Soul Grief

by Bam4Me

Summary:

Jackson had spent several months in London, being fostered in a very healthy pack with a very coddled Spark who was taken care of and adored by the whole pack. Upon getting back to the states, Jackson realized that his own pack isn’t paying nearly enough attention to their own Spark, and maybe Jackson could help fix that.

Only slip is that he hadn’t realized the way Spark Ellie had been treated was a direct result of her own considerable trauma, but it’s actually okay, because Stiles has quite a bit of trauma of his own, and could use a bit of coddling himself.

Stiles is struggling. He hasn’t been treated like a baby since long before his mother had passed, and realizing that his best bet for help is being cared for like one… it’s a bit much.

Jackson got therapy and he’s gonna make that everyone else’s problem.

(Timelines are slightly changed but not drastically, just flipped some parts around, info on that in the notes.)

Notes:

Stiles is both a regressor in this fic, and a little, so yes, both ageplay and regressing will happen. His regressed caregivers will only be pack adults because a large part of his own trauma is to not inflict that responsibility onto other teens his age. Which is great because Kira gets kinda hot and bothered when Stiles and Malia call her mommy 😘

Stiles will mostly end up bonding with Derek as a caregiver, along with Peter and his own dad (who’s honestly not upset at all to have his little boy back) and Scott, but Scott is only because him and Stiles are already brothers and Scott’s alpha instinct means he very much needs to take care of Stiles when he’s vulnerable.

Timeline changes;m: Erica and Boyd are alive (that won’t change, I just need to save them. They’re only barely in this chapter but they will get to bond with Stiles soon) and both Scott and Derek are alphas at the same time. This also won’t change, but it is implied that a lot of alpha spark hot potato went around and that’s why Stiles’s bonds are tatters rn. He can’t rebuild them the same way the rest sorta grow them back again.

Also, the nogitsune has already happened, but it happened earlier and Kira and her fam actually only just got to Beacon Hills. Noshiko was mostly called back by instinct and a need to help bring a new Kitsune into the know, just in time to train them and her daughter together.

Also Allison and Aiden are both alive and will stay that way, and the otherwise got rid of the Nogitsune without issue.

Also Peter isn’t the father in this AU, but Malia and Jackson are twins in this one. They’ll figure things out soon enough lol.

Wolfsuggest.tumblr.com

Chapter 1: Cold

It started in the cafeteria. 

 

Specifically; it started a week and a half after Jackson got back from London, which was about a week after Stiles vomited out the nogitsune and got back to normal. Jackson had missed a lot while he was in London. A lot more than he’d expected possible for only having been away a few months. 

 

Jackson had been sure it should have started months ago, mostly because Jackson was disgusted that Stiles had had so little supervision while he was out of the country. And then he’s disgusted with himself for thinking that, as if Stilinski isn’t nearly the same age as him. He’s not some errant toddler that Jackson is supposed to be dragging back to the den whenever Stiles is seen wandering out and about. 

 

Actually, he’s starting to realize that it might not even be a Stiles Thing, just a Pack Thing that had to do with Stiles, and that that Pack Thing might only exist because Stiles was the way he was. Which was: a traumatized human. Even if that human happened to be a Spark, capable of more powerful magic than any of the rest of them could ever achieve. 

 

And yet, that Spark was feeling dim on the magical spectrum, and Jackson seems to be the only one recognizing how dim his light is. Especially, at the exact moment that it came to a head and Jackson could no longer hold himself back, half the school watching him or not. 

 

When Jackson had been in London, he’d gone to therapy with a pack that his mother had looked for. She and his dad hadn’t taken well to the werewolf thing at first, but it had turned into them doing their own research, and realizing that with everything, including Jackson’s issues with his adoption, therapy was needed. And in that therapy, Jackson had finally felt like he could connect with them again. 

 

He’d spent a lot of time watching the way a new pack with established bonds and territory ran, and found himself watching one of their pack humans a lot. At first, he was embarrassed when their alpha had pointed it out, afraid that they’d take offense at him, but their alpha had explained that it was only natural as a healthy werewolf, to know which pack mates needed the most help, even if his bonds with them had been temporary. 

 

They had a female alpha, and she seemed to be the main point that their Spark ran to when she needed extra care. The alpha could pick up the little human Spark when she was exhausted or scared. But what had shocked Jackson was the way that others would step in when Ellie’s alpha couldn’t. She often had a plethora of other wolves, other creatures even, even a few other humans, who could scoop her up, take her to have a nap, even just pull her into their laps and talk about what’s bothering her at the moment. 

 

It was weird, because that was an adult woman, but it was normal, because she was a human Spark in need of care and reaffirming her pack bonds. Jackson didn’t know her backstory, but she seemed to have a lot of high care needs when it came to her pack, and like Stiles, ended up in a lot of rocky situations that humans aren’t typically able to deal with. 

 

Like right now. Jackson didn’t know when Stiles had last reaffirmed his pack bonds, but it was starting to show, and that showing was terrifying. 

 

Lydia and Danny had said that Stiles was having issues lately. They always kept him up to date on gossip while he was away, and it had even come in handy a time or two, apparently, since Jackson telling them to get Stiles to cuddle with one of the alphas usually resulted in a few days of peace for the boy. One time Lydia had sent a pic of a sullen Stiles sitting damn near in Derek’s lap, saying that getting him in Derek’s reach had been a test of wills, but he always struggled out of the alphas’ arms too fast when Derek or Scott just grabbed him. 

 

Stiles hadn’t been back to his alphas’ in a while, it seemed. He was flagging. Danny would never know the danger of having to reaffirm his pack bonds, because he didn’t have enough magic for those bonds to wilt under too little attention, but here Stiles was. It was time for Jackson to start getting the rest of the pack to bear on Stiles’s fragile little human Spark bonds next. Stiles would never settle for more than a day or two without everyone’s pack bonds reaffirmed. 

 

Which is why Jackson had sat down in the cafeteria on the first day back at school, and upon realizing the human was coming in to sit at the table near him, not even bothering to get himself lunch, Jackson took notice. Mostly, he took notice of the way Stiles’s hands were trembling, and how he looked more likely to collapse than actually sit. 

 

Jackson flinched at the feeling of raw anxiety and need coming off of him, and it was primal instinct that had Jackson pushing his chair out, and grabbing onto that cold shaking hand. He tugged, and when Stiles turned to him, clearly sluggish on the uptake, Jackson pulled him into his lap instead. 

 

He could hear most of the din of the cafeteria start to lessen, and it took a couple seconds for Stiles to actually realize where he was now, already instinctively pushing into Jackson’s considerable body heat without thinking. “Jax? Wha’er you doing?”

 

Jackson snorted, taking off his jacket one arm at a time so the little brat wouldn’t run away as soon as he didn’t have werewolf strength holding him back. 

 

Brat? He would have called Stiles that before, easy enough… but why does he feel like calling him that would be cruel, now? 

 

He pulled the jacket from behind him, and pulled it over the teen. “I’m trying to keep you from getting hypothermia, at the current moment.”

 

Stiles tried to argue, but Jackson could feel how his pack bonds through Lydia and Danny were trying to establish that Jackson was pack to Stiles as well, and if Stiles didn’t accept it right away, things could get messy. Which was why Stiles’s teeth were starting to chatter. His magic was about to overextend itself, which just made him colder, so Jackson started pinging every pack bond he had established in Beacon Hills, feeling a vague worry coming from his bond to Derek, but his bond with Scott was weak at best. 

 

Jackson squeezed his arm slung around Stiles’s middle just a bit, and Stiles finally gave up fully, the shivering lessening just a little as his magic latched onto Jackson, letting the weak bond Jackson had to most of the pack flare brighter, connecting them nearly as firmly as Jackson was to Lydia and Danny. 

 

Well, that was rather unexpected, considering their past, but Jackson sent as much fondness through the bond as he could, finally feeling Stiles slump against his shoulder in exhaustion. Jackson was so thankful he’d been fostered in a good pack in London, because he had no idea how to manually form a pack bond before that. 

 

Where the fuck was the rest of the pack? Scott should be here right now, trying to soothe the little Spark and steal him back from mean bully Jackson, not, who knows, making out with Allison in a hallway? Where were Lydia and Danny?

 

Ahh, there they were, coming into the cafeteria looking a bit frantic, followed closely by an annoyed looking Finstock. “Whittemore! What’s this I heard about you molesting Stilinski in the cafeteria?”

 

The man stalked up to the table with annoyance, and then, when Stiles made no move to even look up at him, stopping with a genuinely concerned expression. “Stilinski? What’s wrong with him?”

 

Jackson didn’t quite know what to say, but Lydia and Danny weren’t cowed by the teacher’s accusing tone. Danny reached for Stiles’s shoulder, laying a hand over the boy’s neck when he didn’t react. He flinched. “Jesus, Jax, he’s freezing!”

 

Lydia made an upset noise, and Jackson knew she’d be stealing the boy straight from his arms if she had the strength to do it. Maybe he could get her to go hunt down McCall so Stiles’s alpha bestie could try and scent the boy better. “Can one of you go look for Scott? I feel like he could help out better than the rest of us.”

 

Coach Finstock stopped Lydia before she could leave. “Bring him to my classroom. Bring the rest of your pack there, if you find them. I’ve got an empty room for the next hour.”

 

They all looked at Coach for a long moment, and he rolled his eyes at them. “None of you are subtle and I was born in this town, go. If I had known Stilinski was a magical too, I’d have told you guys to keep a better eye on him a year ago.” The man broke off in mutters as Lydia left the cafeteria, and Danny put a stabilizing hand on Stiles’s back to help Jackson get up without dumping the Spark. 

 

He ignored the funny looks he got, letting Danny grab their backpacks for them as he booked it out of the cafeteria and towards Coach’s room. A safe quiet enclosed space for the little Spark was exactly what they needed now. 

 

He ignored the kids in the hallway, staring at him like he’d grown a second head, and slipped into Coach’s classroom. He looked around for the best spot to put Stiles, and grumbled, a low rumbling in his throat in discontent when he realized that Coach’s classroom hadn’t suddenly sprouted a nest of pillows and blankets he could safely put the cub into. 

 

Cub? …yeah, Stiles was pretty cubbish at times. Puppish even. He was like a playful little pup who constantly needed to get into everything, and he chewed up all his clothes like he was teething. 

 

Except now, when he was slumped against Jackson’s shoulder like a lethargic toddler with a fever. Except, this wasn’t a fever, this was a chill so deep it had the cub unresponsive. 

 

Danny looked worried, putting their backpacks on a desk and looking back at Finstock, who came in behind them with palpable concern. “I think Jax is trying to put him in a safe spot. He spent a while getting fostered by a pack in London so his instincts for protection are far stronger than most of the pack here.”

 

Finstock nodded. “Go to the library and see how many pillows from the reading nook you can steal. Grab a cart and go with confidence, Mary won’t even question you.” The man was moving towards the back of the classroom, moving desks so he could create an empty space between a cabinet at the back, and a table in front of the window that had a bundle of lacrosse sticks on it.

 

Hopefully, the twenty-five desks in between them and the door would calm the growling in Jackson’s chest. Finstock couldn’t really blame him, even if his human instincts told him that Jackson holding Stilinski like a baby was weird, his logical thinking as a human having grown up around wolves, said that Jackson was just protecting a vulnerable human packmate in the best way he knew how. And apparently, that meant carrying him out of danger and denning him down. 

