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Stanny || Teen Wolf || WolfCop || The A Team || WolfCop || Teen Wolf || Stanny

Title: The A Team – The Fathers of Stiles Stilinski 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, No Hale Fire AU, Pack Feels, hurt/comfort, fluff, m/f

Main Pairing: Noah/Peter & Danny/Stiles

Side Pairings: Damon/Talia, Aaron/Fiona, Jackson/Lydia

Teen Wolf Characters: Peter Hale, Noah Stilinski, Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Danny Mahealani, Malia Tate, Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Laura Hale, Talia Hale, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin

Original Characters: Dalia Hale, Damon Hale, Aaron Hale, Fiona Hale, Sloan Hale, Jason Hale

Summary: When the Hale House burns, Cora gets out. She runs to get help and Sheriff Stilinski is right there to save the Hales – at a high cost. The sheriff ends up in a coma for six years… and the Hales take Stiles in, out of gratitude. Peter ends up adopting Stiles, before Noah wakes.

The A Team

The Fathers of Stiles Stilinski Hale

Peter had had a crush on Noah Stilinski ever since the then deputy had to arrest Peter and Claudia for skinny-dipping. Noah should have arrested them for breaking and entering into the Martin Lake House, stealing a bottle of the expensive wine and being underage drunk, but the two shameless, naked and flirtatious teens had flustered and embarrassed the deputy so much, Noah had just been glad to card them off and deposit them with their families. Which had paid off even more for Peter, because in the end Lloyd Martin got blamed for the missing wine by his parents and pissing off the annoying captain of the swim team had been the whole goal of that afternoon, so a full success.

At first, Peter just thought the older man was pretty to look at and delightful to fluster. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Especially after Claudia confided in Peter about her feelings for Noah. Best friends always came before romantic interests. So Peter stayed quiet about it and smiled.

He smiled when Claudia told him about her first date with Noah, during their first semester at university.

He smiled when Claudia told him about moving in with Noah after she finished her Bachelor’s degree.

He smiled when Claudia showed off her engagement ring not long after.

He smiled as he stood beside the happy couple during their wedding.

And he smiled when Claudia told him that she was expecting a baby.

On the inside, each of those chipped away at something. Because due to Claudia, he also spent more time with Noah and what had been just a crush turned into more. More that would never amount to anything, because Noah only had eyes for Claudia – and Peter would never want to try and get between them, he wanted his best friend to be happy.

The baby changed everything though. He’d smiled his way through their relationship for years now, but a baby? Starting a family? Peter had grabbed his other best friend Fiona and gotten blackout drunk on wolfsbane laced drinks in a bar run by a werewolf. When he woke up the next morning, it was next to a lethal and beautiful were coyote named Corinne.

Seven months later, Claudia introduced Peter to Mieczysław Stilinski, named after Claudia’s father. Mietek for short, so people who weren’t fluent in Polish could pronounce the kid’s name.

And another two months later, Corinne returned into Peter’s life, dumping a baby in his lap. Malia was the best thing that had ever happened to Peter. She was the light of his life, his blunt, beautiful sunshine of a daughter. He may not have gotten the man he loved, but he had gotten a daughter he never expected but loved more than life itself.

When he pulled back from the Stilinskis, nobody seemed to notice. After all, he wasn’t just a successful lawyer and the Left Hand of the Hale Pack, he was now a freshly baked single father. And Noah and Claudia were new parents too, were as occupied by their own baby. It was a gradual shift, maybe intentional on Peter’s end but natural progression all the same.

And then Claudia got sick. She started forgetting things, and herself. It was too late for the bite, the damage had already been done to her brain. All the bite would do was trap her in this state for many years to come and that would have been cruel and selfish, just to cling onto her. Letting her go was the hardest thing Peter had ever done. Losing her was cruel. Seeing Mietek, who by then called himself Stiles (because children could be cruel and mocked his name), so small and skinny and lost, cling onto Noah and cry at the funeral broke Peter’s heart.

Peter would have liked to step up. To help. But Peter also had his pack duties and Malia and he wasn’t coping too well with his own grief. How could he be a shoulder to lean on when he crumbled and screamed and cried every day himself? But Peter wanted to help, be there for them. Now, he would never get the chance to and it was among a long list of things he regretted.

Around Peter, the house stood on fire. He was on the floor, bent over Malia, trying to shield his daughter from the flames. His family around him were all doing the same. They were all weakened from the smoke inhalation, the wolves even more so than the humans because the accelerant used to set their home on fire had been laced with wolfsbane and mistletoe. Peter himself was dizzy from the pain.

Laura and Derek hadn’t been home. They would survive. So would Cora. Before the flames had gotten too bad, Peter and Talia had managed to help her out of the tiny basement window. Now, it stood open behind a wall of fire, mocking them. At least the children would be able to escape that way, if only they could make it there.

“Dad, I’m scared,” Malia whispered, her tiny hands clinging onto his shirt.

“I know, sweetheart,” Peter hugged her closer, praying to any deity that may listen. “I know.”

And then, all of a sudden, the locked door burst open from the outside and in the created opening stood Noah Stilinski like some knight in shining armor, a beacon of hope shining onto Peter in a dizzying way.

“W… What…?” Peter blinked, sure this was a hallucination, the last thing he got to see before he died.

“Cora came running to the station, asking for help,” Noah said quickly, crouching down next to him and helping him up. “C’mon, the fire truck is ten minutes out, help me get everyone out, Peter.”

Peter nodded, the room around them spinning as he forced himself onto his legs. He wanted to save them all, but he couldn’t. He needed to do this one at a time and right now, he had his daughter in his arms. Noah seemed to agree, because he pushed Peter toward the door insistently while taking both Sloan and Jason from Peter’s brother.

Once outside, Peter collapsed onto the ground, the toxic fumes rendering him near incapacitated. Noah shot him one look and then deposited the kids with Peter.

“Watch them. I’ll be right back,” Noah ordered.

Peter wanted to argue. He was the Left Hand. Protecting his family was his duty. But he was too weak. And he knew everyone else was even weaker, they hadn’t been able to stand, to follow.

“Get my mother, Aaron and Damon out first,” Peter pleaded.

The fumes may be toxic, but the wolves would heal from them. The humans won’t. Noah frowned at that but he nodded before rushing back inside. Peter cradled Jason, his youngest nibling who was still only a toddler, close to his chest while Malia and Sloan huddled up next to him, coughing violently.

One by one, his family joined him. His mother first, followed by his brother Aaron, then Talia’s husband Damon, next Aaron’s wife Fiona. The fire trucks arrived. Noah and Talia didn’t come out.

“Where’s my wife?” Damon asked between coughing fits. “Where’s Tali?”

Where was Noah? Peter struggled to stand, trying to go inside. Dalia’s fingers curled around his wrist to pull him back down. The fact that he went so easily only showed just how weak he was.

“What is the point of him saving you if you go back inside?” Dalia chided sternly. “The fire fighters will get them both.”

Talia was sturdy. She was the Alpha. Though she had worn herself out trying to syphon the pain of their family, letting her Alpha spark bleed out to heal their human family members, to keep them alive as long as possible. Long enough for help to arrive. Peter was confident she would be alright. She was his big sister, she was always alright.

But Noah? Human Noah, who had now run into a burning building six times? Peter’s heart clenched and he couldn’t seem to breathe until the fire fighters carried a heavily injured and unconscious Noah out.

/break\

Stiles knew his dad was a hero. He didn’t need people to tell him that, nobody knew that better than him. He’d never wished for his dad to be anything else. To him, the sheriff star had always been a symbol of strength, bravery and hope. It was like Superman’s S, to him. For the first time in his life, Stiles wished his dad was literally anything else but the sheriff.

He felt unfathomably small and fragile as he sat curled together next to his dad’s hospital bed, not even daring to blink because what if something happened and his dad would just be gone while he blinked? Just like his mom had been. The steady beeping of the machines seemed to transport him back to a different time, a different hospital room, a different parent drifting away from him.

“You can’t die,” Stiles whispered, his voice breaking as he looked at his unconscious father. “Mom already left. You promised you wouldn’t leave. You promised.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and clung onto his dad’s hand tightly as the tears started rolling down his cheeks. His dad had kind of left him before, after mom’s dad. He’d been drinking and working so much that Stiles had ended up taking care of himself for over a year. Only recently had Noah sobered up, gotten his act together. He’d hugged Stiles so tightly when he promised he wouldn’t leave, that it was the two of them against the world now. His dad could not turn out to be a liar, not about this. Stiles had only just gotten him back. What was he supposed to do if his dad died, just like his mom? There… There was nobody else. He was all alone. Was he going into the system, be adopted? No, nobody was going to adopt a hyperactive ten year old. He wasn’t a cute little kid anymore. He’d probably be handed around from foster family to foster family, every time they got annoyed with him. Who would even want him? Would he get to stay in Beacon Hills? What if he’d be forced to move away? This was all he had ever known. He couldn’t-

“-Easy, Mietek. Can you focus on my voice?”

