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Derek ran through the woods, swiftly and silently like the predator he was. He had caught Scott’s scent a few miles back along with the sharp ozone smell of magic, and that had him worried. That meant the pack that had been “just passing” through Beacon Hills had dangerous intentions, and apparently someone with magic to help them incapacitate an alpha. He’d called Stiles to get him working on research and counter-magic and told him to gather the pack so they’d be ready when Derek got to the end of the trail. He couldn’t wait for backup and risk losing the scent trail; it was fading and he didn’t know what kind of shape Scott was in. He didn’t smell any blood, but that didn’t mean much when magic was involved. He shifted into his beta form so he could focus on scent and instinct, letting the rest of his senses settle into a low buzz at the back of his mind. The worry for his alpha had him itching to shift into full wolf form, but he stayed on two legs as he made his way through the trees.
He was so focused on the trail and finding Scott that he didn’t hear anyone approaching until they were almost on top of him. At the soft rustle to his left he spun seamlessly into a fighting stance, crouched low with claws and fangs out, eyes burning blue and a growl rumbling from deep in his chest. Chris Argent emerged from the trees with his gun raised; when he saw the werewolf he lowered his weapon and stepped into Derek’s space, looking at the woods around them.
“Derek,” he said in a succinct greeting, moving right into the business of the matter, “I talked to some hunters from Arizona, they told me about a rogue pack that had been moving northwest.” His icy eyes continued to scan the woods as he spoke with his back exposed to Derek; Derek wasn’t his enemy, wasn’t a threat, he didn’t need to watch him. “It’s not a traditional pack, but a group of omegas. One of them, a woman, is acting as the leader for now, but she’s looking to gain an alpha’s power so she can solidify her role and make them a real pack. The hunters said they tried to keep a low profile at first, but bodies piled up before they left town. I tried to get a hold of Scott so we could be on the same page and keep an eye out but he’s not answering; when a couple sensors out here got triggered I came out to try and track them.”
Derek took a moment to pull his wolf back and listen to Argent; breaking his focus so suddenly had him reeling for a moment, but by the time the hunter had finished what Derek could only think of as his debriefing, Derek was fully human. He didn’t waste words; “They took Scott. They used magic, I could smell where he was taken, I’m following his scent trail now. I have Stiles working on research and getting the pack together while I find him.”
Chris snapped his eyes from the trees and focused on Derek’s face, thinking for a moment. “Sounds like you could use some backup,” he said lightly, “if you’ve got a trail, lead the way.”
Derek felt his hand moving before he could stop it, grasping the side of the hunter’s neck and brushing down to his shoulder. He dropped it as quickly as he’d reached out and nodded at Chris, “This way,” he said, and took off again along the trail. He knew Argent was in shape and had stamina, but he still couldn’t match a werewolf’s speed, especially for any length of time, so he slowed his pace a bit, following his nose and listening to make sure he hadn’t lost the hunter behind him.
Even an experienced hunter like Chris couldn’t be totally silent moving through the woods, and Derek had no problem keeping track of him by sound. Strangely, he also felt a buzz at the back of his neck, a heightened awareness of Chris’ location behind him. His wolf pushed at his skin, wanting to reach back and take hold of the man, to claim him.
They ran in silence for a while before Derek slowed to a stop, shoulders tensing as he held a hand out to stop Chris. Before them was a small structure, practically falling down. It had once been a cabin in a clearing, but the woods had reclaimed it; it was surprising that the cabin even stood anymore. Trees and plants grew right up to the structure, and Derek could see cracks in the foundation where they had started taking it over. Scott was inside.
He moved into the hunter’s space, standing almost chest to chest as he spoke quietly into his ear, “They’re just ahead, I smell Scott. There’s… three werewolves and a human. The human smells sharp, there’s magic in their scent. I can’t hear them quite yet, but that means they can’t hear us either. We need a plan, I can’t wait for the pack, I don’t know what they’re planning on doing with Scott but I’m not giving them any extra time to do it.” He realized when he stopped talking that he had been growling through the whole thing; his alpha was in danger and his wolf was thrumming under his skin, wanting to rush in and tear apart anything in his way, but he needed to be smarter than that.
Chris put a hand on Derek’s shoulder and pulled back so he could look him in the eye, “We’ll get him back, Derek,” he said earnestly, “you won’t lose another alpha. We’ll keep your pack together.”
