me,” he breathed across Chris’s lips. "You’ll always have me.”

“Peter…” Chris groaned when Peter’s lips found his. All those years they lost just falling away until they were two seventeen-year-olds sneaking kisses behind the bleachers. Chris’ chest tightened almost to the point of pain for a brief moment. He gasped, eyes widening with realization when he saw the small black triskele form on the side of Peter’s neck and knew his own was burned across his ribs.

Peter was his and he was Peter’s.

Forever.

The diner was loud in a weirdly subdued way. The Pack took up two booths in the back with the rest of the shop studiously ignoring them. It wasn’t that they looked out of place. A bunch of teens, their parents and Derek, who most of the town realized was acceptable to the Sheriff, although they didn’t really understand it. He thought that was odd, considering how Stiles was currently situated in his lap, his arms around Derek’s neck as he alternated between stealing Derek’s fries, mouthing at his chin, and rapid firing comments into a half-dozen different conversations.

It wasn’t even an unusual occurrence. After any fight that didn’t involve them nearly dying, they came to this same diner. They met Noah and Melissa here with Peter at least once a week and the teens often stopped by after lacrosse or mid-terms, so Derek really wasn’t sure why half the restaurant was staring at them and the other have was staring at anything but.

“You okay, son?” Noah asked, pressing his shoulder against Derek’s.

“Something’s wrong.” The wolves and Kira all stopped mid-sentence at his words.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Stiles said flippantly, stealing another fry.

“Half the people in here are staring at us and the other half look scared to death, Red. Something is wrong.”

“And I’m telling you it’s nothing. They’re feeling the effects of the nemeton, that’s all.”

Erica leaned forward, her elbows planted on the table top, “What effects?”

Stiles sighed, leaning back against Derek’s broad chest. “To be able to cut the nemeton, Deaton first had to poison it. To weaken its connection to the Between. With each sacrifice it became more polluted. When we gave it the wolf, I wrapped my spark and the Alpha spark together and used them to push the poison out and fill it with clean energy. That’s how it was able to start growing again.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with this?” Boyd asked, arm draped over Erica’s shoulder.

“As the nemeton re-grows, it’s influence will push out until it envelops the entire town. Supes will feel it first, then anyone who’s ‘sensitive’ to magic. Then the mundanes.”

Isaac snorted from the other booth at his words. “Really, mundanes?”

“You have a better term scarf-boy?” Stiles said, tossing a scrunched napkin at the curly head with a grin.

“Focus, please, Stiles,” Melissa broke in quickly. “Should they be feeling it this soon though?”

“No, that’s all me and Derek. We’ve still got some left over nemeton magic in us and they’re reacting to that. Give it a day or two and they won’t look at us twice, at least, not for that,” he said with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows and making Isaac and Liam fake retch and the girls cackle. Boyd just shook his head, a small smile flirting around his mouth. There was a reason he was Derek’s favorite.

“What should we expect?” Noah asked, a frown marring his features. “Will people start doing things they wouldn’t normally?”

“Nah, actually, things should start to calm down. We’ll keep up patrols and such, but otherwise, the town should become a haven for the supernatural. Actually, I should probably check on the wards and see what I can do to tie the nemeton into them.”

“Tomorrow,” Derek said lowly, snagging the last fry before Stiles could. “Do it tomorrow, after we get some sleep. We also need to deal with Lydia.”

“Gah, yeah. Shit, I was kinda avoiding that, but we can’t put it off much longer. Someone text Jacks and Danny and tell them they’re off babysitting duty, would you?” he asked the Pack at large.

“Done!” Kira chirped. “They said they’ll see us at home and to bring them two double burger meals and Diet Cokes. I’ll put the order in to go.”

“Why Diet Coke?” Isaac asked suddenly. “I never did understand that. Soda is bad for you, why would you ruin the bad by making it Diet? Just embrace the sugar and caffeine like God intended.”

Thus starting a debate within the Pack that lasted well into the early morning hours after Stiles and Derek had slipped away to their room.

Derek curled himself around his mate. Pressing a kiss against the silvery scars from his bite.

“You okay, Red?”

Stiles gave a soul-deep sigh. “Yes. No. Maybe? I don’t regret doing it, but I don’t feel good about it either.”

“It was the best choice,” Derek said softly as he pulled him closer. “It’s up to them now to figure things out. To grow up a bit.”

“I hate what it’s going to do to Melissa and Chris though. I can’t tell them when they’ll be back. If they’ll be back at all and I hate that for them.”

“The sins of the children are not the sins of the father…or mother in this case. Scott and Allison need to own up to their own faults. Their own sins.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what that quote says, Der,” Stiles groused.

“Actually, it does,” Derek smugly returned. “’The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son: the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him.’ Ezekial 18.20. Shakespeare bastardized it in the Merchant of Venice as ‘the sins of the father are to be laid upon the children’.”

“Smarty-wolf,” Stiles chuckled. “Okay, okay, I get it, it doesn’t stop me from feeling bad for them though.”

“I know. Just like I know you sent Peter to Chris and why you didn’t say anything when Noah left to go to Melissa’s. You’re a good Alpha, Stiles. You care about everyone, even the ones you shouldn’t. Now, try and close your eyes, please. We both need sleep.”

“I promise nothing, Der, but if you want to try and bribe me with kisses, I might be willing to negotiate.”

Derek barked out a sharp laugh, rolling them until Stiles was under him, his breath warm as it fanned across his lips.

“I love you, Stiles,” he whispered.

Stiles looked up at him with a warm smile, his arms lopped around Derek’s neck, fingers trailing through the soft hair.

“I know.”

His shout of delight when Derek pounced made the entire Pack smile, their bonds reverberating with warmth.

They were okay now, the bonds sang. Everything would be okay.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Stiles stared up at the lit second story window. He could hear Lydia pacing, the soft hiccup of sound as she tried to hold back her tears. Derek had wanted to come with him, unsure if Stiles would be able to do what needed to be done. Jackson and Danny had reported in, she seemed to understand what she’d done was wrong, but she hadn’t fully grasped the concept of repentance and that was a problem for the fox. He just couldn’t understand how she could go after them all like she had. Even if she thought Peter or Void were controlling him, why hex the others? Why not try and find out the truth herself?

He sighed as he leapt up to the window, taking a page out of Derek’s handbook to enter her room. Lydia’s head snapped up, her eyes puffy and red, tear tracks visible through the make-up on her cheeks.

“Lydia,” he said evenly, settling himself on the window sill.

“Stiles…” she whispered brokenly before shaking her head and pulling herself together. Her back ramrod straight, her head tipped to the side slightly. “Alpha Stilinski.”

Stiles flashed dark eyes at her, his face impassive even as her heartbeat sped up. “We have things to discuss, Lydia,” he said neutrally. “Death and damnation to explain.”

The banshee swallowed loudly even as she backed up to sit on the edge of her bed. “Void.”

“No, not in the way you’re thinking,” Stiles responded. “Void is not in control of me. I’m not in control of him. We’re integrated, one body and mind.”

“I don’t understand.” She frowned, confused.

“Sparks have the unique ability to do pretty much whatever the hell we want if we have enough belief and power. The last time Void was in my head, I had no idea how to control my magic, and he was starving. Imagine starving for 60 years. For lack of a better term, he was feral. He lashed out at everyone he perceived to be a threat – Noshiko, Deaton, the Pack, the cops, even me.”

“Why? I understand Noshiko, but why the others?”

“Deaton was working against him, trying to force him back into the box, to make him starve some more. The Pack was threatening his ability to get his revenge and was hurting me by simultaneously ignoring and relying on me.” He took a ragged breath, remembering the nightmares, the visions of his dad throwing the bottle at him after cursing his very existence.

“Same thing with the cops. They were trying to stop him. Dad had hurt me emotionally. And Void hurt me because I wouldn’t give in.”

“He hurt people trying to hurt you and he hurt you because you wouldn’t submit? How does that make any sense?”

He grinned humorlessly. “Feral mindset. If I had agreed to let him in, he wouldn’t have tortured me, but because I didn’t, and he needed my body and magic, I was just another enemy.” Stiles shrugged, it was a weird form of circular logic, but when you’re literally going crazy, weird was as good as you were going to get.

“The point was, last time, I fought him. This time I didn’t. I made a deal, my body and magic for his memories and abilities.”

“How can you believe he’d keep such a deal? He killed so many people!” Lydia hissed, shaking in anger.

“Because I’m a Spark.”

Stiles ran a hand through his hair, trying to explain. “When I went to Void, I spoke to him on his level. He was starving for chaos, so I fed him. I fed him my magic, my Spark. Let’s be honest, this place will never be calm, there will always be some form of chaos, and between it and my Spark, I was able to feed him enough that he was sated. That got rid of the crazy pants part of his issues. The next step was to willingly let him in. I gave him access to my mind, my soul, and in doing so, I have access to his. He’s darkness and I’m light. We fit together, balance each other, and with the connection to the Pack, we’re grounded enough that we were able to fully integrate.”

“I’m not a nogitsune. Not Void. But I’m also not just a Spark anymore. Not just Stiles.”

“How is that a good thing? What if he takes over again?”

“He can’t, because we are one person. One mind, one body, one soul. I was never truly kind, Lydia. You have to have known that. I designed a way to kill Peter the first time. Took all the abuse and pain and damage from every supernatural around, my ‘friends’ included.”

She winced at that, knowing she was one of the ones that had hurt him.

“I will kill to protect those I love with a manic ferocity and that was before Void was even a blip on our radar.”

He stood, crossing the room to stare down at her, his fingers under her chin to lift it so he could stare into her eyes.

“I was never kind and I am not forgiving. I can’t afford to be. Unlike Scott, or even Derek, I will do anything I have to, to protect this town. To protect my Pack. And if that means I’m bathed in blood, then so be it.”

Lydia trembled in his hands. “What does that mean for me?”

“That depends on you. I know Deaton told you the balance needed to be maintained. That there could be only one Alpha in the territory, which is bullshit because both Noshiko and Satomi were here and he had no issue with them. But I need to know what else he told you. What your thought process was when you went to the Loft and actively participated in hexing it to not only kill, but torture in the worst way possible, the people who thought of you as a friend, as a sister, and Pack Mate.”

Lydia’s eyes went wide as she realized what he was saying. To a wolf, Pack was everything. They were family and she’d tried to slaughter them, her brothers and sisters.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, finally getting it. “I didn’t…I don’t know what I was thinking, I really don’t. I was so mad, and jealous and afraid and I just…thought I could hurt them, the way they hurt me and…”

“But who had hurt you, Lydia?” he asked tenderly. “We’ve all been hurt by each other and we’ve all hurt each other. But in the last few months, who of the Pack had actively tried to hurt you?”

“I…” her eyes went fuzzy, a frown furrowing her forehead. “I don’t….”

Stiles paused, his fingers gripping her chin tighter, a thought flickering at the edges of his consciousness as she rubbed the back of her neck in agitation.

“Lydia,” he muttered quietly. “Lydia, have you been having headaches?”

“What?”

“Headaches, nightmares, missing time. Have you been having any of these?”

“I…I don’t know,” she wailed, eyes huge. “I mean, headaches, yes, for months now, but that’s just because of my banshee abilities.”

“And who told you this?”

“I…” her breath caught behind her teeth, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Deaton. He said my abilities were growing, that I was bound to get headaches because of it.”

“Lyds, let me see the back of your neck.”

“Why?”

“Because you keep rubbing it.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes,” he said softly. “You do. Turn around, Lyds.”

Lydia sucked in a sharp breath but did as he asked, shifting to sit sideways on the bed so Stiles could lift her hair. There, at the C2, 3, and 4 vertebrae at the base of her skull were three thin puncture marks. Stiles snarled savagely, making the banshee flinch. He smoothed over the marks, his fingers gentle even as he seethed internally.

“Someone erased my memories, didn’t they?” she whispered fearfully, thick tears rolling down her cheeks as he gripped her shoulder in silent support.

“Yes.”

“Scott?”

“Probably.”

“Why?” she hiccupped, voice cracking. “Why would he do that to me?”

“To keep you in line. To make sure you didn’t question why they were doing what they were doing.” He shrugged. “There are a lot of reasons.”

“Can you fix it?” she asked brokenly. “Can you fix me?”

Stiles stepped back slightly, thinking. He’d never attempted to do a memory retrieval before and was a bit hesitant to attempt it by himself. But the only other person who had was…

“I can try, but I won’t do it alone.”

“No, no, you can’t! Stiles, you can’t let that bastard near me again!” She cried out, agitatedly jerking out of his hold and stalking back and forth across the room.

“Lydia,” he said softly, cutting her off and gathering her close. “I swear to you, Peter won’t hurt you again. I’ll be right there, hell, I’ll have him connect us if that makes you feel better, and Derek will be right beside Peter. You know if he tried to hurt me Derek would rip his throat out, but Peter’s different now. Anchored in a way he never was before.”

He pushed her back enough to look into fear-filled eyes. “He was feral when he hurt you and I know that doesn’t excuse it, because he basically raped your mind and I can swear to you I know how fucked up and terrifying that feels, but we killed him, Lyds. You and me. We killed him and whatever he experienced when he was dead re-set his crazy scale.”

She choked out a broken laugh. “You can’t possibly think he’s ‘normal’ now,” she huffed.

He gave her a crooked smile. “No more so than any of us, but I swear to you that he’s changed. I swear it, Lyds,” he said, eyes dark and Alpha red.

“You won’t let him hurt me again?” she asked in a small voice.

“I swear. We’ll figure out what happened. Get your memories back.”

“And what happens if it really was me? If I did all this because I’m as broken and twisted inside as Void was?”

He smoothed a hand over her hair, his lips pursed. “Then we deal with it.”

“You mean, you’ll kill me.”

Stiles tipped her head up, eyes flashing. “We deal with it. I didn’t kill Scott and Allison. I sent them into the Between to learn from their mistakes. You already are, but before anything else, we need to know the truth and that means you need to have your memories back. Okay?”

Lydia blew out a shaky breath, her eyes huge and fearful, but determined. She wrapped her arms around his waist and nodded once.

“Call Peter.”

-tbc-

Chapter Text

“Are you sure about this?” Peter asked his Alpha as Derek and Jackson crouched beside Lydia.

“No, but what other choice do we have? She deserves to know.”

“I don’t mean about the memories,” Peter dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Obviously that needs to be attended to, I meant about me being the one to do it?”

Stiles glanced at the banshee and then at Peter, who was biting his lip in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. He wrapped a hand around the back of the wolf’s neck, squeezing lightly to calm his Second. “I know you never wanted to hurt her, Peter. But I also know that the two of you need to sit down and actually talk about what happened as well. Right now, she’s scared. Of the missing memories and of you and she has that right. You have to acknowledge that, even if you would never do it now, you did it then and that’s going to take time for the two of you to work through.”

Peter swallowed convulsively, glancing back at Lydia who looked pale and scared. “I wouldn’t,” he said quietly, knowing that Derek and Jackson could hear him. “I wouldn’t hurt any of them, not now. They’re Pack. Rodzina. [Family].”

“I know,” Stiles said simply.

Peter caught Lydia’s eyes across the room. The young woman sucked in a sharp breath and then blew it out. Nodding sharply to something Jackson said, his hand clutched in hers. They may not be together anymore, but they still cared for each other. She stood and walked over to Peter.

“I’m still mad at you,” she said harshly.

“You deserve to be.”

“If you do it again, I’ll carve your kidneys out and feed them to you.”

Peter winced even as he smiled gently and held out a hand for her to take. “I’ll let you and Stiles would probably help you cook them.”

She gave a nervous little smile at that. “Fine, but Stiles comes with us,” she directed, taking his hand. She trembled slightly, but held his eye. He’d always thought she was the stronger of the two of them.

“Of course, my dear,” he said, leading her to her living room couch. Her mother was gone for the night, no one really cared where. “You know this is going to hurt, there’s no way for me to stop that, but Jackson and Derek will be taking as much of the pain as they can.”

“I understand.”

“Alpha?” Peter asked, his fingers trailing over the nape of Stiles’ neck, even as the teen turned to glance at him over his shoulder. Derek crouched beside him clutching his hand worriedly.

“We need to find out when the tampering started and what was done. Don’t worry about me, just focus on Lydia.”

Peter inclined his head and motioned with his chin for Jackson to take his place. He mirrored Derek’s position, clutching Lydia’s hand and breathing with her. Lydia and Stiles twined their fingers together, gave one final nod to Peter, and screamed.

The school was loud. It always was. The hallway full of students going about their days in blissful ignorance. She felt fuzzy. Disconnected from everyone. Was she getting sick?

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Erica and Boyd flinch from Allison when the brunette flounced by. But that didn’t make any sense. Why would they flinch from Allison?

The main doors opened and Stiles shuffled in. He looked horrible. He had an angry red bruise on his cheek and sunken eyes and was limping, eyes downcast. Erica and Boyd flocked to him, their arms going around his waist and shoulders, holding him upright, nuzzling his chin, and keeping him close. She didn’t understand. Why would they care that he was injured? How had he gotten injured? The last thing she remembered was the club, or rather, ramming through the club.

Jackson, she thought franticly, turning her attention back to the hallway, searching for the former kanima, now werewolf. She sighed, catching sight of him in the crowd even as something pricked the back of her neck.

“Hey!” Allison said happily, eyes overly bright as she flung an arm over Lydia’s shoulder. “We should go out, now that everything is calm. A double date, you and Jackson and Scott and I.”

“I…what?”

“How about bowling? That would be fun, right?”

“What are you talking about? We barely survived and…”

Allison’s face went hard. The arm around Lydia’s neck a touch too tight as she leaned in close, her voice taking on a deeper tone. “Of course we survived. Scott and I were there to help. We’d never let anything happen to you, Lydia.”

In a heartbeat the sweet, dimpled Allison was back, her voice normal sounding again. “We should totally go out together. Just the four of us. We’re your friends, after all. We’re the ones you can trust.”

The hallway faded, turning fuzzy and torn on the edges as the scene reset. It was a Pack meeting in Derek’s loft. The Hale Pack was on one side of the large dinning table, the McCall Pack on the other. Derek and Scott were arguing again, which was nothing new. They always argued and it always came down to the same thing.

“I’m not your Beta, Derek! I’m an Alpha and I’ll do what is right for my Pack!”

“You’re going to get them all killed! You can’t reason with every supernatural or hunter out there!”

Lydia sighed, staring around the room, annoyed and tired of the whole thing. Erica was gnashing her fangs at Scott, Isaac was trying to turn himself invisible in the corner, Boyd was a silent bulwark behind Derek and Peter, fucking Peter was cloaked in the shadows of the spiral staircase like the damn boogieman.

“Oh my God, Scott!” Stiles yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. “For once, will you please just listen to the guy! Someone is killing people. Ritualistic slaughter of the very bad kind! You can’t just let them go!”

“I’m the Alpha, Stiles, and I say we do. You can’t just kill everyone you don’t like!”

“It’s not about liking them, Scott, it’s about protecting the town. Protecting the Pack!”

“And that’s what I’m doing, protecting us!”

“You stubborn…”

“This is bullshit,” Jackson snarled, pushing his way between Stiles and Scott, getting in Stiles’ face and snarling. “Scott’s the True Alpha, we listen to him.”

He turned to look directly at Lydia, who was frowning, Scott and Stiles never argued. “We follow our Alpha,” Jackson said, eyes a vibrant, neon blue.

Lydia sucked in a harsh breath, feeling like she couldn’t get enough air, even as Jackson stalked closer. “We follow our Alpha; he knows what’s best for us. He’ll protects us.”

Lydia felt her head nod even as her mind screamed. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t what happened!

The room slowly dissolved once more.

“I want him dead,” Scott snarled, eyes flashing red as he paced back and forth in the back room of the veterinary clinic.

“Patience,” Deaton said from his work table. He was mixing something foul smelling in a mortar, muttering broken bits of Latin and Gaelic under his breath, a small wooden box sat beside him. She thought it looked familiar, but she couldn't seem to focus on it.

“No!” Scott slammed a clawed hand on the surgery table. “He questioned me. Me! Said I wasn’t his Alpha. Who does he think he is? He’s just human, can’t even fight worth a damn and he’s questioning me like he's my equal.” He growled as his claws ripped long gashes in the table.

He stared at Deaton through sickly yellow-red eyes. “I want Stiles Stilinski dead.”

