Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter makes it a point to know who every student at Beacon Hills High School is. Even if they're completely unremarkable, he likes to know the basics about them. He's a senior, still a child according to his sister, but he's tapped to be her right hand, her enforcer. It's his job to know about everyone that could be a potential threat. She calls him paranoid, he calls it practicing. So when a new student comes, the first in a long time (in years really. No one moves to Beacon Hills.), Peter pays attention.

The first thing he knows is that the boy, Stiles, he goes by, has a horrendous legal first name. The next is that he's the son of the newly appointed sheriff (their old sheriff had died in a shoot out last month and none of her deputies wanted the job, oddly enough). The third is something he doesn't know until he sees Stiles in the hall for the first time; that the boy is gorgeous. He's tall with light brown eyes, pale skin dotted with moles. His brown hair is artfully messy, though Peter has the idea that he actually just rolled out of bed and got lucky that morning. He's considering a plan of action to talk to the boy when the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch and sending everyone scrambling to their classes. He figures he'll deal with it the next day.

What Peter hadn't counted on was Cora bringing Stiles home with her. Even though they go to the same school, Peter drives separately from Cora, Laura, and Derek. It isn't that he doesn't like his family, far from it, but living with such a big family, sometimes he needs time alone and usually the only way that's possible is when he's driving. He takes the long way home, driving on back roads and letting the silence take him over, until he finally makes it back to their home in the preserve, probably an hour after the others had arrived.

Peter walks in the front door and freezes in the foyer at the unfamiliar smell. There are the usual scents of the family, Cora and Laura's the most potent since they are in the living room, followed by Derek's (the boy had probably locked himself in his room again, as he tends to since Paige's...Paige). Then the unfamiliar scent. Peter pulls himself together and walks in, casually glancing in the living room on the way to the kitchen. Laura is sitting in the big recliner in the corner, watching Bob's Burgers on low so Stiles and Cora can concentrate. Because there was Stiles, sitting next to Cora on the couch, both hunched over her math book.

See, now this is strange for two reasons. The first is that Cora hates school work, especially math. It's always a fight to get her to even crack open the book, let alone stare at it as intently as she is while Stiles talks. The second is that Cora doesn't exactly have many friends. She's intimidating, doesn't have much patience, and isn't into most of what people her age are. She knows these things and doesn't particularly care. But here's Stiles, someone she's known for two days, tops, in her family home, doing homework with her. This hasn't happened since elementary school. Laura gives Peter a pointed look over Stiles and Cora's heads, a look saying very clearly 'Don't fuck this up'.

"Hello," Peter says as he walks through, waving casually.

Cora looks up surprised, like she hadn't heard him come in. Stiles follows her gaze, eyes resting on Peter. The shrewd look he gives him, like he's assessing him, borders on making Peter uncomfortable. But a second later the look is gone and Stiles is smiling.

"Hey, I'm Stiles," he says.

"This is my uncle, Peter," Cora says. "Leave us alone, we're doing shit."

Peter snorts but continues on his way to the kitchen. He goes to the fridge and pulls out all the necessary ingredients before starting on sandwiches. He's slow about it, making sure to be quiet enough to hear what's going on in the next room. Cora and Stiles are actually talking math, Stiles launching into explanations of their teacher's homework assignments.

"She's garbage at explaining things," Peter hears Stiles say. "And she's only teaching one method. But look, if you use this formula here, it's actually faster and you get the same result."

"Why isn't she teaching that one then?" Cora asks, sounding irritated.

"It isn't in the textbook," Stiles says. "Let me guess, she spent the first half of the year talking about how important standardized testing is and hammering useless crap into your brains?"

"Basically," Cora says. "It's dumb, I'm not supposed to be in AP anyway."

"Why are you in an AP math class?" Stiles asks, sounding surprised.

"There wasn't any room in any other classes, and it's either take it this year or I'm short a math credit for next year. I went to the registrar, but she said it's too late in the year to swtich classes," Cora says bitterly. "They probably all expect me to fail anyway."

"Hey," Stiles says. "I'm not letting you fail, okay?"

"Stiles, I'm barely pulling a D. They stuck me in it because there's no hope for me anyway, so why bother?" Cora says and Peter frowns. He hadn't known...he would have marched right into the principal's office himself and demanded they transfer her. The entire family had just assumed she'd tested well and hated school. Peter feels like a bit of an asshole for not even asking. And if he acts like an asshole, he prefers it to be on purpose.

"I don't care," Stiles says. "First of all, Ds get degrees." Cora snorts at that. "Second of all, I guarantee we'll get you to at least a C."

"I don't - "

"Nope, we're doing this. Here, look at number 12b..."

Peter tunes out a bit after that. Mrs. Collins, Cora's teacher, is one Peter had had a couple of years ago and yeah, he knows she's a real piece of work. Stiles explains a few mathematical theorems ten times better than she had when Peter had been in her class. He can still hear Cora's frustration when she doesn't understand something, which is usually when she starts saying fuck it and closing the book, but Stiles seems to be a master at redirecting that energy into progress, and getting Cora on board the spite-the-nonbelievers train, ready to run over whatever faculty and students think Cora can't pass this class. And if there's something his niece responds to, it's the pleasure of doing something other people tell her she can't. Peter would know, they've bonded over that extensively.

Finished, Peter comes out to the living room, balancing four plates of food and sets down a sandwich each in front of Cora, Laura, and Stiles, all who look at him in surprise.

"What?" he asks.

"You're being nice," Laura says. "It's weird."

Peter rolls his eyes and takes a seat on the other side of Cora on the couch, pulling out a book. Stiles eyes him in interest before turning his attention back to Cora. Peter reads on and off, content to just listen to Stiles' voice.

"Dude, I have such bad ADHD that my blood is more Adderall than actual blood," Stiles says. "If I can do it, you definitely can."

"How'd you even end up in this class if you know it all?" Cora asks when they're packing up their books.

"I was in a higher math class at my old school," Stiles says. "They wouldn't place me higher here because they administration seems to suck hardcore."

"You're not wrong," Laura says.

Cora walks Stiles to the door and punches him in the shoulder good-naturedly on his way out. For Cora, that's practically a hug.

Laura and Peter stare at her as she walks back in and plops back down on the couch, turning her attention to the nature documentary Laura is now watching. She glances up when she feels their eyes on her.

"What?" she asks.

"You were doing math," Laura says. "On purpose."

"So?" Cora asks defensively.

"So, you hate math," Laura says.

"I don't hate math, I hate Mrs. Collins and I hate not understanding things," Cora says.

"I think what your sister is so delicately saying is we're just surprised is all," Peter says. "Pleasantly so. Stiles is new?"

"You know he is," Cora says with an eye roll. "He transferred in Monday. Jackson made fun of his name, Stiles made fun of his small dick."

"Is that how you became friends?" Peter asks, amused.

"Well he sat next to me too and pointed out a mistake Mrs. Collins made on my homework," Cora says, sounding amused. "She was not happy at all, and made him come to front and basically said 'go ahead if you think you know better than me' and just demolished all the problems on the board."

"I bet she loved that," Laura said.

"Right? So she paired him up with me for the rest of the day," Cora says.

"I like him," Laura says.

"Me, too," Peter says.

Cora looks at them both suspiciously before turning her attention back to the TV, deciding to ignore them.

Peter comes to Cora's room after dinner, knocking lightly on the door, entering when she yells to.

"What's up?" Cora asks. Her oversized headphones are hanging around her neck and she's sitting cross-legged on her bed, already in sleep shorts and a tank top.

"We owe you an apology," Peter says.

"We?" Cora asks.

"The family," Peter clarifies. "Though I only speak for me."

"Okay," she says slowly. "For what?"

"We've been so focused on Derek since everything happened that we've neglected you," Peter says. Cora's eyebrows raise in surprise.

"You haven't-"

"We have," Peter interrupts. "We didn't know about your math class. We didn't know administration wouldn't switch you, or that you were struggling. We just assumed everything was fine."

"It's not your responsibility to," Cora says with a shrug.

"We're family," Peter says. "We are each other's responsibility. But yes, my sister should definitely be paying more attention to her children."

Cora just shrugs.

"Derek, I mean, he's hurting, you know? He needs her more," Cora says.

"Your parents' love isn't a finite resource," Peter says. "I'll talk to her later."

"Don't, it's not a big deal," Cora says quickly.

"It is," Peter says firmly. "You're family, and you're pack. That matters, Cora."

Cora swallows and for a second Peter thinks she may hit him, as much as she hates emotional crap, but she throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Peter squeezes her back, relishing the rare physical contact she initiates.

"You're my favorite niece," Peter says. "Don't tell Laura."

Cora laughs.

"I bet you say that to her, too."

"Yes, but I don't actually mean it," Peter says. Cora laughs again and pulls away. "I'm glad you made a friend."

It should sound patronizing, but it just makes Cora smile.

"Yeah, me too."

Peter just hopes Stiles is as good as he seems. It doesn't matter how well he gets along with Cora if he's a threat. Peter hopes he isn't one.

They chat for a bit longer, Peter catching up with Cora's life (he's embarrassed by how much he doesn't know), then he makes his way to Talia's study. She's a Very Important City Council Member, and is at her desk poring over documents when Peter knocks. He walks in, not waiting for her to call him in.

"I didn't say to come in," she says, not looking up from the papers in front of her.

"I know. That's one of the perks of werewolf hearing," Peter says.

Talia looks up with a sigh. "Yes?" she asks.

"We need to talk about Cora," Peter says.

"And why is that?" Talia asks.

"Did you know she has a D in math?" Peter asks.

"Yes, I do," Talia says. "Are you here to tattle on her, Peter? Really?"

Peter ignores that barb and goes on, even though it stings a bit.

"Did you also know that she was put into her math class because of a mistake?"

Talia does look surprised at that.

"What do you mean a mistake?"

"She was supposed to be a class lower. The registrar wouldn't move her because she said classes had already started and the other class was too full," Peter says.

"So they put her in a class she isn't ready for and what, are just going to let her fail?" Talia asks.

"So it would seem," Peter says.

"Why is it we didn't know this?" Talia asks. "If I call the school-"

"They won't do anything, we both know that," Peter says. "A friend in the class is helping her and I think will keep her from failing, but that's pure luck."

"A friend? What friend?" Talia asks.

"Stiles, he's new. I'm working on it," Peter says, waving his hand. "It's neither here nor there. The point is you should have known."

"Excuse me? Are you trying to tell me how to parent my children?" Talia asks, eyes narrow. "Remember, you're barely 18."

"We're all been so focused on Derek that Cora's fallen through the cracks," Peter says. "This is something we should have known. What if she was struggling with something worse?"

Talia deflates, righteous anger fading and leaving the smell of exhaustion.

"I don't know how to help him, Peter. He just goes to class, does his homework, and stays in his room. I tried to find a therapist for him, but how can he explain to them that he mercy killed his first love?" Talia says.

"Satomi might have someone in the know in her pack," Peter says. "You'd have to drive a bit, but it'd be worth it."

"That's...a really good idea. Why didn't I think of that?" Talia says. "You're right, damn it. We've been singleminded with Derek. Is...is Cora okay?"

"Yes, I talked to her earlier," Peter says. Talia looks at him expectantly but Peter says nothing else. His conversations are private, she knows this. "Deal with Derek, but make sure you don't forget the rest of your family. We still exist."

He leaves her then, satisfied and hoping she'll talk her to her husband David later. If not, Peter will.

Chapter Text

Satomi does have a recommendation from a therapist, which comes as no surprise to Peter. She's a witch that has a practice 45 minutes out. Derek ignores Talia when she suggests going, but after Laura spends an hour with him in his room, he comes out and gives a little nod. An appointment in made for the next day. He's upset when he comes home and spends the rest of the afternoon in his room, but actually comes down for dinner, so Peter counts it as a step in the right direction.

Peter runs into Stiles that weekend at the grocery store. It's his turn to do the shopping for the week, a task most of the pack loathes, but Peter finds enjoyable. It's rare he gets time to himself and he drags it out as best he can. He's just finished tossing five boxes of cereal in his cart when Stiles rounds the corner and literally runs into him.

"Oof! Oh my god I'm so sorry. Peter? Oh my god, embarrassing," Stiles says, flushing bright red.

"It's fine," Peter says. "No harm, no foul."

It's then that Stiles sees the sheer amount of food in his cart and his eyes widen.

"Are you feeding all of Beacon County?" Stiles asks.

"Just the Hales. So, half of Beacon County," Peter jokes.

"How many of you are there?!"

"Well, you've met Laura, Cora, and Derek. Then there's their parents, my other sister and her husband, their three kids, and a distant cousin that was sent to us while his mom goes through rehab. And we eat like wolves," Peter adds with a wink. Stiles rolls his eyes. "And you...do not."

Stiles glances down at his own basket, which contains three apples and about ten microwaveable meals. He shrugs.

"It's just me and my dad, and he doesn't have a lot of time, you know?" Stiles says easily, though Peter notices the tension, like he's waiting for Peter's comment on the sheriff's parenting skills. "You just put like five boxes of Lucky Charms in your cart, you don't get to judge me."

"Not judging you," Peter says, raising his hands in surrender. "Merely wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner." Stiles looks at him suspiciously, a trait Peter can appreciate. "We're having real mac and cheese, not Easy Mac."

"Hey, I'll have you know Easy Mac is a staple of any healthy teenager diet," Stiles says.

"I wouldn't know," Peter says.

"You are the most food-ily pretentious high schooler I've ever met," Stiles says, shaking his head.

"That I do know," Peter says. "Be over at seven."

"I didn't say yes!" Stiles calls as Peter walks back down the aisle toward the checkout counter.

"Home-cooked food!" Peter calls back.

"Easy Mac-hating bastard," he hears Stiles mumble under his breath, and smirks.

Cora punches Peter in the shoulder when he gets home.

"No poaching my friends!" she says, pointing a finger at him. "I absolutely call dibs, get your own."

"I invited him to dinner, I didn't propose," Peter says, rubbing his arm. Cora's fists are small and sharp.

Cora glares at him, but consents to help him with dinner.

"I don't want him scared away," Cora says when Peter's puts the tray of macaroni and cheese into the oven. "There are a million of us and we're loud and - "

"Cora," Peter interrupts. "It's going to be fine. Aaron, Marissa, and the kids aren't even going to be here. Just the six of us."

Cora glares, but Peter can tell its nerves.

"You've been checking him out?" Cora asks. "Have you found anything?"

"His mother is dead and he's a smart, sarcastic dick," Peter says with a shrug. "That's all for now."

"Sounds like you," Cora says then grimaces. "I didn't mean about the dead mother thing! Wow, shoot me."

"It's fine," Peter says. It is, he's over his parents' deaths. They never really treated him like a much of a son anyway. "Check on the vegetables."

Stiles rings the doorbell two minutes before seven, though he'd been sitting in his car in the driveway for the last ten minutes, heart racing.

"Why's he nervous?" Cora asks.

