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“Hey Brett,” Stiles greeted. He’d been friends with Brett Talbot from Satomi Ito’s pack since graduation when their teams had played against each other for charity, and they’d put all the mess of packs aside. He was a great guy and trading stories about their packs kept them laughing for hours. He was an apprentice to become the next Right Hand and had progressed enough to attend most meetings with Alpha Satomi Ito, his manner open, honest, and friendly.
Stiles was still in DC with the FBI as a Supervisory Special Agent, putting his skills and brain to use while he gathered the resources he and his pack would need when he went back home. It wouldn’t be long now and after five years, he would be very relieved to get back. There was a chance he could leave in a matter of days if he completed his current case load fast enough. He missed his dad and friends.
Currently, in the pack, he was considered the Emissary Apprentice to Deaton, which was absolutely pointless and ridiculous. The man had nothing to teach him except how to be vague. But he accepted the position and trained on his own time.
He and Lydia had both sought mages and supernatural magical contacts to learn more about their separate abilities. They kept close contact after they split up and he didn’t know if the banshee would ever return to Beacon Hills. Not with as successful as she was. Her company was on the verge of amazing things, and he was excited for her.
Back home, the current pack consisted of the same folks that were there when they all graduated. Stiles knew that didn’t reflect good on the pack as there had really been no growth at all in nearly a decade.
The Hales - who had really been the only contact they’d had with born wolves and experienced were’s - had never come back after the last fight the McCall pack had all been in together.
Derek lived in Uruguay, one of the most southern countries in South America, with his son, sister and uncle. They texted often about life and work and Stiles’ adventures in the FBI. Stiles knew Derek was always there for life moments and his random texts and memes that he just had to share.
Derek living in Uruguay may have been the reason Stiles studied Spanish and Portuguese for four years with his FBI training. Being multilingual was a huge plus in his job. And maybe for Stiles visiting Derek and Eli.
Stiles had been shocked to learn Derek was a dad. He knew it was an accidental pregnancy, but that was all he knew about the mother. Derek had happily taken custody his son and was raising him with his family. Having the baby seemed to heal something in the Hales. They were building a family, the Hale name was being carried on. Derek told him when Eli turned one that Cora had baby fever with her mate, Roberto, resulting in his littlest cousin, Lucita or Lucy. Even Peter was eager to settle down and have a mini Peter to dress in v-neck onesies.
Stiles had met little Eli M. Hale on Facetime and listened to him talking in English and Spanish. He was an adorable little dude with curly brown hair, and Derek’s bright green eyes. He loved flashing his eyes at Stiles, bright gold and sparkling. Most of the time, he can’t show people, as he told Stiles. But Stiles got to see it, and Eli says that means he’s special. He was the funniest kid. Eli was outgoing, sweet and mischievous and loved to hear Stiles tell stories about his Daddy. Derek told him Eli’s antics sometimes reminded him of Stiles. He didn’t blush. At all.
Stiles had introduced his new little friend to curly fries and seeing him enjoy the curly deliciousness had made his day. Overall, Derek was settled, he had laugh lines now, he was relaxed and was more Happywolf than Sourwolf and Stiles couldn’t be more pleased for him. He longed for that in his own life. Settling down. No more strife. Just living.
Derek had offered more than once to host Stiles for a visit. Stiles had been planning a short trip before he returned home to California. He hoped he wouldn’t have to sleep alone while he was visiting his favorite wolf. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d shared a bed and he was fairly confident, if he gave the signal, it wouldn’t be the last time. He’d spent hours and days and weeks wondering what it would be like to be a stepdad. Eli was very easy to love, just as easy as it was to love his dad. Not that he was in love with Derek. At least, not publicly.
“Stiles, my man, how’s the DC?” Brett asked, a smile in his voice as he greeted his friend.
“Same as always. So, your text said you had pack news?” Stiles had noted a different tone to the text and had called Brett as soon as he had a break from the case he was working at home.
“Yeah, Satomi is finally willing to sit down with your pack and discuss an alliance. Solely based on her conversations with you,” Brett related. “It’s scheduled for noon today.”
Stiles had worked with Satomi for years, helping her with random research or discussing the intricacies of pack life so he could finish his book.
The book would be available to any supernatural being and it would have a bestiary, herbs and medicinal properties. Supernatural greetings and proper protocol and politics within different groups. Mating and pack interrelationships. He was hoping it would do a lot of good.
Satomi had always been impressed with how Stiles conversed with her and asked his questions politely, respecting her position, age and experience.
“That’s fantastic. Do you know who is coming?” Stiles asked, his tone bright, but his stomach twisted. Already his spark was warning him, telling him this was going to be trouble.
