Rescue

by Little_Bites

Summary:

When the cards are down, WHY do you trust?

Hale spark. New true alpha. Mythological creatures. Loyalties challenged and changed.

One rescue turned many with a fox in the hen house and a Darach to boot.

Notes:

First couple chapters have a bit of editing from @FrozenAdventures. There are time jumps. The jumps are not as bad as in the first.

Chapter 1: Starting Point

Four months after Stiles was released from the Hospital, Stiles’ bedroom…

Stiles laid there, awake but unmoving in his bed while keeping his breathing slow as if he were still sleeping. He wore baggy dark sweats and a loose black t-shirt. He wore his metaphoric armor of clothes even with some of his wolves present. He still did not want the others to see his scars, ask about them. Stiles knew it would be well intended, but he just couldn’t do it—some burdens were too heavy to give voice to let alone share.

Peter was curled tightly to his right side in dark sweats and a white v-neck shirt. Both items of clothing were hugging Peter in all the right places as far as Stiles could tell. Then again, the man could probably pull just about anything off as far as Stiles could tell.

At that thought, Stiles rolled his eyes at himself. Thinking about Peter as anything other than a pack mate felt weird. As it was, Stiles wasn’t even sure he wanted anyone in an even slightly sexual way. Honestly, Stiles wasn’t completely sure he was in a place right now to even consider such a thing too seriously as he had a pack that included a sketchy member (Deaton) and two rival packs in town.

Stopping himself from rolling his shoulders, Stiles did let his mind wonder over the pack situation in town. There was Scott’s pack that as far as they knew was just Scott and Theo really. However, Scott had been led to assume Deaton was in his pack by omission even though Deaton was a beta of Stiles’ pack. Then there was Derek’s pack that as far as they knew was Derek, Issac, and Adrian. At the same time though, Derek had been led to believe through omission that Boyd and Erica were in his pack despite their being in Stiles’ pack.

Having spies in both rival packs in the town whose Nemeton he had in a way claimed, Stiles knew he was in a better position than he could be in. however, with that thought, Stiles still knew that Theo, especially, was dangerous and that regardless of the current situation, having other Alpha werewolves in his territory was not a good thing long term. Hopefully Stiles could find a peaceful way for him and Derek to continue to work together even if only as some weak human, like Derek still believed him to be.

And Scott’s pack? Well, Stiles knew a trap of a situation if ever he saw one. Scott himself was dangerous as it was with an Alpha spark let alone with someone like who Theo seemed to be being antagonizing the young Alpha.

Regardless, right now, the best he could do was to keep his eyes and ears open while not exposing any possible weaknesses to the two other packs and keeping Deaton at arm’s reach. Even as his beta, Stiles knew to be careful of Deaton. The man was quiet with all his cards hidden. Stiles was willing to have him in the pack but wanted to wait the ex-druid out to see what the man was up to.

Unable to stop himself, Stiles rolled his eyes at himself. Getting himself all wound up at the start of the day over things he neither controlled nor could change so early in the morning, Stiles mentally tried to keep his breath sleep-shallow while imagining literally wiping his mind clean with a rag as though it were a dry erase board. Once he had completed the task, he tried focusing on the physical rather than the unknown.

Erica was laid out over Stiles: belly to belly at an angle. She had her arms and legs both hanging partially off the bed on opposite sides. She was in a huge bedtime t-shirt that was light blue and about at her knees in length. She covered both of their soft spots even in sleep: a lasting response to shared trauma.

Stiles could not deny that her position gave him comfort: his squishy innards were protected. Who could argue that? Well, he could, but he was not willing to open that door. It led to ways he could be hurt, but more concerning is that it led to all the times he had already been hurt.

Running his free hand softly over Erica’s curls, Stiles found his mind still wandering. It was too early to get up. There wasn’t even light out yet. However, the two wolves sleeping with him were thoroughly worn out from their night of food, music fights, and researching. Who knew researching could wear one out this much? It blew his mind how much it wore them all out sometimes, but he was still the one who struggled to both fall and stay asleep.

Stiles’ “accidental” mis-dosing his own Adderall also kept him awake; however, so many nights and days it was that or spine-ripping levels of emotional and physical pain through memories in his sleep. For better or worse, his sleep was the one place he could not keep out things that had happened to him. He didn’t want to remember, but no matter how hard he tried or how many times he had been beaten, Stiles still had his memories intact. It was like the world’s pound of flesh owed in exchange for his continued survival.

The nightmares were better now, with his never having to sleep alone anymore, but they were still there. The worst of them seemed to wait to pop up until he was his weakest. Sadly, his weakest was a common mental state. Not as much as before, but some realities never died.

Stiles ran his left hand gently over his cheek. He could still remember. He could remember his Mother’s last kind touch to his skin. She stroked his cheek softly, in a rare moment of clarity, and told him that she wished she could be there for him longer. He had cried at the time. At the age of seven, he got the last voluntary kind touch he had up until Scott.

Scott’s touch was neither rare nor common. It was like waves coming in erratically, but still coming in until Allison. Scott was a friend, a bro. They touched as much as male friends did really. It was at least more than his father touched him, hugged him.

Stiles knew touch where he reached out and touched. It was hard at times to have an excuse for it though. Helping his whiskey-drunk father to bed, Stiles then took off the man’s shoes and took away the empty bottles. He knew those days well. Then there were the days after his father sobered up. The occasional touch. The on-a-holiday levels of touch.

God, Stiles missed when his Mom was alive. Not only did she touch him, but his father did too. They were a happy family. They hugged, laughed, and just spent so much time together happily.

Stiles barely kept himself steady, not wanting to put off scents of distress and wake the wolves in his bed. He wanted to hold onto this longer, hold onto touch freely given and taken. It was one of the benefits to his research on wolves months ago. It provided permission to touch, to be touched. They needed it too. They could all need and have it together.

Stiles sighed at himself. Every time he began to miss his Mom and touch, it also brought him back to when she was hurting him, when others hurt him.

Unwilling to let himself slip into the pains of the past, Stiles began to move, slowly slipping himself free of Erica and Peter. He needed to get his mind on something else. As a result, he opted to get up and get started on breakfast. Maybe he’d even make some lunches. At the very least, he could get his mind together enough to keep his painful memories to himself for another day as well as take some Adderall to keep himself awake to hold him over until his daily run with Erica and Boyd.

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Lunch at Beacon High…

On the bleachers by the cross-country track, Stiles and his pack were gathered to “study” for lunch period and then their open period. The whole pack managed to get the same free period, except for Erica. She had a free period that intersected, but not the same whole period. Erica had a partial period with the school nurse checking in on her. Erica’s parents were concerned with her lack of seizures that it could lead to something different, maybe bigger happening to her. As a result, Erica not only had to see the nurse during school but had regular doctor checkups just to make sure she was okay.

The whole group present were clustered across three levels of the bleachers in a clump of books, food, and texting. The texting was with their members who did not still have to go to high school: Deaton and Peter. Well, and sometimes the Sheriff as Stiles had promised his Dad to keep him in the loop. Stiles kept that promise—for the most part. It’s hard to trust the man who blew off his effort to come out and considered Stiles’ true friends a threat up until very recently.

After rubbing his jittery hands over his face, Stiles wiped the sweat on his hands on his loose denim jeans and then on his baggy red t-shirt. He then shook out his hands and arms to his sides as if his Adderall withdrawal would be so easily flung off him. He couldn’t help that he forgot to take his meds after breakfast that morning in his efforts to care for his pack and his Dad let alone his less than pleasant memories the morning had tried to take him to. Stiles’ first dose of the day was too early, but the second dose and the pills were forgotten at his house.

In his jeans, t-shirt with a blue open flannel over it, sneakers, and dark purple bags under his eyes, Stiles had a spellbook open on his lap that was written in Latin with sticky notes of translations on sections in the book. Stiles took a deep breath before picking his phone back up off his lap and checking Peter and Deaton’s texts. “Okay, Deaton says it may be possible to kick start Issac’s healing. I think that should be our number one concern in the foreseeable future. I think we cannot leave him possibly stuck in his own mind as Peter had been. We don’t need more crazy wolves running loose. Also, Peter thinks he may have a lead on some of the spell components we may need.”

Lydia, in her form-fitting medium blue three-quarter sleeve shirt and sleek green jeans, watched Stiles. She had her physics textbook open on her lap with a pen resting in the break between pages. Under the textbook was her open notebook. Not alarmed at all, Lydia was mild about Stiles’ actions as she had grown more than used to the odd ways of the teen Alpha. However, she did notice the withdrawal symptoms. She made a mental note to get Stiles some coffee after class to help him mellow out.

Next to Lydia with their legs touching, Allison wore denim jean capris, purple tennis shoes, a white blouse under a light blue v-neck sweater, and a long chain necklace with an opal stone pendant. Her hair was loose and tucked behind her ears. She was texting up a storm. Her Dad had become a bit overprotective since the fight in the preserve months before.

It did not hurt that Stiles never told Chris Argent the whole story of what had happened between them, Scott’s pack, Derek’s pack, and the witches. Stiles didn’t trust Argent any further than he could spit. Not that he made a habit of spitting. The only Argent Stiles trusted was Ally. The rest so far just left a sour taste in his brain.

“Stiles, we need to be careful. Dad’s saying he’s hearing rumors about a Nogitsune in the area. I think he’s worried any large supernatural acts would draw its attention,” Allison said as she looked to Stiles’ with a smile hinting at being in on the nogitsune situation.

The whole pack knew about Peter carrying the nogitsune within him. It was their little secret. The only pack member who did not know was Deaton. Although he was a wolf and in Stiles’ pack, trust was still hard won. They were in no rush to accidentally or on purpose follow down Scott’s trail of over-trusting the man.

With a sigh, Stiles set his phone down and shook out his arms again. “Yeah, I’ll make sure to remind Peter to keep things on the downlow.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Keeping a secret is his primary skill alongside finding a secret. I doubt that’s where the rumor came from.”

Stiles shrugged. “Good point.”

Even though Scott nor Theo had made any move to interact with any of them so far, Boyd watched for them nonetheless. He wore black jeans, black sneakers, and a gray t-shirt. The young wolf had a notebook open on his lap and a pen in his hand; however, he was not writing anything down. Instead, Boyd was listening and watching. He had remained on hyper alert since Stiles had nearly died in the witch battle in the preserve. Boyd refused to risk anyone in the pack being hurt again, let alone his Alpha.

Allison then sighed, still texting. “He really wants to know what you are up to as well as the wolfs. At least he hasn’t figured out you have a pack yet.”

Nodding, Stiles sent a text to update Peter, then leaned a bit on Boyd while running a hand down the wolf’s arm. “Thankfully, so far no one knows. Well, except Dad.”

With a giggle, Allison took a pause from texting.

Lydia sighed. “Okay, back to what we were talking about. So, healing Issac may be something doable. Do we have a game plan for how to get around Derek and the pack of lost puppies?”

Boyd smiled at Lydia’s description of Scott’s pack. His smile stayed on a beat or two longer than normal as he took out his own phone and texted too.

Lydia tilted her head faintly to the side, checking her phone as she felt it go off. She then looked to Stiles.

The young alpha perked his brow as he read Boyd’s text:

Someone is watching. Not sure who, but I feel the eyes on us.

Having seen it was a group text, Stiles responded:

Be calm. Act like we don’t know.

Lydia scoffed at Stiles of all people saying to be calm while fighting his own jittery issues.

Just after Lydia scoffed, they all heard running toward them punctuated by giggles.

Before most of them could look to see who it was despite recognizing the giggles, Erica had thrust herself onto the bleachers, rushing to join the others. In a red plaid mini skirt, knee-high black leather boots, and a tight, blue button-down blouse with her hair flowing loose, Erica hugged Stiles once she got to him. She nearly rumbled like a purr when he rubbed her back while hugging.

Stiles knew he would never get over Erica hugs. She hugged with all her being and body like it was both the first and last time they had or would ever hug. It, to Stiles, was a series of ‘I love you’s and a promise that if he went missing that she would come for him. She would fight by his side for him as he would for her. each hug meant more words in a breath than a hug really ever had in the sparse times he had received them before he had a pack.

When the two broke apart, Erica then plopped down on Lydia’s other side from Allison with a huge grin. “So, saw Theo today.”

Sitting down, Stiles took a calming breath. “Anything that matters to us?”

Erica shrugged. “Not sure. He may be more pissed than normal today. I guess his grades aren’t so great.”

Thinking, Stiles ran a hand through his hair. He knew this could spell trouble, especially with his suspicion of Theo. Stiles may have known the boy when they were younger, but the person wearing Theo’s face was not the boy who had played with Stiles when they were younger. Something was different. He couldn’t put his finger on the exact why, but he was perfectly okay with not finding out and keeping his distance.

Stiles believed the changes had to be more than a response to their shared trauma, but he hesitated to vocalize that as whatever happened to Theo was best kept at a distance for now. He’d not really seen or interacted with the boy since the preserve. Before that, Stiles had been busy with the things happening around him and to his remaining friends. Or as Peter had already considered it, his pack.

Rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension building from his thoughts generally and even remotely brushing his thoughts against past trauma, Stiles cleared his throat then sighed. “Okay, I’ll talk to Deaton. Let’s give Theo space as we have been between classes, but also really keep an ear out. If he’s angry, Theo could give something away that we don’t already know.”

As he spoke, Stiles also had re-begun texting again. He wanted to update Deaton and Peter though more the later than the former. He really wanted to keep the whole group on mostly the same page and safe.

Still texting, Stiles looked around at everyone there. “Anyone in classes with Theo? Or with a locker in sight of his?”

Erica shrugged. “Not that I’ve noticed, but math is kicking my ass. So, if I have a class with him, it’d be that one, especially as I was added in after we had done our schedule go over as a pack. Honestly, bigfoot could be in the class and I doubt I’d notice.”

Stiles nodded.

Everyone else in the group did some form of a shrug in response to Stiles’ question.

Nodding again, Stile continued to text. “Okay, Erica, I’d like you to take a solid look around of your class today. If anything gets missed in class, we’ll address it while we’re all doing homework later. I want us to be as ready as possible for any trouble that could come. The same goes for everyone today and tomorrow in cause Theo’s classes have changed. I want to re-confirm if our schedule still works.”

Lydia looked at her phone. “Trouble or not, we’d better get going.”

The whole group gathered their things and headed back into the high school for their respective classes.

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Erica had a bit of a bounce in her step as she left the pack to head for class. She felt a thrill running through her. Her Alpha had given her a job. She suspected she should feel weird about it, but somehow helping Stiles since Gerard’s basement just felt right. They’d suffered, been stripped down through torture together.

She had never had an abundance of respect for the human. He was just another face. He was one more person who she had always assumed saw her as sick, as broken somehow. He was a face among the sea of them. She didn’t respect any of them even when her social needs demanded fitting in. her mind cried out for friends, for belonging. She thought she was alone in that.

However, with Stiles, in Gerard basement? It forced her to see that she was not the only one reaching out, seeking belonging. The human took the torture, took the pain but did not give up his humanity. If anything, the torture when paired with people’s responses after? She felt so connected to him, in both the basement of hell itself as well as the crash to earth that was being back out.

She watched his struggle and saw herself in it. She saw the damage to her life of her seizures in his ways, in all the things he never said. Erica did not know who or what hurt him before Gerard, what his “seizures” were, but she knew they were kindred spirits. He had seen the dark places she had, or ones just like them.

Erica felt connected to Stiles the person while her wolf was connected to Stiles the Alpha. No, he was not connected to her wolf as an Alpha but as HER Alpha.

She couldn’t deny that even though Stiles was human, he had a lot of qualities that Derek had explained as wolf traits: loyalty, physical comfort, even a strong level of protection. There were other qualities too, but these were the ones that stuck in her mind due to their connection to Stiles.

Erica couldn’t help but wonder sometimes if this was how Stiles had always been or if he was forged by something. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew there were deeper, darker shadows in her Alpha than he showed. Unlike with others, Stiles’ intrigued her, made her even seek to protect those dark places.

She would never forget his belief about werewolves and his father: it wasn’t his secret to tell. Even when it cost him, Stiles would not bend OR break so far as she had seen. Somewhere inside, Erica knew there had to be a limit. There just had to be. If or when that day came, Erica was sure she had to be there for him yet also feared for others with what he could do.

Still with a bounce in her step, Erica walked into the dreaded class of her nightmares: math. However, after taking a seat, she noticed that the teacher wasn’t there at the front of class with their ‘80s era thick glasses and odd love of draping themself in heavy browns. Erica took a cursory scan of the room. In her scan, Erica learned two things: Theo was indeed in class with her and the teacher was nowhere in the room.

As a result of that, Erica took her phone out to subtly hold it one-handed beneath her desk. She kept her body in false relaxation with one arm hung over her desk chair.

After a few minutes, the Principal in all his gray-haired glory entered the classroom. Alongside the Principal was a dark-haired, demure woman. She wore a black button-down shirt, a dark-colored pencil skirt, tights, and ballet flats. Her hair was partially pulled up, leaving some still hanging long.

The Principal, a man in his forties wearing brown slacks with a white button-down shirt, stood at the front of the classroom. “Due to unforeseen circumstances, your math class this quarter has been changed to another English period.”

After a moment of silence, the Principal slid his hands into his pockets. “This quarter, also due to unforeseen circumstances, English is being taught by a substitute: Ms. Blake.”

As the Principal motioned to the dark-haired woman, she stepped forward to take over. “Hello, I’m Ms. Blake.”

Once Ms. Blake began speaking, the Principal left the room.

Ms. Blake moved to the chalk board to write out her name on it.

Erica tilted her head just slightly to the left as to fully take in the woman. While the woman was writing on the board, Erica texted Stiles under her desk to let him know about the change. While such things could be for innocent reasons that are no big deal, the opposite could also be the case.

She also included in a follow up text that warned her Alpha that Theo was indeed in her class. Despite earlier, Theo made no noises of relief or otherwise. She felt like she had a serial killer at her back. At least now she knew he was there. She felt a small smile forming at knowing she was safer knowing than she had been before.

Making a mental note to ask about options to keep the crazed boy busy so she could focus on class, Erica slipped her phone back into her pocket before pulling a piece of gum out to pop in her mouth.

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Entering their History class, Stiles and Lydia immediately saw the history teacher, Mr. Yukimura at the front of the class writing out dates on the board with arrows between them.

The man was of average height with jet black short hair, tan slacks, white button-down shirt, and a plaid blue tie of medium width. He was impeccably straight lines with an almost infectious love of history. The man knew tons of information to the point it was a wonder he taught High School history rather than college. However, he was in Beacon High no less.

Stiles smiled, excited for the class content, and dutifully moved to sit in the right corner seat in the back row of class. He did not look to see who took a seat beside him as he and Lydia had already agreed it would be her since Scott was in this class too.

Sadly, Scott was not in the loop about the plan.

Noting the lack of attitude-aura beside him, Stiles turned his head to find Scott sitting beside him. Wearing dark jeans, a red t-shirt, and sneakers with recently shorn hair, Scott had a lop-sided smile as he looked around the room. He did not seem happy for this class, but it was hard to say with Scott. At the very least, the teen wolf seemed on edge.

Stiles sometimes wondered if Scott’s smile was his default expression when not confused. Meanwhile, he was barely able to keep his growl of displeasure to himself at the unwelcome closeness to Scott. However, Stiles saw Lydia coming hard like a steamroller at Scott.

He was not at all aware of anything coming, let alone it being a badass Lydia Martin on a war path.

Lydia stood right in front of Scott with her arms crossed over her chest. “Excuse me, I was sitting there.”

Scott looked up to her like a little puppy thoroughly confused. He then spoke, starting in a rush before truly separating his words with a somehow threatening tone as an undercurrent through every word: “Noyouweren’t. I always sit next to my best friend, right Stiles?”

Before Stiles could even attempt any form of answer or fully consider questioning the strange voice tone, Scott’s attention visibly shifted to the beautiful girl with long black hair who just walked into the classroom. Scott looked to Stiles with the tilt of his head in question as if he had not just been claiming to be Stiles’ best friend who he always sat by while strangely flashing his red Alpha eyes at the fellow teen.

Understanding, Stiles motioned for Scott to go on even as he perked a brow at the flash of red eyes. Why fight it when Stiles didn’t want to sit next to Scott anyways? Plus, the flashing of red was never a good sign.

Scott rushed from his seat fast enough to nearly knock over his chair just as the girl sat down at a desk. He made his way to sit right beside her with an adoring smile melting his face as he turned to look at her.

Th girl had not yet noticed Scott, instead setting her notebook and writing implements on her desk. She then took a moment to get comfortable it seemed.

The girl in question appeared to be cut right from a magazine with her flawless light olive skin, long dark hair, lithe body, and brown eyes. She wore skinny jeans as well as a black and white stripped long-sleeve shirt with a slim chain necklace with a single, blue pendant upon it.

Lydia then proceeded to take her seat beside Stiles while rolling her eyes at Scott.

Stiles could not help but be frustrated. Did Scott really think so little of him as to repeat history? In history class of all places? He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. He had already written Scott off as a friend, but somehow this all still hurt. Not only did Scott still not figure out that they’re not friends anymore but continued the messed-up behavior that contributed to their friendship being destroyed.

Even outside of the ghost pains he still felt for the friendship they’d not really had since Scott had gotten the bite, Stiles was concerned with why the young alpha was flashing his eyes and speaking like even normal words may be threats. It was not normal to say the least. Plus, they’d not spoken in months. What could have changed so starkly in the time apart?

Regardless, Stiles leaned toward Lydia and whispered. “New girl?”

Rolling her eyes, Lydia got a bit more comfortable sitting at her desk. “Yes, and she already has a stalker. How fun.”

Nodding, Stiles returned his attentions back to the front of the room briefly before scribbling a note and slipping it to Lydia, muttering to himself. “Can’t help but feel bad for her.”

Chapter 2: Help

Summary:

New opportunities.

Notes:

*Trigger Warning* for abduction

About an hour after school and lacrosse practice were over…

Scott paced along the edges of the tall trees and shrubbery of the preserve. It was hard to describe Scott’s connection to the preserve. It was where he had been bitten by Peter and all this supernatural stuff became part of his reality. It had been a while since then yet felt more like seconds ago or eons. Time was strange like that. Regardless, he was waiting for Theo. The other boy was to meet him here along with Jackson: they had a pack to rebuild after Derek had splintered them.

Beyond ready to re-assemble his pack, Scott found himself also wandering to thoughts of the new girl. Her dark hair, her eyes, her everything where on repeat in Scott’s mind like a video he never wanted to stop watching. He found himself debating if he should try to figure out her address before or after he asked her out. Scott was certain she would say yes. Why wouldn’t she? He was a good, honorable guy.

However, Scott reminded himself that he was indeed still supposed to be thinking about what he’d say to Jackson when Theo brought their teammate. He shrugged at himself.

No sooner had Scott thought of the other boy than an old beat-up gray civic drove up, parking on the edge of the road nearest the preserve. Seconds after the car’s engine was shut off, Theo stepped out of the car with a Cheshire grin. The boy wore jeans, a white t-shirt with a black polo pulled over it, and sneakers. He appeared freshly bathed and coffee bright.

Scott growled in frustration. “Where’s Jackson?”

Looking like the cat that ate the whole canary family, Theo popped open the trunk of the civic to reveal a pissed off Jackson tied up tight inside.

Jackson wore now-stained white slacks, expensive brown leather shoes, and an olive sweater vest over a once-white button down. The wolf was livid. He was thrashing within the trunk but seemed much weaker than normal—close to human levels.

Scot growled, “What the fuck?! I told you to convince him to come. I didn’t say abduct him!”

Theo shrugged. “He refused my most charming efforts to convince him to join us of his own free will. That didn’t work. He was a total dick, so I knocked him out and got him trussed up like this. I used a Wolf’s Bane laced sedative. It worked like a charm, by the way.”

Scott just stared at Theo for a moment. “Where did you even get something like that?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “How do you think the coven that came through a couple months ago was able to detain Peter for any length of time?”

“How many of them do you have?”

“I don’t know. A couple dozen?” Theo responded with a grin and shrug, “They are pretty handy and didn’t want to risk the wrong people getting ahold of them. Just imagine Derek or Stiles with them.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, don’t need Stiles accidentally poisoning himself or something. Plus, Derek is dangerous already. Guess that was the right call, but we still have Jackson. You should let him loose.”

Theo frowned, roughly yanking Jackson out of the trunk. “You know, maybe we should deal with Jackson in a final sense? No point in us getting in trouble over him.”

Shaking his head, Scott straightened up. “No. We’ll try later to clean it all up. Just let him loose. You hear that Jackson? No hard feelings, right?”

Once Theo had cut him loose, Jackson was quick if uncoordinated in getting himself straightened up. He then growled, moving aggressively toward Scott. “Fuck you, Scott—was the lack of contact not message en—”

Theo punched Jackson hard enough for him to drop like a sack of potatoes. “This is why you don’t let people loose, or if you do, you make sure to not be in range.”

Jackson on the ground and Theo grinning again: not how Scott had imagined this going. He ran a hand threw his own hair thinking about what to do. His initial plan of convincing Jackson to forgive, forget, and join back up with his pack was not working out. Scott had to admit, if only to himself, that sometimes his plans sucked.

After looking around, Scott sighed and got into the passenger side of the civic. He knew Theo would follow, so didn’t worry about that part. Then it came to Scott that he knew someone whose plans did not always suck: Stiles. Since the fake Deaton was no more and possibly a liar, maybe it would be a good idea to bring up to the real Deaton the idea of turning Stiles and or just hanging out with him again. He could use a good planner available to him for things like building his pack back up again. Maybe Stiles could even help him get the new girl to date him?

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In Stiles’ back yard…

Allison stood with loose limbs holding one of the Stilinskis’ larger kitchen knives with the blade pointing toward Erica. Ally was waiting.

Across from her by about five feet, Erica stood in plaid blue-green pajama pants, a cotton black t-shirt, no shoes, and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Erica too was holding one of the Stilinskis’ larger kitchen knives with the blade pointing down. She was staring dangers into the young hunter.

Lydia sat in one of the Stilinskis’ law chairs as she leaned over to Stiles. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Sitting cross-legged on the grass, Stiles looked to Lydia. “It’s important to learn how to fight with more than claws. Plus, Ally-cat knows a lot more weapons than most of us. And you never know when you will need knife skills.”

Lydia shrugged, returning her attention to the text in her lap. While all the continued practice with her abilities did help, she continued to explore as many routes as she could to learn more about what she was. It didn’t hurt that her research into Banshees was sometimes intersected with Stiles’ efforts, on the downlow, to work out his mother’s message to him months ago of all things coming in threes.

She waited for Stiles’ attention to move away from her so that she could watch her beautiful girlfriend. Stiles was fine with them being together, but it didn’t take much for him and Lydia to get lost together in magical topics of conversation. Watching Ally was more interesting right this moment when compared to reading and translating Latin.

It was so funny where all of them were now. Nine months ago, Lydia wouldn’t waste a single breath on any one of them but Ally. Even then, Lydia was still playing dumb. She was still dating Jackson. Even though she would be moving toward what ended up happening, Lydia cheating on Jackson with Allison, but still. She never would have guessed this.

Lydia never would have believed that in so little time, that she would’ve come to consider Stiles a close friend, someone reliable that sought to help her in any way he could. He was willing to put his life on the line to save his friends. Look at all he had done for Scott after the idiot was first turned. God, just thinking about having kissed Scott still made her want to gag. She shook her head at herself. She had been so dumb, so out of touch with the important things back then.

Even though she didn’t know everything, Lydia had gotten out of Stiles that he had been tortured by Gerard as well as the parts of that night she didn’t even know about before. Stiles got her to Jackson in time to save his life. She even suspected that Stiles remained accepting of Jackson after things with the Kanima was for her.

Lydia could not even count the little ways and moments he had supported her, and how he never believed she was dumb no matter how many people fell for it.

Hell, how he without question accepted her being with Allison, even after Ally’s role in Gerard and Kate’s games. While Lydia’s Mom was still struggling with the realization, Stiles took Lydia loving Allison like things were business as usual. Stiles did not even judge when they were cheating on their respective boyfriends. He did encourage both girls to just be together without cheating, but Stiles never truly pressured or in any way forced them to do what he thought was best.

Even once Lydia and Allison were together officially in the open, Stiles tolerated no jokes at their expense or anything like it. He had not only accepted them being together, but also Stiles brought both girls into his pack as well.

Stiles’ loyalty was never a question. Although she suspected he had been burned in the past for it, Lydia knew he was there for his pack and Dad.

She smiled to herself at how that included her and Ally. It was just one cuddly blanket of angsty insanity. Lydia doubted she would change it for the world. Not that she would say that aloud.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Seeing that Lydia was returning to her reading, Stiles turned his attention to Allison and Erica. “Okay, the goal is learning, not bleeding.”

Stiles smiled at all the members of his pack present and how everyone seemed to feel comfortable post-school just hanging around wearing whatever. He could not deny how much he liked having them all over as much as he possibly could. He wanted his pack to be a family, a haven, and a respite from being alone. He knew he should probably be researching magic right this moment, but instead, he watched Allison and Erica. He soaked in having part of his chosen family right here and relatively safe. He soaked in him not being alone.

Allison held her knife in her hand, blade pointed toward Erica. “Okay, this is the best way to hold a knife in a fight. A lot of the other options are for show, Hollywood in a sense. Like this, I can in one smooth motion slide the knife into anyone within my wingspan.”

Erica asked, “But wouldn’t how I have it work just fine for stabbing hack and slash style?”

Shaking her head, Allison said, “No. Too many moves, motions to get it into someone. Also, what you have is better for when you have someone on the ground and are stabbing them from that position. But standing, this is best.

Erica shifted her hold on the knife to have the blade facing forward like Ally’s.

Stiles’ entire attention quickly shifted. He felt his phone vibrating. He checked his phone, finding a text from Scott:

Hey bro, want to come hang out?

Lydia looked over to Stiles. “Who’s the text from?”

Stiles frowned. “Scott. He wants to hang out.”

Tilting her head slightly, she asked, “Has he been texting you?”

“No. I’ve not really heard anything from him for months other than what you saw earlier.”

Just then, Peter dropped down from a neighbor’s tree that partially hung over the Stilinski backyard. In tight black jeans, a burgundy v-neck shirt, black leather shoes, and stylishly coiffed hair, Peter moved to Stiles. He then ran a gentle hand over the boy’s shoulders. “Two Alphas seem to be heading our way, likely from the Alpha pack.”

Tensing, Stiles looked up to Peter. “any idea what they want?”

Shaking his head, Peter spoke—“Not sure.”

Stiles sighed, setting aside his phone while moving to stand up. Once up, Stiles ran a hand down Peter’s right arm, saying, “Erica, Allison, need to call it for today.”

As he looked to them, Stiles saw that Allison had Erica by the hair and neck but was already gently releasing the wolf. He could not help but chuckle, adding, “Not so easy to play at human level with the rest of us, Catwoman, is it?”

Erica growled as she was released, but then grinned. “Well, have to be reminded how fragile you are or you could get hurt, Batman.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, laughing. “Seriously? You say that, but we both know you don’t mean it. You’re just sad that the extra time off from ditching the last two periods is being encroached on.”

Erica giggled.

Allison did too as she walked over to Lydia and gave her a peck on the forehead.

Stiles then shook his head at them all. “Well, as you heard, fun time is over. It’s time to move on to homework, for that innocent look.”

Erica groaned, but still helped Lydia and Stiles gather up their books.

Allison grabbed up her own things and the knives.

Peter opened the back door for them all to get inside with full hands.

Less than fifteen minutes later things were put away in the items’ respective homes and or backpacks. Additionally, everyone was in position doing homework and bearing that air of innocence.

Allison was sitting in the Livingroom on the lazy boy chair with her legs over one arm rest while her back was propped up against the other. She was “conveniently” placed to see both the front and back doors. She currently had out her British Middle Ages History textbook opened to the chapter assigned and leaned against her legs. Beside while partially on the text was her notebook for notes on the chapter and her cell phone that had her Dad on speed dial if needed. Subtly, she had four sharp knives with Wolf’s Bane under her book as well as her bow and a quiver within reach beside her on the side away from the door.

Erica was sitting at the dining room table beside and to the right of Lydia. They had out Erica’s algebra textbook as well as her homework worksheets. Lydia was going through the homework with Erica, helping her as necessary while at the same time at an angle that both allowed her to scream if things got really bad and or for Erica to get her out if Stiles ordered it.

Lydia’s homework was stacked in a pile to her left. She had not brought everything but figured between researching Banshees and dark fey overall, she could work on her English essay on Robert Frost. But first, she was helping Erica. Between the book stack and her was a set of knives that she and Erica had been working on using. More important though was her phone that had Stiles’ Dad and Boyd on speed dial among others.

Stiles was sitting on his kitchen counter beside the oven. He’d thrown some leftover cookie dough onto some baking sheets and slid them into the oven while it was still pre-heating. He figured the scent of ginger and butterscotch cookies would serve as a possible distraction and way to ease the potential incoming aggression. He had a suspicion about why two Alphas would suddenly be heading his way, and he did not want to have to become violent, especially in his own home.

He'd set a timer for when the cookies should be done while reasoning out within his own mind if this was going to a threat toward him due to his connection to both known packs in town or if somehow they sought his help because they discovered he’s an Alpha. Neither of the likely options boded well for them but there was no use in his mind of calling a chicken a dog until he got to have a look at it. While the cookies were baking, he simply sat on the counter to wait and see if the Alphas were going to show up as well as how and or if they would enter. Who knew? Maybe they’d get some of that art Derek had gotten wherein he was somehow getting through life without knowing doors are for knocking and windows are not for entering.

Peter stood beside Stiles on the non-oven end, reading what appeared to be a historical mystery paperback. He was reading quite leisurely as he did not turn the pages notably quickly or slowly. The older wolf appeared to be trying to help the others be calm by playing things like everything was okay.

Stiles knew better in seeing that one of Peter’s eyes was black and one his normal blue. The man clearly was concerned about their pack being able to take on two experienced Alphas without time to prepare fully if such a thing even existed.

As if the universe had heard his desire for civility in Stiles and Peter’s likely wound tight concern, a brisk knock on the front door resounded through the home.

Stiles hoped up, launching himself off the counter. Next, he went to go open the door, only for Peter to physically stop him.

After shaking his head no at Stiles, Peter set aside his book and then went to answer the door.

As expected, it was two teen Alphas—twins.

Peter had not opened the door enough to allow the twins to see in. Instead, Peter kept only himself within line of sight. “Well, what brings two strapping boys to my door?”

The slightly broader twin growled deep enough to cause the door to rattle a bit. Before he could do more, the slightly leaner one put a hand on his twin’s shoulder. “We are here seeking help. We’re not looking for trouble.”

Peter perked a brow. “And what made you think I could help?”

The broader one growled again. “Not you, old man. Your Alpha.”

Stiles sighed, trying to see the positivity in the potential for not having an all-out brawl. “Peter, please, let them in.”

Notes:

Comments and kudos feed my plot bunnies <3

Chapter 3: New People

Summary:

Peter. Old habits die hard. Feeding a fox. More Alphas.

When Stiles left for school that morning, Peter also left. In slim, muscle-hugging black jeans, a burgundy v-neck shirt, and expensive brown leather shoes and stylishly coifed hair, he walked to the Beacon Memorial hospital.

All through the walk, Peter and the dark kitsune spoke within his mind.

Peter started them off with a question:

‘Remind me, how old are you?’

‘Over one thousand. Greatest regret?’

Peter chuckled. He knew the game well. He knew the kitsune knew the answer already but fed on the pain Peter felt when thinking about the answer to that question. Having already opened himself up fully to the kitsune in his bid to keep his sanity when he regained some semblance of sense upon being healed. An Alpha Spark and a kitsune were a lot to hold in one body.

Now, having given his Alpha spark to Stiles to save him four months ago, things were different, but in a way, things were still very high stress. He had a new pack. His Alpha was human. There was not only a LOT of protection necessary, but Peter was in a position he was not used to: being the Right Hand. However, the thought processes and skills developed for having been a Left Hand did not suddenly disappear.

Furthermore, Peter could not help but have trauma-based unseen burn marks from when his whole family had been burned alive. He could not help but worry that this new pack would be temporary if he was not at his best, doing everything he could to not repeat past mistakes. He had to do everything he could, have every card in his pocket that he could to keep this young pack safe. Peter could not bear losing another pack. He just couldn’t. While he quietly feared not being enough to save this pack, Peter also knew he wouldn’t survive losing a whole pack again. As a result of this, he was still home to a dark kitsune that poked at all his painful spots. As it was, they played this often to kill time and rehash Peter’s pain to feed the kitsune.

The pair’s unspoken deal was loyalty up to, and including, the point by which they mutually benefited. Both the wolf and the fox had needs and desires, each allowing some compromise in exchange for those wants and needs.

For his end, Peter gained the dark kitsune’s cooperation in saving Stiles without Peter having to ask or demand, the fox just knew. All the things Peter did not have to say in those desperate moments helped instill an interest in further cooperation with the kitsune just as the wolf’s willingness to feed the fox caused the same. Additionally, the fox continued to help protect Peter’s pack: it was Peter’s lifeline that could not be crossed.

However, Peter was one hundred percent open mentally, but not physically. The fox, on the other hand, was one hundred percent physically open, but never mentally. As such they played this game. It allowed feeding for the fox and knowledge for Peter.

‘Killing Laura. I’ll never stop wishing there had been another way or that somehow, I could’ve held myself together better.’ After speaking and swallowing some of his sadness enough to continue, Peter now had his turn. ‘What kind of kitsune are you?’

‘Interesting. Why did you not ask this sooner?’

Peter chuckled again. ‘Tsk, tsk. Answer for an answer. You first, Trickster.’

‘Void.’

‘Hmm. My reason, at first, was Stiles’ well-being. But after that? Too busy helping Stiles with the pack. I was a Left hand of an Alpha rather than a traditional beta for a long time. It’s taking some adjustment to my position in this pack. I never expected to be a second, let alone a second and a partial Alpha in terms of experience. This pack is not quite normal.’

As the kitsune fed on the pain and strife within Peter at the thought of Talia and the Hale pack that their conversations often brought up, Peter was within sight of the hospital.

‘Why were you beneath the Nemeton before being brought into me?’

‘Again? I was imprisoned there. I had to be released. I could not just come and go as I pleased. Why di—'

Peter interrupted the fox with a brief acknowledgement that they were at the hospital. Although their conversation was brief, Peter knew the reduction of information gained was the price of the speed at which he sought to arrive at the hospital and get the fox fed was typically an acceptable trade. Plus, although he liked to ask the same questions multiple times, each time Peter asked he learned a bit more about the kitsune as little pieces metaphorically leaked from the fox over time.

Although his date with Melissa McCall had been ill-fated, Peter had not hesitated to reconnect with her to work out his “volunteering” at the hospital. While she had been suspicious at first of him, the woman had come around when he had explained his desire to bring comfort, even if only briefly to those in comas, catatonic, especially those on their death beds as he had not received during his time in the hospital. She had eaten it up in the end.

Peter kept to himself the real reason: feeding. He entered the hospital through the emergency room entrance. He strode to the nurses’ station just outside the emergency room to check in. As was the case “conveniently” whenever he came to volunteer, Melissa was on duty.

Melissa wore paisley pink scrubs today with her dark curly locks bound into a ponytail at the back. With bright brown eyes and sleepless bags under them, she smiled. “Ah, back again, Peter? Three days in a row—isn’t that a record?”

Peter chuckled good-naturedly. “Yeah, maybe. Just had a lot of free time lately. Figured spending it here helping was better than scanning the paper for news.”

Melissa snickered at his wry humor, both fully knowing there was rarely any news in Beacon Hills aside from the few random animal attacks and the occasional case of drunk driving.

Wearing a cheeky smile, Peter leaned lightly on the nursing desk. “So, how are things with you?”

She sighed, filling out something on her clipboard while they spoke. “Teenagers. Seriously, were we that much trouble at that age?”

Chuckling again, Peter could not resist saying, “I hope so. Otherwise, how would we have gotten through dealing with our families?”

They shared a vulnerable and knowing smile with one another. While they were not close friends, living in a small enough town allowed each enough knowledge of the other to have an idea of past struggles they each had faced, like Melissa’s once boyfriend her family loved, now ex-husband’s abuse, and Peter’s coming out to his family. Peter often suspected that was why she had said yes to a date so seemingly long ago as well as why they currently managed an oddly casual, but somewhat, open friendship.

While he understood it, Peter still regretted that they had not become friends sooner. This was another sore point of Peter’s that the kitsune fed upon. “What happened this time?”

Melissa shrugged. “Scott’s been getting a lot of attitude in the last few months, as you know, but now he thinks it’s fine to have this new friend over who is just constantly degrading Stiles. Scott and Stiles have been friends for ages, and it just doesn’t sit right with me the way this new friend is talking about Stiles. The drama is never ending. He does at least seem to have finally moved on from that Allison girl he was all about before.”

Nodding, Peter put a pin in that information to share later. “You say anything about it?”

Her shoulders slumped. “I did, but I’m getting the feeling that everything I say that isn’t food-related goes in one ear and out the other; the disrespect is even worse than it used to be. Maybe he’s just going through a phase or something.”

“At least you have me and my sparkling personality to listen to you.”

She let out a belly laugh. “Yeah, yeah…you better move along and get to what you’re really here for. No need to be bogged down in my troubles.”

Peter shrugged. “Hey, what are friends for?”

Melissa smiled and offered him a list of people to visit.

Like usual, the list was short and all older individuals. Most of what the hospital got were the local elderly and passers through from on the scenic route as opposed to the California highways.

With a chuckle, he accepted the list from her and moved along. One at a time, Peter knocked on a patient’s door, then went in, sitting at their bedside and placing a hand upon a bit of exposed skin; this was how Peter absorbed as much of their possible pain as he could, giving them peace while simultaneously feeding the pain to the kitsune. At the same time, he spoke to the patients in soft tones, always cognizant that someone may be watching, but also to let the patient and him have something else to focus on beyond the mental image he always had in his mind while feeding the kitsune of the void fox sitting on his lap that he was petting softly while it chittered. He continued the same series of actions over and over on until the list was depleted and the kitsune was somewhat sated.

While the “helping others” aspect was considered a cover for feeding the kitsune, Peter also used it as a reminder of the value of having a pack now. Some part of him was still that crazed feral wolf that demanded taking what he wanted regardless of the consequences. He was doing better, but never took for granted the risk of flipping. Thankfully, sleeping with Stiles in his bed was at least helping keep at bay him becoming detached enough to be a risk while he was also able to protect his Alpha. Peter always tried to be on watch of himself to make sure he didn’t hurt his own pack ever again.

Additionally, all of this helped to partially curb the temptations to hunt Scott down to kill him and take the motherfucking piece of shit’s alpha spark. Peter still could never seem to get over his issue with Scott having an unearned spark. True alpha? Yeah right.

‘Ugh,’ he thought. ‘How could someone like that kid be just given a spark while everyone else had to earn it?!’

Although he was reminded of the value of having a pack, Peter still let his mind wonder some to imagine sticking Scott repeatedly with his claws like a pin cushion. He was not one to use Wolf’s Bane like the cowardly “True Alpha”. Then again, maybe a slow, drawn out death involving Wolf’s Bane could be “justice” for the coward forcing Derek to bite an Argent. Perhaps he could convince Stiles of such an idea? His Alpha did seem far more practical as an Alpha than the “True Alpha”. Peter grinned at the mental image the kitsune had conjured within his mind of not only Scott receiving “justice,” but Stiles being a witness…or perhaps he was the killer?

Shaking his head, Peter checked the time. Seeing it was already the afternoon, he smiled and headed out. He had other things to deal with and school was almost out.

At precisely 3:20pm, Peter was standing under some trees in the Beacon High parking lot, watching as teenagers were heading to their vehicles now that school was over. He waited patiently for what he sought: Adrian.

Although Lacrosse practice was today, Peter suspected that Derek had the Adrian drop out to keep him away from Scott. It would make sense. Scott did, in the past, act as a pawn of witches, use magic items against Adrian, and tried to sacrifice him. Peter could not help but consider violence the better option, though that was not a great default avenue, according to Stiles. That, however, did not stop him and the kitsune from having a chuckle at the image of such a thing occurring.

Peter could just see it in his mind’s eye with the kitsune was showing it to him even more vividly than his mind alone could:

Scott on the ground, every limb broken, but none of them healing. The motherfucking piece of shit was willing to be a pawn to the magical interests of others for his own gain, so why not use magic to keep him broken? Peter could walk around the young alpha, quietly thrilled and victorious, pointedly stepping on the already damaged limbs to inflict more pain.

Every time it looked like the motherfucking piece of shit would pass out from the pain and receive a break, Peter would siphon off just enough to keep the young alpha conscious. Peter couldn’t stop his smirk from coming to the surface.

This could go on forever or just a moment—he knew it was up to him. And when the moment was just right, just sweetened enough with all of Scott’s misery, Peter would slash his throat and roll metaphorically in the motherfucking piece of shit’s blood while also feeling the rush of the Alpha power once again.

In moments like these, the line between what Peter actually wanted and what the kitsune sought to trigger by showing it to him was thin. While he could justify some of what he was being shown and even truly did want to hurt Scott if for nothing else than the idiot nearly getting Stiles killed, Peter was smarter than a full on attack or trying to keep the “true alpha” in any pain or attack him at all. The idiot was not worth it. Plus, Peter suspected Stiles would be so disappointed in him. Peter did NOT want that.

Thankfully, some kid honked his car horn at another driver and snapped Peter out of the fantasy and his thoughts just in time to watch Adrian walking into the parking lot toward a parked black Camaro. Within the vehicle was Derek Hale with his driver’s side window down.

In loose black jeans, sneakers, and a lacrosse jersey, Adrian strode up to the vehicle. He had with him a young girl with long dark hair. She was wearing jeans as well as a black and white stripped long-sleeve shirt.

They approached the driver’s side window together.

Peter pointedly honed his hearing in on the conversation.

Adrian motioned between the girl and Derek. “Derek, this is Kira.”

The girl waved shyly.

The young wolf continued on, “She’s looking to join the lacrosse team. I guess she caught something and got Coach’s attention. I’d offered to do some practice with her to help her with tryouts. That cool with you?”

Derek looked the girl up and down. He then motioned his head toward the car door.

Adrian grinned like a fool. “That means yes, Kira. Derek here isn’t one for words.”

The two got into the Camaro before it drove off.

Peter could not quite put his finger on why, but the girl seemed off. Not quite human. However, he wasn’t sure quite what. Perhaps a spark like Stiles? It was hard to say from this distance for sure one way or another.

However, while it was too far for Peter to be sure, the Void kitsune within him purred one word in the wolf’s mind: kitsune. The fox wasn’t ready to do much it seemed as he showed no need to act beyond sharing the type of creature the young girl was. Peter was sure the dark kitsune was already forming a plan if it did not already have one.

With a faint shake of his head, Peter sighed, but waited to leave, having just caught sight of two people he had not been expecting to see at the school: two alphas. Twins.

Carefully maintaining an air of “waiting for someone,” Peter subtly observed the twin alphas. He even listened to them while taking care not to appear to.

The bulkier and slightly taller of the two was acting tense in his jeans, black v-neck, and maroon unbuttoned over shirt. His eyes flashed at his brother. “I don’t like this. He’s human.”

Wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt, the leaner of the two sighed. “Look, you’ve seen what I have. Do you really want the smallest pack in town with a third of the pack in a coma?”

The other growled lowly in answer.

“Okay. Do you want the other small pack that is still in the process of growing?”

“He would be the one Duke wanted.”

The leaner one tightened his fists, hiding that his claws had popped out. The only tells were the bit of blood from his hands and the faint scent on the breeze. “Well, he’s not here, is he?”

Shrugging, the bulkier one shook out his own hands, probably to prevent having the same reaction as his brother. “Well, we’d at least, maybe, be in his good graces when he returns.”

“I doubt it. Honestly, bringing him that kind of pack could go either way. Plus, we’ve seen it—how the packs here are operating so far. We’re gonna need the strongest if we’re going to stand a chance.”

Seeing them leave, Peter slipped away. He recognized exactly where they were likely going and intended to beat them there.

In a quiet dash, Peter got himself to Stiles’ house, dropping down into the back yard, surprised most of his pack was already there.

Chapter 4: Knock, Knock... Hale who?

Summary:

Peter. Murder fantasies with a fox. Another Hale?

Notes:

I hope you like this and am so sorry most posting is not really consistent

In a quiet dash from Beacon High, Peter found himself at the Stilinski house. He managed to slip closer to the backyard unseen, dropping down into the back yard from the neighbor’s tree that hug partially into the Stilinski back yard. Peter saw the pack training, trying to improve their skills, but paid it no mind. More important was telling his Alpha about the incoming potential threat. Peter then ran a gentle hand over the Stiles’ shoulders. “Two Alphas are heading our way, likely from the Alpha pack.”

Peter, while paying attention to his chosen Alpha, was also keeping an ear out for the twins. He was not one for positivity, and the twins were a dangerous threat of unknown proportion.

Even as he listened and responded to Stiles, Peter and the kitsune within him were imagining violence. His first thought was of taking a frontal approach, going for the eyes. If they knew Duke, it meant they were likely a part of the Alpha Pack and the irony of them being blinded too would not be missed.

As these wolves may not be used to fighting blind, the advantage could be Peter’s even with him not being an Alpha. To do it though, he had to be quick and come out of left field. Blinding them would feel better if it were his fingers, his claws, doing the gouging, but it may be safer to use some of Allison’s knives and do it from a distance.

Briefly, he was grateful to be able to use more than his claws in terms of skills. It was a pro of having been his sister’s Left Hand. Even if it had not been something he was encouraged to do, Peter would’ve gone out of his way to learn as much as he could about ways to defend his pack.

Mentally shaking off that thought, those memories, Peter focused on the imminent threat—blind them both and throw himself over them. Rake his claws up their backs. He figured Erica would join in, following his lead. Whether she was successful or not, it would keep them busy, distracted, then he could slit their throats.

Tilting his head slightly, Peter followed the others into the house. He grabbed one of his books and leaned on the counter to “read” it. In all reality, he was simply looking right through the book as his mind offered another option. What if, with their being Alphas and twins, it allowed them better, unspoken teamwork? There was no way of knowing until in the heat of the moment.

Not wanting to risk it, Peter let the kitsune come more to the surface so that they were sharing control as they had been practicing for months. They bounced back and forth more potential scenarios, like the Alpha’s getting the drop on the whole pack, possibly even managing to grab Stiles. As he thought of these things, his brows furrowed more and more, showing just how strong his relation to Derek was.

When the knock on the door finally came, Peter forced both himself and the kitsune to refocus on the moment rather than possibilities that would undoubtably grow dark and then darker. Thankfully he was able to be present quickly enough to stop Stiles from answering the door.

While he knew he may not be able justify outright attacking the Alphas where others may see, Peter still wanted to afford the pack a fighting chance. As a result, he answered the front door in such a way as to prevent the expected twins from seeing into the livingroom.

Upon opening the door, Peter wore his best overtly insincere smile. “Well, what brings two strapping young boys to my door?”

The slightly broader twin growled.

The other put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We are here seeking help. We’re not looking for trouble.”

“And what made you think I could help?”

The broader one growled again. “Not you, old man. Your Alpha.”

Stiles sighed. “Peter, please, let them in.”

Peter carefully backed up to let the twins into the livingroom, never turning his back on them and maintaining a safe distance between the twins and Stiles. Crossing his arms, Peter carefully kept from flashing his eyes or letting the kitsune come too close to the surface to change his eyes either. Like all secrets the pack kept, Peter knew that something like the kitsune should not be brought into the open, exposed unless absolutely necessary.

Stiles stood near the dining room table, with both Erica and Lydia in close proximity. This position also put Peter and Allison between him and the two Alphas. He let his arms hang limp at his sides, deceptively leaving his chest exposed to attack. “So, you mentioned help?”

The bulkier twin looked ready to attack anyone and everyone in the room. It was clear he was also fighting not to shift in his agitated state.

However, once again, the leaner twin interceded. “Yes, we do need help. Our Alpha was taken—we want him back.”

Peter growled. “We’re not all human, and we can hear lies.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, the young wolf continued. “Fine. We don’t want him back, but we need him back. If he’s still alive out there and we didn’t try to get him and he escapes on his own…it won’t be pretty.”

Peter gave Stiles a minute nod, this was indeed true. If Duke was their Alpha, not being pretty was well beyond an understatement. Peter’d heard stories of the brutality with which Duke had dispatched his own pack, leaning into the crueler sides of his insanity it seemed. A man after Peter’s Left hand heart, but as an enemies? Duke could not be mistaken as anything beyond brutal and calculating with a honed interest in his desires.

Stiles then asked, “Do you know who has your Alpha?”

The twins shared a look between them for a moment.

In that moment, Peter scrapped a couple of his possible plans for if things got violent. The twins weren’t speaking out loud, but they clearly had a way to communicate. So, if he had to go the blinding route, he’d have to blind one and then attack the other. At least if he used one of Allison’s (probably Wolf’s Bane poisoned) blades, it would buy time by slowing the healing. Plus, it would allow an aspect of surprise as a wolf using that poison it would be far from expected.

The bulkier one leaned forward just a bit. “Witches…and some hunters.”

Stiles perked a brow at that. “Where did they get taken?”

The twins spoke in unison: “There’s a preserve at the edge of town, near a clearing.”

Peter watched as Stiles quietly gave nothing away despite what he was likely recognizing. The others still didn’t see it, but Peter and the kitsune did. They saw what Stiles didn’t say, didn’t do. Stiles was turning into a predator; a cunning, mental force to be reckoned with. It was hard for Peter to not smirk at the thought. It also didn’t hurt that there was just something about Stiles that Peter could not yet put his finger on. However, he set those wandering thoughts aside for now.

With a nod as if having decided something, Stiles said, “Okay, that’s enough. We’ll think about it. How would we get a hold of you when we’ve decided?”

The twins shared a look again. It seemed they did not get the answer they were looking for.

Rather than answer the question, the leaner one straightened a bit. “The one who took him—the main hunter. He said something about doing more than blinding him this time.”

It was as if the room chilled to Peter. Peter intentionally stepped closer to Allison, careful not to leave Stiles unprotected or out of sight. Peter knew what the others may not. He hoped his move would tip Stiles off, letting him know who the man being mentioned was.

Stiles gave voice to it: “Gerard.”

The room ran frozen.

The leaner twin, seeing an opening, went for broke. ”He got the others too—”

Stiles interrupted, remembering, “Ennis and Kali.”

The twins’ eyes grew big, likely filled with questions.

Before any could be asked, Stiles ran a hand through his hair. “Your Alpha is the leader of the Alpha pack.”

The bulkier twin threw up his hands and moved to leave. “Fuck this. You can grovel Ethan, but I’m done with this. Let them come for us—we’ll take them.”

Ethan reached out to grab his brother’s shoulder.

Stiles straightened up a bit. “No, you won’t.”

Ethan spoke then. “You’ll help us?”

Stiles shrugged. “We’ll think about it.”

Ethan sighed, still gripping his brother’s shoulder. “We have something we can offer in return.”

The other twin shook Ethan loose. “No, that’s his. We can’t do that.”

Ethan then looked to his brother—“We have to. He may punish us for giving up his token, but he’d be rescued. We won’t survive on our own. We have to do something, Aiden.”

Aiden growled, but motioned for his brother to continue.

Ethan nodded to his brother before turning back to Stiles. “We have a Hale.”

Peter’s fangs dropped as he growled deep enough to rival most wolves.

“Peter!” Stiles spoke, loud and demanding attention.

When he looked quickly to his Alpha, Peter saw Stiles with glowing red eyes rimmed in a thin ring of a luminescent purple, shaking his head no.

Peter found his whole body felt the implied Alpha order to not attack vibrating through him. Everything in him wanted him to fight it. He wanted to tear through the twins, find his family member, and make them regret ever even thinking the name Hale.

The kitsune encouraged violence, whispering in his mind: roll in their blood. Torture them into giving us what we want. We could burn them alive for daring harm a Hale, daring to even catch a Hale. No. That was an Argent method. No, he’d maul them outright. Hurt them. Hurt them for your family. At the same time, the dark kitsune was showing images of the violently murdered corpses of the twins: beheadings, slow limb separations with forced cannibalism, and more.

It was hard for Peter to refocus on the moment and listen. He had to, but the images the dark kitsune was conjuring in his mind were a hard bait not to take. However, while the kitsune was preaching torture and cruelty of the finest vintage, Peter worked to focus on his new pack.

Peter cared for his pack. They all knew trauma of different kinds, yet they still worked well together. Hell, he was even in a pack with an Argent hunter, but it had grown on him. No, not an Argent hunter. A pack member. Allison has grown some on him with her sweet, shy brushes against her girlfriend, Lydia, and how they both seemed to speak without words, love without question. It was a strange element of innocence in a violent world.

Honestly, Peter really expected that part of why he was so accepting of Allison was how her and Lydia reminded him of how things were for him with his first boyfriend. The way they flirted and touched, the fumbling exploration of one another. Peter also felt that the girls deserved to be accepted as they were rather than all the fight that he got from his parents about him not carrying on the family name through having children.

It was so strange that his parents were like that when most packs did not have issues with homosexuality as far as he knew. As a teen, Peter had gone out of his way to investigate other packs’ reaction to and level of acceptance of homosexual pack members. Most, like his sister Talia, had no issue with it at all. Peter never really understood why his parents never could fully accept that part of him.

Peter faintly shook his head to shake his distractions away and keep his focus away from the dark kitsune’s barrage of delightful ideas as well. Peter took strength from his chosen Alpha.

While it was a weird situation, having a human Alpha, Peter had grown close to Stiles. He was fiercely loyal and genuinely cared for every person in the pack. More interestingly to Peter was how resourceful Stiles was. Peter still assumed that part of what brought him so close to Stiles was a mix of his acceptance of Peter and all the physical contact they’ve shared. That physical contact, the comfort of truly being touched by a pack member was incredibly fulfilling for Peter’s wolf but also encouraged trust. Initially, Peter was sleeping lightly when in Stiles’ bed to help with nightmares and get Stiles to sleep at all.

Over time, Peter grew more comfortable and trusting of Stiles. It was hard to explain how Stiles eased so much of Peter both through the touch he was not getting from any other pack members at the time and the ways in which Stiles never took for granted that Peter was genuinely trying to help. Stiles always seemed a mix of gratitude and shyness after the initial invitations to get the teen to sleep.

Peter also saw signs of things he had concerns about. While he knew about that Gerard tortured Stiles, Peter suspected his issues with trust, being touched by strangers, and even efforts to not be cornered implied other traumas lurking in the Stiles’ past.

Back to paying attention again, Peter watched his Alpha.

Stiles moved closer to Peter and then ran a hand along up his beta’s arm comfortingly.

He then looked to Ethan and Aiden. “Okay, change of plans. “

Chapter 5: A Surprise Survivor

Summary:

Red eyes. Cookies. A deal. Blood.

Peter’s fangs dropped as he growled ferally. Peter was about to leap into a fight.

Loud and dominating, a deep growl was let loose into the room from an unexpected source: Stiles.

On sheer instinct, Peter looked quickly to his Alpha. He saw Stiles with glowing red eyes rimmed in a thin ring of a darker purple. Peter’s whole body felt like an Alpha order was vibrating through him.

The kitsune encouraged the previous intent to fight, whispering in his mind: We could roll in their blood. Torture them into giving us the Hale. We could burn them alive for daring to ever say the Hale name or evoke the past.

Stiles, his voice more a growl than much else, said, “No.”

Peter swallowed hard, staring into Stiles’ eyes, not moving for a second longer before looking away and exposing his throat to his Alpha carefully so as not to show his throat to the twin alphas.

Moving to Peter, Stiles stood beside if a bit in front of his beta. He then looked to Ethan and Aiden. “New plan. You go get the Hale you have in your possession so that we may see them. Then we’ll see about the rest.”

Taking what they could get, both twins nodded and left the house.

While slightly less tense with the two outside Alphas gone, the whole room was still ridged at the information bomb the twins had provided.

Stiles then ran a hand down Peter’s arm gently with a gentle squeeze to the man’s wrist. No words shared. Just touch.

Peter took a deep breath that Stiles’ actions triggered him to release. His Alpha’s scent on some level soothing. Having no words, Peter followed the unspoken to go outside. He needed to find his game face. Things had to be handled just right regardless of his desire to kill literally the twin Alphas in brutal and exactingly cruel ways. He took a couple deep breaths to steady himself for what came next. He knew he had to get it together. It would do no good to start trouble before they could even confirm if they had a Hale in the first place. He needed to be ready to fight, yes, if they were lying, but at the same time, he had to be ready for an actual family member to have made it out of the fire.

He found himself starting to fantasize, imagining his child made it out, but he knew better. His son had been an infant—there was no chance for it to be him. No matter how much Peter would’ve loved for it to be him. His wife? Unlikely, but it would be amazing. She had been his best friend. She’d married him knowing he was gay to get his parents to back off. He needed a wife to create children with. She wanted children and had gentle, quiet strength, but that didn’t change that he saw her burn. It wasn’t her. He knew it could not be his sister Talia. She would not have left him. She was his sister but also his other best friend. She would’ve stayed or at least taken him with her regardless of his comatose state. It would be so amazing if it somehow was her though.

Being honest with himself, any of his family being alive would be a tiny piece of weight lifted. While he had managed to kill most of those responsible for the fire, Peter had not got them all. There was still Gerard and the Beacon high chemistry teacher. Shaking his head, Peter felt himself slump some. Not in relaxation but in a sense, no matter it’s length, of failure. He had failed to save his family. He had failed to protect them in the first place. He even now had failed at avenging them. He refused to fail now!

He would not allow himself to dream and fantasize about any of them being alive any further. They did not even know if the twins even had a someone from his family. Additionally, while his first pack was gone, Peter had a new pack to protect. He refused to fail them like he did his first.

He needed to focus himself.

The dark kitsune cooperated as he saw no reason not to after getting a buffet of regrets and self-hate while suspecting that they’d get violence.

In the kitchen, Stiles said, “Lydia, call Derek. Don’t tell him what all is happening. Just tell him it is an emergency. Tell him to bring Boyd and get over here as quickly as possible. Also, to enter through the back door. It’ll be unlocked.”

Hearing Stiles’ words, Peter came back in.

Pale at all that had been shared and likely even what they may need to do, Lydia nodded. “Anything else he’ll need?”

Stiles looked to Allison next. “Ally, I want you to get ready for a werewolf on werewolf fight. I’m hoping to avoid it, but I want to be ready to deal with it should things come to that. And Lydia, it would be cool if he could bring a relaxed attitude, but we all know the odds with Brows.”

Allison got up and moved to get into the bag she’d brought. She dug around in the bag, mumbling to herself about having been prepared practically for werebears.

Peter watched his pack operating calmly if only on the surface. He stopped flashing his eyes and withdrew the claws he had not noticed emerging while the twins were there. He then let his teeth return to human as he rubbed his face with both of his hands.

With his face scrubbed of expression, Peter leaned “casually” against the livingroom wall nearest the front door. He could not deny to himself, let alone the kitsune, that he was on edge, ready to strike. He could not deny his desire to have the twins’ blood and viscera on his hands.

He kept reminding himself that no one there right now was someone to sink his claws into. While they would all scream prettily for him as the kitsune liked to remind him, Peter knew and felt they were his pack. His to protect, not torture. He could not risk making the mistake of hurting his pack again. He refused to let his mind wander that way if he could help it especially after his self-talk outside. This was no time to let the dark kitsune even attempt to steer him away from his true feelings.

The kitsune did not help old trauma, old habits. However, maybe the fox spirit and Peter’d be able to rend the twins of their flesh once his kin were here and safe.

Once off the phone with Derek, Lydia scoffed. “He hung up on me, kinda.”

Stiles tilted his head. “Kinda?”

“I think he threw his phone. Just as rude though.”

Stiles chuckled. “Please hand me your phone?”

Without question, Lydia gave Stiles her phone.

Although he was peripherally aware of Stiles calling his father, Peter did not have it in himself to care. Trying to pry his mind from the violence he growingly sought to take out on the twins, Peter tried to focus elsewhere. There was another Hale. A living Hale. A living Hale he had not killed, not betrayed. Even though he would never say it out loud, Peter regretted killing Laura. That one act was the truest betrayal of his family’s memory and of what family he had left.

He also regretted not seeing it, not seeing what Kate was doing to his nephew just behind their backs. His failing as a Left Hand to his pack. Peter had betrayed both and this might be a chance, however slight, to do right by his family, right by the pack he once had. Yet, at the same time, Peter kept trying to pull himself from all of those thoughts that were currently not productive. The thoughts did not help him be ready for whatever came next.

The kitsune seemed to finally just passively watch while eating up the chaos already stirred in Peter.

Those thoughts were so heavy he felt weighted into Stiles’ floor. He shook his head, returning to thoughts of violence. Those thoughts weren’t safe either. They gave him agency, action, violence, and his truest art once, but he knew better. Stiles had showed him better: strength and agency in a new family, a new pack through strength, caring, and loyalty. While he wanted to declare that he would destroy those who took everything from him, his family, Peter took a slow deep breath. He focused on his own breathing like Stiles often did to help get himself out of a panic attack.

Peter came back to the surface and out of his thoughts somewhat as he heard Derek entering Stiles’ back yard with Boyd who seemed to be intentionally making noise to warn them. He stood properly then, being present rather than trying to wrangle fully his own feelings. “He’s here.”

No longer leaning back passively against a wall, Peter let himself fake being calm and relaxed in part through relaxed breathing while being fully upright. He understood the power of presentation, aiming to help get Derek into cooperating with Stiles as soon as possible. The sooner they were all on the same page, the sooner the destruction could—NO—the situation could be facilitated, begin to get a possible family member back.

Derek did not knock at all. He just charged into the house through the backdoor.

Boyd and Adrian followed Derek into the home.

Seeing Peter’s relaxed state, Boyd relaxed himself some likely keying in on their being something more happening.

In response, Adrian relaxed too. The newer wolf unintentionally was keying into Boyd who was the closest in age believed-member of Derek’s pack.

Derek was not paying attention to anyone just yet beyond Stiles who he was staring down Alpha to Alpha with. He had his claws out and his eyes burning red. In black jeans and a long-sleeved medium blue shirt, the Alpha would look almost casual if one ignored his aggressive stance that was already on the edge of violence.

Stiles merely closed the distance between him and Derek calmly.

Derek faltered, looking confused at the calm despite having been told it was an emergency.

Not hesitating at all Stiles touched Derek, running his hand up Derek’s arm and back down it.

Derek stared, frozen by the Alpha to Beta behavior from another Alpha. The man went from ready for violence to his brows being up to nearly his hairline. He then looked around himself, no doubt seeing the calm, relaxed state of everyone before settling his eyes on Peter. Derek was visibly taken aback by his Uncle’s relaxed body. That was something he had not seen since before the fire. He then looked to Stiles in confusion.

Stiles hugged Derek’s shock-frozen form. “I need you to sit down. We all need to talk.”

With a facial expression closing off in anticipation of pain as well as suspicion, Derek sat down at the table in the dining room. “Decided to give your Alpha Spark to the better Alpha?”

No one reacted to Derek’s words.

Stiles signaled for Peter and Lydia to join he and Derek at the dinning room table while encouraging the others to go to the Livingroom.

Boyd helped to get Adrian to move into the Livingroom as the others moved there on their own.

Allison had chosen to be upstairs while this part happened with Stiles’ blessing. No need for her last name to be thrown at her like an insult—she already knew what her family had done. She was fine with not having to rehash everything again.

Once Derek was sat down, Peter gently laid a hand over Derek’s. He threaded their fingers partially together.

Derek looked to his hand where it met with Peters. He looked up, visibly concerned.

With Peter to one side and Lydia on the other—both closest to him, Derek and Stiles took up opposing positions at the table.

Stiles bit the tragedy-bullet. “The twins came to me today—”

“From the Alpha Pack?”

“Yes, Derek. They came seeking help. Their alpha was taken—they called him Duke.”

Peter gently squeezed Derek’s hand, saying, “The Demon Wolf”

Derek’s eyebrows hunkered down into a frown.

Stiles did not appear phased. “They are looking for protection and help rescuing their Alpha.”

Derek shrugged, taking his hand from Peter to shoving it in his pocket. He furrowed his brows no more or less.

Peter sighed. “There is more to this.”

He then looked to Stiles. “Please.”

Derek perked a brow at that word ‘please.’

With a sympathetic smile, Stiles nodded slightly. “Always intended to. They have something we want. They claim they have a Hale.”

Derek shot up to standing as he growled, ripped his hand out of his pocket that were now claws, and dropped his fangs.

Stiles stayed sitting. “Derek. Sit. Down. We need to talk still.”

Letting loose another growl as a threat, Derek looked Stiles in the eyes once again in challenge.

The human Alpha stared right back, unphased. “Derek. They are bringing who they have here. We need a plan; we need to not be stupid. I do not want ANYONE being hurt in this.”

Derek sighed. “How long have you known about this?”

“I had you called once they were out of hearing range. I am not your enemy.”

Derek raises a challenging brow. “Okay. If you are not my enemy, why did you give your Alpha Spark to Scott since you have not given it to me?”

At those words, Lydia bursts into laughter.

Stiles sighs.

Derek’s brows got unrealistically lower as he looked ready to make a move in reaction.

Stiles, while still maintaining eye contain, spoke slowly. “I am not your enemy, and I did not give Scott anything. That is not what is happening.”

“Then what is? What? Think the red eyes make you look cool? Being an Alpha is important and comes with responsibility!”

Finally standing, Stiles was still, quiet, unnerving in his resolute rise to his role in the pack. “Derek, stop while I am still not your enemy. I did not keep this to look cool. I kept this to protect MY pack. Look around. Notice anything?”

Derek flinched back as he looked around himself. Both Peter and Lydia had moved away from him and were closer to Stiles, in protective positions. When he looked to the livingroom, he could see Allison standing next to Boyd. They both were incredibly attentive to what was happening.

Stiles had not been alone. He used to always be alone or with Scott, but true alpha was not here.

Derek appeared to recognize that he had missed what had been right in front of him since before the hospital months ago that Stiles was never alone anymore.

Slowly sitting down, Derek pulled back his wolf. “I didn’t see it.”

Stiles also sat down. “I know you didn’t, and that’s okay. We all make mistakes and miss out on things. Now, the twins are going to return with a Hale, or so they say. My intent is to have you and Peter here to confirm whether it is a Hale or not. I do not intend for you to negotiate—I’ll handle that. I swear to you that I will protect EVERY Hale with all my resources, including my life.”

Derek nodded, quieted with his realization and Stiles’ words as well as his brows being at a more neutral position.

Peter could see how things were relaxing in his nephew. Peter thought just maybe they would be able to do this.

Stiles then folded his hands together on the table. “We need to present a united front. As a result, I will do all the speaking. I want this to not bite us in the ass later if possible.”

--

Twenty-six minutes later, Peter announced, “Twins are within hearing range. They have someone with them.”

Everyone had been positioned in the Livingroom to appear honest about their numbers though the Sheriff was not here nor was Deaton.

Stiles was baking cookies, having whipped together more dough in the last ten minutes of talking with Derek. He’d kept them away from everyone with the intent of using them in the meeting.

A strong rap of a knock at the door.

As he had insisted, Stiles answered the door. Seeing that it was Ethan and Aiden, Stiles walked backwards from the door, letting them in.

He moved and sat on the couch arm to watch all that happened in their entry as well as Peter and Derek’s reactions.

Peter’s eyes went huge as he saw past the twins a young girl of moderate height with hair the same shade as his own but longer in length. She wore jeans, a black t-shirt, and a light-weight brown jacket. She as dirty and had clearly seen better times, but even with that and her having grown into a teenager Peter could see the strong brows and hardcore attitude of his niece Cora. It took genuine effort to not weep at the sight of the little girl he thought he’d lost over six years ago. Thankfully, he kept a tight hold on showing his emotions, especially with enemy wolves present.

Derek was less successful at that if he had been trying at all. He looked like he had seen a ghost. He moved to step forward, but the twins blocked his access.

Ethan and Aiden then closed the door behind them and Cora.

Cora was in handcuffs, possibly Wolf’s Bane infused it seemed. The second she appeared to see Peter and Derek tears began to run down her cheeks unhindered.

Stiles stood back up, aware now, based on the Hale men’s reactions, that the girl was indeed a Hale. He nodded to the betas from his pack.

Each of them got up and went upstairs, except Allison and Lydia. They moved to stand beside him instead. Stiles moved, willingly turning his back on the wolves with Allison and Lydia there to protect him. “Well, let’s all move to the table. I baked some cookies for us all to enjoy while we work out what we can.”

Both Ethan and Aiden eyed Stiles suspiciously. However, they did take seats at the table. They put Cora in a chair as well.

Derek and Peter took seats at the table too, but Derek soon stood right back up.

Stiles moved to join them all at the table alongside Lydia with Allison hanging back to watch but not join. He brought a huge plate of what looked like chocolate chip cookies that he sat down as Lydia sat in the position of Left Hand of the pack. Stiles then sat at one end opposite the twins with Lydia on his left and Peter sitting at his right.

Derek was leaned against the wall between the three Alphas present while just a hint closer to Stiles seemingly unintentionally.

Peter could smell the chocolate but also the turmeric, paprika, and chili powder in them. It was a weird blend, but it was good, nonetheless. He carefully kept his attention on the twins as he helped himself to a cookie.

Derek perked a brow at the cookies but grabbed one anyways. He was probably too curious to refuse at least trying them with how they smelled.

Stiles then popped his fingers. “Okay. So, I am willing to extend protection over you both for her—”

Peter said, “Cora.”

Stiles nodded. “Yes, we’ll give you protection in exchange for Cora.”

Aiden growled. “Fuck this! We should ju--

Ethan placed a hand over his brother’s. “How about protection AND helping us with Duke?”

Shaking his head, Stiles said, “No. You are an enemy. I have no reason to want to help an enemy get stronger by letting an Alpha who wants us dead to get free. For my or Derek’s pack, there would have to be a hell of a lot more on the table to actively make our enemy stronger.”

Ethan tapped his fingers on the table.

Derek shifted his position to be outright to the side of Stiles’ pack, seemingly showing his growing trust of the new pack.

Aiden looked ready to bolt out of frustration while also watched Derek cautiously.

Ethan then seemed to think of something. “Okay. What if you got stronger too?”

Stiles perked a brow at that. “How so?”

“Well, we could teach you more. More about wolves, about being an Alpha.”

Peter scoffed. “WE can teach him that.”

Aiden shook his head. “Not like we can. Duke is a genius. He is who taught us. And he taught us more than what other packs know. The histories of not just his pack but tons of others too. He’s from a very old family. He also is a brutal enemy in all he knows. We could teach you everything he taught us.”

Stiles looked to Peter.

Peter gave an incredibly slight nod.

Stiles nodded more overtly. “So, you teach us, and we get Cora. In exchange you get your Alpha back and protection.”

Ethan nodded. “But we may also need protection for him due to the state he may be in.”

Stiles shook his head no. “Protect my enemy until he’s healthy enough to kill me? Are you guys high?”

Ethan sighed, looking to his brother.

Aiden shrugged. “If he dies because we don’t it’d be useless to us anyways.”

Ethan then added, “We’ll include why Cora is now a risk. It was our doing after all.”

Derek growled, his teeth dropping.

Stiles leaned over some to gently touched Derek’s wrist to help him calm even if only a bit.

Stiles looks to Peter, motioning for him to come closer.

Once within reach, Peter gently touches Stiles wrist. Through that contact, the kitsune spread between them like a telephone wire. Peter recognized the intent. Peter says softly to the kitsune that Stiles should take the deal while reminding Stiles of all Peter had been teaching him for the past few months about other packs and the Alpha pack. He trusts that with the amount of pain that will be involved will help to kitsune WANT to share the message. Peter makes sure to sweeten the pot of pain for the kitsune with a promise to share new pains with the dark fox.

With the message sent, Stiles nods and motions for Peter to return to his seat.

The older wolf does return to being fully upright in his seat, mentally describing to the kitsune the tortures Peter would like to visit upon Kali were she still alive for ripping Derek’s arm off permanently. Peter’s creative mind really dwelled on rather than permanently removing anything from her body adding other things to her body, like forcing cannibalism and attaching left arms to her all over her body.

While entertaining and rewarding the kitsune with such dark thoughts and desired vengeance that would never be had, Peter watched his Alpha.

Stiles nodded to Ethan and Aiden. “Okay, teaching us, Cora, and telling us what you’ve done to make her unsafe AND helping us protect our territory for as long as you are under our protection in exchange for protection of you and Duke as well as rescuing him.”

Aiden nodded immediately. “Deal.”

Ethan visibly hesitated, but upon hearing his brother nodded as well. “Deal.”

Stiles’ eyes glowed red with thicker rims of purple. “Deal. We will all hold to the spirit of this deal and require the same from you. Should anyone break their end, the whole deal is over in the favor of the wronged party.”

Peter could not help but run his hand soothingly up Stiles’ arm.

With a smile, Stiles did the same to Peter. Then, Stiles stood up. “Please let Cora loose and tell us of what has been done to her.”

At the same time as him speaking, he gave Lydia a nod. In response, she left them to go upstairs to bring the others down.

About twenty minutes later, Ethan and Aiden left to get their things and tie up any loose ends they had in terms of housing and storage.

Once the Alphas were out of hearing ranger, Stiles sighed looking at both his pack and Derek’s. “It’s … we’re going to order out for dinner. You are all welcome to stay for it; however, if you stay, I may put you to work at some point.”

Peter sighed before moving to check Cora over for wounds.

Seeing how Peter was with Cora caused Stiles to grab some menus for takeout from their current hiding place.

Adrian tilted his head at Derek who nodded.

It seemed they were staying. Derek moved to where Cora was sitting now that she had been let loose and was being cared for by Peter. He crouched down in front of her, looking at her with wonder. “Hello little sister.”

