Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Generations

Part One

            As a child, Stiles Stilinski had long lamented that nothing ever happened in Beacon Hills.  Considering that it had long been something of a hub for paranormal creatures, one would think it would be a very exciting place to live.  But due to the fierce protectiveness of the Hale family and the almost universal reluctance to annoy a witching family as magically powerful as the Stilinski’s, no one ever dared to cause any kind of actual problems in the territory.  When he took his father’s place as Sheriff of the town, the biggest problem Stiles ever had to deal with was bored teenagers shoplifting and impatient commuters speeding.

            The group of anxious looking teenagers in front of him was nothing new, and though Stiles actually wanted to laugh at their antics, he somehow managed to deliver his lecture on why it wasn’t okay to toilet paper someone’s house with a mostly straight face.

            “But Sheriff,” one of the older kids objected, “Mr. Harris is such a jerk!!  He hates everyone and his class is hell.  And he’s been even worse than usual this week, like on the verge of a total meltdown.  Today he gave Jackie a detention for breathing too loudly!”

            Stiles failed to fully clamp down on his grin at that, although that did sound a little extreme even for Harris, “Yeah, I know.  I was in his class when I was in high school.  But come on,” he held up a roll of toilet paper.  “This was the best thing you could think of?  Seriously?  At least be creative.”

            “Does this mean you aren’t going to tell him it was us?” One of the teenagers asked hopefully.

            Stiles tapped his chin thoughtfully, “Well…Tell you what…you get all this cleaned up before he gets home and promise to volunteer at the May Festival and we’ll have a deal.”

            He lingered long enough to watch them begin to clean up the mess of toilet paper before heading back to his cruiser.  Hopefully they’d get it done before Harris finished his Sunday morning walk and visit to the local diner because Stiles really wasn’t in the mood to deal with his surliness.  He’d been out of high school for ten years and took his father’s place as Sheriff four years ago and the man still treated him like he was a tardy high school student.  Stiles paused when his phone vibrated in his pocket and answered it after two rings without bothering to check the caller as he turned on his car.

            “Sheriff speaking.”

            It was weird for him to refer to himself as the Sheriff.  Half the time when anyone called him that he thought they were referring to his father, but he was very young for the position and even though Beacon Hills was far from a crime metropolis he was doing his best to be professional.  His father had been beloved as Sheriff before he had retired and Stiles hated to disappoint him or the town he’d grown up in.

            No one spoke for a moment, but there was a noise that almost sounded like someone panting for breath that had Stiles immediately concerned.  “Hello?  This is Sheriff.  Who is this?”

            “Sheriff,” the unfamiliar voice of an obviously frightened child whispered.

            Stiles glanced at the screen of the phone briefly, frowning when he saw the call had come from the Alpha of the Hale pack, Talia Hale’s, cell phone.

            “Yes,” he said gently.  “Can you tell me your name?”

            “Cece Hale,” she whispered, identifying herself as the youngest of Talia Hale’s children.  If he recalled correctly, she was nearly six years old and to the surprise of everyone in the Pack had been born human.

            “Where are you, Cece?”

            “At home,” she whispered.

            “Are you hurt?” he asked.

            “I’m hiding,” she whispered.  “Mama gave me her cell phone and said to call for help because the man did something to the phone.”

            “Okay,” Stiles said, intentionally keeping his voice calm as pulled away from the curb.  “Can you tell me what happened?”

            He put his hand over the phone and lifted his radio.  “This is the Sheriff.  Send a patrol car over the Hale house immediately for a possible 10-31 in progress.” 

            “10-4,” came the almost immediately reply from dispatch. 

            Cece coughed quietly before beginning to speak again.  “There was a funny smell.  I couldn’t smell it at first, but when I could I didn’t like it.”

            “What kind of smell?”

            “Like the gas station.  But also kind of like when Daddy forgets to flip a grilled cheese sandwich.”

            Stiles took the next right, turning onto one of the back roads that was a short cut towards the preserve, as he turned on the lights but not the siren.  “Cece, is the house on fire?”

            “Yes,” her voice trembled and she sniffled quietly

            “Okay, I need you to get out of the house.  Can you do that?”

            Stiles again covered the mouthpiece of his phone and lifted his radio, briefly using his elbow to steer the car.  He was about to speak into the radio when it crackled.  “Sheriff, be advised that we’ve received a 911 call for a 10-70 at the Hale residence.  All available units are responding.  ETA is two minutes.”

