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They were in the locker room after Friday night practice. Scott had been -- unfortunately -- amazing, and Coach couldn't stop staring. The only good thing is that Coach hadn't given one of his chaotic speeches.
"Hey!" Stiles said to Scott. "Come over after practice tomorrow? We haven't played video games in a while."
Scott sighed. He had been doing that a lot when he wasn't showing off on the lacrosse field.
"I have to work in the afternoon," Scott admitted. "Dr. Deaton needs me to come in for a few hours. And I need the money. I can't work as much because of lacrosse."
"No big deal," Stiles shrugged. "Dad has to work the afternoon shift tomorrow, so I'll be home alone and need an excuse not to do homework. Come after you're done working. I'll make dinner, and we can still play video games."
Scott nodded. "That works, I guess." Another sigh. "I miss Allison so much."
"Dude! You only knew her for less than a week!" Stiles countered. "You'll find someone else."
"But... what if she was the one for me?" Scott whined.
"Then you'll meet up with her again in the future," Stiles replied, having to go for practical. He just needed Scott to come to the house tomorrow. He was almost ready to just tie Scott up and carry him home but that wasn't an option. At least right now. He'd keep that option for later.
Scott looked a little shifty for a moment. "Have you read that book for English?"
Ah! Stiles shrugged. "Yeah, read it over the summer." It had been part of the summer reading list that Stiles had finished in July.
"Maybe you can, umm, tell me something about it?" Scott asked. He added hastily, "Just to clarify some things."
"Sure," Stiles replied, knowing Scott hadn't read anything from the list. He'd be 'clarifying' stories for Scott for most of the fall semester.
"Thanks," Scott said. "See you tomorrow!"
Stiles went home to find that Derek and Peter had organized dinner for him. There was a moment that he realized that he spent so much time taking care of others that he had forgotten how good it felt to be taken care of.
"Thanks," he said softly as he ate goulash and rolls. "It's good."
"We all need comfort food," Derek admitted. Then grinned. "It's one of the few things I can make reliably."
"There is that," Stiles replied with a smile. "And it really is good."
"I took some to your dad earlier," Peter admitted. "He was happy for a warm meal."
"Scott will come over tomorrow, probably close to dinner time," Stiles said. "We have practice in the morning, then he needs to go to Deaton's to work in the afternoon."
Both Hales froze.
"Alan Deaton?" Peter asked lowly. Almost a growl.
"The veterinarian?" Stiles replied, alert. "Yeah. Why?"
"He was Talia's Emissary," Peter said. "It was his job to protect us, and he failed."
Derek took a breath. Then another. "I... saw him. That night. He... he wasn't right at the fire but... he was watching." Another breath. "I had forgotten he was there."
Stiles sat back. "What should we do? Scott has worked for him for a few years..." He blinked. "Since just after my mom died. It was just playing with the puppies at first, then Deaton trained him on taking care of the animals over time." Stiles shook his head. "He doesn't look old enough to have been Talia's Emissary."
"He's a Druid," Peter explained. "They're middle-of-the-road magic users and focus on balance." Peter said that last word as if it was a curse word. "But magic users generally age slower than humans."
"Ah!" Stiles nodded. "But Druids get to decide what needs to be balanced."
"Exactly!" Peter nodded.
"What should we do?" Derek asked.
Stiles searched through the information in his head. Oh!
"The Nemeton."
Peter looked at Stiles, eyes narrowing in thought. "That should work," Peter nodded.
"What?" Derek looked between them.
"We... lure Deaton to the Nemeton and, well, ask for Justice," Stiles said.
"It's that simple?" Derek frowned.
"Well, I'm not sure it's simple but it's the... cleanest," Stiles shrugged.
"How do we lure him out there?" Derek asked.
"I offer to meet him in the Preserve," Peter suggested. "The Nemeton has invited us back, even if I doubt if they meant in a few days." A smile that was all teeth. "And I suspect Deaton will be interested in learning I am out of the hospital. And that you are the Alpha."
"Dad needs to be in on this," Stiles said firmly.
"We can at least start planning," Peter countered.
Derek sighed but nodded.
Stiles called his dad and gave him a high-level summary of what had just happened.
"I'll be home soon," John promised readily.
Stiles found himself drawn into a discussion on what kind of a message to send to Deaton, to get him to show up in the woods.
His dad came in and listened for a bit. He shook his head.
"Why don't you just go to the vet clinic and go from there?" John asked.
Peter and Stiles looked at each other. Stiles had to laugh.
"Here we are being sneaky and mysterious and, well, yeah, we could just confront him in the clinic," Stiles said.
"He'll have defensive measures," Peter countered. "He's had plenty of time to build the clinic into a fortress."
"Would he think he needs that?" Stiles replied. "He's been doing whatever he's been doing for so long that, well, maybe he's gotten sloppy?"
"Not sloppy," Peter replied. "But he would have been on alert for a long time and that does get old. He won't know what to do with a returned Hale Pack."
"We use that to get him to at least talk to us," Stiles nodded. "He'll want to control the Pack, so he has to at least talk to us." He grinned. "And he won't be expected Derek to be the Alpha."
"Offer to have him be the Emissary to the Hale Pack, at the Nemeton," Derek said.
They stared.
"It's brilliant!" Stiles cackled. "It's simple and straightforward. It should work."
"Let me make the phone call," Derek offered. He looked at Stiles. "You can go ahead of us and already be at the Nemeton."
"We will go ahead of you," John said.
"Yeah," Stiles agreed. "You can say that Peter is at the Nemeton and he wants to meet there. It implies that Peter is the Alpha, which is what he would expect."
Derek nodded.
They scrambled to get ready for the hike to the Nemeton. Stiles hoped they would get the easy walk they had the other night. It would make getting there easier.
