Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ONE- 

Wrapped up, so consumed by

All this hurt

If you ask me, don't

Know where to start

Anger, love, confusion

Roads that go nowhere

I know there's somewhere better

'Cause you always take me there

Stiles

The blankets tangled around Stiles’ legs as he thrashed awake, a scream tearing from his throat. He scrambled to turn on his desk lamp, the light chasing away the Oni-shaped shadows. 

“Stiles, you alright?” Noah’s voice called from outside his door.

Stiles cringed. He had been waking up his dad with his nightmare for weeks now. “I’m fine,” he croaked out. He wasn’t fine. Stiles hadn’t been okay since November.

Christmas was in a few days. Before, Stiles would be dragging Scott to the mall to find last-minute gifts. A new watch and tie for his dad, a lacrosse stick, and a video game for Scott, and he’d buy Lydia something outrageous, but he’d swear it was needed for his ten-year plan.

This year, he just hoped he’d get at least a few minutes to eat a Christmas dinner with his dad. But between Matt’s attack last year and the bomb from October, the station was severely understaffed, and the Sheriff worked a lot of extra hours. 

“It’s about six, but I’m going to head into work early. Call me if you need anything, son.” 

“Okay. Bye, Dad.” Stiles pulled the covers back over his head and switched his lamp off. 

Stiles didn’t hear the heavy steps of his dad’s work boots on the stairs, meaning he was still standing outside the door. Noah knew his son was depressed. “You have any plans today?”

Stiles knew his dad was worried. “Yeah, Scott’s coming by later to play some video games.” It was a lie, they both know it. 

“I’ll leave some money for delivery on the counter. Bye, son.” 

Only after Stiles heard the cruiser's engine disappear down the street did he take his blanket off. His room was dark, thanks to the blackout curtains he hung right when the holiday break started. 

Stiles’ sleep schedule has been a mess since Scott got bitten, but after everything that had happened, he never had any plans for the day.

Hours passed, and he didn’t move. He ignored the rumble of his stomach, the ache of his bladder, and the emptiness in his chest. He just stared at his ceiling, seeing flashes of katanas, blood, and dirty gauze. The gauze wrapped around him, suffocating him until he hyperventilated. At some point, Stiles passed out from the lack of oxygen. 

It was one of the few ways Stiles fell asleep anymore. His body would be so exhausted from his panic that he didn’t dream. 

Stiles’ body was violently shaken awake. He jumped, pulling out the bat he kept tucked between the mattress and the wall.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scott screamed, backing away from the swinging weapon.

“Scott?” Stiles hadn’t seen him since Allison’s funeral. He brought the bat down out of the air.

“Your dad called me. He said you told him we have plans. Why did you lie? Huh? What do you actually have planned? How much more damage could you possibly cause?” Scott’s words lashed at him.

Stiles frowned. His room was a mess, and he hadn’t showered in days. Scott really thought he had some sort of nefarious plan. “I didn’t think he’d bother you. Sorry.”

“Don’t you ever use me in your lies again. I have a pack to take care of and protect. That means staying away from you.” Scott’s new red eyes glowed brightly within the darkness of Stiles’ room.

Stiles wanted to argue, and scream at Scott. Didn’t he see how messed up his friend was? Didn’t he smell the guilt that probably clogged the air? Stiles even finished out the fall semester of his junior year of year school through the online school, too much of a coward to face everyone. People weren't just going to forgive and forget all the hurt that had been done by his hands, wearing his face. 

Stiles would never forget all the bloodshed. He had no clue how he’d ever forgive himself.  “You don’t have to worry about me, Scotty. I don’t trust myself around people either.” 

Scott just turned on his heel with a growl. “It better stay that way. The next time I see you, and I even sense that something is off, I’ll let Chris kill you.” 

Death was probably better than the tortured existence Stiles lived now. Scott’s exit was sounded by the slam of the front door. 

Stiles gripped the front of his shirt, desperate to ground himself. He faintly heard his own gasping breaths as he broke down into sobs, blood rushing in his ears. 

He knew the elder Argent wanted to kill him. In those last few weeks of school, after he got separated from the nogitsune, Chris’s red truck followed him senselessly. 

At the end of Allison’s funeral, of which Stiles watched hidden, rows away from the rest of the mourners, Chris cornered him. Stiles still felt the cold sting of the pistol against his forehead.

“This is your fault.” The man’s blue eyes were stark against his red skin, voice rough from grief.

Stiles met Chris’s gaze with his own tear-filled eyes. “I know. I’m so sorry.” He made no move to get away from the gun. 

“One wrong move and your father will be cleaning your brains from a wall,” Chris hissed, then left.

He hadn’t left his room after school ended. He wouldn’t be surprised if Chris was parked down the street. 

He wondered what the rest of the pack-no, Scott’s pack, Stiles had no place in it-was up to. Were Scott and Kira still together? Had Malia caught up on her schoolwork? Had Isaac gotten over the loss of Erica and Boyd? And the Hales…

Stiles always felt some sort of deep connection to the broken family. Did Cora come back? Is Peter still plotting to take over the world? Is Derek okay, after nearly losing everything, again? 

It’s Beacon Hills. And Stiles knew better than to hope that things would be okay. 

~~~

Derek

Derek wished he didn’t have to return to Beacon Hills. The only reason he came back was that it was the place his wolf considered home. The land sang to him, calling to his blood

After everything, losing his family, Laura, Peter, almost losing his betas to the Alpha Pack, and giving up his Alpha spark to save Cora, Derek didn’t think the town had anything happy to offer.

Yet, he still pulled up the large cabin he bought, ready to make this place home. 

The last battle with the nogitsune left them all worse for wear. Derek had sent barely alive Boyd and Erica to Cora’s South America pack to heal and hide. When the Alpha Pack thought the betas were dead, it was easier to defeat them. He had planned on joining them until the Oni attacked his apartment.  

It was hard for him to believe that skinny, defenseless Stiles was the powerful dark spirit. But when he saw the teen's usually vibrant, light brown eyes bleed black, and the hollow echo voice from the throat, he knew he couldn’t abandon the fight yet.

Derek spent the weeks before Christmas bringing back together his scattered pack. Cora and Peter were still at the loft, and Boyd and Erica would fly back in a few days before the holiday.

After a few days of cleaning the cabin, assembling furniture, and scenting every room, he finally went into town.  He wanted to know how the rag-tag groups of teens that McCall considered a pack were doing. 

He parked the Camaro at the back edge of the school lot. It was the last day before break, and the bell would ring at any minute. Soon, people started pouring out of the doors. 

Derek spotted Scott with his arm wrapped around the Yukimura girl, trailed by Lydia, Malia, and Isaac. Derek frowned a little when he didn’t see Stiles anywhere in the crowd. His jeep wasn’t even in the lot. It was rare that the True Alpha went anywhere without Stiles. 

Maybe Stiles skipped the last day, and they were going to all hang out at his house. Derek followed them, separated by a few cars. They never turned down the street to Stiles’ neighborhood. 

Derek debated on whether or not to follow them or to check on Stiles. He voted for the latter. The cruiser wasn’t in the driveway next to the jeep. Derek only heard one heartbeat. He nodded to himself- Stiles was home and safe. The teen was probably just getting a head start on sleep for the break. 

He drove back into the preserve. The town seemed content and quiet, yet Derek’s wolf was still restless. He figured it would calm down when his betas got home. 

Scott was waiting for Derek at the cabin when he got back, Isaac standing at his flank. 

Derek smiled at the blonde and looked at Scott, “McCall.”

“What are you doing here, Derek?” Scott crossed his arms over his chest.

“Beacon Hills is my home, my territory.”

“You aren’t an alpha anymore. You have no right to this land. As the current Alpha and Protector of the land, I need to know of all wolves coming and going. You should have announced your arrival and asked permission to stay here.”

Derek scoffed. “This land runs on Hales’ blood. I have never needed anyone’s permission to be here. Least above some seventeen-year-old alpha.”

“You’ll need to submit to me as Alpha if you are going to stay here,” Scott continued at his power play. 

Derek held back a laugh. “Get off my property, Scott.”

Scott growled, flashing his eyes. “I don’t want to be enemies again, Derek. I’ll give you until the New Year to make up your mind. Submit or face my wrath.” Scott stepped off the porch, ready to pounce on Derek, but was stopped by Isaac’s hand on his arm. 

The blonde shook his head and whispered, “Now is not the time.” Then Isaac met Derek’s eyes with a silent plea. He was sorry for Scott’s actions, but at the same time knew that Derek would win the fight. Scott’s humiliation would only lead to more anger and violence. 

Scott shook Isaac off with a loud huff, “New Year’s Day, Hale. Let’s go, Isaac.”

Derek ignored Scott. “Isaac, I may not be an Alpha anymore, but I did turn you, which will always make us pack. You’re welcome here at any time.” He offered Isaac a small smile.

Isaac didn’t get a chance to reply because Scott pulled him back into the trees. 

There was an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. Isaac seemed to be scared… of Scott. What would Scott have done if Derek had engaged him in a fight? 

True Alphas were only formed in those wolves with the most genuine hearts, with the utmost love, loyalty, and trust for and from their pack. There should never be fear in a pack led by a True Alpha.

Derek watched the McCall pack for the next few days. It was like when Scott got bitten all over again. Scott struggled with control, growling and bossing his betas around everywhere. The one thing that bothered Derek the most was that Stiles was never with any of them.

The jeep was always in the driveway, and Stiles’ heartbeat always sounded steady. 

One morning, three days before Christmas, Derek was watching Stiles’ house again. Noah had left for work, and Stiles lied about hanging out with Scott. Stiles had jolted awake due to a nightmare. Derek had become familiar with the rhythms of Stiles’ heart during the day. He watched the Stilinski household more than he’d like to admit. It was the one place his wolf always wanted him to make sure was safe. 

Stiles’ heart returned to a slow rhythm, he’d fallen back asleep. Only after Derek listened to him hyperventilate. He wanted to go into the house and comfort the teen, but didn’t want Scott to have a reason to attack Derek. Derek needed to stay away from McCall's territory. 

Derek checked his watch. He had around four hours before Boyd and Erica’s flight landed. The airport was only an hour outside of town. The drive would be even longer if Derek returned to the cabin. At least, that was the rationalization he told himself when he decided to spend the day watching Stiles’ house. 

Derek dozed in his car, matching his breathing to Stiles’. It was chill, right until lunchtime when Derek awoke to the sound of Scott’s bike roaring down the street. Scott hadn’t come to Stiles’ house once since Derek started patrolling the town. This wasn’t good.

Derek watched him storm into the house without knocking. Derek got out of his car quietly, making his way around the back of the house. He perched on the tree branch outside the window and listened. 

Scott stomped through the house and barged into Stiles’ room. Derek flinched at the sound of the door hitting the wall.  Stiles’ heartbeat jumped, and Derek heard rushed movements.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scott screamed.

“Scott?” Stiles sounded half-asleep yet shocked. 

“Your dad called me. He said you told him we have plans. Why did you lie? Huh? What do you actually have planned? How much more damage could you possibly cause?” Derek had never heard Scott speak so harshly to Stiles.

“I didn’t think he’d bother you. Sorry.”

Defend yourself, Derek wanted to tell Stiles. 

“Don’t you ever use me in your lies again. I have a pack to take care of and protect. That means staying away from you.” 

Derek’s eyes widened in surprise. Scott kicked Stiles out of the pack.

 “You don’t have to worry about me, Scotty. I don’t trust myself around people either.” 

Derek whined at how dejected Stiles sounded. And when he spoke, his heartbeat never faltered. He believed that he wasn’t good. 

Scott growled, “It better stay that way. The next time I see you, and I even sense that something is off, I’ll let Chris kill you.” 

Derek almost fell from the tree he was in. Chris was the only Argent left after the nogitsune killed Allison. But from everything he just heard, it seemed Scott, the pack, and Chris blamed Stiles. It was common knowledge that nobody survived a nogitsune possession, but Stiles did. He was strong enough to sacrifice himself to the nemeton to save his dad from the Darach, and then to fight the demon out. He was probably stronger than most of the wolves in Beacon Hills.

Derek waited for Scott to speed back down the street, then gently eased his way into Stiles’ room.

Stiles sat on his bed, eyes screwed shut, shirt gripped tightly in his hands, and body shuddering with the gasping breaths he took.

Derek didn’t think he even noticed when the older wolf scooped him into his arms. Derek ran his hands up and down Stiles’ back, chest rumbling with soothing purrs. 

Derek held Stiles in his arms as the depressed teen cried himself to sleep for the second time that day. 

Derek wanted to cry as he laid Stiles down, choking on the air of the room. The room was polluted with scents of despair, loneliness, defeat, guilt, and just the plain stench of sweat. 

If Stiles was no longer considered part of Scott’s pack, then Derek would bring him into his. The human had nearly given his life too many times to save wolves who didn’t care about him. Derek vowed that the human would feel loved and wanted in his pack.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 2-

Came to you with a broken faith

Gave me more than a hand to hold

Caught before I hit the ground

Tell me I'm safe, you've got me now

Stiles

Scott’s words left Stiles reeling in a downward spiral. He wished he wasn’t so weak that he passed out from a panic attack… again. All he saw in his dreams was the smoking end of Chris Argent’s gun, or an arrow protruding from his chest, or a katana slitting his throat. A million different ways for him to die. 

“Stiles,” A low voice reached his ears. “Hey, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

Stiles blinked in confusion. There was a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his middle. “What the hell?” He pushed at the arms until they let go. “Derek?”

“Hey," the wolf rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Care to explain why I woke up in your arms?” Stiles pulled his knees to his chest.

“I have been in town for a few weeks and figured it was time to see everyone. I heard everything with Scott and have been here since right before you passed out.” Derek moved from the bed to the desk chair. If he noticed the mess around the room, he ignored it for the sake of Stiles’ comfort. 

Stiles flinched, “You heard all of that? And you're still here?”

“I couldn’t just leave you in distress.” Derek looked at Stiles like his reasons were obvious.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, and all of a sudden you care?” Stiles pushed all his anger and feelings of abandonment into the question. 

“You’re pack, of course, I care.” Derek’s voice was softer than Stiles had ever heard it before.

“You heard Scott, I’m not a part of the pack. I’m a danger to the pack. You need to leave before you end up hurt or dead!” Stiles was screaming, throat raw from all the crying he’d already done that day.

He fucking hated that Derek had to see him like this. It was easy to hide from everyone when nobody cared for him. Not even his dad looked and tried to see how lost he was. Stiles constantly told himself that his dad was just busy at the station, but the nagging voice in his head said he was avoiding Stiles. It was easier for him to work long hours at the station than deal with the nightmares and depression. Stiles knew he wasn’t worthy of anyone’s time or effort. 

“Scott’s a fucking idiot,” Derek growled. 

Stiles let out a dry laugh. “Well, he was all I had next to my dad. If  you were hoping to use me to get in his good graces, you’re shit out of luck, Sourwolf.” 

“No. I don't want to be McCall’s pack. I want you in my pack.”

Stiles’ head popped up from his knees. “With all due respect, you’re not an alpha anymore. Can you even have a pack?”

“I don’t need red eyes to have my pack on my family’s land.” 

“Fair. But why me?” Stiles held in the I’m not important or strong.

“I don’t think anyone else would cut off my arm to save my life or hold me up in a pool for two hours straight. I also know how you comforted me when the Alpha pack attacked my loft. And with Boyd.” Derek moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been a greater aid to me and my pack more than you know. It can be your pack too if you want.”

"So it’d be just you, me, Peter, and Cora?” Stile stated, playing with the fringed edge of his blanket. 

“Boyd and Erica as well.”

Stiles felt a sense of hope for the first time in months. “They’re alive?”

“Yeah. They were very close to death after what Deucalion did. I sent them to Cora’s old pack to heal. It was easier for people to think they died.”

“Would they want me in the pack?” They weren’t here for the possession, but if they caught a whiff of the blood Stiles had on his hand, he doubted they would want a murderer in the pack. 

“I’m picking them up from the airport here soon. Why don’t you ask them yourself?” Derek offered.

Stiles thought about it for a while. He hadn’t left his house in forever. He feared running into Scott, Chris, or anyone who might fear or hate him. But Derek would protect him, right? “Yeah. I could use some fresh air.” Stiles put on a fake smile.

Derek left the room to let him get changed. Stiles cringed at the stuffy feeling and was further embarrassed at the thought that Derek had sat in the stench for hours. He quickly opened his window and lit a candle. 

The hot shower felt amazing. Stiles’ muscles ached from the days he spent in bed. He scrubbed his body down multiple times, hoping to wash away any sad chemo signals. 

He found Derek sitting at the kitchen table. “You ready, Big Guy?”

Derek nodded and led Stiles to the Camaro parked down the street. The sun was just beginning to set, and people’s Christmas lights were lit. Stiles just enjoyed the joyous decorations as they made their way out of the neighborhood, onto the highway. 

The Amador County Airport was an hour from town and only took private flights. Stiles wondered what strings Derek pulled to get Erica and Boyd to fly in here instead of Sacramento or San Francisco. Granted, those big cities were multiple hours away from town, but those were the airports people normally picked. 

Derek parked right on the airstrip, where there was a small plane waiting. Stiles stayed hunched over in the car when Derek got out to greet his betas.

He smiles softly a the sight. Erica leaped into his arms, hair flying. The last time Stiles saw the blonde, she was beaten black and blue. Boyd got a long hug from Derek. Stiles even thought he saw Derek wipe a few tears from his eyes. 

If there was anyone who deserved a second chance at a family, it was Derek. Stiles knew the older man had been through hell and back- that he shouldered so much guilt and burden about the Hale Fire. 

And he wants you in that family, a voice reminded Stiles. 

Stiles was startled from his musing by the passenger door opening. 

“Batman!” Erica yanked him from the car into a tight hug. 

“Hey, Catwoman. It’s good to see you alive, but it’s getting hard to breathe,” Stiles wheezed.

Erica dropped him back to the ground. “Derek didn’t tell us you were coming.”

Stiles shrugged. “It was a last-minute thing.”

“Well, we’re happy you’re here. It’s nice to see familiar faces,” Boyd spoke up.

There was no hesitation or cold shoulder from with wolves. They looked at Stiles with genuine smiles and bright eyes. Stiles wanted to believe that they’d look at him like that forever, but deep down he knew that they would look at him with hate in their eyes, like everyone else. I’ll take a little happiness and love where I can get it, even if it’s only for a little while. 

Derek loaded their luggage into the trunk. “Get in the car, guys. We need to get home. And do you want to pick up dinner or eat a late meal at the cabin?”

Everyone piled in. It was a little tight with Erica and Boyd in the backseat of the Camaro. 

“Can we stop for dinner?” Stiles was dying for a burger. He couldn’t remember that last meal he had other than stale Pop-Tarts.

Derek nodded and started the car back up. Erica insisted on being the DJ and blasted Top 40 Pop music for the entire ride. Stiles hummed under his breath, letting his head rest against the car window. Between the rumble of the engine and Erica’s singing, it was the calmest Stiles had felt in a long time.