Stiles almost chuckled at their job well done, seeing that Derek’s pack was staying but didn’t dare as he saw the Hales together.

Derek turned to look at Stiles with a borderline judge-y slant of his brows. “Here’s my card.”

Although clearly startled, Stiles moved to accept the card. “Any requests?”

“Chinese,” Peter answered. “It is—was her favorite. Is that still so Cora-bean?”

Cora rolled her eyes seemingly playfully while perking a brow in what looked like challenge—all while still having tears running down her face.

Peter smiled: a real, genuine smile. “Yes, Chinese food.”

Just then, Noah came into the house with a look of surprise at all the people and wolves in his home as well as one he had never seen when he really only expected Stiles and possibly a person or two. In his brown-colored uniform jacket with blood stains on the coat, Noah looked to his son. “Stiles? We need to talk.”

Notes:

Comments and kudos feed my plot bunnies <3

Chapter 6: Alphas, murders, and Levander

Summary:

Three Alphas. Murders. Plans. Magic. Levander.

Notes:

Levander, meaning loosely translated from old Swedish, ‘heart’ and ‘man’ combined. Source: https://www.ancestry.com/name-origin?surname=levander

Noah came into the house in his brown-colored uniform with blood stains and coat. “Stiles? We need to talk.”

Having smelled blood as they came back in, Peter and Derek both growled.

Stiles eyes shot to Peter’s even as he saw his father flinch back from the growl out of the corner of his eye.

Peter looked to Stiles and then pointedly looked at the Sheriff.

Understanding the signal, Stiles rounded on his Dad. “Are you okay?”

Noah sighed, appearing to roll with the punches even if he appeared a bit pale under the collar. “It’s not my blood. Take it down a notch.”

Stiles rolled his eyes while crossing his arms over his chest. “Okay, then what do we need to talk about?”

After shaking his head at his son, Noah moved to grab himself a cup of coffee. “I just came from a murder scene. There were three victims this time.”

Furrowing his brows, Stiles tilted his head. “This time? How many times have there been?”

“One, that we’ve found for sure and possibly one other connected one. I’m concerned there may be more or at the very least will be.”

“Anything off? Like, say overtly supernatural?”

“Hence talking. There is not anything explicitly signaling that, but there’s just something off.”

“Cop instinct?”

Noah sighed, moving to look in the fridge. “Something like that.”

Tilting his head slightly the other way, Stiles watched his Dad. “Looking for something in there?”

Noah shook his head, closing the fridge. “Just debating on if I want to bother with grabbing a bite to eat while here to change clothes.”

“So, wanting us to check if this is just a serial killer-like situation or supernatural?”

Noah looked to his son skeptically. “Yes, if you can do so without putting your pack OR yourself in danger. Also, ideally not breaking any laws, but I can settle for at least not getting caught breaking any laws.”

Peter smiled, showing a hint of teeth.

Stiles then offered, “You go change and I’ll make some food to go for you, okay?”

Noah nodded once, ruffling Stiles’ hair while passing him on the way to heading upstairs.

With a sigh once his Dad was out of sight, Stiles opened his mouth to speak.

Before Stiles could speak, Erica hopped up onto Adrian. “Hey, wanna see a new trick I learned?”

Adrian opened his mouth. “Uh, Derek?”

While Derek made brow gestures to his beta, Stiles gave Erica the faintest nod of approval. “Allison, would you join us at the table, please?”

Derek made no more eyebrow words but was watching as Lydia too came to sit at the table.

Stiles sat at the table and popped his fingers.

Peter continued to help Cora, gently washing her face while quietly saying, “Let’s see if my wonderful niece is really there under all of that dirt.”

Cora appeared to be working to not grin at her Uncle’s silliness.

Lydia sat to Stiles’ left.

No words.

Looking to neither as he watched Allison take a seat, Stiles ran a hand down his face. “Allison, think you could convince your Dad to have a look into the murders? I want you with him on it. It can work double duty: learning his resources better and finding what we can through him about these murders.”

Allison nodded. “Want me taking notes on any contacts?”

Peter leaned over to catch Lydia’s attention while remaining with Cora.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Stiles noticed Lydia lean toward Peter. Rather than comment on them, he maintained his focus on Allison. “Trust your instincts in the moment on that. But make sure to keep your Dad from learning more than the bare minimum about us. Our message is that we are not a thing, and we are doing nothing, let alone helping the Alpha Pack.”

Derek interrupted while his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Stiles smiled to Derek. “While you now know we’re a pack, it is actually a secret kept by the pack and my Dad. You’re the first to know otherwise. And, really, without the situation with the Alpha Pack and Cora, you would have no idea either.”

Furrowing his brows nearly into his eyes, Derek demanded: “What are you playing at here? Is this somehow a group full of Left Hands?!”

Stiles growled, low like a promise. His eyes flashed red.

Rather than watching the possible incoming violence, Peter took mercy on his nephew. “You should stop while you are not too far behind, Nephew. You ARE disrespecting a fellow Alpha. You are within HIS home and territory. His father is even the county Sheriff. Do you really want to start something? You won’t win.”

Cora stayed where she was quietly. It appeared she was taking the chance to assess the situation before bringing attention to herself.

Erica quietly came in the front door.

Openly disrespecting but not discounting Derek, Stiles turned to Erica once she was inside. “Erica, would you please take Cora out with you? It would be a nice chance for you to fill her in somewhat and help her relax.”

Cora looked to Peter, perking a questioning brow.

Peter gave her another genuine smile while nodding both that he understood and that it was safe to be with and around Erica.

Nodding, Cora stood up, still a bit dirty but physically okay so far. She moved to go with Erica as had been suggested.

Derek seemed to want to growl about Cora being shuffled away from them let alone his beta being bossed by another Alpha but took his Uncle’s words of warning. He opted instead to cross his arms while both girls went outside. “Okay, so, you’re an Alpha. As a result, if I am to respect you, why should I allow you in my territory?”

Peter rolled his eyes and nearly face palmed himself.

Lydia looked then to Stiles, perking a brow in question.

Stiles shook his head no. “Or we could deal with people dying first, like normal.”

“That mean we’re bringing in Scott to help?”

Lydia and Allison both were visibly holding back laughs.

Stiles shook his head no. Disappointed in Derek, Stiles rolled his eyes. “Okay, Allison, that’ll be your primary point of action after dinner. However, even with the murders being high priority, I want you to go and grab everyone’s orders that you can.”

Nodding, Allison headed out the back door to address her Alpha’s requests.

Turning to Peter, Stiles gently touched his wolf, running a hand up and down the arm closest. “After dinner, would you send out feelers and see what your contacts may be able to discover about the murders or the missing Alpha. Please, be careful to share nothing of value in return.”

Lovingly rolling his eyes, if there was such a thing, Peter kept his face in a clearly strained state of relaxation. “Would I ever?”

Trying to continue to be supportive and calm, Stiles ran his hand gently up and down the wolf’s back even as the others returned into the house. He stood and rubbed his cheek gently against Peter’s. “Okay, time for plans. Figure we can plan while waiting for the food X-jet to arrive.”

As he moved to walk past her, Stiles ran a hand over Lydia’s shoulders. “Boyd you’re on grabbing the extra chairs from the garage, please. Erica, could you please help him?”

Without hesitation, both of Stiles’ secret betas left to go grab chairs with Adrian trailing after like a lost puppy. That thought caused Scott to briefly come to mind, but quickly shaking it off, Stiles returned his attention to the present.

When passing Derek on the way to the kitchen, Stiles ran a hand over the Sourwolf’s still crossed forearm. Stiles did not bother to ask how Derek was doing as no matter what the Hale Alpha did or did not show, everyone knew this was intense for the all of the Hales. The best he could hope for was to provide a hint of comfort even for the technically rival Alpha in the territory.

Thinking of the Hales, Stiles looked to Peter to check how he was doing only to see Peter gently touching Cora’s face and even helping to wipe away her tears. Peter and Cora both were all about touch, Cora even reaching out to take Derek’s hand to hold.

Stiles suspected the whole revelation of another Hale alive was quite surreal.

Stiles then looked to Lydia who was already in the kitchen, pulling out sandwich fixings. He could not help but smile. “I’ll take care of that. Thank you though. I think we should bring out the planning notebooks. Would you go grab them from my room?”

Lydia nodded and headed upstairs to grab the notebooks.

Stiles smiled to her. However, after shaking his head some, Stiles’ face took on a more determined look without flashing his eyes. Those were eyes that had seen death a little took close, a little too much. He took out sandwich bags and a paper plate. They had started working toward going greener, but at the same time, Stiles did not want to waste what they already had. Next, he grabbed the sandwich bread and two butter knives. With the bread on the paper plate, Stiles opened up the plate-based mayo to begin spreading it on both pieces of bread as Lydia returned to just outside the kitchen with both notebooks in her arms and pen in her hand. “Lydia, I think for this who-done-it murder situation, we’re going to need to work together between the pack—”

Derek seemed to tune into what was being discussed. He did not leave his vigil over Cora as though with a blink of the eye she would be gone though. “You calling in Scott too?”

Stiles barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

Lydia didn’t even bother to try refraining as she flipped her hair to behind her in seeming judgement at the sentiment being repeated.

Stiles shook his head. “Not the plan currently. Right now, I think we all should help with researching, but Lydia and I should also reach out to our sources to maybe get some idea of what all we are dealing with.”

Derek tightened his crossed arms while still holding Cora’s hand at an odd angle.

Nearly the finish line on the sandwich he was working on that was looking to actually be two sandwiches being made, Stiles rolled his shoulders. “Derek, could you reach out to your New York connections about anything they may know?”

Derek seemed to relax if only the tiniest bit. “Gonna call Deaton?”

Stiles shrugged while stacking the two sandwiches and setting a snack bag of light salt potato chips on the plate beside them. “Not sure.”

Moving about, Stiles grabbed the saran wrap and wrapped up the plate and everything on it securely. “Cora? Do you happen to know anything about any part of this?”

------------------------------------------------

The McCall House…

In blue jeans, white sneakers, with wet hair and no shirt, Scott had a half-eaten slice of Meat Lover’s pizza sitting on his right thigh while he had a textbook on his left thigh leaned up against the table. He was failing chemistry, and if he couldn’t pull his grade up, he’d be off the lacrosse team. “Fuck, why do they make this so confusing?!”

Theo chuckled. He wore a red t-shirt, black cargo shorts, green with white tennis shoes, and his hair was stylishly swept up. He had his Math textbook and the problem sheets laid out on his lap as he sat on the beige beanbag chair in Scott’s room. “I don’t know why you care so much.”

Scott narrowed his eyes at Theo. “Just because you’re failing math and probably not going to stay on the team doesn’t mean I have to follow you in that spiral.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Ya, ya. You’re just wanting the new girl. End up hearing if she was going to try out for the team? You could always offer to help her.”

Scott sighed. “Yeah, she is. Why couldn’t you have brought up that idea earlier, preferably BEFORE Adrian did?”

Theo shrugged. “Was busy failing math.”

Scott grumbled but went back to slogging through the chemistry textbook.

About twenty minutes into his attempts to further understand atoms, electrons, and dimensional conversions in another textbook on a different topic, Scott heard his Mom’s car pull into the driveway. With a sigh, Scott stood up. In the process, he dropped the partial Meat Lover’s pizza slice onto the ground. “Fuck!”

Theo chuckled the moment he saw what had happened.

Groaning, Scott grabbed the dropped pizza and threw it into his bedroom trash beside his desk that he rarely sat at. He flipped off Theo and left the room to the chorus of Theo laughing at him.

Heading downstairs, Scott intentionally beat his Mom to the front door and opened it for her. He noted that she was carrying two paper bags of groceries. “Did you get the pizza bites I told you about?”

Melissa walked to the kitchen with Scott on her trail. She set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. “how about you go get the rest of the groceries from the car, please, and then you’ll know.”

Scott groaned. “Theo’s here, Mom.”

“Good. He can help you.”

“No, Mom. I’m busy. I don’t have time for this.”

“Scott, I am only going to say this one more time: go get the groceries from the car, now—with or without Theo’s help.”

As if she’d summoned him, Theo rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen. “Okay, Ms. McCall.”

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Very early the next morning…

In dark jeans, tube socks, and a white t-shirt, Stiles was somewhat disheveled in appearance with the early morning. He was standing within a large salt circle.

Within the circle, there was dried marjoram, which was masculine and represented air and protection. There was oatmeal sprinkled about in the circle as femininity and earth. Next put into the circle was dried basil that stood for the masculine, fire, and protection from evil. There was also some halved peaches for the feminine, water, and wishes. Lastly, but not least, there were dandelions within the circle “to call.”

Opposite Stiles in position, Lydia wore a light blue short skirt, pink heels, and a yellow-ish green blouse. Lydia’s eyes were closed with her arms stretched out overhead. She was doing her job of focusing to envision and guide her energies toward Stiles’ magic intention.

They were part way through an effort to open a doorway to allow through the creature Stiles had been conversing with for a few months through the internet.

Stiles took a measured half step forward, his arms also raised, but his eyes were open. “Unto this ground and through the presiding air, we reach out. We outstretch our arms to clasp those reaching for them to welcome them into this realm.”

Lydia opened her eyes. “Unto this ground and through the presiding air, we reach out. We outstretch our arms to clasp those reaching for them to welcome them into this realm.”

Each of them took one step forward and then a half step back, firmly declaring as one: “So shall it be!”

The bedroom light began to flicker wildly while a strange humming started. The sound grew and grew into the space like swarms of bees rushing at them. The overhead light shattered, plunging them into darkness.

At the same moment that the light shattered, a thump of landing sounded within the circle.

Before anyone could move to deal with the dark, the room was once again lit.

Looking to the light first, Stiles saw that the bulb was just finishing being fully put together by an invisible force. He perked a brow, intrigued.

Then, looking to the center of the circle, Stiles’ eyes landed on a short, hunchbacked man.

The man’s face was deeply wrinkled like a very, very old man. The man was just a bit taller than a tall toddler. His face was cut with a distinct, long, and slightly down pointed nose. His hair was scruffy, short and pointing in all directions while somewhat receding. His ears were pointed, long, and tilted down much like his nose. The man’s arms were long, implying likely long legs. He wore loose robes in earthen colors.

Stiles’ expression was one of sincere shock. He was struck silent.

Lydia tilted her head, clearly not yet sure what to think.

The man tilted his head up to look into Stiles’ eyes and made a flourish with his right hand. “Why hello, Stiles.”

Stiles grinned. “Levander ?”

The man grinned back. “Of course.”

Looking like he was barely holding himself even somewhat still, Stiles began tapping his hand lightly against his thigh to minimize his vibrating manic energies from excitement at using magic to not start talking a hundred miles a second. “Not to be disrespectful, but what are you Levander?”

Lydia looked at Stiles with judgement.

“A gnome. I am oddly close to the medieval European ideas of us. At least in appearance.”

Stiles could not help but fight staring into the gnome’s nearly crystalline opal-green eyes. Not only was the gnome mesmerizing, but his voice was a strangely airy baritone while his words were lilted like one might imagine a fairy’s to be.

Lydia began tapping her fingers against herself. Something was on her mind.

Stiles could practically feel the fire of the conversation he knew they would be having later. He just hoped he still had energy for it when the blow out came. He additionally hoped she would keep it to between the two of them and not blow in front of the pack. He was working too hard on that front to risk blowing it over a disagreement between them.

The gnome then asked, “Ready for what we had discussed?”

Stiles nodded, motioning to Lydia. “Yes, we even brought the map into the circle. How long are you going to be able to stay?”

As Stiles spoke, Lydia took the referenced map from her pocket. She knelt as she unfolded the map and laid it out for them on the ground.

Levander looked at the map. “I’m not sure. Time is different here, and it’s been a while since I was last here. Do you have the ashes?”

Stiles nodded. “yes, white oak and red oak ashes blended with mistletoe.”

Lydia added, “we also blessed it together and separately. Here and in the preserve. Why so many blessings?”

Levander nodded along with both of their words. He then spoke kindly in an educational tone, “Hopefully the layers of blessings and locations combined with the death symbolized by a banshee and the life symbolized by a spark will expand the range of the seeking spell and reinforce the magics contained within this salt-guarded circle.”

Levander knelt beside Lydia to run his hands over the map. He said nor did anything overtly magical but as he stood and backed away a few steps from the map, the piece of paper took on a glowing blue light and raised itself into the air to about waist height for Stiles.

Following the gnome’s actions, Lydia stood and backed away from the map as well.

All three of them adjusted their positions without words to be roughly the same distance from the map and each other, becoming points on a lineless triangle with the map hovering in the center.

Levander reaches out both of his hands toward the map, nodding to both Stiles and Lydia to do the same. The gnome looked to one and then the other. “Focus all of your inner energies to seek the lost Alpha. Focus as hard as you can without blacking out.”

All three of them focused for an eternity in a second before the teens in unison dropped to their knees, breathless. The map stopped glowing and dropped to the ground at the same time.

Panting, Lydia touched both her hands to the ground. “Did it work?”

Levander shook his head no.

Stiles ran both of his hands through his hair to both steady and calm himself as his eyes glowed red with a slight purple rim. “Okay. Why not? Is it due to our dropping to our knees?”

Levander shook his head again, rising to his feet. He walked to the map. He ran his hand over it and sighed. “Well, maybe the one we seek isn’t in the county, but it’s hard to say for sure.”

Motioning for Lydia and Stiles to move closer, Levander sat cross-legged beside the map. He then reached into one of his layers of robes and pulled out a small deck of dingy, well-worn cards. He shuffled the cards quietly, but methodically.

Both Lydia and Stiles moved and kneeled closer to both Levander and the map.

Levander laid down three cards face down in front of Stiles, three face down cards in front of Lydia, three face down cards on the map, and three more face down cards to the opposite side from the map. The gnome spoke as he laid down the cards: “Three cards for an Alpha leading, three for his Left Hand, Three for the future action, and three for another player in the situation known or unknown.”

Slowly, Levander flipped over one card at a time. The three cards in front of Stiles were the King of Pentacles, Knight of Pentacles, and Seven of Wands. The three in front of Lydia were Strength, Nine of Wands, and Queen of Swords. The three cards on the map were the High Priestess, the Hierophant, and the Star. Last but by far not least, the cards to the side for another player in the situation were the Emperor, the Lovers, and King of Swords.

Levander tapped the tip of his nose a time or six in apparent thought.

Notes:

Comments & kudos feed my plot bunnies and are appreciated <3

Chapter 7: Introducing

Summary:

Not enough sound. Too much blood scent. A mind fraying.

Notes:

***Trigger warning*** Depictions of torture. If it squibs you out, feel free to skip it as that is what's occurring for the hole chapter. It all plays into the character's state of mind, but no other key plot aspects are present I think.

Sorry I got this up late and it being short. Might post more soon, but idk for sure.

Chapter 7

In the next county over from Beacon Hills…

Deucalion was struggling for breath. He had no idea how long he had been hanging upside down in the darkness. His wrists and legs were secured with chains; however, his arms and hands overall were just limp hanging down as his legs were bound by ropes and chains to a structural beam high above him.

He felt like everything in him was weighing down and crushing his lungs. He did have an IV in his arm—Gerard’s efforts to keep his toy alive—but his healing was still impaired. There was just too much Wolf’s Bane in the room and himself.

Stuck without sound, the ground, his eyes, and his nose overwhelmed by the smell of wolves’ blood all around him with the Wolf’s Bane, Duke was struggling to keep himself together. He kept trying to recite things he knew, like the color of the sun and the feeling of cartilage breaking in his hands as he shifted forms, to retain what of himself he could in this hell hole.

He found his mind wandering, desperate to distract from the worsening breathing difficulty and pain. Duke could not help but think back to an unknown amount of time ago:

Duke was in the preserve near Beacon Hills. His fellow Alpha packmates Ethan and Aiden were with him, or maybe not? It felt like forever since he was free even though his being blinded forever ago felt like seconds ago. He knew Kali and Ennis returned to him, complaining that someone had gotten to Derek’s stray pack members before they could. After then, his memory was a blurry smear of growling, Wolf’s Bane, pained cries, running, and howls. Then everything was darkness. Everything was right here, right this moment. Everything was so long and so short to his mind all at once as he felt himself fraying at the edges.

Then there was sound again. He could hear Gerard’s rickety cart of torture and the old man’s steps as one long drag predicting the impending pain.

When the cart came to a stop, Duke was unsurprised to hear Gerard laughing at him—it was far from the first time and unlikely to be the last as the dim overhead light was audibly flicked on.

“Poor alpha is all red. Enough blood in your brain to give the bite?”

Deucalion just growled in response, trying to focus on the sound being back and his pain from previous wounds to prevent himself from showing his true state to the old hunter.

Gerard laughed more. “What a shock. No worries. Everyone has their limit. I’ll find yours if I have to turn you inside out to do it.”

Duke did not bother to respond. The world was spinning enough for him already. It would only make it harder for him to muscle through this. He had to survive. He had to get to the part wherein he bathed in the blood and viscus of his enemy.

Then the sudden searing pain as a red-hot iron poker was thrust through his chest. Then another. Then another. Again and again and again. He lost track quickly as rod after rod pierced him and cauterized the freshly made wound to seal the rod into him.

When he finally got a break from being repeatedly stabbed and sealed, Duke could feel that the items forced within him created a loose circle around his heart. Even though he felt fear, he was near laughing with the weight of his thorough lack of control, lack of agency in the situation.

A long way beyond hopeless, Deucalion could not hold back any longer as he laughed hysterically with tears running from his sightless eyes while Gerard stabbed dowl-like silver tipped weapons into his arms and legs.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos help my plot bunnies <3

Chapter 8: Pentacles & Smoke

Summary:

Lay the cards. Share. Fight. A shot.

Notes:

Sorry this is so late getting up. I'm trying to be really regular with this, but things happen. Thank you so much for your patience!

Stiles' bedroom....

Slowly, Levander flipped over one card at a time to hide the black backs of the cards and reveal their messages. The three cards in front of Stiles were the King of Pentacles, Knight of Pentacles, and Seven of Wands. The three in front of Lydia were Strength, Nine of Wands, and Queen of Swords. The three cards on the map were the High Priestess, the Hierophant, and the Star. Last but by far not least, the cards to the side for another player in the situation were the Emperor, the Lovers, and King of Swords.

Levander tapped the tip of his nose a time or six in apparent thought. He then ran his hand over the Hierophant card on the map. “The cards on the map overall have a message of protection. I also think that there could be magic involved as well, particularly with the appearance of the Star.”

Stiles stopped tapping his hand against anything. His entire being was paying the utmost attention. “So, the star card means magic?”

The gnome shook his head. “Not always. Each card has a series of meanings, but the cards and their meanings work together and apart to create a context of meaning. This is the holy trinity.”

Lydia tilted her head. “Because of Christianity?”

Levander smiled. “Its name comes from that, from when the Church had not yet taken a hard stand on the laying of the cards. But it is more than that. Yes, it can be the holy spirit, Mother Mary, and the priest; however, it originally meant something closer to the male and female energies incarnate in the higher powers and the magic held between us and them.”

Nodding, Lydia gently touched the map. “So, together they are protection?”

The gnome also nodded. “Yes, together they are VERY powerful protection. But more than that, there is an aspect of divinity, of righteous protection in this case. The reasonings therein have the chance of a purity one does not see too often. Also, as all three of those cards are depicted as people, there is a chance that beyond protection—they could be individuals who need protection, who are protectors, or even tied to who are to be protected from. It could even be a combination of those meanings. Be mindful, the cards are never too explicit in how they lay.”

He then turned his attention to the cards in front of Lydia. “Now these cards? Strength may seem obvious as being strength, but it is more than just strength. It is a peaceful, well-thought strength. It’s inner strength that can overcome more than one may realize. When paired with the Nine of Wands, strength and perseverance are going to be in your near future. And that perseverance is crucial. The Queen of Swords. She could be you. In your time of perseverance, you may need to be logical. Let go of the emotional to focus on the concrete and practical. It could provide a foundation for strength.”

The gnome then touched Lydia, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “No worries, child. You will hold strong.”

Letting Lydia go, Levander looked to Stiles whose brow was furrowed with the news about Lydia that had been shared.

Stiles reached out to pull Lydia closer to him, rubbing her arm soothingly, aware that while neither her expression nor body language changed, she was worried. He then looked back to the gnome they had helped to bring here.

Levander nodded faintly to Stiles. “You have a lot of royalty in your cards, but you also have a fight coming. The pentacles are sturdy earth. You are reliable and stand by both your efforts to be a good provider and are protective of what you consider yours. Also, with having the King and Knight of Pentacles, while you are mature, you have also learned from another male role model. You may be called upon to protect those you consider yours.”

Caressing the Seven of Wands, Levander seemed to hesitate. “While you are strong and will fight for what you believe, the price may be more than you are ready or even able to pay.”

Stiles took a breath before staring into the gnome’s eyes. “To protect my pack? I would give everything I have, even my life.”

Levander nodded. “The other. The one who could be an ally, enemy, or both is quite complicated.”

The gnome ran a hand over the Lovers card. “The Emperor is another fiercely protective card. He exerts his control over others one way or another. He is strong in a more explicit way, armored to prevent vulnerability of any kind. However, the lovers are both the open vulnerability of love and strong moral-based choices, maybe tests.”

Stiles had an idea of who it may be. “And the King of Swords?”

“Domineering, clever, and active. The active is not always towards their strong morals or goals. There is deceit and overly valuing small things like slights. The King of Swords is a very dangerous card, especially within this context.”

Lydia looked to the cards and then those with her. “With all of this information, how does it help us locate the missing Alpha?”

Levander sighed. “It helps by clarifying the path before you. Additionally, it shows a longer path ahead. I think with this we should wait for a better time or method to seek the lost Alpha.”

Stiles growled low at the seeming dead end.

The gnome tilted his head faintly, but not enough to be submitting to the Alpha.

Lydia cleared her throat at Stiles.

After rolling his shoulders a time or two to release some tension, Stiles ran a hand through his hair. “So, you’re saying we need a different ritual, spell?”

Levander nodded. “Yes, and it may be of value to include some of your wolves, especially any from his pack. They could have stronger connections to the Alpha. That kind of connection could really open more potent avenues. Seek options that are pack, Alpha specific to maybe get a better lead.”

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An hour later…

Stiles was sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor. He wore baggy jeans, tube socks, and a black loose t-shirt. Both of his palms rested on his knees, Stiles closed his eyes to meditate.

Taking slow deep breathes in through his nose and out through his slightly parted lips, he focused internally as much as he could. It had been a while since he had intentionally interacted with the wolf spirit he got with his Alpha spark months before. However, Ennis’ wolf may know things that could help with Deucalion’s rescue.

Sinking deeper and deeper into his own mind, Stiles reached out for the wolf seeking to pull him closer. Just as he felt his fingers mentally brush the course of fur of the wolf, Stiles’ felt an idea sparked and shared.

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The next morning at school…

Lydia was slow today. All the energy and sleep-free time she spent doing magic with Stiles the day before was wearing on her still.

She wore maroon jeans, white ballet flats, and a crisp white button-down shirt with a light blue sweater over it. Her hair was twirled up into a form of bun that had a pencil stuck in it. While wearing makeup, Lydia was wearing less than was normal for her beyond what she had done to cover up her lack of sleep.

Holding a couple textbooks and notebook in her arms, Lydia was walking down the hall to her locker. She needed to swap textbooks.

From behind, Lydia felt Allison’s slender but muscled arms wrap around her waist. Lydia leaned into her girlfriend with a soft sigh of pleasure at having her girlfriend right there. She couldn’t deny that Allison being near caused her to feel perfectly safe every time.

Allison kissed her girlfriend’s cheek. “You okay? You seem in a haze.”

Lydia smiled. “Yeah. Just tired. Stiles and I had too much to do yesterday.”

Nodding, Ally asked, “Is that connected to our special meeting during our free period?”

Turning in her girlfriend’s arms, Lydia leaned in to kiss her girlfriend softly. “Mhmm. But let Stiles explain it. Somehow he still has plenty of energy despite his daily run with Erica.”

Allison was also wearing jeans, but hers were black. She wore a light blue tunic tank top with a black vest over it. She wore ankle boots as well wherein both girls knew a knife was stashed.

After each of them dealt with things from their previous class, both Lydia and Allison headed out to the running track. They held hands the whole way, enjoying their freedom to do so.

Once there, Lydia could see the larger than normal group gathered on the bleachers. Not only was there Stiles, but Erica in leather pants, black sneakers, and a red t-shirt. Then, there was Boyd in black jeans, sneakers and white t-shirt under a burgundy pull over. Plus, Ally and herself. Adrian was there in light jeans and a gray t-shirt. Jackson and the twins were also there. More shocking though was that both Peter and Derek were there. It explained at least why they were on the bleachers for the track farthest from the school and prying eyes.

In baggy jeans, sneakers, and a loose Wolverine graphic t-shirt with a blue open flannel on over it, Stiles was jittery. There was no better word for it. He was pacing along the dirt in front of the bleachers while tapping out a different rhythm with each of his hands against his hips. It looked like if he kept at it he’d scar the earth with the line and create a dent in himself.

Once within hearing range, Stiles stopped and turned to them. “Thank goodness you are okay.”

Allison looked confused as did many of the others. Except for Peter and Derek that was. Peter looked his typical trouble in dark pants, expensive leather shoes, and a blood red v-neck t-shirt. Derek’s brows were screaming his frustration at being there at all.

Lydia sat on the bleachers near where Stiles had been pacing.

Ally sat beside her girlfriend.

Stiles then turned to the whole group on the bleachers. “I know you all don’t know why I made a big deal about this, but it’s important. Very important really.”

Wearing jeans, tennis shoes, a black t-shirt, and a burgundy button-down over his t-shirt, Jackson frowned. “Get to it, Stilinski.”

Stiles flipped Jackson off. “Based on some work Lydia and I did last night, I needed to speak to everyone regardless of pack affiliation. Whoever has Duke is likely using magic, not just his normal dirty tricks. For those who do not know, we’re dealing with hunters. Some of the worst.”

In black pants, a blue long-sleeve shirt, leather jacket, and tennis shoes, Derek and his eyebrows were at attention.

Stiles didn’t let the extra brow focus deter him. “Also, to find Duke, we’re gonna need wolves involved.”

Wearing jeans, sneakers, and a gray v-neck t-shirt, Aiden huffed. “We’ve already tried that. We spent weeks trying to track him down.”

“Did you leave the county?”

Wearing jeans, sneakers, and a blue v-neck t-shirt, Ethan tilted his head faintly. “No. there was no reason to. There was nothing indicating that, especially not scent.”

Nodding, Stiles motioned toward the twins. “Hence part of why I think magic. But the need for wolves is not tracking. I need ALL your help in a ritual, spell attempt to find Duke. If he has left the county especially but overall, just the more help, the better.”

Adrian raised his hand. “Uh, all of us? I mean, not to shit on your cupcake, but wouldn’t just Pinkie and the Brain be plenty? I mean, he was their Alpha afterall.”

Both twins growled angrily at Adrian.

Stiles brushed off the growling while looking to Adrian. “More the merrier it would seem. I need the wolves within each of you to help me call to a lost wolf. It may be the best and honestly, maybe the only chance to get him back.”

Jackson then rolled his eyes. “And who is this ‘Duke’ you’re talking about?”

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Later that afternoon, Stilinski home…

Stiles, Lydia, Allison, and Erica were all sitting at the dining room table working on their homework. Lydia and Stiles were working on AP Chemistry notes for the upcoming test. Erica was fumbling her way through her math problem sheets, grumbling under her breathe about the uselessness of it all. Allison was working on reading over and editing her paper for Ms. Blakes English class.

Everyone had agreed to take some time to think about the ritual some before they were all going to meet in the preserve to try again to track down Delucion.

Suddenly something was thrown through the front window of the Stilinski home. It only took seconds for everyone to immediately realize there was a problem as the item thrown through the window began releasing large amounts of smoke.

Allison was the quickest to act, pushing herself out of her chair while grabbing her backpack to pull out her weapons—a few knives and two guns. She shoved a knife into Erica and Lydia’s hands. She gave Stiles one of the guns. “We’re under attack! Find cover!”

Lydia accepted the knife and slid down to then slide under the table as it was the first cover that came to mind.

Erica looked at the knife, but it meant nothing to her as she began coughing. There was Wolf’s Bane in the smoke based on the bit of black already forming around Erica’s mouth and nose.

Stiles, seeing that Erica was coughing up bits of blood already, recognized that it was likely more than normal smoke. He quickly pulled off his flannel. Rather than going for cover, Stiles grabbed Erica and knelt them both down beside each other.

Erica kept a hold of the knife in one hand while trying to cover her mouth with the other.

Stiles gently smacked away her hand even as he heard at least a few people entering his home from the front and back entrances. He mentally cast a small spell on his flannel before wrapping it around Erica as a mask, tying it on. “Keep it on.”

Stiles then looked around himself, noting the darkness of the smoke and that it just kept coming. He found himself grateful that his Dad had insisted that he teach Stiles what he could about self defense and police skills since he was an Alpha dealing with monsters. If only his Dad could see who the real monsters were—not the werewolves, but their hunters. His Dad was better than initially, but still seemed hesitant.

Stiles took Lydia’s hand, pulling her close to whisper to her before taking her hand up to touch his shoulder. “Stay low and don’t make a sound.”

Trusting Allison to take care of herself while keeping an ear out for it she needed help, Stiles took Erica’s hand too and stood with them. He put each of his friends’ hands on his shoulder and he raised his weapon and began moving quietly and slowly.

He closed his eyes briefly against the smoke that stung them to firmly envision his house’s layout. Upon having it in his mind’s eyes, Stiles led both girls carefully toward where he knew the stairs were while still being mindful of each step to not trip any of them up. Feeling like he was close to the steps,
Stiles paused and kicking out a foot a time or two until he connected with the stairs.

Not bothering with steeling himself, Stiles turned and guided Erica and Lydia to hold hands. Stiles then took Lydia’s other hand while still holding his weapon firmly. With them all linked by hands as a chain, Stiles led them up the stairs. Once on the second floor, he did not let go of Lydia’s hand even as the smoke was no where near so dense up here yet. He took both girls into his bedroom. He let go of Lydia’s hand to grab his phone from his pocket. He then gave Lydia his cellphone from his pocket, aware hers may still be on the dining room table.

Lydia accepted the phone.

Stiles whispered to her: “Call Argent. Give him an idea of what is going on. Tell him to hurry. Be quiet though. We don’t want them finding you up here. And please open my window.”

Lydia squeezed his hand twice to signal her understanding.

Stiles then took Erica’s hand. “We’ll keep them busy.”

With Erica’s hand in his, Stiles led her with him down the stairs and to where they had been on the other side of the dining room table. He then got them tighter to the wall near a window. He took a breath. He closed his eyes for a moment to re-solidify his home’s layout in his mind.

At the same time, he could hear one of the likely hunters getting close. Then a CRACK.

He turned suddenly to behind him where the sound had come from. The sight that met him made Stiles show a bit of smile: Erica had grabbed and snapped the neck of the hunter that had gotten close from behind them.

Stiles ran a hand down Erica’s arm to both comfort and show his approval.

He then turned and opened the window near them as much as he could.

Erica then took a hold of his shoulder like before.

He gave a quick nod that likely went unseen as the house was more smoke-clogged by the second and seeing even before him was getting much harder moving around the table. As he entered the kitchen that had also filled with the smoke already, he intentionally knocked over some dishes on the counter into the sink. He wanted them to know where he was so that he could keep them away from Lydia and offer Ally the possible chance to catch the men in his house by surprise.

Just after having knocked down the dishes, Stiles heard a combatant rushing his way. Stiles did a quick turn while shoving Erica behind him. Once she was behind him, Stiles crouched down, noticing that while up was thick with smoke but lower down he may be able to see a bit of the person’s shoes. The moment he saw the bit of shoes, Stiles fired off three shots directly into the smoke tilted up in the direction of the combatant hoping he wounded if not killed them.

A sudden yell rang through the room like Stiles’ shooting hit someone while also hearing someone burst in through the front door.

Notes:

Kudos and comments are deeply appreciated <3

Chapter 9: Crimes of the Father

Summary:

A father. Blood. Trust. A family.

Notes:

Since I've been late two chapters in a row and thrown off my rhythm, I'm just going to post two chapters tonight. Enjoy!

Even though he had shot one person he was sure was not a friendly, Stiles knew this was not going to end well for any of them if he could not get the smoke out of the house. He stood, reached for and grasped Erica’s hand. He led it to have her in front of him. With her in front of him but them still touching with the side of his leg against her as he turned toward where he knew the kitchen window must be over the sink. He set his weapon down on the counter as quietly as he could then reached out for where the window should be.

He heard another person approaching, drawn by the gun fire or perhaps to further investigate the dishes knocked over sound.

Stiles quickly gripped Erica’s hand and crouched them down while grabbing his weapon. They waited until the person was close enough for Stiles to vaguely make out one of their shoes. It looked too big to be Allison’s narrow foot. As a result, Stiles took a breath and them pressed his weapon to the top of that shoe as he pulled the trigger.

They all heard a resounding “FUCK!”

Hearing the male voice that he did not recognize, Stiles aimed up from the foot and shot twice.

The shots had to have been at least somewhat successful with no verbal response and the body dropping to the ground.

After remaining crouched for a moment or two, Stiles stood up while leading Erica to do the same.

Not wanting to speak any further yet and give away their position if any others were heading their way, Stiles gently squeezed once Erica’s hand. He hoped she would know he was trying to check in on her.

Erica gently squeezed his hand back.

Stiles then moved them tighter to the counter before he turned as he was doing before to find the window he knew had to be there.

All the while noise of a fight and pained cries were suddenly a soundtrack to Stiles and Erica’s actions.

Once he had ahold of the window, he quickly opened it all the way before picking back up his weapon. With the window open, he reached out to Erica again to verify what he already knew in her being there. He then put his hand on her shoulder and started moving backwards. Once he had literally walked himself into the back door, Stiles let go of Erica’s shoulder while keeping his leg touching hers and he opened the back door one handed.

Now that the door and window had been opened, Stiles turned back to Erica, found her hand. He took her hand in his as he moved to once again be in front of her. he then guided her hand to be on his shoulder once again. In moving quietly forward, Stiles kept them tight to the counter and then the wall.

The slow movement forward took them toward where they could hear what sounded like the twack of arrows.

As he was leading Erica toward edging around the dining room table with the intent to edge their way into the living room, Stiles stopped short.

Allison’s voice rang out clear. “We should be clear.”

At that, Stiles still moved with caution into the living room heading for the voice he had heard, grateful that the cross flow of clear air between his bedroom and the kitchen and dining room windows was starting to cut the smoke finally.

Once he saw a vague lean outline, Stiles reached out to them only to touch warm tacky fluid.

Before he could respond, Stiles was swept up into an Ally-cat hug. “Everyone okay?”

At the same time, Stiles got a look at who must have burst through the front door: Cora.

As Stiles opened his mouth to let her know people were okay Ethan and Aiden stumbled in the open back door. They certainly looked far worse for wear.

Ethan let himself lean against the kitchen counter as Aiden outright collapsed to the ground. It appeared that they too had been attacked as they both had black around their mouths, noses, and from bullet wounds on them.

Stiles called up to Lydia. “We’re gonna need help. Please grab first aid.”

Able to better see, Stiles took Erica’s hand in his. “Please help Lydia get the stuff while opening up all the other upstairs windows.”

Erica nodded and ran to do as asked.

----------------------

Around 6 minutes later…

Derek and Peter too slipped in through the back door just in time to hear a loud pounding on the Stilinski resident’s front door. Adrian and Boyd followed. All four had visible bullets wounds as well as Wolf’s Bane poisoning marks around their mouths and noses like Erica.

A beat or two, and before anyone can answer the door, Chris Argent bursts in with his drawn handgun. The man in less than five seconds was in the residence and ready to shoot.

Stiles put his hands up from where he was knelt beside Ethan and Aiden. “Ally’s okay. We just needed some help.”

In blue jeans, a black t-shirt with a flannel olive button down over it, combat boots, and a black hooded light winter coat, Argent sighed and lowered his weapon. Notably, he did not holster his weapon.

Stiles continued his efforts to clean, burn, and bandage the twin’s wounds. “Look, we’re not…you were not called to be threatened OR attacked. We just need help. Could you please go upstairs to get a full update from Ally while I deal with this? Ally’s there. We just need help dealing with this mess before we call 911 about the break in. Right this second though, I need to deal with Wolf’s Bane burns.”

Argent holstered his weapon. He has a distinctly unimpressed expression on his face, completed with his five o’clock shadow and no-nonsense slate blue eyes. Looking around, the man no doubt saw the seven dead bodies strewn around the residence. “Clean up? What is going on here?”

Stiles sighed, continuing to apply healing herbs and bandages to Ethan and Aiden’s wounds. “Long story short? We were attacked by hunters as were the twins. We’re still trying to nail down if the others are okay.”

He motioned to both Derek and Peter. “They were attacked too.”

Argent frowned. “Why?”

Growling, Peter was short: “Because we were trying to help a wolf escape from the clutches of your father. We were kicking over rocks to find where he took the wolf to re-victimize him.”

Chris appeared to be holding in a harsh response to the wolf. “That’s not possible. He died, remember?”

Stiles now growled, silencing the room as he kept growling and stood. He then looked to Chris, barely refraining from flashing his red eyes. That was a secret he was not ready to let Chris in on just yet. “Do not dare play dumb. We both know that he is alive. Even if I did not have eyewitnesses, I’ve already known that he was not dead. You checked him into an old age home under hospice care for his cancer.”

Continuing to advance on Argent, Stiles popped his fingers while eerily smooth in motion even as he came to a stop only a foot from Chris. The whole time Stiles never broke eye contact, even to blink. “Now, the only real question is if you knew he’s not there anymore or not.”

Chris maintained a solid expression. At no point did the hunter faulter. ”How? I have eyes on him at all times.”

Still unblinking, Stiles still gave Chris a look that was drilling right through the man. “Peter?”

The older wolf’s grin could be heard in his voice. “Yeah, he’s telling you the truth… This time.”

Stiles rolled his shoulders. “Okay, well, he is out. He currently has Delucion, the once peaceful wolf he betrayed and blinded.”

Chris crossed his arms over his chest. “The Alpha of the Alpha Pack. The Demon Wolf.”

Sighing, Stiles turned his back on the hunter to return to working to help Ethan and Aiden. “One and the same. Your father made him a monster for wanting peace. Now, because the wolfman attained power, your father has once again caught him. Turns out, Gerard was also behind the witches four months ago. He’s been busy while his body double enjoyed the care of hospice.”

Letting his hands fall to his sides, Chris was visibly struggling to wrap his mind around all the gray area as well as cause and effect. “So, the twins…they’re from the Alpha Pack too, I take it?”

Stiles nodded, still not sparing the hunter a glance. “Yes, and under my protection for an agreed upon amount of time.”

“Decided to go dark? To be killer too?”

Stiles dropped what he was holding as he quickly stood and turned on the hunter who reached for his weapon once more. “What is your problem? Scared your Daddy turned me into a monster like he did to Delucion? Like he did to Peter? Or do you think it was completely justified that he tortured me to get back at and hurt my friend? OR do you somehow think that Scott getting wrapped up with witches YOUR FATHER sent here about to sacrifice his OWN BETAS was right? OR that YOUR SISTER with YOUR FATHER’S help burning down a house full of innocent wolves and humans, children and all was right? ‘Cause if I’m evil then what the fuck are they? What are you?! I am just trying my best to protect those I can from that monster! He has hurt and affected EVERYONE in this room. He has killed, tortured, and scarred in one way or another EVERYONE here. Hell, if it weren’t for his actions, several people in this house would have no clue about the supernatural AT ALL! Now, you can stay and help or get the FUCK out of my house, GOT IT?!”

Derek looked stunned that someone was so explicitly clear in their efforts as well as not letting themself be run over with other people’s opinions of his actions.

Peter just kept grinning. The man looked like the cat that ate not just the canary, but a whole aviary.

Lydia was knelt beside the twins on the opposite side from where Stiles had been. She was still cleaning and burning Wolf’s Bane out of wounds on both Aiden and Ethan. While working though, she still rolled her eyes nearly every time Chris spoke. “Chris, leave or not, but we’re on a time limit. Help or get out.”

Peter chuckled. “Lydia, my dear, I get now completely why Stiles calls you his Goddess.”

Chris groans. But rather than verbally spare more, Chris put away his handgun once again then took his coat off and draped it over the couch. He then rolled up his sleeves. He then just went upstairs and paused. “Why is Allison in the attic?”

Stiles shook his head as he once again moved back to helping with the twins. “Physically, yes, but she did kill four hunters. One of them was quite young. She’s taking a moment to deal with that. Cora’s helping her right now.”

Sighing, Chris asked, “Cora?”

Stile nodded even as Aiden growled in such a way as to nearly be a whimper as the young human pried two deep bullets from near his lower spine with Erica’s help. Stiles continued, “The reason these guys have our protection, they brought us Cora Hale. You know, Derek’s sister.”

Chris paled and had the decency to make it his business to shut up and go straight upstairs.

Once the hunter was on the second floor moving toward the attic, Stiles turned his head to make eye contact with Peter. “Make sure he at no point tries to turn Ally on us or get information out of her beyond what she willing shares about what happened today or mess with Cora.”

Peter kept grinning, but he did nod.

Minutes later Chris was on his way back downstairs, followed by Cora. He looked angrier than any of them present had any memory of seeing. “You should’ve asked for help.”

Peter laughed.

Chris gave Peter a severe look. “He and his hurt my baby girl.”

Peter grew serious and opened his mouth to point out how it felt for him with his whole family murdered in cold blood.

Stiles cut him off. “You have no idea the damage they could’ve caused, have caused.”

Argent had the decency to both flinch at the implications and guilted over his own actions being wilder than the creatures he hunts.

After leaving Lydia to what she was doing to move into the kitchen, Stiles began mixing herbs as well as making smoothies, one at a time. “Chris, we need you to on the down low clear out most of these bodies. The two or three I shot and killed need to stay but the rest need to be gone. We’re calling in the break in once things are a little less supernatural-y and more this is fucked up in a human way.”

Chris moved to be in the dining room to be closer probably.

Stiles pushed a handwritten page with his recipe for the healing smoothie into Argents hands. “If you need help moving the bodies, we’ve got the muscle.”

Chris nodded. He could see that three of the seven should stay but the rest had to get gone. “Getting these out during the day isn’t a good plan. We should stash the bodies in the attic, and I’ll help move them tonight after dark.”

Stiles nodded. “Peter? Would you please help him moved the bodies?”

Peter got moving.

Turning away from Argent and Peter, Stiles threw together herbs, magic with key healing powders, and water to create a green paste. “Boyd? You feel confident helping Erica for me?”

“Yes.”

Once he had a moderate amount made, Stiles separated it into smaller containers. From there, he added a couple more ingredients and stirred the mixture into a green cream. “Okay. Boyd outright take over for Erica. Erica, please help me start moving this stuff upstairs. We need to be quick about this.”

Stiles set the containers of green cream on the counter. He left them for a moment, and he grabbed a few more glasses out of the kitchen cabinet and set them out near the blender for later. After counting to make sure there were enough glasses, he got more whiskey tumblers for healing ‘shots’ of potion. He also took the large pitcher of potion out of the fridge, setting it on the counter. Stiles took the containers of the green cream he made from the counter. He gave one to Lydia to for her to use on both Aiden and Ethan while he took the other two into the livingroom. “Derek, it is finally your turn. Sorry you had to wait. Cora, could you please grab the pitcher of potion on the counter and pour about a shot’s worth into each tumbler glass?”

Cora got up from the couch without hesitation, heading to do as she had been asked to. “Sure.”

Perking a questioning brow, Derek took a sniff of the green cream. He made a sour face, but he did not stop Stiles.

The spark gently spread the cream over the outer parts of Derek’s mouth and nose that had Wolf’s Bane burns. Once every bit was covered, Stiles set aside the container of cream. He then went back to the kitchen to grab one of his Dad’s whiskey tumblers that Cora had poured a chunky green shot of potion in.

Stiles brought the tumbler to Derek. “Take this to the bathroom sink upstairs. Take the shot and gargle it briskly as one would do mouth wash. Keep going until the chunks have dissolved. Then spit it out.”

Assuming the wolf would do as told, Stiles moved on to Peter who had a body draped over his shoulder to go up to the attic and showed Peter the green cream. “For you when you’re done”

Stiles did not need to use his Alpha voice. He knew his pack knew he would not let them get hurt if he could help it. Stiles did the exact same series of explainations with every wolf there, telling them to take a sip of their smoothie and the chunky shot as well as showing and explaining the green cream. The last of which to be shown was Derek. The man looked a bit squirrely as though he was half ready to run at this point. After handing Derek a glass of green smoothie, Stiles ran a hand up Derek’s remaining arm up to over his shoulder and to gently grip the back of Derek’s neck.

Derek was stiff until Stiles touched him like a loved and supported beta. Where normally he may fight such actions, Derek seemed to feel safer with the familiar support behavior when wounded. He leaned slightly into the contact before drinking down the smoothie that was not half bad with its earthy grass and ginger flavor.

With a faint yawn, Stiles left Derek to his sister’s capable hands.

Then, Stiles moved to getting Peter’s tumbler containing a green chunky shot and put it up in Stiles’ bedroom. After repeating the directions in his mind, Stiles moved to, with Erica’s help, start moving all of the creams and shots of green into their prepared state and then up to his room in groupings for how it is to be taken. The young spark returned to the kitchen to grab the last two tumblers with green chunky shots in them while Erica grabbed the last of the green creams.

Once Lydia was done with putting cream on both twins, Stiles gave them each a shot in a tumbler too and repeated the directions again. He sent them all to the same upstairs bathroom, figuring keeping the wolves and the non-pack hunter separate would be best. “And stay up there when done. Head into my Dad’s room. It’s the one that smells like whiskey.”

Then, even though Derek was clearly not done having his wounds addressed even with some of the green cream on the man having dried already, Stiles looked to them no less firmly. “Take that whole project upstairs into my bedroom. Derek knows which it is, Cora. The cops don’t need to know you’re here.”

Chris grumped his way downstairs, the bodies moved up into the attic.

Peter too, close behind the hunter, came downstairs.

Stiles then walked up to them as they were gathering things and ran a hand along Cora’s arm supportively. “It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Stiles could see in Chris’ eyes the realization that Stiles already knew that most of the wolves were just kids. Most were just in high school. Even Derek was young in his twenties. Peter had lost six years of his life to a coma that he faced alone. Everyone there was young and damaged, looking for safety, looking for family even.

Chris rubbed the back of his neck, having relaxed some. “Well, not sure what your plan is now, but I have one if you don’t.”

Smiling while giving a nod of approval, Sties walked over to Peter to rub a comforting hand up Peter’s back gently, Stiles moved toward Boyd. “Think with Peter’s help you could get Ethan and Aiden upstairs?”

The young man nodded. “Yeah, we’ll have to be careful. Lydia’s not down pulling out bullets yet.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay, take over for her, please, once their upstairs. Also, make sure to deal with your wounds too. This is no time for us to fuck up by not caring for everyone.”

Boyd nodded then motioned to Peter for him to join.

While Boyd was hoisting a groaning Ethan over his shoulder, Peter moved to get Aiden. “Never knew I was manual labor.”

Stiles chuckled. “Yeah, can’t skate by on just your looks in this crew.”

Peter grinned, following Boyd upstairs with Aiden in his arms.

Then, Stiles looked around to those still downstairs, “Lydia, Chris, Allison, and I need to stay down here. Everyone else needs to go upstairs and be as quiet as possible. We’re gonna call the cops and we’ll be all who were here and Chris showed.”

Perking a brow, Lydia looked to her Alpha, but she did not say anything. Instead, she watched as Allison came back downstairs looking frustrated.

Putting his hands up, Stiles could not even pretend to be uber positive right this second. “I get it, my goddess, but we have to call it in. It’s the only way this time.”

Notes:

Hope you all are enjoying the story so far!

Chapter 10: Damage control & Bullying

Summary:

Argent. True Alpha spark. Theo assault.

Notes:

*trigger warning* Implied rape in this chapter.

After the police had arrived as well as his Dad and had asked their questions of him, Stiles quietly slipped to out back. He knew the others hidden upstairs would be quiet and that the police had no reason to go upstairs since everything happened on the first floor. Add on that his Dad had already “conveniently” had to go upstairs for something and checked that no one was upstairs further gave reason to believe the cops would not discover the others.

Running both hands through his hair once outside alone with the door shut behind him, Stile worked to try to get his hands to stop shaking as he couldn’t seem to convince himself it was just for show with the cops instead of his anxiety. In part to distract, Stiles pulled out his phone and called Deaton.

Quickly, the newer wolf answered. “Hello?”

While rolling his shoulders, Stiles said, “Are you okay?”

There was a pause before Deaton spoke. “Why of course you can bring your puppy in today.”

Stiles barely contained a growl. “Are there hunters there?”

“No, sir. Your Scotty dog should be just fine here for a while.”

Stiles ran a hand through his hair and then ended the call. “Goddamn it, Scott! You have such horrible timing. At least, they weren’t attacked.”

After running a hand through his hair again, Stiles looked briefly around the backyard. He then spoke lowly but aloud with the awareness that the werewolves would hear him “With Scott there, we’re going to do this without Deaton for now. We need to find out where the leak in information is as well as find Duke.”

Seconds later, Peter dropped down to the ground near Stiles. Peter stepped closer to Stiles, touching his Alpha’s wrist briefly before nodding. Keeping his voice low, Peter said, “I have an idea. There is a ritual that could be used to find and follow an Alpha spark.”

Stiles looked suddenly to Peter, surprised some at him suddenly being down there with him. He took a steadying breath before addressing the wolf. “Hope the cops didn’t hear you. And why not say anything before now?”

Not showing remorse, Peter had a half smile without even bothering to point out how quiet he had been. “Needed to know something first. It’s a risky ritual as it puts every Alpha in the area at risk.”

Tilting his head faintly, Stiles was listening intently.

Just then, Noah came out back. He pulled his son into a big ol’ Stilinski bear hug. When he finally let his son go, Noah looked to his son and Peter. “The cops are heading out. They’ve interviewed everyone and taken their pictures. They’re not going to figure it out, are they?”

Stiles shrugged. “Hard to say for sure, but it won’t lead back to the supernatural at least.”

Noah nodded. He seemed at least a bit relieved at things not tracking outside of the supposed ‘normal’ of most people’s day to day lives.

Peter tilted his head to the right. “The last vehicle has gone.”

Both Stilinskis nodded. Together they and Peter returned to inside the house to see the others working their way downstairs.

While Lydia and Allison lead the group, everyone looked somewhat run down by the pressures of not getting caught at all that was really going on. Both Ethan and Aiden looked pale and had Boyd and Derek helping them down the stairs to be set on the couch.

With everyone downstairs, Stiles ran a hand through his hair. “I know today has already been a shit show, but we’re not done yet. Chris? Do you need to set things up for getting the bodies dealt with that the cops and others didn’t take?”

Chris’ existing frown deepened. “I take it you want me to fuck off til it’s dark enough for me to deal with the bodies?”

Peter grinned showing his human teeth.

Stiles sighed. “Yes and no. I have work to do with bandaging and caring for everyone, and I genuinely have no clue if you need stuff or not. Plus, with working to care for everyone, I don’t have time to babysit.”

Peter chuckled. “I do, if you wanted to stay Argent.”

Chris sighed before moving to give his daughter a tight hug.

Noah shrugged. “With that, I need to head back to work. Would hate for them to be too suspicious of anything.”

Stiles nodded and gave his Dad a bear hug before letting the Sheriff head back to work.

Lydia scooted even more to the edge of her seat at the dining room table as she, Derek, and Chris paid intent attention as well while the others just listened like normal.

Stiles sighed at Chris staying but did not feel like he could afford to pick a fight right this moment.

Peter slid one of his hands into his pocket and made a power move. “The reason I did not tell you sooner about a way to track down Duke, Stiles was that I wasn’t sure of all the risks yet. However, with all I now know, it could be worth the risk. Essentially, it is a ritual in which ALL the Alpha sparks in a specified area are pulled out of their hosts. Then the Alpha sparks return to their true place. There is the constant risk that anyone could lose their Alpha spark to someone else, to whoever is deemed worry of said spark.”

Chris moved more aggressively forward. “You’re going to rescue the Demon Wolf?! This is not a game! You can’t play at this because you know it exist—”

Cutting Chris off, Stiles faced the man and had to fight not to flash his red eyes rimmed with a thin line of luminescent purple. “Play? Play?! I hate to break it you, but it’s pretty fucking real, just like Gerard torturing me and others here. Just be happy we’re willing to tell you anything or even talk around you.”

Shaking his head, Stiles turned back to Peter though it looked clearly like there would be a talk about the timing later. “As you were saying?”

Peter nodded faintly to his Alpha. “I think it is worth it now as I’ve seen what kinds of Alphas we have here. I also know that Duke will likely get his back. And either way, I’ll feel his when it’s out in a way I cannot from our distance it seems. But, more important to us Hales, I have found the Hale spark that vanished from Derek but was assumed to be caused by my… shall we say rebirth? However, that was not the case. Someone else has the Hale spark—Scott.”

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Next day at school…

In dark baggy jeans, an over-sized Hawkeye graphic t-shirt, and sneakers with his book bag over one shoulder, Stiles was moving at a steady speed to get to class before Mr. Yukimura started lecturing while mentally going over how they were going to work out getting Duke back if the ritual Peter had brought up worked. Suddenly, Stiles was yanked from the school hallway among the other students rushing to class, from his own thoughts, and into the boy’s locker room.

Before he had any chance to think or even fight, Stiles felt his backpack be tugged off just before he was shoved up against the wall.

Using his wolf strength, Theo had pinned Stiles to the wall. Theo had the boy’s arms pinned together overhead by the wrists. Theo pressed his body up against Stiles’. “Hmmm…a tasty treat just for me?”

Stiles struggled the moment what was happening registered. His human strength wasn’t doing much though. Although he could use his magic, Stiles knew that keeping that information to himself was best long-term when it came to Scott’s pack.

Growing hard against Stiles, Theo groaned and ground further into the human. “Want to try a ride? I’d make it so good for you.”

Stiles whimpered, eyes going huge. He hoped to whatever deities may exist that Theo was not intending to rape him right now. Feeling his heart racing faster and faster, he was trying desperately to not freak out or lose control. Stiles knew he needed to stay calm. This was not going to happen. Someone would come for him, right? Right?!

Growing longer and harder, Theo rolled his hips against Stiles. “You ready? Ready to take all of me? I’ve gotten bigger than when he—”

Just as suddenly as Theo had grabbed and began grinding against him, Stiles watched Theo be ripped right off him by Boyd and Adrian. Having not noticed them at all in his growingly panicked state, Stiles gripped his chest to try and wrangle firmer control over his breathing, so he wouldn’t pass out.

Stiles vaguely heard something being said or happening around him, but things were too blurry in his mind to track that. Instead, he dropped to his knees before curling over and vomiting onto the locker room floor, which was the last thing he remembered before everything went dark.

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In dark khaki pants, a green t-shirt with a half open black button down over it, and sneakers, Boyd had no idea what was wrong. He had just been sitting class half listening while dreamily watching Erica. She was such a wild and fun person. Then suddenly all he could feel through his pack bond was escalating panic and fear. It was quickly strong enough he could almost taste it on the air.

Furrowing his brow, Boyd cleared his throat loudly before asking to go to the restroom. Adrian got out of the classroom as well. Erica did too. As a triad of concern, Boyd took point to get them to their panicked Alpha.

Once at the boy’s locker room door, Boyd and Adrian went inside. Erica was lookout outside of the locker room for in case any teachers or others heard anything suspicious. Once in the locker room, the smell of sexual arousal and sperm was overwhelming.

In seconds, Boyd and Adrian found the problem: Stiles was pinned by Theo. They did not need to have overheard anything with all the smells of fear and sex hormones. Together, Boyd and Adrian ripped Theo off the human Alpha.

Boyd punched Theo HARD in the face. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Adrian just growled at the attacker, clearly still new to his wolf instincts but following Boyd’s lead.

Theo laughed and then spit blood onto Boyd’s face.

Boyd growled, shoving Theo hard enough to knock him out the locker room door with minimal property damage but with maximum damage to flesh. With Theo out of the area and now Erica’s problem to address next, Boyd turned to find that Stiles had not only thrown up but also passed out.

He vaguely heard someone outside the locker room being slammed into lockers in the hall, but Boyd was currently much more concerned about Stiles. “Adrian, go get the nurse. Tell her Stiles had an accident in the boy’s locker room.”

Without question, Adrian rushed out of the locker room and to the nurse’s office to get help.

Meanwhile, Boyd gently rolled Stiles onto his side away from the vomit but able to throw up more if needed without suffocating himself. Gently, Boyd moved Stiles’ hair from his face while draining the bit of pain the human was in.

Next, Boyd grabbed some paper towels intended for drying wet hands at the sinks. He brought them to Stiles to clean him off. Thankfully the Alpha only got a little vomit on himself. Boyd cleaned it all off and then moved to cleaning up the vomit pile near him as well as the bloody spit off his face. While the consistence implied Stiles had had a liquid diet that day mostly, it was no less gross in its soupiness.

Soon the nurse was brought in by Adrian. She knelt beside Stiles, checking his forehead for a rough temperature estimate. “Did either of you see what happened?”

Boyd shrugged. “When I came in to grab something, I found him on the ground seizing and having thrown up. He was seizing pretty hard, then passed out.”

The nurse nodded. “Adrian, did you see more?”

The young wolf shook his head no. “Came in seconds after Boyd.”

The nurse nodded again. She opened her nursing portable nursing kit. “Would one of you boys run back to the front desk and have the secretary call an ambulance, then his father?”

Adrian hopped up and ran out to do as she asked.

Boyd knelt on Stiles’ other side. Although he knew that Stiles was probably fine, Boyd still played along. “Is he going to be okay?”

Nurse hesitated, then continued with what she could do. “Possibly. But we’ll just have to wait and see for sure.”

Boyd then leaned away and hid his face some as though he were struggling with his emotions due to caring about Stiles. In all reality, he spoke very quietly. “Erica, text Stiles’ Dad so he doesn’t panic too much. Please.”

While Boyd knew that the nurse heard nothing, Erica likely had.

Notes:

Super sorry that I'm late in posting a chapter AGAIN! I really am trying to get these chapters up every other Friday. I promise, I am going to try really hard to be better about it.

Chapter 11: A fool & Gnome

Summary:

Seizure. Jennifer. Levander.

Notes:

Thank you everyone for your patience. I'm hoping to be on and STAY on the schedule for updates <3

Chapter 11

Erica had heard Boyd’s words after she’d slammed Theo into a locker or five. Hard to keep count, she told herself, when delivering a message to stay away from Stiles like that. Once Theo had taken off, she pulled out her phone and texted Stiles’ Dad to let him know it was not serious when he got the call about Stiles passing out at school.

However, even though she did that, Erica was not sure it wasn’t serious. Erica understood keeping things tight to the chest, but she worried that Stiles kept too much close to the chest. She also wondered, not for the first time, if Gerard’s torture was not the only thing that haunted Stiles’ nightmares. She’d yet to have it in her to touch on that with Stiles though as she did not want to hurt him.

He already carried so much weight, and Erica did not want to be the one to tilt the scales too far and throw Stiles off his game in one form or another.

She did not have too much time to dwell on her thoughts though as EMTs were rushing her way. She flagged them down as she opened the door to the boy’s locker room for them.

The EMTs clearly got the message that the person they were called over was through the door held open.

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Boyd was both relieved and concerned when the locker room door opened to let the EMTs into the room. He really wasn’t fully sure of what he and Aiden burst into when they entered the locker room and pulled Theo off Stiles. He had his concerns about what little he’d heard upon entry when combined with Theo being erect and grinding into Stiles.

It didn’t take a genius to guess Theo’s intentions, but Boyd wanted to be sure he wasn’t just jumping to conclusions.

The EMTs motioned for people to give them room. They took Stiles' pulse and checked Stiles over to be sure he had not harmed himself too severely. Once it was clear that there were some minor cuts and would surely be bruising but he was otherwise okay, the EMTs used smelling salts to rouse Stiles since they suspected that he had simply fainted.

However, upon seemingly scenting the smelling salts, Stiles went into a violent seizure. The EMTs signaled the others back further while they tried to ensure that Stiles didn’t hurt himself further. One of the two EMTs moved to go grab their cart bed for those they took to the hospital while the other continued to try and prevent Stiles from hurting himself beyond the strains that could come from sever seizures.

Boyd again covered his face like he was trying not to cry at witnessing something so intense occurring. But, despite his fear and concern, he was incredibly quietly speaking to Erica. “Warn his Dad he has had a seizure and let Peter know all of what is happening.”

Trusting Erica to do as he’d asked, Boyd openly wore his fear for his Alpha. He remembered how scary Erica’s seizures were for Erica with risks of brain damage and even breaking bones in the process to say the least. He hoped this would turn out to be nothing serious for Stiles.

The EMT with the cart bed arrived then. They waited for the seizures to ease into unconsciousness. Together, both EMTs managed to load Stiles onto the bed instead of giving him smelling salts again. It was made easier by the seizures seeming to be done. Once they had Stiles on the cart, the EMTs rushed him away and presumably into the ambulance they came in.

Boyd could not deny his worry. In looking to Adrian and smelling the worry he was putting off in waves, Boyd rubbed the slightly younger teen’s arm. “He’ll be okay; he’s strong.”

Pale from the whole affair, Adrian looked to Boyd. “But he’s human. Aren’t they weaker than us?”

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes as dramatically like Peter as he could, Boyd instead just shook his head. “No. They don’t heal like us, don’t have our strength, but they can be as strong or stronger in sheer willpower. Stiles is.”

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Scott noticed the EMTs leaving with Stiles through the window of the classroom door and the whispers of students in the hall. He couldn’t help but grin. He raised his hand. Upon being called on, Scott scrambled to get up from his desk as soon as he could. “So sorry, but I really need to use the bathroom.”

Ms. Blakes frowned. “For the third time?”

Scott faltered, but rallied quickly. “The EMTs that just passed our class? They’re taking my best friend. I think I’m going to puke in worry.”

Although she looked skeptical, Ms. Blake waved her hands toward the door before continuing on about the Romantics era in literature.

Scott didn’t need to be told twice. He was up and out of the class a little too fast for a human. He did not even bother to cover his mouth like he might puke. Instead, he ran out like a gawker.

Once out of the classroom, Scott saw Boyd and Adrian leaving the boy’s locker room, the second looking pale. Erica was outside the bathroom waiting for the two it seemed. Not bothering with niceties like asking how they were doing, Scott got down to business. “What happened?”

The three teens Scott considered to be in Derek’s pack all looked at each other. Then nearly all at once, they said, “Nothing.”

Shaking his head faintly, Scott doubted any of them were good betas. Theo was better with his rippling muscles and more. That guy knew how to get things done! Scott smiled to himself at the thought of muscles but then shook himself out of it. His thoughts shifted to Kira, and how he knew she was the one. She would be all about him as he deserved.

Holding back further smiles, Scott huffed. “Whatever, maybe now he’ll agree when I offer the bite. I can save him and get a planner for my pack.”

Erica opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but Boyd elbows her in the side. That seemed enough to shut up the bossy blonde.

Scott grinned. Must have been serious if a cat could catch her tongue. Again, Scott would be the hero, and Stiles would be back on his side due to the help!

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Over an hour later at the hospital…

Stiles was laying in the bed there, conscious, and annoyed. His Dad was standing just outside his room, questioning the doctor. He seemed to want to be comforted or for it to be confirmed that Stiles was not showing early signs of frontal temporal dementia like his mother had. It seemed that even with the pack warning him what had happened—to a degree—the man was still terrified.

Peter had gone to see a contact today, so while he was on his way back, he wasn’t here yet. Erica, Boyd, and the others were still stuck at school, which wouldn’t let them leave for him.

That left his Dad and maybe Deaton, but Stiles wasn’t sure if anyone notified Deaton or not. Admittedly, he wasn’t really sure if that was a good thing or not. Something was wrong there. Nothing explicitly had occurred necessarily, but Stiles could not look past how shady the Druid had been from the start way back when Scott first got bit. The man had a few too many cards up all areas of his clothes while playing like he was naked. Stiles just could not trust Deaton.

It also didn’t hurt that the Druid did not seem to feel any noticeable drive to seek out or spend any real time with the pack. That had to be driving him nuts, right? It had to be doing something even if Stiles wasn’t sure what just yet.

While his Dad was speaking to the doctor, Stiles watched Scott slip into his room. Of course, Scott managed to slip out of school! Stiles had wanted his pack to stay at school to not draw suspicions that he could have a pack, so the school not letting them loose worked in his favor despite how much he couldn’t deny that he would feel safer with Scott around if he was not facing the alpha alone.

However, such secrecy, plus his Dad being consumed with the need to be sure Stiles wasn’t sick like his mother, had left Stiles alone to face Scott.

Not surprisingly, Scott slipped in and plopped down into the chair beside Stiles’ bed like they were close friends in some way that allowed for comfort in one another’s presence. “Hey, what happened?”

Stiles rolled his shoulders. “Nothing really, just had a seizure.”

Scott’s eyes flashed for a second. “Oh wow. Are they thinking you could have what your Mom had? Just asking cause if you do, I’ll do something. I’ll turn you to save you from that future. Or, if you want, even before they do further tests, I could bite you… it would protect you from everything like mine protects me from everything.”

After a moment spent trying not to roll his eyes or cuss Scott right out of his room, Stiles sighed. “I’m fine, Scott. No need to turn me. I’m okay. Just having Adderall withdrawal. Forgot to take it last night.”

Stiles left out that such a thing was horribly unlikely as Stiles was still using it to reduce if not outright prevent his sleeping to protect himself from those nightmares even sleeping with wolves couldn’t staved off.

More concerning to Stiles though was how gun hoe Scott was about biting him. That just was not right. Yes, Scott could get wrapped up in his own thing and do incredibly dumb things, particularly in service to his ego, but this was not that. Yes, maybe there was still some ego in this, but Stiles had been there through much of Scott dealing with—or not really accepting—being bitten. Stiles knew Scott did not view the bite as a gift regardless of the benefits it afforded him.

Now Scott was seeking to bite Stiles? This was not right, and Stiles knew it. While it was reasonable for him to change over time, Scott’s words on biting Stiles were a complete one eighty.

Scott frowned. “But, you know, if you let me turn you, you’ll never have to face any more illness, death. You’d have it all, just like me! You could become co-captain of our lacrosse team! We could date the hottest girls in school! Bro, we could be blood brothers that way!”

Even though Scott was getting more and more excited by the letter, Stiles worked not to just growl and tell the true alpha to fuck right the hell off. Instead, Stiles took a slow deep breath. “No, Scott. I don’t want to be turned. I’m okay being human. I don’t need or even want those things, Scott. I’m okay as I am.”

Scott looked almost shattered, but he seemed to pull himself back together quite quickly. “Come on Stiles, you really want to be just some rando weak human who could die by slipping on a wet floor? Yeah right!”

Stiles thanked whatever deities may exist for Scott having not yet picked up how to pay the right attention to detect a lie. Or maybe it was just Scott assuming Stiles wouldn’t if not outright couldn’t lie to him. He knew those little blessings could count toward life or death in some fashion potentially in the future.

With Stiles not breaking down or changing his mind, Scott growled and flashed his eyes, standing in frustration. “Ya know, if you keep being like this, expecting me to beg you to take the bite you just might not get it!”

Those words out; Scott left the room in a huff, leaving Stile wondering what was going on with Scott’s eyes flashing.

Once finally sure Stiles was going to be fine, Noah went back into his son’s room. “They say that you had a panic attack and a drug reaction. Is that true?”

Stiles smiled half-heartedly, tired from the day already. “Pretty much. Left out that I got some bruises, but I doubt that’s as exciting as the other parts—the powerful Juggernaut, I am not.”

The sheriff rolled his eyes, showing where Stiles got the habit. Noah then moved to his son and pulled him into a one arm hug. “Okay, kid. Sure you’re fine?”

Stiles hugged his Dad back. “I’m sure, Dad.”

Noah pulled back and ruffled his son’s hair some. “K, I’m gonna head back to work then. I’ll pick you up after work if I haven’t gotten a text from you that your friends have grabbed you.”

“Sure thing, Daddio.”

The sheriff gave Stiles’ shoulder a squeeze, then left.

--

About twenty minutes after the Sheriff had left, a notably short man shuffled into Stiles’ room. The man wore an obnoxiously bright-color Hawaiian shirt and tan khakis—both seemed big on him. He also wore a tan baseball cap pulled low with his head tilted forward to hide his face. The man had his hands shoved into his pockets. The man’s skin was nearly shimmery—like a sheer of sweat but less moist and difficult to notice if you were not hypervigilant. “You Stiles Stilinski?”

Perking a brow, Stiles found himself projecting an energy of relaxation despite how tense he really was to give himself advantage if the person was hostile. “Yeah, who’s asking?”

The man chuckled and pulled off his cap. With the removal of his cap the magic fell off of the man like water from a spout to reveal the gnome beneath: Levander.

Stiles smiled. “Wow.”

Levander had a shit-eating grin. “Like my disguise?”

Shaking his head, Stiles scooted further up his hospital bed to more effectively sit upright. “Was brilliant if a little imperfect in terms of skin, but how did you even get here?”

Chuckling, Levander moved to stand on the chair beside Stiles’ bed while chuckling. “What? Thought being summoned was the only way for me to cross through the veil?”

Stiles flushed some in embarrassment. He really just had not ever thought about it. It did make sense though that the gnome would have more than one way to cross the veil beside some random teenager. “Then why did you want me to summon you if I wanted your help?”

“Needed to know you were the real thing. No point in helping some idiot who stumbled on things they don’t understand or a pixie playing a prank. Plus, catfishing is a risk for everyone. The cards shared that it would work out, but I had to be sure.”

“Why are you here?”

Levander nodded. “A Leprechaun has gone missing.”

Stiles tilted his head. He had not known they too were real; however, it was not too surprising as their myths implied a fey connection. “Thinking it’s the same people who have Duke? Huh, makes sense. It could also explain how a hunter could catch a pack of werewolves unaware. He could use the Leprechaun’s magic to disguise their approach and their traveling afterward too.”

The gnome grinned. “Beauty, and brains too. That’s what I was thinking. We could track the Leprechaun and perhaps have better luck than tracking your alpha wolf had gone.”

Stiles nodded in agreement. “Okay, let’s get me checked out. Then we can head to a magical place I know to help us.”

Levander nodded. “You may want reinforcements to help.”

Nodding, Stiles pulled out his phone. “How many you thinking?”

The gnome grinned. “Two more. Magic-believers if possible.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and texted both Allison and Lydia to get themselves out of class asap. He included that he needed their help.

Now, he needed to get himself out of the hospital quickly for them all to meet up.

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A couple hours later and just a bit before school finished…

Derek had arrived early to pick up Adrian. He wore jeans, a black Henley, and sneakers. He got out of his black vehicle. He’d intended to go into the school. It would be a nice change to be in there without it being life or death. Before he could even make it fully through the parking lot, Derek heard someone struggling with their car. Turning to his left, he saw a woman with long dark hair and pristine pail skin fighting to get her driver’s side door open.

Without enough thought, Derek headed toward the woman.

She wore short black heels, a black pencil skirt, and a pink floral-patterned button-down blouse. Her long dark had loose curls with a bit of the top pulled back to possibly reveal an expressive face.

The woman’s car had several big dents in it, including a smaller one on the driver’s door.

Derek moved closer to her and the car. “Need help?”

The woman sighed and moved out of the way while motioning to the vehicle’s door. “Sure, but I think it may just be too messed up. I guess it’s what I get for street parking my car.”

With a well-intended smile, Derek stepped around the woman. He then with just a touch of werewolf strength, popped open the woman’s door without harming the door or fully detaching it from the car.

The woman smiled as she offered him her hand. “I’m Jennifer.”

He shook her hand. “Derek.”

Notes:

Lost access to my Tumblr account but am hoping to create and link a new one here as soon as I am able <3

Chapter 12: Looking for a Leprechaun

Summary:

Jennifer. Magic. Derek. Peter the protector.

Notes:

Sorry the chapter/update is late again! I fell asleep last night while doing my final efforts to edit the chapter before I post it. However, here is is. I hope you enjoy!

In a trendy café downtown…
In a Henley, jeans, and work boots, Derek smiled at Jennifer who sat across from him in the cozy booth. His eyebrows were lifted in an open way, he was sure, but not quite as open as shocked. He couldn’t help but feel slightly flushed. He had not really been with anyone since Kate. It was so nice to find someone sweet and kind who liked him for him so far. Only time would tell if she cared for him once she knew of his other side: the wolf.

Jennifer wore a black pencil skirt, a floral blouse one undone button away from being indecent, a black sweater over that and dark-colored ballet flats. She was smiling too. The fingers of her left hand ran slowly along the rim of her water glass.

They’d met up for a date during her lunch break. Just as their silent flirting was tipping toward using words, the waitress brought them their orders: rare steak with potatoes and green beans for Derek and a medium rare steak with sunny side up eggs for Jennifer.

She moved her focus to her steak. She popped the egg yolks to allow the runny yellow to run all over her steak with one hand as her other just barely brushed Derek’s to grab the salt. “Sorry, just didn’t eat much in the way of breakfast. I’ve certainly learned my lesson that a granola bar is not a breakfast.”

Derek couldn’t help his smile growing more at how endearing he found her in their brief touch. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he just had a feeling she would accept his wolf just as she had his only having one arm. It was a very nice feeling: acceptance.

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In the preserve at the Nemeton…

Stiles was sitting beside the stump. He was holding up quite well considering what had occurred earlier in his day. However, he couldn’t think about that now. It would affect his ability to find what they all sought.

Levander sat on the opposite side of the stump from Stiles. Not wearing any kind of disguise, the gnome looked almost regal in his earthen-colored robes.

Allison and Lydia had successfully gotten out of after school activities with nearly the exact same reasoning: devastating period cramps. They each sat opposite one another on either side of the stump.