“He had a point, Scott. About the Harpies. They were eating babies and…”

Scott whirled on her. Wrapping his hand around her throat and lifting her off her feet, he slammed her back against the wall, knocking her breathless.

“Are you fucking siding with him?!” he snapped. “He’s human, Lydia. He has no idea what he’s talking about.” He leaned in close, sniffing her neck and snarling. “Then again, you’re practically human as well. Are you a traitor too?”

Allison sidled closer to his side, fingering a ring dagger with hard eyes. Lydia tried to swallow down a sharp spike of fear. She couldn’t defend herself if she couldn’t breathe!

“Lydia can’t be a traitor,” Allison said sweetly. “Because we don’t put up with traitors, right, Scott?”

“Right. All traitors need to die. Don’t you agree, Lydia?” he threatened.

She nodded quickly, her lungs screaming and lips turning blue. Scott was crazy. Stiles was right, there was something wrong, something….

“Now, Lydia,” Deaton said, coming around the other side of Scott. He had that foul smelling concoction smeared across his fingers. “You must understand. Our purpose is to maintain the balance.”

He reached out with claw tipped fingers and tapped Scott’s hand, the wolf dropping her to the floor even as her brain tried to figure out why his fingers were clawed. Deaton crouched beside her and used his free hand to lift her chin, smearing the mixture over the bruises. Pin pricks pressed against her spine.

“And Stiles Stilinski threatens that balance,” he murmured as her eyes watered and her throat and nose burned from the fumes. A sharp, stabbing pain ripped through her thoughts, making her cry out. “He cannot be allowed to fracture the Pack. Scott is the only Alpha that Beacon Hills needs. Do you understand? Anyone that threatens the Pack must be eliminated. It’s for everyone’s well-being.”

“But…”

Deaton’s eyes were almost black as they bore into hers, the pressure on her neck threatening to make her pass out. “The balance must be maintained.”

Lydia nodded slowly; her head fuzzy and tongue thick in her mouth. “The balance must be maintained,” she murmured.

Deaton smiled.

Lydia slowly came out of the trance. Her head was splitting but now she knew.

“From the beginning,” she whispered, shaking. “He’s been messing with me from the very beginning.”

Jackson pulled her into his lap, rocking her as Derek rubbed soothing circles over Stiles’ neck as the Alpha came up out of the memories as well. Peter and Stiles grimaced at each other, but the older wolf was absolutely aghast at what had happened. He’d used her powers to bring him back to life, sure, and he’d semi-consciously tried to influence her actions, but he’d never warped her memories so bad that almost none of her experiences were accurate. That was…that was just monstrous.

Peter walked around the couch until he could kneel down in front of Lydia. She was openly crying, her make-up smudged and her entire body shaking. He cautiously brushed the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks, drying her tears.

“I’m so sorry, my dear. No one deserves to have their memories altered like that. And I am truly, truly sorry for the role I played in all of it.”

Lydia shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered, shocking the others. “Deaton did this. He used whatever that paste was and a wolf’s claws and…”

She looked up at him, tears spilling over. “He twisted everything. Every thought, every memory. None of it was real.”

Peter grimaced. “As much as it pains me to say, my part in it was real. What I did to you, those memories weren’t altered. It was just your relationship to Scott. Deaton reinforced his position as Alpha in your mind. Altered who was important to you.”

Lydia gave a watery laugh. She dashed at her tears in frustration. “So, I should focus on you being an asshole and not on my best friend helping to twist my thoughts around?”

Peter chuckled warmly, brushing a hand over her strawberry-blond hair, scenting her lightly. “Asshole is such a crass turn of phrase. I prefer opportunistic.”

The smile dropped as he turned serious. “You were always brilliant, my dear, and resilient. You will bounce back from this. The Pack will help.”

“Why?” she said softly, glancing at Peter and then Stiles. “This is the second time my mind has been invaded. Why would you take the chance that I could be used like this again?”

Stiles reached out and grasped her hand tightly. “Because you were used. None of this was your fault, but now that we know, we can help you so it never happens again. We can protect you.”

She took a shuddering breath. Slowly she reached out for Peter’s hand. Clutching the two men like a lifeline.

“Promise?”

-tbc-

Chapter Text

The coffee shop was an innocuous place to meet. Some girl Lydia should probably recognize but didn’t care enough to think about was manning the register, her falsely cheery voice grating on her nerves like they were exposed wires and every breath was drawing electricity through them. There were a few college kids at a front booth complaining about their professor and their upcoming midterms; Lydia sneered at them even as she stared out the window and pretended that she couldn’t hear them.

She hated this town and everything it stood for. Everything it had taken from her. Eight months. She just needed to get through these last eight months and then she could point her car east and never come back.

The bell jingled over the door, but she didn’t bother looking. Her body knew who it was without ever looking. Peter Hale slipped into the seat opposite her, his blue sweater vest making his eyes pop, even if it did make him look like a smarmy car dealer. He slid a small pouch across the table, the velvet a deep, blood red with an intricate triquetra embroidered on it.

She fingered the fabric, her brow raising in inquiry.

“Empathic protection. I made some inquiries. Apparently, your connection to the Veil as a banshee makes you more susceptible to empathic attack. I’d suggest a tattoo, something that can’t be lost or easily removed, but in the meantime, this necklace should help.”

“That’s…” she blew out a breath, her shoulders slumping. “Thank you, Peter. I appreciate it.”

“I know you don’t believe me, but you’re Pack. This family, it’s all I have left and Stiles… Stiles is the Alpha I always wanted. The Alpha I wanted to be.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh, spreading his hands in entreaty. “I think we both know that even now, I could never hold a candle to him, he doesn’t just care for us, he loves us.”

She nodded, her voice faint as she whispered, “he’d burn the world down for the Pack.”

Peter slowly covered her hand with his. “That includes you, Lydia,” he said gently, waiting for her to meet his eyes. “Scott’s actions are not on you. He doesn’t blame you; you have to know that.”

“I blame me.”

Peter sighed, pulling his hand back. “That will take time to rectify, but you should know the Pack does not blame you. They miss you.”

“I’m just not sure where I belong anymore.” She leaned back, staring out the window as the waitress dropped off a black coffee for Peter and refilled her tea without a word.

“It’s a lot to take in, but we need you.”

Something in his voice made her heart start to race. Her eyes sought his out in the reflection of the window. “Who?”

“Deucalion.”

“I thought we dealt with him? I thought the Alpha Pack was gone.”

“Scott let Deucalion leave unharmed, which was a mistake. I’ve been keeping an eye on him for months.”

“What’s he done?”

“Seemingly nothing.”

“Then why?”

“Why court disaster when it isn’t needed?” Peter leaned forward; his eyes narrowed in that disconcerting way he had of looking at you like you were a puzzle to figure out. “Because word is getting around about Void. Having Deucalion on our side would keep the others in line or at least off our backs until were a bit more settled.”

Lydia turned her full attention to the older man. “Killing him would only make him a martyr.”

“I don’t plan on killing him.”

“Then what?”

“I plan on curing him.”

“You…” Lydia stopped to think through what he was saying and what he wasn’t. Stiles’ Spark allowed him almost infinite potential if he was given access to enough power and with Deaton and Scott not poisoning the Nemeton anymore, the tree’s magic was starting to settle, but it was still a long shot.

“We’ll need to figure out how much energy Stiles will need. He can’t draw from a corrupted source,” she warned, already doing the calculations in her head.

“He’s been working on drawing directly from the Between itself, that won’t be as much of a hinderance as you think.”

Lydia nodded absently, her fingers shredding a napkin as she thought. “Satomi? Noshiko? Will they attempt to stop us?”

“Satomi is taking a hands-off approach. We don’t bother her and she won’t bother us. Noshiko is a different matter, but Stiles and Kira are working on her. At the very least, she’s not an active threat.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“Derek, and to a lesser extent, the pups. They are more than hesitant to allow Deucalion anywhere near the territory.”

“Considering they almost died the last time he was here; I don’t blame them. So, what were you thinking, because I know you wouldn’t have mentioned this without some form of plan in place.”

“Next month, Noah was planning on taking Stiles to see some colleges out east. Derek is already moping about because he’ll need to stay here and watch over the territory. I suggest the two of us accompany him. You for the universities and me for…”

“The machinations?”

Peter blinked, mouth slightly opened and a wounded expression on his face before a smile crossed his features, his eyes crinkling in humor. “I have always appreciated your timing, my dear, but yes. As Stiles’ Second, it only makes sense for me to attend.”

“Why me?”

Peter cocked his head to the side. “I was under the impression that you wished to attend MIT, is that not correct?”

“Well, yes, but how does that concern you?”

“The Pack pays for it’s members to attend university or vocational training, whichever they prefer.”

“I…” Lydia blinked rapidly. “I didn’t know.”

Peter’s face softened in understanding. “As Alpha, technically it would fall to Stiles to handle these types of things, but I can hardly lay all of the financial responsibility on the shoulders of a seventeen-year-old. Besides, as Alpha’s Mate, Derek, and by extension, our family, would merge resources for the good of the Pack. This means that any schooling or business venture the Pack wishes to partake in will be reviewed for financial viability and then paid for by the Pack fund.”

Lydia nodded, even as she was overwhelmed with the thought that she was considered Pack enough to be included in these plans. “You’re building a Pack House too, aren’t you?”

“About a mile from the old house. It should be ready shortly before graduation.”

“And everyone is going to live there?”

“Derek will most likely go with Stiles wherever he attends university while Noah and I manage the territory, unless Stiles decides to stay local. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd have stated they wish to attend BHCC, so they will all have rooms at the house. Kira is in negotiations about New York with her mother and Jackson and Danny have expressed an interest in Boston - Danny for MIT and Jackson for Harvard. Liam is only a sophomore, but will probably be at the house more often than not and we’re expecting Mason to come around asking questions any day now. You will, of course, have a room available should you wish it.”

Lydia sat back heavily in her chair, shock waring with the soft warmth of belonging suffusing her chest. “Is everyone coming back?”

Peter took a sip of coffee. “I expect a great many of them to, but not all. Kira will need to be taught and will probably travel for a few years. I know Derek wants to go see Cora even if he hasn’t said anything. Knowing Stiles, he already has a trip planned for after graduation. Danny’s family is here, so he’ll probably return, even if he doesn’t live here full time. Jackson will go with him. I doubt the others will leave.”

“And me?”

Peter pushed the empty cup to the side as he thought about what Lydia was really asking. “I won’t lie and say being apart is easy, because it isn’t. I imagine most of our budget will be going to Skype and texting for the next few years, and possibly express shipping of dirty laundry.” He gave a small smirk at that, remembering Isaac’s embarrassment at getting caught wearing one of Stiles’ dirty shirts a few weeks back.

“However, being apart will not destroy a Pack bond. Being Pack means being there for each other. It means utilizing our strengths to support one another and the Pack. If you want to attend MIT and then stay in Boston and take over the field of mathematics, if that makes you happy, then the Pack will support you however it can. No one would ever begrudge you for wanting to be happy.”

“Is Stiles really going to leave?”

Peter blew out a breath. “I honestly don’t know. He had originally planned on the pre-FBI program at Georgetown, but now he’s been talking about deferring college.”

“What?! That idiot! You can’t…” Lydia sat up straight, her eyes flashing in annoyance.

Peter held up both hands. “Don’t worry, between Noah, Melissa, Derek, and I, he has agreed to go to university, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he chose Berkeley or Stanford since they’re closer. I know he and Derek have been discussing alternatives to Law Enforcement though. Derek thinks he should do what he loves, but Stiles is thinking like an Alpha and looking at what would give the Pack the most stability.”

“Is he going to focus on his magic?”

“The last I heard, he was considering a double major in Computer Science and Mythology. Something about creating a consultancy business for the supernatural with Danny’s help.”

“That would actually be really smart,” Lydia muttered, settling back in the booth. “Danny’s a computer genius and with all the information Void left him, Stiles could be a great help to people who don’t have a lot of options.”

“That was Derek’s argument as well and since Jackson will be coming to work for me after he graduates, having everyone at the house would be easier.”

“Jackson is going to work for you?!”

“Surely you didn’t think he was going to work for that idiot who calls him his father?”

“Well, no, but do you even have a law degree?”

Peter pursed his lips in a pout. “What did you think I did for Talia? I was the Pack’s lawyer, just like Michael handled the Pack’s finances.” He paused, a contemplative look on his face as he stared out the window. “Now that I think about it, I really should check to see if Derek was planning on finishing his degree. I think Stanford has the better program, but if Stiles chooses Berkeley…”

“What program?” Lydia asked, fascinated at the turn in conversation. She never really thought about the Hales having real jobs, although she knew Talia was a lawyer, she just hadn’t realized Peter had been as well.

“Accounting. Derek wanted to get his MBA before the fire.” His voice turned sad, “he wanted to work with his father after school. I’m not sure if he attended any courses in New York.”

Lydia swallowed harshly. It always struck her that the Hales had been a normal family before Kate got involved. They had hopes and dreams. School and work and, presumably, taxes, since nothing could mess up a secret life more than the IRS; just ask the mafia.

“You kept your license active?”

“Of course. It was one of the first things I did after I came back. A lawyer in the Pack is practically a necessity anymore.”

Lydia blew out a breath. “And what about a mathematician? Where would I fit in?”

Peter gave her a kind smile. “Wherever you want. Not every member has to contribute so obviously. Boyd is thinking about architecture and Erica is thinking about nursing school. Isaac hasn’t made up his mind, but he’s thinking he may want to go into counseling or teaching, something that will let him help other abused kids. Kira hasn’t the slightest idea, but when you live to be a thousand, a year or two of travelling barely registers and quiet frankly, we’ll all just be happy if Liam graduates.”

He reached across to take her hand once more, grateful when she didn’t flinch. “The Pack will be here regardless of your decision; MIT math genius or not. I know for certain though, that Stiles is dying to pick your brain about the possibilities.”

“You don’t think they’d mind if I came over?”

“I think Erica and Kira would love another strong young woman to balance out all the testosterone.”

Lydia smirked at that, feeling a bit more like her old self as she stood, the necklace slipped into her purse. “I’d be a horrible Packmate if I didn’t save them, now, wouldn’t I?” she asked cheekily as she slipped her arm inside Peters’.

“I guess I'd better go to save the boy’s then, you ladies can be quite vicious.”

“Speaking of vicious,” she said as Peter walked her to her car. “What, exactly, are you planning on doing about Deucalion?”

“I was thinking our Alpha stops by for a friendly little chat and perhaps heals his eyes while he’s at it.”

Lydia nodded. “That is one way to put him in our debt, but do you think it’s a good idea, making him more deadly?”

“If we reinforce the fact that Stiles could rip his wolf from his chest if he crossed us, yes, I think this could be just the type of ally we’re looking for.”

“You know, it’s at times like these that I really see the resemblance between you and our Alpha,” she said nonchalantly.

Peter gave her a feral grin. “My dear, I cannot think of a nicer compliment. Thank you.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, a small smile on her lips as he closed her car door. Her Pack was such a bunch of weirdos.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Stiles sat in the wooden kitchen chair and drew meaningless symbols on the tabletop with the tip of his finger. He was at a standstill, with his Pack and his powers and he didn’t know what to do. Hōkūlani sat across from him, her shrewd eyes missing nothing even as she poured more tea into their cups.

“Nani ga ki ni naru no, kitsunebi-chan?” [What is bothering you, little fox-fire?]

“Sore wa kantan sugiru yō ni kanjimasu. Sukotto to arison wa taisho sa reru. Ki wa futatabi seichō shite imasu. Ridia wa futatabi watashitachi no ichiin ni narimashita. Ima, nani o sureba ī no ka wakarimasen.” [It just feels too easy. Scott and Allison are dealt with. The tree is regrowing. Lydia is becoming part of us again. I don't know what to do now.]

Hōkūlani waited a full minute before the spark’s eyes jumped to hers.

“Oh, you sneaky…”

The wizard laughed loudly, the crinkles around her eyes so deep they seemed to disappear.

“When did you learn Japanese?” Stiles asked petulantly.

“I am Hawai’ian. I speak English, Hawai’ian, Japanese, and a smattering of Korean and Spanish.” She shrugged, “When you grow up on the islands, it’s just something that happens naturally.”

Stiles blew out a breath and slumped back in the chair. “Void left me Japanese. I don’t even think about it half the time, it’s just there.”

She nodded sagely as she handed him his tea and slid a tin of cookies across the table. “I would imagine that’s not all the information he shared.”

“Yeah,” Stiles rubbed his temple, the faint edge of another migraine coming on. “I’ve got a thousand years of knowledge shoved in my head. Sometimes it’s useful, but most of the time it’s just a jumble of thoughts and feelings. Images I don’t recognize.”

“Are the memories the reason for your indecisiveness over college?”

Stiles groaned, “God, not you too.”

Hōkūlani laughed. “Danny and Jackson may have mentioned the current topic of debate in the Pack.”

“I swear, they’re all a bunch of gossips.” He tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Maybe? It’s just…I remember the first electric street light going up in Tokyo. The Warring States period and riding off to battle with the Shinsengumi. I remember the Dutch landing and both World Wars.”

He slumped forward, his head laying on the table top. “How do I go back to high school, let alone college, knowing that what I’m reading in my textbooks barely scratches the surface, or worse, is straight up wrong? How do I go back to being a typical seventeen-year-old kid when I’ve got all these experiences in my head?”

Hōkūlani slid her cup to the side and thought about what it must be like. To have all that knowledge and no way to channel it. To have to sit around and listen to people pretend they knew what they were talking about. He was right, there was no way to return to what he was before.

“I would think,” she stated hesitantly. “I would think that you cannot. The information you now possess, no, the lives you have lived, there is no way for them not to change who you are. I cannot tell you what to do with the information, but perhaps by writing it down it can help you to organize it. That’s the main issue, correct? That the information is just there without any warning?”

“Yeah.”

“Then write it out. Put the memories to work for you. Not as a bestiary, but as a history. A personal interpretation of the past. You have a unique opportunity here, to create something historically accurate, but with the edge of the supernatural that the rest of the world will never believe.”

Stiles sat up straight, excitement sparking in his eyes. “You mean like a historical fiction book?”

“Or a series. A thousand years must contain several stories you could write. I have heard of the infamous 'History of Male Circumcision' paper,” she teased. “These would produce considerably more income for your growing Pack and help your mind to create a barrier between Void’s life and your own.”

“That’s… subarashī [awesome]. Holy shit, that’s such a good idea!”

She gave the young Alpha a few minutes to ramble on about different ideas before she interrupted. “I have two other comments, if I may, Alpha.”

Stiles stopped in mid-ramble to give her his undivided attention, the use of his title catching him off-guard. He nodded for her to continue.

“I would suggest that you do not go back to school.”

“What?”

“The high school will be very hard to navigate until you get a handle on Void’s memories. Danny said you have been withdrawn and quick to anger in your classes, I believe switching to online classes for this last semester would be the best choice. It would allow you time to settle into things without the issues surrounding teenage melodrama.”

Stiles nibbled on his bottom lip, to be honest, he’d been thinking the same thing for weeks now, but he’d been trying to hold it together for the others. Having him on campus helped keep their wolves calm.

“And the other thing?”

“I agree with the consultation business, but I do not believe you should focus on Computer Science. Danny is more than capable of that part and a business like what you were discussing does not need two full-time hackers.” She gave him a knowing smile. “I think history or writing would be better. I would suggest business, but in our world, knowledge is more important. Leave the business side to Peter and Jackson, he’s more interested in corporate law regardless.”

Stiles sat back, stunned. “You think I should focus on the writing?”

“A thousand years,” she reminded him. “And your own penchant for creative storytelling. Granted, I would not tell my grandson to do this, because his gifts do not lay that way, but you…” she spread her hands. “You could do much with such a skill.”

“I’ll need to do some research.”

“Of course. These are just my opinions, but at the very least, you need to talk to your Pack about how you are feeling. Your concern and agitation have been noted and left without discussion, will only fracture the fragile bonds you have formed.”

Stiles grimaced. “I prefer to leave that type of thing for future!Stiles to deal with,” he admitted sheepishly.

“And yet you are the Alpha to a strong Pack of thirteen, mostly, young weres. The time for future!Stiles is now, Alpha, not when doubt has caused strife and sorrow.”