~~~

Derek

He didn’t smell as sad anymore. There was still the underlying salty scent of depression, but the flowery scent of calm had been slowly seeping from the teen since they picked Erica and Boyd up. 

They found a small diner just outside of Beacon Hills and crowded into the booth. The walls were decorated with racing tiles and blue paint. The booths were made of worn red leather, and the tables were mismatched, like from garage sales. There seemed to only be three people working- one chef, one waitress, and an old man sitting near a coffee station. 

“What can I get y’all?” the waitress approached their table. She had streaky red-dyed hair piled at the top of her head. The colorful strands were a stark contrast to the black uniform she wore. 

“Eight double bacon cheeseburgers with curly fries and a large shake in every flavor you have,” Derek ordered without looking at the menu. “Thank you-” he paused to read her name tag. “Thank you, Katherine.”

“Y’all are very welcome,” she said in her southern accent, walking away with wide eyes. 

Derek knew that he had ordered a lot of food, but she didn’t comment on it. She gave the chef the ticket, and he let out a curse. All Derek heard after that was the sizzle of the griddle and clang of utensils. 

Derek leaned back into the booth and threw an arm around Stiles’ shoulder. He let his fingers trace the knobs of the boy's spine that poked through his skin. He had gotten even skinnier in the last few months. Stiles had lost a lot of weight when he was possessed, but he was bird-like now. 

Dere knew he was going to have to feed him regularly.

“So what have you been up to, Stiles?” Boyd started the conversation. 

“Not much. Just relaxing during the break.” He kept his eyes cast to his lap. 

Erica and Boyd nodded. His heartbeat was steady, so he technically wasn’t lying. And if Derek hadn’t been stalking his house recently, he’d believe Stiles, too. But Derek knew that relaxing meant wallowing. 

“Tell me about Brazil,” Stiles prompted.

Derek groaned lightly, knowing Erica’s rant would last the rest of dinner. 

She made it to the part when she tried to go free diving in the Atlantic Ocean, when their mountain of food arrived. 

The burgers smelled absolutely amazing. Katherine placed twelve different shakes on the table.

“So we have eight burgers, with orders of large curly fries. And the shakes are vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, cookies'cream, Snickers, cheesecake, brownie, banana, chocolate banana, strawberry banana, mint chocolate chip, and salted caramel.” 

“Thank you,” all four people in the booth voiced. 

Derek portioned out the food. Two burgers each for Erica and Boyd. One burger and two baskets of fries to Stiles. Three burgers for Derek. The rest of the fries got pushed to the middle of the table.

“Stiles, which shake do you want first?” Derek turned to the unusually quiet teen.

“Why does he get to pick first? We are the ones whose homecoming you should be celebrating,” Erica protested. 

Derek bared his teeth at her. “Because I said so.”

Erica leaned into Boyd’s side, pouting. Derek knew he hurt the blonde’s feelings, but his wolf was pushing for him to provide and care for Stiles. It pained him to see him so skinny and closed off. He missed his sarcastic comments and bright amber eyes.

“Can I have the salted caramel one?”

Derek placed the glass next to Stiles’ burger.

“Dig in.”

They all tore into their food, Stiles less enthusiastic than the others. Derek knew that curly fries were his favorite food group, and he hardly ate them. The only thing that kept Derek from being uncomfortable was that he drank two shakes. Once Stiles had finished the salted caramel one, he grabbed the cheesecake one. 

“I think I’m going to need a to-go box,” Stiles said around the straw he was chewing on.

Any other day, Derek would be distracted by the way his pink lips wrapped around the straw, but Stiles' pale skin and hollow cheeks were a larger bother. 

Boyd caught Derek’s eyes from across the table and raised an eyebrow. He seemed to ask- Is he okay?

Derek gave a minuscule shake of his head. Boyd’s only response was to pour his extra basket of fries into Stiles’ box.

“So will this become a normal thing?” Erica slurped down the Snickers shake. 

“What do you mean?” Derek gave her a confused look.

“Pack dinners.” She waved her hand in a vague gesture around the table.

Derek gave them all a small smile. “Yeah. I’d like pack dinners to be a normal thing.” His wolf gave a happy bark that she immediately included Stiles in the pack, no question, no hesitation.

He remembered all the loud dinners he had with his family. Thalia made an effort to have the family eat together at least twice a week, and extended family together once every two months. 

His older brother Maverick had triplets. It was always a rowdy event when Derek’s nephews were at the table. Laura and Cora would argue about which latest teen heartthrob was the hottest. Dad would load the table with his latest try at a Food Network recipe. His mom would drag Peter out of his library or bribe him with his mate. Only Angelina brought out Peter’s good side. They were about to have their first child.

Derek got so much of his family killed. It didn’t matter how many times Stiles or any of the betas told him that Kate wasn’t his fault; the guilt sometimes crept up on him and ate at his gut.

He looked around the table. Yeah. This is my new family. (Plus Peter and Cora, who were waiting for them at home) I will do anything to keep them happy and protect them, he vowed.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3-

Would you take the wheel

If I lose control?

If I'm lyin' here

Will you take me home?

Stiles

Somehow, Derek convinced Stiles to get him and his dad to spend Christmas at the cabin. Now, he juggled two trays of cookies and a large casserole dish. 

Noah let out a low whistle when they pulled up the driveway to Derek’s so-called cabin. “I thought you said he lived in a log cabin in the woods?”

“I thought he did,” Stiles gaped up at the structure. 

It wasn’t so much a log cabin versus a wood and glass mansion. The entire exterior was made of bricks from multiple shades of brown and dark mahogany paneling. There was warm light emitting from the multiple windows that littered the walls. It was only two stories, but at least 6k square feet.

Before the Stilinskis could even knock, Peter strutted onto the porch.

“Merry Christmas, Creepy-Wolf,” Stiles greeted.

The elder wolf was in his typical thin V-neck shirt with blue jeans, even though it was forty degrees outside. “I’m pleased that you guys could make it. Is that stuffed cabbage I smell?”

“Yep. It’s my grandma’s golumpki. We also brought four dozen kolaczki cookies.” Stiles smiled. It had been a while since he made any recipes out of his mom’s family cookbook.

“So we have such a mix of food from different cultures between everyone's dishes, it's going to be quite a spread for Christmas.” Peter took a tray from Stiles’ arms and led them into the house.

The inside was just as glorious as the outside. Derek used dark wood with gold finishes, while the furniture was tones of grey with pops of red and white to add a touch of brightness.

Peter continued into the kitchen, and Stiles fell in love. Black cabinets with polished granite countertops. All the appliances were stainless steel, and Stiles knew he would make himself at home in this kitchen very soon. 

“So Derek made everyone cook?” Noah asked.

“No, everyone volunteered. After all the shit that went down the past few years, this is the first real family Christmas dinner any of us have had.” Peter placed the tray on the counter next to the absurd number of dishes.

Look at what you’ve caused. Ever since you made Scott look for Laura’s body with you, you've torn loves apart, Void hissed in Stiles’ mind. 

He clenched his eyes, gave his head a quick shake, and took a deep breath. Deep down, he knew the demon was gone, but that didn’t keep the voices away. Stiles didn’t want to ruin the mood by dropping into the place where he let his guilt blacken his emotions. Peter wasn’t blaming Stiles for anything. Stiles blamed himself for everything.

“Hey, Stiles, Sheriff,” Derek greeted as he entered the kitchen.

Seeing Derek relaxed and not covered in blood stirred something within Stiles. Derek Hale has always been attractive, Stiles wasn’t blind. But now, in the soft light coming through the windows, he was breathtaking. He wore a pale blue sweater with a pair of black joggers, feet in snowflake socks. The was stubble around the small smile on his face. Stiles could get used to seeing that smile.

“Merry Christmas, Sourwolf,” Stile smiled at him.

“Thanks for inviting us, son,” Noah said.

“Of course, a pack is supposed to be a family, not just a group of people who occasionally fight monsters together.”

“I didn’t know you thought of me and Stiles like that.” Noah sat at a barstool.

“Stiles has been in my pack since the very beginning.” Derek tried to peek into the cookie container, but Stiles stopped him with a slap on the wrist.

“And just how much time did you spend with my underage son in the last few years, Hale?” Noah raised an eyebrow.

Stiles blushed. “Dad!” He looked at Derek and saw that he was blushing and waving his hand in front of him frantically. 

“Nononono, it was never like that, sir. Stiles has just been the most loyal and protective of my betas. Even as a human, he had unbelievable courage and strength.”

Noah turned to look at Stiles. “When you told me about werewolves and Scott, you said you were never in any real danger. That you’d never been seriously hurt. Besides being possessed, you said that was the only reason for the nightmares.” His dad had a pained look in his eyes like he had failed to protect Stiles from so much hurt and torture.  

Stiles sighed. “Everything wasn’t my story to tell.” Erica, Boyd, and Cora walked in at that moment, and Stiles motioned at them. “A lot of what happened was traumatic for everyone, but I couldn’t expose them like that. I didn't know if they wanted others to know.”

Noah leveled every wolf in the room with a hard glare. “I want to know everything.” He looked at Stiles. 

“Dad,” Stiles practically whined. “That isn’t exactly Christmas dinner conversation.”

He hadn’t told his dad about when Peter kidnapped him and offered him the bite. Or Gerard in the basement with Erica and Boyd. Or the failed kanima coup at Jungle. Or when Scott tried to kill him on his first full moon- luckily, no one in the room knew that story, so he wouldn’t get exposed. So much more, like how he killed the entire police force with a pipe bomb. 

Stiles hated how his dad looked at him like he was fragile; he couldn't bear the idea of his dad being afraid and disgusted with him. 

Panic gnawed at his gut. Dinner was going to be awful.

“Well,” Peter clapped his hands together. “Everyone, grab some food so we can start storytime.”

