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Chapter Text

Stiles' body was blown through a crumbling wall as he threw Kira aside out of the way of the incoming magic. The second wall he hit felt sturdier and stopped his flight through the air with a loud thud. His body shook and stars appeared behind his eyes, blocking his vision.

"Fuck you." Stiles groaned as he staggered to his feet. He closed his eyes while trying to convince his lungs and limbs to work through the pain. The fucking witch had blasted him through a wall!

Stiles blindly reached up to feel the large sliver of wood that was now embedded in his shoulder. He brought his arm to his chest to try and keep it as steady as possible, groaning with the movement.

"Listen, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Release the others so we can go man to bitch, aye?"

He opened his eyes to find he wasn't in the shambling ruins of the Hale house and there were a lot of people staring at him in shock, some in the front were in beta shift.

"What. The. Actual. Fuck."

"Who are you and what do you want?" Stiles knew that voice, and even with the wolfed out features he could recognize that face anywhere.

"Peter?"

"How do you know me?"

Stiles looked around frantically and a small shudder broke through his lips when he saw Erica and Boyd.

"No, no you're dead.” There were several loud growls, but he ignored them, “Am I dead? That bitch better not have killed me."

He reached up and yanked the wood fragment from his shoulder, yelling loudly in pain. He let the bloody piece of wood clang to the floor as it slipped from his fingertips.

"Pain, not dead. Well, unless I'm in Hell. No, they wouldn’t be in Hell. Is Hell even real?"

He then saw Derek's wide eyes and he felt like he was punched in the gut, but he couldn't help his face softening, "No, you were an asshole, but you don't deserve to be in Hell. You wouldn't be here."

He looked around the room and saw Melissa holding a scared looking Scott to her chest and Lydia peeking out from behind them, “And you guys definitely wouldn’t be in Hell.”

"Dreaming?" He quickly brought his hands up, "Five. I have five fingers. Not dreaming. Six if you're dreaming. Five if it's real. Not dreaming."

Stiles was truly panicking now, he started to pace, dripping blood onto the wood floors.

"Okay, I think we need to get you some fresh air." That voice made him freeze and his breath left him in a loud shocked huff.

"Dad?" He turned to stare wide eyed, as the man in question raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Stiles bent over and started hyperventilating. He was dead. "Wake up. Wake up. Scott needs you. Wake. Up. Please. They're not real. They’re not real."

"Darling, what's your name?"

That voice made him release a single sob loudly, "This is not real. Wake up. Wake up." He begged as he backed up and slid down the wall, shaking hands covering his face, not caring about the blood seeping into his clothes, even if he did feel a little light headed, but that might just be the panic attack.

He felt warm hands wrap around his wrists and his eyes shot open. Derek Hale was kneeling in front of him and his pack did not look happy about it.

"Focus on my breathing." He placed Stiles' hand over his heart and Stiles followed him, too shocked to think about it.

"Darling, please tell me your name." The same voice from before spoke out desperately and Stiles looked into the face of an older version of his mother. His eyes welled at the sight of her.

"Mieczysław Stilinski, but everyone calls me Stiles." He spoke almost out of habit, barely above a whisper and he watched his mom's legs give out, Noah caught her bringing her in to hug her tightly to him to prevent her from falling to the floor, even as his own body shook violently. There were several murmurs going around the room, but there was a loud buzzing in Stiles’ brain.

"Wait!" Stiles shouted suddenly, "Deaton! Is he here?"

The man in question walked forward.

Stiles struggled to his feet, favoring his shoulder as he tried to slow the bleeding by pushing some of his magic into it. Derek moved to the side, but surprisingly didn’t move further away from him.

"Oh, thank god! It’s so good to see you my cryptic little magic 8 ball. Jennifer sent me somewhere. I don't know if that is what she intended, she threw me through a wall, but my body reacted differently from the previous spells she cast. I mean the whole wooden splinter through the shoulder is definitely her style, but the magic was off. Fucking witches. All this doesn’t matter, I have to get back! I need to help him! I need to save Scott and the others. She has my pack."

Stiles didn’t care that the man didn’t know what was going on as Stiles word-vomited him, he clung to the hope that some of that made sense to the man.

Stiles watched as Deaton processed this information, gritting his teeth in frustration, Deaton was doing what he always does- not sharing. Stiles could see he had an idea, but the man wasn’t going to say everything he knew or suspected.

Stiles growled, "Don't you dare. You say what you know, and I mean everything, right now!"

Deaton raised his eyebrows, but he began to speak, "I was thinking of how you said her magic was different. I don’t think it was her magic that surrounded you.You are a spark, aren't you?"

Stiles nodded.

Deaton glanced towards Claudia, now standing on her own, before continuing, "Then I believe this Jennifer person meant to kill you."

"That checks." Stiles deadpanned.

"Your spark, however, countered her magic it would seem in a last ditch effort to save you and threw you into another dimension where you didn't exist."

Stiles froze, "I'm sorry, come again?"

"You- you died when you were seven years old." His mom had tears running down her face. Stiles glanced at her, but his heart couldn’t take it. He knew this pack still saw him as a threat so he didn’t dare move closer to her and he didn’t need to get attached to a ghost while trying to find a way back.

"So," Stiles spoke thickly, looking back at Deaton, "the only reason I arrived here is because of the vacancy sign?"

“You’re spark knew it couldn’t send you to a place with another you, because that would destroy the Stiles that was already there. Your spark wants to protect you. Any version of you.”

“What the hell kind of Highlander, there can only be one, bullshit?” Stiles muttered as he rubbed his forehead in aggravation, “Whatever,” he finally flung out, “I don’t care. I need to get back! I need you to send me back right now!”

“I don’t think you understand,” Deaton spoke slowly as sadness filled his eyes, “that was a one way ticket. There was no ritual or spell on your part, so nothing to reverse. Fact is, you should be dead. To maybe recreate what happened would be to use the same exact spell Jennifer used, which I’m guessing you don’t know, and put you in mortal danger. I’m guessing there was a battle going on of sorts?”

“Of sorts.” Stiles muttered darkly.

Deaton nodded, “Not to mention we don’t know if your spark would react the same and if it did, by some one in a billion chance, we don’t know if it would send you back to your original dimension or look for the next, as you said, vacancy sign.”

Stiles yelled out in anguish as he punched the wall, not caring he heard his knuckle pop and growls run around the room again.

“What about the Nemeton? Trying to ask for it’s help?” his mother’s shaky voice had him turning around as a small hope filled him.

He couldn’t look at her, hell he couldn’t look at half the room, instead focusing on checking his hand.

“It would only be temporary.” Deaton shook his head, but Stiles whipped his head to look at the man.

He surged forward and heard several growls, but ignored them once again. To his credit Deaton didn’t even flinch when Stiles gripped his shoulders desperately, “How long?”

“3? 4 hours at the most.”

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief, “That’s all I need. I just need to save my pack.”

“Then we need to go right now while the magical trail will be fresh.”

Stiles gestured for him to lead the way.

“Wait!” an authoritative voice rang out and Stiles turned to see a stern looking Talia Hale staring at them. He had only seen her in pictures, but even if he didn’t know who she was, everything about her screamed Alpha.

Stiles looked at her intently as she studied him, “Look,” he sighed frustratingly, “I know you can hear my heartbeat to know if I’m lying. I don’t mean any harm. I just want to save my family. Once that is done I will answer any questions and follow whatever alpha,“ he spat sarcastically, rolling his eyes when that caused more growls to sound around him, “protocol you want to hammer down. I can even leave your land immediately as soon as I get back, but as of right now I honestly don’t give a rat’s ass about what you have to say. I need to save my pack and if I’m too late because you wanted to waste time posturing, I will personally see that Hell rains down upon you when I get back. Clear?”

He saw a few wolves look like they were about to surge forward at him for threatening their Alpha, but he didn’t move a muscle, still staring Talia down, and to his surprise he saw amusement in her eyes before she nodded for them to proceed.

Once they reached the old tree and the Hale pack stood a few yards behind him, his mouth dropped open.

“Huh,” he twisted his head while looking at it, it seemed to sing happily to him, “So your Nemeton is a full fledged tree then?”

“Yours is a stump?” Deaton asked, but it looked like he already knew the answer. Stiles nodded, still staring at the tree, whose branches were now reaching out to him, but he didn’t know if he wanted to touch them.

“Probably when the Hale pack died.”

Deaton met Stiles' side eye calmly, “You seemed to think a lot of these people are dead. It would have to take something catastrophic to take out the Hale Pack. A traumatic event like that would have acidic effects on the magical world.”

Stiles nodded, “It was and it did.”

His mother walked up to him and drew a sigil on his uninjured shoulder when she pulled his shirt aside, he raised his eyebrows at her as did Deaton.

“If you become too wounded this will alert me and I will pull you back. I am not losing you a second time. I would usually need to cut your hand for blood, but-” she trailed off as she gestured to him.

Stiles didn’t know what to say so he just nodded.

Claudia touched the tree as Deaton reached out to hold her hand as they started to chant.

When a bright light flashed, Deaton sent her an inquiring look, “That was not a lifeline sigal, that was the eye of the beholder.”

Claudia stood straighter as a very lifelike hologram took up the majority of the clearing, “This will confirm his intentions,” she spoke as she looked from Deation to Talia, Talia nodded her head gratefully as the pack huddled around to watch, “and that is my son. I want to see a glimpse of his life.” Her voice broke as her husband came to hold her hand as they took in Stiles appearing in a crumbling Hale house and a horrific scene around him.

“Is that our house?” Laura asked, horrified, she was shushed immediately.

Chapter Text

“Miss me?” Stiles slurred a little as his mind was still reeling.

“Stiles?!” Three voices rang out.

Lydia and Liam were tied up over to one side, but a snap from Jennifer had gags wrapping around their mouths.

Scott was shaking with several cuts on his chest, all of which had deep dark veins spreading out into his body. He was also tied up with what Stiles knew was mistletoe infused rope and had tears already running down his face.

The lifeless body of Kira looked like it had been thrown haphazardly to the side. Stiles breathed deeply and willed himself to calm his rising rage and panic. That wouldn’t help with what he was about to do.

“Oh my god! Will you just die already?” Jennifer groaned in frustration as she sneered at Stiles while she brought the knife to Scott’s throat.

Stiles gripped tightly onto his spark to have it at the ready. If he attacked Jennifer now, either she would kill Scott or Stiles' magic could kill Scott and her. Either way Scott was dead. He would have to stall her.

Stiles flung his hands up in a placating manner, “No, no, no! Listen, please, you don’t have to do this. I just came to talk. Just to talk.”

Jennifer bared her teeth at him in disbelief.

“No, no, I mean it.” Stiles pushed desperately, “I’m on borrowed time, you know this. So I have no reason or the time to be dicking around with you. I’m here to offer you my spot as emissary to the Beacon Hills Pack and its territory.”

The three remaining members of his pack all looked at him like he lost his mind, but thankfully Scott didn’t say anything. Stiles just needed the knife away from Scott's neck.

“You want to restore the Nemeton, right?” He continued, “You want it’s power. Fine! We will allow you that, we'll help you even, but in return we need your help. You can help protect this land, be a part of something bigger. This way my pack lives and you finally have the Nemeton’s power. Everyone wins here. I’ll even lead you to the stump myself.”

Jennifer’s grip on her knife fidgeted as she shook her head, “No, I already killed his bitch. He will never accept me.”

Stiles laughed a little manically, “You have a True Alpha there, Sweetheart. Forgiveness is kinda part of the package. If nothing else he will do what is best for his pack. Which in this case is accepting a new powerful emissary who can harness the Nemeton’s power as my replacement.”

Jennifer looked like she was having second thoughts, but then Stiles saw her eyes hardened.

“No, I will be more powerful with all of you gone!”

Stiles’ shouted “No!” didn’t cover up the gurgle Scott made as the knife slid across his throat.

Jennifer turned to him with a vicious smirk, but Stiles was frozen in shock as Scott fell forward onto the ground. She laughed sadistically at the spark’s obvious distress, “I’m going to rip the still beating heart from your chest.”

Her voice jolted him back to reality, the horrifying reality. The impossible reality. Stiles felt his spark rush forward to slam her against the wall where she hit and fell to the ground, quiet.

“No. No. No!” Stiles slid over to Scott’s form as he gently turned him over and a quick gasp broke through his lips when Scott blinked up at him. The cut wasn’t deep, but the blood loss was still a problem, as the cut seemed to be coated in something that stopped Scott’s werewolf healing. The dark veins spreading down Scott’s neck told Stiles it was over.

Stiles tentatively reached out with his spark to see if he could somehow drain the poison from Scott’s body, but a tight knot formed in Stiles’ stomach as he realized he didn’t recognize it and his spark shrank away from it, sending him apologetic hums below his skin. His jaw clenched as he doubled down, ignoring his spark’s discomfort.

“Hey, hey, hey, you're okay,”Stiles tried to sound confident for his lifelong friend, but he could feel Scott slipping through his fingers. Tears gathered in Stiles’ eyes as he stared in horror at the shock in Scott’s eyes.

The feeling of Scott’s hand coming to grip his arm had him stuttering over his latin and a traitorous sob broke through.

Scott had silent tears falling from his eyes, “Stiles.” The name was nothing more than a small wheeze.

Stiles shook his head violently, “No, you are going to be fine. So shut up.”

“Stiles.” Scott repeated softly, but there was a slight gurgle from the blood trickling down the side of his mouth. Those black veins spread further and deeper out from where Jennifer’s knife met his skin.

“No. Please.” Stiles begged softly as his tears finally fell down his face and he put his hand over Scott's, still gripping him tightly.

“It’s okay.” Scott spoke staring into Stiles’ terrified eyes. “It’s okay.” he repeated.

“I tried to talk to her- I- I tried. I had to get her away from your neck. I should've acted sooner. I-I-I’m so sorry.” Stiles breathed and Scott shook his head slightly, a small smile on his lips.

“You-,” Scott stared intently into Stiles eyes to try and convey everything he was trying to say, “You are good. Remember that.” The short speech seemed to take a lot out of Scott and Stiles scooted closer to him in a desperate attempt to try and anchor him here. Keep Scott with him.

Scott's breaths came shallower and Stiles started to shake as the heavy weight of helplessness and grief fell completely over him.

Another shallow breath and Stiles saw Scott leave. Lydia’s scream was muffled slightly by the gag in her mouth, but it took the energy out of Stiles’ body all the same. Stiles leaned forward to rest his forehead against Scott’s, now still, chest.

He heard Jennifer whimper softly as she started to come to. It made Stiles lean back slightly, listening to her waking up, as he looked down as if from somewhere else at the empty shell of his last remaining family member. Tears were still falling down his blank face, but he ignored them.

He gently closed Scott’s eyes as Stiles’ body became eerily still. Every breath he heard Jennifer take was like a slap to his face.

His eyes snapped to her as boiling hot rage started to fill him. It was flowing over his bone crushing grief like a balm, so he shied away from the painful emotions inside of him and instead allowed the growing fire to spread through his entire body.

Jennifer was holding her ribs and had a gash on her face, she was looking at him in apprehension.

He slowly stood to face her and he let the dark voice in the back of his mind step forward. The last of his family was just taken from him, he wanted this almost as much as an actual chaos demon, not just the aftertaste of one that was tattooed on his soul.

That small voice sinisterly whispered ‘kill, kill.’ in the back of his head demanding blood, he usually pushed away from it, but it was welcomed in this instance.

As soon as he accepted it a blast of dark energy vibrated out of him and hit everyone in the room. His once normal face had deep dark circles and had turned into a hard mask. Jennifer seemed frozen as he twisted his head to the side to take her in with cool disdain.

“You know,” Stiles spoke lightly, “When you killed my dad and we went to the Nematon to perform the surrogate sacrifice ritual, I died and came back. Yeah, I actually died. Ol’ ticker stopped and everything."

His fingers fluttered by his side and the sky outside darkened, his movements now performed with a lethal grace.

"I came back alright, but not alone.”

Jennifer looked outside warily, “What are you?"

Stiles snapped his fingers and a loud crack of thunder sounded around them as a smirk tipped his mouth up slightly, “I’m a spark you idiot. Magic is in my blood, I don’t need spells.”

“You needed one to bring your dad back.” She pointed out.

“Ah,” he said softly, “That’s right I was speaking of the ritual. Where was I? Ah, right. I didn’t come back alone,” Stiles took in Jennifer slowly trying to stand completely upright in a detached interest, “Oh, no. I came back with the Nogitsune inside my head. You know? A Void Kitsune. A chaos fox demon. Mean old sucker. I fought him for months in my mind, Scott and I beat him eventually.” Stiles shrugged, looking down at his fallen Alpha.

“And you know,” He started again, Jennifer was now staring at him in dawning realization as he started to roll up his sleeves, “what they don’t tell you in any of those fancy spell books you hold so dear? That the sacrifice ritual leaves this residue of darkness on your heart. No, you can’t see it on an X-Ray, but the host feels it, keenly. It will eventually go away, unless unforeseen circumstances happen. Like say an ancient asshole takes the opportunity to hitch a ride. Then the darkness spreads, and even as he was ripped from my body, a sliver of that darkness remains. Always there. Whispering my most carnal desires.”

Stiles’ face remained blank and cold as he walked towards his forgotten bat. As his hands slid around the handle his voice came out- calm. Too calm. “You killed my brother.” he slowly turned to face her and she looked terrified of him, good, she should be, “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

Jennifer swallowed thickly as she watched the dark circles around his eyes deepen as his eyes turned murderous, “That man was the only reason I didn’t just outright kill you when you first showed up.”

Jennifer jutted her chin out in a false bravado, “How would daddy dearest feel about that?”

“He’s dead. You're also the reason for that. You sure you want to bring that up?” Stiles’ voice was steady and monotone as he slowly made his way towards her.

Jennifer shifted and looked like she wanted to run, Stiles smiled, “Oh please run, give me something to chase. Make this fun.” his voice purred, but she squared her shoulders as she swung out, he easily dodged it with a roll of his eyes. She began to get more and more frustrated as he made no move to advance on her, but instead seemed to like watching her struggle to land a blow against him.

She managed to knock the bat from his grip, it made a loud metallic clang as it hit the ground, but Stiles didn't lose stride.

Jennifer tried to blast him back and he waved her spell away easily, but she took the opportunity to dash forward to grip his injured shoulder tightly. Her fingers digging into the open wound caused him to cry out and one of his knees to fall out from under him.

“The little human that runs with wolves. What. a. joke.” She sneered down at him as she suddenly thrust a knife into his thigh.

He groaned out and his body shook, stars appearing in his eyes. The darkness whispered for him to breathe in the pain, to let the darkness feed on it. So he listened and the pain made him moan in pleasure.

He pushed up into her hand, still inside his shoulder, standing up to meet her horrified face with his own look of unbridled rage, blackness bleeding into the whites of his eyes.

He rammed her against the large pillar behind her hard enough she released him with a loud yelp. One of his hands gripped her wrist tightly while the other went around her throat.

Stiles brought his face close to hers and inhaled deeply, smelling her fear like a sweet perfume, “I had a demon in my head that made me feel as if he was keeping me prisoner by my foot caught in a bear trap. All the while he made me believe he was torturing my loved ones in front of me, but sure, fingers in an open wound and a little knife would make me submissive to a lower life form like you.”

Stiles knew he should feel pain, but he was too angry and too far into the darkness to be completely present. He could feel his spark sending magic to his wounds, but he had more important things to deal with.

Jennifer smirked shakily at him, “How did it feel watching the man you were in love with follow after me like a lost little puppy? Sure he saw the truth in the end, but he did say some very nasty things when you tried to tell him I was using him.”

“If your only play is to bring up ancient wounds that hold nothing over me anymore, then just accept your death now, or not, draw it out for me. That works too.”

He squeezed harder making her wheeze, “Awe little fox, I think it’s cute you think you have me fooled, but don’t worry. Derek is dead. I killed him before I came back to Beacon Hills.”

Stiles growled as he punched her across her face. She laughed, “Yeah, you seem to be completely over him.” Stiles threw her across the room where she hit a wall with an audible crunch. She crumpled to the floor, breathing hard and shaking.

“He has nothing to do with what I’m going to do to you. HE ABANDONED US!” he shouted, surging towards her to kick out into her face quickly, “No, what I’m going to do to you is merely for my own satisfaction. So scream nice and loud for me.” Stiles kicked out hard into her ribs, causing Jennifer to scream and Stiles breathed it in like a balm. Kick after kick landing down on her body.

She stuttered out a chant for a spell, but with a bored sigh Stiles reached forward with his magic and squeezed her magical core. Her back arched off the ground as her screams bounced off the walls around them. When he finally released it she was shuddering and weak.

Stiles turned slowly to pick his bat up off the ground once more, “Please.” Jennifer’s wheezed plea had him gripping the handle harder as he shook his head in disbelief at her audacity, letting a small bitter laugh fall from his lips. He swung out hitting her across her face causing her to yell out. Blood dripped down her face and her jaw hung a little lower than normal.

“I’m sorry,” he sang softly, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Please. I’ll help you get more power” Jennifer wheezed.

Stiles scoffed, “You used reanimated corpses of innocent victims you sucked dry for power to fight us while you try to hit us from afar like the pathetic coward you are. You always went to the lowest of the lows to try to win. No class. No style.”

“Please, no. I’m- I-please.”

Stiles stomped down hard onto her stomach, “Sorry, one more time.”

“Please don’t kill me.” Tears were running down her face now.

Stiles crouched low over her, “Oh,” he spoke softly, “Oh no, I’m not going to kill you.” Stiles calmly moved her hair off her face and relished in her flinch, “I’m going to annihilate you.” She whimpered and Stiles continued, “I’m going to, what was it you threatened me with? Ah! Yes. I’m going to rip the still beating heart from your chest. A little clique for my tastes, but I have to say the more I think about your screams the more I like this idea.”

“Please.” Jennifer sobbed out and Stiles stared down at her in awe.

“You feel that?” He asked in a far away voice, “That feeling of absolute hopelessness? Begging me for your life, like I begged you for mine. You think I care what happens to me? My life was my brother,” He gripped her chin tightly, causing her to cry out in pain, as he forced her to look at Scott laying across the room, “my father, and my mother. You stripped my life from my chest slowly, as if you were skinning me alive, so whatever I do to you,” He brought her chin back so he could stare into her face, inches apart, “I want you to know that I am being merciful.”

“Derek’s last thoughts were of you, even as he begged for his life. Calling out for you while I tortured him.” She bit out, a pathetic last attempt to distract him.

“If you think a small insignificant speck like you could be the end of Derek Hale, you are more delusional than I thought.” Stiles spoke confidently.

Her screams as he magiced his fist into her body, punching right through her rib cage to firmly grip her heart, had him groaning in pleasure. If the real Stiles’ had control of his brain he would be disgusted by his reaction, but as it were, he didn’t really care. He pushed magic into her to draw out her death long enough so he could complete his objective.

Jennifer stared up at him in shock as blood started to dribble out of her mouth. He gently lifted her head, “Oh I want you to be able to have a front row seat for this.” She whimpered.

She screamed in agony as he slowly lifted the beating organ, still in his grip, up to be seen outside of her body, “Look at that.” he whispered in her ear in awe. She gasped for a few seconds and then her final breath wisped past her lips, and it brought Stiles endless pleasure to know her last moments were spent in white hot agony.

He dropped her head and heart with disgust and he stood up to look down at his hand. Her ribs had sliced his skin open and his forearm was covered in her blood. He reached down in a detached kind of way and pulled a sliver of her rib bone out from where it had been embedded into his skin. Flicking it away into the dusty ruins somewhere, a small clatter as it met the old wood.

He breathed a deep breath as he turned to face his still two tied up pack members. They looked a little sick and Lydia was shaking. He pushed the darkness back a little and it went willingly, stated by a satisfying kill.

Stiles limped his way toward them and reached down casually to pull the knife from his thigh to cut Lydia and Liam free.

Lydia surprised him by throwing her arms around him in a hard hug which he returned in equal favor. Liam was shaking and tears were running down his face, his eyes now flashing Alpha red. Stiles pulled away to drag him into a hug. This caused Liam to cry harder.

Stiles’ eyes looked skyward in a hopeless plea to take away everything Liam was having to deal with. Stiles didn’t realize he was repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over and over until Lydia’s hand landed softly on his shoulder.

“You said you were on borrowed time?” Bless Lydia for her brain, for her ability to think rationally right now.

“Jennifer sent me somewhere that I can’t come back from.” Stiles didn’t mention that it was an alternative universe as he wiped his hands clean as best he could on his shirt. Pushing magic into his wounds.

Liam and Lydia both jerked back and backed away from him.

Liam yelled out, “What are you talking about? Where? You’re right here!”

“I only have a few hours, I was able to come back to try- to try to-” Lydia shook her head before she slapped him hard-twice- then started pacing and yelling as well. Stiles slowly turned his face back from the last slap to watch her. His eyes screaming in pain, but not from the slap.

“No! You can’t go out like this!”

“Lyd-”

“No! We have gone through too much shit for this!”

“Ly-”

“NO! We just witnessed Scott and Kira- you can’t- you- you-” a sob broke through her speech but she continued, now looking directly at him, “We have always found each other. You are not allowed to leave me. I have lost too much! You- you can not leave me! I won’t allow it! You mean too much- you- you-” Her breaths were coming shorter and her eyes were far away with panic.

Stiles surged forward and crashed his lips down on hers as she had to bring him out of a panic attack several times before and she melted into it immediately. Liam looked away and shuffled a little away respectfully to allow them this moment of comfort.

Stiles felt her hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. His hands raked through her hair like he knew she liked. She bit down on his bottom lip, causing a deep rumble in his chest.

Stiles breathed Lydia in and swallowed her small moan. Liam coughed loudly when Lydia started to slide her hands up Stiles’ shirt.

Stiles slowly pulled back and brought Lydia to his chest when she asked, not the least bit embarrassed, she just sounded tired, “How can we go on without you?”

“Easy, you live your lives. Get a pack. Find good partners or get a lot of cats. Raise a family if you want. Remember the good times.”

“Stiles-” Liam started thickly but stopped as Stiles shook his head sadly.

“No, listen to me. You are going to go to Cora in South America. Tell her what happened, see if her pack will take you in or will help you find someone who will. Then track down De- Derek, Cora will know where he is. If nothing else Peter knows where he is. Tell Peter what happened to me. If you tell him I asked for help then he won’t drag you through his mind games. When you talk to him, tell him… tell him I said thank you for allowing me to feel in control again. He’ll know what it means. The point is De-he knows exactly how you're feeling right now and what you’re going through. He will help. If he tries to run, tell him he owes me.”

“Jennifer said he’s dead.” Lydia spoke into his chest.

“I don’t care what that bitch said, she didn’t kill him. I know the bastard is still alive.”

“What about Beacon Hills?” Liam asked softly.

“You don’t owe this town shit, Liam. Get out and find happiness. Scott and I were stupid to take up De-De- his responsibility. I will not see you do the same.”

Liam looked a little uncomfortable, “If I’ve learned one thing from you and Scott is that you don’t run if it means leaving innocent people in danger.”

Stiles swallowed thickly, “Then go to Deaton first, tell him what happened. Tell him if he doesn’t answer plainly and clearly he will have to deal with me haunting his ass.” Lydia gripped a little harder to his shirt, he kissed her temple softly.

Stiles continued, looking into Liam’s wide eyes, “Find a way to shut the Nematon down completely. Cut off the beacon and the supernatural should trickle to a stop, but you can’t be on your own for too long. Maybe see if some of the Hale’s will help you. Two birds, one stone and all that.”

Lydia backed up a little and stood straighter, “He won’t be alone.”

Stiles tried to hold back his tears as he stared at her in pride. Lydia cupped Stiles’ face and looked like she wanted to say something, but closed her mouth.

“Scott and I had a plan for when something like this happened, but you both need to leave and keep a low profile from now on. You need to go.” He stated, barely above a whisper, after a beat of silence and both Lydia and Liam tensed.

“I’m running out of time and I need to handle-” He swallowed thickly as he gestured helplessly to Scott and Kira’s bodies, “And you two need to be far away from here when the cops show up.”

Lydia hugged him again and he softly kissed her good-bye, she turned to walk out while crying silently. At the door she turned around suddenly, “When we find Derek, you want me to pass on any messages? Just from you?”

Stiles swallowed thickly. He didn’t know where to begin or how much he should say. He opened his mouth, but closed it again. Lydia smiled that all too knowing smile as she took in his body language sadly. She nodded in understanding, “Don’t worry, I know what to say when we see him. I’ll tell him.”

Then she was out the door and it was moments like this where Stiles knew why he was infatuated with her for years.

Stiles looked over to Liam to find him staring with terrified eyes. Stiles hugged him tight quickly. Pulling back he held his shoulder’s firmly, “Listen to me,” Stiles spoke with emotion dripping from every word, “You need to focus on taking care of Lydia and doing what you feel is right. I trust you with every fiber of my being.” Liam was shaking, holding back a sob, and Stiles’ throat hurt from how tight it had become, “I am so, so proud of you.”

Stiles hugged him one last time and then gestured toward the door, but Liam paused right before he walked through the doorway like Lydia had done, “Are you in pain?” Liam’s voice was small and at Stiles’ confused look he elaborated, “Wherever she sent you- are you in pain?”

Stiles softly shook his head, Liam relaxed his shoulders a bit. “You were the best of us Stiles, never doubt that.” Liam said softly, not looking at him as he left the old bones of the house.

Stiles listened to the car start and drive away, before getting to work. He cleaned out Kira’s pockets to remove anything that could lead to the supernatural. Taking her phone and small bag of herbs. He closed her eyes and gently squeezed her hand in farewell.

He slowly turned to Scott and cleaned out his pockets as well, finding his phone and motorcycle keys, “I’m sorry, Scotty.”

He stood and flicked the phone open to call 9-1-1.

“9-1-1 what’s your emergency?” the female operator asked in a professional tone.

Stiles put on his best panicked voice, “Me and my friends were out in the preserve- out by the old Hale property and oh my god there’s dead bodies in the house!”

“Did you say there are dead bodies?” she asked.

“Yes, god there’s so much blood!”

“Okay Sir, can you tell me your name?”

He flicked the phone closed only to stomp on it and pick up the memory and sim cards, pocketing it. Picking up his bat and Kira’s katana on his way out he forced himself to not look back.

He quickly made his way to Scott’s motorcycle, sliding on the helmet and Scott’s forgotten motorcycle jacket thrown quickly on to help cover any visible signs of blood.

He sped through the back trail he had found years earlier that led out to a different part of the road than the main driveway. As he was passing the city limits he passed three police cars speeding toward the Hale property.

He parked the motorcycle in front of his and Scott’s house, and quickly made his way into the front hallway. He sat the motorcycle's keys and helmet in their normal space and took a moment to look around his home. He could almost pretend that he had just gotten home from work and his best friend was about to walk through the door.

Then, sighing, he walked over to the TV and kicked it off the cabinet. He went around wrecking the place. Poured his homemade acids over all their laptops and security systems. Manually erasing the security camera footage memory data banks by hand with the custom kill switch, just in case.

He leaned against walls, leaving blood smears, to complete the look of a struggle. Scott and Kira were dead, so Stiles would be too.

He, Scott, and Kira had packed their go bags before they set out to meet Jenifer in case of a quick exit. They went about cleansing the house of supernatural things that would take it beyond a hobby for the police, extra weapons, sentimental keepsakes, some clothes, and some rations.

Stiles slid on Scott’s large backpack and slung both Kira and his duffles across his body. The moves and process were so thought over and practiced that it only took 20 minutes.

He left the front door cracked, so when the police got there it would instantly be obvious that something was wrong and left silently out the back to disappear into the woods.

He hiked to the hidden second car he and Scott stashed on a dirt side road near the back of their property for escape purposes. If the police tracked him through the woods later it would look like the intruder attacked and carried Stiles through the woods to a waiting getaway car. The heavy weight of the bags helped give his foot prints the right impression in the soil for carrying the weight of a body.

He knew he would have already passed out, if not died, if he hadn’t stopped his bleeding back at the Hale house. He didn’t want to really focus on that nagging question floating around his brain of why not just let himself bleed out? Why was he still fighting?

Starting the car he drove to his last destination. He had roughly 45 minutes left if he indeed only had 3 hours here and he was 15 minutes away from where he wanted to go. He parked the car in the woods right off the cemetery property.

Sighing, he refused to focus on the pain and exhaustion radiating through his body as the darkness and adrenaline started to leave his system completely. Usually this plan was a last resort to get out of town, but then again this kind of went with that line of thinking. He was getting out of this Beacon Hills.

Stiles rummaged through his two fallen pack members' bags to get anything useful and added it to his own duffle. His jaw clenched uncomfortably as he found their sentimental items, he threw them in with his own.

Gripping his bag over his shoulder, Stiles looked around the cemetery from the cover of the woods to see if the coast was clear. He breathed a sigh of relief as nothing stirred.

Stiles limped toward his parents' graves and he felt tears well in his eyes once more when he came to stand before their headstones. He fidgeted uneasily, “I’m about to leave this place.” he spoke the obvious as it was easier to start with.

He took a deep breath before continuing, “That means whatever afterlife looks like, I don’t know if I will see you there. I don't know if dimension affects that.” He sniffed loudly and suddenly he couldn’t look at anything other than his shoes, “I’m sorry I won’t be able to come visit you anymore. So, let me get this all out one more time.”

Stiles huffed as his throat tightened slightly with emotion, “I love you both so much, please know that.” Stiles huffed out a breathy sob that he tried to cut short, “Mom, I miss you everyday and I hope I have made you proud, that I am something resembling the man you envisioned me becoming when I was little. Dad-” His voice cracked and he sucked in a hard breath, “God I miss you. I would pay anything to hear you say my name in that exasperated way of yours, ‘Stiles’,” he mimicked his dad's voice letting a small wet chuckle fall from his quivering lips.

“I’m sorry for all the antics you had to put up with from me over the years and I am so sorry you and Melissa didn’t get more- more time to be happy together. You deserved all the happiness in the world and I hope you have found it.” Stiles paused as he turned to walk away, “Oh and eat some curly fries for the both of us, yeah?”

Stiles slowly limped a few rows away to stare at the name Melissa McCall. His legs gave out and he was left on his knees, leaning with one hand on his large duffle, staring with lost eyes. He reached out desperately to place a hand against the cold stone.

“I’m so sorry, mom. I couldn’t save him. I tried- god please know I tried. I even punched this dimension a new asshole.” Stiles chuckled bitterly.

“I want you to know how much you meant to me. You and your son. You were my Mom. I lost my biological mom and you- you decided you wanted to accept this small spaz that your son brought home who didn’t know what boundaries were. Even as that boy faded into a being he didn’t recognize in the mirror, you always thought I was worthy. I killed someone and even while Scott didn’t believe it was out of self defense, you did. You always believed me. Thank you. Thank you for helping me accept my sexuality. Thank you for loving me and my dad. Just- thank you.” Stiles rested his head against the cool stone as his body’s energy finally gave way. “I’m so sorry and I miss you Momma McCall. Can you and Scott keep an eye on Lydia and Liam? I know it should be my job, but- but I failed. I can’t stay and I can’t keep them alive, just like I couldn’t save either of you.”

Stiles turned and slid down to lean back against the headstone, his eyes fighting to stay open, he honestly didn’t know if the bag would travel with him, but he had to try, so he gripped the green canvas even tighter.

Stiles' phone buzzed with a text from Lydia saying she didn’t know if he was still here, but that Liam and her were safe and Deaton agreed to help.

Stiles felt a little of that weight rising off his shoulder as he breathed a sigh of relief. He leaned completely against the cold stone against his back as he looked at the phone in his hand in contemplation. He suddenly opened his recent call list. Hitting that now familiar name and lifted the phone tentatively to his ear. He cursed under his breath when he got the snarky voicemail greeting.

'Hey Peter, you didn't pick up, so I guess you're with Sourwolf huh? Listen, I don't have much time. Scott and Kira are dead. Jennifer… she…She killed 'em. I killed her, but she returned the favor. I used magic to hold onto this world. To come back. But I'm dying."

Stiles' voice rasped, "Peter, I'm so cold and tired. I ca- I can’t- I don't have long. So please can you do me one last favor? Liam and Lydia are all that's left. Liam is going to try and shut down the nematon completely. They need help, Peter. They need a pack. Liam is young and scared with an unexpected alpha spark inside him. He needs to help Liam. Force him. Make sure Deaton helps them. I told them to find cora to find your little pack."

A coughing fit overtook Stiles and he leaned back against the cool stone with a groan when it finally let up. "Peter, listen to me please. You are a good man. You belong with a pack. Don't forget that. Your past mistakes don't define you. You have grown and I'm so proud of you." Stiles groaned as he looked down at the bloody hole in his shoulder, "I-I need you to take care of him. I failed."

Stiles' voice broke, "I failed everyone in my life. I can't- I can't fail the both of you. Take care of each other. I love you… I-I,``Stiles felt his body slump slightly without his approval, "I love you both."

Stiles slid down the headstone until his head hit his bag," I can't keep my eyes open, but I don't want to die alone. I'm- I'm so sorry." He snapped the burner phone shut and let it tumble to the ground.

The only sound filling his ears was his ragged breathing. It drowned out the world around him. A sharp ring filled the air right as he felt that weird magic run down his spine again. The name CreeperWolf flashed across the small screen right before he was blinded by a white light and he heard a frantic flurry of movement around him.

Chapter Text

Stiles blinked his way into consciousness. The room around him was nothing more than blurry blobs dancing in his vision. No sound but his breathing reaching his ears.

For a split second he was blissfully unaware of anything, until a throbbing started in his head. It seemed the rest of the body was waiting on that signal as every inch of it came alive. From his head to his toes felt like he had been run over by a zamboni. As another shiver of pain worked its way down his body he vowed to find the driver and rip them apart.

An involuntary groan of pain left his lips in a desperate plea for his body to take it easy on him. His mouth was bone dry and when he breathed his throat felt raw. How long had he been out?

Stiles groaned again as he recognized the shabby ceiling tiles as his sight cleared. He was at Deaton’s. With how many times he had woken to the same sight he should be more comfortable being here, but the place had bad memories seeping from the walls. Made his skin itch and his legs tense, wanting to run.

He turned his head and felt his heart almost stop beating. Sitting, in what looked to be a very uncomfortable chair, off to his side was a nervous looking Derek Hale. They stared at each other for a long moment.

He looked exactly like Stiles remembered him. Those eyebrows fighting to decide between concern and caution. That jaw clenched with anxiety and lips parted enough that Stiles could see those adorable front teeth. He looked good.

He was only a few feet away from him. If Stiles sat up and leaned a little he could touch him. His fingers twitched with the need to do just that.To reassure himself that Derek was real. It wasn’t just drugs in his system. Derek came for him. Came to help him.

“You came.” Stiles’ voice was hoarse from disuse, but he couldn’t hide his awe, “You’re actually here.”

Derek looked pained at Stiles’ words, but got up to get a glass of water. Stiles took the cool glass slowly watching Derek wryly now.

“I’ll tell your parents and Alpha Hale you are awake.”

Derek’s voice was barely over a whisper, but it still made Stiles freeze with the glass halfway to his lips.

A crushing weight suddenly settled on Stiles' chest as his brain caught up, “Not a nightmare then?” he mumbled, hoping that it was just his mind that was that cruel. Surely his life couldn’t… Scott and Kira couldn’t… but as he took in Derek’s face he knew.

This was not his Derek. This was not his life. This was the life meant for a small child resting now in a coffin six feet under the earth.

Stiles didn’t say anything as Derek quietly left the room, even as flashes of everything came back. His body protested, but his void side took the reins, sensing there would be little fight from him to stop it.

Stiles suddenly picked up the lamp of the table beside him and threw it. It wasn’t enough. He went about wrecking the room, only to yell out his anguish, the sound bouncing off the cement block walls right back to him. Solidifying that he was alone. No one there but the reverberation of his own pain.

He slid down the wall to curl in on himself as he sobbed. Not feeling the slightest bit better now that his outside environment matched the tornado of emotions inside him.

His tears were dry by the time he heard the door open again. He looked up numbly to see that Deaton and Talia had walked in. To their credit they didn’t comment on the state of the room or his blank stare.

“If you would be so kind as to come sit back down on the bed, I believe you reopened your wounds.” Deaton patted the bed encouragingly.

Stiles blinked at him, which only made the vet give a few more pats.

Stiles stood to make his way over to the only piece of furniture he had not turned over and noted faintly that Deaton was right, he was bleeding.

Preoccupied as his brain processed the rather large bloodstain Stiles didn’t see Talia’s worried look before she hid it behind a professional mask.

“Stiles, do you mind if I sit and talk with you?”

Stiles' eyes made it to her face, but he was resistant to possibly encouraging her to think she would get much, so he said nothing.

“I do believe you promised me answers to any of my questions before we went to the Nemeton.”

Stiles nodded a short jerky response, but she smiled at him all the same.

She casually turned to set right the uncomfortable chair, that was on the complete opposite side of the room it had started at, and got settled in by pulling out a notebook and pen.

“I do apologize as some of these questions will not be on the best of topics for you right now, but I need to know if there are violent people that could harm my pack, you understand, right?”

Stiles barely flinched as Deaton’s needle pierced into his skin to fix the damage he’d done, but he gave another short nod.

“How old are you?”

“27.” Stiles’ voice was low, dead, but she heard him and quickly wrote his answer down.

“Occupation?”

“High School Science teacher.”

“Special skills that would make you an asset to my pack?”

“What the fuck kind of Taco Bell job application is this?” Stiles grumbled looking down at Deaton’s hands as they started on his shoulder now. He missed the amused smirk that Talia fought to keep off her face.

“My skills also make me a danger.” he softly pointed out.

“More reason to have you on our side, but I first need to know what they are.”

“Besides my spark and void making it a party, I am proficient in several types of fighting styles. I am pretty decent at my cryptozoology at this point. Can read and write latin. All of that kind of goes with this life though doesn’t it?”

Talia shrugged as she watched him shrewdly, “I need to know more people like this Jennifer person. I need to know who to look out for.”

“You got an extra pencil?”

Talia quickly gave him a pad and pen. Stiles wrote out a list. All the big players back in his world. Handing it back he commented darkly, “The ones that have a star by their names need to be looked into as soon as you can.”

“I have a good relationship with Kali and Deucalion. I don’t think they are a problem, but we’ll have Peter look into it. I don’t recognize these other two names. Kate and Gerard Argent?”

Stiles actually felt shock at this, the first emotion since his breakdown, but his grief wiped it away quickly.

“They’re hunters. Come from an old family of hunters. Chris and his daughter Allison were alright, but Kate and Gerard were fanatical. Kate was responsible for 5 different packs being wiped off the map, on top of-” Stiles’ breath caught before he continued, “on top of yours.”

He saw shock flicker through Talia’s eyes and felt Deaton’s hands still in his work for a second on his shoulder.

“In fact I would look to see if there are any packs that disappeared that coincide with her being in the area. It will give you all the information you need to know.”

Talia hummed thoughtfully and went to stand up, but Stiles caught her wrist, “I don’t think you understand. She is a monster. A true and evil monster. I’ve been at her mercy and I will never be there again. If you hear she is near, you tell me and I’ll help deal with it. Don’t trust her and don’t give her an opening. I know her tricks.”

Talia nodded at him and he let his arm drop, ignoring the pain and Deaton’s exasperated sigh as the movement made him bleed again.

Stiles laid back against the bed without complaint when Deaton softly pushed him back with a whispered command to get some rest.

Stiles didn’t know how long he slept, but when he woke the room had been cleaned of any destruction, but he also noticed they didn’t fill the empty space with more things he could throw.

The days went by and the only face he saw was Deaton’s when he came to check on him. He found he didn’t care. He didn’t answer Deaton’s softly asked inquiries or react when Peter sat down beside his bed one day.

Peter didn’t speak for a long time, but Stiles just waited,Peter could never hold his tongue for long.

“My wife died a few months ago.”

Stiles didn’t move, but shock ran through his foggy mind. This wasn’t where he thought Peter would start.

“She may not have been my mate and she may have just been human, but I loved her with all my life. I had to watch as an illness slowly took her from me, took my daughters' mother from them. You seem to know me, so maybe you can imagine how that helplessness isn’t something I could cope with.”

Stiles felt his eyebrows twitch with acknowledgement. He did know what that kind of loss and hopelessness could do to Peter. At least, Stiles thought numbly, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. The thought didn’t make him feel any better, but more empty for some reason. Peter nodded at Stiles’ reaction.

Peter cleared his throat, “I understand grief in all its twists and turns. I understand that you feel like you can’t even lift an arm, because of the weight of it. I understand the restless prickling it gives you under your skin, begging for you to do something- anything- to fix it. I understand the ease at which a mind grabs onto anger. It’s easier to feel, to function, and to maintain.”

Stiles slowly turned his head to meet Peter’s sad eyes, but saw them turn affectionate when Peter realized he had finally gotten a bigger reaction out of him.

“I offer no platitudes or empty promises, just a simple distraction with simple companionship.”

The silence was thick for a few minutes, but Peter waited, waited for Stiles to accept, to allow him closer.

“What did you have in mind?” Siles’ voice broke, but he couldn’t help his small smile in response to Peter’s beautiful proud grin.

Peter shuffled around Stiles’ bed to bring a tray table in front of him.

“I’m guessing you know how to play chess.”

Stiles just nodded, his heart clenching tightly as he watched Peter settle on the end of his bed, setting up the small wooden board with a peaceful look on his face.

“Thank you.” Stiles spoke barely above a whisper, his voice strained from fighting back tears.

He saw Peter’s hand stall in its movement for only a second before it continued it’s path.

Stiles woke to Peter waiting patiently for him to wake up each morning after that. Peter insisted that he just liked a challenge and was determined to finally beat Stiles at his favorite game. Stiles knew better, but he didn’t do more than smirk with every grumble Peter let out when Stiles bested him.

It wasn’t another week before Peter was handing stiles a new set of clothes and his duffle to go to the Hale house.

When they arrived he was ushered past staring pack members and he found himself moving into Peter’s side a little more.

Talia Hale’s office looked exactly like Stiles thought it would. Oak desk fit for an alpha of the prominent west coast pack, built in bookshelves along the wall- filled with the finest books of course, even a fireplace with an impressive mantelpiece over it.

Peter moved off to the side to allow the other people, that Stiles just realized were following them, into the room. Stiles cursed himself silently, he needed to pay attention.

Nick Hale’s towering frame strutted in first with Stiles’ parents right behind him, they shuffled off to the right, opposite Stiles and Peter. Stiles couldn’t meet his parent’s desperate looks yet.

Talia Hale came in next with her head held high as Laura followed listening intently to every word her alpha uttered. Derek Hale came in almost cautiously. His eyes found Stiles and Stiles froze.

Derek’s gaze turned intense and Stiles felt like crumbling, like running. For the first time in a very long time he felt like prey.

He felt Peter subtly move closer to him as if Peter knew Stiles needed him. A surge of warmth spread through Stiles’ chest.

Derek’s eyebrows came down and his eyes turned a different kind of intense.

Stiles stood straighter and met those green daggers head on. I’m not scared of you, he thought a little manically. A flash of those same words, the back of a police car, and those same intense green eyes caused Stiles’ chest to tighten.

It wasn’t until he heard the click of when the door to the office shut and locked behind Derek did Stiles take stock of his situation. Stiles was outnumbered in a locked room.

His eyes pulsed black. His heart accelerated, every head turned toward him.

“What is this?” Stiles’ voice was deeper than usual.

“You have been accepted into the Hale pack.” Talia announced.

The shock was enough to put a pause on Stiles’ panic, but his eyes still had a ring of dancing black.

“What?”

“Well, your parents fought for you obviously and Derek here said he would be your sponsor and Peter chose to spend all his time with you over actually turning up to the inner circle meetings-”, Derek’s face whipped to his uncle as if this was news to him, “and after what we witnessed from your universe we have no reason to no-”

“What-” Stiles’ voice was hard as he cut across Talia, “do you mean,” Stiles’ voice turned menacing as he took a purposeful step forward, “witnessed from my universe?”

Talia looked confused, “Did-,” she sent a quick look at Peter, “Were you not told?”

“Simply didn’t have time.” Peter shrugged, even as a playful smirk took over his face.

Talia’s shoulders slumped as she sighed, “The runes your mom drew on you that night were a way to watch you. See your true motives.”

Stiles’ eyes went completely black, “You- you watched-,” Stiles felt his rage building, overtaking him, it made speaking difficult, but he tried again, “You watched my family die in front of me and me being seperated from my pack forever, like- like- like what? One of the worst home movies ever made?”

Peter was suddenly taking up his entire field of view, inches from his face, “Mieczysław,” Stiles couldn’t help the safety he felt from Peter’s soft tone. He couldn’t help that his Peter and him talked on the phone almost every night this past year, “I need you to calm down, at least enough for my brother-in-law to not think of you as a threat, he tends to overreact.”

“Peter.” Stiles' voice was barely above a desperate whisper.

“I know.” Peter spoke gently.

Stiles sighed softly in relief, Peter knew, as he always had, how to read him.

“Thank you.” he breathed and easily felt the black drain from his eyes.

Peter kneeled down to grab his duffle for him by their feet, gingerly placing it onto Stiles' shoulder, “One day I really hope you could call this home.”

Stiles swallowed thickly as he watched Peter open the door for him, letting him run away without losing his dignity. Giving him time, knowing he felt cornered at the moment.

“Wait!” Talia’s shocked voice hit his raw nerves like knives as she scrambled after him.

“Where are you going?” her voice hit him again as he made it back to the living room.

He was almost to the door, “Stop right there and talk to me!”, her voice hit him for a third time, breaking his self control over his mouth.

“No offense, your alphaness,” Stiles flailed his hands a little to accentuate his sarcasm, “but what if I don’t want to join your little kennel club?”

The other werewolves around them tensed and some growled at the obvious disrespect.

Talia just raised her eyebrows, “Okay, what do you want to do?”

Stiles opened his mouth to answer but it hit him that he didn’t have any documentation in this dimension. He was legally dead. He had no college credits, hell not even a high school diploma. He inwardly groaned, he had worked so hard to stay alive to graduate high school and now he technically didn’t even step foot into the place. It must have shown on his face, because Talia was now sporting a victorious smirk.

Stiles threw his head back to groan in frustration and rubbed his hands down his face, “Fine,” he bit out, “but you have to understand the world I came from we didn’t have all these pack rules. Alpha means literally nothing to me.”

Talia was still smirking at the lively man, “I couldn’t tell.” she spoke dryly.

Stiles paused in his fidgeting to look at the shorter woman in shock, “So, could you tell your cult followers to calm down with the growling. It’s getting very annoying.”

Talia’s smirk grew into a full fledged amused smile, “So, you are joining? You are going to stay?”

Stiles just sent her a look, “I’m not staying in this house though. I’m going to set up camp in the preserve, if you can find me then you earned the right to talk to me.”

He turned to leave, but Claudia moved into his path with pleading eyes, Noah slowly coming to stand beside her, “Please.” was all the older man said gruffly.

“I won’t be surrounded by ghosts every minute of my life.” Stiles' voice was tense, “but mom will know how to find me.” He sent her a meaningful look and her eyebrows raised in surprise. She was a spark, she would be able to feel his magical signature. His father hesitantly gripped his uninjured shoulder in affection and Claudia nodded in understanding.

Stiles brushed past them and went into the woods opposite from his final destination. He wasn’t going to make it easy for any nosey wolves. He criss-crossed his path, doubling back, and crossing over the creek several times. He masked his scent and stealthily manourvered back to the opposite direction, to where there was a well hidden cave with a sliver of an opening, camouflaged at the bottom of a mossy embankment. It was by a thin part of the river running through the preserve and surrounded by giant boulders and thick trees. Stiles went about setting up protective spells and carving concealment runes into the trees in a 50 yard radius all around his new home.

Stiles made his way inside of the cave he had found years ago in his own dimension. He knew this cave well, as it became a known fall back location to Scott and himself. He couldn’t explain why he chose this place, but it seemed like a knee jerk reaction. He couldn’t go home, so he went to the fall back location to wait for his brother. Stiles sighed, his brother wasn’t coming home.

The domed ceiling was several feet taller than Stiles himself. At the entrance was a small underground spring that you would have to go over to gain entrance to the large room beyond. Stiles threw his duffle into the dark, hearing the thud as it hit the hard surface beyond.

A quick jump later and he stumbled into the cave a little ways away from where his bag landed. He opened it only to get a quick inventory. He had two lanterns which he quickly pulled out for later that night.

Stiles knew he needed to go get supplies if this was to be his home. He didn’t want to go crawling to the pack for help, so he accepted what he was about to do, his father would not approve of.

He waited until dark and snuck through the woods to the town. He went around to several stores so it wouldn’t be an obvious robbery. Just scratch your head and wonder who messed up the inventory.

Stiles first went to an outdoor sports store to go through their dumpster. He was hoping for some returned or clearance item he could use. He grimaced when there was nothing. He cloaked himself and picked the lock on the backdoor. He heard the beeps of the alarm, but a couple quick latin phrases later and the alarm instead showed an unarmed message, now quiet.

He glided forward, grabbing a large duffle bag, a survival axe, a cooking pan, and a foldable fishing pole.

He left and went to a general store next. Here he repeated his steps and grabbed a broom, a sleeping bag, some things he would need to dry out meat, and some pan spray.

Next he traveled to the pharmacy and gathered some pain medication, a first aid kit, and some candles.

Stiles didn’t dare do more that night and he made his way back to his camp where he did nothing but lay out his sleeping bag, the weak light from his lantern his only light. He sat listening to the sounds of the forest at night for a while, but eventually slowly stretched out and went to sleep after quickly eating a protein bar.

Light filtering into the cave through a hole in the ceiling had him blinking his eyes open. He laid there for a second as a bone crippling grief creeped over him. He wallowed in it, but even though his throat felt tight he found he no longer had tears, just a scary amount of lethargy.

He knew he couldn’t allow himself to completely fall into its hold and the amount of work ahead of him had him slowly sitting up. If nothing else could be said about him, Stiles adapted. Always has.

So he put himself to work. He went outside and set up a stronger perimeter. Scent and sound blockers, and protective spells were weaved elegantly into the alarm system he had already placed. He set about walking the permitinter to familiarize the patch of land he deems his own now. By the end of the day he was so exhausted he thought about not going into town, but he knew he needed some more materials.

The craft store was his first and only stop this time. Taking some paint, brushes, strong thick twine, a roll of leather cord, and clothes pins. When he got back he slipped into his sleeping bag and passed out.

The morning came too early in his opinion and he once again laid there for too long. Standing slowly, he once again reminded himself that he needed to keep going.

This day he decided to do some herb scavenging. So his day was spent carefully digging herbs out of the ground and then setting up a small drying station with the twine he got the night before. Breaking off some of the plants to start his own personal garden out by his cave’s opening. His afternoon was peaceful as he dug through the earth to find some earthworms for bait.

While hooking his first worm he made a mental note to dig a ditch for insect and worm farming. He needed not to upset the balance around him.

That night it took him a while to fall asleep. Silent tears soaked into the fabric under his head as it finally sunk in that this was real. This was his life now. He was alone, but some part of him wondered if this was for the best. The people around him might have his family’s faces, but they were strangers to him.

He would be the cryptid in the woods. A story told to the new pups of the pack. A cautionary tale to keep them from straying too far.

“Don’t go wandering too far into the preserve, the crazy old spark lives there. He doesn’t like visitors.”

“Don’t go looking for the Spark’s hideaway! He’ll rip your heart from your chest!”

He managed a small smirk at the images of scared teenagers daring each other on slow clear nights, when boredom breeds misadventure, to venture in the woods to look for the old spark.

"The Pack elders say he fell into this world from another, covered in the blood of his enemies."

As Stiles closed his eyes as he morosely thought that if nothing else it’s kind of cool he had his own comic book villain origin story.

Stiles found it easier to rise when the birds started singing outside his sanctuary the next morning. He sat up and looked around at all his possessions he goblined away to his cave strewn about. He needed to at least make this livable.

He swept the floor of the cave, removing the forest floor litter and dirt. He let his mind go blank with the repeated movement. He then used his magic to help moss grow along the ceiling of the cave to help with temperature control and sound proofing.

He went outside to set up a wooden barrier around his small garden; he'd have to steal some seeds soon.

He grabbed a tarp from his duffle and set up a rain catcher, underneath the set up a deep hole that he set up barriers with magic to farm his worms.

On the outside of his cave he went about carving runes around it's opening.

Moving to a wall inside the cave he picked up a rock and started to outline shelves and chanted in latin so that a makeshift three shelf bookshelf was carved into the hard stone by the time he was done. Stiles smiled in pride. That was the first time using that spell.

Stiles then turned to the far back of the cave and repeated the process, only to maneuver the rock so that a long counter now jutted out from the rock.

Looking around, Stiles sighed as he tried to decide what to do next when a shuffle behind him had him twisting sharply in alarm. Knife already opened in his hand, prepared to fight. There stood his parents, his mom smiling at him in pride. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sorry,” his dad said sheepishly, “didn’t mean to startle you.”

“How-” Stiles started, flabbergasted that he didn’t feel them cross his barrier.

“Sorry,” his mother grimaced, “I snuck us through. We watched you work for a while. We just- you’re here.” Her voice broke as she stared at him in wonder.
Stiles grunted as he closed his knife, his dad’s voice brought him back, “Nice place you have here.”

Stiles let a small smirk take over his face, huffing out a chuckle, even as he fidgeted uneasily, “It will be, eventually.”

“Why here?” his dad asked, genuinely curious as he leaned forward to look around the cave, still in the entrance.

“Scott and I knew of this place, back in my world. I took a chance that it was even here. It was to be a meeting place if everything went sideways.”

“And everything went sideways.” his dad nodded sadly.

In an instant he was reminded of how much he missed his own father these last few years.

This man standing here was his father. Same face, same humor, same sharp mind, hell even the same job.

Stiles hadn't fully processed everything and how he wanted to handle it, but this made him pause. This could be a second chance. He didn’t know if he deserved it, but he desperately wanted it all the same.

His parents read what was on Stiles’ face and smiled at him with so much love that he had to look away.

“Would you like help?” Claudia asked to defuse the situation, but smirked and wiggled her fingers to show what she meant.

Stiles huffed a laugh and stepped forward to help his mother over the spring and then his dad.

“I was actually contemplating what to do next.” Stiles spoke as he gestured around the rock room.

Claudia was nodding as she too looked around, “Well you’ll need a bedroom and kitchen won’t you?”

Stiles looked at her shocked, that was way more than what he was planning.

His mother smiled softly at him, “Oh darling, if you want to live as a magical hermit in the woods that’s fine by us, we will support you.” Stiles shook his head laughing softly, causing her to smile brightly at him, “but we will not allow you to live like someone on the run. You deserve better than that.”

His father cleared his throat importantly, “As the Sheriff I can vouch that there is in fact a big difference between a magical hermit and a fugitive.”

Stiles laughed out loud at his father’s dry humor. God, he really had missed it.

“So, let us take care of you for a second?” Claudia pleaded softly, looking so hopeful that Stiles found he would let her do whatever she wanted.

He swallowed thickly and gestured for her to begin.

She smiled brightly and went to take her jacket off, laying it on the stone counter he had just made.

“What do you need me to do, love?” His dad asked as he started to roll up his sleeves, looking at his wife expectantly, waiting to do as she commanded.

“I need river rock, a lot of it. All the pretty ones you can find.”

“Pretty ones?” Noah asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” she said, smirking over at him, “you can handle figuring out which ones are the pretty ones, right?”

“I found you, didn’t I?” He sent her an obnoxious wink before leaving the cave.

Claudia huffed out a fond giggle, even as she rolled her eyes at the retreating figure of her husband.

“Okay.” she clapped her hands together as she looked around.

“What about me? Do you need me to do anything?” he asked softly, he wasn’t used to asking for directions anymore.

“Oh! Of course my little Mischief! I will need you to take your moss down… I have an idea that will strengthen your walls and I don't want to damage your beautiful moss. Don't throw the moss away though! Keep it, so we can reinstall it."

She purposely ignored his pout and went off toward the back of the room. She held her hands against the wall and started chanting with her eyes closed.

Stiles sighed before doing what she asked. When he was done he turned to tell her, only to stare in awe. There were now two other openings. One he could see right into, and it was a large kitchen. Complete with stone oven, chimney, counter tops, and shelves.

The other opening looked like there was a small turn you had to take to make it into the other room.

His mother was nowhere to be found, so he went to the opening he couldn't see into. There he saw her standing in a very large carved out room. She was chanting over a large raised stone rectangle jutting out of the wall to his right. The outline was a couple inches higher than the middle.

She sighed happily, "Your bed frame." She supplied, "My son will not be on anything less than a king sized bed!"

He didn't have the heart to tell her he didn't know how he was going to get a king sized mattress to his cave, so instead he smiled in gratitude and looked around.

There were even more shelves in here jutting out of the rock and the entire ground of this room was covered in soft moss.

"Thank you." He said thickly.

"We aren't done my darling, go check on your father will you?" Claudia threw over her shoulder.

Stiles followed her instructions, honestly happy to have someone else taking charge for once. His mind was a scrambled mess or numbly blank these days. Follow mind numbing instructions? Public school prepared him for that. That he could do.

Anytime his mind strayed he kept fighting the urge to yell at them. Tell them to go away and leave him be, but he knew he didn't really want that. He knew that was nothing but his grief and insecurities. He didn't want to get comfortable only to watch this pack die slowly around him as well.

He wasn’t even mad at his mother tricking him at the Nemeton. He would’ve done the same if she had popped into existence in his world. He really should just be happy they accepted him at all he thought bitterly. If they were watching they saw him break a woman in front of their very eyes and here they were, trying to make his life more comfortable.

He and his father hauled so many river stones into the mouth of the cave they both had blisters, but Claudia's delighted squeal made them forget their aching hands.

"Stand back boys, watch a master at work." Magic flew along the walls and Stiles felt its curious nature and realized the magic was searching for something. Suddenly glowing lights appeared in the stone. Clapping her hands brightly she chanted and river rock started floating to the spots the first spell found. They found they would still need more rock and Stiles said he'd take care of it, nodding at his father's grateful look.

When he came back after each new trip the rocks would be gone, he had figured out pretty quickly what she was doing. She was replacing the weaker points in the cave walls with the river rock.

It was aesthetically pleasing and strengthened the walls of his home all at once. When he came back and found the last pile still where he left it, he jumped the spring to look in awe around the place.

River rock was now seamlessly melded into his walls and she was placing the moss in and around it to replace Stiles' work from earlier. He had to admit it did look a lot better than before.

"My core is getting tired," Claudia called to him when she saw him, "would you call two structural stone pillars? Here and over there?" She pointed and then turned away without waiting for an answer. He did as he was told.

Once that was done his mother moved in to carve runes and glyphs into each of their bases, speaking absentmindedly, “Repel insects, predators, and strangers. Strengthening rune definitely. I believe the calming glyph chant for those sleepless nights is a necessity. A few miscellaneous, run of the mill home protectants and… done.”

Claudia stood back up, looking around in pride and he couldn't help it, he hugged her tightly, causing her to gasp in surprise, "Thank you." He whispered. She hugged him tighter in response.

"We are going to go home now, but we'll be back tomorrow to help you some more." Claudia sniffed to cover her tearful eyes.

"You really don't have to." Stiles fidgeted.

"Try and keep us away!" His father said quickly, bringing him into a hug of his own.

Stiles watched them trudge away from his hideaway and turned to move his sleeping bag onto the stone bed.

He walked his perimeter and checked his security to keep his peace of mind.

A few minutes later he was sitting by the river. Quietly fishing for his dinner. He passed the time by thinking about everything that had happened today. He had hugged his mother and heard his father laugh. He was happy, but a sad twisting still filled his gut.

He turned his thoughts on what he wanted to get from town tonight as he grilled his dinner with his magic. His new oven didn’t have any chopped wood to heat it and the simple task gave him something to try to calm his overactive mind.

A few hours later he was sneaking back into his cave with some personal hygiene products, a couple books, a refillable water bottle, and some pens and notebooks.

Stiles woke and sat staring at his new room smiling. His Mom built this room for him.

He looked around and decided he needed to add a fireplace at the other end of his room. His family was right. He could have his escape in the woods and be comfortable too.

His family.

He smiled shakily, even as the new addition to the room took shape.

He looked over to the far wall and walked briskly to it, pouring his magic into the rock, telling it what he wanted from it.

He thanked it when a large indented rectangle was carved into the walls with notches at the top. It wasn’t the biggest closet in the world, but once he got a wooden pole to fit in the notches and some hangers he could put his clothes away. In the wall beside his new closet he pushed once more with his magic and a thin column of shelves going back into the rock appeared. Now he had a place for his pants and if he got some of those cloth organizer squares, his underwear and socks too.

Stiles went and brushed his teeth with water from the spring and part of last night spoils from his raid. He didn't know when his parents were planning on showing up but he found himself to be excited.

He left his clothes in the duffle for now, but brought his weapons and research from his bag out onto the counter in the front room and laid it out.Then moved his meager magical ingredients from his world out on the new kitchen counter.

He went and grabbed wood from fallen logs. He used the machete from his duffle to help mold the wood into the slabs he needed. Finished up with his magic to polish, protect, and fit the wood to his kitchen counter surfaces. His kitchen now shone with the natural red of the wood.

He took a deep breath in and paused. It was going to rain, Hard. He needed to stock pile some dry firewood if he wanted to have it on hand for the next while.

He grabbed his axe and went out to scout around. He made several trips and was sweating through his shirt when he finally felt the first drop. He immediately started for home again, spurred to move even faster as he felt the tug as someone passed his perimeter. It took longer to get back as he had gone further away from his camp than he usually would to avoid it being a clue as to where he was.

When he came back through the cave entrance it was to see his father holding his gun, inspecting it shrewdly, and his mother flipping through his research looking fascinated.

Stiles cleared his throat and they jumped, looking a little guilty. He smirked and moved to add the wood to his pile by the stove in the other room.

"This gun-" his dad trailed off as he stared down at it.

"It was yours." Stiles supplied easily as he leaned against the kitchen opening. He watched Noah nod in thought.

"Mischief," Claudia called from where she had picked back up looking through his papers, "who helped you with all of this?"

"I did most of it, though Lydia helped with some of it. She was always better at the Latin and other old languages than me."

This had his mother straightening up to smile at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. He shifted uneasily, he didn't like that look. He now understood what his dad must have gone through when he had something up his sleeve.

"Speaking of which," her tone of voice had his dad looking up as well, "Lydia?"

Stiles huffed out a surprised laugh, "Yeah?"

Claudia rolled her eyes at him, "That was some kiss." She smirked prodding.

Stiles tensed a little, of course, he reminded himself, they had seen everything. He had hoped that him being injured for a few days might have pushed it from everyone's minds, especially his parents'. It made him uncomfortable, but he smirked, "That was a good-bye."

"What did a 'Hello' look like?" His dad deadpanned, causing Stiles to laugh loudly, embarrassed.

"Was there anything there?" Claudia asked, smiling warmly.

"Not in the way you might think." Stiles shrugged, "It is true there was... something there, but not at the same time and there never will be in this world. She isn’t my Lydia and I'm 27, she's 15. If nothing else you can rest assured you didn’t raise a pedophile." He moved to gather the papers back into a single stack, sending her a look which she easily ignored.

"What about Derek?"

Stiles froze, breathing a little heavier, “What about him?”

"Was there anything there?" his mother asked a little quieter.

Stiles didn't answer at first, not noticing he was slightly crumpling the papers in his tight grip, but they both were still staring at him expectantly. He shuffled uneasily and cleared his throat.

He spoke softly, not looking at them, "He left, after everything we had been through, he still left." Stiles turned away, "It was a story that spanned years, but he left and didn't look back. So whatever there was or wasn't there, as far as feelings went, it doesn't matter. Hasn’t for a long while."

"I'm sorry." Claudia rested a hand on his shoulder, "let's get started here, yeah?"

Stiles nodded gratefully at the change in conversation and turned to look at her expectantly.

“Well your father and I did some research and I think we can get some plumbing going. With both our spark power and a few bought materials we brought, it shouldn't be too difficult in the long run.”

“Wha- really? Thank you, but you really didn’t need to spend your money like that.”

“Trust me, son, don’t even try to argue with your mother on this.” Noah chuckled, sending a conspiratory wink towards his son.

His mother turned, smirking, towards where his bedroom was causing Stiles to finally notice the pallet of materials. It twisted his gut how distracted he was lately, it was going to get him killed.

The next five hours consisted of him and his mother taking turns shaping a bathroom in the far side of his bedroom. His parents didn’t comment on the obviously shadily procured items in his cave, for which he was grateful.

They all sat on his floor looking at his small sink, toilet, and shower with pride. It wasn’t anything special, but his new septic tank had herbs and runes to keep it clean and odor free. His shower had a rain barrel system reservoir so he wouldn’t need to upset the balance around him anymore than he had.

“I can’t believe you were able to get me an actual toilet out here for me.”

“It’s nothing special.” his dad sounded a little guilty, which Stiles didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?” Stiles was shocked, “This is amazing!”

His parents smiled widely, before his mother patted his knee happily before she stood up, “Oh, but we aren’t even finished baby.”

Stiles followed his mother back out into the main room.

“I’m going to get some electricity going in here that you won’t have to waste energy on,” at Stiles’ shocked look Claudia winked at him, “I’m fabulous, I know.” Stiles laughed again, causing her to smile brightly at him, “Your father had some ideas as well.”

Noah stood straighter as he stated he wanted to clear out the area in front of the cave and set it up to make it look more like it was in front of someone’s home. The idea was so unexpected and sweet and his dad looked so proud that Stiles smiled brightly and thanked him. Noah nodded and left to get started, pulling on gloves, not caring about the rain.

“Thank you,” Claudia whispered, bumping into his shoulder, “He was up all night pacing about what he could do and that is what he landed on. I know you probably want your cave to blend in more, but he is so happy to do something for you.”

Stiles shook his head, “I should be the one thanking you, you both have done so much for me already and I was thinking about it last night. I think you’re right. I have concealment and protective charms. I can have my space and amenities as well.”

Claudia beamed at him, even as her eyes got teary, “I lost my son when he was seven years old. Your father and I grieved for that little boy and we know you aren’t him, but you are our son. Our baby. No matter what condition you showed up in or how old you are, you will always be our baby. And I’m glad you have let us into your home. Now stand back, because I'm basically about to give you the same amount of electricity as a small city. This will power any electronics or spells you need. All you will need is to connect any wires into one of the veins.”

Stiles’ eyes were misty when he looked away, his feet shuffling, “Thank you.” He didn't know if he was thanking her for her help, her words, or her unconditional love, but he hoped she understood.

Claudia didn’t comment on his tears, which he was thankful about, “Go about making a nice walkway over that spring so I don’t have to keep jumping over the damn thing.”

Stiles laughed, but did as he was told.

Bending down he magiced the stone at the bottom of the spring to rise up into several pillars that poked out a few inches above the water. He then grabbed some wood from this morning and molded into sturdy planks that he melded to the stone supports. When he was done there was a plain wooden porch covering all of the spring from directly in front of the cave entrance and then along its length until it disappeared back underground.

He would handle getting freshwater from the spring into a plumbing system later. His list of things he is going to have to steal seems to continually grow and he wondered how he was going to drag everything back.

Sweat was pouring down Stiles' face, but he added water repellant runes to his porch to prevent it from getting slippery and protect the wood from rot. Strengthening runes to prevent natural decay and then he added an intricate circling spell of reveal. He never witnessed it work before, but in theory it is meant to reverse deceitful magic. Concealment, disguises, and the like all would evaporate as soon as the person walked over the circle.

Stiles was breathing heavily so he sat against the cave wall to watch his mom with a giant bowl of glowing goo being mixed together. She smiled at his awed expression.

Taking some into her hand she brought it forward to be manipulated into the rock on one of the columns. Stiles watched as a faint amber light spread out like lighting. Spreading around the entire room. They glowed and then calmed as her chanting came to a stop.

“Holy shit!” Stiles spoke, mouth hanging open. Claudia giggled.

“Did it work?” Noah asked, looking around expectantly.

“Jesus dad! I didn’t know the rain was that hard! You didn’t need to work in the rain! You’re soaked! You're going to get sick and then what will Beacon Hills do? Roll over and die is what.” Stiles lectured as he went about using his magic to dry his father, not noticing Noah's shocked face or Claudia’s soft amused smile as he ranted and circled his father.

Claudia could see it, this was their relationship. This was her son taking care of her husband, exactly how he would've his father in the other dimension. It gave her hope.

“The goo harded like I expected and reacted like I hoped.” Claudia answered her husband who had now moved on to acceptance as Stiles still tutted around him.

“Babe, we have the pack meeting in 30 minutes.”

Claudia nodded slowly as she looked at Stiles with uncertainty, “Talia wants to talk to you, she wants to ask you about training the younger members of the pack.”

Stiles froze, “Train them?”

“In combat and weapons.” Noah provided.

“Why me?” Stiles asked cautiously, “She saw me rip a witch's heart out and went yes, I need that around my kids?”

“Not exactly.” Noah winced at the reminder of his son’s violent act.

“The younger members do train, but they don’t take it seriously.”

“Why?” Stiles was genuinely confused.

“Baby,” Claudia spoke softly, “when the kids saw you fight when you went back, that was by far the most serious and violent thing they’ve ever seen. The thought of something taking out everyone but them is something outrageous and not possible in their minds. These kids have a full pack around them, have always had a full pack around them, so they’ve been coddled a little.”

“So,” Stiles said as chills ran down his spine, “you will be handing the pack to people who have no idea what they’re up against, or how to fight, or would know what to do if something happened to the pack.”

“Yes.” Noah’s voice was hoarse.

“Okay.” Stiles whispered slowly after a few long minutes of tense silence.

“Really?” Claudia asked hopefully.

Stiles couldn’t speak so he just nodded.

She ran and hugged him tightly, “Thank you! This means so much to the pack.”

“No more kids need to die.” Stiles spoke softly, but firmly, turning away from them. He grabbed his knife, sliding it into his boot, and his gun and his shoulder holster, sliding them into place. He then picked up a handful of extra bullets and slid them into his front jean pocket. He slid his pair of brass knuckles into his back pocket before he threw on his red jacket over his Beatles T-shirt. Turning back he caught their shocked faces.

“Sorry,” he shifted uneasily, “I can put everything back, force of habit.”

“No, it’s okay. If they make you feel safe, keep them.” Noah smiled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Okay let’s go, we are going to be cutting it close.” Claudia called as she made her way out of the cave.

Chapter Text

The meeting was boring and all the nervous glances sent Stiles’ way made his skin itch. He was leaning against the wall, he could see both entrances from here and he continued to check them.

Talia and Peter had talked to him when he walked in to check and see if his parents had talked to him, he nodded with guarded eyes.

Peter had spent some time showing him his lesson plans and going over a typical 2 hour practice.

Talia added that she wanted it to be two times a week instead of the one day Peter did and Stiles was okay with that. It would give him something to occupy his mind at least.

He almost snorted as they looked at him expectantly, once again pulled into pack bullshit.

“My methods might not be as kind as you and their parents might like.” He muttered the understatement of the year.

“They need to be ready.” Talia simply said, but her eyes were watching him with a deep emotion he couldn’t name.

Stiles hummed deeply as more people joined them in the living room, “Just make sure the parents stay on their leashes.”

Talia nodded seriously and Stiles moved away as Nick Hale called the meeting to begin.

“The last thing we need to talk about is the training schedule for all our younger members and of course Derek and Laura as our next leadership.”

Stiles saw them all sit up straighter and look around at each other. They had no idea what was about to hit them.

“Instead of Saturdays with Peter, you will now be training every Monday and Wednesday.” There were groans, but were quickly silenced when Talia casually continued, “with Stiles.”

As soon as the words sunk in it was silent. The kids all turned to look at him. He kept his bored and cold mask on and didn’t move from his leaned position.

“He is very skilled and has prior experience in education. He will be a wonderful mentor.” Talia spoke with such finality that not a single kid made a noise. Stiles was surprised to see more curiosity now, verus apprehension.

“Stiles, any words?.” Talia spoke lightly, when none of the kids or their parents moved.

Stiles gripped his mom’s hand in farewell as he started for the door, “See you tomorrow. 4pm. If you aren’t there we start without you. Family and anyone who wants to watch is more than welcome.” With that he walked out the door and into the night.

Waking up groaning, Stiles looked around his home and went about moving things onto shelves for the majority of the day. The night before he went out after he got back from the meeting and stole some storage containers, hangers, and a tool kit. So he was putting them to good use.

He found a thin, but strong log that he cut and set in the notches of his closet. Happy he could now remove his meager amount of clothes from his duffle bag.

He went outside to inspect what his dad had accomplished since he was too distracted yesterday when they left and it was dark when he came back, he found all the undergrowth to be gone. All the moveable logs piled to one side with a tarp over them, no doubt in case he needed to build more. A pile of rocks Was beside the wood, more building materials he guessed.

He smiled thinking about how it was such a dad thing to do, to want his ‘front yard’ to be clean looking, even in a fucking forest.

Eating a protein bar for his lunch he added more ivy on the outside of his cave. Holding out his hand to the shorter vines and speaking encouragingly as they slowly lengthened to meet him. The dense weave of green helped cover the entrance to the cave and acted as a curtain to block his home from the outside world.

Stiles made a list of what he needed to steal next and then took his first shower in his new bathroom. By the time he was dry and dressed it was time to head to the Hale house for training, so he slid his knife in his boot and his knuckles into his back pocket, but he left his gun for this. He swept along his perimeter checking his security before taking off in a soft jog toward the Hale’s.

He silently emerged from the woods, sauntered around the front of the house to the opposite side where the training field was located and heard his new students talking, "I can't believe we have to train two days a week now." Kira grumbled.

He motioned to the uncomfortable spectators to not say anything as he leaned casually at the bottom of the railing of the porch steps.

"What is that freak going to teach us that we don't already know?" Jackson rolled his eyes.

"He ripped someone's heart out while having a knife sticking out of him. Maybe, just maybe, he knows more than you do, Jackson." Scott pointed out.

"Whatever, the guy is a lunatic." Jackson grumbled.

Stiles let them continue on while he stood there off to the side, with his hands shoved in his pockets. He looked on, unimpressed. The continual name calling and childish complaining feeding the uncomfortable tension coming from the gathered parents.

They held their breaths, waiting for shit to hit the fan, but Stiles calmly waited.

"Speaking of the freak, he's late." Laura griped, "really professional."

"He’s been here." Derek spoke up for the first time. Derek had apparently known he was there, but let the others hang themselves. Stiles loved it. He saw Derek’s ears darken as Stiles looked at him intently.

The others looked around and froze when their eyes landed on him. They waited for him to start yelling about their insults, but instead he calmly walked up the three stairs to the porch, laid his jacket down on the railing, and kissed his mother's cheek in greeting.

Turning back to the still frozen teenagers he rolled up his plaid sleeves as he made his way back to the bottom of the stairs again and fixed them with an unimpressed glare.

"Are you," his voice was calm, but lethal and they shrank away from him a little, "or are you not werewolves?"

He paused looking at them, letting them squirm, Derek was trying to hide a smirk. He forced himself to meet the faces of his lost friends head on. They were younger than he would like. Most of them are not even 15 yet and Derek was only 25 and Laura 27 according to Peter.
He didn’t want to scare them, hated himself for what he was about to do, but this would ensure they stayed alive. He would not watch them die again. He could change that. He would change that.

So, with that thought in mind he stayed the course.

"Alpha Hale?" He called lightly, not taking his eyes off his new trainees, "How long was I standing here before anyone noticed me? Well," he sent a glance at Derek, “nope, I’m sorry, all but one of you.”

Talia cleared her throat, "About 3 minutes."

"Peter?" Stiles called and he heard the man in question stand from his seated position, "How many do you think I could've killed or incapcitated before they realized what was going on."

Stiles heard Peter shuffle a little as he thought about it before answering, "Taking in the fact that they were all caught unawares and having seen you fight," there was another pause, "I'd say all but two or three if you were armed with the right tools."

Stiles nodded in agreement, "So look around, all but three of you are dead, because incapacitation means death. Ten down to three."

"Oh come on! That's completely unrealistic! We have all of them!” Laura pointed towards their parents and other spectators, “And if Derek knew something he should’ve said something." she gestured wildly in displeasure.

"They aren't here. They are spectators and an enemy isn't going to always come when you're ready for them. As far as Derek goes, he is not in charge of your awareness. That is on you individually."

"But nothing is going on, there are no present threats, so we have nothing to worry about! We were waiting on you. Why should we need to have eyes in the backs of our heads when we are in a large group like this?" Laura argued some more. Stiles heard Talia let out a frustrated sigh.

Stiles didn't lose stride, he quickly got into Laura’s space, her quiet shocked gasp floating over his cheek, "Just because you are at home doesn't mean you are safe, little girl. Let me remind you, back in my world the entire Hale pack was almost eradicated in a single night. If this is how you handle failure, don’t worry, you can stand over your dead pack members making all the excuses you want." Laura looked like she was about to say something else but Stiles cut across her, "And what I'm curious about with you, future alpha," Stiles spat with venom, " is that if I'm such a freak, such an untrustworthy psycho, then how the hell did I stand here for 3 fucking minutes without you noticing my unfamiliar scent? Huh? I’m a threat in your eyes right? Then why didn’t your wolf scream for you to turn around? Look at where I'm standing! I am standing between you and your loved ones. By the time you turned around how many of them would already be dead? Two? Five? All of them?” Stiles’ voice became soft steel, “Or maybe just your alpha? The red of the Alpha power bleeding into your eyes before you even know what’s going on."

Laura swallowed thickly and she dropped her head when she found she couldn't look into his deep and unsettling eyes.

“To fix that,” Stiles continued, completely different, still quiet, but now it was delivered as calm instruction, “work on communicating with your wolf. You cannot be in charge and control everything all the time. Stop being mean to yourself in your mind and allow your wolf to help guide you. Don’t allow doubts or insecurities to become a handicap. To need your wolf’s help doesn’t mean you're weak, she’s still you.Trust her. Trust yourself. Meditate and talk to her. You're smart and resourceful. This should be an easy fix for you.”

Stiles ignored her shocked expression and moved further onto the field on the side of the house and was pleased when he heard the group start to follow. “Stretch it out!”

They listened, but stayed by the porch, the only one who seemed to be okay with being near him was Derek.

“You’re not going to make any friends if you get close to me it seems.” Stiles softly warned him. He was sure he had spoken softly enough that only Derek could hear, but Talia looked over to them then.

Derek shrugged slightly, “They aren’t my friends, they’re my family. I don’t have to agree with them when they are being assholes.”

Stiles snorted softly and then he got curious, “How long did you know I was there?”

Derek smiled a little in pride, “As soon as you came out of the woods,” he gestured with his chin towards the exact location to prove it, “I was waiting for you to speak, but when you didn’t I realized pretty quickly that we were already in lesson number one.”

Stiles just looked confused, “You kept your back to me. That goes against every instinct a werewolf has.”

“When a threat is present.” Derek pointed out.

“And you don’t think I’m a threat?” Stiles raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Oh, I think you are the most dangerous thing here, but no, I don’t think you’re a threat to my family.”

Stiles hummed in thought and Derek threw him an embarrassed glance, “And for the record,” Derek turned his face away from Stiles, “I don’t think you’re a freak. I think it was wrong for them to talk about you like that and I would have said so, but I didn’t want to interrupt the lesson.”

Stiles scratched the back of his neck, not knowing what to say, instead shouting out, “Okay, form up!”

Fuck his life, Derek couldn’t say shit like that to him. He didn’t know this Derek, didn’t know if things would be the same here, didn’t know if his heart or mental state could afford to find out. He needed to treat this Derek just like any of the other pack. He needed to protect himself.

Stiles sighed heavily, he needed to treat everyone here with a calculated distance. They didn’t fight or bleed for each other in this world. They weren’t his pack. He was already taking a risk with his mom and dad.

Stiles sent a nervous glance at the narrowed eyes of the parents gathered then settled again on the younger members, “I never thought I would say this, but Peter was too kind. I am impressed with his extensive intellectual studies he wove into his lessons, always so calculating and precise,” he sent a wink toward the now puffed up Peter, “so be assured those will continue."

Stiles fell into his teaching voice without realizing it, "You will be learning about herbs and different beasts. With my set of skills we will look at how to identify beasts not only by sight but by the chaos they leave in their wake. How to use this knowledge to play detective and then executioner if need be. I will also be able to teach you different weapon knowledge. This includes, but not limited to, guns, swords, brass knuckles, knives, and explosives. We will also learn battle formations and strategy, tracking, and combat first aid- what can you afford to address in the moment. We are going to focus on how to work as a pack. I know there are disagreements and different personalities, but that doesn’t mean shit when you go on the battlefield. I am also a spark and have remnants of a void demon inside of me, so we will add how to combat magic and unbridled rage to the mix."

Stiles paused and his face turned grave, "The one thing that will cause most problems is that, like I said, Peter was too kind. You never experienced the pain and terror that comes when fighting for your and/or your family’s lives. Your Alpha assures me that neither she nor your parents will interfere on your behalf. Out here it is just us. You need to rely on your abilities and the fellows around you to survive. Out here you will get hurt, there will be pain, and it will not be pleasant to experience. You will see your packmates fall. You will see them in pain. You need to experience this as well.”

Stiles' voice became raspy, “Watching a packmate scream in pain or fall in battle is one of the worst things to experience.” He paused to let that sink in before squaring his shoulders, “This all being said, if you want to leave, if you or your parents are uncomfortable with anything I just said, now is the time to leave. I won't hold it against you, but know I warned you. From this point forward I will not hold anything back.”

Stiles waited, but no one moved so he breathed in deeply, getting ready for the shitshow to begin.

"Today," Stiles started to pace, letting his hands hang loosely at his side, " I want to see where you're at. Peter is a formidable opponent and someone not to underestimate,” the man in question smiled and nodded in appreciation to the praise from the porch, “So I know you will not be at the basics, but we are going to do some simple hand to hand today.”

Stiles paused in his movement to emphasize his point, “I say simple, but I want to see your strengths. I want to see you fight how you would in battle. I want to see your style, how quickly you adapt and size up your partner. So, you will spar one pair at a time so I can watch and know what we need to work on in the future. When I call your name you’re going to come forward into the field and begin immediately. As soon as you run onto this field you are in the battle. The pair before you needs to get off the field as fast as possible, because I do not care if you get punched by the new group. Understood?"

"You don't know who we usually partner with." Kira softly pointed out.

"Nope!" Stiles popped the 'p', " and I really don't want to know. I will call out who I'm pairing up randomly. You will not be paired up with the same person from this moment forward. You need to know each of your pack mates strengths and weaknesses. First up, Derek and Issac!”

He watched as he paced the sidelines, keeping a blank face, “Next! Scott and Laura!”

“Erica and Boyd next.” Stiles commanded as he paced along the sidelines, his eyes taking in everything.

He watched the couple start to fight and he grimaced in disgust. No one was taking this seriously. They weren’t using all their strength, they didn’t seem to be putting any thought into their movements at all. He knew how devious Erica could be, but right now she went through the basic kickboxing stances with no enthusiasm.

He understood it, he really did, they were teenagers and didn't want to be forced to train or listen to some human they didn't know.

They thought they were safe and nothing was going to change that, maybe they never were encouraged to actively try to injure their opponent, so they thought this was the way you fight. The part that killed him though, was the lack of thought. The predictable movements and dancing around was them wasting time, going through the movements to count down the clock, thinking he wouldn’t notice. This disproportionate pride and the superiority he had heard earlier infuriated him even more now and he had to fight his darkness back.

“Stop!” He thundered and they did without question, looking at him in confusion.

“You want to actually put in an effort this time, any of you?” he sneered at them, causing Erica to answer with her own.

“We were.” she bit out.

“Oh? That was your all huh? You were hitting with all your power?”

Boyd shuffled uneasy as he obviously knew it wasn’t, but Erica crossed her arms defensively.

“Okay,” Stiles shrugged casually as he pulled out his brass knuckles from his back pocket of his jeans and wiggled his fingers into their slots.

“Then two fully engaged werewolves should be able to beat one measly human, right? Easy pickings.”

He heard chuckles behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see the surprise and disbelief of the werewolves he was training and the spectators on the porch. Only five faces weren't laughing at him.

Talia and Peter looked on with calculating eyes, Derek’s jaw clenched tightly, and Stiles’ parents couldn’t conceal their worry- his mother gripping the porch railing so tight her hands were white.

“You have magic.” Boyd pointed out calmly, causing Stiles to focus on them once more.

Stiles shook his head, “Today’s lesson isn’t on how to fight against magic or even to fight my demon side, today’s lesson was about finding your strengths and weaknesses.”

“Was?” Boyd asked, making Stiles smile in pride at him catching on. Boyd looked like he didn’t know if he liked Stiles smiling or not.

“Yeah, was.” Stiles confirmed.

"And now?" Erica demanded, her temper already fired up.

"And now," Stiles answered firmly as he got into her space, "it's a lesson in humility."

Just as he expected she growled deeply before striking out with her claws in blind anger. God, he had missed her.

Stiles easily dodged low to avoid it and brought a hard punch up into her ribs with his knuckles, hearing the sharp crack. She let out a surprised huff and stumbled back.

Stiles straightened as he looked meaningfully at her, "Do not allow anger to take over in a fight. You can be angry, but don’t let it blind your senses. Don’t rush it."

She bared her elongated fangs, but Stiles heard Boyd start to run at him. He waited until the right moment and then spun, only to kick out powerfully against Boyd's back to help his momentum right into Erica. They flailed to the ground with the force of the impact.

"Erica, you need to distract me for him, so he can have a successful attack from behind. Boyd, you're strong, but you need to work on the amount of noise you make. Stealth is just as important as brute strength." Stiles spoke as if he were merely talking in a classroom.

Both werewolves stood and they seemed to actually be thinking about their next move now. Though Stiles saw their bodies tense before they both came running at him. Erica was quicker and so he ran forward and easily clotheslined her, but turned his arm’s trajectory downward at the last second so she slammed against the hard ground, her breath leaving her in an audible gasp. He then used his lowered body to twist and kick out, making Boyd trip onto his face. Stiles gracefully stood back up.

"If you both run at the target make sure to stay at the same pace or it's too easy to counter your attacks." Stiles looked down at them as they got back to their feet.

He backed away as he encouraged, "Don't run in blindly, look at my body, read it, and then try to anticipate my moves and be ready to adapt."

The two wolves stared at him as they tried to catch their breath. He saw them glance at each other to try and figure out a plan.

Stiles smirked, shooting forward he punched Boyd in the face and slid behind the man’s giant back as Erica tried to punch forward to hit him, but as he had already moved her fist met Boyd's face with a sickening crunch. Stiles kept going and turned to punch into Boyd's back, hard into his kidneys which had him falling forward onto the ground in pain.

Erica now looked out right terrified in her panic at having caused her boyfriend pain. She looked like she didn't know if she should continue to attack or check on Boyd. Stiles took advantage and quickly punched across her face then kicked out her knee, dislocating it.

She screamed and fell to the ground. Stiles heard Boyd try to shuffle back up at the distressed sound of his girlfriend, but Stiles turned and punched him quickly, punch after punch landed across his face until he fell back onto the ground, he stared at Stiles in shock.

Stiles slid his knuckles off and back into his blue jeans. He himself was breathing heavily, but he spoke out calmly, "That is why we need to train together. You shouldn't have to try telepathy on the battlefield. Knowing each member's strengths and weaknesses helps you cover them when they make a move.”

Stiles breathed heavily, “And for the love of Freddy Prinze Jr., if a loved one goes down in the field you leave them there until the threat is gone. You can't do anything for an injured pack member if you yourself get injured because you lost your focus. Especially if it was a minor thing like that, distract the opponent to give your packmate time to regroup and then they can help you again. The only time you can pull an injured packmate off the field is if there are other active fighters and only if they have the situation handled or if your opponent lays dead at your feet."

Stiles kneeled down by Erica, ignoring her whimpering, and easily felt along her knee area.

"Breath in." He commanded softly.

She did.

"Breath out." She did, only to cry out as he shoved her knee into place so her werewolf healing could take over. When her breathing became more normal he easily stood up. Both wolves didn't try to get up.

So Stiles spoke to his other students, "In less than 2 minutes a human with nothing more than a pair of brass knuckles took out two werewolves. So, let this be an introductory lesson as to why I have been asked to train you.”

Stiles’ face turned cold and his voice lethal again, “But let me be clear as to why I'm actually here. I am not here to show you up. I know I’m a good fighter. I know the harm I can and have caused. I don’t need to practice on children. I’m definitely not here to put up with a half-assed work ethic. You don't want this? I really don't give a flying fuck. I wish you all the luck in the world when shit hits the fan. I'm not even here because an Alpha asked me to be. Rank means shit if you're dead. I am here because out of this entire pack, that includes every single person gathered here, only three of us were left standing in my Beacon Hills when the dust settled. Actually, nope, I was transported into another fucking life, so make that two remaining members."

He paused to let that sink in, "Look around!" He commanded with venom and he saw the pack shift uncomfortably, but did as he asked.

"All of you were dead or abandoned the pack! Derek, Cora, and Peter were the last of the Hales and they all fucked off somewhere else. Deaton was still there but refused to help or give straight information most of the time! Liam and Lydia are all that’s left back in my world! Only one of them was a werewolf and you don’t even have Liam in the pack in this dimension." His voice was cold as steel. "He is back there right now still fighting, cleaning up a mess that wasn’t his.”

Stiles’ anger fled and he just felt ancient standing in front of young ghosts, “I watched the majority of the people I'm looking at right now die. The others left, leaving me to clean up the mess. Would any of you want that responsibility? That weight?"

The silence was thick and no one seemed to know what to say. He remembered his repeated apologies to Liam before he left and once again he was reminded they weren’t enough. Liam now carried that weight. Liam wasn’t alone, Stiles reminded himself desperately.
His mother stared at him in that way that made his skin crawl, because he didn't know how to handle it. Peter took a small step toward him, even if he was all the way on the porch, Stiles saw it. Derek’s eyebrows were furrowed in clear concern. Maybe, a traitorous voice in Stiles’ mind whispered, maybe you aren’t as alone as you think. He pushed the annoying voice away. He wasn’t ready.

"I'll be out here at the same time next week. If you show up, I expect you to give a shit. I will not have this discussion twice."

Stiles walked over to the porch and picked his red hoodie up before walking off into the woods.

Chapter Text

When Stiles made it back to his home, hours had passed. Instead of going home immediately he decided to take out some of his stress through running.

He heard someone following him for a bit after about 45 minutes into his run, but besides throwing out the suggestion that the person work on their incognito skills, he hadn’t had any excitement besides putting in the effort to lose them.

He was going for more supplies so he picked up the, now empty, duffle bag and walked towards town.

He broke into a bookstore first this time and stuffed a bookbag he stole over by the coffee shop at the front with some comics, a couple of his favorite books to add to the nature books he stole earlier, a deck of cards, and a chess set.

He went to a different outdoor goods store and picked up two more sleeping bags. He grabbed two packets of each type of seed they had in their garden section and a cute little fox statue.

He hit a home goods store last. He picked out a pillow, some frames, and a thick memory foam mattress pad. He had to carry the mattress pad in his arms, but it was an easier solution than trying to drag an actual mattress back. He could pile all his sleeping bags on top and make a type of nest.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he quickly slid into the shadows and masked his scent. He waited, but nothing moved. He cautiously made his way back into the woods, still masking his scent and taking the long way back.

When he walked into his home soft Amber light glowed throughout from the concoction his mom put together earlier in the day. He smiled as it reminded him of the T.A.R.D.I.S.

He added the new sleeping bags and mattress pad to his bed, placing his pillow at the head.

He took a walk around the perimeter as he ate some spaghettios he used magic to heat up, as he didn’t have energy to try and use his new kitchen yet, and didn't sense anything amiss.

When he had changed into some pajamas for the first time he felt apprehensive. He couldn't jump up immediately and be battle ready in his long lounge pants and oversized t-shirt. The feeling in town still had him on edge.

He calmed himself by walking through the overwhelming amount of runes and spells he had in his security system around the place in his head. Not just in his perimeter, but in the rock outside and inside his home. If he couldn't have faith in himself and his daily security check, then there was no hope for him living an actual life.

Puffing out a breath, still a little anxious, he pressed a hand to one of the glowing veins in his wall and pushed what he wanted into it. He smiled in triumph as it listened to him immediately, dimming to allow him to sleep peacefully.

The next morning he woke up and went about putting some of his pictures in the new frames and he felt like dying, looking at his lost friends and the memories they had. He had them in this new dimension, but none of it was the same.

None of it was his.

Maybe, that voice started again, but he stomped it down.

They were whole and he was- he didn’t want to think about what he must look and feel like to them. They could probably smell his bone crushing grief and longing for what this world offered, if the lingering smell of death and decay didn’t overwhelm them.

A person couldn’t be around that much death and destruction without it carving into your soul, his void was proof of that.

He went for a jog and once again heard someone following him after a while. He cloaked and made his way behind a tree, waiting. Derek came jogging into sight, looking around, obviously smelling the air looking for him. He let him pass and then jogged back the other way. This Derek was going to be the death of him, he really shouldn’t be surprised as his Derek almost destroyed him.

Stiles trotted out from the woods into the Hale's front yard to see his mother muttering to herself as she leaned under the hood of- ROSCOE!

Stiles stared at the car in adoration, not noticing his mom’s surprise at seeing him away from his camp or Derek Hale’s sweaty form jogging out of the woods not a minute after he did.

"I take it that you know my old jeep?" She smirked.

Her voice made him jump as she broke him out of his trance.

"I think you mean my jeep." He smirked back at her. She laughed in surprise, "You wanted to drive this old rust bucket?"

He swallowed thickly, not looking at her, "Roscoe was all I had left of you. Dad never wanted to talk about you, he boxed up all the pictures of you, said it hurt too much."

Her face became serious and apologetic, "Your dad didn't take it well?"

Stiles felt weird that 'it' was her death, but he didn't dwell on it, instead answering her truthfully, "No, he did not. He drank a lot there for a while and threw himself into his work."

"What about you?" Her voice was tight.

“It was hard for me too, I was there when you- when you-.” Stiles' voice faded out.

Claudia’s face tightened even further, “No, I mean with your father!”

Stiles looked confused so she elaborated, "You were ten when I died, Stiles, TEN! If your father was drinking and working all the time, where did that leave you?"

"I had school," he shrugged, but at her hard look he deflated a little and answered while not looking up from his shoes, " I learned I was a really good cook. I learned I could understand accounting really well too. I learned that I would do anything to try and keep my dad around. I also had Melissa. She didn't know how bad things had gotten for a while but I lost weight and she grew concerned. She helped me get my dad off the booze without ever judging him. She didn’t comment when she saw that I continued to do the cooking, cleaning, and didn’t rat me out when I hacked into my dad’s accounts to keep up to date on everything. She laughed when I enforced him on a strict diet after she mentioned that all that drinking had probably taken years off his life. He's been sober- well he was sober for years when he died.”

Stiles looked down into the depths of Roscoe’s engine, “I gave him a run for his money though. I mean taking care of a spaztic, sarcastic teenage boy that had severe ADHD by yourself was no simple task and that was before the supernatural added that extra spice."

They laughed a little at that, though his mother still held a sad admiration in her eyes. He couldn’t meet them.

"And they married right?" Stiles was glad there was no heat or jealousy behind her question, she genuinely wanted to know about his family back home.

He nodded smiling, "Scott and I tried for years to get them to see how well they fit each other. They were so different than they are here.” he looked out over the yard in thought, “Scott’s dad is still here and you’re still alive. Back home they didn’t have that support. Don’t get me wrong, they were the best people I’ve ever known, but they carried a lot of weight on their shoulders. Dad had the same humor as he does here, but he never laughed loudly anymore, there was no winking or lightness to his step. Melissa, from what I can tell, is less tired and a little softer than she was in my world. When they finally told us they were going out we lost our minds." Stiles chuckled happily at the memory, "They married not long after, it was a small event, it was perfect.” Stiles’ voice was wistful and his eyes farway, but then Claudia saw his guard go back up and his face hardened before her eyes, “but a little over a year later Jennifer killed them both, she tried to make it look like a car accident."

Claudia looked at him sympathetically, "how long ago was this?"

"They've been gone for two years now."

"Oh!" Claudia let out a small surprised gasp, "that recent?"

Stiles nodded sadly, "I was 24 when they told us they were getting married."

"I'm sorry." And Stiles could tell she meant it.

"They definitely deserved more time." Stiles spoke softly.

They were quiet for a long while, but then Claudia bumped his shoulder softly, "If- Roscoe, did you call him?- belonged to you in the other world then maybe you could help me with him?" Her smile was soft as she wiggled the wrench in front of his face.

Stiles chuckled as he easily took it from her grasp. "I know all the inner workings of my baby."

“Good, because I was trying to get him running again for you to have a car.”

Stiles almost gave himself whiplash as he quickly turned his head to look at her in shock.

Claudia smiled slightly, “This way Noah will feel better about some of your late night activities. He wanted so badly to help carry that mattress pad home for you, but didn't want you to feel like he was over stepping. He just followed you around so he could run interference if need be. He didn’tgo every night, but if he's on patrol he'll roll through. With the jeep he'd know to stick around and you'd have a way to move bigger things." Stiles was frozen and he didn't know what his face looked like, but Claudia suddenly fidgeted and looked unsure, "You don't have- I mean only if you are okay with that. We can find you something else if-” She was cut off by Stiles hugging her fiercely.

Claudia hugged him tightly, “If I had known what this car meant to you, I’d have given him to you sooner" Claudia slid back, "Talia said you can leave him parked here for when you need him and she told me to give you this.”

In Claudia's hand was a very large wad of money, "For the training." She said in explanation.

“Thank you.” Stiles' throat was tight, but he let a playful smirk slide over his face, “Now watch the master at work.”

Claudia threw her head back and laughed, gesturing for him to take center stage.

He easily went about his checklist he had long since memorized to figure out what was causing problems.

“What did you do for a career?” Claudia asked after grease was now smeared on his arms and even across his forehead.

“Well,” Stiles spoke out as he strained with that damn distributor cap, always sticking, “I was second only to Lydia in our high school class and I made it to FBI training, but my pack needed me.” He sighed with relief when the demon piece moved, even if it was only a smidge.

“So I came back and finished my schooling at the local university while working at the library and got my teaching certificate not long after.” Stiles laughed bitterly as he reassembled what he had taken apart, “I was teaching science at good ol’ Beacon Hills High before I got booted from the universe.”

“Science?” Claudia asked proudly.

He smiled as he nodded, not looking away from his work, “Oh yeah, the egg drop I had every semester was the talk of the town. Taught an elective on mythology and cryptozoology. I also headed the creative writing and amatuer detective clubs.”

Claudia laughed delightedly, “Amatuer detective club?”

Stiles' smile grew, “I did go to the FBI academy for a while after all, so I took the next generation under my wing. We went over cold cases, famous serial killers, the science behind DNA testing and things like that, and the second Saturday out of every month we took trips to investigate haunted buildings. A little paranormal investigating. I checked it out before though, obviously I wouldn't lead them to something with an actual supernatural thing living there. No, I knew it was completely safe, which made it hilarious to watch people scare themselves. Kind of refreshing when it isn’t real.”

“Derek works at Beacon Hills High right now.” Claudia smirked as he almost banged his head against the raised hood as she gestured over toward the house. He followed her movement and saw Talia and a shirtless Derek standing on the front porch. There was no way he and his mother weren’t listening.

Stiles growled softly at her which she found to be hilarious as she threw her head back and laughed loudly.

Stiles stood straighter with a devious look in his eye which to her credit she met head on. He swiped a greasy finger down her nose and scurried quickly away from her as she cursed at him in polish. He taunted back in the forgien tongue snarkily, even as he bobbed and weaved away from her around the jeep. It wasn’t until she threatened to involve Derek in this that he stopped dead in his tracks, an indigent squeak escaping as he took in her victorious look. He was so happy that the werewolves on the porch couldn’t speak Polish, at least he didn’t think they could.

