Chapter Text
Stiles startled from his sleep, gasping for air. He knew that had he been asleep any longer he would have been screaming bloody murder to wake himself up. Luckily, Derek had made sure that all the bedroom walls and floors were soundproof. Stiles knew he wasn’t thinking about his nightmares of the Nogitsune and rather the fact that most of his betas would be sharing rooms with their significant others but it still made Stiles relieved that he didn’t have to be the one to bring it up.
Derek had decided that it was time to rebuild the Hale house about a month after they had gotten rid of the Nogitsune and he and Scott had finally gotten their heads out of their asses and started to form a real pack. With Derek and Scott as co-Alphas, Peter (after many arguments about who would be best) as their Second, and Stiles as the Emissary. All the Betas at the time of the pack forming had moved in. They got the second story of the house, the couples sharing rooms.
Of course Erica and Boyd shared a room, and it was easy moving them in because their parents had still been pissed about them “running away” for 3 months. Issac, having already been adopted by Derek had Allison move in with him, shocking almost everyone that Chis had let her move out after she had almost died. Ethan had a room to himself although most nights he shared it with Danny who technically wasn’t part of the pack but might as well be. Aiden and Cora and shacked up. Malia got her own room. Jackson and Lydia had moved in extremely quickly, both wanting to leave their parents as soon as humanly (or werewolfly) as possible. That left the top floor to Derek, Scott, Peter and Stiles. They had the biggest rooms because they were highest in the pack and they said so. Well, Technically Stiles had the smallest room in the house but that was because he gave up a lot of space so that he could have an office for all his emissary things. He had lined the room and door with mountain ash so that when the door was closed the wolves couldn’t bother him. Stiles' office had a wall filled with all the books he had collected over the years, on the other side of the room he had his paints and drawings. Those along with his mother’s guitar were the real reason for the mountain ash but nobody had to know that.
Stiles looked over at the clock on his desk. 4:16 am. That’s 3 hours of sleep. He looks down at his hands and drums his thumb along his fingers, counting them. 10. Flip them over and count with the opposite index finger. 10. He’s awake.
Feeling excited that he got any sleep at all today, Stiles quickly but quietly went down the two flights of stairs to get to the training room. He flicked the light on and walked over to the schedule. He had insisted that Derek let the betas know ahead of time what they were doing. He definitely didn’t want to know so that he could set up for whatever they were doing that day.
Tuesday October 12th - Sparring
Sighing, Stiles walked into the kitchen to boil some water in the kettle for his coffee. He never makes a full pot this early, it wakes up the wolves with both the smell and the noise so he just makes himself a far too sweet cup of instant coffee and gets to putting out the mats for the sparring that will come after school.
Stiles knew that Derek had the whole day at the house and could definitely set up by himself but he was up now and if he was protecting the walls from the beating they would get from betas being thrown, mostly by Jackson, then he would. Once the room looked as it did every other sparing day Stiles grabbed his now empty cup and made his way back to the kitchen.
He looked at the time on the stove. 4:50 am. Plenty of time to cook lunch. He grabbed the pots and filled them with water and put them on the stove to boil. Then getting out the steamer Stiles got to cutting up carrots, broccoli and cauliflower. Once he had enough he dumped all the vegetables into the steamer and checked the water. Now that it was boiling he could add in the elbow pasta. He then walked over to the fridge to grab the chicken that they had leftover from last night. Soon the vegetables and pasta were done so he got out containers to put in lunch bags. Dividing the food into the 12 containers he then put the lunch bags into everyone’s backpacks, he walked back into the kitchen and washed the dishes. Looking over at the stove again. 5:37.
Stiles walked back up to his room to go take a shower. He wiped off the steam from the mirror and looked at himself for the first time that morning. He was pale, his face lacked its normal colour. Was it really normally coloured at this point though? Not really. His eye bags were almost as dark as they were when he was possessed but that was his new normal. He looked over to we’re his neck connected to his shoulder, the lichtenberg figure was still there, good. He quickly got dressed into a black t-shirt, blue jeans and his signature red hoodie. Looked over to the clock. 5:57. Time to start breakfast.
