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Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf || Steter || The Clever One || Steter || Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf

Title: The Clever One – How Stiles Beauty-and-the-Beast-ed Peter Hale

TW Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Jeff Davis and MTV. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.

Tags: m/m, Alpha Peter, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave, Pack Mom Stiles, Pack Feels, True Mates, Spark Stiles, magic, fluff, hurt/comfort, slow-burn, m/f

Main Pairing: Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Scott/Allison, Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia

Teen Wolf Characters: Peter Hale, Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Danny Mahealani, Sheriff Stilinski

Summary: A rewrite of season 2 with Alpha Peter. Peter had called Stiles the clever one but Stiles wasn't sure if Peter realized how true that was, because that was the day Stiles figured out that he was Peter's mate. The reason why Peter never harmed him when he had no qualms maiming and killing others. Stiles decides to use his new position as Alpha Mate to his advantage, to shape the new Hale Pack and to make Peter work hard to earn Stiles as his mate.

The Clever One

How Stiles Beauty-and-the-Beast-ed Peter Hale

Chapter 1: The Alpha Mate

The first time Peter and Stiles talked – really talked not just a brief acknowledgment of Stiles' existence in the hospital hall before Derek could come barreling in – Peter had called Stiles 'the clever one', but Stiles wondered if Peter really knew just how true that was. Because that day was the day Stiles figured it out. Figured Peter out.

Because his best friend was a werewolf and Stiles, being Stiles, had poured his everything into researching werewolves. He'd come across the concept of mates a couple of times, to varying degrees romanticized like it was a fairy tale for children. But enough sources seemed legitimate and resonated with what Stiles had observed between Scott and Allison to make him realize that nope, this one was real, werewolves actually had soulmates they recognized upon first meeting.

The way Scott had heard Allison from the moment she got to their school, how in-tune he was with her right away, just how quickly and hard they both fell in love with each other, how Scott – even when he was willing to threaten and hurt Stiles – never could lay a hand on Allison, how Allison calmed him down when nothing else could. That wasn't just love. If love could anchor like that then damn it all to hell Stiles could have been Scott's anchor – if not romantic, they did love each other some fiercely, and these things should not differentiate between romantic and platonic love. But it wasn't about love, it was the mate-bond that anchored Scott.

The evidence was glaringly obvious in every single interaction Stiles has had with Peter. He would have to be an idiot to not put it together. And he wasn't an idiot. He was the clever one.

Even feral and driven by instincts, Peter had only bitten Scott. Not Stiles. Even though he had been lurking about, could have bitten them both that night but had waited until Stiles was gone. Was safe. Because he couldn't force the bite onto Stiles, couldn't intentionally hurt Stiles.

The way he'd ever so slowly approached Stiles in the hospital, when Stiles realized Peter was the Alpha. Near taunting him, with no intention to harm or kill, even though if it had been what he wanted, the werewolf could have rushed over to him in a split-second and killed or bitten him.

And how he had mauled Lydia. Lydia – Stiles' date for the night – but when Stiles begged for her life, to be allowed to send someone to get her help, Peter had allowed it. Had then kidnapped Stiles with no bodily harm coming to Stiles at all, which stood in even greater contrast to the state he'd left Lydia in. Like Peter was incapable of hurting Stiles, something further proven by Peter's nurse dead in the trunk of the car. The woman who'd aided Peter, so easy to be discarded, to be killed, once she was no longer useful. Yet he didn't kill Stiles, not even after Stiles fulfilled his use. No, all Peter did was bent Stiles' keys. Didn't even harm the Jeep, much less the Stiles.

And he'd offered Stiles the bite. Offered. Not forced on him. Backed off when Stiles said no.

Offered, because Stiles was the clever one, because he regretted not turning Stiles. But the clever one knew to put all these bits and pieces into context and looking at the evidence, it was impossible for Stiles not to see the truth behind it all. He was Peter Hale's mate.

Derek was quick to switch onto Peter's side. His only living family. His Alpha.

Stiles was… doubtful. Reluctant. Confused. He found himself talking more with Allison, about her and Scott. Couldn't believe he willingly exposed himself to that, considering he already had to hear it all from Scott's side. But what he wanted wasn't the wolf side, he wanted to hear what the human side of a mate-bond felt. Because it was clear that Allison also felt something, not the same level as Scott, the same instinctual bond, but she had fallen as hard and as deep in as short a time.

"As nice as this was, and it really was," Allison smiled a little, tilting her head. "Why did you ask?"

"I don't…" Stiles licked his lips. "If Scott did something bad, would you still love him?"

"Yes," Allison looked as surprised by the quickness of her reply as Stiles. "But… I don't think he would? I mean, you know him better than me. I think that if he ever did something bad, it would be because there was no other way, because it was to prevent a greater evil from happening? And I think that he would suffer from it too, from having done something bad, so I would want to be… there for him? If that makes sense?"

And it did. Because Scott was not Peter. Scott was this pure puppy-dog of a man who believed in second chances and in the good in people and in better solutions. Peter believed in violence, an eye for an eye. He was manipulative and cut-throat and Stiles was a bit afraid of how much of himself he saw in that approach. He too was manipulative and he had no qualms using violence for payback. Heck, he didn't even necessarily think Peter was wrong for wanting the people dead who killed his entire family. What Stiles was however hung up on were Laura, Scott and Lydia.

/break\

Stiles walked into the broken, burned out husk of the Hale House like he owned the place. Just to be stopped by a hand on his chest and blue eyes flashing at him from Derek's annoyed face.

"What are you doing here, Stiles," Derek growled.

"I'm here to talk to your glorious Alpha," Stiles tilted his head with an uncaring air.

He was not going to let Derek threaten him. Sure, in the past his heart would jump and he would be afraid, even if he still helped Derek out. Right now, Stiles was fully confident in his own safety. Derek narrowed his eyes in irritation, smelling or hearing that Stiles wasn't intimidated.

"You fought him, in the hospital. You fought him to protect me," Stiles argued with a frown. "He killed your sister, Derek. Why did you join him?"

"You wouldn't understand," Derek was close to snarling.

"Try me," Stiles threw up his hands. "I understand a lot more than you think."

This time, Derek did snarl. Just to receive a warning growl from upstairs. A cocky grin spread over Stiles' lips. He'd known the Alpha was here too. He'd known that as long as Peter was close by, Derek wouldn't get to do any threatening or bodily harm. The beta ground his teeth and stepped back. Hah. Oh, Stiles was absolutely going to revel in the fact that he now outranked Derek. Alpha Mate beat out the Alpha's right-hand. His grin turned a note of shit-eating.

"He was in a coma for six years. Slowly healing. Aware of everything around him. You couldn't understand what that is like for a wolf, especially…" Derek swallowed hard, looking away. "Everyone was dead, me and Laura were gone. He was alone with it all."

"He went insane," Stiles nodded. "I feel like we established the insanity part in the hospital. You fought him in the hospital. I want to know what changed since then."

"He's still healing," Derek's voice dropped even more. "He wasn't fully healed when he killed Laura, he was… feral. Acting on instincts. Seeking to get better. Becoming Alpha… did that."

Stiles could hear it. He could hear the despair in Derek's voice. Stiles closed his eyes and heaved a soft sigh. Asking Derek was useless, Derek desperately wanted to believe this. Because what was the other option? That his only living family had willingly, or even joyfully, murdered Derek's sister? No. Of course did Derek cling onto the hope that things could get better now.

"Okay," Stiles sighed. "You can go now, Derek."

The beta stared at him incredulously. "You don't tell me what to do, Stiles. Werewolf, human. We established this. Why do you think you can tell me what to do, in my own home."

With all the confidence he could muster did Stiles raise his head, not cowering, holding Derek's gaze with a calm pulse. "Because Alpha Mate outranks right-hand."

And oh this felt good. Stiles smirked cockily. Even as a not werewolf, he could feel the tension in the air. The shocked look on Derek's face – genuine shock, meaning Derek hadn't put it together yet and Peter hadn't told him, oh damn, Derek hadn't even known. A laugh barked out from upstairs.

"I knew you would figure it out on your own. I didn't think so soon though," Peter sounded both amused and nearly fond. "Leave us, Derek."

Grounding his teeth together, Derek shot his uncle one last look before he headed out. Peter only walked into view at the top of the stairs after they could hear the Camaro roar to life and drive off.

"Tell me that he's right," Stiles ordered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell me that you are still healing. Getting better. Because, you know, the bit where you mauled one of my best friends-"

"She was all over you," Peter growled, his eyes flashing red. "You were all over her."

Stiles swallowed, the cockiness cracking some. Not because the growling and red eyes intimidated him, but because of how much they turned him on. No one had ever been possessive over him. Heck, no one had ever been interested in him. Sure, Lydia had gone to Homecoming with him in the end, but that had been more coercion from Allison and pity than Lydia actually wanting him. Lydia still wanted Jackson. Still loved Jackson. Might always love Jackson.

Peter cleared his throat, all calm and professional again. "I am still healing. The outside heals the fastest, it's… the inside that needs more time, even with wolf-healing. A large part of me is still very… feral and reduced to base instincts. I attacked her because my inner wolf felt threatened by her, threatened by the way she was making advances on my mate."

Stiles' heart jumped a little at that. So he had figured it out, but actually hearing himself referred to as Peter's mate was something else entirely than figuring it out on his own, for himself. Stiles bit down on his cheek, his arms tightly crossed in front of his chest. Part of him was grateful Peter was still at the top of the stairs. Physical distance between them. This whole conversation was a lot. Though Stiles had come to the realization that he was Peter's mate, he had not fully come to terms with that fact. He didn't know what to do with it, or what it could or should or would mean.

"I'm not going to do anything to you," Peter's voice was soft, which might be the weirdest part of this entire conversation. "Or with you. Not yet. You're more child than man, Stiles. But I can already tell why my wolf chose you as my mate. You are clever. Brilliant. Tricky. Manipulative. Cunning. Quick-witted. All the qualities I cherish the most."

Stiles couldn't help but flush at that. "Yeah, well, don't make it sound like that's your grand gesture there, I am not exactly tripping over myself trying to get into your pants either. You turned my best friend into a werewolf, without his consent – even though you proved that you are capable of asking for it when you asked me if I wanted the bite – and you mauled Lydia. I'm not considering you Prince Charming. And from what my research showed, a werewolf mate-bond is something that strengthens and grows over time. So, I guess, you still have time to prove yourself."

Peter quirked his lips, looking absolutely amused by him. "Prove myself, mh?"

"Again. Maiming and mauling of people I love," Stiles narrowed his eyes. "You say you don't want anything romantic or sexual with me yet, but this mate-bond thing is a life-long bond. At one point, you will. Because you're the wolf here. You can feel it. So, if you want me to be on the same page by then, you better prove yourself to me."

The grin on Peter's lips looked near amazed or excited and Stiles didn't know what to do with that. It was like the Alpha enjoyed being challenged, enjoyed that Stiles wasn't just swooning at the prospect of having a soulmate, but gave Peter conditions to earn it. Weird.

"You've seen what I'm capable of," and it was clearly implied here that Peter didn't just speak of his werewolf abilities but morally, the depth of the things he was willing to do. "So tell me then, what do you think you can demand of me?"

"What I think I can demand of you? Pretty much anything, as long as it's about me," Stiles huffed amused, cocking his head. "You can't hurt me. I mean, physically can't. And I think that… even emotionally, you couldn't, not intentionally. Heck, part of me thinks that you turning Scotty was for me, in a twisted, weird way, because your wolf could smell me all over him, thought it would appeal to me if you had my best friend in your pack. And Lydia. You attacked her irrationally, feral and threatened, but when I asked you to let someone come and help her, you agreed. Because you saw how much her condition was getting to me. I think I can ask pretty much anything of you."

"Manipulative," Peter pointed out, and he sounded proud and impressed and pleased. "Well, then."

"You will never lay a hand on anyone I love again," Stiles eyes were hard and his voice was cold, his body-language conveying how serious he was. "Not my dad, not Scott, not Scott's mom, not Lydia. Reign your possessive wolf instincts in. She's not interested in me anyway. If you ever hurt any of them again, I will put a wolfsbane bullet in you myself."

"Threatening," Peter smirked. "Cute."

"I'm not joking," Stiles frowned annoyed. "I'm the sheriff's son. I know how to use a gun. And I know where to get wolfsbane bullets from."

The playfulness left Peter when he realized that Stiles needed to be taken seriously here. "Okay. Noted down. I don't plan on hurting my pack anyway. Of which Scott is a part of now, whether he likes it or not. And Lydia, well, the cuts were deep so who knows if she will end up joining my pack too. Your father is safe, I promise you that."

There was still quip and snark in his voice, but that last sentence was spoken with sincerity and Stiles nodded pleased. "No more turning anyone without their consent. Scott hates this, hates being a werewolf, if he'd had a choice he would have said no. I get that a pack of three isn't going to do you much good, I know you're going to turn more people, strengthen the pack. But everyone you bite will first be informed of both the good and the bad, they will be given a choice, and that choice is going to be respected by you. The way you gave me a choice, and respected it."

"I have no problem with that condition," Peter waved a dismissive hand. "Scott is more trouble than he is gain to me, as is. A beta who doesn't want to be a werewolf is not an asset to the pack. Betas who are loyal to their Alpha, who will be willing to listen to their inner wolves, will be assets. I only turned him out of instinct, the need to strengthen my pack while not being… mentally there enough to actually think things through. Believe me, I will plan out my pack in the future."

"Our," Stiles corrected unflinchingly. "Alpha Mate. Makes this my pack too, doesn't it?"

The look on Peter's face was nearly smug with delight. "Our pack."

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Stiles nodded slowly to himself. Good. This was going better than expected. He had known he could ask anything of Peter, but he had still somehow expected resistance. Protest. Even annoyance, to be honest. After all, Peter was stuck with an obnoxious, loud-mouthed sixteen year old as his mate. Part of Stiles had thought Peter would be annoyed.

"I'll not stop killing," Peter offered as the silence between them stretched on. "If that's going to be your next condition. I'm not done. I will not stop."

"I won't ask you to."

At that, Peter's head snapped over to stare at him in genuine surprise. "What."

Turning his head, Stiles avoided looking at the Alpha. "They killed your entire family. Adults and children alike. Everyone you loved. Trapped you in your own body for years. They deserve it. The ones who did it. I will demand that you stop killing innocent people though. Like your nurse. Reign it in. Channel your anger and murderous tendencies toward those who deserve it."

When Stiles looked up again, he saw a strange expression on Peter's face at the word 'deserve'. Like he couldn't believe that Stiles would deem anyone deserved it. Well, he wasn't Scott. He didn't have that same belief in second chances and the goodness of every person. Someone who trapped an entire family in their home and set it aflame without hesitation didn't deserve better. Though a part of Stiles suspected that the viciousness in his mind might also be linked to the mate-bond, may be Peter's feelings bleeding through, or represent Stiles' own ties to Peter's pain.

"Very well," Peter tilted his head, looking pleased with himself. "I… will not kill those who don't deserve it, then. As long as you don't try to stop me from killing those who do deserve it."

Stiles nodded, sharply. Pleased with this agreement. They'd covered everything that Stiles deemed important. If Peter could adhere to these rules – well, honestly, Stiles didn't know. Right now, looking at the other man, Stiles really didn't know. Peter was handsome, sure. Stiles didn't mind the age-gap, maybe it was even kind of hot. He was disturbed by how attractive he found the decisiveness and even the ruthlessness. Yes, Stiles was aware that he was a manipulative bastard himself, and he found that quality attractive in others – always had, as proven by his long-time crush on Lydia Martin. Stiles couldn't tell what may happen in months, a year, who knew how long. It all really did depend on what Peter was going to do next.

/break\

Peter smiled pleased to himself as he sat on the armchair in the burned out remains of the Hale library, holding a glass of wine. Derek was still out, probably fuming about the fact that a loud-mouthed, flailing teenager now outranked him. Stiles on the other seemed to love that. And Peter found that delightful. He found a lot of things about Stiles delightful.

When he'd realized his mate was sixteen and human, he thought the fates just weren't done punishing him yet. Still, he kept observing Stiles, watched the way this human with no prior knowledge of the supernatural world absorbed knowledge, managed to teach Scott control over his wolf quicker and more effective than Peter had seen some born wolves do. Figure things out that even born wolves struggled with, like the mate-bond – those who didn't find their own yet often didn't understand what the bond really meant, yet Stiles had seen Scott and Allison and understood. Stiles figured things out, solved problems. He had a brilliant mind. And even more so, he had an unwavering loyalty, was fiercely protective of those he loved and would fight tooth and nail for them. Oh, to be so lucky to be counted among those, Peter's inner wolf whispered.

This was his mate. This brilliant, clever, loyal and also manipulative human was his mate. And that last one, that Peter had really thrilled at. Stiles wasn't soft and sweet, he was vicious and violent and not even above hurting those he loved himself if he saw a need for it.

Every little bit he learned about Stiles made the human more appealing to Peter and his wolf. Finally, he understood what mates really were. Not about some fairy tale love, but about finding someone who was compatible, who completed and complimented them. Stiles was his.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Revenge and a New Start

Ironically, the conversation Stiles actually dreaded was not the one with Peter. There had been a weird sense of knowing nothing would happen – not to him, not with Peter. This though, this was going to be a different conversation. This could potentially lose him his best friend.

"Okay. What do you want, Stiles," Scott sounded wary, even as he spoke around hamstered cheeks full of bacon. "You cooked super unhealthy delicious food. Which means you're trying to bribe me. Or soften the blow. What is it, Stiles, you're making me nervous."

"We… We have to join the Hale Pack, Scotty."

Ripping it off, like a band-aid. Scott actually choked on the bacon, coughing violently and then glaring up at Stiles in confused betrayal. Stiles took a piece of bacon himself to munch.

"What the fuck, dude," Scott was still coughing. "Why the fuck, dude."

"Because you're a werewolf now, Scott," Stiles heaved a sigh. "There is no cure. Derek said there may be a cure, because there's always rumors and myths. But there isn't one, it's not real. I've done the research, Scotty. You are a werewolf and we will have to adjust to that."

A long stretch of defiant silence. "But… But even then, we don't have to join his pack."

"Oh yeah? Then whose pack would you like to join?" Stiles gave him an incredulous look. "Not like there's a wide array of werewolf packs to choose from in Beacon Hills, buddy."

"None!" Scott growled. "You, me, Allison, we're enough, I don't need more."

Stiles groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Scotty, Scotty I love you, but… You're a werewolf. Me and Allison are human. We… Sure, we can join a pack, but a pack needs an Alpha and it needs betas. You can't be the sole werewolf in a pack, especially not when you're a beta."

"So what. We'll be fine," Scott continued to pout defiantly.

Man, Peter really had not done himself a favor by turning Scott. He had also not done Stiles a favor by turning Scott. Heaving yet another sigh, Stiles rubbed his face, looking at Scott with pleading eyes. Scott wavered ever so slightly at the sincerity and desperation in his friend's face.

"I mean it, Scott," Stiles' voice was soft but serious. "You can't be a lone wolf. Werewolves go mad without a pack. That's… That's what happened to Peter. His family died, the only other survivors, Derek and Laura, left after the fire and he was all alone, without a pack. A werewolf without a pack goes feral and loses their mind. I love you, I can't let that happen to you. You need a pack."

Glowering, Scott crossed his arms over his chest. "But not his pack."

"Again," Stiles tried not to sound too annoyed. "Not much to pick from there. But… But there's also… Scotty, like I said, he was… he was feral, he'd lost his mind. That's not an excuse for the way he turned you. I'm not trying to excuse his actions, I'm trying to explain. Recently, he's been getting better. You have to see that too. He was a feral beast when he attacked you, when he attacked Lydia and Jackson at the video store. Now he's more man than beast and he keeps getting better with every day. I can make him better."

"...What," Scott blinked repeatedly. "What does that mean."

"Remember how I explained you and Allison to you?" Stiles asked, bracing himself. "That your love is more than just love, that you're mates, because werewolves have soulmates. Which, also. Look, not everything werewolf-y is bad. You wouldn't have this special bond with Allison if you were human, you may be dating but you wouldn't have that deep connection."

Predictably, there was a sappy, dopey grin on Scott's face at the mention of Allison, just for him to then frown. "Wait. What does that have to do with anything."

"I'm Peter's Allison," Stiles winced. "Okay, that sounded so wrong. I just. I'm his mate. I can make him better, I know it. A better Alpha. He is getting better, Scott. And if you and me join his pack, I would be able to reign him in more. I… I'm not asking you to trust him, Scott. I'm asking you to trust me. I know I can do this. I know I can make a good pack for us."

Scott frowned at him, serious and thoughtful. At least he wasn't flat-out refusing. Stiles didn't know what had swayed him more. Stiles' request for trust, or the reminder of how special what Scott and Allison had was, and that Stiles could have that too – as dubious as even Stiles was about the idea of having that 'puppy love' at all, much less with Peter Hale. Actually, the thought of Peter being as lovey-dovey with him as Scott was with Allison made him snort softly to himself.

"If he ever even looks at Allison like he wants to hurt her-"

"He won't," Stiles interrupted him, lifting his hands up. "The first condition I gave him was that he will not hurt those I love. Hurting Allison hurts you."

"Why are you so convinced that that he'll listen to you…?"

"I… I can't explain it," Stiles sighed softly. "The way you know you and Allison are meant to be, right? I just… I'm not saying I'm in love with him or anything but I just know that… that there's a connection? I know he won't hurt me, I know it."

And he did. He was fully convinced of this, like an undeniable fact. Part of Stiles was scared of that, of just how much trust he had in Peter. Another part of him was thrilled by that, thrilled by the bond that he could feel, as faint as it was. He'd talked to Allison about this, she said that she could feel the bond too, it had grown stronger the longer it went on and only after Stiles and Scott gave her a name for it could she identify what it really was. Stiles was excited to have that too. And that excitement also scared him, because he was aware of what Peter had done. Of who and what Peter was. Still, he was excited to have this and he was convinced that he could… do something. Not make Peter a good person, he knew that wasn't going to happen. But stop the senseless attacks on the innocent, stop him from turning people who didn't want it.