            “10-4.  I’m on my way.  ETA six minutes.”  Stiles lifted his hand away from the mouthpiece of his cell phone, “Cece?  Are you outside of the house?”

            She coughed again, “I can’t.  There’s Ash.”

            “Cece, you’re human,” Stiles said.  “You can cross the line.  Help is coming for everyone else, but you need to leave now.”

            “I can’t,” she repeated, “Mama tried take us that can cross it, but there was a man outside with a gun,” her voice broke briefly, “He tired to hurt Papa, but Uncle Peter got in the way.  None of us can get out of the house.”

            “He’s at the front door?”

            “Yes.”

            “Can you go out the back door, Cece?”  Stiles lifted his radio while he waited for her reply.  “This is the Sheriff.  Warn all first responders that there is a 10-32 at the Hale House.”

            “10-4,” dispatch replied.

            “No,” Cece replied.  “There is too much fire and smoke there.”

            “Cece, help is coming.  Stay away from the windows and keep low to the ground, okay?”

            “I’m hiding under Mama’s desk in the library.  I can hear the sirens,” she admitted after a moment.  “Is that you?  Are you gonna help?”

            “I’m right behind them,” Stiles promised.  “Is anyone else with you?”

            “My brother Derek, but he’s trying to help Uncle Peter cause he’s bleeding a lot.  Everyone else is trying to put out the fire.  Mama told me to stay here.”

            Stiles turned up the road the preserve and tried to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach, “Do you know how to put the phone on speaker?”

            “Hold on,” there was a briefly moment of silence.  “Okay.”

            “Derek?” Stiles raised his voice a little, “Can you hear me?”

            “I hear you, Sheriff,” Derek replied, audible but obviously not directly beside the phone.

            The sound of his voice, tight and anxious, had Stiles driving as fast as he dared on the dirt road.  “Help is on the way. How’s Peter?”

            “He’s been shot three times with Wolfsbane bullets,” Derek said frankly. 

            “How close is the poison to his heart?” Stiles asked.

            “Close,” Derek replied.

            “Can you tell me how many people are in the house?”

            Derek hesitated briefly as he took a moment to count the heartbeats, “Fifteen.  Most of my family is here right now.”

            Stiles pulled into the driveway and up onto the lawn, out of the way of the fire and ambulance vehicles.  He took a moment to stare at the alarming blaze.  “Okay, I’m here.  The firefighters are trying to put out the blaze-”

            “STILES!”  Stiles quieted, and sprinted forward at the shout, nearly slamming into his best friend as he came around one of the fire trucks.  “Stiles the gunman has been subdued, but we can’t break the Mountain Ash line.”

            “What?” Stiles demanded.

            “Oh god,” Derek’s voice was audible from his phone.  “The gunman is down?”

            “Yeah.  You need to have the human members of your family evacuate.  I’ll work on the Ash line.” Stiles replied quickly before turning his attention to Scott, already knowing whatever he said was going to be bad by the consistent glowing of his eyes, “Tell me.”

            “The fire is out of control,” Scott said in a rush, “a combination of magic and an accelerant.  We can’t stop it.  And there is some kind of ward before the Ash line.  No one can reach it to break it.”

            Stiles went with Scott up to the front porch, ignoring the sting in his eyes from the smoke, but found he wasn’t able to get close enough to the Ash line to even examine it, let alone break it.  The force of the ward was like a wall and short of finding the creator; he had no idea how to destroy it.  The sound of the flame covered front door being kicked down caught his attention and Derek Hale ran through the fire, his arms curled around to protect someone much smaller.  Half a step behind him was a young woman and judging by the way she effortlessly carried Peter Hale, she too was a werewolf.  Derek was covered in ash and already healing burns, his clothing torn and the sight of it made Stiles feel a little wild with rage.  Derek stopped at the bottom step, held back by the Ash line, but dropped his younger sister and gave her a small push.

            “Try to cross, Cece.”

            The little girl crossed the line unhindered with a single step and Stiles lifted her easily, handing her to a nearby paramedic.  Cece screamed as the paramedic took her away from the house and Derek howled, half shifting in response to his sister’s fear.  More Hales appeared and those that were human were sent across the line, until only werewolves were left, with the exception of the Alpha mate.  Adam Hale stood beside his wife at the back of the line, though his gaze was on the scene his youngest daughter was causing as she screamed for her parents and fought against the paramedics.