Claudia stuck her tongue out in triumph and the grease rag hit him directly in the face.

He was laughing as he easily caught the rag in hand, only to gesture to her with it, “That was below the belt!” He spoke in english this time.

Claudia bent over as more laughter overtook her and his face flamed as he realized what he said, “Shut up!” he mumbled as he slammed the hood down. This caused her to laugh harder.

He rolled his eyes even as he was fighting his own smile as he climbed into the familiar driver seat and turned the key. It sputtered and then roared to life. Claudia froze mid laugh to jump up and down cheering.

Stiles stepped out smiling from ear to ear as his mother hugged him proudly.

“I know, I’m fantastic.” he parroted her words from the other day, smirking.

She playfully smacked his chest.

“Care to go for a drive, ma lady?” He bowed slightly as he opened the passenger side door for her to climb in.

He ran back to the drivers side as he said, “Please tell me you still have-” he excitedly spoke as he opened the middle console and actually yelled in excitement that her old cassettes were there. He quickly pulled out AC/DC Back In Black and popped it in.

Bouncing in his seat as his mother giggled at him. Claudia squealed as he sped out of the driveway, arms in the air as the opening notes filled the air.

Chapter Text

His life had become his lessons. Months passed. He made a point to appear from a different spot of the woods every time and was happy when everyone started to be able to turn in unison to face him as soon as he emerged. They learned how to hold a gun properly, different types of bullets and knives, and even runes or symbols to enhance their weapons.

“I never leave my camp-”

“Which is where again?” Issac snarked, smirking.

Stiles huffed in fond irritation, “Put in the work and you might find out. Anyway, as I was saying I never leave camp without my knife or my knuckles. If I don’t trust the people I’m meeting or feel on edge I also carry my gun.” He motioned to his dad’s gun in his shoulder holster.

“Where did you get your weapons?” Kira asked curiously.

Stiles shuffled uneasily, “My gun was my dad’s, I got it after he passed. My knuckles were left after an… incident, a rather bloody one, by a- well I’m not going to get into her. I took them at first because they were there and any weapon an enemy leaves behind is now yours. I kept them as a reminder that I needed to get out of my own head and step up. I was caught unawares by her, because I- because I- well I vowed never again. I kept them so if I ran into her again I could slide them on and remind her of the night. To remind her that I almost killed her. That I had her fading life in my hands and it was only because of someone stopping me that she had her life. I kept them so I could see her face when she saw them and realized that what was started there that night would soon be finished. I kept them as a message to her and myself. The knife is my most recent addition. I was stipud and vindictive in my actions, but the man that gave me this,” he held out the knife, staring at it in anguish, “showed me more respect than I deserved. He understood me and didn’t judge me. He left this for me the last time I saw him, because he wanted to protect me. To remind me that I wasn't as alone as I felt. He belonged to another pack, with an alpha that-," Stiles swallowed thickly, "Well, he knew he couldn't stay or even see me as much as he'd like, but he wanted me to know I was worth more than what I accepted. I kept this to honor that. That man, he made mistakes- a lot of them. I made just as bad mistakes as he did and when we met each other at that one moment in time, when he gave me this knife, we were more alike than we ever knew.”

The group stared at him in shock, not used to him talking so openly, but he kept a blank face and continued, “I’m not saying every weapon you ever use needs to speak to you on a deeper level, but you need to have an understanding with the ones you use. Not only in how to use them, but why they work for you. Some of my packmates named theirs and showed overwhelming care in the maintenance their weapons needed. Your go to weapon needs to flow with your fighting style, give you confidence, and you need to show it the respect it deserves. A weapon is meant to kill. Killing, taking someone’s life, is something that shouldn’t be taken lightly. Even those that deserve it, the ones that you need to kill, will make a mark on your soul. Your spirit. Now, today I want you to walk around the tables and touch, hold, look around at all the different weapons on the tables. What calls to you? What makes you feel protected? What makes you feel powerful? This is your first introduction to your weapon and while you will learn how to use everything here, you need to start thinking now about your personal arsenal. Begin.”

He ran them through fake scenarios, his words creating new tricky puzzles each time. He would give them a starting point and then let them ask questions. Answering in short little tidbits that will eventually build a flashing arrow to a creature.

“You find a body.”

“No, You can’t smell anything on the body.”

“It’s a young woman.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Inside.”

“Doors still locked on the building.”

He would let their questions and minds try to make the connections, only giving them information if they asked the right question. They were getting better and better. Realizing they needed to ask more and rely on the others to help push them forward towards and answer.

He showed them different magic techniques and fighting styles first, before how to neutralize it and fight a magic wielder.

He also made sure that one day was hard physical labor and the other he tried to push their brains to new heights. Either way they always left exhausted, but smiling in pride.

"Today we are focusing on stamina." Stiles sauntered down the steps as he unzipped his red hoodie, laying it across the railing. He was in tight black athletic sweats and he decided to go without a shirt for the first time around the pack.

Deaton and Talia were the only ones to see him like this when he was still very injured at the beginning, but they didn’t count. Deaton was a doctor and wouldn't go around talking about things like that. Talia seemed to be the kind to have the quiet respect for a person’s privacy that she wouldn’t spread the information either and she had only seen because Deaton had removed his shirt to patch him up after he destroyed the room. He still tried not to fidget while all the eyes took in the scars littering his body.

The long raised claw marks running down his chest to his abdomen. The bite marks into his sides. The gunshot wounds and all the random cuts littering his body. The circular divot from where the wood stabbed through his shoulder only months ago.

He could stand them seeing those, it was his more traumatic ones that made him normally refuse this type of exposure. This would be a test of this pack. So, with a deep breath he continued into the sunlight on the field. Knowing the scars that would cause the most talk behind his back.

The jagged words, ‘MUTT FUCKER’ carved into his abdomen of center, towards his hip, from Kate Argent’s knife. Her cackle still haunted his dreams from time to time as she told him Derek would never want him, as if he didn't already know that. A sick feeling settled in his stomach as he continued to walk forward, eyes focused.

On his back the raised welts from a whip could be seen from Gerard Argent.

The raised brand burned onto his shoulder still clearly read, 'WEAKEST LINK'. His insides squirmed even more as he thought about being chained onto his stomach as Theo gave an impressive speech about werecreature superiority, fanning the flames around the custom made metal brand. Stiles had struggled desperately, but he was held down, left to scream out as the red hot iron met his skin.

Stiles turned to face his students, careful to maintain a neutral face. He saw his mother reach over to grab his father’s hand tightly as they both took in a glimpse at what their son had been through.

Peter laid a hand on Talia’s shoulder while her hands shook. His students looked a little sick and Derek seemed to be staring at the words on his abdomen in furry. A part of him was glad they might have a better idea of why his edges were so sharp now, but he also felt vulnerable and weak with this much information about him literally on display.

He heard the murmurs and when after a few seconds when they didn’t seem to be dissipating he huffed loudly, "Anyone got anything they want to say?"

No one seemed to be able to look directly at him, "Then shut up."

Stiles turned back to the field and snapped his fingers and a large obstacle course appeared.

"How many laps do we need to complete?" Scott asked as he shook his limbs out. Bless him for at least pretending nothing else just happened. His Scott back home had reacted much the same and it made his heart lighter to know that he was helping his brother in a roundabout way. This Scott would not have to live through what they had.

Stiles smirked as he shook his head, allowing the warm feeling to spread through him.

"No number of laps?" Issac raised an eyebrow.

"Nope." Stiles said casually as he was stretching the last little bit of tightness out of his muscles.

"Then what's the goal?" Issac looked confused.

"Just go until you can't go anymore."

When it seemed there were no more questions he looked at them expectantly, "Okay, everyone stretched and ready?"

Stiles waited until he received a nod from everyone before gesturing to line up at the starting line.

Stiles turned to smirk widely at Talia, "Would our lovely and fearless leader sound us off."

Talia rolled her eyes, but she smirked fondly as she cleared her throat. Another pack member to rally in the presence of his past. Stiles true innocent hope.

"On your mark!" Everyone bent lower in anticipation. "Get set! GO!"

All the werewolves shot off, not caring that it might be weird that Stiles set off at a calm and steady pace. He even paused to help Lydia when she tripped, she sent him a shy thankful smile. Another normal interaction he thought happily, this Lydia was as fierce as his had been, but her parents paid attention in the universe. She didn't put on airs, though the attention mainly came from when she achieved a good grade and nothing more. Stiles had already made up his mind to watch for when she might start to feel claustrophobic from it. So far she had handled everything with grace though.

Stiles fought a scowl as he bitterly thought that this universe felt too good to be true sometimes. He felt anger and jealousy towards them all, but then he would always be overcome with shame. They didn't have a say in how everything worked out. They weren't at fault for him crashing into their happy lives. They weren't at fault for how dirty his soul felt every time he looked at them. Survivors' guilt was just the tip of the iceberg on that one.

The wolves lapped him twice, trash talking all the way, but they were already slowing down. He snapped his fingers and the obstacles suddenly changed order. The shocked gasps had him smirking but he continued forward easily.

Lydia dropped out first after 8 laps, he was immensely proud of her and sent her a large impressed smile as he passed that made the look of shame on her face turn into an unsure smile. Kira was right after with only two more laps. Lydia greeted her with proud enthusiasm that made Kira smile shyly. They then turned to cheer on the wolves.

Issac and Cora joined them after several more laps holding their sides, then Jackson, Erica, Boyd and Laura not far behind, Scott collapsed beside the group- flipping off his friends when they snickered.

They all caught their breath as they watched Derek and Stiles still going around. Derek stumbled and everyone thought that was going to be it, but Stiles dropped down from his climbing wall and ran back to Derek to steady him. Stiles nodded in encouragement and Derek continued to run beside him, Stiles having to periodically reach out to steady the werewolf, but at the end of the lap Derek collapsed by his pack as well. Stiles continued to run. His face was flushed and sweat was running down his face and torso. He ran until his hands started to shake. He snapped and the obstacles changed, but he continued forward. Using his void to help stabilize him.

Stiles eventually fell face first after he went to jump over a hurdle, but mid jump the sweat coating his hand caused him to slip against the wood. He gingerly stood up, breathing hard as he put his hands on his hips, throwing his head back, sucking in air. A nice bruise was forming where his ribs hit the wooden beam of the jump, he could already feel it. He turned to look at his trainees and started to slowly walk back to them.

He easily caught the water bottle his dad tossed him from the porch.

“Thanks, pops.”

No one talked as he took several sips, before he let it slip from his fingers to fall to the ground by his foot. He once again let his hand rest low on his hips, breathing heavy.

"Thoughts?" He asked casually.

"You beat our asses." Jackson gripped.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Too surface, trust me everyone here," he gestured to all the spectators, "could tell you that."

Several laughs rang out, but Stiles continued to look at the tired students sitting in front of him, "Think! What else?"

"You set a slower pace at the beginning so you could make your energy last longer." Issac spoke up hesitantly.

"Yes! That’s the type of analytical thinking I want for you guys!" Stiles praised and was happy to see the small movement of Issac sitting a little straighter. Stiles hated that Issac’s dad seemed to be scum in any universe. Luckily Issac seemed to be at the Hales more than he was at home nowadays.

"I was able to not only run longer, but I was able to handle abrupt changes to the course better. Even if I triggered the event, the obstacles were set to move around randomly, so I didn't even know what would appear in front of me. Surprises happen in every battle, no plan will ever go perfectly. Don’t rush and adapt! Next! What else?"

"You stopped and helped me." Lydia smiled up at him, his chest tightened. He knew she had seen him kiss the older Lydia when he went back and he could see how she looked at this older version of himself. This wasn’t his Lydia. This Lydia had no idea what he and the other Lydia went through or the truth about their relationship. This Lydia was a child, one he was determined to keep alive and well. Besides, she still had her mate in her life, right by her. Eventually he would pull his annoying head out of his ass.

He smiled warmly at her, "EXACTLY! You stumbled on the field and I was there to help you back up."

"Oh." Derek closed his eyes in realization and he hung his head. Stiles smiled smugly down at him and Derek smirked when he looked up to see it. Stiles raised his eyebrows as he waited, trying to calm the thrashing in his gut.

"You came back to help me up so I could finish my last lap. No one was left to help you when you fell."

Stiles beamed at him in pride, "That," Stiles pointed at Derek, "is the point! You all took off so fast. Not thinking at all. Scott and Issac were the only ones to think to ask questions, but only knowing a goal isn't enough and going into confrontation you will never know how long it will last. If you rush in, you will fall quickly, leaving your packmates vulnerable and alone. We are stronger together and ASK QUESTIONS. Try to find out as much about your opponent and location as possible."

Stiles let that sit for a second before smiling at them once more, "we're done for the day, go shower, you all smell!"

Chapter Text

Peter’s children adore Stiles, he noticed their curious looks during pack meetings and at first he had ignored them, but he found he was impressed by the twins, Abigail and Elizabeth. They didn’t look at him as if he was something to be feared like the other children, they looked at him as if they wanted to come closer, but seemed to realize he might not be comfortable with that.

He felt their stares even now as he sat on the steps of the porch, looking out over the front yard as people milled around, all ignoring him. It was after another pack meeting and while he usually would already be gone, Taila had asked for him to stay back as she had something she wanted to talk about.

He didn't know why, but he wanted to know the twins. He didn't know if it was because he had loved the Peter in his world or because he knew the pain of losing your mother at a young age as well.

Stiles watched in fascination as Peter spoiled his girls. He never let his sadness show around them and was ever present in their lives, even when he was bone tired from pack work. It made Stiles' heart ache.

He turned his head and found both girls peeking around the side of the house, but when they saw him turn they scurried back, giggling. He smirked at their innocence.

“You can come closer.” he said calmly and he saw their heads appear quickly again, both looking hopeful. He nodded encouragingly.

They shuffled forward and he turned in his seated position to fold his leg under his other one so he was facing them when they stopped in front of him.

“What can I do for you lovely ladies?”

They smiled brightly at him and Elizabeth elbowed Abigail, “Ask him.” she whispered.

Stiles raised his eyebrows as he waited patiently.

Abigail looked uneasy, “Why do you have so many marks on your skin?”

“Ah,” Stiles spoke softly, “that is because I’m not as cool as you guys. I don’t have werewolf healing.”

They both nodded slowly, hanging on his every word, “But where did they come from?” Abigail had her little eyebrows pulled together in concern.

Stiles decided to treat them how he wanted to be treated at nine and told the blunt truth, “Some people tried to take my family from me and I got in the way.”

They nodded looking thoughtful, Stiles understood their confusion at his scars. They were werewolves, they didn’t see scars on any other members as the healing took care of that problem and their human members were usually kept out of the conflict, so no scars there. Plus he had more than the average person would ever dream.

“Can we touch them?” Elizabeth asked eagerly, only to be elbowed hard by her sister, “You can’t ask that Liz, that’s rude!”

Stiles smirked and calmly rolled up his sleeves, holding out his arms in offering.

The girls both sat down eagerly as they each took an arm. Stiles let them twist his arms this way and that without complaint.

“Does it hurt?” Elizabeth asked slowly.

Stiles shook his head, sending her a calming smile, “Not anymore.”

“Why did people try to take your family away?” The innocence behind Abigail’s question had him smiling softly.

“There are bad people in the world. They might have always been like that, or their lives made them like that, but they took their hurt and pain and let it twist them. They only thought of themselves. A lot of the time my family and myself tried to stop people like that, so we ended up getting hurt.”

“We’ll protect you!” Abigail stood up, standing tall and Elizabeth followed suit. Their serious faces had Stiles fighting a smile.

“Oh!” he called brightly, “I can finally sleep well at night, knowing the fiercesem duo Abigail and Elizabeth are on the case!”

They giggled, but grabbed his hands and pulled him to stand and follow after them to the training field. He went willingly.

“Want to see what we learned this week in our training?!” Abigail asked, jumping up and down.

Stiles smiled at her enthusiasm, “Of course!”

They were practically vibrating with energy as they stood in front of him and then there were two small beta form twins in front of him.

“Whoa!” he shouted with wide eyes, “You both can control your shifts?”

They nodded eagerly, Stiles high fived both of them, “That’s insane guys! I’m so proud!”

They giggled and both turned back into their human-like faces, smiling brightly at his praise.

“That’s amazing! I should have you guys in my classes, you both are doing better than your uncle Jackson, that’s for sure.” He leaned in and whispered as if he had just shared a secret and they were hanging on his every word, “But that’s between us, right?”

They giggled madly, but nodded to this new secret they had to protect.

“I knew I could trust you!” They swelled in pride.

“Next step will be to focus on having your claws out without completely shifting.” Stiles smiled.

“Teach us! Teach us!” they both begged.

He smiled and sat down, watching as they eagerly sat on folded legs, looking at him excitedly.

“Okay I will try, but don’t get frustrated if you don’t get it right away. This is really hard stuff that even adult werewolves have trouble with, okay?”

They nodded seriously, but smiled softly as he let his smile grow on his own face.

He took a deep breath, “Okay, you know about anchors right?”

They nodded and Abigail spoke up, “Alpha, beta, omega.”

Stiles nodded, “That repetition can help, but if you find that not working one day don’t panic okay?”

The girls looked confused, but nodded, clearly giving him his full attention.

“An anchor can be an emotion, where you have to feel that emotion to come back, or a person, where you think of that person and what they mean to you for you to come back. One of my friends would even repeat a riddle I told him to distract his mind. So while this works now, don’t feel bad if that changes.”

Abigail nodded, but Elizabeth looked at him shrewdly, “Were you someone’s anchor?”

Stiles froze, but played it off by poking her side, tickling her, “We aren’t here for me.”

“Okay, now you've figured out your full shift, which is a wonderful start. This time I want you to focus on the feeling you get to shift, but only picture it happening to your hand in your mind.”

He watched them close their eyes and then suddenly he had Abigail with only her left hand with claws and her fangs hanging down, and Elizabeth with her fangs hanging down, but nothing on her hands. They looked so disappointed, but Stiles cheered. They looked at him in surprise!

“Look at you two! First try and look at you! No one gets it on their first try, some don’t get it even on their hundredth. So, don’t get discouraged. Things take time and work. Remember that. Okay now, Elizabeth, did you get distracted?”

She nodded, now looking more encouraged, “I was so worried that my face would change.”

Stiles nodded, “See? You were so focused on it not being your face that your wolf mistook your commands. Abigail?”

“I - I was scared.” She looked at him with wide eyes.

Stiles nodded understandingly, “Doing something new is very scary, but this is your wolf. Your wolf isn’t something to be scared of, right?,” They shook their heads and Stiles took their hands gently, “You wolf wants you to succeed just as much as you do. They want to protect you and give you your best life. This is why you will suddenly get a feeling like you need to look around you, or if someone’s scent smells good or bad. This is your wolf talking to you. So don’t be afraid, instead feel happy that you aren’t alone. Try to feel what the wolf wants and let them feel what you want. Eventually this will lead to quickly communicating with your wolf, but remaining in control, because you trust each other. This will be hard to start out with, but you guys are already making wonderful progress. So take a deep breath, think of your anchor to keep you calm and be open to showing your wolf what you want. Your wolf is young and learning too. So remember you are as much a teacher as a student right now. I know you can do this.”

They smiled brightly at his confidence and he let their hands drop as they once again closed their eyes. He saw Abigail start to breathe faster, “Easy,” he whispered softly, “you can do this.”

Suddenly the twins opened their eyes and looked frustrated as nothing seemed different, but Stiles was beaming when he gestured to their hands. They both gasped as they took in their hands. Only their claws were out.

They Squealed and tackled him while he yelled out overdramatically, “Oh no, help! Two of the most powerful werewolves to ever live are attacking me!” They giggled loudly as they hugged him tightly.

Stiles saw feet come into his peripheral vision and all three of them stopped moving to look up. Derek stood with his arms crossed, smirking down at them.

“Uh-oh,” Stiles whispered conspiratorially, “We’ve been caught. Run!” They all scrambled to their feet and ran, the girls squealing. Derek ran after the girls, but apparently they were too fast! Stiles was running, but bent over breathing heavily yelling out, “Go girls! Save yourselves!”

Stiles yelped as he felt himself being thrown over a shoulder, “I got one! Now the other two!” Derek mimicked a deep villain laugh.

A loud throat clearing made everyone stop to turn to look at a smirking Talia Hale.

“This is what collecting Stiles looks like?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry,” Derek mumbled, his ears turning pink, setting Stiles back down onto the ground.

Talia laughed, “Come on girls, your dad is leaving, boys go to my office, I’ll be there in a moment.”

The girls quickly ran to hug Derek quickly then turned and hugged Stiles’ legs before running off, “Bye, Uncle Stiles!” they yelled loudly.

Stiles’s mouth fell open in shock and Derek sent him an amused smirk. Stiles was shook out of it by Derek elbowing him softly, “Come on,” he gestured with his head to the house. Stiles followed dazedly.

When they walked into the office Derek immediately sat down to wait, but Stiles leaned against the fireplace mantle, lost in thought. A tight twisting anguish rolling in his gut. He knew it was rolling off him in waves, but he couldn’t control it or hide it- too blindsided.

Derek kept shooting glances at him and Stiles found he actually wanted to talk to the man, so without looking at him Stiles spoke softly, “Scott and Kira were trying to have a baby.”

Derek froze as if he feared if he moved then Stiles would realize he was talking and stop.

“They were so excited. I, of course, demanded the kid be named after me, boy or girl,” He chuckled softly, “I thought about being called Uncle Stiles for months, but then they- to hear it suddenly just then-” he trailed off and Derek was still frozen.

“Thank you for coming.” Talia walked in, breaking the tension immediately as both men looked at her as she sat down at her desk.

“I have a mission for both of you.” Derek sat straighter in his chair, while Stiles immediately wondered what was happening for him to suddenly be shoved into a mission team.

She pulled out two folders and handed them one each. Stiles stepped forward to quickly flip through the contents. Inside was a name and public record information on a young woman. Stiles looked at her picture and couldn’t deny she was beautiful. Derek looked confused, but Stiles quickly changed to his strategy mindset.

“What is she?”

“A witch,” Talia provided easily, “A witch that the Nematon believes is looking to take its power.”

Stiles nodded slowly, almost every single witch that randomly came into town was there for that reason.

“Has she checked in with us?” Derek asked, not looking up from the folder’s contents.

Talia sighed, “No, she hasn’t.”

Stiles nodded again, “So,” he put two and two together, “she isn’t under the impression she will be here long, that she would need to blend in.”

Talia nodded, “Your mother said the Nematon was insistent she needed to be taken care of and fast. The witch has been seen at Ned’s bar every night and leaves with a different man each night. Some come back, some don’t.”

Stiles started laughing loudly as it finally hit him what he and Derek were there for. Derek’s confused face and Talia’s clearly embarrassed one had him bent over, laughing even harder.

When he calmed down he shook his head, “Seriously?” he asked, amused, and Talia bristled, “If I had any other plan I would use it, but we need to catch her off guard and we need to keep this quiet. You two are the only ones in the right age range. I also want to give her options.”

Stiles was still smirking as Derek looked from his mother to Stiles asked, “What?”

“We’re bait, big guy.” Stiles supplied.

“Oh.” Shock took over Derek's face and his eyebrows furrowed in thought. God, he was adorable in any universe. Stiles had to look away as a deep longing and old familiar feeling suddenly took tight hold of his heart.

Stiles almost physically flinched at the feeling and immediately stamped it out. Talia slid Stiles a fake ID across the desk which he took without a second thought.

“And,” Stiles smirked as he plopped himself into the chair beside Derek’s, “what would you like us to do, besides look scrumptious, I mean.”

Talia huffed in frustration, “We need to see if the men are still alive and if they are then find out where she’s keeping them. We need to know if she's part of a coven or a nomad. Then eliminate the threat quietly and get home alive. Leave no evidence obviously and regroup here afterwards.”

“Okay,” Stiles stood, placing the folder back on the desk, “I’ll see ya at the bar, Derek. Don’t see why I’m coming when you have that jawline, but may the best man win.” He threw a casual wink over at the staring man and walked out of the room.

He went back to his cave and quickly washed his body and hair. He shaved his beard and pulled on a plain black t-shirt that he rolled the sleeve up to right at his shoulders. His combat boots slid over his tight grey jeans. He slid his wallet with his new ID into his back pocket.

Back at the Hale house he jumped into his jeep right as the sun was going down. Smiling he pulled into a parking spot and sauntered into the rundown bar. Derek was already there, but Stiles didn’t show he had seen him. He saw Derek grip his beer a little more tightly, which Stiles took as nerves.

The young man at the bar came up to Stiles and Stiles smirked as he watched the bartender’s pupils dilate as he looked him over. It had been too long since Stiles had flirted with anyone and his mind raced with how he would convince the man to join him in a back room, but he wasn't here for that.

“What can I get you?” and it sounded like he was talking about more than his drink order.

Stiles smiled as he asked, “You got any apple whiskey behind there?”

The man nodded, seeming surprised at the request, but turned to grab a glass, “Neat?”

“On the rocks if you don’t mind.” Stiles leaned forward, getting comfortable.

“You like a little sweetness with your burn, then?” the bartender asked as he plopped two perfectly circular ice cubes into the glass.

Stiles nodded and then added smirking, “Yeah, I definitely like mixing pain and pleasure.”

Stiles had to subtly cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud when the man almost dropped the whiskey bottle he was pouring.

“Here you go,” the flustered man said a little too brightly, putting a napkin down, quickly followed by his glass and a bowl of pretzels.

“If you need anything else, call for me, my name is Gabe.”

“Thanks Gabe.” Stiles sent the man a wink and watched as a bright blush overtook his cheeks as he shuffled off down the bar. Stiles chuckled lowly in amusement as he plopped a pretzel into his mouth.

He knew the second she walked in. He was on his second glass and had already masked his magical signature, but he could tell her magical abilities quickly. She looked to Derek for a long moment, as he was now in the back corner playing pool by himself, but her gaze turned to Stiles a moment later.

“Hi,” her voice washed over him as she slid into the seat beside him. He nodded in greeting, but remained silent.

“Are you drinking by yourself?” she asked.

“Isn’t the reason people go to bars is so they aren’t drinking alone?” he motioned to the other people in the bar lazily.

She giggled and he glanced over at her to see a small smile playing across her lips.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Rough day.” she sighed convincingly, he nodded in understanding.

Gabe came back over and gave her drink, in a much less happy mood than earlier.

“I’m Emma, by the way.” she started again, holding out her hand.

“Stiles,” he shook her hand quickly.

“Stiles?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he let a small smile grace his lips as he shrugged, “not my real name. No one can pronounce my real name, so everyone calls me Stiles.”

“Come on, now you have to tell me your name!” she leaned in giggling.

Stiles got mock serious as he shook his head at her, mischief clearly in his eyes, “Nope! I will not commit ear murder in the middle of this bar! You can’t make me!”

She laughed openly at him, “Oh! Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“It’s polish.” he deadpanned, causing her to throw her head back and laugh, he softly joined in.

“Polish?” she asked delightedly and at his nod she continued, “But you don’t sound polish! Were you born here or in Poland?”

“In the good ol’ USA.” Stiles drawled in a thick southern accent, making her smirk, “My mom’s family is polish and my dad could never say no to my mom.”

“The best trait a man could have.” she said, smirking.

“A trait he passed down.” Stiles winked and watched as her eyes brightened a little.

“So do your parents live here?” she asked, and if Stiles didn’t know she was seeing if he would be missed he wouldn’t have picked up on anything amiss.

He let sadness wash over his features, “Um, no. They died in a car accident not too long ago.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” She laid a hand on his shoulder and he felt her try to push some magic into him. She didn’t try to mask it. If he had been a normal human he wouldn’t have felt anything off, but to him it felt like sandpaper on his skin. His insides twisted with the thought that she was basically trying to magic roofie him and right after he mentioned his dead parents. Rude.

He let out a convincing grunt as if it worked and shuffled in his seat.

He cleared his throat and nodded, “Yeah, I needed to get away for a while, ya know?”

She nodded and he felt her hand slide a little closer to his neck.

“So I packed up my jeep and decided to see what this big country of ours had to offer. No cell phone, no laptop, just me and Roscoe out there.” he gestured with his head to the door.

“Roscoe?” she asked as she looked a little unsure.

“My jeep.” he smiled brightly.

She blinked and then giggled, “You named your jeep Roscoe?”

“Hey!” he spoke in mock offense, “Roscoe is a dignified name befitting only the most elite of machines. He deserves nothing but the best.”

She was laughing openly and her hand had traveled to the middle of his back as she was now leaning right up against him. Another push of magic into him.

“What about you?” she asked, her face inches away from his.

“Oh, I tell myself I’m an elite machine every morning in the mirror.”

This actually made her snort out a laugh as she shook her head, “No! I mean don’t you deserve the best?” her voice had gone soft towards the end.

He smirked seductively at her as he controlled his urge to fidget away from the hand she slid up his thigh, “Are you offering me the best?”

Her breathing was a little short as he subtly added some of his own magic as he pushed some hair out of her face. She wanted to play this game, okay he could play dirty. He was much better at it than she was, she wouldn’t feel the magic seeping into her skin.

He saw her pupils blow wide, “I want to give you everything.”

Stiles stood and she attached herself to him immediately by wrapping an arm around his waist and he placed a hundred dollar bill down, not caring. He just needed to get this over with.

She was running her hands up and down his torso and when they left she pushed them into a side alley, where she jumped into his arms. He answered her kiss easily. Biting her lip as he pushed more magic into her. He needed to distract her so he could perform the real spell he needed.

He pinned her to the brick wall as she wrapped her legs around him without thought. He moved to her neck and she threw her head back and moaned. He drove her to a panting and flushed mess. He could feel a set of eyes on them and knew Derek had his back if shit went south.

He brought his hand to her hair and tugged hard to bring her head back forcefully and quickly chanted out the latin phrase needed and she started answering his questions in fright. When he got everything he needed he reached down and snapped her neck, not even catching her as she fell onto the dirty ground. The men were dead, sacrificed to gain power against the Hale pack for the Nematon. She was alone. Stiles sighed, so much fucking waste.

“Derek,” he called out softly to the night, “you want to help me over here?”

Derek appeared looking disgusted, “It looked like you had it under control.” he sneered.

Stiles looked over at him in confusion, “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you really jealous she chose me over you? Or is it that I completed the mission without your help?”

Derek looked confused for a second, which made Stiles even more confused. Why couldn’t Stiles catch a break with Derek? Any Derek?

“Come on,” Derek said quickly, “we need to get her body out of here and report back in.”

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the cold shoulder he received through the rest of the night. Talia shooting confused glances at her son made Stiles feel a little better. At least he wasn’t making things up in his head.

The next day at training Derek still seemed to still be harboring a chip on his shoulder so Stiles put his planned lesson on the back burner to do more sparing, but it was against him.

One by one his students went up against him, trying to get at least a punch in. When Derek came in front of him, murder brows in full force, Stiles smiled brightly.

“Okay, big bad, just you and me. Show me what you got.” Stiles gruffly taunted the beautiful werewolf in front of him.

Stiles saw those eyes grow intense right before he was pounced upon.

Stiles had to admit that Derek had surprised him. Usually one to watch and wait for an opening, to not run headlong into a fight without thought, this was very much different from this Derek. Stiles almost felt giddy though, this was Derek on edge. This was the Derek he was used to.

He managed to maneuver out of Derek’s grasp, but couldn’t help the small gasp as he felt claws scarp softly across his neck. They landed facing each other a mere foot apart. It seemed that time froze.
What Stiles saw in Derek’s face at that moment gave him a burst of confidence. Derek couldn’t be… jealous? A slow and playful smirk overtook his face, he would have to see.

Suddenly he tackled Derek, but made no finishing move, instead spoke so low that only Derek would hear, “You look awful, like you haven’t slept a wink. I wonder what kept you up all night.”

Derek growled before flinging Stiles from him.

Stiles would not be deterred, he once again pinned Derek, only to whisper softly into his ear this time, “Do you really think that witch could mean anything to me?”

Stiles now found he was mad at Derek, his mood changing so quickly from joy to rage in the matter of a millisecond and he quickly finished the round by dislocating Derek’s arm.

Turning the groaning man over and almost smiled at the surprise on Derek’s face when he saw the anger in Stiles’ glare.

“Breathe.” Stiles softly commanded and then snapped his shoulder back a little too forcefully.

Bending down under the guise of checking over Derek’s shoulder he made direct eye contact with the man under him, so close their breaths mingled between them, “And unless you have something you want to say to me you will stop with this cold shoulder crap.”

Derek didn’t say anything as Stiles jumped up and called the next person.

It wasn’t until Issac stood before Stiles that something else happened.

Isaac's fist connected to his face and Stiles went flying across the field.

His breath felt him in a huff and he struggled to his feet. It was silent and no one seemed to know what to do.

Stiles though ran back over to the terrified looking boy and playfully shoved him smiling from ear to ear. Pride and happiness poured off him, not caring in the slightest that he had a bad black eye forming.

"That is how you fight!"

"What?" Issac squeaked, almost hyperventilating in his panic.

"Do you not know what you just did?"

"I hit you?" Issac seemed waiting for the retaliatory beating, but Stiles gripped his shoulders in overwhelming affection for the young boy.

"Exactly! But more than that you saw a change in my body language and adapted naturally! That was beautiful!"

Issac laughed breathlessly in relief as a spark of what appeared to be pride flashed in his eyes.

“Everyone, thank Issac on your way out, because of him- this lesson ends early in celebration.”

There was laughter and Issac took all the slaps on the back and praise with an unsure smile on his face.

Chapter Text

"Today we are going to play a game. A child's game. Something you all should be able to complete in your sleep." Stiles smirked, "Today we are going to play hide and seek. Lydia and Kira you both get to lay back and enjoy the show. Make bets. What have you. Today it's all about tracking. Not saying you ladies can't track, but we'll go over non werewolf tracking later."

The girls smiled brightly and settled easily onto the porch steps.

"So one of us goes into the woods to hide and the others try to find them?" Erica asks.

"Not today." Stiles smiled brightly at her, "We will get into how to mask scents, stealth, and misdirection later. Today I want to see if ten little wolves can catch one little fox."

"Oh you are so on!" Jackson looked positively thrilled.

"Now, so our lovely audience doesn't feel left out, each of you will get an eye of the beholder drawn onto your skin. I am going to head out into the preserve and will only get a 30 minute head start. In 35 minutes I will draw my own eye of the beholder. If you are still here when my image pops up you will be disqualified."

"Are we meant to hunt as a pack or is this an individual task?" Laura asked.

Stiles smiled proudly at her, "Beautiful question and excellent thinking ahead. For today this is an individual assessment. You will all be given a different starting point in the field to start. To prove I'm not cheating you will draw a number out of the bowl Nick is holding over there," the man in question held up a bowl, "then you will go to your respective number along the wood line and wait. At the sound of the whistle you will head out."

"There has to be more to this. More than following a simple trail. I mean how is that supposed to not be done in a pack?" Scott rolled his eyes.

"Oh, did I not say?" Stiles raised his eyebrows playfully, "I spent all day yesterday setting up traps and false leads. Follow what your wolf and your mind is telling you is the right way. Each of you are starting at different places in the woods and I doubt all of you will think the same way. So don’t focus on your neighbor for this. Talk to your wolf. But don't worry. If you get stuck or lost out there howl and Talia and Nick are on pup retrieving duty," he smirked, but then his face softened, “Listen, focus on trying to figure out the difference between fresh and old scents. Use all of your senses for this. That's all the hints I'm giving you. Good luck!"

Stiles jogged out into the woods. Using his magic to make duplicates of himself to run in different directions for a little while, discarding his T-Shirt down a large culvert, doubling back, masking his scent, and finally climbing the cliff face by a waterfall falling into one of the bigger lakes in the preserve. He could see for miles from up here and his scent would travel everywhere. Further confusing his students.

He had just settled into a seated position up against a large oak when his watch went off. He shut it off after a single beep and drew the eye of the beholder quickly. He smiled as he saw Issac run out of the woods scenting the air but he took the bait of a false trail and ran west. An hour and a half passed and he felt a little smug until he felt eyes land on him.

He twisted around to look into the victorious face of none other than Derek Hale.

"How the actual fuck did you find me?"

Derek’s smile grew.

"Oh no, no, no, I made it so difficult! It should at least take two hours to figure out which trail was the right one! Much less figure out I scaled a cliff!"

"A small cliff, a really unimpressive cliff, the baby of-" Derek was cut off by Stiles frantically pulling him against the tree and covering his mouth with one of his hands.

Boyd came jogging out and went right along the lake shore, but took a look around before turning and running back the direction he came from.

Stiles waited for a while to make sure he was completely gone before turning back to take in Derek's unimpressed raised eyebrow.

"My cliff is not a baby cliff." Stiles whispered Loudly as he removed his hand.

Derek smirked, making Stiles grumble, "You tell me, right now.”

Derek sat and motioned Stiles to join him, “I have to admit you had me with the T-shirt false lead. I went right for that stronger scent, but when I saw it was down in a culvert I knew you hadn’t actually gone that way.”

“And how did you figure that out, doggy breath?”

Derek smirked, “I’m not going to tell you if you decide to be petty.”

Stiles let out a great suffering sigh, “How did you figure that out you amazing creature of lore.”

Derek smiled smugly, “I profiled you.”

“You what?” Stiles blinked.

“You went to FBI training, I would think you would know what profiling is.”

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose, “You know what I mean.”

Derek chuckled, “You wouldn’t give up the high ground. If you were being chased or tracked you wouldn’t allow your enemies that advantage. So I ignored that false lead to find the next strongest source of your smell and after that ran out I followed the path with the most traps. You would want to slow them down to give you more time to flee if this was real. I was able to avoid most of them, but that stinging sap shit needs to go die in a hole.”

Stiles was staring open mouthed at him and then he felt his face melt into a look of such pride he thought he'd burst. He even opened his mouth to cheer, but then Derek was pulling him close with a hand over his mouth as they saw Laura come to a stop and look at the cliff speculatively before shaking her head and running off.

“They really are stupid.” Derek shook his head in disgust and when Stiles sent a confused look he continued, “They don’t think you’d be able to climb this cliff.”

“Told you my cliff wasn’t a baby cliff.”

“It’s not that, I mean they shouldn’t disregard your ability, just because you’re a human.”

Stiles watched him curiously when a thought struck him, “Which way did you come? You didn’t come out to the lake shore like they are and my scent was masked when climbing it.”

“I followed the most traps like I said, but even those started to thin out so I looked for the high ground again. I took the trail up when I remembered that these cliffs were this way. I didn’t want to use too much energy in case I was wrong.” Derek sent him an amused look, “I also wanted to see if I could sneak up on you. Totally worked. You should’ve seen your face.”

“Ha. Ha.” Stiles snarked, causing Derek to chuckle again.

“For real though, Derek, I am incredibly impressed. That strategic thinking is the type of thing I’m trying to force into their skulls.”

“Laura is my sister and I love her, but she has always had my mom there to tell her what to do. Laura isn’t used to not having that guiding hand. So caught up in being the good soldier in front of the pack. Not wanting to appear as if she’s questioning mom or unsure in front of the pack. So she is new territory. I on the other hand have the benefit of being able to watch from the sidelines with little pressure. Allowing me to let my brain wander. Why is that person standing that way? That person looks more tired than usual. That kind of stuff vs Laura who has to remember where to stand, the appropriate way to respond in correspondence to avoid war between packs or memorizing all the different pack treaties. As for the others, they’re young,” Derek laid a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, “ and we all are already showing improvement in the short time you’ve been here. You are making a wonderful difference to our pack.”

Stiles sent him a small grateful smile. Not for the first time a small burst of hope ran through his veins. This Derek is so different from the other one. No Kate. Not haunted when he looks in the mirror. Stiles had a clench in his stomach as he, not for the first time, had to remind himself that there was no guarantee for him. Derek didn't owe him anything and Stiles shouldn't compare the two men. Shame washes over him.

This Derek was good at reading people and his vision was unclouded, not experiencing the grief of his pack's death and his misguided guilt over it.

Stiles needed to calm his feelings or Derek would be clued into the rolling emotions inside of him. He knew that this Derek had heard how he felt about the other one, but he also saw the kiss with Lydia, so it was a good chance Derek didn’t understand how deep his feelings had gone for the other Derek. That thought gave him a little comfort.

A long howl breached the silence and both their heads whipped around to the east.

“Who?” Stiles turned fully to look out.

“Jackson,” Derek said confidently, “but,” he now sounded confused, “he doesn’t sound hurt or lost. He- he sounds embarrassed.”

“Oh my god! Yes! I didn’t know if anyone would fall for it!”

At Derek’s look Stiles smiled deviously, “He fell into the fucking hole.”

“The hole?”

Stiles nodded eagerly, “I put an illusion of me standing in a clearing, it should’ve been so obvious that it was a trap, but if you came close to it- well- you fell-”

“Into a hole!” Derek finished now looking positively delighted.

“It’s so deep that you would have to call for help. I figured if you’re going to be dumb then I will make it be rememberible.”

“Poor Jackson.” Derek shook his head, not sounding the least bit sorry.

Chapter Text

Stiles was shirtless as he chopped some logs he had collected earlier. The sting of his arms from the repetitive action allowed his mind to focus.

A ripple in his boundary had him stopping mid swing.

“Don’t let me stop you.” the voice of Derek Hale drifted to him from his right.

“You really are stubborn.” Stiles huffed as he continued with his task.

Derek smirked, “You should’ve realized that I would eventually limit the area where you were by your jogging trails. If you wanted to be left alone, you should’ve done better at laying false trails.”

“I believe what I said was that if you found me, you gained the right to talk to me.” Another chop, “You performed an in depth grid type search by jogging circles around the preserve. In your free time might I add.” Another chop, “I would say that you gained that right.”

Stiles looked over at him to find he wasn’t in jogging gear, but dark jeans, boots, and a red Henley.

“Ah! So you found this place before.”

“I found it earlier this morning, thought I’d shower and change before coming to talk to you. I also brought a peace offering.” He held out a large brown bag and a six pack of beer.

“I don’t want to get your expectations up, My home isn’t much.”

“I don’t care, I just want to eat some Chinese with a friend.”

Stiles smiled softly as he motioned for Derek to follow as he led the way into his home. Very glad that he had kept up with slowly making his home just that, a home.

When he now walked into his cave it was still filled with that same amber light but he now had a used record player he found in a dumpster and small collection of records in a crate underneath the small table it sat on. He was only stealing one or two records a month from the music store downtown. He said stealing but he would always leave money either in the tip jar or in the office in the back to cover the cost. He just didn't want people asking him questions.

He had two bar stools over by his counter he made when he first moved in.

Around his living room are his pictures and keepsakes from his world. The books he had brought and stole.

In the back corner of his home he had an 'L' shaped counter that had served as his magical workstation. His drying herbs hang above the space.

Hanging from the ceiling off to the side was an old punching bag he found in the gym's dumpster. A little magic and it looked almost new. Some free weights were stacked along the wall.

On the wall as you walked in was a wall of dry erase and tack Boards. All displaying lists of more research he needed to do and magical theory.

Soft moss now covered his floor and his kitchen was stocked with anything from pop tarts to veggies from his garden.

He cleared his current lesson plans off the counter and turned to motion Derek forward, but Derek was staring at one of the pictures on his shelves.

Silently, stiles moved closer and an ache gripped his heart. It was one of the few pictures of him and his Derek back home. Lydia had snapped it when they both weren't looking.

Derek had his arms crossed and his murder brows on full display as Stiles was leaned over a table talking a mile a minute. They were obviously planning something, but Stiles was once again drawn to why he kept the photo all these years, why he found he couldn't look at it, just as he couldn't throw it away.

Though Derek's eyebrows and body language screamed for Stiles to shut up, there was a small upturn to the corner of his mouth and his eyes watched Stiles in a soft affection. Affection he would never admit.

Beside that picture was the only other photo with Derek in it. This one he was smiling in it and looking at Stiles in ways that still made Stiles want to fidget even now. They were at Deaton's and Stiles had his head thrown back laughing. Scott was also there, looking at stiles laughing with answering laughter all over his face.

"I'll take those." Stiles' voice was hoarse as he grabbed the food and beer from Derek's frozen hands.

Derek jumped and looked frightened, at being caught or seeing another version of himself Stiles didn't know.

Stiles turned and sat everything up and even added some wolfsbane extract to Derek's beer.

They sat in heavy silence for a second as they ate. Stiles wasn't in a hurry and let Derek process whatever he needed to.

"This is-" Derek stopped talking as if he didn't know how to continue, looking around the cave.

"Not what you were expecting?" Stiles supplied helpfully after it seemed Derek was speechless.

Derek's eyes widened a little comically, "Not that that's a bad thing."

Stiles chuckled, "Easy big guy. It's a fucking cave. You don't have to compliment it. Though I really don't know what you were expecting."

"House shaped like a shoe?" Derek supplied weakly.

"Really?" Stiles deadpanned.

Derek chuckled as he opened his chopsticks, "No, I didn't actually think about what your setup would look like."

Stiles raised a skeptical eyebrow as Derek finished placing another dumpling on a plate.

"I really was just focused on finding you." Derek spoke lightly as if he didn't realize the weight of that sentence. As if he didn't realize that stiles couldn't breathe. As if Stiles' body didn't feel warm all over.

Derek didn't look at him as he placed the plate in front of a shocked Stiles.

Stiles looked down at the full plate in front of him as the warmth intensified. Derek didn't see the soft wonder in Stiles' eyes as Derek made his own plate. Derek had made sure he got his food first, had served him, had taken care of him.

"Well, congrats, here I am."

Neither of them commented on how tight Stiles' voice had become.

Hours later when Stiles was watching Derek trudging his way back toward his perimeter Stiles found he could keep his mouth shut.

"Derek," Stiles called softly, knowing werewolf hearing would enable Derek to hear him perfectly. He couldn't help the jump in his heartbeat as Derek immediately turned to look back at him, "tomorrow I'm making stir fry, if you want some."

Stiles tried not to panic. This was completely off his keep people at a distance game plan. He thought his anxiety might claw its way out from his insides. What's more is that he couldn't help but second guess from earlier.

Derek could've meant he just wanted to beat a challenge. Find Stiles when Stiles thought he was untouchable.

He shouldn't have worried, he had barely finished his sentence before Derek was asking what time.

Chapter Text

Stiles was walking through the upstairs hallway of the Hale mansion, leaving a meeting with Talia, when a sniffle stopped him in his tracks.

Opening the cracked library door he saw Laura, with tears falling down her face, sitting between a furious looking Peter and Derek who had his arm around her comfortingly.

When the door opened all three heads whipped up and then simultaneously the three werewolves' shoulders relaxed when they saw it was him.

"Oh!" Peter exclaimed happily, "here's a man that will agree with me! Come in, shut the door."

Stiles did as he was told and heard Laura's soft sob right as Derek let out a long suffering sigh.

Stiles settled himself in a chair across from them, making himself comfortable before looking at them expectantly.

"I need to kill someone." Peter stated simply.

"Okay," Stiles accepted immediately, "I'm not getting blood in my Jeep." He warned.

"God, I love you." Peter's entire being sung with it and Stiles smiled wolfishly.

"No one is killing anyone." Laura mumbled, looking miserable.

"What's his name?" Stiles asked quietly.

"Her name?" Stiles added when Laura didn't answer.

Laura huffed out a humorless laugh, "Devon. He works at my law firm. We've been seeing each other for three months now, but today the daughter of one of the firm's partners came in and brought him lunch. They kissed right in front of me and after she left he came over to my desk to simply say no hard feelings."

Peter growled low, but Laura ignored him to continue, "We have a soiree for the firm tomorrow, our top clients, and the other who's who from the judicial world. Devon and I were supposed to go together. I had several contacts I wanted to talk to, but now they are going together. I Instagram stalked her, she went dress shopping. He's been seeing the both of us for a month now."

Stiles hummed softly before sending a look to Peter, "So are we taking your car? A rental?"

Laura huffed out a small, but genuine laugh, "Shut up, Stiles."

"Okay, maybe we don't kill him," Stiles shrugged, "but we do need to teach him a lesson. You still need to go tomorrow."

"I-I can't go. I can’t see them together." Laura’s voice was small, so out of place coming out of the fiery woman.

"Do not let this trash heap have that much influence over you. You said your top clients and influential people are going to be there, right?" Stiles sat up earnestly, meeting her sad and lost eyes.

She nodded.

"Then don't let him hold you back from this. This is not about him. This is about you." Stiles now stood, leaning over toward her across the table.

"Everyone knew about us and a lot of people saw the whole thing happen, I can't show up alone. The gossip and humiliation unfortunately will be just as detrimental. It's stupid but true."

"Who said you were going alone?" Stiles smirked wickedly.

Her eyes widened, Derek’s mouth dropped, and Peter started chuckling with a devious smile on his face.

“Stiles, I don’t want you to do that. I will be a mess all evening and I don’t have energy to get ready. It’s black tie. You would have to buy things, as I'm assuming you didn't fall through time and space with a suit.”

“Do you trust me?” Stiles asked after studying her for a long second.

She nodded again.

“Then trust me when I say I will take care of everything.”

“Why are you helping me?” Laura’s weak voice, the insecure way her body folded in on itself, and the lost look in her eye makes Stiles’ heart tighten. He was sure he had the same look when- when- he stopped his train of thought. He wanted, needed, to protect her.

Stiles stood up straight to start putting plans into action, but gently reached to lift Laura's chin so he could wipe her tears from her cheeks, "I am going to remind you how you should be treated."

Stiles spent the rest of the day making phone calls, researching, and with the help of Peter, created an airtight identity and backstory. He was an engineer who specialized in green energy. He could bullshit his way through the mathematics and science behind it if he needed to and it would explain how he and Laura met as Peter’s main cover is that he owns a tech company.

When Stiles went to bed that night he had a smile on his face. He was going to remind Laura that she was priceless and deserved better. He was also going to make sure this Devon character would have to constantly see them. Devon could not run from what he did, Stiles would make sure of that.

He had exhausted himself with scheduling the day out. He knew exactly how the day was going to go. He had some backup plans here and there, but he didn't think he'd have to use them.

While Stiles spent the morning, Laura was going to wake up to Erica, Cora, Lydia, Kira, and Talia all in her bedroom, demanding she get up.

Stiles had told them to let her sleep in, but at 10 it was time to get up.

He pictured Laura stumbling downstairs where a team of people would be setting up a multitude of things in the living room. Massage tables, lotions, champagne, fruit platters, and more.

"Stiles got us an at home spa day!" Kira would exclaim, all the other women gathering around to rally around their wounded packmate. Distracting her to the best of their ability.

Peter and Derek would walk in about an hour after the team left with several boxes in their arms. Stiles had spent three hours picking everything out for Laura the previous day.

Her dress would follow the line of her slender body perfectly. He knew when he saw it that nothing could top it. Long and royal blue with silver accents. Backless, but had loose columns of pearls filling in the space.

Another team of different people would arrive not long after that. It was time for her makeup and hair. Stiles provided dozens of small pearl hairpins, to match the dress, that would eventually hold up her dark hair in a messy, but elegant updo.

All that was left at this time of the day is for Stiles to make his entrance. His suit had a velvet royal blue jacket with black lapels. His tie was black with thin silver intricate designs of the stars. He fiddled with his cuff as he sprang up the wooden steps towards the front door. A container under his arm.

It opened before he got there to reveal Peter smirking at him. He winked at the older man as he sauntered into the werewolf den. As he crossed the threshold he easily hid his gift behind his back.

Talia greeted him warmly and Derek smiled at him, but it came out more of a grimace.

He didn't have time to question that as Laura appeared at the top of the stairs greeting him. He had been right, she was unbelievably gorgeous in the dress. She looked like she was gliding down the steps, thanks to the split that went to mid thigh, as her dress flowed out behind her. He had never noticed she had small dimples when she smiled.

"Wow," she looked him up and down appreciatively, "you looked good before, but now you look completely edible."

Stiles rolled his eyes but took her hand as she came to stop in front of him to kiss it softly, "No one can hold a candle to you tonight."

She laughed as she went to take a shaw her mother was holding out for her. When she turned back Stiles was dismayed to see the nerves she was working hard to hide.

"What do you have behind your back? Flowers?" Laura's eyes were still sad, but her sarcastic smirk was real. Stiles took it as a win.

"No, something better." He brought out a container that had hot chicken nuggets piled to the top. He knew she most likely hadn't eaten since the fruit and cheese this morning. He was going to protect her tonight. That included hydration and making sure she eats.

He chuckled as her eyes lit up, "Oh! I'm starving!"

He offered her his arm which she took easily, a bright smile across her face. Her shoulders relaxed, Stiles smiled at the sight.

"What in the Hell is that?" Laura's shrill shock had him cocking an amused eyebrow at her.

"If you are talking about the car," he continued to lead her to the impressive machine, "then this beauty is a Ferrari Portofino."

Laura scowled and rolled her eyes at him, "I know what kind of car this is, Stiles! What I mean is how in the world did you get one?"

Stiles smirked cockily, "Oh that's right, Devon tried to get one on credit, didn't he? Couldn't swing it though. So," Stiles opened the door with a challenging look, " are you going to keep asking questions or are you going to get in?"

Laura's eyes turned mischievous and a lethal grin took over her face as she slid into the front seat, right as Derek and Peter came out onto the porch.

"Wow," Peter breathed in awe, "I really need one of those."

"Are you talking about me or the car?" Stiles casually threw over his shoulder as he walked around to the drivers side.

Peter threw his head back and laughed, "You already know you have me."

Derek's murder brows were on full display as he stared daggers at the car, "Don't kill my sister."

Stiles paused at Derek's growls, "I will protect her, I swear."

Then a wolfish smile overtook his face, "But she may not be able to control herself around me."

Stiles laughed loudly at Derek's flared nostrils and Laura's exasperated huff from her seat. He easily climbed in and they started on their way to the event.

Stiles had hacked into Devon's accounts and had found out about the car, but he also took a look at the man's planner and GPS signal, all of which Devon linked to his cloud storage. Not even password protected. Amateur.

Stiles had planned the timing perfectly. As they pulled into the long winding driveway of the expensive country club, Devon pulled in right behind them.

Laura immediately recognized the car and her breathing quickened. Stiles didn't say anything as he reached over to take one of her shaking hands into his larger one. She didn't look at him, but she gripped tightly to the life line he'd thrown her.

There were two cars ahead of them. The two valets in their pristine uniforms stared at his car in open disbelief. He saw them quickly argue who would get to park it.

He turned his head away to look at a worried looking Laura.

"Look at me." He softly commanded and she listened immediately.

"If this becomes too much you say the word and we're gone." He kept his eyes intense to make sure she understood he was speaking the truth.

His eyes softened and he took in her nervous lip biting. Slowly he reached over to run his thumb across her lower abused lip, rescuing it from her teeth, "I will be right with you the entire time. You want me to get you a drink, I will. You want to dance, I will. You want to go to the coat closet and come back out disheveled so that asshole thinks we just had a quickie, I will. But you have to do something for me. I want you to hold your head up high tonight. You are unbelievably beautiful." His thumb was now stroking her jaw, "You are intelligent and successful. But more than that you are a Hale for fuck sake. Strong, stubborn, and regal. You are my future Alpha. Don't forget who you are."

Her eyes widened and welled with tears. He hadn't actually said anything to ever indicate he thought of himself as pack outloud before and he found he couldn't look at her feeling as vulnerable as he did.

"You ready?" He let his hand drop as he saw it was their turn. She blinked and her face became a sultry mask.

He smiled in pride before his own face turned into a cocky mask. Their act was about to begin and he promised he wouldn't let her down.

He stepped out of the car and handed a hundred to the valet as they shook hands and called out, "I'll get the door," to the other worker coming up to Laura's side of the car.

"Trust me," he continued, loud enough he knew Devon would be able to hear, "when your date looks this good it's a privilege to wait on her hand and foot." He finished it out with a wink, also handing this man a hundred, as he opened the passenger door.

Stiles could see it all from Devon's perspective. His dream car, the witnessed soft touches through the back window, then an elegant hand reaches out to take the waiting hand of the driver. A black stiletto attached to an exposed long beautiful leg. The man is looking at the woman with such warmth and kisses the delicate hand as he helps her up. Those so familiar sharp features of her face appear next and Devon's stomach drops a little.

Stiles brought his arm around her waist to bring her closer to him, whispering encouragement in her ear the entire walk up the steps.

He allowed her to lead when they walked through the wide open ornate double doors. She was in her element and he was happy to let her take center stage.

Throughout the night Devon was staring, his date sending him confused glances, but Laura didn't openly lose stride. Stiles saw her charm the pants off every person they talked to. He joked and added to the conversation when he knew it would add to her appeal, but tonight wasn't about him.

Though when it was just the two of them she allowed her true feelings to shine through. Looking at him with desperate eyes. It was then he would lean in to whisper a really bad joke about someone near them. It had worked each time, Laura throwing her head back to laugh loudly. Even when she didn't seem to need validation he would start to feel her tense and choose to be proactive. Bringing her hand to kiss it gently, kiss her temple, even one time kissing her exposed shoulder when she caught a glimpse of Devon staring.

They had danced twice, once to get her away from an approaching Devon and another because she had wanted to.

Throughout the night Stiles brought her drinks to give her hands something to do. Sometimes adding wolfsbane extract to help her feel a small buzz.

When she started to lean a little on him and sighing he subtly asked if she wanted to leave. She just nodded gratefully.

"Home?" She asked softly as she buckled herself in.

"Not quite yet." He spoke as he started the car.

At her confused look he continued, "I have to return the car."

"So you did steal it." Laura sounded disapproving, but her smirk gave her away.

He laughed lightly as he pulled away, "No! I merely borrowed it. The owner will never know, sleeping spells are useful like that."

Laura hummed sarcastically, but then burst into giggles.

"Oh," Stiles said as he turned onto the main road, "if you open this middle console there is another gift for you."

Laura quickly opened the compartment and gasped happily, "Is this Peter's special brew?"

Stiles smiled mischievously, but said nothing.

"You are amazing!" She sighed happily as she took a long drink.

They climbed into his Jeep after switching cars and Laura turned up the radio to sing loudly. She laughed as Stiles sped away, flinging her arms in the air whooping. He laughed at her joy.

As he parked in front of the Hale house Laura simply passed him a drink from the cooler he had behind his seat. She was already on her third.

He took a swig, the sound of his gulp sounded loud in the dark night. Laura got comfortable in her seat, so Stiles let her start in her own time. If she wasn't ready to go in, he'd wait with her.

She took another sip before she started to speak. She talked about how they met, about how she felt, and then it turned to everything that made her angry about Devon the drunker she got.

Stiles listened patiently. Joking to make her laugh and vehemently agreeing with every bad thing she said about the man. By the end of it Stiles had a buzz from the four drinks he sipped on, but Laura was properly drunk.

"I'm hungry." Laura suddenly grumbled grumpily.

Stiles chuckled, "Come on."

Stiles and Laura came through the door laughing loudly.

"Once I change it's food time!" Laura announced as she clumsily made her way up the stairs. Stiles smiled after her, but a frozen figure out of the corner of his eye made him turn and look.

Derek was sitting on the couch, book in hand, staring at him. Stiles felt a little hot all of a sudden or maybe that was the alcohol. Those eyes though seemed to burn him.

Stiles took inventory of how he looked. His tie was now undone and hung loosely around his neck. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone. His hair was now sticking up in weird angles.

A deep and painful longing filled him as he looked at how casual Derek looked in his grey sweatpants and undershirt. Stiles could pretend Derek had been waiting for him, could pretend that this is what he always came home to.

Derek was so beautiful and Stiles had been pretending to be in a relationship the entire night. Holding someone close, whispering in their ear, kissing their skin. He wanted it to be real. Needed something to feel the aching emptiness that had been there for years now. It made him want to be reckless.

He didn't know what he looked like to Derek right then but he thought he saw a flash of longing from the man too. He couldn't be sure. He could be projecting. He wanted it to be true so bad.

He plastered a flirty smile on his face as he walked toward the man. He kept eye contact and he slowly slid his tie from around his neck, wrapping it around his hand. Derek was still frozen, watching his movements intensely.

Stiles pictured climbing into Derek's lap, running his hands up the man's chest. Pictured Derek sitting up to meet his body, determined to get as close as possible. He would hear Derek's book hit the floor with a soft thump as Derek tossed it away to run his hands up Stiles' back.

Derek would run his nose along Stiles' neck, scenting him. Stiles would groan as he let his head fall back, giving Derek access to his entire throat. Showing Stiles' trust, but more than that, showing his submission to the werewolf. Showing that he knew he belonged to Derek.

Stiles' hand would grip onto Derek's hair a little too hard, causing Derek to growl. The vibrations rolling against the muscles in Stiles' neck.

Stiles jolted back as Derek's nostrils flared and he knew what Derek was smelling. He found he didn't care.

Derek suddenly stood, setting his book on the side table near him, not looking away from Stiles.

"Are you drunk?" Derek asked, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Stiles couldn't speak, so he just shook his head. Derek seemed to be relieved, but a soft confused look danced across his features.

"Are you staying?" Derek softly continued.

Once again Stiles just nodded. Laura had asked and he found he didn't want to trudge through the forest, buzzed, in the dark.

Derek looked him up and down, making Stiles want to fidget.

"We need to get you out of those clothes. I'm sure you are uncomfortable." Derek's voice was even softer, almost reverent.

Stiles' hands twitched, "I don't have a change of clothes." His voice was breathless and some part of his brain hated him for it. He could magic some clothes, but right now he really didn't want to have clothes.

Derek hummed deeply and Stiles found himself leaning slightly forward, but he quickly corrected his stance.

"You can wear some of my clothes."

Derek said it so softly that Stiles didn't know if he had actually heard correctly and he thought he saw that look of longing again, for just a second.

"Lead the way, Mr. Hale"

Derek huffed out a laugh but turned toward the stairs. Stiles stared at Derek's hand, hanging loosely at his side, on the way up. Imagining reaching out and taking hold of it. He didn't.

Derek led them to a door at the far end of the hallway, away from everything else. It would be so easy to- Stiles stopped himself.

Stiles shut the door behind them as Derek went to a dresser on the far side of the room. Stiles focused on Derek's shoulders. Watching his muscles work as he moved about. He pictured how beautiful those muscles would look, tense and lethal, as Stiles thrust into him from behind.

Stiles in a daze slid his jacket from his shoulders, throwing it onto a chair by the door and started to unbutton his shirt, untucking it as he went.

When Derek turned around with a T-shirt and sweats in his hand Derek froze. Stiles had shut the door but hadn't moved away from it. His dress shirt hung open, his bare chest on display and a small challenge in his eye.

Another image invaded Stiles' mind. Flashes of Derek sinking to his knees. Derek nibbles at Stiles' hip, pulling the fabric of his pants to reach the spot he wanted. Stiles' hand lovingly runs through Derek's hair. Stiles' head thrown back against the door as he panted out praise.

Stiles blinked and they were both still standing, staring. Derek swallowed loudly, bringing Stiles' eyes to his throat.

Derek walked slowly toward Stiles. Stiles couldn't breathe, couldn't think, just focused on each step Derek took.

Derek stopped a few inches away from Stiles. He's far too close. He isn't close enough. Stiles was terrified, he couldn't breathe. He wanted, no craved, Derek. He couldn't allow himself this. Could he survive again?

Derek's voice halted his panic, "Are you okay?"

The simple genuine concern on Derek's face brought that longing back to the surface again. That longing that Stiles tried not to think about every single day.

"Let me help you." Derek whispered as he sat the clothes still in his hands down.

Stiles didn't understand until Derek's steady, strong, and gentle hands started to push the dress shirt from his shoulders. Derek’s hands gliding along his skin.

Stiles insides lit on fire. He couldn't hide his breathing becoming ragged.

"You know," Derek's voice was still a whisper, "because you've been drinking."

Stiles just nodded again. His chest rising and falling heavily.

Derek's hands didn't leave his body as he let the shirt drop to the floor, only to travel lower, toward Stiles' stomach.

Stiles closed his eyes for a second, releasing a heavy breath. When Derek's finger unbuttoned his pants, Stiles' eyes slowly opened. He didn't want to miss any facial expression on Derek's face.

Derek slowly unzipped the pants and Stiles knew there was no way he couldn't feel how much Stiles wanted this.

Stiles' pants fell down his legs and Derek bent to follow them, his hand guiding Stiles' legs out of the pants one by one.

Derek looked up at him from his crouched position before slowly standing back up. Stiles could swear he was even closer.

Derek helps Stiles into his clothes, but didn't move away and Stiles found he truly didn't want him to.

He was breaking all his rules already, couldn't he break this one too?

This was the most important one, his brain unhelpfully supplied. Out of everyone Derek is the most dangerous to him.

Derek leaned in and Stiles felt his back hit the door. Derek's hands came to either side of Stiles' head, resting on the wood behind it.

Derek's leg slid in between Stiles' leg. Stiles' hard on rubbed deliciously against the provided surface. Both men's breathing hitched loudly.

Stiles easily leaned his head back and to the side to show his neck to the werewolf.

Derek growled softly as his nose came to run along the exposed skin. Stiles thought back to his fantasy in the living room and his dick twitched. Derek leaned more heavily against him, causing stars to appear behind Stiles eyes as Derek's leg rubbed against him again.

Stiles' head hit the door with a soft thump, "Fuck." Stiles hissed out. He didn't know how this had started but he wished it would continue.

"Smell like pack. Smell like me." Derek's voice was deeper, raspier.

Derek's nose came to run along Stiles' jaw and Stiles couldn't help it when his hands reached out to Derek's hips, tightly gripping, trying to desperately ground himself back to earth. Trying to gain control again. Derek groaned at the contact.

Derek's nose turned into lips running along Stiles' skin, those lips slightly open, like Derek was breathing Stiles in.

Suddenly Derek backed away, looking disgruntled.

"Laura is in the kitchen. You should go on down. I'm sorry for overstepping."

Stiles felt like a freezing cold bucket of water had just been poured over his head. He blinked dazedly a few times, but Derek wouldn't look at him.

Stiles stood straighter and a hard mask quickly covered his true feelings. He had been a fool. He had read the signals wrong. He didn't know what the hell just happened, but it would never happen again. He'd make sure of that.

Derek looked even more distressed, but Stiles had already packed away his feelings. He couldn't find it in himself to care.

Instead he went to the kitchen and ate litteral midnight snacks with Laura. Smiling for her.

"I don't want to have to deal with Kali's pack coming in two days." Laura drunkenly whined.

Stiles froze and Laura's eyes widened, "Sorry! Mom wanted to tell you herself. She suggested you stay away, but would you be there when they show up, for me? I feel safer with you near."

Her face was so open that he found he couldn't say no, so he smiled and nodded.

"Thank you!" She said, relieved, "And don't worry, I'll talk to mom about it tomorrow. Peter has been bragging about you to anyone that will listen anyway. I'm sure Kali will want to meet you."

He grimaced, causing her to laugh loudly, "I know, but we'll keep her in check for you."

He smiled in gratitude.

It wasn't too much longer before he was carrying a sleepy and incoherent Laura up to her room.

He laid her down on the bed and brought the covers to tuck her in. Laura smiled up at him affectionately, reaching out her hand, "Thank you for tonight."

He smiled as he easily held her hand, "Anytime you need me, I'll be there."

Laura smiled drunkenly and her eyes were already closing, her hand falling limply from his as she mumbled out, "I'm so glad you died so I can have you in my life."

Stiles froze and he didn't have to hide the anguish he felt as Laura was already snoring softly.

Numbly Stiles straightened up and closed the door softly on his way out of her room. The fucked up question running through his brain was, did Laura mean the 7 year old or him. Both had died. He had died. He was dead.

This wasn’t his. He didn’t belong here. He felt white hot shame feel him. He had failed his pack. His Derek didn’t want him. This was wrong. He was wrong. Twisted and dark.

His hands started shaking on the way down the stairs. His vision started to get blurry as he moved their dishes into the sink. His breathing started to come in short gasps as he started to clean them.

Suddenly, a strong hand gripped his wrist, stopping his scrubbing. No, Stiles thought desperately, anyone but him.

Of course Derek found him like that. He hated this. He was already weak in front of him tonight. Why did it have to be Derek?

Derek, who hated him in every universe. Derek, who would destroy him in every life he was given. Derek, who would never want him.

"None of that is true." Derek spoke into his hair as he brought Stiles' trembling body to his chest.

Stiles’ spiraling brain didn’t register Derek’s words, didn’t understand he was speaking out loud.

Stiles faintly registered Derek picking him up and heading back upstairs. He heard the click of a door and the shuffle of sheets. He felt a body wrap him in a protective embrace to help him fall asleep, Derek didn't have to wait long before Stiles had passed out.

Stiles woke before Derek and snuck out of the house, not meeting a soul.

The day was spent with him trying to find steady ground again. To find control. He needed to find it. He would find it.

On his way to the Hale house the morning of Kali's visit he had perfected his mask.

Chapter Text

Stiles had managed to avoid Derek throughout the morning, but now he, Derek, Peter, and Cora all sat in the living room.

Laura stuck by him all morning, but her anxiety was continually growing to the point that her hands were wringing and she was muttering to herself.

He sat on the couch watching her pace back and forth, ignoring Derek's glances. Stiles also ignored Peter, who kept glancing between Derek and himself. Stiles found he was happy to push that to the back burner right now. He had to prepare himself for Kali, but he found he didn’t want to deal with that either.

Instead he focused entirely on Laura. She kept repeating her official greeting over and over again. He could feel Cora’s growing agitation from across the room.

He felt a smirk grow as how ridiculous this entire situation was settled into his brain. Peter, reading the amount of tension in the room and Stiles knew Peter’s mind was working overtime to try and figure it out. Derek, causing himself more harm than Stiles wished upon him, as always. Then Cora, being completely done with everyone.

Laura eventually caught sight of his face out of the corner of her eye. She huffed dramatically and crossed her arms defensively, "Shut up."

Laughing lightly he easily stood to approach her.

"I had a lot of fun with you the other night." He put his hands in his pockets and his easy demeanor had her relaxing slightly.

She answered him with that dimple smile, "I had a blast!"

"May I offer an observation from a third party about that night?" He lightly asked.

He could see her confusion as she nodded.

"You had every single person in that room eating out of the palm of your hand within the first two seconds of you speaking to them. You were incredible and I know you will be incredible today."
Laura rolled her eyes, "I was that confident because you were there."

Stiles smiled, but playfully nudged her with his elbow, "Today you not only have me, but your entire pack here with you today."

Laura looked at him like he was missing something obvious, "Exactly! My pack that is looking for me to take over one day! Talia never makes mistakes! She's never rattled."

Stiles sent a playful smirk to Peter when he snorted loudly, "Laura firstly, do you remember what I told you that first lesson about your wolf? That she wants you to succeed as much as you do?"

Laura bit her lip as she nodded.

He gently rescued her lip again, "A pack is like that as well. They want each other to succeed. Celebrating in their triumph and lifting them when they have sorrows. My pack wasn't typical, but we were strong on that, at least for the last few years. If that doesn't help just know if anyone gives you shit I will kill them."

Laura rolled her eyes, but caught his serious face and her eyes widened minutely, "And secondly?" Laura's voice came out wispy.

"And secondly," Stiles smirked now, "Talia Hale has made mistakes and will make mistakes, because no leader is perfect. Nothing against her, she's a fine Alpha, but no one is perfect. Thirdly, I am going to give you some advice. You need to break a few rules here and there randomly. You need to walk a little on the wild side a few times. You definitely need to embrace your animalistic side of you as well."

Laura scoffed loudly in disbelief, but Stiles continued, "I bet Talia did when she was in training."

Laura looked to Peter who was looking at them in pride.

"She did not." Laura dismissed the thought easily.

Stiles raised his eyebrows, "Do you honestly think she'd have been able to handle me if she hadn't?"

Peter threw his head back and laughed loudly, but Laura was looking over Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles turned around to see a smiling Alpha Talia Hale.

"He's right, my dear."

She smirked before continuing, "They are coming down the driveway. We need to get into place."

Laura looked to Stiles and he breathed in deeply only to release it slowly. She nodded and followed his second deep breath. She continued as she walked over to her mother.

Talia wrapped an encouraging arm around her shoulders, only to mouth 'Thank You' toward Stiles. He nodded once.

Stiles stood by Deaton, measuring his breathing as the door opened. Laura would have greeted them outside. Getting the official protocol out of the way.

“Kali! Welcome back!”

“Talia! It's been too long. You look well. You remember my second, Jason." A short dark haired man nodded in respect, "Allow me to introduce my new emissary.” Kali turned, revealing a shorter woman behind her.

Stiles felt the air get knocked out of him and he saw Talia’s shoulders tense as Kali continued, “Alpha Hale, allow me to present Jennifer Blake, Jonathon found a mate in a pack down in New Orleans, but Jennifer isn’t having a problem stepping into her mentor’s shoes.”

Talia moved with purpose as she went to shake Jennifer’s hand, sliding a little to the left to block Stiles from the woman.

It sent a warm feeling into his belly that Talia put herself in a subtle protective position for him, but the damage was done. She had blind sided him and he could feel his pulse getting louder in his ears.

She was here. She was feet from him.

His parent's, his brother, Derek, all the havoc she had pushed into his life. Vomit worked its way into his throat.

Then flashes of the people he cares about here flashed in his mind. Same faces, but different. Panic. He was going to lose them again. He just got them. This had to be hell. He didn’t deserve this. He had known it was too good for the likes of him.

Suddenly there was a wall of warmth at his back and the smell of leather and forest wrapped around him. A feather light brush of skin against his wrist and a soft wisp of breath against the back of his neck.

“We got you. You aren’t alone.” Derek’s barely there whisper had him taking a steadier breath. His hands were unclenching, but his shoulders didn’t relax.

He subtly fell into the background as the guests made their way into the house. Talia and Kali talking a mile a minute about each of their last years.

Stiles knew where Jennifer was the entire time. Hours passed, but his back was never to her. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end every time she spoke.

He was never left alone. It seemed his pack had worked out a rotation. Deaton, then Luara, then Peter, then Derek, then Nick Hale, then repeat.

It wasn't until later that night, when their company had retired to the guest rooms that Talia motioned for him to follow her.

Stiles hadn't said anything the entire time. He was happy to see that it was only Talia, Deaton, Laura, Derek, and Peter.

Once the door clicked shut Talia leaned on her desk facing everyone.

"Nick is watching her room to make sure she doesn’t wander during the night. Laura?" Talia briskly asked.

"I'm so sorry! When I saw her I couldn't do anything, but I did notice she seemed to not really talk to Kali or Jason. From what I overheard, she had been recommended to Kali by an agency."

"It's okay," Talia comforted, "That means Kali isn't the one holding the strings it seems. Derek?"

"She did indeed keep trying to ask about our lessons and who the strongest in the pack was. She also wanted to know who the new spark was that she heard about. Once she found out it was Stiles she seemed determined to find out everything about him."

Talia nodded with her eyes narrowed in thought, "Definitely looking for power. Deaton?"

"She did ask about the magical signature of the town. She also asked if the legends were true and we had a Nemeton. I gave her nothing."
Talia smiled in gratitude, "Peter?"

"I took a look at her past and she seems to find a pack right before something terrible befalls them or they find themselves in possession of a powerful artifact. She has jumped ship several times. I believe it's a little two convenient that Kali’s emissary, who had visited that New Orleans pack multiple times before, just happened to find his mate just months after Jennifer showed up."

Talia pursed her lips, "So this Jennifer is very much the same as the other one it would appear. Stiles, I'm so sorry, but I need you to stay in the Den for now."

Stiles' eyes widened and his hands started to shake, Peter was in front of him in a heartbeat, his hands holding Stiles’ face.

Stiles tried to focus on Peter's touch and voice, but it was too much.

"Listen to me," the older man commanded, "You are safe."

"But you aren't!" Stiles yelled in his panic. Surprise took over Peter's face. Did he truly believe Stiles was just scared for himself? He was going to lose them. They were dead and they didn’t even know it. Stiles was in his own personal Hell. Watching them die over and over again, seeing the light in their eyes dim from grief, leaving them all broken. He couldn’t allow that, but he had already failed that mission once before.

"She is a power hungry opportunistic witch! I was helpless as she stripped everyone away from me. She- she-" he couldn't finish as his legs gave out, but Peter caught him easily.

"Stiles," Talia's voice drifted into his brain, " I want you here, because I don't want her finding your home. I want you here so I, so we, can protect you."

"She's going to kill everyone again. I’ll have to watch it again. I failed. We need to kill her." Stiles' voice was little more than a desperate gowl by the end.

Peter nodded, "I agree she needs to die, but we need to wait for her to fuck up first. We can’t have your secret out and we don’t want to go to war with Kali. So we are going to force her to show her true colors. She's got you in her sights. We are going to keep you away from her. Get her frustrated and desperate. She'll make a mistake."

Stiles froze as his words processed. Stiles would be bait and he found he didn't care, as long as no one else died. Let her focus on him instead of anyone else.

Stiles nodded, even as his body still shook, “She can’t know who my parents are.”

Talia nodded in agreement, “I will speak with them both and we will add protection to their house.

"Derek will go with you to your home so you can grab clothes and anything else you need." Talia instructed seriously.

Stiles nodded his head as he stood on his own two feet again. His eyes screamed in fear, but he motioned Derek to follow him.

Stiles couldn't focus on his insecurities or his hurt from the other night. It seemed to be stupid now. Stiles wouldn't let anything happen to Derek. Jennifer wouldn't fuck with this one.

For the rest of the week he slept in Derek's room. Every night he woke up screaming a fallen pack member's name. The peaceful sleep runes in his cave, gifted to him by his mother, had kept them at bay, but he didn’t have them here. So his old one came back full force, mixed with newer frightening ones. He tried not to be embarrassed that when he dreamed about his Derek, this one now knew now. Derek never said anything and never judged him.

Stiles had tried to change rooms, apologizing to Derek for waking him, but Derek pulled him back into the bed, bringing him to his chest as he sleepily told Stiles to shut up.

Jennifer was constantly blocked from meeting him by the pack. His students and family were brought into the plan. She still showed up to his lesson earlier in the week. Sitting in the back of the library as he went over very simple herbs and what they did.Now the sun was beating down on his shoulders as he instructed his student off from the sidelines.

This was part of the plan as well, giving no information freely. She had to guess at his knowledge and power.

Stiles was getting more and more nervous that she would hold off on acting until she could be free from her company. If she did that then they didn’t have the advantage of a strict timeline and place.

Issac blocked a particularly vicious attack by Cora and Stiles clapped as he yelled his praise to the blonde boy.

A light laugh had everyone looking over to the filled porch. Every head was turned to Kali as she laughed at what Jennifer was saying in her ear.

Kali nodded, mirth dancing in her eyes as she turned to Talia, “My emissary is wondering if you lied to us about your new packmate. You said he is a spark and yet he has shown no indication of having magical ability.”

Talia’s nostrils flared as a low growl rumbled through her chest causing Kali to hold her hands up in a placating manner, “We were just wondering if Jennifer could take him through the paces. She is quite powerful and might be able to teach him something.”

“That-” Talia’s voice was cold, “would be up to Stiles.”

Every face turned to him, he regarded Jennifer in a cold disinterest for a second. Taking in her flirty smile and challenging eyes. Always trying to use her looks to get her way. She was over confident in her abilities, even more than she was in his universe. He was a spark- magic itself. She begged for it from her books- hoping the gods listened. Repaying them with delusions of grandeur instead of what she should- gratitude. He felt his spark twitch at her disrespect, thinking the spells were her creation alone and not small gifts from the veil.

Stiles pushed off the thought that he himself didn't believe in anything like that either, but he enjoyed having something else to add to the list of reasons why she needed to die. So he embraced that mystical thinking for once, because fuck her.

“If the witch,” he let his contemptment for her breed wash into his tone, “thinks she has something of value,” he let his eyes slide to Talia’s, “I don’t mind a little exercise.”

Talia looked at him with troubled eyes, but nodded her agreement. This was part of the plan after all. This was the moment she could fuck up, but it also meant he would be in danger.

Peter and Stiles had gone over how to play this moment. Peter informed him that while Jennifer was looking to him for his power, Peter could smell she liked the way Stiles looked. He could use that. Jennifer was used to getting what she wanted, so make her work for it, be dismissive, and distract her here and there with only a glimpse of his true power.

His kids moved towards the porch to make room and Jennifer sauntered down the steps, arrogance flowing in her wake.

Stiles stood in his same spot on the field completely relaxed, hands clasped behind his back, making her come to him.

They fell immediately into a slow circle. Neither was in a rush.

“I won’t embarrass you too badly in front of your new pack.”

Stiles smirked, but didn’t say anything so she continued.
“I must say, I’m disappointed. You were the talk of the packs. Apparently the Hales had themselves a new powerful member, but I am left wondering if you were nothing more than exaggeration.”

He chuckled deeply, “What’s that saying again? No real god needs to prove himself. Anyone who tries is mad or lying.”

“Ohh,” Jennifer let a little excited thrill run down her body, “are we to fight to death then? Give you a chance to defend your honor?”

“Your slight isn’t noticeable enough to warrant your death.”

“Then what are we doing here? What is it you want? What do you want from me?”

“I should be asking you that, you were the one that felt it was prudent to challenge me.”

Jenifer surged forward into his face, Stiles turned to face her completely. Not a tense muscle in his body or a flinch at the sudden movement. She breathed him in while running a hand down his chest.

“I wanted to get close, see the power caged so carefully away. What do you want from me?”

“Peace and quiet. After I make you submit,” he leaned in hearing her breathing hitch, “and I will make you submit, you will leave me alone.”

Jennifer backed away, trailing her hand down to his hip, before she giggled, “This is going to be so much fun.”

Her first spell was easy to dodge and he sent her an exasperated eye roll at her obvious attempt to test the waters. Her smile grew as they started.

He was playing more defense, seeing how developed this Jennifer was. He was happy to see that she was on par with what he thought.

She was getting angier that he wasn’t attacking, so she ran and wrapped herself around him, going to incapacitate him by draining his magic from him, but he caught her wrists inches from his face. She giggled as she dragged her tongue across his jaw, “I like this position.” her voice came out breathless.

He pushed forward a tight cord of conjured black rope wrapped around her wrists to tie them together and then connected it to her throat. He flipped her around forcing her onto her knees facing away from him, the makeshift leash pulled tight, forcing her head back, “I like this better.” he growled.

She breathed deep before forcefully breaking the cord around her. He smiled at her blown pupils and surged forward with a high powered force push.

Jennifer was able to block it, but it left her winded. Stiles raised his eyebrows to ask if she wished to continue. Being winded after his first real attack wasn’t a good look.

She stood panting, seeming to reevaluate him. He stood back, hands once again held behind his back, completely at ease.

“Are you going to attack or just keep admiring the view?” She bit out.

Stiles chuckled, “Thought I’d let you catch your breath, give you a slim chance.”

She bared her teeth and pulled a knife from her belt. Stiles raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, but nonchalantly pulled out his own.

He rushed her this time and was pleased with her hand to hand ability. He managed to cut down her cheek and felt his elation that it would scar.

She managed to cut him on his shoulder by the time they danced out of each other's reach. He watched her every move and was confused by her gloating look until he felt it. From his cut the black veins slowly crawled their way through his body.

He staggered back a little and shook his head. This wasn't the same thing she had used on Scott, but it still sent his mind right back to staring at his brother's terrified eyes.

A growl so low started to build in him that he didn't know it was him at first. He felt a need to kill and strangely a need to tell her everything.

"What is this!" Peter growled toward Kali, but even she seemed to be surprised by this turn of events.

"Nothing lethal!" Jennifer's smug voice hit his brain like lightning. He wanted to rip her head from her body.

"Just a truth serum I've been working on. Thought I'd try it out!"

Stiles shook his head, "She's not telling the whole truth. It's mixed with something, I'm seeing things."

All around him distorted visions of his old pack swam. Yelling at him. Replaying their deaths. Replaying fights they had. Replaying their screams.
"Peter?" Stiles called out and heard the man jump the porch railing to come to his side immediately.

Stiles sent him a desperate searching look where Jennifer wouldn't see. Peter shook his head minutely. Stiles' shoulders relaxed. They couldn't see or hear anything, the show was only for him. He could deal with that, it wasn't like he didn't have to deal with them every damn day. He nodded and Peter was gone from his side immediately.

Stiles focused his magic on the veins and shoved them where he wanted them to go. He saw Jennifer's disbelief as the dark ooze started to drip from his lips. He didn't care how gross it was, he needed it out of his body.

"What are you?" She breathed as the ooze seeped into his shirt as more and more left his mouth.

Stiles chuckled darkly and spat a glob of goo onto the ground, "I'm a dead man walkin'." The truth of the statement confused her.

"Are we done with your little show?" He asked as he turned away from her to pick up his knife he had dropped.

He heard her hiss in anger at his dismissal and felt the build up of magic before it happened, but something was weird, the trajectory was off. She sent a flying ball of fire toward the spectators on the porch. Toward his pack.

Stiles twisted around and desperately grabbed the fire with his own magic to squash it out.

The outraged roars of his new pack we're almost drowned out by his own scream of fury and he rushed her. He fought to hide his void as it begged to be released. Glimpses, just glimpses, he reminded himself.

This time they were fighting to kill. The sounds of their combat filled the clearing. They were blurs of magic. Each blow he landed didn't feel like enough. She finally got her legs into his stomach to shove them away from each other.

They stood back up, breathing heavily to gauge the other. Her face was bruised and bloody. His lip was busted and had claw marks along his neck. The porch was quiet.

Then suddenly the sound of her bones breaking and reshaping filled the clearing. In her place was an 8 foot spitting Cobra. Stiles narrowed his eyes at her but then allowed his own magical shape to form in his mind.

He was already snarling threateningly even before he finished forming. In his place now stood a large fox, the size of a regular wolf, whose coat was a mixture of burnt orange and coal black.

He charged, dodging her spat venom to the best of his ability, but some splashed up against his body, sizzling the fur away.

He leapt when he was close enough but missed as she had been expecting it.

In circles they went. He dodged the venom and fangs as he ran, waiting for an opening.

Finally she moved her head just a little too far to the right and he pounced. Biting into her throat savagely.

She thrashed, trying to throw him off, but he locked his jaw and waited. Her form slowly started to turn back into a woman's.

He changed back and seamlessly summoned clothes to his body to cover himself. He roughly flipped her onto her back and pushed down on her throat.

“Submit.” He growled into her face as she struggled to breathe. Blood pooling under her.

“Talia!” Kali’s panicked voice rang across the clearing.

“You and your emissary wanted this fight. I will not interfere. She is lucky that she will not get a death sentence for her attack earlier. Do not push me Kali.”

Hearing she had no support Jennifer went limp and wheezed her acceptance.

Stiles ignored the voice telling him to end it anyway and got up, meeting her enraged glare as he stood over her breathing heavily. She was embarrassed and angry. One more dismissal and Stiles knew she'd completely tumble over the edge.

He backed away from her, then turned to casually walk back to his cheering students. He smiled brightly, but then he felt it. The buildup of magic again. He slowed and was preparing to turn back to the fallen witch, but there was a shout and a force hit him from behind. Stiles’ face met the ground hard. He heard a pained yell from the mass now on top of him.

It took his mind another second to realize what happened. Jennifer had tried to hit him while his back was turned. Someone had knocked him out of the way. Derek had knocked him out of the way.

Derek!

“Fuck, fuck,” he repeated and he scrambled around to take a shaking Derek in his arms, ignoring the pain from earlier, “No, no, Derek?”

He heard outraged roars and yelling, but he was frantically running his hands over the injured man. From what he could see she had used lightning. There was now a gaping hole in Derek’s shoulder- bigger than Stiles’ fist.
Stiles watched in horror as the edges of the wound pulsed as the magic tried to eat away more tissue, only to meet the werewolf's healing power trying to heal him. The two locked in a painful stalemate. Stiles felt heavy dread fill his stomach as he brought Derek’s face to settle against his shoulder.

“You stupid idiot.” he stammared as he tried to pushed his magic into the man’s shoulder. Derek was panting in pain, but he buried his face deeper into Stiles’ neck, whimpering.

Claudia and Deaton were suddenly there talking to him, but Stiles ignored them while he continued to focus magic into the wound, completely enveloped in his task.

His mother placed a hand on his shoulder and he felt more power rushing into him, to help him fight against the feeding electricity. Deaton shoved something down Derek’s throat and Stiles breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the magic in the wound weaken. Stiles pushed against the magic, forming it into what he wanted it to do. A sparking black sphere formed and Stiles carefully moved it out of the wound, only to send the lighting back into the sky, causing a deafening crash as dark clouds formed.

Derek stopped whimpering, but he curled into Stiles’ Chest, still shaking from pain as his body started to heal. Stiles was breathing deeply and he held Derek that much tighter, to remind himself that Derek was still there. Derek was going to be okay. Relief flooded his veins as his panic started to recied. Stiles felt Derek grip his shirt tightly and settled more into Stiles’ lap. Derek is alive. Derek is alive.

Claudia ran a hand through Stiles’ hair and Deaton asked softly if he was okay.

“Just tired.” Stiles’ voice came out raspy and cracked. He didn't want to admit that just holding Derek the way he was caused nauseating pain. The poison had injured him more than he had let on, his arm and neck still bled from the open wounds on his skin, and his lip throbbed, though the blood had stopped.

They didn't look convinced, but Deaton nodded, “What you did took a lot of magic and right after the fight you had- I’d say you're about to go through core exhaustion. Claudia and I will get some water, food, and pain pills for you both. You are going to need it.”

Stiles nodded, but as soon as they were gone he pushed a little more energy into Derek’s wound to help the healing process. His hand was knocked away weakly by Derek, “No, Deaton said-”

“Shut up.” Stiles growled into Derek’s hair, “You do not get a say. People who stupidly throw- we had a plan you stupid, reckless, comple-,” Stiles’ voice broke, “just,” he started again in a broken whisper, “please let me help. I can’t lose you.”

Derek ran his nose along Stiles’ jaw, and while Stiles knew Derek was scent marking, he still had to fight closing his eyes at the sensation.

Stiles' brain supplied the other night's rejection, Stiles couldn't understand. Why? Why did Derek push him away? His brain answered immediately, Derek was scared.

Stiles felt stupid, Derek might be in a better place than the one from his world, but Stiles should’ve recognize a scared Derek. Derek was scared, why?

He pushed his thoughts from his mind, Derek's health mattered more than his realization.

“You already helped. You got the magic out of me. I’m going to be okay.” Derek’s soft voice calmed Stiles a little, but neither moved to get up or loosen their hold on the other.

They sat like that for a while, relaxing into the other’s embrace. As Derek’s shaking stopped, Stiles’ shaking started.

“Stiles?” Derek tried to move back to look up at him, but Stiles just held him tighter to keep him close.

“I’m okay.” Stiles whispered.

“Derek?” Talia’s concerned voice had them both looking over at the woman striding forward, the rest of the Hale family right behind her.

“I’m okay.” Derek grimaced as Cora helped him up and into his Alpha’s arms. Nick clapped Stiles on the shoulder in gratitude after helping him up and Stiles watched as the family helped Derek back to the house. All gathered around, as worried and hurried questions whirled around like a hurricane.

Stiles smiled softly, Derek was safe and surrounded by his family- as he should be. He went to walk towards the house himself, but his legs gave out on his first step. He prepared to hit the floor but strong calloused hands reached out to catch him from his side.

Stiles weakly looked up into the concerned eyes of his dad. His dad who was here- alive. A soft shudder broke from his lips as he held onto the older man's shoulders as if he would fade away.

Dad's alive. Mom’s alive. Scott’s alive. Melissa’s alive.

Stiles may have been in this new dimension for a while, but it would still randomly hit him in the face like a 2x4 and he felt like he was drowning every time. He caught himself sometimes staring at the faces he thought he would never see again, other times he found it was hard seeing them at all. His mother, Scott and Melissa, Peter, Derek- Derek. So many times Stiles wished his Derek could have remained like this. The worst was his dad.

At the moment his dad’s eyes were filled with the same awe, at seeing his son, who he lost. Both men's hearts gripped with the impossibility of it and yet overcome with relief that it was true. Stiles surged forward to wrap his arms around the older sheriff.

“You’re really here.” Stiles’ voice was muffled against Noah’s neck but he knew they were heard when he felt his dad’s hands, shaking as they were, hold him tighter.
“Yeah,” he dad’s voice was strained and raw, “I’m really here and I always will be.”

His dad helped him into the Hale house, having to support Stiles’ weight more and more as they neared.

Deaton had been right, Stiles could feel his body shutting down. Desperate for a chance to focus on his critically low spark.

He was led to a bedroom he hadn't seen up to that point, "A spare for pack members." His father explained softly as he helped Stiles into the bed. Stiles didn't ask why if they had this then why did he have to bunk with Derek. He suspected that was Peter's doing. Neverending meddling in any universe.

"Jennifer?" Stiles asked, his voice no more than a wheeze.

"She is to be put to death. She attacked our pack twice. It wasn’t hard to get a unanimous vote for her termination" Another voice spoke up behind Noah. A voice that made him smile sleepily, "Hey, stupidwolf."

Derek huffed in annoyance, but there was no heat to it.

"Claudia needs you to go over some things for tomorrow."

Noah nodded, but looked down at his son in worry.

"I'll stay with him. I need to sit down anyway." Derek spoke helpfully.

Noah nodded and gripped Derek's uninjured shoulder in thanks before moving out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

It wasn't until it was closed that Stiles realized how much noise was actually coming from the house. Hurried whispers, angry shouting, growls rolling around the room, and shuffling feet. It all fell to a distant hum when the door clicked shut.

"Why aren't you laying down?" Stiles grumbled up at Derek as he slowly walked closer.

"Because an idiot Spark overdid it on the healing spells."

Stiles rolled his eyes at the growl in Derek's voice, "Only you would be angry at being healed."

"If it comes at the cost of your health? Always."

It was Stiles' turn to growl, "And what about your health? Jumping in front of dark spells!"

Derek smirked a little, "Okay, we're both idiots, better?"

"No." Stiles grumbled out, feeling like a child for the first time in a very long time.

Derek chuckled at Stiles' stubborn set to his face. He moved around to make it darker in the room and sat down beside Stiles on the other side of the bed, resting his back against the headboard.

"I am not going anywhere. Sleep." He softly commanded, but Stiles was already drifting. Letting Derek's scent wrap around him.

Stiles was in and out, but that scent was always there. Forest and leather.

If he rolled onto his side and snuggled into the smell, Derek never said anything. Just like Stiles will never tell he felt Derek's hand comfortingly combing through his hair.
When he woke again it was to Derek telling him Kali herself ripped Jennifer's head from her body. Kali didn't want a war with the Hales and she didn't seem too broken up about it.

Stiles went back to his home that night. Jennifer is dead and Kali is only here for two more days. There was no need to protect his home anymore.

Stiles sat for too long, thinking about everything. It lightened his shoulders knowing she was dead in this universe as well. The alpha pack seemed to not be a thing with the entire might of the Hale pack still intact to discourage power hungry maniacs.

Talia hadn't once mentioned the Argents or any of the other baddies off his list. Stiles actually smiled. Could he actually build something here? Something he hadn't allowed himself to really try to go for.

His thoughts turned to Derek and his realization. He also realized he had given no signal that he wanted Derek beyond getting hard against him. Stiles needed to fix that. Derek was alive. Stiles wanted to try. Derek was his mate, his soul begged for peace and Stiles’ mind agreed.

Derek had come to him, put in months of running around the forest to find him, now Stiles felt it was his turn to return the favor. So, he casually slipped something to Issac and Scott after practice one day and didn't even need to wait a full minute before they gave him what he so desperately wanted. An opening.

Stiles walked until he saw the name ‘Mr. Hale’ on a door and leaned in. The room was set up so that he was actually at the back of the classroom.

Derek was there in tight dress pants with an olive green button down tucked neatly into place at his waist. His sleeves rolled to his elbows showing his beautiful forearms, his muscles hugged by the soft looking fabric. The top two buttons left open so just a hint of his chest hair peeked out.

He was standing bent over behind his desk as he flipped through a large text book, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. A pencil tucked behind his ear and highlighter held between his lips. He looked positively edible.

Stiles leaned on the door frame with his arms crossed, “Oh, this picture right here is enough to fuel several fantasies for at least a few months.”

Derek whipped his head up and as he took in Stiles in a red t-shirt, white converse, and leather jacket. His eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing here?” Derek asked as he set the highlighter down onto the now forgotten textbook.

Stiles ignored him as he sauntered into the room, hands trailing across the desks, “How do these poor hormone filled teenagers even learn anything with you looking like that?”

Derek raised his eyebrows as he waited for Stiles to answer his question.

Stiles huffed, “Issac, Boyd, and Scott want me to come toss around the ball on the lacrosse field.”

“What?”

“Uh, yeah- I used to play lacrosse in high school. I told them I’d come to their next game, but they wanted my help with some exercises.”

Derek fidgetted as Stiles kept making his way towards his desk, “The lacrosse field is out back and I have a tutoring group coming in soon.”

Stiles smirked at how nervous Derek appeared to be and of course Stiles had to make the most of it.

“Trying to get rid of me?”

Derek huffed smirking, “As a member of staff it does fall upon me to be on the lookout for any nefarious characters.”

Stiles laughed lightly as he sat down on Derek’s desk, his leg brushing Derek’s hip, bringing the text book into his lap, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Derek yanked the text book back, now standing in Stiles’ personal space, “The lacrosse field is that way.” he murmured, gesturing out of his classroom.

Stiles pouted, but preened inwardly as Derek’s eyes glanced down at his lips.

There was a ruckus as three excited looking girls stumbled in, only to freeze when they saw Stiles.

“Mr. Hale?” one of the girls questioned.

Stiles’ smile grew with amusement, looking like that cat that caught the canary. This is why he was being shoved out of the room.

Derek huffed exasperatedly, but smiled softly at the young girl, “I’ll be ready in one second Emily, would you mind closing the door and waiting in the hallway while I finish talking to Mr. Stilinski here?”

Once the door shut Derek fixed him with a hard look, “Shut up.”

Stiles snickered, “Oh, yeah! Those girls are definitely here to learn about the revolutionary war!”

Derek huffed again, “Stiles.”

“Yes, Mr.Hale?” Stiles bit his lip as Derek’s hand twitched.

“Lacrosse field.” he commanded thickly.

“Fine,” Stiles rolled his eyes playfully, “I don’t see why they get to build on their ‘Please don’t give me detention, Mr. Hale’ fantasies for the next hour while you innocently talk about how nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition and I can’t, but that is life.” Stiles slid off the desk with a put upon sigh.

As he sauntered back down the row of desks, he called over his shoulder, “I’m making handmade pizza tonight, bring the beer, oh and the bitable jaw line.”

Flinging the door open he was face to face with now five very excited and curious cheerleaders. He laughed loudly as he gestured widely to the classroom, “He’s all yours ladies!”

They giggled at him as they filed into the classroom. He sent an exaggerated wink to Derek as the man let out a tired sigh and pinched the ridge of his nose. Stiles laughed loudly all the way down the hallway towards the field.

He slid his jacket off once he reached the bleachers and jogged onto the field as his fellow pack mates slapped his back and yelled out their greeting. Lydia, Erica, Cora, and Kira made themselves comfortable on the bleachers and Jackson paused on his way back to the parking lot to come back demanding to be a part of the extra practice.

They ran through a few exercises and Stiles fixed a few stances and showed a few tricks he learned over the years. He may not have been the best in his dimension, but he had experience over the 10th grade versions of his friends.

Stiles let them scrimmage it out and clapped when Jackson’s team got to 15 goals first.

“Come on old man!” Issac called challengingly, “You’re arthritis acting up? That why you aren’t playing with us?”

“Oh?” Stiles scoffed, smiling from ear to ear, “It’s going to be like that?”

“Let’s pulverize 'em.” Scott smirked over at him.

Stiles smirked and easily caught the stick Erica tossed him. Twirling it lethally.

“How about this, you get Boyd, you and princess back there are going to need all the help you can get now that me and my brother are on your asses!”

Stiles didn’t catch his slip of calling Scott his brother, as if he was the other Scott- his Scott, but everyone else did and Scott stood a little straighter, even while sending Stiles an unseen sad, soft smile.

Thankfully Jackson just huffed at being called ‘Princess’ and Issac didn’t miss a beat, “Oh! Well thank you so much, ancient one! We can say first to five, instead of fifteen, I know you have that early bird special to get to.”

Stiles laughed loudly as they all lined up and began.

Stiles scored first and dodged Jackson’s retaliation tackle with ease, both laughing loudly as they made their way back to starting positions.

They heard loud cheering by the bleachers, causing them all to turn. “What the fuck.” Boyd muttered.

There stood Lydia, Kira, Erica, Cora, and the cheerleaders from earlier, and standing behind them higher on the bleachers was a casually leaning Derek Hale.

The kids were screaming at the goal and Derek had the most delicious proud smirk that had Stiles wanting to purr. He paused at that thought. “What the fuck.” he softly repeated Boyd’s sentiment, but for totally differnt reasons. A rush of excitement ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the exercise.

“Come on,” Stiles said to the open mouthed teenagers, “Let’s give 'em a real show. Get you losers some dates or at least some hallway cred.”

They all laughed as they went about tossing the ball artifully in the mini scrimmage. Both makeshift teams they had split into working their hardest to win. The hits were coming faster and harder as they battled it out. Stiles ran and chest bumped Scott when Scott scored their fourth goal to tie it up. They just needed one more.

Scott won the toss off and Stiles had to dodge a full body check from Jackson, but he then jumped and caught Scott’s toss easily. He ran towards Issac and with a fake right and break left another score was won.

Issac ran up and jumped onto his back yelling happily. More cheers broke out and Stiles did a victory lap with Issac still wrapped around his back yelling arms wide. All the boys had shining eyes and were laughing loudly, giddy from adrenaline.

Issac slid off of him as Boyd came running up, Stiles meeting him for a chest bump that had him flying back, only to be caught by a laughing Scott. Jackson was smiling brightly as he said, “Next time you won’t be so lucky!”

The field was becoming crowded as the spectators came down off the bleachers. The young athletes didn’t know how to handle older cheerleaders talking to them and their female packmates made fun of them for it, not trying to lower their voices in the slightest.

Stiles was smiling widely at the awkward flirting as fond memories came flooding back from his own high school days.

“Congrats.” a soft proud voice spoke beside him as his leather jacket came into his view.

“Thank You, Mr. Hale.” Stiles smirked as he took the jacket.

He slid it on and easily called over his shoulder as he turned to the parking lot, “Remember, I’m expecting beer when you show up.”

Chapter Text

Stiles jerked awake as a ringing reverberated off his cave walls. He groaned in frustration. Jennifer had only been a couple weeks ago and if the emergency cell phone Peter insisted on getting him was ringing at, he looked at his clock, 3 in the morning it wasn’t good.

He grimaced as he sat up in his mess of sleeping bags to answer the annoying sound.

“What?” Stiles answered grumpily.

Stiles hissed as he held the phone away from his ear as the terrified yelling of Issac surrounded him. He couldn’t make out a lot, but he heard the word Hales and the word taken.

Stiles had to fight the urge to jump up and run out, but he needed to be calm. Issac needed to feel like the situation was already under control and it wouldn't help the Hales if he panicked.

“Issac, calm down. Talia showed you how to activate the den’s security system, right?”

At Issac’s tearful confirmation Stiles instructed him to turn it on and not move until Stiles got there.

Stiles fumbled to put on his cargo pants and a red Henley, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows. His combat boots laced up neatly then his ankle and shoulder holsters, his knife and gun strapped in place.

His knuckles in his back pocket and miscellaneous battle options were loaded into his pockets. Mountain Ash, poison to add to his knife, extra ammo to name a few.

This was familiar. This was easy to do in a state of almost mind numbing panic. His list of things to get battle ready so memorized he didn't even have to think about what went in each pocket.

He focused on his movements, trying not to think about what could be happening to them, instead only thinking of what the idiot who took them could have and how he would counter it.

When he arrived Issac barely waited for Stiles to finish his greeting before he was allowing Stiles into the Den.

“Issac, how many times do I have to tell you to check a person's identity when on alert, no matter how much you trust them. People can use magic to transform themselves.”