The sound of Stiles blowing out his breath in a huff was loud as he groaned. “I know, I just hate putting this on them. It’s my problem to work through, not theirs.”

Hōkūlani leaned forward and took both his hands in her own small ones. Her eyes a bright aqua as she stared into his honey brown ones. “Did you ever consider that they might be feeling the same uncertainty? That maybe they wanted to speak to their friend, instead of their Alpha?”

The kitchen door opened to show most of the Pack crammed into the Mahealani’s living room. Derek stood to the forefront, his arms crossed over his chest and a fondly exasperated look on his face.

“You’re an idiot,” he said succinctly, the others nodding along with his assessment.

“A hell, kiddo,” Noah said as he crossed the floor, an arm around Liam’s shoulders as the youngest of the Pack tried not to cry. “You should have just told us you were feeling overwhelmed.”

“But…but I’m the Alpha,” he said bewilderedly. “I’ve got to make sure everyone’s okay and that the territory is safe and…and…” To his horror, Stiles felt tears well up in his eyes. He sniffled once at the looks on his families’ faces. A mixture of disappointment, sadness, and love.

“I just wanted to be the best Alpha I could be. The one you all deserve,” he sniffled, even as Liam tore himself away from Noah.

“Mom!” the younger teen cried, throwing himself into Stiles arms and practically crawling into his lap. Their tears must have been the last thing holding the Pack back, because before he knew it Stiles was at the bottom of a puppy pile, Isaac and Liam in his lap, Erica and Lydia on either side and the boys in a protective circle around their backs.

Stiles lay there gob smacked. He looked up into Derek’s face, watching as his mate slowly kneeled beside them. A strong hand reached out to cup his jaw. “You don’t have to do everything on your own,” he said softly. Derek took a ragged breath. “The first thing I learned in therapy was that you can’t control what others do. The second, was it’s okay to ask for help. You’ve got an entire Pack to help you, Sti. You just need to ask for it.”

Stiles felt as the others stopped moving. It felt like the room had even stopped breathing at what Derek was saying.

“You’ve been going to therapy?”

Derek ducked his head, his ears burning in embarrassment. He nodded slowly. “Twice a week since we mated. I…I knew I couldn’t do it alone, but I needed an outsider to talk to. Someone who could look at everything without bias.”

Stiles felt tears stinging his eyes as he crawled out of the pile to throw himself at Derek. “Oh my God, Der!” he breathed. “I’m so proud of you. Shit, I love you so much, you have no idea and…and…Fuck!” he couldn’t articulate what he was feeling, an actual first for him. Instead, he poured all his emotions, all his pride and love and support across their bond. Felt the others do the same.

He cupped Derek’s jaw with long fingers, peppered his face in kisses that made the older man laugh and wrap him up tightly. “I am so proud of you.” He turned to the others, pulling whoever was closest (Jackson) in against them. “I’m so proud of all of you,” he said brokenly. “We’ve gone through so much and you're all doing so well dealing with it and moving on and I just wanted to be there for you. To be as strong as you needed me to be.”

“You are, dumbass,” Jackson groused from Derek’s ribs. Stiles may have not watched where he pulled the teen in his haste. “You took on Void, on Deaton and Scott and Allison. You’re re-growing the nemeton and the town is actually calm for once. We’re all planning for college because of you. Because for the first time in two years we know we’re going to survive long enough to attend. Magic fairies didn’t do that, you did, so stop beating yourself up over the little things.”

“For once, I agree with Lizard-breath,” Erica quipped, shooting Stiles a saucy wink at Jackson’s hiss of displeasure. “You’re allowed to not know what to do, Batman. Even Bruce Wayne had Robin and Alfred to talk to. You’ve got all of us. Rodzina, right? We’re family now, so you have to talk to us.”

Stiles choked on a laugh. “That’s not quiet how that works, but I get it, Catwoman.”

“Good."

"You don’t do well in your own head, Stiles,” Lydia chirped in. “You should know better by now than to make any life-altering decisions without us.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the group, feeling the tide turning from unwavering support to Packmate teasing. “Okay, brats,” he grumbled, pushing the others off. “I think that’s enough bonding for the day. How about we head to the diner and terrorize the mundanes instead of teasing your Alpha?”

“We can do both,” Isaac said haughtily as he pulled Erica and Boyd to their feet. "We're good like that."

“I kinda hate them all,” he muttered against Derek’s chest.

“No, you don’t,” the other man said as he pressed a kiss against Stiles’ temple.

“No,” Stiles huffed, waving at Hōkūlani as they headed out. “No, I really don’t.”

-tbc-

Chapter Text

The sky was black when Stiles woke, a scream trapped behind his teeth. Derek was twisted around his back, his breath tickling the small hairs along his spine as he tried to keep his heartbeat in check, no mean feat when one’s mate was a werewolf with enhanced hearing. The older man frowned in his sleep, his hands a bit tighter on Stiles’ hips. Stiles took several deep breaths to calm himself, forcing his body to relax enough for Derek to fall back asleep.

The door to his room cracked open, the light from the hallway nightlight throwing Peter’s shadow into stark relief. Stiles muttered a word, silencing his movements as he slipped out from Derek’s hold. He removed the spell as soon as the door closed behind him and his emotions were back under control.

“Stiles?” Peter asked lowly. Since becoming Stiles’ Second, he was almost as in tune with his Alpha as Derek was.

“Office,” Stiles muttered before silently slipping downstairs. He checked that the basement door was closed before warding his dad’s office, which Peter had taken over for Pack business until the house was finished.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” Peter asked as he settled against the desk.

Stiles ran his hand through his hair, longer now than it’d ever been before and curling around his ears. He needed a trim soon, he thought idlily.

“Stiles?”

Stiles jerked his head up at Peter’s voice. He blew out a breath. “What do you know of werejaguars?”

Peter stood up straight. “Like the kanima, they were thought to be legend. A turning that went wrong. Why?”

“Void’s memories. I saw one. They’re blue, Peter, actually blue and more vicious than a wendigo because they retain their human mind.”

“That’s what woke you?”

Stiles nodded. “There was this man, a samurai who died in battle with a wolf and then the asshole came back blue. He slaughtered dozens before Void was called in to deal with him.” He shuddered. “What he did…even Void was disturbed.”

Peter frowned. “We’ve killed a lot of monsters, Stiles. But I don’t believe another supernatural can come back that way.”

“No, they can’t, but a human can.”

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, his fangs dropping as his eyes flashed. “The Argents.”

Stiles nodded. “That’s what has me concerned. In Void’s memories, only the teeth or claws of a werewolf can make a jaguar, which means Victoria isn’t a threat, since Gerard shot her in the head.”

“But that still leaves Gerard and Kate.”

“Yeah. I know we haven’t seen Gerard in a while and supposedly that black blood shit means he’s probably dead, but I want to make sure. I will not let those assholes come after us again.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“First thing we do is take care of Kate’s body, since we know where that is. Then I need you to find Gerard and make sure he won’t be coming after us again.”

“That I’d be happy to do. What do we do with the bodies to make sure they can’t come back?”

“Rip them to pieces, burn the corpse, and salt the hell out of the ashes. That’ll take care of them.”

“Simple enough. Do you want to tell Derek?”

“Hell no,” Stiles snarled. “I want to deal with that bitch myself. Derek never needs to fear either of them coming after him ever again.”

Peter nodded. “I’ll wake the pup; we’ll need access to the backhoe at the cemetery.”

Isaac was not thrilled with digging up Kate’s rotting body, but they all breathed a sigh of relief when they opened the casket and she was there and another, deeper one when the fire burned down to nothing and they covered the ashes in salt. Seriously, so much salt, Stiles would need to remember to buy stock in it after this.

Peter scented them both before he slipped off to speak to Chris. He knew his mate wasn’t hiding Gerard, but if he could help him limit his search, that would be for the best. He was planning on accompanying Noah, Lydia, and Stiles the following week to New York, D.C., Boston, and New Jersey of all places to scout colleges, even though Stiles had all but settled on Stanford’s Creative Writing Program, but Noah had insisted and Lydia had told him she needed her Alpha with her and even though the teen wasn’t in love with her anymore, they all knew there was no way he’d be able to tell her no either.

He needed Gerard dealt with before he left.

Chris was in the kitchen when he came in. They were mates, but they weren’t at the living together full-time stage. Not quite yet anyways. More often than not, Peter would stay at the Stilinski’s until midnight before slipping out and heading to his apartment. Chris still had his house, but without Victoria and Allison, it was more of a mausoleum than a home. Five nights out of seven Chris stayed with him, his spare bedroom filled with the ex-hunter’s personal belongings.

Chris glanced up as he came in. “Bad night?”

Peter didn't sugar coat it. “Stiles has asked that I hunt down Gerard, make sure it’s really over.”

Chris stumbled backwards against the counter. “He’s dead.”

“Maybe.”

“How?”

“Apparently werejaguar are real.”

“Jesus.” Chris muttered brokenly. “Kate?”

“Burned and salted. She won’t be back.”

Chris nodded woodenly. He couldn’t take this. Peter joined him at the sink, their shoulders pressed tight together. “How is this our life, Peter? How did we get to the point where burning and salting my baby sister’s remains is just another Thursday night?”

“About the time arrows started flying,” Peter said blandly. He was trying to be kinder. Stiles had shown him what empathy could do and he was trying, but sometimes he was still a little shit.

Luckily, Chris just snorted, rolling his head to look at the other man he had bound himself to for eternity. “You spend way too much time with Stilinski,” he groused. “You’re starting to sound like him.”

Peter huffed out a laugh. “I’m sorry,” he said after several minutes of quiet.

“I know.”

“I don’t expect you to…”

“I know that too, but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to help. I’ll reach out to some of Gerard’s old acquaintances. See if anyone’s heard from him.”

“I’m going to have Danny follow the money, see if we can track him that way.”

“You know all the accounts I do,” Chris said. “I just…I’d like to say I’ll be the one to put him down, if he’s still alive but…”

“I’d never ask you to,” Peter said soothingly. He tangled their fingers together. “Stiles would never ask you to.”

“I know, which is why I submitted. He’s young, but he’s a good Alpha and he’s a strong leader. He’s lucky to have you.”

“We’re lucky to have him. Now come take a shower with me. I think we both need it.”

“You smell like smoke,” Derek mumbled as Stiles stripped and slid under the covers.

“Sorry. I showered, twice.”

“Is whatever you snuck off to do with Uncle Peter and Isaac dealt with?”

Stiles sighed, wiggling backwards into Derek’s embrace. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sneak past Derek, but still. “Mostly.”

“Do you need my help?”

“No, Peter’s going to deal with it.”

“Do I need to know?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Is it going to come back and bite us on the ass?”

“Uh, no, no, exactly the opposite.”

“Then I don’t care. Well, I do, but I trust you, so okay.”

Stiles turned until he could wiggle an arm under Derek’s pillow and the other over his bare hip. They normally slept with their boxers on, for Noah’s and the pup’s sakes, but Stiles had come to bed naked and in the spirit of equality, felt his mate should be naked to.

“Stiles,” Derek muttered as long fingers teased at the edge of the elastic.

“Yes, dear?” he said, leaning forward to mouth at the edge of Derek’s collarbone.

“Your dad’s home and the pups…”

“One magic circle coming up! Now get naked, I want you in my mouth like yesterday.” Stiles said breathlessly. He flicked a line of orange fire around the edges of the room, soundproofing it as Derek kicked off his boxers and flopped over onto his back, an arm draped behind his head. Stiles crawled down the bed, his eyes hooded as he gazed up the length of him. The heavily muscled chest and thighs, the trim waist.

“You woke me up,” Derek grumbled teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, just lay back and look pretty and I’ll do all the work.”

“Brat,” Derek said as he ran a hand through Stiles’ hair as the teen licked and kissed his way down his chest.

“Your brat,” Stiles muttered as he bit lightly at Derek’s hip, making the other man hiss.

“Stiles…”

“Yes, Der-bear?” Stiles smirked, kissing, and mouthing everywhere but where Derek wanted him.

Derek growled, fangs denting his lower lip. Stiles laughed brightly as he wrapped a long-fingered hand around the dripping member, tapping it lightly against his mouth before flicking his tongue over the head.

“Stiles,” Derek groaned, fingers clenched in the sheets while the others cradled the back of Stiles’ skull as he swallowed him down. “Fuck, your mouth,” he swore, body tight as he tried to keep his hips from jerking up and choking his mate.

“I love your mouth and your hands, God, just…”

Stiles’ lips stretched into a smile around the thick member in his mouth. He loved this. Turning Derek inarticulate with pleasure. Making him forget all the bad shit that had happened to them. It was his second favorite thing in the world. He hallowed out his cheeks, sucking and lapping at him until he felt Derek’s stomach quiver under his palms and sweat beaded his skin. Clawed fingers tightened in his hair, the slightest tug of warning before Derek came with a shout, his body bowed over Stiles as the teen swallowed. That part wasn’t his favorite, but the next part definitely was.

Derek tugged him up until he could lick into Stiles’ mouth, his tongue hot and heavy as his hands roamed the pale skin pulled taut over long, lean muscles. Derek pulled Stiles fingers to his mouth, lapped at them, getting them sopping wet before he pressed them back down.

“Show me,” he growled against the side of Stiles’ throat, even as his free hand sought out the bottle of lube in the nightstand.

Stiles whimpered as he pressed the tip of a finger inside himself, shuddering when Derek held him up so he could lap and nibble at a flat nipple.

The cool sticky liquid dribbled over his fingers, smoothing the way for a second finger. This one so much thicker than his own as Derek joined him. He gasped at the intrusion, unable to set a proper rhythm when it wasn’t just his fingers inside himself. Derek pressed in a second finger, his own falling away as he wiped them on the sheet before rising up on his knees. He rode Derek’s fingers, gasping and whimpering when a third was added and his mate curled them to stroke along his prostrate.

“Der,” he whined, needing more, his body fluttering with loss when Derek removed his fingers completely.

“I’ve got you,” the wolf said, aligning them, the tip barely grazing the teen.

“Stiles,” he commanded, “Look at me, love.”

Red-black eyes stared down into crimson. Dainty claws and fangs slid out of moon-pale skin.

“So beautiful,” Derek muttered, brushing back a lock of damp hair from Stiles’ forehead. “My beautiful mate, my Alpha.”

Stiles’ whine turned into a mewl of pleasure as Derek sheathed himself, the head pressed tightly against Stiles’ prostrate. He set a brutal pace, knowing Stiles could take it, may even need it after whatever he’d been doing tonight. Their lovemaking was almost violent in its intensity, but they never crossed that line, there was no need, not with them.

“Bite me,” Stiles slurred against Derek’s chest. “I need it…Der…”

Derek didn’t hesitate. The bite wasn’t violent, not like this, and never between them. He bit down over their mate bite and Stiles screamed as his orgasm tore through him.

“Do it.”

He lay against Derek boneless, mouthing at his marks until Derek was writhing and gasping beneath him. Only then did he bite down.

“Fuck!” Derek roared as he came hard inside Stiles. It felt like forever until he collapsed beside him.

“Shower?” Stiles said around a mouthful of pillow.

“Nap.”

“I’m starting to see a pattern, Big Guy,” he giggled sleepily as Derek manhandled him into their preferred sleeping positions.

“Whatever, sleep now.”

“Why yes, oh monosyllabic one.”

“Stiles?”

“Yes, love?”

“Shut up.”

Stiles cackled even under the weight of the pillow and two-hundred pounds of annoyed werewolf.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

“You’re going to talk to Lydia, right?” Derek asked as he handed Stiles another flannel for his bag.

“Yeah, but after we visit MIT.”

“Danny and Jackson are going to meet you there on Tuesday or Wednesday?”

“Tuesday, Jackson has a test Monday he can’t miss, so they’re going to fly out that evening.”

“I hate this.”

“I know,” he said, pausing in his packing to loop his arms around Derek’s waist. “We’ll only be gone for a week; I’ll be home before Boyd’s birthday party.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me plan that.”

“It’s laser tag, Derek, and pizza at the arcade afterwards. Erica and Kira already took care of organizing everything and Isaac is picking up the cake from the bakery beforehand. All you have to do is get them there.”

“Still…what happens if your flight is delayed?”

“Then you guys go have fun and I get my ass kicked at DDR some other time.” He kissed the corner of Derek’s mouth and smoothed his furrowed brow. “We’ll be calling in each evening and Dad and Peter will be with us. A wizard, two wolves, a banshee, whatever the hell I am, and my dad. Nothing is stupid enough to come after us, we’ll be fine.”

“I just don’t have a good feeling about this, that’s all,” Derek grumbled, sitting heavily on their bed.

Stiles frowned. “Okay, spill it. What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”

“What happened the other night?” Derek countered.

Stiles stilled. “Do you really want to know?”

“Is it bad?”

“Yes and no.”

“Tell me.”

“You know how I’ve been trying to sort through Void’s memories?”

Derek nodded.

“One of them was this thing called a werejaguar. It’s like a kanima in that it occurs when a bite or claw goes wrong.”

Derek frowned. “Okay,” he said slowly, not quite getting where Stiles was going with this.

“It only happens to a human.”

Derek’s face drained of color.

“We’re dealing with it,” Stiles said quickly. “We made sure Kate would never come back and Peter and Chris have been looking for Gerard. He’s probably dead, but you know me, I want to make sure.”

Derek swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing. “Okay, okay, we…”

“Hey, hey, Der, it’ll be alright. Everything we’ve found says I’m being overly paranoid, but I just want to make sure. No lose ends, you know? I’d never leave if I thought you or the pups were in any danger, you know that.”

“I do, I…” he took a shaky breath. “I know you wouldn’t, I just thought this was over. I hoped it was done. Why does nothing ever stay dead in this town?!”

Stiles laughed brokenly. “I don’t know, but it’s getting better. The nemeton’s healing and you can feel it, how much lighter the town is. I renewed the wards around the town, both in the Preserve and around all the houses, the school, hospital, and station. Nothing is getting in while I’m gone. If something happens, barricade yourself in one of those places and don’t let anyone out until I get back.”

He tipped Derek’s face up to stare into shadowed grey-green eyes, his own bled black as he pushed power into his words with the force of a vow.

“You need me, you call. I’ll be on the next flight out. Fuck, I’ll figure out how to teleport if you need me to. Do you understand, Sourwolf? I will always come if you call.”

Derek closed his eyes as he swallowed back the panic. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Good. Now, help me figure out how to ask Lydia to be our Emissary without her taking over, because I’m a little terrified of her with that type of power.”

MIT was nice, he guessed. Honestly, Stiles could have cared less. He still wasn’t sold on going to university at all, but going with Derek to Stanford was a good compromise. They’d live there during the week and come back on the weekends. The pups and Peter and Chris would be at the new house full time and his dad and Melissa were even thinking of moving in together, which made Stiles giddy with excitement until he remembered Scott wasn’t there to share in it. They’d been trying to get their parents together for years and now that they were, his brother was lost to the Between.

He felt a tug along the Pack bonds and glanced up to see Jackson frowning at him from the other side of the picnic table. The other teen put a hot chocolate in front of him as he swung a leg over the metal bench seat and sipped at his own half-caf americano.

“You okay?”

“Just thinking.”

“Dangerous territory there, Stilinski.”

Stiles flicked him off without any real anger. His relationship with Jackson was weird, but he appreciated the other’s snark. He had no idea what he’d do if the wolf was suddenly nice to him.

“I was thinking about Melissa and Dad and how psyched Scott would have been, if he hadn’t gone darkside on us.”

Jackson hummed thoughtfully as he gazed around the campus. “Scott was…I won’t say an asshole, because he wasn’t for a really long time, but he never learned how to share. We all had shit to deal with as kids, your mom, his dad, my adoption…it pushed the two of you together and Danny and me together. It happened and maybe we should have grown out of that, maybe we had to end up on opposite sides to grow up at all, I don’t know. What I do know is that McCall never grew up. I was an ass. Hell, I’m still an ass, I know that.”

He grimaced into his coffee. “Believe me, Danny doesn’t let me forget when I am. But when shit went sideways, you grew the fuck up and you took care of us all. Even as a squishy human with more guts than brains you took care of us. McCall didn’t. He was only concerned about Allison and his own position.”