"He's meeting his first new friend's family," Peter points out. "It's probably nerve wracking."

Cora answers the door and immediately apologizes for her family.

"Uh, it's fine?" Stiles says, awkwardly holding what smells like a home baked pie.

"Peter's a creeper, Derek's going to be quiet the whole time, Laura will probably tease you, and my mom and dad will grill you the whole time about college plans," she says.

Stiles shrugs and says, "Worse things could happen."

Cora's absolutely right, Peter thinks. Peter stares, probably creepily, Laura teases him, and Talia and David immediately ask about future plans. Stiles shocks them into silence when he says he wants to become a go-go dancer, then they all burst into laughter when he assures them he's kidding. He even gets Derek to talk, which makes Laura drop her fork full of macaroni into her lap.

"You got kicked out of class for debating hell?" Derek asks in the middle of Stiles' story.

"Yeah," Stiles says casually. "I get kicked out of class a lot."

Peter smiles at that and Cora snorts.

"What'd you say?" Derek asks.

"That arguably, hell is probably full of party people and if she really thought gay people went to hell, I'd fast track my happy ass down there for the orgy." He then looks up at Talia and David, seemingly horrified at what he'd said, but they're both smiling, too happy that Derek had actually spoken to someone of his own volition to care.

Peter, however, almost chokes on his potatoes. Cora stomps on his foot under the table and sends a glare his way. He doesn't need her warning, he didn't say anything, but it certainly made him think. His interest in Stiles had been purely academic at first, but the more he watches the boy, the more they talk, and the more he sees...he can't help but want. It's interesting to know that he at least shares the same tendency toward males. Cora stomps on his foot again when he's been staring for a bit too long.

Something Peter notices throughout dinner though, other than how Stiles is apparently charming the pants off his family, is his scent. It's not bad, not by a long shot, but it's...different. There's the undercurrent of medication, which Peter is used to, but there's something else, like ozone and electricity after a storm. Most people aren't like that. They have a base scent that shifts a bit with moods, but nothing like Stiles' and Peter wonders for the first time if Stiles is completely human.

-

Stiles is an accident, Cora decides. She hadn't meant to invite him over, she just had. She hadn't meant to start sitting with him in all of the classes they shared, but she did. She hadn't meant for him to join her at lunch, but that happened, too. Which led to Lydia Martin of all people setting her tray drown next to Cora, opposite of Stiles. They glance at each other before turning to Lydia.

"Can I help you?" Stiles asks, confused.

"Yes, actually. Why aren't you in AP calculus?" Lydia says.

"Uh..."

"I saw your work on Mrs. Collins' board after class," Lydia says. "Have you had your IQ tested?"

"Yes," Stiles says slowly.

"And?" she asks.

"Why?" Stiles asks.

Lydia sighs, like this is all very boring to her.

"Lydia's a genius," Cora says, all of this also is very boring to her. "She likes to scope out competition."

"This school is weird," Stiles says. "168, okay?" Lydia looks startled. "What?"

"My IQ is 170," she says. Her eyes narrow. "Looks like someone finally is useful at this school."

She gathers her tray and goes back to the table with Jackson and his friends.

"What was that?" Stiles asks, bewildered.

"Lydia is competitive and likes attention," Cora says will and eye roll. Stiles shrugs and goes back to his lunch, but Jackson is glaring over at him behind Stiles. Cora glares right back.

-

Peter isn't a fan of Deaton at all. The man is cryptic and a dick. Talia likes to point out that Peter is too, which does nothing to soothe Peter's worries at all. He knows his motivations revolve around the safety of the pack. He doesn't know where Deaton's are. So when the man shows up at their house one night, Peter isn't exactly thrilled.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?" he drawls.

"Talia is expecting me," Deaton says, calm as ever. Peter hates that about him.

"Peter," Talia says, coming up behind him and pulling him from the doorway.

"Thank you," Deaton says.

Peter follows them to her study. She sighs but doesn't bother to make him leave, knowing he would just eavesdrop anyway.

"There's a new hunter family moving to the area," Deaton says without preamble. Talia's eyes narrow. "Christopher and Victoria Argent, and their daughter."

"Why? We've done nothing," Talia says.

"Supposedly, Christopher cut off contact with his father," Deaton says. "They seem to be wanting to start over."

"And that just so happens to be in Beacon Hills," Peter says flatly.

"He did live here in high school," Deaton says.

"Do you believe they're here in peace?" Talia asks.

"I wouldn't put money one way or the other, but I don't believe they're here to cause problems," Deaton says.

"Nonetheless, I'll need to pay them a visit when they arrive," Talia says. "I don't want my children raised around hunters."

"They do have a code," Deaton points out. Peter snorts in derision. "And the Argents are well-respected in the hunting community."

"In the hunting community," Talia stresses. "That means nothing for us and the safety of my pack."

Peter tries not to look smug.

"I need you to keep your eyes open," Talia says to Peter when Deaton leaves. "It's not fair of me to ask you, you're so young..."

"It's my job Talia," Peter says. "And I'm fine doing it."

"It will be your job," Talia reminds him. "After college."

Peter rolls his eyes but doesn't fight her on it.

-

After that first family dinner, Stiles becomes more ingrained in the Hales' lives. He's over most days after school, either studying or hanging out with Cora, Laura, and Peter. Even Derek's started to come down once in a while when they're all watching a movie. Peter even caught Derek cracking a smile at their game of Cards Against Humanity, even though he didn't join. Satomi's therapist recommendation seems to be doing wonders, but Peter also considers the possibility of Stiles' presence helping.

Cora hadn't been happy about it, but eventually her aunt Marissa and uncle Aaron were bound to meet Stiles. And with them, came their three kids, Matthew, Cameron, and Kelly, as well as the distant cousin they took in, Rob. Matthew and Cameron, twins aged six, immediately pounce, seeing a new person to give them attention. Kelly is four and shy, hiding behind her mom's leg and smiling slightly at Stiles. Peter doesn't blame her. It took her months to warm to Rob, and he was living with them. Rob instantly dislikes Stiles, which Peter isn't shocked at. Rob hates everyone. Peter doesn't really blame him; it can't be easy being uprooted from your home thanks to your mother's addiction and sent across the country to live with family you've met only a handful of times. Being 13 doesn't help. He's outright hostile to Stiles at first, but Stiles seems to not notice nor care.

It takes almost a month for the sheriff to notice that Stiles has new friends, and Peter is decidedly unimpressed. Apparently, he'd visited Talia at her office at work and introduced himself, apologizing for not doing so sooner, but he's been busy, you see. Talia had invited him to dinner. Stiles is toned down that night with his dad at dinner, which all of them notice. Stiles shrugs when Peter asks about it.

"My dad...has dealt with a lot because of me," Stiles says uncomfortably. "I try not to make it worse, you know?"

Before Peter can ask what he means, the rest of the family plus sheriff pours into the living room for board games. Parenting skills aside, Peter is happy to see that the sheriff looks genuinely happy that Stiles has found people. So at least that's something.

It's a Monday that Peter skips his fourth period class and goes to Cora and Stiles' lunch and finds them deep in conversation by Cora's locker. Peter claps a friendly hand on Stiles' shoulder when he walks up and the effect is instantaneous. Stiles jerks away, scent immediately souring with pain. Cora looks at Peter with fire in her eyes, but Peter is just confused. He'd barely touched the boy, hadn't he...?

"Stiles!" Cora says. "Are you okay? What the hell?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't - did I hurt you?" Peter asks, horrified at himself.

"Nothing, it's not your fault," Stiles says immediately. "I just have a bruise already, that's all - ouch, Cora what the hell?!"

Cora leans forward and jerks the collar of Stiles' shirt down, ripping it a bit in the process, to show a huge, purple and yellow bruise on his shoulder.

"How the hell did you get that?" Cora demands.

Stiles shifts uncomfortably.

"Nothing, I just bumped into a locker," Stiles says. At Peter and Cora's unimpressed looks, he sheepishly adds, "That I was...encouraged to hit."

"Who?" Cora demands, eyes blazing.

"It doesn't matter," Stiles says, shrugging her off and pulling his shirt back up over his shoulder.

"Is it Jackson?" Cora asks.

"Cora, leave it alone, please? It really doesn't matter," Stiles says.

"So that's a yes," Peter says.

"Oh my god, he's mad that Lydia is talking to me, okay?" Stiles asks. "Which is fucking stupid because she just wants to compare homework and talk shop." The bell rings then, which is good because it masks Cora and Peter's twin growls. "Look, I need to get to English, I'll talk to you guys later," Stiles says, and weaves away through the crowded halls without another word.

Cora turns to Peter and Peter doesn't have to say anything to know they're both not going to their next class.

They find Jackson behind the school, lounging on the bleachers by the lacrosse field with a few of his jock friends. They sit up a little straighter when they see Cora and Peter heading their way. The Hales have a bit of a reputation.

"Leave," Cora says to his two friends. Jackson glares daggers at the boys as they all but run away.

"What do you want?" he asks.

Cora doesn't wait for him to stay anything, just slams her fist into his stomach. Jackson doubles over in pain, gasping for air. Peter yanks on his hair, pulling him up to look into both of their faces.

"Touch Stiles again, and next time we're breaking ribs," Peter says.

"I didn't do shit, I don't care what that little fag said - " Jackson starts.

Cora punches him again and this time, Peter can hear something crack. Good.

"Let's try that again," Peter says pleasantly. "If Stiles has any more bruises, any pain, any indication at all that you're not staying away from him, I'll let Cora break whatever she wants."

Cora grins.

"He's going after my girlfriend," Jackson grits out.

"You really don't know when to shut up," Cora says, flicking him in the forehead.

"Lydia merely enjoys intellectual conversation with someone who can keep up, something I'm sure you've never managed," Peter says. "Let me reiterate, since learning doesn't seem to be your forte. Mistreat Stiles, and we'll be back. Got it?"

Jackson glares, but Peter and Cora refuse to leave until he mutters out, "Fine."

"Good boy," Cora says, patting him on the head.

The next day, Jackson makes himself scarce whenever he sees Stiles. Stiles side eyes Peter and Cora, but doesn't say anything. He does give them both a hug at the end of the school day, and Peter realizes it's the first time he's seen Stiles initiate physical contact with them. He never shies away when a Hale touches him, but he's never gone out of his way before. Interesting. Peter makes it a point to touch him more; a brush to the arm when he walks by, a hand on the arm, a hug. Cora notices and starts, too. Peter thinks she's trying to one up him at first, but realizes she probably just noticed the same thing he had and wants to scent mark her friend. Might as well claim Stiles for all supernatural and humans alike to know.

-

Because Cora's life is actually going well for once, of course something bad has to happen. There's a kid in her and Stiles' economics class, a really dim guy named Jacob, who seems incapable of keeping his mouth shut. Normally, Cora can tune him out because really, what does she care about what he's saying about Beacon Hills' unwashed masses? Then she hears Derek's name.

" - heard he killed that bitch. Poor Paige, didn't know what she was signing up for - "

Cora's out of her seat before she can even think about it. Rage is coursing through her veins and she can barely see, she's so angry. All she wants to do is break the bastard's neck, how dare he!

"Whoa!" Stiles says, jumping in front of Cora, blocking Jacob from her vision. He grabs her and turns her by the shoulders, shaking her a little. "Put the claws away! Eyes!" he hisses, making sure she's blocked from view.

Cora looks up at his and realizes he's right. Her eyes are gold, her claws are out, and fangs have dropped. She closes her eyes and lets Stiles take her hands, aiming them toward his body so no one can see. Stiles is murmuring low and urgently about anchors, and pulling back the shift, and that pulls Cora back, because how the fuck does Stiles know this?

"Hale! Bilinski! What's going on?" Coach Finstock calls from the front of the room.

"Jacob used a sexist slur," Stiles calls out.

"What?" Jacob shouts. "I did not, that dumbass - "

"Coleman!" Finstock shouts, interrupting Jacob. "You usually don't defend yourself against calling someone names by calling someone a name!"

"But she - "

"Get it under control, Hale," Finstock says. "Or step outside."

"I'll take her to get some air," Stiles says.

"No, Bilinski!"

But Stiles is already dragging Cora from the room, away from prying eyes. Cora pulls back the shift and lets Stiles drag her to an empty classroom.

"What the hell was that?" Stiles hisses. "I know you have better control over your wolf than that."

Cora stares at him blankly for a seconds before saying, "How the hell do you know about me?"

"Your family isn't exactly subtle with all the scenting and extra senses. Plus, Matthew grew sideburns when he sneezed a month ago," Stiles says.

Cora frowns, then grabs Stiles by the wrist, dragging him out of the room.

"We're going home, we need to talk to my mom," she says.

"What? Why?" Stiles says, heartbeat kicking up.

"Because a non-pack member knows about us and that's dangerous," she says, pulling him through the school. She pulls her phone out and starts to text Laura, Derek, and Peter to meet her at home, emergency, when the smell of Stiles' hurt registers. She stops and looks at him. He's trying to hide it, but the scent blooming from him doesn't lie. "Stiles..."

"You really think I would hurt you guys?" he asks, voice small and Cora feels like an ass.

"No," she says. "But this is dangerous. And my mom is in charge-"

"Alpha," Stiles mutters. "Yeah I know."

"And she needs to know," Cora says.

"Whatever," Stiles says, walking by Cora toward the parking lot. "You're welcome for keeping you from outing yourself, by the way."

She jogs to catch up with Stiles, both of them not saying anything on the drive home.

-

Peter knows Cora very well, better than probably anyone in the family, and she isn't an alarmist. So when he gets a mass text that says Meet at home. Emergency., he drops everything, feigns illness, and meets Derek and Laura in front of the school in less than five minutes.

"Do you know what she's talking about?" Laura asks.

"No," Peter says. "Derek?"

Derek shakes his head.

They drive together, because Cora hadn't said what the emergency is, or if it's dangerous, and they'd rather be together just in case. When they get home, Stiles' jeep is in the driveway. They glance at each other before going inside. In the living room are Stiles and Cora, along with Talia and David. Stiles is looking very uncomfortable and smelling of hurt and misery.

"What's going on?" Peter asks, then looks at Stiles. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Stiles says shortly.

"Please, sit down," Talia says. Laura, Derek, and Peter do, taking seats in the living room. "It seems that Stiles is aware of werewolves."

Derek and Laura's jaws drop. David and Cora both look worried. Peter isn't exactly surprised. Stiles is smart, if he hadn't figured it out already, he had the feeling he would soon.

"Tell us what happened," David says gently, seeming to sense that Stiles is on the edge right now.

"This guy said something bad about Derek," Cora says. Derek doesn't react. "And I stood up and I guess...I kind of lost control. Stiles made sure no one saw and told me to get my shift under control."

Silence meets this and all eyes swivel to Stiles.

"Aren't you the clever one," Peter says. Stiles blushes.

"How is it that you know about us?" Talia asks.