It was the name that really pulled him out of his panic with a start. The man must have talked before that too, but that name, it caught him off-guard. He hadn’t heard it in years. He’d started going by Stiles when he started going to school because the other kids all made fun of his name even though Mietek was already the short and easy version. It was the first time someone had made him feel embarrassed for his heritage. So he started going by Stiles. His mom had sat him down and told him that nobody had a right to invalidate him and who he was. She also reminded him of how proud he should be of his heritage, all his parents were from Poland, his mom had taught him the language, the recipes from her parents’ home. After her death, his relationship to his heritage became kind of complicated because on the one hand, it was a reminder of her and made him feel connected to her, but on the other hand… it was a reminder of her and reminded him of her loss.

“Deep breaths, skarbie, in. Can you hold it for me? Hold, keep holding. And out. Slowly. Good, you’re doing wonderful, Mietek. Can you do it again?” [Polish translation: treasure]

Stiles followed the instructions in a daze, feeling fuzzy and warm when the man slipped a little Polish in. His accent was bad – it reminded Stiles of his dad’s, who had never been fluent but Claudia had taught him late on. That was weirdly comforting. Stiles calmed down after a couple breaths and found himself leaning against the man’s chest.

“Are you feeling better?”

Stiles nodded stiffly and looked up, looked at the man. He had blue eyes that stared at Stiles in concern. He seemed familiar. Stiles had seen him before at his mom’s store.

“You’re a friend of mom’s,” Stiles whispered.

The man tensed in surprise at that, before he smiled and nodded. “Yes. I’m Peter. I…”

He trailed off and the smile slipped from his lips as he turned to look at Noah. “I’m sorry about your father. What happened… He saved me, and my family.”

That was when Stiles noticed the little girl behind the man. She had long brown hair and was wearing a hospital gown, the same as the man was too. Stiles thought he’d seen her before, at school. She was one of the three Hale girls that always stuck together, but Stiles wasn’t sure which one she was. Not the redhead, but there were two brunettes.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked, looking at both of them.

They’d told him that his dad was a hero, had saved a family. He hadn’t really listened, had tuned out Tara and the doctors, his whole focus on his dad, fear and rage and confusion all muddled together. That had been hours ago now though and maybe he was a tiny little bit more settled.

“Yes,” Peter cleared his throat. “Everyone made it out alive. We’ll have to stray at the hospital for varying lengths, but… nobody was badly hurt.”

“Nobody aside from my dad,” Stiles corrected, turning away from the Hales to look at his dad.

Peter stepped up to him and rested a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, squeezing gently. “And I’m very sorry for that, Mietek. I really am.”

“Stiles,” Stiles corrected him forcefully, glaring up at the man. “My name is Stiles.”

Peter’s lips twisted into a sad smile. “Right. I apologize. Claudia always talked about you as Mietek or Mischief. This Stiles nickname isn’t one I’ve heard too often.”

“Because I haven’t seen you since mom died,” Stiles stared narrow-eyed at Peter. “I remember seeing you at mom’s flower shop a lot. But like everybody else, I haven’t seen you since her funeral. Everyone cared so much about her, but when she was gone, nobody cared about me.”

Peter’s breath hitched a little at that and he crouched down next to Stiles with a sorrowful look on his face. “I’m very sorry that I haven’t been a presence in your life. You’re right, that was wrong of me. I cared so much about your mom and she would be so disappointed in me for not being there for you and for your father. I… I wasn’t dealing well with her death, I lost my best friend and I didn’t know how to deal with that. You lost your mom and you shouldn’t have had to deal with that all alone with your dad. I would… I would like to try and make up for it, if you’d allow.”

“How?” Stiles’ face scrunched up doubtfully. “Can you make dad wake up?”

Peter hesitated and before he could speak up, a pretty lady was wheeled in by the girl that had come in with Peter and must have slipped out again while Stiles and Peter talked. She went up to Peter’s side and nuzzled into him a little, with the lady in the wheelchair beside them.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” she said with a sad smile. “But our family is very wealthy and very well connected. We’ll make sure that your father has the best care he possibly can. And we’ll make sure you have that too. I know you don’t have family aside from your father, I talked to him about you before, you know. We often worked together. I’m Talia, the mayor.”

Stiles gave a hum and a nod. She did seem kinda vaguely familiar like he had seen her on the fancy functions dad had dragged him and mom along a lot. She was hurt, wrapped in bandages, like Peter and the girl too. But she was still smiling at Stiles.

“I don’t even know you people,” Stiles argued with a frown, turning to his dad.

“Your father…” Talia paused, looking reluctant. “I talked to the doctors and they don’t know when he will wake up. I’d like for you to stay with us, until your father is awake again.”

“Where?” Stiles huffed, frown deepening. “Your house burned down.”

“Blunt brat,” Peter snorted softly. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

/break\

The Hales were rich. It had always just been a given, but never before had it felt more like a blessing than after the fire. The werewolves quickly released themselves against doctoral advise, because they were already healing. They booked hotel rooms, bought new clothes and some things of comfort for the kids, they hired an architect and a crew to get the Hale House rebuilt as fast as possible. While the majority of the family went to the hotel, Peter and Malia moved into the Stilinski house, so Stiles wouldn’t have to be relocated and wouldn’t be alone either.

“Here’s your lunch,” Peter handed Stiles a box. “I’m going to pick you up after school so we can visit your dad at the hospital, okay?”

Due to the circumstances, Stiles had been off school for a week. Today was the first day he was going back to school. Peter and Malia had settled into the Stilinski house, with Malia sleeping in the guest room and Peter sleeping on the couch. As a wolf, he didn’t feel comfortable entering Noah’s bedroom to sleep in his bed, and he knew Stiles wouldn’t want that either. The boy was extremely tense and confrontational. Angry. And it was understandable too.

“Okay,” Stiles nodded and clutched his lunch.

Peter brushed his hair back and ran his hand down Stiles’ neck to scent-mark the boy. Those big, sad Bambi eyes really got to Peter. They reminded him of Claudia, after her mother had died.

“I don’t want to go to school,” Malia complained as she grabbed her own lunch box.

She was in a particularly growly and grumpy mood too and Peter let it slip, because he got it. She lost everything she owned in that fire, including her home. Now she was living in someone else’s den, while the rest of their pack was in a hotel. It was frustrating, irritating and also confusing.

“I want you two to watch out for each other, okay?” Peter requested.

Both kids grumbled and shot each other a look. This was such a work in progress. Peter was glad that his sister had supported his idea of taking care of Stiles until Noah would be awake again. Taking care of two now traumatized kids was a Herculean task though. He paused for a moment before they left the house, his gaze landing on a framed photo of Noah, Claudia and Stiles, all three smiling into the camera. His heart clenched, because his best friend was dead and the man he loved was in a coma and their son was shut off, angry and Peter was afraid to fail him.

/break\

Malia was weird. The first time Stiles told her that, she had growled at him – which, kinda proved his point. And then he explained to her that weird wasn’t bad. Weird was just weird. Stiles was weird too, and that was okay. That was what his mom used to say. If other people didn’t like him then that was their problem and not his, he didn’t need to change for anyone. Malia had stared intensely at him for a long moment after he explained, and then she had nodded. And ever since then, the two had been inseparable. With Malia came her two cousins, Cora and Sloan, and suddenly Stiles had friends to sit with at school and hang out with.

The rest of the Hale family had rented a house in the same street as Stiles’. Because even all their money couldn’t magically make a mansion appear out of thin air. Tearing down the burned out remains of their home and building a whole new one took time and the Hales didn’t want to live in a hotel the entire time. Now they were kind of Stiles’ neighbors and hung out in his house all the time, or he went over to theirs. He got that the Hales were a close-knit bunch, after all, all of them used to live together – and Stiles had never seen something like that. Those were like three families and grandma all under one roof. Stiles thought that must have been nice. It had only been him and his dad for two years now, and even before that, it had only been the three of them, with mom.

