Chance

Deucalion’s senses were assaulted by the stench of grief rolling off this curious boy, the boy who knew about werewolves and had tried to poison him.
The boy was experiencing acute trauma from torn pack bonds and dealing badly with it.

Work Text:

Beacon Hills had a few different libraries scattered all around town. There was the large one near the main road leading to the high school, which was also the most visited one in town due to being easily accessible.

However there were other, smaller community-run libraries near the outskirts on each side of the town. They held a smaller selection of books, most of which were fiction novels, but they were preferred by those who seek a place away from home to study at night or in the evening.

The selling point for those libraries was that they were open 24/7 all year around, and they were only open due to the trust within the communities that the books would not be stolen. Of course, once in a while, something would get nicked, but it wouldn’t take long before someone replaced it with a copy or something similar.

One of those libraries was only a couple of blocks away from Stiles’ home, and it was by far his favorite place to go. While most days he was okay with studying at home, sometimes the four walls of his room were too enclosed for him, chasing him out in search of the illusion of freedom at 2 AM.

The library provided that. Stiles could just stroll in, and there was likely to be no one else around, and he could work surrounded by mountains of books, knowing that he wasn’t going to be disturbed by anything.

His father knew well enough where he went those nights and had long since learned not to bother Stiles when the wanderlust suddenly hit him.

It was better than Stiles going clubbing secretly.

Tonight Stiles just needed to unwind a little, get away from the supernatural shitshow that his life had become as of late. He had learned earlier today that there had been a pack meeting, that there had been frequent pack meetings, that he wasn’t invited to because he was a fragile human.

One who, as Derek apparently said, should not be dragged into the life and thus they should keep him out of it. Stiles hadn’t gotten a word in himself, hadn’t been able to scream at Derek that he had walked into this life with his eyes wide open once he figured out what was going on with Scott.

No, in all effect, Stiles had been kicked out of his little group of friends. Sure, they still hung out at school - or at least they tried to hang out with him - but Stiles could feel the awkward energy in the air. There were now supernatural secrets that Derek, their Alpha, had told them to keep from Stiles.

He was sure that Derek didn’t really comprehend how fully he had just destroyed every part of Stiles’ social life, or really any life outside of school and doing homework.

So no one could blame Stiles for just checking out for the night, going to a place that gave him peace and quiet. Well, not that there was anyone to blame him any longer.

Stiles was so lost in his thoughts that for an embarrassingly long amount of time, he didn’t realize that there was someone else in the library tonight.

He only saw the other man when he was standing in front of one of the bookcases that were filled to overflowing with sci-fi. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement, and when he turned his head a little he could see the profile of a man silently reading what looked like one of the few braille books in the library.

The man’s long fingers were slowly moving across the page, reaching for a steaming cup of tea when he reached the end of the page.

Stiles was about to turn back to his books, all for ignoring the unexpected stranger, when the scars peeking out from beneath the man’s sunglasses caught his attention, and he froze.

How was it that not long after he gets unceremoniously kicked out of the pack, he runs across the one Werewolf Derek deigned to warn him about before shutting up around him? How was it that, where no one else had spotted any members of the Alpha pack yet - not that Stiles had been looking, of course not - Stiles just happened to run into the leader, Deucalion himself?

He made a grasp for his cellphone but aborted the movement half-way when he realized that neither his texts nor his calls would be answered.

Right. Play ignore the human. Derek managed to get him in deep shit even when he was attempting, rather badly, to keep him out of it.

He could just walk out. Ignore the reading Alpha and walk out the front door, pretend he hadn’t seen anyone.

Or-

Stiles fiddled with the small test-tube of Mountain Ash he had in his pocket, one he had nicked off of Deaton a week ago just in case. He was pretty sure Deaton knew he had stolen it, but the vet had been one of the few protesting Derek’s decision - silent though the protest was. So he had looked the other way for once and ‘accidentally’ left the cabinet to his more supernatural supplies unlocked one night.

He wasn’t sure what ingesting Mountain Ash would do to a Werewolf, but he had seen what it had done to Gerard after he had been bitten. And he knew that Mountain Ash could repel werewolves, so he was banking on the hope that it might also poison them.

There was a chance that he was panicking a little and not thinking things through.

This was only proven when on his pass by the table, when he thought the wolf was facing away, Stiles suddenly found his wrist locked in a vice-like grip. Sharp nails were pressing against the skin of the inside of his wrist, only just not breaking the skin.

Red eyes were glowing at Stiles from behind dark sunglasses, lips pulled back a little as a low, warning growl rumbled through the empty space.

The library suddenly felt a lot smaller than when Stiles had first entered it.

“Did you just try to poison me?”

“...Maybe.”

Because what did he have to lose? Unlike what Derek claimed, the Alpha pack weren’t

just a danger to the supernatural, they were a danger to everyone if they really were as ruthless as he said they were.

And Stiles wasn’t stupid enough to lie to an Alpha Werewolf whose entire focus was on him and who had a bone-grindingly tight grip on his wrist.

Blinking against the tears of pain that were welling up in his eyes - he swore he could feel his bones actually grinding against each other - Stiles noticed a little belatedly that the Alpha was holding out his other hand, palm up.

Right underneath Stiles’ hand trapped hand, which was still somehow holding the vial. Stiles couldn’t help but flinch a little at the sudden movement, before carefully loosening his grip a little, dropping the vial into the open hand that was held up to him.

He was rewarded, if you could even put it like that, by the grip on his wrist loosening enough that he was no longer in pain.

“Do you know what this is, boy?”

Blinking slowly, Stiles tried to gather his thoughts at the remarkable lack of throat-ripping happening, before he let out a yelp of surprise as he was pulled onto the Werewolf’s lap. The second he was seated, Deucalion wrapped one arm tight around his waist, a very clear sign that he wasn’t going to be allowed off.

For a long moment, Stiles thought about trying to get off anyway but decided against it. The only thing that would accomplish was a possible injury to himself.

“...Mountain Ash.”

“Yes, it is. And did you know what would happen if you managed to get it in my tea?”

Why wasn’t the Alpha just ripping out his throat? Why was he talking to Stiles, instead of just getting it over with? It wasn’t like he was really worth keeping around, not even for any information, as Derek had made very clear.

A pang of hurt shot through him at the thought of his ex-pack, before he quickly shut that down again.

Deucalion’s senses were assaulted by the stench of grief rolling off this curious boy, the boy who knew about werewolves and had tried to poison him. The scent was one that had a particular feel to it, one all of his pack had felt in the past.

The boy was experiencing acute trauma from torn pack bonds and dealing badly with it. Badly enough that he had apparently decided that his rather suicidal move just moments ago was a viable move.

It might be worth keeping the boy alive instead of killing him after he had gotten a satisfactory explanation, after all.

“I’m not sure. I thought maybe the same that happened to Gerard. He started vomiting up black goo and bleeding the black goo from his orifices until he died. I guessed-well since you can’t cross Mountain Ash lines…”

Though the boy’s short, stuttered explanation answered his first question, it raised many others. But no matter.

“If you had succeeded, darling, you would have killed me.”

“And because it didn’t, you’re going to kill me?”

Deucalion wasn’t sure the boy was aware just how uncaring he sounded about that prospect, how much the broken pack bonds were affecting him and quite likely his decision-making skills.

“I would have, but then I realized something. You’re grieving, darling. I can scent it all around you. You’re grieving the loss of a pack. And not just any loss, you’re grieving the breaking your bonds.”

Deucalion sighed as he felt the boy tense on his lap, pulling him more securely towards himself in a grip that was no longer warning him to stay put, but designed to offer at least a little bit of comfort.

“You poor boy, what did they do to you?”

Stiles wouldn't have been able to stop the whimper that escaped him at the question if he wanted to, and he simply chose to close his eyes as a sob was ripped from his throat, tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Oh darling.” Deucalion frowned behind the boy's back where it couldn't be seen, more than a little displeased by the horrid treatment of the boy by his previous pack.

“Come here, there you go, it'll be alright now.”

Deucalion let a soothing purr rumble through him as he pulled the broken boy closer to his chest. It was a sound werewolves often made when with their young or with a wounded packmate, meant to reassure and soothe them.

With one arm still wrapped around the boy's waist, Deucalion gently laid his free hand over the fragile neck, letting out a satisfied rumble as the boy tilted his head back immediately, automatically.

The Hale Alpha, because who else could it really be, didn't know just what a gem he had cast aside. The boy was so easily submitting to an Alpha, in such a natural Werewolf way without even being one, that Deucalion wondered just how anyone could see anything but pure potential in him.

Now, said potential was nearly completely ripped along with his torn pack bonds.

It was a shameful mistake, but one that was fixable.

And aside from that, Deucalion wasn't going to lose out on that potential, the small taste of loyalty even after he'd been cast aside, the sweet unintentional trust given him by baring his neck to a dangerous Alpha, knowing that he might get his throat ripped out.

A part of him probably hoping for it.

Deucalion didn't leave the boy waiting and guessing. His sobs had barely softened to gasping hiccups when Deucalion clasped the boy's jaw in his hand and turned his head away.

He didn't give him any time to tense as he dropped fang, burying his teeth deep in the junction between neck and throat.

Deucalion kept the bite as gentle as he could with it still being a bite but wasn't surprised when the boy let out a shriek of surprised pain. A shriek which trailed off into a pained whine as Deucalion started drawing out his pain even as he retracted his fangs.