"What…" Scott crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "What's your plan?"

Stiles beamed at his best friend. "Okay, so. First, we actually really do need to work together, against our common enemy. The evil Argents. Obviously excluding Allison. Allison's aunt and… I'm not sure about how far gone her parents are, to be honest. But Kate Argent needs to go."

"Stiles-" Scott made a displeased noise.

"She trapped their entire family. Grandparents, parents, children. Children, Scotty," Stiles frowned. "She has no morals. She wants all werewolves dead. She's not going to stop until the Hales and you are dead. Peter is going to kill here, there is no way around it. We can… We should work with him. And once the immediate threat to all of our safety is taken care of, we work on our pack."

Scott ground his teeth together at Stiles' easy dismissal of murder – but was it really murder, it felt more like self-defense. That woman had shot Derek in cold-blood unprovoked with a poisoned bullet that had nearly killed him. She'd kidnapped and tortured Derek for fun. On top of the Hale fire that she had caused. Scott glared at him defiantly and waited for him to continue.

"Pack is… Pack is important for wolves, Scotty," Stiles spoke softly. "The Alpha protects their pack. Should protect their pack. Like said, temporary insanity and feralness. We're getting past this. A pack helps each other, protects each other. The way you and I do. Please, give it a chance. Give forming pack-bonds a chance. And if you… if you still don't think you need a pack, after a month – a month – then I'll… I'll back you up, I'll help you find a different solution. But I need you to genuinely give the pack a chance, okay?"

Scott squirmed in his seat, frowning. "A month?"

"A month," Stiles nodded seriously. "One month and if you don't see the benefits of pack and don't see that there's any significant improvement in Peter, I'll choose you."

Something in Stiles' chest twisted in an unpleasant, nearly painful manner. He rubbed at his chest. But his words were sincere. Not just for Scott's sake. If in one month's time, he couldn't see genuine improvement in Peter, then he would have to cut his losses. He had to.

/break\

So Jackson? Had not been part of Stiles' plan. But when they'd both been visiting Lydia at the hospital, they got cornered by Chris – at whom Stiles yelled about Kate and her murderous nature. Knowing that the hunters were on the move though, Stiles knew his pack was in danger. And since Jackson was right there, with him, and had a car, because Stiles still couldn't use his car, since his keys were still bent (Stiles made a note to bitch at Peter about that one and get him to get Stiles a new key to his Jeep). It was weirdly easy to make Jackson drive him to the Hale property.

There were dead hunters on the ground and Stiles got a little terrified of himself by how easily he could side-step the bodies and stride into the ale House with purpose, finding Peter with his clawed hands wrapped around Kate Argent's throat, his eyes flashing red. In front of them stood Allison, sobbing and covering her mouth as she realized what her aunt had done.

"Peter!" Stiles called out, voice sharp. "Stop!"

A growl, a dark and displeased one, eyes flashing at him in warning. That just made Stiles roll his eyes at his mate, while he took Allison, wrapping his arms around her.

"Not in front of Allison," Stiles whispered, so low he knew the wolf could hear it but nobody else could. "You know what it's like to watch your family die. Don't do that to her. Wait."

A breathy huff, but Peter waited until Stiles had pulled Allison out of the house, even with her protests. It was going to be hard work to justify this to her, but this woman was absolutely unhinged and dangerous and she had it coming. Allison loved Scott, protecting Scott ought to be reason enough to make her come around eventually. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and hugged Allison closely when he heard the satisfied roar of his Alpha. Stiles smoothed down Allison's hair.

"She tried to fucking kill us," Scott came stumbling into the clearing, eyes wide. "She was hunting Derek and me. Shooting at us. If Derek hadn't…"

Stiles locked eyes with his friend, watching Scott realize something. If Scott had been on his own, he might have died. Derek had, once again, saved his life. Because that was what pack did. Hopefully, Scotty would keep realizing these things. Stiles needed him to come to terms with this.

"Scotty," Stiles called out softly. "C'mere. Comfort your mate. I gotta go talk to mine."

There was a complicated expression on Scott's face at Stiles so casually referring to Peter as his mate but oh well that was what it was. If he wanted to own his role as Alpha Mate in this pack, he had to also own being Peter's mate. And Scott definitely needed to get more comfortable with it.

Once Allison was in Scott's arms, clinging onto her boyfriend and crying into his chest about the woman who had become a mentor and friend to her, her aunt, Stiles first went back to Jackson's car, where a startled Jackson was still standing and staring. He grabbed something and returned into the house, finding Peter covered in blood and with a satisfied, manic expression on his face. Damn, that should not be as hot as it was. Stiles shifted slightly, adjusting himself. A dark growl came from Peter, purely primal. Werewolf smelling his mate's arousal. Not embarrassing at all.

"Bring her out. Back though, Ally doesn't need to see it," Stiles instructed.

Peter raised a curious and amused eyebrow at him but he obliged, with Stiles following close behind. He was clinging tightly onto the thing he had brought. Derek was walking behind them, now that him and Scott had arrived at the scene too.

"I… don't know how comfortable you two are going to be with what's next."

"We're werewolves, Stiles. I think we have stronger stomachs than you. I've seen you faint."

Stiles turned to glower at Derek and his stupidly smug face. "I've grown as a person since then. Also, surprisingly, murderous people's blood on Peter looks hot."

A wicked grin spread over Stiles' lips as that did the trick to make Derek look absolutely uncomfortable and grossed out. Served him right. Stiles was going to have so much fun with this. Peter cleared his throat where he stood over Kate Argent's dead body.

"It's not about blood and gore," Stiles clarified at his mate's look, lifting up the liquor bottle. "I'm gonna burn her body, just to make sure she can't come back. I've been reading about resurrection spells and necormancy, but even beside that, you told me yourself that Alpha claws digging deep enough into flesh can turn people. The last thing we need is Kate Argent as a zombie or a werewolf seeking revenge on our pack. Besides, fire seems poetic."

He knew the smile on his lips was wicked and twisted as he looked at his mate. In that moment, he knew that he was feeling the mate-bond. Sure, he was a violent little shit and he could take joy in it – he'd thoroughly enjoyed hitting Scott with lacrosse balls to teach him a lesson too – but this felt different. One last time, he looked up at the Hales, giving them a chance to walk away before there would be fire. They remained, watching him curiously. He lit a match.

"You're right, darling," Peter's voice was a purr. "That is poetic."

Despite his words, Stiles could see the tenseness in Peter's body. It took the Alpha everything he had not to run away from the flames, he was forcing himself to watch this, to delight in the end of Kate Argent. Stiles walked around the body and came to stand on Peter's other side. Carefully, he slipped his hand into Peter's, startling not just the Alpha but also himself. There was this urge to comfort his mate that had overcome him when he saw Peter tense.

"We gotta talk about our pack after this," Stiles whispered.

"Yes," Peter hummed curiously. "But for now, I'm enjoying the moment."

Stiles snorted softly, shaking his head. The longer they stood there, the more tired he grew, so he leaned his head against Peter's arm. Mh. That was a nice aftershave. Today had been exhausting. Only when all that remained were bones and the flames were slowly dying did the three of them head back into the house. Stiles followed, into what looked like the remains of an office of sorts. Peter went to sit on a charred chair behind a large, equally charred desk. Derek stood near the wall, his arms crossed, facing his uncle. Curious eyes wandered over the more or less bare room and in the end, Stiles decided to just sit down perched on the desk, earning a raised eyebrow from Peter.

"I'm not sitting on your lap," Stiles pointed out dryly.

There was a choked sound from Derek and the expression on Peter's face was somewhere between surprised, amused and… intrigued. Oh boy. Then, the Alpha chuckled and shook his head.

"That wasn't even where I was going with my look, I merely remembered just how much Talia hated anyone even touching this desk, but good to know," Peter paused. "Well, not good."

A blush colored Stiles' cheeks. "I mean, that is entirely up to you. Earn it."

"If this conversation doesn't change topics right now I am leaving."

"Oh, Derek, relax," Stiles rolled his eyes. "But yeah, actually. Our pack."

"I feel like there is more you want to say," Peter smiled, motioning 'go on' with one hand.

Stiles liked that. Liked the fact that Peter listened to him, wanted to listen to him. He was far too used to people rolling their eyes or getting annoyed by him talking too much.

"I talked to Scott," Peter raised one eyebrow at that. "He agreed to join the pack in a… probationary manner. Don't growl. He isn't like you. He wasn't born into a pack, he has no idea what pack even means. And all he got from both of you so far? Really fucking sucked. All the threatening and half-truths and the being bitten against his will. You gotta show him what being pack can and should mean. I'm going to bring him by so he can officially join the pack."

Peter leaned back in his chair, lounging on it like a king on a throne. If Stiles had to guess, this was the off-limits Alpha chair that Peter had craved to sit on even before the fire. Cute.

"Lydia," Stiles continued, then rolled his eyes at the predictable growl from Peter. "Down, boy. Lydia is going to join the pack. We don't know if what you did to her will turn her, but quite frankly, whether it does or not, she's pack to me, and to Scott. And she deserves to know the truth. So, we're going to tell her the truth as soon as she… wakes up… and is coherent."

"Do I get a say in that too?" Peter asked, eyebrows raised.

"This one? No," Stiles raised his own eyebrows, holding the Alpha's gaze. "You attacked her with the chance of turning her, so now she's your problem too. Deal with it."

Peter huffed out an amused laugh but he nodded regardless. "Fair enough, I suppose. Actions, consequences. Very boring. What else do you have for me, sweetheart?"

For a moment, Stiles paused, reluctant. "Allison isn't going to forgive this right away, but I do think that she will, eventually, realize how twisted and wrong her aunt was. She's Scott's mate. And one of the three friends I have. So… This is me, giving you a heads-up that you'll have to get used to the idea of an Argent being around and possibly, at one point, joining our pack."

Again with the predictable, displeased growling. "You can't hate all of the Argents for the actions of one crazy lady. I mean, judgment is still out on Allison's parents, I am… wary… of them, but Ally isn't like them. She's a kid, who didn't even know about any of this until she moved here. She hasn't been poisoned by years of indoctrination. All she needs is someone to teach her how things actually are. Besides, she is a werewolf's mate."

A defeated sigh. Victory for Stiles. He didn't even bother hiding his smug little smirk.

"So," Stiles cleared his throat. "That's our pack. For now. You, me, Derek over there glaring constipatedly at me, Scotty, Lydia and potentially Allison."

"Mh," Peter tilted his head. "It's a start, I suppose. But you realize I will turn others."

"Naturally," Stiles mirrored Peter, tilting his head in the other direction. "I do expect to get a heads-up though. I don't want to walk in here to growly newbies."

"Naturally," Peter echoed, a teasing smirk on his lips. "I wouldn't think of going over your head, Alpha Mate. We choose our pack together, mh?"

Stiles hummed, pleased with that, and let his eyes wander. "You know this isn't healthy though, right? Living in the burned out husk of your family home. This is also not a place to build something new. Think about where you want your pack to be."

And he deliberately left the possessive to Peter alone there. Because this was more about Talia's pack vs Peter's pack than anything else. This? Not only was it a drastic reminder of the worst thing that had ever happened to Peter and Derek, it was also a reminder of the old Hale Pack. If Peter wanted to build something new, something of his own, he couldn't do it here.

"You can go now, Derek," Stiles spoke softly, his eyes on Peter.

"If this is going to become a thing, you ordering me out of my own home-"

"Not an order, stop growling," Stiles rolled his eyes. "You just, earlier, said you wanted to leave if the conversation didn't change. Well, it's about to change again. You're free to stay and watch me and Peter talk about our mate-bond, if you want to… and he's gone. Heh."

Damn, Derek really high-tailed it out of the room there. This was going to be so much fun for Stiles on the long run. When he returned his attention to his mate, he found Peter looking at him curiously.

"What is it?" Peter asked, voice soft.

"I just…" Stiles swallowed hard, turning his eyes on his hands fidgeting on his lap. "Is… Is it always this intense? The mate-bond? When we last spoke, I felt… much cockier in my own control of the situation. But there is…"

"A pull to me?" Peter offered amused. "No, it's not always this intense. The fact that I'm an Alpha and not a beta makes it stronger, and the fact that you are ready to accept your role as the Alpha Mate within the pack also strengthens the bond. There's no Alpha Mate without a mate-bond."

"Ri—ight," Stiles turned his head slightly, unintentionally baring his throat to the Alpha.

Red eyes and a deep, hungry growl made him aware of his action. He blushed and adjusted himself.

"The bond will settle once we seal it," Peter assured him after a moment. "The pull is so strong because we're resisting it and it wants us together. Once we seal it, it will… even out."

Relief filled Stiles at that, because honestly, if this was his new normal, he didn't know if he could handle it. But then he would have to seal the bond and that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Congratulations, It's Puppies! (1)

Peter was still sitting in Talia's chair, in Talia's old office – their father's old office – when someone else came visit. He arched an eyebrow as a familiar scent filled his nose. The boy who'd driven Stiles to the Hale House earlier. The peculiar thing was that Peter didn't remember Stiles mentioning any other boy. The only ones whose safety Stiles had asked for, well demanded really, had been Scott, Allison, Lydia, Melissa and, naturally, his father. Yet this boy, his scent was also always vaguely around Stiles, he was the one Stiles had called to take care of Lydia, had trusted to take care of Lydia. So Peter remained seated and waited, curious.

It didn't take long for Derek to drag the blonde, freckled boy into the office, a scowl on his dear nephew's face. Peter didn't let that bother him, he simply smiled, bemused and patient. Derek gave the boy a last shove into Peter's direction, then crossed his arms and leaned against the door-frame.

"I want what Scott has," the boy spoke after a moment, after gathering his courage.

"You will have to be more precise," Peter furrowed his brows. "Failing grades? Stiles' loyalty? A tendency to complain? Daddy and authority issues due to an absent father?"

A snort came from Derek in the background and the boy glared at Peter. "I want to be a werewolf. I asked Derek, but he said you are the Alpha. Which means you can turn me."

Cocking an eyebrow, Peter glared at his nephew, who offered a carefree 'not my problem' kind of shrug. Oh no. Derek was turning back into the little shit he used to be before the fire. How insufferable (how achingly nostalgic). Snorting, Peter regarded the boy more closely. Strong, athletic, cock-sure. He could make a strong beta, perhaps. And the entanglement with Stiles made him all the more appealing. The best course of action to ensure Stiles would stay at his side, with this pack, was to build a pack around the people in Stiles' life.

"I am the one who can turn you," Peter confirmed, flashing his eyes red and offering a smile full of fangs. "However, I am not the one who decides who gets turned."

The boy frowned at him, then instinctively turned toward Derek. But Derek just barked out a laugh. A real laugh, sarcastic as it may be, it was the first time Peter heard his nephew laugh since before the fire. The way he laughed, at someone else's expense, reminded him of times when Derek would do anything to annoy his sister and if he got Laura in trouble, he'd gloat. There was an ugly, twisted feeling in Peter's chest at the memory of carefree times, of Derek and Laura.

"Oh, you're going to absolutely hate what he says next, Jackson," Derek declared amused.

/break\

Stiles watched warily how Jackson sat down opposite him. At this point in his life, Jackson Whittemore had become a fixed part of Stiles' lunch. But that was on account of Scott dating Allison who had befriended Lydia who was still unfortunately dating Jackson (hey, just because Stiles was over his infatuation with Lydia didn't mean he didn't want her to develop better taste). Considering that Lydia was still in the hospital and Allison had taken a leave of absence with her aunt's death (Stiles' mind was still working angles on how to smooth that one over), Jackson had no reason to sit with Stiles and Scott right now. He should be with Danny, or literally anyone else. Not to mention the very constipated look on Jackson's face as he stared directly at Stiles.

After a minute, Stiles caved and sighed. "Okay, what do you want."

"I went to see the Alpha," Jackson growled softly.

Oh, crap. Stiles' face scrunched up. Jackson hadn't exactly made a secret about wanting the Bite and considering the way Stiles had used Jackson as his personal Uber to Kate Argent's execution, there was no hiding where the Hales were or who was in charge. Stiles sighed and leaned back.

"So, what. Now you want to join Scotty's Werewolf 101 classes?"

The constipated look on Jackson's face intensified. "No. He didn't turn me."

Stiles cocked an eyebrow. Peculiar. Even Stiles thought Jackson would make the perfect werewolf.

"He said I needed your…" Jackson made a disgruntled sound. "Permission first."

Scott next to Stiles nearly died from swallowing his drink the wrong way, wheezing and coughing. Stiles clapped him half-heartedly on the back while a wicked grin spread over his lips. Okay. Sure, he'd asked Peter to get a heads up, but he hadn't expected Peter to want his permission. Taking a slow, deep breath, Stiles tuned down the smirk and offered a more serious expression.

"Did he explain it to you?" Stiles asked. "What the bite really means? That it may not take? That being a werewolf is dangerous, risky? The full moon, the hunters roaming our territory?"

Jackson seemed startled by this down-to-business side of Stiles, heck, even Scott looked surprised. Well, Stiles couldn't snark his way through being Alpha Mate if he wanted to be taken seriously.

"Yeah," Jackson answered after a moment. "After he told me that he'd only turn me if you… allowed… it, he gave me the whole spiel. I still want it."

Stiles raised an eyebrow at the determination in Jackson's voice. "Why? Give me a good reason. And don't make it your pissing contest with Scott, because that's not a reason to trade safety for being hunted, for losing control of yourself during the full moon, for potentially dying if it doesn't take. Beating Scott at Lacrosse isn't worth any of that."

There was a stretch of silence and Jackson looked so uncomfortable. "Well, out with it. You need my permission? Convince me why you want the bite."

"Pack," Jackson growled out with a frown. "Peter… Peter said pack means family. Trust, loyalty, relying on each other, having each other's backs. I want that. That's… That's what I really want."

Stiles wasn't sure if Jackson even noticed just how vulnerable his voice sounded with that statement. How genuine. It startled Stiles. This was a side of Jackson he'd never seen before, a side maybe only Lydia knew. A side the jock might be covering up with the asshole attitude.

"Okay," Stiles agreed after a moment, earning a startled whine from Scott. "You heard him, Scotty. He knows what he's signing up for. If he really wants it, and if he understands what pack means – and that it will mean he'll have to bring that same trust and loyalty to you and me – then okay."

Jackson still looked wary, as though he didn't fully believe Stiles. "Just like that. After-"

"Yeah," Stiles cut him off, waving a dismissive hand in a near playful manner, before offering Jackson the sharpest, coldest look he could muster. "But don't think you will ever get away with any of that bullshit again. I will not be pushed around or bullied in my own pack. If you sign up for this, you aren't just signing up for us being pack-mates. I'm the Alpha Mate. In this pack, I'm the co-captain. There is no debate about it, whatever you do, you are not the leader here, you are a follower, a beta, and I outrank you. Think carefully on that. And if you still want in, then meet Scott and me in the parking lot after school, we're driving out to the Hales anyway."

With a sharp nod did Jackson get up, leaving Scott and Stiles alone. As soon as Jackson was out of earshot did Scott slap Stiles on the chest, staring at him with the largest eyes.

"What the fuck, dude, you want Jackson in the pack? Why and how and why?"

"Three excellent questions, Scotty boy," Stiles grinned for a second before sobering up. "Because there was something to the look in his eyes when he said why he wants to be pack that I… believe."

Recognize. It was the haunted, lonely look he'd seen in his own mirror after his mother's death. Desperate to belong somewhere, to get a sense of family while his dad was drinking too much, his mom was six feet under and all of her family had left for Poland again. A bone-deep loneliness. That, that was a reason Stiles could understand, could relate to. Could accept.

/break\

Peter was sitting behind his father's desk, having given it a more or less thorough cleaning after his conversation with Stiles yesterday. His mate was right. The Hale House, as was, was not a place to be lived in and certainly not a place to build a pack. So Peter sat at the desk, with his laptop open, browsing apartment listings. He was not going to give up his land, but it would take time to rebuild. He'd already contacted contractors to tear down the old house and had commissioned an architect, with the original blue-prints of the house, but giving his notes on what he wanted to change.

Derek was downstairs, training. As most of the time. At one point, Peter needed to get that boy a hobby. Or a job. Or a lover. Possibly all three.

The door opened downstairs and three sets of steps walked in, voices arguing softly among themselves. Not that Peter hadn't heard the Jeep a mile out – that thing sounded like it was taking its dying breath, he had no idea why his mate bothered driving it around. Money, possibly. Mh. He opened another tab to look for a fitting car for Stiles. Perhaps a worthy first courting gift. Nothing too fancy, Stiles didn't strike him as the kind of person who would appreciate too fancy or expensive things. Something Peter might be able to change with time, at least a little. After all, he himself reveled in high quality and luxury and he would like to offer his mate the same standard.

Derek was the one to open the office door, glare etched into his features as he led Stiles, Scott and Jackson in. Intense, whiskey-honey eyes scanned the room, landing on the cleaner desk. No longer covered in sod. A bemused smile spread over his lips but he didn't comment.

"Scotty, you go first," Stiles instructed as he walked around the desk to once again sit on it.

This time, with it being cleaner, Stiles didn't just perch at the edge though, he hopped up onto it, planting himself comfortably on the surface. His eyes were on Peter. There was something so thrilling to be the focus of these calculating, clever eyes. Peter raised a curious eyebrow, just to earn a grin in return. After a moment, Stiles gave Scott a pointed look, urging him on. With a displeased grunt did Scott step forward, looking at Peter in a frustrated manner.