Brett sighed. “I hear your tone. And yes, Scott is coming. He is bringing Malia as his left hand. Liam as his right,” he told him.
Stiles moaned loudly. “Holy fuck. Can you just cancel it now? That is sending the two most volatile pack member and a junior pack member as a Right Hand with no formal knowledge or training of how to have an effective, political conversation. Oh for fuck’s sake. Scott told me he had some talks coming up with different packs. He didn’t tell me who he would be sending.”
“Yeah. Satomi is already hesitant. Though you haven’t shared your frustrations with her, trying to keep pack business private, she still knows your pack members from past dealings. She’s met Scott and Malia before and Malia was overly blunt with her, breaking every single pack protocol there was,” Brett told him.
“Shit. Can you apologize for me ahead of time? Tell her I had nothing to do with which delegates were being sent. Fuck. Yeah. I’m going to text Satomi and explain my absence. I can’t believe Scott didn’t tell me!” Stiles growled in frustration, raking his fingers through his tousled hair.
“Is he making decisions without you?” Brett asked, knowing how close Stiles and Scott had always been. Even when Scott was an ass. Which was often. Back when he and Stiles grew their friendship, Brett often had to remind himself not to hold Scott’s manners and words against Stiles. He swore he heard Stiles’ exasperation more than laughter with his best friend back then.
“Yeah. He insisted that because I wasn’t there, I couldn’t possibly understand what the pack was going through and to leave it to him. Brett, can we talk, pack politics aside?” Stiles asked. That was their key to set aside pack business and be just friends.
“Of course, what’s going on?” Brett asked. It had taken them a while to sort out their ‘official’ dealings with each other and their friendship. But they’d perfected it and were able to keep personal discussions private.
“We had a fight recently. With me being gone, things have been different, and he’s had to rely more on himself since a lot of the pack members have split. He is convinced he doesn’t need me, doesn’t need what I bring to the table and since he’s the werewolf, he would handle werewolf problems until I’m back for good. He’s tried keeping everything private, but Liam and I still talk and like you and I, we can separate pack and friendship. As per usual, I’m just frustrated with the jackass.” Stiles sighed. When would Scott learn? Life wasn’t all about him and his fucking True Alpha so-I’m-fucking-special attitude. “I know this goes against protocol, but would you let me know how it goes? I feel like I might need warning before I hear from His True Alpha-ness.”
Brett snorted. “Sure thing, Stiles. I have a feeling this is going to be more entertaining than successful alliance negotiations.”
“Gah! I need to text Satomi. I know she’s still having her morning meditation, so I won’t call,” Stiles groaned and rubbed his face. “I hope we’re all still friends afterward.”
Chuckling, Brett understood where Stiles was coming from. “No worries there, my friend. Satomi and I both know you are not Scott McCall and are not responsible for what comes out of his mouth.”
“Thank god for that,” Stiles mumbled. “Okay. Thank you so much for the heads up. I am going to go stick my head in a hole and wait for you to call me back.”
“Chin up, buddy. I’ll call or text as soon as I can,” Brett told him.
“Thanks man,” Stiles said, and they hung up.
Stiles quickly texted Satomi and relayed that Stiles did not sanction the coming group, and he expressed his profound disappointment at not being one of the McCall delegates. He’d looked forward to sitting down with her and discussing their packs.
The meeting with the McCall Pack was finally happening after years of Stiles talking to Scott telling him he needed allies. Especially with so many of the senior pack members being away or just quitting the pack.
Isaac and Chris visited once after going to France, but it was too much for both of them. Isaac lost the girl he loved in Beacon Hills and two of his packmates. Chris lost his father, sister, wife and daughter. They left again and never returned. They weren’t in contact with anyone from the pack. However, Chris was willing to respond to emails Stiles would send asking for hunter contacts and more in-depth information on being a hunter for Stiles’ book. Always business, though, never anything personal and Stiles was fine with that.
Jackson and Ethan were still together and loving London. They visited Derek in South America, Lydia in New York and even Stiles in DC. The three had gone out to a club and Stiles shocked his old frenemies with how graceful he had become on the dance floor. They each took a turn dancing with him and were impressed. He wasn’t ‘Flail Stilinski’ anymore. The FBI trained it right out of him. You couldn’t exactly flail if you’re in the middle of a hostage situation. Dancing was easy after that.
Stiles spent the next several hours downing heartburn chewables and drinking two pots of coffee. He was glad he had the day off otherwise he would probably freak out and panic. He even prayed to the Goddess to be forgiving and help Scott not be an ass for once.
He did love his old friend, dearly. But he didn’t love True Alpha McCall.