Studying the bite, which sat a stark red against pale skin dotted with moles, Deucalion’s lips twitched a little in satisfaction when no scent of a failed bite reached him.

It was usually made clear pretty quickly when a bite hadn't taken, and unless the bite smelled rotten immediately after the bite, it usually took.

"You...why did you…?” The boy trailed off with a whimper of pain, though he'd still gotten his question across. It caused Deucalion to start pulling the boy's - his boy, his , he should probably get a name soon - pain again, getting a relieved sigh from his beta.

His. His .

“You’re broken, darling. Your pack bonds have been ravaged, and that will eventually affect you as much as it would a wolf. I simply wish to keep you from shattering, give you a place where you can recover and belong.”

Instead of answering, Stiles leaned back, burrowing back into Deucalion’s chest as the bite on his shoulder throbbed painfully.

Deucalion took his silence as submission, as an acceptance of his words, and tightened his arms a little more around the boy. He could already feel a small tendril of a pack bond starting to form, one that would tie them together for the rest of their lives.

It would take a while before Stiles would be able to feel the bond himself - the turning process could take up to a full 24 hours - and it would probably take longer for the boy to accept the bond. But that didn’t matter. They were tied now, as an Alpha and his Bitten.

"Don't worry, dear. I take care of that which belongs to me. I’ll make sure you're well taken care of within your new pack.”

“Deucalion?”

The Alpha in question tilted his head as he was addressed, but he didn’t take his attention away from where he was monitoring the swift change he could feel and hear coursing through the boy.

After he’d bitten him, the poor thing had collapsed, probably from a combination of stress, sleeplessness, the bite and an overload of emotions. Deucalion had carefully picked him up to bring him back to his pack’s new home, and throughout the entire journey, the boy had not once awakened.

So when he had gotten home, he’d immediately tucked the boy into his own bed, setting aside the boy’s bag which Deucalion had taken with him at the last moment.

As Deucalion remembered that a rather stumped Ennis was loitering in the doorway to his bedroom, he realized that he should send out his pack soon to gather some information on his beta. Especially for possible family of his boy. They would need to be informed if they weren’t yet, and... convinced not to attempt to take his boy away from him.

That would not end well for anyone.

“Deuc? Who is…” Ennis trailed off, probably not knowing how to best question the appearance of a strange, sleeping boy in their home without unintentionally insulting Deucalion.

“Ennis, this is my beta. Could you perhaps take a look through his bag for me?” The emotions coursing through Deucalion as he mentioned the restlessly sleeping boy caused his scent to soften and sweeten more than Ennis had ever noticed it to be in the past years, and just for that he relaxed a little. Anyone that could potentially heal the hole left in any one of their chests after the massacre of their packs would be a blessing.

For Deucalion more so, as while he was the acting Alpha of a pack of Alphas, it also served as a daily reminder that he had no true beta bonds. They chose to be subservient to Deucalion, they chose to be a pack, but it had taken rituals for them to actually form pack bonds with each other.

While the bonds were just as real as any other, they were still not as natural as a true pack bond that formed because of a bite.

Grabbing the unfamiliar bag that was on the ground beside the bed, Ennis rummaged through it to find any form of ID. Deucalion hummed softly as he heard Ennis unzip something, and he didn’t have to wait much longer to finally get a name.

“Mies-Miez- Well, I can’t really pronounce his legal first name. But his student ID says his name is Stiles Stilinski”

The name rang a bell that was a little worrisome.

“Stilinski is the name of the local sheriff, Deuc.” And catching the attention of local law enforcement was something they actively tried to prevent. “Do you want us to go talk to him?”

Deucalion frowned thoughtfully, but before he could respond, his beta - Stiles - twitched in his sleep, a noise of distress coming from him as he thrashed against the tucked in covers.

“Shh shh, darling, it’s alright, you’re safe now.” Deucalion hummed softly, carding a hand through Stiles’ hair as he let out a soothing rumble, listening as Stiles settled back down after the soothing attention from his Alpha.

Ennis retracted his previous assessment with a slow blink. Never mind a beta bond, this one might run deeper if Deucalion’s attention was anything to go by. Kali would want to know about this as soon as possible. Protective measures for Stiles would have to be set as soon as possible.

And the twins would have to be warned against roughing about with Stiles, Ennis thought with a wince. If Deucalion was forming the bond Ennis thought he was, then their Alpha was going to be overprotective of the boy.

“No,” Deucalion finally answered Ennis’ question after Stiles had settled back down into a more peaceful sleep again, “bring him here. We will inform him of his son and the ravaging of his bonds by the Hale pack, and let him come to a conclusion.”

Ennis’ face froze, horrified at the clear implications.

“Ravaged? He had bonds to the Hale pack?”

“And they were torn apart.” Deucalion’s sharp teeth were visible as he sneered, hate swirling in his eyes. “My boy tried to poison me out of a last cry for help, still holding loyalty to a pack who cast him out so cruelly. They will pay for hurting what’s mine, Ennis.”

“Poison?”

Deucalion nodded but didn’t seem to be concerned. Well, not concerned for himself at least.

“Yes, but he was leaking emotions all over the place. You can feel him already, can’t you? Look at his bonds - well, what little is left of them.”

And Ennis did feel the bond which was still forming, solidifying next to the rest of his bonds. It was the reason he had sought out Deucalion in the first place, wondering whether his chosen Alpha knew about this bond.

Ennis only took a peek at the imprint of what were once other bonds attached to Stiles’ bond, before flinching away. Because they reminded him too much of his own frayed and torn bonds. Only his were that way because a Hunter had killed his pack, not because he’d been cast out.

“ Why ?” Why would an Alpha so cruelly cast out a human , one who couldn’t go Omega, one who was too young to have done something so wrong that he deserved to be cast out?

No pack ever cast out a member lightly. Not unless they wanted the rest of the community to come after them, hard. There were very few reasons to kick someone out, and murder wasn’t even a good enough reason most of the time.

And Ennis doubted this slip of a boy had done anything even remotely close to that.

“I do not know yet, but I intend to figure it out. As of now, the Hale pack is no longer being observed, it’s being judged.”

Well, that wasn’t good for the Hale Alpha. Ennis felt no pity for him though, not if he was apparently capable of cruelty like this.

“I’ll inform Kali and the twins, and Kali will get the sheriff. Should we explain to the sheriff so you can stay up here?”

“No, that’s quite alright. I’ll be downstairs for a chat with my darling’s father, but I will be here when he awakens.”

“Of course.” That was what Ennis had expected.

Casting a last look at the boy who would soon be a werewolf, a pack member, Ennis frowned a little again at seeing his pale features and the bags beneath his eyes, taking in the too thin wrist peeking out from beneath the blanket.

Then he turned around and left the room, leaving his Alpha to watch over Stiles and going to find the rest of the pack.

Ennis hoped that the boy’s father would be reasonable so that he didn’t have to lose more than he had already lost. Because no matter what, they were keeping Stiles. Perhaps if they could at the very least make acquaintances with the sheriff, they would get to keep the boy with a little less protest on his part.

It was time to appeal to all the fatherly love and concern the sheriff had, and hopefully get him on their, and his son’s, side.

Stiles woke slowly, fighting against the feeling of waking up as he burrowed himself deep into the incredibly soft sheets he was laying on.

Blinking awake, Stiles frowned a little at the feeling that he should be remembering something.

But the sheets were very soft, and Stiles hadn't felt this rested in a very long time.

That tipped him off, and the memory of all that happened last night flooded his mind, causing him to sit up suddenly, a hand flying to the tender skin of his neck.

He had been bitten last night.

“Settle down, darling.” A deep, soothing voice spoke up from beside him, and Stiles turned a little, eyes wide as he stared at the Alpha who bit him, his Alpha . Coincidentally also the Alpha he had attempted to poison.

Hearing Stiles’ heartbeat rising because of mounting panic and confusion over what he was remembering and feeling, Deucalion reached over and gently pushed Stiles back, manipulating his body until the new Beta was laying down again.

“What is-” Stiles cut himself off as Deucalion’s hand settled on the side of his throat, where he had been bitten, and he found himself leaning into the large hand with a confused whimper.

“Shh darling, it’s alright. You will not come to any harm here, I promise you.”

As reassuring as Stiles was sure it was meant to sound, the confusion and panic were still very much at the forefront of his mind. Aside from the feelings he now seemed to have for this Alpha.

No, that sounded wrong, even in his head.

His Alpha?

That sounded right, resonated with something within him, made the wolf in the back of his mind let out a satisfied rumbling noise before settling down again.

His Alpha ?

“I don’t understand.” Is what finally came out in a soft whisper, instead of the panicking his brain wanted to do. That didn’t make it less true though. He didn’t understand, he understood none of it.

He was feeling things he didn’t know how to explain, he was hurting bad inside, hurting in a mental way that he had no explanation for at all. He didn’t understand why his Alpha was crawling on top of the bed with him until he was sitting with his back to the headboard.

And while he couldn’t help but lean into the hand which started to slowly card through his hair, Stiles just didn’t understand.

Luckily, Deucalion seemed to understand, picking up on one of the feelings that would be confusing his beta.

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll explain everything to you. I’ll make sure to teach you whatever you want and need to know.”

“But I don’t understand.” Stiles pleaded, nails unintentionally extending into claws and digging into Deucalion’s thigh as he looked up at his Alpha. Deucalion didn’t even flinch at the pointy nails entering the meat of his thigh, and instead just gently covered his boy’s hand with one of his own.