Jackson snarled as he remembered Gerard and Matt. “He didn’t care what I was going through as the kanima. He didn’t care what forcing Derek to bite Gerard would do to us. I stayed with him because I needed an Alpha, but if you hadn’t done what needed to be done, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

He blew out a breath. “My parents wanted to send me to London. Said Beacon Hills was too dangerous.” He gave a broken laugh. “They had no idea I was what was dangerous. If you hadn’t stepped up, I’d be an omega or dead. So don’t ever think that things would be better without you as our Alpha. For fuck’s sake, Stilinski, look around us.” He swept a hand around the campus.

“I’m going to be starting Harvard this Fall. Danny and Lydia are plotting to take over their respective departments at MIT. Peter and Lydia are talking, like normal, not homicidal people, and actually meaning it when they laugh at something. Lydia was beyond honored when you asked her to be our Emissary. She cried; in public! That is what you’ve done.”

“It sucks that the old Scott we knew as kids isn’t here and I’m sorry you have to feel that way, I really am, but you aren’t alone. You’ve got a mate at home and a Pack that loves you. We’re rodzina. Even if you do annoy the fuck out of us every once and a while.”

Stiles burst out laughing at that. Swallowing back tears, he leaned across the table to grasp the back of Jackson’s neck. “Thanks, pup,” he whispered, ignoring the rolled eyes and swipe of Jackson’s hand when the teen shoved him back with a muttered ‘asshole.’

“Okay, enough with the mushy shit. Have you guys decided if you want to do an apartment or the dorms?”

“Apartment,” Jackson said as the others joined them. “Peter made a good point about me being away from others during the full moon. Danny and Lydia can shield me if I lose control, but not if we’re in different parts of the city.”

“I doubt he’ll have much trouble,” Peter said thoughtfully. “But better to be safe than sorry. That and less chance of Lydia destroying some poor roommate’s soul when she gets annoyed.”

Lydia harrumphed as she flicked her hair over her shoulder. “It’s not my fault if they can’t take an honest criticism of their scheduling options.”

“She was a Senior, Lydia,” Danny chided. “And you made her question her entire life’s choices.”

“If she didn’t want an honest answer than she shouldn’t have asked the question.”

“And that is why we will be buying a condo in the area,” Peter said sweetly, his voice bland as the two Stilinski’s tried to hold back their laughter.

“Why a condo and not just rent an apartment?” Noah asked around a mouthful of bear-claw before Stiles swiped it and shoved most of it in his mouth. Noah glowered at his son until Danny slipped him half a cinnamon roll.

“Better investment and privacy,” Jackson answered, earning a proud smile from Peter. “If we own the condo, no one is going to just walk in on us and there will always be a demand for real estate in this area, so we’ll make the money back in the long run.”

“It also gives them a place they know is their territory and if Lydia decides to stay for her Masters or Doctorates, she won’t need to worry about housing.”

Noah nodded.

“Well, other than the idiot tour guide, I’m relatively set,” Lydia said. “Danny?”

“Yeah, I’m all for it and Jackson was basically drooling over the library at Harvard.”

“Then we’re set,” Peter said, clapping his hands together. He glanced at Lydia, who dipped her chin. “That just leaves one last thing on the agenda.”

“I’m not house hunting,” Stiles groaned, flopping inelegantly across the tabletop. “There have to be realtors in Boston or Cambridge, please don’t make me, Peter, please!” he whined.

“My son, the Alpha,” Noah quipped on a sigh.

Peter rolled his eyes at the melodramatics. “No, I’ve already called someone to handle that. We have Alpha business for you to attend to.”

“Oh?” Stiles said, sitting up. He rested his chin in his palm. “Do we need to negotiate for them to attend or something?”

“No, cities like Boston are relatively neutral territories and universities always are, there’s just too many different types of supernaturals to make them anything less.”

“Ok~ay, then,” he drawled. “So, what’s the problem?”

“I tracked down that problem you asked me to.”

Stiles eyes went hard, the edges bleeding black. “Where?”

“Maine.”

“Maine? What the fuck is he doing in Maine?”

“Apparently putting together an army.”

“A…” Stiles rattled off a series of curse words so graphic both adults winced; the combination of Polish and Japanese flowing together with the ease of a native speaker. “A fucking army?!” he finally hissed out.

“Apparently.”

“How? I thought Chris cut him off from all the Argent funds.”

Noah and Jackson had matching faces of dawning horror as they finally realized what the others were talking about.

“He did. He declared him dead and we changed all the accounts together, you know this, Stiles.” He said harshly, not liking the slur against his mate.

Stiles waved away his annoyance. “I’m not saying Chris was helping him, Peter, I’m just trying to figure out where he got the money from. How many friends does the bastard have anyways?”

“More than we thought,” Peter acquiesced.

“Do we have a name?”

“Some woman named Monroe. Chris and Danny are looking into her.”

“You knew?” Jackson asked the wizard.

“Peter asked for my help to track the Argent money for Chris, I didn’t know about Gerard until the other night when we tracked some dividend payouts to this Monroe person.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, son?” Noah asked concerned.

“We didn’t know anything. I asked Peter to find out if Gerard was dead. If he was, then great, if not, I wanted to know so we could prepare for the worst.”

“Stiles really didn’t know, Noah. He wasn’t keeping anything a secret or doing things on his own again,” Peter defended.

“So, now we know the bastard isn’t dead, what do we do about?” Jackson asked.

“We take him out,” Stiles said succinctly.

“Not just yet,” Peter cautioned. “Lydia?”

Lydia pulled out her MacBook and opened up a set of encrypted emails before sliding it over to Stiles.

Stiles’ eyes went wide as he read through the communications. “You want me to heal Deucalion?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he’ll make a good ally and he hates Gerard as much as the Hales do. If you heal him, he’ll back up our play to take the hunters out before they’re ready.” Lydia’s voice was steady, her conviction easy to read in her body language. Stiles fought back a smile. She’s acting like an Emissary, he thought pleased.

“And you really think we can trust him?” He asked, mind turning with the implications of such an alliance.

“The one thing I know for certain is you never really trust anyone who isn’t Pack, so no, I don’t think we can trust him, but I also know we can’t afford to have him against us.”

“Jackson, Danny? What do you guys think?”

“I think Deucalion wants to rip Argent apart with his bare hands,” Jackson said easily. “You might as well use him to do it.”

“I agree. Gerard killed his entire Pack, right? It’s what sent him down the DemonWolf path to begin with. Offer him the chance for revenge and he’ll take it.”

“Daddio?”

“I’d rather he takes on Gerard and the hunters than you kids, and Lydia is right, heal his eyes and you show mercy to the entire supernatural community. Defeat Argent and you show your willingness to defend all wolves, let alone your own Pack.”

Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face. He pushed the laptop back towards Lydia.

“Email him, we meet on neutral territory, I’m not walking us into a trap. If he wants this, he comes to us.”

She nodded even as she pointed to his cell phone laying forgotten on the table top. “You better call Derek, I don’t want to hear him bitch about this later.”

Stiles groaned even as his grabbed the phone. This was not going to be a fun conversation.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Stiles sat on the steps of the Little Red Shop Museum in Hopedale, about forty minutes southwest of Cambridge. The museum was closed for the season and only had two security cameras which Danny easily bypassed, making it the perfect place to meet up with Deucalion.

“I can’t believe you picked this place,” Jackson grumbled under his breath.

“What are you talking about, it’s perfect,” Stiles laughed.

“I’m embarrassed for you, Stiles,” Lydia said, shaking her head at the name.

“Oh, come on you guys! It’s called the Little Red Shop; you can’t expect me not to make the connection. Peter? Dad?”

Both men grimaced, refusing to meet his eyes. “You guys aren’t any fun at all,” he grumbled, sulking.

“I see you are still as incorrigible as ever, Mr. Stilinski,” a cool voice said from the shadows.

“That’s Alpha Stilinski, asshole,” Stiles said pleasantly. “Now stop skulking and let’s chat.”

Deucalion stepped out of the shadows paced by two betas. One male, one female, both in their mid-thirties and hardened in the way people who have seen some shit are.

Deucalion tipped his head towards Peter and Noah. “Peter, Sheriff, you’re a long way from Beacon Hills.”

“College tour, you know how it is,” Noah said, thumbs in his belt just as if he was wearing his service weapon.

“Ah yes, I suppose you all were rather young when we last met.”

“You mean when you tried to kill us all,” Jackson spat, eyes flashing blue. The female wolf took a startled half-step back before stealing herself.

“Enough, Jacks,” Stiles said calmly. “We’re not here to rehash old times.”

“Then why are you here?” the male asked brazenly, eyes flashing golden.

Stiles flashed black-red eyes making the three wolves flinch. “Like Lydia told your Alpha, I’ve got information and a proposition for him.”

“I’m listening.”

“Gerard Argent is alive.”

Stiles could practically feel the temperature drop around Deucalion.

“Keep talking.”

“He’s hooked up with some woman named Monroe and gathering a new Army to take us all out. I figured you might want in on destroying his little dream before he comes after us.”

“An interesting proposition, but sadly, I’m not the wolf I once was.” He spread his arms in entreaty. “Your mate made sure of that.”

“And if I can give you back your eyesight? What then?”

Deucalion went still, his head cocked to the side as he listened to Stiles’ heartbeat.

“Is that on the table?”

“I want him dead, Deuc,” Stiles said harshly. “We both do, don’t tell me you’ve forgiven him, not after all you did to get even with him. We can’t take him out ourselves, not with most of my Pack in Beacon Hills. I can heal your eyes, and I will, if you agree to help us take him out.”

“I won’t sacrifice my Pack for revenge,” Deucalion said slowly.

“I’m not asking you to. I need your connections. We, the entire supernatural community, can’t afford to let this get any bigger. We can’t let this Army of his take one step outside their little town. He won’t stop and it’ll mean all our deaths. We have to end this, here, now.”

“And you need my help.”

“I’d do it myself if I could, just like I know you would.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“You just told me; you won’t sacrifice them. That means you will sacrifice yourself to protect them. I understand that, because I’m the same.” Black fire erupted over his skin; his eyes almost completely black in the shadows of the museum as he stood tall. “I will burn this world to ashes before I let that bastard hurt my Pack ever again.”

Deucalion stared at him silently, his eyes glowing red behind his glasses. He nodded once and held his hand out.

“Then we’ve got a deal, Alpha Stilinski. My help for yours.”

Stiles clasped his hand, the fire racing over Deucalion’s skin to wrap around his eyes and sink into the bone and muscle, inside his nerves and veins. Deucalion screamed as new connections were forged, his vision restored to perfect condition. He blinked down into black-red eyes and smiled cruelly.

“Now, let us see what damage we can do, little mischief,” he purred.

Stiles grimaced. “No, you don’t get to call me that. Red, Stiles, Alpha, asshole, I don’t care, but not mischief.”

Deucalion blinked, his eyes cutting to Noah’s where the sheriff was gritting his teeth, then nodded. “Of course, my apologies, that was something your mother called you, wasn’t it?”

“I hate that you know that,” Stiles said, pulling his hand back.

“It pays to be thorough in one’s research, but as we are now allies, I will respect your wishes. What can you tell us about Gerard?”

Stiles let Peter and Danny do most of the talking. Derek had been understandably upset over the entire situation and it had taken a considerable amount of begging and promises of being careful to keep the Pack at home, but they didn’t have much of a choice. The territory needed to be defended. The pups needed to be in school and safe. From what they’d been able to tell, Gerard had convinced around seventy hunters to join his genocidal Army with Tamora Monroe as his second in command. The woman had survived a feral attack as a teen and sworn to annihilate every supernatural she could find. So far, she'd been doing a bang up job of it.

“Can we use that against her?” Deucalion’s beta, Trisha, asked. “Gerard was bitten, right? The black blood shows that he’s rejecting the bite, but he hasn’t killed himself, that’s Hunter rule number one and he’s broken it.”

“We can try,” Peter said slowly. “The information would have to come from someone the Hunter’s respect.”

“So, not Chris,” Stiles said, eyes flickering to Peter before going back to Lydia’s open laptop. “They’d think he was just bitter about his dad or something. It needs to come from an outside source.”

“Braeden?” Danny asked. “We’ve used her before and I know she works both sides. Could she deliver the message?”

“Possibly,” Lydia said. She gripped Stiles’ hand under the table. There were some unresolved issues with Braeden and Derek, but now wasn’t the time to discuss them.

“You mean the bounty hunter?” Alfonso asked, turning to Deucalion for confirmation.

“Yes, the pretty one with the scars. Hmmm…yes, she would do well at this type of assignment. I know she and Marin were close.”

Stiles snorted at that understatement earning disapproving glares from both Peter and Deucalion. “What? I agree, she’d be the best for this, but that doesn’t mean she’ll come when I call her.”

“Perhaps we should be asking your…”

“Don’t, Deuc,” Stiles snarled. “Don’t even finish that statement. Peter, call her, see if she’s in the area and can meet.”

“Of course, Alpha.”

“What do we do, if she isn’t local?” Jackson asked to break the tension.

“The Patterson Pack might be able to help, they’re in New York and Mia has been dying to get involved.”

“Richard would be a good resource for you,” Deucalion said thoughtfully. “Cassandra in Buffalo will want in on this as well. She lost a son and daughter-in-law to that maniac.”

“Anyone else?”

“I know of several Packs who would want revenge, but those strong enough to assist? Those will take some thinking on.”

“We’re kinda under a time crunch here, Deucalion,” Stiles warned.

“I know, but we also can’t go in half-cocked and expect to come out unscathed. You have to remember; I’ve been here before. The last time it was to bide for peace, now we are plotting a guerilla war. We can’t take them all on at once. Close to a hundred hunters? On their territory? No, we will need to be sneaky if we are to win.”

Stiles leaned across the table, his features sharp and vulpine. “Well, it’s a good thing one of us is a fox then, isn’t it?”

Braeden was in Nebraska finishing up a job.

“I’ll be there in thirteen-hours.” Was all she said after Peter had spoken and hung up. Stiles figured that meant she was on their side. Richard and Mia told them to get their asses to Brooklyn. Alpha Cassandra Fernandez-Delgado committed everyone of her Pack between the ages of twenty-one and sixty-five, leaving only the ones too young or too old to fight to watch over their territory and their youngest members. Three other Packs in the Virginia/D.C. area, a coven out of North Carolina that was on friendly terms with Deucalion’s Pack, and a Pride of werelions from Vermont all pledged as well.

Gerard Argent was a popular man and a hunted one. To Stiles’ surprise, it hadn’t taken as much effort as he’d thought to coble together his own army and that made him nervous.

“I can hear you pacing through the phone,” Derek said later that night. It was almost three am in Massachusetts and Stiles was exhausted, but hearing the Pack fighting about take-out and movies helped to steady his frazzled nerves.

“I hate this. Everything is coming together and I’m terrified I’m going to get them all killed.”

There was the muffled sound of a door closing as Derek moved through the house to their room. “I know you worry, Stiles, but you’ve got the others. Richard and Peter will keep Deucalion in line and Mia can be as mean as a snake when she needs to be. They’ll help.”

“I know, I know, I just…”

“What is it that’s really bothering you?”

“I’ve never done this on my own. I’ve always had the Pack and you always had my back when shit was happening and this is so much bigger than anything we’ve ever dealt with before.”

“Stiles…I’d be on the next plane if I thought you wouldn’t regret it.”

“I know!” he said exasperatedly. “I need you there, but I’m so damn scared I’m going to fuck this up. You have no idea, Derek. These people are flying in and the way they look at me… I was expecting hatred. Fear. Not this…this hope that I’m going to be able to pull this insane war off.”

He took a shuddering breath as he slid down the wall beside the bed. “I’m going to get them all killed,” he whispered.

“No, you aren’t.” Derek said forcefully. “Listen to me, Stiles. You have some of the smartest, most manipulative people on the face of the planet helping you plot death and destruction. You have a thousand years of chaos locked in your brain. You can beat one little old man and his bigots. You are smarter than them and meaner. Will people die? Probably. You can’t fight a war and not lose anyone and I know that’s going to eat at you, but you can minimize the losses. Use Void. Let his knowledge about war and your knowledge about people out to play. Throw the damn box away, it won’t help you with this. Only you'll be able to make this work.”

Stiles huffed out a choked laugh. “Are your really giving me free reign to go crazy out here?”

“If it keeps you and the pups safe? Yes. Go nuts. Show them what real terror is, I don’t care, just come back to me safe.” His voice dropped an octave. “I can’t deal with Liam and the others alone, Stiles. I need you here with me.”

Stiles dashed tears from his cheeks. “I love you, too.”

“I know.”

“Asshole.”

“Be safe, Stiles. Whatever you do, just be safe.”

“I will.”

“I love you, Red.”

“Love you too, Big Bad.”

“Call me tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Stiles stared at the phone long after Derek had hung up, a vicious little thought swirling in his brain. He felt Void stir. He’d been mostly asleep these past months, but now…

Stiles pulled himself to his feet and across the floor to the adjoining room. He knocked once, waiting until the owner opened the door. Staring up into blue eyes, Stiles smiled around a mouthful of fangs.

“Chaos has come again,” he hissed lowly.

Peter’s answering smile was just as vicious.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

The morning of Boyd’s birthday saw Stiles sitting cross-legged on the roof of the Patterson Pack’s brownstone in Brooklyn. He’d already recorded a message and sent it to the soon-to-be eighteen-year-old, just in case.

No, there could be no doubt. Fear was the mind-killer and for a Spark, that was even truer. He could have no doubts. No sense of foreboding or question that his plan wouldn’t work. If he did, he would undermine his own magic. A Spark’s power came from his belief and the magic of the world he could draw on. Being away from the Nemeton meant his power was less than back home, but the world was full of magic, he just had to tap into it and make sure he didn’t take too much from any one site.

That’s not to say his plan wasn’t insane; it was absolutely insane, and that’s exactly why it would work.

Deucalion and the others had been suitably terrified of what would happen if something went wrong, but that’s why he was sitting on top of the roof before the sun rose. He had two huge tasks to perform before all hell would break lose and the fear in the house was starting to affect even his human senses.

Regardless, he would not be dissuaded.

Around his fingers, black fire warped space and time. He let the blackness of Between engulf him. Let it fill him with the knowledge of millions of timelines. He listened for the scuttling of thousands of tiny feet. For the screams of the dead and dying and wrapped a hand around a thread, pulling a twisted shadow from one timeline to his own. He stared into glowing purple eyes that could not see and a mouth that could not speak.

“I have a task for you, Mr. Spider. A fly I need removed from the web and in return, I will feed you chaos and fear and send you someplace you may live free from the threat of the Ghost Riders. Do we have a deal?”

In the nothingness of Between, the Anuk-ite bent a knee, it’s silent vow making Stiles smile.

He left the shapeshifter in the shadows, fed him the information he would require when called upon to perform his task. Sun Tzu wrote that the greatest victory was that which required no battle. Stiles was going to test that theory.

He sent Braeden with the information on Gerard, sent two of the lions with several of Cassandra’s wolves to spy and report back everything they could. Names, ages, backgrounds, and most importantly, their fears. The Anuk-ite would need them to cause the most destruction when he was released.

But Stiles wasn’t stupid. Void wasn’t all powerful and neither was Stiles. Mia and Lydia were sent to work with the Smith Pack down in the Carolinas. The Coven down there had created a new type of Mountain Ash barrier that even humans couldn’t cross. They were the size of camping spikes and could be used the same way, driven into the ground and able to connect via the ley lines to form an impenetrable barrier. It would keep the Anuk-ite contained and his people safe.

The second task was going to be harder.

He had joked about teleportation to Derek, but Void’s memories showed that was a very real possibility if he used the shadows to move through. With enough power, it was also theoretically possible to move a great number of people and that could mean life or death on a battlefield.

Danny settled silently behind him. He watched as Stiles pointed a finger at an empty coke can. Black fire writhed around it. There was a small pop and the can disappeared. Another pop heralded its arrival on the other side of the flat roof.

“Well, damn,” he muttered when Stiles turned to grin at him over his shoulder.

“Hey, Danny.”

“Hey, yourself. So, teleportation. That’s going to be pretty useful.”

“I’m hoping. If I can do it on a big enough scale.”

Danny frowned. “Equivalent exchange still applies, Stiles,” he warned. “Just moving the can is making you sweat. Moving a person will require even more energy.”

“I know. That’s why I wanted you to take a look at the telluric currents near New City.”

