
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/474794.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Allison_Argent/Scott_McCall, Lydia_Martin/
      Jackson_Whittemore
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall, Allison_Argent, Chris_Argent,
      Gerard_Argent, Sheriff_Stilinski, Jackson_Whittemore, Erica_Reyes, Isaac
      Lahey, Boyd_(Teen_Wolf)
  Additional Tags:
      stiles_is_a_werewolf, Stiles_smells_like_a_mate, Angst, Lots_of_Angst,
      mate!fic_with_a_twist, Pack, Betrayal, Derek_gets_possessive_and_it_can
      get_weird_but_it's_over_soon, Possessive_Derek, united_pack, Werewolf
      Stiles_Stilinski
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-01 Completed: 2012-09-01 Chapters: 15/15 Words: 56071
****** Pale Horses ******
by Dark_K
Summary
     Being bitten had never been on his to-do list, but he could deal with
     that. Helping Derek Hale become a competent Alpha, though, that was
     so not in his job description.
Notes
     Hey!
     So, here’s the deal: I’ve been watching Teen Wolf, and I ship these
     two so much I can’t even, and so I wanted to write something with
     them in it.
     The spoilers go as far as the end of the episode 2.10 – Fury, with a
     few changes. After that I may or may not take canon into
     consideration – it all depends on how much this can fit canonly into
     the story once this season is over, so you should just consider this
     AU from 2.10 on, ok?
     The name of the story, and the song bit at the end is from Pale
     Horses, by Moby. Which is pretty much the most Derek-song I’ve ever
     heard.
     Nothing you recognize belongs to me.
     Right.
     I hope you like it.
***** Something Ends *****

 
The really bad thing was that Stiles listened to it too.
He hadn’t meant to – hell, if he had had a choice in the matter his very
hyperactive self would have begged not to let him hear his best friend
comingling with the ultimate enemy, because that’s what Gerard was – the enemy,
the worst of all of them, worse than Chris or Derek or even Matt at this point.
And Scott was working with him.
After having managed to get out of the police station – his father thankfully
alive and well, and apparently being the sheriff again, as he was pretty much
the only survivor of the longest night of all times – Stiles couldn’t remember
much of how things had gone down. Matt was dead, and Jackson was AWOL again,
and Lydia had gone missing from her party not to be seen again, and Scott’s
mother was apparently in the know of Scott’s furry situation, but the main
point of it all was: Scott was working with the enemy. With the guy who wanted
to screw them all over.
Stiles was pretty much at boiling point – if this was about Allison he swore to
God he wouldn’t help Scott again, never ever again. There were limits to what a
guy was willing to do to help his best friend, but allying himself with the
creepy enemy in the name of love was not something Stiles was willing to do.
That was pretty much the reason why he was skulking around town, risking being
mauled or killed or arrested or a combination of all of them, to seek Scott
out, to try to give him a chance to redeem himself. Why was he such an idiot,
anyway? Did Scott possess no brains at all? Did he think he was Edward Cullen?
Because Allison had nothing of Bella Swan in her as far as Stiles was
concerned, the chick had tried to kill Derek, and almost succeeded too. And
Derek wasn’t the best guy out there, but he had always come to their rescue
when they needed, had he needed them back or not. It just wasn’t decent to
leave him to his own fate the way Scott had – that, and the way Scott had
simply forgotten all about him too back in the police station.
What if his paralyses hadn’t vanished? There had been so much gunfire going on,
so many shots and terrible things happening, and not even once had Scott come
to his rescue. Not that he was a damsel in distress type of guy, but come on.
Scott sometimes seemed to forget what Matt had pointed out that very night –
out of all of them, the only one without creeper killing skills or a
supernatural power was him. He was the brains of the thing, but there’s only so
much brains can do when you can’t move, your father is unconscious on the
floor, there’s a freaking Kanima on the loose, a psychopath with a gun angsting
away and trying to kill everyone, and werewolf hunters all over the place.
Not the best place for a 100%human to be.
So, yeah, his dad was back at the station trying to puzzle the thing out, and
trying to explain away all the deaths and misery, and it was all chalked up to
psycho Matt, who they had found in a lake, drowned. Matt was a bastard and a
creep and a psycho, but Stiles felt there was something very off about his
whole suicide thing. Especially because no one can actually kill themselves by
drowning without an aid to keep themselves under water – and Matt didn’t have
anything on his body.
Things kept on getting crazier and crazier, and he needed just a tiny little
bit of normalcy. A scrap of his old life back.
He needed to hear Scott explain what the hell he had been doing passing
information to Gerard Argent of all people.
It wasn’t morning yet, the day was at that strange stage where the light is
trying to come through, but the darkness doesn’t quite want to let it go, and
everything is an orangey tone of blue, if that is at all possible – and he is
going after Scott, who had apparently thought that hiding out at the old Hale
place was very nice, because his talk to his mom hadn’t exactly been the best,
as far as Stiles had gathered from their rushed exchange of texts on the phone.
Scott didn’t sound like himself either, and maybe things had really gotten bad
with Mrs. McCall.
It couldn’t be pleasant for a mother to seeher son change and shift and
basically become a wolf in front of her. But even then, the Hale place? Really?
The hiding hole of Derek, taken away from him by the creep Argents? Really,
Scott?
Anyway, he needed to sort this out, and that’s where Scott had said he was, and
that’s where Stiles is going to, because he needs to believe there is a viable
explanation for Scott’s betrayal of the pack he was allegedly helping.
Stiles doesn’t want to think about it from that angle either, because the
betrayal of a whole pack seems a lot harder to forgive than just making the
wrong choice.
He goes as far as he can on his jeep, and then gets out of it, staring at that
creepy house in the distance. He doesn’t have any kind of werewolf super sense
to help him see what could be waiting for him there, so he just walks to it –
what else can he do?
“Scott?” He calls, and the answer was so not what he is expecting it to be. 
A snarl.
“Scott?” He calls again, looking around the darkened place, and feeling a chill
run down his spine, and not the good kind either.
Something shuffles at a corner, and Stiles moves cautiously towards it,
thinking maybe his friend is still wolfed out? Because of the fool moon and
being upset?
“Hey, buddy, mind moving to the light a bit? I’m not going to the dark corner
of a horror movie to talk to you, so, you know.” He half jokes, standing his
ground, seeing the form move a bit – it is definitely not human, and so if that
isn’t Scott he is pretty much screwed.
Stiles tries to take a step back, but by the time he actually moves he already
knows it’s too late, and he’s sprawled on the floor, with a giant fucking wolf
on him.
And that’s not Scott at all.
It isn’t Derek either.
I’s freaking Peter Hale.
                                       -
                             Put me on the train
                            Send me back to my home
                                      -
***** Something Begins *****
Chapter Notes
     It occurs to me now that this is REALLY harsh on Scott’s behavior in
     the last few episodes, so if you REALLY love him, you should not take
     offense.
     If, like me, you think he needs to get over himself, and see the
     world doesn’t revolve around him, enjoy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes


 
And that’s not Scott at all.
It isn’t Derek either.
I’s freaking Peter Hale.
-----
Stiles screams like a little girl, and he knows it, but honestly, he doesn’t
much care. There’s a snarling freaking dead man over him, and he can hardly
breathe – he’s sure he broke something from the fall and the being crushed by a
werewolf thing.
“Hummm, always so useful to steal phones, isn’t it? Not the first time one of
your little gang falls for it either.” Peter says, smirking away in his half
wolf form, his eyes flashing bright wolf-blue and fading back to normal and
then flashing again. His voice is strange, soft and crazed, and he seems to be
in-between something.
“You… you were dead.” Stiles points out helpfully, and those eyes stare into
his, smirk still in place, his face shifting slowly into his human features
once again.
“Your little friend Lydia helped a lot, you know? Being immune has all kinds of
side effects.” He says, and then he closes his eyes, humming under his breath
and sniffing Stiles, who tries to move, but a searing pain shoots through him,
on his back.
He definitely broke something. Probably his ribs. Oh god. He groans in pain
when Peter shifts over him, pushing his face to the side with his nose, making
him bare his neck, and then sniffs him again, smiling his creepy smile this
time.
“I was hoping to trick someone else with Scott’s phone, but something tells me
you will do nicely.  I need my pack back.” Peter says, and holds Stiles gaze in
his again, smiling, smiling, always smiling.
“You’ve gone Omega.” Stiles says in sudden realization – that’s why his eyes
were all crazy, they weren’t red anymore, he didn’t have a pack to be Alpha.
The words had barely left his lips and he’s being crushed again, Peter’s hands
holding his throat, and he can’t breathe once more.
“I’ll be Alpha soon enough. Your Alpha, Stiles, you would like that, wouldn’t
you? You lied to me before, when I asked you, didn’t you: your heart beat gave
you away, you want the power, you want to be strong, you want to be first line
too.” He replies, letting the pressure on Stiles’s throat alleviate just the
tiniest bit.
“No.” He rasps out in response, just to have his throat squeezed again, Peter’s
eyes going crazed once more.
“Liar.” The man says, and then he shifts again, and Stiles can feel his eyes
actually fill up with tears from the pain in his ribs, “You smell good, Stiles,
do you know that? Ever thought about the fact that my nephew keeps finding ways
to shove you, to touch you? It’s because you smell so damn good, you smell like
mate, Stiles. And once I become your Alpha you’ll be mine.”
Peter snarls the last part, and Stiles frantically tries to dislodge him, but
he can barely move, and the man weights a ton and a half, and has the strength
of ten Stiles – possibly more.
“Get off me, you can’t change me.” He says, causing the wolf on him to snarl
again, and shift, his teeth going longer and longer, turning into fangs, and
Stiles actually closes his eyes and whimpers, because fuck he’s going to die.
Omegas can’t change people, only Alphas can. And even if he could, the whole
mate thing sounded like Peter was going to simply turn him into his personal
bitch.
Jesus freaking Christ, next time he wouldn’t be going anywhere without an
actual phone call, texts be damned.
A clawed hand shoves his head to the side, and he can feel the warm breath of
the wolf over him, hear the snarling in his ear, and the tongue that licks his
neck twice before the sharp fangs descend on his neck, and he screams with
everything he’s got, trashing and trying to dislodge the damn wolf who won’t
move, and he feels Peter’s fangs piercing his skin, tearing into his flesh
mercilessly. He screams till he’s able to do so, because he is fucking dying.
He listens to a roar, and suddenly Peter is not over him anymore. There’s
something warm and wet by his side, and he lifts a hand to it, and with the
light of the morning he can see dark, dark red on his hands. He tries to push
himself up, the sounds of snarling and breaking of wood making a good
incentive, but he can’t. His breathing is labored, and he can feel his
heartbeat as if his heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest.
The pain gets worse, and the sensation on his neck is something he can’t think
about. He’s dying. He’s going to bleed out, and he’s dying.
Tears slid down his face again, and he makes a noise of discomfort or agony, he
doesn’t know quite what it is, and suddenly there’s a whimper kind of sound,
and a roar that makes his own hair stand on end and a shadow is falling over
him again.
Derek.
“What did he do to you?” The Alpha asks, between astonished, horrified and
critic, but Stiles can’t answer, and his eyes start to close without his
consent.
He is dying, and Derek is the last thing he’ll ever see.
Great, just freaking perfect.
“Shit.” He hears Derek grumble and snarl, and suddenly there’s one more sharp
pain to add to his collection, just under his arm.
He tries to scream or get away, and he can’t.
And then, there’s only darkness.
                                       X
When he wakes up, he’s not in absolute agony, but it’s a close thing. He
groans, because, honestly, he’s not up to full words yet, and the answer is a
small huffing sound coming from nearby, but he can’t summon energy enough to
actually open his eyes.
“You should really wake up soon, because you’ve been here for three hours, and
your dad is going to be looking for you.”
He recognizes that voice – Erica.
Which means he’s either dead, and Erica has obviously followed him to the
deepest darkest pits of hell, or he’s alive.
He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but opens his eyes just a bit, blinking
fast to try and see things better.
“I’m not dead?” he asks, feeling his throat sore and raspy, and that reminds
him of the bite on his neck, and the hands squeezing his throat, and he starts
to slowly lose control, panic taking over. His breathing is short and
agonizing, and he can see Erica taking a step back from him, looking pissed and
fearful all at once.
“Calm down before you reopen the cut.” Says a voice curtly, and Stiles tries to
reign in his breathing, seeing Derek coming into the room he’s in – room, piece
of bus, potayto potahto.
Carefully he raises a hand to his neck, touching it tentatively – it’s not
completely healed yet, but the cut is not open anymore. It’s healing. He is
healing.
Shit.
“I’m a werewolf.” He whispers – and his tone isn’t one of fascination or
happiness or anything positive.
He is royally scared.
He is sure the other two werewolves in the room can smell it out of him too.
Derek, in his true supportive and understanding, super communicator way,
doesn’t say anything, giving him time to freak out a little bit more.
No, no, no, no, no, NO.
Just… no.
This is not how this is supposed to go. He doesn’t want to have one more burden
to add to his dad’s already overflowing back, he doesn’t want to become a
threat.
Whatever the perks it may seem to have to all those idiots who agreed to become
a monster, he doesn’t want to be one of them.
And then it occurs to him that Peter had bitten him first, and that makes him
freak out even worse. His eyes widen, and he looks at Derek sharply than he
intended, hissing at the pain in his neck and under his left arm.
“Was it you?” he asks urgently, feeling his breathing run away from him, he
can’t control it anymore.
“It was the only way.” Derek answers tersely, as if he was getting ready to
defend himself from an attack.
“But it was you? Not… Not… him, right? He didn’t turn me, he can’t. Was it
you?” His voice is desperate, and this seems to throw Derek out of his balance
a little bit. He looks at Erica, who leaves without questioning, and crouches
beside Stiles, who’s still lying on the bus seat/bed.
“What did he say to you?” Derek asks, and Stiles tries to shake his head, but
he can’t, because of the bites, which still sting a lot, so he closes his eyes,
and takes a deep breath.
“Just… He can’t, right? It was your bite.” He affirms more than asks and Derek
keeps quiet for a moment longer before answering.
“Yes. It was the only way, you’d have bled out. Even if he was an Alpha, he
wouldn’t turn you with that kind of bite. That’s not how you change someone,
that’s how… Well.” He goes quiet, and Stiles doesn’t want to know how that
sentence is going to end. He really doesn’t. But he is smart, no matter what
people think of him, he has perfect grades, and yeah, his hyperactivity is a
bitch to deal with, but he can come to conclusions just like anyone else with
half a brain can.
“It’s how you mark a mate, isn’t it?” he says, closing his eyes again. He
doesn’t want to hear it.
“Yes.” But Derek confirms it anyway. Stiles swallows convulsively, trying his
best not to think about it.
“You don’t have to worry about it. It doesn’t work like that, you can’t mark
someone who isn’t a werewolf. And only Alphas can mark someone like that,
anyway.”
Stiles lets loose a breath he wasn’t aware of holding, and stares at Derek,
looking at him in the eye, trying to catch him lying – which, well, now he can,
because whoopie, he’s a werewolf. He’s a freaking lying detector now.
“So he’s not my anything, right? Nothing at all, Stiles is a creepy-Peter-free
zone, right?”
He can swear Derek looks just a tiny bit amused for a tenth of a second, and
then it’s gone.
“No, you are nothing to him, he’s nothing to you.”
“What about you?” Stiles says before he can think about how that’s going to
sound, and then he wants to smack himself on the head, but he doesn’t, because,
hello, healing laceration on his neck, not good for smacking.
Derek doesn’t even answer; he just stares at Stiles with a disgusted/
intimidating face.
“I didn’t mean it like that, geez, I mean… What about you? Am I part of your
pack now? Are you my Alpha?”
Derek stares at him for a few seconds.
“Do you want me to be?”
Stiles looks down, and honest to God, he tries to think.
Measure things before he puts his foot in his mouth and ruins everything.
He already knows being an Omega is bad, it’s very, very bad. He doesn’t want to
die, he doesn’t want to be the weaker out of all of them, not now. And he knows
he’s got two choices here – he can either become Derek’s, or he can go to
Scott.
Scott, who Derek himself said was already Alpha of his own non-werewolf pack.
Who, by the way, is betraying the pack he said he wanted to belong to.
Stiles tentatively puts his hand to his pocket, and pulls his phone from there,
staring at it. So, Scott had lost his phone, which Peter was using to send him
texts. Okay.
His screen shows him two missed calls from his dad. A missed call from Lydia,
surprisingly.
Nothing else.
Now, Stiles isn’t the best person on Earth or anything, but if your freaking
best friend is missing - and he knows his father would have called Scott’s
house the second Stiles didn’t answer his phone - and you know it, wouldn’t you
at the very least call him? It’s not like Mrs. McCall doesn’t pay her phone
bills. And sure talking to his mom about the whole hey I’m a werewolf now would
have taken up a lot of time, but, geez, he had been in that house for, what, an
hour? Three more hours dead to the world at Derek’s.
In four whole hours Scott couldn’t have called him? Once?
He dials his father’s number slowly, and puts the phone to his ear, finally
being brave enough to sit up. Derek helps him silently, letting him go the
second he’s sure he won’t pass out, but he doesn’t leave.
His dad answers at the first ring.
“Where the hell have you been?” He practically snarls on the phone, and Stiles
smiles, relieved to hear his dad’s voice.
“I’m sorry, dad, I freaked out home all by myself, and got out of the house. I
ended up sleeping. I’m at Isaac’s.” He lies, and makes a face at the same time.
“Isaac Lahey?” His dad asks.
“Yeah. He was kind of down too, and I couldn’t find Scott, we fell asleep on
his couch, I’ll be home soon, just gonna make sure he’s okay.”
His father is silent, but he knows it’s plausible. Isaac has been going through
a lot this year, and Stiles is kind of a good person. Sometimes.
“Just, don’t do that again. Call me to let me know things. I’m still at the
station, and I’m going to need your testimony later.”
“Sure. Hey, did Scott call?” He asks, as if he doesn’t mean anything by it.
“No. I’ve been calling his cell, I’ll need to talk to him too, but there’s no
answer. His mother said he went out with one of the Argents.”
Stiles feels as if his heart is skipping a beat.
“Okay. I’ll be home soon. Love you, dad.”
His father answers in kind, and Stiles ends the call, staring at his lap. Scott
hadn’t called him, to see if he was fine, if he was okay, if he was alive.
He had gone out with the Argents.
He looks up and stares at Derek, whom he knows has heard everything his father
answered, but right now is very easy for him to make a choice.
“He’s betraying us.” He whispers, and Derek nods.
“I know.” He answers, and doesn’t comment on “us”.
Because he knows that with that sentence alone, Stiles is one of them.
He is a part of their pack.
                           Couldn't live without you
                             when I tried to roam
Chapter End Notes
     What did you guys think?
     Let me know!
     REVIEW!
***** Something Breaks *****
Chapter Notes
     I just wanted to say you guys are amazing!
     Thank you so much for your support on this story!
     Also, don’t expect any kind of Erica-hate in here – poor girl won’t
     be a bitch in this.
     Thanks again, and enjoy the chapter!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
It’s not like it’s happened suddenly, Stiles reflects a few minutes after his
phone call to his dad.
Derek is silent in his seat, contemplating something far away, and Stiles is
quiet, for once in his life.
And he concludes it didn’t happen suddenly.
Scott and he had sort of been friends for a very long time. Not best friends
forever – Scott used to live with his father, but when he moved to live with
his mother, and therefore changed schools, they had become fast friends,
possible bonding over awkwardness.
Stiles is the type of awkward who has kind of gotten used to it. He doesn’t
expect anyone to save him, he doesn’t expect to suddenly be at the top of the
food chain in High School – and most of the time he doesn’t even care about any
of it. He wants to date Lydia, but he knows she won’t go for someone like him,
and, mainly, he knows she’s totally into Jackson. He wants to play front line
in Lacrosse, but he knows he’s not good enough. He can see himself for what he
is, and it bothers him sometimes, but not enough to try to change or try to fit
in in some pattern – he knows he won’t, anyway.
Besides, he likes being himself.
Scott, on the other hand, has had the chance to actually become everything they
used to make fun of – out of jealousy, maybe, but they did -, and he took it.
And that’s when everything shifted.
That, right there.
The moment when Stiles had needed his help and Scott had hung up on him because
he was having dinner with Allison’s family. The way he had called him ten
minutes after that, expecting him to just be there – and Stiles had tried to
be, he had tried to be the friend he had always been.
The problem was that Scott wasn’t giving anything back to him – hadn’t done so
in a few weeks, maybe months, now. He had Allison, and he had problems, and he
had werewolves, and werewolf hunters, and the Kanima, and Stiles had been there
for him, encouraging him, backing him up, even relaying love messages from
Allison for him, word by word.
And then his dad had been caught in the middle of the whole thing, and Scott
hadn’t even bothered to check on him. When Stiles had finally gotten home, the
very first thing he did was try to call him - answering Scott’s texts, going to
the freaking Hale ruin after Scott.
When had Scott ever done anything like that for him?
Never, that’s when. Stiles had almost died so many times these past few weeks
he had honestly lost count. Things were getting crazier by the second, and
everything they could count was on each other – and Stiles had felt that, if
Scott had allied himself to Derek, then so had he, they were a team. Only Scott
was double crossing them for an Argent, the worst of the bunch.
Damn.
He sighs. He can feel his neck is not as sensitive as before, and runs one of
his hands over where the bite would have been – he can’t feel anything. There
isn’t even a scar on it.
He doesn’t know what to think about that either, he doesn’t know how he feels
about being a werewolf now, a monster if he lost control of himself, as he had
seen Scott do so many times before.
“Do you think it’ll be okay if I go home?” He asks, and Derek turns to look at
him, raising an eyebrow.
“You think I’ll be keeping you here as a prisoner?” He says, and Stiles snorts.
“No, you jerk, I’m asking about the control thing. I don’t want to hurt anyone,
but my dad wants me home soon, and the excuse I made isn’t exactly bulletproof.
I have to either go home or find a more permanent and convincing reason for
being out. It’s hard, and I’ll find a way, but I won’t hurt him. I can’t.” He
says, and Derek keeps on looking at him as if he can’t quite figure him out.
“Scott never bothered about that.”
“Yeah, well, Scott is an idiot who kissed the girl I’m in love with because of
the full moon, and tried to kill me at least four times now. He’s not exactly
an example, you know.”
Derek shrugs slightly, moodiness all back suddenly.
“I just figured.” He says, and Stiles stares at him with just a tiny bit of
hatred in his eyes.
Okay, maybe not that tiny, but come on.
“I am not Scott, Derek.” He says firmly, and Derek moves his mouth just a
little bit upwards. It’s the closest thing to a smile Stiles has ever seen him
give when he’s alone with him.
“I’m learning that.” He replies, before sighing, “I think you’ll be safe. The
full moon is the furthest it can be right now, and your dad is hardly at home
at all times. If anything happens, just… leave. Leave, and lock yourself
somewhere, and call me.”
Stiles nods.
“I can do that… I think.”
The silence stretches for a bit longer, and Stiles starts to feel like himself
again – at least where his neck is concerned. His side is another thing
entirely – it’s the bite of an Alpha, it will take longer to heal, he knows
that.
“Were you serious?” Derek asks, and Stiles is a bit confused.
“About…” He prompts, and he can see Derek is making an exceptional effort not
to get irritated again.
“Pack. Were you serious?”
His green eyes are staring directly at Stiles and he nods, knowing there’s no
way he could lie to Derek and not be caught.
“Yes.” He says finally, and Derek gets up, offering a hand to help him up, and
he accepts it, completely confused.
“What’s going on?” He asks, and Derek looks into his eyes, staring, just
staring, and Stiles starts to fidget, he’s never been good about keeping still,
unless he’s mortally injured, that is, “Derek?”
“If you are to be a part of this pack, you will submit.” He almost growls out,
and Stiles looks confused all over again.
“You didn’t do this to Scott.” He points out, and Derek smirks – a full on,
villain of teen movie smirk.
“I didn’t trust Scott, and he’s not an expert in werewolves, is he?”
Stiles stares wide-eyed at Derek – he never truly admitted Scott into his pack.
Well, it did make sense, because simply saying ‘I’m pack’ didn’t really sound
like an acceptance for an exclusive group, and what’s more, it didn’t seem like
the kind of thing that would make an Alpha more powerful.
Derek apparently got tired of his spacing out, and grabbed the back of his
neck, bringing his mind to the here and now, and staring into his eyes again.
“Submit.” He growls, and Stiles gets very confused, because Derek didn’t tell
him what to do to submit. What was he supposed to do, grovel and say Oh Alpha,
my Alpha?
But then he tries to stare at Derek again, and he gets a glimpse of those red,
red eyes, and suddenly he feels cowered and protected, all at once. He doesn’t
want to look down, but he does – it’s not a conscious decision, it’s an
instinctual one.
He can’t stare into the Alphas eyes without it being a challenge, and he
doesn’t want to challenge anyone.
He looks down, and his head turns to the side, exposing his neck, as if it’s a
natural move, something easy and common.
Derek hold him for a few more seconds, and then releases him, and Stiles rubs
his neck, risking looking at the Alpha again – the urge not to look into his
eyes now gone.
“This is how you become a part of the Pack – by submitting to the Alpha.” Derek
explains, and Stiles simply nods.
“Do you think I can go home?” he finally asks, as soon as figures out how his
voice works once more, and Derek nods, all business again.
“Yes. Just make sure you change before you go see your father.” He says,
nodding slightly towards his t-shirt, which is covered in blood on his left
side.
He makes a face, looking the other way, and hears a soft laugh – Erica is
looking at him, standing by the door, for the very first time with warmth in
her eyes.
“I need to go and get my jeep.” He says, shuddering slightly. Man, if he could
never ever again step foot near that place he’d be so very, very glad.
“Do you want one of the others to go and get it for you? You can wait here.”
Derek offers, and Stiles smiles at his consideration – so being in the pack did
have perks, huh?
“I… I can go. I want to go. It’s okay. I can deal with this, I’m a dealer. I
mean, not like, I’m a dealer, like I sell drugs or anything, I’m just very,
very good at dealing with things, all kinds of things. I’ll shut up now.” He
says when he sees the looks he’s getting.
“How can you be so random?” Erica asks, and Stiles shrugs a bit.
“I’ve got ADHD. My head is like an attic, full of bats and ants and spiders,
and they are always moving. Very hard to focus, very easy to babble on till
Judgment Day.” He says, nodding along his explanations, and she smiles at him
again.
“I’ll go with you.” She says then, and Derek nods.
“Take Isaac too, and Boyd. I don’t want any of you alone from now on, okay? No
more sneaking into the woods by yourselves, no more I can handle this by
myself. Peter is dangerous, and we can’t afford to lose anyone.” He orders and
leaves them. They exchange a look, but Erica leaves to call Isaac and Boyd, and
they go to her car.
The ride to the Hale house is silent, but it’s not uncomfortable – Stiles would
never notice how much of a difference it could make to be part of something.
They simple… accept him. Nothing is hard anymore, there isn’t an edge like he
had been expecting.
He’s beginning to see what those three outcasts at school could want when they
said yes to the bite, it was more than simply wanting power – it was more the
wanting of being part of something.
Like a family.
Or a pack.
Erica parks right beside his jeep, and he gets out, listening to the others
leaving the car too. Boyd and Isaac hadn’t said a word to him so far, but it’s
okay.
He looks at his jeep and then at the house, just a few feet away, and shivers.
He can’t make himself look away.
“What happened, Stiles?” Erica finally asks, and Stiles jumps a little at how
close her voice sounds. He looks around him – Erica is by his side, looking at
the house – they are all looking at the house, and they are all standing by his
side. Boyd beside Erica; Isaac on Stiles’s other side.
“What did Derek say?” He asks, and it’s Boyd who answers.
“He said Peter attacked you, and he had to change you before you died. He’s not
exactly a fountain of words.” He says with a smirk, and Stiles nods.
Yeah, he’s got that right.
“He… Peter used Scott’s phone to send me texts, asking me to meet him here.” He
says, and Isaac huffs.
“And you believedit?” He asks, and Stiles shrugs.
“It wouldn’t be the most stupid place Scott would have come to.” He almost
whispers, and they don’t laugh or joke about it – they know.
They know it’s hurting him to have left his friend behind, and to have been
basically abandoned by him. They just know.
“What happened?” Erica inquires again, and Stiles shudders. He doesn’t want
anyone to know what happened there, ever – and yet he wants to tell them, so
they can tell him it’s not his fault. It’s a strange internal war, and talking
actually wins – talking always wins with him.
“He jumped me. When I figured it wasn’t Scott, he jumped me. He said he used
Lydia somehow. And then he…” he swallows, it’s difficult to speak, “He said
something about… About changing me. About the way I smelled. That he would make
me his. His mate. And then he bit me, and Derek came, and saved me, and then he
bit me too, and I blacked out.”
They keep silent, and Erica actually moves just a bit closer to him, as if
sensing he needs the comfort.
“He said I smelled different.” He whispers, staring at the house, “He said I
smelled like a mate. What the hell does that mean?” He asks, and looks at the
others. Isaac is staring at him, and Boyd is staring at the house, while Erica
actually looks intrigued.
“You should ask Derek.” She ends up saying, and he just nods.
Yeah, if he ever felt like talking about this ever again, maybe he would.
They end up splitting into the two cars – Boyd and Erica in Erica’s and Stiles
and Isaac in his jeep, because that is actually his cover story. They don’t
talk much during the short ride to his house, and Isaac leaves him by the front
door, sniffing all around the house, before he gets into Erica’s car when they
are all satisfied Peter is not waiting for him in the house.
He gets in and waves at them before closing the door behind him, and pushing
his back against it. He gets into a shower almost immediately, throwing his
shirt away in the process, and lets the hot water sooth his muscles and his
fears, and maybe just a few tears away.
He’s never asked for all this mess.
Finally he leaves the shower, listening to a phone ringing away. He puts a
towel around his waist hastily, and answers it without checking who it is
first.
“Yeah.” He says.
“Stiles, it’s me. Your dad just called my mom, saying we need to go to the
police station, to give our testimonies. We need to figure out what we’re going
to say, and I already have a story.” Scott says it all in one breath.
Not a single, hey, are you okay? Where have you been? Is your dad all right?
Nothing.
Yeah, Stiles knows he has a story – Gerard’s story.
“I’ve just got in, I’ll call my dad, and then we’ll talk.” He says moodily, but
he can tell Scott isn’t even paying attention.
“Ok. Call me when you know when your dad wants us to be there.”
Stiles doesn’t bother answering before hanging up, and feels like throwing the
phone against the wall – and just the thought that this would be the second
phone he’d lose in under a month stops him.
He would have done some serious damage too, it occurs to him.
He’s like super strong now.
He sighs, and pulls up his contacts on the screen, pressing the call button and
sitting on his bed, wearing just a towel.
“What, Stiles?” Derek practically snarls in the phone.
“Hum, Scott just called. He says he’s got a cover story figured out for when
dad wants to talk to us about last night, at the police station. What do I do?”
Derek is silent for a few seconds, and Stiles doesn’t need to be there to know
he’s surprised Stiles actually did mean when he said he wanted to be a part of
the pack.
He was sick and tired of protecting Scott at every corner, and always be left
behind.
Just… tired.
“This is probably…”
“Gerard’s story, yeah, I know.” He interrupts Derek, and hears the man sigh.
“Just… try to keep me out of it. They saw you there, but no one but the Argents
and Jackson saw me. No one who’ll talk, anyway. They were there too, they can’t
have a too incriminating story about it – I mean, they left an underage girl go
there, intent on killing someone. They can’t have a bad cover story, or it’s
their asses on the line too.”
“Okay.” He answers, and is surprised when Derek doesn’t immediately hang up.
“Call me if you need anything.” And then his Alpha hangs up.
Stiles smiles a little, before remembering last night.
Allison being there had been a surprise. The girl was not in her right mind –
geez, her mother had just died, damn it, and they totally blamed Derek for it.
Only Derek didn’t kill her – Chris Argent and Gerard did.
And that was the family Scott was helping.
He sighs and dials his dad’s number, to tell him he is home, and ask when he
wants him and Scott to be there.
Maybe things won’t be so bad, now that he actually has back up, instead of
being back up.
Just maybe, they will all manage to get out of this alive.
Maybe.
                             Put me by the window
                              Let me see outside
Chapter End Notes
     What do you think?
     I thought it was strange just, you know, hey, you’re pack, so I tried
     to think of something with more… rituality (??) to it. Or something
     like it.
     Thanks again and
     REVIEW!
***** Something Builds *****
Chapter Notes
     I couldn’t find Stiles’s dad’s name ANYWHERE, so we’re going with
     John. Because I haven’t slept in over 20 hours, and that’s what my
     mind came up with.
     Hahahahaha
     Sorry for taking longer to update! Family came along today, and I
     totally wasn’t expecting them, so I couldn’t get online earlier.
     Tomorrow’s chapter will come earlier.
     Thank SO MUCH for your amazing comments, and reviews and Kudos and
     favs and alerts. They mean A LOT to me.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Pale Horses
                               Something Builds
Stiles paces his kitchen while he waits for Scott to show up, so they can think
through what they are going to say at the police station. His dad had said they
were being expected – they shouldn’t even have left, but the Sheriff had
excused them on the basis of shock at being held by gunpoint by a classmate.
His job with Scott is very simple: keep him from trying to incriminate Derek.
That’s it. And possibly, not tell him about his change, because he just doesn’t
want Scott to find it out yet. He can’t even explain why, he just doesn’t.
A few minutes after his call Scott shows up, putting his bike against the
house. Stiles invites him in, and his best friend seems… nervous. Twitchy. He
smells like guilt, and Stiles wonders if he’d be able to pick all that up if he
hadn’t been changed.