The Hales very quickly accepted him in their mid. To Dalia, he was already just another grandkid. He got along with Cora, Sloan and Malia. Sloan’s little brother Jason, who was only four, followed Stiles like a lost puppy and copied everything Stiles did, which was kind of cool because Stiles had never been a sibling before and this felt kinda like being a big brother. Cora’s older brother Derek was kinda broody and angsty and not the best company and her older sister Laura was, like, an adult already so she wasn’t much fun to be around either. Aunt Talia was kind of scary even when she was nice, but her husband Damon was awesome – he was a really good cook and he’d encouraged Stiles to share some of his mom’s recipes with him. Aunt Fiona was super cool and uncle Aaron was like a big-shot doctor at the hospital and he had contacts that meant Stiles’ dad did get the best care.

Stiles’ dad was still not awake. Six months. For six months, Peter and Malia had lived with Stiles now. Six months of hospital visits – all over again. Six months of waiting and his dad not waking up. With every week that passed, the nurses and doctors looked at him with more pity whenever he visited his dad. The Hales did too. They were quiet, really quiet, when it came to Stiles’ dad. Like they didn’t want to burst his bubble by telling him that his dad was most likely never going to wake up again. Stiles knew that, he wasn’t dumb. He had read everything he could about comas, every study he could get his hands on. He knew that the longer his dad was in a coma, the less likely it was that he would ever wake again. But he also knew that sometimes, people woke up after years. So Stiles, who had already lost his mom, was not going to give up on his dad.

Instead of thinking about all of that though, Stiles was trying to distract himself by focusing on other things. Namely, whatever the Hales were hiding. And Stiles knew they were hiding something. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. So when three days ago, Peter had gone to a closed door meeting with his sister and his mom, Stiles knew something was up. And when Peter told him and Malia they would be staying with the other Hales for the weekend, Stiles knew the time had come. This was it. His opportunity to find out what they were hiding.

“Where are you going?” Malia hissed as she grabbed him by the wrist.

Stiles stared at her wide-eyed. He’d thought she was already asleep when he climbed out of the window. What was he supposed to do now? Ditching Malia was totally impossible. The girl was about as stubborn as Stiles. Frowning, Stiles sat down on the window-sill.

“Your dad left for something,” Stiles whispered back. “And I wanna know what he’s doing.”

That had Malia hesitate. She let go of Stiles, her brows furrowing thoughtfully. Hah. So she didn’t know where her dad was sneaking off to either. And she clearly also wanted to know.

“Okay,” Malia nodded and climbed up to join him. “We’re going together.”

Stiles grinned broadly at that and nodded. Going into the woods with backup felt way safer and better than doing it all alone, even if he knew Peter would be close-ish by. The two went out the window and down the wall where the roses were growing, mindful of the thorns. Once down, they headed straight into the preserve. Stiles didn’t know how, but somehow Malia seemed to know exactly where they were going. Sometimes she’d pause, before nodding, grabbing his hand and pulling him along further. They came to a sudden halt in front of a clearing, both crouching down behind a bush and watching Peter and a pretty brunette woman in front of a tree stump. They were talking, but the kids were too far away for Stiles to understand anything. And then Peter’s eyes glowed, like there were lightbulbs doing on behind them, and he raised his hand and there seemed to be actual claws on them before he slashed the woman across the throat. Blood splattered everywhere, including all over Peter’s clothes. Peter’s mouth was open and his teeth were longer as he snarled. Less human and more like some kind of beast. Stiles couldn’t help the sound that escaped him as he stumbled backward. Peter’s head immediately snapped over toward them, his eyes widening as he rushed over to them and within seconds, had them both pinned.

“What,” Peter’s voice was louder, an animalistic growl. “Are you doing here?”

“What are you?” Stiles asked right back, his eyes wide as saucers.

Peter, with his glowing eyes and fangs and his blood-splattered face, fixated him with an irritated glare before pushing off suddenly. He got a handkerchief out of his pocket and started cleaning the blood off himself. When he looked at Stiles and Malia again, his face was normal. No fangs, no glowing eyes. There was still blood on the collar of his shirt though.

“I’m a werewolf, dear boy,” Peter replied calmly. “Just like most of my family.”

Stiles’ head immediately snapped over to stare at Malia wide-eyed. Her eyes flashed golden.

“Coyote,” Malia grumbled softly. “Not a wolf.”

“A coyote who is in a lot of trouble with both her father and her Alpha,” Peter pointed out dryly. “Talia is not going to be happy with the pup who exposed our secret to a human.”

Malia winced at that. Stiles was still reeling from the realization that werewolves were real and he was apparently living with one. And a… were-coyote? The implications of this! Were vampires real too? Was Buffy real? Stiles sat up straighter at that. What about witches?

“I have like so many questions,” Stiles whispered, then paused, looking at the body. “Why did you hurt her? Is she like a vampire or something? Werewolves and vampires?”

Peter scoffed amused and grabbed Stiles by the collar of his shirt, lifting him a few inches off the ground until Stiles was yelping and flailing. “Vampires aren’t real, brat. She was a werewolf hunter. The one who set our house on fire, to be more precise.”

Stiles immediately stopped flailing and turned to look at the dead woman on the ground. It was her fault that his dad wasn’t waking up. She had nearly killed Peter, Malia and the rest of the Hales, who had all been nothing but kind to him ever since the fire. His eyes remained on her for as long as he could even while Peter carried him and Malia out of the clearing.

“You are both so grounded,” Peter grumbled softly. “And so am I, probably.”

/break\

The one year anniversary of the fire was rough on Stiles. The realization that his dad hadn’t woken up for one full year. That nothing seemed to change. Even though everything had changed. Half a year ago, he had learned that werewolves were real. That the Hales were werewolves. Damon, Aaron and Jason were human. Dalia was something else. A Druid, which was kind of like a witch but not really. She let him read her cool books and taught him some minor things, even though both Talia and Peter would scowl at her for it, she’d just grin mischievously and continue.

Stiles’ whole world had changed in that year. The Hale House was standing again. Or rather, a new one. Bigger, with some changes. The old one had been, well, old. This was more modern, fitting the needs of the current pack. Stiles had a room there too, just like everyone else. Peter and Malia stayed with Stiles in the Stilinski home though. But for sleep overs or when Peter had to go and do his duty as Left Hand – which was what Peter was, why he had killed the woman (Katherine Adeline Argent. Stiles had also learned everything he could about her, even though she was dead).

“Hey, pup,” Peter’s voice was gentle as he sat down next to Stiles.

“How did you find me?” Stiles asked with a glower, his legs drawn up to his chest.

“I was at the hospital first,” Peter admitted. “Nurse McCall said you had been by in the morning but stormed out crying. I went to the Nemeton next, you seem to gravitate toward it when you want to be left alone. So this was… my third guess. I didn’t…”

Peter hesitated and turned to look mournfully at the headstone against which they were both leaning right now. Stiles glared at the ground angrily. His hands were shaking, so he curled his fingers into his jeans to make them stop. He was just so, so, so angry at everything.

“My father died when I was seventeen,” Peter whispered gently. “I know, I had… many more years with him than you did with your mother. But I know how much it hurts. And that it never stops hurting. I know Claudia would… She would know what to do, what to say to you to make you feel better right now. I know how angry you are about your dad and there is nothing I can do and I’m sorry for that, pup. I’m so sorry.”

He wrapped his arms around Stiles and pulled him into a tight hug and just like that, Stiles started crying. He was sobbing into Peter’s chest, clinging onto the wolf. He couldn’t lose his dad, but now it had been a whole year and he… Maybe his dad was never going to wake up again.

/break\

Things were different in middle school. Status mattered, suddenly. And the Hale name held weight. Cora, Sloan and Malia were popular. And Stiles was too, by association. He was, at this point, an unofficial Hale. A ‘cool crowd’ formed around them and it somehow included Jackson Whittemore, on account of being Lydia Martin’s boyfriend. Stiles thought eleven year olds shouldn’t have boyfriends, but then they were talking about Lydia Martin and she had a twenty year plan for her life and a folder for her wedding and all, so it kinda figured. Lydia and Sloan were quick friends, the smartest girls in school (also, coincidentally, both badass redheads) and they somehow had Stiles tag along. Danny too, who was Jackson’s best friend but he was also super smart.

“What’s wrong, Stiles? You seem… stressed,” Damon asked with a kind smile.

They were at the Hale House today, because Peter had important lawyer stuff to do. Stiles was sitting at the kitchen counter, kicking his feet and reading one of Dalia’s books. Malia, Cora and Sloan were doing homework, but Stiles had done his during lunch already.

“Nothing,” Stiles wiggled his nose and tried to focus on the text.

