Chapter Text
Stiles looked around at the shocked faces around him. Some of these people Stiles knew very well, like Liam and Isaac, neither of whom had left Beacon Hills to go to college. Well, technically Isaac had come back to Beacon Hills after the other left. They were sitting on a bench in front of the windows looking a little shell shocked. Maliahe knew too well. Looking back, Stiles couldn't help but think that their relationship had been slightly unhealthy.
But then, Stiles imagined most high school romances were not the stuff of psychologically healthy relationships. Seeing his old friends made him miss Lydia who had just started medical school and even asshole Jackson. But that had been his pack in high school.
This was now Scott’s pack. Or it had been before Scott lost his alpha spark.
The others had come after Stiles left for college, so he only knew them from Scott's stories or from brief interactions on holidays.
There was Penny who sat on the edge of a dining room chair Derek had pulled into the living space. She was a twenty-six-year-old werewolf who taught at the local grade school and had the ability to do a full shift. Chris and Scott had rescued her from that stupid werewolf army, and she decided to stay in Beacon Hills where she had the protection of pack. Maybe the hunters knew where she was, but they wouldn't come after her.
Beacon Hills had never been lucky for the hunters.
Johnny and Barrett, a couple who proved that Beacon Hills was still able to skew the ten percent gay statistic heavily in favor of gayness, shared one overstuffed armchair. They were both juniors in the local high school and the youngest members of Scott's pack. They had fled to Beacon Hills when they escaped from the werewolf who had turned them, and they looked a little like their world had just crumbled around their ears. They hadn’t handled the news of Scott’s de-alphaing well. Sitting in the matching armchair was Corey, a chimera who had showed up during the Dread Doctors disaster, but Stiles didn’t know him well.
Celeste sat on the spiral staircase, the position that Peter had historically taken, but he had gone back to Virginia. Stiles clung to his back bond with Peter to reassure himself. The man hadn’t gotten himself killed yet. But if Peter were going to do something immoral and necessary, in some ways it was better that Stiles not be around. Stiles was very aware of the fact that Peter curbed his more violent tendencies when Stiles was near, and right now was not a time for moderation.
Add in Scott, and one werefox, and the pack was bigger than Stiles was used to. Bigger and more supernaturally supercharged. They had traded in one half-helpful druid for one superpowered witch and Stiles’s in-training flame. There wasn’t a single human in the room, and the pack still had two alphas with Derek and Peter, although Stiles wasn’t sure the rest of the pack knew that yet. They were struggling with the revelation that Scott wasn’t an alpha anymore. Peter said that he would establish pack bonds with any shifters who wanted one after they had settled in.
Stiles felt like they had entered some period of nuclear proliferation. Werewolf packs were trying to get bigger to defend themselves from hunters, and hunters were reacting to the increased werewolf recruitment by trying to kill them. It was not a good situation.
And Stiles had just thrown the grenade in the middle by siccing the FBI on the Argents. The next time Stiles considered doing anything that stupid, he seriously hoped that Peter would sit on him. Stiles knew he tended to flail a little during battle, both physically and metaphorically. He would never abandon his pack, but he also wasn’t a fighter… unless he could drive a car into the problem. That worked. But apparently his flail technique of fighting had spilled over into strategy as well.
Did Stiles like the idea of watching the Argents go down? Oh hell yes. He was just a little terrified that other hunting families might feel a need to retaliate. That retaliation should come in the form of them being pissed at the FBI, but Stiles knew that hunters had a unique ability to blame werewolves for everything. If a hurricane showed up, they would find a way to blame a werewolf.
Derek stood by the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the betas. The last member of the pack, a werefox named Frank, perched on a stool not far from Derek. Stiles hadn't gotten a good feel for Frank yet, but he suspected there was some great trauma in the man's background because he seemed to channel Derek’s gloominess. He was nineteen and blonde and lithe, but despite all the physical differences, he projected a Derek ‘stay-away’ vibe.
Scott sat in the middle of the couch with Malia on one side and Penny on the other. Scott curled and uncurled his hands, his werewolf claws on full display.