It all worked out to be a four-point diamond shape around the Nemeton. Levander had positioned them in connection to gender and as four stakes of grounding strength. The gnome had seemed quite pleased with who Stiles had gotten to come and help.

Levander then raised his arms overhead. “Okay everyone, raise you hands up as I have. Girls, once the magic becomes visible, immediately throw your open palms to the ground and focus on holding tight to the ground with your energies even though your palms are flat on the ground.”

Both Allison and Lydia nodded in response to the gnome’s words.

Even with her training, Allison struggled not to stare at the gnome. She’d clearly had no idea they were real. Stiles was surprised Lydia had not told her about Levander, but maybe she had been but seeing versus believing can be a shock.

With all their hands in the air, Levander began to chant in what Stiles knew to be Gaelic. “Bidh draoidhean na talmhainn, den Nemeton fhèin, gar stiùireadh gu na bràithrean as fortanach agus as mì-mhodhail!”

For better or worse, Stiles had no clue quite what was said. He was looking to learn the Scottish form of Gaelic, but he was overall more focused on his perfection of Polish and growing proficiency in Latin and Old Latin. While he knew other languages too, Stiles was in no rush to share that information. Instead of focusing on what the words may literally mean, Stiles followed the building magic.

Stiles’ eyes fell shut as the magic metaphorically lifted higher and higher around them. Vaguely, as if from some distance, he heard the girls slam their hands to the ground. Stiles just let the magic in him and around him grow and grow while Levander was clearly focusing the magic with intent.

An eon or maybe a millisecond later, Stiles pried his eyes open to see blood on the map Levander had insisted upon bringing. The map was of California itself. As the blood moved, it was making more and more sense why they had not been able to find Deuc so far.

The blood ran through Beacon Hills and settled on the edge furthest from them of the next county. The blood circled a place where there was no marked city or anything else really. Upon Levander’s clap above the map, the blood solidified like pen marks circling the spot where the Leprechaun would be discovered.

Stiles showed some relief, ready to find the messed-up monster hunter to save another monster and a Leprechaun. He then rolled his shoulders. They were not done yeah.

Levander did not move the map or reach for it even. Instead, Levander leaned back some to lay his hands palms down on this earth while nodding to Stiles to do the same. Once Stiles’ hands were posed the same, Levander trilled softly like a songbird. “Beannaichte gu robh mòran de dhraoidhean taingeil na talmhainn agus an Nemeton! Bheir sinn tiodhlac dhut airson cus lùth mar thiodhlac airson do chuideachadh. Beannaichte a ’tighinn còmhla agus a’ gabhail grèim!”

Then, the gnome laid back on the ground, relaxing. “So be it. By three, so be it.”

Stiles slowly rose to his feet, watching Levander. Not saying anything yet, Stiles motioned for both girls to be able to move as they please. His eyes moving from Levander to the map and approaching the simple slip of paper, Stiles looked to Levander once again. “Are you coming with us?”

Levander shook his head. “Alas, that is not my course. When you find the Leprechaun, merely open his cage. If able, they will vanish on you to their own safety.”

With his words said, Levander began to ease into the grassy ground. He appeared to be being absorbed into the earth itself.

Stiles watched in shocked confusion. “Are you doing this?”

Levander shrugged. “I need to be getting back. It’s safer elsewhere.”

In mere seconds, Levander was gone, seeped into the earth so thoroughly for it to appear as though he was never there to start with.

Swallowing hard, Stiles stepped just a bit closer to the map before tentatively picking it up to further examine it.

Allison came nearer to Stiles once she was on her feet.

Lydia was hot on Ally’s heels. “That’s about an hour drive.”

Ally shook her head. “No. I know a short cut. I could drive it through that in twenty.”

With a smile, Lydia linked her right arm through Allison’s left while leaning slightly on her girlfriend.

Stiles rolled up the map before slipping it into his back pocket. Next, he took his cellphone from his front jean pocket on his left side and checked the time. “Well, we’ll end up back at my place around the time I would normally be home from school. Guess that’s good for a busy one.”

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About forty-five minutes later at the Stilinski house…

Derek burst in through the back door of Stiles’ residence. While he had expected Stiles’ few pack members and Stiles to be there, Derek was surprised to find his whole pack their too. Before he could do much of anything one way or the other, Derek watched Lydia, Allison, and Stiles come into the home through the front door with clear purpose.

Even though he was getting a real sense that something had happened that he didn’t know about, Derek carried forth further into the house. He had to get things taken care of so he could really focus his time on Jennifer. Following habit more than anything, Derek dodged all the others in the house to push Stiles up against a wall. “Listen, you and I? We’re going to go find and get Deuc now! No more—”

Before he could finish his words, Derek was ripped off Stiles and thrown brutally hard into the kitchen.

Peter was suddenly oh so close. Seconds after Derek hit the ground, Peter was on him with claws to Derek’s throat. Derek’s eyebrows grew intensely furrowed. He did not at all get why his uncle was being this way. However, everything was frozen almost as no one moved to change the moment they were all in. No one spoke. Everyone Derek could see from his position were watching and smelled uncertain. Except for his uncle—Peter smelled like barely restrained violence with a definite edge of protector in his scent.

Despite their precarious position with Derek unable to move without having his throat slit open, Derek could not miss that Peter was just still. He wasn’t frozen nor had any odor of magical influence. No, Peter was waiting. But waiting for what?

Derek’s question was answered after a few tense moments of stillness.

Weakly with a distinct edge of fear, Stiles broke the silence. “It’s okay, Peter. He didn’t do any real damage.”

Peter growled ferally, his eyes even flashing black for briefly before flashing their mournful crystalline blue.

Backing off, Peter left Derek confused on the kitchen laminate floor to retreat to wrap Stiles in his arms. Derek’s uncle curled around Stiles like he once had his human wife all the time before she was burnt up in the fire with their young child and unborn baby. It was so surreal.

Seeing his uncle that way, it took Derek a moment before he snapped out of his thoughts enough to pick himself up. Derek did not totally give ground, but his uncle’s actions did cause Derek to not approach Stiles. It didn’t hurt that Stiles looked pale under his too big clothes in that moment.

Derek felt something on the fringe of his instincts trying to make him follow the string to what may be wrong, but Derek refused it. It wasn’t his problem. Instead, his eyebrows stayed furrowed as he wished he could cross his arms over his chest as he once would have. Then again, Derek honestly just wished for his arm back in general let alone for moments like this. He felt so vulnerable and unprotected.

Refusing to fall deeper into the depression the line of thought could lead to right this moment, Derek kept it as far away as he could along with the guilt tied to the fire. As it was, he was trying to not let his mind wander too close to be wondering if that moment with Peter was how his sister had felt before dying. He did not need the emotion explosion the world kept setting up like little traps to further trip him up and directly and or indirectly mess up things with Jennifer. “We need to get on top of this, Stiles.”

Stiles did not climb out of Peter’s arms, rather seemed to take comfort in the protection Peter’s position signaled and was likely intended to have some level of tactical advantage if Derek knew his uncle at all.

Even from a possibly protected position, Stiles managed to hold himself up with potentially will alone. However, Stiles kept proving that his will was not something to be taken lightly. “Agreed. We need to rescue them both.”

Derek faintly tilted his head in confusion. “Them both?”

Notes:

First bit of Gaelic translates to “Magics of the earth, of the Nemeton herself, guide us to our luckiest and most elusive of fey brothers!”

Second bit translates to “Blessed be with much gratitude magics of earth and the Nemeton! We gift you our excess energies as a offering for your help. Blessed joining and separation!”

Chapter 13: Bravado Leans while Strength Builds

Summary:

A plan. Stalking. Assignment.

Notes:

I've become really inspired by the writer on here called HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere! While the effects of this on this chapter are quite minor, I am hoping that going forward I make more space for characters to really slow down and feel things and deal with things that are important even if they aren't always exciting in traditional ways. These things, these moments are important, and this writer has inspired me to try to bring those moments to the forefront a bit more in my work.

“Yeah,” Stiles said. His voice was getting stronger, but the panic of Derek’s actions had been too unexpected. After Theo earlier, Stiles had not been able to take it like light fear with a possible quip like normal. Stiles hated that he had a moment too real, too weak in front of another pack let alone in front of someone with the habit of pushing him around.

While not an enemy outright, Stiles knew Derek was a potential threat as he was another Alpha in the territory.

Carefully not looking around to see everyone or their reactions, Stiles had still caught glimpses of a confused Adrian and worried Erica. They knew more than the others as they hadn’t had time for everyone to convene and sort out what was happening or what had happened. Stiles hadn’t even decided how much to share versus keep to himself ‘til the day he died.’

There was simply too much to unpack let alone any other thing that would provide context, clarity. It was asking too much to unload any of this on everyone. Honestly, he was perfectly fine, he told himself, to near open those doors. Something hidden in the dark of the night had to stay there stuffed deep, deep into the dark where it could only hurt him and no one else.

Stiles wanted to roll his shoulders to ease some tension, but genuinely did not want to risk giving Peter the idea that he wanted loose. Stiles wanted many things, but that was none of them. In a perfect world, a perfect time, Stiles would kick Derek out and pull his whole pack into his room to sleep safely together. However, that was not an option right now.

Laying a hand over Peter’s too show how helpful the protection was, Stiles said to himself within his mind over and over that ‘isn’t like before, this isn’t like before…’

Settling a little faster with Peter wrapped around him, Stiles was getting himself back to himself enough to say: “I have a plan.”

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Beacon Hills High, after lacrosse practice…

Scott was cleaned up and dressed in light faded jeans, a black t-shirt, and sneakers. He had his locker room locker open when he saw Jackson. Practically dropping what he was doing, Scott approached the teen despite Jackson being in only a towel having just gotten out of the showers. “Hey Jackson, how ya doing?”

Jackson appeared to grit his teeth as he kept a hand on his towel and spun around to face Scott. “Leave. Me. ALONE, McCall!”

The response caused an already dressed Danny to move to Jackson. While not in the loop of what all was happening, Danny appeared to intuit that it was a much bigger deal than Scott acted like it was. Danny laid a hand on Jackson’s shoulder and stared daggers into Scott as he went to open his mouth a speak more. “Leave him alone, McCall. Clearly now is not the time.”

Jackson appeared to be holding in a growl but instead settled for what Scott knew couldn’t possibly be true. “It’s not and will NEVER be.”

In his blue t-shirt and jeans, Danny appeared to be automatically taking Jackson’s side. It pissed Scott off. He wanted to just bite Danny right then and there to sort this whole thing out, but he refrained even if he wasn’t clear-headed enough right now to remember why.

Scott growled lowly enough only wolves heard. He then just turned tail and returned to his locker. He couldn’t remember what he had been doing, so he just shut it and stormed right out of the locker room.

Once out, Scott walked through the school halls to leave, but his attention was caught by Kira’s lovely voice carrying out of a classroom. It caused Scott to halt in his steps toward the front exit of the school to his change direction and head toward her voice. He followed it all the way to History class. He didn’t step in immediately. He instead listened for a moment to check this was the right place.

Once sure it was indeed her, Scott stepped into the room like the badass he knew he was. What he found upon entering was Kira on the phone.

In black skinny jeans, sneakers, and a blue blouse with flowers on it in a pattern that Scott offhandedly wondered if it had its own label, term to describe. She was clearly talking to a parent. “Dad, are you serious? Are you okay?”

Scott sidled up into her view entirely on purpose.

Despite him being within her eyesight, Kira appeared to not notice him. “Okay, Dad. I’m glad you are okay. What did Mom say about it?”

Feeling impatient, Scott worked as hard as he could to restrain the temptation to just break her phone, so she would pay all her attention to him. For better or worse, Scott remembered that he could not tell her right away he was a wolf. While he felt entitled to do so, Scott wanted her badly enough to refrain… for now.

He also enjoyed the thought of Kira not being a hunter, so his telling her wouldn’t endanger them all. Plus, now he was an Alpha. It would be impressive, right? That’s what Theo had said before. It was so nice to have someone on his side, supporting him. It was so weird how so much had changed.

Between Theo and Deaton, Scott felt so confident in himself in ways he never quite did before. He even didn’t hate being a werewolf so much! He now knew he was special. It was a good thing!

“Okay, Dad. No, I’ll find a way home. Well, I’ll walk is what I mean. I love you, Dad. Bye.”

Kira smiled as she hung up her phone, slipping her phone into her pocket.

Scott felt like a giddy puppy at her intending to walk home. This would be his chance!

Finally noticing him, Kira still smiled. “Uh, hi?”

“Sorry, just heard someone still here. Was worried someone was hurt and or needed help in some way.”

Clearly believing his lie, Kira moved her plaited hair behind her shoulder. “Oh, well thank you, I guess. Why stay when I’m clearly okay?”

With his best I’m-a-good-puppy grin, Scott shrugged. “Heard you were walking home. Wanted to offer to walk you. I mean, Beacon Hills looks like a sweet little town, but it’s never a bad idea to stick on the safe side.”

Kira faltered a bit, but then nodded good naturedly. “Good point. And thank you, I would love you to walk me home—just to be safe.”

Scott beamed at her agreeing. Perhaps Allison had been the crazy one when all was said and done. Although he fought off his temptation to offer her his arm, Scott still motioned for her to lead the way.

Kira blushed faintly, focused seemingly on heading home with an attractive school mate.

While hoping he could get a reward in the form of a kiss for walking her home, Scott tried to focus on talking with her. He knew they were meant to be, but he wanted to play the gentlemen, so she could figure that out too.

----------------------------------------------

In the Stilinski house…

Derek was sat at the dining room table with Adrian, Erica, and Boyd. In the livingroom sat Cora, Lydia, Allison, Ethan, and Aiden. Stiles was standing between the livingroom and dining room with Peter at his side.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Stiles reached deep into himself for the strength he felt he needed to address the Deucalion situation. This was no time to grow a sense of self preservation. “I know we are two not so big packs, but I know we can do this. Adrian and Lydia, I want you two here. You can prep together for our return and the inevitable wounded.”

Before Stiles could speak more, Derek cleared his throat. The man seemed to focus though in a more practical way right this moment. “All this planning is no good without any idea of where the Demon Wolf is.”

Stiles had to fight the temptation to roll his eyes at the Alpha who had not long before charged in without a plan or a location demanding they act now. Something seemed off with Derek to Stiles, but he could not quite put his finger on it. Regardless, Stiles knew his information may be time sensitive. “I do have a location. He’s on the furthest outskirts of the county beside Beacon County.”

Derek growled low. “Which one?”

Stiles tilted his head ever so faintly. “Baeth. But we also need someone to be with Issac just in case.”

Giving a faint nod, Derek looked to Cora. “Cora could be a good pick to stay with him. It’d help keep her safe.”

Stiles shook his head no.

Cora growled before Stiles could speak. “Not you or anyone else are going to keep me out of this fight.”

Derek’s brows dipped low. “You were his prisoner. You don’t need to do this.”

She growled again. “I won’t lose another pack.”

Stiles was struck silent as was Derek. Neither had expected so sudden a willingness to defend her new pack that she barely knew. Then again, neither knew who she was counting as her pack right this moment. Regardless, it was her right to choose.

After a shake of his head to clear his mind out a bit, Stiles forced himself to keep moving. That was the secret, Stiles reminded himself, he had to keep moving. “I agree. Cora is going with us. I was thinking asking Dad to go, but I don’t know that we have enough time to lose to explain it to him. Wait, I—”

Cutting himself off, Stiles looked to Lydia. “Think you could get him to do it on short notice? We can even promise to explain things when we get back.”

Lydia nodded in agreement, getting up from the couch and heading upstairs to call Jackson.

While the wolves would likely hear all the details of the call, Stiles could only vaguely hear that it was indeed occurring. Stiles did not really trust Jackson outright, but he did trust Lydia. She seemed sure he would be a fit to help.

Stiles then returned his focus to the others. “We’re going to take this a piece at a time if quickly. We need to be ready for anything.”

Derek kept frowning. “Adrian’s coming.”

Notes:

All my errors are my own. There is currently no beta reader.

Thank you so much for reading <3

Chapter 14: Heavy Mind in Burdened Body

Summary:

Deucalion. Pain. Memories. Hopeless?

Notes:

**Trigger Warning** Reflection/remembering murder, torture, and sexual violence

On the furthest edge of the next county from Beacon County, Baeth…

Deucalion had no idea how long he had been there. It just felt like an eternity.

The pain that wracked his body all over was so many layers thick. There were the lacerations all over his body. There were deeper cuttings and removal of bits. The bruises all over him had seemingly given him a new skin tone: purple. His fingernails had been removed over and over to the point at which he had no idea what he had there right now beyond extensions of pain.

There was the Wolf’s Bane all over himself and the room. It burned his body in and out, making every inhale painful as he breathed. Furthermore, it was slowing his healing, but not giving him the peaceful release of death. He could feel his body so painfully slowly fighting to heal him. His skin sewing itself shut a cell at a time in feeling like slow motion.

He was used to being chained to the ground with his face pressed up against the smell of werewolf blood—not just his own. However, things were changing. Lately, Deuc was being posed in different positions and angles through suspension. It seemed like he was little more than a toy turned experiment.

Growingly, Deuc could smell antiseptic. While stringent, the smell was beyond welcome as he was stuck in the dark of his blindness with no sound and blood seemingly everywhere. The antiseptic smell kept him at least a little more grounded than might otherwise be the case. He suspected the smell also meant he’d be getting a healing break again soon no matter how much he didn’t want it.

Right now, Deuc was strung up again. It seemed Gerard had ropes training of some kind as with just rope that was digging into his skin Deuc was suspended in his cell. The core of Deuc’s body was horizontal to the ground with his right leg stretched straight up while his left leg was stretched straight down. His arms were roped up too tight behind his back in a dragonfly knot system. Even his head was roped into position as there was roping around his head that forced his face to be in position to stare toward where Deuc knew the door had to be from Gerard’s comings and goings. Where an onlooker would think he could turn away, they would be mistaken as the roping around his neck grew tighter anytime he attempted to look away or otherwise move.

In his position, no part of Deuc’s body touched the ground or really anything solid beyond the too tight ropes. Beyond the pain of the ropes, Deuc could feel greater pain as he was cut open in one straight line parallel from the ground from just below his rib cage to his belly button. While he could not see it, he felt like at least one thing was hanging out of him from that cutting. Even greater in pain was that his right leg had been cut in thin lines over and over to cause enough bleeding to keep him weak yet not so much as to kill him while his left leg was cut off just below the knee with Wolf’s Bane rubbed into the wound.

It seemed that the removed leg part was an injury that Gerard sought to be permanent as rubbing the poison in decreased the odds of him getting the leg back attached if it was even still viable. Or maybe it was in spite as Gerard’s efforts to sew a leg from another onto him did not turn out how the sadist wanted because Deuc’s body wouldn’t integrate the leg of another.

The larger wound pains were great enough that Deuc hardly felt the numerous other smaller cuts all over his body. They even overtook the pain in his anus where he had been forced to take the pear of anguish, opening it within to reveal the burn of Wolf’s Bane. Worse than the internal bleeding and pain that still flourished there was the humiliation Deucalion felt at Gerard, after yanking the open pear out, pressing his erection into Deuc.

At his age, with his blindness and growing power, Deuc had assumed he would never feel weak, never be a victim again. He was wrong. He was oh so wrong. Deuc fought the tears that threatened to spill with his thinking of what Gerard had taken, and how Deuc’s efforts to never be a victim again had failed.

After having been blinded by Gerard all those years ago before even the Hale fire, Deuc had built himself into the most powerful Alpha werewolf alive. He was the Demon Wolf! He had a pack of powerful Alphas to keep him further insulated from victimhood. He saved his wolves from their victimhood too in some cases, like with Ethan and Aiden.

Deuc was beyond victimhood! He even saved others from such trivial minor incidents. He was the most powerful werewolf alive!

However, now, Deuc was again a victim. Deucalion was torn deeper inside than any pain Gerard had yet given with the knowledge that all of his violence, his gathering of power had not kept him safe. What was going to protect Deuc when he got out of here? Would he even get out of here? Did he really want to?

Deuc worked to not think of escape, which he supposed would please the hunter. The monster had humiliated and shattered some piece inside of Deuc so thoroughly that he didn’t want to think about if he got free.

Just stretched out in the air, Deuc found himself thinking he was like a worm of a hook. Well, if he was bait, Deucalion hoped nothing would be caught. No one cared for him in the world, not really. He chose to be feared rather than loved for his safety, but look where that had gotten him?

For once, he had to admit to himself that he’d rather stay than force another to endure what he was going through. If he had to be in this spot, he was glad no one would come for him and possibly had to endure or even witness this.

It was an odd thought for Deuc. He had not been a kind or giving person after being blinded. His humanity lasted less than a day after that. All it took was one person attacking him for his Alpha spark, trying to take advantage of his blindness to end it. The deeper pain of being a sitting duck was short lived as when he killed his fellow pack member, he found himself stronger.

Deuc recognized a path to never be a victim again, even if Deuc did not admit that to himself even then. From that kill on, Deucalion went on to destroy his whole pack, even children. He treated it as power-seeking to hide from himself that he just wanted to make sure he was safe.

Trying not to shake his head at himself as he did not need the rope around his neck to tighten further, Deuc was so frustrated with both himself and the world. He supposed it must be what people were talking about with their joke about God laughing when you planned. Deuc used to think that was a stupid saying. He thought he was the Demon Wolf! He could control anything he sought to. And on the rare occasion he couldn’t? He just killed whatever was causing the issue.

Deuc did understand that it was possible he had gotten too comfortable being the strongest. He had lost track of caution. He did think; he did plan, but it was rarely with the intent to protect himself. Rather, it was to get his way, to lay out the board for his own gains and even enjoyment.

With feeling like there was so much time between tortures and healings, Deucalion had taken to really looking at aspects of his life he never really did before: his victims. He knew he had killed many in the name of power (aka safety), but strung up where he was, everything he had been through so far, Deuc could not help but question if any of it was worth it.

Deucalion had to question if killing Lucia, from his original pack, was worth it. She had been kind. Lucia had worn over-sized dresses bound with a stylish belt and made the best bread. Every bit of that bread had been made with love, from scratch, by hand. She had always said that a thing such as bread would always be more filling and tastier when made so that every piece of the process was mindful and filled with love. What he wouldn’t give to taste her bread right now. Deuc never would again: he killed her. Her and others were the price. But what did he really buy?

Time, maybe?

Maybe Deuc would’ve been safer if he had stayed with that pack. He would’ve still had to fend off others who sought to take advantage of his blindness, but maybe he wouldn’t be here right now. Maybe this, maybe that. Deucalion was starting to make peace with never leaving. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to breath fresh air: air that was not saturated with werewolf blood and Wolf’ Bane. The bigger problem to Deuc’s mind was what now?

If he got out, what would Deucalion even do? Hide away from the world to maintain a small piece of safety? No. He was not one to hermit. He was a wolf. Strong, right?

Deuc also knew he’d need a pack to heal up in, but no pack would take him. He was the demon wolf. He had killed his own pack and encouraged others to do the same. Deuc knew he was not welcome anywhere. Even if he changed his ways, Deuc could still never change the past. He would never be trusted not to kill another pack.

Maybe all he had was being the legend, the nightmare he made himself into. If he ever got out, Deuc wondered if his answer to what next may need to be not only killing his captors, but their families and anyone whose scent was on them? He could go bigger, beyond monstrous! Would that help? Would it keep him safe? Would it make him too powerful a thing to challenge for any reason?

Maybe?

Just as Deuc thought he was nearing the desperate bottom of futility; he heard the door to where he was being held opened. He knew he had not healed enough to take more. Maybe he would be fortunate and be killed this time. He doubted the man would do so though. Gerard enjoyed the pain he inflicted too much to let go of a toy.

Deuc sighed, within himself he was stealing himself for the next indescribable pain that was incoming. He didn’t even flash his red eyes to see a bit better through his blindness and the dark of the place he was. Sometimes when he didn’t “see” what was coming he could pretend even if for only precious seconds that he wasn’t here enduring the destruction of himself, the stripping of him. He tuned out like this for the slightest moment of his “self” separated from his body’s burden.

Notes:

So sorry I'm struggling to keep on schedule with this story. There's just so much to juggle in the story as well as my life being crazy right now! Thank you everyone so much for your patience <3

Chapter 15: Betrayed

Summary:

Woods. Trap. Fight. Wolf's Bane. Death?

Notes:

**Trigger warning** for blood and violence

Early evening at the far edge of Baeth county…

The drive had been eerily quiet even with Stiles driving the SUV. Derek had rented a black SUV just before they had left to make sure everyone fit in the vehicle. Somehow, Stiles was still who drove them all: Erica, Boyd, Peter, Allison, Cora, Adrian, Ethan, Aiden, and Derek crammed In. in the back, all Stiles’ peers were doubled up in the seats in the back with Peter in the very back past the seats and Derek sitting shotgun. The later still seemed grouchy about not driving the vehicle he had rented. Or maybe that was a cover for the anxiety of once again looking to face off with the geriatric monster of all their nightmares.

The silence was strangely otherworldly for Stiles. In some ways, it geared him up for what was coming, and in other ways, it gave him the chance to think too hard. At the least, it was allowing Stiles a chance to come up with a plan on top of the original one he had told Derek he had.

Stiles was surprised that Derek had not tried to intimidate the plan out of him when Stiles had not immediately revealed every step of it. Although Peter would’ve helped, Stiles suspected it was far more about that Derek was ready to be done with this. It was strange how eager he was to get this done—not quite like the Derek he thought he knew.

Then again, did Stiles really know Derek? Plus, they were on their way to face the man Derek had been forced to bite as well as who had been part of burning his family alive. Perhaps it wasn’t so hard to understand, and not really that strange to have such silent determination to face your nightmare and win.

Once they arrived near their destination: a seemingly random stretch of woods alongside the highway. Cutting through the woods carefully, Stiles parked the SUV at least a mile away. Even though Derek had argued for further, Stiles had countered that this was more reasonable for the return with wounded.

During the walk from the vehicle, Stiles quietly filled everyone in on the plan, as loose as it was: “Quiet entry and keeping everything quiet until we literally cannot anymore. Then we break—Ally and Peter with me to search for those we are here to rescue—”

Derek interrupted with a growl. Likely a growl at still having not been told who the second person they were there to rescue even was.

Stiles gave Derek a look of frustration he’d been trying to hold back before continuing. “If shit gets too crazy, Ally will hang back and it’ll be just Peter and I searching. Everyone else? All you need to do is buy time and not let us get trapped in there. Things could change some on the fly, so keep an ear out because there is no way to know what we’re walking into until we are on the inside. Regardless, Gerard is NOT a kill on sight affair. Getting everyone out in one piece with Deucalion among us is the priority. We’re not trying to fight a war or start one. It’s a rescue mission: no time for vendettas.”

Derek huffed. “I’ll kill Gerard. We can provide cover for them, but also try to dispatch as many hunters as we can and hunt down Gerard.”

Stiles rolled his eyes: good to know Derek was not going to follow what Stiles had said. He made a mental note to be as quick as possible to get this all done. For better or worse, Stiles knew he would likely be unveiling that he has magic now, but hopefully he would not wear himself too thin to drive. He was likely not going to have a chance at a nap.

The rest of the walk was silent. Stiles was surprised Derek didn’t charge forward to just deal with this with his words on Gerard. Grateful that so far it was not how things were going, Stiles kept going until the location was in sight for the wolves and humans. He and the others crouched down behind some shrubbery.

It was an old warehouse-looking situation of a building, but without the assumed rust due to it being built of wood. There were guard patrols of hunters. Two men to a patrol but there was more than one patrol. Stiles took this to mean they likely were planning to move Deuc, and this really was likely to be their last chance to get him and the Leprechaun out.

Stiles got Peter’s attention and motioned for the wolf to be beside him. Once Peter was within touching distance, Stiles laid a hand on the man’s wrist for them to be tied together mentally once again by the dark kitsune.

Stiles asked Peter mentally, ‘I’d rather play shadow games, but should I just magically blow our way in to cut down on the casualties due to Derek’s take on things?’

Peter furrowed his brow, showing his relation to Derek quite strongly in that action, and looked around at what they were looking at before saying mentally, ‘I think it would cause every hunter there to fall upon us in a swift end reaction if we don’t follow your instincts.’

Nodding, Stiles let Peter go, but then said quietly aloud for the pack he was Alpha of to hear, “If I die, I am going to pass my Alpha Spark to you, Peter. This time you will at least have a pack to keep you settled.”

Peter seemed quite disturbed by that. Rather than argue it in this inopportune moment, Peter pulled Stiles closer and kissed him for all he was worth even with how brief a contact it was. “For luck.”

Stiles was frozen in that moment. He didn’t really like surprise touch, even from people he trusted. At the same time, it was his first kiss. It was strangely good? He didn’t know what to think, so he just whispered, “Th-thank you… you too.”

Peter might have been holding in a chuckle, but Stiles was intentionally not watching to see but rather paying attention to the guard situation while trying to stop blushing, which seemed more of a losing battle than the one they may be facing.

Without fan fair, Derek seemed to roll his eyes, but Stiles couldn’t tell for sure as the man had begun sneaking closer with Adrian on his tail.

Stiles then looked to Boyd, saying, “Help him not get himself killed, please?”

Boyd gave a quick nod before following Derek’s train. The teen seemed to be loosening himself up for a fight already.

Stiles sighed, took Boyd’s loosening up as a sign of just how real this all was about to get, and then motioned for the rest of them to follow him to approach from an alternate angle and side to cover more ground between the packs.

Where Derek was taking a more head on approach, Stiles led the others to what looked like a side door. He really didn’t want to risk anyone more than he had too. He admitted to himself that maybe Derek was doing the same even if Stiles didn’t understand it. Getting close to the side door, they waited a moment for the guards to pass by before rushing in and closing the door as quietly as they could, so that the guards may not realize what was going on just yet.

Inside now, they were in what appeared to be the “front room” of the structure. It was ready to go to war in there with not only armed hunters but also crates for cover and a few open ones that appeared to be filled with guns. Gerard was expecting an attempt to break Deuc out. There were bags of what he hoped were bullets and not just loose Wolf’s Bane powder. There were two different hunters with gatling guns, easily at least a dozen hunters just in this room milling around alert, and as it was there seemed to be a lot of Wolf’s Bane in the air as well as other things given the look on Peter’s face.

Stiles quietly stifled a groan. He quickly took off his outer shirt. He handed it to Peter, using hand signals to have him rip it into shreds of a sort. After Peter did as asked, Stiles handed strips to the others showing them to fold the strips a bit to layer the fabric some before tying it over their noses and mouths.

Aiden and Ethan didn’t accept them, instead ripping off their own shirt to use as masks once they saw what Stiles was having the other do.

Ally also folded and put on one of the strips of fabric like the wolves did.

Stiles barely refrained from letting loose a loud ‘fuck’ in response to what they were looking at facing while he held the last strip of fabric in his hand. Stiles leaned back a little, whispering, “Ally, they’re going to need you out here. Erica, get Allison to high ground where she can be snipping while all the other chaos is happening. Peter, you’re still with me. Cora too. Sadly, shock and awe is going to be part of this to protect Boyd and the others. Stay close though. I can’t take bullets as well as you guys sometimes can.”

Then, Stiles looked to Ethan and Aiden as he whispered. “I want you two out here to help Boyd and the others. Keep in mind, you are also possibly who will be helping to create an opening in the fighting for us all to get out.”

With all of his present pack giving nods of understanding, Stiles stood fully up and walked out into the large room just as he heard Derek starting shit up front. Stiles spoke loudly on purpose. “Why me oh my, this TRAP seems fit to have a chance versus the Hulk!”

The moment he spoke those words, Stiles had startled the hunters who had been aiming toward the front door primarily. Stiles stepped a bit more forward to draw their attention as Derek broke through the front entry point.

Stiles used both occurring for Erica and Ally to slip past mostly unseen. Maybe Stiles put a spell on them to go unseen? Hell, Stiles knew he did. Stiles spared a quick silent thanks for all his magical practice and research since the encounter with the witches and Scott months ago.

He had done the same unseen spell for Peter. However, the spell on Peter wouldn’t last as long as there were ways to get people to see you, like attacking them and or making a lot of noise. It wasn’t a terribly strong spell, but it bought time that Stiles hoped would help everyone get out okay enough to live. He even did the same for the twins who were honorary pack members in Stiles’ mind. They listened to him like that so far anyways as it was.

Motioning for Ethan and Aiden to move ahead, Stiles used his magic to cause all the bullets to fall out the gatling guns as well as detach the lines of ammunition from them. Stiles then stepped further forward as Ethan and Aiden joined the fight Derek, Adrian, and Boyd had already started.

Seeing Boyd hurl himself in a group of hunters without anything to protect his breathing made Stiles worry, but there was no time. He motioned his hand to rip guns out of hunter’s hands all along the way to go deeper into the warehouse building with Peter and Cora at his side after putting on a folded piece of fabric over his nose and mouth like the wolves. Suddenly, Stiles was grabbed hard and thrown into a room to the left.

Stiles did not get even a gasp out before Peter’s claws ripped through the man who had grabbed Stiles with apparently a dagger in his hand. Stiles knew he’d been sliced but intentionally hid it as best he could.

Peter showed no mercy in his attack, ripping the man in half much like how the hunters often bifurcated the supernatural creatures they found. The blood splatter was barely forced toward being an afterthought as Stiles moved to get out of the dark room. He had to keep going.

Stiles rolled his shoulders as he, Cora, and Peter moved quietly deeper into the building. Within less than a minute, they encountered another hunter who got a shot out before Stiles threw him through two walls with a flick of magical force. Moving closer to Peter, Stiles worked to keep his voice quiet and hands steady as he touched Peter to check for damage. “Are you hit?”

Peter’s hands came to grasp Stiles’ pulling the teen’s hands away from himself. “I’ll live.”

Stiles nodded, knowing the werewolf could easily see the motion in the dark conditions. Stiles honestly wondered why the hunters would keep things so dark since they too only had human sight like Stiles. He then looked to Cora—“Are you hit?”

She did not orally respond but flashed her gold eyes at him with some kind of grunt.

Because he didn’t have time or light enough to translate the Hale-brand communication, Stiles stayed on task. Shoving away the internal commentary for now, Stiles created a small magical orb in his hand. He held it cupped in both his hands to his face. He whispered nearly silently to the orb. “Find fey.”

Once released, the orb glowed blue and raced ahead.

Stiles without enough thought took off to follow the orb while pulling a handgun from his belt holster. He had taken the opportunity to “borrow” the weapon from Chris Argent. Seemed quite fitting as that man’s basement was where Stiles had been tortured and aimed onto this path.

Less than five steps forward and a hunter came out shooting.

Peter jumped in front of Stiles to take the bullets rather than his human Alpha.

At the same time, Stiles ducked down and shot with a double tap to the head from an upward angle between Peter’s legs.

The hunter’s corpse collapsed to the ground and both Stiles and Peter kept moving. They had an orb to follow.

The orb glowed brighter and brighter the closer it got to what it was told to seek.

Cora dropped to about three feet behind taking on a couple hunters that had tried to catch them at the back.

About twenty feet diagonally as the crow flies, Stiles and Peter crept into a room that turned out to have about five hunters guarding a squat cage wrapped in iron chains at the corner behind them. It seemed Gerard was not reckless in his maintaining possession of the Leprechaun fey.

Peter took another shot for Stiles as the spark ripped the weapons out of the hunter’s hands in time to give Peter an open range on evisceration meeting Stiles’ violent expectations of buckets of blood splatter. At the same time, Stiles knelt beside the cage the orb was hovering beside.

Stiles left the orb hovering for light as he slowly unlocked with magic and by hand unwrapped the layers of iron chains around the squat iron cage. Once the sounds of cruel hunter-earned violence ebbed, Stiles finally got all the chains off and the cage open. Stiles whispered a soft, “Good luck” toward the cage as he grabbed and extinguished the magic orb that had led them to this area.

Standing, Stiles cupped his hands together again, constructing another small orb. To this one, he whispered near silent- quietly. “Find the Demon Wolf.”

As he spoke, the orb turned blood red. The color grew dark yet more vibrant when released. Stiles could not help but frown at the color shift. He’d expected it too to be blue. He didn’t bother to even sigh. He just chased after the orb as he had the other.

Peter seemed to be keeping up just fine even though Stiles knew the old wolf had to be losing quite a bit of blood at this point.

At the same time, Cora was so quiet yet effective at helping Peter and protecting Stiles that it was a little too easy to miss her. Stiles made the mental note to ask her how she got to be so damn quiet once they were all done with this chaos.

At the same time, the violent battle between the hunters and supernatural at the front of the building could still be heard. Stiles wondered if somehow there was an endless supply of hunters present for butchering. The mental image was disgusting, but it was nothing compared to the smells he detected as he rushed forward, shooting three different hunters along the way, killing only two, but hearing Peter and Cora address the third violently and quick along with a few others. Soon they came to a door that the orb kept bouncing against.

Clearly the room was magic proofed, hence the orb being unable to enter as well as explain why the attempts to track down Deucalion’s location had failed so anti-climatically. Stiles began manually trying to get through the lock mechanism on the door. Peter finally just ripped into the door claws first with Cora until they could rip it off its hinges.

With the door open, the orb moved into the room illuminating Deuc’s mangled, cut open body suspended from what Stiles assumed were overhead beams.

The once terrifying Demon Wolf was strung up like a mouse pinned up for a cat. Stiles had not been ready to see this. He had not been ready to see the nearly dead look in Deucalion’s eyes let alone his everything as Stiles increased the orb until it ‘popped’ to light the entire room.

Stiles wanted to touch, maybe take a pulse, but there was nothing for him to do. He was not sure at first if Deuc was alive, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to know either. Deuc’s gut was cut open, part of his intestines hanging out. Not much, but enough to nauseate.

Refraining from what felt disingenuously dramatic by clamping his hand or hands over his mouth, Stiles let his arms hang limp at his side as he stared. He felt pinned in place like a bug dead on display behind glass. There was nothing like a hunter’s cruel work on the metaphoric wall to sour every thought or feeling possible.

While Stiles was frozen in place still, Peter moved closer. The wolf of a man seemed concerned in his own guarded way. The best giveaways were that one of his eyes kept flashing black on and off. Stiles presumed that meant the Peter was both conversating with and taking respite in the dark kitsune.

Talk about irony.

Even though someone normal may be suspicious of that, Stiles somehow was not. He trusted Peter to have a handle on it. Would he reach out to Stiles for help if things became a problem? It was not clear one way or the other, but Stiles trusted him no less to reach out to someone for help.

Stiles took a small step forward as he saw Peter touch Deuc, arm going nearly completely black at first from all the pain there was to draw. Peter ripped his hand off the once intimidating Demon Wolf quickly as though he had burned his hand.

Then, both of Peter’s eyes went black. Once both eyes were blackened, Peter touched Deuc with both hands. He still made growling sounds and was noticeably not taking ALL the pain. Instead, he seemed to be taking the normal blackened veins of standard healing levels of pain.

It was hard not to worry after Peter’s first reaction to taking some of Deuc’s pain.

Stiles then looked to Cora and motioned for her to run and help the others at the front of the warehouse.

Deucalion seemed to visibly come to true awareness after Peter had been draining pain for a moment or so. He mumbled something and then closed his eyes, passing out.

Peter then gritted out—“We are going to need help to get him down. Allison would work. Then another wolf to help get him out.”

Stiles nodded and moved to leave.

However, Peter growled loud, nearly ferally. “NO! No leaving. Come here.”

Seemingly dark kitsune controlled, Peter reached out a hand to Stiles.

Stiles touched Peter’s hand, but he did not feel the kitsune seeping into him like normal. Instead, Peter’s hand was just Peter’s hand.

Before Stiles could say anything about it, the smoker’s cough of a voice of the kitsune came out of Peter’s mouth: “Together. Think about her, anything you can grasp onto, and I’ll call in my mind to hers.”

Stiles did not bother to hesitate. They were in the middle of a huge fight against hunters with likely several wounded wolves by now. He closed his eyes and focused on every detail of Ally that he could.

Only moments later she and Erica came bursting into the room, seemingly expecting the worst, but then stopped short at seeing Deuc and the state he was in.

Erica gasped. “I… am so glad you rescued us.”

Stiles had opened his eyes at them bursting in and had let go of Peter’s hand.

Ally did not look her best, a bit pale, but not much blood. Erica, on the other hand had several stab wounds and cuts. The Wolf’s Bane poisoning in her veins was apparent but nowhere near her heart yet, thankfully.

Stiles moved closer to the girls. “Okay?”

Ally nodded before setting aside her bow and pulled out a long-bladed knife. “Cut him loose?”

Stiles nodded while gently touching Deuc’s cut up body in horror. “In a moment, yes.”

Before Stiles could give further instructions, the kitsune’s voice again came from Peter’s mouth. “Erica? I need you to help me take Deuc’s weight so we can catch him once he’s cut free.”

Not needing to be told twice, Erica was quick to stand behind Deuc toward his head with her hands under his neck and chest to hold him securely in place once released.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading!

Chapter 16: First Shoe Drops

Summary:

Weak. Humiliated. Pain relief.

Notes:

Thank you for being patient with my inconsistent updates and chapter lengths!

**Trigger Warning** Reference to violence and rape.

Unexpectedly, Deuc heard a gasp then nothing. It was then he processed that the door had not been closed. What was happening? Was it another training day for some young hunter? Usually, they were experienced enough to not react like that to his mutilated body.

Then he thought he heard a young man’s voice. “Is he alive?”

Taking a shaky and anticipating breath, Deucalion steeled himself for whatever fresh new pain and possible humiliation he was going to endure. He also reminded himself that he could not tense. That always made it worse while also encouraging excitement potentially, which could lead down even worse roads.

Then, what Deuc thought sounded like two sets of steps approached him. Next there were gentle probing fingers along his skin near his open cut wound from someone with a racing heart.

Even though Deuc did not want to tense, at the probing he did. His ability to control his reactions was near gone anymore, but he kept trying not sure if he was dreaming or awake. Deucalion kept reminding himself that he was the demon wolf. It had hollow ring to it anymore, but at least he was trying.

A stronger, more direct touch of a hand on his lower back broke Deucalion as that touch took his pain: a wolf!

Tears began falling from his eyes not only in relief, but also humiliation at being seen like this. He knew he was naked, weak, and still had damage and the smells of what Gerard had done to Deuc’s anus. He could not hold back a single emotion. Deucalion didn’t know if he wanted rescue, to die, or some other third thing he was in no position to hypothesize about right now.

The gentle fingers softly wiped some at his tears, saying, “We’re going to get you out of here, get you help.”

Deuc cried more hysterically, unable to hold back the range of emotions he felt at that. After only a few seconds, he felt his wounds being bandaged by the gentle touch while the strong, firm touch remained on Deuc, taking some of his pain. The pain relief also contributed to his hysteria even as he heard them talking.

Racing heart kept bandaging Deuc’s wounds. “We need to get him medical attention, Peter.”

Peter kept his hand on Deuc, syphoning pain while slowly unwrapping the rope around Deucalion’s neck. “Not a hospital.”

“Hmm… think Melissa could help? Like, be enough to give him a chance?”

“We’ll have to tell her the truth.”

Just then, someone burst into the area, half growling, half speaking: “We need to get out of here, now!”

“It’s worth it, Peter. Gerard can’t have him.”

Even though he knew they were possibly still speaking, Deuc let himself pass out. Maybe this was a delusion, maybe it was a trick. He was exhausted. Even if this were a delusion from death, he didn’t care. Pain relief was too much for him to stay conscious with his exhaustion.

Notes:

Do you prefer shorter chapters more often or longer ones less often? Can't promise to switch over instantly, just open to trying something different if that's something y'all are interested in.

Chapter 17: Meet Me in the Battlefield

Summary:

Peter sling. Double-taps. Gerard. Friendly fire. Magic.

Notes:

**Trigger Warning** Depictions of violence.

Once Erica was in place both Peter and the dark kitsune knew the lift would be no big deal. They just weren’t sure just how much jostling the Demon Wolf could take right now, especially with his guts falling out even if only a little bit.

Before things moved any further though, Stiles spoke. “Wait. There’s some medical equipment here. We should try to at least wrap his wounds to prevent excess Wolf’s Bane poisoning beyond whatever he’s already dealing with.”

At those words, Stiles and Allison grabbed up what they could and got Deuc wrapped up as fast and well as they could under the circumstances. When that was finished, Deuc was already starting to bleed through Allison and Stiles’ hard work. The Alpha and hunter began cutting Deuc loose from the beam high overhead.

Just then, Cora burst in. “We need to get out of here, now!”

She then took back off the way she had come.

Once the last line was cut on Deucalion, Stiles had Allison go to the door to check if any hunters were coming close to them. Stiles was also unwrapping some of the likely more painful roping on Deuc’s body that had not already fallen off, like the roping around his neck that Peter’d started on that had left marks on the Demon Wolf’s throat due to Wolf’s Bane being woven into the rope.

Peter would gladly pay any price to never have to deal with Wolf’s Bane again so long as he lived. Sadly, life just wasn’t that easy. With Erica’s help, Peter set Deuc evenly on the ground. He then gathered up some of the loose bites of rope. He quickly tied together some of it into something akin to a net sling one might use for a small child, but it was grown man sized.

It seemed reasonable to Peter and the kitsune to try and make carrying Deuc a situation that would put everyone involved hands free with the Demon Wolf off the ground but out of the way. It was hard to save anyone when you couldn’t defend yourself while carrying them.

While Peter made quick work with the rope crafting, Stiles used the extra gauze bandaging to make a form of a mask for Deuc to reduce the inhaled Wolf’s Bane on the route to get out of there. Once the mask was made, Stiles quickly secured it onto the Demon Wolf.

Once finished putting the ropes together into a makeshift sling, Peter was able to with Erica and Stiles’ help get Deuc safely on it. Then together they all lifted it and Deuc onto Peter so that Deuc was mostly behind Peter, but his shoulders head and arms were tilted over Peter’s right shoulder.

With a bit more added rope to make sure both Peter and Deuc would be okay with the strapping and knots as well as the overall fit and security, Peter moved closer to the door.

Allison whispered from the door. “Lots of fighting sounds like the fight is moving closer, but no one close to the door yet.”

Stiles nodded. “Erica front, Peter back. Ally, behind but slightly to the side of me. I’ll be behind and slightly to the other side of Erica.”

With his words out, Stiles dropped the empty clip of bullets from his weapon and quickly reloaded it with what to Peter seemed a practiced familiar motion.

Peter could not help but enjoy the intelligence and quick thinking of his Alpha. It reminded both Peter and the dark kitsune why he was their Alpha.

Letting the black drain from his eyes to keep the kitsune’s presence a secret as they had all been from the pretty much the start, Peter straightened up to take Deuc’s weight while having some freedom of movement.

Before he could count the ways, Erica had already started their not- so- slow movement out of the room and the overall area of the building they were in.

As they moved forward, it was obvious that Allison had grabbed her bow before they left the room as both she and Stiles were soon firing their weapons of choice to cut through the surprising numbers of hunters still there. Had there been more in hiding? Did they expect a war? A last stand, here?

Once they had pushed forward enough to be within sight of the front room, Stiles called out, “Ethan, Aiden—incoming! Boyd, clear a path! We’re getting the fuck out of here!”

Once he and the others got out into the front room, Peter could see exactly why with only about a baker’s dozen hunters or so the fight was still ongoing. Derek and Boyd had no masks helping to reduce the amount of Wolf’s Bane they were inhaling, and the twins were no longer wearing their masks as they had combined into one, likely shedding the masks in the process. It was in the air more and more thickly the longer they were there it appeared. The hunters also heavily had machine guns in the front room which made slash and awe tactics let alone vengeance work about as smoothly as they may otherwise.

Erica didn’t need to be told to get moving as she lunged forward and over a hunter to thrust her claws through two more while Stiles gunned down the one that she had leapt over. Alison was alternating firing arrows and just grabbing arrows and stabbing people with them.

Ethan cried out in pain as did Aiden as they took hatchet hits that cause them to split.

Cora slipped behind one of the hatchet-wielding hunters and ripped his throat out.

Stiles appeared to be slowing some with the poisoned air, but there was only so much that could be done while they were trying to escape.

Having caught a glimpse of what Cora did, Stiles could not help but think of Derek’s threats to rip out his throat with his teeth once upon a time. Stiles then broke rank to step out and shoot a double tap into the head of the next hunter trying to hatchet Ethan.

At the same time Stiles shot the hunter from the front, Aiden slammed both claws into the hunter through the back. As the hunter collapsed into being a corpse on the ground, Aiden gave Stiles a nod.

The human Alpha did not join rank. Instead, Stiles shot his way into more of the middle of the open area of the building, then speedily reloaded his weapon.

Erica and Allison were still slogging through as a unit trying to get closer to the front door that Stiles had them heading toward with Peter hauling Deuc behind them.

Stiles shot a double tap into a hunter who seemed to seek to surprise Peter from the side to which Peter gave a bloodied smile. He was starting to have blood rising in his throat due to some of his wounds, but it did not stop him from pushing himself forward, pushing himself harder and farther. Poisoned air was still getting through his mask some.

Stiles worked his way to the side, almost out of Peter’s line of sight, which the older wolf did NOT appreciate at all! Then Stiles announced over the fighting: “Erica—stick tighter to Peter. Ally, cut a swath ahead to help Ethan and Aiden.”

After moving a bit to shoot at what appeared to be a would-be sniper who seemed to be positioning himself up among the beams overhead. Stiles let off another two double taps into the rafters to take out another trying for sniping too while narrowly managing not to be shot himself.

Stiles took a slice to the side through just barely noticing the hunter surprising him at the side. For better or worse, Stiles lifted his hand to stop the attack. In the process, he was sliced across one hand while dropping his weapon and grabbing the knife blade with his other hand. Stiles then slammed his head into the hunter’s, causing the man to drop the weapon.

Stumbling back up quickly and managing to grab his weapon up, Stiles got a shot or two off at the hunter, so he stayed down.

Derek was howling and growling near ferally as he attacked hunters with abandon. Boyd was sticking close to Derek as ordered, brutal to a fault in his very bear-hug level tackles of claws and teeth violence. Adrian seemed to be flailing. He was alive but notably under skilled for something like this.

Stiles got himself closer to Aiden, saying, “Help Adrian, I’ve got Ethan.”

Aiden frowned and flipped the Alpha off, but he did as told in the heat of the loud, bloody, and chaotic mess that everything had become.

Stiles helped Ethan up, slipping one of Ethan’s arms over his shoulders. Stiles then announced: “Red light!”

Even though it had not been previously discussed as a code word or signal of any kind, Peter understood that it likely meant to pull back without telling all the hunters what they were doing.

With Erica so close, Peter grabbed her shoulder to get her attention to motion toward what was intended even if she had not understood the BDSM code to stop everything. It was retreat, and he wanted to do as his Alpha saw fit, especially with the number of hunters not appearing to abate at all beyond moving positions.

Peter did catch a glimpse of people—hunters really—coming out of the back where they had been before. He suspected there was underground access somewhere back there holding more hunters.

Stiles, still helping Ethan through to a different exit than where Peter had pointed Erica to, hollered. “Let’s go Derek!”

Ally was already joined with Aiden heading toward Stiles’ clearly intended exit location. When Aiden and Ally got closer Stiles pulled out the keys to the SUV hollering, “Aiden!” then throwing the keys to the other Alpha. “Get ‘er started.”

Aiden nodded and then sped pass them all, waiting for no one.

Ally stuck with Adrian to help get him out as he was bleeding badly with black veins.

Stiles then sent Ally and Adrian ahead while pausing with Ethan. He set Ethan down a moment before yelling silently his magical intent, knocking over a swath of hunters to clear the path for Ally and Adrian to get out more easily. With a partial turn Stiles did the same silent yell of magic with added hand motions to clear a path even if only for a moment for Erica and Peter to get out with Deuc.

Peter waited at the door, pushing Erica to keep going. Peter would not, could not leave without his Alpha. He refused to EVER lose an alpha again. Especially like this, to hunters. The kitsune didn’t mind as it fed of all the chaos, pain, and violence that was all around.

Stiles called out. “Cora, pull him out!”

Cora cut herself a path to Derek; however, at the same time, Gerard revealed himself, chuckling like the insane species purist and sadist he was.

Derek further seemed to lose himself, trying to fight his way further inside instead of getting the hell out while they could. Derek seemed determined to fight his way through every possible hunter just to spill a drop of Gerard’s blood on the ground.

Not seeing another option, Stiles yelled. “Cora, get down!”

Once she hit the ground for cover, Stiles shot Derek in both his legs to force them to crumble beneath him.

Stiles then moved closer to Derek, yelling over the chaos to Cora, “Grab him!”

At the same time, Stiles whispered into his hand to form another little magic floating ball of white light before whispering to it. “Are there other creatures imprisoned here?”

The magic sphere went out immediately to signal that there were not.

Once back on her feet, Cora helped her brother out of the building by carrying his larger body slung over hers in a fireman carry despite his thrashing to be let loose and being pissed the fuck off at not getting to do as he clearly sought.

Stiles had Cora with Derek get out first. Clearly seeing Peter still in, Stiles growled—“Get out!”

Peter nodded before stepping out, but he didn’t go too far.

Not a full second later, Stiles stepped out from a different entrance that Peter could see him exit with Ethan while whispering something into the air that smelled strongly of ozone, .

Once again, Stiles settled Ethan on the ground for a moment. He then raised his hands up fingers splayed and arms wide. The teen was silently saying something, but just as before, Peter couldn’t tell quite what was being said or even, doubting it was said aloud at all. After only a few seconds, Stiles slammed his hands together in a resounding clap of magical force and sounds far more massive than it had originally seemed like it could possibly be.

Peter, with his bloody grin fell in line with Stiles’ pace moving forward while also closing the space between them horizontally once Stiles had helped Ethan back up and started working his way back toward the SUV.

Continually reminding himself in his mind that the kitsune’s growing strength was helping him make it back to the Stilinski home, Peter still had to fight through his body’s fatigue at how hard he’d been pushing himself through his own wounds in all the chaos and movement. He had multiple Wolf’s Bane laced bullet wounds in him to say nothing of anything else that had gotten him but may have gone unnoticed with all the pain he was taking from Deuc and the adrenaline.

Peter just hoped his Alpha was okay. He had concerns of the consequences on the Alpha’s energy levels with his uses of magic. Peter also made a mental note to get everyone stacks and stacks of energy providing food. He’d think about cooking if he weren’t so exhausted. He figured once in the SUV on the way back to the Stilinski house he could order on his phone for delivery— maybe pizza? Thankfully he had his credit card number memorized to prevent easy access of others with his literal card. He kept it hidden and locked up nice and safe where no one would ever suspect, under Stiles’ bed.

Peter was also desperately working to keep his mind off the pain his was still absorbing from Deuc as well as his own pains, injuries, exhaustion, and more. He had to stay focused on the goal—the end game of this outing: getting everyone safely to the Stilinski home. Even if every part of this took his breath and a step at a time, Peter could not, would not dare risk letting himself pause or quicken or in any way surrender to either Gerard or even his own body. He could and would do this. They would all do this.

It also helped to remind himself that he had made a deal and fuck if he’d welch on a deal over personal hardship. They had gotten Cora back with this. He would not for a second risk them somehow taking her back. No one would be able, allowed to harm what was left of his family, even himself through surrender. He would do this. Even if it cost him his life, he would give it all for his family, to his family. It may be penance for his killing Laura, blaming Derek, or even just his own weaknesses and failures as a Left hand of his pack, to his dead sister, his dead Alpha.

He could be better and come hell or highest of mountains of water he would get it done. While he may not have been able to save his family in the fire despite his best efforts, Peter knew he could at least save what was left of his family as well as what there was of his pack.

With another pained and bloody breath and another and another, Peter arrived at the SUV that already had Aiden in the driver seat with the engine running as well as Adrian and Allison in the vehicle.

Stiles, who arrived at about the same time as Peter, helped Ethan into the SUV to sit in the back seat, visible to his brother from the front through the back- facing mirror. With Ethan secured and buckled up, Stiles went about getting everyone else in the vehicle and accounted for before trying to get in the front seat.

Peter’s Alpha looked so tired. Without a word, Peter had not gotten into the vehicle even after putting Deuc in. Peter had wanted to wait to see what Stiles would do, could do. However, upon seeing for himself Stiles’ weak attempt to get in, Peter slid into shotgun around Stiles. Peter then from his seat swept Stiles up and deposited onto his lap.

Stiles groaned. “Are we seriously doing this?”

Aiden was already working to back out onto the highway when Peter closed his door.

Boyd grunted out. “No time for seat changes.”

Stiles groaned again even as he leaned into Peter and rested his head on the wolf’s chest. “If you tell ANY—”

Peter’s Alpha as interrupted by Aiden having to gun it through a dip on the side of the road to get onto the asphalt.

Stiles’ words were replaced with an almost silent whimper.

Notes:

I felt so bad for my having posted a tiny chapter that was originally a part of a bigger one. I was worried I wouldn't finish it in time for today, so I just posted a piece of it. Got lucky, and finished on time due to some surprise extra sleep I got last night, and wanted to post to make it up to you for posting something so short.

Hope you enjoy <3

Chapter 18: Wounded Bodies

Summary:

Pain. Treatment. Reflections. Mel.

Stilinski home…

Although he wouldn’t say it, Stiles felt some level of connection to Deucalion. They had both been tortured by the same man. Stiles knew it sounded insane on some level, but Duke had survived the intense torture as Stiles, Erica, and Boyd had. Did they all experience equal levels of torture? No, but Stiles had no doubt that Erica and Boyd would look a lot more like Duke potentially if they had not been rescued.

Stiles found little comfort in that though as Deucalion bled through his bandages on the dining room table. Having already called to warn his Dad that they’d made it in and out okay with a severely damaged wolf, Stiles supported that his Dad chose to stay at work to have things appear normal.

Having not warned his Dad about Melissa being called in, Stiles felt secure that his Dad’s worries about this rescue had at least been eased. Stiles also left out how much damage the pack had taken. Getting everyone taken care of was more important than a long explanation over the phone with his Dad. That could wait until later.

Having been told to stay here during the rescue, Lydia had prepped the dining room table as well as a couple other spots for whatever damage had been done to the pack. She also had medical supplies from first aid kits the group had bought several of before they made their move to rescue the Demon Wolf as well as Stiles’ special Wolf’s Bane blend.

Additionally, she had a bunch of the green cream and more magical tinctures and pastes to help with healing Wolf’s Bane poisoning. She had also had a few lighters as well as “borrowed” a metal welder’s torch from Beacon High to burn off some of the Wolf’s Bane as well.

Currently, Lydia was burning off Wolf’s Bane from a few wounds on Erica as the she-wolf had managed to get nipped a few times with Wolf’s Bane tipped knives. Sadly, fortunate for not having in her the bullets many of the wolves had gotten in the raid of the hunter den where Deucalion was held. Hence doing Erica with the torch to finish her quickly.

Stiles was far better after his nap in the car than many of the wolves. Yes, he was exhausted and had been bruised in his efforts lifting, carrying, and setting down Ethan multiple time, but he also had Peter draining some of the exhaustion on the ride home even though they both knew he shouldn’t waste his strength like that when wounded. Besides, he couldn’t help but look around at his pack and Derek’s with pride: they saved Deuc AND all made it home.

And, even when Peter figured out that Stiles was indeed bleeding, Stiles was able to calm and appease the wolf by letting him bandage the wounds once they got to home base.

While he was proud of everyone there, Stiles still had to keep his focus really on Duke. Stiles was cleaning up what wounds he could while getting ready to burn the Wolf’s Bane off Duke’s wounds, which included the amputated just below the knee leg.

Allison looked haunted in the eyes, but she was bandaging herself up, nonetheless. The huntress had managed not to be shot at all; however, she’d taken hits, falls, slices, and one or two stabs. Her hair was still pulled back from before the fight, and she had not so far bothered to clean up the blood on her beyond cleaning the wounds themselves. She’d promised Lydia already that she was okay and wasn’t hurt too badly.

While patching herself up, Allison looked to Stiles. “My Dad has been texting me like crazy. He’s demanding to know where I am, and if I’m with you.”

Stiles sighed. “Just tell him to head our way. There’s not much he can do about it now.”

-

Ethan and Aiden had taken over a good half dozen bullets each and were sitting on the kitchen floor up against the back door, so they could secure the entrance and work on their wounds together. Thankfully, about a bit more than half went all the way through them, so no one had to worry about digging out those bullets, but they were still stuck taking turns burning the Wolf’s Bane out of each other’s wounds. Thankfully they’d managed to separate in the fight to share bullet wounds rather than being one, single bulk of a body filled with bullets and other wounds.

Plus, with the hatchet hits and other stab wounds, Ethan and Aiden were still each a mosaic of black-veined Wolf’s Bane poisoning. Somehow, they each managed to partially mirror each other’s wounds while clearly taking the burning off the Wolf’s Bane differently. Ethan whined a bit quietly to his brother. Aiden did not. He just looked pissed at the situation overall, seemingly grinding his teeth to keep from making a single sound.

Aiden took a lot of deep breaths, gently squeezing Ethan at different spots to solidify that they’d made it out. He did not ever want to face the world without his twin. After everything they’d already been through, like Ennis’ training of them, Aiden refused to allow them to perish or ever be severed from one another. They were each other’s solid, each other’s stone base, foundation.

He knew he fight to his last breath for his brother while knowing also that Ethan would do the same for him. Swallowing yet another growl of pain, Aiden continued to sprinkle the Wolf’s Bane blend into Ethan’s wounds and burn the Wolf’s Bane out. Aiden had to give to the human alpha. At the least, Stiles was resourceful.

Even in the pain he endured and the care he gave his brother, Aiden did not dare forget that he was among enemies. They had a deal for Ethan and his safety, but Aiden knew to never let his guard down fully.

This was untrod territory, and not just because Stiles was a human alpha. No, they were alphas having to depend on unknown alphas all over again as they had to back when Deuc showed them how to escape the abuses they endured in their original pack. Allies could be more dangerous than enemies and the line between was far to thin right now to relax.

As a result, with one part of him focused on his brother and himself, Aiden focused the other part of himself on the others in the area. No one was above his distrust right now, even Deuc. Especially Deuc after everything he’d already put them through.

Derek was currently digging out the couple bullets that were still in his own body. He’d started pulling the bullets out of himself on the ride home while he was giving angry looks at pretty much everyone who was conscious. Derek had easily taken well over a dozen bullets overall, though no one had been able to count them but thankfully at least half went all the way through.

He was close to getting started getting the Wolf’s Bane burned out of his wounds where he stood near the stairs in the livingroom. He also took numerous bladed weapons all over him that he also needed to burn out too for Wolf’s Bane poisoning. Consequently, Derek was made of a lot of black veins seeking out his heart.

Adrian had passed out from blood loss and violence-based shock on the ride home. He’d been among the first to receive medical care from Lydia. He’d taken four bullets, dozens of lacerations, an unclear amount of blood loss, and was still bruised all to hell and back. He also was still unconscious laid out face down on the couch.

-

Peter had taken a couple standard bullets that were intended for Stiles as well as about a half dozen poisoned bullets in his left side and less in his right shoulder next to where Deuc’s head and arms had been. Peter was slowly digging out what he could from himself with one hand while easing Duke’s pain with his other hand.

The wolfman had offered to do so to Stiles more when they got out of the SUV, but he had refused. Stiles had said that Duke needed it more right now.

It was hard to fight that when what Peter really meant was that Deuc was a bypass on the route to get and keep Cora safe, but Deuc did not matter otherwise. However, Stiles did matter. As it was, Peter’s wolf was still pacing within him, demanding to crowd Stiles away into his room for Peter to check on and hold and keep safe.

Peter did not want to lose anyone ever again. The first had stolen so much from him over six years ago. He refused to go through such a thing again: losing someone he cared about, let alone nearly everyone he cared about. He closed his eyes for a moment, pausing in his efforts to dig out bullets or anything else really.

He just took a steadying if shaky breath as he couldn’t help but remember for just a moment what it felt like to lose his Alpha, his sister let alone to hear his wife burn, the woman carrying his unborn child. He still remembered the pain of realizing early on when he was recovering from his coma that his mating bite off like so much skin and hair. But unlike those other things when he healed her mating mark didn’t come back. It was the last bit, the last piece of her that he lost.

Slowly opening his eyes and resuming what he had been doing, Peter reminded himself that he is stronger now. He will never let any of that happen again. One breath at a time, he reminded himself. Just like he had in the beginning of being in the coma, imprisoned in his body unable to move. One breath, the next, and then another.

To keep himself from being swallowed by his own never-ending grieving, Peter took a look around as he worked. He also appeased his wolf with claiming that checking on the pack was like checking on Stiles as Stiles cared so much for his pack. The human Alpha was strong for them because he cared. Peter owed it to his Alpha to watch out for, protect what was important.

Just a couple feet from Ethan and Aiden, Boyd was face down on the kitchen floor partially shifted to keep his wounds from positions or tearing him more in the change. He had at least half a dozen bullets in him that needed digging out still. He’d had more than eight, but Boyd had already dug out some on the drive to help keep himself conscious. So far, due to still being shifted, it was hard to say what other wounds Boyd had as he was covered in his and others’ blood and even flesh: Boyd had clearly been a great fighter despite the poisoned air.

Cora sat at the dining room table with her hand on Deuc as well to help take pain too even though she had multiple stab wounds from Wolf’s Bane infused daggers and a couple bullets. Her poison damage had not been burned off yet, but she helped her uncle no less. It was a strange bonding moment between the two in digging bullets out of themselves and taking Deucalion’s pain. They also bonded in their disliking Stiles not accepting their pain-affecting help.

While he hated that she had been hurt at all, Peter was grateful that they were having this weird bonding of picking up the pieces after the fight. He was so proud of Cora and how strong she’d become. Peter only wished he could have been in her life more. Regardless, she was here now, and Peter refused to waste this chance. He loved her and would protect her just as he would Stiles, as he would this pack.

There was a knock at the door before Melissa burst in with a strong what-did-you-do facial expression. She had brought the medical items she was asked to bring, but upon seeing the big, hairy shifted form of the Boyd and the bullet wounds all around her, it seemed she may flee.

Before Melissa could really decide fight or flight, Stiles was there in front of her, shutting the front door while herding her to Deuc who was laid out on the covered dining room table.

Melissa gasped, covering her mouth in shock. She had not been at all ready for seeing someone so literally wrecked.

Stiles undid the bandages that Duke had already bled through to show Melissa more of why they’d called for her to come.

Melissa then seemed to slip into nurse, care-taker mode, which seemed to put on hold her fear and horror at the monsters in the room. “How long has he been in this state?”

Stiles shrugged. “Not sure. He’d been imprisoned and tortured for at least five months.”

Melissa’s shock returned, but it did not stop her from taking out supplies she had brought as well as getting into the open, available supplies provided by the pack. She looked to Stiles. “I need hot water and more towels. Also need some ice—colder the better. Got any anesthesia?”

Stiles signaled for Lydia to pause and join them. “Lydia, did you hear what she wants?”

With a nod, Lydia fully joined them.

After a smile at his favorite red-headed genius, Stiles looked to Deuc. “Please grab the towels. I’ll get the ice. How hot does the hot water need to be?”

Melissa watched them all openly. “Quite hot. Also, anesthesia?”

Stiles shook his head but motioned with his head toward Peter and Cora at the last part. “Not normal anesthesia, but they have it covered.”

He then moved to the kitchen. Stiles dumped all the ice in the freezer into a bowl that he brought to Melissa. Next, he set up the electric kettle before turning it on. Then, he refilled the ice trays and put them back in the freezer.

Peter could not help but watch the whole production, admittedly impressed by how thoroughly Mel could roll with the punches in an emergency. Almost made him wish he’d also turned her in his madness months ago. He also enjoyed watching Stiles get things done, managing the room so naturally, yet he never seemed to realize how captivated and cared for he had everyone.

Melissa ran a hand through her hair. “Oh, shit, do you have any alcohol?”

Stiles nodded. With all but the kettle still heating dealt with, he ran upstairs to where he knew his Dad’s secret stash of whiskey was. Once he had it, Stiles hurried downstairs to present it to Melissa.

Melissa frowned at what Stiles had provided, but she did not comment—not yet. “A good-sized clean bowl please?”

Lydia arrived in the dining room with the requested towels, having brought dish towels and bath towels. Once those were set down and having heard Mel, Lydia grabbed a good-sized bowl from a kitchen cabinet. She then brought it to Melissa.

Melissa sterilized the tools with the whiskey in the bowl Lydia had brought her.

The kettle went off.

While Stiles went to turn off the burner, Melissa sterilized a couple needles. Then she pulled on hospital gloves. Melissa started on icing and sterilizing Duke sliced open gut with a bit of his intestines starting to seep out with the bandage no longer on to hold it all in. Once the area seemed numb and clean, Melissa began to tuck the intestines carefully back into Duke and sew up the wound to seal it.

While Melissa was working to close the large wound, Stiles sent Lydia back to finishing up Erica before starting on Boyd who’d stated he needed Erica to be who did him. Stiles then grabbed a lighter and unwrapped Duke’s leg—or more aptly remaining upper portion of leg.

Upon looking closer, Stiles could see the Wolf’s Bane burns he knew Duke may have. “Peter, if a body part is removed and has Wolf’s Bane rubbed into it, could a transplant still work?”

Peter looked to Stiles and shook his head in answer. It was a brutal thing to do to a werewolf, but then again, Gerard was a monster. Based on the smells alone, the man had nothing low and vile he wouldn’t do to those he deemed inhuman, unworthy in some capacity.

-

Stiles’ sympathized with Deuc. It always hurt most when things were gone forever. Although not the same, Stiles understood the loss of something so intrinsic to who you are. His mother was not a body part, but she felt like one to him when he was younger. He lost her though, even before she physically died. He’d not been willing to believe. Stiles’ young mind could not make sense of her not being there anymore, even with her hurting him. Stiles’ young mind and body lost so much when she was sick and just kept getting worse.

Even though he didn’t ever tell anyone that she was hurting him, the wounds were clear to those that cared to look, but not many ever did. He brushed it off always as being an accident. Older now, his shielding the abuser behavior was not lost on him. Part of him would love and miss her to the very end of existence itself; however, in a deep, dark secret place there would always be a fear of what if she came back but not as the mother, he still loved but as the husk wearing her skin while hurting him.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Stiles began burning the Wolf’s Bane off Deuc’s stump.

Noticing, Melissa made a shocked gasp. “What are you doing? We’re trying to help him!”

Stiles sighed. “Don’t worry, I am. He has Wolf’s Bane poisoning too. I’m burning it off so that he can heal. He’ll heal from the burns, but not the poisoning if I don’t burn it off. I swear Melissa, once he’s fixed up, I am going to explain all of this to you.”

Melissa nodded jerkily though she did look skeptical. It seemed she was willing to give Stiles some room with his claim that he would explain afterwards.

Stiles forced a smile that likely everyone knew he did not feel.

While he was burning off the Wolf’s Bane, Stiles saw Erica move to Boyd in the kitchen to help her pack mate. At the same time, Lydia moved to stand beside Cora and help Mel.

Erica spared a sympathetic look for Deuc.

Notes:

Thank you for all your patience with my erratic posting <3

Chapter 19: Unity

Summary:

False strength. Hale Spark. Submission

Notes:

***NEW/COMPLETE version of this chapter***

No betas. All errors are my own.

Please let me know if you like the longer chapter set up or if you prefer the shorter chapter.

Derek was exhausted. He’d dug into house his own wounds to get all the bullets out on the way to the Stilinski’s house. He had to prove he could still do this, could still be the same man he was before losing his arm.

At the very least, he was coming around to having lost the arm when in front of other people. He could play the game of him being okay. It was very much pushed down deep inside him like all the other traumas in his life. Like always, he wore his strength on the outside with a kind or viscous face—whichever was needed. And when it wasn’t needed? He fell back on the stoicism that had carried him through since his “relationship” with Kate, since his whole family had been burned alive because of his weaknesses.

However, like with his other traumas, everything came to the surface when he shifted to his more primal self with his more wolf features. Derek seemed to always come out of that more openly raw than he went in. The worst of his emotions rose to the surface, and he had to work extra hard to keep it all to himself. He refused to EVER flash his soft belly to anyone ever again.

Derek refused to share any of it. He focused on what he could to help shove everything down. As a result, this time, he had dug out most of the Wolf’s Bane bullets that had hit him in the fight to rescue Duke on the way to the Stilinski house. He had to prove to himself he could still do this, but Derek also used the pain to ground himself and shove the feelings inside as deep as he possibly could. He refused to think too hard on anything except keeping things inside himself.

Even with the Stilinski home being in many ways a safer place than many, Derek was still hyperaware. He noted Ethan and Aiden slipping out to go grab their stuff as Stiles had asked them to after they’d been treated. The human Alpha seemed to be consolidating resources. Derek did not like that. It could mean Stiles was going to attack the other wolves in the area and or start a war with the hunters. Neither seemed good to Derek apart from killing Gerard once and for all.

Now, Derek had moved from near the stairs to sitting in a dining room chair. He had dealt with the things he’d been expected to and was just taking a moment if only brief to breathe and really FEEL the Wolf’s Bane still burning him, poisoning him. Derek knew he needed to do something about it, but before that, he just needed a moment to ground himself in the pain. It would fuel his anchor of anger.

While Derek had been taking a moment, Chris had arrived it seemed since now the Argent was standing right in front of Derek with his own stoic frown filled with suspicion. “Where were you all poisoned?”

Stiles scoffed. “Dude, we’re kind of in the middle of patching everyone up. Can’t this wait?!”

It took a surprising amount of energy for Derek to not say in response ‘everywhere.’ Even exhausted, Derek did know that would be stupid, especially to say it to an Argent. Derek knew his pack was small and not ready for a war that such open weakness could set them up for. He had intended to save Adrian from Scott, not leave him open to constant attack.

Derek straightened himself up on the chair, keeping the pained groans he wanted to release to himself— he was better than showing that weakness! Instead, Derek pulled off his shirt to gasps of Stiles, Cora, and Argent: he was covered in black veins. He’s been shot many times, but it seemed he had miscounted during removal. He had six bullet wounds to his chest. None of the Wolf’s Bane had gotten to his heart—yet, but he was running rapidly out of time.

Stiles sent Melissa over with a bowl of powder and a lighter to offer to Derek.

Notably, no one was answering Argent’s question. The man was blocked out while right there with them.

At the same time, Derek took off his pants, revealing that he had two more bullet holes there. His whole body had several knife stabs and cuts from knives dipped in Wolf’s Bane. Derek didn’t even really realize how much damage he had taken until just then. He perked a brow, unwilling to show more.

It seemed Melissa had passed the bowl she had been carrying to Argent instead of Derek and then returned to what she had been doing working on Deuc. Startled from an aspect of his anger and moving onto the practical issue at hand, Argent looked concerned as he looked to Derek. “This is going to hurt. Do you need to be tied down or need something to bite down on?”

Derek did not roll his eyes though he knew Peter would as well as that Peter already had the same opinion: each of them would prefer the pain of enforcing themselves into stillness to being tied up, let alone tied up with an Argent present.

Forcing himself to be civil for the other wounded’s sake, Derek merely straightened up further. “I’m fine.”

Inside, Derek knew that was an insane lie, but he preferred it to the truth. He’d phrase it like he had for now, but he knew the truth— he meant for forever. That was one of the things he couldn’t lie to himself about.

Argent sighed, barely keeping his slanted anger to himself to deal with the emergency in front of him. “This’ll hurt.”

Derek just sighed in response instead of rolling his eyes or saying anything. Then, Derek fully understood why. Argent sprinkled the powder he’s been given on Derek, which turned out to be a Wolf’s Bane blend. It burned like crazy! But then there was the welding torch Argent lit up to burn off the Wolf’s Bane on and inside Derek’s wounds, starting with the chest.

Breathing heavy, Derek got a brief break when Argent set the torch aside to sprinkle the Wolf’s Bane blend on the legs. Next? The torch, of course. Derek bit down on his bottom lip for the burning of his legs. He didn’t bite down on his own lip just over the pain though. Some part of him, the part that refused to trust Chris— hell, even Stiles didn’t seem to trust the man— but his concern that the distrusted Argent would take a leg and Derek knew he could not bear that. Losing the arm was way too much as it was.

Derek knew he couldn’t survive what all happened to Deuc on top of all the trauma Derek had already been through due to the Argents. One day he’d have Gerard’s head for the Argent’s crimes. It could be his redemption as killing Kate appeared to have redeemed Peter in some way. Derek was grasping for straws on the idea of redemption. Redemption for his having fallen for Kate’s sick manipulations, for biting Gerard.

When the Argent was finished burning the outside and inside of Wolf’s Bane in him, Derek released his lip from his still- human teeth. He let his lip heal as he wiped the blood off himself with a swipe of his arm over the already healed punctures. Derek had a deadpan expression on his face.

Next, Derek forced himself to stand even with him still healing the burns and the now poison free wounds. He pulled his clothing back on and then moved around to check on the status of everyone present. He trusted that Stiles was okay—Peter had been right at the human’s side the whole time to protect his weak limbs, etc. Peter looked a bit rough, but it seemed someone had dug out the bullets in him, and the Wolf’s Bane had been burned off at least partially. Cora looked okay—light Wolf’s Bane damage that had not been burned off yet.

Before checking in on the others, Derek grabbed a light from the bowl of lighters that someone had already gotten for people to grab form. Even though he spared a thought of gratitude to whoever had thought to prepare like that, he did not verbalize, choosing to focus on burning off the Wolf’s Bane on Cora. However, upon closer inspection both her and Peter’s Wolf’s Bane damage had already been burned off. It was just taking them longer to heal as they were providing pain relief for the heavily damaged Deucalion.

Derek also noticed that someone had hooked Deuc up to an IV drip. Derek assumed that had to have been Melissa’s doing. No one else here had that kind of skill— maybe Argent, but he did not want to think about that. As a result, the credit went to Melissa.

With a sigh, Derek moved to look at what was happening with Boyd in the Stilinski kitchen.