“He’s trying to find a magic way to wake his dad,” Cora said from the living room.

“Traitor,” Stiles shot Cora a glare at that.

Damon heaved a sigh and sat down next to him. “Stiles… If there was a magic way to wake your dad, we would have already done it. Dalia would have already found it.”

“She doesn’t know everything!” Stiles exclaimed upset, turning to now glare at Damon. “There is a ton of magic stuff she doesn’t know, maybe this is one of them! Like Talia can heal with her Alpha powers or whatever, I know that, Peter told me that she was ready to give up her Alpha spark during the fire if it had meant to save you guys and I don’t want her to have to do that, but-”

“She wouldn’t be able to,” Damon cut Stiles off. “An Alpha can use their spark to heal their pack members, but your father isn’t a part of our pack.”

Stiles deflated, the wind taken out of his sails. “...Oh.”

Damon reached out to grasp him by the shoulders, looking intensely into Stiles’ eyes. “We, all of us, are doing everything we can to help your father, Stiles. Dalia, Peter and Fiona are using all their contacts trying to find healers or a magic way to wake your father, but there are things that magic can’t fix, regardless of how much we want it to.”

Stiles’ lower lip wobbled and before he could start fully crying, Damon pulled him into a hug. Stiles curled against the man as he cried out his despair. He just wanted his dad back.

/break\

Stiles was instantly suspicious when Fiona picked him up. She was the cool aunt, but she also didn’t exactly hang out a lot with the kids. Usually, Damon did the school pick ups and drop offs, now that Laura was graduated she did too on occasion. The most suspicious part of it was that Derek was herding Cora, Sloan and Malia along on foot, causing the girls to complain.

“We’re going to have the tough conversation that nobody in my pack is willing to have with you, kid,” Fiona declared as she parked the car in front of the Stilinski home.

Stiles’ breath hitched at that. Nobody had brought up taking his dad off of life support yet. They knew he’d rather run than do that. Fiona turned in her seat to look at him with a serious expression.

“Malia is still young, it’s not good for her to be away from the pack all the time. A young, born were needs to grow up with their pack. Living at your house is affecting her in ways she’s trying to hide, especially from you,” Fiona continued. “And it’s not great for Peter either. He’s stretched thin, taking care of you and Malia on his own in that house, trying to make enough time to bond with the pack, fulfilling his duties as the Left Hand and his daytime job.”

Stiles furrowed his brows in confusion. “I don’t understand…?”

“It’s been eighteen months now,” Fiona’s voice softened. “Peter and Malia moved into your house to offer you stability. Also because our home was burned down. And it worked, while we were renting a house down the street. The Hale House stands again, it’s… too far away for you kids to pop in at random all the time like you used to. It’s your turn now to move so they can have stability, Stiles. It’s important for the pack and I think it’s the right thing for you too, kid.”

Stiles glowered and clung onto his backpack. He knew Malia had been sulking more lately but he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it. The Hales had moved back into the preserve. The more time passed, the more that was getting to her, apparently. And Stiles could tell that Peter was getting more stressed too. It probably would be easier to take care of his duties, his work and the kids if he had a house full of Hales to help with the kids and the household too. Stile sank down in his seat.

“It just feels like… like giving up on dad,” Stiles whispered sullenly.

“Nobody wants you to give up on your dad. But you can’t put your life – and everyone else’s life – on hold either,” Fiona pointed out. “The world has to move on, even if your dad isn’t.”

/break\

“I feel like I failed you,” Peter whispered, running a hand over his face. “I wanted to provide Stiles with the stability he needed, I wanted to keep him in your home, where all his memories of you and Claudia are. I thought I could do it. But I couldn’t.”

Peter averted his eyes, unable to look at the unmoving figure of Noah. Even after all these months, it didn’t stop being unsettling to see Noah like this. Unresponsive, pale, vulnerable. The man had always moved, always acted. As a deputy, as the sheriff, he was a man of action. Sitting idle had never become him well. Peter’s hand curled into the blanket right next to Noah’s hand.

“Stiles moved in with us,” Peter admitted, feeling guilty. “And it… it does make things easier. I can split the pick up and drop off duties with the rest of the family, I don’t have to cook every meal, I don’t have to keep the house clean on my own, I know even if I run late, the kids will be safe.”

Silence fell, with only the beeping of the machines. Peter chanced a look at Noah, but his face was as expressionless as always. Peter swallowed hard, remembering laughter and scoldings.

“It’s easier for me, but it took Stiles away from his home,” Peter frowned. “We didn’t sell the house. I am not giving up on you, Noah. And neither is Stiles. But you… you have to wake up.”

He looked at the comatose man pleadingly, like he could will Noah to open his eyes. The machines kept beeping. Noah kept not moving. And Peter kept despairing.

/break\

“Brats. That’s enough nerding for today, get a move on.”

Sloan cut off in the middle of her very interesting rant about how the internet had first been created, and all three – Sloan, Danny and Stiles – looked up at the voice of an annoyed Derek. Now that he was old enough to have a driver’s license, he got put onto pick up and drop off duties too, so when Sloan and Stiles went to the library to meet with Danny, Derek had apparently drawn the short stick.

“Your cousin is kinda hot,” Danny whispered to Stiles and Sloan.

“Gross,” Stiles and Sloan said, both shooting Danny a glare.

Not because Danny liked boys. But because this was Derek they were talking about. Danny had told them he didn’t like girls and only liked boys a couple months ago. It hadn’t been a big deal or anything, they had all been on a sleepover at the Hale House and done Truth or Dare and Cora had asked Danny which girl he had a crush on and he had just said he didn’t have crushes on girls. Jackson had glared challenging at everyone like he was ready to beat up anyone who had a problem with this, which was like Jackson’s one good quality – he really cared a lot about Danny and Lydia. Everyone had just kind of shrugged and moved on. Well, everyone aside from Stiles.

Liking boys had not really been something Stiles had considered as an option yet. He thought boys liked girls, and girls liked boys. He’d liked Lydia Martin since preschool, after all. But ever since Danny had told him that, Stiles, in his ever lasting curiosity, had wondered about it. He didn’t really see a difference. Boys were pretty too. Danny had these really cute dimples when he smiled. Jackson was a total pretty boy. Stiles had kind of just always assumed that that was normal. But the fact that Danny, as a boy, liking boys was something special made him think that just perhaps it wasn’t as common as Stiles had always assumed.

“We aren’t done yet,” Sloan complained frustrated.

“Tough luck,” Derek shot her a look. “You can finish whatever nerd project you’re doing tomorrow. I had practice, I wanna go home and eat. So get a move on. Danny, I’m supposed to drop you off at home too, so pack up.”

“Thanks,” Danny offered Derek one of his dimpled smiles.

Stiles really liked those, they made Danny’s eyes sparkle prettily. Which was one of those maybe not as common thoughts. But then how could anyone look at Danny and not think he was pretty?

/break\

Knocking on Stiles’ door disturbed his sulking. Before he had a chance to say anything did the door open and he was ready to scream and complain about privacy, but then Dalia’s smiling face pushed in and the scent of fresh pie filled his senses. Dalia held up a plate with a huge slice of pie.

“I made cherry pie,” Dalia walked over to him and put the plate down. “I thought you may like a piece. Cherry was always your father’s favorite, right?”

“It is,” Stiles nodded slowly, looking up at her with teary eyes.

It was Noah’s birthday today. Peter had taken Stiles to the hospital to see his dad, but all it had done was make Stiles so angry because his dad was still not awake. Two years. Two years and no change. Dalia put the pie down and instead pulled Stiles into a tight embrace. Stiles was getting really, really, really tired of needing to be hugged and comforted because he was crying. He wanted to be strong, he wanted to be happy again. And above all, he wanted his dad to wake up again.

“I know, sweetie,” Dalia murmured, smoothing down his hair. “I know.”

/break\

Anita had tapped out first, citing that Alicia would be waking them early tomorrow. Susie and Berto had tapped out second. Verne, the good soul he was, let Peter stay at the bar until past closing and he only shot Peter the occasional concerned glance. By dawn, Fiona and Aaron walked into Verne’s bar and collected Peter, each slinging one of Peter’s arms around their shoulders.

“Two years, Peter,” Fiona whispered, not looking at him, just staring ahead out the front window.

Today was the two year anniversary of the fire. Noah’s birthday not long ago had already hit hard enough. But now it was officially two years. Two years of Peter trying to do his best to keep things together, to help Stiles, to do everything he could. He slouched in the backseat, burying his face in his brother’s shoulder. Aaron heaved a sigh and wrapped an arm around him.