"My best friend before I moved was bitten by a rogue alpha. I kind of had to figure out real quick what he was," Stiles says. "We got him an anchor, kept him from killing anyone. Fun times all around."

"But how did you know about us?" Talia asks.

"Gee, I don't know, maybe all the scenting, the flashing eyes, or kids sneezing and growing fangs and sideburns?" Stiles says irritably.

"You have to understand, Stiles. We guard this secret with our lives. There are hunters that would kill us simply for existing," Talia says. "Secrecy is paramount. Cora was right to bring this to our attention."

"Well, I'll just leave while you guys decide if I'm here to kill you all," Stiles says.

"Stiles," Cora tries, but Stiles brushes her off and walks out, all but slamming the front door behind him.

There's silence in the room, everyone deep in thought for a few moments before Cora stands and storms from the room. She ignores Talia calling her name and a few seconds later, her bedroom door slams. Talia sighs and rubs her temples.

"Fantastic," Talia says. "What now?"

For once, Peter isn't sure.

Chapter Text

As far as Peter can tell, Cora's mood doesn't improve for the rest of the week. Stiles is avoiding all of them as best he can, even skipping the classes he has with Cora. The teachers don't seem to care since someone isn't challenging them for once. Cora comes home from school each day and goes straight to her room, slamming the door behind her. Peter can't really blame Stiles for being upset, Cora had pretty much manhandled him in front of an inquisition. But Peter also knows that Stiles isn't stupid and should easily understand why they need to be cautious. Which means there's a variable Peter isn't seeing. He loves a mystery, and yet he hates not knowing things.

Friday night, Peter slips away after dinner and drives to the Stilinski house, parking a little down the street so Stiles doesn't see his car. Peter debates for a few minutes how stupid this idea is. Stiles clearly knows about werewolves and anchors, so it's not a stretch to assume he knows about wolfsbane. Peter honestly doesn't believe that Stiles is a threat to them though, so he gets out of his car and approaches the house.

The Stiliniski place is quiet. Only Stiles' jeep is in the driveway and there's only Stiles' heartbeat inside. Peter leaps lightly onto the roof, following the familiar heartbeat, and slides in the unlocked window to what turns out to be Stiles' room. Stiles is at his computer, headphones on, head bouncing along to whatever he's listening to. Peter watches, amused, until Stiles turns and sees him there. The boy shrieks and falls off his chair, landing on his ass.

"Peter fucking Hale!" Stiles shouts from the ground, glaring.

"You have the delicacy of a swan," Peter says with a smirk.

Stiles grumbles and pulls himself up.

"What are you doing here, Peter?" Stiles asks, arms crossed defensively.

"I wanted to talk to you alone," Peter says.

"Why, the grand inquisition wasn't enough?"

"That was a mistake," Peter says. Stiles glares suspiciously, but doesn't interrupt. "You know how dangerous life can be for us, so I know you know Cora had no choice but to tell Talia. But they didn't have to drag you in front of all of us and make you feel like we were interrogating you. You're our friend, Stiles. Our goal was to make sure we were safe."

Stiles deflates.

"I was stupid," Stiles murmurs. "I shouldn't have been offended. But it was like...I actually found people that like me for me, and they think I'm a threat. Even though I know you didn't, it was still...I don't know. I'd been having a hard day anyway and I just got offended."

"Will you call Cora?" Peter asks. "She's...not been herself." Stiles' scent sours with guilt. "Hey, none of that. She'll understand."

Stiles just shrugs.

"Yeah, I'll call her," Stiles says.

"Good," Peter says. "There's something else I want to ask you."

"Hit me," Stiles says.

"What exactly are you?" Peter asks.

Stiles goes completely still, face blank. If it weren't for his racing heart, he would look the epitome of calm.

"A sophomore," Stiles says jokingly, then wilts a little under Peter's stare.

"Stiles," Peter says, circling Stiles. "Let's not play games."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stiles says.

"You know what I just heard?" Peter asks. "Your heart trip over the words 'I don't know.'"

Stiles curses under his breath and for the first time, he looks actually fearful.

"This - I can't tell you," Stiles says. "Look, hunters come for you, right? Not just hunters come for me. I'll have witches and druids and darachs and...I can't."

"Shh," Peter says, placing a hand on the side of Stiles' neck when the boy gets dangerously close to hyperventilating. "I'm not here to hurt you, Stiles. You know me. You know I'm safe."

Stiles laughs a bit hysterically at that, which, rude.

"Peter, only an idiot wouldn't see you as dangerous," Stiles says. Peter isn't offended. In fact, it makes him preen a bit.

"Be that as it may, I'm not a danger to you," Peter says.

"That...that I believe," Stiles says.

"Good. Because I would never do anything to hurt you," Peter promises fervently.

Stiles looks at him for a few moments, that calculating look from their first meeting back, before he nods to himself.

"If I tell you this, you can't tell anyone. Not Cora, not Derek, not your alpha," Stiles says. "Are you capable of doing that?"

"Yes," Peter says immediately. "There are things Talia doesn't want to know, doesn't need to know."

"Swear to it," Stiles says, reaching out his hand. "Swear that you'll keep whatever I tell you between us."

An electric shock goes through Peter when he takes Stiles' hand and he somehow knows that this isn't just a mere promise. Stiles looks at him seriously and Peter nods.

"I swear to it," Peter says solemnly.

Stiles looks around the room, closing the windows and drapes.

"Is there anyone out there?" Stiles asks.

Peter focuses his hearing outside Stiles' house.

"Your neighbor is sleeping and no one else is home for at least a hundred and fifty feet," Peter says.

Stiles nods.

"I'm a spark," Stiles says quietly.

Peter's brain halts for a moment. He'd been expecting a mage, maybe, or a druid. Maybe, maybe some kind of fae, but a spark...A spark is unlimited potential. It's not held by the laws of physics, only by the imagination. But notoriously dangerous if they're untrained and Stiles, well, unless the sheriff is quite the actor, Stiles has no one around to train him.

"You're a spark," Peter says in awe.

"You know what that is?" Stiles asks. "Of course you do, dumb question."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you're sane?" Peter asks.

Stiles glares.

"Yes, thank you very much," he says.

"I can see why they'd be coming for you," Peter says, mostly to himself. "A spark with untapped potential..."

"What makes you think I'm untapped?" Stiles asks, cocking his head to the side.

"Do you have a teacher?" Peter asks. "I somehow doubt it's your father."

Stiles snorts.

"He has no idea. I got it from my mom," Stiles says. His scent reeks of sorrow, but his tone is calm and nearly detached. "She couldn't contain her power and it drove her insane. When she died, her power was added to mine."

Peter winces at his earlier comment about sanity.

"And that didn't hurt you?" Peter asks. "How?"

"I don't know," Stiles says with a shrug. "It just doesn't." Peter hums to himself and just stares at Stiles, who shifts uncomfortably. Stiles opens his mouth a few times before saying, "You're not...afraid of me?"

"No. If you were going to hurt me, you would have by now," Peter says simply. "Your secret is safe with me, Stiles. This is no one's business but your own."

Stiles slumps in relief. Peter squeezes Stiles' shoulder, smiling at the other boy.

"You're just happy to be right," Stiles says with a huff. Peter snorts, but doesn't disagree. "Do...do you want to see?"

Before Peter can rein in his response, he's nodding eagerly. Stiles smiles slightly and steps back. He closes his eyes briefly and when they open, they're bright gold. Not gold like a beta werewolf, but pure, molten gold. His skin glows pure white, whiter and whiter until Peter needs to shield his eyes. There's blood rushing in his ears and he's about to call out, when the light disappears and Stiles is standing there, a pizza in his hands. Peter stares blankly, then laughs so hard his sides hurt.

"You absolute little shit," Peter says fondly. "Did you just summon a pizza?"

"This isn't Harry Potter," Stiles says. "Buuut yes. Pizza?"

They eat dinner and finish the movie Stiles had been watching. Stiles insists that Peter leaves through the front door (spoilsport) and Peter surprises them both by leaning in and kissing Stiles on the cheek.

"Remember to call Cora," Peter says.

Stiles nods, looking dazed but pleased. Peter drives off feeling satisfied and content.

When he gets home, Cora is in the living room watching TV with Laura. She pulls him aside as soon as he gets in and hugs him tightly.

"I don't know what you did, but thank you," Cora said, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder.

Peter scents her back, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

"You're welcome."

-

"I am so bored," Cora groans. She and Stiles are lying on the floor of his living room, Peter and Laura taking up space on the couch.

"Finish your homework," Laura says.

"Sure, mom, I'll get right on that," Cora says.

Lately, it's getting harder and harder for Peter to control himself around Stiles. Since Peter had visited him the other week, Stiles has been a lot more tactile. Peter's not sure if Stiles is aware he's doing it, or if he's just becoming comfortable enough that he's finally relaxing more. He doesn't shy away from the others, but he definitely touches Cora and Peter more than anything else. Peter has to rein in his wolf, which wants to snarl at the way Cora and Stiles' scents are starting to entwine. He reminds himself that they're only friends. That Cora exclusively likes women, and Stiles, as far as he knows, is only into men. Even more than that, Peter has no claim to Stiles, despite what he and his wolf want.

"Where's Derek?" Stiles asks, not taking his eyes off the game he's playing on his phone, one hand lightly wrapped around Peter's ankle. Two seconds later, the phone slips and hits him in the face. Cora laughs.

"He's out with a friend," Laura says.

Cora drops her phone on her face this time. They all stare at Laura in shock.

"He - really?" Cora asks. "Who?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask. I was just happy he's actually leaving the house," Laura says.

Peter frowns a bit at that. As far as he knows, the only people Derek spends time with are Boyd, Erica, and Isaac. And sure, he could easily be out with one of them, but the fact that he didn't say that...He looks down and sees the same look on Stiles' face. He glances up and makes eye contact with Peter and he knows they're both on the same page.

That night, after the Hales have gone home. Peter texts Stiles.

To: Stiles Stilinski
Are you coming with me when I follow Derek after school tomorrow?

The reply comes less than a minute later.

From: Stiles Stilinski
You fucking know it.

Peter finds Stiles after their last classes the next day and they climb into Stiles' jeep, watching Derek wave off his sisters and walk toward another car, glancing around like he doesn't want to be seen. He gets in and even Peter can't see through the dark tinted windows. Stiles doesn't need to be told to follow them.

Maybe it's a side effect of being a sheriff's son, but Stiles is disturbingly good at tailing people. He stays a few cars behind, sometimes in a different lane. He even takes a side street at one point when he knows he can keep an eye on them. When he sees there's no other place the road can go besides the all but abandoned park at the edge of Beacon Hills, Stiles stops a few blocks away, both of them watching the car enter the overgrown parking lot.

Peter and Stiles keep downwind from where Peter can hear Derek and the other person (a female) talking. He's vaguely concerned that Derek will hear his heartbeat, but Derek's never really been that great at focusing on things like that. Peter will have to remedy that soon. As the get closer, Peter can make out more of what's being said.

"But sweetie," the voice simpers, and Peter's eyes narrow because it isn't the voice of a high school girl. "It's not that I don't want to meet your family, I just don't think they'd approve. Especially with what we get up to."

"They want me to be happy," Derek says. "You make me happy."

Stiles makes a face next to Peter. When they creep closer and Derek still doesn't hear them, Peter suddenly knows why. It's faint, and something Derek wouldn't recognize, but he smells a wisp of a rare strain of wolfsbane in the air, a strain that weakens and dulls the senses but in such a way that it's hard to even notice until it's in full effect.

It's not a girl sitting next to Derek on the small merry-go-round, but a full-grown woman. She's probably mid-twenties with dirty blonde hair and a smile on her face that Peter knows. It's sweet on top, but is cruel and full of promise. He would know, he has one just like it. He also knows that face and it makes his insides burn with fury. She reaches out and caresses Derek's face before leaning in and kissing him. This is apparently way to much for Stiles.

"Nope!" Stiles says and flings himself from their spot behind the bushes. Peter groans, but follows. Stiles is stomping through the overgrown weeds towards them and the woman pulls away, putting some distance between her and Derek. She looks shocked for a second, but the next moment it's gone, replaced with a look of lazy indifference. "Absolutely not! Hell fucking no, Madam Bad Touch!"

"Stiles? Peter? What are you doing here?" Derek asks.

"I think that's a question you should be asking yourself nephew," Peter says, keeping his eyes on Kate Argent.

"Derek and I are just having a little chat," Kate says innocently.

Peter doesn't buy it for a second and by the way Stiles snorts, he doesn't either.

"Okay, Mary Kay Letourneau, sure. Aren't you the substitute home economics teacher?" Stiles says. Kate frowns at him. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Our families have no quarrel with each other," Kate says carefully, not overtly mentioning the supernatural in front of someone she isn't sure the species of.

"Oh, we just might now," Peter says, his eyes flashing.

"Clearly this is a bad time, Derek," Kate says, deciding that ignoring Stiles and Peter is the best course of action (stupid, in Peter's book). "We'll talk later."

"The hell you will," Stiles snarls. He marches between them and wrenches Kate's hand from Derek's arm. Kate makes a move, Peter isn't sure to do what, but Stiles shoves her back hard enough that she stumbles, shocked that Stiles has that kind of strength. Only Peter sees the flash of gold in Stiles' eyes. Kate sends them a dirty look but walks away, leaving Derek to deal with them.

"What was that for?" Derek asks. "She's my...friend."

"She's an adult! A teacher! That's...that's rape, not friendship!" Stiles says. Derek flinches and Peter's fears are confirmed. He feels sick.

"I like her," Derek says.

"She's a hunter!" Stiles says. "Wake up and smell the wolfsbane!"

"She's different!" Derek protests. "She doesn't want to do that anymore. She likes me for me and doesn't care what I've done!"

Stiles just throws his hands in the air in exasperation.

"We're going home," Peter says calmly, though every instinct in his body is telling him to follow the Argent woman and rip her to shreds. "Come, Derek."

It's a true testament to the seriousness of the moment that Stiles doesn't even make a dog joke at that. Derek follows Peter and Stiles morosely to the jeep. He doesn't say anything as Stiles drives them to the Hale house. He doesn't try to follow them in, just grasps Derek's shoulder.

"Derek, dude, listen to me, okay?" Stiles says and waits until Derek looks at him. "I'm not trying to be mean to you or anything. I love the shit out of you, you're one of my best friends in the entire world. And I'm not okay with someone taking advantage of my best friends. Okay? If it were me, or Cora, or Laura, you would be horrified for us, right?"

Derek just shrugs but lets Stiles hug him before following Peter inside. Stiles looks on from the car, waiting until they're inside to drive away.

"Hey! Where have you guys been - whoa, what's wrong?" Laura asks when they walk into the living room. Peter and Derek ignore her and head straight to the back of the house to Talia's study.

"Peter, Derek," Talia says warily when Peter locks the door behind them. "What's going on?"

"Derek has something to tell you," Peter says. Derek glares at him. "If you don't, you know I will."