Issac ignored him as he continued on into the house, it was then Stiles saw the terrified and tear streaked face of Cora Hale. Stiles' eyes narrowed and Cora fidgetted uneasily under his gaze.

All the Hales are gone, all but Cora, why? The youngest left as a warning? A calling card?

No, Stiles thought confidently, Cora was old enough and lethal enough to be considered a threat, plus she would make another hostage to keep the other Hales in line. The family's love for each other, used against them.

His eyes went back to Issac as another possibility entered his mind, noting that both teens had leaf litter on their clothes.

Stiles hummed deeply as he sat his bat on the kitchen table, “How long have you been seeing each other?”

Both teens fidgeted, but Stiles didn’t seem mad so Cora answered him softly, “A few weeks. I’ll sneak out and meet him in the preserve. Unless he's here then I sneak into his room.”

Stiles nodded as the puzzle piece fell into place, “That’s why the kidnappers didn’t get you, you were with Issac in the preserve.”

Cora nodded, not looking up from her hands at the same time Issac begged, “Please don’t tell Talia.”

“I’m not here for that,” Stiles soothed, “right now I need to figure out what happened to your family.”

He made sure to look at Issac as well when he said this, to include him in the Hale family. He was part of the family and Stiles wouldn't let him forget it.

Stiles was one hundred percent sure Talia would be over the moon to hear that her daughter was dating someone in the pack, especially Issac. So, why the secrecy? Cora was blunt and upfront about everything she did, so it wasn't her. She was keeping it a secret, because Issac wanted it that way.

Issac still felt unworthy, Stiles almost grimaced as a bad taste settled in his mouth from that. Stiles would have to work on that, but right now there was work to be done.

Stiles and Issac went from room to room investigating. Cora said she couldn't look again and stayed in the living room.

Stiles had to look away from the signs of a struggle in Derek’s room. He could feel Issac’s eyes following his every move so he made sure to keep calm. In both his face and his scent.

Derek is strong. Derek is a fighter. He'll be fine.

His troubled eyes saw the droplets of blood on Derek's sheets and he knew he looked a little too long.

Derek is strong. Derek is a fighter. He'll be fine.

He'll be fine.

Issac picked up a scent easily as there had been more than one attacker, more likely eight or nine. After getting both werewolves armored up and made sure they each had a main and backup weapon they set out.

“This trail is too easy to follow.” Stiles growled softly.

“Trap?” Cora whispered anxiously.

“Could be,” Stiles answered truthfully, “so I need you both to mask your scents and it’s stealth from this point on. You do as I say immediately and follow where I lead, clear?”

Both teenagers nodded, looking to him to start up again. It was only about 10 more miles when a giant big top circus tent appeared in a large clearing, but they were miles away from any form of civilization.

“I’m going to go scout it out, you both wait here. If I am not back in 15 minutes you run back to the Den and contact the rest of the pack. Bring people here. Do not try to come after me, no matter what you may hear.”

Issac’s hand shot out to grip Stiles' forearm painfully in his panic. They both stared at one another. Both scared, both wishing so many things in that moment.

“See you soon.” Stiles whispered confidently to the two faces in the dark.

Stiles stealthily managed to work his way around and into the tent rafters.

When his hand brushed the fabric of the tent it sang out to him. The magic embedded in it did at least. It sang out a sad tune, Its caster long killed by the people around him.

It begged him for vengeance. It was meant to protect the building and those inside, but it felt he would understand. That he would forgive its Betrayal.

He pushed some magic into the tent as a soothing confirmation that they would die. The magic sang out to him in relief with a single hum before it relaxed and started to wait.

Stiles looked around the giant enclosure and took notice of weapons, numbers, exits.

Only four lookouts outside and about 20 more inside. Stiles couldn’t tell who was the leader, but he immediately recognized what the people had in common. Experiments, all of them. Twisted and a combination of different creatures, all looking for more power. He frowned, he knew what these assholes were.

He saw the Hales hurt and tied up while they glared at the people surrounding them. He felt relief flood through his body, at least they were still alive and well enough to be angry.

Stiles knew how to deal with these arrogant fanatical, albeit smart, so-called doctors. Be dismissive, be intriguing, and distract them with theatrics. Easy.

Stiles made his way back to his waiting students, “They are alive and I know how to get them back.”

Both werewolves sat up straighter and Stiles continued, “It’s good that it’s you both as you are two of the most sneaky and devious in fighting style. I am the distraction. I am going to keep all their eyes on me, so you two can cut your way into the tent and get your family out. They are injured, so I am going to say this once and only once, you are to get them back to the den and call Deaton and my mom to come do first aid. Do not wait for me. I will meet you back at the Den. Am I clear?”

Neither wolf seemed like they wanted to agree, but one hard look from Stiles and they nodded reluctantly.

Drama, theatrics, intrigue he repeated as he slunk through the tall grass around the tent. He would give them a horror show he thought as a slow predatory smile spread across his pale face.

He slinked through the overgrown field, his eyes darting around alert as he made his way to two hulking figures.

He pictured himself a panther, eyes intent, stopping and starting to test the waters, invisible to his prey. His muscles tensed and then he flung himself at the two men before either knew what was going on.

As he killed the first group of look outs he released a magical symphony of sounds, a mixture of a hyena laugh and cougar growl. He heard all the sound from the tent cut off.

He slunk into the grass again, watching the growing panic in the now twitchy second group of guards, his void surged with happiness. Stiles allowed his eyes to go black, to indulge his darkness.

He dispatched them slower, giving them time to scream before he cut them short only to be replaced by his haunting sounds.

He felt like a wendigo and his darkness hummed happily at that description.

He ran around the tent making more of those noises, getting them all on edge. A giant signal to not fuck with the Hale pack. A signal that none of them were going to be left breathing. He sent his magic into the sky and the once quiet night suddenly was lit up by lighting.

He timed his entrance just right, kicking the fortified metal door right as lighting streaked across the sky behind him.

He walked in with a casual lethal gait. He looked around, his face conveying nothing but boredom.

Had already masked his scent, but more than ever he was glad he knew this skill as his smell would give away to overwhelming panic and anger surging through him.

His eyes found the Hales, all of them staring with wide eyes.

“I’d advise you to release the Hales into my care.” His voice was calm, but sharp.

A girl leaning back in a chair off to his left scoffed loudly. He didn’t even blink as he summoned her chair to him, causing her to fall onto her ass.

He sat down ignoring her hiss as she jumped back to her feet. She frantically looked around to see if anyone was going to jump to her defense. The other experiments didn't even turn to look at her.

She made a move to stomp towards him, looking for a fear reaction from him. When he didn't raise to the bait she snarled, claws already out to attack.

Stiles didn’t look up, brushing off invisible dirt from his clothes, as he sent his magic her way. With a loud groan she flew back against the tent’s fabric. As soon as she touched the cloth the threads snaked out to stab into her skin, working their way to attach to her muscles and slowly start to pull them apart. Her screams were shrill as she struggled to get away from the animated strings, but with a sudden jerk she fell silent as her body fell limp, still attached to the side of the tent.

“Who is in charge here?” Stiles settled into the chair, looking around at the faces gathered expectantly.

A tall older man with puffy bags under his eyes stepped forward, “I am Doct-”

“Yeah I am already bored with you, I want someone more fun. Where’s Theo Raeken?” Stiles cut the, now offended looking, man off as Stiles stretched his neck this way and that to look for the young man.

“Theo,” the Doctor pursed his lips, “didn’t pass his test. He was unworthy.”

Stiles smiled in pleasant surprise, “So his sister is still alive then?”

The Doctor looked flabbergasted and opened his mouth to speak, but Stiles cut the man off again, “So I’m stuck with you, huh?”

The Doctor’s nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed, “You think you are indestructible, but I know you Stiles, the new spark of the Hale pack. I mean we are here for you after all. None of the Hale's were on our radar until you showed up. You should feel honored. We want you to join us, taking our pack to the next level. I can enhance your power. It would be so easy to get you to say yes. We offer a trade, you join our pack and the Hales go free.”

“I know how you would enhance me, change my DNA, change my brain, no thank you. Besides that, you don’t know me. You have no idea what you'd be taking on.”

The Doctor’s eyes shone with entitled excitement, he was truly engrossed in Stiles, his followers watching the interaction with rapt anticipation. They were doing exactly what Stiles needed them to do.

“Oh, but I do Stiles. You feel like your poison. That your presence is the black mark on your loved ones life. You're a smart guy, surely you realize that the attacks have increased since you joined the pack. Everyone wants to test, kill, or steal the powerful spark away from the Hales. You wake up in a cold sweat with images of them dead around you like your old pack. Always the last Man standing, aye? You feel torn because part of you screams for rest, for death, and yet you want to hold onto this new found family with all your might. Never truly fitting into your old life or this new one. Such is the way of us freaks. Oh, I know you Stiles, because you're me.”

“Gross.” was all stiles said, infuriating the thin man.

“You are ignorant of what true power is! I will try to be gentle as I remake you into something beyond your comprehension. We'll have to break you of course, can't be helped. Can't have all that sass can we? But don't worry, you will be one of my greatest masterpieces.”

“You think you're original? Dr. Frankinstien ring a bell? Even that crazy bitch who climbed into a hollowed out cow to be dicked by a bull to create the minotaur. It’s only stupid people like you that forget the endings to these type of stories. The blaring warning to not do those things."

"You dare to question what is before you? These are MY creations!" The Doctor spread his arms wide to show the people around him.

"It is ALIVE!" Stiles yelled back sarcastically in his best mad scientist voice.

Stiles saw the soft flutter of the tent fabric in his peripheral vision, the Hales were safe.

The doctor opened his mouth to answer, his eyes slits, but Stiles slapped his knees loudly before standing up.

“You’ve shown me what you believe is power,” Stiles' voice lethal steel, “Now it’s my turn.”

He saw a few fidget, but none caught onto what was about to happen. Idiots.

Flashes of magic and screams filled the tent. One by one each person was ripped to pieces.

Stiles stood panting in the middle of the bloody mess, his clothes and face splattered with it. He would leave no survivors. No one to come after his pack. His new pack.

He didn’t bother to clean up the bodies, any curious people coming to see if they had been successful would find all of them where they'd fallen. They would know to leave the Hale pack alone. To leave Stiles alone.

Before leaving he set up an invisible magical alarm. If someone came looking they’d have to know the Doctors’ plans and they themselves were a threat. He’d track them down and kill them.
No survivors. No more threats.

No survivors.

No survivors.

He slowly came up the steps of the Hale den, his entire body protesting every move he made with shooting pain. His head was pounding. His darkness was satisfied and relaxed, but Stiles was left with the piercing screams still running through his mind and images of his hands breaking bones.

As he slowly opened the door he heard a relieved gasp and then he was in his mother's arms.

He tensed, as he realized what he looked like. His red Henley now had dots of darker stains covering the majority of it. His clothes had some tips in them, and his hair was matted to his head from his sweat. This wasn't to mention the flaky red dried blood tattooed on his skin. In a sick way he had turned out to be the doctor's last and final masterpiece, covered in the blood of his collection.

His mother pulled back and he felt hot shame at the horror on her face.

"Come, sit down here, quick." She ushered him to the closest available chair. Her hands fluttered about, trying to touch every part of him.

Claudia was frantic, thinking he was on death's doorstep again. He had to repeat that it wasn’t his blood a few times before her panic let her understand.

Or maybe wasn't her panic at all.

Maybe it was how he felt completely lost. Trying desperately to find solid ground. He felt sick with himself.

More screams bounced around in his head. Not just from tonight.

His mother's panic could be a reason why he wasn't coming across, but it wasn't the only one. He couldn't form the words he needed. Too many contradicting voices in his head.

Once she understood she pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his cheek softly, “I was so worried, Mischief.”

He couldn't understand. He didn't return her hug, he couldn't. He was an abomination. The doctor had been right that he was the black spot on his loved ones lives. She needed to run, but she pulled him closer. Was worried for him.

When she pulled back to look at his blood covered face it was to see his eyes wide in shock. His hands twitched. Claudia felt her heart ache for her brave strong boy.

"I-," Stiles started, but his voice broke, "I killed them. Every single one. I killed them. I killed them. I killed them."

His questioning desperate eyes bore into hers, looking for an answer that she didn't have.

"Listen to me," she spoke low to make sure he focused, "they had your family. Not only that but Talia said they wanted to take you away from us. From me."

Stiles was hanging on your every word.

She brought her hands to softly hold her son's face, because this was her son. This was her baby. Her heart broke for the things he had seen and done, but more for what he would continue to have to do.

"You are a protector. You are a survivor. If nothing else you remember those two things. You would not allow harm to come to your family, because you are good. Your brother told you this with his last breath. Your empathy and capacity to love amaze me every day I see you. I am not weary or ashamed to have you for a son. I love you. All of you."

She spoke with that soft passion that only mother's can achieve, though she had to stop to breathe and collect herself when a tear started to roll down Stiles' cheek.

He didn't seem to be aware of it and she knew he could close down if it was mentioned.

"So," she spoke a little stronger, "let me be clear, you come back to me, do you understand. I don't care what you have to do as long as you come back to me."

Stiles suddenly surged forward to hug her tightly. She let out a small surprised gasp, but hugged him with equal strength.

Stiles pulled away from her without being able to look at anyone. He realized it was deadly silent and he couldn't deal with it.

Stiles suddenly felt the weight of the night hit him. He almost collapsed right in the foyer, but instead walked slowly to the Hale's.

He quickly looked them over. Issac and Cora were being hugged by Talia and Nick on the couch. They all four stared at him. He nodded once and they each nodded back.

Cora had silent tears still running down her face and seemed like she wanted to say more, but couldn't bring herself to let go of her parents to turn to him. He understood.

Peter shuffled towards Stiles, his arm in a sling. At Stiles' concerned face Peter was quick to reassure him that he would heal fine.

Peter smirked at Stiles' piercing gaze, knowing the young spark was desperately trying to detect any falsehood in his statement.

Peter breathed Stiles' true name in affection as he scent marked Stiles' wrist, subtly detecting the pain Stiles was in.

Peter grimaced, but didn't comment on it, "I promise I will be fine. Now, promise me you will get some sleep."

Stiles nodded numbly, but Peter beamed at him before shuffling off to the stairs. Stiles thought about something, "Abigail and Elizabeth?" He spoke raspy.

Peter froze, one hand on the stairs railing, "At a friend's house tonight, Thank God."

Peter continued up the stairs not bothering to conceal how terrified he was when he knew how close his girls could've come to being there with them in that tent.

Stiles turned to see Laura sitting at the bar, her lip trembled when he looked at her. He walked to her and saw her hands fidget.

"You always take me to the weirdest parties."

His voice was wrong, but she still rewarded him with a watery giggle. He gave her a small smirk before kissing her temple.

He turned to the last person in the room, those eyes ripping him apart alive.

Stiles eyes though we're drawn to Derek's hands. Derek still had burns around his wrists where the ropes had held him.

Stiles felt it was weird that none of the others still had theirs.

Stiles' eyes narrowed as he made his way to the frozen man, his entire focus on the burns.

"Why aren't you healed?" Stiles' voice was gruff and short.

"He fought the hardest against the ropes." Supplied Laura, ignoring Derek's sharp look.

"StupidWolf," once again Stiles' voice was off, but no one called him on it, "you should've known I'd come for you."

"No," Laura spoke before Derek could, "you misunderstand. He started fighting that hard after you showed up."

Stiles sent Derek a questioning lost look, "Don't have faith in me?" Stiles' voice was barely above a whisper. He found he was genuinely hurt.

Before Derek could speak Talia spoke, "Come on Dear," she spoke to her husband as she stood collecting a still crying Cora in her arms, "I believe it is time for bed. Issac would you please watch over Cora tonight, I do believe she's going to need you. Laura, I have some of those bath oils and salts you like so much in the bathroom upstairs. Your nerves are still shot, I suggest a nice warm soak. Deaton, will you take Claudia home on your way?"

The man in question nodded at once as everyone else moved to follow their alpha's directions.

It was quiet for a long time, neither man had moved the entire time, but now it was just the two of them.

Stiles breathed harshly out of his nose as he gently took one of Derek's hands. He didn't want to think how just touching Derek's skin made his stomach jump, nor did he want to think how good Derek's hand felt in his.

Stiles led Derek to the bar stool Laura had vacated. As Derek sat down Stiles slowly let his hand drop as he looked around the room for what he was looking for. He swiftly moved across the room to grab the bandages and scissors he needed.

As he set out the bandages and a small tin of ointment from one of his many pockets Stiles could feel Derek's eyes watching him intently.

Stiles gently began applying the medicine he'd made himself to Derek's wrists. He knew it was painful, but Derek's hands only gave the smallest twitch.

"I", Derek's deep raspy voice made Stiles still in his work for a second, "couldn't handle seeing you literally surrounded by those people while there was absolutely nothing I could do."

Stiles said nothing as he went back to his work, Derek continued, "I knew you would be able to handle your own against them, but you could've been hurt. Not to mention you had to kill tonight Stiles. You had to kill another living creature to keep me safe. I hate that you have to do that."

"It's worth it." Stiles spoke with hard conviction, finally looking into those worried beautiful eyes.

"You are worth it." Stiles continued, just as fiercely, "I would kill again in a heartbeat if that means yours beats on. I will kill, because that means you don't have to. I can't- I can't see your eyes dim. I had never seen your eyes so light before I came here and I couldn't handle it if-if." Stiles couldn't continue anymore, so instead finished his task.

"Those should be gone by morning now.'' his voice was a tired rasp. Derek swallowed thickly, thanking him quietly.

The men stared at each other. Neither moving away from each other.

"You need to sleep." Stiles spoke into the space between them. Derek didn't say anything as he nodded.

Stiles brought up a hand to gently touch Derek's face. Derek closed his eyes as he leaned into the touch slightly.

Then stiles was pulling away and with a whispered goodnight he was out the door and on his way back to his cave.

It was only two hours before his spark tugged him into consciousness, someone was at the circus tent.

Ignoring his bone crushing exhaustion, he sprang out of bed, still in his combat clothes to investigate.

Chapter Text

When Stiles reached the clearing again he waited out of sight in the tree line. Nothing moved. The stench of death was already spreading out around the area, fanned by the tall blades of grass, warning of the horrors inside.

More echoes of screams.

The pounding in his head beat in rhythm with the tortured sounds.

After about an hour of waiting he ventured out, keeping low. He stopped suddenly and listened, nothing.

He ran the perimeter and found two sets of boot prints. They had already come and gone. Stiles cursed under his breath, but started to follow the tracks away from the clearing.

It led him to a highway he didn't recognize. He cursed again. He pulled out his cellphone and hit the number one on the speed dial.

Peter's extravagant sports car pulled over a few feet from him after about 40 minutes of waiting.

40 minutes of his brain providing every worst case scenario.

"You look like hell." Peter's worried voice had him looking up from where he sat in the tree line. His fidgeting hands resting on his knees.

Stiles ignored him, "Their tracks end here and it's a long shot, but do you smell anything?"

Peter decided to allow him his evasion and started to make his way along to the tracks.

"Gun oil." He spoke softly.

"Wolfsbane." He growled.

"Hunters." They spoke at the same time. Looking to the other in worry.

Hunters.

His mind flashed with images, each one bloodier than the last. Sometimes his family and friends blood, sometimes his own.

Stiles suddenly couldn't stand still. His skin itched with the need to check on his pack. He rushed forward to grab Peter's jacket, clenched tightly in his hands.

"Think," Stiles spoke desperately, his eyes wide and searching, "has there been anyone new in town? Anyone."

Peter softly gripped Stiles hands as he spoke, "No, Stiles."

Stiles relaxed slightly, "And no word on Kate Argent?"

Peter shook his head, "Come on, let's get you back home. You need to get some sleep."

Stiles let himself be led to the car without complaint. His mind worked overtime, trying to piece together what was going on.

These hunters had to be in league with the doctors or at least know their plans, but what hunter would do that?

The doctors create unnatural things, even in the supernatural world. Surely- no. Stiles' mind just kept going in circles.

Even after he made it back to his bed in his cave, surrounded by his handmade alarm system, he couldn't relax.

The only answer he could come up with was the hunters were going after bigger prey. Letting the smaller prey go to get to their real target. Let the two targets wear each other out, only to step in and take down the victor.

The Hales were the biggest pack on the West Coast. They certainly would be a bigger target than the fanatics, right?

Then the Doctor's voice echoed in his brain. They had come here for him. The doctor had said everyone wanted the new spark. It was him.

If what the Doctor said was true then it was his fault. He had put them in danger. His fault. His fault.

Stiles' throat clenched. What did the doctor know? Who was everyone?

The group of doctors had come in guns blazing, but what if someone was more sneaky. Watching.

If they found out who he was close to- Stiles jumped out of bed. He hopped in the shower quickly. It was mid-day so he couldn't do what he needed covered in blood and he was itchy from the dried blood anyhow.

Stiles started to run to town, he didn't want to backtrack to the Hale's property for Roscoe. He didn't have time. His mind focused on one thing.

His exhausted body protested and screamed for relief, but he used his void to embrace the pain and even though it was still satisfied from the previous night, it took his offer hungrily.

His first stop was the treeline behind his childhood home. He waited. His mom was sitting at the kitchen table working on something, muttering to herself. He checked the surrounding area, no tracks. No sign of someone doing a stakeout. No unfriendly magic.

Then again, he reminded himself, no one outside of the pack knew these were his parents. He'd worked hard to keep it that way. Keep them safe. Keep them alive.

Even with that line of thinking he still jogged in front of the Police station, being as discreet as he could he sent a single magical pulse. His dad was at his desk talking to someone. A new deputy his magic answered for him.

Stiles came to a sudden stop. A new deputy. New deputy. New.

He turned suddenly and made his way to the outside of the building where he knew his dad's office would be.

He quickly peeked in the window and came back breathing hard, but smiling.

Jordan Parrish had arrived it seemed. Stiles breathed easier.

He started running to his last destination, the school.

Derek was there, big smile on his face as he excitedly waltzed around the classroom, talking animatedly. His students laughed at whatever he was saying.

Stiles released his last remaining anxiety. He didn't sense any magic around the school, no unusual cars, no mention of Kate Argent.

They were living their lives.

They were living.

His eyes found Derek's face through the classroom window again. That rare full smile that Stiles so very rarely saw in his world, given so freely.

Tears sprung to his eyes in relief.

He rubbed his hands along his face as he breathed out a shaky, "Fuck."

By the time he made it back to his cave he collapsed face first into his nest of sleeping bags.

His dreams full of Derek, his Derek, yelling to not taint this one.

Stiles' eyes snapped open, he didn't know how long he'd been passed out, but the hairs on his neck were standing up.

He twisted, gun drawn, to growl at the person standing in his bedroom doorway.

Derek's eyes widened as he quickly held out placating hands, arms outstretched before him.

"Fucking Christ, Derek!" Stiles breathed heavily as he lowered the gun.

"Sorry," Derek spoke after a second and then dropped his hands back down when he realized they were still raised, "I called your name, but I guess you didn't hear me."

Stiles just grunted as he flopped back, rubbing his eyes to wake up, he really must have exhausted his core if his magic hadn't even woken him up when Derek passed his boundary, "Everything okay?" His voice was raspy and his head was still a little cloudy.

"Yeah," Derek was quick to reassure him, "um-," Stiles looked up at that small unsure sound, Derek was fidgeting with a duffle bag, not looking at Stiles.

Stiles sat up slowly in the bed, sliding his gun back under his pillow looking at Derek intently.

"Yeah, everything is fine." Derek's light voice didn't match his fidgeting and he still wouldn't look at Stiles. It made Stiles' gut roll, Stiles stood and walked over to him. Derek seemed more nervous.

"Laura found her mate." Derek spoke softly, "A new deputy."

Stiles smirked, "Ah, good ol' Parrish, huh?"

Derek's head sprung up to finally look at him, those eyebrows speaking for him.

Stiles nodded, "Hellhound, good guy."

Derek smiled in relief, "Good, good… that's- uh- that's good."

Stiles raised his own eyebrows in a silent question.

"Well, I just- I-" Derek trailed off making Stiles huff out a fond amused laugh.

"Use your words, Big Guy"

At Derek's sharp glance Stiles' smile grew into a full fledged amused grin.

"The house got a little nauseating… with the two of them. I… just needed air."

Stiles nodded, he smiled, even as his voice came out a little too tight, "You're always welcome here."

Stiles took the duffle from Derek's hand as he turned to set it on the bed, "I don't have actual sheets." Stiles supplied.

"Oh, that's okay, but I woke you up. You can go back to sleep."

Stiles shook his head as he shuffled past Derek to make his way to his living room.

Yawning, Stiles made his way to the kitchen to brew some coffee, Derek sat at the counter outside the kitchen, Stiles could hear the shuffling of papers.

When Stiles came back out with two mugs in hand Derek greeted him with a large grin.

Derek slowly pulled the cup away after his first tentative sip. He swallowed loudly as he sent a meaningful glance Stiles' way.

Stiles realized he hadn't asked how Derek liked his coffee, because he'd already known. Late night research and planning will reveal things like that and Stiles remembered his Derek's reaction when Stiles had brought him his coffee without asking for the first time.

He had taken that same tentative sip, but instead of the soft surprise he saw now, that Derek's eyebrows had furrowed. Stiles remembered wondering why him taking note of how Derek took his coffee should make the man look so guilty and sad.

Stiles' mind cleared as he realized they were simply staring at the other. The air thick, to the point of suffocation.

Stiles ignored the questions floating in Derek's eyes and instead went to grab some herbs from his workstation. He ground them together and added them to the homemade cream he had discovered years ago. All the while the sound of pen against paper filled his home.

He sat next to Derek, looking over to see he had pulled out quizzes to grade. It made Stiles smile slightly.

Stiles took the cream and began to rub it into his sore arm muscles. His hands twitched from the shooting pain each touch caused. He really had over done it the last few days. He looked up feeling Derek's eyes watching him.

"Are you okay?" Derek's voice was small, worried.

Stiles nodded with a reassuring smile on his face, "Yeah, I discovered that the void is great for boosting my abilities, but it's kind of like being high on PCP. I can ignore pain to the point of endangering my life. Of course I try not to let that happen, but it's very easy to overwork my muscles and spark when I go void. The cream helps relax the muscles then the herbs I added help them to heal and… helps block the flashbacks that come with letting the void out."

Derek's mouth thinned and his hands clenched. Stiles remembered Derek's words the other night, about feeling guilt for Stiles' actions, and he quickly changed the subject.

"Wars of the Roses, huh?" Stiles spoke, nodded to the quizzes currently under Derek's propped arms.

Derek looked like he had forgotten that they were even there, but he smiled, "Yes, very good. You know it?"

Stiles shrugged, "England, right?"

Derek nodded happily and began showing Stiles the quiz questions and explaining how he was grading. More often than not he would give the kid at least half a point if they remembered anything at all.

Stiles called him soft.

Derek burst out a surprised laugh, "Maybe," he allowed, " but wouldn't you want someone to recognize that you have information to provide, it might just not be the complete picture?"

Stiles pursed his lips, "Maybe."

Derek's deep chuckle had Stiles smiling. It made Stiles' chest feel lighter, reminded him why being in pain now meant nothing, to see Derek happy.

"Yup," Stiles spoke lightly, "definitely soft. SquishyWolf."

"Well, not all of us can be a rabble-rouser mountain man."

Stiles snorted, "You really need to stop with those Little House on The Prairie reruns."

Stiles stood, stretching as Derek smirked at him, "Where are you off to?"

"Got to go foraging, like any respectable mountain man should." Stiles winked before making his way out.

He smiled slyly as he heard Derek scramble to follow after him, grabbing the small basket by the door before Stiles could.

"I'll come with you, you still need to rest your muscles." Derek walked out the front of the cave, leaving a slightly amused Stiles to catch up to him.

"Wait," Stiles grinned at the nervous twitch in Derek's hand, "I think I've seen this one before. I'm on my way to grandma's house right?"

Derek rolled his eyes, "Really a Little Red Riding Hood joke?"

Stiles grinned as he shrugged, "Come on, Muscles."

The next night the pack was gathered to meet the new mate of the future Alpha of the Hale Pack.

Stiles quickly understood what Derek was talking about nauseating. Laura couldn't take her eyes off Parrish and Jordan seemed to have to be touching her constantly. Her hand, her arm, her shoulder… it didn't matter.

Derek and Stiles watched by the bottom of the stairs as everyone slowly moved around the room talking, enjoying the evening.

"I was going to charge you rent if you wanted to continue to stay at my place," Stiles murmured, leaning into Derek's space to ensure no one overheard, "but I see now that that would just be cruel. You are welcome to stay as long as you like "

Derek struggled to hold back his laughter, even as he turned more toward Stiles to glare at him playfully, "You were going to charge me rent?"

Stiles found himself turning as well, "I sure was, $150 a night."

Derek snorted, "That is highway robbery. Like you said, you don't even have sheets."

Derek clicked his tongue while shaking his head sarcastically.

Stiles tried to compose his face, "Oh, but the rustic feel is all part of the charm! Not to mention you get more than a room. You get my company! For legal purposes I am going to state here that this is not me soliciting you, but I do believe my company is worth $150."

Derek's cheeks tinged the most adorable shade of pink and he looked down into his drink, smirking, "Oh, no doubt. Easily more, I'm sure. I'll get you another drink."

He quickly grabbed the drink from Stiles' grasp and made a hasty exit to the kitchen. Stiles hadn't moved a muscle, too shocked to even think for a second.

"You know," a light voice behind Stiles almost made him jump, but he had come to love that voice, so instead turned to see Peter Hale leaning casually against the stair banister, "we always wondered why Derek never dated. He's young, smart, good looking, rich… but no one ever really turned his head."

Peter turned to look at Stiles then, a predatory look in his eyes, " Sure, there were flings. No one he ever let us meet, didn't mean enough."

He paused, waiting. Stiles met his eyes easily, he wasn't going to take the bait. If Peter wanted to get Stiles to show his hand then he'd have to try a lot harder than that.

Instead of looking annoyed or put out that Stiles wasn't rising to the challenge, Peter looked slightly proud.

"Well," Peter continued, Stiles would believe Peter was indifferent by his tone, but Stiles knew him too well, "I say that, but Derek did mention a woman the other day."

Stiles tried to control his reaction, but as Peter's lips twitched, Stiles knew he failed. Hell, he should've known he was transparent before the facial tell.

He had frozen and his hands balled into fists for just a split second, as a sharp breath left his nose harshly.

"Derek mentioned she walks out with him to the staff parking lot every afternoon."

Stiles hummed, trying not to let his anger overtake him.

Mine.

Stiles almost physically flinched as the strong thought entered his brain.

Stiles glanced at Peter in worry. He couldn't hide the smell of his anger, possessiveness, but mainly his shame.

That voice, his constant companion it seemed, replied with every single reason he wasn't worthy.

Peter was studying him with those piercing eyes, right now with a nonjudgmental understanding. Stiles stared back with desperate, questioning eyes. He didn't know what he was asking, but like always Peter seemed to know.

"You know, I once heard a young man tell a man that he deserved to be in a pack. That he was good."

Stiles' breath left him and his shoulders twitched as that day in the cemetery came back to him. Peter was talking about his other self.

"Now," Peter's voice broke through Stiles' mind, "I didn't know the man that needed that reminder, but I do know that young man. A brave and intelligent young man. If I could talk to him at this moment, I'd say he needed to remind himself of that as well. I'd say that one's own mind can be the most dangerous weapon against us. I would say that the man needed to allow himself to find the happiness he craves to see in his pack mate's lives."

Stiles' eyes went misty.

Peter looked away again, "I'm supposed to pick Derek up tomorrow, but wouldn't you know it, I totally forgot I have to go shopping then."

Stiles' shoulders relaxed as an easy smile spread across his face, his eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Shopping?"

"Oh yes," Peter stood up straight, "it's very important shopping."

Stiles' grin turned wolfish, a thrill going up his spine, "I wouldn't want you to miss out on an important errand like that."

Peter lifted his glass to smirking lips and he walked away, patting Derek on the shoulder as they passed when Derek came out of the kitchen.

Stiles just smiled in answer to Derek's confused look.

"Thank you." Stiles murmured as he accepted the offered drink.

Chapter Text

Stiles leaned against his Jeep casually. School had let out 30 minutes ago and Derek still hadn't come out.

He had been very particular about his outfit today. His hair messily fixed for that just fucked look. His mind supplied nice fantasies about how that look could be achieved naturally, Derek pinned between his arms against his jeep was currently his favorite.

He had on his boots and dark low rider jeans. His shirt hugged his body and his leather jacket was slung over the passenger side door, beside where he was standing, through the open window. His shirt didn't hide the many scars along his arms and a few peeked out around his collar. He looked like trouble, he smirked cockily, he looked good.

People stared when they saw him, he didn't care, he wasn't here for them.

Turns out he didn’t need to wait too much longer, he looked up as he heard the double doors open. Derek almost took his breath away, his deep blue shirt singing against his skin and the natural confident, lethal gait to his walk. Stiles’ eyes found the casual soft swing of Derek’s hips and it was almost impossible for his eyes to move away, but then he heard a loud laugh.

As promised a tall, slender, and annoyingly beautiful woman was walking beside his wolf. Her heels, much too high for a teacher in Stiles' very biased opinion right now. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she sent a flirty glance towards Derek.

Stiles bared his teeth, he didn’t need to be a fucking werewolf to know she was smelling of pure attraction. Stiles’ eyes narrowed in Derek’s direction. Stiles was sure the smell would be overwhelming, but there Derek was, walking and talking to her.

Stiles knew he couldn’t get mad, well he knew he shouldn’t, but he was never great at doing what he should do. He was going to make damn sure this bitch knew she had competition at least. Okay, he knew she most likely wasn’t a bitch, but it still made him feel better.

He was still studying Derek, trying to figure out if there was any attraction on his part, but Derek had always been good at shutting down his face when in public. Suddenly, Derek’s head turned toward him, probably catching Stiles’ scent.

Another thrill ran up Stiles’ body, he had purposely not blocked his scent. He wanted Derek to smell him and every emotion rolling off him.

Derek's eyes widened as he caught sight of him. Stiles rewarded him with a cocky smirk. Derek almost tripped when Stiles moved just right to show just the smallest peek of his bare skin.

"Derek!" Stiles called happily.

Both Derek and the woman had stopped as he confidently walked to the pair. The woman looking between Derek and Stiles in confusion, Stiles ignored her...for now.

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice came out a little raspy, Stiles knew his own affection and attraction were spreading out around them through his smell, “you’re picking me up?”

Stiles stopped a little too close to be normal as he smiled up at the wolf, who seemed to be taking deeper and deeper breaths, taking in as much of Stiles’ scent as his lungs would allow.

“You wanted to be picked up by Peter?” Stiles raised a playful eyebrow, but Derek seemed to be too overwhelmed to truly rise to the bait.

“No,” Derek’s small voice spoken with gentle blunt honesty made Stiles’ shoulders relax and a calm spread over his body. The kind of calm you only get when you truly feel safe. Tears almost sprung to his eyes, he felt safe. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt safe like this, but he shouldn’t be surprised. Derek was his home, his true home, always had been.

Derek’s nostrils flared and Stiles didn’t know what he smelled like exactly, but Derek smiled softly, his own body relaxing.

A scrape of a heel on the ground broke the warm bubble around Stiles and his eyes found the woman. He had completely forgotten about her, he wasn’t happy to remember. His body tensed up and that anger overtook him once more.

He turned toward her, placing himself a little in between her and Derek. He heard Derek shuffle uneasily, he knew his smell had gone from soft and passionate tones to hard and sharp in the blink of an eye. Stiles was sure it was a lot for Derek’s nose to process, it was a lot for him to process.

“Ah,” Stiles spoke with fake cheer, “I always wanted to meet some of Derek’s colleagues. Mieczysław,” he extended his hand, “nice to meet you. Mrs.-?”

The woman just stared open mouthed at him for a second before it seemed her mind caught up and after blinking rapidly a few times took Stiles’ hand, “Miss actually, Claire Olsen.”

“Huh,” Stiles said as they shook once before he let her hand drop, “haven’t heard of you before.” he said bluntly as he put his hands in his pockets to enjoy her obvious displeasure at his tone.

After a tense moment Derek spoke up from behind him, “Claire joined the faculty about seven months ago.”

“Welcome aboard.” Stiles said, not turning to look at Derek as he spoke, not moving a muscle or showing he meant his words- he didn’t.

“Thank you.” Her tone was clipped and a small smirk appeared on her face, “I haven’t heard of you as well. Are you family?”

Stiles actually smiled widely at this, she wanted to try to go head to head, that was fine. She was nothing and Stiles would politely remind her of the fact, if Derek wanted to step in to stop it he could.

“Oh you know Derek, he likes to keep his personal life from his business acquaintances.” Stiles was thrilled by not only her displeasure, but that his statement had hit a nerve. She had tried, it seemed, to get closer to Derek, but hadn’t been successful. Stiles should feel bad, but he really didn’t.

He continued, “But how silly of me for not properly introducing myself, no, no, I’m not a Hale or related to them, but at this point I’m pretty much family.”

Stiles watched with calm satisfaction as the fight went out of her, “Well,” she said slowly, “it was nice to meet you.”

She nodded to Derek before turning and making her way to her car. At least she bowed out gracefully. Stiles found he wasn’t annoyed at her.

Stiles turned to look into Derek’s apprehensive face.

“She seems nice.” Stiles broke the ice lightly.

Derek’s shoulders slumped a little, “This is what you and Peter were talking about, wasn’t it?”

Stiles just raised his eyebrows.

“I don’t have any feelings for her.” Derek shuffled.

Stiles just hummed as he took Derek’s bag from him to turn to walk back towards his jeep. Stiles had to smile when he heard Derek’s frustrated sigh and curse under his breath. Stiles let his face go back to neutral and he moved his jacket to open the passenger door for Derek to climb in.

Stiles placed his jacket and Derek’s bag in the back as he made his way to the driver’s seat. He didn’t look at Derek, who was currently staring at him, as he started the car.

It wasn’t until they were halfway to the house before Derek broke the silence, “Are you going to come to this full moon celebration?”

Stiles had opted to not be with the pack for the past full moons. The nervous energy of the wolves making his skin crawl and the memories of his fallen family tormented him throughout the night. So instead he was content to drink until he couldn’t think, until he couldn’t remember. He would always wake up to find his cave destroyed, the next day spent silently fixing it back.

He didn’t take anything for the pain of his hangover of any injuries he gave himself from the night before. His silent acceptance of his pounding head, stinging cuts, and sore bruises were his penance for his failures. Even as his void ached to take the pain he refused it and it’s painful tantrum became another layer to his punishment.

“Are you asking me to be there?” Stiles asked softly.

“Well,” Derek spoke too lightly as he stared out the window, “Peter usually stays with Abigail and Elizabeth, because they aren’t old enough to go on the run, I’m sure he’d be grateful for a stand in so he could go.”

Stiles’ heart dropped to his feet and his knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel.

“Okay.” his voice barely over a whisper.

The full moon was fast approaching, Stiles watched as the wolves around him became more and more restless.

Stiles’ own body tensed with anticipation, waiting for the monthly cycle of self destruction. He blocked his scent to make damn sure no one could sense his thoughts or mood.

His students were already rough housing a little too eagerly. Laura and Jordan had disappeared somewhere and Stiles did not want to think about what they were doing. Cora and Issac were cuddled up on the outside couch.

Stiles was sitting on the ground with Abigail and Elizabeth, making them laugh and squeal with small demonstrations of magic. A large Smile spread across his face as Elizabeth demanded another magical butterfly.

Everything fell silent and still as Talia came to stand in front of the treeline.

“It’s time.” She smiled, her elongating teeth catching the light from the porch.

All around Stiles the familiar sound of bones cracking and bodies morphing into something new.

Yips and playful barks broke out from the fully transformed wolves, Stiles hid his shock well, this was new.

A wolf padded up to him, where he was still seated on the ground, cream fur with flecks of black, but those blue eyes he could recognize anywhere, Peter.

“I got ‘em, boss. Have fun. Go catch a squirrel or something.”

The wolf butted Stiles’ head with his own and licked his neck lightly before turning to nuzzle the two giggling girls.

A large howl breached the night air and then in a flurry of motion the wolves started to run, disappearing into the treeline. The ghostly sound of large paws hitting the ground was the only indication that there was anything in the darkness.

“Uncle Derek?”

At Abigail’s questioning tone Stiles stood and turned. A giant pitch black wolf, except a pure white line of hair going down his chest was staring at them, no, him.

“Girls, Dad set out some snacks and a movie in the living room, go on in. I’ll be there in a second.”

The girls didn’t need to be told twice, the promise of junk food making their little legs run toward the house.

The wolf whined as he sniffed towards Stiles. Understanding hit him and he slowly took his scent block down. The large creature gulped large amounts of air, moving forward towards Stiles, almost subconsciously.

Stiles moved forward to meet him, kneeling before him. Derek sniffed Stiles’ neck and growled, licking over the spot Peter marked him.

Stiles reached out to run a hand through the long soft fur, “Go have fun, big guy. I’ll be right here waiting for you when the sun rises.”

Stiles felt Derek’s wolf nip at his hand, so gently that it didn’t even leave a red mark. With the lightest rustle the wolf turned and faded into the dark.

He patrolled the perimeter of the house before walking into the living room. The girls rushed to meet him and quickly brought him into helping build their fort. They giggled excitedly when he used his magic to help create a bouncing effect to the cushions, soon he watched in amusement as the two small wolves were literally bouncing off the walls of their makeshift structure.

A few hours later he had them showered and in their pajamas and living room fixed back. They were calmly cuddled on the couch watching a movie, when the sound of a window breaking from what sounded like the kitchen had all three of their heads turning.

Stiles heard more glass breaking, so he spoke, barely above a whisper, “Come on, follow me, don’t make a sound.”

The girls nodded even as fear shone from their eyes. He quickly led them upstairs, all the while he could hear the people searching, getting closer. Once he got to the library, he opened the door silently and made his way to the secret room Peter had shown him months ago, “Get in, quick.”

Abigail ran in, but Elizabeth grabbed his arm, “You aren’t coming in with us are you?”

Stiles’ heart clenched as he shook his head and as the panic began to be too much for the young girl Stiles pulled her into a hug, “I will be fine, but you need to stay here and don’t make a sound. You need to be brave for me, can you do that?”

Elizabeth had tears streaming down her face, but she nodded. Stiles cupped her small cheek as he gulped thickly, “Good girl, now go.”

Stiles closed the hidden door shut, breathing easier when he felt the protective magic flare to life. He squared his shoulders as he moved to the library door and listened, no movement on the other side of the door.

He moved out into the hallway and cursed his stupidity, he hadn’t brought his weapons. He was completely unarmed with unknown enemies coming for the children.

That was the only reason someone would attack on the full moon, because they knew most of the pack were out running. Only the weakest with maybe two bodyguards left at the den.

He could hear doors opening, the movie still playing in the living room. They knew people were here.

A single magical pulse is all he allowed. Eleven bodies. Fucking Eleven. Fear ran up his spine, but he’d discovered there were no creatures. That meant hunters. He could handle that.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He moved across to the class room and waited. The door slowly opened, the tip of a gun appeared first, followed by a gloved hand.

Stiles pounced, disarming and wrapping his arm tightly around the man’s throat, cutting off his yell. Stiles covered his mouth and nose to cover any noise as he slowly felt the man’s struggles lessen. The light sound of the hunter’s boots scraping along the carpet as he fought to breathe weren’t enough to cause alarm. Stiles continued to hold for a few more breaths after the man stopped moving all together to make damn sure he was dead, then slowly allowed the body to fall to the floor.

He picked up the pistol and peeked into the hallway. Three men were moving up the stairs now. As soon as the first one came fully around the corner Stiles shot him square in the chest.

Shouts sounded through the house. He needed them away from his kids. Decision made, he breathed out a long breath then his eyes turned black. He turned into the hallway and charged at the two remaining hunters, shooting the entire time. Another one fell to the ground.

He heard the click of the empty mag as his body ran into the armored figure at the end of the hall. He used his full void force to continue running, to push the body over the banister at the top of the stairs.

The sound of the wood of the railing breaking was followed by the clattering crash of the hunter's body landing on the living room coffee table, ending with the sickening thud of Stiles landing on top of the body and tumbling off to the side.

Stiles' breath left him from the impact and tears sprung to his eyes. He dragged himself behind the couch as shots rang out. Feathers from the cushions flew into the air as the bullets hit his temporary cover.

He tried to summon his spark to help take some out, but almost shouted out in pain when he was electrocuted for trying. It was then that he noticed he was bleeding. He’d been shot. Twice.

The bullets must be made to disrupt his magic and he felt poison enter his veins, it wouldn’t be lethal to him, it was meant for wolves. Covering all their bases apparently.

Now that he saw the blood on his arm and side the pain poured in. His void pounded in excitement. Now the problem was that he’d used all his bullets in the stolen hunter’s gun.

three down, eight to go.

He looked around and saw a large sliver of wood from the broken banister. He grabbed it and positioned himself.

He could hear them moving in, the one on the right sounded to be a little ahead of the other two moving. Stiles didn’t make a sound as he moved to the right end of the couch.

He saw the tip of a boot and then he sprung up and twisted the hunter around to hold the man in front of him, the body twitched and the man shouted out as Bullets peppered his body.

Stiles threw the man at the closest other hunter before jumping onto the other and stabbing the hunter in the neck, right where the bullet proof vest started. Stiles rolled away and ran for the kitchen. He slid behind the island, blood smearing across the floor.

He could hear the commotion of the hunters scrambling his way. He grunted as he quickly grabbed a large kitchen knife from the wooden holder on the counter.

He found his hand was throbbing as he tried to grip the knife handle, looking at his hand he realized he’d sliced it open on the uneven banister splinter when he killed the hunter.

He hissed as the pain rushed up his arm, he gritted his teeth and as he switched the knife to his other hand.

He tensed and then hurtled over the island to tackle the dark clothed figure, he brought the knife down wherever he could. When a pair of hands grabbed him to pull him off the hunter underneath him had blood seeping out all over the kitchen tile, Stiles twisted this way and that until the hunter holding him lost his grip, allowing Stiles to grab the man and shove his face down into the edge of the island countertop.

The man dropped with a groan and Stiles quickly ran as gunshots rang out, Screaming as white hot pain came from his shoulder.

His body hit the side of the hallway from the force of the impact of the bullet, his void flickered. It was becoming too much, but he made it to his destination, Peter’s office.

Six down, five to go. He locked the door behind him. Bodies hit the door, trying to get in. He could hear their taunts and their threats through the door. It made his hands shake.

He calmly walked to the desk in the far side of the room, even as his whole body screamed in agony.

He searched the whole place and only came away with a knife, a letter opener, a pair of scissors, and a heavy paper weight. He breathed harshly through his nose as he heard the wood begin to crack.

The first hunter through the door was greeted with a letter opener to the eye, Stiles was able to knock the gun from the second hunter’s hand as he tripped over his fallen companion, Stiles pushed the hunter against the bookshelf by the door to quickly stab the man in the neck with scissors.

Stiles slammed the door against the third rushing hunter, causing him to stumble back with a grunt. Stiles threw the already bloody scissors toward the man, not waiting to see where he was stabbed as he rushed past the remaining three. As they stood to give chase Stiles turned to throw the paper weight, it hit the one on the left and Stiles saw there were only two chasing him. The writhing body of the third was still on the floor at the end of the hall.

Stiles turned the corner, but stopped to wait and as soon as the two men appeared he kicked out and heard the man’s leg snap.

The man collapsed, screaming, but Stiles didn’t have a chance to collect himself as he was tackled by the last standing hunter.

Blow after blow hit Stiles’ body, he struggled to protect himself and wiggle so he could grab the knife from his back pocket.

The hunter on top of him didn’t even make a sound as Stiles stabbed into his side quickly and repeatedly.

Only to collapse onto Stiles heavily, making Stiles grunt and groan as he worked to push the man off him.

Stiles breathed heavily, not moving, as the cries from the two injured hunters still sounded around him.

He could only see out of his left eye and his void couldn’t keep up with the pain shooting through his body. He struggled to crawl over the hunter with the broken leg.

“Who do you work for?” Stiles' voice was almost nonexistent.

The man didn’t answer so Stiles roughly hit the broken limb, causing the man to cry out.

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Another hit, another scream.

“I swear! I swear! We got paid upfront!”

“I believe you.”

The man’s head fell back with a thunk on the wooden floor in relief, Stiles made his ending quick.

Stiles struggled to his feet, using the wall to make his way slowly toward the wheezing man at the end of the hallway, the scissors sticking out of his stomach.

“There are more of us.” The hatred in the hunter's eyes didn’t make Stiles pause, but his words almost did. Stiles roughly pulled the knife from the man’s belly to stab him in the neck and sighed as the man’s grunts of pain faded away. It was quiet. It was finally quiet.

Stiles’ anxiety grew as each shuddering breath struggled past his ribs. He Searched the man and found extra ammo and then found a gun one of the other fallen hunters had dropped. He slowly crawled his way up the stairs, he felt strangely like a slug, leaving a red tail after him.

Even though he was electrocuted every time he tried, he still sent some magic to his wounds. It didn’t work as much as he’d like, but it at least brought him back from the brink of death, for now.

The hunter said there were more of them. Did he mean in the world or was it a warning they were just the first wave. He pulled himself up to stand at the top of the stairs and sluggishly made his way to the door protecting the twins.

His legs gave out and he had to pull himself the last few feet, but he settled himself with his back against the door itself. He didn’t say anything as he set the extra ammo out beside him in easy reach. He checked the gun to see he only had five rounds left.

His breathing was becoming more ragged, he knew he couldn't survive another wave, but they’d have to physically move his corpse to get to his pups. No, Peter’s pups. They were Peter’s.

“Hey,” he called to the door behind him, “are you both okay?”

He heard shuffling, “Uncle Stiles?”

He smiled weakly at that, “Yeah little one, it’s me.”

“Why aren’t you letting us out?”

“There might be more coming, I can’t- I can’t risk it, but don’t worry I’ll be here until your dad gets here.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know, me too.” Stiles breathing was now more of a rattle.

He closed his eyes in agony. He was dying. No energy to get help. No void. No magic. He would die a mere human. He tried to readjust, but his arm gave out, and he couldn’t hold back the moan of pain.

“Uncle Stiles, are you okay?”

Tears sprung to his eyes at the question. That small voice full of worry.

“Yeah,” He was fooling no one with his weak voice, “don’t you two worry about me, okay?” He swallowed loudly, “Listen, if you guys ask me a question and I don’t answer, don’t worry, okay? Your dad will be here soon.”

“You mean, if you die?”

Stiles huffed out a laugh that turned into a cough, he slid down the fake bookshelf a little.

“I don’t want you to die.”

Stiles shook his head when he heard the small sniffles, his fingers itching to comfort them, but knowing he couldn't.

“Are you kidding?” his light tone was off, but he continued, for them, “I’m too stubborn to die. You can’t get rid of me that easily. Now you two need to do me a favor and be brave for me, okay? There should be some blankets and cots in there, try to get some sleep. When you wake up your dad will be here.”

“Okay.”

“Yes, sir.”

The two small voices answered him.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but his vision started to blur and he realized he was going in and out of consciousness.

“Uncle Stiles?” The small worried voice took a little longer than it should have to register in his brain.

“Yeah?”

“Your heart sounds funny.”

Stiles tried to make his voice stay steady, “It’s going to be okay.”

Crashes and yelling sounded downstairs.

Stiles' sluggish brain screamed for him to get up, to fight.

The yelling got closer and the library door slammed open, people surged into the room.

Stiles raised the gun and started firing, people dove out of the way.

“Wait! Stiles! Stiles! It’s us! It’s Derek!”

The frantic voice put a stop to the bullets, but Stiles didn’t lower the weapon. The people moved forward slowly and their faces cleared. Talia, Peter, and Derek were moving closer, horror written on their faces, a group of blurry people stood frozen behind them.

“Daddy?” A small voice spoke behind the bookshelf.

Peter took a shuddering breath at the same time Stiles’ arm gave way, the pistol clattered to the ground. Then there was movement everywhere.

Stiles’ shirt was cut from his body, a piercing cry rang out as tweezers were inserted into his wounds, pulling the three bullets from his skin.

When his screaming stopped he heard the sound of tiny hands beating against the wood of the secret door, tiny voices yelling his name, and Peter’s raspy voice trying to comfort them.

“It’s okay, Uncle Stiles is getting some help now, okay? But you don’t need to see this. You stay in there.”

Peter’s voice broke.

Stiles blinked his one good eye and Derek’s tear streaked face came into focus.

A soothing feeling came after a sharp sting in his arm. It felt weird, it felt cold.

“I told you I’d be here waiting.” Stiles mumbled sleepily as Derek’s face pinched in distress.

Then blackness. Sweet numbing blackness.

Chapter Text

"Listen here," Stiles' sluggish brain recognized that voice, he tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't listen, "you are going to wake up in time for my birthday."

If Stiles could snort he would, Lydia.

"I know you and the other- the other me were close." She cleared her throat, "Really close and I know she wouldn't take you laying around here like this. I'm not her and I know I will never be her, but I am demanding you wake up."

Stiles struggled his way to the surface, trying to get his body to listen. Move a finger, nothing. Move a toe, nothing.

"Seriously," Lydia's fake haughty tone spoke out in the- he inhaled on his own command- dusty room, "Stiles this just ridiculous. Get your lazy ass up."

Stiles almost believed it, but he heard her sharp intake of breath that covered a small sob.

"My birthday party is in a few weeks so you get your ass up. You've laid there long enough."

There was nothing but her heavy breathing before Stiles heard her turn to leave.

He took another voluntary breath and wished with all his might for this to work, "You should know I wouldn't miss your birthday."

She gasped as she hurried back to where he was.

"Stiles?"

His eyes still wouldn't listen, "I don't know why you sound so surprised. I believe the Lydia Martin demanded I 'get my lazy ass up'."

Lydia let out a weak wet chuckle, Stiles felt his own answering small smile, "Still working on the actual getting up part."

"Oh, god, of course, hold on! Peter! Peter! It's Stiles!"

Stiles grunted as her loud voice assaulted his brain.

"Sorry!" She hissed, much softer. All he could do was hum deeply.

He heard running footsteps, "Is he awake?"

Peter sounded frantic.

Stiles smirked, "No."

Right as Lydia said, "Kind of?"

"What the hell does that mean, kind of?"

"Oh hey, Sourwolf." A manic chuckle tumbled past Stiles’ lips, only to be cut short by pain shooting through his body.

"Lydia, go call Deaton and Claudia, tell them to get here now. " Peter demanded.

"Kind of hot when you order people around."

Stiles heard a growl which made his smile grow.

"Shut up, Stiles." Peter sounded too relieved to be truly annoyed.

"Yes, sir."

He felt it when Peter sat down next to him on the, mattress? It felt like a mattress. He could tell it was Peter by the exasperated chuckle he released as he got settled.

"Good to see those hunters didn't knock your sense of humor loose."

"Nah," Stiles tried to shrug, his body didn't move, "just a few screws."

"Fucking Christ." The angry sound of Derek sounded off to his left now. Stiles heard him start to pace briskly back and forth.

"Okay," Peter spoke slowly after a tense silence, "why did Lydia say kind of?"

"My body isn't responding to my commands."

Peter hummed and he heard Derek's movements slow, "Like what?"

Stiles' hand wanted to twitch with how vulnerable he felt. It's Peter and Derek. It's fine. He's safe.

"I- I um- I can't open my eyes and my toes, my fingers- everything, but my mouth."

His breathing picked up speed. His panic rising. Saying it out loud made it real. He wanted to disappear into his mind again, he didn't have the energy to deal with this.

So he did what he always did, he made a joke, even as his throat felt too tight, "And no comment about how of course my body could never forget how to speak."

"Hey," Peter's voice grew soft and Stiles exhaled in fear when he felt a touch to his cheek, as he hadn't been expecting it.

"Hey, hey it's just me." Peter soothed, not moving his hand away, Stiles' breathing calmed.

"You lost a lot of blood. Your core was completely depleted, you were shot in three different places, and you were beaten to a pulp. God," Peter breathed heavily, "Stiles, you can't walk because your body basically thinks you're dead, your core is the only reason you are alive. Deaton said it's like running on generator power, your magic is sending power to the important places. Like your lungs, heart, and brain. It's not bothering with sending information to your limbs or anything that would take away from your energy. You're just so stubborn you bulldozed your way into talking."

Peter huffed out a wet laugh that fell flat, Stiles swallowed loudly.

"And you can't see because- because of the amount of bruising to your face. Your face-" Peter's voice broke, "I can't tell you how much- Stiles you saved my children."

Stiles breathing turned to gasps. Abigail! Elizabeth!

"They are fine! Completely fine. Not a single scratch on them and we cleaned up before they came out. They didn't see any of the blood or dead bodies or you- you on the ground."

"Good, that's good." Stiles breathed deeply for a few moments.

"Sorry about the banister."

"Sorry- sorry about- the banister! The banister is what you're worried about!"

If Stiles could move his body he would've jumped from Derek's loud sudden voice and the sound of a desk breaking.

"You need to stop or get out!" Peter's voice was pure steel.

It was dead silent besides Stiles frantic breathing, he couldn't see Peter's reaction, couldn't see Derek's face. Stiles didn't understand what was happening. What did he do? Why was Derek so mad at him?

"You're scaring him."

Peter's voice was so quiet Stiles was sure he wasn't supposed to hear that.

Stiles couldn't help desperately to try to move his head, which only resulted in slight twitching as he tried to look at Derek. He felt tears slide down to his temples and into his hair, he wanted to go back to sleep.

"I'm tired." His voice didn't even sound like his. It sounded small, lost, and weak.

Peter stood, "Of course. We'll have Deaton and Claudia take another look at you. They'll be happy to hear your brain is functioning enough that you can speak and your memory is intact."

Stiles heard movement as they started to leave, his heartbeat picked up and his panic rose. He didn't want to be left alone.

"Stiles?" Derek's concerned voice was much closer than he thought it would be and it caused his panic to sky rocket again. He was so confused and scared. He was a blind talking corpse.

"Please." Stiles' voice was barely there, "Please don't leave me."

He felt the mattress dip, again his fear spiked, fucking silent wolves.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep." Derek whispered lightly. Stiles heard the door click shut and he assumed Peter had left.

Stiles grumbled slightly, "Can you make some fucking noise. Going to buy you a fucking bell."

Derek huffed a little, "I will try."

"How long was I out?"

It was quiet, "Derek?"

"Five weeks."

Stiles' brain almost shut down completely, "F-five- over a month? You're telling me I've been laying here for over a month?"

Derek cleared his throat, "Well, not just lying here. I come in to exercise your muscles once or twice a day. Then Deaton will come by to check on you and he and Claudia have some medication and potion they give you. It smells right awful. I don't know how the smell alone didn't wake your ass up when they shove it down your throat."

"Any excuse to get your hands on my body, huh?"

"That's the part you focused on?"

Stiles smirked, "Seemed like a pretty important part. Too bad I was passed out for it."

"Go to sleep, you idiot."

Stiles did as he was told, his mind already shutting back down.

He came into consciousness much quicker the next time. A gasp leaving him as his senses all decided to start to communicate with his brain at the same time.

"Whoa! Whoa! Easy. Easy "

"Peter?" Stiles couldn't hide the fear in his voice.

"Welcome back." Peter sounded happy.

Stiles tried his toes, they twitched.

Stiles exhaled excitedly. He tried his eyes, nothing. Disappointment washed over him.

"How long this time?"

"Only a few days. Derek's going to be pissed you woke up after he left. He's at work."

Stiles didn't know what to say, so just slowly turned his head in Peter's direction.

"How are you feeling?"

"My toes twitched." Stiles supplied as his mind hadn't fully processed being awake again.

"Hey! Soon you'll be up and kicking all our asses again."

Stiles smirked and enjoyed the comfortable silence for a while. Peter, though, seemed to not be able to sit still.

Stiles didn't need to see to know Peter had something on his mind, Stiles could feel the tension coming off Peter's body.

Stiles knew it was only a matter of time before Peter couldn't keep silent.

Stiles heard Peter suck in a big breath as if he was about to speak, but then a second later it was released in an uneasy sigh.

"I've been here a while," Peter started slowly, "and the idle time makes a mind wonder."

Stiles silently waited, giving Peter time to formulate where his words were headed.

"Can I ask you a question?" Peter's sudden unsure voice made Stiles' curiosity flare to life.

"You can ask me anything. I just might not answer you."

Peter chuckled, "Fair enough. Though I will tell you that the door is shut and these rooms are sound proof."

Stiles hummed, then nodded.

"What were you to me, in your world?"

Stiles hadn't been expecting that and even if he had, he didn't have the energy to put up scent blockers.

Peter sniffed loudly, Stiles was sure for his benefit. To let Stiles know, out of respect, that he was going to read his scent.

Peter hummed lightly in curiosity, "Interesting. There is deep love there, but not- not romantic. Though don't think I didn't smell that undertone of attraction. A protective streak mixed in there. What I want to know is why there was a spike in guilt when I asked that?"

Stiles' hand twitched.

"Did you and I cross a line in the other world?"

"Why are you asking these questions?" Stiles' voice was begging for this to stop.

Peter hummed, "Don't worry, I'm not making a move on you. Believe me, there would be no question if I were. I just think it's interesting how jumbled the heart can become. I'm curious how that could've happened. You've shown no real interest in me, but I knew there was something. I just don't understand why that connection is there, you and I both know I'm not your mate."

Stiles' heart almost beat out of his chest.

"Calm down," Stiles could hear Peter lean back in his chair, "you and my idiot nephew can sort things out."

Anguish ran through Stiles' body.

"Did you cheat on him?" Peter asked suddenly then gasped at the overwhelming anger rolling off Stiles.

"Okay, that's a no then."

"He didn't want me." Stiles answered in a thick whisper

"Idiot." Peter huffed.

Stiles smirked, bittersweet, but then the guilt came rushing back.

Peter inhaled deeply again.

"So, just to clarify, you know what my dick looks like."

Stiles couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. Pain shot through his entire body, causing his laugh to cut short, but he still couldn't help the small chuckles spilling out.

"And," Peter sounded so small, "you know who my true mate is?"

The humor vanished as shame and a new type of guilt rushed through him.

"But," Peter sounded resigned, "you aren't going to tell me, are you?"

Stiles opened his mouth, but closed it again. If he spoke that name, Peter would track him down. It would bring the pack onto her radar and fear shot through him at the prospect.

"Is my mate dangerous?"

Stiles sighed deeply, already exhausted, "I don't know, at least in my world he turned out to be okay, but it's… complicated."

"Would it put my family at risk?"

"Yes." Stiles hated himself in that moment more than he had in a long time. It was the kind of self loathing that made you want to claw your skin away from your own body. Destroy everything about you that other people relate to your existence, but he knew he was telling the truth.

Peter knew it too, though he still sighed heavily, "Then I respect your decision."

They were quiet for a long time, Stiles still had guilt slithering up and down his body.

He heard Peter slide forward in the chair again, "Hey, I am so proud of you. Your strength is breathtaking. I am happy that the other me could be something to you that you obviously needed. You have so many people here that love you. My nephew included, why are you holding back from this?"

Stiles felt tears gather in the corners of his eyes.

"Stiles, you need to learn to forgive yourself. You deserve love."

"I could hurt him and he could so easily hurt me. I've already been rejected once by my mate. I can't survive if he- he-"

Peter hummed again.

"Please, don't say anything. I don't want him to feel stuck with me or like he has to be with me. I don't know if I'd ever truly believe he could want me. I don't know if I could believe anyone wanted to be with me."

"Stiles, let me be clear, I understand there will be nothing between us as long as Derek is here, but if he fucks up I'm next in line."

Stiles snorted sarcastically.

Peter chuckled, "For real Stiles, Derek is completely gone on you, but I won't say anything. This isn't mine to tell. You've answered my questions. I'm happy."

Stiles' tense muscles relaxed and with it a wave of exhaustion spread slowly over his limbs. He wanted to believe Peter, more than anything, but with his low energy that dark voice in the back of his head was that much harder to fight off. Though the low energy did affect it by taking some of its bite, Stiles still grimaced at how loud it seemed in his head.

"Go to sleep. I'll be right here."

Stiles smiled a little and allowed his body to drift.

When he woke up again the only outward indication was his uptake in breathing.

His toes moved, hell his whole hand moved. He tried to open his eyes, nothing.

He growled softly, "Fucking hunters."

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine."

Stiles whole body jumped, "Fuck you, Derek!"

Stiles continued to grumble as Derek chuckled.

"How long?"

"Two days." Derek answered softly.

Stiles breathed deeply as he processed that.

"I see you have regained the movement of your body." Derek sounded happy, Stiles ached to see that smile again.

"Help me up." Stiles held out his hand expectantly.

"What? No." Derek sounded flabbergasted.

"Come on, I can't stay like this. I need to get up. Get back up on my feet, in this case literally."

"No. You need to allow your body to heal. You need to take baby steps."

"Shut up and help me up."

"No."

Stiles sighed, "Fine, I'll do it myself."

"Wha-" Derek cut himself with a yell as he scrambled to catch Stiles trying to roll himself out of bed.

Derek held him close as he panted in concern and anger, "Are you completely mental?"

Stiles was also panting, but from pain, "Obviously, now help me get vertical and less diagonal. I am diagonal, right? Hell I could be upside down right now for all I know."

Derek growled, "And that is my point, you need to allow your body to heal, before pushing it."

"Uh-huh," Stiles grunted in agreement, even as he tried to get his legs to support his weight.

Derek sighed exasperatedly, "Fine, lean on me."

Stiles beamed even as pain radiated through his body with each movement.

They walked around the room for about a minute, Stiles sweating and panting the entire time.

"You are taking too much of my weight." Stiles suddenly accused.

"Hey, you are up walking around, don't push me."

"How am I supposed to get an accurate sense of what my body's condition is if I can't test it?"

"You could just listen to me." Derek spoke dryly.

Stiles hummed, "Fine."

"Wha- no!" Derek struggled to keep his hold as Stiles suddenly went dead weight and flopped to the side.

"Fine! You absolute child! I will let you test it, just get back up." Derek was utterly pissed, but Stiles immediately gripped Derek's shoulders again to pull himself upright.

Derek was breathing hard and Stiles waited, he really didn't want to push the werewolf too much more.

Then he slowly felt Derek's hands slide along his body, to loosen his hold. Stiles metaphorically closed his eyes at the sensation. His head tilted up, almost out of instinct.

"You can test your weight, I'll catch you if you fall. I got you."

Stiles couldn't move for a second as he breathed in forest and leather. Just the smell alone made him feel stronger.

"I know, big guy." Stiles whispered before he took a deep breath, preparing himself.

Stiles yelled out as he put more weight on his feet. His legs shook and the pain brought more tears to his eyes. His lungs and brain begged for it to end. He felt Derek hold him tighter as his body gave out.

Stiles' breaths left him in sharp gasps. He growled when he felt Derek start to lead him back to the bed.

He didn't notice until his breathing got more under control that Derek was speaking, "Hey, don't get frustrated. You did so well. It will take time."

Stiles couldn't answer and promptly let the darkness take him as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Derek didn't fight him after that when he wanted to try walking, which was every time he woke up.

"I want to teach my class."

"Stiles you can barely walk."

"It's the 2nd lesson, right? It'll be in the classroom and I'll have you, big guy."

Derek huffed, "Let me clear it with Peter."

Stiles didn't have to wait long, Derek made almost a ridiculous amount of noise when he came back. He clearly expected Peter to back him up, but was left disappointed.

"Okay, remember to lean on me."

"Yeah, yeah. How could I forget the world's hottest walking cane?"

Stiles heard the creak of a door open and then the loud conversation came to a crashing halt.

Stiles wanted to make a smartass comment, but he was currently focused on actually moving his legs.

"Almost there. Breathe." Derek's barely there voice spoke into his hair.

Derek suddenly turned them to let Stiles feel they were at the desk. Stiles maneuvered to sit on top of it.

By the time he accomplished it, he was sweating and out of breath.

"Was that smooth?" Stiles panted, looking in Derek's general direction.

"The smoothest." Stiles could hear Derek's smile.

Stiles turned toward where his students would be. After looking this way and that and no one said anything he let out a small chuckle.

Leaning into Derek's space he spoke in a loud mock whisper, "I don't mean to alarm you, but either we walked into a deserted classroom, or this is a group of the dumbest teenagers on the planet that think if they are quiet enough the blind teacher will just leave. Really rather rude."

It was like the dam had broken. Everyone tried to talk all at once and he heard movement everywhere. A warm smile spread across his face.

"No! No! Sit back down! Don't crowd him! Give him his space!" Even Peter's growled words weren't enough to stop the hurricane.

Stiles beamed at the chaos going on around him. Questions flew from every direction.

He artfully dodged any question that would give away how much pain he was in, though he was up front with how scared he had been during the attack. Making sure they knew that being scared or anxious before confrontation is okay, it doesn't make you weak and it sure as hell doesn't mean you can't stand up for yourself. Every other question though had a silly answer that made laughter ignite around him and distracted his students.

"Why do you do that?" Derek's voice was a sharp growl as he helped Stiles back to the room he'd been holed up in and it just deepened at Stiles' confused look.

"You're making jokes about everything! With no regard for how this is affecting anyone else!"

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"You almost died."

"I know. I was there."

"Okay, do you want to know my version of that night?"

Stiles didn't know what to say to that, so he waited.

"I was running through the woods when I smell- smelled the blood and gunpowder."

Stiles heard Derek shift in the seat he took after placing Stiles back in bed, Stiles tried not to fidget.

"I had decided to stay relatively close to home. Only about 30 miles out. I howled, a call to get back to the den. When I get close to the house I almost choked on the smells coming out of the house."

Derek had to pause and his voice came out a rasp, his throat closing from emotion, "I could smell you. Your pain and fear. Even from outside the house. I could smell death."

Derek's tone sounded distant, as he remembered the scene, "I saw the broken glass on the back porch and didn't think, I just rushed in. I broke the door even more, but I didn't care. I heard my mom and Peter quickly making their way through the woods behind me. Stiles a few miles out. I didn't care."

Stiles ached to hold him, Derek's voice lowering to a scared whisper, lost in the memory, "I yelled out for you and the girls, nothing. Then I saw your blood smeared along the kitchen floor. I found the first dead body on the other side of the island. I didn't care, 'it's not him' I told myself. I moved further into the house and the bodies kept piling up, but so did your blood. I went down to Peter's office and saw the broken down door, no heartbeats on the bottom floor. I heard my family crashing into the kitchen the way I had. They started yelling for you, no answer. Completely silent. Then the slightest sound of a grunt from upstairs. We all rushed to the sound."

Derek sighed heavily, "I felt stupid, of course you were in the library, protecting the twins. I remembered the secret door that Peter had insisted on. I was the first in the room and-and I saw you." Derek's voice broke in anguish, a hard breath rattling in his rib cage, "You started shooting and I had to dive out of the way. I shouted at you again, hoping that you would hear my words. You were so out of it. Your pupils were so wide and your skin was waxy pale. I held your head as Dad dug the bullets out of you. Your screams were the worst thing I have ever heard in my life."

Derek was silent for a second after that admission before he continued, clearing his throat, "Mom forced everyone else out, made them go to your parent's house for the night. After you passed out Peter and I went about checking the house. Peter made a lot of phone calls to fixers, but I got to walk around and see- well, I got to see how the fight went down. That's what I am being trained to do, as Peter's replacement. Talia followed silently after me as I gave my report. You put the twins in the room, to keep them safe. They told me you said to not make a sound and they didn't, not even as they heard the screams, sometimes your screams. You went to the classroom, choked out the first one. Stole his gun, then killed two more at the top of the stairs, ran out of bullets and then tackled one, over the banister. There was spatter from your blood on the hallway walls, suggesting you charged at them and were shot. You took cover behind the couch. Used a hunter as a shield so you could stab another with a piece of the broken banister. Made your way to the kitchen and stabbed another then ran to Peter's office, the most likely place to find weapons, in the left hand's office. You got shot again running down the hallway. Found more splatter and a blood smear where you leaned on the hallway wall. They broke down the door to get to you. You killed two in the office and injured a third. You ran back to the living room. Managed to injure one of the two, but you were tackled and that's where you were beaten, badly. You stabbed the man beating you and went back to kill off the rest. I know you backtracked because I followed your blood. You made your way back to the library to wait with a loaded gun and extra magazines. The twins told me they knew you were dying, they also told me that you knew it too, but wouldn't leave them."

It was completely silent as Derek finished his report of the night. Stiles wished more than ever that he could see him, get a read on his emotions.

"Well, Peter can retire any day now."

Derek leaned back in his chair with a disappointed sigh that went straight to Stiles' stomach.

"Go to sleep, Stiles."

Stiles wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't process this right away. So many different emotions and voices in his head. So, he ended up listening and letting the exhaustion take over his body once again.

Blind light made Stiles hiss in pain, he blinked.

Stiles' mind froze… he… blinked.

A heavy exhale left his body as he slowly opened his eyes again.

There, looking at him in shocked awe was Derek Hale.

Stiles blinked again, ignoring the twitch his face made at the pain it caused.

Derek looked disheveled and tired. His clothes wrinkled and his hair sticking up in odd places.

"Stiles?" Stiles' heart swelled at the pure hope in Derek's voice.

Stiles' answering smile was blinding and he couldn't seem to look away from Derek's face, it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

"You're breathtaking." Stiles breathed, still smiling up at the now shocked werewolf.

A pure happy grin took over Derek's handsome features and tears Welled in his, he sniffled a little, "You can see me?"

Stiles nodded, not looking away. He didn't want to look away ever again. Relief fell off Stiles in waves. He couldn't seem to stop smiling and small chuckles kept tumbling past his lips.

"Lydia will be so happy you can see for her birthday tonight."

"Can you help me to the bathroom, I would like to shower."

Derek immediately held out his arm and Stiles was proud to say he found today he was just slow and limped a little, but his legs supported his weight.

By the time he had showered, with a protective werewolf standing outside the door the entire time, and changed into some of Derek's spare clothes, the pack was already starting to gather downstairs. People cheered when he made it down the stairs on his own. Lydia ran to hug him.

Hours later Lydia was sitting in the middle of a literal pile of wrapped gifts.

"Thank you, Stiles!" Lydia shout over the crowd as she excitedly held up an old rare bestiary on Banshees. Stiles tried to not show his shock or confusion as he smiled at her.

"Thank you." Stiles whispered into Derek's ear as Lydia continued opening. Derek's ears went pink as he shrugged, embarrassed.

Stiles was on his third glass of whiskey when Jackson shuffled up to Lydia looking more nervous than Stiles had ever seen either version of him.

Lydia let out a small awed gasp when he opened the small box. The girls around her giggled. The simple necklace had a single petal of wolfsbane in a glass circle, with a small note. Stiles didn't see what it said, but Lydia's cheeks turned pink.

Lydia was smiling up at Jackson with such open love that Stiles felt uneasy. Jackson stared back with scared, innocent, timid love, both of their hands still on the box holding the necklace.

The rest of the pack talked amongst themselves, respectfully allowing the teens their moment.

Stiles couldn't seem to look away. His Lydia deserved this. She deserved the active family life and the full pack experience. She deserved her mate to love her back.

Stiles quietly fell into the background and made his way to the back porch. Sighing in relief when the sliding door slid shut and the noise from inside came into an abrupt halt.

Sound proof doors everywhere. A werewolves dream.

Stiles slowly settled on the top steps of the back porch. His weak grip on his glass almost made it slip between his fingers, but instead he placed it on his knee.

After a shuddering breath tumbled past his lips he quickly gulped down another mouthful of whiskey. The burn in his throat, flaring up into his nose, couldn't sooth his cold thoughts.

"Happy Birthday, Lydia." He lifted the cup toward the heavens to honor her. He stared desperately at the stars as if they held some answer for him. A small part of him wanted to pretend his Lydia was looking up at these same stars somewhere, but she couldn't be.

He felt the grief creeping over his skin, it wasn't an attack as his grief had been in the past, just an inevitability. Rolling in almost like a thick fog.

His void grimaced at the feeling, even the darkness shying away from the feeling.

It was like he was frozen in place, feeling the growing heavy emotion wrap him in it's sharp talons. He wanted to run, to destroy the world around him, his heart screaming for it, but his mind seemed to be singing a melancholy lullaby that made his entire body feel weighed down.

He had mourned his mother, he had mourned his father, he had mourned Melissa, he had mourned his brother, but he hadn't considered he would have to mourn Lydia.

Why would he have to mourn her? She was still alive the last time he saw her. But that is just it. So much could've happened to her since he left and he couldn't check. He couldn't set his mind at ease. He couldn't be there for her anymore.

She was, he hated to admit, dead to him. They could never stay up talking. They could never silently be there for the other when words were not enough.

Lydia was gone.

His Lydia. So strong. So brave. So- so.

A sob broke from his throat unwillingly, but he put his hand over his mouth to physically stop himself. Once that box was open he wouldn't be able to close the lid.

"You need to allow yourself this."

Stiles sucked in a sharp breath, but didn't turn around.

"Really going to need to get you that bell, Sourwolf " Stiles rasped thickly.

He hadn't heard the door open again, but he found he was happy it was Derek.

Derek slowly and purposefully, by the sound of his footsteps, walked toward Stiles' now hunched form. Derek didn't say anything, for which Stiles was grateful. He didn't feel like speaking.

Stiles didn't know how long they sat there, not speaking, just looking at the stars overhead.

Stiles flinched when he felt the soft Slide of Derek's hand running along his. Derek acted like he didn't notice as he weaved his fingers through Stiles', gripping softly.

Stiles turned to look at their intertwined hands in slight awe. Then their hands turned blurry as tears rushed to his eyes.

How could he be so lucky? He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve anything. Lydia deserved it.

Another sob broke through his lips and within seconds he was wrapped in Derek's steady arms.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours until Stiles finally pulled back, his tears long dried.

"Do you want to go home?" Derek's soft voice made Stiles ache even more.

Stiles couldn't look at Derek, though, his shame at breaking down too much for him to function. His grief, too great to work past it.

So, Stiles just nodded, the feeling of his neck moving was weird against his tingling numbness.

"Okay, give me one second."

Stiles didn't turn to see what Derek was doing, he honestly didn't have the energy to care. Instead he listened and stayed, waiting on Derek.

The door slid open again and Derek appeared with a book bag over his shoulder.

Stiles didn't react as he stood and started his way towards his cave. The quiet sound of Derek walking beside him was the only thing grounding him in that moment. It was slow with his limp, but Derek stayed with him the entire walk.

Stiles made his way to his room to change into sweats and a t-shirt. He could hear Derek messing around in the kitchen.

Stiles shuffled back out into the living room to see Derek shrugging his jacket off, two pieces of cake on the counter.

Stiles smiled slightly as he settled himself down on one of the bar stools and silently picked up a fork as Derek settled in on the other stool.

Stiles' mouth watered and he realized he was starving. The first taste of the cake had him humming slightly. It was delicious and he ignored Derek's happy small smile at his reaction.

"Thank you." Stiles mumbled, embarrassed, as only one could be after breaking down in front of someone, only to feel lost at where to go from there.

"Couldn't miss out on cake." Derek said lightly.

They ate in silence and Stiles checked the perimeter as Derek washed their plates.

Derek was already settled in the bed when Stiles came back in and he had to fight against that desperate longing flaring inside of himself.

"Tell me about her." Derek's soft voice spoke from the darkness, so close. Too close.

"What do you want to know?" Stiles spoke after a minute.

"Anything you want to tell me."

Stiles was quiet for a second and then he opened his mouth and began to speak. He told Derek about their high school years. He spoke of Lydia's brilliant mind and some of their trials together.

He kept speaking, even as his eyes fought to stay open and the entire time Derek listened intently. His entire focus on Stiles' words. Hungrily taking the glimpse of Stiles' old life he was offering. Stiles wanted to stress that his life wasn't something anyone should want to hear about, but this wasn't about him, this was about Lydia and the outlet Derek was so kindly offering.

Chapter Text

Stiles held a wiggling Elizabeth in his arms as they watched Derek and Abigail through the window of the general store.

Stiles was going to update some of the plumbing and his garden set up, but he needed some specific tools.

Derek offered to come with him, but he had to watch Abigail and Elizabeth, so here they were.

After a particularly strong wiggle Stiles turned to set Elizabeth down on the blue hood.

"Oh now this young lady is just darling."

Stiles froze. That voice. No. No. No. No. His mind was panicking. Finally, he turned and he hoped he still had color left in his face. He couldn't react.

"Yours?" The blonde woman asked cheerily.

"This is my Uncle." Elizabeth supplied happily. Completely ignorant of the danger she was in.

"Hi, I'm Kate." She held out her manicured hand toward Stiles. He shook it once and let it drop.

"Hello, sorry but we are in a bit of a hurry."

Kate's smile never left as she waved him off, "Oh, of course. Don't let me keep you. Just thought I'd stop and say what a cute little pup you have."

She stared a little too long to be completely natural. Fuck.

Stiles smiled and nodded stiffly and thanked anyone who would listen when Derek and Abigail came out not a minute later.

"Get in the car."

His tone had Abigail and Elizabeth jumping in without question and even Derek, while looking confused, got into the passenger seat as Stiles started the jeep without question.

No one said anything as he calmly and casually left the parking lot and turned onto the street. No one said anything as he kept checking his mirrors and rooftops. No one said anything as he double backed and took unnecessary turns. No one even said anything as he broke several laws to get them home as fast as possible when he was sure he wasn't being followed.

"Girls, go in the house and don't come out until I've spoken to your father."

The girls ran, looking scared.

Stiles was right behind them and as he walked into the living room and saw his mother and Deaton standing there he relaxed a little.

"We need to check our perimeter and up our security now."

Neither magic user asked questions after looking at him once, his face screaming how serious he was. Both dashed out of the house.

Derek and his student, gathered in the living room waiting for their lesson, followed him towards Talia's office, but he shut the door in their faces.

Talia was sitting at her desk with Nick looking over her shoulder at some papers. Both froze at his pale face.

"Kate Argent is in town. I just saw her. We need to get a head count of all the small independent weres in your territory. She'll go after those first."

Nick and Talia looked at one another, before Talia sighed heavily as she pulled a folder out of her desk drawer.

"We know." Talia spoke softly.

Stiles' brain couldn't comprehend what he just heard and he looked between the two werewolves in confusion.

"We've already lost some people," Nick stated bluntly, "We know we have a problem."

Stiles slowly took the thick folder from the Alpha's hand to flip through it as Nick and Talia watched him apprehensively.

The folder had picture after picture of five different crime scenes. Stiles couldn't look away from the picture of the dead toddler. His hands shook in anger? Fear? Grief?

"How long have you known?" Stiles' voice was liquid steel.

"A few months." Stiles exhaled loudly in anger as he looked back down at the small crumpled corpse.

“You kept this from me.” Stiles' voice was lethal and he sent a glare at the ashamed looking Alpha.

“I knew you couldn’t be trusted to hold off on attacking her if you knew.” Talia winced.

“Bullshit!” Stiles yelled and threw the folder across the room, Nicholas growled at Stiles in warning, but Stiles was so angry he growled right back.

Black already seeping into his eyes. Nick looked like he was astounded that a human could make such a noise and squared his shoulders to stalk towards Stiles, only to be stopped by Talia’s hand on his shoulder.

“I may not be the fall in line for my Alpha,” he spat the word at her, “type, but you are really going to come at me with ‘we didn’t tell you about the biggest threat you warned us about, because we think you’re too reckless’? I call fucking bullshit.” Stiles' voice was low as he took a step towards the desk to lean into Talia’s face.

“You were still adjusting, we didn’t want you to have to deal with-”

Stiles cut her off sharply, “You mean YOU didn’t want to deal with it. You can say what you want about my disposition or my past. I know I'm not squeaky clean, but I have put my all into helping this pack. I have shared my research, I have killed for you, and I have busted my ass training your pups. So what fucking unspesified task have I not completed to earn your trust? To be treated with the respect of a pack member?”

When Talia didn't say anything Stiles hissed in frustration, “It’s fucking bullshit. You can try to push this off on me, you wouldn’t be the first, but you and I both know this situation you found yourself in, is your fault and yours alone. I told you to watch out for her, I was open and honest about how she scared the hell out of me. I did my job as part of the pack. I told you to tell me, because I knew her tricks and what to be on the lookout for. I wanted to know so I could protect us! You ignored me. How’d that work out for you?”

Talia looked at him with sad eyes, “Look, we had no proof that this Kate was like your Kate! We had never even heard of her before you told us about her! When we found out she was in town we hoped she was just passing through!”

“And now you have five dead weres on your hands. Congrats Alpha. Tell me did you even check to see if any packs had gone offline suddenly like I told you to?” He was seething. These deaths could’ve been prevented if people would just fucking listen to him. Then it’s ‘we have a problem’, he was always picking up other people’s messes, and by the look on the two Hale’s faces they had indeed not looked into the other packs.

Stiles scoffed venomously, “You’re on your own.” he gritted out as he turned to leave.

“We aren’t done here!” Nick bellowed.

Stiles bared his teeth at the older man and was surprised to see a flicker of fear behind the werewolf’s eyes, “I don’t have to do shit! I don’t have the time or patience for this. We, that’s to say your pack and I, are finished. By tomorrow my home will be cleared out and you will NEVER hear from me again. You just lost any chance of receiving any more of my help. You twist my warning into a joke. It has become abundantly clear that I was merely a tool to be used. I deluded myself into thinking I was more. That was my mistake. So, no. I will not help you. I owe you nothing.”

“Wait!” Talia’s voice was desperate, “I can’t express my unhappiness about this misunderstanding, but please, at least keep training the children, they have come miles since you took over. Please!”

Stiles was frozen, breathing deeply, as he stared into her wide eyes. That wasn't Talia apologizing. No, that was Alpha Hale apologizing.

Misunderstanding.

Stiles had to fight not to jump over the desk and disembowel her. He felt his entire irises go black, “You want me to train the children, fine. One last lesson.”

He yanked the door open and all his students scurried back away from the door, where they obviously had been listening.

“Outside, NOW!”

They all scrambled towards the field and he strode forward to follow them, ignoring his own mother and father’s voices, the scared looks of his students as they took in his entirely black eyes, and an uncharacteristically jittery Talia Hale as she too followed him outside.

Once they reached the field he kept striding to the middle as he yelled out, his voice a deep growl, “Arm yourselves. 10 seconds.”

The kids all looked at each other in terror and didn’t move.

“10!” They scurried to the shed where the spare weapons were kept. Most of the wolves stretched their limbs, wanting to use their natural weapons.

“9!” His mother was hurriedly talking to an increasingly disheveled Talia and Nick.

“8!” Cora came back with a pair of brass knuckles that she had discovered she liked fighting with in a previous lesson.

“7!” Lydia came out with a baseball bat.

“6!” Derek was looking between his parents and Stiles in confusion.

“5!” He slid his own knuckles on.

“4!” Kira came out with the katana she was still learning to use, but it still was the best option for her.

“3!” Jackson took his shirt off and smirked.

“2!” His Darkness howled inside his head in excitement, it knew pain was coming.

“1!” He started running toward his students and saw the absolute panic on their faces. He had never run at them outright with no prior instructions.

Jackson smirked and started running at him as well and Stiles felt a rush of pleasure vibrate down his spine. Bless Jackson, stepping up to the plate when Stiles needed to pulverize something into the ground.

The rest spurred into action, right after Jackson and Stiles felt his gut clinch in excitement. His lone form smacked into the opposing group and he let his darkness take hold.

The yells of pain, the sounds of crunching bones, and the pain he felt rush up his arm with the force of his hits had him almost dizzy with ecstasy.

When one would fall he would yell at them to get back up, to stand up and fight! The battle wasn’t over yet, but eventually they couldn’t.

Lydia was already laid out and not moving, same with Jackson. Erica almost got her claws into him, but he managed to twirl and throw her back into the side of the house where she smacked with a hard thud and fell to the ground, not moving.

Boyd roared as his mate fell and Stiles relished in the fight. Boyd was strong and it actually proved a challenge, but Stiles was able to break his arm, only to throw him down onto the ground to dislocate his shoulder, then picking up Lydia’s bat he easily broke one of his knee caps. Then knocked the boy out with a hit to the face.

Stiles was covered in blood and yelled at the others to fight harder. Cora and Laura did a great tag team on him, but they both landed in a nice heap, Laura wheezing loudly and Cora passed out. Scott, Kira, and Issac tried coming at him from three different sides, but a few ducks and slides had Kira stabbing Scott in the shoulder. Issac and Kira were so freaked out after that that they were easy pickings.

He slowly turned to the last remaining opponent, Derek.

He had no weapon and he was staring Stiles down, even as fear reeked off of him. Stiles felt a dark sense of arousal rush through him. This was one of the reasons he had fallen in love with the other Derek. Never one to back down or be bullied into surrender.

Stiles’ smiled a little maniacally at him as he threw away the bat. He didn't need it. His body screamed for close contact and Stiles was happy to oblige.

They stared at each other, but with a deep breath Derek started to run at him and Stiles felt his heart soar with the promise of a close quarter match with him.

They collided loudly. This wasn’t like the other fighting techniques Stiles had shown up until now, this was primal. Lethal.

Growls came from both men and Stiles was thrown through the air, only to roll out and slide to a stop crouched. He felt overwhelming pride at Derek’s abilities.

Derek stared in awe, but he started to move forward again, only to wince with the movement. Deep claw marks ran across his collarbone. Stiles waved from his crouched position, showing off his magiced claws on his fingers.

Derek roared as he released his own and Stiles shivered in anticipation. They collided again and Stiles came out with a new long scratch along his cheek and neck, but Derek’s legs were shredded and even with the accelerated healing he stumbled to the ground, only to be knocked out by a kick to the face.

Stiles casually stood back up, placed his brass knuckles in his back pocket. The field was quiet. The people on the porch were too shocked to move. He took a second to breathe the heavy dusk air into his burning lungs. His dark circles under his eyes pulsing black with energy. He allowed himself to glow in the dark adrenaline, begging for more, but as he looked down at the bleeding Derek on the ground his darkness knew it wouldn’t get it's way. It stilled within him, but didn’t back away.

He leaned down to push magic into Derek and the man breathed in deeply as he came to. Stiles easily knocked Derek's flailing hands out of his way. He ignored Derek’s wary eyes while he continued to check over Derek's body to help kickstart the werewolf healing. Stiles was pressing magic into Derek’s broken jaw when he finally met Derek’s eyes, “I am so proud of you.” Stiles spoke softly, “You fought like a true warrior. You could have won that if you built up your defensive stance more. You left yourself too open and I was able to rip through your thigh muscles. You may be a wolf, but you aren’t impervious to injury or immortal. Bigger injuries won't heal as quickly. You need to keep yourself safe, you mean too much to lose. Working on your boxing and kick-boxing stances will help build up the muscle memory.”

Stiles stood and made his way slowly around the field to each of his students and snapped dislocations back in, stopped bleeding, helped give energy to their healing, and woke the ones that were passed out.

Each time telling them how proud he was of them and what they needed to work on and how they would achieve this. If he was leaving he was at least going to give them something to focus on when Peter took back over.

He held Scott down with his knee as he pulled Kira’s sword from his body. He tried not to get flashbacks, but he found himself grimacing as he stopped the bleeding and smiled softly as the werewolf healing started to do it’s thing. Scott grabbed his wrist before he could move on and softly begged, just once, for Stiles to stay. Stiles closed his eyes as his gut twisted and moved on without an answer.

As Issac came to, he flailed wildly, still in panic mode, but Stiles brought him to his chest to whisper encouragement and praise as he calmed down. Stiles spent a little more time telling Issac how proud he was then he had with the others, but no one said anything. Issac was silent, but then softly thanked him for healing him and had a small proud smile on his face.

Once everyone was back up on their feet they looked sadly at him as he smiled softly at them, his eyes still completely black.

He told them one last time that he was proud of them before he turned to Peter.

"You knew, didn't you." It wasn't really a question, Stiles knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it.

"Yes." Peter whispered.

Stiles nodded once, his jaw clenched. He struck out quickly, punching Peter hard in the face. The were didn't try to defend himself and took the entire force, knocking him to the ground.

Stiles turned to stroll up into Talia’s personal bubble. No one spoke as they watched his progress, but he saw the other adult wolves move closer to protect their alpha. He paid them no mind, just like the blood coating his body and clothes, or the blood running down his face and torso from different wounds. He may have healed his students, but he wore his injuries proudly.

“Next time,” Stiles voice was full of condescension, even whispered, “when a man who can do this,” he gestured to the the field, “says a person is a threat… maybe fucking believe them.” He moved away and walked backward towards his woods, still facing her, “And don’t treat them like they're an idiot. It only pisses them off.” He turned to continue into the woods toward his home. He needed a shower.

Chapter Text

Stiles ran back to his cave as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t bother wasting his energy on masking his scent or covering his tracks, he’d take care of everything once he was home.

The pack’s shock wouldn’t last long and he needed to have everything in place before then. Passing into his boundary he planted his hand over his older magic and it greeted him eagerly as it sensed his haste. He chanted Latin and begged his spark to understand what he needed. He gasped loudly as a soothing vibration shot up his arm.

It almost brought tears to his eyes, the warm understanding the magic thrummed to him. Telling him he wasn't as alone as he felt. His spark saved him from death, it would always protect him.

Stiles ran his premirtier sending as much energy as he dared into his boundary.

Panting, he stumbled into the shower, only realizing after he turned on the water that he was still fully clothed.

Stiles peeled the wet clothes off, enjoying the loud splat they made as they hit the floor. He placed his hands on the cool tile as the water beat down onto his back. He tried to process what happened in the last hour. How could an hour, a simple hour change his entire life.

No, he thought bitterly, the real question is why does this keep happening to him. Why can’t he enjoy a day in town with his mate and two girls whom he loved as if they were really his nieces?

He felt the first warble of his magic about ten minutes later.

“Stiles!”

Stiles froze, he didn’t even breathe.

“Stiles!”

Derek sounded farther away, his magic was working. His cave didn’t move, but anyone, even if they’d been there before, would be a few miles off.

“Stiles!”

Derek sounded closer, he was searching. Stiles turned the water off and took his time drying, looking quickly at the jagged claw scratch along his cheek from Derek pounded in dull pain. He sent magic to heal his other injuries then, but decided he’d let the scratch heal. A physical reminder of Derek being in his life. Part of his brain tried to show him how fucked up that was, but he shrugged that voice off as he changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

Hands in his pockets Stiles strolled toward his boundary where he could still hear Derek’s voice. Another perk of this new magic, a mirror effect, an illusion as old as time. The space Stiles’ home took up simply would not be there, even if you were looking right at it.

Stiles sat on a large rock, watching a distressed blur run through the trees. Stiles' stomach dropped as Derek came to a stop only about 70 yards away from his position.

Derek's chest rose and fell in great huffs as he tried to catch his breath.

“Please, Stiles.” This wasn’t yelled, this was a strangled plea into empty space, as one would do when they have no one else to ask for help. Derek’s begging eyes swept the space around him.

"Look you're too fucking smart to not already know I'm here. I don't know if you're listening, but please… please talk to me. I know my pack has no right to ask anything of you right now, but I'm not asking for the pack. I'm asking for me. Just me."

Stiles wished more than anything to show himself, but he made himself stay on the rock. If he showed Kate he felt anything for Derek that would put him up on her list. She spoke to Stiles in town, that had to mean something. Talia showed she wasn’t willing to listen, so Stiles would take care of it himself.

After she was dead he would come back to talk to Derek, if the man still wanted to talk to him by then.

Even as a full minute passed Derek stood still and waited. It was obvious he planned to try and out stubborn Stiles.

Stiles tried to smirk, but ended up hissing in pain from his- shit- still bleeding wound.

Loud crunching of leaves had both Stiles and Derek looking over. Derek in hope and Stiles in curiosity.

His students came stumbling out from the underbrush, all out of breath, Jackson cursing.

“You’re a werewolf, you idiot.” Issac huffed in irritation.

“Doesn’t mean thorns aren't annoying” Jackson shoved Issac with his elbow.

“What the hell are you all doing here?” Derek demanded exasperatedly.

“You’re the only one besides Claudia and Noah that knows where Stiles lives.” Scott stated as if this explained everything.

“And Claudia and Noah are a little busy at the moment.” Cora spoke too lightly.

“So,” Lydia spoke from a fallen log where she sat, breathing heavily, “when we saw you run into the woods, we followed.”

“Yeah, and then you kind of went all over the place.” Erica looked around the woods, hands on her hips.

“He must have fucking done something to hide his camp.” Derek growled, “It’s not in its normal spot and I can’t find it.”

More crashing through the woods had everyone’s heads turning again. Laura and Jordan came from a much more level part of the woods.

Derek groaned, “What are you two doing here?”

Laura huffed, “You are the only one who knows where Stiles lives, well his parents know, but trying to talk to them right now isn’t a good idea.”

Derek sighed heavily and Laura rolled her eyes, “So, what gives little brother? You seriously can’t find it?”

Derek growled, about to explain, when a voice suddenly came from the opposite direction, “All of you are giving up the element of surprise, you know.”

Peter stood looking indifferent, but Stiles could see the tense line of his shoulders. It was apparent he didn’t know how he would be received.

Derek sighed, “What do you want?”

“It was either asking Claudia or following you and I’m not going to try and interrupt her. Seriously, you can hear her yelling for miles. I don’t think she would notice me even if I did try to speak.”

“Great!” Derek threw his hands out in exasperation, “Anyone else want to join the party?”

It was silent for a second until Kira’s voice floated out, “Is he even still here? He said he was leaving.”

“He won’t leave right now, he knows Kate is here now, it’s his best chance to kill here if he stays in the area.”

Peter looked at Lydia impressed, she met his look coolly.

“Stiles putting more security on his camp proves he’s still here,” Derek put his hands on his hips.”

“Do you think he will show himself?” Scott’s hopeful tone made Stiles’ fist clench. He couldn’t, not with everyone around.

“No, not now.” Derek looked at Scott, their sadness mirrored on their faces.

"So Claudia really didn't know? Noah either?" Laura asked Peter in curiosity. The man shook his head.

“Why?”

The defeated voice coming from Cora pierced the tense silence around the forest, she was looking at Peter. She wanted to know what the fuck just happened.

Slowly the rest of the group understood and turned to look at the ashamed looking left hand.

“I- I am afraid I-” Peter didn’t sound like himself, he sounded lost… he sounded genuine, Stiles could see shock on a lot of the group’s faces, “there is not an explanation good enough, but I will tell you all the truth.”

Peter took his obviously sweating palms out of his pockets to rub them on his pants, “When Stiles first came here he gave us a list of threats from his world. It was a long list and Talia and I have been making our way through the list, but it’s slow work. He did tell us about Kate Argent and expressed how dangerous she was. We didn’t know him though, not really, so we stuck with what we did know. We started researching Jennifer and any other names we knew on the list. Then when we did get to know Stiles, witnessed what he could do, we started to research the Argents, but that’s all we could find, just a name. They covered their tracks well. Then Jennifer popped up out of nowhere, then those Doctors, and then literally the next day Kate was seen in town. Talia, Nick, and I talked about telling Stiles right then, but we were honestly hoping basic surveillance would be enough. Stiles had done so much for us. Protected us. We wanted the chance to return the favor. Kate slipped through our fingers and every time though and another independent were family was killed. I demanded Talia tell him, but it was the full moon, she said she would tell him later.”

“But then the hunters almost killed him in our Den.” Laura provided.

Peter nodded, “He saved my children, but- but,” Peter sighed deeply, “I can’t get the image of how he looked when we found him- his broken face, out of my mind. How- how could I tell him then?”

Peter sounded like he was genuinely asking, no one answered.

“I’m not proud to admit I was a coward. As for my lovely sister's reaction in the office, well, she is never the greatest when her mistakes are slapped in her face.” Peter couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

Stiles suddenly understood that he had misread the guilt on Nick and Talia's faces. It was because they felt like they could've done better. Stiles wished it made his anger lessen, but it didn't.

Laura suddenly stomped her foot in a distinctly un-alpha-like way and turned to Jordan, “You’re a Hellhound, can’t you sniff out his Demon side?”

Jordan looked helplessly into her hopeful face, “It doesn’t work that way. I- I can’t-” His voice trailed off as Laura's eyes filled with tears.

Stiles stood and silently made his way back to his cave, he didn’t want to see anymore.

A few days passed and each day he sat and watched Derek search for him. Stiles sat with his chest tight and his head pounding from guilt over what he was putting Derek through. The pain from his still healing wound and his guilt acting as his self imposed punishment. He would be there for Derek, even if the man didn’t know it.

Stiles snuck out on the fifth day to secretly add an alarm that would alert him if anything dangerous passed over the Hale property line. He didn’t make it strong, to avoid detection, but that meant he’d have to recharge it often.

Months passed. He focused on his own training. He modified his weapons, broke into the local library at night to research, and managed to expand his herb garden. He discovered places in the preserve he had never seen before. He checked in on his parents when he could. Mainly, though, he stared at the wall or watched Derek, now silent, as he patrolled Stiles' part of the woods. No longer screaming for Stiles to show himself.

Stiles' nightly routine consisted of not only checking his own barrier, but the one on the Hale property. Most nights he could easily run through the woods without the fear of attracting attention, because most nights there wasn't anyone outside.

Tonight, though, as he glanced toward the house he saw Derek, hunched over, leaning on the back porch railing. He had a large glass of what looked like whiskey in his hand. Stiles slowed, climbed a tree to camouflage himself.

It was obvious by his intense eyebrows and staring that he was far away, wrapped up in his thoughts.

He didn't react to the sliding door opening behind him, other than to blink and look down at the dark liquid in his glass.

Talia slowly came to lean against the railing a few feet away from him.

"Missed you at dinner." She spoke lightly.

Derek just took a sip of his drink, not looking up.

“Peter said that the pups actually started answering his questions in class again today.”

Derek didn’t move a muscle.

“Are you still not speaking to me?” Talia asked softly.

Derek didn't react.

Talia sighed, "I didn’t mean for any of this to happen."

Derek growled.

Talia’s face fell, “Please, Derek, talk to me. At least to let me know you are okay. You haven’t spoken to any of us since-"

Talia cut herself off as Derek suddenly shoved himslef back from the porch railing to walk back towards the house.

“I am so sorry, Derek.” Talia’s voice was thick and desperate, but it didn’t stop Derek’s stride.

Stiles waited for Talia to follow after her son before he silently continued on his route, his mind buzzing with a new type of guilt. Was he as bad as his Derek from his universe? Was he causing irreversible damage to his mate?

Stiles decided on his way home that he would leave something for Derek sometimes, to let Derek know Stiles didn’t leave him. Stiles knew his patrol route from watching him, so picking a spot to leave a gift was easy. He sat the large bag of Salt and vinegar chips on the rock Derek would usually take a break on.

Stiles watched from afar as Derek came to a halt when he saw the offering. He looked around warily, slowly moving forward. Derek bent to sniff the bag and raised an eyebrow as he pulled away, obviously not smelling anything off about the food.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice was soft, like his smile, as he picked up the bag. He sat as he plopped a chip into his mouth, humming a little.

“I would prefer talking to you, but thank you for letting me know you’re okay.”

So it continued, Stiles kept leaving little gifts. More food, a small fox wood carving, a collection of herbs to help Derek sleep. Stiles was there for every single reaction, Derek’s dimples flashing with every new gift.

Stiles snapped awake as a ripple of magic flared through his body. Someone was in his woods.

He quickly threw on a jacket, grabbing his gun. He covered his scent and silently started making his way towards where his magic was leading him.

As he kept walking a prone figure on the ground came into view. Stiles raised his gun and checked his surroundings as he snuck closer.

"Jesus." Stiles breathed as he realized who it was, Derek.

He walked up to the man on the ground and that's when the smell hit him. Derek was drunk, no, Derek was obliterated.

"Oh, Sourwolf." Stiles whispered as he bent down beside the passed out were.

"Derek?" Stiles gently shook him and was relieved when Derek groaned, his eyes opening to look around confused.

"Derek?"

Derek's eyes finally snapped to focus on Stiles' face.