“So the spell backfired and now I'm not an alpha at all. I can't believe Deaton did that.” This was the fourth time Scott had said some variation of this, and each time, the pack grew more tense.
“I can,” Stiles muttered, but no one other than Derek seemed to hear him.
“You can just get another alpha spark. You can kill an alpha,” Malia suggested with a strange sort of cheerful mien.
Scott glanced up at Derek, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop about ten degrees. Immediately, Scott shook his head. “I won't kill someone for an alpha spark. That's wrong.”
Maybe Scott thought that would make things better, but the emotional temperature in the room dropped another ten degrees and he threw that not-so-subtle insult at Derek.
“Then be a true alpha again,” Malia said. She never did like being told something wasn't possible. It was one of the traits Stiles liked best about her.
Penny looked at Celeste. “Is that possible? Can he become a true alpha again?”
Celeste shrugged. “Anything is technically possible,” she said. “He would have to break his pack bonds so that he is not tempted to rely on his wolf for stability, then he would need to ensure that his anchor was human and then he need to find two or three humans who loved him with the devotion that a beta loves their alpha and then he might become a spontaneous alpha.” She pursed her lips. “No magic user has ever been present at the moment when a spontaneous alpha finally solidifies their power, so I can't say I understand what the final ingredient is in the spell, but I do know that he would need to start with those conditions at the very least.”
Malia looked at Stiles and nudged Scott with her shoulder. “You already have Stiles as a beta. So you only need one other human. We can find you a human.”
Scott cringed, probably thinking about the fact that he had refused to allow Stiles to be his beta; however, there was a bigger problem. Stiles spoke up. “I'm not entirely human anymore. The fact that my spark has tipped over into being a flame means that I have natural defenses on my power. I can't be one of the people who fuels his spontaneous spark because I don't have the sort of steady slow trickle a human possesses.”
Celeste spoke up just as Malia opened her mouth. “Given that Stiles is one of the most volatile flames I have ever worked with, I would suggest that attempting to use his natural energies would be akin to using a fire hydrant to wash your dishes. I would anticipate a lot of breakage.”
Stiles could see Malia's disappointment.
Penny looked around the room. “I know this means that we've lost a fighter.” She stopped and gave Scott a stricken look. “Well, it's not that we lost a fighter, because you can still fight, but you always say that that the betas should leave most of the fighting to the alphas because you're stronger. So it's not that you can't fight; it's just that you won't be as um… as… you know… um… strong… now.” She stopped.
Stiles was happy to know that someone had taken up the mantle of awkward and inappropriate conversations now that he had left. Penny was bright red, and Malia looked homicidal.
“Derek,” Stiles said as he frowned at Derek, willing him to get in there and say something or do something or just pretend to be more involved than a wall decoration. Derek stared at him while Celeste was looking from Derek to Stiles and back with amusement. She had just a little bit of sadism in her, which probably explained why Peter liked her and was even willing to trust her wards to keep him safe while he was in Virginia.
“Scott is a better fighter because he doesn't hide from fights like you,” Malia snapped at Penny.
Penny sat up straighter. “I fight any time my alpha has asked me to fight.” Knowing Scott the way he did, Stiles was guessing that meant never. Scott was pretty good at martyring himself.
Malia glared at Penny before turning to Scott. “Well, if you won't kill someone…” Malia looked at Scott expectantly, but he just shook his head. “Right. Then we just need to find you human pack members. And then we temporarily break the bond until you get your spark back, and then we go and we kill Deaton.” She seemed pretty confident in her plan.
Scott's mouth fell open. “What? No!”
“I don't know. It seems reasonable to me.” Barrett offered.
Scott growled at him. “No, it isn't. Deaton made a mistake. If we were going to kill people for making mistakes, where would that end?” Scott had the nerve to look right at Stiles. Stiles loved Scott, but sometimes the self-involved prick had the survival skills of a lemming. Stiles took a deep breath before he accidentally unleashed his magic. It wasn't like he was stable right now.