 

To be fair, Stilinski was barely responsive at this point, body still cold, and only really reacting to Jackson as the other teen manipulated him about. 

 

“Do you have any idea why he’s not responding?”

 

Jackson growled low in his throat, tucking the two of them into the corner of the room. His fangs were dropped when he opened his mouth to speak. “He hasn’t seen either of his alphas in days, they said. He’s only got solid bonds with them, the rest of them are struggling and it’s enough bonds that his magic is pulling on them. He’s just a human Spark, he doesn’t know how to solidify his own bonds yet.”

 

Finstock frowned, but ducked into the cabinet behind him and pulled out a rolled up mat. Jackson wasn’t completely sure what it was for, but he wouldn’t be shocked if it were there so Finstock could grab a nap after he kept the kids in practice too long. He watched the man pull it out and roll it onto the floor. “He’s a Spark… that… his mother was one, as well. She didn’t really run with the wolves of the town, but she spent a lot of time with druids, and they don’t really do packbonds, I assume. Did you say alphas? As in two?”

 

Jackson nodded, his fangs retracting as the door opened up and Lydia came in, holding Allison’s hand and pulling them inside. Scott and Issac followed them, along with Erica and Boyd. Jackson finally relaxed a little. “He’s got both McCall and Derek Hale. They’ve been working together.”

 

Scott was at his side in seconds, leaving the rest of the pack to try and work their way through the desk barrier. Finstock stopped them. “Alright, who has blankets in their car?”

 

The girls all raised their hands. “Alright. Go get them. Jackson is trying to swaddle the human and he doesn’t have enough coverage.”

 

Scott didn’t even react to the girls leaving for once, sitting next to Jackson on the padded matting in the corner, trying to get Stiles to start reacting to him. Finstock was trying to explain to the boys that Sparks had a naturally extreme sensitivity to magic, and that Stiles magic was pulling him in too many directions at once, making him feel sick. In this case, that sickness was showing up in nearly freezing to death, and what Jackson assumed was an inability to eat. 

 

There was no way in hell Stilinski hadn’t lost at least ten pounds. He weighed far too little.

 

Scott finally got a reaction out of Stiles, and it wasn’t exactly what Jackson expected. “Where’s Malia?”

 

Scott smiled at him. “She was talking to one of the new girls, I think?”

 

Boyd grunted. “Yeah, she said she needed to figure out what species the girl was.”

 

“She’s a Kitsune.”

 

Boyd nearly jumped a foot, and all of them looked at him for how his heart had made that patter sound in his chest. He looked at Malia with wide eyes as she proceeded to climb over the desk barrier and steal Stiles right out of Jackson’s arms, ignoring his growls. She simply growled back at him. This is her mate, thank you. 

 

“Jesus, you are silent when you want to be.”

 

Malia buried her face in Stiles’s neck, nuzzling in so she could scent claim him, making him react well enough that he could climb into her lap instead. She had her hands glued to his ass as she held him, but it was more show than intent. She was clearly upset over his distress. 

 

“Kira Yukimura. She’s a Kitsune. She didn’t know, so I brought her to her dad who told her. I think he’s gonna have to cancel his class and call his wife to explain things to her. She didn’t know she wasn’t human.”

 

Finstock put his head in his hands, ignoring as the door opened back up. Danny was pulling a cart full of stolen pillows from the library, and the girls were following him in with blankets. “I can’t believe you outed another student, Tate.”

 

Danny looked shocked. “Oh my god, you outed someone? Not cool.”

 

Malia rolled her eyes, finally getting nuzzles in return from her sluggish little Spark. “I outed someone as a Kitsune because I thought she knew she wasn’t human. She didn’t know.”

 

Danny looked conflicted. “Um, that’s… and you just left her?”

 

“Her dad is the new history teacher. I left her with him. It’s not like we have any answers about Kitsunes on hand in here.”

 

Jackson finally nudged her to get up, finished putting down pillows around the corner they were sitting in. It would be a tight fit for the whole student population of the pack, but Stiles needed to be surrounded by packmates and letting his magic connect to them again before he would calm down. Before he was finally warm and felt alive again. 

 

She got up with a grumble, making Stiles squeak when she kept him in her arms. She was smaller than him, but not by too much, and she could easily hold him up. Stiles seemed to come back to himself as Jackson was building a nest with the blankets the girls had gotten, and reached back to grab one of Malia’s hands, moving it away from his ass. And then the other. 

 

She pouted, and nuzzled under his chin, gently biting down on his throat. Not even enough to bruise, but it made him whine anyways. 

 

“As much as I accept that you all need to… cuddle him, I do have to ask you not to get too comfortable with him, Tate.” Finstock was looking up, as if asking for answers. 

 

Malia pouted, letting Stiles bury his face in her shoulder out of embarrassment. “He’s my mate.”

 

“Yes, I can see that. He’s also a seventeen year old boy being held like a toddler because he has an extreme lack of pack bonds making him physically ill.”

 

Malia was growling louder, and Jackson put a hand on her arm, tugging her into the nest he’d made. Malia let him tug her in, the two of them curling up with Stiles, and Scott, who followed them into the nest without hesitation. Stiles tried to scoot out of their laps, but Jackson was the one who wasn’t having it. They weren’t supposed to let their little humans wander off when they weren’t feeling good. Alpha Tamri would have put Ellie in a timeout for thinking she could run off on her alpha like that, and those timeouts were usually an enforced cuddle. 

 

If they let Stiles run off, they’d have to convince him that he needed to come back and get these cuddles for the sake of his health. 

 

Jackson refused to let him go, tucking the two of them back in the far corner, and looked over to where half the pack was still crowded at the door. Lydia was making her way over with Allison and Erica, clearly unworried about being stuffed into a cuddle pile in a classroom, but Scott had had to call the others over to come join them.

 

Danny had left after bringing in new pillows and blankets, and by the time the rest of them had left, he came back with the same cart he’d stolen from the library, and it was full of lunches. “I had to charge it to Jackson’s account, but we can all drop in a single payment for his tomorrow if he needs.”

 

Coach Finstock looked at the man in slight horror. “It’s useful, but Christ, how did you manage that?”

 

Danny gave the man a sharklike grin. “I have ways that would scare you.”

 

“You already scare me.”

 

“Thank you. Coach, do you have any blue Gatorade in your office? I didn’t get Stiles anything because he throws up when his meds fuck with him and he probably feels the same right now.”

 

Finstock got up with a sigh, heading towards his office. “Language. He needs something other than Gatorade, I think.”

 

“Yeah, but I was just going to give him my peanut butter sandwich I brought from home. I don’t think his stomach can handle something that’s not room temperature at the moment. I have something else for him but I’m not mentioning what.”

 

Boyd was up and passing trays out, so Danny shrugged and followed after the coach. “Do you know what’s wrong with his pack bonds? I know Derek and Scott have been trying to trap him for this for at least a month, but he’s so squirrelly sometimes. High energy enough for the weres to chase after him and still miss.”

 

Coach paused, changing direction from the mini fridge to the stock cabinet when he remembered Danny wanted room temperature drinks and food for the kid. That did make the most sense for keeping something in his stomach.

 

“He’s a Spark, which means if they spend enough time around people with pack bonds, he’ll naturally create his own. Issue from what I’ve heard about the magical gossip channels is, your pack has been playing hot potato with alpha sparks for a year now, and it’s damaging his magic as he struggles to rebuild those bonds every time it happens. The rest of the weres just get weakened til the bond is stronger again, but a Spark can’t do that without help from the other side. Not a new one, anyways.”

 

“Crap. It’s a lot harder to do human-to-human bonds. Lydia is magic so she has a boost, but me and Ally are rather devoid of magic. It’s harder for us to make bonds. We always have to go through a proxy like Jackson or Scott.”

 

“Not completely devoid. Or there wouldn’t be a bond that his magic is fighting to get back in place. It should be easier to solidify them again if you achieved it once.”

 

He handed Danny a blue Gatorade, Stiles’s favorite, and Danny smiled. “Thanks, Coach. Sorry about what’s going to happen later, though.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Yeah. The pack will never leave you alone now.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Language, Coach!” Danny grinned at him, ducking back into the classroom before the teacher could reply. He was such a little shit.

 

Stiles was growling like an angry kitten in the middle of the pack huddle when Danny got back. “I don’t. Need to be held.”

 

“I’m sorry, Stiles, the rest of us have issues establishing pack bonds without cuddling.” Lydia’s voice was soft and crooning, it was the same voice she used when someone was drunk or under the age of five. 

 

Danny had known Stiles since kindergarten. In fact, Scott, Danny, Lydia and Jackson all had. So they knew that Stiles actually got very overstimulated when he was touched too much. 

 

Danny had a fuzzy memory of him biting Jackson on the arm in second grade. Back when Jackson was less egotistical and more willing to be friends with people, but… his natural love language was touch. 

 

He’d bitten Jackson on the forearm, making distressed noises like a scared puppy because Jackson had been cuddled up to his side. Stiles had been trying to take advantage of the quiet corner, pretending to read a book while really just playing with one of the sensory toys that seemed out of place in a second grade classroom. He’d been whining all day before that, but after recess was his comedown where he was too overstimulated to do anything, and the teacher always let him crash in the quiet corner. 

 

Jackson had always been a touch starved kid. His father wasn’t particularly interested in touch -Danny had always suspected the man to be a touch averse asexual, but he wasn’t going to assign queer titles to his friends parents- and his mother hadn’t liked to have a little body tucked into her side… Danny tried to help as much as he could, and it genuinely wasn’t Jackson’s fault. His parents just didn’t do touch, and their son, unfortunately, needed it. They gave him everything else they could for the record, but were a bit behind there. 

 

It led to Jackson having a touch starvation that led to situations just like that day. He had seen Stiles sitting in the corner, and hadn’t thought much of plopping himself down next to him on the quiet corner pillows, and had gotten a set of milktooth impressions in his forearm for it. 

 

That was when Jackson started to pull back from others. And that was when Danny realized that Stiles got overwhelmed to a point of non-verbal panic sometimes. He was adaptable, and could slot into either of their needs, but Jackson clammed up at that point, needing specific permission to hold onto others after that. 

 

So Stiles didn’t feel good with being held right now. But when Jackson had held him earlier, he’d melted into him like a little boy needing his daddy. It made Danny’s chest ache a little. Not only had he missed Jax so much it burned, but the way Stiles had actually given into Jax’s hold… it couldn’t be anything bitty a reminder of them all as children, all a little broken in some way and looking for someone to hold onto. 

 

Stiles was finally captured by the combined efforts of Allison and Lydia, who pulled him to collapse in between them, as close as they could get to each other and hold a teen between them. Scott seemed to try and subtly lift his phone for a couple pictures, but half of them gave him an eye roll for even thinking he could be subtle right now. Scott ignored them, clearly switching apps so he could text the photo to someone. He seemed to have his phone on silent, and Malia was looking over his arm to watch him talk. 

 

“Sheriff will like that one. He’s always taking pics of me and Stiles, or Stiles and anyone else who can get him to hold still long enough to get a pic that isn’t blurry.”

 

Scott snickered. “He’ll love the picture, he’s been demanding we figure out a way to hold Stiles in place and reestablish his bonds for weeks now. You sleep with him at night, how are his nightmares?”