Derek felt himself (his wolf) leaning in, and he rubbed his temple against the hunter’s. Having Chris on his side, working with him to protect his alpha, made him feel like pack and that meant he should smell like pack. He breathed in deep right below Chris’ ear; the hunter was experienced and careful about minimizing his scent so Derek had to be close to pick up the subtle tones. Metal and gunpowder, the faint trace of wolfsbane that made his nose twitch uncomfortably, sweat, and Chris’ unique scent under it all, that Derek didn’t have a name for but felt like safety and trust. Those couple seconds of scenting helped to settle his wolf and calm his mind.
He stepped back once the frantic panic had receded enough, Chris’ hand falling from his shoulder, and pulled out his phone to text the pack their location. When he looked up from his phone Chris was standing very still with wide eyes focused on Derek. Oh shit. “Oh, shit. Chris, I’m sorry, that was, uh…”
Chris just stared at him expectantly, clearing wanting an explanation for something Derek didn’t feel ready to explain.
“Ok so with wolves… and scent… it’s like, with pack, right? And you’re here…” his hands gestured to the hunter and to the forest around them, like that made any sort of sense. Derek heaved a sigh and was about to launch into another rambling attempt at an explanation when his phone buzzed, notifying him that the pack was on their way. That helped him refocus on the task at hand and saved him from being an awkward turtle in front of Chris.
“Right, I’ll explain later. Can I explain later? We need to move in, do you have any suggestions?”
Argent moved forward a few paces to get a better view of the cabin. There were square openings in the structure where windows and a door once stood, now just gaping holes. He started a wide arc around it, maintaining his distance so as not to alert anyone inside that they were there. Derek followed closely behind, eerily silent as he moved through the woods even though Chris knew he was close. When he had finished a full circle he turned to the wolf, “I can take post behind that grouping of trees across from the door, that will give me good visibility to cover you if you come in through the back,” he gestured to the rifle he had slung across his back. “The overgrowth will help us, give us more cover as we approach.”
Derek nodded and started to move away when Chris grabbed his arm, halting him, “Derek. I know Scott’s your alpha but be careful, you can’t go in ripping and tearing on this one. Watch out for the human, we can’t risk you getting hit by a spell. I’ll try and take them out first if I can.” Derek nodded again, rubbing a hand down Chris’ arm before turning away and stalking towards the large opening that used to be a door.
As he moved towards the cabin and towards a fight, he let his wolf surface, felt his claws lengthen and his fangs grow, felt his face shift and his eyes glow. He moved silently and crouched just outside the structure to listen.
“How much longer until he wakes up, Larry?” a female voice said irritably from inside, “His pack will be on their way soon, we need to get this done so we can clear out.”
“We should have another hour or so Alice,” a nervous male answered, “the ritual won’t take that long, but we should get started. We can’t have him waking before his power is transferred to you.”
Derek snarled and lept up to enter through the window opening, but he hit an invisible barrier and fell back to the dirt. They had lined the cabin in mountain ash, and his attempt at getting in had let them know he was there. A thin, pale face appeared in the window with a sneer; Derek rolled out of instinct, barely avoiding a curse that exploded a chunk of granite on the ground next to him. He scrambled back into cover in the trees, making his way towards Chris as quickly as he could while staying out of sight.
Low chanting started from the cabin and Derek felt magic in the air, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Just as he was getting to the cluster of trees where the hunter was hidden he heard the low pop of the silenced rifle and saw the large, male werewolf inside drop. He came right up to Chris’ side, “Mountain ash,” he told him, “I can’t get in.”
Chris nodded, “I can’t get a clear shot on the other two. The were took cover, the human is mostly behind Scott and I’m not going to risk the shot from here. Let’s move in.” He slung the rifle across his back and took the handgun from the holster on his thigh.
Shoulder to shoulder, they moved in towards the cabin. They’d been expecting werewolves to try and save Scott, but most packs didn’t have humans on their side, and definitely not hunters. The human was focused on Scott now, a faint red glow emanating from the alpha’s body. The short female wolf, Alice, blocked the doorway, snarling. She was small but looked vicious, all taut muscle and rage. Her eyes glowed blue. Chris and Derek worked as a team, moving together without having to discuss it. Chris moved forward, Derek a step behind. Derek crouched and started a leap as Chris swept in down low, booted foot shooting out to break the mountain ash line. Derek leapt over the hunter’s shoulder, crossing the threshold as the line was broken and slamming the full weight of his body into the smaller wolf. In just a couple seconds he was on top of her with lethal claws at her throat, snarling and growling into her face. The large werewolf was slumped in the corner, a wolfsbane bullet in his thigh rendering him useless and not their problem at the moment.