The skin to skin touch startled Stiles a little, and his claws retracted without a second thought. But before he could pull his hand back, Deucalion curled his fingers through Stiles’, gently holding his hand. Just a small, reassuring gesture that had Stiles breathe a little easier. A little more relaxed.

“It’s quite simple, darling.” Deucalion muttered, pulling Stiles up a little until the boy could rest his head on his lap, before continuing to card his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “You are pack. Neither I nor your new packmates will hurt you, ever . We’ll care for you, we’ll listen to you, and we’ll be here for you, no matter what. That’s what pack does, darling, and that’s what we will do.”

“But they-they didn’t.” Stiles stuttered, heart dropping and pulse rising as Deucalion let out a snarl at that.

At noticing his immediate reaction though, Deucalion reined in his anger again, pulling Stiles back up from where he had been trying to crawl away, a scent of fear curdling around him.

“I’m not angry at you, darling, I promise. I’m angry at the Hale pack, at the way they treated you. The way their so-called Alpha -” Deucalion damn near spit the word, “treated you, a packmate they had formed a pack bond with, is not just frowned upon. It’s dangerous. Alpha Derek Hale nearly killed you, Stiles, and he would have succeeded had you not cried out for help.”

Stiles’ brain almost audibly ground to a halt.

“What?”

“He broke your bonds, darling. So did the rest of the pack. A Werewolf can barely survive like that, our pack consists of the few exceptions, but for a human? You were well on your way to wasting away. And you were still loyal to them. You still tried to poison me, because you were still loyal to those who had broken their bonds with you. I could have killed you, it would have been considered a mercy killing in our world.”

Stiles tensed, but Deucalion continued before he could pull away, carding his hand through Stiles’ hair slowly, methodically.

“But you had potential, darling. You were done dirty, you were nearly destroyed, but you still stood strong. So I turned you, made you a part of my pack. Made you mine . And no one,” the silent snarl on Deucalion’s face spoke volumes of violence to be inflicted upon certain individuals, “hurts that which belongs to me.”

Stiles was - well, he was fairly sure that he shouldn’t feel as flattered, as loved, as he felt with him being claimed as if he was a piece of property. But he could feel the overprotectiveness that Deucalion was speaking with in the back of his mind, in the place where the pack bonds he could now recognize lay.

Could feel the truth of Deucalion’s words resonate within. And though a small part of him said to stand up for himself, to walk away from this, take his own path, he couldn’t. He hadn’t felt this welcomed in years , hadn’t felt this sort of unconditional love ever since - well, ever since his mom got sick if he was being honest with himself.

So he didn’t say anything. Didn’t do anything other than to bury his head deeper into Deucalion’s thigh, letting the warmth of his Alpha - the warmth of his unconditional acceptance - wrap around him like a blanket.

Deucalion didn’t move for a long time, just let Stiles soak in the warmth, let him think about Deucalion’s rather heavy but truthful words. He only spoke up again after another half hour, when Stiles had started to nod off a little bit.

Gently jostling Stiles, Deucalion smiled softly when his boy made a sleepy questioning noise.

“You’ll have plenty of time for more sleep later, darling. Right now, there’s someone waiting downstairs for you.”

Frowning a little, Stiles shot Deucalion a confused look. Hadn’t they just established that Stiles had been practically left for dead? Who could be waiting for him? Who was - oh .

“Dad? My - you brought - you told - dad ?”

But why would they - Derek had said so often that he couldn’t ever tell his dad, that he should keep the secret no matter what, no exceptions. His own uncle had tried to protest that, but Derek had been adamant.

The sheriff was to never find out . And Stiles, even as human as he was, could be a good beta. Even when it turned out his Alpha - previous Alpha - didn’t even want him.

“Of course we did. You’re a wolf now, darling. You’re pack. We are not in the habit of regularly splitting up our pack. So it was either bring in your father, or keep you apart. And it is not a hardship to bring him in for you, not at all.”

It shouldn’t be such a painful surprise anymore that Derek lied, that Derek didn’t care very much for Stiles himself. It shouldn’t. But it still was.

The contrast between Derek and this Alpha - his his his - was getting bigger by the second. And so far there were no points in Derek’s favor yet.

“How did he - can I see him?”

How did his dad react? Did he hate him now? Did he never want to see him again? Oh god, what if he was about to lose his dad as well? He couldn’t lose his dad! He couldn’t-

“Darling, calm down, you’re worrying too much.”

Both of Deucalion’s hands were resting on his cheeks, gently tilting his head back until he was looking Deucalion in the eyes, neck bared entirely to his Alpha. And instead of it feeling uncomfortable, of it feeling hunted and vulnerable, it soothed the panic warring in his mind.

Instead of focussing on what could be, on the uncertainties, all his attention was diverted to his Alpha, to his Alpha’s words.

“There you go, good boy.” Stiles valiantly ignored the flush that bloomed on his cheeks when he got called that particular endearment. “There’s nothing to worry about. Your father seems to be more than accepting, and has been wishing to see you when you are awake.”

Deucalion left out the fact that the sheriff shot Ennis in a reflex when he wolfed out, much to Kali’s amusement. Nor was he going to tell Stiles that he got shot as well when the sheriff found out that he was the one who bit Stiles.

He also was going to leave out the rather explicit curses the sheriff had let out upon hearing who exactly had been the cause of his only son deteriorating both mentally and physically.

At this point, Deucalion was sure that if they left the Hale pack’s judgment to the sheriff, there would be no Hale pack left at the end.

The moment Deucalion’s words registered in Stiles’ mind, he jumped up out of bed in a hurry, stumbling a little as his still sleeping legs threatened to collapse beneath him. The only thing keeping him from falling back down just as fast as he had stood up, was Deucalion appearing behind him, steadying him.

“There’s no need to be so hasty, darling.” Deucalion sounded a little amused as Stiles had to grasp onto his biceps to keep his balance, waiting for the feeling to come back into his legs. “Your father isn’t going anywhere. If you try to focus your hearing, you should be able to hear him talking to Kali.”

Stiles tilted his head a little bit, frowning in concentration as he tried to focus in on the soft background noise that was rather easily ignored. When he started to actively focus on it, however, the noise became clearer, until he could hear the voices floating up from the floor below them.

He could hear a woman talking to someone, a man answering her. He could hear something sizzling in a pan, while a fridge door was being shut. Then Stiles heard what was clearly his dad talking, the voice all too familiar to him.

It was a good thing that Deucalion let go of him when his scent changed a little, or he would have had his beta wrestling against his hold to get downstairs. The moment Stiles had recognized his dad’s voice, he was running downstairs.

Deucalion followed after him, walking just a little bit faster than usual to not let his beta get too far from him for longer than necessary. Not that he had anything or anyone to worry about in his pack’s house.

Still, even knowing this, Deucalion was glad to turn into the dining room where the pack was gathered for a breakfast that Ennis was preparing for them, glad to get near his Stiles again.

Lingering in the doorway, he let his eyes glow red so as to watch Stiles being held in a tight embrace by John, a man he had only recently gotten to know but who was still the father to his beta.

He wasn’t going to tell Stiles that he didn’t feel entirely comfortable with the idea of having to share the boy with his father, not at all. But he would fight to keep him here. Pack should be together, no matter what. Paternal rights didn’t actually rise above pack bonds.

No, he would fight for his beta, possibly against his beta’s wishes in this matter. And his pack would fight with him on this.

But they didn’t have to breach this issue right now, not at this moment. Not when Stiles was collapsing back into tears, searching for comfort with his father - a comfort Deucalion could not give him, not yet anyway.

As it turned out, Deucalion needn’t have worried.

When John, as they had been told to call him, left a few hours later for work, he had practically begged Deucalion to let Stiles stay with them, where he knew his son would be safe and out of reach of the Hale pack for now.

“He’s my pack, John. I’m afraid it will be close to impossible for me to let him live elsewhere. What it is that we need to discuss, are your living arrangements. Because of your relationship to Stiles, you are pack adjacent. We own most of the rest of the floors in this complex.”

John froze from where he had been pulling on his jacket, and slowly turned around to look at the Werewolf - and he was still having a bit of trouble processing all of that. Deucalion’s expression didn’t give anything away, it was blank after having just informed John that his son would be staying here.

Looking past the Alpha, John could see his son sitting on one of the cushy armchairs in the living room, huddled in a blanket Deucalion had wrapped around him while listening intently to whatever Ennis was talking to him about.

It pained him to admit it, even to himself, but he hadn’t seen Stiles smile like he was now in quite a while. He usually came back from school or visiting Scott - apparently code for supernatural shenanigans - looking tired, worn out and sick of everything.

He could still see the bags underneath Stiles’ eyes, see the tired way he was leaning against the back of his chair, but his son was finally relaxing. Finally in a place again where he could relax.

Christ.

John carded his hand through his hair in mild agitation, disappointed in himself once again. Disappointed that he hadn’t noticed all that Stiles had apparently been going through this past year, or even though he had, not actively finding out what was causing Stiles’ near depression.

Too obsessed with his work, just happy that Stiles managed to keep his grades up even though those of his friends seemed to be dropping steadily.

It didn’t feel right though, leaving Stiles with virtual strangers. But John was also painfully aware - had been told by the pack of werewolves and Stiles - that a pack was much like family, but at the same time also lot more. Family could forget each other, but a pack was linked and bound forever.

