Chapter Text
9 years prior, Beacon hills
The silence was so pronounced that Stiles could’ve sworn he could hear every heartbeat in the room.
“What?”
He hated the way his voice came out: broken and soft and weak. He hated even more how some of their eyes softened, he hated how some of them turned pitying. And he hated worst of all the way Scott’s gaze didn’t falter at all.
“We just think it would be safer for everyone if you weren’t in the pack.”
Stiles frowned, “But –“
“You’re a liability, Stilinski.” Derek cut him off, and the venom laced in his voice was almost enough to have Stiles take an involuntary step backwards, “We can’t keep risking the pack because you’re too weak to fend for yourself.”
For a moment Stiles didn’t feel anything at all. Either that or he felt everything so much that it all just cancelled out. Fear and disbelief, anger and hurt, pain and shock. Too much and too little at the same time. Stiles wanted to scream or cry or laugh until his lungs ran out of oxygen.
Instead he took in one shaky breath and nodded.
“I – okay.”
Someone whimpered, Stiles didn’t – couldn’t – look up to identify who.
Stiles glanced backwards to the door before looking at Scott one last time, “I’ll just… go, then.”
Scott smiled tightly, that same pitying smile he usually sent towards the freshmen who didn’t make the team, “That would be best.”
Stiles walked out of the loft without turning back, even if he could practically feel both alphas gazes burning into his back.
it’s not like he hadn’t seen this coming. The wolves were obvious with their affection, and even more obvious with their dismissal. Lately, the only ones who even bothered to scent mark him anymore were Isaac and Erica, and even then it was only once every few weeks.
Before the entire pack would make sure to be in constant contact with him one way or another. Stiles thought he’d never get used to the constant hugs and cuddles and the breaking into his room through the window. But he had, and he fucking missed it.
Stiles hadn’t pushed, though. Making friends was difficult, keeping them was nigh on impossible for Stiles, so he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise his place in the pack. He’d done everything: he’d researched mythical being after being, cleaned up their messes, tended to their wounds. He’d even slaved away in the kitchen for hours every month, just so that they could eat a home made meal after the fool moon.
And still the pack slipped away. They stopped hugging and laughing with him. They stopped asking him if he was doing okay. They forgot to call him to hang out until they needed information.
Stiles had thought he could at least remain useful but no – no he was nothing more than a liability to them.
Even Derek, who he could have sworn smiled sometimes, just the barest up ticks of his lip, when Stiles told a stupid joke to lighten the mood. Derek, who liked to box him into corners and then stare at him for long moments. Derek fucking Hale, the guy Stiles thought he might actually have something with.
It didn’t matter anymore.
Stiles drove home, grateful for once that his dad had taken a night shift, and went straight to his room. He paused for a moment before digging through his mountains of research for a small silk bag filled to the brim with mountain ash.
He walked over to his window, closed and locked it. Then he took a deep breath before drawing a thin line of mountain ash.
That night Stiles cried himself to sleep, and when he heard soft tapping on his window, he buried his head further into the blankets until it went away.
Present, Manhattan
“Stiles!”
Stiles perked up as the bell jingled, alerting everyone in the bakery to their latest customers arrival.
“Joe! What’s up, man?”
Joe, Stiles’s absolute favourite regular and packmate, smiled and shook his head, “Ah, same old same old. Maria got a promotion at the firm, though.”
“Really? Tell her I say congratulations.” Stiles grinned, Maria had been working her ass off to get that promotion. He set a mental reminder to bake her some cupcakes and bring them up later, “You want your regular?”
“Yeah.” Joe nodded, “How’ve you been, kid?”
“Joe, I’m twenty seven.” He deadpanned, reaching down to grab a fresh bagel while he talked.
“Pah! Practically straight out of high school.”
Stiles rolled his eyes. Joe and Maria had set eyes on him nine years ago and since then had refused to see him as anything more than a eighteen year old kid. The couple were nearing their fifties and, while Joe was content to retire and spend most of his day hanging out at the bakery, Maria was still the kickass lawyer he’d met almost a decade ago.
“I’m just as good as I was when you asked me last night.”
Joe snorted, “You coming to dinner tonight? We’re celebrating.”
The couple lived upstairs in the apartment block above his bakery.
Stiles nodded, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, and you know how much Nathan loves Maria’s pies. Are Mina and Ben home?”
“Yeah, finally decided to come see their old man. Collage is keeping them far too busy for my liking.“ Joe said, exchanging his tenner for a bagel and a steaming cup of coffee. “Invite the rest of the pack, will ya?”
“Sure thing, Joe.” Stiles watched the man take a seat at the table that had practically become his designated spot before grabbing his phone and opening the group chat.
Group chat: ROWOmerOWO Pack
me: Guess who’s invited to Maria’s for a celebratory dinner tonight??
Mina : Me & benny boy r back in town for the week as well :D
Gwendolyn: She got the promotion?? OMG count me in
Nate: Whoo Hoo!! Is she making pie?
me: yes nathan, there will be pie
Nate: yay!!!!!
Mikeymouse: Jonah and I can make it. See u guys tonight
Lyds : I’m there.
Katieperry: I’m so in
Katieperry: so proud of Maria!!!
Me : cool I’ll tell joe we’re all in.
“Yo joe!” Stiles said across the bakery, the man in question raised his eyebrows with a mouthful of bagel, “They can all make it.”
Joe answered back with a delighted thumbs up.
The oven dinged in the back and Stiles made his way over to grab the tray full of fresh bread. Just as he laid the rolls on the counter, Louise, one of the undergrad students he employed, walked in the back door.
“Morning, boss.”
“Hello, Lou. Can you man the front today? I’ve got cupcakes to make.”
Louise nodded, “What’s the occasion?”
“Maria got her promotion.”
“What?! Oh my god, tell her I say congrats.”
He smiled. Everyone living in this corner of the city and their mother knew Maria and Joe, the couple was like the collective grandparents of the entire street. He had no idea how they managed it but Stiles had never once seen either of them misremember a name or a backstory.
Stiles, by virtue of living next to them for the last decade and being their emissary, was closer than most.
“Joe’s eating his bagel.” Stiles said, nodding his head towards the front.
Louise beamed and all but skipped out of the kitchen to go greet the older man.
9 years prior, Beacon hills
He was getting out.
At this point stiles just didn’t care. He was two months out from being a legal adult, he had enough credits to graduate early, and he had a place all rented out for him in New York city.
All in all he was just done with this hellmouth of a town.
The pack – The pack, not his pack. Not anymore – had been ignoring him like their life depended on it. Even Isaac, who shot him pathetic little puppy eyes whenever no one else was looking, wouldn’t say a word to him. Derek glared whenever he saw him around town, as if Stiles had meant nothing to him. And Deaton was just as cryptic as ever, though that wasn’t so much new behaviour as it was newly irritating. The man refused to tell him what the hell a ‘spark’ was and none of his research was turning out fruitful.
His only shining light was in the form of one Lydia Martins, the absolute last person he’d expected to stick up for him. And yet.
She hadn’t been there the night they kicked him out, her mother had dragged her out of town for a spa weekend. But the second she got back, when she’d seen the pack shunning Stiles, she’d leapt to his defence. He hadn’t witnessed the verbal beatdown, but from all accounts it was legendary.