For instance, Scott insisted his pack members refer to him as ‘True Alpha McCall’ when they were around other packs or supernatural groups. Eyes had rolled so hard, they all nearly went blind.
Finally, his phone dinged two hours later. It was a text from Brett with an attachment and a single word.
Watch.
He felt nauseous. Oh Goddess, this was going to be bad. Stomach swirling, he clicked on the video.
Brett had obviously recorded part of the meeting, the only view was Brett’s shoes as the phone rested on his leg. But Stiles could hear everything.
The talk opened awkwardly at Scott’s end, of course. None of the three had greeted Alpha Ito as they should, as Stiles had taught them. Multiple times. Liam did what Scott demanded and introduced him as True Alpha McCall. He heard Brett clear his throat over that one and knew his friend would have laughed in Scott’s face if they weren’t in a situation demanding proper protocol.
It was when they actually settled into what each pack wanted from the alliance and what they had to offer in return, that the trouble started.
The Ito Pack was huge. Over one hundred members stretched out over two counties. If they were signing up to help the McCall Pack with any enemies or even pack war, they wanted a portion of the McCall pack lands. McCall, having less than ten pack members, couldn’t even patrol their territory boundaries without driving.
Scott started huffing and refusing to hand over any of the land. Satomi was straight with him and told him the land was the deal breaker. Either they got some of the territory or they wouldn’t be allies. The McCall Pack really had nothing to offer other than land. They weren’t a powerful force to call on during conflicts.
“Is there any chance we can talk to Emissary Apprentice Stiles Stilinski?” Alpha Ito asked calmly. “I have spoken with him before, as have other packs and I think the rapport I have with him might benefit our negotiations.”
Stiles’ stomach dropped. Oh fuck. Malia was probably on the edge of attack now, seeing this as ‘disrespecting’ her alpha. Poor Liam probably didn’t know how to handle this. There was silence and Stiles could hear Scott clear his throat and the sound of claws on wood.
“Look, Satomi, I love and respect Stiles. He is a huge part of the pack. But I am the fucking pack. That’s something I was really looking forward to; showing the supernatural world that I want to be respected as being able to carry this shit alone,” he growled then huffed. “Not alone, I have my pack and they’re great. But this is my thing, not Stiles’, and I’ve earned that respect. So, either talk to me or our negotiations are done,” Scott said, anger and entitlement clear in every word.
Stiles facepalmed. This didn’t really happen. This was all a joke, right?
Fuck.
Without a single pause, Satomi gave her final word. “Well then, thank you for coming Alpha McCall, we appreciate your time and wish you and your pack health and safety under the blessing of Mother Moon. Good day.”
Stiles could hear chairs moving and a door opening.
“What the fuck? That’s it? She’s done?” Scott demanded.
“Alpha Ito has called an end to the meeting, yes. Let me show you to the door,” Brett said politely. The phone became muffled as his hand covered it.
It was clear in the background, however, as Scott continued to whine and rage. “Fucking Stiles. Why the hell would she want to talk to Stiles and not me? I am the fucking true alpha, not him. This isn’t the first time people have brought him up. I think Stiles’ time in the McCall pack has come to an end.” Scott’s voice faded as they left the packhouse.
The video ended and Stiles put his phone down, staring out his apartment window at downtown Washington, DC.
Ten minutes later found him still staring out the window. His phone dinged and his stomach twisted once more.
You are out of the pack. There are packs here who refuse to deal with you and it’s affecting all my negotiations. You’re a bad rep for the McCall Pack. I AM the fucking pack, Stiles, not you. Do not contact any of us again. You may want to just stay in DC. - True Alpha Scott McCall.
Stiles sighed and wiped his face. He forwarded Scott’s text to his dad, Brett and Derek. To his dad and Derek, he added that this was said directly after an alliance negotiation where the alpha had requested to speak with Stiles instead of Scott. Of course, he added the ‘I AM the pack’ comment. It was too priceless to not share. His dad and Derek would love it.
Within minutes, his phone dinged. Again. And again.
Jesus Christ, son. He’s an absolute ass. How full of yourself can you be to talk like that! And kick you out of the pack on top of it? Fuck him and fuck the pack. You live where you want to live. I’m retiring soon and Melissa and I can follow you. - Dad
His dad was the awesomest Dad to ever awesome. He loved his dad’s utter commitment to him as a son, emissary, and FBI supervisory special agent. Stiles was always supported 100%. It humbled him too. Not everyone had a dad like him. It made him treasure every word they shared.
I’ve heard the weather in Uruguay is pretty great. I have a passport. - Dad
His dad. The smartass man who saw too much. Again, utter support. The fact that he mentioned bringing Melissa told stories about how Melissa was currently feeling about Scott.