Derek looks down, refusing to meet their eyes.

"Derek?" Talia says softly. She walks around her desk and draws him onto the love seat she has set up by the fireplace. "Come on, sweetheart, what is it? You can tell me anything."

"It's not a big deal," Derek mumbles. "Peter and Stiles...don't like my new friend." Peter clears his throat loudly and Derek flinches, making Talia send him a dirty look. Peter's beyond caring. "My-my girlfriend," Derek whispers. Peter closes his eyes.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend," Talia says. "Why don't they like her?"

Derek shrugs again.

"His 'girlfriend' is Kate Argent," Peter says.

Derek flinches at the vitriol in his voice. Talia stills next to Derek, her hand pausing where it was rubbing his back.

"Kate Argent is 25 years old," Talia says, voice very carefully calm. "And from a notorious hunting family. Derek, is this true?"

"Yes," Derek says quietly.

The air rushes out of Talia and she yanks her son forward, crushing her to him in a hug. Derek hugs her back, small sobs wracking his body. Peter thinks deep down that Derek knows what Kate's doing is wrong, that he knows she's dangerous, but he doesn't care either because he thinks he deserves to be punished, or he just needs someone that badly.

"How did you find out?" Talia asks, still hugging Derek.

"Stiles and I followed Derek from school when he got in a strange car," Peter says. "They were at the park at the end of 5th and she kissed him and insinuated more."

Talia's eyes flash red. She pulls away to look at Derek in the eye.

"Derek, this is important," she says. "Has she touched you in any way? Have you two been intimate?" Derek tries to look away but Talia won't let him. "Derek. Honey, you aren't in trouble and we're not mad at you. We just want to make sure you're okay."

"We've had sex," Derek says quietly.

The stench of blood fills the room and Peter realizes it's because his claws are digging into the palms of his hands. Talia is soothing Derek, whose body is shaking again. Peter moves to excuse himself, his part being done, but Talia calls out.

"Peter," she says. "Set up a meeting with Chris Argent. We're going to need to have a little chat."

Peter grins and he knows it's the smile he and Kate Argent share.

Chapter Text

Talia and David whisk Derek off to his therapist not long after Peter leaves the study. Cora and Laura are in the living room by then, along with Aaron, Marissa, and the kids, who are over from the other house further in the preserve. Derek and Talia walk quickly by them on their way out the door, Derek's head down. They all see the dried tear tracks on his face.

"What happened?" Laura asks as soon as they drive away.

"It's not my place to tell," Peter says.

"But you know, don't you?" Cora asks. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Peter says honestly. "I hope so. I have something to do, I'll be back later."

"Can I go?" Cora asks. Peter gives her a look. "Fine, fine. Take me with you the next time you break legs, though."

"I'm not the mafia, Cora."

"That's not a no."

"No, that's not a no."

He'd actually like to take Cora with him. She has quite the talent of putting the fear of god into people. He'll talk to Talia about it next time, though he doubts she'll say yes.

Peter decides to try Chris' office first, not quite wanting to risk Kate being at the house when he confronts Chris. He can't guarantee he won't try to rip her goddamn throat out. Chris' office is in the downtown part of Beacon Hills. It's late enough that the receptionist has gone home, so Peter just waltzes by her desk and right the Chris' office.

"Argent," Peter says.

To his credit, Chris doesn't jump, merely looks up with raised eyebrows.

"Hale," he says warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Talia wants to meet with you," Peter says. Normally he'd like to tease Chris, see how much he could irritate the other man, but today he isn't in the mood.

"Why?" Chris asks.

"You didn't tell us your sister's in town," Peter says. "Which, by the way, is a violation of the treaty we have set up."

Chris looks at him calculatingly, probably annoyed to be talked down to by a kid twenty years younger than him.

"What does Kate have to do with this?" Chris asks.

"To start with, she's been sleeping with my nephew," Peter says. Chris does startle at that. "Which, as you very well know, is rape."

"Kate wouldn't..."

"She would," Peter says. "We both know this."

Chris lets out a harsh breath and rubs his temples.

"When does Talia want to meet?" he asks.

"She's taken Derek to an emergency therapy session. Trauma, you know," Peter says and Chris winces. "So tomorrow. We'll find you."

"Peter," Chris says as Peter turns to leave. "You know I would never condone her doing...this."

"Will you condemn her though?" Peter says. "That's the question that matters, Christopher."

He leaves before Chris can say anything.

Peter doesn't go straight home, he can't. He's too worked up, too angry. He knows Chris Argent, he knows he's a relatively good man and wouldn't go along with this, but he's still angry at the family. Argents are poison, seeping in and rooting out everything that the supernatural community tries so hard to protect. It doesn't matter that Chris and his wife have broken from Gerard, he let sentimentality affect him by allowing his sister into their lives, and she is well-known for being one of the craziest of the bunch.

The steering wheel creaks ominously under Peter's hands and he has to fight to pull in his claws and rein in his strength. He doesn't even realize he's driving to Stiles' on autopilot until he's parking in front of the boy's house. After a few deep breaths, he walks up the driveway and knocks. It takes a few moments for Stiles to get to the door from his bedroom and when he does his eyes widen in surprise.

"You used the front door," he says. "You never use the front door."

Peter just shrugs.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, dude of course," Stiles says and steps aside.

As soon as the door is closed, Peter turns around and pulls Stiles into a bone-crushing hug, burying his face in the boy's neck. Stiles stiffens for a second in shock, but relaxes quickly enough, wrapping his arms around Peter tightly. A high whine escapes Peter but he can't help it.

"I should have been watching closer," Peter mumbles. "I should have known another Argent was here. She's in our school and I didn't even notice. I should have seen the change in Derek."

"This is not your fault," Stiles says, running his hand through Peter's hair. "This is on her, not on you. You can't be expected to know everything."

"It's my job to know everything," Peter mumbles against Stiles' skin. "I'm Talia's enforcer. It's my job to see threats and eliminate them before they can hurt the pack. I failed."

"Listen to me," Stiles says, pulling back and placing his hands on Peter's shoulders. "What's done is done. She did this, not you. All we can do now is support Derek." Peter shrugs. Intellectually, he knows Stiles is right. But the part of his brain that's hooked into his pack knows he should have done better. "We should tell my dad. He can arrest her for statutory rape."

"We can't," Peter says immediately. "It's too big of a risk of exposure. No, we deal with this ourselves. And I promise you, our justice will be much more satisfying than anything the courts can do."

"Good," Stiles says viciously. "I came so close to just blasting her away, but I figured murder isn't the best way to go."

"I'm partial to it," Peter says. Stiles snorts.

"Text your family that you're staying over tonight," Stiles says. Peter raises an eyebrow. "You're upset, I'm upset. You can't talk about it to any of them about it. And I need cuddles."

Peter can't fault him there. He texts Talia that he'll be home tomorrow and she just tells him to stay safe. He and Stiles crawl into bed, Stiles assuring him that the sheriff is on nights this week and won't be home until the next day. They lie wrapped around each other, taking what comfort they can from each other and giving it back. Peter ends up with his face buried in Stiles' neck, mourning for the loss of his nephew's innocence. Stiles runs hands up and down Peter's back. He smells like home and Peter wonders when he started thinking of Stiles as pack.

-

"Kate's gone," Chris says when he walks up to Peter and Talia. They're at the park where Stiles and Peter first saw Kate and Derek. It seems fitting.

"What do you mean?" Talia asks.

"When I went home, all of her bags were packed and she was gone," Chris says. "I don't know where she went."

"You lost her?" Peter says. "Well isn't that convenient."

"Why is she even here?" Talia asks. "The agreement was that you would ask permission before inviting more hunters into my territory. You were allowed here due to your rejection of Gerard Argent's ideals, then you invite his biggest supporter to our home."

"By biggest supporter, she means zealot," Peter supplies. Talia shoots him a look and he sighs but doesn't say anything else.

"I didn't warn her," Chris says. "Your children confronting her gave her the heads up she needed to get away."

"Don't blame Peter for this," Talia growls. "Your sister molested my son. Why? What did she want from him? We both know Argents don't willingly consort with 'monsters'."

Chris winces a bit at that, but doesn't deny it.

"She isn't welcome with us, I'll make sure she knows it," Chris promises.

"That's not enough," Talia says. "We will hunt her down. And when we find her, we'll kill her."

Chris looks a bit like he wants to protest, but he knows his code. He knows exactly what she has violated, not only in humans laws, but in the hunters' as well.

"You're lucky we aren't asking for your family's heads as well," Peter says. "We are well within our right to."

"Do not threaten my family. Victoria and Allison had nothing to do with this," Chris says.

"Did you?" Talia asks.

"No," Chris says, eyes hard. "Do what you will, I won't stand in your way."

"If you bring any more hunters to my home, I'll slaughter you all," Talia promises. Chris looks at her steadily before giving her a tight nod.

Talia waits until Chris' car is gone before sagging a bit. Peter grips her shoulder, offering what little support he can. It's times like this, times when diplomacy is necessary and he can't just tear his way through problems, that remind him why he doesn't want to be an alpha, not really.

"We need to close ranks," Talia says tiredly. "No one goes anywhere alone until this is sorted out. Keep an eye on Stiles, too. If she knows who he is, especially since it's the two of you that caught her, he might be in the cross hairs."

Peter's lip lifts in a silent snarl and knows he'll do whatever necessary to keep his family and Stiles safe.

-

While Laura and Derek keep driving together, Cora starts riding with Peter to school. They pick up Stiles along the way because neither of them want him alone, even if it's just the ride to school. Stiles reminds Peter that he's a spark and could probably disintegrate Kate if he wanted to, but Peter doesn't care and collects him everyday in the morning and drives him home after. Sometimes he and Cora will stay for a bit if the sheriff isn't home, or bring him back to the Hale house. It's during one of these times that Derek comes down from his room and pulls Stiles aside. Peter isn't sure what's said, but he and Derek both come back down smelling like tears and hug each other for a long time before Stiles leaves.

Talia, David, and Peter spend a lot of time looking for Kate. They go over receipts, dig into all their contacts, and patrol the preserve, but they can only cover so much ground. All evidence points to Kate never having left Beacon Hills, which is making the pack more and more nervous. Talia had given everyone the very basics of what had happened, being as discreet as possible, but everyone caught on quickly, and everyone was livid. Marissa and Aaron's kids were blissfully unaware, merely told that there was a dangerous woman, but Rob reads between the lines and his usually angry face grows even darker.

It turns out Peter didn't need to search for Kate. She comes for him. He and Stiles are leaving school early, planning on running to Deaton's to see if they can rifle through his books while the emissary is at the Hale house talking to Talia. They make it to Peter's car when Stiles suddenly shouts his name. Peter swirls in time to see an arrow pierce Stiles' shoulder, dropping the boy. A second later, he's hit, the wolfsbane from the arrowhead working quickly. Still, he manages to stagger over to Stiles and see that he's alive, but unconscious.

"Stiles," Peter groans. The world is blackening at the corners. He collapses next to Stiles, head cracking on the concrete. "You gotta get up, need to run..."

Black boots appear in his line of vision right before everything fades out.

When Peter opens his eyes, he's surprised to even be alive. He'd been sure that his number was up, that he was going to die there in the parking lot staring at Stiles' unconscious body. His chest aches where he was shot and he can feel that the wolfsbane was burned out of him, which makes no sense at all. He takes a second to take in his surroundings. He's shirtless and chained to a metal fence with jumper cables connected to the metal. There's only a low current going through them now, but it's enough to keep him weak and sluggish. Glancing around confirms what his hearing already told him; Stiles isn't in the room (whatever room this is, warehouse maybe?). He can hear his heartbeat somewhere, but he can't pinpoint where and it isn't close enough that Peter can talk to him.

The door creaks open and Peter drops his head to his chest, sagging his body weight and letting the chains hold him up. There's the clicking of heels and the dragging of a chair, then his shin is being kicked.

"I know you're awake," Kate says. "Nice effort, though. You're not the first to try it. Your little friend gave a stirring performance."

Peter looks up then, eyes flashing at her.

"What did you do to him?" Peter asks.

"Nothing yet," Kate says. "That'll change easily enough.

"What do you want? What's the point of this?" Peter demands.

Kate stands and hums, hovering by the generator that's supplying the electricity to the fence Peter's chained to. She twists a dial and the electricity surges through Peter, causing him to seize and shake against the chain link fence. She leaves it that way for a good thirty seconds before turning it back on low.

"Derek was my way in, and you and your little human traitor royally screwed that up," Kate says. "So since I can't bring the fire to them, I'll bring them to the fire."

Peter's insides go cold.

"What, you really think my pack is that stupid? They know a trap when they see one and they're not going to come here just to die," Peter says, trying to act as aloof as possible.

"They'll come for their pack member and little token human," Kate says confidently. "You mutts are something else with your loyalty."

Before he can say anything, Kate's turning the electricity back up and walks out, leaving him like that. He fights back a scream as it courses through his body, slowly frying him from the inside out. He does let out a roar when he hears Stiles scream from somewhere in the warehouse. Peter yanks at the chains, willing the shift to come over him, trying desperately to break away and get to Stiles, but he's too weak. All he can do is writhe in pain to the sound of Stiles' shouts.

Stiles is suddenly silent. Peter fears the worst, unable to hear if Stiles' heart is still beating over the blood rushing in his own ears. Then there's an explosion, the entire ground shaking with it. The chair Kate had been sitting in is knocked over, as is the table with the generator on it. Whatever happens when it hits the ground ramps up the voltage even higher. Peter can't help it anymore, he screams himself hoarse. He's dying, he knows he is. Not even a werewolf body can stand this. He's going to die, and he's never going to know if Stiles lived.

Then the current suddenly stops. Peter doesn't know if it's in time, he's still shaking and realizes he can't feel his limbs, only a numb tingling and pain. He manages to open his eyes when he realizes someone is in front of him, shaking him.

"Come on Peter, come on, you have to be okay!"

It's Stiles, Peter realizes. He fights to stop the shaking and focus on the face swimming in front of him. There's a cut near him temple, he's still sluggishly bleeding from the shoulder, and Peter can smell more blood on him under his nearly shredded shirt.

"Come on, we have to go," Stiles says, pulling up and draping one of Peter's arms over his shoulders.

"What's going on?" Peter asks (slurs).

"I may have accidentally set off Kate's explosives," Stiles says, dragging Peter to the warehouse door.

"May have?"

"Okay, I did," Stiles says. "But she started it!"

Stiles half carries Peter through the door and into the labyrinth that is the warehouse. Every door they open either goes to another hallway or a room already engulfed in fire.

"Fuck, fuck, okay, we got this," Stiles says. They're starting to sweat, the heat from the fire and smoke getting to them. Another explosion rocks behind them, more flames surging. "Come on, gotta go!"

They're half running, as fast and Peter's abused body can keep up with, until they reach a door that goes outside. The only problem is it's surrounded by flames.