            “Go, Adam,” Talia instructed, barely audible over the sound of the fire.

            “I’m not leaving you,” he insisted.

            “We made a deal a long time ago.” 

             Adam turned and pulled Talia into his arms, his hands buried in her dark hair as he did his best to wrap himself around her.  The embrace broke only when he began to cough and Talia maneuvered him to the edge of the Mountain Ash.  “Go.”

            “Talia…” He kissed her face, hesitating for a moment.  It happened so fast that Stiles didn’t actually realize what had occurred until Adam was already across the Mountain Ash line.  Derek had come up behind his father while he embraced his mother, took hold of him the moment the kiss ended and shoved him across the line with a strength that nearly sent him to his knees.

            Adam was still for a moment, stunned, when his gaze landed on his son, “Derek?”

            At Stiles’ signal, a pair of paramedics approached Adam.  He was poised to fight them, but stilled when Talia spoke.  “You made me a promise when Cecilia was born, Adam.”

            Adam swallowed thickly, but nodded.  “I remember.”

            The girl carrying Peter collapsed abruptly, falling to her knees and barely managing to keep the older wolf from hitting the ground.  Derek was at her side in a second, taking his Uncle away from her and passing him to another wolf.  “Cora…” 

           Talia joined him at the Cora’s side and held her hand as she coughed with such force that her entire body shook.  The house and all the area behind the ward were thick with ash to the point that the house was barely visible behind the Hales.  Talia stared at her husband unblinkingly as she held the girl’s hand, her eyes red, for a long moment before she turned her attention to Stiles.  “Sheriff, don’t let him watch this.  Don’t let him watch us suffocate.”

           It took four paramedics to drag Adam away, but Stiles attention was glued on the Hale werewolves as they huddled together as close to the Mountain Ash line as they could get.  There were more than a few members of their pack among the first responders and the sound of them howling in grief made Stiles feel sick.  Scott stood as his side, half shifted, though his rage and grief was quieter.

            Feeling his magic surge, Stiles dropped to his knees and pressed his fingers up against the edge of the ward as those that could leave evacuated the burning building.  He didn’t pause long enough to think through what he was doing; worried that second guessing himself would lessen his sudden insight.  He punched a small hole in it by wiggling his fingers, ignoring the burning sensation that started at the tips of his fingers and spread up past his wrist.  He pushed his hand into the Mountain Ash, biting back a scream as the pain worsened, and brushed enough of the Mountain Ash aside to let the rest of the Hale’s escape.

            He’d given up the fight not to scream when Scott grabbed him by his ankles and pulled him away from the ward.  The hole he’d created wasn’t particularly large and the Hale’s could only go through one at a time.  Whimpering, Stiles curled up around his injured hand and fought to breathe evenly.  Talia sent the youngest first and came out last herself, still carrying her brother and covered in horrible burns that were already beginning to heal.  She paused long enough to send Derek away from where he was staring in surprise at the Sheriff to ensure Peter was receiving medical attention before turning her attention to Stiles.  She lifted him to his feet with one hand, her attention lingering on the burn on his arm briefly.

            “Thank you, Sheriff.”

            He nodded, unable to speak.  Talia tightened her grip around his elbow briefly and Stiles watched as the veins in her hands blackened for a moment as she took his pain.

            “Alpha Hale-”

            She pulled him closer and Stiles allowed it as she brushed her cheek against his.  “Our families have never been enemies, but after today I would count you as an ally.”  Except her actions already acted as though he was more than an ally.  She took his pain away and touched him as though he was a member of her Pack.  It was a declaration, and a strong one, that the entire Hale Pack would respect and protect him as though he was one of their own.  And Stiles had no idea how to respond to that.

            Stiles exhaled slowly, deeply overwhelmed.  The Hale’s and the Stilinski’s had always been friendly, but more united in a common love of Beacon Hills than any emotional connection to each other.  “I’m honored,” Stiles whispered.

            She released him after a moment, “I must go to the hospital.  I’ll hear from you soon?”

            Stiles nodded, “Yes.”

            Her expression was one that contained more approval than pleasure, but she nodded and left after a final touch to his arm, joining her husband and daughter in one of the ambulances.  Stiles took a moment to steady himself before moving away from the still burning house and joining Scott.

            “Well?”