At the last minute, he grabbed the mountain ash from the other night. Heaven only knew what he'd need it for but, well, it wasn't hard to stick in a pocket.
"Okay, we're ready," Peter said. "Go ahead, Derek."
Derek made the call.
"Dr. Deaton?" Derek said in a polite voice. "My name is Derek Hale..." Nodding. "Yes. I am in Beacon Hills. I... I got a message from my Uncle Peter that he needs the Hale Pack Emissary to meet at the Nemeton. Tonight at moonrise." More nodding. "Yes, I know that's in an hour but I just got the message. I wasn't sure if you could help us or not? You can? That... that is excellent." More nodding. "Thank you for your help!"
Derek looked up. "He'll be there."
Stiles led the walk to the Nemeton, knowing it would make it simple for him to get there. His dad followed him, the Hales immediately behind.
His dad looked around. "I'm going to be over there," he pointed. "Out of sight. I'm the backup plan."
"Good idea," Stiles agreed. "We'll stay on this side of the tree, to be out of your way."
Stiles watched as his dad melted into the brush. If he didn't know his dad was there, he'd never spot him.
"Now we wait," Stiles grinned. He climbed up and sat cross-legged on the stump.
Stiles had to give Deaton credit. He stepped out of the woods and into the clearing without making a noise. He wondered if the Hales had heard Deaton coming. He'd have to ask.
"Hey, Doc!" Stiles waved. "How's it going?"
"Mr. Stilinski. I was not aware that you were... aware of the Hale Pack," Deaton said.
"Meh," Stiles shrugged. "You know me. Always sticking my nose in other people's business."
Deaton huffed. "I am surprised Mr. McCall isn't here. I am assuming he's part of your Pack?"
"More or less," Peter said. "Although it was clever of you to make him available for the bite when I was... not myself."
"I am surprised to find that you are up and aware," Deaton admitted.
Peter grinned, all teeth. "I got better."
Deaton looks at Derek. "You said something about a Hale Pack Emissary? What can I do for you?"
"Stiles is now the Emissary for the returned Hale Pack," Derek said, crossing his arms.
Stiles started in surprise. He is? What? When did that happen? He makes himself focus on Derek.
"But I think we have some... unfinished business with you," Derek went on.
Peter straightened. "You were Talia's Emissary, were you not? You failed in your task of protecting the Pack. The fire that killed most of the Hale Pack should never have happened!"
Deaton shrugged. "Talia was becoming too powerful. She needed to learn humility. That others died is a tragedy."
"There were humans and children in that house!" Peter growled. "Even if you applied your precious balance to Talia, sending Hunters to do your dirty work is unconscionable!"
"And why did you lure Laura back to Beacon Hills?" Derek asked. "What balance was needed that she had to come back and die?"
"That was an unfortunate debt I owed to others," Deaton shrugged.
Stiles perked up. Who would Deaton owe something to? Damn. This was not good.
"Stiles, would you throw some mountain ash as the good doctor?" Peter asked. "We need to talk, and I want to make sure he can't get away."
Stiles was glad for the information that came into his head as Peter asked. He took out the plastic glove, took a pinch of the ash and threw it at Deaton, all the while thinking of what he wanted to do.
Deaton had started to move at Peter's request to Stiles but Stiles had been quick enough to prevent Deaton from moving too far. Stiles resisted the fist pump he wanted to give.
Peter stalked over to Deaton. "Who do you owe a debt to?" he growled.
Deaton remained silent.
Stiles put a hand on the Nemeton. Any chance you can help? The sense of delight at being asked was startling.
Stiles watched as roots started to grow at Deaton's feet. Deaton tried to evade the roots but the ash circle Stiles had created didn't let him move enough. It wasn't long before the roots were wrapped about his legs and started climbing Deaton's torso. Deaton used his hands to try to break free from the roots but they grew faster than he could break them.
"It was the Argents!" Deaton shouted. "Gerard promised he would leave me alone, to control the Nemeton if I let the Hales die. Damned Nemeton wouldn't cooperate. But Kate came by several times to give me money and tell me they were watching. She gave me money to leave a message for Laura."
"What about Christopher Argent?"
Stiles turned to see his dad, who had stepped out of the cover.
"Gerard was furious that his son wanted to leave Hunting," Deaton admitted, still battling the roots, which has slowed as he talked.. "His wife was supposed to keep him in line but Christopher was breaking away, becoming independent."
John nodded.
"Where is Gerard?" Peter asked. He glanced at Derek, who had stood still. "And Kate?"
"They come and go," Deaton admitted. "I only have a phone number, to leave a message. They contact me when they're ready. I don't know where they are."
Stiles stepped forward. "What about Scott?"
Deaton sneered. "That boy is an idiot. But now that he's a 'wolf, I was going to do a ritual to make him an Alpha. He would be under my control, and with that, I could run Beacon Hills."
"Darach!" Peter spat.
"No!" Deaton protested.
"Do we need anything else?" Stiles asked. No one spoke. He put his hand on the Nemeton. We ask for Justice for those that Deaton has wronged.
A hum of approval came back. Before anyone could say anything, the roots covered Deaton and took him into the earth. The grass where he had been standing rustled and there was no evidence he had ever been there.
"Well, that happened," Stiles said. Our thanks for your assistance.
A hum of happiness. Of satisfaction.
Stiles came off the stump. "Derek? You okay?" Stiles asked softly.
Derek shook himself. "I... I don't know?"
Stiles nodded. "I get it. You're allowed to be confused, you know."
"Come on," John said. "I need something to eat. Is there any of that goulash left?"
Peter gave a small snort. "There is."
"Then let's go home," John said.