“Scott,” Isaac said quietly, packing a world of disapproval into that one word.
Stiles offered Isaac a grateful smile. “I understand why your betas are so aggravated,” Stiles said. “As far as screw ups go, this was bad. And long term. And intentional.” After Barrett got a smug look on his face, Stiles added. “But you're right that he was just trying to help. It was stupid, and misguided, and very arrogant because he thought that he could control spark magic even when he saw that I was on the verge of coming online as a flame. But it wasn’t intended to hurt us.”
Scott winced, probably biting back a defense of his mentor. Stiles looked over at Derek again, but he was still silent. Stiles reached for the pack bond he shared with Derek and pulled it. Hard.
Derek jerked forward a step and looked around as if startled. When the whole pack looked at him, he said, “We're not killing Deaton.” He looked over at Stiles, and Stiles rolled his eyes. Peter might not be entirely wrong about Derek's omega depression. But this pack could not afford to have Derek sit on the sidelines and nurse his bad mood.
Scott turned to Malia with his puppy-dog eyes. “If you don't want to continue with us, I get it. I'm not the alpha now.” Scott's gaze dropped to the floor, and Malia reared back.
For a second, she stared at him in horror and then she backhanded him across the arm. Hard. “Do you really think I would dump you just because you're not the alpha?”
Scott's gaze shot back up to her and he stared at her with his eyes wide. Malia backhanded him again. “You idiot. I like you, even when you're being an idiot. And I don't care if the color of your eyes is red or gold or blue. I'm not that shallow.” She narrowed her eyes and made it very clear that she considered certain people very shallow for caring about that sort of thing. Stiles did love her. She said all the things he wanted to.
Stiles looked at Derek again, but he continued to stand there with an expression that came closest to a deer caught in headlights.
Stiles got up and headed for Derek. “The two of us are going out for pizza. You guys get the movie together and give Scotty some love. It's been a hard day for him.”
Celeste stood. “I should go with you and monitor your magic.”
Stiles gave her a flat look. She was the one who told him that as long as he didn't feel a burn or perform magic that he wasn't going to blow up. So he knew full well that she was trying to play bodyguard because of Peter's mile-wide overprotective streak. “I'll be just fine with Derek. Derek tell her she can't come with us.” Derek looked from Stiles to Celeste as if unsure what to do, and Stiles planted an elbow in Derek's ribs.
Derek growled at him, but then he looked at Celeste and said, “We’re just going to the pizza place. We’ll be fine.” Derek caught Stiles his arm and jerked him towards the door so fast that Stiles lost his balance and had to cling to Derek to avoid falling on the floor.
“Hey! Human here!”
“Annoying human,” Derek countered.
“Well, yeah, but you knew that way before you agreed to have a pack bond with me.” Derek pushed him out the door and slid the loft door shut behind them. The ride down in the elevator was silent and Derek kept his arms crossed over his chest as though aggravated. Stiles had no idea what he had a right to be aggravated about. He was the one that was screwing up.
They got out to the street and the brand-new Jeep Peter had rented for Stiles. Stiles started the jeep before Derek finally asked, “What did you want to talk about?”
“You're assuming I wanted to talk, as opposed to wanting someone to carry all the pizza boxes? Do you have any idea how much pizza werewolves eat?”
The look Derek and gave him was classic Derek Hale. Stiles backed out of the parking space and started down the road. “Order on your phone so that we can wait in the parking lot until the pizzas are ready,” he said.
“Unlike Scott, I actually am your alpha,” Derek said.
Stiles waited until they were to stop sign before he turned to look at Derek. “Fine. We'll order the pizza once we reach the pizza shop and then I will have more time to tell you how much you’re screwing up. I wouldn't mind a little extra time to get in the specific details.”
Derek glared at him for the entire length of the red light, but once Stiles started driving, Derek pulled out his phone to make an online order. Stubborn man.
“Derek, I happen to think you are a great alpha in a lot of ways,” Stiles started.
“Why do I hear a ‘but’ in there?” he asked dryly.