 

Malia shrugged, moving to sip at the little carton of orange juice she’d been avoiding. Half the group wouldn’t drink milk, so Danny had sweet talked the lunch ladies into getting the orange juice cartons out from the breakfast rush. Danny slipped into the spot beside Lydia, reaching for his backpack so he could drag out his lunchbox and start the horrible process of getting a twitchy Stilinski to eat. “He has less nightmares after you and Derek can get a hold of him. More on the days when you don’t.”

 

Scott sent off the picture, looked up, and took another one. 

 

Stiles had gone lax between Lydia and Allison, his arguments about not needing to be held going right out the window. He was very keyed up, but his body was actually very underestimated, which is why he’d gone nearly catatonic on Jackson earlier. Stiles was nearly catatonic again, eyes half mast as he let Lydia spoon around his back, a slim hand on Allison’s neck as she spoke something to Stiles in Polish. 

 

Scott could feel his heart thump abnormally, and tears were blinked away. He couldn’t even figure out what was making him so breathless, but if anyone asked, he’d claim it was the sight of his mate holding Stiles against her shoulder while she let Lydia reconnect Stiles’s bonds with them. Lydia had learned she could use her banshee abilities to brute force a lot of stuff, but the soft way she spoke in one of Stiles’s first languages made Scott’s chest tight. 

 

She didn’t speak Polish a year ago. She actually sounded like she probably only spoke it newly, still curling her mouth around some of the words that would have come easier to Stiles or the Sheriff. Scott barely knew enough of Polish to guess that she was… well, it sounded like when she scolded Prada for running off on her. Which is amusing. 

 

Allison was leaning into Lydia’s touch as the bonds started to thicken from spider silk to a twisting parade of fiber as it spun into a yarn. Lydia was using each word like it’s own strand of fiber, the sentences as twists that bound them together. All three of them, really. 

 

Scott looked down at Malia when she gave him a soft nudge in the side, and realized she was reading his texts to the Sheriff over his arm. 

 

12:32PM

I don’t know what you did to finally hold him in place, but if you can get him home within two hours, I can have the adults at the house to help finish his bonds. 

 

12:35PM

Jackson found him in cafeteria when bonds started getting to him. He’s trying to fight us, but he’s cold and tired. 

12:36PM

Malia said he’s not slept much this week. Maybe this’ll fix it

 

12:38PM

Bobby Finstock is calling my line at the station. Said he can keep you long enough to finish bonds with you guys before someone takes Stiles home. 

12:39PM

Text your mom when you’re ready to leave and she’ll call you out for the rest of the day. 

 

Scott looked back up to check on Stiles, before focusing his hearing to find Coach. He was in his office again, ranting to the Sheriff about how the teens should have managed to tie the kid down weeks ago, and the Sheriff was talking about how Stiles found one of his mom’s old journals and was giving certain spells a try lately. 

 

Coach had sounded just as choked up as the Sheriff did, saying he could try and help Stiles with all of that, even if he had only the minimum magic that growing up in Beacon Hills could give a person. 

 

The laylines made everyone at least a little bit inherently magical. 

 

Scott wondered if Coach had helped Mama Stilinski with her magic. She had been the same age as Coach, and they had met, probably as toddlers. Either way, he always looked at Stiles fondly, even as he called him by his number and ribbed him over having a keyboard smash as a first name. 

 

It never sounded insulting. It always seemed fond, like Coach was thinking about Claudia while he said it. 

 

The Sheriff himself rarely used Stiles’s first name, only the nickname for it, and in public, he stuck to Stiles, usually with a comment that it was Stiles’s decision if he let others know his name or not. 

 

Jackson was getting up, and seemed to be switching spots with Allison, so he could sit in between Danny and Lydia, Allison tucking herself into Scott’s side. “He’s calming down, and his skin is a lot warmer now, but I can feel how exhausted he is. Maybe we really should have pushed it a month ago, forced him to sit down and accept us again.”

 

Scott sighed, letting her snuggle under his arm. Jackson was awkwardly slipping the teen into Danny’s lap, who looked more eager than one would expect, and had Issac trying to climb under Danny’s other arm. “We had too many people. The twins, all the adults, he was overstimulated and would have had a meltdown, at best. We aren’t even establishing bonds with the twins now, since Ethan and Aiden barely know him. He needs to do this in increments.”

 

Allison snuffled into his right peck, small enough that she could press a soft little kiss there without ducking any further than she’d made herself. Erica and Boyd were sitting on Issac’s other side, content to wait their turn. By the time Issac’s bond was reestablished with Stiles, theirs would simply slot in place with him next. 

 

This wasn’t even a final thing. They were going to have to keep doing this for weeks til Stiles could be confidently independent again. He was going to hate them for babying him. 

 

Speaking of…

 

“Stiles, can you please just try and eat this?”

 

Scott winced, and looked to see what Danny was holding out to him. “What is that?”

 

“It’s just banana-squash puree.”

 

“…like baby food?” Lydia asked, considering that. Danny was ignoring the way Jackson had his hand on the back of Danny and Isaac’s necks, ignoring the way Danny was showing Lydia one of those squeeze pouches that Scott usually saw with apple sauce in them. 

 

Stiles gave a singular, but very real gag, making Jackson’s eyes open and give him a worried look. Scott didn’t blame him, Jackson was always Stiles’s favorite place to aim when he was about to projectile. Danny snorted, and screwed off the top of the pouch after vigorously squishing it to make sure it was blended.

 

“I know, I know, but you don’t have anything in you to vomit onto Jackson at the moment. Nothing but stomach acid anyways. Can you please just give it a try?”

 

Stiles tried to reply to Danny, and gagged again. He glared at Danny like this was all his fault. 

 

“Yes, you don’t feel good, I know, but the empty stomach and low blood sure is not helping.” Danny’s eyes were tight with a tense worry. He nudged the pouch into Stiles’s hand, letting him curl into Danny’s chest and nudged the hand to bring the plastic nib into his mouth. Jackson seemed to hold his breath, but Stiles didn’t gag again. Actually, his eyes fell half mast as he seemed to relax with the feeling of something in his mouth, without having to open it to chew. “Alright, but you can’t just suck on it, you have to actually eat it.”

 

Stiles grumbled, and Jackson held him down from trying to remove himself from Danny’s hold. Issac slung a leg over Stiles’s, helping hold him in place, and Stiles finally let out a slow sigh of air through his nose, reaching his other hand up so he could squeeze the pouch, nose wrinkling at the first taste. 

 

It was actually really good, but his body got into these moods sometimes where he’d first feel icky because of his meds, so he wouldn’t eat, and by the time he was shaking and unable to keep going without, the mere act of opening his mouth had him gagging too violently to get anything down, the thought of food made him want to die, and when he finally had something in his mouth, it was sharper than what was good for him, and made his head spin. 

 

He closed his eyes, giving a few more deep breaths and started to squeeze the pouch again, realizing it took basically no effort to swallow like this. He relaxed a little, and started working faster to get as much as he could out of the pouch. 

 

He hated it, but this was necessary if he wanted to calm down, stop shaking, and stop gagging. 

 

“Thank you, Stiles. That should help calm you down. It’s not a meal replacement, but once your tummy feels better, we can try solids. I would have just given you the Gatorade, but the last thing you need right now is a pure blood sugar spike.”

 

Stiles glared at Danny, and then Issac, who was giggling. Rude. He wasn’t some baby. He just had a messed up body that forgot food existed until he was dying about it. 

 

He was tired of being passed around. He was tired of everyone holding him. He felt betrayed about how much his body craved to be held when they did it. Mostly he was annoyed because he just wanted to pass out on someone. He wasn’t sleeping very well, even with Malia. It wasn’t nightmares, or even insomnia, just waking up just as tired as when he fell asleep. 

 

He was exhausted and cranky, and now that he wasn’t so cold, his body was starting to relax, and he was starting to feel more vulnerable, and he realized how bad everything had gotten. 

 

He started crying. Just… it was too much. He’d relaxed enough that he realized how icky he felt, and now he had something in his stomach and he realized it was probably more than he’d had in days, and he wanted to go home and go to bed. He was tired, and Danny was still holding him on his chest like a baby, and it felt nice, and he was crying. 

 

It’s been a long few months. 

Chapter 2

Summary:

Stiles is not the happiest camper, but the pack is determined to settle him.

Notes:

Stiles is fluctuating a bit between big and understanding, and tiny and confused. He’s very sensitive to change right now.

Little bit of explanation about how Stiles is now sorta a Kitsune (he’s not fully one because since he’s also a Spark he’s adapting the abilities in strange ways) and also Stiles is gonna get some quality time with his other alpha.

Stiles was having issues breathing through the tears, but Danny was still holding him, making little shushing noises as Erica crooned in his ear, having replaced Issac. 

 

Issac wasn’t good with emotions he couldn’t tease someone for, which is why he usually got the bully label like Jackson used to, but Erica was trying to croon in his ear about how her Batman was more of a little Robin right now, and how the world was a scary place when you felt icky. 

 

She and Scott were probably the best ones to talk about him feeling like sludge, but Scott abandoned the pack pile, despite Malia whining for the alpha to stay with them. He gave her a pat on the head and passed her a box of tissues from one of the tables in the back of the room, nudging her towards her mate. “Get him to clean himself up a bit so he can breathe, count with him, Mals? I’m just gonna call Mom.”

 

Malia took the tissue box, letting Jackson drag her over to sit with Stiles so Jackson could steal tissues and get him to blow his nose. “Careful careful, I’m sure your meds are messing with you, don’t blow hard enough to get a nose bleed.”

 

Erica sighed, noting the way there was a little blood when Stiles blew his nose, but more of a deep sinus issue than actually bleeding. “I have tampons if any of you think he’s about to get one, just say so.”

 

Jackson didn’t want to admit it, but Lydia used that trick with him a lot. Jackson was known for getting into a lot of fights a few years back, and being in a contact sport meant it was likely for him to end up sitting in her car with a tampon up his nose at least once a month. If she were more crass, she’d say he obviously had his own time of the month. 

 

He was lucky she wasn’t crass enough to mention they all had one now. 

 

Danny was letting Stiles sit up though,  opening the Gatorade he’d shoved between Boyd’s side and arm when they all sat down. The wolf had been dutifully keeping it there, trying to heat it up to body temperature. “Alright, we got some calories in you, you’ll feel a little more human with some electrolytes too.”

 

Stiles whined, but accepted the bottle, whining even more when Danny didn’t give him full custody of the Gatorade. He huffed at the boy in annoyance, but Danny was just grinning. “I don’t want you pouring it on yourself. Humor me?”

 

Stiles sniffled, letting out a noise that… well, it didn’t quite sound human? More of a distressed pup? It… really didn’t seem like a whine that a human could make, and it made Jackson take a deep breath, trying to get a better scent of the teen, but all he could smell was distress and electric Magic that made him want to sneeze. 

 

Scott left them to it, sitting on the edge of Coach’s desk so he didn’t have everyone in the pack in his ear, and dialed his mom. Coach came out of the office in time to watch the minor chaos as the teens fussed over Stiles, and Melissa picked up her phone. She genuinely tried to take her lunch or a break at the same time as the school did lunch so she could answer any calls she got. “What’s up, Scott?”

 

Scott let the Coach sit close enough that his human hearing could pick up on the call, and leaned towards him. “We finally caught up with Stiles. Well, Jackson did. Coach Finstock let us in his classroom so we could corner him and start working on his frayed bonds, but now I think you might need to check him out.”