"Youuuu." Derek slurred, Stiles tried not to laugh.

“You’re actually here.” The pained awe in Derek’s voice zapped Stiles’ humor out of him.

“Derek, I will always be here for you.”

Derek’s face crumpled, “Then come home,” Derek tried to sit up, Stiles had to reach out quickly to help support him, “Come back to me.”

Stiles swallowed thickly as he positioned himself to tug Derek up, “It’s not safe out here, Derek. We need to get you home.”

Derek groaned, looking pale. Even as Stiles supported his entire weight Derek looked like he might vomit.

“Let me know if we need to pullover if you need to throw up.” Stiles spoke dryly as he started to trudge forward, Derek flopping slightly.

Derek didn’t speak much on their trip back to the Den, Stiles almost laughed as he was pretty sure that was so Derek could focus on not vomiting everywhere.

Stiles cloaked the both of them and easily snuck onto the Hale property.

“You sneaky sneaky man.” Derek giggled, “I knew you were still able to be around, but this just proves it. God, I hope I remember this tomorrow. I got to see you again. Will I remember this?”

Stiles was really struggling not to laugh, but he really couldn’t be caught, so he softly shushed the werewolf.

Derek playfully shushed him back, “Right, we’re sneaking.”

Stiles breathed easier when they made it to Derek's room with the door shut, sound proof never felt so good.

Stiles placed Derek into the desk chair off to the side, ignoring how Derek immediately slumped down a little, in favor of going back and locking the man’s door, just in case.

When Stiles turned back to Derek it was to see him smiling happily, even as his torso was sitting at a weird angle in the seat, his glazed eyes staring at Stiles.

Stiles finally did chuckle softly, this big soft wolf was his mate. He wanted to enjoy this moment with Derek, but this wasn’t Derek, this was the whiskey? Tequila? Stiles didn’t know, but he needed to take care of his mate.

Stiles moved over to the dresser to find some comfortable clothes, laying them out on the bed. Stiles moved to the bathroom, reappearing with the herbs he had given Derek earlier.

Grabbing the glass of water already sitting on the desk he infused two types of the leaves, turning the water color to a greenish tint.

"Drink." He softly ordered to, a now droopy looking Derek. Stiles had to help hold the cup steady, but was happy when Derek swallowed every last drop.

"Good.," Stiles softly praised. At least now he wouldn’t have to worry about Derek getting choked on his vomit through the night and it would help soak up a lot of the liquor still in Derek’s system to prevent a bad hangover.

“Okay, drunky, time for bed.” Stiles smirked at the pout taking over the grown man’s face. Stiles led Derek to the bed, beside the clothes.

Derek flopped back onto his covers with a happy hum, Stiles rolled his eyes as he bent to start untying Derek’s shoelaces.

He placed the muddy shoes by the door and the socks in the hamper. Stiles was about to turn back to Derek when he was suddenly shoved against the wall, Derek’s face buried in his neck.

“What did you give me?”

Stiles almost banged his head against the wall repeatedly, he had forgotten that those herbs will help a drunk person, but they will get a surge of energy when it first starts working.

“Just something to help sober you up.” Stiles breathed, his hands bracing against the wall as Derek’s arms wrapped around him.

Derek hummed, not really paying attention it seemed, Stiles closed his eyes. Derek was still drunk, he reminded himself. His head thumped against the wall as Derek pressed completely against him.

“Derek-” Stiles’ voice was little more than a rasp, “you need to go to bed.”

“Only if you come with me.” Derek nibbled on Stiles’ jaw.

Stiles couldn’t breathe, “Derek, you are still drunk.”

Stiles hissed as a clawed hand found its way under his shirt.

“Stay with me.” Derek softly commanded as his lips found Stiles’ neck.

Stiles moaned as he tilted his head to offer more, which Derek took eagerly.

Stiles’ fists clenched, panting as Derek ground himself against Stiles’ ass.

Any second now the energizing effect would wear off and Stiles would have to carry a full grown werewolf back to the bed, but he was struggling to care.

Stiles’ brain froze all logical thought when he felt Derek grab him through his sweatpants. Stiles groaned loudly and couldn’t help his hips moving against Derek’s.

Derek moaned deeply against Stiles’ neck, “So hard for me.”

“Fuck.” Stiles breathed, his body shivered.

“Smell so good.” Derek ran his nose along Stiles’ throat, “Can’t wait to find out what you smell like after I cum inside you.”

Stiles whimpered as Derek started to slide his sweat pants down. Stiles’ head fell back against Derek’s shoulder.

Stiles opened his mouth to put an idea into motion, but all that came out was a choked moan as Derek’s hand wrapped around him and slowly started to stroke his length.

“D-Der” Stiles broke off in a gasp as Derek roughly grabbed his ass.

“Derek- Derek go to the bed and take your clothes off for me.”

Stiles could feel Derek’s smile against his skin and with the absence of Derek’s touch on his skin, Stiles felt an empty hollowness carving at his insides.

Stiles turned to Derek, now having to support his own weight with a hand on the wall, his legs feeling shaky.

Derek watched him hungrily as he stripped. Stiles could see the herb second wave taking charge and Stiles only had to wait a few more seconds after Derek settled onto the bed, before Derek fell back.

“Fuck.” Stiles breathed, rubbing his face in frustration. He slowly pulled his pants back up, trying to adjust himself to where we could at least walk over to the naked were.

Stiles slid the sleep clothes onto Derek and managed to get the covers over the now softly snoring wolf.

Stiles refilled the glass with regular water and placed the herbs back where he found them. Next, picked up the discarded clothing and added them to the hamper.

Stiles made sure Derek’s phone was plugged in and the room looked the same it did when they came in. Finally turning to look at Derek, Stiles smiled down at the unconscious man.

“One day we are going to try that again, when you’re sober and everything is safe again. I will make you safe, Derek.” Stiles tentatively reached out to brush Derek’s hair away from his face, “I love you.”

Stiles quickly left and once back at the cave, jumped in the shower. Stroking himself, remembering Derek’s hand wrapped around him. Stiles came with Derek’s name on his lips.

The next night Stiles waited, but Derek never showed up at the normal spot. Stiles eventually left, feeling empty. Stiles waited the next night, but again Derek didn’t show.

The entire following week Derek didn’t come to see him. Stiles felt sick to his stomach. He should’ve stopped it sooner. Did Derek remember? Had Derek given up on him if he didn’t remember?

Stiles stared at the empty spot on the ninth night, allowing the abandonment pain to wrap around him like an old friend. He shouldn’t have expected anything less. He can’t even blame Derek, at least that’s what he told himself as he climbed into bed that night.

"Stiles!"

The panicked desperate cry reverberating around his woods made his eyes snap open.

"Stiles! Please!"

Stiles frowned, that was a woman's voice.

"Stiles!"

Stiles groaned as he sat up in bed, preparing himself. If Talia Hale was screaming at the top of her lungs for him, blindly wandering through the woods at night, it couldn't be good.

He rubbed his face sleepily.

"Stiles!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He grumbled, throwing on a sweatshirt and shoes.

He sleepily made his way towards the sound of her voice, but didn't show himself immediately.

Talia was the most disheveled Stiles had ever seen her. Tear streaks ran down her face, her clothes were muddy and covered in dirt. Her eyes wide in panic, frantically searching. She had obviously been searching for hours.

"What do you want?" His voice was rough from sleep and disuse.

Talia spun to stare at him open mouthed. Her eyes ran up and down his body. His face was now covered in a beard, his scratch now a raised raw scar, and his hair down to his ears. Drunk Derek didn’t mention his new rugged looks, but it looked like Talia might. She blinked in shock, still panting, finally smacking her lips, trying to wet them to be able to speak.

"I need help."

Stiles immediately turned away to go back to his cave.

"They took them."

Stiles' back snapped to attention, his mind going to his parents. To Derek, who hasn't been seen in days. He slowly turned back to the haggard Alpha.

"Took who?" His voice was barely audible.

"Nick, Peter, Derek, and Noah."

Stiles’ veins turned to ice. Fear tried to overtake him, but he couldn’t allow that. A jumble of questions tried to claw their way up his throat, but he didn’t have time. He felt Void feeding on the emotions, which luckily helped him control them.

"Who?" His voice was harsh.

"Hunters. We can't find them. I- I can't find them. Claudia has even gone to the Nematon, but the tree just keeps showing her your face."

"Last known spot?"

"They were taken over a week ago, at the school. Noah got a call. It seemed fishy so he called for some pack backup."

Stiles nodded once before striding away.

"Thank you!" Her shouted relief made him stop for a second.

"I'm not doing this for you."

"I know."

Stiles covered his scent and stealthily made his way back to his cave. He had work to do.

The hunters didn’t fully understand what they’d done. Stiles felt Void’s excitement dancing inside him. None of these assholes would make it out alive and if they had hurt his family he would peel their skin from their bodies.

Chapter Text

Stiles ran toward the Hale property, not bothering to cover his scent or his noise level. He was looking for a fight.

The pack was in the yard when he broke the tree line. He ignored them to load the car with his three heavy bags, until he felt two small bodies grab his legs. Looking down, the scared faces of Elizabeth and Abigail stared up at him.

Stiles immediately stopped and bent down to bring them into a hug. He kissed the top of their heads as they both sobbed loudly. Holding them until they calmed, not rushing them, not asking them to be brave this time.

Abigail pulled back first, Elizabeth held on a little longer. Stiles met Abigail’s serious face over Elizabeth’s head. He didn’t smile, letting her young eyes read his face.

“You’re going after dad.” Abigail stated.

Elizabeth pulled back to look at him as he nodded.

“You are going to go dark eyes on them.” Again it was stated, again he nodded.

Abigail nodded in return and Elizabeth spoke for the first time, “Please bring dad back.”

Stiles cupped both of their tiny faces, “I will not rest till I find them.”

Stiles went to stand, but Elizabeth caught his hand, making him crouch back down, “You come back too. We miss you, Uncle Stiles. Daddy misses you too.”

Stiles dropped his eyes quickly, “Go to your aunt.”

Stiles stood as they moved away, finishing loading his bags.

Another bag landed on top of his and Scott tried to settle in the passenger seat. Stiles stopped him with an arm over the door, “What do you think you're doing?”

“Coming with, my bag is already loaded up.” Scott smiled that crooked smile that had gotten them into so much trouble in his universe. It made Stiles' heart clench painfully.

“And it can be unloaded.” Stiles nodded toward the bag.

“You need back up.” Scott pushed.

“No, you need to stay here and have at least somewhat of a normal life.”

“I’m coming with you.” Scott crossed his arms.

Stiles sighed, “Don’t do that. Don’t make me have to bring your mother into this.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Listen to me, Scott, if I accomplish anything in this life it is to make sure you never have to go where I’m going. To make sure you never have to do what I’m about to do.” Stiles felt his eyes go hard with the weight of the blood on his hands.

“I already watched my brother go through unimaginable pain and loss, I witnessed him turn into a cautious alpha who carried an unbelievable weight on his shoulders. I witnessed him die. All of these things because I wasn’t fast enough. Because I couldn’t-” Stiles turned to grab Scott’s bag to hold it out to the sad looking wolf, “I will never let you go down that path. There isn't any hope for me, my soul is tainted more than I could ever recover.”

Scott ignored the offered bag in order to bring Stiles into a bone crushing hug that made Stiles’ bottom lip trimble.

“I’ll protect the others, until you get back.” Scott assured him confidently as he pulled away, taking the bag, walking back toward the porch. Stiles tensed as he saw his mother walking towards him.

“Oh my Mischief,” she cupped his face and he couldn’t resist leaning into her touch, “I am so sorry. We tried- I desperately didn’t want to put this on you. I tried a locating spell. I tried to talk to the creatures in the forest. I tried everything. I am so, so sorry. Maybe try talking to the Nematon, Love, ancient asshole kept saying you were the answer.”

Stiles chuckled as he brought his hand over hers, “When it comes to my family I will always be here, especially for you and dad.”

Claudia’s eyes welled with tears, “You were so mad when you left, I didn’t know- I was scared you-”

“Never.” Stiles cut across her sharply.

Claudia nodded in relief, even as a few tears fell down her cheeks. Stiles wiped them away, “I’ve experienced this before, Mom. I know what to do, how to find them. Dad’s strong, I’ll bring him back.”

Claudia nodded again and hugged him one more time before moving back, allowing him to climb into her old jeep.

He drove to the school, but after a week there wasn't much to see. He tried to not let his frustration get the better of him. It wouldn't help and he had more avenues to investigate.

He walked into the police station next. Jordan froze in shock at his desk when he saw him. Stiles just waited for Jordan's brain to catch up, he didn't have to wait for long. Jordan jumped up and ushered him into his dad's office.

"What can I do to help?" Jordan spoke in a rushed whisper as soon as the door clicked shut.

Stiles opened his mouth, but Jordan cut him off, "Seriously anything you need. Weapons? Back up? Oh! I can get a car from the impound lot. Do you need a hug?"

Stiles found himself smirking, "No, nothing like that. I need the dispatch notes from the call Dad wanted back up on. If you have a recording available that'd be amazing. I also need to look at his patrol car."

Jordan didn't waste time, he moved to Noah's computer and quickly printed out the notes and downloaded the 911 call recording.

"Here." Jordan left the recording pulled up on the desktop and handed Stiles the printed report.

"Thank you." Stiles spoke genuinely thankful Jordan didn't try to question what Stiles hoped to find that the police couldn't.

Jordan knew that without a warrant they were stuck with the surface level amount of facts. Not to mention that the police aren't looking for supernatural elements.

"Take care of yourself. My Mate wants you to be her man of honor at our wedding sometime in the future."

Stiles chuckled, but was genuinely touched when Jordan handed him the keys to Noah's car and a box of extra ammo.

After Jordan left to get back to work Stiles started to take the information in front of him apart piece by piece.

He tracked the number to a burner phone and cursed. Though he shouldn't be surprised. Burner phones are in every hunter's arsenal.

The notes weren't really helpful. It just showed how weird the call was and explained why his dad called for pack backup.

The caller was noted as being a male, but other voices could be heard in the background. He was noted as having a thick Louisiana accent. The things that stuck out was the complaint was a simple suspicious persons report, but that the caller said he knew Sheriff Stilinski and requested his help.

Stiles listened to the recording, his void growling inside of him as the man's voice washed over him.

Stiles plugged the recording into a software Danny had shown him years ago. He spent the next two hours trying to bring the voices in the background to the forefront.

A malicious smile slowly spread over his face. It was a conversation between three other people. A woman and two men.

A rush went through him as he caught a few names. Mark, Devon, and Miller.

He could work with this.

Next he went through the police records. These hunters would've had to have set up shop before pulling this off. He searched through the incident reports for a string of seemingly unrelated events.

Hunting wasn't a lucrative business, which often led to hunters stepping into the life of crime.

He found a report of a group of people at a motel skipping out on their bill three months ago in a town about 70 miles away. He focused more on the area.

There had been a string of thefts that started four months ago. General stores, home improvement stores, a pharmacy, and a veterinary clinic had been hit twice. Stiles hummed, he now had the town.

The next four hours were spent entering information in the computer. Stiles searched the Louisiana arrest records. He entered the three names he had overheard in the name, aliases, and accomplices tag. The police were able to get a rough description of a car and man from the security cameras from the motel incident. He added the parameters. He canceled out any first time offenders.

He was left with five possibilities. He printed out their files, just in case. He could keep an eye out for any of them in the town.

Stiles took all his work and with a single nod to Jordan, who looked to be about half asleep, he walked out of the police station.

He stopped at a gas station on the way out of town to fill his tank. He stocked up on caffeine pills, energy drinks, and junk food. The cashier didn't even bat an eye, which Stiles respected.

About an hour and a half later he drove past a small sign welcoming him, he flipped it off. Stiles had to admit this was the perfect place. Rural enough that people didn't care what you did as long as you left them alone, but big enough to have supplies readily available.

He checked into a motel and started to plan. He put the do not disturb sign on his door and began to lay out his supplies. He laid out his weapons on the table in the corner, his research on top of the small dresser, and his drinks in the mini fridge.

Stiles left the drapes closed and set up an alarm spell on the door, before taking a shower.

He changed into sweats and a clean undershirt, quickly climbing into the bed. Allowing himself this time to recharge, because he knew when he woke up the real search began.

He ate at the local spot for breakfast and dinner. Always listening closely to the waitress as she talked to her tables of regulars. During the day he walked the small historic downtown and drove the backroads.

It wasn't until day four that the waitress said something useful. She noted that her daughter who worked at the bar a town over was complaining about a new group of people. Four total. Apparently they would come in and drink until their jokes turned a little frightening.

Stiles quickly found there were two towns in the close vicinity that had bars. Stiles would stake out both.

That night he parked his jeep and found a table in the back corner. He had a perfect view of the door, the five faces of the possible criminal he was after dancing in front of his face.

It was two hours later that a group in leather jackets, all concealing an arsenal of weapons, came into the bar. There were five total tonight.

A woman wasn't with them, but he heard them making crude comments about a woman and another man from their group back at the- did they just say bunker?

Did these motherfuckers really build a goddamn bunker? Though Stiles had to admit it's what he did for his pack back home.

This would make a stakeout much harder, not to mention this would require a whole new type of assault.

Stiles sat silently, pretending to be focused on the bottom of his glass, and listened.

When they left Stiles silently laid money down on his table, following after them.

Yup, the fuckers had an underground bunker. It would just add some time to Stiles' investigation time.

The next two days were spent finding all aspects of their security system as he patrolled the woods around the area.

Back at his motel room he opened the one bag he hadn't touched yet. His self imposed isolation had given him a lot of time to research. To tinker and invent some questionable things . He carefully pulled out a pouch, metal clinking against each other as he sat it down on his bed.

Stiles pulled out a group of thin darts. He had spent weeks developing the serum inside and then another few weeks to develop the delivery system.

The bright yellow liquid, once inside the body, would react with the blood. To physically restrict movement and loosen a person's will, all without making them lose consciousness. This would be their first field test. He needed the hunters alive if he expected to find Kate and he would find Kate.

He carefully loaded the darts into the belt he had made to hold them and stood back up smiling.

He threw on his black cargo pants, plain black shirt, and laced up his combat boots. Loaded his gun and placed it in his shoulder holster, his knife at his ankle. His knuckles in his back pocket.

His backpack was stocked with healing items and other small things he thought he could use to gain an advantage. He tried to think through every possibility on what the inside would look like and the state his family would be in when he found them.

Stiles closed out with with front desk and it spoke volumes about the motel's clientele that the haggard looking man didn't blink a eye at Stiles'outfit.

He parked his jeep about five miles away and hiked his way to the bunker. Sitting in the treeline he waited, looking to see if there were patrols or anything new, nothing. With two weeks gone and no sign of the pack it seemed the hunters were relaxed. Good.

He pulled his ski mask from his back pocket and pulled it on. Stiles slowed his breathing, and felt along his belt, reassuring himself he was prepared. His previous recon was thorough, it was time.

He was easily able to sneak past their cameras, motion detectors, and traps. Stiles was actually very impressed with the amount of traps. They were clearly expecting the pack to attack as a full frontal force. Idiots.

Gaining entrance into the underground bunker was the hard part. He checked every inch of the door and on each one of the hinges was the smallest set of wires. Some type of alert system that'd have to disabled before he could open it.

He pulled his bag off his back and quickly found his tweezers and a small knife. He slowly pulled the wires out and felt the rhythm of energy pulsing through the metal as his spark answered it. Using a special puddy he had made himself, he poured the same wavelength into the wire as he cut it, making it believe it was still connected. Once he attached the puddy it was a self sufficient loop. He continued this process for all of the five wires on each of the four hinges. It was slow and repetitive, but as he swung open the door, no alarm signaled his arrival. He slunk down the stairs, closing the door behind him.

At the bottom was a single narrow hallway. A small pulse of magic provided a headcount. Eleven people. Seven hunters and then four people grouped behind the door at the end of the hall.

The hunters were all sleeping, except a single person in the first room, probably watching the security cameras.

Stiles silently opened the door and dispatched the man easily by stabbing a dart in his neck. A small hiss as the liquid was released into his body. Stiles tied his hands and pulled him out into the hallway.

Stiles moved down the hallway, repeating his process. All seven accounted for, alive. All glaring at him, but silent and still.

He moved to the last door. The stench of blood was strong, even through the thick door. His stomach clenched, terrified of what he was about to see.

The first thing Stiles saw was the blood on the floor, then the thick chains, but his knees almost gave out as he saw his Dad.

Noah was swinging from the ceiling next to the three other captives, but Stiles couldn't look at them yet.

He ripped his mask off in a single fluid motion as he surged forward, "Dad?"

Stiles' shaking hands struggled to find a pulse. He let out a single relieved breath when he felt his dad's vein jerk, he was alive, bug in the same moment began panicking as the man's heartbeat had a lengthy pause. Stiles sent a quick surge of magic into the chains and they fell away immediately, causing Noah to limply fall against him. Stiles gently laid him down.

"No, no, no, not again." Stiles struggled to figure out where he should focus on first. His Dad's face was black and blue, his chest had similar bruises and cuts, and his wrists were rubbed raw from being restrained. A few fingers stuck out at odd angles and his breathing rattled in his chest.

Stiles fumbled with his bag and pulled out an antiseptic liquid, he had added some of his own spin on it so it would jump start a body's healing. He poured it over his father's chest. Next he felt along his father's body to find anything broken, but was relieved when he found nothing, except the two fingers.

Stiles forced a potion down his father's throat that would help replenish his blood loss, then another one to help with pain. Stiles wrapped his father's torso and wrists with bandages. It was a temporary fix, but needed for the trip back to the pack den.

He sat back on his legs as he watched his father struggle to breathe. Stiles hated himself. He should've gotten here sooner.

Slowly Stiles turned to the three wolves, all staring at him in shock. None of them had spoken a word since he had come into the room.

They all looked like shit, but nothing could compare to his father. Noah wasn't a were. He was human. He was good. He didn't deserve this.

Nick was looking at him with guilt and pain filled eyes, obviously hating that Stiles had to save him again and for not being able to protect Noah.

Peter was uncharacteristically nervous looking, like Stiles might blame him for the whole thing. He shouldn't worry about that, Stiles blamed himself.

Derek was looking at him in awe. That was the only way to put it. His eyes hadn't left Stiles' face since he had taken off the mask. Stiles noticed he was unconsciously leaning towards Stiles, as if he wished to be close to him, even as it caused him to strain against his chains.

They all had several bullet wounds in their bodies, some of them had the black veins spreading out from the entry wounds, wolfsbane. They were also cut up and Derek had a knife sticking out of his stomach. Every breath caused a shuddering twitch of pain.

Stiles went through and released them, noting that their restraints were infused with mistletoe.

Stiles helped Derek to sit down on a stool by a table and told him not to move.

Stiles pulled out a balm and handed it to Nick, "This will help with the mistletoe burns."

Stiles turned away quickly and didn't see Nick's grateful nod as he cradled the canister up against his chest with shaking hands, almost like he was scared someone would rip it from his grasp at any second.

Stiles pulled a tube of cream that was mixed with some of his special magic, along with some wound wash, and tweezers. Cautiously, he made his way to Peter, who was now sitting on the floor, back against the wall.

Peter's torso was covered with torch wounds. Stiles' heart ached as he noted that the hunters had ground wolfsbane into the bubbled skin to prevent healing and create a never-ending torture with each breath.

"This is going to hurt." Stiles whispered sadly as Peter looked up at him with tired eyes.

"I trust you." Peter's voice was little more than a rough rasp.

Stiles held up a finger, setting his stuff down to walk back to his bag and tossed another pain potion to Peter who caught it eagerly, chugging it. Stiles tossed him a bottle of water next, but he warned Peter not to chug it, small sips.

While Peter rehydrated, Stiles walked over to the slumped and grimacing Derek. Stiles grabbed Derek's hand and brought it to rest on his shoulder.

Derek gritted his teeth, he knew what Stiles was about to do, but was terrified.

Stiles brought one hand to the back of Derek's neck, sending calming and numbing pulses into Derek's body.

Derek's eyes fluttered close as he gripped Stiles' shoulder harder. As Stiles gripped the handle of the knife Derek's breathing picked up. Stiles hesitated, but Derek opened his eyes to stare into Stiles' then he nodded firmly once.

Stiles effectively yanked the knife out, even as he heart broke from the loud yell Derek let out. Derek collapsed against Stiles' chest as Stiles dropped the knife to the floor to quickly send healing magic into the open wound. Derek buried his face into Stiles' neck, breathing Stiles' scent in and Stiles let him take as long as he needed.

Once Derek moved to sit back up, looking much better, Stiles moved back toward Peter.

Peter laid back to allow Stiles more access to his chest and stomach. Stiles kneeled beside him and started to use the tweezers to slowly pick out the wolfsbane stuffed into his body. Using a syringe that he kept refilling with his antiseptic to help flush the packed herb loose.

Peter's fists clenched and tears ran down his face, but he didn't cry out- at least not at first. As Stiles had to go deeper into the wounds to get every bit of the herb out Peter started to whimper and shudder.

It was on the third burn that Peter turned his head to lean into Stiles' leg, sobbing openly.

Stiles spoke softly to him, letting him know the pain would eventually end. Letting him know he wasn't alone. Letting him know that his two girls were at the Den waiting on him.

Stiles sat watching as his magic, treatment, and Peter's wolf healed the sweaty and shuddering man. Stiles grimaced as he had to poke his tweezers in a few times in a few places that weren't healing completely to remove some wolfsbane he had missed. Peter was staring at him and Stiles didn't want to analyze everything he saw in those eyes. Instead he slowly lifted Peter to a sitting position, letting the man lean into his chest, as he slowly fed him another pain potion.

Stiles stood and told them all to sit and relax for a second, he'd be right back. One by one he dragged the hunters into the room and lined them against the wall by the door. After that he confiscated every single gun he could find and lined them on a table at the back, obviously meant for dissections.

"Peter, smell all of these," Stiles indicated the confiscated weapons, "are they all the same wolfsbane?"

Peter quickly went down the line and nodded at Stiles as he came to stand beside the werewolf.

"Fucking amateurs." Stiles growled and he randomly took three bullets from a gun and handed it to the other three conscious men.

"Heal yourselves." He ordered as he went back over to his Father's limp and broken body, ignoring Nick's staring as he opened his bag, pulling out even more balms and bandages.

Setting those to the side for the moment, Stiles gently pushed some magic into his dad's chest. Noah groaned in pain, causing Stiles' face to pinch in distress and his magic to pause.

"It's okay dad, I'm here. I'm going to take care of everything." Stiles promised as he ran a hand over his dad's hair.

Stiles softly started to push the magic into Noah's broken body again, which twitched violently. Stiles' eyes watered as continued to push more, apologizing repeatedly for the pain he knew he was causing as bone and muscles had to remake themselves.

Once Noah was able to breath without wheezing Stiles sat back on his knees, slightly out of breath, but proud. His dad was going to live. Taking a small bag from his book bag he quickly stuffed the balm, bandages, and herbs into it.

"Mom will know what to do with this."

He handed the bag to Nick, who immediately threw the bag over his shoulder.

“Now go,” Stiles ordered to Nick, “Take my Dad to my Mom, now.”

Nick scooped up Noah easily, but hesitated, “Stiles, I can’t repay- I am so sorry for everything.”

“Get my Dad home safely and we're square. Head East, you’ll quickly find familiar territory in about 40 miles.”

Nick blurred past Stiles, who didn’t even flinch at the sudden movement. He ignored the other two weres in favor of going back into the hallway and searching the cleared rooms, of which there were ten. An armory which he raided, his weapons now.

The bedrooms had two bunk beds on each side, except for one that had a large desk and a single metal bed- the leaders. He gathered anything useful and put it with his weapons. He mentally gathered what he could about the personalities of the hunters, anything that would help get information out of them.

In the leaders room he took every single file or map he could find, something would lead him to Kate.

The other rooms were a kitchen, the security office, a room with a couch and tv, and then a storage room.

Stiles came back into the room to look at the hunters, even as he talked to Peter and Derek, "It's time for you both to leave."

"No." Derek's voice was a wheeze, but firm.

Stiles looked over to see the beautiful man clenching his fists in anger? Fear?

"I'm not letting you disappear again."

"You don't want to see this. You don't want to see me- like that."

"I'm not leaving." Derek stood taller, even if it seemed to cause him pain.

"I'm staying too," Peter insisted.

Stiles looked them up and down before sighing. He moved his bag off to the side and prepared the torture chair in the middle of the room.

When he came back to stand before the hunters he sent one last uncertain look to his pack.

"Last chance." He spoke lightly. Stiles hoped they would see he wished more than anything they would leave. He was going to hand over total control, something they had never seen before. They had no idea the depravity they were about to witness. Both men stood their ground.

Stiles looked down, breathing heavily as he concentrated and prepared for what he was about to do. He could already feel Void clawing its way up his throat.

He closed his eyes, his body tense, and his fists clenched.

Peter and Derek didn't have to wonder when it happened. Stiles' body slowly relaxed and he rolled his neck, eyes still closed. His body now moving with a lethal fluidity. As his eyes snapped open the ghost white slid across his skin, his dark circles slid all the way around his eyes, which were themselves pitch black.

He was full Void.

"He's a fucking demon!" A large bald man at the end yelled in rage, but Void could hear the edge of panic underneath, good. The man suddenly started chanting in Latin.

Void tried to hide his amusement, but apparently failed as the man's yelling faltered and then, finally, came to a stop.

Void waited patiently, with a polite look of interest on his face, as if the man was merely explaining an interesting topic. As silence once again took over the room Void tsked loudly, his face morphing into pure disappointment, "An exorcism? Rude."

Void smiled suddenly, jumping from one emotion to the other that it was giving the humans whiplash, "I am not some little witch who sold her soul." Void was truly insulted, "I am much older than that. I am before the word 'demon'. I am from before America was built on stolen land. I am ancient. Your Latin, while enunciated beautifully by the way, is useless. So, could we maybe keep that to a minimum? It does get annoying after a while."

There was a shocked silence that didn't seem to bother Void in the least. Instead he started to investigate the room some more. Smiling as his hands softly trailed along the table with the lined torture devices. He picked up the eye scoop that taxidermists use with a sense of glee.

When the prisoners started to shuffle uneasily his black eyes found the group again and he smiled, "Oh, I'm so sorry," not sounding the least bit apologetic, "I forget you humans are so impatient."

Void laid the tool down and casually sauntered back to the group, speaking casually, "I was just admiring your set up. It really is impressive. You accomplished it in a little over a month too. Very impressive. I should have guessed you built something like this though. You can be as evil as you want underground. I mean look at the Toy Box killer."

Void came to a stop back where he started. The hunters didn't say a word. The Hales didn't utter a sound. Everyone waiting.

Void clapped his hands together suddenly, making a few people jump, "Let's see seven little playthings for me to sample, where to begin?"

Void suddenly crouched in front of the lone woman, much too close. He smiled in triumph when the loud fanatical man twitched toward him.

"So," Void looked between the two, "what are you to each other? Siblings or fucking?"

Void laughed loudly at their reactions, "Fucking it is, Siblings would've shown disgust at being asking if they were sleeping together. It is interesting that she showed shame." Void looked at the man, leaning a little closer, "Why do you think she's ashamed?"

The man tried to lunge for Void, but this just made the demon smile wider.

"Ah, but don't mind an ancient beings' wonderings. It won't matter in the long run."

Void stood quickly, turning back to his bookbag. The zipper sounded loud in the quiet and then the crinkle on paper could be heard before Void pulled out a pile of folders, all bound together.

"Let's see here," he shuffled the papers, smiling widely when he got to the right one, "Well, well, well," Void threw the other files behind him, "Hello Mark Jenkins."

A tall muscular blonde man jerked his head slightly, "How the fuck do you know my name Demon?"

Void ignored him, "Born July 9th, 1982. OH! You're a Cancer! Love that for you. Oh no, mom murdered, huh? That is unfortunate. I lost my mom when I was young as well. Then my dad was murdered because of the crowd I hung around with. It's never easy, no matter whoever you are."

Void flipped the page, "First arrest at the ripe age of 13, seems healthy."

"How do you know this?"

"Well, Mark, when you make a fake 911 call to trap someone, make sure your people shut the fuck up in the background. Got three names out of that. Mark, Miller, and Devon. That mixed with your Louisiana accent, the description of you skipping out on that motel, well come on Mark, it was child's play."

Mark gritted his teeth.

Void smiled as he looked around, throwing that folder behind him as well, "Okay, so if you tell me where Kate Argent is I'll kill you quickly."

"Fuck you." The fanatical man growled.

"Not my type, plus your girl is right there. It'd be awkward. So, is that a no on the information?"

"We would never betray another hunter."

Void grimaced in disgust, "The Argents aren't hunters. Hunters have respect for the prey they go after. Hunters use everything from a kill. Hunters give a quick death. What the Argents are is murders. Nothing more."

"And you don't have blood on your hands, Evil One?" The woman spoke up finally.

"Oh, my hands are soaked, but I always killed in self defense." Void pulled another file out to show the picture of the toddler Kate killed, "Look at this."

He showed the picture to everyone and then with a grave finality he pointed to a bulky dark haired man, "And you are the leader."

At the man's shocked expression Void continued, "Everyone had varying levels of disgust or shock, but you- you just had shame. You already knew about this."

The man nodded once, "Sometimes, extreme measures need to be taken. She would've grown up and came for revenge. Aggression is in their nature."

"Wouldn't you? Go after the people who killed your family for no other reason than because of what they were?" Void's voice was hard. The man dropped his eyes.

"You know the funny thing about hunters is how hypocritical and ignorant you can be." Void threw the file down in front of the group, the mangled body of the girl on full display, "She was human you shitheads."

The leader's head snapped up and Void nodded, "Only one of her parents was a werewolf. It becomes a 50/50 chance if their children will get the gene. This poor girl, who didn't get a chance to experience life, who had two loving and good parents, was murdered by your hunter organization."

"What? No, Kate said-"

"Oh, I have no doubt Kate had a lovely explanation for everything. That's what she does. She manipulates people. Want to know her main form of enjoyment? She tricks young boys- minors- into a relationship, gains their trust, and then kills their family. Oh, but she leaves the boy alive. Leaves them to believe they are the reason their pack is dead. You do know pack bonds are real right? That it can cause a werewolf to lose their mind? Because the grief and pain is that overwhelming. Does that sound like hunting to you?"

No one said a word, Void gritted his teeth, "And you, you kidnapped a human sheriff!"

"We thought he was one! We saw him at their house. We didn't know until we- we-"

This was a new voice and Void turned slowly to look at the very young and terrified man at the end.

Void walked down to him and crouched slowly in front of him, "Well hello there, I didn't even see you as this one," Void indicated the large younger man beside him, "was hiding you with his body. He your brother?"

The boy, as Void now realized that's what he was, was small, blonde, and still had the dark glow of lost innocence around him. The boy nodded, looking at the ground.

The boy's brother was older and he was glaring at Void in a weak attempt to try and intimidate him away from his brother. All while his body reeked of fear and desperation. Though what Void couldn't look away from was the man's eyes. They were intelligent eyes that knew it was hopeless, that knew he and his little brother were going to die. Void breathed it in. Such a beautiful snack rolled up into one beautiful package.

"We don't know where she is." The leader spoke harshly.

No one said anything as Void stared at the brothers for another long second, then standing he turned to walk back to the middle.

Void slowly withdrew his pistol from it's holster and deeply enjoyed all of the hunter's bodies jerking slightly.

"Derek, who tortured you?"

Derek didn't answer. Void in the only moment of compassion he was going to show all night, didn't look over to Derek. He didn't want his Stiles, his home, to remember the face of the man he loved at this moment.

Void didn't know what he'd see if he turned. Disappointment? Terror? Hatred? He just knew his Stiles didn't need that particular dark memory added to his brain, especially since he was going to add so much more.

Void sighed, "Peter."

"The leader didn't do shit, I know you're shocked, but still might be a good one to talk to."

Void nodded, his love for the man skyrocketing.

"The boy, the woman, Mark, and that man over there. All took part in it, I guess to share in the blame. Some team building exercise, huh?"

Void laughed loudly and turned to look at Peter, who was casually leaning against the wall.

"If the pup wasn't here and I didn't know this path was leading to your mate, I'd kiss you."

"If the pup wasn't here, I'd let you."

Void laughed loudly again as he raised the gun to shoot one of the hunters not mentioned, still looking at Peter.

Turning he quickly killed the other inconsequential hunter. Then again, he smirked, they all were.

"Mr. Leader! If you wouldn't mind." Void gripped the man's arm tightly as he dragged the man to the chair.

The leader tried to struggle, but Stiles, his smart and resourceful Stiles, had taken care of that before it could start. The magical liquid doing its job.

Void strapped him safely to the chair, patting his hand in faux comfort. Void spun on his heel and walked the two steps it took to get to the side table. Void hummed happily as he looked at the table lined with torture devices.

"What to choose… what… to… choose."

Void picked up a scalpel, "Can't go wrong with the basics, I guess." Void spun back around, "At least to start."

Void leaned into the man's view again, "Now, let's try again. Where is Kate Argent?"

The leader clenched his jaw and turned to stare at the ceiling, not speaking a word.

Void sighed, even as he smiled, "Okay, well I guess we have to go with option number two."

The man's screamed ripped through the air as Void sliced a three inch long flap of skin off his arm. The man struggled as Void forced the man's jaw open as Void brought the dripping skin toward the man's face. Void shoved it through the man's lips only to snap the man's mouth closed, "Swallow." Void commanded.

The leader struggled to whip his head out of Void's grasp, but Void just held tighter, "Swallow." Void growled. The man's eyes closed in defeat as he swallowed his own skin.

"Good boy." Void praised in the man's ear.

"You know," Void said, standing up and walked to the side to look at the arm muscle he had exposed, "skinning a body is not as hard as one would think, all one needs is to create a starting point."

The leader spasmed as Void started to peel the skin from the rest of his arm. While he didn't feed another part to him, he did throw the skin at the other tied hunters behind him.

The leader's screams were only interpreted by Void asking about Kate, at least for the first five hours.

Void sat staring at his handy work. He had pulled up a chair after he threw the pair of bloody pliers, his most recent instrument, back onto the table.

Void didn't bother wiping the blood off, there would be more. The fact of the matter was the leader was fading. If the years had taught Void anything, it is that in the silence after chaos, when a person knows they don't have long for this world, they begin to lament. So he waited. Watching the leader struggle to get air into his lungs.

"You have raided my room. You have all my notes and correspondence. So, you have everything I have on Kate Argent. What else could you possibly want me to say?" The leader didn't move his head, but his eyes were cut over looking at Void.

Void just shrugged, "Some things you don't write down. Some things you notice at a meeting and keep to yourself. Some things you hear through the grapevine."

The leader coughed once, "You know I got into this when I discovered we weren't alone. My mom got bit, she was my first kill. My dad and I couldn't control her. I lost my mom twice."

Void nodded, "I am sorry. I have lost two sets of parents, currently on the third."

The leader sent him a confused look, but Void just shrugged again, "Long story, mate."

The leader continued, "What I am doing is a service. A thankless service. People go searching for power and it consumes them. They can't help the aggression. What I do is out of mercy."

Void didn't say anything. The man was almost dead, so what would be the point? So, he sat listening to his heartbeat steadily slow. A single rattle left the leader and then he was gone.

Void undid the straps and inelegantly pushed the corpse onto the floor.

"Okay, next!" He shouted and grabbed onto the fanatical man, who to his credit, fought the entire way.

As he strapped the man down he rolled his eyes at the woman shouting threats to his back.

Once the man was secured he turned and slid to be eye level and inches away from the woman, a shuddering breath left her trembling lips. There were tear streaks down her face and her body reeked of fear and anguish, but her eyes were alight with hate.

"You want to kill me?" He asked excitedly, "Please try. Come on." Void bit his lip, fighting a smirk. When the woman didn't say anything Void cocked his head, "I'm waiting." Void let another beat of silence take over the space, "No? Nothing?" Void snorted cruelly in the woman's face, before grabbing her by her hair and dragging her closer. The woman screamed, Void chuckled.

"Wouldn't want you to miss all the good parts, would we?" Void sang in his showman voice, only to twist and press his face into the side of the terrified woman's, "Keep in mind every insult you throw I will peel another inch of flesh off his body, just like I did to your boss, but you will be the one eating it. So, shut up and wait your turn."

The woman was openly sobbing now, but stayed quiet.

"Sorry about that." Void smiled at the seething man in the chair, "So, Kate Argent. Anything you'd like to add?"

The man spat towards Void's face, "Careful, I might be into that."

Void laughed loudly at the disgust on the man's face. This just made the man's face redder.

"Unnatural pieces of shit. All of you."

Void hummed thoughtfully, "You truly believe that, don't you? Yes, I can see you do. I have to admit, spot on about me. There is nothing natural about me. I was made into this halfling creature. Not quite human, not quite demon. But the Hales? They are born wolves. Their line goes back for generations."

The fanatic didn't say anything, but he did look confused, so Void continued, "They are born the way that they are. Even with that girl your buddy Kate killed, all that stood between her and lycanthropy was a gene. That's all it is, a gene. There are those that seek out the venom that carries the gene, but they are often dumb enough to get killed rather quickly. There are codes of conduct. No one gets turned without their permission and not without training afterwards. Even if a person was dying they would have to give permission. Don't you understand?"

"They killed my wife!" The man yelled.

"The Hales?"

"No, but they are all the same."

"No, they aren't. Your wife was killed by either someone defending themselves from your wife if she was a hunter or they were an asshole. Those are the two options here."

The man growled, but Void continued as if they were having a pleasant debate over coffee, "No seriously, werewolves can be assholes. It has nothing to do with their creature side. Being a were doesn't take away your personality. It's still them. An asshole gets bit, he remains an asshole. Are you telling me there aren't asshole hunters out there?"

The man clenched his fists, "Do your worst demon."

Void sighed, "Who did he torture?"

"Nick. Though a lot of it was, well, mental." Peter supplied.

Void paused and thought back, Nick did seem to the least physically hurt.

"Define mental." Void's voice was light and he didn't look away from the angry bear of a man.

"Injections that had him hallucinate, Nick never would say what he saw, but it changed him. Had him begging and screaming for hours."

Void snarled and he came up with a plan and was pleasantly surprised that he didn't have to convince Stiles' spark to listen to him.

"Let's get started then." Void then spent the next four hours recreating every cut, hit, and bullet hole he could remember, but he wasn't done yet. He looked to the shivering woman at the man's feet. In other hosts he wouldn't have to use his trickery to push this man over the edge. This hosts would have the darkness inside of them for Void to twist for them to harm the woman the way he needed to, but not Stiles. No, His Stiles would never do what he needed to convince this hunter was happening.

So subtly he ran a hand over one of the bullet holes, using the pain to cover the feeling of magic going into the man's body. Stiles wouldn't need to use this tactic, but Void wasn't as skilled. He couldn't control the spark to camouflage it. He smiled when he saw the white film take over his victim's eyes. He would see what he needed to see, hear what he needed to hear.

"No! No, please stay away from her!" the man groaned out his plea.

Void could see everyone's confusion as he had not moved from his spot by the hunter's head, his smile was all teeth. He made direct eye contact with the woman as he leaned in to whisper to the man, adding fuel to the fire, "I can see why you like her, she is quiet attractive. I wonder if her pleas for me to stop would be just as appealing."

Tears began to run down the man's face, "Please, I swear I don't know anything. Please."

"Such soft skin, I really don't know where to begin." Void's voice turned deeper.

"Don't you dare."

"He's not doing anything to me! It's a trick!" the woman shouted, but Void chuckled as the man ignored her words, crying more.

"She was ashamed to have your cock inside her, how will she feel about mine?"

"I will kill you!" The man bellowed, the veins in his face straining from the effort as he looked at something that only he could see.

"If you try to shut your eyes I will make this last. I will make it hurt. If you try to look away I will make sure this goes on for hours. I'll leave her bleeding and damaged between her thighs from how many times I take her. Demons and our stamina."

The man was shaking, his veins in his throat popping to create purple discoloration along his skin with how hard he was fighting to get free. Void left the man to his vision as he turned to some of the syringes on the back table. A nice shot of the one marked 'heart' mixed with his little show should do the trick. The man never looked away, but he was speaking. Telling the woman how strong she was, how sorry he was, and how it will be over soon.

"I wouldn't count on that." Void snarled as he stuck the needle into the man's neck. He didn't even react, too deep into the vision.

When the man's heart stopped he was dumped alongside the leader.

The woman was screaming and Void patted her head, "I am sorry you had to see that. Losing the man you love is- is some of the worst pain imaginable."

Then Void grabbed the other man, "Who?" He asked matter of factly.

"Derek." Peter once again supplied.

Void hummed, "You and I are going to have so much fun. Let's get the most important part out of the way." He fluidly stabbed the man with his knife in the exact spot he had healed Derek.

Void sat on the stool but the chair as he let the man get used to the knife, grimace with each breath. Listening to the hitch when he breathed too deep and the hiss in pain when Void softly flicked the handle. He was forming a plan, this man had touched Stiles' mate, well his mate if he wanted to be honest with himself. This pathetic human had probably celebrated in their mate's cries of agony. Their mate.

Void had his plan.

"You looked upon Derek Hales Pain." Void turned to grab the eyeball scoop from the table. The man vibrated from pain as Void used the sharp utensil to slowly and methodically remove one eyeball, then the next.

"You cause Derek Hale's pain with these hands." Void took a knife and one by one took the man's fingers, using a torch to stop the bleeding and when the man got woozy Void injected him with a stimulant.

Void asked not questions of this man, because there was no question the he would die. Void recreated the bullets and other bruises. The man only lasted three hours before his body joined the others. Void had been less careful with that one. Let the fun end too early.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting." Void spoke into the shaking woman's hair, she didn't even try to fight as he led her to the chair.

"Who?"

"Me."

Void growled and then punched the woman across the face, causing her to yelp.

Void reached for the torch again and shook it the hear the sloshing of the fuel tank, "We are almost out, but don't worry darling, I found a spare! We can go for hours. Just you and me... and your screams. I didn't get to hear what your agony sounded like in your boyfriends head, but don't worry we will make up for lost time."

She screamed as he burned the first hold into her side, leaving her shuddering as he turned to grab a stack of sand paper off the work bench in the back, "You used wolfsbane in the wounds, I must admit I am impressed by your depravity." He came to lean over her, "And do you know what they say is the most sincere form of flattery? Imitation." Void growled as he shoved a piece of sandpaper into the wound and twisted roughly.

He waited for her to stop screaming before he closed into her face, "I was right, your screams are absolutely magical." He started the torch again.

She begged for it to stop. He made her last five hours.

As he walked to the last one, the boy, he noted the boy had pissed himself.

"Don't be embarrassed." Void spoke softly to the boy.

The boy blubbered and wouldn't look up, Void sighed, "I have to kill you, you know that right?"

No answer.

"They made you take the human because you're new, right?"

The boy didn't answer, but Void knew he was right, "That was my father."

The boy started to sob louder.

Void ended up having to almost carry him to the chair, as the boy's legs seemed to forget how to work.

He lasted 1 hour, though Void went by the book on this one and merely copied his father's injuries and he didn't use magic to make it last longer. Void started into the scared eyes of this boy, not even old enough to legally go to a bar yet. He held onto the boy's hand because he could feel Stiles' remorse for the youngster. Void watched him leave. This body left in the chair, yet another dignity rewarded from Void.

Void stood back and looked around panting. He let the hammer clatter to the ground beside him.

The silence was deafening after the sounds of agony seemed never-ending for hours on end.

"Take care of my Stiles." Void asked softly, not looking over to the two werewolves, who were still in the same spot they had started out in.

Then, closing his eyes, he started to breathe easier. The wolves could see him leave. The more natural pink bleeding back through and the black circles turning lighter with each breath.

Stiles was back for a few seconds before he dared open his eyes. He remembered... everything. He didn't want to see it without the glamour filter turned on. He didn't want to see it through his eyes and thought process, but he knew he had to.

Slowly Stiles blinked and looked around. His breathing picked up. His head spun.

He looked down at his sticky hands, still wet with blood. Layers and layers of blood. Looking around he spotted the sink and made his way to it.

He slowly turned on the tap and began trying to wash the blood away. He caught sight of his reflection and his movements slowed. He looked the same, well his eyes were bloodshot and dead, but he looked the same. How could he look the same after that?

He suddenly ripped the mirror off the wall and threw it. It shattered as it hit another wall. He wasn't done. He turned and tipped the cabinet beside him over, relishing the loud crash it made. He picked up a bloody crowbar and proceeded to break it into splinters.

As he stood panting, hating himself, a gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"It's time to go home."

Derek took the metal weapon out of his hand and let it clang onto the floor a few feet away.

"Come on." Derek encouraged.

Stiles gathered his things and stuffed his bookbag full of anything he thought would be important. Packing another bag he had found in the bunker full of weapons. Better in the pack's hands than whoever came looking for these- these- Stiles sighed. These bodies. That is all they are now.

As they emerged into the night air Stiles breathed in the clean air and turned to both wolves.

"If you go that way," he pointed East, "you'll make it home."

Derek stepped forward, "I'm coming with you."

Stiles grumbled, "You are going home."

Derek growled and stepped into Stiles' face, "I am coming with you and I am never leaving you again."

Stiles didn't have the energy or right mindset to fully process the weight of that statement, but that also meant he didn't have it in him to fight the man.

So, he shrugged and started walking back to his jeep.

"I'll see you at home, soon." Derek promised Peter, who nodded in understanding.

"Take care of him." Peter tried to whisper back, but Stiles heard him.

Chapter Text

Derek didn't say anything as they got to the jeep.

Stiles' ignored the wolf's eyes on him.

Derek didn't say anything as Stiles loaded his bag into the back with the others.

Stiles ignored Derek trying to help.

Derek didn't say anything as Stiles unloaded the weapons attached to his body.

Stiles ignored the pain shooting through his hands, his bruised knuckles protesting to each movement they made.

Derek didn't say anything as they started driving back to Beacon Hills.

Stiles ignored the blood still covering his body. Flexing his hand around the steering wheel as the blood begged for his attention.

Derek didn't say anything as Stiles drove up the driveway and parked at the far end of the lawn.

Stiles climbed out of the jeep, wondering how long Derek and he would continue this silent dance.

Lights started to turn on inside the house. Stiles was so focused on not wanting to see anyone that he almost ran into Derek, who had his three bags loaded on his body and looking at him expectantly.

Stiles didn't fight it and turned to go home, hopefully before anyone could stop him.

"No, not tonight. I'll see you soon. I'm fine." Derek's soft voice almost didn't register in Stiles' brain. He must be having a conversation with someone inside.

"Don't worry, I got 'im. I'll take care of him."

Derek chuckled, "I love you too."

Derek came into stride with Stiles as he said, "Mom wants you to know that Noah is doing great and he is resting right now."

Stiles didn't know how to feel. He felt simultaneously numb and a turmoil of emotions slowly killing him.

As they passed into his boundary he bent to his magic in greeting, the soft leaf litter crunching under his palm. It's sigh of relief made him smile softly and before he could ask, he felt his line taking away the illusions he had placed on there what felt like years ago.

"Thank you." He softly spoke, his hand twitching from the answering hum.

Stiles entered his cave, running his hand along a column, greeting his mother's magic embedded in the walls as it dimmed and grew in excitement that he was alive.

"I'm glad I'm home too." He softly spoke to the ceiling, a small soft smile barely lifting the corners of his mouth.

He continued to the corner table to grab some of the extra pain potions and immune system boosters.

Derek had already sat the bags down by the door and watched Stiles' progress toward him with a sense of apprehension, not scared, just unsure what Stiles would do next.

Stiles handed both vials to Derek and affection grew in his chest as the man downed both without question. The trust was still there. Even after … after…

Stiles slowly lifted Derek's dirty and torn shirt and threw it by his bags, he'd take care of that later. He looked up into those green eyes, watching his every movement so closely.

Softly taking ahold of Derek's hand he led the wolf toward his room. Leading him to the bathroom, where he quickly turned and began to unbutton Derek's pants. Derek's breathing picked up and Stiles wondered if Derek even remembered what happened when he was drunk. What was it with Derek and that damn wall?

Stiles helped the man strip out of the rest of his clothes, but immediately turned and focused on getting the water just right. Moving out of the way to allow Derek into the shower when he was satisfied.

Derek sighed as the water started to cascade down his body. It felt amazing. His body relaxed and he threw his head back into the spray, eyes closed. Sensing eyes on him he lifted his head and opened his eyes.

Stiles was still standing there fully clothed, but watching Derek as if he had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

The two men stared at each other, but Derek broke it in favor of grabbing the body wash. When he looked back Stiles was gone and there was a pair of pajamas laid out on the bed. His dirty clothes were gone.

Stiles grabbed Derek's shirt and threw it and the other clothes in the firepit on his way to his section of river. His spark provided several balls of light to help along his way. Setting his towel and new clothes on his dock he stripped out of his bloody clothes. The cold night air pricked at his skin and goosebumps spread along his arms. He accepted the sting of the cold water with a sense of dread.

Derek deserved the world and Stiles was nothing. Stiles' self hate swirling around him like the water sloshing with each of his movements. He grabbed the bar of soap from the dock and began to scrub viciously. Watching the white bar turn a rust color as it worked against his skin.

The fact of the matter was that Stiles' actions hadn't hit Derek yet and when they did the man would disappear. Stiles has once again made a fatal mistake. He had allowed himself to believe, stupidly, that this time would end better for him. He needed to shut his heart down. Needed to accept that he didn't deserve good things.

So Stiles would bathe in the freezing cold water, to drown his boiling emotions. He would silently wait for Derek to start to back away from him. He would focus on killing Kate as he should've from the beginning. He should've taken care of it when he first got here. Should have left the pack immediately. Helped unseen from the sidelines.

Stiles dried himself off, changing into sweats and a loose shirt. Leaving the towel around his neck he walked back into his home.

He stuck his head in and checked on Derek and smiled, even if felt bittersweet. The wolf was snoring softly with Stiles' pillow cuddled to his chest.

He left the man alone and went to burn their clothes. Neither man needed a physical reminder of this shitshow.

He used the flames to make some stir fry, loading up a large bowl for himself and another, even larger, bowl for Derek. He set a stasis spell to keep it warm, sleep then food. Derek was still his mate, he would not neglect his health. He hadn't accepted this Derek's bond as he had the last one. He could leave without causing mate rejection. Was this Derek even his mate? He growled deeply, it didn't matter. He was distancing himself. Let Derek date that bubbly teacher that wanted to walk him to his car. Let him- Stiles slammed his hand down. It. Didn't. Matter. He turned to his food instead.

As he chewed his first bite he pulled out all the papers and maps from the leader's desk. Ordering them first by type; decoded correspondence in one pile, maps in another, and so on.

He finished his food and turned to his wall of white boards and tack boards by the entrance. Grabbing a basket he had stocked for such research. Different color highlighters, sharpies, and dry erase markers took up an entire end; while different colored string, tacks, and scissors took up the other.

Stiles didn't turn when he finally heard Derek come into the living room. He didn't even lose stride in his frantic scribbling on the whiteboard as he spoke, "Food for you in the kitchen."

Derek made a little happy humming sound as he immediately turned toward the kitchen.

"What do the different colors mean?" Derek asked between shoveling food into his face.

"Green is a location clue. Yellow is a person, like here they mention meeting a blonde witch, but this was after Jennifer died, so it's another fucking witch I have to kill. Red is anything to do with Kate, and Blue is just pretty."

Derek sat, happily eating, as Stiles worked.

"Holy shit." Stiles breathed as he slowly stepped back. A black circle around an area of only a few miles.

He turned with wide, manic eyes to look at Derek, "I found her."

"What?" Derek jumped up to look over the information.

"Are you sure?" He turned to ask, but found the room empty.

"Stiles?" Derek called out cautiously.

"It's only 40 something miles through the woods. I can make it before sunlight." Stiles spoke as he reappeared, completely changed into combat boots and another set of dark clothing. He went to his bags, still by the door, digging around to pull out his weapons.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked seriously, trying to get in Stiles' way, but the spark easily side stepped him.

"You are not going to go running through the woods after Kate-"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do. I will kill her. She is-"

Derek held up a hand, "Let me finish. You are not going after Kate alone. We go get the pack and then we go kill the bitch and then maybe you get a decent night's sleep."

Stiles blinked a few times, trying to process what just happened and Derek took full advantage. He grabbed the weapons out of Stiles' hands and loaded them into a bag. Grabbing the map off the wall with the circled location and folded it neatly into the bag.

Stiles watched Derek bounce around the place. Grabbing defensive and offensive herbs. It wasn't until Derek was tying his shoes that Stiles' brain caught up.

"Derek, there isn't enough time. By the time we get the pack together and catch everyone and make a plan, Kate will be gone. She doesn't know her hunters are dead yet. That is our advantage. She thinks she's safe."

"The pack is already at the Den."

"Why?" Stiles asked confused and was even more confused when Derek sent him a sad look.

"Because that's what a pack does, Stiles. They were mourning our loss, usually it's less extreme circumstances, like a business trip, but still puts a strain on the pack bonds. If a pack member is gone for a few days the pack will feel the loss through the bond intensely. Same with injuries. They are going to be there until Noah is healed. They did that when you were in a coma as well. Only leaving to go to school or their job. It was when you woke up that Mom made everyone leave, because she knew you wouldn't want to be crowded."

Stiles couldn't meet Derek's eyes. He didn't know what he should feel and it was so much at once that it just left him angry, so instead of answering he merely nodded his agreement.

The two ran through the forest towards the Hale house. Derek kept stride with him the entire way, though Stiles could still see a little wince here and there as the running messed with the still healing deep tissue of Derek's stab wound.

As they broke the trees the lights were on and the entire pack was in the yard, waiting. Stiles stopped running a few feet from Talia.

"I need your help."

Talia almost didn't let him finish, "Anything."

"I know where she is, but we need to act now."

"Bunker again?" Peter asked, stepping forward, immediately going into left hand planning.

"I don't think so, decoded letters mentioned a Lincoln safe house. I think we are looking for a cabin. You know Lincoln logs and all that."

Peter nodded, "Good. We've been planning for different assaults. Bunker, boat, city, the high school, and house. How big of an area."

Stiles' mouth was slightly hanging open, but after blinking a few times his brain caught up, "uh- yeah. I mean- a few miles in diameter."

Peter's grin was manic and lethal, "Fucking child's play."

"Come, we'll go over our plan inside and you can tweak whatever makes you feel more confident. We have split ourselves into groups. So if you need to see some people or change the plan just refer to us by the group letter, we'll know what to do."

Stiles followed Talia as she turned and his students swarmed around him. Scent marking and showing their excitement to see him. He couldn't meet their eyes, they seemed to understand, which made him feel even worse.

His mother rushed to him as he walked over the threshold to hug him fiercely, "I'm coming as well."

Stiles sent her a worried look, but she ignored him, pretending to look over the papers spread out on the dining room table.

Peter and Talia spent the next hour showing him their own research and eagerly accepting the map from him. Pointing and asking questions when he paused for a breath, explaining his own research.

Stepping out into the night air Stiles could feel the frenzied excitement coursing through the wolves around him. He allowed his misplaced anger at the pack to grow and added it to the Kate pile in his brain. She deserved his cruelty.

The whole pack broke out into a run. The fastests scouting ahead as the strongest stayed by the humans for extra protection.

Peter was in charge of the scouting group, Nick in charge of the brawn group, the humans in a group of their own, Talia and Derek in charge of two other groups. Stiles didn't assign himself to a group, wanting the freedom to jump around where he needed to be.

Peter's group came running back into sight, "It's just up ahead a little to the Northeast. There's definitely people here and one of the cars belongs to one of Kate's aliases we've recently discovered."

Stiles' lethal glee almost overtook him. He could already taste her blood. The warm feeling of it dripping down his chin. His eyes flashed black as Void seconded this motion and flashed back to his own hard stare.

"We go in quietly. Keep an eye out for traps. Both magical and hunter made. Security cameras will be present. Be careful."

The small cabin came into view. Stiles' breathing picked up. Kate was in there. She was within his grasp. She would die today. He would finally watch her life fade from her eyes. Watch her confident smirk fall into a terrified scream. He growled low in his chest softly.

He had barely made it halfway towards the place when light flared to life inside the cabin. Immediately he stopped and saw all movement around him cease. Frantic movement could be seen as people moved past the windows. Stiles was confused, they hadn't tripped anything, how-?

His question was answered by Talia as she cursed under her breath, "After the leader missed two check-ins Kate sent someone to check. She knows they're dead. Knows she's no longer safe."

Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of doors flying open made him look back over. They were headed for the cars. Oh, it won't be that easy, his teeth clenched.

"Shoot out the tires." He softly ordered. He wouldn't allow them any advantage. Shots rang out around him and the loud pop and hiss of air was music to his ears.

Figures ran in different directions, with all their hoods up. Stiles caught a glimpse of blonde hair and took a chance.

"Group A go after the ones that went that way! Group B after the one that went towards the back! Kill them and then come help your brothers and sisters. The humans clear the cabin and grab anything useful then if you aren't carrying anything head to help as well. Group C and D come with me!"

As they ran he suddenly realized where they were headed. Something was wrong.

The group stopped almost in sync with Stiles as they ran out into a clearing. The Nematon sang out to him in worry. He sent a comforting wave out in answer, his spark tugging at him to help.

Stiles turned his focus to the figure staring at them, standing in between the ancient tree and a very angry Stiles.

Kate Argent's arrogant smile flashed his way. Her blonde hair flowing down her back. Stiles' hope deflated.

"Kate," he spoke loudly as he took another few steps closer, "does not need the Nematon for power. A witch does. You are not Kate Argent."

The woman's smile widened, "Such a smart little boy."

Stiles didn't let his face change at the jab as her face wavered and then he was looking at a face completely different.

Stiles knew the second he had laid his eyes on her. Her smile was almost spot on, the intense look in her eye compelling, but they both missed that lethal undertone that warned of a predator.

"You might not be Kate, but you'll die just the same."

The witch's laugh was cut short by Stiles throwing a simple lighting strike her way. He was running before she finished batting the spell away, the sound of his pack's footfalls right behind him.

The Witch turned and ran toward the Nematon, right as another body ran into the clearing from the opposite side. More pack spilled into the clearing behind the hooded figure, one of the other people that fled the cabin had apparently circled around.

Stiles shifted his stride to move towards her, the plan was the group continues, no matter what his actions are. A glance back showed both groups trying to duck and weave their way towards the witch. Distracting her on every side. Slowly overwhelm the magic user and get behind them. Feel the magic in the air, beware of building magic, but eventually there will be an opening. A shock of pride hit his chest. He had taught them that.

His eyes met the other figure. He doubted Kate would come here, but maybe she thought a witch with the Nematon was unstoppable, thinking she'd be invincible. Stiles gritted his teeth, no matter where she was or what power she had, he would make her bleed.

As he came closer he realized it wasn't her either. Just another witch. She bared her human teeth at him as he ran toward her.

"Go help the others in the woods tracking the other three people." Stiles' commanding tone was iron as he slowed to come in front of the woman. The pack turned on their heels and left.

"My Gods will protect me." Her gravely voice was confident, it made Stiles' snarl.

She sent rocks flying towards him, but he pushed out a wall of aura that made the rocks fizzle then dissolve into dust as he charged her.

His fist connected with her face roughly, cutting off her Latin falling out of her mouth as fast as lighting.

He blocked a few hits and spells, but it was obvious this one wasn't much of a fighter.

Stiles kicked out at her face as she tried to start another spell, her yelp sounding distorted from what was surely a fractured jaw.

"You threaten me with your Gods," Stiles let his claws snap into being as he gripped her face to force her to look at him, "Where are they?"

She tried to flail and while he wanted to make it last, he knew he might still be able to find Kate in these woods tonight, so unfortunately his fun would have to be cut short.

"You want to know what's a weird side effect of having a savage ancient being fueling your body?" His clawed nails broke into her skin. She screamed, which made Stiles grip tighter, raising her by her face off her feet, leaving her to flail in mid-air, like she was a fish out of water, facing death, "You start to feel like a God and unlike your silent ones, I can reach out and touch you."

He suddenly slammed her head into the hard ground with all his might. Her screams cut short as he continued to slam her head into the dirt.

He looked around and spotted another group of his pack running through the woods.

"That Kate?" He yelled out, knowing someone would hear him.

"Yes, though she has another witch and hunter with her. They are having trouble with them." Derek's voice supplied behind him, he was out of breath.

A manic chuckle dripped from Stiles' lips and he began to run diagonally, to intercept them. She will die tonight. By his hand or ripped apart by wolves, he didn't care. It would have a sense of poetic justice either way.

He was about to reach the trees when Stiles felt a gigantic magic build up behind him and he changed his course towards Talia, even as he growled in frustration. Stiles told himself not to fret. The pack was still following. If she didn't die tonight her days were still numbered. He had found her once, had her hunted through the woods like the monster she was, he will again.

The first witch had managed to reach the Nematon and sent a spell he didn't recognize toward Talia Hale. Stiles made it to Talia right as the magic had built up to explode out with a deafening boom.

Stiles managed to push the alpha out of the way right as the witches’ bright spell sped towards her. Putting up his arm as he brought up a shield to meet the magic head on.

The added power as she touched the Nematon had energy breaking through. His scream of agony as burns spread up his forearm, spreading out like lighting, rang out around the clearing.

His darkness came to wrap around him like a blanket and the vibrations of the dark magic gave him more strength. His Void and his Spark, his constant companions. His own small pack.

He started to trudge forward, still yelling out from the effort to keep his shield up and the burning pain. Stiles kept stomping his way, feeling her panic flowing through her magic, he pushed his pain and anger toward her. He felt a surge of pleasure as she screamed out.

He could see his pack trying to come closer, but the magic was sparking out and causing the wolves to keep jumping back. His Void could feel their horror and frustration.

The pressure on his arm increased the closer he got and the burns traveled up the entirety of his arm to spread out along his chest and up his neck to lick at his face. His knees almost gave out when he came face to face with her wide terrified eyes. His darkness came completely forward then, his eyes completely black, as it sensed her chaotic emotions. Void wanted a taste.

Expending the last of his energy he slammed into her, forcing his knife into her neck. The force of her connection to the Nematon being severed hit him like a nuclear shockwave, throwing him back across the clearing.

He saw movement everywhere as faces came into his field of view, but his brain couldn’t understand any of it.

A shrill and pathetic sound reached his ears, that of a dying animal, and he was shocked to realize it was him. He was making these inhuman sounds. Why was he making these sounds? The burning. The burning hadn’t stopped and he realized his entire body was shaking. He smelled blood.

Chapter Text

Stiles' eyes snapped open, he was no longer in the clearing. Bright fluorescent lights made his stars appear in front of his eyes. He was being held down now on a hard metal table as his entire body was trying to arch up in agony. His throat burned with the force of his screams. Blurry faces were around him, but he couldn’t see. He could hardly breathe. He brain wasn't focusing on the right things.

“Place the bandages on him! Quick!”

The pain was lessening as he felt a cool wetness all over his arm, neck, and chest. He felt the liquid seeping into his wounds and his body slowly made it back down onto the hard surface underneath him. He was still shaking slightly and it was dead quiet except for his light shudders. His eyes blinking, but not registering.

“What the hell is happening to my son?” Noah’s strained voice rang out and Stiles’ uninjured hand twitched in response.

“Did Claudia not-” Deaton began, but Noah cut him off, “My wife was barely making sense when I saw her, so I’m not asking Claudia, I’m asking you.”

“The Nemeton fueled spell gave him a type of magical burn. It will catch fire again if we don’t find the proper damping agent to completely put out the embers so to speak. This liquid will seep the magic out of the wounds to prevent him from being continually burned.” Deaton’s calm voice spoke softly somewhere.

“But he’s still in pain?” Derek’s broken voice whispered.

Deanton cleared his throat uneasily, “Yes, I’m afraid this won’t take away all his pain, but the overwhelming burning won’t be bothering him as long as we keep the bandages fresh. If we can keep the magical burning under control this will allow the wounds the burns caused over his arm and shoulder a chance to start to heal and hopefully not scar too badly.”

There was a tense silence before Deaton spoke again, “I assure you this is only temporary until we can figure out how to completely drain the magic from his wounds safely. We don’t want to affect his spark.”

“And just how long is that going to be?” Noah gritted out loudly.

“Lydia and Claudia are already working on that, please calm down.” Deaton

“Don’t,” his dad’s voice broke, “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down.”

Stiles' heart broke, his dad was hurting. He willed himself to focus, putting in all his energy for his dad and the room came into focus. Deaton was looking sympathetic and it shocked Stiles that he had a busted lip. Stiles noticed there were more people there than he would’ve thought. Talia had tears in her eyes as her husband held her shoulders from behind, whispering soothingly into her hair. Through the door he could see his students sitting or pacing in the waiting room, Derek was sitting in the corner with his head in his hands, but Stiles focused on his dad who had his hands on the side of the exam table, head bowed, crying.

Stiles opened his mouth to try and talk, but all that came out was a pitiful gurgle. It still had his dad whipping his head up to look at him with wide eyes, both bloodshot. His face still discolored and torn from his time in captivity, a glimpse of bandages peeking out from his shirt.

Stiles tried again, “It’s going to be okay.” His voice was little more than a whisper and he had to breathe deeply afterwards, but he had got it out.

“Oh,” Noah leaned closer, his lower lip trembling as he softly ran a bandaged hand over Stiles’ head, “my brave boy.”

Stiles smiled softly even as he felt his energy fading and he faintly heard his dad call out to him.

“His heartbeat is fading!” Derek’s panicked voice rang out. Stiles heard a flurry of movement, then nothing.

Pain. Bone crushing, life ending pain. His eyes snapped open, but he found he was already screaming. He wanted the nothing again. He wanted the blackness. Anything besides this! People rushed into his eyesight, looking frantic.

“Dip the new bandages in the liquid! Hand them here!!” Derek demanded and not a second later his pain started to lessen. He was left whimpering and shaking as the cool liquid fell across him. He realized he was shirtless with wet bandages draped over his burns. He could feel the soft fabric of sweat pants and his bare feet felt the scratchy sheet underneath him. Sheet? He was in a bed, a pillow under his head, blanket over his legs.

“What the hell happened?” Derek’s growl ripped through the room after a second.

“I’m so sorry, I fell asleep and missed the bandage change. I didn’t mean to!” Laura’s voice was a little shaky.

Derek growled deeply and Laura whimpered, “I really am sorry Derek.”

“Just go.” he bit out.

Stiles felt pressure on his uninjured hand and heard someone settle in the chair beside him.

It was quiet for a while, only the sound of Derek’s wobbly breath filling the room, but then he heard another chair being pulled up on the other side of him.

“Laura called.” Talia’s voice spoke softly. Derek just grunted. Silence took over once more and Stiles was finding it easier to breathe. His whimpers had turned to a quiet wheeze and then finally he took a breath in and found he could with only a slight hitch.

“Are you going to tell him when he wakes up?” Talia asked suddenly.

He felt Derek’s hand twitch in his, “What do you mean?”

Stiles knew that tone. It meant Derek knew exactly what she meant. From Talia’s long sigh she knew this too.

“Everyone knows now, after how you reacted to seeing him go down in the clearing. How you almost killed Deaton when he didn’t immediately know what was going on. Your father and I both had to drag you out of the room when his heart stopped, Derek.”

Derek didn’t say anything, but Stiles felt his hand shake slightly where it was still intertwined with Stiles'.

“I should’ve known earlier.” Talia sounded a bit put out, “How you trusted him quicker than the others. How you reacted after seeing him kiss that witch at the bar. The whole Jennifer incident. The pride you obviously felt when he bested your packmates in training. Hell Derek, you went jogging in the forest more in the hopes of running into him.” She definitely sounded frustrated now, “Jesus! You found his camp without the help of magic like Claudia had to use and then you refused to tell even me the location. Peter of course is strutting around announcing to the whole house that he knew all along, he's become unbearably smug. ”

Derek still didn’t speak.

“Derek,” Talia’s voice became pleading, “everyone is happy for you. Claudia even squealed when I confirmed it, the first time I've seen her smile in days."

Stiles heard Derek shuffle slightly in his chair, bit didn't say anything, "Is-," Talia's voice was small and unsure, "is it something I did? To make you think I'd be unhappy? Because let me stop that thought right now. I fucked up, because I was trying to shield him from more trauma. I genuinely care for him and am overjoyed to have him be a part of the family. Stiles is rough around the edges, sure, but he is loyal, smart, and brave. Your mate is powerful and a survivor. Yes, he has killed, but at the same time he still plays with the little ones, he still reeks of pride when one of you succeeds in a lesson, he brings out a joking side to my brother I haven’t seen since his wife died. Stiles is a good man. So please, talk to me. This isn’t your Alpha, this is me asking as your mother. Why are you holding back from this?”

It was silent as that question hung in the air and Stiles tried to process what he was hearing. A feeling started to spread through his body, a feeling he hadn’t felt in years. A feeling, if he were truly honest he thought he would never feel again. His body wanted to sleep, but he fought to stay awake. Mate. It was true. He was Derek's Mate. He was Derek's. This Derek's. Derek knew what he was the entire time, that bastard. Then Stiles questioned if he'd accepted it if Derek had just told him to begin with. No, he would've run. He couldn't deny it. Even now he's terrified. Derek didn't say anything the entire time though, to anyone. Derek only put his hands on him when he was drunk. All the things that little voice in his head told him started shouting at him. Stiles stopped the all consuming doubt before it could take hold. No, he just heard that he was Derek's mate. He reminded himself of all the dinners in his caves, the times Derek would show up on the weekends to just sit and grade papers while Stiles worked in his herb corner, and Derek hasn't backed away yet. No, he couldn't doubt it anymore, they had grown together and the bond was already there, he'd just ignored it. If he focused he could feel the ghost undertones of it, waiting for them to accept it, bring it into being. They clearly wanted each other. Right? Why hadn't Derek claimed him?

Derek exhaled deeply, “The other Derek, the other me, left him. He hurt him badly. I catch him sometimes looking at me with this distant look on his face and then I smell his grief, longing, and sometimes even guilt. What if he will only be able to see that Derek when he looks at me? Worse than that, what if I repeat those Derek’s mistakes? What if I hurt him? What if I don't measure up in some way?” Derek’s voice was small and sounded so scared it broke Stiles’ heart.

“Oh baby,” Talia sounded like she had tears in her eyes, “you are not that Derek. Stiles knows that. Stiles feels this too, I swear. A mate recognizes a mate, even if they are human. And if you are worried about this, then make sure it doesn’t happen. Give in to what both you and your wolf want, which is nothing more than ensuring his happiness and then take steps to make sure miscommunications don’t happen. Talk to him. Be open with him and let him be open with you. Be his safe space. He deserves that. You both do.”

It was quiet again.

“Mom, he’s in so much pain.” Derek’s voice was strained and cracked.

“Not for long, we are so close to finding something! It won’t be long now.”

Derek released a shaky breath and it was then Stiles realized Derek was crying.

“Oh, Honey, how’s your wolf handling everything?” Talia asked sympathetically.

“It feels like we’re dying. Every time he fucking does this. How many times can my wolf and I handle watching our mate die?” Derek’s voice was strained.

“Do you need me to get Deaton? To get you something?”

“No! He needs to keep focusing on Stiles!” Derek sounded panicked.

“Okay, okay.” Talia quickly reassured him, “I just wanted to know, because I know you aren’t leaving and after Laura falling asleep on the job I don’t know if you will sleep now either. I just don’t want you to run yourself into the ground. I would say you would have to deal with me, but I think Stiles would be the one to worry about.”

They both let out soft wet chuckles and stiles felt Derek's grip get a little stronger on his hand.

“But honestly Derek, you being here is helping him and we need you healthy. He needs you to be healthy.”

Derek let out a sad sigh, “Mom, he doesn’t even know I’m here. How can you say he feels anything for me? How can you say I’m helping? I feel fucking useless.”

“Honey, Stiles has been through so much, has lost so much. He isn’t going to show something as intimate as who he feels a deeper connection to with us, especially after I fucked up. You have to think about it from his perspective. We don’t know exactly what happened with the other Derek, but we know he was hurt, deeply. We don’t even know if that Derek told Stiles what he was to him. As werewolves we understand that a mate will be the same in any dimension, in any timeline, in any past or future lives. Stiles doesn’t know this. Hell, Stiles might not understand that you want him at all. As for you helping him, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed his body relaxes when you’re near. Right now his body thinks it’s dying, which honestly without this treatment it is. So, even when he is unconscious his body is on high alert, but when you are here he breathes deeper as if he can sense that he’s safe. A mate knows, baby.” Talia spoke with soft confidence.

Derek scoffed quietly and Stiles felt Derek start to pull his hand away.

Stiles reacted without thinking, gripping Derek’s hand tightly and whimpering loudly. Derek’s hand was immediately back in his and Stiles felt his body relax once more.

Stiles didn’t care that he couldn’t explain it, he should be more wary of accepting Derek as his mate when it didn’t work out well with the other Derek, but he felt the vice around his heart loosen without his permission. This Derek has proven time and time again how different he was. Stiles was so fucking scared. Please don't let this be a coma dream or some shit.

If Stiles had a chance with this man he would take it. Derek, back in his world, ran from this because he felt too broken. Stiles was now the broken one, but he wasn’t going to make Derek’s mistake.

He didn’t know if he deserved this second chance or that he was the best thing for this Derek, but Stiles found he would strive to deserve him everyday, instead of running. He was going to try to smooth any anxious thoughts in Derek’s head about them if it was the last thing he could do.

Talia was right though, Stiles knew this man gripping his hand tightly wasn’t the other Derek. He wasn’t the broken self sabotaging Sourwolf from his world. This is a man that Stiles felt like he could lean on. He didn’t know what this Derek could possibly see in him, all he knew was Talia was right, they needed to talk.

“Shut up.” Derek spoke, but he sounded happy.

Stiles was confused until- “I didn’t say anything.” Talia defended, but Stiles could hear the smirk.

“Though, I will say you certainly don’t have a typical mate.” Talia sighed happily.

“I’m proud of him,” Derek spoke with conviction, “Everyone, when they saw his scars, were a little afraid or pitied him. I saw him for what he was. A warrior. A survivor. A protector. The whole reason he is training us is because he wants to protect us from threats, but also from loss. Loss he has felt over and over again.”

“He saved my life,” Talia said softly, “That’s the first time I’m saying it outloud, but I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your mate.”

“I know.” Derek’s voice was low and strained, “I haven’t even begun to try to unpack how I feel about all of that.”

Stiles’ arm started twitching, his breathing started to pick up, and he felt his veins throb painfully.

“It’s starting again, quick, pass me the soaking bandages!” Derek shuffled to his feet and Stiles whimpered loudly as his hand left his.

Then the fire in his body flared and tears started falling on his face. He was gasping for breath as his body tried to physically move away from the pain, but found he was restrained to the bed. His pulse skyrocketed and his eyes snapped open in panic. He frantically tried to move against the restraints, now yelling out. His mind went to dark places, of other times he slipped into consciousness only to find himself completely helpless and trapped. Gerard Argent’s basement, Theo’s magic draining chains, Kate’s drug born paralysis. He was fighting for his life again. He didn’t know what was happening anymore.

“Derek, he’s just knocking the bandages off, we need to calm him down.” Talia’s voice was frantic.

Stiles was grunting, trying not to scream as more pain and panic traveled through him.

Suddenly there were hands on his face and Derek was talking to him, but he couldn’t make the words out. He tried to jerk away, but Derek just kept talking and Stiles felt a hand running through his hair.

He whimpered and leaned into Derek’s hand in a silent plea to feel safe again.

“Tell them to stop. Tell them to let me go. Please.” Stiles' thick voice begged, past suffering rising like bile in his throat.

“Oh, god!” Talia breathed in understanding, “It’s the restraints mixed with the pain. It’s the restraints. He thinks he’s back- back- Derek his scars. It’s the restraints.”

“I’m here, okay?” Derek's strong voice floated into Stiles’ brain, “You need to calm down. We had to tie you to the bed, because you would thrash around too much if we didn’t. You are safe. No one here is going to hurt you. Please calm down for me.” Stiles’ movements slowed, but kept jerking violently.

"That's it. You're safe. I'm right here. you're hurting yourself. I need you to calm down."

Stiles struggled to obey. He was with Derek. He was safe. He was safe. He was with Derek.

His body was still shaking with tears falling onto his pillow and he couldn’t control his whimpers, even as he felt the cold wet bandages being laid across his skin. His pain lessened, but he couldn’t fight off the remaining panic at being restrained.

Derek continued to talk to him and stroke his hair, to the point Stiles could actually unclench his fists. Stiles willed himself to focus onto Derek’s face.

Stiles came fully back, staring into those hopeless looking green eyes that had haunted his sleep for years. He could tell when Derek saw Stiles was actually present.

“Stiles?” Derek froze, looking at him like he couldn’t believe it.

Stiles smiled weakly, “Hey Big Bad.” His voice came out barely above a whisper and he noticed how dry his mouth was.

Derek teared up in relief, “Shut up.” he chuckled wetly.

“Here.” Talia suddenly passed Derek a glass of water. Stiles went to reach up for it eagerly, but his wrists caught on the restraints. He looked down at the offending leather straps with a frown on his face, another spike in his heartbeat as he was reminded.

“I’m sorry, but you were injuring yourself with the thrashing around you were doing.” Stiles looked into the clearly tired face of Talia Hale.

He nodded and allowed Derek to help him drink from the glass. Once his touge wasn’t scratchy anymore he looked over toward Talia, “Are you okay?”

Talia laughed tightly in surprise, “Are you serious? Am I okay?”

Stiles didn’t look away from her and just waited, Talia sobered under his gaze, “I’m fine, none of the magic touched me.”

Stiles sighed in relief and his shoulders relaxed, then looked to Derek who was still staring down at him, “What about you, Big Guy?” Stiles blinked weakly up at him and he saw Derek swallow thickly before he answered, “I’m okay. Everyone else is okay. No lasting injuries. We’re all just wanting you to get better now.”

“What’s happening to me?” Stiles' jaw clenched as his arm twitched in pain. He closed his eyes as he concentrated on breathing. He felt the pain lessen and he smirked, “WorryWolf, you know there’s too much pain for you to take all of it right?” He slowly opened his eyes to look at the pained expression Derek was sporting, facing the amount of pain coursing through Stiles’ body.

“I’m okay, Derek. No point in both of us being in pain. I can take it.”

Stiles made sure to keep his small smile, even as he felt the pain surge back full force, but he saw Derek wasn’t fooled.

“Think of your wounds as a special type of chemical burn,” Talia spoke from her chair and Stiles turned his head to look at her, “one that won’t go out with a simple thing like water. We have this concoction that works as a magical drain, meant to seep magic from wounds, but it isn’t powerful enough to take all of it from yours, so after a while the magic builds back up to a full blown fire. Especially if the liquid is older and has already been fighting the magic for a while.”

Stiles hummed, “That's why the pain comes in waves?”

Talia nodded, “Claudia, Lydia, and Deaton are all trying to find a way to neutralize the magic permanently.”

Stiles nodded, but his eyelids were starting to fight him.

“Go ahead and rest, don’t worry, we will figure it out.” Derek sat down, smiling slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I trust you.” Stiles breathed out as he blinked over at the man, but then his eyebrows furrowed, Derek looked like absolute shit, “When the hell is the last time you slept?” Stiles tried to glare and even though it was pitiful Derek still shifted uncomfortably.

“He hasn’t left your side.” Talia casually said, as if she was bored, as if she wasn’t completely throwing her son under the bus, while flipping through a folder she had pulled from her bag. Stiles had looked over when she spoke, so he missed the lethal glare Derek sent his mom, one she easily ignored.

“How long?” Stiles’ croaked out weakly, his energy fading.

“Five days so far.” She whispered, thinking he was asking because of how long he’s been in pain, and she sent him an ashamed grimace.

Stiles’ eyes widened only to look at Derek with a disapproving glare.

Derek sighed heavily, “Shut up.”

Talia stood up, closing her folder, “I’ll go grab some food for him.”

“Thank you.” Stiles said, but didn’t look away from Derek, missing the small smirk on her lips.

“You wanna explain that?” Stiles asked angrily while Talia left the room, even as his body screamed for sleep and his voice turned raspy.

Derek ignored him and instead brought the glass of water to his lips. Derek tried not to laugh at the picture of Stiles glaring daggers over the rim of the glass, as he slurped.

“Go to sleep, Stiles.”

“Not until you do.” Stiles spoke firmly, even as his head was getting heavy.

“Stiles, shut up, you’re exhausted.”

“Come lay with me.” Stiles’ voice slurred as he fought unconsciousness.

“Stiles, you're tied to both sides of the bed, there’s no room.”

Stiles’ darkness surged forward to keep him awake and he knew it showed on his face. Derek froze as the inky pulsating blackness circled around his entire eye and spread out around Stiles’ eyelids. It made his eyes look sunken and his skin deathly pale. Stiles dropped his eyes to avoid seeing the look of disgust or fear on Derek’s face. The last time Derek saw him like this a good amount of people died in horrific ways.

Derek reached out tentatively to touch the discoloration and if Stiles had more energy he would’ve jumped. Derek looked fascinated, which confused Stiles greatly. He remembered what he heard, but everyone ran away from his darkness, hell even he wanted to run from it at times.

“Okay,” Derek breathed. He moved to undo the restraint on Stiles' uninjured side, “I’m keeping the other one on, I won’t let you cause yourself more pain.”

Stiles just nodded slowly and gingerly scooted over once his wrist was free to make room for Derek.

“Go to sleep, Stiles.” Derek commanded into Stiles’ hair as he settled in beside the already fading man.

Stiles' life was a blur, he had no idea how many days passed and he had little to no moments of consciousness again. He did remember the pain. So much pain. It would always ebb to a throbbing pulse after a while, and a calm soft voice would reach him then. Reassuring him that he wasn’t alone.

Fire. He was on fire. No, correction, he was dying. His screams broke through the fog of his own brain. He could tell he had already been screaming before his consciousness broke through into reality. Other voices broke through as well.

“There’s no more potion!” Issac’s terrified voice rang out.

“Who was supposed to refill it?” Erica bit out.

“What does that matter now?” Jackson spat.

“God, Derek is going to kill us.” Scott groaned close by.

“Lydia is running to get some more, grow a pair, McCall.” Jackson spoke further away than before, like he was pacing.

A thunderous roar rang throughout the room and it was immediately quiet except for Stiles yells that were still bouncing off the walls.

“Where’s the fucking liquid soaked bandages?” Derek growled.

“Lydia ran to get some more.” For all of Jackson’s bravado, he sounded like he was a second away from whimpering.

There were hands on his face, trying to wipe the sweat and tears from his body and a voice whispered in his ear, “I know it hurts, but I’m here. I got you.”

Stiles’ forced his mouth shut to stop the screams from escaping, but instead pain filled grunts and moans wrenched from his throat as he writhed on the bed.

“You drugged me,” Derek’s voice was lethal and Stiles heard several pairs of feet backaway, “and I came to, to the sounds of my mate’s screams. Do you have any idea what that could feel like? How painful and terrifying?” his voice broke.

“Do you have any idea how much pain he’s in? Why don’t you come touch him, let your wolf howl in agony when that level of pain enters your body.” Derek’s voice took on a manic note.

Silence filled the room again, leaving only the sounds of Stiles thrashing and sobs, even as he focused intently on his mate’s voice.

"Talia said you weren't sleeping." Erica, of course, was the only one brave enough to speak up.

Derek growled deeply, "I mean nothing, do you understand me? You are focusing on the wrong person. This man’s training is the only reason all of you made it through that battle with no lasting injuries. He is the only reason our pack isn’t in turmoil over the death of our alpha and how do you thank him? By drugging his mate, ensuring I’m not by his side, and then not checking to see if there was more liquid dampener after the last application, leaving him to deal with feeling like he’s burning alive. He’s fucking dying right now! Do you not get that? Without that dampener he is burning to death.”

Derek was breathing hard, anger rolling off of him in waves, “Fucking pathetic.”

Stiles heard another roar of frustration and what sounded like Derek punching a wall.

Stiles wheezed as his eyes snapped open, panicked that Derek had hurt himself, even if the logical part of his brain was telling him that he was a werewolf and Stiles himself had hurt him worse than a single punch to a wall could. The pain wasn’t allowing logic into the equation though.

Derek was there in a second and he apparently misread why Stiles was panicked, “It’s okay! I’m so sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad at you, okay? I’m right here. I got you.”

Stiles wanted to explain, but the pain was too much and all that came out was a weak mumbled, “Please.”

“Where the fuck is Lydia?” Derek growled.

Stiles’ scream broke out again as the burning reached a new height, and he felt his skin split along the seams from the original burning. He smelled blood.

Stiles felt his old bandages being removed quickly and heard several people exclaim when they saw his wounds, but as the air touched his sensitive skin he arched completely off the bed as his muscles spasmed and lights appeared behind his eyes from the pain.

He could hear panicked voices and movement but he couldn’t make his brain work. He couldn’t focus on anything else than the overwhelming pain running down his body. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even really see anymore, all he could do was scream. His screams ripped from the very depths of his chest. He was screaming for Derek. He was screaming as an uncontrollable terror overtook him from the pain. But more than anything he was screaming for it to end. The pain or his life, he didn't care in that moment.

He then felt someone forcing liquid down his throat and he felt all levels of magic get violently cut from him. He felt violated and frail. He felt hollow. He had a different type of pain now, not burning, but stinging and slicing pain coming from his wounds. Worse than that was the gaping hole in his soul, in his very being. His spark was the only thing that has never left him and now he couldn't feel it's comforting weight. He tried to reach out for it but he found no energy to do so. There was no reassuring hum inside his veins.

Silence as everyone held their breath, waiting to see what happened. Stiles let out a shuddering sob. He felt cold and small.

“My spark.” Stiles wheezed into his pillow as he tried to roll into a protective ball, but the restraints still around his wrists prevented him from turning completely onto his side. His body shook slightly from the pain and the shock of his magic being ripped suddenly from him.

“Scott?” Derek asked quickly.

“Shit, that was a magic canceling potion Deaton showed me, I thought it would work against his wound’s magic, I didn’t think about- about-”

“Great,” Boyd spoke up, much nearer than Stiles would’ve expected him to be, “now not only did we put him through extra pain, caused his wounds to reopen, but we ripped part of him away without any warning and left him feeling defenseless while restrained to a bed.”

Stiles sobbing into his shoulder as he desperately tried to curl in on himself. His brain screaming to protect himself.

Derek was wiping Stiles’ tears away gently as he spoke softly, trying to calm him down. Stiles would let Derek think it was solely because of him that his yells of grief stopped, but Stiles’ energy was fading fast. His entire body was shaking even worse now and breathing seemed like a chore. It was becoming too much. Black dots appeared in his vision. His mind became light and hazy.

Derek was still stroking his face and softly urged him to roll completely on his back once more. Stiles whimpered loudly and his heart beat wildly in fear as he curled into an even tighter ball.

“Hey,” Derek was soft and kind, “Stiles, look at me.”

Stiles struggled to pry his eyes open, his breaths leaving him in shallow wheezes. When his eyes did open he took in Derek’s tear stained face and pleading eyes. Stiles felt his own face crumple at the sight, but then Derek was giving him a small wobbly proud smile when he saw Stiles manage it, “Hey, there you are. I need you to turn over so I can clean you up.”

Stiles shivered in fear, “My magic.” His terrified eyes looking for answers in Derek’s pain filled ones.

“Do you think I would let anyone touch you? That I would let anyone close enough to hurt you?”

Stiles didn’t hesitate, “I know you wouldn’t”

Derek swelled a little, “Listen to me. I swear from this point forward it’s just going to be me and you. No one falling asleep and missing a flare up, no one forgetting to check how much liquid is left. I will be right here. I will not eat any food anyone else brings me from this point forward,” he sent a hard glare at the group of people that Stiles honestly had forgotten about, off to the side where Stiles couldn’t see, “I will not sleep anywhere else. So please let me help you.”

Stiles was still shaking, but rolled onto his back, fists held so tight they were white. Derek moved around to stand on his injured side, between him and the other people gathered there, to slowly start to clean the trails of blood running across his skin.

Without looking up from his work Derek bit out so lethaley that even Stiles flinched, “Get. Out.”

They all listened to him, except for Boyd, who handed him a roll of new bandages and scissors, and Scott who held out a different large bottle of liquid to him, “For pain and infection. Since we don’t have to worry about the magic for a little while.” he supplied.

Derek nodded at them in thanks, but his face was still hard and cold. They would have a lot of making up to do for him to forget about this.

Stiles had to close his eyes to try and get away from the pain, but then he felt Derek’s hand on his non-scared hip, his arm stretched over Stiles’ body to reach, taking his pain. Stiles opened his eyes as, for the first time in who knows how long, he was completely pain free. Tears pricked his eyes at how euphoric the feeling was.

He turned his head to take in Derek’s furrowed eyebrows and upset features as he struggled to cut the bandages into strips one handedly. Stiles was about to make a smart ass comment when Lydia came in looking scared, carrying a large container of blue liquid. Derek didn’t even acknowledge her and she quickly scurried out.

Derek placed the white gauze into the green liquid Scott had given him, the sound of sloshing liquid filled the small room. Derek had to move a little, which caused his hand to slide up Stiles’ side and Stiles’ breath hitched at the feeling.

This beautiful man was his mate and this Derek actually wanted him. He was taking care of him so carefully. It made Stiles feel a warmth grow in his chest. Derek’s head turned quickly in concern at the change in Stiles’ breathing, thinking that something was wrong.

Stiles just gave him a genuine full, but tired, smile and he saw Derek’s shoulders relax and the deep creases in his forehead lessened in severity.

Derek looked back to the bowl and he had to move further away to grab some more of his bandage strips, his hand moving along Stiles’ stomach. Stiles, riding his no pain high, groaned softly at the feeling of having Derek’s hand slide along his skin. Derek once again turned to him in concern, but Stiles’ saw when Derek smelled his arousal. Shock and then the biggest smirk took over the handsome man’s features.

“Really?” Derek asked playfully.

Stiles didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed, “I can’t help it. You going all Alpha is hot.”

Derek’s jaw clenched and his eyes turned a bright gold.

Stiles smirked, his voice coming out hoarse and raw, “Figures, the other Derek liked when I called him Alpha too, though he'd never admit it.”

Derek started gingerly laying the now soaked bandages onto Stiles’ skin and Stiles breathed out a deep sigh of relief at the cooling effect.

“Can I ask what was between you two? You and the other Derek. The other me.” Derek asked, focusing on his task. Stiles paused as he thought about how much he should say. He didn’t want to drive this Derek away, but he wanted to create an open and blunt communication with the man. With that he resolved to be completely honest.

“I don’t know.” Stiles spoke, “At first we didn’t trust each other and I’m pretty sure I got on every single one of his nerves. I thought he killed someone and accidentally got him arrested, but it turned out to be Peter all along. I chose Scott's pack over Derek's, because Scott didn’t want to be in Derek’s pack, but our paths kept crossing.”

Stiles was blankly looking at the plain white wall on the other side of the room, “I mean like all the time. One of the first times was when Kate Argent shot him with a special kind of wolfsbane bullet and I stayed with him while Scott went to get another bullet so we could cancel out the poison. Another time Derek was on the run from the law and he hid out in my room, until we could prove his innocence. Then there was when Derek stepped in to save me from an out of control beta, his beta, but still. A tipping point for us was when Derek was paralized by a kanima and- well it doesn’t really matter how, but we ended up in a pool and I held him up for two hours in eight feet of water so he wouldn’t drown. The freaking lizard was just prowling around the edges.” Stiles laughed lightly, “All while we yelled at each other. When I knew there was definitely something more between us was when Jennifer came around the first time and had Derek under a spell, a love spell of sorts, but when I came to him saying she was the one that kidnapped my dad, he believed me. Even though he was under a spell, he believed me. God, looking back there were so many times we relied on each other.”

Stiles breathed deeply and noticed that Derek was standing completely still, “Then I found out I had become Derek’s anchor, he used to rely on his anger and guilt to bring him back, but instead my face started popping up when he couldn’t find his way. What pushed me over the edge was when I thought I saw him die in front of me. He told me to go save Scott, but I found myself stopping. Hesitating. I found myself wanting to stay with Derek, but he told me to go and I listened. When I found out he was alive I- I told him-” Stiles cleared his throat, “well it doesn’t matter-” Stiles sat frozen as memories overtook him.

“He scowled. I cried. We yelled. He told me the many, many reasons we couldn’t- that he couldn’t-” Stiles swallowed and his hands twitched, “But not two weeks later he was climbing into an suv with a woman and leaving town. Fucker wouldn’t answer any of my texts or calls. I got together with Lydia around a year later, but neither one of us-” Stiles sucked in a frustrated breath.

“Anyway, I didn’t realize all the other werewolves could tell that there was something more between me and Derek until he was gone. As he was climbing into the car, everyone turned to look at me. As if they realized my entire world was willingly driving out of my life. They each would randomly show up at my house to ‘just check in’ for months afterwards. In their defense, I kind of broke down. Put a wrench through the windshield of Roscoe, got into a fight with Scott, got drunk… a lot. I didn’t have healthy coping mechanisms, but I really didn’t care. My darkness and Mate Rejection Syndrome were bitches to control. It didn’t help when Kate Argent showed back up looking for him and only found me pathetically curled up in his long vacant bed. She gave me a lifelong reminder of that night.”

Derek’s eyebrows pulled together so Stiles gestured to the jagged words on his abdomen and Derek stared down at the words as if they carried a whole new weight.

“Those words are meant to be about me?” His voice was hoarse.

Stiles shook his head, “Those words are meant to taunt a person who never saw them and the whole statement is wrong.”

Derek looked confused, “You’re a purebred,” Stiles chuckled, but Derek didn’t laugh, “and I never fucked Derek. It doesn’t matter. It was a tipping point for me. I called him to tell him to be on the lookout for Kate. I told him-” Stiles stopped as he clenched his fists, “and he still didn’t show back up.”

Derek swallowed thickly.

“I picked myself back up though, working out more, training my spark to its limit, learning different ways to fight. My friends didn’t know what to do with the new Stiles. I didn’t ramble on as much, I didn’t trust, and I definitely didn’t give all of myself to anyone after that. Even when they were a goddess on this Earth like Lydia Martin. Though she was also dealing with her own Mate Rejection Syndrome, so while we both loved each other, it wasn’t-. I did everything I could to tell myself I didn’t need him.”

Stiles looked over at the pain filled eyes of this Derek and smiled sadly at him, “He ran and I had to figure out how to continue on.”

“I’m not one to run away from anything.” Derek said firmly.

Stiles smiled fondly, “That’s because you are a completely different person Derek.”

Derek’s small shy smile melted Stiles’ heart.

“How did you know he was your Mate?” Derek mumbled his ears bright red.

“I did some research with Lydia after he rejected me. The pain was… too intense. Then Deaton confirmed everything when he was helping me after Kate carved me up. I will never forget how frustrated he sounded when he told me. Only time I’ve seen that calm exterior crack. ” Stiles smiled, but then his face fell, “Mate wasn’t enough for Derek though.” Stiles muttered darkly.

“You said I wasn’t him and I told you I don’t run away.” Derek leaned closer.

“We did say that, but that begs the question of what am I to you?” Stiles asked tightly, he remembered what Talia and Derek said, but he needed to hear it. He needed to hear Derek saying it.

“You are... everything. Too many things that I can't accurately sum it up. If I am the moon, you are my sun. I only shine from your light.” Derek whispered.

Stiles went to reach up to the other man’s face, but hissed in frustration when he was once again stopped by the leather restraint.

Stiles growled looking down at them, “Did I tell you how much I fucking hate these?”

When Stiles looked back up it was to meet gold hungry eyes and then Derek’s lips were on his. With his hands still tied he just tried to keep up. Stiles was lost to it. Teeth scraping along Stiles’ bottom lip had him whimpering, craving more.

Suddenly Derek pulled back growling and twirled to the door, blocking Stiles’ view. Stiles heard the ruckus of people running into the vet building even as he groaned in pain as Derek’s hand left his body. Bright lights appeared behind his eyes and he was having trouble breathing. After the glorious feeling of normalcy the pain felt like it punched a hole in his gut. His head fell back against the pillow and his body started to shake.

Derek’s wolf came full force to the front at Stiles' pain and when Talia, Deaton, Noah, and Claudia clambered into the doorway he roared threateningly. All four people froze and Talia subtly ushered the others behind her.

The pain was growing in Stiles’ body and he tried to fight the whimpering, but he knew Derek could hear his erratic heartbeat.

“Derek?” Talia softly called and tensed even more when all she received was a threatening growl.

“Darling, I need you to calm down. Alan needs to look at Stiles.” This apparently was the wrong thing to say because Derek crouched into a defensive posture as his claws snapped out.

“Derek, stand down.” Talia commanded, flashing her eyes.

Derek didn’t even flinch, he just growled deeply and bared his teeth.

Talia couldn’t hide her shock, realizing that her son truly wasn’t with them at this moment and the situation was worse than she thought. She didn't know what the kids didn't tell her, but she knew they didn't tell her everything if Derek was openly defying the Alpha pull. For the first time ever.

“Okay, okay” Talia raised her hands a little shakily in surrender, “We aren’t going to come closer. We are just here, because the pups called me.”

All four newcomers jumped when this caused Derek to roar loudly again.

“Derek,” Talia started shakily, “Honey, we are here to help Stiles. We don’t know what happened, just that his wounds apparently reopened. Please tell me what happened.”

Derek’s whole body shook and while Stiles had no idea what Derek’s face looked like, Talia's face softened.

“Tell me what happened, baby.” Talia’s voice was barely above a whisper, and Claudia and Noah were looking a little scared, still huddled behind her. Deaton was looking around the room in curiosity.

“They drugged me.” Derek’s voice was little more than a growl.

Talia tensed and her eyes turned to their bright red, “They what?”

“Put something in my food, it knocked me out. I woke up to hear-” Derek’s voice broke and a sob broke out. Stiles whimpered loudly at the sound, trying to push his pain away to help calm him.

Talia fidgetted as she fought the urge to comfort her son, but didn’t know how moving forward would be perceived.

Derek came back to his human form as he turned to look down at Stiles’ pain filled eyes and sweating brow. He placed his hand on Stiles’ cheek, taking his pain. Stiles sighed as he became comfortable again, leaning into Derek’s hand. It was silent and Stiles slowly let his eyes close as the members slowly made their way over.

“His screams were awful mom. I woke up in a completely different room and all I heard was him- his screams- and when I came into the room he was surrounded by people. I didn’t care that they were my packmates. I almost killed them. I almost killed them all.” Derek’s voice was faraway and Stiles struggled to stay conscious.

“I might kill them.” Talia muttered darkly.

Pain shot up Stiles arm and it jerked violently as he groaned.

“It’s starting again. I guess the magic canceling potion Scott shoved down his throat wasn’t that strong.” Derek said hurriedly.

“The what?” Deaton snapped.

When Derek just nodded Deaton grumbled about extra tests needed to be done now to check on Stiles spark. Derek made a move to bring the blue liquid container closer to the bed.

“Here, I can get it.” Claudia’s soft voice sounded off near Stiles’ feet.

Derek growled lowly only to gasp and quickly apologize.

“It’s okay, dear.” Claudia didn’t sound offended, “If it will calm your wolf you can take care of it.”

Derek sighed in relief, “Thank you.” Stiles felt the damp bandages being peeled off and then the familiar coolness of the new bandages touched his skin.

“No, we should be the ones thanking you,” Noah spoke up beside his wife, “You have been taking very good care of him.”

“We are very happy that you’re his mate, by the way.” Claudia said and Stiles could hear her soft smile.

“I am as well.” Derek whispered and Stiles knew he would have that soft embarrassed smile.

“I was telling him that he needed to tell Stiles when he wakes up.” Talia said exasperatedly, “So stubborn this one. I mean how can- Derek, why are you blushing?”

Silence.

“Derek?” Talia asked with much more glee.

Derek huffed, “I did.”

“What?” Claudia squealed lightly.

“What did he say?” Talia sounded like she was about to explode.

“Not much,” Derek said uncomfortably, “you guys showed up kind of in the middle of it.”

