
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/617265.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV), Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Castiel/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Castiel,
      Scott_McCall, Isaac_Lahey, Erica_Reyes, Vernon_Boyd, Danny_Mahealani,
      Lydia_Martin, Jackson_Whittemore, Allison_Argent, Meg_Masters, Crowley_
      (Supernatural), Bobby_Singer, Garth_Fitzgerald_IV, Gabriel_(Supernatural)
  Additional Tags:
      Hunter!Stiles, Crossover, Demons, Angels, Possession, idek, WIP
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-12-31 Updated: 2013-07-15 Chapters: 9/? Words: 23626
****** Rebel Love Song ******
by sourwulfur
Summary
     Stiles Stilinski, the nephew of Sam and Dean Winchester, is back in
     Beacon Hills for the first time in over ten years. He meets Derek
     Hale; everything wants them apart. Demons and angels will find their
     way to Beacon Hills, and nothing will be the same.
Notes
     So, this is originally posted over on FF.net, but I thought I'd add
     it here. It's a WIP right now, but I'm having fun with mixing
     together my two favorite fandoms.
***** One *****
Beacon Hills was abuzz. There was a new family moving in. Well, new was fairly
relative seeing as one of the members of the family was actually born in Beacon
Hills and moved away when he was about five years old. Stiles Stilinski was
back in Beacon Hills, not because he wanted to be; but, because it was his
father's last wish. The man had hoped for his son to return home after his
passing. So, the sixteen (almost seventeen, he stressed) year old moved back to
town with his new guardians; his uncles, Sam and Dean Winchester. Stiles was
not sure what he thought about being back home. He only had vague memories of
the place, and none of them were good. The teen frowned faintly as he was
dropped off at the school so that he could finish up his registration before
classes.
He tried to ignore the stares he got as he went, though one particular group
made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. There was a tall, sporty
looking guy with his arm draped over a slightly shorter guy's shoulders (whom
Stiles heard was named Issac), another boy with curly hair practically glued to
a pretty brunette girl's side (and she looked vaguely familiar), and a teen
that was either Hawaiian or had family that was that was showing a redhead
something in a magazine (or he had before before they spotted Stiles). Really,
was it that odd to get a new student in Beacon Hills? Of course, Stiles
mentally snorted at that thought. Of course it was. The town was like a speck
on the map. It was the town they usually passed through; but, it had been his
dad's wish. Damn it.
"D'you know who that is?" Stiles heard someone ask as he walked into the
office, closing the door behind him to muffle the conversations that followed
him. He really hated being the new kid. It was his junior year of high school.
He should have been used to it by then; but, he wasn't. "Uhm, I'm here to sign
some papers and get my schedule."
"Ah, yes, you must be Stiles," the school principal, Mr. Hogg. He smirked a
little, gesturing for the teen to go into the other room of the office. "You
don't mind that I call you 'Stiles', right? Your file did say that was what you
preferred to be called."
Stiles shrugged a little, dropping down in one of the chairs. "That's fine."
"Good. Now, let's get started, and we can get you on your way."
 
===============================================================================
 
"Everyone, this is our newest student, Stiles..." the teacher said, her brow
lifting a little as she read the note. Then, the chemistry teacher smiled up at
him and said, "Well, Stiles, why don't you introduce yourself to the class?"
The brown-eyed boy glanced around the room a little, spotting the odd students
from the hall earlier among the different, unknown faces. Well, he vaguely
recognized a few of them, probably from pre-school. "Ah, well, I'm Stiles
Stilinski," there was a murmur of recognition at his last name and he shrugged
a little. "Used to live here, moved away for a bit, now 'm back. There's not
much to tell, really." Stiles shrugged again and went to the empty seat in the
classroom, not missing one of the murmurs about the story in the newspaper
talking about his father's death. Small towns. Got to love them. Not.
Stiles sank down in his seat with a heavy sigh as the teacher started to talk
about covalent bonds. It was going to be a long day.
He was correct in that assumption, and by the time the day was done, Stiles
just wanted to go home and sleep forever. Okay, so forever was a bit much, but
sleep was a good idea. Maybe he could get a nap in before he had to finish
helping unloading all the boxes. He absently toyed with his phone, sliding his
thumb over the touch screen as he walked outside the school building, hoping
that his uncle's Impala would be waiting, but it wasn't. Or, maybe it was.
Stiles' brow lifted when he spotted it all the way across the parking lot, next
to a black Camaro that he could see Dean checking out. The car's owner did not
seem very pleased and was trying to keep calm. It seemed the curly haired kid
from before (Scott McCall, Stiles believed) grabbing Mr. AngryFace's shoulder
was the only thing keeping him from hitting Dean. Stiles sighed, rolled his
eyes, and walked over to his uncle, grabbing the man's arm before tugging him
away from the Camaro. "We've talked about this," Stiles said, leading Dean
toward the Impala. "No commandeering other peoples' cars."
Stiles ignored Dean's protests and shoved the man into the driver's seat before
starting around the car to climb into the passenger. He paused only for a
moment as he glanced over to Scott and AngryFace, who did not seem so angry
anymore. He actually was rather attractive and Stiles smiled faintly at him
before climbing into the Impala. "Let's get out of here."
The drive to the house they had bought, located on the edge of town (far enough
away that they could practice without alarming anyone, but close enough that if
they needed to walk to the store for something, they could), was filled with
silence between the family members and Bohemian Rhapsodyon the radio. Stiles
tapped his fingers on his leg in time with the music, lip synching the entire
way while Dean had a faint smirk on his lips as he drove. "Oh, c'mon, Stiles,
it was a killer car," Dean said. "And the guy was just fine with me helping
with the flat."
"That's not an invitation to pop the hood, and you know it," Stiles replied
with a roll of his eyes.
"So, change of subject. Apparently, there's been some really strange animal
attacks in the area."
Stiles groaned and hit his head on the headrest as he lifted a hand to pinch
the bridge of his nose. "No." He did not even have to look at Dean to look at
the appalled look on his uncle's face. "No. No researching, no looking, no case
work, no hunting. You promised."
The elder of the two sighed as he turned into the driveway to their new place.
"We can't just ignore blatant signs of-"
"You can and you will. Can't I just have a normal year and a half of high
school before we fall into that shit again? I mean, the world is not going to
end just because we take a sabbatical. There will still be things that go bump
in the night after I graduate."
"Just one?"
"No."
"Please?"
Stiles groaned and got out of the car after Dean turned it off. "No. I thought
you were supposed to be the adult here."
The two of them made their way into the two-story farmhouse that the three
family members, and the elder two's friend, Castiel, had bought. Cas and Dean
shared a two bed, large bedroom while Sam and Stiles each had rooms of their
own. It was a big place with three bathrooms, a living room, a huge kitchen and
dining area, a utility room, and a wrap-around porch. There were many acres
around the place, perfect for target practice; and, it was close to a magical
hot spot, which Stiles planned on helping him learn a bit more. No hunting for
the next two years; but, that did not mean they could not practice and learn.
"What if a vampire shows up on the porch? What're we supposed to do then? Sit
back and give it blood bags?" Dean questioned, ignoring Sam's questioning about
what's going on.
"You're ridiculous," Stiles muttered to himself, shaking his head as he went up
to the room that would be his. He had a bed and a desk set up, and many boxes
littering the room. He had one poster tacked up onto his wall, but other than
that, it was still bare. "I'm going for a run!"
 
===============================================================================
 
Stiles breathed heavily as he ran, listening to some good music to get his
energy going. He exhaled with each step, keeping his eyes darting from the
overgrown path he was following to straight ahead of him so that he would not
trip on anything. He had ran two miles, and he slowly came to a stop, breathing
heavily as he took his earphones out, doubling over slightly while focusing on
breathing. He reached into the small sports bag he had on his back to grab the
water bottle he had there and took a drink with a glance to his right after
seeing something out of the corner of his eye. The teen turned to fully look
when he realize it was AngryFace from before.
The man seemed to be studying him with interest. Stiles could easily tell that
the man was tense, even from that distance. "What're you doing out here?" the
guy asked, his voice having a sharp edge to it.
Even his voice was hot. Okay, maybe it had been too long since Stiles had found
someone attractive. He had spent most of his time with his uncles lately.
Stiles jerked his thumb back the way he came. "Running," was his breathless
answer.
"This is private property."
"Oh, sorry..." Stiles shrugged a little. There were no signs posted anywhere.
How was he to know? "Should post a sign or somethin'." He took another drink
out of his water bottle and the other man turned to leave, only to stop when
the brown-eyed teen called out, "I'm Stiles."
The other man turned to look at the boy once again, studying Stiles for a
moment before saying, "Derek."
Stiles watched as the man, Derek, turned to leave once again, and actually did
so that time. The teen just stood there for a moment longer before smiling and
starting to run back for home, careful of any branches or underbrush that might
try to pick him up. Maybe transferring to the sleepy town of Beacon Hills would
not be as bad as he had thought.
***** Two *****
Chapter Summary
     A chance meeting, a conversation, a date... Stiles is going to hell.
Chapter Notes
     Thanks for the follows and favorites on the first chapter. I'm glad
     you like it. I'm having a lot of fun. Enjoy the new chapter. For your
     reference, this one takes place a few weeks after the first chapter.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Stiles paused, closing his eyes as he panted softly. It was hot in his red
hoodie from the sun and running around. He smirked, fingers itching to pull the
trigger beneath them, and he quickly spun around, lifting the gun to shoot Dean
in the middle of his chest with the stream of water. "I win," stile said, smug
as he lowered the plastic toy weapon. "You breathe too hard, Uncle Dean."
"Shut up," grumbled the elder man, wiping off his face before waving a hand
dismissively. "Don't you have homework?"
"It's Friday," Stiles answered simply, shrugging a little as he stretched his
sore muscles. He bent over to grab his ankles and stretch a bit, the hood of
his red jacket falling over his head.
"Should go to a party or something, then."
Stiles simply raised a brow. He still did not really know anyone in town. They
were not exactly the most accepting bunch. Then again, it was not every day
someone came in and stole the valedictorian position from the most popular girl
at school after only a few weeks. It wasn't like he did it on purpose.
Stiles did end up going into town to get pizza for them (Sam paid), and after
eating, he went on another run. He was aching from all the practice he had been
getting in since he had nothing else to do; but, it wouldn't really pass if he
didn't keep going. He slowed to a stop when he heard a distant but loud (thank
you, trees for creating an echo) voices somewhere nearby. "You met the new kid,
yet?" the first voice said. Stiles was pretty sure it was that Scott guy from
school.
"Stiles, yeah. He was on the property," replied Mr. AngryFace... Derek. His
name was Derek. In all honesty, Stiles was surprised he remembered. He was
typically terrible with remembering names.
"D'you think he knows?" There was silence that Stiles interpreted as Derek
making some kind of expression that Scott understood. "The dude speaks Latin
and there's just something off about him."
Derek sighed and said, "Shut up, Scott." Stiles was fairly sure he heard a
whine in response. "Go home. I'll take the watch alone." Stiles assumed Scott
ran off because there was no arguing, but a few moments later, Derek appeared
in the clearing next to him. "You've not mastered stealth yet, have you?" Derek
said, seeming more amused than anything. "You're lucky that Scott's oblivious
when it doesn't pertain to Allison."
"How...?" Stiles started to question, brow furrowing when Derek just grinned.
"C'mon, little hunter, surely my little band of misfits made it obvious to
you," replied Derek, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. "I would
have thought that being trained by the Winchesters you'd be faster on the
uptake than them."
Animal attacks. Jackson and Scott at lacrosse. Jackson somehow knowing someone
was hitting on Isaac from across the noisy cafeteria. Scott's anger. Stiles was
sure he saw glowing eyes at one point. "Lycanthropy," Stiles stated with an
amused laugh. He was surprised his uncles were not searching in to the whole
animal attacks thing more. Or maybe they were and were just hiding that.
Something about that thought made him want to frown, however he did not.
Instead, he just smirked a little, reaching up to scratch the side of his head
underneath the red hood still covering it. "Shouldn't you, y'know, be hiding
this from me?"
"You're not a threat." Derek smirked in response to the indignant sound Stiles
made in response. "If you and your guardians were here to hunt us, you'd have
done something by now."
"Yeah, well, they don't know," replied Stiles, "and I'd like to finish up high
school without killing someone else." Plus, Stiles was not one who believed
they should kill any and all supernatural beings simply because they were not
fully human. Most of them were still partially human, and did not hurt anyone.
From what Stiles could see, this band of lycans was not a threat to anyone. The
animal attacks had died off after the town's sheriff had found a dead wolf in
the woods.
"You're not afraid of us." It was not a question, but a statement, as he
stepped toward Stiles. Derek searched for any signs of fear as he moved
forward, but there were not any.
Stiles stood his ground, smirking a little as Derek stopped only a step away
from him. "If you were going to do something, you would have done it by now."
"Didn't anyone teach you it's not wise to taunt an alpha?"
"Didn't anyone teach you it's not wise to threaten a hunter? They may do
something rash."
Stiles' breath caught in his throat and his heart stuttered as Derek stepped
into his personal space so they were inches apart. Derek knew the falter was
not because of who he was, but more to do with the fact that Derek was all but
in his face. Being that close to someone made practically everyone falter.
"Will you?"
Stiles was completely confused. There he was in the woods, talking to an alpha
about being a werewolf and hunter as if they were discussing the weather over
tea. He knew that he should want to destroy Derek or something (Dean would want
him to), but he didn't. If anything, he wanted to know more about the mostly
quiet man with devastatingly amazing looks. He tried to force himself to say
'yes' in response to the question, but what he ended up saying was, "Let's get
food... together. Tomorrow night."
The teen knew nothing about Derek, other than his name and that he was a wolf
of there 'were' variety. He wanted to know more, and something was telling him
it was the right thing to do. What was he getting himself into?
"It's a date," Derek replied, and then he was leaving.
 