Unless - no, no thinking of the Hale pack for now.

“I need to be able to get up here, to your pack space.” John finally said, trying his best not to overthink the situation even more.

It got him a blink of surprise from his son’s Alpha - it still didn’t sound natural, but maybe the more often he thought it, the more normal it would sound - who clearly had expected more of a fight.

“That’s my son .” John tried to explain, before shaking his head a little. “No, that’s not - look, Blackwood-”

“Deucalion, please.”

“Deucalion then.” John acknowledged, before continuing with a small sigh. “Thing is, I haven’t seen that smile in quite a while. I haven’t managed to make him smile for weeks if not months. But here he is, coming alive after only a few hours of belonging somewhere again. I love my son, Deucalion. And if this is what he needs, what he wants, well. I’m not going to take that away from him.”

Deucalion considered the weary human before a soft giggle caused the both of them to look towards the living room, where Stiles was holding a hand over his mouth in an attempt to cover up his smile as he looked at where Kali had Aiden in a chokehold.

Ethan didn’t look concerned from where he was going to town on Kali’s plate of banana bread, and he was likely going to get the same treatment soon enough.

“Yea.” John choked a little, messing with his gun belt a bit before putting it on. “I haven’t seen that in a while.”

“We’ll make sure one of the apartments is ready for you. Whether you choose to live there or use it only a couple days at the time, that is up to you.” It wasn’t something too difficult for Deucalion to arrange, and it would probably make his beta feel more at home, more welcome. “And you would of course be welcome to join us up here, just as Stiles can come to visit you. I am offering you this because I do not want to tear the one support Stiles has left away from him.”

John looked at Deucalion consideringly for a bit, before giving a wry smile.

“But if it wouldn’t have been in Stiles’ best interest, you wouldn’t have given me this option.”

It wasn’t a question. Deucalion smiled sharply, tilting his head a little in a nod.

John had a feeling this was something he was going to have to get used to from now on. His son was a Werewolf now, part of a pack who had embraced him the second he turned, a pack which already seemed to love him unconditionally.

However, John was, as Deucalion put it, pack adjacent. Connected to the pack, but not a part of it. So Stiles would forever come first, no matter what.

Deucalion wasn’t a good man, even John could see that. He held a hate for Hunters that made John quietly wonder whether he shouldn’t go and warn the Argents to back off for their own safety. Deucalion was a wolf who cared for his pack, and if anything threatened his pack, he would take care of it, one way or the other.

Which had more often than not led to the death of a supernatural being or Hunter.

No, Deucalion wasn’t a good man, at least not in the eyes of the law. But he was already being good for Stiles, healing him - no matter how ironic that might sound, knowing he had bitten Stiles - and making him feel welcome.

“Fair enough. I’ll be going home tonight, and start getting ready for moving here. I’ll need about a month, I think, to settle everything with the house. After that, I should be able to move in, if that’s alright?”

“As I said, John, you’re welcome to the apartment whenever. If that’s in a month, it will still be ready for you.”

There was a truth in Deucalion’s words, and John knew that when he did finally come to live in the complex permanently, the apartment would be there for him.

Raising his voice a little so that Stiles would pick it up, as his son didn’t seem to be used to the newfound super hearing yet, John called out.

“I’m off to work, Stiles, I’ll be back tomorrow. Call or text me if you need anything, alright?”

After getting a shouted confirmation back, John nodded one last time at Deucalion, only to shake his head a little in bemusement at seeing that the Alpha was completely focused on his son again.

Yes, Stiles would be just fine.

“Deu - I mean, Alpha?”

Deucalion fingers paused from where they were trailing across the pages of an open braille book, putting it aside when he heard Stiles speak up from the armchair he had claimed. He had left his boy to bond a little with Ennis, who was the pack member Stiles had seemingly clamped onto, aside from himself.

Though how he had just been addressed would need to be mentioned. It wouldn’t do to have his little one be so formal with him.

“It is just Deucalion or Deuc to you, darling. There is no need for titles when we are with pack.”

Stiles seemed to latch onto that, heartbeat speeding up in excitement, clothing rustling a little as he leaned forward, curiosity lightening his scent Deucalion heard him take a breath in preparation, ready to ask whatever question was on the tip of his tongue. But then Stiles’ scent went sour abruptly, and his jaw clicked a little as it was closed again abruptly. Closing himself off for a reason only clear to himself.

Deucalion pursed his lips, before deciding to pursue it instead of letting whatever Stiles was thinking to fester.

“Darling, please don’t be afraid to speak up. You can talk about whatever you like here, and you can ask me - any of us - all the questions you want.”

“I did that though.” Biting the inside of his cheek, Stiles winced a little as he pierced the flesh before feeling it knitting back together. “Ow. Uhm, I did that with...well, whenever I asked Derek something he seemed really annoyed. Everyone except my dad or Peter always tells me I ask too many questions, and I don’t want to-”

A low snarl interrupted Stiles, and he looked to the side, blinking when he saw Kali being restrained by Ennis.

“Let me go, Ennis, let me - I need to kill that worthless son of a bitch, just let me-”

“Kali,” Deucalion interrupted her, even though he was as angry as Kali but managing to hide it a little bit better for now so as not to scare his boy, “now’s not the time. He’ll be judged, and this will definitely be taken into consideration, but now is not the time.”

Spitting out a string of what was clearly some exceptionally foul language in a foreign tongue, Kali pulled herself free from Ennis’s slackening grip. Huffing a little, she walked over to sit on the arm of Stiles’ chair, and promptly pulled his head back to rest on her thigh.

Ignoring the little yelp of surprise, she started to slowly card her fingers through his hair. The slow drag of her fingers across his scalp had a surprisingly relaxing effect on the both of them, and both Kali and Stiles could feel the tension that had been building up in them slowly fade a little.

Coincidentally, playing with Stiles’ hair was also an excellent way to scent a packmate. And their newest packmate didn’t smell nearly enough like them yet, something they would all be rectifying as soon as given a chance.

Deucalion considered the happiness that colored Stiles’ scent from where he was enjoying the head massage, unconsciously baring his neck to his pack in a show of pure trust, Deucalion stood up. Walking to three paces to the armchair, he dropped down to his knees in front of Stiles, whose heartbeat sped up in surprise.

The rest of his pack were staring as well, though being a little bit more subtle about it. Deucalion didn’t kneel for anyone .

“Darling, I want you to understand that we are not Derek Hale, nor do we have his odd conceptions of what a pack should or shouldn’t be. No,” Deucalion gently grabbed Stiles’ chin, tilting his head a little so that his boy could see the truth in his expression as he spoke, “look at me, darling. We are not your old pack, and we never will be. We won’t cast you out, we won’t ignore you when you speak to us or otherwise need us. And if you have a question, any questions at all, we will do our best to answer them. Do you understand?”

Stiles nodded a bit helplessly, visibly overwhelmed by the conviction in Deucalion’s voice, by the truth of his steady heartbeat.

“I’m afraid I need a verbal response for this one, darling. For my own peace of mind.”

“I-” Stiles looked at the others quickly, met only with soft smiles, before looking back down at Deucalion, “I understand. I’ll...I’ll try.”

Patting Stiles on a knee, Deucalion rose gracefully to his feet again, before moving to take a seat again. This time on the sofa a bit closer to Stiles,

“Then please, what were you about to ask before, when I mentioned there wasn’t a need for titles here?”

Stiles blinked at Deucalion for a couple of moments, before recalling exactly what he had been wanting to ask, and his eyes lit up in excitement, ready to actually get answers for once.

“Oh, oh uhm, I was wondering - well I wanted to know if there are times when I need to use titles? Considering you said that I don’t need to call you Alpha when we’re among pack, I assume it means that there are occasions I do need to call you Alpha? Are there rules for what titles I need to use and when? And what titles do I need to use for everyone else? Are they also Alpha or do I only call you Alpha because you’re the one who turned me?”

When Deucalion chuckled softly, Stiles stopped abruptly, flushing as he realized that he had just been listing off all the questions he had as they popped up in his mind.

Before he could feel even the slightest bit embarrassed though, Deucalion spoke up.

“Slow down a bit, little one, so that we can answer all your questions. The easiest place to start with would be to say that yes, there are times when you need to use titles. When we are in negotiations with another pack, for instance, it’ll be required to use a pack member their title, which can then be followed by either their first or their last name. In formal meetings with the Council - which will be a lesson for another day, darling,” Deucalion added when Stiles made an inquiring noise, “you will need to use titles in combination with last names. For us, that would be Alpha Blackwood for me, and Beta Blackwood for the rest. Then there is Kali as my Left Hand, whom you would call either Left Hand to the Alpha, or Beta, and Ennis as my Second, whom you would call either Second to the Alpha, or Beta.”

“Don’t worry,” Deucalion added when he sensed Stiles becoming a little overwhelmed at the mountain of information, “we’ll always go over procedures before any meetings. There is no need for you to remember it all, and no one would expect it of you. In any case, those situations don’t apply in the meetings we will be having with the Hale pack. These will be more informal due to their transgressions. You will not have to call your own pack by our titles, only the opposite pack. And even then, those rules will be quite loose because it seems that the Hale Alpha is discarding everything an Alpha is supposed to be.”

Stiles still felt a little overwhelmed, but the information he was getting was way too interesting to ask for a break and get some stuff to write it all down. He could always do that later, and if he forgot a detail or thought of another question, well.