Derek caught the smell of blood- Chris’ blood- and his grip on Alice’s throat tightened. He had to work to pull himself back, to avoid killing her, as he gritted out between his fangs, “Chris, are you ok? Chris!” he ended in almost a roar.
The hunter moved into the cabin smoothly behind him, firing a round from his handgun into the left shoulder of the weasley man chanting over Scott. The chanting stopped immediately and the red glow vanished, magic sizzling and cracking in the air as it dissipated. “I’m fine, Derek, she grazed me, I’m fine.”
Scott remained unconscious on the low stone slab. Chris stood over the man, Larry apparently, gun trained to the center of his chest, and leaned in dangerously. “Wake up the alpha,” he said lowly, baring his teeth almost like he was a wolf, too. Larry gasped with wide, terrified eyes and nodded, reaching into his pocket. Chris spat out, “Slowly, don’t give me a reason to kill you.”
With shaking hands, the man withdrew a small vial with pale green powder inside. “Sss-s-sweetmint,” he sputtered, “it’ll counteract the sleeping spell.”
Chris stepped back, aim not wavering, “Do it,” he commanded, “and don’t try anything, I promise you won’t survive it.”
After an audible gulp Larry slowly stood up, pouring the vial of powder into his palm. He hovered over Scott once again and blew the powder into his face so it would get breathed in. A very tense ten seconds passed with Derek straining to leave Alice’s throat attached to her body, the large man in the corner’s labored breathing rattling through the cabin, and the ferret-like magic human trembling under the weight of Chris’ aim. Scott gasped harshly awake, sitting bolt upright and wolfing out with his eyes glowing a heated red and let out a roar. He glared around the cabin, taking in the scene as the rest of the pack burst in from the trees, responding to their alpha’s roar.
Kira swept in with her katana raised, landing gracefully in the small space of the cabin. Liam came in with his claws out, looking terrified as usual, but with a determined set to his jaw. Malia leapt in through a window and may have landed on the injured big guy in the corner (accidentally? Let’s go with accidentally), and finally Stiles managed to trip over apparently nothing as he barrelled through the doorway, barely stopping in time to avoid landing on top of Derek and the woman on the floor, his claws still at her throat. Derek rolled his eyes and stood, pinning Alice to the wall with a low, warning growl to discourage her from trying anything.
Everyone just stared for a few seconds, realizing that Chris and Derek had the situation well in hand. Stiles broke the tension with a slightly hysterical “The cavalry is here!” with a flourish of his hands before scrambling over to Scott, disregarding the claws and fangs and red eyes as he ran his hands over his face and shoulders, fingers fluttering down his ribs, searching for injuries, “Scotty? Hey Scotty, baby, you ok? How are you feeling? Are you hurt? I didn’t know what we were facing so I just brought a little of everything…” he trailed off as he swung his backpack off his shoulders and unzipped it, burrowing in and pulling out random jars and bags of herbs.
Stiles froze suddenly, amber eyes narrowing dangerously and turning to glare at the bleeding skinny guy that Chris still had at gunpoint. With all the commotion, he had started muttering under his breath, but Stiles had felt the faint thrums of magic moving off of him. In an instant he was in the guy’s face with a small silver knife pressed to his throat.
“Who are you?” he asked calmly, lowly, “What’s your name?”
“Larry,” Chris answered for him when the guy was apparently too afraid to give Stiles an answer himself.
Stiles nodded thoughtfully, his actions precise and controlled. He switched the knife to his left hand, keeping the tip pressed against Larry’s throat so his right hand could come up to the guy’s injured shoulder in a seemingly friendly gesture. The sharp squeeze to the bleeding wound was anything but friendly, and Stiles put on a razor sharp smile that had his entire pack holding their breath. The kid could be downright terrifying when he wanted to be. Namely, when someone he loved was in danger. “Larry,” he said conversationally, “I really hope, for your sake, that you didn’t do any lasting damage to my alpha over there. Because let me tell you,” his voice dropped to a whisper and he leaned in close, another firm squeeze to Larry’s shoulder causing the man to hiss in pain, “I can do worse.”