 

“…does he seem sick?” She sounded concerned. Just as concerned as the Sheriff did, actually. Coach was watching Stiles with a careful eye, looking sharper than the man ever did, eyes narrowed. 

 

“He needs a mental evaluation. I think he’s having a breakdown. It’s not even anxiety, he’s just crying and trying to pull away from us.”

 

Coach gave him an unamused look. “Autistic meltdown, most likely. He might have to pull out of school for the rest of the week with most of your pack joining him.” Coach sounded like he was upset, actually. Upset over Stiles having to pull out of school probably. 

 

Melissa gave a little sigh at that. “He hasn’t had a meltdown that bad in years.”

 

Finstock snorted, shaking his head. “I’m sure you two have had dead limbs before, yeah? Well Stilinski just had around twenty limbs go dead on him, multiple months in a row, and now he’s getting feeling in them again. Pins and needles in his magic core itself.”

 

Scott hissed. “That’s terrible. Mom, he might need to up his anxiety meds this week, that’s why you should probably check on him.”

 

“I can take the afternoon off if I can find someone to cover my shift, but he needs to go home.”

 

“I already called his dad. Told the Sheriff to pull him out of school for a week. He’s going to need a babysitter, but I hear your pack has enough adults that someone can be with him at all times. I don’t think either of the Hales have jobs; that could work.”

 

Scott whined. “I’m one of his alphas, I should be with him too.”

 

Melissa sighed again, but before she could answer, Coach gave him a firm look. “He is one of your pack, but that doesn’t mean you should be taking on a caregiver role with someone before you’re an adult yourself. You can worry over him, but you need to understand there are times when the adults need to take care of someone.”

 

“Exactly that, Scott, it’s just not mentally sound for you to take on the burden of being a parental figure for your pack. Stiles is your brother, and like always, you will let me and Noah do his parenting. Same as when you’re in the hospital and we don’t let him take care of your every need, brothers. Not each other’s parents.”

 

Scott pouted, cheeks puffing out and turning a bit pink. “Alright. He still needs a mental eval, I think. He’s being… I don’t want to insult him…”

 

Coach sighed, taking the phone from him so he could speak quieter. “Stilinski is regressing. He’s got autistic meltdown for sure, I’ve been a teacher long enough to recognize that one, but he’s also got his bonds so frayed he’s unable to cope at a teen level. He’s not acting out, he’s overwhelmed to the point of pure regression. And his pack is reacting in kind to that regression, by treating him like a cranky toddler. He needs… he should be evaluated to see if this is going to be long term or if he’ll come out of it when his core stops feeling like it’s being stabbed.” 

 

Scott looked shocked. “Wait, I though regression made you forget who you are?”

 

Melissa made a thoughtful noise. “Not always, baby. Sometimes they just can’t cope like an adult, or in this case, a teen, so their brain makes them react in a purely childish way. Stiles isn’t the best at coping, so much as masking. He’ll probably come out of it when his core is more stable?”

 

Coach nodded. “Yeah, but my point is that now that it’s happened, and he’s clearly getting the attention his soul needs, it’s probably going to keep happening regularly so he can meet his needs because he doesn’t stop masking as a teen.”

 

Jackson appeared like a ghost out of hell, making Coach nearly scramble onto his desk to avoid falling over. He glared at the teen a moment, but Jackson seemed focused on the phone. “I think this is normal, actually.”

 

Scott gave him an incredulous look. “For? For Stiles? For Autism? For extreme trauma?”

 

Jackson shrugged. “Sparks are mostly human, humans have different ways of coping with trauma because their brains are wired differently, but Stiles is also AuDHD which is like, way further away from a normal human coping network. Both autistics and ADHD people have a literal disorder that creates it’s own trauma out of nothing, and Stiles has not had an easy life. His most relaxed time in his life was probably as a toddler. He doesn’t know how to cope past that age. Sparks are super strong magically, like really sensitive, which means that even being apart from his pack is its own trauma. So now he’s going to cling to us like a toddler and ask for attention in the only way he knows how, which is being a baby about it. It makes sense.”

 

Melissa sounded like she was speaking through her hand over his face. “I hate the way you put it, but yes. He’s at an all time low, and he’s reliant on the pack to fix it. Jesus he needs a therapist who isn’t Allen Deaton’s sister.”

 

Jackson seemed to think about it. “My foster alpha from London worked in the medical field, and her pack Spark went to therapy there, I can ask if she knows someone, even in another country. Or maybe they have a network in the states too. She’s where I learned that Sparks are really vulnerable to magic changes.”

 

Scott frowned. “The pack you fostered with also had a traumatized Spark?”

 

Jackson nodded. “She regressed the majority of the time, and everyone in the pack took care of her. It seems normal that they cope in the most innocent way.”

 

Scott scowled. “Stiles is not innocent.”

 

Coach snorted. “Just because he’s hyper doesn’t mean he isn’t innocent. Sparks have a naturally innocent magic core. His mom did too, and yes, Claudia was just as cheeky as Stiles is. Their magic core is naturally reliant on others and innocent.”

 

There was a long pause on the line. “Bobby, you grew up with Claudia, right?”

 

“Sure. Met her in preschool. She stole my cookies at snack time and bit my arm hard enough to bruise. The feral genes run strong with them. Noah was a year ahead of us, so he was always just off our radar.”

 

“Can you take the rest of the day off? I want to ask you for a baseline on what you knew about her Spark abilities. She never even told Noah much, other than little things he said he played off as magic tricks.”

 

Finstock nodded, looking a little fond. Claudia had always been so feral. She was quite like Stiles that way. No wonder he was fond of the kid who couldn’t walk a straight line without ending up on the ground. “Yeah, but I’m telling you this now; I'm not babysitting him every time he’s tiny. I can’t even imagine the chaos he could get up to with full Spark powers and the mindset of a toddler.”

 

That sentence alone was chilling. 

 

Danny was rather content being a human pillow for now, even if the boy in his arms kept giving him baleful little glares of sadness. If he were a lesser person, he’d honestly be really into that. Stiles was nothing if not adorable, and Danny had always been weak to those big brown eyes. But Malia might maul him for touching her mate like that. 

 

Malia was also in Danny’s lap, mostly because she was trying to cling to Stiles, and he was pretty weak to her big brown eyes too. The two of them looked way too sweet for brats who terrorized half the town on a regular basis. 

 

“Do you think you can handle something solid now? I think you could use more calories than baby food and Gatorade.”

 

Stiles was hugging the half empty Gatorade bottle to his chest with one hand, the other trapped in Malia’s hold, glaring at Danny through tears. “Not a baby.”

 

“You’re right, sorry. You need more than banana and squash puree, though.”

 

“I don’t, promise.”

 

Danny gestured to the lunchbox. “But it’s peanut butter and honey?”

 

Stiles sniffled once, and looked at the lunchbox with genuine interest, before his stomach growled. He turned a little pink, curling in on himself a little tighter while glaring at his stomach. “You just ate.” He accused his tummy. 

 

Danny snorted. “Your body needs a bit more than that, Stiles.” He opened up the lunchbox, and pulled out a simple sandwich. He liked peanut butter and honey, and Stiles seemed to as well, according to the ravenous look on his face. He handed it over, gently trading it for the Gatorade and helping Stiles get his other hand back from Malia, who switched to curling up around Stiles’s waist. She tucked her face into his hip and Danny was nearly pushed over by the extra bulk of them. Boyd helped him straighten them out while Stiles started to attack the sandwich with vigor, humming in pleasure at the sweetness. 

 

Scott came over and crouched down next to them, gently petting a hand through Malia’s hair. She snuffled at the feeling, relaxing a bit. Her and Stiles were always so vulnerable to their alphas bonds. “Mom is calling me out, Sheriff is calling out Stiles, and I asked her to call Malia’s dad and call her out too. Coach is coming with us. I don’t know if the rest of you want to call out. I think Jackson is coming whether his parents agree or not.”

 

Jackson made a noise of agreement from across the room, watching Finstock log into the teacher portal at his desk. He felt drained, and was starting to think he’s been tapping into more magic than a wolf should be able to handle. He must have been checked out for a while, just focusing on sending calm down the bond towards Stiles, because he jumped when the classroom phone rang. Finstock answered, and proceeded to get in an argument with one of the office workers about him suddenly wanting the rest of the day and tomorrow off. Finstock finally snapped at the secretary that the teacher next door could turn on a movie and hand out worksheets for him. 

 

Stiles was in a post-food coma, tucked into Boyd’s side while Danny pouted at the little Spark being stolen from him. He still had Malia curled up in his lap like a puppy, contenting himself with playing with her hair. Actually, he might be braiding it for her. Boyd was trying to look stoic about it, but he had a hand in Stiles’s hair, nails scritching in a way that turned the boy boneless and liquid. Erica was trying to plaster herself to his back like Lydia had done earlier, but Stiles was too liquid now to get properly tucked up against him. 

 

Lydia was sitting with Allison and Scott, her legs over both their laps while leaning against one of the stolen library cushions. She was texting someone, probably asking her mom to call her out of class.

 

They just had to get Stiles out of the school, and it seemed like the pack was going to follow them home. He pulled out his phone, sending a text to the twins that the rest of the pack would be leaving, but since they didn’t actually have bonds with Stiles right now, it was up to them if they followed. 

 

Jackson wouldn’t even ask Stiles to make bonds with them, he might never want to, but if they kept showing up for him, it would make things easier. 

 

***

 

Finstock was pulled to the principals office when he rounded up the kids being called out today and brought them down. The twins were sneaking out the back of the school, since they didn’t exactly have a guardian to call them out right now, and Erica had followed them, rolling her eyes and saying her parents were both too busy to call her out right now, and she didn’t want them assuming she was having seizures again by asking to leave. Boyd’s parents hadn’t really bothered to ask why he wanted to leave, and it bothered the pack quite a bit. 

 

“Why are so many students leaving? I assume you know since rumor has it you’ve been hiding them in your class the past half hour?”

 

Bobby pursed his lips, clamping down on the rude remarks that wanted to come out. This guy was new, but the kids said he was human, as far as they could tell. “I am telling you this out of a curtesy, considering how it looks suspicious, but in the future you should realize that we really shouldn’t be prying into students personal lives unless we suspect abuse.” The man looked genuinely shocked at his honesty, probably because half the teachers were shameless gossips, but Bobby hadn’t kept Claudia’s secret all this time by blabbing about the supernatural. “-but considering the circumstances, I will tell you that a personal matter has come up that is going to effect all of them, and that I’m going with Stilinski because of my connections to his parents. It’s simply a personal matter that they’ve all been made aware of, and none of them will get any work done today with the distraction. I simply informed their parents to pull them out early so the matter can be settled.”

 

The principal winced, before giving a slow nod. He had never been a principal before, and it was a principal’s job to take care of the faculty first, and a vice-principal’s job to take care of students, but the position had been a little bit cursed in the past few years, and he wanted to make sure things were settled. “Okay, you are right, it’s inappropriate of me to pry, but since I assume this has to do with Stilinski, I hope you tell his father to call me if he needs any accommodations for his child.”

 

Finstock gave him a little half grin, getting the man to relax just a little as the rare non-feral side of Finstock came out. Maybe Claudia gave him a form of magic rabies when she bit him as a three year old. “I’ll do that, and you might expect him to come in and talk to the councilors about moving his schedule around.”

