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hale of a summer

Summary:

After his fallout with Scott, Stiles' plans for the summer are very simple:

1. Better friends
2. Become better at lacrosse (or just become fitter)
3. Figure out his sexuality and get a partner
4. Derek Hale (Hales Hale pack in general) 

As usual, Beacon Hills lived to screw him over.

[#avss day 4: Hot Boy Summer]

Notes:

prequel to 'delusions of grandeur'

Work Text:

Stiles was done.

Done with the bullshit. Done with the supernatural.

Done with Scott.

He had tried, you see. He had put in the work. He had been the very best friend he could be, had done everything he could to support Scott.

He had lied for Scott, gotten in mountains of trouble for Scott, forgave almost everything he did him because they were ‘friends’.

Stiles had been the best friend he could possibly be for Scott, and all he wanted, all he asked for was understanding. Wanted Scott to at least care about him as much as Stiles cared about him. Wanted Scott to give a shit.

When Scott had shown up the day after the whole Gerard thing and said nothing of Stiles’ injuries, he had been hurt (mentally, since he was already plenty hurt physically).

But he had kept it bottled up, not wanting to confront him about the apparent lack of care in school of all places.

Then Scott had appeared completely uncaring when Stiles had pointed out that half of their wolfy buds were missing - Stiles was particularly worried about Erica and Boyd being missing - instead focusing and worrying about Allison being missing instead.

That was when Stiles had dragged him into an empty room and told him everything that had happened because of Gerard.

The reactions Scott had given him was not what Stiles had expected. He had appeared regretful that he had let Stiles fall into the man’s arms, but had immediately shut down the conversation when Stiles had started going off on Allison too.

Stiles had truly been hurt by that. Because Allison had been in that house, whether Scott wanted to acknowledge it or not. Erica had literally told him that it was the brunette who had shot them and let Gerard and his men take them.

But Scott had refused to hear it, saying that ‘Allison would never do that’.

Stiles had been ready to take a break from his supposed best friend after that, because that was insane. How could he see Stiles’ injuries, hear the truth of his words through his heartbeat and still choose Allison over him? Especially after he had seen what she was capable of when Kate had gotten her hooks into her the first time around?

And then Scott had gone and one upped himself.

“Come on man,” had implored Scott, the day before. “You’re the only person I’m friends with who could drive me there. Mom refuses and-”

“No, Scott,” had answered Stiles, eyes almost ablaze with anger. Did he not realise what an absurd thing he was asking him, after three days in which they had basically said nothing to one another, other than ‘hi’? “I will not fucking drive you off to the airport to see the ex girlfriend who attacked a couple of teenagers and then proceeded to let her grandpa kick my ass so that you two can dopily stare at each other. She never even apologised!”

“She didn’t do anything!” complained Scott, and Stiles was unable to hide the hurt those words caused him. Because even without being able to hear his heartbeat, he could tell Scott believed the bullshit he was spewing. “It was Gerard, not her! And who even cares about Erica and Boyd? They are with Derek, why do you c-”

“Do not fucking finish that sentence, McCall,” seethed Stiles, teeth clenched together. How fucking dare he bring up Derek now? To bring up Erica and Boyd, who Stiles was starting to worry about, since he had not seen them the entire week, and the holidays were about to start? “They were there with me! Of course I fucking care, of course I’m gonna side with the victims over their would be murderer!”

“Don’t call Allison, that! She is not the monster, they are,” shouted Scott, and Stiles felt a flash of fear when he saw the fangs threatening to pop out. “They chose to become monsters, I didn’t! I didn’t! If it wasn’t for-” he didn’t finish the sentence, but he did not need to.

Stiles had heard what he was about to say.

‘If it wasn’t for you’.

Scott blamed him for the werewolf thing and, from the look on his face, it wasn’t a slip of the tongue. 

He meant it.

When Stiles turned his back on him, pain growing in his chest, it felt final.

It wasn’t as if Stiles did not understand where Scott was coming from. Had it not been for Stiles asking him to go to the woods, Scott would have never been turned.

But at the same time, he had a mouth. He could have said ‘no’. He wanted to see the dead body - and Stiles cringed, recalling his original purpose for being in the woods - as much as Stiles had. Stiles had not dragged him along, not forced him to do anything Scott himself did not want to do.

It wasn’t fair for him to blame Stiles from what, ultimately, were his own actions.

It wasn’t fair.

Stiles wiped his eyes angrily, hating the tears that kept trying to spill out every time he thought of Scott.

Scott had been his friend for so long, though. For so long it had been just him and Stiles against the world. When Scott’s dad left, and Stiles’ mom died, they only had each other.

Stiles literally dumbed himself down for Scott. He made himself less just to be his friend.

Well, he decided, walking towards the mirror in his room and staring at his reflection, no more.

Stiles was no longer going to tolerate this.

Scott had made his decision, had chosen a murderer, an Argent, over his friendship with Stiles, so fuck him. 

He didn’t need Scott to be happy. He was Stiles motherfucking Stilinski. 

He was a genius in his own right and he could do better than Scott.

Yes, he decided, pulling out a piece of paper from the dresser. He was going to achieve a number of things this summer, and make Scott the loser in this ‘break-up’.

It only took him a few minutes to figure out what he wanted.

1. Better friends

He did not need to be beholden to Scott alone. The world was his oyster, and he had ended up on the radar big time between going to prom with Lydia and scoring for the lacrosse team. He was awkward, but he was also funny, and Danny liked him well enough (he pretended otherwise, but Stiles saw right through him. He could have easily said he did not want to be Stiles’ partner, but he hadn’t). How hard could getting new friends be?

2. Become better at lacrosse (or just become fitter)

He had always purposefully not tried very hard, because of Scott and his asthma. He could have trained harder, practiced more, put in more effort in preparation of the lacrosse season. But he had never had the incentive to do it, when it meant that Scott would be alone on the bench.

Scott had not had such problems, when he suddenly turned into a werewolf, and Stiles viciously highlighted the word on the paper.

Plus after the Gerard thing... no. Stiles refused to be caught in a situation like that ever again, where an old man got the drop on him.

3. Figure out his sexuality and get a partner

Yeah... that was another can of worms. 

He had been in love with Lydia since he was in middle school. Loved her, loved how she looked, loved how smart she was, just all around loved her and the idea of her. Had definitely wanted to date her.

But lately... he had started to look at guys a little too long. He had always thought Danny and many on the lacrosse team were hot, but he had started to think of them as ‘cute’ too, and that was just weird. Right?

And then, in that bar...

And just the whole Derek Hale thing. And the way his heart had literally fluttered for a second when that psycho Matt said ‘You two make a pretty cute couple’.

Speaking of Derek Hale.

4. Derek Hale (Hales Hale pack in general) 

He wasn’t sure why he needed him added in the list or what he meant exactly, but he felt he should add it. He’d rather not get mixed up in werewolf/hunter politics ever again, but his father was a sheriff in the town and there was very little chance of him and Stiles fleeing. So he’d need to do something about Derek. And Peter.

He put down the pen, and looked at the piece of paper in front of him. It did not look like much, not really, but he’d doubt he’d be able to achieve much more in the next few months. Becoming a better in the athletic department alone would take him an entire summer.

And escaping the social reclusion being Scott’s friend had cast upon him-

A knock to his door startled him out of his thoughts. Stiles frowned at it, and, for a moment, he allowed himself to believe that it was Scott. That Scott had come to apologise, to tell him he understood Stiles’ point and that he shouldn’t have chosen Allison over him.

“Come in,” he said, and his heart broke all over again when it wasn’t Scott at the door.

Just for him to frown in confusion when it was Lydia standing in his doorway, for the second time in barely a week, looking a little lost and confused.

Lydia made his heart hurt too, but less so than Scott. He loved (had loved?) her, but what could he really do against a love that made Jackson the asshole go back to a normal werewolf after being a kanima? It was just marriage from there on, and Stiles, contrary to popular belief, knew when to give up.

“Lydia?” he called, when she just stood in his doorway, not moving.

“Your father let me in,” she explained. And then, to Stiles’ horror, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles was immediately on his feet and reaching towards her, to wrap his arms around her. When she accepted the hug easily, it made him even more freaked out. “Lydia?”

“Am I going insane?” she asked, not even bothering to wipe her tears as she sobbed. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything, and no one is explaining, and everything and everyone is freaking insane, and no one is telling me anything! We hit Jackson with a car and he was a lizard, and before that he was dead, and Peter Hale came out of a hole and Allison left without saying goodbye and I just-”

Oh. Stiles swore in his head, even as he moved her towards his bed. He kicked off the shirts he had left there, and sat down beside her, keeping one arm around her shoulders. “You’re not going insane. Fuck, I’m sorry, Lyds.”