“Well shit.” Noah muttered.

Chapter Text

Stiles’ eyes shot open as pain jolted him back to reality. Gasping deeply as the burning was back full force.

"Listen to me," Derek was speaking forcefully to him and he tried to let the words filter into his brain, knowing it must be important, "we found what we needed. You need to drink the potion Deaton made to trap the magic and then, this is going to be the hard part, we are going to have to inject you with adrenaline. This will mix with the potion to force the magic out of you and it should cauterize the wounds as it exits. This is going to be painful though, Do you understand?"

Stiles just nodded shakily. Derek moved back as Deaton stepped forward to force a foul tasting concoction down his throat. He coughed violently and then whimpered as Deaton shoved a needle into his injured arm. His heartbeat picked up and his arm burned so bad that Stiles didn't know where he was. He didn’t know who he was. No, he didn’t know what he was.

No, Stiles knew what he was. He was ancient knowledge. He was pain personified. He was power itself.

He heard yelling. Pain vibrated through his body. Pain? No, power. He heard Derek yelling for everyone to run. To get out. Stiles didn't know what was happening. Inky blackness is bleeding through his vision and he feels himself being slammed into a wall. Another yell for everyone to run.

Growls filled the air, fear turned into basic fight instinct. Stiles' pack shielding their Alpha.

It wasn't until he heard Derek yell out in pain and that he was able to snap back into reality. Stiles blinked as the picture around him didn't make sense. Derek was watching him cautiously and called his name softly.

Stiles realized he was standing and he had something shoved against a wall. Holy shit, he had Derek shoved against a wall. Stiles’ had his teeth bared and was growling softly, he stopped immediately.

He started panicking as he looked the man over quickly, "Are you okay?" Stiles' voice was tight and gravely. He realized his hands were gripping Derek's shirt and shoulder tightly, even as they shook violently. There were still black veins invading the sides of his vision. Derek nodded, but didn't say anything as Stiles forced his hands to move to either side of Derek's head on the wall instead of holding him in place.

"I'm so sorry." Stiles rasped but Derek just shook his head and ran his hands over Stiles' hard face.

"The adrenaline let my darkness out completely didn't it?"

Derek nodded, "Can you move? The adrenaline should wear off soon." He continued to run his hands over Stiles' face and through his hair, soothing him. He looked concerned.

"If I move anymore I am scared my control will slip."

"Everyone else is out in the parking lot safe." Derek comforted and stiles just blinked, breathing deeply.

Stiles felt his shaking calming as the chemicals started to leave his system. He rested his forehead against Derek’s and let a small sob escape his lips. He was crashing, but Derek easily caught him as his legs gave out and held him steady.

"You're going to be okay now." Derek's breath brushed against his sensitive skin.

Stiles moved his head to Derek's shoulder, turning his face into the man's neck as tears fell down his face, "I could've hurt you."

Derek lifted his head back up, wearing an awed little smile on his face as he asked, "That's what you're worried about?"

"There's no one left in the building right?" Stiles asked and Derek just nodded confusingly.

Stiles softly brought his lips to Derek's, as he had little energy for anything else. Derek sighed happily, his touch just as soft.

Stiles broke away slowly as his energy gave out, his head falling onto Derek's shoulder.

"I got you." Derek spoke softly into his hair as he held up Stiles enough to drag him back to the bed.

When Stiles woke up again it was to find the pack all around him. His parents moved forward to hold him, Claudia shot Deaton a lethal glare when he tried to move them so he could perform his check up.

Talia laughed wetly, "Come on, Claud, let Deaton check Stiles' vitals."

Claudia didn't look happy about it, but did move a foot away to allow Deaton just enough room to scoot by her to Stiles' side.

No one said anything as Deaton ran test after test. Stiles hissed as Deaton's fingers probed at his sensitive scars.

"Unfortunately, these will scar, but the important thing is that you're alive and your spark is fine. The biggest thing right now is we need to keep the skin hydrated. I will give you some things to boost your immune system and an ointment that will need to be applied two to three times a day. I also need you to be on a special diet just like when you woke up last time and I will add a special additive to your water, because you will be drinking a lot of water. Both will help get your nutrition levels back up to a level I'm more comfortable with. I will write all this up for you and you need to work your arm slowly, I'll print out a list of simple excerises. I will also want you to stay for a few more days while I do a special balm treatment to jumpstart all this. We can see how well you respond after a week and see if we can skip some steps or change how long I want you to do these things."

Stiles waved the man off as he looked over to his injured arm, seeing for the first time the raised jagged lines from the lightening carving into his body. He missed Deaton's unimpressed exasperated look and then Derek's reassuring nod when the veterinarian turned to look imploringly at him.

"You look badass."

Stiles smiled brightly as Scott plopped down in a chair beside him.

"Oh, no, no, no," Talia's voice rang out, "I told you that you all could stay while Deaton gave his tests, but now all of you are late for school. Derek, make sure these idiots get to their classes."

Derek chuckled a little as he started to usher the complaining teenagers out of the room.

"I'll be back this afternoon." He said over his shoulder, his eyes finding Stiles questioning ones. Stiles nodded, even as he found he was a little uncomfortable as the door shut and Derek was out of his sight.

"It'll get easier. It's because it's a new bond."

Stiles met his mother's happy eyes and she sighed as she gently took his face in her hands, making sure to not touch his scars going up his neck, "My strong son," her voice soft and revenant, "I know it's not fully formed, just a weird feeling in your chest, but it is growing and when it snaps into place it will be beautiful."

Stiles' shrunk in on himself a little, "I've felt it before. When- when-" he looked back up with fear and questions dancing in his eyes, "and then he- it was so painful- I can't- I-"

He was cut short by his mother softly shushing his anxiety, her eyes filled with the sorrow of a mother who can't fix their child's pain, "He isn't going anywhere. Your father and I aren't going anywhere. Anyone else can go fuck themselves. That includes any other versions on Derek Hale."

Stiles let a small surprised chuckle fall past his lips and Noah chuckled as Talia raised her eyebrows at Claudia, even as she fought a smile.

"I love you, my little mischief. I'm so happy you are free of that magic. I'm sorry we couldn't find anything sooner."

Stiles reached out to take one of her hands as he shook his head, causing her to smile softly and bring his hand up so she could softly kiss it. She had already watched her bright and innocent young child wither away and disappear. Now nothing more than a heavy memory. She was holding the hand of the son of a Claudia who couldn't be there for him. In all the universes he could've landed, he landed in hers. The overwhelming love coursing through her solidified that a mother's love couldn't be contained by a simple thing like death or universe. Every child should feel that and her heart broke that her own son had to go without the last few years, but she sent a thank you to the dead Melissa. Knowing that not only her son, but her husband were loved as they should've been.

Deaton worked on Stiles arm for close to an hour. Working a balm into every scar and then wrapping his arm and chest back up. Talia left when Deaton did, both expressing their relief that he was on the mend.

Leaving the Stilinski family in the room alone. Noah sat down heavily in the seat Scott had vacated earlier.

"I have a bone to pick with you." Noah sent Stiles a severe look. For the next hour Noah lectured Stiles on how dangerous it was to break into a bunker filled with armed hunters and then to not even get him started on letting yourself get electrocuted. Claudia was a little apprehensive about how their independent son, who hadn't had to answer to anyone for years, would react, but she shouldn't have worried. Stiles silently took each exasperated sigh and hard look with a small smile on his face and a fragile love in his eyes.

Noah breathed deeply after he was done and then gently hugged his son, "Don't scare me like that, kid."

Not one mentioned the way he had to wipe his eyes as he settled back into his chair.

As the family continued to talk a peaceful calm settled over them. There was no threat knocking at the door. No werewolves listening in. Even Stiles' Void settled contently inside him.

Claudia watched Noah throw his head back and laugh as Stiles watched the action in fascination. Both men deeply breathing in the other's presence after being deprived for years. Claudia sent a silent Thank You to the universe.

Chapter Text

“Ready to go home?” Derek asked as he locked the back door of the vet’s office.

Stiles nodded and held out his hand not confined by his arm sling. Deaton had relented on not leaving all the bandages on him, but the man apparently didn't trust Stiles to not over work his arm muscles and insisted Stiles wear the sling for a few weeks.

Derek smiled softly and instantly let his fingers slide between Stiles’ waiting ones.

In the Camaro Stiles snuggled back into the soft leather, but raised his eyebrows when Derek pulled off on a new and unfamiliar dirt road.

Derek cleared his throat uneasily, “The pack may or may not have given your home a make-over. Including your own driveway.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say but his mouth fell open as the long driveway gave way to a giant circular ending where a lot of cars were parked. Derek, however, pulled off into an actual parking spot beside Roscoe. Stiles got out and took in the now unrecognizable area in front of his cave.

There were three picnic tables among the trees, a giant inground fire pit with wooden benches and chairs around it. There was a short rock wall around the entire area and a small shed further off to the side. A random basketball goal nailed to a tree out of the way and the ground was paved and painted for a half court basketball court.

Stiles turned in shock to Derek who shrugged, “The younger people of the pack, me included, always wanted a more relaxed and free setting than the Pack Den to flee to and they all love you. They were banned from seeing you after their stunt, so they turned to other measures of trying to take care of you. Once the other members of the pack found out, it turned into an almost full renovation. They should’ve asked, but by the time I heard about it- well please don’t be too mad at them.”

Stiles shook his head,”I’m not.”

Even if he was, the blinding smile Derek gave him would forgive any overstepping of boundaries. If Stiles could keep that smile on Derek's face he would jump through any hoop.

Stiles stepped forward to take in the new shape of his cave. There was now an unnatural flat wall a few yards behind the natural spring, with a thick iron and cedar door set in the middle. He saw several runes engraved into the wood and he swelled with warmth that his pack wanted to protect him.

The overhang from the original cave covered what Stiles realized was now meant to be a front porch area between the natural spring and his door. There were potted plants, rocking chairs, wooden animal carvings hanging from the overhang, lawn gnomes, a wolf totem pole, wolf and fox statues hidden amongst the greenery everywhere, and- Stiles laughed loudly- two bright pink plastic flamingos.

“Those were actually Jackson’s contributions.” Derek said, smirking at them.

The walkway over the natural spring was still there, just with added handrails, and Stiles walked over it to open the door slowly.

“He’s going to be here soon and we need to have this settled by the time-”

A loud cough from Derek cut Talia off mid-sentence and everyone seemed frozen as they turned to watch Stiles look around in shock. He didn’t recognize his house.

The main room was now big enough that there needed to be three stone pillar supports. The floor was covered in mismatched rugs, but Stiles found he loved it. There was now a long natural wood dining room table with a large treliske carved in the middle towards the back of the room, mismatched chairs around the perimeter. A large iron chandelier positioned over it. The bottom of which had a thick band of iron with embossed wolves running through the woods.

Over to his right there was a large grey sectional and an all natural wood coffee table. A giant flat screen and some game consoles underneath. A built-in bookshelf to the side of the tv showed DVDs and video games, the bottom shelf showing his chess board and some other board games and jigsaw puzzles. The wall along the right side of the room was built in bookshelves now and then a section for two whiteboards and a three tack boards.

To his left was a skinny long table along the wall with his record player and record storage. The kitchen opening was still the same, but there was now another opening where his barstools sat, taking the place of his shelf he made what felt like years ago. He could see a new retro looking fridge and a copper sink.

The opening to his bedroom now had a door and was in the same position off to the left, but now there was an opening further along in the corner. It was most definitely an indoor greenhouse and magical work space.

In the back right corner his herb counter was no longer there, instead there was a large hammock right under a sky light. Speaking of skylights there were now four large ones and deep red, but thin fabric draped from his ceiling.

Behind the sectional there was his weight bench and a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

There was a new opening to a hallway between his boards and built-in bookshelves on the right wall.

His mother surged forward to greet him in Polish and the tension seemed to seep out of him. He hugged her to the best of his ability, whispering in polish that it was too much.

She pulled back and assured him, still in polish, that a lot of what was brought in came from old properties the Hale’s owned and didn’t cost them anything. He didn’t know if he felt any better.

To everyone’s surprise it was Issac that stepped forward next, “Do you like it?”

The look of pure hope on his face had Stiles smiling softly, “This is unbelievable. You guys really didn’t need to do this.”

“Shut up, we know. Besides, it’s more for us than you.” Erica smirked, only to be hit playfully by Scott.

“Come check this out!” Scott said and he threw an arm around Stiles as he brought him more into the room, “Those game consoles are actually mine and Jackson’s, but that just means you’re going to have to deal with us more since we know where you live now. Over there,” he pointed to the large table, “that was actually pulled out of storage. There was a choice between another table and that one, but we all thought you’d like this one better. Now we have a place for study sessions and Derek can grade papers here.” Scott wiggled his eyebrows at him causing Stiles to roll his eyes.

Laura grabbed him next, “We have a fully stocked apothecary back there,” she gestured to the indoor greenhouse, “and then all the skylights are equipped with that glass where we can see out, but no one can see in. Then we all brought some books and records to add to your very poor collection if I may say so.”

Cora ripped him away before he could answer and started to usher him down the new hallway, “These are your guest bedrooms!” She laughed loudly at his incredulous face, “Calm down, we were thinking about how if shit goes down then we know of a safe place we can crash if need be,” he felt his shoulders relaxed, he knew how important that would be. "Or we just don't want to go home." She was smirking, but Stiles thought about Issac not having to be scared of his father anymore, Boyd and Lydia having a place where they felt loved instead of tolerated, or Jackson and Erica needing a place to be themselves. He found he was okay to offer that, despite their tendency to be idiots sometimes.

His mouth fell open when he took in the circular room this short hallway led to. There were bean bags, a few comfy chairs, and a writing desk. A tack board on the wall showed the kids’ training schedule and someone had already tacked up the lacrosse and basketball schedules as well. Around the circle there were easily fifteen more doors. They each had a label that had him walking around reading some of them.

“Porsche Lounge?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Jackson called dibs on this room.” she explained and he laughed loudly.

“True Alpha Suite.”

“Scott. He’s been a little cocky since he found out he was a True Alpha in another universe. Not that he would ever let you know that.”

“Bathroom, storage room?”

“There is a smorgasbord of anything you might need for guests. Extra blankets, toothbrushes and other hygiene products, a lot of first aid, and other things like that.”

He nodded as he carried on, “The Twin’s Den, Catwoman’s Cave, Future Alpha Oasis, The Fiercest Hale’s Arena?” He raised an eyebrow down at her.

“Though she be small...” Cora shrugged.

“Scarf Man’s Hideaway?”

“Issac. He missed the naming meeting.”

They laughed loudly.

“Come on, you must be hungry. We have food ready.” Talia stuck her head in from the hallway.

Stiles ate as his eyes wandered around with a small smile on his face. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits. He loved it, but he had to admit he was exhausted by the time everyone left.

He was settled back into his new couch as Derek walked Talia and Nick to their car.

“Claudia wanted me to tell you she walked the perimeter for you, everything is stable. She said you’d understand.”

Stiles smiled softly at the man as Derek locked the door and turned to him. Derek froze when he saw Stiles’ small smile, but easily met it with one of his own, “You okay?”

Stiles nodded, “Just processing.”

Derek sat down facing him, “You hate all this don’t you?” he gestured around at everything.

Stiles' soft smile grew as he shook his head, “If this had happened a couple months ago I would’ve been furious.”

“But not now?” Derek leaned on his propped up arm, looking at him with a happy smile.

“I have never experienced what a true pack felt like. We were running around so much, praying we would make it through the next day. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this, but I have my parents back, a pack surrounding me, all my old friends are alive, and a mate that I can depend on. I was scared that this would all be taken from me again or that you all would discover that I didn’t fit into your lives. Now I’m afraid I’ve gotten used to you all and I really am a selfish creature.”

Derek’s smile grew and at some point had reached out to lightly play with Stiles’ uninjured hand.

“How is your arm?”

“No pain, just a little stiff.”

Derek nodded and kissed his hand lightly. He turned the tv on and handed the remote to Stiles, “I’ll be right back, go ahead and rest here.”

Stiles flipped through the channels and settled on an episode of scooby-doo. Not the least embarrassed about it. Derek for his part didn't mention anything when he finally came back into the room.

"Come on." He kissed Stiles' temple and he easily picked up the tired man in his arms.

Derek carried Stiles into his room and sat him on the edge of the bed. Derek then disappeared from his field of view. It took Stiles longer than it should have to realize he was sitting on one of the softest mattresses he'd ever experienced. His hands ran over the beautiful deep cream comforter as he turned to look at a beautiful headboard. It flowed naturally with the rock around it and two forest green pillows sat at its base.

He looked around and his room was laid out the same. His closet looked bigger though and he had nightstands on either side of the bed now. The fireplace had a mantle over it and a desk had been placed over on the wall. What really took him by surprise was his bathroom. Through a wide opening he could see a long counter with two sinks in it and another built in set of shelves on the left side of the opening with what looked like fluffy towels.

Derek walked out from the right side of the opening and smiled lovingly at him.

"I'm going to help you out of your clothes now." Derek said as he crouched down only to laugh breathlessly when Stiles smiled excitedly.

"I didn't mean like that. Do you even have energy for that?"

"For you? Anytime, anywhere."

Derek's ears and neck darkened, even as he smiled happily and pulled Stiles' sling gently off.

"Well I didn't mean it like that."

Stiles just nodded, not putting up too much of a fight, because he really didn't have the energy for that, but would try to keep up if Derek wanted to.

Derek was so gentle with him as the rest of his clothes were stripped and taken to a hamper that Stiles felt a little light headed, or maybe he really was that exhausted.

Derek picked him up again and started walking to the bathroom, "Do you need to go to the restroom?" Derek nodded toward another door Stiles hadn't seen beside the linen closet. He nodded from where his head was resting against Derek's shoulder.

He was lowered on the toilet and Derek left, shutting the door to give Stiles more privacy.

Stiles sighed as he was finally able to pee. When he flushed the toilet Derek was opening the door again and picking him.

That was when he saw the other side of the bathroom. The entire other wall at the end was the natural grey rock of his cave, but texturized different colored glass blocks formed a partition over where he knew his shower was, blocking it from view. He could see the large rain shower head on the ceiling over the glass blocks, but what caught his eye was the giant natural wood soaking tub. The wood was thick, gaving the tub a lip of about a foot all the way around. There was water waiting and Derek gingerly Lowered him into it. Stiles felt his entire body relax as the warm liquid sloshed around him.

Derek slid both of his legs in on either side of Stiles’ shoulders as he sat on the lip behind him. His pants rolled up to the knees and he had taken his shirt off.

Stiles wondered how he had gone through life without a mate as Derek massaged shampoo into his scalp. He couldn’t help but turn his head and plant a soft kiss on the side of Derek’s knee beside his head.

He moaned loudly when Derek went about kneading the knots out of his neck and hummed happily when he felt the softest kiss press down onto his shoulder.

When the water was turning cold Derek unclogged the drain and wrapped Stiles into a giant towel, "A fluffy fox burrito", as Derek called it. Taking a smaller towel to dry his hair.

Stiles was helped into soft sleep pants and sat once again on the edge of the bed. He watched as Derek rubbed the thick homemade balm onto his injured arm and sighed deeply as Derek rubbed it in firmly, his muscles responding immediately and loosening. The lightning-like scars were still tender, but it was nothing like it had been.

Once that was done Derek went about putting things away and then helping Stiles under the covers.

Derek quickly plugged his phone into a charger on the nightstand closest to the door and Stiles realized that Derek had laid him on the more protected side of the bed, furthest from the door. His heart swelled again. He was something to be protected. Derek shut the lights off and that familiar faintest Amber glow over took the room.

The bed dipped as Derek joined him in bed and even though he had no energy left Stiles snuggled into him instantly. Shoving his face into Derek’s neck and scenting him.

Derek let out a pleased rumble from his chest and Stiles felt a clawed hand run through his hair. A pleased smile overtook Stiles face as he realized he surprised Derek enough that his wolf surged forward in possessiveness.

Stiles lifted his head to kiss the man and was not disappointed when Derek answered him at every turn.

"Go to sleep my little fox." Was mumbled against his lips and he was happy to oblige.

The next morning Stiles woke to an empty and cold bed. He tried not to panic and rolled his eyes at himself.

He was acting crazy and like a child. This Derek said he didn't run. He needed to trust that, but he found he kept having to repeat it as he got himself cleaned and dressed. Finally sliding his sling into place.

He walked out and stopped in his tracks. There were people in his house. Boyd, Erica, Issac, Lydia, and Jackson were all milling about. Each one a kid he suspected would gravitate here more and more, but apparently that was already a ship that sailed.

"Good morning!" Issac called happily.

"Good morning children who don't live here." Stiles deadpanned as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Derek said we could stay as long as we didn't wake you." Lydia said with a soft smile as she helped him pour his cereal after he struggled with it one handedly.

"Thank you."

She beamed at him.

"We didn't wake you, right?" Issac looked concerned as he came to sit at the bar.

Stiles shook his head as he currently had a mouthful of captain crunch.

"Have you guys eaten yet?" He asked, concerned.

They all just shook their heads and shrugged. He pulled his eyebrows together as he eyed them all, particularly Issac with worry.

"Okay." He stated and he gave in fully to his mothering ways. He slid his sling from his body.

"You're not supposed to use your arm." Erica surged forward.

He sent her a reassuring smile, "My muscles are strong enough that I can take care of my pups."

He had turned to the pantry so he missed all of their faces glowing at him calling them that, even jackson.

"Pancakes, bacon, and eggs all sound good?" They nodded eagerly and he gave them each a task. Jackson smiled proudly when he was given the task of choosing the pancake add-ins. This is how they ended up with chocolate chips and small marshmallows added to the batter.

Stiles eyed Isaac's dirty hair and vowed to talk to Derek about having Issac either move into the den or his room here. Stiles had to stop himself from picturing the many ways he could kill Isaac's father and make it look like an accident.

Taking up the plates and smiling when Lydia volunteered herself and Jackson to clean them.

"Thank you." He smiled at them, then turning to Issac he sent a heavy glare to the boy, "As for you, go take a nice long hot shower and then get some rest."

Issac fidgeted, "You don't have to worry about me."

Stiles moved around to lead the boy to the guest area, "Did you not just hear me? You are one of my pups and I will not have one of my pups tired, hungry, or uncomfortable."

He turned to look into those wide eyes he thought he'd never see again, "You have a room here. That door is always open to you. You are safe here. There is food in the kitchen, fluffy towels and all the toiletries you could ever need. When you get out I will have some extra pajamas laid out on your bed."

Issac let his mask fall and the true level of his exhaustion shone through. Stiles squeezed his arm softly and then made his way back to the living room.

"Erica, if you get mud on my brand new coffee table from your shoes I will kick your ass next training session."

Chapter Text

The next few days were a little bit of a blur as Stiles seemed to not be able to stay awake for very long. Derek softly reminded him that his body had been literally dying for over a week and then was jolted back violently into the world of the living.

"Besides," Derek spoke into Stiles' hair as he held the smaller man between his legs on the couch, "sleep means your body is taking the energy needed to heal. Your spark needs rest and so do you. So, please let yourself heal. I need you here."

Stiles didn't know what to say so instead snuggled closer in the hope that Derek understood by the action that he would. As Derek released a soft relieved sigh Stiles felt his chest loosen even more. Of course Derek understood.

Then, as if out of the depth from the dark pit he had thrown it, a deep sadness welled up inside of him. The other Derek could've had this. If he could have just accepted it's soft touch. Sometimes when all you know is the rough touch of rejection and failure the soft comforting touch can terrify you, because all your sharp edges and rough sandpaper soul could fray and rip it. People that have found their soul left in sharp splinters never want to be the reason that soft touch turns coarse. Funny then that their cautious and bitter ways lead to that end anyway. Stiles understood, but he wished that Derek allowed happiness to touch him. True happiness.

Not for the first time an image of what their life would've been like danced through his brain. Derek softened when they were alone. That rare smile would be on display more and more. Those red alpha eyes shining down at him as Derek came down Stiles throat.

Now, though, it expanded to what the rest of their life would've looked like. Jennifer died from Derek ripping out her throat with his teeth. Peter and Chris getting a little too excited at the firing range. Lydia not getting stuck with him, but instead building something real. Liam is protected and able to be a kid. His dad and Melissa share unreserved laughter with the pack gathered in their kitchen. Scott- Scott with his arms around Kira, kids running around their legs. Kira smiling up at her husband as he looks at the baby in her arms, the small baby's hand wrapped around his larger finger. All Scott's fears about being like his father were soothed by the healthy family surrounding him. Stiles is still the lanky man, with that mouth going a mile a minute. Even if problems came along, as they always did, they would solve them together.

"Come back to me." Derek's small voice and touch to Stiles' hand almost made the spark jump.

"I'm here." Stiles' voice was thick.

"No you aren't," Derek stated softly, no judgement or accusations in his tone, "you were back there."

Stiles sighed as he couldn't lie to the man, but Stiles instead let his body once again relax and his breathing even out, even as a light veil of sadness still draped over him.

"I'm here, big guy." Stiles repeated as he forced himself back into the moment.

"Can I help?" Derek's unsure voice made Stiles' heart clench. Derek spoke as if he didn't know Stiles would want his help.

Stiles rolled over to look at the beautiful man cuddled against him, "You have already helped so much."

Stiles brought his lips to touch Derek's softly, the man humming happily at the attention. Stiles moved up to straddle the man as he slowly deepened the kiss. Stiles almost shivered at the feeling of Derek's hand sliding up his back to his face.

It was when Stiles nibbled on the flesh of Derek's lips that Derek pulled back. His face slightly flushed and his chest rising and falling a little quicker.

"You need sleep, not that, right now."

Stiles whined even as he brought his lips to kiss Derek again, feeling the other man's smirk at the sound. Grumbling loudly when Derek brought the kiss to a stop again.

Stiles started teaching his kids again. They were putting in double the effort. Listening without question. Yet another apology for their fuck up.

Derek and he would eat at the Den more, Talia herself loading his plate. Nick got up to refill his drink before he was even halfway done with it. Stiles would find his weapons cleaned or random ammo in his backpack when Peter handed it to him after class ended. His mother or father came to spend time with him when Derek was at work. Deaton even called him randomly to conveniently say he had received too many supplies and if Stiles took them he would really be helping Deaton out.

Lydia was really the only one in his old pack that had his back. He was used to being the mom. The strong caring one, that protected everyone. He now associated that with love, feeling like something was missing or people didn't love him if that aspect wasn't there. That being said, a small warmth settled around him with each new instance of this pack providing for him.

Derek had jumped from Roscoe as soon as they'd parked in the large front yard on their first day back at lessons, yelling that he needed to change clothes. Stiles' mother came up to him and hugged him gently. Pulling away she kept a soft hand on his injured arm still wrapped in his sling. He didn't want to wear it, but it made Derek's worry lessen, so he kept it on.

He felt his muscles loosen a little and a soothing effect flow across his scabbed wounds. He looked questioning at his mother's shifty and slightly guilty look.

"I wasn't supposed to use my magic in healing you." She whispered in polish, "Deaton was worried adding more magic could cause another catalyst since we don't know what spell she used. He is worried one wrong spell and any miniscule rimenites of the magic will awaken. The Nematon is too powerful to ignore such worries. He didn't even want me or him around you while you were fighting that magic from fear we'd make it worse. He wanted to find a more natural way of healing you, but-" Claudia looked a little more stubborn and sure of herself, "you have the magic out now and I know your spark is still tender, but I think Deaton is being an idiot. Not that I think your safety is something to not be cautious about, but I can't just-"

She was cut off when Stiles brought her in for another hug, he couldn't help the smile sprouting on his face. When she pulled back tears were freely falling down her cheeks, "Hold still."

Stiles felt his spark sing happily as power seeped into him, his magic greeting his mother's readily. He was so caught up in finally feeling his old friend back to almost full strength he didn't immediately realize how much his mother was handing over. When he saw her flinch he forcefully shook free from her grasp, glaring at her in confusion.

"Deaton," she whispered as sweat gathered across her forehead, "said I couldn't use magic to heal you, but I thought about it and he didn't say anything about soothing your muscles or jumpstarting your spark."

She looked so proud of herself, but Stiles growled, "You gave me too much."

Worry immediately filled her face, "Do you feel ill?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "I feel fine! You on the other hand are now left weakened."

Tension immediately seeped from Claudia's body, "Oh," the word leaving her mouth in a relieved huff, "nothing a good nap won't fix. How's your core?"

Stiles debated slightly, he was overjoyed as his spark fizzled under his skin for the first time since the magic left him, but he was still worried and angry his mother would exhaust her own stores for him. Finally he pursed his lips in acceptance, "My spark is finally singing again."

Claudia's smile was blinding and Stiles let his grateful smile spread across his face. Both sparks slowly made their way to the house to start the training session.

Another development was Derek was trying to kill him, Stiles decided. He couldn't come up with another reason Derek would put him through this. Stiles was trying his hardest to get into the man's pants, but Derek would always pull back. No matter how many times Stiles tried to add some heat to their make out sessions he was always kept in check by Derek in some way.

Stiles had climbed into the werewolf's lap the other night, kissing along his neck and nibbling his jaw. Derek's hands had gripped Stiles' hips, his head falling back against the couch's cushion. Derek was panting and enjoying the attention, until Stiles ground himself against the other man's erection. Stiles' mate had slowly brought Stiles to his lips, calming the mood.

The other morning Stiles had climbed into the shower, slowly lathering that tanned skin with body wash. Derek had turned toward him, the water rinsing the soap off as Derek lifted Stiles into his arms. Stiles' back had hit the side of the shower as Derek's lips ran along Stiles' collarbone. Stiles closed his eyes as he felt Derek's hard dick slide along the bottom of his thigh. Next thing Stiles knew he was being softly sat back down onto his feet and Derek was stepping out of the shower.

Stiles now refused to wear his sling and his scars barely made his arm twitch if you touched them now. He had been sticking to those damn exercises and Deaton's diet. Something was going on that Derek wasn't saying. Stiles shook his head, he would try to be patient.

A month passed before his very eyes and stiles had begun asking Derek if everything was alright. Asking if he was happy. Each time Derek would smile happily and say that everything was fine, he was happy. Then graduating to out right asking Derek why he was pulling away. The only answer he was given was because Stiles was healing. When Stiles pointed out his wounds were now scars and Deaton himself said he was good to train again as long as he took it easy, Derek waved it off, pointing out that Deaton said to still take it easy. Even the news that Kate was seen across the country by another pack wasn't enough for Derek to calm down.

Another whole fucking month passed and Stiles was staring at Derek naked as the day he was born picking out an outfit for the day. Stiles didn't even try this time.

At the next pack dinner he was quiet and drifted away from Derek when the man was talking to Peter. He had shut off his scent so everyone wouldn't catch onto his self loathing, crippling self doubt, and overwhelming anger and sadness.

He wasn't upset Derek and he hadn't had sex yet, did it suck? Yes, but that wasn't where his emotions went haywire. Derek said he didn't run away from things, but this felt like another form of running. Stiles didn't know what he did wrong. Why wasn't Derek being honest with him? They were mates for fucks sake.

He made his way to the small bar set up on the far side of the kitchen. Finding Laura already there.

"Want another?" Stiles asked, holding up the tequila with raised eyebrows when he noticed that Laura was staring grumpily down at her empty glass.

"I need a girl's night." She suddenly stated turning sharply to look at him, her face set into a pretty pout.

Stiles' shoulders sagged with relief, "Oh my fucking God, can we please have a girl's night?"

Stiles and Lydia would have girl's nights all the time, sure they ended with Stiles roughly fucking Lydia on his kitchen table, wall, shower, or whatever surface was closest, but the before was a typical girl's night. Drinking, maybe going to dance worry free, maybe a movie marathon, shit talking, face masks, and food.

Laura's eyes lit up, "Wait, really?"

"I could really use one too." He let his face scream his sincerity and let a small amount of his chemosignals out for her to smell. Laura's eyes nearly bulged out of her head and her hand came to grip his unscarred arm in worry. He cut his scent off once more and smiled his mask smile he had down to an art.

Laura's eyes screamed her own pain, but Stiles could see the blatant worry for him there as well. Her hand fell away and she minutely nodded her understanding. He didn't want to get into it here, neither did she.

"Sooner rather than later I think?" She spoke softly.

Stiles nodded happily, "Tomorrow?"

Laura's lip caught between her teeth, "You know, Jordan will be working late tonight and I don't have to work for the next two days. Do you have anything tonight?"

Stiles smirked, "I'm legally dead, so my schedule is pretty flexible."

Laura smirked impishly, "Then we are both free! I don't want to be around anyone else though. I need space to be frustrated."

Stiles' eyebrows raised in surprise, maybe they were facing something similar, "I have a lovely spot in the preserve I found that I wanted to camp out at."

"I happen to have a tent for just such an outing." Laura spoke lightly, "I also have an overwhelming amount of alcohol."

Stiles smirked, "I make an excellent bonfire and I have some absolutely amazing weed."

Laura blinked stunned before she bent over giggling, "Oh my god, I am going upstairs to pack."

Stiles smiled as he watched her quickly make her way to the stairs. The smile slid from his face as his eyes ran along the dark wooden railing. He fell from there. He almost died here. He did die here. He died to get here. Fuck he needed a drink.

As he poured another double whiskey for himself a gentle touch on his back signaled the arrival of his Mate.

"Everything okay?" Derek asked.

Stiles ignored the question, he didn't want to outright lie, "Laura and I are going camping tonight. Need some girl time."

Derek's eyebrows furrowed in adorable confusion, "Tonight"

Stiles downed the whiskey as he nodded, then turned his head flirtatiously, "Unless you had special plans for me later."

Derek chuckled, "I need to catch up on some grading anyway. Go, have fun with your girl's night. I'll be waiting for you when you get back." Derek kissed his temple as Laura reappeared with several bags thrown over her shoulders.

Stiles had a war going on inside of his brain. On one hand he had a mate that allowed him independence and didn't question when he wanted to go camping in the middle of the night randomly. He had a mate that kissed his temple and knew his body language enough to know when he got into his own head. On the other hand he had a mate that didn't want to fuck him or talk about why he didn't want to fuck him.

"Come on you two." Derek chuckled as he took some of the bags from his sister, loading them and her into the back of Roscoe. Stiles let the siblings banter back and forth, his thoughts going more and more haywire. The longer he thought about it the stupider it sounded in his head. He didn't have a right to be angry, did he? He knew what it felt like being ignored except if they wanted sex. He wasn't doing that was he? Was he pushing?

Once he parked the jeep he quickly bounced out and strode to the door, the sounds of the Hales still bickering fading as he closed the door behind him.

He grabbed a sleeping bag, some food, first aid kit, and some herbs. One for the fire and one for their entertainment. He was changing into his hiking gear when two arms wrapped around him.

"I'm going to miss you."

Derek's hot breath brushed past his ear and Stiles couldn't help the clench in his stomach. He struggled, he should be happy to be receiving the attention and knowing his Mate will miss him, but a different part of him, the petty part, couldn't help but ask, miss what? Nothing ever happens.

He pushed that thought away and instead said, "I'll miss you too," turning around in the taller man's arms he smiled softly, "You won't be too scared of the dark without me here to protect you?"

Derek smirked and leaned in to softly kiss him. Stiles couldn't help it, he leaned into it and wrapped his arms around Derek's neck. He could feel Derek's hands running down his back.

Stiles slid his hands from their hold around Derek's neck to back them up until Derek's back hit the wall, causing Derek to moan into his mouth. Stiles slowly slid his hands up under the button up shirt hiding his Mate's body from him. Derek growled into his mouth when Stiles ran his nails down his stomach to stop along his pants line. He just managed to get the button undone on Derek's jeans when Derek pulled back. Stiles shut down immediately and stopped as Derek's hand covered his.

"Laura is waiting for you outside."

Stiles' face had morphed into a blank mask and he released Derek as if he'd been burned. In a way he had.

"Of course." He nodded, "I'll see you sometime tomorrow."

Derek didn't say anything as Stiles finished tying his shoes and headed to the front door. Derek leaned in to give him a peck on the lips and Stiles allowed it. Stiles didn't return Derek's wave though as he and Laura made their way back down the driveway.

Laura was already on drink two just for the ride over when Stiles pulled off to the side of the road.

"How far?"

"About a mile and a half that way." Stiles pointed and grabbed his bag and tent from the back.

"Oh thank God, it's close." Laura giggled as she grabbed her bags from the car.

She passed Stiles a flask as he started to lead the way. They leisurely made their way, not bothering to watch their noise level, neither in a hurry. Talking about anything and everything as they passed the flask back and forth. When they reach the small clearing Laura hummed happily, "This is perfect, Stiles."

Stiles smiled at her approval, he had found this when he had exiled himself. It was a small plateau, the sides rocky, but sloping. It was relatively hard to get to and if you didn't know where to go, you would completely miss it. The best part was the view, even at night the moon light outlined the sharp edges of the trees on the surrounding mountains.

Stiles went to gather wood while Luara set up the tent, a little slower than normal as she was already feeling the alcohol flowing through her. It still didn't take them long to make their camp into a cozy site. It helped that Laura was supernatural enough to be able to lug a giant log they could use to lean against by the fire, but also human enough to bring an entire bag full of blankets and pillows.

With each new drink opened another round of giggles would fill the air. Both friends enjoying the stress free environment and the freedom to be unedited. Stiles laughed so hard his eyes watered when Laura gave a whole speech about rolling a joint in her mother's voice.

"I haven't smoked since I was a teenager." Laura giggled as she watched Stiles tighten the joint before lighting it.

"Sometimes alcohol is needed to punch you in the face, other times life calls for a gentle caress instead." Stiles said as he passed it to her.

"And that's what you need right now? A gentle caress?"

Stiles smirked as he stuck a marshmallow on a stick, "As you know, we are doing a combination of both."

Laura snorted a laugh, reaching out to trade the weed for the marshmallow stick. She hummed happily and did a little happy dance as the gooey goodness entered her mouth. Stiles watched with a soft light happiness at seeing her enjoy herself.

"So, what do you need?" Stiles asked, passing back to her as he stuck his own marshmallow into the fire.

"In life?" Laura verified after a long inhale, her voice coming out tense as she held onto the smoke.

Stiles nodded as he blew out his snack, shoving the goo into his mouth happily.

Laura blew a raspberry as she looked up to the stars, "I'm having a delima."

Stiles hummed as he turned slightly to look at her better. Showing that she had his undivided attention.

"Jordan got his first big bust the other day, well he told you about it the other night."

Stiles nodded, Jordan had busted a car that had turned out to be hauling over 500 grams of cocaine hidden in the side panels and seats. His father and Jordan had been investing long hours in processing everything and partnering with the DEA to try and find bigger fish. Stiles had been happy for both of them as they had been given both official recommendations and written about in the paper. All of that being said, Stiles hadn't begun to consider how those long hours would've affected Laura.

The woman sighed, taking another long pull, "I am so proud of him and I don't want to make it seem like I want him to put me over his career, you know?"

Stiles nodded again, keeping quiet, letting her talk it out.

"It's just, when he's not there the bond is screaming out for him. Sometimes he will spend the night at the station instead of coming home and going over 24 hours without seeing him or his physical touch is painful. I feel like I can't tell him this though, because I don't want him to think he can't focus on work and keep me happy. I just- I just want him home." Her lip quivered slightly and she shuffled closer to Stiles. He didn't hesitate to bring her closer, wrapping his arms around her, allowing her to snuggle into his chest.

"Why haven't you claimed him, give him the mating mark, then the bond will settle."

Laura mumbled grumpy into his shirt. Stiles chuckled, "Sorry, didn't quite catch that."

"It has to be during the wolf moon in January. It's tradition. Beginning of a new chapter and all that shit. It also prevents hasty claiming for non mates. In years past it's a big run with the whole pack, but when a person is being added to the Hale clan, or family, then it is a special moon run where only the mates run. So, this coming year you and Jordan will run into the forest with a head start. It is the Hale wolf's Job to track our mate down. To prove we are physically capable of taking care of them. To find them if they are lost. On that night is when the Hale will mark their mates and the new members will officially be a Hale."

Stiles stayed silent for a long time, this was the first time he was hearing of this.

"Derek didn't tell you, did he?"

"No, he didn't and before you ask we didn't participate in anything like that back home."

"This is your home." Laura spoke quietly, but firmly.

Stiles ignored that, "So, this run is basically a marriage?"

"It used to be, but like I said, it is more tradition than an official marriage now, but it does solidify the bond and your place in the pack."

They sat in silence for a while, Stiles absently playing with her hair, while she slowly ran the tips of her fingers along his forearm. Both accepting the physical touch like a thirsty man would water.

"If it hurts like this just because I don't see him, how- how did you survive a rejection?" Her soft voice made his hand rubbing her back pause.

He breathed deeply, "I didn't." His voice was barely audible, but he knew she heard when she gripped him more tightly.

"But we have mates, both of us. We have people that understand us and love us. Plus the sex is amazing." She giggled into his shirt.

Stiles pulled the last bit of the joint and cashed it against the bark behind him before sighing into Laura's hair, "We haven't had sex."

Laura sat up, her hair a little messed up from her nuzzling him, but he almost laughed at her confused pout.

"What do you mean you haven't had sex?"

"Oh, I've had sex before." Stiles groaned as she punched him in his shoulder.

"You know what I mean, you ass."

Stiles chuckled, "I mean your brother and I haven't done the nasty."

Her nose wrinkled adorably in disgust, "Oh my god, please don't remind me we are talking about my brother."

Stiles laughed loudly, which caused her eyebrows to furrow dangerously, only to smooth out as concern overtook her again.

"Let me smell you."

Her soft command had them in a, actually rather calm, stare off. After a minute he clenched his jaw painfully. He kept his face blank as he lifted his glamours. He watched her nostrils flare as his scent came back and her hand twitched violently as his pain was allowed to be felt.

"Fucking hell." Laura grumbled, "How are you functioning?"

Stiles looked into her lost eyes, "The other Derek rejected me. This pain is nothing in comparison."

"Fuck Derek!" Laura shouted angrily.

"I'm trying to!" Stiles yelled, laughing when she started hitting him, calling him gross.

They distracted the other from their individual pain and frustration, until they were laying in the tent. Their bodies buzzing pleasantly and their minds floating from their various substances.

"You should go sleep in the station with Jordan." Stiles slurred slightly, meeting Laura's droopy eyes.

"I don't want to interfere." Laura looked sad and Stiles hated she felt that's how Jordan would see it.

"You can bring your paperwork and sit in the conference room or at an empty desk. You'll be there with him and for him, but not in the way. Then if he sleeps in the extra bed, you can sleep beside him. Dad will understand and the other officers are in the know. They'll understand the bond situation. It's new and needs to be nurtured. If I can feel it he can feel it. Don't let him feel like I am. Let him know you care. If you allow the bond to grow he will be able to focus more and have more energy. It's a win-win, Love."

Laura wiggled to lay her head on his shoulder. Both sighing at the contact. They needed it.

"You need to knock some sense into my brother."

Stiles snorted, making her hair ruffle slightly.

"No, I'm serious. He's been an ass. You need to make him beg for it."

"Sure." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"You listen to me, you are sexy as hell, Stiles. I know you can think of ways to make the shithead want you."

"I thought I did." Stiles grumbled.

Laura hummed, "You need to challenge him. Back him into a corner and the stubborn idiot will have to talk to you. I know it's ridiculous that it has to come to that, but he's an idiot in love. He's scared."

Stiles didn't say anything and eventually Laura's breath on his neck turned steady and long.

He softly reached out to his magic outside, it sang its reassurances. He could sleep, it would watch over them. The next morning he dropped a much happier werewolf at the Hale den.

He himself walked into his cave with a new sense of determination. Derek looked up and smiled in greeting. Stiles smiled, a plan forming.

"How was cam-" Derek's voice faded as Stiles slowly lifted his shirt, pretending to be indifferent to the intense stare on his Mate's face. Instead he used his shirt to wipe his face, "It was really good, Babe. Laura is a really good cuddler."

He moved easily, struggling to keep his face blank as Derek's eyebrows furrowed. A self righteous calm settled around him as he heard Derek follow him into the bedroom. He ignored the man's presence as he continued to strip and turned the shower on, testing the water's temperature.

"Y'all cuddled?" Derek asked, his voice a little tight as Stiles stepped under the spray.

Stiles didn't answer right away and instead focused on working his hands through his hair. Letting the water get all the way to his scalp.

"You and my sister cuddled in a two person tent?" Derek's lips were a little thin. Stiles wanted to roll his eyes. At least the bond wasn't just affecting him. Derek would never be this stupid if the bond wasn't messing with him. Laura was the last person Derek should be worried about. She also had her mate, her true mate. Idiot.

Stiles turned to face the man innocently, "Yeah, we both needed that physical connection. Really brought me closer to the pack bond, I think."

Stiles closed his eyes to let the water run over his face. Derek didn't say anything, but when Stiles opened his eyes he was sitting on the bed, watching him intently. Derek didn't say anything for a while.

"So," Derek's voice was a little breathless, "you had a good time, though?"

"Yeah," Stiles was now soaping his body up, "it was good to let loose. Void was getting restless. Hell, I was getting restless."

He looked over his shoulder to catch Derek licking his lips watching his movements, the werewolf's hands clenching the comforter tightly. Their eyes met and Stiles calmly raised his eyebrows, "I'm sure you understand the need to let your animalistic side out to play."

He turned and rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. After the soap was washed away from his body he stepped out of the shower, Derek already there with a towel waiting. Stiles allowed Derek to help dry him off, but when Stiles could tell Derek was about to lean in for a kiss, Stiles quickly smiled and asked, "Did you get all your papers done?"

Derek merely nodded and Stiles' smile widened, "That's good. I'm starving! I'm going to cook us some food."

Stiles moved past Derek to the closet, he tossed the towel into the hamper, before grabbing one of Derek's large sweaters. The sweater was even big on Derek and it fell around his midthigh. Stiles pretended to not hear Derek's pleased growl. As he cooked his food with Derek's eyes raking his body from his position leaning against the counter Stiles fought a smirk. The game was on.

While Derek took his morning shower Stiles started to take Derek's laid out dress shirt and rub the collar on his neck while he thought about fucking Derek. Forcing Derek to smell his lust throughout the day.

He started to workout as Derek worked on grading. Allowing sweat to run down his body and grunting with his effort. He pretended to not notice Derek's hand stilling for long periods of time.

Derek remained distant.

Stiles tried the other way instead. Covering his body all the time, only wearing his clothes, covering his scent, and spending more and more time in the woods gathering herbs and mushrooms, but he had to admit he'd take the time to jerk off. The petty side of him left that smell for Derek when he came back home. Cum mixed with the smell of the forest. Everytime Derek's eyes would dart to him, but Stiles ignored him for the shower.

Nothing. Fucking. Worked. It had been weeks since he went camping and Stiles felt fragile and insecure.

The next training session had Stiles positive Derek was trying to kill him. Derek decided to go shirtless and his sweat made the man shine in the afternoon light. Stiles almost groaned in frustration.

Stiles stiffly explained the first exercise and made his way away from the watching weres, not wanting them to smell him and not feeling like putting up a scent blocker. So, here he sat on the far side of the training field, alone except for Peter, who had trekked over looking concerned, as the cardio exercise played out in front of them.

"What's wrong with you?" Peter asked, barely above a whisper.

Stiles was quiet for a long moment, Peter continued to silently watch the students patiently waiting for Stiles to gather his thoughts.

"Is Derek Asexual?"

Stiles' voice was just as soft and if anyone looked over no one would know a conversation was taking place, which is why Stiles tried not to react at the overwhelming confusion falling off the older man beside him. Stiles continued to help solidify Peter's thought process.

"You mentioned he didn't date much before."

Peter hummed, "I also said he would take his needs out with a random person here or there."

"So that need is there?" The self-conscious lost voice didn't sound like him and Stiles hated himself even more. He shouldn't be talking about something so personal, but he was at a loss and then what if he did bring it up more? Push it? He tried to tell himself that it wouldn't end like it did with the other Derek, but that sick feeling in his stomach only grew with each passing day.

That slimy awful voice reminded him that he always knew this was a possibility. That this Derek would realize Stiles wasn't what he wanted. It played back his reasoning for keeping everyone at bay. It helpfully played back bits of the other Derek's rejection and Stiles' fists clenched tightly as his throat tightened.

Peter turned to look at him then, a long study of Stiles' frame and face took place. Stiles didn't try to hide or change anything.

"Nothing? He hasn't done anything with you?"

Stiles breathed a calming breath. Peter wasn't judging him or laughing at him. Instead asking questions to get a further understanding.

"Kissing." Stiles shrugged slightly, " I get it's still new, but I just thought-"

"Laura and her deputy didn't even make it an hour after meeting each other. No wonder you are twitchy. A new bond like yours needs that connection. If one mate is Ace like you asked, then their mate would be on the same page, no conversation would be needed and the connection could be completed in other ways. My nephew is picky, but definitely interested in that. You are interested in that as well it seems, so-"

"Very fucking interested." Stiles cut across the older werewolf, his void surging forward in his frustration. His black eyes still somehow able to scream his pain.

Peter's eyes settled in acceptance, "If only-," Peter shut his mouth before clearing his throat, "what is the moron's excuse?"

"My health." Stiles gritted passed his teeth harshly.

Peter snorted, causing the young man to send him a lethal glare.

Peter's smirk grew across his face, "Have you tried just shoving him against a wall?"

Stiles looked down at his fidgeting fingers, "Pretty much. He hasn't even told me about the Wolf moon run. Laura had to tell me. It's really hard to not think it's me at this point.``

Searching eyes made their way to the older man's face, finding it blank, but dangerous.

Peter closed his eyes and breathed deeply, "I need you to understand in no uncertain terms that you are not the problem. I don't know what his problem is, but I've smelled how much he wants you. So, maybe try-"

"Hey lovebirds!," Jackson's voice assaulted their private space, "You can flirt later! We're done with the laps."

Both men looked at the teenager unimpressed, but Peter stood up, immediately helping Stiles to his feet. Stiles sent a small smile to the Hale Pack's left hand. Both men and Jackson missed Derek's reaction toward the back. His nostrils flared and his hand twitched by his side. He was suddenly overwhelmingly Angry. He tried to control it, but his unclaimed mate was being touched by another male. His mate wouldn't let him touch him anymore. His mate was miserable and it was his fault. Derek pushed the guilt away and instead welcomed the anger. He allowed himself to be angry.

Angry that he was jealous of his own uncle, angry that Stiles seemed to be distancing himself, and angry at Jackson for even insinuating Stiles belonged to someone else. Derek's anger rose as Stiles announced a sparring tournament without even glancing his way.

As his mate called the first round to start, Derek stepped up, facing Laura. Her face morphing into one of concerned anxiety as she smelled his anger and frustration. Her eyes shifted to Stiles' oblivious face as she smelled Derek's shame. He knew he was the reason for any tension in his and Stiles' relationship, but sometimes it was easier to focus on the wrong things and just be angry.

Yup, Stiles thought, Derek Would succeed in his mission to kill him. Derek tore into his opponents in a lethal grace that made Stiles' dick twitch pleasantly. This powerful creature was his mate. When Derek took Boyd down with a move that Stiles knew he had taught the man, Stiles suddenly had to subtly readjust himself.

Jackson was the last domino to fall and Stiles stood silently in awe as his mate lifted the other were up off the ground only to slam him into the ground with a loud yell. This should not be as hot as it is. Stiles tried to calm himself, because he knew if he didn't every single creature in the vicinity would soon be able to smell him. That went out the window when Derek threw a wink his way as he jogged back to the starting point.

Thankfully Peter saved him with a distraction, "Why don't we make things a little more interesting?"

Stiles turned to look curiously at the man, raising his eyebrows as he saw the pure mischievous delight dancing in the older man's eyes.

"Derek is the champion, but can he hold the title against the true master?" Peter turned to gesture at Stiles. Stiles couldn't help his deadly smirk as he turned to look at the scowling Derek.

"He's still healing!" Derek tried to surge forward, but Stiles' voice stopped him in his tracks, "Let's make it more interesting, winner picks the prize."

Derek grumbled as his pack started to take bets, knowing he wouldn't receive any help there. His eyes snapped back to Stiles as the man slowly made his way to the starting point across the way.

Stiles felt every nerve ending alight with anticipation. Moving further away so they could quietly talk without being overheard.

"What do you want?" Stiles asked, allowing Derek to set the baseline.

"You start wearing my clothes to bed every night."

"I'll start doing that if you want, even without this. It's amazing what communication can accomplish, isn't it?"

"I want you to get a tattoo to match mine."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "I would gladly do that as well, but if that's the prize you want, I'm down."

"What do you want?"

"You." Derek's scowl melted off his face at Stiles' mellow voice. Stiles' whole body relaxed into a confident stance, his eyes burned with his meaning.

Stiles got into his space, "If I win I will take you home and fuck you until you can't even remember your name. That is if we make it all the way back to the cave. I might wait until we are out of hearing range and eat your ass while you hold onto a tree for dear life, begging for my dick."

A tense silence followed this, "We have a deal?" Stiles held out his hand, holding the taller man's eyes challengingly. A silent understanding that Stiles was still giving Derek a way out. All he had to say was no and Stiles would change it, but there would be a long conversation when they got home. Hell, there would most definitely be a long conversation anyway. Derek's face hardened, "Deal."

Derek watched Stiles' void surge forward to create some dark circles under his eyes and tried not to let it affect his dick. A tight growl rose in his chest, though, when Stiles sauntered back over to Peter while sliding his shirt over his head.

Peter smirked at Stiles' distraction tactic, "I can help with this." Peter murmured as he easily put his hand on Stiles' neck as he took the shirt from him, pretending to be too focused on talking to not notice his hand placement.

Both men smiled wickedly at the other. Peter leaned a little too close, "yup, he should be plenty worked up now, especially with a neglected bond inside him."

"Now, a little overkill to add some spice." Stiles said leaning even closer, before laughing loudly, only to top it off with a wink to the older man. All in clear view of a sure enough, fuming werewolf waiting on the field. To anyone else it would look like two packmates joking about the fight, all except Derek and that was the goal. Let his mind be filled with awful thoughts for once Stiles thought bitterly, even as he smiled wolfishly.

He took his time stretching while, a stockstill, Derek watched his every move. Stiles could feel the white hot anger pouring off his mate and Stiles stomach clenched excitedly.

"Ready?" He asked lightly, Derek merely nodded.

"Good." Stiles' face went from light boredom to intense violence in a single syllable.

With a snap of his legs, Derek ran right at him. Stiles danced on the balls of his feet, waiting. The whole wait murmuring, "Come on, Big Guy. Hit me. Hit me."

Derek didn't get a chance to make contact as Stiles easily ducked and proceeded to make the fight a close quarter ordeal. Blood and hot breaths filling the air.

The crowd had long gone quiet as it was quickly made clear that the two men were fighting with their entire being. Punches landing harder, kicks knocking the wind out of their opponent. Growls and taunts clawing their way out of the men's throats.

Both out of breath and wounds scattered along their bodies, they took a second. Tense and ready to start again, as they gasped for air. Eyes never leaving the other.

A heart shattering thought randomly tore through Stiles. Derek was fighting this hard to keep from sleeping with him. To not make love to him. Love. Did he- as soon as the question started to form in his brain Void suddenly took control. Void was over this dance. This mere wolf was hurting his Stiles- again.

Eyes suddenly inky black, teeth bared. He smelled Derek's exhaustion, anger, and fear. Derek swallowed thickly, before going into beta shift.

"It's cute you think that will help you." Void rumbled, not worried about being overheard as the men were still out of hearing range if he kept quiet. Void suddenly surged forward, grabbing onto Derek's neck hard, tossing Derek's punch aside.

"How dare you." Void growled into the pinched face of his Spark's mate, a clawed hand holding Derek's arm at the wrong angle. Derek softly huffing in pain and in his effort to gain back control.

"You are killing us, just like the other one. You are to blame for our pain, no matter what my softhearted human thinks. I believe I need to remind you that we deserve some respect. I could kill you in a single second, he could kill you in less than that. You're mate is powerful, but you carve him to bits with your complete and utter as-"

Stiles surged back to the surface with a loud gasp, stopping Void's monologue. The two men stared at each other for a split second before Stiles let his pain show on his face, right before he twisted sharply, breaking Derek's arm. With a powerful push, Stiles flung Derek through the air, feeling the arm twist out of socket and muscles rip. The man landed hard on his already broken arm with a loud agonizing yell.

Stiles slowly made his way to the writhing man on the ground. Using his knee on the man's chest he none too gently popped the arm into the right position. Derek's screams fading as his wolf healing took over. Stiles didn't offer any of his spark power to help.

Turning back to his pack he sent them his normal smile and bowed. Some members groaned as others cheered. Money changed several hands. Stiles heard Derek get to his feet behind him.

Stiles used his mask self to go over what each student needed to work on and to dismiss the lesson. The pack milled about, slowly making their way into the house or their car.

Stiles turned to see a haggard looking Derek staring guiltily at him. Stiles hated Void for playing his cards like that. Using his mouth to talk about him, expose his thoughts. Another part of Stiles wondered if Void was the better part of himself. Ready to smack someone with how they were hurting him. He didn't know which was right. He didn't know what to think. He wanted to be angry, but he was suddenly nothing but tired.

"Stiles," Derek spoke softly, eyes wide and searching Stiles' face, "About what Void said. Is it-"

"I'll see you at home, Derek." Stiles spoke in monotone over the man. Turning he made his way to Roscoe. Not looking back as he drove down the driveway.

Chapter Text

Stiles came in to find Derek sitting stock still on the couch, staring at the door. He made his way over to sit on the coffee table facing the man. Neither one spoke for a long moment. Stiles looked down at the floor, unable to look at the man as he lifted his shirt over his head, exposing his new tattoo to the werewolf.

A triskelion, the same design as Derek's, just smaller, now took up space on his left rib cage.

"Would you please just look at me?" Derek breathed, but Stiles couldn't, because he knew if his eyes looked into those pleading green orbs he would be done for.

He was truly and utterly gone on Derek Hale. He would always love the grouchy and insecure Derek of his world, but Stiles also loved the Derek sitting not two feet in front of him. The playful and open Derek.

Stiles shuddered slightly, this Derek was so open that it almost drove Stiles crazy with worry. Now that he'd seen it, it would literally kill Stiles if he saw it dim and those walls he'd been so used to started to build before his very eyes.

Part of Stiles wondered if his presence in this Derek's life was so costic that it was already happening. Derek pulled away and wasn't talking to him already. What did Stiles do to his mate?

"Stiles," Derek's voice was no longer as urgent and desperate, but now Derek whispered Stiles name like it was a prayer, Stiles had to close his eyes, "please look at me." Stiles gripped the table until his knuckles went white.

Derek didn't press again, instead stared at the already healed tattoo, thanks to a little magic. He stared so long that Stiles slowly opened his eyes to try to read the other man against his better judgement.

Derek reached out to touch it, but pulled his hand back, afraid his touch wasn't wanted right now. Stiles caught it and brought it to the dark ink.

Both inhaled sharply at the more intimate touch after such a long time of it not being there. Stiles hummed pleasantly as Derek's fingertip softly traces the pattern.

"You got the tattoo?" Derek was confused, "But I didn't win."

Stiles shook his head, "Derek, I love you. Not just because your name is Derek Hale or because you're my mate. And to be absolutely sure you understand this, you are not a replacement for the other Derek. The universe says I will love you in a million different lives, but there are other lives where we don't work out. I was rejected. You lost your mate from disease when you were young. Just because we match, sadly doesn't guarantee our happiness. We still have to find it. We have to make it happen for ourselves. We have to claim it. I am not who I once was and I could be like the other Derek. So broken and in my own head that I amputate happiness from my life. In a way I had settled into that life, but you," Stiles shook his head in wonder, "You soothed and nurtured me back to living instead of surviving. The best part is that you didn't even see- you didn't have a long reaching plan to get me to fall for you, but I have. I am completely in love with you. I love the teacher that gets silly and excited for his students. I love the soft stubborn soul inside you. You are loyal and strong. I will gladly do things you want me to do or we can at least talk it out, but you have to tell me."

Derek's eyes welled slightly, but he nodded before letting his head fall into his hands. Stiles gently lifted Derek's head to look into those green eyes he loves so much. He needed Derek to know they were fine.

"Listen, you mean the world to me. I know I shouldn't be bothered by this and I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. If you want to wait I swear we can wait for as long as you want to. This is a small part of-"

He was cut off by Derek gently cupping his face, shushing him quietly when Stiles tried to continue talking, "It is bigger than just the sex, I know you aren't holding sex over me. Please don't feel like this is your fault. I understand it's the bond. I was an idiot to hope that it wouldn't affect you. Listen to me, I don't care how you think I will react, I want to know when something is bothering you. You need to tell me when something is bothering you."

"You could take your own advice." Stiles softly commented.

Derek hummed in shame, "You're right. I was in denial, telling myself I was protecting you by being cautious but I should've seen, should've understood earlier."

Stiles waited patiently while Derek slid forward, one of his legs slotting between Stiles'. Derek cautiously took one of Stiles hands, softly playing with it.

"You left the pack, me, but that is just part of it. You died, Stiles. You died to get to me and you've died how many times in front of me since then?"

Stiles suddenly felt the weight of what Derek must be feeling. The death of an accepted mate wreaks havoc on the survivor, if the bond is strong enough it would mean death for the partner as well.

"You died years ago in this universe. How many can I survive?" Derek continued, shaking his head.

"Baby," Derek's voice rasped barely audible, "Now that I have you, even without the claim mark on your neck or the bond at full strength tying us together, I can't lose you."

"Speaking of," Stiles shifted uneasily, "what's this about a wolf moon run?"

Derek groaned, "Fuck, I didn't tell you."
Stiles shook his head, leaving the floor open for Derek.

"It's going to sound shitty, but I forgot. I was kidnapped and then you died again. Then I finally got the balls to kiss you and then you were healing."

Derek huffed, truly upset at himself. Stiles shifted to move forward and straddle Derek's lap.

"I'm better now." Stiles spoke softly into Derek's hair as the man immediately sat forward to nuzzle into Stiles' neck.

"I know. I am just scared, baby."

Stiles hummed, "I know, but I think this just means we need to enjoy our time together."

Derek hummed in agreement, his nose coming up to run along Stiles' jaw, "Not to mention I can't think straight when you're near me. I can't focus when I'm away from you and you've made these past few months Hell. You've been teasing me." Derek punctuated this with a nibble to Stiles' neck.

"I wouldn't need to tease you," Stiles' voice came out raspy as Derek slowly kissed down his throat, "if you would let me claim what's mine."

Derek groaned as his hold became a little tighter, "You would still tease me." He grumbled without malice.

Stiles chuckled, but it was cut off into a breathy moan as Derek started to suck on his neck.

"Say it again?" Derek murmured as he soothed his mark with his tongue.

Stiles couldn't really think, "Say what?"

"What should I let you do?" Derek roughly asked.

Stiles ground himself into Derek's lap as a cocky smirk lit his face up, "You should let me claim what's mine."

Derek's breathing hitched and his hand roughly directed Stiles' mouth to his own. Derek deepened the kiss, but it was Stiles who pulled away this time, almost smiling when Derek whined a little.

"What's the matter?" Derek asked, out of breath.

Stiles cupped the man's check, "Nothing, I just want you to have time to process this and be completely sure before we do this. I don't want to do this, just because of this talk. Now that I know where your head is at, I can wait as long as you need."

"See, tease." Derek whispered fondly, letting his forehead rest against Stiles'. They sat there, holding the other. Both getting the attention they desperately needed and had neglected. Not letting go of the other, even as sleep fell over them later that night.

Stiles was almost overwhelmed by the sharp turnaround Derek did after their talk. Stiles hadn't even noticed how calculated Derek had been and the restraint Derek had been using with him, but now it seemed Derek had to be constantly touching him somehow.

He was pulled into the man's chest when they climbed into bed. When they were eating at the table, Derek's leg or foot had to be up against his. It was taking longer to get home when they walked, because Derek would constantly stop to randomly kiss him. He begged Stiles to drop him off for work and pick him up, Derek's hand finding one of Stiles hands or thigh while they drove.

The bond he could barely feel before was thrumming louder. His spark vibrating and dancing excitedly every time the bond would randomly spike. Stiles couldn't focus on it for too long or panic would swell in his chest, almost knocking the wind out of him. The last time a bond this strong snapped into place, but hadn't been claimed, wasn't a pleasant experience for him. It was the day he had truly died, except he had stayed deceased there on the floor. What rose from those ashes was a bitter twisted trick mirror version of himself. He could never fit back into his original template, but he didn't feel any pressure from Derek to try to.

He jerked awake, a nightmare he'd had millions of times ripping him from Rem sleep. This time though it was instantly soothed by the deep breaths of his mate close by. Stiles let his eyes sweep over Derek's muscular back and arms.

Stiles moved to press against the sleeping man. Kissing his shoulders and softly scratching his back.

Derek mumbled happily at the attention and wiggled to be fully on his stomach to give Stiles more access.

Stiles moved to straddle the man and gently worked the knots out of Derek back, soft moans filling the air. After Derek's back was nice and relaxed Stiles started to work the muscles in those beautiful arms. Bending down to kiss the man's neck as he worked his was down to hold Derek's hands.

Stiles groaned as Derek wiggled back against him, his ass grinding into Stiles' hard dick.

"Can I touch you?" Stiles meant for it to come out calm to not add pressure, but it sounded more like a plea.

Derek didn't speak, too focused on rubbing his ass on Stiles, instead nodded.

Stiles had to close his eyes to control himself. He would go slow to give Derek plenty of time to back out.

"Tell me if you want me to stop." Stiles rasped.

Stiles kissed his way down Derek's back, nibbling here and there. He slide down Derek's basketball shorts and the man lifted his hips to help.

Stiles gripped the man's ass and kissed the back of his thighs, finishing off with a bite. Derek whispered and his hands gripped the pillow roughly.

Stiles slowly spread Derek's cheeks and ran his thumb over Derek's hole. The muscle twitched as he added a little more pressure to his massage. Derek's breathing was becoming more and more ragged.

Stiles gave no warning before he surged forward to lick Derek's rim. Derek shuddered and a desperate curse fell from his lips.

Stiles began to eat him out eagerly, spurred on by the noises Derek was making.

Stiles instructed Derek to get up onto his hands and knees, stiles quickly attacking again. Derek yelling out at the new angle and pressure.

Stiles leaned back just long enough to grab the bottle of lube in his bedside table and smack Derek's ass hard. Making Derek moan loudly.

Stiles started opening his mate up for him. Using his mouth to eat him out and his hands to stroke Derek's balls only to slowly move up his shaft to play with his tip.

Derek wasn't even making cohesive sentences, just begging for Stiles to get inside him.

Stiles ignored him until he was confident of the give of Derek's hole. Working it a little bit more than he needed to, just to be sure.

Stiles directed Derek to turn over to face him and Stiles slid a pillow underneath the man's hips. He stroked Derek's dick a few more times before bringing his lips to Derek's.

"How are you doing? I can just suck you off if you don't want to go all the way right now."

Derek looked at him like he had three heads, but when it was obvious that Stiles meant it Derek sobered slightly, his eyes clearing somewhat.

"Stiles," Derek looked a little lost, "this will be the final nail in my coffin."

Derek breathed heavily, staring at Stiles' face before he growled and surged forward to kiss Stiles.

Stiles let his nails lightly scratch their way up Derek's stomach who arched his back as he hissed in pleasure, breaking the kiss Derek's head fell back against the pillow.

Stiles turned his head slightly to kiss Derek's now accessible neck. He felt Derek's hand reach out to hold his hips, almost as if they needed to rather than wanted to.

Stiles leaned back and lubed his dick up while triple checking that Derek was still ready. He had turned the wolf over because he wanted to see his face the first time he fucked him. He pictured that face blissed out in ecstasy in fantasies before, but he knew the real thing would be unbelievable.

Stiles gently ran a hand over Derek's cheek before he slowly started to push his dick inside him. Both men groaned and Stiles stopped to shallowly thrust, testing the give. Stiles ended up only having to stop three times before he was fully inside Derek. Derek was panting and Stiles stayed perfectly still while gently running his hands over the man's body. Stiles praised him while he waited and how much he loved him.

Derek gave a breathy okay and Stiles slowly slid back out to thrust back in, stopping to test Derek's reaction.

The man's lower lip was trapped between his teeth, his eyes on where they were joined. Stiles looked down and he couldn't help but thrust in again. Fascinated that this was actually happening.

Stiles thrust in a little harder and was rewarded with Derek pressing his head back into the pillow, moaning loudly.

Stiles groaned and started a slow, but rough pace. His hips snapping against Derek with loud smacks.

Derek's body was racked with shudders as his nails grew and withdrew, his fangs growing and receding, and his face rippling as his wolf tried to fight to the surface.

Stiles pulled Derek with him as he sat back on his knees, Derek groaned loudly as he slid further down onto Stiles' dick.

"Don't hold back, baby." Stiles whispered into Derek's temple and he continued the slow pace up into his mate. Derek whimpered, his wolf still fighting to make itself known.

Stiles kissed his way to Derek's mouth, but was unsatisfied when Derek kept his mouth closed, keeping his fangs away from Stiles.

Stiles growled as he thrust up suddenly hard causing Derek to gasp. Stiles quickly ran his tongue along Derek's fangs.

A fang caught Stiles' lip slightly, causing it to bleed. Derek licked it before he could help himself, but when Stiles moaned happily he brought the lip into his mouth to gently suck on the wound.

Stiles moaned loudly, his thrusts turning into rough grinds for a second as his body shook with unexpected pleasure.

Stiles let his magical claws slowly grow out and ran the sharp nails along Derek's back, feeling the muscles jump under his fingers. His pace picking back up as he ran his nails down his Mate's back, drawing blood. Derek's head buried itself in his neck.

"Please." Derek panted.

Stiles didn't change his pace, "Tell me what you need, baby"

Derek seemed to not be able to really think clearly, "Cum inside me."

Stiles' gripped a little too tightly at that request. He slowly pushed Derek forward, "You want this little fox to claim you?"

Derek just nodded.

Stiles slammed forward suddenly again, Derek moaned another plea.

"You want to be pinned down?" Stiles asked huskily as he pushed Derek into the mattress.

"Yes."

"You want to feel my claws digging into your skin?" Stiles ran his free hand up Derek's leg and felt it twitch.

Stiles snapped his hips forward, holding Derek in place as he used his Void side to add some strength behind his thrusts.

Derek couldn't seem to keep quiet, his mouth begging for more.

"Please."

Stiles wrapped a hand around Derek's throat as he went faster.

"So good. Please. Please don't leave me."

Derek's plea made Stiles' rhythm falter, but then Stiles decided he was going to leave no room for that kind of thought in Derek's head.

"I'm not going anywhere, love. You are my mate. You are mine."

Derek groaned, Stiles tried to focus as he pounded extra rough thrust into the now slightly shaking man underneath him.

"Say it." Stiles growled.

"I'm yours." Derek's voice was gone, but he made eye contact with Stiles as he said it.

"Damn right." Stiles gripped Derek's hair pulled him up causing Derek to yell out, "Your dick is mine," Stiles wrapped a hand around Derek's dick, stroking in time with his trusts, " your ass is mine," Stiles ground himself against Derek's ass before thrusting forward quickly twice, Derek let out a sob, " your lips are mine." Stiles kissed the man roughly, "your neck is mine," Stiles rasped as he broke the kiss, moving to kiss along Derek's jawline and neck.

Derek was shaking and Stiles could feel he was close to cumming.

"Your soul is mine. All of you. I want every piece of it to touch mine. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. I will protect you. I love you."

"Stiles." Derek sounded like he didn't know what he needed.

"Taking my dick so good, Baby. You feel so good around me. So warm. So perfect."

Derek yelled out as he came hard, shuddering as Stiles continued to pump into him, much more slowly. Derek was beautiful. His hair sticking to his temples and neck from sweat, his mouth slack, his eyes staring down at Stiles still fucking him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes glowed briefly as his cum hit Stiles' stomach. Those fangs filling his gorgeous mouth. Stiles had been right, Derek Hale falling apart on his dick was the most beautiful sight Stiles had even seen.

Stiles lowered him back to the mattress and Derek laid panting hard. Stiles pushed Derek's legs a little wider, causing Derek to whimper at the new sensation.

"I'm not going to last much longer." Stiles panted.

"Cum for me. Let me feel you." Derek begged.

Stiles groaned as he put more weight onto Derek to slide in further, both men groaning.

Suddenly that inky blackness started to creep into his vision, that voice asking permission to wreck Derek further. Stiles pushed him back with effort, this would be his moment. His moment alone. He would cum as himself.

Stiles came with Derek's name falling reverently from his lips. His hips shuttered forward a few more times, even after he was spent.

Stiles didn't pull out, instead bending to lay his forehead against Derek's shoulder, their sweat mixing together even more.

"Holy fucking God" Stiles panted, causing Derek to chuckle as he nodded in agreement.

Derek whispered and Stiles groaned as he slid his deflating dick out and he fell back to lay onto the mattress.

Derek turned and laid his head against Stiles' chest, listening to his still erratic heartbeat.

They fell asleep like that, Stiles' arms wrapped around Derek's torso and his cum leaked out of Derek's ass.

A loud knock made Stiles groan in annoyance. He heard Derek chuckle and kiss him softly, "Go back to sleep, I'll answer it."

Stiles watched that gorgeous god slide his discarded basketball shorts on and head for the bedroom door.

Stiles sighed and threw on one of Derek's shirts over his head. As he was walking into the living room he heard Derek's concerned voice, "Issac?"

Stiles came closer to see a dirty Issac with blood covering his clothes.

"My dad-" Issac paused to sob, "He tried to kill me."

"Who's blood is this, Issac?" Stiles asked thickly.

"Mine." Isaac's answer sent a wave of relief through Stiles, at least they didn't have to deal with a body.

"You said," Issac couldn't look at them, " that your door would always be open. Can I come in?"

Stiles immediately ushered the boy in and walked him to the guest quarters. He set up clean sheets on his bed, while Derek helped get the exhausted wolf out of his clothes and into the shower. Derek got him some pajamas and Stiles mixed him some juice with a sleep aid in it.

After the cub was tucked in and sleepily thanked them they walked back to their room. Neither one said anything to the other as they climbed back into bed.

"We need to get that boy away from that man." Stiles murmured.

"Agreed." Derek answered without hesitation.

Chapter Text

Stiles looked up happily as the door opened, Issac sauntered in with Cora right on his heels. Issac gave Stiles that rare puppy smile as he came to sit beside him at the table, Cora sat much slower and kept looking between the two. Issac had been living with him and Derek for a week and it was getting easier and easier to get a smile from the boy. Stiles found he genuinely was happy when the boy sassed him, which he never thought he'd say in his old world.

The day after Issac showed up Derek had enlisted his family's help, as his mother and sister were two successful lawyers, into moving forward in trying to get custody of Issac. The problem was that for some reason, most likely because he was a narcissistic asshole with an ego the size of Manhattan, Isaac's father was fighting them.

As Cora sent another look between himself and Issac Stiles huffed and laid down his research to look at them both expectantly.

"This is her thing." Issac immediately threw Cora under the bus, which caused the she-wolf to send a heated glare his way.

"I," Cora spoke slowly as her eyes found Stiles', "was wondering if I could have permission to stay the night over here."

Stiles hummed, "The woods not doing it for you anymore?"

Issac immediately sat up straight and opened his mouth, but Stiles stopped him with a wave of his hand, "Please, did you really forget I have a multi-leveled security system around my place? You've woken me up every single time you cross the boundary."

Issac sat back, looking a little shamefaced and Cora looked panicked. Stiles tried not to smirk as he nodded knowing, before shrugging, "Look as long as you're both being safe, you both get home safe, and I don't have to hear it, I don't care."

Issac and Cora both deflated in relief, "So," Cora spoke a little breathlessly, " does that mean I can spend the night?"

Stiles let her squirm a little before he turned back to his work, "That is not my call to make. That is your brother's. You can hang out till he comes home."

Stiles glanced at his watch, "Should be here in about an hour and some change. If you and Issac want to make that chicken caprese I was going to make, the recipe is on the counter. Fix that and get a salad thrown together, I am sure Derek would appreciate the peace offering. The chicken should be thawed out now."

Cora was looking a lot less confident, but a quick rallying look from Issac had Cora smiling slightly and both teenagers started quickly trying to decipher the recipe before them after they made it to the kitchen. If he wasn't so sure that these two would end up mates then he'd have more to say about it, but in the end what he said was true.

Stiles let the brainstorming continue for a little while before he stood up, smiling. He plugged his phone into the sound system Derek had insisted be installed throughout the cave and turned on his cooking playlist.

Long soulful notes filled the air which caused the two wolves to turn to look at him. He sauntered his way to them, rolling up the sleeves on Derek's Henley he was wearing.

"What is this?" Cora raised an eyebrow.

'Child' by Mia Z," at her continued confused stare he added, "My cooking playlist." Stiles shrugged as he came to stop between the two.

"What else is on the list?" Issac seemed to be genuinely enjoying the song.

Stiles hummed softly as he recalled, "Some Haley Reinhart, Etta James, Jacob Banks, Nina Simone, Dean Martin, even some Beyonce. It gives some soul or swing to my cooking."

"You enjoy cooking so much that you made an entire playlist for it?" Cora didn't seem to be judging, more curious.

"Cooking is universal, my dear. If you are artistic you can approach it like a work of art. All the different ingredients get mixed together at just the right moment to make something beautiful. Or you can improvise and create something new and creative. If you are mathematically inclined then you can get the precise amount of ingredients to fit into a formula that will have a product of something delicious."

"What if you just suck at it?" Cora grumbled.

Stiles softly nudged his hip into hers, "Then it becomes something even better," He reached across Cora to grab the recipe, smirking slightly at her confused look, "it becomes a team sport."

Cora rolled her eyes, but did smirk and Issac snorted as he started to pull out the spices and other extra ingredients needed. For the next hour he taught as much as he could on a wide variety of cooking tips, even if they didn't really fit the meal he had prepared. He was happy to see the pups slowly start to enjoy themselves and ask questions. Cora squealed happily when he twirled her to the music and Isaac's loud laughter was cut short as Stiles suddenly treated him to the same twirling action. Stiles' heart soared when Issac let it happen, his laughter picking back up. The ding of the timer suddenly bringing them back to the task at hand.

When Derek came through the door it was to find all three cooks extremely proud of themselves and one of the best meals he'd ever tasted. It didn't hurt that the first bite was fed to him by his mate.

Derek brought Stiles into his space by his belt loops on his jeans after all the dishes had been cleaned and put away.

"Thank you for dinner." Derek kissed him tenderly, pulling back to smile lazily, "It was absolutely amazing."

Stiles smiled widely before pulling Derek back into a kiss by gently tugging him down towards him by his tie.

Derek groaned lightly and murmured that Stiles needed to put sound proofing on the rooms into his Mate's neck.

Stiles chuckled and pushed Derek back begrudgingly, though smirked at the pout the other man was wearing, "I will get on that right now, but before that, your sister has a question for you."

Derek looked like he forgot there were other people in the room, but turned to see the two nervous looking teenagers. Stiles tried not to laugh out loud as Derek's eyebrows became more and more furrowed as Cora stuttered through her request.

Derek waited until she was done before raising a single eyebrow mockingly, "Oh, so you're actually asking for permission, now?"

Cora bristled, but didn't take the bait, "Of course, I wouldn't disrespect your Den like that."

Derek looked slightly impressed that she hadn't let her temper get to her, but still smirked with his next sentence, "Oh," Derek nodded, his voice light, "so it has nothing to do with my mate being able to know you showed up instantly as soon as you crossed our boundaries?"

At her face Stiles snorted from where he was leaning against the table, taking it all in.

Cora huffed, her thin patience waning, "Can I come over or not?"

Derek looked at Stiles who immediately put his hands up, "This is your call."

Derek sighed as he looked back over to his sister, "Ask mom. If she is okay with it, so am I."

Stiles burst out laughing and at the confused look on all three wolves faces he explained that she got the 'go ask dad' and then literally the 'go ask mom'.

Cora rolled her eyes and the teens disappeared down the guest hallway. As they left Derek came to lift him on the table chuckling to accuse him of being no help whatsoever.

As they heard the door close down the hall, Stiles' face went soft, "Is what she said true?"

Derek turned his head adorably in confusion. Stiles let his hand gently trail down those scruffy cheeks and was fascinated when Derek's eyes closed and his mouth opened slightly, looking as if he had never felt anything so wonderful than Stiles' touch. When those eyes opened again it was a forest of emotions. Stiles hated how vulnerable he sounded, "She said this was your Den. Has this really become your Den?"

Derek's smile was soft, but he nodded seriously, "You are my sanctuary, where my wolf and I go to find peace. Where you are is my home, my safe place. This place became my true Den the minute you came here with your bag and the clothes on your back from the other world. Which is why my wolf and I desperately searched the woods for it, for you."

Stiles' lip wobbled, but he slid off the table, allowing his body to run along Derek's, not breaking contact, "I am going to go complete the runes for sound proofing in our room. Would be really interesting to see how quiet you can be and then after you recover to see how loud I can make you scream."

Derek growled as he hurried after his mate, the door slamming shut behind them.

Another week passed of the Hales and Stiles working to gather evidence of the horrors Issac suffered underneath his father's roof. The Hale's faces as he talked got blanker and blanker, all except the eyes. Rage burned deep from every single one of them.

Soon they had their first meeting with the assholes's lawyer with more than enough to keep Issac with them. The scars scattering his body that happened before his werewolf transformation were all logged. His deposition transcribed.

“Fucking lawyers!” Derek landed heavily into the chair at the head of the dinning table, angled towards where Stiles was still standing by the door. As soon as the Spark had felt the boundary alert he had rushed to the door to hopefully give a hug to his new son, but Derek was alone and angry. Very angry.

Stiles took in the distressed grimace on his mate’s face and the tight set of his shoulders. It was the slight shake to Derek’s hands that had him gliding past him to the kitchen.

“Tell me what happened.” Stiles sat a wolfsbane infused beer down on the table and Derek sent him a grateful look as he downed half of it.

Stiles moved around to rub the hard knots from Derek’s shoulders as his mate ranted about how unfair the system is, even as he leaned into Stiles' fingers. The lawyers had tried to charge them with kidnapping, but thankfully with the evidence and a victim statement given by Issac the judge had granted temporary custody to the Hales, but on the way home they realized they had a tail. The lawyers had hired a private investigator to get dirt on them, follow them until they slipped up.

"Issac has to stay at the Pack Den right now, because that was the official address we gave them. Couldn't really bring attention to you or this place. They are watching the house right now! I had to sneak out the back to get here."

Stiles stilled his movements as his brain caught up, "You have to go back to staying at the Pack Den, don't you?"

Derek froze as well, his silence more than enough. As panic and anguish threaten to claw its way out of Stiles' chest Derek took his hand to lead him to sit in his lap, kissing his temple, "It's only temporary."

Stiles breathed in deep as he nodded, "Just bring our pup home. That's the most important thing. Get Issac safe."

Derek's eyes widened, "Our pup?"

Stiles nodded immediately, "You're adopting him, Derek. You are going to be his guardian, his father figure. Hell, you already are! Issac has already become our pup."

Derek groaned as his head came to rest against Stiles', "You can't say things like that. I already feel so out of control with these proceedings with the lawyers, now I am ripped away from you."

Derek pulled back to look at Stiles, a desperate question dancing in his eyes.

"Well, since I don't know when you'll be back here," even as Stiles said it his gut twisted dangerously, "at least let me help you."

Stiles slid off Derek's lap to go over to his jars of herbs in the corner.

Derek laughed, "You have a herb to help with this?"

Stiles smirked, his back still to his mate. As he turned back to see Derek's soft laughter still all across his face Stiles quickly swallowed the herb pills.

"They're for me. An in-house creation."

Derek was confused, but his focus was soon drawn to Stiles lifting his T-shirt over his head.

"I'm definitely down for this," Derek sat up straighter, "but what were the herbs?"

Stiles smirked, but instead of answering he climbed into Derek's lap, kissing him deeply.

Stiles unbuttoned Derek's dress shirt, kissing each new inch of skin revealed.

A soft moan left Derek, his chest rising and falling faster the lower Stiles went.

Stiles gracefully fell to his knees in between Derek’s legs and he heard his mate’s breath hitch and pick up as Stiles slowly ran his hands from Derek’s knees up to his belt buckle. Stiles slowly undid the leather from the buckle as he kept his eyes on Derek’s face.

“You do so much,” Stiles breathed, “you are so strong for the people you love. Issac is safe. I love you. Two weeks from now we will be running through the woods and you can finally claim what's yours. You can claim me. Mark me for the world to see.”

Derek’s eyes turned bright gold as he swallowed thickly at Stiles words and actions.

Stiles undid that button to Derek’s pants slowly, licking his lips in anticipation.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice cracked as he brought a hand to cup Stiles’s face.

Stiles turned and nibbled on Derek’s thumb and enjoyed the small groan it ripped past the werewolf’s mouth.

Stiles couldn't stop now, he could feel the plant mix starting to work. His throat relaxed and started to vibrate softly.

Stiles freed Derek's dick from his pants, looking up at his already flushed partner as he worked the length with his hand. Getting Derek rock hard for him.

Stiles ran his tongue around Derek’s tip slowly and saw Derek’s hands tighten on the arm rests of his chair.

“I want you to take control and fuck my face.” Stiles whispered, letting his breath fall against his mate’s dick.

“What?” Derek’s voice was strained.

Stiles stared up at him as he slowly brought one of Derek’s hands to the back of his head as he slowly opened his mouth and waited.

"You," Derek panted, "you want me to- but what if I hurt you? Are you sure?"

"I'll let you know if you need to stop, but as I said, those herbs were for me."

Stiles felt Derek gently hold his face with both of his hands and then Derek was slowly moving his hips forward as his dick slid into Stiles warm mouth.

Derek hissed as he slowly slid back out as he felt the vibrations shooting up his length as the wet warmth gripped him. At the challenge burning in Stiles eyes he let his head fall back for a second, moaning.

Derek went deeper on his next slow thrust. His breathing picked up even more.

Derek’s grip tightened on Stiles face as his hips thrust up a little harsher, causing him to groan as Stiles’ mouth took it.

"So good." Derek panted.

His hips thrust forward again and he held for a second, only to quickly pull back to check that Stiles was okay with what just happened.

Stiles nodded slightly and just let more of his tongue slide out of his mouth, offering more of his throat.

Derek slowly stood up, letting his pants fall to the floor. He check one more time to see if Stiles was still on board, before once again sliding into his Mate's mouth.

Stiles hummed happily as Derek's thrust became harder and deeper. Praise fell from Derek's mouth the entire time. His hand gripping Stiles hair harder, his balls slapping Stiles chin.

The vibrations in his Mate's throat reached a fever pitch and he realized his minx of a Spark had tied it to his release.

Derek's voice was broken, "Do you want to cum down your pretty little throat?"

Stiles moaned loudly around Derek's dick, making his hips stutter in their movement slightly.

Derek's balls were so tight and that feeling in the bottom of his spine suddenly spiked.

As he came Derek gripped onto Stiles' tightly, then pulled back to stumble slightly into his abandoned chair.

Stiles wiped his mouth slightly before kissing Derek softly, "We will get through this."

Derek could only nod and bring Stiles into his lap, kissing him languidly.

Chapter Text

Stiles moved silently through the woods. When you're trying to sneak into a Werewolf den, every step has to be measured before a stray leaf fucks you over. Luckily, Stiles literally taught the Pack this technique.

He easily maneuvered his way past the cameras now set up just outside the Hale's legal territory. Stiles felt a pit form in his stomach. Those were new and he had to keep his head on a swivel to catch them all but they were stark white against the bark, even in the night. He wondered how Isaac's dad could afford private investigators, especially ones that could afford all this technology. I mean the technology wasn't placed in great spots, so they were idiots, but expensive idiots. Stiles' gut told him he already knew who provided the money, he just didn't know how or why. He made a mental note to talk to Peter about it the next chance he got. Stiles was sure the left hand had his own thoughts on the matter as well.

His pace slowed as he neared his old boundary. The easiest hurtle in front of him tonight. The magic greeted him with an excited hum, it vibrated under his skin.

The second magical boundary was a little more tricky, he actually had to use magic to break and reseal it without alerting anyone. He paused for a few heartbeats, but no sound or movement came from the inside of the house and the magic he had just mended back together seemed to roll its eyes, saying of course it didn't alert anyone. It's job was to warn against violent intentions.

Stiles started forward again, being even more careful with his steps now that the large Hale house was before him. Using his magic he easily climbed up to the second story roof, landing on the balls of his feet.

He slinked along the harsh lines of the roof until he reached his destination. A quick pulse of magic revealed all the inhabitants were asleep. A quick whispered charm and the window lock started to slowly move, ending with a soft click.

Stiles slithered through the now unlocked window, pausing as the soft thump of his feet meeting carpet made the soft breathing of his sleeping prey hitch.

Stiles waited, holding his breath, Derek mumbled sleepily, sitting up. Taking the chance while Derek woke up, Stiles turned and quickly lowered the window back down.

Stiles watched as Derek sniffed the air sleepily, then watched his face fall, "Mate." Derek's voice was raspy and desperate, but more than anything dripping with sorrow.

Stiles took a step out of the shadows, "I'm here, my Love."

Derek's eyes snapped open, now wide awake. They found Stiles' within a second and he was in front of Stiles in less time. Stiles got the distinct image of a puppy as Derek bounced in front of him excitedly, a large grin on his face, though Stiles would never share that thought.

Suddenly he was picked up off his feet and swung around, "You're here. You're actually here!"

Stiles shushed him, scared his loud antics would wake the dead, much less the entire house.

Derek sat him down but didn't let him go as he rolled his eyes, his smile never leaving his face, "All the bedrooms and offices are soundproof."

Stiles would've felt stupid at having to be reminded about that if he weren't so happy to feel Derek's skin under his fingertips.

Stiles' eyes almost couldn't look away from where his fingertips met Derek's tanned skin. When he did look up it was to see Derek watching him with a soft smile, seeming content to let Stiles take as long as he needed.

"I missed you." Stiles offered softly in explanation as to his sudden appearance, but Derek wasn't asking questions. Stiles closed his eyes as Derek's lips met his forehead.

Neither one spoke as Derek helped strip Stiles out of his clothes. Derek easily slipped his own shirt over his head to give to Stiles. Derek couldn't seem to get enough of Stiles' scent. His nose ran along Stiles' throat as they collapsed into the bed in a heap. Derek purred deep in his chest when Stiles rubbed his face into Derek's neck.

Derek took his time, smelling and kissing. Neither one pushed it further. Just enjoying the other's touch and presence. When they fell asleep it wasn't glued to the other, but facing each other a few inches apart, their fingertips touching between them.

Stiles hummed as he came into consciousness. His hips thrust forward slightly before his brain caught up. He could feel Derek's dick grinding into his ass as the man slowly moved his hips. What forced a broken moan out of him in the next breath was the feeling of Derek's large hand stroking him awake. Stiles didn't know how long Derek had been stroking his dick before he woke up, but he fucking prayed to everything he wouldn't stop.

"I missed you." Derek repeated Stiles' own words back at him, his voice a deep grumble.

"Baby." Stiles breathed in reply as Derek added some pressure and circled his sensitive head.

Derek bit softly into the flesh of Stiles' shoulder before slowly turning the Spark onto his back so he could straddle him.

Stiles looked up at the Grecian God as Derek slowly started to rub both of their erections together. Stiles' hands immediately found the other man's thighs, gripping them tightly, his eyes couldn't look away.

Both of Derek's hands worked together. Stiles' breathing was picking up and Derek moved his hips slightly causing their balls to rub together. Stiles couldn't help the loud moan falling from his lips.

Suddenly the beautiful man on top of him stopped all movement, causing Stiles to whine loudly. He wasn't above begging.

Derek chuckled darkly as he leaned forward to bring their lips together.

Stiles struggled a little when he felt Derek reach between them to try and line himself up.

"I need to open you up first. I know the whole werewolf healing thing, but I don't want to cause you any pain. I-"

Stiles was cut off by Derek kissing him softly, "I prepared myself before waking you up."

Stiles' head flopped back on his pillow with a loud groan.

Derek's hand rubbed along Stiles' length with a wicked smile on his face, "You like that?"

Stiles nodded as he watched Derek line himself up again. Both men released brittle moans as Derek slowly slid down Stiles' length.

Derek started to ride him, groaning loudly when Stiles' fingers bit into his thighs.

Stiles let Derek take his time with the pace and angle. Watching Derek's face become more flushed and hearing the small skip in his breathing every time Stiles would gently meet him.

Stiles couldn't handle himself anymore when Derek's legs started to tremble.

"Hold onto the headboard, Baby." Stiles' soft raw voice commanded. If he hadn't been as far gone as he was, Stiles would've smirked when the man eagerly listened.

Stiles gripped the other man's hips as he roughly thrust upwards into Derek's warm hole. Both men moaning loudly at the new angle and power.

"Stiles." Derek begged.

"I know, Baby. I know." Stiles murmured into the man's neck as he rolled his hips expertly.

"Fuck." The sound of Derek's sharp nails scratching along the headboard made Stiles moan.

Stiles roughly gripped the man above him as he started to thrust into him. Derek gave a moan mixed with a sob that had Stiles make a split second decision.

Stiles lifted suddenly only to tackle Derek underneath him. His dick being shoved even further inside Derek's hole.

Both men cried out, Stiles even taking himself a little by surprise.

Stiles kissed the man hard and pulled his wet cock out, only to slam it back into the man below him.

Derek's hands found the headboard again as Stiles slammed into him. The sound of the wood slamming against the wall made Stiles wonder how strong the soundproofing really was.

Stiles leaned back onto his knees. Watching Derek react to him. His entire body would try to jump up the bed with each thrust, but Derek's hands were pushing back on the force. The sounds of skin slapping against each other filled the room. Derek's hard dick wobbled along his stomach with the movement. Derek's face was pure unfiltered pleasure. Not the photogenic kind, but the uncontrollable facial expressions that pleasure pulled out of you.

Stiles grabbed a pillow that had moved closer with all the jolsting and quickly lifted Derek's hips to place the pillow onto his thighs to help prop Derek up.

Stiled groaned at the new noises coming out of his partner. He couldn't truly let himself go if his partner wasn't enjoying themselves.

"God," Stiles breathed, "you are so perfect. You are mine."

He snapped his hips forward for a particularly hard thrust and Derek's dick jumped visibly. Stiles moved Derek's left leg onto his shoulder so he could move his hand to wrap around Derek's weeping dick.

"Say it for me baby."

"I'm yours. Body, mind, and soul."

Stiles' chest trembled with the truth of those words. He turned his head to bite into Derek's cafe by his face.

Derek came, clenching around his dick and Stiles had to hold still to keep from cumming himself. He wasn't done.

Derek shuddered as Stiles worked his dick slowly with his hand. Smiling when it started to harden again after a few minutes. Fucking werewolves.

"We're not done with you," Stiles growled, looking into Derek's face. His Mate's glassy eyes fixed on him, his pupils blown wide.

Suddenly Stiles' eyes went black, Derek's hole clenched around him. Void was smirking down at him.

"Hello, my little Wolf." Void purred as he slowly moved his hips forward, Derek released a long groan.

"It's my turn." Void moved Derek's leg so he could bend down to grip Derek's hair, pulling his head back, exposing his long beautiful neck.

Void hummed appreciatively. Keeping the torturously slow pace Void sucked and kissed his way across Derek's throat.

The man beneath him squiriemed to try and get more friction, but Void chuckled, keeping the wolf in place.

Suddenly Void pulled out roughly, causing Derek to cry out, "Turn over for me."

Derek listened immediately and Void murmured appreciatively, helping position Derek on all fours.

Void sat back to enjoy the view, "You look so beautiful like this, Mate."

He reached out to softly start to massage Derek's balls between his legs. The man's legs trembled as a sharp gasp left his mouth. Void was pleased, "So responsive to us. So beautiful. All ours."

Void used his hands to spread Derek's cheeks, only to rush forward and thrust his tongue into Derek's hole. Derek cried out and jerked at the unexpected attention, but Void's hands kept him in place. Void licked and tongued Derek until the man had his face shoved into the mattress, shoving his hips back on Void's face, and crying out for release.

Void pulled back, "You want to cum for me?"

Void wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but when Derek just panted, eyes wide, Void suddenly smacked Derek's ass. The wolf moaned loudly.

"Yes!" Derek yelled blindly in pleasure.

"Yes, what?" Void asked smoothly as he rubbed where he'd hit, soothing it.

"Yes, I want to cum for you."

"That's a good boy." Void praised as his inhuman nails raked down Derek's back gently, causing Derek's to arch into the touch.

Void shuffled forward and roughly pulled Derek up onto his knees. Derek moaned and begged softly for Void to fuck him.

Void nibbled on his earlobe in reward, "So, perfect for us." Void murmured along Derek's sensitive skin, his breath a soft caress.

"You are more than we could've imagined. Soon you will claim us as yours. We are restless, wanting your mark. The thought of your teeth piercing our skin enough to get us hard. You are our everything. Our wolf."

Tears fell from Derek's eyes, only to throw his head back onto Void's shoulder as Void suddenly thrust upward, entering him in one rough thrust.

Void stilled, as Derek got comfortable in his lap, his hands coming back to rest on the top of Void's thighs.

A hand wrapped around Derek's throat and squeezed just as Void thrust hard again. One hand keeped him pulled back against Void's chest and the other roaming to all the right places. A hard pinch at his nipples here and nails along his thigh there. It was too much for Derek to handle. Void's thrust grew in their violence and Derek couldn't even cry out. The pain mixed with the pleasure rendering him speechless.

The hand on his throat disappeared and Derek breathed in a deep filled breath only to stop short as another thrust took his breath away. A hand suddenly gripped his balls firmly and the other roughly worked his dick in time with the thrusts. Derek's arms went up behind him to wrap around Void's neck.

"You feel so good." Void rasped into his ear. "So warm. So perfect. You were made for us. You are ours."

Derek nodded frantically, "Always, my Love."

Void groaned loudly, "I'm going to cum inside you. Mark you as ours."

Derek shuddered, both men so close. Void suddenly changed the angle and hit Derek's prostate and Derek came with bright lights flashing behind his eyes.

He was vaguely aware of void moaning loudly and then a lovely pressure pulsed into him. His Mate's cum, filling him up.

Void slowly lowered them down to the bed, Derek whined when Void's dick left his ass. Both lay there panting loudly. Derek groaned as he turned to look at his Mate, black eyes stared back at him, Void softly moved some sweat matted hair off Derek's forehead, "We are very happy we found you."

Derek gulped in air, trying to speak, but before he could the black slowly seeped out of his Mate's eyes, only leaving those beautiful brown ones he loved so much.

Stiles looked him over frantically, "He didn't hurt you too bad, right?"

Derek smiled softly at the concern and shook his head. Stiles immediately relaxed and let himself catch his breath as well.

Derek smelled the sheets and hummed happily, when he looked up Stiles was smirking with a single raised eyebrow, "Since you fell into this world, I have longed to have your scent in my room, on my sheets. It smells like us."

Derek leaned forward to kiss Stiles deeply, "Come on, shower time."

Both men groaned when they got out of bed. Slowly making their way to the ensuite bathroom.

A few hours later, Stiles grumbled as he knew it was time to sneak back home before the sun came up. He left a note on the bedside table and a lingering kiss on a sleeping Derek's forehead. His wolf didn't stir at all and Stiles was slightly proud.

He was slinking back through the woods when one of the lower cameras caught his eye. It was one of the few with a really good view of the house. A wicked grin spread across his face.

He stumbled into his bed some time later, falling asleep smiling at the thought of the private eyes reviewing their footage from tonight. It would be normal, all up until it suddenly lost signal when a very curious fox started sniffing around, only to think the camera was a chew toy.

Stiles let out a tired giggle, if only he could see their faces.

Chapter Text

Weeks passed.

More meetings with lawyers, but even more surveillance. Stiles couldn't risk sneaking over again. Issac deserved a better life, Stiles would not ruin this for him.

The private eyes were already looking into anyone that came into the house and Derek was being heavily investigated.

A man showing up with a fake identity and a dead kid's name, finger prints, and DNA? Not a good look. Add the cherry on top that he was fucking the man wanting to be Isaac's adoptive dad? Immediate ammunition against them. So Stiles distracted himself.

He expanded his gardens and worked on future lessons for his pups. On his own he created some more of his own recipes with different herbs. He either found amazing properties or he ended up vomiting in a bucket by his workstation.

It made things barrable that he wasn't truly cut off from his family completely. He talked to Derek on the phone daily, Laura and Peter texted him constantly, and his parents came over for dinner almost every night, sometimes bringing way too much food, sometimes demanding the recipe from him.

They weren't under surveillance so his mother came over sometimes just to talk to him or to help him with his greenhouse. His father and he would watch movies without speaking a word, but it was good, it felt like it had before. Sadness still curled a little in his gut when he thought of his other father, but then he would turn to see him sitting just a few feet away eating popcorn. It left Stiles determined to soak in every moment.

The night of the moon he was supposed to be claimed came and they couldn't risk the run. They couldn't risk anything with the adoption court date so close.

Stiles understood, but he had been holding onto the idea that he'd be claimed tonight. Stiles tried to fight the hollow pit in his stomach. He could feel the bond's restlessness, he could feel Derek's anger, and he knew Derek could feel his crippling sadness. Stiles was tired of feeling incomplete. He was tired of the constant feeling of the bond feeling fragile. He knew how it felt if it broke. He knew the havoc it still does to him to this day.

His phone rang and it was a struggle to get his arm to reach out to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Mate."

Stiles closed his eyes at Derek's raspy, desperate voice.

"My Life." Stiles mumbled sadly.

A low growl vibrated out of the phone, "I should be claiming you right now."

"You still can. I'm in our den waiting."

A whimper met his ears and Stiles closed his eyes in helplessness. This is for Issac he repeated silently.

"Waiting for me, like a good little mate."

Stiles eyes opened when his curiosity flared suddenly, was Derek- was he trying to have phone sex right now?

"Waiting for my wolf's bite, but first he'd have to catch me. Prove to me he can keep up with me."

"I will always find a way to you."

Stiles' heart clenched at the finality in Derek's voice and then his dick twitched when Derek's voice went Deeper, "Especially when my little fox is in our den waiting for me. Waiting for my bite. My claim."

"Waiting for you to take what's yours, Baby."

Derek inhaled sharply, so Stiles continued.

"And I am yours and yours alone. My lips. My neck. My chest. My dick. My thighs. My ass. All waiting for you to mark them."

"I would mark all of you. I'd leave no question who you belong to."

Stiles smiled slyly, "Do you want to know how I imagined tonight going?"

"Yes." Derek rasped quietly.

"I would run with all my might, try to trick you, but knowing my wolf would find me. Void would fight you, he'd want the taste of blood in his mouth when he's claimed. You would flip me over after you made me submit, only to see I've run all this way with a plug in my ass. Ready for you to yank it out and-"

"Oh, no, no, Baby." Derek's breathless voice interrupted him, "If I was presented with such a gift, I'd slowly play with it first."

Stiles' breathing hitched and his hand that had been slowly running down his torso found his dick through his sleep pants, he slowly started to stroke himself through the material.

"I'd slowly work the plug out of your hole and twist it back in. Pumping in and out of you a few times. Fucking you with it until you were were begging for my dick."

Stiles was breathing heavier, still slowly teasing himself. He could hear fabric moving on the other end of the line. The knowledge Derek was also playing with himself made his dick harden further.

"But I wouldn't give it to you yet, no, my fingers wanted to open you up themselves. I'd start with one and move up to three. Maybe I'd try to paint the ground with your cum with just that first."

Stiles licked his lips, his balls tightening.

"Only then I'd release my wolf to take you."

Stiles actually whimpered at these words and his hand slid beneath his pants to stroke his dick.

"Not that fast, Stiles. Slower like you were over your pants."

Stiles both hated werewolf hearing and loved it all in the same moment right now, he slowed his hand.

"That's it, just like that."

Stiles moaned as he circled his head.

"Up, down, up, yes just like that my beautiful mate. Perfect." Stiles breathing grew ragged.