It was a good thing Derek brought high-quality cutlery because everyone’s plates were heavy with Erica’s tamales, Cora’s farofa, Stiles’ dish, and Boyd’s greens. Derek had also made ham and stuffed chicken.

Stiles only took a small helping of each dish, knowing he wouldn’t be able to eat while they all talked about him. 

Stiles chewed on his lips as they all took their seats around the dining table. “So am I allowed to tell my side of the story?” he asked his dad.

“No. You hid this side of your life from me for over a year, then didn’t tell the whole story. I need to know the truth, no matter how much you think it will hurt or anger me.”

Stiles slid down in his seat and stabbed at his chicken, “Fine, but don't say I didn’t warn you.” Stiles and the rest of the pack had been through some heavy shit over the last few years. Plus, the more his dad knew about the supernatural, the more he would be in danger. Stiles couldn’t lose his dad.

Noah took a sip of his beer and turned to Peter. “I know enough to know that this all started with you, so spill.”

If his dad was phased by the stories spilling out of the pack’s mouths, he didn’t look like it. He went through four plates of food, not flinching once.

“So, let me get this all straight,” Noah paused and ate a cookie. “Kate Argent put Peter in a coma, but he woke up to be some sort of demon Alpha, killed Laura, turned Scott, and tried to turn Stiles and Lydia. In turn, Lydia became a banshee. But then Derek killed Peter, gained Alpha powers, and bit Jackson, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica. Jackson turned into a murder-puppet-lizard thing. Stiles saved all your asses multiple times from Jackson, even after Erica hit him over the head with his car battery. Gerard kidnapped and tortured Erica, Boyd, and Stiles. Stiles got them out. Jackson was saved, and Gerard was incapacitated. Then, a pack of Alphas and an evil witch tried to kill everyone, and Cora came back. Stiles saved Cora. Erica and Boyd almost died and hid.” He pauses again to dig into the sweet potato pie Boyd made. “Scott got his Alpha powers. Derek lost his. Me, Melissa, and Chris get kidnapped. The Alpha pack is defeated. The witch is defeated, but to do so, Stiles, Scott, and Allison had to sacrifice themselves to a tree. This sacrifice is what opened the door for Stiles to be possessed. The nogitsune brings chaos. Now, Allison is dead, and Scott is an asshole.”

Boyd chuckled, “I can see where Stiles gets his tendency to ramble from. You certainly know how to summarize, Sheriff.”

“Dad?” Stiles whispered. Throughout all of dinner, he had sat in silence. Multiple times, he had to count his fingers, then toes, the count to a hundred in his head to stop panic attacks. It wasn’t easy for him to hear about the torture. He was surprised to hear how grateful everyone was for him. He hadn’t even thought of all his actions as sacrificial. He just wanted to help his friends. 

“Stiles, I want to hug you. I also want to ground you for eternity and ban you from ever interacting with werewolves again. But I can see how much they mean to you, and vice versa.” He ran a hand down his face. “I’ll admit, hearing that my son has been tortured and beaten within an inch of his life multiple times wasn’t easy to hear as a father. But I also know that your mother would be super proud of you for being so fiercely loyal and protective of your friends. Even the ones you accuse of murder.”

Derek let out a bark of laughter. “Anything else you want to know?”

Noah took a deep breath and shook his head. “There are a lot of details I skipped over in my summary. And I still have a lot of questions, mainly about Scott. But I think that is enough heavy stuff for Christmas dinner.”

Stiles held in the urge to cry. He thought his dad would run for the hills after hearing everything that had happened in the last year. He thought his dad would call him pathetic, weak, and stupid for getting involved and getting people hurt. But he was proud. 

But he wasn’t going to lose his dad. He took in all the people eating dessert around him. He wasn’t going to lose anyone in his family. For the first time in weeks, the hole in his chest didn’t feel as big and deep.

~~~

Derek

The atmosphere of ease that permeated the living room warmed Derek’s chest. Even without his Alpha spark, all their bonds lit up, strong cords weaving in and out of everyone’s hearts, connecting them all.  They were all lounging around in food comas.

Derek had a fire going and saw Noah sitting in front of it, lost in thought. The beer next to his leg had gone warm, and Derek went to the kitchen a grabbed a fresh one. He knew the older man had just taken in a lot of new information. A lot of hard stuff a father never wants to hear about his child. 

When he requested all the information, he was sure the sheriff was going to kill him for getting Stiles caught up in so much danger. Instead, he just told Stiles he was proud of him for being there for the pack.

“Sir,” Derek greeted, holding out the new beer.

Noah jumped slightly but grabbed the bottle from Derek. “Thanks.”

Derek sat next to him, trying to see the images in the flames that haunted the older man.

“Thank you, Derek.” Noah turned and looked at the wolf.

“Huh?” Derek asked, confused. He’d already been thanked for the beer.

“Thank you for keeping my son alive. I know Stiles would say that it was him and Scott against the world. But it seems like you had the most sense in the worst situations. I don’t agree with you biting a bunch of teenagers, but it seems you saved them as well- Isaac from his father, Erica from her seizures, and Boyd from his broken home.”

“My wolf pulled me to the ones you'd take the bite the best.” Derek shrugged.

“Even Whittmore being a lizard?”

“No. That was a mistake. I bit him to spite Scott. They were always butting heads, and I wanted to get back at Scott for trusting an Argent.”

“Is there still a chance for him to be pack?

Derek shook his head. “He took a new alpha in London and cut off all contact with Beacon Hills. I offered to take him in, but after dying and coming back to life, he wanted a change. Plus, I think his birth parents might be in England.”

Noah nodded and sipped his beer. “You’ve carried a heavy burden over the last few years, son. I’m in the know now, and I’m here for you.” He glanced around at the now sleeping teenagers. “I’m here for all of you.”

The sob that escaped Derek’s mouth took him by surprise. It’s been a long time since he had a father figure in his life. Noah had only been a deputy when the fire happened. Derek remembered his kind hazel eyes as he wrapped Laura and him in blankets and wiped the ash from their skin. 

Derek sucked in a deep breath and got himself together. “I’m happy to have you in my family, sir.”

“You have been to my house frequently- even if it was without my knowledge- call me Noah.”

“Noah,” Derek echoed with a small nod. 

They both leaned against the bottom of the couch, just enjoying the warmth of the fire. 

At some point, Stiles and Erica wandered over, one holding two pies with a handful of forks and the latter carrying a mountain of pillows and blankets. Derek smiled, pushing the couch out of the way for the pallet to be set up. 

Soon, all seven of them were lying on the plush rug, surrounded by pillows. Derek tried not to think too far into Stiles’ thigh pressed against his on the left as the teen shared a pie with his dad. Cora had her head against Derek’s right shoulder. Erica was sprawled across Boyd’s lap on the other side of Noah. Peter sat at the far edge of the rug, feet barely brushing Derek’s. It was a tight but comfortable fit. 

The silence was interrupted by a loud snort from Stiles.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

“It's a puppy pile,” he giggled out, waving his hands at the tangle of limbs on the floor.

Derek groaned at the juvenile term. “We aren’t puppies, Stiles.”

“Well, not you, Big Guy. You’re more like Papa Wolf. But the betas are definitely like puppies.”

“This is how pack bonds grow stronger,” Cora voiced. “Wolves are tactile creatures. The better we know each other’s scents, heartbeats, and emotions, the closer we become. Mom used to have us all cuddle together at least once every two weeks. But she would have bitten you for calling us puppies.”

Stiles grinned. “The name is sticking. Bi-weekly Hale Puppy Piles.”

Now, everyone on the floor groaned. 

“I didn’t die and come back to life to be called a puppy.” Peter leveled a look at Stiles.

“Granted, no one wanted you to come back, Zombie Wolf.” Stiles wagged a finger at him.

Peter opened his mouth to argue back, but Derek tossed a pillow at his face. He knew that if Stiles and Peter started going back and forth, it’d be endless. 

Peter raised his hands in surrender. “Thalia would be proud of the pack you’ve built, nephew.” 

“I second that.” Cora squeezes Derek’s hand.

Love pours in from all their bonds, making Derek’s heart stutter in his chest. It was a far cry from the tearing and hollowness he felt in his chest all those years ago. 

They all brought important qualities to the pack. Noah brought stability and parental guidance. Peter brought power and carried the knowledge from Hales who had passed. Cora was a born wolf, which brought balance to all of Derek’s young betas. Boyd may be a quiet soul, but they all relied on his strength and steady presence. Derek never knew what to expect when it came to Erica, but he knew he could count on her to love and fight for the pack with all her heart. 

Then Derek glanced down at Stiles. He had slumped into his dad’s side, a forgotten fork in a loose grip in his hand. The bond that connected their hearts was pulsing between the colors of gold and red. Gold, for the normal beta connection they share. And red, for the connection Derek wasn’t ready to deal with. A connection he didn’t even realize was growing until he held Stiles through his nightmare three days ago. 

Derek knew he didn’t start off as the best Alpha. He shouldn’t have bitten them when he was fighting the Argents, the kanima, and trying to control Scott. During that chaotic time, he’d probably gone to Stiles for help just as much as he threatened to bite the sarcastic teen’s throat out with his teeth. 

Yet, somehow in the midst of everything, Derek’s wolf picked Stiles. So, hopefully, one day, Stiles would bring the most important aspect to the pack. He’d be Derek’s partner. He would be the center of love and care for the pack. Stiles had already proved his undying loyalty and protectiveness for everyone around him, even when they truly didn’t deserve it. He’d help Derek lead and just be a pillar of support for all.

Right now, in front of the fire, Derek was content with Stiles just being happy. Derek watched Stiles teeter on the edge of a panic attack all of dinner. It took a lot of begging to even convince Stiles that he was wanted at the pack’s Christmas dinner. Then, more convincing that he didn’t have to buy anyone a gift. Derek purposely made it a present-free Christmas, focused on just bringing his pack closed together. 

Christmas went well, even with the dark topics discussed over dinner. 

No one noticed the few tears that rolled down Derek’s face. His heart craved a home, a pack, a family- and, just maybe, he was finally getting the one he was worthy of.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4-

Could you take care

Of a broken soul?

Will you hold me now?

Oh, will you take me home?

Stiles

Why the hell is it so warm in here? Stiles shifted, feeling a lump of another body under him. Right, puppy pile. 

Just as he sat up, an arm wrapped around his middle, pulling him back onto the carpet. Stiles would have happily stayed in Derek’s arms any other day, but his shirt was starting to stick to his back, and he had to pee.

“Let me go.” Stiles pushed Derek’s arm. “Unless you want me to pee all over you’re new carpet, let me up, Der.” Derek’s arm flew off Stiles.

By the time Stiles finished in the restroom, he knew there was zero chance of him falling back asleep. 

The grandiosity of the cabin’s kitchen was calling his name. It’d take him around an hour and a half to cook enough breakfast for everyone. If they see me as useful, even with a task as simple as cooking, it’d keep me from getting kicked out of another pack. Stiles’ thoughts were loud as he gathered all the things necessary for waffles and omelets. He wanted to do more, be more, but Stiles was all skin, bones, and human- not helpful at all. 

“Waffle iron, waffle iron, waffle iron,” he muttered to himself, rummaging through the cabinets. “Did Derek just buy the entire home appliance catalog? Jesus.” There was brand-new equipment everywhere. Stiles didn’t even know what some of the stuff did. “Ha! Waffle iron.”

During his search, he had found the mixing stand and a large skillet, so it was easy to get into a groove. First, he mixed the eggs with some chopped bell peppers, onions, spinach, and cheese. Then the waffle batter was made extra fluffy with whipped egg whites and a splash of vanilla. 

Turning his mind off was easy as he cooked, all the repetitive movements made it easy to ignore the constant whispering in his head. The buzzing never truly stopped. The rustle of gauze, the singing sound of katana metal, his own voice begging Chris Argent to shoot him- in front of Derek and his Dad. 

Most of the time, when he was locked in his mind- sometimes in the cellar under the nemeton, or sitting in the ice tub in Deaton’s office, or in that endless white room- and he watched the nogitsune spill blood, watched all his friends look at him with hurt and betrayal in their eyes. 

Even now, the dark look in Scott’s eyes every time he looked at Stiles cut right into his soul. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the Hales to kick him out for being a murderer. 

“Oh my god, Batman. If I can wake up to breakfast every morning, I’m never letting you go,” Erica rasped from the entryway. Her hair was frizzed in all directions, and she was rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

Stiles shrugged, rolling the tenth omelet into the growing pile. “It’s nothing. I used to cook for me and Dad all the time. It’s nice to be able to do it again.” He tried not to focus on the reason he stopped cooking- when his entire life went to shit over his morbid curiosity about a dead body in the woods. 

She walked over to the waffle iron and leaned against the counter. “No, this is great. Derek only fed us scraps he stole from restaurants when we stayed at the train depot.”

Stiles choked on air. “Please tell me you’re joking?”

“Just a little. It was full meals, not just scraps. But always takeout.” She tried to grab a waffle from the stack, but Stiles smacked her hand away.

“Go wake everyone else up. I’m almost done.” Stiles waved her away.

Erica plodded off, back to the pile of bodies in the living room. 

Stiles heard moaning, groaning, and the shifting of bodies. Soon, multiple bed-headed people meandered into the kitchen with mumbled good mornings. Derek started the coffee pot and grabbed the milk and juice from the fridge. Peter made quick work of slicing some fruit- apples, pineapples, and pears. Cora grabbed the plates, Boyd the glasses, and Erica the silverware. They wordlessly began setting the long wooden slab dining table. 

For so long, it had just been Stiles and his dad, then Scott and Melissa. His mom never really talked about her side of the family. And the only extended family on his dad’s side was his grandpa, who only got angrier with age. Being surrounded by so many people, a big family, Stiles felt a piece of his life snap into place, filling a hole he didn’t even know was there.

Stiles carried the large plates of food and set them in the middle of the table. It was a decent spread of food. Derek sat at the head of the table at the wall of windows, Stiles to his left, Boyd to his right, and Erica next to him. Noah took the other end of the table, and everyone else filled in the gaps. 

(Stiles didn’t know this at the moment, but his actions spoke loudly to his position in the pack.)

“All right,” he clapped his hands together. “Dig in.”

Noah reached out to scoop some food onto his plate but paused when no one else moved. 

“Why aren’t you guys eating?” Stiles fidgeted with his hands. Oh god, they must think I’m going to poison them.

“They’re waiting on me,” Derek voiced up. “Traditionally, the alpha of the pack eats first.”

“Oh!” Stiles didn’t know the Hale pack followed strict hierarchy rules, but went along with it, reaching for the serving utensils. Soon, Derek’s plate was full of two omelets, a stack of four waffles, and a nice heap of pears. 

Stiles fought the urge to bite his nails, waiting for Derek to take the first forkful. All the wolf eyes around the table stared at him, yet Stiles was too focused on Derek to even notice. 

“Thanks, Stiles.” Derek gave him a soft smile. 

The tension in the air broke when Derek groaned around his fork. Soon, the whole table was putting as much food as possible on their plates, voicing mumbles of thanks to Stiles, and telling him how delicious it was. 

He was still full from the night before- he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten so much food- so he nibbled on half an omelet and some fruit. It was an easier meal than dinner since all his trauma wasn’t being laid bare. 

“I have the afternoon shift today,” Noah spoke up while washing dishes. “Are you coming home with me or are you going to hang around here?”

Stiles paused the drying of the plate in his hand. This was the first time in weeks that Stiles wasn’t wallowing in his room. The first time he smiled. The first time he could say “I'm fine” and actually mean it. His house would be empty without his dad, and Stiles was sick of being alone.

“I think I want to stay here if that’s okay?” He looked at both his dad and Derek.

“Son, I literally just asked you if you wanted to stay. I’d honestly want you here rather than alone in the house.” Noah patted him on the shoulder.

“I want you here, too,” Derek voiced from his stool at the raised bar that went around the kitchen. “I built this house with the idea that, eventually, the entire pack would live here. So you, both of you-” he looked at Noah “- are always welcome here.”

“Thanks, Sourwolf,” Stiles grinned.