Probably not.
“Hey.” Scott greets with half a smile, and Stiles answers with an awkward hey
and a half shrug.
“How were things with your mom last night?” He can’t help but ask, because he
truly is worried about this idiot.
Scott makes a face.
“I… I don’t know how things are going to be, honestly. She’s… completely
freaked out. I told her the basics, and she flipped, saying we have to try and
find a cure. We argued a lot. I left to…” He stops talking, and Stiles simply
stares, thinking here comes a lie, but Scott surprises him by not saying
anything else, just shrugging.
“It’ll get better, man.” He says, slapping Scott softly on the back and his
best friend – ex-best friend? – just shrugs.
“We have to figure out what we are going to say.” He comments, and Stiles sits
on the couch in the living room, Scott taking a place in an arm chair.
“You said you had a plan, what is it?”
He sees Scott take a deep breath.
“We tell the truth up to the point your dad and my mom got locked up. Then we
say Matt wasted all that time talking about those things about Lahey, and how
he almost drowned.”
Stiles nods.
“Okay… but that still doesn’t explain all the damage that was done there. And
what about your mom?”
“Mom won’t say anything. I told her about the hunters, she’s freaked with me,
but she doesn’t want me dead. And, well, we say…” Scott swallows nervously
before continuing, “We say we left, to try and get help, that Matt let us go.
And that we saw Derek Hale coming in. And then we got back when we heard shots,
figuring our parents could be in danger, and there was no one else there
anymore. Just your dad and my mom, which is pretty much what happened.” He
finishes and stares at Stiles expectantly.
“Except for the part where the shots came from your girlfriend’s family – and
that it almost killed me, my dad, and your mom, and Jackson too. And also that
we’d be incriminating Derek again.”
“It’s not like he’s ever helped us, Stiles.”
Of course not, he had only almost died about fifteen times saving them from
Peter the first time around, and fighting against the Kanima these past few
weeks.
“Man, we’re not saying anything about Derek.” He says with finality, and Scott
makes an irritated sound.
“Why would we defend him, Stiles?”
“Why incriminate him, Scott?” He throws back, too agitated to sit any longer,
getting up and pacing the room.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Scott says, shrugging, and Stiles actually
stares at him, open mouthed, before laughing incredulously.
“Yeah, but this time we know it’s not him, and we know he’s not dead. So it’ll
make a difference. Besides, do you know how it’ll look if we say we saw him?
Again? No one is going to take our testimonies seriously anymore. Everything
that happens we say it’s Derek’s fault, and it never is. And we are not
screwing up my dad’s career again because you want to pull one over Derek.”
“We wouldn’t be messing up anything for your dad!” Scott says indignantly,
getting up too.
“Oh, really? Because he got fired because of me, and my trying to keep Jackson
away from danger and from killing someone. And now you’re trying to make it
look as if we’re trying to incriminate someone who had no reason to be at the
station last night, just because we have a grudge against him. That’s what
it’ll look like: like the Sheriff’s delinquent son and his friend are trying to
use the Sheriff’s position to play a prank on some guy! And we are not doing
it. We’re leaving Derek out of this.”
Scott looks like he’s wants to argue, and Stiles swears to God he’ll kill Scott
if he says anything at all about this. It’s his dad’s career on the line again.
“Fine, you’re right, sorry.” Stiles lets out a breath he isn’t aware of
holding, and runs his hands through his hair.
“All right, fine.” He looks at Scott for a second, and decides to take the
leap.
Maybe, just maybe, if Scott trusts him, maybe they can fix this. They can fix
their friendship, and forget about this whole betrayal thing.
“Where did you get that plan?” He asks, looking intently at Scott, “Not to
offend you, buddy, but you’re so not the great thinker of this duo.”
“Oh, uhm, Allison.” He says, and Stiles stares at him incredulously – he so
doesn’t even need to hear Scott’s heartbeat increasing like crazy to know he’s
lying.
“She talking to you?” He asks in a very surprised tone, and Scott just shakes
his head.
“No, I mean… Er, I thought about Allison. If we put Derek in the station last
night, maybe she’d talk to me or something, she really has it out for him.”
Scott looks at him hopefully, and Stiles has to take a deep breath, because
that actually feels as if he has just been punched.
He’s still trying. Knowing his dad’s job is on a very fine line here, knowing
that plan sucks, he’s still trying to get him to incriminate Derek, and he’s
still trying to manipulate him.
Where had his best friend gone to?
Oh, yeah, he is Gerard’s lapdog now.
“We are not doing that.” He says fiercely, “I’m sorry, but my dad is more
important than your crush right now, Scott.” He finishes through gritted teeth,
and Scott, for the very first time, looks at him carefully.
“Anything happened to you last night? You’re… You’re different. Something is…
different.” He finishes, as if he can’t put his finger on it.
“Yeah, one could say something happened last night.” He answers, taking the
keys for his jeep, and ushering Scott out, managing not to lie even if he
doesn’t tell Scott the truth.
He’s feeling just the tiniest bit spiteful right now. Let Scott simmer in
curiosity for a while.
The things at the station are completely insane. His father is trying to make
sense out of chaos, and people are welcoming him back like Hogwarts welcomed
Dumbledore back at the end of The Chamber of Secrets book. There’s a feeling
that had he still been the Sheriff none of the carnage would have happened.
Not exactly true, but his dad is not in a leave of absence anymore, and that’s
great.
They tell their story, which is the same his dad told, and Scott’s mom too.
Scott half looks as if he wants to go for the Derek thing by himself, but he
knows no one will believe him and ends up just telling everyone the same thing
Stiles did.
The main problem the Police are facing is the state of the other officers’
bodies are in. They are ripped apart by some sort of animal, and there are
traces of a chemical substance in them, and, well, they can’t exactly tell the
truth on that, so they simply say they didn’t see what attacked the men, they
just saw the damage.
As Matt is being accused of planning the whole thing, and Matt is now
officially dead, their main goal is to try and find a wild animal that they
assume was being used my Matt and is now loose on the town.
At least everyone will be careful out of their houses, and that’s a relief in
so many ways.
He leaves Scott at home saying strained a strained see you later, and Scott
looks as if he doesn’t know what’s wrong. Stiles sees Scott’s mother looking
through the curtains when his friend gets out of the car – well, at least Scott
doesn’t have to lie to his mom anymore.
He sighs thinking of the next huge fuming pile of lies that’ll certainly come
into his life now that he’s a werewolf and he can’t tell anyone, and he’s got
Peter after his blood (hopefully his blood, he doesn’t want to think about that
creep being after anything else of his), and him losing his best friend to the
enemy.
He gets home and tries to do his homework – honest to god he does. But it’s
Saturday, and he knows he won’t be able to concentrate. He wants to go out – he
doesn’t want to be alone, but he knows he can’t, because his dad asked him to
stay home. To stay safe. How can he deny him that?
He wanders around the house for a while, poking around, turning his computer on
and then off, starting at least four different movies, and stopping at none.
Finally, he phones his dad, just to have something to do, and the Sheriff tells
him to calm down and stay at home.
He also tells him to call Scott if he’s bored.
Yup, he’s not doing that.
Around noon he’s just about to explode the microwave just for the hell of it
when he looks out the window and sees a known car in front of his house.
Erica’s.
He frowns and leaves the house – the car is empty, but Erica jumps down a tree
when he approaches the vehicle. They stare at each other, and she laughs a
little at his bewildered expression.
“Derek told us to come and watch your house, because of Peter. He seems to
think he’s coming for you.” She explains with no prompting.
“Us?” He asks, and she whistles with her fingers in her mouth – Isaac comes
from behind his house, and Boyd simply appears, Stiles really has no idea where
he’s been.
“Well, this is a party.” He says, and the boys seem to take offense at his
words, while Erica simply laughs.
“Catwoman wouldn’t leave Batman unprotected.” She says, shrugging, and they
stare at each other and he smiles – a real smile.
He kind of likes Erica right now.
“Well, why didn’t you knock or something? You don’t have to be, you know,
skulking around.” He says, and the three trade a look. Finally, Isaac shrugs,
and goes to his house, the others following.
Stiles is a bit nervous – he’s never been big on the whole hanging out thing.
It’s usually just him and Scott.
Things are awkward at first, and then he offers them lunch, and the silence
breaks – finally they talk a bit, nothing of wolves or crimes or death. Just a
general complaint about the uselessness of most of their classmates, and the
way the Lacrosse team is going to win for sure now that four of its players are
super powered.
They complain, and talk, and Erica actually asks a few questions to Stiles,
because he does have good grades, and Boyd helps by keeping him on the subject,
and Isaac is very quiet, but even his silence loses its edge little by little,
and he’s even smiling when they settle in the living room to watch Underworld
and make fun of the werewolves, and end up talking during most of the movie
about the possible existence of vampires, which has all of them laughing in no
time.
No one mentions the fact that Derek seems to think Peter will be targeting
Stiles more than the rest of them, or that they know he thinks about Scott
every once in a while, because it’s strange to be having fun without him – even
if in the past few months he’s used to being ditched for Allison.
They just don’t want to deal with that.
It’s getting dark outside when his dad comes home, and he seems a bit confused
about all the people in his living room.
“Yo, dad!” Stiles greets him with a smile, and John smiles at him.
“Hey, son. Who’re your friends?” He asks a bit awkwardly, but Stiles knows that
awkward runs in the family.
“You know Isaac,” He starts, not mentioning that he knows Isaac because he had
arrested him, “this is Boyd, they are in the team with me. And this is Erica,
she’s my classmate.”
His dad nods at them, and seems to accept this addition with no further
comment.
His pack – pack? friends? pack of friends? anyway – leaves soon after that,
saying they have to get home. Which in Erica’s and Boyd’s cases means actual
home, and Isaac’s means a small apartment he’s in, because he’s old enough to
live alone, and he’s getting emancipated with all the your dad is a creep but
he’s dead now thing.
His father watches them leave, and he watches the way Stiles is almost carefree
around them, the way he only usually is with Scott.
“So, where was Scott?” His dad asks while they are having dinner, and Stiles
looks down, shrugging, and doesn’t answer, “Spill it.” His father commands, and
Stiles sighs.
“We kind of… I don’t know, man.”
His father looks amused, and ruffles his hair from his side of the table,
reaching his hand over the very healthy meal they’re having.
“Did you guys have a fight?” He asks, thinking that’s impossible.
“Not really. It’s just…” Stiles looks up and meets his father’s eyes, “He’s
lying to me. And I know it, and he won’t come clean, and I don’t know why. He…
betrayed our friendship, dad. In a totally non-kidding, non-messing around way
here.”
“Does this have to do with last night, son?” His father is suddenly worried,
and Stiles sighs internally this time. And here come the lies.
“Not really. It’s more personal than that. He kissed Lydia.” He says in an
impulse, and his dad looks horrified for a few seconds – his crush on Lydia is
legendary that way.
“I’m so sorry, son.” He says, putting a hand on his shoulder when he gets up to
put his plate in the sink.
“Yeah.” Stiles replies, because the truth is, he knows it was Peter’s fault,
but it still stings.
Freaking damn Peter screwing up his life all over the place.
They end up in the living room again, watching Iron Man on DVD.
And if they fall asleep on the couch, side by side, they don’t comment on it
the next day, because it feels good to be so close to someone you truly,
absolutely love after what they went through.
On Sunday, John doesn’t go to work – he takes the day off, because most of the
things are handled, and he himself suffered a huge shock on Friday night.
They hang out a bit, tidy up the house, talk and watch TV, and Stiles tries to
make his dad eat less junk food, and is only half successful. He actually gets
his homework done, and spends the day exchanging texts with Erica, Boyd and
Isaac.
He thinks about calling Derek to check in, and see how he’s doing, but can’t
quite be brave enough to do it.
Just before he goes to sleep, he gets a new message.
Stay out of trouble. I mean it.
He smiles because it’s short and it’s almost rude, but it shows that Derek
actually cares about whether he lives or dies.
Which is more than can be said for Scott, who texts him twice, and doesn’t even
try to talk to him. In the first text he says he’ll try to swing by his place
later. The next, he says he can’t because his mom wants to talk.
And that’s it.
Monday comes with windy weather, and he comes out of his jeep pulling the
collar of his jacket up to protect him from the wind.
He parks beside Erica’s car, and she’s there, leaning on her hood, waiting. He
says hi and she pulls him beside her, and soon Boyd is there; and after him,
Isaac.
The four of them turn around to make their way into the school, talking about
homework and how much it’s going to suck if it actually rains later. It’s
ridiculously normal, and he sees a few other kids looking at their strange
group with curious eyes, because Erica is suddenly very popular, and Isaac is
totally in the Dangerous vibe, and Boyd is usually alone, and he’s just the
freaky friend of the co-captain of the Lacrosse team. The other kids are
wondering what the hell he’s doing with these people, but he doesn’t care.
It’s peaceful, somewhat. It helps him keep calm and in control.
He’s just about to get through the door with the others, when he looks back and
his eyes meet Scott’s, who’s locking up his bike in the parking lot.
Scott takes a single look at him and the people he’s with, and Stiles doesn’t
have to listen to what he’s saying quietly to be sure: he knows.
“Shit.” He curses and Erica just has to look where he’s looking to know what’s
happening.
“You hadn’t told him?” She whispers, while pulling him behind her into the
school and towards their lockers.
Stiles shakes his head.
“No. He was lying, and trying to incriminate Derek and I… I didn’t want him to
know.”
“Well, this is going to be awkward.” She comments, and they turn, watching as
Scott comes towards them, approaching fast and looking murderous.
“He’s going to kill me.” Stiles says, and Isaac chuckles by his side.
“Nah, we won’t let him.” Boyd comments, and finally Scott is there.
Stiles doesn’t say anything.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The boy demands, and Erica looks completely
unimpressed by him, while Stiles just shakes his head.
“Could we not talk about this in public? At this school?” He emphasizes,
pointing with his chin to one of the cameras, and Scott just stands there, his
mouth trying to work out words he doesn’t even know he wants to say.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He repeats, “I thought you were my friend.”
Stiles snorts incredulously, and starts to get really pissed off, and he knows
he can’t, this is the opposite of staying out of trouble, but he can’t help it.
“Right back at you, traitor.” He hisses and his eyes flash a warm greyish
color, lighter than Scott’s, darker than Derek’s.
“Not here.” Erica hisses at them, looking down, trying not to be capture
looking at the cameras, because of the glare in their eyes.
“And specially not now, guys.” Says Boyd in a worried voice, and Stiles calms
down enough to look at Boyd, and see he’s looking at the opposite side of the
corridor.
Stiles follows his stare and feels that saying shit again doesn’t even begin to
cover it.
Because Jackson is walking into the school, as if nothing’s happened at all.
                            Look at all the places
                           where all my family died
Chapter End Notes
     Half a confrontation between Stiles and Scott, but don’t worry, this
     isn’t the end of it.
     What do you guys think of this pack-family feeling? I so wanted to
     see Stiles having back up. It warms my heart. What do you think?
     REVIEW!
***** Something Happens *****
Chapter Notes
     These chapters keep on getting longer and longer. Hm.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Pale Horses
                               Something Happens
“I’m calling Derek.” Stiles says, and he’s already pulling his phone out of his
pocket, while Scott whips his head to stare at him incredulously, but he
doesn’t much care.
Man, okay, what the hell do they do now?
Derek answers on the first ring.
“What?” Stiles hears the growl in his voice, as if he’s upset at being
interrupted.
“Just to let you know our little lizard friend is at school. Like, right now.”
He turns towards the lockers to speak, keeping his voice as quiet as possible.
Jackson passes them by, with a small nod to Scott, who looks lost in the middle
of it.
And Stiles realizes he’d be lost too if he didn’t have a support net, someone
to call to when something like this happens, a leader.
An Alpha.
He also realizes that, without him and without Allison, pretty much all the
make-believe feeling that Scott possessed of being an Alpha is gone – he’s
Omega.
Shit.
“Damn it!” Derek curses on his ear, and Stiles can listen to him breathing
hard, “This is what you four are going to do, you go about your day as if you
know nothing about anything. Don’t answer if he provokes you, try to keep an
eye out for him, to see if he loses control, but do not question him. We’ve got
our own problems now, the Kanima isn’t our top priority.” His voice is tight,
and Stiles swears he’s never heard Derek speak so much in a single sentence.
“What is our priority?” He asks, watching as Jackson disappears into his
classroom, and he looks at Boyd, who has that class with him, and Boyd nods,
following Jackson.
“Peter.” Derek bits out, “Wait for me at the end of your classes, I’ll be at
the school.” He hangs up, and Stiles turns to Erica and Isaac.
“We’re supposed to watch for any attacks, but not to interfere. He’ll be here
when classes finish.” He says succinctly, and they both simply nod, accepting
his word for it.
What, is he second on command or something? He wasn’t expecting this
acceptance.
“What the hell, Stiles?” Scott hisses, “We need to do something! Why are you
even listening to Derek?”
“Why are you listening to Gerard, Scott?” he retorts tersely turning his back
on Scott and going to class, followed by Isaac, whom he has that period with.
He misses the shocked and regretful look on Scott’s face, but Erica doesn’t.
“Traitor.” She says with a cruel smile, and she leaves him too.
Jackson, surprisingly, doesn’t do anything outwards during the whole day. He
keeps up with his image, being an all-around jerk, looking surprised when
someone talks about the attack at the station on Friday, saying he’s always
thought Matt was a freak anyway, saying he doesn’t know where Lydia is when
someone questions him – it’s like he doesn’t even know what he’s done.
It occurs to Stiles that it’s quite possible he doesn’t.
Allison isn’t at school that day, and it’s with a small pang in his heart that
Stiles sits with Erica, Boyd and Isaac to eat his lunch. Scott looks undecided
for a few minutes, and ends up sitting at their table, but the other three keep
on interrupting anything he wants to say to Stiles.
And Stiles is having a major life crises right now, he can’t deal with a lot of
things that he is simply refusing to acknowledge, but he’s good in picking up
hints even when he doesn’t mean to, and things start to get put together in his
head like half-formed thoughts that keep on shaping up to conclusions he’s
never consciously thought about, but are there anyway.
Scott gets frustrated half way through lunch and leaves when Erica tells him
he’s almost changing in the middle of the lunch room. Their protectiveness, of
all three of them, that’s what keep coming up in Stiles’s thoughts.
“This has something to do with the mate thing, doesn’t it?” He suddenly asks,
in a very quiet voice, looking around to make sure Scott and Jackson aren’t
around to hear to their conversation.
“What do you mean?” Isaac says, “We don’t want to mate with you, Stiles, ugh,
that’s gross.” The boy continues, but Stiles is already shaking his head.
“Not like that, you moron, I mean you three. You’ve hung out together, sure,
but like this? The way you keep on protecting me? I get that these are Derek’s
orders, but this interference with Scott, and the acceptance of me in your
pack, this is not Derek’s orders, this is you accepting me way more easily than
I would have thought possible. You don’t like me. Or at least you didn’t.” He
finishes and the other three are staring at him in different states of
contemplation, “And it’s not like it’s one-sided either – Lydia isn’t at
school, but honestly? I’m more worried about what Derek is doing than her not
being here. And I’ve been crushing on that girl ever since I found out what a
crush was!”
“What are you saying?” Isaac asks, his annoyance at not understanding showing
in his tone.
“That this mate thing is way more complex than I was thinking. The way he spoke
of it… Like it was, you know, a designation. Like Alpha, and Beta, and Omega.
It wasn’t an issue before, because I wasn’t one of you, but now, that I’m your
pack, it’s here. I actually trust you three and Derek more than I do Scott, and
that moron has been my best friend for years. I worry more about you than
Lydia, and I thought I was in love with her ever since I first saw her. You
didn’t even like me, and I know I can be annoying as hell, and yet, here you
are.”
The other three keep looking at him, and Stiles starts to fidget, because it’s
not easy to stand still, and it’s even harder when three werewolves keep on
looking at you as if you’re a puzzle they want to put together.
“You should just ask Derek.” Erica starts, and then she seems to gather her
courage to continue, “But the thing is, Stiles, I never disliked you. When I
said I had a crush on you, I meant it. It’s gone now, sure, but you’re funny
and smart and cute, and you’re kind to the people you like, and you care so
much about your dad and that idiot Scott. I really liked you, even when you
didn’t know who I was. Don’t sell yourself so short.” Erica said, getting up
with a smile.
“Hey, why do I have to ask him? Don’t you want to know this too?” He asks after
her, and hears Boyd chuckling, while Isaac hides a smile behind his can of
soda.
“Not really, no. I don’t care that I like you now.” Boyd shrugs and gets up
too, and the other two boys follow him out to class.
There’s Lacrosse practice after classes, and Stiles gets ready between Isaac
and Boyd, avoiding Scott like the plague, simply because he doesn’t know what
to do about their whole situation. He’s pissed as hell at him, and yet he wants
to help him.
He’s just not willing to betray his pack to do it.
Jackson is a complete jerk, but there’s an astonishing lack of homicidal
reptiles showing up, so Stiles starts thinking about what could have happened
to the boy now that Matt is gone. Does he have a new master, or is he flying
solo, or is his scaly personality gone?
They get to the field, and Stiles sits on the bench. Erica is at the stands,
looking at the practice, and soon after she’s settled, Stiles sees Derek
leaning on one of the stands. He nods at his Alpha and receives a nod back.
He grins at Derek, who just shakes his head, and focus on what the coach is
saying – not that the man makes any sense, but, oh, well.
He’s called to the field, even if just to have someone the others can beat and
feel better about themselves, and he starts thinking that well, this is it.
This is him getting a chance at playing a game, finally. Boyd made into the
team after their last game, and Isaac is playing, and Scott is co-captain, and
Jackson – who was a great player even before his very serious skin condition –
is waiting for him, and when it’s time for him to play…
… He holds back.
Consciously he knows he doesn’t reallyhave to. He can give it his all, and be
great, be a great player, a star player, be the best – or one of the best. But
how would that look? He can’t keep thinking about his personal welfare if he’s
going to really do this pack thing and get out of it alive – and, most of all,
to keep his pack.
He gets to play with the big boys, and then Gerard, who’s the freaking
Principal at this school, God only knows how he pulled that off, will see he’s
got more going on for him than simply being Scott’s friend, and that’s it, he’s
on the line, and with him, his whole pack.
It absolutely kills him inside, seeing the ball, knowing he can catch it, he
can throw it, he can score with it, he can make this game his bitch – and he
doesn’t.
Because there are things much more important than Lacrosse – and his safety,
and the safety of his friends, even Scott’s, is more important than this.
His dad’s safety is more important than this.
When practice ends, he can’t help but throw his stick on the grass with a
little more force than he thought he’d have, making a dent on it. None of the
other regular players seems to be paying him attention, and Isaac and Boyd have
already gone to the showers. Erica is hanging by the stands, waiting for him,
and he can see her sympathetic face. Derek looks at her, and she waves at
Stiles, leaving the field.
Derek starts to come towards him, but Scott beats him there.
“What the hell did you do? Why did you play like that?” He seems thoroughly
bewildered, and Stiles runs his hands on his hair, exasperated.
“Because our freaking Principal is a werewolf hunter, Scott. How would it look
if the supposed human is suddenly a match for all the other supernatural
players in this freaking team? I don’t need a hunter on my tail, and I don’t
want to endanger my dad, or my pack.”
Scott is still looking for words to answer him – probably because it suddenly
occurs to him that he has never thought about not using everything he can to
make his life better with no regard to the others who’ll get caught up in the
crossfire - when Derek reaches them.
“I thought about asking you to do that, but I didn’t think you’d listen to me.”
He says quietly, and Stiles looks up at him.
“I would listen to you.” He says awkwardly, and Derek is staring at him in a
way he can’t define. He’s not pissed, he’s not angry, he’s not thinking he’ll
die at any minute – and that’s pretty much the range of facial expressions he’s
usually displaying around Stiles. It confuses the hell out of him, “I mean, if
you made sense. I wouldn’t listen to you if you were being a complete idiot
or…”
“Stiles.” Derek growls, and he raises both his hands, surrendering, but smiling
a bit. Derek sounds exasperated, and maybe, just maybe, a bit amused, and not
about to kill him, so that’s good.
“Look, we need to talk.” Scott says, and Stiles turns his attention back to
him.
When he faces Scott, Derek’s hand fall on his left shoulder. It doesn’t
squeeze, it doesn’t hurt him - it’s just there. As if he’s showing Scott Stiles
doesn’t… belong to him anymore.
“I know.” He answers.
They stare at each other, until Derek grows impatient.
“Just go to his place tonight, but later. Now we have things to discuss.” He
bites out, and the pressure on Stiles’s shoulder appears, guiding him towards
the showers.
He goes with no protest.
He showers, and meets Derek on the parking lot. Erica and the others are gone,
and he gets into his jeep, following Derek to his lair. There’s no other word
to call that place.
Getting there, he finds Derek pacing the width of the room. He drops his
backpack on a bus seat, and sits beside it, looking at his Alpha.
“He’s been around your house.” Derek finally says, never stopping moving, “I
could smell him around it. He didn’t get in, and I think you’ll be safe as long
as you’re not alone – he may be crazy, but he knows he’s weaker than any of us
now.”
Stiles looks down, and he can’t stop his hearty from racing.
Shit. His dad. That creep around his house, just… just shit.
He’s hyperventilating soon, and he knows it. It’s just like the panic attacks
he’d get when his mom was gone. He tries to control his breathing but it’s
hard, because his dad could get hurt, and that… creep could get him, and just…
He feels a hand on his knee, and looks up to see Derek crouching in front of
him.
“He won’t get to you.” He says firmly, his chin set, and his eyes fierce, the
sentence sounding just as much like a promise as it sounds like a threat.
“What about my dad?” He asks tiredly, throwing himself against the seat, his
hands going to his hair again.
The hand on his knee doesn’t move. Derek’s green eyes never leave his.
Suddenly he’s having a bit of trouble breathing for an entirely different
reason.
“I think you should consider telling him.” Stiles stares at Derek open-mouthed.
What the hell? “Our best shot at getting allies here would be the Argents, but
we obviously can’t do that. We can’t hunt a rogue when they are looking for
excuses to kill us all. Your dad is the sheriff, he can help more than anyone
else, and he’d be… safer if he knew. You’d be safer if he knew.” Stiles looks
ready to protest, and Derek holds a hand up, stopping him – but not the hand on
his knee, which is still there. “Just think about it.”
He nods, and swallows thickly, looking down again, at the hand on his knee.
“Derek, what does this me being a mate mean?” He looks up, and Derek gets away
from him as if he’s being burned, “It’s just this whole mess began because of
it, and I can see the way the others are behaving around me, that’s not normal
behavior. It was too easy for them to accept me. I just figured it’s got
something to do with what Peter said.” He catches Derek’s eyes and tries to
make himself not look away, “Does it?”
Derek paces a few more moments, looking caged. He runs his hands through his
hair a few times and finally he curses and stops, looking at Stiles.
“First, you have to know this wasn’t supposed to happen, ok? Peter… screwed
this whole thing up. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
He makes it sound like an apology, and Stiles is even more intrigued.
“Okay.” He answers when Derek keeps on staring at him without continuing.
“Mates are… rare. Not because they don’t exist, but because most of them aren’t
werewolves to begin with. They smell different, even for Betas and Omegas, but
that’s nothing compared to what they smell like for an Alpha. When I became
Alpha, you were the first thing I could smell in that clearing.” He stops
talking, and Stiles can’t help but asking.
“What do I smell like?” he is intrigued, and honestly curious.
Derek keeps his silence, and Stiles thinks he won’t answer, but then he takes a
deep breath, and throws himself beside Stiles on the bus seat, looking at the
ceiling.
“You smell like home.” He stops talking again, but this time Stiles lets him.
He has the feeling this’s taking a lot more out of Derek than he has any right
to ask, “Mates are almost like a kind of wolf in its own right. You are not a
beta, you would never be an Omega, and you can never become an Alpha. You only
become a mate, because you have… You have a different way of dealing with
things. I knew of your potential when I saw how you handled Scott – you trained
him better than I could ever hope to do, and you were human by then. A mate is
a great addition to a pack. It brings the Alpha power, balance, more than
having Betas can do. But it’s so much more than that, it’s something to be
cherished, to be chased. Any Alpha would want to have a mate.” His voice is
wistful, and Stiles stares at his profile, his jaw firm, his hands in fists by
his sides, his eyes fixed in the ceiling.
“And yet you didn’t try to turn me, or convince me to be turned.” He comments,
and Derek spares him a look, before staring at the ceiling again.
“My dad...” He pauses, as if the words don’t want to leave his mouth, “My dad
was my mom’s mate.  She was already married to him when she became Alpha. He
agreed to be turned because he loved her.”
Stiles doesn’t know what to say to that. But mostly, he can see all the things
Derek is not saying – like the fact that mates are supposed to be a couple. And
also that being someone’s mate probably implicates in loving that person. And
he can see, as clear as day, that Derek doesn’t think anyone will ever, ever
love him again.
It breaks his heart a little just to think about that. About what life is for
Derek, about the way he’s been handling things.
“You were never supposed to be Alpha, were you?” He whispers, and Derek turns
to look at him sharply, but Stiles is not afraid – not like he’d be before.
This man is just about making it his life mission to protect him. He’s not
going to cheapen that by letting Derek think he’s afraid of him.
They stare at each other for a while, and Derek seems to find whatever it is he
is looking for in Stiles, because he sighs and stares at the ceiling again.
“Laura was always supposed to be it. But we never… Our mom, our Alpha, she was
still young. Laura didn’t get all the training she needed.” He says it very
quietly, as if he doesn’t want to disrespect his sister.
“And you didn’t get any training at all.” Stiles says, feeling even more guilty
about the way he’s commented on Derek’s skills with his wolves before.
“Never thought I’d need to.”
They fall silent again, and Stiles gets lost in his own little world,
considering all Derek’s told him so far. He’s so distracted he startles a bit
when Derek speaks again.
“When Peter bit you, for half a second I thought about just letting you die.
You never showed any inclination to wanting to be turned, and what’s waiting
for you as a mate is not… I was sure it wouldn’t be what you wanted for your
life.”
“What do you mean?” He asks, confused again.
Might as well be his permanent state these days.
“I turned you, Stiles. An Alpha turned a potential mate. My wolf, he sees you
as his. I had to use every single piece of self-control not to claim you when
you submitted to me. I still want to do it now. You are here, and you are
handling the pack already. You spent time with them, and I can feel they are
more comfortable. When the full moon comes, they will be more easily handled,
they might even be able to completely control themselves, because that’s what
the presence of a mate does – it balances things. An Alpha is a fighter. We
keep the pack safe. A mate keeps them in line, it sees more than threats and
fights; a mate sees our lives, our happiness. It’s instinct, it’s the way
you’re always taking care of your dad’s diet, and caring about Scott more than
you do yourself, and even with that girl you think you like, it’s because deep
down, you always knew she needed something she’s not getting.” He looks at
Stiles again, serious and solemn, “You make things better.”
No, I don’t, it’s what Stiles think, but he won’t say it aloud. He won’t tell
Derek how he actually feels guilty about his mom’s death, and his dad’s losing
his job, and all the trouble he had to go through in his life just to give
Stiles a better home. Stiles knows he’s trouble waiting to happen, and he’s
just done that to Derek too. Now the guy has a mate, and he doesn’t want one,
that much is clear.
What does being someone’s mate even mean, anyway?
“What does that mean, anyway? That you want to jump my bones or something?” he
asks jokingly, but when he turns his head to stare at Derek he actually
startles, because the man is not looking at the ceiling – he’s staring at
Stiles, and he’s closer, way closer, than he was before.
Derek laughs dryly and he keeps moving forward, one of his arms coming up, and
his hand lands by the side of Stiles head on the bench, the other resting on
the seat between them, by Stiles’s hip. He’s looming over Stiles, who tries to
even his breathing out, because he’s so completely out of his depth here.
“In a very crude manner, yeah, that’s it.” Derek smiles a smile that Stiles had
seen when he flirted with the cop so that he and Scott could get to his dad’s
office at the station – but that one was just a shadow of what this smile is.
It’s breathtaking.
And apparently, Stiles is into dudes now, and he didn’t even know it.
“What?” he chokes out, his voice cracking, and he curses his very non-
flattering behavior, but Derek leans in, just a breath away from him, and his
eyes are completely red.
“You’re mine.” Derek growls, actually growls, his voice is not even human
anymore, it’s that strangely pitched tone it gets when they are wolfed out –
but he’s not a wolf now, he’s still Derek, only his eyes are changing, and he’s
leaning in, and the hand that was on the back of the seat is suddenly grasping
his neck, and the other hand is not by his hip anymore, in on his hip, and
breathing is difficult, and Derek leans in some more, and Stiles has no space
to run away – and he doesn’t want to run away, and then Derek is devouring his
mouth.
It’s not a kiss, it’s a show of want and dominance. It’s how Derek grips his
neck just right to make his breath hitch, and the hand on his hip caresses his
skin when it comes up, and goes under the fabric if his shirt. It’s Derek’s
lips, demanding and hot against his. It’s how Derek keeps pulling him up and
over and closer, until he can’t think properly, and his hands slide of their
own accord, running through Derek’s hair, gripping it and trying to pull him
close.
It’s the way Derek growls when Stiles parts his mouth, invading it with his
tongue; it’s the way Derek pulls back and snarls at him when he tries to
dominate the kiss, and he feels the urge to submit again, and Derek licks his
neck, holding him in place with a force that will leave bruises, but he doesn’t
care. And then Derek’s mouth is on his again, and he’s finally kissing him back
properly, making noises he never thought he’d do under a guy.