“But,” Stiles said dramatically, “you need to not make the same mistakes Scott did.”
“I am nothing like Scott,” Derek snapped.
Stiles nodded. “Okay, let's play a little twenty questions. What did Scott do that aggravated me so much that it would've it ended our entire friendship if I were not an amazingly understanding and forgiving friend?”
“You’re neither understanding nor forgiving,” Derek pointed out. He wasn’t wrong. “However, you are obsessive about holding onto the people you see as yours, so much so that you are nearly a werewolf yourself, only one without the heightened senses or claws or the fangs or any of the strength that would allow you to defend yourself. So you have all the obsessions with none of our advantages.” Derek gave Stiles a smile that was worthy of Peter. It occurred to Stiles that he liked some pretty big assholes.
“Snarky, but also true,” Stiles said. “Now, back to what Scotty did to screw up.”
Derek sighed dramatically. “He pushed you away protect you. He didn't think you could take care of yourself, but if you can handle Uncle Peter, you clearly have some skill.”
Stiles made a buzzer noise. “Close, but wrong. Scott tried treating me the way he wanted to be treated. He wanted someone to give him an out on all the supernatural stuff. He wanted to be able to leave town and not feel tied down. So he gave me what he really wanted. He never asked what I wanted.”
“And I would never treat you like Scott did. You’re part of this pack.” Derek rubbed his sternum. Stiles wondered if Derek felt the bond the way Peter did. Peter always said that Stiles’s bond was like a steel rod anchoring him. Or skewering him. He had mentioned skewers once or twice.
“And I appreciate that more than you can know. But my question is, what the hell were you giving Scott back there in that meeting?”
Derek gave him a blank stare. “What?”
“Malia was talking about Scott cutting all the pack bonds. Scott was implying that he felt useless now that he's not an alpha. What were you doing?”
“Letting them discuss the options.” Derek looked confused.
God help them. Stiles had assumed that Peter was leaving him in Beacon Hills to protect him, but he was starting to suspect that Peter might be right about Derek needing some assistance with the pack. Stiles calmed his voice. “Derek, what do you know about Scott?”
“He's annoying,” Derek said. His expression had gone back to that trademark flat look that he seemed so fond of.
“True,” Stiles conceded. “But then he was always an asthmatic kid, never popular in school. He and I had each other and no one else. And then the werewolf thing happened, and that first year, our lives were pretty much about terror. We thought you were trying to kill us and we were mostly wrong. We thought the feral alpha was trying to kill us, and we were sort of right. The alpha pack tried to kill us. Jennifer tried to kill us. There is a lot of potential death in our lives. And then Scott became a true alpha, and things started to change.”
“I’m fairly sure everyone was still trying to kill you,” Derek pointed out.
“Yes, but we had a pack. We had people we could count on. It wasn't the two of us flailing through all of the shit together. It was a team. A wolf pack. Scott's alpha spark gave him the ability to create those bonds. He thinks that he wants to escape the supernatural, and maybe if he could stop being a werewolf altogether, he would. But right now, what is he thinking about if he's lost his alpha spark?”
Derek grimaced, so he got it, or at least some of it. “They told him that he was still pack. He can't be afraid of losing his pack.”
“Maybe. But the most important member in a pack is the alpha. What have you done to reassure Scott of his place?”
Derek pressed his lips together angrily before he said, “It's not my job to hold his hand.”
Stiles reached inside himself for that pack bond and jerked on it as hard as he could. Derek lunged forward and caught himself with both hands on the dashboard.
“That's what I feel from you,” Stiles said. “I feel that strong connection from you and from Peter, but all these other people who reestablish pack bonds with me—Liam and Malia and Isaac and Penny and even Celeste—they are threads. If I pulled, they would break.
“The alpha is the one who holds the pack together, and that's you.” Stiles poked a finger in Derek’s direction. “So you need to pull your head out of your ass and figure out what Scott needs. And you need to make sure that you do not pull Scott's trick of giving everyone what you think they need or giving people what you wish you could have. You want space, but don't assume that means others want the same.”