"Peter, I'm really sorry about this," Stiles says, disentangling himself from the werewolf.

"Sorry about what?" Peter asks.

Stiles just steps back and pushes his hands out in front of him, his eyes glowing gold and hands surrounded by gold light. Peter is thrown through the air, crashing through the front door and outside of the warehouse. Bones snap and Peter groans, rolling over enough to see Stiles through the burning door frame, collapsed to his knees. He smiles weakly when he sees that Peter got out.

"Stiles," Peter hisses. "Stiles, run..."

Peter tries to get up, tries so hard but the fall broke one of his legs and his body just won't answer to him.

"Please, Stiles..."

There's howling behind him and suddenly Talia is there followed by David and Laura. Even Aaron and pacifist Marissa are there, along with Cora and a few other pack members.

"Stiles is inside," Peter gasps out when Talia and David crouch next to him. "Kate was, Kate...Get him out, he's there, please..."

Before Talia can move or say anything, Derek and Cora are running into the burning warehouse.

"No, Derek, Cora!" Talia screams, watching the flames lick at their skin. They keep running until the smoke obscures them. Talia and David rush forward, screaming for their children. There's silence for a beat, then Cora and Derek emerge from the fire, Stiles' limp form supported between them.

"Is he breathing?" Talia asks, rushing forward.

"He's breathing, barely," Cora says. The lay him down next to Peter and Peter chokes to see that Stiles' right side from his neck down to his torso, probably more, is burned. Cora and Derek have their own burns, though they're slowly healing. Talia immediately takes what pain she can from Stiles, checking his pulse even though she can hear it there, weak and thready, but there.

"Call 911, he needs paramedics!" Talia shouts. Marissa already has her phone out and is frantically speaking to the operator. Peter knows that only half of her panic is fake, amped up to make the responders think she's too hysterical to answer any in-depth questions.

"They're coming!" she calls back.

Peter's leg has healed enough that he can sit up and look down at Stiles. The burns aren't pretty, but they could be a lot worse. He'll definitely scar, but hopefully there won't be permanent muscle damage.

"Why did you do that?" Peter asks the unconscious boy.

"What'd he do?" Talia asks gently.

"He got me out," Peter says. "He sacrificed himself to get me out."

"How?" Talia asks.

Peter doesn't know what to tell her so he says nothing, just stares down at Stiles to make sure he's still breathing. He's fully prepared to demand that Talia to give Stiles the bite if his body starts to fail him, but then they hear sirens.

"Peter, they police are almost here, we need to get you away from here," Talia says.

"I'm not leaving him," Peter snarls.

"We can't let them see you healing!" Talia says. "We will watch over him, I promise, but you need to go before they make you go to the hospital and discover you can heal broken bones in less than an hour! As your alpha, I am ordering you to go back to the house with David and Derek."

Peter glances to where David and Derek are standing, Derek looking down at Stiles with concern and horror.

"Go, we have him," Cora says. When none of them move, she flashes her eyes and growls, "Go!"

David takes Peter by one arm and Derek takes the other, hauling him up away from Stiles. Peter knows that they have to, but he hates them for it a little bit. They help him away from the warehouse, away from the sirens, and away from Stiles. His last view before they round the corner is Cora leaning over Stiles, his hand clutched in hers, with tears staining her cheeks.

Chapter Text

Cora's in hell. Her best friend is at her feet, passed out and burned. His breathing is getting stronger, his heart still beating, but she's still freaking out. Humans are so vulnerable, so breakable, and all she can think is what if they hadn't made it in time? What if Laura hadn't seen Peter and Stiles hauled into a van? When they got Kate's message, they knew without a doubt it was a trap, but they couldn't just leave them there. They expected an army, or to be shot immediately, something. They hadn't expected the place to already be on fire, wolfsbane in the air, and Peter lying broken in front of the building. Her heart had stopped when she saw Stiles inside, collapsing to his knees. She hadn't hesitated, neither had Derek. They were fast enough that the flames barely licked their skin. It hurt, and there were burns for sure, but it didn't matter. They needed to get to Stiles.

Now, she doesn't know if they were quick enough. His face is mostly spared, but there are burns from his neck down his arm and side. She doesn't know how bad they are, she has no experience with human injuries outside of her cousin Cameron. And he's never had anything more than a broken arm. She almost shrieks when Stiles stirs, his hand grasping at hers.

"Eyes, Cora," he mumbles. Cora snorts out a wet laugh. "Put 'em away."

She pulls back the gold in her eyes, not realizing they'd been flashing.

"You're gonna be okay, the paramedics are almost here," she promises.

Stiles groans.

"Man, my dad'll be pissed," he moans.

"He'll be happy you're alive," Cora says.

"Mmm," Stiles hummed and started to close his eyes.

"No! No no Stiles, open your eyes, don't fall asleep. I think that's bad, isn't it?" Cora says.

"I dunno, never been burned," Stiles mumbles, then is out.

The ambulance pulls up a second later, followed by squad cars and fire trucks. The sheriff is out of his car like a shot, running to where Cora and Talia are hunched over Stiles.

"Medic!" he shouts, then drops to his knees next to Stiles. "Stiles? Come on son, wake up."

"He was awake a second ago," Cora says to the paramedic. "He was talking, he - he's going to be okay, right?"

"Please miss, give us room to work," one of them says. The other pulls her aside, starting to ask her and the sheriff questions about what happened and his medical history.

"He's on adderall, that's it," the sheriff says, not looking away from where the paramedic is working on his son.

"How long was he in there?" the medic asks Cora.

"I don't know, we got here and he was already out," Cora says, hoping her family hears her lie and goes along with the story. "Please, tell me he'll be okay."

"We're taking him to the hospital, they'll be able to evaluate him better," the paramedic says.

The sheriff rides in the ambulance, clutching his son's hand while the Hales watch the door close and the ambulance drive away.

The next few hours are blur. They're all asked question after question. They were walking in the area and saw the fire. No, they don't know what happened. No, they aren't aware of anyone else in the building. If the cops sense their lies, they say nothing. They're finally allowed to go to the hospital, the cops driving Talia and Cora. The rest of them head home to check on Peter. The hospital won't let anyone in the room, saying they need it to be sterile. The sheriff is in the waiting room and they carefully sit close to him, unsure of their welcome.

"Is this because you're werewolves?" the sheriff asks quietly. Talia and Cora startle, staring at him. "Please. Stiles told me about werewolves long before we moved here."

"Did he tell you about us?" Talia asks.

"I figured it out. I'm the sheriff for a reason."

"This isn't because of us," Cora says hotly. "This is because a psycho kidnapped them because she couldn't get to our family through my brother, who's underage, by the way."

The sheriff's eyes go hard at that.

"Where is this 'psycho' now?" he asks.

"Hopefully burned to a crisp," Cora says coldly.

The sheriff says nothing but just nods.

"You could come to me, you know," he says.

"And do what, get a restraining order?" Talia asks. "When she comes for us, we can just wave a little piece of paper around?"

The sheriff sighs and is about to answer, but a nurse comes out and tells him he can visit Stiles. He doesn't spare them another look, just gets up quickly and follows him out.

"I'm scared," Cora says quietly.

"I know, honey," Talia says. She doesn't promise it will be okay. She can't.

It takes a few hours for Peter to show up, having finally healed and washed the smoke and soot from his body.

"How is he?" Peter asks as soon as he arrives.

"They won't tell us," Cora says. "His dad's been back there for a while."

"All we can do is wait, Peter," Talia says.

Peter nods and takes a seat next to Cora, wrapping an arm around her when she rests her head on his shoulder. He eventually falls asleep, stress and exhaustion taking their toll, and Cora follows soon after.

-

They're finally allowed in the next day. Stiles' burns aren't nearly as bad as Peter had been thinking; the doctors expect minimal scarring, but still, burns are never good. Peter and Cora slip in past visiting hours when the sheriff has to leave for work, then awkwardly hide in the bathroom when a nurse comes in to check on Stiles. Stiles is awake when they come back out, looking highly amused.

"Shut up," Cora huffs. "How are you? Any pain?"

"They got me on the good morphine so I am a-okay," Stiles says, grinning like an idiot.

"Excellent, I love loopy Stiles," Cora says.

She and Peter pull up chairs next to Stiles bed. Peter can't keep his eyes from straying to Stiles' bandages for longer than a few minutes.

"What's going through that noggin?" Stiles asks, pushing at the creased between Peter's brows.

Peter bats Stiles' hand away gently, even though he would love nothing more than for Stiles to keep touching him.

"We should have been able to keep you safe," Peter says.

"Oh my god, stooooop with the guilt already. I'm the one that put a target on our backs by marching up to Kate Argent in the first place," Stiles says.

"It's not your fault," Peter says automatically.

"Well ain't that the pot calling the kettle black," Stiles says.

"What even happened?" Cora asks. "Peter's been too useless worrying for us to get an actual story out of him." Peter lifts his lip in a quiet snarl. "What, it's true?"

"Well, we both got a little bit shot," Stiles says conversationally. "I dunno what she was doing with Peter, but she beat me up a little bit, which is embarrassing. She villain monologued and was planning on luring that pack into the warehouse to get us, sealing it with mountain ash, and burning us all alive."

Cora flinches, eyes wide and horrified.

"How'd you get out?"

"I lit her explosives before she wanted them lit. I did a boom boom POW!" Stiles says and claps his hands together. As soon as they touch, light fills the room, little sparks shooting from his fingers. Cora scrambles away, staring at Stiles in wonder and a little bit of fear.

"What the fuck!"

"Stiles, you're in the hospital," Peter hisses. "Put it away!"

"You're no fun," Stiles says with a pout, but the light fades away. "I mean, I kinda meant to blow her up, but I missed and hit her little bomb instead, so the fire is kind of my bad."

"What the fuck?" Cora says again. "What are you? How did you - what?"

"I'm a spark," Stiles sings. "I'm a sparky sparkly spaaaarrrrk."

"Okay sparky, hush," Peter says, glancing at the door. "Secret spark, remember?"

"Oh yeah...hey Cora, this is super secret okay, so shhhh!" Stiles says in a mock whisper.

"You know?" she asks Peter.

"Yes," Peter says.

"And you didn't tell me?" she asks Stiles, sounding hurt.

"Hey, no no no, I wasn't playing favorites!"

"I told you not to steal my best friend," Cora says, punching Peter in the shoulder.

"I love you both! Just in different ways!" Stiles says.

"Right, you're my apparently magical best friend and are gonna go ride off into the sunset with Peter and it'll be just me losing my favorite uncle and my best friend but that's fine, whatever," Cora grumbles.

"No!" Stiles says, struggling to lean up and grab her hand. She and Peter both push him back down. "I mean, I'm down for riding off into the sunset, but you're my main bitch! I could never - you're my favorite!"

Coral looks very near tears.

"You're not allowed to do that again, then," she says, slapping his non-injured hand. "I can't lose you, okay?"

"Yes ma'am," Stiles says weakly. "I think the morphine is kicking in again, I'm gonna pass out for a bit if it's all the...same to..."

And he's out like a light, lightly snoring almost immediately.

"I can't believe you're in love with Stilinski," Cora says, shaking her head.

"Who says I am?" Peter asks.

"The way your heart just went haywire, and what it did when he said he was okay with riding off into the sunset with you," Cora says. Peter glares, regretting his choice in her being his favorite. "I mean, he's obviously on board."

"I promised not to take your friend, Cora," Peter says. "I'm not going to make you upset over a - a crush."

Cora rolls her eyes spectacularly at that.

"We both know it's not a little crush," she says as if he's being deliberately stupid. Maybe he is. "Just don't be an ass about it, okay? If you guys break up, I don't want to never see him again."

Peter doesn't bother to pretend to be offended. He has a reputation as a womanizer (and manizer? He's an equal opportunist) and he knows it. But Stiles is different. It sound ridiculous and like a bad country song, but he is something completely new.

"Okay," Peter says.

They stay with Stiles all night, up until the sheriff gets there in the morning and shoos them out, saying they still have to go to school.

-

No one seemed too miffed that Stiles had basically burned Kate alive. Ah well. Her body is found, charred and black. When Stiles gets back to school, he gets three shadows in the forms of Derek, Cora, and Peter. Derek had come to Stiles' hospital bed right before he got discharged and sobbed, begging for Stiles' forgiveness, that he didn't know, and thanking him for getting Kate away. Since then, Derek has been around almost as much as Cora and Peter, who had trouble at first sharing their time. Stiles had appreciated it when he was recuperating, and he appreciates it even more now, because people stare at school. He'd expected it, Peter knows, but it still sucks.

There are whispers all over the school about what happened and honestly, Peter doesn't blame them. Stiles' body is a mass of bruises and the shiny burn scars on his arm and neck stand out in the crowd. His left arm in a sling thanks to the arrow hole in his shoulder doesn't help. The scars won't be awful, the doctors promise, but they definitely are still there. Stiles is considering seeing about getting them tattooed over when he's older. Some kids are saying that the sheriff beat his son (Peter doesn't repeat that rumor to Stiles) while others say it was someone attacking Stiles in revenge for the sheriff arresting someone. No one comes close to the truth, that Stiles was hurt being a hero. And as much as it sets Peter's teeth on edge, he can't do anything about it. If anyone has noticed their substitute home economics teacher disappeared the same time that Stiles got hurt, they either haven't put it together yet or have been really quiet about it.

Only one person laughs at Stiles, and shockingly, it's Jackson. Apparently he's stupid enough to forget his encounter with the Hales. Before Cora can rip out his intestines, surprisingly, Lydia is smacking him in the head with her book, a huge math tome, hard enough that his eyes cross for a second. She tells him to "stop being such a neanderthal" and escorts Stiles to his next class. Jackson isn't seen around Lydia much after that and Peter wonders if that's the straw that finally broke the camel's back in their ridiculous relationship.

Peter thinks everything might actually be okay. That is, until Chris Argent shows up at their doorstep one night a few weeks after Kate's death.

"Well, well, look what crawled onto our doorstep," Peter drawls.

"I'm here to speak to your alpha," Chris says.

"Why?"

"That's between us," Chris says.

"And it's up to me if I let you in to see her or not," Peter says.

"I don't have time to deal with a child," Chris growls. "Gerard is coming so take me to your damn alpha."

Peter looks at him critically for a moment then jerks his head, motioning for Chris to come inside. Talia isn't in her study for once, instead helping David with dinner. She comes out of the kitchen immediately when Peter calls for her though.

"We have a guest," he says. "And apparently, we're going to be getting more."

"Not here. Come to my office," Talia says, glancing around at the pack's curious faces. They file into her office, closing the soundproof door. "What's going on?"

"Gerard is coming," Chris says without preamble. Talia narrows her eyes dangerously. "He wasn't invited. He knows Kate is missing and he knows she was here last. I told him not to come and that this territory is stable, but he won't listen."

"I told you what would happen if more hunters come to my town," Talia says.

"How many is he bringing with him?" Peter asks.