Stiles made his way downstairs again trying to act like he had just woken up in case any of the werewolves were up and could hear him. He grabbed two cooking trays and filled them with bacon, then put them in the oven to cook. He then started a good pot of coffee and got out two mugs. First preparing his own, once again too sweet creamer and sugar he then added a small amount of the unsweetened plain creamer into the other mug for Peter and got started on scrambled eggs.
Peter then came down, first as always. “Good morning Stiles, need any help?”
This was always how they started the day. “I think I’m good unless you want to get out the cereal, juice and milk.”
Peter walked over to the cabinet and pulled out all the open cereals, set them on the counter under where they kept the bowls and then got the milk and various juices out from the fridge.
Peter always wanted to help Stiles when he could tell that he had already been up for hours. Which was seeming to be everyday as of late. Soon the coffee was done and Peter was putting on the second put without being prompted. As Stiles pulled the bacon out of the oven he started to hear the betas making their way downstairs.
Stiles then started boiling a pot of water for Derek’s tea. Who would have thought that every morning when Derek woke up his first thought was a green tea with honey.
Soon the kitchen was crowded with hungry teenagers. Stiles finished off his third cup of coffee, grabbed a new mug and poured a black coffee making his way towards the stairs. Stiles had also grabbed Derek's tea and put it on the coffee table next to his recliner as he walked past.
Forgoing knocking on Malia’s door he walked in and put the coffee next to her bed then walked into her bathroom to turn on the shower. He came back and she was groaning about having to wake up at this “ungodly hour”. He just pulled her up so that she was sitting, let her have a sip of her coffee before getting her (his) shirt off and getting her into the shower.
Walking back downstairs, Stiles grabbed a piece of bacon and another cup of coffee. He then spoke up so that everyone could hear, “It’s Tuesday so that means Lacrosse after school today. Are we planning on all staying behind to watch practice or am I giving my keys to Allison?”
Lydia was the first person to respond, Being the most awake. “I’m pretty sure that seeing as we always stay for practice you can assume that we will be staying for practice.”
“I’m just checking, no need to bring out the ice queen this early.” He smiled back at her.
The Pack quickly went back to their own conversations, Stiles didn’t mind that he wasn’t included in any of them. He loved to just watch as the once constantly fighting to try to kill each other teens fight over the last slice of bacon.
That’s when he heard it, Peter leaned into Derek who was quietly reading in his chair. He then spoke in perfect Spanish, “You should really tell him. The longer you drag it out the worse it will be when he finds out.” Derek’s eyebrows furrowed in response.
Stiles never learnt Spanish, not well enough to understand that. How the hell did he understand that? Whatever, didn’t matter. He’d rather tell Peter off for annoying his alpha this early in the day. Without looking up from his drink he spoke, “Peter don’t you think it’s a little early to be annoying Derek? It’s not like either of you have jobs, why not secretly talk when we’re out?”
As Stiles went to take another sip of his coffee he noticed that everyone was staring at him, “Do I have something on my face?” He asked, not understanding why they all looked so shocked.
“Stiles,” Scott spoke up, “you don’t know Spanish.”
Stiles just blinked into his mug. That had happened a few times since the Nogitsune, not knowing a full language but a few things that there were no records of. It was great for his library, horrible for his mental state.
He noticed that the pack was trying their best not to think about where that knowledge could have come from. He knew that they were thinking exactly what he was, ‘when the hell is Stiles going to be just Stiles again?’ Stiles was finally starting to expect that the answer to that question was never.
Stiles looked up to Scott with a small smile and took a deep breath in while putting down his mug so he could count his fingers.
He drums his thumb along his fingers, counting them. 10. Flip them over and count with the opposite index finger. 10. Again.