“Stiles,” Scott said warningly, letting a bit of an alpha rumble seep through his voice; he hated seeing that scary calm on him, it reminded him too much of the nogitsune. “Stiles I’m ok.”
Larry’s frantic eyes darted over Stiles’ shoulder for just a second to glance at Scott, “Yes, yes, he’s fine I promise,” his voice was breathy and desperate, “the only spell I had used was the one to knock him unconscious, the power transfer spell that Alice was making me do was incomplete, they stopped me,” he said, gesturing to Derek and Chris, “Please don’t kill me I’m not even an emissary, they aren’t even an actual pack, I don’t even want to be here, I was just trying to survive and Alice was strong-”
He was cut off by a sharp “Larry,” from Stiles, “I never thought I’d say this to another person, but you talk too much. Stay here and shut up, or my friend Chris here is going to shoot you again.” With a quick nod, he turned and pulled Scott into a bruising kiss.
“Scotty can you do me a favor and stop getting kidnapped? I really don’t handle it well.”
Scott chuckled and nodded, “I’ll work on it, babe. Let’s get this figured out, ok?” He stood to talk to the two omegas and the human in the room who are all cowering under the combined intimidation of his pack. “Alice, you’re in charge?” he asked, addressing the small woman still pinned to the wall by her throat and Derek’s claws. She nodded. “Ok listen Alice, I don’t want to kill you, but we can’t have you killing anyone else either, you understand? So I’ll let you and your friends leave town, separately, escorted by members of my pack. I really suggest leaving and not causing any more trouble. My mate here isn’t big on second chances.”
“Or first,” Stiles interjected, hovering at Scott’s elbow and watching him for any signs of injury.
Scott shrugged, indicating that Stiles had a point there. “Ok, Stiles, Liam, and Kira, you three take Larry east. Malia, I’ll come with you to escort Alice. Derek and Chris, can you burn the wolfsbane out of big guy over there in the corner and take him south?” Everyone nodded and Derek finally released Alice, letting her slump to the floor coughing. They all got situated, Derek got a lighter from Stiles, and everyone left the cabin except for Chris, Derek, and the big guy.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Derek asked, crouching down in front of the man. He was pale and sweating, the poison working in his system. His answer was a glob of blood and saliva spat at his feet. “Alright,” Derek nodded, “I could let you die but my alpha would be pissed at me for that. So I’m still going to burn this wolfsbane out of you, and drag your sorry ass to the edge of our territory. After that, you aren’t my problem anymore.” He flashed a charming smile and brandished the lighter. “Chris? Can you crack open one of those bullets for me?” he asked brightly with his eyes still on the large werewolf in front of him, glowing a dangerous blue.
Argent huffed a laugh and crouched down beside Derek, pouring the powdered wolfsbane from the bullet into the hole in the large man’s leg. Derek’s smile turned wild, his teeth a little sharper than usual, as he flicked on the lighter and held it to the powder.
~~~
After the rogue non-pack was taken care of Derek and Chris went back to the Argent home. Chris drove them back to town in his car since Derek had made his way out there on foot in his rush to get to Scott and keep the scent trail. After his weapons were stowed, Chris took account of his injuries; nothing too serious, but a couple gashes on his shoulder would probably need stitches, where Alice managed to get her claws in him as they made entry into the cabin. He dug out his emergency medical kit and started lining up what he’d need to stitch up his arm. It would be a weird angle, but he could probably manage. He stripped out of his jacket and shirt and poured some disinfectant over the wounds, hissing through his teeth at the burn. He had almost forgotten that Derek was even there before a broad, tan hand picked up the threaded needle from the counter.
“Let me,” Derek said, “it may not be the best sewing job but at least I’ll be able to see what I’m doing.”
Chris just nodded and turned, giving Derek better access to the cuts. He didn’t flinch or whine as Derek stitched him up with surprisingly gentle hands; he’d had worse injuries before, a few stitches weren’t a big deal. Chris ventured, “So, the scent thing?”
Derek’s hands stilled for a moment before resuming their sewing. He was thankful for the distraction, that he didn’t have to say this face to face. “Yeah, it’s um, it’s a thing in packs. I mean, obviously we use scent to detect danger and hunt, to track, which you know about, but we also use it to distinguish pack members and… and mates.” He cleared his throat nervously, “Anyway I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have just done it like that when you didn’t know what it meant, without permission. You were out there risking yourself to help my alpha, my wolf felt connected to you and you felt like ma- like pack, but you didn’t smell right. I just felt like… like you needed to smell more like me. Like pack,” he corrected in a rush as he tied off the stitches and cut the thread.