What he saw was Erica going through and burning Wolf’s Bane out of the scratches and other wounds from knives on Boyd. Argent moved to help, but he was not doing anything yet. Melissa was there already in fresh gloves using medical tools to fish bullets out of his beta’s wounds while Erica clearly had been doing the same to a couple but with her claws: one time successful and one time very clearly not.

Derek took a breath and backed off. He looked around the whole bottom floor of the house to find there was nothing for him to do, no need of him. He rolled his shoulder, absently missing being able to roll two shoulders attached to arms. He wondered briefly how the fuck did everything come to this. His whole pack was safe here, but it was not his here. This place belonged to another pack.

The more Derek thought about it, the more he pieced together that even with getting the loft apartment, most of his pack had been here already when he arrived to demand Stiles’ help in rescuing Deuc. Why not at his place? He knew the answer to that too. The Stilinski house was a home, right? What was his loft beyond a place where he kept some clothes and furniture? It was a hollow shell—like he told himself he liked. But the truth was that it was what he had become used to, what he felt safe with as it had nothing to lose.

Even when Laura was alive, he had been little more than a ghost. He wasn’t really that different beyond his efforts to start making a pack, but even that he was not great at. At least not so horrible he tried to sacrifice his whole pack like the fool Peter had turned. However, that was a hollow blow too.

As he absently heard the shower upstairs turn on, Derek rolled his shoulder again, trying to work out an over six-year-old knot even as he unintentionally lost track off quite what or where anyone was right that second except Argent who, with his daughter, headed out back.

----------------------------------------------------

About thirty minutes later…

A bit after Argent had left, Ethan and Aiden came into the Stilinski house through the back door, making more noise than normal. Aiden had a noticeable limp on his left side, and Ethan’s right eye was so beaten and swollen that anyone who saw it knew the teen would only be able to see from one eye until it healed. At the same time, both were still blood covered and slowly healing. The burns from getting the Wolf’s Bane off them generally and their wounds specifically were still healing too.

They needed pack time to help their healing.

Both teens looked concerned when they did not see Deucalion on the dining room table still.

Aiden grabbed his brother’s wrist tightly, stopping the forward momentum. “You killed him?! You gave us your word!”

Stiles lifted his head up so that it could be seen over the back of the couch the moment he heard the back door being opened. He knew he looked exhausted, but still flashed his red and purple rimmed eyes. “Do not start that, idiot. We put him to bed over here. He’s resting and waiting for you. We need your help, and permission, so we waited.”

Releasing his brother, Aiden dropped his duffle bag of his few possessions on the ground in the kitchen and headed over to the other side of the couch. He needed to see Deuc.

Ethan followed suit, dropping his duffle bag as well and joining Aiden to check on Deuc.

Stiles watched them come around to see Deuc propped up on the Sheriff’s recliner.

Deucalion was pale, but was hooked to an IV, still. The ugly black sutures on his numerous wounds were covered with gauze and other bandages. The Demon Wolf also had an open button-down blue flannel shirt on that smelled like Stiles as did the baggy sweats the man had on curtesy of Peter’s and Melissa’s nimble but clinical hands managed to get on the man without further harming him. The flannel had also a rolled-up sleeve on his right arm wherein the IV was connected.

Both Ethan and Aiden seemed relieved and sad to see proof of Deuc’s survival. Stiles assumed it had to do with needing the protection versus taking the roughness of being in so small a pack with a damaged Alpha. Then again, Stiles knew he could just as easily be wrong.

However, even with the Ethan and Aiden both able to see Duke’s state, Stiles could not again rest his head on the couch cushions and Peter’s lap. While it felt so soothing to touch Peter as well as safe, Stiles opted to address that further later. Instead, Stiles slid to be sitting on the front edge of the couch. “Deucalion is not in an ideal state. Gerard did a number on him.”

Ethan nodded while his brother was still intensely focused on Deuc.

Stiles nodded. “It has been brought to my attention that wolves—werewolves—are more powerful in a pack than as omegas. Not only that, but the size of the pack increases the strength of the pack. I do not want you to feel forced, but I’m willing to take all three of you into my pack temporarily. I have a decent sized pack and it would afford you all not only strength with larger numbers, but it would throw off hunters looking for a small pack if not just a couple of omegas.’

“I’m not saying—”

Aiden cut him off. “I’m in.”

The sometimes-brutish twin tilted his head, exposing his neck to what was now his new Alpha.

Stiles’ eyes flared red at the sensation of an addition to his pack.

Ethan’s jaw dropped. “Really?! He didn’t even finish.”

With a sigh of exhaustion, Aiden just crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s right. He’s right, and you know it.”

Clearly, Ethan had not expected Aiden to give in so quickly. Ethan then looked pleadingly to Stiles. “I… and you were saying?”

Normally he would be more understanding, but Stiles was worn to the bone. However, he did continue while remaining in the same physical position beyond settling his elbows on his knees and letting his hands dangle. “As I was trying to say, we’re an unusual pack, but we have ways we do things, including cuddles and secrets. Once in, you have essentially willingly sworn to keep secrets. You are not to tell ANY secret that are not yours to tell. Understood?”

Aiden tilted his head faintly, clearly finding the whole thing odd. However, he did not verbally respond or revoke his submission.

Stiles gave pause, but with no one having a word to say it seemed, he continued. “Also, if Duke does not submit, you’re leaving him a possible omega if you both join me. That will possibly mean he either dies or hunts you down for the rest of his life.”

Peter pressed one of his legs into Stiles’ to both support him and get his attention.

Stiles looked to his Right Hand who happened to be sitting to the right of him.

Peter, wearing only baggy sweatpants from Stiles’ closet motioned with his chin toward Deucalion.

The Demon Wolf had his eyes open, looking around himself tensely it seemed.

Seeing the Demon Wolf awake, Stiles stood up and moved into easy sight of the werewolf. “Hi.”

Unable to stop himself it seemed; Peter chuckled at Stiles’ anti- climactic greeting.

For better or worse though, in Stiles’ opinion, it cut at least some of the tension. Although Deuc had not spoken yet, Stiles decided he had to treat the man with some level of respect but refused to ass kiss. He was in his own house with his own pack and politeness be damned— he was not up to taking more shit after everything. and he already suspected Derek and his eyebrows had some judgement and questioning to throw at Stiles already. “To start over— kind of— you all would heal faster if in a larger pack. I am offering to take you in at least short term for all of you to heal up.”

Stiles found himself grateful that most of his pack had stayed downstairs and were in positions to all be able to see him and help physically or otherwise. They all were still healing though, so Stiles was really hoping to deal with this all as peacefully as possible.

Knowing he had back up made him brave as he said, ‘all of you,’ Stiles looked not only to Duke, Ethan, and Aiden, but also to Derek and Adrian.

Realizing what was being offered, Derek growled low.

In but a second or so, Peter was off the couch and over it to face off with Derek should the Alpha decide to start a fight over the offer. Peter did not take lightly ANYONE growling at his Alpha let alone his nephew who abandoned Peter to his coma in a town with all the of hunters and humans that had torched their family.

Stiles’ eyes shot to Derek even as Peter was putting himself into position to address the issue. “Peter, back on the couch, please. If Derek wants to volunteer to take in the Alpha pack as members of his pack for them to heal, he can. Is that what you want?”

Growling again, Derek motioned to the Alpha packs remaining members. “Are you serious? You’re giving them protection as one of your pack? Have you lost your mind? They’ll kill you. You’re just a human.”

Peter looked ready to rip into Derek but did not move a muscle having returned to the couch as Stiles had asked Peter to.

Stiles sighed. “Seriously? After everything it took to get him out, you are going to argue for abandoning them to die via the hunters that killed your family? To welch on the deal we made to get your sister back?”

Derek flinched back. “It wouldn’t be the same… same thing, and that isn’t what I meant. I just— let them heal themselves. Your deal with them was protection not taking care of them. They’re not your problem, and they will destroy you!”

After refraining from rolling his shoulders or even popping his fingers, Stiles very calmly kept his eyes from flashing as he continued eye contact with Derek. “That is my choice, not yours.”

Clearly not getting things the way he wanted them and fraying the edges in a concerning way, Derek growled and spoke at once. “Your choices?! You are in charge of taking care of your pack! It’s about more than you!”

Stiles stood and leaned a bit toward Peter, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder and closing his eyes for a moment as Peter did the same.

Unseen, the Nogitsune was flowing between the two of them. While the kitsune was feeding off all the chaos and pain quite happily, it was still willing to also pass messages back and forth between Stiles and Peter.

Stiles, eyes still closed asked if Peter knew why Derek was being so aggressive and bordering on feral in behavior.

Through the kitsune, Peter got the message and sent to Stiles the response in his mind: He doesn’t have enough betas. The Alpha spark is driving him insane as it had me.

Nodding, Stiles let Peter go, breaking his connection to both the dark kitsune and Peter.

Collecting his thoughts as he moved, Stiles walked around the couch and right up to Derek who seemed just short of foaming at the mouth. Without a single moment’s hesitation, Stiles pulled Derek gently into a hug. Stiles softly stroked Derek’s back while whispering to him words meant only for him. “Derek, it’s okay. You’ve made it. You are a good Alpha, but you do not have to be so strong all the time and what happened with your family? We’re not going to let that happen again—I will protect you with my life should that be the—”

To Stiles, it seemed that all of Derek’s bottled-up frustration and feral anger was over being forced to retreat by having both Derek’s kneecaps shot out, and Cora having help him out as well as every single thing else was ready to explode all over everyone.

Collecting his thoughts as he moved, Stiles walked around the couch and right up to Derek who seemed just short of foaming at the mouth. Without a single moment’s hesitation, Stiles pulled Derek gently into a hug. Stiles softly stroked Derek’s back while whispering to him words meant only for him:

“Derek, it’s okay. You’ve made it. You are a good Alpha, but you do not have to be so strong all the time, and what happened with your family? We’re not going to let that happen again—I will protect you with my life should that be—”

Derek growled loudly, interrupting

After a sigh of his own and a quick glance to Peter to check that things were okay, Stiles continued to hold onto Derek, rubbing his back softly. “Derek, if I had access or known, I’d have saved the Hale Alpha spark too. I am not your enemy.”

Peter’s left hand raised as his left eye went black while Stiles let go of Derek. The kitsune’s smoker’s cough of a voice escaping Peter’s mouth. “Oh, but you could. What quacks like a duck, screams like virgin snow, and calls itself power?”

Stiles rolled his eyes before slowly releasing Derek’s body after giving him a supportive squeeze to the back of his neck. Stiles was once again using Alpha to beta behaviors with Derek. It wasn’t meant to be demeaning but more a comfort to ease some of the tension. “One thing at a time.”

Peter’s face looked pissed while it also chuckled almost merrily. The visual was disturbing to say the least, but it was broken up a bit as the washer went off with a blaring beep. Peter then growled and groaned all at once at the sharp and sudden sound.

Lydia moved in Stiles’ periphery to go switch Melissa’s clothes into the dryer.

Duke slowly pulled off the recliner some to straighten himself up with an openly pained groan.

Stiles looked to Deucalion. “It’s an offer for you to join us for you to heal. It can be as permanent as you please, but it could help you heal faster. It sucks to be limping with a broken stick into a nuclear-level war. Trust me, Gerard’s seen us. He won’t call it quits so easily. I don’t know his next move, but we are all stronger together if for nothing else beyond healing up faster.”

While Deucalion seemed to be mulling it over, Ethan looked to Stiles and tilted his head in submission. “I submit, but don’t think I’m surrendering my Alpha spark to you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes before looking back to Peter. “Wasn’t asking you to. Okay, while Deuc thinks, what do you mean?”

The smoker’s cough voice tsk tsk’d them all, but Peter shook his head and even hit it against the wall, but not so hard as to damage the wall, thankfully. “He means—”

Then the fox’s voice was back, “Tsk, tsk, Peter. You’re not playing fair. Just because you have front row seats doesn’t mean that there isn’t still fun to be had.”

Stiles ran a hand through his hair, glad Melissa was still in the shower and not having this confusing conversation. “Okay, sounds like a duck, but then clearly is not one for this to work.”

Lydia added on—“And believes their pure but it’s only a sound…”

Then, all at once, Lydia and Stiles both announced: “Scott!”

“Ding, ding, ding,” said the fox. “Odd how everyone assumed that Derek lost his alpha spark because Peter was reborn. Funny story—that’s not how sparks work, especially ones as old as the Hale Alpha Spark. It’s not gone. The witches transported it. Scott was the perfect tool to put it in, clearly.”

Stiles nodded sourly. “Always the perfect pig- headed, self- righteous fool. Damn it, Scott, did you not even question it after that Deaton turned out to be a fake?!”

Shaking his head, Stiles got himself back on task. “So, the spark was stollen. You wouldn’t bring it up if you didn’t want something. What is it?”

Peter’s face wore a Cheshire grin as both his eyes were the empty black of the fox. “Chaos. The magic to fix it will cause chaos of unknown proportions as the ritual affects ALL Alpha sparks within the magics’ range…”

Stiles finished the thought aloud. “So, every Alpha here risks losing their Alpha Spark by my doing this.”

Derek took that moment to interrupt. “You’re just going to do something crazy like this?! It could weaken us all just after kicking a hornet’s nest of hunters?!”

Stiles barely refrained from growling at the borderline hysteria of Derek’s words likely born of trauma and not having enough betas. “Like I said, I would get that back if I could. Turns out I can.”

Peter’s eyes returned to their natural beautiful blue.

Stiles groaned—of course the kitsune would bale with them having more questions than answers to deal with.

Shaking out his arms some, Stiles made the executive decision to run with this. “Nogi? Is the magic needed something that we have to do tonight?”

Peter took a quick pause before relaying the answer. “He said yes, but he’s also laughing like crazy in anticipation of all the likely chaos. Admittedly, we have a limited window but likely still have time tomorrow night for it. Personally, I hope to see the look on Scott’s face when he’s no longer an alpha. Maybe his madness and delusions will stop. Regardless, it would be a great view.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Okay, so we all need some rest to heal up. Normally we all sleep in my bed, but there is no reality in which we’re all going to fit, so Lydia, Allison, Boyd, would you help me pull out what bedding we can to turn the living room into some thing or other that just might be comfortable for a whole bunch of wolves?”

Ally got up promptly to help as did Lydia while saying, “Don’t worry about it, us two can get it all. No one else needs to get up.”

Stiles perked a brow but motioned for them to go ahead no less. He wouldn’t be shocked if all the wolves heard the two making out on their way to and from bringing out bedding.

Peter moved to sit on the couch like he had been when Derek had burst a bit at least, blustering about.

Stiles began to, with Aiden and Boyd’s help, move the coffee table out of the living room and lifting it to sit on the dining room table.

Next, Stiles shoo’d Peter off the couch for them all to move it to be pressed against the livingroom wall instead of acting as a break between the living room and dining room. It did not provide amazing amounts of room comparatively, but the bit of added space was better than nothing.

With the couch moved, Stiles took the blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch and laid it out for use in front of the couch. Stiles paced around a bit as Lydia and Ally slowly brought out blankets, pillows, and even sheets. They also clearly raided his bed for more pillows and blankets.

Peter got a look on his face of genuine pissed-the-fuck-off. He pulled out his phone and checked something and then took a deep breathe in and let a frustrated one out. “There should be an army of pizzas here in about fifteen to twenty minutes. I wasn’t sure what anyone would want, so I just ordered a ton of everything. Apparently, our order was too big for them to be speedy.”

Stiles chuckled a hint under his breath, but regardless, he began assigning ‘beds’ as they were. Lydia and Ally got the couch. It came with being a couple in a sense, but it also prevented sex as the couch would make that activity WAY too loud and obvious in a room of wolves.

Beside the couch, Stiles had intended to put himself but then Derek spoke up.

Derek’s brows were low but not furrowed as he spoke real words: “For wolves, sleeping together with their pack helps them heal faster… or so I remember. Right, Peter?”

To anyone paying attention, which meant almost everyone in the room, it was clear that Derek was just emotionally and physically worn out.

Peter nodded. “Yes, nephew. It’s true.”

Stiles looked to Aiden and Ethan, “Would you both like to be cuddled closest to Duke? Or… I’m not sure how comfortable anyone is with most others to be honest. Thoughts?”

Peter stretched himself out before dropping to the ground with purpose to claim a space by the couch.

It seemed Peter was too mischievous to not position himself to prevent too much fun between the blossoming couple. Still in nothing but baggy sweats rather than his clean lines and designer clothes, somehow Peter still looked like a living and walking sin as well as still being clean lines and seemingly perfectly designed by whatever higher-being that may exist to be just right.

Stiles ran a hand through his hair. Rather than attempting to further sort anyone, he just sighed. “Okay, Allison and Lydia get the couch. Everyone else? Find a spot and claim blankets and more as you want ‘er whatever.”

Not even faking to lay down and relax, Stiles instead left the wolves in the living room to go up to his bedroom, but when he saw the door closed, he moved and sat on the edge of his father’s bed. Before he could think too much, he could hear the water in the shower being turned off and wanted to talk to Melissa separate from everyone else. He felt it would be less overwhelming to having a fellow human kind of break things down for her. He at least didn’t have to break it all down in the same way he was slowly trying to bring his father into things.

While he was thinking, Stiles heard what he thought was Lydia grabbing clothes from the dryer and bringing them upstairs to Melissa.

While his father was fighting the reality of the supernatural world on some level because of how he came into it (thanks Peter!), Stiles hoped to leave out the long explanations here to keep things easy for Melissa. He saw no reason to drown her in all of this if she did not want to be that deep.

Just as he was reasoning mentally with himself how much would be necessary; Stiles saw that Melissa had emerged from the shower as she walked past his father’s bedroom door. Stiles rushed to interrupt the direction Melissa was taking. “Melissa?”

She came around back to his father’s room to face him.

Even though Melissa had a stern but questioning expression on her face, Stiles did not give her any chance to ask him anything. Instead, he motioned to his father’s bed. “Please? Have a seat and I will explain everything I can to you.”

Melissa came and sat on Noah’s bed as Stiles sat with her.

Stiles swallowed hard before starting. He ran his hands down his face.

With an understanding smile, Melissa put her hand over Stiles’ bring the teen’s hands down to rest on his lap. “Take your time, Stiles. I’m listening.”

Her kind sweetness drew a smile out of Stiles. “I know. You always have. Uh, so the big news: werewolves and some other supernatural things, creatures are real.”

Melissa nodded slowly but did not interrupt.

Keeping his hands in his lap where Melissa had guided them into being, Stiles rubbed his hands over his sweats- covered upper lap. “Uh, they’re not evil monsters. Um, they can be, don’t get me wrong, but they can also all be a bunch of cuddly puppies.”

From downstairs, Peter hollered up to them with Derek: “We’re not puppies!”

Melissa grinned while Stiles stifled a laugh.

Still smiling softly, Stiles stopped rubbing his pants with his hands. “Anyways, tonight, well tonight was a fight to rescue Deucalion, the man, the werewolf whose wounds you treated first. There are people out there who—”

Melissa interjected, “—who hate everyone not like them?”

Stiles nodded sadly. “This particular one is a sadist who loves to torture people who he deems unfit due to not being what he sees as human.”

She nodded. “Sadly, that’s nothing new, sweetie. There have always been men like that. I guess that kind of person now has another group to victimize?”

Stiles nodded. “Pretty much, but their justification is that not being human is being dangerous and that somehow murdering them all and more is justified.”

Melissa nodded. “Not to shatter this touching revelation that there always has been and will be monstrous people out the, are you a werewolf? And where’s Scott? I assume he went with you all to take care of this.”

There were literal laughs from downstairs as Stiles said curtly, “I’m still human, and no. He was not with us. I’ve hardly seen him in months.”

Melissa frowned hard. “Is it because of that kid, Theo?”

Stiles chuckled at that. “No, but it doesn’t hurt that I can’t stand Theo.”

Raising her eyebrows, Melissa noted, “Sounds like you two have history.”

Stiles nodded. “More than I’ve ever wanted. But no, Scott is his own problem now. I’m not really hanging out with him, even if he may not have noticed yet.”

Melissa nodded and pulled Stiles into a hug. “Well, he’s missing out.”

As they separated from the hug, she also commented. “Thanks, by the way, for the freshly cleaned clothes. I feel like my day will go much better not walking around with blood stains on me though it would’ve been nice if Peter wasn’t who brought them to me.”

Stiles smiled and nodded before sighing at Peter having been who brought her clothes.

Melissa stood up then, saying, “Okay, well I’d better get going. Take good care of yourself. I’ve got a son to confront for not telling me what is going on.”

Stiles perked a brow. “For not telling you that werewolves are real?”

With an understanding smile, Melissa corrected him. “No, for becoming a werewolf and not warning me.”

Stiles mentally froze but kept that inside. “What? He’s a werewolf? How did you come to that?”

His innocence was not sold to Melissa it seemed.

Melissa shook her head slightly with a kindly smile. “You didn’t say it, but if all the crazy stuff I’ve been seeing in my son of late is any clue—which it is to a mother— my son’s definitely a werewolf. One that is about to be grounded, possibly forever.”

Stiles hesitated for the briefest second before gently touching Melissa’s wrist to signal he had to tell her something without freaking her out. He then stilled himself to a quite serious state. “Be careful, Melissa.”

Melissa looked critically to Stiles. “I know you are not threatening me, but what are you trying to say?”

Stiles ran both his hands through his hair. “Look, Scott isn’t just a werewolf, he’s an Alpha werewolf. But as with all alphas he needs a pack to keep himself and his literal mind stable. Scott’s pack of wolves is too small. He may be becoming dangerous, so if anything— and I do mean ANYTHING starts to look like it's becoming unstable or you feel even the slightest hint that you are in danger from Scott OR Theo, come here, okay? We will all help you to the best of our abilities and protect you from Scott and Theo— together or apart.”

Serious too, Melissa responded, “Okay, Stiles. I will. I can take care of myself, but I still understand that sometimes we all need help whether we want it or not. I get it.”

She then paused a moment. “Does your Dad know?”

Stiles nodded both in understanding and confirming his Dad did know, very much relieved by her overall response. It probably didn’t hurt that she learned the truth and met them all when they were all wounded to one degree or another. Seeing even a powerful creature damaged and needing your help could be a powerful way to introduce one to the supernatural. Plus, Melissa’ maternal and nurse instincts could overcome just about anything, at least as far as Stiles had seen.

They hugged one last time before Melissa went downstairs to grab up the last of her things and go.

Stiles took the moment alone to sit back down on his Dad’s bed, putting his head in his hands. The rescue had been intense, he’d shot Derek who had been victim enough in his life to cover more than a dozen possible lives. It was hard to deal with alone, let alone Peter taking his first kiss without advanced warning or even asking permission.

Plus, with all his magic use, Stiles felt like he had been stripped down to nothing. His feeling stripped down was from magic yes but also even more than just his energy being stripped but of something he couldn’t quite put to words to that he had come to consider full up like an overflowing gas can. But right now? He was beyond empty, the can itself having been stripped away too.

The emotional tole, not counting the magical energies was heavy. That first real look at Duke strung up like a plaything for the monster was an image that Stiles knew may well haunt him for the rest of his life

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Lydia was so happy Ally was okay. While Ally had volunteered them to grab the pillows and blankets, Lydia took every chance she could to pepper her girlfriend’s skin with soft kisses. It did not matter that all the wolves and possibly everyone else knew what was happening. All that existed in Lydia’s mind was Allison.

The second trip back upstairs for blankets landed them in Stiles’ bedroom. Lydia laid Allison down on the bed before kissing and crawling her way up Allison’s body to end at kissing her lips while pinning her girlfriend’s wrists down. It was a previously agreed upon scenario in which Lydia had the false but heady sense of control while at the same time Ally got a sense of relief at not having control. Both girls ground against one another and kissed before having to hurry up and grab more bedding.

Next trip, Lydia pinned Ally to the door of the linen closet, kissing her so sweetly it was also like a toothache of tenderness. Lydia could never get enough even when both their lips were kiss-bruised and tender, even times like now when there was a bit of a taste of blood in Ally’s mouth.

While she had understood, Lydia did not like having been left behind from the rescue efforts. Regardless, it made sense for someone to stay back who knew what was going on and had the opportunity if needed to get help to go save the pack if things went too far sideways.

Thankfully, Lydia had not had to call in the metaphoric troupes to rescue the pack and no one had died. She called it a win. It’s not like they had gone there just to fight Gerard. That was in no way the plan, and she knew it. The goal was to rescue Deuc without getting themselves killed.

By the time they were done fetching all the available bedding that was not on the Sheriff’s bed, Lydia and Allison came downstairs to there being several stacks of pizza boxes. Some were stacked near the back door, presumably empty already.

The other stacks were on the table and the coffee table on top of the table. There were plate and silverware out to in addition to cups and a few two liters of sodas of varying types.

Likely shocking absolutely no one, Lydia turned her nose up at the soda—she did not at all want to risk her skin or teeth with it. However, as clearly whoever had ordered food had not done her the curtesy of getting her a salad instead of pizza, Lydia grabbed a plate and two slices of the hardly touched vegetarian pizza option. While not a huge fan of olives, Lydia took a slice anyways as at least there wasn’t any pineapple on the pizza.

Heading into the opened-up living room, Lydia took a seat knowing Allison wasn’t far behind her. Sitting on the couch with her bent knees that caused her legs to fold up at her side. Lydia had her plate resting on her lap as Allison came to sit beside her with each of their sets of legs draped to opposing sides so that their knees touched.

Lydia leaned her head over to rest on Allison’s shoulder. She enjoyed how open they could be here with their pack. There was no judgement or cruelty. There was none of her mother saying it was a phase or working for Ally’s father not to find out.

Here, they were able to just be in love with one another and show as much or as little of it in whatever and whichever ways they sought to. Lydia loved these moments of quietness between her and Ally. It was a break from the chaos of their lives in the supernatural and school. They could just be touching and be here together.

She loved Ally so much she even refrained from commenting on Ally eating like a trucker. It was in its own way incredibly endearing to Lydia. All those little things just made her love Allison all the more. It was so hard to describe what they had together as anything less even with the word love seeming far too small for the throbbing, all-encompassing experience of them together.

With her head still leaned on her love’s shoulder, Lydia laid the hand not keeping her plate steady on Ally’s upper thigh. It wasn’t sexual, but rather intimate. It was a moment in which they could touch and be. They could just connect in whatever ways worked best for them.

Maybe that was the secret for them: understanding. Both came from homes of trauma. Not the same kinds of trauma, but they both knew what it was like to be in a broken home of one kind or another. Thankfully, in their being thrust into the world of the supernatural, they found deeper and deeper comfort in each other.

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Stiles fought to keep his eyes open even after Ethan too had submitted to Stiles. While his strength was increased with each additional member of his pack, Stiles could not help but suffer the consequences of using so much magic in a short amount time. As a result, he was sat on the ground in the living room and leaning back on the couch when his father arrived home.

Even though he had no idea what his father had been expecting to come home to, Stiles was certain by the look on his father’s face upon entry that the Sheriff was not expecting a bunch of people— several he had never even meant— to be laid out and or sitting across his living room floor.

Then again, his Dad looked damn tired as it was, so the level of shits given could be deceiving. His father looked like he had been through the ringer. To be fair, his father had worked a double and a half. Even at their normal capacity, the new murders were not helping things. Not that they were meant to, in all reality, but it was a lot to deal with for the police in a small town, he was sure.

However, Stiles watched as his Dad simply walked in, froze at the sight of everyone there, then shook his head and moved toward the plates and pizza. “Explain tomorrow. Grabbing a bite and going to sleep—and for whatever this is, I am having meat pizza.”

Stiles groaned but considering he was not in trouble—at least not yet—as well as how exhausted he felt he didn’t hop right up to prevent and argue his Dad into doing the healthy thing, especially as they didn’t even order anyone much of any healthy thing. “Please just also have some of the vegetarian to help reduce the damage to your heart.”

Noah frowned, but he did as asked: he got himself two pieces of pepperoni pizza and two vegetarian slices too. Although he did what he was asked to, it didn’t change the quiet grumbling to himself about it. However, once there was pizza on his plate, Noah went straight upstairs with the clear intent to eat and pass out.

Stiles, if he had more energy, would help make sure his Dad didn’t fall asleep in his current clothes and go to work in them again tomorrow, but even the will to get up was lacking in Stiles. He was just so tired and felt like he had gained thousands of pounds due to how heavy his limbs, even his head felt.

Unable to help himself, Stiles groaned a little as he shifted his weight to lay down while turning himself toward Deucalion who was also on the ground now though Stiles didn’t notice him having been moved. Normally, Stiles would be better. He felt himself losing consciousness even as someone seemed to be adjusting his body. He would panic, but he knew it was Peter by how he felt through the pack bonds that Stiles had learned to feel and understand over the months.

Normally, Stiles might offer more or other options, but the will to even stand was low right now. More than anything, Stiles was collapsing into sleeping; however, he had a pack to worry about. As such, no amount of exhaustion was allowed, in Stiles’ mind, to prevent him from taking care of them. He had to protect them, his pack. He couldn’t let any of them be hurt ever again.

Deucalion then spoke, communicated for the first time in more than a growl since he had been rescued, revealing an upper-class British accent of a voice to their ears. “Curling up together doesn’t work if not all in the same pack, but would you truly want someone who has murdered their own pack in yours, little human?”

Stiles could not help but roll his eyes. With too sluggish for his liking movements, Stiles pushed himself up right with a groan. He then looked into Deuc’s unseeing eyes. “I am the human who runs with wolves, and as Gerard didn’t kill me when he was torturing me in the past and that didn’t make me run screaming for the hills to hide away, I think I’ll be just fine. We all have our trauma and awful decisions and pasts. However, with that said, I do intend to enter a magically binding deal with you to make sure you do not hurt those I am bound to by my love and protection of them.”

Deuc perked what somehow seemed to be an exhausted brow. “Fair, little one. Does it not bother you to be called little one?”

Stiles shrugged even as he immediately regretted the choice. Even without taking nearly as many wounds as the others, Stiles was bruised up to high hell from the rescue mission, day-to-day bullshit, Theo, and the price of magic. It didn’t even all come from that night, so he disliked showing it. “Honestly? After months of being called a kit, I think it just shows how unprepared people will be for if I have to ensure vengeance or other action against them.”

With a crooked smile, Deucalion gave a slight nod.

Stiles didn’t bother with any facial expression, finding even picking one to be too taxing on his limited energy reservoirs after having sat up. “Then let us make our deal. In exchange for our protection while you heal up and essentially giving you short term asylum, you will be bound to not harm myself, any member of my pack, or those we consider pack adjacent. That work for you?”

Deucalion, still wearing a crooked grin, nodded.

Stiles offered the man his hand for a handshake.

Once Duke took Stiles’ hand, both men could felt something akin to a snake forming out of their connected hands and slither up both of their wrists and solidifying like a handcuff bracelet unseen on both wrists though physically felt nonetheless.

Once the bound agreement was secure, Stiles let go of Deucalion’s hand. The human wavered a bit for a moment then straightened upright to pretend to keep most of his weakness at least a little to himself.

Deucalion did not seem to be paying attention as he was looking at and turning his wrist this way and that like he was trying to see the unseen binding. “Fascinating. I’m not familiar with this form, but it is a bound deal no less… you are full of surprises, aren’t you, little human?”

Stiles didn’t bother with a shrug, finally remembering that Deuc couldn’t see it anyways. “I’ve heard.”

Deucalion then bared his neck in submission. “I submit to you, and only you.”

Not letting on that he’d only ever heard that in darker moments for the most part, Stiles moved to settle more, noticing along the way that Erica and Boyd were curled up together already asleep, which caused a bit of a smile for Stiles, especially with Adrian curled up over their feet.

Even with Adrian not in his pack, Stiles still felt pleased at the wolf getting some much-needed rest. Stiles also noted that Ethan and Aiden seemed beyond ready to sleep even though they were still eating to recoup the lost energy from the healing still occurring. “So, what ya say Deuc, want to move to join the puppy pile?”
Deucalion groaned. “Do you really have to call it that?”

Derek and Peter in unison responded: “Right?!”

Stiles laughed a bit. “Sorry, but I call it like I see it. It is a huge pile of lovely lovie sleepy wolves. How do you guys not like being thought of as comfortable and comforting presences?”

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Peter rolled his eyes but also was hiding a hint of smile while motioning for Stiles to come scoot closer at the very least. Peter was also getting up to move Deuc as it was implied through the process of submission even if through a deal implied the man wanted the healing of the cuddle pile.

Although he had some memories of Deucalion from before the man was blinded, Peter only saw so much but had heard a huge range of stories and news about the Demon Wolf who murdered his entire pack more than enough to not risk falling into the same trap others clearly had in the past by assuming that the blind man was weak. The older man was anything but.

Upon lifting the wounded Alpha to move him further from Stiles, Peter drained some of the man’s pain while feeding it to the dark kitsune. They could both feel that Deuc being moved was hurting the wolf of a man, but the Demon Wolf made not even the slightest of noises to give it away to anyone else. To reduce the Alpha’s pain, Peter took things slow while trying not to pay too much attention to the kitsune within that groaned in pleasure at all the pain he was receiving on top of all the other pain and chaos of the day.

Once to a secure spot that he did not want to be too trapped in—consideration for what it was like when you were hurt, wounded—but not in a position to harm Stiles: deal or no deal.

With all of that in mind, Peter put Delusion a foot or so away from Stiles who had in mere minutes laid down and star-fished out in unconscious attempts at freedom and comfort. However, his pack knew him well, starting to finish eating and joining Stiles, laying on his limbs.

Boyd and Erica’s heads had migrated in their sleep toward Stiles even while their lower legs and feet had Adrian on them.

Although Peter was not necessarily a fan of Deuc being here or anywhere near his human Alpha, Peter laid between Stiles and Duke. Peter rolled onto his side to face Deuc who he also maneuvered into laying on his side facing away from Peter. With the intent to use the position to maximize his own ability to protect Stiles and the others, Peter outright spooned the Alpha Demon Wolf, both offering a healing connection to the Demon Wolf and protection from him for the pack.

Unexpectedly, Peter noticed Derek not even pretending to try and head out or have Adrian do one thing or the other. Instead, his nephew was picking up some of the plates off the floor to make room for him to lay down. It seemed his nephew was too tired to really give much of a care externally but was likely guilting himself like crazy. Peter rolled his eyes at that thought in part due to the strong strand of truth therein.

Another surprise was that Duke did not argue or demand anything about how to lay, being manhandled into position or even being spooned; instead, the Demon Wolf was quiet and already drifting into a restless sleep. Peter sighed, thinking to the kitsune, ‘I swear, the only person in this house that may get a good night’s sleep is the Sheriff. This really is a large fuck-the-world level of trauma in the pack.’

The kitsune chuckled with his smoker’s cough of a voice saying within Peter’s mind, ‘hmm… and it is oh so very tasty.’

Peter rolled his eyes at the fox. Before he knew it, Peter was asleep only to wake up in the middle of the night. He knew the night part due to it still being dark outside, which was visible through the open blinds in the kitchen window. It really didn’t faze him much as he could see in the dark. However, to be sure he didn’t wake for anything too serious, Peter took stock of his surroundings.

Stiles was no longer star-fished out. Instead, the teen was spooning Peter in a way that was akin to desperately grasping onto something he might believe is safe. Peter wasn’t sure Stiles was conscious of how he could truly be read by Peter. Let alone how well Stiles would read Peter for reasons the older wolf could only theorize about as he just did not know for sure, but Stiles had taken to his presence for the most part.

So far, Stiles had not yet brought up the kiss Peter had stolen. Peter knew it was going to come up and may spell serious consequences, but he could not deny how much he wanted that to be the last kiss he ever had in case he died. Peter doubted Stiles would feel the same, and regardless, with Stiles’ strong feelings on consent and loyalty Peter knew he may come to regret it. He doubted he would, but Stiles was always full of surprises.

Peter softly ran his hand over the arm Stiles’ had looped over him to be able to properly cuddle close. Taking a little pain assuming the teen had to be in at least a little, Peter found the teen to be in a lot of pain. It was immediately a shock and concern. Had Stiles been hit? Had something else happened? Why was his Alpha hurting so much?!
Swallowing his instincts to wake Stiles and demand answers, Peter took a deep breath, reminding himself that while the teen did incredibly stupid things at times, cue going out into the woods to see where a dead body was found, anyone? But Peter doubted Stiles would just let himself be in pain like this if it was from anything life threatening.
Stiles then made of soft whimpering sigh and curled more tightly to Peter. At that moment, Peter knew he was going to make it a point to find out why the teen hurt so much! Maybe it would offer a chance to make up for stealing a kiss?

Peter also figured he could talk to the others to see if they knew what had happened without alerting them to exactly why Peter was asking. He knew they may not know what was going on as they too would’ve been worried and done something about it in one fashion or another. Hell, even Derek, he hoped, would be quite concerned with what was going on with Stiles.

While his nephew could be a total block head with a guilt tripping mind turned on himself nearly constantly, Derek really tended to only hurt himself. Then again, of late he had seemed more on edge. Probably was all about how small his pack was. Whether Derek realized it or not, he only had two pack members: Adrian and Isaac, the latter of which was still in a coma of some kind, unconscious in the hospital.

Just thinking about whatever it was Isaac was experiencing while in his current state always felt like a gut punch to Peter as it took him back to his time in a coma of being aware yet stuck in place, stuck practically a mannequin for nurses and doctors alike to wheel around, abuse, and ignore.
Those memories of planning on destroying every hunter and supernatural entity in town had been little comfort in his coma. Even planning out the revenge of and figuring out what exactly happened to his family had been a frosty cold comfort. He was still primarily stuck in his own insanity. A shiver ran down Peter at those thoughts, memories, nightmares of his past. He wished so hard sometimes that so many things had been different in his life, like not killing his niece, saving his family, and so much more. He could not even fully comprehend all that Isaac may be going through, but he hoped it would open up the opportunity for them to save Isaac and help him escape whatever monsters and experiences may be haunting the teen.

Peter then looked around once more to double check everything and everyone.

Allison lay half off the couch with Lydia laying partially on her, head resting on Allison’s chest. Erica was spread over three people—her head on Boyd’s chest while one of her arms reached over him to be curling in Adrian’s shirt as he had moved around in his sleep so that he was now curled around Boyd’s head. Derek was on Erica’s other side, with both of Erica’s legs over him as he faced Ethan who was laid on his back facing the ceiling with Aiden draped partially over his chest. With her legs over Stiles’ and Peter’s, Cora’s head rested on Derek’s hip with her body angled to be touching Erica, Derek, Peter, and Stiles.

Notes:

Thank you for reading <3

Chapter 20: Pack

Summary:

Rest. Scott. Names. The kiss. Bruises.

Notes:

I'm sorry my posting times just keep being messed up.

This is not beta'd. All errors are my own.

Deuc woke, but didn’t move, working to keep his breathing as shallow as he could. He sought to fake that he was still asleep. He could feel the warmth of arms around him that were attached to the body plastered to his back. It took him a moment or three to put together based on the scents around him and memories from the night before that the person holding him was Peter Hale.

Duke walked his mind through what he had done: he had submitted to another Alpha, a human one at that. He knew it was madness, but wasn’t he often considered mad long before this trip down the sadist Gerard’s vortex of pain that put Alice of Wonderland’s adventures to shame as a true nightmare.

Everyone said that when he lost his sight that he not only lost his vision of peace but also his sanity. Duke knew otherwise. While there was an issue of stability, Deucalion was not insane. He hoped he was still not insane; although, his actions at times could be argued to be the opposite.

He certainly questioned how he could be the demon wolf without feeling false or somehow a cheat?! Demons were not captured by sadists, let alone tortured by them. No. Demons were the sadists. Duke had considered himself a demon, the one in control. He was the Alpha of Alphas, but now? He had to ask himself if it had all be worth it.

He had killed many since he had been blinded. Duke had researched and learned so much in the process, yet here he was: amputated, sodomized, humiliated, and all the pain and killing and learning did not help him a single bit. He just was forced to take it as his dignity, fragments of his sanity, and sense of self were stripped violently from him.

What was he now? What could he even be?! He was the Demon Wolf, Alpha of Alphas and it had not protected him. Nothing did!

He kept running his mind in circles around his frustrating lack of answers beyond that he had failed at the one thing he wanted— no, needed most of all: to not be a victim again.

Apparently, he wasn’t maintaining his fake “sleeping” too well as he felt a teen’s hand reach over and pat his shoulder. Stiles voice then accompanied the hand. “Shhh… your thinking too loud. We’re all ditching school today, so we’re all sleeping in. Take the rest time quietly, please.”

Duke didn’t bother to hide his shocked state. “How?”

Stiles chuckled tiredly against Peter’s back. “Derek speaks with eyebrows and silence. Over time you get a feel for it, plus you are tapping your fingers against Peter’s arm if you hadn’t noticed.”

Cuddling closer to Peter seemingly for warmth, Stiles rubbed Duke’s arm soothingly before taking his hand back. “Now let’s get back to sleep— it’s the scariest time of the day, don’t miss out.”

Within a moment or two, Stiles was back to lightly snoring while Duke was still in his own mind, left to his own questioning. He suspected Stiles had a point about getting the extra rest while he could in a sense.

After a small huff of breath at himself, Duke decided— fuck it— and cuddled closer into Peter’s heat to fall back to sleep.

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Scott’s house before school…

Groaning as he pried himself out of bed, Scott grumbled and weaved his way to his bathroom. After taking a piss, he returned to his bedroom. He was so darn tempted to blow off school today— he was not doing that well in his classes right this minute anyways. Part of it was honestly him being too busy with other things, like making Kira smile as well as working with Theo to pick out who Scott would be turning into a new pack member or ten next.

He felt a growing drive to just try and bite nearly everyone. Scott was a little too far down the road metaphorically to see quite how off track he was.

While he was not as interested in a massive pack as Theo was, Scott still could not deny that having an entirely wolf Lacrosse team or something like that would be awesome and possibly meet his growing drive to turn people. It did not hurt that Scott was really tempted to turn Kira, but that would have to wait for now as he had not yet come out to her with all the supernatural stuff. In time, he told himself on that topic. Maybe Stiles could help?

Scott really did not want it all to go the way Allison finding out had gone. That had been rough on him. He didn’t want a repeat.

Shrugging himself out of thinking about any of that, Scott forced himself not to go back to bed and got dressed instead: blue jeans, a white long sleeve shirt with the sleeves pushed up to around his elbows and a black t-shirt on over it, gray sneakers, and a cheap watch. He used to have a nicer watch, but he kept breaking them when shifting. He really should take it off first, but he never thinks of that in the moment.

He had a passing curiosity about if his Mom was home. She had been working a lot lately, especially nights.

However, only a moment was spent on thinking about his Mom as Scott then grabbed his phone and texted Kira:

Good morning beautiful

He could just imagine her smile at seeing his thoughtful text. With her on the mind, Scott went to brush and floss his teeth. Mouth wash too! He wanted the sweetest, freshest breath for kissing her later. He wondered if Coach would care about them making out in practice. He sighed knowing that Coach would not at all be cool with such an awesome, amazing idea. Oh well. There was always after school. Hmmm… or maybe even before school if he got there early enough.

With a grin, Scott decided then and there to skip breakfast to be able to get to school sooner. He was sure she would love it too for them to be able to kiss and make out before class. Too bad he didn’t have a car or even really one to borrow. He supposed he could ask Stiles, but that jeep was held together with duct tape and only really worked for Stiles. Scott wondered if somehow Stiles won over the vehicle of his through duct tape like the pied piper did with all the rats in that town or something.

Blowing off those thoughts, Scott grabbed a coat for himself and headed downstairs to rush off. However, a step from the door, Scott groaned and raced upstairs to grab his backpack that he had forgotten.

Once he was back downstairs, he saw his Mom standing near the door almost like she was waiting for him, but he doubted that. It wasn’t like either of them had too much interesting to share about though he supposed he could tell her about Kira: how Kira and her hair smell intoxicatingly good or maybe how Kira’s eyes shimmer almost like they are a deep abyss of love and kissing and hopefully soon to be more.

However, upon getting closer, Scott noted his mother crossing her arms over her chest. “In a rush?”

Faltering, Scott took a second to try and construct an answer, finding himself not as quick to a believable story as Stiles could be, but maybe that too was a sign of Scott’s superior moral high ground? It was hard to say. He needed to ask Deaton about that some time. “Uh, ya. Just wanted to talk to one of my teachers about some homework… stuff.”

Melissa nodded. She didn’t look fully sold necessarily, but she didn’t push it, which to Scott seemed to cement that she believed him. She then said, “Okay, I want you back here right after school. I have some stuff I’m going to need your help with.”

Scott just shrugged. “Sure, Mom. Bye.”

With those words out, Scott brushed right by his Mom to grab his bicycle and bust his ass to school. He had some kissing and possibly feeling up to do before classes started.

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Behind the Stilinski home midway through the afternoon…

Minster stood outside the Stilinski home, debating. He was about two feet tall and had slightly pointed ears. With the right hat, he could have been mistaken for a young child if you did not look at his face of a grown adult with a modest beard that was freshly groomed and trimmed. The Leprechaun had standards after all.

He worn plain gray linen breeches and a brown double- breasted duster style thick coat. The creature also wore a wide rimmed gray hat pulled down at an angle to hide much of his facial features.

The Leprechaun took a pause to listen to what was happening within the home. He heard movement therein. Minster considered waiting for a less busy time of day, but he dismissed the thought as soon as he had it. He needed to get home now that he had set things in motion.

Wrapping himself in his own invisibility, Minster stepped through the door as though it were not there. He then dodged a frantic, perhaps manic, teen who skin was the color of milk and had the heart rate of a racing horse in action, so speedy the Leprechaun could hear it louder than most with his greater hearing than mortals. It must be the one who rescued him! No one else he’d ever heard heart’s beat like that.

Dodging a curly haired girl and a midnight skinned boy, Minster gave pause at feeling the kitsune within an older man in the living room. He could tell the kitsune was watching him somehow without alerting its host. In response, Minster put a finger to his lips to signal the kitsune to not tell what it saw and possibly knew right this second to those around them both.

Minster then weaved and dodged people to get upstairs. He was sure the one who helped rescue him lived in this domicile and wasn’t just a visitor. Knowing that, he also knew they’d have a bedroom. He knew the one who lived here and helped was a teen based on voice as well as his glimpse of the boy today. Originally, it had been too dark and such a rush of being released that Minster had not been metaphorically or literally taking notes. He knew only the heartbeat for sure.

As a result, Minster headed up the stairs and looked in the available rooms upstairs. It did not take a genius to find the teenager’s room. He looked around some, snooping— cause why not— but then upon seeing some files, well, really a board of things going on. Minster wondered if it was some kind of crime board or something. Taking a closer look, he recognized the signs and frowned.

The poor child did not know it yet, but Minster suspected this board would blow up in the child’s face. Or more accurately, what it symbolized would. The poor child was at some speed putting himself in the middle of something darker and more unpredictable than he realized. He had focused on the lost not the losing it may have triggered.

With a sad smile, Minster manifested a piece of paper and an enchanted pen. With the pen he wrote one word on the page, and then posted the page in the middle of the board.

Oddly enough, Minster found that the room had an opening unseen through which to cross over the veil. Recognizing what a danger that could be, Minster passed through the opening, but then closed it in the process. He could not with good heart leave the person who saved him a sitting duck for what he doubted the teen understood just yet.

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Stiles was just trying to get everyone fed. He felt manic and out of control in the world, so through cooking he sought to give all that energy a form that he could control: his own actions. He had pancakes, bacon, and more going on the stove.

He had Erica cutting up potatoes into squares after Boyd had mostly peeled them. The later also threw his name into the hat with wanting to peel potatoes before Stiles could give the fellow teen a job of Stiles’ choosing.

Oddly enough, Stiles might have chosen that as the teen was pretty good at the task. Stiles had been so focused on his cooking that when his magic reacted to a large magical ripple, Stiles dropped both the spatula and glass bowl he had been holding.

Without further thought or even noticing walking through glass, Stiles could not help but follow to where his magic had felt the ripple originate. While in his mind everything happened slowly and precisely, what everyone else could likely see was Stiles dropping everything in his hands and then taking off in a run to upstairs.

Once into his room, Stiles nearly immediately saw the piece of paper attached to his crime board on the killings his Dad had asked him to investigate. He was stock still even as Peter slithered around Stiles to face him and check him over some visually.

Peter opened his mouth likely to speak, but first, Stiles said. “That wasn’t there before.”

Tilting his head, Peter brushed a hand along Stiles’ without trying to hold on but perhaps rather to give support through touch as a grounding mechanism. “What?”

Stiles motioned to the crime board just past Peter. “That word. I don’t know it, and I did not put it there.”

It was hard for Stiles to not freak out or feel violated. He did not like having his personal space invaded by only gods knew who. It was a deep sense of violation. Stiles had to remind himself mentally to keep himself loose as there was no indication that the whatever who put that word on his board meant harm or not.

Stiles figured he at least knew that what that word meant was unlikely to be a threat as most threats are done in plainer yet active language, or at least in his past of being bullied that had been the case. Hard to say if that was the same in the supernatural world of things

While he was trying to work out things in thin air about who could get into his room, use magic, and somehow be invisible or have enough magic to come and go from his room he found only one reasonable answer: “It must have been the Leprechaun? Maybe he followed us home?”

Nodding half-heartedly at Stiles’ suspicion of who might have entered his room unseen through magic, Peter turned around to see what Stiles was talking about being on his crime board. He approached the board. “You may not know what that word means, but I do. It’s not good: it’s a dark druid.”

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Peter managed to corral Stiles into sitting on his bed so that Peter could perform the needed first aid to address Stiles having run through glass to his room. Peter left him a sec to grab the first aid kite in the second drawer of Stiles’ nightstand. Quickly returning, Peter opened the box. He placed a hand on the teen’s foot to drain the pain while his other hand, with tweezers, began digging out the shards of glass. Thankfully, Stiles only had a small portion of glass in him somehow. It looked worse though than it was with the blood smearing.

Once all the glass was out, Peter sanitized the bottoms of Stiles’ feet before bandaging his Alpha up nice and neat. After the bandaging was done, Peter helped Stiles to his feet while keeping up skin contact to continue draining pain.

As they walked down the stairs to return to dealing with breakfast before they had a rebellion of hungry werewolves, Stiles continued talking to Peter. “But why would a dark druid, a Darach even be here? We know it’s not Deaton as he lost his magic when he gained the bite. And what use would a Darach have here anyways?”

Deucalion perked up. “So, she is here.”

Everyone but Ethan and Aiden looked to Duke in questioning.

Stiles was the first to put to words to what the general vibe of the room had shifted to. “What do you mean ‘she is here?’”

Sitting himself up a bit straighter despite the pain everyone know that had to cause, Duke settled his hands in his lap before continuing. “She was why we were here, in part. She was hunting us it seemed, so we hunted her.”

Moving all the way downstairs with Peter still touching his skin, Stiles moved back to the kitchen, noticing off- handedly that someone had cleaned up the glass from what he had dropped. Erica and Boyd now had Lydia and Adrian helping with breakfast. Stiles gave them all a nod— “Thank you.”

With the breakfast experience in capable hands, Stiles turned back to Duke and walked into the dining room. “Do you know who it was? ‘er… is?”

Duke shook his head slightly. “I was and still am concerned it is a surviving pack emissary killed by one of my Alpha’s, but it’s hard to say who it would be. Tempted to say Kali, but I really don’t know. It doesn’t hurt that I’ve been ‘out of the field’ as one might say for several months now.”

Stiles nodded as he ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, so have you looked into the names of the pack members of your Alpha pack? Like, did some research?”

Duke sighed. “Got taken too soon. We were trying to grab up the two stray members of Derek’s, the Hale pack, but someone had gotten to them first. Then when we were about to address the situation with the Darach, Gerard struck out of nowhere.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, they had help with that…. Okay, everyone, we’re going to research, look into the Alpha pack’s dead packs after br- lun… no, no. After brunch. From there, we will also lay down how we are going to stay safe and lay low. Plus looking into the ritual needed to address the Alpha sparks situation… fuck today is going to be busy.”

Moving to rejoin those in the kitchen, Stiles popped his fingers. “Also, while lu- br… fuck! While brunch is being made, I want everyone to be calling home and getting cleared to come over to a friend’s house for a spend the night. Say it’s for school, to help, whatever will work it out for you. No exceptions. If you can’t get permission, we will help you sneak out.”

Stiles took over for Erica in stirring the scrambled eggs, making fried potatoes and the pancakes. He left Boyd to start cooking up the bacon on the flat iron and got Erica moved to making and buttering toast. Was it super effective? Maybe, but more importantly it got things done while everyone was calling their families and figuring out how to be here tonight.

Meanwhile, Stiles’ mind was going a thousand miles a second if not faster. He started constructing a list of things and ways to make this all work both the planning itself like threat assessment on the Darach and the literal actions they needed to take to stay safe from Gerard. Stiles did not range by priority, yet, but was working up a list of things to get going.

As it struck, if there was time that he got alone with him, Stiles wanted to talk to Duke about what happened with Derek’s arm. It made no sense that his arm was rejected by his body. Sadly, Stiles knew that in the heat of this mess of threats that Derek’s arm would likely have to wait still.

Stiles kept working up a list of things to get going as he flipped another pancake. “Lydia, would you text my Dad to let him know we’re making a list of people we would like him to look into for us, please?”

Flipping another couple silver dollar sized pancakes, Stiles rolled his shoulders. “Ali, would you please text your Dad. I think he may be able to help us out some.”

Ali appeared to perk up out of the cornner of his eye. “Want me to tell him anything specific?”

Not wanting to roll his shoulders again, Stiles stared down the massive batch of scrambled eyes he was stirring. “No more than you have to. Leave the Alpha pack part out completely, please.”

Starting to nod his head as he went, Stiles continued as he used one hand on scrambled eggs still but his other hand on stirring the frying potatoes. “Deucalion, Aden, and Ethan could you please start listing all your past enemies and the packs you’ve killed, including your own. Peter, please supervise for now, but once breakfast is done, please let me and Nogi have a chance to speak.”

Peter nodded, and Stiles assumed the rest agreed as there were no verbal retorts so far. He then remembered something else important. “Lydia, could you please also let my Dad know we’re having a huge wolf spend the night tonight? I’ll explain it all in much more detail to him when he’s off work tonight.”

Thinking further ahead, Stiles looked to Peter. “Would you also text Melissa to come around later to check on Deucalion? Wolf or not, stuff still needs to be kept an eye on.”

As he spoke, Stiles made a few mental notes to figure out the large meal that would be necessary, ask Deuc, if he got alone time with him, about Derek’s arm and work on the Alpha Spark ritual being his own to further empower it beyond whatever it was Nogi shared with him about the ritual.

Shaking his head some to keep from burning any of the food he was cooking, Stiles decided that once everything he needed was going he had an idea of how he intended to keep them all safe. No doubt they would be grouping up to keep anyone from being caught alone. Having seen Deuc’s shape had been enough to leave Stiles incredibly concerned about what would happen to any one of them for breaking Deuc out, let alone if the monster wanted to send a message with their corpse.

Suppressing a shiver, Stiles noticed Peter starring at him. Stiles faintly shook his head ‘no,’ so that Peter would not alert anyone else if they didn’t already know he was so concerned. Stiles couldn’t deny how much he cared for his nosy wolves. They were the line between Stiles and being alone. He didn’t want to be alone.

He cared for them, helped them all for some times selfish reasons, like not wanting to be alone all the time. But other times Stiles cared for them and helped them because they were all friends now. Sadly, the way they all became friends in terms of his pack all tied to trauma and Gerard, cause of course, but Stiles still wanted to appreciate them, so they could all be together as often as possible. He was the Captain America of the Avengers Civil War.

Stiles doubted he could bear being left alone all the time like before. While yes, Scott used to come over most weekends and after school, but the second Allison existed in Scott’s sphere, it was all just as though their friendship was just dying away at seemingly random speeds. His father still lived here, but even when the county wasn’t a room of bowling pins surrounded by far too many bowling balls— very like the Avengers destroyed over and over or maybe Thanos’ snap? His father was still only so supportive, so present.

Hell, Stiles only even did lacrosse because Scott wanted to fit in and his Dad wanted him to play. Now though? It was not worth it to play lacrosse in Stiles’ mind. He and Scott weren’t friends anymore, and, in the end, he loved spending time with his pack way more than a bunch of sweaty jerks who used to bully him.

Stiles suspected his pack was a good chunk of why he wasn’t still bullied. Well, that and Stiles steered clear now of the danger zones for that kind of lack of fun: the cafeteria and the locker rooms were the big ones. He just made his own lunch as well as lunches for his pack, and they could chat and research during lunch period. Also helped not being in lacrosse anymore since he now had no reason to be in the locker rooms when assholes weren’t shoving him in there and—

Stiles quickly pushed his mind elsewhere as he focused extra hard to work on moving the now done scrambled eggs to serving dish. He did not have time to deal with any of that right now. He had a kiss to address first as well as breakfast and Gerard to deal with.

Stiles shook his head again and saw how far he was. With a smile, Stiles turned off the burners. “Brunch is served! Grab plates.”

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While eating, Stiles mentally broke everyone into ‘teams’ to stay together at all times to help protect each other from anyone—read Gerard—seeking to catch or kill any of them or their loved ones. After food, Peter had let the dark kitsune to slip into Stiles, so they could converse about the ritual. Meanwhile, and the remaining members of the Alpha pack were developing a list of pack members as best they could as no one present knew too much about everyone involved, which made sense as two of the Alpha pack members were dead and unable to contribute to the list or provide any other relevant information.

Soon everyone was sitting in a mix of the dining room table, the couch, the livingroom floor, and leaning against walls even if needed. With everyone situated to one degree or another, Stiles felt much calmer as he was neither alone nor unprotected.

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After everyone was done with breakfast…
Peter wondered what kept coming and going in Stiles’ mind. The teen’s scent didn’t change nor did his connection to the pack. No, but something flitting through that mind was disturbing in some way. Although they did not speak of what their nightmares contained, where their trauma resides, Peter had slowly been picking up little tells that imply more than Peter was sure he could handle knowing. Like how Stiles steeled himself rather than flinched when attacked with words or fists.

Where one might show fear, Stiles managed to show more than that at the same time as less. Yes, he had eventually done as Peter had been demanding of him in finding Scott. But, along the way, the teen did a rather valiant attempt at preventing it considering he was human yet rolled with the supernatural punches well for someone who was new to it.

But there was more. There was the way Stiles looked out for his Dad’s diet, but less so since the pack had taken to being around more often. It wasn’t that Stiles didn’t still care, but the edge of desperation was somewhat lessened allowing a more relaxed approach to the same goal. It was like he hadn’t necessarily come to care less or be concerned for his father less but more like he could care for more than just one— that more than just one person cared to be taken care of or care for him in return.

Thinking about to how thoroughly the Sheriff had not taken to the supernatural situation well— though Peter could concede that his introduction had been crude— Stiles had. Where did he get that from? Was it somehow connected to his ‘side’ project over the last couple months? Peter didn’t know all the information, but he knew it was tied to ghosts if only loosely. It was hard to say though, Peter could only snoop on his Alpha so much before it got caught and distracted away. Stiles was good at that.

To be fair, Stiles was insanely good at that without even trying. The masculine delicacy of how Stiles’ fingers moved could capture Peter randomly at times. It was an odd part of a person to appreciate, but Peter loved Stiles’ fingers no less.

Sometimes Peter would think of other things he could do or have done to him with those fingers. It was so strange to think that thought when Stile’s was a minor! Peter often shook his head faintly to excise the thought from his mind, but it was never gone forever thus far. He just needed to wait it out. Stiles wouldn’t be a minor forever.

Then, there was the light peppering of moles over Stiles, inspiring Peter to seek to lick lines between them to form constellations. He fought off that image from his mind again— Stiles was underage! Then again, Peter had kissed his Alpha. This was a heap of shit he put himself in and had yet to sort out how to dig himself out of.

Then that mind? Peter barely contained his growl burbling up inside of him. He told himself resolutely that Stiles was underage. No matter his interest or lack thereof (as it should be), Peter needed to just back off those thoughts. It was not a wise road to even feel tempted with.

Refocusing himself on the task at hand, Peter was mostly just there to supervise as Ethan, Aiden, and Duke wrote down anyone and everyone they could think of attached to them, their pack, and or with the other Alphas.

While tedious to be a babysitter of such a reward-less task or at least no instant gratification in the task, the wolf still stayed there and mostly on the same task. He was in no rush to miss anything that could help him to address possible threats. Normally this was his bread and butter but underneath every thought he’d had and action he’d taken all day was one, simple question: why was Stiles in so much pain last night? However, growingly follow up questions were gaining steam: who hurt him? Why didn’t Peter protect him? Does he… is he sick? Dying? No, no. Stiles would share that with the group, right? Right?!

The thought circles were doing Peter no good. Finally, he just sighed and stood. “Boyd, are you able to handle this without me?”

Boyd looked to Peter with a slight tilt of his head before nodding. “Yeah, sure. Things good?”

Peter shrugged. “Not sure yet, but you’ll know when I know.”

After leaving Boyd to the babysitting as a solo act, Peter went upstairs. He was still in just sweats, but as he climbed the stairs, he thought about how he had not seen Stiles’ body after they broke Duke out. He never saw Stiles unclothed period. He supposed it was kind of normal for humans, but for someone who runs with wolves? Odd he never picked up the habit of less clothing like some might.

Maybe this was how Stiles could so easily hide that something was wrong, that he was hurting? Peter hated how his stomach did a tortured flop of unease knowing someone in his pack may have gotten seriously hurt and no one noticed something was wrong!

Hell, why did Stiles let all the wolves and everyone else lay all over him most nights if he was hurt, getting hurt? It was a terrible thought and Peter was building himself up and up and was flashing his blue eyes like a mad man of a wolf when he burst into Stiles’ room. Thankfully in a sense, it was just Lydia and Stiles in the room.

When he looked to Peter, Stiles stood up. “Lydia, how about you make a quick coffee run. Want my card?”

Lydia huffed and flipped back her hair. “I got it. You want your normal?”

Stiles nodded, not once looking at her. Instead, the teen’s eyes were pinned on Peter, causing him to feel frozen in place.

Lydia stepped around Peter after grabbing her jacket. “I’ll make sure the others don’t come up for a bit.”

Once she was out of the room, closing the door behind her, Peter looked away from his Alpha, showing his throat in submission.

“Have you texted Melissa yet?”

Shaking his head, Peter did not get a real chance to speak.

Stiles moved to sit on his bed. “Look, I get it if you want to talk about the kiss. I’ll admit, I’m shocked you waited this long since I’m pretty upset you didn’t even ask firs—”

Preventing the Alpha from speaking more, Peter moved closer and took Stiles’ hands to take some of the pain he feared would be there. It was there. It was more pain than Stiles should be in. Every part of Peter demanded Stiles be in no pain at all. “What happened? Who hurt you? Why didn’t you have Melissa take a look?”

Stiles stared at Peter once more, but this time all the color drained out of his face.

Peter didn’t face the Alpha, aware Stiles may be embarrassed or some other thing he didn’t really need to be, but the teenage years were weird like that when in the heat of them.

Finally looking away, Stiles began tapping off beat on his own outer right thigh. “Oh, the stuff I got in the rescue was pretty minor, and I was able to bandage it myself.”

Peter growled lightly, giving Stiles a look.

Chided, Stiles looked down at his hands. “Uh…. Theo cornered me at school the other day. He was none too soft about it.”

Peter growled low in his throat. “How did you not… why didn’t you tell anybody?”

Despite his wording, Peter meant why not tell him specifically.

Stiles shrugged. “Boyd and Adrian got involved before anything too serious could happen. Just got bruised up some. It’ll fade.”

Peter wasn’t sure he trusted that. There was no blimp in the Stiles’ heartbeat, but something was off. “Can I see?”

Stiles squeaked. “See? See what?”

That did it for Peter— there was something more to this. “I thought this pack was about honesty, even when it hurts.”

Stiles sighed, but he then stood up no less. He lifted his black oversized shirt to show Peter the extensive bruising all over his

It was hard to not growl more. Peter wanted to so badly. Without even thinking about it, Peter reacted out a hand to softly touch Stiles’ lower belly abdomen. It looked like he got a power hug from a polar bear and grizzly bear all at once.

He pulled Stiles’ pain through the touch but also felt that while he was young, Stiles had more muscle than Peter expected.

Peter also noticed that the teen was steeling himself again—the truest tell that Stiles had serious trauma in his past and was scared sometimes of physical touch.

Using his fingers and the pain he absorbed, Peter slid his fingers gently to Stiles’ side and up a little. All of his movements gentle, slow, and pulling pain. “I will never hurt you.”

Peter wanted to lean forward and catch Stiles chewed lips with his own, but Peter did not want to risk pushing Stiles away. Instead, Peter moved his fingers more to the middle of Stiles before lifting his fingers off and gently pulling Stiles’ shirt back down. “Who all know?”

Stiles let a shiver run through him as Peter pulled down the shirt. It was odd perhaps, but for Peter quietly gratifying that Stiles seemed to relax some at being able to put his shirt down be in the likely preferred state.

Peter then sat beside Stiles on the bed. “I’m sorry for being so invasive. I don’t have a good reason as I should know more than anyone that unwanted or undiscussed contact, including the kiss is beyond not okay. I am going to try my best to honor your consent and everything else because it should just be the way things are. Are the bruises a secret from those outside the pack?”

Stiles nodded, visibly startled by Peter’s apology, and not being forced to answer who knew about the bruises. “Feels like it should be. I’m not completely sure who to trust outside of the pack right now. And, with that, I'm not sure I can trust pack members who are not currently here. Melissa, we had to, have to. She’s the only one we know with medical training who won’t automatically turn us in. Plus, as it was, we needed her help with Duke. He wouldn’t have survived without her help, I fear.”

Peter nodded. He then glanced to Stiles who was chewing on his bottom lip. “So… about the kiss? Any way I can make up for it?”

Notes:

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 21: Scales Shift

Summary:

Scott. Decision. Magic.

Beacon High lacrosse field after practice…

In his clothes from earlier but with a lacrosse jersey on top, Scott had his hand gently massaging Kira’s upper right thigh with his other hand on her other side and his tongue was in her mouth. He could not deny even slightly how Kira embodied his whole brain.

Kira pulled back— not for the first time— from their kissing. “Scott, if I’m late my parents will be so disappointed in me.”

Scott nodded then coaxed her in for another kiss. Her lips were so addictively soft, and she smelled so amazing. Scott felt almost like he must be some kind of higher being or a druggie of some sort. He knew he would never be sick of her, never get enough of her. It was all so perfect.

Then every lacrosse player’s most hated noise rung out: Coach’s whistle. “McCall, don’t you have a home for this instead my field?”

Scott looked down and away as though he were shy and embarrassed even though in the end what he really was remained hidden metaphorically with his blue balls. Along with Kira, he picked up his book bag and stood to leave.

The coach then stepped forward when Kira moved to leave. “Actually, I need to have a word with you about your being on the team.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Want me to wait for you?”

Kira smiled her perfect smile. “Naw. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

Scott couldn’t deny that she was so perfect it was like he made her in a computer. Except for one thing: he wasn’t getting the blue balls relief he wanted from her, but that would be short lived—he’d make sure of it. Maybe getting her flowers would help?

As he left, Scott hummed tunelessly his whole bike ride home. However, when he made it in the door, he saw a very unpleasant but clearly pissed off Mama.

Once he was inside with the door closed, Scott dropped his bag by the door and held up both his hands in surrender. “I am really sorry for whatever thing it is I did.”

Melissa did not seem to be taking it.

Regardless, Scott asked, “Is Theo here?”

Melissa looked ready to melt everything with her fiery stare. “No, and I do not want to see him here again. End of that right now.”

Scott was about to jump to Theo’s defense, but his Mom wasn’t done yet it seemed.

She continued as she put her hands on her hips. “You have the gall to not only have such a jerk here all the time, but you became a werewolf and didn’t bother to tell me?!”

Scott’s eyes got big, then he attempted to clap back. “Stiles! That liar told you! After he swore he wouldn’t tell ANYONE?! I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him!”

“Nice try,” his Mom said. “He didn’t tell me. I’m just not an idiot even if you clearly think I am. I get it, I work a lot of long hours right now, but that does not give you the right to treat me like an idiot nor anyone else really.”

Not bothering to listen to anything else said, Scott grabbed his backpack and stormed out of the house. He was vaguely aware that his Mom was yelling something, but he actively worked to hear nothing. He didn’t want to be attacked any further by his Mom for being a werewolf! How could Stiles do this to him? Weren’t they best of friends? Brothers?! What kind of monster would do that to him?!

It had to be Peter… Peter and Derek. They were poisoning Stiles against him AGAIN! He had to do something about this. As a result, Scott headed for Theo’s house to grab his friend and head out to turn a couple of the other lacrosse players and attack Derek’s pack again, but this time there would be no more Hale pack survivors if he had any say in it.

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10 minutes later…

Stiles’ phone was ringing like a beast. Scrambling for his phone, Stiles picked it up and answered it. “Hello?”

It was Melissa’s voice. “Scott took off. I confronted him about his being a wolf. He assumed you told me, but I don’t know if that me saying otherwise really got through to him or not, so I wanted to call and warn you that he could be coming your way.”

While one hand held the phone, Stiles’ other hand rubbed the side of his face. “Okay Melissa. Thanks for the warning. Are you concerned at all about your own safety?”

There was a huff on the other side of the line. “Stiles, you know me better than that— I can handle myself. But thanks for the thought.”

Nodding even though she couldn’t see him, Stiles offered anyway. “If at any point that changes or if you need anything feel free to call, come over, whatever it is you need. Okay?”

A smile in her voice, Melissa said, “Thanks, Stiles. I’ve got it, but should that change, I will reach out. Be safe. He seemed pretty upset.”

Peter looked to Stiles the moment the teen got off the phone. “Everything okay?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Aren’t we past pretending you didn’t just hear the whole call— both sides of it?”

Tossing his phone aside on his bed, Stiles plopped over on the bed a hint closer to Peter. “I think Scott may have just forced our hand. He’s too dangerous as he is, and we can’t just leave him to hurt more people. Add on, I need to do this for you and Derek? Well, the time is more crucial than ever.”

Nodding, Peter got up from the Stiles’ bed, and then offered his hand.

It felt a little strange, but Stiles blushed no less as he took the wolf’s hand. “We need to gather everyone in the living room.”

Peter nodded as Stiles got on his feet.

Both knew that all the wolves downstairs had likely heard that, and the humans would be guided as well to move to the living room.

Stiles was sedate as he headed downstairs to convince other Alphas to take the risk.

Peter was fairly indifferent externally, but Stiles suspected underneath was far from it.

Once downstairs, Stiles saw that everyone had already moved to the living room.

As Peter took a seat on the couch beside Lydia, Stiles began. “It appears that Scott did not take his Mom, Melissa, confronting him very well—”

Ally opened her mouth with a range of emotions on her face looking ready to burst forward.

Before anything could be said by Allison, Stiles stated, “He didn’t hurt her, Ally. But he did leave pretty upset. Also, he at least initially blamed me. I have no idea if that is still the case or if he is assuming that I’ve been poisoned against him again or not.’

“As a result of this information, I have decided that it cannot wait even another few hours to debate. I am going to do the ritual that will strip everyone of their Alpha Spark in the county and then restore each spark to their rightful homes. I say this as the only spark I think I can say is most unlikely to return to their current bearer is Scott’s. As we discovered yesterday of all days, Scott has the Hale spark that was stolen from Derek by the same witches who helped Gerard to ambush the Alpha pack.’

“Admittedly, every single Alpha Spark in the county has the risk of not returning to who has it now, but I’ve decided the risk is worth it. None of us need Scott getting hurt or more concerningly getting a bunch of other people hurt with his awful choices. As a result of my choice, I will also allow as many or few of you who wish to join us to do this ritual. If your already assigned partner wants to go—surprise you are going. The more of us there, the better the odds of this working. Additionally, I will need at least two people to stay here.”

What Stiles did not say was how people needed to stay here so that they have some place to fall back to if things go south let alone horrifyingly disastrous. Stiles was in no place to take for granted any one thing or other working out as it was intended to.

With his words out there, Stiles moved to start gathering supplies. “We’re leaving in thirty, so decide amongst yourselves how you want to play this.”

Stiles started in the kitchen, grabbing some sea salt, rosemary, thyme, and a couple other herbs. He then headed upstairs to get a bag to carry these items and others in for the walk to and from where they were heading to. He didn’t want to be caught with his metaphoric pants down, magically or otherwise.

As he got up there, he noticed Peter was following him. “Ya know we’re not partners, right? Remember, you can’t go to school with us.”

Peter shrugged, not bothering with a verbal answer it seemed.

Stiles could not help but draw the parallels between Peter and Derek whenever Peter chose non- verbal responses. Not bothering to try and force an answer for the situation one way or the other, Stiles opted to get into the space saving plastic containers people used to store things under their beds with.

While yes, Stiles did put normal things in there like some clothes and books, Stiles also stashed his magic supplies in there too, like his Wolf’s Bane and Mountain Ash. Pulling out those things and other items for the ritual they would be preforming, Stiles did ask, “Know if any of the Alphas are coming, yet?”

Peter shrugged again, but followed up with, “The Alpha pack? Yes. They want to see. Well, Duke wants to watch what you are capable of. Derek probably doesn’t want to, but he hasn’t put together yet where we are going. Once he knows that he really won’t want to go, but I bet since Cora and I are both going, he’ll be there too.”

Stiles nodded as neither of them mentioned out loud Derek’s likely concerns that if things went wrong and he was the only Hale survivor that he couldn’t take it. If things went fatal bad, most of them knew Derek would prefer to go with his family this time.

Peter, while in Stiles’ room asked, “Thinking you may want another kiss for luck before this ritual?”

Stiles gave pause, having previously dodged going too deeply into the topic of the kiss when Peter had brought it up before due to not having it in him for the discussion by the time some of his bruises were exposed. As it was, Stiles had seen how badly Peter had taken Theo generally bruising Stiles to hell and back. Hell, Derek shoving him up against the wall in his own home? Those bruises were still on him. His pasty pale skin bruised too well in Stiles’ mind sometimes but not enough at others. It's part of what led to the lines on his inner thighs cut in moments of weakness and sometimes fear.

Getting himself off those thoughts, and again grateful for the spell he had learned from the Gnome to disguise his scent and changes therein. “Hmm… maybe? Perhaps a peck this time?”

Peter grinned, flashing one black eye and one crystalline but electric blue one— a reminder that there was more than one consciousness within Peter these days. “Sounds like a plan. Sounds like you are just wetting an appetite. Should I ask for confirmation at the time?”

Stiles rolled his eyes even though he was flushing fiercely. “Think what you want, and please do ask. I don’t like surprises like that.”

They were silent for the rest of Stiles packing the things they would need, including a VERY sharp ceremonial knife for getting the blood works. At the same time, Peter grabbed them both light jackets. Peter using one of Stiles’ Dad’s jackets since they were easily on hand.

After they had everything they needed, Stiles and Peter headed downstairs to find everyone ready to go in the living room once more. Seeing everyone looking like they wanted to go, Stiles asked, “And who is staying here?”

Boyd raised his hand. “Adrian and I are staying here.”

With a nod of approval, Stiles explained. “We’re taking the SUV Derek rented out into the preserve. From there, we’ll walk.”

Erica perked a brow without a word-sharing. Lydia and Ally shared a knowing look suspecting where Stiles wanted to do this.

Derek looked around at everyone, looking both concerned and suspicious.

Stiles hoped every single one of them who went would be returning here alive after the ritual. The dark kitsune had made it sound like the ritual could be greatly demanding— too much for some magic users to attempt and survive, let alone anything else there for the magical happenings.

The drive was somewhat crammed with too many people in the vehicle, but no one wanted to risk having two vehicles and somehow being separated at some point. One of the results of this was Ally sitting on Lydia’s lap who sat on Erica’s lap along with a couple other double ups.

At the same time, the whole drive was silent but for the vehicle itself. Once on the outskirts of the preserve, they drove a ways in before getting out of the vehicle. They then hide the vehicle some in case someone was to come along this way to hike or something.

They all walked equally as silent as everyone had been on the drive. Stiles led the parade of sorts all the way to the Nemeton. Stiles did not have the location mapped or known by heart, but he felt along with his magic. It led to the Nemeton no less accurately. The Nemeton welcomed him as he welcomed it, their magics sharing some kinds of brush bordering on massage.

The Nemeton had saved a pack mate’s life as did the kitsune. Those were not small things in Stiles’ mind. He suspected the Nemeton felt the same.

Once there, Stiles set down his bag of supplies and took out a compass. With the compass in hand, Stiles started moving people around much like he had in his small ritual spell to save Peter’s life. He had his inner circle shaped like a diamond around the old stump: Derek, Ethan, Deucalion, and Aiden.

The next ring was larger with people in the spaces between the Alphas but several steps further back from the Nemeton: Lydia, Allison, Erica, and Cora. It was oddly quite fortuitous that one ring was men and the other women.

Peter, never good at being too quiet for too long, popped his neck. “And no place for me? I feel so left out.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and moved Peter to stand ON the Nemeton.

The wolf looked a hint less cocky than before. “A sacrifice, eh? I think I’d like to sacrifice my virginity a second time if that’s at all an option.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, not even dignifying those words with a response. However, Stiles’ take on that didn’t stop Deucalion from responding. “Like it would even be the second one!”

Peter burst into laughter as the tenseness of the moment was broken some like a false ice smothering that turns out to be fog once you really give it a serious look.

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Deucalion did not know every-single-thing in existence, but he would love to. The wolf was a learned man after all. He did not recognize the formation pattern overall of the two rings, but he did recognize Stiles’ use of the compass to have the directions of the elements assist in guiding him.

Having seen so little real magic performed in his lifetime let alone something this encompassing, Duke was here for genuine curiosities sake. Before being captured by Gerard again, Deuc would have fought this happening beyond just disagreeing. He would have killed the magic user for even daring to think they could do magic that would risk his Alpha Spark before. Curiosity be damned, it would be something he would have considered to be self-defense even though he would frame it otherwise to his pack.