            Scott sighed, his fangs and claws receding, “We can’t do anything for the house.  We’re going to shield everything around it and wait for the fire to die on its own.  Stiles,” he glanced at his arm briefly, “You need to see a Doctor.”

            “It doesn’t hurt,” Stiles objected.

            “Because the Alpha took your pain away,” Scott said tensely, “And we really need to talk about what that means.  But it isn’t healed.”

            Stiles waved away his concern, “Later.  I need to look for evidence while its still fresh.”

            Though they hadn’t done much of a job hiding that the fire was arson, the culprits had at least put some seriously effort into leaving behind as little evidence as possible as to their identities.  The gunman had run the moment the police had arrived, and though they’d caught him easily he’d refused to say anything.  Stiles’ deputies were quick to report that his silence was magically compelled.  Even if he wanted to betray his co-conspirators, it was impossible.  It was obvious that he was nothing more than a hired thug and any information he had would likely be of limited use.  But in the end, they didn’t need him to speak to learn who was responsible. 

            Stiles took a moment to consider his options.  They needed answers immediately about who was responsible for this attack.  He lifted his uninjured hand towards the Hale house and allowed the magic to flow through him as he focused on his question. It wasn’t a branch of magic he was particularly skilled at, but it was powerful and if he could focus on his question intensely enough the chance of finding compelling evidence was high.

            One of his deputies approached him, but when Stiles opened unseeing eyes covered with a milky white film, she backed away quickly without disrupting him.  There was anger in the smoke and heat lingering around the still burning house, the anger and fear of the Hale’s, the shock and fear of the personnel who had responded, but there was something else lingering that caught his attention.  At first he thought it was residual anger from the gunman, but it was thicker and distinct and decidedly female.  Stiles felt himself urged to move forward and forced aside the panic and let his magic guide him, because he couldn’t see where he was going.  He walked for perhaps twenty minutes and when he opened his eyes and his sight was once again clear, he saw that he was on one of the lesser-used paths in the preserve about half a mile from the Hale house.

            Glancing over his shoulder, Stiles could still see the smoke rising from the Hale house.  A glint of something in the sunlight caught his attention and Stiles noticed a necklace with stylized wolf on it.  His magic settled when he lifted it off the tree branch it was caught on and his first thought as he stared at the necklace was to wonder if it had been placed there on purpose.  As he studied the wolf he realized that it was familiar, recalled exactly where he had seen the image and felt something harden in his stomach.

            Unless his memory was misleading him, this had to be resolved as fast as possible.  The last thing he wanted was for a blood feud to erupt in the territory. 

            Once the fire had mostly burned itself out, Stiles left his deputies to secure the scene and went to the hospital.  He found Derek sitting alone in the waiting room, curled up in a chair in the corner.  He lifted his head from his arms as Stiles approached and his eyes flashed blue briefly, but he calmed when he saw who it was.

            “Sheriff.”

            “Is the Alpha here?”

            Derek studied him briefly before nodding, “She’s with my Uncle.  I’m supposed to wait here in case you or anyone from the Sheriff’s office comes with news.”  He rose slowly, “Do you have news?”

            Stiles met his gaze evenly and considered his words for a moment, because he knew better than to try to lie to a werewolf, but it was too soon to present his evidence as anything conclusive.  The situation needed to be handled delicately so it didn’t spiral out of control.  “Nothing concrete.”

            Derek took a step closer, “What is it?” 

            “A possible lead, but I haven’t yet laid charges,” Stiles replied.

            Derek moved even closer, until there was barely any space between them.  “Can I help?”

            “Not at this moment, but…” he hesitated briefly, “How’s your Uncle?”

            “Not good, but they think he’ll recover.”  Derek cupped his shoulders, the tips of his fingers curling into Stiles uniform in a movement that made the Sheriff’s eyes widen, “Everyone is going to live because of you.”

            Stiles did his best to control his heart rate, but knew by the expression on Derek’s face that he had utterly failed.  “I’m glad to hear that.”  He was desperate for a chance of topic and suddenly realized that he hadn’t seen the Alpha heir, “I’ll need to see Laura as soon as possible.”

            Derek tilted his head, “Laura?”

            “I’m assuming that she’ll be the Alpha’s second until Peter is fully recovered?”

            “Laura isn’t here,” Derek replied, as though the thought had only just occurred to him.  “She’s out of town.  I- I should call her.”

            “Then I should speak with your father?”