"I need you," Stiles breathed.

"I'm here."

Stiles whimpered because he knew that was all he could get right now. Derek's voice.

"Slow, slow for me, baby." Derek softly reminded him as Stiles tried to speed his pace up. He could hear Derek stroking himself at the same speed.

"Please." Stiles breathed

"I got you baby, I got you. Put the phone on speaker."

Stiles did as he was told and Derek immediately told him to close his eyes.

"I want you to picture me looking at you while you touch yourself. I want you to slowly slide your pants down."

Derek's murmured praise as he heard Stiles obeying his request.

"Spread those beautiful legs for me. Add another hand to work your head slowly while you continue to work your dick."

Stiles arched at the intense feeling of two hands on him. He pictured opening his eyes to see his mate seated in a chair at the end of the bed, watching him hungrily. Stiles would watch the hard rise and fall of Derek's chest as his breathing became labored, his large hand wrapped around himself.

Derek's breathing hitched slightly and Stiles moaned as it only helped his picture in his head.

"I miss you so much." Derek's voice was broken and could hear his hand pick up it's pace, so Stiles did too, causing Derek to moan loudly.

"So perfect." Derek growled, "I know you look so beautiful spread out for me."

Stiles added some pressure and almost lost his breath at the pleasure that sparked up his body.

"That's it, cum for me." Derek sounded just as gone as Stiles and with a few squeezes of his head he came with a shuddering breath.

As he came back down he heard Derek cum right after him.

The night was filled with both of their heavy breathing as they soaked in the afterglow.

"I miss you, Derek. It hurts."

"I miss you so much. I feel it too, love."

Stiles sighed and got up to clean himself and heard Derek doing the same.

When Stiles turned the lights back off and snuggled back into the blankets, he held Derek's pillow to his chest.

"Stiles?" Derek's concerned voice made Stiles' throat tighten with emotion.

"I'm here." He rasped softly.

There was a pause and Stiles felt Derek's frustrated helplessness settle in his chest.

"Will you stay with me until I fall asleep" Stiles' small voice spoke into the darkness, pretending he wasn't speaking to a phone but his Mate in the flesh.

Stiles relaxed some when he felt the helplessness ease into protective determination.

"I will be right here."

Stiles allowed his body to completely relax and Derek's breathing lulled him into relaxing.

The night before the court date Stiles couldn't sleep. He was pacing well into the early morning and then tossing and turning the other majority of it.

It was well past 6am when his exhausted body collapsed into a fitful sleep.

Stiles was woken by a soft touch to his hair, but immediately he tackled the person to the bed with a growl and the knife that was hidden under his pillow at their throat.

Derek's completely relaxed face looked up at him. Stiles threw the knife away quickly only to kiss the man deeply.

Stiles pulled back, "Tell me we won. Tell me our pup is home."

Derek's answer smile was blinding and Stiles surprised himself by the tears springing to his eyes. He quickly bounced off Derek to go to the living room.

Issac stood there, with his bags, similar tears in his eyes. The breath left Stiles as if he'd been kicked in the stomach and he stumbled slightly to bring the young boy into his arms.

"Welcome home." Stiles whispered into those golden locks and didn't mention the moisture he felt from where Isaac's head was nestled against his neck.

Stiles pulled back, "You hungry? You want pancakes? Blueberry, right? You want blueberry pancakes?"

Isaac's face was wet and his lip wobbled, but he nodded eagerly.

Stiles took a steadying breath and nodded, "Okay, you go get moved in and then we'll eat some food. Then we are going to get some decorations for your room."

Issac opened his mouth, but Stiles shook his head determinedly. That is your permanent space now, so is the rest of this place. Meaning this is to be your Den. Besides I have way too much money and nothing to spend it on."

After Issac shuffled off to go unpack, Stiles went immediately to the kitchen and pulled out a pad and pen.

"Okay," he spoke to himself, "We need to go to the grocery store and get so much more food. He's going to empty my pantry in a day." Stiles spoke fondly.

Strong arms wrapped around him and lips met his neck.

"He needs more clothes and school supplies." Derek's deep voice rumbled, even as his lips worked along Stiles' jaw.

Stiles added some things to the list.

"We need to get him a sound system and need to make his place a true Den."

Derek hummed in agreement.

"The surveillance is gone?" Stiles asked hesitantly.

Derek nodded, "Peter has people following them out of town to make sure that they leave and to see if they lead us anywhere. He also has people watching Mr. Lahey. He wasn't happy."

Stiles relaxed. He trusted Peter to handle this.

After they stuffed themselves full of pancakes the new little family piled into the jeep and the Camaro.

They hit the grocery store first and completely filled the truck, back, and the passenger seat of the Camaro with bags.

"I'm going to run this home, why don't you take him to the music store to get the sound system? I'll meet you guys there."

Stiles swiftly kissed Derek before they each headed their own way. Issac and Stiles pulling into the music store parking lot not ten minutes later.

"Get any records or CDs you want." Stiles spoke as the door to the store closed behind them. Stiles hand picked everything about the speakers and players. When they left they had bags full of the expensive equipment, but also stacks of CDs and a few new vinyls.

Both stopped in their tracks when they saw Cora and Derek talking amicably beside a new Toyota Camry. As they put the bags in the jeep, the siblings came over to them.

Issac kept looking from Derek to the car.

Derek smirked and held up the keys, "Listen to me, no speeding tickets, you will be home by eleven, you will let us know where you are going, don't wreck it."

Issac took the keys with shaking hands and wide eyes. His mouth opened and closed several times. Cora's turned adoring when Issac tried to blink away his tears.

With a blur of motion Issac threw his arms around Derek's neck. Then excitedly bounced toward Cora to celebrate with her.

"Go get some more clothes at the mall and school supplies. Don't forget the school supplies." Stiles said handing over some money.

Cora's eyes brightened, "I can text the others so they can meet us there!"

"This is money to spend on yourself," Derek met Isaac's eyes, "promise me."

Issac nodded and smirked when he accepted Stiles' pinky promise.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Issac chanted and he and Cora ran to the car.

"He does have his license, right?" Stiles snorted when Issac turned from where he was holding the door open for Cora to climb in and shouted, "I do, other Dad!"

"It's a good and safe car." Derek spoke as if he were reassuring himself as they drove off.

Stiles smiled softly and nudged him, "He'll be fine. Come on, we need to go get some cool furniture and decor."

After the Camaro and jeep were stocked with items they went back to their den to start work.

After a few hours and some help from Laura, Peter, Talia, and Stiles Parents Isaac's room looked completely different.

Stiles and his mom enlarged the room, closet, and the bed.

Claudia then moved to the new installed ensuite bathroom to put up the shower curtain, rugs, and soaps. She and Stiles finished it off with providing a small stockpile of their homemade first aid and sleep aids.

Derek installed the sound system and mounted the tv. Then went about setting up the CD player and seating up the CD organization.

Laura set up the pictures, side table, the small seating area, and the area rug. Finishing up with adding color changing lights around the perimeter of the ceiling.

Noah set up a small weapons rack by the door and then moved to the new bathroom to check all the plumbing and water supply.

Peter set up Isaac's new desk and chair. Then moved to the small reading nook in the far corner and stocked the shelves. Even adding some books he brought from the pack den.

Stiles finished the additions to the room by adding a hammock in a small glass dome, where the forest was visible behind one way glass and protected by his spells and sigils. The moss of the ground made it smell like the forest and the light rain that had started to fall slid down the side in little rivers.

Laura and his mother finished the ceiling by covering it in the old scratched records Stiles found in the free bin at the music store. Then weaved string lights crisscrossing the ceiling. Their power provided from those amber viens added to the rock by his mother a lifetime ago.

With a couple lamps placed the room was… amazing. Stiles felt pride grow as he saw his pack look around at their hard work happily.

"Come on," Stiles smiled and motioned them to the main living area, "I'll feed ya for your help."

Stiles was exhausted, but the way Derek couldn't seem to keep his hands off him was very distracting. They were alone, cuddled on the couch and Derek was driving him insane. Right as he was about to shove Derek's pants down he felt the vibration in his magic.

"Our pup is home." Stiles murmured against Derek's lips and snapped his fingers. The air seemed to sizzle and the growing smell of their lust was burned from the air.

Derek groaned but turned on the TV. Stiles moved off his lap, but left his legs across it.

Not a few minutes later all their pups stumbled through the door. Laughing loudly and all smiling.

"Did you do what we asked?" Derek asked as he lowered the remote.

Issac nodded quickly and each teen held up a few bags.

"We forced him to spoil himself!" Scott exclaimed proudly.

"Good." Stiles smiled softly, "Go put your stuff in your room." Stiles smirked mischievously.

Isaac's eyes narrowed, "My room is different?"

"Go look." Derek smirked as well. Issac ran down the hall, the other teens shuffling after him.

"Holy Shit!" Jackson's exclamation overpowered all the other voices around him.

Chapter Text

The three of them settled into an easy routine. Issac and the other pups would come straight to their den after school. Stiles has gotten used to the dog pile he was greeted with. He had even started to demand they pull out their homework so they could go ahead and get it done at the dining room table. Once they were done they would all move down the hall to go loung in Isaac's room.

They would grumble and groan when he would wordlessly point to the table briefly pausing what he was doing, some even at first tried to say they didn't have anything due the next day.

"I know you have something due either in a couple days or in a week. I went to school. If you truly don't have anything, be a good friend and help them."

Now almost 2 months in they didn't have to be directed and they all had a jump in grades. They even had projects done that weren't due for months. If Stiles didn't know any better he would say the teens liked their little routine they developed.

Even in the cold weather they would sometimes trudge out to play a few rounds of basketball. All yelling a greeting as Derek came to park beside Stiles' jeep.

Derek, as a teacher, couldn't leave right after school let out usually. So, it would be sometimes hours after thier pups entered the den that his car could be hear pulling up the gravel drive. Derek was an active member of the staff. He had tutoring groups and clubs that he helped out with. He had to set his room up for the next day and work on his filing. Moving the papers he graded into the out section and gathering all his classes' papers he needed to grade.

When he did come home he had multiple stacks of papers and quite a few emails from parents, students, and other teachers. Beyond that, Derek had to deal with so much more. No one really thinks about the politics among the school system, but Stiles had seen it take its toll. Hell, he'd gone through some of the same bullshit when he taught school.

Derek would always find Stiles as soon as the door was shut. It didn't matter if the teens were still present or not. Strong arms would hold stiles close and Stiles would automatically shift his neck so Derek could get his fill of Stiles' smell. The man would breath the spark in like he had forgotten how to breathe until Stiles was around. They didn't part from the others side for the rest of the afternoon. Derek and Stiles would either work at the dining room table, legs touching under the table, or relax on the couch, sometimes papers piled in their laps.

It was on one of those couch snuggling days that Stiles felt Derek staring at him... too much.

Stiles sat aside the mistletoe infused roped down by his other herb infused ropes, careful to not get it close to his Mate's body, and twisted to look into curious green eyes.

They looked at each other and Derek's curiosity grew, but the turn of his mouth said he was nervous.

Stiles moved his lesson prep aside completely and rolled his eyes, "I thought we talked about the whole communication thing."

Stiles turned sideways facing Derek, an arm leaned on the back.

Derek's fingers fidgeted, "I just don't want you to be angry."

"I'll be angerier if you don't tell me what's going on."

Derek nodded that he knew that would be true, "Can- can I talk to Void?"

Stiles blinked a few times, shocked. Whatever he thought this could be, this… wasn't it.

"Um," Stiles licked his lips as he fidgeted in his seat, "may I ask why?"

Derek turned to face Stiles as well, "I just have questions."

Stiles was quiet, but then nodded, "I guess it would be normal to have questions about this."

Stiles got more comfortable in his seat and then Derek could see a silent communication going on.

Derek saw Stiles leave and Void take over. Those inky depths somehow conveyed amusement even without the cocky smirk on his lips.

"You wanted to speak to me?"

"I have some questions."

Void hummed, "So, I heard."

Derek sat quietly trying to sort all his questions, but at Void's raised eyebrow his mouth just shot the first thing he could think of out of his mouth.

"Why do you protect Stiles?"

Void snorted, "Are you fucking kidding me? Out of all the questions you chose that?"

Derek didn't raise to the bait and instead just waited. Void grumbled that he wasn't able to get a rise out of him.

"He is my host. I am but a sliver of myself, a splinter that got left behind. Without him I die. The more powerful I can make my host, the better it is for me."

Derek stared at him for a second before in an almost scolding voice said, "You've never lied to me before."

Void bristled, "I did not lie."

Derek sighed, "You are speaking half truths."

Void looked uncertain for a second, "I will admit you are right, for once."

Derek rolled his eyes at the ceiling, Void was behaving like a child.

"At first it was about survival, but to live as we live, there are no secrets. I know Stiles as he was, is, and plans to be. This human outsmarted me at my full strength. I have seen things through him that an ancient being believes are dead in the world. His loyalty, his passion, his intelligence, but more than that his resilience. I found myself intrigued and protective."

"Why protective?"

"How can I just watch something that deserves respect get fucked over at every turn without becoming protective?"

"So he has earned your respect?"

"He is more than my host. He is my Stiles."

Derek stared wide-eyed before slowly nodding, "Thank you for being open with me."

Void looked frustrated again, "I am not good with emotions, but he would want me to try to communicate with you. He doesn't get this from me in words. I try to protect, but what does a demon touch that he does not taint? I picked well when I chose him all those years ago, but he would've been better without me. I am sure I am but an annoyance buzzing in his brain."

Derek hummed, "I don't think so, I think he has come to rely on you as well."

Void stared at him, but then turned to look forward, "Is that all you wanted to know?"

"I want to know who gave Stiles that brand on his shoulder."

A bright fire lit in those inky depths as they met his eyes, "I could not help him. I was useless."

"How did it happen?" Derek's voice was almost pleading.

Void shook his head slightly, "This is Stiles' story to tell. I will not betray his trust needlessly. If you would like to know his scars' origins you need to talk to him."

"Fair enough." Derek nodded.

"Are you done?" Void's patience was already thin to begin with, add emotions and it almost disappears.

"How are you still alive?"

Void pursed his lips,"I said I chose well and I did. This host. He is strong. He survived me. His soul is bright and nourishes me. It allowed a single leaf left and broken to take root and grow into a vine."

Derek leaned forward, "But what nourishes you? What powers you?"

Void's face turned to stone and he couldn't look at Derek, "I am a chaos demon, idiot. What do you think?"

Those black orbs found Derek's face then, and Derek almost flinched at their intensity, black tendrils flowing from Void's eyes under the skin out down his face .

"Trauma, chaos, strong emotions… they all add to my power. I said if my host dies I die and that's true for me in this weakened form, but it's not true if I was at full power. I would suck my host dry. Their lives would fall apart around them. I'd drive them insane. Feeding off everything I caused. I could have my own form, but to successfully feed a host is so useful. Most hosts die. My Stiles wouldn't. My true equal. I ruined so much for him and took so much from him. He would not die."

It was silent for a little while.

"I was attracted to his body because I could feel the trauma and sadness already inside him. Little human who runs with wolves. I watched his memories of so many terrible things. I was there for new pain. I heard his thoughts in those moments. I know him better than anyone in his life and he knows me better than anyone ever has. We both tried to kill the other. We both failed. Equals."

"So that is why he has your respect?"

"We are equals."

It was silent until Void looked at Derek, "I am going to bring him back if you are done."

"Wait," Derek reached out to take his hand, he could see the confusion and caution in Void's posture, "next full moon we are going on the claiming run."

Void's shocked eyes met Derek's face as this was new to Void and Stiles.

"I wanted to tell you before we run that I will be claiming all of my Mate that night. Accepting all of him. You are a large part of him. Just as big as his spark. So when I claim him, I am claiming you as well. I love him and so I love you."

Void growled slowly, "Pretty words mean nothing to me, Little Wolf. Our love for you is overshadowed by my love of my Stiles. He purrs at your words, they swell his heart, but he knows me well. I will fight you that night. If you can beat me, you can protect him better than I can. That is a Mate I will submit to. Stiles would be mad, but he would be safe with me. Only the strongest that would add to his protection will be accepted."

"What about emotional protection? I've seen him after you take full control"

Void flinched as if that question physically hurt them.

"My Stiles has lived through much, only some of it was because of me. Might I remind you that a giant life changing emotional trauma was caused by your mirror. Do you think that sometimes he looks at you and has to remind himself that you aren't him?"

It was Derek's turn to flinch.

"Might I also remind you that you were hurting him until I intervened."

Derek had to look at his hands.

"Do not talk to me about emotional protection. I will protect my Stiles through anything I can. I have my own guilt, I do not need a child thinking they know better to question my protection."

"I am sorry." Derek whispered, looking at the angry demon.

Void eyes turned to slits, "Do not be sorry, you are learning, Young One."

Void suddenly disappeared and he left a confused and wide eyed Stiles staring at Derek.

"So the next full moon?"

Derek nodded, it was silent.

"I- I need to go for a run. I will be back."

Stiles leaned forward to quickly kiss his Mate to show he was fine, just needed to think, before he swiftly stood and disappeared into the bedroom.

He felt the panic born from too much at once slowly building. He needed to be gone when it happened.

He felt void tentatively reaching out to check on him, he immediately answered the demon's call. Void's words were swirling rapidly in his brain and he knew he couldn't hide it from him.

Stiles ran and ran for hours. Sweat soaked through his clothes and he had to stop to catch his breath a few times.

Finally stopping to sit on a cliff ledge he has never found before. The sun was low in the sky and he knew it would be dark by the time he would make it back.

Hours passed and it grew dark even as he sat there. The calm around him helped him process.

He wasn't angry, but he needed this, needed space to understand what he thought about everything.

Eventually he slowly stood and made it back to the den. It was quiet when he walked through the doors. Everyone was asleep and a note on the table told him there were leftovers in the fridge waiting for him.

He slowly walked, as if in a trance to the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

In the low amber light Derek looked so beautiful, his chest rising and falling slowly in sleep. Stiles stood at the end of the bed as an overwhelming happiness slowly spread over him.

This man trusted him, made a cave a den, and made him a father. He took care of Stiles and wanted to claim him.

As stiles' eyes swept over his body, a possessiveness took over the happiness. This man was his. All his. His dick twitched thinking of how his ass feels around his dick. About the sweet noises he makes.

Derek mumbled and then his eyes slowly opened sleepily. They then snapped to Stiles. Derek tensed as if he didn't know the mood he was going to be met with, but as he smelled the air Stiles knew he'd smell him.

A growl rose from his mate and went straight to his dick. Bending he gripped Derek's ankles to drag him towards him.

"Welcome back." Derek breathed and he helped wiggle out of his boxers.

Stiles dropped to his knees and immediately lifted Derek's legs over his shoulders to attack his ass with his mouth.

Derek's hand found Stiles' hair as he moaned deeply. Stiles loosened him up with his tongue and when he experienced no resistance from the hole he stood up.

"Slide a finger inside yourself. I want to see you open yourself up for me."

Derek tried to turn over, but Stiles stopped him, "No Baby, I want to see your face."

Derek groaned as his fingers entered him. Stiles' breathing picked up as he watched those beautiful fingers disappear into his Mate.

Derek's eyes snapped open when Stiles lifted his shirt over his head, the rustle of fabric alerting the wolf.

Derek couldn't look away as Stiles stripped in front of him. Stiles dick was already hard, but Stiles still stroked himself a few times.

When Derek's hips started to slowly meet his hand Stiles moved forward.

"No," Derek stopped Stiles' hand from where it was reaching for the bedside table where the lube was, "I want you to finish working me open with your dry cock. I want to feel the pain."

Stiles moved back and lined himself up. He thrust in roughly and Derek screamed. Stiles didn't stop moving and Derek shook underneath him.

"Are you okay?" Stiles rasped.

"Don't fucking stop. Harder. Please. Please. Please."

Stiles moved forward in his position, using his thighs to pin Derek's legs up into the air.

Bending down he gripped the sheets over Derek's head to add force to his movements. His hips coming up only to slam forward with a loud slap of skin meeting skin.

Stiles groaned loudly as he felt Derek's nails break the skin on his back.

Derek breathed Stiles' name as Stiles licked his neck. Stiles let go of the sheets to instead grip Derek's hair and neck to use Derek's own body to help slam it into his dick.

Void didn't even need to add power this time, Stiles wanted to leave his own mark.

Derek froze and tensed underneath him, his nails piercing Stiles' back again. Both yelling out as Derek came.

Stiles didn't stop his hips the entire time and soon yelled with his own orgasm. His own cum adding a delicious slide to Derek's hole as Stiles thrust through it.

Both trudged up to the top of the bed and passed out. Tomorrow Stiles had a class to teach anyway.

"Today we are going over torture and restraints."

"Do we get to tie you up?" Jackson laughed but was cut short by a sharp punch to the arm from Derek.

"The purpose of this lesson," Stiles continued as if nothing happened, "is just to expose you to the pain."

His class shuffled uneasily, "The pain will be overwhelming, but I am going to teach you breathing techniques and how to dissociate to help. We can move to trying to free yourself from that point. But you will not be able to try and escape immediately usually. So you need to conserve your energy for the escape attempt. Meaning enduring a lot of pain. In some cases you can't break your chains and you have to wait for rescue. If you want confirmation ask Nick," he started pointing as he listed, "Noah, Peter, Derek, and myself. You let the pain overwhelm you then you lose the battle right there. You need to be able to think through it. Move through it. Breathe through it."

It was silent for a long second, "Listen I am not doing this because I want to see you in pain, I am doing this because if the time comes I want to see you live through it. I will be talking you through it and there with you throughout the entire thing. We are also going to start on the lowest pain setting and go from there. Nick, Peter, and Noah are all on call to carry you off the field when I call it done. This does not mean you pass or fail. This is just exposing you and letting your mind understand the pain. If I call it you can not say otherwise. You are done if I say you are done. We are not going to push you to the complete edge, just near it. My mom and Talia are on call with an overwhelming amount of first aid. We will not leave you in pain. We are your pack and we care about you. Remember you are not alone."

Pride swelled in his chest as he saw his students start to measure their breathing and control their fear. He just hoped they could keep it up.

"We're going to start with mountain ash infused rope. Please form a line. You will only be tied at the wrists for the first time."

He turned and his stomach dropped, Issac stood at the front of the line. He swallowed thickly, but he kept his face neutral.

"Are you ready?" His voice came out smaller than he intended.

Isaac's face softened, even if there were fear in his eyes, "I know pain, Dad, I know how to beat it."

Stiles quickly cupped Isaac's cheek in quick comfort. Pulling back he squared his shoulders and saw Issac mirror him.

Isaac's scream cut him to his core. He talked the entire time and was beyond proud at how quickly Issac evened out his breathing. Those eyes snapped open to look at him glowing gold clear as day.

"That's my boy." Stiles encouraged, "move your arms up and then down."

Issac's shaking limbs moved.

"Yes! That's it! Now take a step forward."

Issac almost stumbled, but accomplished it.

"Unbelievable! You are doing great! Now tell me how you could fight being tied like this?"

Issac was quiet for a second, sweat forming on his brow, and labored breathing hitting Stiles face, "I could hide, then wrap someone's ankle in the extra blinding. Using that I could break their leg."

Stiles beamed in pride, "Perfect. Simple bone can't stand a chance against you. You're done."
He quickly untied the rope and tossed it aside, just in time to catch Isaac's shaking body.

"You amaze me." Stiles spoke into his hair as his son gripped tightly to him.

Suddenly Nick and Peter were there, "We'll take care of him." Peter whispered as he gently took the boy away from Stiles.

Stiles breathed deeply through his emotions. Torture as he knew could be in other forms than physical and sometimes self inflicted.

"Next!"

His students all made it through. Some only moved their arms slightly before being caught by Stiles, but they all controlled their breathing. He was ecstatic and he made sure to let them know.

"Now mistletoe. This is less pressure, but more pain."

Issac made it through again, "Tell me how you'd use your bindings in a fight?"

"I'd burn them if they were werecreatures, I'd tackle them then strangle them with the rope if they were human."

Stiles caught him again and handed him over.

Scott stepped forward, "This looks like what I- what he- the other me was tied up with when he died."

Stiles halted suddenly, "It is what she used, yes."

Scott looked at the rope with a hatred Stiles had never seen before. He came closer and held out his wrists, "He didn't scream out and neither will I."

Stiles hesitated, "It was far from his first time, Scott. I don't want you to get your hopes up."

Scott's face twisted in concern, "Your life-" Scott stopped, unsure what to say.

Stiles reached out to squeeze his shoulder, "This is why we are doing this. So you can survive. I will not let anything happen to you."

Scott squared his shoulder and Stiles had to close his eyes as his scream bounced off the nearby trees.

By the end of the day everyone was exhausted but everyone had at least broken free from one type of restraint.

"Mom," Stiles called and she strode onto the field with her bag on her shoulder, "I want everyone to get some of those calming herb capsules and a double check on their skin and mind. Can you do that for me?"

She stroked his cheek and he allowed himself to lean into the touch, "How are you?"

Stiles smiled gratefully, "Just tired."

Claudia hummed softly as if she didn't quite believe him, but didn't push as she moved away to the grouped teens.

He met Derek's eyes over Issac's head which was burrowed into his Mate's chest. Derek offered a tired, but encouraging smile.

No one said anything as Cora silently followed them on the way back to their den, her hand never leaving Isaac's. Her eyes were far away and Stiles made a note to check in on her at some point.

The den was quiet, but it surprised Stiles when Cora came up to him first.

"Are you okay?" Her small voice surprised him.

He sat down the spoon he was using to stir the pasta he was making.

"Are you?" He asked just as softly.

She shook her head, "I can't imagine that type of pain becoming something you get used to."

Stiles shook his head, "not used to, but workable."

She nodded, looking deep in thought.

"Issac handled it the best out of all of us." Her questioning gaze looked to him for answers.

"When pain becomes part of your daily life it can be easier to manage other pain, but if you have questions about that you need to talk to Issac. I will not speak for him."

Cora breathed deeply, "You are a good dad, Stiles." She left him speechless as she walked away.

That night Stiles woke from nightmare after nightmare. Finally he decided to get some cereal. The food that cures all at 4am in the morning.

He shouldn't have been surprised when Issac looked up from his own bowl of cereal at the table when Stiles closed the door to the bedroom behind him.

"Nightmares?" Issac asked.

Stiles just nodded as he went to get his own bowl and spoon. Sitting in front of the boy he sighed as he poured some frosted flakes into his bowl.

They were silent for a while before Issac shifted uneasily.

"Cora asked me… about.. everything."

Stiles looked up at the boy who couldn't seem to look at him. So, Stiles hummed and went back to eating, "How'd that go?"

Issac huffed, "I froze! I couldn't- I mean I know- I just-" Issac sighed and sagged a little, "I know she heard in the trial about… things, but that was clinical, ya know? What I needed for a means to an end, but what she was asking… it was from someone who cares. Someone who wanted to know so they could better understand me. That is so different."

Stiles' hands shook slightly and his brain fired with activity, he knew exactly what Issac was saying and Issac knew it by looking at him. Embolden but that, Issac continued, "To speak of things that happened is one thing, to speak as the person they happened to is terrifying."

"You need to be ready before you open that box, Issac." Stiles spoke seriously.

"Have you shared everything with Derek?"

Stiles was quiet for a second, "No. He knows instances like you said, but he doesn't know what dances through my head."

"Do you not trust him?"

"I trust him with my life. To expose everything like that is to be just as vulnerable as when it happened and you are leaving yourself open to another person's words and actions out of your control afterwards. They could accidentally say something to make things worse if you aren't ready. They could say everything right and that leaves you feeling like the blackness on such light if you aren't ready. You could trigger a panic attack or spiral. It isn't something to take lightly and anyone who says it's just talking doesn't understand the level of what we're saying. We can talk with the best of them, but what are we really revealing?"

"I love you." Issac's words stole Stiles' breath for a second, until he slowly reach to gently touch Issac's hand, "I love you more, Little One."

They ate in silence and as they put their dishes in the sink to go back to bed, stiles stopped Issac with a quick call of his name, "I will stand by whatever you decide and through anything."

Issac smiled softly, "I know. Get some sleep. You have a claiming run in a few days."

Stiles froze as his words sunk in. He only had a couple days before his shoulder would bear his Mate's mark.

Chapter Text

Stiles groaned loudly, much to Derek's sleepy amusement, as they were woken by Derek's phone ringing sharply on the bedside table.

"Hello?" Derek's rough voice did things to Stiles' brain, but right now he was torn between telling him to shut up and climbing on top of him.

"What?"

Stiles could hear a female voice on the other line.

"Do you know what time it is?"

Stiles snuggled in closer to his mate and hummed, pleased as Derek's arm automatically tightened around him.

"Who is it?" Stiles mumbled against Derek's neck.

"Mom." Derek deadpanned, not hiding his exasperation.

"Tell her I said if it isn't life or death to go back to sleep. She's too pretty to not understand what beauty sleep is."

Stiles could hear Talia chuckling faintly through the phone.

"Mom, he's right. You are doing that thing where you get anxious," Stiles smiled as he slid to straddle Derek and smirked when Derek continued talking, even as his free hand came to rest on Stiles' hip without hesitation, "and don't go to sleep, because you have a million things running through your head," Stiles let his hand run down the soft skin of Derek's chest and enjoyed the quick questioning glance his Mate sent his way, "til you call one of your children at- 3 in the fucking morning to spill your guts to make yourself feel better."

Stiles wiggled down so he could kiss along Derek's torso, ignoring the intense glare he was receiving.

"Of course Laura didn't answer, Mom!"

Stiles nibbled along Derek's pants line and smirked when a warning hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Mom, I will talk to you in the morning. I swear, but I need to go right now. Go to bed."

Suddenly Stiles was pinned under a very frustrated werewolf.

"Listening to my mother while I think about you sucking my dick is not what I have in mind as a fun time."

Stiles giggled and a giant smile grew across his face when Derek smiled softly down at him.

Derek pressed a soft gentle kiss to the tip of Stiles nose before rolling off of him, "Now, it's sleep time, Baby."

Stiles didn't fight it, instead letting his eyes slide closed as Derek pulled him back into his chest. Stiles let his body relax into the bed, knowing Derek was right there, Stiles fingertips lightly pressed against Derek's arm around him in case his subconscious needed the reminder.

"Hey."

Stiles grumbled as hot breath tickled against his throat. A deep chuckle vibrated against his back.

"Hey, wake up."

"No." Stiles grumbled and snuggled deeper into covers.

"Hey, it's a beautiful day."

Stiles softly growled, causing Derek to shake the bed with silent laughter.

"Guess what day it is?"

"Don't let Stiles sleep day? You and your mother are clearly celebrating."

"No," Stiles could practically hear Derek's eyes rolling, "do you know what's going to happen tonight?"

"Ugh." Stiles wiggled to turn to face the smug looking wolf, "I'm obviously not getting to go back to sleep so what happens tonight?"

"I get to bite you," Derek ran his hand down Stiles' neck to rest at the base, "right here."

Stiles leaned more into Derek's hand and smiled, even as a sense of uneasiness crawled up his spine. Derek won't back out. Derek won't back out.

Derek's eyes flashed gold, "You're going to look so beautiful with my mark."

Stiles immediately felt relief wash through him to the point he was almost lightheaded. Derek didn't know how much those words meant. Stiles eagerly pushed up to meet Derek's lips, relishing in the weight of Derek leaning into him.

It seemed a switch was flipped inside Stiles' mate as Derek's hands seemed to not know where they wanted to touch. He kissed his way down Stiles' throat, only to nibble at the spot he would later mark.

Stiles let himself fall into the feel of Derek's touch. His breathing came out in broken gasps when one of Derek's hands came to rub Stiles' dick through his pants.

"Do you trust me?" Derek's voice was tense as his other hand came to glide along the side of Stiles' neck.

Stiles' answering nod was jerky, but then his eyes rolled back in his head when Derek's large hand came to wrap firmly around his throat. Derek growled and his canines dropped down when Stiles couldn't stop himself from moving his hips into Derek's hand.

Stiles' back arched when Derek's hand roughly started to pull at Stiles sweatpants.

Stiles wiggled to help slide them down his legs and shivered as Derek seemed to have trouble controlling his claws, so they scraped along Stiles' skin.

As soon as the clothes hit the floor Derek was kissing along Stiles' torso and a clawed hand rubbed along Stiles' hardening dick before Stiles could even blink.

"Fucking hell." Stiles groaned, his hand coming to run down Derek's back.

Stiles knew how wolves were with the full moon, but as Derek bit playfully into his hip Stiles decided he truly loved the full moon.

"I am going to fuck you tonight and then I am going to mark you. Make you mine."

Stiles ran a hand through Derek's hair, "I want you. In every way. I want you to mark me in every possible way."

Derek's face snapped to Stiles', his eyes flashed bright gold.

It went straight to Stiles' dick and he could help the small thrust into Derek's hip.

The wolf's growl vibrated against Stiles' chest which just heightened his own need.

"How would you feel about a little practice run?"

Stiles grumbled, "With actual running?"

Derek chuckled and kissed Stiles pouting lips, "No, I just mean I get you nice and opened up for later. I could make you cum on my fingers. Would you like that?"

Stiles wiggled as Derek's fingertips running down his side took a whole new meaning.

"Maybe just a little practice?" Stiles bit his lip.

Derek chuckled as he guided Stiles closer to him. Kissing him until Stiles felt dizzy.

Stiles moved his hips in small thrusts, moaning softly as their dicks rubbed against each other. He was nervous as hell but he wanted to be ready for tonight. He wanted to give Derek the night he deserved.

Derek slid his fingers into Stiles' mouth and the spark immediately accepted them.

When Derek moved his fingers down to Stiles' hole they were lubed with Stiles' own saliva. Stiles' breathing hitched as Derek's fingers softly circled him. He didn't realize he had stopped breathing when Derek added some pressure until Derek's other hand was running up and down stiles' back.

"Breathe, baby."

Stiles took a deep breath into his lungs and shuddered as he saw stars from the sudden rush of oxygen into his brain.

Stiles moaned loudly as Derek's finger slid into him, head going to Derek's shoulder when his mate quickly added a second.

Stiles' hands came up to grip the pillow on either side of their heads. His breathing picked up with every drag of those fingers.

It wasn't long until Stiles found his hips moving with Derek's movements, his dick sliding along Derek's stomach between them.

"Fuck," Stiles gritted his teeth as his wards flared to life, his hands gripped Derek's shoulders harder, "Someone just drove up."

Derek growled, "I genuinely don't care."

Stiles groaned as Derek hiked Stiles' body up the bed so his fingers were able to slide deeper into him.

Stiles lifted his leg higher and tucked his head into Derek's neck as his body began to tense.

Derek's growling intensified in possessiveness and he wrapped his free arm around Stiles' body.

The person must be at the door.

"Mine."

Stiles shouldn't find that as hot as he does but he didn't even hesitate to nod frantically against Derek's neck, "Yours."

Derek growled and suddenly Stiles was flipped onto his stomach with Derek behind him. Stiles yelled out as Derek's tongue was added to the overwhelming stimulus happening to his body.

With the new angle Derek's fingers slid just right to make Stiles see stars.

His orgasm hit him like a Mack truck with his breath leaving him in a loud moan.

His body fell to the bed shaking slightly even as he heard Derek stroking himself frantically over him. Stiles moaned when he felt Derek's cum hit his back, only to have Derek collapse onto the bed beside him a second later.

Their heavy breathing, the only sound besides the constant banging on the door that Stiles just now acknowledged.

"It's Laura." Derek grumbled into Stiles hair as he brought their sticky bodies together.

"I really hate your family right now."

Derek chuckled even as he sighed to roll out of bed.

"I'll go see what she wants." He said as he slid on his basketball shorts.

"Okay." Stiles spoke into the pillow.

He didn't see Derek's soft smile, but he felt the bed dip as Derek leaned with one knee on the bed over his boneless mate to softly kiss his shoulder softly, "I love you."

Stiles couldn't stop the floating bliss flowing through his entire body at such a genuine simple moment, "I love you so much, Big Guy."

Stiles let his eyes slide closed as Derek ran a hand softly down his back as he got up to leave the room.

Stiles smirked at Laura's shrieked, "Gross." When she smelled her brother.

After a few minutes Stiles stumbled out of the bed to their bathroom to clean himself up, ignoring the heated argument going on in the living room.

As the hot water cascaded down his back Stiles rolled his neck and shoulders to work out his muscles under the massaging spray.

He was so relaxed that he didn't even jump when large hands wrapped around his hips.

He immediately leaned back into that now familiar chest, closing his eyes as Derek's mouth found his shoulder.

"What does Laura want?"

Derek growled, "We apparently have to be separate for the whole day leading up to the run."

Stiles' frowned and he turned to look up at Derek's unhappy face.

"No." Stiles stated plainly.

Derek's answering smile was Stiles' oxygen at the moment as panic was clawing its way through Stiles' body. How would he be able to read Derek's body language? How would he know that Derek really wanted this? How would he know Derek was going to not run? How would he kn-

"She is here to spend the day with you and the pack is supposed to distract me."

Stiles scowled, "I don't like it."

"Neither do I."

Stiles took a shuddering breath, "Please don't leave me."

Derek looked like his entire heart was just ripped out his chest and a soft hand came to cup Stiles' face.

"Is that what's upsetting you? Your anxiety is telling you I might back out? That I might not want you?"

Stiles felt shame wash over him, "I know it's stupid. I know you-"

He was cut off by Derek kissing him softly, when Derek pulled back Stiles swallowed loudly at the serious expression on his Mate's face.

"I know you know what your brain tells you isn't always true, but it still upsets you. I'm not upset, I just want to punch my family in the face right now, because I can't do what we both want right now."

Stiles tucked his head under Derek's chin and sighed as Derek immediately wrapped him tightly into his arms.

"I love you," Derek murmured into Stiles wet hair, "I will see you soon. I will be waiting for you as soon as you get to the house and I will run with all my might, fight with all my might so you will always be mine."

Stiles couldn't help it as his tears fell down his face. Derek walked them out of the shower and stiles didn't try to hide his anxiety fueled breakdown. The bond was already hurting at the impending absence. Stiles' hands shook as Derek dressed him.

They stood in the room, holding each other and Derek just whispered his love for the Spark as Stiles cried.

"I'm so scared," Stiles finally sobbed, "I can't handle… I'm so sorry."

Derek shushed him softly, "You've been through so much, my love. Have been abandoned by everyone. Don't apologize for being scared that it might happen again."

"I love you."

Derek turned his head to kiss him gently, "I love you, my little fox."

Stiles wiped his face and finally stood on his own, "Okay, I'll see you?"

"I'll be waiting for you at sunset."

Stiles hugged himself as he followed after Derek into the living room, through the open door. Stiles couldn't make eye contact as he realized Derek left the door open on purpose. If they were going to separate them Laura would have to hear the damage it caused. His smart little wolf, but it didn't make him feel better.

Derek kissed him before walking through the door and away from him. Stiles clutched his chest as his already frayed bonds shuddered in fear.

He doesn't know how long he stood there, but when he turned to go sit at his herb counter Laura was looking guilty and couldn't meet his eye.

Stiles wondered how she was managing, but then he reminded himself she had never experienced a bond breaking. She would be feeling nothing but excitement and certainty.

She made her excuses about an hour later and Stiles didn't even turn as she walked out the door.

The hours passed at a sluggish pace and if he focused on the flickering bond he would get glimpses of Derek's current mood. His mate was pissed.

An evil smile slowly grew on his face as he got flashes of stubbornness and sarcasm. Yes Baby, he thought, give them hell. Make them regret ever thinking of separating us.

Stiles struggled with his dark thoughts as memories of the last time he felt the bond flare to life. He hadn't understood it then. Not until he researched the feeling later.

He sighed loudly as he roughly shoved away from the counter. Switching your environment is to switch your mindset. Lydia's soft voice floated through his mind. She would always try to find little coping mechanisms for him.

God. He missed her. Missed her soft understanding eyes.

Sharp worry sliced into him from the bond. Stiles hated himself. He needed to remember that the bond went both ways. Derek doesn't need his heavy thoughts added to the day anymore.

Stiles squared his shoulders and, even though he knew it was pointless, told himself to just focus on the moment. Right here. Right now.

Stiles was restless as he repacked his book bag of supplies for the 12th time, but it was time to leave for real this time. His bag was stuffed with some first aid, lube, and extra clothes. The bag's outer pockets are full of his herbs and pain potions.

As he passed over his boundary it sang out its excitement to him. He bent to send a grateful vibration through his spark.

The sun was low in the sky as he emerged from the woods, the pack was already there. Their energy was electric and fizzled in the air, but Stiles' eyes found Derek and a thrill ran down his spine as Derek was standing stock still staring at him.

He was waiting like he said, ignoring every chaotic thing going on around him in favor of watching Stiles' progress toward him.

Stiles was halfway to him when Derek apparently felt he was taking too long and in a blur of motion Stiles found himself wrapped in Derek's arms.

Stiles' knees buckled, even as he gripped onto Derek with his entire might. Over Derek's shoulder he saw Laura sitting in Jordan's lap on the porch. They both had empty plates by them.

Stiles felt white hot anger roll through his body, "How long have they been together?"

Derek growled as he pulled back, "Hours."

A silence so thick overtook the pack that Stiles took a sick joy picturing it a tangible thing he could shove down Laura's throat.

Talia was standing in front of him in a blink of an eye, "They have to wait another month because of her failing to stay away. That is her punishment."

Stiles' shoulders relaxed slightly and he truly didn't like the terror in Laura's eye. He felt shame added to his twisted thoughts. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't a monster.

"She will be in pain?" Stiles' voice was forced out between his teeth, barely audible over the wind.

Talia swallowed audibly, "You know she will. They both will."

Stiles didn't say anything as he slowly moved forward. It seemed the only thing people could move was their heads as the packed watched his measured gait toward his friend.

With a growl Jordan went to stand up, ready to protect his mate, but she stopped him with a small touch to his forearm.

Stiles stopped just under a foot away and they stared at each other. He opened his mouth and she flinched. More pain shot through him. He closed his mouth.

"It hurt." She sounded so small to him then. More anger weaved it's way into his gut.

"You talk to me of pain?" His voice was hoarse from disuse. He let all his walls and scent blockers down. Letting the pack smell for the first time his frayed bonds. Smell all of him. The volcanic burn of Void. The tingling pop of his spark. His broken pack bonds from the pack he left behind. The broken mate bond. All smelling of burning flesh, as it was truly a part of him that died. He usually hid these on principle.

He turned when he heard a commotion to find Derek having to be held up by Talia, but he was still staring at Stiles with nothing but love.

Stiles turned back to find Laura with tears running down her face.

"Touch my arm." His voice cracked, "Touch my arm and if you can last a full minute I will fall at our Alpha's feet and beg for you to be able to run tonight."

She licked her lips and, even though her hand shook, she softly laid a hand to him.

She gasped and couldn't stop her bright gold eyes flaring as the first small amount of pain hit her. Stiles watched those black veins lengthen along her skin in slight wonder.

One.

More tears fell from her eyes.

Two.

Some tears fell onto her shirt.

Three.

Stiles met her horror filled eyes.

Four.

A whimper fell from her lips.

Five.

"It helps if you gain control of your breathing." He softly reminded.

Six.

She struggled to bring air in through her nose and out through her mouth.

Seven.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was nothing but a wheeze.

Eight.

She let go suddenly and fell off Jordan's lap at Stiles' feet.

Stiles sighed heavily as all his pain came back. Closed his eyes for a solid second and put his barriers back up.

He half turned to look back at Talia, who was still holding a shaking Derek, "I believe," his voice was loud and measured, "that Derek and I, being the only injured parties in this, could potentially appeal to the Alpha to overturn a punishment brought upon another pack member, correct?"

Talia stood up straight and met his hard eyes, even as a tear disappeared down her cheek. She nodded, "If both of you are willing to overlook this then I wouldn't mind changing my ruling."

Stiles nodded immediately, but Derek took longer, finally giving one short jerk of his head.

Talia nodded, "It's settled then."

Stiles turned to help a shivering Laura to her feet, "Come, I have some healing things in my bag."

The pack almost immediately returned to eating and talking as he led her into the house. Sighing in relief when the noise stopped as the door closed. He led her to the bathroom upstairs. She didn't even blink as he casually lifted her onto the bathroom counter.

She was quiet as he used his spark to check her over. When he handed her a calming potion it seemed to be too much for her.

"I- I really am sorry. I think only of myself sometimes. I knew you were in pain, but-"

She paled.

Stiles sighed heavily,"I have felt this bond snap into place before. Not the hint of one like a bond does before it's recognized, when you can misunderstand it, but the kind that spreads through your chest like a blanket and over your mind like a soothing balm. The bond of two mates who are sure and proud of one another."

Stiles sat down on the toilet lid as she looked down on him from her perch.

"You feel safe, loved, and seen. I got to feel all that before… for all about 3 seconds before it was ripped away and he changed his mind. Rejection syndrome is unbearable. Every. Damn. Day. You learn to live with the pain. Things will never be as easy as it is for some other people. You learn to live with that too. I truly died from pain that day Laura, but the fucked up thing is that I kept living. In my own personal hell being burned alive while the people I loved watched, not being able to help. I felt I was being selfish and sadistic. Just because I had to live with this didn't mean my loved ones had to suffer with me. It took me a while, but I became really good at hiding it. Hiding that my baseline was not where theirs was. Just because I moved the goal posts though doesn't mean it's not a struggle. Do you understand?"

Laura nodded, "I think I'm starting to."

"I am sorry for the display outside."

She shook her head, "You we're angry."

Stiles nodded, "I was," he stood back up to stand before her, "but what made me the most upset was when you flinched back from me."

He softly ran his fingers across her cheek, "I do not want you to be afraid of me. I will not take my anger out on you again. You did not deserve that."

Laura leaned into his touch," I did deserve it, but Stiles I am not an idiot, I can't not be frightened of you. You could kill every single person in this house. Even a wolf can feel like prey."

Stiles frowned slightly and let his hand drop, "I cannot argue with that."

Laura smirked softly as she wrapped her arms around his middle, "I love it when you admit I'm right."

Stiles huffed petulantly even as he returned her hug, "I don't believe that's what I said."

Laura giggled into his chest. They stayed like that for a while.

She pulled back to cup his cheek, "Lydia was a very lucky girl to call you hers and my brother is beyond lucky to call you mate."

With one soft pat to his cheek she was sliding out of the bathroom and down the hall.

He wasn't alone long before familiar hands wrapped around his shoulders, massaging softly. Immediately Stiles melted into the touch.

"You're too nice."

Derek's tember voice filled with affection was galaxies away from the voice still filling his head calling him a monster.

"Stop letting your brain be mean to you."

At Derek's soft command Stiles huffed bitterly, "Yeah, because that works."

Immediately he felt ashamed, Derek just wanted to help, he didn't need Stiles being a brat.

Derek gently held Stiles' face so he had to look into his face. Derek took his time studying him, before his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"No, no, you don't take any of this on, okay?" Stiles demanded, even as he made sure not to move out of Derek's hold.

Derek's eyebrows changed and Stiles huffed a small laugh, "Yes, I do understand the hypocrisy of my statement."

Derek's eyebrows changed yet again.

Stiles moved to tuck his head under Derek's chin, "I love you too, Big guy."

"I hate that even I didn't know how much pain you were in. I don't want you to hide things like that from me."

Stiles was quiet for a second, "My mind tells me so many things that I am afraid I will be nothing but a burden if I ask for help with it. It's every single day."

Derek gripped him tighter, "I love you and chose you exactly the way you are every damn day. Plus, it's not just you. Here, I can take the first step so you realize that it's a two way street, okay?"

Stiles was confused, but then Derek was talking again, "Hearing you talking about accepting a bond to someone that wasn't me makes me possessive and drives my wolf insane. The bastard won't stop pacing in my head right now."

Stiles froze as understanding washed over him, Derek was saying Stiles couldn't be a burden when they both needed each other's guidance.

"You were listening?"

Derek huffed, almost sounding offended, "I wasn't letting you away from me after everything."

Stiles smiled against Derek's neck, "Of course you would focus on the accepting of the bond and NOT that it was rejected within seconds and that it was technically you and that I'm in a completely different universe."

Derek actually relaxed and Stiles chuckled. When Derek next spoke his voice was small and measured.

"I wake up from nightmares where you are suddenly sent back to your universe and I am left without you."

The admission was like a knife to Stiles' heart and he held on a little tighter.

"It was worse when we weren't together and I couldn't wake up beside you. God, it was the worst when I didn't know where you lived yet. My wolf wouldn't stop twitching and whining, so I would slowly patrol the woods. Hoping, against all odds, that you would suddenly appear in front of me."

Stiles suddenly realized that Derek would also be having affects of the confused bond. Would and had for a long time.

Stiles sighed, it was his turn, "I genuinely don't know if I'm a good person or not. The things I've done and seen… I'm terrified to ask. Too disbelieving when someone would paint me in a positive light. Only Lydia and Scott knew how dark my thoughts could get. They would tell me… well I wanted to believe, sometimes I came close, but I don't know."

Derek manoeuvred Stiles to look at him, "Out of all the universes out there your spark chose mine. I don't know if it was pure luck or if something about this universe pulled stronger than the others, but I am so lucky, so blessed to have you in my life. You are a good person, because a little bent and rough edges doesn't damage the overall picture."

Stiles shuddered as Derek gently leaned in to kiss him.

When Derek pulled back he made Stiles meet his eyes, "And Baby, you are made of some of the most beautiful moments, because they made you… you. You have molded those moments into art, because you are a walking miracle. You are a monument to survival. You are so bright in the world that you are blinding."

Stiles rested his head against Derek's chest as he sobbed openly.

They stayed like that for a long while until a knock on the doorframe had them both looking over to Talia.

"How are you feeling, Honey?"

Stiles was surprised to see she was talking to him, "I'm alright."

She looked like she didn't believe him, but didn't press.

"It's time."

As Stiles and Derek made it out onto the porch the pack seemed to be sparking with energy. The sun just barely below the tree line.

Stiles snorted when he caught a glimpse of Laura and Jordan in the corner of the porch glued to one another. You could barely tell whose limbs were whose.

Though, as Stiles looked over to see Derek sliding his shirt over his head to fold it neatly on a chair, he really couldn't blame him.

As his rising attraction spread, Derek paused to send him a sly smirk and wink.

"With night fast approaching," Talia's voice rang out of the din and Stiles was slightly impressed, "will the participants please join me on the field."

Jordan had to carry a clinging Laura down the steps, but Derek simply held out his hand. Stiles took it without hesitation as he fixed his book bag tighter with his other hand.

Derek started stretching, much to Peter's amusement, but Stiles chuckled and joined in the small warm up.

Talia started the countdown and the pack's roars became almost deafening.

Laura was sat down on the ground and she smirked looking up into Jordan's face, "I'll be right behind you, Love."

Stiles smirked as Derek shook out his arms, flexing a little more than necessary.

Stiles smirked, "Very pretty," he praised and Derek smiled wildly, "but," Derek's smile turned predatory as he recognized the challenge in Stiles' eyes, "I will not make this easy."

Derek surprised Stiles but roughly pulled him closer by his belt loops, "I would not accept anything less, my little fox."

Stiles hummed as Derek gently kissed him.

"Runners! Go!"

Stiles chuckled as he skipped away, not turning away from heavy lidded Derek, but then he turned and caught up with Jordan.

"Hey man." Jordan panted.

"How about I go on this side of the forest and you on that side?" Stiles suggested. He really didn't want to have anyone overhearing anything.

Jordan looked relieved and held out a hand to first bump him before taking a sharp left.

Stiles took a sharp right, but right before he disappeared into the trees he stopped.

He could barely see the pack anymore, but he knew they would be able to see him perfectly, so with a mischievous smile he created five duplicates of himself and they all started running all at the same time. All in different directions.

Derek smirked as he started stretching some more.

"Of course he flirts with you by showing you how hard it's going to be to find him."

Derek chuckled as his sister rolled her eyes, "Oh, you don't know the half of it."

Peter and Laura both raised their eyebrows.

Derek chuckled, "Once I find him Void has made it clear that I will have to fight him and win if I want to place my mark on Stiles."

Laura looked shocked and a little scared, but Peter looked like Christmas had come early.

Derek smirked as he glanced over to Laura's concerned face, "Don't worry, Void likes fucking me too much to actually kill me."

Peter's burst of loud laughter made Laura's disgusted face that much more perfect.

A while later Talia's voice rang out again, "Hunters! Ready yourself! Go!"

Derek shot off like a bullet and as he hit the tree line he let out a long howl. A few seconds later a human howl echoed back to him distorted slightly by magic.

His fangs lengthened as he sniffed the air, "I'm coming, Baby."

Chapter Text

Stiles ran like his life depended on it. Jumping over logs, wading through the river and bouncing off trees.

A wicked smile overtook his face when Derek's wolf called to him. He weaved his spark into his answering howl, no help for locating him, but showing his mate he was still here.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye half an hour later and his head turned in disbelief, there was no way Derek tracked him down that quickly. He let out a frustrated growl as another version of him waved as it continued to run alongside him.

"What the fuck are you doing? Go away!"

The mirror of him snickered, but turned sharply away, only to suddenly backtrack and cross over Stiles trail a few yards back.

Stiles laughed loudly at his magic's intelligence and continued forward.

As the forest became darker he had to use his spark to enhance his vision. His years of night runs and missions making the weird vision almost like putting in tinted glasses.

His legs were feeling the strain after a while and if he had been a little less concerned about that he might have heard the crunch of leaves sooner.

As Derek launched himself through the air Stiles was too slow to move out of the way, but went with the momentum to kick Derek off of him. By the time his foot made contact Void was pushing Stiles behind him. Ready to fight.

When Derek slid to a stop, his claws gauging into the dirt, he lifted his face in beta shift and roared.

Void huffed, "Now that was sexy as hell."

Derek didn't say anything, he wasn't going to rise to the bait. This was about Stiles. He needed to focus.

Those inky eyes narrowed and black veins were spreading across not only Void's face, but spread along his neck.

"Took you long enough, Little Wolf."

Derek growled and bared his teeth.

Void ignored him to casually lay his bag off to the side. Derek tried to rush him and Void only had time to sigh in disappointment before he turned to slam his hand into the Wolf's throat.

Void sat on the rock beside his bag as Derek fell to his knees, eyes watering, gasping for air.

Void started humming to himself, partially to take up time, but for the most part to cover the sound of his Stiles' mate wheezing. He could tell Stiles was worried, but happily found his human wasn't trying to interfere.

Derek stood back up finally and Void bounced up, "Are you ready to actually give it a try?"

Derek nodded, his face still wet, but his breathing was back under control.

Void's smile grew as he began to circle Derek and was pleased when Derek caught onto him trying to corner him against a grouping of trees. Void felt his pride grow when Derek didn't lose stride, but instead changed his path to smoothly gain control of where they were headed.

Void jabbed out with his arm to slam his fist into Derek's beautiful face, dancing out of reach even before those green eyes found him again.

Derek hadn't made a sound and besides the force pushing his head to the side, his body hadn't moved a muscle. Void couldn't seem to look away from those lips turning up into a challenging smirk.

Void couldn't stop the groan slowly escaping his throat. Derek's eyebrows shot up as Void's arousal filtered through the air. Void didn't break eye contact, even as he could hear Derek's heart rate pick up, relishing that Derek could still be affected by the simple smell of him.

Derek darted forward, so fast Void almost didn't see it coming. Almost.

Void laughed happily as he rolled out of the way only to twirl away as Derek pushed off a tree to push himself at him again.

Derek managed to grab a handful of Void's shirt, but the demon quickly twisted the cloth around Derek's hand. Gaining a hold of the wolf before twisting so Derek's hold loosened. With a quick punch to the face and another sharp yank Derek's arm twisted away from Void's body.

Derek swiped wildly at him.

Void dodged him artfully again.

Derek growled, "Let's get this over with, Void. I'm not here to dance around with you."

Void bared his teeth as he rose to his full height, "Okay Wolf, then let's stop playing."

They collided with a sickening crunch, snarling and clawing at the other. When they broke away both were left bloody.

Derek managed, with some fancy footwork, to trick Void enough to open the creature up for a strong punch to the jaw. Void's head snapped back to Derek with a growl and when Derek surged forward again Void did some fancy footwork of his own. With a small step to the right and a twist of his torso Void grabbed Derek's wrist after the wolf's arm was extended fully and with his magical fangs bit down onto Derek's bicep.

Derek yelled out in pain, but it quickly turned to screaming as Void ripped his head back, taking a chunk of Derek's arm with him.

Derek stumbled back clutching his arm as blood poured from the wound. He tried to use his other arm to swing out, but Void kicked it out of the way.

Derek fell to a knee, staring up at Void in pain as the demon spat the chunk of meat at Derek's feet. Derek's blood dripped from Void's mouth, until he slowly licked the hot liquid up.

Derek's arm was already healing and so he pushed up to try and swing at Void, but Void caught him at the elbow, bringing the movement to a full stop.

Void didn't have time to process the smirk on Derek's face until the man used his own blood to quickly loosen Void's hold and yanking his arm down, yanked Void to the ground with it.

Void hit the ground so hard his breath was stolen from his lungs and stars appeared behind his eyes.

Void heard the crunch of leaves as Derek got into position and quickly rolled away, ignoring the slight vibration he felt as Derek's fist made contact with the ground where his stomach has been a second before.

With a quick kick Void knocked Derek onto his back and he found too much pleasure in the wheeze the wolf made when he hit the ground.

Both men laid among the fallen leaves trying to catch their breath. Each taking the breather and then shakily getting to each other's feet, watching the other warily.

With a single tense of his muscles both men ran at each other again. Void grinned wickedly as he managed to overpower Derek. Ready to see that long neck stretched out as he surrendered.

Suddenly Void seized up as electricity ran through his body. He couldn't even yell out or fight as Derek quickly flipped so he was over him.

Void felt herbs being shoved into his mouth and Derek's large hand over his mouth to prevent him spitting it out.

Finally the shocks stopped and Void tried to breathe even as tears fell down his temples into his hair. This wasn't the first time being electrocuted, but it was the first time done by their mate. Void worried about Stiles, but found Stiles only worried about him. Void didn't deserve his human.

Derek held up the small taser, "You aren't the only one that stole from those bastards that held me in that bunker. What was it our human said? A weapon left behind by my enemy is automatically mine."

Void tried to struggle, but was promptly shocked again.

Over his heavy breathing as the electricity was taken away again Stiles heard Derek tsking, "Now, now. We're going to behave right now. I think you thought I was going to play nice tonight, but I just shoved a magic draining herb into your mouth and you are going to swallow it, like a good boy."

Void kicked out, but ended up being left shuddering against Derek as the taser left his skin.

He couldn't see Derek through the tears, but he swallowed the herbs. Derek's hand moved to his neck to feel it go down and still hold him to the ground.

Derek dabbed Void's eyes tenderly with his other hand, "There you go, my Love."

Void felt his power start to diminish and the spark squeaked out as it was put to sleep. Void sent a hurt look up to the werewolf.

"I am not going to apologize, Void. I love Stiles so I love you, but you stood in the way of me getting to my mate. I. Will. Always. Find. My. Mate."

Void stared into Derek's hard eyes with just a little more respect.

Derek leaned forward slightly, "Stiles is the most important thing in my life, if I have to kill my entire pack to get to him I would. You might be part of him now, but try and keep him from me again and I will find a way to rip you out and squash you beneath my boot."

Void's heartbeat sped up and everything about Derek right now is the epitome of Void's wet dreams.

Void starred up into Derek's face with the last ounce of defiance he could muster. Then he quickly lunged up to lick blood off Derek's cheek before falling back to the ground, letting his head fall to the side, barring his neck in submission.

Derek was on his neck in flash, kissing and softly biting his Mate's flesh.

"Don't have a lot of control." Derek bit out as he pulled back to see it was his Stiles looking up at him.

Stiles nodded and urgently motioned for his bag. Derek got up to toss it to him and the Spark quickly shoved more herbs into his mouth and washed it down with a pain potion.

Derek tried to quickly help remove Stiles' top but he mainly just ended up shredding it. Stiles slapped his hands away which earned him a growl.

Stiles looked up and realized Derek wasn't driving at the moment, but his wolf.

"Hey," Stiles spoke softly, "I'm just saying I'm going to take my own clothes off. I'm not telling you to go away."

The growling stopped, but the wolf watched his every move.

As Stiles was wiggling out of his pants Derek started to roughly flip him over. Stiles would've grumbled if Derek hadn't immediately kissed the back of his neck. Those fangs nibbling along his skin.

A howl ripped through the night far away. Both Derek and Stiles looking in the direction, fear sliding down Stiles' spine.

"Is everyone ok?" Stiles went to stand up, but was shoved roughly down to the ground.

"Laura has claimed her mate. It's our turn now."

Stiles felt his herbs doing their magic as he felt his muscles relax, which was good because Stiles cried out as two fingers were unceremoniously into his ass.

His forehead thumped onto the ground as He surrendered to the feeling of those two digits working him open. With a large clawed hand placed possessively on his upper back Stiles couldn't help wiggling against the movement, which earned him a pleased growl.

"Please." Stiles breathed as he became desperate to be filled, "I need more."

Stiles felt light headed from the shock as the fingers left him immediately. If he wasn't so far gone he would've been slightly embarrassed by the squelish they made, but he was immediately focused on the sounds of Derek shoving his own pants down.

"Lube." Stiles croaked, pointing weakly to his bag. He tried not to wince as he heard a rip sound as Derek grabbed it quickly.

Stiles moaned as he looked back over his shoulder to watch Derek working an obscene amount of lube onto his dick.

Stiles licked his lips and moaned loudly as two lubed up fingers once again sunk into him. Stiles watched as Derek worked both of them with the lube. The sounds alone were enough to make his dick twitch.

Derek's fangs lengthened as just fucking Stiles with his fingers was almost enough to make him feral and Derek's eyes watching his fingers disappear into Stiles in awe was doing wonders to Stiles' ego.

Stiles felt Derek roughly grab one of his ass cheeks to push it out of the way and then Stiles was gasping for breath as Derek slowly started to push into him.

It wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable at first as his body wasn't used to it yet.

His eyes clenched shut to fall completely into the feeling of Derek sliding into him. The pressure building as his body tried to accommodate the wolf's size.

God. It felt amazing.

The complete weight of Derek on top of him as he came to stop all the way inside of him almost felt protective. Their mingling gasps in the night air, the only sound Stiles could focus on.

"You okay?"

Stiles nodded jerkily, "So full. So good."

Derek adjusted his legs slightly and Stiles moaned at the stimulation. His breath left him entirely as Derek began to pull back out. The slide of him shooting off every single one of Stiles' nerve endings.

Derek moaned as he slid back in and then quickly pumped a few times.

Stiles lifted his hips to meet him, but the next thrust was with enough force to shove him back down to the soft earth beneath him.

Stiles couldn't help his hands reaching above his head, digging into the dirt to try and give him some anchor.

Stiles felt Derek's hand slide over his to thread their fingers together. Stiles held on for dear life as Derek started to fuck him. Derek's growls and moans driving Stiles closer to his own release.

"So perfect." Derek praised, "Taking my dick in your pretty little asshole. I am going to cum inside you. Mark you as mine. I love you. I will protect you. I will provide for you. I will kill for you."

Derek seemed to not be able to stop talking and each new phrase went straight to Stiles' dick.

Stiles grew in volume as Derek's hips slapped against his ass. Derek's dick going so deep and spreading him so deliciously.

Suddenly Derek hit a spot that had Stiles' head go floaty and his breath left him in a wheezed moan. Stiles yelled out and felt tears gather in his eyes as Derek hit it again.

Derek hit it with slower thrusts but more power and Stiles couldn't stop the sob ripped from his chest.

It was so good. It was too good.

Derek's rhythm stuttered and then Stiles' head was pulled roughly back by his hair, but he didn't have time to grunt before he was screaming as powerful jaws latched onto his shoulder.

Derek fucked him faster still attached at the shoulder and Stiles came, wildly scratching at the ground. An overwhelming pressure building in his chest and lights appearing in his vision.

Stiles could feel Derek's arousal and love coursing through the bond. He could feel how good his ass felt around Derek's dick. He could feel Derek's wolf settling around his heart. Stiles couldn't handle it. He was accepted. He was loved. He was safe. There was no questioning it, because he could feel it. Feel everything. Tears ran down his face.

Derek growled around Stiles shoulder, as the bond hit him and Stiles felt moisture fall from the wolf's face. Stiles whimpered as those teeth were pulled from his body, just for Derek to throw his head back to release a victorious howl.

Stiles couldn't seem to focus on anything, completely over-stimulated, but when he felt Derek pulling out of him he couldn't help his panic. He was too empty. Too alone. Derek quickly slid back into him and Stiles sighed.

It probably took too long for Stiles to realize Derek was talking to him or that his entire body was shivering.

Stiles met Derek's worried eyes, but found he couldn't speak, so instead softly led Derek's arms to hold him.

Stiles woke to a still dark Forest. Movement behind him had him slowly turning over to see Derek sitting down on a blanket reading. He was still shirtless, but had put his jogging pants back on.

Stiles went to push himself up and realized that he was on the blanket. He also realized he had a pair of basketball shorts on. Derek must have dressed him while he slept.

"You passed out pretty hard, didn't stir once when I moved you."

Stiles looked over at the relaxed looking wolf and that's when Stiles felt it. That overwhelming safety and connection. He hoped it wouldn't go away.

"How long was I out?"

"Only an hour."

Stiles went to nod but hissed in pain at the tug of the open bite.

Derek immediately reached for him and Stiles climbed into his lap.

"I'm so proud of you."

Stiles relaxed into those strong arms with the blanket of praise from those beautiful lips.

Derek ran his lips along Stiles' temple, releasing a contented sigh, "Feeling your love through the bond is bliss I couldn't ever imagine."

Stiles snuggled deeper, he was so exhausted.

"Why don't we make our way back? Then we can go to my room and sleep? I'll give you a bath?"

Stiles was silent, weighing his exhaustion and how good that sounded.

"I took the next two days off so I can focus on just you. We can do whatever you want to do."

Stiles felt another wave of love for the man and smiled when it made Derek hold him a little tighter.

"Okay, let's go back to the den."

Stiles stood unsteadily, but Derek helped him and then softly chastised him when he tried to grab the blanket off the ground. Instead Stiles blinked heavily as the Greek god that is his mate quickly and neatly gathered the blanket and put it away in Stiles' bag.

Watching Derek move without any hesitancy started Stiles' anxiety flaring up?

"Why aren't you reacting like me?"

Derek immediately turned with a smirk on his face, but as he saw Stiles unsure face and felt his anxiety, he immediately became serious.

"You went on a four hour run, sustained multiple duplicates of you for relatively the same amount of time, went full void, fought my wolf, had your spark put to sleep, had sex, and went through a wolf claiming. You may be the strongest person I know, but you are still human. I have werewolf healing, you don't and I only had to power myself not multiple versions of myself."

Stiles felt himself relax and Derek kissed his head, "You'll feel better after I clean you up and we get you some real sleep. Then it's just you and me for the next two days."

Derek easily threw Stiles' backpack over his shoulder as Stiles put on his socks and shoes.

Stiles' eyes kept going to his own blood smeared down Derek's torso from when Derek bit him. The Wolf hadn't once tried to clean it off of him. Instead he kept touching the large red stain with a soft smile and large eyes. Stiles pretended not to see and focused on his shoelaces.

They didn't need to speak as they walked back to the Den, hand in hand. Stiles made a comment about wanting to check on Issac before going to sleep and Derek nodded eagerly.

Suddenly Derek stopped him, "I know you are tired, but a few more steps and the pack will be able to hear us coming. I just want one more second with you. I love you, my little fox."

Stiles smiled and gently brought his lips to Derek's, "I love you too."

As they broke the tree line, the large Hale mansion in front of them, Derek brought Stiles' hand up to kiss the inside of his palm.

Stiles started to feel itchy from his own dried blood on his bare torso, but following Derek's lead he left it for all to see.

As they came into the last 100 yards a group of rowdy teenagers ran to greet them, all in their pajamas. Stiles caught Issac as he jumped into his arms.

"It's official!" Issac yelled happily as he let go to almost literally bounce up and down in front of him, only to be pulled into a hug by Derek.

The kids all started scent marking Stiles, even as he started moving forward again. He noticed none of them touched the still open wounds of his bite, for which he was grateful.

Laura launched forward to hug her brother and Stiles was glad Jordan looked a little worse for wear, sleeping on one of the lounge chairs. His own claiming bite still dripping blood down his bare chest.

His father suddenly pulled him into a hug, being so careful with him that Stiles felt his chest clench with feeling. He gripped onto the man's shirt and almost had his knees give out when he felt his dad kiss his head.

"I'm so proud of you, son."

Stiles felt the moisture from his dad's tears, but he didn't mention it as he mumbled into the man's shirt, "I love you."

He felt his dad tense and then Stiles' felt his dad grip him tighter in response, "I love you too, Stiles."

His dad pulled back so his mother could gingerly cup his face and Stiles felt his body relax as his mother sent her own magic to his, calming him with just her presence. Her eyes shine, but she didn't get a chance to say anything, because Talia and Peter were approaching then.

"Welcome to the pack." Talia said smiling, but Stiles tensed when he saw it didn't reach her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Everyone went quiet, looking between Talia and Stiles.

It was Peter who spoke, "Kate bought a ticket back to California, along with her father and brother. Not just them, but about 32 other well known hunters are headed to California and that's just the ones we know about."

Stiles was quiet, but he honestly had been waiting for this.

"But," Talia was quick to try and reassure him, "we have already contacted our independents and all our ally packs. They will all be arriving four days from now. We just wanted you to know as soon as you got back, we just learned it ourselves an hour ago."

Stiles nodded, "Thank you, I will gladly help with any and all preparations after my mate and I shower, sleep, and give our bond time to settle. I trust you guys to handle it til then."

He didn't see the shocked faces as he was already leading Derek through the door and headed for the stairs. What he did notice was the love and pride Derek felt at his words and that's all Stiles focused on. He wasn't alone. He would never have to be alone again. They would handle this… together.

Chapter Text

Stiles walked into the classroom and immediately silence fell over the room. It was probably a good thing as his nerves weren't handling noise really well today, but pride still swelled over his anxiety for his pups. They were taking the threat seriously.

He walked up to the whiteboard at the front and, without turning, called out, "First steps?"

Noise was suddenly everywhere. He shook his head, "Quiet!," Silence once again took hold, "One at a time, children."

"We need more information. Their movements. Anything they've bought."

Stiles nodded as he wrote that down, "Very good. That will undoubtedly be helpful, but remember there are ways to trick airports and computers in general. Then if we send people they might get squirrely and make the job a lot harder. So information gathering is a battle strategy all on its own. That's why we have Derek and Peter doing those jobs. They are intelligent and often think strategically naturally. Next."

"Weapon inventory and buffering."

Stiles added it to the board, "When should this be done? Before battle strategy or after?"

"Before." Was chorused through the room.

"Good. Next."

"Battle strategy."

"For how many locations?"

No one answered him. He turned around and tried to ignore all the unknown faces amongst his pups. It made Void uneasy to have so many strangers around his pack.

The last of the allies had arrived yesterday with every single fighter they had. Some were too young for Stiles' liking, but that's why he opened his classes to them.

No more dead kids. No more dead kids.

As Stiles' eyes swept over to Laura in the front row his eyes caught on her own mating mark.

Jordan's bite left there from of his own venom… or something, honestly Stiles had stopped listening when Laura was telling him. He had instead looked to Derek across the room… and his mark free neck. For the first time in his life Stiles wished he was a creature so everyone would know. Know Derek was his.

That night in the privacy of their bedroom Stiles had taken his time with Derek. Touching every inch of his body. Fucking him with slow thrusts, feeling Derek's muscles jump underneath him. Marking Derek with his touch, with his scent.

It was enough until the third pack had shown up. Derek was talking to a newly arrived pack member in the front yard when the last car in their caravan had pulled up.

Stiles and Laura had been leaning against the porch railing, quietly planning how to sneak Laura and Jordan away so they could be alone, when a shout of Derek's name had their heads turning.

A lean blonde man was jogging across the yard with a large smile stretched across his features.

Stiles stood slowly with eyes fixed, like a predator, and Laura cursed under her breath as she subtly gripped his belt loop.

Derek's warm laugh at seeing the man wasn't helping the situation as Stiles suddenly had to remind himself he shouldn't be worried.

His breathing picked up as the terrible memory of a SUV driving away from him played over in his head. It's not the same void soothed, even as he ate the pain and fear like a favorite dessert.

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay. It's the new bond. It wants to protect your mate." Laura's voice broke through his thoughts.

Stiles realized he was growling lowly and gripping the porch rail so tightly there were nail marks in the wood.

He breathed deeply and slowly released the creaking wood, happy that this made Laura relax slightly.

She opened her mouth to speak, but instead her mouth fell open in shock. Stiles looked over just in time to see the man turn his face into Derek's neck where they were hugging and scent mark him… on his bite free neck.

"Jesus Christ." Laura growled, even as Derek gently pushed the man out of the hug.

Stiles took measured steps back into the house and turned to go upstairs. He could hear Laura silently following him. When they made it to the library he waited until the door clicked shut before taking a deep breath.

"Who," Stiles spoke softly, "was the man scent marking my husband?"

"Your husband?"

Stiles growled loudly, turning to face her, "I am tied to him for life. He. Is. Mine."

Laura slowly smiled, "You know you're really hot when you're possessive."

Stiles didn't rise to the bait and instead looked desperately to his friend with a shaky exhale.

Laura's smirk fell away, "That's Justin. Honestly the closest Derek ever got to dating someone officially before you showed up. Basically every time the pack shows up they would-"

"I get the point." Stiles growled.

Laura grimaced, apologetic, "Bonds make people protective and- and you've been abandoned before. I know the idiot loves you and you know this too."

"I know." Stiles swallowed thickly.

Stiles blinked quickly as he jolted back to the present. Turning back to the whiteboard.

"What location should the battle strategy center around? How useful is a battle strategy if we don't know the environmental obstacles. If you are all trained enough, adaptation is possible, but not with these numbers. So, my question stands. What locations?"

"Any that we are known to inhabit at a high frequency."

Stiles' head whipped to the door with a large smile on his face as Derek leaned against the door frame.

"Exactly. We don't know when an attack will come so we need to assume that it will happen while we go about our normal lives. So, where do a lot of pack gather multiple times a week?"

"The Den."

Stiles nodded as he turned to write an arrow from battle strategy and started to write down the locations.

"The school."

"The police station."

"Deatons."

So it went on and on. They deep dived into the planning, Derek came to sit on Stiles' desk, which was more of a distraction than it should've been. Mainly because Derek seemed to need to touch him constantly.

He settled on taking Stiles' hand that wasn't writing and began to softly run his fingers over Stiles' wrist and up his forearm. It ended up making Stiles have to stand at a weird angle, but every swipe of those fingers against his skin had his heart beating a little faster. He didn't even try to hide it from the pups, but he did keep his main attention on them and their lesson.

"Okay, that's going to be it today. Can you please close the door on your way out."

Giggles and chuckles rang around the room as the wolves all filed out, watching the intense stare off happening, Stiles angry and Derek not the least bit perturbed.

As soon as the door shut Stiles sent his magic to lock it and opened his mouth to ask what the hell was Derek up to, but all that came out was a moan as Derek attacked his neck. Stiles gripped the man's shoulders as he struggled to remember what he was angry about.

"I could feel your anxiety clear across town." Derek grumbled.

Stiles suddenly had a flare of annoyance run through his body, "I have a very good reason to be anxious. Kate fucking Argent is somewhere close and could honestly try to kill us any given moment."

Derek pulled back as Stiles' voice got louder, only to start to run his nose along Stiles' cheek.

As Stiles panted slightly from yelling Derek brought both his hands up to bring the terrified man's lips to his softly.

"You aren't alone this time." Derek murmured against his lips, but Stiles just huffed and turned away, even if he did lean back into Derek's chest.

"Yes, I know. With your little boyfriend here victory is assured."

Stiles threw his head back groaning and his legs gave out as Derek suddenly bit down on his claiming bite, the only reason he stayed up was Derek's grip on his hips.

It wasn't enough to re-break the skin but the feeling sent amazing vibrations right down to the base of his cock.

"Whose mark is on your neck?" Derek's voice was deadly.

"Your's." Stiles breathed as he felt himself getting harder as Derek slid his hand into Stiles' pants.

"And who's dick is this?" Derek gently ran a single fingertip around the tip of Stiles' dick.

"Your's." Stiles whispered as Derek slowly started to stroke him.

Derek nibbled on Stiles' ear, "And who do you belong to?"

"You." Stiles' voice broke as his hips began thrusting into Derek's hand.

Derek used his free hand to turn Stiles' face to look back at him, "And who do I belong to?"

"You're mine." Stiles growled, even as he gently turned to allow Derek enough time to take his hands out of his pants before Stiles forcefully brought their lips together.

It was possessive. It was hungry. It was met eagerly.

Stiles ripped away suddenly only to drop to sit in his chair. He ripped Derek's pants all the way down his legs and off with his shoes and took a moment to enjoy the look of Derek Hale: kiss bruised lips parted as he breathed heavily, naked from the waist down, and looking at Stiles like he held all the answers. Stiles leaned back in his chair, "Undo your shirt for me."

Derek quickly started to struggle with the buttons, Stiles didn't offer to help. Instead he began kissing Derek's thighs, but when Derek went to try and sit on Stiles' lap, as he threw his shirt off to the side, Stiles held him in place on top of the desk with a firm hand on his leg and an intense stare.

Stiles leaned forward to easily slide his lips over Derek and hummed happily as he felt the dick harden even more inside his mouth. Derek tried to lay back on the desk but Stiles held him in a sitting position for the moment with a hand on his back.

Derek's breaths were coming out as jagged gasps as Stiles' head bobbed up and down. Both of Derek's hands came to hug Stiles' head, one hand gripping his hair, but not trying to control him.

Only when Derek's legs started to tense did Stiles softly push him to lay back onto the desk, quickly pulling Derek's ass right up to the edge.

He threw Derek's legs over his shoulders and lowered his head even more to change the angle Derek was hitting his throat. Derek moaned loudly.

Stiles suddenly pulled off with an audible pop. Derek's disappointed whimper turning into a gasp as Stiles suddenly pushed Derek's legs up into the air in order to attack Derek's ass. Twirling his tongue to relax the muscle, fingers added soon after.

When Stiles looked up at his Mate, he almost came in his pants as Derek looked so beautiful and so gone. His head rolled this way and that as Stiles' tongue entered him between his fingers. Derek's eyes closed tight as the pleasure built in him, his hands gripping the edge of the desk desperately above his head.

Stiles felt Derek's legs start to shake against his neck. Taking his tongue away, Stiles began to move his fingers slightly deeper and a little more angled. Stiles knew he found what he needed when Derek's whole body jumped slightly. Stiles slowed and began to massage the spot between short thrusts of his fingers. Derek was struggling to breathe and he was no longer making any sense as he begged Stiles for release.

Derek's back arched up off the table as Stiles suddenly brought his mouth the Derek's balls to suck in time with his thrusts.

Derek came hard, gasping out Stiles' name like a lifeline. Stiles kissed his way up Derek's body, making the man shudder as he licked up Derek's dick. Stiles could tell that even out of breath Derek was watching him, so with a quick mischievous glance up Stiles started to lick up Derek's cum painted across his chest. Derek's breathing sped up and he groaned loudly, but he didn't look away.

Derek seemed to not be able to move other than to meet Stiles' lips as Stiles made his way up to the man's mouth.

"You're still fully clothed."

Stiles smirked at the wolf's whining, but found he loved the man even more for it.

Stiles guided Derek's legs to wrap around his waist. Simply undoing his pants Stiles moved his boxers just enough to free his dick.

He slid into Derek with ease, pumping a few times before stilling to rest completely inside the perfect comforting heat.

"You okay?"

Derek nodded jerkily and seemed to melt as Stiles gently moved his hips back an inch, only to slide back in. Kissing Derek's mouth Stiles swallowed each of Derek's whimpers as Stiles kept to the small soft thrusts of his hips.

"Please." Derek whimpered against Stiles' mouth.

Stiles shushed him softly, "I got you baby, but this isn't going to be quick, my love."

Stiles moved to Derek's neck, "I want to feel you around my dick as long as I can."

Stiles started to roll his hips into long strokes, not letting Derek have a moment of rest, making him feel the constant slide of Stiles dick stimulating him.

Derek held on for dear life, raising his legs a little further up Stiles' body. Stiles groaned as he slid a little deeper, his forehead came to rest against Derek's.

Stiles found himself filling his senses with Derek, chasing away the fear and jealousy. The smell of forest and leather spiked with sex. The taste of salt from glistening sweat as Stiles kissed along Derek's throat. The sound of Derek's breathy moans and the creak of the desk underneath them. But god, the feel of Derek wrapped around him. Those muscled legs trying to pull him in even closer, a heel digging in Stiles ass cheek as Derek begged for more power. Those hands roughly grabbing at any piece of Stiles they could, holding him tightly. The feel of the impossibly warm heat wrapped so perfectly around his dick, the smooth slid along his shaft, his balls slapping Derek's flesh.

Stiles let it wash over him in waves, bringing him closer and closer to the edge, but Stiles slowed down even more. He didn't want it to end.

Derek thunked his head back on the desk, whimpering.

"Please. Please. Please."

"Do you know how good you feel?" Stiles' voice was little more than a rasp as took in Derek's swollen lips and glassy eyes. Stiles felt his own eyes darken more at the sight, He didn’t wait for an answer as he gripped Derek's face to force eye contact, "God, look at you. You look so fucking wrecked. My little desperate wolf crashing my class just hoping for my dick. Isn’t that right?"

"Please," Derek spoke with a new look in his eye, "I can make it so good for you. Please. Please let me do that for you."

Stiles stopped and pulled back, but Derek's legs gripped harder in panic.

"I'm pulling back so you can direct me." Stiles smoothed the fear away, gently stroking the man's face, even as a smirk played at the corners of his mouth.

He pulled back and this time Derek let him. Derek shakily got off the Desk and turned to bend over the top.

Stiles went to slide back in but Derek reached back with a hand to stop his movement. Stiles stilled instantly but couldn't stop the small thrust into Derek's hand when he began to guide Stiles into himself.

"Stay still." Derek's voice was hoarse, but the command was there.

Derek wiggled Stiles back into his ass and both men released a sharp gasp at being reconnected. Stiles took in Derek's flushed face and his glowing eyes, but then Derek started to move and every single thought left Stiles' brain.

Stiles watched transfixed as Derek rocked back onto him. Harder and faster than Stiles had done. Derek's head lolled to the side as he lost himself to his movements.

Stiles allowed his love to take what he needed for a while, but when Derek's legs gave out Stiles easily caught him.

"I'm sorry." Derek breathed, eyes fluttering heavily.

Stiles guided one of Derek's legs up onto the Desk as well, stretching him wider, "No, no, you have nothing to apologize for, my wolf."

Stiles slid back in hard and Derek moaned loudly, "So fucking pretty spread out like this for me."

Derek whimpered desperately, stiles let his hand trail across his back, "I know, I know. I've been so mean denying you what you want. You want me to fuck you, baby, right?"

Derek gripped harder on the desk, nodding vigorously, mouth agape, eyes gone.

Stiles pushed down on his lower back as he thrust violently into the man and Derek screamed out.

"So perfect." Stiles gasped as his hips picked up speed. He had been so close for so long that he knew it wasn't going to be long, but if he played his cards right Derek would be right there with him.

Reached forward Stiles gripped onto Derek's neck, squeezing just hard enough to turn Derek's moans into rough grunts.

Then Derek was cumming, grunting loudly, his body shaking from the force of it. The trimmers sent Stiles over the edge and he roughly fucked through it.

Stiles slowly let go of Derek's neck as they came to a stop, both out of breath. Stiles slowly pulled his dick out, causing Derek to hiss loudly.

Stiles gently helped lower Derek off the Desk and into his chair.

Derek watched him through half lidded eyes as Stiles gathered a cloth and wet it with warm water.

Stiles cleaned Derek up and then the desk itself. Praising Derek the entire time. As he went to move away Derek sluggishly caught his hand.

"You know I have eyes for no one else, right?"

Stiles gave him a soft smile as he nodded.

Derek frowned slightly, confused, "But something is still bothering you about Justin."

It wasn't a question.

Stiles' smile fell and he crouched down to Derek's level and gently brushed aside some hair from his forehead, "Yes."

"Is it me? What can I do to make you feel more confident? I have stayed away from him since the first day and I have blocked his number when he tried to text me to hang out. Tell me what more you need and I will gladly do it."

Stiles' heart swelled. There wasn't a single ounce of Malice in Derek's tone. Those eyes screaming to understand, to help.

"You have been perfect, baby. You are more than I deserve."

Derek didn't like this answer and tried to shake his head, but all that happened was a slight wiggle.

Stiles sighed heavily, "I keep seeing Laura's bite from Jordan and then I look at your neck and I feel… weak."

Derek couldn't help the incredulous look that flashed across his face, "Stiles, you are not weak."

Stiles nodded exasperatedly, "But I feel it. I almost feel incomplete. How many times do you run your hand across your mark on me? I catch you staring at it. Now picture if it was the other way around. If I had nothing on my neck and an old flame came into the picture just days after the mating."

Understanding dawned on Derek's face and Stiles relaxed, knowing he was successful in conveying his point.

"So," Stiles stood to continue cleaning everything up, "you can see where that could put me a little on edge."

Derek was quiet as Stiles re-zipped his pants and then slowly started to help Derek into his clothes.

"I'm going to run home and shower," Stiles smirked up the still boneless man as he tied Derek's shoes, "got a little sweaty for some reason. Don't want to go to the party tonight smelling like walking sex."

This was the first bait offerings. Not just the Hales but a multitude of targets in one spot. A party celebrating their pack's relationships and to their growing future.

They were testing the hunters. How smart were they? How desperate?

Derek smirked and grabbed Stiles' hand gently when Stiles stood back up.

"What?" Stiles smiled softly, as Derek's smirk turned into an affectionate gaze.

Derek's smile grew, "You make quite the beautiful picture. Clothes crumpled, just fucked hair, flushed cheeks, a cocky smirk on your face. No question about what just happened."

Stiles leaned down to kiss Derek lazily, "I'm not ashamed and I will never tire of leaving you blissed out and smelling of my cum."

Derek groaned, "You can't say things like that when I have no energy to do anything about it.

Stiles chuckled as he stood to start walking to the door, "You coming home with me?"

Derek grimaced apologetically, "I have to meet with my uncle before I can join you."

Stiles smiled to show he was okay, "I'll see you at home then."

When Stiles opened the door a very angry Peter was standing outside in the hall.

Stiles chuckled darkly, "He's all yours."

Peter huffed as he strolled past him.

"Jesus Christ!" Peter shouted, "You reek. Oh my god can you even stand right now? If I have to call Deaton to come look at you because you got dicked down too hard I will never let you live it down. I swear if I wasn't jealous I would actually be mad about you just running out of our meeting like that. Just because y-"

Stiles chuckled as he reached the top of the stairs and he could no longer hear Peter's lament. Though the faces watching him told him that all the wolves currently gathered in the main area definitely could still hear it.

Jordan reached out to fist bump him as he made his way to the door, laughing loudly when Cora playfully hit him.

He was drying off when he felt his wards flare to life. He didn't bother to cover himself as he came out to the living room, only to see Derek hastily shoving a small bag into a drawer.

Both men stood staring at the other in silence, "Should I be worried about that?" Stiles gestured with his head toward the drawer.

Derek raised his eyebrows and seemed to be pulled back from staring at Stiles' naked form, "No, baby, merely a surprise for later."

Stiles relaxed as he nodded, watching as Derek slowly made his way to him. Stiles instantly let his head fall to the side, giving Derek access to his neck.

Stiles loosely held onto Derek's shoulders, enjoying the attention as Derek's hands seemed to enjoy running along Stiles' clean and warm skin. His hands found Stiles' ass to start massaging.

"We unfortunately don't have time for this." Stiles breathed as his dick started to harden.

Derek growled, "We can be late."

Stiles pushed away softly and Derek looked irritated, "I already showered, you need to shower and get ready."

Derek's eyes flashed as Stiles turned to walk back into the bedroom, showing the wolf the marks he left on his ass from his attentions.

Stiles was suddenly pinned to one side of their bedroom doorway, "You are playing with me." Derek grumbled into Stiles' shoulder.

"You are my favorite plaything." Stiles whimpered as he ground his ass back into Derek's obvious erection.

Derek's hands came to rest on either side of Stiles' head, pushing his still covered dick into Stiles' flesh.

Derek groaned as Stiles suddenly ducked under Derek's arm and slinked towards his waiting clothes, laid out on the bed.

"Besides," Stiles threw over his shoulder as he began to dress, "I like it when I have you wound tight, ready for me to pluck you just the right way."

Derek's head thunked against the wood, breathing deeply, Stiles smirked as he turned back to the wolf.

Derek's eyes snapped to Stiles' fingers buttoning his shirt, Stiles took his time, "If you're a good boy I swear I will make it up to you to the point you won't be able to remember your name."

Derek grumbled, but stood to get in the shower.

Stiles smiled at Derek lovingly when the man appeared from their bedroom dressed and put together.

Stiles didn't hide his appreciation and Derek smiled shyly as he fidgeted with his tie.

"You look gorgeous." Stiles muttered as he quickly straightened the already straight tie as a flimsy excuse to touch his Mate.

"I'd like to show you something." Derek spoke softly as he reached behind Stiles to the drawer he had shoved something into earlier.

The small bag that Stiles saw was dropped into his hand and when he peeked inside he saw two potion bottles.

He sent Derek a questioning look as he pulled them out.

Derek cleared his throat, "Please don't be mad, but I shared your feelings about not being able to mark me with Peter, hoping he had an idea."

Stiles whipped his head up to look at Derek in shock.

Derek placed his hand over Stiles' holding the bottles, "He helped me find a way. One bottle is for you and one bottle is for me."

Stiles licked his lips and he inspected the bottles with more reverence, "You found a way for me to leave a mating mark on your neck."

Derek's eyebrows did that thing where they relaxed and softly flowed with Derek's eyes filled with love. Stiles blinked back tears.

"You did this for me." Stiles whispered in awe. It wasn't a question, but an insecure clarification.

Derek cupped Stiles' face, "I would do anything for you."

Stiles cleared his throat and turned to set the bottles safely on the counter.

"Wait here." Stiles whispered as he felt it would break their bubble if he spoke too loud.

Derek let him go to his greenhouse, following behind in curiosity not about to let a foot of space develope between then, no matter what Stiles said.

Stiles started talking to himself as he moved around the space. Adding various herbs and spices.

Pulling two chocolate capsules he keeps under stasis for such occasions when the herbs would be too much for a person to swallow on their own.

With a small carving tool he carved the needed runes into the outside of one capsule and smiled when it glowed, showing it worked.

"Here, take this." Stiles offered Derek the two small chocolates.

Derek looked from the sweets to Stiles, causing the spark to smirk, "This will help with what I have planned for you tonight."

Derek's eyebrows rose as a cocky smirk grew across his handsome face, "You have something planned for me?"

Stiles' look burned Derek's skin as he purposely stepped into Derek's space, "You claimed me and I got to see what the wolf could do. Now it's my turn. You will get to experience what I can do. As a man. As a Void Demon. As a Spark. And as I am destroying your world, as you're begging me for salvation, is when I will claim you."

Derek's nostrils flared, his eyes dark, as he took the offering and promptly ate them.

Stiles leaned in to kiss him softly, "Good boy."

Derek was buzzing with energy as they arrived and he seemed to not be able to keep his hands to himself.

"When are the herbs supposed to take effect?" Derek whispered against Stiles' temple from where he just placed a quick kiss.

Stiles leaned back to look up at the wolf, a mischievous glint in his eye, "When I activate them."

Derek's hand twitched in Stiles'.

They were sitting at their table. Everyone else was either dancing or talking at another table.

"I'm going to go thank Peter," Stiles spoke into the night air, as Derek and him had moved to the patio in front of the fire pit a while ago when people had started to leave, "I think it has cleared out enough to not be overhead. Could you get me another drink?"

Derek ran a hand down his back and nodded as they both stood up.

Stiles was on his way back to the patio when he heard Justin's voice coming from the kitchen.

"Is your mate so spoiled already that he can't get his own drink?"

Stiles stilled on the stairs, having found Peter in the library.

He heard Derek's loud scoff, "I don't think Stiles has ever been accused of being spoiled."

Justin hummed, "Give it time, no one could be your mate and not be spoiled. I remember how you are."

"Stop." Derek's voice was soft, but commanding.

"What?"

"You know that sentence is trying to bring up past events that are over and done with."

It sounded like a glass was sat forcefully down on the counter, "So that's it then?"

Derek sighed loudly.

"No, you don't get to block me out. We meant a lot to each other once and now I'm shoved to the side. Is he that insecure?"

Derek growled threateningly, "Be careful, that is my mate you are talking about and you know nothing about him."

"And who's fault is that?"

It was quiet for a second before Derek came into view as he walked into view, only to be stopped by a large hand on his arm, Stiles slipped back on the stairs as to not be seen.

"Look, I'm sorry. Can't we just go and chat? Just you and me. You can tell me about him and fill me in on how you met. Can fill me in on how your life has been these past few years."

Derek pointedly removed Justin's hand, "No, I'm not going anywhere alone with you."

Justin came into view then, face twisted in anger, "Because of Stiles?"

"Yes." Derek answered immediately.

"God, he really has a tight leash on you, huh?"

"Stiles didn't tell me to do or not do anything. This is from me. It doesn't matter if it's your or any of the other people I fucked at one point. I'm not giving Stiles a reason to even have a stray thought that something happened, because it won't. He deserves that peace of mind and it costs me nothing to give that to him. If you have a problem then that tells me I was right to keep you at arms length."

Justin looked a little guilty, but Stiles found he didn't have any sympathy for the man.

Derek turned to walk away, but quickly turned back, "And another thing, until you know his past or seen what he's capable of, shut the fuck up about him. Stiles is by far the best person I've ever met and my life has grown brighter and bigger for knowing him. I'm lucky he thinks I'm worthy of him. Don't make me have this conversation again."

Stiles waited stunned on the stairs as both men departed. Once he knew the coast was clear he slowly made his way back to their spot on the patio.

Before Derek saw him Stiles saw the irritated turn of his mouth, but as his eyes found Stiles Derek's smile was enough to take Stiles' breath away.

Stiles accepted his offered drink grateful to have something to occupy his hands. Once that was set aside, finished, Derek saved him once again by cuddling into him, gently kissing him.

Derek was snuggled against Stiles' chest, completely relaxed. There were still a few people milling about, but Stiles felt the night pass into the safety mark that no attack was coming tonight.

Stiles looked around the porch and outdoor area around them. Laura and Jordan were lazily making out in the far porch lounge chair, a good ways away from them. Cora and Issac were walking hand in hand on the far side of the yard. Three plastered members of other packs were having a loud and chaotic conversation on the other far side of the porch opposite from Laura.

Stiles ran his fingers through Derek's hair and whispered, "Try not to make a sound."

Derek turned with a confused look on his features, but Stiles didn't break eye contact as he whispered the needed latin.

Derek's eyes widened in understanding and shivered slightly as his skin came to life as the Latin finished.

"What the f-" Derek's sentence was cut short as what felt like a lubed finger breached his ass.

Derek's head hit Stiles' sternum as that pressure just stayed inside him, still.

"What is this?" Derek groaned as the pressure moved slowly out.

"My magic." Stiles answered as if that was the most normal thing in the world. Derek shook as he felt the pressure grow in girth slightly and fuck into him quickly three times.

Stiles ran a hand down Derek's back, 'Lay down and enjoy it, just let me know when you'd like to go home for more."

Derek scrambled to his feet, "I'd like to go home."

Stiles smirked as he stood, "Okay Baby, let's get to the car."

They waved to the others gathered, "Maybe I should drive." Stiles gently suggested as Derek stumbled as Stiles forced his magic a little deeper into the man.

"I'm good. It's not that far of a drive. Plus you will just take your sweet time to torture me."

Stiles bit his lip at being called out and climbed into the passenger side.

Derek's hand shook slightly as he put the car into gear and his hands gripped the steering wheel to the point it started to creak.

Stiles felt Derek's muscles twitch under his touch as he let his hand trail up Derek's tense arm toward his bicep. Derek's breathing turned ragged as Stiles leaned over to kiss along the man's throat. He slowed his magic down to soft deep thrusts.

The wheels squealed as Derek turned sharply into their drive, slamming on breaks as he pulled into the parking spot. Derek yanked the brake a little too forcefully and Stiles winced a little at the sound, but then Derek was dragging him into his lap.

Stiles held on as Derek opened the door, bringing him with him as he got out. Stiles bit down on Derek's shoulder as the man fumbled with the keys, causing Derek to curse loudly and almost drop the keys. Stiles hid his smile against Derek's throat.

Stiles untangled himself as Derek closed the door to lock it and walked over to the bottles from earlier in the day.

"Stiles." Derek begged as he instinctively bent over with his head against the back of the couch, hips moving as the phantom fingers slowly fucked him.

"Focus baby," Stiles commanded, " How long do these last?"

"5 hours." Derek panted.

Stiles nodded as he downed the bottle labeled 'Stiles' and helped Derek down his.

"Go to the bedroom and undress." Stiles commanded as he made his way to his greenhouse. He tried not to smile as he heard Derek struggling with his clothes. He grabbed a small potion meant to give his spark a little boost.

As he walked into the bedroom, Derek was now naked, legs spread, and whimpering at the soft pace his magic was keeping.

Stiles brought the chair over from the corner to sit at the end of the bed, watching the invisible force spreading Derek's ass.

"You being tied up still on the table?" Stiles asked, licking his lips.

Derek nodded frantically.

With a flick of his fingers, inky black ropes stretched Derek's arms out to either side and wrapped his legs out to the side and folded, black strands wrapped around his thighs and calves bringing them together.

Derek's eyes watched Stiles sharply as Stiles began to chant in Latin. Derek fidgeted as black tendrils grew from the ropes. A tendril wrapped around his throat squeezing just enough and tendrils wrapped around his dick, causing Derek to curse loudly. Both men watched as the blackness wrapped around Derek's full length and began to softly pulse around him.

Derek's eyes rolled back in his head and Stiles began to slowly undress. Derek's moans and the slippery sound of his magic working Derek's body going straight to his dick.

"Do you know how pretty you are strung up like this? How much your trust means to me?"

Stiles reached out to pull at the ropes, adding a brand new one to lift the wolf into the air.

Derek tensed and flailed a little, but Stiles reached out to hold his leg to still him, "Hey, Hey," Stiles ceased all magic besides the ropes,"Talk to me, are you okay?"

Derek looked like he didn't know what to think. Stiles went to lower him back on the bed, but Derek stopped him, "No, I want to try this, it just was too much at once, but I want this. Please." He added when he saw Stiles was still regarding him shrewdly.

"Why don't we build back up, okay?" Stiles spoke softly.

Derek nodded, "Build back up to the hentai side of our sex life that I didn't even know was on the table."

Stiles pulled Derek by the legs toward him to kiss him slowly, "Did you not like it?"

Derek chuckled, "It was different, but it felt amazing."

Stiles reached down with his free hand to briefly make sure Derek was good before sliding into Derek slowly.

Stiles pushed back on Derek's legs to push him off his dick, only to let go to let Derek swing back down on him. Both men moaned loudly.

"Okay," Derek panted, "I get it, please, please do that again."

Stiles huffed a laugh, but thrust roughly in as he held onto the ropes to keep control of the movement.

Derek moaned loudly as he felt that warm smooth blackness engulfing his dick into its tight heat. The rolling pulse stroking him just right. Derek arched into Stiles more as he began kissing the wolf's chest.

Stiles' own hand coming around his throat instead of his magic this time, helping move Derek on his dick. Stiles' eyes going pitch black and nails scraping along Derek's skin, even biting into his neck.

Derek wheezed passed Stiles' grip as his ass was fucked by that perfect dick. His own dick wrapped in a warm wet heat that had a light vibration going straight to his balls. Stiles' mouth on his skin. Sharp claws adding a sense of danger. The smell of blood in the air. The sound of skin slapping against skin and Stiles' grunts blocking everything else. It was painful. It was perfect. It was completely encompassing.

Stiles looked into Derek's flushed face, sweat glistening along his beautiful body. His moans turned into noises Stiles had never heard before. Derek's eyes were glassy as he stared off into nothingness.

Derek struggled against the rope, trying to find something to ground himself as Stiles fucked into him harder, using the ropes to swing Derek onto him, adding blinding power behind it.

"I got you. I got you." Stiles gasped as he cupped Derek's face.

"I love you so much. Taking me so well. You feel unbelievable. You are my home. My mate. And I'm going to claim you. Leave you bleeding from my teeth and cum dripping out of your ass."

"Stiles." Derek's voice slurred out a version of his name and Stiles forced Derek's face to look at him and released his throat, "Baby, I need to know you are okay?"

Stiles slowed his hips as tears fell down Derek's face, "Talk to me Little Wolf."

"Please." Derek's body shook.

"Do you want to keep going? I need to know what you want."

"I want to cum. Please let me cum. I can't.. it's too much… want you… I want you."

Stiles sighed in relief as he thrust back in, causing Derek to sob loudly. Stiles caused the blackness wrapped around Derek to suck harder and Stiles let void fuck how he wanted to.

Derek's entire body arched, his scream bouncing off the stone walls as he came. Stiles quickly moved his magic to wrap around Derek's balls and lower dick, stroking him through his orgasm, but allowing Derek's cum to hit his chest.

Stiles thrust into Derek a few more times before bringing his magical fangs to Derek's neck. Stiles felt his balls tighten. Stiles suddenly latched onto Derek's neck and then he was cumming. Yelling around Derek's skin.

Stiles slowly pulled his teeth out of his mate and stumbled back. Derek was beautiful. Cum leaking onto the floor, blood dripping onto his chest.

Stiles allowed himself just a few seconds to commit that to memory before he eased Derek back down to the bed. Stiles didn't say anything as he slowly removed the ropes from Derek's body instead of just vanishing them, worried that would shock Derek's body more.

Stiles ran his hands along the patterns left in Derek's skin and watched as his werewolf healing took over.

"You are so beautiful." Stiles praised, but fear gripped his heart when he looked up to his wolf. Derek hadn't moved once from where Stiles placed him. His eyes were blank and he didn't react to Stiles' touch.

"Derek?"

Nothing.

Stiles ran a hand through Derek's hair, "I'll be right back."

Derek merely blinked up at him.

Stiles grabbed his dress shirt to wipe Derek's semon from his body and then one of Derek's shirts from the closet, throwing it over his head.

As he opened the bedroom door he realized there were people in the living room and he, not for the first time, was grateful for the soundproofing runes and Derek's long torso and he was covered to hisid thigh.

Issac smirked at his attire, but didn't say anything. Cora's face heated up, but she just snuggled into Isaac's side more. His students all giggled and threw catcalls his way.

He flipped them all off as he made his way into the kitchen. Laura joined him shortly after, "You okay?" She whispered.

Stiles stopped in his slightly frantic movements to look at her.

"I don't think anyone else noticed, but your eyes seemed a little crazy when you came out."

Stiles shuffled uneasily and then subtlety threw up a bubble around them to make sure no one was listening.

"I claimed Derek."

Laura's smile was blinding, "Peter mentioned he and Derek found a way for you to mark him." Her face fell slightly, "I didn't know you felt the way you did, I'm so sorry, but what's the problem? Did it not take?"

Stiles grimaced, "Last I saw my mark was still there, but- but I think I pushed Derek too far."

Laura moved closer, concerned.

Stiles huffed as tears threatened to spill, "I let him experience all of me. Using void and my spark to… to…"

Laura held up a hand, "I get it… and?"

Stiles leaned against the counter, "And he couldn't answer me just now. Hell, I don't think anything is processing right now. I had to stop twice because it was too much for him, but he kept saying he wanted it, but now I'm worried he just knew I wanted to claim him so he went with it. He was so out of it that by the time I claimed him, he didn't even react. When I told him I would be right back he just laid there."