“What are you sorry for?” she asked, looking up. She looked beautiful even as she cried, and Stiles’ heart ached. “Are you part of my imagination too? Are you gonna sprout fangs as well?!”

“Just in the winter,” he said, and grimaced when her eyes widened in shock. “Uh, sorry. Bad joke.”

She sobbed and punched him on the shoulder. It hurt more than he expected it to. “Asshole.”

“Okay. I think I should start from the beginning, except that the beginning of this story is 6 years ago,” he said, and Lydia let go of him, crossing her legs on his bed and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

For the next half an hour, Stiles explained everything he knew to her. From what he knew of the Hales, to what he suspected of Kate and Derek, and the Hale Fire. About Laura’s body in the woods, Scott being bitten, the Alpha, and Jackson finding out. About the Argents being insane, Peter biting her and Derek killing him. About the beta trio, Scott being stubborn, Jackson being bitten. About the kanima, the suspicion of the Hale pack that she was the kanima, and the fucked up birthday party. About Jackson, and Gerard Argent, and Matt. About Allison going insane.

He hesitated for only a few moments before saying about the torture.

But honestly, he needed to tell someone. Scott hadn’t cared, and he couldn’t tell his father. And Lydia was willing to listen.

It felt vindicating to see how horrified by Allison’s actions the girl was. Her, who had been Allison’s best friend since the girl had shown up in Beacon Hills was more horrified than Scott, his supposed best friend.

It felt vindicating, and it also hurt like hell.

When he was finally done telling her everything, Lydia was quiet for a while. Stiles knew he had just dumped a buttload of information on the girl and that she was most probably trying to sort through it and adding the bits she knew to the puzzle, so he let her ruminate on it as he waited.

It was liberating telling someone all of the story. It allowed him to see it again, almost objectively, and realise just how much Scott had sucked these past few months, and how shitty he had been to Derek.

The man had returned to Beacon Hills, where his family had been brutally murdered, to find that his sister was dead and that a new Alpha was threatening his family secret by turning a teenager into a beta. And the teenager refused to listen to him, in fact started dating the niece of the woman who had burned his family alive.

Derek had acted mighty creepy, but at the end of the day he was barely 20 and was completely alone in the world. And if what he had learnt of the supernatural was anything to go by, Derek hadn’t even been meant to become Alpha. He was the second son, so his sister was meant to become Alpha, not him.

“What now?” then asked Lydia, staring at him decidedly. There were tear tracks on her face, but she was no longer crying. “What’s the next step?” At his confused expression, she rolled her eyes, and Stiles mentally cheered for the return of slightly mean Lydia. “It will take me a while to fully believe this, and I have plenty of research to do, but now that I know, I cannot unknow this stuff. Peter being back..." she shook her head. "And Jackson is a werewolf, now. What do we do? What are you going to do?”

Stiles shrugged, playing around with the hem of his shirt. “To be honest, I want to just... breathe for a while. Me and Scott are done. He knew what happened to me, and even if I could forgive him not coming for me and lying to me about the plan - which he still refuses to explain to me, for some reason - his flag is in Argent camp. I refuse to be in league with him.” He shook his head. “Jackson will need to talk to Derek, if he hasn't already, but I personally don’t want to go to Derek yet. He is way more right than the Argents ever were, but I just...”

Derek made him nervous, in multiple ways. He was also inexplicably drawn to the man, and he did not like that at all. 

“What about Boyd and Erica?” she asked him.

Stiles was starting to grow worried about them too. He knew for sure that Gerard no longer had them, he had gone back to the Argents with his phone recording and his heart in his throat. Chris had looked confused and wary at his actions, especially when Stiles told him that everything he was going to say was recorded and would be sent to the police the second he made the wrong move.

But he had confirmed that he had freed them from the basement, and allowed a terrified Stiles to investigate, keeping his hands to himself the entire time.

So they were out and safe, but they had not been to school, in that last week.

“I’m going to give them one more week to answer my texts or come to me, and then I’ll go to Derek and their houses and figure out what the fuck is going on,” he settled on.

“And I’ll deal with Jackson,” said Lydia, and then eyed him speculatively. “What you’re saying is that you are on some ‘new year, new me’ kick and for the next week you are completely free?”

Stiles looked at her with slight worry in his eyes. “Uh... yes? Why?”

She smiled, and leaned down to press a kiss on his cheek. “Nothing. But... thank you, Stiles.” She smiled again, more sincerely, eyes glistening in the sunlight. “You’re a real friend.”

When she walked away, closing the door behind him, it did not even hurt that much.

“Do we need to have a certain conversation?” Stiles looked up to find his father in the doorway moments later, an eyebrow raised. “This is the second time in a week that Lydia Martin shows up at your house. Is something...?”

Stiles studied his father for a couple of seconds, and actually smiled. “Nah. I think... I think we just became friends.”

John Stilinski blinked. “And you’re happy with that?”

Was he? It hurt to think that he and her would never be together, but today already hurt less than yesterday. And the idea of her being his friend did not immediately make him think of tons of different ways in which he could turn that friendship into a romance.

“Yes,” he found himself saying. “I’m happy with that.”

John smiled back. “Good for you son. It’s good to see you smiling again.”

Stiles felt guilty. His father must have been so worried about his injuries courtesy of Gerard, especially considering Stiles refused to tell him the truth about that.

But it was for his best. His father was the only one he truly had left, and Stiles would die himself before he let something happen to him.

So he just nodded, and watched him walk away.


“What the hell?” demanded Stiles, the second he dropped onto the front seat beside Lydia.

She looked absolutely impeccable at the driver seat. Meanwhile, Stiles was 82% sure he was wearing his shirt backwards.

But he hadn’t had time to even get himself decent. Lydia had texted him 20 minutes ago with a ‘I’m going to be in your house in half an hour. Get your money, credit card preferably’, and then abused the horn until Stiles had rushed outside.

She gave him an unimpressed look, pulling her sunglasses down slightly. “Your shirt is on backwards.”

He glared. “Why are you here? Where are we even going?!”

“Put on your seatbelt on,” she instructed, starting the car. 

The brunet complied, though he did it while glaring at her the entire time. “What the hell, Lydia?”

“The other day you said you wanted to make something of yourself this summer,” she said, as she drove. “A new attitude comes with a new wardrobe.”

It had been three days since then. She had texted him plenty of questions, and told him enough about Peter Hale to make him want to kill the man all over again and never go anywhere in his vicinity again, since then, but he had not expected to see her face to face so soon.

“What?”

“Look,” she said, huffing. “I’m down a best friend because Allison is crazy and she’s gone. You are down a best friend because Scott is stupid and doesn’t recognise a good thing when he sees it. We both know what the fuck is truly going on in this town, and we are both human.”

Stiles had his doubts about their 100% humanness (Lydia did not react to the kanima venom, and Stiles apparently could make mountain ash move with ‘belief’), but nodded. “So by elimination we are now going to be best friends?” he asked, a little sceptical.

“Maths has never failed me,” she informed him. “Also, I never pass out the chance of giving someone a makeover. Come on, it will be fun.”

It actually was fun.

Stiles had expected it to be tiresome and boring, and to complain the entire time because Lydia made decisions for him, but it was actually fun. Other than directing him to the ‘correct’ stores, and suggesting him what type of clothing he should invest in, she let him pick whatever he wanted.

Apparently, when he wasn’t “bundled up in plaids”, his sense of style was not completely atrocious.

They ended up spending almost two hours in the various clothing shops, only stopping once Stiles was about to pass out to get some boba at the cafe. 

Stiles of only a few months ago would not have hesitated in calling this a date, but it really wasn’t. They were eating and drinking together, talking and laughing, and still it felt completely platonic and good.

How long had it been since he had something like this with Scott? Or anyone else? Even his father, he did not recall having a good day out with in a very long time.

The day could have ended up being a complete success if, as they dragged Stiles’ clothing with the purchases towards the car - his bank account would not be thanking him - he did not end up looking at the board in the entrance of the mall.

And freezing automatically when he spotted the two missing people posters.

“Stiles, what-” started Lydia, sounding irritated as Stiles dropped the bags and stopped in front of the glass. And then she too fell silent when she realised what he was looking at. “Oh my god.”

“What the hell?!” he questioned, staring at the leaflets in shock.

