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ONE.
The very first time Derek realises Stiles can Shift, is the day he and Scott train outside his abandoned house for what is the start of a tradition.
He'll never admit it, even under the penalty of certain death, but Derek was having all sorts of fun taunting Scott, riling him up, poking the bear so to speak, as he dodged swipes of claws and amateur sparring to his person.
Which it's safe to say - he'll again, never admit under the penalty of certain death - he may have, sort of a little bit, deserved the blow to the face he receives, his jaw breaking from the impact when mentioning Allison.
So, he really only has himself to blame when after losing his cool and tossing Scott into a nearby tree, Derek finds himself being thrown bodily to the ground, a heavy weight sitting on his chest and a tight grip wrapped around his throat.
He blinks up at Stiles, vision blurry and mind foggy from his head connecting hard with the forest floor, the pain an excruciating throb. That's all forgotten though when Derek gazes up into a pair of pale gold eyes, the colour of old musty maps, with a surrounding ring of violet around the pupil.
That in itself would have been impressive enough to rob him of his breathe, if it weren't for the sharp teeth pressing passed full lips and bared inches away from his nose.
"Stiles! Stiles, I'm fine!" Scott calls, and Derek can hear him scramble over towards them. "It's okay, dude! Really, no harm no foul!"
There's a rumble echoing in Stiles' chest, a low sound that despite his instincts ordering him to fight back, sends shivers dancing along his spine.
Well, that's a definite first.
"Don't do that again," Stiles warns. The words are muffled slightly from large teeth, but the threat still rings clear. "Or I'll rip your throat out with my teeth."
All he does is nod, completely dumbfounded.
With one final squeeze around his throat, Stiles' upper lip pulls up further into a silent snarl as he presses his forehead hard against Derek's. Seconds later, the weight on his chest fades away, Scott's fingers wrapping around his forearm to hoist him back to his feet. Derek idly rubs at his throat, eyes never leaving the still tense teenager before him.
Out of habit, he takes a deep breath in through his nose, annoyance itching at his skin when finding nothing out of the ordinary. Stiles just smelt like Stiles. Like sweat, a mixture of Old Spice from his father, Scott and something sweet.
Derek doesn't know how he didn't realise it sooner. He figures that when he and Stiles first met, his mind was elsewhere; filled with scenarios of finding Laura's dead body, - which ends up happening, before a set of handcuffs are thrown around his wrists, fuck you very much Stiles and Scott - guilt heavy in his heart and an anger he still couldn't quite shake.
He also figures that after awhile, Derek got used to the weird, yet totally subtle scent that was Stiles, something soft and so soothing to his sense of smell, that it didn't actually bother him into finding out what exactly made it that way.
But despite all of that, his instincts were now telling him to be on alert around Stiles, a person who he thought was once human, was now a predator like him.
Derek can't help but blurt out, "What are you?"
He's given a lopsided smirk, fangs grazing his bottom lip as his eyes return to the whiskey colour he's used to. "Someone you shouldn't fuck around with."
Eyebrows raised, Derek nods again, slightly annoyed and completely hot and bothered. "Noted."
TWO
Derek's running through the empty school corridors, Cora and Isaac hot on his heels and a Banshee's wail still echoing in his ears.
They had all gotten split up from another, trying to flee for their lives while the Darach - Jennifer reigned a holy shit storm upon them. He'd quite literally ran into Isaac and his sister, having enough time to glare in warning at the curly haired werewolf - who grimaced sheepishly - before picking up on a familiar heartbeat down the hallway.
He runs for it, only just feeling Cora and Isaac step in line with him as they all raced towards where he could now hear Stiles snarling.
"We'll get him back, bro." Scott says calmly as they skid into the room. "I promise we'll find him."
"What happened?" Derek asks, taking in the destruction of the classroom and the shattered window three teenagers are standing in front of.
Scott's got his arm wrapped around Lydia's shoulders, the red head rubbing gently at where there's a bruised band beginning to bloom around her throat. "Jennifer's taken --"
"My father!" Stiles growls, suddenly standing in front of him and eyes flaring. "Your psychotic girlfriend has my father! I swear to god Derek, if anything happens to him, I'm gonna kill her and then you!"
Derek stumbles back from his words and swallows shakily, clenches his hand around Cora's wrist when she steps in front of him and snarls. He can feel his fury, hell he can taste it, but the racing beat of his heart belies his threat. He's absolutely terrified. And it's the only thing that's keeping him from lashing back.
"She needs two more Guardians," Lydia rasps then, pulling everyone's attentions to her. "If she's taken Stiles' father, she's gonna go after someone else's parents. Probably someone who knows about the supernatural."
"Argent." Isaac says immediately, glancing around at them.
Everyone turns to face Scott then, face an identical wide eyed recognition.
"My mom." He whispers.
~
"Is she dead?" Stiles asks, voice shaky through the phone.
Scott turns to face Derek and he shrugs helplessly, not entirely sure he's up for another bout with Stiles now that he's just finished been thrown around by Jennifer.
"Yeah bro, she is." Scott informs, eyes still on him. "She won't be causing anymore trouble."
"Come around mine," he instructs then, "After Dad gets home from the Station we're gonna have to talk about some things. I want you there, the both of you."
Derek tenses, but nods despite Stiles not being able to see. "We'll be there."
~
"Stiles, I was kidnapped by some crazy lady who tried to kill me beside my best friend. If I want bacon, that's what I'm damn gonna get!" The Sheriff glares.
"This isn't your cheat day!" Stiles snaps back, clutching the bag of freshly cut bacon to his chest. "And you're not supposed to have bacon regardless if it is!"
Derek smiles at the Stilinski theatrics, a bitter taste taking over his mouth at the ease between father and son. He hadn't been as close to his father like he was with his mother, - that had been Laura - but it was still something he regretted every day.
"Sheriff, there were things you wanted to know?" Scott steps in, acting as a mediator, eyes dancing in amusement.
"Don't know why," Stiles says under his breathe, eyes narrowing when the bacon is ripped from his hands and quickly shoved into the oven. "You know everything there is to know."