~~~

Derek

The next few days were easygoing. The betas lounged around the house. Peter gathered things from the vault and his old apartment to furnish the office. Stiles came and went sporadically after Christmas. 

Derek tried to make it seem like he wasn’t watching the teen, scenting the air around him for any unhappiness, making sure he was as comfortable as possible. According to the other wolves in the house, he failed spectacularly 

Peter had thrown an ice cube at his head when he was watching Stiles eat. In just a few days after the holiday, Stiles had gained some color back in his cheeks and could eat a little more with each meal.

Cora may or may not have caught him sleeping on the same pillow Stiles used from the guest room. 

Since Erica had keen observations, she picked up on every time Derek tensed up, especially when Stiles would flinch or someone would scent mark him too close to his neck. She made it a game. 

Derek would race to Stiles’ side anytime he sensed an ounce of panic coming from him. Erica started getting to him first, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, her hand getting a tad too close to the skin of his neck, right below his jaw.

Stiles got confused every time anyone in the room would laugh at the low growling that would come from Derek.

With everyone around, the cabin began to finally feel like home. The bonds grew stronger, the air felt lighter, and Derek felt like the Alpha that his mom and Laura would have wanted him to be.

Knock Knock

Stiles poked his head around the office door. “You busy?”

“No.” He set the old book of treaties to the side. He planned on reaching out to surrounding packs, reestablishing Hale's connections, and making sure his territory was safe. The soft scent of happiness that Stiles had been emitting had gone sour, something had changed.

“Why are you taking care of me?” Stiles wrung his hand so tightly Derek could hear the bones grinding against each other. 

“I make sure that my pack, my family, is taken care of.” 

“I don’t deserve it,” Stiles whispered. “I’ve killed people. I’ve caused so much pain. I was weak enough to let myself be possessed, and now, with all the nightmares and trauma, I can’t fight. I’ve been trying to fool myself that you guys ended me over the past few days. That I can at least cook and clean for you guys, but you don’t need a human loitering around and making you guys vulnerable. I'm sorry to have been a bother the last few days. I just wanted to let you know I won’t be around for the New Year.”

The alpha sat speechless as the teen launched himself into a self-deprecating rant. It wasn’t hard to see where Stiles was coming from. He’d been abandoned, instead of consoled during one of the hardest parts of his life. The one person he considered his best friend called him a murderer to his face, and then a pack of wolves who had fought against him for a short period of time, all of a sudden brought him in; most people would have doubts.

“Come here.” Derek pushed his chair away from the desk, beckoning Stiles over.

Stiles shook his head and wrapped his arms around his middle. “I need to go.”

“No.” His eyes were blue now. “You belong here, with this pack, with me. Now come here.” There was a layer of command in his voice. The last thing Derek wanted was for his mate to feel unworthy of love. 

Light, hesitant footsteps sounded as Stiles made his way around the desk. He yelped when Derek grabbed him by the waist and hauled him into his lap.

Derek rested his head on Stiles’ collarbone and took a deep breath. Under the acrid scent of guilt, there was the smell that uniquely Stiles- vanilla, cinnamon, and fresh rain. 

“Listen to me very carefully, little one.” The wolf’s voice was gruff with suppressed growls. “You are more important to me and this pack than you’ll ever know. You center us all to our humanity. You show us what it means to truly be strong and overcome the darkest obstacles.”

Stiles trembled and fought against Derek’s hold. “It’s not real. I keep waiting for the dream to end. Eventually, I’m going to wake up alone and in the dark.”

Derek could smell the salt in the air from his tears, and he lifted his head to meet Stiles’ red-rimmed eyes. “This is real.” He moved one hand from Stiles’ hip to hold the back of his neck gently. “I promise, everything you have seen and felt over the last few days has been real. The people in the pack care for you. I care for you,” he punctuated his words by tightening his hold on Stiles’ neck.

“This is real?” His voice was so soft that Derek barely heard it.

Leaning in so the forehead touched, Derek made sure his voice was strong, “Yes, Stiles. This is real.”

He wanted to say more. If he could, he’d howl at the moon about how much he loved Stiles. But it wasn’t time to announce his feelings yet. The only thing Derek did was hold his mate to his chest.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Hold the gun to my head

Count 1, 2, 3

If it helps me walk away, then it's

What I need

Stiles

The pages along the edge of the books fluttered as Stiles ran his thumb across the pages. It was a book on Polish mythical creatures that Peter had gifted him for Christmas. A simple gift, yet it meant the world to Stiles. He knew both of his parents had Polish ancestry, but he was never really connected to it. The closest he got was his paternal grandparents. The book was in Polish, so Stiles would have to spend weeks translating it to read it properly. 

His dad had gotten him new running shoes and a red Iron Man hoodie. Derek’s gift was surprising. Somehow, Derek had gotten hold of pictures from his parents' wedding, and one of the photos was painted into a portrait, but the painter had included Stiles from the present, in a suit between his parents. Both he and his Dad cried a little and thanked Derek profoundly when he unwrapped the frame.

Stiles had begun to forget what his mom’s face looked like when she smiled. The most recent memories he had of her were when she was sick with empty eyes and drool coming out of her mouth. She’d have coherent moments, but they were filled with anger and confusion. She’d flail and curse at Stiles, calling him a demon that possessed her true son. 

“I guess she was right about something,” Stiles chucked at his dark thought. He continued to clean his room. Books were recategorized on the shelf, schoolwork was organized and put in the proper folders, and clothes were hung up or placed in a basket for laundry. The window was opened to let fresh air in.

He was trying. Trying to fight the urge to wallow and hide again. Stiles was reassured by Derek, his Dad, and the betas that he was wanted and that it was okay to not be okay. But it was so hard, dear god, it was so hard. 

In the moments where Stiles felt more shadow than sunlight, he’d drive out to the pack’s cabin. After being turned away by Scott, Lydia, and any other old friends, it was refreshing to know that he’d always be welcome with open arms.

After Stiles got done with his room, he made the now familiar drive out to the preserve. Derek opened the door before Stiles could get all the way out of the jeep. 

“‘Sup, Der,” Stiles greeted.

“Little One.” Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders, guiding him into the house. 

Stiles blushed every time Derek used his new nickname for him. It felt intimate. He wished he didn’t like it. From anyone else, he’d think they were taking a jab at Stiles’ skinny stature or his weakness as a human. But from Derek, there was a warmth and care in his voice. 

Plus, he felt small when Derek would tuck him into his arms and hold their bodies close together. Stiles was less than an inch shorter than the wolf, but Derek's muscles made Stiles feel small in his arms. He was starting to like the feeling of being held by Derek. He felt protected and loved. 

“Sti!” Erica bounced on her toes at the bottom of the stairs. “Cora and I were about to go shopping for next semester, do you wanna join?”

He might have imagined it, but he swore Derek tightened his hold on Stiles. “Would Boyd be coming?” He didn’t want to be the only guy.

“Nope,” she popped the word. “It’s a girls’ trip.”

“I’m not a girl, Erica.” 

“Yeah, I know. But I’ve wanted to dress you up for ages.” She clasped her hands in front of her and begged, “Please, please, please. Derek will even give us his credit card if you come.”

Stiles didn’t want to admit that he needed more clothes. Between all the claws, dirt, and blood- he’d thrown out a lot of stuff over the last year. 

“You don’t have to pay for my stuff.” He looked at Derek.

He shrugged. “It’d be nice to spend money on the pack. Lord knows I have enough to share.” He pulled a thick, shiny gold card from his wallet and threw it at Erica. “Go wild, just bring Stiles home in one piece, please.”

“Yes!” Erica pumped her fist in the air. “Cora, let’s go,” She called up the stairs.

The brunette wolf leaped over the second-story railing, landing lightly in front of Stiles. “I heard we’re about to give you a makeover.”

Stiles waved his hands frantically in front of him. “No, no, no. I just need jeans, some button-ups, and some t-shirts. Nothing crazy.”

Fear grew in his stomach at the smirks Erica and Cora shared. He just knew his words would be ignored. 

“Is it too late to stay here with you?” he asked Derek as the girls dragged him out the door.

He nodded with a small smile. “Unfortunately. Have fun.” He wiggled his fingers in a teasing manner, then closed the door on Stiles’ face.

They climbed into a mid-size SUV Derek had brought for the teens to share. It was a wild ride to the mall. Erica drove while singing Taylor Swift at the top of her lungs. Cora spoke aloud, making a list of all the stores they needed to stop at. Stiles just prayed that his dad didn’t pull them over.

As they parked, Stiles announced, “I’m driving us home. I have no clue how you got a driver’s license.”

“Oh. I never officially got one. Peter got us all new documents when we were in Brazil. I got some practice on mountain back roads down there,” Erica spoke casually.

Stiles just gaped at her. “One, you could have killed me. Two, Derek told you to bring me home in one piece- you’ll never do that driving all crazy like.”

“So, what you're saying is that you think of the cabin as home and you want to go home to be with my brother?” Cora smiled knowingly at Stiles. It was creepy how much she looked like Peter at the moment. 

“I-um, just… I’d rather not die in a horrible car crash, thank you very much.” He ignored the giggling wolves and walked towards the entrance to the mall.

They caught up with him easily, each one looping their elbows through his.

“Don’t worry, Stiles, we’ll make sure that Derek won’t be able to take his eyes off you next year,” Erica grinned

“I’m not worried about what Derek thinks of me,” He lied.

“I don’t even need to be a werewolf to know that you’re lying,” Cora scoffed. “You blush whenever he walks into the room.”

“I do not!” he squeaked, then cleared his throat. “You guys just keep the cabin warm.”

The girls just rolled their eyes and guided Stiles into Hollister. “These jeans will fit your thin hips the best.” They argued when he said he’d be just fine with jeans from Ross or Old Navy.

Stiles lost count after the eighth store. They brought him various pairs of jeans, much nicer and more in style than the plain straight-leg style he normally wears, in two sizes too big. They forbade him from buying any flannels because, and quote, “You’re not a lumberjack, Stiles.” Soft high-grade cotton shirts, satin shirts he’d never looked twice at before, button-ups that hugged his arms in a way he wasn’t used to. 

“Trust us, you look good. You need to show those assholes at school that you’re better without them,” Erica encouraged when he doubted the clothes.

Between Cora and Erica, they must have brought over ten pairs of shoes and at least twenty outfits. Stiles was exhausted, but having a surprisingly good time. He didn’t know the last time he just took some time to do something nice for himself.

“Thank you.” He hugged each girl after they loaded all the bags into the trunk. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to get out.”

“We take care of each other in the Hale Pack. Plus, retail therapy makes everyone happier.” Erica smiled at him.

“I think I’m going to have a good New Year.” There was a new sense of optimism within Stiles’ heart.

He turned to get into the car and came face to face with the cold steel of Chris Argent’s pistol. The hunter had somehow sneaked up on the group, apparently still following Stile’s every move.

Chris looked feral with bloodshot eyes, his pupils dilated to the point there was no color in his irises, and an untamed beard on his face. “You think you deserve to make it to New Year? Because of your Alpha, my father and my wife are dead.” His body was trembling, tears falling from his eyes, but the gun stayed steady on Stiles. “And because of you, Allison is gone. She deserved to live more than you and your mutts.”

A deep howl rang through the air. 

“Chris…” Stiles held his hands up in surrender. He gave a quick shake of his head to the growling betas, telling them to stand down. “Nothing I say will ease the pain of your grief. I can go on and on about how sorry I am and how I will always hold guilt in my heart over Allison’s death-”

“ Don’t say her name!” He pressed the gun further into Stiles’ skin. “Scott told me that Derek’s pack was back in town. I reassured him that I’d make sure they wouldn’t be a danger to him. You,” he paused and ground his teeth together. “You, Mr. Stilinski, are a danger to everyone. I won’t let the Hales use you or your demonic powers to kill any more people.”

Stiles had lived this moment a million times in his head since Allison’s funeral. He never fought dying by Argent’s hand. It was a more than appropriate way to go. If he hadn’t dragged Scott into the woods, Peter would have never bitten him. Kate wouldn’t have come to town. Derek wouldn’t be an alpha, which means the Alpha Pack would have never come into town, so the Darach would have never been drawn to Beacon Hills, and Stiles would never have needed to make the sacrifice that allowed him to be possessed in the first place.

“If you are going to kill me, Argent, don’t do it here,” Stiles tried to reason. Derek didn’t need to find his dead body.

The click of Chris pulling back the hammer on the gun echoed across the parking lot. 