            Derek shook his head again, “He inhaled a lot of smoke.  They have him on a respirator.  Same with Cece,” Derek was quiet briefly.  “She wasn’t as scared when she was talking to you.  If we had died… I wouldn’t have wanted her last moments to be spent in fear.”

            “I’m glad I could help.”  Stiles was quiet briefly.  The Alpha’s second and heir were both unavailable and the Alpha mate had been injured.  “If no one else is available, perhaps I should speak with the Alpha directly when she can spare a moment?”

            Derek hesitated, “She’s trying to help heal my Uncle Peter.  The poison got really close to his heart and his healing ability isn’t kicking in like it should.”

            “I’m really going to need to talk to someone who can speak for the Hale’s.”

            “Someone other than me?” Derek asked, avoiding his gaze briefly.

            “You?” Stiles repeated.

            Derek shrugged, “It’s why I’m here.  But perhaps I could go and get-”

            “No,” Stiles said in a rush, “No, that’s fine.  I didn’t realize.  I have a lead, but before I go any further I need to know how you want this handled.  Justice, arbitration or mediation?”

            Derek’s eyes flashed blue and his face twisted with anger, but he didn’t shift.  “And if we want vengeance?”

            “I’m fairly convinced this was an attack on either your family or your pack, so you have that right.  However, I must absent myself from the process.  I will not interfere unless the Law is violated, but I cannot condone or participate,” Stiles replied formally. 

            Derek was quiet, the glow fading from his eyes in surprise, “You would do that?”

            “It’s not my choice,” Stiles replied, well aware that the formal response he was required to give had sounded somewhat callous, “I am bound by my Oath as Sheriff.  I cannot break that, no matter how heinous the crime.”

            “You think vengeance is the wrong decision?”

            “I cannot counsel you on pack matters,” Stiles replied.

            Derek tilted his head, “Of course you can.  The Alpha-”

            “Whatever she did, it was during an emotionally stressful time and I won’t hold you to an alliance that may not be beneficial to you.  Our families have never been friends, Derek.”

            “That isn’t true,” Derek jumped in.  “We were friends before your Grandfather…”

            “Before my Grandfather what?”

            “Forget it,” Derek mumbled.

            Stiles narrowed his eyes, but let it drop.  “Regardless, I don’t know the pack well enough to fairly advise which route is best for you to take.  I would shy away from Vengeance only because it can lead to Blood Feuds and those often destroy entire families.  Justice can be slow and the use of magic is limited in certain criminal proceedings.  I often counsel people towards Mediation, because it takes into account the needs of all parties…but we’ve never had anything like this happen here before.”

            Derek’s expression was stony, but he nodded slowly.  “Arbitration then.”

            “I’ll find you an arbiter.”

            “No.  You do it.”

            “I’m not sure that’s appropriate,” Stiles cautioned.  “I don’t have the experience-”

            “The Office of the Sheriff is a traditional choice for Arbiter.  You’ve done it before since you become Sheriff.”

            “Sure,” Stiles admitted, “But not on a case like this.  And the other party has say in naming an arbiter.”

            “So you know who they are?”

            Stiles shook his head, “I said I had a lead.  I don’t know anything for sure yet.  The point is, I’m probably not the best choice for arbiter.”

            Derek shrugged, “Well, you’re still my first choice.  If you refuse-”

            Stiles held up his hand, “Fine.  Okay.  Damn it.  I have to go.”

            “Go where?”

            Stiles ignored the question, “Before I go, I’d like to check in on Cece.  Is that okay?”

            A small, surprised smile spread across his features.  “Of course it is.  You don’t need to ask.  I’ll take you to her.”

            Cece was curled up in the center of her bed, her eyes open but unfocused.  Cora was in the room with her, breathing as though she hadn’t been moments away from suffocation earlier.  She moved back to speak quietly with Derek when Stiles approached Cece.  She pulled the mask off her mouth when she caught sight of Stiles.

            “Sheriff.”

            “Keep that on, kiddo,” Stiles said gently.  “How are you feeling?”

            “Fine,” she mumbled, resettling the mask over her face.  “The Doctor said I breathed in too much smoke so I need to stay here, but I can probably go home tomorrow.”  Her face crumpled, “But the house is gone, isn’t it?”

            Stiles took her hand, “I’m sorry, Cece, the house was destroyed.”

            She closed her eyes for a moment, “Oh.”

            “Hey,” Stiles said gently, “You were really brave.  You did great.”