===============================================================================
 
"So, let me get this straight," Dean said with an incredulous expression
contorting his features. "You're going on a date... with a guy you barely
know?" Stiles did not answer, pulling his t-shirt (complete with a Buffy the
Vampire Slayerpicture and quote) on, and Dean turned to Sam, who was checking
his e-mails on his phone while leaning against the wall. "And you're okay with
this?"
"He's almost seventeen, Dean," replied Sam with a shrug. "At his age, you were
far from virginal, so you've no room to talk."
Dean glared at his brother, crossing his arms over his chest. "You are a
virgin, right, Stiles?"
Stiles rolled his eyes, tugging on a plaid button down shirt that went with his
t-shirt (color wise), and left it open. "Yes, and I'm not about to just give it
to some guy I just met," Stiles replied. Okay, so in Derek's case, it was a
lie. The guy was hot, and Stiles could not deny the fact that he would probably
be an easy lay for the guy, if that was what he wanted. The thought alone had
Stiles shuddering a bit with a faint smirk.
"How do you even know this guy, Stiles? Does he go to school with you?"
The teen bit back laughter at that question. How could he answer that? 'Yeah,
no, I just met him on the run in the woods'? Stiles was unsure why Dean thought
Derek was in school with him, but then, he remembered that Dean had met the guy
that first day at school. "It's not exactly a big town," Sam pointed out the
obvious, saving Stiles from answering. "Is he picking you up, or...?"
The question was halted by Cas interrupting with, "Someone's here." Stiles had
not been aware that Castiel was there, but he was so used to the guy randomly
showing up that it did not startle him anymore.
Then, there was a knock on the door. "I've got it. You guys don't have too much
fun without me," Stiles stated as he hurried downstairs to answer the door
(managing to not trip on his shoelaces on the way, really). "Hey, Derek. Let's
go."
Derek nodded, brow furrowing a little at the extremely odd feeling that came
from the house (unknowingly coming from Cas). He did not comment, though, as
they went to Derek's car. Oddly enough, the silence between them was not
awkward as Derek drove. They did not really start talking until they were
seated in a back corner of the twenty-four hour diner in town and had placed
their orders. "Why did you leave Beacon Hills?" Derek questioned, watching as
Stiles added sugar to his own coffee cup, bouncing his knee absentmindedly.
"My mother was killed by a vampire, trying to save me. Her half-brothers, Sam
and Dean, were visiting as it was. They knew what had happened, and proved to
my dad that I was not lying about what I had seen. He had thought I was nuts at
first, because, c'mon... vampires? Dad swore vengence on all supernatural
beings, and my uncles offered to train him, and me. So, Dad and I packed up and
left with them," Stiles explained, toying with his unused straw that sat on the
table. "We never stayed one place too long. A demon killed him after possessing
him for weeks. We tried to save him, but... The demon ended up getting away,
and we came here." It killed Stiles that they still did not know exactly what
the demon had wanted.
"Demons?" questioned Derek, his brows lifting as that fact was the one he
vocally latched on to. He rested a hand on Stiles' wrist, thumb absently
brushing over the teen's skin in a soothing manner. He knew what it was like to
lose family. He also knew how just because it was talked about did not mean the
person wanted comments. If it was surrounded by other things, it was best to
press past it.
Stiles nodded, using his free hand to lift his coffee cup in order to take a
drink. "Demons and angels exist. One lives with us, an angel, I mean. Castiel."
"An angel? Why?"
The teen shrugged a little with an amused grin. "I think he's got a thing for
Dean, even though he's not supposed to."
"Do they know about me...?"
"Being hairy, pointy teeth, anger issue with an affliction toward the moon, all
rawr and stuff?" Stiles continued as Derek trailed off with a soft laugh,
smiling a bit to himself as he saw the faintest of smiles tugging on the man's
lips. "Are you kidding? They'd kill you. They're more shoot first, ask later.
Cas might know, though; but, he's not said anything." Which Stiles was thankful
for. He really did not want his relationship destroyed before it even started.
Maybe it should have been more odd that he was sitting there, thinking about
thinking a relationship with a werewolf. But, really, the thought made him
smile a little. He was not sure what it was about Derek, but there was
something he was just drawn to. Stiles wondered if things were that way for his
parents.
"They can't kill me that easy," Derek said with a smirk.
Stiles smirked a little as well, sinking down in his seat slightly. "Two
Winchesters against an alpha? Hmm... I still think my money'd be on them."
Derek's eyes narrowed a bit, though there was an amused smirk on his face as
Stiles nudged his foot under the table. "Mmm... maybe, but I'd have a reason to
win, wouldn't I? Would just have to prove you wrong, if only to wipe that smirk
off your face."
The teen opened his mouth to reply (with a suggestive comment of other ways to
do just that), but closed it again as the waitress in the too-tight dress
showing too much cleavage sat their orders down in front of them. Stiles and
Derek each just looked at the plates before Derek released Stiles' wrist so
that he could switch them so that the right order was in front of the right
person. "Oh, oops," the waitress said, tucking her badly dyed hair behind an
ear. "Anything else I can get you?"
Her eyes were trained on Derek as she spoke, but Stiles was the one who
answered, "More coffee would be great, thanks."
Stiles grinned as Derek nodded in agreement, and she shot Stiles a look before
going off. "So, you know about my family. Tell me about yours," Stiles said,
adding salt and pepper to his food.
Derek seemed to contemplate it as he took a drink of his own coffee. "It's just
my uncle and I left, plus my pack. They're more family to me than he is,
though. My family died in a fire," Derek explained with a nod. It still hurt to
think about, and he missed his family greatly. However, he found that talking
to Stiles (even about things like the fire, which he never spoke about) was
easy. He did not feel judged or pitied. He just felt calm, comfortable, and
understood. That was something new.
"A hunter did it," Stiles commented softly, nodding a little. He knew the story
well. It was used as training of what not to do. While hunters were all for the
destruction of the supernatural beasts, there were humans in that fire. The
situation could have been handled better. Plus, the family that did it was
supposed to follow the same type of thought that Stiles had; if they did not
hurt anyone, then why did they need to be hunted. "I met her once. I didn't
like her." Stiles frowned a bit, toying with his food more than eating it until
Derek nudged him under the table.
"Should eat," Derek commented. "Or we'll get half way through the movie and
you'll complain about being hungry."
"Dude, it's like you know me." Both of them laughed softly and smiled as Stiles
shifted in his seat again, unable to sit still, and they fell into a
companionable silence with a few comments here and there as they ate.
 
===============================================================================
 
"No, but seriously, I can't believe so many people enjoy Twilight," Stiles
commented as he and Derek stopped on the front porch. "It's just a terrible
story."
"The best part is that the actors hate it so much," said the elder of the two
with an amused grin (faint, but still there).
Stiles nodded in agreement and put his hands into his red hoodie pockets,
smiling at Derek. "So, I actually had fun tonight."
Derek lifted an eyebrow slightly as he replied, "Don't sound so surprised." He
smirked a bit when Stiles nudged him with an elbow. "Next Friday?"
"Is that your way of asking me out again? Because if it is, you should learn to
use more words," Stiles said, pulling a hand out of his pocket absentmindedly
to start gesturing with it as he spoke. "I could interpret that as anything. I
mean, next Friday is a test in my history class, so you could be talking about
that. Or the fact that next Friday is that fall festival thing in town. Or the
fact that Friday even exists is a fa-"
Stiles would have continued rambling if Derek had let him, but he was
effectively cut off as the werewolf stepped in and kissed him. It was nothing
major. There were no fireworks like in the movies. It was simple, just Derek's
lips pressing against his own, but it felt nice; and, when Derek pulled back,
Stiles found he wanted to. "Yeah, okay, Friday," the teen said with a soft
laugh.
He was not one-hundred percent sure what was going on between himself and
wolfman, but Derek wanted to go out with him again. That in itself was a new
thing. Typically, if he actually managed one date, it never went past that.
Stiles had really had a lot of fun that evening, and despite everything, he
really enjoyed Derek's company.
Derek didn't say anything in response. He just nodded a little and gave Stiles
a faint smile before walking back to his car. Stiles stood there for a moment
before laughing softly and going inside. Once there, he leaned back against the
door, letting his head fall against it. He was going to hell, the darkest pits
of it. He was supposed to want to kill Derek, not kiss him. Yet, that was all
Stiles wanted to do. "How was the date?" Sam questioned as he came into the
hall, smirking a little at the smile on his nephew's face. "I'd say by the
smile it was good."
"Yeah," Stiles replied with a laugh, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "Went to
the movies and got some food. He wants to go out again. Think I'm going to head
to bed, though."
Sam nodded a little. "Okay, kid. Making breakfast in the morning."
Stiles nodded at the information and smiled before locking the front door and
heading upstairs to his bedroom, still filled with boxes. He sighed and
collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He lay there for a long
while, just thinking about Derek and everything else that was going on. "Yep,
'm going to hell," he mumbled to himself as he rolled over onto his side,
falling asleep in his clothes.
 