He now had blanket permission to finally ask all the questions he’d been wanting to ask about werewolves and the supernatural in general.

For now, Stiles just leaned forward as far as Kali - whose fingers were still tangled with his hair - allowed, listening with interest as Deucalion continued talking, continued answering his plentiful questions.

The more time he spent with these strangers-but-not, new people but packmates and family, the more accepted Stiles felt. The easier it was for him to accept the enormous and abrupt changes his life had taken.

He was a Werewolf now. He had a pack who seemed to actually want and accept him. He got to keep his father, even though he had changed species.

Stiles felt more loved than he had in a very long time.

Stiles hadn’t expected to settle in all that smoothly, but he was surprised by how easy he found it to converse with any of his new packmates. The twins, Aiden and Ethan, were the same age as him and would be going to school with him when the holidays were over.

They assured him that they would be in his classes and act as a buffer between him and any of the Hale pack if they needed to. And though Stiles would like to be able to claim that that wouldn’t be needed, he knew better.

He had known Scott for years, and Stiles becoming a Werewolf and joining a ‘rival pack’ would be enough on Scott’s radar for him to pay attention to Stiles again.

It was a bitter thought, and one Stiles tried to avoid for however long he could.

Then there was Kali. She was the first Werewolf he had met who could actually lengthen the nails of her toes into claws, and use them in a fight - as she had shown in a spar with Ennis.

Aside from that, Kali was a bit of a taskmaster. She had immediately dragged Stiles down to the dojo with them when it apparently was time to spar and set him up with Ennis. Not to spar, not yet, but to get some control over his transformation.

So far, he had been able to flash fang, eyes, and claws, but not consciously, not yet. She had assured him that this wasn’t uncommon at all, that most newly turned werewolves took a bit of time to figure out their newly upgraded bodies.

But though Kali came over a bit strict and very much the down to business type, she also took her time to sit down with Stiles, to just talk about what was going through his head, listen to him when something was bothering him.

She also gave the best head massages.

Then, of course, there was Ennis. Ennis the mountain of a Werewolf with a resting ‘I rip out your throat’ face that put Derek’s eyebrows to shame. Ennis, the giant who loved to cook, and preferred to make elaborate meals in the evening while providing a rich breakfast and lunch for his pack during the day.

He couldn’t bake worth a damn, as evidenced by the cake sitting in the trash which could probably be used as an actual building brick, but Stiles was already ready to throw down for Ennis’ steak.

When it came to sparring, well. Stiles hadn’t expected for such a large man to move as nimbly as he did. While Kali sprang around the room like an acrobat and the twins acted like a battering ram, Ennis could just disappear in the battle. Somehow the giant managed to slink around the outsides of the sparring area, before getting a hit in from an unexpected corner.

Sparring matches between the pack, between his pack, were slightly terrifying to witness, even though Stiles knew that they weren’t hurting each other - and if one of them got hurt, it was by accident.

And then there was his Alpha. Deucalion. The man Derek had warned them about - had even warned him about before shutting him out. The Werewolf he had tried to poison, who had bitten him and taken him to his pack home.

Stiles had been there, on the edges, after Derek had bitten his betas. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and even Jackson. But Derek hadn’t been gentle with any of them, his training techniques had been downright terrible - breaking his betas’ bones?

Stiles had a feeling if he talked about that with Deucalion, his calm Alpha might actually pop a vein.

Because Deucalion wasn’t anything like that at all. He had been there when Stiles had woken up, he had been gentle when talking him down from multiple panic attacks ever since, had been open to giving whatever information Stiles was after. And, perhaps most importantly, hadn’t hesitated in showing his care for Stiles.

He was being cared for, just by virtue of being in his pack. He was wanted somewhere again, his presence was wanted, and Stiles found that if he had locked himself away in a room for too long, one of his packmates would come to look for him.

Because that was what pack did. Care, worry, and love.

He knew the pack - his pack - was dangerous. He knew that other packs feared their judgment, and through them the judgment of the Council. They had been very open in telling Stiles so.

He knew that his Alpha, in particular, was both feared and revered for his power. He should probably be warier than he was, but he couldn’t be. Couldn’t find it in himself to be, because Deucalion wasn’t like that.

Not with him.

His Alpha had only shown him love, had only cared for his well-being. Hell, he had brought in his dad for christ’s sake, because he didn’t want his new beta to lose his father.

Yea, there was no doubt about it. Stiles was certain that he could and would love this new family, this new pack his Alpha had brought him into, was offering him a place in.

Stiles’ musings were interrupted when the doorbell rang, and he tracked Deucalion’s movements as his Alpha stood to open the door.

He didn’t expect to hear a sudden snarl, before hearing a familiar voice groan as a body was slammed into the wall outside of the pack apartment.

“What do you think you’re doing here, Hale?”

Stiles was up and moving to the front door before Kali could stop him. Coming to a skidding stop next to Deucalion, Stiles squeaked when he was promptly pushed behind his Alpha until he was once again out of view from a rather blue-in-the-face Peter Hale.

“Stile-” Peter was cut off by Deucalion’s nails pressing into his throat, hand clenching even tighter against his neck. Leaning around his Alpha a little, though keeping his hands up against Deucalion’s back in an attempt to reassure the agitated Werewolf that he was still there, Stiles saw the surprise and relief flashing through Peter’s eyes, even as his airway was cut off.

That explained the one weak pack bond he had left from before being bitten.

“Deuc, he’s okay, he’s - Deuc.” Stiles stood up on his tiptoes, clumsily rubbing their cheeks together to reassure Deucalion that he was alright, and would be staying right where he was.

“Darling, he’s a Hale .” Deucalion answered, not retracting his claws from Peter’s neck even though the beta wolf was keeping his body limp - which might also be due to the lack of oxygen reaching his brain.

“I know, but he - he’s Peter. He is - I still feel him , Deuc. I feel him here.” Stiles tapped his chest, a little above his heart.

He jumped a little in surprise when Ennis’ hand came to rest on his head, flushing when he saw the understanding look he was being given.

“Are you certain, darling?” Even as he asked, Deucalion gentled his grip a little, just enough that Peter could take a gasping breath, fighting off the unconsciousness that had been creeping up on him.

“Yea, I-” Stiles shook his head a little, before resting his forehead against his Alpha’s back again, relaxing as he felt the bunched muscles lose a bit of their tenseness. “Peter wasn’t there when...when they - Peter wasn’t there.” Is what Stiles ended up saying, stuttering over the painful memory that was him being cast out.

At hearing Stiles’ voice break a little, Deucalion finally released Peter so he could turn around and drag Stiles into a hug. He gently pressed Stiles’ face to where his neck met his shoulder, letting out a soothing rumble when Stiles tried his best to hide his face, his feelings, his emotions.

“Let’s get you back inside, shall we, darling?”

“Can Peter come inside? Please?”

Deucalion tilted his head a little to focus on Peter and his reaction to the question, but his scent was nothing but worried and a little apprehensive. None of the wolf’s attention seemed to be on him, only on his boy. The wolf didn’t seem to be here to hurt Stiles, not if he was so easily ignoring the presence of five Alphas - none of whom were all too happy with any of the Hale pack and Hale pack adjacents - to make sure Stiles was alright.

It got him a bit of reluctant approval, enough for Deucalion to cave a little bit.

“He can come in.” Peter’s head snapped up, surprise and a little disbelief coloring his scent, clearly not having expected to be invited into the den of an Alpha who did not know him. Just because it was requested of him by - well, he didn’t know what Stiles was to Deucalion yet. But Stiles seemed to like the wolf, a little unsure but not apprehensive.

Peter was able to enter the apartment, only after Deucalion had led Stiles back inside and the twins had followed after them, leaving Kali to flank him with a nasty smirk on her face that promised pain if he overstepped to him invisible boundaries, and Ennis walking behind him, blocking his exit.

Sure, he had been invited in. But none of his movements were trusted in the least.

Thoughts were spinning in Peter’s head as he tried to figure out what hell was going on while he was being escorted inside.

How had the boy he had spent the better part of the night searching for ended up here, in the den of the Alpha Pack? And why was he seemingly such an important - guest? Fixture? Partner?

Peter just needed to know what was going on, needed to know why his pack bond with Stiles had recently changed a drastic amount. It had gone from nearly fading completely to a sudden bright but almost hesitant bond.

“Please, sit down.”

It didn’t sound like an offer really, and Peter sat down on the chair Deucalion had motioned to without further prompting. Still not taking his eyes off a fidgeting Stiles, watching as the boy sighed and relaxed a little as he was pulled on the sofa next to Deucalion and dragged into an embrace.

“Can I ask - Stiles, are you okay?”

Ignoring the way the twin Alphas were standing behind his chair, hands on the backrest perilously close to his throat, Peter watched with worried eyes as Stiles buried himself a little deeper into the Alpha of Alpha’s side.

“He’s quite alright,” Deucalion spoke up, voice soft but dangerous, a clear warning for Peter to not overstep. Not that he was all that sure how he could overstep when he didn’t know where the invisible boundaries lay. “I am just not sure why a Hale would care about my darling.”

“Why a Hale - Why shouldn’t I care?” Peter’s lips raised in a little snarl, eyes flashing.

That wasn’t much appreciated by Ennis and Kali - who were standing protectively on either side of the sofa Stiles and Deucalion were sitting up - as they flashed fang, eyes burning red in warning.

