Chapter Text
“There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.”
- George Carlin
If you saw Stiles at the grocery store shopping for food and cleaning products, it was not a big deal. He has always done the shopping since his mom passed; it was just his thing, being that his father is the sheriff of Beacon Hills. But if you saw him with a cart full of canned food and stacks of meat, you would wonder what the hell he was doing.
Stiles grabbed the last two cans of beans from the shelf before making his way to the checkout lane. The wheel squeaked nosily. He gave the cashier a nod, ignoring the strange look the cashier gave him. “Family outing or something?” she smiled.
“Or something.” He answered and waited patiently as the cashier ran the items through the register. A stock boy had to be called to pack the stuff into cardboard boxes before the cans piled up like a mountain.
It took about ten minutes before the last item was scanned, when the boy with curly brown hair ran up from behind him and placed a bag of chips and a can of pop down. Stiles glared at the boy, who only smiled. “What? I’m starving. Derek made us run the whole morning, and I haven’t had anything to eat since I woke up.”
The boy, Isaac, scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue as if he were not a seventeen-year-old boy who was turning eighteen next week.
“This too?” the cashier asked, and Stiles nodded.
Stiles took out a shiny new visa from his wallet and paid for the groceries. Finally out of the store, Isaac and Stiles wheeled out two carts full of bags and walked to the Camaro. The ride back was quiet, aside from my Isaac’s chewing and obnoxious gulping, but what can you say? Stiles deals with stuff like this on a daily basis.
“Guys!” Stiles called out as he stepped out of the car, knowing that the werewolves could hear him perfectly. He sighed tiredly as Scott came out of the house first, followed quickly by the rest of the pack.
Stiles knew they could do it in one trip, so he made his way to the newly rebuilt house. He kicked off his shoes, the smell of paint still fresh, and dropped onto the couch. He rubbed at his eyes until he saw spots and enjoyed the peace and quiet while the pack was busy outside.
The floor board creaked ever so slightly beside him. He yelped loudly when he opened his eyes to see Derek standing above him, sporting his usual frown and glare. Stiles almost commented about his poor stealth skills, but figured the floor creak was Derek's way of telling him he was next to him. “Oh my god, Derek! Don’t do that.”
Stiles grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and took out the visa, handing it over to him. “You bought a lot of stuff,” Derek remarked softly.
“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have gone overboard, but the pups eat so much and - ”
“It’ll be gone by the end of the week. You should have bought more.”
Stiles raised his brows. “Noted.”
Derek’s mouth did a strange thing in what Stiles liked to think was a smile. Stiles only knew two looks Derek had since the first day they met, the ‘you-annoy-me-get-out-of-my-face’ look and the ‘I’ll-rip-your-throat-out-with-my-teeth’ look. But lately, Stiles was honoured with a small twitch of the mouth, and Stiles couldn’t complain.
The pack charged in with four bags in each hand and disappeared into the kitchen. The noise made Stiles flinch, and Derek sighed heavily before they decided to follow the pups. They helped unpack and stock the cabinets, and Stiles was thankful that Derek had ensured the blueprints included a massive kitchen. Each room in the house was massive. It didn’t feel crowded like it did at Derek’s old apartment, and Stiles could not help but wonder how much money the Hale family has, despite knowing he would probably never ask.
Finally, the commotion calmed. He was boiling water as they all sat around the kitchen, enjoying their hot cup of tea. Scott was talking about lacrosse to the guys, and Erica was talking about a major shopping spree she and the girls should have. Stiles stood by the sink, pouring milk into his tea while listening in. He felt warmth against his back and looked back to find Erica leaning on him. She sighed in contempt, and he did not say anything or bother to move away from her.
-
Stiles noticed it after the Alpha pack was killed. Except Ethan and Aiden, because they made the right choice to join Derek’s pack, and Derek accepted them without any hesitation. After the fight, the wounded were taken to Deaton to aid their healing, and Stiles followed along, not because he was the only one who could help Deaton, but because he had come to the conclusion before the fight that he genuinely cared for all of them.
The pack nearly lost Erica and Boyd when they decided to leave Derek, but he convinced them to stay, and he could not honestly imagine what it would be like if they left. What the pack would be like if they left.
He was busy fixing the bandages on Isaac when he noticed it; Isaac leaned into his touch and whimpered when he pulled away. He was anxious when he left the room, but calmed at the sight of him. It wasn’t just him, either; it was the others. Scott was practically attached to his hip the whole time. He had known Scott since grade school, and he never acted like this around him.
It toned down when they healed, but there was the reaching for his hand, the hugging, and the nuzzling of the neck. It freaked him out. He confronted Scott a week later, and Scott told him he didn’t know what he was talking about. He tried to ask the others, but they brushed it off, saying they do it to each other all the time, why was it any different doing it to ‘mom’, they joked.
‘Mom’? Stiles wasn’t sure where that nickname came from, and he would cringe every time they called him that. He eventually got them to forget that word in their vocabulary before they went back to calling him by his preferred name.
-
“Stiles?” He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at the source of the voice.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been talking to you this whole time. Where are you right now?” Lydia poked him on the forehead.