Now though? Now he questioned the use of, value of an Alpha Spark within him. It had not helped him the first time he had been victimized by Gerard. Duke had framed that within his mind as being what happens when you are a stupid idealist. Being attacked after that first time for perceived weakness in his blindness? That was the structure of a pack, the structure of what and who he had surrounded himself with.

After all of that, Deuc had decided that if he became the biggest, the badest, the most powerful wolf of all time beyond just the best of his era. He would be so big and formidable to be someone who was never challenged for his status or even hunted beyond the occasional fool. He’d be too powerful to EVER be a victim again. He would be too smart to EVER be a victim again. He would be the Alpha of Alphas and NEVER be a victim again. He would be the fucking Demon Wolf and NEVER BE A VICTIM AGAIN!

But now? Now, here he was letting a kid preform magic on him and his pack that could strip them all of their Alpha Sparks. Now, he was a victim again— of the same man even! A fucking human! So, here he was, letting another human change him possibly, but Duke couldn’t help but question if he deserved this, especially with his history.

Deucalion had been captured, tricked again. Duke could not even walk to this circle as he had just one full leg. He had to be CARRIED! It was humiliating. Not as much as Gerard inside him, but they all added up to a massive pile of humiliation and reasons Duke was starting to think he needed to change again. He needed to find a way out— a way to NEVER be a victim again. There had to be a way.

Deucalion really didn’t know what affect this would have one way or another, but why not see what the kid can do? There were no reasons anymore to stop him. All Duke was, all he had become to prevent himself being victimized again had failed. He was a failure again and still had no clue how to rectify the situation, to protect himself in the future.

Pulled out of his thoughts some by Stiles manic heartbeat slowly invading his mind, Duke partially shifted his face with his fangs dropping and claws growing on his hands to keep his eyes flashed red so that he could watch the teen continue to set up his ‘ritual’ with the pointed intent to reclaim the Hale spark for the remaining Hales.

Stiles began with sticking cinnamon sticks into the ground in a loose circle around them all.

Duke noted that such a thing was quite brilliant—he was using an herb known for protective powers but more importantly for quick success and evocation. Deuc could not deny finding the teen’s use of the herb to be quite non-standard in his literally encircling them with cinnamon sticks sticking out of the ground. If nothing else, it was a different way than Duke had ever seen any herb used. Normally, it would be a situation in which the ground powder was used with other powders.

He smiled, thinking of it in a sense as a flipping off several pack emissaries Duke had known or seen. He liked the cheekiness of it.

While thinking, Duke almost missed Stiles sprinkling elderberries in and around the cinnamon stick circle. Now that seemed odd. The closest Duke could come in his memory to a use for the things was tea and hidden wisdom. Duke didn’t get it, but he struggled no less.

As it was, he found it fascinating that the inner circle was all sitting on their legs, well, feet for everyone who had them (but only one Duke himself). He could not help but wonder if he was the reason why, but didn’t have much time to dwell on it as Stiles was quick moving and every time he passed near Duke all he felt like dominated his mind was the manic hummingbird heartbeat of the teen.

Next, the teen sprinkled fennel seeds in and around the cinnamon stick circle that he made. And then feverfew with its humble small blossoms was added.

Deuc did remember those little flowers being called a “cure all” type of plant by the emissary he had and then, you know, killed for power that didn’t save him. He could not help but wonder in what capacity was the teen using it in here.

As Stiles passed the Demon Wolf again, Duke felt more and more like he was drowning in the growingly comforting hummingbird wings beat of the kid’s heart. It was regular in its irregularity. Although that thought sounded insane to him, Duke still found the thought fitting.

Next was the herb that looked like Horehound herb with its oval somewhat fuzzy leaves. The leaves only were being sprinkled about. Duke mostly remembered it as something he’d heard be given out to help with digestive issues. It made no sense to him as something to use in this.

Then was a light bit of what looked like sea salt in a small bowl of water. Stiles then carried around the bowl and using his thumb, place a dab of the salted water on the forehead of each alpha in the inner circle. He then set that aside on the stump at the center of this sideshow.

After that, the teen zested a lemon around and inside of the cinnamon stick circle. It was odd, but Duke was hoping it was intended as an energy boost and not a purification as the purification would be overkill as the teen had already basically purified them, at least their third eye if not the whole of them with his saltwater dab on their foreheads.

Stiles then took out some rosemary and traced around each member of the outer circle rings of the healing, purifying herb.

That made no sense to Duke right this moment— circle of protection within a circle of protection?

Then Stiles set aside some of his things. He made a small pile of elderberries on the stump beside his little bowl of purified water. Then he took and placed an incense container. The last items were another small bowl and what appeared to be a VERY sharp ritual dagger. “Okay, we’re just about ready. Ladies, just stay where you are in your mini circles within the larger circle. You all around about unity, witnessing and energies to be pulled on to manifest our intent.’

“Now, Alphas. Each of us is going to make a blood donation to this bowl. Not a big one, but I have to warn you that this dagger has Wolf’s Bane on it. Don’t worry— it’s part of the plan and no one, well definitely no wolf, is dying today from this ritual.”

Stiles went to each werewolf Alpha one at a time to cut their finger and squeeze about one drop of blood out into the small bowl. The teen looked quite faint but was holding on so far. Once it was done, Stiles took the bowl and the dagger with him as he too got onto the old stump.

On the stump, Stiles sat down on his feet just like the inner alpha circle was and Peter followed suit. With the bowl and dagger in hand, Stiles cut Peter next, then looked about ready to pass out, pale as though he was looking death straight in the eye.

Stiles then swallowed hard even as he was growingly unsteady on his feet or perhaps just generally struggling to stay up right. He handed Peter the bowl and the dagger, clearly intentionally not watching the bloodletting or even darning to look at the blood again.

Closing his eyes, Stiles touched Peter’s hand before lifting both his hands overhead up to the sky.

The teen then slammed his hands to the stump he sat on. “Awaken!”

The teen did it again. “Awaken!”

The teen did it a third time. “Awaken, Nemeton!”

After that last time, the teen took the Alphas’ and Peters blood and poured them onto the stump.

Although from his position he couldn’t see what happened, Deucalion distinctly heard a sound like consumption, maybe a slurping? It was disturbing to hear. It was more unsettling than Duke would have expected even if he had known this was coming.

It was certainly a Nemeton, and Stiles just fed it a sacrifice. A small one, but a sacrifice no less.

The teen then raised his hands overhead once again. This time Peter did the same.

However, Deucalion would swear Peter’s eyes were completely dark— werewolves’ eyes don’t do that. He knew better than to have an outburst in the middle of magical workings, but it was a hard sell.

Regardless, there was no time for it anyways as the cinnamon sticks that encircle them all light on fire like a ring of tiny torches. Deuc worked not to show his shock and it seemed Ethan and Aiden were following his example. Deucalion knew they likely assumed he knew what was going on. While that was far from the case, Duke worked to embody that to encourage Ethan and Aiden to remain cooperative with what was going on.

Next, Peter and Stiles touched their over arched hands together with their eyes closed.

Noticing the movement, Derek followed suit in raising his palms to face the Nemeton just a Deuc while they closed their eyes. He suspected everyone closed their eyes too while raising their hands up to face the Nemeton as well.

However, being blind when he wasn’t using his shifted Alpha eyes, Deucalion was used to truly listening to his surroundings. Apparently, that would not be necessary to the degree he anticipated as the teen’s heartbeat was strangely soothing— he didn’t really understand why he honed so easily to that sound, let alone why he found it strangely comforting. Maybe it tied to his rescue?

Then what he knew was the teen, began to speak.

Stiles, likely still with arms outstretched overhead, began to mumble too softly for even the old wolf to hear. But the volume was steadily growing. As it grew, Peter began to speak the words in sync with Stiles.

“With herbs, energy, spark—
Power above, power below, power in eyes, let it go.
With herbs, energy, spark—
Power above, power below, power in eyes, let it go.
With herbs, energy, spark—
Power above, power below, power in claws, let it go.
With herbs, energy, spark—
Power above, power below, power in strength, let it go.
With herbs, energy, spark—
Power above, power below, power in healing, let it go.”

Deucalion felt what he suspected the others felt which was his eyes flash and then almost go out in a sense. He felt his extra strength drain and claws recede to normal human hands. He felt his spark be released from his body.

The sensation left Duke feeling so painfully vulnerable, cold even. Even with his spark not having protected him before, it was like someone had ripped a thin blanket off him while he was freezing. The thin blanket didn’t really help but it was an odd sense of comfort. Duke could feel water fall down his face. It took him a moment to realize it wasn’t something else, but rather his own tears. It was strange to do so without pain or torture at the center of the experience.

Was this all a trick to kill them all? He would’ve done so before. He would have weakened anyone and everyone if he thought it would make him stronger. Before he could completely follow his desperate and fearful thoughts too much further, the teen with Peter were speaking again:

“Swirl and taste, swirl and taste. Give forth the Alpha Spark of the wolves to the true inheritors. Let those who have earned, who deserve the spark be bestowed the spark that should be theirs— NOW!”

Then, Duke heard two pairs of hands be slammed down on the stump.

Much like he expected the others felt for themselves, Duke felt the sudden slam of an alpha spark, his alpha spark shoved deep into him within half a second so hard that it knocked him back off his own leg he was sitting on. It took his breath away for a moment, causing him to be gasping for breath to deal with having had the literal air knocked out of him.

Unable to stop himself, not that he really thought about it, Duke partially shifted once again to flash his Alpha eyes only to see that both Stiles and Peter had been hit so hard that they’d fallen off the stump.

Both gasping too, Stiles and Peter climbed back up into the stump to sit on their legs once again. After a moment, likely to be them getting their barrings, Stiles and Peter both pressed their hands to the Nemeton stump.

It was then Duke also noticed that the cinnamon sticks had burned to the ground and become a flaming, fiery circle around them all, seemingly protecting them all from anyone who may want to attack or somehow be a part of what was happening.

Also, with his Alpha spark, Deucalion truly FELT his pack bonds. They seemed suddenly solid like a brick wall, maybe lined with steel, connecting him not only to his current Alpha but to everyone in this circle and even the two he knew were at the home of his Alpha and even one pack member Duke knew he had yet to meet. Based on how strongly he felt himself tied to Stiles, Deuc put together that the teen too had an Alpha spark leading them all.

With their hands on the Nemeton stump still, both Stiles and Peter were staring at each other with open eyes as they spoke as one:

“With injustice righted and with the Alpha sparks that remain,

With injustice righted and with the Alpha sparks that remain,

With injustice righted and the Alpha sparks that remain,

With this all we thank the universe, magic and you,

We thank the universe, magic and you

We thank the universe, magic and you”

After a moment or so of breathing while still touching the stump of the Nemeton and staring into each others’ eyes, in sync once more, Stiles and Peter spoke:

“Please, Nemeton, feed on the excess magic and close this protective circle by devouring it’s excess magic.”

In seconds the flaming ring of fire, the herbs all around, the small bowls, all the magic items but for the pack members and the one dagger were ‘devoured’ by being literally absorbed into the ground itself.

Duke knew it was over, truly over once Stiles collapsed partially. The teen was barely holding himself up by his hands. Although nothing had overtly happened to the teen in the ritual, Deuc suspected performing this powerful magical ritual had to be incredibly draining, but he didn’t know for sure how much this took out of the magic user for sure. He figured he would likely find out though.

As others began to move around, Deucalion watched Ethan and Aiden grinning likely at still being Alphas.

Derek seemed neither happy nor sad about how things had gone. He mostly just stood and looked sadly at the Nemeton itself. Was there history there for him?

Duke then saw other members of the pack moving toward Stiles.

The one he knew was a young hunter yet was still in the pack asked, “Stiles, are you okay?”

He could not deny his previous temptation to kill her for daring to be a hunter, but now? She was pack. He could no longer even consider such a betrayal. It was weird, but he felt so distinctly bonded to the pack that it was completely unlike any pack he’d even been in during his lifetime. It was disturbing in a way on so many different levels; however, he was pulled out of his mind by Stiles’ response to the little hunter: “Been better.”

Then the banshee approached the new Alpha of Alphas. “Do you need help staying upright?”

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Peter could not help but heave a sigh of relief that the ritual had worked with no one bursting into flames or being otherwise killed. While he knew the dark kitsune could be tricky, Peter held the kitsune to the standard of shared kills. Every kill was them both. This was not a kill though. This was magic running through him in a way the wolf had never experienced. Even as he gasped for air knocked out of him and knew that the legs of his slacks may be permanently stained, Peter was thoroughly thrilled.

However, looking to Stiles was growingly pale and struggling visibly to hold himself up, Peter keyed immediately into his Alpha to find the familiar feel of a spark in his Alpha but also one inside himself. Peter perked a brow in question at the state of the Alpha sparks but also at Lydia’s question: “Do you need help staying upright?”

Peter moved with his Alpha spark’s enhanced speed and his magic-high energy to slip his arms around Stiles to sweep him up into a bridal carry to help the Alpha be a form of upright.

However, when Peter stood, he ended up dropping back to one knee for a moment. He had not been ready for just how tired his muscles were. Looking around himself, Peter noticed that all the Alpha’s seemed a bit stiff, lower energy. He hoped suddenly, even more than he already had, that Stiles was okay. After getting his breath back, feeling his healing kick in to bolster him a bit more, Peter once again stood up, still holding Stiles.

This time, Peter stayed on his feet, his healing having helped.

Stiles still didn’t answer still, having stayed quiet for Peter’s up and down and back up again even, but he moved his hand to his heart and leaning his head on Peter.

Familiar with his Alpha’s habits, his personal needs, Peter actively took slow calm breaths for the teen to mimic and fall into sync with.

Everyone in Stiles’ pack moved closer—Duke even being carried by Aiden to be closer, even Cora moved forward to see if he was okay. The only person not closer now was Derek.

Peter suspected Derek was trying to respect the pack gathering for their apparently, seemingly wounded Alpha. Not having the time or inclination to baby his nephew, Peter growled. “Derek get your brooding ass over here.”

Derek seemed startled from his mind as he slowly joined the others.

Once Stiles’d had some time to apparently calm his breathing while allowing his heart to slow back down to his normal hummingbird wing beat speed, the teen started to regain some color—no longer whiter than a corpse and back to the normal paleness of a first snow.

Stiles was able to hold his head up a bit more but was still clearly exhausted. “Magic, eh? Nogi, how did Alpha sparks go?”

Peter felt one eye remain his own but the dark kitsune took over the other of Peter’s eyes as the kitsune’s smoker’s cough of a voice left his lips. “Quite well. Only three individuals got something different than what they had.”

Deuc growled, impatient with his Alpha weakened. “Come on, out with it!”

Peter chuckled at the Demon Wolf’s impatience. It seemed the whole affair had captured that old wolf’s interest.

The kitsune chittered a laugh in Peter’s mind before speaking again. “The Ennis Alpha spark returned to Peter who was who had killed the insane and feral alpha.”

Duke frowned, clearly sparing a thought for his once pack mate. He seemed to assume someone else here had Kali’s with the way he looked around at the group.

“However, most excitingly, the Hale spark has been taken from that which stole it and gave the Hale Spark to Alpha Stiles Stilinski.”

Derek’s eyes got huge.

Peter wasn’t sure what that meant or how it would bode going forward. The kitsune slipped into the back of Peter’s mind, reviling in all the emotions triggered and shared one way or another in both the ritual and the revelations of where Alpha sparks had gone.

Stile’s head drooped some and laid his head once more on Peter. With a weak groan for what Peter hoped was just exhaustion, Stiles asked, “Did anyone think to bring food?”

Peter chuckled. “No, but I shall get you all of the curly fries in the world if that’s what you want, Alpha Hale.”

Knowing the possible pain and issue his words would and or could cause did not stop Peter for a second from openly stating his take on things.

Derek looked both angry and hurt. Lydia and Ally looked shocked. Erica did not seem to care about Peter’s words beyond Stiles being gotten what he needed. Cora looked shocked as well from the time the revelation of where the Hale spark went as well as what her uncle called Stiles. Duke perked a brow— in surprise maybe? Th twins seemed indifferent.

However, Peter found he had some sense of hope he wanted to not be false. While he did not want to distance his own family, which he would regret if it came to that, Peter really did feel like that was the right thing to call the Alpha now that he had the Hale spark. The spark of his sister, of his father, of his grandfather and so on. It was right, he knew it. Regrets and consequences be damned.

Holding his Alpha just a bit closer, Peter took charge of the situation. “Lydia, would you grab Stiles’ things? I’ll carry him. Aiden, you good carrying Duke all the way to the SUV?”

Lydia perked a brow, but she did as she was asked. “Sure.”

Aiden just gave a growl, apparently taking it as implying his being weak and just turned while holding Deuc and heading for the vehicle.

Allison helped Lydia but then Erica came closer. She gently touched Stiles’ hand she didn’t see anything or wear her current thoughts on her sleeve like normal. Instead, she asked very quietly for only Peter to hear: “Is he going to be okay?”

Peter smiled, a real smile with no snark even with it being small and brief. “He will be.”

Erica nodded, letting out a sigh before relaxing and being more herself.

Letting his smile fall as it had been for her only in that moment, especially with Stiles having already fallen asleep in his arms. It was a good reminder for Peter though that so many of them were still kids. They were not a pack of adult wolves. No, a pack of mostly teenagers. It was important to remember that for him as it was for the teens and others to remember Stiles is human and can get hurt more than them, more irreversibly than them.

Everyone moved to leave the Nemeton to get them all back to the SUV and to Stiles’ house. However, Peter did one last glance back at the Nemeton and gave it a nod of respect and even thanks.

With Derek and his history with the Nemeton and Paige dying, it was good to see the stump be the backdrop for something good happening.

Cora kept pace with Peter as they walked while everyone else was not running but walking with some speed. It was starting to get dark, they had humans who could not see in the dark, and no one had thought to bring flashlights.

With he and Cora bringing up the back, Peter heard quite clearly when Cora said, “Did you mean it? Is he now THE Hale Alpha? What about Derek?”

Shrugging slightly while careful to not disturb Stiles, Peter spoke softly so as to not tempt the teen into waking. “Derek is an Alpha. He is also a Hale but note who has the Hale spark. Who did the Nemeton deem to be the true Hale Alpha by giving him the ancestral Hale spark? The spark your mother, my sister had? The spark her and her father had? There is power and history to an Alpha spark so old. It means something to me, that Alpha spark.’

“I coveted it before the fire. While, yes, I was the left hand and I defended our pack to the best of my abilities, it is THAT spark that means something to me. Derek is still a Hale Alpha. He’s a Hale and an Alpha, so it still fits him and his small pack, but again, it is not the same.”

Cora nodded, seemingly taking a moment to think. “So, he is YOUR Alpha? But he’s human, Uncle.”

Peter sighed. “Yes, he is human and is my Alpha. Did we not have humans in our pack before?”

Nodding, Cora seemed to flinch a bit every time they spoke of things from before the fire, but for better or worse, it was needed in this conversation.

Continuing, Peter held Stiles a bit closer while they passed be some stinging nettle bushes. “They were as much pack as the rest us.”

Cora sighed. “Yeah.”

“So why couldn’t the Alpha be human? You’ve seen him in a fight. You saw him in the efforts to rescue Deucalion. He rescued his enemy and was unwilling to lose a single pack member or other wolf at all. He was unwilling to lose an Alpha even though Duke nor Derek are in his pack. I don’t know how you think of things, Cora, but his loyalty and bravery alone inspire my loyalty. Did Erica or Boyd talk to you about him rescuing them? They were not his pack at the time.’

“However, once Stiles decides you are his responsibility or problem, he is quick as he can be to address it. He thinks beyond pack lines while having a strong pack bond to every one of his betas—wolf or not. How many wolves can you remember or have seen who has taken in and had as a beta a hunter. Let alone an ARGENT hunter? A wolf having a Banshee as a beta?”

Cora nodded. “He just. He is confusing. He just, his heart races like he is about to stroke out, but he behaves as though he is fine. He accepted the Alpha pack into his pack even after what they did to me, them trying to capture Derek’s betas.”

Peter too nodded, understanding in his way. He knew Cora had a LOT of good points about choices Stiles had made up to this point. Peter tried to be considerate as he said softly, “I do not always know why he does the things he does. I know that part of it was and is about securing your release to us and honoring the agreement he made. Much like his father, the sheriff, Stiles is true to his word.’

“Yes, the Alpha pack are not made up of good guys, but a deal is a deal. Stiles magically bound everyone to it. He’s not foolish, but he is not about to filch on a deal.”

Cora furrowed her brows, thinking. “And does this deal… does it affect his loyalties?”

Shaking his head, Peter worked to remain patient with his niece. “No. Loyalty first, deals next so far as I’ve seen, but he is very smart. The deal was worded in such a way as to protect us too.”

She nodded again, asking more quietly, “If I go moon crazy, is he going to put me down?”

Suppressing a chuckle as he knew this was serious and his crazy did not need to be shown off right this moment, Peter said as they were arriving at the SUV. “He’ll figure it out. I don’t know exactly what he has in mind, but I doubt he has forgotten any of that.”

However, as Peter said that, he knew it was already likely dealt with. Cora should have lost her shit the moment she was out of where the Alpha pack had been holding her, but somehow she hadn’t. While he knew it wasn’t a quirk or chance that changed that, Peter did not outright know quite what was going on with that aspect of things. Was it Stiles’ doing? Something else?

Once at the vehicle, Peter got in slowly, still holding Stiles. Sitting in the middle, Peter had Stiles held quite close to him, chest to chest. Stiles’ shifted to curl into Peter in his unconscious state.

Peter kept his feelings about that action to himself. He worried that he could cross a line again. Stiles was still a minor. He was sick for wanting the teen. Worse, he could already feel his mind on fire from the spark.

While he was truly tempted to set Stiles on someone else, Peter kept it to himself. Derek was here, as was Lydia. They’d seen him Alpha mad. He wasn’t in any kind of rush to tip off others to him already struggling.

He didn’t struggle this much when Stiles and his pack saved him before, but then again, there was so much happening. He killed an alpha, yes, but he nearly died a second time and was possessed by an ancient fox spirit. That wasn’t even the end. He may have accidentally submitted to Stiles and walked with him into another battle. Once the battle was over, Peter then was trying to save his Alpha’s life and gave up the spark to help do so.

However, this time? No battle, no life-saving sacrifice. Worse yet, a magic high that helped him feel ready to race to the ends of the earth in a single breath. When added to the spark, it felt like the fires were twice as high. It was not exactly like when he had gotten the alpha spark from Laura, but definitely too close for comfort.

Peter knew he had to do something one way or the other. He thought himself in circles about how he could play this. Give this spark to Stiles as well? He was the true Alpha regardless, Hale Alpha of Peter’s pack. It was how he used to do it with his sister, Talia. But was that right? If he’d had an alpha spark in the end, would he have been able to help save them all from the fire? Prevent the fire overall?

He would never know. Despite the recurring nightmares, he could not change the event that carved him up into someone new. The flames eating him alive changed him that first time as they did again when the humans were trying to set him on fire again. For once, he was relieved Derek slit his throat. He didn’t want to burn alive again anymore than he had. Peter knew then even through madness what of him that was left in his mind would become something much worse if he came back from being burned again.

Peter was strangely grateful he died. It gave him space and distance to really think even as he used Lydia and his nephew, Derek to come back. He came back mentally stronger though he didn’t go out of his way to show all his cards.

However, he couldn’t get over how from the start, even the insanity, there was this one human whose mind was a true challenge. Even though the human had a weaker, more frail body, Stiles’ mind was an iceberg of potential on top and never-ending depth beneath the water.

Maybe that could be the answer? Give Stiles the spark, trusting him to protect them all.

No, Peter thought. Never again. He couldn’t bare the risk— regardless of how much he trusted Stiles more and more— of not being at his strongest at all times to protect himself, even protect his pack and Alpha. Peter knew he couldn’t survive mass pack bonds breaking like he did due to the fire that murdered his whole family nearly.

Taking in calming standard breathes, Peter kept one part of his mind on maintaining the appearance that he was just fine. It seemed to be working on everyone even those sitting beside him…

Except Deucalion who looked to Peter with a brief wink before turning away.

Barely containing a growl, Peter had to double down on being calm and resisting the temptation to launch across the inside of the too small SUV full of teens and rip out the man’s throat for hinting at knowing what was happening within Peter.

Peter kept his outside still tightly restrained into appearing calm if tired even as he was racing inside. He desperately needed to figure out what he could do to not burn up and or go mad. There had to be a way to not destroy the tentative peace he had worked on in this new pack— right?

Notes:

Thank you for reading <3

Chapter 22: The Knots that Bind Us

Summary:

Love. Exhaustion. Harsh. Left. Explanation.

Notes:

Thank you for sticking with me to this point! Trigger warning is in end note.

Lydia could not help the high she felt from the magic. It was strangely intoxicating. It was like she’d had a little too much wine but without having to get used to the taste, without having to focus on it even. It was even a soft intoxication like being high on weed levels of calm with the drunken realities of alcohol. She enjoyed it.

The sensations of her intoxication also allowed for a relaxed yet amorous feeling growing more pronounced in her mind with having Allison on her lap. Even though she was sitting on Erica, Lydia’s entire soul was sitting on her lap.

It was an odd thought of Ally being her soul, but it felt like the right way to describe the person she loved. Ally was her soul. Even with her more mathematically leaning mind, Lydia could not help the more poetic side that Ally brought out of her.

Lydia kept her arms wrapped around Allison’s waist, even occasionally giving a little squeeze of a hug.

Each time she gave her soul a little squeeze of affection, Lydia was rewarded in a sense with Allison turning her head and staring lovingly back at the Banshee. It made Lydia’s toes want to curl and even gave the red head the slightest bit of a blush. God, Lydia loved Ally.

Even knowing that they were not alone in this vehicle, Lydia still felt like her whole world narrowed to just Allison every time the girl looked back at Lydia with that soft smile of hers. It narrowed all of existence to that sweet face and smile. It was a face, an expression that could launch and run thousands upon thousands upon trillions of sea craft and more.

Once everyone got back to Stiles’ home, Lydia took Ally’s hand and snuck up stairs with her to have blissful solace if only for a moment together unburdened by the reality. Not sparing too much of a thought on things, Lydia pulled Allison quietly up the stairs as what seemed like a possible disagreement was taking place. The realities of their lives or the battles coming that they weren’t sure they were ready to fight were left downstairs if only for a short while.

The moment they were out of sight and into the upstairs hallway, both girls each crashed into one another, all fumbling hands, and hungry lips.

It immediately made the whole world a much better place to have this touch, this moment together. Ally nipped Lydia’s lower lip before kissing her way along flesh to nibble on Lydia’s ear lobe before whispering, “Room?”

Lydia faintly nodded before pulling Ally by the hips closer to set up a strained grinding and pressing against one another while stumbling into a room and then onto a bed.

While their lips were all over one another’s bodies and tongue, Lydia alongside Allison began stripping them both. Lydia needed Ally’s skin on her, needed this moment together. It was not their first time in a bed together, but it was no less magical. Even more so, now that they were able to be open with their relationship (due to having broken it off with their respective boyfriends that they’d been cheating with each other on) every touch, kiss and more felt accepted in ways Lydia had never expected to matter to her at all let alone this much that she truly felt comfortable being herself.

Naked over Allison’s also naked body, Lydia paused and just looked down at her girlfriend a little breathless. “You really do take my breath away constantly. I love you so much.”

Ally looked up to her just as breathless. “I love you too and forever.”

Smiling, Lydia leaned down to begin making out with her girlfriend more gently in all the ways she knew would drive the hunter wild with want while jump starting her build toward an orgasm. At the same time, while the banshee held her own body over Allison’s, Lydia let one of her hands let go of the bed to caress Ally’s cheek then move down to stroke her neck. Next was working down to the soft breast with an already quite erect nipple.

Lydia then lavished both of Ally nipples with all her love and mouth could until the nipples were damp and thoroughly loved. Lydia wanted to make sure Ally felt every drop of love. It was hard to say if Lydia could share it all as this was an unspoken quickie as they would be needed downstairs and or at least noticeably absent at some point.

Lydia made an executive decision in that moment. “Just you for now.”

Ally perked a brow, well really both went up, so Lydia couldn’t count it as a single perked brow. Her goddess Allison had yet to pull off the one brow perk. It was cute in a way.

Lydia kissed Ally again on the mouth with all her love before pulling back to speak against her lips. “Lack of time. I’ll be patient… for a little while.”

Ally grinned at that, but it didn’t last as Lydia slid a finger between Allison’s legs, between her delicate folds to find her already slicked up from arousal like Lydia loved to find her in these moments. Ally was perfect.

Swirling her fingers through Ally’s juices, the fiery red head began to travel all around in those juices to be a preamble as at no time did, she touch her girlfriend’s clit. Oh, she would make her beautiful hunter wait for that. She knew Ally could climax from clit stimulation alone, so a bit of teasing before going for it only build the hunter higher.

Lydia kissed Allison again, swallowing her little whimpers, keeping them all her own while allowing herself to pretend there wasn’t room full of wolves downstairs who could likely hear everything happening between them.

After a few minutes of torturing her sweet girlfriend, Lydia focused her fingers to swirl the girl’s clit, occasionally brushing over the swollen nub. Unable to wait any longer to watch Ally fall apart, Lydia focused her attention on the swollen nub gently, knowing it was nearly oversensitive already. Lydia couldn’t help but think incredibly briefly of the old tootsie pop commercials that asked how many licks to the center of a lollipop. How many strokes to the center of Ally?

However, the thought was gone nearly as quickly as it came as Ally was already struggling to keep up with their kisses or stay anywhere close to still. The hunter was oh so close. Lydia grinned into their kiss before gently putting pressure directly onto the swollen nub, the source of what would happen next with her index finger.

Ally came apart with a cry out into Lydia’s mouth as the banshee was still kissing her.

Lydia gently stroked the girl’s clit to keep her pleased all through her orgasm.

By the time the hunter had thrashed, kissed, and whined her way through her climax, Lydia could not wipe off her own self-satisfied grin. Getting her girlfriend to cum her brains out always made Lydia feel both accomplished and deeper in love.

Lydia helped Ally up on her shaky legs. They went together to the up stairs bath. With Ally still a bit out of it from her orgasm, Lydia washed her own hand of Ally’s fluids, and then used the wash clothe already there to gently clean up Ally.

Throwing the washcloth into the bathroom hamper on their way back into the room they had been having sex in, Lydia realized with relief that it had been Stiles’ room. It would’ve been too weird if it had been the Sheriff’s room, in retrospect.

Both girls got themselves dressed. They even opted not to kiss as it would honestly just start the whole thing all over again. However, they did hug each other tightly once fully dressed. It was a quiet moment- between them.

Out of their intimate distracted state, they both could feel as well as hear Stiles’ frustration downstairs. They had no clue what the problem was, but they were sure that they were going to find out.

Even though they wanted to help and support their Alpha, they hung on in that hug for a bit longer to that comfort between just the two of them could be harder to come by.

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Stiles was so exhausted. He fell asleep on the way to the SUV in the preserve. However, he had woken up on the way into his house. It had been a frustrating wake, but to be fair he was so tired that any wake would be frustrating.

Derek spoke as they got into the house. “Well, me and mine are not staying the night again.”

Stiles groaned at that. He understood the adult wolf had a life, but could he really not see that staying together helped to keep them all safe? Stiles was not trying to be oppressive: he just didn’t want anyone else to end up like Deucalion. He didn’t know the limit of what wolves could take, but he had no interest in finding out. He moved to sit on the couch as Peter set Stiles on his own two feet.

Derek, the butt head, did not wait for discussion despite Peter’s attempts to encourage his nephew to stay.

Peter pointed out the obvious. “Derek, Gerard is still out there. It is safer if we all stick together as much as we can.”

Shaking his head, Derek crossed his arm over his chest, clearly disliking how it felt with only one arm, but sadly, he would probably get used to it. “No. Gerard’s alive because YOUR Alpha wouldn’t let me kill him!”

Stiles groaned, sitting up more fully on the couch. “No, I’m the Alpha that stopped your sudden vengeance-drive to save your life. You would not have made it out of there on you own, Derek!”

Huffing, Derek did not budge. “No. Maybe the real problem is you couldn’t have handled staying because you’re a weak human!”

Although he flinched faintly at his own words, Derek continued. “You’re just weak, pathetic… you let them get to you, maybe! Huh! Anyone here ever think of that?!”

Stiles tilted his head faintly to the side: something was wrong. This did not sound like Derek, not really. It was the wolf’s voice, body, even occasional recklessness and demeaning of Stiles, but this? These words? They were going too far. Too far for anything Derek would say aloud even with so small a pack. Hell, these were more words than the wolf usually said aloud period, not counting what the words were.

The teen was unsurprised when Derek, clearly believing he won even if Stiles had no idea what he won, spoke again. “Boyd, Adrian. It’s time to go.”

Stiles perked his brow.

Derek responding with. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that Erica is one of yours. Stay away from my pack. We don’t need you or your magic games.”

Stiles barely restrained the growl he did not have the energy to push out. He just wanted, had wanted from the start, for everyone to be okay. Scott was dangerous. Stiles thought he was protecting them all with his actions.

He’d never imagined getting the Hale spark or even having ANY spark when all was said and done. He just considered the possible sacrifice worth it as surely Peter would end up with a spark and if not? Stiles and Peter could join up with Derek and get the wolf on the right page and ease or push him into becoming a better Alpha.

But this? Magic games? He was ill-prepared for that response and how much it hurt. Then again, he was also ill prepared for what came next.

Derek growled again. “Cora, come on. Leave these tricksters, so you can stay safe with me.”

Cora looked around, likely seeing the shock on everyone’s faces at Derek ripping free and going his own way while they all had Gerard’s attention with what they pulled. She also likely saw Erica giving Boyd a tight hug and whispering something in his ear so quietly that even her wolf ears wouldn’t hear.

Stiles knew, but that was only because he knew his pack cared for each other and knew this was a reckless move to split up. There was safety in numbers. He knew Erica had to be saying something akin to words of safety and possibly of coming back as soon as he could.

Boyd kissed Erica’s cheek as they split apart.

Derek was still looking expectantly at Cora even though his whole two pack members here were hugging and saying goodbyes like they may not make it to see them all again. Even Adrian looked scared as he too hugged Erica tight.

Then both Adrian and Boyd gave Stiles a hug wishing him well.

Derek was not paying them any mind right this moment, clearly trying to get Cora out of what he considered unsafe— false clarity made clear through his calling them tricksters.

Stiles suspected it was meant as a form of slander, but Stiles just could not take it that way. They were tricksters, he hoped. Tricksters were powerful and quick witted. He knew all of them needed every possible advantage if they were to survive the can of pissed off hornets they just kicked by getting Deucalion free let alone Gerard seeing them all with his own eyes.

Not sure if he remembered right, Stiles would swear the cruel old man smiled at them, seeing them in some way Stiles could not yet put his finger on. It was disturbing to say the least.

Derek growled again. “CORA! NOW! We’re leaving!”

Cora stepped forward to Derek, but before Derek could finish turning away as though he had succeeded and would lead them all forward, Cora pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry, but with the Hale spark, I will go. It didn’t choose you. Please, stay. We’re all safer together. I have to stick with the last piece of Mom remaining.”

Derek shoved her back from him, flashing red eyes that looked so hateful it was hard to believe it was Derek. It made no sense.

Peter came to Cora and pulled her to his chest, holding her securely and covering her back with his hands. “Just go. If you want to do this, just go.”

Derek growled again; eyes still red before just leaving. The wolfman didn’t even look back, assuming his pack would just follow.

Stiles frowned, but let it go for the moment as he was weakened, and his pack was not in good sorts right this moment.

Once Derek and his were out of hearing range, Peter gave Stiles a nod.

The teen then sighed. “Okay, I think most of us can agree that was out of character for Derek, right?”

Most of the group nodded. Cora was still pressed up to Peter’s chest. While she seemed to seek shelter for the time being, Peter sighed. “Something is wrong there. I don’t know what, but there is definitely something going on there.”

Stiles gave a concise nod, then held his head. “Okay, may have gone a little magic crazy today… did not prep for as much magic as I did.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Erica, would you come here for a moment?”

Erica wiped some tears from her face before heading to Peter. “I feel like they all left to die or be caught by Gerard.”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re gonna figure it out, Erica. I don’t want Gerard to fuck up our lives any more than he already has.”

Peter held Cora one handed as he took out his wallet with his other hand. With one hand still around Cora, Peter managed to push up his secondary credit card out of his wallet. “Erica, take this card and order enough food for everyone. I don’t care what.”

Once Erica took his card, Peter put his wallet back into his back pocket and then held Cora with both arms. He kept her tight to him while Erica went to Stiles.

Stiles perked up on the topic of food a bit.

Erica came right up to where he was on the couch and looked around to him and everyone else there. “Any strong preference anyone for food?”

Most seemed most excited about there being food in the plan while everyone was clearly trying to hide how much the magic had them buzzing while also wearing them out. Though none actually ‘helped’ by the spell casting itself, they all had contributed energy into the ritual. It was no small amount of energy either.

Duke, who had also been sat on the couch, looked ready for bed right that second but kept fighting it seemed to keep his eyes open and himself attentive. The older Alpha shrugged. “Meat.”

Stiles let loose a stray giggle before addressing Erica directly. “Order Chinese. Get enough to feed an army plus something at least kind of healthy for my Dad when he gets home. There are a bunch of eat out menus in the back of the silver ware drawer in the kitchen.”

Erica giggled. Lydia and Ally who had just gotten downstairs giggled too. They all knew where the eat out menus were and how the rotation of their location worked to keep Stiles’ Dad from finding them and breaking his heart healthy diet.

Laying his head back on the couch back, Stiles groaned. “I swear, I’m either going to pass right out or eat for an army alone.”

Peter chuckled, kissing the top of Cora’s head as she was withdrew from his arms.

Cora upon separation from Peter, wiped a stray tear or two away that everyone didn’t see at all, not one bit. Seeming to have recovered enough to speak, Cora wore her Hale attitude as an armor once again as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Are we actually going to feed them? The ones who abducted me?!”

Stiles sighed and lifted his hands up in a sort of gimme motion.

Recognizing the intent, Peter moved to Stiles and picked him up.

As he was lifted from the couch, Stiles explained, kind of what was going on. “Cora, let’s step outside to have a little chat please, okay? Everyone else? Stay in here, please. Also, leave food for us if the food comes before we come back in—looking at you Allison.”

Stiles actively watched Cora to check that she was coming with as he had asked. He did not assume or take for granted that she would cooperate and do as he had asked.

The comment at the end clearly eased up some of the tension in the room as some laughs escaped a few people. The loudest being Lydia at both being caught off guard by the comment and knowing Allison ate more like a wolf than the teen girl she was.

Once outside, Stiles motioned to be set on the ground.

Peter rolled his eyes, but he let the teen down to sitting on the back-porch step.

Cora moved to sit beside her fellow teen while Peter stepped back to lean against the house itself.

Stiles sighed, gently touching her hand. “When I touch you like this, I can stop the others from hearing our words, okay?”

Cora nodded, seemingly grateful for the privacy. She had already seen Stiles do magic and that he was odd, so she had no reason to doubt. “Why then? Why are we feeding them?”

Sighing, Stiles ran a hand through his hair. “You know that answer. It was part of the deal to protect them. In my mind? That means encouraging them to get enough to eat and more. Yes, they’ve done shitty stuff. But I need to keep up my end of the bargain or they could take you. I can’t let them do that, and you know it.”

Cora frowned with angry eyebrows just like Derek—damn this family spoke so hard in eyebrows. “Maybe we could just poison them. It’s could be treated as the ultimate protection.”

Stiles sighed yet again. “I know you don’t mean that as hard as you are saying. From what I understand, your Mom was very much about peace whenever it was an option. Even when you may not see it or understand the choices I make, I am genuinely trying to make the best choices for my pack that I possibly can.”

Rolling her eyes, Cora corrected him. “I’m not your pack. Just because I didn’t go with Derek, it doesn’t mean I have accepted your leadership.”

With a tired, but friendly smile, Stiles gave her hand the slightest squeeze. “But you are incredibly important to my right hand—Peter, your uncle. Taking care of my pack includes taking care of the things that matter most to them. In this case, it’s you. I won’t let anything hurt you, even those I’ve let into my house.”

Perking a curious and questioning brow, Cora asked. “But why? You’re not a wolf. You can’t feel the bond. You don’t even know how a wolf pack works.”

Smiling still, Stiles shrugged. “It’s a family. Even with my blood family being small and dysfunctional, I know what family should be, can be. I want those I care about, regardless of the terms used to identify the group, to be safe, cared for, and as happy as I can possibly make them. I’m not the end all be all, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try. I have to.”

She nodded and shrugged. “I suppose.”

Once it was apparent that his peer was thinking about things and unlikely to ask too much more, Stiles motioned for Peter to join them while taking his hand away from Cora. “Please set me aside. Then you two can speak, also privately.”

Peter nodded, helping Stiles to move aside and further up the back porch.

Then the older wolf touched Cora’s hand the same way Stiles did. One of Peter’s eyes went black while the other remained blue for just a moment before both his eyes were again blue. “Okay, now we too are speaking privately.”

Perking a brow, Cora asked, “And what are we going to talk about? Me submitting to your Alpha?”

With a pained look in his eye, Peter shook his head no. “I need to tell you what happened to Laura.”

Notes:

***Trigger Warning for sex***

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 23: Calm Before the Storm

Summary:

Confession. Pack. Argent. Black bile. Yoga.

Peter didn’t know how he could ease the pain for Cora, but he had to tell her the truth. “You see, after our family was burned alive, I was the only person to survive the fire itself. If surviving is what you can call being fully aware while trapped in a coma for six years while my body oh so slowly healed itself.’

“Anyways, while I was in the coma, Laura took Derek then left me behind and undefended to flee to New York. I’ve never known for sure, but I suspect it was out of fear that the Argent hunters would kill them too if they stayed. But, regardless, they left.’

“Having nothing but my own dissolving sanity to deal with losing so many pack bonds, losing my wife and child... and grieving them all alone, my mind cracked. At the same time my mind cracked, I began putting together a better understanding of how this all had come to be—all the little pieces and big that made the fire possible. So, after six years, I started being able move again, but I kept it secret. I manipulated my night nurse and began my work.’

“I started hunting and killing everyone I blamed, knew was guilty. I left the symbol, the spiral, for a vendetta. Apparently, that made its way to Laura somehow. However, I was too mad, too crazed to see it. In the heat of the moment, she caught up to me by accident in all likely hood. We fought. I gained her alpha spark and was pushed to beyond madness as I realized I had killed my own niece… more things occurred after that, but I think that’s the point at which you may hate me forever. Derek does after all.”

Cora had tears running down her cheeks. “Do you regret it?”

Peter squeezed her wrist lightly in comfort. “Every. Single. Day.”

Looking down, he continued. “I don’t really remember having done it fully. I was crazed and desperate, and I did that to her. According to Stiles, who found part of her body, I ripped her in half. I… after Derek and some of the others killed me—”

Cora made a choked sound.

Before she could do much more, he kept his eyes to the ground and continued because if he didn’t power through right now he wasn’t sure he ever could. “I tricked, when I was alive, Lydia by marking her with my bite so that a part of me would be tied even if only slightly to her. Even crazed, I knew somehow that I needed a backup plan. As a result, after I was killed and buried by Derek under our old house, I laid dead, but some part of me was holding out, not crossing over or moving on.’

“From there, I think, I manipulated Lydia into using Derek to bring me back to life. It all is a little muddled— being dead and all, but I resurrected as a result. And here I am. The time dead and coming back when paired with Derek having been the one to slit my throat and took my— the Alpha spark I’d had allowed me to recover much of my sanity.”

Cora nodded awkwardly. “But now you have an Alpha spark again… are you going to go mad and kill us all?”

Shaking his head, Peter looked up and then into her eyes. “I will NEVER do that. I’ll take my own life first. I can’t—the weight of having killed Laura haunts me every day as it does every night deeper and deeper into despair. I would never survive let alone risk doing something like that again. It would break me. I… I care about you all so much. You are all I have left of my family, of my sister. I can’t bear this ever again beyond the terrors of what I have already done.”

She nodded. “Okay. I don’t forgive you necessarily just yet— I need time to think this over, but I do believe you that you are constantly punished by your own mind. So, in a sense, you are your own worst punishment.”

Peter nodded.

Cora then touched his knee softly. “I’ve missed you Uncle Peter. You have no idea how much.”

Not waiting to try and tell if it was okay to do or not, Peter pulled her tight into a hug. “Oh, I do. I thought you too were dead, remember? I missed so much the way you followed me around all the time, asking why and other questions so much I wasn’t sure if you were a child or a reverse encyclopedia, taking in all the knowledge rather than giving it all out. I remember how you loved My Little Pony not because friendship was powerful or the bright colors but because you thought the boy bullies would eventually get theirs for being so mean.’

“I swear you are the only little girl I’ve ever even heard of who watched a show they did not like just to see the villains get punished. You were looking to be a perfect right hand since Laura was first in line for your mother’s spark.”

Cora nodded, holding Peter just as tightly. No matter anything else, this moment, this quiet moment between them meant so much. They both were looking at someone they had believed to be dead. It was surreal.

After a while, they were interrupted by soft yet somehow aggressive snoring from Stiles who appeared to have fallen asleep on the back porch near them. In his sleep, he had curled up just right to protect his tender organs.

Cora looked to him once she and Peter let each other go. “Why does he do that?”

Sighing, Peter moved to get up. “I think someone hurt him.”

“Think it was that bad?”

Peter looked to her. “Smell it? The sheer terror in his scent?”

Cora nodded. “It was bad, whatever it was. He ever tell you what it was?”

Shaking his head, Peter gently picked the teen up. He noted that some of the terror in the teen’s scent eased as it tended to with the wolves touching him. It seemed they caused him to feel safe. Or at least safer? Since Stiles didn’t really talk about what made him fight sleep so much or struggle against unseen monsters when actually sleeping, Peter like the others, was left in the dark as to why these things haunted Stiles let alone what they were.

Cora set her hand softly on Stiles’ hand in a show of support.

However, the touch of someone new, someone not in his pack woke him with a wild scrambling that almost caused Peter to drop the boy.

Peter perked a brow at the teen once he seemed to recognize where he was and with who. Peter had never seen what happens when someone outside of the pack touched Stiles while he slept. It was fascinating in its own way. It clarified things at least in that it wasn’t wolves that caused him to feel safe, but HIS wolves that helped Stiles feel safe.

Stiles seemed to unconsciously curl some into Peter. “Food?”

Peter grinned. “Let’s go see. Cora, could you get the door for us?”

Cora nodded. She went and opened the back door, even holding it open for them, so it didn’t bump them when let go.

Once inside the house, they could see that food had recently arrived as Erica and Lydia were getting out dishes for everyone while Allison, Aiden, and Ethan set up the food on the table. On the kitchen counters were a few bottles of different types of soda and a couple even of ginger ale.

Duke was still on the couch. It seemed the Demon Wolf too had fallen asleep in the break between Derek’s dramatic departure and food arriving. Peter couldn’t blame the man. Things were high energy and exhausting all at once since the ritual for the Alpha Spark redistribution.

Peter gently set Stiles on the couch on the opposite end from Duke.

Peter intended to get his Alpha a plate.

Even as he moved to fetch food, Peter heard his Alpha announce: “Please extra brown rice with terriaki chicken and pork. Also, we should all watch Lion King!”

Erica and the others of the pack who had been there the longest laughed. Allison broke away from dealing with the table— leaving it in Aiden and Ethan’s capable hands—she went to the living room and dug out the movie announced and began setting it up to be watched.

All the teens and even adults ended up piling up plates of delicious food before everyone settled into the living room for the movie.

Stiles devoured the food Peter had brought him.

Peter sat on the couch between Duke and Stiles, eating his own over-filled plate.

Once done with his food, Stiles set it aside on the end table. The teen then tilted himself over to lay himself partially over Peter’s lap. The teen seemed to know exactly how to help with his nightmares apparently even without saying anything to anyone.

Choosing not to contain it, Peter grinned like a fool. All the teens seemed to be watching the movie anyways, so it was not like he was likely to be caught.

When done with his own plate, Peter set it aside on Stiles’ equally empty plate on the side table. Once the plate was out of the way, Peter was not entirely surprised all the movement did not wake Stiles. Stiles who Peter knew was stronger than most of them realized. Probably stronger than Stiles himself realized.

Running what he hoped would be a soothing hand through Stiles’ hair, Peter looked to see if Duke was paying any attention. As the man’s plate was on the ground in front of him— empty like other two plates from people sitting on the couch— Peter saw that Duke too was asleep.

Duke being asleep made as much sense as Stiles being asleep. Where Stiles was worn out by magic use and the unseen strength needed to cast such a massive spell let alone with a kitsune, Duke was worn out as his body was still healing from what all Gerard did to him.

Peter’s body was worn out too, but not his mind. After a moment more of considering, including the Demon Wolf for purely healing purposes, Peter decided on a different route. “Ethan? Aiden? Come join Duke so that he has pack nearby since I am taking Stiles upstairs to sleep.”

Without waiting for confirmation, Peter slipped free from under Stiles. He then worked very carefully to lift him without waking him. Once he had the boy up in his arms in a bridal carry, Peter noticed Lydia had grabbed a couple blankets and was heading upstairs. “I’ll set up the bed.”

The banshee seemed to assume, or maybe know that Peter would not be taking advantage of the situation right now at least.

Peter waited a moment to move up the stairs, but he did get out of the way for Ethan and Aiden who were carrying their second plate each of food to sit with their former Alpha.

As he heard Lydia finishing up, Peter headed upstairs. As they passed one another in the upstairs hall, Lydia spoke quietly. “Hurt him and I will destroy you.”

Peter gave her a nod and carried Stiles the rest of the way into his bedroom to find the bed made as expected. The sheet and blanket were even pulled back some, which made it easier for Peter to set Stiles into bed before covering the teen with blankets more thoroughly.

Once Stiles was in, Peter walked around to the other side of the bed and slipped in beside his Alpha. Peter repositioned them once they were both in the bed, so Peter was the big spoon wrapped protectively around the little spoon,

Holding Stiles safely close, Peter could not deny that his mind wandered. He noticed how easy it would be right that moment to take anything he sought, but for what he truly wanted Stiles would need to be truly consenting in the interaction. Then there was the reminder he had in his own head that Stiles was a minor. This was, had to be, wrong.

None of it was helped by the Alpha spark trying to burn up his mind nor the dark kitsune in his mind that was openly scheming about how to destroy Gerard and possibly the Alpha Pack when they returned to being a separate entity.

The Alpha spark burning Peter up kept reminding Peter thankfully of the power of being an alpha while his mind was on replay with images and feelings of that first time he had an Alpha spark, and how he gained it. Peter tried so hard to focus on the moment after getting the Alpha when he realized that he killed his niece for it, realized he’s killed one of his very, very few family members left after the Hale fire that claimed nearly all of them.

He tried to focus on what he had done with the newly gained alpha spark. He felt he had focus on the price it cost him to get the spark. The rest of it, he knew, tempted him to do things he knew he couldn’t, well no, shouldn’t do. A killing spree one time is enough. He also reminded himself of not killing Derek no matter how many times he was a knuckle head. He didn’t hurt his family. That was something he began thinking on repeat. He as not willing to risk losing more of his family even though he felt the need to keep the Alpha spark to protect him and his. While he didn’t want, mostly, to go on a killing spree and risk hurting his remaining family, Peter did feel that he had to protect this family better than he had his own.

How good of a left hand was he really if a bunch of hunters? One hunter? Were able to get so close and burn them all alive in their home. He had to keep the power to have the power to prevent what had happen before. He couldn’t bare losing another pack, another family, and he did need to be at his utmost defense levels as now they had gotten Gerard’s attention even more than they possibly had before.

They all, especially him, needed to be on guard and ready to defend at less than a second’s notice. He could not give up the Alpha spark that was a symbol, a resource to protect them all from the REAL monsters.

Peter stroked over Stiles’ chest to reassure them both. He couldn’t bear losing another pack, another family to the true monsters. He had to be his best, which in and of itself had to be so much better than he’d been before. No more flames in his life, if he had his way, even if he dreamt of the flames and screams and more of when his family were killed nearly every time he held tight metaphorically to his Alpha spark. He would do, be better this time. No one would hurt them again. He couldn’t let this happen again.

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The next morning…

Stiles was already up in the kitchen when most people in the house began to wake. Peter and Lydia were already up and drinking their caffeinated beverages in the kitchen. Ally too was awake, but had opted for a quick shower this morning, so she was upstairs in the bathroom.

While Peter drank some his hoity toity tea that he had stashed here for when he spent the night (hear in Stiles’ bed just about every night), Lydia was offered some of the coffee Stiles brewed while letting Stiles know that black coffee was gross but worked in a pinch, but she would ultimately just like tea. Peter had decided to share, and the caffeine battles were prevented in Stiles’ mind.

The mind. Stiles’ was running circles touching on each angle and resource available to them and how he could find a way to address the Darach while also dealing with Gerard and possibly Scott. Stiles figured that just because Scott had not shown his face or reached out yet did not mean the teen would be okay with losing his alpha spark.

As he was working and planning angles in his mind, Stiles both had an ‘ahah’ moment and started putting food in pans to cook. While putting the potatoes on as well as setting the eggs in water to boil with a timer for each set on his phone, Stiles smiled mischievously. How could one be in three places at once? Have someone else fully take over one! Chris Argent!

As he was thinking that possible answer if the hunter would play ball, Allison came into the kitchen dressed in black leggings, a slightly big black t-shirt, and bare feet. The young hunter still had wet hair and the lack of shoes and wet hair helped Stiles keep his grin as she was becoming more and more comfortable by the day! It was proof. Most of the wolves were far easier to please than getting even a teen hunter to relax or Lydia Martin to either.

Things seemed well on their way.

With Ally now here, Stiles put the ground sausage into what would become the scrambled eggs pan once they were closer to eating. “Ally, would you be so sweet as to invite your Dad to brunch here? It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”

Cocking her head to the side, Ally shrugged, pulling out her phone. “Careful what you wish for, he’s still mad about not being told about the witches in town a few months back.”

Stiles nodded. “Hence breakfast-y food goodness to ease the way.”

Ally shook her head good naturedly with a smile as she moved upstairs to take the call in Stiles’ room.

Meanwhile, Stiles put lids on all the he was currently cooking and turned on the hot plate for it to heat up. “Lydia, did you happen to perhaps ask my Dad last night about the names we had given him?”

Grinning wickedly herself, Lydia set down her drink on the counter. “Yeah, I did. Figured I should pick up the slack of the sleeping Alpha.”

She and Stiles shared a smile as they both knew she wasn’t serious. She was just pulling his leg. The serious last for one second before that smile. “But yeah, your Dad found nothing. He said he could barely prove they had lived. He basically could track down birth certificates but everything else that there would have been for most people was missing. He seemed to think we were playing with fakes.”

Stiles perked a brow as he looked to Peter.

Peter responded by taking a sip of his tea before speaking. “They didn’t lie. I even double checked with Boyd who heard nothing either. Plus, they seemed as happy to have the Darach gone as we would be.”

Stiles nodded again while pulling more things out of the fridge and setting them on the counter. “okay. Then I’m glad I’m calling in help for that. Maybe Chris Argent can do more than my Dad.”

Just then Ally came downstairs with a thumbs up indicating that her father had said yes, and Stiles could not help but mutter under his breath. “He better be able to do more.”

Stiles didn’t like the idea of involving another hunter in this. He’d need to talk to the others about who Duke, Ethan, and Aiden were in relation to Stiles secretly being an Alpha as well as how much overall they wanted to share with the Argent hunter who would be probing for much more information than Stiles was ready to give. This was going to be dicey.

About ten minutes later, having already put on the bacon and having started seeing everyone get up, Stiles drew everyone’s attention to fixing up the dining room table and cleaning up the bedding everywhere. He’d told them they could stash all the bedding in his room.

Once all of that was done, Stiles coaxed everyone to the table in one form or another to talk. “Okay, Christopher Argent is joining us for breakfast. We need to decide how much anyone is comfortable with sharing.”

Tilting his head faintly to the side, Aiden stared. “Don’t you decide that as the Alpha?!”

Stiles smiled caringly. “Yeah, that’s how it works in other packs; however, if there is anything anyone else thinks and or knows that we need to keep hidden, I want to know. We’re a pack, but we are also a family. Everyone’s thoughts and ideas matter. Plus, I have no idea how much about everyone is known, and I would love it if Argent didn’t know I had an Alpha spark just for us to put a hunter on the Darach’s trail.”

Aiden flipped Stiles off, but then let a bit of a smile leak onto his face.

Stiles smiled too. “Okay, so, game plan?”

About ten minutes of cooking, scheming, and keeping the wolves out of the kitchen later, there was a brisk knock on the door akin to a cop knock.

Stiles rolled his eyes, asking sweetly, “Ally? Would you be so kind as to let your father in while I finish plating up for everyone?”

Giving a nod, Ally went to door, intentionally having stayed in her relaxed cloths in an attempt to show things were safe and okay here, so no need to look around for the Alpha pack members quietly eating their breakfast in Stiles’ room.

Stiles continued plating and giving plates to Lydia and Peter to put at the table for people.

Meanwhile, Allison met her Dad at the door and ushered him to the table where Erica was already seated.

Chris sat at the head of the table where Ally had encouraged him to sit.

Soon everyone was sitting at the table with heaping plates before them.

While they all ate, Stiles cut up his food smaller. It wasn’t to make eating easier, but more to busy his hands and hide his exhaustion if only a bit. “So, Mr. Argent, you have complained quite loudly about us not including you with what happened with the witches months ago. We’ve all talked and decided that you were not wrong.”

Chris perked a brow, pausing his lift of fried potato with his fork. “But not entirely right, I take it?”

Stiles felt his lips lift a hint at the corner. “Knew I always found you a smart man.”

Chris grumbled, taking his bite of fried potatoes. In his jeans, boots, flannel button down and a rancher’s heavy-duty coat.

Stiles kept cutting up his food, keeping a close eye on his whole pack. He wasn’t worried they would do anything, but more he worried that Chris would. “Look, I am not in a rush to trust an Argent. That’s true, and I think it’s fair considering everything you father and sister have done that I know about, which I’m sure is only a tiny bit of the horrors they have committed that you know about not even counting the things you probably don’t know so far.’

“However, we do need help, and we are willing to give you kind of a training trust exercise.”

Brows furrowing, Chris looked about to pop though he did flinch at the mentions of both his father and sister. “What are you talking about? Training trust?”

Stiles sighed. “Look, I don’t trust you. To be honest, the only person close to trusting you is your daughter, and even on that, you’ve done damage, like not telling her the whole truth about what happened to her mother. This is your one, and ONLY, chance to open the door to trusting you for both your daughter and me. Peter never will trust you nor will Erica. She, like me, barely can stand that you are here, but again, we need help, so we’re offering you an olive branch of sorts, an opportunity to be included in things going forward. But if you betray us? I will kill you myself, then let the others deal with your body however they please.”

Chris looked so angry he could burst into flames both himself and everyone in this room. Likely the adult had never been talked to like this by someone younger, let alone a boy who runs with wolves, had he ever encountered that to start with. However, when he looked to his daughter and saw how ashamed of him she looked, the wind stalled in his sails. Instead of telling anyone where to shove anything really, Chris gave a form of voice to his deflation. “What are you wanting me to do?”

Stiles sighed, internally very, very grateful the hunter had not followed through on any of the aggression that seemed to be building in the man. “There’s a Darach in town. We have some names that have been put through normal channels but each of them seems to have no past beyond a birth certificate. We believe one of these names is the Darach. We just are short on time to address the issue. We need you to figure out who it is. We are assuming the person has changed their name in some way and has a grudge against the Alpha Pack.”

Chris tilted his head. “Not wanting to let them and or the Alpha Pack wear each other down first?”

Shaking his head, Stiles explained. “No, six, possibly seven people have been killed as far as we currently know. There could be more. If not now, there will be. The Darach is doing sacrifices seemingly to build power to face the Alpha Pack. Too many innocent people would be hurt should the Darach be allowed to continue.”

Nodding, Chris bounced a question back. “So, am I to take it you intend to face off against the Alpha Pack alone?!”

Ally sighed and likely held Lydia’s hand under the table.

Stiles shrugged. “Maybe something like that. We’re still in the research phase in a way... but we need you on this. We don’t know that we can trust you with anything more.”

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In a café toward the middle of town…

Derek sat at a table for two near the back per Jennifer’s request. He did not know why she wanted to be toward the back, but as he simply could not stop thinking about her, he acquiesced. He wore a dark Henley and jeans. With hiking boots on too, Derek had been thinking they could do the café and then maybe go on a walk through the preserve.

However, all those thoughts were put on the back burner of his mind as Jennifer walked into the café. She was in a light blue with a tiny floral-patterned dress. Unlike when they’d had dates during her school breaks, Jennifer’s dress was knee length. It showed off her beautiful legs.

Derek stood and pulled out her seat for her, completely enamored with her.

Jennifer sat in the chair he had pulled out for her and was pushed in some by Derek.

The wolf felt almost like a teen again, but had yet to pinpoint why? Was she like Paige somehow? He hoped not. He hoped she could take more than Paige could. However, quickly his attention was drawn back to Jennifer as she spoke: “Hi, Derek. I’m so happy you wanted us to have another date!”

Smiling to her, Derek mused briefly on her angelic voice. “You know, I just had to. I dream of you every night since I helped you with your car door. Honestly, the dreams are so vivid it’s almost like you are actually in the room with me with your soft touches and kindness—”

Jennifer laid her hand on his and Derek felt all the strain and struggles from today and the past months even drain away completely. He was just so happy she was here with him. When she touched him, everything got better, less complicated?

She leaned in toward him, speaking softly sweet to him. “I’ve miss you too. Maybe we could go somewhere private and be together. That sound good?”

Derek nodded, no words available or demanding speech.

Jennifer smiled, rubbing his hand gently. “Good. I just need you to do one thing first.”

Tilting his head slightly to the side, Derek furrowed his brow some.

Before he could say anything, Jennifer continued. “No worries. It’s just one, itsy, bitsy tiny little thing.”

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At the same time as others were eating brunch, Scott and Theo were out and about on their way into the lacrosse field toward the locker room entrance into the school.

Scott was so excited it seemed as they were heading into the school to turn another lacrosse player—Kenny Jones. The guy was a bench warmer who wanted to move up in school like Scott had.

Assuming it would make the team even better, stronger, Scott was half tempted to turn the whole team AND maybe Coach, though the latter was at times quite frightening when he wanted to be. Regardless, Scott was ready to have the very best pack in town.

Scott knew he could lead everyone far better than the monsters of and in Derek’s pack. With the lacrosse team by his side, Scott would turn Stiles too so he’d re- join lacrosse and be his best friend again, his brother.

Theo was okay in his tight blue jeans, tight t-shirts, tight jackets, and sneakers. All but the shoes hugging Theo’s tight robust muscles. Scott could stare at the teen for hours, but he stopped himself. Theo wasn’t who or what he wanted.

He wanted Kira. She was kind and beautiful. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Maybe he could turn her too? He really didn’t know if he should or not. Maybe it would be a good thought to turn Stiles first then ask him. In the end, Stiles was always the best with plans. Scott missed having him there to help even when he was being an annoying know it all.

Shaking himself out as he entered the locker room for boys, Scott felt twenty feet taller than everyone in his well-fitting jeans, red t-shirt, sneakers, and lacrosse letterman jacket.

Once more than a few feet in, Scott saw Kenny sitting on one of the benches inside near Kenny’s own locker. The teen was wearing black sweats, a blue t-shirt, a letterman jacket and red sneakers while looking a bit pale under the collar as it were.

With what he assumed looked like a happy go lucky smile, Scott walked right up to Kenny. “Ready to get off the bench in games?”

While paled possibly from nerves, Kenny stood with a weak attempt at a smirk. “Yep. Let’s get this over with. My parents think I’m at a friend’s house. My alibi is only good for so long.”

Nodding, Scott moved closer. He was taking off his jacket while Theo moved to the other side of Kenny from Scott’s approach.

Scott came closer, motioning for Kenny too to take off his letterman jacket.

As he did as motioned, Kenny stood a bit straighter, tossing his coat aside. “So, a quick bite and we’ll meet up later?”

Scott nodded. “Yeah. When we meet later, bring snacks. We will too. We’ll play some games or watch a movie or something.”

Kenny nodded and tensed.

Scott wasn’t worried about tenseness. It wouldn’t change much. He took hold of Kenny’s shoulders, pulling the teen’s collar bone right to Scott’s lips. It was so tempting to lick Kenny even if Scott wasn’t really at all sure why. As a result, Scott just shrugged and bit Kenny deep and hard. Although he heard a bone crack under his jaws and dropped teeth, Scott wasn’t worried since Kenny would just heal it. He didn’t even need to cry out though Kenny still did.

Scott set him down and the wiped his face on his arm. But rather than a smear of blood on his arm, Scott saw a bit of blood but mostly black gunk. He looked to Kenny in shock then to see the black fluid oozing out of where Scott had bitten Kenny.

Panicking, Scott tried to stop the black bleeding. It just wouldn’t stop. Scott took out his phone with one hand before throwing it to Theo. “Call Deaton! He’s number one on my quick dial! NOW!”

Theo, Scott assumed, obeyed him, but then he heard a pause.

Theo came around to look at Scott. “Flash your eyes again.”

Scott growled. “We don’t have time for this! We need Deaton’s help, NOW!”

Unintentionally, Scott did flash his eyes.

The phone he’d been given, Theo slipped into his pocket before he suddenly and somehow without any emotion showing on his face, snapped Kenny’s neck in one quick motion.

Scott roared. “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

He then slammed Theo into the lockers not even noticing that anything was different. He was just so angry. He didn’t stop with just throwing Theo around, but Scott started taking out his anger on the lockers, the shower curtains, anything really—all while growling out through his dropped teeth, “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Theo got to his feet and hit Scott back before grabbing the teen’s face to get his attention. “It was mercy kill. Your eyes don’t flash red anymore. They’re flashing yellow. You’ve lost your Alpha spark. That’s why the black. He was going to die regardless. What I did just saved him some pain.”

Scott felt tears start to run down his face as he caught his breath from having been destroying the locker room and beating the fuck out of Theo in so short a time. However, considering how many times he knew he hit Theo, the teen didn’t seem at his worst despite the blood from his busted lip and a hit to the side of his head.

Feeling so heavy and lost and everything just zeroed in on Theo, on those lips that hid sharp and biting words thrown out in defense of Scott’s ambitions and desires.

Desire… desires.

Still with tears in his eyes, Scott’s entire experience was Theo in that moment while seeing nor hearing anything else around himself. Unable to resist what he took to be offered comfort, Scott leaned forward simultaneously using an arm or both to pull his beta closer to him. In a brief split of a second, Scott broke the shrinking distance between them and kissed Theo forcefully, Scott forcing his tongue into his beta’s mouth in a Columbus discovering America level of claim.

What ended the moment was not how Theo was squirming so much as Scott kissed him as a gasp— one gasp.

Scott let Theo go and turned to find Kira in her lacrosse jersey and jeans with a hand over her mouth, staring at him. Before he could say or do anything, Kira ran off. Turning to tell Theo he’d be back, Scott saw that Theo had fled too!

What was happening? He would explain things to Kira, and she was too sweet to turn him away after he explained, but with Theo? Did he have bad breath or something? He breathed into his hand then went to smell it.

---------------------------------------------------------

Café downtown…

Jennifer had just mentioned that she wanted him to bring her Stiles. It seemed weird, but what could Derek say? It really didn’t seem that weird. Anything for love, right?

As he stood to leave and find himself Stiles to give to Jennifer as a gift, Kira burst into the café looking like she had the hounds of hell chasing after her. Not two full minutes after she had burst in and sat in a seat near the back as though to hide did Scott burst in.

Perking a curious brow, Derek moved closer to Kira as it was only an eventuality that Scott found her if she was indeed who he was looking for. While Derek did not actively direct attention to Kira, he did work his way closer. Once to her, he asked quietly, “Are you running from Scot McCall?”

Kira whispered back somehow sweetly though she did seem alarmed. “Yes, please don’t show him I’m here. He’s been chasing my since the high school.”

Derek furrowed his brows further. That was not okay. Was Scott showing EVERYONE that he was supernatural? Hell, was the teen using the supernatural to stalk Kira now that he and Allison were truly over?

He’d heard the rumors from Erica and Boyd about what kinds of things the idiot had been doing. Derek was surprised Argent didn’t just kill the teen. Not that Derek would encourage that, but Chris was an Argent after all.

As Derek predicted, Scott did eventually find her, but before the trouble of an idiot could get to Kira, Derek stepped between them. “I think she would rather you leave her alone.”

Derek could tell by Kira’s tense that she knew something more than normal was happening even if she may or may not have words for it just yet. He made a mental note to make Stiles explain it. The teen was good for at least that much. Well, for everyone but Scott anyways.

Scott tried to get around Derek, but Derek refused to budge all while carefully not flashing his eyes. While not the genius manipulator his uncle Peter was, Derek did get that showing the Alpha- spark free teen his own Alpha eyes was not going to help right now.

Instead, Derek opted for another way. “Kira? Do you wish to see and or speak to Scott right now?”

“No. Not after what he did.”

Despite Derek blocking Scott from even seeing Kira, the young wolf tried no less. “Come on Kira, it was one kiss. It will never happen again! It was a one-time thing!”

Derek thought for a moment he could feel his uncle somewhere in the world rolling his eyes at Scott. Not bothering to give an inch, Derek grinned outright when he heard Kira’s response.

The young girl said, dripping with hurt and a sense of betrayal even the densest of dense could hear, “yay…while destroying the locker room you just tripped into Theo’s lips.”

Apparently, Scott was denser as he continued on. “I didn’t do that.. I… someone else did it. I didn’t see who though.”

Again, Derek felt a shiver down his spine that was like he forgot something, but Derek just chalked it up to his Uncle Peter somewhere having an epic eye roll and scoff at what a fool Scott was making of himself.

Scott tried for another fifteen minutes, getting nowhere before he said, “You know what? He’s a better kisser than you anyways!!!”

The teen wolf then stormed out, spilling his angry, rageful scent every which way.

Derek knew he should go after the young wolf to protect others, but when he turned to say as much to Kira, he saw the tears running down her face from her eyes and changed his plans. “Would you like a walk home, Kira?”

She snuffled some and then wiped her face off with her lacrosse jersey sleeve before nodding. “Please? I never knew he was like that. Even the person, Theo, that he was kissing looked terrified. How could Scott not get it?”

Derek wanted to say all the right words but knew none of them, so he started with just a shrug. “Some people…”

It took a moment to get his thoughts together, but Kira appeared to be patient in her giving him time to find his words.

He finally continued as best he could: “Some people— they just want and want. It’s… it’s not about you. It’s all about them, what they want, what they think you can do for and or give them.”

Those words rang hollow to him, but Derek was trying his best to comfort without picking too much at his own inner wounds. “Scott, he’s young, and maybe one day he will be….”

Trying not to wretch at his next word, Derek forced it, “different.”

Kira smiled sweetly at him. “You don’t sound too convinced in Scott’s case.”

Derek couldn’t fight her innocent and somehow so open smile. “I do believe he will change with time. I’m just not sure it will be a change for the better.”

Kira giggled for a moment at her own relief in Derek’s efforts to be kind to Scott it seemed before the young girl said quietly, “Do you know what happened? I mean, do you know how he was able to dent and rip up a good chunk of the locker room between just him and Theo?”

Derek sighed. “That… that would be a VERY long story to tell. Or, you know, you can just never know and never be in danger for knowing.”

He had to give her the offer to walk away from this. Normally, this wouldn’t be how he did this, but Derek felt a bit of kinship with the girl in so much as how Scott with her brushed a bit at him and Kate. He refused to explore it deeper than that, but regardless, he still sympathized with her, and he wanted her to have the choice of a normal life, or at least as normal a life as she could have living in a place like Beacon Hills.

Kira cleared her throat, seemingly having mustered up strength of some kind. “I want you to tell me the story no matter how long it is.”

Derek nodded. “Okay. How about this, you sleep on it. Knowing this truth? It shouldn’t be taken lightly. It will put your life and the lives of all those you care about in danger to know this story.”

----------------------------------------------------

Back at Stilinski house a few hours later…

Stiles groaned as he stretched out with Lydia, Ally, and all the wolves of his pack sans Duke.

The girls had a yoga DVD they had convinced everyone that Stiles needed to do, that it would help.

Stiles’ deal with this was that he would commit to doing ten minutes, but everyone who could HAD to do it with him.

It was actually a funny sight. Stiles was in sweatpants and a Storm graphic t-shirt— all of it baggy on his body while the shirt was at least tucked in some to the sweats to neither expose Stiles’ body nor have the clothes fall off.

Allison was wearing her pjs from earlier and looked like a swan doing ballet. She bent and splayed as though this were as natural for her as shooting her bow or walking upright. It was so elegant especially with her loose hair.

Lydia was much the same, having changed to medium blue leggings, no shoes, and a light tan t- shirt and he hair loose.

Peter wore just a pair of Stiles’ black sweats and moved and bent in every which way as though he were both elegantly doing the moves but also as though he were posing for some kind of magazine cover.

Ethan and Aiden were both grumbling, but they were doing okay for only half trying and not being quite as practiced at elegant movement as some of the others. Ethan wore just a pair of his own tan sweats without shoes. Aiden wore his own medium blue sweatpants. Each seemed to be doing this activity due to literally having nothing better that they were allowed to do on the weekend while still lying low.

Erica was in her own black leggings and moving along happily with the DVD yoga instructor. While not as elegant as some of the others, Erica was having fun with the video and watching, seeing the twins do the video too so uninterested. Apparently, their misery was funny to the wolf girl.

Stiles was just happy that Erica had something to distract herself with away from Derek having taken Adrian and Boyd away. It wasn’t forever, particularly in the case of Boyd, but it didn’t change the frustration and hurt involved in the whole affair. Stiles himself was ready to slap some sense into Derek.

Cora seemed much more like the Ethan and Aiden into this activity; however, unlike them, she was better at it. She was closer to Erica’s level of ability without the fun. Cora in black jeggings she got from Allison and a too-big tank top from Stiles’ Dad’s closet did seem more elegant in some ways than Erica, but a lot of that likely came form the Hale girl being more hyper focused on the instructor and the instructor’s instructions rather than Erica who was half watching the instructor and half watching Ethan and Aiden.

Stiles was working to keep his balance in the Warrior II pose they were in when the kitchen timer went off.

He would’ve fallen on his ass, but when Stiles lost his balance, Peter was right there to catch him. Stiles even breathed a sigh of relief at being caught and at his minimum required yoga being done.

The others whined and groaned when Stiles got stood back up and went to deal with the kitchen timer showing no intent to rejoin the group.

Stiles motioned for them to go on, assuming if they didn’t want to, then they too would stop. Regardless, his mind was elsewhere. He grabbed a glass from the kitchen cabinets and filled it with water on his way to Deucalion who was sitting at the dinning room table.

Stiles gave the old wolf the glass of water. He then went and grabbed another glass from the kitchen cabinets and got his cup also filled with water and took it with him to sit across form Duke at the table.

“Deucalion, what are you plans for after you heal up?”

The Demon Wolf looked to Stiles and gave him a critical scan from his flashed red as well as less than blind when red eyes. “Not sure.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Understatement of the year. Seriously? Is it you don’t know if you have plans or you don’t know if you can tell me you have plans or what they are?”

Duke chuffed, returning his eyes to their blind milky white. “Little of category A and a little of category B, I suppose.”

Stiles sighed. He was too tired for this. He’d been eating on and off all day and even slept in from last night’s surprisingly restful sleep, but Stiles was still sore and low on reserves. He was really tempted to force the dark kitsune, with Peter’s help and or permission, to reveal if it knew Stiles would be broken down this much. In the end though, Stiles could not solidly say that he had not been told or even if that would have prevented a single one of his actions.

Sometimes, as Stiles knew all too well, you had to make sacrifices for others. In this case, it had been for the Hales to regain their Alpha spark and to save Scott’s possible future victims. In the end, he didn’t know for sure how dangerous Scott was without an Alpha spark and none of the Hales had been given the Alpha spark that was their right. Stiles himself had gotten it. Talk about god laughing at plans made. In this instance, it seemed so cruel. Then again, when was it not?

Refusing to reflect on past pains, abuses, or traumas, Stiles instead set his hand on top of Deucalion’s in an attempt at a good faith offer. “If you ever, uh, need to talk about what happened? What Gerard did… I’m here. Several other members and I of my pack have dealt with Gerard in one violent way or another.”

Duke withdrew his hand from the teen’s, something akin to a snarl on his face. “You know nothing!”

The outburst got everyone’s attention, but Stiles waved them off to continue what they had been doing. Aiden stared Stiles down over it, but Stiles flashed his Alpha red eyes rimmed in a purple circle of his magics and the other teen Alpha did look away and get back to what he had been doing.

Stiles didn’t even flinch at Duke’s outburst over Gerard. Instead, the teen just shrugged. “We all have our traumas. They’re not for comparing. No one understands your pain or even their own fully. It’s just something… something that happened to us all in our own experiences.”

Unable to stop it, while speaking, Stiles had a pause of his eyes going a bit dead of expression of emotions when he for just a moment thought back to his traumas, his past tortures and pains —most never said aloud to or by anyone. But he pulled back from such thoughts as quickly as he could to continue.

However, the dead eyed moment seemed to cause Duke to relax some. Perhaps he saw something of the pain in Stiles that he could hold to? Could anchor to in some way? Stiles shrugged, not up for investigations like that.

Duke seemed to calm further if only a bit before moving his hands to his lap and out of sight. “How do you do it? You’re just human, but you just keep going, keep living even as a weak and lesser creature than those you run with? How can you bare it at all?”

