Chapter Text
Stiles knew where the borders around the preserve were. He wasn’t so stupid that he had no idea where he was and wasn’t supposed to be, but the fact that he’d been driven past the border by some assholes from school, was setting his heart on fire.
He couldn’t even breathe really, and almost wished his pops was there to help him calm down. Pops was the only one who could calm his panic attacks since his mama died, and as much as he wanted him right now, the thought itself of him being caught over the border with him? No, that was making his panic worse.
He collapsed in on himself, straining to hear back the way he came. He wanted to go back, but these were the bad branch of the Argents. These were the ones that weren’t allowed across the border to take care of magical pests for the magical community, and he couldn’t help but think that if Stiles headed back that way, they’d take his own magical status as an excuse to just get rid of him entirely.
He wheezed, curling up at the base of a tree as he tried to quiet his breathing, even if he couldn’t calm it. He heard a voice far too close, and felt like electricity had rocked through him as he wheezed again.
“Shit, is that a human? He’s not supposed to be past the border.”
“Very observant, Derek, but I think his panic attack tells us he knows that. He’s just a kid.”
Stiles looked up through hazy eyes, seeing three figures in front of him, wavering slightly from his tears, and wheezed so hard he started to gag. One of them was a fully shifted wolf, who came over with a little whine, trying to shove its big snout into his neck.
“Well, if Peter’s-“ there was another shout from the direction Stiles had come from, and all three of the werewolves froze. The one who’d been possibly trying to help him pulled back, and sniffed, first him, and then the direction he’d come from, before giving a low and angry growl.
“Oh hell, Argents.”
Stiles hiccupped, a couple times actually, and tried to speak, which immediately seemed to get the shifted were’s attention, who came back to him with a soft little whine, snuffling all over his face in an attempt to calm him down. Stiles hiccupped again, and reached up a shaking hand to slide into that thick brown fur. “N-not with- not me, please-“
The one in black leather who looked seconds from storming to the edge of the borders to get rid of the hunters there, paused, looking back to Stiles with a little sigh. “We can tell, kid. You just stay here with Peter and try to calm down, okay? You aren’t in trouble for crossing the border, if that’s it. Cora and I can get rid of them and help you get home.”
Stiles sagged against the tree with a little sob, and let his head thunk onto the wolve’s, pulling in the first breath in what felt like hours, since this whole thing began, really. He wished he still had some friends in town, and then maybe he wouldn’t have been out on the borders alone that night, wanting to get some fresh air and star gaze.
Not like they had when they realized Stiles was hanging around the preserve all on his own.
***
Humans weren’t allowed to cross the borders without papers. Usually documentation of citizenship, or a passport, or an interview to talk about immigration or refugee statuses.
Which made sense on why the little fast hearted bunny Peter had found was panicking so much he was beyond words. Hunters from across the border kept too close of an eye on their humans.
It wasn’t the werewolves the little human was afraid of catching him. It was the hunters that had chased him across the border. They always demanded the humans back and put them under stricter punishment for it, and the wolves could only intervene in… well, situations like now.
No one was going to accuse a border pack of lying about a scared little human running across the border to escape hunters, even if said hunters happened to just be teenagers.
By now, the young human’s trackers would be telling the authorities exactly where the human had gotten off to, and their jailers would be on the way here, ready to put him in a detainment center for the night til legal council could take the kid’s story about how he got out there.
There wouldn’t be any question about if he’d be punished. They always punished the humans that tried to cross the borders.
Except the ones the wolves didn’t give back. The ones they decided were clearly in a bad situation, or needed asylum… or, weren’t healthy enough to go back…
Peter shifted forms back to his human body, moving as the little human squeaked in his arms, and gently pulled him into his lap. “You’re okay, little rabbit, no one here will hurt you.”
The boy sobbed again, but it was a mix of despair and fear, but before Peter could figure out if he should put the teen back down again, maybe his naked body making the kid uncomfortable; the teen turned in his arms, burying his face in Peter’s neck. “I thought I was going the right way back towards town. They started to hassle me towards the border, and I didn’t realize what was happening til my tracker started beeping. I didn’t know-“
Peter gently shushed him, rocking a little with the kid in his arms and scenting him, like one would a panicked child. “No one will hurt you for this. I will make sure of it. Derek and Cora will make sure they get evidence.”