"This is not... permanent," Scott stated, frowning. "I still don't trust you. But I trust Stiles. You have a month to convince me that I can or should trust you too."

"Fair enough," Peter paused for a moment, before flashing his eyes red. "The same goes for you too, pup. You've shown that you are more loyal to the hunters than to your fellow wolves, because of your mate. I need to see that you're being reasonable about it too. I can't have a beta in my pack who will choose to side with hunters over his own pack."

"Yes, yes, everyone has trust-issues, we'll book a team-building retreat at one point," Stiles made a dismissive gesture before motioning for Scott to go on. "Scotty."

Scott gave a last glare, then turned to Peter and baring his throat. "I want to join your pack, Alpha."

Peter's eyes glowed red again, darker and more vibrant, a fire burning in them as he was offered a new beta. Getting up from his chair, he walked around the desk – brushing his hand gently over Stiles' arm in passing – before he came to stand in front of Scott. He gave a gentle bite with blunt, human teeth to the base of Scott's neck and though he could feel the beta tense nervously, he didn't try to squirm away. Stiles must have worked hard on convincing Scott of this. When Peter let go, Scott gasped, his knees buckling a little under him.

"What the fuck," Scott grabbed onto the desk, staring at Peter, Derek and Stiles.

"Pack-bonds," Stiles offered, aiming a soft smile at his best friend. "I told you that being pack isn't just about being a ragtag group of people who band together. It's much more primal."

For a moment, Stiles closed his eyes in concentration and then Scott gave a small whine. It made Peter raise his eyebrow curiously, waiting for his mate to look at him again.

When Stiles did, he simply shrugged. "Tugged on the pack-bond."

"You... can do that?" Derek looked surprised, his face softening some.

Ah. It was something dear Damon used to do to comfort the pups. The human Alpha Mate of the late Hale Pack. Derek's father. A classic Pack Mom thing to do, if Peter was being honest, not something he would have expected Stiles to do so casually. Something he thought he would have to ease his mate into to see just how far Stiles wanted to embrace the Alpha Mate role.

"Apparently," Stiles shrugged. "I mean, I figured I should be able to. Since I can feel the bonds as... well, as literal bonds, inside my mind. It's like a string, you can pull strings."

"Not everyone can," Peter offered, unable to hide the smallest smile. "For most wolves, the pack-bonds are simply a... presence, in the back of their mind. The bonds are more refined and stronger for Alphas though. But even to us, they're only present. It's an Alpha Mate thing to pull."

Stiles' grin sharpened, showing he knew that. "Enough about me. You have a beta to turn."

Jackson, who had stood aside with his arms crossed and silently watched all of this, now stepped forward. "I... want to join your pack, Alpha."

The boy's heart was hammering in his chest and he smelt nervous, betraying the cool exterior and near bored look on his face. Peter had a feeling that this one could be interesting. Showing his claws, fangs and red eyes, Peter approached Jackson. After a moment, the boy bared his throat to Peter and this time, Peter sank his fangs into the junction between neck and shoulder. Jackson screamed and instinctively held onto Peter, but he didn't try to tear away either. Peter's chest swelled as he felt a second pack-bond snap into place in such a short time. He felt stronger than ever before as he looked at his mate and their three betas. Good. A proper pack. He wasn't done yet, he needed more, wanted more, but it was a good start. Grabbing Jackson by the arm, Peter maneuvered him toward the couch in the corner of the room to sit down and catch his breath. Stiles was right, they really needed a... cleaner and more presentable headquarters.

"What… now?" Jackson asked warily as he settled onto the couch.

"Now, we wait," Stiles threw his back-pack at Scott, who caught it with an oof. "There's sandwiches and juice boxes in there. Scotty, your mom thinks you're staying at my place, my dad thinks I'm staying at yours. Jackson, text your parents whatever excuse you usually come up with for sneaking out at night. We're all staying here."

Scott sat down next to Jackson, opening the back-pack. "Wait, we're staying here?"

"Juice boxes?" Jackson asked stunned, fishing a box out of the back-pack.

"Yes, juice boxes. Your body is going through changes, it'll need energy. Sugar," Stiles answered, though he sounded like his focus had wandered elsewhere. "And yes, staying here. Jackson shouldn't be alone. Remember how your change went? And how you woke up naked and alone with rabbit blood all over you? We're watching Jackson, make sure he doesn't run off to kill Thumper."

Peter pursed his lips amused as he watched his betas, before he turned back toward his mate and, ah. Stiles had kicked off his shoes and was fully sitting on the desk, legs crossed beneath his body. He'd also pulled Peter's laptop onto his lap and was scrolling. A small smile tugged on Peter's lips as he approached Stiles and came to stand behind him. Subtly, he rested his chin on Stiles' shoulder, wanting to be close to his mate, touch him. The small smile turned pleased when Stiles near instinctively leaned his head back against Peter's chest. Stiles had said he felt the pull too, after all.

"What do you think?" Peter asked, watching Stiles scroll.

"Depends," Stiles tilted his head so he could half-way look at Peter's face. "What are we looking for? Something permanent, or something temporary?"

And Peter couldn't express how much that meant to him. Yes, he was fascinated and delighted by the fact that Stiles claimed his role as Alpha Mate and demanded to be treated as an equal. But right now, Stiles was showing that he also looked at Peter as an equal and not as the Alpha he could boss around because of the mate-bond. Because Stiles understood that the decision whether or not their pack would be located at the preserve, whether Peter wanted to give up this place or rebuild it, was a decision that Peter needed to make, not as the Alpha but as one of only two living Hales.

And it wasn't just that. It was the we. Six years in hell, isolated and without pack. Even before that, as the shunned Left Hand, kept at the fringe of his sister's pack. After all this pain, he was rewarded with the greatest gift a werewolf could have. His True Mate. A we.

"Temporary," Peter replied after a moment. "I already contacted the contractors, they will be by tomorrow at noon, to start construction. Or, deconstruction first, I suppose."

Stiles gave a hum, non-judgmental, and closed a couple tabs. "These are too ridiculous for something temporary. But tomorrow means we'll have to find something that's ready to move in right away. Considering the prices on the ones I closed, I'm assuming money won't be an issue, which will make a very quick move-in easier to find."

It was Stiles' mind that Peter was fully enraptured by. He could listen to the boy deduce and put pieces together for hours. Especially like this, with Stiles leaning against his chest. His warmth and scent radiating off of him, mingling with Peter's.

"These five," Stiles declared after not too long, handing the laptop to Peter.

Once Peter took it, Stiles hopped off the desk and put on his shoes. "Okay, change of plans. Derek, Scott, you're on Jackson watch duty while Peter and I are gone. Don't worry, we'll be back before moon-rise. Stop glaring at me, Sourwolf. You can call us if anything happens."

Derek narrowed his eyes and turned toward his uncle. "You're the Alpha. You should stay."

"Oh, please. I can't spend the next twelve hours babysitting the new pup," Peter glared at his nephew. "You heard Stiles, we have places to be. Nothing will happen for now anyway."

"Where are you going," Jackson asked warily, holding a by now empty juice box.

"Considering the state of this house, we're going house hunting. So this pack has a proper place to stay without ash and misery covering every surface. Maybe even already tonight. Sound good?"

To prove his point, Stiles ran a finger over the still sod covered couch Jackson was laying on. Peter offered a pleased smile and wrapped a casual arm around Stiles' waist, resting his hand on the smaller of his mate's back. Gently guiding and not so subtly scent-marking.

Peter smirked, before turning to the betas. "Call, if there is any change in his condition."

"Yes," Derek sighed defeated, still leaning against the wall.

Scott made a last sound of protest before he got a sandwich out and took a bite, near spitefully, while Stiles fixed him with a glare. A pleased smile spread over Stiles' lips and he nodded. Before they left, Stiles fished his phone out and sent a text. Peter raised a curious eyebrow as his phone buzzed, together with Derek's, Scott's and even Jackson's. When the betas checked their phones, Peter assumed they found the same as he did. A message in a group-chat named Hale Pack.

"Call Peter if something serious happens, text if anything mildly confusing or concerning happens," Stiles instructed. "Also, this will make things easier in the future. And don't worry how I got your numbers. Just accept it and move on, you're not going to get an answer."

"This is like your key-collection all over again," Scott muttered dismayed.

Peter also raised his second eyebrow, intrigued by what key-collection Scott may be referring to, but the only reply his mate gave him was a mischievous grin and a wink. His inner wolf was purring with delight. How had he gotten lucky enough to get a tricky, cunning mate like that?

"I'll text when we find something and are on our way back," Stiles promised.

With that, the Alpha Mates headed out of the office, leaving the house. Peter paused curiously in front of the Jeep, still wondering why his mate bothered with this monstrosity, before steering Stiles rather pointedly toward his own car. Stiles snorted softly as he looked at the Cobra.

"Oh, you and your… car… do not get to judge," Peter shushed him.

"Oh, I am absolutely judging, I am judging you so hard for this midlife crisis of a car."

The withering glare on Stiles' face made Peter growl and flash his eyes at the boy, which only got him the sweet scent of arousal. Peter breathed deeply for a moment, before focusing on the task at hand, getting into the driver's seat and putting his laptop onto Stiles' lap again, for the boy to look up the directions to the first apartment they were going to look at.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: House Hunting

Stiles looked very comfortable in Peter's car and it pleased the wolf. And it started to frustrate the man just how easily pleased his wolf was by everything Stiles did. Rationally speaking, he was aware that this was a good thing, that a wolf and their mate were meant to be, were meant to compliment each other, so of course would his mate please his wolf. It was just the level of ridiculousness that he felt whenever he felt like wagging his tail. Thankfully, he didn't have one. That would be so utterly humiliating. Yet every time Stiles offered that sharp smile, showing off that he had figured something out, every time Stiles took care of the pack, took his role as Alpha Mate seriously and enacted it? Peter's wolf wanted to roll onto his back and offer his soft belly to Stiles.

The boy started fidgeting with his phone and after a moment, a call connected. "He—ey, Allison."

Peter's claws extended, digging into the steering wheel as he kept from growling. Why was his mate calling a hunter? Why did his mate even have a hunter's phone number? An Argent, at that.

"Stiles?" Allison sounded tired and confused. "Why are you calling me?"

Well, at least Peter wasn't the only one wondering. He glowered at the street while listening.

"Me and Jackson are kinda… occupied tonight. We've been sitting at Lydia's bedside every day so far. But we can't… We have… plans tonight," Stiles was tapping his fingers against the car-door, rhythmless but frantic. "So—o, I was wondering, if you could go and sit with her. I don't want her to be alone when she wakes up, she needs a friendly face. And you could use it too."

"I don't really have the…" Allison trailed off. "I'm not good company."

"Good thing Lydia is unconscious, then," Stiles said, forcibly cheerful. "Listen, you've been holing up at home since... It's been a couple days now. This isn't… Go visit Lydia. Talk to her, she can't answer or argue, but it'll help to get it off your chest."

"There's nothing to get off my chest," Allison's voice had a note of finality and bravery.

"Ri—ight," Stiles' finger-tapping increased. "Your aunt was a crazy, bigoted mass-murderer and rapist. But she was also someone you grew up admiring and thinking of as an older sister, as you told us yourself. You're allowed to be fucking devastated by the things you learned about her before her death and you're allowed to mourn her, mourn the person you grew up knowing. You're also allowed to hate her and be angry at her and feel like screaming until your throat's bleeding."

There was total silence. Peter swallowed hard, looking at his mate from the corner of his eyes. Stiles' finger-tapping had stopped, his hand balled into such a tight fist that his nails bit harshly into his palm. That wasn't generic advise, that wasn't a platitude, that… came from a personal place. And Peter's wolf wanted to tear whoever hurt his mate to shreds.

"She tortured Derek," Allison whispered, sounding close to tears. "She shot Scott. She kept talking about them like… like they're not human. Like they're animals. She was… full of so much hatred and she enjoyed hurting them, it wasn't even just… just a job for her. She enjoyed it. And I don't… I keep thinking about the woman who would sit in my pillow-fort with me and tell me silly stories about what dad was like as a kid and who'd have tea-parties with me in the backyard in Washington and… and… and when I feel like crying about her, I remember how she shot Scott and I hate myself for wanting to cry… I don't know what to feel, Stiles."

"And that's okay," Stiles' voice softened and so did the look on his face. "It's okay to feel everything, it's okay to feel nothing, it's okay to rotate through feelings on a loop. She used you, she manipulated you, but in her own twisted way, she did also love you and it's okay to have complicated and confusing feelings about losing her. But it's not okay to lock others out, because grief's a dangerous beast that'll sink its claws into you and drag you into an abyss if you let it. So, I want you go to and visit Lydia in the hospital, because I don't want either of you to be alone."

There was a pause and rustling, before a sigh. "Fine. I'll check on her for a bit."

"Thank you," Stiles grinned, looking pleased.

"Stiles?" Allison asked, voice careful. "Why are you having plans with Jackson?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Stiles spoke in a cheerful voice. "Tell Lydia she's missed!"

He disconnected the call and then typed out a message. Peter's phone buzzed, so he raised an eyebrow and turned toward Stiles, because why would his mate text him when they were together.

"Group chat," Stiles explained without looking up. "Just asking if everyone's still alive. The Derek-Jackson angle is an unknown variable, but both Scott-Derek and Scott-Jackson are… testy and potentially explosive. I'm unsure how that'll work out if nobody's there to mediate. There could be a very painful chain-reaction if Jackson turns and goes aggressive, because Scott's shown to be violent if it's in a response – or it's the full moon – and then his behavior may get Derek growly and suddenly we have three betas at each other's throats. Not a fan of that."

Peter hummed and reached one hand out to rest on Stiles' knee, stilling the nervous jerking. "We'll be quick and return to them in no time, darling. Now explain to me what you said to the Argent."

"Allison," Stiles stretched the name out slowly. "She has her own name. She isn't just a representation of her family. She's her own person. And I told her to sit with Lydia-"

"About grieving someone in a complicated way," Peter clarified.

Silence again and when Peter turned to check, Stiles was staring out the window. "No."

"No?" Peter raised both eyebrows at his mate.

"Look," Stiles heaved a sigh. "This bond may be pulling us together and we are doing the whole leading the pack together and I am giving you a chance, but… in no way or shape are we close enough for childhood trauma sob stories. I like the way we work together, I think I even like how easy it is to just… be around you. But that's asking for a level of trust we don't have yet."

Peter ground his teeth together to keep from growling. Mostly because he knew Stiles was right. The two barely knew each other – didn't really know each other at all. And the first three major impressions Peter had made on Stiles were to turn Stiles' best friend into a werewolf, attack the girl he… cared deeply about… and kidnap Stiles. And Stiles had said, from the get-go, that Peter would have to earn his trust and love. Just because Stiles felt drawn in by the bond didn't mean Peter had won either of those yet. His grip on the steering wheel tightened in frustration.

/break\

Stiles tilted his head as he wandered the third apartment. Penthouse. In one of Beacon Hills' more fancy buildings that even had a damn pool in the basement, only accessible for the residents. The first two had been a bust, one Stiles had disliked upon closer inspection, the other one had not met Peter's standards. This one though, Stiles liked it. And judging by the casual way Peter was leaning against the door-frame with his arms crossed, simply watching Stiles, Peter didn't seem to dislike it either. He'd made his distaste for the last one very clear.

"You like it," Peter observed, tilting his head.

"Mh," Stiles nodded. "Three bedrooms, spacious enough kitchen to host everyone, two bathrooms, fully furnished so we won't have to get anything new – and the furniture seems to be up to your standard this time too since you haven't viciously glared at the couch. It's close enough to the woods and suspiciously close to my house, plus the pool's a nice touch."

Peter looked pleased with that and turned toward the real estate agent. "We're taking it. Right now. We're moving in today, if that is possible."

A bemused smile played on Stiles' lips as he watched the agent sputter and Peter smooth things over by offering a horrendous sum of money to move things along faster, including a hefty cut for her. Rationally speaking, Stiles had been aware that Peter had a lot of money – eight people had died in that fire and all life insurance money had gone to the sole survivors, of whom there were only Peter and Derek now, and even before that, the Hales had been rich. Not just the Hales, but Peter specifically. He was a prolific attorney with high profile clients. Stiles remembered his dad complaining about Peter a lot, before the fire, how that damn Hale lawyer had gotten someone else out.

Stiles was absolutely not going to tell Peter that stories about him were what had first made Stiles curious about what a lawyer was and got him intrigued by the profession. Someone who got paid for twisting the law to get out of punishments? For lying and charming people? Where research and excessive knowledge paid off in great ways, because you needed to know the law and you needed to know precedence cases? Sign him the fuck up, that profession was tailor made for him!

"You said three bedrooms, there's another room," Peter pointed out with furrowed brows.

"It's an office," Stiles raised his eyebrows. "I figured it'd, you know, stay an office."

"I figured you'd, you know, want a room too," Peter countered mockingly. "One room for me, one for Derek, one for… the pups, whichever of them need to crash here can do so. One for you."

Oh. That was… surprisingly considerate of Peter. Stiles smiled a little at that, tilting his head.

"I don't think slumber parties are a good idea with the bond," Stiles pointed out honestly. "And considering how much you love that desk and chair in the Hale House, you should keep the office as your office. I'm assuming you're already working on getting your license back."

At that, Peter looked genuinely surprised, before smoothing his features back. "Of course did you do a background check on me. I shouldn't expect anything else, mh?"

"Oh no, I knew you were a lawyer before all this – all of this," Stiles waved a hand around, biting his tongue on saying 'werewolf business' when his eyes landed on the real estate agent in the next room making frantic phone calls. "You were the bane of my dad's existence when he was still a deputy, you know. I think you returning to your profession might force him into early retirement."

It earned him a genuine laugh from Peter and Stiles felt very warm and pleased by the sound.

/break\

Jackson was feeling weird. Everything was so intense. Sounds were louder, weirder – he could hear things that were too far away to be heard – and all scents were not just stronger, they were also… different. Everyone seemed to smell different, with specific notes to them and then the scents still changed depending on… how they felt? When Derek and Scott started growling at each other and flashing their eyes at each other, they started smelling more spicy and sharp, like a warning. It was so nauseating, too many impressions all over, overwhelming him. Plus, the heat, he was sweating so much, he'd already emptied most of the water bottles Stiles had dropped with them.

And now he had to move around, on top of everything else going on with him. Because Stiles and Peter had returned and announced they got an apartment. Just like that. Three hours after leaving, they returned and had a place, ready to move in. There'd always been something dangerously efficient to Stiles – sure, the guy was a fucking mess of bumbling and rambling, but Jackson wasn't an idiot, he knew Stiles was top of every class, knew Stiles sitting next to coach wasn't just warming the bench but more often than not giving coach game plans and telling him what the strengths and weaknesses of each play (on their own team and on the opposing team) were – but Peter Hale, with wealth, influence and the power of being an Alpha werewolf was enabling that efficiency to a degree that made Jackson fear for anyone opposing them.

Jackson didn't really get it. That whole soulmate thing that Scott had awkwardly tried to explain to him after Peter and Stiles left, that Peter was the Alpha but Stiles got equal say-so on the pack because he was the Alpha Mate and that this didn't mean the two were fucking (which had been Jackson's first conclusion and hey, he wasn't going to shame Stilinski for being into older men. Everyone with eyes could see the Daddy Issues written all over the sheriff's son, after all), it just meant that the two were werewolf soulmates. Every wolf had a destined mate out there, someone they would recognize upon first interacting with. Scott and Allison. Scott kept gushing about her, but more specifically about the bond between them. The feeling of home, of safety, of unwavering love, that he got from Allison, the fact that his wolf just knew she was his.

Jackson, who'd been feeling adrift and lonely ever since he learned that he was adopted, felt overwhelmed with longing at the concept. Someone who was wholly his, made for him as he was made for them. Someone who was home and an anchor, as Scott kept saying. Did someone like that exist for him? There was a flash of red, red hair and red lips stretched into a smile, and the cold vice-grip of hope choking his heart up. He shook the thought off and swallowed it down.

"Welcome to the temporary den of the Hale Pack," Stiles announced as he opened the door and led them inside. "Derek, can you help Jackson into the bedroom at the beginning of the hall?"

He pointed at a room and Derek grunted his confirmation. The older beta had an arm around Jackson, helping him upstairs and into the apartment without Jackson even having to ask for help. Not that he would have asked for help, because he didn't do that. But apparently, pack… helped each other. Even if they didn't actually know each other, or like each other. It was what Jackson craved more than anything in the world. A place where he could feel like he belonged.

/break\

Scott was sitting sprawled out on the couch, his socked feet up on the living room table. Stiles and Derek were in the kitchen arguing with each other about dinner, Jackson was more or less sleeping in the bedroom where Derek had dropped him off half an hour ago. That left Scott and Peter alone in the living room, on the couch, next to each other. Bored and maybe also a little curious, Scott peeked at what Peter was doing at his laptop. He was surprised to see Peter browsing cars.

"I just sat in your stupid expensive and clearly new car, why do you want a new one?"

Peter's eyes zeroed in on Scott at that, eyebrows furrowed. Seizing Scott up like he was something peculiar and Peter had to decide how to interact with him. Which… yeah. That feeling was mutual. The only reason Scott was here to begin with was Stiles. Because if Stiles was Peter's mate, if the two had what Scott and Allison had? Scott would be damned to stand between Stiles and having that because it was the singularly most amazing thing Scott could imagine. He fully didn't understand why his awesome best friend would be soulmates with a ruthless werewolf who wasn't above killing and maiming and only seemed to care about his own goals. But for now, Scott was going to forcibly give Peter the benefit of the doubt. For Stiles' sake.

Amusingly enough, Scott could see a similar thought process reflected in Peter's face – playing nice with Scott for Stiles' sake even though the man seemed to care for Scott as much as Scott for him.