Notes:

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 24: Second Shoe Drops

Summary:

Surprise! & memories.

Notes:

Thank you for sticking with this story. Trigger warnings are in the end note.

16 hours later…

Stiles licked and smacked his too dry lips together, but he had dry mouth too, so it did him no good. His mind was foggy. Stiles went to get up, but he found that he couldn’t. Looking around himself, Stiles realized he was tied down to a chair. As a result, Stiles went from blurrily drowsy to something close to awake. However, he wasn’t as close to startled awake as he should be.

Groaning at himself, Stiles began taking in as much of the information around him as he could. His mind was not as fast as it normally ran. Neither was his heart. Everything was slowed. Stiles was able to put together that he must be drugged. By what? He had no clue. That was a better question for Peter or someone else of with that kind of knowledge. Maybe Argent? No, Chris? No… Chris Argent? No…

From there, Stiles forced his mind away from that line of thought and took stock of his body beyond his seemingly slow-motion responses. He wiggled his toes, his fingers. He wiggled his legs as best he could— seemed they were tied to what he was on too, but he was still able to come to a secure ‘yes’ on if they are still attached or not.

He couldn’t help but note how his fingers felt more out-of-body numb than his toes. He wiggled a finger at a time. Thumb, ring finger, pinky? Soon, he found himself singing while wiggling each finger a few times then the next. “The first little piggy… went to the market…”

He tried to do the same for his arms, but he found that not only were his arms tied up, but they were tied up behind his back in what felt like a BDSM Dragonfly arm tie (sue him for having explored a bit, but he did learn interesting things about BDSM). However, the ties were too tight. He could feel his arms if not move them. His arms were also bound to the chair Stiles was on through ropes wrapped around his chest and chair including his already bound arms. It struck Stiles as overkill to say the least.

Kill, kill… overkill. Everything involving hunters seemed like overkill. Overkill.

Next, Stiles took as deep a breath as he could. It was somewhat limited, but he could still breath if not too deeply. He was worried about why that may be the case, but he pushed those thoughts aside. They couldn’t help him just yet. He then tried to wiggle or at all affect the chair he was on, but really couldn’t.

He was bound up to the point that all he could really move beyond a wiggle (for only some parts of himself) was his neck and head. That seemed odd with how bound the rest of him was. Again, not dwelling on that just yet, Stiles forced himself to move on and continue gathering information.

Stiles looked around himself, slowly working out from his own bound body as best he could. The floors were linoleum that ran down to a drain. It was an ugly speckled orange squares with brown lining despite them not actually being the tiles he assumed they were meant to imitate. He sniffed at the air, and he found bleach hitting his nose.

He growled quietly at himself for not checking for scents sooner, but he tried to focus on what information he could get rather than dwell on how slow and out of order his mind was comparative to his normal non-linear but fast thoughts.

He slowly increased his range out from himself mostly finding just the ugly linoleum beyond a little bit of what Stile assumed was rat droppings until he got to what of the walls he could see. Therein was the source possibly of the bleach smell as the wall were clearly recently washed with mixed success to get off what looked to Stiles like blood and or spaghetti sauce.

Maybe crushed skull spaghetti? It was hard not to gag at that thought with its sudden vivid image in his mind.

Unable to enjoy his kind of attempt at a joke or what his imagination conjured up, Stiles saw that the door was lockable on his side of the old too-beaten-down and worn door; however, he didn’t trust his assessment as who would use so weak a door for abduction?

Stiles was more than ready to not be here. He was still tired from the Alpha Sparks ritual and would rather be just about anywhere else. However, he was here. No amount of wishing otherwise would get him out of this.

Having seen all he could reasonably see, Stiles decided to think back to his last memory that wasn’t blurry. He could then work forward, right?

His last truly solid memory was of talking to Duke while the others to some degree or another were still doing yoga with the DVD instructor. Duke had asked how Stiles did it, ran with wolves even as a weak human:

Stiles had responded with something like, “Because I love them, and love to me means family. Family protects each other no matter the cost.”

Duke had scoffed. “You are in love with them. How juvenile…”

Having been too tired to put up with anyone’s bs, Stiles had rolled his eyes. “Love them, not in love with them. It is possible to love others without it being romantic.”

Deucalion growled. “I know that, but it isn’t real regardless. The moment they don’t need you, you’ll be thrown to the side and discarded.”

Having given a frustrated sigh, Stiles had said, if he remembered right, “I pity how you see things. We all will come for each other. O-hana means family. And family means no one left behind.”

Having tilted his head, Duke asked, “Is that from a movie or something?”

Stiles had shrugged. “Maybe it’s from Lilo and Stitch, but it is no less true. Part of being in a family is someone missing you when you’re gone and noticing that you’ve disappeared and if you are not okay. It’s part of it. I’m so sorry that you have clearly never had that.”

Stiles came out of his efforts to remember as he heard the door to where he was being unlocked. Stiles was concerned about who could possibly have him now. He was honestly hoping it was the Darach as he would have a real chance against her if he could get his bindings off.

Would he survive it? Maybe? It was an in-the-air scenario, but Stiles still liked those odds better than some of the other options. Then again, this could be a normal abduction by human assholes for all he knew and even that would be an acceptable option.

However, when the door to Stiles was opened, he was less than surprised that it was Gerard who came in dragging an empty chair that he placed in front of Stiles. Gerard even closed and locked the door from the inside before returning to the chair he brought and sitting in it. “Hmmm…it would seem, Stilinski, that we have quite a bit to discuss. Like how you are going to be giving me the Nogitsune within you.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped. This was bad but also meant that Stiles had to keep to himself what he really was as well as where the actual Nogitsune was. It seemed that this was going to be a race against the clock of what would happen first: his pack coming for him or him being killed by this sick bastard.

The battles that count aren’t the ones for gold medals. The struggles within yourself–the invisible battles inside all of us–that’s where it’s at. - Jesse Owens

Stiles could not help but remember that quote from his English class, to grab onto it as hard as he could in a white, boney-knuckled grip. He had to survive this for as long as he could. If they killed him, which would suck, it would mean that Gerard would hunt the others. Also, Stiles felt like he wasn’t the only one here. He couldn’t be, right? Weren’t they all in groups?

Suddenly, all of Stiles’ thoughts hiccupped with a hard hit to the side of his head with Gerard’s gloved fist.

The sadistic bastard laughed. “Well, at least we knew for sure you aren’t a wolf due to the Wolf’s Bane and do not have notable sensitivity or poisoning by foxglove. I guess your Nogitsune is an old one. Only the oldest ones can take any foxglove let alone how much I just slapped onto you.”

The bastard didn’t notice or maybe, likely didn’t care one smudge about Stiles’ head swimming still with impact while trying to think fast enough to put Gerard off guard, something to shock the old excuse for a human man. The hypocrite had to have some kryptonite of one sort or other. “What would Allison say? Huh? Aren’t you still needing a new little Kate to trick, misguide into you bullshit hate?”

Gerard laughed menacingly in such a way that seemed to signal something worse incoming. “Oh, demon fox. I’ve given up on her being Kate. Instead, I’m gonna make a new Kate with Allison.”

Stiles’ eyes got huge. The man couldn’t mean what Stiles thought he did. Unable to stop his mouth, Stiles burst out. “But she’s your granddaughter!”

With a sick grin, Gerard shrugged. “We do it every few generations at least. One more bout of inbreeding won’t hurt. Who knows, maybe Allison’s body will produce a better Argent heir that Kate ever was.”

Unable to stop his mouth further, Stiles’ shock came out chunky as he threw up all over himself and then continued with dry heaves. This was not something Stiles had expected, not in a million insanities. Once done throwing up, Stiles let his head hang limply forward. What could he do? What could he say? He feared he may come to mourn Allison’s possible losses far sooner and in more perverse ways than Stiles could have ever imagined. The skull spaghetti on the wall was looking better now.

Hell, honestly, Stiles had always suspected Gerard would blackmail Ally onto his side through threatening Chris. Thankfully, the old bastard probably had no clue about Lydia. He doubted Chris would’ve shared it at the very least, let alone with Gerard.

Stiles swallowed thickly through the foul tastes of pizza and Adderall and too much sugar blended with his stomach acids. Then a HARD kick to the chest. All he could do was bite his lip hard to keep inside the noise his body would normally have made in response to an impact like that. He really was in for hell of one kind or another.

Forcing himself to look up, Stiles heard metal scrapping on metal in front of him only through looking up to see chains being thrown up and dangled to set up what Stiles both feared and expected to be like the way the packs had found Deucalion. One of the bigger questions in response within Stiles’ mind was how far Gerard would push the human body that was Stiles while searching for a fox he thought was hidden inside like the toy in a Kinder egg.

Barely suppressing the shiver that threatened to show Gerard just how scared Stiles was and how well this effort toward intimidation was working, Stiles focused on keeping his sounds to himself.

With a slow deep inhale and an equal length and depth exhale, Stiles felt his mind ripped into the past while keeping his eyes open if not attentive. It was time to pull from deep as he kept feeling himself being forced deeper and deeper into his past traumas. He wished it would lead to finding the answers to survival from the past and give them new life but that was never how the flashbacks went.

While some parts of what had happened to him in the past surfaced in his dreams through one form or another, Stiles tried to play keep away from them during his waking hours while fighting sleep too for the same impossible end goal of truly escaping himself, his body, and his memories.

First stop on the horror train of his mind was that which first started him on his efforts to forget, to change the past, memories toward something more about how much he loved his mom and not on how badly she hurt him over time.

Before going into the hospital, though it did get a lot worse once she was in there with him all the time at the end, his Mom was coming to believe that Stiles was trying to kill her. At first, she just thought he was poisoning her. She would throw the food and dishes of food he brought her at him sometimes. Once or twice she even broke the plates to throw the sharp pieces at him.

Then later she would remember who he was: her son who loved her and would finally let him bandage her cuts. He never told her how he got the cuts—he didn’t have the heart to essentially rub her face into how not okay things were and even how things were not really going to get better. Better meant death, and that was a gamble because no one really knew how that worked or if it was any place good and worth going to.

Stiles also never told his father what was going on. Closer to when the hospital happened, her fits of incoherence, not remembering, and violent determination that Stiles was trying to kill her became too overt to fully hide. Stiles didn’t lie about her getting worse. He loved his father, but he didn’t feel like they had the privilege of denial even though it did turn out his father held onto it even after she was dead.

Noah did become aware of her thinking Stiles was trying to kill her, but he still didn’t realize that it was more than screaming and locking herself into places to hide.

Not having it in him for asking his Mom for help nor expecting his Dad to be able to cope with it, Stiles just bandaged himself from when she came at him with a knife… time after time. She never got a good stab in, but she’d get painfully deep grazing slices. Never deep enough to require stitches, but the wounds did scar on his flesh and in his mind.

Part of how he put up with the pain, the torture of his Mother’s violent fear of him growingly often and how terrified for her he was, Stiles had focused on his good memories of his Mom. His favorite then was remembering when they had planted a small garden outside that she never lived to harvest, but that was so fun to plant with her. He missed the way she popped the tip of his young nose with the tip of her garden glove covered finger, which left a dirt smudge on his nose. He giggled so hard he almost peed himself at the time.

Stiles, too, remembered how she taught him a plant at the time, some garden tips and tricks that could be found on no seed packet ever made, according to her. Like how yes, they were planting tomatoes, but they also put a ring ten inches out of alternating plants of garlic, green onions, chives, and basil plant species. His mom explained how the garlic and green onions would help protect the tomatoes while the chives and basil would make the tender Tomato fruit richer in taste once ripe. The tomatoes also protected the other plants. Plus, scientifically, micro-biologically, the different types of plants planted close to one another also helped to create, maintain, and expand the nutrient density of the soil itself with each plant giving and taking different elements.

His mother must have loved the garden. Outside in the dirt, her eyes practically glittered with mirth. He missed her. He fought to hold that memory in stasis. While yes, the knowledge was helpful in a way, the memory of her okay and even happy was priceless. Over the years remembering the good times got harder and harder with every good, joyful memory of the woman. His mom that he loved and lost was book-ended every good moment. Every slap across the face or attempt to kill Stiles before he could kill her was so close, he could still taste it like licking copper or having a mouth full of blood.

Nonetheless, Stiles gripped the good ones, the good memories tight even if he had to remember the more numerous bad memories too. He’d take having to remember the times his mom destroyed him with her screaming at him to have those good moments, even the little ones.

Stiles could feel no less as he returned to fully paying attention with no promise of how long he would spend attentive rather than trying desperately to bury himself in his own mind, so that he could last as long as possible.

Looking around himself, he realized he was being hooked to the chains that were moments from being hoisted up. His arms were still tied in the dragonfly BDSM rigging, up they must’ve been untied and re-tied as his arms were Dragonfly tied but above his head now. His wrists were bound together with rope while wrapped together with ropes and chains to likely be dangled like a fish on a spike.

Stiles groaned: he couldn’t help it as the stretch involved in his being strung up pulled on his already sore and magic-bruised muscles.

Gerard chuckled in response before securing the final chain line. Things were surprisingly loose compared to how Stiles had seen things to be with Duke. However, that moment was too brief to fill a full thought as Gerard then dragged a dagger along Stiles ribcage so sharp that he bled before the sensation of pain hit.

Stiles felt his heart immediately start racing as his vision blurred a moment before he saw his mom holding the dagger as he was cut again and again.

Notes:

Trigger warnings for graphic violence, past child abuse, past and future incest, past and future sexual assault, PTSD.

Thank you for reading <3

Chapter 25: Fire

Summary:

Deaton. Gathering. Omega.

Notes:

Thank you for still being along for the ride!

Trigger warnings in end note.

5 hours before…

Lydia had convinced Stiles to take a break from spell work and researching to come to the mall. There was a new chocolate café and coffee shop in the mall and Lydia wanted to go. Allison was her partner for safety, but Stiles’ partner had been Boyd. However, with Derek having taken off, they were going out as a threesome. Peter had been willing to come, but Stiles figured Peter would be better able to keep Cora for killing and torturing the members of the Alpha pack. No one wanted shredded pack connections if they could help it.

As a result, Stiles was standing outside of the café, looking at the different chocolate flavors and shapes on display like their raspberry dark chocolate tear drop chocolates or their strange chocolate chip sporting golden peeps-style marshmallow chicks. The teen seemed somewhat mesmerized in a sugared haze.

Lydia patted him on the back. “We can get some. It’s not like anyone is gonna tell you no.”

Stiles startled out a laugh before a quick recovery. “Naw, that’s not the issue. Just getting an idea of what I want with my drink.”

Lydia laughed, hooking one of her arms through Allison’s arm and he other through Stiles’ arm and pulling them along with her as she entered the café with a pleasant grin that turned frown quite quickly.

Stiles saw the problem only seconds before Allison: Scott McCall.

Lydia promptly turned them out to try and get away to seeing another shop before coming back to enjoy the sweet treats. No reason to suffer a fool if you did not have to.

Sadly, the turn was not fast enough.

They all heard Scott as he called out. “Hey! Wait!”

Lydia groaned, letting Stiles loose as they all turned around, assuming he was the one Scott wanted.

However, as they turned around, Scott went for Allison. “Hey, uh, could we talk?”

Allison appeared to sigh and resign herself to whatever conversation was to come.

Lydia sighed too, releasing Ally from her loose hold. “Need us to stay, Ally?”

Scott flinched at the nickname for Allison.

Allison kept her expression blank. “No, I think I’ve got this.”

Lydia nodded, hooking Stiles’ arm. “Let’s go.”

Stiles perked a brow, hoping what Scott wanted was benign. There was no rush to confront his once brother, particularly violently. However, if needed, Stiles would cut down his ex-friend to save and or protect his pack, his family.

Rapidly though, Stiles realized where Lydia was leading the two of them—the ladies’ bathroom.

Stiles stopped cooperating, catching her back. “Wait, no. I am so not going there.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Get over it. I want to use the restroom and we’re stuck together, right?”

Stiles groaned while running his hand down his face. He then looked up. Addressing the ceiling, Stiles groaned out “Really?”

Lydia shrugged. “I mean, if you think Gerard wouldn’t do that…”

Stiles growled lightly. “We both know he is not above it. Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Despite his rapidly bright red cheeks at being in the ladies’ bathroom in the mall, Lydia tugged Stiles with her into the ladies’ bathroom. Thankfully it was a single stall for mothers with small children or so Stiles kind of assumed. That or they were having other issues he was okay with not knowing about right this second even though he knew he may be googling it later to prevent sleep and a swage a rapid-fire level of lack of focus.

He stood in the corner of the single person bathroom, facing a corner so Lydia could go pee in semi-privacy.

Once she was done and her hands washed, Lydia re-applied some lip gloss before smiling. “Okay. It’s been long enough. Let’s go interrupt whatever it is Scott felt the need to share with Allison.”

Stiles couldn’t help but grin. He took Lydia’s hand as they moved to leave the restroom together. However, as they had opened the bathroom door, two different tall men shoved them inside while stabbing each with a syringe of something clear.

-----------------------------

Moving to the side of the walkway near the ladies’ bathroom where Lydia had dragged Stiles off to, Allison and Scott stood together but as an at least four-foot distance from each other at all times. Allison did not want to be within arms’ reach of the once true alpha. It was just not a safe move.

Scott was flashing her what she already knew was one of his best puppy smiles. “You look great. I mean, you are really beautiful—always.”

Allison nodded hesitantly. “Is that what you were wanting to tell me? I mean, if so, thanks, but I would then like to meet back up with my friends.”

“No,” Scott said, trying to step closer but stopping when it became clear that Allison would move back every time he moved forward. “I just, I wanted to talk to you about us. I mean you are beautiful so I couldn’t help but to say it. But yeah, no. uh, I know about your Dad… you know. Him not wanting us together. I think we could still make it work.”

Allison sighed. “No. Leave my Dad out of this. It has nothing to do with him. If it did, you’d be dead.”

Scott blanched at that. “What do you mean? I know you want to be together but he’s—”

Allison interrupted him. “No. I do not want to be with you. I’m happy in my relationship and feel no need to break up with her or be with you AT ALL.”

Tilting his head faintly, Scott opened his mouth to speak, but was hit HARD with a human fist that knocked him him back a few steps in surprise.

Then someone else stabbed Allison with a syringe.

Then Gerard was there, steering Scott away some. “Come now. Why don’t you come too?”

Catching on quickly, Scott ripped free of the old human hunter just in time to not be hit with a syringe fully. The needle and a little something got on him but not in him and he fled for his life, presumably as Allison lost consciousness to the sound of the bathroom door opening.

-----------------------------
Ten minutes later…

Scott burst into the back room of Deaton’s vet clinic for help. He needed guidance on what to do and who further to tell. He needed help to get the others back from Gerard as soon as possible; however, Scott was frozen stock still a step of so into the back room when he finally caught a look around.

 

While there was graffiti spray painted all over the room on numerous surfaces, the pinnacle of attention focused on Theo. He was in the middle of the room kicking what looked to be Deaton’s dead body. The smell of death was suffocating.

Then Theo look to see Scott was who burst into the room. Theo smirked and lit a match. He dropped it down onto Deaton’s body.

Not waiting to see more, Scott lunged across the room claws first at Theo.

Theo smirked and ran the short distance toward Scott, but dodged left at the last second while grabbing Scott’s shoulders and forcing the wolf to double over, slamming the once-Alpha head first into the wall.

Scott at the last second tried ot brace for impact but didn’t manage it. He then tried to get back up right and stagger back.

However, Theo clawed deep slashes down Scott’s back while Deaton’s body was burning. Theo also backed up a step to bounce back forward kicking Scott hard on the back to force Scott to faceplant into the wall.

Scott faceplanted then faked right before rolling left just as Theo slammed his fist into the wall where Scott faked going. Scott to the chance to punch Theo in the face, breaking the teen’s nose.

Theo slashed at Scott’s face then punched the once-Alpha hard enough to break his nose.

Scott barely moved enough to take the punch ot his cheek rather than his nose. At the same time, he kicked out to knock Theo back.

Theo landed on the ground before quickly scrambling to his feet.

Seeing the writing on the wall, Scott wasted no time to keep fighting but rather ran for dear life out of the building and just kept running and running, not daring to look back though he could smell the building going up in flames behind him.

-----------------------------

The Stilinski house…

Peter felt it: a cry or sorts, but beyond sound. It took his breath. He had to grab out for the wall to hold him up as the whole of him felt something he wasn’t sure he would ever have words for no matter how long he tried.

It was so hard not to clutch at his heart. He knew that was not where the cry came from, but his instinct was to grab at his heart no less. With that and how deep to his bones, his bonds it had come, Peter knew it was Stiles. It had to be.

Without too much movement just yet, Peter growled out orders no less. “Everyone. HERE. NOW.”

He didn’t look up or really to anything, simply assumed all here that could hear him would be here in seconds. He felt along his bonds, investigating what he could of what had happened. He had the advantage of the kitsune within him that reached out magically to feel more than a standard pack bond could.

No one else spoke or seemed to actively grab at his attention to distract him from his pursuit. It was an after thought that Deuc had been near to deal with any of that should it come.

Peter took deeper and deeper breathes, opening every inch of himself to the Nogitsune, open the deepest aspects of himself that he hid even from himself. He needed the deepest depths of his memories, even his old ripped away pack bonds and the memories tied therein. He needed it all, even bits and fragments still damaged from the fire and his rebirth. Every little scrap was needed more than ever.

The kitsune burned through him like a new, yet old flame of ozone and a darkness beyond even his deepest insanity. It was a white-hot flame curling within him like an unquenchable smoke fuming through his literal cellular make up.

Absently, he felt the ground impact his knees, but he couldn’t spare the attention as he felt himself burning inside and out, his skin pushing up agitated boils while his eyeballs were liquified. Losing muscle strength, unable to catch himself on the ground, catch his burned away air in the lungs he felt shriveled within him like burned dried fruit in an ashen, hardened walnut shell of his overcooked corpse.

His tears little but steam in his agony, Peter also felt his healing going into overdrive beyond its nature abilities as the kitsune within fused in thought and body, in soul and consciousness. Even as his body was piecing itself back together, his mind and bound kitsune magic reached deeper within and without to grasp onto his Alpha, to feel a sense memory of sorts: a surprise. Sharpness. Fight. Lydia gasps. Allison kicks out. Then blackness.

With his whole body shaking, Peter used his still crispy hands to push against the carpeted livingroom floor to support lifting his chest in a fluid movement toward lifting his head. Not sparing a single thought to the members of the pack present in general or what he had experienced outside of Stiles, Peter bore his eyes into Deucalion who was staring at him in fear and wonder. “Stiles was taken.”

-----------------------------

15 minutes later…

Peter could not stop growling. He was pacing hostilely around the Stilinski back yard. He wasn’t even wearing cloths because he burnt them off. Outside was the most scent neutral place, so not too much of himself or anyone else close by for Peter to be losing his shit on. He couldn’t believe that he had allowed Stiles to be taken! He was so weak, a waste. He was letting his family be destroyed all over again!

The kitsune flowed through his veins—a part of him and not. Their bond was surreal—akin to a mating bond yet not quite that either. Peter was fused to the demon fox spirit yet as also possessed. It was a strange duality he’d have to explore later.

Duke was sitting out on the back porch seemingly considered the safest partner right now.

Peter was fighting as best he could to not howl into the night. It was bad enough that whatever was coming when Noah got home to find out Stiles was gone. But when they got Derek over here? Peter knew he may kill his nephew even though he did not want to kill his family.

He was fraying at the edges again and again even with the kitsune’s help as the bonding fire and his Alpha spark burned together within him still. While the fire outside him had not been healed to flesh, his insides both literally and metaphorically still were an endless pyre.

He’d lost his Alpha AGAIN. He lost someone he cared about AGAIN. Worst of all? Stiles was Peter’s anchor, his something solid to hold to. Next to that was within the last fifteen of further searching, further refining what he’d felt, what he’d found the part of the Argent’s flames scare burned familiar, showing him the imprints of his older scars and who made them in a way the fox’s magic allowed him to tangibly feel.

Duke just kept watching Peter, almost like he saw something Peter hadn’t seen yet or that maybe wasn’t sure was there. Hard to say.

More than anything, Peter wanted to hurt the Argents. He had to destroy them! He didn’t have enough vengeance. There were still living Argents, and he had to DESTROY THEM! HE had to STOP THEM! STOP their TAKE, TAKE, TAKE!

Not noticing that his claws had dropped, the dark kitsune shoved itself toward the surface as Peter and his wolf were panicking in unbridled rage and going toward destroying everything he came across even as he clawed absently at his own chest, ripping him open anew where flames had burned too many times.

Now in control, the dark kitsune rolled Peter’s shoulders and released the hand full of his Peter’s flesh before turning to Deucalion. “Ready to go to work?”

Duke gave a dark and foreboding feral grin of his own in answer.

The Nogitsune lifted the older alpha with his and Peter’s arms and took them both inside.

The moment he was inside, everyone already there and those who had arrived while Peter and Deuc were outside— Erica, Boyd, Ethan, Aiden, Mel, and Cora all stared in shock at his open chest as he brought Deuc fully into the livingroom. Not everyone in the pack, and definitely no one outside of it, knew that the dark kitsune was confirmed to be around, let alone inside Peter. More concerning though was the violent edge to Cora’s expression as she walked straight to Peter’s body, getting in his face.

She demanded in a firm tone that left no room for give or refusal, “Give me my uncle back.”

The Nogisune tilted its head in open defiance. “No. If I do, I will greatly enjoy the consequence, but no one else will.”

Boyd stood then, asking. “And why is that?”

The Nogitsune grinned with both all of Peter’s teeth and all of its ghostly own. “Stiles is Peter’s anchor. And look at what Peter’s done so far just to himself… Do you want that loose right now?”

Before anyone else could ask for more or really demand anything from the kitsune, Peter’s body set Duke down on the couch before turning to face everyone again. “Okay, have you called the Sheriff?”

Erica fell in line quickly, likely aware that the longer Stiles, Lydia, and Ally were taken to any degree the less and less likely they were to get them back. “Yeah, he’s on his way home. He said to wait to do anything until he got here.”

The Nogitsune rolled his eyes. “Okay, call Derek if you haven’t already, get him and Adrian here. If he gives you attitude, tell him that if he doesn’t come, Peter will kill him. Also, call Chris. Just tell him to get over here. Don’t tell him what’s going on.”

Looking over those he had, the Nogitsune ran the bloody hands he possessed down the face he wore. He then looked to Ethan and Aiden. “How would you feel about being glued to Mel?”

Ethan and Aiden both tilted their heads to the same side.

Before either of them could say anything one way or the other, Mel had something to say. “Can someone please explain to me why I’m here? You just said it was an emergency and that I needed to get here as quickly as possible.”

Rolling his shoulders yet again, the dark kitsune just smiled, barely short of releasing a cackling laugh of discord. “I’ll explain it to you when the others arrive, promise. Also, if you could be so kind as to not notify Scott of where you are, it would be appreciated.”

Mel furrowed her brows a bit just as Derek burst literally breaking through the back door with Adrian on his tail. “What the fuck Peter—”

The wolf paused mid outburst when he saw both of Peter’s eyes dilated into being depthless voids of blackness. “Wh—”

“Not yet,” the kitsune bit, not caring that most of the people here either knew nothing or only knew pieces.

Less than ten minutes later the Sheriff arrived followed only moments later by Chris. Most everyone seemed a mix of surprised and displeased at the presence of many of the others.

Just as people were about to start the cliché talking over one another and fighting verbally then physically, the dark kitsune decided he could feed more while also gaining more loyalty and ley-way from Peter by biting that shit in the ass— metaphorically for now. “Stop. Before you speak and piss on each other, everyone take a god damn seat.”

The Nogitsune began to pace some, fighting to keep Peter buried inside for as long as he could for the wolf to fully calm himself enough not to immediately rip into himself or shift fully. “Everyone. Gerard struck back. He took Allison, Lydia, and Stiles from the mall.”

Everyone was silent for a moment before it seemed nearly everyone was in a rush to make demands and point blame, but the sheriff won out by going first. “Why? What would he want with my son?”

Twisting his head in a strangely unnatural but still plausible angle, the Nogitsune theorized. “Probably thinking he could use the teen’s magic. Lydia technically could’ve been used to find him and or was a victim of circumstance. Ally, well. She put up a fight—not sure how much, but she tried.”

Derek growled out. “And how would you know that demon?”

Duke frowned, muttering. “You’ve yet to see a true demon.”

The Nogitsune spoke firmly then. “Because Stiles cried out to us.”

Erica asked. “How?”

The Nogitsune folded its legs up to sit cross- legged but not on the ground, rather levitating. “For those who are not already aware, I am a kitsune. The Nogitsune. I am within Peter, clearly, but have been connected between Stiles and Peter a bit. Namely, when the Alpha spark ritual was done, Peter, myself, and Stiles were deeply connected through the pack and our magics of different kinds to release all the alpha sparks in the county and redistribute them to those worthy, intended in a way.’

“Stiles somehow tapped into the last fragments of what had been done through his magic and his possessing the Hale Alpha spark to call out to his pack. For better or worse, Stiles was weak and only got out a brief cry out. Only I could fully grab and deepen it through sacrifice.”

Erica and Boyd both looked deeply concerned. It seemed they had heard the weak cry too and while relieved that they were not alone but also fearful of what the cry as well as the sacrifice truly meant.

Chris growled lightly, almost like a wolf. “The Nogitsune… was that why I was kept out?”

Peter chuckled. “No. Stiles was. Your basement was. Your last name. Your lies to Allison. The reality that you haven’t proven yourself to be someone worthy of being allowed in yet.”

Derek growled. “That why I was left out?”

Peter shrugged. “No. You because you thought it was okay to rough up Stiles and push him around.”

Arian stood a bit off to the side, but also seemed thoroughly out of his element on this.

Mel shook her head, “Okay. So why take them? Not to be a doubter, since I am new to this, but Gerard—isn’t he the man who was the principal for a bit?”

The sheriff picked up before the others. “Yes, and he has hurt my son in the past. He’s also Chris Argent’s father and Allison’s grandfather.”

Mel then threw up her hands. “This is insane. Why take his own granddaughter?”

Derek ground out. “To make a new Kate.”

Peter shook his head as one of his eyes returned to the crystalline blue they normally were. “No. it’s too late for that. I don’t know why he’d want her, but if he didn’t, he’d have just killed her and Lydia. No, Lydia is probably to keep the other two in line while he got what he wanted from them.”

Derek flinched at just the thought.

Deucalion looked off to the side in silence, likely remembering.

Erica and Boyd held hands looking down, also likely remembering.

Mel asked, softly. “What is he going to do to them?”

No one rushed to answer. Everyone who had been a victim of Gerard and his men were silent and seemed almost to be mourning. Except Peter who had half of his body partially shifted with a rageful expression with tears running from both of his eyes.

Derek moved to stand closer to Cora. He actively tried to pull her away from Peter.

However, Cora flashed her golden yellow eyes at her brother while Peter reached out a hand to grip the girl’s wrist while flashing his Alpha eyes at Derek.

The sheriff, not willing to take the silence, moved firmly toward Chris. “Well? What’s he going do, Argent? Where is my son?! Did you help him?!”

Noah pulled his firearm, aiming it at a standing yet guilty looking Chris. Pointing the end of his weapon at Chris’ head from about three inches away, the sheriff demanded. “Where is my SON?!”

Peter took a slow breath. “Stop.”

“Where is my, my SON?!”

“Noah! Stop… he can’t help in that way.”

The sheriff seemed to shrug off Peter’s words and pistol-whipped Chris, who did not even pretend to try to fight back.

Chris seemed to be gathering himself before addressed anything else rather than flinching away or breaking his stone-style cold solidity. “How long have they been gone?”

“About forty-five minutes now. I waited until we were all here to move any further than I have.”

Chris grit his teeth, not once looking to the Sheriff, just Peter. “What do you know?”

Peter sighed. “We’ve not left to investigate the scene of sorts. We’re assuming the mall was where they were grabbed as that is where they had gone. While we’ll have lost the scent trace, that was already a huge risk from the start. It’s more important that we gathered. Plus, with your speed at getting here, you also confirmed your innocence. I wasn’t actually sure which Argent did this.”

Snorting, Chris rolled his eyes. “Good to know.”

Everyone seemed to feel raw. Peter continued anyways. “There was a lingering hint of Scott too in what I was able to access.”

Mel grew red in the face while also appearing to be disappointed but unsure of her son’s role. “Was he taken too?”

Peter looked to her with something akin to sympathy as they had been becoming decent friends. “I doubt it, but I cannot say for sure right now. Honestly, he could have helped Gerard intentionally or accidentally.”

“Hence no telling him where I am…”

“Yes. Now, with us all mostly being on the same page, we need to get moving. We are on limited time, and I don’t know how long our pack members are going to hold out. Plus, this had to have been pointed. You don’t take a magic user, banshee, and a hunter out of nowhere this cleanly for no reason or without at least something of a plan in action.”

Noah looked to Peter. “Cleanly?”

Peter nodded sadly. “If not for Stiles’ deep connections with his pack, we would have no clue that they’d even been taken yet, and we wouldn’t know as much as we do.”

Noah sighed, looking down before looking back up to Peter. “Wait…the whole pack isn’t here! What about Deaton?! Couldn’t he help?”

Shaking his head, Peter leaned his side on the nearby wall. “No. Stiles has been suspicious that Deaton is keeping secrets he shouldn’t and strangely doesn’t seem to crave pack in the way a wolf normally would. He suspects Deaton isn’t really in the pack anymore but is staying, faking it for the safety of Stiles not killing him.”

Noah let his head fall back. “Why can’t anything be simple in all of this?”

Peter barely contained an ironic chuckle. “Mel, how do you feel about Scott going missing for a couple days? I promise not to kill him… at least not without your input.”

Mel frowned. “I’d rather you not.”

Peter rolled his shoulders, keeping to himself something that had happened in his own mind to get things sorted.

Chris then said, “I may have found the Darach. They’re getting lazy about covering themselves. I’m guessing they wanted to make sure the Alpha pack knew they were coming. Another thing you all left out before… that the Alpha pack was sticking around.”

Barely keeping his groan and eye roll to himself, Peter smirked at Chris. “Yes, we saved the Demon Wolf, leader of the Alpha pack from your father who—sorry for sharing with the son of the man who beat, cut, poisoned, and may have raped him. We were not in time to save his other two betas who Gerard gave to those witches we fought a few months back. Those wolves’ control and minds were taken from them leaving them hollow, feral, puppets. Here’s the two other members of the Alpha pack. Two twin teenage boys. Oh yeah, that’s how it is with Argents, right? Also attacking and destroying those too young, too weak, too blindsided, and more to torture and destroy them and any, EVERYTHING THEY LOVE!”

Duke seemed to see the truth in Peter’s red flashing eyes while one eye was black and one was blue—both flashing red.

Peter spared a quick but subtly wink at the older Alpha who likely put together that in his moment of need—he had to keep some level of control over himself to save his Alpha—Peter shared his Alpha spark with the dark kitsune in their fiery bonding.

Chris had the good nature to look somewhat chastised by Peter’s words.

Peter then looked to Aiden and Ethan. “Go get Scott. Grab Theo too if you see him. Didn’t scent him there, but who knows what that kid is doing. Stiles was pretty sure the kid was nothing but bad news. One or both—chain them up in the attic. I want them properly softened, but not dead, when I get back.”

Boyd and Adrian both stepped forward. “We can help.”

Peter shook his head. “No, I want you, Boyd to take Adrian with the Sheriff and Chris to follow this Darach lead. I don’t think they are involved, but I just… we just can’t know for sure. No loose ends this time. We’ll give the body to the Nemeton when we’re done.”

Derek growled. “Don’t go around bossing my betas. We’re leaving.”

Peter said only one word while not even bothering to give Derek eye contact while clearly thinking multiple things at once. “No.”

Adrian moved to Boyd’s side. “I’m gonna help save Stiles. He saved my life. From what I’ve heard, he’d saved yours too. We can’t just leave him to die.”

Derek growled, sounding more feral now and burst right back out the backdoor.

Boyd asked quietly, for only the wolves to hear. “Has he gone omega?”

Peter sighed. “Yeah.”

After shaking his head to clear his mind, Peter continued, “Erica, you sick with Mel. We don’t need anyone put in any more danger than we must. On that, Chris? You guys find the darach? Wait for us. They’ve sacrificed too many people to be taken lightly.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Peter continued. “Mel and Erica, you’re staying here. I need you, Mel to see what if anything you can do on short notice to get Duke on a leg.”

She asked outright. “Meaning prosthetics?”

“Whatever it takes. No price sparred but do it from here. Stiles has traps on and in the house. You’re safest here. I want him up and running by the time we have a halfway decent plan to get Stiles and the others back.”

With that said, Peter offered Erica his credit card. It was his blue one that everyone knew he kept hidden for emergencies as it had no limit. “Whatever it takes. The password if they ask is Laura.”

Erica flinched a bit at that being the password, but she accepted the card no less and moved to stand nearer Melissa. “And what are you doing?”

Peter smiled coldly, cruelly. “I’m going to show Cora what kind of Left hand I was for her mother.”

Erica visibly had a shiver run through her.

Those words out, Peter finally released Cora’s wrist and pointed with his chin to the back door. He left through the back door, hearing Cora follow. Peter at no point bothered to put on cloths, but he did accept a bag of cloths that Mel offered him. He had no clue where they came from, but it would do.

A few houses away from the Stilinski residence, Peter was wearing clothes, even a jacket as he led Cora to the downtown warehouse district. His mind being seared reconnected an old memory from before the fire of some of Gerard and Kates men having a hideout in the warehouse district. No harm in checking if old habits die hard.

Neither of them said a word until Peter brought them to a stop outside a warehouse that looked abandoned from the outside, but there were noises coming from inside. Peter took a deep breath, made eye contact with Cora then slammed his body through the wall as his claws popped out and his fangs dropped. Once through a piece of the wall, Peter and then Cora, who followed him, came upon what appeared to be three armed hunters and a caged fey creature—a brownie maybe?

Peter cackled with chaotic mirth: he would rend them from their flesh a cell at a time if that’s what it took to find out where Gerard had his Alpha.

He pointed with his chin to the caged creature in signal to Cora. Without wasting an yeffort doubting their communication, he lunged himself forward, claws first, into the hunters before they could fire on him or Cora. No need to be reckless after all.

--------------------------------

About an hour later…

Peter still wasn’t completely sure this whole thing was a good idea, but here he was. Rescued a brownie, a species of fey, and now he and Cora were trying to figure out what to do with the thing as they took it to the Stilinski house to get it patched up. However, now the creature was chittering like crazy.

At first, Peter had assumed it was a fey, maybe brownie language, or other as he set the creature in Mel’s care. However, upon paying more attention, he saw a series of squirrels come up to the still not fixed back door, seemingly listening to the brownie as Melissa took care of its thankfully few and very minor injuries.

Peter was starting to feel like he had somehow been pulled down the squirrel’s hole for lack of a better description. When the brownie stopped, the squirrels took off as though they were on a mission. Unable to help himself at this late a time on an already too damaging, too brutal on his sanity kind of day, Peter asked, “What were you doing?”

The brownie looked to him with strangely milky brown eyes, akin to Duke’s unseeing eyes but still seemed to see just fine. “I’ve sent out word to help you. Tit for tat.”

Trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth or risk starting a fight with the fey that were apparently all over town, unnoticed previously by the Hales, Peter just nodded in some form of acceptance. Leaving the brownie in Mel’s capable hands while Erica was right there with the nurse he headed upstairs.

While the brownie was a gift likely, he was disappointed the hunters didn’t know anything about Gerard beyond that he wanted a fey creature to disguise a new location.

While Scott hadn’t yet been brought here, Peter wasn’t ready to deal with the child anyways. He figured Aiden and Ethan may enjoy the opportunity to get out some frustrations before Peter went up for the possible emotional kill once they had him to start.

Instead, Peter moved to where he suspected Deuc was: Stiles’ bedroom. The man was laid out on the teen’s bed. To someone else, the man would appear to be asleep, but Peter knew better. “Hiding?”

The demon wolf chuffed then replied in his high-class British accent, “Not my style.”

Peter nodded and moved to sit beside the Alpha of Alpha’s.

--------------------------------------------

Duke felt so strange and hollow. He was saved by a fucking human! A human led pack?! Said pack has had their alpha taken by Gerard, but the whole pack and others are working to save him. Hell, a hunter was working to save Stiles?! This all made a shit ton of no god damn sense. Duke knew his own remaining pack members tried to save him for fear of what would happen if Duke got out on his own and came looking for them, not because they care. But this pack? They cared—for a human.

They cared so much as to work with their enemies and their enemies’ enemies to save and protect their human Alpha. They used kindness and manipulations and peace even to create something for themselves together. How was that even possible?

How could they all work this hard to find their Alpha and not fall apart without him, not start fighting and back biting to become the new pack alpha? No one had said a single word to that effect! Not even the Alpha from another pack— Derek. Hell, Peter could’ve and kind of had taken over, but all in the name of their alpha, never once trying to just lead and move on. How was this? Duke remembered Peter and his techniques for power even when young. How could some weak human do this? Create intense loyalty without violence or intimidation? How?

It wasn’t magic. It couldn’t be. The kitsune would have broken that, and could try to take over, but no. They were all still working together, still a pack even without the glue that was their Alpha there to guide them or demand things be done and even how to do them. No, they worked together. Not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

It was hard to wrap his mind around it. He sat up and scooched around so that he sat right beside Peter, and asked, “How? How does he gain this much blind loyalty from everyone?”

Peter chuckled bitterly. “Part of the key is that it’s not blindly. Stiles is something special. He has lived through more trauma than any of us even know the details of let alone have experienced ourselves outside the Hale fire, but he’s faced his own monsters even before finding out that the supernatural was real. He’s strong and loyal to a fault. This loyalty you are seeing?’

“That is the group and Stiles. We’ve all had trauma. We’ve all lost important things and people in our lives regardless of age. He sees it in us as we see it in him. We find connection to one another in our unblinking willingness to accept each other as best we can for what we are.”

Duke leaned over just a hint and caught Peter’s lips with his own.

Peter pulled back quickly, clearly having not expected the kiss.

Before Peter could speak, Deuc pulled the younger wolf onto his lap, “Shh… shh… please? I just need to feel something… my world is being deconstructed…”

Peter hesitated, but then firmly stated. “No. Stiles.”

Deucalion gave an empty smile and weakened whimper. “I suspected, but please anyways?”

The kitsune whispered to Peter to tempt him further. The fox did not want to betray Stiles, but in his own perverse way was attracted to the idea of having the Demon Wolf moaning their name. The Nogitsune then played it all out in Peter’s mind:

Seeking to be physically grounded, Peter slamming his mouth into Duke’s in an aggressive and painful kiss. It was half attack and half kiss.

Duke pulling Peter’s hips more tightly to his own as he ground up into the younger alpha. It was intoxicating to feel another person on him, against him. Peter was quickly growing hard too. Duke couldn’t get enough.

Still kissing Peter, attacking his mouth, Duke ripped off both his and Peter’s pants. Duke paused kissing to lick up his own hand before attacked Peter’s mouth again.

Using his own spit to slick up his erection, Duke drove himself mercilessly into Peter’s ass without prep. He didn’t care about emotions or who was friend or foe

None of that mattered with Peter wrapped around Duke’s cock, gasping into Duke’s mouth. They could both smell the blood but neither slowed their licking, thrusting, grinding. It just was needed. They needed now, needed touch, needed pain and escape, needed it all at once in this moment if only for this moment.

There was blood and pain and discomfort and pleasure and grounding. They each took what they needed and gave what they could.

Peter closed his eyes tight, ignoring his hard on at the images. “No. I can’t do that to him.”

Before they could talk further there was hard pounding on the front door by a racing heart not in sync with Stiles’ heartbeat pattern even at its most frantic. Who was it?

Notes:

Trigger Warning for reference to rape, an imagined sex scene, and discussion of violence.

Chapter 26: A Hunter, a Wolf, and a Darach, oh my!

Summary:

Scott. Alpha eyes. Darach.

Notes:

Trigger Warnings in the end note.

On the edge of the Preserve…

Scott had been running through the preserve to try and get his thoughts together. Deaton was… THEO KILLED HIM! Stiles was abducted, as were Allison and Lydia. What had he done?! What could he do? What was happening?!

His becoming a true alpha was supposed to mean he was right! It meant he was doing the right thing, but what now? He wasn’t an alpha of any kind anymore. His mentor, Deaton, was gone. The clinic was gone too. Burning in flames.

Did all of this mean he did something wrong? If so, what? And how much? Which things? Many things? Which things?

Feeling himself driving himself into run in endless circles, Scott forced himself to stop. Looking around himself, he realized that he was roughly in the same spot he’d meant Theo in to try and convince Jackson to join back up with his pack. Odd. Things definitely were going in circles in more ways than one.

Clearly, he was messing up even if he did not know the details. All who he would have turned to before were gone in a sense. He knew then that he was going to have to eat some crow pie and swallow a shit ton of his pride for the only thing he could think of to do next.

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Twenty minutes later at the Stilinski house…

Scott was banging on the front door with his heart going a million miles an hour almost when Peter opened the door, annoyed at the fallen teen alpha for daring to come to Stiles’ house after everything that had happened. But upon seeing Scott’s bloodied somewhat paled face, Peter gave pause. “What’s wrong?”

Scott scrambled in past Peter despite not really being asked in. The teen was visibly shaky and pale. “He has them. I thought… he said Allison really cared about me or at least wanted to be friends. So, I pulled her aside to talk to her. He said she just felt pressured by her dad to stay away. I just—”

Peter, once he’d closed the front door and disregarding any others that came to attention at the betrayer in their mist, moved to Scott and gripped both of his arms and then gave the boy a brief shake. “What are you talking about?”

Scott didn’t really put up any fight. He seemed too unsettled to. “Gerard!”

After giving a nod to Cora who was in the dining room for her to let Ethan and Aiden know they had Scott, Peter growled, forcing the boy to the couch and having him sit. “Tell us everything.”

Scott swallowed hard at seeing Peter’s Alpha eyes staring him down. “Gerard. He came by my work. I don’t know why, but he was there. He was talking to Deaton, I think. But I really don’t know for sure. But yeah, he talked to me. He told me all about things with Allison. He said that Chris was getting in the way and Stiles was trying to help me get with her.”

Peter barely held in his growl of frustration at the boy’s foolishness, lack of sense.

Scott continued. “He said that I should try to pull Allison aside when I next saw her or something so that we could talk without her father’s influence. He even suggested not worrying about if she was with people because they wanted Allison to be able to have what she wanted too.’

“He even mentioned that he’d be at the mail if I needed any help. It was weird… I should’ve known it wasn’t right. Gerard had already shown he could not be trusted, but I just wanted to believe that Allison actually did care about me, so I just charged ahead blindly.”

Willing to give a bit, but still not telling the teen all he knew, Peter crouched down, asking, “He took them while you had Allison pulled aside, didn’t he?”

Scott nodded. “I, I didn’t see it coming. I, it’s my fault they were taken…”

Standing back up, Peter rubbed his hands against the legs of his jeans. “We’re going to need you to take us to where you last saw them.”

Standing up, Scott nodded again. The boy seemed in a sort of daze.

Seriously lacking in patience, Peter sighed. “What is it?”

Looking to Peter, Scott mumbled out. “I just… every time I try to find love, it just gets messed up. I mess it up, don’t I?”

Peter nodded. “Yes, you do fuck things up a LOT.”

Scott groaned under his breath—“Tell me about it.”

The boy then straightened up.

Peter gave a faint nod before saying, “Okay, let’s go. The scents may already be gone since it was in the mall, but there may be something there that could point us toward where Gerard took them since we’ll know exactly where they were taken from.”

Taking this opportunity to potentially gain even more insight to what they already knew, Peter nodded to Cora, noticing that Aiden, Ethan, Mel, and Erica had returned, Peter said, “Ethan, Aiden? Keep this place secure. Also, protect Melissa while she works with Deuc. Remember, she is welcome here.”

Mel swept her son into a hug, clearly grateful he had not been taken.

With those words out and before Mel could give Scott a good talking to, Peter, Scott, Cora, and Erica left the house to head for the mall.

On the way, Peter debated on what he was going to do about Scott, let alone to Scott for the idiot having caused Stiles to be taken.

Once at the mall where the pack members were taken, Peter took a sniff around and sent Erica and Cora into the ladies’ bathroom to check for anything in there as Scott had said Lydia and Stiles had gone in there at one point. Peter kept growling under his breath. The dark kitsune seemed concerned in its own way. Peter wondered if the creature truly worried for the Alpha or if it had some other intention, motivation that Peter was not currently privy to. He hoped whatever it turned out to be would not spell the end for his Alpha or their pack.

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Stiles had been missing for hours, but Derek didn’t feel anything about it. The man nor the wolf seemed to feel anything much. They had some place to be. Neither remembered where they were supposed to go or even why, but he was called forward no less.

The whole time, in his dark Henley, jeans and boots, Derek had his hand secured around something. Absently he knew not to squeeze too hard: it would break. He somehow knew he was not supposed to break it. He had to bring it with him, but some part of him that was screaming felt so far away, so disconnected that it was like a frantic whisper millions of miles away. It was brutal how this was going even if he couldn’t put his finger of how or why.

Something kept nagging at him from an unknown distance. He knew somehow that something wasn’t right, but the moment that thought came it left as his mind was swallowed in imagining having had brunch with Jennifer. Her long raven hair running through his fingers while they kissed. His dreams of her curled to him, taking care of him.

She really loved him in his too real dreams of her. Her skin always felt so soft, an innocence he wished he himself still had. However, every time his mind strayed too far down any road within his mind outside of Jennifer, and going wherever it was he felt called to, it just floated away forgotten nearly as quickly as the thought manifested.

He had to keep going. Even though he wasn’t sure where nor had any words for it, Derek felt like he was late. He had somewhere to be, somewhere to arrive at and he wasn’t there yet. He had to keep going.

-------------------------------------------------

Chris groaned under his breath. “We need to call Peter and the others.”

The sheriff furrowed his brow. “Why? We don’t even know what all it is happening here.”

Chris looked to the sheriff then turned his attention to Boyd and Adrian. “Boyd, call your pack. Something is very wrong here. Tell them there is at least one innocent involved as far as I can tell.”

The sheriff looked less than pleased at being gone around rather than being taken as seriously as the man was used to be being taken. Slowly and as quietly as he could, Noah took out his service weapon while whispering, “who’s the innocent?”

Chris laid his hand on the weapon while shaking his head no. Instead, he pulled out a handgun and handed it to the Sheriff. “Unregistered.”

Shrugging, Chris focused his attention back on the warehouse. “Not sure there is one, but I want Peter to be cautious and that’ll force it.”

Looking thoroughly displeased, Noah still put away his weapon within its holster and took the weapon that would not lead back to him while rolling his shoulders at not liking Chris’ reasoning, but then admitting to himself that he felt the same about Peter quite often. It blew Noah’s mind that his son lived in this kind of world. He was just a teenager with ADHD and too much curiosity. How had their lives come to this? How could he be so out of touch with his son? With his son’s world?

Not ready to drown in the turmoil of just how much the sheriff wasn’t a part of his son’s life, Noah checked to see that the weapon was loaded. However, the bullets smelled different from the oil and lead scent of most guns. He then looked questioningly to Chris, the only other adult present.

Argent sighed. “Wolf’s Bane and more are in those bullets. It helps them work on the supernatural. No such thing as too prepared.”

They all stayed quietly hidden, watching the entry point to a warehouse. The sheriff wasn’t even completely sure about this, but Chris had said that there was evidence of supernatural comings and goings, alluding to him possibly having surveillance in the area and or spies. The man did seem resourceful in a way Noah had only ever seen really in his lovely wife. And her resourcefulness had nothing to do with weapons or violence or the supernatural.

His wife had been magical, but in a more mundane, human way. She was his angel, his magic, but not literal real magic. Noah barely kept his eyes from rolling at himself. He had to distract his thoughts somewhat to keep his game face on.

Shortly thereafter, while watching the warehouse, Sheriff saw Chris motion to move forward a bit. Less than half a step in, Chris froze and made everyone else halt too.

It was Derek Hale. He had a young Asian girl by the wrist, pulling her along with him no matter her efforts to the contrary. Dressed in dark clothes, Derek moved with singular purpose as though he did not have a teenager trying to get loose from him. The twenty something werewolf seemed to thoroughly be in his own internal loop to something unseen as he failed to hear the screaming girl he pulled along.

Chris frowned so hard that everyone there knew the man was probably gripping his weapon too hard as Derek got the teen girl into the warehouse.

---------------------------------------------------

About ten minutes later, Peter sleuthed into standing just behind Chris, pointedly making a bit of noise to warn the hunter of his presence, so no one would get shot. He was also surprisingly sweaty and faintly out of breathe at the speed which he had run to be there.

Peter motioned with his chin toward the warehouse. “Darach in there?”

Not waiting for Chris to speak, Noah quietly informed Peter: “Derek went in there with a teen girl just after you were contacted.”

Peter flashed his eyes, then popped his neck. “Well, I guess my nephew needs a bit of a talk— man to beast.”

Chris turned slightly to get a better look at the wolf with a frown etched on his face. “More we should know?”

Peter shrugged and then walked forward to the warehouse. They did not have time. No matter Peter’s frustration, he could not let his nephew get hurt again. He had to keep it together. It’s also what Stiles would have wanted, Peter suspected even without Peter wanted to keep the family he still had.

Peter had even managed not to deck Scott while at the mall, instead sending him and the others to the Stilinski home once Peter got the text about the Darach. Peter then hauled ass here. A good thing too, it would seem with his nephew involved. Maybe this was what had crawled up Derek’s ass lately?

Quiet in his approach until he heard the teenaged girl scream, Peter burst forth, hearing the others coming in hot behind him. As he slammed himself through the door, it was to the sight of a pale, dark-haired woman pressed to Derek. She was partially curled around Derek like a crushing snake with its prey within its grasp.

Derek appeared in a haze of sorts, fastening the young Kira to a rickety excuse for a table even with the woman around him. On said table there were ritual knives and herbs. The girl looked to be a sacrifice that was moments from being killed.

When her eyes fell on Peter, the women growled as much as a human could before whispering sweetly into Derek’s ear. “Take care of him, sweetheart. He doesn’t want us together. He thinks I’m his.”

Peter had no time for eye rolling or quips as Derek slammed into him. The younger werewolf made no pause or feign any which way. The wolfman literally was shifting while ripping and tearing at Peter in a near instant.

Even though he heard the others entering, Peter did not risk causing Derek’s attention to shift to the others. Peter too shifted to the wolfen half shifted form. Even as he heard the others seeming to struggle, Peter focused his attention on Derek. While he was angry with his nephew for everything that had caused Stiles to be taken, which in Peter’s mind included Derek breaking off into a smaller group and stretching the resources of the friendly supernatural creatures known to be in town.

Peter still knew better than to let his mind move to more fatal methods. Instead, Peter kept them rolling and moving. He didn’t want Derek too close to anyone beyond himself right now, so he kept his body tight to Derek’s as much as he possibly could while not allowing Derek the opportunity for a life-ending claw swipe of one kind or another.

However, Derek did finally fully throw Peter off and across the warehouse full of barrels, wooden crates and random table-like surfaces.

Further back from the situation, Peter could see the Sheriff pointing his gun at Jennifer while Chris was nowhere to be seen. The others were fighting some kind of invisible force that was holding them back. He could also see that there were loose wires about and sparking. While yes, a safety hazard, Peter and the Nogitsune within him saw opportunity.

Peter growled ferally, to draw attention to himself. He aimed to maybe distract the Darach and keep Derek’s attention. Peter then hauled literal ass to slam Derek HARD in the chest toward the wires and into a barrel or three.

The barrels burst, releasing the fluids within them that seemed to be non-flammable.

Not wasting any time, Peter made sure the water hit the wires with how he moved in getting up and continuing to fight Derek. While the electrified playing ground for their fight was no advantage to Peter or Derek really, it did “shock” some sense into the situation.

However, Peter could hear, while working to subdue Derek, Kira’s power cracking to life as the electricity hit the legs of and spread through the metal table she was on that upon further attention would be revealed to be a morgue-style metal table.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter could see the electricity and water was also causing the dark-haired woman to back up more.

Just as Peter managed to finally knock his nephew out, Peter turned, so that he and the dark kitsune within could see Kira pulling free of her incomplete bindings to the table. The girl looked to her hands and arms while electricity continued to surge through her and was crackling some about her fingers.

The dark kitsune was all teeth in its smile as it could see through both its eyes and Peter’s the flaming fox of her aura tuned into the now awakened, triggered fox within the teen girl.

Not wasting a moment, Chris Argent, came out from behind Jennifer and shot her twice through the back of the head. In her death, Jennifer collapsed to the ground, her true scarred and pale misshapen head and face revealed.

With the Darach dead, the magic holding the others back was broken, and they were all left standing around for a moment before Peter hefted up Derek’s body over his shoulder. “Kira, right?”

The teen girl looked to him, clearly in some level of shock from the chaos around her even being here. “Uh…yes?”

Peter didn’t chide the girl; instead, he moved a bit toward her despite Chris Argent giving him a dark dare of a stare. Peter smiled to her. “I tell you what. Want to come freshen up at our place and an explanation of what all happened here tonight?”

Kira nodded, flashing a brief and hesitate smile.

Peter was not at all willing to trust Chris too much just this second, so he sent the kids ahead to run to the Stilinski home except Erica and Kira who rode with Peter, the Sheriff, Derek, and Chris. The ride was tense and silent.

When the vehicle was within sight of the Stilinski house, Peter cleared his throat. “You should just drop us off, but we’ll be in contact, Chris.”

Chris didn’t say anything. He just came to the Stilinski house and parked. It was unclear if he intended to stay or not as everyone was getting out of the vehicle. the man waited until Peter was walking by his door. “I’ll leave for now, but I will be back first thing in the morning tomorrow.”

Peter shrugged. “May want to wait until later in the morning since we have a full herd of teens who may like more sleep than that.”

Chris seemed to take pause at the lack of fight. “You’ll be up.”

Once Peter stepped back from the vehicle, Chris drove off. Presumably heading toward home.

Peter, with Derek thrown over his shoulder once more, walked up to and into the Stilinski house. Once inside, Peter laid Derek out on the couch. He then went to check that all the teens made it back. He’d been in the heat of the moment, trying to protect them from one Argent while hoping they understood to stay together to help protect them from the other Argent in play.

With everyone accounted for, Peter sat at the dining room table across from Kira who had clearly been sat there by Erica.

Peter started with an obvious question. “Are you sure you want to know what’s going on?”

Notes:

Trigger Warning for violence and underage trauma

Chapter 27: What in the ... and high water?

Summary:

Hearing. Pain. Mother. Awaken.

Notes:

Trigger warnings in the end note.

Thank you for reading!

Lydia’s wrists and ankles were bound. By what she didn’t know, couldn’t check, as her eyes were covered by some kind of blindfold, so she was unable to see if anyone else was there. Something was in and over her mouth so she couldn’t banshee scream, call out for help, or even breathe through her mouth. It was hard to tell how long she’d be there as the drugs made her head swim and body heavy, but the last thing Lydia remembered was standing outside the mall in her light blue summer dress with Stiles and Allison. It seemed slightly ridiculous to her that Allison still had to be on guard all the time.

The incident at the preserve had been months ago and, as far as they knew, no threats were looming that knew the truth. Or so she had thought. Obviously, that wasn’t the case. Wait, no. no, they’d saved the Demon Wolf from Gerard. Gerard was a threat. He loomed. They were in groups for safety.

Safety? Safety?!

Her head swam. It was hard to keep things straight. She felt like she was outside her body yet still inside.

In a loose Hawkeye graphic t-shirt, Stiles had been telling her about this weird dream he’d had...or maybe it was something he read about? He had been most concerned that, in the dream, Lydia and a man he didn’t know were standing side-by-side, arms sewed together. No matter how much she assured him it was only just a dream, but just because he has spark, that he is an alpha, does NOT mean he’s seeing the future. And where the hell was Allison?

Then she woke up…here.

NO! No. that wasn’t right. Why was this happening? Why was everything swimming. Why couldn’t she keep it clear? Something was very wrong. What was happening?

Lydia did her best to focus her confused yet somehow also sluggish mind on whatever details she could discern, a habit she had developed due to how much she seemed to ‘awaken’ from the drugged haze. It was quite ridiculous, really.

She couldn’t see or speak—that much she already knew…had known. Her mouth seemed to be blocked by a gag with a rubber piece, like a ball or cork. Trying to move her head side to side brought the understanding that the gag was tightly secured to the blindfold, catching her hair with a tug if she moved wrong or too quickly. Slowly, more of her seemed to become conscious, so she kept working to gather any detail, no matter how minute.

Suddenly, and not for the first time, Lydia filled her lungs as best she could, letting loose a death cry for Stiles with everything she had. Little made it past the device on her mouth, a shallow repeat of every death rattle she had for Stiles ‘til now. Tears poured from her eyes as it did every time, a human cry stuck in her throat, eyes prickling and irritated. How much longer would this continue? How many times would they make her cry for Stiles? Or was it even real?

Was something affecting her scream besides the gag? Was Stiles really dying over and over? That couldn’t be right, could it? What was going on?

What was happening?!

With each banshee call, Lydia was both relieved and terrified: he had been revived again, yes? But this time could be the permanent end of Stiles? Each death cry was the only proof of his life for her in the moment it was taken yet again.

Or was she wrong? Shouldn’t the scream be strong enough to blow the gag out of her mouth? She wasn’t sure. But at the same time, she felt like there were growing whispers in the room with her. Not truly auditory like someone talking or even whispering to you out loud. But they were there nonetheless.

It had started as mumblings like distant whispers of the wind. With her input of senses being so hampered time remained absent, somehow. But over time the sound was getting clearer. Not really closer, as it was a sound that had somehow had physical weight around her, but rather rising to the surface in a way that she struggled to put to language within her own mind.

Then she shook her head as best she could. Why was she screaming? It didn’t feel like normal. Her mind was running circles, confused and twisting up everything, tugging on her hair with her movements.

Solid, physical things weren’t changing, like the thing in her mouth or her eyes being covered, but things otherwise weren’t right. How could she be screaming for Stiles? She didn’t feel like he’d died.

Furthermore, she literally couldn’t scream. The things in and over her mouth prevented it. Her mouth was useless. As it was, she could only breathe through her nose. She didn’t understand how things kept getting so twisted and confused.

Lydia felt like she had been here, wherever here even was, for an eternity but also just an hour or two. Nothing seemed right and the details of so much was twisting all around and what was real or wasn’t just kept getting murkier.

But it kept happening over and over again. The line between waking and sleeping was too great for her to accurately gage the distance. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she had managed to sleep at all being right there. Lydia’s heart was beating so fast she doubted she could sleep, but with everything she just didn’t know anymore.

Trying to school herself for the moment and ignore the emotional horrors of every death cry, Lydia used Stiles’ calming, focusing trick. She counted. When this all started, she was counting to ten. It was enough. But now? She was counting to twenty or forty depending on how close the death occurred, how confused she got, how disoriented she felt.

It all also kept her from thinking about Allison, which she had to do to survive. She could not bear the idea of what could be happening to her! Ally was the love of her life and Lydia couldn’t help, couldn’t save her. Lydia so desperately wanted to think about, fantasize about all of this not being real and just be in her mind, in happiest places with Ally. But she knew, she knew that road may lead her to check out and never come back.

Part of her job, Lydia knew was to keep herself together as best she could. She was going to get out of here. Even it things had been forever and a half or two minutes, Lydia knew the pack would come for her, come for Stiles, for who all Gerard had.

She needed to hold on, so no escaping into her mind. No thoughts of Ally and a life without struggle as it was too tempting to live only in her mind. She couldn’t do that, could not abandon everyone, especially Ally.

It took some time for her counting and tears to ease enough to return to her efforts to access anything she could in an attempt to find out where she was and how to free them all or at least help those who were no doubt working to rescue them—she tried everything, repeatedly, too afraid and determined to give up now. Somehow, she could never stop. It was the only solid in her mind outside of death.

Whatever she was sitting on shifted slightly under her weight. Whatever it was, she was tightly bound to it, the bindings making her realize her arms and legs were being pinched and causing her fingers and toes to tingle with sleep.

A moment later, she heard yelling and loud footfalls some ways away.

She realized those sounds were the first she’d heard, other than her own gag-muffled gasps, screams, and struggle against her bindings. There were no smells that she could discern. All she could feel was her bindings, gag, and whatever it was she sat on.

She heard someone open a door nearby—then a touch on her shoulder, and Lydia found herself tensing, assuming the worst.

Just then, a familiar male voice whispered to her, “Be very, very quiet. I am trying to get you out of here.”

Lydia then startled awake as another mournful cry rose unbidden, drowning out into the device clamped on her mouth as Stiles died yet again. Then another sob fought and lost its way against the thing in her mouth at reminding herself she didn’t feel him die. She was scared though and for some reason she could not seem to fully nail down, her mind kept constructing answers to questions she wasn’t even sure she was asking.

-------------------------------------------------------

Stiles had no idea how long he had been here anymore. It all kind of bled together in his mind: it had only been a few hours and forever all at once. His shirt was gone. Sort of. It was no longer on his torso, but it was on his face a lot in the beginning with the water. So much water.

He knew his eyes had to be blood shot as they burned like he’d been starring into the sun. He knew his legs were wet. Still working to keep himself grounded in what he knew, especially that which he knew for sure. He had originally been grateful it was just water at the beginning of being sprayed; however, it reminded his mind too much of other times and was icy cold.

Oddly enough with being sprayed with the water, Stiles found his mind to be lagging in the cold. It was probably from the sensations of the water hitting him like a series of freezing needles over and over again, but it still conjured an endless, almost weightless surreal quality to his perceptions.

He couldn’t help but fantasize about not being where he was—wherever that even was. Stiles imagined himself in his own bed with his wolves (Erica, Boyd, and Peter) cuddled up to him. He slowly added to his fantasy that Cora would join them. Maybe Derek? Lydia and Allison would be cuddled close, but off the bed on a roll out of something alongside another just like it with Aiden, Ethan, and even Duke on it.

Stiles did not include Deaton, like normal. The man just seemed untrustworthy to the teen. Even in his fantasies wherein there was no overt damage to be done to him, Stiles still refused to include the shady druid. Hell, Stiles wondered if the Darach in town was Deaton. Stiles wondered if Chris was really looking for the Darach or if he was somehow connected to what whatever was happening now.

However, the thought was shot down about as quick as he had it due to Gerard not respecting his own son. Then again, maybe that was an argument to trust the man? Stiles shook his head faintly in dismissive lack of concern for the moment.

Sadly though, even the slight shake of his head, Stiles had his migraine once again screaming at him, reminding him about its role in why Stiles was letting his mind float some beyond just the brittle attempt at self-soothing before his mind started to get away from him in a sense.

Groaning, Stiles closed his eyes tighter, demanding weakly for his mind to distract, to illude or possibly even delude itself. Stiles just wanted his mind to be taken to other places within to provide some level of relief.

It was hard work to ignore the pain in his every breathe. Up until recently the hunters, Gerard mostly, stuck to beating the shit out of him with bare fists. Stiles suspected he had a set of bruised if not broken ribs. He knew he was black, purple, and blue all over his chest and stomach that he could see. He assumed it was likely the same for his back.

His legs were an unknown for the most part. He knew his legs in the upper portions had taken a beating too, but with his pants still on he couldn’t really ‘see’ what the damage was looking like. He knew he had black eyes. He knew he had not lost any teeth outright but worried a few of them were certainly chipped. Again, he could not ‘see’ what the damage was looking like beyond what he could explore with his tongue like how he knew both his lips were busted in more than one spot.

When they’d grown sick of beating him into knew shades of skin, Gerard had called off his minion-like hunters to get a real look. After that the man had shown Stiles many SHARP tools and weapons, likely aiming to intimidate, but that only worked so well. Stiles was already very effectively scared and intimidated, but it did not change that he would not, could not betray his pack. It also helped that he couldn’t really see that well, so at least that edge had been taken off some.

Anything Stiles said about his people could possibly let Gerard in on his not only being a boy who ran with wolves, but also the leader of the pack rather than a straggler. A weak human that Gerard believed he could break. Stiles huffed a coldly half-hearted, brief laugh at Gerard thinking he could break him. Stiles thought bitterly that he was broken long before EVER even meeting a single person with the last name Argent.

Stiles quickly changed his line of thought though, not wanting to get anywhere near where that line of thinking could lead!

As it turned out, Stiles really didn’t have any time to follow any road as the door leading into where Stiles was opened with a whiny creak of definitely not new hinges. From the door came in Gerard—Stiles’ primary celebrity guest in this horror show.

To keep things going as well as keeping the focus primarily on him as opposed to the others he knew had to be somewhere here. Chuffing unironically, Stiles said, “Hmm… was starting to think you’d forgot all about little ol’ me.”

Gerard grinned like the predator he was deep beyond his bones or any flaps of skin.

Stiles had to keep them mad at him, focused on him. It could help everyone last until the pack could find them, rescue them. He had to keep all of them going on him for as long as possible, no matter the price to him personally. His pack needed him!

Stiles continued. “Brought back by my sparkling personality? It’s the movie references, isn’t it, leather face? Or would you rather be called Freddie? I feel like you aren’t much for wearing skin necessarily, but you are a nightmare of a sort?”

Gerard shook his head, but he did not respond further or stop smiling.

Maybe the smile was the nightmare? The knowing the man was thinking up more ways to hurt him.

Stiles very pointedly did not roll his shoulders like he normally did just for in case it would cause more pain to bloom within him beyond all the pains he already felt all over. “What? Have a different monster you would like to be nicknamed? Hmm… how about the Mummy? Slower than you, but almost as old… or how about Jason Voorhees? Oh, oh or maybe Jason’s crazy mom?! Yes, yes it would her. That’s who you are under the old man mask isn’t it? Kate was your Jason!”

Gerard folded his arms over his chest the moment Kate came up. Instead of allowing Stiles’ rant that was just barely getting going, Gerard just walked closer, leaving the door behind him ajar. “Odd you bring up Kate… as when I’m done with Allison, she’ll be carrying a new child that will grow up to be even more than Kate ever was. Perhaps with my seed in her, she’ll give up her touching girls phase to be a proper Argent breeder.”

Stiles threw up some in his mouth at Gerard’s words on his intentions toward Allison, his own freaking granddaughter! Stiles opened his mouth to vomit and or clap back—he wasn’t sure which of the two if not both.

However, Gerard, it seemed, was not done speaking yet. “That’ll make the banshee’s demise easier for her to take when it happens. How do you think I should do it, Stiles? Should I bifurcate her body like I’ve done with many a wolf? Or perhaps I should try to turn her into a breeder? I doubt that’d work since she herself is not human. Probably should just get her on her knees and put her down as the supernatural mutt she is.”

Stiles barely kept his eyes from flashing red or purple or a blend of the two while forcing himself not to growl. Even though a growl may perk interest in the geriatric, but Stiles couldn’t risk it regardless as he feared more harm could be done to them if he reacted too strongly. It was a strange balance act he wasn’t sure how long he could keep up.

After a beat of silence and Gerard’s grin of winning, victory it seemed, Stiles just bit out. “Don’t … how… do you have no soul? I ask because honestly, you seem to just be projecting onto wolves just how incredibly sick you are. Are you sure you’re not some kind of geriatric swamp monster or something? Naw, I shouldn’t say that. What if swamp monsters are real? I’d hate to insult them by calling you one among them.”

“ENOUGH!” Gerard growled.

It told Stiles enough that he would be hurting more in mere moments. He also knew the pattern. Last time, mentioning Kate had been enough, but this time it took more. Well, to be fair, Stiles had basically shit all over Kate—Gerard’s favorite child. Then again, with everything running together, who was to say that was in his head or out loud. This got confusing at times.

In came three other hunters. Between the three they had a long piece of wood, rags, and a few gallon jugs of water and a hose that was currently attached to nothing.

Gerard chuckled at something he found funny it seemed but that Stiles didn’t yet understand.

Gerard sent one of the hunters to untie Stiles who had been tied tightly to a steel-like metal chair with electrical zip ties of a range of colors on his arms, wrists, ankles, and legs. There were also hand cuffs on Stiles wrists and ankles to the chair. While the young man hunter with dirty and matted brown hair wearing denim and cotton alongside his multiple holsters with Wolf’s Bane filled bullets in their clips, shoved Stiles out of the chair he was on while ripping the chair out from under him, tossing it to the side to bang inconsequentially against the wall.

Stiles stumbled forward onto his knees and the palms of his hands. His body felt weak and wobblily. Were drugs administered to him without him knowing? The air nor anything that felt like it could be tainted, poisoned from the outside appeared to be in the air. Why was he feeling like this?

He had no time to dwell on those thoughts as he heard the slat of wood being dropped, then positioned. Seconds later, the matted brown-haired hunter and another with platinum blonde hair and no shirt hefted Stiles up from under his arms. His legs dragged. It wasn’t necessarily on purpose on Stiles’ part but at the same time, why make it easier on them?

Stiles groaned in pain against his own will as the two hunters positioned him on what he now realized was a wet board. However, they weren’t strapping him down. Stiles’ mind felt like it was on fire. Were they going to water board him? Is that where this was going? Did Gerard care this little? Or maybe this much? It all made no sense.

Gerard was a sick old monster, but he was anything but wasteful. That much Stiles had seen in the man’s effort to sew dissent and more among his prisoners and anyone else who was so foolish as to cross into his path. Stiles tried to get a grip on whatever it was that was happening. All these movements, actions, pain, and more were mixing up his mind more than Stiles wanted to admit. He had to get and keep a grip on all of this because the whole of his family, his pack, were counting on him to keep them all safe.

Although his body seemed to seek being in revolt, the rest of Stiles was busy causing itself more pain by tensing in anticipation of what he wasn’t sure was coming. He wondered if it was bad that some part of him really did wish sometimes that this time would be the time he died and was done with all of this, done enduring the pain of continuing to exist, the pain of fighting to endure and survive. Then he remembered that he had to do this. He had to endure for the others. He had to show his pack not only that he was strong, but he also needed to protect them from this by enduring for as long as he possibly could.

He steeled himself even though it hurt for the achingly slow if predictable next steps.

But then he was being hoisted up again. He felt his arms and wrists and even legs being moved around without any sense of care to attach Stiles into a form of wringing. His arms were tied into a dragonfly BDSM roping pulling his arms overhead. Stiles couldn’t lie even to himself. He was terrified of whatever was coming next. He doubted he’d ever be ready.

Maybe actually being water boarded would be better than whatever was about to happen to him. He kept him face as blank as he could even as everything in him demanded he scream or start shit or really anything to stop what was coming next.

The two hunters that got Stiles into position to be strung up held him by his arms and under their knees while their hands pressed down oh so painfully on Stiles’ shoulders. The third hunter with his Elvis side burns paired with a balding head laid a damp wash clothe over Stiles’ face, blinding him to what others were doing even as he felt someone—likely side burns hunter—gripping Stiles’ legs between his while his hands pressed down HARD on Stiles’ hips.

It was then he could feel what he was on. It was corner positioned like he was on a horse’s saddle that he was being tied to. He knew how it worked from one too many google-fed, sleep-less nights. You put your prisoner on dulled cornered saddle like for a horse. You put weights on their legs so that they are being pulled down onto the pain saddle while not having enough support or anything else to adjust, so he would just incredibly slowly, painfully be ripped in half by his body weight and whatever weights were being fastened to him.

Next was the much harder part—the water. He heard it seconds before he started struggling as the water was poured over his face and getting into his mouth and nose. The ash clothe was then ripped off by Gerard as the other hunters stopped carrying Stiles’ weight.

Gerard didn’t even pretend to not enjoy this part and the fear of understanding in Stiles’ eyes. This would be fatal, but also slow. It could easily take days and then more days. Gerard’s smile could be heard in his voice. “Hmmm… which fictional villain am I now?”

At the same time, Stiles was still being sprayed down with the icy cold water some more. The water weight was not helping him prevent being split apart and was also causing his body temperature over all take a nosedive from its precariously already-too-cold-state.

While under normal circumstance Stiles would’ve had a comeback, in this moment, Stiles was trying to not drown outright in his fear. It wasn’t conscious thought. He wasn’t that possible higher level of being able to form coherent thought right now. He was much more of a scared, wounded prey panicking to stay alive.

The last thing closest to a cognizant thought in Stiles’ mind was: Save them. If it was the last thing he ever did in his short life, Stiles had to save them from this.

Stiles opened his eyes he did not remember closing and straightened up despite the heavy toles of pain. He was no longer in his cell of sorts. No, he wasn’t anywhere. Everything was bright and white. He held out his arms and looked down toward his chest, checking to see how bad his wounds were only to find he had none. He was even clothed. Nothing special—just some sweats and his Iron Man graphic t-shirt. No shoes.

Huh, Stiles thought. Barefoot for this? He looked around and saw a massive nothingness of white all around him until suddenly it was no longer that way. He was now facing his mother. She didn’t look like she had at the end of her life. Rather, his mother looked healthy, happy even like she had in his spell casting efforts months ago. She was wearing what used to be her favorite fluffy robe when she was alive and still living at home when she swept him up into a hug that was so real that tears were rolling down from Stiles’ eyes before he could fully process what was happening as he held her close. God, he had missed her so very much!

As she let him go, he saw tears in her eyes too. She seemed to be hesitant about something. “We’re short on time. Remember, all things in threes. You too are a fox!”

Her smile, even with her tears, were beautiful. Stiles wished his Dad was here to see it in all its glory. It was a smile that had died several months before his mom had literally physically died, but it was no less grand.

Suddenly intense chest pain. Stiles opened his eyes as he rolled his head and began coughing up water and desperately trying to pull air into his somehow soggy but sandpaper rough lungs as he had been apparently being sprayed in the face to keep him awake. No rest for the wicked and all that.

Gerard chuckled. “Ready to go again? How much more weight should we add? I would hate for you to not get the entire experience.”