Derek can't help but agree silently.
Though Stiles isn't human and has the ability to heal, it seems to be faster than his own or any of the wolves. Derek had nearly stumbled in shock when he'd walked into the Stilinski house and found Stiles sitting on the couch, clothes and face a bloody mess.
What he did do though, was demand what the fuck had happened, that prompted him to look like he'd been painted in blood and was given a flippant answer of, "just a concussion and an arm broken in three places. Car crashes, man. They can kill ya."
Like he was talking about something as normal as the weather. It was fucking frustrating.
The Sheriff gives his son a sharp look, throws a finger in his son's face before pointing at the table. It's safe to say, Stiles obeys silently, eyes now wary.
"You've been lying to me. You have for some time. We yet have to talk about your little stunt from the Lacrosse game, where you disappeared, and came back with your face busted up. Despite being able to get rid of all evidence whenever and however you want."
And, wait what?
"You can slow your healing process?" Derek asks, eyes darting over to Scott and then Stiles. "No one can do that. I haven't heard of anyone doing that."
"Well, you haven't heard of me." Stiles sniffs, nose tossed up in the air.
"Dude, where did you go from the game?" Scott butts in, sitting across from Stiles and dragging Derek with him. "You were there, then you weren't."
He looks offended, hands flailing as he glances at all three of them staring at him. Well. He and Scott were, the Sheriff was downright frowning. "What is this? Gang-Up-On-Stiles Day?"
"No," his father warns, folding his arms across his chest. "This is If-My-Son-Doesn't-Start-Talking-I'm-Eating-All-The-Bacon Day."
"Bit of a mouthful there, Daddio?"
"Stiles."
Derek watches on as he sighs, shoulders slumping as if the strings holding him up were cut. "It was Gerard Argent, alright? He grabbed me, Erica and Boyd - who are fine and at home, healing - to get to Scott and Derek. He thought I was human, so I had to play the part and not heal."
"Dude," Scott breathes, a low whine starting in the back of his throat. Derek unconsciously leans against him, gets a thankful smile in return. "You said it was from when you crashed Roscoe into Jackson."
"Excuse me?" The Sheriff asks, hands coming out to cut through the air. "You crashed the jeep? Into Jackson Whittemore?"
"It's gonna be a long night." Stiles sighs again, rubbing his face.
THREE.
After the deaths of Peter, Gerard, Kate and Jennifer, plus all his very own near death experiences, Derek finds himself doing something ordinarily mundane. He's complaining in the middle of the forest.
"I don't think it's fair that he's still keeping it a secret from the Pack."
Scott shrugs, shoulders at ease and a serene smile playing on his face. "He's shy."
"He's shy?" Derek whirls around with a splutter, nearly braining himself on a low hanging branch in the process. "Scott, he ran down Erica's street naked last night, after she dared him to. I saw more of Stiles than I'm comfortable with, because someone thought as a great Pack bonding experience, was to play Truth and Dare. I'm pretty sure that's far from being fucking bashful."
"Not one one of my best ideas, okay." He's given another shrug, this time accompanied with a pitying frown. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, even I wasn't supposed to know and I've known him all my life."
It doesn't because it still leaves his questions unanswered, but he's curious as to where this is going.
"How did you find out?" Derek questions then, turning to continue Isaac's bonding choice of Hide and Seek in the woods with Stiles the only person still in hiding.
It's he and Scott's turn to find everyone, Erica pouting when she was the second to be found, Boyd, Jackson and Isaac a close third.
Cora took forty five minutes to search for, using tricks she learned from living in South America to hide her scent, only to miscalculate her steps when running through the trees and snapping a twig. Scott was the one to tackle her to the forest floor, her laughter loud and ringing through the trees alerting him of her capture.
Allison gave her boyfriend and Derek a run for their money though, taking an hour and a half to find. By the time they found her downwind and wedged between two boulders, the sun was already high in the sky and baring down on them. He figured all those handy dandy Hunter techniques she's been taught, had been in full affect.
And Lydia. Well, Lydia had been the first to be caught because quote-unquote "I don't hide and I certainly don't seek. I'll be over by the car when you puppies are finished." She had smiled though when hearing Stiles' indignant yell from somewhere passed the treeline.
"I went over to his house one day, found the Sheriff and a fully Shifted Stiles in the backyard playing. It was pretty much the coolest thing to discover at the age of eleven." Scott explains, ducking low to avoid a mouthful of cobwebs.
"The Sheriff is human though," Derek says, pausing in front of a tree, head turned to the side. He can smell Stiles everywhere but can barely hear his heartbeat. "Is being a Shifter on his mother's side?"
Scott nods, his own head tilted and eyes scanning the trees for anything, most likely picking up on the lack of Stiles' pulse despite the thickness of his scent. "Yeah, I never got to see her Shifted, she was gone by that stage."
There's the rustling sounds of leaves from up above and then a heavy weight landing on his back, a pair of arms and legs wrapping around his throat and waist. Scott's cursing loud enough to scatter some birds in the trees into the sky, while Derek's sure his heart has dropped down to his knees.
He nearly claws at whatever it is, only to stop short and roll his eyes when Stiles hooks his chin over a shoulder, and laughs breathily into his ear. "Didn't take you as the gossiping type, Derek."
Eyebrows furrowed, he glances up at the tree Stiles had been hiding in, notices the claw marks embedded in the bark someway up, can smell the sap on his hands hanging limply around his neck. Just how the fuck did he get so high, that his heartbeat was faint, barely recognisable?
"Dude!" Scott says, hand clutching his at chest. "I almost had a heart attack!
He doesn't have to look at Stiles to know he rolls his eyes too. "I'm sure your werewolf superpowers would have saved you from that."
"Speaking of superpowers," Derek comments, reaching behind him to grab a fistful of material before yanking and sending him over his head. "Mind sharing yours?"
Frustratingly enough, Stiles didn't end up in a ball of limbs like he'd hoped, but rather twisted his body to land firmly on his hands and feet, eyebrows pointedly raised in Scott's direction.