The boy pulled in breaths of air so shaky he coughed a few times, and finally the strings seemed to snap, making him sink back into Peter with a little sob.
This was a different sob that the ones before, the ones caused by fear of death or torture, or whatever the fuck those hunters below the border did to those innocent kids they claimed broke the laws down there.
These were… a bit more familiar. They sounded like a five year old Cora after her first tumble down a tree after she’d been climbing too high; hurt and worried. They sounded like the desperate sobs Derek had given when Peter had finally woken up from his coma after a month; relieved and broken.
His babies. His sister’s babies, anyways. Laura used to cry for all sorts of things as a kid, but she was a happy crier, and this couldn’t be compared to that. Maybe the heartbreak when her first girlfriend had broken up with her as a teen. That one had sounded a bit like this.
But this wasn’t a teen’s cry of panic. This was a child relieved to have an adult to help them, too scared to let go for fear of losing that help.
Peter cradled the boy’s head against his shoulder, and stood up with him, shifting him so he could wrap his legs around Peter’s waist. He was too thin, but he’s been told humans aren’t supposed to be as densely boned or muscled, and that played a factor in weight, but Peter wanted to feed him a bit, give him some soft padding that all cubs needed for health and safety. Good for when they get an icky tummy, good for when they wanted to wrestle.
“Peter.”
The boy in his arms jumped, startling so hard he started to hiccup again, and Peter cooed a little, swaying him in place, tucking his head further against Peter’s scent glands. Derek looked at the boy with sympathy and worry, and Peter frowned at him. “No bodies, dear nephew?”
Derek rolled his eyes fondly. Peter was good with others from preserve, but not other communities outside, considering the supernatural community tended to have stricter self policing, and resulted in less strife. “We got there in time to hear them bragging about what they’d done, what they were going to do when the kid came back. Got enough of it on video before Cora gave most of them black eyes or bloody noses. We can handle the below borders police in the morning.”
Peter gave a slow nod. That seemed like quite a lot for a random kid to have to deal with. He must not be liked at his school. “Did they say why they chased a random kid above the border?”
Cora looked nervous at that, her eyes fixed on one of the kid’s legs, and Peter thought it might be where the boy’s tracker was. “Said he’s not completely human. That he’s got Druid blood in him, so they didn’t think he should be living below the border.”
The boy pulled back from Peter’s neck, looking pale. “It’s not that much Druid blood, only a bit from either side- I just- it’s not been all that easy since they found out-“
Peter cooed at him a little, a soft little noise that he used with the kids in their pack, and various littles over the community. It stopped the boy in his tracks, making him go soft at the rumbling purr that followed, making him want to sag against the man and sleep. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry to say it, but Druid blood doesn’t dilute very easily, not unless the bloodline is cursed. But it’s okay, it means you shouldn’t legally have a tracker in you to begin with. We can tell the council below the border that it needs to be removed, and you won’t be in any trouble for crossing over without a passport.”
The boy gaped at him for a moment, before his lower lip started to tremble again. “I don’t have to have my tracker in me?”
Peter sighed. He fecking hated below borders hunters. They made the whole world shite. There was a reason there was a border around every Nemeton in the world, and it wasn’t because the hunters truly ruled the world. It was to keep them out so supernatural beings had pockets of magic to live and thrive in.
Unfortunately, that also gave the hunters outside those pockets an easy space to abuse any magical, or even just humans they didn’t like, without interference.
“You don’t have to have the tracker, and you have just as much right to be above the border as any of us do. We can help you out and make sure no one gets in trouble tomorrow.”
The boy whimpered, and reached a shaky hand towards his jeans, the front pocket. “My pops, he’s-“
“We can see if he’s awake, but there’s no need to panic him right now-“
“My dad is the sheriff.” Silence followed, and the boy looked up, not seeing any upset on their faces, but understanding and worry. “He’ll already know. We have to make sure he doesn’t panic and start demanding answers from the hunters council. He’ll panic if no one tells him where I am.”