 

He turned and left, not really wanting to say more and convince the wolves in the office that Stiles was going to be pulled from school. Stiles might need some free periods, and they could finally convince him to speed up his graduation, which would simply be good for him to have less people to deal with, and more time to spend with adults that could help take care of him. 

 

Scott, Stiles and Malia were waiting for him by the office doors, the rest of the kids having left. Bobby paused, looking at them with a slight twitch in his jaw. “Tate, hands.”

 

Malia was sitting in a chair next to the door, being watched funny by the secretary on duty, Stiles in her lap, and her hands up his shirt, clearly holding onto his pecs. Bobby sighed when Malia pulled them out, straightening his layers so they could no longer see Stiles’s stomach from the pushed up shirt. It was honestly giving Bobby anxiety, but not because Stiles was a teen -a child- but because he could see how sunken in the boy was, how thin and underfed he’d gotten. His hipbones were sharp and prominent, and his skin was too pale, making those dark little moles stand out stronger than his mother’s ever did. 

 

“Alright, I assume I’ll take my van and follow you to the Stilinski house? Unless you mean to meet somewhere else?”

 

Scott nodded, but before they could leave, something else came up. Actually, someone else came up. 

 

It was the new teacher. The history teacher, pulling the new kid behind him. “Can I talk to you all outside for a moment- Alpha McCall?” That last part was said so low, no one else in the office but Scott and Malia could hear it… except Stiles? He could hear it just a little… but the secretary didn’t hear it, and she was just as close to Mr Yukimura as Stiles was. 

 

Scott pulled in a sharp breath of air, and nodded. “Alright.”

 

Outside was a bit awkward at first. Frankly, Kira was possibly the most awkward person Malia thinks she’s ever met, and Malia lived in the forest for a solid eight years. Her dad seemed awkward too, but he stood out more, more confident in talking to them. 

 

“As Kira has just found out, my wife is a Kitsune spirit. These are the direct opposite of a Nogitsune spirit, and the presence of a Nogitsune possession in Beacon Hills called my wife back to this town. At first she thought it was to help your Spark, Stiles, but when we got here, he’d already been exorcised. Noshiko insisted that we were still meant to be here to help.”

 

Scott looked between the man and Stiles, who was a little pale, and had moved out of Malia’s space, holding onto the back of Scott’s shirt like a scared child. Mr Yukimura was addressing Scott only, not the others, not even Coach. “What is it she thinks she needs to help Stiles with?”

 

“When a fox spirit, either Kitsune or Nogitsune, possesses as a human and is excised, it leaves behind an opening. An infant Chikyu, meaning an earth Kitsune who is subject to change as you grow, will take place in that opening to the ether. Kitsune spirits naturally stay in that ether, and their abilities are given to you in times of need. It is one of two ways to create a new Kitsune. The other is to be born to one.” He placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder, and she looked oddly melancholy at the knowledge. “My wife wished to come here to train, or, I guess, help Stiles settle into his new status, as well as finally bringing Kira into her training as well.”

 

Stiles pushed his face into Scott’s shoulder, making a little whimpering sound, and Scott wanted to tell the man to stop, to shut up and never speak to them again. But he was only telling them the truth, and Stiles was no longer just a Spark. Scott bit his lip in anxiety. “Does it change anything that Stiles isn’t a normal human? He’s already a Spark.”

 

Mr Yukimura stood up straighter, giving a little nod, teaching mode activated. “Yes. A Spark is a magical human with a silver soul, often called innocent because that soul base means their magic is almost entirely centered around the moon cycle, and intent based magic. This means that Stiles’s Chikyu spirit will focus it’s energy on the earth, on the forest. He will naturally heal nature and grow to be a guardian of the forest we now live in. It also means that his Kitsune spirit will integrate more physically into his body. I would think the intention magic would give him fangs and the ability to growl or howl, because he is surrounded by wolves, and will follow his alphas’ leads.”

 

Stiles popped his head out from Scott’s shoulder with a needy whine, but before Scott could curl his brother into his chest, Stiles gave the man a puppy like look, one that made Kira pull in a sharp intake of air, pupils dilating in a way that only Malia noticed. 

 

“The Nemeton. Could I heal the Nemeton if I have earth and healing based magic?”

 

The man relaxed a little, and now that he had been directly addressed by the teen, gave him a smile. “You could do that. You only need to learn how to control your magic.”

 

Stiles’s excitement melted back into a look of worry, and Scott had to give his chin a tug to get him to release his bottom lip. Stiles huffed at him, but that building whine melted out of his chest. His alpha was paying him attention, so he didn’t need to make needy pup noises to get taken care of. He didn’t like that that was so instinctual now, that he’s been doing little things to grab Scott or Derek’s attention all summer in the hopes that they could capture him and take care of him, but he could guess why it was instinct now. 

 

“I don’t want to be possessed again.”

 

Mr Yukimura gave him a look so soft it melted Stiles a bit more. “You aren’t being possessed anymore. Your Chikyu isn’t possessing you, they exist as an extension of your soul in the ether, and when you need them, their powers will come to you and help you. When that opening to the ether came, a fox didn’t step into it, but your soul grew a Chikyu to cover that opening, and protect you from the other side. Just like the bite, a Kitsune spirit growing in its place is a gift. Long life and power to help grow the land. The possession wasn’t good, but its result will protect you from it ever happening again.”

 

Stiles was still for a long moment, and finally curled into Scott’s side again. “Thank you. I want to go home now. Everything is very big.”

 

Scott pushed a hand into Stiles’s hair, and then his nose to gently scent him. Stiles was still the most vulnerable member of the pack, the one who got in the most trouble usually. He still needed training. He was just a kit now. 

 

“Thank you for informing us. I think that explains a lot about some of the added changes Stiles has been going through. I assume your wife would like to come meet Stiles?”

 

Mr Yukimura nodded. “I was hoping to exchange numbers so my wife can find you soon. Maybe tomorrow, just to get official meetings done?”

 

Scott let the man hand over his phone, putting in the Sheriff’s number and then his and Derek’s. “Stiles will be out of school for the rest of the week, that’s the Sheriff’s number so you can call his dad, mine and Derek’s numbers as his alphas.”

 

“Thank you. For official meetings, we’ll want you or Alpha Hale to be involved, as this is pack business.”

 

Scott nodded, and handed Stiles back off to Malia when she made grabby hands to get him back. Malia grabbed Stiles by the waist and tugged him close again. “I’m sure you’ll be in touch soon.”

 

Stiles looked a bit lost in the back of the jeep, but he’d tucked himself into Malia’s chest, looking close to an overstimulated nap. He was beyond the need for pack cuddles now, but Malia was his favorite pillow, so she didn’t count. Cuddles with Malia either meant fun playtimes or naps. He ran his fingers over a rough patch in her jeans, full body shuddering a little at the ticklish sensation of the texture over his fingertips. “Scotty?”

 

Scott hummed, slowing to a stop at a light. “Yeah, buddy?”

 

“Everything is really fuzzy? And it’s hard to remember why I hid from the pack.”

 

Scott might have pushed the speed limit a little at that. Stiles was regressing again, too overwhelmed to think about why he’s been so insistent on not relying on the pack to keep him safe. Scott couldn’t help but think about how little Stiles had been when he last gave his parents his full reliance. He was probably still a toddler. If he was regressing back to then, Scott probably had a limited time to get him to the Sheriff before he’d cry about not having his pops. 

 

“I know, buddy, sometimes our brains have issues that are just too big to think about, so we try and put them aside while we feel little.”

 

Malia made a soft little noise. “Is that what that is? I thought I was having memory loss.”

 

Scott pulled into the neighborhood with a concerned noise. “Mals? You’ve been feeling like that too?”

 

She shrugged in the rear view mirror. “Sometimes issues feel so big that you can’t handle them, and then my brain gets fuzzy and I curl up in Dad’s bed til it’s better. Dad pets my hair and brings me snacks, sometimes he gets me to take a nap. Dad says that food or sleep can both reset your body when you feel bad. He hasn’t been wrong yet.”

 

Scott figured that she might well just be tired or hungry at those times, but she might benefit from talking to Mom about it anyways. They needed to find her a therapist In The Know anyways. The human therapists hadn’t really known how to approach her. For all Scott knew, trauma and exhaustion could probably trigger the same regressive headspace, or maybe Malia was just particularly vulnerable when she was tired. 

 

“Yeah, I guess. Sometimes it’s just easier to shut off your brain for a bit, come back at the issue with fresh eyes.”

 

Noah Stilinski was already on the porch when they pulled up into the driveway. The rest of the teens had dotted along the street to leave the space free for them, but the garage was open today, so Scott pulled into it, figuring the rest of the adults might need some extra space when they finally got there. 

 

Noah only waited long enough for Scott to turn off the jeep before he was opening the backseat, looking in at Stiles, who was sluggishly sitting up, holding a hand out to him. “Ta, przytul nie, proszę?”

 

Noah acquiesced, pulling his son into the asked for hug, which was kind of a mess with him leaning into the jeep and Malia still sitting so close to Stiles. “Miecio, my sweet boy, your independence has run out on you, hasn’t it?”

 

Stiles sniffled, climbing out of the jeep with a most clumsy demeanor than usual, nearly upending them both if Noah weren’t so used to his boy causing chaos wherever he went. “Jackson started it! He found me in the cafeteria and hugged me and now we have a bond and now I want to cry because they kept hugging me and Danny made me eat baby food and I’m not a baby, Ta, I’m not, but then I cried and now they think I’m a baby!”

 

He was crying again, letting out those pathetic little puppy whimpers that made Scott’s chest ache, and made Malia want to sit over him and growl protectively. She settled on whimpering too, letting Scott pull her out of the backseat and curling into his side. Finstock had found a parking space across the street and was coming up to them with a caution about all the emotions that were happening. Noah gave him a look that said they’d be talking about this, making Finstock wrinkle his nose in distaste. There was pretty much no one in the town that knew him better than the Sheriff since Claudia died. 

 

Noah gently hushed him. “I know, Miecio, sweet boy, I know, sometimes life is so intense. Do you need your heavy blankie?” Noah winced at his own words, clamping his mouth shut but refusing to stop rocking the boy in place. For once, Stiles didn’t balk at the childish term. Stiles had always called it his heavy blankie as a child, not a weighted blanket, and sometimes Noah forgot to call it by the adult term when Stiles was in the middle of a meltdown or a shutdown. 

 

Stiles would accept it during a shutdown, since it was hard to talk, let alone argue, but during a meltdown, -which this seemed much more akin to- Stiles would tear up again, whining that he wasn’t a baby anymore. 

 

Stiles just snuffled into his shoulder and nodded. “Dark room, please, Ta.”

 

“Such good communication, Miecio. Dark room and a heavy blankie.”

 

Bobby looked like he was going to die of awkwardness, and shook his head, moving around the Stilinski’s so he could let himself into the house through the garage. Scott and Malia cautiously trailed him, and found themselves in an overcrowded kitchen full of teens and adults arguing about magic. 

 

Except for Peter and Melissa, tucked into a corner near Chris, who was sitting on the counter and texting. They seemed to be talking about autism accommodations?

 

Finstock left them there, and they thought he was escaping the room, but he seemed to have a place in mind, going up the stairs that no one else had touched. 