"Every single time, man." He complains in a way that suggests that this is a long and suffering argument. "It's fucking annoying."
He sends him a wink before turning to face Derek. "Not gonna happen, big guy."
Fed up, he darts forward and barely manages to pin him to a tree trunk, he and Scott's growl of warning going unheard.
"It's selfish that you can't even tell us what you are, yet you sat in front of me six months ago and told me to trust the Pack." Derek sneers, hands clenching around Stiles' biceps. "What are we supposed to do if you get hit with your version of wolfsbane? We don't know what will counteract the poison, because you won't tell us anything."
Stiles delivers a knee to the stomach that sends him rolling back into a crouch, vision bleeding into crimson and fangs sliding passed his lips.
"I'm not fighting you, Derek." He snaps, his own eyes flashing, hand held up to stop Scott from jumping in between them. "But this isn't exactly easy for me, either."
"What isn't easy, huh?" Standing to his full height, he Shifts back and glares. "You're putting us all in danger with your refusal of sharing information!"
"You weren't the sharing type awhile back, Derek." Scott reminds, eyebrows raised. He looks calm, but the bodily growl erupting from his chest belies his posture.
"Neither were you," he retorts pointedly, revels slightly in the guilty and apologetic expression that flashes across his face.
"For a very long time, it was just me and my mother. She was the only other Shifter I've ever seen or known. Then some Hunters came into town, slowly killed her in a way doctors couldn't explain and it was only me after that." Stiles grits out after a minute of silence, fists clenched by his side. "She took precautions to keep me and my father safe, I promised her I'd do the same, all the while trying to gain control. I'm set in my ways and it's a progress, just as much as it is for you to trust us. I'm not naive into thinking it's a risk, but right now, it's one I'm willing to take. When I'm ready, you'll know."
Derek, on the one hand, feels like the air's been pushed outta his lungs at the common ground of Hunters killing a parent, but on the other, he feels like an ass. He wouldn't have liked anyone forcing him to speak about his family, so why should he be allowed to do that to someone else?
They stare at one another and he's helpless to stop himself from getting lost in the honey hued gaze, thinks about how difficult it would have been to learn control when the only person that was like you, wasn't there.
He isn't wrong and neither is Stiles, but it still rubs him raw not knowing what and who he fights beside. He ends up nodding in reluctant acceptance though; he knows when to back down when there's a stalemate and between the both of them, it could outlast anything. It also helps that there is a temporary answer to his question.
Stiles fights beside him and for now, it's good enough.
Scott gives him a look before shrugging, turning around and disappearing into the woods, towards where Lydia is complaining about mosquitoes and being hungry.
He sighs. "Come on, since Lydia was the first to be found, she's the one to pay for pizza."
He gets a small smile in return and Stiles silently walking by his side, gentle fingers reaching out to brush against his wrist in gratitude, a touch that's easily answered with a hand cupping the nape of his neck, thumb swiping lightly over a steady pulse.
~
Later that night, Derek finds himself back in the woods, right where he and Scott found Stiles.
He's standing before the tree, head turned to the side and brain working to find a reason to explain how Stiles managed to get up there. Naturally, he climbed, but he wanted to know what compelled him to go up.
Despite being a kid that should climb trees of unnaturally high heights, Derek always stayed firmly on the ground beneath him. It just seemed too weird for a wolf to be up in the leaves like some howler monkey. It's probably why Laura always had the jump - quite literally - on him whenever they played Tag with the rest of their cousins. She was always climbing trees, the jungle gym and on one memorable occasion, the roof.
Despite being able to heal bones, Laura had unwittingly enticed the human children into following, his baby cousin Zoe, being the casualty with a broken collarbone and arm. He'd never seen his mother so livid in his life, was glad her wrath wasn't aimed at him. Sufficed to say, that had been the last time Laura climbed trees. In front of the younger cousins, that is.
Crouching slightly, Derek goes against every argument he'd ever had with Laura, jumps up on the nearest branch before scurrying up the trunk. Landing on the branch where Stiles' scent is the strongest, he studies the bark, where the the flesh has been torn into.
Derek traces over the five claw marks curling around the trunk, lets his own grow out and makes a swipe right beside it, like he's trying to climb the tree. The slashes are identical in spacing between the fingers and in length, the only difference is the depth of the slashes.
His are shallow while Stiles' are deep, like his claws are hooked as they are sharp.
Just what the fuck made markings like that?
Humming thoughtfully to himself, he drops back down onto solid ground before walking away. He has no choice but to wait until Stiles wanted him to know.
It still wouldn't stop him from trying to find out before then though.
FOUR.
After that day in the woods, everything changes. It's like, once Derek knew that Stiles wasn't the human he originally thought he was, more of an animalistic side is shown.
Not a complete Shift, just eye flashes, little growls, and on one occasion where Isaac was being a little shit, another silent snarl, upper lip pulled up over sharp teeth.
Like right now, for instance.
There's a steady rising rumble behind the locked door, a grating noise that reminds Derek of a pissed off cat.
"Come on, Stiles." Lydia sighs, rubbing her temples with two manicured fingers. "Don't make me come in there and drag you out."
"Yeah, come out of the closet." Isaac snickers, from behind them.
There's a low hiss from inside said closet as Derek, Lydia and Scott turn to glare at him, Allison reaching over to flick at his ear hard. The curly haired werewolf hunches his shoulders up to his ears and whines in apology. Jackson just shakes his head and continues to play Candy Crush on his phone, unperturbed.
"And you wonder why Derek tells only you clean the living room after Pack nights." Erica snorts, turning a page in the magazine she's reading, Boyd and Cora looking amused on the couch by her side. "You go and say stupid shit like that to everyone and get on their nerves."
Isaac glares but agrees with her grudgingly, if the tense silence that follows is anything to go by.
"I'm not doing it." Stiles' voice comes through, muffled and barely recognisable. "I can't talk to her."
"You have no choice," Scott says, gently. "We've all tried to talk to Lucy, but she's only interested in talking to you when you're there."
"But what's so interesting about me?" There's a soft mewl there and he has to smile at the sound.