Before the boy could reach for his pocket again, his shaking hand was pulled aside, and the youngest wolf around the same age as the teen himself reached in. “What’s your name, kid? We didn’t exactly catch it from the hunters.”
The boy flushed a little. “Stiles Stilinski. English speakers can’t usually pronounce my real name just by reading it.”
She held up the phone for him, which he took a slow moment to unlock for her. “His contact is under Tata Miś.”
She nodded, pulling up the info and dialing it.
Stiles’s was right, and the call was answered with a panicked sounding man. A frantic sounding man. “Stiles, where are you?”
Cora cringed. “Hello, Sheriff Stilinski? This is Cora Hale of the Hale pack. You son had a run-in with a group of teenage hunters at the edge of the borders and was corralled above the trigger area around the preserve, a few of my pack heard the sound of an intruder at the territory edge. We found him relatively unharmed and calmed him down enough to tell us what happened. We’d like it if you could cross the border into the preserve to retrieve him, as we don’t feel it’s safest for him to cross below the border again. He likely has patrol already looking for him, and you will be let in through the main border crossing and escorted to Hale territory.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and when the man spoke up, he sounded a bit ill, but was gritting his teeth. “May I speak with my son?”
Cora handed the phone over, and Peter had to help the boy hold it. “Hej Tatuś.”
The man sounded relieved when he replied. “Czy wszystko w porządku, syn?”
“Tak. Moja głowa pływa. They have been very kind to me, Tata.”
There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line. “Do they want us to stay over the night, or am I to retrieve you and leave?”
Peter spoke up at that. “We have not asked our alpha yet, but my niece will not deny me this. I want you two to stay. I feel we have much to discuss, and I do not feel safe leaving Stiles to go back without reassurance. He was very shaken up, but I have no doubt they would have hurt him much more if they had gotten a hold of him below the border.”
“Okay. Yeah. Thank you. I will have to pack for a couple days, I guess. It shouldn’t take me more than a few hours to get there. Can I assume we’ll be put up with your pack?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. Miecio?”
“Tak?”
“You are so grounded. You’ll be lucky if you’re allowed to leave my sight for a month.”
Stiles sighed sadly, but not unexpectedly. “Tak, Tatus.”
***
They had been on the edges of the property when Peter had heard Stiles in the woods. He couldn’t help himself; he heard a little and he had to go and help them. It’s why he was classified a caregiver. He’d always been protective over the pack’s cubs, and the ones they had lost haunted him the most.
But here’s the issue; they didn’t classify humans outside of preserves. They literally just didn’t classify people outside of the magical communities unless you came to them specifically for classification testing.
But he was absolutely sure this was a little. Stiles hadn’t even cared that Peter had been naked the whole time, simply trying his best to burrow under Peter’s skin for safety. He’d had a lot of very big emotions that were a bit much for his mind as it sought comfort in Peter. Those big emotions had worn the little right out, ending in an exhausted little boy in Peter’s arms, giving soft little grumbles of discontent as Peter shifted him just a little so they could walk back to the Hale house.
Peter could feel the pure exhaustion in the boy’s body, and couldn’t help his own discontented rumble when Stiles brought up a finger to slip in his mouth. That wasn’t healthy and Stiles had been running around in the woods all night. Peter didn’t want the new baby to get sick.
Derek gave him a funny look at the upset rumble, before smirking and nudging Cora in the side. They were on the side Stiles was facing, and Cora gave an identical smirk to Derek’s at the sight.
Not because Stiles was sucking on a finger, but because they were going to start teasing him about being a mother hen any second now. He glared at them, holding the exhausted boy closer so he could protect him from their mischief.
He was going to make sure the little was safe, obviously, but that didn’t mean he was going to imprint on him or something. If he had a dime for every time Derek and Cora giggled over him finding new kids to bring into the pack, he’d not be much richer, but he could put them all in a sock to beat them with-
“Uncle Peter?” The words were from half a football field away, but they could hear it like Laura had spoken in their ears.