Chapter End Notes
     So, whatcha think? Any thoughts? No... okay then. *Leaves cookies for
     all*
***** Three *****
Chapter Summary
     Aftermath of the date.
Chapter Notes
     Thanks to all who have given this story a chance. :) Hope you guys
     have had a great holiday season!
Stiles' dreams that night were filled with red eyes, sounds of hunters he did
not know, Dean and Sam yelling at him, and Castiel looking at him knowingly.
When he got up the next morning, he felt pretty low sitting at the kitchen
table. He was going against everything he was ever taught, betraying his
family, all for a pretty face. Okay, so Derek was more than just a pretty face,
but still. He should not want to keep the whole thing a secret, to want to do
what he knew his family would hate. He sighed softly and hid his face in his
pillow, continuing to lay there until he heard Dean shout up the stairs that he
needed to get his "pale, scrawny ass" downstairs for breakfast.
With a roll of his eyes, Stiles got up, changing for the day before actually
heading to the kitchen. He arched a brow when he saw Castiel sitting at the
table, staring curiously at a glass of orange juice sitting on the table in
front of him. "What's with him?" the teen questioned, getting himself a glass
of milk to add some strawberry and chocolate syrup to it.
"He's trying to decide what he thinks of the juice," explained with a shrug as
they all sat at the table.
The conversation was light-hearted and typical for their meals. It made Stiles
miss Bobby, who was across the country doing something or other. Stiles was
pretty sure he was looking for Crowley, but he was not supposed to think on
things like that.Normalteenage angst for at least the next year. Then again,
there was nothing normal about having to fear your relatives killing the guy
you were dating just because he existed. Yeah, so, normal would never describe
Stiles' life.
As usual, Stiles' weekend was filled with homework, helping Dean work on the
Impala, and training. Even if they were not hunting, there was no reason to not
train. If they did not train, they would let their guard down too much; or, by
the time their skills were needed, they would be useless.
Monday morning, Stiles drove himself to school in an old jeep that his uncles
got for him so that they would not have to drive him to and from school every
day. When he got there, Stiles smirked to himself a little, seeing Derek
standing next to his Camaro as Scott and some others (Stiles thought their
names were Issac, Boyd, Erica, Lydia, and Jackson; but, he could have easily
been wrong) somehow all file out of the tiny car. Really, Stiles had no idea
how they fit in there, but did not dwell on that too much as he went over to
Derek. "S'cute," he commented with an amused smirk. "You're like the daddy to a
bunch of misfits. Maybe you should invest in a minivan."
Derek glared at Stiles, and the teen just grinned, nudging Derek with his
elbow. "S'a good look for you," Stiles continued with an amused smirk, glancing
toward the school as the bell rang. He then handed Derek a slip of paper that
the man hadn't noticed in his hand and smiled before heading into the building.
The teen did not look back, and Derek just stood there for a moment before
looking at the paper, reading an unfamiliar, hurried handwriting that said,
'Here's my number, Sourwolf. Use it.' Derek smirked a little, absentmindedly
brushing his thumb along the jagged words while glancing back up at the
building. A hunter. A part of Derek knew that he should be more wary. Stiles
was a hunter, relative to the most famous hunters ever. Stiles was different,
though. There was a trust there that the man could not quite explain, and he'd
be lying if he said it didn't scare him. He was not going to show that,
however, and he got back in his car to leave campus before someone called about
some creepy guy lingering in the parking lot.
Stiles hummed faintly to himself as he went to his first class. He did not miss
the odd look that the lot that had climbed out of Derek's car had given him.
Scott was the first one to speak up, and he said, "How do you know Derek?"
"It's not exactly a big town," Stiles mimicked his uncle, rolling his shoulder
in a shrug, smirking a little as a text came in, ignoring the flat out glare
Erica gave him.
"You're who he was with Friday," she said with a sneer. Obviously, she did not
like that idea at all, but Stiles did not care. If he was going to worry about
anyone's approval, it would be his uncles'. That, though, was so unlikely that
it made Stiles frown a little.
Reading the text he got at that moment, however, changed the frown into a faint
smile. The message was nothing big, just a simple comment about Stiles coming
across as being the creeper.
Admitting that you are, now? ;)
He sent the text after saving Derek's number in his phone, leaving it as
'Derek'. He wanted to label the guy as 'Sourwolf', but if either of his uncles
got into his phone and saw that, he would be screwed. So, a simple name would
be what worked. "He's been through a lot," Allison said after a moment, knowing
that nobody else would say what they wanted to. So, she took the opportunity to
say it for them. "Don't hurt him or we'll hurt you."
"Look, I know you lot don't know me, but hurting Derek is not on my to-do list,
okay?" Stiles stated as he turned in his seat to better face the others while
the entire class waited for their teacher. "I happen to really like the guy,
even if he looks like he's constantly in a terrible mood. He's... I dunno, but,
look, if it makes you feel better, I promise that you can maul me to your
little wolfy contentment if I hurt him." He grinned a little at the look of
shock that crossed their features. Obviously, Derek had not let them in on the
fact that he knew what they were. Oops. Oh well.
The rest of the day was spent dodging questions from Derek's pack, trying to
focus on his classes, and reading over a book on runes he had found in the
library. Really, who put things like that in a school library? It was asking
for trouble. Of course, the chance of someone really picking it out was rare.
If the dust that had been on it was anything to go by, nobody had touched it
since it was put on the shelf. He also found a bestiary in the fiction section.
A smirk had formed on his face as he picked it out. If only the silly people of
the town knew.
That evening, Stiles sat at the kitchen table, pouring over the bestiaries that
he and his uncles had gathered over the years, including the journal that Sam
and Dean's father had kept. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he read
about the differences between a windigo, werewolves, shape shifters, and the
loup garou. While the werewolves were basically just like the loup garou, what
Stiles learned was the later were typically born and had control over their
turning, though not in the way that the shape shifters did. The windigos were
basically the same thing as the traditional werewolves that had no control over
their turning with the moon and their hunger for flesh. Loup garou could be
made, by a bite from an alpha but they were definitely more like what one would
consider a lycanthrope, one that turns but still has control over the animal
side, whether it's from birth or with learning.
"Huh," Stiles said to himself, absently running a hand through his hair before
looking over the table toward Sam. "There's so many fine lines between
different creatures, aren't there? S'just, kinda hard to tell sometimes."
Sam nodded a little as he flipped through the bestiary that Stiles had brought
home. "Makes our job difficult sometimes. Because what works for one creature
of a type might not work for a similar yet different one," Sam replied. "Salt
or mountain ash are always good fall backs, though. They're a general good
thing; and wolvesbane or vervain. Though vervain is more for vampires."
Stiles nodded a little, absently bouncing his knee as he read, ignoring the way
that Dean was all pouty at the kitchen island behind him. Dean, apparently, did
not like that Stiles and Sam could spend time researching and studying while
they could not hunt. There was nothing wrong with staying knowledgeable,
though. Stiles still would rather get through his senior year without any
actual hunting, especially since the guy he was dating was someone that they
would hunt. The thought made Stiles' stomach twist and he pulled out his phone
before texting Derek.
Whatcha up to?
The teen then set his phone aside, focusing on the book in front of him again
as Dean grumbled about ordering Chinese takeout. "Sweet and sour chicken for
me, please!" Stiles called, grabbing his phone when it vibrated on top of the
table, a small smile forming on his face.
Training. Scott dislocated Jackson's shoulder.
Stiles laughed softly and shook his head a little. He could practically hear
the pride in Derek's tone even through the text.
Congrats to Scott. Your pups are awfully protective of you.
Yeah, I know. Still on for Friday?
Couldn't get rid of me if you tried. ;)
"That guy from the other night?" Sam questioned, nodding toward Stiles' phone,
chuckling a little as Stiles quickly shoved the phone into his hoodie pocket.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'. So, are you going to introduce us to him?"
"Uh, yeah, maybe... if this becomes more of a thing," answered Stiles with a
shrug, though internally, he was screaming NO!While smiling at Sam. "We're
going on a second date, but, y'know. Nothing could still happen."
"Anyone know where Cas is?" sighed Dean as he came back into the room. "`Ve
been calling for him, but he won't come back."
Stiles pushed himself away from the table, making sure his phone and keys were
in his hoodie pocket as he said, "I'll go look for him. Wanna go for a walk
anyway. I'll be back soon."
The teen had no doubt that Castiel was somewhere around town. The angel would
not go too far from Dean without letting them all know. It was kind of cute, in
an odd way. Stiles smiled faintly to himself as he started to walk, looking
around for the angel of the lord that had become a permanent fixture in his
life. "Cas!" he called, his breath spiraling out in front of him, making his
brow furrow a little. It was oddly cold in California that year. "Castiel!"
It did not take too long before Stiles found Cas. He was sitting on the ground
in front of a cat that was sitting on a low laying wall along someone's
driveway. The angel's brow was furrowed in concentration while Scott and Issac
were watching him in confusion. "Is he yours?" Issac asked Stiles as the teen
approached Castiel. It was unnerving to the werewolves. They could see Castiel
plainly, but the guy gave off no scent. He did not even smell like anyone else
beyond the coat that gave off a distinctly masculine smell that did not really
seem to go with the man having a staring contest with a cat.
"Yeah," replied Stiles with an eye roll. "`Ey! Cas! Dean's been calling for
you. Snap out of it."
"Shh..." Castiel insisted, holding a hand out to Stiles in a gesture to stay
quiet. "I've almost broken him."
Stiles groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Castiel, cats are more
stubborn than me. You're not going to find out what it is you want to know from
him."
"But, I've almost..."
"No. Dean got us Chinese." Stiles reached out and grabbed Castiel's arm,
tugging on it a little to get the angel to stand, but then he fell backward as
Cas suddenly just vanished.
He braced himself to hit the ground as Issac and Scott both growled and tensed
at the sudden disappearance of the man that had been sitting in Scott's yard;
but, the impact never came. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Derek,
whose brow was lifted in amusement as he held the teen up off the ground.
"Great reflexes, Little Red," he commented with an amused smirk, tugging on the
red hood on Stiles' jacket as he straightened the teen up again.
They both ignored Scott and Issac's questions about Cas as Stiles shrugged and
said, "Well, we can't always predict what an angel's going to do. They're worse
than me, and I've been told I'm too unpredictable sometimes. It's rash and
blahblahblah."
"An angel, what?" questioned Scott, getting a bit growly at the fact he was
being ignored.
Stiles sighed and nodded a little, absentmindedly rubbing a hand through his
hair. "Uh, yeah. Demons and angels exist," he explained with a shrug before
looking back to Derek. "Should probably head back home. Dean ordered us
Chinese, and someone will eat all mine if 'm not there to defend it." That
someone being Dean, himself. "See you?"
Derek nodded a little with a faint sound of acknowledgment, and Stiles paused
for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should take the opportunity to
steal another kiss. He started to just walked off, but stopped instead and
grabbed the front of Derek's jacket to tug the guy into a kiss. He smiled
slightly when Derek's hands rested on his hips, but the elder man did not push
him away any. Stiles laughed softly as he broke the kiss, flicking Derek's
chest lightly. "See ya Friday, Sourwolf," the teen stated before letting go of
the werewolf's shirt to actually walk toward home.
The alpha looked toward Issac and Scott once Stiles had disappeared, and he
arched a brow silently before Scott said, "What the hell was that? You're
just... you're seeing the new guy? Do you even know anything about him?"
"I know a hell of a lot more than you do," Derek countered, crossing his arms
over his chest. "Now, what did you call me over here for?"
"Yeah... alright..." Scott sighed and nodded a little. He was not sure what it
was, but something seemed a bit odd about the new kid. Sure, Stiles seemed nice
enough, but there was also a harshness there that could only be explained by
years of darkness. "There's a... something in the woods. None of us know what
it is. Lydia says it looked like black smoke."
***** Four *****
Chapter Summary
     A dinner with the Winchesters, and Chris Argent sheds some light on
     the situation.
Chapter Notes
     Thanks to everyone who has read or left kudos or commented so far!
     Love you all. :)
Stiles hummed softly to himself, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the edge
of his laptop as his iPod finished synching the new songs onto it. He was
planning on going for a run and doing a bit of training in the training field
they had hidden out in the woods behind their house. It was Thursday, after
school. Most people were at sports practices or club meetings; but, Stiles was
not one for school spirit. He had only been there a few weeks, after all. They
were getting close to Halloween, something that made Stiles smirk a bit. It was
his favorite holiday. Kids and adults dressing up as the things that go bump in
the night without even knowing they really exist? It was a playground for the
supernatural; and, it was a hunter's easiest night.
 
Once the music player was done, Stiles grabbed the holster he generally wore
under a jacket and shrugged it on, making sure that the handgun in it had the
safety on and the knife in the other side was sheathed right. The last thing he
needed was to get injured while training. Dean would never let him live it
down. At least Cas could heal him if it was serious. Stiles then turned on the
iPod and locked the keys, shoving it into his back pocket. His earbuds went in
then, and the teen made his way outside.
 
Target practice, first, and once he had successfully got all targets in one go,
he put the gun up. He stilled, though, and tensed a little, sensing someone or
something behind him. Stiles slowly reached over to grab the knife out of his
holster and removed it without making any sudden movements. The teen spun
around just in time to bring the blade to his attacker's neck as he was tackled
to the ground. He grunted as he landed, and Derek smirked down at him as the
man said, “You hesitated.”
 
“Of course I hesitated,” replied Stiles with a laugh as he lowered the blade,
dropping it aside. “It was you, and killing you is really not on the agenda,
y'know.”
 
“Maybe for you.”
 
Derek arched a brow and the teen rolled his eyes before tugging the man down in
order to kiss him firmly. Stiles had been training with Derek almost every day
that week, even joining in with the pack the day before. It had been awkward at
first, but the moment that Isaac had declared he liked Stiles, that was
basically the end of that. Stiles and Scott had bonded over some video game
that Derek could care less about. He was just glad that Stiles got along well
with the pack. He was still cautious, never letting Stiles anywhere near the
pack home; but, nobody really blamed him. A part of him knew that even Stiles
would not blame him if he knew the full story behind Kate.
 
“You're heavy,” Stiles mumbled, half-heartedly pushing on Derek’s chest after a
few moments, but Derek didn't budge. He laughed softly and smirked a little.
“You're distracting me. Go play with your pups.”
 
“I'd rather talk to you,” replied Derek, making Stiles fall silent for a few
moments.
 
The teen laughed softly and smiled, leaning up enough to steal another kiss
from the elder male. “Okay, so talk,” replied Stiles, smiling softly.
 
Derek started to reply, only he tensed a little and glanced over his shoulder,
making Stiles lean up enough to do the same, and they saw Sam standing there,
arms crossed over his chest with a raised brow. “Uh... hi?” Stiles said with a
soft, awkward laugh, ruffling his hair a little as Derek moved so he was no
longer on top of the teen.
 
“You must be Derek,” Sam said as the other two got up and Stiles grabbed his
knife to put back in the holster. “Should join us for dinner, it's just now
done.”
 
Derek glanced at Stiles, who smiled slightly, and then agreed to stay, which
made Sam nod and head back to the house, telling them to come on. “They're
going to test you,” Stiles informed Derek as they slowly started to follow
after. “There's a line of salt along the door frame, we'll have silver
utensils, and they'll slip some holy water into your drink.”
 
“They take no chances, do they?” Derek replied with an amused smirk, knowing
none of those things would affect him, luckily. The last thing they needed was
the Winchesters trying to kill him.
 
Stiles shook his head a little, smirking as well. “`M their only nephew. It
comes with the territory.” He shrugged slightly and smiled as Derek took his
hand just before they went into the house, stepping over the threshold and over
the line of salt that was practically unnoticeable. If Derek had not been told
it would be there, he never would have noticed.
 
“Who's this?” questioned Dean as the two of them entered the kitchen. He
recognized the man with Stiles as being the owner of the awesome Camaro, and he
knew that Derek was the guy that Stiles was seeing, but since he had not been
officially introduced, he felt the need to ask.
 
Stiles rolled his eyes and started to help Sam set the table. “Dean, Sam, this
is Derek,” Stiles introduced, smiling over at the alpha, both of them finding
great amusement in the fact that neither of the brothers had any idea.
 
Dean let out a soft sound of acknowledgment with a nod, looking Derek up and
down. “So, what exactly are your intentions with Stiles?”
 
“Dean!” Stiles groaned and set a glass down at the places he was setting for
himself and Derek. “We're not having this discussion.”
 
“I like spending time with him,” Derek answered with a shrug and a faint smile
as Stiles looked over at him. “My intentions are to continue to enjoy spending
time with him and to get to know him more.”
 
Stiles rolled his eyes fondly, but could not keep from smiling as they all sat
down, despite Dean's look of disbelief. Sam mimicked Stiles' eye rolling and
fixed a pointed look on his brother as he said, “You're not exactly Mr.
Innocent yourself, Dean. Give them a break. Where's Cas?”
 
“Probably interrogating the neighbor's cat again,” answered Stiles with a shrug
only to jump when Castiel suddenly appeared at his side, giving him some juice
to have with his food. “Jeeze. Cas, warning?”
 
“Where did he come from?” Derek asked, arching a brow. He knew that Stiles had
said that he had lived with an angel, and he had pretty much figured out that
the weird guy who had been having a staring contest with the cat outside the
McCalls' was the angel that Stiles had mentioned. However, he was supposedly
unaware of that stuff, and was supposed to believe that Stiles' uncles worked
for the government or something.
 
Dean and Sam stumbled over making up some excuse while Castiel calmly
responded, “I was making juice.” Everyone looked from Castiel to the orange
juice he had poured into each of their glasses while the angel took a seat next
to dean. “What is wrong? Do you not like it?”
 
“No, Cas, it's great,” replied Stiles with a soft laugh and a smile.
 
As they ate, Sam and Dean asked Derek some questions that Stiles already knew
the answer to. He lived in house across town (though Stiles had never been
there, which had to be clarified, apparently), he worked part time even though
he did not have to for a long while with the inheritance and insurance money
building in a trust fund and he was taking online classes to continue his
education. Dean was impressed of Derek’s knowledge of cars. Sam was impressed
that he was taking the time to go to school. Stiles was impressed that neither
of them had any clue that they were sharing a table with a werewolf.
 
Dinner was filled with light conversation, and once they were finished, the
dishes done by Derek and Stiles, the younger of the two walked with Derek out
to the Camaro outside. Stiles had not even stopped to think about how Derek had
gotten there earlier. He guessed the guy showed up while Sam and Dean had been
in town still. Stiles leaned against the car, Derek’s hands resting on his hips
while standing close, and he said, “So, that wasn't completely terrible. It was
a bit awkward, but eh... You should stop taunting them, though. They're going
to figure it out.”
 
“Could have been worse,” Derek commented, smirking a little as he gently
squeezed Stiles hips.
 
The teen poked Derek’s chest harshly at the avoidance of not taunting Sam and
Dean, but smiled in amusement. “You're terrible,” he replied, shaking his head
a little. He rolled his eyes a little a moment later as Derek’s gaze went over
his shoulder back toward the house. “One of them is looking out the window,
right?”
 
“Dean.” Derek nodded a little, smirking slightly to himself when the mentioned
man realized that his not-so-subtle watching spot had been discovered and he
moved away from the window. Derek then looked back to Stiles. “I should go.
Pack stuff.”
 
Stiles nodded a little, but did not let Derek pull away any, not that Stiles
could have really stopped the guy if Derek had honestly wanted to move.
“Tomorrow. Pick me up at seven.”
 
“Demanding.”
 
“You like it.” Stiles grinned as Derek leaned in to kiss him firmly instead of
speaking, the teen absently grabbing a hold of the front of Derek’s shirt.
 