"It's not for me," Peter's eyes returned to the screen. "It seems to me like an appropriate first courting gift to Stiles. He can't rely on hitching a ride with Jackson all the time and I do not trust the… death trap he calls a car to not fall apart with Stiles in it."

At his words, Scott tensed and bit his lip. That was actually thoughtful, because he could hear the edge of concern in Peter's voice even as the Alpha tried to play it off with nonchalance. The new pack-bond between them buzzed in the back of Scott's mind, allowing him more insight into Peter's feelings, allowing him to see past the nonchalance with more ease. Peter really did care about Stiles. This would be so easy, just keep his mouth shut and let Peter shoot himself in the foot, but…

"Don't get him a car," Scott's voice dropped to a low whisper.

Just to make sure Stiles couldn't hear, even though Stiles was in another room and still arguing with Derek ('Capers absolutely do not belong in any food, much less pizza, Sourwolf!'). Peter arched one eyebrow and there was so much judgment and dare in that action, it infuriated Scott.

"The Jeep," Scott frowned annoyed. "It was his mom's. It's like one of the few things he has left of her, he's never going to abandon it. He's keeping it together with duct-tape and hope not because he can't get another car, but because this car matters."

Peter's head snapped up, eyes narrowed at him. Able to detect that Scott wasn't lying. In the kitchen, Derek had gone quiet and was, after a beat, agreeing with Stiles, much to Stiles' delight. The look on Peter's face softened ever so slightly and it was weird to have that aimed at him.

"Thank you," Peter said genuinely. "I think I'll find something different, then."

Scott heaved a sigh. He'd only done this for Stiles. Stiles' mom was still a very touchy topic that they didn't bring up, that had Stiles defensive and angry and sad and overwhelmed. Comments about the Jeep had him testy usually. Sure, he called it a piece of crap at times, but he did it with affection, in the same tone of voice that Claudia used to, with a smile as she patted Roscoe's hood and told Scott and Stiles that it was totally fine, her piece of crap Jeep would get them home safe. Scott quickly got his phone out to distract himself as he was overcome with his own grief. She'd been Melissa's best friend, the two women had been inseparable, she was the tia Scott never had.

Instead, he typed a message to Allison: Hey. I hope you're doing okay. I love you [bow emoji]

It only took moments for a reply to come in: At the hospital visiting Lydia. Still unconscious. Danny's with me. We're playing cards. Love you too [wolf emoji]

Scott smiled softly at that, pleased that she'd left her bedroom on her own and was interacting with other people again. That was progress. Progress was good. Scott still remembered how Stiles had been after his mom had died and it had frightened Scott. He hadn't known how to deal with it back then and he didn't know if he could now. Because grief was something only the person experiencing it could deal with, there was… there was nothing Scott could do but be there. It made him feel helpless to only play support, instead of being an active help.

/break\

Peter had the smallest, softest smile on his lips, safe in the knowledge no one was awake to witness it. Derek sat on the armchair, his arms crossed, head tipped forward to rest against his collar-bone as the beta was asleep. They'd woken Jackson up when the pizza arrived and he had stayed in the living room after, curled together on one end of the L shaped couch. Next to him was Scott, his legs somewhat entangled with Jackson's in the boys' sleep. Scott's head was resting on Stiles' thigh as Peter's first beta snored peacefully, his body bent to fit the corner of the couch. Stiles, in return, was stretched out the length of the couch, safely and comfortably tucked between the backrest of the couch and Peter, his head cushioned on Peter's chest, hand sprawled on Peter's abdomen.

They'd eaten pizza together, the teens arguing about a video game after Stiles declared they needed a Play Station in the apartment. Their argument lacked any serious heat though, it was more familiar bickering than the usual fights that broke out between them. It was… achingly nostalgic. It reminded Peter of pack nights, Damon cooking for everyone and the pups arguing, Laura, Derek and Cora fighting about some nonsense, just like Peter, Talia and Aaron used to. There was a pang in his chest as he allowed himself to remember his younger brother for the first time since waking from the coma. While the loss of his family was what had fueled him so far, it had also been a vague concept of grief muddled together, not… not the individual people he had lost.

His hand started shaking a little where it ran over Stiles' buzz-cut and he couldn't help press it against Stiles' head, press the boy closer to him, trying to hold him safe, protect him from a danger that wasn't even there, while his eyes surveyed his pack. In that moment, Peter Hale vowed something to himself. Never again. He couldn't lose another pack, he wouldn't be able to come back from that. He would fight to the end of the world and tear everything around him apart before he'd allow anyone to take his pack from him again. They were his now, he was going to protect each and every one of them with his dying breath if he had to, before he'd ever experience the crippling pain of a breaking pack-bond, watching a pack-mate die. Never again. They were his.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: First Date

Peter rolled his head slowly. Werewolves couldn't get stress-headaches but he felt like he was developing a stress-headache right now. Closing his eyes, he hoped for a moment that Derek was either not home, or at least in a cooperative mood because after the day he'd had, Peter could not deal with Derek's growling. He unlocked the door and entered the apartment, just to pause. Something smelt absolutely delicious, which couldn't be. Derek couldn't cook.

Following his nose, he reached his kitchen, just to find the most enchanting sight. Stiles, in front of the stove, cooking whatever smelt so wonderful. The boy was humming softly to himself as he worked. For a moment, Peter just leaned against the doorway and watched. His wolf was rumbling in contentment as he got to see his mate do something so domestic in their den.

"Stiles," Peter drawled after a moment. "What are you doing here?"

Startled, Stiles stumbled backward some, nearly falling in his flailing. Peter was quick to reach out and steady his mate with a strong hand pressed against Stiles' back. Big, pretty doe-eyes stared up at Peter before Stiles straightened himself up again, an embarrassed blush on his cheeks.

"So, I sent Derek out with Scott and Jackson to go on a run. Jackson still needs to get used to the new energy and all and I think bonding would do Scott some good," Stiles offered.

"That explains why Derek isn't here," Peter nodded. "Not why you are though, darling."

Tilting his head, Stiles returned his attention to the food he was cooking. "Well, with the pups out of the house, I figured it'd be a good time for our first date. So, I'm cooking for us."

"First date," Peter stood up straighter, intrigued.

"Yeah," Stiles gave a casual shrug, hands still busy with the food. "I told you when we went house hunting, we work well together and we got that bond between us, but we don't know each other well enough for childhood sob stories. So. I guess, for that we would have to get to know each other. And I figured, why call it anything else than what it is? Spending one on one time, getting to know each other for the sake of growing closer and seeing how things could work between us romantically? A date."

Stiles may sound casual and his words were well-chosen, but Peter could hear the frantic, fast-paced pitter-patter of the boy's heart, see the increased fidgeting, the way his eyes flitted back and forth between the food and Peter as though he was trying to seize Peter's reaction. Stiles was nervous.

Somehow, that realization charmed Peter a lot. Smiling, Peter came to stand next to Stiles, the hand on the boy's back slowly lowering to rest on the small of Stiles' back. Stiles leaned into it.

"That sounds lovely," Peter offered a reassuring smile. "What are we having for dinner?"

"Gulasz Wieprzowy," Stiles replied. "I saw the pork at the butcher's and felt inspired."

Peter tilted his head intrigued. "I haven't had goulash in a while. It smells delicious."

"Yeah, I haven't made it in a while either," Stiles smiled, more relaxed now.

"How come?" Peter asked while he started setting the table for two.

For a moment, Stiles paused, like he was thinking about it. "Well, there was this feral Alpha terrorizing our town so my dad's barely been home for dinner and I've been too busy doing research and herding werewolves to cook elaborate meals."

He raised both his eyebrows at Peter, but his lips were quirked in a small smile. Peter still winced and put down two plates and the cutlery. He paused at the glasses. Usually, he'd pick wine for most meals, but considering his mate's age, he forewent that and put normal glasses out for both.

"So you enjoy cooking, then?" Peter asked instead, to change the topic back again.

"I love it," Stiles bounced a little on the balls of his feet. "I used to cook with my mom all the time. Dad is… useless in the kitchen. He got to cut up vegetables for us and that was it."

Peter felt daring, due to the serene atmosphere and Stiles' willingness. "Used to?"

A tenseness set into Stiles and the boy reeked of grief and pain. "She's dead."

Now it was Peter's turn to pause and tense a little. Grief's a dangerous beast that'll sink its claws into you and drag you into an abyss if you let it. Stiles' words rang clear in his mind and they suddenly got put into a vague sense of context. There was still more to uncover here, he knew. Because a loving mother who taught Stiles how to cook didn't explain the way Stiles had talked about complicated feelings for lost loved ones. Still, Peter decided not to prod. This was more than Stiles had been willing to share in the car, so Peter would cherish it.

"I want to know more about you," Stiles said, curious. "Who you were before the fire."

"What… would you like to know, darling? I'm an open book for you."

Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. "Ri—ight."

"I mean it," Peter shrugged and sat down at the table. "You're my mate. You said we need to build trust. You are the one person I will be honest to, because you are the one person I never thought I'd get. I never thought I would find my True Mate, I will not do anything to jeopardize that."

"Okay," Stiles' voice cracked a little. "That… That was a lot of honesty already."

Peter shrugged, a thin smile on his lips as he looked at his mate. "I grew up around happily mated people who already had pups too. While I stood… at the sidelines. As my sister's Left Hand, I was always more at the fringe of the pack already, but seeing all these happy couples made me feel all the more… othered. At times, even like I may not… deserve a mate, the way they did."

"Tell me… about them?" Stiles' voice was softer, making clear that Peter could deny him.

Sighing, Peter leaned forward some, his hands folded on the table. He wanted to learn about Stiles' family and whatever trauma his mother's death had caused. For that, he supposed, he had to share his own and let Stiles get to know him. Even if it was painful.

"Derek's mother Talia was my older sister," Peter's voice was soft. "She'd found her mate when we were young, she was barely out of high school, on a gap year. Traveling, getting acquainted with neighboring Alphas and packs as part of her training to one day take over for our father. She met him in Los Angeles, a bright-eyed wanna-be actor working at a diner. Took her breath away, she said. I always thought she was exaggerating. He was human."

"So he was a turned wolf then?" Stiles asked tentatively.

"No," Peter shook his head. "He valued his humanity and though he loved our pack, our family, and never looked at us wolves as less, he also never saw himself as a wolf. He stayed human."

Stiles started serving the food with a curious look on his face. "Oh."

"Not all members of a pack have to be wolves," Peter offered, smiling thinly as he accepted his plate. "My own mother wasn't a wolf either. She was our pack's Emissary."

"What's that?" Stiles perked up with his curiosity shining bright in his whiskey-colored eyes.

"What Deaton used to be for my sister," Peter sneered at that. "A magic user who functions as a type of ambassador for a pack and the Alpha's adviser."

"That sounds so cool," Stiles raised both his eyebrows.

He sat down opposite Peter, kicking his feet a little in excitement, which made Peter smile. "It was cool. She was pretty amazin. Honestly, I think she would have liked you a lot. You have what she would have called 'spunk'. She never backed down from any wolf either. Her name was Dalia. She was young when she was assigned our pack as Emissary and my father had still been in training to become the next Alpha himself. He was a 'cocky bastard to boot', as mother would call him."

Stiles cracked a teasing smile. "So the apple didn't fall too far from the tree there then?"

An indignant huff came from Peter. "He knew immediately that she was his True Mate, but she made him wait. She wanted to earn her stripes as Emissary and only agreed to his courting after her apprenticeship with the then-Emissary came to an end."

"A wise woman," Stiles nodded solemnly, quirking his lips. "Making the wolf work for it."

Peter couldn't help smile, feeling far too smitten with his mate. "My brother was the opposite."

"Oh?" Stiles tilted his head intrigued while they started eating. "How so?"

"Aaron was human," Peter paused for a moment. "But he was a wolf's True Mate. Fiona was a member of the neighboring Ito Pack, they met during a meeting between packs. The moment she laid eyes on him, she knew – and told him. Just blurted it out in front of both packs, before even saying her name. Aaron was so excited because as a human, he hadn't thought he'd have a True Mate. They were inseparable from the second they met. It was so annoying."

Despite the fond smile on his lips, Peter could feel tears prickle in his eyes. The relationship between him and Talia had always been complicated, always been burdened with resentment. But Aaron? His little brother had meant the world to him. Feeling too emotional, Peter started focusing on the food, spiking a piece of pork up on his fork and shoving it into his mouth.

He paused, positively delighted by the taste. "Mh. This is excellent, darling."

Stiles' face brightened at the praise. "Thanks. It's a family recipe."

"Your turn, then," Peter smirked, a teasing note to it. "It's not a hard guess that your father has some Polish ancestry, last name considered."

It earned him a small snort from Stiles. "I mean, yes, he does. But… Stilinski isn't even an actual Polish last name, you know? It looks close enough to people who don't know the language, but it's… a nonsense word, essentially. My grandparents' names were Eliasz and Janina Zieliński when they came to California. But the immigration clerk misheard, didn't care, and my grandparents were too afraid to argue, so they became Elias and Jane Stilinski. And that kind of… set the course for their time in the US. They didn't want to argue, they didn't want to rock the boat."

Stiles poked at his food with a frown for a moment before he continued. "Maybe, in a bigger city where they could have found a Polish community, but in a small town like Beacon Hills? Their clothing, their food, the language they spoke with each other, it caused neighbors to look at them, it drew attention they didn't want, so… they changed, they became proper Americans, all the way, left their culture behind. My dad never even learned Polish, until he met my mom."

Peter could feel and see that this was a sore topic for Stiles. He reached a hand out over the table to take Stiles', gently running his thumb over the back of it. Honey-golden eyes looked up at him warmly, a small smile on Stiles' lips. The sour scent dissolved some, pleasing Peter.

"My mom was a second generation immigrant too," Stiles continued, a little lighter. "Her parents were proud of their heritage, she was fluent in the language, learned all of her mother's recipes. She taught me all of it. She also taught my dad Polish. It's how they met, you know. She was out with her parents, arguing with them in Polish and dad heard them. He could recognize the language even if he didn't speak it. And he dared approach her, asked her if she could teach him. According to my mom, there wasn't a whole lot of teaching happening in the first couple months."

Stiles chuckled softly and even Peter couldn't help it. My, my, the sheriff had game. Good for him.

"So being charming is a trait for the Stilinski men then," Peter smirked and winked.

It got him a delightful blush from Stiles. "You are awful, Peter Hale."

It made Peter laugh and take Stiles' hand to kiss his knuckles. "Thank you, for giving me a chance."

"I…" Stiles trailed off thoughtfully. "Look, you have been… incredibly accommodating to me. I figured that the mate-bond would get me some leverage with you, when I first came to you, but… you share the pack with me, you respect my opinions. You haven't given me a reason not to try."

A soft smile spread over Peter's lips. "I want this. I want you. As long as it's in my powers, I'll do anything for you, darling."

Again with the endearing blush. "Okay. Enough mush. How's it going? You were stressed when you came home, I assume that's due to all the legalese you're putting up with?"

Peter gave a small groan. "Getting access to our family funds was the easy part. I am me, I have my DNA, I can prove I'm me. The scars were removed by the country's top plastic surgeon, because how else could I possibly have gotten my good looks back just like that? Who's going to question it? But my license, that's a fight and it's exhausting."

"I mean, you were in a coma for six years," Stiles argued, motioning at Peter with his fork.

Scrunching up his nose, Peter didn't resist to stick out his tongue at Stiles. "Don't side with them."

"Oh, real mature, Mister Hale," Stiles rolled his eyes, but he looked so fond. "Truly the behavior I would expect from California's top defense lawyer."

Peter's wolf purred at the praise and the fact that his mate knew how good he was in court. He picked up their empty plates to bring them to the sink, Stiles following right behind him and as Peter started cleaning the dishes, Stiles grabbed a towel and then hopped onto the counter to wait for the first plate to be clean. Stiles looked good on that counter, a grin on his face, kicking his feet.

"You have a dishwasher," Stiles pointed out, nudging it with his foot.

For a moment, Peter paused. "I know. But this is something my parents always used to do together. Neither of them could cook, that was something my uncle did for our pack when I was a pup, so my parents made it their duty to do the dishes after. It was… domestic. I always liked that."

The smile on Stiles' lips was full of understanding and when Peter handed him the first plate, Stiles started drying it off. They continued talking softly, about how school was going and what classes Stiles was enjoying in particular, what teachers he liked and which ones he didn't. Peter made it a point to remember the name Adrian Harris. Funny how that one was still on his list in regards to the fire, but now he felt even more motivated to tear the man apart for terrorizing his mate.

"I have a present for you, sweetheart," Peter noted when the dishes were done.

"I am mentally bracing myself for you to go way overboard on the first courting gift."

Stiles grinned at him, teasing and mischief sparkling in his eyes. It was on Peter to fight a blush at that. Was he that transparent? Well, he supposed that he had been quite adamant in pointing out how important Stiles was for him and he had also been waving around the family fortune when buying this apartment. Clearing his throat, Peter got out the small box to hand it to Stiles.

"Okay, smaller than expected," Stiles said in appreciation before opening it. "Oh. You fixed my car keys. The ones you bent to begin with. Very nice. Thank you, dear."

There was some sarcasm there, but still the teasing smile. Peter cleared his throat.

"I did not just fix your keys. I had your car fixed," Peter replied. "The Jeep is in top condition."

"The Jeep hasn't been in top condition when my mom bought it," Stiles chuckled amused.

"Well, it is now. Every single broken part has been replaced, there is no more duct-tape on it."

The amused look slowly slipped from Stiles' face as he realized Peter was serious. "You… You fixed Roscoe for me…? Like, fully, not just… bandaid on the broken tank?"

"I will not let my mate drive around in a glorified death-trap," Peter growled mildly and laid his arms around Stiles' waist to pull him close. "However, it has been brought to my attention that the car is important to you. So yes, it is a fully functioning car."

Stiles stared at him in stunned silence and then wrapped his own arms around Peter's neck to pull him into the tightest hug, face buried in Peter's neck. He could feel something wet where Stiles' face was pressed against him. Peter didn't comment on the tears. He knew sentimentality. The fact that he'd saved his father's desk and chair from the house before it got torn down, had them fixed and cleaned before putting them into the apartment's office, spoke for that.

"Thank you, Peter," Stiles whispered, breath hot against Peter's neck. "This… means a lot."

When Stiles pushed off Peter, he did so slowly. Very slowly. Peter's eyes were on those pretty, pink lips and for just a moment, it felt as though he could steal a kiss.

And then suddenly music started playing. "Blood brothers, closer than your next of kin. Thick as thieves and the best of friends. Take a bullet for each other-"

It startled the wolf and caused Stiles to quickly fish out his phone. "Scotty! What the hell."

"I know, I know, no interrupting, but I just saw a guy get cut in half, Stiles!"

Big doe-eyes stared straight ahead as Stiles gaped. "Let me repeat: What the hell."

"Derek took us out into the woods and there was this guy," the door opened and they had the unpleasant sensation of hearing Scott's voice double, through the phone and in person. "He was cornered by hunters and this very scary old guy just cut him in half."

Derek was glaring at Scott when the three betas entered the apartment. With a heavy sigh did Stiles disconnect the call and pocket his phone before running his fingers through his hair. Peter supposed that was the end of date night. Both Scott and Jackson looked annoyed and a bit disturbed.

"I went out on a run with them, like Stiles insisted," Derek glared at Stiles. "And then I caught the scent of another wolf. A rogue omega in our territory. I figured it'd be a good exercise for them and served to show Scott what happens to a wolf without a pack."

"I can see the point you were trying to make, but," Stiles motioned at Peter. "Take over, Alpha."

"You do not put our still relatively to entirely untrained betas into a dangerous situation like that," Peter took over, glaring sternly and crossing his arms over his chest. "You were supposed to go out there with them to train them some, not to endanger them."

Derek's jaw set and his glare deepened. "I wasn't planning on confronting the omega, uncle Peter. Just find them and where they were hiding. I would have told you so we could have gone back together and take care of it. Things escalated when the Argents came."

"...How?" Stiles asked warily. "How did it escalate?"

"There was an old guy and he used an actual sword to cut the man in half," Jackson said with a glower. "It was severely fucked up. You need to get your girlfriend out of that family, McCall."

"He said they would no longer follow the code," Derek spoke seriously, looking at his uncle.

"Because they did such a splendid job following the code when they set our family on fire? When they tortured you? When they went after Scott, a minor whose worst offense so far was most likely jaywalking?" Peter asked incredulously, feeling himself tense immensely.

"It figured that the Argents wouldn't buy it," Stiles sighed, leaning heavily against Peter.

They'd given a cover story, made it look like Kate Argent had been overcome with guilt for what she'd done and killed herself by setting herself on fire at the place of her crime. The press ate it up, but the Argents wouldn't. Peter glared and wrapped a possessive arm around Stiles' waist.

"We have to tell Lydia the truth soon," Stiles stated sternly. "If there's even more of a threat in town now, I don't want her to become a target. It's very obvious to anyone in the know what happened to her. If they assume she turned into a wolf too, they'll go after her."

Jackson went rigid at those words and growled lowly. The pup had grown very protective of his girlfriend since he was turned. Peter hadn't had the time to sit the boy down and talk to him about True Mates yet, but judging from everything Stiles told him, it was very likely.

"I agree," Peter said, earning looks from everyone else. "What? She hasn't shown signs of turning, but also not of rejecting the bite. She is clearly something, we just don't know what yet. Which makes her pack and thus mine to protect. As soon as she is released from the hospital, it wouldn't do to worsen her condition right now with unnecessary stress."

"And you, best buddy of mine, gotta keep an eye on Allison," Stiles stepped up to Scott and patted him on the back. "If there is yet another murderous Argent relative visiting town, we so need to keep Allison away from them. Kate had tried getting in her head, we do not want a repeat of it."