Laura blinked owlishly, "Okay, I know I said I got it, but after that I need to know what happened."

Stiles huffed as he irritably scrubbed his face.

"He told me he didn't mind being tied up, I checked with him beforehand and he said yes. So I kind of created a magical sex swing."

He stopped to check if Laura had any questions, causing her to huff, "I know what a sex swing is Stiles, continue."

"I should probably mention that I had been using my magic to fuck him without touching him for about ten minutes before this, nothing intense, but enough to open him up, you know?"

Laura nodded as she listened to him intently and Stiles felt overwhelming affection toward the woman as she put aside her sibling disgust to be there for him.

"Then I added some magic to basically suck his dick while I fucked him and then Void wanted to use some more violent power and then I couldn't control void and my magic when claws scratched at his skin, not enough to do too much damage, but he bled. He was so out of it at one point I stopped to see if he was still present and he kind of was, but he said he wanted more, but I think I fucked up."

Laura cupped his face lovingly, "Stiles, I think my brother got, as Peter would say, dicked down hard twice in one day. One of them a claiming bite. Not to mention it seems like you, Void, and your magic just gang banged him. But Stiles, you checked on him multiple times and he said he wanted it. You love him and he loves you, but Derek hasn't had someone like you before. Where feelings are added to these types of actions. He was the quick fuck here and there type and from what he shared before you came along, he never had someone focus on his pleasure before. He was always on top. He was always the one giving. Talk to him when he's ready. Figure out if there are any boundaries that need to not be crossed again. But I know my brother and I see how he has changed with you here. You are the best thing that's ever happened to him."

Stiles shuddered with an unstoppable sob as he fell into her chest, breathing deeply when he felt her hug him tightly, kissing the top of his head.

"Now, we are going to get some good food for him and some electrolytes to drink. Then you are going to take care of him like I know you came out here to do."

Stiles nodded, a lot more relaxed.

When he shut the bedroom door behind him he had a large platter of cut fruit, five large Gatorade bottles, and some pain medication.

Derek was still in the same position and didn't react to his presence. Stiles went to gather a cool washcloth and began to clean his Mate's body. Derek let him work his body however he needed and Stiles inspected the healed, but raised, claiming bite. Satisfied he helped Derek sit up, propped up on the pillows and the softest blanket thrown over his lower half, just in case someone came in.

Stiles turned back with the pain potion in his hand and stilled as he found Derek watching him now.

"Derek?"

Derek licked his lips, but didn't say anything.

Stiles tried not to grimace, "Please drink this."

Derek swallowed the contents at once and Stiles was glad to see the trust was still there.

"You hungry? Thirsty?"

Derek's eyes landed on the platter on the night stand and he licked his lips. Stiles quickly grabbed a bottle and unscrewed the lid, only to bring it to Derek's lips gently.

Derek drank deeply and seemed more lively. Stiles presented a grape to his lips and Derek ate it, humming at the juiciness.

Stiles began to relax as Derek seemed to be coming back into the world of the living.

Stiles offered an orange slice this time and Derek ate it eagerly. Stiles made sure not to touch Derek's skin at all after Stiles cleaned him up. Stiles didn't know how much his touch was wanted at the moment.

Stiles kept feeding Derek, until all the grapes and oranges were gone. He cracked open another Gatorade and gently brought it to Derek's lips.

"I'll be right back." Stiles said softly as he thought of something.

He ignored everyone again as he made his way to his greenhouse to grab the muscle cream.

He briefly made eye contact with Laura as he closed the door once more.

Derek's head followed Stiles' path as he sat back down beside him on the edge of the bed.

"May I touch you?" Stiles whispered, not looking at Derek, which meant he missed the confused furrow of Derek's eyebrows.

"Of course." Derek's voice was raw, but soft.

Stiles breathed a little easier and began to gently work the cream into Derek's closest hand, traveling up his arm. Derek sighed happily.

Stiles worked the cream into Derek's arms and legs. Before moving to Derek's neck, he cracked open another drink and offered it to Derek, who took it gratefully.

Derek moaned deeply as Stiles massaged his neck.

"I don't deserve you." Derek breathed as Stiles wiped the cream off his hands.

"Stiles?"

Stiles looked up to see Derek's concerned face.

Stiles licked his lips, "Please tell me you're okay."

Derek reached out to guide Stiles to straddle him, "I am absolutely amazing."

Stiles searched his face, wanting to believe him, "God," Stiles breathed, "Derek you were so out of it. I was so worried."

Derek gently brought Stiles' lips to his own and didn't fight when Stiles heavily rested his forehead against his own.

"Stiles you need to understand, I have never experienced anything like that before. It was a level of pleasure and pain I have never once been subjected to. Because I love you and because I trust you I was actually able to give myself over to every sensation. It just took a second to find my way back and when I did it was to you cleaning me, feeding me, making sure I'm pain free and relaxed. I am marked as yours for all to see now, I couldn't be more happy and proud."

Stiles leaned back to look at him in relief, "I thought I fucked up."

Derek shook his head, "No, no, the exact opposite. I can't promise I would want that every time, but you best believe I will want to experience this again."

Stiles chuckled, even as he sniffled, "Maybe just one or two and not all three?"

Derek smirked, "I would be down to try any combination you want."

"The pups are all here." Stiles informed him.

Derek hummed, "I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you as I was a little distracted, but they wanted to stay the night to be ready for the second bait operation tomorrow."

"The school?"

Derek nodded and settled in deeper when Stiles laid out on his torso.

"Do you want me to let you know when we head out?"

Stiles nodded and sighed contentedly against Derek's skin.

He didn't know when he passed out, but Derek was fully dressed, shaking him softly.

"Hey Beautiful, " Derek ran a hand through Stiles' hair, "We are heading out."

Stiles slowly stood up to press a kiss to those smiling lips. When he pulled back he ran a hand under the collar of Derek's dress shirt to run over the mark and breathed a sigh of relief when it was still there.

Derek gasped at the touch and leaned into Stiles' hand, "I'm yours."

Derek's voice was like a prayer.

"Always." Stiles kissed him one more time before Derek turned to walk out, Stiles stopped at the bedroom door to take in his pups all gathered around.

Laura sent him a bright smile, one he was able to match this time. He waved them off with a soft smile, even as a heavy weight settled in his stomach.

Stiles dressed and prepped to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. His weapons sharpened and pockets prepped.

His phone dinged and he practically ran across the room.

Took the bait. Need help.

Stiles' blood ran cold as he ran to his car. Breaking several laws as he sped towards his family. He saw Derek's car with the door wide open and jumped to run to it, looking around. No one was here.

Stiles' hair stood on end. Something wasn't right. Blood spattered the ground, but no bodies were to be seen.

Suddenly movement caught his attention, men in full swat gear were approaching from every angle. Stiles growled lowly, they took his family and then lured him here and they were going to die for it.

Magic flared at his fingertips and he heard some of the men yelling. His magic ripped into bodies, until he felt pain flare in his side. Electricity ran through his body, but he still swung out and fought the hands on him.

He managed to roll away and pulled his pistol from its holster. He was able to shoot two hunters in the neck before having to duck out of the way, using Derek's Camaro as a shield.

He used everything in his arsenal. When his bullets ran out his threw his knife. With that spent he moved through the electrical current and managed to send his magic out to throw the hunters back. He dialed Jordan's number, as he hadn't been part of the bait. When the man answered Stiles yelled the situation and hoped he got there in time.

Bodies littered the ground, but he was so focused on working through the constant electrocution emanating from the bullet in his side that he didn't see the hunters flanking him.

His face was slammed against Derek's car hood before everything went black.

Chapter Text

Stiles came to, hanging from the ceiling. His arms ached and the pain from his wound smarted with each breath.

He blinked to look around his new surroundings. An empty unimpressive room made of metal and concrete. The room was little more than a glorified closet, but there was nothing stored around him. Looking at the floor Stiles saw the stains of dried blood and other substances that he didn't want to think about.

Grimacing Stiles realized this room had one purpose and one purpose only. The stench of fear and pain was inked into the walls.

He looked up at his hands to see them too white and wrapped in thick irons. He could see the magic seeping runes from here, but he tried anyway. Groaning as he was electrocuted not only by the chains, but by the bullet apparently still lodged somewhere in his body.

Gritting his teeth he slowly sent his magic into the metal, trying not to cry out from pain. Just needed to break them enough he could get free.

It felt like hours and his head was pounding, his body twitching. Part of him begged for rest, but he ignored it. He huffed a humorless laugh as he found he wasn't scared or desperate, he was pissed off.

Tears sprung to his eyes when he fell to the ground in a heap. He allowed himself a minute to breathe and settle, before looking around.

He had to get out.

The door was thick, reminding him of something you would find on a naval ship.

Fuck. Stiles looked around and he noticed the bolt heads. They were on a fucking ship. He paused waiting for the tail tale sway of the ocean, but much to his confusion they were stationary.

So not on the water. A shipyard?

Something flared to life, something Peter said to him once, the Argents own a shipping company.

He wasn't getting through the door, which meant he'd have to hide and wait for someone to come through first. Stiles' fists clenched painfully, he needed to find Derek. Needed to find his pups.

He turned back to the small room and actually laughed, he already knew it was empty, but some misguided part thought he might have missed something.

He looked back to the hanging chains. Play Opossum?

It seemed like the best option.

So, silently apologizing to his body he gripped the chains and wrapped them back around himself. He waited.

The door squeaked open and through barely open eye lids a figure decked out in gear peeked in. Opened the door fully when he saw no response from Stiles.

"He's still passed out." A gruff voice said.

"Still?" Another softer voice replied.

Footsteps approached him and Stiles kept perfectly still as a hand came up to check his pulse.

It was when the man turned to say something to the other that Stiles Struck. He dropped and snagged the man around his mouth to keep noise down and stole his knife in quick succession.

The second man fell to the ground with nothing more than a faint gurgle around the knife Stiles threw.

The first man struggled but Stiles held strong, "Where are the wolves being kept?"

The man struggled more and tried to bite at Stiles' hand, he got a punch in the face for his efforts.

Finally Stiles sighed and snapped the man's neck, he'd have to do this the hard way.

He quickly stole all the ammo and weapons he could find on each guard. Then swiftly looked out the door, nothing. Just an empty hallway and two options to go.

He chose left as he shut his door behind him and started making his way silently across the cold floor. The bulky doors did allow him a chance to hide once or twice as people passed in another hallway.

Stiles listened to the chatter and he found they had three rooms they were guarding.

Stiles needed to find them before someone found his empty cell.

He had almost decided to start shooting just to get some answers when he skidded to a stop outside another opening to a short hallway. Stiles ducked behind a large pipe. A guard with a gun was positioned outside a door. If it wasn't his family it was something to give him leverage.

He used his magic to create a phantom movement just at the edge of the man's vision.

The guard's head whipped to the side, eyebrows furrowed.

"John? Is that you?"

When no answer came Stiles watched as the man swallowed thickly before moving forward to investigate.

Stiles didn't waste time trying to talk to him, he was too exposed here and he needed to get through that door.

With too practiced movement this guard landed on the floor, his neck twisted unnaturally.

He grabbed the large handle and twisted. It was dark but he could smell the electricity and burned flesh.

Stiles dragged the corpse into the room and then cracked the door so as to not draw attention.

Dropped the heavy body he turned and his stomach dropped. Some of his pups were here; Scott, Lydia, Cora, Luara, Kira, and Jackson, but it was some of the other pack members as well, including an alpha and Justin.

Stiles flew to the generator and without the loud noise he could hear the whimpers and sobs.

He turned toward his children and swelled with pride as they were already straining against the chains holding them. Just like they had practiced in training for this exact situation.

"Those of you that can free yourself, please help the others."

Movement was suddenly everywhere. His pups ran to him, but at his hiss they all stepped back, now noticing his wound.

"How did you find us?" Scott whispered when no one seemed to be able to speak.

Stiles shook his head, "They lured me to the school. Caught me. I just managed to escape."

"Were my parents with you? Derek? Peter? Isaac?"

Stiles shook his head and hated himself that he couldn't answer her obvious question; were they alright?

"Listen," Stiles began hurriedly as he heard boots somewhere nearby, "I'm going to create a distraction. I believe they are being held on the other side of the ship. When they all start in on my location that will clear a good portion of them out of your way to get out."

Scott and Cora were already shaking their heads.

"You're hurt," Scott pointed out needlessly, but Cora nodded as she added, "You'll need backup."

Stiles shook his head, "No, I will move faster if I don't have to worry about hitting one of you. Yo-"

He cut off as the squeaking of the door alerted them.

Stiles pressed his finger to his lips and everyone nodded. He moved over to the door. It was too easy to grab the guard's wrist to disarm him. Stiles twisted the man painfully, but covered his scream.

"Where is the exit?" Stiles growled.

"Wouldn't you like to know you fucki-" the man's sentence ended with a sickening squelching as Stiles began to strangle the man.

The man struggled but Stiles didn't let up until the movement stopped.

He started to loot the body as he spoke again, not caring that the other pack members were staring at him in shock, "Is anyone more injured than the rest? They have some body armor you can take. Here."

He held out three knives to his pups, "Protect them and get out. You can leave a small party here- hidden outside the ship, to help brief everyone when backup arrives. Everyone else book it back to the den. Do not stop. Do not look back. Am I understood?"

He breathed easier when he received nods and a swell of pride grew in his chest that they immediately started helping some of the smaller children from the other pack into the bullet proof vests. Stiles turned fully to look at his children, taking them in, bringing a hand to Scott's hair and Cora's face, "I love you all so much."

He hugged Jackson and was shocked when the man hugged him back fiercely, "You are a leader, you can even be a good leader if you work hard at it. Help them handle this."

Jackson nodded. Kira didn't wait as she flung herself into his arms, he held her tightly, "You understand the wait to make the right decision. They will need that."

Cora has tears running down her face, her fists clenched, "Why does this seem like a goodbye?"

Stiles grimaced, "Because it might be. I don't matter, Cora. I will get them back and I will take down as many hunters as I can on the way."

Before she could say anything he moved to Scott, who was desperately trying to appear strong, "You. Are. My. Brother."

Scott rammed into him, his body shaking, but grip firm. He pulled away to look at Lydia.

Lydia cupped his face and he couldn't help but lean into the touch, "You do matter. I have a message from the other me." Lydia sniffled and then smacked him across the face, Stiles let her, turning to look at that painfully familiar commanding stance, "You will get our family out and you will be alive when this is over, do you understand me?"

Stiles smirked, "Yes ma'am."

Stiles moved back to the door with a wink to listen, silence.

"Wait until you hear the running and shouting moving away before making your move." Stiles spoke over his shoulder and then he was slipping through the opening with a lethal grace, his shoulders set.

He stayed hidden until he was far enough away. Silently moving through the halls once again, backtracking to where he hoped to find the rest of his family.

He stopped when he heard the clink of cutlery and low calm conversation. Mess Hall? Seems as good a place as any to start. He breathed deeply a few times before with a casual swagger turned the corner into a room full of hunters.

It was silent as the men seemed to not comprehend. One hunter even had a spoon at his lips, but at Stiles' entrance had frozen, causing his corn to sloppy fall back onto his tray. The man didn't react.

"Evening." Stiles greeted and then chaos broke loose.

At the end he was standing in one of the only body free spots in the place. His body twitching and his spark weakly trying to rear its head back up.

Stiles comforted it by telling it to rest, he could do this the old fashioned way from now on.

Stiles could hear the boot falls stomping his way. An alarm began blaring.

It was too easy to blind into the shadows as the lights turned a dark blinking red.

He used the knife first, striking quickly. Stabbing into any part of flesh he could reach, before dancing back into shadow.

"Where the fuck is he?"

"What is he?"

"They said he was human."

"Fuck that, this ain't no human."

Stiles slinked further away from them. He needed to search for the rest of his pack.

He made a point to keep ambushing hunters here and there, but one got lucky and Stiles groaned as a bullet hit his arm.

He dropped his knife with a curse even as he had to run. Gun it was then.

He pulled two guns from stolen holsters and checked them over in his small hidden alcove.

Void begged to be released and Stiles indulged him, though he tried not to panic when Void's play was to casually stroll down the hallway, shooting anything that moved.

Finally a guard outside a door pointing a gun at him.

Void pointed a gun at the fidgeting man.

"Open the door." Void commanded.

The guard shakily shook his head.

Void growled, but held up his hands in surrender, Stiles winced at what the demon planned.

So quickly that Stiles even had a hard time seeing it the gun was on the floor and the void had the guard's head in his hand.

"Knock knock." Void rumbled and Stiles rolled his eyes at the stupid joke as Void began banging the man's head against the door.

Part of the man's skull stuck to the door, even as he slid to the ground.

Void slipped inside and immediately something was off. A single guard stood under the one light in the room, but void detected at least a dozen heartbeats.

Void hummed deeply as he brought a gun up to point at the man, "Well this is the most obvious trap I've ever seen. They didn't even give you a gun, just a cattle prod. How do you feel about that?"

The man sent a nervous glance up to the rafters and Void sighed as he lazily turned his other gun up to shoot once. Not looking away from the man as a body hit the floor.

"Don't worry about him, he's not apart of this conversation."

The man then stood straighter, even as his eyes flicked to Stiles' left now.

Void sighed again, "Yeah no, I know about the awful glamor thrown up over there. They aren't helping you right now, I am, so let's have a chat."

The man shook his head even as he fidgeted.

Void's eyes grew darker, "Do you know how many men and women I have killed today? Do you want to be one more?"

The man's eyes widened slightly, Void sighed, "I'm sorry, it's been a rough day. I'm sure you've had those, right?"

Void didn't dare move closer as he needed to be able to dive back into the hallway if need be.

"Your pack is behind there." The man suddenly stated. "You're right, I'm going to die if I help you or not. The argent bitch is behind there too. Be car-"

Suddenly Void was blinded by flood lights turning on. A gun shot rang out and Stiles heard the guard's body hit the floor.

Void used his hearing and shot toward the shuffle of movement. Glad when he heard some screams.

He blinked rapidly desperately trying to see, but the first fuzzy picture his mind could process was the shine of the cattle prods.

Void growled, "Fuck yo-" he was cut short by his scream as the weapon made contact with his skin.

He gripped the weapon tightly and yanked the hunter holding toward him, easily shooting him in the neck.

He turned as another hunter came forward and leveled the pistol at the man's face.

Click.

The man's shoulders relaxed as Void Smirked, "Lucky man."

The crack of electricity had Void turning to stare into a young face, terrified, but determined.

"Fucking children." Void receded to make way for Stiles' fury, "That's what you self righteous," he punched the child in the face to get him out of harm's way, "we do this to protect our families always use."

He charged into the remaining men, only eight left, "You hurt and murder innocent children in the name of your beliefs!"

Stiles relished in the piercing scream a hunter man was Stiles broke his arm, "You go after power like the monsters you claim us to be."

He kicked out at another hunter, "Look around you! You aren't only killing our children, but your own!"

"Says the man that is killing my men."

Stiles huffed and bitterly laughed loudly as he turned to look at the source of the new voice.

"Ah," he bared his teeth, "Kate Argent. Your timing is impeccable, as always."

Kate's eyes drank him in and Stiles stood, allowing it. He was now facing the most dangerous person in the vicinity and he would wait to see her play. One of them wouldn't come out of this alive, he would do his best to make sure it would be him.

"My, my, when I was informed I had a stalker I never imagined it would be an edible one."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "I thought I would be too old for you. You like them young and impressionable I believe. Gives you rather pathetic power trip, as your prey is so vulnerable, but that is the way of a narcisstic mass murdering psychotic bitch."

Kate smiled as she sauntered over to him, but before Stiles could think about attacking her hands grabbed him to keep him in place.

"Such high words for me, yet I couldn't place you in a lineup. Either that means you're extremely intelligent or inconsequential. Which one?"

Stiles smirked, "Could it be both?"

Kate blinked before throwing her head back laughing. A hand ran down his shoulder, prodding roughly into his bullet wound.

Stiles couldn't stop his tremors as the pain almost overwhelmed him, but this was a test and he would NOT bow to her.

Kate's smile turned lethal, "Oh, you are simply perfect."

Stiles saw the fist coming, but didn't break eye contact. Part of him welcomed the darkness again.

Chapter Text

Pain.

Her mocking voice.

The Hale's eyes watching every hit.

Isaac's tears.

"Leave him." Kate commanded.

Stiles swung limply, his head falling forward, blood dripping from his mouth.

"We are not done." Stiles tried not to flinch as her hand ran down his back.

"Such pain written in these scars. You can save yourself from more if you simply tell me how you know me. How do you have the information you have in that skull? How did you know about my family? We've taken great pains to not be discovered." She moved in front of him, "More than that you seem to know insider plans. What all do you know? Who has been helping you? I need answers and you will give them to me or I will begin on the wolves."

Stiles suddenly struck out with his magic to forcefully drag her to him, growling into her face, even as electricity riddled his body, "If you touch a hair on any of their heads I will take everything to my grave."

Her shocked eyes actually brought a, albeit shaky, smirk to his lips and then his energy gave out, his magic dissipating with it, and she quickly stepped away from him.

"You can't promise that. I have broken monsters much stronger than yourself."

Stiles actually chuckled, "Look at my body. Look at all," he mocked her voice, "the pain in my scars."

She rolled her eyes, even as she smirked at him.

Stiles waited until her eyes briefly met his again to continue, "You're too smart to think these all happened at the same time. And these are just what left a lasting mark. Besides," his tone changed to a light one, teasing, making her calculating eyes snap from his torso to his face, "If I made this easy for you, you wouldn't believe me and you'd be bored. Admit it, you like this route much better."

She couldn't help the smirk leading to the giggle leaving her lips, "I must admit you know me pretty well." She pouted as she turned to walk over to the table by the door, calling over her shoulder, "And I admit you are right that it looks like beatings won't get me anywhere. Fine. Your dogs are safe… for now."

Stiles wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained as he was getting his way, Kate started messing with things on the tabletop and he didn't like how the guard started smirking.

"I wonder," Kate started softly, looking over her shoulder at him, "if you know me as well as you seem, do you know my favorite hobby?"

Stiles couldn't stop his breathing spiking as she turned to show a tray with four syringes laid out on its surface.

She grinned, pleased with his reaction, "You do certainly know all my little secrets."

As she walked closer Stiles tried not to fidget away from her, her voice grating on his nerves, "I call it the waterfall. First stage you get the panic and drowning, second stage you get the falling, third stage you get the pain from hitting the rocks at the bottom, then stage four you surface, but you don't even have the energy to feel relief. Developed it myself with extensive research."

Stiles grimaced inwardly, she meant through previous torture of people, given the green light simply because of what they are. Their rights taken away simple for not being human. He wanted to gag.

"See," She continued pleasantly, almost seeming excited to show him her creation, "they each have a rune set on the syringe itself. Can you tell me what they mean? Show me what a smart boy you can be."

Stiles' eyes raked over the glass cylinders, the small symbols etched along its length.

"First three runes," he spoke, voice cracking, "bind them together. Last two runes in the sequence designate what order they are bound. It's obviously meant to be a multistage chemical induced torture. Any imbecile could accomplish this if they have basic alchemy knowledge and a pile of dead test subjects."

The guard behind her went to step forward, but Kate held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. She didn't look away from Stiles as she handed the tray to the guard. She smiled even wider at him, stepping yet another step closer.

"All that anger rolled up nicely in an edible package," her nails scratched down his torso teasingly, "how I'd love to see what you can do. I can see why Jennifer was so infatuated. You could be three times the ally she was and all I'd have to do is break you. Make it so you could only focus on my voice. Walk you around on a leash, mine to sike on my enemies with a single command." She sighed as her hand fell away, "Unfortunately my brother is here and he doesn't approve of such tactics."

Stiles tried not to get light headed from fear as she turned to grab the first needle. He didn't want this. He wasn't ready! The last time she held a syringe over him almost making him black out.

"Here we go!" She smiled sweetly up at him, his eyes snapping to watch, "Slight pinch!".

Stiles made sure to meet her eyes as she stepped back to watch it work. His stomach rolled as he saw the excitement in her eyes as she saw the first twitch to his hand.

He could feel her poison making its way through his blood stream, could feel it make its way down his body then traveling back up as it burned its way through his veins. His breathing picked up as it scorched his heart and he couldn't help the gasp as it hit his lungs. He felt his lungs constrict, every breath just enough to keep him alive, and yet his own oxygen acting as a catalyst for the poison.

He began to panic, the lack of oxygen shoving him into that desperate mindset. His face twisted this way and that as he struggled to breath. It was only when his eyes found Derek's tear streaked face that he remembered where he was. That he remembered there were things outside himself and his struggle.

Stiles felt his eyes slide closed as the darkness helped his headache somewhat. On his next inhale Stiles forcefully grabbed control of his body again. He needed to be in absolute control and regulate everything if he was going to make it through this. He willed himself to breathe slower and, while he was shaking and wheezing, when he opened his eyes again, he was at least in control.

Kate pursed her lips, "Beautifully done," Stiles was surprised that she actually sounded sincere, "but we are just beginning. See you in a few hours."

Kate turned to leave, but before closing the door behind her Kate called out to the guard, "Let me know if he says anything."

Then they were alone and Stiles let his head and eyelids drift downward. His loud wheezing, the only sound in the metal room. His limbs started to tingle and the feeling of needles stabbing his arms and legs, as oxygen was stolen from them, made him want to beg for it to end.

Time passed so slowly. Each second acting as a magnifying glass to his pain and his struggling lungs.

"Stiles?"

Stiles wanted to lift his head, but Void couldn't keep up with the pain and panic, much less help his body listen to him.

"Stiles?"

He wanted to answer Derek so badly.

"Shut up!" A voice yelled out, the sound piercing Stiles' pounding head.

"Please Stiles! Tell me you're okay!"

Stiles heard a grumble and then the humming from the generator getting louder, before all the wolves yelled out.

Stiles forced his vocal cords to mumble out something, just loud enough to be heard over the commotion.

The humming ceased instantly as the guard walked toward him, obviously wanting to report anything to Kate. Either because he feared her wrath or he wanted in her good graces, Stiles didn't care, he was going to use it to his advantage.

Stiles took as deep a breath as he dared to not panic his brain any more and mumbled out something again.

The guard walked closer, his breath hitting Stiles' sensitive skin, "You got something you want to say, you stupid cunt?"

Stiles swallowed thickly, "I said no one touches my fucking wolves."

Stiles let the split second of understanding wash over the man's face before he let the last of Void come through, taking sick pleasure at the terrified look on the guard's face right before Stiles pulled himself up on the chains to wrap his legs around the guard's throat.

Stiles yelled out as his overstimulated body had to exert itself even more. Everywhere his skin touched felt like fire and his lungs screamed for relief. He held on even as the dead weight of the guard pulled on his muscles. As Void passed out Stiles' legs fell, his sob loud enough to cover the body hitting the floor.

Stiles couldn't stop his shaking and a few more gut wrenching sobs spilling over. Stiles bit his lips and forcefully grabbed control of himself again, groaning with the effort. Void weakly offered to try to take more, but Stiles shushed him affectionately.

Stiles sluggishly tried to lift his head again and found that the first stage was ending, as he was able to take more and more oxygen in by the minute, then his head fell back as his world started to rise and fall, twisting in unnatural ways. He felt as if he was on a rollercoaster.

His head flopped to the side, forced by the whims of the new chemical, to see Isaac's terrified face.

Stiles licked his lips, even as he felt his world dip again, "You okay, little one?"

Isaac looked shocked, but put in a fake smile for Stiles, "Never better."

Stiles smiled even as his head flopped again as his world rose again, "You okay, Derek?"

Stiles heard a shaky inhale as his head flopped forward, his mouth slack.

"Yeah, I'm okay Stiles," Derek sounded far from okay, but Stiles couldn't do much beyond reaching out.

"Good," Stiles said sincerely, "Everyone else?"

He got varying acknowledgements, which he nodded sloppily in return, "Good, the others will be getting us help any time now. So we just have to hold on, but I swear if you draw attention to yourselves and make all my pain and pleading for nothing I will personally kill you, clear?"

"You got the others out?" Talia's hopeful voice floated over to him.

Stiles could only nod shakily, "Now everyone shut the fuck up, because I genuinely do not have the energy to do that again right now as I am currently on the chemical form of the Tower of Terror ride."

Thankfully no one spoke and he was allowed to focus solely on making it through this.

Maniacal laughter fell from his lips as his head twisted with rise and fall. This really was some strong drugs. But slowly his laughter turned to sobs and dry heaving.

A while later Stiles heard the loud creaking of the door opening. He couldn't lift his head to see who it was, but at the moment he couldn't care and let his eyes remain closed.

"Jesus Christ." A gruff voice swore as the first spoke.

"How many does this body make now?"

"38 then don't forget the fifteen with doc, some of them are touch and go."

"What the fuck is this thing?"

"Human according to the bosses."

An incredulous snort, "This ain't human."

"Whatever, we need to get the body."

"Yeah! Sure! You go get it."

"Come on, the bitch said he is high out of his mind right now. He isn't dangerous, he's passed out."

"Then how do you explain the dead body at his feet, hmm?"

"Then how do we get out of this alive?"

"We make damn sure he's passed out."

"What? Poke him with a stick or some shit?"

"Oh my god," the first voice sighed exasperatedly, "go grab that rope from the table, you used to work on a ranch, lasso his ankle to pull him toward us."

"The stick would be easier."

"Not the prisoner's you idiot. The dead body's ankle. That way we don't have to get near the homicidal maniac."

"Oh."

Stiles tried not to smirk as he purposely twitched when the hunters began to pull the body away by the rope.

"Shit! Hold! Hold!"

Silence.

"Okay."

Stiles didn't move again when they started moving.

"Did you see the report on the Eagle Team?"

"The idiots with the bunker? Yeah, I saw what he did to 'em. Didn't really process who exactly we had until the top brass showed up."

There was a slight grunt before a bemused voice said, "I didn't really understand the importance of this thing until we had to create a fucking mass burn pile out back."

"That's because your a dumbass." Stiles heard them sigh in relief when they had dragged the body far enough that in the end they only had to walk a single step forward to look down at their fallen member.

"And fuck you, by the way." The other hunter mumbled distractedly in response, but there was no heat to it. "How do you think he died?" the same hunter whispered, almost sounding scared he might wake Stiles up now.

"Wha- what the fuck do you mean? He died from getting too close to- to- to that!"

There was a slight huff, "No, you idiot. I mean why do you think he even got close to it? We don't even know what it really is."

"He probably was trying to get him to talk. Look good for that psycho blonde."

"Crazy eyes?"

There was a hum of affirmation, before the man whistled softly, "That's so- so-"

"Stupid."

"Yeah."

There was another hum of agreement.

"Let's go add him to the pile. The other group managed to kill a good chunk of perimeter guards when he let 'em out. We need to get this done then report there."

"Shut the fuck up."

"What?" The men were now grunting with the effort of lugging around the dead man.

"Mutts may be stupid, but they have ears."

A scoff, "What are they going to do?"

"Did you hear that crazy eyes has actually slept with some of these things?"

"What you've never thought about it?"

The door was now being opened again.

"I mean, sure, but come on. It's almost beastiality, isn't it?"

"I bet you think beauty and the beast was beastiality too."

"Well wasn't it?"

"I can't with you. It was a metaphor."

"Say what you will, the lady wanted to fuck a bear and well this ain't no meta-" they were cut off by the door slamming shut.

"The wit is astounding." Peter deadpanned, almost bored.

Stiles did manage to huff a laugh as the falling began to fade, "Of course you would be more insulted by being called stupid than being electrocuted every time you moved."

Stiles laughed again at how absurd the wolf was, but it was cut off by a scream as pain ripped through his body. It was the kind of pain that your body instinctively tried to recoil from. Pain that forces your body to contort into unnatural positions to try to find some combination that leads to the pain going away.

He didn't know how long it lasted, but his spark and Void were screaming inside his head along with him.

It left him as quickly it had come and he gasped as his head came back above water. He gulped in air desperately before his entire body slumped forward.

No pain and he could breath fine, but just like the monster predicted he couldn't find it in himself to be relieved. To find joy in being free, but instead felt bone crushing exhaustion.

He had experienced it before, as anyone who fights pain everyday of their lives has, but with it came the true darkness. Darkness that Void could only dream of being. The opportunistic slithering thoughts that pull you down into oblivion as soon as they catch a whiff of weakness.

He tried to ignore them, but he was so drained. Help was already on the way. They didn't need him. How peaceful and relieving it would be to just loosen the tight hold he always has to have on his will. To not constantly be checking his energy levels. To not have to worry every fucking minute of his life. He was already dead. This would fix the natural balance, right? If he just let his eyes slide closed and stopped fighting. to-

"Don't you dare."

Derek's voice would've made him jerk in shock, but all he could manage was to turn his heavy head to look at his Mate.

"You are my Mate, meaning I get a feeling of what you're feeling. You are much stronger than you even know, Stiles. I know you are so tired. I know your entire body is sore and your brain is spiraling, but please don't go. Please stay. Stay with me."

Stiles let his head drop, a loud sob breaking free from his throat, as shame washed over him, but also the tears that happen when someone has to keep pushing when they are running on empty.

Derek shushed him softly, "You don't have anything to feel guilty about, Baby. Just please hang on a little while longer."

Stiles nodded his head, but still couldn't look over at his wolf.

Stiles jerked back to the world of the living as the loud clank of metal disrupted the peaceful silence that had wrapped around them. His head raised slowly, even if his shoulders shook from the trouble of supporting his head to see who was walking through the door.

Silence overtook the room as everyone took in the three men in the doorway. Stiles usually would let them dictate the pace, but he was already about to pass out again. He wanted this done.

"Chris Argent. Welcome to the party." Stiles let his head fall to the side as he closed his eyes to let his head stop spinning, though he still might vomit.

"Leave us." Chris ordered the two men in masks on either side of him.

"But sir!" One spoke up.

Chris just patted the man's shoulder, "I'm not planning on getting close enough for him to do something to me and you've both been at my side for over 12 hours, protecting me. Now let me do something for you. Go eat and catch a couple hours of sleep. He looks to be on death's doorstep already. Besides," Chris turned to look back at Stiles, "I'm sure if I keep things civil Stiles and I can become fast friends."

The men still looked apprehensive, but finally one, then the other following suit, nodded.

"Thank you sir." Was uttered before the metal clanged shut.

Then it was just the two of them staring at each other. Silent. This time Stiles didn't want to break it so quickly. Chris finally sighed loudly as he looked over Stiles' body.

Stiles watched Chris suddenly turn to walk over to the table by the door and fiddle with some of the syringes and bottles there.

"She has you on quite the concoction of drugs, doesn't she?"

Chris's look became contemplative, "You must have her scared."

"Wouldn't you know? You are siblings, after all."

The only indication that this bothered Chris was a twitch of his finger before he turned to lean back onto the table, arms crossed, a calculating look in his eye.

"I'm more on the weapon development end of things, Kate is on the threat assessment side of things."

Stiles snorted, "Sounds like a business, not a family."

Chris smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes and Void could feel the sadness rolling off of the man at the truth of the statement.

"I'm here to torture you." Chris suddenly stated.

Stiles chuckled, well more wheezed, "Let's get on with it then."

Chris's lips pursed and he pushed off to walk slowly back towards Stiles, "Not quite yet."

Stiles' eyebrows rose in surprise and Chris couldn't meet his eye.

"Kate believes you know things about all of us that you shouldn't. We've never met you, but you know us. Are you a mind reader? Physic?"

Stiles looked on unimpressed and Chris nodded as if he expected this wasn't the case.

"Jennifer was our scout. I'm sure you've worked that out."

Stiles hadn't, but he wasn't going to correct Chris if he thought Stiles knew more than he did.

Chris continued, "We use witches to get close to packs and act as spies. Keep an eye on them, because we can't be everywhere and it lowers our chances of being recognized."

Chris walked yet a little closer, "Then we hear that Kali is having a coast coast tour of all the friendly packs to hers. What an opportunity to gauge and get insider information on dozens of packs in the span of a year."

Stiles had to admit it was a really good plan.

Chris crossed his arms again, "Before she died Jennifer managed to make several check-ins with us. She reported that the Hale's had not only one spark, but two and no one seemed to want to talk about where the spark came from. She managed to break into Talia's office, even with Nick Hale watching her, and she found an interesting list. A list that you gave to Talia when you joined her pack. A list that had both my sister and my father's names, but not mine. Then she lost contact, killed because she tried to attack the Hale pack."

"That's a lovely narration of events. Why are you telling me this?" Stiles refused to show that he was even holding cards until he knew more.

Stiles and Chris stared at each other, both sizing the other one up.

"Then," Chris continued, as if Stiles hadn't spoken, "we manage to get some of the Hales to try and figure out what the fuck happened."

"You mean kidnapped, you kidnapped, and don't forget the Dread Doctors, you sided with the Dread Doctors."

Chris' body went rigid, "We what?"

Chris truly looked livid, eyes wide, nostrils flared. "I was talking about the team we sent in. The bucker. What are you talking about?"

Silence.

"The Dread Doctors kidnapped the Hales and when I found them said they did it to get my attention."

"That had nothing to do with us!"

"Then explain why after I butchered them someone came the next morning to check on them. People that smell like gun oil and wolfsbane."

Chris opened and closed his mouth, then his face shut down. With scary precision Chris' emotions were wiped from his face.

"Ask Peter Hale, if you don't believe me. I called him when I lost the tracks through the woods at a highway."

Chris looked to Peter then and Stiles felt his heart swell as the man had to do a double take. Chris shuffled his feet, but then his head came snapping back to Stiles' face.

"The Dread Doctors are narcissistic megalomaniacs that twist things past the breaking point."

Stiles shrugged to the best of his ability, "I agree with you, but also would like to point out the team you sent in… also kidnapping!"

Chris' face twisted in discomfort, "The threat level was deemed appropriate for such action."

Stiles eyes turned to slits, "I could say the same about yours! We. Were. Defending. Ourselves."

Chris growled, "We've gotten off track."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Fine. Where would you like to pick up?"

Chris licked his lips, "You have become an obsession for my sister. Now I don't know what to believe, but I do know that the fact that you even knew our names is almost impossible. You know things about Kate's… interests."

"Nice way of saying her mass murder statutory rapist side, but sure… her interests."

Chris froze again, "I beg your pardon."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "You were always one of the smartest men I knew, are you seriously telling me you didn't know?"

Chris was losing his patience as his fists clenched, "What the fuck do you think I'm doing here, Stiles? Why the fuck do you think I sent the guards away! You speak as if we've met, as if you know me so well… so fucking explain my actions now!"

The ringing silence after Chris stopped yelling had Stiles clenching his jaw painfully, both men glaring at the other. Both in impossible situations.

Stiles was the one that broke the silence, "What do you want to know? I'm too tired to play anymore games."

"I want to know what you know of my family's actions."

"So did Kate. I haven't given her shit. Why would I give you anything?"

"Let me restate the question. I want to know if you know what my sister and my father do when they leave for months at a time."

Stiles suddenly got it and Chris relaxed when he saw the recognition. Instead of torturing Stiles for the information Kate wanted, he was looking into his own gut feelings.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you just want the truth. For justice. Tell me you follow the code."

"How do you know about the Hunter's code?"

Stiles just stared at him.

Chris sighed, "I truly want to know if you are innocent of crimes against the code. I want to know if my worst nightmare is true and what I think my family is doing is actually happening."

Stiles stayed silent.

Chris sighed as he turned to pull the stool close to Stiles to sit down, "Listen, I know I have been lied to by my family, it's a tradition by this point. I am so sick of hearing of an awful slaughter that is reported as werewolf attacks, but when I look at the report things don't add up. I started asking questions and I was given a brush off. I pushed and I was actively blocked from information. I can't undo what I believe my family has done, but you have to understand I will not move against my family before I know for certain. Please tell me you at least understand that?"

Stiles nodded, "But why now?"

Chris ran a hand over his face as he stood up again, "When I say I was blocked from information, I mean it started out slow and then I outright didn't get reports for months. I never knew where a lot of the meetings were happening or when. I would just hear a rumor months after anything happened. Then you fucking appear and when I tell you that Kate wants you, she wants you bad. She is losing sleep. She is scarred and I've never seen my sister break a sweat, much less beg me for help. So, now do you get it? She's so focused on you that I have now been able to look into things. You are the first live person I've met that I think truly knows what the hell is going on. Please, Stiles, no bullshit. I need your help."

Stiles didn't look away as he called out, "Peter is he telling the truth?"

Chris turned as Peter's low voice gave an affirmative. Stiles let Chris stare for a little too long before bringing the attention back to himself, "Tell me you want justice. True justice."

Chris' eyes flicked back to Stiles', "If it's what I believe, then it would go against everything we are meant to be as hunters. At the end of the day my job is to kill monsters. True monsters."

Chris was already looking back at Peter and Stiles didn't have to ask to get Peter's, somewhat delayed, verification that he was truthful.

"Okay," Stiles softly spoke, "where do you want to start?"

"You know me, but I don't know you."

Stiles laughed, it caused more blood to dribble down his face.

"Yeah, I knew you. Did you ever marry Victoria?"

Chris's mouth opened in shock, which just made Stiles smile widen, his teeth tinted red from the blood in his mouth.

"How-"

"Like I said… I knew you."

Chris' face twisted in irritation and he turned away, but stopped dead in his tracks, only to slowly turn back to Stiles, a disbelieving look on his face.

"You knew me, but not me."

Stiles smiled turned slightly proud.

"You really were one of the smartest men I'd ever known."

"How the hell is that possible?"

"It's a fucked up world."

Chris let out a surprised dry chuckle.

"If… if I did marry her. What was my life like?"

"She was a grade A bag of dicks. You were loyal to her though."

Chris laughed a little louder, "She was very intense to begin with."

"She gave you a kid."

Chris's eyes widened, his eyebrows creasing slightly in bittersweet happiness for a child he'd never met.

"Boy or girl?"

"A girl."

Chris whispered softly, "I had a baby girl."

"Allison, her name was Allison."

"Allison." Chris tested the name on his tongue, his smile turning wistful.

"She was the best archer I've ever known. A sharp mind mixed with a rebellious streak, but a heart that was too kind at times. She had a way of touching every single life she came into contact with."

"What happened to her?"

"She died." Stiles' face crumpled.

"You loved her." Chris observed.

Stiles blinked tears away, it stung his wounds on his face, "Not in the way you're thinking. She was my brother's first love. They're love was one for the story books. Love at first sight for both of them and lasted long after their environment tore them apart. He was a wolf. She was a hunter. You and Victoria were so mad. Gerard tried to murder my brother. The strongest love would even have a hard time surviving. They loved each other with a passion that mimicked a Mate's love."

"Mate? I've heard about that." Stiles didn't miss the way Chris' eyes snapped to Peter and back.

Stiles nodded.

"Did I have one?"

Stiles hesitated. He wasn't going to feed Chris anything that wasn't straight fact, he didn't want to make Chris think he was trying to pull anything.

Chris fidgeted, "I did, didn't I?"

"It sounds like you already know."

Chris licked his lips again, "We'll get back to that. Tell me what my family has done."

So Stiles did, starting with his world, then what his research found in their movements before he arrived, and then finally what really led to Stiles hanging in chains.

By the end Chris had his head in his hands, bent over. No one mentioned the tremble to his lip or the white knuckle grip on his knee when he finally emerged.

"I thought I knew how much- I mean she- they- Jesus Christ."

"Why don't you go meet Peter now." Stiles suggested softly, knowing it would calm Chris subconsciously and Peter's wolf would want the chance to check on their distressed mate themselves.

Chris blearily looked at him, only to stand from the stool he had once again used when his knees gave out, nodding absentmindedly.

Soft conversation could be heard, but Stiles didn't have the energy to really pay attention to it.

"Stiles?"

Stiles hummed happily, "Yeah?"

"How are you doing?"

Stiles chuckled darkly, "I'm okay, Little Wolf. You hanging in there?"

Derek grumbled, "I'm fucking losing my mind, Baby."

Chris suddenly was in front of him, eyes a little clearer.

"I'm so sorry. I can't free you, a lot of the hunters want to just outright kill you. They will think I've been tricked or compelled if I go out now spewing the truth."

Stiles swallowed, "I know. The others?"

Chris nodded, "We are a long way away. It will take them a while, especially as some were injured."

Stiles couldn't help the frustrated whimper escaping as he once again tried to rearrange.

Chris looked up at the chains, "I may actually be able to help you out, though. When I did have to torture someone I would usually prefer them to be tied to a chair, so I could put more pressure into the blade or pliers or…it doesn't matter. One second."

Chris quickly left only to reappear with a metal, but padded chair.

Stiles screamed as he was lowered to the floor. His legs not even trying to hold him up. Involuntary shudders overtook his entire body and he curled in on himself.

"Shit," Chris spat as he softly moved some matted hair off Stiles' forehead, "I think he has a fever."

"There is still a bullet in his side." Peter quickly provided.

"Right. Right." Chris ran back over to the table, coming back with a tray, "Listen to me Stiles, this is going to hurt. But don't hold back on yelling okay. I told Kate I was going to try my way to keep her out for a while. She knows I don't like an audience, don't feel like it needs to be a spectacle. The more screaming the longer we have, get it?"

Stiles nodded, before he could only scream as forceps were unceremoniously shoved into his bullet wound. This wasn't the way he would do it, but he was more focused on the blackness invading his vision, except this time he knew Void was still drained.

He jerked awake as the chains were being fastened around him and the chair.

His spark could breathe easier, but still didn't have enough energy to raise their head. He knew it would be weeks before they were completely back.

Stiles screamed when Chris injected him with something, right in his wound.

"I'm sorry," Chris said as he stepped back, "look they won't know I took the bullet out and injected you with some antibiotics, all they will see is bloody forceps and needle. I can create a pretty good torture with that."

Stiles didn't react, just focused on breathing. He slumped in the chair, because he could without his arms screaming at him. It felt like heaven. It felt like hell.

"I can help your people when they get here and in the meantime try to find a way out for you myself, but I need my sister and father to be completely occupied. That means you are going to experience a pain you've never experienced before, from an experimental torture, not meant for humans. Trust me Gerard will be so thirsty for a new clinical trial for this machine that he won't leave and will be wrapped up in the numbers. And Kate… well you'll be in pain and giving her answers. It's just… well I don't know if you will survive."

"Shut up." Stiles commanded as all the Hales started to protest.

"Listen to me," Stiles spoke to Chris, "I mean nothing. I will endure what I have to, but you have to promise me you will get my pack out."

Chris looked pitiful, but just turned with more syringes, "I will give you some boosters. The rest is up to you to keep them busy."

Chapter Text

Stiles jerked awake as someone grabbed his chin forcefully.

"Good morning sunshine. Seems my brother really did a number on you. Called your name several times."

Stiles didn't say anything, which only made Kate smile wider.

"You know," she stood back up, looking gleeful, "I thought I was the only one that could piss my brother off this much."

Stiles took in the rest of the room as Kate looked off to the right and realized how many people were in the room.

Gerard was mumbling to himself as he messed with a large machine on a thick metal cart.

Three guards were posted by the door and Kate was now talking to a small mousy woman about a pile of crystals on the cart.

"We're ready." Gerard got in position at the machine that was taking readings, of what Stiles couldn't tell.

Kate giggled happily as she turned to Stiles again, the witch behind her refused to look away from the crystals.

"You know, Jennifer was a useful sadistic fuck." Kate sighed dramatically, "If you knew how to twist her, which I did." Her voice went into a high pitched impression of herself, "Oh my! What a brilliant idea! I never would've thought of making something to pull the answers out of someone's head." Kate tsked loudly as she scowled, "Like I wasn't the one to subtly plant the idea into her head."

Kate walked closer, "Did you know memories aren’t stored in just one part of the brain? Different types are stored across different, interconnected brain regions. For explicit memories – which are about events that happened to you, as well as general facts and information, there are three important areas of the brain: the hippocampus, the neocortex and the amygdala. Implicit memories, such as motor memories, rely on the basal ganglia and cerebellum. Short-term working memory relies most heavily on the prefrontal cortex. This machine brings that scientific knowledge into the magical realm."

Stiles' eyes glanced at the pile of crystals and the different blinking lights on the front panel of the machine.

Kate followed his look and did an little excited jump, "Oh, yes, of course, let me show you," she quickly grabbed a crystal and brought it to Stiles for him to see, "see this right here acts as a memory refractor. Just like light turns into a prism when it passes through a crystal, these runes etched in the crystal do the same thing with memories!"

She moved the crystal closer to his face so he could see the runes and his stomach turned suddenly. Among magical ties there in the middle of the sequence was the eye of the beholder.

Fuck.

What the fuck is this.

Kate saw his panic as he couldn't have hidden it if he had tried, she smiled sweetly down at him.

"You okay down there, Darling?"

Stiles clenched his jaw painfully. This was so much worse than he could have imagined.

"Now it's time to get you ready, I hate to say this might be a little uncomfortable."

Kate didn't sound apologetic, she couldn't even fake concern, much less empathy. He glared up at her, but it lost some of its heat as she turned with six sharp metal probes connected to the machine by long cables. The metal probes had jagged sharp points at the end and looked to measure half an inch in length.

"Of course we are going to have to prepare your head first."

Stiles struggled as he was held down suddenly from hands behind him. A loud buzzing was heard and then he felt the electric hair trimmer moving along his head. He tried to not let this affect him, it shouldn't. After everything, this being stripped from him should not make him want to cry. It shouldn't, but it did.

He blinked them away, refusing to allow the emotion to come to surface.

“We have only defended ourselves! Leave him alone! Please! Please, let me take his place. Take me!” Talia screamed, Gerard upped the amperage on their electricity without even sparing her a glance.

Stiles was released and his chair that had been leaned back for them to work slammed back onto the floor with a thundering bang.

Silence overtook the room as Stiles got his bearings, only to slowly sit back in his chair, wishing he could kill Kate right now. His mind ran wild with what he could do to her, if she fought fair, but that wasn't her style.

Kate giggled as she looked at Stiles’ glaring at her, “Oh what’s wrong sweetheart?” she sighed as she wiggled down to straddle his lap. Derek struggled against his restraints, but was stopped shot by a strong wave of electricity.

Stiles tried to control his anger, but he was breathing hard and he knew his face wasn't hiding his disgust.

Kate smirked as she got up to circle around Stiles, letting her hand trail over his exposed skin. She bent to whisper in his ear, knowing full well that the captured werewolves could hear, “You want to hit me don’t you?” She nipped his ear softly, “You want to kill me?” She had circled back around and leaned into his face, “That’s kind of hot.”

There was a stretch of silence where Stiles just stared at her unimpressed and when he saw her body relax at his lack of reaction he suddenly lunged forward, smacking his head directly into her face. She stumbled back holding her now bleeding nose. Cursing loudly.

He had to blink a couple times from his own pain, but he was proud he kept his own pained groan down, even if his face twisted in pain.

Though he did groan as her sharp nails scratched his face as she slapped him.

"Stop playing with your food." Gerard scolded her as she angrily grabbed the cables again.

Stiles screamed as a probe was inserted into his head. He couldn't really tell where, as his entire head was in pain.

Kate didn't give him a breather as was already inserting the next before he could catch his breath.

On the four one Kate tutted, “These were meant for werewolves who have a much higher pain threshold, so I have to admit I'm surprised you’re even still awake.”

When she finally stepped back Stiles had tears and blood running down his face. He felt light headed and let out a pitiful dry heave.

"Give him a booster, we don't need him dying on me before I get my answers like the rest of them."

"The last two didn't die." Gerard defensively stated.

Kate rolled her eyes, "Yeah, yeah, but I don't think losing your mind counts, Dad."

A guard walked over with three syringes and Stiles didn't react as he was stuck this time. Instead watching the mousy witch set up the crystals in a circle in front of him and then listened to her set up six in a semi circle behind him.

Gerard sent him a toothy smile as he flipped a switch and Stiles jolted and yelled out as energy surged into his brain. He was going to be fried alive, but just as he thought he would die, the pain subsided and he was left shuddering in his chair. When he blinked the room back into focus he froze, unable to believe his eyes.

Before him a small boy kneeled by a coffee table, coloring intently. Stiles felt the air get knocked out of him. This was him, when he was a boy.

Stiles tried to get up, to go to him, but he found he couldn’t move, why couldn't he move? Restraints, a small voice supplied. Right. Right. He was being held captive.

“Mischief, come say hello to our guests! They are going to come stay with us after school until their mom and dad get done with work.”

Stiles, little Stiles, looked over his shoulder to see his mom standing there with an older girl and a young boy. He stood, but turned too quickly and almost fell flat on his face. He steadied himself quickly and as he stood back to his full height he had a small look of pride on his face.

He totally missed the fond amusement on the girl's face, but the other boy seemed very concerned as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Hi! I’m Stiles!”

“Hello,” the girl smiled down at him, her long brunette hair falling around her angular face, “I’m Laura and this is my brother Derek.”

The young boy smiled shyly at Stiles.

Stiles immediately liked him and grabbed onto his hand, “Want to come see my new rock I found?”

Derek looked up at his sister who smiled widely, “You can go if you want to.”

Derek turned back and nodded. Stiles jumped up and down in excitement as he led a wide eyed Derek to the backyard, babbling all the way.

Stiles’ hands clenched as he realized he really was about to have to rewatch his life, more than that, he could feel young Stiles' emotions. The immediate love he held for Derek and the happiness it brought him to show him his rocks.

What was more is that Stiles found himself having trouble concentrating on what was real. He was getting sucked into his memories and he didn't know if he'd be able to find his way out again.

Chapter Text

Stiles felt himself get sucked in with each new scene and they were going by fast. Some seemed to play out in real time as others seemed to skip by him and that was when, with the last ounce of independent brain power Stiles possessed, he realized it depended on how important the memory was to him.

If he had spent a lot of time thinking about it and playing it over in his head then it would have a stronger presence in his mind.

Dread filled his entire body, clashing with the childlike joy his memories were pushing through him. He would blink and another scene would be playing out in front of him.

This was his personal hell realized. With that last terror filled thought he focused on the images and the emotions they brought. Enjoying the happiness while he could, because it wasn't going to last.

More images of Derek and him playing together played before him. A forgotten overheard conversation between their mothers about how Stiles was the only person who could pull the quiet and shy Derek out of his shell.

Scott was introduced soon after, but Derek never seemed to be around when Scott was over.

His mother got sick. His father seemed so lost and Stiles sat beside her bedside. Day in and day out. The once vibrant child, now staring blankly at the opposite wall.

Blink.

“You should see the way he looks at me! He’s trying to kill me!” his mother's terrified screams cut through him.

“He’s nine years old!” His dad sounded desperate, lost.

Blink.

The heart monitor was beeping as always beside Stiles as he sat in the hospital chair, legs dangling, not yet tall enough for them to reach the floor.

The monitor skipped a beat and Stiles turned to look at it. He watched as the beeps became further apart. He just stared at the green moving line as it showed his mother leaving and when the alarm blared when nothing but a steady line was left he watched in blank horror as they tried to bring her back.

A nurse finally ushered him out of the room where he stood staring at the now closed door. Alone, until Melissa came down the hallway. She tried to get him away from the door, but he wouldn't budge. He didn't look at her as she sat down next to him on the floor. Then she was talking and for once Stiles didn't join in the conversation, just happy to have something to cling to other than the noises coming from his mother's room.

Blink.

The funeral was a blur for Stiles, Scott was there with him, not speaking, just sitting close by. Derek came through the line at the wake afterwards, but Stiles just stared blankly at him. Derek actually whimpered, but someone moved them further away quickly.

Blink.

His father was drunk, again. Noah was in a ball on the floor sobbing. He was so gone that he didn’t process that it was his eleven year old son who gently pried the liquor bottle from his hand.

Noah moaned about not knowing what to do with his son now and Stiles didn’t say anything or react as this wasn’t anything new as he led his father to his room.

Noah sat on the edge of the bed and let Stiles take his shoes off as he drank the glass of water that was handed to him without a fight.

For his part, Stiles, if nothing else, was happy that his dad wasn’t a mean drunk- just lost.

The little boy tucked his father into bed and laid out a clean uniform on the chair in the corner. He then set his dad’s alarm clock for the appropriate time for his next shift and shut the door on his way out.

He went downstairs and proceeded to pour the remaining booze down the kitchen sink, he took the bottle outside and hid it at the bottom of the neighbors recycling set out to be picked up tomorrow. His dad, as sheriff, couldn’t afford to have it be known how much he was drinking, or at least that’s what his father drunkenly told him one night- worried about keeping his job.

Coming back in he did the dishes in the sink, packed his dad some leftover spaghetti for his lunch the next day and checked that all the doors were properly locked.

Stiles quietly sat down at the kitchen table, opened his school notebooks, and quickly finished his homework he had started earlier in the day.

He finally changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed as he turned out the light. He used to sleep with a nightlight on, but his mother's medical bills were a strain on his father. He mumbled about it a lot in his stupor. Logically he knew his little night light didn’t make that big of a difference on the electric bill, but it still felt like he was helping.

Blink.

He was at the department working on some homework since 12 was a little too soon to be left alone apparently and Melisa took Scott to see his dad that weekend. His dad was working a double, and Stiles could see the long stretch between drinking was having an effect on him, but Noah had a strong work ethic and would never drink on the job. Okay, so maybe Stiles had begged to come to the station, to keep an eye on his dad’s wellbeing.

Noah and the other deputies had rushed out a few hours earlier, leaving Stiles with just a few of the rookies still too green for little more than paper filing.

The door swung open as they filed back into the building and all the deputies seemed to be subdued. A smell overtook the building. Smoke.

A sobbing young woman is ushered into another room with his father, but he only had eyes for the boy that was now sitting alone in the conference room, covered in soot and a blank look on his face. Derek.

The teenager never came to Stiles' house anymore as Talia was his mother's friend and his dad couldn't even talk about his mother, much less keep in contact with her friends. Derek though had stayed around, Laura with a small smile just for them it seemed as she was usually not too far away when Derek showed up suddenly by Stiles' side.

Though a year and a half ago something happened and Derek stopped appearing out of nowhere. Stiles found himself lingering in the woods around his house as Derek always seemed to show up there, but nothing.

A dark worry and pain had overtaken the young boy, but he had no way to go to the Hale's house out in the preserve. No way to check on his childhood friend. Looking at him now made Stiles' heart ache.

Stiles slowly stood and cautiously started to make his way to him when his dad grabbed his arm, “I just need to warn you. The Hales- there was a fire- they-” Stiles laid a hand on his dad’s arm to silence him and nodded.

Stiles didn’t speak as he came into the room to see a tech taking samples of the dirt underneath Derek’s fingernails. He sat down to wait as Derek was required to hand over his clothes.

Derek quickly changed into the provided generic extra set of clothes kept for the times clothes were needed to be kept for evidence. The tech sent Derek a sympathetic look, patting Stiles on the shoulder on her way out. Derek settled back into the chair at the head of the table.

Derek hadn’t said a word the entire time and he was still staring blankly. Stiles didn’t send him a sympathetic look or talk to him. He grabbed the washcloth the tech left when it became clear Derek wasn’t going to use it and went to the sink at the back of the room, where the coffee maker was.

He wet the cloth with warm water and made sure to grab a large plastic bowl of warm water as well. He made his way back to Derek, making sure to keep his movements calm and measured.

Stiles slowly started to clean the soot and grime from Derek’s hands, The worst was his face, but Stiles wanted to start in a more neutral zone and work up to touching his face. Still no one spoke.

Stiles focused on his work and had to get new water and a new cloth twice by the time he got to Derek’s face. It wasn’t until Stiles softly turned Derek’s face toward him to start to clean, that something flickered in Derek’s eyes.

Stiles froze as they stared at each other. Both of their eyes screamed to the other in pain and understanding. Stiles didn’t know why he did it, but he softly brought his lips to Derek’s forehead in comfort. Derek sucked in a hard breath and Stiles pulled back to continue to clean him. No words. No pushing. No judgement.

As Stiles moved to clean everything up a hand suddenly caught his wrist, causing him to look back into those terrified green eyes. Stiles just placed his hand onto the older boy’s with a whispered reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Blink.

Two days later Stiles rode his bike to the temporary housing his dad had said the Hales had been set up in to find it abandoned. He stood staring at the now empty house, his body shaking as a new anguish settled in his stomach that he didn't fully understand. His mother was gone and now the Hales were too.

Blink.

Melissa stepped in to help with his dad and he was put on Adderall. Lydia Martin became his teenage wet dream.

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.” Stiles excitedly yelled, hanging upside down in front of Scott.

“A dead body?” Scott asked as he lowered his bat.

“No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body.”

Blink.

“Dude, that was Derek Hale!”

Blink.

Derek Hale was in front of his car.

"You've got to be kidding me. This guy's everywhere-" Stiles looked around to see if anyone else was seeing this shit.

When Derek collapsed Stiles and Scott rushed to him.Scott’s puppy dog eyes stared at Derek confusedly "What the hell? What are you doing here?"

Derek was breathing heavily, "I was shot."

Stiles was staring at Derek in concern, "He's not looking so good, dude."

"Why aren't you healing?" Scott added.

"I can't. It was--it was a different kind of bullet."

Stiles’ eyebrows raised, "A silver bullet?"

"No, you idiot."

Blink.

Stiles and Derek were driving now and they were fighting again.

"I can't take you to your own house?"

"Not when I can't protect myself."

"All right. What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?"

"Not yet. I have a last resort."

"What do you mean? What last resort?” Derek pulled up his sleeve to show the grotesque wound hiding underneath and Stiles looked like he was about to vomit, “Oh, my God. What is that? Oh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out."

"Start the car. Now."

"I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

"Start the car, or I'm gonna rip your throat out... with my teeth."

Stiles huffed, but started the car again.

Blink.

They were at Deaton’s waiting on Scott and Derek was declining.

Stiles blinked at the now shirtless Derek, "Okay. You know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night of sleep couldn't take care of."

"When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me."

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?"

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time… last resort."

"Which is?"

"You're gonna cut off my arm."

Stiles’ eyes widened, "Oh, my God. What if you bleed to death?"

"It'll heal if it works."

"Ugh. Look... I don't know if I can do this."

"Why not?"

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!"

Derek looked incredulous, "You faint at the sight of blood?"

Stiles raised his voice in frustration, "No, but I might at the sight of a chopped-off arm!"

"All right, fine. How about this? Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head."

Stiles scoffed, "Okay, you know what, I'm so not buying your threats any--"

Derek grabbed Stiles by the shirt and pulled him close threateningly.

"Oh, my God. Okay. All right, bought, sold. Totally. I'll do it. I'll do it.”

Blink.

Stiles and Derek were in his Jeep, Stiles turned in his seat, "Okay, now the keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father's office. The problem is getting past the front desk."

Derek went to get out of the Jeep, "I'll distract her."

Stiles slapped a hand onto Derek’s chest, "Whoa, whoa, whoa–you? You're not going in there.” Derek was frozen as he sent a significant look to where Stiles was touching him, “I'm taking my hand off."

"I was exonerated."

"You're still a person of interest."

"An innocent person."

Stiles scoffed, "An–you? Yeah, right! Okay, fine. What's your plan?"

Derek looked like he was having to explain something to a simpleton, "To distract her."

"Uh–huh. How? By punching her in the face?"

"Heh, by talking to her."

Stiles nodded sarcastically, "Okay, all right. Give me a sample. What are you gonna open with?”

Derek looked like he was going to say something, but then just turned to look at him again, “Dead silence. That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?"

"I'm thinking about punching you in the face."

Peter kept popping up. Stiles turned down the bite, but they had a weird connection.

“His username is ‘Allison’?” a beat, “His password is ‘Allison’?” Peter’s voice was incredulous.

Blink.

Stiles was struggling with Derek’s weight as he once again had to spit out water from almost going under, "Okay, I don't think I can do this much longer."

Derek looked panicked, "No, no, no. Don't even think about it."

Stiles huffed out a tired and frustrated breath, "Would you just trust me this once?"

"No."

"I'm the one keeping you alive, okay, have you noticed that?"

"Yeah. And when the paralysis wears off, who is gonna be able to fight that thing, you or me? You don't trust me, I don't trust you. You need me to survive, which is why you are not letting me go."

Stiles blinked and he wasn’t in the pool anymore.

"Stiles."

"Derek."

"What did you see at the mechanic's garage?"

"Uh, several alarming EPA violations that I'm seriously considering reporting. Holy God."

Derek huffed, "Let's try that again.”

Blink.

"Quiet." Derek quietly commanded towards Stiles, but Stiles whipped his head toward the werewolf in anger. He felt an overwhelming desire to punch him, instead he used his words. Stiles’ main defense.

Stiles stepped into Derek’s space and saw the man freeze as he obviously sensed the overwhelming rage and fear rolling off of him, for some reason this made Stiles even angrier, "Me, be quiet? Me, huh? You're telling me what to do now? When your psychotic, mass murdering girlfriend, the second one you've dated by the way, has got my dad somewhere tied up where he´ll be ritually sacrificed?"

The older Stiles let silent tears roll down his face as the past feeling washed over him just as they did the first time. His hands shook with them. His dad. He needed to save his dad.

Stiles was positioned over Derek’s unconscious body, "Derek! Derek, come on!"

When slapping him didn’t wake him he pulled his hand back to punch him, only to have Derek grab onto his wrist, both staring at the other for a long moment.

Derek broke the silence, "Where is she?"

"Jennifer? Gone, with Scott's mom."

"She took her?"

"Yeah, if that's not enough of a kick to the balls Scott left with Deucalion. We gotta get you outta here, the police are coming right now, and we gotta get you the hell out of here."

Blink.

Derek stared at Stiles intently, "Shut up."

Stiles scoffed, "Don't be such a Sourwolf."

Blink.

Stiles couldn’t believe his ears, “Are you serious? Have you still not seen Star Wars?”

Scott shot back, “I swear, if we make it back alive, I will watch the movies.”

“It just makes me crazy.” Stiles shot back.

Present day Stiles struggled against his bindings as his body was struggling to keep up with the different emotions. The memories were coming too fast. His body spasmed. A scream? His scream?

Blink.

Erica threw him into a dumpster.

“I don't know that, Danny, okay? It's your dream. Take responsibility for it.”

Blink.

Boyd and Erica were shaking attached to electrodes. Stiles was frantically trying to release them, but Erica whimpered as a large hand fell onto his shoulder.

A fist connected to his face, knocking him to the ground and Stiles found himself looking up into the face of Gerard Argent. He tried to talk his way out of it, but was just met with another punch.

He woke up on the floor, a small puddle of now dried blood by his head. He looked around to see that Erica and Boyd were still strung up. He limped, well more crawled his way to the generator. Once the power was off the wolves broke through their bonds. Boyd went to try and help Stiles up, but Boyd was shaking too badly.

Stiles shook his head, “Go. Run. You don’t have enough strength to carry me and I’ll just slow you down.”

“We aren’t leaving you.” Erica’s quivering voice sounded to his right.

“Weren’t you trying to leave to begin with?” Stiles bit out gruffly and both wolves hung their heads.

“We don’t want to leave now.” Boyd spoke softly.

“Go,” Stiles repeated and he fought consciousness, “find Derek and lead him back here. I can manage til you get help.”

Boyd squeezed his shoulder and Erica kissed his temple, then they were gone. Leaving him to go in and out of unconsciousness on the floor. His vision was slightly blurry and filled with dark spots.

Rough hands gripped him and the slide of cold chains was almost a sting against his bruised flesh. His world spun as he was hoisted up, his feet dangling just a few inches from the floor.

A gruff voice asking him question after question. For once Stiles remained silent. Blood ran down his body as the metal chains bit into his wrists, but he remained silent. Even his tears ran silently down his cheeks.

When Gerard huffed and stepped back from him Stiles was relieved, he should've known better.

His screams bounced off the sides of the basement. His blood flowed down his back as the whip flew through the air. His entire body lightly swung, the chains clanking from the movement.

“Where is Derek Hale hiding?”

“Who?” Stiles wheezed past a sob, only to scream as another strike of metal against his skin.

He gasped loudly, “I’m sorry, can you please repeat your question?”

Another scream. “I will sew that smart mouth shut!” Gerard screamed into his face.

Stiles just smirked, even if it was wobbly, into the old man’s face, “You will never find him.”

Blink.

Stiles watched Scott get into the car with the Argent's and drive away. The sting of betrayal was nothing compared to his back.

Scott had gotten the argent's off of him, not Derek, but now he was gone.

His stomach twisted, had Erica and Boyd left him? Did Derek even know? Did Scott even care that he was going along with the same people that beat the shit out of his best friend? His dad was working a double shift, so he wouldn't even know Stiles had been gone. He was completely alone.

A new type of pain wove into his body. The kind that zapped his energy from his limbs and made his mind lightheaded.

He fell roughly against the front of his car and screamed at the contact.

Suddenly there were large hands holding him up and a deep voice, "Whoa, I got you."

"Derek?"

"Yeah, Stiles, I'm here."

"Erica- Boyd-" his voice was muffled by his dry heave.

"Deaton is taking care of them. I was running to come get you and I heard- I heard you scream. Stiles, God, what did they do to you?"

All of a sudden the pain was lessening and Stiles was able to look up to those green eyes. His heart stuttered. Derek's eyes were so expressive and the concern there made Stiles dizzy. So open.

"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen." Stiles' reached up to lightly trail his fingertips over Derek's cheek.

The wolf seemed frozen and his eyes changed to one of awe before they snapped back to concern when Stiles' legs suddenly gave way.

"Okay, okay, let's get you someplace safe."

Stiles woke later on his stomach in Derek's loft. He tried to sit up, but a gentle but firm hand kept him in place.

"Don't move, Deaton had to stitch you up."

"My dad?" Stiles rasped.

"I had Erica text him on your phone to tell him you're spending the night at Boyd's house. He texted back he's working a double so no sweat about dinner, he'll pick something up."

Stiles growled, but his dry throat turned it into a cough, "And now he's going to take five years off his life from the grease he's going to ingest."

Derek's eyebrows furrowed even as he gently brought a straw to Stiles lips. Stiles sighed gratefully as the liquid soothed his throat.

"Thank you."

Derek looked away, "I am the one that should be thanking you."

Stiles scoffed, even as he winced with pain, "You may hate me Sourwolf and think the worst of me, but I would never give you over to those asshats."

Derek focused on the drink he was holding in his lap, fingers fidgeting, before he slowly brought it back up for Stiles to drink some more, "I don't hate you Stiles, I never could hate you."

Stiles' smile grew wider the pinker Derek's ears got, but instead of a snarky comment he settled on a soft, "Back at ya, big guy."

Derek helped him heal and when he went back home Stiles thought he saw regret, but more importantly longing in the wolf's eyes.

Blink.

“Are you threatening me? You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna break off an extra large branch of mountain ash, wrap it in wolfsbane, roll it in mistletoe, and shove it up your freakin'-” Stiles was cut off by Scott.

The alpha pack is taken care of. Erica and Boyd are dead. Jackson and Isaac Have left. Stiles is terrified and has more than a few panic attacks. He holds onto Derek’s shoulder as Derek stares in horror at Boyd’s dead body. He starts showing up at the loft more and more. Sometimes he and Derek just sit, silently, each processing. Sometimes he can see Derek needed an outlet so he would pick a fight, his heart swelling as Derek would often sigh at the end, obviously more relaxed. Sometimes he would wake up in the bed, tucked in, and Derek set up on the couch. Even though he knew he had passed out on the couch while watching a movie. He would always bring Derek's pillow to his chest, but would never admit why.

Blink.

Scott held a lit flare in his hand as he stood in the middle of a large puddle of gasoline, tears running down his face, “It all started that night, the night I got bitten. Remember the way it was before that? You and me? We were nothing. We weren't popular. We weren't good at lacrosse. We weren't important. We were no one. Maybe I should just be no one again. No one at all.”

Stiles' hand shook in fear, but he shook his head, staring Scott in the face. Tears welled in his eyes seeing his brother like this. “Scott, just listen to me. You're not no one. Scott, you're my best friend, okay, and I need you. Scott, you're my brother. Alright, so,” He took a small, but purposeful step into the puddle as well, “if we're gonna do this, then I think you're just gonna have to take me with you then.”

Blink.

He wasn’t himself.

“Stiles, if you have it. I’ll do something.” Scott hugged him fiercely.

He couldn’t tell if he was awake or asleep. He wasn’t alone in his head. A bear trap. Pain. A game. Chess. Derek is the king. A message. An iron grip of darkness. He didn’t know what was real or fake. He woke up screaming. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t alone.

He threw Derek across the room without any thought. Both Derek and his father try to talk Chris Argent down, but his darkness jumps in excitement.

“SHOOT ME!”

Blink.

Scott had a katana through his stomach as Stiles, the real Stiles trapped in his head, could only watch as the fox demon tormented his brother. The only inkling that he was still there that he couldn’t help, even possessed, the real tears that ran down his face. His fingers fluttered over the blade’s handle tauntingly.

“You really have to learn, Scott. You really have to learn not to trust a fox. Hmm-mmm. Know why? 'Cause they're tricksters. They'll fool you. They'll fool everyone.”

Blink.

“You can kill the Oni. But me? Me? I’m a thousand years old! YOU CAN’T KILL ME!”

The stiles tied to his chair slumped as the energy from everything he just relieved finished going through him again all at once. He was shuddering and he knew he was mumbling nonsense.

Allison is dead and the present Stiles begged to take it back. To trade places. A litany of apologies fall from his lips. The police station. The hospital. He remembers. He hates himself.

Scott is in shambles. Stiles is left broken. He started to train with Deaton when his spark ignited after getting the ancient asshole out of him. Focuses on protecting his family.

His father already had him learn how to shoot a gun, but now he pushed his learning to proficiency and he started taking kickboxing lessons.

The older Stiles has cried and screamed for it to stop, he had already lived through this, why- why does he have to go through this a second time? Reliving his mistakes and losses. Feeling every trauma with as much power as when he actually lived through it. Wishing he could save his family. His pack. A wrecked sob almost drowns out the voices. Almost. His mind is listless and so close to breaking.

Stiles was looking at a slender man in a tie, “So you're asking me to tell you what I wouldn't not tell you?”

“First, I have no idea what you just said. Second, how about you just help me help you.”

“Well I don't know how to help you help me tell you something if I don't know it.”

Blink.

“Don’t you think you should tell me where they are? Shouldn’t one of you get to live?” The assassin had his gun pointed at Stiles' back.

He tried to bullshit an answer, but the assassin just moved his gun up to the back of his head, “I’m going to count to three and then I’m going to kill you.”

Stiles turns to face the man, “You think you can scare me?”

“No, I think I can kill you. I just thought the countdown would make it more exciting. So,” he moves his gun directly against Stiles’s forehead, “One,” Stiles still doesn’t say anything as his eyes well with tears and the assassin grits his teeth, “Two,” Stiles stares into the man’s eyes and knows this is it, this is how he dies, his body starts to shake and he has to closed his eyes.

A deafening bang goes off and blood coats Stiles’ face, but- but he isn’t dead. It’s not his blood.

More of his crazy life is laid bare, he graduates from high school and makes it into the FBI academy. Then Derek Hale is wanted by the FBI. He comes home.

Blink.

Derek is dead. Derek is- Stiles can’t breathe. There was so much blood and Derek tells him to go save Scott, but Stiles had to stop, to look at the man he- he- he can't finish that thought right now.

Stiles stopped again to turn back, he had to know. So he looks, truly looks at Derek's eyes and shows his searching to the wolf.

Stiles stomach flips, because there it was, clear as day. Derek Fucking Hale was lowering his walls for Stiles and his eyes told Stiles everything he had wanted to know.
Stiles took a step toward Derek, a desperate tugging telling him to be close to Derek.

Derek shook his head and told him to go, so Stiles, with a frustrated growl, turned on his heel and took off.

Blink.

Derek isn’t dead. Stiles can’t seem to process this. Life wasn’t this good to him. No way. He had to talk to him. Had to see him.

Stiles made his way into the loft to see no one around.

“Derek?”

“Stiles?” Derek appeared looking over the second floor railing, “You okay?” his eyes raked over the fidgeting man as if to see an injury of some sort.

“Oh, yeah! Totally fine!” Stiles breathed quickly, “I just had something I wanted to talk to you about, if you have time?”

Derek had relaxed as soon as he knew everything was okay, but his eyebrows raised in surprise and his hand clenched the iron railing. He didn’t say anything, just nodded and made his way down the spiral staircase to lean on the large table near the back. He looked expectantly at Stiles, waiting for him to continue.
Stiles couldn’t help but rub the back of his neck as he walked closer, his heart felt like it couldn’t decide on a proper rhythm and eyes were glued to Derek’s face.
They stood like that for a long moment, each staring at the other, before Stiles sucked in a hard breath.

“I’m an idiot.” he finally stated as his hand swung out in exasperation. This was not what he was planning to say at all and inwardly he smacked himself in the face.
Derek’s eyebrows now almost disappeared into his hairline.

“I have done so much research on werewolves and talked to Deaton so many times, but while I feel like I know things, when it comes to the practicality portion of the knowledge I still find I’m lacking.”

Derek’s eyebrows were now furrowed in confusion and it made Stiles huff in amusement. Still Derek waited patiently.

“I didn’t realize that you wouldn’t show any of the normal things werewolves show when they like someone. I never dreamed it- that I- that you might feel- and I tried to hide my feelings for so long- I saw you die. I thought-” Stiles took a shuddering breath, “I thought I lost you and I realized that I had to tell you- and then your face told me so much as it always does. Always has. I never realized.”
Stiles took another desperate step towards Derek, “I should have though. I should have known you wouldn’t display the usual signs or that you wouldn’t make the first move. I would have to be the one to do it. To see. It was your eyes and the way you hold your mouth, hell your entire body. I mean,” Derek looked apprehensive now, “I knew I felt something, but I never thought- never dreamed-.” his voice was barely above a whisper when trailed off and they were once again plunged into silence, but this one held a new weight to it.

A slow smile creeped onto Stiles face, “See, you never talk when it’s about something like this. I’m right in thinking you know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”
Derek didn’t say anything, but he could never hide anything from Stiles when Stiles looked at him like that, “I thought so. You feel it too.” The tiny clench in Stiles' voice was the only indication of how deeply affected he was at the moment. Derek was a statue, barely blinking, barely breathing.

“I remember, you know, when we were kids and you would come over. God! I remember how you would just sit and let me talk to you about things that you most definitely didn’t care about for hours.” Stiles huffed a small laugh, “Not much has changed in that regard.”

He saw Derek’s shoulders unclench as he relaxed slightly and Stiles took a closer step a little more confidently, “I am so sorry for being an idiot.”

“Stiles.” Derek’s desperate whisper had Stiles closing the distance to softly hold Derek’s face as Stiles stared in awe at the beautiful man in front of him. The man turned to stone underneath his touch and Stiles immediately let his hands fall away, but spoke with a soft smile still on his face, “We don’t have to touch. I can go as slow as you need. I just want a chance to prove myself to you.”

Derek looked at him with wide terrified eyes and a glimmer of something else burning low, “You have nothing to prove Stiles. You have always been it.”

Stiles released a shaky breath, “I want to shout from the rooftops right now. I never thought I had a chance.” Stiles’ smile was blinding.

Derek slowly brought his hands to Stiles face, a slight tremor to his fingers. Stiles' eyes slid closed as Derek's thumb softly brushed along his cheek. When he opened his eyes Derek was staring at him as if he couldn't believe he was touching him.

"I didn't give myself permission to-" Derek broke off begging Stiles to understand.

"I'm giving you permission. Like all the permission. Like top level clearance here. 007 clearance. No redacted files for you. You-"

"Stiles," Derek murmured an inch away from Stiles' face, "Shut up."

And then Derek Hale was kissing him. A swelling and low burning was overtaking his chest, but he just held onto Derek that much harder.

Stiles groaned as his back hit the large pillar behind him. Derek slid a thigh between Stiles' legs and moved to his neck.

"You taste so fucking good." Derek's growl vibrated against Stiles' neck, but it went straight to his dick.

Stiles' hands snaked up Derek's shirt, wrapping around to Derek's back. The wolf pressed into his hands, craving the skin to skin touch.

Derek's hands gripped Stiles' hips to grind into him as his lips began on the other side of Stiles' neck. Stiles immediately let his head fall to the side, fully submitting, without a question in the world.

"So good, submitting to your Alpha."

Stiles moaned, because that should not be as hot as it is. He rolled his hips and preened at the broken moan that fell from Derek's lips.

"Going to make you smell like me."

"Please." Stiles breathed right before he bit down on Derek's shoulder.

"Stiles." Derek spoke it like that was the only word he knew. Like everything from the world had been erased.

The swelling and burning had been building, but with this bite and Derek's prayer, it exploded. Stiles felt a spike of arousal shoot through him so hot he thought it might burn him from the inside out, but it was tempered by the sense of belonging right after it. Safe. Home. He was home.

"Wait. Wait." Derek's small voice stopped Stiles' movements immediately, even as he battled the 180 from blissed out to concern, a tight twisting in his chest, and he quickly raised his hands from Derek's body, "Too fast? Like I said nothing has to happen today. We can watch a movie, or cuddle, or we could just have a nap if it's been too much."

Derek looked pained as he turned quickly away, his hands shaking as they rubbed his chest, like he was feeling it too. “No, we can’t. I can’t. No matter how- how much I-” Derek trailed off.

“Why?” Stiles probed softly, not backing down, “I’m not going anywhere, Derek. We’ve been through too much to lie to each other. Please, Derek, I am here offering everything I have, everything I am, to you. I saw your face. I know you.”

“You don’t know anything! This shouldn’t happen. My wolf would never forgive me if I failed again.” Derek bit out, but Stiles didn’t seem to be fazed.

“Derek, look at me.” He gently turned Derek to look at him, but didn’t touch his face again as he wanted to, “You have been through so much and I am in awe of you. You deserve so much and I know I am nothing more than a gangly little human, but I can only say that I- I love you.”

The air seemed to be knocked out of Derek, his body shaking as he moved away from Stiles again as Stiles continued, “I love the little boy that would silently follow me around in my backyard as he held all the rocks I thought were pretty while I told him we would never be parted. I love the young man who I helped that night in the Police station covered in soot. I love the creepy SourWolf who told me and Scott we were trespassing. And I love the man who is standing before me. The survivor. The alpha. Don't you get it? Every part of you, whether you think it's good or bad, whether you think it's worthy or not, I love them all.”

Silence overtook them and after it became too much for him Stiles slowly and purposefully closed the distance between them again. Stiles ached to reach out for Derek’s hand, but controlled the impulse. A pain in his chest was rising and falling with each heartbeat.

“Derek, please say something. Or just nod. Or point. Or write. I can leave you to think and come back if need be. I want you to know this is real for me. That we are completely on your terms. That I’m not going anywhere. That you mean-”

“I don’t want you.” Derek spoke softly, but suddenly.

Stiles' nostrils flared as the air left him harshly through his nose, “What?”

“I. Don’t. Want. You.” Derek's teeth were clenched tightly and he seemed to be having to force the words from his throat.

Stiles audibly swallowed around his suddenly thick throat, pain slicing into his chest, “I don’t need to be a werewolf to know that’s a lie.” Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I thought- you’d be happy. Sure, I expected the initial freak out, but- but-”

Derek scoffed creully, “Happy about this? About you bringing up things that I never wanted to think about in the first place?”

Stiles wrapped his arms around his middle as he took a small step backwards. This seemed to infuriate Derek.
He started yelling about how even if Stiles didn't see him show sighs like a werewolf would, he had multiple times. Sniffing his hair when Stiles would pass out at his loft. Cooking for him.

He started ranting about all the stupidly dangerous things Stiles always wanted to be a part of. How it ripped Derek to pieces, seeing him after the Argents.

"Why would I want to bind myself to someone who is actively trying to get himself killed? To someone who tries to be a werewolf while refusing the bite. Who is just a dead man walking."

Stiles' eyes were blurred with tears, even as he shook his head, "I know you, Derek. You are scared and you feel like you don't deserve love, but you couldn't be more wrong."
As Stiles blinked Derek's angry face came into focus, but in those green eyes were swirls of terror. Derek's entire body reeked of desperation. For what, Stiles didn't know.

"I may have been unlucky in love," Derek's voice was cutting steel, "but did you ever think that maybe I saw what fate tied me to and wasn't interested in a gangly little boy who talked too much and rode the coattails of his best friend. Maybe I have fought against what the wolf wants because the man sees what you really are… pathetic."

Stiles' mind couldn't process everything Derek was saying. Stiles knew Derek didn't mean this. He knew. He did, but his lungs couldn't seem to remember how to breathe. He reached tentatively out and felt Derek shove him away, his back hitting the pillar. Derek didn't want him.

Stiles screamed as pain he couldn't imagine, that he didn't understand, gripped his body. His knees buckled and he caught himself against the wood floor with a magiced clawed hand. Claw marks appeared on the floor, both men ignored them. Void had come to try and ease the pain, but even he wasn't strong enough. Stiles clutched his chest, gasping for air. He lifted his face to take in Derek's pain filled eyes staring down at him. Stiles tears stung as they started to travel down his sensitive beard burned neck.

"Please." Stiles rasped, for what he wasn't sure.

"Why can't you let yourself be happy?" Stiles gasped as he huddled on the ground against the column, shaking.

“HAPPY? You think you could make me happy? What person wants to be destined to a boy years younger than him? I became restless and Paige- she- she was so sweet, I thought maybe she could distract me from wanting you. She's dead. Kate was older and made me feel special and a chance for a teenage hormone filled kid to believe he didn't have to wait for a scrawny middle schooler. Now my family is dead! Then you were there at the station and you knew exactly what I needed! Without words, with complete understanding. You kissed my forehead. I realized then that it should have always been you and I can never take any of it back. Don't you get it?! I look at you and I see every single one of my mistakes. You are my walking nightmare. How could I ever live with that? How could I-"

The older Stiles, tied to the chair, was rocking in his chair. Straining against his bindings. Wanting to run. To never hear what comes next ever again. Derek yelling his complete rejection in Stiles’ face, even as tears streamed from those damn green eyes. He didn’t need to remember how he had reached out for Derek one last time, only to be slapped away again.

He didn't need to remember how Derek had turned on his heel and gone back upstairs. Leaving Stiles shaking and in pain on the floor. The slamming door, a clear signal he was all alone.

While his younger self stumbled to his jeep shaking and crying, the older Stiles screamed out his agony from his chair. Shouting for Derek. Begging for him. It was too much. Just like before this was breaking him entirely.
Blink.

The car door shut and every head in the pack turned to him. Stiles’ mouth hung open as he just stood and watched Derek drive away. He left. Derek left him and everyone was staring at Stiles as if he held the answers.

His hands shook and his breathing came in rapid gasps.

“Stiles?” Lydia’s voice sounded far away.

“Scott!” Kira’s terrified voice rang out.

Blackness was creeping in on his vision and he felt it appear around his eyes. He hadn’t lost control since he first discovered there was darkness still left in him, but now he couldn’t remember his name.

Blink.

He was tied up in the loft and his entire pack was gathered around him, including his dad.

“Son?” His dad asked cautiously. He hated that he had made his dad scared.

He held back his tears and utter heartbreak from his father’s eyes. Stiles told his dad that he was fine, just had a slip and none of the pack contradicted him or mentioned Derek leaving. Stiles wasn’t normal after that, but he did a damn good job of faking it.

Stiles started working full time at the library and taking five courses online through Beacon Hills University. He managed to save up enough and financial aid came through where he could move out of his dad’s house and into a small one bedroom apartment. It was a piece of shit on the wrong side of the tracks, but he just needed to get away. If he stayed under his dad’s roof any longer Noah would notice the changes. Stiles’ found he was a good actor, but doing it 24/7… something was going to slip.

He was numb, but his friends kept coming to check on him. He hated it even though he knew he shouldn’t. It showed that he at least meant something to someone, but he hated the giant hole missing at his core. He hated that he would randomly lose his breath. Hated his hands shaking and chronic pain all over his body. Hated the asshole had this much control over his mental state and life.

This wasn’t normal, he slowly realized. There was something more to this. He started to research.

Lydia didn’t say anything when she let herself in with her key to see him pouring over research on supernatural connections. Simply taking the ancient grimoire from his hands as she began to read to him.

“Werewolves can create a connection with their partner of any breed, but the strongest of connections would be if the person was the werewolf's mate. The werewolf/wolves would recognize their mate by their smell. Their smell would be welcoming, enticing, and steadying to the wolf. Once a connection is discovered it is important for the wolf to spend time with their mate. Age is not a restriction, so this can happen at any time in a wolf’s life.” Stiles’ mind flashed back to small Derek content to follow him around the house, “Problems can arise when a wolf does something which either one or both parties perceive as an offense against their mate. This will be taken very seriously and cause problems with the connection. This can easily be repaired if both parties are on board. The worst case scenario is a-” she paused for a slight second, “The worst case scenario is a rejection of a mate in any way, especially if both parties have acknowledged their feelings. The separation will not only cause physical harm in the form of headaches, lack of appetite, and fatigue, but will also cause nightmares, depression, inability to focus, and anxiety. The pain seems to be irreversible on the subjects studied. Some rejected mates might shut down or become thoughtlessly reckless. In worst case scenarios, both, as this would make them impossibly unpredictable. From my experience with victims it is assured that whoever they were before the rejection they always come out changed. To date there is no known cure.”

It made sense the more he thought about it. Stiles had been so focused on his feelings and what Derek was feeling that he hadn't fully absorbed his words.

"Destined to."

"Fate."

Derek had known the entire time.

The silence was heavy as Lydia finished reading, what he himself had silently read through about ten times. He felt a spark of something rise in him. He was no longer numb, he was angry.

Instead of grabbing a spell book to curse the bastard like he wanted he grabbed a large bottle of rum and mixed Lydia and himself drinks. Both sitting in front of his tv, not speaking while mindless television danced before them.

Blink.

Theo came into the picture and Stiles didn’t get why Scott trusted him as soon as he did.

“Can you at least try to give him the benefit of the doubt?” Scott asked as Stiles was leaned over, working on Roscoe, since he wouldn’t start. Liam sat patiently in the front seat.

“I give people the benefit of the doubt. I have given a lot of benefit to a lot of people.”

“Like Derek?” Scott’s face screwed up into a soft grimace, knowing that his words were going to hurt his brother.

Stiles just let out a frustrated huff that sounded like it covered the beginning of a wheezed sob as he started working with more force.

“Why can’t you trust anyone?” Scott asked softly, shaking his head.

“Because you trust everyone!” Stiles slammed his fist into the hood of his jeep in pure frustration and anguish. Immediately the pain from his hand took his breath away and he heard Scott ask if he was okay.

“Yeah, fine.” the words were out of his mouth before his mind even processed the question, just a knee jerk reaction at this point.

Scott took his hand so gently as if he was afraid he would spook him and the pain lessened to a dull throb as black viens traveled up his brother’s arm.

Blink.

“You're the true Alpha! Guess what? All of us can't be true Alphas. Some of us have to make mistakes. Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes. Some of us are human!”

Blink.

“Stiles, I don’t think Scott wants to talk to you.”

Stiles just rambled as he tried to get in the truck but another shout of his name had him slamming the door closed to look over at Theo.

“Scott doesn’t want to talk to you, but I believe your dad does.” Stiles' heart dropped as he took in his dad’s license held in Theo’s hand.

“I never lied about why I came to Beacon Hills, I came for a pack.” Theo looked over at Stiles smiling, but Stiles didn’t like it.

“I came for the banshee. I came for the dark kitsune. I came for the beta with anger issues. I came for void Stiles. You have more blood on your hands than any of us. Let void Stiles out. Renounce Scott. Right now you are nothing, but a pathetic human. Humans have no place in my pack, but it also looks like Scott is kicking you out as well.” Theo made an exaggerated and sarcastic sad frown, Stiles was trying so hard to reign himself in, “So, I’ll tell you where your dad is, if you promise to not help Scott and let good ol’ Void come out and play.”

There was a split second where Stiles processed the last sentence and he felt the tight belt he kept around his anger and darkness snap. He punched the smug shit in his face, only to have Theo right himself laughing in glee, “There he is!” Theo praised loudly.

“It felt good, didn’t it?” Theo got into his space, only to be hit again by Stiles, knocking him completely to the ground. Stiles pinned him to the ground after he made another jab at Scott, but Theo reminded him that he couldn’t protect Scott and save his dad’s life. He would have to choose.

“Fuck. You.” Stiles bit out, intent on walking away, but a blow to the back of the head and everything went black.

Blink.

Stiles was panting as he strained against his chains. He wanted to call to his spark but the chains electrocuted him whenever he tried.

Theo watched with a disgusting amount of pleasure.

“You know a man can get some ideas, seeing you tied face down on a table, bent over.”

Stiles grit his teeth but didn’t say anything. Theo circled him and talked. That was the thing about Theo, he could give Stiles’ capacity to talk a run for its money.

Blink.

Stiles screamed so hard he felt his throat lining tear as Theo held the red hot iron brand steady against Stiles’ skin. Letting the iron bar clatter to the ground after he was satisfied with his work.

“You could have been something beautiful. I meant what I said about you being like my sister, in that she was smarter than everyone around her. Well, I watched her die and now I‘m going to watch you die. String you up nice and pretty for Scott to find.” Theo ran his hand across Stiles’ shuddering back, “We could have had something beautiful. I could smell your annoyance and distrust for me a mile away, but I could also smell something underneath all of that. Something that made you even more annoyed, but with yourself.”

He leaned down to smell at Stiles’ burning flesh, “I would’ve relished in the chance to fuck you, Stiles. I could smell you wanted it, even if you denied it. Lydia Martin, Derek Hale, and now me. My, my, seems the little human has a taste for the most dangerous of us,” Theo kissed and nibbled at Stiles’ non injured shoulder, “the monsters that go bump in the night.” Theo’s breath ghosting over Stiles sweat slicked skin made Stiles shiver and Theo smirk, “You know, I think we have time for you to finally have sex with at least one of your failed crushes.”
Stiles’ stomach dropped as Theo reached around him to unbutton his pants roughly. Stiles kicked out, causing Theo to laugh loudly.

“Don’t be like that.” Theo breathed before he smacked Stiles’ thankfully still cover ass hard enough stiles slid further up the table. Stiles lost his breath from pain shooting down his body from his shoulder at the sudden rough movement and stars popping into his vision.

Stiles heard Theo working on his belt, “I think," Theo's fingers ran down Stiles’ face, “it makes it even better knowing I’m the first. That I-”

An alpha’s roar covered the rest of Theo’s speech.

Blink.

“Does- does Der- does he know?” Stiles hated how he sounded out of it, days later. His throat still raspy, his burn still emitting heat through his bandage and his T-shirt, making his neck a little sweaty.

Lydia looked uncomfortable as she swallowed, “I called him. I thought he could help find you after Theo took you. Since- since you’re his-”

Stiles' eyes finally made it hers and he saw her shock at his ability to focus, cutting off her train of thought.

“He didn’t pick up.” She grimaced as she continued.

“I left him a voicemail.” she carried on quickly as he moved his head to once again stare at the far wall, zoning out, numb.

“I told him you had been taken and then I called again when we found you and you had that- the bur- well I called again and when I got his voicemail again I told him that he was a spineless dick.”

She seemed disappointed when this last bit didn’t get any reaction at all from Stiles.

Lydia didn’t try to stop him as he suddenly jerked to his feet, grabbing his red hoodie and keys as he rushed out the door.

Stiles drove to the Jungle, he needed a drink and a distraction.

As he threw back the last of his fifth drink he cursed Derek Hale so hard he hoped that the man could somehow feel it.

He drank four more tall glasses, before he made up his mind of what he needed to do.

He didn’t drive to his destination, but walked instead, letting his anger fuel his long trek. His dad's stern lecture about drunk driving playing in his head solidified his decision.

Stiles was drunk, scratch that- very drunk. He stumbled up into the old Hale house. He shouted at the old bones. Shouted his pain and anguish to the silent structure. This is where his world could've been different. No fire, no fucked up Derek. He ached for a taste of that world. A world where Derek didn’t run from him, from this. He went to the room he knew used to be Derek’s, not caring about the way the floorboards creaked as he crawled to the middle, and cried.

Blink.

The music thumped pleasantly into his buzzed brain at the jungle and when a set of strong arms wrapped around him he easily leaned into them. He went to the alley just as easily.

Stiles shoved the man up against the wall and kissed him deeply.

Stiles dropped to his knees easily too.

When he stood back up the man kissed him deeply only to pull back with a blissed out smirk on his face, “I want you inside me.”

“Shut up.” Stiles growled as he moved to bend the man over, hands on the side of a dumpster, and the man went eagerly. Stiles couldn’t handle hearing the man’s voice. It brought home what he was doing and he really couldn’t handle that.

Stiles redid his pants while the other man did the same.

“Holy shit.” The man leaned back against the brick wall out of breath, Stiles just turned and walked away.
He made it back to his apartment, closing the door behind him, before he fell to the floor sobbing.

Blink.

A lot of blurry faces. So. Many. Faces. The smell of the same alley and his partners’ sounds still seared into his brain. The sound of ripping foil and the now practiced ritual of sliding a condom on. Never any names. Never any more conversation than necessary to get consent. Still numb.

Blink.

He was coming out of the alley, once again leaving an out of breath man behind him, when Scott suddenly appeared before him.

“Hope you haven’t been here long, because if not then-”

He snorted at Scott’s disgusted face. The man made his way out of the alley, stopping to say, “Can I at least get a name for when I brag to my friends?”

“What the fuck?” Scott disgusted voice was sharp, “Get the fuck out of here!”

Stiles didn’t even spare the man a glance as he left.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asked, genuinely confused.

Scott stared at him for a long minute, “What are you doing here? This isn’t you!”

Stiles scoffed and went to move around him only to be stopped by a hand on his chest.

“Stiles, I know I messed up with Theo and you went through something awful. I am so sorry and I want to make it up to you. I want to get through this together, but you need to talk to me. Then Lydia is saying it’s not just what happened with Theo and-.” Scott looked desperate, “I don’t know what happened, but I know Derek-”

Scott was suddenly shoved against a wall, “You. Will. Forget. That. Name.”

Stiles pushed away from him and walked away not looking back.

Blink

The first bounty attack played in all it glory. The confusion. The terror.

Then the second.

Then the third.

"We need to get a better security system." Stiles panted as they threw the fifth body into the hole in the woods.

Blink.

There was a soft knock on his door. He jumped up from his workout routine. He had started it to help focus his mind. Fighting monsters had helped give him a nice foundation, but now he had defined muscle mass.

Opening the door he smiled at Lydia, turning to let her in. She came in and when he turned to face her after closing his door she jumped him. He answered immediately. Swallowing her desperate moans as he first made her cum against the wall, before falling into his soft sheets to see how many more climbs he could get her to do.

They were laying in bed, Lydia laying across his chest, and he waited patiently, knowing she would explain in her own time. His hand ran through her hair absentmindedly.

“I just used you and you are content to cuddle me?” Her small voice spoke against his throat. Stiles huffed out a laugh and kissed her temple, “Baby, we were using each other and if that is what you want from me then by all means come by anytime.”

Lydia giggled, but she was once again silent. He didn’t push her.

“Jackson is getting married.” Lydia’s voice was small and distant.

“Mazel Tov, when can I expect an invitation?”

Lydia huffed in frustration, “Not to me.”

“Then he’s an idiot.” Stiles deadpanned with no hesitation.

Lydia huffed again, but this time her frustration held a hint of fondness.

They were silent again, Stiles running his hands across her back in comfort.

“So do you always cuddle like this with the people you use to go emotionally numb? I’ve heard there is a nice list going. Or am I special?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Number one, I don’t keep a list-”

“Because you don’t know their names.” Lydia cut across him, smirking down at him, now propped up onto her elbow.

“As I was saying-” Stiles said loudly, “I don’t keep a list, because I’m not a complete scumbag. Number two, none of them made it back to my apartment, so no, they didn’t get cuddled. Number three, you will always be special Lydia, don’t ever question that.”

Her face softened and a fond smile overtook his features as her fingertips trailed down his face, “For the record your’s is an idiot as well.”

“Your’s?” Stiles raised his eyebrows at her wording.

She shrugged, “Scott has informed us that we aren’t to speak his name.”

Stiles huffed out a frustrated laugh.

They continued to meet up with each other. Both getting the comfort they needed and were denied. He didn’t mention when she wore the promise ring Jackson gave her all those years ago, what felt like a lifetime ago, needing that connection to her mate- no matter how faint. She didn’t mention when he would jerk awake with Derek’s name falling from his lips in a sobbed plea. His time where he usually went to the jungle now was spent with her. Both clinging to the other as they understood what the other was feeling. Taking every moan and gasp like medicine, each gentle hand hold or soft praise like a weak balm to their souls.

“You need to say good-bye to him. You deserve happiness. From one reject to another.” Lydia spoke as she comforted him from yet another nightmare, where Derek had kissed him- only to have black blood dribble out of his mouth. He had raised a shaking finger at Stiles, blaming him for killing him.

“What about you?” Stiles whispered into her hair, “You are content coming over here when we both know the person who has your heart is over five thousand miles away, getting married to someone else. You are content to be with me even while I’m left broken and lost by a man that drove off into the sunset, with a woman might I add. What about your happiness? You could try to find someone who could love you the way you should be.”

Lydia stroked his face lovingly, “This is the best us mate rejects can hope for. Jackson fully admitted I was his mate when I confronted him after you found that book, the bastard said he couldn’t handle the depth of it, the severity of consequences were too heavy against the reward. I guarantee you Derek ran for an equally stupid reason. We are the smartest people in Beacon Hills, Stiles, but we both were and are pulled away from reaching our full potential, both academically and romantically, by things out of our control. This, what we have going, mutual respect and a genuine friendship is the best we can hope for, because this is ours. We are in control of this. I love you and I know you love me, it may not be the love the universe wanted for us, but it’s ours. Something we have scraped from the mess other people left in their wake, not caring if we drowned or not. What we have is beautiful.”

Stiles kissed her slowly and when they pulled apart they both shared a small private smile, “Our numbers are getting smaller everyday,” Lydia spoke up again, “These bounties that someone put out on us will eventually catch up to us. The hunters seem endless. Our pack needs us at our best. I have made peace with my piece of shit, you need to do the same. It’s been over a year. It’s time to take that first step.”

Blink.

Stiles pulled the large door to the loft open.

The air was stale, but visions of the past bombarded Stiles’ brain. Pack meetings, researching, and planning. Stiles swallowed thickly as Derek’s rejection replayed in his mind. He stared at the table where Derek had leaned as Stiles handed over his heart, standing in almost the exact same spot where Derek crushed it.

He looked down at his claw marks stilled gouged into the floor and had to violently shake his head to clear it. His throat is already tight, trying to keep everything at bay.

He slowly walked up the stairs to where he knew Derek’s room was. The door was open and he shuffled over the threshold, sniffling loudly as Derek’s scent still seemed to be hanging in the air, even if Stiles knew this would be impossible- a year later.

Stiles turned his eyes to the closet and huffed weakly as he saw Derek left some of his clothes behind. He moved over to run his hand over them and froze when he saw Derek’s leather jacket was there. He couldn’t control his hand as he reached out to clutch the thick material.

He quickly ripped it from its hanger to slide it over his shirt. He realized as he stumbled over to Derek’s bed that he must be filling out as the jacket actually fit him. As his knees hit the large bed his body acted without his permission and laid down, holding the strongest smelling pillow to his chest.

He must have fallen asleep, because he was ripped back to consciousness by a strong sting to his neck. His eyes flashed open to take in Kate Argent smiling viciously down at him.

He couldn’t move and his head felt heavy from whatever she had injected him with. She rolled him onto the floor and quickly cut his shirt open, exposing his chest.
She slid on a pair of brass knuckles, “Now, let’s have a talk about Derek. Like, where he is.”

“Fuck off.” He huffed exasperatedly. The universe really did hate him.

She pouted at him and struck him repeatedly with the knuckles. Leaving him wheezing loudly.

“Once again, where is Derek Hale.”

“Did you say Abe Lincoln?” Stiles’ smirk was bloody, but he gave a short chuckle at his own joke. Surely she could laugh at the Mel Brooks reference.

“You are pathetic!” Kate hissed above him.

Stiles laughed bitterly, “Oh Pumpkin, you have no idea.”