She’d even gone so far as to sit with Stiles during their shared lunch period, effectively ostracising herself from both the pack and the popular kids. He almost couldn’t believe that this was the same girl who hadn’t even known his name three years ago.
Luckily for Stiles, both Lydia and his dad were totally down with his plan to get away. Lydia was even planning to come with him.
And Oh! He’d almost forgot to mention, but his relationship with his dad had improved tremendously. No more wolf pack equals no more random bruises equals no more lying about said random bruises; plus Lydia had made the executive decision for the both of them and had brought the sheriff up to date with all things supernatural.
The sheriff took it all surprisingly well. Like it was almost worrying how well his dad took to the supernatural, Stiles was more weirded out by his dads reaction to the truth than the truth itself.
“Honestly, kid.” John had said, “I’m just glad you’re not involved in a drug ring.”
“That’s what you thought?” Stiles frowned, incredulous.
“Don’t look at me like that, it makes total sense.”
Then John pressed a sandwich into his hands and shoved him out the door, and that was the end of that conversation.
Stiles hadn’t even bothered to try and convince his dad to come with him. Despite everything, John Stilinski loved Beacon hills and he’d defend this town until his dying days. The best he’d managed to do was get him to promise to visit them in Manhattan.
Stiles and Lydia had decided on Manhattan mostly because it was as far away from Beacon hills as they could go without leaving the country. And also because Lydia was gunning for an internship, and one day a job, at Stark industries – Stiles was just totally cool with being that close to the avengers.
Three days ago they’d gone to the principle and graduated together, now Stiles was shoving the last of his bags into Roscoe. It was early, barely even six in the morning and the sun was just coming up. His dad was inside, making the both of them coffee before he took off to pick up Lydia and drive them to the airport.
He kicked the door shut the moment he’d secured all his stuff.
For a moment Stiles just stood in the driveway he’d walked up all his life, taking in the calm, almost serene atmosphere. Of course, life in Beacon hills was rarely, if ever, serene – but it did paint a pretty picture. If everything went according to plan, he’d never see this place again.
Stiles was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the angry alpha storming towards him until a hand slammed onto the hood of his car.
“You’re leaving?!”
Stiles blinked at Derek before slowly raising one eyebrow, “What do you care?”
Derek growled, “You can’t leave.”
Stiles used to love how much taller Derek was than him, he used to love how effectively the older man could box him in. Now he just scowled up at the wolf, violently ripping his wrist out from where Derek had grasped it.
“Literally fuck off, dude. You’re not my alpha, you’re not my anything .”
Then Derek had the fucking gall to flinch like he was the victim in this situation, and Stiles just lost it.
“No. you don’t get to show up at my house after three months of glaring and radio silence. You don’t get to look at me like I betrayed you, not when we both know it’s the other way around.” Stiles pressed his palms into Derek’s shoulders and pushed, it was only because he wasn’t expecting it that Derek stumbled back a step, “Yes, I am leaving. And, If I have anything to say about it, you will never see me again. I certainly don’t want to see you ever again. So you go back to your pack and fucking stay there like a good fucking bitch.”
Derek opened his mouth – to argue? Apologise? – stiles didn’t care.
“I don’t want to hear it, Derek. Leave. Now.”
And then he watched as the Alpha retreated with his tail between his legs. Derek glanced back, once, and Stiles forced his face to remain impassive.
“You okay, Stiles?” He turned at the sound of his fathers voice. The man in question was leaning against the door frame, two steaming hot cups of coffee in hand.
He took a deep breath before nodding, “I will be.”
The sheriff walked towards him, handing him his mug before sitting next to him on Roscoe’s hood.
“I’m going to miss you so much.”
Stiles took a sip.
“I love you, son.”
“yeah," he chocked out, "yeah i love you too, dad."
Present, Manhattan
“Nathan! Put on your fucking pants, we’re going to be late!”
“We live next doors, how could we possibly be late?!”
Stiles sighed, pinching the skin between his eyes as he watched his husband jump up and down trying to put on his pants.
“I swear to god, I married a toddler.” Stiles raised a hand, and said a quick Gaelic spell that had the skinny jeans flying up Nathan's legs.
Said toddler just grinned, “Thanks babe.”
“Whatever, dude. Let’s go.” Stiles groaned, grabbing the container full of cupcakes while he simultaneously shoving his husband out the door. If Nathan wanted to, he could root himself to the floor and refuse to move no matter how hard Stiles pushed – perks of werewolf strength. But Nathan just liked messing with him, so he allowed himself to be manhandled.
The walk to Maria and Joe’s place took a grand total of thirty seconds and the door swung open the moment they knocked.
“Congratulations!” Stiles and Nathan said in unison when Maria opened the door.
“Oh, thank you, boys! Come in, come in. Everyone else is inside.”
Stiles shot Nathan a look that translated to: “See? What did I tell you? Idiot.”. He received a sheepish smile in response.
Gwen, Mike, and Lydia were sitting on the couch, all three of them entranced by one of Joe’s epic stories. Mina and Ben were present as well, lounging at their fathers feet. Nathan gave stiles a peck on the cheek before rushing over to join them. It was a well known fact that Joe had been through some shit, and hence told the best tales.
Stiles waved at them all before following Maria into the kitchen, where Katie and Jonah had both already been put to work making pastries.
“I see you’ve taken care of dessert, Stiles?” Maria said.
“Yep. Strawberry with a hint of coffee, just the way you like it.”
“You’re too sweet.” She came forward to pinch his cheeks, laughing as he dodged.
Katie bumped her hip against his as he settled next to her and began to fold minced meat into the dough she’d just sliced.
“How was work?”
Stiles hummed in response, “Alright, I guess. Remember that kid, Peter?”
“The precious little puppy you keep mentioning?” Jonah asked over his shoulder.
“That’s the one.” Stiles sighed, “Yeah, he swung by again. I’m worried about him.”
Katies brows furrowed, “Why?”
“He’s so skinny!” Stiles whined. “I keep giving him extra portions but it’s not helping at all.”
Peter was quickly becoming one of Stiles’s favourite regulars. Second only to Joe and Maria. The kid had started popping into his bakery about three months ago. He always ordered a lunch set, in which Stiles put almost triple the usual amount of food, and three cups of coffee to go.
Stiles knew that the kid wasn’t eating enough, if the way he easily scarfed down three peoples worth of food was anything to go by, but he had no idea what else he could do. It’s not like he even knew who Peter’s parents were, or if he even had parents.
“When does he usually come around?” Maria asked.
“’round 3 o’clock every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow then.” She nodded, “My boss gave me the weekend off.”
Stiles breathed out in relief. If anyone could help Peter without coming off as creepy it was Maria. She just had that kind of vibe to her; Maria could probably steal someones watch in broad daylight by simply asking for it and walking away.
“Anyway,” He said, “How was your days? Katie, Jonah. Any trouble at the zoo?”
“Nah.” Jonah smiled, “We got a new exhibit, though. Katie and I got banned from working with them, apparently we set the new guys off.”
“Oh?” Stiles asked. “What’s the exhibit?”