He keeps expecting Derek to pull away and say he’s sorry, or throw him away and
tell him to leave, but that’s not what happens.
The kiss slows down, and Derek pulls away with a bite to his lower lip, eyes
staring into his; and Stiles tries to regain his breathing and his bearings –
because that was freaking amazing.
“You’re mine.” Derek says again, staring into his eyes firmly, still holding
him by the neck and hip, and Stiles can only nod dumbly.
He’s Derek’s alright.
“I didn’t quite expect that.” He says breathily, and wants to curse his voice,
because, come on, where’s his manliness?
Derek hums, and dips his head again, nipping lightly over his neck – over where
Peter bit him – but he doesn’t break skin.
“I can’t fight it. I don’t want to. But I won’t mark you, not until you’re
ready.”
Derek stares at him until he nods; agreeing to something he doesn’t understand,
leans away, and Stiles takes a deep breath.
Okay, he’s honestly in a place where he doesn’t know what to do or think
anymore.
A buzz in his pants startles him, and he makes a strangled noise, and he swears
Derek’s mouth twitch in an almost-smile.
His dad is texting him, asking where he is.
“I have to go home.” He manages to say, and Derek gets up, pulling him up by a
hand, but keeps him close.
“You should tell your dad.” He says, and Stiles looks at him wide eyes.
“About this?!”
This time, Derek actually chuckles.
“About your change.”
“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” He answers, and Derek nods, serious again.
They don’t talk when Derek walks him to his jeep, and then gets into his own
car, tailing him until he’s home, and the door is closed behind him.
He feels as if he’s safe, knowing Derek is around.
That feeling that he can actually do this keeps getting stronger and stronger.
                           where all my family died
                           where all my family died
                           where all my family died
Chapter End Notes
     Yes, I know it was unexpected - and Derek is just a bit too accepting
     - but there are REASONS, I swear!
     Hope you don’t hate me now.
     Thanks a lot for your comments and reviews and favs and kudos, I
     really love them, guys!
     REVIEW!
***** Something Becomes Clear *****
Chapter Notes
     Just to let you guys know I SUCK at writing action scenes, so there’s
     a fight ahead, it’s really not what I hoped it’d be, but oh well.
     Sorry in advance. Also, some Stiles's angst. Poor thing.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Pale Horses
                            Something Becomes Clear
When he gets home it’s getting dark, and he knows his dad is that kind of
really pissed he gets when he is actually completely worried about him. He had
the day shift today, and getting home and not finding Stiles there’s got to be
on his top ten most hated things.
Stiles feels guilty just by looking at him.
“Where were you? And more importantly, why didn’t you call me to let me know
you’d be late?” His voice is angry and worried, and Stiles’s heart breaks a
little – is this how things are going to be now, then? He has to find excuses
all the time, and doing pack things usually involve being out at night, and his
dad doesn’t need the stress.
But what’s worse? Having him worrying and having to lie to him, or tell him the
truth and risk giving him a heart attack?
Decisions, decisions.
“Sorry, dad. I’m… really sorry, I just lost track of time.”
His dad doesn’t answer, but he comes to Stiles and hugs him. That kind of hug
that makes Stiles feel as if everything will be fine. The kind of hug that can
make anything better – even the death of his mom became more bearable because
his dad was there to hug him like this.
He doesn’t want to lie, and he has Derek’s permission.
Oh, God, he’s going to do it, he’s going to tell him.
“Just… don’t do that again, son. Not now, ok? Too damn close to losing you too
many times.”
Stiles nods and lets his dad go, and then he takes a deep breath.
“Dad, I have to tell you something.”
His father is about to answer when there’s a knock on the door, and Scott
actually opens it without waiting.
“Hey, can we talk now?” He asks, looking uncomfortable and guilty.
Stiles sighs, and he and his dad trade a look. His father smiles a bit.
“We’ll talk later, ok?”
He nods and makes a gesture for Scott to follow him, they go to his room, and
he closes the door behind him.
Scott shuffles about the room, unsure of himself, and Stiles throws himself on
his bed, waiting. He knows it’s killing Scott to have to begin the
conversation, and it’s kind of killing him to be quiet, because that’s just not
his natural state, but he’s going to extract a little bit of vengeance here.
“I’m sorry.” Scott says finally, looking at him with that kicked puppy look,
but Stiles is a cold, cold werewolf now, and snorts.
“Man, sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it. Actually, it’s so far from covering
it that it doesn’t even make a hat for it. It’s not a sock on it. It’s maybe a
small piece of a shoelace to it.”
Scott looks down, and sits on the chair by the computer.
“How did you find out, anyway? About Gerard, I mean.”
“I heard you.” He says simply, and Scott looks even guiltier, as if he would
try to convince Stiles he wasn’t betraying them.
“I really am sorry, Stiles, but he threatened my mom.”
Stiles actually looks at Scott then, and sees how worried and tense he is.
“Gerard Argent?”
“Yeah. He stabbed me outside the hospital, and kept on saying how my mom
wouldn’t heal, and that I had to help him.”
“And you went and agreed, and looked for Derek, to pass on information on him
to Gerard?” when Scott only nods, Stiles gets up from the bed, throwing his
hands in the air, “How can you be so stupid? Why didn’t you look for the
police, you moron? Gerard is a human, he can be accused!”
“Because no one would believe me! What was I supposed to say, he’s threatening
me because I’m a werewolf?” He protests, and Stiles turns around and fixes him
with an incredulous glare.
“What the hell, Scott! You just had to say he had threatened your mom because
he wants you to stop seeing his granddaughter, you stupid… ARGH!” Stiles starts
pacing again, “It’s not a secret they don’t want you with Allison. A family
like that is bound to have some record with the police.”
Scott looks down then, and mumbles something that, had Stiles not being a
werewolf, he wouldn’t have been able to pick up – but now he does.
“But Allison would blame me.”
Stiles stops his pacing again. What’s he going to do with this man?
“Scott, you are playing with a lot of people’s lives here. Not only yours, and
your mom’s, but mine, and my dad’s, and the whole pack’s. Matt is dead, and
Jackson is on the loose, and Lydia is not going to school, and you think that
not incriminating Gerard is better than have him at least investigated because
of Allison? Because of the girl who was trying to kill Derek?”
“She blames him, okay? Her mom didn’t have a history of depression like people
are saying; she killed herself because she was going to turn into a werewolf.
And Derek is the one that bit her!”
“Yeah, to save you. He put the whole plan to waste because of you. To save you.
The ash was all over the building, and he had me blow it away to saveyou. And
you are here, protecting, and lying and betraying him for the family who wants
nothing more than to kill you for what you are now! If she wants to blame and
kill someone she might as well start with you, because you’re the reason Derek
attacked Allison’s mom. Are you going to tell her that? That her mom is a
killer, who was trying to kill you?” He snarls, and he knows he’s losing it,
but he doesn’t care, he’s just so pissed at Scott right now, “And that’s not
even mentioning the whole question of how stupid it is for them to kill her, or
for her to kill herself, with no thought for Allison at all. She didn’t have to
be dangerous, she could have been controlled on the full moon, she could have
lived! Don’t you see how sick those people are, all of them, and you are
fucking WORKING WITH THEM!”
The last part is said in a roar, and he is the closest to turning than he’s
ever been. Scott is staring at him guiltily, but he doesn’t say anything.
He knows Stiles is right.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I screwed it all up, and I need… help. Come on,
Stiles, you were always my back up, I need you.”
It’s not the plea, and it’s not the tone, and it isn’t even that helping Scott
would be just about the most stupid thing he’s ever done that actually hurts
him. He’s done stupid things for Scott before, like chaining him to a wall and
sitting there while Scott tells him how he’s kissed Lydia.
It’s not that that hurts. It’s the you were always my back up.
Which translates into you were always second best. You are always the
afterthought. You are the one who can lose his very first game playing first
line, which your dad gets out of work to watch, to solve Scott’s problems. You
are the one that can get hung up on because Scott needs to be quiet in
Allison’s house, but has to answer the phone ten minutes later and go to his
rescue.
You are the one who can lie and get lied to, because you are back up.
You’re the sidekick.
Second best.
He’s never hoped to be first priority of anyone – besides his dad, and even
then he fights it tooth and nail, trying to take care of his dad just as much
as his dad takes care of him. He doesn’t need to be the most important thing in
Scott’s life – that would be just ridiculous, they are friends, they aren’t
family, or a couple.
But he has hoped that Scott would see him as an equal. Even ground. Balance.
And he clearly doesn’t, because he’s calling Stiles his backup.
Stiles can’t quite define why that hurts him so much now – maybe it’s the fact
that he would expect that from anyone but Scott. And he can’t help but feel
bitter towards him, because ever since Allison showed up, Stiles has been put
in second place, and that’s not her fault, because he wasn’t her best friend.
Scott has lied to him, and betrayed him, and endangered him, and it was okay,
because they were friends, and they were equals, and he could take it.
It’s what friend do, right?
Okay, with the werewolf part it has become kind of best friends extreme, but
it’s alright.
Only it isn’t anymore, because they aren’t even, they aren’t equals.
He’s backup.
Scott didn’t even say because you’re my best friend.
Stiles shakes his head, blinking fast, because he is not going to cry over a
lost friendship like this.
“Just… Just go, okay?” he whispers, and Scott gets up, worried this time.
“What… Stiles, I--”
“Just GO. I don’t… I can’t deal with you right now. I’ll talk to Derek, and to
my dad, and I’ll see what we can figure out about Gerard, but he isn’t our main
focus now, okay?”
“What could be more important than this?” Scott asks, and Stiles laughs
bitterly.
“Honestly, man? How about the fact that I HAVE BEEN TURNED? Did you actually
get that part? I’m a freaking wolf, Scott, and I sure as hell didn’t ask for
it, and Derek had to do it to save my life.” He looks at Scott and can tell
that he is really shocked by it, “Peter Hale is back, and he almost killed me,
and if it wasn’t for Derek, and Erica, and Boyd, and Isaac, I would be dead
right now. And that creep is after me, and I’m quite sure he’s not interested
in killing me. So yeah, for me, being alive and Peter-free is kind of top
priority right now.”
“What does Peter want with you? And how is he back?” Scott sounds astonished,
and for this, at least, Stiles can’t blame him.
“I don’t know. And even if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
And Stiles has to admit that, although he always cheers for the good guys, a
small part of him always does admire the villains. And he kind of takes just a
little bit of perverse pleasure in saying what he says next.
“Because this is pack business. And you are not pack.”
Scott looks as if Stiles has punched him, and Stiles looks down. He doesn’t
like hurting anyone like this, but enough is enough. He’s done with this. If
they are to become friends again, it’s on Scott to make the right choices now.
“I…” Scott starts, and Stiles just looks up. They stare at each other, and none
can think of what to say. Things are just too raw to deal with right now, and
there’s not enough I’m sorry in the world to undo what’s been done.
Stiles shrugs, and Scott nods at him, leaving.
“Wait.” He says, and Scott stops, turning to him with a hopeful look in his
eyes. Stiles gathers his courage, and digs something out of his pocket.
A key.
He reaches out, giving the key to Scott, and the other boy knows it’s the key
Stiles had made – the key to Scott’s house. Scott looks like he wants to say
something, but Stiles just presses the key to his hand, and turns his back.
Eventually, the other werewolf leaves, and he listens to Scott saying good
night to his dad, and drops on the bed, feeling exhausted and awful and guilty.
His eyes are stinging, and he thinks all he wants right now is sleep. It’s too
freaking much – it’s Peter after him, and Jackson at school, and Scott being a
stupid moron, and Derek kissing him, and he needs a break.
“Hey, son, is everything okay?” His dad is leaning against his door frame, and
he stares at the man, sighing from his spot on the bed.
Maybe he should just take everything out of the way, like ripping a Band-Aid.
Then he could deal with everything at once, which is pretty much the same as
dealing with nothing of it at all, because it’s just too much, and he will
refuse to think about it.
He sits up, and his dad takes that as an invitation to enter his room. Stiles
pats the bed, and his dad cracks a small smile.
“I need to tell you something.” He says, and his voice is suspiciously rough.
He keeps on blinking, and takes a deep breath, and thinks it won’t help him any
if he starts crying while telling his dad he’s a werewolf – actually, it might
actually help him.
Huh. Maybe he’ll cry just a bit after all.
“Are you sure you want to do it now? You’re making this sound awfully serious,
and I heard you and Scott screaming at each other here. You’ve never done this
before.” He looks as if he doesn’t even want to make the offer, his dad knows
this has to be something important, but he’s always willing to give whatever it
is that Stiles needs.
God, this is going to be hard.
“No. I want to… to come clean to you.” He looks at his dad, and sees he’s
starting to get worriedly suspicious. It’s a kind of look he has only ever seen
on his dad – the kind of look that says, oh my god, I’ll be so angry, and yet
I’ll want to support you. Stiles looks down, and starts fiddling with the hem
of his shirt. It’s now or never.
Never does sound good. How does someone even tell a parent they’re a werewolf
now? Hey, dad, remember how I’ve always said dogs were gross? Well, now I’m
one! Kind of.
Bad. Bad, bad, bad.
“Stiles?” His father inquiries as he’s lost in his own little world, and he
sighs again.
“Okay. I can do this.” His dad looks as if he wants to smile now, but he keeps
quiet. Quiet and calm and steady and there, as he’s always been. Stiles has no
idea what he’s done to deserve such an amazing guy as his father, but he’s not
complaining, “Okay, here’s the deal. There’s a lot going on in Beacon Hills
that you don’t know about, and it’s crazy, because you’re the freaking Sheriff,
and you should know everything. You should be the Gordon in this town, and
Batman should trust you with everything, okay? But this’ll be hard to believe,
and I need you to let me get everything out first, and then I need you to know
I can prove everything I say. Okay?”
His dad looks a little lost, and Stiles knows he needs a minute to separate the
valid comments from the blah blah blah his speech has. It’s a talent.
“All right. What do you have to tell me?”
Stiles breathes in deeply, and lets it all go in a whoosh.
“First, I’m gay now. And I’m kind of committed, as far as I know, because I
have a certain suspicion the guy I’m with is not the sharing type.”
John looks divided between being angry and being amused.
“We’ve had this conversation, Stiles, you’re not gay.” He says while he, honest
to God, facepalms.
“Maybe not, but I was out with this guy, that’s why I was late. He picked me up
at school, and we went out, and talked, and we kissed, and now I’m kind of his,
you know? Serious shit.” He confirms it with a nod of his head, and his dad
starts to look as if he believes him.
“Who’s this guy? Is that why you’re upset with Scott?” His dad says, looking
like he’s humoring Stiles.
“I’ll tell you who he is in a few minutes, when I get the rest of it out of the
way. And no, that’s not it, you know Scott has no problem with this kind of
thing – actually, he doesn’t even know about this. It’s… new. It’s just
happened. I don’t think anyone knows about it; just me, and this guy, and well,
you, because I thought that was the easiest point of this conversation – the
one it’d be easier for you to believe.”
“The easiest point to believe? Telling me you’re in a committed relationship
with another guy is not the hardest part of to believe in what you have to tell
me?” John looks startled and suspiciously amused – another one of the
expressions Stiles has only ever seen on his dad.
His dad has had to develop a whole new level of facial expressions to deal with
him. That’s how troublesome Stiles is. Normal, patented parent-related
expressions simply don’t cover the gamut of trouble he gets into.
“Yeah. But keep in mind I can prove it. All of it.”
His dad nods.
“Okay, son, spill it before I start thinking you committed a crime.”
Stiles laughs a little too nervously, and his dad narrows his eyes at him.
“Okay, the beginning then, ok? Remember the day you found me in the woods, when
I told you Scott wasn’t there, but he was, and he lost his inhaler?” His dad
nods again, “Well, Scott got bitten there by something. We thought it was a
rogue wolf, and that was bad enough, but then he started doing things. And
hearing things, and then we got into a small spot of trouble, and we thought
Derek was to blame, because he was all weird and creepy and just fit into the
whole bad guy model, only he isn’t, he’s never been the bad guy. But this is
for later, the thing is, what bit Scott was a werewolf. And Scott became one
too.”
“Stiles.” John says in an exasperated tone, as if he’s getting upset at being
told serious things would be told and then is caught up in some prank.
“I told you I can prove it! Just… Just wait, ok? Please, dad? I’m not having a
psychotic episode, I swear!”
John Stilinski actually looks as if he hadn’t thought about it till now but
he’s beginning to think that’s a good explanation.
“Please, just listen, ok? I can prove it.” He says again, and his dad sighs but
nods. “Alright. Anyway, things got tense and complicated, especially because of
the Argents and Derek, but we were dealing with it. I was dealing with it. We
actually thought the bad guy was dead and gone, but he kind of came back. And
that’s the part that actually has me telling you all this shit, because the bad
guy came back, and he’s kind of after me, and he almost killed me, and, well,
Derek? Derek Hale is kind of the Alpha of this… pack? And he changed me because
then I could heal. That’s what happened Friday night. I wasn’t at Isaac’s, I
was at Derek’s. I’m a werewolf, and this whole thing is just… there’s so much
more I have to tell you, and I also know exactly who – actually, what – killed
all those men in the station, but I have to convince you of this first, because
I think you won’t believe me when I tell it was a giant lizard being controlled
by Matt if you don’t believe I’m a werewolf now.”
They stare at each other, and John looks down, shaking his head, and then
looking up, looking completely pissed at Stiles.
“If you think this is funny or this is some weird prank you’re pulling, I swear
to God, Stiles…” But he doesn’t get to finish that, because Stiles is pulling a
pocket knife out of his drawer, and while his father is talking he slices it
through his hand. “What are you DOING?” His father yells, taking his hand into
his, making him drop the knife, and both of them stare at his palm.
And John stops trying to get Stiles to get up, because the cut is closing – as
easily and as simply as if someone was pulling an invisible zipper inside his
hand. The cut closes up in a matter of seconds, it isn’t a deep cut, and all
that’s left from it is the blood that spilled.
John raises his eyes and stares open mouthed at Stiles, his son’s eyes an eerie
greyish color, the color of ash that is still warm by the fire that has left it
behind.
“I told you I could prove it.” He says quietly, his voice deeper.
“My God.” John whispers, and Stiles takes a deep breath, calming his wolf down.
It’s not easy, but this is his dad, and he won’t hurt him. Never.
As John is still staring at his son, he sees Stiles’s eyes go back to normal,
and he’s left open mouthed, and feeling as if the whole world shifted under his
feet.
“That’s why no murder is making sense. That’s why there’s always so much
missing to make the cases look convincing, and that’s why you and Scott are
ALWAYS IN THE MIDDLE OF IT! By God, Stiles, what are you THINKING messing with…
with… WEREWOLVES?!”
Okay. In the various scenarios Stiles has imagined as to how this would go his
father being worriedly pissed at his talent to get into trouble wasn’t one of
them.
“I’m… sorry? In my defense, I didn’t even ask to be turned; and I had to take
Scott being co-captain, and getting kissed by Lydia, and being shoved around as
the sidekick, and I took it all calmly. I wouldn’t have been changed, ever, if
I had any say in it, but, apparently, I smell too good for my own good?” He
finishes with a cheeky smile, and John shakes his head, staring at Stiles,
clearly not knowing what he should do.
“I need you to… To tell me what this… means. And, those things in the police
station? The Matt boy. What was he? And what killed those officers? Gods,
Stiles, was that a wolf? I don’t… I don’t even know what to ask you.” He
finishes, and Stiles pats him on the shoulder.
“If I were you, I’d just take it in stride, dad. Don’t even think about
rationalizing this stuff, because it’s not worth it.” John gives a startled
laugh, and Stiles looks down, smiling just the tiniest bit bitterly.
“I really am sorry, dad. For everything. I just… I wish I could keep out of
trouble sometimes, you know? You don’t… You don’t deserve this shit.” He’s
looking down, and the tears that were threatening to make an appearance before
come again. He blinks hard, once, twice, and his throat is closing on him. He
can’t swallow properly.
His dad is quiet, and Stiles can’t quite make himself look at him and maybe see
him agreeing that yes, he’s way too much trouble. He’s too much to be dealt
with. He’s always getting into situations where his dad is the one that has to
come up to his rescue, and he’s not easy to be around. It’s ADHD, and his mood
swings, and his werewolfishness, and his existence pretty much.
“Is that what you think, son?” John asks, and Stiles risks a peek at his
father’s expression, looking up at him with his head still bowed, his eyes
trimmed with tears he’s trying very hard not to let fall.
He shrugs, and looks down again, because his dad is doing the you can’t tell
what I’m thinking look, and that’s never good.
Stiles feels his dad’s hand on his shoulder, and he lets out a small sob,
because he can’t hold it in – it’s not quite a sob, it’s a whoosh of air he
can’t keep and that makes his shoulder shake just a bit. Sobbing is for girls,
he’s a tough werewolf now, he’s done sobbing.
“Stiles, look at me.” When he keeps refusing to raise his head, his dad comes
closer, and put one of his arms around him, pulling him close, “Look at me,
son.”
He lets his eyes finally meet his dad’s, and there’s nothing there but love,
and acceptance, and a tiny bit of grief.
“No matter how much trouble you get into, it’s never going to be trouble enough
to make me regret having you, or to make me not love you more and more every
day that passes by. You’re everything to me, son. And if this Hale changed you
because the other option was you dying, then we’ll just deal with this thing,
as we’ve dealt with everything else that’s come into our lives.” He stares at
Stiles seriously, and the boy can feel a few tears sliding down his cheeks. His
father smiles sadly at him, “Sometimes I feel I didn’t do a good job after your
mom…” His voice stops working, and he swallows hard before continuing, “After
she passed away. You’re always taking care of me, and I do my best for you, but
I feel, sometimes, that you think I’d rather you weren’t here, and, Stiles,
that’s the only thing I’ll never, ever wish, son. You are everything to me.”
Stiles suddenly can’t take it anymore, and he throws himself at his dad, who
holds him with everything he has, and he lets all the tears out. His father
rubs his back, and he knows the man is crying too. They used to never let the
other see them cry, in those first days when his mom had passed away, but one
day he was crying alone, and his dad walked in on him, and he didn’t say
anything, he just sat by side, and let him cry – and cried with him. And that
seemed to make things a little less bad.
This was it, all over again. Stiles doesn’t even know why he feels so bad about
all of this, because rationally, he knows it’s not really his fault – not his
been bitten, anyway -, but he feels as if he’s letting his dad down again, and
now the man has to deal with this too.
He just wanted once, just once, not to have to burden his father more and more
because he’s a magnet for trouble – but it warms his heart to know his father
is not lying.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers, and his dad doesn’t answer, he just holds him.
Things are quiet for a few moments, and Stiles at least tries to get himself
back together. He finally gets away from his dad’s embrace, and the man is just
looking at him as if he’s trying to gather whether Stiles is going to have a
mental breakdown or something.
“Well, now you have the dog you’ve always wanted and I never let you get.” He
says, and his father snorts a bit, shaking his head. He’s about to say
something when Stiles holds a hand up, and sniffs the air. His father looks
confused by this, but does keep quiet.
Stiles goes slowly to the window, and sniffs again.
“Shit.” He says, and John looks worried.
Stiles moves away from the window, locking it, and is already taking his phone
out of his pocket, dialing hurriedly, and pulling his dad by the hand after
him, going downstairs, to the kitchen.
“Stiles, what is it?” John asks.
“Just… Shit, Derek!” He screams when the person on the other end of the phone
call answers, “He’s here.” He says, and his voice is full of fear.
“I’m on my way.” Derek answers and the line goes dead.
“Stiles!” His father says, but there’s a crash in one of the windows. They hear
glass breaking and a long, drawn out snarl.
There’s scratching on the ceiling, and Stiles and John both know there’s
something upstairs.
The Sheriff takes his gun out of its holder, and Stiles actually tries to shove
his dad behind him, and they have half a fight over who is going to be in front
of whom.
The scratching gets worse, and reaches the stairs.
“Come on, Derek.” Stiles says, and he can practically feel his dad staring at
him at this.
But then his attention is taken away from Stiles’s apparently trust in the
accused murderer, because there’s a freaking half-wolf coming down the stairs.
He drags his nails on the walls, drawing out the sound, his shadowy form
becoming clearer and clearer. The eyes are the first thing they can see, a
bluish glow, spiking blue and normal, as if it can’t decide on what to truly
be.
“Ah, my little puppy. Hiding behind daddy, dear?” His voice is rough and
mocking, and Stiles absolutely freezes.
This is not some crazy, raging, murdering werewolf. This is a conscious Peter
Hale, here not to kill him, but to do something much, much worse than that.
“What do you want, Peter?” he says, taking a few steps back, and his voice is
not half as firm as he’d like, but Peter’s attention is not on him, it’s on his
dad and the gun he’s got pointed at him.
“How about you tell your dad you’re coming with me, and I don’t kill him before
I take what’s mine, huh?” The man suggests, coming closer slowly.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” John says, and shoots.
Peter screams, his voice loud and half animalistic, but Stiles knows it’s just
from the pain – he’ll heal, and then they are screwed.
The older werewolf roars, and starts shifting, snarling the whole time.
“Dad! You have to get out of here!” Stiles screams, but his dad won’t budge.
“What can kill that thing?” He simply asks, all business, and Stiles shakes his
head, and the wolf is coming towards them. He screams, trying to protect his
dad with his body while his dad tries to do the same with him, but the hit
never comes.
Because through the open window in the living room a much bigger wolf’s come
in, and he knocks Peter out of his jump, breaking the kitchen table in the
process. Stiles looks on, not knowing what to do. Change and help Derek? But
what if he loses control and hurts his dad?
His father, on the other hand, is shooting at Peter – not a single miss, and he
doesn’t hurt Derek even once. Oh, well, nice to know his dad won’t be shooting
the nice wolves then.
The two tear half their house apart, and it isn’t a pretty sight. Peter might
be smaller, but he’s more experienced, and he’s got the whole crazy thing on
his side. But Derek is an Alpha with three Betas and a Mate – not claimed, but
his all the same. He keeps knocking Peter down, and the wolf gets up every
time, defending itself, and trying to get at Stiles. He and his father end up
simply trying to keep out of the way when John realizes his shooting is not
even slowing the smaller wolf down anymore, and they end up at a corner in the
kitchen, losing sight of the fight when Derek throws Peter into the living
room.
There are roars and snarls, and suddenly a yelp of pain and crashing glass.
Stiles is breathing hard, and trying to go to the other room to check on Derek,
but his dad’s hand is holding him, dragging him behind John.
They take two careful steps towards the living room when Derek shows up – not
changed anymore, just reddish eyes, as if they don’t quite want to turn back
into green yet.
Derek makes a beeline for Stiles, not even sparing John a glance, taking him by
the arms, and looking him over.
“What did he do?” He bites out in his very pleasant and polite manner, as
always, and Stiles just shakes his head vehemently.
“Nothing. He didn’t even touch me, I swear.” He says, and Derek keeps on
looking, making Stiles nervous, “Dad shot him, though!” He says, but Derek
doesn’t seem to hear him, making a broken kind of sound, as if he’s trying very
hard not to do something.
And the something becomes clear when he pulls Stiles to him and kisses him hard
and bruising. It’s fast and hot and fearful. His mouth barely has the time to
respond when Derek lets him go, staring at him again.
“Mine.” He snarls, and Stiles nods along.
“Yours.” He confirms it, because Derek looks on the verge of wolfing out again.
They stare at each other for a few seconds, and suddenly there’s the sound of a
throat cleaning, and Stiles closes his eyes. He feels Derek shift a bit, and
when he risks a look, he sees his dad with the gun still in his hand, looking
at them – and he is not happy.
“So, dad, about that whole I’m with a guy thing? This is him.” He says with a
nervous smile.
This is going to be so awkward.
                          Leave me by the churchyard
                              Leave me on my own
Chapter End Notes
     I must confess one of the things I most enjoy about this ship is the
     fact that Stiles is the Sheriff’s son. It’s just so bahsdfg can’t
     even.
     Thank you for your amazing support, it means the world to me that
     you’re enjoying it! Hope you liked this one too! New chapter will be
     up tomorrow, tell me what you think!
     REVIEW!
***** Something Is Explained *****
Chapter Notes
     So, from now on, this is officially AU – although a few bits and
     pieces of it will coincide with the show, because the basic ideas are
     the same. Also, because Peter is becoming so entertaining. Hehehehe.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Pale Horses
                            Something is explained
There’s silence in the kitchen, and Stiles alternates looking at his father and
at Derek, who are staring at each other for what could be hours, but it’s
actually just a few seconds.
It occurs to Stiles that Derek is officially dating the Sheriff’s son.
He has to bite his lip to keep from laughing, but a small sound escapes his
mouth, and the other men in the room turn to look at him.
“Er… Sorry. Just… Nervous habit. Sorry.”
“Son, I’m going to need a very good explanation about what the hell just
happened here, because half our house is wrecked, and I am on my very last
nerve.” John says it all very calmly, and his eyes are on Derek the whole time
he speaks. Stiles looks up, thinking about what he should do – maybe it’d be
easier if he sent Derek away.
As if sensing his thoughts, Derek looks at him and shakes his head.
“I’m not leaving you.” He says with finality, eyes narrowing when it looks like
Stiles is going to argue, and Stiles sighs.
“Stiles.” His father says as a warning, and he tries to raise his hands in
surrender, but he can only do it with his left hand – his right one is attached
to the arm Derek is holding.
“Mind letting it go there, buddy?” He asks, looking at the hand on his arm, but
Derek doesn’t move, he just stares at Stiles and growls in annoyance. It seems
he spent his whole talking quota earlier at his place, there are no words left
in Derek Hale.
“Okay, maybe we should all sit down and talk, okay?” He says, sensing the
atmosphere growing tenser, because his father has gathered that whatever is
going on between them is not exactly puppy love. It’s something more, and that
is bothering him.
He looks around the room and frowns. The kitchen table is in pieces, two of the
chairs died with it too. He remembers the sound of crashing coming from the
living room and doesn’t even want to think about the state that’s going to be.
“How about we go to the dining room?” He says brightly, already starting to
make his way through the pieces of cheap wood and metal on the floor. His
father looks at Derek, and the man follows, not letting go of Stiles’s arm.
John is the last to get into the room, choosing to sit with his back to the
door, blocking the exit.
That’s just… great. Overprotective dad and crazy Alpha mate in a little room.
Just… Just amazing, everything Stiles has always wanted the beginning of his
first relationship to be.
“How about you two begin explaining to me how you are now together, and then we
can move on to the werewolf tearing my house apart?” John is doing his menacing
sheriff thing, and Stiles looks down, and fights the urge to hit his head on a
wall. Or the table. He’s not picky. Because he knows Derek, and the man is just
a disaster waiting to happen; he has no charisma and no desire to make other
people like him, he won’t be polite to John, and John will be pissed, and
things will go down badly, Stiles can feel it in his bones.
“The two are connected, sir.” Derek says, his voice normal and even, his
expression completely polite and serious. Stiles might just die of shock as he
stares open mouthed at Derek. Apparently, his bones are not to be trusted when
it comes to the Alpha.
“How?” John presses and Derek seems to be considering what he’ll have to
explain to make John understand.
“What did Stiles tell you already?” He asks back, and John stares at him
distrustfully, “Just so I know how much background I’ll have to give you, sir.”
He continues, and John continues to look at him through narrowed eyes, but he
answers.
“The basics. Werewolves, you changing him to save his life, Scott being
bitten.”
“Nothing about the different kinds of werewolves?”
“No.” Stiles answers, making Derek look at him sharply, “There was no time.
Scott’s been here, and when I finally started telling dad, Peter showed up, and
I called you.”
Derek nods at him, and looks back at John Stilinski, the Sheriff.
His hand is now on Stiles leg. Stiles notices the move, and fidgets on his
seat.
“There are different kinds of werewolves - a hierarchy, if you’d like. The lone
wolves, such as Scott and Peter, they are called Omegas. The ones who have a
pack they belong to are called Betas, and the leader of a pack is an Alpha.
They have different strengths, and a werewolf with a pack is always stronger.
The more betas an Alpha has in his pack, the more powerful he is.” He looks at
John, who nods, showing he’s following Derek so far.
“So Stiles is a Beta of your pack?” He asks, and Derek shakes his head.
“No. Stiles is… he’s different. He’s none of those things, Stiles is a Mate.”
“I don’t quite like the sound of that.” John says, and Stiles laughs, because
come on, he would have said the same thing. Derek and John stare at him
together, and he holds his hands up, surrendering. Let them bond over his
randomness, it’s cool, he can take it.
“It means he brings strength to the pack in a different way. Only an Alpha can
truly have a mate. The Alpha who bites a potential mate becomes… possessive of
their mate. They are connected, even if they are not… claimed.” And for the
first time ever Stiles sees Derek blush. He fights not to laugh again, and
bites his lips to stop it. “I had to bite Stiles because Peter sensed that in
him – it’s a quality that comes through even as a human. Stiles takes care of
things, of people he considers his pack. You, Scott, the red headed girl. Peter
was an Alpha, but he lost it, and he tried to claim Stiles, biting him. I had
to change him, or he’d die. When I did it, my wolf saw Stiles as… mine.” He
explains, and looks down, as if he’s ashamed of admitting it. “I feel very…
strongly about him.” He continues, and Stiles is the one who has to deal with
being blushing now.
He kind of feels very strongly for Derek too – like very strongly like being
thoroughly kissed by him at every second, and the thought of being claimed kind
of makes him all tingly inside.
Not that he’ll ever say any of those things aloud.
“Are you two in love?” His dad asks, and the two younger men stare at him as if
he’s asking them to please dance the can-can.
“That’s not quite how this works.” Derek says tersely, and the hand on Stiles
leg grows tense.