“Did you know, Peter?” Stiles soft voice broke through the tense standoff, and Peter let his shift fade away, frowning a little at Stiles in confusion. “Did you know they pushed me out of the pack?”

“They did what ?” Peter reared back, staring at Stiles with shock in his eyes, looking at the other wolves in the room for confirmation, finding only emotionless, unimpressed faces staring right back at him. “Why?”

Instead of answering, Stiles shrugged a little, though his scent soured considerably.

“It appears,” Deucalion spoke up even as he laid a hand across Stiles’ neck, caressing the tender skin there, “that the Alpha thought my little one to be weak. Your nephew ripped his pack bonds, and cast him out.”

Even though the retelling of what had happened was clearly bothering Stiles, who would much rather forget what Derek had so painfully done to him, the boy still relaxed as Deucalion kept a gentle grip around his neck.

To Peter, it looked an awful lot like Deucalion was intentionally leaving as much of his scent on Stiles as he could.

“When I found him at the library last night, he was still trying his best to be loyal to an Alpha who didn’t want him. So I took him in. Stiles is part of my pack now, Peter Hale.” Blind eyes glowed a bright red color as Deucalion spoke his next words, warning clear. “Any attempt to take him away from us will be met with extreme violence.”

“And what does Stiles think of this? Or does he not have a choice?” Peter’s self \-preservation had seemingly left the room because he found himself unable to keep his thoughts to himself. Even though he was aware that pissing off the Alpha pack was not a way to stay alive and in one piece.

“I like it here.”

Stiles’ voice broke through the silence that had covered the room the moment Peter made his accusation, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Lifting his head from where it had been resting on Deucalion’s shoulder, Stiles frowned a little in concentration. He hadn’t consciously tried to do it before, not yet, but he’d been the one to train Scott to control his nature, for the most part.

It just took a little concentration.

Peter’s eyes widened in shock when Stiles opened his eyes from where he had closed them to concentrate, staring unblinkingly at the brilliant gold colored eyes looking at him. That was an unexpected development.

“I like my Alpha.” Stiles continued, even as he kept his eyes alight, fangs peeking out from behind his lips as he spoke. “I like my pack. The bonds finally feel really good, and they told my dad. So please, Peter, don’t try to take them from me. Please?”

Was Stiles begging him not to interfere? Did the boy really think he had that much influence over him? Or even if he did, that he would take Stiles away from a place where he was so clearly already loved?

Peter would never. He liked the kid, had told him so on more than one occasion.

“I did say you’d make a terrific Werewolf.” Is what Peter finally settled on, and though the Alpha pack looked a little confused, wondering whether they should be worried, Stiles smiled.

It’s a carefree smile, wide and open. One that Peter hadn't ever truly seen, not around his nephew’s pack at least. The closest had been when one day, Peter had walked past a lunch café and seen Stiles and the sheriff laughing and talking over a meal.

He was not going to take this happiness away from the only teenager who was once part of Derek’s pack whom he actually liked .

“I’m sorry, Stiles.” Peter sighed a little, dragging a hand down his face. “I didn’t know that Derek was being so monumentally stupid. I didn’t think he would ever intentionally rip apart pack bonds, not after - not after how we lost most of ours. I’m sorry for not seeing it coming.”

And he was. Though Peter hadn’t been around all that much lately, having been busy trying to figure out if he could get his job back at the law firm he had been co-owner of before the fire, he now wished he’d been more involved in Derek’s pack. Maybe then, he’d have seen this coming and would have been able to find a way to save Stiles some grief.

As it stood now, Peter wasn’t sure how he was supposed to face his nephew, his Alpha - no matter how reluctant on both their parts - again.

“The upcoming meetings aren’t going to go well for Derek, are they, Alpha Blackwood?”

Peter asked, adding just a little formality to his wording as he tried to get a grip on the situation as it stood now, scrambling just a little to figure out what to do next.

Deucalion’s smile held way too many teeth and was not in any way reassuring.

“No, they are not. What Alpha Hale’s pack have done to Stiles is truly reprehensible, and as of now it is questionable whether he will be allowed to keep his Alpha power.”

Well. Peter couldn’t say he was surprised, really. After all, he knew - as Derek knew - just how sacred pack bonds were.

He would have to get working on a backup plan for himself, and soon.

----

John was packing away some of his wife’s crafts, gently placing an old but loved quilt in the bottom of the suitcase so her paintings wouldn’t be damaged, when the doorbell rang.

Placing the painting of a blooming bouquet he had been staring at for the past five minutes in the suitcase - it was a perfect copy of the bouquet his wife had been holding during their wedding - John stood and dusted off his knees, wincing when his back made a popping noise.

He was too old to be bending in awkward positions so often.

Approaching the front door, John wondered who would be coming to visit. His deputies never did on his days off, knowing how few days the sheriff took for himself, and instead chose to call if there was truly an emergency.

His son was being doted upon by a pack of werewolves - and wasn’t that a wake-up call? At least Stiles seemed to love the easy acceptance of the pack, thriving on the attention and love they were giving him.

It was why John could so easily leave his son with the blind Alpha and his pack.

Pulling open the door, John’s mind blanked a little.

Derek Hale was standing on his porch, brows furrowed as he looked to be in a bit of a pissy mood, hand raised as if he had just been about to ring the bell again.

An unnatural calm settled over John.

“What is it?”

Derek blinked, trying to shift his face into something more gentle and failing horribly. His eyebrows and murder gaze, and unfriendly body language, were all working against him. John was starting to see why Stiles had never really had something nice to say about Derek, the few times he had mentioned him.

“I’m looking for Stiles.”

Not even a question. John was going to actually strangle him.

“He’s not here.”

There was a short, uncomfortable silence. Derek shuffled a little, before speaking up again.

“Do you know when he’ll be home? Sir?” Derek added, remembering a little too late to be at least a little respectful.

“He is home.” Never let it be said that John didn’t know how to fuck with people.

Derek’s eyebrows drew together, looking both confused and angry. And a little bit like John imagined an angry puppy would look like if he were honest.

“Why are you looking for my son?” John interrupted Derek before the werewolf could even respond to that, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

John had to admit he was more than a little curious as to what excuse Derek was going to pull out of his ass to get around this question, because as far as he knew, John was still unaware of the supernatural.

“We are...having a night in with the...group-” Clearly struggling not to say pack, or pack meeting, “tonight.”

Derek seriously expected him to believe this. He barely refrained from rolling his eyes, but that didn’t stop him looking extremely unimpressed.

“Right. I doubt my son would willingly go to a - what did you call it? Night in? - with you. He doesn’t like you.” Derek looked a little like he’d been punched, but John didn’t stop talking. “And anyway, he already has other plans. For the rest of, well, possibly for the rest of his life. So no, you may not speak to my son. Now if you would be so kind as to get the hell off of my property?”

Derek swallowed whatever his retort was going to be when he saw the barely concealed anger in John’s eyes, and gave a slow nod, turning to walk back to his car.

He tilted his head a little when John spoke up again.

“Just so you and whatever clique you have know, Stiles recently switched phone numbers. So don’t try calling him either. He’ll take up contact with you if he wants to, and that is a big if.”

Shoulders hunched, Derek walked just a little faster back to his car. Which was good, because if the Alpha that had hurt his son had stayed any longer, John would have been tempted to either punch him or call his deputies on him and some of his open tickets.

When he was sure Derek was both out of sight and out of earshot, John called one of his new contacts.

“ Kali speaking. ”

“Hey, it’s John. I just had a visit from Derek Hale, asking to see Stiles.”

John was interrupted by a low, angry growl coming through the speaker, and he relaxed a little. Here, there was someone who so very obviously cared for his son, cared for his well being. And wanted to hurt whatever wanted to hurt him, of course.

“He wanted to invite Stiles over for a ‘night in’. I’ve told him that Stiles changed phone numbers and didn’t want to be visited, so he shouldn’t be going looking for Stiles, but…”

“ But he still might. ” Kali finished his thought, and John hummed softly. “ We’ll get Stiles a new phone and phone number. We really should have already done that. ”

Kali cursed a little before shouting at the twins to get on that.

“Just turn off his old phone for now, so they can’t reach him on there. I don’t want any of those people to try and talk to Stiles. Not right now, they’ll just make it worse.”

And they would. John was painfully aware of just how fragile his son was right now, how much he was clinging to the people who had shown him love and family so freely after he had been abandoned.

If Scott tried to reach out for Stiles now, it was likely that Stiles would go back into the shell he and Deucalion’s pack had worked so hard to drag him out of the last week.

John would do anything to prevent that progress from being undone. Anything at all.

“Why can’t I spar with one of you?”

Stiles was nervously wringing his hands, not looking up at his Alpha who had finally decided Stiles was rested up enough to carefully start training him. The noise around him died a little, and Stiles curled in on himself.

“Oh darling.” He heard Deucalion’s voice just a second before he was pulled into a tight hug, automatically relaxing as he fairly drowned in the comforting scent of his Alpha.

“They’re Alphas, Stiles.” Peter spoke up from the sidelines, having known that he would probably end up being Stiles’ heavily monitored sparring partner. “If they accidentally wound one another, they’ll heal. But if they wound you, it wouldn’t heal as fast, nor as painless as it would for them. If I were to draw blood, it would heal a lot faster, as it’d be a wound caused by another beta. It has nothing to do with not wanting to spar with you.” Peter hit the nail on the head. “And everything to do with them not wanting to hurt you.”