“wolves.”
The three of them broke into snickers until Maria wacked them each over the head with a wooden spoon.
“focus.” She scolded, flashing her red eyes.
They immediately settled down. Stiles himself wasn’t a werewolf, but he’d been fully accepted into Maria’s pack so he felt the command just as strongly as Katie and Jonah.
“yes, alpha.” They coursed and she smiled at them, satisfied, before turning back to the pasta sauce she was making.
The rest of dinner passed easily. Stiles spent most of his time halfway onto Nathan's lap, which nobody commented on for the fact that Gwen was practically draped across Jonah and Katie was snuggled into Mike’s side. Maria shook her head at her pack before sitting herself primly onto her husband’s lap.
It had been a while since the whole pack had gathered, what with both Mina and Ben off at collage and Lydia off on business, so everyone was soaking up the feeling of having the pack bonds so strong for the first time in months.
It was nice.
9 years prior, Manhattan
“Who are you?”
Stiles blinked up at the lady asking the question. She was tall, definitely 6 feet at least, with kind but stern features. Her dark hair was pulled into an elegant bun at her nape and she was dressed in a killer pantsuit. Stiles had the strangest urge to bare his neck in deference.
“Um, I’m Stiles.” He gestured to the open door behind him. Lydia poked her head out the door and Stiles could practically see her checking out the woman’s outfit, “This is Lydia. We’re just moving in.”
The lady sniffed delicately, “You two positively reek of magic.”
“Excuse me?” Lydia said at the exact same time stiles said: “Wait, Seriously?”
She nodded, “Under whom were you trained?”
Stiles and Lydia looked at each other, then back to her, before Stiles hesitantly asked, “Um, Trained?”
Now the women looked downright incredulous, “You’ve not been trained? What are you both, sixteen? Seventeen?”
“Eighteen, ma’am.” Lydia said.
“Eighteen! Dios mío, put those boxes down and follow me.” They both immediately complied, though neither could identify why exactly they followed her orders so easily, “My name is Maria, by the way. I am the alpha of the Romero pack.”
The two teens silently followed Maria up three flights of stairs before she knocked on one of the doors.
“Maria?” a woman swung open the door, looking like the archetype for one of those new magic practitioners, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing wrong exactly, Gina.” Maria waved a hand at Stiles and Lydia, “These two, though, have received no training.”
Gina’s brows pinched together, “Oh dear. Do you two know what you are?”
“I’m a banshee,” Lydia said, “He’s something called a Spark.”
“A spark and a banshee!” Gina gasped in surprise, “with no formal training at all?”
“Uh no.” Stiles frowned.
“Come in, then. You’re in luck, children. I’m a spark myself, I’d be happy to mentor you,” She smiled at Stiles, “And you, banshee, I have a few friends who can help you.”
The main area of the apartment was best described as a grown up version of a blanket fort. Every surface available was covered in what was almost definitely homemade crochet blankets and throws. Anywhere that wasn’t layered in yarn had a healthy dosage of candles in its place. Gina also had a fluffy couch and a TV that looked at least a decade out of date.
The kitchen, though, is the part that really caught stiles eye. It was really the only part that was spared the blanket draping, and it was absolutely beautiful. Even from just glancing Stiles could see that Gina’s kitchen was well equipped and spacious as hell compared to the rest of the place.
Stiles had always enjoyed cooking, whether it was healthy dishes that he had to be real creative about in order to get his dad to even try or the meaty dinners he used to put out after every full moon. That memory was a bit sour now, what with them being kicked out and leaving the pack respectively, but Stiles wasn’t going to quit making anything he loved because of them.
While Stiles salivated over the thought of using that state of the art oven, Lydia grimaced slightly at the bright colours and strong scents.
“What are your names?” Gina pointed them towards her couch, “And, are you two in school currently?”
Lydia nodded, “Lydia, and I’m enrolled in the mathematics course at NYU.”
“Oh that’s just perfect!” Gina whooped, “My friend Doreen, she’s doing her masters in physics right now. I’ll connect you and she’ll teach you everything you need to know. Doreen was just telling me how much she’d like to mentor a fellow banshee.”
“I’m taking a gap year.” Stiles said when Gina looked at him pointedly. “Oh and my name is Stiles.”
“Lovely, I’ll expect you here 8 am tomorrow morning. And I’m warning you now: Spark training is very demanding.”
Stiles saluted her with a grin, “Yes Ma’am.”
“Soda or water?” Gina asked and, when they all answered water, waved her hand in the direction of the kitchen. A minute later four glasses of iced water floated into each of their hands. “Now, would you two mind telling me how you’ve received no training and yet know exactly what you are?”
“Why are you both so surprised that we’ve had no training?” Stiles said.
Gina sipped her water, “Well, it’s quite unusual to get as old as you both are without having had a mentor.”
“What do you mean?”
“Usually your untrained magic would have drawn a mentor to you. My own mentor had the sudden inspiration to fly from Toronto to New York on the night of my fourteenth birthday. But I suppose it’s the other way for you two, hmm? Moving into this building, that just happened to house the only spark in the New York, and one with direct ties to a banshee no less.”
Huh, thought stiles, huh.
“And it’s just that,” Gina continued, “Ones such as yourself, who reach the end of their adolescence without training, their magic tends to be, how do I day this: frayed – almost? its like the magical equivalent of an omega wolf. You are both very, very luck to have come here when you did. One year more and you’d probably had to have had both your magics sealed to prevent you going mad.”
Lydia and Stiles both looked at Gina in alarm. She laughed.
“Not to worry, there’s plenty of time for you to learn. Your magics not even begun to fray yet.”
“So,” Maria said, noticing easily how uncomfortable the two teens looked, “How do you know what you are?”
Lydia shifted in her seat, “We come from a small town in California, it’s called Beacon hills. We used to, um, well we used to be in a pack.”
Maria raised an eyebrow, “Used to?”
“They kicked me out.” Stiles said, almost a whisper, “Said I was a liability. Lydia left the pack when she found out.”
Maria gasped, “They knew you were a spark and still thought you were a liability?”
“Ah, No. They didn’t know. I was told by the pack emissary, he was a druid.”
“Why didn’t he mentor you?” Gina asked.
“Deaton is a shifty guy, never gave me a straight answer when I asked about the spark.”
Gina made a vague noise of disapproval, “Well, no matter. You’re with us now. Lydia, here.” Gina handed Lydia a strip of paper with a phone number jotted down, “Call her soon, she’s excited to meet you.”
“Thank you.” She said, and Stiles had never seen Lydia so excited.
Maria ushered them out the door and walked them both back downstairs, explaining the state of the supernatural affairs the whole way.
Apparently there were three other werewolf packs in Manhattan, but all of them were allies and met up regularly to enforce positive inter-pack relations. The apartment building they’d moved into was about three quarters supernatural – and the mundane population was mostly clued in on their neighbours secrets at that.
Stiles and Lydia listened to the Alpha explain all of this with wide eyes. Here was a plethora of supernatural creatures all peacefully living under one roof, something they’d never have believed possible from their experiences in Beacon hills.