"Yeah," Scott made a face. "Yeah."

"That goes for you too, Jackson," Stiles pointed at the other wolf. "I know you and Allison became friends. So. Be a good friend for her. We need to let her know that she has us, got it?"

Peter bit his lips to keep from smiling. His mate commandeering the pups was just too precious, made him feel warm and proud. Stiles was herding the two other teens toward the door, but before they could leave, Stiles turned around and bolted back to Peter to press a kiss against his cheek. He took a moment to rub his own cheek against Peter's, scent-marking him.

"Today was nice, until the kids interrupted," Stiles grinned. "Let's do this again some time."

Peter's wolf was positively purring as he nodded his argreement.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Congratulations, It's Puppies! (2)

Peter pursed his lips, his eyes trailing over his pack. They were having a pack meeting, among other things about the new Argent threat. Him and Derek had done some recon to see just how many hunters had come to town with Gerard Argent. Due to that, the betas were to be in at least pairs of two when going outside, which may also help them with some bonding.

Though Stiles and Scott had been best friends for a very long time, Jackson was still a new variable to them. Lydia was to be released from the hospital soon too. Then there was the Argent girl, whom Peter may not want in his pack and who definitely was not part of the pack as of yet, but even he could see the benefit of the betas being close to her and being a positive influence over whatever the Argent clan could tell her. Nobody wanted a second Kate, least of all Peter.

"And you really think it's a good idea to turn someone when the Argents just got reinforcements?" Stiles pressed his lips together in a thin line, looking serious and concerned. Peter wished he could remove that look from his mate's face, but it was warranted. If Stiles weren't sitting opposite him, between Jackson and Scott, Peter would have reached out to take his mate's hand though.

"That's exactly why I'm considering Derek's suggestion," Peter told him. "Having more betas physically makes the Alpha of a pack stronger. Additional to the obvious fact that there is strength and safety in numbers. Right now, there is you, a human, and two young turned wolves to have your back at school. The more there are, the safer you are."

Stiles bit his lip, dragging it slowly through his teeth in a motion that Peter found himself unable to look away from. Did that boy even know how tempting and gorgeous he was…?

"Why him," Stiles asked, looking from Peter to Derek.

"I met him when I was hunting the rogue omega," Derek replied. "The boy saw me and the omega, so there is already a risk of him realizing there are werewolves in town. That makes him a potential threat, unless we fold him into the pack. I followed him home, wanted to see what he did. And I witnessed his father beating him. There doesn't seem to be anyone else in the house, just them."

Peter couldn't help the low growl. For a wolf, abusing a cub was unimaginable. And if the boy was stuck with only his abuser, no power, no help, no support? Becoming a wolf would allow the boy to fight back. His eyes landed on Jackson, noticing the near nervous fidgeting.

"Yeah, Mister Lahey is a piece of work," Jackson muttered softly.

"You know about the abuse?" Stiles looked at him with judgment. "And you didn't tell anyone?"

"Who would I tell? What would it change?" Jackson raised his eyebrows. "You think I'm the only person in the neighborhood who hears the yelling and breaking dishes? Who sees the bruises? If none of the adults do jackshit, what am I supposed to do?"

Peter breathed deeply and closed his eyes. They were just pups themselves and sometimes, Peter forgot just how helpless and powerless being a teenager could feel. When he opened his eyes again, he turned to look at Derek. He'd know all about feeling helpless and powerless as a teenager, wouldn't he? Was that why he'd voluntarily chosen a teenager even though he kept complaining about the fact that Peter's pack, so far, was all teenagers aside from the two Hales?

"I'm coming with you when you offer it to him and explain everything to him and then it's up to him, if he wants to take the risk," Stiles looked at Peter. "And if he says yes, after knowing about the dangers and downsides, we'll… call you guys. Do it the way we did with Jackson. Together."

/break\

Stiles had never quite paid attention to Isaac, if he was being honest. But then, in the spirit of being honest, Stiles hadn't paid attention to anyone who wasn't Scott or Lydia, on account of his crush on her. Maybe he'd been as self-centered a teen as Jackson or anyone else. They were on the lacrosse team together, but he'd never questioned the boy's bruises. Maybe he should have, maybe it'd have made him realize the abuse, maybe he could have helped. No time for maybes anymore.

"Becoming a wolf will make you strong. It'll make you heal faster too," Peter spoke evenly.

His eyes were on the boy's bruised face. Isaac looked away from him, quietly staring at the floor. Stiles felt himself press closer against Peter without meaning to. Something about Isaac hit a little too close to home in a way that unsettled Stiles. In a way that he hadn't thought about in years.

"Being a werewolf means being part of a pack. Our pack," Stiles tagged on, not minding that he cut into Peter's certainly well-prepared speech. "We look out for each other. We protect each other."

Isaac lifted his eyes at that, wide and surprised. "So… So, what? How do you want to look out for me? Protect me? There's only me and my father. There's nothing you can do."

"Peter's not just an Alpha. He's also an excellent lawyer," Stiles jerked his head into his mate's direction. "I'm pretty confident that he can get you out of here."

"I'm not-" Isaac looked troubled, sucking in a breath, like he knew he was lying to himself.

"You shouldn't let him hurt you," Stiles cut in with a frown. "You need to speak up for yourself. You deserve to not be hurt in your own home, by someone who should love you unconditionally."

He had his fingers knitted together in his lap, knuckles white with how tightly he clutched them, trying oh so hard not to think about his mother. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, it was different, it was different. He ground his teeth together and leaned more into Peter, finding the wolf a grounding presence. He could feel Peter's gaze on him and found himself grateful that Peter didn't ask.

"Let us help you. Peter's gonna help you legally, even if you don't join the pack. But if you accept the bite, our pack will have your back and will be the family you need and deserve."

"There are risks to the bite," Peter added gently, once Stiles' words had a chance to sink in. "There is a risk of bite rejection that can end in death. And even if you turn into a wolf, there are still dangers and risks. There are werewolf hunters in town right now, adamant to kill us."

Stiles leaned back into the couch and more or less tuned Peter out as he explained hunters, wolfsbane and mountain ash to Isaac, but Stiles' eyes didn't leave the boy, didn't miss the longing and hope in Isaac's eyes. Stiles knew it didn't matter what Peter said, Isaac already made his choice.

/break\

Jackson, Allison, Scott and Stiles went to the hospital to pick Lydia up the next day. The four of them sat in the waiting area, while Lydia was packing up her things and went through the paperwork to be checked out. Her mom had to work, so her friends had volunteered.

"How did it go last night?" Jackson asked, nudging Stiles' leg with his own.

Becoming a wolf had made Jackson more tactile with his pack and Stiles couldn't decide who was more freaked out about that, Jackson, Stiles or Scott. When Jackson and Scott first cuddled, they were both mortified. Stiles sighed and tilted his head back so he could stare at the ceiling.

"We made our pitch and told him to come to Peter's tonight, if he wants to accept the bite. I'd like if you guys would be there too, the whole pack like with Jackson," Stiles offered.

Scott nodded, looking at the ground. "If he knows the risk and downsides and still wants it…"

Relief filled Stiles' belly. As much as Scott had hated being turned, Jackson actually helped in making Scott realize that the bite could be a gift, if the person accepting it was well-informed and got a choice. Stiles leaned over to brush his shoulder against Scott's.

"Can… I come too?" Allison asked reluctantly. "I know I'm not pack, but…"

"Sure," Stiles looked at her brightly. "You should absolutely spend more time with us. In fact, with all the new hunters in town, our esteemed Alpha ordered us to be paired up at all times and I'd like it if you were thrown into the mix too? Count yourself as a plus one to any of us?"

He motioned at himself and his two betas. Allison blinked before offering a reluctant smile. She was their friend (and Scott's girlfriend), so she was spending time with them anyway. The official invitation to do so in the same ways as the pack would go a long way though, Stiles knew that. Knew that it mattered to feel wanted and not just like an add-on, the way Stiles had felt at the beginning, when it was Scott and Allison hanging out with Lydia and Jackson, while he was just Scott's best friend who got invited because of Scott. Things changed that night in the school, it had forged them into a group and made him feel like he truly belonged with them too.

The four of them turned to look at Lydia when she walked out to them, one perfect eyebrow arched. Stiles took a moment to appreciate what a goddess she was, before he turned to look at Jackson, who would not be able to tear his eyes away from her even if he tried. This was the first time he saw her since turning into a wolf. He looked like his whole world was narrowed down to Lydia. A small smile tugged on Stiles' lips and it was… not as sad as he'd expected. There was no gut-wrecking ache at the realization that Lydia and Jackson were soulmates, no anger or resentment.

"We all worried about you and missed you," Allison offered with a bright smile, pulling her best friend into a tight hug. "C'mon, we're driving you home and then we're ordering pizza."

Lydia hummed, though she seemed curious and was willing to follow them. Jackson, Lydia and Allison went into Jackson's Porsche, while Scott joined Stiles in the Jeep.

"Wait. What's with Roscoe? You didn't have to perform any kind of ritual to make her start."

"Ritual," Stiles snorted and rolled his eyes. "Driving my Jeep isn't magic, I do not perform rituals."

"You do," Scott argued. "The yanking and rattling and order in which you do things-"

"Peter fixed her," Stiles cut him off, cheeks dark red. "He had… everything that was ever broken with Roscoe fixed. All of it. I don't even want to know how much that cost. Buying two new cars was probably cheaper than all these repairs. She's fixed inside and out, every scratch and dent."

Scott grinned at him and looked weirdly pleased. Stiles kept throwing suspicious looks at Scott, waiting for his best friend to crack. He'd perfected the art of making Scott crack without words. Well, most people cracked in the face of his silence. Due to his uncontrollable ramblings, Stiles' silence was incredibly unsettling and effective. Stiles wielded it as a weapon.

"He wanted to buy you a car," Scott blurted out after less than five minutes. "I told him not to. Because Roscoe's important. I'm glad he listened to me."

Stiles blinked surprised and turned to look at the wolf. "So… you… willingly helped Peter out?"

That had Scott squirming in his seat. "I'm still not his number one fan, but… you were right about pack being different. The bonds, with you, Jackson, Derek, Peter… They're… special. And… so far, Peter has been… He hasn't forced any of us to do anything, or threatened anyone, or hurt anyone. And I think… that he genuinely cares for you. Which you deserve. You deserve that."

That had Stiles ducking his head with a furious blush. "Yeah, having a proper pack changed him. Having betas willingly follow him makes him willing lead too. It's a give and give on both sides."

"Not gonna go into the part where he genuinely cares for you, huh?" Scott smirked teasingly. "Listen, it may be super weird for me, like, extremely, but I still… I've been talking about Allison non-stop since I met her, I know I hijacked a lot of our conversations and I want you to know that… that you can talk about Peter with me. I'm your bro. I'll deal with my unease and maybe hearing that he makes you happy will make it easier to tolerate him and get used to this?"

That had Stiles snort a little and bite his lips. "We had a first date. Well, until you lot interrupted."

"That was what we were interrupting two days ago?" Scott's eyes widened. "Shit, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have called and maybe redirected Derek if I'd known."

A small smile spread over Stiles' lips. "I didn't want to tell you, partially because yeah I didn't really know if you wanted to hear about our relationship. Between your resentment of everything he's done before we formed our pack, there's also the… other… stuff. So I wasn't sure…"

"I can't tell if 'other stuff' is code for him being old, or him being a guy, but you're out of your mind if you think either of those are a problem for me," Scott glanced at him with warm eyes. "Like, sure, I wish that if you dated a guy it'd be, like, Danny, who is our age. But you never made a secret out of being into older guys. One can only listen to so many lamentations about that Cole guy from the witch show or Keanu Reeves in that movie with the devil before accepting it."

Stiles' eyes widened. "Oh no, I have a type. Hot, evil lawyers."

Next to him, Scott burst into laughter. Thankfully, they finally pulled up at Lydia's place. Getting out of the car, they followed the other three – Jackson carrying all of Lydia's things, in a gentleman move that had Lydia side-eye him suspiciously. He carried the bag upstairs to her bedroom, while Allison led Lydia toward the living room. Once Jackson returned, they all sat down together. Allison next to Lydia, a hand on her thigh, and Jackson, Stiles and Scott on the other couch. It was funny to Stiles that Jackson and Scott usually found their places on either side of him, like they were sub-consciously guarding the very human Alpha Mate of their pack.

"What do you remember about the attack?" Stiles asked softly.

He folded his hands in his lap tightly, feeling his fingers bent under the pressure in a grounding, borderline painful way. He was trying to keep it together here, he really was. Lydia was so important to him, even if he may have somehow gotten over his crush on her, she had become his friend in these past months. Plus, she was Jackson's mate, so she was pack-adjacent already.

"There was a man…" Lydia had a far-off look on her face. "And then there was a… monster."

Stiles bit down on his closed lips so hard, he drew blood. He hated this. Hated the complicated, conflicting feelings that Peter Hale gave him. On the one hand, he wanted to hate the monster that had torn into his friends, on the other hand, he… wanted to love the man. He didn't. Not yet. But he could feel himself falling for Peter, drawn in by every charming or sarcastic comment, every gentle touch, every display of care for the pack. It would be so easy to fall in love with this man.

"The man was the monster," Stiles spoke softly. "He's a werewolf. An Alpha werewolf – a leader and the only kind of werewolf who can turn others. He was… He was insane."

"Stiles," Lydia shook her head, a confused frown on her face.

"That's why he attacked you," Stiles continued before she could interrupt further. "Pack is incredibly important to werewolves. It means everything. There are… bonds, that can be physically felt. Losing pack is like losing a limb. He'd lost his entire pack in a… horrible tragedy and was stuck in his own body for six years in a coma. Losing his entire pack, losing his autonomy, having been the sole survivor of a terrible fire, he… lost his mind. I'm not trying to justify what he did, it can not be justified, Lydia, it can't, but I'm trying to explain. I need you to understand that werewolves aren't mindless beasts. They aren't monsters."

"You're serious," Lydia blinked slowly. "You're trying to convince me werewolves are real."

Stiles bit his lip again, worrying the split. "Before he attacked you, he had… also attacked Scott. Turned him into a werewolf. Everything weird about Scotty that you certainly noticed in the past months – improved physical strength and coordination on the lacrosse field, the fact that his asthma is suddenly gone – that's because he's a werewolf. The Alpha needed a pack and out of his mind, he attacked blindly and with just the instinctual need for other wolves. Scotty?"

"We need you to stay calm now, Lydia," Allison requested. "It's alright. He's still the same Scott."

Before Lydia could ask what that meant did Scott show his beta-shift. Lydia yelped and jumped back some. When he remained wolved out, Lydia slowly sat down again, a wary look on her face.

"This… This is real," Lydia whispered stunned. "Werewolves are real? Wait. You said the Alpha turns people, turned Scott. Does that mean… am I…?"

"Not as far as we can tell," Stiles shook his head. "For some reason, it didn't take with you. And we, the pack, we'd like to… figure out why. I would like you to be part of our pack, because I know that you must be something, even if we don't know what."

"You want me as part of the pack? You said the Alpha wanted a pack," Lydia frowned at him. "Did… Are you a werewolf too, Stiles? If you're part of this pack too? Of his pack?"

"No," Stiles shook his head. "I'm the Alpha's mate. Because werewolves have soulmates. Allison is Scott's. That's why she isn't surprised by any of this, because she already knows."

Lydia took a shaky breath and looked at him with betrayal. "You're the soulmate of the person who put me in the hospital? And, what, turned Scott against his will? Did I get that right?"

Stiles' hands were shaking a little, his heart feeling tight. "Yes."

"You joined his pack. Willingly, not because he forced you, but because he's your soulmate," Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. "You're not here for me. You're here for him."

"Both," Stiles knew he sounded desperate, looked the part too probably. "I'm here for you both. I… It's complicated, Lydia, and I don't expect you to understand it, especially not right now, you have a lot to digest, but… but yes, I am also here for him. Because he… he means a lot to me. So do you though, Lydia. We're friends. I want to know you're safe."

"I want you to leave, Stiles," Lydia looked at him, blinking away tears.

"Lydia," Jackson was the one to argue, much to Stiles' surprise.

"No," Stiles smiled thinly and shook his head, resting a hand on Jackson's. "You… take over from here. Tell her everything else. I'll… I'm… I'm sorry, Lydia. I really am. I hope you'll understand."

He walked out as slow as he could force himself to, even though he felt like fleeing.

/break\

The apartment door burst open and Peter was assaulted by the scent of tears. "What happened?"

Before he'd even finished the question did Stiles collide with him, burying himself in Peter's chest. Peter's heart felt both heavy and warm at that. Heavy, because his mate was clearly distressed. Warm, because when distressed, Stiles came to seek him out for comfort.

"We talked to Lydia," Stiles muttered after a few minutes. "She sent me away after I told her that I'm your mate. She thinks I chose you over her. I left the others to explain the rest to her..."

"I'm sorry," Peter heaved a heartbroken sigh and pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles' head.

"I should hate you," Stiles pointed out, his fingers in Peter's shirt tightening. "But I can't."

For a split second, Peter couldn't breathe, because yes, Stiles probably should hate him. And then he relaxed, marginally. His arms around Stiles tightened, pulling his mate as close as he could.

"I know, darling," Peter whispered. "And I'm sorry. I'll work hard on making it up to you, love."

Stiles' heart stumbled a little over the pet name, but he didn't let go of Peter, if anything, he clung onto the Alpha even tighter. Peter ran a gentle hand up and down Stiles' spine, simply holding him until the rest of the pack arrived hours later. Isaac was the last one to arrive, looking nervous.

"Is… Is Lydia alright?" Stiles asked in an uncharacteristically small voice.

Peter hated hearing his mate like that. Stiles was brash and loud and sure of himself. This? This was Peter's fault and he knew he would never forgive himself for hurting his mate like that.

"Allison is with her and they called Danny over to join them for pizza," Jackson answered softly. "She… She got angry at me for accepting the bite without talking to her about it, which also… She just decided that we're back together, I guess? So I don't think she's too mad about it."

Stiles gave a jerky nod and then turned toward Isaac. "Okay. Guess you want to join our pack?"

The blonde boy nodded, his eyes wandering between everyone in the room.

Peter stepped up to Isaac with a smile. "I'm going to bite you, we generally do it in the sides, fleshy and heals easier. You'll go through the change during the night, we're all going to stay here with you to make sure it takes and that you won't run off. Tomorrow, we'll start teaching you about your wolf and how to control it. You're not alone with it, we will all help you. Okay?"

Isaac took a step forward, holding Peter's gaze. "Okay."

Peter's eyes glowed red when he lifted Isaac's shirt, fangs long and sharp as they sank into the flesh.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Congratulations, It's Puppies! (3)

There was pizza, also pasta, and pizza rolls. Everyone claimed that wolves had a high metabolism and that the change would eat up his energy. Isaac was wary. He… didn't really have friends, he'd always been alone. Suddenly, Stiles, Jackson and Scott were there, stayed with him as support? Because he was going to join their pack? What did Jackson Whittemore care about him?

The whole night was bizarre, start to finish. Peter Hale bit him, sank his fangs – fangs – into Isaac's side until he drew blood. Scott bandaged him up afterward and then they all gathered in the living room to eat together. The bite hurt, but it wasn't the worst thing he'd ever experienced.

"How do you plan on helping me?" Isaac asked, staring at his pizza-slice. "About my dad?"

"I'd like to check your medical record, I am assuming there are enough suspicious hospital visits in there," Peter replied, voice very gentle. "Jackson says that the abuse is an open secret in your neighborhood, so I'll… intimidate some of your neighbors into testifying."

"And then?" Isaac looked up. "I'll end up in foster care? Is that any better?"

"I'll be your Alpha. I'm responsible for you," Peter answered. "I'll file for guardianship over you."

That surprised Isaac. His eyes widened and wandered from Peter over to Stiles, Jackson, Scott and Derek. They all held his gaze. He… They were really ready to help him? Actually help him? His stomach fluttered in something that he wasn't used to anymore. A sense of safety.

/break\

They were at lacrosse practice the next day, with Isaac really enjoying his werewolfly update, much to Stiles' personal exasperation. Now there were three wolves on the team. He was never getting off that damn bench. His eyes followed Isaac, Scott and Jackson. While it looked like they were just training, to Stiles it had a bit more of an edge like puppies playing around in the park.

The bite had taken, Isaac had woken up exhausted and a werewolf, flashing golden eyes at them over breakfast. Stiles reached up to rub his chest, still getting used to the feeling of pack-bonds. Now there was a new one, still fresh and tentative. He wondered just how intense these things must be feeling for Peter, as the Alpha. They were already so intense for Stiles and he was just human.

"Isaac Lahey. I gotta talk to you for a moment, son."

And the man's actual son just stared at him wide-eyed. Why was the sheriff here? At training? And why did he want to talk to Isaac? Stiles tried to ask all these questions with one intense glare that was consequently ignored by Noah. Isaac threw a near helpless look Stiles' way, but after a moment of frustrated reluctance, Stiles nodded and urged him on to follow. As soon as Noah and Isaac had stepped off the field to talk did Stiles rush to his other betas.

"What are they talking about?" Stiles asked, staring at the two werewolves.

Scott's face said near more than his mouth, with the wide-eyed surprise, close to panic. "H… His dad is dead. And the neighbors heard them fight last night. I think…"

Isaac was a suspect in his father's death. Stiles' eyes bulged and his heart-rate picked up with panic. They had promised Isaac they'd help him and now Isaac was going to be arrested? He was a newly turned wolf too, that was a disaster in the making. Without thinking on it did Stiles run over the field to nearly crash into Isaac when he reached the two.

"Stiles," Noah sighed with years of exasperation. "You will not insert yourself into another case."

"Well, too late for that!" Stiles straightened up and lifted both hands. "Because I'm his alibi!"

"You're his… what," Noah stared in utter disbelief at his son.