“I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Stuff.”
“Oh, alright.” She rolled her eyes and patted him on the cheek. “I’ll leave you alone with your thoughts.”
She smiled, shaking her head before sitting down with the other girls. “Stiles?”
Isaac stood beside him, hands cupped around his cup of tea. “Yes, my pup?”
Isaac’s cheek turned a slight shade of pink, and he acted as if he hadn’t acknowledged the nickname. “I think I need help with some school stuff, if that's okay, just something I'm stuck on.”
“Of course. After supper, okay?”
Isaac smiled and nodded before leaving the kitchen. Stiles looked over to the clock and decided to start cooking. If he doesn’t, he’ll hear “Is dinner ready yet?” until he does. He walked into the small room, filled with shelves stocked with food, and stood there for a minute before deciding what to cook. “Alright, out.” He said it out loud, and no one needed to be told twice.
-
“Oh my god, I always love your food, Stiles, but this is one of the best.” Scott moaned as he held his stomach. Stiles grabbed his plate from the counter and sat down with the others, who were already finished with their plates.
“Yeah, Stiles, this is awesome.” Isaac said, taking his last bite.
The pack stayed where they were and talked among themselves as Stiles ate his food. Even after Stiles was finished, they still sat around the table. They did this since they had their first dinner together. They would all sit together, and sometimes it would be a pack meeting, talking about how their days went and even when one of them wanted to vent, or had a bad day.
Though even if some of them did not want to admit it, they were all just glad they were here. They had been through so much.
-
The next day, Stiles woke up with a headache.
It was Saturday, and normally he wouldn’t get up before twelve. But he had to pick up his textbook from school for the assignment Ms. Greene extended until Monday because he completely forgot it was due on Friday.
He could not believe he was so behind on assignments, and the test he had on Monday would not look good on his semester grade. A couple of months have passed since the Alpha and Jennifer thing happened, but his grades were still terrible, so he was at risk of repeating the year. His dad made him promise to focus on schoolwork, but the pack often needed his help.
He quickly dressed and ran down the stairs. I’ll eat when I come back, he thought before grabbing his keys from the table and heading to the door. Just as he touched the knob, the door opened, and his father came in.
“Stiles, where are you going on a weekend when you should be studying?”
“Have to pick something up at the school, and the faster I get it done, the faster I can finish the stuff I have to do at Derek’s.”
“Alright, but I want you home early. You came home late last night.”
“You weren’t here - ”
Stiles stopped, and the Sheriff gave him the look. He was caught. “Look, it’s nice you spend time with your friends, and you're helping Derek with his house, but I, at least, want you home at a decent time.”
“We were watching a movie, and I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, but from now on, home before ten, alright?”
“Alright.” The Sheriff pulled him by the back of his neck and kissed him on the forehead. “I’ll be asleep all day. I had an extra shift with this case.”
“Okay, I’ll cook supper.”
-
Now at school, Stiles was finally inside the building after spending ten minutes knocking on the front doors before the janitor finally came. He headed to his locker and grabbed his textbook. Just as he closed the door to his locker, his phone rang. “Hello?” He answered.
“Stiles?”
“Yeah, what is it?” The person sounded out of breath. He looked down at the name, and it said caller unknown. The person didn’t answer, but Stiles could hear them breathing heavily on the other end of the line. “C’mon, man, I don’t have time for this. If this is some weird stalker thing that you’re pulling, the heavy breathing and the unknown caller thing is my least favourite kink.”
“Stiles?”
“Yes, this is he. What is it?”
“Stiles?”
“Dude, look, I’m flattered, but I’m kind of busy right now, and I’m just getting really impatient here.”
“Stiles?” the person said again.
“I’m hanging up.”
Stiles pressed the end button and pocketed his phone. He headed back to his truck, thanking the janitor before leaving the building, and drove home. His phone rang again. “Dude, get over it. I’m not going to participate in this sick game you’re playing at.”
“What?” He recognized the voice.
“Oh, hey Scott, what’s up?”
“What was that about?”
“Oh - nothing.” Stiles stammered.
“Really, ‘cause that didn’t sound like nothing.”
“Some guy called earlier and probably has a fetish for scared prey.”
It was quiet for a moment before Scott answered. “What kind of people do you know?”
“I was going to say he had the wrong number, but he said my name, and it showed no name on the caller ID. So, I have no idea who it was, but it definitely seemed like he knew me.”
“Well, anyways, I called to say Derek wants us over at Deaton’s in an hour," Stiles stared at his textbook. He knew he would not be able to finish his homework or anything else tonight. "He felt it before all of us, something is near.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it feels bad. Where’s your dad?”
“Home, sleeping, I hope. He took an extra shift.”
“Okay, tell him not to leave the house until we know what it is.”
“Alright.” Stiles entered his home and found his dad sitting at the table, back faced to him. “Alright, I’ll be there soon.”
He closed his phone and sighed. “I’m going to head out again. I just wanted to drop this off. I’ll be back later.”
“Before ten, Stiles.”
“I know.”