“So you’re telling me you feel entitled to come into my house, saving of our
lives notwithstanding, kiss my kid in front of me, and then tell me you’re not
in love with him?”
Stiles can’t resist the urge anymore, and hits his head on the table twice,
before Derek puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
“Dad, don’t… just… Argh. Man. No.” He mumbles very coherently.
“We weren’t involved before Stiles was bitten, and that happened two days ago.
I had felt Stiles potential towards being a mate, but I didn’t want to turn
him, because he had said before he didn’t want to. I wouldn’t force myself on
someone like that – but now that it has happened, now that he’s my pack, I
would never let him go. He’s a part of my pack, mine to protect and care for. I
won’t lie and say I’m in love with him to give you peace of mind when it’d be a
lie. I will, however, say that he’s more important to me than any other person
alive on Earth right now, and I will always protect him.” Derek’s eyes never
waver from John’s, and his voice is firm, even if it sounds as if he’d rather
never voice all those words at once. He must be breaking records here on the
number of words said by him in a single day.
“Good enough.” John says, and then he turns to look at Stiles, who’s feeling
just the tiniest bit overwhelmed, “Stiles? What do you have to say?”
Stiles looks at his dad, and then at Derek, and he tries to think of something
to say that will be as meaningful or as incredible as what Derek has just said.
But he can’t.
He knows Derek is not lying, and he kind of likes Derek now. He knows he feels
attracted to him, even when he didn’t like Derek and thought he was a murderer
he could see the man was attractive – that day with Danny was proof enough.
What’s he going to say? Yeah, I care for him, but God help me if I fall in love
with him, because he sure as hell can do what he wants to me, but I know he
could never love me?
It’s not like it was with Lydia. He knew he had no chance there. Taking her to
the dance had been amazing, and yet, he knew she had been looking out for
Jackson the whole night. He knew he’d never get her, and it was kind of a
safety net: knowing you can’t have it. It stops you from hoping it’ll work, and
that the person you want will actually want you back.
He gets tense, and Derek is looking at him with concern in his eyes, his father
waiting patiently for an answer.
“I… uhm… This is it, right? I know I… I can’t seem to even care for anyone else
like… that. So. That’s it, I guess. I’m kind of… Derek’s.” He says with a
shrug, but he can actually see the smug smile Derek has when he says it, and
Stiles shakes his head.
Damn smug, pretentious, sour wolf.
John shakes his head, but he looks a bit relieved at their answers. It hits
Stiles that his dad – out of this whole mess, the whole craziness, with his
house torn apart and werewolves becoming real – still only wants him to be
happy.
“What about this Peter? How much of a threat is he to Stiles?”
“Not a really terrible one, but he’s a problem I have to deal with. He won’t
get to Stiles, I won’t let him, but his coming here was way too daring for his
status. He must want something, or know something that’s making him seek power
so recklessly.” Derek says, clearly trying to understand what could have his
uncle this desperate.
“What about the Argents?” Stiles suggests, “They did make the whole mess at the
station, and I’ll bite my own arm off if Matt killed himself. Also, there’s
Jackson, and he is a threat.”
“What do you mean, the Argents? And who’s Jackson – Lacrosse captain Jackson?
The guy who has a restraining order against you?” John says, and Stiles
actually grins, because now he can explain.
“I was TRULY trying to help him. He turns into this thing we call a Kanima,
which is basically a giant lizard thing with poison, and he was killing people,
because Matt was making him. But at the time I locked him up we didn’t know it
was Matt – I told Scott I didn’t like the guy, but he never listens to me, and
I’m always right.”
“Your Lacrosse captain killed all those man?” His dad repeats, and Stiles
actually winces.  Maybe he said a bit too much?
“He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He isn’t even aware he’s changing.” He adds,
“Matt was controlling him, but now we don’t know who is, or even if there is
someone controlling him. We’re working on it, though.”
John looks as if he’s about to explode with exasperation.
“Stiles, you shouldn’t be working on ANYTHING. It’s not your responsibility!
Why are you even in the middle of this, why didn’t you look for help?”
“We had help! We had Allison and… Well, her - me and Scott and her, and Derek
and the rest of the pack. But now it’s all a mess, because Scott is betraying
us for the Argents, and…”
“What the hell do the Argents have to do with it?” His father growls and it
occurs to Stiles that he’d make a damn impressive werewolf with a growl like
that.
He looks at Derek, who’s quiet and unmoving.
“A little help here?” he asks, and Derek actually smirks at him.
“I think you’re doing very well on your own.”
“Why am I even your mate?” He says quietly, and looks at his dad seriously.
“Okay. The Argents? Werewolf hunters. I’ll tell you everything from the
beginning.” He says, and they settle for what will be some very long hours,
telling John Stilinski all the things he’s never known about quiet Beacon
Hills, and all the things he’ll know how happened, but will never be able to
explain in the eyes of the law.
Four hours later, at nearly 2am, John is an informed man. Derek and Stiles
manage to tell him basically everything he needs to know so he won’t put
himself in danger when he’s around town, and he swears he’ll pay a visit to the
veterinarian in the morning for something to protect himself from wolves and
werewolves and to try and stay clear of Jackson.
“How did I miss all of this?” He asks, looking more bewildered than anything
else, and Stiles feels incredibly guilty again.
“I’m very good at hiding things?” He says with an apologetic shrug, and the
Sheriff looks at him unimpressed, “Okay, I’m so not helping my case here. I’m
sorry, dad.” He says and he means it.
But even if he’s sorry, he’d do it all again, because he feels that, had he
still been human, he wouldn’t have told anything to his dad.
It was safer like that. But now safer is not on the menu anymore, so he’s
rooting for cautious and alive.
“We should all just… sleep. You have school tomorrow, and I have to find an
explanation for all the mess at the station that won’t involve me being sent to
a psychiatric ward.” He says, getting up.
“If you don’t mind, I’m staying here, downstairs. I don’t think Peter will do
anything stupid like this again, but I’ll be more reassured if I can stay.”
Derek says in a controlled way, and Stiles starts to get the feeling that
things are way more serious than he knows.
His dad stares at him and then at Derek, and nods.
“No funny business under my roof, you hear?” He says, pointing a finger at
Derek, and Stiles is left to die of embarrassment for the third time that
night.
“Geez, dad, we, like, kissed! Twice! I can’t even, argh.” He says, and his dad
actually smiles at him.
“Up with you, kid.” He points to the door, and Stiles looks between Derek and
his father for a moment. Derek gives him what he thinks is supposed to be a
reassuring look, but all it does is make him even more nervous.
“Okay. Good night.” He says, and climbs the stairs very slowly.
The two men left in the dining room don’t say anything until his steps can’t be
heard anymore, and they hear the soft click of a door closing.
John looks at Derek, and he knows it’s kind of ridiculous what he’ll do now,
because the man is a werewolf, he’s seenwhat he could do, but he has to,
anyway.
“That kid? He is a handful. He gave me more gray hair than all the crimes I’ve
seen at that station put together, but he’s my life. You hurt him, or you fail
to provide this protection you’re saying you’ll give him, a hair on his head
gets damaged because of you, and I’ll find a way to kill Alpha wolves, and you
are going down.”
He’s expecting Derek to agree to humor him, but that’s not what happens. The
man’s eyes go red, and he comes closer to John, looking threatening and
monstrous, and so much like a wolf even if he’s not changed.
“I won’t fail my mate.” He whispers, and John tries not to look scared.
He nods instead, looking at the Alpha in the eye.
“See that you don’t.”
He turns his back and goes upstairs, intent on sleeping.
When he opens his door, though, he’s surprised to see Stiles there, looking
like a little kid, twisting the hem of his shirt, sitting on his bed.
“He… ah… got in through my room. It smells like him there.” He says, and John
simply nods. He lies down on the bed, and Stiles climbs in it, and he can see
Stiles needs to be distracted from this Peter thing, or he’ll never sleep.
“I don’t like it that he’s so much older than you. And I don’t like it that he
speaks about you as if you’re his property.” He says, and he can feel his son
sighing in the dark.
“I kind of… I don’t know if it’s me, or just… wolfish feelings, or whatever,
but… I like it. It makes me feel… safe. Safer, at least. Like when… Like when
I’m with you, you know? Only different.” He admits, and John goes quiet.
They lie there, side by side, trying to sleep, and maybe they are successful,
because when Stiles becomes aware of things again, he’s alone in the bed, and
he can see the sun through the curtains.
He gets up with a strength of will he isn’t even aware of possessing, and goes
downstairs, where his father is cooking.
“Morning.” He mumbles, and sits at the table, dropping his head on it, his eyes
closed again.
“Morning.  I was going to call you soon, so you won’t be late.”
They fall silent again, and Stiles suddenly raises his head, staring at the
table.
“Hey, there’s a table here!”
He hears his father chuckling, and notices it’s the dining room table.
“Apparently, Derek’s been busy while we slept.”
“Oh. Where is he?”
His father shrugs.
“He wasn’t here anymore when I got downstairs. The table was here, though, and
all the rubble is cleaned up.”
“Huh.” Stiles comment, and starts on eating what his father’s prepared for
breakfast. He goes upstairs to get ready under protest, because the last place
in the whole world he wants to be in right now is his room, but all his stuff
is there, so he’s got no other option.
He takes a shower and throws the very first thing he can grab, getting his
backpack and leaving the room in record time. He gets his keys and yells a
goodbye to his father, getting out the front door, making his way to his jeep,
and opening the door, only to have it closed by an arm that is suddenly in his
field of vision.
Turning to look, he sees Derek, closer than anyone had any right to be, and
looking damn fine for someone who spent the night cleaning their mess of a
house.
“Good morning to you too.” He says, and Derek doesn’t even bother answering.
“I’m taking you to school today.” Stiles starts to protest, but a single look
at Derek’s annoyed expression makes his arguments die in his throat, “I’m also
picking you up afterwards, we need to train you. I’ve been working with the
others, you’ll join us.”
“Fine.” He says, walking to the black Camaro he knows and loathes and loves.
He gets in just in time to see his dad watching from one of the windows. Well,
at least now he knows Stiles won’t be alone.
The ride is silent, and Stiles spends it fiddling with his cellphone, not
saying a word to Derek. When they get to the school with half an hour to spare,
Derek actually parks the car and turns to look at him, clearly irritated.
“What is it?” He says, the ever present biting tone in his voice.
“What is it what?” Stiles retorts, intrigued.
“You’ve been quiet for the whole ride, Stiles. The only time I’ve seen you go
so long without talking was when you were unconscious.”
Stiles looks at him surprised and a bit offended.
“Wow, dude, chill. I didn’t talk because it’s early, and I haven’t had my
medicine today, because I want to see how this werewolf stuff will affect my
concentration and the ADHD. I didn’t talk because I thought you liked it when I
don’t talk, and I’m actually making an effort not to annoy you here, ok?”
Derek is quiet after that, and he looks at Stiles, searching his face for
something.
“Sorry.” He says after a while, and Stiles smiles at him.
“It’s okay. If you miss me speaking, don’t worry, I won’t be doing the quiet
thing again, ever. In fact, I’ll spend the rest of our lives together talking
non-stop, you’ll absolutely loveit. And I mean love it.”
Derek doesn’t even answer, he just gets out of the car, and Stiles frowns,
confused, before getting out too.
They had gotten there early, but by now the parking lot is beginning to fill up
with the other students, and they aren’t being discrete in their interest for
Stiles and the super-hot ex-murder accused Derek Hale in the same car.
“What are you doing?” Stiles hisses when Derek leans on the car, against the
passenger door. On the other side of the parking lot, Stiles sees Erica and
Boyd. They wave, and he waves back, looking back at Derek, “Well?” he prods,
but Derek smirks, not the you’re screwed smirk, but the I’m about to screw you,
and you’ll love it smirk, and pulls Stiles against him, holding him in place
with an arm around his waist, and a hand on his neck.
“I’m proving a point.” He says, pulling Stiles to him for a kiss.
It’s different, this time. This is a kiss that’s not testing the waters, it’s
also not just to reassure Derek that he’s alive and well – this is a kiss for
show. For the others. Derek’s hands are tight against him, and he falls forward
with not a thought in the world, his backpack falling down before he puts his
own hands on Derek’s shoulders, holding on to dear life.
Their lips move against each other lazily, slowly, and half way through it they
break away from each other, but they don’t let go. Stiles looks at Derek, and
Derek gives him half a smile, which is a lot more than he was expecting.
“Are you making some move I’m not aware of here? Some strategy?” Stiles asks,
and Derek pulls him close again.
“Yeah, I’m proving a point. I’m proving to this whole school, and all of the
Argents, and all of the girls and boys there that you are mine. That’s what I’m
proving.”
Stiles doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t want to analyze why his hearty races when
he hears that. He simply shakes his head, smiling just a little bit.
“Possessive bastard.” He says, but leans in again, and for the very first time,
he initiates the kiss, with Derek kissing him back and dominating the kiss soon
after.
They break apart when they hear a catcall, and turning, they see Erica looking
at them with amusement in her eyes.
“Very nice show, but this is a school. You guys can get to third base when
you’re alone, okay?”
Derek throws her an unimpressed look, and she lowers her head just a bit, but
Stiles actually smiles, pecks Derek on the lips once more, and moves away from
him, picking up his backpack.
“I’ll be here to watch your practice.” Derek says, and gets in the car.
Stiles stays there, watching him leave, and then he turns to Erica and Boyd,
and also Isaac, who showed up too. He has a huge grin on his face.
“Guess you figured what the whole mate thing was about, huh, Stiles?” Erica
teases, and Stiles refuses to blush.
“Yeah, we sort of did.” He gets a faraway look on his face, but is suddenly
brought back to Earth when he sees Jackson and Danny watching him, “I’ve got a
whole other set of things to tell you three though, and none of them are quite
as pleasant and my making out with the hottest guy in this whole town.” He
finishes with a grin, and Erica answers it in kind, while the four of them make
their way into the school.
“Oh, but I want all the details.” She says, and they get into the school,
missing the look Jackson is giving them.
And that kind of look can never mean anything good.
Some will come and take me,
back to my old home
Chapter End Notes
     Next chapter there’ll be some Derek POV, because he deserves it.
     Don’t abandon us now that we’re not following canon anymore!
     Let me know what you thought of the chapter!
     REVIEW!
***** Something Goes Wrong *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry I’m updating later than I planned! But I was at work, and
     didn’t have the time to review this earlier.
     Hope you all enjoy Derek’s POV!
     There’s a backward time-skip here. It goes back to when John leaves
     the living room.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Pale Horses
                             Something Goes Wrong
Derek watches as John goes upstairs, and he sits back down, looking at the
table in front of him, but not really seeing it.
Thing is John Stilinski kind of makes him think about his mother.
He doesn’t know how he feels about that – he doesn’t really know how he feels
about a lot of things these days, and this is not something he’s used to having
to deal with. He’s good with hatred, anger, loathing, rage – he can handle
them, it’s pretty much all he’s been dealing with for many, many years now.
Laura had tried to move on, but he couldn’t take it, he couldn’t forget it, and
sometimes he allowed himself to completely drown in the knowledge that Laura
had probably come back to Beacon Hills to maybe find some closure – for him.
Always for him.
She had been his Alpha, and he had left her, because he didn’t want to deal
with anything. He wanted to bury it deep, and leave only the darkest feelings
on the surface, always boiling, always raging, because he was the reason his
whole family was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it.
It wasn’t that he thought it was his fault – it truly, and completely, was. He
had let himself become involved with Kate, let himself believe an older girl
would find him awesome and amazing and powerful, because that’s how he used to
see himself as those days: invincible. It didn’t matter that Laura was going to
be Alpha after his mom, he’d never wanted that kind of responsibility, but he
used to love knowing he was stronger and faster than all his friends; that he
had powers, and he could heal from anything. He loved being a wolf.
And Kate had taught him to hate what he is, what he had been born as.
He came back looking for his sister and he found half her body. He had hoped
he’d be able to find his uncle, and what he had found was an empty shell filled
up with madness and meanness, seeking to hurt and destroy and kill everything
in his path, for power and vengeance.
All he wanted to do was clean up this mess and… leave.
He has a pack, sure, but up till two days ago that didn’t mean he had a family
back. None of them would care if he lived or died, as long as they had their
powers to make their lives better – that was the reason he had chosen them,
after all. Damaged, insecure, shy and outcast, that is how he picked his pack,
because anything would be better than what they had, and he was actually making
their lives better. When his clean-up was done, he’d leave, and they would be
his pack, but from afar. There was no reason for them to be together anymore.
But then Stiles happened. He loathed the boy from the very first time he’d seen
him – not because he had done anything wrong, but because Derek could just see
what he could become. The piece that would always be missing from any and every
pack he might join, because he would never, ever condemn anyone to be his mate.
He had threatened, and hurt, and screamed at him, and yet Stiles didn’t fear
him – not the way other people seemed to. Or maybe it wasn’t that Stiles didn’t
fear him, but only that he wasn’t afraid of being near him, simply because he
knew, just as Derek knew it too, he could never truly hurt him. He knew things
weren’t easy for Stiles, even if he didn’t quite know why the boy always smelt
like a strange combination of excitement and grief, as if a small piece of him
was always missing from the moment he was in. He hadn’t meant to get to know
Stiles so well as he seemed to have, but his wolf simply picked on those
things: his loyalty, his cleverness, his protectiveness over his friends and
his father; and every time he saw something truly good in Stiles he tried to
push him away more and more, so that he would never, ever give in and turn him.
Because having a Mate in his pack meant they weren’t just a bunch of
dysfunctional teenagers with an even more dysfunctional grown-up getting
together to fight something or other. It would mean they were a family – the
one thing he longed for, and was decided to deny himself from having. He didn’t
deserve a mate. It was as simple as that.
Stiles didn’t even notice how much the other three had come to care for him
already, the way they seemed to defer to Derek out of responsibility, but they
answered to Stiles because they knew, instinctually, he would try to do the
very best for them, because this is who he was. And that seems to be a pattern
with Stiles, he can see a lot from other people, he had taught Scott how to
focus and control himself better than Derek had, and he wasn’t a werewolf by
then, and all he had to go on was the Internet and instinct. He can see things,
and understand them, and see the potential in people – everyone but himself.
And a part of Derek, specially the part that comes with being an Alpha, wants
to find out why Stiles seems to think so lowly of himself. He wants to unveil
the teen, and figure him out, and he wants to kiss him, and claim him, and mark
him. He wants to have him, and hear him say again and again that he is Derek’s
with that awkward smile and a slight blush, and his heart beating so fast even
humans can hear it. But at the same time he wants distance from Stiles, he
wants to be as far away from him as possible, because Stiles is either going to
bring him out of his misery – and he can’t allow that, because he deserves to
be miserable and angry -, or Derek will drag Stiles down with him, making him
as unhappy and as full of self-loathing as he himself is. And the last one is
way more likely to happen, because Derek is sure, absolutely sure, he burns
everything he touches, and all that’s left is ash and death.
He sighs and gets up from his chair, going to the living room, and looking
around. The place is trashed – the coffee table is in pieces, and the sofas are
turned. The carpet is stained with blood and splinters, and there’s glass
everywhere. The kitchen is not much better, the table is a goner, there’s
nothing to do there, but most of it is in a better shape than the living room.
And there’s also Stiles’s room, where Peter came in.
He dares not going upstairs, though, but goes to try and find a broom, cleaning
the pieces of furniture and glass from the floor. He’s not very good at it, but
it’s better than nothing. After doing that, he manages to get the table from
the dining-room, and puts it in the kitchen. Stiles and his dad don’t strike
him as the kind of people who’d actually eat in the dining-room. They are the
eat-in-the-kitchen kind of people.
Like his family was.
But he’s not thinking about his family again.
What he has to think about is Stiles, and how he’ll handle this whole mess. The
boy doesn’t deserve to be miserable for something Peter’s done. His wolf,
Stiles’s wolf, wants his mate, just like Derek’s wants his; and it’s not like
it’s hard to give in to that part of the mating process. He doesn’t have a
problem with feeling attracted to Stiles, because the boy is very much
attractive. It actually confuses Derek that he doesn’t have anyone. He’s not
the classical male beauty, handsome and tough, but he is… something
undefinable, sweet and beautiful.
And he’s not going to think about this now. He needs to know what he’ll do, he
is the Alpha of this pack, he has a responsibility to all of them, and most of
all to Stiles.
Besides, he promised his dad he’d take care of Stiles, and if there’s one thing
John has made clear is that it’s not only his physical integrity that worries
him about Stiles.
The man just wants his son to be happy.
The only small problem with that is that he’s almost completely mated to Derek,
and that pretty much equals some sort of punishment.
He sits on a half ripped sofa, and lets his eyes close, even if he knows he
won’t be able to sleep – the smell of another wolf still lingers in the air,
and he’s too wired to relax and sleep. He needs to figure out what the hell
Peter wants.
Well, that’s actually not hard – Peter wants to kill all Argents, and Derek
can’t quite blame him. Gerard is turning out to be just like his daughter.
Chris is actually the most manageable out of the Argents left, he can be
reasoned with – up to a point.
Or could, up till his wife had gone and killed herself for being bitten. Hell,
that was some messed up crap. And now Allison wants to kill him, and he can’t
trust Scott. He has to find out what Stiles and he had talked earlier, maybe
there is salvation for that boy yet, but Derek knows he will never trust him
again, even if Scott submitted to him.
The ideal situation would be if Peter killed Gerard and got himself killed in
the process.  Now that was something Derek could root for, but he knew it’d
never happen. Another problem was the Jackson situation, and what to do about
it. The Kanima is a mutation of the werewolf gene that cannot fully transform
until it resolves that in its past which manifest it – it was what the Bestiary
said about the boy, but what the hell did he have in his past that wouldn’t
allow him to fully change into his wolf?
Why did all the creatures in this damn town have to be so full of angst and
self-deprecation they couldn’t even change normally? That girl, Lydia, that was
another problem he’d have to deal with soon. Actually, it was the easiest of
them all, but he didn’t quite trust himself to deal with facing her, and not
ripping her apart from the simple knowledge Stiles used to be in love with her.
Used being the keyword, because that was how Mates worked – he wouldn’t be able
to be in love with her anymore. Not really. That is, if Stiles had ever been
truly in love with the girl, anyway. It seemed to Derek he liked the idea of
how unattainable she was way more than her, but okay.  
He needs to figure out how they are going to do this. Sneak around town, be
together, protect Stiles from the Argents by not letting anyone know they were
together, or go ahead and make everyone in the world know Stiles was his now,
like his wolf really wanted to do?
What would it help if he tried to protect Stiles, anyway, if the boy was
already neck deep in the whole mess because of Scott? It actually surprises
Derek that Gerard hadn’t come after Stiles yet.
Gerard must have a damn good card hidden somewhere, from all the things he is
not doing, when he obviously can.
Or a huge weak point he doesn’t want to expose.
By making it clear that Stiles is his, he’ll actually protect him. The Argents
will be careful not to enrage an Alpha by messing with his mate, and they’ll
know to stay away. Also, they’ll know Derek has more power now, because of
Stiles. He stakes his claim, and people will be wary of him, and that’s good,
because while they update their plans to accommodate him and his mate, he has
the time to figure out how to deal with Peter.
He could have killed him today. He knows it.
And yet he couldn’t do it, because he had done it once before, and it had taken
him everything he had.
It’s his uncle. It’s someone who took care of him when he was little, and let
him have candy when his mom had said no. It’s the guy who gave him his first
beer when he was too young to drink, and who would laugh at him when he was
excited about some new thing he could do because he was a werewolf.
Peter wasn’t his favorite uncle, he wasn’t even that close to him – but he was
all that was left from his family. He felt… broken about what had happened. He
used to love this man, he knew he loved him back, and now he had killed his
sister, and tried to kill him, and wanted to steal his mate.
What was Peter doing?
He doesn’t have to question the why of it, though, he knows it. The loss, the
emptiness, the madness that comes every once in a while, of knowing everyone is
dead, and everyone is gone, and there is no one else left to live for.
Their family, their pack, the people they cherished, and loved, and adored, all
gone.
Because of Derek.
It’s more than losing a relative, or even a parent. A pack is not just a bunch
of people together for a fight, no matter how much he tries making it look so –
they are a unit. A bond with a pack is the most cherished thing for a werewolf,
and that feeling is intensified tenfold if you are a born werewolf. Derek was
born inside that pack, with that family, knowing no matter what happened, how
bad things would get in the outside world, there was a whole pack of people to
help him through it. It was more than a family, it was a part of him.
All gone. Forever. The pain would never subside, even if, at some point in the
future, he’d manage to be part of a true pack again; even if he claimed Stiles
truly and forever, and he had a mate and betas with him, the loss of his first
pack would never leave him.
And the guilt would never desert him, because it was all his fault.
Maybe that was why Peter kept trying to get Stiles away from him. Maybe he knew
Derek would never be good for the boy, would only make him miserable.
He sighed, looking around, and settling on staring out the window to the night
that slowly became morning, the sky full of pale lights and the orange glow
before sunrise.
There was so much to do, and definitely not enough time to do it all.
When he hears noise upstairs, he waits until he can hear Stiles’s father coming
down and leaves thorough the window. He goes to his place, takes a shower and
changes, before going out again.
He can’t claim Stiles. Maybe he never will – that would be too final, too
intimate, too much to handle -, but he will make every single person in the
whole town know that Stiles is his. Half the population is afraid of him for
crimes he didn’t commit, and the other half will be afraid of pissing off the
Sheriff, so they will be okay.
He hopes.
When he leaves Stiles in the company of Erica and the boys, he’s actually
feeling better. He can handle this, the physical aspect of their relationship,
he can definitely get used to it.
It’s the other part that makes him have dark thoughts, and maybe curse the fact
that he just couldn’t have let Stiles die.
                                       X
“What do you have to tell us?” Erica asks, as soon as they get into the school
and are out of earshot of lizards and other wolves.
Stiles turns to answer her, but stops, because with his daughter-in-law dead,
he was expecting Gerard to take a few more days to come back to school.
He clearly didn’t.
Coming straight towards them, Gerard pauses in front of the four teenagers, and
Stiles fights the urge to fidget, because damn, that guy is creepy.
“Mr. Stilinski, I’d like a word with you, if you don’t mind.”
“No.” Stiles says without thinking about it, because there’s no way in hell
he’ll go anywhere with that man – not even to his office.
“Are you denying my request as the Principal of this school to come with me,
Mr. Stilinski?” Gerard raises an eyebrow and stares, and Stiles looks around
him, trying to find a way out – anything.
But deep down, he already knows he’s screwed, because no excuse is an excuse
good enough for him not to obey their Principal.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t see why you’d have to talk to me.” He ends up
saying, and Erica looks at him as if he’s insane.
It’s the lamest excuse of all times, but he had to say something.
“Well, Mr. Stilinski, as an adult and a grandparent myself, I see that young
men like yourself have a difficult time keeping your personal affairs personal.
However, as a principal of this school I cannot allow a student of mine to
participate in such Public Displays of Affection with an older man,
nonetheless, and not inform your parents of it.” Gerard looks at Stiles again,
and raises his chin challengingly, “Come with me, Mr. Stilinski.”
“I can call my dad.” Stiles says hurriedly, dodging the hand that has come up
probably to drag him away to the principal’s office, “He knows about Derek and
mine… ah… relationship. He totally knows it. I can call him. You can call him
even.”
“And that’s all the more reason for you to come with me, Mr. Stilinski. If your
father doesn’t see the problems with such a relationship, then it’s about time
you talk to another adult.” And with this he grabs Stiles’s arm, and makes a
gesture indicating for him to come along.
This is it. He’s dead meat.
How could this man figure out this fast he’s turned?
Stiles looks back at Erica, who has her eyes wide, and the boys, who seemingly
don’t know what to do. He mouths “Call Derek” at them, and hopes for the best.
It’s not like the school was a safe place, anyway. He knew something like this
was bound to happen, he had seen how many times Scott had been in this
position, but he really had no idea it’d happen so soon.
He is royally screwed.
They get to the principal’s office, and Gerard lets go of his arm, pointing a
chair to him. He’s never been alone with the man before – this kind of
situation usually happens with Scott, not him. But he is one of the wolves now,
and he’s in some serious trouble.
What was Derek thinking when he made that show in front of the whole school
anyway? Stiles hopes to God there’s a better explanation for it than using him
as bait.
On second thought, had Derek used him as bait? Would he do that to a mate? The
whole thing had sounded so important to Stiles, and yet, had Derek done the
whole thing, staking such a claim, making it known he was his mate so that
Gerard would act without planning and make a mistake?
It made sense.
He tries to focus on Gerard for now, though, as the man has taken his seat, and
is doing the creepy stare thing.
“So…” Stiles says, just so there won’t be any silence anymore.
“Stiles…” The old man begins, smiling at Stiles in a way that makes his heart
freeze, “I can call you Stiles, right, my boy?”
Stiles nods for lack of having any idea as to how respond to that, and Gerard
smiles again.
This is going to be bad.
“Stiles, I’ve known you for being Scott McCall’s best friend, is that true?”
“Er… I… ah… Yeah, we’re friends. We had a fight, but we’re still… yeah.” He
says, and waits, doing his very best to keep quiet. He must be here for what,
five minutes? Is this time enough for Derek to be back at school?
If, of course, this isn’t exactly Derek’s plan.
“And as his best friend, you are, of course, aware of everything Scott is been
going through this year, I assume?” the man steeples his fingers and waits. He
looks like a chess player. He’s playing Stiles.
And that’s when Stiles realizes he doesn’t know Stiles has been turned. He’s
fishing for information.
Stiles takes a deep breath, and leans back on his chair. Okay, he can do this.
“What do you mean, sir?”
Gerard smiles again, leaning forward.
“Don’t play games with me, boy. You have been in all sorts of trouble with
McCall. You know what I mean.”
Stiles just shrugs and keeps quiet. If he can play dumb for long enough,
everything will be fine.
He hopes.
“Are you aware of your… friend’s condition?” There’s something in his tone that
clearly indicates that he’s not talking about Scott anymore, and Stiles simply
stares at the man again, trying to think of what to say.
And then he grins.
“Yes, sir. I am. Scott is sick. He’s very, very sick.” Gerard looks intrigued,
if nothing else, and Stiles keeps on grinning, “I mean, the way he moons over
Allison, that’s just… he really should be focusing on his studies now,
shouldn’t he? I see your concern, sir.”
“Stilinski, I am not a man who plays games, as your friend certainly has
probably made you aware of by this point.” His voice has turn cold and firm,
and he puts both his hands on the table, and maybe, just maybe, it irks Stiles
that even the freaking creepy Principal assumes Scott would have told him about
his threat, when he hadn’t, “I know you are not stupid, Stiles. What I do want
to know, though, is what Derek Hale has offered you so you would be… how do I
put this…” He pauses, as if considering, and then his smile turns into
something mean and hurtful, “oh, yes, his bitch?”
Stiles mouth actually hangs open, because, come on, this is the man who is
responsible for their school, damn it! No matter what werewolves do or don’t
do, how can he be in charge of something like this?
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” He answers, his voice showing how
upset he is at the man’s words.
But Gerard simply smiles again.
“What did he offer you, Stiles? To turn you? So you would be like your friend?
Is that it?”
Oh, please. Stiles feels like he could facepalm, but he doesn’t, because he is
incredibly afraid of what Gerard will do to him in return.
“I would never ask to be changed. I don’t see their furry problem as a perk in
any way, shape or form.” He says, his voice steady and even, because, well, he
is telling the truth.
He’s never asked for it. Peter asked him, and he said no.
And then Peter maimed him, and Derek had no other choice, but he didn’t ask for
it, never.
“I don’t truly understand you, young people from nowadays.” Gerard says in a
conversationalist tone of voice, and Stiles knows this is it – this is where he
gets away with it or something really, really bad is going to happen, “Maybe
with some help from a more… age appropriate friend I’ll have some insight.” His
smile is the creepiest thing Stiles has ever seen, and when he hears the door
open he turns.
And there’s Jackson, his eyes focused and lost, his expression blank, and a
whole side of his face is starting to be covered by scales – his right hand is
turned into claws.
Holy crap, Gerard is the new master of the Kanima. His eyes widen, and he
nearly trips getting up from the chair, his backpack falling on the floor.
“Mr. Whittermore, if you’d please.” He says, smiling, and Jackson comes after
Stiles.
He fights the urge to crouch and threaten – if he’s human, they’ll hurt him,
sure; but if they know he’s a werewolf, they’ll killhim.
Jackson attacks so fast he doesn’t even have the time to shift. A single swipe
of his clawed hand, and Stiles is, in less than a week, for the second time on
the floor, unable to move.
He really knows he’s screwed when Gerard nods to Jackson.
“Take him.” He says, and, like a sack of potatoes, Jackson throws Stiles on his
shoulder, carrying him out of the office, through the back door, and out of the
building, and into the trunk of a car parked behind the school.
He is completely screwed, for real this time.
                             Put me by the window

                              Let me see outside
Chapter End Notes
     Heeeeeehehehehe.
     Next chapter will be up about this time tomorrow!
     Tell me what you think about Derek’s thoughts on his relationship
     wirth Stiles!
     Thanks for all the amazing support!
     REVIEW!
***** Something Hurts *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry it’s a bit later than I planned, but I didn’t have the time to
     write earlier!
     Also, some of you pointed a few typos and mistakes on the last
     chapter – thank you! I think I’ve fixed the ones you mentioned and a
     few other things. Someone also suggested I should get a beta reader
     for it, BUT if I do find someone to do it, then you guys will have to
     wait longer for the chapters, and I prefer to give you faster
     chapters, and then correct whatever it is I let it pass the first
     time around.