Stiles ducked his head a little, bumping it against Deucalion’s chest as a flush spread across his cheeks as he processed what Peter had just said.

“Oh…”

“We will teach you what we can, darling.” Deucalion spoke up, leaning back a little before ducking down to rub their cheeks together. “But we will not hurt you, no matter what happens. This is why Hale will spar with you, until you have decided that you would wish to be an Alpha as well.”

Stiles’ brain screeched to a halt, and Peter’s head shot up.

“What?”

“We’re an Alpha pack, darling.” Deucalion started gently. “And though I would love for nothing more than to keep you as my beta, I am aware that you might want to be an Alpha as well.”

“And if I don’t?” Stiles’ voice was soft, trembling a little bit as he waited for an answer, hoping that he wouldn’t be forced to make a particular decision.

“If you don’t, you’ll be my beta. No matter what happens, you’ll be mine .”

Though the possessive tone of voice was definitely noted by a sharp-eared Peter, who barely kept himself from visibly flinching at the dark possessiveness radiating off of the Alpha of Alphas, Stiles just listened to Deucalion’s heartbeat.

He was still learning how to control his wolfy senses, but under the tutelage of his new pack - and Peter, credit given where credit’s due - he was slowly learning just what to listen to.

And Deucalion’s heart was constant, a steady thumping right in front of him. There was no skip, not even a small stutter, when Deucalion spoke, and Stiles relaxed a little.

His Alpha didn’t lie. He’d be able to stay a beta and still be accepted.

“I don’t want to be an Alpha.” Stiles whispered softly even as he shyly wrapped his arms around his Alpha’s waist. Deucalion’s arms tightened around his back in response. “I just want to belong.”

Kali let out a strangled noise somewhere on the side, and if Stiles had looked over at that moment, he would have seen the pissed off look she aimed at Peter. Whose only crime at that moment was being related to Derek, but considering Derek wasn’t here for her to turn her ire to, Peter was the victim.

He smartly inched a little further away from the angry Alpha.

“You already belong, darling, and I am more than happy that you wish to stay my beta. I don’t believe I’ve said it yet, but welcome to the Blackwood pack, little one.”

Stiles jumped a little in surprise - inasmuch as Deucalion’s grip allowed him movement - when Ennis’ hand clasped down on his shoulder, the twins cuddling in close to him.

He met Kali’s eyes over Deucalion’s shoulders, grinning when she gave him a thumbs up from where she was still standing perilously close to a fidgeting Peter.

He should probably tell her to let up on Peter sometimes soon.

But seeing the usually smooth Hale look so flustered and terrified was the most amusement Stiles had had in days.

He’d give it another couple of days. Maybe.

For now, he was just content in drowning in the feelings of love, happiness and want coming over the pack bonds, relaxing in the realization that he was wanted just as he was, that he didn’t need to be more for them to welcome him into their midst.

Soon, they’d move to sparring. Soon.

They had postponed the meeting as long as they could. All their attention had been focused on their newest pack member, as it should be.

However, as a result, the Hale pack was becoming a bit paranoid, actively trying to break into places where they thought the Alpha pack might be hiding out. Their nervous habits were becoming a little obvious, and a couple of deputies had actually made some noise to the sheriff, seeing these kids attempting to sneak around at all kinds of odd hours.

So Deucalion finally set up a meeting.

Well, he actually sent the twins to set up a meeting, because the realization that he was going to come face to face with the Hale pack soon was causing Stiles quite a bit of stress. He’d actually already had a minor panic attack, just thinking of all the ways the meeting could go wrong.

On one hand, Stiles just wanted to get this over and done with, so he could finally move on with this new life he was building. On the other hand, getting it over and done with might be more difficult than it seemed, even though his pack tried to reassure him that they wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

But the date of the meeting had been set. The twins had returned with minor wounds - and Deucalion assured him as Stiles was fussing over his bemused packmates that Derek would be reprimanded at least for harming the messengers.

They were on their way to neutral ground now, some old bank that had been closed years ago after a robbery. Stiles was sitting in the backseat of one of the two black SUVs, being cuddled aggressively by his Alpha.

Deucalion was trying to get as much of his scent over Stiles as he could, to make sure there was no mistaking in who exactly Stiles belonged to now. Any wolf with a working nose and a functional brain would know to back the hell off the second they caught a whiff of his scent on Stiles.

Stiles was just happy to be close to his Alpha, to be able to huddle into his side and feel the taller man curl protectively around him. It made him feel safe, and it was again an assurance that he was very much wanted here.

Ennis, who was driving their SUV, parked the car outside of the bank, seeing Derek Hale’s obnoxiously loud muscle car parked across the street already. He and Kali left the car first, giving Deucalion and Stiles the illusion of a moment of privacy.

They met up with the twins and Peter, who was a very tentative addition to their pack, for now, waiting patiently for the last two of their pack to get out when they were ready.

“You don’t have to go in with us if you don’t think you are ready, darling. There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to face your old pack just yet.”

Deucalion smiled a little as Stiles ducked deeper into his embrace, burying his nose against his Alpha’s neck, scenting him in an attempt to center himself a little more.

“I know but-” Stiles shrugged a little, giving up on decorum and crawling all the way onto Deucalion’s lap, turning their sideways cuddling into a full hug. “I just want to put them behind me. I’m...I’m happy now. I have a home, I have a pack, and I finally feel like I belong. Like I’m wanted. I just feel like I need to see them, to put them behind me.”

Rubbing a hand down Stiles back, Deucalion felt the full-bodied shiver running down his boy’s back as he passed over the small of his back, before drawing Stiles in a little closer.

“You are more than wanted, and you most definitely belong in our pack. But if you wish to see them, then you are free to join us. Just know that you are allowed at any point to walk away and go back to the car, alright darling?”

Feeling Stiles’ nod against his chest, Deucalion gently unfurled his hands from where they were clenched in his shirt, before fairly lifting Stiles out of the car, only letting his boy’s feet touch the ground once the door had fallen shut behind them.

Stiles stayed close for another couple of seconds, just breathing in his scent, before he moved to his previously agreed to spot behind Ennis.

Deucalion had to lead in front of the pack as the Alpha, and he had chosen to have Kali stand by his side to prevent any of the Hale members from trying to go past him to get to Stiles.

That was a possibility, after all.

The twins were flanking Stiles, while Peter took up the rear. They were trusting the Hale to prevent anyone from attempting to flank them. It was a show of trust Peter wasn’t taking for granted.

Deucalion was certain that they must have made quite the sight to the Hale pack, entering in a tight formation. His eyes were blazing red, seeing what little he saw with his Alpha eyes just to get an idea of where everyone of the Hale pack was located, and whether they were about to walk into an ambush.

It seemed that, for once, Derek had kept to his word though, and was only waiting anxiously for the meeting to start, surrounded by all his betas.

The sight of them made Deucalion sneer a little before he stopped straining his eyes, letting them fade back to a milky white and losing his sight with the color once again. Hale chose to keep those puppies around, but threw his Stiles out like day old trash?

Before either one of them could start the official meeting, Derek suddenly let out a soft, questioning growl, scenting the air as he turned his full attention to the unmoving Ennis.

His question, which would probably come out as a demand, was cut off when Stiles peaked around Ennis’ bicep. He looked Derek in the eye for a short second, before darting back to hide behind Ennis once again.

“What - Stiles?!” One of Derek’s betas shouted, before grunting as Derek’s elbow harshly impacted with his stomach, a hushed ‘stay silent, Scott’ reaching Deucalion’s ears.

Ah, so this was the illustrious ‘best friend’ who had so callously hurt Stiles.

“If you would refrain from upsetting my beta anymore than you already have, we can start this meeting and end if peacefully.”

“But Stiles is -” The same voice as before, Scott, was again silenced with a growl. Deucalion was starting to wonder if Hale even had any control over his betas.

“Stiles,” Deucalion spoke up, voice dangerously low, “was left abandoned by your so-called pack . I found him, took him in, and gave him a place in my pack. You don’t speak to him, or even look at him without both mine and his permission, understood?”

There was some soft mumbling between Derek’s betas before Derek shut them up with a gruff: “Understood.”

“But Derek -” This time, it was a different beta who spoke up, and instead of letting Derek handle his betas, Kali snarled.

“It’s very easy, girl. Your negotiations are with our pack, and your judgment will be done by our pack. That means you listen, or you feel the consequences. Stiles has had to hurt more than enough because of you, and we will not allow you to hurt him even more. Can we start the meeting now, or do your betas need to let their input about our packmate be heard again?”

Deucalion waited for a short while to make sure Kali’s venom-filled reprimand had hit its mark, before nodding.

“Very well, onto different matters than. I set up this meeting to inform you of how your pack is going to be judged for, well, for as long as it needs to be judged.”

Stiles had pulled back into his shell after the meeting, going to his room and curling up in bed the moment they got home.

It hadn’t been fun, to see all his ex-friends staring at him, accusing looks in their eyes once they saw his glowing eyes. It was as if they thought he had somehow betrayed them.

How could he? How could he possibly betray them when they were the ones who kicked him out? Didn’t they know him, know that he would never do that?

Well, apparently they didn’t know him after all.

So now he was hiding. Not from his pack - the pack that loved him , that accepted him , that wanted him - but from the stares he had gotten from his ex-friends, his ex-pack, which were burned into his mind.

Stiles curled deeper into himself beneath the covers when he heard his door open and close. Soft footsteps walked over to his bed until they came to a halt almost directly beside his bed.