He's heard that noise before; whenever they piled on one another to watch movies, Erica and sometimes Allison accidentally elbowing Stiles in the stomach when they tried to find a comfortable position. Or whenever Isaac and Boyd watched Orange Is The New Black without him and tried to spoil the episode.
They were more established as a Pack now, much more able to be in each other's presence without trying to kill or maim one another. On more occasions than not, Derek found himself paired up with Stiles, whenever they were on stakeouts or just ordinary outings that the girls forced everyone into. He realised after awhile, trying to find out what type of Shifter Stiles was, was irrelevant and that he didn't mind so much not knowing. He was content with just having Stiles by his side, preferred it actually.
"Lots of things, Stiles. She almost barrelled Lydia over, when she overheard you talking about going to that Comic Con in three weeks." Derek spoke, ushering the red head and Scott away. He crouches by the door, knows that Stiles is sitting with his back against the wall and face buried in his knees. "Just talk to her like how you talk to the girls."
"But Ally-Cat's my queen, I mooned over Lydia and refused to look anywhere but at Erica's eyes!"
He glances over at said females and grins softly at the fond look on each of their faces.
"What about me?" His sister asks, head tilting to the side in curiosity. "What did you do with me?"
"Besides saving your life, I didn't do anything but have a look on my face, one that you wanted to punch!"
Derek rolls his eyes at the pleased smile on Cora's face, almost like she's happy that he's remembered and yeah. That's why Lucy likes him more than anyone else in the Pack. Stiles just has those quirks that people thought were awkward as they were adorable. And he's also an asshole, but the jury's still out on that verdict.
"Just be yourself, Stiles. That's what caught her attention in the first place."
There's silence and Derek can only hold his breathe as the door clicks open. "Okay, I'll do it."
~
Turns out, helping a troublesome ghost crossover is as easy as it sounds. Especially when said ghost is a die hard - excuse the pun - Marvel fan.
~
"You did good tonight." Derek tells him, wincing slightly when Allison tucks her cold feet behind his knees in her sleep. Or was it Lydia? He can never tell anymore whenever the Pack pile on him before passing out. "With talking to Lucy and getting her to crossover."
Stiles' breathe fans against his collarbone hotly. He feels him shift around, an ankle sliding between his and half of his upper body resting on top of his chest. Isaac hums softly when Stiles digs his fingers into his curls, the werewolf's nose nuzzling against Derek's ribs sleepily. "Really? I think I made a fool of myself."
"As opposed to any other time," He teases, grinning up at the ceiling when gentle fingers dig into his neck.
Cupping the back of his skull, he scrapes his nails through the short hair there, grin turning into a soft smile when Stiles murmurs happily and shifts closer. His eyebrows furrow though when a low rumble begins to vibrate against his side, realises it's Stiles purring and quite shamelessly too. He doesn't pause though, continues to run his nails up over the crown of Stiles' head, behind his ears before repeating the sweeps.
"If you make any ear scratchin' jokes," Stiles slurs, body going limp. "I'm gon' bite you."
Derek grins again. "Wouldn't dream of it."
FIVE.
The Pack were in some new club that just opened in two towns over, - Derek almost wished it was Jungle, only for the sheer fact that they weren't in Beacon Hills and therefore his territory anymore, - celebrating Scott's birthday and that they managed to stop a clan of vampires from turning the entire town.
Yeah, vampires. They've officially stepped into Hollywood "horror" movies. At least these ones had been the real deal; the ones that crept into your room at night and sucked your blood and not the sparkly, deer loving kind. He kinda hates Cora and Allison for forcing him to watch that movie. He could have lived his entire life in ignorant bliss.
Derek's just declining a drunken offer to dance by some guy when he hears a familiar snarl over the pulsing music. He doesn't bother in excusing himself, just walks off and heads straight for the bar where the growl came from. He tenses when seeing Stiles and Lydia standing shoulder to shoulder in the middle of a semi circle, with a female and male having some silent stand off.
He pushed through the crowd and closer to them, not even bothering with glancing around for the rest of the Pack. He could feel them circling around, positioning themselves, almost like they had a magnetic pull to one another.
Erica, Isaac and Scott were behind the couple, bodies tense and ready to spring if need be. Boyd and Allison to the left side of them, their backs leaning against the counter of the bar. Jackson and Cora stood directly to the right, eyes narrowed and shoulders tense. They looked like they were just watching, waiting for something to happen, but he knew they were just as poised to strike.
To complete the circle, Derek stepped up behind Lydia, having seen the peek of silver in the red head's hand and Stiles' upper lip curl up in warning. He allowed his eyes to flare crimson, grinning sharply with fangs on display when the woman he's facing, takes a step back in surprise.
Another man steps forward towards them and the entire Pack tenses. "I think we should take this outside."
Derek nodded when Stiles glanced at him, taking in the way his eyes burned brightly in the night club and knew he meant business.
It seemed that they weren't the only ones ready for a fight. After the Pack moved to the exit, eight other people followed from the crowd, most likely mimicking Derek's action of surrounding them. Problem was, he didn't see anyone move in any way that would send his hackles to stand up on edge. It would have been difficult to fight them off if the couple did attack, what with the way the crowd would have reacted and the sudden knowledge that they're outnumbered. He's thankful for small miracles.
He pauses when a gentle hand cups his elbow and turns back to find Stiles, "Stand by my side and let me do the talking, okay?"
"What the fuck is going on?"
The Alpha asks, gesturing to their backs. He doesn't deny his request, gives his consent by stepping into his space, heads bent closely together. "Who are they and what have we done to piss them off?"
"This is my mother's old town and they don't like the fact that I'm here, or that I exist. Hence the hostility."
Said hostility is shown when Stiles is shoved roughly by a stocky man with black shaggy hair, the only thing stopping Derek from ripping his throat out being blunt nails digging into his bicep.
"Don't. Not in here."
He clenches his jaws tightly and forcibly backs down. Stiles doesn't thank him verbally, but his eyes holds his gratitude.