     I did a new cover for it too, the last one was depressing me.
     Buckle up for the angst and tension, and enjoy the chapter!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Pale Horses
                                Something Hurts
Erica doesn’t even wait till they turn a corner, and she’s dialing Derek’s
number. He grumbles an answer, charming as always.
“Gerard’s taken Stiles to his office.”
She doesn’t wait for an answer, and hangs up because she knows Derek is turning
around and coming back for Stiles. She looks at Boyd and Isaac and they look
just as lost as she feels.
“What’s going on?” Scott says, having clearly just arrived at the school, and
picking up on the tension the other teens are showing, “Where’s Stiles?” He
asks, looking around, and Erica looks at Boyd and then at Isaac – because no
matter how much they hate Scott for betraying them, they still know he’d do
anything for Stiles, or at least this is what they hope.
“Gerard’s taken Stiles to his office.”
Scott’s mouth hangs open for a few seconds, and he looks around the hall, as if
he’s expecting Stiles to magically show up, saying it’s all a joke.
“Do you think he knows?” He asks, and Erica simply shrugs.
“I think he’s got a pretty good idea, what with Derek and…” But she doesn’t
finish speaking because Derek is coming through the main doors of the school,
looking as if he’s about to wolf out at any second. He sees the other four
werewolves and makes a beeline for them, unaware of the curious school
population, always eager for a gossip – and having the hot older boyfriend of a
guy they didn’t even know was into guys inside the school is bound to make for
some juicy stories.
“Where is he?” He says, and it’s clear he’s doing his very best not to look at
Scott, lest he loses control in the middle of a school full of teenagers.
“Principal’s office.” Erica answers, and that’s when Boyd reaches out to grab
Derek’s arm, making him look at Boyd as if he wants nothing more than to tear
him apart for it.
“Derek, we don’t know if he knows yet. You going in there might actually be
worse than just letting the whole thing play out.” The boy reasons, but Derek
is already shaking his head.
“We can’t leave Stiles with Gerard, that man is crazy!” Scott says before Derek
can argue Boyd’s statement, and all the others turn to look at him.
“Now it’s not the time. We’re going after him.” Derek says, and makes his way
to Gerard’s room, Scott hot in his heels, and the other three following without
question.
When they get there, however, the office is already empty.
Derek roars in frustration, throwing a chair at the wall, while the others look
around, trying to figure out where Stiles could be.
“This is all my fault.” Derek says, shaking his head.
“Derek, you couldn’t have known Gerard was going to…”
“I claimed him in front of the whole school to protect him! Gerard should have
gotten the message that he is my mate! But he didn’t, he thinks I’m toying with
Stiles, that’s why they’ve taken him. He doesn’t know he’s turned, or he
wouldn’t have taken him out of the school – he’s trying to use Stiles as bait,
for me.”
“Whoa, what mate? What are you talking about?” Scott asks, looking worried, but
Derek simply shakes his head, running his hands through his hair.
“Are you sure he doesn’t know?” Isaac asks timidly, and Derek shakes his head
again, not in denial, but as if he’s debating what to tell them.
“The Argents have been dealing with werewolves for centuries. Not even Gerard
would be stupid enough to go after a Mate like this. Not if he knew it. He
doesn’t know, he can’t know. If he does, and he did this anyway, then…” He
shakes his head one more time, turning his back on them, and all they can see
is how tense his back seems to be.
“So… Gerard took Stiles, because he thinks you’ll go after him, right?” Scott
says, and nobody answers. They might have let him be there in the name of his
past friendship with a member of their pack, but he sure as hell isn’t welcome,
“What about his dad? Yesterday, when we talked, Stiles said I was stupid for
not going to the Police when Gerard threatened my mom. Why don’t we go to the
Police now? Gerard has just kidnapped the Sheriff’s son.”
When he finishes speaking there’s silence in the room for a long moment, and
the Derek turns around.
“That would be putting Stiles’s father in danger.” He says quietly, looking
straight into Scott’s eyes, and he sees the boy shrug awkwardly.
“I think this is a risk Mr. Stilinski would want to take. It’s our best shot
too.”
Derek stares at him for a while longer, his jaw tight, and his whole expression
is deliberately controlled and cold.
He’s looks like he’s five seconds away from blowing up.
Finally he tears his eyes away from Scott and nods, seeing the boy dialing
John’s number.
All they can do is wait.
                                       X
The moment his phone rings, Derek knows it’s a problem coming up, he knows it’s
about Stiles, and he knows something has gone very, very wrong.
When Erica tells him Gerard’s got Stiles he swears to God he can’t see straight
anymore, he has tunnel vision, all he can see is Stiles, and the fact that
their most dangerous enemy has his hands on his mate.
He had barely left the school, so it doesn’t take him long to get back. All he
can think about is getting Stiles back, and possibly never leave him out of his
sight again, never, because that boy is the most troublesome person Derek has
ever met.
When he gets there, he barely even registers that Scott is there too, and he
listens with half an ear to the arguing against his going after Stiles, he
simply has to go. And then the office is empty, and it’s all his fault.
Again.
He explains his reasoning more to reassure himself than to make any kind of
sense or excuse to the teenagers with him – he claimed Stiles like that to
prove a point, to show the Argents he has a mate now, that he is more powerful,
and specially that Stiles has more protection than simply being the Sheriff’s
son: he is Derek’s. He has a pack.
But Gerard hadn’t understood the message, he thought Derek was messing with
Stiles, or God only knows what. The man probably thinks he’s playing with
Stiles, trying to seduce him into becoming a werewolf – he had done it before,
just look at Erica.
Scott finally shows that he has some brains when he reasons they can use the
Sheriff to get to Gerard, and he nods, letting the boy call John – Stiles is
going to be so mad at them for doing this, putting his dad in the middle of so
much danger – all because Derek can’t seem to plan a strategy out of a paper
bag.
He is the worst Alpha to ever walk the Earth, and Stiles is stuck with him, and
in danger because of him.
He can’t let them do this. He can’t let them take his family away from him
again, he just can’t.
He won’t be able to bear it. If anything happens to Stiles this is it for Derek
– not because he loves the boy already, or anything to that effect, but because
this would be the second time in his life where innocent people get killed and
hurt because of him, through his actions alone.
He destroys everything.
“I told him we’ll meet him at his place – he thinks it’s not a good idea to
involve all the police because Stiles is… well.” Scott trails off and shrugs.
Derek nods, and looks at the teens in front of him.
“I’ll go and meet the Sheriff, you four go on to class.” When they seem about
to protest, Derek actually growls at them, his eyes flashing red, making his
pack – and even Scott – look down, “I can’t simply pull four teenagers out of
school. Everyone will already be talking about Stiles going missing after the
show in the parking lot; I can’t be worrying about your parents or the police
asking me what I’m doing with four people who should be in school.”
He leaves, and the rest of the pack looks lost – and just a tiny bit abandoned.
                                       X
Scott doesn’t want to an Alpha. He thinks that’d be too much trouble and
hassle, but at the same time, he really doesn’t want to be an Omega, because
they are weaker, and him being weak could result in everyone he cares about
being dead.
Not good at all.
He is the very first to admit he has no idea what he’s doing all the time – he
goes with the flow. He’s used to it. If someone needs to think something
through, he’s got Stiles to actually point him the way – or, at least, he did.
And then he went and did the dumbest thing ever, like listening to Gerard
Argent, and he lost his best friend in the whole world to Derek Hale. He
doesn’t really know what the whole thing about a Mate is, but he’s pretty sure
that Stiles being one, and him being Derek’s, is a sure way of Scott losing him
forever.
So he spends the night, for the first time since Allison has told him to go
away, thinking about something other than his heartache. He thinks about
Stiles. He stares at that damn key and thinks about all the times his friend
has saved him and come to his rescue, and considers how many times he’s done
the same.
The final count is very, very low on his part. Truth is that, when Stiles was
in danger, real danger, he had been saved by his dad, or Erica, and mostly by
Derek.
Or himself. Stiles is good at getting away with and from things, and Scott
always trusted that ability of his friend, and never really stopped to think
that Stiles, as a human, was so much more fragile than him. He never
realizedhow hard it must be for Stiles to cope with everything, and be left in
the dark, and simply know that in an actual fight he’s a liability and not
help.
He was, actually. Not anymore. Stiles has a whole pack of people, and Scott is
not afraid to admit that hearing Stiles say that he wouldn’t tell him something
because he was not pack hurt him deeply. He had always considered Stiles his
pack. His safety net, in a way. The person he could call when things got really
ugly, the one who helped him through his change, and believed he could not kill
anyone just so he could play Lacrosse.
God, he feels like such an idiot – all the problems and stress he put Stiles
through just so he could show off during a game, while Stiles, when faced with
the chance to be one of the best, had let it go – because that is Stiles,
always thinking about everyone, never really thinking about himself.
Scott goes to bed decided to apologize until he’s blue in the face, and
promising himself he’ll be a better friend to Stiles. He can see he won’t get
his best friend back easily – maybe he won’t get him back at all – but he owes
it to Stiles to at least try.
But all like with his best plans – okay, maybe putting best there is a bit of a
stretch – like all his plans things go south as soon as he sets them in motion,
because Stiles is not with the pack, he’s not with Derek, he’s gone, and Gerard
Argent is the one who took him.
The very same Gerard who stabbed Scott, and kept the knife in while he was
threatening his mother.
When Derek leaves, Scott stares at the three other teenagers, and he realizes
they are worried about Stiles – way more than would be normal for them. They
look as if a part of them is being ripped away, and Scott wonders if this is
what it feels like to be a part of a pack, for real. Having this kind of
connection with all those other people, be a part of something that is bigger
than being a person, being an individual.
Having a home in other people and not in a place.
He stares at his phone, considering his options, and then looks back at Erica,
Isaac and Boyd.
“I have an idea, but I think Derek won’t like it.”
“If it’s your idea, then I’m quite sure I won’t like it either.” Says Erica,
but she looks as if she might listen.
“Well, it might help Stiles. I think that is enough for you to consider it,
right?” He says, and sees he has them.
That’s when he has to wonder how much of an impact on Stiles life this whole
Mate thing apparently has, to inspire such loyalty in such a short time.
“What is it?” Isaac says, and Scott takes a deep breath.
This won’t go over well, but this is a better shot at saving Stiles than
calling the Sheriff will ever be.
                                       X
“I can’t believe you talked us into this.” Boyd says, looking around nervously,
while they ring the bell.
The bell by the door.
The bell by the door at the Argent’s.
“Well, I would have come anyway. Just… trust me on this, ok?”
Isaac is turning to him to let him know they are so not agreeing to this
because they trust him, but then Chris Argent opens the door, and he looks
pissed. The man doesn’t even speak, he just stares at the four werewolves
standing at his door, and Scott swallows hard before speaking.
“Mr. Argent, I know you really don’t want me here, but Gerard kidnapped Stiles,
and we don’t know where he took him. We need your help.”
Chris looks startled at this.
“Stiles? You human friend?”
Scott looks like he’ll deny that, but Boyd speaks before he can.
“Yes. He took an innocent kid out of the school, and Derek is already talking
to the sheriff. We just thought you might actually want to help us locate your
father before he gets arrested for kidnapping the sheriff’s son.” He emphasizes
the last part, and Chris seems to be considering something.
“Wait here. I’ll try to get a hold of him.”
He closes the door behind them, and they wait.
                                       X
His family is falling apart, and he knows it. First it was Kate. Then his wife.
His daughter. His father. Insanity, pure and simple, because none of it made
any sense.
He isn’t dense, he isn’t stupid, he isn’t unable to see the flaws his father
and his sister share. When the Sheriff had figured out that Kate had been the
one to actually set fire to the Hale House all those years ago, he didn’t feel
surprised or betrayed as he thought he ought to – he felt as if he could, for
the first time, see all the pieces of the puzzle, because the Hale pack was a
peaceful pack, they had never harmed an innocent, they didn’t have any reason
to go after anyone, specially now, when the pack was reduced to two people.
Kate died for her mistakes, and Gerard blamed Derek Hale, but Chris could
actually see better – Derek hadn’t killed her, and what had happened to her had
actually been brought upon her by herself.
And then Victoria had died, and while Chris admired her courage and bravery
till the very end, he also had expected more reluctance from his father, if
from no one else.
And now Allison was lost in grief, and following in his father’s footsteps,
never considering the Code, never following it, just wishing to kill things to
drown their own grief.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Allison wasn’t home. Gerard had left
for school that morning, but Allison left after his father, after she had
received a call.
Probably from Gerard himself. It wasn’t that hard to figure this out.
Why? Why would his father take a school boy, who had never done anything wrong?
He wasn’t a creature; he was the Sheriff’s son. As far as people in his
daughter’s circle of friendship went, Stiles and Lydia was the least harmful
ones.
Then why would Gerard take him? Just because of his friendship with Scott
McCall? It didn’t make any sense.
Had his father finally gone mad?
Chris went to his computer, and turned it on. He was an overprotective parent,
and there was nothing in the world he wouldn’t do to try and protect his
daughter – that’s why he checked out the GPS on her phone, and found out where
she was.
And she was definitely with Gerard.
He went to his garage, and took out a few guns. After that, he went to the
door, where the four teenager werewolves waited, pale and afraid and nervous,
and he had to swallow hard and remember they weren’t just kids, they were
monsters.
…Were they really?
“You said Hale was with the Sheriff?” he grunted out, and Scott nodded fast,
“Then call and tell them I know where they are.”
He was going to battle, and he didn’t even know who were his enemies anymore.
                                       X
The ensemble of cars at that place was an odd one. A black SUV, an old,
battered car, the Sheriff’s car, a black Camaro.
All parked in front of an old, decrepit house, one that seemed to be held up by
sheer stubbornness.
The SUV had been the last to arrive, and the Sheriff rounded Chris as soon as
he was out of the car.
“Are you sure about this? Why would he bring my boy here? It looks empty.” His
voice was firm, but his eyes were red, and Derek was looking down, as if he was
trying very hard not to be noticed. The teens were all around him, giving
comfort or maybe just because they felt safe with their Alpha, Chris couldn’t
guess.
“I am. They are inside, in the basement.”
They turned to look at the house, and Derek took the lead in.
Chris was actually afraid of what he’d find when he got inside.
But taking a deep breath, into the Hale house they went.
 Look at all the places
 where all my family died
Chapter End Notes
     Oh my god, I’m SO SORRY for taking so long to update, but work
     wouldn’t let me write!
     The next chapter will be up tomorrow, I swear!
     About the Hale House, I just couldn’t remember where the place where
     Kate tortured Derek was, and a friend said it was at the basement of
     the Hale House – I’m still not sure, but I’m using it as a location
     anyway.
     Any typos and mistakes are my own, I apologize for them – if you find
     any, and leave them in a comment, I’ll correct them as soon as I can!
     Tell me what you think of this! Thanks for reading!
     REVIEW!
***** Something Dies *****
Chapter Notes
     As promised, here it is!
     This chapter is Cliffhanger-free.
     Enjoy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Pale Horses
                                Something Dies
You see, the thing about the Kanima venom is that it doesn’t render you
unconscious – it simply makes you unable to move.
You hear everything. You see everything. You feel everything. From the jostle
of a shorter boy throwing you over his shoulder, to the bump in the head at
being thrown into the trunk of a car, to the sound of the tires, the panic of
being locked up, the turns on the road, the many, many bruises that come up on
the skin and then fade away just as fast because of the werewolf healing
factor.
You are aware of everything.
It really, really, royally sucks.
Stiles can feel he’s hyperventilating, and then he actually stops because he’s
not sure that, as a werewolf, he’s capable of hyperventilating. Or having a
panic attack, because if there ever was a proper time for a panic attack, it’s
here and now.
And, oh my god, what if he could have a panic attack, and then he shifted, and
went into panic overload while being a werewolf? What would that entail? So
that’s when he started panicking about having a panic attack, and his breathing
is getting harder and faster and more difficult, and he tries to calm the fuck
down, because he doesn’t want to die before Gerard had even gotten his hands on
him first.
Or maybe he does, because that man is a sick, sick person, and god only knows
what he’ll do to Stiles if he has the chance. Maybe dying by lack of oxygen
while panicking is the way to go today, because he sure as hell don’t want to
know what Gerard will do to him when he finds out Stiles is a werewolf now –
and he has no doubt the man will find out, and soon.
Probably when he realizes Stiles is just fiiiiiiiiine even with all the cuts
and bruises he should have from the ride in the trunk of a car.
The ride isn’t as long as Stiles thinks it would be. Gerard probably wants him
near enough to Beacon Hills that Derek won’t have too much trouble getting
there to be, you know, maimed, tortured and killed. For Stiles also has no
doubt he’s being used as bait, whether this was Derek’s plan or not.
He really, really hopes not.
The car comes to a stop, and Stiles closes his eyes when he hears the trunk
being opened. He blinks when he’s thrown over Jackson’s shoulder again, trying
to see where they are, and his heart stops beating for a second when he
recognizes the place.
It’s the Hale house.
Of course, why use a warehouse downtown or some rundown neighborhood shack when
Gerard can use the one place which will cause mental angst on Derek as well as
rage to find Stiles there? Why not put the knife in and then twist it, right?
They get in, and all Stiles can see is the dirt on the floor, and the darkness
that surrounds them. They don’t stay on the first floor – they go down, deeper
and deeper into the house, where the fire had reached, but hadn’t been able to
consume the stones and iron that made up the foundation of the house.
He hears a metal door being slipped open, and is thrown face first on the floor
like a sack of rotten potatoes. He groans at the impact, and his cry of pain is
half a laugh and half a cry.
He is so afraid he might actually start crying. Or laughing. He can’t decide.
A foot kicks him, making him turn on the ground, and he’s finally able to see
Gerard staring down at him with an intrigued look on his face.
Crap.
“You know, Stiles, when I caught you, I was only trying to make Hale come after
you. But right now, I think I might have taken more than what I hoped for.” He
says, smiling slightly, and Stiles coughs - he’s sure he broke something that
shouldn’t be broken.
He can taste blood in his mouth.
“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.” He gasps out, through short breaths, but he
knows that playing dumb will be no help for him in a few seconds, when he
starts getting all better from injuries that should take, at the very least,
weeks to recover.
“Let’s see if you don’t, Mr. Stilinski.” Gerard says with finality in his
voice, taking a small knife from his pocket. He crouches down, beside Stiles,
and pulls Stiles’s arm towards him, stabbing his forearm, making Stiles scream
with the pain again.
“You… You SICK PERSON, my God!” He cries out, but Gerard doesn’t even look at
him – he’s staring at his arm, the wound that was wide open with the knife, and
is already kitting together again, closing down, leaving only blood behind.
It’s only when the cut is already healed and all that can be heard in the dark
basement is Stiles’s harsh breathing that Gerard looks at Stiles – his eyes are
cold and crazed, he’s not playing with bait anymore, he’s dealing with the
enemy, and Stiles is sure, absolutely sure, he’ll be dead within the hour.
And it’ll be the longest hour in his life.
“Jackson, I think you’ll need to set our friend here in a special sort of
accommodation before leaving.” Gerard says, while turning his back on Stiles
and looking at Kanima-Jackson.
If Stiles wasn’t so completely terrified he’d pity the boy. It’s not him, and
by god, if anyone finds him out, they’ll kill him.
Gerard will probably kill him as soon as he’s done with Derek and Stiles.
Jackson picks Stiles up, and he bites his lips to keep from screaming again,
because he might heal fast, but that doesn’t mean that broken bones don’t hurt
as hell. Jackson pins him to a metal structure, he’s actually being hold to
some sort of grid, with metal shackles and chains. He can’t move yet, not
completely, but he feels as his duty to his werewolf dignity to at least
protest against being help up on a torture chamber. His head is shaking, and he
can feel at least half of his toes. It’s a pity that’s all he can move.
He hears Gerard’s phone beep, and the man leaves them, while Jackson is tying
him to the grid.
“Jackson. Come on, Jackson, you can fight this shit, come on, man, help me. I
know you totally hate me, because I’m such an ass and also I pined after Lydia
while she was your girlfriend, but you and I both know she would never even
look at me, man. You don’t have to do this. I can’t even believe I’m saying
such a cheesy cliché, but you can fight this, Jackson.”
For a moment, Stiles can swear he sees Jackson through the Kanima’s eyes, but
the moment is gone as fast as it comes, and he’s still chained up to a torture
device. Finally Jackson steps back, and Stiles is hurting like hell, because
the chains on his wrists are too tight, they are breaking his skin, and his
skin is growing back again at the same speed it’s being torn apart.
At some point, he’s pretty sure, the healing cycle won’t be able to catch up,
and he’ll probably be scarred.
If he’s, you know, alive to be scarred.
He’ll take scarred over dead any day.
Also, he’s pretty sure the chains and shackles are somehow infused with
wolfsbane.
Jackson goes to wait by the door at the very moment the door opens again, and
it occurs to Stiles the only reason he can see well inside the chamber is
because of the werewolf thing. It’s dark in here compared to outside, even
compared to the rest of the house.
That’s why Jackson can see too.
Stiles actually blinks when he realizes Gerard Argent could see him too. He had
cut him open, looked at him, straight at him, watched his cut heal.
How did he do that?
He’s taken away from his thoughts however when he notices Gerard is not coming
back alone to the chamber.
Allison is beside him.
“What is Jackson doing here?” She asks. She can’t see him, because he’s too far
from the light coming from the door.
How did Gerard do it, damn it?!
“Leaving.” Gerard answers, and Jackson simply leaves, without saying anything.
It’s killing Stiles to see that.
“You said you had caught him, Grandpa.” Allison’s voice is full of hate and
accusation. She’s hurting, anyone can see that, and Stiles can relate to it
more than most – he actually lost his mother too. Not to a werewolf bite, but
to something stupid, and not at all her fault.
If Stiles is honest with himself, he blames himself for her death, and that had
fueled his hate towards a lot of people for a lot of months. Allison is in her
Rage stage, she hates everything to do with her mom’s death, and that includes
werewolves.
Mainly Derek. And Gerard is exploiting that, turning Allison into his personal
killer.
Gods, who would have thought that the creepy Chris Argent would turn out to be
the normal one in the family?
Gerard closes the metal door behind them again, and the chamber falls dark,
until he turns on a light, focused solely on Stiles, and his poor, skinny and
pale form.
“Oh my god, Stiles?” Allison almost screams, turning to her grandfather with
horror in her eyes.
This is going to be awful.
“What did you do?” She asks in a whisper, it’s clear she’s scared, but Gerard
only smiles, and shakes his head.
“That right there, Allison, that’s not your friend anymore. That is a monster.”
He isnota monster.
“A killer”
He’s never harmed anyone.
“A thing that has to be put down before it tears everyone’s lives apart, like
it did to your mother, and your aunt”
Gerard is the one who tore their lives apart.
“Derek Hale turned him, Allison. Made him into a monster. Into his personal
bitch.”
And that’s when Stiles’s already shaken control slips, because he’s sick and
tired of hearing that man using that word.
“I am no one’s bitch. I’m his mate.” He growls, and his eyes are grey and
glowing, he knows it.
But what’s more impressive than his voice, or his control not to completely
wolf out, or his even greater control not to cry out in pain when the effort to
move makes his wrists split open again, is the fact that, when he hears the
last thing Stiles says, Gerard eyes dilate, they widen, and he takes a step
back.
And more than that, he reeks of fear.
Hell, yeah. He’s not going down without a fight.
“Grandpa, what is it?” Allison asks, and she has her bow raised, but pointed to
the ground. It’s not focused on Stiles, not it’s focused on Gerard, it’s just
there.
Oh my god, maybe he can make an ally.
“I have made a mistake. We need to kill this beast, Allison, right now.”
“What?” She asks again, and Stiles can see her eyes going from Stiles to Gerard
frantically. She would be okay with killing Derek, possibly okay shooting some
unknown werewolf who got in her way, that night, at the station, but right now?
Killing Stiles in cold blood? The boy who took her messages to Scott, word by
word?
Stiles can see she’s hesitating, and he tries to calm down, to make his eyes
normal again, so she can see Stiles, and not a werewolf. He closes his eyes,
trying to normalize his breathing, but that’s obviously a mistake, because
suddenly he feels his shirt being torn apart, and Gerard is connecting wires to
him.
“What the hell?!” He screams, and finds out that being a werewolf won’t stop
his voice from going high pitched and not at all manly.
“Gerard!” Allison screams, and Gerard turns to her, vicious and cold and crazy.
“This is a Mate, Allison. If your father had educated you like he should have,
you’d know that this, right here, is the most dangerous thing you could face.
And this is Derek Hale’s mate. This thing here will make that wolf ten times
harder to kill, and ten times more powerful. It could easily destroy Jackson
now. We have to kill it, Allison, now.”
He says it all in one breath, and even Stiles is taken aback, because, wow, he
had no idea he was such a big deal.
He’s finally the bad ass in this shit. Ha!
Okay, so maybe the time to gloat is not when the crazy killer man is setting
things up to electrocute him, while he wants his granddaughter to shoot him
dead, dead, dead, but it’s good to know the Mate thing isn’t just, you know,
him and Derek becoming fuck buddies.
He looks at Allison – to plead or gloat what a bad ass he is, but he doesn’t.
Because Gerard Argent is actually electrocuting him.
It feels, at first, as if his whole body is being shaken from the inside out.
It’s being shaken by an army of really tiny steel ants that are pinching him
hard and all over his body. Stampeding on him, biting him, and it shakes his
very core, and it hurts like hell, and he can’t stop the scream that tears
through his throat, because fuuuuuuck he’s going to die.
But of course he doesn’t, because he’s a freaking werewolf, and he can heal
somewhat – he just doesn’t know for how long.
Allison is screaming now, telling her grandfather to stop, and he’s completely
ignoring her. She raises her bow and Stiles thinks that this is it, this is
when he has to actually say something to make things stop hurting.
He stops screaming for long enough to gulp some air, the electricity still
running through his body, and he’s going to die, and he looks at Allison, and
tries to speak – maybe he’ll just plead for her to kill him fast and now,
because he can’t take the pain anymore.
“She was KILLING SCOTT!” he shouts instead, the current still flowing, and he
feels blood dripping down his chin when his mouth opens. He is hoping it’s
because he bit himself, and not because his internal organs have started
dissolving or something disgusting like that, “You mom, she was killing him!
Derek…” He stops talking again, and closes his eyes, and half wolfs out,
howling in pain, but forces himself to go on – if he’s going to die, then at
least he’ll make sure Allison knows what a creep her grandfather is, “He didn’t
mean to bite her. She didn’t have to die. It’s all his fault, Allison…” He
screams again, and this is it. His body can’t take it, he can feel the second
his wolf healing stops trying, and everything starts fading away, “Gerard’s
fault” He gasps out, and his eyes are closing.
He hears a loud growl, the loudest one he’s ever heard, as if pain and misery
and desperation are all laced into one, and there are other howls answering it.
Someone screams, and he hears Allison’s bow, a shot, and his body stops
shuddering.
Everything goes black, and nothing hurts.
He knew he would die today, anyway.
                                       X
When he steps foot into the house, he has to take a second to take a deep
breath and not shift. It’s hard for him, being here – that’s why he chose this
place to come to, at first. It hurts him, being in this place. It kills him
inside bit by bit, and that’s why he’s always here, somehow.
When the house is not full of Argents, like now.
“Three heartbeats.” Boyd points out, unnecessarily for him, but Chris and John
couldn’t have known that. John looks confused, and Chris looks down.
“Allison is here.” He mutters, and everyone turns to look at him, “That’s how I
found them. Her GPS, on her phone.”
Derek doesn’t care that he’s found them through magic as long as he’s not
wrong, but he knows Argent isn’t wrong. He knows Gerard has Stiles in this
house, in the basement, and he has to be honest with himself that he’s afraid
of what they’ll find.
“It’s so quiet.”  John says, and Derek shakes his head.
“It’s not.”
“The walls in the basement are sound proof.” Derek and Chris say at the same
time. Derek is going to say that they should stay up here, that he will go and
deal with Gerard and bring Stiles back when he hears the first scream – and
then there’s no holding his wolf back. He shifts, and there’s no thought
process, no thinking things through, there’s instinct, and there’s his mate
being hurt, agonizingly so, and he runs to the basement, his betas on his
heels, the humans following.
He launches himself on the door, and he hears Stiles screaming from the inside,
and he can’t seem to open the door – it’s locked from the inside, and that door
was made to keep wolves from escaping.
It was the room they – his family - all got into during the full moon.
He howls, and his betas answer, and he hears his mate’s screams, and one of the
humans finally opens the door. He launches himself forward, there’s a shot and
an arrow, and a cry of human pain, but he doesn’t care.
His howl can be heard all over Beacon Hills, and every single thing who hears
it shivers from such pain contained in a single, inhuman sound.
Because Stiles’s heart is not beating.
                                       X
John is a very adaptable man. He’s the sheriff, and has a son with ADHD, he has
to be - but it’s not something that comes easily for him. He can’t even seem to
close his eyes that night. Stiles’s weight beside him is the only comfort in a
night full of terrors and the unknown. His son is a werewolf, and there’s
another werewolf trying to kill him, and a whole family more than willing to
kill him too.
For a split second, John has to wonder if the Argents are right. One of those
things maimed his kid, almost killing him to the point where another one of
them bit him to save his life – but that’s what decides it, isn’t it? The fact
that Stiles is alive, and mostly fine, and as long as he can keep out of
trouble, things will be fine.
Which means things will be fine for about two minutes, because if there’s one
thing his kid has a talent in is getting into trouble.
He gets up to prepare breakfast, and he sees Stiles take off to school with
his… boyfriend. Boyfriend he can deal with. Mate, not so much.
Mate is much too final.
His kid is barely seventeen, he’s not dealing with mate right now.
And just like he suspects it, all hell breaks loose with a single call from
Scott and the arrival of a very angry, very angsty Derek Hale to his porch. The
man looks miserably angry, if that’s at all possible.
He’s expecting John to blame him, that much is clear, but what could the man
had done? Stayed with his kid at school? Foreseen some crazy man kidnapping his
son? If he blames Derek for this, he might as well deny everything he’s ever
said to Stiles, and start blaming his only son for the problems he seems to get
caught into, and he will never, ever, do that.
Stiles does that enough for both of them.
So he tells Derek to man up, and try to think of how to get his boy back, and
that’s it.
They go to the police station, and try to track Gerard or Stiles down, but it’s
very difficult. John doesn’t want to alert his colleagues, because how can he
explain werewolves to them? How could he put his son in danger like that?
Because he’s pretty sure some of the people he works with can take a
hyperactive teenager with a talent for trouble, but a werewolf?
They would kill him just as fast as the Argents.
And it’s surprising that it’s from the Argents that comes the answer – Chris
Argent knows where they are, and so they follow.
Stepping into the house with four teenage werewolves, an Alpha and a werewolf
hunter is probably the most ridiculously frightening experience of his whole
life. It probably just comes second to those few minutes after his wife had
died, when he knew he would have to take care of Stiles all by himself, and he
knew he’d screw up.
He’s in so far over his head in this mess it’s not even funny.
When he sees Derek shift and tear through the house, his heart stops for a few
seconds before he follows, managing, between him and Chris, to open the door
the five werewolves obviously aren’t able to.
And he freezes.
He freezes because that’s his son, chained up and wired to a machine, with his
School Principal killing him, while his best friend’s girlfriend screams
herself hoarse asking for her grandfather to stop.
Derek jumps forward, and two people shoot – not at Derek, at Gerard.
Allison and Chris shoot at the same time, their weapons in sync, their shots
accurate and lethal, Gerard doesn’t stand a chance.
The old man falls forward, the hand on the controls of the machine killing his
son falls down, and the sound of electricity running stops. Gerard is dead
before his body even hits the ground.
Derek, however, doesn’t even notice this.
He rips Stiles out of the grid and into his own body, howling so loud and so
deep and so desperately it seems to shake the very ground they are on.
His son’s body is tightly held against Derek, who’s slumping forward, his
features changing again to those of a human, and the man screams, as if his
heart is being ripped from his chest.
He puts Stiles down and crouches over him – he’s doing CPR, and John wants to
hysterically laugh at the absurdity of the situation. They are werewolves,
there has to be an easier way to save Stiles.
He has to be okay.
While he counts the time between each step of the CPR, Derek says something, so
low and so fast John can’t seem to understand him at first.
And then he does.
“Not again.” Derek is saying, over and over and over again.
John is coming forward, pushing people out of the way, and everything is
silent. Chris Argent has his eyes closed, leaning against a wall, and Allison
has dropped her bow to the ground at some point, and the werewolves are around
Derek.
Derek puts his lips over Stiles’s lips, and he pushes air between them, and
John closes his eyes.
“Please, son.” He whispers, falling to his knees beside Derek, because if he
loses his son then he’s lost everything, and he might as well die here, with
him, “Please.” He whispers, and along with his voice, Derek is saying the same
thing, “Please.” They whisper once more.
And that’s when Stiles gasps and opens his eyes.
Chapter End Notes
     See! No Cliffies!
     Next chapter will be up on Tuesday – or when I get two other chapters
     written, whatever comes first!
     Tell me what you thought of it!
     REVIEW!
***** Something Heals - if only a little bit *****
Chapter Notes
     Next one up!
     I won’t promise another for tomorrow, but Wednesday at the latest
     there’ll be a new chapter.
     AO3 didn’t send an alert for chapter 10, so if you haven’t read that
     one, you should.
     I hope you enjoy it!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Pale Horses
                    Something Heals – if only a little bit
Everythinghurts. Everything. Every little piece of him is in pain, and is
aching, and he can’t breathe properly, it’s as if his whole body is on fire,
and there’s not enough air. He gasps and opens his eyes and there’s Derek
staring at him, and he knows, somehow, things will be okay.