“There’s one that runs between the four mountain peaks to the south. Doubletop Mountain, North Brother, Hamlin Peak, and Mt. Katahdin, with the strongest loop over Mt. Katahdin.”

“How far?”

“About four hours of hard hiking for a human.”

“And the weres?”

“Two and a half, maybe three hours.”

“Hmm…okay, thanks.”

“Stiles…are you sure about this plan? Letting something even worse loose, isn’t that dangerous?”

Stiles sighed as he turned to his friend. “I know it seems nuts. But I’m not doing this without thinking it through. The Anuk-ite will destroy them from the inside out, especially with the seed of discontent Braeden is sowing. The Mountain Ash spikes will keep him contained until I send him somewhere else. If Gerard survives, we’ve got three dozen weres ready to rip his throat out.”

“And the teleportation?”

“Contingency. Maybe I’m over thinking it, maybe everyone will play nice and we all go home friends, but I’m not going to leave that up to fate.” He chuckled dryly. “We don’t have a great track record with the Norns, so I’d rather hedge my bets.”

Danny shook his head, knowing when Stiles had made up his mind. He shifted closer, reaching out a hand and letting his eyes flare aqua. “Okay then. Let’s try the can again, but this time with a bit of a power boost. If we can figure out how much you need, we can figure out the best place for you to be during the fight.”

“You can’t be serious?” Derek growled.

“It’s done, Der. I’m not going to argue with you over it.”

“But this…Stiles if this goes wrong, if even one person deviates…”

“I know, which is why I need you to go to the loft.”

“Why, what’s at the loft?”

“Something I need. Something I can’t do this without.”

“Okay. Give me a few minutes and I’ll call you back.”

Stiles blew out a shaky breath. “Thanks, Der.”

It took Derek less than ten minutes to drive to the loft and head upstairs. It would have taken even less time, but he wasn’t sure what Stiles needed and he wasn’t going to try running around with anything that might go boom. He was thumbing open his phone app when the windows shook, a sonic boom making him wince.

“’the hell?!” he heard before there was the sound of running feet and retching from the bathroom.

He tore open the sliding door to see Stiles wavering on his feet in the middle of the loft. He caught the Spark just as his knees gave way.

“Oh, fuck,” the teen whined. “That sucks. I don’t like that at all.”

“Me neither!” Noah shouted from the bathroom. Derek heard the older man flush the toilet and the rinse his mouth out from the tap.

He picked Stiles up and settled them on the couch, his hands skating over Stiles’ looking for injuries.

“Not hurt, just wiped. Magical depletion sucks.”

“What did you do?!” he snarled worriedly.

“Teleportation. Not so bad over short distances, really not fun over long ones.”

“Understatement of the century, kiddo,” Noah grumbled as he stumbled in.

“Noah? Are you okay?”

Noah waved the concern away, sinking into Derek’s favorite chair. “I will be. We figured there would be some vertigo associated with the transfer, but that was worse than the time Melissa and I took the boys to Six Flags for their 13^th birthdays.” He pointed a damning finger at Stiles curled up on Derek’s lap. “Don’t do that again. I’m too old to be hurling my guts across Derek’s loft.”

Stiles nodded weakly. “You've got it. Economy seats all the way from now on.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Derek can afford First class. Better yet, let Deucalion pay, it was his idea to begin with.”

Stiles snorted. “Technically, it was Danny’s and we like Danny, so don’t go blaming him and you agreed to come.”

“You can’t afford to lose the others. I’m a liability there, but here I’m the Sheriff. I can take care of the Pack.”

“Hold up,” Derek said, breaking into the conversation. “Will one of you please tell me what's going on?”

“I’m switching players,” Stiles said with a lopsided smile. “Dad’s right, being human is a liability in this fight, but more than that, I need you with me. I can’t do this alone. I just can’t. I need to know, 100%, that someone has my back and the only person who I could always count on for that was you, Der.”

Derek’s face went soft, his eyes flickering red. “You’ve got me, you know that.”

“I do, but I need you there. I…I’m going to be farther away from the fighting than I want to be. I need to tap into the ley lines to make this work, but that means only Lydia and Danny are going to be with me. The others will be needed closer to the front lines. I trust them, but we’re all going to be focused on the magic and I…”

“Stiles, stop. You don’t need to justify this. You need me, I’m there. No questions asked.”

Stiles took a shuddering breath. “We start tonight. The others are already moving into position. I need to get to Mt. Katahdin in the next three hours.”

“Then we’ve got three hours for you to see the pups and the Nemeton. I’m assuming you’re going to need as much magic as you can pull, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then that’s what we do.”

“Such a Smartywolf,” he muttered against Derek’s lips, the kiss soft and gentle, more a reaffirmation of their connection than anything else.

“Home,” Derek growled, setting the Spark aside. “Food, pups, nap, nemeton. In that order.”

“Yes, dear,” he snarked as Noah laughed at them.

“Next time, you’re going with him, son,” Noah said, levering himself to his feet. “He’s just gotten more out of control without you to keep him in line.”

“I don’t even think the Gods could keep Stiles Stilinski in line, Noah.”

“Hey!” Stiles sputtered. “Rude! I am a dream to be around, I’ll have you know.”

“More like a nightmare,” Noah coughed under his breath.

Derek barked out a laugh at the look of utter indignation on his mate’s face. It was good to have him home, but he knew it wouldn’t last. In three hours, they’d be staring down the real nightmares of their world and it would all come down to Stiles and his belief in himself.

For the first time in a long time, Derek prayed.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

The nightmares came first.

Clawed hands that wrapped around ankles and throats. That choked or pulled them into the shadows. The cackle of laughter, twisted into screams that shook hardened hunters. Men used to violence and depravity. Weapons found their way under pillows, down the backs of pants and into holsters pressed tight against their ribs.

Weary eyes watched each other with suspicion, doors and windows were locked. Tables and chairs pressed up under latches to barricade them inside at night. Talk died down to the barest of sounds, then disappeared completely. Silence and shadows ruled the unincorporated village of New City, Maine.

Patrols were doubled. Weapons checked and double checked. Fires burned throughout the night, flickering golden in eyes filled with hate. Showing the monsters hidden beneath human flesh.

Then came the rats.

Like one of the old plagues, they fled from the forest. Came up through the toilets and out of the sinks. They bit and clawed and drove men mad with their fleas and mites. Men clawed at their skin, strips coming away red and oozing blood under cracked finger nails. Screams and shouts punctuated the silence. Day or night, it didn’t matter. Blood flowed as the weres paced outside the Mountain Ash barrier, held back by their Alphas even as they snarled and snapped at the sounds and smells from the cabins.

The spiders came next. They turned the ground black with their numbers. A crawling, undulating carpet of poison and bites that festered and itched. Green puss oozed from open wounds. Fire was sprayed in a vain attempt to stop the wave, but they just. Kept. Coming. They burrowed beneath the skin until men turned their own knives on their flesh to get them out. Wolves turned from the sight. Lions snarled; lips pulled back as they tried to get the taste of blood out of their mouths.

The first of the dead appeared that night.

Men muttered, cast their eyes to the shadows, crossed themselves in fear and cursed the ones who brought them here to the middle of nowhere. Some smart-ass left The Shinning on a kitchen table and awoke the next morning to a rope wrapped around his neck while the others watched on silently. No one laughed or cried out for them to stop. They watched and they waited while the man’s face turned red, then blue and his fingers stopped clawing at his throat.

They tossed the body in a pit, without ceremony or regard.

It was not the last to be so used.

A fight broke out over sleeping arrangements. Another over a perceived slight. Three more men joined the first, followed by the mutilated remains of the men driven mad by rats and spiders and fleas.

Monroe tried to keep them calm, keep them focused on their real enemies. ‘The monsters,’ she called them, even while the men turned on each other.

One gouged out his own eyes. Another put an icepick through his ears to ‘make the screaming stop’ in the silence of his own cabin. The screams he heard were his own.

Slowly, the hunters lost men.

From the safety of the shadows the weres watched the carnage. They watched as brother turned on brother. As friends turned on friends and they shivered at the fear radiating from the village.

“This is wrong,” Alfonso whispered to Deucalion. “To have that thing unleashed on this world, he is no better than them.”

“They kill each other. We haven’t had to lift a claw. It might not be right,” he corrected his beta, “but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong.”

“And if it turns on us? If he turns on us?”

“You saw the wolf he brought back?”

“The Hale, yes.”

“His mate. An Alpha’s mate. Stiles is many things, but he is not evil and he would never put his mate in danger if he could avoid it.” Deucalion said as he watched passively as a tank of a man was gutted by a smaller hunter. One that had been teased by the others since his arrival. Deucalion could have warned him, the smaller ones were always meaner, they had to be to survive. Stiles was like that. Smaller than the wolves, he was still mostly human and that meant he had to be meaner, more cunning than the rest. Releasing the Anuk-ite was a gamble. One that was paying off, for now. He wondered how long before the others realized what Alfonso did?

That the most dangerous predator was the teenaged Alpha at their backs, not the hardened hunters before them?

Stiles shivered in the cold of Mt. Katahdin. They had a tent set up with a blazing fire half hidden behind rocks, but he was still cold. He was expending a hell of a lot of magic to keep the Mountain Ash line intact and the Anuk-ite inside. He had no idea if the shapeshifter would get out if he let his guard down, so he didn’t. He didn’t sleep. He barely spoke. He focused all his attention on the shadows around New City trusting Derek to keep them safe.

Derek pressed Lydia into her sleeping bag. “You need to rest.”

“When we’re done.”

“No, now. Danny is taking over. He caught a few hours while you were checking in with Mia and the other witches.”

“But Stiles…”

“Stiles isn’t going to rest until this is done. Our job is to make sure he can. That means you sleep and I’ll force my mate to eat something before he passes out.”

“How long can this go on?” Lydia asked as she pulled the bag up over her shoulders. “How long can he keep that thing contained?”

“As long as he needs to. This is Stiles, Lydia. You know he’ll sacrifice himself before he ever lets it loose.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said softly, exhaustion pulling her down into the darkness of sleep.

Derek smoothed a hand over her hair. “Me too.”

From the fire pit, black eyes glittered. Stiles was aware, in an oddly detached way, of what was happening around him. He could feel the biting cold of the wind, the burn of the fire when the wind gusted at just the right angle. He heard the murmur of Derek and Lydia’s voices. Felt their concern over the Pack bonds. He even felt the distrust and abhorrence from the gathered supernaturals in the Valley below. The giddy elation of the Anuk-ite as it fed off the hunters.

But inside he felt nothing.

In his mind, he sat atop the Nemeton’s stump, Void across from him, the go board set up between them. This time, there were no taunting words, no anger or frustration or fear. Stiles moved a space. Void moved a space. Stiles moved again. They were actions played by route, with no emotional attachment to them.

That scared him more than anything and yet, even his own fear didn’t register.

‘You’ve been here too long,’ Void said.

“I’m not done yet.”

‘That doesn’t matter. You are still mortal; you can’t stay in the shadows forever.’

“It has to be done. The hunters need to be dead first.”

‘Most of them are and the others won’t be long now. You need to go back, Stiles. You need to finish this the way they can understand.’

“You mean as a were.”

‘This type of warfare is not for the faint of heart. The mind is a dangerous place and one it’s easy to get lost in.’

“I want him dead. I want them all dead.”

‘Then finish it, but not in here.’

Stiles held his piece in his hand. Willed the claws forward and stared at his fingers. “I’m not sure I can do it their way, not anymore.”

‘You have more claws and fangs at your disposal than just the ones I’ve given you, little spark,’ Void said knowingly. ‘Delegate. Allow others to take their vengeance for you.’

“It’s quiet here,” Stiles muttered as he placed the piece back on the board.

‘There will be time for silence later. For now, you must go back and be with our Pack.’ Void glanced up, staring at Stiles through his own eyes, a smile flitting about his lips. ‘We were never meant for silence, Stiles. Never meant to be still. Go now, little mischief, and bring chaos to those who would harm ours. Show them what a fox can really do.’

Stiles tapped the bored once, the game shifting to show a chess board set up. He bent down and moved a pawn, smiling as he whispered, “Checkmate.”

Tamora Monroe slammed the door shut behind her, the sound of her hunters killing each other getting louder with each passing hour. At this point, she doubted she had a third of what she’d started with and she had no idea how to stop it.

“Damn it, Gerard,” she swore, throwing a cup across the room in frustration. This had to be magic, there was no other logical reason for the sudden fighting.

“What’s happening?” Gerard Argent wheezed as he stepped into the room. Black blood dribbled continuously from his mouth. It smelled vile, his body rotting from the inside out. She should have put a bullet in his head herself, but she’d been naïve and now she was most likely as dead as the rest of them.

“Can’t you hear it? They’re out there killing each other!”

“That’s what we brought them here for, Monroe.”

“Not the weres!!” she shouted. “They’re killing the other hunters!” she rounded on him, this little man with hate and death in his eyes and saw the same monster that had attacked her as a teen. “Our hunters are killing themselves and it’s all your fault!”

“Control yourself,” Gerard seethed. “If something is happening, it has to be wolves. Someone found out and is messing with us.”

“It’s not wolves!” she screamed. “It’s rats and spiders and the men fighting each other, but no wolves. Not within a hundred miles of this cursed town!”

“It has to be wolves,” Gerard snarled stubbornly. “Probably that Hale brat. Should have put a bullet in his head when I had the chance.”

Monroe flung open the door and pointed. “Then tell me how the hell that pup is doing this from fucking California, Gerard?! How is some wet-behind-the-ears wolf making them go mad, because that’s what’s happening.”

From across the room Gerard watched as a hunter leapt onto the back of another, knives in his hands as he stabbed the man over and over again. Fire from a burning cabin silhouetting them and casting eerie shadows across the ground. His mouth worked as he spat a glob of blood onto the floor. Hobbling across to stare out at the carnage and destruction.

Monroe was right, no wolf was causing this, but that didn’t mean it was natural either.

“Bring me the druid,” he snarled, even as he slammed the door shut.

“What are you thinking?” Tamora asked warily.

“That there’s a magic user involved and they’re screwing up my plans.”

“Your plans? For what? Finally becoming the thing we’re supposed to be hunting?” she guessed.

Gerard turned flinty eyes on her. “And what does that mean?”

Tamora pulled herself up to her less than impressive 5’5” and sneered. “Don’t think we haven’t realized what’s wrong with you. We know all about you forcing Hale to give you the bite. To cure your cancer. You shot Victoria but couldn’t do it yourself.”

“And where did you hear such a fanciful lie?” Gerard asked coldly. He stalked towards the young huntress; his movements stiff but sure. His grin decidedly cruel as she stumbled backwards until she hit the wall of the cabin.

“Around town,” she said carefully. “People talk, they said you forced that Hale kid to bite you. That you wanted to become the very monsters we hunt.”

Gerard wrapped a hand around Tamora’s throat. “And what if I did? Hale bites me, I shoot Hale in the head and all my problems are gone. I become an Alpha myself. All cured and ready to destroy those mangy dogs. Two birds with one stone.”

“We don’t become the monsters,” Tamora gasped as his hand tightened. She clawed at it, surprised at how strong he still was.

“Well, they’re only monsters when I say they are,” Gerard returned. Tamora gasped as fire ripped across her side. Her vision started to go spotty as Gerard pulled the knife free and shoved it back in, twisting to cause the most damage. “And honestly? I’d rather be a monster than weak.”

“At least,” Tamora gasped, blood splattering Gerard’s face and throat when she coughed. “I’m human.”

“A dead human. One I have no more need of.”

He dropped her without remorse, wiped the blood on her sleeve and slipped it back into the holster on his belt.

“Now where is that druid we captured?”

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Marin stared out of swollen eyes. She had been captured almost four months ago and after everything, she had almost given up hope that help would ever find her. Her brother was dead. She knew that and while it should have upset her, a part of her understood that his death was necessary to maintain the balance in the world. That he’d been a part of the problem long before she’d fully come into her abilities as Deucalion’s Emissary.

Still, this was more than she’d ever dreamed.

An Anuk-ite, here, in the heart of the Hunter’s Army, on the eve of Gerard’s ‘Great Cleansing’. That was not natural. The world didn’t work that way. Magic, didn’t work that way, at least, not without a lot of help, which meant Gerard was right and there was at least one magic user involved. Not that she was going to tell him that of course. Marin wasn’t stupid. She was dead as soon as she stopped being useful and that time was coming a lot sooner than Gerard was hoping.

The spikenard pills she had been forced to make were losing effectiveness. The Mountain Ash was winning and if Gerard didn’t find an Alpha to bite him soon, the combination would kill him. Marin was actively hoping to see that fateful moment when he realized he’d run out of time.

Still, the Anuk-ite was in town. The same town she was in and that was not something she wanted to experience. She let Gerard rant, let him threaten her with any number of horrible tortures and debasements if she didn’t do something to save them.

She’d heard them all before. Her body was a tapestry of the Hunter’s cruelty. She knew what he’d do because he’d already done it, but if it meant her hands were free from the iron bindings, even trapped inside the iron cage, then she had a chance.

 She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and willed her magic into the ground. The ley lines were weak here, but there was something on the edge of the village that burned with an intensity she’d never felt. Touching them was like touching a live wire. She felt the shock reverberate through her body and pull her magic along an ever-widening spiral reaching miles away from the village.

This wasn’t the work of a single magic user, there was an entire army of supernaturals just beyond the Village lights. She felt witches, wolves, something feline that prowled through the undergrowth silently, and beyond them all, she felt Stiles Stilinski. The young man that she tried to help when he was controlled by Void was now the focal point for the entire enterprise. She sent a tendril of magic towards him. Felt it rebuffed by two others, one icy cold, the other shimmering like light reflected through raindrops. Then a shadow slipped over her so cold it burned. It held her at arm’s length, turned her spirit this way and that for its perusal. It was neither hostile nor welcoming, it just was.

And that’s when it hit her. Void. Stiles was no longer the dippy side-kick with a little spark inside him struggling for control over the uncontrollable, he was a raging forest fire held back by cold calculations and the knowledge of a thousand-year-old chaos spirit. He had, beyond all reasoning, managed to integrate his Spark with Void.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart rate spiking even as his voice slid into her head.

‘Be still,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t let them know about us.’

‘Void,’ she thought fearfully.

‘No, not the way you think. We are not the enemy, Miss Morrell. Not anymore.’

‘You let the Anuk-ite loose.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘To stop them without sacrificing ourselves.’

‘You can’t control it.’

‘I can. You felt the Mountain Ash, it keeps him contained. When he’s done, I’ll send him someplace else. Somewhere he can’t harm us ever again.’

‘That’s not possible.’

‘It is when one controls the Between. Now, do you want to get out of there or what?’

‘Gerard…’ she paused, breathing slowly, making herself appear as if she wasn’t getting anywhere as Gerard paced back and forth in front of her cell. ‘He watches me constantly.’

Stiles thought about that. ‘Do you know how many are left?’

‘Two dozen, maybe less.’

‘Can you tell me where you are?’

‘Gerard took over the church, I’m in a cell in what used to be the rectory.’

‘I can work with that. Tell him it’s a witch sending nightmares. That you can ward the building, but don’t actually do it. Leave it to us.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Give him a taste of his own medicine.’ He paused then whispered, a smile in his voice, ‘Braeden and Deuc say ‘hi’.’ Then he was gone and she felt the others pull back away from the village.

She took a shuddering breath. She didn’t trust Void, but if Braeden and Deucalion were here… she opened her eyes and told Gerard what Stiles had said. In her heart of hearts, she prayed that the fox made it hurt.

For the first time in almost thirty hours, Stiles moved. His groan was loud in the unnatural quiet of the night and while long periods of silence had never bother Derek before, watching his mate so still was unnerving.

“Stiles?”

Stiles cracked his back and neck as he stood shakily. Now that he was focused on his own body, it was making demands.

“I have to pee.”

Danny snorted form his position looking out over the valley. “Nice to see you back with us, Alpha.”

Stiles flicked him off as he stumbled farther away from the camp to deal with his body’s needs. Derek was waiting for him with a bottle of water and a hand towel when he returned. “You need to eat something.”

“Whatever is fast will work. Call Deucalion in, I need to talk to him and the other Alphas.”

“What happened in there?”

“Void and I had a chat and I found our way in.”

Derek frowned even as he sent out a text to the others. Danny had rigged up something to keep the signal hidden from the hunters; he wasn’t sure if it was technological or magical in nature, all he knew was it worked.