The hunters positioned Stiles again, holding him down and adding two additional small weights to his ankles on either side of the makeshift saddle of torture he was on. All the while Gerard laughed. “No more fight? Done smarting off?”

Stiles hissed as one of the hunters pulled hard on his left arm. “What? Want me to list all the sciences alphabetically like in the Flight of Dragons? Would that make you curl up and die like a cheap, knock off Voldemort?”

Stiles felt someone kick him HARD in the ribs before they were starting to spray water all over Stiles again. The teen struggled like a panicked, frenzied animal as best he could. The feeling of the water on his face felt other worldly even as it did not outright suffocate him. It was like a waterfall of death wherein the water was meant not only to touch him but also be soaked into him.

Abstractly, Stiles felt cold at being so wet and exposed. However, the water getting into his mouth and nose took away those thoughts and all others as they were had or before they could get any groundings.

However, while the water poured, he felt his legs being released or at least only held down by the weights strapped to him without any hunters touching him at all. It gave Stiles somewhat renewed fevered attempt to kick away somehow and escape. But instead of kicking himself free, Stiles suddenly felt the reason for the hunter letting his legs loose as he felt the burn and internal sensation that the teen could only describe as static on the inside as he was hit in one side, then the other with a taser.

The scent of burnt flesh joined the wet tastes and sounds as Stiles cried out in pain. In that moment, that single second, Stiles hands were wet while he was being tased and as his cried out and even more water got in not only to his mouth but into his lungs, Stiles sent out a short burst of magic. It was not done with intent, with purpose. It simply escaped him like an instinct while just as unseeable like the fight to breath and need protect everyone.

Stiles once again blacked out gasping for panicked air.

-----------------------------------------------------

In Beacon Hills, the Stilinski house midnight…

Peter shot up from the puppy pile he had going on in the livingroom to both help Derek heal from his magic-induced hangover and to help the wolves, the pack, feel safer. It was hard without their Alpha right there for them.

Stumbling to his feet, Peter moved without thought to the kitchen. He took several deep, deep breaths clutching his chest.

Cora was the first to come to his side even as Peter heard the other wolves rising from their slumber at his rapid, arising pulse and getting out of the pile.

Notes:

Trigger warnings for violence, torture, suicidal thoughts, as well as discussion of incest, sexual assault, and murder.

Chapter 28: Rally

Summary:

Call. Gathering. Assignments. Rescue?

Notes:

Sorry this took so long! All errors are my own.

Peter looked to Cora who approached him first. He then uttered just above a whisper. “Stiles called.”

Cora tilted her head to the side. She brushed her hair out of her face.

Peter sighed. “Magically. I don’t know how, but he called out to the kitsune that I have inside. It was… primal.”

Cora furrowed her brows. At the same time, she pulled back her hair and wound it into a low, tight pony tail. “Where we going?”

Peter shook his head. “I have no idea, but the spark left a trail. The kitsune—Nogi as Stiles called it—can feel it, feel its way to him. We need everyone up, even the sheriff. If things are as bad as Nogi thinks it is, we better call Chris too.”

Cora nodded, needing no further direction. She helped the others get up, even Duke: Stiles was worth it. He had brought their family spark back to them and had worked to stop her being a prisoner without ever asking for anything in return. Though, admittedly, she didn’t help Duke specifically or really any member of the Alpha pack terribly well or much.

Boyd and Erica made odd eye contact, but then Erica ran upstairs presumably to roust the Sheriff and Boyd helped get Adrian up and moving.

Peter had a horrible thought, and then decided all help had to be welcome right now. “Call Melissa too. Even tell her to bring her failure of a son. He owes a debt.”

His horrible thought was of this becoming a body retrieval for one or all of their pack that had been taken. However, Peter held to the hope that the pack would’ve felt it if someone died, let alone their Alpha. Peter knew what that should feel like. Peter reminded himself that the magic of the spark trail couldn’t exist if Stiles was dead. He straightened himself up: Stiles was not dead, at least not physically. “Make sure to grab what lighters we can.”

As the sheriff came downstairs looking groggy but with wide open eyes. The man had clearly seen better days and more sleep, but he somehow still seemed alert enough to help. “New information on Stiles?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, he sent out an emergency signal.”

The sheriff nodded, straightening up further. “Then let’s go get him.”

With a shake of his head, Peter opened his mouth to explain-ish but was interrupted by Boyd.

Boyd held his phone to his ear. “Melissa says Kira called Scott. She felt someone call out to her.”

Perking a brow as he turned to look at Boyd, Peter tilted his head ever so faintly. “Smart girl. Have Melissa tell Kira AND Scott to come here with her. We could use all the help we can get.”

Boyd nodded before returning to talking on the phone to presumably Melissa.

With her phone in her hand, Cora asked. “Anyone else we need to get to head here?”

Peter hesitated, but then he shook his head no.

The dark kitsune rose to the surface, changing one of Peter’s eyes blown black beyond his pupils. Then the smoker’s cough of a voice emerged from betwixt Peter’s lips. “No. Stiles was untrusting of Deaton even if we didn’t know all the specifics of why. We’re going to follow the Alpha’s lead. We leave Deaton out.”

After a beat, Peter sighed. “Better call Chris.”

Cora nodded and grabbed a phone.

Peter turned back to Noah as the nogitsune and Peter’s voices blended. “That is why, Sheriff, you are staying here.”

The sheriff rolled his eyes, once again showing his and Stiles’ relation in his facial expression. “That is my son.”

Peter shook his head. “That is exactly why. If something were to happen to you in the efforts to save him? Stiles wouldn’t be okay with that. Plus, we need you here with Melissa and some others. We cannot risk not being ready for however this is going to play out. There is no room for any mistakes.”

The sheriff looked ready to growl, but Erica got him moved along to sitting at the table as she set up coffee to brew after rinsing out the coffee pitcher from the machine.

Peter looked to her. He wasn’t quite fully aware of the look on his face as it was not his primary concern, but Erica reacted no less.

She shrugged. While getting the coffee set to run, Erica explained. “I need things to be like he is right here. He always complained about me not rinsing out the pot. He’ll want a fresh pot when he’s back anyways.”

Peter walked up to her and put a hand on the back of his fellow beta’s neck and gave it a gentle but brief squeeze intended to provide comfort. “We will get him back.”

Once he felt he had comforted Erica as best he could, Peter turned back to the others. “No room for mistakes. Cora, rouse your brother, please. We’re going to need him at least base levels of functional.”

Hanging up with Chris since the man had already ended their call, Cora nodded and moved to Derek to help him get a steadier version of upright.”

Peter’s attention was already on the others. “Once Chris, Melissa, Kira, and Scott get here, we’re going to gear up and head out. As a result, I’m gonna set up groups now.”

Erica moved to hold Boyd’s hand that was previously on the phone he no longer held seemingly for support. “Adrian? You’re staying with the Sheriff… I mean Noah and Melissa. Derek will stay with you guys as well. Scott and Kira need to be separate anyways, so I’m going to split off into pairs following the kitsunes. Kira too is hearing Stiles’ call, his beacon. As a result, Kira and I are both going to be team leaders. Since she has a limit on experience, I’m having Cora go with Kira as well as Ethan. Boyd, I want you to go to the hospital and watch Issac. While he’s not an active participant, we can’t risk leaving him vulnerable. Aiden will go with you. Duke and Erica will go with me.”

“What about me?” Chris asked as he came into the room with Melissa and Scott.

Peter perked a brow. “No Kira?”

Scott flushed in embarrassment. “She said she’d head over on her own. I think… I know, she is still really upset with me.”

Peter nodded. “Good thing I’m not including you with her. Melissa, you’re staying here. Scott, you are coming with me so I can keep an eye on you. Cora, are you okay with having Chris with you?”

Cora looked the older human up and down while asking, “Was he involved in burning our family?”

Chris looked down and to the side having the good grace to look ashamed.

Peter didn’t have time for that though. “No, he didn’t. Still be careful though. He seems to have passed Stiles’ test, but he’s on probation in terms of trust until Stiles says otherwise.”

Cora nodded. While the girl may not have automatic full trust of Stiles, she did respect the human Alpha no less. The Hale spark choosing him went a long way for her on that front.

Peter turned his attention to Scott with a harsh look. “You betray us? I’ll relish ripping out your throat, as my nephew would say, with my teeth.”

Looking scolded, Scott nodded. He did however look to his Mom as if he hoped she would throw down on his behalf.

Instead, Melissa said, “If you betray us all? Consider yourself not the son I raised you to be.”

Chastised, Scott kept his eyes down.

Chris then questioned the situation. “Seems like you are leaving behind a large chunk of your pack. You sure that’s such a good idea?”

Peter growled subvocal. He kept to himself how necessary this was. Too much of the pack were wounded for them to go in full force. Add on human pack members with limited fighting ability and you had a situation that could turn worse than an already tilted dime against their favor.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

Adrian opened the door.

Kira came in looking quite shy but also had a katana blade. She seemed to be trying to steady herself. “Scott said it was an emergency.”

Peter gave her a genuine if brief smile before filling her in on the group break down, including that Noah and Melissa were essentially the medical bay right now as well as what they were, would be facing.

At the same time, Boyd grabbed Ethan and Adrian to help him upstairs to raid both Stiles and the Sheriff’s clothing closets for extra clothing as needed for those being rescued as well as those who would be shifting.

Meanwhile, Chris went out to his pickup truck. He had a full-sized, steel, single lid truck box like some other men used to store tools for construction or home repair. Chris sidled up to the side of his truck bed and reached over to open the lid. He pulled a duffle bag out and re-sealed the lid. Chris then went back inside with the duffle bag.

Next, Chris placed the duffle bag on the dining room table. He then unzipped the bag to pull out a few different guns. Chris then looked to Melissa. “Do you know how to use any of the weapons?”

Melissa shook her head slightly.

Noah rubbed her back for a moment. “It’s open, I’ll do the shooting should it come to that.”

Chris face got all screwed up, but he didn’t get a chance to fully share his opinion really, so he saved it in the back of his mind for later seemingly.

About thirty minutes later, everyone had gathered what weapons and more that they may need, including fresh cloths for post shifting. Kira, Cora, and Ethan went with Chris in his truck. Peter, Deuc, Scott, and Erica went in Derek’s rented SUV from the previous confrontation with Gerard.

The drive was strangely silent while tense. Once again, it seemed, Gerard’d had the wherewithal to take his victims out of the county; however, this time it wasn’t to the same county as where they’d found Deuc. Instead, it was about two and a half counties away toward the east. It seemed Gerard learned from his errors with Deuc and the attempted ambush on the rescue effort. Just how much he had learned remained to be seen.

Kira’s group were following the SUV in Chris’ truck. All the while, the dark kitsune within Peter provided directions to follow the beacon as Peter drove. Nearly an hour out from their starting point and once close enough to be about a mile and half out from Stiles’ presumed location, both vehicles pulled over.

After everyone quietly exited the vehicles, Peter spoke quietly, “Put your phones in the vehicles along with all other technology.”

Once that was done, Peter handed Ethan a cell phone. “It’s a burner phone. I want you guys to go forward and around. I want you all at the right of wherever we are about to enter.”

Ethan asked. “Why not the other side? We could pin them down.”

Peter shook his head. “No, that begs for new hostages being taken, a fight we won’t win, and excessive casualties.”

Ethan nodded faintly.

Duke wasn’t leaning against anyone to support his amputated leg of a body but had shifted to the half form most werewolves used. While he was a form of three-legged dog in a sense, the shift still allowed him unassisted mobility overall.

Peter then added. “Text when you’re in position. I’ll text you ‘low’ when it’s time to move. Destroy the phone once you’ve shifted. We do not want a full-on assault. We are just search and rescue. However, if you come up against Gerard—run, but don’t leave the wounded behind. Don’t care where you are—just get away from him. He is not someone you want to tussle with. Even if he’s wounded, don’t go for it.”

Everyone nodded.

One last reminder slipped from betwixt Peter’s lips. “Silent but deadly. We don’t want them to know we’re there at all if we can help it. Keep it quiet. Otherwise? No mercy.”

Once again most everyone nodded, except Scott who seemed incredibly uncomfortable and torn.

Kira, Ethan, Cora, and Chris got moving first to get themselves into a position that no one could be sure of until they were much closer.

Peter hoped Ethan would help keep the young wolves and kitsune safe. Then again, he hoped the best for everyone in his pack as well as those outside it, even Chris.

Notes:

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 29: Too Much Past and Present

Summary:

Fighting to survive long enough for help to come.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading, and I promise the rescue is just about here <3

Trigger warnings in the end note.

Time was just not the same here. Stiles felt like he had never slept a wink in his life even though he knew he had at least slept some from before he was taken. The hunters had left him on the floor in the water with his arms still tied overhead. It was wet and cold on the ground. Stiles had chains on his wrists, but he was left slumped over and cold with no form of furniture or otherwise with him. His arms were in a BDSM Dragonfly rope system on his arms in addition to the chains.

The hunters had tossed aside fully Stiles’ shirt, blindfolded him, and sprayed him head to toe with cold salt water. At first, it was just cold water on him, but after what seemed like a short period of time the salt began to cut. Every fleck of salt in the water felt like little pelts, then knives against his skin.

Somehow the saltwater felt even worse than when they were carving into him. That had an ebb and flow. It had a stop and start punctuated with Gerard’s malicious cackles. But now, not only was flesh exposed by metal but being sanded over cell at a time with water.

The first time Stiles had been hosed down like this had been painful and unnerving. It just didn’t end. But it being consistently focused on his chest in one spot that felt like right over his heart for who knew how long caused the pain to be a cord reverberating through him even with the water off now. He was raw from before and had bruises all over his torso that were tender to touch let alone the little salt daggers in the water. He was tenderized.

What was next? Cooking him?

Sadly, being on the chair sounded like a welcome concept as he hoped it would’ve let him maybe have a chance to dry off. Although being on the chair meant other pains, like them carving into him more. At least there he wasn’t soaking wet in puddles around and under him.

Oh, the tease of water he needed, but it being undrinkable.

He almost wanted to speak, to ask for warmth, even ask for the chair, but he knew that would spell the end for him. He could not give them that; however, maybe he could antagonize them into it? No. he’d stopped antagonizing them an unknown while ago. He didn’t have it in him.

As it was, Stiles had only even eaten once while here and it wasn’t much. It was after he had stopped antagonizing them. He had stopped due to weakness, but some part of him was too hungry to start again, too weak. He had wanted to eat more. The slice of white bread he was given was nowhere near enough, but growingly he felt the hunger less and less.

Had he been here that long? Was it because of him still being weakened from the Alpha spell? Lack of sleep maybe? He felt weaker than he thought he should, but it was so hard to say right now.

Stiles didn’t know how long he’d been here as the lack of food, water, and sleep made everything feel like forever, but he did know that his thoughts of drinking the water off the floor were not going to help.

It felt weird to be on the ground long enough to have thought processes, to string together words beyond how he needed to take it, needed to keep strong, keep going for the others. He still needed to be strong, to give everything he had for his pack, family here and not. He had responsibilities.

He knew he was repeating himself, going in rings, but whatever it took.

Stiles wanted to take a few sips of the salt water he was in and that around him that he could reach before forcing himself onto his knees. He felt so weak, but he knew that did not matter right now. He had to pull himself together as much as he could. After a few labored breaths on his knees, Stiles bent himself to sitting on the heels of his feet while using his fingers to try to grip the chain he was dangling from. A few more labored breaths, then Stiles forced his back upright while letting his head fall back.

Taking another slow breath or two, Stiles then steeled himself. “Hey! You bitches giving up already?! You are so the Hawkeyes to my greater government powers!”

Moments later, Stiles was not alone in the puddles anymore.

A hunter Stiles felt he should recognize by the semi-staccato movements, but it just did not quite click. The man punched Stiles hard in the side.

Another hunter came in and punched him in his other side. The two, at least, that were there began beating Stiles in a series of punches and kicks that had Stiles on the ground again wheezing for air through his already wounded ribs.

The hunters then pushed Stiles onto a chair in the room that seemed to come out of nowhere. They bound him around his upper torso and arms to the chair. Then, they bound just below his knees as well as his ankles to the chair.

They took off his blindfold.

Next, the hunters began chuckling at what to Stiles seemed to lack sense. That was until Gerard walked in and the person behind him, in leather pants that could not be practical, carrying what looked like a very heavy toolbox.

Once they were in the room, like always, the door to his cell was left open like a tease. It was a bitter sign he couldn’t escape. Stiles would be able to walk right out.

It took a moment before he realized that the chair had only the frame of the back of the chair while most of his back was exposed. That did not bode well for Stiles, and he knew it. This was looking to thoroughly not be his day while it was distinctly his life.

Gerard hummed a thought it seemed before cracking a massive grin. The man stood before Stiles, close enough to lunge for if only Stiles was loose. “I can’t decide. What should we carve on the boy who runs with wolves next… maybe something for his wolves to see every time his shirt is off, like a list of the Hales that are gone? Others we’ve hunted? That sounds like a great plan, but oh, how would we keep track of what we do to him, keep count of how many times we destroy him before when I have the Nogitsune within me, and we rind him from his mind as we create with him what legends of the Vikings claimed to be a form of execution.’

“The legends claim that they slashed open the back, broke the rib bones to turn them around like eagle wings. Next the lungs would be pulled out laid on the open wings before salt was poured in. However, for you? I’ll make it special. We’ll pour ground glass and Wolf’s Bane over your wounds and stuff your mouth with salt before taping it tightly shut. Think that will stop you from being a mouthy problem?”

One of the other hunters piped up with, “Maybe the secret will be to brand him like the brunette?”

The hunters that had tied him up were laughing. They kept laughing.

Stiles could not help that he paled and then just grew angry. This was how they viewed life? They thought this was okay to do to a person? To any living thing? Let along someone who they said was properly human whom they claim to be protecting. Stiles groaned some then spit at Gerard, hoping his saliva would make the man shut up even if only briefly. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite! You claim that you hunt to protect people, but you don’t want to protect people—you just like destroying everything! You’re the monster! The supernatural?! They’re good guys—not you, never hunters.”

The spit landed on Gerard’s hands—much lower than Stiles had hoped.

A blonde hunter punched Stiles in the face.

Gerard frowned deeply at Stiles. “Victims of the Hale fire first it is. But I’d like all the kills I’ve been involved in, so they know they’re next. Put the youngest on his chest so when they find his body, they’ll still be the most visible, so they know there is no mercy.”

Stiles would’ve spit on them more and thrown more truth out, but the brunette hunter stuffed something into his mouth that tasted unidentifiably foul before using too many layers of duct tape to seal his mouth shut.

However, when they started cutting, they started on his back.

Stiles shivered and groaned in pain and his fight to stay away from memories the cutting was causing to try and surface fully in his mind.

One hunter slapped Stiles on the back of his head before carving deeper than before.

Stiles swallowed the scream he knew he should keep to himself. Normally, in high stress moments like this, he knew to start small. Just focusing on one little thing; however, he couldn’t get his attention off the cutting on his back. So much so that he almost missed Gerard leaving the room, again with the door still open.

Closing his eyes to try and get a grip on himself and focus on something else, somewhere else, Stiles could not help but think of his Mom. She had been the sweetest most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She even put Lydia Martin to shame with her beauty.

His Mom’s beauty was beyond her looks. She had been so kind, almost otherworldly in all her ways of being, how she walked, gardened in the backyard with him, and even how she cut him.

Stiles crushed his eyes shut more, desperate to get away from the bad times. He focused as hard as he could on the day they had been gardening in the backyard. His mother spoke sweet with a voice he couldn’t forget about how roses and garlic liked each other. They were good to plant for both chemistry and protection. She would tell it to him with examples that were playful and connected well to the superhero stories he already had found love for. Those were happy times, happy moments. Nothing like when she’d slash at him with a kitchen knife.

Trying to get away from any thoughts, Stiles’ eyes shot open, but he wasn’t where he had been. Suddenly he was six in Batman footie pajamas. His Mom, in her once soft pink robe and blue cloud pajamas, standing over his body on the kitchen floor where he had fallen. She had a kitchen knife to his throat.

“You won’t be able to kill me if I kill you first!”

Stiles rolled hard to his side. It cut across his neck and his ear lobe, but he lost neither his life nor his ear as he had knocked her off balance. Stiles wriggled away as fast as he could before scrambling to his feet and running for his life toward the livingroom door to escape the house and his Mom, or really the monster wearing her face.

“You won’t get away! I know you’re killing me! I know! I’m… I’ll get you first!”

Even as he heard her fumbling to her feet, Stiles didn’t stop—he couldn’t stop. He was too scared, too ashamed of him being what was killing her. He didn’t wait. He opened the door and ran for dear life. He knew she rarely made it past the front lawn, but again couldn’t risk it and kept going.

Today she had gotten closer, closer to killing him than she ever had before. He was scared and didn’t entirely understand what he was doing. But she could be so kind some moments and a monster the next. No one could help… his Dad didn’t talk, couldn’t look at Stiles or even at Mom. Stiles just had to keep running.

Stiles knew eventually he would be going back home, but he really hoped she’d have forgotten the knife by then. Maybe he would be lucky, and she would remember him for even just a moment? Those moments were growing shorter as well as further apart. Crying as he ran, Stiles tried to ignore how his feet hurt from all his running.

Less than a second, less than a turning back to check how far he had run, Stiles was back in his house. His mother shoved him HARD down the stairs.

The hunters then adjusted Stiles on the chair—even wishes did come true it seemed until he realized it wasn’t the normal chair. He had lost time and been moved to a different chair.

The framing of a chair was there, but only fragments of the flat portion for the butt were there. There was a noticeable gap for something to be pushed through or ripped through. That would’ve seemed like a bad sign, but there was no time for those thoughts.

He was strapped to the chair with what felt like ropes his swollen eyes could not fully make out. He was bound around his ankles, knees, and hips. Next his chest and arms—both at two distinct points of binding to keep him still. Then his upper thighs—two rings to again keep him very still and pinned down. Whatever came next, Stiles knew was going to hurt more than cuttings from before on his chest, back, and arms.

Just having this moment to really feel how he felt was horrifying. He was wet all over. He felt sticky. Every inch of his chest and back burned like salt had been used to shave off layer after thin layer of skin. Time was confusing. He felt his mind moving back to thinking about his Mom’s smile but before he could lose time in the flashbacks, Stiles’ mind was brought to on point by a voice.

A voice he unfortunately had grown to know too well: Gerard. “Hmm…seems you’ve found more fight. Well, I can fix that. Since soaking nor softening was enough for you, perhaps something new will help. Did Deucalion tell you what I did to him? Did he tell you about how I invaded him? First with the pear of anguish? Then further humiliating and defiling him?”

Stiles wished he had moisture to spit in the direction of Gerard’s voice, but he was coming up dry.

The old hunter tutted at him. “Hmmm…so much fight. I think that is a no. Well, let me illuminate you.”

Stiles heard Gerard pulling up a chair and then sitting in it like this was going to be children’s story time.

Gerard cleared his throat as if he did not already have all the silent attention on him. “You see, having an Alpha wolf is no small feat, let alone keeping him alive and caged for a prolonged period. Hence, I gave away the two lessor Alphas to the witches. Them playing with Scott’s pack was just a bonus as one would say. But I kept the Alpha of Alphas. I kept the Demon Wolf. I kept him and used him up like an errant cloth.”

Gerard gave himself pause as though he might be emotional about how he hurt Deucalion. “You see, I didn’t just possess him to torture and destroy over time. He was more than a practice in cutting for young hunters. No, I OWNED him. I took my prize in the deepest sense. You see, a wolf can take a lot of pain and torture if you keep them alive, but an Alpha wolf?! It has been so long since any hunter was able to keep one long enough to test the boundaries of endurance in an Alpha, but I have. I have and have seen to it being documented.’

“Then, I took him. First with the pear of anguish. Since he heals and would likely take it swell after a few moments, I had decided to make it memorable. When I opened up the pear inside of the Alpha’s anus where I had penetrated, the Alpha got to feel the little surprise inside I had placed for him: yellow Wolf’s Bane. It would ensure he would ALWAYS remember. Since so few of his pack escaped, I had assumed that after the Alpha’d had some time to fight to heal and be unable to, it all would help to break his spirit, but it had not.’

“I ripped out the pear of anguish. I then fucked the bloody remains of his hole to break the Alpha for good… however, before I could see the results of my hard work, the Alpha was taken from me… by a little fox spirit in a human’s body. I may never know if I broke the Alpha but since you are here, we’ll see how much it’ll take to break you. Then I can claim the fox’s power as my own.”

Stiles then heard Gerard get up from his chair and walk a bit to the door with other steps moving out ahead of him. Just then as the other hunters were gone, Gerard’s attention seemed to return to Stiles. “Who knows, right? I’ll give you a little time to figure out if just the story was enough or if we’ll need the pear of anguish or more for you too.”

The old man then shrugged. “It’s certainly worth what we paid Deaton for his help.”

With that the door was shut, and Stiles believed he was all alone.

Stiles closed his swollen eyes against reality. He didn’t want what was no doubt coming even as he repeated mentally that he had to take it. He had to survive for them, for his pack here and now. He had to keep going, keep taking all he could so they wouldn’t have to.

Even as he kept repeating to himself what he had to do, Stiles had tears streaming dryly from his closed eyes. Even as he kept repeating to himself what he had to do, Stiles felt himself slipping… slipping…

He was in the basement again. He wanted to scream, to cry for help but it would do no good. Both he and Theo had screamed as loud as they could, fought as hard as each of them could separately and together as the children they were.

Stiles had been quiet, always quiet about his time at Theo’s house for “play-dates.” He never knew the name of Theo’s father. Only here, in this basement wherein he demanded he be called Sir. No matter what he did, they had to address him only as Sir.

He wanted words, filthy words while inside the boys. When one had Sir inside them the other had Sir’s fingers prepping them to be next. It was never ending.

Stiles’ eyes shot open but all he could see, could feel was Sir’s basement and Sir had his hand on the small of Stiles’ six-year-old back pounding away while Theo cried. Theo always cried at Sir’s fingers. Those fingers were big and could be cruel and actively scratch their insides with his nails. If you began to cry, then Sir would immediately do that or make you take him in your mouth to gag you with his seed.

Shaking his head and even rocking his chair in his efforts, Stiles began to further shake violently as though the only way to escape the memory, escape the hand on the small of his back or the sensation of Sir inside of him was to literally shake into ripping free from his own body.

Stiles began to scream. He didn’t care if anyone heard anymore. He had to scream, had to cry out—maybe someone would hear! Maybe this time Sir would be stopped! This time help would come! This time he would hurt his father by telling him what was really happening, making him see something was wrong beyond Claudia’s illness.

Crying out to be rescued and shaking himself hard enough to harm his ribs anew, Stiles managed to knock over his own chair so hard that his own head hit the ground and provided hopefully blissful unconsciousness.

Notes:

Trigger Warning for violence, sexual assault (minors and discussion of), and torture

Chapter 30: Bowels Below

Summary:

Shack. Descent. Insanity. Blood. Daughter.

Notes:

***Trigger Warnings*** in end note.

As promised, the rescue has finally begun! Thank you sticking with the story this far <3 <3 <3

Peter stood about fifty feet out from the outer boundary of the “shack” that the Nogitsune could feel Stiles in. The dark kitsune within him whispered in his mind, “Under. Under is our Alpha.”

Nodding outwardly to the voice within, Peter took the chance of texting Ethan as he was unsure if the other kitsune would listen to their instincts: UNDER THE SHACK.

He trusted Ethan to understand the implication of the shack being the entry point. It may be a problem, but they would deal. At the moment, issue one was the set of guards patrolling the shack in uneven patterns. However, perhaps their silence would offer a window of attack.

Seconds later he got the text that the other group was in place as planned. Peter immediately wanted to break his phone, but remembered at the last second about his words to Ethan about texting him when to enter. Peter looked at the phone. Did he want more back up or did he want to avoid risking their ability to get out? He didn’t think he could bare losing Cora and Kira was likely woefully unprepared for what they were doing. After a second or so more, Peter shot off a text that he hoped they got:

You’re our route out, not backup.

Not wanting to risk taking too much more time let lone deal with any possible argument, Peter broke his phone for in case it could somehow be traced even as a burner phone.

Peter looked to Chris, whispering, “Didn’t happen to bring a knife, did you?”

Chris’ face pinched some as he quietly nodded. He also sighed in frustration, likely at so unnecessary a question.

Looking to the others, Peter whispered, “Hold.”

Duke and Erica nodded, so Peter knew the fellow Alpha and pack beta would make sure everyone (aka Scott) stayed put and quiet.

Motioning with his chin for Chris to follow, Peter ever so quietly moved, having already picked which patrolling group to hit first. Once behind one of the three in the group closest to the pack with Chris, Peter quickly ripped out one throat and then another while Chris slit the last one’s throat. All of it occurring quickly and silently as to neither alert the last nor next patrol team.

Then, Peter and Chris quickly puled the bodies into the shrubbery about ten feet from the patrol path as well as ten feet from where Erica, Deuc, and Scott were waiting. It would’ve been ideal to not leave behind a blood trail of smears, but they knew this whole thing wouldn’t be perfect.

Looking about and confirming the solid hole in the patrol rotation made, Peter signaled for the rest of his group to join him.

Peter trusted the other group to follow the pattern in their own ways as Scott, Erica, and Duke joined him and Chris. Quietly, they opened the shack door to find what Peter had half expected: an elevator that appeared to engulf all the space within the ‘shack.’ All of them stepping into it, Peter looked at the key code and then at Chris.

The hunter as well as son of Gerard in Chris seemed to have a clue at the code, so he punched it in. The code worked, which both made Peter grateful and renewed his suspicion of Christopher.

The hunter shrugged and muttered quietly. “Date of his first kill.”

Peter filed that tidbit away. What, perhaps, had Gerard killed? That date was a long time ago. Chris would’ve been a small child. Maybe a toddler? Interesting little nugget in Peter’s mind. Maybe it would be useful later?

Everyone moved to the far sides of the elevator for in case it opened into a room teaming with hunters (not that the edges inside of the elevator were big enough for that to really work). There were no words, yet outside of Scott, they were all on the same page—moving as one in a sense. It did bother him though that Chris synced with them in this moment. Peter wasn’t sure if that would turn out to be a good or a bad thing when all was said and done.

Thankfully, when the elevator opened, it did not open to teams of hunters. Seemingly, the hunters felt secure to some degree with their systems of security on the outside. Plus, Peter would bet Gerard counted this as far enough out and away from their last headquarters as well as from Beacon Hills that they would be undisturbed. The monster knew that tracking this place down was neigh impossible.

However, they didn’t know Stiles. The hunters didn’t know their Alpha. He was full of surprises.

Peter could not help but to grin at that thought. It was hard to keep his mind away from his worries for Stiles, but the older man knew he had to. They were in a hornet’s nest and feelings as well as fears wouldn’t help with this night, help this work. Peter just hoped they were here in time.

They HAD to be here in time. Peter could not bear losing another Alpha, another person he cared for to these monsters. It was more than he could handle this time. There was no coming back from the places this would send him.

Slipping out of the elevator, Peter signaled for the group to break down further. Although it was far from ideal, Peter took Chris and Scott with him to the right and sent Deucalion and Erica to the left. Peter at least knew wolf on wolf would be a better fit than an idiot and or a hunter with the young or the spiteful.

The groups moved slowly along the single hallway that the elevator opened to. They could all feel as they moved that the ground was fairly sturdy but also tilted down, like they were descending into hell. In a way, such a thought was far too apt.

Barely restraining a sigh and eye roll at what he was saddled with, Peter got moving.

Peter did appreciate how quiet Chris was. The hunter moved with slightly bent knees in preparation, in a way, to lunge forward or back. He still had his knife out from dealing with the patrol. It seemed he had taken the warning of their intent to heart, choosing a silent weapon as well as one that was good for close quarters.

Scott was a bit more fumbling, but whatever worked Peter supposed. Who knew? Maybe the idiot boy could be good cannon fodder? Not that Peter expected to do that as he doubted Stiles would be forgiving of that.

However, Peter’s attention was drawn to smells on the air. The Wolf’s Bane was present, as expected, though it did not seem to be being pumped into the air like it had been when they had rescued Deuc. No, this was the scent of Wolf’s Bane on and in weapons, used like dressing on all of the murder toy salad in this place.

There were also blood scents that were getting stronger as they moved. While there were bits of other scents like piss, decomposition, mistletoe, sweat, and more, the blood smell blended with terror and anger were the strongest.

Looking to the others who could smell what was on the air, Peter noted that Scott looked terrified with wide moist eyes. His face also had an expression of struggle. The teen was clearly having an issue keeping himself together. Erica had moist eyes too, but otherwise held her cards close to her chest. She seemed far more focused on determination. Deucalion seemed to be struggling a hint internally, but it was hard to tell exactly what was going on in the wolfman’s mind.

Peter also took a chance to visually check on Chris as well. While the man didn’t have enhanced senses, the hunter looked quite determined himself. Peter wondered if perhaps the man really did think his father was wrong, thought kidnapping and torturing kids was wrong. Peter couldn’t be sure. There was nothing like the last name Argent to make Peter struggle to see anything but the murder of his loved ones, his family.

After getting a gage on everyone, Peter held up his arm to stop everyone’s movements forward. About fifteen or so feet from them was an axis point where the hall broke into multiple passages. Peter had no interest in splitting the group, so he knew he needed to be mindful of what they were here for as well as not spreading themselves out too thin. Knowing this could take a while if he used only his eyes to guide him, Peter closed them a moment to confer with the inner kitsune on directions while they were paused. It was then he opened his eyes slowly and signaled for Deuc and Erica to join them on the same side of the hallway.

Peter then leaned in and whispered to Erica and Deucalion. “You two watch behind us while we watch forward.”

With that said, Peter lead them down the left most branch off from the single hall way. They went down that hallway for about twenty feet.

Peter then took Chris’ hand despite that dark look on the hunter’s face at the action that prevented him from pulling out or firing his weapon that was attached to him, holstered to his hip. Peter then turned everyone sharply to face a wall that was quite clearly not a wall. Whoever ‘disguised’ it had clearly grown lazy about sealing the stone-colored fabric covering properly.

An error? Or a trap?

Brushing aside the fabric revealed about a foot in a door with no lock. That alone was quite concerning to Peter as the lack of concern for escape meant bad things for his Alpha and the others if any of them were in this room. Peter positioned Chris at the door as though he were one of Gerard’s men then encouraged Erica and Scott to stay as out of sight as they could between the sheet and the door while Peter and Deucalion went into the room.

Entering, Peter found the nearly gagging smells of blood, waste, and terror alongside an anger so pure it almost tasted like insanity. Peter had to pause and close his eyes. His inner wolf wanted to howl, to let go, to embrace the rage burbling up through him at the taste. He swallowed hard and, with the demon kitsune within, pushed down his insanity to a manageable level for the moment.

Peter’s own insanity and violent needs for retribution and destruction had to wait. They were here to rescue, not maim. They were here for freedom, not embracing their rawer instincts to strike out viscously against the threats all around them.

Opening his eyes slowly to see Deuc giving him a strange look that he could not focus on, Peter looked away and to where they were heading. It was then saw and moved to Stiles’ limp form tied to the fallen chair. Tilting the Stiles’ chair upright the wound on the side of Stiles’ head had a bit of blood on it but nothing major, Peter hoped.

With a look of exhaustion on his face, Stiles was so pale and weak he could double as wet paper. The pale could only be seen in brief patches as he was covered in so many bruises. Looking over the teen with a more discerning eye, Peter could see that the paleness was likely from the carvings on Stiles’ chest, arms, and back. Peter knew it had to have been Gerard and his goons that had written with knifes on him like nothing more than ‘notebook scraps.’

Stiles was coated in his own blood. From just the carvings or more, Peter didn’t feel like they had time to assess right now.

Barely containing a growl, Peter gently stroked Stiles’ face, trying to bring him to consciousness as gently as he could manage.

The second he was conscious; Stiles began screaming again and staring at them in unseeing fear as if he had been screaming before he lost consciousness.

While Duke was working double time to get Stiles loose from his chains and ropes, Peter had clamped his hand over Stiles’ mouth in time for the screams to be muffled as he began cooing quietly to his Alpha. “Shhhh, Shhhh…. it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here… I’m with you Stiles. I am here and you are safe. We’re going to get you out.”

Although he did not calm from the words being spilled into him, Stiles still passed out at all the energy the screaming was taking when paired with everything else, especially how hard breathing was likely becoming based on the black and purple bruises over his rib cage.

Peter growled subvocally for only his Alpha and Duke to hear. He then took a slow breath to not rage out and tear down everything before finding the others. He kept reminding himself, as did the Nogitsune, that they were trying to get in and out with as few causalities as possible. They were too far in to blow it all now. He even took deep breaths to regain control of himself. He needed to hold it together for his Alpha and pack. Now was no time to bend or break when he needed to be at his strongest for everyone.

With a bit of toxic tasting and smelling air in him, Peter picked Stiles up now that Duke had the teen loose. He paused a moment, surprised that Stiles’ muffled screaming elicited no response and the implications of it. He then cracked the door to speak to the other teens low enough to be only for werewolf ears, “Stiles is too weak to walk. Scott, come carry him.”

Scott nodded eagerly, clearly seeking to prove himself somehow only for his face to fall and take on a pale pallor with a look of horror at truly seeing Stiles as he took him from Peter.

The young idiot could not help but stare at the line after line of carvings into Stiles’ flesh. It was a nightmare brought forth as something all too real as were how nearly every inch of the skin visible of Stiles was covered in black and blue bruises if not completely covered in the teens own blood. Scott swallowed, visibly working not to throw up, run away, or become outright hysterical.

Peter kept to himself the snide remarks about consequences and trusting hunters to instead transfer Stiles’ unconscious body to his once brother to be carried out. Peter then left the room with Duke just behind him, not wanting to give Scott too much of a chance to spin too deep into guilt to be useful.

For a brief moment, a rare moment, Peter felt sympathy for Scott. He really was just a teenager in the end who had been forced into a dangerous and adult world by force. Peter even felt a slice of guilt himself, but he shoved it too away. They needed to get moving.

Looking around as he moved to slip out past Chris, Peter hoped the others were following. However, Chris shoved him back behind the fabric just in time it seemed. Peter went where he was shoved despite his instinct to growl about Chris’ actions, which turned out to be good.

Just then he heard someone come up to Chris and speak to him. “Step aside. I’m going to go rough up the boy before Gerard comes to ask if the kid has finally seen reason.”

Peter barely kept from laughing out loud. He could hear Chris’ heart racing. Not racing like fear though. Like anger!

Chris spoke curtly like he had a thick branch of hate up his ass. “He’ll never see reason. Kids never do.”

The other hunter laughed—actually laughed, before saying, “Well, guess he’ll learn something with what Gerard told him would come next.”

“What was that?”

The hunter laughed again. “Man, you’ve not been here long. Gerard’s gonna rape him like he did that huge Alpha he had for a—”

Things went silent with the faint sound of metal through flesh, then the collapse of a body.

Peter pushed his way out to see Chris and whatever just happened: the hunter was dead on the ground, beheaded. Chris was vibrating in rage with a manchette clutched in his hand. He looked like he was about to charge into an all-out war right then.

Gripping Chris by his upper arms, Peter tried to catch his attention. “We can’t strike back now, but we will destroy Gerard sure as we will destroy this whole complex, but not right now. We need to get the others he’s taken and get them home. Got it?”

In this moment, as Chris nodded in firmly controlled staccato, Peter couldn’t help but spare a thought to what a great wolf Chris could’ve been in another life. Peter reached up and gently gripped and lightly squeezed the back of Chris’ neck in an attempt at providing just a brief second or two of relief.

Next, Peter nodded to the body and with Deuc’s help stuffed the body into the room they had taken Stiles from. They did not bother to hide the body beyond putting him in the room with the door closed and fabric fastened like it had been when they arrived. If nothing else, the body not being out in the open could buy them time before being discovered. Again, it’d be better without the blood, but a certain amount of sloppiness was unavoidable right now.

That done, Peter took a deep breath before he waved Deuc and the teens out to join in their continued efforts to search for the others. Although it was tempting to send Stiles up to the cars, Peter didn’t trust Scott enough to do that let alone that they all really needed to stay together—strength in numbers, if nothing else.

As a consequence of the instinct to quickly grab the others and run plus the false wall of where Stiles had been only being visible by chance, Peter began running his hands along the wall on one side of the hallway as they went while Erica took the cue and did the same on the other side hall where Deuc had joined her with Chris bringing up the back and Scott with Stiles behind Peter.

The entire base while not a closet was quite small for a hunter’s base it seemed, at least so far. Then again, there had been two other hallways at least that they’d not yet explored.

Plus, where were all the hunters? This did not seem right.

Additionally, it was not lost on Peter that they’d found Stiles through the left most path.

Erica found something next and waved her arms about silently to signal as such.

Despite the temptation to smile at Erica’s rapid adaptation to the necessary silence and her growth as a wolf, Peter instead mover to her side along with the others.

Pushing aside the fabric concealer, once again the door was unlocked. Peter sighed at the strong scents of blood and disgust tinged with fear, but he had Chris stand outside the door like before. Then, Peter had Scott, Stiles, and Deuc wait between the door and the fabric covering. Cracking the door open to see who was inside, Peter motioned for Erica to join him. They walked in together to find a naked, clearly traumatized Allison with a brand on her left butt cheek of the Argent insignia and carvings up her back of a list of crimes, which included bestiality, perversion, and many others.

Keeping a growl to himself, he pointed with his chin back to the door. Peter then began moving slowly while murmuring about how they would get her and the others out breaking her out of the bindings that held her trapped.

Erica had understood his pointing and had left the room only for Chris to burst in seconds later.

Chris no longer looked cold and reserved or even as angry as before. The man looked ready to rain down hell on everything and everyone for his one and only daughter. This rage made his face red while making the rage before look like child’s play.

Peter worked to detach Allison from the chains.

When Chris touched his daughter, she startled awake, “NO! I said NO! You can’t break me!”

When she saw her Dad, Allison began crying uncontrollably.

Once Peter had her loose, Chris gathered his daughter into his arms trying to sooth her while also encouraging her to be quiet. He told her they still had one more to free: Lydia. It caused Allison to cry harder but quieter.

Stepping out from where Allison had been being kept that smelled like pain, fear, and blood, Peter rolled his shoulders like Stiles did, hoping it would calm him down like it seemed to his Alpha. Peter then peeled off his shirt before moved to Erica, getting her coat, before returning to Chris with the clothes. It wasn’t a lot, but the items were something to cover Allison’s nudity.

Chris set his daughter down to put the clothes on her.

Peter turned his back to give them a moment to do that without being watched.

When finished, Chris picked Allison back up with the coat on and zipped up with Peter’s shirt with a ripped neck pulled onto her as a loose skirt. He carried her past Peter to share, it seemed, that they were ready. Peter followed bringing the others along with to step out of the room and back through the fabric before securing the fabric like they’d never been there.

They then carried on with Peter running his hand along one side of the hallway and Erica doing the same on the other side. Now, it was Deuc covering their backs with Chris carrying Allison and Scott carrying Stiles in the middle of their slow-moving parade.

It took about fifteen feet to find another one. Past the fabric was a locked door. Peter had been starting to think that the hunters were so sure of themselves that nothing needed to be secured. Not sure what to expect on the other side, Peter used one of his claws to jimmy the lock. With Erica at his side, Peter stepped into the odd room once the door was open. The room was strangely dark until they had both fully stepped in. Then the light flicked on—motion sensors. The room was full of… nothing?

Peter frowned, stepping further in while signaling Erica to stay back. If this turned out to be a trap, he didn’t want her caught in it too. He moved around a bit before stepping near the middle noticing that the floor sound differentiated in the middle of the room. Peter felt around the floor to figure out what was there only to find a find a small, camouflaged button on the floor.

Furrowed his brow, much like his nephew, Peter signally for Erica to fully back out of the room just in case, He pressed the button, causing a flap on the ground to spring open revealing any entry point for more of the base of sorts below.

While he was tempted to go deeper, learn more about what all was here, Peter reminded himself that they weren’t here for this. Even though this screamed that there was so much more to this, he forced himself to close the hatch and leave the room. He needed to follow this hall before going below, elsewhere if they couldn’t find Lydia.

They all stepped out fully, sealing the fabric barrier behind them. They continued forward in the same movement positions for about another twenty, twenty-five feet before Erica found another fabric covering. Like with the last one, the door beyond the fabric barrier was locked. Peter tried to jimmy that door with a claw like the other, but it did not work.

Although he was uncertain Lydia was in there based on how the last locked room had panned out, Peter didn’t dare risk missing a pack member in this hell. No one deserved to be a prisoner. Peter sunk his claws into the edges of the door and ripped the door right off its hinges.

After setting the door aside, Peter and Erica entered the room. Somewhat like Stiles’ room, there was a chair in the middle of the space, but rather than anyone they recognized, there was a creature Peter’d never seen before:

*A intensely milky pale individual with enough hair on his face and body to almost rival a werewolf. However, most strikingly to Peter, were the hauntingly amber eyes with flecks of gold in them that stared pleadingly into Peter’s eyes. They were hunched over like they were trying to proect themselves though they were chained down with iron.

The creature, even with its pale and hair-covered appearance, looked to have its mouth sewn shut though it was the solidity of fog. It appeared like a good breeze would blow what they were seeing away like dust blown off a mantel.

Notes:

***Trigger Warnings*** for blood, assault, murder, discussions or rape and threatened rape of a minor.

*Domovoy from Slavic religious tradition. A fountainhead kin that is a household spirit.

Chapter 31: Escape

Summary:

Domovoy. Sensory. Gerard. ER.

Notes:

I hope the Rescue was worth the wait!

Thank you so much for reading, and Trigger Warnings are in the end note.

Peter took one more step forward before Chris entered the room.

Chris came forward, looking to Erica pointedly.

The girl sighed and put out her hands to take Allison for the moment.

Chris gave Allison to Erica before nodding his head toward the door. Then he moved up next to Peter. “What’re you thinking, Hale?”

Peter rolled his eyes at the hunter’s gruffness. The wolf knew better. Although Chris was not a nubile, doe-eyed innocence about his father, today was grinding his face into how far the depth of destruction and monstrosity the man was not only capable of but willingly partaking in, possibly finding joy in.

Nodding toward the older-looking man that also seemed to be a form of ghost, Peter spoke calmly to the creature rather than to Chris. “I’m going to set you free…”

Carefully moving forward, Peter picked the iron handcuffs and broke the connected chains from the poor creature Gerard was no doubt torturing.

The creature remained still once released. He seemed to be taking in the sensation of being released even as Peter and Chris backed away from him.

After another moment’s seeming contemplation, the creature touched the fingers of his right hand to his chin before motioning it away from him, almost like his chin was blowing a kiss to them.

Peter nodded and did the exact same back.

Chris furrowed his brows a hint. “What is that?”

Shrugging, the wolf answered. “Sign language for thank you.”

The creature stood. It then bowed to Chris and Peter each before it walked right out of the room, pausing only briefly to look sadly upon Stiles then left, evaporating into nothingness as he moved. It was amazingly anti-climactic.

Although he didn’t say it, Peter was glad Chris didn’t press him to know more about how or why Peter knew sign language of any amount. Peter did know that when all of this was over that the skill may come back up at some point. Chris didn’t tend to leave things alone too easily.

With a sigh, Peter left the room for everyone to get re-situated after the door had been closed and the fabric put back in place. With Chris again holding Allison and Scott looking more and more pale as they went, Peter was more than ready to just get Lydia and get out.

They could save whatever others that may be here when they came back. Not enough of the pack was here to take this place in force. Peter just kept reminding himself that he was here for a reason and needed to get it done.

The Nogitsune within him was wallowing in all of Peter’s mixed feelings and feeding to a fatty, overly full state. The fox was quieter right now from being so full; therefore, less arguments to be had when the creature was quite sated.

Moving forward, Peter and Erica kept running their hands along opposite sides of the hall from one another. Deuc was still watching their backs while the others were in the middle of their movements.

This time it was on Peter’s side that a fabric was concealing a door. Moving the fabric aside, Peter stepped up to a locked room. It was almost like the rooms that were locked were intended for some future plan or action beyond the obvious; however, Peter growingly felt they did not have time. Everything was too quiet, too empty.

Peter unlocked the door with a claw as he had the first door they’d found locked. He tried to focus on the now to get them through all of this safely rather than digging himself into a hole about what was going on.

Swallowing down deep his concerns as best he could, Peter looked into the room once he had the door open to let loose a sigh of relief at having found Lydia. He tried not to dwell on how almost blue Lydia was or the faint smells of bodily waste but most pointedly at the clear use of sensory deprivation.

The wolf waved to Chris and Erica to come join him, leaving Scott, Stiles, and Deuc between the fabric and door to wait. Chris brought Allison with him, gently waking her up to help. With Erica’s help untying and unchaining the red head, Peter was able to remove slowly the sensory deprivation articles on her: blindfold and sound nullifying headphones.

All the while, Allison was speaking softly, sweetly to her girlfriend.

It was clear when Lydia really HEARD her girlfriend as tears ran from her eyes like someone had turned a facet on. However, saddening everyone, Lydia somewhat hysterically asked through her sobs, “Is this real? Is Stiles dead-dead?’

“Am I dead?”

Peter had to bite back his violent feelings at teenagers having been tortured even as much as they could see, let alone what they could not see. When looking at Chris, Peter found the man seemed just as upset. It was cathartic to know he wasn’t alone. Hell, even a hunter agreed with him about how wrong this was.

Lydia was shaking uncontrollably. “Where are we?.... is this hell?”

Barely stopping himself from howling in rage at the moment, Peter swallowed it down, feeling like he was forcing glass shards down his throat.

Then, the wolf had a horrible thought, a thought he’d been having for most of their time down here, he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. “Has anyone heard any guards?”

Everyone shook their heads no, even Scott who seemed destroyed by seeing his ‘brother’ so damaged.

Scott, despite all he was seeing, whispered. “We’re going to keep going, right?”

Rolling his shoulders, Peter looked to the teen. “No. We’re back-tracking.”

Scrunching his face some, Scott said, “But there could be others! We need to save—"

Peter rounded on Scott. “No! Stiles may be dying… we need to regroup.”

The older wolf left out that with no guard noise that they needed to run for it as best they could before whatever trap they were in was clapped shut. Peter motioned for them all to leave and be quick about it. He bent his knees some and scooped Lydia up off her feet.

Concerningly, Lydia didn’t argue or say word one against being lifted—let alone by Peter after all he’d done—and she curled into him, burying her face in his shoulder. The fiery red head seemed like her flames were wetted down. At the very least, she seemed notably overwhelmed.

Carefully, Peter transferred Lydia into Erica’s arms before taking point. He led them back the way they had come with caution, but he also felt like he was racing the snapping of a trap, the book closing.

Meanwhile, Chris carried a barely conscious Allison behind Peter. Next, Erica was carrying Lydia who was audibly crying into her friend’s shoulder. Scott, carrying Stiles, was just a beat behind Erica even as he visibly struggled with them leaving without checking for who or whatever else may be in the facility. Deuc brought up the rear.

Getting all the way back to where the elevator doors were, Peter was less surprised than he wanted to be at Gerard and at least a dozen hunters standing between the pack and the elevator. It seemed to be a quickly thrown together trap for them even if not as daunting as the planned trap they’d faced in rescuing Deuc. However, they had more wounded with them this time.

As Peter backed up closer to those being carried to protect them, Gerard spoke, “Oh, how sweet? You brought back the prisoner you took.”

Peter noted the youth of all the hunters outside of Gerard—of course the man sought out the young and impressionable to carry out his dark deeds while jacked up on their own testosterone, false morality, and mistaken sense of immortality. Grateful to not have a teen in his hands, Peter openly rolled his eyes to draw most if not all of Gerard’s holier-than-thou attention to himself. “What? Think I’m here to trade?”

Gerard frowned. “Trade? No. If it were, I would know you were even more crazed than before. Who would trade having a real, live Nogitsune for some Alpha werewolf that I’ve already claimed?”

At the word ‘claimed,’ Gerard winked at Duke.

The Demon Wolf growled low but did not move an inch. He had to have known the moment was make or break.

Peter took a solitary step forward. “Funny story that—how do you even know you have a Nogitsune, let alone a kitsune of any kind?”

In words so quiet only Chris beside her and the wolves could hear, Allison cuddled in closer to her Dad as she said, “Drop me when it starts. I can take it.”

Gerard frowned. He then seemed to rally and straighten up. “So like a wolf to try a—”

Gerard didn’t get to finish his smug words, not only because some of the hunters had rushed to slip behind the pack at that moment, but the elevator behind Gerard also opened to reveal Kira, Cora, and Ethan with the latter two already partially shifted while Kira drew her blade.

Chris also took two shots to his right leg from behind as one of the young hunters fired their weapon in response to wolves arriving on the elevator, but other than blood scent on the air Chris gave nothing away.

All at once, Chris dropped Allison as she had said he could, and he turned on a dime to immediately start firing on the hunters who had gotten behind them.

Deucalion charged Gerard, jumping over a young hunter who tried to get in the way to literally slam his entire body—claws first—into the old hunter.

Peter took the opportunity to quickly slam himself into the young hunters trying to attack Duke. He made quick work of shredding them with Cora and Kira’s help while Ethan charged into helping Chris finish off those he had taken to shooting

Having made quick work of those there while taking more than a bullet or two, Peter pulled Duke off the ground meat that was what was left of Gerard. Even though the hunter was already dead, Peter kept his eyes on him as he asked Ethan, “How many patrols are left out there?”

Ethan gave a wolfish grin. “Maybe none. Probably none.”

At the same time, Chris did some quick first aid on himself and then picked Allison back up.

Peter grinned and nodded. He then pointed with his chin toward the elevator. “Get the wounded on first. Ethan go with. We’ll head up next.”

Once only Cora, Kira, Deucalion, and him were left with the bodies, Peter dug around through the bodies until he found a match and a lighter: he had plans even though based on the blood scents others in their group had been hit with bullets and knives too, but this was important.

Sharing a look with Cora, Peter began lighting Gerard on fire at multiple points after Cora had nodded her blessing in a sense at Peter’s intent.

Once the body was fully alight, Peter, Cora, and Duke wordlessly got on the returned elevator.

As the last of them stepped out of the elevator, Chris whispered, “Hurry…I’m sure there are more on their way. A lot more. Gerard never believed there was such a thing as too much.”

Kira looked thoroughly out of her depth among them, but she showed no signs of giving up or slipping into a panic.

A bit proud of Kira keeping it together on such short notice, Peter didn’t bother questioning Chris right this moment. He then took Stiles from Scott’s shaking hands, and they all as quickly and quietly as possible while trying not to jostle the wounded any more than they had to, headed for the vehicles they all hoped had gone unnoticed.

As they worked to get to the vehicles, shouts and gunfire could be heard behind them all. It seemed Chris had called it right. The ruckus pushed them to move faster.

Where the wolves could move faster, Peter intentionally fell back some to scoop up Kira. She yelped at being lifted but Peter figured it would get them there faster as she was still coming into her abilities. She was new to this all, afterall.

Once to the vehicles, Peter swallowed hard while setting Kira down. “Okay, Erica, we’re going with Allision, Lydia, and Stiles in Chris’ truck. He’ll drive while we’re all in the back. We’re heading straight to the hospital. When we get closer to town I’ll get ahold of Melissa, then Noah. The rest of you? Derek’s SUV. Start pulling out whatever bullets you’ve taken and burn off what Wolf’s Bane you can. Hit Derek’s loft first for first aid. From there, text me. Before we go any further, everyone grab your phones, etc that we left in the vehicles.”

After everyone grabbed their stuff and nodded, everyone loaded into the vehicles.

--------------------------------------------------------------

However, Peter’s having Chris drive was amended. Chris had been shot and needed more first aid before he would be up to driving. As a result, Christ took the first aid materials he kept in his truck’s back toolbox out to fix himself up while he sat in the back with the teenagers and gave them what aid he could with Erica helping as an odd sort of assistant while Peter drove.

Allison had to sit at an odd angle on her knees so as to allow her butt cheek wound to be cleaned and bandaged as best it could be in the field while at the same time Ally held onto Lydia. It was an odd balancing act, but Ally knew Lydia needed her help to feel like this was real, like they were both there.

Not too long later, Peter pulled over to switch places with Chris. Although Peter had quicker reflexes, Chris’ speeding would possibly be more reasonable and accepted as opposed to what Peter would push for the truck to endure beyond its standard means. However, Chris wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t even finished dealing with his own wounds. He’d been focused on the Allison first.

Ally watched Peter move to the other car, talking to them for a moment. She didn’t get too hooked on any given thought right that moment. At least until she saw Peter motioning for Erica to hop out of the back of the truck just as she helped Chris finish the butt bandage while Peter also was bringing Scott to the truck, then she felt a distinct temptation to slug the idiot. However, she kept it to herself as well as whispering a near silent thank you to the universe that Scott was going to be his idiot self in the cab of the truck and not in the back anywhere near her OR Lydia.

Since the other vehicle pulled over too, Peter tapped Scott to drive. Him being freaked out would look good for the speeding too, so thus it was set up. Ethan and Cora were joined by Erica while Peter took Scott with them to drive. Peter also got into the cab of the truck, bringing Stiles with him while leaving the girls in the back of the truck with Chris.

Allison held Lydia’s hand in the back of the truck. She had her back to her father for his efforts to clean and bandage her back as best he could, having done her butt cheek before the vehicle had been pulled over.

Although her father was causing pain with his cleaning out of her wounds, Allison kept her full attention on a still shaking Lydia. She kissed her girlfriend’s hands softly while fighting to hide the pain from showing on her face.

Ally really hoped that this was the last time her own family would turn on her and those she cared about. Even though the situations were different, Allison hoped she wouldn’t end up as bitter about her family as the Hales were. She shook her head at herself.

She was comparing the loss of a huge family, of a whole big pack to her losses. While the losses were great in her mind, she could not conceive of surviving losing more, let alone the number of people lost in the Hale fire.

A fire her aunt caused with her grandfather’s blessings. Worse? She knew she was not even remotely in on all the information of what all happened around that. God, she hoped her extended family wasn’t this crazy.

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In Chris Argent’s truck only a few minutes from crossing the city line…

Scott was visibly pale at being permitted to drive Chris’s vehicle at all.

Meanwhile Chris was in the very back beside his daughter, keeping them together with their legs touching each other to comfort his daughter while also digging the two bullets that hit him out of his right leg. Once he had the last one out, he began to bandage himself.

Scott’s bullet wounds had already had the bullets dug out and the Wolf’s Bane burned out by Peter.

Peter’s wounds had not been touched. Peter didn’t care. He had Stiles in his arms, his Alpha. He had the most important, precious thing right now: Stiles. Peter only had a bullet or two and cuts laced with bits of Wolf’s Bane anyways, so as long as he didn’t start showing them off, his own wounds could be handled out of sight at the hospital.

He was mostly grateful he had remembered to call Melissa before getting this close to town. She was with the Sheriff still like Peter’d requested so communication had bridged between them all better than it may have otherwise.

Stiles was breathing but struggling, strained.

Peter was worried. It looked dark—mostly through the weight of lack of knowing while seeing too much to conjure any certainties.

Deep down, Peter couldn’t deny that he was genuinely terrified. Firstly, he knew he couldn’t bear losing another Alpha who had built a form of family with him in it. Second, and possibly more importantly, Peter knew in that moment that he cared for Stiles as more than his Alpha beyond even what the kiss they had shared meant.

King of bad timing it seemed, Peter hadn’t let himself think it, see it before. He moved himself around a bit in the seat to place his hand on the small of Stiles’ back and splayed out his hand for a solid connection to let the dark kitsune return to him, but nothing came in the form of the kitsune literally moving in or out of him or even speaking to him.

Peter furrowed his brow. He wanted suddenly to make demands, but he knew the dark kitsune had a vested interest in the current situation, so Peter knew that it had to be for a reason that the kitsune didn’t share, like Stiles needing more healing.

However, the kitsune revealed that Stiles wasn’t letting him in at all. That was why the kitsune could not share—it didn’t know, it kept trying but couldn’t get out of Peter and into Stiles at all right now.

The vehicle swerved. Chris starred daggers at the back of Scott’s head. “Try NOT to kill us all.”

Scott seemed to steady the vehicle, but he didn’t respond to Chris. It seemed all of Scott’s focus was on driving and not breaking down into hysterics.

Lydia was quiet. She had been struggling with this being real even up to and including getting to leave the hell hole the pack had gotten them out of. She was just quiet—too quiet. While the girl had never been a total chatter box, she did have more to say in emergency situations than this, but while she would answer direct questions she otherwise was mostly in her own mind.

They all knew the moment they had reached the hospital not due to seeing it out the window or out the side of the truck but from Scott suddenly slamming on the breaks.

Everyone quickly shuffled out as best they could as the vehicle stilled.

With his wounds hidden, Chris picked up Allison to take her in as her legs were weak and he knew she had to be held carefully due to the carving into her back and branding on her butt that was so tender that even covering it hurt too much to be realistic, but she had allowed it anyways.

Peter slipped right out of the Truck after setting Stiles down in the seat beside him, and then took Stiles to carry him in. Scott stayed in the vehicle for the moment, not wanting to be dealing with the hospital for the moment it seemed.

But, seconds later, Scott forced himself to scurry out of the vehicle to help move Lydia out by picking her up, but the second his face was before hers, Lydia slapped Scott across the face with the rest of her energy.

He sheepishly whimpered and looked away before helping her now mostly sapped of fight form out the vehicle with lifting her up even as she muttered cuss words at him with what she had left even though she didn’t look so great.

Once inside, Peter watched everything go into a flurry. It would seem Melissa had called ahead. Then again, as Mel was out of breath but there, perhaps she was just great at setting things in motion rapidly. Who was to say at this point? It didn’t really matter too much right this second.

The three tortured teens were quickly moved onto stretchers and then shuffled away.

Mel then, likely to hold the story together, hugged Peter. “Thank you for finding them.”

Peter found it surreal as Mel hugged and thanked him. Not bothering to focus on remembering what the story was to cover the situation, Peter gripped firmly but not too hard Mel’s arms, holding her just a bit away from him. He flashed his blue eyes at her while whispering to her. “Go check on Stiles and stay with Lydia. He’s out but make sure they check his head—he could have a concussion. And Lydia’s not sure she’s really here at all.”

Mel frowned at his flashing eyes and words, but she gave a brief nod of understanding.

Letting go of Mel, Peter nodded faintly to himself as he watched her hurry off to be with his pack mates. He took a slow breath, listening to his surroundings. Keeping himself from flashing his eyes anymore, Peter took solace in Argent being able to at least be with Allison. Sadly, Stiles’ Dad wasn’t here yet, and Lydia’s Mom had not been called yet.

Struggling to keep himself from forcing his way to be at Stiles’ side, Peter looked to Scott. “Do you have Lydia’s Mom’s number?”

Scott shrugged. “Not really, but I may be able to get it? I’ll call Erica.”

Peter shook his head and ran a hand up and down his arm to comfort despite his role in how this started. “No, I’ll deal with it. Right now, I just want you to check in on the other car and Cora. I’ll call Derek to check on things at the Stilinski house.”

Scott nodded and left to head for the vehicle.

Peter slipped quietly into a hospital storage closet to hide in for a moment to deal with his wounds that he hadn’t even really noticed receiving at the time. It had been like he was untouched in the instants when the wounds must have been made. He kept the pain of removing bullets to himself as well as burning off the Wolf’s Bane.

Once his wounds were dealt with, Peter finished up his healing then stepped out of the closet. He next pulled out his cell phone and called Derek while heading to check on Boyd, Aiden, and Isaac.

Notes:

***Trigger Warning*** Violence, gore, reference to violence, reference to rape, and reference to character deaths/murder

Chapter 32: Assault & Healing?

Summary:

Melissa. Stilinski house. Hospital. Cops. ER.

Notes:

Thank you for still reading <3

Trigger's in End note.

Beacon Hills, Stilinski house after Peter and the others left to rescue Stiles, Lydia, and Allison…

Melissa had set some tea water to boil about an hour after the others had left. The coffee had already been going, but she felt there needed to be plenty of options. Who was to say what anyone would want when everyone re-convened here?

Absently, Mel also considered making sandwiches, but figured that was something that could be ordered out for when everyone got back. She hoped against the odds that all the kids were just fine. She needed to hold to some level of hope. She felt it was part of how she’d managed to cope with this whole world of the supernatural she had been brought into, even if only a taste.

She also hoped that Derek may perk up for some tea. She had offered him iv of fluids to help him out, but the bulky kid was a no-go on that, so she would just have to hope some tea would help. “Derek? Would you like some tea?”

While the water was nearing boiling, Melissa pulled out the available tea selections: green, earl grey, breakfast blend, and a nearly empty so-called ‘energy’ blend. It was less than ideal in terms of selection, she knew, but something was better than nothing.

Once all the options were set on the kitchen counter, Melissa noted that Derek had not replied. She hoped it was due to him sleeping. Moving further into the livingroom, she found that was only partially the case.

Derek was just sitting on the livingroom couch looking far less than comfortable as Adrian was napping on the couch with his feet on Derek. The older werewolf looked worn out, but he stayed awake nonetheless. He seemed a statue in a sense.

Melissa moved to stand in front of Derek and put her hands on her hips. “Derek, you need rest.”

Derek looked to her. “I’m fine.”

Shaking her head, Melissa continued. “Obviously not. I asked you about tea, and you did not respond. Either you didn’t hear me or you are too tired to be polite and answer. You need rest.”

Rubbing his face with his hands first, Derek looked to her. “Sorry, but I’m fine. Told Adrian I’d watch over things as he napped.”

Melissa sighed. She knew the sheriff was upstairs in the shower, but she still could not stand unnecessary suffering. “Derek, rest or at least have some tea or coffee. You’re burning yourself at both ends. That is not sustainable.”

She reached out and moved Adrian’s feet off of Derek then offered Derek a hand. “Please, come on. Let me make you a sandwich while you get yourself some coffee or set up some tea, okay?”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed, but he accepted Mel’s hand and got up. He even followed her as with his hand in hers as she led him into the kitchen. After she let his hand go and provided him a mug, Derek got to setting up some tea in the cup: green tea.

Melissa got some stuff out of the fridge and began making the meatiest sandwich she could manage with the available supplies. She even offered, while making the sandwich. “Want some sugar? Cream? Other? For your tea, I mean.”

Derek seemed to almost smile as his brows relaxed some it seemed. “No, thank you.”

She was surprised that everyone had been so quiet since the others had left. However, Melissa forced her mind back on track. Taking care of others was part of what caused her to go into nursing. She wanted to help others feel better and offer a caring hand no matter the outcome.

Oddly enough, Melissa’s drive to care for others, to be there to help them in thick and runny, was part of what caused her to reexamine her perspective on Peter. Several days of the week, every week, Peter was there at the hospital too. He was providing the comfort he did not get when he had been in a coma. That he sought to help, sought to lighten the burden of the comatose really made an impact on her.

Their bits of banter with one another didn’t hurt either. He didn’t seem to judge, but rather he just listened and was there for her. He seemed to have gone through some serious changes to turn a bordering on snide and sometimes cruel person into someone who cared for others, someone who worried for others. Melissa would never deny it was a good look on him. It was certainly better than his past crueler side by a hundred leagues or more.

Regardless of how he used to be, Peter’s genuine caring for those in the hospital really meant so much more than Peter seemed to realize. Melissa rolled her eyes internally at herself. Now was not the time for examining how Peter had changed.

She had a job to do. Melissa needed to be ready for if medical help was needed. And, for the moment, she also was looking after a werewolf who did not seem too concerned right this moment with self-care at all.

Hearing Derek having finished preparing his tea and retreat back into the livingroom, Melissa finished up the sandwich she was making and brought it to Derek. As he looked up to her from where he had returned to his station on the couch, Melissa handed him the plate with a sandwich on it. “Please make sure to eat this as well for in case we need your strength.”

Seeming to blush at the tips of his ears, Derek just nodded and accepted the plate.

Melissa smiled but then got back to the kitchen. She presumed both Noah and Adrian wouldn’t mind a bite to eat themselves, and as a result began making each of them a sandwich. With coffee already hot, she knew Noah would be fine in terms of a drink, but Adrian? The kid was so baby-faced he looked too young for coffee. So, once the sandwiches were finished, Melissa got the teen a can of soda for when he woke.

As the sheriff came down the stairs, dressed from head to toes and ready for whatever the day brought, Melissa sat a cup of hot coffee and a plate with a sandwich on it at the dining room table for him. Then, she got the soda can and the other plated sandwich and put them on the table.

She hated to mess with someone’s sleep, but Adrian too needed to eat. Melissa then spoke aloud, “Derek, would you please wake Adrian. I have some food for him on the table. Once he’s up, you can join us all at the table or stay where you currently are, okay?”

Melissa spoke as gently as she could while firmly since Derek looked hesitant. “Adrian? You need to get up and get some food in you.”

Adrian startled a bit as he woke to look semi-alertly to Melissa. “What?”

Mel smiled. “There’s food for you at the table.”

After climbing off the couch, Adrian went to sit at the dining room table. He then began to practically inhale his sandwich and soda.

Wearing a kind smile, Mel fixed herself some coffee. Melissa was off work, so normally she would be on decaf right now, but with everything going on, Mel knew she needed to be alert. The more on it she was the better.

With a nice hot mug of coffee in her hands warming them despite there being no real cold to warm against, Melissa walked to the fridge to check what there may be inside for a possible throwing together of a dinner depending on how this all went. As it was, she nor anyone else seemed to know how long all of this would take or even what all may happen. Plus, what if order out was something no one wanted? She may need to be ready on the fly for hungry teens and werewolves.

Mel closed the refrigerator door and made it three steps away before Derek shouted.

“GET DOWN!”

Adrian was down and under the dining room table in seconds.

Derek had shoved away his own chair and was crouched out of sight of the window nearest him.

Noah was a bit slower, but he still threw himself off his chair and onto his side while reaching for his service weapon in its side holster as he wore it at work.

Melissa immediately crouched down. She had no idea what Derek had seen or heard, but she was not so foolish as to disregard important information.

They all waited for a few tense minutes.

For Melissa, everything was slowed to the spaces between her inhales and exhales. It was so incredibly slow yet nearly too tense to bear too much longer. What were they even waiting for? What may be coming?

She suddenly felt so ill prepared. Mel thought all they had been waiting on was the return of the others, but with Derek’s barked orders, it seemed a rescue was not the only thing on the agenda today. Maybe they’d get lucky and this was a false alarm?

Then, something was thrown through the front window of the livingroom.

Before anyone could even think to wonder what it was, smoke started billowing out of it.

Derek’s growl was felt rattling her very bones beyond her just hearing it. Melissa stayed low and listened. She knew others had more experience with this than her, right? Then again, what experience were they even having?

Derek growled again. He then ripped off his own shirt and quickly ripped and folded it into a face mask his tied over his face and nose.

Without any verbal words shared, Adrian quickly followed suit.

Derek then motioned for Noah and Melissa to do the same.

Melissa’s eyes went wide but at the same time had grabbed some nearby dishtowels. She folded and tied them together to make her own face mask to protect herself without exposing her flesh any more than she may come to have to.

Noah too followed suit, pulling off his own shirt to reveal his white undershirt and folding it into a mask even as the smoke was starting to invade the dining room and filling the first floor.

Still able to see with the thick smoke Noah fumbling with his shirt, Melissa, still holding her coffee slid her way as quickly and safely as she could forward. She set aside her coffee and gently slapped away Noah’s hands so she could help him tie the shirt onto his face.

Mel then picked up her coffee—it was the closest thing to a weapon she had, at the moment, so she was in no rush to lose touch of it. She then remembered something. Peter had mentioned to her forever ago it felt right now, that they’d had a break in here and that Stiles had taken some precautions for if someone tried again in the future.

Holding her cup still, Mel pulled on Noah’s arm to get him to follow her. She stayed down, walking in a crouch while using one hand to feel around trying to find one or both of the werewolves.

Noah followed suit by crouch walking behind her, keeping one hand on Melissa’s left shoulder while his other had his gun drawn and ready to fire.

Melissa found what she believed to be Adrian as the person was partially under the table. Once she had a bit of a grip on the tense shoulder she found, Mel spoke quietly to sooth and assure in some way. “Shhh… it’s me.”

The smoke was too thick now to see things even right in front of her face. Regardless, she took Noah’s hand from her shoulder to touch what she suspected more firmly was Adrian. Mel then whispered. “Where’s Derek?”

Adrian even through a bit of shaking said, “Not sure. He moved fast.”

Mel nodded even though no one could see her. She then looked in the vague direction of Noah as she whispered. “I need to get to the couch. Know the way?”

Noah groaned faintly, something almost like a chuckle were the situation different. Noah took Adrian’s hand and put it on Mel’s shoulder. He then took Mel’s hand and put it on his own shoulder. With everyone touching, Noah led them all in crouch walking toward where he knew the couch had to be even as they all could hear multiple people entering the house from both the front and back.

Once he had them to the couch, Noah guided Mel’s hand from his shoulder to the couch.

Melissa smiled to herself and set the cup of coffee safely aside for the moment. She then reached under the couch to see how well she really knew Stiles. The teen had partially grown up in her own house after all.

While Noah, Adrian, and Melissa were at the back of the couch, everyone could hear the people who had entered destroying things and flipping them over. One, who had to be close behind them could be heard flipping the dining room table with help.

Hearing steps getting closer, Melissa put her hand on Noah’s weapon to stop him from shooting yet. Slowly standing up with her cup of hot coffee in hand even though she was sure everyone would think she was crazy, but she knew Noah couldn’t just randomly open fire safely here. After one more deep breath and hearing two people getting too close for comfort, Melissa tossed the hot coffee from her cup at what was in front of her as she dropped back down then threw the coffee cup in that direction as well.

There were two pissed off yells over the being hit with hot coffee. Then quickly one of them was hit somewhere with the coffee cup, speaking with a shockingly monotone voice, “FUCK! Kill ‘em! No survivors, remember?”

However, all the noise had clearly offered a better target, allowing the Sheriff, Noah to begin shooting. His first shot definitely hit someone as there was a loud angry shout about it.

The next couple shots seemed to do more than just hit someone as it sounded like a body collapsed to the floor.

Mel hoped it was a bad person since she really couldn’t see a damn thing. She then grabbed the three things she had found under the couch: Stiles’ barbwire wrapped bat, a short knife, and some brass knuckles that felt weird.

Mel shook her head at herself. She pushed the brass knuckles into Adrian’s hand for him to be able to use. The short knife struck her as not so handy, but since it had a sheath, she tucked it into her pant pocket. Melissa then felt for Noah and leaned toward him to whisper—“I’m gonna try to get the smoke out as best I can.”

She then took Stiles’ bat into her hands, taking a deep breath before standing up again and moving and feeling out for the wall. A moment later, she felt a grip on her shoulder.

Adrian then whispered to her, “I’m with you a moment.”

Once she had the wall to her side with Adrian’s hand still on her shoulder, Mel kept her eyes sharp (despite how useless that seemed in the thick smoke) and listened as best she could as she followed blindly to a wall she believed to be on the far side from the stairs.

When she found the wall, Adrian gave her shoulder a gentle double squeeze before letting her go and heading the opposite direction if she were to venture a guess.

Next, she followed the wall toward the kitchen that should be to the opposite direction of the couch. Once to what she was guessing was the middle of kitchen, Melissa used one hand to feel about for the sink. Once she found it, she set the bat aside and reached out. She managed to push the kitchen window open before being yanked back HARD and slammed into the stove.

A squeak of a cry escaped her on impact with the stove and then again with her impact on the ground. With nothing to defend herself, Melissa thankfully only had to worry for a moment as she felt a quick rush of air pass her.

Then from within feet of her, Melissa heard a neck snap. She wasn’t sure if that was good or not, so she scrambled away toward the back door. Once there, from a crouched position, Melissa shoved the back door open. Not sure what else to do to hold the door open, Melissa followed the door in its out swing to grab some boots someone had left outside to wedge the door open and keep it open. She then slowly crouch-walked her way back in, knowing doing hands and knees would wreck her knees. She stayed low and hopefully out of the way for the moment as there were on and off gun shots as well as growls and the sounds of fighting getting louder and louder.

She did not want to be involved in any of that as she would most likely just be in the way and was already regretting the loss of the bat that while she wasn’t necessarily in a rush to use had felt safer with it. It was after all the McCall special, the bat.

While she could’ve spent her time working on getting the bat back, Mel was too practical for that and kept moving while crouched, following along the counters, then the wall, the side of the stairs. Once she had the stairs, she felt her way around to stand and head up the stairs at a quiet but quick pace. She needed as much air flow as possible in the house. She’d not heard anyone use the stairs and was hoping she was right about that.

Once to the top of the stairs, the smoke was not as thick. She could actually somewhat see. She then, while still working to be careful and quiet went into the guest room first and opened the window there. She then repeated her actions to open all of the upstairs windows. However, the last window she did was Stiles’ and it stuck a bit, so she did end up making a bit of a racket getting it open.

Hearing someone heading her way, Mel moved to hide behind the bedroom door that was already open. She heard the person kick open the guest room door, starting there to look it seemed. Hearing them tear up the guest room in their efforts, Mel slipped out of Stiles’ room as quickly and quietly as she could.

She quietly made her way down the stairs into a still very smokey downstairs, and then she had her hand on the wall again. Still hearing people fighting downstairs still as well as the noise upstairs, Melissa focused on getting to the front door and not getting caught in the fighting. She had to get the smoke out before it caused long term damage to anyone.

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Beacon Hill’s hospital ten minutes later…

Aiden whispered as he moved quietly. “A hunter’s coming, we should move behind the curtain.”

Boyd followed along begrudgingly while whispering back. “How can you tell?”

Aiden didn’t answer; instead, he put a finger to his lips to single quiet.

Part of what made cooperation even possible to consider was that they weren’t outright leaving Isaac. Rather they pulled the curtains a bit as though there was a second patient in Isaac’s room even though Derek had paid for the other bed in the room to remain empty.