"Alibi?" Isaac looked at Stiles in distress. "Do I need an alibi?"

"Does he need an alibi?" Stiles asked in challenge, holding his dad's gaze.

"Listen, kid," Noah sighed again, looking at Isaac. "Your neighbors heard you two fight last night, around eight, and then you both left in a hurry. Neither of you came home at all and then your father's body was found this morning… I am asking you to come to the station with me."

"He didn't do it! He has an alibi," Stiles pointed at himself. "We were together all night."

"How convenient for you, son who likes to insert himself into my investigations."

Stiles glared offended and straightened up. "If you don't believe me, ask Jackson and Scott!"

He motioned at his other betas and waved them over. Noah looked only even more suspicious.

"So you were not just with Scott, overnight on a school night, but also…" Noah frowned at Jackson. "Whittemore is it, right? And Isaac Lahey. I didn't even know you knew him."

Stiles ground his teeth together and crossed his arms. "Well, maybe if you'd get home from work before I'm in bed, you would know that I have other non-Scott friends now."

His dad visibly flinched at that and Stiles felt a little guilty for a moment. But no actually, he was right. When was the last time the two of them had sat down together and talked. Not about a case, not about accusations regarding Stiles' lying. Just ask what Stiles' day was like.

"Scott's dating Allison and Allison and Lydia are best friends and Jackson is Lydia's boyfriend, so yeah, I've spent pretty much the entire school year so far hanging out with Scott and Jackson."

And that wasn't even a lie either, huh. Jackson next to him shrugged and Scott nodded.

"So the four of you were having a sleepover?" Noah asked instead. "Where? Not at the Laheys', not at ours either. Were you at Scott's? Can Melissa confirm this?"

Oh. Uhm. Okay, this was were things got maybe a little tricky. Stiles' brain went into overdrive.

"We were at the Hales'," Stiles said, feeling all three wolves stare at him intensely at that.

"The Hales?" Noah looked startled. "The preserve? You were at the old Hale House? Stiles-"

"No, no, we did not break into private property or hang out in the woods at night!" Stiles flailed, just a little. "We were at the apartment, where they actually live. At the Hales'."

Stiles could visually see his father age ten years. "Stiles… Hale, as in Derek Hale, former two times murder suspect? Both times because of accusations made by you and Scott? But you and Scott were… what? Hanging out with him? Are you… Are you serious?"

"Well, I mean," Stiles frowned a little. "We did reconcile after the… misunderstandings. But the four of us weren't at the Hales' for Derek, we were there for Peter."

"Peter Hale? Derek's uncle? What, are you friends too?" Noah narrowed his eyes. "Stiles."

"You keep saying my name like it holds a secret meaning," Stiles huffed and crossed his arms. "We were there to talk about Isaac's legal options, because Peter is a lawyer."

"Legal options," Noah raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"Yeah, all these amazing neighbors of his who can point fingers now and heard them fight? They could have pointed fingers before, when his dad was abusing him," Stiles bared his teeth a little. "We spent all night yesterday talking to Peter about building a case against Mister Lahey, to get Isaac out of an abusive home the legal way."

The look on his dad's face changed, much less exasperated and instead contemplative. Still sour though. Stiles fidgeted again, nervous, and reached out for Isaac on instinct to take his hand.

"I still need to talk to you at the station, Isaac. If nothing else, you're the last one to see him alive."

"Can we get changed and grab our things first?" Stiles asked.

"We?" Noah raised both eyebrows. "I'm taking his little alibi club with me, I take it?"

"Ye—ep," Stiles grinned broadly. "C'mon, guys, let's hurry."

He herded the betas over to the locker room and quickly got changed. Half-way through, he grabbed his phone and dialed, getting changed with the phone between his ear and shoulder.

"Darling, aren't you supposed to be at practice right now?"

The anxiety and stress he'd been feeling since his dad stepped onto the lacrosse field eased when he heard his mate's voice and Stiles allowed himself to take a slow, deep breath. Closing his eyes, he focused on the warmth of their matebond buzzing in his mind.

"I need you to come to the station as fast as you can," Stiles bit his lips. "My dad is about to arrest Isaac for the murder of his father. Also, I gave me, Jackson and Scott as alibi. My dad knows that we were at your place last night. Obviously, I didn't tell him about any of the wolfly things, just the… legal stuff we talked about. He knows that now. Just so you know. So. Lawyer up, Hale."

/break\

Peter in a well-cut suit, all business and sharp-tongued did things to Stiles that went far beyond lust, it was a near primal need that Stiles had never experienced like that before. His brain, always working hard and thinking ten thoughts at one, was reduced to holy shit on repeat while Peter talked circles around the sheriff. Because of course had Peter come waltzing into the sheriff station claiming all four of them as his clients, so Stiles actually got a front-row seat to Peter's lawyering during his own interrogation. The flaring of Peter's nostrils at multiple points clued Stiles in that the holy shit in his head may also have translated into his scent, embarrassingly enough.

The urge to kiss Peter senseless when they were all let go was incredibly overwhelming, but thankfully enough, Isaac, Jackson, Scott and Derek were there to distract him. His father's eyes boring into the back of his skull did also help discourage him. All of this would be so much easier if he could just tell his dad the truth, instead, his father was staring at him with so much distrust again.

As the full moon came up that night, he tried to push these thoughts deep, deep down.

The pack was meeting in the preserve for it, out in the open where the wolves could really embrace their inner wolf and run free while learning control. Considering that Stiles' method so far had been to chain Scott up, he was a little wary about it, but he chose to trust his mate for now.

"They – especially Scott, Scott more so than the others – need to learn to be one with their wolf," Peter noted softly, resting a hand on Stiles' lower back. "They were bitten, so the wolf isn't a natural part of them, not yet. They'll have to learn to trust their instincts and… feel it."

"Right. Yeah, no, that makes sense, I just," Stiles frowned, arms crossed.

"I know, darling," Peter chuckled amused, like he really did know where Stiles was going.

Hell, Stiles didn't even know where he was going with this. He was worried they'd hurt someone. They'd be seen. They'd be hunted down by the Argents who were in Beacon Hills right now.

"Okay, pups," Peter spoke up and approached the betas. "The pull of the moon is overwhelming for you right now and I need you to not fight it. Fighting it is what builds the aggression. You have to let your wolf guide you, it's not your enemy, it is a part of you."

Stiles held his breath as he watched Scott, Jackson and Isaac slip into their beta-shift. There was growling and snarling and Jackson and Scott went at each other. Stiles instinctively took a step forward, but Derek's hand on his chest stopped him. The oldest beta was shaking his head.

"They heal," Derek muttered. "They're competitive as humans already. Right now, their wolves want to go at it. Let them. If it escalates, Peter will step in. But if you step in? You're human."

Stiles ground his teeth together at the reminder. He was very much aware of that fact and sometimes, he hated it. Sometimes, it felt like he was running at full speed trying to catch up with people who just took a leisure walk. Sighing, he took a step back.

/break\

Erica Reyes was one of these people who just kind of existed. There were people, like Jackson and Lydia, who always drew attention, who made people think 'I wish that was me'. Golden couple and all that. Others, Stiles was semi-friendly with. But Erica had always kind of been one of those people who existed at the fringe of Stiles' life without ever really entering it.

When she had a seizure during PE, Stiles decided that needed to change. There was nobody there for her. She went down and if not for Scott catching her, his werewolf senses telling him that something was wrong before it even happened, she would have seriously injured herself. But even after things calmed down, there was just… nobody. Stiles, Allison and Isaac had stepped up in concern and checked in with them because it was Scott who'd caught her, but no one came solely for her. No friends who were worried for her or volunteered to go to the nurse's office with her.

A similar thought crossed Stiles' mind a few days later when he sat down opposite Vernon Boyd, who sat… all alone… at a table in the cafeteria, as he always did. They involuntarily made Stiles think of Isaac and of just how much the pack was already doing for the kid. Having someone to hang out with, to bond with. The full moon run had done a lot in bringing Isaac, Jackson and Scott closer. Stiles handed over the cash to get the keys to the ice skating ring from Boyd and kept the boy in his mind even as he returned to the table with his pack.

"What were you doing with Boyd?" Isaac asked with a frown.

Stiles grinned and dangled the keys. "So we are having a bonding activity. Ice skating."

Lydia opposite him perked up a little and actually looked at him. She'd been effectively avoiding him. This was an attempt at bribery. He knew she loved ice skating and he hoped that maybe, in a group setting, she'd willingly spend time with him again. He was really trying to get back in her good graces. Danny was looking very intensely between them all. Yeah, that boy was absolutely too smart to not catch on with the fact that something was going on, especially now that Isaac, out of seemingly nowhere, was included in their growing group.

"Am I invited to this too, or is this another one of these 'game nights at Stilinski's' that wouldn't be of interest to me?" Danny asked, throwing a pointed look at Jackson.

Was that how Jackson explained away their pack nights? Stiles grinned and stared at Danny.

"Nope, you are free to come along. Would make me and Isaac feel less awkward maybe, what with these four being all lovey-dovey all the time," Stiles tilted his head. "And hey, maybe you should come along to some of these game nights at Stilinski's too."

Jackson wasn't the only one at the table to tense. Stiles thought he wasn't wrong though. Danny was already on the fringe of things and especially now with Lydia in the know too, he was the only person in their close orbit who didn't know. Besides, if Peter wanted to add more betas to the pack for numbers and strength, why not someone who was already pack-adjacent anyway?

/break\

Peter was in the middle of sorting through legal documents, all regarding Isaac – a rushed request for guardianship, which now had a slightly stronger case, what with the boy being orphaned and Peter already acting as his lawyer, as well as everything from the investigation at hand. It was the way Mister Lahey had been killed that concerned Peter, because he suspected it to not be human. Though he did consider himself, and the pup, lucky that they had turned him that night. That Isaac had a rock-solid alibi. Peter's apartment building had cameras at the entrance and in the elevator, so Isaac's arrival and when him and the others left was well-documented and it would have been physically impossible for Isaac to kill his father at one end of town and get to Peter's on time. He was also fairly glad that they had talked legal actions and options too and not just turned the boy, so they all could give moderately honest statements that checked out with each other.

The door opened and Peter didn't even look up. Now, with both Derek and Isaac living here, there was a constant coming and going in the place that had always only been Peter's. He found himself oddly not minding him. Isaac was a quiet boy, but when he warmed up to someone, he could be quite the sarcastic little shit and Peter did so delight in those, being one of those himself. He did look up when the scent of his mate filled his senses. Moments later and Stiles threw himself onto the couch, sprawled out so his head was in Peter's lap. The Alpha blinked down at him.

"Did you have fun at the ice rink, darling?" Peter asked, carding his fingers through Stiles' hair.

"Mhmh," Stiles sighed contently and closed his eyes, lashes drawing long shadows on his cheeks. "Lydia even talked to me a few sentences. Though she was mostly busy making out with Jackson on the ice, which is a new flavor of them. Do not need that. Scott was a fucking disaster, you should have seen him land on his face, I swear Allison had to fully guide him. Isaac is kind of a natural though. And Danny is good too, but then of course he is, Danny is practically perfect."

Peter hummed, half his attention back on his paperwork while listening to his mate. He could really get used to these things. To having Stiles in his den, telling him about his day. Especially now that two of their betas were living with him, he craved his pack even more.

"So—o. You're still looking for betas, right?" Stiles cracked one eye open. "Because I have three suggestions. Danny is one of them, because he is already Jackson's best friend and hanging out with our pack all the time and putting him in the know just makes sense."

"I expected it. You have been singing his praises… a lot… lately," Peter attempted to not sound jealous, but judging by the grin on Stiles' face, he failed miserably. "Who else?"

"Erica, she's in our class and she has epilepsy and I had to think about how the bite cured Scott's asthma," Stiles sat up at that. "Besides, she's always alone. And so is Boyd. They kinda… don't have anyone. They could both use a pack. Plus, turning people who don't come with their own social circle does reduce a Danny and Lydia situation of 'well, maybe they should know too'."

"If you think they are good choices, I'm willing to meet them and make my pitch."

"Maybe not all three at once," Stiles frowned. "I think you and me talk to Boyd and Erica on our own. And meet Danny with the entire pack, so Jackson can be support and stuff."

"Anything you like, darling," Peter didn't resist the urge to kiss his mate's temple.

A small smile played on Stiles' lips even as he blushed. "You are so—o whipped."

"You have me wrapped around your little finger," Peter agreed, full of sincerity.

/break\

Werewolves and hunters and pack were a lot to take in. But the biggest thing on Erica's mind was that this could be a cure. No more seizures. Risk of death was worth that for her. When Stiles, her middle school crush, had approached her and invited her somewhere she had first thought it was a prank. But she'd gone anyway, just to find herself next to Boyd on a couch, listening to a handsome guy tell them about the supernatural. The next day, she came back to his apartment, determined. She shyly met Boyd's eyes when he entered the elevator with her.

"So you've decided to do this too, huh?" Boyd asked softly.

"I could be… like everyone else," Erica shrugged, tucking her messy hair behind her ear. "You?"

"Not eating alone every day sounds good," Boyd looked away. "I mean, I'm not the only one who noticed when Stilinski and McCall went from the outsiders who at least had each other to sitting at the popular table. And they all seem… close. And happy. If that's pack? I want that."

Erica hummed in agreement, rocking a little on her feet. He was right, that part sounded great too. This time, when they rang Peter's doorbell and Stiles opened, others were inside too. Jackson and Scott were arguing over pizza, Isaac was setting the table, waving at them when he saw them. Lydia and Allison sat together in one corner of the room, Lydia's eyes practically burning as she glared at Peter. There was another guy, a hot older guy who was trying to break up Scott and Jackson. The scene they walked into reminded Erica of every family shot in a sitcom that she had always envied. She loved her parents, but they were overbearing at all times, always concerned she may hurt herself due to a seizure, and it was only them and her. This pack thing? It sounded good, it looked good from the outside. If they wanted her? She wanted to be wanted.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: To Tell the Truth

Allison felt really exhausted by it all. With her grandfather in town, she was finally being taught about the family trait. Her dad had abducted her and locked her in a room to free herself. When she'd finally managed to do it, one of her family's hunters had praised her, told her she'd done good with a grin. She'd talked a little to him, on the drive to the Argent home again. To learn more about the hunters in general. He told her about a mission they'd been on before coming to Beacon Hills, to make her fear wolves. How they'd tracked down a feral, dangerous Alpha who had torn into him and killed other hunters he'd been with. And she didn't doubt that wolves could be dangerous.

But that wasn't her pack. And at this point, she thought of them as hers. Scott was her boyfriend, her mate, and Stiles and Jackson were her friends. Peter still regarded her warily, but she understood it. Her family had done incredible damage to him, had killed his family. She wanted to do better, to be better. Now there were Isaac, Boyd and Erica too. In an attempt to bond with Erica and to bring Lydia more into the pack, Allison suggested a shopping trip.

"That really suits you," Allison grinned broadly as Erica twirled in front of them.

She was wearing a knee-long red skirt that flared and black leather boots. The kind of clothes she'd never really been allowed to wear. Tripping in heels during a seizure was too dangerous, she couldn't wear dresses or skirts because she was afraid someone would upskirt her during a seizure, there had already been enough embarrassing pictures and videos of her as was. Now that her epilepsy was cured, she could wear whatever she wanted, could express herself.

"Here," Lydia handed Erica a heap of more clothes. "These should go well with your complexion."

Erica grinned broadly and went back to the changing room. Allison could see how much this meant to her too. Before turning into a werewolf, she hadn't had any friends. Allison knew that was why Stiles had picked her, after they'd all witnessed her seizure. She'd been alone and in pain. They could take her pain away and they could offer her a sense of community, the same way Allison enjoyed so much. All these years of traveling, of never putting down roots and finally she had real friends.

"You have to forgive Stiles," Allison said softly to Lydia while they waited. "He didn't do anything to hurt you on purpose. And… And neither did Peter. I've spent so much time with him in the past weeks and he isn't that feral beast that chased us through the school. He was… out of his mind. He isn't anymore, his matebond with Stiles and the pack-bonds with us helped stabilize him."

"So it's all good, then?" Lydia asked with a glare, her fingers clawed into her skirt. "He tore me up, put me in the hospital, nearly killed me. But he wasn't in control, so it's all good."

"No," Allison sighed. "But it's… complicated. I can't imagine the trauma he's been through and it messed with his head, even though that doesn't minimize your trauma. But what he did was an instinctual response. If it helps you… this Peter, the Peter who is our Alpha, isn't the same person anymore as the one who attacked you."

Lydia heaved a deep sigh at that and averted her eyes, clearly thinking about the night at Peter's when Boyd and Erica had been turned. She had watched Peter tensely all night and she must have seen the very thing Allison had said. But Allison understood Lydia too. She'd gone through something traumatic and painful and these things were easier with someone to be blamed.

This time, when Erica returned to them, she looked nearly flustered as she sat down with them, kicking her feet.

"So… uhm… Can you guys explain something to me?" Erica asked, playing with her curls. "It's like, after we got turned, when I looked at Boyd… everything else fell away? And time stopped? I never felt like that. It was like love at first sight, but I've seen Boyd before. And I mean, he is really handsome and cute, but this was super intense?"

Allison's eyes were sparkling near mischievously. "Okay, let me tell you about True Mates…"

/break\

Being paralyzed actually sucked. Stiles had just meant to have the scratches on Roscoe fixed – because the wolves playing around in the woods had accidentally scratched her new, shiny paint. And then a humanoid lizard attacked the mechanic. Stiles tried to run but touched something slimy and suddenly, he couldn't move anymore. Paralyzed on the floor, forced to watch the lizard person kill the mechanic. The look of worry, followed by exasperation on his dad's face when the deputies arrived…

"Darling, are you alright?" Peter's voice was urgent and concerned as he came rushing in.

Stiles was sitting curled together in a blanket at his car. For the first time since the lizard had appeared, Stiles felt safe and like he could breath again. He leaned forward against Peter's chest, not caring if anyone could see them. Peter wrapped his arms around him.

"There was a lizard," Stiles whispered. "A giant lizard killed my mechanic."

"Mh," Peter made a contemplative noise even as he started excessively scent-marking Stiles. "I knew there was something suspicious about the death of Isaac's father. We may have to do more research. And we should move the timetable on putting your friend Danny in the know, if there is a new threat in town."

Stiles took a shaky breath and nuzzled into Peter's neck, relishing in his comfort.

/break\

"Werewolves, huh," Danny blinked slowly, looking from his best friend to everyone else.

"Yeah," Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. "That's why I've been spending so much time with Scott, Stiles and now Isaac. I just… You're my… best friend. And hanging out with the pack too."

"There are two offers on the table," Stiles added. "You can join the pack. You can receive the bite and become a werewolf. You don't have to be a wolf to join the pack. Me and Ally are human. But if you want, the offer is on the table. And if you don't want to be involved in this mess at all, you don't have to join the pack."

Danny nodded and looked around once more. Lydia was here too, having arrived at Peter's together with Jackson and Danny. It made sense that she wanted to be here for this, since Danny was also a close friend to her. But this was the second time now that she was part of a big pack meeting, after having witnessed Boyd and Erica turning into werewolves. Stiles sat on the other couch, together with Boyd, Erica and Isaac, while Allison and Scott sat on the same couch as Lydia, Jackson and Danny. Both Derek and Peter had opted to stand behind Stiles, on either side of him.

"I think I need some time to digest all of this," Danny admitted. "I mean, I knew something was off with this town. The whole 'cougar attacks' thing… was suspicious. But… werewolves?"

"We'll answer all questions you may have," Peter assured him. "Not just right now. If you have more questions, you can reach out to any of us."

As the conversation dissolved more into catching Danny up on how everyone was adjusting to this, Stiles got up and walked out onto the balcony. He needed some air. Telling Lydia, telling Danny, the newly added betas… All he could think of was his dad, who looked at him like he didn't recognize his own son anymore. His hands were shaking as he clung onto the handle surrounding the balcony.

"I'm not mad at you," Lydia's voice was soft as she slipped out to join him. "You didn't choose your… soulmate. I'm mad at… at everything. At this whole situation. At my own helplessness."

Blinking, Stiles turned to look at her. She stepped up next to him, looking out at the beautiful sunset over Beacon Hills. Swallowing hard, Stiles also returned his attention to the sunset.

"I get that," Stiles whispered. "I didn't exactly start out with date nights with Peter either, I held what he did to you and Scott against him too. But he… All he wants is pack. Now, he has that."

"I can't be out of the loop anymore," Lydia declared firmly. "I need to not feel helpless anymore."

Stiles reached out to take her hand, squeezing it. "I can't promise you that you won't feel helpless anymore. There's hunters and now there is a killer lizard on the lose and we don't… But we watch out for each other."

Lydia squeezed his hand back and something tight in his chest eased.

/break\

Peter bolted out of a restless sleep with cold sweat running down his temple. His hand was shaking as he brushed back his hair and wiped away the sweat. The nightmare had started normal enough, with fire and the screams of his family, but then it twisted into something new and horrifying. There was the creature, a vague lizard-like monster, and Stiles, on the floor, not moving as it stalked up to him and then there were screams – Stiles' screams. Taking slow, deep breaths, Peter tried to calm himself down as he got out of his bed. He, near instinctively, checked in on Derek and Isaac, both asleep in their respective rooms. Then he walked to the living room to get himself a wolfsbane-laced whiskey to sit down on the couch and drink. Try to chase the fear away.

The hunters were one threat. A known threat. And Peter felt like he had his pack together, now even more. With Derek, Scott, Jackson, Isaac, Erica and Boyd, he had strong beta wolves, solid pack-bonds that in return strengthened him. He could even feel Allison and Danny, though both bonds were weaker than the ones to the other wolves. Partially because they were human, partially because Peter still didn't fully trust Allison, and Danny had only joined them yesterday. Even Lydia was coming around, was getting herself involved with the pack. So Peter knew his mate to be safe, knew he had a good, loyal pack at his side. He did not fear the hunters.