Stiles took a deep breath. “ At least it would be an end to the never-ending fight against the darkness,” was his final thought.

~~~

Derek

Derek wasn't sitting on the couch waiting for Stiles, Cora, and Erica to come home. He was just enjoying the comfort of the living room. At least, that is what he told Peter when his Uncle raised on knowing eyebrow at him earlier in the afternoon. 

It was honestly a calm afternoon until he felt a burning sensation radiating from the bonds in his chest. Derek was out the door in seconds, howling into the air. Peter and Boyd immediately fell in step with him, sprinting through the preserve. He prayed his family would hear his cry. Whatever was happening, he was coming for them.

Derek focused on what feelings were surging through the bonds- Erica and Cora were projecting panic and unbridled anger. It was what Derek was sensing from Stiles that had him almost tripping over his two feet.

Guilt. Fear. Sadness. And this deep-seated acceptance, like whatever he was facing, he was okay with it. That was what terrified Derek the most.

The difference in emotions coming from his pack members was jarring. Derek could tell that Erica and Cora wanted to protect Stiles, but Stiles was okay with the situation. Leaves crunched under Derek’s feet as he urged himself to move faster toward the part of the woods that came up to the mall. 

Please be safe, he prayed to himself. And if his mate, sister, and beta weren’t safe… Derek would paint the street red, and there wouldn’t be a hint of blue in his eyes.

The trees finally thinned along the edge of the parking lot, and Derek scented out Stiles. They were near the back of the lot, standing in a semicircle around the back of the car.

Glinting in the sun, Derek saw the silver of Chris Argent’s gun on Stiles’ forehead. Less than three seconds passed before Derek felt his claws insert themselves into the hunter’s neck. He didn’t kill him, no matter how easy it would have been.

“Lower your weapon,” Derek’s words were hardly above a whisper. Every muscle in his body was tensed, ready for any reason to strike.

Chris held his breath, debating just for a moment. “Your Alpha won’t always be here to protect you, Demon,” he spat at Stiles and lowered the gun to his side.

Derek didn’t remove his hand. “You make sure to listen to me carefully, Argent. If you come near Stiles or any of my pack again, I’ll kill you. It won’t be the quick death I gave your sister. No, it’ll be slow, and every scream I pull from your mouth will be music to my ears.” Derek shoved the worthless man aside with a snarl. 

All the wolves formed a shield around Stiles, claws out if Chris tried to attack again. They waited until his truck screeched out of the lot on disappeared down the street.

Peter clapped slowly. “Nephew, I didn’t know you had it in you to be so menacing. Kudos.”

Derek curled his lips at his uncle's failed attempt at humor. “Get in the car, let’s get home,” his tone was clipped.

His wolf still wanted blood, even though no one was harmed. Wrath made his hands shake and gums itch, wanting so badly to get revenge. The image of Stiles standing so still at the end of a gun will haunt him forever.

They were the last two outside the car, and Derek pulled his mate into his arms. “I never want to see you accept death. I don’t care what you believe you deserve. I can’t lose you, too, Stiles, ” he emphasized the last sentence.

Stiles nodded into Derek’s chest.

He wanted answers. The ride home was silent. Derek ran over his plan in his head. It was almost New Year, and he swore to himself and the Hale blood that ran through the ley lines of Beacon Hills, he’d keep his territory away from McCall and his psychotic pack.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Every minute gets easier

The more you talk to me

You rationalize my darkest thoughts

Yeah you, set them free

Derek

Even without red eyes, Derek was as close to an Alpha as possible over the next few days. The pack had been calling him their Alpha since they all got back to Beacon Hills, and still submitted to him. He was their leader through and through.

He had them training for at least five hours every day, knowing that the threat of Scott and Chris loomed over their heads. They ran two miles through the preserve before sparring in the backyard. 

Boyd launched Peter over his head, the elder wolf landing on his back.

“Good,” Derek barked. “Stiles, get your bat. You’re with me.”

“Haha, very funny, Derek.” Stiles didn’t move from where he leaned against a tree. 

Derek simply crossed his arms and waited. And if his wolf puffed out its chest at the flush that rose up Stiles’ neck and face when then, that’s his business. 

“You’re serious?” Stiles looked uneasy.

“Unless you want to be the reason everyone has to run another two miles, then yes. You may not have to practice control, but you do have to know how to defend yourself. So get the bat that is hidden under the backseat in your jeep, and try to hit me with it.”

Stiles wrung his hands together. “That bat is made of mountain ash wood and polished with mistletoe-laced stain. Do you really want me to hit you with it?”

Derek flinched at the idea. “I have a plain bat, give me a second to go get it.” He jogged back to the house and into the garage. The collection of weapons in there had only just begun to grow. It was Peter and Noah’s idea. Steele and wooden bats, guns, bow staffs, and throwing knives decorated the back wall. 

Stiles had a habit of coming in there and just staring at the wall late at night after waking up from the nightmares that returned with full force, much to Derek’s heartbreak. 

“Alright, you ready?” Derek tossed a wooden bat at stiles, who caught it mid-air.

He shrugged. “I guess.” 

Derek waited for the teen to spread and plant his feet, raising the bat to his shoulder. Then he lunged. The crack of the bat against the side of Derek’s head echoed across the grass. He hadn’t even noticed Stiles flinch or tense up to swing. 

Derek’s shoulder popped out of place as he slammed into the ground, dazed.

Whoops of shock and whistles sound from the rest of the pack.

“I didn’t know you could move that fast, Stilinski,” Peter’s voice sounded far away in Derek’s ears.

The original plan had been to test Stiles’ strength and reflexes, not get concussed from his first swing. Derek rolled onto his back, dizziness fading as his healing finally started to kick in. 

A hand came into his field of vision and hauled him to his feet.

“Well,” Stiles clapped his hands together and rocked on his heels. “Aren’t you happy I didn’t use my personal bat?”

The shock of the hit was finally wearing off, and Derek felt pride grow in his chest and tried to hold the feeling back from shooting down the bond to Stiles. “Where did you learn to move like that?” He found his voice.

“Despite my tendency to trip over my own feet, I did manage to make the varsity lacrosse team. I rode the bench, but I still did all the drills at practice.” Stiles twirled the bat in his hand. 

Derek’s mind flashed back to when Stiles held him up in the pool- it took real strength, outside of adrenaline, to tread water, holding onto dead weight for hours. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about Stiles’ human fragility that much. 

“Alright then, whoever can disarm Stiles gets to pick what we eat for dinner,” Derek challenged them. 

Erica threw herself at Stiles, not giving him a chance to place his feet. He yelped and pivoted on his feet, Erica missing him by an inch. In the next attack, she tried to grab his shoulders. Derek thought for a second that she'd caught him because he didn’t move to swing, but then Stiles dropped to a crouch, so Erica sailed right over him. 

The crunch of her wrist landing wrong on the ground told Derek she was out. “Erica’s done. Go for it, Boyd.”

Boyd fought more level-headed than his girlfriend. Where she was fast, agile, and always on the offensive, he preferred to be patient, letting his opponent tire out before striking. 

Stiles stood firm while Boyd circled him. The bat hung by his legs in a loose grip. It looked nonchalant,  but Derek watched Stiles track every step Boyd took. 

“One of you needs to make a move,” Cora heckled. 

A whooshing sound came from the bat as Stiles turned in a half circle with a backhanded swing at Boyd’s head. The hit missed as Boyd stepped back out of range. Stiles’ attack didn’t stop, feigning another hit to Boyd’s head and then ramming the butt of the bat into Boyd’s stomach. 

A choking sound was all Boyd could produce, so he held one hand up in surrender, and the other gripped his abdomen. 

Peter didn’t need Derek to call his name. He managed to tackle Stiles, but not disarm him. They tumbled around in the grass a little before Stiles got the upper hand with a well-placed elbow to the jaw. He wiggled out of Peter’s arms and straddled his back. Stiles hooked the bat under Peter's neck, locking him in a chokehold. 

Derek counted to forty-five before Peter tapped out. 

“I yield.” Cora backed out before she even fought. “Why would I fight someone who just easily beat two former Alphas?”

Derek chuckled. “Good job, everyone. Go wash up and rest.”

He acted calm, but he wanted to howl at the sky. His mate was strong. Stiles looked so good while fighting. The black long-sleeve thermal he wore showed off his lithe muscles, and a mix of sweat, the forest, and the natural vanilla scent that oozed from Stiles made Derek’s mouth water. 

“Fucking hell, I’m down bad,” He chided himself and followed into the house. 

It wasn’t until after dinner, and they were all watching movies, that his smile fell from his face. 

Fireworks were lighting up the sky across Beacon Hill County. It was New Year’s Eve. 

Scott’s challenge for the territory was tomorrow. 

As if Stiles felt his mood shift, he shifted from where he was leaning against the couch on the floor at Derek’s feet and squeezed his ankle. The touch grounded Derek and his wolf. He was sick of being driven away from his family’s home. He’d beat Scott tomorrow- for himself, for the human who was still so hurt, but healing, and for his family, whose blood and ashes nurtured the soil of the preserve. 

~~~

Stiles

It was the first time in ages that Stiles felt invigorated by the New Year. He had a pack that wanted, an Alpha that took time to comfort and help out of panic attacks, and no supernatural threat looming over his head. 

Well, besides Scott’s challenge for the territory, which Stiles felt was stupid and unnecessary. Scott was only a wolf because of a Hale, yet he couldn’t grasp it in his thick skull that the land belonged to Derek. The whole situation had Derek stressed. He had them training nonstop, increased patrols, and installed new alarms in the house. 

Stiles went along with it all and made sure the betas didn’t gripe or complain too much. He felt confident in whatever would happen. It was rare that Stiles didn't get scared that something traumatic was going to happen when he knew a big fight was coming up. But Scott was too egotistical to have any strategy and no real fight training as a wolf. And his pack feared him- they didn’t obey out of respect. 

Stiles saw at school, the last few days he actually went, Scott barely controlling himself. He heard lacrosse players complain about injuries from McCall hitting too hard at practice, teachers get on him about his grades, and he watched Isaac flinch like Scott was going to hit him.

Stiles couldn’t wait for Derek to put Scott on his ass.

“Hey, little one.” Derek entered the kitchen where Stiles was staring out a window. “Why are you up so early?”

“Taking the new year by the horns.” Stiles sipped his coffee, smiling.

“No nightmares?” He fixed his own cup of coffee.

“Nope. Stop being such a worry-wolf.” Stiles was joking, kind of. Every time Derek called him “little one” or asked him how he slept, Stiles’ heart raced a little bit, and he fell for the older man more. He was beyond trying to convince himself that it was just a crush. 

Whatever Derek was going to say next, he was cut off by the ear-splitting roar of Scott’s howl. Stiles winced, mug shattering on the ground so he could cover his ears. 

He watched as Derek’s skin paled, eyes glowed, and claws popped out. Everyone came and stood at the window with Stiles, scrutinizing the tree line. 

“I count eight heartbeats,” Peter voiced. 

“Three humans, five weres.” Boyd assessed. 

Stiles pursed in lips. If he guessed correctly, those numbers meant that Scott had made a new beta for his pack. Such a hypocrite, after the griping and complaining he did about getting the bite. 

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice was clipped. “Do you know any information about Scott’s pack?”

“Um, Deaton is his cryptic informant. Isaac is his second. Scott and Kira are dating. I was Malia’s anchor at one point, but she trusted Scott more. Lydia, I don’t know why she has stuck around Scott, but she’s there. I don’t know who the other two are.” Stiles tried to ignore the hurt look that flashed across Derek’s face when he mentioned Malia. 

Losing his virginity to a girl who spent half her life as a coyote wasn’t his best shining moment. It was also in that basement he opened the door all the way for the nogitusne to control him. He fucking hated Eichen House.

After five tense minutes, the McCall pack finally broke the tree line.

“Come on out, Derek. It’s time you surrendered.” Scott’s voice rang clear in the morning air. 

Derek moved to walk out the door.

“Wait,” Stiles whispered and grabbed Derek’s wrist. They moved to the far side of the living room, away from the others in the kitchen. Stiles looked Derek in his eyes. “Listen to me. There is not a single person more worthy to win this challenge than you. Even with blue eyes, you have proven yourself to be the most caring and strong leader. You have a group of people around you who love, admire, and respect you. It is your blood and sacrifice that run through the land. You are going to win this challenge. This is your home. I believe in you.”

Derek shocked him by pulling Stiles into a tight hug. He felt Derek’s stubble rub against the skin on his collarbone as he tucked his head into Stiles’ neck. 

Stiles wondered if the vibrations he felt between them were from his racing heart or a rumble from Derek’s chest. 

“For you, Stiles, I promise to win.” Derek kissed the place right under Stiles’ jaw and strutted out of the door. 

Stiles froze. The faint heat left by Derek’s lips on his skin sent shivers down his skin. And he craved to feel those lips on his… and everywhere else on his body. Stile lightly slapped his cheeks and focused. Derek had a fight to win.

The rest of the Hale crew followed, fanning out at their leader’s side. The air seemed to hold its breath, the trees stood at attention, like the land knew what was about to happen.

Stiles tilted his head, trying to figure out who the new members of Scott’s pack were. The was a shorter black boy and a blonde, fluffy-haired kid, whose eyes were already beta-yellow. Stiles recognized the latter, he tried out for the spring season of lacrosse. He was only a sophomore, barely older than Scott and Stiles were when they got dragged into the supernatural world. 

How could Scott be so stupid and careless? He dragged another innocent into a world where he could die! And for what… cool superpower? Siles was fuming as his thoughts swirled in his head. 

“What are you doing here? This is private property,” Derek said casually, crossing his arms.

Stiles barely contained a snort. It was verbatim the first thing Derek said to them in the woods after Scott got bitten.

Deaton stepped forward. “As the emissary of the McCall pack, I am here to negotiate the surrender and submission of the so-called Hale pack. You all have no Alpha, so you have no right to claim this land. If you all accept True Alpha Scott McCall as your leader, you won’t be banished from the territory.”

Nonchalantly, Derek stretched out his arms, like he hadn’t been stressing over this challenge for days. He cracked his neck, popped his knuckles, and leveled Deaton with a blank glare. “I, Derek Hale, challenge Alpha McCall for the territory of Beacon Hills. If I win, I am open to taking in those who want to join the Hale pack. I will not punish or seek out those who decide not to join. Does your Aplah accept my challenge?”

Deaton opened his mouth, then closed it and looked at Scott.

“I accept the challenge.” Scott bared his fangs and let his eyes turn red. 

The two packs spread into a circle around the front yard. Stile stood between Cora and Peter. Boyd and Cora were on either side of them.  From Cora, it went to Malia, Lydia, Isaac, Deaton, the blonde beta, Kira, and the black kid. Stiles took in everyone’s body language. 

The only ones from Scott’s pack who looked confident were the new beta and Deaton. The others were eyeing Derek. 

On the other hand, Stiles knew he and his pack weren’t worried. It helped a lot that Derek was oozing ease and confidence. 