            “Mama said you would come even though you don’t like us.  She said you’d help.”

            “I’m the Sheriff,” Stiles said gently.  “I’ll always come if you need help.”  He frowned to himself briefly, “And I like you fine, Cece.”

            “Everyone says you don’t like us,” Cece whispered.

            “Everyone is wrong,” Stiles promised.  “I don’t know your family very well, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you.  Your mother is a good Alpha and your family cares about this territory.”

            Cece nodded slowly, “I’ll tell her, okay?  I’ll tell Mama that everyone is wrong.  Did you change your mind about Derek?”

            Before Stiles could ask for an explanation, Derek was suddenly standing beside him and staring down at his little sister with a tight expression.  “Cecilia.”

            “Sorry,” she whispered.

            Derek stroked her hair, “Rest, okay?  Cora is going to stay with you.  Mom will come visit you in a bit.”

            Cece nodded as Derek bent down to kiss her cheek.

            Stiles smiled at her before following Derek from the room. It wasn’t until he was nearly out of the hospital that he realized that Derek had followed and was only a few steps behind him.  Stiles paused a few feet away from his patrol cruiser, keys in his hand, and stared at Derek in faint surprise.  “Where are you going?”

            “I’m going with you,” he replied, as though the question itself came as a surprise.

            “Why?”

            “The Alpha instructed me to assist you,” he said simply.

            Stiles was quiet for a long moment, searching for a tactful way to tell him that his assistance wasn’t needed because his earnestness was making it difficult for Stiles to speak.  Even though he was an adult and the Sheriff of the territory, he was as tongue tied around the werewolf as he had been as a teenager. “I appreciate her…thoughtfulness,” he managed, “But you can’t follow me around.”

            His expression turned faintly sulky, “I wouldn’t get in your way, Sheriff.”

            Stiles sighed, “Derek, why don’t you stay here?”  The weight of the necklace suddenly felt heavy in his pocket and Stiles resisted the urge to touch it.  “I need to follow up on a lead and I can’t do that if you’re with me.”

            “But I-”

            “Do you trust me?”

            The sulkiness vanished instantly, “Yes, Sheriff.”

            “Then let me handle this.  I have a lead.  If I find the arsonist, I’ll propose arbitration on your behalf.”  Stiles held up his hand before Derek could interrupt.  “Surely you see that you can’t come with me for that, Derek.”

            Derek’s expression wavered, “Don’t go alone.”

            “Derek-”

            “Take McCall.”

            Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “If I take Scott, I might as well just take you.  He might not be a Hale, but he’s part of your pack.  I’m not taking any werewolves with me.”

            “It might not be safe,” Derek insisted.

            “Derek-”

            “Hear me out,” Derek said, the concern in his face giving way to stubbornness.  “Its possible that this was just an attack on my family or the pack as you said, but what if it isn’t?”

            Stiles tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

            “What if it’s an attack on the territory?  We may not be down,” Derek said, “But we’re at least temporarily out for the count.  That leaves your family to guard Beacon Hills.”

            Stiles stiffened, “And you find us inadequate to that task?  We might not be werewolves, Derek,” he said coolly, but still calmly.  The urge to yell at the other man was strong, but the weight of the badge and his Oath as Sheriff prevented him from letting his personal feelings control the conversation.  “But we are witches and we’ve held the office of Sheriff for almost two hundred years.”

            “I didn’t mean it like that,” Derek spoke quietly when Stiles had finished.  “I just meant you shouldn’t go alone.  I don’t want to see you get hurt.  If this is an attack on the territory, neutralizing you is going to be their next step.”

            “I can take care of myself.  I don’t need your help, Derek.  I’m fine on my own.”

            “Believe me,” Derek said, a hint of bitterness entering his tone as he spoke without meeting Stiles gaze, “That was been made very clear to me, Sheriff.  I’m not at all ignorant of the power of your family.”

            Stiles was still for a moment, “What are you talking about?”

            “You know what I’m talking about.”

            Stiles shook his head, “I really don’t.  You’re hinting at something that has nothing to do with this conversation and I really don’t know what you’re trying to say.  But I wouldn’t at all object to you explaining it to me.” 

            All the energy seemed to leave Derek at once and his shoulders dropped.  “I have to go.”

            “What?  But-”

            “The Alpha isn’t impressed by my bickering with the Sheriff in the parking lot of the hospital.”

            “She can hear us?”