"What do you want me to do?" He questions, with a glare in the man's direction. He follows after the amber eyed man when he moves towards the exit.
"Because you're the Alpha, you'd usually do the talking if it were another wolf Pack," Stiles explains, barrelling on when he nods in understanding. "But since you don't know their protocols and I do, I'll do the talking. I just need you to show me support, okay?"
He squeezes his forearm in thanks when he answers with another nod.
Everyone ends up standing face to face in the alleyway beside Cat's Eye, Stiles moving in front of the Pack with Derek by his side.
"You have balls stepping back into our territory." The only female spits out, glaring. She walks closer and Scott growls in warning, body swooping down low, weight perched evenly on his feet and clawed hands by his side.
Before Derek can even think to ask what exactly is this chick smoking, Stiles let's out a snort. "I didn't know the Clan had fallen so low as to give you leadership, Aubrey."
Said woman snarls at him, inky curls sashaying around her face, but all he does is throw her a wink in reply.
"Stand aside," a voice orders and Derek watches her body shiver, before reluctantly complying when a man steps out from the small crowd at her back.
"You're walking on thin ice, Middleton. Do you have permission to be in our territory?" The man asks, folding his arms across a broad chest.
Just like the majority of the male Shifters before him; he's stocky, all thickly corded muscles on display. His blonde hair is tied loosely at the base of his skull and cascading down between the wings of his shoulders, eyes a dark shade of blue against his tanned skin.
"Middleton?" Isaac whispers from behind them.
He can hear Lydia answer under her breathe, "Middleton was Claudia Stilinski's maiden name."
Oh. Right. Stiles had said this was his mother's town.
"I've always been welcomed by Ryan. I have no need to ask permission into my own territory and I never have." Stiles answers, ignoring the Pack's hushed tones from behind. "And it's Stilinski, not Middleton."
"That right there, is why you need permission here," Aubrey snaps, eyes now flaring up into a molten gold. There's a ripple that dances across her dark skin, shows that she's seconds away from Shifting in the alleyway. "Your mother betrayed us for some pathetic human! Like she was better than us because we wouldn't accept her toy in the Clan."
The Pack snarls, Derek included, but no one is louder than Stiles.
"My mother left for love, which is permitted for anyone in the Clan, regardless of status." He grits out, "And Aubrey you were a kid yourself when she did resign her position as Ryan's Second, you don't know nothing of betrayal, so back down and shut the fuck up."
"I know of it My mother and I lost my father because of her." She growls, another shiver running over her body, this time in anger. "While she was out fucking your father, Hunters attacked our Clan and my father fell because she wasn't there to help."
Derek wraps his fingers around Stiles' wrist when he takes a quick step forward, feels his pulse race as clearly as he can hear it.
"Her being there wouldn't have made a difference. She would have likely met the same fate." Stiles argues, body tense. There's a low rumble echoing in his chest as he speaks, one that resonates in all of of theirs too. "And you think you were the only one to lose someone? My mother lost her brother and sister. Ryan's own children were taken too! Don't play as if you were the only one affected."
Derek has so many questions right now. He just wants to blurt them out and demand answers, but refrains. Knows that clearly now is not the right time to show that they're not a united front despite the fact that they are.
The blonde haired man lifts a hand in Aubrey's direction, silencing whatever scathing remark was on her tongue. He turns to face Stiles. "Then you have no problems with me calling him?"
Derek glances at over at him, watches him raise a questioning eyebrow as he pulls his phone out from his pocket.
"I thought being Ryan's Second was to know of these things," he comments, ignoring the large growl that follows his words. He tosses his it over. "Call off mine if you want. I'm sure that'll make tonight more interesting."
Derek's not proud at how he feels like he's just been swept off his feet, but Jesus Christ, he feels like he's just been swept off his feet.
The fact that it was Stiles doing it was a little disconcerting but not unwelcome. He had had the pleasure of watching Stiles come into his own, both mentally and physically; shoulders broadened and stomach smoothing into lean muscle, face ridding the baby fat and leaving lightly stubbled cheeks and chin.
Derek didn't know if his body reflected his were-counterparts, but despite his trim frame, he knew power shifted under mole dotted skin, a power he has yet to see.
He was man enough to say he couldn't wait.
The phone's ringing by the time Derek tunes back in and he hears a warm voice answer, "Stiles, it's a little late, but it's so good to hear from you!"
"It's me." The man says after a moments hesitation, mouth pulling down into a hard frown.
"Gabe? Gabe, how'd you get this phone?" Ryan asks, the tone of his voice going steely. "I swear to God, if any harm has come to whoever had this --"
Before he can even think to stop him, Stiles walks over, plucks the phone from Gabe's somewhat slack grip and pulls it up to his ear. "I'm fine, Ryan. They just wanted proof."
"Are you in town?"
He nods, despite the other man not being able to see the action. Ignoring the crowd around him, Stiles walks back towards Derek, shoulders at ease and gait even. It's a blatant 'fuck you' to the other weres, one that says they aren't even worthy to watch his back for. The message is received loud and clear, going by the growls that follow in his wake.
"Yeah, visiting Cat's Eye. Wanted to celebrate my best friend's birthday. It isn't going so well." He informs the person on the other end of the call.
"Give me ten minutes, I'm on my way." Ryan tells him, the sounds of quick movements rustling against the mouthpiece. Like he's running and the wind is hitting the mouthpiece. "No one is to touch you or your Pack. That's an order."
Aubrey's glare intensifies at that last part.
Stiles hangs up, air around him tasting smug. "Is that proof enough for you?"
Tongue in cheek, Gabe nods, lets his arms fall out before bowing his head once. "Apologies. We can wait here for Ryan to arrive."
They don't even make it to five minutes before all hell breaks loose, and it's all because of that fucking woman named Aubrey.
The Pack had ignored it at first, her comments about Stiles and the Sheriff. Irreverent snipes about the Stilinski gene and that she was glad he wasn't in the Clan, "I mean look at him, looks like he can't even fight off a squirrel. We need real men, not boys acting and doing horrible impressions."