They were barely at the edge of the woods, leading to the Hale property. It was a sprawling field of green that had been replotted after Hale fire nearly eight years ago. They’d chosen to remove any of the burnt soil, and have fresh magical soil replace it. They were planting trees every couple of yards as time went, but it would be a patchwork forest when it finally started to blend in with the woods surrounding the Hale property, and that might take a hundred years or more.
It wouldn’t be the same, but they couldn’t go back the same after what happened anyways. The therapists had said having an open line of sight to most of the property would calm them down for now anyways, and eventually as memory fades, the trees will grow out and the forest will come back. Like a scar. It wasn’t the worst way to explain it.
Laura was standing at the back porch of the newer Hale house, Malia at her side in her full shift. She’d gone inside to get their alpha when Peter had heard Stiles out in the forest, but Peter’s wildest niece hadn’t bothered transforming back, it seems.
Tonight was supposed to be an alpha free camping trip in the backyard. They usually did it once every weekend, Laura would be ushered out the door to have a date with the fetching young beta she was subtly courting and Peter would corral the puppies into the backyard to wear them out.
Sometimes Laura’s girl had work at the sanctuary, or plans with her pack, and Laura would come along with them all, but she usually let them be. It was important to let betas work out their own hierarchy, figure out their own dynamics and how they work together, without the alpha there to stop any fights or become entangled in the posturing.
Malia sat up with a glint to her amber eyes, looking curiously at the new puppy Uncle Peter was clearly bringing her and only her to play with. What a nice new puppy, she will accept the sacrifice.
She was bouncing around Peter’s legs before he could stop her, giving soft nips to his shins when he tried to push her off. She was such an adorable little shit sometimes, but she was classified as a pet, and they often played by different rules than caregivers and littles.
Laura snorted, coming to meet them halfway. “Oh, what a cute little human. Where did you find him?” She ran a single finger down Stiles’s nose, and over a couple moles, making him twitch, but it was clear he was too close to sleep to bother while crashing from the adrenaline.
“He got chased halfway through the forest by below borders hunter teens. I think some sort of school bully situation, since they said he’s got Druid blood. From what he said himself, they didn’t always know.” Derek looked sullen, and Peter wanted to reel him in by the neck and scent him like crazy. His poor boy had always had the worst luck with friends outside his pack as a teen.
Laura frowned, and Peter just now took in that she was still wearing her jacket, and wondered if she had just gotten in. She must have already left by now, right?
Yeah. She’d probably just gotten back.
“Does he have a tracker?”
Peter growled a little, and it made Stiles wrinkle his nose, turning so he could shove his eyes into Peter’s collarbone. “He does. I think it’s in his thigh. Since he’s got Druid blood, we don’t have to give him back.”
Laura sighed. “I know it’s the right thing to do, but what if he has family outside the preserve, Peter? We can’t just take him away if he wants to be with his family.”
Cora looked smug about that. “We called his da. He’s coming up to get his pup. We told him he should stay the night. Maybe if he’s got Druid blood too, we can convince him that his pup should go to school up here. We can take both their trackers out.”
She shifted on her heels a little, looking somewhat excited about that, making Laura give a little sigh. If both Peter and Cora were vying for the pup to come join them, it wouldn’t take long before they’d stolen this one too, just like they collected all their other miscreants.
She tried to be a stern alpha, but their pack had been so little and broken for so long. They’d been collecting others since the year after Peter woke up from his coma, nearly six years ago now. What did bloodlines matter, when they needed loyalty and strength and bonds.
She ran her finger over that cute little mole next to the pup’s mouth, and frowned. “Shouldn’t be sucking his fingers, he’s covered in dirt.”
Peter grinned at her for a split second, before going back to nuzzling Stiles’s soft hair. “No, he should not be. Let’s get him inside so I can clean him up and put him down for a nap.”
She snorted, giving him an unimpressed once-over. “You two, big guy. All your bits out and everything.”
“I was shifted, it would rip my clothes anyways.”
She ignored him, tossing her hands up in a perfect imitation of Talia’s teasing stance, a way that had nearly brought Peter to tears when she first started showing how much she was like her mother as a late teen. “Walking around like some harlot and kidnapping poor little humans.”
He huffed at her, giving her a fake eye roll and heading back towards the house. “If you’re done being crass, dear niece.”