And then he passes out.
When he wakes up again, he’s in the hospital. He doesn’t have to be a genius to
figure this out, because the whole place smells like disinfectant and sterile
things. He turns up his nose before he can even open his eyes.
“Argh, this place stinks.” It’s what he plans on saying, but what really comes
out is something raspy, between a whine and a groan, and he hears a very faint
noise. Finally gathering his courage he opens his eyes, blinking at the white
light, and sees Erica by his bed. She smiles broadly when she sees his eyes
open, and he swears there are tears in her eyes.
“Hey.” She says, and Stiles half smiles, because he’s completely confused. Not
that he doesn’t like Erica – he does -, but come on. Where’s his dad? Where’s
Derek?
“Hey.” He answers, and his voice is still rough. She comes closer, and holds
out a glass of water with a straw, and he sips the water slowly, feeling it
cooling down his throat.
“Your dad couldn’t stay here, because he’s the Sheriff. He went to the station
to clear things up, and make up a convincing story about your kidnapping.” She
says without him having to ask, and he smiles again in thanks.
He can’t quite bring himself to speak, he doesn’t really know why.
“Derek is outside.” She says with deliberate calm, and he knows there’s
something big going on there, “Scott was here too, his mom threatened to ground
him forever and he didn’t want to leave, but Derek made him.” She smirks, and
Stiles knows Scott has taken a step in the right direction, but it’s Derek’s
news that interest him right now.
He… He wants Derek by his side now. Erica is great, but she isn’t… his.
“Derek.” He says in a normal tone of voice, knowing that the man will hear him,
because how could he not? Stiles is his mate, damn it.
Not ten seconds after that, Derek steps through the door, and Stiles can’t seem
to see anything else in the room. His eyes flash grey and Erica makes herself
scarce, muttering about letting everyone know he’s awake, and closing the door
behind her firmly.
Stiles stares at Derek accusingly. How could he leave him like this? Why did he
leave? Why wasn’t he here when he woke up, why hadn’t he been the first thing
he saw when he woke up?
“I wanted to give you some time.” Derek says slowly, taking a deep breath and
stepping closer to Stiles – still far, though, “I didn’t know how you would… If
you would trust me.” Derek says, looking down.
He hasn’t looked into Stiles eyes yet.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Stiles asks quietly, and Derek risks a glance at him, and
can’t seem to let it go.
“I failed you. When I kissed you in front of the whole school, it was supposed
to be a message for Gerard, that now I… I had a Mate. I had you. That we, our
pack, were to be taken seriously.”
“He thought I was still human, though.” Stiles points out, and Derek frowns,
“He took me because he thought you were just… messing with me. He didn’t know I
had been changed.”
Derek is quiet after this, and Stiles starts to worry. It’s not like Derek to
be like this – quiet? Yes. The guy is a mountain of growls and orders and surly
words, but this… defeated quietness? This isn’t Derek.
Or maybe it is. Maybe this is the real Derek, the one he keeps hiding behind
all that sour wolf image.
“It’s not your fault, you know? That guy is… all kinds of crazy.” He points
out.
“Was.” Says Derek, and there’s a malicious satisfaction in the way he says the
word, and Stiles takes a minute to understand.
“Oh.” He says when he registers what the Past tense meant.
Gerard is dead.
“Did you…” he starts, but Derek shakes his head with a displeased frown.
“No. I… I was more interested in checking to see if you were alive.”
Stiles smiles broadly at that because, apparently, he couldn’t not do it.
Derek has just admitted he was so worried about Stiles that he didn’t kill
someone. That’s… really big.
“Tell me what happened?” Stiles asks, strangely subdued. He’s tired. So tired.
Derek looks at him intently; sensing his weariness in his words and comes a bit
closer to the bed.
“I don’t want to tire you out.”
“You won’t if you don’t argue with me, just tell me what happened.” He states
with an annoyed tone of voice and Derek raises an eyebrow, a bit of his usual
sour wolf coming back to him.
“For someone who’s just been electrocuted you sure are bossy right now.”
Stiles snorts and pats the bed.
“Just tell me the whole stuff before I start making things up in my head. Once
I do that, I tend to believe myself, and things could get messy. I could start
imagining you quoting Beauty and the Beast while rescuing me.”
This startles a small laugh out of Derek and he takes a few tentative steps
forward and sits on the bed, his hands on his lap.
“I didn’t quote anything, I went… feral. When I heard you howling, I lost it
completely.”
“Now, that part I remember. What I don’t remember is after Grandpa Argent
decided I was going to be fried.”
“Scott contacted Chris Argent. He found Allison because of her phone, and then
led us to my old house. I was with your dad at the station; we were trying to
track Gerard down. We met at the front of the house, and went in. When I heard
your howl I went feral.” Derek takes a deep breath, as if it’s hard for him to
tell the rest of it, and maybe it is. Stiles can’t imagine what he’d do if he
heard Derek howling like he did, “You were being electrocuted. Allison and her
father shot Gerard, he died instantly. But you were… you didn’t…” He takes
another deep breath, and one of his hands finds one of Stiles’s and he squeezes
it so hard Stiles knows it’s good he heals fast now, or he’d have some broken
bones, “You weren’t breathing. It startled me out of my change, and when I went
back to normal I did… Well, I saved you.”
He is blushing when he says that, and it makes Stiles smile again.
“How? What did you do?” he asks, curious, and Derek rolls his eyes, but he
answers.
“CPR.”
Stiles laughs a little.
“You saved me with a kiss, huh? That’s nice.” He teases with a small smirk, and
Derek simply rolls his eyes again.
He looks annoyed and uninterested, but he hasn’t let go of Stiles’s hand yet.
“What’s going on now?” He asks, yawning.
Derek stares at him for a few seconds, as if trying to decide what chance he
has of ordering him to sleep, but then seems to decide it’s not worth it.
“The story is that Gerard was mentally unstable, and kidnapped you. Erica saw
him getting out of the school with you, and called me, and I got John. Your dad
was supposed to have gotten a call from Scott then, saying Chris Argent knew
where his father was, and the rest is, well, a tamer version of what really
happened – except we’re saying Allison was there against her will. Your father
tried to take her out of the picture completely, like he did with Scott and the
rest of our pack, but Argent said she had to learn that her actions have
consequences.”
Stiles nods, and thinks that’s good. Allison is going through some rough stuff
now, but that doesn’t give her an excuse to go all psychopath on them.
And then something occurs to Stiles.
He’s in the hospital. Why is he in the hospital?
“Why am I here?” He asks, almost indignantly, and Derek stares at him as if
he’s crazy, which, well, maybe he is, but come on, “Seriously, where’s my super
wolf healing right now? I’m feeling miserable. What the hell?”
Derek shakes his head, and runs the hand that isn’t holding Stiles’s through
his hair.
“You were almost dead when we got there. Your wolf couldn’t keep up with the
shock. You’ll be fine in a few more hours, but the extension of the damage was
worrying.” Derek looks as if it pains him to say the words, and Stiles tries to
consider this from his point of view.
His Mate – which seems to be a bigger deal than he thinks every time the
subject comes up – was almost killed in the house where his whole family had
been killed. He hadn’t directly been able to save him, or protect him
previously, and the one thing he thought he had done to protect him had
actually made his enemy act faster and more viciously than before.
Hell, yeah, Derek is feeling guilty.
“It’s not your fault.” Stiles says firmly, and Derek scoffs, “It really isn’t.”
Stiles says again, and Derek looks into his eyes, glaring.
“You were caught because I kissed you.  I couldn’t save you. You almost died.”
He says through gritted teeth, his glare so intense it could melt iron – but
he’s not really pissed at Stiles, he’s angry at himself.
“Yes. But that wasn’t your intention.” Derek simply shakes his head, and Stiles
wants to curse how stubborn the man is, “Derek, it was Gerard’s fault to kidnap
and torture me. It wasn’t your plan to get me kidnapped, was it?”
“Of course not!” Derek says angrily, and he’s glaring at Stiles again.
“Then it wasn’t your fault!” He almost shouts, and Derek growls in frustration,
letting go of Stiles hand and standing up.
“I should have protected you!” He says loudly, pacing the room, “It was my job,
to keep you safe, to protect you! Two days with a mate, and I have already put
you at such risk you are in the hospital, Stiles!”
“Yes, and I’ll probably be here a lot more if you continue thinking I can’t
deal with stuff! I’m not a damsel in distress, Derek, I can handle stuff! I’ve
been doing so for months now, and I wasn’t even a werewolf then!”
“You weren’t mine then either!” Derek shouts and stops pacing to looks at
Stiles again, who’s staring at him with his mouth open.
“What is that supposed to mean?!” he asks, starting to get pissed off himself.
“You are mine. To protect. Mine. And I let you down.” Derek says slowly,
growling at each word, as if he’s explaining something very easy to a very
small child.
“You didn’t, you idiot! I’m here, and I’m alive, and we’ll find a way out of
this mess, and honestly, now there’s one less enemy for us to go up against, so
stop being a cave man and thinking that just because you’re an Alpha you have
to save me all the time! I’m your mate, not a piece of chopped liver! I make my
own decisions, and I can handle things on my own! It wasn’t your fault, you
stupid wolf!” Stiles sits up half way through his rant, and he’s glaring at
Derek so intensely he doesn’t even see when the door of the room opens.
Derek growls again and crosses the room back to Stiles bed and pushes him
against the pillows, taking his mouth in a kiss. His hands are on Stiles’s
face, holding him in place, but he doesn’t put any of his normal force into it.
It looks like an angry, dominating kiss, but in reality is a delicate, chaste
touch of lips.
Stiles is moved by it, and he’s about to try and make things more interesting
when he hears a cough.
Opening his eyes he sees his dad by the door, his arms crossed over his chest,
and a disapproving frown on his face.
“I see you are actually feeling just fine.” John says, and Stiles smiles, while
Derek gets up and stands by the bed, his arms crossed over his chest too.
“Actually, my mouth was hurting, so Derek was kissing it better.” Stiles answer
with a cheeky grin, and John can’t keep up the frown, going to his son and
hugging him carefully.
“Don’t you dare scare me like that again.” He says, his voice muffled by
Stiles’s shoulder.
“I’ll try not to.” The boy answers, and John seems resigned when he pulls away
that this is the best he’s going to get.
A promise.
Stiles sags against his pillows again, feeling tired all of a sudden.
“When can I go home?” He asks, and John stares at him carefully.
“The jury is still out on that. On one hand, the doctors wanted to keep you
here for the night, but I talked to Melissa, and she thinks it’ll be too
suspicious for you to simply heal like you’re doing. So, maybe, if we can get
you home, you can just miss this week of classes, and then things won’t look so
shady with your healing.”
Stiles stares at his dad and feels his insides twist in guilt.
“I’m sorry.” He says, and John looks surprised – and so does Derek, but Stiles
isn’t paying him attention right now.
“What for?” John asks, and Stiles looks down, twisting the sheets.
“Everything, actually, but right now because you’ve got to lie and make up all
these stories, and… just… sorry, dad.” He finishes lamely, and John shakes his
head, coming to the bed again and putting his hands on his son’s shoulders.
“Do not apologize to me again because I’m doing my job as your parent. Never
again, you hear me?”
Stiles nods, and opens his mouth to say sorry, but his dad seems to sense
that’s where he’s going and raises an eyebrow and Stiles raises both his hands
in a surrender gesture.
John seems satisfied and pulls away again.
“I’ll go find Melissa and deal with your discharge, ok? I’ll be back soon, and
then we’re going home.” He leaves, and Stiles looks down, completely forgetting
about Derek until the man is in front of him, both his eyebrows raised.
“It’s not your fault.” Derek says, and it isn’t mocking, it’s actually just a
reminder for him to maybe listen to himself sometimes. He smiles down at the
bed, not able to look up.
“Yeah, I get it. Hard to follow up my own advice. I know.”
They fall silent again, and Stiles looks out the window, frowning.
“What time is it, anyway?”
“A quarter to six.” Derek answers, and Stiles sighs.
“There was something weird going on with Gerard.”
Derek snorts incredulously, sitting on the bed carefully, as if he’s not sure
he is allowedto sit there.
“Everything was weird with Gerard, Stiles.” He answers, but Stiles is already
shaking his head.
“No, I mean, when we got to the basement, he could see me.” Derek looks puzzled
at this, and Stiles sighs, “It’s dark in there, Derek. So dark Allison didn’t
see it was me hanging there until Gerard turned on that damn light. But he
could see me. Like Jackson could, like I could see him.”
Derek’s eyes are cautious as he takes this information in, and he looks down,
considering things.
“We’ll talk about this later, with the Pack.” He finally says, and Stiles nods.
“We have a lot to talk about with the pack, especially the Jackson stuff. What
do you think will happen to him now?”
Derek shakes his head.
“I don’t know. I’ve been looking, but he has to solve his issues by himself,
and until then, he will seek a master.”
“Maybe one of us could do it.” Stiles suggests, but Derek frowns immediately,
and stares at Stiles firmly.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because the Kanima is connected to its master emotionally. It’ll kill whoever
the master sees as guilty of any murder. Do you really think any of us can
handle that?”
Stiles sees the point. What a messed up bunch they are, geez.
John comes back to the room at that moment, and Stiles is officially okay to go
home, as long as he takes it very easy the next few days, and comes back for a
check-up in a week. Derek leaves the room for a few moments, while his dad
helps him get changed, and then he rides with his father home, Derek following
in his Camaro.
Stiles is a bit confused by this, but Derek is the first to go into the house,
sniffing away at every room before allowing John and Stiles to come in.
When they stop in front of Stiles’s room, the boy is completely reminded that
Gerard wasn’t even their top problem right now. His window is wide open, and
the sheets on his bed are clean. There’s no scent of Peter anywhere, but he
can’t help but think of the man and the way he had simply tore at his throat at
that damn house.
He shivers a little, and both Derek and John stare at him, concerned, but he
smiles at them.
“It’s okay. I’m fine, really, just… tired and stuff.” He says, shrugging.
John doesn’t look like he believes him, but lets it go.
“I’ll go downstairs and make us some dinner. You lie down and rest. Rest, you
hear me? No funny business.” He says, glaring at Derek for effect, and Stiles
facepalms, because, come on, when will his dad get tired of that bit?
Probably never, but okay.
Stiles shakes his head and goes to his bed, Derek hovering behind him, as if
he’s afraid Stiles will fall down and break his neck.
“Dude, I didn’t die when I was human, I’m not going to kick now that I have
super healing and great reflexes, okay? Chill.” He says a bit on edge, and
Derek actually growls at him. He glares right back, but sits on the bed taking
off his shoes, and lying down. “Happy now?” he says, and Derek rolls his eyes
again, looking around, as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself, “Derek.”
Stiles calls, and the man looks at him again, “Could you… I mean, if you want
to, sure, do you… ahm… Can you come here? With me?” He says quietly, suddenly
very shy, because it’s one thing to be kissed senseless, but he’s asking Derek
to cuddle with him.
He’s so sure the man will refuse he’s already opening his mouth to tell him to
forget it when Derek goes to bed and sits down, taking off his own shoes and
sitting against the headboard, pulling Stiles against him, moving until they
know they are both comfortable, Stiles resting against him.
“Thanks” He says, and Derek doesn’t answer verbally, but one of his arms comes
around his waist to hold him more tightly against the Alpha, and Stiles knows
that the contact is actually helping both of them.
They were too close to losing the other in the last few hours. With Derek being
such a control freak, he’s sure his wolf is going crazy.
“My mom died when I was eleven.” Stiles hears himself say, and he feels Derek
going very still behind him, as if the other man is afraid that, if he moves,
Stiles will stop talking, “I was calling her to come and get me from soccer
practice early. I was always anxious, it comes with the ADHD, but back then I
didn’t take any medicine, the teachers always dismissed it for me being a
trouble maker. I called home about ten times, and I started making a fuss on
the phone, for her to come and pick me up, because the other kids were being
mean or something. I didn’t have Scott back then, so I was the only freak in
the class. I remember I told her I was scared, and I cried on the phone. She
swore she’d come as fast as she could – we didn’t have two cars back then, it
was only my dad’s, and she went on foot. She was worried about me, you know?
She wasn’t paying attention. She crossed a street without looking, and that was
that.”
The only sign he has that Derek is actually listening is the way his arm seems
to hold him tighter against his body.
“I called home a few more times, and then I gave up. Jackson was actually the
one to pull me out of my funk, and I went to play again with them. When the
practice was over, my dad was there to pick me up, and she was dead.” He stops
and closes his eyes, “Because of me.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Derek says immediately, and Stiles almost smiles.
“I know. Consciously, I know. I didn’t mean to, and she knew how I was, and
most of the time I believe it. But sometimes… Like when the panic attacks come,
I think she… I think she died because of me. If I was the Kanima’s master, it’d
probably come after me, anyway, when I get too scared.” He doesn’t give Derek
time to speak again before he presses on, “So when I tell you it’s not your
fault, I need you to believe it, Derek. Because if me getting hurt today is
your fault, then my mom dying is mine. And I don’t think I can live like that.”
There’s silence in the room, and Stiles wonders if he’ll get an answer – any
answer.
“It’s Gerard’s fault.” Derek whispers, and Stiles closes his eyes.
They can make it work.
He can believe that now, in the way Derek’s arms don’t let him go. He falls
asleep with a small smile on his face.
They can make it work.
Chapter End Notes
     Can’t help but loving them like this.
     What did you think?
     Let me know!
     REVIEW!
***** Something Shifts *****
Chapter Notes
     I am REALLY sorry for taking this long, but a lot happened this week.
     Also, I was a bit thrown over the whole finale thing. So much stuff
     that left me going WHAT?! But, anyway. I hope you enjoy this! Some
     Derek and Stiles interaction, mostly.
     Also, in this, Gerard didn’t have cancer. It’s something else.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
                                  Pale Horses
                               Something Shifts
When he wakes up, he’s alone. The only way Stiles knows that, though, is
because everything is silent and unmoving, and he figures that, had he been
sleeping on Derek, as he had been before, it wouldn’t be so quiet. And before
he can get pissed about being left alone in the room, he takes a second and
realizes that Derek, before leaving, has arranged a whole lot of pillows to
support Stiles up, while still making him comfortable, in the exact same
position he had fallen asleep in.
Okay, so he could show a whole lot more consideration than Stiles could ever
have thought Derek Hale was capable of showing.
And he has to admit, even if only to himself, that he’s very, very confused.
You see, Stiles is very used to not dealing with things – feeling-related
things. When he’s upset he finds a tangible reason to be upset, something
physical, something that can be fixed. Usually, this allows him to deal with
the real stuff slowly and gradually, and actually simply accept them in his
life without having to freak out about them. Like he did with Scott and his
being a werewolf thing, like he tried to do with himself and his being a
werewolf thing.
But he knows he can’t do that with Derek and whatever it is they are having
right now. And at the same time, he can’t bring himself to deal with it.
He feels comforted by Derek, he feels at home, as if he’s safe and sound around
him, and, at some level, he knows these feelings are reciprocated. They are
good together. They can work together, just like Stiles was thinking last night
– they are, actually, great together.
The Alpha and the Mate, making their pack work.
Alpha and Mate.
Fine. He can handle that. It’s… fine.
What he doesn’t want to think about is, you know, Derek and Stiles. Because
while as wolves he can find his position with Derek instinctually, he has no
idea of how to deal with Derek – human Derek, person Derek, the Derek he’ll
have to deal with when things aren’t going completely insane around his town;
something they’ll hopefully achieve soon, as soon as Peter and Jackson and
Lydia are dealt with.
At least Gerard is down.
Looking at his window, he can see the sun shining through the curtains merrily
– it must be at least noon, and he realizes he’s slept through the whole night.
He’s feeling much better than before, but still a bit achy.
Sitting up, he yawns and stretches, feeling his back getting into place, as if
he was half way through wolfing out – or maybe he just slept in a really weird
position. He hears noise downstairs, low and quiet, but he can hear them, and
so he decides to go there to see what’s going on in his house.
And what’s going on is Derek cooking.
He stops by the door to the kitchen and leans against it, feeling completely
confused.
“Not a word.” Says Derek without turning from the sink where he’s dicing
something, and Stiles chuckles a bit.
“I wasn’t going to say anything.” He replies, and hears Derek snorting, “I
wasn’t! I was just going to… ah… ask where’s dad and why are you cooking?! Oh
my god, Derek, I had no idea you even knew how to turn on the stove!” He ends
up saying, because he can’t help himself.
Derek looks at him over his shoulder with an unimpressed look, and Stiles tries
to stop smiling, he really does, but he can’t.
“Your dad went to the station. The investigation on your kidnapping is a bit
messy, because you haven’t yet given a testimony. I asked to stay, because I
don’t think it’s safe for you to be alone. As you didn’t eat dinner, your
father made me promise I’d feed you something, hence me, cooking.”
Stiles stares at him for a while, his mouth half open, and then he shakes his
head.
“You know, you should have gotten a mate sooner.”
“What?” Derek growls and Stiles simply shrugs.
“Just saying, man, you’re a hell of a lot better now, when you do the whole
putting sentences together thing, instead of the stares and the growls.”
Just out of spite – or at least that’s what Stiles thinks – Derek growls and
stares at him.
“Just saying!” He repeats, raising his hands, “I’m going to go and take a
shower, I smell like a hospital.” He says, turning around and going upstairs
again.
Half an hour later, when he gets to the kitchen again, the food is on the
table, and two plates are on it too. Derek looks at him and sits down, Stiles
copying him a second later, and they put food on their plates and start eating.
And damn, isn’t this just the most awkward thing they have ever done together,
or what?
Stiles bites his lips, looking up at Derek  while trying not to look as if he’s
looking, and Derek catches him right on, raising an eyebrow.
“The food is… very good.” He says with a small smile, and Derek looks at him,
as if he’s trying to decide whether Stiles is mocking him or not, “Seriously,
it’s very good. I can cook, dad can too, but we’re too lazy to do it most days,
so we end up eating junk and take out, and this is really good.” He takes
another bite just to stop talking and Derek keeps on looking at him for a few
more seconds.
“Thanks.” The man eventually says, and Stiles smiles at him nervously.
There’s something very wrong with this. How come they can make out like crazy,
and fight like the best of them, and face life and death situations together,
but they can’t eat lunch without feeling like a war is about to begin? Stiles
wants to say something, but he can’t think of anything. The conversation from
last night is ringing in his ears, and he feels as if he talked too much and
yet not enough. It’s like they have this immense barrier between them that can
only go away if one of them is almost dying or being hunted down.
He is opening his mouth to ask Derek to talk to him when the Alpha beats him to
it.
“I called the pack, they’ll be here after school for us to talk about the whole
Gerard situation. Scott swears the man was taking some very suspicious pills
that Deaton thinks might have something to do with his condition. The vet is
already taking a look at them, and Scott will swing by when the others are here
to let us know what he found out.”
“Okay.” Stiles says, looking at Derek and then at his food again.
What is he supposed to do here? Derek is staring at him as if he is expecting
something, and Stiles doesn’t know what it is.
“He came by, after your dad left.” Derek says, scrutinizing Stiles still. The
boy looks at him, a bit confused.
“Who? Scott?” Derek nods, “Oh. What did he want?” he asks more to have
something to say than anything else, because, well, maybe Scott is finally
trying to do what any good friend would do, and came by to see him.
“He asked to join our pack.”
Stiles almost chokes on his food, and actually coughs a few times before
looking at Derek with wide eyes.
“Are you serious? Is he serious?” He asks incredulously.
Derek nods again.
“I couldn’t sense any lies in him, he really wants to be a part of our pack.
Your pack, actually.”
Stiles swallows and takes a drink of water before speaking, because, what the
hell?
“What are you going to do?” He asks, and Derek looks at him as if he’s annoyed
at Stiles.
What did he do, damn it?”
“What do you want to do, Stiles? It’s our pack.” He bites out, and Stiles
stares at him, intrigued. Okay, maybe this is some answer, right there, he just
has to translate it from Derek-speech to Stiles-speech.
“You want my opinion?” he asks, and Derek doesn’t even bother answering, just
continues to stare at him as if Stiles is an idiot, “I think we should talk to
the rest of the pack before deciding on anything. You know Scott is actually
very good at the whole werewolf thing, he has more contact with Deaton than any
of us, he could be useful. But if the others can't trust him, then I don’t see
how we would accept him, right?” He says, looking down, unsure of himself,
because this is huge. He doesn’t want Scott to be an Omega, with Peter lurking
around, and Jackson being a killing lizard, but he can’t just say ‘hey, let’s
take him in’, as if he was a cute puppy, because it wouldn’t be right.
They are a pack. They should make these decisions together. When he finally
gathers his courage enough to look up, Derek’s face’s changed again – he’s
looking relieved. As if this was a test, and Stiles had just aced it.
“Were you testing me?” He asks, a bit indignantly, because come on.
“Maybe.” Derek says, getting up from the table, and putting his dish in the
sink. Stiles temper flares and he has to let go of the glass he’s holding
before he breaks it.
“Why are you doing this? What the hell, Derek?”
“I have to know, Stiles. He was your priority for so long, and now we have to
be your priority, our pack. I had to know.” The man turns from the sink and
faces Stiles, who gets up from his place, completely pissed – way more than he
thought he could get.
“And it is! I submitted to you, I trust you, and I’m here, and you’re testing
me?” He stares at Derek, and sees something flicker in his eyes, and gets the
suspicion that that wasn’t a test for the pack’s benefit, “Was this a test?” He
asks again, coming closer to Derek, “Was this a test for the good of our pack?
For us all? Or was it for you, Derek? Are you feeling threatened by Scott?” He
hisses, standing right in front of Derek.
“I do not feel threatened by a pup.” Derek says, low and dangerous, and Stiles
is even angrier at that.
“Well, I’m older than that pup. Are you going to simply disregard me too?” He
says angrily, coming even closer to Derek, and the man is suddenly turning
away, going to the other side of the kitchen so fast Stiles almost gets
whiplash.
“It’s different.” He says, his voice calmer, and he runs a hand over his face,
as if gathering his strength, “You should rest. The meeting will tire you out
later.”
“No.” He answers, and he knows it’s stupid and childish. He is tired, and he is
aware that he’ll get tired, especially if he’ll have to deal with Scott and the
pack all at once, but he doesn’t want to do something just because Derek tells
him too.
He wants… he wants Derek to make him do it.
“What the hell?!” He says, a little scared at that thought, looking at Derek,
completely confused.
The man sighs, but keeps his distance.
“You’re challenging me. I haven’t claimed you, you were in danger, your wolf is
reacting to it, and it’s trying to make me prove to you I can take care of you.
It’s trying to get me to make you trust me again.” Derek explains, and Stiles
thinks about it, and it actually makes sense – he’s trying to bait Derek ever
since he saw the man.
“I do trust you.” He whispers, because he does. He truly does. Derek has to
believe that.
“Your wolf doesn’t.” Derek answers, looking down, and Stiles feels his heart
break a little, because Derek is thinking Stiles’ wolf is right, Stiles is
sure.
“Then my wolf is stupid.” He says annoyed, and he goes to Derek, who looks like
he wants to turn away, but makes himself stay still, “Derek, I need you to
believe me, I trust you. I wasn’t thinking before, and, honestly, I don’t think
my wolf is having trust issues.” He says, and Derek stares at him, brooding and
quiet and moody, and Stiles wants to laugh at him, but he doesn’t.
“Why were you so irritated, then?”
“Because you implied I would put my own needs in front of the pack’s. And
that’s annoying. Also, you called Scott a pup. I’m his age. I’m not a pup. I’m
your mate.” He says, his eyes flashing, and he’s backing Derek up a wall – he
knows the man could turn the table any time, but he’s letting Stiles take the
lead for a while, “This has to work, Derek. We have to make it work.” He says
the last part desperately, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if Derek
isn’t… here, with him. Handling things with him.
“That is your wolf talking.” Derek says, looking at Stiles, and the boy growls
at him.
“Stop saying that! Do you make a difference between who you are and who your
wolf is? Because that would explain a lot, no one can live thinking he’s two
different things, Derek. I am what I am, and a week ago I was a teenager with a
shitty best friend and ADHD and an unrequited crush on the most popular girl in
school, and now I’m a werewolf mated to the most ansgty of all wolves, but that
is going to be who I am all the time. I can’t deal with this if we’re going to
do the whole my wolf is into yours, but I’m not. Do you not like me? Do you not
want to be with me? Because if you don’t, then we won’t make this work.”
“I don’t separate myself and my wolf, Stiles, I was born like this. But you
weren’t, and it takes time…”
“Maybe other people take time, I don’t!” Stiles interrupts him, “Derek, if this
is going to happen, if we’re in this forever like you implied, this has to work
with everything. Your wolf and you and me and my wolf, we have to be two
people, and that’s it. I can’t be two different things. If I’m with you, then
I’m with you. I don’t know how to handle the whole I’m with you because of my
wolf but that’s it. I can’t, and I don’t want to.”
He stares at Derek but the man doesn’t react. He just looks at Stiles, and
suddenly Stiles realizes what he’s done – he’s issued an ultimatum in their
four day long relationship.
And, Derek, apparently, isn’t as enthusiastic about being with Stiles as Stiles
is with him.
Stiles doesn’t say anything, he just feels as if the floor has been swept under
his feet, and then he gets away from Derek and walks towards the stairs, going
to his room.
Derek stays behind.
Well, that was enlightening. Derek wanted his wolf, but had no interest in him,
of course. It’s not like Stiles has a lot to offer in the relationship
department, anyway. He lies down on the bed, face first, turning on the radio,
just because he doesn’t want to be in silence, and does his best not to try to
listen to what is going on downstairs – if Derek is leaving, or whatever.
It’s fine.
Their wolves are mates, it doesn’t mean that human-person-Derek will ever want
him.
And yet, Derek says he doesn’t separate who he is.
What the hell?
He closes his eyes, and tries very hard not to feel completely rejected. But,
come on, what is he supposed to think? What is he supposed to do, exactly? When
this mess is over, what’ll happen then?
Actually, what happened to the whole I feel very strongly about him? Very
strongly like sending him away at first chance actually.
He shouldn’t even be feeling so bad about this, damn it, he had more important
things to think about, like the pack meeting, and Peter Hale, and Lydia and
Jackson.
Not romancing Derek Hale.
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.
Maybe, just maybe, he should go see a therapist, because the whole I can handle
it is getting harder and harder.
He hears Derek’s breathing way before he hears his voice.
“I thought you’d be scared about this. That you wouldn’t want it.”
Stiles open his eyes but doesn’t get his head out of his pillow.
“I don’t know if I want to have this conversation right now, Derek.”
“And more than you wanting it, you are seventeen. I’m older than you by a lot.
That matters.” Derek continues, as if Stiles hadn’t said anything, “Also, I
really didn’t know you would be so calm about this, so accepting. I was
expecting a huge freak out about being my mate, Stiles. You don’t like me.”
“I didn’t. Now I do.” He says simply, and Derek sighs, a bit annoyed.
“Because of your wolf.” He says, and Stiles turns around in bed, lying on his
back, and staring at Derek.
“No, you moron, because you are here. Do you have any idea what it’s like for
me to know you have my back? That you’ll help me? That you trust me to make the
right decision with the pack? Even before this whole mess, Derek, I didn’t hate
you. I wasn’t fond of the way you seemed to dismiss me, but I didn’t not like
you. I was… jealous. I thought for a while you would steal my best friend away
from me.” He laughs a bit bitterly, “Turns out you didn’t have to, he’d leave
me on his own.”
“I never dismissed you, I just didn’t want you to get hurt. I could feel what
you were, Stiles, and it scared the hell out of me.” Derek says, a note of
desperation in his voice, and his whole face is a mask of it – he’s open and
raw and afraid, and Stiles has never even thought he could be like that, let
alone think he’d be allowed to see it, “I’ve lost everything once. Having you
there, beside Scott when he was trying to be an Alpha, even if he didn’t mean
to, it killed me. Because you could be a Mate, my Mate, and I couldn’t take it.
I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve everything you are, and the good you’ll do
for our pack. I don’t.”
Stiles is staring at Derek, his mouth hanging open, because he doesn’t even
know where to begin to think about it.
What the hell?
“So, yeah, I pushed you away, and I threatened and I growled, because if you
didn’t like me, then, well, I could never, ever, even think about claiming
you.”
“Well, it didn’t work, sour wolf. I’m Alpha proof. And I do like you. But I
can’t manage this hot and cold thing, Derek. I’m not asking you start writing
me poems, mainly because you’d suck at it, but if we’re in this, we’re in this
all the way. We’re not in this when your wolf thinks so, or when I feel like
it. We are together then we are together. I’m not in love with you, I know
you’re not in love with me, it’s too recent, but I need you to tell me now if
this could happen, because I don’t want to keep hoping if you’re never going to
give me anything back.”
Derek stares at him for a full minute before answering.
“Do you think you could fall in love with me?”
Stiles shakes his head, and sits up in bed.
“You know I could. I will, probably. Which is why we’re having this very
awkward conversation. Actually, to be completely honest, I’m just waiting for
you to tell to get over myself, and say you won’t love me, ever, just so I can
deal with that as soon as possible, and try to understand what life will be
like, seeing that as far as I got this, we’re kind of stuck forever.”
Derek doesn’t even answer, he kind of pounces on Stiles, and he’s kissing the
boy with urgency and longing, and everything Stiles never thought Derek would
want from him. It’s fast and hard, and yet careful, because Stiles is not over
his injuries yet, but Derek kisses him, on the bed, holding his own weight on
his arms, careful not to hurt Stiles.