Stiles sighed contentedly into the lingering kiss as it deepened slightly,
though neither one pushed it to be farther than that. It was nice, and Stiles
got great pleasure out of the fact he knew at least Dean was inside freaking
out. Derek chuckled at something, glancing toward the house, as the kiss broke
before smirking at Stiles. “Dean's going to attack you with questions,” the man
stated, smiling faintly at Stiles' eye roll in response.
 
“Yeah, yeah, and you get to avoid it. Lucky bastard.” Stiles smirked in
amusement, however, as he nudged Derek away so he could stand up straight and
move away from the car. “Seven. Don't be late.” With a cheeky grin and a wave,
Stiles headed back toward the house, only going inside once Derek had actually
driven off. All-in-all, it was a good but completely awkward night. Stiles
smiled to himself as he went inside, ignoring Dean's slew of questions. Despite
it all, he was really falling hard and fast for the elder male. It should have
been more scary than it was, but Stiles could not keep from smiling.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
When Derek got to the house, the rest of the pack was there already, including
Allison and her father, Chris Argent. Derek’s brow rose and Chris motioned for
him to join the others in the living room. “What's going on?” asked Derek as he
leaned against the brick fireplace that was at the front of the room.
 
Chris sighed and ruffled his hair absentmindedly before he frowned a little as
he said, “Well, there's another problem. There's some new hunters in town. They
follow a different code than us. The--”
 
“Winchesters,” Derek interrupted with a nod, smirking faintly as he crossed his
arms over his chest.
 
Everyone else looked completely confused, though Chris nodded a little at
Derek. The alpha did not miss the man's almost adoring look as Chris thought
about the hunters, looking toward the Betas. “What's so special about these
hunters?” questioned Isaac as he cuddled up to Jackson’s side, resting his head
on the other teen's shoulder.
 
“Remember when I told you about Purgatory?” he questioned, waiting until he
received nods in answer before continuing, “those two alone put about half of
its' residents there.”
 
There was a low whistle from Boyd and Lydia looked completely unimpressed.
Chris looked around at the others in complete shock at how unaffected they
seemed as a whole. He was about to chastise them when Derek interrupted with a
statement that had the man looking at the alpha as if he was completely insane.
“I'm seeing their nephew,” Derek stated calmly.
 
Chris stumbled over his words before he finally got out, “Do you have a death
wish, Derek? Those two will--”
 
“Shoot first, ask questions later, I know. Stiles told me.”
 
“Whoa, wait,” stated Scott, sitting up a little more fully while finally
tearing his gaze away from Allison. “My new best friend is related to these
people? Badass.”
 
Chris glared over at Scott while Allison giggled behind her hand. “None of you
are comprehending how dangerous this is. They could wipe out the entire pack
with minimal effort. Protecting Stiles is their top goal anymore, and the
moment they find out that you're werewolves, they will not hesitate to kill all
of you,” Chris said exasperatedly. He was trying to get it through their thick
heads just how dangerous the situation is. “These are the types of hunters that
see the world in one way; there's humans, and then there's not. Demons,
werewolves, vampires, witches... all types of beings die after an encounter
with the Winchesters simply because they exist. There is no code. Sam is more
empathetic toward ones like you, the ones who don't hurt people; but, Dean?
He's trigger happy.”
 
“They also have no idea about us,” Derek said from his spot in the darkening
corner. “I had dinner with them and their little angel friend tonight. They
tested me with a salt line, holy water, and silver,” the wolves smirked a bit,
“but nothing that would give us away. They think I’m human.”
 
That seemed to dispel any worries for that moment, though Scott did notice that
Derek was still a bit on edge. If the alpha was still going to be cautious,
than so was he. Chris sighed heavily, ruffling his already mussed hair before
he said, “Be careful. The last thing we need is a bunch of rowdy hunters
showing up and disrupting the peace here.”
 
Derek nodded a little, sending a fixed look to the Betas, who all seemed to
understand that even though they were taking the news light-heartedly, they
were not to underestimate these hunters. “Did we ever figure out what was in
the woods?” he questioned since nobody had filled him in on anything.
 
Lydia sighed, examining her nails as Chris asked what they were talking about.
“There's something in the woods. We don't know what it is, and Deaton's not
been in town to get back to us. It's some kind of smoky thing,” she stated,
flicking her hair back out of her eyes.
 
“Smoky thing? Like... a pillar of black smoke?” asked Chris slowly, looking
over the others in the room. He seemed to tense when he received a nod in
answer and he closed his eyes with a sigh. “A demon. It's a demon. Stay out of
that part of the woods. We've not... we're not equipped to handle demons.
That's--”
 
“What a Winchester is for,” Derek stated, lowly enough that it was almost
missed, especially by the humans in the room.
***** Five *****
Chapter Summary
     In which Stiles and Derek find themselves with a bad homecoming.
Chapter Notes
     So, thanks so far for all the kind words, kudos, and reads. I'm glad
     people are enjoying this. I'm having a lot of fun melding the two
     worlds.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“A demon?” Stiles exclaimed, accidentally slamming his foot down on the break,
causing himself and Scott to jerk forward in their seats the next morning as
Stiles was driving them to school. “What do you mean a demon?” Stiles' seemed a
bit shaky as he focused on driving again, ignoring the guy behind them honking
and shouting at them.
 
Scott nodded a little, watching the other teen as he spoke. “Yeah, there's some
kind of demon in the woods,” Scott explained to him. “Chris... Argent, he's a--
”
 
“I know who Chris Argent is,” replied Stiles with a slight frown. He had an
issue with all of the Argents, except for Allison, apparently. He found it hard
to dislike Allison despite her family's reputation.
 
“Yeah, well, anyway; he says that they don't have the skills to deal with a
demon.” Scott told him, fiddling with his phone, checking it for messages from
Allison. “He knows the Winchesters are in town and wants to ask th--”
 
“No,” interrupted Stiles with a shake of his head, turning into the school
parking lot. “I know what to do. I’ll handle it. We don't want them doing any
kind of hunting or anything. They'll just... it'll get them thinking, and
they'll find out about you guys and I really, really don't want to mess with
that drama just yet.” Stiles parked the jeep and sighed as he ran a hand
through his hair, frowning a bit. “They won't take the news well. They don't...
They see things black and white, and it...”
 
Scott reached over to rest a hand on Stiles' shoulder, gently squeezing it.
“Hey, it's all good, dude. I understand. Just... yeah, I’ll talk to Chris, let
him know. Sure you'll be fine doing this?”
 
Stiles nodded a little as he and Scott climbed out of the jeep to head in to
the school. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing. 'Ve done exorcisms
before.”
 
“Dude, really? That's so cool.”
 
The two of them chuckled softly and made their way inside, talking about random
television shows and movies. It was nice, Stiles thought with a smile as they
continued along. He had never really had any actual friends since moving away.
He was pretty sure that he and Scott used to play together in pre-school, but
that was before. Growing up, really the only people he had were his much older
uncles, his dad, and Bobby. Since then, Castiel had been added to the mix, and
his dad was no longer with them. So, he had never really had friends his age.
It was definitely different, but nice.
 
Stiles spent the day getting to know Scott and Isaac better between classes and
during lunch; sometimes in class as well, but that was another story all
together that earned them many warnings throughout the day. So, maybe Stiles
was a bit too excited to actually feel like he hadfriends. It was allowed,
right?
 
After classes that day, Stiles made his way toward his jeep while Danny,
Jackson, Isaac, and Scott made their way to lacrosse. Stiles was not sure where
the girls went off to, but he was more focused on getting home to get to the
books that he would need. Of course, once he reached his jeep, he had to stop
with a smile, seeing Derek leaning against the side of it. “Do you enjoy
stalking the school or something?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his
chest with an amused smirk.
 
“Scott let us know. About the whole you going to the woods thing,” Derek said
simply, gruffly and a little tense as if he were completely against the idea.
Maybe the guy was, Stiles had no idea. He could not completely read Derek yet,
though it was on his goal of things to be able to do. “Maybe you shouldn't go
alone.”
 
Stiles smiled and laughed a little as he said, “Yeah, well, it's better than
someone else going with me and them getting hurt. I know how to deal with smoky
apparitions. Just... let me handle it, okay? Sam and Dean won't get involved,
nobody finds out anything, and you and I still go on our date in a few hours.”
 
“We're still going?” questioned Derek, his brow rising in surprise. He was not
against going out with Stiles, he had just figured that if Stiles was
determined to do the whole getting rid of the demon thing that would take up
his evening, or he'd be exhausted afterward.
 
“Yeah, we are.” Stiles nodded a little as he uncrossed his arms, stepping
closer to Derek, whose hands came up to rest on the teen's waist. “I might
smell a bit like sulfur, 'cause it lingers for a long time, even if humans
can't sense it; but, we're going.”
 
Derek nodded a little, absentmindedly squeezing Stiles hips a little. “Alright.
Just... be careful.” Derek frowned, not wanting to let Stiles go. If he let the
teen go, he was going to leave on his own to take care of the whole demon thing
alone. He knew that Stiles would never agree to him going with; plus, from his
conversation with Chris, a werewolf getting possessed is probably one of the
worst things that could happen. Steering clear of the thing was the best plan.
He felt an overwhelming need to go and keep Stiles safe, however.
 
Stiles beamed at him and stole a chaste kiss before pulling away. “Trust me. I
know what I’m doing. You better be there by seven, on the dot, mister.”
 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
In hindsight, it really probably was not Stiles' smartest moment to go out and
face a bloody demon on his own. The amount of strength it took from him to send
the crazily strong demon back to hell from the body of a hiker it had possessed
had rendered Stiles unconscious for at least a few moments. Dean and Sam would
strangle him if they knew what he had done. It was not like Meg was around to
help him at the moment, and Cas would only (albeit accidentally) tell Dean
about their solo adventures in taking on a demon. Sam was, for obvious reasons,
not a good possibility. There was still a big chance they could turn on Derek
and his pack, and Stiles did not want that in the slightest.
 
Bobby might have helped him, or Garth. They were both a bit more level-headed
than his uncles were. Still, it probably had not been the most thought out
plan. Stiles groaned as he pushed himself up off the ground and grabbed the
book off the ground that he had read the exorcism rites from. With a glance at
his cell phone, Stiles swore under his breath when he realized he had just
under an hour to get back to the house and get ready for his date with Derek.
That spurred him to quickly be rid of any signs of a devil's trap that had been
made, so that the, thankfully, still alive but unconscious jogger would wake up
and not have to question it as well as why there was a blank period in her
memory.
 
He drove a bit more recklessly than he usually would have, but he made it home
in record time, and before Sam and Dean made it back from their trip to the
next town over, where they were meeting with someone about some life insurance
policy his dad had taken out or something. He was not sure the details, only
that he was not technically of age yet and that would mean that even if his dad
had left him money, he would not get it for a while.
 
Stiles hopped into the shower, doing his best to be rid of the lingering smell
of sulfur there probably was all over him from having that thing tackling him
at one point. The thought alone made his skin crawl. By the time he got out of
the shower, his skin was red from the heat of the water and how hard he had
scrubbed with soap. He hated dealing with demons. They always made him feel so
irritable afterward. With a frown, Stiles picked out something to wear (a plain
white dress shirt that he left unbuttoned over his favorite “Bazinga!” t-shirt
and some dark jeans), and quickly changed. He pushed his sleeves up past his
elbows which gave the wrinkled dress shirt an even more casual look than it had
before.
 
He was finished with time to spare, and made his way downstairs, sighing as he
hopped up onto the counter, opening a soda he grabbed from the refrigerator. It
was much too quiet in the house without his uncles and Dean's tagalong there,
but thankfully he would not be there alone for long. Sam and Dean were supposed
to be back later that night; and, Stiles was really hoping that the trust he
was putting in his uncles to not be researching the mysterious events that had
plagued Beacon Hills a short time before their arrival was not going to be in
vain. He did not tango with a devil alonefor nothing.
 
The teen was so busy starting to fret about his uncles, trying to remember if
he took his Adderall, and running his hands over his thighs with a nervous
energy that he could not explain to realize that Derek was actually there
(right on time) until there was a knock on the door that made Stiles jump,
almost falling off the counter. Stiles laughed softly and sat aside the soda,
double checking that he had his keys, wallet, and phone before going to the
door. The nervousness faded away, and Stiles smiled brightly at Derek once he
got the door open. “Hi,” he said, stepping out onto the porch as Derek took a
step back.
 
“You got hurt,” Derek said instead of replying with a greeting in kind, taking
Stiles' forearm in hand where there was a slightly jagged cut from a branch of
some kind that had attacked him when he had fallen over. There was a frown on
Derek’s face, and the alpha's brow was furrowed, not liking that he could not
do anything to fix it.
 
“It's no big deal,” replied Stiles with a shrug, though he smiled as he moved
his arm out of Derek’s grasp to take his hand in his own instead. “I'm fine.
The demon's gone. Nothing to worry about.”
 
Stiles heart did not falter once, and he smiled brightly, which earned him a
faint smile in return, but he could not get past the feeling that things were
not as right and good as they seemed as they climbed into the car. Maybe it was
just that nervous energy rebounding on him. Derek never ceased to make him
nervous, and happy, and excited, and scared all at once. It was an odd mix of
emotions; but, from what he understood, coming from someone you liked, that
could be considered a good thing.
 
“C'mon, stop worrying, Sourwolf,” stated Stiles, nudging Derek a bit. “Let's
get out of here before my uncles get back and decide to play 'Twenty
Questions', yeah?”
 
“Yeah, okay,” Derek agreed, mumbling the words a little with a nod before
resting his hand on Stiles' lower back to lead the teen over to the car where
he opened the door for Stiles to get in. He really hated the thought that
Stiles was injured, even if it was a minor thing. However, he was not going to
let that dampen the evening. He was not personally very fond of the whole fall
festival thing, but Stiles wanted to go, so he figured he might as well make
the most of things. He was just glad to get some time with the teen again,
hopefully as uninterrupted as possible with as busy and noisy the fairgrounds
were going to be.
 