But... missing? Sure, Stiles had not seen them since the day in the basement, but he was sure they were fine... right? Chris had said he had let them go, and Stiles felt as if he had been telling the truth.

But if he had, then why were Boyd and Erica missing? He was sure he had seen Isaac on the last day of school, when he and Scott had been arguing, but he hadn’t had time to question him and-

“Derek,” he decided, rushing to pick his bags again. “Drop me at my house and I’ll-”

“Fuck no,” said Lydia, and he looked at her in surprise. He was pretty sure he had never heard her swear before. “I’m driving there directly.” She rolled his eyes at his surprise. “We’re in this together, Stilinski, I thought I explained that to you.”

“Yeah,” he said, after a few seconds of just staring at her flummoxed. “You did. I’m still working on believing it.”

She rolled her eyes once more and then together they made their way out of the shopping mall.

 

It took about half an hour to get from the mall to Derek’s abandoned train depot. 

Lydia grumbled quite a bit as she drove, since her car was not really made for the woods and wilderness, not like his jeep, but she did not stop until they were in front of the old train depot where Stiles had gone last time when Erica had been seizing.

His heart clenched painfully at the memory.

All this time he had thought they weren’t talking to him because of werewolfy pride or because they were recuperating for the torture, when in truth they had gone missing since the night of their first kidnapping. And, even though Allison had gone to France for the holiday, Stiles couldn’t help but think about how Gerard Argent was still missing.

Scott had vaguely mentioned that his plan to stop him had worked and he had changed his cancer pills to mountain ash which had poisoned him when Derek bit him, but nothing after that. By the time Jackson was a werewolf, the man was nowhere to be seen and, while a vindictive part of Stiles hoped Derek or Peter had gotten to him, he was worried.

“He lives here?” asked Lydia as she parked the car in front of the depot. “Trashy.”

Stiles was about 24% sure Derek did not actually live in the depot, considering he was technically Isaac’s guardian, but it dropped to a 21% when the werewolf stepped out of the depot, looking wary.

The teenager had not seen Derek since that night.

He recalled Derek had looked at him both worried and betrayed, when they had met eyes, but they had not had time to chat before the werewolf had disappeared.

He looked... better but also worse at the same time. He did not have bags under his eyes or anything, but he looked very much tense and distrustful as they stopped a few feet away from him.

His eyebrows did something when he and Lydia stepped out of the car, then his face went back to blank.

“What are you doing here,” he asked, voice toneless.

“Erica and Boyd are still missing?” demanded Stiles, not beating around the bush. “They did not come home?”

Derek’s eyes narrowed in his direction. “Not since they left the depot. You saw them? When?”

Stiles really did not want to tell Derek about Gerard, but what other way was there to explain why he knew they had been in the basement? Plus, it was likely Derek already knew, since he had helped Scott with his plan by biting Gerard.

He exchanged a look with Lydia, who pursed her lips but nodded, and turned back to Derek. “Uh, after the lacrosse game, while Jackson was dying, the hunters grabbed me,” he explained, looking somewhere over Derek’s head. “They, uh, took me to Argent’s house and Erica and Boyd were there. They had them on these... electric... things, trying to get them to tell them about you. Gerard, uh, he kind of, wanted to send a message? To Scott. Wanted Scott to uh, come and get me. But Scott didn’t and he eventually got bored of me and threw me out.” He swallowed, running a quick hand through his hair. It had started to grow. “I went back, after to save them. But Chris said he had let them go, so I thought they came back.” He made eye contact with Derek, flinching slightly at the fury in the man’s eyes. “I-I checked. But they weren’t there.”

“They took you,” repeated Derek, and why was he so angry? “And Scott left you there?”

Stiles shrugged, feeling cold and hurt like he did whenever he thought of Scott. “Apparently he had his own plan that he did no see fit to share with me, so he didn’t really, uh, notice that I was gone.”

A low growl left Derek’s lips that had Stiles stiffening and Lydia flinching slightly. Stiles knew Derek would never hurt him or lose control like that, but the anger rolling off him in waves was scary.

“See?” And this time both Stiles and Lydia flinched, when Peter’s voice sounded, the man coming out of the depot with Isaac. “I told you there was no way that our little reds knew anything about what happened.”

They must have heard everything, realised Stiles, neatly avoiding the shocked look on Isaac’s face and the assessing one on Peter. Derek still looked incredibly mad.

“About what?” asked Lydia, for them both.

“Scott used the kanima venom to immobilise Derek and forced him to give Gerard the bite,” said Isaac, cowering a little when Derek growled at him.

Oh my god.

When Scott had said he had ‘made’ Derek give Gerard the bite, he had thought he meant it as in he had convinced the werewolf. That he had put him in his plans, and had given Derek no choice but to comply.

Not that he had physically made him. Held him down and forced him .

“Holy shit, dude,” he said, looking at Derek horrified. The werewolf was tense, under the twin look of shock and horror on Stiles and Lydia’s faces. “He forced you? That’s like ra- He-”

Just how much had Scott changed, in these past few months? Stiles was having a hard time accepting that this was the same boy he had befriended in middle school.

How could Scott do that to Derek in particular? “To a born wolf, the bite is a gift,” he said out loud, mind racing. “And he... he...”

“Impressive,” said Peter, studying him even more creepily than before. “A mere human, immediately sees everything wrong with Scott’s actions. But the werewolf acts offended when Isaac pointed out how terrible his actions were.” He sighed. “I really bit the wrong one, that night, didn’t I?”

He barely got the words out before Derek was growling harder than before, putting himself squarely between his uncle and them, his back to them. Isaac whimpered, moving off to the side, while Peter straightened up, neck showing slightly, but still smirking.

“I kid, nephew. It was just a little jokey joke.”

“Considering you did bite some of us, it’s not funny,” said Lydia, glaring at him.

Derek let out another low growl, and this time Peter rolled his eyes, before disappearing inside. Isaac remained outside, a little to the left, observing the proceedings, and Derek finally turned to face them.

He stared at Stiles for a few seconds, expression hard to read and sighed. “I’m sorry. I did not know Gerard had you. If I had...”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but his expression went hard, enunciating with just his eyebrows just what he could have done to Gerard, had he known the truth.

Stiles was... touched.

Derek seemed to think about it for a second, then spoke. “Erica and Boyd said they didn’t want to be part of the pack anymore, and then ran off. I told them it was dangerous, but they didn’t listen. And I guess they got caught by the Argents.”

“By Allison,” said Lydia, shaking her head slightly. “I cannot believe she did that.”

“She’s an Argent,” said Derek, and she glared at him.

“While I agree with you that Argents have to earn trust, you guys tried to kill me, when you thought I was the kanima. I haven’t forgotten that.”

Derek met her eyes just as suspiciously. “And you used me to resuscitate my dead uncle.”

“He was in my head,” she hissed, hands clenching at her sides. “I didn’t choose to do that.”

“We can shout at each other another time,” interrupted Stiles. At the twin glare he got, he put both hands up. “Though both of you are making incredible and thought provoking arguments. So smart! But seriously, Boyd and Erica. They are not... They’re not, right?”

Derek’s gaze softened, and he shook his head. It made Stiles want to relax, but something in his eyes...

“It’s worse.”

“Look, we’re looking into it,” stated Derek, decidedly, going back to his asshole eyebrows look. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Yes he does,” complained Isaac, this time not cowering when Derek glared at him. “Derek, you’re the Alpha, and I defer to you and I trust you, but it’s three of us against an Alpha pack.”

“A what?” demanded Stiles, eyes widening. 

“A pack full of Alphas?” deduced Lydia, looking afraid immediately.

“You don’t have to worry about it, they aren’t there for you,” said Derek, dismissively.

Isaac glared at him and walked until he was closer to Stiles and Lydia. “It is a pack full of alphas.”

“Isaac-”

“They go from town to town ‘scouting’ potential packs,” continued the blond, looking at them instead of the frustrated Derek. Though the Alpha was doing very little to stop him from speaking, which made Stiles realise just how truly worried Derek was. “When we came back two days after the kanima, we found their symbol on the door of the Hale House. And they left Boyd’s jacket inside.”

Stiles felt his blood freeze. “They have them.”

It was not a question, but Isaac nodded.

Dear god. Erica and Boyd literally went from the fire to the pan, if possible. “What do the Alpha pack want?”

“Me,” said Derek arms crossed around his chest. “They want me to join their pack.”

“Which you won’t,” asked Stiles, eyeing dubiously.