"I don't know," Chris says. "A lot."

"What about Kate? Does he knows she's dead?" Talia asks.

"I don't know."

"What do you know?" Peter asks.

"I came to warn you because I don't want anyone to get hurt," Chris snaps. "Gerard is my father and I am coming to you. I am choosing the side of the wolves I've been taught were my enemies my entire life. So your self righteousness can take a back seat for a while because I'm not here to fight."

"He's right, Peter," Talia says before Peter can answer. "What do you suggest?"

"He will probably ask for a parlay," Chris says. "Don't do it."

"Refuse a peace meeting? Why?" Talia asks.

"Do you remember a wolf named Deucalion?" Chris asks.

"Yes, we were allies years ago before his pack moved on," Talia says. "What's the got to do with anything?"

"His pack didn't just move on. Gerard called them to a peace meeting and attacked them, slaughtered them all but Deucalion. He blinded him and left him to die," Chris says. "I can guarantee he will do worse to you if he even suspects you had something to do with Kate, which I'm sure he does."

"And you?" Peter asks. "What are you going to do knowing that we had something to do with Kate."

"Nothing," Chris says softly. "Kate was the monster, not you."

Chapter Text

Stiles freaks out a little bit when he hears Gerard is coming to town.

"Granddaddy hunter? As is the guardian of all supernatural bigotry? He's coming to Beacon Hills?" Stiles asks when Cora breaks the news.

"Yeah," Cora says. "Stiles, it'll be okay."

"Okay?" Stiles asks hysterically. "Last time Peter and I were kidnapped and almost burned alive!"

"To be fair, you set the fire," Cora says. Stiles throws his notebook at her. "Okay, okay! Jeez. Look, you can stay with us. We're all safer together. We'll be ready for anything."

"I can't just leave my dad," Stiles says and shakes his head. "No, I'll batten down the hatches and stay here. You should make sure your emissary is up-to-date on your wards."

"Wards?" Cora asks.

Stiles looks at her incredulously.

"Yes, wards. Protection runes, ringing any bells?" Stiles asks. Cora just looks at him blankly. "Oh good god."

"What?" Cora asks.

"Any emissary worth anything is able to at least do basic protection wards that alert the alpha if anyone enters their territory," Stiles says. "Really strong ones can ward a house to the nines and basically make it impregnable."

"Oh..." Cora says. "I don't know. I mean, mom doesn't exactly share everything with us, but I feel like she'd have told us if she has a supernatural alarm system. I'll have to ask Peter."

"Ask Peter what?" Peter asks, walking in the front door (he's taken to strolling into Stiles' home like it's his own). Cora and Stiles look up from where they're hunched over the kitchen table. "What's going on?"

"Do you know if Deaton has any kind of protection on the house?" Cora asks.

"Protection?"

"Wards, runes, anything like that?" Stiles asks.

"Not that I know of," Peter says. "I can ask Talia though. Why?"

"He definitely should," Stiles says. "Any emissary worth anything does."

Peter frowns.

"Just exactly how vulnerable would we be if he doesn't have anything up?" Peter asks.

Stiles blows out a breath.

"Dude, I've got basic stuff around my house. Burglar deterrents, alerts when someone dangerous is close, even something that can temporarily freeze anyone inside that shouldn't be here," Stiles says. "If he doesn't have even the bare bones on your place, I'd seriously consider have a claw-to-heart talk with him."

"Why Stiles, you're absolutely vicious," Peter says, delighted.

"Look, you've said you don't trust Deaton, right?"

"I don't," Peter says.

"And you?" Stiles asks Cora.

"I don't really deal with him much. Mom trusts him, but I trust Peter's judgement I think...he has a knack for people," Cora says. Peter tries not to preen.

"Ask Talia about wards and have her bring it up to him. If he has nothing up, he better have a damn good explanation as to why," Stiles says.

"How did we not know this is a thing?" Cora asks. "All Peter does is read!"

"There are books that non-magic users can't even read," Stiles says. "Things stay secret for a reason."

Peter, who's basically in charge of the security of the pack, wonders just how vulnerable they are.

-

Gerard arrives in town the Friday before spring break starts. Cora only knows this because in the middle of their math class, she smells wolfsbane. She freezes, her pencil dropping from her hand. Stiles looks over at her, alarm on his face at whatever he sees on hers.

"Cora?" he asks under his breath while Mrs. Collins drones on at the front of the room. "What is it?"

"Someone has wolfsbane close by," she whispers back.

"Is there something you need to share?" Mrs. Collins calls to them, her sour face worse than normal.

"Nope," Stiles says. "Just enjoying the wonderful world of math."

Cora snorts under her breath, but the wolfsbane is stronger than she thought and she immediately starts coughing. She glances around, wondering if it's being filtered in through the vents, when she hears the footsteps outside the door. The smell gets stronger the closer they get, as if whoever it is bathed in wolfsbane that morning. They stop right outside the math door and knock. Mrs. Collins looks frustrated but tells a kid in the front to open the door. Cora does her best to stop her coughing, holding her breath.

"Mrs. Collins," the principal says when the door opens. Mrs. Collins looks visibly surprised to see him there. "This is Mr. Argent, Ms. Argent's father. He would like to have a word with the class about her disappearance."

The principal looks about as happy as a dog getting neutered about having Gerard there, and Mrs. Collins doesn't look much better, but she lets him walk to the front of the class. The man is old and slow, but Cora knows better than to assume he's weak. It's a front, she knows, that a lot of hunters use to throw off their prey. Prey, she scoffs. As if wolves spent any of their lives as prey.

"Good afternoon," Gerard says, voice slimy. No one answers him back. The class is sitting up straighter, as if they know the man in front of them is dangerous, but they aren't sure why their animal hind brain is telling them so. "I'm sure some of you took home economics and know my daughter. She has been missing for quite a few weeks now, and none of the local authorities seem to be doing much on that front."

He looks right at Stiles when he says that. Stiles stares right back at him, chin lifted and defiant.

"I would like to encourage any student with information to step forward. We wouldn't want anything...unfortunate to happen to anyone else."

"Okay then," the principal cut in. "If you have any information about Ms. Argent's disappearance, please report it to the police as soon as possible."

"Report it to me," Gerard says.

"The police," the principal says firmly, though he looks unhappy to be under the older man' scrutiny.

Gerard gives a pointed look to Cora and Stiles before turning on his heel and walking out after the principal. Cora lets out a harsh breath, coughing violently as soon as the door is closed. Stiles thumps her on the back and she feels a bit of tingling that she thinks might be his spark helping to force the wolfsbane from her system.

"Are you all right, Miss Hale?" Mrs. Collins calls, sounding like she couldn't care less.

"Swallowed wrong," Cora gasps out. "Fine."

"Then get back to work."

Stiles is texting furiously under his desk and a few seconds later, Cora's phone buzzes. Stiles has messaged Peter, Derek, Laura, and Cora in a group message.

From: Stiles
Gerard just came to our classroom. Cora coughing from wolfsbane, getting better. Be aware.

From: Laura
What?!?! What did he want?

From: Stiles
He basically threatened us all for info about where Kate went. He knows, the way he looked right at us, he has to know.

From: Peter
Stay put after class. Laura and I are a few rooms down, we'll grab Derek then come get you.

From: Derek
We can't go home. What if he wants to flush us all into one place?

From: Laura
We'll all go to Cora and Stiles' lunch period and deal with it then. For right now, just stay alert.

From: Stiles
If you hear footsteps, hold your breath. Cora's coughing fit was gnarly.

Cora barely pays attention to the rest of the lesson. Her nose and throat are burning from the wolfsbane she'd breathed in, but whatever Stiles did when he rubbed her back seems to helping her body naturally expel the poison. She's lucky that Stiles absently takes notes and will help her out later with any work they go over.

Cora and Stiles pack up as slowly as they can. Mrs. Collins doesn't pay them any mind, sweeping out of the room before anyone else. Peter and Laura arrive a few minutes later, Derek behind them. Peter immediately is over and pulls Cora into a hug. He tilts her head up, listening to her breathing and checking for any sign of a rash.

"Come on," he says when he's done.

They follow Peter to the courtyard. It's early spring, so there are a few students scattered outside. Enough to stop Gerard from coming in guns blazing if he decided to, at least Cora hopes.

"Tell us exactly what he said," Peter says.

Stiles does, as best he can (which is a lot better than Cora could have done). By the end, Peter and Laura are both looking worried. Derek is looking and smelling incredibly guilty.

"It's not your fault," Stiles says abruptly, interrupting whatever Laura and Peter were arguing about. They all look at him, then at Derek, who just shrugs. "They were aiming for your family and would have gotten in one way or another. At least this way we can see them coming."

"If I hadn't - "

"No," Peter says firmly. "An adult took advantage of you. None of this is your fault."

"Dr. Mason says that too," Derek says.

"She's right," Peter says.

"Do we go home?" Cora asks. "It's...exposed here. It's too easy to get one of us alone."

"Call your mom," Peter asks. "See what she wants us to do. If we stay, we're vulnerable. If we leave, they could follow us. I'm sure they know where we live anyway, but still."

Cora pulls out her phone and dials her mom. She has to call twice until she answers the phone.

"What is it?" Talia asks.

"Rude," Cora mutters. "Gerard is here."

"Where? At your school?"

"Yeah. He came into our class and basically threatened everyone for information about Kate."

"And had airborne wolfsbane that gave Cora one hell of a coughing fit!" Stiles says, leaning in to the receiver. Cora pushes him away, mouthing 'tattletale!'.

"Are you hurt?" Talia asks.

"I'm fine. I'm with Laura, Derek, Stiles, and Peter. What do you want us to do? Stay here or go home?"

Talia hums and Cora can picture her frown on the other end of the line.

"We can't leave Stiles either way," Peter says. "There's no way Gerard doesn't know he's associated with us."

"Agreed," Talia says.

"Here," Stiles says, making grabby hands for the phone. Cora hands it over. "Talia, it's Stiles. Do you guys have wards on your house?"

"What?"

"Did Deaton put protection wards up? Any runes, sigils?" Stiles asks.

"No, should he have?" Talia asks.

"Absolutely," Stiles says. "We'll go back to my house. It's protected way more than yours is at the moment."

"I want to talk to you more about this," she says. "I'll be over as soon as I can. Stay safe. I love you all."

They chorus back their I love yous and head toward the front of the school. They stop to look around and make sure they can't smell Gerard anywhere before hurrying out and piling into Stiles' jeep. Cora takes the passenger seat, making Peter, Laura, and Derek squish into the back. She's still coughing a bit and no one argues with her.

"He's watching us," Cora says suddenly. She nods out the side window and sure enough, there is Gerard, watching from a classroom window.

"Let him watch," Stiles says. "He can't do shit right now but try to scare teenagers."

Stiles waves cheerily at Gerard, who glares, and backs his jeep out. He doesn't bother losing the tail they have. They know who he is, they know where he lives, it's not like they won't assume he's going there. They hustle inside and as soon as the door is closed, Stiles pulls out a knife from his pocket and cuts his arm, then smears the blood on his hand and presses it again the closed door. A tingle rushes through Cora the second his hand makes contact.

"What the hell was that?" Laura asks, shivering slightly.

"Those were the wards going up," Stiles says.

"And what does that mean?" Laura asks.

"It's like a magical barrier. Nothing can get in unless I want it to," Stiles says.

Derek and Laura stare at him, eyes wide.

"Magical?" Derek asks. "You can, you're magic?"

"Are you a wizard, Harry?" Laura asks, voice deceptively light.

"No," Stiles says. "I'd just rather go into it when your mom gets here. What matters right now is that we're as safe as we're going to get in Beacon Hills."

"You two aren't shocked. Why aren't you two shocked?" Laura demands of Cora and Peter. They glance at each other before shrugging.

"He told me," Peter says.

"Me, too," Cora says. "Though he had to be drugged up to do it."

"Hey, I was planning on it!"

"Sure."

"Were you ever planning on telling us?" Derek asks.

Stiles looks uncomfortable.

"Not unless I had to," he finally says.

"You know about us, but you don't trust us to do the same?" Laura asks.

"It isn't about that!" Stiles says. "It's dangerous."

"Right, and we know nothing about danger," Derek says sarcastically.

"It's dangerous knowledge to have," Stiles says. "It's not that I don't trust you, it's that one tiny slip up, one mention of it is so goddamn dangerous I can't even describe...look. You know S-scott?"

"The best friend that was bitten that you never want to talk about?" Laura says. "Yeah, you've mentioned him."

"Do you really think I would just abandon my best friend and move across the state? Do you think I would have been like, okay good luck with the hunters, peace out?" Stiles says, his voice scathing. "Scott's dead."

Cora's hit with the overwhelming stench of sadness and guilt rolling off of Stiles so strongly that she nearly gags.

"You've never said that," Laura says softly.

"Shockingly, it isn't something I like to think about," Stiles says. "Scott knew about me and because of that, a witch took him and tortured him to get to me. By the time I got there, he was on her alter and had already bled out."

"Stiles," Derek says softly, reaching out. Stiles lets himself be pulled into a hug, but only half-heartedly returns it. "I'm so sorry. We didn't know."

"I know," Stiles says. "That as kind of the point of moving here."

"What happened to her?" Peter asks.

"What?" Stiles asks.

"The witch, what happened to her?" Peter asks.

Stiles looks him in the eye, his face hard and void of emotion.

"She died," he says coldly.

For the first time, Cora sees Stiles as a predator.

Chapter Text

Talia isn't happy when she tries to open the Stlinskis' front door and bumps into a wall of air. The look on her face when Stiles opens the door is one Peter will treasure for years. Stiles looks a bit sheepish, but not regretful at all.

"What the hell was that?" she asks as soon as she's in.

"That's a basic protection ward," Stiles says. "Something that should really be on your house."

"You're saying that Deaton knows how to do this and he didn't offer?" Talia says.

"Either that or he doesn't know how and is a shit emissary," Stiles says.

"He's a druid," Talia says.

"Then he should absolutely know," Stiles says.

Talia frowns, troubled by this. Peter isn't exactly shocked. His distaste for the man has never been hidden, but Talia has always dismissed his concern, saying Deaton is a friend and ally. Peter finds it in him to not say I told you so.

"I can put up some basic ones," Stiles says. "It'll take a few hours and I'll need to be uninterrupted, though."

"How is it that you can do that?" Talia says. "You aren't a witch."

"I'm a spark," Stiles says. Talia just looks at him blankly and Peter sighs, knowing he's going to have to encourage his sister to read a little more. "I'm...a big bag of magic, basically."

"How's that different from a druid or mage?" Talia asks.

"He's not bound by the laws of physics or spells or the tricks Deaton does," Peter says. "Only by his will and imagination."

"That's possible?" Talia asks.

"Very," Peter says.

"And why is it that you knew before me?" Talia asks.

"Because I'm not your pack, and I can trust whoever I want with my secrets," Stiles says.

"You didn't need to know until now," Peter says.