Soon enough, the two of them were wandering the fairgrounds, side-by-side so
that their arms brushed together as they moved, each holding on to a cup of
warm apple cider as they walked. It was not too cold out, though the air was a
bit more nippy than it had been over the previous few days. Stiles' nose was
red from it. Derek found it cute. Stiles did not agree and made an exaggerated
pout when the man had pointed it out to him. “So, how did you come upon your
betas?” Stiles questioned, shifting his shoulders a little underneath Derek’s
leather jacket that he was wearing so that it sat better on his slimmer frame.
“They're not blood related, are they?”
 
Derek shook his head a little, glancing over to where he could see Jackson and
Isaac walking, Jackson’s arm around the other boy's waist as they had a rather
heated discussion over how Beacon Hills was going to win the lacrosse final
again. “No, it's... complicated,” Derek answered, shifting his drink in his
hand. Neither of them were worried about being overheard. The fall fest was too
noisy and crowded. The only people who would possibly overhear were the ones
that it did not matter if they did. It seemed for a moment that Derek was going
to leave it at that, and Stiles was going to move on, but then the man was
speaking again. “Scott was actually turned by my uncle, who we then killed
because... well, he was a monster. He did not stay dead, though.”
 
Derek scowled a little at that fact, seemingly getting stuck on it before
Stiles nudged him a little, softly making a joke about zombie werewolves that
made Derek smirk a bit. “Yeah, well, Scott and I had issues at first; but,
eventually he started to trust me when he realized I was only trying to protect
him, and that I was completely lost on this whole alpha thing. He actually
helped a lot. Jackson asked for the bite, he was... Well, it was a very dark
time for him, but he worked through it; not until Isaac joined us, though.
Isaac’s dad... he was a bit of a monster,” Derek explained slowly, scowling and
tensing at the mere thoughtof someone hurting his pack, even if it was before
they were pack. Stiles' fingers curled around his arm, though; long fingers
pressing into his pulse point there, and the alpha slowly calmed down a bit.
“Boyd wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere, and Erica wanted a new start,
a life free of her epilepsy. The humans are tied to the pack because of
friendship or a relationship.”
 
“I didn't realize that humans could be pack,” Stiles commented, lifting the
cider that was still in his free hand up to take a drink, glancing over at
Derek while sliding his hand down the other man's arm in order to lace their
fingers together.
 
“Humans have always been an important part of a pack.” Derek nodded a little
with a faint smile at Stiles. Honestly, he was glad to answer the young
hunter's questions about pack dynamics and the like. Stiles seemed to actually
thrive under learning new information; and, unlike with hunters, he seemed to
want to just understand instead of use the knowledge as a weapon. “Pack is more
than just the wolves. It's family.”
 
Stiles laughed softly with a smile, gently squeezing Derek’s hand again as the
smile slowly turned into a smirk. “I told you that you should invest in a
minivan, Papa Wolf.” Derek scowled, though the teen swore he saw an amused
smirk beginning to form for a moment, and Stiles grinned.
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
The evening faded by much too fast for Stiles' liking, and soon enough, they
were parked outside the house, Stiles still wearing Derek’s jacket as he tugged
the man in enough to kiss him firmly, though still keeping the kiss simple.
Neither one wanted to push to anything farther for a multitude of reasons. It
did not last nearly long enough before Stiles felt Derek tense in front of him,
feeling the way the man's entire body seemed to lock up with both his hands on
Derek’s chest. Stiles backed away, brow furrowing as he watched Derek’s gaze
lifted toward the house, eyes flashing red for a moment in a way that was all
too unmistakable. Derek growled low in his chest and Stiles spun around to see
Dean pointing a gun at them. It was not the Colt, but Stiles was sure it had
silver bullets in it. He knew that silver would not hurt Derek, but that did
not make the threat behind it any less real; and, if Dean had known silver did
not work on this type of werewolf, he would have used wolfsbane. “Stiles, get
out of the way,” Sam demanded from next to his brother, but Stiles did not
move.
 
He set his jaw, straightening up a little more as he felt Derek rest a hand on
his hip again. The man's grip tightened a little, but it was not to a point
anywhere near painful and Stiles felt no pinch of claws. Derek had more self-
restraint than Stiles had anticipated. The teen looked his eldest uncle
straight in the eye as he stood his ground and replied, “No.”
 
Chapter End Notes
     Yup. That's where I decided to end the chapter. Why? 'Cause it felt
     like a good spot. Thoughts?
***** Six *****
Chapter Summary
     A confrontation, a resolution, and a dream.
Chapter Notes
     Thank you everyone who has enjoyed this so far! I love reading the
     comments left. :)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“Stiles, get out of the way,” Sam demanded from next to his brother, but Stiles
did not move.
 
He set his jaw, straightening up a little more as he felt Derek rest a hand on
his hip again. The man's grip tightened a little, but it was not to a point
anywhere near painful and Stiles felt no pinch of claws. Derek had more self-
restraint than Stiles had anticipated. The teen looked his eldest uncle
straight in the eye as he stood his ground and replied, “No.”
 
Sam sighed heavily with a frown, and Dean's grip tightened on the gun just a
little. “Stiles, move,” insisted the elder of the two Winchester brothers, but
their nephew stood their ground. “He's a--”
 
“I said no. Do I need to say it in Spanish?” Stiles scowled but kept his
position in front of Derek, lowering one hand to rest on top of the other
man's, his fingers brushing over Derek’s knuckles. Derek did not loosen his
grip any, but he did not tighten it any more, either. “I know what he is, Dean.
I don't care.” Stiles glanced over his shoulder at Derek, smiling softly before
looking back toward his uncles. “I care about him, and I could very easily fall
in love with him.” Stiles felt Derek’s grip on his hip tighten, but neither of
them moved away from each other. If anything, Derek pulled Stiles a little
closer to him and the teen rested so that his back was against Derek’s chest.
“If you kill him, you'll have to kill me, too.”
 
There was a tense silence between the group as the Winchesters seemed to be
thinking over their options, though there were not too many of them. Derek was
fighting the want to take Stiles and move the teen behind him, to protect
Stiles from the gun being pointed at them; but, he was keeping still in the
hope that Dean would not be so far gone in his narrow-minded way of thinking
that he would shoot Stiles just to get at him. “You're sixteen, Stiles,” Dean
said after a moment, not lowering his gun. “You don't know what love is. You're
protecting a monster.”
 
“I'm protecting someone that has never killed an innocent being,” countered
Stiles with an exasperated sigh, flailing his hands a little. “Could you please
just get past this whole humans are good, others are evil, Dark Ages state of
mind? Derek and his pack do not hurt people, they work with the Argents to keep
the town safe.”
 
“Dean,” Sam said softly, frowning a little as he looked between his brother and
his nephew. He honestly did not like the situation at all, but at the same time
knew that Stiles had put his mind to something and there was no changing that.
He could not just stand there and let the kid be shot in cold blood because he
was harboring feelings for a werewolf, feelings that as Dean had not-so-subtly
pointed out could change. “Just... put the gun down.”
 
The elder Winchester did lower the gun at that, turning to look incredulously
at his brother as he said, “You're on their side? Sammy.”
 
“Dean, just... Stiles says the guy is okay, that they've not hurt anyone. I
mean, maybe we should let this one go...” The way that Sam let the words hang
in the air made it quite clear that he did not tack on the “for now” that he so
desperately wanted to add. Stiles was glad for it.
 
The teen let out a breath that he did not realize that he had been holding
until Dean reluctantly handed the gun over to Sam, who put the safety on. Dean
then looked at Stiles, pointing to the teen and then over his own shoulder.
“You. Inside. Now. We're going to have a long talk about this,” Dean insisted,
glaring at Derek as if he were seriously contemplating stealing the gun back.
 
Stiles nodded a little with a heavy sigh before turning away to look at Derek
with a faint smile. “Some date, huh?” the teen questioned softly for Derek to
hear, but too low for his uncles. “They're going to take my phone; but, I will
see you.”
 
Derek did not say anything. He squeezed Stiles' hip gently once more, pressing
a kiss to the teen's forehead before stepping away. “Scott will want a ride
tomorrow,” Derek stated, knowing that he and Stiles needed to have a talk of
their own once they got some time to themselves again. Stiles nodded, knowing
that their need to talk was weighing heavily on Derek’s thoughts. “Good night,
Stiles.”
 
With that one simple phrase, Stiles' worries faded away and he smiled, leaning
up to steal an actual kiss from Derek before taking a few steps back. Derek was
not saying good-bye, and that was something that Stiles had honestly feared the
man saying. The alpha did not smile back, though the faint upturn of his lips
might have well been a full on grin as Derek climbed into the Camaro and made
his way down the drive to the road. Only once they could no longer hear the car
did Stiles turn around to look at his uncles, and Cas who had appeared next to
Dean at some point when he was not paying attention. He could hear Castiel ask
about what the plan was. “What are we going to do about Stiles?” was his
specific question, but he was waved off by Dean, who frowned at Stiles.
 
“Inside,” Dean insisted as his nephew walked up the porch steps. He and Sam
were the last ones inside while Castiel remained quiet and thoughtful,
lingering in the shadows as he was known to do. Stiles went into the living
room and sat down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest while he sank
down low in his seat, bouncing one of his knees as his uncles each took one of
the chairs on either side of the couch facing the coffee table in the middle.
“How long have you known?”
 
“Since before we went out the first time,” Stiles answered with a shrug. “It's
kinda obvious, really. I’ve trained with them this past week. Well, 'trained'
is a bit too technical. It was mostly running a bit and a bunch of horseplay.
They're all just big kids. They're not... it's not like the werewolves you're
used to, y'know. They don't eat hearts or any of that stuff. Derek is actually
a born werewolf. It's more like...”
 
“Loup garou,” Sam continued as Stiles trailed off, earning himself a nod from
the teen while Dean continued to look confused. “They can control the shift?”
 
“Some more than others. Derek is actually really good at it. They just need an
anchor, something to keep them human, to remind them that they arehuman, and
not a monster.” Stiles sighed and bit his lower lip lightly, unable to keep
still while trying to ignore the faint buzzing sound from somewhere in the back
of his head. He could just feel it starting a headache. “The only person Derek
has killed was his own uncle, who turned Scott unwillingly and was killing
people in revenge of their family's slaughter.”
 
Dean scowled as he rubbed his right temple, closing his eyes while taking deep
breaths. “Stiles, these things... they're not like us. What makes you think
he's not going to turn on you?” questioned the elder Winchester, looking over
at Stiles. “What if he bites you... or one of his little friends?”
 
“His pack. Yes, they're friends, but they're more than that.” Stiles shook his
head a little, resting it on the back of the couch, shifting uncomfortably
under the gaze that Castiel was fixing on him. “Scott's my best friend; and, I
trust Derek. Only he would be able to turn me, and he won't, or he would have
already.”
 
“I don't like this.”
 
“I'm not asking you to.” Stiles shook his head again, sitting up straight once
more. “I'm not asking either of you to be friends with him or to spend time
with him or anything. Just... let me be happy, and don't hurt them. I don't
care if you go out hunting again, as long as you leave them out of it.”
 
“If he hurts you...”
 
“Then I give you full rights to get a wolfsbane bullet and shoot him.” Sam
could not keep from laughing a little at that, even when Dean glared at him,
and Stiles smiled at his younger uncle. He knew he would probably be grounded
for a while, but that was something he could deal with, as long as his new
friends and Derek were off the hunting menu.
 
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
 
Stiles' hands were shaking and he was not exactly sure why. He did not feel
like he was about to have a panic attack or anything; but, he was not sure what
was wrong. His head hurt and he felt a little sick to his stomach. Maybe it was
simply a delayed reaction to the dream he had woken up in a sweat from. Stiles
had not been able to remember much about the dream as he showered, just that
there was him standing in some kind of room with a bunch of candles, muttering
some kind of cloaking spell as someone he did not know bled out on the floor in
front of him. His hands had not started shaking until after he had gotten out
of the shower and half-way dressed.
 
The teen closed his eyes and focused on taking slow, steadying breaths, slowly
starting to calm down and steady himself. Once he was fine, Stiles finished
getting dressed and went downstairs to grab some toast (and a glass of orange
juice that Sam thrust at him) for breakfast. “Uh, thanks,” Stiles said before
taking a sip of his juice, glancing around a little. “Where's Dean?”
 
“He and Cas went somewhere across country. Garth needed some help,” answered
Sam with a shrug before getting back to doing the dishes, like he had been
doing before Stiles came downstairs.
 
“And someone needed to stay and babysit me.” Stiles rolled his eyes and hopped
up to sit on the counter, swinging his legs as he shifted the cup around
between his fingers. “How did you guys find out about Derek, anyway?”
 
Sam seemed to contemplate on how to answer that question for a moment before he
spoke with a slightly deeper voice. “I can't believe you didn't know there was
a pack of werewolves there. The Hale family has been known as wolves for
forever. Idjits.”
 
Stiles snorted into his orange juice and smirked a little in amusement. Of
course, Bobby was the one to point out the obvious. “Well, he's got a point. I
mean, we all know about Kate and what she did. Never sat right with me what
she'd done.”
 
“Between you and me?” Sam said after a moment with a soft sigh. “I agree. What
Argent did was above and beyond any moral standard that even a hunter should
have.”
 
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
 
“I forgot how amazing these burgers were,” Dean said around the giant bite he
had just taken, sitting across from Garth but next to Castiel in a booth near
the back of a diner. They all had newspapers and other random articles they
were reading over to get a better handle on the case they were working.
 
Garth hummed an agreement, not looking up from the book that he was pouring
over while Cas remained silent until the angel said, “What are we going to do
about Stiles?”
 
“Stiles is grounded until forever. There's nothing to talk about.”
 
The angel's face pinched as he seemed completely at a loss to something,
looking between Dean and Garth. “I'm not sure how grounding him is going to fix
things.”
 
Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face, sinking down in his seat a little
more. “Yeah, well, at least it will stop him from doing something stupid.”
 
“If you believe so,” replied Castiel after a moment, nodding a little while
looking around the diner at the people enjoying themselves all around,
completely oblivious to the fact that there was a nest of vampires nearby.
 
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
 
“You look tired,” Scott commented as Stiles drove the two of them to school
after picking Scott up at his place.
 
Stiles nodded a little, taking a drink of the coffee he had stopped to pick up
since his uncles would not allow him to make any at the house before noon.
Assholes. “Yeah, I didn't sleep too well last night,” replied Stiles with a
slight shrug. “Guess having my uncle point a gun at me messed with me more than
I thought. There was a moment there when I thought that Dean might actually...”
 