“Isn’t it time you move on?” Aaron asked softly. “This isn’t healthy, Peter. After Claudia… I thought you two could find together, shared grief and all. But Noah has been in a coma for two years now and… I know we’re not saying this to Stiles, but… he’s likely never going to wake up.”

“I told Stiles that he can’t put his life on hold and the same goes for you too,” Fiona shot him a look through the rear-view mirror. “You need to stop living in that hospital room.”

Peter growled and bared his fangs at her. “I’m not giving up on him.”

/break\

Stiles was thirteen when he had his first kiss. It had come very unexpected and from a very unexpected person too. It was summer and their friend group was hanging out at the Martin lake house together. Cora and Malia had absolutely wrecked Jackson and Danny at water ball. The two girls were now having a swim race, while Jackson had sulked over to Lydia, cuddling with her and kissing. Danny had come to join Sloan and Stiles at the docks, reading.

“Why are you glaring, Stiles?” Danny asked with a heavy sigh.

He’d settled real close to Stiles, Stiles could feel the warmth of his skin and could practically count Danny’s lashes. Sloan on his other side huffed as she turned a page. So maybe Stiles’ giant crush on Lydia was the most open secret in the world.

“I just think that Lydia can do better than Jackson,” Stiles muttered. “She deserves better. Like, they have broken up three times this year. It’s stupid and ridiculous.”

“It is,” Danny agreed with a solemn nod. “But have you considered that it takes two to get back together? Which they have also done three times. You keep looking at the way Jackson treats her, but she treats him the same. They very much do deserve each other. Whatever is wrong with them is wrong with both of them in the same way.”

Stiles opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to argue. Two years ago, he would have argued the world about this. But now that he was actually friends with Lydia, knew her – flaws and all – he knew that she wasn’t the perfect goddess he had put on a pedestal. She was just a girl. And she was kind of weird and intense about Jackson.

“It’s time you get over this crush on Lydia,” Danny sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Why,” Stiles huffed offended. “Leave me to my pining.”

“Because while you pine for someone who doesn’t look at you twice, you may be missing out on someone who is actually interested in you, idiot,” Danny argued.

Stiles couldn’t help but snort at that. What a ridiculous notion. Who was supposed to be interested in him? He was the sidekick. The add-on that came with the Hale girls. People invited him to parties because he went wherever Malia, Cora and Sloan went. Not because they liked spending time with him. The only person who willingly spent time with him was Danny. He was really good with a computer and could hack any database which had opened so many more resources for Stiles’ rabbit-holes and it just took one Bambi-eyed look from Stiles to make Danny cave and help out.

“Yeah, right,” Stiles shot Danny a look. “Who would wanna kiss me?”

“Danny does!” Sloan explained exasperated, closing her book loudly and sitting up as she glared at them both. “Seriously, he could not make it any more obvious unless he kissed you! Urgh, you’re horribly oblivious sometimes, Mieczysław. I’m getting more iced tea.”

She stomped off, complaining under her breath about Stiles, while Stiles was left gaping after her. When he turned some, he was met with the pretty dimpled-smile from Danny and a slightly exasperated look and… oh. Wait. Was Sloan actually right?

“Look,” Danny sighed. “I’m not doing the whole pining for a straight guy thing. But I care enough about you that I want you to at least… don’t be stuck pining for someone who doesn’t want you.”

Stiles bit his lip, cheeks dark red as scattered thoughts of liking girls and boys came hitting him full-force. “I’m not. Straight, I mean. I, like, like girls. But I also like boys.”

Danny raised his eyebrows at that and sat up too. “Oh. Okay. I didn’t know that. Because you always only talk about Lydia and her cute dimples.”

“You have cute dimples too,” Stiles blurted out before he could think better of it.

His cheeks flushed dark-red and he suddenly felt like a total idiot because just how often had he thought about how pretty Danny was and how nice his eyes were and how much he liked spending time with Danny…? He’d been thinking about Danny more than about Lydia, lately.

“Oh,” Stiles whispered as he was hit with that realization. “I think I might have a crush on you but I’m so used to having a crush on Lydia that I may not have… noticed.”

For a very long moment, Danny just stared at him, like he was trying to comprehend the entity that was Stiles Stilinski, before he burst into laughter and, with the fondest smile possible, leaned in. He tilted his head a little and gave Stiles a look and it took another moment for Stiles to catch on with the fact that Danny wanted to kiss him. Wide-eyed did Stiles meet Danny halfway. It was messy and awkward because Stiles had no idea what to do with his anything, but it was still the best thing ever. There were wolf-whistles (and coyote-whistles) coming from the lake, causing the boys to break apart. Stiles turned to glare heatedly at Cora and Malia.

Lydia smiled pleased at them. “It’s about time. I was wondering how long it’ll take you two to figure this out. I thought me and Sloan had to lock you two in a closet together.”

“I already came out of the closet years ago, Lydia,” Danny rolled his eyes.

Jackson huffed and fixed Stiles with a glare. “If you hurt him, I’ll hurt you.”

“If you hurt Stiles, I’ll hurt you, Jackson,” Malia warned when she climbed out of the water.

“Personally, I don’t want a part in any of this,” Cora pointed out. “But good for you, Stiles.”

She smirked and ruffled his head in passing. Stiles flushed and ducked his head.

/break\

“The kids are really nervous about high school,” Peter whispered softly, quirking his lips. “Well, Malia is terrified of the math. Derek may have played a part in that, telling her about the abomination that is high school math. Cora is indifferent to the whole thing but she is set on joining the lacrosse team, I think purely to spite me. Back in my day, we used to play basketball at that school. Lacrosse. You know who brought lacrosse to the school? Bobby Finstock.”

Peter snorted out a laugh as he remembered the awkward nerdy kid from his own high school days. Bobby had always kind of run on his own time. It figured he’d do something outlandish, instead of one of the big classics – basketball, football, baseball. Cora had been talking about it, about wanting to join a sports team in high school. Jackson, Danny and Stiles seemed on board with it too.

“I’m unsure about Stiles on a sports team,” Peter muttered, pulling a face. “I have done my best in the past years to keep that boy fit, but he is an absolute disaster. I don’t understand where he got this from, Claudia was always graceful and you were captain of the football team back in your day. Oh yeah, I saw the pictures. You managed to make that ridiculous outfit look good, you know.”

For a moment, Peter paused, chuckling to himself. He was holding Noah’s hand, gently running his thumb over the back of Noah’s hand. There was no pain to siphon. Peter wondered if that was good or bad. Pain would mean Noah was still definitely feeling something. What if the lack of pain was just another sign that the man was really gone? It had been nearly four years now.

“Speaking of ridiculous outfits you managed to make look good,” Peter shot Noah a dazzling smile that went unanswered. “Laura joined the sheriff station. She’s a deputy now.”

Peter was proud of his niece. It had taken her some time to figure out what she wanted in life, the fire had messed her up and shaken her a lot. It had shaken them all, really.

“I’m sure Stiles already told you, but he has a boyfriend now,” Peter’s voice took on a teasing tone but the sad expression on his face didn’t match it. “Danny. Smart kid. I did my best to give an intimidating shovel talk that had Stiles throw a pillow at me.”

Peter laughed at the memory and the laughter quickly morphed into tears. Noah should have been there, should have been the one to give the shovel talk, to hear Stiles so excitedly talk about his boyfriend. To see Stiles growing up. Peter’s heart seized at all that Noah was missing.

/break\

“I have a surprise for you,” Peter smirked as he covered Stiles’ eyes.

The boy tried to squirm out of it to see, ever so curious. Peter couldn’t help but laugh as they reached the driveway. Lifting his hands away from Stiles’ face, he showed off the car. It was a used model, because there truly was no reason to get a kid a new car when they were just learning how to drive. Stiles paused and stared at the car with a frown.

“You’re fifteen now, I figured it’s time to teach you how to drive,” Peter grinned pleased. “And if you do good, you get to keep the car after. How does that sound?”

“I don’t need a car. I don’t want a car,” Stiles forced out with an angry glare. “I don’t want you to teach me how to drive either! You’re not my dad!”

And just like that, Stiles stormed off. Peter had no idea what to do with this. Fifteen was the age Derek had been when Peter started teaching him how to drive, at Damon’s request (Talia was a public hazard behind the wheel and she should not ever teach anyone how to drive and Damon had enough other things on his plate, running the Hale household).

“So—o, how did it go?” Laura asked sarcastically when Peter entered the house.

Peter shot her a glare. “You heard exactly how it went. I don’t know why though.”