Blink.

“If you don’t know where he is, tell me what car he was in and who he was with! My sources told me he wasn’t alone!”

“Go. To. Hell.”

Stiles had a bloody and broken face, Kate was breathing heavily.

“Fine, we will just have to try something else.”

She brandished a knife in front of his face then leaned down, over his abdomen.

He screamed in pain as Kate sliced into him.

Scott and Lydia bursting through the door an hour later gave Stiles the reprieve he needed to concentrate his spark onto moving again. He had felt the drug leaving his body, but this provided the cover he needed to focus.

He was up quick enough that he caught Kate as she flew back from Scott’s punch to the face. Stiles shoved her in the corner of the room where he proceeded to pounce on her. Yelling out as he kicked her repeatedly. Stomping down on her face with as much force as he could.

Suddenly he was being pulled away and Scott stood in between him and his prey. Scott looked like he was going to be sick.

“Stiles, stop.”

“Move.” Stiles growled and he knew his eyes were dark, his anger rolling off him in waves.

“No. As your alpha I will not let you mindlessly kill someone.”

“As my al- AS MY ALPHA?!” Stiles’ eyes were entirely black now, but his focus shifted back to Kate as she groaned in pain. Scott forced her up and shot Stiles a look of warning as he walked her out.

Stiles leaned heavily against Derek’s desk as he tried to control his darkness. He picked up Derek’s leather jacket and slid it on, covering the small cuts, bruises, and the new words adorning his body. They went well with Theo’s he thought bitterly.

He heard Scott warning Kate to leave town. He picked up Kate’s forgotten pair of brass knuckles as Scott came back into the room, Lydia looking from Scott to Stiles in apprehension.

“Stiles, what has gotten into you? I am disappointed, man. We have hunters after us! We have to lay low! We’ve been through this before. You can’t just kill someone-”

He was cut off by Stiles punching him hard in the face, with the help of the brass knuckles there was a satisfying crunch. Two more quick hits and Scott fell to the floor.
Scott looked up in shock at him, not daring to move. Hands up in surrender, breathing hard.

Stiles’ felt his face crumple and he turned to stalk, hunched over, out the door.

He bent over trying to catch his breath as he stumbled into the dark parking lot, taking deep lungfuls, the cool night air helping soothe his raw nerves that felt like they were jutting out of him. His sliced abdomen stinging unbearably. He had to lean against the front of his jeep as his legs almost gave out. He should send some magic to his wounds, but he needed the last bit of his stores to help him get home. He could hear the indistinct voices of the people he left in the loft.

He could tell they sounded upset and he wondered if he should just crawl away or not. He knew he shouldn’t- couldn’t- drive at the moment. He used his spark to mask his scent and heartbeat, preparing to limp his way home.

He froze when he heard Lydia’s voice, loud and clear through the open window, not even needing werewolf hearing. He was pretty sure the entire county could hear her.

“Fuck you, Scott! Instead of helping him through what is causing his changes, you tell him you don’t approve of how he’s handling things! You just pulled the alpha card on Stiles! Stiles! Maybe try actually thinking about how Stiles is feeling instead of how you feel about his actions. Try understanding why he feels broken.”

Stiles heard Scott say something only for Lydia to scoff loudly, “Scott he is still our Stiles. Stiles is strong, unbelievably so, but some things you can’t come back from!”

“I know about Theo!” Scott growled.

“And I have told you over and over again, it isn’t just Theo.”

“You mean Derek?” Scott sounded exasperated.

“Of course I mean Derek!” Lydia replied shrilly.

“I don’t know what happened! He won’t talk about it!”

“He and Derek were in love, you cretin!”

“What? Why would Derek leave then? Why would Stiles not just tell me that?”

“Maybe he would have if you hadn’t latched onto Theo right after, even while he told you repeatedly he didn’t trust him! Not to mention, how open do you think he could possibly want to be about Derek rejecting him? About his mate rejecting him? You have no idea what that feels like. Allison died sure, she was my best friend so I understand the pain from that, but she wasn’t your mate. You have your mate. Kira. He won’t even tell me everything Derek said or what happened! All I got was a drunken mumble of how Derek said he didn’t want him. For fucks sake, he can’t even say his name, Scott!”

“Mate! Holy shit they were mates?”

“Oh my god, McCall, how have you survived being this oblivious?”

“Still, I couldn’t just let him kill someone!”

“Why? Why Scott? Because you’re the true alpha and the epitome good? Huh? You could never understand why someone would want to kill another being? Fuck that! Kate Argent deserves to die. She manipulated and raped teenage boys in packs and used them to wipe out their entire family. Often leaving the boys alive, in a fate worse than death. To wallow in the thought that they themselves killed their packs, even if that wasn’t true. Oh! And just as a quick reminder she did this FIVE TIMES! She is a mass murder, Scott! That not enough? She and her father kidnapped and beat Erica, Boyd, and Stiles. Stiles so bad that his entire back is shredded to hell, almost nothing but scar tissue. Does your self righteous ass still need more?” Lydia didn’t give Scott a chance to answer, she truly was on a roll, “She broke Derek so badly that he felt like he didn’t deserve his mate and that he would tarnish him. The weird fucked up turn of events is that Stiles would be so much better with him here. Not to mention you literally just walked in on her torturing Stiles. The man you claim is your brother. The man that has saved you over and over and over again. Hell saved all of us. I mean, did you not see what she carved into his abdomen? I did! ‘MUTT FUCKER’, Scott, she carved ‘MUTT FUCKER’ into your brother’s skin and what did you do? You shielded her from his wrath. You protected HER! Then to top it off you have the audacity to say you’re disappointed in him. If Stiles hadn’t hit you, I would have.”

It was silent for a second until he heard Scott try to speak, only to be cut off by Lydia once again, “If this is what your leadership looks like, if this is how you take care of your pack, your family- I’m out! If this is how you Alpha,” her voice dripped with contemptuous sarcasm at the word, “by whining about it only to throw it in your broken brother’s face-,” she seemed like she couldn’t finish her thought because of her anger, only to take a deep breath and start in again, “And I guarantee you if you stand by this, Stiles is gone too. You won’t survive two months without him. Remember, we tried that already and we had to call him back. He gave up the FBI, his dream, for this! This absolute bullshit clusterfuck of a pack.”

Stiles heard the slamming of a door and Lydia came huffing out into the parking lot a moment later.

Her face softened immediately when she took in Stiles’ pale face and still bleeding abdomen, “Come on,” she helped him to her car, “We need to get you to Deaton’s.”

Blink.

Lydia kept shooting him concerned looks as he continued to silently stare ahead through her car’s windshield, driving them away from the vet office.

Stiles didn’t even know she was following him into his apartment until he heard her locking the door behind him.
He stood completely still and silent, standing in the middle of his living room- lost. Until a sudden spike in pain from his abdomen had him gasping in a breath and then he was done for. His knees gave out and he was releasing an earth shattering sob. Lydia was there in a blink of an eye and held him silently. Stiles was shaking and his sobs were deep, unrestrained and straight from the deepest depths of the soul.

Blink

Stiles sat on his couch staring at his phone in terror. Lydia already called him. Stiles knew this, but Stiles’ needed to do this. He knew what he needed to do, but his hands still shook as he finally hit the call button.

The small screen showed the name ‘SourWolf’ as it rang out, only for that voice, his voice to wash over him and then a small beep.

Stiles was quiet for a second before his wavering voice rushed out a small “Hey.”

He sniffed as tears welled in his eyes again, but he had a mission, so he started over, “Hey, I don’t know where you are or if you even still have this number or if you will even check it if you do. Lydia and Scott say your voice box is never full, so I’m holding out a little hope that this gets to you in time.”

A shuddering breath almost did him in, but he continued, “Kate- Kate Argent is looking for you. She found me- uh- she found me in your loft and didn’t like it that I wouldn’t tell her your number or what car you were driving when you- when you- or who you were with-” Stiles paused for a long moment, “I just called so you can be on the lookout. I know Scott called you about the bounties. I’m only up to a mil- bit insulting.” he huffed out a small manic laugh.

“I just- I wanted- needed to know if you were safe. So, I needed to call, to warn you myself. I don’t want anything to happen to you and I-” A small broken sob and a small gasped, “Fuck.” was it before he hung up.

Blink.

Stiles was in a plain black t-shirt, head shoved under Roscoe’s hood, when he felt a presence behind him. Spinning, he grabbed the person and shoved them against his jeep, a knife suddenly at their throat and his teeth bared.

“Whoa! It’s me. It’s me.”

Stiles blinked as his mind processed his dad’s words and he instantly removed the knife as he swallowed thickly. His dad was staring at him, hands still slightly held up in surrender.

“Sorry.” Stiles mumbled and he moved back to his work, not looking at his dad.

“Lydia called me.” Noah said softly, his keen eyes taking in every detail. Stiles felt raw under his dad’s knowing gaze.
When Stiles didn’t acknowledge this Noah continued casually, “Melissa called as well. Apparently Scott told her some things to worry her.”

Stiles sniffed loudly and paused in his work, but he still didn’t turn to look at his dad.

“Look, I just want to know if you are okay?”

Stiles laughed lightly, but there was no humor in it. He finally looked up at his dad, watching as Noah looked like whatever he saw there punched him in the gut. Noah’s face then morphed into one of determination.

“Lydia said I should ask you why you always wear a shirt and that I need to accept your decision if you decide you need to leave Scott’s pack behind and I needed to shoot Derek Hale if he ever steps foot in this town again.” His dad sucked in a breath, “Shit, sorry, she said I shouldn’t say his name.”

Stiles pursed his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Lydia certainly says a lot it seems.”

“Scott seems to think you are trying to kill yourself slowly and passively.”

“Scott is a fool.” Stiles’ voice was like steel.

Noah’s eyebrows shot up so high they almost reached his hairline and his mouth fell open as if he never expected in a million years for Stiles to take that stance on Scott.
He sighed deeply, “Stiles, when you told me about everything you promised no more secrets. Melissa seems to think that you aren’t keeping me in the dark out of malice, but because you are trying to protect me from something.”

Stiles stood straighter and stepped closer to his dad, “You are the most important thing in my life. Don’t-” his voice broke, “don’t you ever question that.”

His dad’s eyes got misty as he nodded to show he understood and when he spoke his voice was gruff from emotion, “Please son, let me take care of you once in a while.”

Stiles shuffled uneasily, looking down at his feet, his lips trembled, “It won't do you any good for me to tell you this. To show you.”

“Maybe not,” his dad conceded as he took a determined step toward his son, “but it might just help you.”

Stiles looked back up to his dad as his own eyes turned misty. Sighing deeply he looked around to see if there was anyone else in the back parking lot of his apartment. There wasn’t. His teeth clenched almost painfully and he kept clenching his fists anxiously. All the while his dad stood and waited patiently, knowing when to push and when to wait.

Stiles slowly slid his shirt over his head and took a long time folding it, laying it gently against his windshield. He had hoped that he took long enough, but when he faced his father again his dad’s face was still full of shock, fear, and pain.

“Derek? Shit, sorry- did he- did-” Noah breathed out, but he couldn’t finish his sentence.

Stiles laughed humorlessly again, “No,” he sighed deeply, “no, he didn’t do any of this. He was more- psychological.”

Noah looked confused and he didn’t try to wipe away his tears. He wasn’t ashamed to show how it hurt to see his son like this.

“He left us- left me.” Noah did a slight double take at the last part, his mouth falling open again.

Stiles looked out towards the woods, “I love him. I can’t even say loved- as in past tense, because it isn’t and according to Deaton it never will be. I knew De- he and I had something deeper, I guessed at what it was. Lydia agreed with me, but it wasn’t until I went to Deaton recently that he confirmed it. I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse to be honest.”

Noah just continued to stare at him so Stiles went on, “Werewolves have mates, apparently, and just like real wolves when you find and accept your mate- it’s for life. We found each other, but-” he looked back over to his dad, “De- Derek didn’t accept me. He ran, because he thought he didn’t deserve it or some bullshit. I’ve- I have tried to track him down. To just know if he is okay, but-” Stiles stopped talking as it became harder to breathe. He leaned down, looking back into Roscoe’s engine for something to do.

He felt a barely there touch against his raised ‘weakest link’ burn and he shut his eyes tightly and spoke in a just as tight voice, “Theo Raeken. Had a thing about how werewolves were superior to humans and didn’t think me, a mere human, should be considered pack. Wanted me to become full Void again and turn against Scott, he said he had you held captive, I still refused.”

A touch across the marks all along his back, “Gerard Argent. He wanted to know where Derek was, I wasn’t in the sharing mood.”

“These-” Noah’s voice almost gave out completely, “these are from a whip.”

Stiles just nodded.

“What’s under the bandage son?” Noah’s voice was brittle, as if he didn’t want to know, but he needed to.

“A message from Kate Argent.” Stiles stood back up to face his father completely.

“What message?” Noah breathed, and with a jolt in his gut Stiles realized his dad was scared. He was to the point of shaking and clammy sweat, but he continued on. He continued for Stiles.

“She found me at D-D-D-his loft. I just went to- I went because I- I miss him with every fiber of my being. Lydia said I needed to say goo- goodbye. His pillow still smelled like him in my twisted mind and I laid down without thinking. I was woken up by Kate-” Stiles sucked in a shuddering breath as images flooded his brain, “She was looking for Derek. I kept telling her I didn’t know where he was, that he had completely cut us out. She didn’t believe me and-” Stiles shook his head as he sent his dad a lost look, ”and I don’t know how she knew about the mate thing, but she did. She kept saying if I screamed loud enough, if I was in enough pain a mate would be able to feel it and they would come. I told her he wouldn’t. She became angry. She said if he wasn’t coming then she needed to leave a little incentive for Derek to track her down, because in her words as a human in a wolfpack I am about as useful as a sticky note, so she turned me into one. A walking message for Derek Hale.” Stiles was baring his teeth in anger again, ”Lydia and Scott came to check on me since they hadn’t heard from me in a while. They arrived right as she was carving through a third time, to make sure it left a scar. They distracted her enough that I could focus my spark of flushing the drugs in my system.” He sent his dad a hard and significant look, “I almost killed her. She was right there and then Scott stepped between us. He protected her long enough for her to limp her way out of the building and off to who knows where now.”

Noah’s eyes widened when a puzzle piece fell into place, “That’s why you and Scott aren’t talking.”

Stiles nodded, waiting for his dad to process everything.

“You really wish you had finished the job, don’t you?”

“With every fiber of my being.”

“Me too.” Noah’s face was sad as he said those words, “What was her message, Stiles?”

Stiles cursed his dad’s mind, as he had hoped he wouldn’t noticed he hadn’t answered him earlier by covering it with details of the disturbing event, “She carved ‘MUTT FUCKER’ into my skin so deep she almost nicked bowel.” he continued quickly, not looking to see how his dad processed that, “Deaton tried his best, but the wound was too deep and he said there seemed to have been runes on her weapon meant to encourage scaring, she was going after a beings that usually don’t after all.”

Blink.

Stiles was restocking books from the return slot onto their appropriate shelves when a loud throat clearing at the end of the row had him turning. Scott looked extremely uncomfortable and his big eyes were desperate. Stiles just turned to continue to return books from his cart.

“Wait! Please Stiles, please talk to me.”

Stiles stopped, but didn’t turn and didn’t speak.

“I’m an ass.” Scott spoke bluntly and it was the pure shock of Scott saying something like that that had a small huff of a laugh escaping Stiles’ mouth.

"Please," Scott breathed, "Talk to me. I promise to listen, just listen."

Blink.

“Listen, we can move into this house, it’s on the edge of town, with woods all behind it.” Stiles was showing a for sale flyer to Scott excitedly.

“This can be the pack den,” he continued in a rush, “I haven’t touched the money my mom left me in her will. You and Kira have saved up for a place. We split a lower house payment than all three of our rents, you can have woods to run, we can come up with all kinds of escape plans and hide weapons all over the house in case hunters show up. I can set up runes and ash lines for defense without the fear of people getting suspicious.”

“Our own pack den.” Scott whispered back in wonder, smiling.

Blink.

“You’re getting married?” Scott repeated hopefully.

Noah and Melissa beamed as they nodded.

Stiles tackled them into fierce hugs.

Blink.

His first day of teaching and all the joy he felt interacting with the kids. Kira and Scott getting married danced in front of the tired blank eyes of the Stiles trapped to the chair, he knew it wasn't done.

Lydia and Stiles, still holding onto each other, Lydia had been dealing with rejection syndrome longer and started talking about maybe dating again. Liam graduated highschool. They were finally finding a groove again.

Then the car accident. Stiles couldn’t breath from grief all over again. He shouted out as the doctor confirmed what Scott and he feared the most. Stiles sliding the wall as his body shook.

Kira held a sobbing Scott in her arms.

Stiles picked up a bottle of whiskey for the first time in years, but he didn’t fight Lydia when she softly pulled it from his grasp. She held him as his world fell down around him once again.

The Stiles tied to the chair let his head fall back in exhaustion. His eyes fluttered closed. He didn’t know how long he had been passed out for, but must have been too long, because Kate Argent was kicking his leg in frustration to bring him back.

His past self was walking through the crowded streets as the festival sounds surrounded him in a nostalgic blanket.

The visual difference was striking since his parent's death. He was even more lean with muscle. His eyes hard, a short beard sculpted to his face, and a lethal grace to his walk. He was now the Stiles he was today. Confident, cold, and deadly.

Scott and Kira were off who knows where and he was casually trying to find Liam. Stiles finally saw him pushed up against an alley wall, locking lips with a bombshell blonde.
Stiles smirked and was about to walk away when he saw the glint of metal at her waistband, his smirk turned murderous. He strode forward and pushed the girl off while forcing her further down the alleyway and out of sight from the crowd. A hand covering her mouth to avoid drawing attention to them.

“Stiles!” Liam called angrily as he trailed after them, “What the hell man!”

Stiles just shoved the girl’s face into the hard brick, not caring about her pained grunt. He didn’t answer Liam with words, instead just yanked the gun from its hiding spot and tossed it to Liam.

“Fuck.” Liam whispered as he stared down at the weapon with the hunter logo on the handle.

Liam shuffled as Stiles quickly searched her for any other weapons, finding none he turned her around to face them. She scowled at them, but Stiles just flashed his dark eyes at her and was happy to see a slight flinch.

“Stiles, I’m so-”

“Go. Find Scott and Kira. Go to Alamo.”

“What about you?” Liam whispered as he handed the gun back to Stiles.

“She isn’t the only honey pot walking around. I met mine earlier in the night, just thought it was a coincidence the guy looked so much like- well now I know that was by design. I am going to handle her and do the sweep. Go.”

Liam turned and ran without another word.

“He’s really pathetic.” the girl wheezed against the hand gripping her throat, holding her to the wall.

Stiles whipped his head to look at her and then he was smiling lethally as he pressed his entire body against hers, his mouth going to her ear, “so, how much did I just steal from you? How much is that boy worth to you?”

She didn’t say anything as he inhaled against her throat, her hidden fear filling his nostrils, as he pulled back to run her gun against her cheek she broke, “a mil for the beta, Four for the banshee and the kitsune, and five for the alpha and his pet.” she bit out at him, but he just tsked condescendingly.

“Oh sweetheart, no need to be a sore loser.”

“Who says I’ve lost? You think I came alone? We will kill your pack before your very eyes.” she hissed into his unimpressed face, but his eyes went completely black at the threat.

He gripped her face tightly as he slowly opened her mouth to slide her gun past her own plump and still kiss bruised lips, “No, no,” he softly chided, looking into her now terrified eyes, “we were having a friendly little chat, you didn’t need to take it to murder, but since we’re here now.”

His darkness sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine at her terrified whimper.

“Don’t worry little rabbit.” he whispered against the side of her face, “I’m not going to shoot you.”

He moved back a little and quickly put the gun in his waistband. The relieved sigh the girl let out was stopped short by Stiles snapping her neck, letting her drop amongst the trash around them at his feet.

“Shooting you would’ve been too loud.” Stiles bent down and dragged her behind the closest dumpster. Pocketing her cell phone, wallet, and any other bits from her pockets.
He was standing back up when his hair on the back of his neck stood up, within a blink he twirled around, holding the shadowed figure at gunpoint.

The figure just chuckled as he held his hand up in surrender, “Relax Stiles, it’s just me.”

Stiles didn’t lower his weapon even as shock flooded through his system.

The figure chuckled again, “Good to see you’ve accepted your vicious side, even if it makes me a little sad to see it. Still, don't you trust me?”

Stiles gritted his teeth, “I only trust my pack, you aren’t part of my pack. You’re part of his.”

The glint of teeth shone in the dark as the man smiled, “That’s why I come bearing gifts.”

A small bag hit Stiles’ feet, “The pocket contents of every other hunter I could find following you guys.”

Silence, as both waited for the other to make their move.

A noise further down the alley had Stiles quickly putting his new gun away and he picked up the peace offering. He started walking and didn’t bother to see if Peter was following him or not.

Once he climbed into his jeep, Peter was there buckling in, Stiles ignored him as he started the drive to their den.
Peter opened his mouth, but Stiles silenced him with a look as he hit Lydia’s number on his phone.

“Stiles! You can’t be serious! You said you were fine with me going on a date! If you still needed me then you should’ve said before.” her angry whispers brought a small smile to his lips.

“Lydia-”

“No! This man is seriously hot! And okay, you kiss better- are you happy now?- but this is the first date I’ve been on where I am actually looking for more. Can’t you understand that, babe?”

“Baby,” he whispered a little brokenly, “I would never stand in the way of that. One reject to another I am so proud of you for trying again. I can’t imagine- I don’t- look I just called because we had a run in with some Dick Chaneys.”

“What?” her voice tight with worry.

“We are okay. Kira, Scott, and Liam are going to the Alamo, but they are trying the honey pot method on us this time. I want to believe the best in people, but the night we are attacked just happens when you have your first date with that guy? If I lose you too I will literally lose my mind.”

“I know,” her voice soothed his mind, “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Stiles sighed in desperation, but smiled wolfishly at her next words, “I’ll pull out the ropes if I have to. I will be fine.”

“I know you will, Baby. Call if you need a body dump.”

“Who else would I call?” He could hear her smirk before the line went dead.

He knew Scott would have called Deaton. So he just pocketed his phone and leaned back into his seat. It wasn’t until a soft unsure voice spoke beside him did he remember Peter.

“My nephew really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

Stiles didn’t know what shocked him more, the words or that tone coming from Peter Hale. He didn’t answer, but Peter hummed as if that was an answer in itself.

When they pulled up to the house Stiles quickly ushered the man in and activated his defenses. He turned the tv to his security system and ten different night vision squares took over the 50 inch screen.

Peter just stood and watched him in almost awe as Stiles worked. He brought out six different laptops and set them up to download the cell phones contents. Texts, calls, pictures, contacts. Anything they could use to stay ahead.

Stiles then pulled a long range walkie out and clicked it on, clicking it to the appropriate channel.

“This is Fox calling in, please respond.”

“This is True, confirming.” Scott spoke needing the all clear phrase in order to know Stiles wasn’t making contact under duress.

“Luke Skywalker had it easy.”

Stiles heard Scott relieved breath, “Oh Thank God! Man, are you okay?”

“Yeah, you all make it?”

“No, Lydia isn't here. Deaton made it though.”

Stiles sighed in relief as he leaned onto the kitchen table by the laptops.

“I called Lydia, I guessed she wouldn’t pick up for you guys.”

“Yeah,” Kira laughed, “Of course she picked up for you!”

Stiles smiled, but then it fell as he once again looked over towards Peter, “Liam is up to a mil, Kira and Lydia are up to four mil, and Scott and I are up to five. I have seven cell phones to go through, I’m mining six right now. Hopefully I can get all the cell phones mined and the info downloaded before they catch on and shut their servers down. I am locked up for the night with some company.”

“What?!” Scott’s worried shout almost hurt his ears.

“An old friend dropped by to help out it seems.”

“Who?”

“Our first rogue.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I’ll call back in when I have more info.”

“Wait!” Scott shouted, “Are you okay? Mentally?” Scott asked quietly, like Peter couldn’t hear them. This was something they had started asking him, to check in after he had to kill or something that reminded him of Derek came up. Well he had to kill and Peter Hale was definitely something that reminded him of Derek. His thoughts were pulling his void side closer to the surface in protection.

“I don’t know.” even to his own ears he sounded lost, but he shut his face down, “I’m going quiet until I have something more. Ping if you need me.”

Stiles did another check on the den’s defenses, before he shrugged out of the leather jacket.

Stiles saw Peter run his eyes over his body and a sick impulsive side to him begged for Peter to take a picture and send it to Derek with the caption ‘You are an idiot’ underneath. Last time Peter saw Stiles he was still that lanky high schooler. Stiles sent him a challenging look.
“I’m making myself an omelette, you want one?” Stiles asked while he pulled out ingredients from the fridge.

“I’m absolutely starving.”

The way Peter said it- he sounded like he wasn’t just talking about food.

Stiles hummed thoughtfully as he started to cook, “So, you fuck Chris Argent yet?”

Peter laughed in surprise, “You always did have a mouth on you.”

“So did Chris.” Stiles shot back.

“Yes, I did.” Peter shrugged indifferently, but Stiles saw the tense line of his jaw, “but he- well he doesn’t want it to be permanent. Just here and there. Luckily he said the right things to keep it just far enough away from an outright rejection to keep the unclaimed bond calm.”

“He’s an idiot.” Stiles sprinkled in some pre-cut onions, but he didn’t miss the soft smile on Peter’s lips.

“So is my nephew, if that helps.”

“I don’t need help knowing he’s an idiot, but thank you. Will you grab us some drinks from the fridge?”

“You’re rejection syndrome isn’t getting better is it?.”

“You heard of that syndrome getting better?” Stiles asked bitterly.

“You deserved better.” Peter spoke softly. Stiles didn’t know how to deal with soft Peter, so he ignored him.
“I heard that I shouldn’t say his name.”

Stiles' eyes snapped to Peter’s with heat, “Oh yeah, and who have you been talking to?”

Peter just looked at him pityingly as Stiles plated their food.

“Why are you here?” Stiles’ voice was hoarse as he gently set the food down and they began to eat.

Peter hadn’t been lying about being starving as he was finished with his much larger meal, Stiles already so ingrained with wolves that he upped the portion size without thinking, as Stiles took his last couple bites.

A ding at a computer had Stiles shuffling over to plug in the next and last cell phone to begin its download. His eyebrows rose as he took in Peter cleaning the dishes.

“Thank you.” he whispered as he put away the ingredients and wiped down the counter, all the while Peter leaned against the island where they ate when he was done, watching him.

Only when Stiles turned to lean opposite of him did Peter speak.

“I came to check on you.”

Stiles snorted in disbelief, “Yeah, sure.”

“I did.” Peter huffed, “For all our differences and our history I have always liked you Stiles. I offered you the bite because I could see how powerful and smart you were. When I heard about Kate- I- I-”

“That was over three years ago.”

Stiles couldn’t look at him, even as Peter continued, “When I heard about Kate torturing you to try to find De- my very stupid nephew and then even after everything- you didn’t give her anything. Not a speck of information. I tried to come earlier to check on you, but there is a lot of heat on you. But I had to. Mainly because I knew chicken shit wouldn’t. No matter how much he might want to.”

Stiles scoffed again at the thought of Derek wanting to check on him, but that just made Peter send him another pitying look.

“I’ve been traveling a lot, but when I saw I had to come by here to go see that very same idiot, well I just couldn’t say no.”

Stiles’ head snapped up at that to stare in shock, “You're on your way to see him?”

Peter nodded, “My plane leaves tomorrow morning and I will see him in less than three hours after that. He’s picking me up.”

Stiles clenched his fists as anger and anguish overtook him. From Peter’s face he could smell their intensity. Smell. A flip switched in his brain. A lethal and dark smile overtook his face and Peter narrowed his eyes as he waited.

“Where is your moral compass pointing these days, Peter?”

Peter’s shock as Stiles' voice seductively rolled his name off his tongue fed the void and rejection fueled revenge idea.

“Oh?” Peter answered wolfishly as Stiles casually pushed off the counter, getting into the older man’s space.

“I could ask you to take me with you,” Stiles caged the wolf in with his arms, his hands resting on the counter on either side of Peter’s hips, “but we both know I won’t abandon my pack. Plus he would just run like always. I could ask you to give him a letter, but if he can ignore calls and voicemails, what the fuck would that do?”

“Nothing.” Peter whispered, his breath brushing lightly over Stiles’ face.

Stiles smiled leisurely, “Exactly! So what is a man to do? The thought of him and that woman have wrecked my brain over and over again. Him yelling in my face how I was nothing to him has plagued me for years.”

“So,” Peter rumbled, not backing down, “You’re saying he might need a little reminder of what he’s missing?”

“No,” Stiles ran his nose along Peter’s, “I’m saying he needs a little reminder of what he threw to the side." Stiles moved to gently run his lips along Peter's neck, "I’m saying he needs to smell me all over you. To have to picture what this smart mouth can do- to you. His packmate. His uncle.”

“That’s diabolical, even for me. Haven’t you heard that two wrongs don’t make a right?”

Stiles pulled back to look at Peter’s face again, “No, not diabolical. He didn’t want me. Can’t be mad when someone takes his chance.”

“You can afford to take that light stance, I will be the one that has to deal with the emotionally constipated ass when he smells us.”

Stiles smiled mischievously, “Oh, don’t be like that, Peter. I know you like seeing how far you can push him. This is exactly your speed and you know it. Knowing that you can flaunt the possession of something another wanted but for some stupid reason let slip through their fingers, all without having to utter a single word.”

Peter didn’t say anything as he took in the darkness seeping into the whites of Stiles’ eyes.

“God,” Peter finally spoke in awe, “I knew I should’ve bit you instead of Scott.”

Then his lips crashed into Stiles’ and a loud moan tore from the younger man’s throat in excitement.

Stiles put his everything into his movements. By the time he dropped to his knees Peter had glazed eyes and was breathing heavily. Stiles was going to rock Peter’s world so Peter couldn’t help but get lost in flashbacks for at least the next week, maybe longer- all while Derek would be there to witness it.

Peter threw his head back as Stiles went to work and as he came he whispered out Stiles name like a prayer.

It didn’t compare to when they made it to his bedroom. Peter on his back under Stiles panting, while the younger man wrecked him with consistent strong, violent thrusts. Peter’s claws leaving marks in the head board, coming with Stiles’ hand stroking him. Stiles coming a few thrusts later.

God bless his darkness for being able to keep up with werewolf stamina as Peter was able to come four more times that night on his dick. Each session being built up by searing kisses and fingers brushing over sensitive skin.

Stiles made no move to clean either of them up afterwards and Peter didn’t ask, knowing what he was doing. When Peter was utterly spent he stared up into Stiles’ face in awe. They slowly drifted off to sleep holding the other close as Peter whispered praise into Stiles’ hair.

Stiles woke from a nightmare about Derek’s rejection again, looking at the clock he saw it was six in the morning. Alamo lasted till noon the following day any time it was implemented as a ground rule and Peter’s flight wasn’t for another four hours.

He wiggled back into a comfortable position, but smiled softly at the small whine Peter made from his movements, still asleep.

Stiles kissed the man’s shoulders and neck as he easily lubed up a few fingers and proceeded to massage Peter’s already loose hole from the night before.

“You are going to be the death of me.” Peter rasped, but he just moved to make his ass more accessible. Stiles brought the man to a panting mess on his fingers before he slowly slid home.

This morning he just held Peter, while still on their sides to slowly push his dick into him. Stiles’ hands running over the werewolf’s torso in a tactile worship, his teeth scraping at Peter’s neck.

There was a fine sheet of sweat on their bodies and Peter started to shake from the slow pace building up. No words were spoken, only their moans and gasps filled the room. Stiles lifted one of Peter’s legs in order to go deeper, causing the man to throw his head back against Stiles’ shoulder, completely surrendering to him.

Peter came with a shuddered sob and Stiles with a muffled moan into the older man’s neck not too long after.

They passed out with Stiles still inside of him, but the next time Stiles woke up, Peter was gone. The only sign he had been there was a knief and a handwritten note telling him to stay safe. Stiles sat staring at the words with a small smile on his lips. He pushed away any guilt and grinned when he realized in just under an hour Peter will be in front of Derek. There would be no question about what happened.

With a sigh he gathered his dirty sheets to throw in the wash and went to check on the cellphones, now all completed. A beep on his cellphone had him quickly checking it. Another second and he was out the door, Lydia needed help hiding a body.

Lydia was shocked and slightly proud when he told her about what happened as they dug the hole, deep in the preserve. Lydia giggled when Stiles answered his phone with a smirk as Peter's number flashed on the screen.

"Couldn't get enough of me?"

Peter's laugh was a little raspy, "I don't think I ever will, to be honest."

Stiles flipped Lydia off as she raised her eyebrows at his soft smile.

"I don't think Chris would like you saying that."

"Well, he had his chance. I should be asking about our lovely Lydia."

Stiles sent her a look and she showed him a tinder conversation, "She has another date tonight, I don't think she's that threatened. Another point in her corner is that she is here and can jump me anytime she wants. I never know where you are."

Peter hummed, "That could change."

Stiles went quiet for a second, "What did you have in mind?"

"I would like to keep you in my life. Even if it's just phone calls."

"I would be open to that."

"Good. What are you up to?"

"Lydia and I are digging a hole."

"You're digging a hole?" Peter was amused.

"Yeah, six feet down."

Peter chuckled, "Please tell me you have Lyme."

Stiles scoffed, "Like this is our first hole!"

Peter chuckled and stiles couldn't help the full smile on his face, "How was your flight? What are you up to?"

"I just landed not too long ago. Now driving to the pack den."

"You're driving? I-"

"No, no, no, I let the peasants drive me around."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "It's good to be the king and all that?"

"I knew you'd understand."

"Who's driving you? Isaac?"

"No, no, no, some idiot relation of mine."

Stiles froze, Derek was driving while Peter talked about them. Now that he was paying attention Stiles could hear a low constant growling.

"I didn't realize the situation was as bad as it was until I showed up to see just how many hunters you have on your back. You have set up quite the security system though, you'll have to walk me through everything. Maybe I can help add something or send you some newer tech. I am glad you are okay and no one was hurt."

"Thank you, I never did thank you for taking care of the other hunters for me."

, deciding to follow the wolf's lead, "I have to say, I was disappointed when I woke up and you weren't there."

"I hated to leave you without saying goodbye, but you had finally gotten into a dreamless sleep. You really need to work on getting more sleep. I know it's a tall order. Defending Beacon Hills, the bounties, not to mention how terrible rejection syndrome is. I must admit wanting to scope you up and stealing you away to some place safe."

"You left me a knife," stiles softly reminded, choosing to go for serious instead of acknowledging Peter's directed tone when he mentioned rejection syndrome, "You wanted to protect me."

"Always. You need someone to look after you for a change."

Stiles didn't know how to take that, but luckily Peter kept talking.

"There's this mobile game where you can play chess with friends, you think you can keep up with me?"

Stiles chuckled, "I would be down for that, just don't cry too hard when I beat your ass."

"You can beat my ass whenever you want to."

Stiles heard a sudden rush of noises and then Peter's exasperated voice, though it sounded far away now, "That was childish."

Another rustling noise and then Peter was back, "Sorry about that, anyway, the app is called-"

The tied up Stiles was numbly trying to curl in on himself. He wasn’t upset he slept with Peter, but he hated himself for doing that to Derek. A shuddering breath left the exhausted spark, he wanted this to end. His fight truly gone.

Stiles was woken up by his computer. The zoom app ringing and blinking on the screen.

The name creeper wolf blinked rapidly.

Stiles quickly scrambled out of bed and clicked on the answer button.

"Peter?! Are you okay?"

"Well hello, Stiles."

Stiles was confused to see multiple people on the screen. Aiden had been the one to talk and Stiles realized he was looking at Stiles bare chest.

"Yeah," Isaac added, "no wonder Peter likes to talk to you so much."

"Peter, are you okay?" Stiles ignored Isaac and Aiden.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Peter answered, "We have a problem, though."

"Kate? Did she get to him?" Stiles asked, dread filling his body.

Peter's eyes widened, "No, no, Darling. Nothing like that, just a creature we need help with."

Stiles felt his shoulders relax, "Oh, okay, yeah, what do you need?"

Stiles began to help them with a ritual they found.

"Thank you." Peter smiled softly at him and Stiles thought he heard a growl off to the right, in fact he was sure of it as everyone, but Peter shuffled to the left slightly.

"Of course," Stiles yawned, "Call me again if you run into any problems."

"I will."

"Good," Stiles smiled sleepily, "Stay safe."

Blink.

Stiles was once again on zoom with Peter and part of their pack, going over some Latin they needed help with.

Stiles jumped up with his gun drawn when his bedroom door banged open.

"Stiles!"

Lydia looked crazed and could barely breathe.

"Lydia? What's wrong, Baby?"

He didn't get an answer.

"Lydia, I need to know what's happening here. Is this a banshee thing? A panic attack? Rejection syndrome? Hunters?"

She collapsed against his chest sobbing, "It hurts. Need you. Need pain."

Rejection syndrome it is then, Stiles thought sadly.

Stiles felt his heart clench, "Okay, but I need you to breathe," he ran his hand down her back soothingly, she arched up into the touch.

She sobbed harder and grabbed at his clothing desperately, but Stiles stopped her, "I know it hurts. I know it hurts so bad you feel like you are going insane, but remember we agreed, no pain until we discuss what exactly you need."

Lydia nodded jerkily, "I need you to bite me. I can't- I need- please."

Stiles rescued her lip from her teeth, "You want me to bite you?"

He needed clarification.

Lydia twitched as she nodded.

"Okay, okay," Stiles reassured her twitchy frame as he let his magically fangs descend and Lydia immediately gave him access to her neck.

His fingers worked their way into her hair, gripping tightly to keep her still so he wouldn't hurt her.

"Please."

Lydia screamed as his teeth broke her skin, but it turned into a hungry moan as her broken and jagged bond took the offered band-aid.

He caught her as her legs gave out and carried her over to his bed. Speaking soft praise the entire way. Shushing her gently as he tried to break from her hold, reassuring her he would be right back.

She was already losing consciousness when he came back with a washcloth to clean the blood from her neck.

"Why didn't he want me?" Lydia whimpered softly and it broke Stiles' heart.

He didn't answer her, because he didn't have an answer and she was already passing out. Helped by him softly running his fingers through her hair.

He sat on the bed and sighed heavily as he roughly rubbed his face.

He froze as he suddenly remembered their audience. He looked over to see all of their shocked faces and even what he thought was Derek's hand in frame in the back.

He ignored them in favor of getting up to tuck Lydia in.

When he sat back down, no one seemed to be able to break the silence.

"What was that?" Peter finally asked.

Stiles swallowed, "Rejection syndrome is painful, sometimes unbearably so. So pain is sometimes beneficial for physical pain to give our minds something else to latch onto. We found a lot of ways to cope. The bite is Lydia's favorite, as it provides pain, but also tricks the bond into calming down for a few days. Unfortunately for me Lydia doesn't have fangs and as I have the only non-venomous fangs this isn't an option for me. Luckily I have an Alpha that is more than understand when I want to spar a little harder than normal and the hunter bastards usually means I have a nice wound every few weeks to keep my mind a little more focused. The best is when Liam gets mad," A soft proud smirk takes over Stiles' face at this, "He is so strong and blind rage is very useful when I need pain."

No one seemed to be able to answer that. Peter and even Isaac looked like they hated to see his pain, while Aiden looked shocked. The hand he could barely see in frame was clenched to the point the person's knuckles were white. Part of Stiles was glad he was confronted with what his actions caused Stiles' life to become, another part of Stiles didn't want to cause the man pain. Stiles sighed before clicking on the scanned copy of the book on his screen.

"Now as far as that sentence right there. That means you are going to need blood."

More scenes played before him, but Stiles couldn’t concentrate, couldn't understand them. His body ached from phantom pain from past battles. His chest constricted from stress. This was too much.

He couldn’t remember his name. He couldn’t remember where he was. There was pain, but he couldn’t process what he was feeling. He didn’t know where the pain was coming from.

Someone was yelling. He felt someone touching him, but he couldn’t see. He couldn’t understand them as they talked to him.

Then he heard other yelling. Roars.

A lot of roars.

He was happy?

Why was he happy?

Was he happy?

That was the last thought that entered his brain as darkness took him.

Chapter Text

Something was shoved down his throat and a hand held onto his mouth so he couldn't spit it out.

"Was that necessary, Deaton?" Talia's worried and raw voice chided.

"He is going to need all the strength I can give him, I'm afraid.'

Stiles didn't understand.

Two realities playing out in front of him.

He felt so small and alone.

People were dancing in front of a scene of him wrecking a hospital room.

Was he not doing that?

He could feel the cold metal on his fingertips as he threw it, but he was watching it. He realized his arm wasn't moving, but his muscles still constricted and flinched as if he were. He felt the overwhelming sadness for- for-

"Can someone please figure out how to turn the picture off? Give the man some fucking privacy?!" Nick bellowed and Noah stood to his full height in front of his, obviously panicking, wife who was hurriedly looking over the machine.

"I think you might need to lower your voice and look for something useful to do. They are still looking through all the offices and labs for notes on this thing, maybe you go work on that instead of yelling at everyone."

Nick deflated, but stormed out of the room.

"It's okay," Noah spoke softly as he gently directed Claudia to look at him so he could wipe some of the moisture off her face, "Hey we are going to figure this out."

Claudia took a shuddering breath as she turned back to the machine, nodding. Noah ran a soothing hand down her back as he looked over to Stiles, "We are going to figure this out."

"Careful, careful." Deaton spoke as Laura shakily moved a long device around Stiles' head.

Deaton was looking between her progress and a small handheld screen, looking more and more pale.

"Well?" Laura asked desperately, keeping the look of hope on her face, even managing to keep a spark of it when Deaton grimaced.

"They are all lodged in deep, but I don't see any spikes or preventative measures on taking them out."

"That's good though, right?" Laura's voice didn't sound like herself, she sounded high pitched and desperate.

Her mother sighed where she was standing, hands on her hips, watching, "It definitely better than it could be, but these things are metal spikes going into his brain darling. If we take them out the wrong way or one small misstep as we take them out could cause even more damage."

"But Deaton knows how to get them out, right? Deaton? You're a doctor. You said- you- you're a doctor. This is what you do. You can get them out. You- you-" Laura stopped talking as Jordan seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

Stiles wanted to say something. Wanted to ask questions. How was he in two places at once? How was he in his cave, but also here?

Nothing would respond. He felt heavy.

"Found something! I found something." A red eyed, but smiling Scott ran into the room.

Claudia gasped as she spun and brought the boy into her arms to kiss his head quickly, "Oh thank God! Show me! Show me!"

"I don't know if it's helpful, but isn't this a drawing of the crystals and pattern?"

Claudia smiled as she quickly read, "Yes! Oh my god it is!"

Deaton ran over and she shoved the page into his hands.

"Well we now know why the magic wouldn't talk to you or help you." Deaton frowned, "It's Jennifer's magic."

"Well," Claudia took the page back, "we figured it was and with her at the helm the magic can't be anything we can't handle."

Claudia reread the page and then quickly turned to stride over to Stiles. She disappeared behind his back and he could faintly feel her fingers touching the things in his head.

Deaton shuffled around in his bag and then joined her.

"We need to act quickly, trick it so there isn't a surge of power from the crystals that could fry his brain."

"Yes," Claudia spoke dryly, "thank you for reminding me."

"What if we take away the crystals first?"

Isaac's small voice made everyone freeze. Stiles hadn't even noticed the boy sitting by his knee, hugging a whimpering black wolf.

"Take away the power and they just become pieces of metal in his head, right?'

It was quiet and Stiles could hear quiet whispering, but more confusingly he could hear Talia and Peter talking to him about training their children, but Talia was in two places in front of him? One was moving her lips while the other was staring at the black wolf by his feet, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"That should work." Claudia sounded cautious.

"We need the exact runes Claud, if we mess with them and-"

"My son's brain is goo! I get it! But it seems to me that is a possible outcome either way and I'm beginning to like Isaac's way of thinking."

"I didn't mea-"

Deaton was cut off by the door banging open again, but this time the black wolf jumped up and growled, his hair on his back standing on end.

Jackson was dragging the mousy witch from earlier with him, a unrecognizable murderous glare on his face.

"Found a witch trying to escape."

"That's her." Laura growled and took the terrified woman from the young wolf and practically dragged her over to Stiles, or as close as the black wolf would allow.

"You helped a mad woman and man do this to my pack."

The woman whimpered and a sob slipped out.

Laura growled viciously, "MY PACK!"

Laura suddenly twisted the witch so her neck was extended out toward the black wolf.

"So help me god if you don't help us get this off of him safely then I will let my brother rip you apart while you're still alive and I will rejoice in your screams."

As if on cue the black wolf rushed forward snapping viciously right at her neck, making the woman scream.

Laura picked her back up, "We understand each other?"

The witch twitched, "They made me. They were going to kill me if I didn't help. What was I supposed to do?"

"Die." Talia spoke up behind her daughter.

"If any more damage comes to him," Claudia spoke, "the wolves won't be your only problem."

The witch's eyes grew, "You're like me and you would see me die?"

"To save my son? I would skin you alive if I thought it would help."

The witch swallowed loudly, but nodded.

The pack moved in unison in front of the backdrop of him training the pack, watching her every move.

Stiles felt a weird static wash over his skin as the witch chanted, the movie going through his head flickered as she started to remove crystals. The room around him came into focus.

Where the fuck was he?

"There." The witch whispered, "You should be able to- to get those out now without any danger to the brain beside blunt trauma."

"How do we do that? How did you do it before?"

The witch looked uncomfortable, "They just yanked them out. We never had one this intact before. Either dead or mumbling or screaming. Never-"

"Run." Laura growled.

"What?" The witch squeaked.

"Run. Before I change my mind."

The woman scrambled out the door, Jackson growling after her as she ran past.

"We need to get him back to the office. I need better equipment."

Pain.

Awful pain.

Every hand on his body felt like they were breaking his bones. He wanted to scream. Nothing.

"He's in pain!" Isaac's panicked voice rang out, piercing his skull.

Blackness.

But not his warm Void coming to him.

He didn't like this blackness.

It was cold.

He was cold.

Chapter Text

He was at his house?

When did he- How did- what?

His head jerked and he was staring at Derek rejecting him.

A blink and he was having people cutting his clothes.

His body twitched and a long chain was falling out of his locker in front of the lacrosse team.

It was too much and he felt himself shoving at the confusion like an angry toddler who couldn’t figure out which shaped blocks went in which holes. He felt his heart squeeze tightly, was he still on that damn waterfall trip? Was he working so hard to find steady ground that his brain put himself pack in his cave? Should he poke at this? Was he going to wake up back in that ship?

He decided he didn’t care, if dying meant being in his cave, he would take it. He was too exhausted to care, but every fucking time he opened his eyes it was something different. A blink. It all happens in a blink.

Deaton and Claudia frantically move over him, talking in hushed voices.

His legs spasmed and Derek was trying to not smirk down at him as he ranted out a plan in the loft, those green eyes lighting with his amusement. Stiles couldn’t remember the next step of his plan as Derek turned his body toward him, giving Stiles his full attention.

A stuttering blink and he saw his mother slice her hand open, only to bring it to his chest- his mind flickered, like an old VHS tape and then settled. His eyes stopped flickering everywhere and the easing of the strain on his head forced a gasp out of his chest. He was fully in his home, he could feel wood against his fingertips, he was on his dining table he realized. Joy flowed through his veins, he knew where he was. His brain could process what his senses were trying to tell him.

“Mischief?” His mother’s hopeful voice made him instinctively try to look over at her, but found he couldn’t tell his eyes to listen to him. So he was getting information now, but he could do nothing with it?

Great.

He felt his body relax back into the table as Deaton gently began to work on his wounds.

Stiles shivered as he woke the next time, noticing he was now in his bed. Heavy breathing reached his ears.

Fur. That was all his eyes could see until the fur moved. A giant fucking wolf was curled up on him. Derek. The wolf snuffled at his face, Stiles could only blink.

“Derek,” Talia’s trembling voice came from out of his field of view, “He needs to sleep. Please shift back. Stiles will be so angry at you for neglecting yourself when he comes out of it.”

The wolf growled, his ears and Talia sighed, “I’m not going anywhere, Derek. No matter how long it takes or how aggressive your wolf acts towards me, I’m not leaving. You are not alone. Stiles is not alone.”

The wolf settled back into Stiles’ side with another growl.

Stiles couldn’t fight his eyes, only to be snapped back in what felt like a second, but from the look of the disheveled alpha standing at the bottom of his bed it must have been weeks.

That’s not what he focused on though. It was the tears rolling down his son’s face. Issac gripping his face begging him to snap out of it. The wolf at his side shifted to stand, slowly transforming into Stiles’ devastatingly beautiful mate. Derek gently pulled Issac away, bringing the sobbing boy to his chest.

Stiles wish beyond anything for a simple twitch of his finger, but it didn’t happen.

His body shook in pain, tears ran down his eyes, even before his eyes opened to his living room. He was once again on his dinning room table. Deaton periodically came into his eyesight as the man worked on his head. He could feel where the stakes were in his head.

No? A bandage. His head was a fucking toilet paper roll.

So no machine?

No machine. Just his cave.

The pain was too much, darkness was better.

“Derek, you don’t understand all his physical wounds are healed, but what he was put through was horrific and traumatic. He was forced to relive his every memory, everything that has happened to him in his entire 28 years."

Stiles was confused, he wasn’t lying down. He was sitting upright, his arms resting on blue cushioned armrests on heavy looking metal bars. His feet were sitting on something hard. A wheelchair his mind supplied. He was in a fucking wheelchair.

"I know," Derek growled as he paced back and forth, "I was there."

"Derek," Talia softly chided, "He's just trying to help."

"It's okay, Talia." Deaton assured compassionately before he continued, "From what Claudia said after she read Kate and Gerard's notes and studied the machine, every emotion felt real to him, as real as if he were going through it the first time. Every physical injury felt like it was happening again to him all over again. The mind and body can handle this over a span of years, but this was shoved within fifteen hours. No brain is that strong to bounce right back from something like that. Especially someone with a past like Stiles'."

"Are you telling me my son's mind is fractured?" Noah ground out thickly from somewhere behind Stiles.

Deaton looked pained as he looked to the Sheriff over Stiles' head, "His spark is still humming loudly, but as for his brain function, I truly can't say. The test showed activity, but with the nature of his torture it could be he is trapped in his own memories somehow. He shows no deliberate eye movement in accordance with what's happening now in front of him, forcing me to lean to this possibility."

Jordan gently placed a hand on Laura's shoulder when she tried to turn away to hide her tears to Stiles' right at his dining room table. Stiles realized even though they thought he wasn’t present they positioned him facing the gathered pack members, as if they expected him to jump in with a comment at any second.

"Also," Deaton voiced weakly as he moved closer to Talia, "We also have to consider that he may not find his way back. There may come a time where we may have to discuss quality of life."

Derek exploded into beta shift and Nick had to tackle his own son to the couch as the man screamed at Deaton. His words became more and more indiscernible as his sobs took over.

Nick didn't try to verbally calm his son and Deaton just looked guilty. Finally Derek quieted as he tried to curl in on himself, but his father didn't allow him to leave his arms. Instead holding his sobbing son tightly until he quieted.

The entire pack it seemed had gathered in his home for Deaton's update, but now were watching Stiles' mate barely hold back his wolf with pain-filled eyes.

Stiles saw Jackson bring a crying Lydia into his lap, even as he watched Derek's breakdown in slight horror. Scott hesitantly reaches for Kira's hand, only for her to meet it halfway.

Stiles hadn't failed this time. They were all here. Slowly coming together as they should. He could leave. He could end this misery.

Even as the thought wiggled into his brain, he knew he couldn't. His father's voice and Isaac's blank stare were enough to tell him if he left now it would cause problems.

Then there was Derek, who was breathing heavily, but quiet for the time being. Derek who begged Stiles to stay with him. Stiles once again struggled to break through to his family, but was met with nothing.

A new type of agony ripped through him, his brain had indeed fractured, no longer responding to him. He couldn't hear Void's maniacal laughter or his magic's soft soothing hum.

He didn't want to be awake for this anymore. Couldn't he get a fucking moment of peace, but as Derek went from quiet sobs to groans of pain, Stiles knew that wasn't coming any time soon.

He was still being tortured and this was ten times worse.

"I have no liquid soaked bandages or potion to shove down his throat for something like this. There is nothing I can do. I’m sorry. You can't force psychological healing.”

“Then-” Talia’s voice was fragile, “What are we supposed to do?”

Deaton sighed loudly, “Be there for him. He’s basically in a coma, even if his eyes are open and looking around, but they say people in a coma can hear you. Maybe not all the time, but if he could possibly hear you I would hold onto that. Let him know he’s not alone, that he is loved, and remind him why he needs to navigate his way back.”

“Thank you Deaton.” Nick’s soft voice sounded as the vet opened the door to leave.

Everyone was silent long after the soft click of the door signaled the man’s exit.

Issac stood and everyone turned to him, "I-I'm going to bed."

The other pups stood and followed after the dazed teen. No one was speaking, the sound of his door clicking shut loud in the stillness.

"We need to give Peter an update. He's at the den with-," Talia glanced at Derek, "Well he said he wanted to know."

Derek slowly extracted himself from his father's hold, "You need to go with mom, make sure she gets home safe."

Derek sounded exhausted and Nick opened his mouth to protest, but Derek shook his head, "I can't handle anyone else close to me getting hurt. Please, so I can focus, walk mom home."

"Would it-" Claudia's voice fell away slightly as Derek's eyes found her, "um- could we stay? I… I would like to be just across the hall in a manner of speaking…should you need me."

Derek walked slowly toward her and she fidgeted, but refused to move away. A surprised rush of air shooting from her lips when Derek gently brought her into a hug.

"Stay as long as you'd like." Derek felt her breath wobble past his ear before she hugged him with all her might.

"I would like to stay as well." Laura spoke, standing to stare at him, daring him to refuse, he simply nodded as he released Claudia.

"I think," Derek's voice was questioning and lost, "I should give Stiles a bath now that his bandages are off. I'm sure he's uncomfortable."

No one mentioned that there wasn't evidence Stiles was still aware of his surroundings, instead both women nodded, Claudia saying, "I can give you a hand, if you'd like one."

Derek looked to his mother-in-law and even if she seemed fine he could see her slightly too wide eyes and clenched jaw. She was terrified. She needed this almost as badly as himself and when he looked to his sister he could see the marks on her lips from worry, impressive she had managed to get ahead of her werewolf healing in this manner.

"I can manage, but if you both want to help I will accept extra hands."

"I can," Jordan spoke softly to the women, stopping their instantaneous step toward Derek, "grab some things for us while we are staying. Bring them over so we aren't too much of a burden as guests."

Derek was shaking his head, but Noah agreed to help with this task saying it would give him something to make himself feel useful.

Derek shrugged, his entire focus back on his Mate who blinked up at him, silent.

"Come on," Derek easily picked up the spark, "little fox. Time to get you ready for bed."

The women silently watched Derek maneuver Stiles to their bedroom, waiting for instructions. As soon as the door shut behind them Derek was directing them.

Claudia to the tub. Telling her the right temperature and to add the herb mixture in the medicine cabinet to the water.

Laura to their closet. Telling her to pick out the right clothes and then to the small stereo by the wall to put on Stiles' favorite playlist.

Stiles couldn't help the overwhelming love for his Wolf. Wanted so much to tell him. To let him know. Nothing.

Stiles felt tears fall down his face and Derek shook his head as he gently wiped them away, "No, no, none of that. I don't know if you are remembering something or if you are here right now, but none of that."

Stiles saw Laura reach over to grab Claudia's hand.

Derek cleared his throat, seeming to take Deaton’s recommendation to talk to him very seriously, "My wolf is losing his shit right now," Derek lowered his voice as it broke, "so why don't we make a deal? We can take turns losing our shit. Deal?"

Stiles merely blinked.

Derek stripped his mate and tossed the dirty clothes in the hamper, before he gently lowered him into the water.

He thanked the ladies for the help and commended them that everything was perfect.

Both women took a seat on the end of the bed to silently add their support, watching in empathy and slight curiosity as Derek began talking, almost as if he had forgotten they were there.

"I'm sure that feels much better." Derek was using a wet washcloth to gently scrub Stiles' dirty skin.

"I even added that muscle relaxer mix you always would grumble about me not using after training when I should have."

Laura silently reached over to hold Claudia's trembling hand again. Taking in the way Derek softly smiled into Stiles' face and the thought behind each movement he made.

After the lights were out and Derek climbed into bed beside Stiles he hesitantly took Stiles' hand in his.

"I don't know how'd you feel about all these people staying in our den, but they are all here because they love you Stiles. They want you to find your way back. They love you, Stiles. I wish- god I wish you knew how much everyone loves you. How much I love you. Please find your way back to me. Nothing has changed for me, if anything seeing your life has made me love you more. Please. Come back."

The next time Stiles woke up it was to Derek standing over him while he moved Stiles legs this way and that. Non-stop talking to Stiles. Explaining what stretch they were doing. Talking about how Derek was going to have to go back to work tomorrow. How Stiles was loved.

Stiles could only blink.

Stiles couldn't process much, but remembered vaguely that Derek mentioned Stiles’ mother was going to watch him that day and he'd be back later. Stiles could remember his mother sitting next to him, talking, but he couldn't remember any of it.

Stiles was gently put into his wheelchair and Claudia sat down on the couch beside him most of the day. Talking about absolute nonsense before opening a book to read to him. He didn’t know how long that went on before she turned the tv on so she could go into the kitchen to start on dinner.

Issac came in the door and Stiles heard Claudia greet him from the kitchen. Issac smiled in response as he closed the door and Cora sent a small greeting her way.

Then Issac was walking toward Stiles like that was the most normal thing to do and sitting on the couch closest to Stiles' wheelchair.

Cora stared after him in shock and looked so uncomfortable that Stiles almost wished he could laugh, just to make her faint.

"Hey," Issac casually said and Stiles realized Isaac was talking to him, "Derek has a staff meeting so he's going to be an hour or so late coming home."

Issac looked to Stiles almost as if he expected Stiles to simply reply this was okay and get up.

Cora looked like her heart broke for her boyfriend and Stiles couldn't help agreeing with her. God, he wished he could hug this sarcastic twit that was one of the nicest kids Stiles had ever met.

Issac looked away and started pulling things out of his bookbag, "Oh," Issac carried on unperturbed, "I tried that math trick you taught me on a test last week and look!"

Issac held up a test with a B firmly written at the top in red ink and a scribble of 'good job!' right next to it. His smile was so genuine that Stiles felt love for his pup explode inside him.

Cora licked her lips before she hesitantly walked forward to set up on the floor by the coffee table and pulled out her homework, following his example she too gave him a small greeting.

The next day Stiles wanted to sing from the treetops when a soft soothing hum met his core. His Spark! He tried to reach out to its searching vibrations in his mind, but his happiness fell when his mind wouldn’t let him answer his old friend.

He tried to grab onto his emotions, reminding himself that this was a good thing. It was a step, albeit small, in the right direction. His dad smiled down at him today, a mischievous look to his eye that Stiles hadn’t seen there in weeks.

“I know if you are in there right now that you must be losing your mind, no pun intended, out of boredom. So,” Noah held up several files, “I brought my most interesting open cases to go over with you.”

For the rest of the day his dad laid out pictures on the table in front of him, explaining the situations and going so far as to talking out his thoughts with Stiles. At one point even saying, “No, you’re right, the body does look staged.”

Stiles wanted to hug his father, it was one of the most enjoyable days he had trapped in his head.

He gave an involuntary twitch as he felt his wards alert him to someone crossing his boundaries dutifully, even as he felt his magic's desperate plea for an answer. He tried, but couldn't remember how to give it that reassurance. He felt it whine and curl around his chest, shifting uneasily.

Adding to his good day, all of his students came piling into his den, greeting Noah jovially.

"Can we steal him?" Scott asked, even though he was already wheeling Stiles near the living room, Stiles thought he heard his dad chuckle quietly.

“Okay Stiles,” Lydia huffed as she opened a notebook, “I officially can’t figure out this Latin phrase.”

Chapter Text

Deaton's soft touch had Stiles' eyes opening and even though he couldn't control his eyes to look up at him, Stiles still saw the small smile cross the man's lips.

"I'm sorry to wake you." Deaton's voice was as soft as his touch, "Derek said you slept right through this morning's exercise."

Deaton bent down to fiddle with something and Stiles realized it was an IV, he would recognize that slight pressure and pull anywhere.

"Rest is the best thing for you right now, so nothing to worry about. Now," Deaton spoke as if Stiles was merely a patient coming in for a regular appointment, "this IV is going to help calm the neurons in your brain. I would say you just tell me if anything feels wrong, but as you are a little under the weather, I will keep a sharp eye on you."

A little under the weather?

Where was the Deaton talking about quality of life?

Where was the Deaton saying there was nothing else he could do?

Then it hit him. Deaton waited until it was his turn to watch him to try this. The pack didn't know, because Deaton was the pack emissary through and through. He would protect them by showing them the worst possible outcome, preparing them for it. Then try what he can in secret, as to not get the pack's hopes up. Stiles knew just how detrimental cutting down one's last hope could be.

A new warmth spread through Stiles for the older man that never wiggled in his heart for the one from his universe. He wanted nothing more than to focus his eyes onto the man, but all he could manage was to blink.

Then he could feel the cold of the IV fluid hit his vein and he focused on that feeling. His magic uncurled itself to sniff at the substance making its way through him, but after a second it laid its head back down not sensing any danger.

Suddenly it hit his brain and like a warm blanket slotted over him and he felt muscles he didn't know were tense relax.

Deaton's smile was blinding as he patted Stiles' shoulder, "I bet that feels much better, right?"

Stiles felt his lips twitch and Deaton's eyes widened, "Did- are you-," suddenly Deaton gripped Stiles' shoulders almost painfully, his eyes wide in unbridled hope, "I got you, we are going to fix this, I promise."

Stiles just blinked. The doctor's smile became gentler as Stiles eyelids became heavy again.

 Stiles' eyes snapped open as an angry looking Derek stormed into the den, but he wasn't by himself. An uncharacteristically shifty Peter Hale followed him in.

"Everything okay here?" Noah's voice turned to his stern sheriff tone as he stood from the couch, his arms crossing, as he moved subtly in front of his son.

"Yeah," Derek grumbled, even as his face softened, "sorry I was late, I know you need to head in for your night shift."

Noah shrugged, even as his head turned to take in the two wolves, "Okay," he said slowly, "well he's been sleeping most of the day so don't stress him out."

Derek nodded as Noah passed him, the older man slapping Derek's shoulder affectionately before leaving.

It was silent and Peter for some reason couldn't look at Stiles, in fact this was the first time Stiles remembered Peter coming around since he woke up in his den. Hurt laced through Stiles' chest.

"Hey little fox," Stiles' focus went to his mate that was crouched in front of him, a small smile on his face, "you give your dad hell today?"

Stiles wanted to reach out and caress that now bearded face. Almost reading his mind Derek lifted one of his hands to his cheek, leaning into it, his eyes closed.

Peter shuffling still in the doorway had Derek sighing and kissing Stiles' palm, before laying it back in Stiles' lap. Derek stood to walk out of Stiles' view toward the kitchen, "What do you want, Peter."

"I just was thinking," Peter was ringing his hands in a very unlike Peter way, "I have experience with an illness taking away a loved one, so if you wanted to talk I'm he-"

"He's not dying." Derek's hard growl stopped Peter short and the older man held up his hands in a placating way. Derek came into view as he stepped slightly in front of Stiles as if Peter might snatch him away. The thought was absurd, but Stiles knew Derek's wolf must be at its limit lately.

"I know the circumstances are different," Peter said quickly, "I just know what it feels like to feel helpless and-"

"Shouldn't you be with your mate?"

Peter's temper flared to life, "Look I'm just trying to help! If this is you being pissed that he slept with the other me then-"

Derek scoffed loudly, "I don't have a problem with any of the actions I saw in his memories."

Peter seemed to deflate somewhat, "I'm just trying to help."

Derek deflated as well, "I know"

"I care about him too." Peter looked down at his fidgeting fingers.

Derek sank into the sofa to the left of Stiles' wheelchair, "I know."

Peter hesitantly took a step forward and when that didn't elicit a response he slowly made his way to the other side of the couch to sit down. Glancing to Derek to see if this was acceptable. It seemed that Stiles wasn't the only one to note how raw Derek's wolf was.

Maybe it was a second later or a year later, Stiles didn't know, but finally he saw Peter relax back into the couch and sit silently with his nephew.

The scene so much like when Peter first started visiting him at Deaton's that a gouging longing ripped him to pieces.

 Stiles let his eyes close, he didn't want to confront the hurt he was causing anymore.

Deaton woke him next with a sting of needle in his hand this time to give him more IVs. Deaton was talking about magical theroy, but on the second bag Stiles lost all focus as a pressure started to build in his chest and Stiles felt something snap into place.

Stiles almost cried when he heard that oh so familiar raspy voice. A voice like smoke drifting into his brain, not yet powerful enough to talk as he had before.

"Void." Stiles' brain screamed out. His magic hopped around in celebration, the vibrations shooting up his arms.

Stiles saw that sharp smile from his old guardian and as he eagerly accepted him back into the back of his brain he got the mental image of Void resting his forehead against Stiles'.

"I thought I lost you Little Fox." The whisper made Stiles' heart clench and he sent his despair and apologies to his friend, but Void hushed him, telling him not to waste his strength.

In his chest his spark gently pawed at him, testing to see if he too could reach Stiles yet and stiles focused on him happily. Feeling his spark dart around his chest in an official greeting. Stiles' breathing picked up as for the first time in who know how long he felt whole. He felt he had a chance. He wanted to shout to Deaton. To thank him. How could he ever repay the man?

Stiles felt a few tears fall down his cheeks and just as quickly Deaton was there wiping them away, whispering comforting words.

Claudia took over after Deaton left that day and from the moment she walked in she was different. It says a mom always knows, but Stiles had never experienced it to this extent. She sat on the coffee table in front of his wheel chair with a determined look set on her face and expectant eyes, like she knew with all her heart that he was there. Stiles blinked at her.

"I told you that all that mattered is that you came back to me. I want you to know I know you are trying. I know you are trying because you are my little survivor. I know you are exhausted on so many levels it has to be daunting, but you listen here. I know you're in there. Derek knows you're in there. Fuck everything else Stiles. You are a survivor. Not were- are. You always come back to the people you love. It's been four months, Baby. You need you to continue to fight. You- you need to come home." Claudia's voice broke and she suddenly slid off the coffee table to kneel before him, shaking hands taking his.

"Please come home."

Months.

He had been like this for months.

His brain rebelled at this information. It sent him into unconsciousness. 

Deaton once again woke him up, but he was kneeled in front of him this time. A look of pure concentration on his face as he stuck him in the arm.

This time the bond with Derek snapped back into his brain. He actually managed to gasp and Deaton smiled at him.

"That's it! Come back to us!"

Stiles managed to twitch his hand wanting to express his gratitude, but Deaton saw it and tears actually started running down his face.

"I told you, Stiles. We are going to fix this and I am going to be here every step of the way."

Stiles swallowed thickly at the man's words, but the happy smile he had as he sat and looked at Stiles in such pride hurt to look at.

Still it was their secret Stiles noticed. Deaton never mentioned it and this only took place during his babysitting shift.

Stiles could feel Derek now and he relished in it. He could tell Derek was at school and he could feel his small pride when a student answered a question correctly, but the base layer of the bond was heavy and wilted. His mate was suffering. Stiles didn't know if his mate could feel his weak side of the bond coming back to life.

Stiles silently and as calmly as he could sent comfort through the bond. He knew he was successful when he had sent enough to see the red raw edges turn into a soft pink. He didn't have energy for anything else, but he still felt good he could do something for his Wolf.

Weeks passed and Stiles focused on trying to send a message to Derek through the bond, so far he had been unsuccessful. 

"I need to take a shower, I'll be right back." Derek murmured into Stiles' temple when he leaned down to kiss his forehead.

Stiles clenched his eyes shut as his mate disappeared into their bedroom and he heard the water turn on.

Stiles could feel the weary exhaustion pouring off Derek, but for the first time in 7 months he felt something else from the man.

He could feel Derek's arousal and could feel it climbing through the bond and knew his mate was in the shower touching himself.

Stiles' hand twitched with need. He wanted to be the one touching Derek. He would never take for granted his ability to touch or speak to his mate again.

He tried to flip his eyes to the door and his heart skipped a beat when he could control it. He tried for his legs or mouth, but nothing.

He exhaled loudly with frustration as he felt Derek finish that climb. Then his heart shattered at the overwhelming guilt pouring off Derek.

When Derek came back out he couldn't seem to make eye contact with Stiles and Stiles wanted to scream that it was okay. That he did nothing wrong.

But all he fucking could do was blink.

Stiles was pulled close to Derek's chest that night in bed and he hated when he felt Derek's tears. Stiles sent love through the bond with all his mind, ignoring Void's concern that he would hurt the fragile thing. 

Derek had him laying on the couch, head in his lap, when Stiles twitched as his spark alerted to several people crossing the bonds. Stiles didn't know if Derek heard them or had noticed Stiles' jerk, but he sighed as he gently moved Stiles back to his wheel chair, smoothing Stiles' hair as there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Derek called over his shoulder, standing to turn toward the door, only to freeze. Stiles was confused as it was just his mother and uncle until the third person came into view.

"Get out of my house." Derek growled lethally.

Talia scratched at her temple in awkwardness as everyone stepped back from her son, besides herself, "As I said, Derek is going to be the biggest obstacle to you joining our pack."

"Derek-" Peter started, pleading, but Derek cut him off with a growl, not taking his eyes off Chris Argent.

Chris couldn't seem to take his eyes off Stiles' blank face, the scars on his head, and his gaunt frame from his liquid nutrient diet. Shock and something else dancing in his eyes. Stiles guessed from this that no one was talking to the man about pack business yet except Peter and Peter wouldn't want to shed light on the full destruction of Stiles' psyche onto his mate.

Derek noticed, his eyes narrowing as he had no problem shoving Stiles' condition into the hunter's face "Admiring your handiwork?"

Chris didn't look away from Stiles as he opened and closed his mouth multiple times.

"Chris didn't do that to Stiles." Peter hissed.

Derek laughed, but it wasn't happy, it wasn't even sad, it was sadistic and cruel. It hurt Stiles to hear it and Peter frowned at the sound.

"Chris is my Mate. He helped us. Stiles trusted him. He's a good man, Derek."

"He's a coward." Derek said loudly looking at Chris, who finally looked back.

"Y-" Peter started but was cut off by Talia, "You got your say Peter. As an inner circle member Derek has just as much right to voice his opinion as you do. I told you both you better be ready for the emotions from the pack members, you said you were. We haven't even reached the children yet, so," Talia pursed her lips, "deal with it "

Peter swallowed and his eyes screamed for Derek to understand, Derek growled, his eyes glowing.

"Your 'good man' could have killed his sister and Father himself. He could have stopped it as soon as he knew the truth. He could have come into the room and as they were distracted he could have shot them and the guards and set us free. Or if he is an even bigger coward than I thought he could have subtly let us go and we could have killed them. There were boosters there and without him putting the chains back onto MY mate Stiles would have gained his spark back. Stiles could've taken out ALL of them. But no, he forced Stiles to- to get metal probes shoved into his skull."

"Stiles-" Chris started hesitantly, "agreed-"

Derek cut him off sharply, "Stiles had been beaten and tortured for days. He was not in the right mind to agree to shit."

"I didn't want to cause any more blood shed."

Derek growled and surged forward, only to be restrained by Talia and blocked by Peter, but through their shoulders his glowing eyes glared at Chris, "Because it was human blood? Huh? Let the dogs do your job for you! Let my family risk their lives, fight their way through the very hunters you claim to want to save, letting my pack bleed instead, right? Look at his head for fuck sake! Your recommended torture did that to him. No matter what you said to Stiles before you left in no way prepared him for the hell he went through."

"I- I didn't- all the other test subjects had been wolves. I didn't know they had to stick things into his brain- there were no scars to know- I- I am so sorry." Christ said this last bit toward Stiles.

Derek tried to shove against his family again, "So you told your family to subject my mate to a torture you didn't fully understand? You just knew that it had killed the wolves or made them into a vegetable, huh? So you told them to do it to a human? If you came here looking for me to accept your pitiful excuses and even worse apology then you are even more despicable than I thought. No. Your negligence and cowardice are to blame for my- my mate's condition."

Derek's entire form was shaking, his eyes and nails kept wolfing out, "It shouldn't be mine or anyone else approval you are looking for. It should be Stiles'."

Derek shoved off of his family and turned to look at Stiles, his face sad and lost, but searching, as if he hoped Stiles could tell him what to do. When Stiles could only blink at him, his face crumbled.

Chris wisely remained silent now, but remained behind Peter's protective back, eyes to the ground in submission.

Derek slowly made his way to Stiles and kneeled in front of him, running a hand across Stiles cheek.

"I will not vote," Derek spoke barely above a whisper, "I don't care. Because, if he dies, then I die and the next left hand will be Cora. You'll have to deal with her. Get her vote, not mine."

"Der-" Peter started worriedly, but Derek cut him off.

"Get out." It wasn't shouted, but it was a command. One even Talia followed.

 Weeks passed and Derek had stopped talking to him. He had stopped leaving the den as it was now the summer and school was out. He hadn't bathed in weeks. He wasn't eating or sleeping properly. His wolf didn't transform on the full moon. The only things he did was to bathe Stiles, exercise stiles, and give Deaton his requested peace for his 'check ups' by maintaining Stiles' garden outside.

Stiles felt Derek's side of the bond shrivel with grief. Stiles found himself shedding tears at least once a day that he could do nothing to hide from his suffering mate. Stiles had gotten used to the suffocating silence to the point that when Derek started to speak into their empty den one day Stiles would've jumped out of his skin if he could've.

"You know I Knew you were my mate before you died, this universe you, I mean." Stiles' eyes found Derek's profile as the man started talking. He had been sitting in silence for hours, but suddenly his voice flowed out of him, with no sign of stopping.

"I was on the playground when I smelled you the first time. I followed the scent all the way to you. Even as young as I was I knew you were special. That I didn't want to be parted from you. I growled when another kid approached you, eyes flashing and everything. I was so ashamed I backed away and didn't tell anyone, scared of my reaction. I was known for my control, so I was shaken by how my wolf took over. I watched you though, wanting to be close, but terrified. I remember thinking how ironic that you were so fawn-like. All wide eyed and clumsy. When I was old enough to be around the human children of our pack I was shocked when you were among the group. I finally had a chance to talk to you. To get to know you. I would follow you around as you talked a mile a minute. You would randomly hand me rocks as we walked. I didn't question it at first, I finally asked only for you to look at me like I was missing something obvious."

Derek smiled, even if it wobbled, and shook his head in amusement, "You told me the rocks were pretty and I deserved nice things."

Derek swallowed thickly and Stiles was drinking in every word, "Then you got sick. Then you- I went to your funeral and I felt like I was dying. I still didn't tell anyone, I still didn't understand what made you so important to me. It wasn't until I watched my sister get obsessed with Mates when she started high school that I realized. I realized-"

Derek broke off, a far away look on his face, Stiles waited with baited breath.

With a long sigh Derek scrubbed his face, "Knowing should've made it better and I guess it did in a way, as I could then understand why I was in pain, but it also hurt worse. You were gone and I would never have a mate. I suffered in silence as Laura went on and on about finding her Mate. I would visit your grave. Talking to you. I stopped when I knew I needed to allow myself some type of relationship. Still, I couldn't find anyone with any real pull, a smell that would calm me."

Derek's eyes found his then and the soft pain there pulled Stiles' soul even closer to Derek.

"Then a foul mouth, bloody, and terrified young man hit my living room wall. One sniff and I felt a lighting bolt shoot through me. One look into your eyes and I knew. You had come back to me, but- but you were hurt. You were raw. You were closed off. You were beautiful. I watched you scream that I- the other me- abandoned you. It didn't make sense. If I had you I would have never let you go. When you came back you almost died at Deaton's and I realized you could put me through so much pain, but I softened when I realized you were just as scared as me. I listened to you destroying the recovery room when you realized you had truly lost everything. I listened to your screams and sobs, not being able to move. Stuck between knowing I had no right to invade your privacy and refusing to leave you alone in your torment. I immediately fought for you to become pack, but you always seems to throw a wrench in my plans. You disappeared into the forest, only to be seen at lessons and it wasn't enough. I needed- need you near me. When I found your cave the first time I watched you working in your garden. You were talking to the plants. Telling them what you had planned for your cave and it was the most adorable thing I had ever seen. I had to force myself to turn and walk away from you so I could shower and bring you food. I wanted nothing more than to provide for you."

Derek looked down at his hands, "You took my sister to a ball and I couldn't help but get you into my clothes. Remove her scent from you. You were mine the minute you fell into this world, but as you gave into me I heard Laura call your name down in the kitchen, looking for you. It brought everything crashing down. I felt the crippling grip of unease run through me. The image of you bloody and hurt running through my mind. The reminder that it wasn't just my wants and needs on the line, but yours and my packs. I needed to make sure that this was the right thing. I should have known better."

Derek's searching eyes found his face again, "I can't give you up, Stiles. I don't care how long it takes. I know it's selfish, but I can't lose you, now I know you. Now I know your laugh, your taste, your mind. I just wanted you to know- know that I'm not going anywhere. I just hope you still love me when you come back."

Derek didn't move, waiting.

Stiles focused on his mouth. He felt his tongue twitch and a surge of excitement ran down his spine. Void started shoving at his brain's barriers. His spark let out a war cry before he slashed his claws at the barriers.

He tried again to talk, another twitch.

Derek's shoulders fell and Stiles' stomach went to his throat.

No. No. No.

He wanted to scream. I'm here. I'm here, baby. I haven't left you.

His lips parted and his eyes grew wide. Derek had turned to walk to the kitchen and didn't see. He used this to his advantage and strained to get his body to listen.

Derek froze and spun as five words were whispered into the air between them. Pride and love surging through the bond. Derek's hand coming to his chest as he finally recognized the small weak pulse of Stiles' searching side of the bond. His magic and void screamed in happiness. Derek huffed a laugh at those words before he stumbled over to Stiles on wobbly legs.

"Please," Derek begged, "please god say that again so I know I'm not losing my mind."

Stiles' lips twitched, but he focused again, leaning as much as he could into Derek's hand on his face.

"Don't be such a Sourwolf."

Derek sobbed openly, but he didn't dare take his eyes away from Stiles' face, "You're really back. You stubborn, beautiful, asshole. You were just waiting on me to make some type of impassioned speech weren't you?"

Stiles breathed a chuckle as he tried to move into Derek's chest, but groaned when his body still wouldn't move, "I can't- I want- I need to touch you. I have been begging to touch you for so long. I'm so sorry, I can't move. I can't- I'm sor-"

Derek surged forward to cut him off with a soft kiss, "No, no don't you apologize. Don't exert yourself. We can work on- Oh shit! You're here! I need to call Deaton! I need to call your mom and dad."

Stiles tried to smile as Derek fumbled with his phone, making the needed phone calls with a shivering voice, the adrenaline getting to him.  

As Derek hung up the phone his forehead came to rest on Stiles', "You are okay. You are going to be okay."

"I'm not going anywhere my wolf."

Derek pulled back, his eyes shinning as he repeated, though more for himself, "You're going to be okay."

Stiles didn't even look away as the door banged open and his pack poured through. All talking at the same time. The noise deafening. His mother and Deaton pushing people out of the way to get to him. Laura hugging Derek as she wept, but this time with a smile on her face. Stiles' eyes took in everything happening around him. His eyes meeting Deaton's glassy, but proud orbs. His father shouting for a celebration round when Deaton confirmed that Stiles' mind was official present. His pups standing on the dinning room table to get a look at him, over the heads of everyone else, Issac waving when Stiles' eyes met his.

This was his, all his. These people loved him. These people fought for him. These people- this pack was his family.

Stiles took in all the chaos around him and wanted to laugh. He was safe. He was loved.

But he had to laugh because he was still a dead man walkin'

The End.

Chapter Text

Be good to me- Jacob Banks

Dead Man Walking- WAR*HALL

Cocaine and Able- Amigo the Devil

Far from home- Sam Tennesz

Last one Standing- WAR*HALL

Rescue- Lauren Daigle

Fall into me- Forest Blakk

Gladiator - zayde Wølf

Me and my demons- omido

Carry you- Ruelle

Hurts like hell- Fleurie

King- Zayde Wølf

Focus- Tyler Carter

Head up- the score

Wishing it was you- K.Flay

Wrecked- imagine dragons

Blood on my name- The brothers blight

Monster- Call me karizma

Feeling good- Nina Simone (Avicii remix)

Dangerous Man- Valley of Wolves

Bad temper- sKitz Kraven

Show me- Alina baraz & Galimatias

Chapter Text

Peter rolled his eyes as his nephew gave the job well done speech to his beaten and sore pack.

Like this couldn't wait until they all got the sleep they all desperately needed. To let them come in healed, no it's ‘fresh in everyone's minds’.

Peter absentmindedly twirled a pen, grimacing as he heard Derek praise one of the newer members. Always forgetting to add a post note in for a certain spark whose translation helped them figure out how to defeat the damn thing.

His phone vibrated and he smirked as ‘bootycall’ took over the screen. He changed the name on the way to the airport when he left Stiles still passed out in bed. Peter couldn't bring himself to wake the peaceful man and hell, Stiles earned that sleep.

Peter had chuckled as he changed the contact name thinking how it would drive Derek insane.

He didn’t mean to cause a scene when he called Stiles in the car on the way home from the airport- okay it was just a cherry on top, but more than that he wanted that beautiful brave man to know he had someone in his corner.

Peter respected Stiles and after having the night of his fucking life Peter could safely say that Stiles was one of the few people he would jump at the chance of a round two if it came around.

It wouldn’t.

He knew it wouldn’t come, but a wolf could dream.

He ran into trouble when he found that his conversations with Stiles were the brightest part of his day and he found himself getting restless if he didn’t know if Stiles was okay.

He, as the left hand for the Hale pack, kept tabs on the Hills pack. At least that's the reasoning he gave to his contacts. He knew how much shit Stiles had been through, or most of it. Reading the line, ‘Is suffering severe symptoms of rejection syndrome’ on a report and seeing it were two very different things.

After he left he would ask his spies to grab pictures when they could of Stiles. Was that creepy? Yes, yes it was, but he found he needed to see more than what Stiles showed him. Needed that reassurance. He cared about someone outside his family pack bond for the first time in… Well too long.

Peter found he needed those updates like he needed food or water. Would become increasingly agitated if he hadn't gotten a report in few days. Good or bad.

That’s how he collected a range of pictures from Stiles dragging a bleeding Liam into the house, yelling to someone behind him to his arm thrown over Lydia’s shoulder pulling her in closer as he kissed the side of her head, her arms circling his torso.

The now familiar warmth spread through him just thinking about the spark, but was quickly doused by the pointed glare from Derek that- oh had stopped talking, when did that happen?

Peter let out his best put upon sign as he showed him silencing it, though not rejecting it, knowing Derek would see the contact name. This was a practiced move, usually accompanied by a snarky, ‘Only an idiot would reject Stiles.’

He left that off… this time.

“Can we hurry this along?” he drawled in a way that usually got Derek riled up enough to just give him what he wanted.

Derek’s jaw ticked but he continued where he was. Peter tried to listen to it, he really did- not putting in all his effort, but come on everyone just wanted sleep.

Well he wanted to do something else first and his phone seemed to be burning in his hand reminding him of what he was missing out on.

Finally!

Finally they got to the questions/ concerns portion of the meeting. Peter ignored Derek’s glare as he stood up to walk to the next room to check the voicemail.

He put in his passcode and waited, a smirk playing on his face.

"Hey Peter, you didn't pick up, so I guess you're with Sourwolf huh?”

Peter’s smile slid down to a small hint of its former self as something in Stiles’ voice sounded off.

“Listen, I don't have much time. Scott and Kira are dead. Jennifer… she…She killed 'em. I killed her, but she returned the favor. I used magic to hold onto this world. To come back. But I'm dying."

Peter couldn’t breathe. His hands were shaking. As he struggled to maneuver his phone. Stiles wasn't making sense.

No. No. No.

A sick part of his mind said he didn’t give a flying fuck about the others, just please god not Stiles.

An even sicker part of him knew he meant it.

Before he knew it the lady was asking him if he wanted to save or delete the message. He managed to hit the save option and immediately called Stiles.

No answer.

He called again, “Come on Stiles. Pick up. Pick. Up. The. Goddamn. Phone.”

No answer.

He growled. Straight up growled. His wolf clawing desperately at his control like it hasn't done in years.

He marched back into the living room, not caring about interrupting Issac to point at the room at large, “Who still has contacts with the Hills pack?”

Issac, Aiden, and Ethan answered all at once.

“Uh, you?”

“Fuck off old man.”

“What? Your boy toy done with you?”

Peter roared, “I need a comms check on anyone in Beacon NOW!”

Everyone scrambled to listen and even Derek shut his mouth as Peter’s glowing eyes found him.

He called Stiles again.

“FUCK!”

“Scott isn’t answering!” Issac’s panicked voice preceded him into the room where he was dialing again.

“I have Deaton’s number.” Derek’s voice was small and he looked out of it, his breaths coming in shallower as he held out his own phone.

Peter snatched it and hit the call button.

“I should have expected this call.” Deaton sounded exhausted, but Peter could. Not. Give. A. Shit.

“Where is he?”

“Peter?”

“Where is Stiles?”

A commotion was heard and then a rare small voice took over, it was rare because it was so unlike her, “Peter-” but she cut herself off like she didn't know what to say.

It was silent on her end then besides the mournful howls of a wolf.

Peter licked his lips as Derek’s trembling body collapsed into a chair behind him, he didn’t care.

“Lydia, I need you to tell me he’s okay.”

He heard her open her mouth, but heard her words get caught in her throat.

“Please.” his voice was barely a wheeze and he knew he was being unfair to her, but he couldn’t get Stiles’ voice out of his head.

‘I'm dying.’

The rest of his pack were frozen. Either out of tension wanting to know her answer or knowing to keep out of his way at the moment.

Maybe both.

“He’s gone.”

Peter’s Claws carved through the wood he was leaning on, she didn't give him a chance to respond, “Kira and Scott are too. It’s just me and Liam and for the past hour h-” she was suddenly cut off by awful heart wrenching howls.

“He’s burning through the Sedative too fast. He needs to find his anchor!”

“His anchor was Stiles and him debating in his head! And Stiles is fucking dead! I don’t know what to tell you but could you fucking figure it out for your fucking self? Weren't you a goddamn emissary to the Hale pack at one point? So pretend for one blessed second you have magical knowledge that you could use in an emergency situation or figure out a way to give me one fucking second to breathe! Either way do. Your. Fucking. Job!”

Peter heard something that was said further away, drowned out by Liam.

Oh Liam, he had heard the howls, but the depth settled into understanding, sliding down his skin like sandpaper. Scott is gone.

Laura, he was going through what she went through all those years ago. She had trained for years for the alpha spark and according to Derek it took her years to recover the bonds breaking and the alpha spark.

Shit. Liam was the last one. His alpha, his anchor, everything was gone.

Everything but the banshee.

He was the last wolf standing in Beacon Hills.

“What’s wrong with Liam?” Aiden’s small voice rang out and he shrank away from Peter’s still glowing eyes, “He just lost the majority of his pack, his alpha, his anchor, and had an alpha spark shoved uuncerimoniously into his head, please if you are going to speak make it fucking useful.”

Peter stood fully as Lydia came back on the line, which was much quieter on their end, “Wait, how did you even know? Don’t tell me he actually still feels anything from the bond? Actually right now hearing he suffered as well would make me feel a little better.”

Peter cleared his throat as he looked at Derek who was sweating, pale, and trembling. Derek never would open up about the bond, even before Peter fucked his mate, much less after. So while he didn't know much about his connection before, he for sure was feeling something now, though when Peter checked on the pack bond Derek was still bright.

Not dying then.

Peter relaxed a little at that, then again he had rejected Stiles hadn’t he. So he was never in danger anyway. Peter felt that familiar anger roll through him when he thought about it.

The possible future that Peter craved played through his head again.

Derek accepts Stiles, they work themselves on restoring the nemeton. If Scott and Derek could've learned to play nice and been a dual alpha pack they would've been golden. Would've become the most dominant pack in the states in a few years, maybe in the world a few years after that. Stiles with the restored nemeton would've been terrifying. Even Peter is man enough to admit he wouldn’ve shown his neck. Peter and Stiles were pack, seeing each other everyday.

Stiles wouldn’t- he would be here. Where he belongs.

Looking at Derek now though he truly wondered how much Derek could feel.

He raised his eyebrows at his kin, to say ‘we are talking about this later’.

“He is feeling a little under the weather, but Stiles- he called me.”

Lydia let out a pathetic little wet chuckle, “God, even dying he couldn’t help himself could he?”

Peter opened his mouth, but it was too dry, he didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

“Peter, are you there?”

“Yes, I just-I can’t-I-”

“I know.” Her voice was soft again, “Believe me I know.”

“How- why- I don't understand.” Is all Peter landed on as he sunk into a chair, running a hand over his head, his wolf howling its own mournful cry.

“Didn’t You talk to him? You said he called?”

Peter’s whole being began to crumble as that new thought settled into his brain. If he had answered. He could've talked to him before he-

Before he-

“It was a voicemail, I didn't talk to him, I didn't answer. We were in a meeting, I didn't- I didn't know- I- I didn't answer.”

“Hey, Stiles knew that. Would never blame you for not answering. Jennifer she- well she likes the surprise attacks. It started with these husks of the humans she had drained. She used those to distract and weaken us. Used them to flank us, we aren’t a big pack anymore. We'd won a few of these things with her in the past few years, I know he told you, but she- she finally got to us.”

Peter took some shuddering breaths, “I should have come back- I could have helped.”

His last word faltered and he heard her take a shuddering breath, “Peter he told me you've been dealing with a thing of your own recently and Derek had already refused. There was nothing you could have done, it would have gone against your pack. Stiles would never ask you to do that.”

Peter froze and it felt like his world was crumbling around him again.

Was he wolf? Was he man?

He didn't realize he was growling until Lydia's sympathetic voice cut across his brain, “Oh, Sweetness, you didn't know? He didn't tell you? Three months ago when we learned she was back in the area, we just wanted it done, so Scott asked for assistance.”

She was silent for a second before continuing, “Wait, if you don't know…Peter if you didn’t know that… well…the Beacon Hills pack has officially and unofficially petitioned Derek for help for years. They were always ignored.”

He turned his head slowly to take in Derek's sweaty face. Peter was livid. Something inside him tried to make himself feel better that Derek looked like shit and ashamed.

It didn't.

He knew Derek blamed himself for things that weren't his fault. It seemed he could add something to his baggage that was actually his fault.

“You-,” Peter would usually preen at the entire pack cowering at his tone from a single word alone, but he was too far gone, “denied help to an allied pack that has helped our sorry asses over and over. Information. Shipments of herbs. Den security collaboration. And you just- You denied STILES! Again! How many times? How many times did your Mate's pack ask for our help and you said no?” Shock went through the pack, as the newer ones didn't know the history but to deny a mate is so fucking rare and the ones from Beacon didn't know… until now.

“S-stiles was-” Issac’s shocked voice was cut across by Peter’s shouting, “No pack discussion, none of the open communication you love so much? And don't you fucking dare pretend you didn't care for that boy! Don't you dare pretend you-”

“Honey, sorry to cut you off, but I think we have a little more important things to cover first.”

Lydia’s voice cut across him and he breathed harshly in anger still, but did refocus, but not before he bared his teeth at his nephew, saying he wasn't done with him.

“I’m sorry, your right, I, Peter Hale, of Hale pack as the left hand pledge our support. What do you need? How can we help?”

He worried about Derek’s reaction but he just whimpered and closed his eyes in pain. Issac came closer, Peter now seeing the red rimmed eyes on the young man, nodding his support of this decision.

Peter forgot the man had been close to Scott. Hell to Stiles as well. Jesus.

How did his people miss this? They mentioned phone records showed Derek's cell, but that couldn't have been when they- all those times they weren’t asking for help were they? And he just-

Peter breathed shakily again.

“We want to shut down the Nematon and then get the hell out of town. We won't leave innocents here if we plan to leave without turning off the literal supernatural beacon. What did- did Stiles say in his voicemail? Did he have anything to say?”

Peter was shaking his head even before she finished speaking, “I didn't even finish listening to it. He just said- said he was dying. Mentioned Jennifer, Scott, and Kira- I immediately tried to call him. I haven't- God I don't even know how he knew he was dying or how he- how-”

He was struggling for air, Lydia saved him, albeit in a weird voice, a detached voice. A fragile voice.

“Jennifer hit him with a spell, I don't know what it was. I had never heard the latin she spoke, but he was thrown through a wall and he was just gone- like blinked completely out of existence for like 15? 20 minutes? Then in true Stiles fashion he just fucking reappeared, mouth first of course.” This brought a small chuckle past her lips, “He tried to stop her from killing Scott, she had already- Kira was already- but she didn't and Scott- Stiles went Void, full void.”

Peter rubbed a hand down his face, “Tell me it was painful.”

“You know void.” Lydia Affirmed.

“But if he- if he came back?” Peter started hopefully.

“Was way ahead of you. Both Stiles and Jennifer knew he was on ‘borrowed time’ when he came back, at least that's what he said. He said she sent him somewhere, somewhere he couldn’t come back from.”

Peter sat up eagerly, “That doesn't mean dead.” Then turned to Derek, “Is he dead?”

Derek blinked dazedly, “I can feel the bond, but it's… fading? Is that normal?”

Peter’s stomach flipped, he was asking Peter because of his wife and children that died in the fire.

“I wouldn't know, Derek, my bonds were intact when they snapped from death. Are you in pain? Hot? Dizzy? Weakness in all your limbs?”

Derek slid further down into his seat as if he could no longer sit up straight, but nodded.

Peter’s eyes squeezed shut, “By Derek’s symptoms it sounds like Stiles was right.”

“Deaton thinks Stiles somehow used his connection to the Nematon to stay here longer. To keep him alive longer.”

Lydia sounded so damn tired.

“He's not in pain.”

A crackle of a voice sounded on Lydia’s end.

“What was that, little alpha?” Lydia's voice turned to a soft lullaby.

Jesus, that was Liam's voice?

“I- I asked if he was in pain where she sent him. He said no. He's not in pain. He's not in pain.”

Peter’s heart broke for the wolf, so young, just like Derek was. Repeating that Stiles wasn't in pain like he needed to tell himself along with the rest of us.

“Thank you, Liam.” Lydia sounded on the verge of tears even as she praised him, “You did so good, close your eyes and get some more rest, okay?”

“He's not in pain.” Liam repeated back, his voice sounding hopeful and distant all at once.

It was silent as no one seemed to know what to do.

Kira was dead.

Scott was dead.

Stiles was dead.

Derek…

Peter looked to him and sighed, he looked ready to drop.

“Lydia, we are going to pack up and head to you.”

“Okay, you need to keep a low profile. We know the police found Kira, Scott, and Jennifer's bodies. They are processing the den right now. I ran by and grabbed mine and Liam's go bags from our places as we won't be looked into for a while. Soon we will be listed as missing along with Stiles. We have a backup den owned under a pseudonym deep in the preserve. Not even on a map. No public road access. I'll send you details when you're closer. Let me know.”

“Okay, we are almos-”

“I don't care. I don't care how quick you say you can get here. I know whatever the answer it will piss me off.”

“Fair enough, see you soon.”

He hung up the phone and hated this new weight on his shoulders. Hated that he knew this is what the Hills had to deal with everyday. Jesus they were desperate enough to officially reach out for help. For years. Stiles never mentioned it to him, either he didn't know his pack had done that or Stiles didn't want to worry him. Peter knew which one was more likely. Stiles never held it against him.

“Aiden, Ethan, get Derek to the Doctor. Make sure he's stable to fly in two hours. Issac pack them a go bag while you pack yours. No one else is going. We have a new unpredictable alpha with a Territory to protect. He knows us, he still won't like us, so you will remain on guard. Have a go bag packed at all times. Have your ringers up! No one has plans. No one is leaving the den except for work and necessities. You are on call. Do I make myself clear?”

The new wolves, faces that would be completely foreign to Stiles, all nodded. All seeming to be glad to disperse out from the heavy atmosphere.

He then opened his phone and in less than 10 minutes had a private jet waiting for all of them. Derek wouldn't pass for normal right now in a public airport and if he were honest with himself neither would he or Issac. He gave Issac the packing task to give him something to do with his hands. A simple Repetitive task. He might be focused on Stiles, but he wasn’t so egotistical to dismiss Issac’s pain. Issac needed a repetitive task. A simple Instruction. A way to keep calm.

They all needed to keep calm.

He stood with purpose to pack a bag for Derek and himself.

He finalized the route with the pilot.

Set tasks list for the remaining pack at their den, sent word to his contacts, and picked out every book he could that he thought might help them.

Packed, probably too much, of their surplus away to load into the cargo of the plane. He was bringing more mouths and he would show Liam they were serious about helping him.

Last thing he brought on the plane with him was the shoe box of the pictures he had collected of the Hills pack from his reports. There were so many he thought Lydia and Liam would like to see or have when the time was right.

He could give them that at least.

Before he knew it they were loaded onto the plane on the way back to California and he found his hands beginning to shake. He gripped them into fists.

They all needed to remain calm.

He had shown more emotion today than he was used to. He had played his cards, but a part of him bluntly said it didn't matter. Not anymore.

Even with the other three wolves on the other end of the plane and asleep he didn't know if he was allowed to lose it yet, no, he decided. Not until Lydia and Liam were safe.

Stiles would want them safe.

“You loved him.” Derek's shuddering voice cracked with the effort.

Peter sighed as he looked over to his shivering nephew laid out on the airplane’s couch. Covered in blankets.

Peter wanted to shut him down, wanted to say something like, ‘Well, someone had to’, but that would belittle what he felt for Stiles. Make it sound like it was a cheap Bandaid or Peter trying to make amends for wrongs he wasn’t responsible for, which isn't that the most moronic thing he could possibly have done.

No. Stiles deserved better than that.

“Yeah, I did.” He sounded old to his own ears. Sounded a million years old.

“Me too.” Derek's voice was miniscule.

“I know.” Peter nodded before continuing, “I am so beyond disappointed, betrayed, and livid at you for ignoring our boy's pack.”

“I know.” Derek's voice was just as small, only now colored in shame.

They sat in silence for so long Peter thought it was over, that he wouldn't have to talk about it anymore, but Derek's small voice started again, “I could feel it when you were together.”

Peter's head whipped to look at him at that and Derek swallowed thickly, “I didn't know it was you until you got in the car. He felt safe and excited with you. I only got small feedback, but sometimes, with stronger emotions, a lot more came through. I loved it and hated it. I got to feel him again, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth. No one's fault but my own, I know. I couldn't sleep that night, knew he was with someone, someone new, knew it was different. I knew because I felt his full spectrum of emotions. It was- he was in awe of you. With Lydia I would get flashes, but,” Derek huffed a humorless laugh, “he was particularly focused with you.”

It was Peter’s turn to swallow loudly, “I will not apologize for it.”

Derek closed his eyes as he shook his head, “I wouldn't ask you to.”

Peter nodded, “If you felt that, then- then-”

Derek cut him off, “I knew everytime he was being tortured. I felt him begging for it to end, I felt his panic for his pack, I felt his panic- his panic for me.”

Peter shook his head, not sure what to say.

“Can- can I hear the voicemail?” Derek's eyes begged and Peter looked down at his phone.

He let out a nervous cut off laugh, “I didn't even listen to the whole thing. I- I guess we need to, right?”

Derek looked slightly shocked that Peter was asking, but nodded.

“Okay.” Peter’s voice shook as he unlocked his phone.

Put in his pin And pressed speaker.

“Hey Peter,” Stiles voice washes over Peter again and even though he knew Derek was watching him, closed his eyes with a shuddering breath, how was he supposed to survive this?

“You didn't pick up, so I guess you're with Sourwolf huh? Listen, I don't have much time. Scott and Kira are dead. Jennifer… she…She killed 'em. I killed her, but she returned the favor. I used magic to hold onto this world. To come back. But I'm dying."

Peter opened his eyes in time to see a tear falling down Derek's temple into his hair.

"Peter, I'm so cold and tired.” This caused Derek to clamp his eyes shut.

“I ca- I can’t- I don't have long. So please can you do me one last favor? Liam and Lydia are all that's left. Liam is going to try and shut down the nematon completely. They need help, Peter. They need a pack. Liam is young and scared with an unexpected alpha spark inside him. He needs to help Liam.”

Derek's eyes reopened, “Force him. Make sure Deaton helps them. I told them to find Cora, to find your little pack."

A coughing fit overtook Stiles and Peter’s head fell into his hands, "Peter, listen to me please. You are a good man. You belong with a pack. Don't forget that. Your past mistakes don't define you. You have grown and I'm so proud of you."

Peter was trying to keep grounded through his agony, Stiles’ last agonizing breath and he's wasting them worried about Peter. About making sure Peter knows he has changed. That Stiles is proud of him.

Peter couldn't Control the knot forming in his throat and the whine building in his chest.

Stiles groaned, "I-I need you to take care of him. I failed."

Derek and Peter looked at each other, both struggling to breathe. Both in pain. Both grieving a man they loved. Love.

A man that thought he failed them. Peter felt disgusted.

"I failed everyone in my life. I can't- I can't fail the both of you. Take care of each other. I love you… I-I,” Stiles wheezed out a small hitched gasp,”I love you both."

It looked like the air got knocked out of Derek. His entire body looked like it was trembling.

"I can't keep my eyes open, but I don't want to die alone. I'm- I'm so sorry."

Peter could only hit save as the robotic woman's voice took over.

It was silent until Peter finally took a gasping breath and then he couldn't stop it. Peter's shoulders shook and he seemed to fold in on himself as sobs wracked his body.

No.

He couldn't breakdown yet. He needed to make sure Stiles’ family was safe first. Stiles who thought he failed them somehow.

Peter was the one that failed.

Clammy hands grabbed him in a fierce hug. It was a solid minute before he could will his arms to hold his nephew in return. Both trembling, both silent, accepting any comfort the other could provide.

It was another minute before he realized they had somehow ended up sitting on the floor.

It all seemed empty. Peter’s chest, the world, the future. What was it without Stiles?

It was another minute before he realized Derek's wheezing was getting harsher and he was leaning a little too hard into his shoulder.

“You need to go lay back down.” Peter softly chided.

Derek's small chuckle, though wobbly, was a small reward.

Peter helped put the blanket back on him and groaned as he settled into his seat once more. Both with tears still slowly falling down their faces.

“Sleep,” Peter softly commanded, “we have a lot of work ahead of us.”

Derek nodded as he closed his eyes, though Peter knew he was still awake, his mind probably in a million places at once.

As he looked out the airplane window trying to calm himself enough to even out his breathing, his thoughts were of Stiles.

Stiles said he was good.

Stiles said he made him proud.

Stiles said he loved him.

He touched his phone to reassure himself that it was there. That Stiles’ words were still there. His love always there for Peter to listen to. To remind himself it was real.

Stiles said he was good.

Stiles said he made him proud.

Stiles said he loved him.

Peter’s head rested against the window, gripping the phone now like a lifeline.

He was good.

He was someone to be proud of.

Stiles loved him.

‘I love you, Stiles.’ He thought as he looked out at the clouds. They looked so different, no longer as beautiful as he remembered.

But Stiles said he was good.

Said he was something to he proud of.

Said he loved him.

Peter let his eyes close on this hell of a day. His heart breaking with the knowledge that when he woke it would all still be the same. Stiles would still be dead and Peter would still feel like joining him.

But he couldn't do that, Lydia and Liam needed his help and he would do everything in his power to take care of them.

Because he was good.

Because he was going to continue to make Stiles proud.

Because Stiles was loved.