But now there was a new threat, a threat Peter couldn't yet identify. A threat that had paralyzed Peter's mate, when Stiles had been all alone and defenseless. It had killed someone, right in front of Stiles, and could have so easily killed Stiles too. There was nothing anyone could have done, not even Stiles. Defenseless, paralyzed by the monster's venom, alone. And Peter couldn't breath.

"Hey. Hey, look at me. Wherever you are in your head, I need you with me now. C'mon, focus on my voice. You need to slow down your breathing for me, okay? Breath in, with me, nice and slow. And now hold it. There you go, now out again, slow. Good. Can you do it again?"

Peter listened to the instructions until he could breath evenly again and the world around him came more into focus. In front of him was Stiles, gently cupping Peter's face. Peter blinked at the boy.

"Stiles…? What are you doing here, darling? It's the middle of the night…?"

Stiles stared at him with those big, beautiful doe-eyes, all warm and soft. "I was woken up by a very painful and panicky feeling coming through our matebond. And then you didn't pick up your phone, so I grabbed my car keys and rushed over here, just to find you in the middle of a panic attack."

"Panic attack," Peter blinked a couple times. "Is that what just happened…?"

"Yeah, you had a panic attack," Stiles looked at him concerned. "Wanna tell me what got to you?"

Peter ran shaky fingers through his hair. "I had a… bad dream. About… the lizard creature attacking you, about it… killing you. Losing you. I can't lose you. I lost too much, I can't lose you, I can't-"

"You're not losing me, Peter," Stiles sighed and got up, tugging on Peter's hands. "C'mon, let's get you back to bed, Prettywolf. You need your beauty sleep."

Prettywolf…? That was new. That sounded nice. Peter liked that. He blinked curiously at his beautiful mate. He let himself be pulled up and back toward his own bedroom.

"Why do you know how to deal with a panic attack?"

Stiles paused for a moment when closing the bedroom door behind them both. "My… After my mom died, I used to have panic attacks. Dad learned how to get me out of them, I just… copied."

Stiles' mother again. One day, Peter wanted to get on the bottom of that. He sighed as he sank onto his bed. Not tonight though. He felt absolutely drained after this whole ordeal. He tilted his head as he watched Stiles shrug out of his jeans and crawl into the bed with Peter.

"Darling, what are you doing…?" Peter asked reluctantly.

Stiles snuggled into the pillow and wrapped the blanket around himself like he belonged there. "I'm not leaving you alone after this, Peter. Besides, dad's out on a night shift anyway."

All Peter could do was stare at the marvel that was his mate. Stiles had felt something off through the bond and had immediately come to him, to take care of him, was now staying to comfort him? Slowly, Peter laid down next to Stiles, staring at his mate. In his den, in his bed, right next to him. He wasn't entirely sure how to proceed with this. What was he allowed…? Thankfully, Stiles took that decision from him by snuggling up to him and wrapping a possessive arm around Peter's waist.

"You got me, Peter," Stiles whispered, voice firm. "You haven't lost me, okay?"

/break\

They had a plan. A solid plan. They were going to steal Gerard Argent's bestiary, in the hopes of finding information about the creature in there. Stiles, Derek and Erica went to the principal's office to steal the bestiary, while Scott, Jackson, Boyd and Isaac were playing in the lacrosse game. Lydia and Danny sat with Allison near the Argent family, to make sure Gerard wouldn't return. Peter was busy with Isaac's case, but that was fine, Stiles had told his mate that it was fine.

It was not fine. Before they got to the damn office did they see the lizard. The trio rushed after it into the pool area of the school. It knocked Erica out and paralyzed Derek. The creature was stalking them and Stiles had no idea what to do. He grabbed Derek and jumped into the pool with him, grateful that the creature was either afraid of water or couldn't swim.

"The others are going to look for us after the game," Stiles muttered breathlessly.

He was holding Derek up, treading water for the both of them, Derek dead weight of pure muscle. The beta stared at him in something akin to surprise. Maybe he had expected Stiles to run away. What Derek definitely hadn't expected was for Stiles to be able to tread water and hold Derek upright for two hours. At one point, Stiles let go of Derek and swam up to the edge of the pool to get his phone and call Peter. He barely got out 'Lizard. Pool. Help', before he dropped the phone and dove back under water to grab Derek and pull the sinking wolf back up.

Stiles kept at it, every muscle in his body burning but the adrenaline and fear kept him going. He pushed himself, until he couldn't anymore. Fatigue was getting to him and he knew he had to let go, not just of Derek. He wouldn't be able to keep himself upright anymore either. A loud roar and a crash and then there was his mate, with red-blazing eyes, claws sinking into the creature and throwing it out of the way. Peter pulled Derek and Stiles out of the water, putting himself between his paralyzed beta and his exhausted mate. Not liking being defenseless, Stiles grabbed a shard from the shattered mirror, holding it up as he stood behind Peter. The lizard froze, staring at its own reflection with no recognition before it seemed to nearly recoil from it and flee. All energy and adrenaline left him now that the danger was gone and Stiles just collapsed. He would have landed on the ground if not for Peter catching him and pulling him close.

"Sweetheart, what happened? Are you alright?" Peter sounded so concerned.

"Fine," Stiles gasped out, lungs burning. "Exhausted. Too… much. Check on Erica."

"Okay," Peter took a deep breath and slowly put him down. "Stay here, love."

Stiles' heart stumbled at the term of endearment when he was placed down next to Derek. The beta, slowly regaining movement, leaned closer to Stiles, a warm look on his face.

"You saved me," Derek muttered. "You could have run."

"We're pack," Stiles glared at Derek in defiance. "I protect those who are mine, Sourwolf."

When Derek looked at him, it was with… respect in his eyes. Stiles' eyelids fluttered shut and he leaned heavily against the wolf, slipping off into much needed sleep.

/break\

Stiles woke up to voices all around him and fingers in his hair. He stretched, just to groan at the burning in his muscles. The hand in his hair slipped to his neck and the pain left him. He sighed relieved and nuzzled into the thigh he was laying on.

"This pain-drain stuff is amazing," Stiles mumbled sleepily.

"You are amazing," Erica argued. "You were like a real superhero, like Batman or something. You kept Derek afloat for two hours?! And you're not even a wolf."

Stiles grinned lazily and sat up, bumping shoulders with her. Peter reached for Stiles' leg to place it on his lap. The wolf rolled up the pant-leg and started massaging Stiles' calves. Oh, that felt good.

"You're going to cramp, you overexerted yourself, darling," Peter whispered gently.

Stiles hummed, contently leaning against Erica while Peter massaged him. "Update me, guys."

The whole pack was gathered, they were at the Hales' again. Derek stood with his arms crossed, eyes not leaving Stiles. Yeah, Stiles had totally won the Sourwolf over today. Hah. Stiles grinned.

"Peter and Derek identified it as a kanima," Boyd supplied. "It's… When the bite doesn't really take? Someone bitten by an Alpha who didn't turn into a proper wolf."

"We got the thumb drive," Erica added, motioning toward Peter's laptop. "It has information on the kanima, but it's all in ancient Latin. Thankfully, we have a redheaded genius among us."

"Archaic Latin," Lydia corrected with an eye-roll. "Though the genius part is correct. The bestiary says that the kanima seeks a master. Which means it's a mind-controlled puppet, essentially."

Breathing came a little easier to him at these news. His eyes found Boyd on Erica's other side. The two of them had realized the day after they got turned that they were each other's mates. First time that Stiles got to see that between two werewolves, where both sides felt the pull. They were being super cute and kept touching one way or another, it was adorable.

"So, we know what it is and that it's not working alone. We don't know who it is though. Do we know how we can figure that out? And how we can stop it?" Stiles asked, looking around.

"Oh, everyone looked at me very awkwardly when we reached the explanation on what it is," Lydia flipped her hair back and gave Peter a scathing glare. "After all, I got bitten by an Alpha but didn't turn into a werewolf. However, apparently you can test that with the kanima's venom."

"We saved some from the pool," Scott added, shifting a little. "Lydia's not it."

"Of course not. Lydia is a banshee," Peter added. "Which I will gladly discuss in great detail with Lydia at a later date. But yes, it must be someone else. But the only people I bit without their consent were Lydia and Scott. I didn't attack anyone else while I was feral."

There was a thoughtful frown on Allison's face. "There's a hunter, who came here with my grandfather. He told me about having been attacked by an Alpha before they came here…"

Peter hummed curiously. "Do you think you can test him? Take some venom with you?"

Allison nodded determined and grabbed a vile of kanima venom.

/break\

Stiles was nervous as he sat opposite his dad, with Peter at his side. After Peter's panic attack, the Alpha had suggested telling Stiles' father the truth and after the pool incident, Stiles agreed. If something supernatural happened to him and his dad wouldn't be able to know…? Besides, this threat could harm his dad, or the investigation could go sideways. Peter squeezed his neck.

"What do you want to talk to me about that you feel like you need a lawyer for it?"

The sheriff narrowed his eyes at Peter and sat down opposite Stiles. "He's not here as my lawyer. But it's time… It's time we really talk, dad. About everything. I hate these lies between us. I love you, dad. I love you and I can't lose you, I need to tell you and I need you to believe me…"

Noah's eyes softened as he reached out over the table to grab Stiles' hand. "You're not losing me. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm your dad, Stiles. I'll always love you."

Stiles took a deep breath and braced himself to tell his dad everything about werewolves.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Hunters and the Hunted

Werewolves. Hunters. Killer lizards. And yet, somehow, the hardest thing to digest for Noah was the fact that his son had a thirty-five year old soulmate who was a werewolf and a lawyer. And Noah could not decide which of these four factors was the worst. But the man kept hovering, kept reassuring Stiles and getting him through telling Noah everything. When Noah looked at Peter, he saw the genuine devotion and raw love on the man's face every time he looked at Stiles. It was the kind of look Noah and Claudia had always wished for their son. But did it have to be a thirty-five year old werewolf and lawyer? He rubbed his face in exhaustion.

"We… haven't… uh… done anything yet, you know," Stiles entire face was red as he whispered that. "And I mean anything. We haven't even kissed. I just… He's… mine. And at first, I thought that would be something I could use to my advantage, but… he really is mine. He's there for me when nobody else is, he listens to me, heeds my advise, wants my input. He… makes me feel important and appreciated and… I think I love him, dad."

That last sentence was barely a whisper and Stiles didn't meet his father's eyes. Peter had left the house an hour ago, after they wrapped everything important up. Now it were just the Stilinski men. Noah sighed and looked at his son. His son, who hadn't told him the truth for so long because he was afraid Noah would reject him. He wrapped his arms around Stiles and hugged him close.

"I love you, kiddo. I love you so much," Noah whispered. "Nothing's ever gonna change that. I don't… like… this, but I can see that there's no changing your mind. Or… fate, as you will. But I'll be giving him a hard time until you turn eighteen, you understand me? And if he does anything to you before then, I will find out how to kill a werewolf and I will make it hurt."

"I'll pass the threat on," Stiles snorted softly and buried himself in his dad's chest. "Thank you."

Noah sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of his son's head. "Thank you for telling me the truth. Now. How about we go through this whole case, together? With the supernatural angle? See what two Stilinski minds can come up with to solve it?"

Stiles offered him the brightest smile Noah had seen in months and it made his heart clench.

/break\

Stiles and his dad figured out that all deaths were somehow related to the class of 2006, because Stilinski men working together could actually solve anything. Hah. They brought that to the pack and came up with a plan together. The plan involved splitting up, each group of the pack having their own duties. Somehow, Stiles ended up with ash duty. Wolves couldn't touch those and Deaton, from whom they got the mountain ash, insisted it had to be Stiles and that he had to be the spark to ignite it, or something. Whatever. Stiles got to circle the building with a bag of ash, while the wolves got to fight. Peter, Boyd and Derek were fending off the hunters that had closed in, Erica, Jackson and Danny were inside tracking down the kanima in one group, while Allison, Scott and Isaac were also at the rave for the same purpose. Two teams, going at it from either side.

And all Stiles was doing was spread mountain ash. He glowered when he ran out of ash, because apparently he couldn't even do that right. He closed his eyes and concentrated and wished and hoped and felt so desperate when something happened. He had no more mountain ash, yet more kept falling from his hand as he wished it hard enough, until the circle closed. He'd done it. Somehow, he had like magically made more mountain ash.

He couldn't focus on the euphoria of maybe having performed magic, because he was supposed to go inside and join the pack in the interrogation. It was a bit of a high to have all the betas follow his lead and defer to him while he led the interrogation of the kanima they captured.

Things were going so well, until they weren't. The kanima broke lose, Stiles and the pack got split up in the chaos and before he knew it, Stiles was outside and pulled into Peter's arms.

"Darling?" Peter asked concerned, watching Erica and Isaac walk out of the building.

"He escaped. The sedative wasn't strong enough," Stiles sighed and leaned his head against Peter.

Erica and Isaac frowned as they looked at the mountain ash line that kept them from joining their Alpha Pair, while Jackson, Isaac, Danny and Allison finally came out too. Wait. Where was Scott?

"Where's Scotty?" Stiles asked when Danny and Allison stepped over the line to join them.

"We got separated," Allison frowned concerned. "I ran into Matt and he was being… Well, you know. His slightly pushy, kind of creepy self. But he distracted me enough to lose sigh of Scott."

"I was chasing after the kanima," Jackson shrugged. "And keeping an eye on Danny."

"I don't need a babysitter, Jacks," Danny rolled his eyes. "Seems more like McCall does."

Suddenly, the wolves' heads snapped over to the building, like they could hear something that Stiles couldn't. Peter gently pushed Stiles off, his eyes glowing red. Well, that wasn't good.

"I need you to break the mountain ash line, darling," Peter growled. "Scott needs help."

Stiles tensed and then his head snapped down to the mountain ash. He made a motion with his hand, like he was trying to chase it away, before he ever even knelt down. The mountain ash just… moved on its own, at his command, breaking the line. For a moment, Peter paused, to stare at him in surprise, before pressing one last kiss to Stiles' cheek.

"Derek, take the betas with you and keep Stiles save," Peter instructed.

"You're not going in there alone," Derek growled tensely. "You don't know what's going on."

Breathing through his nose, Peter nodded when he saw the look of agreement on Stiles' face. "Jackson, you're coming with me. Everyone else leaves with Derek now. We regroup at my place."

"Be careful," Stiles requested, biting his lip hard.

/break\

Scott was sprawled out on the couch, still wheezing from the wolfsbane vapor that Victoria Argent had used to try and kill him. Peter had grabbed the source so they could reverse engineer an antidote, on which Lydia, Danny and Stiles were currently working.

"But…" Allison looked so distressed. "But my mom… She… She wouldn't… She knows I love…"

Peter pressed his lips together as he watched her. He had grown attached to an Argent. But at least he seemed to have gotten attached to the black sheep of the family. She was sitting next to Scott on the couch, with her mate's head on her lap and tears shining in her eyes.

"She would. Because you love him," Peter's voice was softer than he had expected. "The Argents… have spent centuries deluding themselves with their bigotry. Dehumanizing werewolves. We're beasts, yes, but we're also human. Centuries of generational brainwashing at its finest."

"Peter, that's enough," Stiles barked out, voice sharp from the kitchen.

"She needs to hear this, darling," Peter shook his head. "She may love Scott, but her family will make her choose between the hunters and the wolves," Peter turned to look at Allison. "And I need you to know that it is a choice. Your choice. You have spent enough time not just with Scott but with the pack to know we're not mindless monsters worth putting down for simply existing. We're more than your family's bigotry wants us to be."

For a moment, Peter paused, and his voice softened more. "You're more than your family, Allison."

Tears fell down her cheeks as she turned to look at her boyfriend. Her mate, who had nearly died just because he loved her. Peter sighed and leaned back. The decision was in her hands now.

/break\

The pack was asleep sprawled out in the living room, blankets and pillows spread out on the floor to allow them to sleep, Allison sitting at the side of the couch with her head resting on the couch and her hand holding Scott's even in sleep. Stiles smiled faintly at them as he stretched and got up to find his mate. Derek had retreated to his own bedroom too, but Isaac had chosen to sleep in the big puppy pile with Allison, Lydia, Danny, Boyd, Erica and Jackson, guarding Scott. They'd called Lydia after what had happened, because Allison needed her best friend's support. Right now, Lydia was half leaning against Allison in her sleep, with Jackson wrapped around her and Danny's head on Jackson's lap. Boyd and Erica were curled together beside them on the ground.

"Mh. A real bed," Stiles whispered with a grin when he entered Peter's bedroom. "Room for two?"

Peter looked up from the book he was reading with a smile and lifted the blanket. "For you? Always, my love. I wanted to take you with me when I headed to bed, but I didn't know if you'd appreciate being taken from your pups. You were quite… on edge earlier."

"I mean, my best friend nearly died," Stiles huffed and crawled into Peter's bed. "It was a very… eventful day, to say the least. But after fixing up the antidote and comforting everyone, I… I could use some comfort myself, you know… This was… The magic, the kanima, the fight, Scott…"

Peter wrapped his arms around Stiles and pulled him into a tight hug, kissing the top of his head. "Do you… think we can talk about the magic part there, darling?"

"I don't know," Stiles sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I mean, that's what happened, right? I performed magic. I made mountain ash. And when I broke the line, I didn't even have to touch it. It blew away the moment I thought about moving it, like it obeyed my command. Guess Deaton really was onto something about his whole 'be the Spark' spiel."

"...Is that what he said?" Peter tensed beneath Stiles. "He called you a Spark?"

"Yeah? It was like a weird metaphor," Stiles paused. "It wasn't, was it?"

"I suspect not," Peter hummed, running a hand down Stiles' spine. "Sparks are… magic users. Rare and powerful magic users. It would explain why you could so easily manipulate mountain ash."

"Okay," Stiles nodded a little and buried his face in Peter's neck. "Gonna freak out about that tomorrow. Really bone tired right now. Can we just… sleep?"

"Yes, sweetheart," Peter smiled a little. "Let's just sleep. I'll pick out every book I have on Sparks for you tomorrow and hunt down even more. But for now, just rest. You're safe with me."

/break\

Lydia Martin's birthday party was the event of the year. That was how it was supposed to be. Yet with the messy break-up with Jackson, her erratic behavior after being mauled on the lacrosse field, her peers were treating her as a pariah. Nobody came. Everyone was supposed to be here, but instead, there was nobody here, aside from Stiles' pack.

Lydia had her arms around Jackson as they were dancing slowly, her eyes wandering. The music was loud and the atmosphere was happy and bright. The other couples in the pack, Boyd and Erica, Scott and Allison, were dancing too, all six of them beside the pool, while Danny, Isaac and Stiles were playing around in the water, laughing and talking.

For so long, Lydia had clung onto popularity, pretending to be an airhead, being the perfect queen bee, desperate to hold onto her social status, like it meant anything. But it didn't. Nobody cared. When she had been in the hospital, it had been Jackson, Stiles, Allison and Danny who regularly visited her. Now, at her birthday, it was the pack that was there for her, to celebrate her.

Last year, there had been over a hundred people. But had any of them even cared? Liked her? This year, there were eight people at her party and… it meant so much more.

She turned to face Jackson and kissed him softly. "Thank you. For the party. It's perfect."

/break\

The night had been perfect. Allison had danced with Scott, laughed with Stiles, played games with Isaac and Erica, celebrated Lydia. Her best friend's birthday was supposed to be the break they all deserved. And then her dad called her to the hospital.

After the rave, Allison had avoided her mom, had ducked out of every attempt from Victoria to talk to her. Angry for what she had done to Scott, but feeling helpless what to do. Now, she somewhat regretted it. It seemed her mother had tried to say her goodbyes to Allison, before killing herself. Maybe, if Allison hadn't dodged her, had instead talked to Victoria, she could have convinced her mom not to do it, convinced her that living as a wolf would be better than death.

Victoria had chosen death. She had chosen her bigoted beliefs over being with Allison. She could not bear the thought of being a wolf, not even if it meant being there for her daughter. Allison hadn't been important enough for Victoria to fight, or to even try.

Lydia and the others were still at the Martins' home, oblivious to what had happened. Happy and celebrating. Allison couldn't go back, didn't want to ruin Lydia's birthday. But she also didn't want to be alone and she could absolutely not go back home. Tears were running down her cheeks as she knocked on the door, heart racing nervously, fearing rejection.

"Allison," Peter raised his eyebrows. "Come inside. What's…"

"She's dead," Allison hiccuped, covering her mouth with one hand. "She's dead. She killed her self. Your bite… She was turning and she chose death. She chose death over me."

Peter sighed and pulled her into a hug. She blinked surprised. She hadn't even been sure if he'd let her in. She hadn't expected comfort, not from Peter. He pulled her in and smoothed down her hair.

"I am sorry, pup," Peter whispered. "My own feelings for your family aside, I know losing a parent is painful. But you came here. Tell me what you need."

"I don't know," Allison buried herself in her Alpha's chest. "I can't go home. I can't…"

"Okay," Peter sighed and lifted his head. "Derek, will you prepare the guest room for her?"

Allison's head snapped up and she stared at Peter in surprise. His eyes were softer than they had ever been when looking at her. That was the look he had reserved for Stiles and the wolves.

"A good Alpha takes care of his pack, pup," Peter spoke with a crooked smile.

Oh. Allison bit her lips. So she really was pack then. She watched how Derek headed to the fourth bedroom to get it ready for Allison, while Peter led her to the kitchen to make her a hot chocolate.