“He wouldn't.” Scott shook his head a little, reaching over to squeeze Stiles'
knee in platonic reassurance. “They love you, y'know, even if you hang out with
us.”
 
“Yeah, I know.” Stiles smiled a little and took a drink of his coffee, shifting
his hold on the steering wheel to turn into the school parking lot with one
hand. He smile a bit more when he spotted a very familiar black Camaro parked
near the edge of the parking lot and saw Derek standing there, talking to one
of the betas.
 
After parking the car and turning off the engine, Stiles and Scott got out,
both walking over to where Derek and Isaac were talking. “Hey, guys,” Stiles
said with a smile that both Derek and Isaac returned.
 
“Allison's inside,” Isaac told Scott, who grinned and nodded before heading
inside.
 
Stiles shook his head a little but smiled as Derek pulled him close, grabbing
the front of the elder man's jacket that the teen still wore. “So, I’m pretty
much grounded for a long while,” Stiles stated, wrapping an arm around Derek’s
waist while glancing over at Isaac. “Which means I can't help you prank Jackson
for a while.”
 
“Well, that's no good,” replied Isaac with a slight pout, crossing his arms
over his chest. “Any way you can sneak out?”
 
“I would, but I figure the easiest way to get ungrounded is to stay on my
uncles' good side for a bit.” Stiles nodded, absentmindedly twisting his
fingers into the material of Derek’s shirt. “I'll be back in training sooner
then.”
 
“Alright, then. I’ll hold you to that.” Isaac smiled at Stiles before waving as
he told Derek he'd see him after classes.
 
Once they were alone, Stiles shifted enough to actually look at Derek and
smiled a little. “So, I’m sorry about Sam and Dean,” he said, nodding a little.
“But, I mean... at least now I don't have to lie? So that's a good thing.”
 
“Yeah,” replied Derek with a nod, pressing a kiss to Stiles' forehead. “I..
Thank you, for standing up for me... for us. You didn't have to, y'know.”
 
“Yeah, I did.” Stiles nodded a little and pressed a firm kiss to Derek’s lips.
“I meant everything I said to them.”
 
Derek laughed a little, looking equally parts awkward, confused, and happy. He
was not sure what to think about all of it, but he knew that he cared a lot for
the teen in his arms. “You should head inside. Wouldn't want to make you late,”
Derek stated after a few moments, stealing one more kiss before letting Stiles
go. The teen had taken a few steps away when Derek cleared his throat and said,
“You know, I think... I think that I could very easily fall in love with you,
too.”
 
Stiles stumbled a little, eyes widening in complete shock before a brilliant
grin crossed his face, looking toward Derek. “Good. 'Cause I don't plan on
letting you go anytime soon, Sourwolf.” He smiled once again before turning to
walk toward the school once again.
 
Stiles could not keep the smile off his face all day, a light, happy feeling
overwhelming him in a way he had never actually felt before. Boyd commented on
his good mood, and Stiles simply shrugged and said that things were finally
starting to go right. He tried to squish the thought that the entire thing
meant that something was going to go wrong, and he should just wait for the
entire fall out.
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     Any ideas on what the new drama is going to be? :D
***** Seven *****
Chapter Summary
     Some questions are answered, and others are made.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles was alone in the locker room, staring blankly at the floor. He had no
idea how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was leaving the
cafeteria at lunch to get a soda from the vending machine. His cell phone was
on the bench next to him, vibrating non-stop, but he could not bring himself to
answer the phone call. Stiles felt sick and the smell of burning flesh would
not leave him alone. “Holy god,” he gasped before actually getting up and
running to the nearest stall to empty the contents of his stomach.
 
He cringed when he pulled away, flushing the toilet while wiping his mouth with
the back of his hand before going to the sink to gather some water in his hands
to splash onto his face. He rinsed out his mouth and washed his hands while he
was there, wishing he did not feel so... dirty. “Fuck,” the teen said with a
heavy, shaky exhale, closing his eyes as he stood there. When he opened his
eyes again, he found someone else in the locker room behind him, spotting the
figure in the mirror. He spun around to see Mr. Hogg standing there with a
rather intimidating smirk. “Uh...”
 
The school principal held up Stiles' phone as he said, “I told your uncle that
you got caught up assisting me in reorganizing the library.” He raised an
eyebrow as he studied the paler-than-usual teen in front of him. “Now, tell me,
Stiles. What are you doing here after hours?” He smirked again as Stiles seemed
to struggle to come up with an answer. “You're not in sports and I highly doubt
the librarian would have stayed this long.”
 
“Uhm... I just came back, found an open door, because I forgot something; and,
then I felt sick, so...” Stiles did not stammer over his words, but the amused
glint in Mr. Hogg's eyes made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“I'm just gonna go. Can I have my phone back?”
 
“Catch.”
 
Without farther warning, the principal tossed the phone at Stiles' face, who
barely caught it before it hit him. Stiles grabbed his backpack and quickly
left, not sure if he imagined or actually heard the principal say, “I'll be
seeing you, Mr. Stilinski.”
 
Stiles ran out to his Jeep and quickly left the school, calling Sam as he
drove. “Hey, yeah, sorry,” he said, flinching a little when he heard Dean
shouting in the background. Apparently, he and Castiel were already back. “I
got asked to help fix the library for extra credit.” He had interrupted the
yelling from both Dean and Sam, who both quietened a little. “Sorry. I forgot
to warn you. I’ll be home in like ten minutes, you can yell at me then.”
 
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
It was after his uncles and Castiel had gone to bed that Stiles realized how
restless he was. He could not sleep, though he wanted to and he did try,
staring at the ceiling from his bed. Something was going on, and he was pretty
sure that no matter what it was, it wasn't good. “Holy god,” Stiles groaned
once again, pushing himself up off his bed so that he could go over to his desk
where he opened up his laptop. He was only allowed to use it for homework and
hunting research, but he could erase his tracks.
 
He started out simply watching some mindless comedy movie while drinking some
chamomile tea that he hoped would calm him down. Stiles bounced his knee and
swung from side-to-side in the rotating chair that he occupied. It was not
working, he realized at some point after one in the morning. Stiles sighed and
ran a hand through his hair. He had not missed a dose of his Adderall, nor had
he taken more than the right amount; so, he had no idea why he could not calm
down. His heart felt like it was beating more rapidly than usual. His mind
would not settle, either. Somehow, he found himself going through different
forums and sites on the supernatural. A lot of them were wrong, others had
vague ideas of what was right, and still others were so accurate they had to
have been put up by hunters.
 
Stiles was about to give up and take some Benedryl enough to make him drowsy so
that he could sleep when he found himself reading a page on possession. His
brow furrowed the longer he read, and after a while (Stiles honestly had no
idea how long he had been there), he quickly closed the tab, cleared his
history, and shut the laptop, all but jumping out of his chair. Stiles heart
was beating even more rapidly and he felt a bit faint. That could not be what
was going on with him. There would be a sulfur smell, and none of the
werewolves had said anything. So, it was not there. Stiles continued to
reassure himself that it was just a coincidence. It was something else going on
with him. It was probably magic related. He needed to find someone to talk to
that wasn't his family, part of the pack, or one of the Argents; and, he needed
to do it soon.
 
He sighed and glanced over at the clock on his bedside table, frowning when he
saw that his alarm was about to go off. He went over and shut off the timer
before going to grab the clothes he would wear to school and then went into the
bathroom for a quick shower. After he had gotten ready for the day, he made his
way back downstairs to the kitchen. Castiel was eying him while cooking
breakfast as Sam and Dean both sat at the table, discussing the Argents coming
over for dinner that evening and going to talk to Deaton at some point about
something they had found out about while working with Garth. “Alan's here?”
questioned Stiles, perking up a little more as he grabbed the glass of milk
that had been set out for him.
 
“Yep,” replied Dean with a nod, closing the journal that was spread open on the
table. “Something big's going down, kid. Keep your guard up for anything
unusual.”
 
Stiles did not miss the way that Castiel's gaze fell onto him again and he
busied himself with sitting down and drinking his milk after nodding. “Could I
go talk to him after school?” questioned Stiles, twisting his glass around on
top of the table. “You could call him and make sure I go there and everything.
I’d like to see him again. S'been a while.”
 
The brothers shared a look, not exactly sure if they should agree to it; but,
they knew that Deaton had helped a lot with Stiles' training, and he had helped
them in a lot of sticky situations. Plus, the man had been a good friend of
Stiles' father. “Sure, kid,” replied Sam after a moment with a nod. “Just an
hour, though. Then, you come here and start on the dishes or homework.”
 
“Yeah, alright, thanks.” Stiles beamed and finished off the milk in the glass
before setting it aside, feeling a little nauseous. He was not sure he would be
able to force himself to eat any of the breakfast. “I should probably go. I've
got to talk to Mr. Harris about this problem on my chemistry homework.” Stiles
did not wait for a response before he was rushing for the door, getting out of
the house as soon as possible.
 
He had no explanation for his actions, he realized as he drove toward Scott's
house. He had just felt trapped or something. Stiles was not sure what the
feeling was. All he knew was that it was almost similar to a panic attack, like
there was too much going on all at once. His skin felt too tight, too much;
and, he had no idea what was going on with him.
 
Scott did not seem to notice that anything was different, however. Maybe it was
all in Stiles' head, then. It would not have surprised him if it was simply a
result of stress and little sleep. Then again, he had never had blackouts
because of that before. “Dude, are you okay?” Scott asked when they were almost
to the school, neither one of them bothering to check their cell phones that
were vibrating in their own hoodie pockets.
 
“Yeah, s'just been an odd few days,” replied Stiles with a distracted nod, his
brow furrowing a little as he turned into the school parking lot, which was
filled with police cars and an ambulance. Stiles' face blanched even more than
it was to a point where it almost looked ashen as he watched them load a
stretcher into the ambulance with a black bag strapped to the top of it.
“What's going on?”
 
“I have no idea,” Scott mumbled as the two of them got out and made their way
to the small crowd of people that were near the police tape line, none of them
having received the call about classes being canceled for the day before having
left for school.
 
The two teens stood there, trying to get a glimpse of anything that might tell
them what was going on. Stiles' stomach rolled when he heard someone whispering
furiously about hearing that some janitor was burned to death in the school the
night before using ingredients from the chemistry lab. It was too specific to
have not been on purpose. The only thing no one could figure out was who would
want to attack a janitor. Stiles felt sick and he stumbled back toward his
Jeep, starting a little when Scott was suddenly at his side, asking if he was
okay. “I-I need, oh my god, Scott,” Stiles stumbled over his words, eyes
darting across the parking lot to where the principal was leaning back against
his black sports car. “I think I'm... I’ve....” Scott's brow furrowed in
confusion as he tried again to ask what was wrong and Stiles shook his head,
climbing into the Jeep.
 
Scott stood there dumbly as Stiles sped off for a moment before pulling out his
cell phone to call Derek. “Hey, uh, I think... Dude, I think something's really
messed up right now,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked from the school
to the direction that Stiles had driven. “Some guy was killed at the school
last night and Stiles is... well, I dunno. He just freaked and left.”
 
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
Stiles parked the Jeep outside the animal clinic in town, not sure how he knew
that it was where Alan was working, but he knew. Running a hand over his face
with a heavy sigh, the teen climbed out of the car and then went inside the
building. “Alan?” he called, looking around a little while walking over toward
the low wall that divided the back of the clinic and the waiting area, pausing
to look at the top of the swinging door, fingers brushing along the side of it.
 
“Stiles,” replied Alan Deaton as he came out of the back, a faint smile tugging
on his lips. “I never expected to see you here. When did you...?”
 
“Almost a month now.” Stiles mumbled the words, glancing over at the calendar.
Halloween was drawing even more close. “Fitting. Huh.” The teen then looked
back to the veterinarian, whose expression had gone stoney and arms had crossed
over his chest. Stiles just grinned though he was not fully sure why. He did
not want to smile. He had nothing to smile over. He seemed to be fighting for
consciousness, something making him want to pass out or something. The teen
barely had time to react before he was no longer fully aware of what was going
on.
 
Everything seemed muted and he tried to move away from Deaton but his body did
not respond. Then, Stiles froze as he heard his own voice saying, “Well, I see
you're quick on the uptake, Deaton.” A chuckled passed his lips but it was a
lot darker than anything he had been known to produce. “Mountain ash. Very neat
trick.”
 
“Which one are you?” questioned the man behind the counter, all but glaring at
Stiles.
 
No, Stiles told himself. Deaton was not really glaring at him, but at whatever
it was that had control over him at the moment. It was pretty exhausting trying
to keep up with what was going on and to keep what little awareness he had. His
body simply smirked and made a vague motion with his hand that sent Deaton
stumbling back, nearly falling into the wall. “Hmm... not nearly what I had
hoped. Your mountain ash trick is effective, then,” stated Stiles. No, no, it
wasn't him, Stiles told himself once again. The entire thing was completely
frustrating.
 
Stiles' awareness faded to nothing after that until he found himself parking
the Jeep outside of his house. The teen's heart was racing and he was not sure
why. Stiles' brow furrowed as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel,
looking over toward the house. A car that Stiles knew to belong to Chris Argent
was parked out front, next to the Camaro. Stiles did a double take at that. The
Camaro? What was Derek doing there? He quickly turned off the Jeep, and then
made his way inside the house. He only got as far as the living room when he
stopped, seeing his uncles, Castiel, Chris, and Derek all standing there. Their
expressions varied, but the most common one would be one of confusion.
 
He took a step forward to go over to them and ask what was going on when he
realized that he could not move any farther and his gaze slowly trailed upward
to where a hasty, red devil's trap was painted onto the ceiling. A smirk
twisted up on Stiles' lips as his gaze lowered to the others in the room and
Dean let out a nearly feral sounding growl at the fact that his nephews eyes
were completely blacked out. “Deaton was right,” Sam said with a scowl, his
grip on the knife that they had gotten from Ruby all that time ago shifting.
Chris had the Colt in hand and Derek seemed completely out of place.
 
“Well, now, that isn't very friendly,” stated Stiles as he crossed his arms
over his chest. “Has anyone ever told you that you don't play well with others,
Dean?”
 