There was a succubus and incubus couple living three doors down from them, both of whom were totally happy to seduce each other into bed instead of unsuspecting humans. A group of Dökkálfar (Norse dark elves, Maria explained) were renting a huge studio apartment four floors up, they apparently had a long standing semi-friendly rivalry with the Ljósálfar (light elves, also Norse, Maria promised to lend Stiles her bestiary later) that lived next door.
A Seelie and her human girlfriend were living one floor above them, apparently just for the next few decades, though, before they migrated to the elf court.
“Oh!” Maria said when they reached Stiles and Lydia’s apartment, “You will join us for dinner tonight?”
Stiles and Lydia nodded at the same time.
Maria beamed and pointed at a door painted bright yellow, “Perfect, we’re right over here. Dinner is at eight.”
Present, Manhattan
“Mr Parker, I presume.” Maria slid into the spare seat at the boy’s table without waiting for an answer.
Stiles hid his giggles behind his palm as he watched Peter fidget nervously in his seat, swallowing the bacon in his mouth so he could say: “Um, yes ma’am. That’s me. Peter Parker at your service.”
Maria smiled, “Stiles was right, you are adorable.”
Peter blushed, “He – Mr. Stilinski said what?”
“Oh my god, kid.” Stiles called across the bakery, “It’s Stiles, please. I’m like ten years older than you.”
“Sorry Mr. Stilinski.”
Stiles groaned.
“Peter,” Maria said and Peter focused his attention back on her, “It has come to my attention that you’re not eating enough food.”
“What?” He blinked, “Yes I am.”
“I just watched you eat enough food to feed a family of four and I can still hear your stomach growling.”
“That was just the lunch set!” Peter set his wide eyes on Stiles.
Now it was Stiles’s turn to blush, “Sorry kid, I’ve kinda been giving you a little extra.”
“Mr. Stilinski! How much extra?” The poor kid looked horrified.
“Peter, it’s fine.” Stiles waved his hand at him, “I make enough that I can spare some extra bacon.”
“I’m not that hungry ma’am. I just –“ Peter said.
“Maria.”
“Maria,” He corrected himself, Stiles frowned – how come Maria got first name privileges?, ”I just don’t really eat at school.”
“Don’t lie to me young man.”
“I’m not –“
“I can hear the uptick in your heart.”
“What?”
“And I also know you aren’t completely human.”
This time Stiles and Peter yelped at the same time, “What?!”
Maria tilted her head, taking one long sniff of the air, “Chemicals, cologne and… you smell like spiderwebs.”
“What the fuck.” Peter whispered, less of a question than a statement, then he blushed as his words registered.
“I’m sorry.” Stiles said, “If I’m understanding this correctly – and I really, really hope I’m not. Your saying that Peter is… part spider?”
Thank god nobody else was currently in the bakery.
Maria frowned, “Yes, the scent of it is in his skin.”
“Oh my god.” Stiles whispered, then louder, “Oh my god. You’re that spider guy from YouTube.”
“What? No – that’s not –“
“Peter you caught a bus –“
“Mr Stilinski –“
“You’re like twelve what the fu-“
“Hey! I’m seventeen.”
Stiles laughed, only slightly hysterically, “Peter that is so not the point.”
“How the heck did you even figure it out by smelling me?” Peter slumped back into his chair, resigned to having to explain his spidermaning.
Stiles raised his eyebrow at Maria, she nodded once.
“Maria’s a werewolf, my Alpha.”
“What?!”
“And I am a spark – wait, you don’t know what that is. I’m like, I don’t know, a wizard but cooler. Actual wizards kind of suck.”
Peters mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish, “There are actual wizards?”
“Yeah, but they’re super uptight. Always going on and on and on about rules and forbidden knowledge and –“
“Stiles.” Maria cut him off with a fond smirk, he stopped talking and gave peter a sheepish smile.
“Anyway,” Stiles said, “you’re the spider dude?”
“I think the fact that werewolves are real is more important.” Peter pointed out.
“Long story short: every supernatural creature ever is probably real. Now, why the hell are you fighting crime?”
Peter blinked, “I’m helping people.”
“Yeah,” Stiles said, “But you’re doing it on an empty stomach with no back up. What the hell are you planning to do if you get shot or stabbed or something?”
“I have back up.” The kid mumbled.
“Who?”
“Mr. Stark.”
“Mr. Stark? As in Tony Stark? Iron man? The same man who is currently in China?”
Peter frowned, “Why do you know he’s in China?”
“My friend Mike is a big fan.” Maria huffed a laugh, her and Stiles both knew that Mike was the closest thing you could get to a stalker without actually being one. “Point is: The man is in China, how is he supposed to help you from there?”
“Wait,” Peter paused, “You don’t want to stop me.”
Stiles snorted and shook his head, “I was just like you at your age. Nothing I say or do is going to stop you going out there. But I can at least make sure you eat enough food so you don’t pass out in the middle of a fight.”
Maria fished around in her purse before pulling out a memo pad.
“Here Peter, this is both mine and Stiles’s number. You will call us if you need back up, my pack will come.” Maria shot Stiles an amused look, “The entire pack is quite endeared to you already.”
“huh?”
“Stiles has been gushing about you for weeks.”
“He has?” Peter said at the same time Stiles said: “Maria.”
“Oh yes, his husband is this close to contacting adoption agencies at this point.”
Stiles sighed, it wasn’t just Nathan who wanted to adopt Peter, the whole damn pack was highly invested in this childs wellbeing thanks to his big mouth, “Maria, we don’t know the kids situation.”
“I have an aunt.” Peter said.
“I’d like to meet her.” Maria said.
“No! she doesn’t know about – about anything!”
Stiles shrugged, he knew the feeling of wanting to keep your loved ones out of whatever danger you were meddling in, but Maria frowned.
“That won’t do.”
“What – but –“
“Peter,” She said, “You cannot hide things like this from the people you love.”
The boy practically deflated in front of them, “I’m just trying to keep her safe.”
“Damn,” Stiles said, “You really are just like me. I hid my powers from my dad for the exact same reason, trust me dude, it doesn’t work out. The people targeting you will get to them anyway and they’ll be worse off than if you prepared them for the possibility.”
“Bring her with you next Saturday.” Maria insisted, “We will help break the news.”
“I – okay.” Peter sighed.
“Great.” Stiles clapped his hands together, “Next order of business. How much do you need to eat?”
He shook his head slightly, “I don’t know.”
“Okay, so three portions obviously isn’t enough. That’s what I usually give the wolves, anyway. Are you like semi-full or still starving?”
Peter hesitated for all of a second before he answered, “Starving.”
“Right I’m doubling it. And I’m packing you something for dinner. God, you need breakfast too. Where do you live anyway?”
“Um Queens. Why?’
“Shit, Queens? What the hell are you doing in Manhattan so often?”
“I have an internship as SI.”
“No shit?” Stiles blinked, “Do you, per chance, know my friend Lydia?”
“Martin?”
“Yes!”
“Of course I know her, everyone knows her.”
“Oh my god.” Stiles said again, for the millionth time that day, “you’re the kid.”
“Huh?”
“Maria, he’s the kid Lydia’s been telling us about. The one that works with Tony Stark.”
Maria laughed, “Of course you two would semi-adopt the same child.”