Heaving a sigh, Peter sat down on the couch next to Laura. She was sitting at the living room table with Derek, sorting through college pamphlets with her little brother. Derek squirmed, like there was something he wasn’t saying. Peter immediately zeroed in on that.

“What do you know that I don’t, Derek?” Peter asked sharply.

Derek gave a half-shrug, not meeting Peter’s eyes. “What Stiles said. That you’re not his dad. It’s because driving is something his dad always wanted to teach him. Stiles… When I got my car, Stiles told me that it’s a stupid car and doesn’t come close to his Jeep and I kind of scoffed at him, because he was just a kid back then why would he have a car. But… Apparently, his dad put his mom’s old Jeep in storage after she died and he promised Stiles to teach him how to drive with it.”

Peter’s face fell at those words. He’d meant to do something nice for Stiles, but instead, it was just another reminder of what Noah was missing out. And Peter hadn’t known about the Jeep. Laura hesitated as she looked at her uncle sideways.

“Do you want me to find out where the sheriff put it in storage?” Laura asked softly.

“I… Yes. Yes, that would be… Thank you, dear,” Peter nodded and got up again.

He grabbed his keys and headed out of the door. This time, when he went looking for Stiles, he knew exactly where to go. He found the teen sitting in front of his mother’s gravestone, just like he had done so many times before over the years. With a heavy sigh did he sink down next to Stiles.

“I’m sorry, pup,” Peter whispered. “I didn’t know your dad kept Roscoe.”

Stiles’ head snapped up at that name. “You know her name?”

“Of course I do,” Peter huffed offended. “Who do you think helped Claudia pick her name? It means roebuck forest. I always teased her about her Bambi eyes, you know.”

He shot Stiles a grin and bumped shoulders just slightly with him. Stiles let him. The boy bit his lower lip hard and ducked his head before launching himself at Peter, throwing the wolf off-balance with the force of the sudden hug. Blinking surprised, Peter wrapped his arms around Stiles.

“I’m sorry I said that,” Stiles’ voice was muffled by Peter’s chest. “You’re not my dad but you’re also not not my dad. You’ve been there for me all this time. But I just-”

“I’m not Noah. I know that, believe me,” Peter sighed, hugging Stiles tightly.

“Maybe you could be like my Stepwolf? Not dad but… Stepwolf?” Stiles asked softly.

“Stepwolf,” Peter hummed thoughtfully. “I like that, yes.”

They hugged quietly for a while before Stiles lifted his head. “Would… Would you teach me how to drive? Because Derek is su—uper annoying and annoyed whenever he picks us up and Sloan and I could just go to the library whenever and I could visit Danny-”

“Well, I don’t know if I want to teach you how to drive to enable you sneaking around with your boyfriend,” Peter frowned displeased at that. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t know how to drive.”

“Shut u—up,” Stiles groaned and smacked Peter’s chest. “You are the worst.”

Peter laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair. “I’d be honored to teach you. After we get Roscoe.”

Stiles perked up at that and blinked tears away before nodding reluctantly.

/break\

Stiles wasn’t pouting. If his lower lip was protruding and his cheeks were puffed up a little then that was entirely unrelated to anything. With just the smallest whine did he cuddle closer to his boyfriend, who immediately adjusted so he could still reach his laptop. Urgh.

“Stop hacking the NSA and pay attention to me,” Stiles complained.

Okay, so maybe he was pouting. But what was the point of visiting his boyfriend for cuddles if said boyfriend was glued to the screen all the time? Entirely unfair. Stiles was right here!

“I’m not hacking the NSA, dork,” Danny snorted and wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders to pull him closer. “If you have to know, I am haggling a guy who owns some antique book store in New York on that medieval book about Slavic firebirds that you wanted.”

Immediately did Stiles sit up straight, accidentally hitting Danny in the ribs with his elbow in the process. The other boy gave a pained grunt and Stiles winced in apology.

“Wait, are you for real?” Stiles asked eagerly.

“You really wanted it,” Danny shrugged, cheeks a little red.

“I didn’t think you were listening to all of that,” Stiles admitted, ruffling his hair awkwardly. “I mean, I was going on for like a long time there.”

“You usually are,” Danny smirked teasingly. “I just happen to find it kinda adorable.”

“Oh,” Stiles blushed and ducked his head. “Well then, proceed.”

He snuggled back against Danny’s side, earning an amused snort from Danny, who did settle with one arm around Stiles’ waist so Stiles was getting at least some attention even though it meant Danny had to type one-handed. Leaning up, Stiles pecked his boyfriend’s cheek with a grin.

“You know…” Danny trailed off just a little there, shooting Stiles a look.

“Yeah?” Stiles nudged his boyfriend. “What’s up?”

“You know Lydia and her twenty year plan, right?” Danny asked, causing Stiles to nod. “We’re going to start sophomore year soon and she is, as always, five steps ahead.”

“The point, Dannyboy. You are usually not the rambling part of this relationship,” Stiles teased.

“Being friends with you and Sloan really helped her admit her own intelligence. She always played up the airheaded pretty girl before that,” Danny continued. “She wants to go to MIT. And I kind of… Well, I was thinking so too. And you know Jackson is set to follow his dad’s footsteps, make the firm Whittemore & Son. Harvard Law happens to be in Cambridge too. Granted, his grades need to improve some for that but Lydia is ready to whip him into shape.”

“Oh,” Stiles blinked repeatedly. “That… That’s cool.”

“I was just wondering, since you never really… talk about it,” Danny looked at Stiles so softly.

There was the unspoken part. The dad part. College would mean leaving Beacon Hills, would mean leaving his dad and what if something happened and he really never woke up again and Stiles had left him or what if his dad woke up and Stiles wasn’t there. And how was Stiles even supposed to pay for college? He didn’t have a job, his dad had been in a coma for five years now, no income, certainly no college fund. Not that there had been one before, because his mom’s medical bills had been really high and they’d paid those off for the most part, with what money they had.

Stiles could be glad that the Hales were paying for Noah’s medical expenses, but Stiles also knew that that was guilt. Noah was only in the coma because he had saved the Hales. And Stiles also knew that taking Stiles in had been a guilt decision. They may have grown fond of him, but they still had only taken him in out of guilt and obligation toward Noah, for saving them. Right now, he was still a minor and he was really grateful that they had taken him in and paid for clothes and food and everything, but once Stiles would be eighteen, they had no obligations toward him anymore.

It was time he learned to stand on his own two feet so he wouldn’t fall flat on his face.

/break\

“Can you do me a favor, Fiona?” Stiles asked a few nights later.

They were preparing dinner, Fiona was cutting onions while complaining about it loudly, while Derek, Stiles and Peter were peeling potatoes, Cora and Sloan were cutting up vegetables and Jason kept sneakily stealing pieces of carrot from his sister’s cutting board.

“Stop that, you will spoil your appetite and there won’t be any carrots left in the stew,” Damon chided his nephew as he caught Jason red-handed.

Jason made direct eye-contact with his uncle before stuffing three more pieces in his mouth. Damon heaved an exasperated sigh and returned his attention to the meat. All the while, Fiona paused her complains about the onions long enough to give Stiles her attention.

“Sure thing, kid. What do you need? Get out of jail free card?” Fiona asked teasingly.

“Could you sell the house for me?” Stiles asked without looking at her.

It got really quiet around him and he refused to look up to meet anyone’s eyes. He focused on the potatoes. He’d spent the past couple days considering this and he knew it was the right call. Fiona was a real estate agent, she would be able to sell it for a good price, for sure.

“That’s… unexpected,” Fiona audibly put her knife down. “Sure thing. But what brought that on?”

Stiles swallowed hard, knowing his heart was ticking a bit at that. “Danny asked me about college. And it’s not like I have like a college fund or anything. I can manage a scholar ship, for sure, but there’s more costs than just tuition and a partial scholar ship is more likely than a full ride too, so I’ll probably be stuck with some of the cost too and I figured the house would-”

“Stiles, of course do you have a college fund,” Peter interrupted him.

“Huh,” Stiles looked up at the wolf in confusion.

“The pack has a college fund for all pups,” Talia clarified as she stepped in.

Her gaze was uncomfortably unsettling as she looked at Stiles, making him feel like he had done something wrong. He squirmed a little and looked away from the Alpha.

“Yeah, well. I’m neither a pup nor pack,” Stiles pointed out. “I can’t leech off you guys forever. I’m gonna be eighteen at one point and I’ll have to learn to take care of myself, which includes paying my own bills because there’s not gonna be a good Samaritan around all the time.”