Boyd couldn’t deny that Derek cared. How he showed it, even how he trained them had gotten better since he and Erica had left then returned. To be honest though, a lot of what changed was the training. Derek still was not overly affectionate, nor did he tend to show it too much overall how much he cared even though Boyd was sure the man did care.

Behind the curtain with Aiden, Boyd wondered what the plan was—he was sure there had to be one. Aiden still needed the protection of being in the pack, so he had to know letting Isaac die would end that. Regardless, they waited.

Keeping his breaths as quiet as he could, Boyd waited and could not help but think about Stiles—"the boy who ran with wolves” as the hunters had called him. Boyd felt like that title was wrong, not that he considered hunters generally accurate anyways, but he still felt like Stiles deserved the respect of being known as what he really was even if Boyd was not quite sure what to call that beyond Alpha.

To be fair though, Boyd understood Stiles keeping his title, his place in the pack quiet. Why provide a way to hurt the pack and its members more with the truth getting around? That could be disastrous!

Then, Boyd heard the hunter and understood why Aiden had known by just the sound: the man was whispering under his breath to himself. “After this one, even if the teen Alpha escapes, there will be nothing to come back to.”

Boyd felt his claws immediately emerge and his teeth drop his fangs. He didn’t move but he was much angrier now than before. Not only was the hunter here to kill a comatose teenager who appeared to be stranded, but they knew. How did they know? Was Stiles in such bad shape that he told them? Did someone betray them?

There was no time as Boyd saw Aiden signal heading out as he slipped out from behind the curtain and placed himself right behind the hunter who was pulling out his own weapon. Aiden in one fluid moment grabbed the hunter’s head and twisted, snapping the man’s neck.

Aiden then smiled darkly. After the hunter collapsed to the ground, Aiden pressed his foot to the man’s neck and pressed hard while moving his foot in a circular motion without letting up the pressure one bit it appeared, whispering, “You see, people can survive having their neck snapped if provided the proper medical care quickly enough, but grinding the wound with your foot? It snaps and damages many important pieces of the human body.”

When the hunter stopped breathing, Aiden did not stop right away.

Boyd presumed it was because faking dead would be a reasonable response to make things stop, and Aiden was making sure.

After a whole minute of grinding the man’s neck without ever breaking the skin, Aiden finally stopped. He then moved to the hospital room window. It wasn’t massive by any means, but Aiden opened the window anyways. He then grabbed the body of the dead hunter and shoved it out the window. Next, he looked to Boyd. “Go back to behind the curtain in case there was another we just have not seen yet. I’ll be right back.”

With those words in the air quietly, Aiden walked out as though nothing were wrong.

Boyd did as asked. He agreed there may be more hunters here.

Moments later, he heard someone outside. He listened hard to get a better grasp of if it was a hunter trying to slip in the window for some weird reason. Then he understood the sound. Aiden had picked up the body and was moving it so the body would not track back to Isaac’s room or any of them.

Boyd then returned to focusing his hearing to in the hospital room and any possible approaching sounds. It was tedious, but important no less. After a bit, he did hear someone coming toward the room. Claws still out but not his fangs, Boyd waited. He doubted it was a nurse or doctor as the noises that came with them were different. There was no muttering to themselves from whoever was coming. The person entered the room and before Boyd could make an effort to check, the curtains were pulled a bit and Aiden poked his head in.

Aiden smiled a somewhat disturbed smile as he fully closed the curtain for now. It seemed they were back to the waiting game as far as protecting Isaac was concerned.

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Outside the Stilinski house another ten minutes later…

Melissa coughed some, grateful she had worked to air out the house as best she could even as the others were dealing with the “intruders.”

She and the others were all standing in front of the house. A smoke grenade going off in a residential area and gun shots were not something you could easily pretend away or cover up.

Just as the police were arriving, Noah having called them in, Melissa’s phone began to go off with the song she had set as the ringtone for Peter: “Big Bad Wolf” by Nightcore. Concerned, Melissa immediately answered.

The first thing she heard was a growl and some garbled words. Then it was Peter’s voice, “We’re coming…fifteen minutes out from town limits. Stiles is hurt BAD. He has what looked like electrical burns, broken ribs, and who knows what else. Allison’s not looking amazing either.”

Melissa nodded quickly even though she knew Peter couldn’t see. But based on the edge of fear in the man’s voice, she knew it was had to be ugly. She then waved Noah over before he could talk to the others.

She whispered to him, “Stiles and Allison are not looking good. They’re all heading straight for the hospital. Anything I should tell them?”

The sheriff furrowed his brow then nodded. “They were camping as far as we know—Ally, Lydia, and Stiles—for the whole weekend to get a break from school and Stiles being bullied.”

Noah then returned to speaking with his officer’s about the break in.

Melissa took a breath and then relayed the information to Peter who merely said in response, “Got it. See you at the hospital.”

Before she could share what happened here or even decide if she should, Mel interrupted Noah talking to his officers with a genuine terror. “Noah, something went wrong with Stiles’ camping trip! I need a ride to the hospital!”

Noah looked upset and concerned as his officers hopped to without having to be told twice.

Melissa’s hands grasped Noah’s. “I’ll do everything I can. You’re needed here. I’ll update you as soon as I know what all is going on.”

Noah looked on edge of saying something but ended up just shaking his head. “Okay. I’ll get this started, and then I’ll be on my way to you.”

Melissa nodded to him while heading off with an officer.

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Emergency patient room, twenty minutes later…

Allison was laying on her stomach on the hospital bed while holding her Dad’s hand. She was shaking uncontrollably and had tears running down her face while she was bear to the world. She was flushed with embarrassment as two nurses and a doctor were looking at and cleaning the wounds on her back and butt now that they’d removed the hasty first aid done in the back of her father’s truck.

Chris held her hand securely like if he let go, she would be taken away forever in the blink of his eye.

The doctor seemed stunned by what he saw. “And, do you… I mean, how long ago did these… how long since this was done to you?”

With tears still running unhindered down her face, Allison looked over her shoulder to the doctor. “I don’t know.”

She then looked to her Dad. “How long was I gone?”

Allison looked so small and lost in that moment or at least she felt that way. She could not help but feel like this all was surreal. She could barely grasp the massive weight of her being out and free let alone having others see her like this.

If she could have her way, Ally would grab Stiles, Lydia, and the rest of the pack and all go hide away where they could all be safe together with no one being hurt and all of this just a horrible nightmare. She’d bring her Dad, too. She just wanted this all to not be real. However, that was not how reality worked. It was not how life worked.

Just like when she’d lost her Mom, nothing would quite be the same after this. Yes, she had already known her grandfather was not a good man, but this? What he’d intended to do to her? What he did to Lydia? Stiles? Her? This was too real, too painful… too everything.

Taking a deep breath, having missed her Dad’s words, Allison nodded faintly as though she had heard. “About halfway through my time the brand occurred. After that the cutting began.”

She took a slow breath and held her father’s hand tighter. Ally reminded herself that she had to be brave, and she had to keep going for those she cared about. Allison reminded herself to think of the others and not to dare give in to the temptation to kind of mentally check out or find a way of running away. She’d not shared yet, may never share what her own grandfather had intended to do to her. She wasn’t ready to put words to that much. She knew she may never be ready, let alone able, to put into words what he had said he intended to do.

How could her own grandfather be like that? Did he have no soul? No limits?

Allison then felt a sting at her own thoughts. Of course, he was like this. He’d been okay with a whole multi-generation family being burned alive! He’d been okay burning the babies who may or may not have been werewolves. Why would he treat her any different? She shamed herself some mentally at having fallen into the trap of her own privileged state.

She’d never had to be faced fully with what kind of monster Gerard was. Yes, he was evil, but the gut punch of the personal nature of the man’s cruelty had been something she’d had the privilege of not being subject to in so much quantity until now.

Allison sadly knew the answer to those questions, now. To some degree she’d known for a while. But it was still shocking how far he would go, how coolly, calmly he was while intending to rape his own granddaughter.

Suddenly, she could not help her next question: had he raped others? Probably. Why wouldn’t he? Rape was about power, and Gerard seemed to feed on anything that bolstered his own power and standing, his ego. Allision shut her eyes tight for a second before she forced them back open.

She felt in that moment that she owed every one of Gerard’s victims the respect of keeping her eyes open, of facing reality. Allison knew it was too easy to look away or “happen” not to see. She could not even risk that. She had to keep her eyes open and do something about the things she saw.

Even so, the answer in life was never the fairytale simplicity of evil is evil and good is good. No confusion, no blurred lines; however, Gerard would likely be her closest example of evil is evil. She used to think he was just her Grandpa. But now? She knew that, while genetically he was her grandfather, the man was more monster than relative, than anything else.

Unfortunately, she’d seen just a glimpse of how dark and perverse his mind was. It was cruelty of the purest form she’d ever seen. Even with knowing what her Aunt Kate had done, Allison now knew to always look to her grandfather with more fear, suspicion in her memories.

Closing her eyes, she pressed her forehead down into the hospital bed she was on. She felt the doctor and nurses cleaning out her wounds. She absently acknowledged the needle pokes of them giving her numbing medications to help, but those medications did nothing for how quickly she had to open her eyes that she’d not realized she’d closed to keep herself grounded and away from hiding in the dark or screaming until her voice was gone.

No medicine or even her hand in her fathers’ grasp could stop the images in her mind or the fear when her eyes were closed that she would never open them again to avoid the memory of being in her cell chained down while knowing what her grandfather was going to do to her, knowing even the carving was not done yet.

Tears still running from her eyes unhindered, Allison lifted her head to look to her father, asking ever so quietly, “Did they cut Lydia up too?”

Chris looked worn down, tired in a way Allison didn’t always see. “No, it didn’t look like they cut into her at all.”

Allison nodded along with his words, but also to all the things he wasn’t saying, the way he worded it… she knew Gerard had to have hurt Lydia bad. There was never going to be a version of things wherein any of them got out unscathed, but she worried that if Lydia wasn’t cut into, then what DID they do to her?

She pulled her Dad’s hand closer to her face and rubbed her cheek along his knuckles while whispering. “I think I may never sleep again.”

Even with her words out, Allison left out her concern she would hide away forever in sleep if she risked doing it even once. She would pull Lydia into rest with her to avoid reality, avoid the memories.

Chris’ face paled with all the words he wasn’t saying and emotions he wasn’t showing right this moment.

Ally took a slow breath and then asked, “If they make me stay… ‘er, will you stay right here with me the whole time?”

With a broken look washed over his face for a moment or two, Chris nodded. “Of course, I will.”

Nodding in agreement with all the words they weren’t saying, hadn’t said much since she found out about the supernatural. The words of protection and love that were implied more and more now, but not said nearly so much, especially since her mother died. Allison just held her Dad’s hand tightly as every touch and squeeze was a silent repletion of I love you and they would keep going.

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Separate emergency patient room…

Lydia was standing in the middle of the room wearing no shoes. She refused to sit under any circumstances. She would not lie down either.

Mel was by the open door to the room just inside. “Lydia? Is there anything I can do that would help?”

Lydia looked to Mel and then to the nurse who was watching the reader for the currently deflating thing around her upper arm. Shaking her head no, Lydia asked, “Is Stiles alive?”

Keeping it together, Melissa nodded. “Yes, dear. He’s alive.”

Lydia nodded as though that was new information even though she had asked numerous times since she was brought into the hospital. “When can I see him?”

The doctor took this question as he walked into the room looking old enough to have been first in line the day Christ was born. “Not yet. He’s getting help in another room. How are you doing?”

Lydia just shrugged off the question with a dismissive wave of her hand. She then looked around the room suspiciously. “Is this real?”

The doctor nodded even as the nurse looked quite concerned.

Mel seemed to swallow some words before saying “Lydia, it’s real. We’re here. You’re here. You made it out.”

Nodding in understanding, Lydia took a slow deep breath. Tears began to slide down her cheeks. “Can I see Stiles? Please? I just… I need to see, touch… know he really is alive.”

Stepping forward, Mel touched her arm. “He is, I promise.”

Lydia’s tears didn’t stop at Mel’s words as she looked beseechingly toward the doctor.

The old man looked doubtful. “Nurse, could you see if miss Martin’s request can be fulfilled?”

As the nurse left to check, Lydia had to fight closing her eyes. She didn’t want to be in the dark anymore. At the same time, her own mind was not her friend. Logically she’s not necessarily been captured for too long, but in the sensory-silent darkness? It felt like it could’ve been ages and more.

She looked to the ground for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts some. Careful not to blink, Lydia looked up and asked, “Was Allison there with us?”

With a sad look, Mel nodded.

Lydia swallowed the piles upon piles of vomit and fear that wanted to claw up and out her throat. “May I see her too?”

The doctor gave a pause, even stroking his short but thick gray beard. “I don’t see why not, but it will have to wait until we’ve finished your examination.”

Frowning, Lydia nodded and remained standing near the bed. “What else do you need from me?”

The doctor’s shoulders and back straightened as he motioned for her to stand on the scale. Once Lydia was on the scale, the doctor pulled up the portion that measured her height as he took down her weight. He then took down her height. Next, he helped her step off the scale and checked her eyes and in her ears. “For the next part, I need you to sit.”

Lydia frowned. “Or I could stand.”

The doctor shook his head. “I can keep the sitting short and you can sit down on any chair, but you do need to sit.”

Frowning harder, Lydia crossed her arms. “No… I… I need someone here from, from my family for me to sit.”

Mel understood immediately. Before the doctor could say anything one way or the other, she spoke, “I’ll pop my head out and call someone. I won’t leave the room, but I will call out.”

Lydia nodded, wrapping her arms around herself rather than keeping them crossed. While Melissa was not a part of the pack, Lydia knew Stiles trusted her. That meant so much more to Lydia right now than it had before. He had been right: knowing who to trust and who not to in advance did help in higher stress moments.

Melissa poked her head out to catch the attention of a passing nurse. “Would you please go to emergency room lobby and get one of the people here for Lydia Martin and bring them here?”

When she popped her head back into the room, Melissa nodded to Lydia to signal it was done.

It was hard for Lydia not to roll her eyes, but she managed. She knew it wasn’t fair but right now she didn’t care. The room seemed smaller and smaller the longer she was in it as she just did not feel safe. She missed feeling safe or at least not understanding truly how vulnerable she is.

Thankfully, it was only a minute or two before Erica came into the room.

Lydia felt herself relax some just by being here with another pack member—neither of them tied or chained. Both were free. With tears running down her face, Lydia moved to Erica, pulling her into a hug. Lydia even nuzzled into Erica’s shoulder for further comfort. “Thank you.”

Erica looked surprised at the response she got, but she held on firmly in the hug no less.

Notes:

Trigger warning for home break in, assault, mention of assault, mentions & evidence of torture, mentions of rape, talk of death

Chapter 33: Next step

Summary:

Patient rooms. Safety. Pack traitor? A big ask. Gathering. Mountain Ash.

Notes:

Thank you for reading this far <3

Trigger warnings in the end note*

Isaac’s hospital room…

Peter stepped into the hospital room to find Derek already inside, checking on Isaac’s comatose body, which explained why Derek had not answered Peter’s call.

Derek had clearly slipped away from the Stilinski house to check on his pack mate.

Peter felt some pride in his nephew at his watching out for his pack even in the chaos. He also noticed that Jackson had come to the hospital too.

Boyd was standing beside Isaac with a hand on his leg. Boyd seemed protective if uncertain based on how close he was to the bed as if ready at a second’s notice to burst into defensive action.

Aiden was not in the room, but Peter acknowledged mentally that Aiden was likely checking in on his brother now that there were others here to protect Isaac.

Peter moved to check on Isaac himself even though he knew that things appeared fine. Once closer, Peter noticed a little more color to the teen’s flesh. Maybe it was a sign that Isaac would wake from his coma soon?

Before Peter could pick apart the thought, the hope at all, a nurse stepped into Isaac’s room with bright red hair piled into a bun on the top of her head. It was a distinct feature compared to the woman’s elderly but kind face. “Peter Hale?”

Peter spun to face her, surprised to be asked for by name. “Yes?”

The nurse seemed relieved. “Please come with me. You are requested in a patient room.”

Peter had his suspicions of who and those were confirmed when the nurse led him into a patient room wherein Stiles was sitting slightly hunched forward.

There were three nurses and now the one who brought him in the room with a doctor. They were all just standing around, waiting.

Upon seeing Peter, Stiles let out a sigh and reached out his hand to Peter. “Okay. You all can start.”

Peter moved forward to take the offered hand. He was impressed Stiles knew he was there with both the Alpha’s eyes being swollen black bruises. The carvings down his back and chest as well as started on his right arm were easier to see in the light of the room in ways Peter had not really gotten in the process of rescuing his Alpha.

Swallowing his own horror, Peter kept to himself the pain of seeing his sister’s name among those carved into Stiles’ flesh. In that moment, Peter knew a piece of what Stiles had endured and made a mental promise to himself to do everything he possibly could to help Stiles heal of every little bit even any slivers he may have.

Peter understood that the carvings were as much a punishment to Stiles as it was to the pack or really anyone who saw and understood what the names were recording. Peter worked to keep his eyes from flashing. “Are you okay?”

Stiles looked to Peter so deeply that Peter felt immediately stripped as Stiles whispered a soft, “No.”

At the same time, Stiles was slowly starting to have tears sliding down his cheeks.

The whole room was in motion the moment Stiles had said they could start. Two of the already present nurses were ever so gently working to clean up the carvings on Stiles’ flesh and the dirt and grim around them. The third nurse was taking notes on a clipboard. The doctor was whispering with the fourth nurse.

While Stiles would be no doubt be unable to hear, Peter could.

The doctor said, “We really need his parent or guardian as well as a police officer. While you make those calls, we’ll try to properly document damages and gather any possible bodily evidence.”

The nurse with pilled up red hair nodded to the doctor and then left to do as bid presumably.

Stiles’ head was trained toward where Peter was despite it being likely hard to see him.

Peter stepped closer to Stiles and brushed his fingers against Stiles’ bloodied arm.

As they touched briefly, the kitsune within Peter whispered to him mentally, ‘He’s hurt bad and still doesn’t want me in him.’

Peter kept his reaction internal, concerned at his lack of knowing right that moment. Swallowing his primary instinct to just grab Stiles and take him somewhere safe, Peter watched and waited. He already heard a nurse heading their way as it was.

There was a knock on the hospital door.

The doctor responded, “Come in.”

A nurse they’d not seen yet came in. “Would it be possible for Mrs. Martin, one of the patients who came in with Mr. Stilinski, to come in to check on him?”

The doctor perked a brow before looking to Stiles.

Stiles tilted his head very faintly.

The doctor seemed to think a moment longer. “Yes, but she needs to wait until he’s bandaged. No need to scar the girl further.”

The nurse nodded, appearing disappointed at the answer she got.

Stiles spoke up then. “Perhaps let her see Allison first? She had fewer open wounds from what I saw.”

The nurse had paused to hear his words and then left presumably to see if that would work.

Stiles then looked to the doctor expectantly.

Peter could not help but notice the seeming numbness in Stiles. Peter wanted to ask questions they both knew the answers to and spout platitudes, but in the end, silence was all he was armed with that had any chance to help comfort Stiles. That and his just being there without judgement.

Moments later, Noah burst into the room in hurried action to get to his son. Upon seeing Stiles as well as the doctor and nurse who were cleaning up the young Alpha’s wounds, Noah paled whiter than milk. “Stiles?”

Stiles was staring at his Dad nearly instantly. Tears began to slide down Stiles’ cheeks faster at the impact of having his father here. He reached out his left arm, the arm that had not been carved into, toward his father.

Though still pale, Noah moved forward and took Stiles’ hand. Noah could not help but look at all he could see of what had been done to his son.

Peter didn’t dare speak or in any way interfere. Knowing it may be proper to leave and may give him an opportunity to assess more of what all occurred, he moved toward the room’s door. But before he could even open the door, Peter heard Stiles.

“Don’t go. Please… stay?”

Unable to refuse his Alpha, Peter turned to return to Stiles, taking his hand once more. Based on Noah not kicking up a fuss, the wolf presumed that his getting Stiles back was counting for something between them all.

Stiles shut his eyes that couldn’t fully open as a nurse picked out a piece of gravel from one of the carvings in Stiles’ back.

Peter moved to try to subtly take some of Stiles’ pain, but the teen gripped the wolf’s arm suddenly, whispering too quietly for non-wolves to hear: “Don’t.”

Although he wanted to pull all the pain away, Peter understood that it could relax him too much, leave him too vulnerable with strangers. While he hated that they now had that in common in a sense, Peter didn’t push. He knew the score.

Aware he couldn’t make promises or grand gestures out in public like this, Peter was just short of biting his own tongue to keep away from the temptation though it turned out he needn’t worry about the opportunity provided by silence of voices alongside the sounds of Stiles being cleaned up.

With tears in his eyes, Noah spoke. “That’s it. Weapons training… the moment you’ve healed enough for it.”

Stiles chuffed out a hollow laugh but didn’t say anything.

Noah nodded. “I know, I’ve fought doing much more than the basics, but that is over now. And I swear, if you get through this, I’ll even take a week off from bacon, okay?”

Gripping his Dad’s hand a bit tighter, Stiles tried for a smile, but had to stop it pretty quick as it showed his bloody teeth while allowing blood to dribble out of his mouth in a way that was visibly off-putting to others in the room.

Noah didn’t flinch though a good look in his eyes told a tale of how upset he was that he had not been there, been able to prevent this all from happening.

Peter knew the look as he likely had the same message written on his own face. He just had to walk away from those thoughts for now. It was far too late to change that. If one could go into the past to change mistakes made, Peter would’ve gone back to undo killing his niece among many other things, like saving his family and his unborn child.

Blinking his eyes, a bit quick for a moment while looking up fought off Peter’s tears for now. His nightmares were going to be a fresh hell after all of this. That didn’t even count the memory lane of seeing Stiles’ wounds, that which one day could be the teen’s scars.

Peter didn’t know what Stiles would want to do about his scars, but the wolf did know that he would make whatever Stiles wanted to happen occur. The wolf was no stranger to throwing money at a problem.

He would move mountains to give the teen everything within grasp to give.

To be honest with himself, Peter did not like how quiet the teen was. The wolf did not like his reduced reactions to the pain of his wounds being cleaned, the refusal of stronger drugs to help with the pain alongside his refusing healing. Peter doubted Stiles was doing it to punish himself.

Yes, Stiles not wanting to be weak, vulnerable around strangers covered some of it. Even seeking to not share information, to an extent, made sense, but Stiles’ deathly silence was unnerving.

No, Stiles had to have something else going on. Maybe something in his head? Trauma surely, but more perhaps? He looked to be puzzling something out, focused wholly on finding answers in a way that pushed his mind while reducing his sometimes-performative flailing and word vomit.

Peter slid his hand a little further up Stiles’ arm to clasp his forearm just below his elbow, causing Stiles’ hand to be moved in a mirrored position. Peter didn’t push for more or less. He just was there for Stiles. What else could he do?

Sparing a brief glance toward Noah, Peter recognized the painful lack of power to change things on Noah’s face that had to be at least somewhat on his own face.

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Stiles just sat in his hospital bed with his legs dangling off the bed silently. Externally, he knew his numbed, quiet responses, or lack thereof when paired with not wanting the Nogitsune inside him was likely worrying Peter. However, Stiles felt like it was just something they would both have to deal with for now. There was too much to do, to figure out to waste time on acting ‘right’ to what happened, whatever that even meant.

Within his mind, Stiles pet Ennis’ wolf. Stiles had been keeping the wolf shoved as far out as possible to spare him from the pain, the torture, the imprisonment. The teen really did not feel the need to drive the wolf inside him to madness. That had struck him demanding too much, pushing too hard.

Stiles presumed that one pack could only take so much madness, so much strain. He reminded himself that while yes, they were stronger together it was in helping one another not using each other as shields. Stiles did not ever really want to use anyone like that if he could help it. Sometimes it came to that in life, but he really did not want that to be the case in all this hell.

Keeping the wild wolf comfortable in his mind as they now were free to roam as they pleased within once more, Stiles tried to let the wolf run rampant within him. He really didn’t feel up to controlling every little, microscopic thing right now. They both needed some freedom to run and free air to breathe.

Stiles needed his insides soothed so that he could put his mind more fully into figuring out what had happened. Maybe the secret to the whole problem is maybe someone else playing in their sandbox without their knowledge. Maybe the answer was magic?

Could someone have used or currently using magic to help guide them toward what all had happened? How could he even know?

No, one step at a time, Stiles had a problem to solve. He needed a who before a how, at least for the moment. Who helped Gerard? Stiles knew Scott had been involved, but the teen had not known what all was going on. As far as Stiles was concerned, Scott had been left fully out of the loop in all likelihood. Theo, while smart enough to be involved, did not necessarily have the things required to help alone. No, if Theo was involved or not, someone else had to help. Gerard had said Deaton, but could you really trust his words?

The more Stiles was chewing over things in his mind, the more he knew who most likely had betrayed them: Deaton, despite Gerard’s finger pointing. The man was able to use magic while his abilities and limits had always been questionable as he never gave a straight answer it seemed. Additionally, even having been turned and losing his magic, Deaton was not a fool. It was not unreasonable to think the man had found work arounds or other forms of resources to get what he wanted. At the very least, Stiles could not rule out the sketchy druid.

Stiles also acknowledged that Gerard may not have had reason to lie. The man certainly seemed to think Stiles would never be leaving the room alive.

With that thought, Stiles also acknowledged that he really needed to check on every single person in his pack, Derek’s, and even Scott’s. Maybe none of them were involved and somehow Deaton had found a loophole or resource to do it all alone or who really knew, but somehow, Gerard had known where Stiles, Lydia, and Allison would be. And that was not information broadcast over the radio. So, someone had to have helped the geriatric monster.

Stiles knew he had to be careful with how he handled this. Even with needing to check everyone for being a snitch, he had to not only be careful not to ruin friendships and alliances to sniff out the rat, but he had to keep from showing his cards on the rat or Deaton before he had a better idea of who sold them out. It’s not like they could ask Gerard. He was dead now, finally. But that did not change the need to safeguard himself and others from something like this happening again.

But in the end, no pack member outside of Deaton had the right combination to be the key to fit the hole.

Easiest place to start with consideration was obviously the remaining members of the Alpha pack. Ethan nor Aiden really had any reason to screw him and the pack over. They’d risked being destroyed to save their own Alpha whom they feared. Why go through all that effort only to attack? If they were even inclined that way, why not have just waited until Deuc was stronger and do the Alpha pack play of gaining new members? If they wanted to kill Deuc and leave the Alpha pack, why not just kill Deuc while he was weak and or team up with Stiles’ pack to do so, then either stay with/take over Stiles’ pack or murder them all for their power?

Deuc was in no condition to strike out overall. Physically, the man seemed to be right as rain other than missing portion of a leg, but emotionally, Stiles knew there had to be trouble. Even the strongest person tended to land with a ton of scars inside and out from interaction with Gerard.

Peter, while at times a power-hungry man, had power already. He was an Alpha. He had been a few times over. The man gave up an Alpha spark willingly to Stiles to save the human’s life. Since then, though, Peter once again has an Alpha spark. The man and the wolf seem happy to have an at least semi-functioning pack, and based on Cora and Derek’s reactions, the Hale spark choosing Stiles carried some real weight. Cora seemed to be looking for her family. She’d found them, or at least what was left of the family. Derek was struggling in his own battles, but none of them would help the man who burned their family to ash.

Isaac? No. You couldn’t fake a coma, not with all the supernatural creatures with super senses all around them. Someone would’ve noticed. Someone would have shared.

Erica and Boyd, like Stiles and the Hales, had dealt with Gerard before. They would never trust him, make any deal with him. And Adrian trailed after Boyd and followed the older teen’s example too closely to have betrayed. Even accidentally, Boyd would have been there, been consulted or at least smelled trace scents of what and where Adrian had been.

But how? If not someone from the pack… maybe someone adjacent? Who? Mel nor his Dad would’ve known enough to help the elderly monster not that either of them would have anyways. They both knew well to be careful of those outside the pack, let alone someone with the last name Argent or at least would check with everyone before just going along.

That brought up Chris, but there was no way Peter would’ve brought the man along, let him in on the rescue if there was even the slightest chance of Allison’s father being involved. Add on the damage Ally had gone through? Yeah, there was no way Chris would allow anything like that if he had known.

How then? Who had helped Gerard and known what was happening? Who had known where they’d be to be taken in the first place?!

Not only did Stiles understand that he had to sift through and find out who made this possible, but he also needed to change their safeguards. Stiles needed to find better ways to keep them all safe. He was not going to let this happen ever again to any of them if he could help it.

Plus, thinking through everything he needed to do, needed to fix allowed him to put distance between himself and what happened, distance between himself and the pain at having his wounds treated. So far, he was having the carvings into his body cleaned and closed to be bandaged so that his bruised and broken ribs could be assessed more fully.

With his father holding one hand and Peter holding the other, Stiles just sat and thought. He needed to focus on things outside the pain of breathing, let alone the pain of his wounds being cleaned. They’d offered him a sedative painkiller, but he had refused. Stiles did not feel safe being unconscious right now. So, the doctor used lighter numbing agents on his back, chest, and arm—all the places carved into.

Stiles was careful to not watch his father or Peter as he could feel them watching him, looking at the carvings. Stiles knew Peter would see his family’s names on Stiles’ chest and arm. There were more though. There were many others. Stiles hoped to take pictures once cleaned and sewn just before bandaging for him to be able to… No, the pack to be able to seek out information on the names of beings Gerard claimed credit for ending. There would no doubt be others looking for some of the people these names represent.

Maybe they could take the pictures when changing his bandages at home? Skip giving anything away in the hospital in case they were being watched.

Knowing he had to do it, Stiles intended to reach out to the supernatural pockets of information and resources to investigate the names on his flesh to hopefully provide solace to whoever remained that knew any of these names.

Although deep in his own head, he startled to the surface at someone breaking the thick silence in the room.

“Will these marks on my son scar?”

Stiles looked to his father, then the doctor.

The doctor frowned before nodding. “They will. We can reduce some of the scars, but they will still be there.”

Noah’s eyes were moist as he whispered. “What can be done to get rid of the marks? I assume surgery?”

The doctor sighed. “I think before we start talking about what to do about scars we should focus on healing.”

Noah looked down a bit as if scolded.

Stiles slipped his hand out of his father’s to wipe at the tears running down his father’s face. “It’s going to be okay.”

Peter looked to be about to question one thing or the other, but Stiles gave his head a slight shake that silenced the wolf.

Whatever Peter wanted to ask; Stiles intended to be kept just between the two of them at first. As it was, there were a few things Stiles wanted to discuss with his Right hand.

One of the first points of discussion would be Scott. Thinking of him, where had he gone? Did he go home? Stiles gave Peter’s hand a squeeze. “Who all is here… at the hospital, right now?"

Peter’s eyes shot to Stiles as his hand was squeezed. “Derek and his. Ours except… Alan.”

Stiles nodded. He wanted to ask, no, demand to know if everyone was okay. Had his Dad and Mel been okay? How was Issac? How were both packs? How long was he gone?

With a faint shake of his head, Stiles forced himself to focus on right this moment. He reminded himself that he would have time. He was going to sort out this chaos and figure out everything he needed to deal with. He just had to stay calm and ride things out at least a little while longer.

Then he had a thought: the base, the place they were kept once taken. Though he was hardly conscious at all for the rescue, the bits he had gotten implied a much larger place than a simple couple rooms of an apartment. That meant there could be more—others, hunters, knowledge, weapons…?

Stiles closed his eyes a moment before opening them to look at Peter as they both felt Stiles let the Nogitsune into him. The Alpha realized he may have different need of Peter than as a Right Hand right now. Would it be too much to ask?

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Thirty minutes later in Allison’s hospital room…

Allison whimpered at the nurse disinfecting one last time the stitches on her back in preparation for bandaging.

The other nurse with her hair piled on her head motioned toward Lydia with her hand. “Can we get you properly checked out now?”

Before Lydia could respond, Allison jumped in. “Please not yet? Could it wait until I’m done? Then I can go with her to be examined?”

The nurse wrinkled her nose at the idea while putting her hands on her hips. “I will have to ask the doctor.”

Mel then stepped away from where she was standing near the door. “I can keep an eye on things for you to be able to ask about it.”

The nurse looked less than pleased but gave a curt nod before leaving.

Mel moved to stand near the door like a casual guard even with Erica being just outside the door “loitering” right now.

The doctor had already left the room to write up the necessary prescriptions and instructions for care of Allison’s wounds at home.

The remaining nurse was beginning to bandage Allison’s back.

Allison was still holding her Dad’s hand and Lydia’s though the later was standing beside Ally rather than being crouched like before.

After giving Ally’s hand a gentle squeeze of support, Chris Argent asked, “Are you going back home tonight? Or do you plan to stay with your friends tonight?”

Allison refrained from shrugging. She also wasn’t sure she was comfortable talking about this in front of any stranger as well as without checking with everyone. As a result, Allison looked to her Dad, saying, “Can we talk about that when we’re all done here?”

Lydia leaned down and kissed her girlfriend’s cheek with the weight of everything that could not be said here. However, the concern and distrust in Lydia’s face did not by any means go unnoticed.

The whole air of the room was a mix of different levels of unease alongside relief. Ally took a deep breath of the air before looking more gently to Lydia while whispering. “It’s okay. Whatever happens, we’ll be together.”

Lydia’s eyes filled with tears not for the first time even since entering the room let alone this day as she asked: “Promise?”

-----------------------------------------------------

About an hour and a half later, the sun setting….

Peter helped Stiles walk out of the emergency room doors on one side while carrying a bag of information for home treatment in his other hand as Stiles had convinced his Dad to sign him out of the hospital against doctor’s orders.

To do so required many a promise from Stiles as well as from several members of the pack and pack adjacent alongside Mel—newest to the circus, of sorts.

On Stiles’ other side from Peter was Deuc. The old Alpha was a commanding presence, blind or not. Although Duke was only helping Stiles move without too much additional damage to himself, the older Alpha was still keeping an ear out for any additional complications, particularly violence.

Erica, Chris, and Mel helped Allison and Lydia toward the vehicles.

Lydia’s hand was clasped by Allison as Chris carried Ally. Erica and Mel corralled them all to Chris’ truck in the emergency parking zone. Lydia was spacey at the best and quaking in terror at worst whenever things veered unexpectedly.

At the same time Chris took point while holding his daughter, Stiles had an arm swung over Peter’s shoulder and his other over Duke’s, holding tightly to the werewolves as they brought up the rear with the Sheriff.

As he was finishing up being checked out, Stiles had asked Erica to send out a mass text to the pack and anyone else who helped with the rescue or was a part of their territory in a supernatural way as far as they knew.

Stiles had some things to work out with them. He even had her invite Deaton without really explaining to him why or what was going on. Stiles was aiming to be ready to face the packs with a show of strength as well as a rule and expectation change, in a sense.

Furthermore, Stiles wanted to bring Deaton into the situation to deal with the breach Stiles suspected the man was a source of even if only in part. Maybe the shady Druid could even highlight or somehow accidentally give away whoever else was working against them all?

Noah was carrying out some of the equipment for Stiles and the others in a few large bags that included gear to set up IV drips as needed for those rescued. They all had been checked out—some doing so with their doctor’s blessings. Some not. At the very least, Parrish had managed to get statements from all three teens while their respective treatments and check ups were in progress, so that aspect was done for now. Tomorrow, they would all need to sign the typed and printed copies of their accounts.

But, alas, that was tomorrow’s problem.

Once Peter and Deuc had gotten Stiles into his father’s cruiser, Peter pulled Deuc aside for a brief moment of fast whisper talking too quiet for even the other wolves to hear much of. The two nodded to one another before they both moved away from Noah’s vehicle with a quick, “Just a moment.”

Peter took point, barely keeping the Nogitsune from showing in his eyes as well as working not to flash his red eyes either. He waved Erica over to join him in his heading to Chris’s truck while she was texting everyone.

Once to Chris’ truck, Peter stopped the hunter from sliding Ally into the vehicle. “Chris, Ally should go with Erica. I need to talk to you. It’s crucial.”

Chris’ eyes hardened, but he understood right now was no time for a scene: not here, not now. “Erica? Will you take her and Lydia closer to the SUV, but not leave just yet?”

The curly-haired blonde nodded though she was suddenly paying way more attention to what was happening after Peter and Chris’ words. Though neither said anything specific, the air was heavy with a lot of things not said.

She very carefully lifted Allison from her father’s arms to carry her and lead Lydia to the SUV that was parked closer to the Sheriff’s cruiser than to the truck.

As the girls moved away, Chris frowned hard. “What?”

Peter took a slow breath, letting the weight of the moment settle between them. “My Alpha has asked me to be a Left Hand, just for tonight. He is asking you to be a Left Hand tonight as well as Deucalion.”

Christophers’ eyes widened. He was no wolf, not pack. And a Left Hand often had an incredibly dark role to play, particularly in circumstances within which the pack was hurt.

Letting the weight sit again for a moment, Peter then continued. “He’s calling the whole pack to his house. All the wolves except Isaac, Jackson, and us will be there. Pack adjacent, Scott’s pack, and Derek’s will be there too. It’ll be the safest place in town tonight. Ally will be safe there while we do this.”

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Stilinski house about forty-five minutes and twelve delivered pizzas later…

Scott was sitting in a Mountain ash circle in a corner of the livingroom—Stiles’ requirement for Scott to be allowed in the house at all right now (otherwise he would be expected to stand in the front yard while they communicated through texts). The boy looked smaller than normal. Something of his righteous swagger was gone while he was left there watching what was happening. For the moment, Scott seemed to be in a state of limbo.

 

Everyone in the house had been positioned by Stiles explicitly. He did not fully explain himself about why he was moving people into specific locations, but most of his original pack members understood it nearly immediately. Stiles was taking control back in the ways he could and also defending his own house while in it.

Stiles had his Dad, the Sheriff of the county, in the kitchen by the back door with Adrian. Allison and Lydia were sat on the couch with Mel and Erica on either side of them, a protection bubble of sorts. Boyd was leaned up against the far wall to be close to both the door and close enough to Scott if the wolf somehow got out of the circle. Aiden was upstairs in Stiles’ room while Ethan was in the Sheriff’s room, both keeping an ear out for the guest room. Each of them were positioned in defense of the windows. Derek was left in the upstairs hall currently though Stiles had told him to be in the guest room.

Derek groaned, “Stiles, no. I’m not staying up here!”

Stiles growled low, sounding a little too much like Peter had after the fire in his revenge crusade. “Wait.”

Slowly, Stiles paced the whole lower floor, touching and visually checking everyone before he moved toward the stairs. “You can come downstairs if you allow me to put you in a Mountain Ash circle like Scott.”

Derek growled. Without word he stalked part way down the stairs. “Why?! I’ve given you no reason to not trust me.”

Stiles’ eyes grew dark, almost hollow for a moment even as his voice remained steady. “You are a rival Alpha in MY territory. You are a threat until I decide otherwise.”

Derek went to advance further only for Stiles to lift a single hand, palm up that was full of mountain ash.

Stiles did not move forward or even tremble for a second. “I will seal you in a mountain ash circle or you can flee. The choice is yours.”

Derek paled at those words, clearly uncomfortable with how much like Peter Stiles’ serial-killer-calm behavior was. After a deep breath, Derek nodded. He carefully skirted around Stiles to sit in the livingroom a few feet from Scott toward the couch as if to visually show where he considered himself aligned.

Stiles waited for Derek to settle on the ground before throwing the mountain ash into the air for it to fall and coalesce into a perfectly round and beautifully ornate circle around Derek’s sitting form.

After a nod to himself, Stiles moved to be able to see and face everyone downstairs. He then clapped his hands together and spoke for the whole house to hear. “Let’s get started.”

Mel looked up from where she sat. “Started on what, to be clear?”

Stiles gave her a shy smile. “Well, we have some things that need sorting. For starters, what, if anything, happened while we, meaning Ally, Lydia, and myself, were captured?”

“Attacked,” Melissa said easily. “They hit the house like they may have before based on bits and pieces I’ve gathered from the others. They did smoke bombs with questionable stuff in them as well as armed with some serious fire power.”

After briefly slamming the door shut inside himself—now was no time to lose control of himself to a panic attack or fit of raging frustration. “Did they just attack the house?”

Boyd shook his head, “No. They tried getting Isaac too. But we were ready. Peter broke us into groups to hold home base while protecting others and rescuing you all.”

He then admitted. “They may have hit other places, but we weren’t in them so currently, we are not aware of them striking anywhere else.”

Keeping the way his skin crawled with feeling like the monsters had violated so many unspoken sanctions, Stiles nodded, whispering into the area, “Thank you, Peter.”

Derek then furrowed his brow intensely. “Where is Peter?”

Notes:

*Trigger warning for mentions of blood, torture, and talk of current and past loss*

Chapter 34: A gathering

Summary:

Catch up. Forward. Emergency.

Notes:

Super incredibly sorry! I didn't mean to be late, but more importantly, the three Left Hands adventure that was originally intended to be the next chapter got too big. Additionally, the tone shifted enough that it not fit here as I had wanted.

On the brighter side though, the over thirty page three Left Hands adventure situation does work to be a one shot. So, their adventure is going to be a one shot that comes out right after I finish Rescue. Thankfully, Rescue is almost done. So, it's coming soon <3

***Trigger warnings in endnote.

Outright ignoring Derek’s question, Stiles was pacing around the livingroom while his Dad and the others updated him more about the attacks at both his house and Isaac’s room in the hospital. They had also included Jackson coming in to help.

The idea that the hunters had the guts to attack the county sheriff at his own home of all places as well as going to kill a teenager in a coma?! It should be a shock, but it was Gerard. It was cruel monstrosity in one of its purer forms.

Stiles paced, so he didn’t scream. Yelling would not help anyone, even himself. His frustration and issue with others thinking they should or even could mess with his pack made Stiles’ blood boil. How dare ANYONE hurt his pack, his family!

Although he was oh-so-angry, Stiles worked to keep it from being seen, smell and more because he had no intention to stress others out. However, it did make Stiles, not for the first time, really sympathize with all that Peter had gone through as well as the other surviving Hales.

With his brow somewhat furrowed, the only tell he was willingly showing, Stiles looked to his Dad in the kitchen and then Boyd by the door. “Has the Darach situation worsened?”

Noah shook his head. “No. It has been addressed.”

A knock at the front door interrupted further information sharing for a moment.

Stiles spun to look to the door.

Not waiting for any debate, Boyd caught Stiles’ eye and approval through a faint nod before he opened the door to see Kira.

She shyly stepped into the house when Boyd motioned for her to. She hugged herself some as she moved a bit further into the house. She looked around at everyone without a word. She stopped hugging herself to play with her fingers. “Hi. I just… wanted to see if everyone was okay. Things looked pretty rough before the hospital.”

Stiles tried to smile at her caring, but he just was not there just yet. So instead, he gave her a nod of acknowledgement. “We appreciate that. What brought you into this if you don’t mind my asking?”

Kira shyly looked down and away. “You did… well, actually…”

She fiddled with her fingers for a moment. “Derek did kind of because of Scott. They kind of opened the door in a sense, then the fight with the Darach ended up kinda triggering me. I didn’t completely understand, but when I got your call, I knew I had to face this. Your call sounded so… scared. I just had to do something.”

Easing enough to genuinely smile, Stiles smiled and nodded once more. “I’m really grateful you did.”

Stiles then noticed that Derek was looking pretty guilty, eyes down and tail metaphorically between his legs. Scott was looking guilty too. Looking at the fellow Alpha and once Alpha, Stiles asked, “What am I missing?”

Kira ended up being who spoke first. “Well, Scott cheated on me. I was fleeing him trying to chase and explain his side of why, I guess. I ran into Derek in a café. He scared Scott off. But… well, late Derek dragged me to the woman who wanted him to sacrifice me… It’s been really complicated.”

Stiles rubbed his still swollen face with both his hands and swallowed the load of cuss words he wanted to emit to reduce stress. “OK. So, Derek—anything to add?”

Derek shook his head. “The whole thing is patchy for me.”

Nodding, Stiles looked to Scott. Not expecting anything of help from the once Alpha right this moment when it came to the teen’s love, Stiles returned his attention to Kira.

For just a moment it was like Kira was the only person in the whole of existence with all of Stiles’ attention on her. Then, Stiles said, “Well, after everything, we are all on the mend. Are you wanting to stay? Stay involved in all of this, I mean.”

Kira smiled, making eye contact as she nodded. “Yes. I really do.”

Stiles smiled again, wondering if the Nogitsune had anything to do with her awakening. He’d have to ask Peter about it later. After what he’d asked of Peter that was beyond what Stiles would normally ask.

Although he could not spend time ruminating what he had asked of his Right Hand, Stiles still could not help but hope he had not asked too much. Stiles really did not want to hurt Peter or the others. Stiles just wanted everyone to be able to heal and get better.

At first, Stiles moved to roll his shoulders, but then stopped, wincing away from the action in pain. Taking slow, shallow breathes to calm himself while not breathing painfully deep. “I want to re-structure protective duties. Derek, will your pack be participating?”

Derek looked to Stiles then, something weird in his slightly more open expression and surprisingly neutral brows. “Yes. Safety in numbers.”

Nodding, Stiles continued. “Okay. Mandatory groups full time. I will not allow a single one of us to EVER be taken again. For the rest of the school year, we’re all going to change our class schedules toward at minimum doubling up. No one goes anywhere alone anymore, understood?”

Everyone looked to Stiles, nodding if a bit uncertain.

Stiles ran a hand threw his hair. “That goes for adults too, Dad.”

Noah face screwed up some. “My job does not allow for me to have one of you with me full time.”

Stiles nodded. “Yes, and that’s why Chris is going to apply to be on the force.”

Noah’s eyes went a bit wider. “Have you checked with him about that?”

Scrubbing his face with his hand, Stiles explained. “In exchange for his joining the police force, he’ll be brought into pack meetings and information just like you, Dad. He’d also be able to be a first responder to some of the supernatural happenings. I think with getting to be more in the loop and more will likely tempt him into cooperation.”

Noah did not look shocked even if it was not entirely clear why.

Stiles continued. “I intend for Peter to be joining the police force too. Derek, you’re with Mel, so time to get to work on getting comfortable with both her and the hospital. Deuc will be joining you guys. You’ll have to get used to the Demon Wolf. Scott too, probably.”

Derek furrowed his eyebrows at that, but the wolf did not say a thing one way or the other.

Still plowing on, Stiles began to pace all around the livingroom with a hint wider range. “Erica, Adrian, and Aiden are together.’

Aiden growled from upstairs. “I’m not going to separate from Ethan.”

Stiles growled low. “Is that a challenge?”

They could all hear a bit of a scuffle upstairs.

Stiles was taking it. “Ethan, let him challenge me if he wants.”

Aiden charged downstairs, ready to fight it out.

Stiles lifted one hand. “Not in my livingroom.”

He then stepped aside. “Before we address the challenge, I want to get out the rest of the assignments. Allison, Cora, and Jackson. Kira, Boyd, and I. Ethan and Lydia as well as others will rotate to be with Issac in pairs until we are able to preform the necessary enchantments to wake him. With Isaac, at least one person present must be a werewolf; although, hopefully, he will be awakened sooner rather than later.”

Allison raised her hand, and when Stiles nodded to her, Ally spoke, “Can Lydia and I be put on the same group? I am not challenging, but after everything… everything that has happened, I don’t feel safe with her out of sight. I am also looking forward to as much time together as humanly possible. And, if I can convince my Dad, I am looking for her and I to even live together.”

Stiles tilted his head, wondering if Chris would end up cooperating with that. Odds were in Ally’s favor for the same lines of reason Stiles thought he could convince the hunter to join the police force.

Clearly surprised by the ‘living together’ comment, Lydia looked to Allison and asked “Really?”

Stiles then sighed. “We’ll talk about it. I really do not want to debate groupings, but with neither of you being wolves, admittedly it is less jarring to the pairings. But we’ll see, okay? At least initially, we’re all going to be sticking in larger groups while so many of us are still healing.”

Leaving out the addition he had in his mind of them needing figure out quite a few things, Stiles made mental notes to himself on their needing to figure out how long the Alpha Pack intended to stay, longterm dealings with Scott, and so much more. This was going to be a very busy time of healing

Before Stiles could really say anything more aloud, Lydia raised her hand. “Uh, are we intending to include Levander in any of this?”

Stiles nodded. “Not in group but yea, in for including Levander in the many things we’re going to have to deal with in the coming days and weeks.”

After he took a deep breathe, Stiles turned his attention to Aiden. “We’ll take this out back.”

Aiden stomped his way out, fuming. Aiden looked pissed, and he looked more than ready to fight his way to what he wanted. He was determined to not be separated from his brother quite clearly and seeing Stiles willing to consider Ally’s request but not his demand seemed to infuriate Aiden further.

Stiles followed in silent calm.

The others followed in a range of states from calm to concerned. No one had seen Stiles be challenged physically one on one before. The closest had been in the preserve with the witches and their enthralled werewolves, and even for that there were others who helped even if limitedly. Add on that Stiles was put into the hospital over it, and well there were some serious concerns that were not unreasonable.

Noah, while the others were filtering out, moved to Scott and Derek.

Before the Sheriff could do one thing or another, Stiles spoke. “You can break the mountain ash circles. It won’t hurt you, Dad.”

Quieter, only for the wolves’ enhanced hearing, Stiles added, “Your choices once out of the mountain ash will contribute to how your station in my territory will go forth.”

Noah broke the mountain ash circles with a weary expression on his face. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Derek got up and then followed Noah outside.

Scott hopped up and followed suit as Ethan came downstairs to also follow the others out.

Once outside, all but the two challengers positioned themselves along the edges of the backyard fence.

Then Erica strayed from being out of the way to give Stiles one good hug, careful to be gentle of his injuries. She whispered in his ear quiet enough only the wolves could hear, just barely. “Remember, you said you would protect them.”

Stiles kissed her cheek. “No need to worry, Erica. I’ve got this.”

He then stepped up toward Aiden and turned his back on him to speak to the others. “No matter what happens, do not intervene.”

As Aiden growled lowly, Ethan stepped up to his brother and hugged him. No words were said between them that could be heard. Then, Ethan moved to join the others who were along the edges out of the way.

Stiles turned back to Aiden while taking a step back. “Any rules? Like anything off limits?”

Aiden gave a predatory grin, showing more teeth. “No.”

Stiles lifted one finger. He then pulled something from his pocket and threw it into the air above. It created a small explosion, releasing what appeared to be glitter all around the back yard and those in it. “Now, no one outside of the backyard can see or hear what is going on. No exposure for any of us.”

All the werewolves nodded, making eye contact with Stiles. Derek was clearly concerned. Stiles just made it so that Aiden could shift. He asked for no allowances. What was the Alpha up to? He hadn’t really healed much just yet. He was human after all. Derek seemed tempted to intervene, but the Alpha already told everyone not to. Derek was tense.

Standing beside her older brother, Cora appeared concerned as well. This seemed reckless.

Noah did not look much better. He did not seem to know what all was going to occur, but he still seemed worried, especially with all his current known wounds.

Derek stood near Noah trying to be reassuringly.

The rest just stayed out of the way, although Cora seemed intensely attentive. She clearly wanted to know what this human Alpha would do when faced one on one with a strong Alpha.

Stiles stood facing Aiden. Once it was clear everyone was standing where they intended to for the fight, Stiles made eye contact with Aiden.

No words were shared.

Aiden took the eye contact as the start and rushed at Stiles. The wolf attempted to ram one claw through Stiles’ chest and the other through his gut.

However, Stiles, at nearly the last second was able to move to the side enough that Aiden hit empty air with his claws and tripped over Stiles’ legs moving the last bit out of the way. The move was not too different from the blows he took from a crazed and shifted Deaton.

Not only had Stiles learned far more about how to better defend himself since then, but he was also being guided by Ennis’ wolf. A wolf that helped to train both Aiden and his brother in the alpha pack. The wolf knew the moves as well as how to mislead in ways he had not taught Aiden to recognize.

Aiden growled, pissed to have missed, and rounded on Stiles for another effort of attack.

Stiles was once again out of the way of the attack just in time again. What no one could see was that Ennis’ wolf within Stiles was giving signals of what to do and when. While Stiles’ body was still human, his combat training with both the pack and his father when added to running with wolves nearly every day had built his body up enough to work well with the spirit of a wolf who had been part of a werewolf even if wolf’s spirit was currently within a physical body was not in the ideal condition. A wolf that wanted to live a good long life that would be ended if Stiles died.

Together, they were able to move with a dancer’s flow around Aiden’s a couple of attacks through anticipating blows and making a point of not being touched at all.

Then, suddenly, something changed. Where most there would expect for Aiden to shift, to act in reckless rage in a flurry of violence, everything shifted. Aiden looked like he was going to charge Stiles to knock him to the ground, but at the last minute stopped still a few inches from the human Alpha.

Aiden then grabbed and ripped off Stiles’ shirt too quickly for Stiles or anyone else to do anything about it.

Stiles was startled and fumbled a couple steps back from his grabbed shirt as it was ripped off. He was caught by surprise like the others. He nor Ennis’ wolf understood what was happening.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stiles’ lower stomach, beyond the bandages, was bloated and purple. Stiles was bleeding through some of his bandages, causing it to look almost like he was sweating blood.

In a single, smooth motion, Aiden scooped Stiles up off of his feet into a bridal carry variation wherein Aiden had one arm on the underside Stiles’ ribcage and the other arm under Stiles thigh to refrain from pinching or crushing Stiles’ abdomen or bandages.

Stiles said, “What’s the…,” before his words died on his tongue to morph into a barely contained tears at a midbody spasm.

Initially, no one said a word. Then an explosion of energetic activity.

Noah was heading to the back door and through it as he spoke. “My patrol car, in the back.”

Aiden nodded and was quickly on the Sheriff’s tail.

Only a half-step behind them was a quick walking Mel who had already pulled out her phone. She had dialed up a number and was on the phone talking to someone by the time the trio were half through the house. “Yes, I am calling to report an incoming emergency. Yes. No ambulance. It’ll be the Sheriff’s patrol car… yes, yes that will needed.”

Derek, though a bit more behind was following the troupe through the house and out to the patrol car.

Everyone else was coming through too with Scott at the back.

Before Aiden could shuffle himself and Stiles into the vehicle, Derek said, “Hey, wait a sec.”

Noah nor Mel paused. They each moved to get into the front seats of the vehicle.

Derek moved to Stiles. The older man then knelt and tilted his neck to the human Alpha. “I submit.”

Stiles motioned for Derek to stand, and once the werewolf had, Stiles ran a hand up Derek’s neck in a comforting Alpha to Beta physical display of acceptance.

Adrian, seeing Derek’s actions and with a nod from Boyd, knelt before Stiles and exposed his neck to the human Alpha.

Like with Derek, Stiles motioned for Adrian to stand. Stiles then ran a hand up Adrian’s arm before giving his bicep a weak squeeze of support very much a blend of friendship and Alpha to Beta behavior for the newer werewolf.

Before he could say anything, another mid body spasm ripped through Stiles, causing him to let out a strangled whine from low in his throat.

Notes:

***Trigger warnings: blood, violence, trauma

Chapter 35: Round Up

Summary:

People-eater. Hospital. Noah. Teams.

Notes:

***EDIT! I accidentally double posted the previous chapter instead of the new one--super sorry!

Sorry for being a bit late

*Trigger warnings in End Note

In newly blood-covered jeans, boots, and a t-shirt, Theo shoved his way through a damaged door and into an old shack on the far side of the preserve from Beacon Hills.

The shack was dingy and dank within. There was a medium length dark wooden table in the front area with two mismatched chairs tucked into it and piles of books upon it, a seemingly flimsy cot to the back of the space, and a massive stone fireplace on taking up much of the wall opposite the door between the two furniture pieces that had a large bubbling cauldron on the fire.

A woman of dark skin and pitch-black hair covered in a crisp all black suit with a black dress shirt even. She stood out remarkably from their surroundings: where the shack could be assumed to be a chaotic fairytale set reject, the woman was polished perfection of order.

Frowning, Theo crossed his arms. “They distracted?”

The woman nodded without a change in her blank expression. “He’s bleeding from a missed laceration. You ready?”

The werewolf nodded but otherwise stayed still. “Nothing fatal, right?”

Moving to the table, the woman opened a book resting upon it. She muttered nearly silently words in a language Theo did not recognize. She then turned to Theo with intense focus communicated only with her eyes. “Go. You have twenty minutes.”

Theo nodded. “I’ll be back soon, Marin.”

Bursting right back out the way he had come in, Theo ran at supernatural speeds through the preserve and through backway routes and shaded areas to make it into Stiles’ back yard with hast while remaining unseen.

He then moved to the back door. Theo pulled out a small pouch from his back pocket. Part of his being ready was his having grabbed some “items” from the witch whose blood he currently wore. She had made him some lovely treats; however, rather than pay for these tricks, Theo killed her for her trouble. It didn’t hurt she’d been a tasty eat herself—tender pure flesh and all.

Theo did not consider himself a cannibal since the witch was human, and he was not. She was just a new prey to his mind. Maybe that could be a fun new meal service? He could not help but smile at that thought.

Perhaps, since he was not fully a werewolf, Theo should consider taking a bite of them? Maybe it would be different? Perhaps gamey? Then again, supposedly other predators don’t taste near as delicious due to their leaner, more muscular build overall well beyond being considered gamey meat.

Shrugging off his thoughts on different meat options, Theo got to work. He didn’t have all day to get this done. He popped his neck then rushed up stairs. Theo started upstairs in the Sheriff’s bedroom. Since he knew the Sheriff was still single with too old of a child for other hair, Theo was able to sniff up a couple of hairs from pillowcases in use on the bed. He slipped those hairs into a bag and scribbled a label on the bag. He then went to the laundry hamper and ripped a piece off the item of clothing that smelled most strongly of the Sheriff and stuffed it into the bag with his hairs. As far as he knew, the Sheriff wasn’t in on the supernatural, so all Theo needed from the room were hairs and the scrap of cloth.

Next, Theo went to Stiles’ room. There were more scents here than the other bedroom. A hair and a hair there, Theo was able to gather multiple people’s hairs. Using the bags that he’d gotten from the witch he ate, Theo set all of the hair up—3-9 hairs per person in their own labelled bag. Once done with the hairs in the room, Theo searched through all the books there. While initially he could not find the book Marin had him looking for, Theo knew he was only at his first stop, so the book was not a lost hope just yet.

After he was done with Stiles’ room, Theo moved on to the guest room. Inside the room, he followed the pattern of actions he’d taken in Stiles’ room. He still did not come across the book Marin wanted.

Theo followed the same patterns in every room of the house of sniffing out, gathering, separating, and labeled storing of hairs he found as well as looking for a book. While he found more people’s hair than he expected, Theo still had not located the book.

He made fast work of the house. Before he left though, Theo doubled back to Stiles’ bedroom. First, he looked again for the book sought, but Theo still found nothing. He then stood in the doorway, facing Stiles’ bed as he took a deep inhale, muttering to himself, “You’ll be mine before you know it.”

Another deep breath then Theo had to get out of there. He still needed to break into McCall’s house and Derek’s loft. He only wished he’d been able to sort out where Peter’s apartment was to hit there too.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the Beacon Hills hospital Emergency room lobby…

Noah sat in an uncomfortable lobby chair with his head hanging down into his cupped hands. He groaned in frustration quietly. Why couldn’t the world be kinder to his son? Had Stiles not been to the hospital enough? Not just enough for just his own wounds, but more than enough long before that. Hadn’t Stiles been here more than enough when he was helping with his dying mother?

Why did the world see fit to take so much from Stiles? Why did it try to take so much from Noah himself? Had the loss of his beloved wife not been enough? Did he now have to be haunted with the never-ending fear that Stiles would be stolen away before his time?

Sitting beside the Sheriff, Allison said softly. “He’ll be fine. This is better than a few months ago. He’s not dying.”

Noah grunted. He knew Stiles would make it, and he hoped that it would be without major consequences, but with everything that’d been revealed to him about the supernatural and more weighed on him the uncertainty. It nearly smothered hope for moving forward. He would never say it, but the sheriff really wanted to grab his son and run away from all of this. Hide his son away so that Noah could fight all of this off for them to have peace and happiness without all of this chaos.

They would be beyond miles from Stiles EVER being at risk again, if Noah had his way. Wasn’t it his job to protect his son? Yes, Stiles was older, but he was still a kid. Stiles was still Noah’s son. Stiles still needed protecting. If any, Stiles needed even more protecting now!

Normally, Noah supposed this would not be too big an issue. Once the imaging and a test or six had been done, the doctors had decided to preform minor surgery and a treatment adjustment after explaining everything with too many words for an already over-taxed mind. Thankfully, at the very least, Mel could be in the room with Stiles, right? Stiles would also be conscious. He’d been very clear about not wanting to be unconscious even before what was wrong was even suspected, let alone confirmed.

Rubbing his face again, Noah could not quite piece his feelings fully together. His son, a minor, was in charge of not only his friends but of other adults in his life. Noah’s son even fought a werewolf in their back yard. It could’ve been bloody; Stiles could’ve died, but he had not taken a single hit. As far as he currently knew, Noah had a still human son.

While months before having the “supernatural things are real” slammed into his face had been beyond traumatic and unwelcome, Noah almost missed those days. As rough as everything was right then. Stiles’ life now just seemed too much beyond the surreal or any other possible expectation.

How had Noah’s life become this complicated this fast? What were other people starting to think with Stiles having been involved in so many medical emergencies? Did they just think he was unlucky? Abused? Worse? Better?

Noah hated knowing he had a secret to keep for the safety of others. It’s not that he wouldn’t keep the secret even after death, but more that Noah already knew he could be a sketchy father. He did not need this extra layer to sort through, figure out. Then again, what did it matter how he felt about it? It wasn’t really about him.

To think, Stiles had been carrying this burden far longer than Noah had. Stiles even had less power, resources to help the cause than Noah might. But Stiles’ loyalty, it seems, never fumbled, buckled under the immense weight of it all.

But still, this wasn’t necessarily about Stiles even.

Well, it was partially about him. Also about Noah. Noah and his love for his son as well as his duties to the county. But it was not ALL about him or even him and Stiles. They were both ushered, rushed into this whole new world within the world they thought they knew. It even blew Noah’s mind at times how much Stiles was able to handle. The kid just kept fighting, no matter what.

Noah hoped his son stayed that way, stayed fighting for the innocent and for things to get better.

Unable to help himself, the slightest hint of a sad smile came to his lips as he thought of what Claudia would think of all of this. She too had been strong. She also had a love of fairytales that she shared with their son.

Maybe part of how Stiles dealt with all of this on some level was due to all the fairy tales Claudia had shared with him. She practically tattooed them on his mind and even bones. He had her eyes, not just in color, but also in his ability to see beyond the obvious. He saw how and why things work in ways Claudia taught him to, knew he would.

Noah wished Claudia could be here to see Stiles and all their son was doing. While he so desperately wanted to cry for his lost wife, Noah kept it together with his knowing that it was his job to teach Stiles now. It was Noah’s job to prepare his son to use all Claudia taught him and focus it to save his friends AND himself.

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Hospital patient room…

The doctor stood in the room near the bed Stiles was sitting up in. The doctor held a clip board in one hand and a pen in the other, the latter of which he was using to help scan the page before him. “As believed after some tests, the carvings into you somehow pierced deeper than had originally been realized.’

“We’ve managed to address the issue as well as changed the in which you are to be bandaged as you were also having an issue of things being too tight and cutting off circulation and an allergic reaction to some of the tape used—both of which were exacerbating how things were presenting when you came in this time,” the doctor finished, looking to Noah who stood on the other side of Stiles before returning his gaze to Stiles.

Stiles nodded, sitting with his hands resting in his lap. The teen seemed surprisingly calm despite having been awake for something barely considered minor surgery. Add on his past his history of sometimes fainting over blood, Stiles’ lack of panic or losing consciousness was a triumph.

The doctor shared some more information before leaving to print out the needed after care information as well as appointment summation for them before they left.

With a sigh once the doctor had left, Stiles looked to Erica and Boyd that were also in the room along with Lydia and Allison. All the others who had come to the hospital were currently with Isaac. Stiles then asked, “My clothes?”

Ally grinned and gather him back the clothes he’d had on before being encouraged into the awful, scratchy hospital gown initially for testing, then surgery.

With a nod, Stiles accepted the clothes then slid out of the bed and slowly dressed himself. He had a distinct feeling there would be many a question to be answered when Peter got word of the extra hospital visit. At least it turned out to be something minor rather than a massive, life-altering affair.

The doctor came back in moments after Stiles was dressed with the paperwork with Mel right behind him with a wheel chair.

The doctor quickly gave the paperwork to Noah before leaving Melissa to it.

Stiles sighed. “Really?”

Yep,” Mel replied. “Hospital policy these days.”

Stiles got himself into the wheelchair a bit begrudgingly. “Hey, we should all go to Isaac’s room to meet up with the others. I wanted to touch base on the requests of Allison and Aiden’s challenge before heading home.”

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Isaac’s room…

Derek just stood beside Isaac as Stiles was wheeled into the room with the others following close behind. Although he’d texted some with Peter, overall, Derek’s focus had been peeled between Stiles and Isaac.

Although the sense of it was somewhat confusing, Derek felt responsible for both Stiles and Isaac, everyone really. He should be the strong one—the Alpha standing up and fighting for everyone, keeping everyone safe. But that just was not him. It was never meant to be him.

Derek had been raised to be Laura’s Right Hand. In this new pack, he wasn’t even that. Now, admittedly, Derek often had worried he was too soft, too sensitive for such a position, but Laura had always told him that he would grow into it like his bunny teeth and long legs. Well, he did grow into his legs, but not really his teeth or into being fit to be a Right Hand.

Then again, nothing was as it had been meant to be. Too many people were dead for that. Those who remained were all changed in far too many ways to follow the paths, patterns laid out for them. To be honest with himself, Derek found Peter being a Right Hand more disturbing than Derek NOT being the Right Hand. It was surreal yet fitting.

The scariest part was Lydia as the Left Hand! She may still be a teenager and even was used to bring Peter back to life, but he felt immense sympathy for anyone so stupid as to go against the fiery woman she was growing into.

Derek could not help but spar a thought for Isaac who, thanks in part to Derek’s ‘leadership,’ was in a comma much like Peter had endured. Would this mean the same outcome for Isaac? Could he see and feel everything while stuck in his own mind? Was he reliving past trauma? What would the comma do to him? Would he ever wake up?

Lifting his gaze slightly, Derek caught a glimpse of Kira and Adrian near the foot of Isaac’s bed being their uniquely awkward selves likely unsure what to say or do.

Unable to help himself, Derek could not help but wonder how far astray he had led Adrian since taking him in as a beta from Scott’s stupidity? What could he have done to Kira if the others hadn’t stopped him from murdering her for another misguiding pretty face that had come into his life?

Jackson, who stood beside them, looked thoroughly uninterested, yet he was still there smelling of concern.

Derek could kick himself on that front. Why the hell did he turn Jackson? Even more so, Derek demanded of himself why didn’t he help the teen? Derek knew how hard, confusing being a wolf could be when you were also dealing wit hormones as a born wolf. It had to be worse for those who’re turned. Even more, the kid wanted the bite for not so clear or even great reasons. How could Derek chide his uncle for turning Scott when Derek had turned Jackson?

When Stiles cleared his throat, Derek and everyone else’s attention went to the human Alpha that had just been pushed into the room by Melissa.

Erica, Boyd, the Sheriff, Allison, and Lydia followed. The former two moving to stand near Derek while the others kind of clustered around Stiles.

Stiles folded his hands calmly on his lap while he was stuck in the wheelchair. “Okay, I just had a cut on my chest that went deeper than they realized and had an allergic reaction, etc. Thank you very much, Aiden, for noticing and immediately making me and others aware.”

Aiden was standing beside Ethan on the other side of Isaac’s bed from Derek. The teen twin gave a nod of acknowledgement. “Does this change what we were doing?”

Stiles sighed. “I will get to that. I think that I have some sharing to do myself fir—”

Just as Stiles was speaking, Scott popped into the room far too casually even though upon entering he did seem to metaphorically have his tail between his legs still like when Kira had come up before at the Stilinski home.

Clearly uncertain if he was welcome or not, Scott moved to stand near his Mom within Stiles’ line of sight.

Stiles took a slow, deep breath before speaking, “Please move me to against the wall on the side of the room Derek is on so no one is at my back. Also, Scott, stand near the door. You can stay, but I want you there to protect my pack.”

Once Mel had moved him, Stiles had Allison and Lydia to his right closest to Derek while Mel and Noah stood to his other side between the human Alpha and Scott.

After taking a deep breath, Stiles seemed about to continue then paused a moment, seeming to change course. “Has anyone seen Deaton? You texted him, right Erica?”

She nodded, saying, “I texted everyone like you’d told me to.”

“Can you give him a call?”

Scott then piped up. “He won’t answer, he can’t.”

Stiles’ entire focus in a not very merciful way seemed to zero in on Scott. “Why can’t he?”

Scott scratched the back of his head. “Cause he’s dead.”

Frowning, Stiles asked. “Is that something you were told or—”

Interrupting, Scott declared, “No! I saw him murdered. Smelled his death or corpse or whatever after the fact.”

Stiles growled to himself.

The twins tensed in response.

Running a hand through his hair, Stiles said, “Well, then I guess he got lucky.”

Scott tilted his head like a puppy. “How was that lucky? He was murdered!”

Stiles sighed. “He is the one who tipped Gerard off about where we’d be. He’s who figured out where we were going to be and when, and he shared that with Gerard to sick you on Allison to allow him to abduct us.”

The once Alpha made a face and moved his mouth like he wanted to defend the druid. However, Scott seemed to be coming up short on words it would seem.

Not bothering with his once friend, Stiles continued. “My initial strategy for teams was flawed. Not because the team up were poorly managed necessarily, but I was not making the teams big enough and I did not do the courtesy of explaining myself.’

“The adult groups of three are going to stay the same. It’s just practical to group in the way they will be to allow those with jobs to retain their positions while they are also kept safe. Additionally, having our own people among the police and hospital staff really helps us in the long run.’

“As far as us teens, it is going to break into three groups—”

Scott, again, interrupted. “Earlier, when you were speaking, you’d included Derek’s pack. Could… could you include me?”

Stiles perked a brow. “You? Not your pack?”

Looking down and away, Scott muttered. “Don’t really have a pack. I drove Theo away… and, yeah. It’s just me.”

Derek was tempted to offer comfort since he sympathized, but at the same time he was tempted to snark on Peter’s behalf just because his uncle wasn’t there. With his own indecision and falling short himself, Derek kept his thoughts and tempted responses to himself.

Sighing, Stiles nodded. “I’ll figure it out. However, if you stalk and or try to date ANYONE in my pack, all your exes and myself will skin your dick and pour salt on it. Got it?”

Pale with wide eyes, Scott nodded slowly in agreement.

After popping his neck, Stiles tried to continued yet again: “So, kind of like in sports, we’ve got captains or unit heads or something like that. Peter is the lead among him, Chris, and my Dad as he is my Right Hand. Mel is the lead among her, Deuc, and Derek as she is the head emergency room RN.’

“Boyd, Isaac, and myself are the three leads in our groups. Boyd’s group is Erica, Adrian, and Kira. Boyd’s used to working with Erica and Adrian, so adding Kira should fit just fine with the existing unit. Plus, they all already have a lot of overlapping classes, which should make the schedule shift easier.’

“My group will be Ally, Lydia, Cora, and myself. The more complicated group is going to be Isaac’s. obviously, he’s a silent partner right now. The point of his group is a shifting cycle of supervision to keep him safe and not alone. His group is Ethan, Aiden, and Scott. Part of that can be covered by Mel’s group so that no one has to skip school on the regular, but there will also be night shifts and such that we’re going to need to break down and work out.’

“Additionally, members of any group can be moved into or out of Isaac’s group to cover times others can’t as well making sure there is cycling of no one person losing too much sleep to protect our pack mate. Hopefully we’ll be able to wake Isaac soon, so that his group can be more solid, and schedules can shift to accommodate.”

Aiden smiled, clearly pleased with the compromise as well as not having to fight probably.

Derek noticed, as did some of the others, that Mel's phone received a text.

Noah then said, “Come on. Everyone not in Isaac’s group, we need to head back to our house. People need to do some healing.”

Stiles grinned. “Plus, pack bonding is beyond in order.”

Derek smiled faintly, surprising himself with how much he looked forward to lower stress time with others. While he came off as a hermit, Derek really did want to fit, belong in a way he’d not ever fully found after the fire. He genuinely hoped this would be that for him—a hope at the very least.

"Wait, where's Jackson?"

Notes:

*Trigger warnings-blood, eating the dead, and mentioned cannibalism

I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. The end is in sight <3

Chapter 36: Cream and Satin-Red

Summary:

A good deed rewarded & something wicked this way comes.

Notes:

Thank you all so much for having stuck with this story for so long! I really appreciated every one of you!

Two weeks later…

In the preserve, a coyote pup was yowling at having its leg caught in a bear trap. The pup’s leg was shattered at the point of impact where they were still trapped. As they yowled and howled and yipped, they pawed at the trap as if they could through strength alone make it go away.

Another coyote came upon the scene, seemingly called by the pup’s cries. The adolescent Coyote circled around the situation a time two, checking for anything else that may have been drawn by the cries. Once satisfied that nothing else was there, the coyote shifted to its human form.

Malia then with delicate care began to work on making the trap release the pup. Although it was not a quick process, Malia did get the trap opened to release the pup. She then scooped up the pup into her hands.

The pup was too small to be alone, likely not even weened yet. To Malia that meant there was probably a coyote den not too far from where she was. She sniffed the pup to get a real range of the scents on him to help her find his home.

While still holding the pup, Malia reset the trap off for it to close upon nothing. She didn’t really have anywhere to take it and couldn’t burry it yet as the pup needed its mom. With the trap neutralized for the moment, Malia set the pup down and shifted back into her coyote form.

She then picked up the coyote pup by the scruff and began trying to find the pup’s home. It took what felt like a long while, but Malia did find it. She set the pup down at the entrance to the coyote den she found. She gently bit the pup so that he would become like her and heal.

The pup turned surprisingly quickly and their leg was quickly healing.

Malia was surprised at the unusually rapid turn and healing experience, but she nuzzled the pup a touch no less before scooting him toward the den entrance.

The pup looked confused, but he went into the den regardless and then came right back out.

Tilting her coyote head to the side, Malia cautiously entered the den only to find it abandoned. As she came out of the den, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with the lone pup. The mother must have heard the cries and moved dens with whatever possible remaining puppies she had.

Malia sat down outside the den unsure of the next step.

Before her eyes, a man with fur rather than skin and head of a coyote approached her and the pup. He knelt and picked up the pup. He then looked Malia. “You give without intent of reward or even notice. You live as my kin but change forms to help your kin. You are quite a tricky one.”

Coyote grinned with his coyote teeth. Still holding the pup, Coyote leaned forward and kissed the top of Malia’s head. “Something is coming. It’s time to reveal yourself when you hear his confession.”

As he leaned back, he winked and then vanished pup and all.

Malia just sat there in her own confusion about everything that had just happened.

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At the Nemeton clearing…

Theo stood beside the Nemeton’s stump with his arms crossed over his chest. In his blue jeans and white t-shirt, he was just short of tapping his feet in his impatience.

Wearing a black suit and dress shirt, Marin, who looked just a hint like her brother Deaton, was lighting candles on the Nemeton stump—fire risk be damned. Once all thirteen of the black candles were lit, Marin Morell opened a bottle of wine and a jar of honey. “Theo, please grab my other bag from the van.”

Theo growled. “You couldn’t just have me grab it to bring here when we first arrived?”

Shaking her head absently, Marin began smearing honey on the stump.

Theo took off running to grab the black duffle bag out of the rented van they used to get here. He didn’t even bother to open the door properly. He was frustrated, so he just ripped the door open and grabbed the duffle bag. He then ran it out to Marin.

After accepting the duffle bag, Marin opened it find a trussed up, naked Jackson Whitmore. He was unconscious and bleeding. She looked to Theo with something wicked in her eyes.

Theo grinned, looking hungrily at Jackson.

Marin then said. “The other rucksack. Take this one back and bring out the right one.”

Growling, Theo zipped up the bag and hauled it back to the vehicle and put it back none too gently before grabbing the other bag and rushing out to Marin once more.

Yet again accepting a rucksack from Theo, Marin opened it up to pull out four staff length poles carved with different elemental symbols. Each of the four was marked as a separate element. She stuck the staff with air symbols on the eastern side of the stump. Next, she put the staff with symbols for earth on the north side of the stump. Then, she put the staff with the symbols for water on the west side of the stump. Finally, on the south side of the stump she placed the staff with the symbols for fire on it.

With both hands she grasped a skull and a large bag of bloody body parts from the duffle bag to place upon the stump. Opening the bag of parts, Marin spread them out over the stump before placing the skull in the center. With blood and honey all over the stump, Marin perked a brow and gave a hint of a quick tilt to her lips. “For all your planning, Brother, you were not ready for this. You have no concept of what is coming.”

With all the staffs plunged into the ground around the stump, Marion moved to three feet from the stump on the southern end. She then began to chant in a magical language with each recitation being louder than the last—over and over while she rubbed her brother’s blood over her face and limbs.

After a while, the air around them and throughout the clearing began to sizzle with coiling magical energies. The sizzle caused silent tension to rise and rise as a doorway appeared to open upon the Nemeton stump.

With dark-hair bound up under a red hat from another era, a twenty-something woman with alabaster skin stepped through the door to stand on the stump. She wore an elaborate cream and satin-red 17th century, Hungarian gown. Seeing them, she smiled, flashing dozens of pin-prick sharp teeth “You dare to call upon me? Do you not understand what thou hast done, children?”

Marin curtsied and yanked Theo into bowing. “Countess Bathory.”

Notes:

Thank you again for sticking around this long, and please know that this story is not over yet. There is still more incoming with these characters <3

Notes:

Comments & kudos feed my plot bunnies <3

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Teen Wolf: Bruises Build