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The first one he goes to is Peter. The older wolf is surprised and defensive when Stiles shows up at his apartment. His eyes flash blue and his claws elongate and Stiles just stares at him, bored.
"You done?" he asks when Peter's growl quiets. Its been an awkward minute or so of posturing on Peter's part, and the nonchalant question in a typical teenage tone is enough to ease some of the tension. "I have a proposal for you." Stiles says. He's still standing outside the front door and when he gestures inside, Peter, still partially wolfed out, steps to the side to let him in.
"By all means," Peter says. His nose can detect nothing but Stiles' normal scent, his ears the rabbit quick beat of Stiles' nerves.
Stiles walks in like he's been there before, though Peter is completely certain he's never even been near the building. The boy sits at the dining room table, a set that came with the apartment and one Peter has never used for actual dining before.
"Listen here," Stiles starts. "I know you have a hard-on for the Alpha powers, but let me set you straight. Derek's going to be getting some lessons, real soon here, about how to alpha, and whatever potential Scott has to be a True Alpha is going to be saved for a later date." Stiles sits in at the head of the table, hands folded quietly in front of him. He looks something like a lawyer, offering a deal. "I can find you another pack to steal the Alpha spark from, if it's direly necessary for you to be the leader, but if you do that they become your pack. No killing them, no abandoning them however big or small the pack is. Also, you're out of Beacon Hills, for good."
"I don't mean to go all Evil Genius on you, but who's going to stop me?" Peter asks. He's had the feeling before that Stiles is nearly his equal in ruthless intent. For being a teenager with accepted social peers, his sociopathic tendencies are spot on.
"You know Deaton would, in a heartbeat. I plan on telling my dad everything soon, and," He pauses for a moment, making sure Peter's eyes are on him. "I've done it before."
"Lighting me on fire, while impressive at the time, would do little against me while in control of my faculties." The claws, which Peter had not yet put away, click in threatening rhythm against the top of the table. Stiles's smile is rueful.
"Yeah, there is that. But you see, that's not the time I'm talking about." Stiles leans back in the chair, a man about to drop an unsettling piece of information. "I'm not exactly from this timeline." Peter blinks. Stiles smiles at him. "In my reality, you go bat-shit crazy, again, about three years from now, I'm not completely sure what set you off, possibly something with the alpha powers you stole from Laura there. No one from my pack lived long enough to find out why." His eyes, unusually focused during the visit, search the floating dust to Peter's left shoulder.
"Right. And I suppose you have some evidence that you are who you say?"
"You don't need evidence. Just know that I mean what I say."