The two men sat in silence as Derek carefully covered the wounds in a clean bandage and patted Chris on his uninjured shoulder to let him know he was finished. There was something hanging heavy in the air between them, and Derek broke first. Chris felt feather-light touches across his ribs, towards the top of a shoulder blade, along his spine. Derek was tracing his scars.
“The marks stay behind on my side of the fight,” Chris said lightly, huffing a soft laugh.
“I did these ones,” Derek murmured, grazing his fingers over three jagged scars that ran down Chris’ forearm.
“I did worse to you,” Chris answered him gruffly, finally standing to face the werewolf, “before. When we were still enemies. Before we were working together. Before we were on the same team, before we were...” he trailed off.
“Pack.” Derek said, looking into his eyes.
“Just pack?” Chris asked softly. Derek didn’t say anything in response, he just shook his head, eyes focusing on Chris’ mouth.
Derek wasn’t sure who moved first but the next moment they were crashing into each other, mouths insistent and demanding, coming together with bruising force. Chris’ hands looped around Derek’s waist to fist themselves into the back of his shirt and pull him closer, surging up into the kiss. Derek’s hands were in constant motion; rubbing along Chris’ shoulders, his neck, grazing blunt, human nails through his short hair and leaving his scent behind on the hunter’s skin. Their kisses were harsh and unforgiving, the need to claim and take pushing out any underlying tenderness.
The more their scents mingled, Chris’ getting stronger under the flush of his arousal, the more Derek’s wolf howled pack and mine and mate. He felt his eyes glowing blue and the sharp prick of his claws trying to emerge from his fingertips, but he pulled his wolf back sharply. He used soft, grazing touches to explore Chris’ torso, feeling the bumps and ridges of the scars he’d collected over his hunting career. An involuntary growl rumbled from deep in his chest when he felt the outline of a scar that was evidence of a wound dangerously close to his heart. His wolf was just about ready to take over, pick Chris up and carry him somewhere soft and safe (bed? a bed would work), lick and caress his wounds, his scars, push Derek’s scent into his skin so that everyone would know that Chris was his and that Derek would come after anyone who put him in danger. Derek had just gotten Chris’ legs wrapped around his waist and was walking through the door to find a bed when a sharp trill sounded from the direction of his pocket.
He wanted to ignore it; he wanted so badly to ignore it, but it was Scott’s ringtone and Scott was his alpha who was very recently in danger and they just had rogue wolves on their territory and it could be important. “Yeah.” he answered with a growl, eyes flickering between electric blue and his natural gold/green/hazel as he stared at Chris, who disentangled himself from Derek enough to stand on the floor, but stayed pressed against him.
“Derek, we need to have a pack meeting now, to set up patrols and make sure we aren’t going to have any more trouble from those three. I’m not sure if they were the only omegas running through here, but we need to get a solid plan in place and get everyone on the same page so we’re prepared if anything else decides to pop up this week.”
“Alright. Loft in fifteen minutes.” was the abrupt answer from Derek, and he heaved a sigh, addressing Chris. “Pack meeting.” Apparently conversational sentences were too complex for him to manage at his current level of frustration. Chris nodded and stepped back, meaning to let Derek leave, when the werewolf linked their hands and said, “Let’s get you a clean shirt, you can drive us to the loft, my car is still there,” and dragged Chris out of the room behind him.
~~~
Nobody said anything when Argent was suddenly a part of their pack meetings. Liam came close, but Stiles just put his broad hand over Liam’s entire face and shook his head at him. Malia narrowed her eyes and thought about saying something, but then she smelled them and just nodded. Scott welcomed Chris in with a warm, sad smile and a hand on his shoulder. Everyone else trusted that if their alpha was fine with it, they could be fine with it.
Chris made a great addition to the pack, his hunter’s connections bringing in valuable information that gave them warning and saved their lives more than once. Derek was still quiet and on the outer edges of the pack, but he smelled calmer and happier; the bitter tang of guilt steadily leaving his scent. Chris emerged from his solitude, breaking out of his grief and feeling a sense of purpose again. Soon, the loft was the pack’s place and Derek was living at the Argent home. They worked well together, both in protecting their pack and Beacon Hills and in their relationship. They healed each other’s scars.