The Hale leader was still in his pajamas from the night before. Somehow, to Stiles, he still managed to look attractive and intimidating in a black cotton shirt and plain blue sleep pants. Granted, the shirt hugged his biceps just right, and the pants hung low on his hips, just showing a sliver of skin. 

Good lord, I hope this fight ends fast, Stiles prayed. 

“The fight will end when one wolf submits,” Deaton announced. “Begin.”

Scott made the first move, his claws aiming right for Derek’s face. Stiles clenched his fist, trying not to outwardly react. 

It was evident after the first few lunges that Derek was the better fighter. He controlled his rage, didn’t telegraph his moves, and wasn’t struggling with his control. Scott had been in his beta shift since he missed his first swipe. The only sign of Derek’s wolf stiles could see was his bright blue eyes. 

Derek sidestepped a wide kick from Scott and made his first offensive move with a hard punch to his temple. Scott stumbled and shook his head clear with a snarl. 

From there on, Derek dodged and hit, landing solid blows on Scott’s body and head. Soon, blood and spittle foamed around Scott’s fangs. Derek had barely broken a sweat, and light drops of blood lingered on his arms from already healed scrapes.

“Come on, Scott,” Derek goaded. “You have all that Alpha Spark and can’t throw a real punch. It’s embarrassing. Maybe you should have let me train you a few years ago.”

Scott’s foot connected with Derek’s hip, shoving him back a few feet. “You gave up your Alpha Spark. And at least I didn’t kill to get mine.”

Stiles held back a laugh. He vividly remembered when Scott wanted to be the one to kill Peter because he thought it’d cure him and take away his wolf. Now, Scott tried to guilt Derek about killing his then-homicidal uncle. Stiles met Peter’s eyes to his left, and the eldest Hale was smirking at the irony, too. 

Derek raised his eyebrow, the slightest twitch of his face, and Stiles knew he was going for the ending move. He felt his lips begin to twitch into a smile. It was the same look he gave his betas when they gave him an opening to strike.

Scott dived to take out Derek’s legs, but Derek spun out of the way and wrapped his arms around Scott’s middle. From there, Stiles felt he watched it in slow motion. Derek threw Scott to the ground, climbing on his back. Derek’s knees pressed just below Scott’s shoulder blades, and he used his hands to pull Scott’s head up in a painful-looking arch.

Derk had both claws around Scott’s neck. “Yield.”

Scott tried to flip out of the hold and then let out a pitiful whine. Stiles heard a series of bones snapping coming from his spine.

“Submit or I will snap you in fucking half.” Derek went into his full beta-shift. 

One, two, three, four,... twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, Stiles counted the seconds in his head, waiting for Scott to give up. Neither wolf flinched a muscle.

Then, finally, Scott raised his chin an inch.

“Derek Hale has won the challenge. Beacon Hills is his.” Deaton sounded disappointed.

Stiles wanted to jump up and down, he was so proud. He knew Derek would win, but it was so satisfying to watch him pummel Scott. 

Derek shoved himself off Scott with a disgusted huff. “Get off my land, McCall.”

Scott rose from the ground, looking ragged. He looked at Derek with rage, eyes flickering between red and yellow. 

If Stiles thought Scott was dumb, his former best friend’s next move confirmed his stupidity. Scott directed his claws at Derek’s stomach. He was weak and exhausted from his fight, and Derek caught his wrist easily. 

Derek yanked on Scott’s arm, pulling them face to face, and roared. All the humans in the yard brought their hands over their ears, and the supernatural creatures fell to their knees and bared their necks.

Stiles watched in awe as the red faded from Scott’s eyes and grew in Derek’s.

Derek Hale was truly the Alpha of Beacon Hills again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Came to you with a broken faith

Gave me more than a hand to hold

Caught before I hit the ground

Tell me I'm safe, you've got me now

Derek POV

“What did you do to me?” Scott huffed. 

Derek wanted to roll his eyes, but he was too in shock. He felt the familiar thrum of the power of the Alpha-spark run through his veins. All the bonds in his chest went ablaze, and any restlessness he felt settled down.

“The gift of a True alpha can be given and taken away. The magic of the land had decided you are no longer worthy and gave the spark to the rightful leader of the land,” Deaton answered. 

“What about us?” Scott’s young beta asked, looking shaken. 

“I made you, Liam. You’re mine,” Scott lashed out. 

Derek watched as he moved in slow moments, waiting for his spine to fully heal. He didn’t want to break the teen’s back all the way, but those few cracks satisfied his wolf’s bloodlust. 

Liam flinched away from Scott, angling his body behind Kira’s. 

In Derek’s opinion, Scott didn’t look scary, hunched over, yet Isaac cowered away from him. It made him sick to his stomach to see Isaac look scared, the way he looked when his father was still alive. 

“Isaac,” Derek’s voice was soft. “Come home.”

He watched Isaac’s soft blue eyes go wide, darting between him and Scott.

“Look at me, not him. When I turned you, the goal was to save you from the abuse you suffered at home, not for you to experience it from another’s hands. I may not have been the best alpha back then, but I promise you now that you will not know fear in my pack.” Derek offered his hand in Isaac’s direction. 

“He chose me when you let the Alpha Pack almost kill Boyd and Erica. You don’t deserve him.” Somehow, Scott still thought he had any power in this situation.

Heat radiated around Derek as his pack came around him in support. Stiles was to his right, Peter to his left, and Cora, Boyd, and Erica filled in the rest of the space. 

“You guys are happy with Derek?” Isaac’s eyes were dim and tired, like he was begging for a reprieve. 

“He got us away before Deucalion could kill us. He built us a home. Yes, we’re happy.” Erica gave Isaac a watery smile.

Derek knew Boyd and Erica felt like they were missing a part of themselves without Isaac. They were three parts of a whole when they were first turned. If Isaac accepted Derek’s offer, he would fill a hole in all their chest. 

It broke Derek’s heart to watch Isaac’s body crumple onto itself, and the teen fell into Derek’s arms, sobbing. 

“You’re okay, pup, you’re okay.” Derek rubbed his hands up and down his back.

“If you leave with him, Isaac, you’ll never receive any love or support from me ever again.” Scott was standing straight up, finally. The remaining members of his pack hesitated, not knowing where they stood. 

Isaac wiped his eyes and squared his shoulders. “Scott, you’ve changed since Allison died. You’re cruel and controlling. We have been through enough, Scott. We deserve peace and happiness, and I haven’t felt that with you in weeks. I’m staying with Derek. The rest of you should consider joining, too.”

Derek looked every person who stood behind McCall in the eyes. Malia seemed to be on the fence. He knew she relied on Scott for control, but at the same time, she was a Hale by blood, and Derek felt a pull to her. Liam and his human friend glared at the Hales. It was clear they were going to support Scott. Kira looked sad, but Derk knew she loved Scott too much to leave him. Lydia was stone-faced. She’d probably weigh the pros and cons before picking a pack. 

There were a lot of misunderstandings and bad blood between everyone, and Derek knew the feud between the packs wasn't going to end this New Year's morning. 

“You don’t deserve to say Allison’s name when you are picking her murderer over us.” Scott looked crazed with dried blood around his mouth.

“You weren’t the only one who loved her and lost her, Scotty,” Isaac whispered.

The air filled with the scent of Stiles’ guilt. Derek reached down a grabbed his mate’s hand in his, squeezing it. 

“But I’m the only one brave enough to do something about it.” 

“What do you mean?” Malia spoke for the first time that morning.

They didn’t know, Derek realized. There was no way they knew that Scott had sent Chris to kill Stiles. All of them were confused. They may not fully trust Stiles after the nogitsune, but they didn’t look like they wanted him dead, unlike the former True Alpha. 

“He had Chris follow me to keep me in line and try to kill me,” Stiles spoke up quickly, not meeting anyone’s eyes. 

Multiple voices of alarm shouted around Scott. And then they all looked at Derek like he had all the answers as the new alpha.

“A few days after Christmas, a few of my pack members were shopping at the mall. There in the parking lot, Chris cornered them and put a gun to Stiles’ head. Scott had given Chris permission to kill Stiles after the man had been stalking him. I stopped him.” Derek kept it short. The memory of Stiles standing with a gun to his head made him angry all over again.

Deaton stepped between the two groups. “This morning has been quite eventful for everyone. I think it is time for the two groups to part. Everyone needs to take in the new information that has been shared. Just remember, Derek is now the Alpha.”

Derek knew Deaton was embarrassed. His prized True Alpha lost his spark and a member of his pack all within an hour. The vet just wanted to prevent more loss on McCall’s side. And from the lingering gazes Lydia and Malia gave the Hales, Derek sensed his pack would grow more in the future. 

Stiles POV

Holy fucking shit. That was the phrase that ran threw Stiles’ head the entire afternoon.

After Scott and his band of misfits left, there was so much excitement. The man they’d already considered Alpha finally had his rightful title. Derek got his first bitten beta back. 

Stiles could feel the warm happiness in his chest that the pack felt from having Isaac back. Boyd and Erica held him down on the couch for hours, just hugging.  He couldn’t tell if he was just enjoying the moment or was really feeling the bonds in his chest. 

Derek was smiling from his chair next to the couch. They’d all just been chilling in silence. 

And fuck, if Stiles didn’t love the look of Derek smiling. He remembered the kiss on his neck from earlier and wanted to explore what it meant. As if Derek read his mind, he met his eyes from across the room. 

Stiles could spend hours trying to find all the colors in Derek’s eyes. At first, they came across as green, then hazel with a band of brown in the middle. It was the fleck of gold and sea blue that captivated Stiles the most. Any time Derek held his gaze, it was like a breath of fresh air. In all the blackness Stiles felt surrounding his life, Derek brought serenity and calm that settled in Stiles’ soul every time he looked into his kaleidoscope eyes. 

“Happy New Year, everyone,” Derek said to the room. “I want us to go into this year as a family. I love you all so much ,and thank you for trusting me as your leader.”

There was a chorus of “I love yous” from around the room, even from Cora and Peter, who’d normally tease Derek for being so soft. 

For someone who actively tried to scare Scott and Stiles when they first met, Derek Hale was a softie.

“Everyone rest, breathe. You all have school in a few days, so please do your homework.” Derek stood from his chair. “Stiles, come with me to my office.”

His stomach dropped, and he ignored the winks and teasing whistles from Cora and Erica. Walking slowly behind Derek, Stiles tried to figure out what they were about to talk about.

Was he going to tell Stiles that the hug from earlier didn’t mean anything? Was he going to kick Stiles out of the pack since he got Isaac back? Stiles knew Derek comforted him when Scott called him a murderer, but maybe he realized Stiles put a target on all their backs. Stiles’ anxiety made his thoughts spiral in a whirlwind, even with all the hope the morning brought. 

“I can hear your brain, calm down.” Derek smiled and closed the office door behind them.

“Well, it’s a little ominous when the new alpha asks for a private meeting in his office.” Stiles pulled at his fingers nervously. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Derek rushed out.

Wait, what? He looked at Derek in confusion, but the wolf hung his head, leaning away from Stiles on his desk. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I-” Derek winced. “When I kissed you before the challenge, I overstepped.”

 Stiles started cackling. “You’re an idiot. Could you not smell that I liked it?”

“You’re seventeen,” he argued back. “It doesn’t matter if you liked it. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“I’m eighteen.” His birthday had never been a big deal. Especially after his mom died. After the last year he had, he didn’t even notice that he or his friends missed it.

“What? When?” Derek’s shoulders sagged in relief. 

“November 14th.” He understood why Derek was worried about his age, after Kate. His stomach soured every time he remembered that Derek was only fifteen and used by a twenty-five-year-old woman. 

“Isn’t that when?” Derek’s voice trailed off.

It’s when Allison was killed by a monster wearing my face. 

Stiles clapped his hands together. “So, now that we have established that you aren’t stealing my virtue or robbing the cradle or however you want to say it, are we good?”

Derek blushed all the way up to his ears. “No, Stiles. I won’t be good until I stop running and hiding from things in my life. I ran to New York after the fire. I hid in a burnt house when Laura died, and I wanted to not return and hide in South America.” He pushed himself off the desk, crowding right up to Stiles. “My wolf called me home for a reason. So, no more running, no more hiding. If you’d have me, I’m all yours. You are my home, Lucjusz.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped. Here he was with the most gorgeous man in front of him, offering up his heart. It would have been entirely fair if Derek had run and stayed in South America. Beacon Hills had taken everything from him. Yet, he returned for Stiles. Stiles never felt safer than when he was in Derek’s arms--he was his home.

“How the hell did you figure out my real name?” He whispered in shock.

“Your dad told me around Christmas.” Derek held Stiles’ cheeks between his hands.

That traitor. The small circles Derek rubbed with his thumbs brought a sense of comfort, grounding Stiles at the moment. “You found me and took me in when I was at my lowest. I don’t deserve to stand by your side, but I would be honored to be yours.”

Trembling, Stiles tilted his head to close the small gap between them. It was a tentative kiss, both of them afraid to take things too far. He wanted more, to dig his hands into Derek’s hair and draw him close until it seemed their bodies were fused together.

Stiles pulled back first. “Happy New Year, Alpha.”

“Happy New Year, little one.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Would you take the wheel

If I lose control?

If I'm lyin' here

Will you take me home?

Could you take care

Of a broken soul?

Oh, will you hold me now?

Will you take me home?

Stiles POV

The all-important second semester of junior year: SAT prep, college applications, AP test- it all had Stiles frazzled. He managed to stay in the top ten percent of his class when he was being haunted and mauled twenty-four-seven. Now, he knew with a supportive family by his side, he’d be neck and neck with Lydia (or he hoped).

Stiles quit lacrosse the first day back, joining the cross-country team with Erica and Cora instead. Derek ordered that they get some athletic training outside of pack training. Boyd and Isaac were still on the lacrosse team with Scott and Liam. 

It wasn’t pretty. 

The tension between the two packs became the number one hallway gossip. Stiles constantly got asked why he and Scott hadn’t connected at the hip anymore, how the hell Boyd and Erica were back from their disappearance, and whether he and Cora were dating.

“We both lost a friend in Allison and grew apart in grief.”- “They left for legal reasons and returned after their emancipation was finalized.”- “No, Cora and I aren’t dating.”

He tended to leave out the part where he was dating her older brother, trying to avoid more noisy questions. It was a lot to ignore on top of the lingering looks the McCall pack would give them.