“You’re mine.” Derek says, and Stiles smiles, because that, in Derek-speech,
pretty much means he’s got a shot.
It’s good enough for now.
                                       X
Stiles spends the rest of the afternoon in bed. He sleeps some and rests some,
and gets bored a lot, but he is actually feeling a bit drained, both from the
injuries and the conversation.
Things are never boring in this house.
It’s a bit after four when the rest of the pack comes by, and Stiles is in the
living room, lounging on a couch, Derek answers the door, because when he tried
to get up, the Alpha had actually growledat him, red eyes and everything. Erica
and Isaac are the first in, they smile at Stiles, and Erica actually kisses him
on the cheek. Boyd comes after, nodding respectfully, and at last, Scott comes
in too, looking a bit out of place.
Stiles hadn’t thought he’d come with the rest of the pack, but, oh, well.
Erica sits on the floor, opposite Stiles, and Isaac sits by her side. Boyd
settles on her other side, and Derek growls warningly when Scott tries to sit
on the couch – or what’s left of it. The boy gets the hint and sits on the
floor too, a bit away from the other wolves. Derek sits beside Stiles on the
couch, and Stiles finally sits up a bit, making a face in the process.
“Are you okay?” Scott asks, doing the puppy face thing, and Stiles feels like
laughing.
“I’m fine, just a bit achy, you know? But loads better than this morning. I
should be fine by tomorrow.” He says with an easy smile, which Scott returns
promptly.
Huh. Maybe his best friend is actually trying.
“What did Deaton say about the pills, Scott?” Derek commands more than asks,
and Scott takes a small box from his pocket.
“It’s a mix of wolfsbane and some other herbs. The box is actual silver, even
if it doesn’t make any difference. Dr. Deaton thinks… Well, from the
combination of things in it, and the frequency Gerard was taking these, he
thinks it’s some sort of suppressant. A wolf suppressant. As if Gerard was
bitten, and was taking these to stop himself from changing.”
Everyone is quiet at that, and Stiles can’t help being a bit horrified, because
suppressing his wolf seems simply unnatural for him.
“I’ll find a way to check his body tonight, even if I have to talk to Argent to
do it.” Derek says, and everyone nods.
“Oh my god, Allison.” Isaac says, and everyone turns to him. He has his hand in
front of his mouth, and he looks horrified.
“What about Allison?” Scott says, and Isaac looks at Derek and then at Stiles
before speaking.
“It’s awful what he did, but they are hunters, it’s understandable. But if… If
there is a way to suppress it, Victoria didn’t have to die.”
Well, that puts the icing on their unpleasant cake, doesn’t it?
“That man was a monster.” Says Scott, making Derek turns to him, and Stiles can
see that this is Alpha Derek, the Derek that feels threatened by having an
Omega near his pack, and one that had betrayed them too.
“And yet you were helping him.”
“I made a mistake, ok? He threatened my mom!” He defends himself, and he knows
it’s weak, but it’s all he’s got.
“And on that bright note, was Jackson at school today?” Stiles asks, before
Scott spontaneously combusts from Derek’s glare alone.
“He was at school, and he was completely normal.” Boyd answers promptly, “I
overheard him talking on the phone, before practice, and the voice sounded like
Lydia Martin.” He says, and startles a bit at Derek’s growl. Stiles smiles
widely, because, come on, Derek is growling because he’s jealous of Lydia, how
awesome is that?
Not at all if they ever meet, but anyway.
“Maybe she’s his anchor.” Stiles suggests, and everyone stares at him, “They
date since forever, and she really, really loves the jerk. It could be it.”
No one answers, because they know it’s likely, but they can’t exactly know the
truth, so there’s nothing they can do about it.
“I think we should discuss Scott’s situation before we continue this.” Erica
says, “If he’s not in the pack, he shouldn’t listen to anything else.” She
points out, and Scott immediately looks at Stiles, as if expecting support.
Well, packs before bros.
“I agree.” Stiles says, looking at Scott and shrugging, “I and Derek talked
before, and we agreed that we should be democratic about this. We should vote.
If you guys are comfortable with him, or willing to give him a chance, then
he’s in.” He explains simply, and feels Derek practically vibrate by his side
with dissatisfaction, probably thinking of all the ways he could have said that
with growls and threats.
“I’m against it.” Boyd says quickly, and everyone looks at him, “He’s a danger
to the pack.”
Stiles smiles a bit.
“But that’s not why you’re voting against him, you’re voting against him
because you think he could threaten your position in the pack.” He points out,
and Boyd doesn’t deny it, he just shrugs, he’s still against it.
“I’m against it too.” Erica says, “But it’s only because he’s a complete jerk.”
She completes with a sweet smile, and Stiles laughs quietly.
Isaac stares at Scott for some time before saying anything, and Scott is
already looking miserable.
“I’m for it. He deserves a chance, and no one deserves to be alone without at
least a second chance.”
Everyone turns to stare at Stiles and he laughs.
“Seriously, you have any doubt I’m voting for it? I’m second in command,
bitches, this is my chance to order him around.” He says with a grin, and Scott
smiles back at him.
It’s their turn to look at Derek, and he isn’t looking at Scott, he’s staring
at Stiles. He searches for long minutes before sighing loudly and finally
looking at the boy in the floor.
“We’ll do this properly this time. Tomorrow night. Now you all go home, and
take care. Don’t wander alone, and call me if anything, and I mean anything,
happens.”
They all nod, and Stiles sees the way Isaac seems to deflate at being ordered
home.
Because, you know, he hasn’t got any.
“Hey, Isaac.” He calls as the others are leaving and the boy stares at him
curiously, “Ahm, I know it’s a stupid question, but do you want to stay over
tonight? I could get homework and stuff form you, for the classes we have
together, and I wouldn’t be alone with my dad when he came back, because he’s
not a werewolf, and Derek has to go home at some point, if only to change, not
that we’d be able to tell, what with all the black.” He says, and Isaac is
staring at him suspiciously.
Finally, the boy nods.
“I’ll just get my backpack from Erica’s car.” He says, and Stiles smiles at
him, watching him leave.
Suddenly, he’s being grabbed by the waist, and Derek is kissing him again.
“About before… You know I will.” The man whispers, and lets him go, going back
to the kitchen.
The smile that spreads over Stiles face could light up the whole house.
 
Chapter End Notes
     And this is it.
     Action will be back on the next chapter!
     I’m sorry again for the delay, guys!
     Tell me what you thought of the chapter!
     REVIEW!
***** Something Settles *****
Chapter Notes
     I’m so sorry it took me this long!
     But I kind of got involved with Come Out and Play, and work and
     stuff.
     You may be glad to know that, I think, we’re getting to the end of
     this story. Just this one and two more chapters, and we’ll be done.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Pale Horses
                               Something Settles
When Isaac gets back in the house, Stiles is still smiling. The other boy
simply stares at him, but shakes his head and follows Stiles up the stairs,
where he shows him to his room, where he’ll be sleeping.
They grab their school stuff and head to the living room – usually, Stiles
either works in his own room or the dining room, but none is an option right
now: his room because he has a feeling Derek would flip at being ignored in the
kitchen, and the dining room because of their lack of tables.
Stiles starts looking through Isaac’s notes, and the other boy is working on
some homework. They can hear Derek in the kitchen, and finally the man comes
out, holding a plate with sandwiches on it.
He sets the plate on the table, and Stiles looks up, his mouth hanging open.
“Dude, what?” He says, and Isaac hides his snicker behind his notebook.
“They are called sandwiches, Stiles. You eat them.” Derek says, as if he’s
talking to a very small kid and Stiles glares at him.
“I know what they are, what I didn’t know was that you could make them.” He
points out, and Derek rolls his eyes.
“It’s not rocket science, and you need to eat. Your dad would kill me if I let
you go hungry. You’re injured.”
Stiles smirks at Derek.
“I’m injured, and you’re afraid of my father.” He teases, and Derek glares at
him.
“Well, he is the Sheriff.” Isaac says quietly. He’s smiling a bit nervously, as
if he isn’t quite sure he’s allowed to play along, as if he’s expecting to be
left out or turned down.
It makes Stiles heart break a little bit, and that’s why he smiles at Isaac.
“Eat up, little wolf, daddy made you a snack.” He says, grabbing a sandwich for
himself, and pushing the plate towards Isaac.
“If I’m the dad, you’re the mom, Stiles.” Derek says, and there it is again,
the smirky smile he shows sometimes, playing along with them, and Stiles can
feel Isaac relaxing.
And then he realizes what Derek’s said when Isaac starts laughing.
“Hey! That’s not nice, sourwolf!” he protests indignantly, but Derek merely
runs a hand on his neck and goes to the couch, leaving them to work.
They can hear the TV on the background, and Stiles is pretty sure Derek is
watching something on a sports channel, while they work.
Is this it? Is this how things are going to be when everything is okay, when
Jackson is fine, and Peter is dealt with, and the Argents aren’t trying to kill
them all? Is this his family now? His dad, and Derek, and Erica, and Boyd, and
Isaac, and Scott – his weird family?
He thinks about it for a second, and he thinks about a place big enough that
they could have all of them over when they wanted to, and where there’s land
enough around it that they can run during the full moon in their wolf forms,
and where there’s always someone around.
Where there’s no more loneliness, and no more fear of being rejected, and no
more hiding who you are?
Because if it is, Stiles can totally get used to it.
Perhaps he already is.
                                       X
Derek is trying this new thing where he doesn’t think about the things that are
happening, because if he does, he’ll freak out so badly he’ll do something
stupid, and hurt everyone.
So he isn’t thinking.
He’s watching TV.
Watching TV and absolutely not thinking about the fact that for the first time
ever since his family had died in the fire, he feels at peace.
He had forgotten what this felt like. This calm, this certainty that things
would be okay, that he didn’t need to run anymore, that everything he needed
was here – even if they were in danger now, they would deal with it.
He could feel it.
The way Isaac’s and Stiles’ voices come from the other side of the room, their
quiet banter, arguing over Chemistry, the way the pack had behaved before,
talking things through, instead of his usual bark and obey. How Stiles knew
Isaac longed for some company, some sense of normalcy.
They are healing.
And the problem is Derek doesn’t think he deserves to heal. He chose those
teenagers to be his new pack for a reason, anything he gave them was better
than what they had, and they wouldn’t expect more than that. They wouldn’t
expect a family, a sense of belonging, of feeling complete only when you know
your pack is safe, and sound, and happy. He would get the power he needed, and
they would have a better life, and that was it – no pack, no attachments, no
true feeling of family.
They should not care about each other; they just had to fight together.
And then Stiles came along, and it all went to hell.
Derek is actually feeling resentful of the fact that he’s happy. Truly happy.
He’s not feeling miserably alone anymore, he’s content. His heart is at peace
knowing his mate and one of his pack are just a few feet away.
He made them sandwiches for Christ sake!
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm his thoughts and his
feelings, because he can’t deal with it right now. He has other things to do,
such as finding out if Gerard was truly a werewolf without changing, because if
he was, then the man might not be really dead.
And that thought alone makes him ache again – he can still hear Stiles’ screams
ringing in his ears, his despair, the way Stiles felt against him, still and
empty – and that’s what makes him feeling like an idiot for not wanting this.
Stiles is it for him, he’s everything. It’s stupid that he’s saying he will
fall in love with him, it’s such a human emotion – he’s more than fallen for
Stiles, his belongs with Stiles, and that’s bigger than falling in love.
Or it will be, if he is ever brave enough to claim Stiles.
Derek tries focusing on the game again, he honestly has no idea what is going
on on the field, but as long as he can pretend to be watching it, he will.
He doesn’t have to wait long, though, because soon he can hear the Sheriff’s
car coming on the street, and Derek turns around to talk to Stiles.
“I’m going to go now, and I’ll be back in the morning to talk to you. Stay out
of trouble, and call if anything happens.” Stiles looks at him as if he wants
to argue, and he decides to continue, “Isaac will be able to help if anything
happens, but I would feel better knowing you’ll call me.”
Emotional blackmail. He can do it.  Stiles looks conflicted for about half a
second, his instincts to deal with everything by himself fighting against his
will to actually make Derek happy.
“I promise.” He says, and Derek gives him half a smile, and leaves, touching
Isaac’s shoulder briefly in his way out.
Stiles’ dad gets home just a few seconds after Derek goes away, and he raises
an eyebrow at Isaac, but that’s the only sign he gives that he’s not getting
what the hell is going on here.
They spent the night in, and nothing happens for once.
Stiles goes to bed early, because he’s tired, and falls asleep to the sound of
his father asking Isaac if he’d like to watch a game with him.
He truly doesn’t even need to be a werewolf to hear how pleased Isaac is at the
invitation.
It must be really late at night when Stiles wakes up to the sound of steps on
the stairs. He opens his eyes carefully, and sees Isaac is already awake. They
keep quiet, both internally panicking about what to do – jump up and attack?
But what if it’s his father (even if he knows it isn’t, because his dad doesn’t
step that lightly), and what if it’s just a regular thief, who’s decided to rob
the sheriff’s house as revenge for being wrongly arrested, which then doesn’t
make him a regular thief anymore, but a very stupid, yet vengeful, man.
“I’m calling Derek.” Stiles whispers at Isaac, who’s lying on his bed on the
floor and staring creepily at the door.
“That was exactly what I wanted to hear.” They both hear Derek’s voice in the
corridor, too quiet to wake his dad up, but loud enough that they can hear him
just fine.
When he opens the door to Stiles’ room, the boy throws a pillow at him.
“You complete jerk! We were worried!”
“I’m sorry.” He says, but he’s grinning, so it doesn’t look as if he’s truly
apologizing.
He gets in, and Stiles sits up in bed, Isaac looking at the two of them
curiously, and just a bit unsure of himself.
Derek doesn’t say anything; he just sits on Stiles’s bed, takes off his shoes,
and lies down, pulling Stiles down with him.
“Hey!” The boy starts protesting, but Derek merely growls.
“Sleep.” He says, “Both of you.”
Isaac does lie down, and Stiles glares at Derek, who glares right back.
Eventually, the man closes his eyes, and Stiles shakes his head.
So, this is his life now. Nice, great, amazing.
But even ranting internally, he has to admit that the thought of Derek and
Isaac with him makes him feel calmer.
It’s pack.
It’s home.
It’s safe.
And with that thought, he falls asleep again.
                                       X
“I’m going, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Stiles says, and he can
just tell Derek is grinding his teeth not to growl at him.
They are at Stiles’s again, and the whole day had gone by with no incidents.
Isaac had gone to school, and reported Jackson was still going, and still
normal; John had reported no weird happenings in town, and things were shaping
up to be fine at the night of Scott’s submission to the Alpha.
Except at five o’clock, just an hour before they had agreed to meet at the
abandoned warehouse Derek had been calling a hideout, Chris Argent had called
and asked for a meeting.
Apparently, Derek had gone to the man the night before, and demanded some
answers – Chris, in light of Stiles’ torture and on the behalf of his
daughter’s mental balance, hadn’t shot first and answered questions later, and
had said he’d look into it.
Now he had, and he wanted to meet to give those answers.
Thus Derek declaring Stiles wasn’t going to his best friend’s acceptance into
his pack.
As if.
“Stiles, Argent might be using this to trick us!”
“Yes, and that’s all the more reason for me to be there, because in case you
have forgotten, I’m a wolf too now, Derek! I can help!”
“You’re injured! You’re not even going to school!”
“And you and I both know that’s just to avoid suspicion, and that I am
perfectly fine!”
“What if you lose control?” Derek bites out, his eyes flashing red.
“I won’t. Because you’ll be there, and you’re my anchor.” Stiles answers and
Derek falters at the words, because, well, that was pretty big.
Emotional blackmail: two could play that game, Stiles thinks, smirking
internally.
Not that it isn’t true – well, technically it isn’t, because he hasn’t really
shifted all the way to know it, but he’s pretty sure he’s right.
“I just… I don’t want to risk you.” Derek says, and Stiles starts to realize
there’s something more into this than just Derek being paranoid.
“What is it?” He says, looking at Derek firmly, “Just tell me, or I’m
withholding sex.” He threatens, and that startles a laugh – short and raspy,
but a laugh, aha! Triumph! –out of Derek.
“We’re not having sex.” Derek deadpans, and Stiles smirks at him.
“Well, and if you don’t tell me, that’s not going to change any time soon.” He
says, still smirking.
“Who says that’s going to change either way?” Derek bites out, and Stiles’s
smirk vanishes.
Oh. Okay. So, he’s the mate, and the man had pretty much admitted he could fall
in love with him the day before, but he doesn’t want to have sex with him.
That’s… confusing. And demeaning, in a way Stiles can’t quite put his finger on
yet.
Derek notices the change in his behavior, and sighs angrily.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I just… Damn it, Stiles!”
“Wow, hold on there, mister, how come you get to be pissy right now?”
“We’re meeting at my place.” Derek says, and Stiles looks at him as if he’s
unbalanced.
Which he probably is, but ok.
“I know.” He answers, and Derek shakes his head.
“No, Stiles, my place. The Hale house.”
Well, that explains the paranoia and the anger and just about everything in
that very confusing conversation.
“Chris chose the place?” He says quietly, and Derek nods, “Gotta love those
Argents, huh?”
Derek doesn’t say anything, but Stiles sighs.
“Look, it makes me twitchy, and I know you won’t like it either, but it’s
Scott’s acceptance to the pack, and a whole lot of answers we really need here.
I’ve been in the pack for just a few days, but I was already involved in this
for way longer, and I want to know what the guy who almost killed me had to
hide so badly. I need to know. I want to know that he was only doing this
because he was crazy, and not because this is something that runs in the
family, because then I’ll have to worry about Scott more than I already do. I
have to go. I want to. And I know you’re the Alpha and everything, but
protecting people isn’t about not letting them make their own choices, and I
want to go.” He stops talking, and stares at Derek, looking right into his
eyes, “And you can’t stop me.” He adds, just for effect.
Derek doesn’t say anything, he just looks angry and broody and dark: his
default setting is back! They leave a note for his father, and drive to the
Hale house in Derek’s Camaro.
They are the very last to arrive, and Stiles can tell every single wolf is
very, very nervous about being so close to a hunter and his offspring of
craziness without their Alpha. Derek gets out of the car first, and he doesn’t
wait for Stiles.
Pack dynamics, maybe? Showing he’s the Alpha, and doesn’t wait for anyone, or
is he just pissed at Stiles coming at all?
The boy gets out of the car, and looks around him – they are all in front of
the house, but none of them makes any sign that they want to get in. Ok, it’ll
be an outdoorsy kind of night. Chris is holding himself together like a bow
ready to shoot, but he reeks of anxiety. Something is making the hunter nervous
and sad, and Stiles looks at Allison next.
Well, that’s a wreck waiting to happen. She looks so lost, and so sad, and so
completely miserable Stiles can’t even summon up enough anger at her for, you
know, being there when he was being fried to death. Scott is staring at Allison
with longing, but he’s holding his ground. Isaac, Erica and Boyd are nearest to
Derek, who stops walking when he’s opposite Chris, in a sort of circle. When
Stiles gets to where they are, Boyd takes a slight step to the right, leaving a
spot open directly to Derek’s right.
Oh, yes. His spot. He takes his place quietly and stares at Chris, who looks at
him and then looks down, clearly showing he isn’t here for a fight.
“What did you find out, Argent?” Derek asks, his voice demanding and angry, and
so very Derek Stiles wants to shake his head, but he doesn’t, because that
could be taken as demeaning in front of an enemy – and he knows that man is the
enemy, even if they are kind of working together now.
The man takes a deep breath, and stops, looking up.
He’s trembling. Allison probably wouldn’t notice, but all the werewolves do –
he’s shaking a little, his hands are unsteady.
“He was stopping his change with those pills.” He says, “We looked at the body
last night, and today we took samples to Deaton – of both the pills and his own
blood. He was actually stopping the change. Deaton thinks it wouldn’t work for
very long, so the bite wasn’t old, probably from his last hunt, but it was
effective enough that we didn’t notice.”
He looks at Derek straight in the eye, as if waiting for the Alpha to mock him
– Argent obviously doesn’t know Derek. He would never mock the death of a
family member, even though he hated him.
“Did it affect… uhm, his mental balance?” Stiles can’t help but ask, because,
honestly? He’d feel a lot better if the whole kidnapping him thing was fruit of
a very psychotic side effect of an Anti-Werewolf medication than, you know,
pure hatred.
“No.” Chris answers, looking at Stiles, “His choices were his own, till the
very end.”
Including the choice of not telling Chris or Victoria that she didn’t have to
change if she didn’t want to. That she could have lived, if only a little
longer.
“It’s not a cure, then?” Derek presses on, and Stiles looks at him quizzically,
noticing he glances at Scott while he’s talking. Better ask the question that
it’s burning inside Scott than let him speak and ruin their organized pack
image, “It’s not that effective?” He continues uninterestedly, and Chris shakes
his head.
“Nothing can cure you. Even the myth of killing the one who made is a lie. And
the suppressant wouldn’t work forever, a few more months and it would have
killed him or made him change into a beast.”
Derek nods, but then Stiles remembers something else.
“Is he dead for real?” He says, and every eye in the clearing turns to him,
including Allison’s. He expects to see her mad at him, but she only looks
regretful, “It’s a valid question, we aren’t exactly easy to kill, and I don’t
think a shot and an arrow would be enough. I’m sorry if that’s insensitive, but
I’m kind of terrified of that guy, ok?” He finishes, raising his hands in
surrender, and Derek looks at him for a second, before pulling him to his side,
one of his arms around him, and he nips at Stiles’ neck.
In front of the Argents.
Okay, that’s totally weird in the nicest way possible.
Chris stares at the interaction with narrowed eyes before answering.
“He is.” He says shortly, but none of them are really convinced.
“Are you sure about that?” Erica asks, tilting her head and looking hot and
dangerous – it’s a look she can pull off easily.
“Yes.” All of them stare, because it’s Allison who answers. Her voice is thick
with tears, and she looks broken, “It’s a new arrow. It wasn’t laced with
wolfsbane, it was made of wolfsbane. He did it himself. It would kill any wolf
instantly.” She looks at Derek, then, and they all can see she’s trembling, “It
was one of a kind, he took the secret of it to the grave with him. And it was
intended for you.” She whispers, lost and hopeless.
She’s just lost two family members. She’s alone and lost and scared, and
Stiles’ heart aches just by looking at her.
“I am sorry.” Derek says, looking at her and startling Stiles – what? The big
bad wolf is apologizing? “I didn’t mean to bite your mother, and I only did it
to defend Scott. She was killing him, and even though he was betraying us, I
couldn’t let a teen die.”
Allison doesn’t answer – she just looks down, and they can see the tears fall
to the ground. Chris pulls her to his side, strangely mirroring Stiles and
Derek’s position.
“We know. The Argent clan is going through a rough patch, and we trust the
Hales won’t do anything stupid. We call a truce.” Argent says, and they can all
see how much this costs him, his pride, his beliefs, the memory of the ones he
lost to them, but he’s doing it anyway, and Stiles can see why: his daughter.
He wants her to have time enough to heal, he wants her to stop hurting, and it
won’t go away, ever, the pain and the misery of losing her mother, but she can
get better.
She has to.
And Chris is willing to give them all a chance if it means he will have a
chance to let his daughter heal in peace.
Derek stares at Stiles for a second, and Stiles nods at him.
“We accept it.” He finally says, staring at Argent, and finally letting go of
Stiles to offer Chris a hand.
The hunter looks as if the hand will burn him alive, but he takes it, and they
shake on their truce. Stiles lets go of a breath he didn’t even he was holding,
and hopes to God this truce will last.
“In the name of our truce, I will let you know now that Peter Hale is alive,
and on the hunt for my mate.” He says, the words paining him, to share
information with the enemy, but it’s to keep his mate safe, so he’ll do it.
“We’ll do our best.” Chris says, and Stiles can smell the lie on him.
He’s a hunter; he probably wishes Peter will wipe them all out before they kill
him.
The Argents turn to go away, and Stiles sees the very meaningful look Allison
and Scott exchange.
They are so not over.
The acceptance of Scott in the pack is slightly anticlimactic after the meeting
with the hunters, but he’s officially in the pack after submitting to both
Derek and Stiles.
He’s at the very bottom of the food chain too, and that makes Stiles smiles a
bit, because, come on, Scott is good at being a werewolf, and terribly at being
a friend, he needs to learn.
The others leave after that, Scott being teased by Erica and Boyd endlessly,
while Isaac tries to defend him, and Stiles and Derek stand there, looking at
the ruin of a house.
“You need a decent place to live.”
Stiles comments, and Derek turns to stare at him, eyebrows raised.
“What? You do, Derek. We can’t be trying to find you in a warehouse all the
time, and as soon as my dad realizes the crises is over, after we deal with
Peter and Jackson, he’ll want to know things about you. Do you think it’ll be
any easier for him to accept you if you’re living like a criminal? Besides, if
this progresses, I won’t be living with my dad forever, and I refuse to live in
a dump. I’m not saying renovate the place, I’m saying find an apartment.” He
finishes shrugging, but Derek’s brain has apparently stopped.
Oh, maybe he shouldn’t have gone for the ‘we’ll probably live together’ thing?
“I mean, we can, if you want to. Or we can, you know, be all modern, and live
each at our own place, it’s fine. More than fine, really, I think you’ll murder
me if we have to live together for longer than a few days. It was only a
thought anyway. Look, if you want to stay at the warehouse it’s okay, I’ll just
find myself an apartment when I graduate, and I can be the normal one in this…”
But he doesn’t finish, because Derek is kissing him.
Again.
Apparently, kissing Stiles is the new Shut up, Stiles for Derek.
Slowly, he pulls away, smirking again.
“I’ll find a way.” Derek says, and pulls Stiles after him to the car.
Okay, then.
Everything is fine and dandy until they come home, and then they smell
something weird in the air, something strong and strange, that they can’t
properly identify.
The house reeks of it when they get in there and find house completely normal –
but empty. His father’s car is in the driveway, but he isn’t home.
He’s nowhere to be found, and he’s not answering his phone.
And that’s when Stiles understand what they are actually smelling – they are
smelling fear.
Fear, and Peter Hale.
Chapter End Notes
     I’M SORRY FOR THE CLIFFIE!
     Next chapter will be up tomorrow, it’s already in the works!
     Thanks a lot for your support and patience, guys, you are all
     amazing!
     REVIEW!
***** Something Is Cured *****
Chapter Notes
     I will never promise a day to post ever again, because I never seem
     to make it. But, well, I got sick, and there was a death in the
     family, the week was complete crap, and I am really sorry.
     I hope the extra-long chapter (almost twenty pages, geez) will make
     up for it.
     This is the last one, the Epilogue will be up tomorrow!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Pale Horses
                              Something Is Cured
Stiles kicks the door closed, and winces a bit when the whole house seems to
shake with the force of it.
Three days. His dad has been gone for three days, and there hasn’t been a
single sign of him, a warning, nothing. Not a note. Not a single request for a
meeting, a phone call demanding ransom.
Nothing.
The police are, of course, involved – there’s no way to keep them out of it
seeing as John is thefreaking sheriff – but they don’t have any clues either.
Actually they resemble a bunch of headless chicken running around, because the
Sheriff has actually found a way to deal with the cases that had been piling
up, and now they can’t make any sense of anything without him. Because he knew
what really happened, and they obviously don’t.
Stiles hasn’t slept in three days. He’s twitchy, and jumpy, and angry all the
time, and nothing can make him calm down. Isaac and Derek seem to be the only
ones who dare come near him at all, because he’s snapped at Scott, and almost
made Erica cry, and Boyd just can’t be around him without getting angry
himself.
He’s miserable.
He needs his dad back, and every fucking seconds that goes by is a second
longer that Peter has his dad – because he has no doubt that is Peter who has
him. The whole house smells like Peter, like he had taken his dad, and then
come back and scented the whole place.
And yet they can’t find him.
It’s hell.
“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, or ever, but you need to calm
down,” Derek finally says, when Stiles is still staring at the door he
practically broke when the latest officer went away, after informing Stiles
that no, they had no idea where his dad is.
Stiles just glares at him and turns around, intent on going to his room, but
Derek won’t let him pass, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him close. He
glares at Derek, and Derek glares right back, and backs him up against the back
of the couch.
“Let me tell you something about you, ok? You affect the people around you. You
did it as a human, you do it as a werewolf, and as a Mate of this pack you’re
doing it to your werewolves – to our charges seeing as they are all minors, and
newly turned. You are making them twitchy and angry and miserable. Is that what
you want to do?” Derek’s eyes flashing red and Stiles won’t stop glaring.
“I don’t want to deal with their shit right now,” he hisses, and Derek takes a
step closer, and Stiles really hadn’t thought that was possible.
“Really? That’s the way it’s going to be? The first crisis we have as a pack
and you don’t care about anything anymore? What happened to the whole ‘we can
do this’ crap? What happened to you telling me we were in this together? We
aren’t doing this together, Stiles. You are falling apart by yourself, and you
are dragging us all down with you.”
Stiles stares angrily at Derek for a few seconds, and then he seems to deflate
and shrink into himself. Derek doesn’t let him go, and doesn’t lose the angry
expression he’s sporting, he just waits.
“It’s… It’s my dad, Derek.”
And Derek gets it. That’s why they can make this work, and that’s why they are
actually really good together as Alpha and second in command – because to any
of the others, ‘It’s my dad’ would sound whiny, or needy, or obvious: of course
it’s his dad. But that’s not what Stiles is saying. What he is saying is that
his dad is a weakness and he is feeling guilty about everything. He feels
guilty because his dad was taken because of him, and he feels guilty that the
pack is suffering for it, because his dad is his.
Derek gets it that ‘It’s my dad’ means that his dad is everything he has
outside of the pack, and this whole thing is too recent for him to be able to
see the pack as a replacement for his dad if he loses him.
Derek gets it.
“We know. And we are feeling bad for it too, because we can’t do anything
either; but, Stiles, being angry won’t help anything. And taking it out on the
pack won’t make things better.”
Stiles actually snorts at it, and Derek half-smiles, because, come on, pot-
kettle here.
“Well, angry is my default setting. It’s not yours. It’s making the whole pack
feel bad for something that isn’t their fault, because this isn’t our fault.
None of ours.”
Stiles takes a deep breath then, and Derek can see his eyes filling up with
tears.
He almost feels relieved. As soon as Stiles has a breakdown, he’ll be able to
deal with this – at least Derek hopes so.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispers, letting his head fall forward, against Derek’s
shoulder, and the man runs a hand on his back, trying to be comforting, “I
just… Damn, I just wish Peter would make his move. I’m not good at waiting
things out.” Derek snorts again, but doesn’t say anything.
He gives Stiles a few minutes to get himself back together and pulls away.
“Please, go get some sleep,” he says, staring at Stiles and the boy manages
half a smile, nodding. He sighs and runs his hands over his face, going
upstairs.
Derek waits for a few minutes before going to Stiles’ room to check on him, and
sees he is actually sleeping – even if he looks troubled, it’s more than he’s
done in the past couple of days. He calls Scott and asks him to come over and
stay with Stiles while he goes out. He won’t leave his mate unprotected and
sleeping in his house, and Scott is the one who stands a better chance at not
annoying Stiles back to his angry mood.
He needs to find the Sheriff.
He won’t even think about what his death would mean for Stiles, for the pack,
for him.
He will find the Sheriff.
He will.
                                       X
Stiles wakes up to a soft knocking on his door, and sleepily tells whoever it
is to come in. Scott puts his head through a small crack on the door and looks
at him, reeking of anxiety. He feels like such a jerk for making his best
friend look like that while talking to him.
“Hey,” he says sitting up, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.
“Hey,” Scott answers, and gets into the room, not closing the door, “Derek
called me a couple hours ago, asked me to stay with you.”
“Thanks,” Stiles responds, looking down. Derek is out, probably trying to track
his father. He heart shrinks in his chest, but he breaths in deeply, and lets
it go slowly, calming himself down, “Is everything okay?” he asks, because
Scott wouldn’t wake him up for nothing.
“Ahm… There’s someone here to see you. Nothing’s wrong or anything!” he says
quickly when Stiles looks like he might start panicking, “She said she heard
the news about your dad earlier and wanted to, you know, offer her support.”
“Who is it?” he asks, confused.
“Lydia.”
His eyes widen, and Scott grins a little.
“Yeah, so, she’s downstairs, and I would tell her to just come up, but I don’t
think Derek would really like the whole ‘Lydia is in your room’ thing, if the
growling when her name is mentioned is anything to go by.”
Stiles chuckles weakly at it, and nods at Scott.
“I’ll go talk to her,” he says, getting up.
“Ok. I’ll just… stay up here. I won’t listen in,” Scott promises very
awkwardly, and Stiles just shakes his head, going down stairs.
He gets to the living room and sees the girls he thought he loved for at least
ten years sitting on his couch.
She’s pale, and she smells off – she smells like fear and… something else.
Something wrong. As if she smells of fear and nothing else, and that’s just
wrong, because everybody smells like something.
“Hey,” he greets weakly, and she turns around.
She is crying. Not crying like, ‘oh my god, I’m so sorry your dad was
kidnapped’, but crying like, ‘I’m so sorry I’m going to get you killed’.
“Shit,” he says, staring at her, and she looks down.
“He made me do it. And Jackson, I’ can’t… I don’t know what he is, but he… he
answers to me. And he made me do it, Stiles, I’m so sorry.” She raises her eyes
and stares at him, her hands in front of her body, wriggling, “You have to come
to him. Now. You have to come to him now, with me, or he’s going to kill your
dad, I’m so, so sorry,” she finishes, bursting into tears, and Stiles looks at
his side, where Scott is hiding by the stairs. So much for not listening in.
Thank God for his snoopy friends.