Derek gave him the flat stare he was so used to. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” agreed Stiles, feeling a little pleased. Not that he had thought Derek would just up and leave Beacon Hills and them all behind, of course. They had been through a lot together. 

Just yesterday, Stiles had been thinking of distancing himself from werewolves. Of being happy and werewolf free, of just becoming his best self. Have a proper hot boy summer.

But he couldn’t leave Erica and Boyd in their clutches. He couldn’t leave Derek alone either.

Derek had just basically said that if he had known about Gerard, he’d have killed him and Stiles honestly believed him. After the police station, after the swimming pool, after Peter, after the kanima... he believed him.

“How can we help?”


“I don’t think this is what Derek meant when he said ‘by staying away’,” commented Lydia, as they parked in front of Deaton’s veterinary the next day.

“Derek is stupid as hell if he think I’m gonna let them rot and risk dying because of the Alpha pack,” he said opening the car and letting a relieved sigh when he did not spot Scott’s bike anywhere. He had memorised the other boy’s schedule a while ago, and knew he did not have work on Tuesdays, but you never knew.

Lydia grabbed his arm before he could proceed. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

Stiles looked away, and she grabbed him by the chin forcing him to face her. “Stiles, you can’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault, there were grown men with weapons torturing teenagers. The fact that you even went back at all speaks for your character.”

He swallowed. “If I had gone back immediately after Gerard had let me go, then I could have saved them.”

“Or the Alpha pack could have gotten you, or Gerard would have given you more than just bruises,” she pointed out, glaring slightly.

“The Alpha pack has no need for a human.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” she countered. “If they are a pack of Alphas, then they have no need for betas either. So the fact that they have them...”

Yeah, Stiles had thought of that too. They wanted Derek, and were ready to get him by blackmail if necessary. And the Alpha thought he could take them alone? Stupidity.

“Fine, you might have a point.” She looked smug at the admission, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “I still want to find them and help them, if I can.”

“That I can agree with,” she said, huffing as they continued towards the veterinary. “Just for the record, this is not what I signed up for when I decided to go to your house, the other day.”

“This is not what I signed up for when I went in the woods that day,” he informed her, opening the door of the veterinary.

As usual on Tuesdays, the waiting area was empty. Tuesdays were for picking up the animals only, so there was never a queue.

“How can I help- oh,” said Deaton walking out distractedly. He stopped when he realised it was the two of them, looking thoughtful. “Interesting. Ms Martin, Mr Stilinski. I don’t think either of you dropped off any pet?”

“You’re the one who whispered Scott that stupid plan of his,” said Stiles, rather than asking.

It was 100% on Scott for following through, but Stiles believed he knew the boy enough to know Scott would not have been able to come up with it all by himself. Stiles was the idea guy, Scott was the brawn and the enabler.

And the only other person who could have hatched something like this was standing in front of him.

Deaton sighed, and then opened the gate. “You better come in.”

The two of them did not hesitate in walking through, though Stiles stopped for a moment when the gate closed behind him. He couldn’t be sure, but it felt... familiar.

He looked forward to Deaton looking at him speculatively, but he did not elaborate or offer an explanation, disappearing in the studio beside the medical room.

Stiles was a little surprised, since he had never been there. Deaton kept it locked at all times, the few times Stiles had come by here for one reason and another, so he had never had the chance to even peek at it.

It looked like an ordinary studio at first glance, when they walked inside of it. But there was something weird in the air, almost like static that had Stiles’ hair raise on his arms.

“What is this place?” asked Lydia, squinting at the books on the walls. She seemed slightly uncomfortable too.

Deaton observed them for a few more seconds. “Very interesting indeed. Please take a seat.”

They exchanged a wary look with one another before sitting down, facing him.

Deaton gave a loud sigh. “I made a mistake with Scott.” Stiles’ eyebrows rose. He hadn’t expected he man to agree that easily. “I thought... What I thought does not matter. But I did not expect the events to go the way they had. I believed that Scott and Derek could have teamed up together, that they would have collaborated and taken down Gerard and the kanima together. Derek is too violent, Scott is too forgiving. But they did not meet each other in the middle as I had hoped.”

“You need to help us find Boyd and Erica,” informed him Stiles, unwilling to think about Scott too much. “You owe it to Derek.”

“If they did not want to be his betas any longer-”

“Derek is not a perfect Alpha, I’m the first to say this,” interrupted Stiles. As much as the werewolf had helped, he had fucked up. A lot. “But they are still his betas. If we find them and they still want to run away, then that’s on them. But I found a lot of werewolf lore - as well as a lot of porn, dear god there is a lot of werewolf porn - and I can now at least have an inkling as to why Derek bit those dysfunctional idiots. He needed a pack, but he also needed consent and he went for the easy prey. Because an alpha needs a pack and werewolves need a pack. Betas need an alpha.”

Deaton appeared impressed. “How come you understand this so easily and your friend, the werewolf with honed instincts, does not?” he sighed, shaking his head. “However, I cannot help you.”

“Deaton-”

“I am a keeper of the balance. I cannot take a side, especially in werewolves disputes.”

“You were the Hale emissary,” pointed out Lydia, eyes steely.

Deaton smiled sadly. “But I never was Laura’s or Derek’s. Therefore it is not my place. However,” he said, before they could start complaining any more. “You can help him.”

Lydia blinked. “What?”

“What you’re feeling in the air, right now,” he explained, waving around. “Is magic. Pure, unfiltered magic of the Earth. What you’d call a ‘normal’ person, should not be able to feel it. But you already knew you weren’t quite normal didn’t you?”

Both Stiles and Lydia stiffened, and Deaton continued. “You knew something had to be different about you, since you were tranced into saving Peter and survived a bite that should have turned or killed you. And you know that I did not randomly decide on giving you the mountain ash.”

Stiles had had his suspicion about both of them, yes. But he hadn’t spoken it out loud, because that meant manifesting it, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted that. “Okay. Then what’s... the verdict? Are we like... witches?”

He could be a witch. Witches were sexy.

Deaton huffed. “Not quite. I cannot say for sure, but I believe you, Miss Martin, are a banshee.”

“A wailing woman,” said Lydia, blinking at him. When she felt Stiles’ surprised eyes on her, she rolled her eyes. “I do research too.”

“Indeed,” said Deaton. “Though there is a lot more about being a banshee than simply screaming. And you, Mr Stilinski, well... considering your family line, it is quite obvious you’re a spark.”

“My family line?” he asked, confused.

Deaton blinked. “But of course. Your mother, was, after all, a witch.”

Finding out that his mother was apparently a witch that belonged to the Hale Pack was not what Stiles had expected when he had gone to see Deaton.

The amount of books that had been dropped in his lap, those he had expected. But hearing that his mother was somehow magic and that her magic had diluted in his blood and because of Beacon Hill’s Nemeton - whatever the fuck that was - he was a spark, had not been it.

Lydia was equally in shock, considering the bombshell that her grandma had been a banshee as well, and was quiet for the time being. Stiles would have comforted her, but it was all very sudden and confusing, so he settled for waving her off when she dropped him.

“Hey, kiddo,” said the Sheriff, watching him walk in. He frowned at the books in Stiles’ hands. “I thought summer break just started. What are you doing with so much reading material?”

Yeah. Stiles had assumed his father did not know, since Deaton claimed that his mother had stripped off her magic when she had married him, and this cemented him. If his father had known, there was no way Stiles would have gotten away with all those lies.

“Just for fun, mostly,” he said, sighing slightly when his father gave him a little look but did not press. It was clear that he wasn’t sure whether to believe him and just chose to at this point, to avoid any other argument.

Stiles wanted to tell him so badly.

But telling him would put him in danger. Argent had not had a problem putting his hands on a teenager who was the son of the local law enforcement. His family probably would not have scruples getting rid of a nosy Sheriff - which was what his dad would become, if he knew the truth.

And wasn’t it a trip that he was more worried about what the hunters could do to him, rather than what the werewolves could? That he trusted the creatures of the night miles more than he trusted the humans?

He dropped the books onto his bed and threw himself beside him.

It was almost surreal.

Him, skinny defenceless Stiles Stilinski, who had been nothing when in Argent’s hand, had the chance of becoming an incredible magic user because he was a spark.

He had wanted to walk away from it all, at the beginning of the summer. But how could it, when no matter what he did the supernatural followed him?

Like a moth to a flame.

He sighed.

“Why the long face?” asked a silky voice and Stiles nearly screamed as he fell off the bed, looking up at his window in shock.

Peter was sitting on his window still, completely unbothered even when Stiles grabbed his bat. He was checking his nails. “You need to be more aware of your surroundings.”