 

Scott knew about Coach and Stiles’s mom being friends growing up, but he hadn’t realized the man would know the Stilinski house well enough to go searching for Stiles’s supplies himself. 

 

Malia pulled out her phone, giving a relieved sigh. “Dad says he’ll come by to pick me up later, and he doesn’t want to add someone else to a crowd unless I want him here now.”

 

Scott looked at her carefully. “Do you want to ask him to come? If you want him here, that’s also okay.”

 

Malia flushed a little. “I’m fine. Knowing I get to go home at night is nice.”

 

“Okay. I’m gonna go figure out what Mom is talking about.”

 

Melissa had a copy of the DSM-4 in her hands, and seemed to have a plethora of sticky notes in the regression and autism sections. “-this book is so out of date to begin with, and I’m not regularly taking care of autistic patients enough-“

 

“But you do go to the inpatient mental health ward semi-regularly, so you should have enough recent knowledge to figure things out.”

 

Melissa looked stressed still. “I just hope he doesn’t need to be medicated for this, it would be nice if he could just ride this one out. Spend a week getting treated like the child he never let himself be, come out of it naturally. The safest form of regression is when it’s done for mental health, and he is extremely stressed right now, mentally and physically.”

 

“Magically, too.” Scott gave Peter a cautious look as he stepped up to them, somewhat confused on what stake Peter had in this conversation, but just glad his mom had someone to talk it out with and not just stress over it. Stiles was her second baby; the unexpected one, and it would kill her not to give him the proper care he needed. 

 

He watched Derek leave the kitchen to the garage, and could mildly hear Stiles talking to his dad in stilted English. It wasn’t because it was in English, it was that he was having trouble talking in his regressed state. “His soul is… his magical core is just tattered right now. He needs help rebuilding all his bonds. We got him to calm down, but none of those threads are healthy enough to be strong, and…”

 

He trailed off, looking at the book in Peter’s hands. Scott poked the cover of it and finding it to be a book on special education. Scott’s brows furrowed and he considered what he knew about the man. “Were you a teacher before- uh… before?”

 

Peter gave a slow nod. “Well, yes. I got my certifications in special education, minored in ‘magical history’ under a Wiccan that kept her real bestiary’s under lock and key for the humans, and an open invitation to magical creatures. I taught at Beacon Elementary and did homeschooling magical studies with the pups.”

 

Scott didn’t ask him about the time in third grade that Stiles had said he might not be in the same class as Scott next year, because his dad had gotten him a space in the special ed class. Stiles had been embarrassed, but Scott had talked to his mom, who said that Stiles needed extra help with his work and counseling. A week later, the Hale fire had happened, and the next year, Stiles had still been in the same class as Scott. They hadn’t gotten a new special ed teacher til Scott and Stiles were moving on to middle school. 

 

He didn’t say it, but his eyes did burn a little. 

 

Scott nodded himself. “Okay. So… maybe you and Mom should just try and evaluate him together, compare notes to see what fits and what doesn’t? Also… maybe evaluate Malia too? She might be having similar issues.”

 

Bobby passed them in the kitchen, arms full of Stiles’s meltdown supplies, and went out the same door to the garage. 

 

The teens were mostly in the living room, thankfully, and Scott moved so he could open up the Sheriff’d office, turning on a single dim lamp in the corner of the room and dropping the couch’s throw pillows to the ground with the cushions. Stiles wanted a quiet, dark room, and the first floor would overflow if they kicked the other teens out of the living room. 

 

The garage door opened, and Derek came in. He was holding Stiles against his hip like a baby, the plaid weighted blanket tucked around his form as he curled into his second alpha’s shoulder, his right hand fisted in Derek’s shirt, and his left thumb tucked firmly in his mouth. He had tear tracks on his face, and looked embarrassed again. 

 

Melissa gave a little sigh of worry, and Scott could feel through bonds that Peter wanted to scoop the teen up next. Stiles just turned to tuck his face in Derek’s shoulder, watching Noah and Bobby come back in the house after them. He felt so small, and everything was blurry and hard to understand. 

 

It’s been a long few months. 

Notes:

Derek is gonna be the real catalyst for Stiles starting to relax into his regression I think. Also, Peter got into special education because of Derek, because at the time when Derek was diagnosed they only had Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and that lasted about two sessions before Peter refused to let Talia take him back. When she realized what they did, she also refused, and that’s when Peter started specializing in autism education.

Yes, Stiles was supposed to be one of his students at about 9-10 before the fire. He’ll get his chance to help him out now, tho.

Derek is mostly the reason Stiles is relaxing because he’s absolutely GOO over regressed Stiles. He would like to carry him around and give him all the cuddles Stiles needs. Very alpha instinct of him.

Kira is soft for little Stiles too, but that’s a bit of a different relationship.

Translation of what Stiles is saying to John:
Ta simply means Da; ‘hug me, please.’

Chapter 3: Bobby’s Anxiety

Summary:

In which Bobby Finstock admits that he’s kept a secret that’s possibly (in his opinion) ruined his and the Stilinski’s lives. Noah thinks he’s being a drama queen and should calm down a little.

Notes:

The chapter that is almost entirely in the POV of Bobby Finstock and a little of Noah Stilinski. We’ll get back to Stiles and the pack children soon enough.

Also, I DID actually plan on this being overall the backstory of Bobby… but it might not fully fit in with the vibe of chapter 1 because I didn’t expect Claudia and Bobby to be such a fucking package deal since toddlerhood, and also… Bobby’s own family hated everything he stands for and is still trying to get his own life in order.

Closeted. He’s massively closeted and it’s been this haunting ghost that’s followed him since he was a teen. Yikes.

Bobby Finstock was panicking just a little. Few things in his life had gone as expected, but seeing his best friend’s baby boy in pain hurt more than he could put into words. 

 

It wasn’t even completely fair to think of him like that. Bobby had been friends with Noah as long as he’d been on Claudia’s radar. That was their baby, and he wasn’t supposed to have any of Claudia’s magical affinity. She’d mentioned she got it from her granddaddy, and that these things were supposed to skip whole generations, so Bobby and her had never had the magical talk with Noah. 

 

He should have told Claudia they needed to tell him the moment Stiles had been born under a full blue moon. They hadn’t told him, and now Stiles was suffering because no one in his life knew how to take care of a Spark. 

 

Claudia wouldn’t be angry at him, but Bobby hadn’t known about the Nogitsune, and he hated himself for that. Maybe one of Claudia’s journals could have helped. She’d left most of them with him when her condition started to deteriorate, not wanting Noah and Stiles to find out while grieving, and Bobby had read a few of them. She was far more involved with Druids than even he knew about. 

 

She wouldn’t be angry at Bobby, and that made him so mad at himself. Of course he hadn’t known about the Nogitsune! It had happened over the summer… but he hated himself for getting to the point where he wasn’t seeing Stiles and Noah for entire summers, letting them go without contact for long enough that Claudia’s baby boy got possessed by a chaos spirit that refused to let him rebond with his pack. And now the grief from it that told him he shouldn’t be around them at all… that he was still dangerous.

 

Bobby couldn’t call Noah while he was driving to the Stilinski house, not warning to tell the Sheriff that his son was no longer human over the phone. He needed to let Noah know in person, to reassure him Stiles wasn’t going to turn into a Nogitsune. Not if they could keep him stable and safe and loved… raise him like Claudia would have wanted her baby raised…

 

He pulled up to the house, parking next to what he thought was Allison’s car across the street, and for a moment, just had to sit there and catch his breath. He could hear the ghost of his best friend telling him he should have been more present in Stiles’s life, and that he never should have let him and Noah get distant when she died. 

 

He couldn’t deal with that now. Mischief was the priority now. They had to keep him safe, and in this case, that might mean going back to when he was little again. 

 

When Mischief was little, he had Uncle Bobby there. Uncle Bobby would play with him and spend his free days with Claudia, and sometimes she’d take him down to the school for lacrosse practice so Mischief could watch the kids play and run out some energy. 

 

Frankly, Claudia was just as much of a taskmaster as Bobby was some days, and they didn’t take that as an excuse to slack off. If anything, those brats behaved more for her than him. 

 

He pocketed his keys and got out of the van, following the sound of Stiles talking with Noah in the garage, not a word of English, talking about how scared he’d been today. 

 

Mischief had always had generalized anxiety. Even if he’d never had a panic attack before Claudia passed, he got anxiety when he was left alone with new people. Claudia stayed home with him because of that anxiety. At first, she’d just loved being with him all the time, their high energy bouncing off each other and keeping them both happy and entertained for days, but then it was pretty clear that Mischief didn’t do well around other kids. He had trouble making friends, or just doing well in places he couldn’t see at least one parent from.

 

He did well being left alone with Bobby, but he was the exception, not the rule. 

 

Stiles was curled into his father’s chest when Bobby got there, and after an awkward moment where Noah gave Bobby a look that made a pit form in his stomach like when his dad used to come home mad when Bobby was little, Bobby left them there and went inside, deciding to get Stiles’s ‘heavy blankie’ for him. 

 

Stiles’s room was different than the last time Bobby was here, but Noah’s was the same. Stiles had a newer desk littered with journals and a bin of carefully labeled USB drives next to his laptop, but his weighted blanket was folded carefully at the bottom of his bed like usual. Bobby knew Mischief wasn’t folding his own blanket, but it was a panic attack in waiting if Noah and him couldn’t find it, so Noah always made a point of folding it at the foot of his bed if he found it anywhere. 

 

There was another one downstairs in the living room, if it were still there, but that was a weighted-cooling lap blanket, which Stiles would curl up with when they watched baseball or movies. It was the only way to get him calmed down enough to stop trying to get up and move around. Bobby remembered how Mischief would watch cartoons standing as a child. If he couldn’t move around while doing something, it usually wasn’t worth doing to him. 

 

He left the room that made his head spin, and went looking through Noah’s closet for one of his old college sweaters. 

 

Bobby remembered Claudia putting him in Noah’s sweaters when they were younger. When Mischief was too little to fit in Noah’s sweaters. Bobby would grab one of the deputy’s sweaters and throw them on when one of them asked him to come over for a movie or dinner. For all that Stiles was still a twig of a boy -too much adderall messing with his stomach probably- his dad was built well enough that they could both steal his clothes. 

 

He needed to get out of his own head. Everything felt like he was reliving pieces of his past that he never should have left behind; regret over losing them and annoyance that he had never managed to move on anyways. 

 

And he’d never even left them behind. He just stopped spending as much time with them. Maybe he thought he was being kinder, not letting a constant reminder of Claudia cloud them all. Or maybe it was because he wanted to lick his own wounds in private too. 

 

He grabbed a college sweatshirt that Bobby knew felt sinfully soft and soothing, but after realizing Stiles must have switched them to a fragrance free detergent for sensitive werewolf noses, he turned to the dresser to look for Noah’s cologne… and grabbed Claudia’s perfume instead, putting a puff of the soft scent on the collar and wrists. He refused to admit that it calmed himself down more than expected. 

 

He ignored the many creatures littering the house -Stiles had seemed to gather a very sizable pack in around him, especially since they all seemed so concerned for the young human-but-not-anymore in their midst- and went back out the garage. 

 

“Stiles, can you look at me?”