Replying to his dad, he asked him to go to Scott’s house and collect any of his books he might have left there. They were his and he had paid, bartered or traded for them. His dad told him he’d take Parrish with him, both in uniform, just in case Scott showed attitude.
Ding.
Wow. I knew he was full of himself, but damn, the absolute arrogance and gall you have to have to say all that! “I am the pack”? I don’t think so. I think you’ve been the pack for years, Stiles. You’re not close with most of them. Screw the pack and screw Beacon Hell. - Always, Derek
Derek got it. He’d seen Scott and his attitude since the very first time they’d met. Derek had really tried to mentor Scott, but the alpha never could connect with him even as Derek tried to share the positive and traditional aspects of life as a werewolf.
Ding.
You know what, you should just come here. You’re almost done in DC, and you’ve mentioned a vacation more than once. Make it an extended vacation. I know Eli would love to meet you in person. You’d qualify for a ton of jobs here. If not with official business, then with the supernatural community which is very strong down here. You know my doors are always open to you. Let me know. I’ll get some homemade curly fries ready for you and Eli. Thanks for that by the way. Do you know how many potatoes I’ve gone through for this child? - Always, Derek
Derek. Stiles loved how all his texts ended with Always. It made his heart flutter. His heart then pounded for another reason. Derek’s doors were always open. Stiles got that. His front door and hopefully he meant his bedroom door as well. Walking to his office, he checked on his passport and began looking into work visas for Uruguay.
Ding.
Dude. It was hilarious. As soon as they drove away, all of us just busted up. Even Satomi! I AM the pack. He’s so far up his own ass, he’s choking on his own shit. Sorry man, I know you wanted the alliance, but it’s just not going to happen. - Brett
Stiles chuckled. It would have been fun to be a fly on the wall during that meeting. Good grief.
Going about his daily routine, his mind kept going between Scott kicking him out of the pack and Derek inviting him down.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t as upset about the pack as he thought he would. It was like he was waiting to get mad or sad that nearly nine years of being in a werewolf pack was over. Kicked out by his supposed best friend. These days he considered Derek his best friend. And maybe more. Okay, fine. He was in love with Derek Hale and had been for nearly a decade. It was time to see where life led them. If Eli could accept and care for Stiles, then being with Derek would be easy. If he and Eli couldn’t click in person, Stiles would willingly have to step aside. He would never ask Derek to have him as a partner if Stiles didn’t connect with his son. Eli was the priority. To both of them.
Two days later, he was done packing up his apartment and putting everything but his clothes and precious magical texts in storage.
Hey Derek. I’ll be in the area tomorrow. Any chance I can drop by? - Stiles.
Stiles lugged his suitcases to the taxi waiting for him.
Ding.
Only if you plan to stay for a while. - Always, Derek.
I have no return ticket. - Stiles.
Ding.
See you tomorrow. Just an FYI. I’m planning on kissing you, so be prepared. Send me your flight info and I’ll pick you up. - Always, Derek
Finally seeing Derek with Eli almost caused him to awwwww himself to death. He and Eli clicked, and the little guy was riding on Stiles’ shoulders by the time he’d pulled his luggage into Derek’s house.
Oh, and the airport kiss?
Utter perfection.
Derek WAS the fucking guru of kissing.
Fucking.
Yep, he was the guru of that, too.
Epilogue
Stiles and Eli got on like they’d been buddies forever. They spent hours together playing and exploring the packlands. It wasn’t difficult to love Derek’s little boy and Stiles fell hard. He especially loved the cuddling they got at the end of the day, Eli deciding Stiles’ lap was the best for reading before bed. He even ‘had to’ give good night hugs and kisses, which turned Stiles into a mushy pile of love. Derek teased him, but Stiles could tell he loved the affection growing between his partner and son. Yep, they were now official partners! He wouldn't go into how many times they heard "it's about time".
Stiles took quickly to life in Uruguay, quickly finding work and a place in the supernatural community. Cora's little girl was adorable and loved to toddle after Stiles and Eli. Shock upon shock, Peter was a new dad! Of little blue-eyed twin boys. He named them Matteo and Sebastien. He should have named them Trouble One and Trouble Two. Served him right, having two of himself. The world was in for it.
Stiles might have taught Eli about pranks. Maybe. He couldn’t help it; his little buddy had the best ideas. Eli thought Stiles was hilarious and loved to be in the thick of all sorts of mischief.
Speaking of…
On a random day, Stiles had a question with an unbelievable answer.
“Derek, I remember you mentioned Eli’s middle initial is M, what does it stand for?”
Derek blushed and looked at him with a soft smile.
“Mischief.”