Talia pinches the bridge of her nose.

"We're coming back to this," Talia says to Peter, who kindly doesn't mention that Cora knew, too. "What are you suggesting?"

"We need to get your house protected before Gerard gears up for an attack," Stiles says.

"And I think we should drop by Deaton's for a visit," Peter says. Talia glances at him and he knows he has the look on his face that Derek once called 'enforcer mania'. He's fine with it.

They split off, Derek, Laura, and Cora going with Stiles to the Hale house, and Peter and Talia going to pay Deaton a visit. Peter is expecting more cryptic bullshit that seems to be Deaton's M.O., but when they get to the clinic, Deaton isn't there. The entire place is trashed. Furniture is overturned, broken glass is everywhere, and the animals are howling in their cages.

"Gerard was here," Peter says. "I can smell the wolfsbane."

"So can I," Talia says. "But what does he want with Deaton?"

"Maybe he's under the impression that Deaton is actually useful," Peter mutters.

"I get it, you don't like Deaton," Talia snaps.

"I don't trust Deaton," Peter snaps back. "And you wouldn't listen to me and now look where we are."

"Just because Stiles says so - "

"Stiles is more powerful than Deaton will be in his dizziest daydreams. Is it so hard to believe that Deaton might want that power for himself? Or he might not even care about us?" Peter says. "I trust Stiles. He doesn't give us half truths and go on about balance bullshit. He's here for the people he cares about. Is Deaton?"

Talia says nothing, but her silence says enough.

They find no trace of Deaton so they head back to the house, frustrated and silent. Stiles is outside, tracing symbols on the foundation of the house. Derek stops him when Peter goes to talk to him,

"He said not to interrupt," Derek says. "That 'this shit is hard'."

"Is he okay?" Peter asks, watching the way Stiles seems to be swaying a bit when he stands up.

"I think he's exhausted," Derek admits. "Cora's making food for when he's done."

"Good," Peter says.

Derek, Laura, Peter, and David are all outside, watching Stiles' back while he works his runes. Peter's half convinced that Gerard and his hunters are going to burst through the trees at any time, that Stiles' protection comes too late and they're just sitting ducks. No one comes though and a few hours later, Stiles walks up to where Peter and Derek are standing and all but collapses into Peter's arms.

"We should be good for a bit,"Stiles says, not bothering to try to open his eyes. "I need to sleep for like a year."

"Cora made a roast, you need to eat first," Peter says.

"Strength, smength, I need sleeeeep," Stiles says.

"Food first, then sleep," Peter says.

It takes a lot of coaching, but they eventually get Stiles to eat enough for Peter to let him sleep. He lets Stiles take his room and if that happens to mean that his room will smell like his scent mixed with Stiles', well, that's neither here nor there.

"My dad won't come," Stiles slurs when he's situated under the blankets.

"What?" Peter asks.

"I told my dad to come here and stay safe," Stiles says. "But he won't. He says as long as there are dangerous people in Beacon Hills, it's his job to make sure people stay safe."

"Sounds like you," Peter says.

"He's a lot more noble than me," Stiles says. "I don't care about the general public, just my people."

"I'm glad to be your people," Peter says.

"Me too."

Stiles drifts off to sleep soon after and if Peter stays, watching the lines of Stiles' face smooth out in sleep, that's his own business.

It's two days of walking on eggshells before anything happens. Talia keeps the kids out of school and the sheriff calls Stiles out, citing a family emergency. They all stay hunkered down at the Hale house, waiting for news from Chris, or movement from Gerard, anything. So when their house shakes close to midnight on Friday, they're only mildly surprised. Everyone rushes to the windows, seeing Gerard and a group of a dozen hunters and...Deaton?

"I thought your wards were supposed to warn us when they come?" Peter asks Stiles, who looks pale and shaken.

"They have a darach," he whispers.

Peter looks out the window again and sees a woman standing next to Gerard, her eyes white and her hand out in front of her. Before Peter can say anything, Stiles is flinging open the front door and rushing out.

"Stiles!" Cora screams.

She and Peter run after him, ignoring Talia's cries to stay inside. Talia is out after them a second later, putting herself in front of them all. Stiles and the darach seem to be locked in some kind of silent battle, both of their eyes glowing brightly, hers white and Stiles' gold. Each will occasionally stagger or grunt, as if being hit by something no one else can see.

"This is a breach of our treaty, Gerard!" Talia calls out.

"So was harming my daughter," Gerard says.

"Your daughter raped my son," Talia says. "We were well within our rights."

"Lies," Gerard says. "She would never lie with a beast."

"Well, I've got some bad news for you," Peter drawls. "Your beast-lying daughter burned alive."

Gerard stares at Peter coldly, then waves his hand. The hunters all fire at once. Stiles' wards seem to hold though, the bullets losing velocity as they get closer before falling harmlessly at the Hales' feet.

"This isn't possible, you're not supposed to be warded," Gerard growls, glaring at Deaton.

"You won't get us here," Talia says. "You have nothing. Leave now."

"How does it feel, knowing your very own emissary betrayed you?" Gerard says, ignoring Talia's words.

"I didn't," Deaton says as calmly as a man can with his hands tied and face bloody.

"He did," Gerard says conversationally. "Why do you think you didn't know I was coming? Why do you think he never warded your home? Why he didn't tell you I had a druid of my own?"

"You conspired with Gerard?" Peter growls.

"I did not," Deaton says. "My job is to maintain the balance of power."

"Your job is to protect this pack!" Talia says.

"I'm a druid first, and an emissary second," Deaton says. "If they took out Stiles, who is too powerful to be allowed, you would retaliate and decimate them. And the balance would be restored."

"You're doing this all because of Stiles?" Cora hisses.

"This is the best for the pack," Deaton says.

Gerard is smirking and kicks the back of Deaton's knees, making the man fall to the ground.

"There you have it. Your great protector," Gerard sneers. He hits the back of Deaton's head with the butt of the gun, rendering the other man unconscious, and aims his gun at Stiles, who's still locked in a silent battle with the brunette at Gerard's side. "Let's see if he can protect himself while he's distracted, shall we?"

Peter roars but before Gerard can fire, the woman next to him shrieks and collapses to the ground, twitching and shaking.

"What is this?" she screams.

"I'm a spark, bitch," Stiles says. "You ain't got nothing on me."

The woman writhes and Peter watches, oddly fascinated, as her skin turns sallow and her body shrivels, aging before their eyes, until she's nothing but a husk of a person, taking her last breath. Gerard looks up at Stiles, finally fearful. Before either of them can make another move, an SUV comes careening down the driveway, skidding to a stop in front of the Hale house. Chris Argent is out and moving the second the car stops, gun up and aimed at Gerard.

"What the hell are you doing, boy?" Gerard says, voice cold. "You've started colluding with animals?"

"We aren't murderers. This isn't what we do," Chris says. "We have a code."

"Get to the porch, get to the porch," Stiles mutters.

"Why?" Peter hisses.

"He isn't inside the wards, I can't protect him out there," Stiles says.

Gerard seems to have had the same thought. He raises his gun to Chris and says, "Then I guess there's no use for you." He fires, hitting Chris in the arm. It would have been the chest if Chris has moved even a little bit slower. The hunters take that as their cue to fire at Chris, too, sending a barrage of bullet at where he's hiding behind his SUV.

"Damn it," Stiles groans. "Never thought I'd be out defending a hunter."

Stiles steps off the porch and Peter sighs. He hadn't either. He follows Stiles, throwing himself at the hunters while Stiles throws magic every which way. All in all, the confrontation is a bit anticlimactic. Peter, Talia, David, and Cora rip out a few throats before all the hunters drop, their necks simultaneously snapped. All but Gerard, who keeps firing at the wolves surrounding him. Mysteriously, all of the bullets seem to careen off course, not getting anywhere near their targets. He reloads and aims again but Talia is there, squeezing his throat with the claws of one hand, twisting away his gun with the other. She bares her teeth when he spits in her face.

"Kate died painfully," she hisses in his face, then tears out his throat. His limp, lifeless body falls at her feet, blood slowly oozing into the grass.

Stiles and Laura are crouched down by Chris, tying something around his arm to stop the bleeding. Trusting them to have it in hand, Peter pulls Cora inside the house. She goes willingly, letting him steer her to the kitchen sink. When she doesn't move, just continues to stare blankly at her bloody hands, Peter gently takes them and runs them under warm water, massaging soap over her skin and washing away the traces of hunter blood.

"This is your first time killing," Peter says. It isn't a question, but she nods anyway. "You did what you had to do to keep your pack safe."

"I don't feel bad about it," she says, letting Peter dry her hands. She looks at him with wide eyes and all he can see is his little baby niece who had crawled into his room at night when the monsters were coming in from the dark. "I should...I should feel something, right? But I'm just relieved...we're all okay, Stiles is okay. There's no more threat. But I should feel something, shouldn't I?"

Peter hums and pulls her in to a hug, wrapping her smaller frame up in his arms. She clings to him, letting out a big sigh when he rubs her back in soothing circles.

"I'm told you're supposed to," Peter says. "But I didn't feel anything when I killed for the pack the first time. Nothing but satisfaction."

"Am I crazy?" she asks. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"Is there something wrong with me?" Peter asks, then punches her lightly when she raises her eyebrows.

"Do you really want an answer to that?"

"Brat," he says fondly. "There's nothing wrong with you. It's part of protecting the pack. It's something that makes the pack safer and stronger."

"You do what Mom won't," Cora says.

Peter looks at her steadily and says, "Sometimes that's true."

"But it needs to be done," she says.

"Also true," Peter says.

"I want to help. I know the pack has you as an enforcer, but it isn't fair to make you bear that burden alone," she says. "Us? We'll never be alphas. We know the politics, but we have no patience for them. And we aren't good little foot soldiers. This is your place in the pack and I feel like...sometimes it feels like I don't have one."

Peter pulls her in again and hugs her tightly. It's a worry he's had himself. Some of the pack members are scared of him, some treat him like a pariah because of what he is. He says he doesn't care, but he resents it a little bit. He can't help it.

"You have a place, little one," he assures her. "We'll talk to you mom, okay? But you're her little girl, I don't see her being too happy about having you as a baby enforcer."

"Call me a baby enforcer and I'll punch you in the spleen," she says.

Peter just chuckles.

It's very likely that other wolves were listening in on their conversation, but when Peter and Cora walk back outside, no one stares at them awkwardly. That doesn't necessarily mean anything, but most are helping pile the bodies to be disposed of or picking up stray bullets so the kids don't get to them. What a weird day.

Talia, however, is standing over Deaton who is just regaining consciousness. Peter strolls to her side, staring down impassively at the vet at his feet.

"I did my duty," is all Deaton says.

"Not the duty you swore to me and my pack," Talia says.

Before Peter can ask if she wants him to end it, she's raising her claws and swiping them down, opening up Deaton's throat and letting him bleed out, adding to the swamp of blood in their grass. Peter sees Cora watching the light leave Deaton's eyes and knows that she, like him, feels no remorse at all.

Chapter Text

Talia doesn't ask Stiles to be the pack's new emissary at first. He just sort of...starts. He has Peter take him into the preserve and walk the territory's boundary lines. Peter doesn't know what Stiles does, but when he's done, a shiver goes through Peter and he suddenly feels even more connected to the territory and the pack land.

"What was that?" Peter asks.

"That was a stronger warding. You guys will be able to feel it when a supernatural thing comes into your pack territory now," Stiles says. "And your guys' nemeton...it likes me. So it's bonding with me more, and the land, and your pack."

"You keep saying 'your' pack," Peter says. "Do you really think you're not a part of it? You're basically acting as our emissary."

Stiles shrugs self-consciously.

"Your alpha never asked. I can't just assume..." Stiles says. "And I'm not really acting like your emissary, I'm just securing the territory."

"Right...and emissaries don't do that," Peter says sarcastically.

Stiles shoves him with his shoulder.

"You're such a little shit."

Peter knows he's right, though, and he thinks Stiles knows it, too. Peter ends up carrying Stiles on his back on their way back to the house, the trek through the preserve and subsequent warding having sapped most of Stiles' energy. No one is around when they get back, most of the pack either working or on a run. Peter carries Stiles right up the stairs and into his room, happy to re-saturate it with Stiles' scent. He lets Stiles down and the boy immediately crawls into Peter's bed, dragging the blankets up.

"Making yourself at home?" Peter asks dryly.

"Shut up and come here," Stiles says.

Peter sighs dramatically but toes off his shoes and slides into bed next to Stiles, happy that the other boy immediately rolls to rest against Peter's side. Peter wraps and arm around him and squeezes Stiles slightly. For someone who isn't a wolf, Stiles is extremely tactile, always happy to join in pack cuddle puddles. Maybe it's Peter's imagination, but Stiles always seems to do this with him more than the others, with the exception of Cora at times. He's always happy to burrow closer to Peter and rest against him, content with being held. Peter runs his hands up and down Stiles' arm, skirting the burn scars that are almost healed, but still twinge occasionally.

"Why don't you just heal these?" Peter asks softly. Stiles stiffens for a moment, but relaxes into Peter's arms when he just continues to gently stroke his skin.

"People would notice if I just suddenly didn't have scars from being in a fire. I don't need to attract more attention then I already have. And..." Stiles sounds a bit sheepish when he says, "I don't know how."

"Didn't you help heal Cora when she inhaled wolfsbane?" Peter asks.

"That was just kind of speeding up her own natural healing. I'm not really good with anything involving my own body. Like wards, helping other people, and killing, man I'm great. But...god it's dumb. Dude, it took me like five years to learn how to keep my eyes from being all glow-y," Stiles says, then hums. "Probably not good to be so cavalier about being good at killing people."

"If you're looking for a moral compass, you've come to the wrong person," Peter says.

"Yeah, but I like that about you," Stiles says. "You won't judge me, no matter how ugly and bad I get."

"Hey," Peter says, tilting Stiles' chin up so he meets Peter's eyes. "Nothing about you is bad or ugly. Understand me?" Stiles rolls his eyes, which makes Peter grip his chin harder. "Understand me?"

"Sure," Stiles says. "In your not-so-humble opinion?"

"Absolutely," Peter says. "Did you know Cora's math grade went up three letters since you met her?"

"Yeah?" Stiles says, confused at the change of topic.

"Did you know she scares off the tutors Talia had tried to bring in? Did you know she never really had a friend before you?" Peter asks.

"Uh, I guess?"

"How about that you're one of the only people that can get Derek to talk? Laura will actually discuss college with you when the rest of us get our heads bitten off?" Peter asks.

"Uh," Stiles says.

"You have entrenched yourself in this pack and family. There is nothing 'bad' or 'ugly' about you."

Stiles blushing magnificently and Peter can't help but lean in closer. He searches Stiles' face when they're just inches apart. Stiles licks his lips and nods. Peter is finally able to do what he's wanted to from the minute he met Stiles. He leans forward, kissing him softly, though he wolf wants him to push forward and claim. Stiles kisses him back hesitantly and Peter can tell he hasn't done this with many people. The thought makes something excited rise in Peter and he wants to absolutely ruin Stiles for anyone else.