“What do you want with Stiles?” was all that he received in response. Well, the
demon controlling him received the answer, anyway.
 
The demon clicked his tongue and sighed with a shake of his head. “Really?
That's the first question you're going to ask?” stated the creature as he
started to walk around the circle a little to expel some of the excess energy
that the body he was claiming had. “After taking the poor boy's dear old dad,
didn't you think I’d get him next? This is such a nice suit, though. I think I
may keep it.”
 
Derek’s confused expression only seemed to grow as he looked between Stiles and
the hunters in the room. He had simply gone to the house to see if Stiles was
there after what Scott had told him. However, Deaton's phone call had
interrupted their conversation and they had asked Derek to stay. “I thought you
knew,” Castiel said softly, looking over at Dean. “That was why I was
asking...”
 
“What we were going to do with Stiles,” stated Dean, his voice barely audible
to even Derek as he looked from the angel to his nephew's body. “What I want to
know is how did you even possess him in the first place?”
 
The demon dropped a hand down to his side and pulled out a black, leather cord
that looked as though it was what had made up the anti-possession necklace that
Stiles was supposed to always wear. “The thing about these,” he stated as he
tossed the cord out of the circle created by the devil's trap, “are that they
can so easily be ripped off without even alarming the wearer. You really should
have just gotten him the tattoo.”
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     :O So Stiles has been possessed. More information on how and all that
     fun stuff in the next chapter.
***** Eight *****
Chapter Summary
     In dealing with the demon, and Bobby arrives.
Chapter Notes
     Thanks everyone! :D
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“I need a spell,” Stiles said as he walked into the small, metaphysical shop
downtown that did not get too many visitors. Of course, Stiles was not mentally
present at the time, but nobody around him knew that.
 
The kindly looking woman behind the counter eyed him warily, reaching up to
wrap her fingers around a pendant that she wore. “What kind of spell, dearie?”
she asked in a slightly graveled voice.
 
“The kind that will keep wolves off my scent.”
 
“A mask.”
 
Stiles nodded with a smirk. “A mask.”
 
 
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
Stiles hummed to himself as he slowly walked the halls of the school, heel to
toe as he brushed his fingers along the lockers along the wall. “Come little
children, I’ll take thee away,” he sang under his breath before letting out a
laugh that would never have passed his lips were it truly him. His eyes were
blackened and a wicked smirk twisted up on his features. So many deaths that
were not yet realized were going to be on the poor teenager's conscience...
That was if he survived.
 
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said in a sing-song voice, smirking
with a soft laugh as he could hear the sounds of someone running on the floor
above him, shifting his grip on the bottle he held in his other hand. “Do you
really think that will work?”
 
In a matter of moments, Stiles was on the floor above, in front of the janitor
that was trying to run, smiling charmingly. The man's eyes widened in fear as
he stumbled back a few steps. “Isn't it sad how easy this place makes it for
students to get their hands on dangerous chemicals?” questioned the demon,
taking a step toward the man who seemed clueless as to what he should do. “The
boss wants you dead.”
 
“Wh-why? What did I do?” stuttered the man, pressing himself back against the
wall.
 
“Huh.” Stiles paused, looking contemplative for a moment before he looked back
to the janitor. “You know. I never thought to ask.” Without another word,
Stiles tossed the crudely made Molotov cocktail at the man and smirked as he
caught fire.
 
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
 
Stiles was pacing inside the Devil's Trap while everyone was talking options.
If they just exorcised the demon, it would come back. However, it was in
Stiles, and effectively getting rid of the demon possessing him would put the
teen at risk. None of them seemed to be willing to do it. “Let's just send the
damn thing back to hell, make sure everyone has the anti-possession symbol, and
be ready for this fucker to get back,” Dean finally stated, shrugging off Sam's
hand on his arm. “I want it gone. Now.”
 
The demon smirked a little, fingers reaching up to brush against the collarbone
of the body it was possessing as Sam stepped forward and started to recite the
passage that was needed, knowing that Dean was not in the right state of mind
to try to get it right. Lights flickered and the house shook a little, but the
demon just continued to smirk, a low laugh slowly building up the longer and
more intense Sam's reciting grew. “Oh, come on,” the demon said, eyes flashing
black once again as an amused grin formed on his face. “You really think I’d
just give up this suit that easily? It's nice.” He reached up and grabbed the
collar of his t-shirt, tugging it out of the way enough to show a brand on the
teen's pale skin, a mark that would bind the demon to the body. Stiles had been
too busy freaking out about everything to notice the difference. “I've work to
do for the boss still.”
 
“Crowley,” Dean said with a scowl, narrowing his eyes. “Where is he?”
 
“Closer than you think.”
 
“Enough of this!” Dean slammed his fist down on the table. “Cas, get rid of
it.”
 
The demon took a quick step back, as far back as he could, when Castiel moved
forward and he waved his index finger back and forth as he said, “Ah-ah-ah.
Touch me, angel boy, and the kid dies.”
 
“It's not lying,” Derek said with a low growl from his spot in the corner, arms
crossed over his chest. He did not trust himself to get any closer; knowing
that if he did, he would only end up doing something rather stupid. He wanted
whatever demon that was possessing his boyfriend to be gone, but he did not
know how to do that, and physical violence was typically a go-to. He did not
want to hurt Stiles, though.
 
Chris Argent eyed the Colt, which was laying on a table near by. He was told
that one shot from it would send any supernatural being to purgatory. Bound to
Stiles or not, Chris was pretty sure that it would work. After all, there was
an intense magic in the gun. As long as he did not hit the kid in a vital area,
he would be alright, and demon-free. He walked over and grabbed the Colt before
anyone could really process what was going on, and by the time he took aim and
shot at Stiles' shoulder, Dean and Sam were both shouting, “No!”
 
There was a flash of white light from inside the devil's trap, and by the time
it faded, Stiles was no longer in the middle of it. Derek growled lowly and his
eyes flashed red as he turned his gaze to Chris, who shakily set down the Colt,
his face pale and confused. He had thought... “What happened?” the hunter
mumbled as Dean angrily took the Colt from the other man. “I thought... I
thought it was supposed to be rid of any supernatural being.”
 
“Yeah, and any vessel it's in with it,” stated Sam as he ran a hand through his
hair, trying his hardest to keep his voice even while Castiel was just staring
blankly at the spot that Stiles had been in moments before.
 
“Where is he?” Derek growled again, his fingers nearly bruising his own arms
from the grip he had on them to stop himself from attacking Chris.
 
Nobody answered for the longest time, and Derek started to grow even more
agitated until Castiel finally stated, “Purgatory. He's in purgatory.”
 
 
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
 
Stiles sat up with a gasp, reaching up to grab his shoulder where there was a
phantom pain. His brow furrowed and he moved his shirt (which had a hole ripped
in it) out of the way to see where what looked like a scarred over bullet wound
replaced the binding symbol that had been there. Stiles' brushed his fingers
over the bright white skin, not sure how it was not a gaping, bleeding wound;
but, he was not going to dwell on that. “What the fuck?” he grumbled under his
breath as he pushed himself up off the floor and dusted off the back of his
jeans, looking at the woods around him. He frowned as he realized they were not
the woods in Beacon Hills. “Where the hell am I?”
 
He tensed when he heard leaves rustling behind him, and his hand immediately
went to the knife he could feel in the pocket on the side of his cargo pants.
Sometimes, practicality was a great thing. He easily reached down and pulled it
out, spinning around just in time to see two shapes come tumbling into the
clearing. They were fighting one another in a mix of swinging arms, sharp
teeth, and low growls. Stiles smartly backed out of the way until his back hit
a tree behind him and his eyes widened as he watched the creature on top slash
the throat of the other with one hand.
 
Stiles swallowed thickly as he tightened his grip on the handle, readying his
stance as the thing before him slowly stood and what he saw next caused him to
drop the knife in shock. “You're dead,” he said slowly, watching as Laura Hale
took a few slow, calculating steps toward him.
 
“Who are you?” she questioned, her voice holding a slight edge to it that could
only come from years of fighting. She looked rather well, for being dead,
Stiles thought; a little dirty and in desperate need of a shower, but otherwise
good. “And why do you smell like my brother?”
 
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
“Wait, what are you saying?” questioned Scott, holding back his want to whine
as he, the other betas, Derek, the Winchesters, Castiel, Chris, Allison, and
Dr. Deaton all stood around the back room in the animal clinic.
 
“Dad you shot him?” Allison said, panic in her rising voice as she wrung her
hands together in front of her; and, Chris had the decency to look ashamed,
even though everyone was well aware of the fact that that he had only done what
he thought would be helpful. “We have to get him back.”
 
“That's the plan,” stated Sam with a nod, ignoring Dean's grumble about how
they were wasting time.
 
Deaton nodded a little from his place in the shadows, taking a step forward. “I
can get you into purgatory easily enough,” the man stated, though everyone
heard the unvoiced “but” to that statement.
 
“Getting there is not the problem,” Castiel said, staring at a spot on the
ground as he clenched his fist absentmindedly, taking a deep breath when Dean
gently squeezed his shoulder. “It is getting back out.”
 
At that time, the sound of the front door opening reached their ears and the
werewolves in the room all tensed while Deaton started toward the door so that
he could tell whoever it was that the shop was closed, as the sign on the door
very well stated. However, before he could get to it, two people came into the
room, the shorter of the two looking around the room from under the brim of his
hat before he said in a gruff voice, “What did you manage to mess up now?
Idjits.”
 
“He did it,” Sam, Dean, and Castiel all stated as they pointed at each other,
before laughing slightly as they lowered their hands and everyone in the room
relaxed slightly. Dean cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair
before saying, “Sorry, reflex. Uh, this is Bobby, and Garth. They're friends of
ours.”
 
“Where's the runt?” asked Garth, all but bouncing on his toes with a smile. “I
brought his favorite, and...” The man's eyes narrowed a little as he looked
around the room at all the unknown, distraught faces. “What's going on?”
 
“Stiles is in purgatory,” Castiel stated, causing Garth's jaw to drop and Bobby
to freeze in place.
 
“Way to soften the blow, Cas,” grumbled Dean as he straightened his jacket a
little. “We're getting him back.”
 
Bobby made a sound in his throat, one that none of them could give name to but
put his agitation across quite well. “You're damn right you are,” scolded the
other man as he tipped his hat back on his head so that he could see Sam and
Dean better. “The kid is your responsibility. Now, how in the blazes did this
even happen? Idjits. The lot of you.”
 
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
“You're going to need better than that to protect yourself here, kid,” Laura
stated from her spot on the ground next to Stiles, watching him as he toyed
with the knife in his hand. “There's more than just werewolves in these woods.”
Stiles' brow furrowed a little as he looked up at her and she brushed her hair
out of her face. “Anything supernatural that dies finds itself locked in here.”
 
“I'm in purgatory?” replied Stiles, his voice slightly hoarse as he wet his
lips. “I'm not supernatural, though; then again, I think I was possessed.” His
brow furrowed as he tried to concentrate on the muddy memories he had from
before waking up in those woods. He could almost feel himself being shot, but
he did not know why, or why there was just a scar and not a wound. It was odd.
The entire place was odd, though. “Are there demons here?”
 
“Yes. They do not need to possess a body here, either. Though sometimes they
will. Are you marked?” She let her eyes travel along the teen's body, trying to
guess an age for him to know if he was even old enough to have the symbol inked
into his skin.
 
Stiles shook his head a little before exhaling a shaky breath. “No, but I know
what it looks like in detail. I could... I mean... it would probably be the
best thing, right?”
 
Laura nodded stiffly and Stiles returned the gesture before looking up at the
stars once again. A tense silence fell between them as they sat there,
listening for the sounds of any danger around them. Stiles was trying to think
back over everything he had ever read on purgatory after finding out that his
uncle had been there once. He was not sure how Dean had gotten out, but from
what he had read, there was not supposed to actually be a way out without
divine assistance. Maybe Cas was... Stiles let out a breath that was mixed with
a shaky laugh before he lay down, his knees still bent up. “What?” Laura
questioned him as she looked down at him.
 
“My friends are going to come get me, my uncles...” he replied with a nod.
 
“Then, they're foolish.”
 
“Your brother.”
 
A genuine smile formed on Laura’s face at the teen's statement and she laughed
softly, a sound that resembled her brother's. Laura nodded as she toyed with
her modified weapon, fingers brushing along the length of its wooden handle.
“My brother has never been known to fully think things through.” She wet her
split lips and sighed softly, tipping her head up to look at the sky. “You
better take care of him, Stilinski.”
 
Chapter End Notes
     ... I dunno. XD
***** Nine *****
Chapter Summary
     Purgatory.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Laura and Stiles traveled only during the day, and slept in shifts at night,
sometimes sitting up together all night instead. They traded stories of growing
up, and Stiles got to learn more about werewolves, and his boyfriend. “Derek's
always been a sucker for those cheesy romantic comedies,” Laura informed him on
his third night in purgatory as they sat next to a fire in the cave they had
found to shield them from the rain.
 
Stiles smiled at the information, ignoring the way it hurt the cut across his
left cheek that he had gotten from the two of them fighting some vampires. One
of them had recognized Stiles as being related to the Winchesters and asked if
he really thought Dean would return to purgatory to save him. Stiles responded
by beheading her. “If anything, Derek will find a way here,” Laura had told him
as she helped him up from where he had fallen to the ground. “Let's find a
river so you can wash that blood off.”
 
That had been before the rain moved in and night fell. “Neither Dean or Cas
will talk about their time here,” Stiles said as he picked some bark off the
stick in his hand that he had brought into the cave with him, glancing toward
the entrance before looking back to Laura. “Sam doesn't even really know what
they went through. It's like an unspoken agreement to not talk about it... or
Hell. They've both been, y'know? Cas pulled Dean out. I've never heard a real
explanation of what happened to Sam or how he had gotten out.” Laura's brow
furrowed in silent question, and Stiles absentmindedly wet his lips before
continuing to speak. “If anyone can get us out of here, it's Sam and Dean.”
 
“Us?” questioned Laura with a soft laugh, smirking in amusement.
 