Lydia was in most of his classes, and she seemed more exhausted every day. He always saw her and Scott’s other human, Mason, huddled together outside classes, whispering. Stiles did not doubt that Scott had them researching a way to get his alpha spark back.

Malia seemed to be on edge all the time. By the second week of the semester, she got suspended for fighting with other students. Stiles felt terrible for her because he knew just how hard she had worked on her control, and it hurt to see her regress. After she left school, he often saw a blue-eyed coyote darting through the edge of the trees of the preserve. 

And when it came to Stiles’ ex-best friend, Scott acted as if nothing had changed. He smiled his puppy-dog smile, kissed his super-sweet girlfriend between classes, and captained the lacrosse team with confidence.

But Stiles knew better. Scott wasn’t going to take his defeat with dignity. He always felt he was better than Derek and fought his wolf side unless he benefited from the perks (strength, speed, healing). Whatever scheme he was brewing, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“What has you so distracted?” Cora tugged on his ear, bringing him back to lunch.

“Scott,” Stiles grumbled. 

With a snort, Cora spoke, “Every day in the halls, it’s like there’s smoke coming out of his ears. I can’t tell if his little pea brain is working too hard or he’s just permanently pissed off.” 

“Probably both,” Isaac spoke up from Cora’s right.

His crush on the younger Hale wolf was palpable. He fit right into the rest of the group after the New Year. The rest of the pack barely held back their giggles and snorts when Isaac basically threw himself at her feet whenever she entered a room. 

Cora tried to act indifferent, but she blushed and inched her body closer to the blonde when he was close to her. 

Stiles loved it. Just as much as he hated the fact that he knew his pack was going to be attacked in the future- by people he used to consider friends. 

“Are you going to tell Derek about your suspicions?” Boyd hated hiding possible threats from Derek. 

They all knew the McCall pack wasn’t going to back down easily, but Stiles asked them not to say anything to Derek yet. There were no words spoken between the pack and no blood spilled. At the moment, it was just rigid, foreboding air.

“No. Not until we have solid proof that they’re planning something. Stressing him out over nothing will just make us all miserable. Do you really want extra training again?” Stiles didn’t like hiding things from Derek either, but he’d rather his boyfriend (God, he loved being able to call Derek his boyfriend finally) stay happy and be at peace than be stressed again. 

Boyd sighed but nodded. Stiles ranked above him, so he had to follow his orders. Stiles wasn’t used to being in charge or his opinions actually respected- it made his head spin a little bit. 

The turkey sandwich Derek packed in his lunch was dry in his mouth. He hated just waiting like a sitting duck. Under the chips in his lunch bag, he found a note from Derek.

“Have a good day. Good luck with your history test. P.S.- stop worrying about Scott.”

Choking on a half-chewed sandwich, he waved the note in Boyd’s direction. The normal stoic teen chuckled and patted Stiles on the back.

If only it were that easy to ease his fretting. Just gotta get through the second half of the day. Then the next, and next, and next…. Stiles just wanted to graduate. 

“Come on, Sti,” Cora got up from the table. “I’ll walk you to history and help you with your flashcards one last time.”

The longer Stiles spent around Cora, the less scary she became. When they were being hunted by the alpha pack, she was all growls and eyebrows, just like her brother. Stiles could tell that there was an ease to her now, around the pack and family.

“Ok. This one is easy. What is the official term for the first 10 amendments?”

“Bill of Rights.”

“What year did the US enter World War II?”

“1941.”

Cora didn’t ask another question, rustling through the cards. “God, these aren’t even from the same period.”

“Yeah. That is the hell of an AP class, every test is cumulative.” 

“And you’re in what, four AP classes?”

“Five. AP US History, AP Calculus, AP Biology, AP Chemistry, and AP Language and Composition.” 

“When do you sleep?” She joked, bumping into his shoulder. 

“I get about four to six hours a night.” His sleep pattern depended on the nightmares, how much homework he had, and Derek. His boyfriend had a habit of crawling into Stiles’ window at night when he wasn’t at the cabin. And if he slept at the cabin, he’d demand cuddles to fall asleep. 

He slept better in Derek’s arms, but didn’t want to seem clingy or like he was rushing Derek. 

“And yet you have a 3.999 GPA. You are an amazing man, Stiles Stilinski. I’m honored to have you as Alpha Mate.”

His heart stuttered in his chest. The warning bell rang, and he shook off the sudden heavy emotions. “Careful, Cora, Isaac might think you’re flirting with me.”

She turned her nose in the air, “Like I care what Isaac thinks.”

“Sure,” he said, side-eyeing her. “You keep saying that.”

“Go take your test, Stilinski.” She turned on her heel and strutted to her Pre-Cal class.

He spotted Lydia in her seat with her head on the desk. Before he could overthink it, he slid into the desk next to hers. 

“You ready for the test that covers 200 years of American hypocrisy, sorry, I mean history.”

Tired green eyes met his. “We only just finished the World War II unit, so that’s all I studied.”

His heavy stack of flashcards thunked on the desk. “Well, to get ready for the AP test, all the class tests this semester are cumulative.”

“I doubt I would have had the time to study it all anyway.” Her voice was rough.

“Like you ever fail a test,” he joked. It was hard to ignore how worn out she looked. “When’s the last time you got a full night’s rest?” He asked softly.

She shrugged. “Leave it alone, Stiles. We each chose our sides.”

“Like Scott ever gave any of us a choice when he decided to do something stupid.” Stiles ground his teeth together. 

“You followed him.” She argued back.

“He did what the fuck he wanted and I got caught in the crossfire, then had to clean up his messes.” He nearly knocked his index cards off the desk with a wave of his hands.

Lydia reared back at his burst of anger. “Just take your test,” she paused. “And tell your pups to also go out in pairs.” With that, she turned away from him and moved her hair to block the view of her face. 

~~~

Derek POV

February brought chill winds into the preserve. Derek often found the pack sleeping around the fireplace with books and notebooks scattered around them. He was proud of them. They kept their grades up, participated in sports, and didn’t get into trouble. 

He and Peter started spreading the word that Northern California had a Hale Alpha in charge again. When his family was larger, the pack was spread from San Francisco, as far north as Portland, and as far east as Salt Lake City. His mom was the head Alpha and controlled many sub-territories. After the fire, the packs that weren’t Hale wolves became self-governed. 

Derek didn’t want his territory to return to that level of vastness, but having connections in the supernatural world would be nice. Beacon Hills scraped by the last couple of attacks, by luck and the skin of their teeth. And now, with the internal tension between them and McCall, Derek wanted to have some backup. 

They had heard back from Satomi Ito, alpha of a local nomad pack, Terrence Wallace, whose pack is made up of older, retired wolves, and Mary Collins, whose pack was a mix of humans and various were-creatures. 

All agreed to be supportive of each other in the face of attacks, have an open information network, and meet biannually. 

Derek looked over his sleeping loved ones, people who've all fought for him, and came back to him even after he screwed up, and felt the bonds tighten and strengthen a little more in his chest.

An arm wrapped around his waist, and he felt a forehead rest against his back. 

“Hi, little one.” Derek curled his hand around Stiles’.

“You know, we’re almost the same height.” 

Derek chuckled. “I’m still, overall, bigger than you, Sti.”

The puff of air from Stiles’ sigh danced over Derek’s skin. “Yeah, yeah, I know, my big bad wolf.”

Derek growled low in his chest, turning so they were chest to chest. “Isn’t the big bad wolf the villain of that story?”

“We’re rewriting the story,” Stiles grinned.

“How so?” Derek traced a finger down the side of Stiles’ face.

“Well, Little Red Riding Hood went into the woods, looking for his wolf. No grandma, no basket full of treats. Just a lonely, curious person.” Stiles’ eyes reflected the whirling fire. “The wolf tried so hard to be scary, to scare the human away. But the young man was annoyingly persistent. So the wolf begrudgingly befriended Little Red. They realized they were both lonely, hurt, and haunted by their past. Together, the woods became their home.”

“Did they live happily ever after?” Derek’s voice went soft.

Stiles leaned in and pressed his lips to his. “Yes. Yes, they did.”

Three words sat at the tip of Derek's tongue- words he never thought he’d want to say to anyone. Yet here he was, falling for the young man in his arms. 

“Lucjusz, my little red.” Derek just held his love in his arms, enjoying the peace and warmth.

~~~

The cabin was not as warm when everyone went to school. Peter tended to disappear, and Derek didn’t want to know what his uncle got up to. 

The Alpha made a habit of walking around town. He’d sit at a local bakery some afternoons and just people-watch. Plus, the owner was a sweet old lady who made the best blueberry scones. 

Derek winced at the dry, smoky scent that came in with a new bakery customer. Deputy Parrish walked up to the counter, scent following. There was the distinct earthy scent that all shifters had, regardless of their animal type. 

Out of uniform, Parrish looked younger. He spotted Derek at his corner table and waved. 

Derek waved back and pointed to the empty chair across from him, inviting him to sit. Parrish nodded and ordered his food.

“Deputy,” Derek greeted.

“Please call me Jordan. It’s nice to see you in town, Hale.”

“I’m making Beacon Hills my home again,” Derk answered honestly.

“Yeah. Noah mentioned you had a new property out in the woods.”

“He and Stiles spent Christmas out there. It’s nice.” Derek sipped his London Fog Latte.

“He also mentioned that you’re dating Stiles,” Jordan raised an eyebrow. 

He nodded. He wasn’t going to defend his relationship.

“Good. I always thought Stiles was selling himself short by being friends with McCall.”

Derek let out a surprised laugh. “Glad to see I have the Sheriff Department’s approval.”

The deputy nodded, and they ate their snacks in silence for a few moments.

It still bothered Derek that he couldn’t place the other man’s scent. Fuck it, He thought. “Jordan, I’m about to ask you a weird question.” He paused, making sure he had his attention. “What are you?”

Parrish startled back, eyes darting around the shop. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

Derek showed the man his red eyes and fangs. “I’d like to know what lives in my territory. So, I’ll ask again. What are you?” 

A pair of fiery orange eyes met Derek’s. “Hellhound, Alpha.” He bowed his head slightly.

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about Jordan’s rebirth and joining Derek’s pack. It didn’t take much convincing. “Heck, if Noah trusts you enough to date his son, I’ll join.” 

Derek figured that after dying from an IED in the military, coming back to life as a harbinger of souls wasn’t easy. Since the military reported him dead to his family, Jordan could never go home. Derek was giving him a second chance at a family.

Just as he felt a new bond forming in his chest, his bond with Stiles lit aflame in his chest and faded away.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

You say space will make it better

And time will make it heal

I won't be lost forever

And soon I wouldn't feel

Like I'm haunted, woah falling

Stiles POV

His phone clattered to the floor after his flashlight flickered out. A panicked gasp of breath echoed off the concrete and metal around him. The iron trap around his left ankle dug into his bones, skin sticky with blood. The pain radiated all the way to his head, and his body shivered in the cold basement. 

Footsteps thudded from the shadows.

“Who’s there? Who are you?” he screamed into the room.

A raspy voice answered in slow Japanese. 

“What?’

More Japanese.

Stiles began to sob, “I don't- I don’t understand.” He continued to fight against his restraint when the voice finally answered in English.

“Not ‘who are you’, Stiles. Who are we?”  The figure stepped into a small sliver of moonlight from a window.

Stiles stopped shivering. He couldn’t move at the sight of the creature. A man, bandaged from head to toe, in an old bomber jacket. His mouth… dear god his mouth, made Stiles’ stomach twist. It was a black abyss, full of sharp gold teeth.

“No!” Stiles woke with a start, yelling, his head snapping up. He was bound by his wrists and ankles to a metal chair with chains. I can’t let him in again. I’ll kill myself before I let the nogitsune in again. 

After he caught his breath, his vision cleared up. They had taken him to Derek’s old train yard. Good to know Scott’s still an idiot. 

He knew it was Scott who took him. It was just after school, and Stiles was waiting by his Jeep for Isaac. He had a meeting with Coach about his economics paper. The other betas rode home with Cora. Technically, he figured he was heeding Lydia’s warning about staying in pairs if he was going to be with Isaac. 

Stiles hated it when he was wrong. 

Scott and Liam must have been planning for the perfect moment. Liam distracted Stiles by lingering in front of the school, muttering to himself suspiciously. Stiles followed him with his eyes and missed Scott coming up behind him. His ex-best friend hit him over the head with a lacrosse stick. 

The last thing Stiles heard before he lost consciousness was Scott saying, “Beacon Hills is mine. You’re a monster, and your pack deserves nothing. ”

No, Scotty. Stiles thought sadly. It is you who takes your gift for granted, who deserves nothing. 

Stiles thought back on when Scott first turned. It was his second full moon, and Scott had a dark tone, believing he was in control. 

“You think I’m going to let you put these on and chain me up like a dog?” Scott had asked in a somber tone.

Now look how the tables have turned. Scott chained Stiles up, but he had become that mean, vengeful person. Stiles had looked past Scott’s threat to kill him back then. Maybe Stiles shouldn’t have blamed the moon; maybe that was just who Scott was. 

Footsteps clanged on the metal staircase. The familiar heavy boots of Chris Argent came into view and were followed by the practical shoes of the local vet. 

Fucking Deaton. 

Chris didn’t waste any time, pulling out an electric cattle prod and sticking it to the arm of Stiles’ chair. Stiles tensed as his body sparked in pain. A scream rose in his throat, but he clenched his teeth. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

“Why are Derek and Peter talking to other packs?” Chris interrogated Stiles after he stopped electrocuting Stiles.

“That’s ‘Alpha Hale’ to you,” Stile spat out a mouthful of saliva at Chris' face. “Crazy must run in your entire family. Your sister was a pedophile, your father was a sociopath, and you’ve evolved into a psychopath.”

The hunter’s face turned an ugly red. He swiped Stiles’ spit from his cheek. “You piece of shit.”

“I’m the same piece of shit that saved you from being sacrificed by a darach, so um, you’re welcome.” Stiles was scared shitless. His entire body was sore, but he figured Chris was like Gerard- if he kept talking, the man would eventually do a villain monologue and give Stiles a clue to get out of there. He didn’t think he’d be tortured by an Argent twice. 

“You’re the same piece of shit that killed my daughter. Your alpha killed my wife and father. Peter Hale killed my sister. You deserve thanks and credit for nothing.” Chris delivered a solid backhand, causing Stiles to bite his cheek.