“Never. But I can let you be for the moment. Not like a caregiver is into that sort of joke anyhow.”
Peter scoffed at her. If all caregivers were asexual, the world would have a lot less people. It was littles with the high rate of asexual adults among them, while caregivers ranked low.
Laura was just picking fun at him in the same way Peter’s siblings used to. That he was pretty, a smooth talker, and utterly uninterested in any suitors they could throw his way.
He made sure to gently kick the back door back at them as he passed through, making Derek break out into sniggers, his sisters clearly offended noises following Peter down the hallway to the bedrooms.
Malia was still at his heels, enthusiastically jumping about to try and get a proper sniff of the boy. He definitely smelled like a little. Those dumb humans didn’t classify though, so they probably didn’t realize what a precious gift Uncle Peter had found in the woods.
There was a playroom in the family hallway. There was also one in the guest wing, but that was more of a guest nursery than this. This was where Malia kept her toys so she didn’t get distracted from homework, and their other pack littles and pets kept their toys for when they stayed in the Hale house, and it’s where Uncle Peter was bringing the new baby.
She grabbed a hold of one of her squeaker toys as Peter set the little down on the changing table, before turning to grab a pair of shorts and a shirt from the closet. He came back dressed and holding a linen romper that had buttons to close the left side. Malia approved. She thought he’d look super cute in the pajamas set. It was super hot out lately, and he could use something other than jeans to sleep in.
Peter didn’t get to changing him like he would a pack cub though, and Malia stood on her hind legs so she could see over the edge of the changing table to watch him clean the boy up with puppy wipes and clean any cuts he found.
Malia whimpered when she remembered that humans heal so much slower, and Uncle Peter gave a soft baby coo that made her feel comforted and seen, taking a hand off the new pup so he could pet through her fur. “I know, he has some ouchies. They aren’t very bad, and he’s going to be much safer now that we know he needs our help, won’t he, pup?”
Malia nodded, leaning in to lick at his pale fingers.
She didn’t know his name yet. She snorted once, giving him a pointed look, and turned to nudge that little hand, and back to him.
It took Peter a moment to parse what she wanted, and cautiously ask, “oh. You don’t know his name? Is that it?” She nodded. “His name is Stiles. He said his birth name is hard to pronounce. His father is the sheriff of the town past the preserve.”
She gave a snort cackle, which made the boy stir, turning towards her with an expression of worry on his sleeping face. She leaned in and licked him. They were going to steal the sheriff’s son. And maybe the sheriff too. That would be really funny, and maybe they could finally give someone other than hunters in the town a bit of power to help the people down there.
It wasn’t til Peter was finished cleaning him up a bit that Stiles started to stir.
“Where ‘m I?” He was slurring a little, and looked clearly exhausted and a bit nervous. Peter gave one of his hands a squeeze.
“Sorry, I brought you into the house so I could clean you up a bit. I have some pajamas for you to change into, and then we can find you a bed to crash in.”
Stiles made the cutest little waking up noises as he squirmed on the changing table, making Malia a little excited and bouncy as she listened to him. He was the cutest baby pup in the whole wide world!
She must have made a noise herself, because that cute face was turning to look down at her, and those amber eyes turned a little excited. “Puppy?”
Peter snorted, helping Stiles sit up a bit, and held him there gently with a hand on his thigh, so he wouldn’t jump down yet. “That’s my niece, Malia. She’s a werecoyote.”
Stiles gasped, soft and in awe. “I didn’t even know that could happen.”
Malia squeezed the squeaky kitty in her mouth, practically hopping in place as she tried to contain her excitement. She was finally getting a baby! She definitely was, since she’d always asked Uncle Peter to get her a baby. After Laura admitted she might not want to be a mommy, anyways. She was such a good pack alpha, but she wasn’t ready for her own kids yet.
“Yeah, pup, werecoyotes can happen, and multiple other large animal weres. I think I met a werecapybara once in Asia. She was very friendly.”
Stiles was finally too awake to stay in place himself, and tried to get off the changing table. If he realized he was in a playroom, he didn’t ask why. He didn’t seem to have caught on that he was on a changing table yet. Peter had to help him off the edge of the changing pad, since it had raised edges meant to keep pups in place while their carers were cleaning them up. When Stiles was stood on the ground, he swayed, and finally closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the dizzy spell. “Why’s’it so spinny?”