“You need to get away from me before I scream,” he informed him, heart beating a mile a minute.

But give him a break. Unlike Derek, he was not very sure about Peter’s motivations on a daily basis.

“Your father would never reach you in time,” informed him Peter, with a sardonic smile.

“Derek would know it was you,” he said, grasping at straws.

Peter’s smirk faltered for a second, and then he huffed. “No need to go crying wolf. I’m not here to hurt you. Though, it is interesting that you know that.”

Stiles squinted at him. “That I know what?”

“That Derek would hunt down and rip out Gerard and Scott’s throat, if you asked him to,” he said, candidly, as if he was speaking of the weather and not blathering nonsense.

“What?” Sure, Derek had said he would have hurt Gerard, if he had known, and come to his rescue, but why would he attack Scott? And for Stiles?

“So smart and yet so ignorant,” mused Peter, staring at him in almost disappointment. “But as I said, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Forgive me for not believing you,” he said, his old on the bat tightening when Peter approached his desk. “Seriously, I’ll scream. I’ll blow a rape whistle if I have to.”

Peter winced. “Definitely do not do the last one, Derek would eviscerate me. This, however is why I’m here.” He turned to face him, suddenly serious. “Are you part of Derek’s pack?”

It was like talking to a doll with programmed sentences, because this man was making no sense. Jumping from one topic to another like it was a sport. “Derek’s pack? Not that I know of.”

Peter tilted his head to the side. “You went back for his betas, risking your life. Are about to learn about spark and magic to help him save them. And you’re not part of his pack?”

“First of all, stop stalking me. It’s creepy,” He said. Peter kept staring. “And... I don’t know, okay? I mean, can humans even be pack? And aren’t I in Scott’s pack, if so?”

“Do you want to be?”

“Fuck no.”

“Then you’re not,” simply said Peter. Like it was that easy. “It is that easy,” agreed the older man. “Now, do you want to be part of Derek’s pack?”

“I mean... I don’t know,” he said, finally dropping the bat. It wasn’t wise, but he was 87% sure Peter did not mean him any actual harm. He seemed very insistent on Derek hurting him, if he were to hurt Stiles. “I don’t know how much supernatural crap I want to be stuck in.”

“You’re not stuck in a pack,” said Peter, frowning. “You’re just part of a pack. And, my dear, the supernatural is already in you. From the beginning.”

“Who even is Derek’s pack at this point?” questioned Stiles, ignoring the last bit.

“Derek, as the Alpha. Me, Isaac and Jackson.”

Stiles made a face. “Four people? That’s kinda pitiful. And I don’t know if I want to be in a pack with Jackson.” Just because he was friends with Lydia, it did not mean he liked the other beta that much.

“Jackson is leaving at the end of the summer to London, and I’m sure Derek would kick him out all the much sooner if you were to ask him.”

“What exactly are you insinuating, Peter?” he questioned, eyes narrowed. “Derek doesn’t listen to me that much.”

Peter smiled. “It’s cute that you think that. Do tell when you come to an answer,” he then said, and with that jumped out of the window like a caveman.

Honestly what was he talking about? Sure, Derek had listened to him a couple of times before, and seemed to mostly agree with Stiles’ ideas but it was a leap to go from there to just saying that he listened and would do something Stiles just stated.

Peter was so weird and creepy.

If he wasn’t the last physical family Derek had, Stiles would already have tried to kill him somehow.

He resolved to get some more mountain ash from Deaton and line the windows with it sooner rather than later.


Stiles had, of course, learnt about mates, in the course of his research on werewolves for Scott. There was a lot about it outside on the internet - a terrifying amount about it, really - but he hadn’t been sure how much of it was real and how much was fake.

Apparently, however, it was real. Mates were a real thing and the most secure way of tracking a fellow werewolf was by using their mate as a conduit. 

Stiles had always been fascinated by the concept of soulmates and mates, and the fact that a couple’s bond could be so strong that it would allow magical tracking to be performed on them... well, it was intriguing at the very least.

The more he read on werewolf mates, the more interested he was in the affair (and the more he believed that perhaps Scott and Allison could have been mates)(though, that changed very little).

The only bad thing about the entire thing, in Stiles’ humble opinion, was that werewolves had the ability to find their mates, which humans did not. So even if a werewolf had a human mate, there was a chance of them never getting together because the wolf refused to speak.

And then he read the spell of tracking a werewolf through their mate (which of course wouldn’t work with Boyd and Erica), and the various other ‘mate-based spells’.

One in particular got his attention.

It had been three weeks now, since the whole talk with Deaton, and while the werewolves continued to go out, looking for Erica and Boyd, they were not any closer to finding them now than they had been at the beginning.

Stiles and Lydia had actually started training with Deaton in the arts of ‘magic’ so that they could help actually cast a tracking spell that would help them find them but Deaton insisted that they knew the ‘basics’ before that. Stiles was losing his patient quickly with the old man, but the last time he had tried a spell by himself, nothing had happened.

But when he read a spell to help recognise who your mate was (you needed to perform it before the tracking spell) he got curious, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t try, right?

He was pretty sure Lydia was not his mate or soulmate or whatever, but what if that person existed in Beacon Hills? All Stiles would need to do was cast the spell and then he’d know.

The worse that could happen was that the spell did not work or that his soulmate was ugly. That was literally it.

So he carefully drew the pentagram on the floor with a white piece of chalk.

He placed the various ingredients around, ingredients that he hoped he wouldn’t have to explain to Deaton. The man hated it when Stiles did ‘experiments’ by himself. He placed the candle last of all, and then concentrated on it.

He lit up the candle and then whispered the Latin words, being careful to enunciate them correctly. Lydia’s magic was very different from what Stiles did, but the last time she had pronounced a word wrong she had been high for the rest of the day. Stiles had no idea what was supposed to happen but it had been hilarious.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the smell of burning and focusing on the flickering flames.

In nomine luna, propter gratiam peto, o dea. Aut decrescis: O domina mea ostende mihi faciem geminae flamma. IIT mihi amorem familiarum lunae. In nomine Selene, et ego invocabo te.”

“Stiles!” called out his father, knocking at his door.

The brunet immediately broke the pentagram, flailing around as he rushed to the door, body pressing against it before he could actually open it. 

“Jeez, what are you doing in there?”

“Nothing!” he called out, opening the door a fraction so that his face was slightly peeking out. “What’s up, daddy-o?”

He looked at him with a frown. “You look twitchy. Were you drinking?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’d never do it with you in the house.” When his father glared, he rushed to amend. “I’d never do it unless I was of the right age, is what I meant. Of course. I’ve never drank. I’ll never drink. Drinking is for jocks. I’m not a jock.” A pause. “What’s up, daddy-o?”

“I swear I raised you normally,” muttered the man, which was highly offensive. Stiles was just fine. “Lydia is here to pick you up. Are you sure you two are not-”

“Just friends, dad,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be down in a second, let me grab my stuff.”

His father looked at him in suspicion, before rolling his eyes when Stiles just kept smiling slightly, looking deranged, and walked away.

Stiles waited until he could hear the tell tale sound of the third step before letting out a breath and closing the door behind him.

He eyed the mess on the ground with a slight pout. It was always best to repeat the spell twice for maximum efficiency, but at this point he’d have to start it all again, and gods knew Lydia had absolutely no patience.

He quickly turned off the candle and put everything away. He wiped off the pentagram with a sock a then rushed towards Lydia’s car, sparing a quick goodbye to his father as he left.

Lydia was indeed outside by the time he arrived, his bag filled to the brim with plants and other little things Deaton had given him. She narrowed her eyes at him when she saw him. “You look weird. What did you?”

“Practiced a spell or two, no biggie, don’t worry,” he said, waving her off. She did not look or smell particularly different to him, so most likely the spell hadn’t worked.

Or maybe he no longer saw her as a viable romantic partner and the spell was reacting accordingly.

He did not have strong hopes though. The spell was supposed to make you realise who your partner was somehow - his Latin was not that good, yet, and that part Deaton had not translated - and make you able to understand them better.

Oh well.

 

They arrived to the Derek's place in record time.

Derek had asked them to come by because of the spells they had been practicing, and because apparently not every book had been burnt in the Hale Fire. Peter had dug some out of some sort of ‘vault’ apparently and was suspiciously happy to have them read it.

In fact, Peter seemed to find any possible excuse to invite Stiles and Lydia to the depot with the pack. Stiles was not an idiot, he knew it was because he had never given him a straight answer about being part of the pack.