Stiles had kept quiet, accepting his and Lydia's hands on his with a tight smile, in the hopes to give comfort and ground him from snapping the woman's neck. The Pack weren't as restrained. They all paced back and forth; Cora and Isaac going as far as snarling silently, upper lip raised and baring fangs while Allison glared and played with a switchblade. Scott, Erica and Jackson were all crouched low, weight sitting evenly on the balls of their feet and clawed fingers. Boyd, though eyes flashing, kept a firm hand on both his girlfriend and Scott.
The situation was restrained, but barely.
It was when she mentioned Claudia, that Stiles snapped.
"His mother probably killed herself to get away from them. I know I would have if I were her."
It had happened so quickly, one second he was beside Derek and the next, he wasn't.
By the time it registered to what was said, Stiles and Aubrey were a rolling ball of snarls and fangs, her people surrounding them in a tight circle and blocking the Pack from getting to him.
It turned into a frenzy then, loud growls and fighting sounding around them. Derek was fighting Gabe, dodging swiping claws and delivering connecting blows when, what he could only describe as a roar, echoed in the alleyway.
Immediately, everyone pulls apart. The Clan because they're too busy whimpering at the backs of their throats with necks bared, while the rest of them watched on, chests heaving.
"What the fuck is going on?" A slightly grey haired man asks, eyes flashing.
It's quiet besides everyone's heavy breathing, before Gabe steps forward, arm laying in the crook of his elbow because Derek had broken his wrist minutes beforehand. "There was just a mis--"
"I attacked Aubrey," Stiles interrupts, not bothering from sugar coating the truth. He's standing to his full height, shoulders back and head held high. He's also holding said woman by the throat, blood smeared over his chin and hands. His grip tightens, despite her efforts of trying to struggle away, choked breathes wheezing from her own bloody mouth. "She said some things she shouldn't have. I chose to show her her mistakes. "
Erica and Cora crouch defensively before Stiles when someone moves towards him, letting out a low growl that's echoed by Ryan.
"Stand down," the older man snaps with a glare, one that's also transferred to Gabe. "They were not to be touched."
The blonde haired man lets out a frustrated sound, throwing out his hand to point at Stiles. "He's got a member of your Clan by the throat and you're telling me he's under your protection?! Claudia is dead and whatever ties you have, with her!"
"You are not the one to decide that," Ryan growls, waving his hand to the left, his people following the silent command to stand aside. "If you don't like how I'm handling things --"
"It has nothing to do with how you handle things, Rye! It's the fact that you clearly have your priorities fucked! Claudia never asked you to protect him! He wasn't even in the picture when she left!"
Derek glances at Stiles, mouth set into a hard frown and eyebrows furrowed. Amber eyes flick to his and the void look in his gaze sends an unwelcome shiver down his spine. He's only ever seen that look when it came to someone hurting the Pack or his father. He proves Derek right by tightening his grip around Aubrey's throat.
"Regardless of Claudia not being here with the living and her leaving the Clan amicably before her son was born," Ryan says quietly, eyes flaring up into a golden hue, a violet ring encasing it. "Stiles is apart of this Clan and always will be."
"Well then he's cut that tie when he chose to run with mutts!" Someone from Derek's left spat out. "It goes against everything we are, it's an abomination in the making!"
Jackson and Isaac snarl in their direction.
"I'm the one that decides that," Ryan repeated, glaring behind him. "And if anyone wants to recall, my own wife isn't like us or a wolf. Are you calling her and our children abominations?"
Silence takes hold in the small alleyway and Derek can feel the Clan back down in slow, measured steps.
The older man nods to himself when the tension has completely evaporated from his people, turns to face where Stiles still has Aubrey's throat in his hand. The dark skinned woman's body has gone limp in his grasp, her arms and legs not moving. If Derek couldn't hear her sluggish heartbeat, he'd be afraid of the consequences of killing another member of someone else's group.
"Let her go," he tells him gently, taking a step forward.
Erica ad Cora dart their gaze towards him in question and Derek nods with a quick tilt of his chin, watches as both his sister and the blonde she-wolf step aside for the other Alpha.
"I should snap her neck," Stiles grits outs, form shaking. Derek wants to rush over and collect him up into his arms. "Talking as if she knew my mother."
"I know, son. And she'll be punished accordingly," he murmurs, stopping in front of him. "You kill her now and a war will break out between us. I don't want to see that happen and I'm sure you don't either."
Well, that answers his silent question of retribution.
Derek watches on as Ryan pries Stiles' fingers from the woman's jugular, watches as she falls to the asphalt underneath their feet and take huge, wheezing gulps of air in.
"Everyone back to the compound!" Ryan orders, nodding when someone silently gestures to Aubrey still crumpled on the floor before picking her up. He glances over at Derek then, sapphire coloured eyes questioning. "Were you going back to Beacon Hills tonight, or staying and leaving in the morning?"
"The latter." He says, gaze connected with Ryan's before sliding over to Stiles. He hasn't moved from where he dropped Aubrey, his hands clenched and his back tense. "If you'd prefer, we can leave right now. I don't want my Pack stepping on any more toes than they have."
"Nonsense," the blue eyed man dismisses. He smiles at him then at the Pack, somehow looking younger than he should. "Stay for the night. It's a two day drive from here to your home. I'm sure your Pack must be tired. You can stay at the motel down the road. One of my members own it, so just mention my name. You can stay there free of charge."
The last part is said to Stiles who smiles softly in return, "Thank you."
~
"You okay?" Derek questions, mouth close to Stiles' ear.
He nods, leans further into his side. "Yeah, I just -- didn't expect that to happen."
He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "What? The fight?"
"Oh no, that was always going to happen with Aubrey there." Stiles waves a dismissive hand in the air. He's a lot less tense now that they've left the club, all but slumped in the car seat and over Derek's lap. "Just the last bit, I don't usually get like that. Only when someone threatens my family. I nearly killed her."
Derek figured that he wasn't the only one to notice Stiles' shorter than usual patience. He just should have known it would have been him to notice.