“I’m so confused right now.” Peter mumbled.
Stiles nodded, “That makes two of us kid. Can you make it down here every day?”
Peter shrugged, “I mean, sure. I’ll just swing down as spider-man now that you know.”
“Spider-man?” Maria asked.
“Uh – yeah. That’s what I’ve been calling myself.”
“Cool.” Stiles said, “See you tomorrow then kid.”
9 years prior, Manhattan
“What?”
Gina smirked at his confused expression, “We’re making cupcakes.”
“My first lesson…” He said, “is cupcakes?”
“Don’t think I didn’t see you drooling over my kitchen yesterday.”
“I mean, it’s beautiful.” Stiles opened his arms in a sweeping motion to emphasize his point, “But how does this help train my spark?”
Gina grinned, “Oh, did I forget to mention? No hands.”
Stiles yelped, “What?”
“A spark is not like any other kind of magic, Stiles. We can dabble in anything and everything, our only limit is ourselves. Now, I could teach you spells and enchantments and all that other boring stuff – or, I could teach you to shape your energy to your will.”
“Just to be clear – I could dabble in potions and spells?”
“Of course, some things are even easier with a little bit more direction. But you learn to do without first. This way you never become reliant on words or ingredients.”
Stiles gulped, “Right… let’s do this then.”
-
“Oh shit.” He mumbled, right before the entire bag of flour exploded over both their heads.
“Stiles!”
-
“This is going better than last time.”
He said, then proceeded to launch the bowl he was stirring out the window.
“Hey!” A man shouted from the streets, “I’m walkin’ here!”
-
“Maybe we should try bread.” Gina frowned, hair covered in icing and chocolate chips.
Stiles gave her a sheepish grin.
-
Stiles and Gina sat on her fluffy couch, each working their way through a couple of slices of freshly baked bread.
“Your so good at this when you don’t use magic.” She commented.
-
“Fuck fuck fuckity fuck!”
In the end, Stiles figured out how to magic an oven back together before he managed to make magical toast.
-
“You did it.” Gina said, eyes wide as saucers.
“Holy shit I did it.”
Sat on the counter was a perfectly baked loaf of bread, made entirely by Stiles force of will.
“And it only took,” Stiles looked up and took a peak at the tally board they’d started three weeks ago, “68 attempts.” He paused, “Hey Gina?”
“Yeah?”
“You wanna throw this loaf out and go for one more attempt?”
“What? why?”
Stiles did his best impression of an innocent boy, “No reason.”
Gina snorted, “Nice try kid, we’re officially moving back to cupcakes.”
“Ugh.”
8 years prior, Manhattan
“Really?” Lydia asked.
Maria smiled, “Really. You’ve both improved tremendously under your mentors, and my family and I have grown quite fond of you in the meantime.”
“What if they don’t like us?” Stiles said, “I mean, our last pack kicked me out.”
“They’ll love you. Mina and Ben already do. And my children don’t know how to keep their mouths shut, so do expect them to already know quite a bit about you.”
Stiles blew out a breath, “Okay, okay we’ll come.”
“Lovely.” And with that, Maria walked out of their apartment, kicking the door closed behind her.
“Stiles?”
“Yeah, Lyds.”
“It’ll be fine,”
“I hope so.”
-
Turns out everything was fine. More than fine actually. Stiles and Lydia got on with the Romero pack like a house on fire.
Maria had dragged the lot of them to the Fresh Creek nature preserve at the early hour of six in the morning, where the rest of the pack was set to meet them. Mina and ben, 13 and 11 years old respectively, were bouncing about with all the energy of excited puppies – which, technically, they were. Joe trailed behind his kids, nursing a strong cup of black coffee and some killer eyebags.
Stiles and Lydia walked just in front of Maria, who brought up the rear end of their entourage.
They walked for a good half hour, not following any known trail, before coming across a clearing where five other people were busy stretching.
“Good morning.” Maria called as they walked up to the group.
“Maria!” One of the girls chirped, “Good Morning!”
“Everybody, I would like to introduce Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski.”
The clearing was quiet for a moment, then:
“Hello!”
“What do you do?”
“Where do you work?”
“Are you students?”
“I’m Katie!”
Lydia and Stiles blinked in surprise, before turning to Maria for a quick run down of who was who.
“This is Gwen,” She said, pointing at a blonde girl in camo sweat pants, “She’s half-Vila.”
Stiles tilted his head, “Like in Harry potter?”
Gwen laughed and rolled her eyes, obviously used to getting that question, “Vila not Veela. My mother was a spirit of the wind.”
He nodded, “Cool.”
“That’s Mike, he and Gwen are dating. He’s my beta and second in command.”
Mike gave them a ‘sup’ nod of his head.
“This is Jonah and Katie, also dating, both of them are werewolves.”
The couple waved enthusiastically.
“And finally, we have Nathan. He was just bitten three moons ago.”
“Uh… hi.” The man awkwardly waved, rubbing a tan hand through a nest of curls on his head, Stiles was instantly endeared.
Though it was near impossible to talk to the pack for the first two hours – running at a frankly ridiculous pace through an uneven terrain made sure of that – Lydia managed to have a nice chat with Gwen who, despite her wind powers, did not have superhuman speed. Gwen was into aerospace engineering and Lydia couldn’t help but be delighted at the thought of having someone to talk to who actually understood advanced physics.
Stiles paced a little bit ahead of them, mostly keeping in time with the kids. Both Mina and Ben were born wolves, so they’re powers were coming in waves, right now superspeed was not on the cards, though Mina was getting faster every week.
After the muscle melting exercise routine Maria put everyone through, the pack all piled into two cars and drove back to the apartment complex for a late breakfast.
Stiles got stuffed in with Joe, Mina, Jonah, Katie, and Nathan. The car was only a four seater and while Katie didn’t mind sitting on Jonah’s lap, both Nathan and Stills were beetroot red by the time the apartment building came into sight. Not that Stiles thought sitting in the lap of a pretty werewolf was a hardship or anything, but Katie and Mina’s not so subtle sniggers made Stiles flush even more than he already was.
When the car rolled to a stop, Nathan opened the door and got out, effectively lifting and carrying Stiles out of the car before gently placing him on the floor.
Stiles grinned at the taller man, “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Nathan smiled back before heading off to where Maria had just pulled up. Stiles watched him for a moment before making his way over as well.
“Hey Stiles, check it out.” Lydia nudged him when he came close enough, “Libby’s Pizza’s moving locations.”
Stiles eyed the soon-to-be vacant lot. Libby’s had been there since long before Stiles and Lydia moved in. It had actually been the reason they’d decided to rent an apartment here and not three blocks down. Stiles had been very excited to have a pizza place right underneath their apartment.
But now Libby was moving out.
“Hey,” Stiles called to the group, “You guys go on up, I just want to check something out.”
The pack nodded their agreement and rushed to be the first into the elevator, the four left outside (Mike, Ben, Katie, and Nathan) pouted before starting up the stairs. Stiles muffled his laughter behind his palm.
“Libby?” Stiles asked, “You in here?”
“Stilinski!” A voice came from the back, “What’s up?”