He was surprised, however, by how happy Isaac and Derek appeared to be every time they showed up. If Isaac had a tail, he’d wiggle it with the way he smiled and hung around them when they showed up.

Derek did not smile per se, but Stiles had gotten particularly good at reading eyebrow lately, and his eyebrows were less murderous and more ‘pleased’ when they showed up. Or at least that’s what he chose to believe.

In fact, spending time around Derek had definitely helped him with point number 3 of the list. As well as a few hours on pornhub and on the internet in general.

After all there was very little way of misunderstanding himself getting hard at seeing gay porn or feeling all weird and hot when Derek’s body was pressed against his for one reason or another.

Not that Derek really manhandled him in the way he had at the beginning. Stiles could not believe he actively missed that era in his life.

“Hey guys!” called out Isaac, grinning when he saw them walk out of the car. “You are early, Peter still hasn’t come back. He went to get pizza.”

“Did you guys remember to get a vegetarian, this time around?” asked Lydia, as she walked inside the loft.

It was a new place that Derek had recently purchased. Apparently he did own a house and did not, in fact, live in the depot in the woods. Isaac had laughed when Stiles had expressed his surprise and pleasure, while Derek had scowled at him, though he had not missed the way his ears turned red.

“We have. Jackson did not show up yesterday,” said Derek, appearing from the doorway without his shirt on. Stiles stared a little too long at the droplets of water trailing down his chest and abs.

Yeah. Definitely not straight.

“The books are here,” said Derek, bringing Stiles’ attention back on his face and not his very delicious body. Seriously, how did he look like that? Not even the dudes in porn looked like that. 

“Great,” he said, walking towards the table.

He stopped a few steps away, turning to Derek curiously, as a soft scent hit his nose. “Dude, did you get a new spray?”

It smelled really good.

Derek stared at him like he was crazy. “I just came back from running. This is sweat, not a shower.”

Stiles blinked. He did not smell like sweat, he smelt kind of like lemongrass with a bit-

“Crap,” he muttered under his breath, eyes widening in realisation.

His spell had worked.

It had worked just fine.

“Stiles?” called Derek, his face appearing in Stiles’ field of vision. “Are you-”

“I’m fine,” he said, voice shrill and high pitched, grabbing one of the books and immediately heading towards Isaac’s room. “I’m taking your room, Isaac.”

“Wait, what? Why-” tried the blond, but Stiles had already closed the door behind him.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Derek and he were mates.

Derek was his mate?!

Suddenly, a lot of Peter’s bullshit comments made sense. The clues, and the little things... it made sense.

Because one point of the book that Stiles recalled was that while humans found ‘soulmates’ in the people that were most likely to be it for them, werewolves chose their soulmates.

Which meant Derek chose him.

Derek liked him.

Derek... loved him?!

Mates were for life.

Soulmates.

They were supposed to be together forever and ever.

Which meant Derek chose Stiles and loved Stiles and wanted to be werewolf married to him.

Did Stiles want this for himself and Derek?

Truthfully... No.

Not really.

He had just figured out that he liked men as well as women, and sure, Derek was hot as hell, and Stiles liked the talks they had every now and then, but it was a long way between that and being in love with the guy.

So no, Stiles did not want to be wolf married to freaking Derek Hale, no matter how hot he was.

But... and he couldn’t lie to himself, he was not horrified at the idea. He was not opposed to the idea.

But he also was not particularly fond of it either.

He was very confused and none of it made much sense.

Why would Derek even pick Stiles to begin with? With his looks, he could literally get anyone he wanted.

Not that Derek had many people he could pick, considering as far as Stiles could see, all his friends were currently in the loft at the moment, and one of them was his very creepy uncle.

But still.

Why him?

It took Stiles a good thirty more minutes of silently freaking out before Lydia decided she was over it and barged into the room he was hiding in.

He was both surprised and not at the fact that Derek had let him get away with hiding so long. Because Derek - if books on mates were to be trusted - would let him get away with basically anything if Stiles asked.

Holy shit.

“Are you done being weird?” asked Lydia, looking down at him with a raised eyebrow. “Derek wants us to practice some moves.”

Right.

That was yet another interesting thing that had been incorporated in their day to day activities.

While Jackson was, for all intents and purposes, a member of Derek’s pack, after he had died, his parents were keeping a very keen eye on him. This meant that he could not join in when they went off looking for Boyd and Erica, and barely had time to actively practice with the werewolf, especially regarding his control.

And the only person who could regularly show up on the night of the full moon in his house without drawing suspicion was Lydia. Stiles couldn’t come because of the restraining order that, while it had been redacted, did not mean it was forgotten by his Jackson’s parents.

So it fell up to her, mostly containing a wolfed out Jackson Whittemore.

Derek had not been too pleased by that, especially when Stiles had promised he’d come to help her on the nights the Whittemores weren’t home (and now it suddenly made much more sense) but had to admit that there wasn’t much he could do.

Except teach them how to protect themselves against werewolves. 

They had mountain ash, but Derek insisted that they were trained too, just in case something went wrong and they were stuck in a house with a feral werewolf.

Stiles was quite happy about it. It helped his stamina and general athleticism, which was one of the point of the list he had made - over a month ago - and therefore would help him when lacrosse season started again.

He also went running with Lydia every now and then, which was cool.

Derek was already outside when they showed up, and Stiles couldn’t help but blush when the werewolf looked over at him the second he showed up.

He wondered when Derek realised/decided that he was his mate. He had to have realised already, but he had never made a move. He managed to act normally enough that it took Peter leaving a trail of breadcrumbs and a spell for Stiles to realise the truth.

The werewolf’s face was blank when Stiles stopped in front of him, but Stiles could somehow sense the worry and confusion coming from him. Probably at the fact that Stiles looked very embarrassed and his heart kept beating far faster than it should.

Lydia sat down on the steps of the loft, book on her knees and attention on it. Isaac was laying at her feet, though his eyes were staring at Stiles in silent confusion. Peter was smirking at him when they made eye contact, probably having realised why he was acting so weird.

Stiles hated that man.

“Ready?” called Derek, getting into position.

Was this a bad time to focus on how hot Derek was? And on the fact that this Greek possible sex god had looked at tiny and awkward Stiles and thought ‘yes, I want that one’?

Yes, it was a bad time, he decided, clearing his throat and getting into the position Derek had been hammering in him for the past few weeks. “Yes.”

Derek moved fast, but after two plus weeks of this, Stiles had started to learn the pattern in the man’s movements. He feigned left as soon as Derek went on the offensive, using the bat he had been allowed as weapon and aiming it at the wolf’s feet.

Derek jumped over it without breaking a sweat and Stiles twisted out of range as quickly as he could. 

It continued like a game of cat and mouse for a few more seconds. Everytime Derek got too close to touching him, Stiles used the bat to try and throw him off. In a real life battle this would be, after all, his best shot.

If a werewolf got his hands on him, then it was over for him. If he was in their clutches, it was his pale skin against claws and teeth, and there was no way he was winning that battle.

Stiles concentrated on the pattern of Derek’s attacks, kicking out harshly when the man almost grabbed his leg. Unfortunately for him, his kick packed nothing, and Derek pulled him towards him, with an annoyed expression on his face, one hand pinning his shoulder to the ground.

“Seriously? Kicking was-”

Derek was very close to Stiles’ face as he said this. His face was directly over his, as was half of his body.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him and, before Derek could finish his sentence, pulled his head backwards and then headbutted him as harshly as he could.

Ouch!” complained Stiles, relieved that Derek had gotten off him - it would have become very quickly awkward if he hadn’t - and bringing his hand to his forehead. “What’s wrong with your head?!”

Derek was looking like he was trying hard not to laugh. “I cannot believe you just headbutted me.”

Stiles scowled at him, and then he saw it.

The look.

The way Derek’s fondness seemed the be dripping out of his eyes, the half curl of his lips, the way his face seemed to relax for the first time in a while, at the opportunity of making fun of Stiles.

Fondness, care, amusement.

Stiles was really an idiot for not seeing it earlier.

“I got the spell!” suddenly said Lydia, and Derek and Stiles broke off the staring competition they had been locked in. She was grinning. “I know how to find Boyd and Erica.”

“No,” said Derek, voice flat.

Stiles glared at the older man. “Dude, you are in no position to-”

“No.”

Lydia glared as well. “You cannot do this without us. You couldn’t have done this without us. We are the ones who found the spell, we are the ones who performed it, we are the ones who can get you to Boyd and Erica. You need-”

His eyes flashed red, which did not really have a real effect on the teens. But pavlovian response had them shut their mouths despite that. “You are not coming with me. It’s too dangerous. You’ll get in the way.”