“Yes, us. D'you really think I’d just leave you here after this?” Stiles shook
his head with a smirk of his own before reaching over to poke Laura with the
stick in his hand. “You're stuck with me, now.”
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“We're not sure it can bring back anyone that is not human,” Garth explained
with a frown, bouncing his knee as he sat at the table, reading over one of the
spells that he had found.
 
“I don't care,” replied Derek from his place in the shadowy corner of the room,
arms crossed over his chest with a frown set on his face. “If it gets him
home...”
 
“Stiles will care,” Sam stated with a frown. “He won't leave without everyone,
and if we make him, he'll only keep trying to get them back until he succeeds
or it destroys him.”
 
Dean smirked a little at his brother, leaning against one of the walls, and
said, “He's almost as stubborn as I am.”
 
“We'll keep looking,” stated Chris with a heavy sigh, running his fingers
through his hair. “There's got to be something we're missing.”
 
“There's too many of us to do it like before.” Dean sighed as he walked over to
the couch Sam was sitting on and dropped down onto it with a heavy sigh. He ran
his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out just how everything had
happened. He almost wished they could just go back to the fact that their
nephew was dating a werewolf; a werewolf who, to his credit, was doing whatever
he could to help them figure out how to get Stiles back. “This is such
bullshit. There's got to be something. I can't...” Dean stopped and took a deep
breath, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. “We promised his
father we'd take care of him.”
 
Bobby sighed from his place at the table with Garth, shaking his head a little
as he said, “John would understand. This--”
 
“It's been three days, Bobby! I barely survived in there and Stiles has not had
the training that I have.” Dean's voice started to raise in octave and he
cleared his throat before saying, “Purgatory is no walk in the park. Leviathan,
werewolves, windigos, shapeshifters, demons.”
 
“I think you're underestimating Stiles just a little,” Garth said with an
amused smirk from his seat, sharing a look with Bobby. “He's learned more than
you give him credit for.”
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Duck!” Laura called, making Stiles crouch down in just enough time to miss a
blade swinging at his head.
 
He spun around, sticking his leg out in order to knock out their attacker's
feet from underneath him. The thing fell to the ground and Laura sprung forward
to rip his throat out before it had a chance to move. Neither one was quite
sure what the thing was, but they watched as it died. Stiles used one of the
matches from a pack they had found to burn the body, just in case. “Too bad we
don't have salt,” Stiles grumbled, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt so that
they were past his elbows before he idly twirled the blade in his hand around,
watching the flames in front of them dance.
 
Laura reached over and gently squeezed Stiles' shoulder, making the teen flinch
a little. “Sorry, I forgot,” she replied, running her hand over Stiles'
shoulder as she carefully leeched some of the pain from him.
 
He had carved the anti-possession symbol into his shoulder, above where the
binding mark used to be and the bullet scar. It had not healed yet, but at
least they knew he was no longer in danger of being possessed. “Are there any
other nifty little symbols like that?” questioned Laura as she sat down on a
nearby rock, the two of them silently deciding to take a rest. They had been on
the go so much that even Laura was beginning to feel drained.
 
“The only ones I know are wards against angels.” Stiles lifted his shoulders in
a shrug, nodding a little at the same time. “I don't think we really have to
worry about them here, though.”
 
It was then that they heard a twig snapping somewhere to the right, making
Stiles face that direction immediately, knife extended in front of him while
Laura stood with her eyes flashing gold. “Stiles, I think it's time we run,”
she said softly, reaching out for his arm to tug him in the opposite direction,
but they both froze when a voice rang out from the trees in front of them.
 
“Now, how in the hell did you find yourself down here?” the person questioned,
and Laura still seemed ready to run but she stayed where she was when Stiles
smiled slightly just as a brunette young woman stepped into their clearing.
“Does Dean know you're running with wolves?”
 
“You know this woman?” Laura asked, tense as ever. She did not like this girl,
not at all. Something about her just seemed off.
 
Stiles nodded in answer to both their questions before he said, “Dean knows.
Laura, this is Meg. Meg, Laura.”
 
Meg's brow lifted a little as she smirked. “Laura Hale? Huh. I met your brother
Eli. Cool kid.”
 
“Eli! Is he okay?” Laura's heart rate sped up in slight fear, her grip
tightening on Stiles' arm just a little and she let out a heavy breath when Meg
slowly shook her head with a frown.
 
“I'm sorry.”
 
Laura nodded a little, reaching up to wipe at her eyes with her free hand.
Stiles did not even try to get Laura to let go. He could not even imagine how
she felt. Her family had died only to continue living in a place that many
would consider a hell, and then to have him actually die. It had to be painful.
“I hate to break the mood, but there are some vamps on my tail, so I shou--”
Meg started to say, but Stiles cut her off with a wave of his hand.
 
“You're coming with us,” Stiles insisted, nodding once. “Meg's... well, she's a
bitch, but she comes through in the end.”

Laura's brow rose a little and Meg just shrugged with a grin. “What can I say?
It's true.”
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
It was four in the morning. Almost everyone was asleep at the urging of others.
If they were going to be of any assistance to Stiles, they would need to be
rested. The house was quiet, and then suddenly, from the kitchen Garth started
shouting, “Guys! Shit, guys wake up! I found it. I found the way through.”
 
Dean practically fell off the couch, where he had fallen asleep between Cas and
Sam with his head on Cas' shoulder. “What?” he asked groggily while Sam
stretched and slowly stood up, rubbing his face. “What's happening?”
 
Garth then came rushing into the living room, where everyone was ambling toward
from wherever it had been that they were resting. He was reading and rereading
the passage in the book he was reading, a grin lighting up his face. “I just
found how we can get Stiles back.”
 
“Now, the only thing you idjits need to do is to not get yourselves killed,”
Bobby grumbled from where he sat on one of the chairs, rubbing his face tiredly
with one hand.
 
Dean said nothing as he walked over to a pre-packed duffel-bag sitting on the
floor to pull it up on the table and make sure they had everything they would
need to defend themselves. “Sammy, you ready?” Dean asked, double checking that
he had both silver and wolfsbane bullets. “Cas?”
 
“We're ready,” replied Cas for Sam, who simply nodded in response.
 
“I'm going, too,” Derek stated, ignoring Scott's protests that he should go
too. Stiles was his best friend, after all.
 
Dean was reluctant to let Derek go, but he eventually nodded. More force on
their side would not be a bad thing. He drew the line at the kid, though, and
shook his head as he said, “You stay here. There's enough of us to look out for
as it is.”
 
Scott huffed and glared, looking like he was about to argue, but Allison rested
a hand on Scott's arm and squeezed it gently. “We'll wait here, make sure we've
got anything we need for when you get back,” Allison stated with a nod that
Dean returned before he picked the bag up and shrugged it onto his shoulder.
 
“You have two days to find him, Dean,” Garth informed the man as he started to
gather the ingredients he needed to put into a little spell bag that he would
give to Dean to keep. “Everyone must be touching you or touching someone who is
in order for the portal to bring you back.”
 
“We'll go again if we have to,” insisted Sam with a nod, crossing his arms over
his chest. “We leave as soon as it's ready.”
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Ugh,” Stiles groaned, wiping blood off of his face as well as he could before
pushing the sleeves of his shirt up past his elbows once again. “Vampires.” The
teen scowled as he wiped his blade off on his jeans, looking over to where Meg
was relaxing against a tree, picking dirt out from under her nails with her own
blade. “Sometimes, I wish they just sparkled in the sun.”
 
Meg snorted and Laura rolled her eyes before tying the length of her hair back
with an elastic band she got off of one of the vampires. “We need to find a
place to make camp,” she insisted, glancing over to where the sun was setting.
It had been a long day and they were all tired. Well, Meg seemed more amused
than tired, but Stiles was used to it. Laura still did not like her.
 
“I know a place near-by,” Meg said as she pushed herself upright, storing her
blade in the top of her boot against her leg. “It's hidden, just out of
anyone's sight unless they're right on top of us, and by then it's too late for
them.” The demon's eyes narrowed after a moment as she watched Stiles, who
winced a little as he walked, acting too much like someone who was trying to
hide an injury. “You okay there, kid?”
 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Stiles insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Who
wouldn't be sore after this shit? Let's just find a camping spot like
yesterday.” Laura watched him for a moment, trying to judge for any major
injuries. The smell of blood was too strong and too constant in Purgatory for
her to really distinguish if there was a wound or not that they should be
worrying about. Stiles was pale, but they all were. After Meg's question toward
the teen, however, she was going to watch him more closely, just in case.
 
“I'll take first watch,” he stated after they'd settled down and built a small
fire. Neither one protested, and both girls took the chance to rest for a few
hours. Stiles sat there, toying with the blade that he had with him, the one
that Dean had given him ages ago, while keeping an eye on the world around
them, making sure that no one was going to try to sneak up on them in the dark.
 
The teen waited until he was sure both Meg and Laura were asleep before he
slowly lifted up his shirt on the left side to see where there was a large cut
along his side. It went fairly deep and Stiles had a make-shift bandage on it,
but even that had blood on it. He needed to change the bandage without alerting
either of the two females. They did not need to know how bad it was. Stiles was
fairly sure that it was starting to get infected; but, they could not really
care for it there besides rinsing it with water. Stiles would be fine. He had
to be.
 
Meanwhile, somewhere in the distance, Derek, Dean, Cas, and Sam all appeared in
an odd gust of wind. They were outside of Laura’s range of senses, and much too
far for Derek to find either of them, not that he even began to consider the
fact that some of his family may be there. “Should we split up?” Sam
questioned, looking around the dense, dark woods around them.
 
“No,” replied Dean, shifting the bag on his shoulder while looking around as
well. “We'll fan out but stay going in the same direction. “We're more likely
to find something that way. Ca--” Dean broke off with a sigh when he turned to
see that Castiel was already gone. “Wolf-boy, keep your senses up.”
 
Derek rolled his eyes, but bit back any want to response as they started
walking. Sam moved to walk to Dean's right, and Derek to his left. They all
walked in the same general direction, toward where the other three were keeping
their camp. “Stiles,” Laura said softly with a yawn as she got up, “get sleep.”
She stretched a little, placing her hands on the small of her back while
arching it a little to try to get it to pop.
 
“Yeah, okay,” replied Stiles with a soft sigh as he nodded. He then shifted
around enough to lay on his side, folding his arm underneath his head to use as
a pillow. It was as he was lying there that Laura realized just how pale the
teen really was. There were incredibly dark circles under his eyes and he had
lost a lot of weight.
 
Laura had not even known him all that long and it worried her. She was sure
that her brother would be ten times more worried. She idly rubbed her forearms,
looking off toward the west, unknowingly toward where her brother was. She was
sure that he would be coming for Stiles; the only question was if he would be
there in time. Laura frowned a little as she looked over to the teen. “Please,
get here in time,” she mumbled to herself, sighing softly.
 
“He's getting worse,” Meg said after a moment, making Laura jump before looking
over to where the demon was lying. Laura’s brow rose and Meg nodded over to
where Stiles was sleeping, his brow furrowed. “How long has he been hurt?”
 
“I don't know,” Laura answered honestly with a shake of her head, wetting her
lips absentmindedly. “Things are... crazy here and I can't... I couldn't keep
up with everything.”
 
Meg lifted her shoulders in a shrug, turning to sit up while watching the
werewolf pace their camp. “You're not his babysitter. He's a Winchester, he'll
pull through. They always do, the little shits.”
 
Laura chuckled a little, shaking her head before smirking a little. “Y'know,
for a demon, you're not so bad,” Laura stated, “and if the Winchesters like
you...”
 
The demon laughed with a smirk of her own. “I've proved useful, anyway.”
 
Their smirks faded from their faces and both women found their attention drawn
over to where Stiles was when the teen started coughing in his sleep. Meg's
brow furrowed and she frowned a little as she watched Stiles before she looked
up at Laura. He could not fake it in his sleep, and neither one of them were
sure what to do. Medication was not a thing in Purgatory, and if Stiles got
sick it put them all in danger.
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
“Stiles, wake up,” Meg said, shaking his arm to wake him up around dawn. Stiles
simply groaned a little and turned over, but he didn't wake up. “Stiles!” The
demon looked over to Laura, who steadied her stance, watching the horizon to
the left. There were vampires and a few werewolves coming. “He's not waking up;
he's breathing, but...”
 
“We've got company,” stated Laura in response, glancing over her shoulder to
where Meg was crouched down next to Stiles.
 
“Friendlies?”
 
Laura laughed at that, her brow rising with an amused smirk. “My, what optimism
you have.”
 
Meg rolled her eyes and attempted to wake Stiles one more time. “I'm kicking
your ass when we get you home,” she grumbled before standing and tugging her
blade out of the top of her boot, standing next to Laura. “How many?”
 
“Several. They might not all make it to us, turning on one another the entire
way.” Laura was watching the world in front of them so intently that she did
not realize others were behind them until a twig snapped and she spun quickly
to face the others with a flash of yellow eyes and a low growl. A shot rang out
before Laura could spring to action and she froze, her face displaying complete
shock before she realized what happened. The beta looked toward her shoulder
where a through-and-through bullet wound was slowly starting to heal. “You shot
me, you asshole!”
 
“Laura?” Derek asked from somewhere off to her right before he came rushing
over to the camp site. He glared over at Dean, who seemed completely
unapologetic for his actions.
 
“Silver doesn't do shit to me, hunter.” Laura narrowed her eyes at Dean before
gesturing to Stiles. “I believe you're looking for him.” As much as she would
enjoy a family reunion with Derek, they did not have the time. “Focus, Derek.
We've got company nearly on top of us.”
 
“Meg?” questioned Sam as he came jogging up from where he had been walking,
surprised to see the familiar face in the bunch. His heart dropped when he
spotted his nephew lying there, and he knew Derek’s focus was on the same
thing.
 
“Hey, there, moose-boy. We'll get him outta here, just focus on our enemies
first,” she replied, nodding a little before turning to where she could see the
werewolves charging through the trees. “Where'd the vamps go?”
 
“Trees.” Laura’s gaze was on the vampires using the trees as a way to travel.
It was terrifying, seeing them leap from one to the next; but, that would not
stop her from taking them all out. Stiles groaned somewhere behind her, but his
heart rate remained the same. Laura let out a heavy breath and steadied her
stance even more. The battle was only about to begin.
Chapter End Notes
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