“Fucking bastard.” Stiles gagged and spat out the blood in his mouth. “Your wife killed herself because of your dumb fucking code. Peter killed Kate because she burned his entire family to death. I hope Geread is rotting in hell for his long list of sins. And Allison-” his breath shuddered in his chest- “I will forever be sorry and feel guilty for her death. It eats me alive every day.”

“Screw you, your pack, and your guilt.” Chris placed the cattle prod on Stiles' thigh.

Stiles passed out for a second from the pain, thinking his heart was going to explode from the electricity. 

“Chris,” Deaton interrupted gently. “We need him alive to break the bind and get his alpha’s attention. We need to put Scott back in charge again. And Scott doesn’t want Stiles dead yet.”

They’re going to use me to kill Derek. Stiles wasn’t thinking about himself. He’d been looking death in the face since Peter stopped pretending to be in a coma. He wasn’t afraid to die, but he’d be damned if Derek didn’t get a chance to live. Stiles wouldn’t need Void to kill them if they threatened his pack. Their blood would spill from his hands, happily. 

“What do you need for the spell?” Chris gritted.

“Just a few drops of his blood, straight from the vein.” Deaton dug into his bag, pulling out an obsidian bowl covered in runes. 

Every curse word, insult, and obscenity flew from the trapped teen’s mouth as the hunter approached him with a knife. Chris loosened the chain on his left wrist just enough to slide his wrist forward. The blade was sharp, slicing his skin open cleanly, and Deaton caught the flow before any dripped onto the floor.

“Serva et vincla sacratissima divellite. Separate lupum a concubina, sua sarcina. Fac eum solum,” Deaton began to chant and lit the blood in the bowl on fire. The druid cut Stiles’ shirt open and drew a series of arrow-looking runes right over his heart using the scorched blood. After a minute of Latin, he repeated the phrase once in English, “Server and tear the most divine of bonds. Separate the wolf from his mate, his pack. Make him alone.”

A worse pain than the cattle prod seized Stiles’ heart, almost like he’d been stabbed. His mouth tasted like ash, his eyes watered, and he couldn't breathe. 

He took away my pack, my home. I’m alone and haunted by darkness again. Stiles dropped his chin to his chest and sobbed. 

~~~

Derek POV

The engine of the Camaro roared as Derek sped down the path to the cabin. Everyone was standing outside the door waiting. Wait, Derek recounted all the heads. Isaac was missing.

“Where are Isaac and Stiles?” The words were slurred around his fangs. The shift had been uncontrollable since he lost his mate bond. 

“We don’t know. We left school before them. Isaac had a meeting with Coach, and they were going to ride home together.” Erica’s hand was rubbing circles on her chest. “We all felt the bond cut.”

“I still feel Isaac,” Cora cut in. She looked like their mother, eyes hard and fierce.

“I circled back to the school. His jeep was gone, but I found a few drops of Stiles’ blood on the concrete, and I could smell McCall,” Peter informed, eyes bright blue.

Derek paused, taking deep breaths, trying to regain an ounce of control. It was hard to do with his anchor severed. “They want me,” he concluded. “Scott is going to try to kill me to be an Alpha again.”

He knew that was what the misguided teen had been planning since New Year's. All his betas came home from school daily discussing Scott’s aggression and Stiles’ worry. Scott’s pack was slowly unraveling, and he made his climactic move. Isaac was probably an accidental collateral, just in the wrong place and time. 

Stiles had always been the target and main source of Scott’s anger. And now Derek. 

“Where would he take Stiles?” Derek began to pace the lawn.

“If the goal is to lure you in, they’d be somewhere you know,” Byod spoke from where he was wrapped around Erica.

“So the old loft, the house, or the train depot. Maybe even the hospital, given how often we got attacked there.” Peter counted off locations. 

“He is most likely teamed up with Argent and Deaton. They’d help him pick a practical place,” Derek’s brain was reeling. “I was with Parrish when I felt his bond snap, but someone still needs to call Noah.” 

His wolf was on the edge. The world around him was tinted red, and his claws were digging into his palms.

“We’re going to find him, nephew.” Peter placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. 

Derek snarled at the other man, creeping closer to being feral with every second. He continued to pace as everyone else made preparations. His skin prickled and itched. There was an ever-expanding hole in his chest where his Lucjusz should be. The comforting warmth, the thrum of his slightly too fast heartbeat that traveled down the bond. It was an energy that Derek centered his entire universe around, and now there was no gravity to keep him from spiraling into oblivion. 

Two police cruisers came up the driveway, spitting gravel into the air. “Where the hell is my son?” Noah was out of the car before it came to a complete stop. 

Parrish climbed out of the second car. Derek smelled the wolfsbane bullets in their guns and swore he saw heat waves radiating off the hellhound’s skin. 

“Scott has taken him and Isaac. We suspect Chris Argent and Deaton are also involved. They have somehow severed Stiles’ pack bonds. None of us can feel him anymore.” Cora came out of the front door. 

“So, how do we find him?” Noah began double-checking all the weapons in his belt. 

“Peter is in the house calling his contacts, asking about suspicious behavior around the places we think they might have gone.” Cora caught him and Parrish up on what they believed Scott was planning. 

“If I were to plan an ambush, I’d pick either the old loft or the train depot. Both locations are big enough for a fight, but have one point of entry. If it was going to be a clean fight, the loft- a dirty fight, the depot.” Jordan rationed.

“Hunters never clean,” Peter almost hissed.

Derek spun on his heel, sprinting back to his car. Rapid footsteps followed him. When he got to the train depot, it was fucking on.

~~~

Rust rained down from the old rafters from Derek’s enraged howl. He and his pack descend the stairs into the basement room slowly. Bloodlust shone on every one of their faces.

Deaton and Chris stood on either side of Stiles, the latter holding a gun to the unconscious teen’s head. Noah and Jordan both pulled their guns and aimed them at the hunter.

“You’re going to learn to stop pointing your fucking gun at my son’s head, Argent,” Noah’s voice was hard as steel. 

“I should have put him down months ago, that day in Derek’s loft.” Chris was nearly foaming at the mouth. 

The people in the room couldn't tell who’d gone more rogue and feral- Derek or Chris. 

“I would have shot you dead then and there.” Noah clicked off his safety. 

“Nobody is going to shoot anyone.” Scott came out of the decrepit train car in the back of the room. “This is between Derek, Stiles, and me. I refuse to let Beacon Hills fall into the hands of a false alpha and a killer.”

All the Hale wolves snarled viciously at the sight of the disgraced wolf.

“You wanted me, Scott.” Derek raised his arms to the side in a t-pose. “Come get me.”

That was all it took for the fight to start. Derek immediately caught on that Scott had practiced since January. His movements were less wild, more intent behind every punch. 

Scott landed a hefty uppercut to Derek’s jaw, forcing the man back a few steps. 

Derek rubbed at his face and chuckled. “Good to see you finally learned how to throw a proper punch.”

Scott huffed, taking a defensive stance, “Come on, Derek,” he spat the name. “Last time you mentioned something about snapping me in half, I’d like to see you try.”

His wolf’s mouth watered at the idea of snapping Scott’s neck, blood gushing down its gullet. This wretch of a wolf wanted to take away his home, land, and mate. Never again will Derek run away alone, abandoning what was rightfully his. 

Before he knew what was happening, Derek’s entire body broke into tremors, and a large black wolf leaped out from his skin. It stood to Scott’s shoulder, mouth salivating, curled around its canines. 

Derek felt smug as he watched all the color fade from Scott’s face. An audible gasp came from his pack against the far wall. Chris’s gun moved from Stiles’ head to Derek’s position.

Good. Now his mate was in less danger. Derek rolled his hunches, cocking his head to the side. Come on, Scott. Fight me.

Scott shook off his surprise and jumped at the wolf. Even with his new large shape, Derek dodged Scott easily. Scott landed in a pile of old lumber, the wood crumbling under his body. Derek didn't give him a chance to get up, not wanting this fight to last any longer. 

One claw dug into his stomach, drawing out a scream from the teen. The metallic smell of blood quickly filled the room, and Derek’s wolf relished in it. He bit down on Scott’s arm until he felt the bone snap. The same thing happened to his other arm and left leg. 

Scott’s pulse thrummed under Derek’s jaw. The wolf didn’t clamp down, just held his teeth on the skin. Scott grunted and bucked under Derek’s weight, but the wolf gave not give. 

“If you kill me, there’s nothing stopping Chris from killing Stiles,” Scott gasped out. 

Scott’s entire body shuddered from Derek’s growl. Then, a gunshot rang out, followed by an exclamation of pain from a man. 

Derek glanced to his side from this crouch to see the ends of Noah’s gun still smoking, and Chris doubled over, blood pouring from a gut wound. “I told you to stop pointing your weapon at my son. I hope you’ve finally learned your lesson,” Noah spoke calmly.

Stiles started to come to. Derek kept his eyes on his awakening mate, teeth still at Scott’s throat. When he finally caught of glimpse of those shining brown eyes, he looked back at Scott. His eyes were the wrong shade of yellow, muddy. 

Derek let off his neck and found his human skin again. “You’re becoming an omega, Scott. Again, yield to me, tell the wolves and humans who follow your false leadership to leave me and mine alone. You, your false emissary, and the disgraced hunter will be banished from Beacon Hills and all territories associated with the Hale family.”

“And if I don’t?” Scott had blood spilling from his mouth.

“I will kill you and sleep well at night.” Derek shrugged. 

Scott moaned in pain. “Never.” He bucked, but Derek wrapped a clawed hand around his throat and lifted him off his feet. Broken arms hung uselessly at his side.

“Please,” Stiles rasped. “Just give up, Scotty.”

It calmed the rage coursing through Derek’s veins to hear Stiles’ voice again. “Last time I will tell you, submit,” he ground out to Scott. 

Scott’s eyes danced around the room, taking in the numbers. He didn’t bring his pack as backup, and his strongest asset was wounded. A lone tear fell from his eyes, and he leaned his head to the side.

Derek lets Scott's body crumble to the ground. Immediately, Deaton tried running for the exit but was caught by Boyd, who put him in an armlock. Erica moved and broke the chains around Stiles. Noah put handcuffs on Chris.

"Where's Isaac?" Stiles limped on Erica's arm. 

That was why Derek loved him. Stiles had been beaten, yet didn't care for himself, only for others.

"At the clinic." Deaton sounded broken.

Erica brought Stiles over to Derek, then she and Cora both restrained Scott. 

"Take care of your mate, brother. Peter will get Isaac, and the rest of us will help Noah handle Scott and his pack," Cora whispered.

They all exited the depot, leaving the pair behind. When the last heartbeat faded from Derek's ears, he let himself cry. "I couldn't feel you, little one." He kissed Stiles' forehead. "I still can't feel you."

Stiles smiled weakly, leaning into Derek's strength. "You found me, fought for me, and saved me. I am yours, Alpha."

Derek's heart hammered in his chest as the bond reformed. "I love you, Lucjusz."

"I love you, too, Derek."

Chapter Text

Epilogue

Would you take the wheel

If I lose control?

If I'm lyin' here

Will you take me home?

Could you take care

Of a broken soul?

Oh, will you take me home?

Home

Derek POV

His family was together again. There were no threats from other wolves, and no crazy hunters to break their pack apart. All the fights, breakdowns, bloodshed, nightmares, and losses that they suffered through. Now, with each other, they have happiness, trust, stability, and love. 

Derek had always thought that nothing could be built from ashes, that the phoenix myth was bullshit, and that burns would never heal. He’d never been so happy to be wrong. The ashes from Kate no longer stained his skin, as well as all the wounds and burns his pack had slowly healed over time. It wasn’t easy. 

Isaac flinched every time Derek flashed his eyes at him.

Erica and Boyd couldn’t stand lightning and thunder.

Noah took an early sabbatical. After learning so much about the supernatural world, he had to change the way he approached being an officer of the law.

Cora and Peter spent their time in the Hale vault, itching to find memories of their family.

The scattered members of the ex-McCall pack floated around Beacon Hills. Malia was last seen wandering the preserve in her coyote form. Scott, Deaton, Chris, and Melissa moved out of town based on rumors. They claimed Deaton was opening a new practice somewhere in Florida, taking Scott with him. 

Scott’s beta, Liam, was still in school. He hung around with Kira and Lydia. 

Derek knew from firsthand experience that a pack didn’t need an alpha to still have bonds. He just prayed the young wolf’s connection with the kitsune and banshee was strong enough to keep him in control. 

Derek was ready for his home to be peaceful again. He wanted his pack to thrive, be happy, and have a chance at a future. No more fighting for their lives. They needed to start living their lives to the fullest.

They took everything day by day. 

Stiles was getting better slowly. He started gaining weight, he won a few of his cross-country races, and his nightmares lessened every night that passed. 

Stiles had basically moved into the cabin full-time since the incident. The wolf in Derek found it hard to be far away from Stiles; the memory of their bond burning away left a scar.

“Hey, Big Bad,” Stiles came into the kitchen where Derek was sipping on a cup of tea. “Can’t sleep?”

Derek shook his head. “It’s weird.”

“What is?” Stiles moved to hug Derek from behind, resting his head between his shoulder blades.

“Not having to constantly be worried about being attacked. It is weird for me to feel calm.” It sounded crazy to say aloud.

A small shiver ran down Derek’s back as Stiles kissed the center of his tattoo. “You deserve peace, Der.” 

“We,” Derek corrected him. “We are in this together, Lucjusz. No matter what comes our way, we’ll face it as one.”

Derek let himself be turned around by Stiles’s hands. That was one thing Derek loved about Stiles. He was always gentle with him. Wolves were rough by nature, so even growing up, affection was given by shoves and play-fighting. 

“As if I would let you get rid of me,” Stiles joked, but his heart skipped a beat.

The alpha held his mate's face in his hands, holding eye contact to get his message across. “I can hear your heart, little one. I need you to believe me over the lies in your head. I never plan on letting you go. Wolves mate for life. I love you, forever and always.”

Stiles POV

If Derek heard his heart skip a beat again, it was because Stiles couldn’t control the emotions that welled in his chest. The love that he had for Derek- that Derek had for him, for their pack, and for the home they had built together was something Stiles never thought he’d have in life.

“Thank you, Der.” Stiles rested his head on Derek’s shoulder.

“For what?”

“For loving me when I was broken. For helping me get better. You stand strong by my side with every nightmare, every setback, and every breakdown.” Stiles bent his neck and kissed right above where Derk’s heart lay. “I love you, forever and always.”

That night, Stiles was pressed against Derek when their hearts began to beat in synch. He knew then home wasn’t a place, it was Derek. He was at home in Derek’s arms.