Another peculiarity of the spell was that not only it allowed Stiles to see, quite clearly that Derek was his mate. It also allowed him to sus out his feelings and emotions much more easily than normally.

So while normally a comment like that from Derek would have upset him, Stiles could now see it for what it truly was: Derek was worried about them.

Lydia seemed to prepare herself to tear into him, and Stiles spoke up before she could. He let himself come stand in front of Derek and put his hand on the werewolf’s shoulder.

Surprisingly - or maybe not? When was the last time Derek had hurt him or manhandled him in a violent manner? - Derek did not push him off. Stiles’ heart was beating faster than it should, but he ignored it, keeping eye contact with the Alpha. “Look, Derek. I can understand that you are worried. And it’s valid. Those evil alphas of evil have two of your pack and now the weakest members of your pack want to come with you to fight them. I get it.

“But dude, we have been practicing. We might still be far from good at hand to hand combat, but that doesn’t mean we are useless. Deaton has been teaching us magic. I can shoot. Lydia has tricks up her sleeve. We’ll stay far, if you want us to, but don’t tell us to not come.” He swallowed. “Erica and Boyd are my... I want to say friends, but the word is not right.”

“Pack,” said Derek, and Stiles huffed, ignoring how he could feel Peter’s eyes on him. Derek was watching him as intensely, something vulnerable and hopeful in his eyes.

“Yes. Pack. Right?” he asked, turning to Lydia.

Her arms were crossed around her chest, and she was still glowering at the alpha, but she did not hesitate. “Yes. We are pack, Hale. Get that through your skull and let us help you.”

Stiles smirked at her vehemence, and when he turned to Derek, the werewolf was still looking at him.

The emotions he could feel from him... they were nearly overwhelming.

But not in a way that made him want to run away.

Derek was quite clearly in love with him, and Stiles was not.

But he could imagine himself falling for the older man.

“Okay,” finally said Derek. He blinked, and looked away from Stiles, but did not push him away, or pull his hand out of his hold. “But you two have to listen to me and do exactly what I tell you to.”


Stiles and Lydia did not do exactly what Derek asked them to.

In their defence, who could have, watching their friends/pack being almost decimated by the Alpha pack?

The ritual/spell to find Erica and Boyd had been easy enough to perform. The map of Beacon Hills had lit up in the space where the old Beacon Hills Bank was, which made sense. It was in an almost secluded part of the town, near the woods, and no one really frequented that area anymore.

Of course it was where they were kept.

They hadn’t physically seen Erica and Boyd, but Lydia had used Boyd’s old key to track him and Stiles had used the lipstick Erica had left in his car. Since both had given the same position, then they had to be alive. Right?

Right.

Derek’s plan had been... interesting from the beginning. He refused to call Scott, which everyone agreed with. He also refused to call Jackson which Stiles disagreed with vehemently, as did Peter. Isaac and Lydia though ‘understood’ so it was three against one.

Deaton refused to come help them, which Stiles thought was bullshit. It was not about keeping the natural order of things when the Alpha pack itself was a perversion of said natural order of things.

So in the end it was one Alpha, one very young beta wolf, one zombie beta wolf, a banshee and a spark that only just started growing in their powers.

Derek and the other wolf would infiltrate the bank first while Lydia and Stiles remained on the higher levels, a scent masking spell cast onto them by Lydia. Stiles would break out any trap that could have been there without letting himself be seen (he had gotten really good at manipulating mountain ash, and he had sensed it being there already) and they would try to avoid an actual fight, concentrating on getting Boyd and Erica and then fleeing.

Unfortunately for them, the Alpha Pack had caught on to their presence immediately. The twins were not there, but the other three that Derek had mentioned were.

Deucalion, Ennis and Kali.

The demon wolf had spotted Derek immediately upon their arrival in the bank - thought he had not seen the two humans - and a fight had broken out immediately.

And from the beginning, it was a slaughter. It was three against three, but three of them were Alphas and much stronger.

Even as Lydia urged them to get to the other betas and free them, Stiles knew the chances of them winning was slim to none.

So he had done what he did best.

Improvised.

“Stiles don’t,” hissed Lydia, as he aimed his gun.

“Get to Boyd and Erica,” he instructed her, without looking back, and then moved to another side, to avoid Lydia being noticed before taking the shot.

He was not a perfect shot, so he obviously missed. But it startled the Alphas enough to give the pack a little bit of an advantage, though Derek wasted his by glaring at Stiles.

What a dumbass, couldn’t help but think the teen as Deucalion laughed and then kicked him across the space. But he’s my dumbass, he added on, shooting at Deucalion again.

“A spark!” said the demon wolf, grinning in delight. “I have not seen one in years! Truly, Beacon Hills is the land that keeps on giving.”

Stiles shot at him again, quickly opening his pouch when he missed. Well, it wasn’t as if he was missing, more that Deucalion was quickly in getting out of the way of the bullets.

He was so focused on getting Deucalion - since Derek was still not standing - that he did not notice Kali until she was literally upon him. 

“Hello, little red,” she purred, and Stiles had one second to look up in panic before she swiped at him.

He pulled out of the way. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” he cursed, running away from the direction Lydia had been in before. She must have gotten away, by now, but better safe than sorry. 

Isaac, who had been fighting Kali up until that moment, appeared beside him, his chest looking pretty clawed up and an almost feral look on his face. Stiles was afraid, for a second, but Isaac immediately put himself between Stiles and the woman. “You want him, you’ll go through me.”

“With pleasure!” growled the woman, and she launched herself at Isaac.

Stiles shot at her just as she did so, very pleased that he hit her shoulder squarely and gave Isaac a chance, before he was climbing down from where he was.

A bad idea, sure, but he felt as if staying up there with Isaac and Kali and risking being thrown off was a worse idea.

Derek and Deucalion were fighting once more in earnest, and Peter and Enniss were also going at it quite viciously. Part of Stiles was worried Peter just wanted the Alpha thing once more, but he had read about the ritual of getting someone’s alpha power before. He and Lydia would not let him get away with it.

“Incoming!” came the red head’s sudden voice, and Stiles looked up in slight panic.

Which turned in a grin of happiness when Boyd, Erica and a random brunette joined the fray, each of them automatically going to back up the Pack.

He had known they were okay from the tracking spell, but to see them? God, Stiles had never been so happy and-

“STILES!” shouted Derek, but it was too late.

Stiles paid dearly for his brief moment of putting his guard down, because he was suddenly grabbed by a clawed hand, and pushed against the chest of the demon wolf himself.

His heartbeat skyrocketed, fear gripping him as he felt the claws against his very weak neck.

Oh god, he was going to die.

He was too young to die!

“Well, well, well-” said Deucalion, and Stiles forced himself not to panic or cry at the vindictive smile he could feel on the man’s lips. “I think I have the trump card right here.”

“Let him go,” said Derek, and his face was shockingly human all of a sudden. His eyes though? Those were burning red.

Everyone had stopped fighting, and Stiles could not help notice a small grin on Peter’s face. What the fuck. He had thought the creeper liked him.

“I don’t think so. In fact, I think I shall make him my own beta,” said Deucalion, calm as you please.

“Let him go,” repeated Derek, not moving an inch. “Or I will kill you.”

“You will definitely try,” mocked Deucalion, not even looking nervous when Derek’s claws come out.

“Now!” said the Alpha, and somehow Stiles knew he was talking to him.

He had a moment of confusion and then took a chance, throwing his head back and headbutting Deucalion as hard as he could, and then nothing made sense.

He felt the sharp sting of claws against his neck that made him whimper, and then he was crashing against the ground, hard, because Derek was there.

Stiles had no idea how  the man could move so fast but he had.

And from the ground, as the fighting started up again, he had a first seat view of Derek and his rage as he attacked Deucalion.

Had a first row view of the fear on the man’s blind eyes as Derek quickly gained on him.

And then observed in 4k as Derek literally ripped both his limbs off his body and then used his teeth to rip out his neck.

It was... gruesome.

Stiles stared with wide eyes as Deucalion’s headless body fell to the ground, and did not realise Derek had even moved until the man was beside him. Even the fighting had faded from his ears as he just stared, almost numb, at the ex-Alpha.

“Stiles,” said Derek, coming to crouch beside him. There was blood on his lips, and his eyes were still a little red, but all Stiles could read was his panic. The mate spell thing had run its course, but Stiles could still feel Derek’s concern. “Stiles, are you-”

The boy did not let him finish. Instead he surged forwards and pressed their lips together in a gross and hard kiss that tasted of a lot of things that Stiles did not want to name.