He tries to make Scott understand he’ll have to remain hidden, and the boy
seems to catch on with his plan.
“You are Jackson’s Master. And Peter is using you to control him,” he states,
very calmly, very easily. It’s hell not knowing anything, but he’s good in a
crisis, when shit is happening. What he can’t deal with is the wait.
Lydia nods, and stares at him.
“You have to come with me,” she repeats, glancing at her watch.
“I will. This is my dad we’re talking about, I’m coming. But I need to wrap my
mind around this. How could we not smell him? Or Jackson, or even you here?”
She just shakes her head, and looks at him as if she’s scared of him too now.
It probably hadn’t occurred to her that he was one of the creatures that keep
hurting and haunting her.
“He… he has this thing, it throws off our scent. That’s what he says,” she says
in a very quiet voice, and Stiles takes a deep breath.
Okay, what to do, what to do.
“We have to go NOW!” she almost screams, staring at her watch again, and Stiles
raises his hands.
“Okay, I’m going. I’m going with you right now, with no backup, and no friends
to help me. I’m going,” he answers, and she turns to leave. Stiles looks at
Scott and mouths Pack at him, before showing his cell phone at him, and putting
it back in his pocket.
He gets into Lydia’s car, and all he can do is hope Scott will know what to do.
                                       X
Scott gets up and thinks about running after them – he can catch up with
Lydia’s car in his wolf form, but then what would he do? Growl at Peter?
Stiles said Pack, so pack it is. He takes his phone out and calls Derek first.
He just hopes he’ll survive the phone call.
                                       X
The thing about Peter Hale is that he’s just never what you expect him to be.
Stiles particularly thinks the man should be at least half burned still, like
the Phantom of the Opera, with the shit he pulls.
He also thinks he should be, you know, dead, because he died, being burned up
by him and Lydia, and having his throat ripped out by Derek.
But nooooooooo, he’s handsome, in the creepiest way possible, and he’s very
much alive.
Also, he’s not in a warehouse, in an abandoned shack, in a cabin in the woods –
no. He’s in a small, yet respectful, house. One story high, with a garden full
of colorful lilies in front of it, and bright curtains in the windows.
What the hell?
He and Lydia took about fifteen minutes to get there in her car – and in
fifteen minutes you pretty much covered all of Beacon Hills in any direction.
Everything is quiet in the neighborhood, the sun is shining, birds are singing,
and Stiles swears he hears children laughing in a nearby park.
And his father is inside that house, probably half dead.
Peter is a psychopath.
“This is it?” he says when Lydia parks and tries not to shake. She just nods,
and Stiles looks at her, really looks at her, “Are you okay?”
She stares at him incredulously for a second.
“I’m really not,” she whispers, and points to the house, “You should get in,
he’s waiting for you.”
“Is… Is Jackson there?” he asks, because if the Kanima’s there, then chances
are Peter will have him paralyzed the second he gets in.
Not good. At all.
She stares at him again, her eyes full of tears.
“He said we’re free. He said that if I got you here, he’d let us go, me and
Jackson. I’m sorry, Stiles, I really am, but…”
But her life, and Jackson’s, were worth more to her than Stiles’ and his dad’s.
He stares at her for a second, and wonders what it must be like – to be able to
put yourself first like this.
It must be freaking awesome sometimes.
“I get it,” he says quietly, and leaves the car.
His only chance now is for the pack to track him down by his cellphone, like
Chris had done for Allison.
He doubts his chances are good.
He opens the small, wooden gate, and walks the few feet between him and the
door, listening to Lydia’s car go away.
He’s on his own, to deal with the man who wants to… He doesn’t want to think
about it. His dad is there, and he’s getting him out of there, and that’s it.
The door is slightly open when he gets to it, and he doesn’t knock. He gets in
the brightly lit living room. There are two armchairs, a bright green color,
and a TV set. The curtains are, like he suspected, bright and airy, a light
green, swaying slightly with the breeze coming through the windows. The floor
is covered by a light cream carpet, and the corridor to the rest of the house
has some flowery wallpaper on it. The place is homey; it feels like it should
be lived in by a soccer mom and an office dad, with 2.5 children, with cookies
and milk before bed.
Not the place to have the sheriff hostage, and a Mate Werewolf to come to as a
sacrifice.
He looks around the empty space and takes a deep breath – he has no idea what
to do. He has no plan, no strategy, not a retort in his mouth, nothing. The
place has… thrown him off. He could deal with Gerard and his brand of
craziness, with the kidnapping and being hostage in the basement of a house
that’s falling apart. He’d know what to do if this was a normal blackmail
thing.
He feels that, should he scream in this place, the police would be here in no
time.
Maybe he should.
As soon as he finds his dad.
“Honey, you’re home.” Stiles turns around so fast he almost gets whiplash.
Peter Hale is in a dark blue shirt, his cuffs undone, just like the top buttons
in the shirt. He’s wearing jeans, and his hair is pulled back.
He’s barefoot.
The crazy werewolf who almost killed him twice and kidnapped his father is
barefoot in a Stepford Wife’s living room.
“Where’s my dad?” he demands, and is glad to notice his voice didn’t tremble.
Much.
Peter smiles at him.
“Sleeping,” he answers simply, shrugging slightly. Stiles doesn’t say anything
to that, he just glares, and Peter rolls his eyes, “Oh, please, darling, I want
you by my side, and not even I am crazy enough to think you’d be here for a
second if your dad was, you know, gone. He’s sleeping, just like he has been
for the past three days. He wakes up every eight hours, and he’s fed, and then
he goes to sleep again. I wouldn’t hurt my future father-in-law.”
Stiles stares at him incredulously for a few seconds – and then, when he opens
his mouth to say something, Peter moves fast than he had anticipated, and has
him by the throat.
“I would really think about what you are going to say, dear. Try not to
aggravate the man controlling the Kanima and who has your dad and a cupboard
full of tranquilizers.”
Stiles closes his mouth and glares, as Peter smiles at him, and then sniffs at
his neck.
He’s shorter than Stiles.
It’s a ridiculous thought, and he isn’t even trying to understand why that
sounds so ridiculous to him – a lot of people are shorter than him, he is
reasonably tall. Derek is taller than him by very little.
Peter, the man terrorizing his every waking hour ever since he became a
werewolf, is shorter than him, and is now sniffing at him.
He’s probably going into shock, because he almost starts laughing.
“He hasn’t claimed you yet,” Peter says from where he has his nose buried in
Stiles’ neck, and Stiles snorts, taking a step back and facing Peter.
“If you haven’t noticed, Mr. Creepy, I’m underage.”
Peter actually snorts then, and tilts his head to the side, eyeing Stiles.
“And you think that would stop any Alpha?”
“I don’t belong to any Alpha, I belong to Derek,” he answers tersely, and Peter
snorts, taking a step back, and just watching him for a few seconds.
He could probably take him down. He could kill Peter, if he puts strength
enough in his attack. He can do it.
His eyes flash gray briefly, and Peter smiles at him.
“I was just waiting for that to happen, you’re getting slow, Stiles,” he
comments with a small smile, “You are not going to kill me.”
His smile is infuriating, and Stiles is pretty sure that, yes, he can and will
kill him.
“You know why? Because not even Derek could kill me. You think he couldn’t have
finished all of this that night, in your house? Didn’t you see he could have
ended me there? That you could have killed me there? And you didn’t. Do you
know why? Because my nephew can’t bear to kill me twice. He’s not as hard as he
liked to imagine he is, you and I both know that.” He takes a step closer to
Stiles again, and the boy refuses to get backed up again. He doesn’t move, and
Peter snorts a half laugh, “And you won’t kill me, because for the rest of your
lives he’ll know you killed someone he can’t. And he will be miserable, because
he failed his mate, and you will be guilty, because you killed the last living
member of his family. And you both will be unhappy, and sad and miserable, and
your dear pack will be over before it even began properly. So stop pretending
you know what you are doing, flashing your eyes at me, dear, because we are
simply going to wait here for your knight in shining armor, and then I will rip
his throat out, and claim you after that.”
Stiles is stunned into silence because… well, because the damn werewolf makes
sense. He’s never wanted to be a werewolf, because he knew it involved lots of
violence and at some point or another, he’d have to kill something and he
doesn’t want to do that.
He doesn’t want to kill anything, and as a human, he had that option. As a
wolf, not  so much.
They stare at each other, Stiles seriously considering just attacking him, and
Peter smiling away, because he knows Stiles won’t.
“I want to see my dad,” he ends up saying, because he can’t stay still, and
glaring isn’t really effective, even if he wishes it was.
Peter tilts his head to the side.
“I don’t see why not” he answers, smiling still, and Peter turns his back on
him. Seriously, he just turns around, and goes to one of the rooms off to the
right of the main corridor, opening the door carefully, and gesturing Stiles
inside. Stiles stares at him blankly for a few seconds, because, come on, it’s
disconcerting. He can’t even judge if this man is completely insane, or if he’s
insanely clever, and his plan is really just that good, “Come on, darling,
daddy is waiting.”
Stiles walks to Peter slowly, and passes by him, into the room.
His dad is in the bed, asleep, just like Peter promised.
And with its claws around his dad’s neck, is Jackson, Kanima form full out.
“Oh, yes. I might have forgotten to mention our little lizard friend. So, see,
you’re not going to kill me, or attack me, because if you do, your dad is dead
meat, honey.”
Stiles has to bite his own lips not to say something completely ridiculous,
like ‘you will pay for this’, or ‘you won’t get away with it’, because he wants
to, he really, really wants to.
He can’t.
Peter walks to him and Stiles’ breath catches in his throat when he feels the
man’s body leaning onto his. His arms come around his waist, as if they were a
couple watching someone they care about sleep.
“Get away from me,” Stiles hisses and Jackson hisses back, the venom in his
claws glistening.
“No. My scent on you will drive Derek crazy. He will make mistakes, because he
is stupid. He is really good for menial labor, but as a strategist, as an
Alpha?” Peter snorts at that, his hands tightening their hold on Stiles, “He
would have been lucky to find you if I hadn’t found you first.” He goes quiet
for a moment after that, and Stiles wants to throw him away, he can feel his
claws coming out, and he knows his eyes are changing, “You were in my plan.
After I finished off all the Argents, I was going to turn you. Seduce you. I
would even ask, darling, ask you again, because I knew you were lying the first
time.”
“I would have said no,” was his answer, deep and rough. He needs to calm down,
but his wolf is reeling at the thought of that man’s hands on him.
Peter snorts and doesn’t answer him.
“He was never meant to be Alpha. He could have submitted to me, passed me the
power if it weren’t for you, and the way you ended up being his. I would have
taken my time in getting back in his good graces, getting his trust back, and
then he would have let this ridiculous pack go. He doesn’t want the power. He’s
not ready to have it.” Stiles doesn’t even answer to that, because he knows
it’s the truth, “But then you came along. And now he’ll never give anything up,
and I had to resort to this ridiculous villain plan, with kidnapping single
parents, and threatening the mate.”
“It’s your own fault” Stiles replies, “You shouldn’t have bitten me.”
“Not my brightest moment, but then again, I had been just resurrected, and the
first thing I see when I come back from the dead is an Argent controlling a
Kanima. I freaked out, so sue me.”
Stiles can almost hear the smile at the man’s words - Peter is completely
fucked up. He closes his eyes, trying to even out his breathing, trying to calm
down, before he changes and ends up getting his dad killed. Peter pulls him
closer to his body, and Stiles has to rein in a growl. He can feel the man
shaking with suppressed laughter, and that makes him even madder – he wants to
rip his throat out, he wants to tear him apart, disembowel him, and rip him to
pieces…
“Maybe I should bite your dad too.”
And that’s when Stiles loses it.
                                       X
Lydia has always been a bitch.
It’s not something she has actually tried to be, she didn’t wake up one morning
and thought ‘I’m going to despise everyone’, she just… was.
She reacted badly to a lot of things while she was growing up – like her
parents’ divorce, for instance, and she didn’t know how to act after that. They
didn’t help matters either, and she had to learn to deal with stuff on her own.
And the best way she found to deal with feeling like she had been abandoned was
to actually never let anyone close enough to be abandoned again.
It worked until the day she had met Jackson and helplessly fallen in love. Yes,
she acted like the only thing that mattered to her was the fact that he was
popular and handsome, but what really called to her was the way he seemed to
need someone, always, as if he couldn’t quite find his place in the world.
He had a lot of issues, and she worked her damn best to make him feel better
about himself. She didn’t mind playing her part, as long as she could have him
– and then everything fell apart. All her life, every single lie she had built
around herself, all shattered and torn and ripped from her. Peter had done way
more than simply use her, he had gone into her deepest and most shameful
places, and made her face it all. And now he was controlling Jackson through
her, and that was not right. He had gotten inside her head, and she had been
terrified of him, but not anymore.
Men always underestimated women like her. She was pretty and cute and a bitch,
and therefore, very few people thought she could actually be better than that –
and she could.
She could be anything she wanted.
So she followed Peter’s orders, because she couldn’t do anything else. When she
touched Jackson’s transformed, scaly hand on Peter’s orders, when she ordered
him to stay quiet, and go to school; follow Peter’s commands, she had done it
all – and she had planned.
Because the game was bigger than Peter was letting on, there was a point to all
he was doing, there had to be. And she could bide her time, waiting for an
opportunity – and it had come, in the shape of Stiles Stilinski, in the middle
of the mess, again, and this time without Scott. It was all about him, and she
didn’t even care – she just wanted out.
She wanted out, and she wanted revenge.
So, when she left Stiles in front of that creepy house, she acted as if that
was it. She thought she was free.
And then, when she was three blocks away, she took Jackson’s phone out of her
bag, and called Derek Hale.
She couldn’t take Peter out again, but she could make sure another werewolf
would.
                                       X
For all that Stiles is expecting it to be like being ripped apart, changing
doesn’t really hurt – it burns.
It burns from the inside out, in fury, and rage, and hatred. It burns in the
worst way possible, because it isn’t physical, it is inside him, like an animal
waking up trapped, and seeing it can’t escape its cage, and it needs out, but
it can’t.
His wolf is savage, and hurt, and angry, and he wants to rip everything out. He
roars, throwing Peter away from him and the Kanima hisses, its claws ready to
rip his father’s throat out, when a shout comes from the door.
“Jackson, stop!”
Jackson and Stiles turn as one, and see Lydia Martin standing there, her eyes
full of fear, but also strong determination.
“That, my dear, was a mistake,” says Peter from where he is getting up, and
advancing towards Lydia. Stiles roars again, wanting to hurt something,
anything, and starts advancing to Peter and Lydia when another roar answers
his.
“I don’t think it was,” answers a rough voice, and Stiles looks up, seeing
Derek – his face changing fast to a werewolf, roaring as an Alpha, and Peter
unconsciously takes a step back.
He is trapped, and he knows it. He looks ready to attack Lydia, when Stiles
sees her eyes meeting Jackson’s, and, with a loud hiss, the Kanima jumps out of
the bed. As if that was the signal they were all waiting for, Stiles and Derek
jump too, all three of them attacking Peter at the same time.
The half-wolfed out man screams, trying to fight it, but it’s a losing battle –
or, actually, no battle at all. He screams empty threats while he can, and
howls out in pain when he can’t anymore. They are savage, and that man, that
wolf, is the reason their pack is being threatened.
They need to defend their pack.
Derek has a hold on Peter’s head, and Jackson is holding him by the waist,
claws digging into his skin, and Stiles pulls at him, clawing him.
They tear him in half, his last shout dying at his throat, and Stiles feels as
if he can breathe again.
No threat. They are free.
His grey eyes meet Derek’s red ones, and the wolf reaches out a clawed hand
towards him. He doesn’t even notice the way his wolf fades away, and how he is
just Stiles again – he throws himself in Derek’s arms, and feels safe and at
peace, feeling his mate’s chest under him, his breathing on his neck.
“I…” he tries to say, but nothing really comes out.
“Shh,” Derek answers, soothing him, holding him tight, “It’s over,” he
reassures Stiles, and Stiles can only nod, letting out a shuddering breath.
“Jackson?” They hear Lydia say, and Stiles turns his head a little, not willing
to step out of Derek’s arms, but worried about the other two.
Jackson is on the floor – Jackson, not the Kanima. He is breathing – if he
focuses enough, Stiles can actually hear his heartbeat, but his eyes are
closed.
He looks peaceful. Lydia kneels beside her boyfriend, and touches his forehead
tentatively, looking wary while doing so – and within reason, because the
second she rest her whole hand on his neck, Jackson sits up, gasping for air,
and roaring the next second. Lydia falls back, startled, and they all watch as
Jackson roars, his eyes an electric blue, just like Derek’s before he was an
Alpha.
Stiles doesn’t really feel his change, but he knows he is at that strange
stage, when they are half wolf, half human by the horrified look on Lydia’s
face.
Derek roars first, and Stiles answers, and Jackson looks at them both, as if
measuring a threat. He crouches before Lydia, clearly intent on defending her,
and Derek roars again – not a threat: an invite.
Jackson stares at them, and then looks back at Lydia, who tries to smile
encouragingly. She clearly has no idea what is really going on, but she’ll
support Jackson in anything.
He finally got that.
Jackson kneels, and bares his neck for Derek. The Alpha roars again, in
approval, and accepts his submission, nudging Stiles forward to do the same.
They accept Jackson into their pack, and now they have him – and Lydia, by
extension.
Their wolves recede at the same time, and they are left human, in a house they
have no idea how Peter had it, and Stiles’ father is still unconscious.
Not to mention the body torn to bits by their side.
“We need to clean this up,” says Lydia, in a practical tone of voice, and
Jackson is the first one to laugh, hugging her to him, not caring that he’s
staining her clothes with blood.
They are safe.
As long as they aren’t caught in this house by the police.
                                       X
What they end up doing is taking a page out of Kate Argent’s book, and burning
the house down.
“What?” Lydia asks, when the three men look at her when she suggests it, “It’s
the only way to cover everything up. Also, the Police will be more focused on
finding out what happened to the Sheriff, they won’t even look into an
uninhabited house catching fire, the nearest neighbor is far enough that they
won’t even notice. Short circuits and bad wiring, it happens all the time.”
Best not to argue.
They take the Sheriff to Lydia’s car, and find the gas pipes. A few minor
breaks, a small spark, and the place is catching fire nicely, Peter’s pieces
inside. Despite all the roars and the fight, none of the neighbors even notice
anything is wrong until the fire is coming out of the house windows. They
watch, from a corner, as the Fire Department is called, and then they leave –
Lydia and Jackson in the front, Derek and Stiles in the back seat, the Sheriff
between them. They decide to just take the man to the hospital and say he
showed up like this at Derek’s old place.
They simply don’t have any imagination to deal with making up a convincing
story right now. Besides, the Sheriff will just say he doesn’t remember
anything, anyway, because, well, werewolves.
Melissa is the nurse responsible for his room, and that makes Stiles a bit
calmer.
His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he knows he’s on the verge of a major
breakdown. He can just feel it. Now that the adrenaline is starting to fade
away, he can actually realize what they’ve done.
Murder and arson are just two of their crimes today.
Jesus Christ.
“I can’t stay here,” he whispers at Derek pleadingly – he’s afraid he’ll shift
in front of everyone. Derek looks at Melissa McCall and she nods at him,
understanding. Scott must have told her Stiles is one of them now.
“I’ll call as soon as he wakes up. Go home and rest, honey.” She smiles at
Stiles, and Derek guides him out of the hospital. Lydia offers to drive them
home, and they accept it, knowing they will have a lot to explain to the girl
as soon as they are all not half crazed. Jackson is actually asleep on her
passenger seat, and Stiles has to close his eyes to avoid getting angry when he
thinks how long Peter must have forced Jackson to stand watch over his father
without sleeping.
“He’s gone,” Derek whispers in his ears, and Stiles trembles a bit before
nodding, and setting his head on Derek’s shoulder.
He feels as if he’s falling apart.
The ride is at the same time too short and too long for Stiles’ taste. He wants
to be home, and yet he never wants to get there, because he knows he’ll
actually be able to deal with everything when he’s alone with Derek, but he
doesn’t know if he wants that.
Lydia stops the car and she looks ready to say something, but Derek simply
stares at her sternly for a second and opens the door, pulling Stiles with him.
Stiles is immensely grateful. They will deal with it. With Lydia, and the rest
of the pack, and his dad and Jackson and everything – but not today.
Not now.
He can’t.
He breathes in and out, slowly, trying to calm down his racing heart when they
are finally alone. Derek takes him by the hand and leads him to his room, and
Stiles lets him.
He doesn’t want to fight. He doesn’t want to be strong right now – he wants to…
he doesn’t even know.
Derek is staring at him, and Stiles knows it’s because he’s silent, so very
silent and so very still. He takes a step forward, and wraps his arms around
Derek’s neck, his mate’s arms coming up slowly to encircle his waist, and they
stay like that for a few minutes, simply breathing each other in, reassuring
their human parts that they are safe.
Their wolves know, because their wolves had ripped Peter apart together.
Bonding over ripped to pieces uncles. That’s the way to bond as a couple.
Stiles starts laughing, and he can’t really stop – he laughs in relief, because
his dad is okay, and he laughs in despair, because he killed someone today. He
laughs in confusion, because just a few days ago he was head over heels for
Lydia, and today he couldn’t even think of her, all he saw in that house was
Derek.
It seemed to him that Derek was the only constant now, the only one he could
count on to defend him, and protect him, and keep him safe. It was his job now
to keep their pack together, to keep his father and Melissa safe and healthy,
but he felt as if… as if he could do it if Derek was there, with him.
If Derek claimed him, now and forever.
His laughter dies down, and he notices he’s actually crying. Major way to have
a breakdown, but Derek hasn’t left. He hasn’t said anything, hasn’t moved,
except to hold Stiles closer to him, burying his nose on his neck, running his
hands over his back.
“He knew you hadn’t claimed me yet” he whispers softly, his voice quiet. Derek
hums, but doesn’t say anything, and Stiles presses on, “Why haven’t you,
Derek?”
He pulls away a little, to stare at the man, and he sees pain crossing his face
– despair and fear, and pain and rejection.
He doesn’t want to claim Stiles because it’s a good thing for him. He doesn’t
want to be happy.
“Please” he whispers again, a few tears falling from his eyes, because he needs
this, he needs to know this will last, this will be it, this will work. He
can’t go around in this tentative kind of thing, in this ‘you are my mate but
not really’, he can’t take it.
Derek closes his eyes, and his jaw looks like it’s about to break it’s so
tight.
“You don’t understand how much that would change everything. You don’t
understand what it entails” he answers, his eyes still closed.
Stiles’ hands make their way from Derek’s neck to his shoulders, caressing his
skin over his blood stained shirt, and he takes Derek’s face into his hands,
forcing the man to look at him.
“Does it entail me being with you forever, with no way out?” His eyes search
Derek’s, and the man just nods, staring back, unflinching, “Does it entail
doing my best for my pack?” Derek nods again, and Stiles comes closer, barely a
breath keeping them apart, “Does it entail me being you mate for real, never
being able to leave you?” His voice is even quieter now, and Derek takes a few
seconds before nodding again, and Stiles presses his lips to Derek’s, “Claim
me” he demands against his lips, and Derek growls in response, before pulling
Stiles tight against him, dominating the kiss, and Stiles allows him to – he
doesn’t want to control anything tonight, he wants to be marked, he wants to
belong.
He wants to know he’ll always have a place to call home: by Derek’s side, with
their pack.
He pulls on Derek’s shirt, and the man takes a step back, taking his shirt off
and opening his jeans, throwing his shoes to the side to step out of them. He
then slips out of his underwear, coming towards Stiles once more – there’s no
time for gentle caresses and sweet nothings – they want this so much it hurts.
Derek helps him out of his shirt and jeans, making him fall against his bed so
that he can take off his shoes, and then his boxers. His eyes are a strange
shimmering red, not quite Alpha, but not really human anymore.
It’s desperate and fast, the way their clothes lie on the ground, the way Derek
climbs over him in the bed and claims his lips again, kissing him deeply,
biting on his neck; and Stiles bites him back, pulling on his hair, until Derek
lets go of his neck and kisses him again.
Derek settles between his legs suddenly, spreading them apart, and Stiles feels
the actual shift in the way things are now – Derek seems to have lost his
urgency, he is still desperate, but he’s holding it all in, because this is
happening. This is going to be true.
They will be together for as long as their pack existed, and there was no space
for haste in this.
Derek kisses him deeply for a few moments, and then pulls away, staring at
Stiles as if trying to memorize his every feature, as if instead of getting
closer this will actually erase Stiles from his memory.
“There’s no turning back after this” he warns, his voice rough with need, and
want, and fear, and denial; but Stiles reaches for him, bringing his face
closer to his again, and kisses his lips tenderly, biting his lower lip before
letting him go.
“Claim me” he demands again, and Derek’s eyes sparkle red. He pushes himself up
and sniffs at the air, before smirking, and opening a drawer in a bedside
table, taking a packet of lube out of it, and Stiles actually blushes. Derek
kisses him on the cheeks, and bites his neck, distracting him enough that he
only realizes Derek is preparing him when he feels a strange intrusion in his
body – it stings, not really hurting, but feeling somewhat unnatural.
Stiles is lost after that, between Derek’s kisses, and the heat of his body,
and the way that everything around them seems to revolve around Derek: he is
his only focus, he is everything that exists, over him, and inside him.
Derek takes his time preparing him, making him moan, teasing him, and then
taking it all away to reassure himself he isn’t hurting Stiles, but Stiles
doesn’t care – he wants this, and he says so loudly, and repeatedly, until
Derek finally caves, taking his fingers out from where he was preparing Stiles,
and rearranges them in the bed, Stiles legs bending up, Derek caressing his
neck with a clawless hand, his eyes sparkling red and hazel and bluish green
but never leaving Stiles’.
When he feels Derek entering him, he tries to close his eyes, but Derek
whimpers at it, and he opens them again – his mate needs to know he is okay
with this, and Stiles tried to stop his own whimper at the pain.
It hurtslike hell, but he doesn’t care.
He’ll never care, because Derek will be his forever, and he will never, ever,
be alone again.
None of them will.
He moves tentatively once, and Derek moans quietly – staring at each other,
never hiding their reactions. Derek moves against him, and Stiles has trouble
breathing. It hurts, but he wants this so much.
And them Derek is touching him, taking him into his hands slowly, and Stiles
can’t hold in his own moan, groaning, and calling Derek’s name – pain and
pleasure mixing up into one, and he’s a shivering mess while Derek moves over
him, faster and faster, and Stiles can smell blood, but he doesn’t care, not
now.
Derek’s breathing becomes more erratic and he bends forward, kissing Stiles on
the lips once, and running his lips over his skin, until he finds his neck.
He bites him, hard enough to draw blood, and leave a scar, and Stiles closes
his eyes, because this is it – he’s claimed.
He is Derek’s.
His hands find Derek’s hair, and he pulls the Alpha to him, licking his own
blood from Derek’s mouth, not caring about anything else but the thought that
Derek is his. And that’s what sends him over the edge, shuddering, and calling
out Derek’s name, while the man keeps moving over him, riding out his own
orgasm, and they collapse on the bed, against each other.
They are dirty, and bleeding, and the room smells like sweat and heat and blood
and semen.
And they don’t care.
At that precise moment, it doesn’t seem like anything else will ever matter
again but the two of them.
Stiles is strangely content with that thought.
They are silent, getting their breath back. Derek moves around, lying on his
back, and pulling Stiles over him, caressing his neck and his back, and Stiles
kisses his chest and his hands, when he can reach them. Their eyes are closed,
and at that moment, everything seems to be fine, right.
It’s like they are finally where they had always supposed to be.
They don’t know how long they are like that, but there’s a phone ringing, and
Derek answers with a growl.
Stiles hears Erica’s voice telling their Alpha that the Sheriff has been moved
to a room, and is expected to wake up at any second.
Derek hangs up after that and they look at each other, and they know.
Nothing will ever be the same again, and that’s a good thing.
A great thing.
It’s actually perfect.
Chapter End Notes
     Tada!
     EPILOGUE will be up tomorrow – and I MEAN tomorrow, because it’s
     ready. Hahahaha
     REVIEW!
***** Something Becomes Everything *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
                                  Pale Horses
                       Something That Became Everything
Stiles is surprised when, by the end of his shower, he is already healing.
Derek smiles at him and says that Stiles is his. Even if he is an Alpha, his
bites will never linger on Stiles.
Stiles leaves the bathroom feeling really smug about that.
They get to the hospital just as John is waking up, and Stiles can’t help but
tearing up again. He hugs John to him carefully, and his dad hugs him back – he
isn’t hurt, he’s okay, just a bit disoriented from all the medicine keeping him
unconscious.
He says he doesn’t remember anything, he remembers he was taken from his house
while sleeping, and that’s that, because he is the goddamn Sheriff, and his
word is actually the law.
Things settle down after that.
Stiles still has to go to school, and Derek actually insists on taking him
there and picking him up for weeks before he is comfortable enough to let
Stiles drive there. Stiles gets annoyed at this, he complains and bitches, but
he secretly loves every second of it, but he never tells anyone or they’ll
never let him live it down.
Jackson finds his place in their pack, with Lydia by his side, even if takes a
couple of weeks for Derek to be completely okay with her. Scott settles too,
and he seems calmer than before, more adjusted. He has a real pack now, he’ll
be fine.
Time passes and they grow. In the teens’ case, literally. Boyd is taller than
Derek now, and Stiles is even with his mate. Erica loses her extreme ways and
seems really comfortable in her body, and so does Isaac.
She and Boyd start dating just before graduation, and everyone can tell it’s a
forever kind of thing – like their Alpha and his Mate.
Allison actually starts talking to Scott again by the end of the year. They
take things slow this time, the truce with the Argents holding even when they
officially become a couple again – this time with less idealistic puppy love,
and a more practical take on life. She never really gets comfortable around
Derek – or any of the wolves, really -, and he confesses to Stiles one night
that he doesn’t think she and Scott will last once they get into college.
They find out in two years that he is right.
Isaac grows into a confident and responsible man, and he studies hard, decided
to become a doctor – which he does, with full rides and all into college.
Lydia and Jackson are the first two to get officially married, just a month
after graduating from Law School – together. They have the most successful Law
Firm in Beacon Hills, and are perfectly content with each other.
The Hale House actually meets a fiery end in the summer after Peter’s death, a
small problem with a pack of Alphas, that are absolutely no match for their
pack – because they are seven wolves and a human: five betas, an Alpha, a Mate,
and the most terrifying teenage girl a small town could produce.
The house doesn’t survive though, and Derek takes that as a sign that the past
should be, at last, left behind.
Their new house is bright and airy, and far enough from the original one that
they can’t even see the burned ground it used to stand on.
The sheriff has a few choice words to say to Stiles when he comes home with
decorating plans for his house with Derek, but he’s come to accept that his son
would never have a normal life.
From all the teens, Stiles is the only one who doesn’t even leave Beacon Hills
for college. He attends a small one in a nearby city, commuting every day,
because he can’t bear staying away from Derek, or his father. Scott goes there
too, but he actually gets a dorm.
Melissa and John start dating that year, and Stiles swears he knew that was
bound to happen sometime.
The new Hale House is built, and Stiles moves in as soon as he’s eighteen.
Derek takes night classes and online courses to learn how to manage what’s left
of the Hale money – their insurance and their properties that he hadn’t sold
before he actually realized he could have a future.
Stiles becomes a Journalist – he writes for Beacon Hills biggest paper, and
he’s happy to report the number of weird news has never been lower. Scott is a
Veterinarian, helping Deaton, and eventually taking over the business when the
man retires.
Scott meets a nice girl, with dark hair and bright brown eyes, and he falls for
her, one year after graduating from college. It’s not teen love, it doesn’t
have the intensity of his feelings for Allison, but he loves her.
They haven’t yet talked about marriage, but Stiles is keeping his hopes up.
Isaac actually meets a nice and cute werewolf at Stiles and Derek’s Union
Celebration. Derek was against it, but Stiles was adamant that his father would
see him getting married, and Derek caves, as he seems to do with everything
that has Stiles in it.  
The ceremony is quiet and beautiful, and Derek invites a few friends from his
old life, before Laura had died – including a cute Omega who captures Isaac’s
heart on his first smile. It’s enough to say he wasn’t an Omega for much longer
after that, accepted into the Hale Pack that just keeps on growing.
Eight years after the whole Peter debacle, Derek is called away by a few other
werewolves, and he comes back home with a small bundle in his arms – some Alpha
bit a kid, four years old, and left it behind.
Stiles thinks he’s too young, and his father agrees. Derek thinks they really
aren’t ready for it, and Melissa concurs – but they do it anyway.
They adopt little John Stilinski-Hale, who insists on being called Sky, and
that’s how they build a family.
A pack.
Safety and security, love and acceptance.
It’s not perfect, and they have their issues – the days when Lydia is a bitch,
and Jackson is a jerk, and Scott gets that faraway look in his eyes like he’s
thinking about Allison again, and Isaac takes something the wrong way and
sulks, and Boyd gets angry at some imaginary offense, and Erica is a bit too
rough with someone. Days when Stiles wants to scream at the top of his lungs
that he is their age and the only kid he has is Sky not all of them, and days
when Derek is quiet and brooding.
It’s not perfect.
But none of them would change a thing.
Fin.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, this is it.
     It’s over.
     I always feel so sad when these things get done, I can’t even.
     I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I had fun writing it –
     and it was a lot.
     Thank you so much for your amazing support along this story. You are
     all amazing.
     Now, I’m gonna work on Come Out and Play and the other few dozen
     plots who grabbed me these past few weeks.
     Let me know what you think about the end.
     REVIEW!
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