"Well, she deserved it." Lydia says mulishly from the driver's seat. She's got a scratch across the apple of her cheek and nothing else, but it's still enough to make Derek want to bite something. "She's lucky I didn't get my hands on her. She would have begged for you to snap her neck if I did."
Everyone in the car snorts but doesn't deny it. Now that Stiles had finally pulled Lydia off the pedestal he had placed her on, he and Lydia were close, maybe even on the level of Stiles and Scott. If you threatened the other, you didn't just have to face the Pack's fury, but theirs as well. And even Derek could admit that theirs was a lot more powerful than the Pack's twice over.
"Besides, she did threaten your family." Derek tells him. "I'd be just the same if someone said that stuff about my mother."
Stiles doesn't say anything for awhile, just plays with his hands. They had found a tap nearby the night before, to scrub at Stiles' mouth to rid the dried blood there until it was somewhat acceptable to step out onto the main road. He had kept his hands in his pockets and his head low, just in case of any unwanted attention.
He had a shower the second they'd arrived in the motel, while Derek and Scott moved the two large mattresses to the floor of the room so everyone could pile on it for the night. It seemed Stiles had needed everyone close, and when he woke up the next morning, mock growling at Erica like he usually did, it looked like it had worked.
When he had gotten into the car though, he had changed.
"But they're gone." He whispers minutes later and Derek's heart clenches harshly in his chest.
"Doesn't make it right." The Alpha replies, reaching down and linking their fingers together. "Doesn't make it hurt less to have someone badmouth them."
He isn't expecting it, doesn't push away when Stiles gives up pretence and climbs into his lap, face hidden in the curve of his neck and harsh breathes puffing out against the shell of his ear.
Cora, who had been sitting on the other side of Stiles' jeep, slides over and tucks his feet under her thighs, loops Derek's arm around her and leans her side against Stiles' shins. She reaches out and takes his free hand closest to her and links their fingers together.
"Tell me the address of their compound and I'll go there and rip her throat out. With my teeth."
Her request and confused frown - hers, Scott's and Lydia's - makes both Derek and Stiles laugh to the point of tears.
~
"So, is Ryan like you?" Derek asks three weeks after Scott's birthday.
Stiles startles, almost drops the dish he'd been washing. "Uh, yeah. I didn't know about him until a few years after Mom's -- after. He visited and found out I'd taken after her. Offered to take me and Dad back. We clearly declined."
Derek takes everything in silently, not at all sure he's willing to break the atmosphere that's wrapped around them. It's clear to him that Stiles is comfortable, - washing dishes no less in his home - the last time he willingly chose to talk about his mother being the time he, Scott and Stiles were in the Preserve.
"What did he do then?" Derek murmurs, wiping the suds off a bowl they used for dinner.
Stiles shrugged, placing the plate he'd finished cleaning on the rack. "There wasn't much else he could teach me with control; I'd already learnt that on my own. Showed me some fighting techniques, both offensive and defensive. Other than that, nothing really."
He highly doubted that. Stiles was the stronger fighter out of everyone in the Pack, and that was including himself and he was an Alpha. Whatever Ryan taught Stiles and whatever he'd picked up on the way, it was something that relied heavily on a primal instinct. It was beautiful as it was vicious.
"Are the rest of Ryan's Clan like you and your mother?"
"Yes and no." He says, flicking suds at Derek and grinning when he's given a withering look. "Same type just different family of species."
That didn't make sense at all, but he accepted the answer nonetheless. Besides, pay back was needed for his wet Henley.
"Don't you dare," Stiles warns, backing away from the sink when he snatched the wet dishrag and held it with a maniacal grin. "Derek, I'm telling you right now, if that dirty thing comes anywhere near -- no! No! Stop it, you ass -- oh my God!"
Grabbing Stiles around the waist, Derek shoves the rag down the back of Stiles' jeans and laughs hard enough, that the Pack comes running into the kitchen to watch Stiles rip the denim down his thighs, fishing for it.
"I don't even want to know," Allison sighs, shaking her head and returning back to the lounge room.
+ ONE.
Derek had gotten the text from Stiles the night before. An ominous come over tomorrow. gotta show you something.
He'd frowned, texted back asking what exactly it was he was going to be shown, but had received only radio silence after that. He panicked a little, but pushed it down and outta mind. If Stiles were in trouble, he would have said so. It still left a nasty taste in his mouth though. Made his skin itch with the need to do something. So he did. He went running.
Thing was, twenty minutes in, he could feel someone following him. A few paces back, to the left and downwind. He wouldn't have noticed them if he didn't take a sharp right ten minutes ago, and caught the flash of eyes in his peripheral.
Whoever it was didn't attack, didn't try and hide when Derek had finally realised he was being followed. Just kept the pace they started with, almost as if they were chasing him just for the sake of chasing.
The thought sent unease down his spine. The only thing or person that did that was a predator looking for a plaything, and it looked like Derek qualified.
Deciding to change tactics, Derek spins around on the balls of his feet before heading straight for whoever it is. He hears footsteps scramble backwards before he sees what actually followed him.
"A -- a mountain lion?" He says out loud, just managing to catch hind legs and a tail before it disappears.
Derek breathes in deeply, frowning at the subtle scent that's been left behind. It smells wild, like rich earth and grass, but there's an underlining scent too, sweet like oranges.
He didn't know what mountain lion smelled like oranges and why.
Bewildered, Derek turned around and headed back home, only glancing behind him a few times to catch curious eyes staring back.
~
Derek pulls up to the Stilinski house and sees Stiles' jeep, the Sheriff's cruiser and Lydia's Mazda sitting in the driveway.
He knows the Pack was supposed to be here at four and glancing at the clock on his dash, told him he had ten minutes before everyone would arrive.
Shrugging, he stepped out of the Camaro and jogged up the porch stairs. He knocked twice on the door, his usual announcement before walking into the house. What he finds in the lounge room has him stopping in his tracks, eyes wide.
"Really?" He questions, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline when he recognises the same pale gold eyes, with a ring of violet surrounding the pupil. "This is what you Shift into?"