"Wow," Stiles says when they part for breath. "That was...wow."

"Mmhmm," Peter says, nudging Stiles' nose with his own. "I've wanted to do that for months."

"Then by all means, do it again," Stiles says, grinning.

Peter does.

-

There are lots of stares and whispering the next day at school when students see Stiles and Peter walking down the hall hand-in-hand. One of Peter's ex-boyfriends tries to slap him, but Stiles catches his wrist, much to Peter's amusement, and shakes his head.

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me, darling," Peter says as the disgruntled boy walks away.

"I know," Stiles says. "But you can't tell me you wouldn't interfere is someone were aiming a punch at my face."

"True," Peter admits.

"So why'd he want to hit you?" Stiles asks.

"When I broke things off with him, I may have said that I'm not interested in dating anyone," Peter says.

"And now you changed your mind for little old me," Stiles says, fluttering his eyelashes, but Peter can tell he's pleased.

If the entire school hadn't known before that Stiles has been absorbed into the Hale clan, they certainly do now. Peter and Cora have always spent a lot of time with Stiles, but Derek and Laura start hanging out with them more, too. It isn't unusual to see Stiles with at least one Hale with him when walking to classes. In fact, it's stranger when someone sees Stiles alone. They're treating him like a new pack member, Peter realizes. Scenting him,wanting to be near him as much as possible...they're staking their claim. Peter doesn't know if Stiles is aware that the Hale kids have basically all peed around him in a circle. He doesn't know if Talia is aware either until she calls a pack meeting.

The whole pack is squished into the Hales' living room. It's not just their immediate family and Aaron, Marissa, and their kids; it's a meeting with the rest of the wolves scattered throughout Beacon Hills, about 25 in total. Even though the Hale house is huge, it's still cramped with that many people in the living room.

"Thank you for making the time to come," Talia says. Peter manages not to snort. As if any of them had any choice. "We all know what happened with Deaton and how he betrayed us." She waits patiently while mutterings go through the assembled wolves.

Peter's less patient.

"Your alpha is speaking," he says coldly. The murmurs stop immediately.

"I want to ask Stiles to be our new emissary and join our pack," Talia says.

The murmurs are back, this time louder. Some are in agreement, some uncomfortable, some downright angry.

"Why?" It's Rob who outright asks her, his teenage defiant streak rearing it's ugly head.

"You like Stiles," Laura points out.

"I mean why do we even need an emissary if the last one was so damn useless?" Rob asks.

Marissa lightly slaps him on the back of the head.

"Language."

"It's a valid question," Talia says. "All packs need an emissary. If we get a new one isn't up for debate. The question is do we ask Stiles."

"I'm good with that," Marissa says. A few others nod. Hardly the ringing endorsement Peter had been hoping for.

"We don't really know him," said Larry, a middle-aged man that lived in the city. "We know he's here a lot, and we've seen him around you, but most of us have only met him for a few minutes. It's hard to judge a person by that."

That's fair, Peter knows, but it still rankles him.

"I trust him. Talia trusts him," Peter says.

"Talia trusted Deaton," Rob points out, then looks away when Peter glares at him and Cora hisses.

"Larry makes a good point," Talia says. "I'd like to throw a pack get together next week over the break to celebrate spring. We'll invite him so you can meet him and see what you think."

"There will be no threatening or intimidation," Cora says, glaring at a few of the more emotion-prone pack members. "Stiles saved our lives and you should be thanking him on bended knee."

"That's enough," Talia says, not unkindly. "We are in his debt and he will be a guest and we will treat him as such, understood?"

There's a chorus of agreement and Talia nods and dismisses the pack. The ones that want to stay for dinner go to the kitchen to help with food and the rest head out. Talia pulls Peter aside before he can walk to the kitchen, too.

"What?" he asks a little harsher than he meant to. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes, Talia?"

"If Stiles accepts, he will be the pack's emissary, regardless of what there is between you two," Talia says.

Peter feels something in his gut clench in what feels like fear. Was she about to ban him from seeing Stiles for the good of the pack? Would she really do that to him, to them? He'd only just been able to...

"Peter," Talia interrupts his thoughts with a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you're thinking, relax. I'm merely stating that if the two of you are to break up, you'll need to be able to live with him being a part of our pack. Would you be able to do that?"

"Yes," Peter says immediately, because even if they aren't together, Peter can't imagine his life without Stiles in it.

"Okay," Talia says. "That's all I wanted to be sure of."

Peter nods and all but flees, joining David, Aaron, and Marissa in the kitchen to cook dinner. He's distracted all through preparation and throughout the meal, only half listening to whatever anyone is saying. It's stupid to worry. He has no intention of breaking up with Stiles. Not now, not ever if he can help it.

-

How Cora gets roped into helping Talia and Laura plan the pack get together, she'll never know. Event planning is not her jam. She doesn't care about food as long as it's edible. She doesn't care about drinks as long as there's water. She doesn't care about if people have places to sit. They have a huge yard, sit on the grass! They're werewolves, not the Queen of England! But Talia wouldn't hear about it, so she rented a bunch of chairs and one of those big white tents they use for outdoor weddings. Cora thinks it's going overboard for a spring party, but she's overruled. So instead of enjoying her first day of spring break, she's up at the crack of dawn that Saturday being ordered around by Laura to help her with food and getting everything set up.

"Make Derek help!" Cora whines.

"Derek's with Mom getting the tent," Laura says.

"And Peter?" Cora asks.

"He's going to get Stiles."

"Yeah, in like five hours!"

Luckily, Marissa comes over to help around 10:00 am and Cora gets some time to breathe. She loves her pack, she really does, but she hates the fuss when they all get together. They eat a lot, they make a mess, and she has to talk to a lot of people. She barely likes talking to most people on a good day, and these aren't always good days.

Peter actually picks Stiles up earlier than expected and he comes and finds Cora hiding around the side of the house. She's sitting with her back against the wall, just taking deep breaths and trying not to think about how hectic everything is. He doesn't say anything, just slides down to sit next to her. Cora leans her head onto his shoulder. She doesn't say anything either. They sit like that for a while until Cora finally sighs.

"I hate people," she says.

Stiles laughs and takes her hand.

"No you don't," he says. "You just get overwhelmed with a lot of them."

"That obvious, huh?" she asks.

Stiles shrugs.

"You're never too thrilled in crowds, but you hide it well. I think Peter knows, and probably Derek because he's a lot more observant about things like that than people give him credit for," Stiles says.

"It's just a lot sometimes," Cora says.

"I get that," Stiles says. "I'm guessing they don't make Xanax for werewolves?"

Cora laughs.

"Nah, probably not," she says. "You think I have anxiety?"

Stiles shrugs, making her head do a weird bob on his shoulder.

"Maybe, I don't know, you know you better than I do," Stiles says. "But maybe some social anxiety?"

"Once everyone's here and settled in it's usually fine, I just hate the buildup and when too many people are trying to talk to me at once," Cora says. "So...yeah, maybe."

She burrows in closer and gives his hand a squeeze. Stiles squeezes it back before letting go and patting her thigh.

"Come on, up," he says. He disentangles himself from her and springs to his feet.

"Why?" she groans.

"I've suddenly remembered I have a very important errand that must be done immediately and I need the accompaniment of a fair werewolf maiden," Stiles says formally, bowing formally. "Come on."

Cora lets him tug her to her feet and pull her by the hand around the house. She pretends to dig her heels in, but doesn't put my effort into it.

"I need Cora!" Stiles says when Laura opens her mouth to ask what Cora's doing. "Super important errand, gotta run!"

Before Laura can say anything they're past her and walking through the house and climbing into Stiles' jeep.

"Buckle up," Stiles says.

"What's the difference? An accident won't kill me," she says.

"All the same, buckle up."

Cora rolls her eyes but does her seat belt so Stiles will start driving.

"So what is this super secret errand?" Cora asks.

"I have the biggest craving for frozen yogurt," Stiles says. Cora stares at him. Stiles glances over at her. "What?"

"That's...you're going to get me in so much trouble," Cora says.

"Nah," Stiles says and waves her off. "I kidnapped you. Plus, you're all basically werewolf pack courting me, so I'll just play that card."

"What?" Cora says. They definitely hadn't told Stiles the reason for the get together. They had just told him pack party for spring, nothing about Stiles as pack.

"Please, you guys aren't subtle," Stiles says.

"I want you," Cora says. "But some of the pack hasn't met you, we just wanted to give you a chance to meet some of them before we make a decision."

Stiles hums, but doesn't seem annoyed at all, so Cora lets herself relax into the seat, tension leaving her now that they're away from the house.

"This is dumb," Cora says when they're a few miles away.

"What?"

"I'm completely fine with killing those hunters that came for us, and I asked Peter to take me with him when he does his enforcement crap, but I get anxious over a party? A party? What the fuck?"

"Hey, no, don't think about it like that," Stiles says. "Everyone's got different things. I still sometimes get nervous going into stores or restaurants I've never been to. And I've literally vaporized someone once."

"Yeah?" Cora says. "Wait, you what?"

"It wasn't 100% on purpose!"

"Jesus Christ."

-

Stiles and Cora come back about an hour before the party's set to start. They're hauling a bunch of tubs of frozen yogurt into the house. Peter raises an eyebrow.

"This was your emergency errand?" Peter asks.

"Yep," Stiles says. "Can't have a party without froyo."

Peter shakes his head, but kisses Stiles' temple.

The party is awkward at first. There's a very obvious divide between the pack members that know Stiles and those that don't, the ones who don't know him keeping to a different part of the yard. Peter thinks they're afraid to anger Talia if they make Stiles uncomfortable, so they're being overly cautious. Laura apparently thinks so too because she says, "For fuck's sake," and drags Stiles over by the arm and starts introducing him to people. Stiles blushes bright red and stammers at first, but manages to keep it together. That is, until Larry's daughter tugs on his jeans until he squats down to her three-foot height.

"What's up, peanut?" he asks.

"I just wanted to thank you for saving us from the bad guy," she says, voice high and sweet, and throws herself into Stiles' arms, hugging him tightly enough that Peter worries for a moment that she might crack Stiles' ribs. Stiles looks up at Peter helplessly, hugging the little girl back.

"Uh, you're welcome," Stiles says. "I really love your pack and would never want anything to happen to them."

"I like you," she declares when she pulls away. She marches over to Larry and pokes him in the thigh. "I like him, Dad. We're keeping him."

Larry look amused and ruffles her hair. "We'll see what the pack says," Larry says, quiet enough that Peter can hear but not Stiles.

It's smooth sailing after that. A lot of people come up and thank Stiles, who gets redder each time and mumbles it was nothing. Peter tells him saving an entire pack isn't nothing, and Stiles blushes even harder. By the end of the night, Peter's pretty sure everyone's interacted with Stiles for at least a little bit, but they're a large pack and it's hard to be sure.

Cora drifts over to them toward the end of the night and leans heavily against Peter. He puts his arm around her shoulders and squeezes tightly. Stiles leans against his other side and Peter has the distinct feeling they're both about to nod off, so he steers them inside and into the family room, which is really just a giant couch and a bunch of plush pillows on the floor. Stiles grabs a bunch of the pillows and drops lifelessly onto them, yanking Cora and Peter down with him. Peter snorts but curls around Stiles' back, wrapping his arms around the boy. Cora snuggles up to Stiles' front and holds his hand.

"How you doing, Cora?" Stiles asks sleepily.

"Less stressed," she says. "Thanks."

"Sure thing, chicken wing," Stiles says.

They doze for a while, only really surfacing when more pack members start trickling in. It starts with Marissa and the kids. They curl up on the couch, one of Marissa hands drifting down to gently rub through Stiles, Cora, and Peter's hair. Derek and Laura come in a few minutes later, each claiming a pillow near Peter, Cora, and Stiles. Peter loses track around then. Larry and his daughter join the puppy pile, as do Talia and David and most of the pack. Even moody Rob pulls up a pillow and rests his hand on Laura's ankle. They don't do this nearly as often as they should and Peter has missed the pack cuddle piles. Werewolves are tactile, reinforcing their bonds through touch and this is one of the most fundamental parts in Peter's opinion. They all lie there for hours, each touching another and anchoring themselves to the pack.

And at the center is Stiles with Peter and Cora tucked against him on both sides. This isn't something that non-pack members see or are allowed into. This is the pack seeking him out and signalling their acceptance. This is Stiles being fully adopted by the Hale pack.

-

Peter feels an instant power boost when Stiles formally accepts Talia's offer of a place in the pack as their new emissary. They're gathered in the preserve to welcome their newest member. It's much more than he's ever felt from Deaton's presence and judging by the rest of the pack's reactions, he's not alone in feeling that. Cora actually staggers a bit with the force of the energy that is pure Stiles running through them. Stiles pulls it back and looks around sheepishly, apologizing for not realizing they'd be able to feel it. He's a lot more careful about 'spillage' as he calls it of his energy after that. But Peter can feel him now, like he can the rest of the pack, like an extension of his own body. He cherishes that bond, coaxes it, feels it blossom strong.

He tells Stiles he loves him that night.

They're curled on Stiles' couch watching some mindless car chase show, Peter unconsciously tracing patterns on the back of Stiles's hand. He normally hates these shows, but somehow he doesn't mind when he's with Stiles. He doesn't mind much when he's with Stiles. He's happy and content in a way he thought he'd never have, a way he didn't think he deserved, given the job he has within the pack. And he knows.

"I love you," Peter says, surprising both of them with how fervent he sounds. Stiles turns in his arms and blinks up at him. "I love you," Peter says again. "It's too early, I know, and I expect nothing from you, but I just...I'm in love with you."

The next few seconds are long ones until Stiles smiles softly and presses his lips against Peter's.

"I love you, too, you idiot," Stiles says fondly.

Cora calls them disgusting the first time she hears them utter it in front of her, and rolls her eyes at the sappy looks they share, but Peter can smell how happy she is for them. He makes sure not to bogart her time with Stiles in order to keep it that way.

The pack wasn't hurting before Stiles, but they positively bloom with him as their emissary. He connects fully to the nemeton, the ancient sacred tree that Deaton could never access. Their land flourishes, their territory stays safe, and Peter even swears that the pack bond feels brighter and stronger than before. Stiles joins Peter and Cora in running off rogue hunters and a pack of ghouls that try to invade. He goes with Talia and Peter to meet with other packs and settle disputes.

And whenever Peter comes back after having to use his position as enforcer, now sometimes with Cora at his side (granted, on relatively easy jobs, he's still shocked Talia allows that, though he thinks some of that might be Stiles' interference in helping convince her), Stiles meets him with open arms and without judgement.

They're not merely existing or surviving, they're thriving together, the pack unit working as one. And Peter can't remember ever being happier than when Stiles is at his side, surrounded by the love and safety that is his pack.