“Okay, kids. We’re taking a break from cooking, there is something that needs to be done somewhere else in this house,” Damon declared while clearing his throat. “Come on.”

He kissed his wife in passing before herding everyone else, aside from Talia, Peter and Stiles, out of the kitchen. Stiles squirmed again, looking up at the two adults. Had he made this awkward? He hadn’t meant to, he just wanted to take care of himself.

“I’m sorry you were under the impression that you’re not pack,” Talia frowned as she sat down next to him. “Of course you’re pack, Stiles. Blood or not. You’re family.”

“I just… I’m the kid you took in because his dad got injured saving you,” Stiles stared at the table. “And I’m really grateful for it. I really am. But I gotta learn to take care of myself.”

“You don’t,” Peter reached out and took Stiles’ hand, taking the knife out of it. “Stiles, remember the conversation we had? That I’m not your dad? But I’m still your something. I like being your Stepwolf. I didn’t take you in because I thought I owed it to Noah. I took you in because you’re Noah and Claudia’s son and I didn’t want you to be on your own. Even when your father wakes up, I need you to know that I’ll always be there for you, pup. Being your foster father isn’t an obligation that will cut out when you turn eighteen.”

Stiles looked up in surprise at that and he could feel tears in his eyes. “But…”

“No buts, pup,” Peter shook his head firmly. “As Talia said, you are part of this family. I… Considering your strong reaction to the car, I never brought it up, even before that because I knew you wouldn’t take well to it, but… I would like to adopt you.”

Stiles swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “What.”

“You’re not the only one who has been thinking about the future and had these concerns,” Peter’s lips twisted in a sad smile. “I want to adopt you to make sure you will be taken care of. The Hale name carries weight and brings a certain level of security. I want you financially taken care of. You are not alone and I never want you to feel like you have to fend for yourself. It… It’s been five years now, Stiles. The chances of Noah ever waking up are… so slim. I want you taken care of whether or not he wakes up.”

“Oh,” Stiles blinked a couple of times and then shot Talia a look.

“You’re pack, Stiles,” Talia smiled kindly at him. “Whether you accept Peter’s offer or not.”

Five years was a very long time of waiting for his dad. It was also a very long time of living with the Hales and… and being a part of this family. He swallowed hard and nodded before wrapping his arms around his Stepwolf. Peter scent-marked him and pulled him in close.

“I’d like that,” Stiles nodded, face buried in Peter’s neck. “But… But I think I still want to sell the house. Even if it’s not for the money.”

“Are you sure about that?” Peter asked concerned. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s been five years, Peter,” Stiles whispered. “I’m not ready to… to pull the plug on him, but… The house is standing empty and we just… we try to keep it clean and all but it’s more like a ghost at this point. All my stuff is already here. We could put dad’s stuff in storage, with… with mom’s things. I don’t… I live here, this has been home for years now.”

“If it’s really what you want, then we’ll pack up the house and Fiona will look into selling it,” Talia nodded at him with a proud but sad smile. “You don’t have to do any of that alone, Stiles.”

Stiles gave a soft nod at that, worrying his lip. Part of him felt guilty about this. Giving up the house felt so final. But he’d barely been over in a year or so. It was just… a lot of guilt. Ghosts of the past, memories of his mom and dad and a happy childhood that was long gone. It was time to move on.

/break\

Stiles was at the mall with Danny, Lydia, Jackson, Sloan, Malia and Cora when everything changed. He was trying on outfits for their winter formal, seizing Danny’s reaction in particular while Lydia kept ordering everyone around – she wanted them color-coded or whatever, so the whole group would match with each other – when his phone rang. Danny had his arms around Stiles’ waist, in the middle of pulling him into a kiss because apparently the dark-red suit did things to him.

“Hold on,” Stiles laughed as he shoved against his boyfriend. “Hey, uncle Aaron. What’s up?”

It had been tentative at first, after signing the adoption papers. After the Hales all helped together to pack up the house. After Stiles took on the name, because he’d wanted to do it right. Mieczysław Stilinski Hale. But he was now trying to really integrate himself into the family. Aunt Talia rolled off the tongue pretty easily, even though he had been super nervous at first. But she’d looked so pleased and proud at it and he got a little braver about it.

“Hey, kid,” Aaron’s voice sounded weird. “Where are you right now?”

“We’re at the mall. Didn’t Sloan tell you we’re buying clothes for the winter formal?” Stiles shot Sloan a look, who just nodded at it. “We’ll probably be another, I don’t know, three to five hours, depending on how much we obey Lydia.”

“You just have to dress better,” Lydia heaved and exasperated sigh. “I will wrestle Cora into a dress, if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Cora growled and looked short of flashing her eyes.

Stiles laughed at that and leaned more comfortably against Danny’s chest. “Why you asking?”

“Can one of your friends drive you to the hospital?” Aaron asked.

That had Stiles frown confused. “Oh, don’t tell me your car broke down again. I thought Derek fixed that. I swear, he is like the worst mechanic in the world-”

“Your Jeep is an outlier and not even the best mechanic in the world would be able to fix her so I think it’s unfair to measure Derek’s skills on it,” Malia pointed out.

Stiles rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. “Can’t someone else pick you up from work? We really do kinda need some more time…?”

“My car is fine, Stiles. I just need you to come by the hospital and I don’t want you to drive.”

The frown returned to Stiles’ face. Why was Aaron being so weirdly cryptic? Why should Sti… His eyes widened and his phone slipped from his hand when it washed over him like ice-water. Something had happened to his dad. Oh no. No, no, no.

“Hey,” Danny whispered gently. “Stiles? Babe? What’s wrong?”

“Dad, what did you say to Stiles? He’s panicking?” Sloan complained, sounding panicked herself. “Wh… What. Oh. Oh my gosh. We’re on our way right now. We’ll be there soon.”

She hung up Stiles’ phone and then suddenly hugged Stiles tightly, but it didn’t seem like a sad, comforting hug. She was practically vibrating as he hugged him, which was weird.

“Guys, pay for whatever we have right now and then we’re leaving,” Sloan ordered, unusually bossy. “Stiles’ dad woke up. We have to go to the hospital right now.”

It took a few seconds for that to sink in. Wait, what. Woke up. That… Stiles stopped expecting this call years ago. He always only dreaded the call that his dad was dead. He had kind of given up on the thought of Noah actually waking up, even though he kept visiting his dad every week.

“H… He woke up…?” Stiles’ voice cracked.

“I’m going ahead with Stiles and Danny,” Jackson offered, kissing Lydia’s cheek. “You pay up here and follow in the Jeep as soon as you’re done?”

Lydia nodded and gave her boyfriend a smile. Stiles just blinked doe-eyed at Lydia, Cora, Malia and Sloan, even when Malia took the Jeep’s keys out of Stiles’ pocket and gave him a bone-crushing hug. His dad was awake. His dad was awake and he was going to get to see him. Holy shit.

/break\

When Noah first woke up, he had been a bit disoriented. That feeling only got worse the longer he was awake. He had been in a coma for six years. Doctors kept telling him stuff about his condition, what had happened. Laura – little Laura Hale, all grown up and wearing a deputy uniform – came to see him with the actual file on the Hale fire. It sat on his bedside table now and as much as he wanted to read up on what had happened and as much as he appreciated her for it, he could not tear his eyes away from his son. His sixteen year old teenage son.

“How are you this big,” Noah whispered, his voice cracking.

He cupped Stiles’ face, tracing familiar moles with his thumb. There was no denying that this was Stiles, but it still felt unbelievable. The last time he’d seen his son, he had tucked a ten year old lanky kid into bed, Stiles had been wearing Batman pajamas and complained about bedtime. Now he was… he was practically a man. But he still had Claudia’s eyes.

“The Hales have been feeding me well in the past six years?” Stiles offered with a weak smile.

Noah nodded, the feeling of disorientation only intensifying. He’d been awake for five hours now and after all the tests and the talk to the doctor, he had gotten updated on Stiles. That the Hales had taken him in, had taken care of him in these past six years.

“I am so sorry, kiddo,” Noah pulled Stiles into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I left you for so long.”

“I… I missed you so much,” Stiles hiccuped as he buried himself in his dad’s chest.

“I missed you too, kiddo,” Noah pressed a kiss to the top of his son’s head.

Six years. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like for Stiles. He clung even tighter onto his son, grateful that Stiles hadn’t been alone during that time.