The mountain lion, Jesus fucking Christ, Stiles, purrs softly in Lydia's embrace, head nuzzling under her chin before slinking over. The red head actually looks disappointed in having him leave her arms, but settles on the wooden floor more comfortably.
"Were you the one following me last night?" He demands then, thinking about the night before and stopping Stiles directly in front of him.
His head tilts to the side, eyes, the same ones from last night, wide and adorable. An ear flickers lightly and Derek tries not to let the smile that tugs at his lips break free. Lydia has no problem cooing from the floor, all but clutching her chest as she grins.
He closes the gap between them, hand cautiously landing on Stiles' head lightly. A low noise begins to rumble in his chest at Derek's touch.
"So, the mountain lion that Chris shot at the school," he says, running the same hand along Stiles' spine as he begins to wind around his legs like an overgrown house cat. "Was he a cousin of yours?"
Gentle teeth bite at his jean clad thigh in reprimand and he can't help but finally smile. Crouching down to eye level, Derek receives a lick to the corner of his mouth, knows that this is his subtle way of submitting. He leans in and nips at the side of his muzzle in return, silently accepting. The purr still echoing in his chest, deepens.
Stiles' fur is a beautiful tawny colour with splashes of white over his muzzle and underbelly. Derek can feel thickly corded muscles under his fingers, can feel the power that lies there, even when all Stiles is doing is giving him a thorough tongue bath.
"A cat running with wolves." Derek murmurs, completely enthralled. A thought pops into his head then and he can't not ask it. "I thought felines hated water, yet I seem to remember you holding me in eight feet of it."
He gets what he can only call an eye roll in return. Derek tugs at his ear in retaliation.
"I came over early to return some of the books he leant me," Lydia speaks over the loud scrape of a rough tongue licking at the stubble lining his throat. "I was literally pounced on when I stepped in through the door."
Derek laughs as Stiles buries further into his space, has to steady himself or end up on his ass when he nuzzles a cheek against his. Cupping Stiles' nape, he brings his forehead to rest against his, noses touching and silently breathing in the same air.
"Thank you," he whispers, closing his eyes and thumbs swiping gently under Stiles'. "Thank you for trusting us, trusting me, with this secret."
He gets a breathy chuff in reply, wrinkles his nose when there's a wet lick over the tip of it up towards his hairline.
"Oh my God," Erica says from behind him, startling him into shifting away to glance at her. "Stiles?"
He has only precious seconds to move out of the way before she pounces, an irritated snarl sounding from under blonde curls and limbs.
"Beautiful, isn't he?" The Sheriff asks, standing beside him as the rest of the Pack moves forward to get a look him, Scott watching from the couch with an amused look on his face, as Lydia walked over and curled up comfortably in his side.
"Yeah. Just like his mother, I can imagine." He answers, grins as Stiles struggles to get away before accepting defeat, slumping in the curve of Erica's arms, tail flicking back and forth with annoyance.
The Sheriff only smiles, bumps his shoulder with his own.
"I'm gonna call you Snuggle-puss," the blonde she-wolf coos, burying her face in his throat. "And I'm going to love you forever and ever."
The look that he throws at his father and Derek has the both of them laughing loudly, the expression so reminiscent of his human face that it's borderline hysterical.
"Let him go, Erica." Cora chuckles, opening her own arms for Stiles to step into. She winds them around his neck when he does, an answering rumble echoing in her chest when he purrs. "Looks like when I say 'don't be a pussy', you've got no choice but to be one."
The Sheriff chokes on his breathe, Derek gives her an unimpressed look and all Stiles does is lap at her face happily, his sister letting out a delighted laugh when he tackles her to the ground, body caging her in and keeping her there to accept her fate.
Not that she seems to mind.
~
"So you said that Ryan's Clan were like you." Derek says, watches as Jackson tugs playfully at Stiles' tail, much to his dismay. "Just different family of species. Does that mean all types of big cats? Tigers, Jaguars? Panthers?"
Getting fed up, Stiles bites at Jackson's fingers before darting off to flop in Allison's lap, head resting comfortably on Lydia's thigh smugly when she smushes her face in his neck, Jackson rolling his eyes and sitting back down from where he jumped up to follow him.
Stiles nods in his direction, uses his nose to tap against the books Lydia had brought back before glancing back at him. He was giving Derek a chance to read all about it and he was definitely going to be taking the offer.
He never heard of feline Shifters before, was pretty sure not even his mother knew. But then again, it had been a myth that werelizards existed, so whose to say that there weren't creatures like Stiles?
"You're lucky I knew all about other types of weres or else I would have screamed bloody murder." Lydia says dryly, lifting her head up and looking at the Pack settled all around the room. "I nearly cried when I saw him bumbling down the staircase towards me."
Allison grins from beside her while everyone else laughs. Stiles goes limp under the Huntress' scritches and Derek just smiles.
~
Derek's running through the woods again later that night, sweat slicking his skin and making the tank top he wore stick to his back and chest.
He's just about to start his second lap on his route, when he's tackled from the side, a furry body landing on his as they both hit the ground hard enough to knock the breathe from his lungs.
He manages to snarl though, the sound cutting short when something rubs against his face, a subtle sweet scent hitting his nose. "God damn it, Stiles, you dick!"
Body relaxing on the ground, the mountain lion settles on his stomach, chin resting on two large paws and eyes bright from the crescent moon from above. Derek reaches out and runs his fingers along the broad nose and up between his ears, a low purr picking up when he continues.
"What are you doing out here?" He questions, continues he's light petting.
Stiles doesn't answer, can't, but he just nuzzles in closer. There's a rustle and then there's a piece of paper being pushed into his hand, slightly damp from being held in Stiles' jaws.
Using the moonlight from above, he reads the note and smiles.
Wanna race me?
Derek's smile turns shy though because just above that is a sentence that's been crossed out once, but still easy to read,
Wanna date me?
He tucks the note close and tries not to grin too widely at how Stiles is avoiding eye contact, nose buried into his chest and under a large paw.
Tugging his paw away, Derek leans in and presses a kiss on his forehead, sighs into the fur there before breathing out, "Yes, to both."