In the meantime, Stiles ate a quick meal while the other’s told him what had been happening while he’d been connected to the ley lines.

“My males are unhappy at the brutality of your creature, Alpha Stilinski,” Alpha Imani Ako said as she settled herself across from him. The older black woman was beautiful, her skin a golden toffee color that made her pale gold eyes gleam in the firelight.

Stiles nodded. Derek stood behind him like a bulwark, his knees pressed against Stiles’ shoulder blades in support while Lydia and Danny bracketed him. “That’s why I called you all here. First, thank you for your support. I know this hasn’t been the type of fight you’re used to and that it’s taking a lot to trust me. I appreciate that more than you know. As for the Anuk-ite, you’re right, he did what he was supposed to do, he’s even the playing field. Monroe is dead. Only about two dozen hunters are left, along with Gerard.”

“How can you know this?” Cassandra asked, her arms over her ample chest. She was small, curvy, and mean. Peter adored her.

“Because of the second thing…we have a spy in Gerard’s camp.”

Deucalion leaned forward. “Who?”

“Marin Morrell.”

Braeden stepped up beside Deucalion, the two exchanging concerned glances. “Marin’s been missing for months,” the bounty hunter said. “Are you telling me that asshole has had her the entire time?”

“I’m not sure how long she’s been there, but several months, at least.” He paused, nibbling on his bottom lip. “She’s hurt. I can tell you from experience, it doesn’t matter if you’re human, magic user, or were, Gerard likes to hurt people. He’s a sadist and Miss Morrell isn’t at her strongest. When we go in, someone will need to get her out.”

He glanced at Danny who handed Braeden a small bag. “Gerard has her surrounded in iron. I’m not sure if he’d got her cuffed, but she in a cage of the stuff, which means none of us,” he pointed to the various magic users, “are going to be able to do it. That will melt the lock, but you need to be careful with it.”

Braeden gave him a grim smile as she glanced into the bag. A small jar and a tongue depressor were inside along with a pair of gloves.

“Don’t let it touch your skin,” Lydia warned. “It’s basically an acid, so when we breach, your entire job will be to get her out. Don’t worry about the rest of us.”

“So, we are going to attack them.” Imani said.

“Yeah,” Stiles answered, pulling up the aerial’s they had of the village. “Cassandra, Richard, I need your wolves to make as much chaos as possible. Run straight through and scatter the remaining hunters. Imani, I’ve heard your lions are the best at sneak attacks; at dragging their pray off into the woods. Is that true?”

Alpha Ako bared her fangs, longer and thicker than any human or wolves’. “It is and my males are some of the biggest. They will take out any who turn their backs on the woods.”

“Perfect. Mia, can you and the coven give me some real Wrath of God weather?”

Mia practically vibrated beside Richard. “What are you thinking, cutie? Earthquakes and lightning?”

“Sounds very, very frightening to me. Go for it, just make sure you don’t bar-be-que our people.”

Mia cackled at the joke while the others rolled their eyes. Stiles shared a smirk with the Emissary. When this was all over, he definitely needed to spend some time hanging out with her.

“And me?” Deucalion asked. “What do you have in store for me, Alpha Stilinski?”

Stiles glanced up at Derek, who nodded. Turning towards the Demonwolf, he gave a feral grin, his fangs small and delicate looking.

“I have a special task for you, Deucalion,” the teen said, leaning forward. “I want Gerard’s head on a pike and I think you’re just the wolf to do it.”

Deucalion leaned back, contemplating the young Alpha before he returned the smile. “I knew I liked you, Stiles” he said. “And you? What will your Pack be doing?”

“Peter will be helping Richard and Danny and Jackson will be with Mia. I need Derek and Lydia with me here.”

“Why?” Alfonso asked skeptically.

“Because unless you want to deal with the Anuk-ite and the hunters, I need to get rid of him and that will be safer the farther away from the rest of you.”

“Shouldn’t Danny be here then?” Mia asked him. “He’s a wizard as well.”

“No. The less people around for him to focus on, the better. Danny’s great at defense and Jackson rocks at tracking. They’ll be a good resource for you. I need Lydia’s connection to the veil to send him where I’m planning. Derek can handle any physical confrontation that might pop up and having him here will help keep me tethered to this reality. Once all that is dealt with, we’ll come back you up.”

He looked to Mia and the other witches. “Once we pull the Mountain Ash spike at the western entrance, you’ll be able to get in, but that means the hunters will be able to get out. Now, we can close the loop again, but I don’t like the idea of you not being able to escape if you need to. It’s up to you all how we proceed.”

The Alphas had a quick but silent conversation with their eyes. A final shrug from Richard had him turning to Mia. “If you can station some of the witches around the entry point, can you turn the barrier off and on?”

“Possibly.”

“What about an actual Mountain Ash line as a doorway?” Danny suggested. “We leave the spikes everywhere but at that one point and lay a line down after the attack begins?”

“That’ll keep our people in, but it won’t do anything about the hunters,” Lydia countered.

“What about…” Derek started, his voice trailing off as the rest of the group turned to look at him. He felt a rush of confidence from Stiles. Clearing his throat he said, “what about an illusion spell? One that makes the hunters not see the exit?”

Genevieve, a French-Canadian witch that had come from the Vermont coven perked up. “I can do this,” she said in her heavy accent. “Create a door that is not a door. We can make the exit look like it is on the other side of town.”

“’Eve is the best at illusions,” Mia explained. “She always has the best pranks.”

Derek gave the witch a grateful smile, his ears heating at the burst of pride he felt from his Pack.

“Awesome, so that’s everything unless you guys can think of something I’m forgetting?”

Amani spoke for the others as she climbed to her feet. “I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that you have exceeded my expectations, Alpha Stilinski. When I heard of your release of Void, I was certain we would need to put you down, but this, what you are attempting to do for not just your own Pack, but all of us, should we survive, I would be pleased to call you, my ally.”

The others echoed her sentiments, Richard clasping him and Derek on their shoulders as he passed. “You did good, pup,” the older were said with pride. “I knew you would, but seeing this, what you’ve done since you left us…” he shook his head fondly. “You did good and Talia would be so proud of you and your mate.”

Derek ducked his chin, a pleased smile on his face. “Thanks, Rich.”

“Richard!” Mia hollerd, waving at him from the edge of the forest.

Richard laughed. “Got to go, Mia gets cranky if I don’t let her out to cause mayhem every once in a while.”

Stiles chuckled, leaning heavily against Derek. “I love your mate,” he said. “She’s awesome.”

“She likes you too, which is why I’d hoped you’d never meet, but alas, there’s only so much one can do when hunters are involved.”

That made everyone sober up, the pair watching as Richard and the others melted into the forest.

“You ready for this?” Derek asked when it was just the three of them left.

“Don’t really have a choice, do I?” Stiles grumbled as he and Lydia started drawing out the devil’s trap on the open ground.

“Don’t make things complicated, Stiles,” Lydia admonished. “You draw him in and trap him until you open the Between and find the correct reality. If he keeps his vow, this should be relatively easy.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Derek asked.

“Then Lydia gets to melt his brain out of his ears and I get to act like I’ve found my dad eating real bacon.”

Derek huffed out a chuckle, his voice as dry as the desert. “Well, we’ve all seen how psychotic you get about Noah’s health. The Anuk-ite doesn’t stand a chance.”

Stiles felt when the barrier went down. There was a moment when everything seemed to stop, and then the screaming and shooting started. He glanced at Lydia, who nodded, and Derek, who’s face was grim and determined. He held his arms up over his head, his hands covered in black flames and turned his focus inward.

‘Come to me, Mr. Spider,’ he called along the tendril connecting him to the Anuk-ite.

Above his head, the sky twisted and tore as his claws cleaved through to the Between. He reached out for Lydia along the Pack bonds, felt her move close enough to touch, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. He pulled a tendril of her banshee magic into himself and sent it out into the blackness of Between.

There, the edges of another time. Of another place where the World Trees burned and humanity was about to take its last breath. He pulled the reality forward, let the screams of the dead and dying fill his ears.

‘Come to me,’ the commanded once more, wrapping a line around the Anuk-ite and pulling him from the battle being waged in the Valley below. ‘I have your promised land and you swore an oath. Come and feast.’

From the shadows he came. Tall, gaunt. His face layers of dried scar tissue layered thinly over a sharply defined skull. No mouth. Glowing purple eyes that held madness inside them. He towered over Stiles, cast his eyes towards Lydia, earning him a warning snarl from Derek.

The shapeshifter seemed to smile at the sight of the wolf, automatically turning towards him.

“No,” Stiles said forcefully, his eyes flashing burnt sienna in the night. “They are not for you.” He pointed to the rent in the sky. “There. An entire world for you to feast on. To bring chaos to.”

“I have kept my side of the bargain,” he warned when the creature made no move to leave. “Do not make me regret allowing you free at all.”

Those poisonous eyes turned to stare at Stiles for several long, drawn out minutes before it finally took a step back. It bowed its head once before flowing into the rent in space-time. Stiles closed his hands, sealing the timeline and the passageway Between.

Beside him Lydia took a shaky breath. “Oh my God,” she whispered, holding up her hand to watch as it trembled violently. “It was like staring into the Abyss.”

“I am so glad that thing never showed up here,” Derek said on an exhale, drawing the two close.

“That’s the thing though, he did. Sort of. The timeline I initially drew him from? That was one of ours. One where we did face him.”

“Jesus,” Derek croaked, horror filling him at the very thought. “How did we survive?”

“Dumb luck and a shit ton of Mountain Ash.”

“Great,” Derek said sarcastically. “Why does that seem to be our modus operandi?”

“Because we’re a bunch of dumb high schoolers trying not to die all the time,” Stiles snarked back.

“That argument would be more convincing if we weren’t literally the two smartest people in the high school,” Lydia said. “Although the not dying part seems to be accurate.”

Derek snorted as he helped the pair scratch out the devil’s trap. Stiles held out his hand to Lydia. “I’m going to send you to Mia and Danny. They should be far enough away from the battle that you won’t have an issue, but feel free to scream any hunters into oblivion if they come your way.”

“Not a problem. I’m ready for this to be over.”

“Next stop home, I promise.”

Stiles pulled on the ley lines, wrapping Lydia in the shadows, and pushing her to the far side of the Valley. The expansion of energy so soon after opening Between left him shaky. He stood bent over, hands on his knees as his vision spotted while he tried to suck in enough air to breathe.

“Stiles?” Derek asked worriedly.

“I’m okay, just exhausted. I swear when we get home, I’m going to sleep for a week straight.”

Derek grumbled his displeasure as the teen held out a hand, his fingers wiggling when Derek didn’t take them fast enough for his liking.

“Just don’t over do it. You’ve done a lot of magic in a very short period of time. Let the others take care of things from here.”

“I am, but I can do more good down there, helping the others.”

“Okay, but just try and stay out of the thick of it, please?”

“This is not staying out of things, Stiles!” Derek shouted at his mate. His claws tore through a hunter, gutting him as he spun and ducking the shotgun blast that was aimed at his head. An orange ball of fire threw the shooter ten feet into the side of a building, even as Derek saw Stiles rip his claws down another hunter’s inner thigh, opening the femoral artery and killing the hunter in moments.

“It’s not my fault everyone seems to be taking their sweet time killing these assholes!” Stiles shouted back; his feet knocked out from under him by Alfonso as he tackled another hunter.

“Watch it, fur-face, squishy human here!”

Alfonso snarled around a chunk of arm muscle. Making Stiles gag. “Ew…” he whined. “Dude, you don’t play with your food like that.”

“Derek!” Peter yelled from where he had a hunter pinned to the ground. “Find Deucalion!”

“Where is he?”

“Last I saw, they were heading for the church.”

“That’s where Braeden and Morrel were,” Stiles said worriedly as he ran over.

“Get back to Danny and Jackson,” Derek commanded. “I’ll go after Deucalion.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, Big Guy,” Stiles snorted, running towards the church. He caught a huge lion tearing the skin off a hunter with his rough tongue out the corner of his eye. “God, that’s gross,” he gagged.

“You guys are gross. This,” he waved at the blood and gore splattered across his clothes. “This is gross. You are all such messy eaters and I’m going to turn the hose on every one of us before I teleport any of us.”

“Has anyone ever told you, you fixate on the weirdest things?” Derek asked as the skidded to a stop around the corner from the church.

“I might have forgotten to take my Adderall once or twice since this all started.”

“Meaning you haven’t taken it at all, have you?”

Stiles shrugged. “There is that possibility.”

“Great, just great.”

“On the plus side, we’re down to one geriatric psychopath before Halloween, so there’s that.”

Derek gave him an unimpressed look. “You’re really not helping the situation, Stiles.”

“Oh fine, killjoy, let’s just bust down the door and fry his ass so I can go shower.”

“Or we could go down from the roof and hopefully get them in a pincer move,” Derek offered, pointing at the windows on the second story.

“Or we could do that. Count of three?”

Derek shook his head and jumped. He wanted this over, and quiet frankly, he wanted a shower. Stiles might be running off exhaustion and adrenalin, but he was right about the blood being gross.

Stiles pouted for all of three seconds before he launched himself after Derek. He stumbled on the landing, Derek catching his arm with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re as bad as the Zombiewolf with your creeper tendencies. I’d need years to catch up to the two of you.”

Derek snorted as he led them inside. They made it to the stairs before Deucalion’s voice could be heard.

“About time,” Deucalion said bored.

Stiles closed his eyes on a sigh, groaning in annoyance as he descended. “Really, after everything now I’ve got to deal with your betraying ass?”

Deucalion inclined his head. Gerard was kneeling beside him, Deucalion’s clawed hand wrapped around his throat.

“The enemy of my enemy…”

“Is still a murdering psychopath and I thought we were beyond this, Deuc? I heal your eyes, let you tear apart the man who murdered your Pack and you, what? Let him live?”

“Oh no, no, Gerard dies. I waited until you came so Derek would see it with his own eyes and know that it was done.”

“Wait a…!” Gerard snarled words were overridden by a gurgling sputter as Deucalion tore his throat open. His esophagus making a wet, squelch sound as it bounced across the rough floor boards.

“Ok~ay~,” Stiles said slowly, lip curled up in disgust. “So, was that just one last mind fuck for Argent or are you really planning on betraying us?”

“He’s not doing anything of the sort,” Braeden said. Marin’s arm was draped over her shoulder, her long hair lay in a stringy, unwashed curtain around a face that was more blood and bruise than flesh.

“Shit!” Stiles gasped out, running across to her. Her cradled her jaw with infinite tenderness, orange-black fire flaring as he pushed his magic to heal her. Derek stepped between Deucalion and them, keeping the other Alpha back.

“I’m not planning on betraying anyone,” he huffed out annoyed.

“Forgive us for not believing you after that little display,” Derek groused, claws and fangs still out.

“Deuc’s an ass,” Braeden said. “But he won’t go back on his word.” She glanced up at him, her brown eyes dark with promise. “He knows what I’d do to him if he did, don’t you?”

Deucalion spread his hands out to ward off the mercenary. “I always forget how feisty you are, my dear.”

“And then I threaten to turn you into a eunuch and it all comes crashing back, doesn’t it?”

“Like a lorry,” he muttered. “How is she?”

“I’ll live,” Marin groaned. Stiles moved from her face to her ribs, healing what he could so that they could leave.

“Stiles,” Derek warned when he saw sweat beading his mate’s upper lip and brow. “You heard her, she’ll live. We need to get out of here. Mia and the others can heal her once we’re safe.”

Braeden concurred. “He’s right. Let’s get back to the city first.”

Stiles frowned as Marin reached up to forcefully remove his hands. “I’m alright, Stiles.”

“You’re not.”

“But I will be. You saved me. Saved us all. Now we have time to heal. Remember what I told you once? When you’re going through hell…”

“Keep going. Winston Churchill.”

“Exactly. I’ve gone through hell, now Braeden and Deucalion will help me keep going. You’ve done your part.”

Finally, Stiles stepped back from her, allowing Deucalion to come forward and pick her up as though she weighed nothing.

“You are quite a bit of trouble for an Emissary. Did you know that, Marin?”

Marin gave him an enigmatic smile. “I might have heard that a time or two.”

“Well, expect to hear it often over the next few weeks. I doubt Braeden will let you out of bed until then.”

Marin gave Braeden a searching look. “I could be amenable to that.”

Stiles tried not to gag. “Okay, I can’t stand here listening to your weird foreplay. Der?”

Derek held the door to the church open, his head cocked as he listened to the others report in. “We’re good. The hunters are dead.”

“Injuries?”

“Mia twisted her ankle when Jackson pushed her out of the way of a cross bolt. She’s cussing up a Bronx storm while Danny and Lydia are trying not to laugh at him while he carries her back to the camp.”

Stiles snickered. “Oh yeah, she’s definitely my favorite non-Pack member. Sorry, Deuc, seems like you’ve been dethroned.”

“What ever will I do?” he returned dryly.

Derek shared a look with Braeden and Marin.

“Have they been this way the entire time?” the druid asked over Deucalion’s shoulder.

“Yes.” Derek and Braeden answered dejectedly.

She looked at Derek, her eyes alight with mirth. “I offer you my sincerest condolences, Alpha’s Mate,” she said solemnly. “You and your Pack.”

“Thank you,” Derek deadpanned. “He’s our cross to bear.”

“Rude!” Stiles shouted.

“But accurate,” Peter said as he joined them, grinning.

“You know I’m the DD, right? And that I could just leave you all stuck here in Maine. I don’t have to take you back to the city.”

Peter looked around the smiling faces of their allies, both old and new and couldn’t help the flare of pride at how they worked together.

“Now, Alpha,” he wheedled. “Where would be the fun in that? Especially since you declared you wouldn’t transport anyone covered in bits of people.”

Stiles eyes sparkled as Mia giggled from Richard’s back. Jackson had gratefully given up his charge as soon as her Alpha was present and seeing the three of them grinning at each other, he took a hasty step back.

He wasn’t fast enough.

The rain fell in a solid sheet that plastered hair and clothes to the assembled. The only ones who didn’t get wet were most of the witches, Imani, Lydia, Deucalion, Marin, and Braeden, and only because he was a little afraid of what they’d do should he have tried. They were also the least gory, so he could excuse it.

The rest, however, were fair game.

Derek stood in the rain; his face turned up to the clear sky to watch as Stiles twisted the shadows around them. The stars inverted, became black dots against a white sky for a breath of time before they were once more standing in the blackness of nighttime, the twinkling white of the stars high above them. He reached out blindly, tugging Stiles against his chest so he could hold him close and kiss him.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered against his mouth. “I’m constantly amazed at what you’ve managed to do.”

“Couldn’t have done any of it without you, Big Guy. Without any of you.”

Derek shook his head. Stiles would never get it. The fact that he took on so much for them and never once said ‘look at me, I did this,’ proved his point. His mate was incredible and he was damn proud of him.

“Home?” Derek asked as the others said their goodbyes and drifted off.

Stiles smiled against Derek’s jaw. The rest of their Pack crowding close to touch the Alpha Pair.

“Home.”

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Six years later...

“It’s not going to happen, Erica!” Stiles hollered as he shoved the front door open with his hip.

“But, Mom!” Erica whined petulantly.

“No, now come help me shove these boxes in Ros… holy shit!”

Erica and half the Pack were out the front door of the Hale house by the time the box full of books hit the ground.

“Stiles what…oh my God! Scott?!” Erica practically yelled.

“I…um, hi?” Scott sputtered, rocking backwards on his heels, and rubbing at the back of his head sheepishly. Melissa stood behind him with a hopeful smile on her face.

“I…wha…Scott?” Stiles sputtered. He reached out and pinched Erica, who yelped and slugged him in the shoulder.

“You don’t pinch someone else, Batman!” she snarled.

“Well, it doesn’t fucking work on me anymore!” he snapped back.

“Um, should I come back later?” Scott asked, confused.

“Yes.” “No!” “What the hell?” “I’m calling Derek.”

“Everyone, shut up!” Stiles roared, making everyone drop their chins and bare their necks, even Melissa, who was human.

“Okay,” he said, blowing out a confused breath. “This is what’s going to happen. Isaac is going to call Derek, because he already is. Boyd, call Peter and Dad and get them home, asap. Erica, call Lyds and tell her we’re not going to be able to come down to CalTech this weekend after all and I’ll mail her books tomorrow instead.”