 

Stiles was making sad puppy noises that hurt Bobby’s soul, so he pushed past the upset alpha and Noah. “Hey Mischief, I got your blankie and Ta’s sweater for you.” Stiles was sitting on the tail of his jeep, and scrambled up, nearly face planting before Derek caught him and held him there. It took a moment of flailing that made Noah sigh as his only son nearly took down a fully grown alpha werewolf with his pointy elbows. And then it started again as Stiled tried to struggle out of his plaid overshirt so he could replace it with his dad’s sweater, and the struggle didn’t stop til Derek grunted and pulled it off for him. 

 

“One day someone will try and kidnap him only to die by his hands on accident.” Bobby muttered in awe as he let the alpha pull the college sweater over the teen and wrap him in the weighted blanket.

 

Derek smirked at the kid, before that cocky grin melted into something that looked soft. “Can I have a hug now?”

 

Stiles let the man pull him in, and before he could complain, Derek picked him up to put him on his hip like a toddler, holding the weighted blanket tight to cover his pup’s vulnerable back. Stiles squeaked, but let him, bringing a hand up to hold the back of Derek’s shirt. 

 

Bobby could see the moment the kid realized who’s scent was on his shirt, nearly the same time as Noah did, the man hissing and putting a hand on Bobby’s arm, and Stiles brought his other hand up to curl the sleeve against his face, going lax against Derek’s shoulder at the comfort. 

 

“I think maybe we should get you inside. Peter and Melissa want to talk to you, and then I think a nap is in order.” Stiles didn’t protest about the nap, eyes half mast as he laid over Derek’s shoulder to look at Noah and Bobby. He had his thumb in his mouth just a little, and Bobby was already planning to get him teething jewelry as soon as possible. He could only imagine Stiles slipping up in the middle of a class and being embarrassed about being seen sucking his thumb. 

 

Pens or his clothes? Absolutely normal. His shirt collars were half hole because of that oral fixation. Even pens. Bobby was pretty sure him and Tate were in a competition to see who could get the most highlighters in their mouth at once. But he’d be embarrassed about being seen with his thumb. 

 

He didn’t seem to mind as his older alpha carried him out of the garage and into the kitchen. When he gave a little sigh around his thumb and turned to look at them with big doe eyes and tear tracks still on his cheeks, it wasn’t out of embarrassment, but a level of exhaustion that made Bobby want to pull a baby boy Mischief into a pile of limbs for naptime with Noah and Bobby… and Claudia… the ache was because Claudia wasn’t there to cuddle into that pile with them, and because Mischief was a big boy Stiles now, and Bobby wasn’t sure if he wanted those cuddle naps from Bobby and Noah… or his new pack…

 

Peter was giving him a funny look, like he could tell Bobby was aching with the grief, and Bobby wondered if grief had a specific scent to it. Wolves could tell emotions by scent, right? 

 

Melissa came over with a doting mommy look and a washcloth in her hand, just different enough from Claudia not to make him hurt, and started rubbing Stiles’s back. “Hey kiddo, can I clean those icky tear tracks for you?”

 

Stiles whined just a little, but lifted his head long enough for Melissa to clean him off. She grinned and tweaked his nose when she was done, making Stiles grin a little back. 

 

“Peter and I want to ask Stiles some questions, but this is a tired boy, so we don’t think it should take any longer than a half hour. I’m sure he can have a nap afterwards.”

 

Noah hummed a little, looking between Derek and Peter. He knew that Peter was a special education teacher. He knew because he read the forms before signing Stiles up to be moved to his class before the Hale fire. Even Melissa had considered that Scott might benefit from some extra help after the divorce, and the town was small enough that they had few slots taken up, and Peter could have easily taken on two more kids without issue. 

 

As it turns out, Peter’s returned sanity was probably going to come in handy for helping Stiles cope with his issues. Even if half the kids were still suspicious of him. 

 

Stiles looked over at Peter with a careful gaze, and the room froze when those big brown eyes lit up with a silver glow in response to Peter cautiously flashing blue at him. 

 

“What?” Noah looked at Stiles in an almost frantic expression of concern, reaching a hand for his son’s neck to try and turn the boy back to him. 

 

Stiles whimpered. It’s not like he could see his eyes, but he knew his had flashed silver. He could feel it. “Ta, I’m not possessed anymore, it’s gone-“

 

“Noah, he’s right. Mischief isn’t… possessed. This is a natural result of surviving that possession which will actually keep him from ever being possessed again.”

 

Noah turned to Bobby with a little glare; not the actually angry one, but more concern and annoyance about not being kept in the loop. “What aren’t you telling me, Bobby? Humans don’t have glowing eyes, even Sparks! Claudia’s eyes never glowed like that and you’d be disgusted about how often they were my focus.”

 

Bobby flushed a little, looking away. “We just found out about this, Noah, like, as soon as we left the school. The new history teacher’s wife is a Kitsune and he didn’t want us running off without realizing Stiles wasn’t… he’s not…”

 

Peter pulled in a little breath of air, but it was Chris that spoke. “Oh, that’s rare- the number of known human’s surviving Nogitsune possession over centuries are numbers less than ten, probably less than five. But there are always stories about the Kitsunes who take in those survivors afterwards. Kitsunes and Nogitsunes are all the same species, it’s just that Nogitsunes are completely corrupted versions of them, so the Kitsunes take in the survivors and make them one of them.”

 

Peter shook his head, putting a hand on Chris’s arm. “Not make them a Kitsune, but train them because they’re already becoming one. Once their soul is opened up into the ether, that connection is permanent. Stiles is growing a Kitsune on the other side of the ether.”

 

Noah’s right hand closed into a fist, and opened again, then twice more as he took deep breaths. “And you say that’s not possession?”

 

“Of course not,” Peter replied. “No other Kitsune spirit has stepped into that connection, he’s gestating a new one, which is something that other Kitsune’s do at birth, is they grow their ether spirit. Stiles, is only just starting one from infancy.”

 

Noah’s gaze snapped back to Bobby. “And he’ll never be possessed again?”

 

Bobby nodded. “One of Claudia’s bestiaries had sections on Kitsunes, it seems like it’s not possible for their human counterparts to be possessed, not even a Nogitsune could take over the host, demons could never get a hold of him because his own spirit would tear them apart to save the human counterpart. It’s in a section labeled ‘Etherites’ so I assume any creature in that category can’t be possessed. Stiles can’t be hurt like that again. And one day he’ll be stronger magically than Claudia was, and essentially immortal. He wasn’t supposed to have spark powers to begin with, but from what I’ve heard, he’s had a lot of triggers to unlock them in the past year.”

 

Noah relaxed with an air of knee weakening relief that made Bobby put a hand on his arm. That was what Noah had needed to hear. “He can’t get sick like his momma, won’t have heart issues like me?”

 

“No. He’ll be fine, Noah. Mischief is fine, he just needs a little help adjusting right now.”

 

The man closed his eyes and sighed. “Not like I haven’t been getting used to him being magically different for a while now. If this can protect him magically, that’s good. Is the Kistune going to be helping him? The… the teacher’s wife, I mean?”

 

Scott poked his head out of the living room where the pack teens were listening. “I gave him mine and Derek and your numbers, but I told him to call you since your position as his parent should come equal or greater to ours. I think he wants to bring his wife over tomorrow so she can meet Stiles. Her daughter is the same age as us, and she’s going to be starting her training soon too, since Malia outed her.”

 

Malia growled as she sat on the couch, looking uncomfortable with Erica pressed into her side, but allowing the other girl to pet her long nails through Malia’s hair anyways. “I didn’t know she didn’t realize she wasn’t human. I asked what she was and she didn’t believe me til I told her I was a werecoyote. I did her a favor by taking the question of how her parents would tell her out of their hands.”

 

Stiles was snoozing on Derek’s shoulder, and Derek took that as a chance to interject before this could take any longer. “I think Stiles needs to talk with Melissa and Peter before he naps, wakes up deciding he doesn’t want to talk, and we’re stuck without answers. Again.”

 

“I put cushions on the floor of Papa Stilinski’s office. Don’t turn on the big lights, he’ll get overwhelmed.” Scott was already going back into the living room, where the teens seemed to be having a meeting of their own. Probably about how best to help Stiles when he was finally back in school. 

 

Peter looked at Melissa with a smile. “You and Derek take the pup in, I have something I need to get, I think.”

 

Melissa led Derek off with Stiles in his arms, and Peter turned to Noah. “You keep things from Stiles’s childhood in the attic, right?”

 

Noah nodded, looking suspicious. “Yeah. Except for a few items that got passed on to friends or tossed, he’s got most of his stuff up there.”

 

Peter nodded. “Baby toys?”

 

“Well, yeah, but it’s not like we have to give him his old toys, I think he’d just get frustrated if you tried to baby him too much right now.”

 

Peter shook his head. “I’m actually asking because the majority of all baby toys also function as stim toys to help build sensory connections in infancy. I’m actually more inclined to treat this like an autistic regression than anything else right now; even if I also understand that he’s experiencing age regression as well; and autistic regression typically means that stimming will be important to him, and extra help is required. Anything that he’s been to therapy for to help him with, is likely to fall to disrepair. I suggest baby toys because even if he has other stim toys, what he chooses now also gives us an indication to what’s going to ground him now.”

 

Noah pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a few deep breaths. “That’s actually more worrisome than him no longer being human. He didn’t even tie his shoes til he was nine. Okay, I think we have sensory toys in the attic. Come with me, I might need you to move some boxes.” He turned to Bobby. “Can you rearrange the kitchen? Grab the kids if you need help, knives out of reach, put glass cups and plates on higher shelves, put anything with a lid on lower shelves. I don’t trust that his coordination won’t slip too.”

 

Bobby nodded. “Babyproofing, got it. Shocking to remember he was once more clumsy than he is now.”

 

Danny and Lydia came in, looking like they wanted to help Bobby, but Danny had turned pale at his words. “There’s no way he can get clumsier. He almost took Greenberg out of the gene pool this summer in the grocery store. There were legitimate injuries to at least four people there.”

 

Bobby sighed, letting Lydia move around him til she found the appliances cabinet, and Bobby didn’t bother asking what she was looking for. “Damn. He almost took out my biggest nuisance. Try a little harder next time, kiddo. He was worse once, yes. His momma would bring him down to the school to run off energy with the lacrosse team. The routine of it is probably why he’s on the team at all, even if the games are spent on the bench. The amount of grass that kid has probably eaten in his life-“ he shook his head in wry amusement. 

 

It was how he interacted with them all after Stiles had been born. Noah had been away in the army for four years, stationed close enough that he could come back to see them, and it always felt like them, not just Claudia he was coming to see. Claudia and Noah had been married after she was eighteen, but she’d moved in with Bobby while they both worked on their degrees. By the time Bobby was teaching for over a year, and Claudia had started working at a bookstore, Noah had come back and they were expecting little Stiles soon enough. 

 

Bobby hadn’t moved out with them, and it was only his grandma being too frail to leave. When she passed and left him the house, he’d been too unsure of his place in Noah and Claudia’s life to go back to them. Mischief had been two at that point. 

 

Claudia spent a lot of time with him, all through the pregnancy she’d show up at the lacrosse field after school to help him bully those kids into shape, and she did it with authority. Then she kept coming back, first with a baby carrier, then a sling, and eventually, running Stiles about til the child was exhausted. 

 

Noah would drag him off for drinks or demand he show up for a barbecue. He didn’t ask Bobby to come for Halloween, which was the only holiday he didn’t ask for him, because Claudia had gotten them pitted against each other to see who could do the best decorations and candy, and asked the students to judge them. 