/break\

Stiles figured out the connection between all victims. It wasn't just the class of 2006, Isaac's dad had been an outlier. But Stiles figured out that Isaac's dad had been the swim coach and that all victims had been on the swim team. Sharing that revelation with the pack, Isaac could fill in the final blank. Matt, who was apparently not just a big creep about Allison but had also once upon a time been friends with Isaac, had kind of drowned for a little bit in the Lahey's pool because of the team, with Mister Lahey covering it all up.

Stiles took a part of the pack with him to the sheriff station to tell his dad about this. With the evidence and the witness statement from Isaac, they could link the murders to Matt. They could get a warrant for his arrest. Sure, they'd have to keep the killer lizard a secret, but hey. He didn't have to keep it a secret from his dad anymore and that was all that mattered.

Well. Until Matt and his killer lizard walked into the damn sheriff station and took it hostage. Villain monologues were actually so much more fun on TV than in real life, especially when one was paralyzed by kanima venom and using Derek Hale as a pillow while the villain of the month droned on about his sad little life and the trauma of having died. For a couple minutes, really he needed to stop being so dramatic. Stiles groaned to himself.

Genuinely the only interesting thing that Matt had to say was how he got the kanima. By stalking Allison. The damn creep had been taking pictures of her everywhere, the pack had noticed his interest in her but thought he was harmless. Apparently he was a full-on stalker. And during his stalking, he'd come across the hunter when he was turned and got a pet killer lizard.

People were injured. Hunters came, to make the situation even worse. People died. Noah managed to call Peter from Stiles' phone and when the rest of the pack arrived as reinforcement. It was a big mess and by the end of it, they found Matt dead in the diver, unsure how he had drowned in the shallow water but it was obviously foul play. The kanima was still on the loose, but Stiles found himself too exhausted to care about that. He just leaned against Peter's chest while surveying the mess that the sheriff station had turned into. He caught his dad's eyes across the room.

/break\

They finally caught a break. The big lacrosse game was on. After how Boyd had pitched in during the game where the damn abomination had taken out their team one by one, coach practically coerced Boyd into joining the team. Stiles, Boyd, Isaac, Scott, Danny and Jackson, all on the team together, all looking forward to playing. Allison, Lydia and Erica sat on the stands together, in the row in front of Derek, Peter and Noah. Derek looked the least like he wanted to be there, but with the whole pack present, the Sourwolf had no other option. Before the game, Stiles ran up to the stand to hug his dad with a bright smile. Even though Stiles was always the bench warmer, his dad had taken the time to watch the game. And he was even sitting all civilized next to Stiles' mate.

"One for good luck," Peter declared daringly and kissed Stiles' cheek.

Stiles blushed furiously, his eyes darting to his dad, who just gave an exasperated huff. It was only on the cheek! The kind of kisses old ladies gave. No reason to kill Peter. And Noah knew that, hence the exasperation. Stiles grinned though, feeling a boost from the chaste kiss.

"I can feel the luck working, Prettywolf," Stiles declared. "Tonight's gonna go well, I fee lit."

Peter laughed softly, his pretty blue eyes sparkling as he looked at Stiles. With that warm feeling in his chest, Stiles ran up to the field, just to be scolded by coach about it. Like the game couldn't start without him, he never played anyway so what did it matter?

Well, he ate his words not long after, when he actually got put in the game… and started scoring. He, Stiles Stilinski, was scoring actual goals. On the field. In a real game of lacrosse. The best part was he could hear his dad cheering so loudly in the stands, calling out 'That's my son'.

Finally, everything was looking up for him. He had his pack, Lydia had forgiven him, Stiles seemed to have magic (and was still reading up on all the books that Peter had given him; lot of studying to do before he would be able to do much with it), his dad knew the truth and believed him, he was making his dad proud and things between him and Peter were pretty amazing, actually. Peter had become his solace, he sought his wolf out for comfort and he felt like Peter did the same with him. They had each other's backs, they led their pack together and they did it well.

When Stiles scored the winning goal, it felt like the culmination of everything that had been going well lately. Like a reward for how hard Stiles had fought for this. The members of pack that were on the team cheered for him and laughed and hugged him on the field, while the others came running down from the stands to celebrate him too and it felt like everything was going great.

Which was, of course, when things had to go to shit. The kanima attacked, just in the middle of celebrations. People were knocked out by the venom and injured by the monster. They were separated. Stiles ended up with Erica and Boyd when he got tasered. The last thing he saw when he passed out was Boyd and Erica being tasered too and the sneering face of Gerard Argent.

"You have caused me too much trouble lately, Mister Stilinski. Time to change that."

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: On a Silver Platter

Stiles licked the blood off his split lip and considered if it was worth getting up again. Gerard had been working him over for longer than he was comfortable with, all things fragile and human considered. The man had a nasty sneer on his face, taking great joy in delivering the punishment. For betraying his own kind, for laying with a wolf.

"I had school bullies who hit harder than you," Stiles huffed. "In elementary school."

Another kick to the ribs. Stiles was fine with that. He wouldn't give Gerard the satisfaction of thinking he had the upper hand, of thinking he was intimidating Stiles. Besides, as long as Gerard was busy beating him up, he was staying away from Stiles' betas. Boyd and Erica were strung up on an electric rig to keep them from shifting and breaking free. He knew that as soon as Gerard grew bored with hurting Stiles directly, he'd move on to torture Boyd and Erica in front of him. Stiles was going to delay that as long as he could. Hopefully long enough for their rescue to arrive.

They weren't saved by the pack, but by a hunter getting down and fetching Gerard. The man left and Stiles got the chance to catch his breath, at least for a moment. When the door opened again, Stiles braced himself for a second round, slowly getting up to face the man head on. It was a different Argent who climbed down the stairs. Chris looked appalled as he took Stiles' appearance in and it made hope bloom in Stiles' chest. Maybe Chris wasn't too far gone.

"Help me get my pups down," Stiles' voice was a growl, his eyes hard.

Even as he held his aching ribs and hunched over to avoid more pain, he somehow managed to be a threatening presence. Chris looked at him startled, his eyes wandering to Boyd and Erica.

"Your pups," there was a question in Chris' voice that he didn't put words to.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles got to work himself, removing the duct-tape from Erica's motuh. "You're clever, Chris. Figure it out. Your father did too, after all. That's why he took me."

A pause, and a sharp intake of breath, steel-blue eyes widening. "You're the Alpha Mate."

"Ding, ding, ding," Stiles' voice was dripping with fake cheer and sarcasm. "Now, help me get my pups down, or get the fuck out, I don't really care."

He was mildly pleased when Chris actually came to help him. With some difficulty, Boyd and Erica were freed, both wrapping themselves around Stiles near immediately, nuzzling his neck from either side to scent him. Stiles returned the gesture, as well as he could at the moment. Everything ached and the two werewolves attached to him were solid walls that limited his movement.

"Get out," Chris ordered, voice low, avoiding either of their gaze.

As Erica and Boyd flanked him from either side to help him, Stiles threw one last look at Chris. "Thank you. I'll not forget this," after a pause, he added. "Your daughter's safe. Staying with us."

There was a tension in the air, both Chris and Stiles knowing how much these words meant. He was the Alpha Mate and he admitted a debt to the hunter. Stiles knew that was a big deal, but he also knew Chris deserved it. And Chris deserved to know that Allison has been safe since she ran away. Knowing his mate's tendency for burning everything to the ground on his path for revenge – a bit ironic, all things considered – Peter may very well try to kill Chris too, after this and after Allison had sought shelter with them. And Stiles just handed Chris a get out of being murdered free card.

Stiles returned his attention to his betas. "C'mon, pups, time to get home."

A sarcastic eye-roll from Erica that lost a lot of its effect due to her tear-smeared make-up and slowly healing bruises. "Sure thing, mom. I'm sure dad will be delighted."

That actually made Stiles wince a little. Yeah, Peter was not going to be happy about this. Gerard had taken him to punish Stiles, but also to send a warning to Peter. Ideally, Stiles would go home, nurse his wounds on his own and never tell anyone about this. Alas, there were two very worried and protective betas with him right now and there was just no way they weren't gonna go tattle to their Alpha. Might as well get it over with then.

The three made their way to the den as fast as their injuries allowed. Which wasn't very fast, considering the limping human in the middle was severely slowly down his betas. Stiles hated that he had not mastered his magic yet, otherwise he would have been able to protect himself and his betas. He vowed to study harder, to learn to control it before the next threat rolled into town.

"Honey, I'm home," Stiles announced with a healthy helping of sarcasm as they entered.

Silence. He was bleeding. The scent of his blood should have summoned any werewolf in the penthouse. Which meant there were no werewolves in the penthouse. Stiles frowned, concerned. So he got out his phone to check his messages and start cursing.

"Great. Okay. We gotta go. The pack's gearing up for a fight against the kanima and the hunters." "Yeah, we're not taking you with us like that, Stiles," Boyd glowered and crossed his arms. "You're severely injured. All you would be is an easy target and Peter would have our asses for putting you in danger like that. You're staying here with Erica, I'm going."

"...Fair point," Stiles heaved a tired sigh, looking down himself. "Fine. One of you can stay."

The betas exchanged an amused look like it was so funny that Stiles graciously allowed for himself to have a bodyguard slash babysitter. Erica kissed Boyd for good look before she plopped down onto the couch and gently pulled Stiles down with her, wrapping her arms around him.

"I'm staying with Batman, you go and bring back the rest of our pack. Be safe."

She took Boyd's hand to pull him down enough so she could kiss her mate one more time. Boyd looked at her with gentle eyes and nodded before taking off, with the keys to Stiles' Jeep. Peter needed to get onto buying at least one pack car, for the betas to share. They could carpool to school and drive into dangerous situations to save the day. That was about the last thought on his mind before he drifted off to sleep, with his head on Erica's lap and her fingers in his hair.

/break\

When Boyd finally arrived at the warehouse, but came alone and without Stiles or Erica, Peter stood tense. They'd been fighting against the kanima and Gerard's forces. He'd assumed Stiles, Erica and Boyd were being held up somewhere else with a fight of their own.

"Erica is at the den with Stiles," Boyd informed Peter as soon as he was within reach of his Alpha.

"Where were you?" Peter narrowed his eyes, noting the stench of pain on his beta, the blood and sweat. "What happened? Stiles would never sit out willingly unless…"

"Gerard snatched us after the game," Boyd looked away, searching the warehouse for the hunter in question. "He… He tortured Stiles. Strung Erica and me up on electric wiring and made us watch while he beat Stiles up. He… He's too injured, I convinced him to stay home."

At these words, Peter saw red. Quite literally. His vision was tinted by his Alpha eyes as he lunged for Gerard directly, Boyd right behind him. Allison, Derek and Jackson were dealing with the kanima, while Scott and Isaac were keeping the other hunters at bay.

"You took my betas," Peter growled around a mouth full of fangs. "And my mate? You hurt them? After everything your family has already done to me, to my packs? This ends right now."

He sank his claws into the man's throat and ripped it out while Boyd held Gerard in place, just as he had done with Kate. But it didn't feel like enough. The pain he could still smell on Boyd, the knowledge that Stiles was injured badly enough that he had stayed behind. With a snarl did Peter dig his claws into the man's chest, relishing in the sound of breaking ribs.

/break\

When Stiles woke up, it was to a... very unusual sight. Right in his line of sight, on the table in front of the couch, stood a plate with a bloody, actual, real human heart on it. Just the heart. Not like prepared as a meal or something (which would also be weird, but a different kind of weird, Stiles supposed). More like a trophy to be shown off, or an offering of sorts.

He grunted softly, pained, as he struggled to sit up. The noise seemed to alert every single wolf in the penthouse. Peter was the first to enter the room, an unusually concerned look on his face and his hair damp as though he'd just come from a shower. The next to walk in were Derek, Isaac and Jackson. Scott was fully asleep on the other couch, his head on Allison's lap, not noticing a thing after probably having stayed awake as long as humanly possible to sit vigil at Stiles' side, just to miss the moment Stiles actually woke up. Next to Allison were Lydia and Danny. Erica was still serving as Stiles' pillow and at one point, Boyd must have squeezed his way in next to her.

"Okay, good. Everyone is here, alive and upright," Stiles noted pleased.

"Yeah, Stilinski. You're the only one who came out of the show-down seriously injured. And you weren't even there," Jackson offered him a half-hearted glare.

Half-hearted because there was concern in his eyes too. Stiles just gave the beta a look.

"What can I say, I am just that popular, Gerard wanted some one-on-one time. Lucky me, am I right," Stiles replied with a deadpan, wincing as he sat up properly.

His eyes landed on the heart again, his brain slowly catching up and piecing things together. He got up gingerly, swatting away Isaac's hand as the pup tried to help him. The werewolves all stepped closer to him, probably trying to help by reducing the distance for Stiles, wherever he wanted to go. Fussy furballs, like Stiles couldn't walk through the room on his damn own.

A vicious and wicked smile spread over Peter's lips, showing off fangs, eyes flashing red. "I brought you a little something back, darling. I thought you might appreci-"

Peter didn't get to finish the sentence, because Stiles grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down into a harsh, demanding kiss. Not tender or soft or loving or however Stiles had ever pictured his first kiss to be. No, it was... primal. Nearly feral, as vicious as Peter's smile had been, and filled with as much wild passion. An untamed, hot need, a claim. Stiles was claiming Peter as his.

When they parted, Stiles was panting softly against Peter's lips, taking in the genuinely surprised look on the Alpha's face and grinning a little at it. "Told you you had to prove yourself to me before this would move on. Well, consider yourself proven."

Surprise made way for baffled amusement, even as the Alpha's arms wrapped around Stiles' waist. "Months, I spent trying to prove to you that I'm good, listening to all your little rules and limiting the violence. And when I rip a man's beating heart out of his chest, you finally cave."

"You ripped out the heart of the man who tortured me and our pups," Stiles growled, eyes dark and foreboding. "You know I never stood between you and vengeance. There's a reason I'm your mate."

The delight on Peter's face was so genuine, it took Stiles' breath away and made him want to kiss the Alpha again. So he did. A little gentler this time, slower and longer too. He was acutely aware of Peter's arms around his waist, his hands on Stiles' hips, the warmth radiating off Peter's chest.

"Oh, their PDA is going to be insufferable," Lydia pointed out with a heavy sigh.

"Serves you lot right," Stiles threw a half-hearted glare at his pack, only now remembering that they were all in the same room. "How long have I spent watching you and Jackson, and Scott and Allison? The only ones who are normal and bearable here are Boyd and Erica, thank you for being my favorite couple."

"You're welcome, Batman," Erica cackled softly.

Exhaustion caught up with Stiles and his knees buckled, breaking the playful atmosphere and making tension return to the entire pack. Damn over-protective wolves. Stiles' arms were around Peter's neck, partially so he could steady himself.

"Help me to your bedroom," ordered Stiles in defeat.

"My, my, kitten," Peter chuckled, eyes flashing red in a playful manner. "Feisty."

All Stiles did was roll his eyes unimpressed. "Oh yeah, sure, breathing hurts but I am totally down to fuck. I'm already limping anyway, so why not."

"I'm going to be sick," commented Jackson dryly.

"I need rest. And at least ten ibuprofen. I'm not an idiot, I know you furry fiends aren't going to let me go home to sleep, you are already hovering a ridiculous amount as is," Stiles motioned toward the betas. "But I am also super not going to sleep on the couch again. Give up your bed for your mate. Good night, everyone. Go to bed and rest too."

He got various replies ranging from a good night to mild protests, but he knew his pack was going to listen to him anyway. He trained these puppies well. Tonight was going to be another puppy pile in the penthouse kind of night, but Stiles really needed a bed. Stiles expected Peter to support him, but instead the Alpha fully picked him up, holding Stiles close against his chest and carrying him down the hall, toward the Alpha's bedroom. His heart thumped only a little when they entered. Once inside, Peter put Stiles gently down on the bed and then went to rummage through his closet. He held out sweatpants and a shirt for Stiles, making the Spark smile weakly. When Stiles accepted them, Peter turned around, ready to leave.

"Wait," Stiles called out, though then he paused, feeling awkward and vulnerable in his request. "I didn't actually mean give up your bed. Can you... stay?"

Peter stood frozen in the doorway until Stiles finally got the question out and when he did, the Alpha seemed to actually relax. He turned around with a small, nearly reassuring smile and then headed back to the closet to get changed himself. With Peter's back to him again, Stiles changed into the clothes provided to him by his mate. Though he wasn't fast enough. By the time Peter turned around again, Stiles was in nothing but the sweatpants. Within the blink of an eye, Stiles had a growling and angry werewolf all up in his space, eyes flashing red. Right. Whole body littered in bruises and injuries. The pack had only seen his split lip, bruised face and black eye.

"I should have killed him more slowly," Peter snarled.

He was half-wolved out, looking near feral in anger and it should not make Stiles' heart flutter that this was anger over Stiles. Not aimed at Stiles, not because of anything Stiles had done, but this was someone being angry on Stiles' behalf. Protective of Stiles. Worried about Stiles. Ready to kill for Stiles. He reached up a hand to rest against Peter's cheek, startling the Alpha.

"I'm okay," Stiles' voice was sincere and soft, trying to sooth his mate. "Bit bruised and worse for wear but nothing is broken or torn. I'm okay and I'm safe."

Slowly, the red faded from Peter's eyes and his features smoothed back to his handsome human face. Still, he grumbled displeased and buried his face in Stiles' neck, scenting his mate.

"You reek of him," Peter complained, dragging his nose along the span of Stiles' throat. "His stench is all over you. Boyd and Erica scented you some, but... there is too much of him."

Huffing, Stiles swatted lightly at Peter. "Okay, okay, okay, but can we do this in the horizontal? On this very comfortable bed? You can scent me all you want once I'm laying down, okay?"

A compromise Peter was willing to take, allowing his mate to spread out. Stiles couldn't fight the blush as Peter crawled on top of him. So he could continue scenting Stiles' neck while Stiles was laying on his back. This made total sense. It also made him think of entirely different things though. At least at first. The longer Peter scented him, the more Stiles relaxed, until he drifted off into a well-deserved sleep, feeling safe with Peter guarding him like that.

/break\

Peter didn't sleep. He was too tightly strung from having finally ended the threat to their pack. Gerard was dead, so were some of his hunters, the other ones clever enough to run away. The kanima was dead. For the first time since Peter had woken up from his coma, Beacon Hills felt… safe. He was the Alpha of a proper pack, he had his mate at his side and the threat taken care of.

When he heard Noah's voice in the living room, he very carefully disentangled himself from his mate to check in with Stiles' father. Derek and the other betas were already catching him up and the sheriff looked more exhausted with every detail added. The teens were sprawled out on blankets and pillows in the living room, multiple empty boxes of pizza everywhere. Peter was glad that Derek was taking care of the pack while Peter was taking care of his mate.

"Where's my son, Hale?" Noah asked, looking wary. "When he was gone after the game, I thought he'd left with you to celebrate his victory. Not that he got kidnapped."

Peter tensed and led the sheriff toward his bedroom. "If I had known he had been taken, I would have spent every second tracking him down. He's safe now."

Noah sat down at the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh, taking his son's hand and cupping his bruised cheek with worried eyes. Peter slipped into the bed again, laying behind his mate and hugging him tight. Not too tight, considering the injuries. A hand slipped under Stiles' shirt to get skin-contact so he could siphon his love's pain. Stiles sighed contently in his sleep and snuggled back against Peter's chest. Noah's gaze wandered to look at Peter.

"You truly love him," Noah whispered softly. "I was… more than skeptical at first, you know. Older man, werewolf, murderer. But the way you look at him…"

"I love him more than my own life," Peter pressed a kiss to the back of Stiles' neck. "He's my life. He anchored me when my coma left me scattered, he put me together again. He helped me build this pack, leads it together with me. Your son is the best thing that ever happened to me."

Noah huffed at that, giving Peter a near fond look. Okay, Peter was really getting his father-in-law on his side. All things seemed to be working out well for Peter. Stiles groaned softly in his sleep.

"Dad…?" Stiles blinked his eyes open. "He—ey, dad. Uhm. I am. So okay. Totally."

Both Noah and Peter snorted at that and then exchanged a look. Noah gave his son's hand another squeeze. Stiles' other hand reached down to take Peter's, still resting on Stiles' stomach.

"Okay, cuddling here is maybe a little awkward with dad here," Stiles frowned. "Let's move this to the living room and to the pack? I think I could use some pack comfort. And food."

"I'm sure the pups will make sure there is some pizza left for you," Peter called out.

He then gathered Stiles up in his arms, startling a cute noise from his boy before Stiles snuggled against Peter's chest. Noah followed them. The betas had adjusted their next of blankets and even added extra pillows to the empty spot to make it particularly comfortable for the injured boy. Peter laid down and laid his boy out next to himself. Before sitting down on the couch with Derek and Danny, Noah got a slice of pizza for himself.

"I talked to your dad, Ally," Stiles said while Peter handed him some pizza. "I can feed myself, Worrywolf. Stop that, I don't need to be hand fed, that's embarrassing."

"I just want to take care of you, darling," Peter buried his face in Stiles' neck.

"What… What about him?" Allison looked worried.

She reached out for Scott and Lydia on either side of her, drawing strength and support from her mate and her best friend. Bracing herself for what Stiles was going to say next. So did Peter. Depending on his mate's next words, Peter had another Argent to kill and, more surprisingly, a different Argent to adopt. He wasn't going to let Allison fall into her family's bigotry.

"He got us out of there," Stiles tilted his head back against Peter's shoulder. "He's worried about you too. Maybe you should call him. But you're staying here for at least until this blows over."

Peter couldn't help but smile faintly at the ease with which Stiles promised their beta safety in Peter's den. Leaning forward, Peter kissed Stiles' cheek before offering his mate the pizza again. This time, Stiles opened his mouth and allowed Peter to feed his mate. Tension melted away from them and the pack started talking and bickering and in that moment, Peter felt at home.

~*~ The End ~*~