He turned back to Scott and Melissa, waving her up to the house. “Mel, you sure do know how to give a guy a heart attack. You couldn’t have given me a call as a heads up?”

Melissa walked past Scott and gave Stiles a tight hug. “Sorry, mijo,” she whispered, tears in her voice as she held him tightly.

“Did you call Pops?”

She shook her head, “I opened the front door and he was just there. I didn’t…I wanted to be sure, before I told Noah.”

Stiles heard what she wasn’t saying. She wanted to make sure he was going to stay. That he was going to be allowed to stay by Stiles and Derek. By her Alphas.

A lot had changed in the six years since Scott had been sent into the between after all.

Stiles glanced over her shoulder at Scott. He looked the same, but there was a weariness to his eyes and a tenseness to his shoulders that meant something had changed. Hopefully something for the better.

“He hasn’t aged,” he heard Isaac mutter into the phone, no doubt informing Derek of everything that was happening. “No clue, but it’s weird, being older than him now.”

Stiles held out a hand expectantly. He heard Isaac grouse, “hold on, dad, mom wants to talk to you,” and made a mental note to give the blonde beta the stink-eye later.

The mom and dad thing had really taken off after the Hunter Army issue and 99% of the time, he didn’t care about it, but would it really kill them to act like adults just once?

“You need to come home,” he said in leu of a greeting.

There was a telling pause from the other side of the line. “Is it really him?”

“Smells like it. Dad and Peter should be on their way, but I need you here with me.”

“I’ll let Mia know I won’t be staying for dinner. Make sure the portal is clear, I don’t want to step on Legos again, those things hurt.”

Stiles snorted. “I’ll have Jackson do a sweep of the workroom.”

“Eli?”

Stiles glanced at Boyd who held up a thumb. “Dad and Peter are aware of the situation.”

“Okay, Red. Just take a breath and I’ll be home in a few minutes. If he smells right and the wards don’t react, then it’s probably him.”

“We’re outside.” Stiles said, glancing at the door and the hidden wards he’d burned into the frame.

Derek sucked in a breath, his voice eerily calm even as Stiles heard him move faster. “Get inside, Red. Now.”

Stiles swallowed loudly. He turned towards the house as nonchalantly as he could, waving the others back inside. “Come on, pups,” he said with forced cheer, setting them all on alert. “Let’s get inside to wait for everyone else.”

“Stiles?” Scott asked, confusion and nerves tainting his scent.

Stiles handed Melissa off to Isaac, who led her past the wards into the living room. He waved Scott through, making sure to keep him between him and the Pack.

“We’ll talk when everyone’s home,” Stiles said tightly, only breathing a sigh of relief when the wards didn’t flash a warning and he felt the rumble of the teleportation spell under his feet.

He wasn’t surprised to see Erica setting up his laptop so Lydia could Skype in, or hear Derek’s bit off exclamation when he tripped over a stack of toys. He glanced at Jackson, who shrugged and held his hand out for Danny to settle on his lap. “I checked for Legos,” he said with a smirk. “He never said anything about the rest of the pup’s stuff.”

Stiles rolled his eyes even as he fought to repress a smile as Derek stumbled into the room with a glare on his face. He tossed a stuffed monkey at the former kanima, his lips pulled back in a silent snarl. He was dressed in his normal long sleeved Henley, this one a deep emerald which made his eyes pop, and faded black denim jeans. His face was a bit thinner than that night all those years ago, the first few grey hairs starting to creep into the lush black of his beard, but Stiles still thought he was the most perfect man he’d ever seen.

Derek crossed the floor and gathered him up in his arms. Scenting him even as his pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Mia and the girls say hi,” he told him, handing off a large Tupperware to Boyd, because he knew the other wouldn’t eat it before his mate had the chance to even see what the witch had sent.

“They give you a hard time for missing last month?”

“Not once I told them Eli started teething. Mia suggested frozen waffles as a way to save the coffee tables’ legs from being gnawed on any more.”

Stiles snorted, rubbing their cheeks together one last time. “So, Scott showed up.”

Derek glanced over at Scott, who looked incredibly uncomfortable sandwiched in between Melissa and Jackson and bit out a sharp laugh. He still thought it was hilarious how much the former kanima and the nurse gossiped. When he’d been away for undergrad, the two had regularly scheduled phone calls to talk about the latest happenings in the Pack. Now that he was finishing up his law degree at Stanford, they still gossiped, but this time over coffee and tea at a local café on the weekends. Getting her and Noah to retire last year had been the best decision for everyone involved. And for as much as Melissa hoped that Scott was really back, Derek knew Jackson would end him before he could harm anyone in the Pack, especially his mother.

“Are we waiting for Peter and Noah?” he asked.

“Yeah, they took Eli to the park, so they shouldn’t be long.”

“Liam and the others?”

“We’re here, Dad,” Liam’s voice came through the laptops’ tinny speakers. He glanced over and saw Liam, Corey, and Mason shoved onto Lydia’s sofa, the banshee sitting catty-corner to them in her reading chair.

“I’ve got Marin and Deuc on the other line,” Lydia said, holding up her cell phone.

“And Richard, Cassandra, and Amani are expecting an update when we’re done,” Derek muttered against Stiles’ temple.

“Then let us begin,” Peter said, walking through the door. He was holding a small baby in his arms, a shock of dark black hair plastered to a pale forehead covered in moles. Amber eyes glittered when the little boy saw Stiles and Derek, his gurgling laugh and waving arms making everyone smile.

Stiles swept the baby up in his arms, cooing at him in quick-fire Polish as he smothered him in kisses. Derek chuckled at his mate’s enthusiasm, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the baby’s forehead and run his hand over the feather soft hair to scent him.

“Give me my nephew, and go be the Alphas,” Cora said as she breezed through the room from the kitchen and up the stairs, pausing only long enough to let both Stiles and Derek scent her before she retreated up to the nursery. It was warded all to hell, and beside the panic room in the basement, was the most secure room in the house. It would have been better if Cora could have stayed for the meeting, but her interactions with Scott the first time had been minimal, and he knew she’d fight fang and claw to keep Eli safe. He was biologically half hers after all.

It had been a learning curve, reintegrating his sister into the Pack, but after the Hunter Army fiasco, Stiles had sat Derek down and told him he needed to try and mend that bridge. That there could be no more division between them and what was left of their families. Noah had taken his position as Pack Elder and run with it, as had Melissa and even Chris, especially after he and Peter finally worked through all their issues and mistrust.

Speaking of the former hunter…

“Chris still in Tucson with Kira?” he asked Peter.

“Until tomorrow. I’ll update him after we’re done.”

With everything taken care of, the two finally turned their attention to Scott, who squirmed slightly.

“Scott,” Stiles started, then hesitated, unsure how to proceed. How does one react to the seventeen-year-old version of their former best friend turned feral nemesis that he’d tossed into the Hell that was Between?

He blew out a breath, slumping down onto the sofa beside Isaac and his dad. “I honestly have no idea what to say, man. Like, what am I supposed to ask you to make sure you won’t try and kill us all again?”

Scott dropped his chin, his scent turning rancid and bitter sharp. “I…I deserved it,” he said haltingly.

“I never wanted to be a wolf,” he started, making the entire room roll their eyes. “I told everyone that often enough, and I know I got a big head and acted like it was the worst thing in the world to happen to me, but I was also, like the biggest jerk about…well, pretty much everything.”

He looked up at Stiles, his voice and scent earnest. “I blamed you for something you had absolutely no control over, and refused your help when you tried to keep me from killing anyone. I never thanked you for that, or all the help you and Derek tried to give me.”

He took a shaky breath, needing to get this off his chest. “I was afraid and mad and I took it out on the two of you.” He looked around the room and grimaced. “On all of you, but especially you, Stiles. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most and I thought, like, as long as you were human, that we could still be us, you know? ScottandStiles? I didn’t understand that while you were still there, I wasn’t.”

He paused to swallow drily. Boyd stood and went to the kitchen, returning to hand him a glass of tap water. Scott looked up at him with a small smile. “Thanks.”

“When I became an Alpha, it was like everything was telling me that I had been right all along. That I wasn’t supposed to follow Derek and Deaton just reinforced that every time we spoke. I never realized just how bad I was getting until that night. Until I forced you out of the Pack and everything went to hell.”

He shook his head when the other’s started to chime in. “I’m not trying to excuse what I did,” he said brusquely. “I understand just how much I screwed up and how much I owe to both of you for keeping us all alive. I just…at the time I couldn’t see it. No, I didn’t want to see it, because that meant I was just as bad as Derek or Peter, and I was a True Alpha, I couldn’t be as bad as them.” He shook his head ruefully, staring down into the glass. “I couldn’t be my dad.”

Stiles clenched his jaw. He wanted to comfort Scott, to tell him he could never be as bad as Rafe back then, but in all honesty, he had been worse, so he did what he always did in these highly emotional times, he looked to Peter and Derek for guidance. Peter, as Stiles’ Second, leaned forward.

“You have to understand, Scott, that things have changed since you’ve been gone. Hopefully, for the better, or the Between would never have let you go, but the Pack is not what you remember. Stiles, is not who you remember. He’s an integrated Spark!Nogitsune. The first, and hopefully last, of his kind. He is our Alpha. He is Derek’s mate and husband.” Scott glanced in shock at the thin titanium bands on the pair’s fingers, before giving them a tentative smile.

Peter clicked his fingers to get the teen’s attention.

“He is a father. He runs the largest Pack in California, and is the head of the Supernatural Council. He is not just your sidekick. He's not just, anything. Not anymore and if you are going to be back, if he allows you to be anywhere near his family and our Pack, then you will abide by his rules. You are not Pack. Melissa is, and you will be welcome as her son, as long as you abide by the Pack’s rules, but you cannot just pick up where you left off like nothing has happened.”

Melissa gave a choking sob, but didn’t dispute Peter’s words. Everything he said was not only correct, but much fairer than Scott deserved.

Stiles sighed, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder to pull him back. “Peter’s right. I can’t over look what you did, but I also can’t overlook the fact that you were given back. That means the Between has decided you were redeemable. I won’t ask you what you experienced over there,” he said gently when Scott blanched at the reminder of what he’d seen. “I’ve probably imagined worse over the years, but you are not my priority any more, Scott. I’m glad you are alive and not, you know, bat-shit crazy anymore. I’m glad Melissa will get the chance to have her son back, but I’m not at the point where I am willing to trust my family around you.”

He rubbed a hand across his face and blew out a breath. “We’ll have to figure out what to do though, now that you’re back.”

“Do?” Scott finally asked.

“Mel and dad got married a few years ago,” he said, smiling. “They sold your old house and considering that you still look like you’re in high school, I’m trying to figure out how that’s going to work.”

He glanced at Danny sitting beside Jackson. “Think we could get him set up to finish his GED?”

Danny nodded. “He was never declared missing or dead. We just told everyone he went to live with Rafe.” The hacker stared at Scott for a long minute, then turned to Lydia. “If we cut his hair and got him into some better clothes, think we could pass him off for twenty-two?”

“Hmm…maybe if he shaves his head, and doesn’t give anyone that dopy smile. It’d be a bit of a stretch, but Melissa has great genes and looks younger, so possibly.” She shrugged, an elegant fall of her shoulder that showed just how much she’d matured. “It’s not like anyone in town pays attention to all the weird stuff that happens.”

That made the gathered chuckle, and Scott started to relax a bit, until Derek spoke.

“I don’t want him at the house,” he said, looking at Melissa. “Not until we know he’s safe.”

“Derek…”

“No, Mel,” he said sharply. “I’m not taking the chance with you or dad. He can have one of the empty apartments in the Loft.” He glanced at Boyd. “There’s still an empty one-bedroom on the second floor, right?”

Boyd nodded. “The Jensen’s took that two-bedroom on the fourth floor instead, after they found out Amanda was pregnant, so yeah, 2F is still open.”

“He can stay there then. The Pack will help until he gets his GED and a job, but then it’ll be the same arrangement as any other renter, and no, Melissa, you and Noah will not be paying for him,” he said sternly, glancing over to Noah who nodded sharply. Scott would have to work damn hard to get back into the man’s good graces after everything that happened. “If he doesn’t like that, he can go to Rafe. I won’t have a threat to this family hanging over us. Never again.”

Melissa closed her eyes at her Alpha’s decrees. They were more than fair, she just needed to accept that even though her son was back, he had a long way to go before he was ever accepted by the Pack. To be honest, she breathed a sigh of relief at their pronouncement. She wasn’t sure if she would feel comfortable sleeping in the same house as the teen who tried to kill her family, her biological son or not and that gutted her.

“I understand, Alphas,” she said instead.

Stiles watched Scott frown as they talked. It wasn’t belligerent, which was a nice change, but it was confused.

“After you left,” he said quietly. “We found out Gerard was still alive. That he’d kidnapped and tortured Ms. Morrell and was holding her prisoner while he amassed an army of hunters.” Stiles took a shuddery breath, remembering the Anuk-ite and the devastation Stiles had unleashed on the hunters. It was worth it, but it still weighed heavily on his psyche.

“He was bound and determined to kill as many supes as possible, and if that meant the rest of the world found out about us, then so be it. It wasn’t pretty. Honestly, it was pretty fucking horrific, but it showed us that we couldn’t stay isolated any longer.”

Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders, pulling him in against his chest. “A few months after graduation, another threat rose up. They were called the Dread Doctors and they brought these things called chimeras with them. A few, we were able to free and turn to our side, others were too far gone. They attacked anyone and everyone. Human, supernatural, hunter, it didn’t matter.”

“The FBI got involved - your dad - got involved,” Stiles explained. “We were finally able to get everything under control, but it proved that we needed a better network to keep us all safe.”

Derek took over the story, the pride in his voice clear. “Stiles, Rafe, and Chris set up the first Supernatural Council. There are thirteen representatives of the major supernatural groups, law enforcement, and hunters. Their purpose is to stop the issues before the mundanes find out about them. For too long the hunters were judge, jury, and executioner, now, they’re policed as rigorously as the supernatural community. It’s been a trial, but no one wants to piss Stiles off to the extent that he lets Void out. So far, it’s worked.”

“What this means for you, Scott,” Peter chimed in. “Is that we will do anything to protect this fragile peace Stiles has managed to force into being. Christopher and your own father, will do anything to protect it. You were spared and we will abide by the Between’s judgement, but we will not let you threaten this peace. Do you understand?”

Scott nodded slowly. God, so much had changed. He’d thought, when he showed up at the Stilinski’s door and saw his mom, that everything would be alright now. That they’d be able to go back to the way things were before he ever got bit, but he had been naïve. The Pack had moved on without him and now he had to figure out what that meant. Where he fit in to this strange, new world that looked like home, but no longer felt like it.

“I understand,” he said slowly. “I…” he glanced at his mom, who still had tears in her eyes, but was letting Stiles, Derek and Peter tell her how much they could interact, and wasn’t sure he could bear to be an outsider in his own town.

“It might be better if I go live with dad,” he said haltingly. He wasn’t afraid of Rafe anymore, but he didn’t exactly like him either. Still, a clean break to figure out how to live again might be the best, for everyone. That was something he’d learned the hard way in the Between, that he wasn’t the most important person and that sometimes, you had to think about other’s needs before your own.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but he was determined to learn from his mistakes and become a better man.

Melissa choked on a sob as she wrapped him up in a tight embrace. “I don’t want you to go,” she whispered to him. “But I don’t think you can stay, either.”

She pressed a wet kiss to the side of his head. “He’s not the same man he was. He’s sober and he works with the Pack all the time. He can teach you about what has changed, if you want that. If you want to be an ally to the Pack.”

Scott gave a jerky nod. He wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore, but maybe this was how he could fix his past mistakes. Maybe he could help the Pack he almost destroyed.

He looked at Stiles gazing at Derek. His face so open and full of love that it made something inside Scott twist with remorse and longing. Stiles slid his fingers against Derek’s jaw, the silver of their wedding band glinting in the lamp light until the older man snagged his fingers, and pressed a tender kiss to the band.

Maybe this was how he got his family back.

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Derek waited until Boyd, Jackson, and Danny had left with Scott to check out the apartment before he took Melissa into the Den with Stiles; he shook his head when Noah went to follow. He knew his ruling was more than fair, considering what Scott had done before he’d been banished, but it was still a little cruel, and he wanted to give Melissa the chance to tell them off without worrying about what Noah might think.

“I’m sorry, Mel,” he said, settling heavily on the leather sofa, Stiles settling across his lap to offer comfort to his husband.

Melissa gave him a watery smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not mad at you, Derek,” she said gently, dabbing the corner of her sleeve against her cheek. “I knew if he ever came back, he probably wouldn’t be allowed to stay. Even under Deaton’s control, he was still responsible for his actions. He tried to kill the Pack. He allowed the continued, systematic rapping of Lydia’s mind.” She shuddered violently, she’d spent many long hours working with Lydia and Marin to help the young banshee get over that. It was worse, perhaps, than a physical assault, to have one’s mind twisted and abused as it was.

“And even before he became an Alpha, before Deaton got his hooks into him, Scott had changed. He put so many people in danger, the two of you the most, and Stiles was human, defenseless. He actively fought against you every step of the way Derek, and while I know there was plenty of blame to go around those first few months, his treatment of you was wrong on so many levels. Forcing you to give Gerard the bite was just as bad as what he did to Lydia, in my opinion.”

She sighed dejectedly. “I don’t blame you for being cautious. Just because he was returned, doesn’t mean he can accept his new reality. He has to earn the right to be near the Pack again, especially with the babies in the house. That you would offer to support him until he finished school and got a job is beyond kind, but I really do think he’d do better with Rafe.”

She twisted her fingers together in agitation. “We talk a few times a month, as you know. It’s not easy, being in the same room as the man who hit you, and I would never give up my relationship with your father, but Rafael has changed since the Dread Doctors. Seeing what we were dealing with, what type of destruction could happen if both sides weren’t kept in line…he really gets it, and he’s become a much better man working with you and Chris, Stiles. With Scott being human again, and the distrust the Pack has for him, I think working with Rafe and our allies would be a good way for him to understand everything that’s happened.”

“He can stay in the Loft, Melissa,” Stiles said. “We won’t keep you from him, we just don’t trust him in the house with you and dad just yet.”

Melissa reached across to snag Stiles’ fingers. “I know you wouldn’t, mijo,” she said. “But I’m not sure I trust him yet, either. He did a lot of damage before he left and he needs to make amends for that. I know if I ever want to fly to D.C. and see him you and Derek will make it happen, and if it works out with Rafe, then we’ll probably see him more often than not, since you work so closely together.”

“It won’t happen immediately,” Derek said. “Rafe is with Chris and Kira in Arizona trying to figure out what’s happening with the Dams, they’re all on Federal land, so he’s got jurisdiction, but it’ll be a few weeks at the least, before he’d be able to take him, and if he wants to wait until he graduates, then that’s fine. We’re not doing this to be cruel to either of you, we’re just cautious.”

Melissa gave him a slightly stronger smile this time as she rose to her feet. “I know you’re not, and I appreciate it, Derek. I love you all, you’re my sons as much as he is, and while it isn’t a perfect solution, I think, in the long run, it will be better for all of us.”

“It’s furnished,” Boyd said, unlocking the door to 2F. “We keep it pretty standard until we know who’s going to be moving in. The kitchen’s through there,” he said, pointing to the left of the living room. “Bedroom and bath are to the right. We’ll set you up with an account at the grocery store on Main Street and get the internet and cable turned on later today.”

“I’ll send a laptop and cell phone over and coordinate with Melissa to get whatever's left of your stuff out of the Pack's storage locker,” Danny pipped in, typing notes into his cell phone. “You’ll have a pretty basic package to start with, but if there’s something in particular you need, you can just let one of us know and we’ll run it by the Alphas for approval.”

“They really tell you all what to do?” Scott asked wearily.

Danny stopped typing to look up at Scott with narrowed eyes. “We have a budget that we work within. You do realize according to Pack law they had every right to banish you the minute you showed back up, right? That just because the Between let you go doesn’t mean they have to do a thing for you? The only reason you’re being allowed to stay at all is because of Melissa. After trying to kill most of us, and being a complete tool to Derek and Stiles, not to mention what you did to Lydia, I’m honestly surprised they let you live at all back then.”