“Can I lift the covers, darling?” His Alpha asked, voice gentle even as Stiles felt a little bit of pressure over the covers that was Deucalion’s hand settling down somewhere above his head.

For a moment, Stiles didn’t answer. It was as much to gather his thoughts, as it was to see whether Deucalion would pull the blanket back anyway.

When he still hadn’t after a full minute, Stiles relaxed just a little.

“Yea, I...Yea.”

The covers were slowly pulled away from him, and Stiles darted his eyes across his Alpha’s face quickly, looking back at the mattress with a flush when he saw nothing but worry written all over the handsome wolf’s face.

But where Stiles had expected for Deucalion to pull him up or sit down next to him, his Alpha surprised him. Deucalion gently eased him back a little on the bed, before moving to lay down beside him.

Stiles unfurled a little, startled at the sudden dipping of the bed, before arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. He found himself buried in Deucalion’s embrace, strong arms wrapped securely around him.

“It’s alright to be sad, Stiles.” Deucalion spoke up once he was completely wrapped around Stiles, shielding him from the outside world. “You didn’t just lose a pack last week, you lost friends. No one will blame you for mourning that loss, darling.”

Stiles choked on a sob, trying to keep his tears at bay even as he pressed himself impossibly closer to Deucalion.

“I’m here, darling. It’s okay to cry, to mourn. I’ll be here for you, we’ll all be here for you, no matter what. So don’t be afraid to let go, but know that we are here for you.”

The sincerity and love Stiles could feel through his bonds were overwhelming. The worry - worry for him - that was a low constant coming from the twins, the rage-revenge-love-protectiveness that was his pack bond with Kali, the protective familial feeling that had been a constant part of Ennis’ pack bond since day one, the anger mixed with sadness and worry coming from the pack bond he was slowly rebuilding with Peter.

The absolute love, the possessive feeling of mine mine mine , the unconditional protectiveness that fairly radiated from Deucalion and the bond they shared.

It was all so much. They were all pure bonds, their feelings and emotions felt so true and natural .

Tears spilled down his cheeks as sobs wracked through his chest, burying his face into the soft fabric of his Alpha’s shirt as he broke down.

He let the love from his new pack fill him while he took the time to mourn the pack he had lost. Later, he’d rebuild. He would continue bonding with his pack, with his new family.

But tonight, he would mourn.

Stiles was fiddling with the envelope that had arrived for him in the mail this morning, having already read and reread the contents, just to be sure that it said what it did. Pulling the letter out for the third time, Stiles was just about to read through it again, when Deucalion knocked on his open door.

“What has you feeling so worried, darling?”

Shrugging, feeling a little bit sheepish - Stiles was still getting used to the idea that the pack could feel each other’s feelings so easily through their bonds - he fiddled a little with the letter he was holding.

Smoothing out some wrinkles in the paper from where he had clenched his grip too hard in surprise, Stiles jumped a little as Deucalion’s hand appeared in his vision. His grip was loosened gently until the letter dropped on the bed before he had the chance to accidentally destroy it.

“Stiles?”

Deucalion’s worried tone pulled Stiles out of his thoughts, automatically leaning into his Alpha’s side as he sat down on the bed beside him.

“It’s nothing bad, it’s just - I got a full scholarship. To Berkeley.”

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the noise of Stiles fiddling with the blanket, waiting nervously.

“This is good news, isn’t it? Then what has you so worried?” Deucalion sounded genuinely puzzled.

“But I don’t want to leave .” Stiles whispered, nails popping out accidentally and ripping into his covers.

Deucalion’s eyebrows rose a little at hearing the tearing noise, before seeking out Stiles’ hand and gently detaching his claws from where they were - actually embedded in the mattress. Stiles hadn’t slipped like that in a couple of weeks now, his boy must truly be worried.

“Darling, you do know that the only reason our pack is in Beacon Hills is that you wish to stay here, right?”

The shocked surprise was probably felt by every single member as it reverberated through Stiles’ pack bond, and Deucalion continued before it could turn into worry. Honestly, his darling was way too quick to worry sometimes, still feeling at times that he wasn’t good enough for the pack.

They were working hard to rid him of the notion, but some of those feelings would probably always stay with Stiles because of his experiences with the Hale pack.

“We are a nomadic pack, darling. We go where we are needed. That means that if one of our pack needs to be somewhere, that is where we go. And besides, the twins never finished college. They might want to give it a try as well.”

Stiles was aware that he was being manipulated just a little. The assurance that the move wouldn’t be just for him, but also for the twins, was an almost guarantee that Stiles wouldn’t feel guilty.

Well, not as guilty.

“But you have a home here.” Stiles protested weakly, even though he was aware that Deucalion was already planning out details for the probably move in his head.

“No Stiles, we have an apartment here.” Deucalion corrected, gently ruffling his hand through Stiles’ hair. “Our home is wherever our pack is. That can be here, in Beacon Hills, or at Berkeley, or wherever we choose to go after that. As long as we’re together, we are home.”

“Oh.” Stiles wished he could say something more profound than that, but he found himself lost for words in the face of Deucalion’s declaration.

He wanted to accept the scholarship, he really did. And Deucalion obviously knew it as well.

Deucalion seemed to realize he might have overwhelmed Stiles a little bit, and smiled, leaning in closer to peck Stiles on the lips before standing. And freezing.

Because that was not something they did.

“Deuc?” Came Stiles’ stunned voice after a long moment of tense silence, the sound of him licking his lips awfully tempting Deucalion.

“Ah. My apologies.” Stiles frowned as Deucalion seemed to blank his expression, actually locking down a little on their bond between them to not let whatever feelings currently rushing through the Alpha get noticed by him.

It hurt. He hadn’t tried to keep any of his emotions - no matter how sad or angry or filled with self-doubt - hidden from his pack ever since he joined. And they hadn’t hidden any of their from him. Until now.

“Deucalion!” Kali shouted from downstairs. “Don’t be a fucking idiot!”

There was a short moment of tense silence where Deucalion’s face twisted into an odd mix between exasperation and irritation, before the Alpha sighed.

He let go of his hold on his emotions, letting them once again flow freely through their bonds.

Making sure that Stiles was hit with an almost overwhelming amount of love and possessive want, causing him to blink up at Deucalion with wide eyes.

He knew that his Alpha felt possessive of him, it was clear in almost every interaction between them and any other member of their pack. And that’s not even speaking of when they were around anyone not part of a pack.

“I didn’t mean to do that, my apologies.”

To Stiles, Deucalion still sounded a little stilted, obviously not quite sure how to go on from there.

Well. If his Alpha was uncomfortable and apprehensive, Stiles felt a little more sure in putting himself out there as well and risk getting hurt just as much.

“Why not?”

Stiles heard the muffled ‘yes’ coming from downstairs, probably from one of the twins, but his attention was fully on Deucalion as he valiantly tried to ignore the flush creeping across his cheeks.

The bed dipped as Deucalion sat back down beside Stiles, and he was promptly pulled into an embrace with a mild squeak of surprise.

“You haven’t been responding to my courting efforts, darling.” Deucalion said gently, sounding a bit sad.

“Courting?” Stiles squawked, eyes popping wide open in surprise.

The muffled ‘idiots’ coming from the peanut gallery down below was masterfully ignored as Alpha and Beta stared at each other as realization hit.

“We had a private dinner at the Polish restaurant a couple of weeks ago, remember, darling?” Deucalion finally started explaining, realizing there had been some miscommunication. Or more like an entire missed conversation. “The park visits without the rest of the pack, the bouquet at the start of the courting?”

Stiles stared open-mouthed at Deucalion for a long moment as he recalled those exact moments. Dates. Apparently romantic dates. Which were exactly what he had hoped to happen someday, but not been hopeful would ever actually happen.

It was all so clear now, now that it had been spelled out nicely for him. Still.

“You could’ve told me! We could’ve been doing that a long time now.” Stiles added, sounding just a little grumpy.

At seeing Deucalion’s questioning head tilt, Stiles grinned to himself. Any previous embarrassment and insecurity had desappeared, replaced by pure happiness spreading through him and his bonds.

Leaning forward, even further into Deucalion’s personal space than he already was, Stiles pecked Deucalion on the lips like the wolf had done just a moment ago.

Deucalion let out a soft noise of surprise, before growling and abruptly pulling Stiles completely onto his lap. Tilting Stiles’ head up with a steady hand beneath his chin, Stiles was dragged into a hungry kiss, whining into Deucalion’s mouth as he was completely surrounded by the scent and love of his content Alpha.

When they parted after a long moment, Stiles just stared at Deucalion, spit-slicked lips parted.

Before realization suddenly hit him.

“Wait, does that mean Peter’s been courting my dad?!”

Deucalion’s head tipped back as a throaty laugh escaped him, though he was almost overshadowed by the cackling coming from downstairs. And while Peter didn’t say anything, his sulking could be felt even over their bonds.

“Don’t go for roses, Peter.” Stiles said after he had managed to stop giggling. “Those are my mom’s flowers. Get him some peruvian lilies, trust me.”

As Peter mumbled a soft - slightly embarrassed - thanks, Deucalion pulled Stiles fully back into his lap. Instead of going for another kiss though, he just pressed his nose against Stiles’ throat, breathing in the unique scent of his beta.

They would go downstairs to get hounded by the rest of their pack in a bit. They would just stay here for a little while yet, basking in the happy love radiating from the other.

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