When he let go, the werewolf looked shocked and Stiles gave him a half grin. “Please don’t take my next actions personally.”

“What-”

Then Stiles turned to his left and threw up everything he had ever ate in his life.

Yikes.


Turned out, the brunette who had helped them in the fight was no one other than Coraline Esmeralda “Cora” Hale, also known as Derek’s younger sister who was supposed to have died in the fire and was somehow still alive.

There had been tears, there had been screams, there had been suspicion.

Stiles had left the Hales to their own emotional meltdown, and had patched himself and Lydia up, before going to Boyd and Erica.

The two had been quiet as the werewolves had made their ways towards Derek’s new loft.

Peter had - surprisingly - used a weapon to kill Ennis. That way the werewolf was dead, but he had not gotten the Alpha powers from the kill. Derek had been surprised by it, as had been Lydia and Stiles. 

Kali had run, and would definitely cause them problems in the future, but for now she was not a problem. The twins had not been in the fight, but Deaton had sent them a message saying that they were in his clinic and wanted to ‘turn themselves in’. Derek was supposed to go after them in a while and decide what to do.

Stiles stopped in front of the couch where Erica and Boyd were seated, Isaac between the two of them. All three betas looked up at him, tiredly - they were still injured, after all - and he moved awkwardly on his feet. “Uh. Hey.”

Erica smirked. “Hey, Batman.”

For some reason, that made his eyes immediately tear up. His bones weren’t broken, but it still hurt when he went down on his knees in front of them. He ignored it. “I’m so sorry. I should have come back for you guys, and I did, but it was too late and I should have been back earlier, but I got scared, which is not-”

“Woah,” said Erica, harshly dropping in front of him, her hands clutching his. “Stiles, what?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he was crying for real now. “I’m so sorry, if I tried harder-”

“You would have gotten yourself killed,” said Boyd, eyes kind. He also was on the ground with them. “I’m glad you left, to be honest.”

He watched him in shock. “You were being tortured!”

“And we healed,” said Erica, shrugging. Her eyes bellied that while the injuries were gone, the psychological effects still remained, but she pretended she was fine. “Sti, you’re human.”

“That doesn’t matter!”

“It does, though,” said Boyd, a hand going on his shoulder. “Not that it makes you weak or whatever. You were pretty badass out there.” He cracked a smile. “But you don’t heal as fast as we. If you had stayed, if you went through what we went through, you would have died. And you wouldn’t have gotten back to us.” His smile grew. “I’m ready to bet that without you and your intervention, we would not have gotten out alive.”

“You’d be correct,” said Peter. Stiles looked up to see he and Cora and Derek walking in. The siblings were standing slightly apart, but both had tears still in their eyes. “If it wasn’t for Stiles we would have never found you.”

“Lydia found the spell,” he protested, trying hard not to stare at Derek.

“And I would not have been with them if it wasn’t for you,” pointed out the red head which was true. “Take the damn compliment.”

Stiles wasn't  so sure, but when Erica and Boyd hugged him, he took it.

Derek found him in front of the loft a few minutes later, watching the air in front of him without speaking. He silently sat beside him, and for a few moments they remained quiet, just existing.

“Now what?” finally said Stiles.

Derek raised an eyebrow in question, and Stiles sighed. “Erica and Boyd are back home safely. You also have an extra pack member. What’s next, oh illustrious Alpha?”

Derek’s eyebrows did that thing they did when he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask something and then he steeled himself. “One extra pack member?”

Oh. Stiles bit the inside of his cheek and then decided to go straight for the jugular. “You killed a man for me, today.”

Well, for the pack. But that kill... it had been personal, Stiles had seen it in Derek’s eyes.

Derek’s eyes met his evenly, face in a mask of blankness but in no way any less truthful. “I did.”

“That’s a lot,” said Stiles, swallowing. He was 100% going to have nightmares about this.

Derek nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m your mate,” he added on.

The werewolf’s eyes widened in slight surprise, and then he went back to natural blank. “Mh.”

“You... chose me. Or something like that. Why me?” 

Derek just watched him as if Stiles was dumb, which excuse him, Stiles was not.

“Who else?”

He said with such certainty and vulnerability, as if the answer was just obvious to him. That Stiles was the only possible option.

It did things to him.

“Go on a date with me,” he said, turning to face Derek fully.

Again, his eyebrows did that awkward dance thing, and he sighed. “Look, Stiles. Just because I chose you, doesn’t mean-”

“Go on a date with me,” repeated the teenager.

“Listen, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just-”

“Go on a date with me.”

“I don’t want to force you into this-”

“Go on a date with me.”

Derek finally shut up, looking at Stiles with an almost hopeful expression on his face. He stared at him intently for a couple of seconds. “Are you sure?”

Stiles smiled. “Go on a date with me.”

Derek gave him a hesitant smile back, and then nodded. “Okay.”

There were going to be obstacles, for sure. Kali was still out there, the twins, his dad, Stiles was just coming into his spark, hunters, Allison, his dad, Scott...

But Stiles believed it would be okay.


“Stilinski, hurry up!” called out Lydia, from outside of his house.

“Give me a second!” 

Stiles huffed to himself. Seriously, he had a car. He hadn’t asked her to come pick him up.

Instead of picking up his bag, however, he opened the drawer of his desk, pulling out the list of things he had told himself he’d achieve by the end of the summer.

  • Better friends

It was almost impossible to think that Stiles had gone from having just Scott to have several friends including (shockingly) Jackson. Lydia had been his friend from the beginning, and now so were the beta trio and Cora. They had spent the entire summer together, and Stiles was quite sure he had not had this much fun since his mother died.

His father had been worried at the beginning, but seeing Stiles’ newfound happiness had changed that. So yes, Stiles could now say he had friends. He even went to a couple of parties, even Jackson invited him to his going away party with zero reluctance. It was amazing. 

  • Become better at lacrosse (or just become fitter)

Becoming a member of the pack had done wonders to his figure. Derek did not stop with the training just because the betas had been found, and on top of that, Jackson had decided to give Isaac, Boyd and Stiles all tips on how to be better lacrosse players.

After all, strength and speed was good, but if you didn’t know how to play well, it would take you nowhere. Lydia insisted on running with him every morning still, and Stiles’ muscles had started to become much more defined than before which was awesome.

  • Figure out his sexuality and get a partner

Stiles had gone from not knowing what his sexuality was to dating Derek Hale.

Could you imagine a bigger glow up?

They had ended up having to tell his father, when he had come home to a bunch of teenagers, Derek and Peter Hale in his room. Peter Hale, who was supposed to be dead. Cora Hale, who was also supposed to be dead.

Stiles had wrecked his brain about an excuse, and Peter had not even hesitated in shifting in front of the man.

To his credit, his father had blinked owlishly at the man, grabbed a beer and sat down before demanding a full and in depth explanation.

It was thanks to him that Cora and Peter were both declared alive and the younger beta had a chance to go back to school - much to her distaste. Stiles and his father also had a long conversation with a lot of tears in which the Sheriff revealed that he had, in fact, known about his mother’s witchiness.

Stiles had yet to tell him anything about him and Derek - they were keeping the relationship lowkey and PG-13 for the time being, because of a lot of reasons - but he had the sneaking feeling that his father knew a lot more than he let on.

  • Derek Hale (Hales Hale pack in general) 

Yeah.

Peter had toned down the creepiness, and, other than the initial wariness, Cora was fun to be around. She was like Erica and Derek together, which was hilarious to watch. She also had all sort of dish on her brother, which Stiles appreciated.

And the pack was really coming together, now. Even with the loss of Jackson, they had never been tighter than they were right now.

It was a nice feeling.

Stiles grinned, scrunching up the paper and throwing it in the wastebin.

He had done it.

Lydia pressed the horn once more and Stiles rushed outside, waving at his father and running in Lydia’s car. He’d have taken his, but she had said she’d drive him, and who was he to refuse the illustrious Lydia Martin?

He jumped in the car, giving Cora and Isaac quick high fives. “Ready for junior year?”

“You know, I am.”

There were sore spots, for sure. Allison and Scott were going to be at school, and while avoiding them had been easy in the summer, it would be a little more complicated now.

But the good things outweighted the bad.

Stiles had a pack now.

Fuck Scott McCall.

He made eye contact with Lydia, and they smiled at each other.

Yes. The future was looking bright.