            Derek nodded.  “Think about what I said,” he requested as he backed away.

            Stiles remained still until Derek had disappeared back into the hospital.  Once Derek was gone, Stiles climbed into the cruiser and called his father as he drove.

            “Hello?”

            “Hey, dad.”

            “Hi, kid,” Joe Stilinski replied.  “Heard a lot of sirens earlier.  Everything okay?”

            “Someone torched the Hale house,” Stiles said bluntly.  “There was Mountain Ash and a magical barrier ward and a gunman to pick off any of the humans that tried to pass it.”

            Joe inhaled sharply, “And the Hales?”

            “I broke the ward and disrupted the ash,” Stiles replied.  “No one died, but Peter Hale was shot with wolfsbane bullets and is badly hurt.  I still don’t know what this is, but I want you to be careful.”

            “Son?”

            “Its possible this is an attack on the territory and not the pack.  Where are you?”

            “I’m home,” he replied.  “How can I help?”

            “I have an idea of the arsonist and I’m pretty sure this isn’t about the territory, but I wouldn’t say no to some backup when I go confront them.  Interested?”

            “How close are you?”

            “Ten minutes.”

            “I’ll be ready when you get here.”

            True to his word, his father was waiting on the front porch when Stiles pulled into the driveway of his childhood home.  He was dressed casually, his usual post retirement outfit of jeans and a button up, but he was armed with a gun at his hip and the family talisman around his neck.  He shook his head when he climbed into the passenger seat of the cruiser.

            “It’s weird not to be driving this thing.”  His amusement faded when his gaze landed on the burns on Stiles’ arm.  “Kid…”

            Stiles shrugged, “The ward protecting the Mountain Ash was pretty nasty.”

            “So I see.  I take it you haven’t been to a healer. yet”

            He shrugged again, “The Alpha took the pain.  I’ll see a healer later.  Let me catch you up on everything.”

            His father listened carefully, his facial expression revealing nothing until Stiles had finished speaking.  He tapped his finger thoughtfully against his knee for a moment.  “I take it you recognized the symbol on the necklace?”

            Stiles took one hand off the wheel to fish the necklace out of his pocket and hand it over to his father.  “Yep.”

            “Well I’ll be...”  He shook his head, “Though the Hale’s haven’t broken the Law or the Code and even if they had, this is not the way to address it.  Why would they do this?  Unless….”

            “Unless what?”

            “Some of the Argent’s aren’t quite as progressive as Christopher and Allison.  Though they should know very well that they aren’t welcome here.”

            Stiles sighed and shook his head as he took the necklace back from his father, “I really don’t know.  None of my wards around the town were tripped, but given the sophistication of the magic at the Hale house, its entirely possible they were able to get around that.  And that’s just the top of the list for things that have happened today that I can’t explain.”

            “Oh?” Joe asked as Stiles parked the cruiser on the side of a residential street.

            Stiles nodded as they exited the cruiser.  “I’ve been getting some truly cryptic comments from some of the Hales.”

            “Oh?”

            Stiles kept his gaze pinned to his father, aware that something about his comment had put the man on edge.  “Yes.”

            “Which ones?”

            “Mostly Derek Hale.  I get the feeling there is something I don’t know.  Something I should know,” he paused briefly to ring the doorbell.  “And once this is over, if you know what it is, I’d really appreciate it if you would tell me.”

            Joe sighed, “Believe me, son.  If I could, I would have told you years ago.”

            “If you could have?” Stiles questioned.

            “There is only one person in the world with the power to force me to keep a secret from you, kid,” his father said gently.  “If you want to know the truth, you’ll have to get it from him.”

            The confirmation that his grandfather was involved wasn’t exactly a surprise after some of the comments Derek had made, but what his father was implying was powerful magic.  To force a witch to keep a secret, especially from kin, was no easy feat.  And that his grandfather would perform such a spell on his own child was alarming.  Stiles had never exactly been fond of the old man, but Konstany Stilinski was a formidable witch and the head of the clan.

            “This is what you fought about when I was a teenager.  This is why you rarely speak to him.”

            “Just so,” Joe replied.

            Before Stiles could reply, the front door to the house was pulled open.  The welcoming smile of the man faded a little, but he nodded politely.  “Sheriff.  Joe.”

            “Chris,” Joe replied.

            Stiles held up his hand, the necklace dangling from it when Chris Argent met his gaze.  “Missing something?”