Scott ducked his head, face burning with embarrassment. Danny was right, and the fact that it was Danny that called him out on his past behavior at all somehow made it even worse.

“You’re right,” he said meekly. “They didn’t have to let me stay, or do all this. I’m…I’m sorry. I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you're all adults and I’m stuck as this,” he said, waving at his teenage self.

“You were in Between,” Jackson said dismissively. “Time doesn’t work the same way there. Just be glad whatever you saw stayed there and didn’t follow you out.”

Scott blanched, his hands trembled slightly at the thought of any of that being real. “Is that…could that really happen?”

All three men nodded.

“You have to understand, Scott,” Danny said. “The Between is a different plane of existence. It’s the convergence of every potential time line, so everything you saw - everything you felt – it was real, somewhere.”

Danny wrapped his arms around his chest, his eyes glowing teal before he took a shaky breath. Jackson crowded up behind him, pulling his mate in close. “I’ve seen what happens when Stiles let’s something from the Between out into our timeline. The Anuk-ite destroyed almost a hundred hunters in less than an hour. And it was a bad way to die. The nightmares…the way they turned on each other…” he swallowed convulsively. “Be glad it was just you that came back.”

“If Stiles is so dangerous, then why do you follow him?”

Jackson growled in irritation. “You don’t get it, do you? Stiles isn’t dangerous to us. He’d burn the world down to protect us. He puts himself on the line every single day for us and he never once makes us feel like we’re beneath him or less than him. He’s the strongest supernatural on the Western Seaboard, maybe the entire US, but he would never abuse his power.”

“He’d kill himself first,” Boyd said, placing the key on the coffee table in the center of the room. “You aren’t being punished for coming back. We don’t trust you and until we do, Stiles and Derek will feel the need to protect us, even if we can protect ourselves. So, think about what you learned in the Between and then think about how two of the most protective people in the world are giving you this chance to prove yourself to us.”

He turned towards the door, opening it for Danny and Jackson to pass through before turning back to Scott standing alone in the apartment. “Think about what you want from this second chance, Scott, because if you betray the Pack again, I can guarantee you they won’t give you a third.”

Stiles should have known better than to think Lydia wouldn’t call him after everything, he just wasn’t planning on Marin being on the video call as well.

“Is this an intervention?” he asked hesitantly.

Lydia flung her hair over her shoulder. “Hardly. Why, do you feel like it should be?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Don’t start psycho-analyzing me, Lyds, it’s not cute.”

Lydia gave him a sharp smile. “Everything I do is cute, Alpha, and you know it, but no, I just wanted to check that you were okay with how the meeting went down. Marin is here for the psycho-analysis.”

Stiles blew out a breath and shrugged, he had Eli in his arms in the rocking chair in their attached nursery, Cora handing him over the minute Scott was outside the perimeter wards. “I’m not going to say I’m a hundred percent fine with things, but it could have been worse.”

“Psychologically, I’d have to say that’s a rather defeatist attitude, Stiles,” Marin said. “But considering our lives, a pragmatic one. Still, this is the man you considered to be a brother for most of your adolescence. Are you really alright with sending him away just as you got him back?”

Stiles bit his lip as he thought. He glanced down into his son’s sleeping face, and then over to the pink and white cribbing with Alicia’s name stenciled across the wall behind it. Erica was only six months along and barely showing, but the minute they knew she was going to have a girl, the decorating had been fast and furious. The Pack was excited at another pup running around, and they all knew it was just a matter of time before Liam and Hayden added to the mix, as weird as it was seeing his baby beta being all grown-up.

“I can’t risk him betraying us again,” he finally answered. “Senior year was bad enough. The trauma we all endured was bad enough, but now with the pups…” he glanced up into the camera, his eyes black and the slightest edge of gravel to his voice. “I won’t let anyone hurt this Pack and I’d never let Der live through the loss of another family. We wouldn’t make it and the world wouldn’t survive if I lost him or Eli. You both know that.”

The two women nodded in silent understanding. What he was trying to say was that he wouldn’t survive the loss as himself; that he’d give in to the darkness of the nogitsune spirit inside him and then no one would be safe. The loss of one ex-friend was something he could live with if it kept the darkness back. Melissa understood this. The Pack understood this. It might not be right, but it wasn’t exactly wrong either.

“And if he proves worthy?” Marin pushed.

The blackness receded slowly. His smile, when it came, was small and wistful. “Then, I guess I get my brother back.”

-tbc-

Chapter Text

Stiles met with Rafe and Chris in a crappy diner outside Tucson, Arizona. Kira was bundled up in a thick wooly parka, her nose a bright red and eyes watering.

“I didn’t think kitsune could catch colds,” Rafe noted as he pushed the box of Kleenex across the table.

“Ah got won tail,” she muttered stuffily. “’acticlly hooman.”

Rafe turned to Chris. “What did she say?”

Chris sighed, it’d been a long two weeks and he was ready to have this assignment done. “She said with only one tail she’s practically human. Now, can we get back to the situation at hand? Please?” he wasn’t quite whining, but it was about as close as the hunter was going to get and it made Stiles and Kira snicker.

“’orry,” she muttered, curling up against Stiles. “’n’t tink ‘essie.”

Stiles curled an arm around her shoulder in sympathy. “I doubt anyone’s first thought was the Loch Ness Monster, Kitkat,” he soothed. “And according to your mom, I’m an idiot for sending you to deal with a water situation regardless, but I really wasn’t planning on you going for a swim with the thing.”

Kira rubbed her nose against his shoulder, abashed. She knew as a thunder kitsune water could be used against her, but like Stiles, she hadn’t planned on getting grabbed by the thing’s tail and dragged down to the bottom of the reservoir. Her lightning had been the only way to get free, but using all that magic had left her susceptible to the cold and wet, and now she had a stupid head cold that made her a liability and brought her Alpha out to fix her mess.

“’orry, pha,” she said dejectedly, pressing closer.

“It’s not a big deal, Kira,” he said gently. “We just need a different plan of attack.”

“I can’t drain the dam,” Rafe said. “The area’s been in a drought too long and the loss would destroy the local economy.”

“Munitions are out too,” Chris explained. “There’s too great a chance of damaging the dam.”

“Fire is the only real way to destroy the thing, but I’m hesitant to kill it considering how few of them are left in the world,” Stiles blew out a frustrated breath. He leaned back in the booth seat, Kira snuggled up beside him as she tried to breathe through her mouth without looking like an idiot.

“’at bout void?” she finally asked. Making the three men turn to her in confusion.

“What do you mean?” Chris asked.

“’tween. ‘nother ‘orld.”

Rafe shook his head. He had no idea what the fox was trying to say.

“Oh, I see,” Stiles said, sitting up straight. “Huh, yeah, sending it through the Between into another world might work, but I’d have to find one that would be safe for it. It’s going to take some time.”

“I can keep the dam closed for ‘repairs’ for another week at most, then people are going to start asking some major questions. Will that be long enough?” Rafe questioned him.

“Should be,” Stiles answered distractedly, already running through possible timelines.

“Good, then let’s talk about my son.”

Stiles jerked hard enough to knock his shoulder into Chris, and spill the hunter’s coffee across the table.

“Jesus, McCall,” Chris muttered, grabbing a handful of napkins to sop up the mess. “Learn a bit of tact for once.”

Rafe shrugged, the edge of a smirk on his lips that told Stiles he’d phrased it that way on purpose.

“Okay, asshole,” Stiles growled, tossing a bunched-up napkin at the Fed, “what do you want to know?”

“How safe is he in your territory?”

Stiles blinked at the concern in Rafael’s voice. “As long as he doesn’t try to kill anyone, he’s as safe as any other human.”

Rafe nodded, his fingers drumming absently on the Formica table-top. “And Melissa’s really okay with him coming to live with me? What about Scott, is he okay with it?”

“Melissa’s okay with the idea. It was actually her idea to begin with. Der and I aren’t comfortable with him in either house right now and the loft will give him some space of his own until he can reintegrate with the Pack, or he moves in with you. I’m not sure how he feels about you, but he’s meeting with Marin twice a week to work through everything that happened.”

He groaned as Kira settled back against him. “I know he was a victim too, and that we really don’t know just how much Deaton twisted him for his own purposes, but for now, the Loft is the best option we could come up with. After we deal with this Nessie issue, if you can get the time off, I’d suggest you come back and stay for a few days. See if he talks to you about what happened and how he feels. If you guys think him living with you in D.C. is the best option, we’ll make that work, if not, the Pack will support him until he can support himself. We’re not going to just abandon him after everything, but we aren’t ready to bring him in just yet either.”

"Does he...will he come live with me?" Rafe asked hesitantly.

"Do you want him to?"

Rafael nodded slowly, a look of vulnerability on his features for once. "I screwed up when he was a kid. I know that. I've tried to make amends with Mel and Noah, but I never really had the chance with Scott and I'd like to have a relationship with my son."

Stiles pursed his lips in thought. "I can't speak for Scott," he hedged. "I haven't really spoken to him since the meeting. Honestly, I'm not sure what to say. I think you'd be good for him, the way you are now. I think, seeing what you do for the Council would be good for him. As a human with knowledge of the supernatural, but non-affiliated, being with you is the safest way for him to go forward, unless he wants a clean break from all of us, that is."

He glanced up at Rafael and gave him a hesitant smile. "I'd like the chance to have my brother back too, so I get wanting to try and have a family again, but how that goes is going to be up to you and Scott. You'll have to work for his forgiveness, just like he's going to have to work for the Pack's."

Rafe nodded his understanding, then turned to Chris. “Any word about Allison?”

The hunter’s lips thinned. “No,” he said in a clipped tone. “Scott was a victim, as Stiles said, Allison…Allison was not. She made her choices and I know I taught her better than a lot of what she did. None of us is perfect, but I’ve made peace with my past mistakes, and I’m working to make sure other’s never have the opportunity to do the same damage Gerard and Kate…and Allison, did. If she ever comes back, Peter and I will be there for her, but I know it won’t be the same. ”

He shoved the mess of soiled napkins away from him, then held a hand up for their server to bring their check, signaling the end of the conversation.

“If she comes back, I will abide by my Alpha’s decision in the matter and I will never let her hurt my Pack again. If she can't accept us, even after the Between, then that will be it.”

Stiles waited until the hunter had walked off the pay for their coffee before speaking lowly. "We all hope she makes her was back to us, but Chris isn't the same man he was when she left. Being Peter's mate, living together, and I know they are thinking of adopting, if she can't accept that, the solution won't be as clean as Scott's. She'll have to be banished, she's too dangerous otherwise."

"Do you think she's a viable threat?" Rafe asked in the same tone his father used on perps back when he was Sherriff.

Stiles nodded slowly. "I think everyone's a viable threat until they prove me wrong and Allison...if Allison ever threatened the Pack, knowing what she knows, and as trained as she was...then there won't be time for talking things through."

His eyes bled black when he looked up. "If she ever pulls a blade or nocks an arrow on a member of my Pack again...or God forbid my kid? Chris won't have the chance to end her, because I will."

Stiles sent Kira home after the meeting, popping back to the Pack house to check the library and confer with Peter and Lydia about the best possible convergence point. After two days, he’d made a decision, and popped back in to help Chris and Rafe move the creature along. The expense of energy left him too tired to teleport them all back to California, so he ended up being away from his mate and pup for three whole days, the longest he’d ever been away since Eli was born.

He found Erica sitting in the nursery feeding him when he returned.

“Hey Catwoman,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head. He brushed long fingers over Eli’s hair, smiling when his pup opened a sleepy eye and gurgled happily, even if it did mean dribbled formula all down his front.

“Hey Batman,” she sighed in exasperation, wiping away the mess. “No more Nessie?”

“Nope, she’s hanging out in what will eventually become a golf course lake in Scotland.”

“Better than a reservoir in Arizona,” the she-wolf quipped back with a little giggle. “I heard you brought back Chris and Rafe. Was Uncle Creeper waiting to jump on Chris the minute you solidified?”

Stiles shuddered. “Oh yeah, apparently they have 'years of sex to make up for' and my cockblocking was not appreciated in the least.”

Erica cackled softly, her blond curls bouncing around her face. “They are so very hot together and still, somehow so very, very wrong.” She gave him a sly smile. “Does it make me a bad packmate if I kinda want to catch them in the act?”

Stiles snorted. “I think most of the Pack kinda want to catch them, to be honest, which is a horrible thing to say and rather weirdly incestuous, but I gave up trying to change you perverts after freshman year in college.”

This time Erica didn’t bother keeping her voice down. She laughed long and loud. “God, freshman year was such a mess. I’m surprised anyone can look at each other after Liam spiked Isaac’s birthday cake with that aphrodisiac you and Lydia came up with.”

Stiles hung his head at the memory. “It was practically an orgy by the time we returned from the store. Der and I had to literally peel some of you off each other and I had to schedule back-to-back sessions with Marin for most of the Pack for weeks after that.”

“Think about it this way, mom, you can honestly say there is nothing we can do to embarrass you more than that night.”

Stiles barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

“And now look at us,” she said softly, her hand sliding over her stomach. “You and Derek are real dads, and Boyd and I are going to be mom and dad to our own little ankle biter soon.”

She gave him a watery smile and a flash of white teeth. “We’ve grown up,” she said quietly. “And it’s all thanks to you for taking a chance that night after the harpies.”

She took Stiles’ hand in her own, squeezing tightly, knowing her Alpha could take it.

“Thank you, Alpha,” she whispered. “Thank you for taking the chance on us. Thank you for making us family.”

Stiles swallowed back the lump in his throat. “We’re rodzina, Eri,” he said thickly. “All of us and we always will be.”

“Rodzina,” she returned as he settled down beside her. And she knew that no matter what happened next, be it Scott, or Allison, or another monster of the week, they’d be okay, because Stiles was right, they were family and they would stand strong together.

No matter what.

-end-

Chapter Text

It was a little over two-years later when Chris and Peter woke to the sound of a squalling infant on their front step. Things hadn’t been perfect since they’d reconnected. There were still the fights and the machinations and the suspicion, but there was also a deep abiding love that helped them through all the ups and downs that came with their relationship.

Before Scott had popped back into existence, they’d even discussed the idea of adopting, but it had fallen through, the threat of Allison’s re-emergence in their lives making the idea distasteful and a bit terrifying, because if there was one way to hurt any parent, it was to go after their kid and the idea that the perpetrator could be a sibling? It wasn’t something either man could stomach.

Luckily, they had Eli and Alicia, and now little Benji, Liam and Hayden’s son, to dote on and babysit when they got those parental feels, but it wasn’t the same as having your own child, and Chris had already lost one of those. So, the sound of a strange infant screaming bloody murder at 2:30 in the morning had both men stumble running for the door and weapons. Peter in full Beta shift before he even wrenched open the wood.

“Holy shit,” the wolf said, sounding much too like Stiles for Chris’ peace of mind.

“What, what is it, where’s the threat, what’s…is that a baby?!” the hunter stumbled against an end table, almost nocking over a lamp in his haste to get to his mate.

“No, it’s a unicorn,” Peter snapped, “yes it’s a baby and it…Chris, she smells like Allison.”

Chris’ knees gave out as he collapsed against the wall. “No,” he whispered fearfully.

Peter howled, knowing his Pack would coming running to check on them, before closing the door and crossing to Chris. “I don’t understand, but she…she smells the same, but without the taint of wolfsbane.”

He handed the still crying infant to Chris, who held her dumbly for a long moment until the baby looked up at him with big brown eyes and hiccuped, settling silently. Chris pulled her close, tears filling his eyes as he nuzzled the top of her head.

“I need Stiles,” he whispered brokenly. “We have to be sure, I can’t…I can’t lose her again, Peter.”

Peter settled beside his mate to wait, knowing from the Pack bonds that they were close.

“Peter! Chris!” Stiles came through the door like the wrath of God, black eyes and fangs and claws on display, shadows rolling through the room to engulf everything before him.

“We’re here,” Peter called quietly, watching Chris and the baby closely. If this was some kind of trick, the shadows would show them.

“Uncle Peter!” Derek yelled, charging into the room. He backpedaled hard when he saw the infant, causing Stiles to run into his back with a soft ‘omph.’

“Is that a baby?!” he asked incredulously, making both men roll their eyes and Chris give a slightly hysterical laugh.

“Yes, nephew, it is, and we could really use our Alpha’s noses right now.” Peter said, waving the two forward. He saw the rest of the Pack crowd into the front hall and caught Melissa’s eye, waving the nurse forward as well.

Stiles squatted down beside Chris and gently removed the wrapping to see her better. he sucked in a sharp breath at the brown eyes looking back at him. There was no fear, just a gentle curiosity at the weird man looking at her upside down.

He leaned down close enough to sniff along the top of her head, his eyes going wide at the scent. “She’s… Der, check, I can’t…we need to be sure.”

Derek swallowed loudly before following his mate’s example and kneeling down to press his nose against the soft hair. Beneath the baby sweet scent of powder and milk, he found the underling familial thread to Chris, the sharpness of lemons twisted up with fabric softener and leather that was unique to the Allison Argent that he had known.

He sat back with a stunned expression on his face. “It’s her,” he whispered, looking up into Chris’ tear- filled eyes. “It’s Allison, she’s back.”

To say the next few hours were chaotic would have been an understatement. Allison, or Marie, as she was renamed, since Chris couldn’t exactly adopt his own daughter, or explain her sudden infant-ness to anyone without sounding like a loon, was taken to the hospital with Melissa for a full check-up and declared a healthy three-month-old.

“Why Marie?” Melissa had asked as she took her measurements.

“It was her middle name. Allison Marie. If she can’t be Ally any more, than she can at least be my little Marie.”

Melissa had given the two men a knowing smile. “Danny’s already working with Jordan on the paperwork,” she told them, having been kept in the loop by Isaac, who was a junior counselor in the hospital’s pediatric ward as of eight-months prior, having just finished his clinicals and passed his exams.

“Give them a few more hours and you’ll be ready to go. In the meantime, how about you two go get something to eat from the Cafeteria and I’ll get this little one a bottle.”

“I can feed her,” Chris said quickly.

Melissa patted his shoulder. “I know you can, but right now you need to eat, and your mate’s about to go out of their skin with needing to check on you, so go, Marie and I will be right here, surrounded by Pack, so you know nothing will get to her.”

Chris reluctantly agreed, allowing Peter to pull him from the room and down the hall. When he saw most of the Pack settled into the cafeteria, he understood what was happening. He made his way over to the empty seats beside Stiles and dropped his head to the table’s surface.

“Is she real?”

Stiles nodded as he rubbed a soothing hand across Chris’ shoulders. Chris wasn’t the most comfortable with affection, but right then, even the most stoic man would need a hand. “She smells right. Melissa typed her blood and it’s correct. We’ll get a full work-up in a few hours, but my gut says it’s her. Do you…this isn’t like with Scott. When he came back, he was almost eighteen and capable of doing damage to the Pack. Ally…Marie, is not a threat in this form and unless she magically ages – which Lydia, Mia, and I all highly doubt – you have the chance to start over. To make it right from the very beginning, but it’s your choice. Yours and Peters. If you don’t think you can handle it, we’ll find a foster family. Someone we trust to raise her.”

“No,” Chris said sharply, pushing himself up from the table and staring at the Pack incredulously. “She’s my daughter. I lost her once; I’m not losing her again.”

Stiles gave him a proud smile and something inside him loosened at the sight. He glanced at Peter who had a similar look on his face. Love, he realized. Pride and love.

“We thought you might say that,” Stiles said gently. “The girls are already scrounging up all the baby stuff Alicia has outgrown for your house, and tomorrow, or later this morning, as it were, we’ll send someone out for whatever you’re missing so we can set up another crib in the nursery at the main House. She’s yours, Chris, but she’s also ours.”

“Can she be Pack?” he asked quietly.

Stiles rose to his feet and glanced at the assembled members of their Pack. Most were here, Mason and Corey were in New York for their honeymoon, but otherwise…

“Anyone have an issue with baby Marie being Pack?”

When everyone smiled and shook their heads no, Stiles turned back to the new fathers. “Pack vote rules, Marie is Pack until she’s old enough to make that decision for herself.”

“I’ll do it right this time,” Chris swore. “I’ll give her the childhood she should have had.”

He stepped forward and clasped Stiles’ hand. “A family she can be proud of.”

“Rodzina,” Peter muttered, making Chris smile.

“Pack.”

-end-