 

The past few years of holidays had been empty for all of them. Stiles would demand a tree, and Bobby was required to help decorate it, but it wasn’t a week of celebrations and lights and sweets that Claudia always used to do. She made these amazing treats that were passed down from her family, and even more that she found on cooking shows. Stiles would make her favorite peanut butter chocolate balls, cocoa, fudge with the same recipe as hers, so much more. 

 

But instead of parties, he’d package them up into treat boxes and hand them out to friends and neighbors. Instead of demanding Bobby come over all of Hanukkah to light candles, he’d do it quietly with Noah, putting pictures of it on Facebook. 

 

Things were different. Noah and Stiles never stopped reaching out for him, but it felt less easy to slot into their life without someone who always showed up at his side when she was bored. Without someone who came to him first whenever she had big news. 

 

But there was one thing that stayed the same, was that he would stay there when they needed someone, up until things were settled again. 

 

***

 

“I’m pretty sure that Stiles has a bag of fidget toys in his room, you know.”

 

Peter hummed, helping Noah pull down the attic ladder. “Fidget toys for teens are completely different from sensory toys for babies. Harder, more clicky and less soft and pettable. You should grab those too, if you know where they are, but be warned, any loss in coordination could possibly lead to him pinching fingers or hurting himself with the heavier ones. Autistic regression is how I’m going to handle this, and with his personal issues, he’s going to be fumbling.”

 

Noah seemed to consider that a moment. “That… does make sense. Should we expect more panic attacks? Is his anxiety going to get worse?”

 

Peter nodded. “It already has. I thought he was just stressed lately, and he is, but if it’s autistic regression, which is aligned with age regression, then anything he’s had to go to therapy or learn coping skills for? Treat it like it’s not applicable anymore, or at least, when you see it’s lack, adapt and don’t stress it. These things build back up again.”

 

He pointedly didn’t add on that none of this could be built back up again until he was actually settled as a whole other species. 

 

Noah pulled out a plastic tub. They had redone the attic’s storage a few years back after Stiles had found one of his mother’s journals in a box with water damage. Stiles had been inconsolable about it at the time. 

 

At least that meant his neurotic child had gone on a cleaning spree and Noah was relatively certain anything Peter decided to take with him would be safe. 

 

He let Peter steal the whole tub after taking a look inside. “Dusty, but not gross, no bugs I can hear or dead ones I can smell. Do you guys clean up here?”

 

Noah shrugged, using the stick to push the ladder back into its place and close the attic door. “Stiles likes to keep his mom’s stuff clean and tidy. Found some waterlogged journals last year, turned into a cleaning spree and a ban on cardboard.”

 

Peter hummed. “I will admit, plastic tubs are much cleaner, the majority of the time.”

 

Noah saw him off to the door of his office, looking inside to see Melissa making notes as she gave Stiles a basic checkup. Stiles wasn’t crying anymore, but he looked exhausted, and was leaning against Derek’s arm. Derek looked relaxed, but he also had that tight set around his eyes that said he was worried. 

 

The teens were still in the living room when Noah left Peter to go through the toys and find something soothing, trusting that Melissa could keep the wolves in line. She always could. “You kids okay?”

 

Scott looked up at Noah with tension in his jaw, but the arm around Allison’s shoulders seemed artificially relaxed. Like he got when he was trying to calm a spooked animal. “Shouldn’t we be asking you that?”

 

Noah frowned at him. “You absolutely shouldn’t be. Scott, you’re still taking on too much as a teenage alpha, and not relying on us enough if you think you should ask that.”

 

Scott winced. They’d had a lot of talks about how being an alpha didn’t mean he had inherent care over all the pack, especially not the adults who needed to act like adults and not rely on a teen to fix their lives. That wasn’t Scott’s burden to bear. He flushed, looking down at his lap, his shoulders finally starting to actually relax. “I’m still worried about you, but not because I am an alpha, just because Stiles is your son, and my best friend.”

 

Malia rolled off the couch after wriggling out of Erica’s hold, and coming up to poke the sheriff in the side. “Stiles is strong. But the stronger something is, the worse it breaks. That’s how that’s said, yeah?”

 

Noah couldn’t help but huff a little laugh at his son’s girlfriend. Malia was sweeter than most kids her age had any right to be, and that was including all that trauma she had been through. 

 

Being around her often gave both Stilinski’s hope that maybe the trauma wouldn’t completely wipe out all good they could see. “‘If you don’t bend, you’ll break.’ Close enough though. But you’re right, and Stiles is still all there, he’s just… I don’t think he broke, I think he’s just so burnt out that he can’t function for the time being. I’m sure you all know what that exhaustion can do to a person.”

 

Allison winced, remembering how she’d cried on the Sheriff just this summer, talking about how things were just too much and she was scared and everything was changed. They all had at least one breakdown like that. “Yeah. Guess the difference is, none of the rest of us are gestating a new infant immortal being inside of us.”

 

Bobby showed up at Noah’s arm, giving Malia a little shove from around his back that made her snap her fangs at him in such a playful way that Noah remembered she’d admitted she’d had issues being teen and big all the time herself. Noah gave her shoulders a little squeeze and nudged her towards the pile of Jackson and Lydia. 

 

“Not quite how I would explain it. More like he’s bonded himself to the ether, so the ether, using his own soul as a tether, an… umbilical cord, I’d say, is growing a piece of his soul into a larger and less sapient being on the other side. It won’t have a different personality than Stiles, maybe different instincts, but it’s still him.” Bobby trailed off, looking up in thought. Never let it be said, that the man didn’t actually love to teach and learn. 

 

Danny came back into the room, and bodily shoved his way into the middle of the pile Noah had just sent Malia to, all sprawled on a rug on the floor, and proceeded to raise his hand. “Coach. I have a question.”

 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “I can see that, by the hand. Yes?”

 

“I know that you’ve always been around the Stilinski’s. Everyone who was raised in town and went to lacrosse games always saw them with you. I’m wondering why you seem to know about the same types of magic that we’ve all been floundering to find info about for the past year.”

 

Bobby let out a low little sigh, and could see Chris creeping around the kitchen entrance, probably wanting a better view for an unknown but smart human. They all just thought he was a spastic and loud teacher… and he really was. 

 

“Stiles wasn’t supposed to have a single magical ability in his body. If he’d grown up completely natural and not run into wolf after wolf after Druid and monster, he’d just be a normal teen. Probably. His mothers family never had more than a generation in a row with magic that presented. He was just supposed to be a normal kid. So when Clau died, she made sure all her journals about the supernatural and bestiaries went to me instead of her husband and son.”

 

Bobby did a one-eighty and walked out of the room, and Noah knew he needed to keep an eye on him for the next few days, or Bobby would be back in a bottle. Bobby had never coped as well with Claudia’s loss as they had. Noah had eventually come out of it for Stiles, but Bobby had always thought it was only Claudia holding them all together. He never tried to follow them, and Noah hadn’t pushed well enough. Well, maybe that was a bad way to put it. Bobby had cleaned himself up for himself and his students, but hadn’t gone back to them like Claudia had asked Bobby, which is why he didn’t cope with Claudia’s loss, because remembering her loss reminded him that he didn’t go back to the ones he needed to. 

 

Fuck. Noah needed to keep him from trying to leave them before Noah could reconvince him he belonged here. 

 

There was a noise at the door to his office, and Noah looked back to see an exhausted Derek standing there. “Pup’s no longer answering any questions, but Peter and Melissa think they have what they need for today.”

 

Scott was up and in the other room in what felt like a blink. “Is he okay?”

 

Derek shrugged. “Just cranky at this point. He’s overtired.”

 

Scott nodded, but didn’t argue when someone else came to bring Stiles out and upstairs, letting Peter handle it. Peter, for all their history, had always had the softest spot for Stiles, and Stiles pretended that he wasn’t just as adoring of the wolf, but he really was. It wasn’t a shock that Peter had ended up with Stiles in his arms, and Peter was strong enough that he didn’t even bother correcting the weird pretzel Stiles had made himself into, curled around a stuffed toy and a baby book and glaring at anyone who tried to look at them. 

 

Malia followed them upstairs, and Noah went looking for Bobby, unsurprised when he found him in the back of Stiles’s jeep. He climbed in next to him and shoved into the coach’s space. “Hey. Stiles is being put to bed.”

 

Bobby nodded, turning a softball over in his hands. It was Claudia’s. 

 

“Aren’t you mad? That Clau and I never told you two?”

 

Noah studied the man’s face for a long moment. “We both fucked up after she passed. Did everything she warned us not to, separated, drank too much, didn’t keep Miecio little and innocent like she asked us. You kept something a secret that she told you to, with the purpose of not adding too much on us. You said you noticed wolves around Miecio last year, and I bet you’ve been stressing yourself half to death just trying to figure out how to mention it, huh?”

 

Bobby pressed his fist to his sternum and rubbed a little. “I swear I thought I was going to give myself a heart attack. One of those ‘I’ll do it next week’ situations, but every time I didn’t, I was closer to the breakdown.”

 

Noah curled into the man enough that he could lay his head on Bobby’s shoulder. It took Bobby a minute to relax into it, laying back against the top of Noah’s head. “I bet that’s another reason you didn’t come around. You always avoided whoever you weren’t telling the whole truth to. You could never omit something straight to their face.”

 

Bobby hummed a little. “Sorry. We didn’t keep him innocent enough.”

 

“No. But he’s not going to die from a heart attack like you and me are trying to give ourselves. Immortal, huh? That’s going to be fun.”

 

Bobby snorted. “Oh god, now we have to convince him he’s not invincible too.”

 

“Unfortunately, I think he’ll have that part figured out pretty fast. Come back inside? I want to kick the majority of the teens out. They can continue their meeting at Scott’s place.”

 

Bobby groaned. “You want to inflict that many teens on her grocery bill instead?”

 

Noah snorted. “Derek can cover that for them. Him and Peter are the pack’s wallets, as far as I can tell. And they like it that way. What odd creatures. Come on, I can give you the rundown of everything you’ve missed this year, and you can move in next week.”

 

Bobby squawked. “Hey, who said-“

 

“Claudia said, in the letters she wrote before her memory loss got out of hand. Come on, you hate that place.”

 

Bobby followed him out of the jeep and they argued about it on the way inside.

Notes:

Anyways. If you can guess who Noah is gonna end up with in the end of this one… props to you.

Idk I feel like there are so fucking many characters in this it’s all over the place.

Stiles needed to answer some of Peter’s questions so they could figure out where he’s sitting cognitively, and Noah and Bobby will get some solid proof of where he’s at in next chapter. He’s just. Iffy. Noah needs his house back for the night tho.

Bobby needs hugs. I’ve been reading so many Bobby fics lately I just think he’s actually the best character in the series sorry.

Notes:

Stiles is a conglomeration of a Spark and a Kitsune (it will be explained later why a Spark can become a Kitsune, but not a werewolf, but it’s like gaining an extra limb, not changing your whole species) and so he’s going through some shit and he’s gonna be magically strong, but like… one sneeze and everyone’s hair turns blue sorta chaotic.

Also I’m making Malia’s dad know about the supernatural because it’s bs and all the parents should know.

Wolfsuggest.tumblr.com

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 63 of A Million Ways To Enter a Big/Little Relationship