/break\

When Aaron had called him, Peter hadn’t been able to believe it, not really at first. Even as he drove to the hospital, he was somewhat detached. He watched from the doorway how Stiles and Noah hugged and cried. He stood vigil while Stiles started telling Noah about what had happened in the past six years. The boy laid curled together, with his head in his dad’s lap, while Noah kept running his fingers through Stiles’ hair, smiling down at his son. Peter just stood there, quietly watching, too in awe at seeing Noah upright again, at seeing Noah smile again. He’d nearly forgotten the color of Noah’s eyes and the realization was jarring and painful.

The doctors insisted on keeping him two more days, to make sure he was really fine. The Hales used that time to prepare the house. They cleared out one of the studies on the first floor, put a hospital bed in. Six years or not moving meant that Noah’s muscles had deteriorated. He would be needing excessive physical therapy, and easier access.

“This really isn’t necessary,” Noah sighed as Peter helped him onto the bed.

“It is. The last thing we need is for you to fall, hit your head and end up in another coma,” Stiles shot his dad a glare while he supervised. “Say ‘thank you, Peter’.”

Noah made a show of rolling his eyes but the look on his face was very sincere as he looked up at Peter. “Thank you, Peter.”

Peter choked on any kind of reply. He didn’t know how to handle any of this. Noah being awake again, talking to him again, living in the Hale House with them. This was going to be so much too much. And what place did Peter now have in Stiles’ life anymore? Noah was going to get better and the two were probably going to take an apartment together or something. Oh, great. Now he was spiraling, which was the last thing he needed, really. Taking a deep breath, he nodded.

“Aaron is looking into a physical therapist for you who will be able to visit us here,” Peter said.

“You really don’t have to do all of this,” Noah sighed.

“Shut up, dad,” Stiles huffed and sat down next to him. “They are like compulsively helpful. You will have to learn to accept it, you know.”

Noah snorted and ruffled his son’s hair. Peter’s heart clenched as he looked at the two.

/break\

Stiles was right, the Hales really were compulsively helpful. They helped Noah settle into the house and somehow also into their family. A couple days after he had moved into the Hale House, there was a winter formal and Stiles’ boyfriend came to pick him up, but Damon forced them all to pose at the doorway together. Stiles, wearing a suit and tie and a smile as he held hands with his boyfriend. Because his son was no longer a little kid. He was a teenager. Nearly a man.

“I made you a tea. It’s cold out,” Peter noted as he came to join Noah on the porch.

He sat down next to Noah and handed him a steaming mug. “He is so big, Peter. He’s so grown. I… I missed so much. He has a boyfriend? He used to always talk about the Martin girl.”

“Lydia,” Peter nodded. “They’re friends now. Danny is a great kid, he makes Stiles happy.”

Noah nodded at that, pleased. Silence stretched on between them while Noah drank his tea.

“Thank you. For taking care of him while I couldn’t,” Noah whispered.

“I felt like I owed Claudia that,” Peter admitted pained.

Noah let some more silence pass between them as he considered what to say next. “She knew.”

“Knew…?” Peter frowned confused at him.

“She never held a grudge for the way you pulled away after we had Stiles,” Noah couldn’t meet Peter’s eyes. “She knew how you felt about me and she never… She understood that things must have been hard for you. We both understood that.”

“Oh,” Peter averted his own eyes at that. “So you knew too?”

“I’ve known since I met you and Claudia,” Noah huffed out a laugh. “You were both equally horrible in flirting with me. They called you the jailbait duo, at the station.”

Peter sputtered at that, looking mildly embarrassed. “I… didn’t know you knew.”

Noah reached out to take Peter’s hand and give it a squeeze. “Thank you, for being there for Stiles when he needed you, and not running away and hiding. You… You did a good job, Peter.”

“I did my best,” Peter’s voice was a bit wobbly as he squeezed back.

And then he pulled his hand back. Before Noah could say anything, Peter turned away to head back inside. A sad smile spread over Noah’s lips. He supposed that wasn’t something Peter would want to talk about yet. It wasn’t something Noah wanted to talk about yet either. He was still reeling from all the things that had changed in the past six years, he was not ready to examine his feelings for Claudia’s best friend. Though he would be lying if he denied the attraction. Both Claudia and Peter had been beautiful menaces, but when she had asked him out and Peter had pulled away, the decision seemed to have been made for him. Only much later did Noah realize that Peter hadn’t lost interest, he had just bowed out for Claudia’s sake. That wasn’t something Noah was willing to consider right now. He had so many other things on his mind.

/break\

It took months of intense physical therapy for Noah to be able to walk without a cane anymore. The first time he rounded the house without the aid, Stiles had thrown him a party. Peter thought it was adorable, the joy Stiles radiated nowadays. It was good to have Noah in the house, it felt like… like he belonged there, with the family. And the family could help him in his recovery.

Not just his physical recovery. Laura kept him updated on the station, brought many of the deputies by regularly. Seeing familiar faces helped Noah too. And then there was all the time missed. Family pictures and videos of all the big events in Stiles’ life. Danny took it upon himself to teach Noah about new technology and how the internet worked nowadays (Malia teased him about ‘sucking up to his future father-in-law’, flustering both Danny and Stiles). The family had movie nights with all the important movies Noah had missed, according to Stiles. The adults in the family took it upon themselves to keep Noah up to date on other important issues in the world that he had missed.

Things were going well. Really well. So why couldn’t Peter fight the tight feeling in his chest…?

“Look at me, free hands,” Noah grinned as he walked over to Peter to sit with him.

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Peter offered a thin-lipped smile.

Noah regarded him for a long moment, as though he was trying to figure something out. Peter looked away. Stiles was out tonight, at the jungle with Danny. Date night. For the first time since Peter had moved in with Stiles did he get to see the boy truly carefree and happy. No longer burdened with the worries about his father. Peter swallowed hard.

“In large parts thanks to you,” Noah reached out to take Peter’s hand. “I can’t thank you enough for all you have done for me and for Stiles.”

Peter swallowed hard and gave a short nod. Noah gave his hand a gentle squeeze. It had Peter’s heart skip a beat. Ever since he had moved into the Hale House, Noah was being very friendly to Peter. Gratitude, for what Peter had done for Stiles.

“Peter,” Noah sighed. “Look at me, please. You’ve been getting more and more… dodgy lately.”

“I just… want to give you and Stiles your space. You missed a lot of time with each other,” Peter replied. “I’m sure now that you’re feeling better, you’ll be looking for a place to stay.”

“This is Stiles’ home, all of you have become his family. I don’t want to tear him away from that,” Noah hesitated. “I heard that it took him a long time to give up the house, I don’t want him to feel like he did something wrong. And… I gotta admit, I do still need the help. I’m already exhausted again. It’ll be a while longer until I’m really up for running a household myself, much less on my own. I talked to your sister and she said that I’m more than welcome to stay as long as I need, or want to. I think that… Stiles is sixteen – Stiles is sixteen. He’s going to go to college in just two years, who knows maybe it’ll be best if we stay until then. Let’s wait and see.”

Peter felt himself relaxing some at that, giving a minute nod. The knowledge that both Stiles and Noah would stay with them was a relief. When Noah squeezed his hand again, Peter looked at him. There was a soft smile on Noah’s lips as he regarded the wolf, causing Peter’s breath to hitch.

“I don’t remember everything,” Noah started. “But bits and pieces of conversations. I remember you sitting by my bedside, talking to me. You got quite sappy at times, you know. Thank you, for everything you have done for me and for Stiles. I… I can’t promise you true love or a happily ever after, Peter. But I’ve always liked you and in these past months of living here, I came to like the man you became and… and seeing you with Stiles makes me feel all kinds of warm. You became a father figure to my son and I’m…”

Noah paused, regarding Peter gently. “I just lost six years of my life, and before that, I already lost my wife. I know how fragile life is and not to let something good go to waste. I’d like to see if you and I could be something good, Peter. If that’s… If that’s enough for you.”

Peter turned to look at him wide-eyed in surprise. “What. Are you serious?”

“You’re a gorgeous man, Peter Hale,” Noah huffed amused, smiling at him. “And you are as sarcastic, wicked and horrible in the best ways as Claudia was. You two made it hard on me back then, until you… pulled away. I know you did it to give me and Claudia a chance. But now Claudia is… is gone, and we are still here and… I’d like to give us a chance, if you’ll have me.”

Before he could try to make his case did Peter grasp him by the neck and pulled him into a kiss that was desperate and sweet at the same time. Noah may have lost six years, but he was damn determined to lose nothing else. Not his son, not his second shot at happiness. He was going to make the best of this second chance life had given him.

~*~ The End ~*~