Libby was a thirty year old, rock and roll, pizza selling badass and Stiles wanted to be her when he grew up. Right now she had on a faded Metallica shirt that was stained heavily with all sorts of food stuff and had her purple hair stuffed into a messy ponytail.
“Since when are you relocating?”
Libby bounced on the heels of her feet, “Kid, you won’t believe this but I got an offer to start up business down in L.A, three whole stores!”
“Holy shit, Libs! Congratulations!” He rushed forward to grab her in a hug, “But I can’t believe you’re leaving. Ugh, now some rando is going to move in down here.”
“Aw come on kid, it won’t be that bad.”
“It won’t be the same.”
Libby rolled her eyes at Stiles’s dramatic delivery, then her eyes lit up. “You like to cook, don’t ya kid?”
“Uh, yeah,” Stiles said, “Love it.”
“Then why don’t you take the store.”
“What?!”
“Turn it into a diner, or a bakery. Whatever you want.”
“Libby, I haven't even gone to college yet.”
“Stiles,” She said, “you’ve got talent, I’ve tasted your dishes.”
“I can’t pay the bills, I’m only working part time right now.”
“Hey, I’ve still got four months on the contract. I was gonna use it to find a buyer but, eh. You use it to set up, start making money. You can pay me back over time.”
And then Stiles was hugging her again, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
7 years prior, Beacon Hills
“Face it, Derek.” Jackson says through gritted teeth, “We need to contact Stilinski.”
The pack was gathered in the loft, all of them a little worse for wear. Scott was leaning against Isaac on the couch, both alpha and beta knocked out, as they had been for the past three hours. Cora was clutching her stomach, where blood continued to pour even as her body stitched itself back together.
Jackson was all but healed, but the blood from the cuts on his face had not been washed off.
“He left.” Derek all but growled, “We can’t –“
“He didn’t leave.” Erica spat from her place in Boyd’s arms, “You and Scott kicked him out.”
Derek flashed his eyes at her and she settled back down with a glare. The alpha surveyed his pack – with Scott out of commission for the moment, he was their sole leader – they were really just a bunch of teenagers. Even if most of them had celebrated their twentieth birthdays this year, none of them had matured much.
“Even if we wanted to contact him,” he says, “We have no idea where he is or how to get in touch with him.”
Jackson scoffed, “The sheriff will obviously know where he went.”
“He wouldn’t tell us two years ago,” Boyd said slowly, “Why would he give up that information now?”
“Because people are dying?” Jackson drawled.
“That’s the excuse we used the first time. The Sheriff won’t betray Stiles.”
“I’m sorry.” Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose, “Are you telling me this has happened before? Oh god, I should have stayed in London. Why did I choose now – of all times – to come back?”
Derek growled, “If you don’t want to be here –“
“I don’t!” Jackson let out a breathless laugh, “Fuck, this town is a disaster and the only reason it didn’t sink to the bottom of the ocean years ago is Stiles – fucking – Stilinski. And you – you kicked him out? You kicked out the guy who knows more about the supernatural than a born werewolf? Oh my god – we’re all going to die.”
Derek didn’t answer beyond a snarl and a glare. Because truth be told, Jackson was right. Stiles had managed to be the most useful of his betas, and he wasn’t even a wolf. Ever since he’d left – no, since they’d sent him away – there had been a notable difference in the pack.
No more strategy sessions, no master plans that somehow kept them all mostly intact on the field. There was no one to forcibly drag their minds out of the doom and gloom with his cheerful jokes at the most inappropriate times. No one making them breakfast after the full moon or nagging them to clean out their injuries despite the fact that they’d be healed within the hour.
Frankly, everything was just depressing without him.
In the three years since that dreaded decision, every reason they’d had for it was whittled away. It all seemed so stupid now, so pointless to have lost their most valuable member over what was essentially nothing. Derek could see now that all those times he’d been underfoot, those times Stiles wouldn’t leave no matter how much it put him at risk, those times were probably the reason most of them were even alive.
“Enough.” Derek said, because talking about Stiles made something deep in his chest ache. “The sheriff’s not going to tell us anything and I doubt Stilinski would come back just because we asked.”
“Fine,” Jackson’s features twisted into a grimace, “Fine. But will somebody just tell me where Lydia is.”
The pack was silent.
“So help me god,” Jackson seethed, “You kicked out Lydia too? What the fuck is wrong with you people?”
“We didn’t kick her out.” Erika said.
“She’s – she’s dead?”
Erika frowned. “What? No. She left with Stiles.”
He sighed in relief, “Fucking lead with that next time.”
“Can we try to focus on the wendigo troupe currently ravaging the town?” Derek said and tried not to think of hazel eyes staring at him in betrayal.
6 years prior, Manhattan
“Lydia!” Stiles called as he practically barged into their apartment.
She almost fell out of her chair at the tone, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Stiles grinned, “Nathan asked me out.”
“What? Oh my god when’s the date?” She gasped, “Where’s the date?”
“This Sunday, we’re going to go see the new batman movie.”
“I can’t believe this is finally happening!”
“What do you mean?” Stiles frowned.
“God you two are such idiots.” Lydia rolled her eyes, “You’ve been dancing around each other for years.”
“We have not!”
“The first time we met him you sat in his lap and he couldn’t keep his hands off your waist.”
Stiles huffed, “Circumstantial.”
“Three days ago I watched you feed each other bites of the cake you were sharing.”
“I don’t think –“
“Or, what about that time we went dancing and you two spent the entire night grinding on each other.”
“I was drunk.”
“He wasn’t.”
“Hey!”
“What about that time you passed out after a pack day and he carried you to bed.”
“Ok, Lyds! I get it.”
“Do you?” She asked, “Because you casually refer to each other with pet names. You called him ‘babe’ yesterday. I need you to realise that you to have been dating for the past two years, you’re just the last to realise it.”
“Damn,” Stiles said after a moment, “I hate it when your right.”
“Liar.”
Stiles made a hasty retreat with what was left of his dignity intact, Lydia’s laughter followed him all the way to his room.
5 years prior, Manhattan.
Holy shit, thought Stiles, Holy shit.
Truth be told, Stiles had seen some weird shit in his short life, so for something to surprise him, well…
“Watch out kid!” Captain America – captain America! – called as he ran past Stiles and flung his shield at an alien.
Stiles took a deep breath.
“This,” He picked up the baseball bat he kept in the back of the bakery – for, you know? Just in case, “Is the best day of my life.”
And then he ran into the streets, swinging his bat with all his might and adding a little something extra with his spark. The alien crumpled under the force. Huh, maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as he thought.
From the corner of his eye Stiles could see as flustered Captain America try and usher civilians, all of which were wielding some type of make shift weapon and taking down aliens, while Iron man hovered in the background.
Was it possible to hover in an amused fashion? Because if so then that was exactly with Iron man was doing.
Stiles didn’t have time to ponder the question further as three aliens rushed him and he was forced to duck out of the way.
4 years prior, Beacon Hills
“Should we…”
Derek growled, “We are not calling Stilinski in.”
Present, Manhattan
“Hello,” Stiles chirped, “You must be Peter’s aunt.”
Peter’s aunt nodded slowly, looking at Stiles with one eyebrow raised.