Peter cooed, pulling the boy in to lean against his chest til the feeling passed. “Sorry, pup, I bet you’ve never had your magical senses so flooded before. You’ll probably feel pretty dizzy for a week til you get used to it. I forgot about that, since we don’t normally get new Druids or witches here. We normally find other magical creatures.”
Stiles scrunched up his nose, but with his eyes hooded, he didn’t even notice where he was. He didn’t recognize being in a playroom, but when he felt a paw on his right thigh, close to where he knew he was chipped, and brought a hand down to blindly pet Malia’s head. She had the best baby pup already, she could tell.
“It’s… I thought I was just hyperventilating earlier, when I felt the spins. I don’t really like the spins.”
Peter pet the boy’s hair carefully, using a single finger to pet against the grain of his buzz cut, and if Stiles was more attuned to his innate magical abilities and what they could give him, he’d be purring with how happy and relaxed his scent turned.
What a sweet boy.
“Yeah, you might have had some issues with that too, probably why you needed a little nap on the way to the house. Come on, I got some comfy jammies for you, and I know a bed that’ll be good for snoozing through the spins. By the time you wake up, your father will be here, too.”
Stiles gave him a soft little sigh, but didn’t protest being picked up again. Peter had the feeling that his walk would look more like a drunken stumble at the moment, and he didn’t want to add extra bruises on top of the ones he already had. Malia followed them out of the room after Peter grabbed the pajamas he wanted to put the kid in.
If he was anything like Derek, the texture might freak him out, or maybe he’ll love it, but the house was warm and Stiles already had cheeks flushed from exertion.
Stiles let Peter deposit him in the empty bedroom next to Peter’s own. It had been pointedly left empty by his nieces and nephews after the new Hale house had been rebuilt, as a sort of pointed reminder of the long search Peter had had before the fire, to find a little that could fit him.
He’s never put a new pack member, even the littles or pets, in this room before. Malia was quiet in the doorway for a moment, and when Peter looked back at her, her eyes were wide and pleading. Like she was begging him to be serious about what this all meant.
She wanted this baby pup so bad, and she just knew Uncle Peter was made for him. Their scents curled up together like an autumn pie. Cinnamon and nutmeg, apples and pears. It all fit together in a way that she knew meant compatibility, but she also knew that Peter’s little mate would compliment him just like this.
Peter beckoned her over, sitting Stiles on the edge of the bed and pulling out the romper. It had short sleeves on the top, and buttons that went down the center, but it also had buttons that trailed down the legs of the outfit.
It was supposed to be for easy diaper changes, but it would be comfortable for the boy, and he could cuddle up under some blankets without overheating. Especially since Malia looked like she wanted to join him. Weres could run far hotter than comfortable to cuddle humans at.
“Hey kiddo, can you help me out here? I think we need to get your clothes off before we can dress you again.”
Stiles grumbled something unkind, but flopped back in bed. Peter thought about offering to help him, but it turned out Stiles had a method. A very squirmy method of shoving at clothes til he was mostly down to his boxers.
Peter had seen newborn deer with more grace than this boy. It was so charming.
He helped the boy out of his shoes and pants, and pulled the romper up from his legs, bodily moving him towards the head of the bed so he could get the boy’s arms in it and tuck him into bed.
Malia made the happiest little puppy whines as she wriggled into Stiles’s side next to him, flopping on her back so one of his hands could hold her like a teddy bear. Peter wanted to rage with how adorable he thought they were. Sweet pups.
He ran a hand over both their heads, giving soft pets to lull them to sleep, tucking Malia’s squeaky kitty into her own arms. She shyly held it between her front legs, tucking her face into the stuffed toy and settled down.
Peter could leave them here. Even in her puppyspace, the girl would make a good guard for a little in need of some love and sleep. He left them to it, deciding to go sit in the kitchen with the other niblings in the house, and maybe deflect Laura’s implications of parenthood by asking if she had finally gotten to second base with her mate. It takes one to know one.