They'd reached the pizza place, and Stiles pulled into a parking space way too fast and slammed on the brakes so hard that his seatbelt locked up. He threw the Jeep into park and turned to look at Derek. “He needs his alpha, and that's you. He needs that rock-steady anchor that he can hold onto when it feels like his whole life is falling apart because the mentor that he looked at as a father figure stole something precious, and he can never get it back. Worse, his former best friend inherited all of his power, which is a kick in the teeth. He needs his alpha to weather this storm.”
“You're his best friend, not his former best friend,” Derek said.
Stiles scoffed. “I come back twice a year and play Call of Duty with him. I don't think that's best friend material.”
Derek looked at Stiles sadly. “Scott has never let anyone in the way he let you in. He holds all of the betas at arm’s length, and I thought that that was his leadership style. Maybe it was, but now that he's not the alpha, I don't know what's going to happen. You're telling me he needs his alpha, but I'm telling you he needs you to be his friend.”
Stiles blew out a breath. He had assumed Liam or Isaac had taken up his mantle, especially since Scott had been drifting away from their friendship even before Stiles moved. In the long run, Stiles wasn’t sure they were sleep-overs and secrets type best friends anymore, but if Scott needed him, he would never turn his back. Besides, other than Peter, Stiles had never let anyone else close. Sure, he liked his werewolf study buddy and he had classmates he loved to argue with and annoying Rick was always fun, but he didn’t have anyone he called a friend.
He had Peter, but he wasn’t sure what they were. They were friendly, but their relationship was too complicated to call them besties. “I can do that. I'm going to be here through the end of the semester and then it's summer so I can stay here for four or five months and help him through this. But I can't give him the kind of support an alpha can.”
Derek nodded. “I'll tell him that I need his help… that I don't know how to navigate the personalities in the pack.”
“At least it’s not a lie,” Stiles said. Derek gave him a wry grin.
Stiles continued. “And on the same note, I need to know what I can do to help you through this shit with the FBI. I'm not going to say that I regret raining hail and brimstone down on the Argents. But I regret that this has put you in the crosshairs. What can I do to help you?”
All emotion faded from Derek's face, but there was a tingle of horror and fear whispering through the pack bond. Derek stared out at the night and at the garishly lit pizza sign. “I'm fine.”
“You can't lie for shit,” Stiles said. “Look, what you need me to do? Hang around while the FBI is asking questions or disappear so you have privacy? Do you want of me to show up with beer or do you want me to send Scott so you guys can go raging through the woods and eat whatever little fluffy bunnies you run across? There are a hundred things I could do, but I don't know what you need me to do to help.” Stiles watched Derek. The man looked stoic. Borderline angry. The bond felt like broken china being crushed underfoot.
Derek sat and stared into the darkness. “I don't think they would let you stay while they questioned me.”
“They would be asking you questions as a witness, not questioning you, and in case you haven't noticed, I can be pretty damn persuasive.”
That startled a laugh out of Derek. His phone chimed, and Derek looked down at the display. “Our pizzas ready.”
“That was fast,” Stiles said. “They're probably going to give us pies that they premade and reheated.”
“Probably,” Derek said. “Do you really think the pack is going to care?”
“Not really.” Stiles open the Jeep door. “If you put cheese on it, I'm pretty sure they would eat cardboard.”
“When melted cheese has leaked onto the pizza box, I'm fairly sure they have eaten cardboard,” Derek countered.
Stiles grinned at him before getting out of the Jeep and heading towards the pizza place, and Derek followed. Maybe if he had someone to point out when he was making mistakes, Derek could make it work this time. Peter was certainly a better alpha the second time around. And maybe Stiles would stick around to make sure he didn’t fuck up too badly. After this semester, he only needed sixteen credit hours to finish his Bachelor’s, and he could get a bunch of those classes online.
Stiles heart ached because he hated thinking about moving back to California when Peter was in Virginia. He wouldn’t abandon one Hale for another, but he was starting to think he needed to figure out how to support both of them.