“I am. How do you know my nephew?”
“Oh,” he waved away her suspicion, “The kids a regular here, I chat with all my regulars.”
“Alright…”
“Can I get you anything, Mrs Parker?” Stiles shot Peter a smile, “You want the regular?”
Peter nodded a moment before his aunt ordered a latte and a chicken pie.
He smiled, “I’ll bring it over in a minute.”
Stiles let them get settled at Peters usual place while he fetched the food. Lucky for Mrs. Parker, he’d just finished cooking the chicken pies. Stiles concentrated on readying the pies while he allowed his spark to put Peter’s lunch together – six portions.
The kid was looking a lot better lately, less shaky and more alert, so it seemed like six portions was the right serving size for the spider baby with superhuman metabolism.
Mrs. Parker looked up when Stiles walked round the counter with her pie, “That smells amazing!”
“Thank you,” He laughed, “fresh out of the oven.”
She looked less pleased when he came around with two giant plates of food balanced precariously on his arms. Peter blushed when he saw her wide eyes.
“Um.” She said.
Stiles powered through her shock with a cheerful grin, “And here is the lunch set.”
“That can’t be –“
“Peter.” Maria interrupted, walking through the door and opening her arms for a hug. The kid leapt out of his seat and into her arms before he really registered doing it. Stiles laughed, Maria had that effect on people.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Mrs. Parker asked.
Maria smiled at her, “Your nephew has some news he needs to share with you. I am here to answer the questions you might have.”
“Okay…” She said slowly, “Peter? What is it?”
“I – I –“
Stiles patted his shoulder, “It’s okay, kid. Just tell her.”
“I’m spider-man.”
“What?!”
3 years prior, Manhattan
“We should get a dog.” Stiles said, he was draped across Nathan on the couch, something mindless and boring droned on the TV, neither seemed inclined to move.
Nathan huffed a laugh, “Absolutely not.”
“Oh my god. Is this a wolf thing? Do you not want another canine in your territory?”
“What? No!” Nathan flushed.
“It totally is!”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“Is t – mph.”
Neither could continue arguing, seeing as their lips were too busy being sealed together.
-
“I’m moving out.”
“What?” Nathan and Stiles said at the same time. Lydia was stood there with her hands on her hips, suitcase in hand.
“Guys,” She shook her head fondly at them, “This apartment is your home, it’s filled with Stiles stuff and Nathans stuff, and Stiles and Nathan stuff.”
“Lyds,” Stiles started.
“Yes, yes. I know I’ll always have a place with you.” She took the words right out of his mouth, “ But it’s time for me to find my own home too. Plus, Stark Industries pays its employees very generously.”
“You don’t have to go right now.” Stiles said, eying her suitcase.
“I’ve already found an apartment, it’s a fifteen minute walk from here.”
“Oh.”
“Do you want help carrying your boxes?” Nathan asked.
Lydia gave them a sweet smile before showing them to her room, where a good three dozen boxes were stacked. “I’ve already rung the rest of the pack, they’ll be here shortly to help.”
Stiles grunted as Lydia hefted two boxes into his arms, Nathan picked up four without a sound. Stiles shot his boyfriend a playful glare and got a toothy grin in return.
3 years prior, Beacon Hills
“Hale, for the last time. I am not giving you my sons contact information.”
“Sheriff please,” Derek gritted out, “We need him.
“You didn’t need him six years ago.”
“Yes we did,” Derek sighed, hanging his head in shame, “I was just too stupid to realise it.”
The sheriff considered him for a long moment, “Hindsight is twenty-twenty, huh?” he said, but not unkindly.
“Yeah.”
“Go home, Hale. Get some rest, try and figure out whatever it is in the morning.”
Derek left the Police station with no more information than when he came in, instead he gained metric ton of regret.
2 years prior, Manhattan
“Marry me?”
Stiles was gaping with tears in his eyes. Nathan was down on one knee, the rest of the pack standing in a semi-circle surrounding him with The letters W-I-L-L U M-A-R-R-Y M-E ? printed on their T-shirts. They were in the middle of times square and a crowd had gathered.
Stiles nodded, not trusting his voice. The crowd cheered and Nathan leapt to his feet, sweeping stiles into a twirling hug before kissing him senseless.
They pulled apart only when their bodies need for oxygen demanded it. Nathan leaned forward so that their foreheads and noses were touching, both of them smiling so wide it hurt.
“Yes.” Stiles whispered, practically into Nathan’s mouth, “yes.”
-
The video of Nathan's proposal ended up going viral.
-
“Is everything in place?”
Lydia rolled her eyes, “Yes.”
“Is everyone in place?”
“Yes.”
“And the flowers? Lydia please tell me the flowers are –“
“Stiles!” Lydia said firmly, “Everything is perfect. Your dad is waiting to walk you down the aisle. You can do this.”
Stiles looked at himself in the mirror one last time. His hair, usually a birds nest or a buzzcut, was artfully tamed to look like he’d just run his hands through it. The suit Lydia had strong armed him into buying was, admittedly, beautiful, but it also cost about as much as Lydia’s tuition. The white fabric was comfortable and form fitting, clearly accentuating his best feature and the reason Nathan was marrying him: his ass.
Just kidding, though it is a pretty great ass.
Stiles himself had really filled out these past eight years thanks to Maria's rigorous training, every inch of him was covered in lean muscle and sun tanned skin – he’d also gained about a thousand new moles since moving to Manhattan.
“I can do this.”
The walk to the clearing was a treacherous one, but mostly for everyone else. Stiles was riding on Joe’s back to prevent getting his suit dirty, the older man grumbled all the way. Nathan and him had decided to host the wedding in that small clearing where they’d met, for symbolism purposes. Nathan thought it was sweet and Stiles was a tad indulgent when it comes to things Nathan likes.
Soon enough the clearing came into view.
Joe set Stiles down and patted his shoulder before drawing him into a hug.
“I’m proud of you, kid.”
Stiles grinned, “Thanks, Joe.”
There weren’t many guests: just the pack, Gina and Doreen (Lydia’s banshee mentor), Libby had flown out from LA to be there, plus a few of their friends from the other Manhattan packs.
“You ready for this Stiles?” His dad asked, smiling widely at his son.
This was only the fifth time John had visited him in Manhattan, the constant danger of Beacon Hills forcing him to stay on his toes. But he’d spent time with Nathan on four out of those five visits and he could tell that he was a good man – wolf? Doesn’t matter. The boy worshipped the ground his son walked on, and that was good enough for John Stilinski.
“I’m so ready.”
“You’re not nervous?”
“Nope,” Stiles laughed, “I thought I would be but… I’m just excited.”
“Then let’s get this show on the road, kid.”
Stiles slid his hand through his dad’s arms and they began a slow walk down the make shift aisle.
Nathan and Stiles gave each other matching grins when their eyes met, both checking each other out. Nathan had never seen the white suit before, likewise Stiles was taking in the navy blue suit for the first time as well.
Damn, his future husband was a catch.
-
Stiles took a deep breath before reaching for his prompt cards, “Nathan Sawyer. When we met, right here in this clearing, I remember feeling a rush of fondness for this dude I didn’t even know. I thought maybe I was crazy? Maybe it was just a little crush? I don’t know. But I’ve always trusted my gut, and every moment with you just cements the fact that I was right. You are amazing, and funny, and you listen to my rambling no matter how obscure the topic is. I was… broken, before we met. You are the gold lacquer they used to put me back together. I love you with everything I am, and I can’t wait to be your husband."
-
Nathan not-so-discretely wiped away a tear, “Though to follow that,” This elected a small laugh from the guests, “But here goes: Mieczyslaw Stilinski, the love of my life. We were never supposed to meet. By all right I should have died before you ever stepped foot in New York. Fate brought Maria Romero to the scene and gave me another chance, Fate brought Maria to you too, and she brought us together. You are… awe-inspiring, like a galaxy condensed into a living person. I love you with everything I am, and I will be honoured to call you my husband.”
-
“I pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss the groom!”
Nathan dipped Stiles low and gave him the kiss of a life time. The photograph of that moment would be going up on their shelf the second they got back from the honey moon.
1 year prior, Beacon Hills
“I found him.”
“What?” Derek turned to look at the other alpha. Scott was holding his laptop and nearly bouncing in place, “Who?”
“Stiles. Who else?”
Derek gaped for a moment, “Wha – how?”
“Allison was scrolling through YouTube when she found…” Scott clicked on a video, “this.”
Derek watched as the phone camera settled onto the centre of a crowd of people. Two men stood close together, the taller one tapped his partners shoulder and pointed behind him. When he turned to look several people spun around and unbuttoned their jackets, revealing T-shirts spelling out ‘will u marry me ?’. The taller man dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring.
‘Marry me?’ he said, and the other man spun around in shock.
The camera angle changed and Derek got his first good look at the shorter man. He was more built than Derek remembered, nothing remained of the scrawniness of his youth. But the hair was the same, as were the expressive hazel eyes. The man was absolutely, undeniably Stiles.
Derek felt something crack in his chest as he watched the man he loved (the man he’d hurt, and betrayed, and driven away) said yes to spending the rest of his life with someone else.
Derek had the sudden urge to reach through the computer and punch that other man right in his chiselled cheek bones for daring to touch his Stiles. Only Stiles wasn’t his anymore. The video was dated almost a year ago, no doubt Stiles and this man had already tied the knot.
“Derek?” Scott’s question snapped Derek out of the melancholy haze he’d drifted into, “What should we do?”
“Nothing.”
“What? We’ve spent years trying to get him home and now –“
“He’s in New York, Scott. We could search for weeks and turn up with nothing. How long do you think we can leave our territory undefended?”
“I –“
“As Alpha you have a responsibility to this land, Scott. We both do. We cannot shirk our duties for one man.”
Scott was quite for a long second, then:”… I guess.”
Derek frowned after Scott left. If information about Stiles’s location had come in any other form, he’d have been on the first flight over. But anger and jealousy dulled his love sickness, and his rationality was able to take control.
“Derek –“ Isaac gasped, running into the loft with an unconscious Boyd in his arms.
Thank god for self-control.
Present, Manhattan
“What?!” Stiles gaped, beside him Nathan laughed.
“um.” Peter said.
It took two entire minutes for Stiles to process what he’d just been asked.
“Mr. Stilinski,” Peter asked tentatively over the phone, “Are you still there.”
“Yes.” He said, “Peter, oh my god, you don’t even have to ask. Literally free food for life if you bring Tony Stark to my bakery.”
“You already give me free food.” The kid sassed back.
“It’s the principle of the matter, kid!”
“Alright, alright. We’re on our way.”
“Do you want privacy charms?”
“Is that a thing?”
“No, I just offered to put up some made up magic when Tony Stark is coming to my bakery.”
“You’re not that funny, Mr Stilinski. And he’s not that cool, calm down.”
Stiles made an offended gasp, an almost identical sound came from the other end.
“Peter,” he said quietly, “Do you have Tony stark next to you right now?”
“Um, no?”
“Try again.”
“Maybe…”
“Oh my god, can he hear me?”
“I can hear you.” A voice that was like five times deeper than Peters said.
Nathan laughed so hard at Stiles’s horrified expression that he fell of the counter.
“Please ignore my husband, Mr Stark” Stiles said, mortified, “I’m very excited to have you in my bakery.”
The man snorted, “I can tell.”
Peter seemingly took the phone back, “Okay we’re like a minute away Mr. Stilinski. Bye.”
“Bye.” Stiles echoed weakly.
After getting Nathan up off the floor by spritzing him with bottled water like a cat – something Nathan refused to find hilarious despite the irony – Stiles threw up a quick privacy ward. Nothing strong, just something that would make people’s eyes skip over the doors and windows to the shop. A person would have to know exactly where they’re going to get in.
He totally stole the idea from Harry Potter.
“Mr Stilinski!” Peter greeted him with a hug and Nathan with a wave.
“Mr Stilinski.” Mr Stark nodded at him and shook his hand. Tony Stark shook his hand. Holy shit.
“What can I get you, Mr Stark?’ Stiles asked after he seated them.
“I’ll just get whatever the kids having.”
Stiles snorted, then he flicked his hand and Peter’s lunch floated out from the kitchen, “Are you sure about that, Mr Stark?”
The man eyed the huge portions placed in front of his intern before quickly shaking his head. “I’ll just have whatever you recommend.”
“Yes sir.” Stiles saluted, “Any allergies.”
“No.”
“Cool. I’ll be right back. My husband will be out in like five seconds and he will most likely want to show you a card trick, please pretend to be amazed.”
Stiles hurried into the kitchen and dug around in the fridge for the steak and kidney pie he hadn’t had time to finish this morning. It was totally meant for pack dinner tomorrow but this was Tony Stark. He could make another pie tomorrow.
When Stiles walked out with the steaming pie in hand he was greeted with the sight of his husband asking a world renowned hero, “Is this your card?”
Jonah had made the mistake of giving Nathan a box of magic tricks for his birthday. The last three weeks of card tricks and disappearing coins was the result.
“Huh, wow. It is, good job man.” Mr. Stark patted Nathans shoulder, causing the man to beam. Stiles felt a soft smile creep onto his face at the sight.
“Here you go, Mr Stark.”
“This looks delicious, Mr. Stilinski.”
“Stiles, Please.”
“Then you must call me Tony.”
Stiles smiled, “This is literally the best day of my life. Not including our wedding.” He tacked on when he saw the pout Nathan was levelling him with.
Just then, Stiles’s phone began to ring. He shot Peter an apologetic smile and slipped into the kitchen.
Present, Beacon Hills
“Is this a Mr Mic – Mi – Mu – um, is this Mr. Stilinski?”
A sigh from the other end, “Yes that’s me, Mieczyslaw Stilinski. What do you need”
“This is Beacon Hills memorial hospital calling to inform you that John Stilinski had been admitted.”
“What!? What for?”
“He was stabbed in the abdomen sir, he’s currently in surgery but odds are that he’ll pull through.”
“How long will he be admitted?”
“Probably a few days maybe a week or two.”
“I’ll be down there by tomorrow.”
“Okay, sir, we’ll mark you down. See you soon.”
“Thank you.”